#until the real version is found this might help </3

[bellassoblr]

hi hello I FOUND SOMEONE WHO MADE A COVER OF THE SALON MYSTERY SONG !!!!

IT'S SUCH A BANGER I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S NOT MORE WELL KNOWN???? PLEASE THIS'LL BE ON REPEAT IN MY HEADPHONES

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x Reader pt.4

So some of y'all are gonna not like this part but it's necessary 🤌🏻 hope it's okay I wrote it whilst bleaching/dying my hair 🤣🤣

I have also put some very rough sketches of the X-Men I did on holiday so you can get the vibes on the super suit/costume

<< Part 3 Part 5 >> Masterlist

He was gone, you waited for a moment just in case, but no, he was gone. It was okay, you'd had more time with him than you'd thought possible. The hours were a blessing.

“He isn't going to come back.” Cassandra spoke to your right. “You missed your chance.” She matched over to Pyro and slapped him awake.

You shook your head, she was right. Why were you just staring into space? You had to get a move on.

Quickly picking up Laura's discarded backpack - now full to the brim with Deadpool comics - you moved past them. Better to leave when she's distracted, if you hung on any longer she might remember you all came here to bargain with/kill her.

You looked down from the socket, drained. Using your powers was mentally taxing and, without the help of adrenaline, you didn't know if you could even make yourself a disc to descend. Instead you skidded downwards, holding the skull to climb and landed on your feet. The texture was like bricks. Was that really how a skull felt?

You swivelled to see your family. Laura sprinted as soon as her eyes landed on you, crushing you in a hug. “You stayed.”

“Of course I did.” Your arms held her tighter. “I’d have missed you all too much.”

She pulled back from the hug only to gaze into your eyes with her own glassy ones. “We couldn't see who jumped, did they make it? I thought you'd been eaten.”

“No, I'm here.” You assured her with a teary smile. "They did make it. They're gone."

She quickly burrowed back into your neck as you noticed El make her way towards you both and joined the hug. “That was intense.”

Gambit was next picking you all up as he squeezed tight. “Le’s never do tha’ again.”

Blade had hung back but Laura extended her hand to him and gestured until he held it. He wasn't one for ‘lovey dovey’ displays but he did love you all. He never thought it possible, not after he landed in the Void, but here he was. Clutching Laura's hand and thanking any deity that would listen.

“We better go.” Blade instructed. “Let's see if they got any wheels we can borrow.”

They did in fact have some wheels you could borrow. The five of you all sat in a beaten down Ghost Rider vehicle. It was an old fashioned Chevy and the boot space was perfect for the looted goods you all scrambled to swipe under Cassandra’s nose.

The drive back was strange. Obviously you were no longer in the boot with Logan but even if he was here you'd thought it was odd. You all survived.

There were no casualties.

Not that you were complaining, gosh no, but you were feeling a sense of unease. As though it had all been too easy.

Laura sat between you and Gambit, holding one hand from each of you as she dozed. Blade was driving and El sharpened her sais.

This was so ordinary. Well, your version of ordinary. But seeing actual civilization had thrown you. Because no this wasn't ordinary. This was fucking batshit.

You took a breath and tried to calm the fuck down because yes this was crazy and it wasn't what life should be but it was what it was.

You had to make peace with it.

You'd let Logan and Wade leap into a real life.

If they came back good. If they didn't… well, you were fine with it.

~~

A week later, once word had gotten out that Cassandra Nova had left, the Void seemed calmer. There were less riots - still a large amount - and people seemed to go it alone more. There wasn't the threat of ‘join or die’ so people made peace with scavenging and surviving.

Your group had still tried to help if people needed it but you mostly stayed out of sight. Without a ‘big bad’ to fight there was no longer an ultimate goal which was good but at the same time it made life boring.

You were playing a game of Uno, having found it in a rotting classroom, when an orange rectangle opened behind you. The others were quick to draw their weapons and you craned your neck to see a woman step out.

She had an air of authority with a kind face.

“Y/N L/N, Laura Kinney, Remy Lebeau, Eric Brooks, Elektra Natchios, I am B-15.” She informed you with a pleasant smile. The fact that her name was a letter and a number wasn't lost on you but you were still reeling over the fact that you're fairly sure Blade was called Eric. “I oversee the TVA and we are here on business.”

“TVA?” Gambit raised an eyebrow, lowering his powered up deck.

“The Time Variant Authority. We are the overseers of timelines. Our job is to watch them, nurture them, keep them safe.”

Elektra straightened but didn't hide her weapons. “If you 'oversee our timelines', why are we here?” Her tone was accusatory.

B-15 looked a little embarrassed. “One of our managers, Paradox, had accelerated the time frame on your dying timelines. He is the reason you are here. I am sorry for that but I am here to make amends, we have been in discussions with Wade Wilson and Logan Howlett about your recovery.”

Well, fuck me, he was coming back. You'd practically lost hope after the third day.

“Dying timelines?” Elektra's eyes flickered to Gambit. She knew he didn't remember a time before being here like the rest of you did.

“Timelines, like many organic things do, decay and die. Sometimes it is natural, sometimes it is fabricated and sometimes their 'Anchor Being' dies and they slowly rot.”

“But our timelines, our universes, are dead?” Blade questioned.

“Yes. But we can house you in another. We need to go through the proper paperwork and screenings but I do believe you can all be happy there.”

“People we knew-” You started. “Our friends- I've seen multiple versions of the same person. Our friends won't know us?”

“I can safely say in this universe there is no version of each of you. You would be entering as yourself and, yes, you will have to create friendships and relationships again but I'm sure each of you is up to the task.”

The feeling that this was too good to be true crept up your spine again. “What's the catch?”

“There isn't a catch.” She clasped her hands. “You don't have to come, it's an offer but I won't ask twice.”

The room that had previously been full of laughter and frustrated yelling was now dead silent, each of you considering her words.

“Do you want to go?” You asked Laura.

Her face betrayed no emotions. “I will if you want to.”

“It might be very different then this, then what you grew up with. You might not like it.” You didn't want to steer her any way but you wanted her to be sure.

“As long as we're together.” Her eyes flashed around the table.

El nodded. “I'm game.”

“Are there blood suckers in that world?” Blade asked B-15.

“There are Vampires, yes. There are also a few Lycans.”

That baffled you. No fucking way was there Vampires. “Then I'm ready to kick some Vamp ass.”

“I dunno.” Gambit shook his head. “I feel like I wa’ born ‘ere. Wha’ if there no room for me there?”

“Of course there's room.” El placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don't stay here, this place is horrid.”

He gave an uneasy look but did eventually nod.

“Right.” B-15 smiled. “Let's go.”

She gave you five minutes to collect your things and meet her at the rectangle. It was a little sad to realise five years worth of memories could be boiled down to a water bottle, Uno cards, a few knives, some art you and the girls created and your photo of you and your husband.

There was no point taking your clothes, they were tattered and stained, you weren't even sure the super suit you currently had on was clean enough for the 'new universe'.

B-15 walked through the portal when you all agreed it was time and Blade followed. Laura and you were next and finally El led Gambit.

You were struck by nostalgia. Walking through from a hot country to an airconned airport slapped you in the face. Memories of your honeymoon dancing across your mind. Was this wrong?

Was being with him insulting his memory?

You scanned the room. It was a tacky beige corridor with a set of brown doors, each door had a friendly face waiting with a clipboard.

“Right, so this is the boring part.” B-15 tried to joke. “I will need you all to partner up and answer some questions.”

“Wait’re minute.” Gambit ceased Elektra’s movements. “Wha’ if they kill us?”

“We won't kill you.” B-15 made a face.

“You are separating us.” El folded her arms.

B-15 sighed and plastered the professional smile back on. “If we wanted you dead we would've left you in the Void. This is part of the process, unfortunately it involves asking a lot of questions and to save time we thought to free up some extra agents, who are all very busy, mind you.”

Laura was the first to move, she gave a curt nod, pulled her backpack tighter against her spine and strode right to the end of the corridor. The lady she met was small and unassuming but she greeted Laura with a friendly hello.

You were next, always following after her, and found yourself beside a man. He was tall and waved awkwardly.

The man led you into what was clearly an interrogation room. There was a definitely double sided mirror on the wall reflecting the dark oak table and chairs that sat directly in the centre.

“Right,” the man said, taking a seat. “I am here to fill you in on this universe and fill out this questionnaire to determine whether or not you are fit to join it.”

You eyed his clipboard. “How long will this take?”

“Time works differently in the TVA.” He shrugged and began the explanation, which felt as though it lasted three whole days.

This universe was much the same as yours except the X-Men hadn't picked you up. There was a Jean and a Charles and a Rogue, etc however their version of Logan died which was beginning to kill off the timeline. Paradox had offered Wade the opportunity to hop over and he learnt the truth causing everything that had happened to happen. In order to secure all five of your places the TVA had to create some ‘micro-adjustments’ to certain parts of this universe. This was completely new territory so it did take some time to set up events and try to create anchor spots.

The X-Men were formed however they were now operational in the year 2024 and they worked side by side with the Avengers. There were many names and many dates and many places that Y-23 told you and you could barely catch up.

“So there's Avengers and Guardians and X-Men and there's still villains? Isn't it overkill?” You finished your lemonade, placing the plastic cup on the table by your messy notepad. You'd created a mini conspiracy board, trying to piece together all the information he was throwing at you.

“There are more heroes than you could ever imagine but that just brings the threat of violence higher.” He shrugged.

“And B-15 said that there were Vampires and Lycans.”

“In a world full of Mutants are you really surprised?”

“But a mutation is different from a species of Vampire, no?”

Y-23 thought about it but shook his head. “No it isn't. It's simple evolution.”

This was starting to feel like a Charles Xavier lecture.

“This universe isn't a part of what was once called the Sacred Timeline, this is a wild, thriving, new and exciting thing. This has never been done before.” He tried to reassure you.

"Meaning it's an experiment.” You muttered. “I'm game for it, I'm just scared.”

“Well, you have answered all of my questions swimmingly.” He gave you two thumbs up.

“You haven't asked any questions.”

“The questions are more for me than for you.”

This was starting to feel like a really bad idea. “I'm confused.”

“Don't be, the next step is wardrobe. Can't have you going to a new universe in…" He looked you up and down. "..that.”

~~

You stepped out of the tailors with a spring in your step. They had provided actual clothes but being in a brand new suit was bliss. They'd even provided weapons! The suit was beautiful. It was mainly purple, with a purple ‘x’ on your chest on top of black fabric. The black fabric was angular, causing a triangle shape underneath the ‘x’ and then carrying on down from your armpits to your ankles. The purple was on the front and the back connecting from your chest via the ‘x’ to your shoulders. Your spine had a delicately placed holster for two knives.

This was quite possibly the most powerful you had felt, despite being unable to actually conjure your forcefields. Y-23 had told you there was no magic in the TVA and that got you both into a large debate on whether or not you had magic. You were a mutant, you weren't magic! Gambit toed the line between mutant and magic better than anyone so you wondered how he was doing.

El and Blade were in the main room you were being led to. The room consisted of more brown furniture - desks and chairs - but had many old-school TVs on the far wall. Each screen held either a series of lines or a person. You were quick to zero in on Iron-Man, his iconic suit was blasting at several enemies. He was one of the biggest heroes in your world and the most recognised. You literally couldn't imagine Tony in another suit, another mask. He wouldn't look right even in a different colour, say green for example.

“That's Punisher.” El pointed to a gruff man, with a dusty white skull on his chest. He was mean looking but you had the feeling he was probably good as gold when needed.

“Whistler.” Blade nodded to another gruff man. He was older and definitely played by his own rules.

You watched the row of moving heroes. “So we have to just drop in and say hi, we know you in another universe?”

“H-1 told me I would say what I wanted.” El gave you a confused shrug. “that doesn't exactly clarify anything, what if I tell Matt and Frank and they don't- what if that means they don't want anything to do with me?”

“Precisely.” Blade agreed as Gambit walked into the room. “I will need Whistler's help. I can't fuck that up.”

“A’least I can' destroy wha’ weren't there.” Gambit smugly grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “We all look ‘mazing by’t’way.”

Yes. You all did. Blade was wearing all black. A protective vest on top of a long sleeve and leather trousers. His outfit was swallowed by his leather coat. Weapons were under and over the coat, you could see all sorts of knives and daggers and even a crucifix dangled from his belt. He had a new pair of sunglasses, which he seemed very pleased about.

Elektra was wearing a bright red outfit, you assumed her Void outfit started off as this colour but she stained it to be safer. Her chest was now unexposed and she had gloves on. Her trousers were still there but on top she had an overlaying split skirt. The material was softer than the bodysuit, it matched the scarf which covered the lower part of her face.

Gambit looked much the same. His outfit was perfect. The only thing different about this one was there were no knicks and dents. He also wielded a staff.

Laura was yet to show her face. Something that didn't worry you but didn't not worry you.

“So where are we living?” You questioned. “I used to live in the X-Mansion but Y-23 said Charles was around but he now operates in 2024. So in my head he must be very different.”

“It seems like that's true for all our friends.” Blade’s eyes hadn't left the screens.

Gambit strode to the screens and gazed intently at each person. “Surely, they couldn' be too different. If it's the same person an’all.”

“Different circumstances, different upbringings.” El countered.

“That's Magneto.” You pointed to Erik. He was talking to Charles, drinking a cup of tea. It was infuriating because they were this civilised as enemies so you couldn't even tell if they were friends. “He was a concentration camp survivor. If he's about now, did that happen? Is he evil?”

“He looks pretty friendly with Charles.” Elektra cocked her head.

“They always were.” You huffed. “This will be really difficult won't it?”

Blade’s head swivelled in your direction. “Adjusting always is.”

Fuck how was he just effortless cool?

The door reopened, B-15 and Laura came through. She was gorgeous. They had dressed her in a yellow suit, with black trim much like yours. The suit had gloves and shoes which had special slots for her claws. But the icing on the cake was her cowl. She wore the famous Wolverine cowl and she looked glorious.

“Woah!” Gambit cheered. “You look li’ him!”

She did. She really looked like Logan.

“You look amazing, sweetie.” El grinned wide as Laura held one elbow in embarrassment.

“Thank you.” She wore a shy smile.

Blade clapped her back and couldn't help but nod.

“I can't believe it. You really- you look like- you look good.” You stuttered through the sentence.

She, thankfully, waved you off and turned to the screens. “Who are they?”

“Heroes in the 'new universe'.” Blade smirked. “They'll need our help.”

B-15 cleared her throat and you all looked over. She was standing in front of a freshly opened ‘timedoor’. “This is it.” She stepped to the right. “Through here is a collection of Earth's Mightiest Heroes. They will greet and assess you.”

Oh great, more assessment.

Laura, again, was the first of you to make a move. She confidently marched through the door, ready for this to be over with.

El was next, followed by Gambit, Blade and finally you.

You entered a white room. It was grand and outlandishly ‘modern’ - sparse. There were walls that were made entirely by window planes and the sunlight shone warmly. There was a silver, angular table and six beings were seated at it.

These were the ‘illuminati’. Y-23 had explained that a member of each super team created the illuminati, an omnipotent organisation. They controlled the world.

Iron-Man was there, creasing a ridiculously expensive suit, as well as Doctor Strange - the Sorcerer Supreme - Mr Fantastic - the smartest man alive - Namor - the King of Atlantis - Blackbolt - the Ruler of Attilan - and… oh my god. That was Charles!

The negotiation wasn't long. Charles took a look into each of your minds and declared that you and B-15 were all telling the truth. Then they revealed a set of apartments that they had brought for you to settle into normality in. You were allowed to leave them once you had settled and you had to come back every month for therapy "monitoring".

Stark handed you all a bank card and told you there was a limit to them. They also informed you that if you were needed to defend Earth they would call upon you.

Blade was under extra surveillance as he was a Daywalker. Reed had been able to recreate Whistler's serum to suppress the bloodlust but they were still taking precautions.

Doctor Strange placed a spell on each of you to track your whereabouts but other than that they let you go.

“The idiots are outside.” Stark used a thumb to point over his shoulder. Blackbolt smiled, his shoulders shaking in a silent chuckle.

“They haven't stopped pestering.” Namor rolled his eyes. “You must be integral.”

“We are just ourselves. We were cursed to live in that Void for years, for no apparent reason other than a cocky bastard's ego.” Elektra held her head high, watching the men she addressed like a hawk.

Charles adjusted his chair and gave you a sincere grin. “You may venture out, we do hope you find solace here.”

.

Part 5

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@geeksareunique @lovelyvaderx @melissa-ashe @st1nkabutt @maximumchilddreamland @ravenmedows @vulgarfuckinvirgo77

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The sketches, be kind pls

[abeautylives]

Times I Remember Well

(and Some That I Don’t)

Part 3

author’s note: Thank you for reading this ridiculous story. Now for the good stuff.

pairing: female!OCxjake

time frame: 2016-2018

word count: almost 7.8k this part

warnings: language, underage drinking (implied), mentions of sex and sexual situations, nudity, oral (m. and f. receiving), unprotected penetrative sex

You know how most people’s lives change pretty drastically when they move away for college?

What, were you expecting me to claim that I was different, special in some way?

I’m not.

If you’re wondering, Sam and I were fine. I guess he’d matured enough to keep speaking to me when he found out I’d almost fucked his brother. I was still immature enough to give him a classic three day long silent treatment over the whole Sam said he thought you were fucking that guy you dated thing.

I even made him agree to never bring me up to Jake again. Ever.

Anyway, my first semester of college kind of kicked my ass. I was smart enough, but I couldn’t decide on a major and it made the whole experience feel like a waste of time. I didn’t meet anyone worth much of my effort to get to know, and I spent a lot of nights alone in my dorm room. I barely even liked my roommate. Meanwhile, Sam was at home breezing through his last year of high school and preparing to actually go on tour.

Like a real tour. It was my worst nightmare. And I had to hear all about it when I came home for winter break. 

But he was excited, of course he was. And I was proud of him. And Josh, and Danny. I couldn’t bring myself to have positive feelings for Jake. After he’d rejected and embarrassed me (again), I’d run off to school determined to lose my v-card to literally anyone who’d never been to Frankenmuth or heard of their band. Fortunately for me, almost no one had heard of either.

So, I did. And Matthew Nowak had been a very cursory and lazy fuck, but he got the job done. I mean, he popped the cherry or whatever, he didn’t make me come, and I never gave him another opportunity to try.

I almost didn’t even go home for Christmas, my dad had been begging me to come see him, but I knew if I didn’t go home, I might never see my best friend again.

Was that a little dramatic? Sure, but the dates for tour were going to start around my birthday, before he even graduated, and he wouldn’t be home for the entire summer. There were talks of getting signed, to a fucking label. Releasing their music to the world. Jake’s dreams were coming true and he was stealing my best fucking friend from me.

He really was an asshole.

I went back to school in the spring a little sad, nostalgic for a time when things were easy and fun, and I always had a weekend smoke sesh in the Kiszka garage to look forward to. There was nothing for me to look forward to in Ann Arbor. Until I met Soph.

Sophie and I were paired up within the first few days of one of our classes, and thank God we were. We clicked instantly, she was almost like a female version of Sam with even better hair.

She got me out of my slump, out of my dorm room and out of my own head.

As we started hanging out more outside of class, we learned about each other’s lives at home, and she let me talk endlessly about Sam. About moving away from Traverse and finding the best friend I’d ever had, growing up with him, becoming an adult at his side.

I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but eventually I ran out of stories and didn’t feel the need to talk about him much anymore.

For a few months, we worked hard and partied harder, and I felt more and more like myself, or my new self, with her help. My new self must have been putting out certain vibes that attracted attention, because I wasn’t hurting for it. Not that I really had back home, but home had narrowed my view, the Kiszkas my whole world. Even when I did date boys, Sam was there to tell me he didn’t like them, then Josh was there shining brighter than the sun, blinding me to them.

Then Jake was there. Ruining me for everyone else, just by existing.

In Ann Arbor, Soph had the opposite effect. Every guy was cute, cute enough to talk to, flirt with, party with. A select few were hot enough to make out with, let them touch our bodies, we would touch theirs. Dance with them, let them pull us close, throw our arms around them and tell them to take us somewhere quieter. 

There was that one time, I’d gone back to this guy’s dorm and he’d put a playlist on shuffle. Ya know, so we wouldn’t be heard. And right before I put his dick in my mouth, fucking Highway Tune started playing. 

Instant no. I left him there with a hard-on and zero promises of returning.

But anyway, Soph and I had fun every weekend, studied every weeknight. By the end of the second semester, we’d decided on my major, and made sure we would share more classes in the fall.

When summer break rolled around, we spent the first half with her family in Grand Rapids and the second, reluctantly, with my mom. Home was weird without Sam, but he was off galavanting across the U.S. Communication between us had been sparse, though he did call me once every few weeks to fill me in, and let’s be honest, brag. I didn’t mind the bragging, much, but even with how well things were going at school, I’d have given anything to drop it all and be with him. 

Even if it meant tolerating Jake. 

Life goes on, time keeps on slipping, the wheel in the sky keeps on turning and all that. 

College was hard, but Soph and I really buttoned up in the fall. More studying, fewer boys, a little less fun, but Michigan gets cold fast and running wild all over campus didn’t hold the same appeal. We vowed to live it up in the spring, maybe settle down and get some boyfriends. Maybe not.

“Holy shit holy shit!”

We were in the library, Soph across the table from me with wide eyes, laptops, books and notes spread out between us.

“Shhh! What? What the fuck?” She leaned in conspiratorially and I turned my phone around to show her the screen. 

“They’re playing in Detroit. They’re coming home!”

“Will you be quiet? Who, Sam’s band?”

That made me laugh every time. I always called it Sam’s band, because he would’ve loved it and someone else I knew would have loathed it.

They hadn’t been home in forever, they were hardly even in the states, and when they’d played the Fillmore in the spring I’d been so bogged down with new classes and so much fucking homework, I couldn’t justify leaving campus let alone the city. 

But they were coming back, and I’d be on winter break. Sam had sent me their schedule, which I’d thrust into Soph’s hands.

“Aww, reunion! I wish I could go with you.” Her pouty face was unmatched, but she was going with her parents to visit family in Ohio for the holidays. For a moment, that realization made me panic. I wanted to go, needed to see my best friend, but to do it alone? Why did that make me nervous?

Maybe because I hadn’t seen him in two years. Maybe because I hadn’t seen him in more than two. I doubted I’d even get to spend much time with Sam, and I doubted further that I’d be able to get him away from the others.

Not that I wouldn’t want to hang out with Danny, or even Josh. But… well, you know.

I wondered if they were going home for the brief break between Detroit and Seattle, and I made a mental note to ask Sam. 

I’d insisted on buying my own ticket to the show, their third added at the Fox after the first two sold out, but Sam wouldn’t hear of it. He set me up with a ticket and access to see them backstage, and I tried not to let it get to my head. It's not like they were famous or anything.

Selling out multiple shows.

I FaceTime’d Sophie so she could help me decide what to wear - I hadn’t put this kind of pressure on an outfit since the night I kissed… yeah, you saw how that went.

We landed on skin tight faux leather pants, an extremely low-cut black and tan floral print top with a fitted bodice and wide, flowy sleeves, and chunky black boots. I planned to top it off with a vintage fur coat Sam and I had found thrifting a few years back. We’d always joked that it originally belonged to the old lady they named their band after. 

“Okayyyyy, so what about your underwear?” 

I stopped spinning in front of my phone, where I’d been showing Sophie the whole get up.

“What the fuck do you mean, my underwear? Who cares?”

“Babe, it’s a rock show! What if you meet a super hot guy with like, tattoos and a tongue ring that wants to rock your world?” I watched her eyebrows waggle as she stuck her own tongue out at me. 

“Yeah I don’t think that’s really their demographic.” 

But… an idea started to form. Sexy underwear would make me feel sexy. Who would be irritated to see me, looking and feeling sexy, arguably hotter now than I’d ever been? Who would be downright furious to watch me get a little flirty, a little provocative with another man? Men? His brothers?

Ohhh, Jake Kiszka was gonna kill me. And it was gonna be worth it. 

The ticket Sam held for me was in the front fucking row. Of the seats, behind the pit floor, but still. How embarrassing, what if I didn’t know any of the words? I didn’t really listen to their music, not since I was in high school, watching them practice or play at Fischer.

As you can imagine, I didn’t need to worry. Every, single, song was familiar. Songs that they’d written or started writing when Sam was barely fifteen. But the people around me knew them all, better than I did actually. 

That was… pretty cool.

I left my seat as the guys were blowing kisses and throwing flowers into the crowd, stopped in a bathroom to check myself out, and followed Sam’s directions to make it backstage. The guys made it there before me, I could hear their excited voices from the hall as a security guard led me to their green room. We slowed as we got closer, and I stopped the guard before we reached the door, composing myself, slipping my coat off, smoothing my hair and controlling my expression. 

You should've seen his face when I walked through the doorway, slow clapping and wearing my best deadpan. They all turned their heads in my direction, but his face was the one I sought out. 

His cheeks were still flushed from the stage (he honestly goes crazy up there) but he immediately turned so bright pink I hoped his head would explode. 

“YOU’RE HERE! Holy shit, you’re here!” Sam rushed at me and instantly my feet were off the ground, he swung me around and I couldn’t help the smile that stretched wide as I laughed with him. 

“You’re sweaty! Put me down, idiot!” He dropped me to my feet and grabbed a hand, lifted it above my head and spun me in a circle.

“Look at you, you look hot, T!” His laughter cracked loud and joyous and my heart soared. He didn’t mean anything by it, of course, but he was right and I knew it.

Danny approached me next, taller and even broader than I ever remembered him being, and wrapped me up in another sweaty hug. “Good to see you, did you get tinier?” We laughed and I slapped him away. Then Josh caught my eye, arms crossed over his bare chest under an open black vest and leaning against the vanity, grinning. 

I moved toward him and he met me in the middle, opened his arms and threw them around me. He didn’t make fun of me, or comment on the way I looked. Our cheeks were pressed together and he turned his face and dropped a kiss to mine. “We’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you guys too, more than you know.”

He let me go and his grin stretched into a blinding smile. “What’d you think of the show?”

“It was fucking awesome, I can’t believe you guys are like, legit rockstars! Seems like yesterday you were jamming in your garage.” Sam sidled up and threw a long arm over my shoulders.

“To be fair, we didn’t really stop jamming in the garage until last year, T.”

I knew that, I guess. But I’d missed it, and I’d missed the moment my best friend grew up. But this wasn’t the time to get weepy about that. I still had a mission to accomplish.

Turning out of Sam’s hold, I faced him. He no longer looked apoplectic, but his nostrils were flared and his arms were crossed, one hand running a finger across his chin below pursed lips. His focus was distinctly somewhere on the floor, but I walked toward him and watched his eyes connect with my boots and then travel, slowly, all the way up my body. 

Get a good look, asshole.

And he did, his gaze lingered for a fraction of a second on my hips, and then again on my chest before it finally met my face.

Say something stupid, I dare you.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” 

My own eyes rolled in my skull. “Good to see you too, Jacob. How have you been?”

His features twisted in confusion for just a moment before he smoothed them back out. Good.

“Fantastic, living the dream, ya know. How have you been, Tiny?”

“Oh, really good!” I crossed one arm, tucking it under my tits and pushing them up while I twirled a finger through a strand of my hair with the other hand. “I’m majoring in English and Writing and aced all of my finals this past semester. Just really living my best on-campus life. Work hard, play hard and all that.”

It was so satisfying, the way he’d accidentally looked at my chest and then failed to look back at my face until I was done speaking. I swear to you my pussy fluttered when he swallowed, hard, before responding. It was that satisfying. 

“That’s- ahem, that’s great. Glad to hear it. Thanks for coming by to say hi or whatever but we need to pack up our gear and head to the hotel.”

Nice try.

“Oh, cool! I’d love to come with you guys, I just miss you all so much.” His face started turning pink again before I looked over my shoulder. “Sammy! Can I come with and hang out at the hotel? Just for a little bit?” I whipped my head back, my hair swinging with it, to see his face before Sam even answered.

I wanted to see if steam came out of his ears.

“Fuck yeah! You can crash with me if you want!”

One corner of my mouth lifted and curled. “Perfect!”

I regret to inform you that no steam came out. But I think it was pretty close.

When I pulled in at the hotel, I texted Sam and he told me they were in the lobby so I flipped my visor down, checked my face and fluffed my hair. After a deep breath, I got out of the car and made my way inside. 

The hotel wasn’t anything too ritzy, and I figured despite it all, they weren’t that famous. Sam still looked and sounded like the best friend I’d grown up with, though there was something about him that had become more attractive. All of them actually exuded more… sex appeal? 

Ugh, musicians. 

My timing was pretty good, I entered the building in time to catch them getting in the elevator, Jake being the last left in the lobby. But we caught each other’s eye and instead of walking on, he backed up a step. The doors closed and the elevator rose without him. 

He stood there, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, and waited for me to reach him. When I did, he spoke before I could. 

“What are you doing here, T?”

I painted confusion on my face instead of the pure gratification I actually felt. “Visiting my friends? What are you-“

“Cut the bullshit. It’s unbecoming.”

Okay, that was a little wrinkle in my plan. I hadn’t even started shamelessly flirting with anyone yet and he was already cursing at me. I doubled down.

“I came to see them, Jake.” I pressed the button to call the elevator back down and crossed my arms.

“And what about me?”

“What about you?” Just as I glanced up, feigning more interest in the LED display of numbers as the elevator came down than this conversation, he stepped closer and gripped my arm. Pulled me closer.

It felt familiar.

“I’m not buying it. Come on.” The elevator dinged and the doors opened to an empty car, but he was already pulling me down a hall toward a stairwell door. It swung open as he shoved through it, yanked me through and pushed me ahead of him, and it slammed shut behind us.

The stairwell was silent, our breathing was amplified and bounced off the walls. His voice made me flinch.

“Third floor. Go.”

Four flights of stairs and two landings separated me from their room. That was fine, I could do it.

Except he stayed behind me the entire time and didn’t speak a word. By the time I pushed the door to the third floor open, my nerves were fried and I was still trying to discern his reasoning for taking the stairs. If he had yelled at me or pushed me to the wall and kissed me in the stairwell, it would’ve made more sense. Instead, he placed a hand low on my back and led me down a deserted hallway to room 307. I breathed a shaky sigh of relief, ready to abandon the plan completely and run to Sam, use him as a personal human shield for the rest of the night.

But he pulled a key card out of his pocket and slid it into the lock, and the heavy door opened to a dark, empty room. 

Jake stepped inside and flicked on a light, holding the door open for me. I didn’t move.

“Jake, what-“

“Get in here, we need to talk.”

It sounded like a terrible idea, I hadn’t come here to talk. I came to spend time with Sam and do enough harmless flirting with the guys to drive Jake crazy. 

“No. Where are the guys?”

He just stared at me for a tense few seconds before he sighed impatiently. “In Sam and Danny’s room.”

“And which room would that be, exactly? I’ll just go knock-“

“Please.”

I know, I know. Did he really have to go and ask nicely?

“Fine, you know what? You have five minutes then I’m the fuck out of here.” He had the nerve to give me a tight-lipped smile, lift his palm and wave me in as I started to pass him and head into the room. Then he let the door swing shut.

We were alone.

The room was pretty standard, two queen-size beds, a table and two chairs. Not exactly rockstar shit. I tossed my coat onto the closest bed.

“You want a drink?”

I dropped into a chair, crossed my legs and folded my hands over my knee. “No, I don’t. What did you need to talk to me about? You have four minutes.”

He pulled a White Claw out of the mini fridge, popped the tab and sat at the end of the bed closest to me. After a swig from the can, he leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. 

“Three minutes.”

“Jesus, give it a rest, T.” He pinned me with a glare and my eyes widened. “Don’t. Don’t act all affronted because you’re not getting your way, I’m sick of it.” 

“I don’t know what you mean, I-“

“Stop! Tell me why you’re really here.”

“To see Sam! I told you-“

He stood from the bed, leaned across me and slammed the can onto the table. I jumped in my seat, but then he bent down and gripped the arms of the chair on either side of me. Right in my face, he ripped me to shreds.

“I’m tired of this, T. Since day one, everything has always had to be all about you, your feelings, your stupid ideas, your fucking games.”

That was ridiculous and it straightened my spine, I sat up taller and put us nose to nose, but he didn’t stop.

“How many times have you come between us and Sam? Pitted us against each other? Run away when you didn’t get your way, with one of us or all of us?”

With a huff, he pushed himself away from me but now I was ready for a fight. Launching from the chair, my body followed his. “And what about you, Jake?  You spent years fucking with me, leading me on, just to humiliate me over and over again!”

“Is that really what you think?!” We were squared up now, hands flailing as we yelled in each other's faces. “I didn’t do shit, and you spent years avoiding me, making me feel awkward and unwelcome in my own house because God forbid I ever be in the presence of such a self-entitled, delicate fucking princess!”

“Oh, you fucking prick. Fuck you-“

“So eloquent, that’s really lovely Tiny.”

You already know that he said that on purpose.

“Don’t. Call. Me. That.” I was fuming, the steam was probably coming out of my ears, and that pissed me off further. Everything about this was infuriating, my night completely off-railed, my time with my friends ruined. I was done.

I threw my hands up and then put them on his shoulders, with all intention to shove him out of my way and walk out of the room with some part of my dignity intact, for once.

But that’s not exactly what happened.

Because once I touched him, the tension reached a breaking point. And boy did it break.

Before I could push him away, his arms were around me, his hands spread across my back, and he pulled me in. 

Yep, he was kissing me. 

Our mouths slammed together and all the anger, all the fury, combusted between them.

My own hands betrayed me and shot from a grip on his shoulders to a grip in the hair at the back of his head, still slightly damp from sweat or a shower at the venue, I had no idea. And I didn’t care.

He ravaged my lips until they felt bruised, opened them with his and forced our tongues to battle for dominance, sucked the air from my lungs until I couldn’t breathe. I pulled away to drag some back in but he hardly gave me the chance, tugging me back in to kiss my lips, bite my jaw, murmuring between the attacks. 

“Why are you really here…”

His hands slid up my back and sunk into my hair, pulled my head to the side so he could continue his attack on my neck, my throat.

“Say it, the truth.”

My brain was in shut down, I forgot what words were and how to make them. His teeth reminded me, scraping along my skin.

“You. For you.”

His lips closed over mine again and he was moving me, two steps backward and we turned, the back of my knees hit the bed where he’d been sitting. Our mouths broke apart, our hands fell away. The sound of our breathing, fast and uneven, thundered between us.

“I’m not gonna stop this time, T.”

My heart stumbled over its next few beats.

“I don’t want you to.”

We fell back into silence as he reached forward and slid his hands up underneath my shirt, rough fingertips pushing the fabric up over my ribs, my chest, I lifted my arms and let him pull it over my head and shook my hair out as he let it drop to the floor. 

There was just enough light coming from the only one he’d flicked on, and the moonlight spilling through the uncovered window, that I saw his nostrils flare. His eyes trailed over my lace and silk covered chest before meeting mine.

“You’re so beautiful,” My breath caught, I held it. “I’ve never told you how beautiful you are.”

I couldn’t speak, emotion squeezing my throat, the words I’d always wanted to hear from him tightening every muscle in my body. So instead, I mirrored his actions and tucked my fingers under the hem of his t-shirt. Soft, heated skin met my touch and I flattened my palms over his hips, up over his stomach and I swear he trembled. Seriously! When they made it to his chest, I could feel the hard, steady beat of his heart, rapid beneath my hand. 

Maybe he knew I could feel it, maybe not, but he leaned in and pulled a soft, sweet kiss from my lips before he took over and tugged the shirt over his head. 

“Jake…” His chest and stomach were lightly toned and completely flawless, a glimpse of which I’d gotten when he was onstage, shirtless under an open jacket. I wanted to tell him just how perfect I thought he was, he’d always been, but the words wouldn’t come. So I bent my knees and dropped to the bed, the barely there happy trail leading up from the low waist of his pants now directly in front of my face.

I leaned forward and kissed it. A strangled noise came from above me, I smiled against his skin. Then his hand was in my hair and he pulled, forcing my face up. He smirked.

“You ever done this before?”

Asshole.

Blindly I reached for and found the button of his jeans, popped it open and worked his zipper down slowly. 

“Please don’t piss me off, or I won’t be nice.”

A chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Just making sure.”

His grip in my hair kept my chin tilted up, eyes locked with his. I peeled the denim over his hips and pulled it down to his knees. Heat rolled off his body in waves, I was dying to look at it, take it all in but there was fire in his stare and I was burning. My fingertips mapped out what I couldn’t see, found the subtle V that led down into his briefs and traced it before I tucked them under the elastic and rolled it down his legs. 

Jake Kiszka’s cock bobbed in the air between his hips and my face. Crazy, I know. I wrapped shaky fingers around him, felt how thick and hard he was before I’d even seen it, tried to picture what I could remember from his dark bedroom.

“Fuck, T.” I tightened my grip on him, just a little, stroked him once. His eyes slid shut.  “I can’t believe you’re here.” I stroked him again and his grasp on my hair loosened, my chin dropped and there it was. As perfect as the rest of him, his dick was big, the head flushed pink. My mouth watered.

For real.

In that moment, I wondered quickly what he liked, how fast, how slow, how hard? My tongue slid out and tasted him, just the very tip, and he snatched my hair up again. The sting in my scalp made my eyes water and I opened my lips and took him in, wrapped them around him and swirled my tongue over his skin. He whimpered.

I could be remembering that wrong, but I swear he did.

He wanted to take control, I could feel it in the smallest amount of pressure from his knuckles on my scalp, but I wanted to be stubborn. I was tired of the control he seemed to have over every one of our interactions. I released him with a soft pop and his eyes shot open. 

“C’monnn,” he groaned. I took my hand off of his dick and pushed him back, he almost stumbled, his legs still trapped in his half-removed jeans. I stood from the bed, spun us around and reversed our positions, then pushed him by the shoulders to sit.

“Patience, Jake, patience.” I flicked the front clasp of my bra open and felt the unrestrained relief as my tits spilled out, then that flutter of satisfaction as his eyes went wide right before going soft and dreamy. What can I say, Jake’s a breast man. “Aht.” He’d reached for them, lifted his hands like he just couldn’t wait to feel them again, but they paused in midair. “I said patience.”

He huffed out a sigh and dropped them, so I continued. Made a little show out of unzipping my boots, sliding them off and peeling the skin-tight material of my pants down my legs. His fingers flexed against his thighs the entire time, clenching into fists and releasing over and over. I waited until I was left in just the lacy thong to instruct him to remove his pants. 

His boots were kicked off and denim tossed away in an instant.

And there we were again. Jake, fully bared to me while we stared at each other, my tits out and pussy covered. But this wasn’t going to end the way it did two years ago. 

Not if I had anything to say about it.

I dropped to my knees and his legs spread, making room for me to kneel between them. His cock jumped when I touched him, just my fingertips, up his shins and over his kneecaps before I placed my palms flat on his thighs. When I peeked up at him through my lashes, he was staring hard, jaw clenched and nostrils flared again. So I continued to trace my fingers over his skin, further up his thighs, over his hips, up and down his happy trail. 

Through gritted teeth, “Baby, please.”

Baby? I was throbbing, slick between my thighs already but that hit me like lightning.

I wrapped a fist around him at the base and took him all the way to the back of my throat.

I had to. 

A string of rough curses fell from his lips and a hand tangled in my hair, but I kept my composure, sucking him in and stroking with my fist, letting him sink as deep as I could without choking. His skin was hot velvet on my tongue, I could taste his desire, his need, and I couldn’t help the moan that rippled up my throat around his cock.

“Jesus fuck.” His hips jerked, I gagged around him, he fisted the hair at the back of my head and yanked me off of him. “Get up here.”

Remember how I wanted to maintain the control here? Yeah, I failed. 

He used his grip on my head to bring my lips to his, his tongue sweeping in to dance with mine immediately, his hands moving down my body to pull me up and into his lap. I threw my arms around him and rocked into it instantly, his roving hands landing on my ass and pulling me in, his dick rock hard and slick with my spit grinding against my silk-covered pussy.

Just like that, I lost control of my insolent mouth too.

The kiss broke and I rested my forehead on his, my eyes trained on what was happening between our hips. “God… I-“ The head of his cock caught on my clit, I gasped at the feeling. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Embarrassing, I know. But then… ohh then.

His hands skimmed up my ribs until they were cupping my breasts, thumbs grazing over my nipples. 

“I’ve wanted you longer, T. Forever.”

Goosebumps. Literal goosebumps ran up my arms, I shivered, my nipples tightened, and he pulled one into his mouth. He sucked and lapped at it, thumb still moving over the other, and without hesitation he sunk his teeth in. 

“Fuck yes, yes yes…”

His tongue circled it again and he released it, pressed a hot and fast kiss to my mouth. 

“You still like that, huh?” He chuckled as he opened his lips over the other side. The silk between my legs was soaked, I could feel how easily I was sliding over his cock, and I was getting impatient despite the way I’d reprimanded him hardly ten minutes ago. 

“Jake, please…”

He popped off of my nipple and pulled another kiss from my lips, then leaned back and let one corner of his mouth curl up, self-satisfied and cocky.

Still an asshole. 

“Please what, baby? Tell me.”

My eyes rolled, even as he tucked his face into the crook of my neck, nipped and licked me there.

“I want you inside, please fuck me.” Self-control, out the window.

“Mmm,” he hummed into my skin, “No.”

Before I could be properly offended, and believe me, I was, he gripped my thighs and hauled me up, then deposited me onto the mattress. Well, tossed me, really. I bounced once, arms and legs flailing, hair falling in my face. By the time I pushed it away and propped myself up on my elbows, he was standing at the foot of the bed, dick in his fist. I opened my mouth to speak, to yell at him or beg him to stick it in, I don’t know, but he was stroking himself, and he moaned. My mouth snapped shut.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” I scoffed, offended, pissed even. “Yet.” He let himself go and placed his hands on the mattress, then climbed onto the edge of the bed and started crawling towards me.

It was so fucking hot. His cheeks were flushed, his hair wild from my hands, his eyes dark. I backed away, moving up the bed until my shoulders met the headboard. He didn’t stop coming, and I didn’t want him to. Instinctively, my knees bent and my legs fell open, inviting him in. But he didn’t settle there, when his hands reached me, he grabbed me by the calf and threw my leg over his shoulder on his way down. 

His mouth opened over damp silk and I cried out, his name or God’s, I’m not sure, but his lips and tongue were moving against me and I may have blacked out. I came to when one of his hands skimmed up my inner thigh, and he broke away long enough to slip two fingers under the material and tug it aside. 

Jake Kiszka’s tongue was on my actual, bare pussy. 

My shoulders sagged against the headboard as I reached for him, burying my fingers in his already tangled and unruly hair, our eyes met and he dragged his tongue over me again and again.

“Shit, you were right, this is better,” I panted. He smiled against my cunt and I felt it. I smiled too.

My cheeks hurt I was smiling so hard, until he laser-focused his attention to my clit. His lips wrapped around it and he sucked it past them, my jaw dropped. 

“Oh, oh my God, oh my God!” He was good at this. Too good. The beginnings of an orgasm were already swirling, tightening in my belly, making my toes tingle. The tip of his tongue moving against me until he opened his mouth over me again, and I felt it plunge inside me. The sounds I was making were unholy but I had no shame, I couldn’t feel anything other than need. I needed to scream, I needed to come, I needed him. 

He brought a hand up around my thigh and ran his thumb over my folds, licking himself as he lapped at me, then swirled it over my clit as his tongue fucked me. Before I could even moan, two fingers from his other hand replaced his tongue inside me.

“Jake!”

His head tilted and he pressed his lips against my thigh, kissed it and grinned. “Yes?” Fingers everywhere, filling me and fucking me, circling the most sensitive part of me - I forgot what I wanted to say, if I had even wanted to. Instead I pulled his mouth back, he slid his thumb away and flicked his tongue against me. 

“Yessss, yes just like that, please!” I let my eyes close and stars were already dancing behind my lids, I was close, so close, and I told him so. I moaned it and his fingers plunged deep and curled. I screamed it and he sucked my clit back into his mouth. 

I came hard, nails dug into his scalp, bucking my hips against his face, screaming his name. 

It was unreal. College guys had nothing, fucking nothing, on him.

Before my muscles had even relaxed, he lifted his head from between my thighs and moved up my body, his fingers still pumping slowly inside me as he kissed my hip, my stomach, my breast on his way up to my mouth. He tasted like me when my tongue touched his, and he eased his fingers from my body. 

“Absolutely fucking stunning, breathtaking.”

His breath was taken? I still couldn’t breathe, my chest continued to heave as he left the bed, taking my panties down my legs with him, and I could barely lift my head to see what he was doing. My eyes closed and I felt the mattress dip with his weight as he returned and settled on his heels between my legs, still splayed open. I cracked an eyelid and found him watching me, wrapped condom held between his fingers. 

Under his gaze, I shifted down until my head rested on the pillows, spreading my legs wider, pussy presented to him on a silver fucking platter.

This was happening. There was absolutely no way this was not happening. Not this time.

“Now, Jake.” Unrecognizable, my voice had a distinct sex kitten-like quality that I loved as soon as it hit my ears. He must have loved it too, because his dick twitched and he gripped it. I reached up and snatched the condom from his fingers, tore it open and started rolling it on while his eyes bugged out and his jaw fell slack.

“Jesus, not your first time, huh?” My hand replaced his around him and I stroked, he leaned over me and I guided the head to my center, moved it through the slick pool of arousal there. He paused, poised to enter me, and met my eyes.

“I’m pretty much out of firsts, Jake.”

His eyes closed, his hips rocked forward, and he pushed just past my opening, the tip not even fully inside me.

I tilted my own hips up, he slipped a fraction of an inch deeper. I whispered, and it was sexy, and seductive. “It could’ve been you.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, opened his eyes and we watched each other’s faces as he sunk deeper, slowly, to the hilt. “It should’ve been me.”

Stunned, speechless, we stayed like that. Unmoving, bodies connected, eyes locked. He broke first, dropping his lips to mine and rocking into me softly. A sound I’d never heard before, quieter than a moan, crept up his throat, trapped behind his lips as they caressed mine. My legs lifted, cradling him between my thighs and wrapping around him. 

It was gentle, sweet. The exact opposite of how I knew it would’ve been, if I’d let him be my first, thinking he wasn’t. 

I felt my cheeks warm, my eyes pool with tears. I blinked them away. This was everything I’d wanted and more. I knew I’d been an idiot to think otherwise. Especially when he pulled back and delivered a quick, deep thrust and there was no pain. Only pleasure bloomed inside me, hot and volatile. 

“Again, more…”

An excellent listener, he repeated it. Again, again, and I met each thrust with my own. Our kiss turned frantic, sloppy, lips and tongues clashing and pushing, pulling and taking. The temperature in the room was rising with the heat of our skin, our bodies slipping against each other. He lifted his chest from mine, hands braced on the pillows on either side of my head, and the conditioned air on our damp skin made us both groan in ecstasy.

I damn near came again, almost commented on it but he dropped back down and shoved an arm between me and the mattress, rolled us both. We laughed as we landed, his hair strewn across the pillow and mine falling in his face. My laughter stuck in my throat when he grabbed onto my thighs and pulled, tucking my knees against his hips and forcing me to sit. I propped myself up with my hands on his chest and fell back into the rhythm, my hips rolling. 

“Goddamn, you feel so good, look so good riding me.”

My head fell back as his words rippled through me, his fingertips digging into me, his hands moving my body over his. He brought one to my chest, squeezed me roughly, rolled my nipple with his fingers, pinched it. Hard.

“Yes!” He did the same to the other, my pussy clenched around him. 

“You like when it hurts a little, don’t you?”

“I- I don’t know, I guess so- ohhh!” He wrapped a hand around each tit and sunk his fingertips into my flesh, then kneaded them both, ran the pads of his thumbs over the peaks. 

“Fuck, that’s so hot. You’re fucking perfect.”

Yeah, I lost my mind a little bit. My hips bucked wildly in his lap. Perfect? Me? My nails pressed into his skin, I dragged them down his chest, reveling in the sharp hiss sucked between his teeth, the way his own hips lifted from the bed and he fucked into me. Sharp, fast thrusts hitting me so deep I was screaming his name. He sat up and pulled my face to his, kissed me hard, bit down on my bottom lip, and then tipped me backwards.

My head was nearly hanging off the end of the bed, but really, who cares? My ankles locked behind his back and he was slamming his hips into the back of my thighs.

Fuck, was I gonna come? He had to be close. I lifted my head, now very much hanging off the bed, to ask him.

Beep. Click.

His hips stuttered and paused, we both whipped our heads to the door, which was fucking opening. 

Josh appeared, his foot crossed the threshold and he was looking down at his phone. 

“GET OUT!!” We yelled in unison. Josh’s head popped up, his eyes went huge, and then he laughed. 

“Shit, sorry guys.” He started backing out into the hall, the door creaking closed. “About time,” We heard him chuckling to himself and the door clicked behind him.

Jake turned his face back to me and seemed to realize for the first time that I was barely on the mattress. An arm wrapped around my back and he shifted us until I could look him in the eyes.

“What the fuck…” I whispered up at him.

His smile was subtle and affectionate before it stretched to a full grin, and he huffed a laugh.

“There was no fucking way I was stopping.”

I matched his grin and lifted to pull a kiss from his lips. “Good.”

He tucked his face into my neck and began the roll of his body into mine again. I let my hands roam across his back as he kissed and nipped my skin and his thrusts picked up speed. The orgasm that had been teasing me before we were interrupted built again quickly, and Jake was panting in my ear. 

But then… then. A whisper. Low and deep, but a whisper nonetheless. 

My name, my real name, hit my ear and I gasped, right on the edge.

“Come for me. Please come for me.”

How could I say no?

It broke, crashed, consumed me. His name on my lips as I tightened, writhed, and shook for him. 

He didn’t stop, didn’t slow, he chased after me and followed into the flames. My name burned into my flesh by his kisses, a guttural groan as he came inside me. 

Easily the best orgasm I’d ever had. Easily.

Because he’s just a man, albeit an incredibly hot, multiple-orgasm-inducing man, he collapsed on top of me. I let him. I ran my hands over his sweat-dampened hair and the soft skin of his back and we both caught our breath. Then he started giggling. 

I pinched his ass. “What’s so funny, Kiszka?”

His head popped up and he propped himself on an elbow, a wide grin splitting his face in half, gorgeous. “I can’t believe we waited so long to do that, that might’ve been the best sex I’ve ever had.”

We both laughed as I slapped his chest. “Might be?!”

“Okay okay, you’re right.” He looked at me dreamily, his eyes bouncing around my face. “It was the best.”

Because I’m a woman, albeit a mind-blowing sex goddess, I started overthinking. I couldn’t help it! You should’ve seen the way he was looking at me. 

“Jake…” He lifted his eyebrows, I lifted a hand to his face, tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “What does this mean?”

Those eyebrows knitted together, a quick moment to think that over. Then he kissed me, soft and slow. 

“I don’t know what it means. But I do know this hotel has free breakfast downstairs, so be up and ready by nine.” His smile stretched again, and I couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Oooh, do you think they have French toast? That’s Sam’s favorite.”

He attacked me, tickled me until I had tears in my eyes, kissed me until I was breathless, and fell asleep with his arms around me.

The truth is, I don’t remember the exact moment I fell utterly, completely in love with Jake Kiszka. Maybe you should ask him. 

[sgt-scottymoreau]

Lay low and learn

Summary: Trying to pick up the pieces left behind after what happened 3 months ago, Scotty and Task Forces 141 found themselves in a dire situation that requires them to stay low and hidden for a while. But where to go in a country where you don't know who to trust anymore? Well Scotty might have a solution, but... can she reveals her secret to them? Can she trust them?

Warning: None.

Words: 5.9k // AO3 // Masterlist

A/N: Back to the main timeline with a fic that I have been work on ever since I created Scotty. An idea that I had back then, but I struggled so bad to feel in the gap between some scene, then wrote more fic that I could connect to it and eventually spend so long on the ending. Technically this is like a 2.0 version of it, I rewrote the whole thing after like a year(?) and honestly I'm just glad it's done! Italized text mean that they are speaking French here. For the sake of being used a lot and not wanting to have a character translate everything or such, I just did so.

It started like any other operation. The intel was good, their luck was running high and honestly nothing that made it feel like it would turn sour in a matter of hours. A cover mission to help the BSF after what happened 3 months prior with their ex commander. He apparently had more connection then they thought and even if he had by now been court martial, his allies were still roaming around. So, when the intel came in, they trusted it. They followed it till they realized that a very important detail was missing and now they were on the verge of a diplomatic incident with the French authority. For now the 141 had to cut themselves from everything, lay low till they could figure out a way to fix all of this. This is how they found themselves in the middle of nowhere in the countryside, in the darkest time of the night. 

"That ain't the worst that could happen to us." Soap tried to light up the mood.

"Sure, it's not like Laswell isn't coming for our asses after that." Gaz replied with a hint of sarcasm. "But being alive has its advantages."

"Very funny you two." Price groaned. "Well for now we should probably camp for the night. There’s nowhere to go until we figure out some plan." They all agreed. Despite the risk, they still lit a small fire so they could see what they were doing. After a quick meal from their rations, they made bed with whatever could be comfortable; their bag and some leaves. Wouldn't be the first time the night would be spent like this. Of course no sleeping under stars would be complete without taking shifts. The night started with Ghost on first watch, Gaz second, Price third. 

Price looked at the time on his watch. Three in the morning. It was time to wake Scotty up. He stretched his sore muscles and got up. He softly shook her shoulder. "Rise and shine, lass." He whispered. Scotty mumbled something but eventually woke up. "Everything is calm so far, hopefully it stays that way. At 6 you wake up Soap, understand?"

"Yes sir." She said, rubbing her eyes. Scotty took the spot next to the fire where everyone had been keeping an eye on the surroundings. It was eerily silent. She didn't mind it, but it also made her feel uneasy. Even the bugs weren't making a noise. Which was a little strange. She remembered all those summer nights where some cicadas would be annoying almost till early morning. Maybe the forest was different. At least the captain was right when he said all was calm.

She threw some small branches in the fire to keep some warmth, for a night in June, it was chilling. Her mind drifted for a moment, eyes lost in the dancing flames thinking about everything that happened. There was no real point in trying to understand why, but maybe it could give a foundation to their next step. She wondered if they could even attempt to contact the French authority and make them understand the reason. They were usually reasonable from what she remembered from her days in the BSF. However this time it was different. The team was not supposed to operate in the country without their knowledge and… it is precisely what they did. It would be hard to explain themselves. A rustle startled her. Her eyes scanned the surrounding, hand already on her gun. It was only Soap moving in his sleep. She let out a sigh of relief. However her body tensed up again when this time, it was a shadow she saw in the distance. It moved fast. The sergeant jumped on her feet, grabbing her pistol. As if her worriedness vibrated through the ground, the rest of the task force emerged from their sleep. She advanced toward the last position of the hostile. "Come out!" She ordered. "I know you are there and I won't hesitate to shoot!" 

A man came out, hand raised, and stood there. "I mean no harm." He explained in French. A civilian? No, not by his clothes. He looked different. "I'm with the AGIGN!" What in the world would they do here at night? Her gut feelings made her reach for her upper arm and rip the flag off her uniform before shoving it in her pocket. 

"What is going on here?" Price asked her once he was by her side. 

"GIGN, captain. Technically a sub branch of it." She replied, her eyes and gun never let go of the man. 

"Hey Thierry what is going on?" Another French voice came out. Five other men joined the one named Thierry, also surprised to see the 141. 

"Oh, on peut vous aider?" The probable captain of the group asked. 

"We don't speak French." Scotty said. Price looked at her from the corner of his eyes, his expression remaining calm despite her statement. He could see the frown and her concern. He understood that he should just play along. 

"My captain asked if we could help you." Thierry translated. He lowered his arms. 

"You are special forces? We could use some help to get in contact with our base. We need extraction." Price explained before the Frenchman translated. 

Scotty put back her pistol where it belonged, keeping an ear to what was being said. Thierry and his captain said that it wouldn't be a problem. They had their headquarters not far away, they were welcome there. The 141 grabbed their belongings and followed the men to their cars. Without much more, they climbed in, Soap and Ghost in one, Gaz, Scotty and Price in another. For this one time, Price wanted to keep her nearby. Especially that she was acting odd. 

"I thought you spoke French?" Gaz whispered to her once the engine was on and the vehicle drove off. 

"Let's just say it's better that way." She replied. Price gestured to Gaz that if Scotty thought so, it was better to follow. 

They drove them for an hour before stopping again. This looked like an old village, almost abandoned. The kind of village only locals would know of. "We have arrived at the HQ." Thierry said, getting out. The 141 did the same. 

"What base?" Soap inquired, not seeing anything as usual. Even if it was a makeshift one, he couldn't figure out anything that resembled it. 

"C'est un peu plus au nord, dans la montagne." The driver of their car said, not even caring about them understanding. Him pointing up the mountain gave them the idea that the base was maybe there. Some more walking to do. 

Soap, who was also wondering the same as Gaz approached Scotty as they walked back into the forest. "Why don't you talk with them?" 

"Because something is not right." She whispered. "I could be wrong, but I know the GIGN and I know that none of their branches are in this area." This small information was enough for them to be on high alert. They followed in silence. One thing Price couldn’t shake off since they were found by the AGIGN was how no one questioned what four British SAS officers and one unknown military personnel were doing in France, lost in the forest. He trusted and believed Scotty when she said something wasn't right. Because anyone with the slightest common sense would have been concerned.

While the Frenchmen chatted like they had nothing to worry about. Scotty tried her best to not reveal her secret, but Soap and Gaz wanting to know what was going on made it hard. She shortened the whole conversation to they were making fun of them because they are Brits, making comments on Ghost being scary and other small talk. 

"How long we still have to go?" Price asked. He was getting irritated that they had been walking for a long time without even a sign of being close to any building. 

"I'll ask." Thierry said. He looked nervous himself. "Captain, we should hurry, they are getting impatient." 

"Thierry, tell them we are almost there and everything is alright. Once we are in the clearing, a bullet for each one of them. They won’t even know what’s happening." 

Scotty, who was watching her footing, snapped her head back up and she stopped in her tracks hearing this. Every part of her body tensed up. Her arm flung in front of her captain to stop him, surprising everyone. "Fils de pute!" She yelled. Son of a bitch. All the Frenchmen moved a step back finally realizing what was going on. She took her gun and pointed at the French captain. "Captain, they plan to kill us! There never was a base!" 

"Son of bitches!" Soap cursed, raising his own weapon. It was only a matter of seconds now. The first to pull the trigger would save their team. The 141 reacted fast taking advantage of the Frenchs being shocked that someone had been listening all along. Their bodies dropped dead quickly. A better look at their uniforms confirmed Scotty's suspicions. They had a logo resembling AGIGN, but it was botched. Good enough to trick anyone from afar. After more look around, they connected these men to the terrorist they had tried to take down. If these men could find them in the middle of nowhere, the 141 definitely had to lay low for sure. Disappear. They walked back to the village, finding the cars still there. At least they could now travel easier.  

"Let's get out of here." Price ordered. "Gaz, you drive."

"Captain, with all your respect, I should be the one driving." Scotty interjected. "I probably know the region more than him." He agreed and took the passenger seat while the other three men squeezed in the back.

*****

She had been driving for an hour now. The dark sky was slowly lighting up on the horizon, a sign that the sun was making its breakthrough. Her eyes looked in the rear mirror, to see the three men still sleeping, even Price was softly snoring. The road signs began to look slightly blurry, reading the town and exit’s names was difficult. Tiredness was on the edge of her brain and she knew she had to stop soon. Scotty had two options. Stop and let Soap drive or keep driving till they are safe. There was a reason she decided to take the wheel. Well at first it was mostly a wild guess and hoping she was right. Once they hit the big road, Scotty did figure out they were in an area she knew well indeed. They weren’t too far now, if her brain could let her stay awake just a little longer. She finally took an exit, went through the center of town which was completely deserted at this time of the day, maybe the local bakers were already working, and took an old dirt road. 

His head hit the window after a small bump that made him emerge from his slumber. Price fully woke up when the engine came to a complete stop. Before he could comprehend what was going on, he saw Scotty walk out of the car to the house in the distance. He watched as she knocked at the door, waiting restlessly and when the door opened it looked like she was talking with the owner. Glancing at the radio’s clock, it was already five in the morning. A shifting from the back caught Price by surprise. Gaz moved up between the front seats. “What's going on?”

“We will see.” He pointed at Scotty who was jogging back to the car. 

“I asked these kind folks if we could stay for the rest of the ‘night’ and they said yes.” She explained.

“How did you convince them?” The captain wondered.

“Hmm… You know a simple little lie!” There was a hint of nervousness in her tone that he dismissed. If this place was safe enough, they might as well take the chance for now. The captain ordered everyone out, grabbed their bags and walked to the door.

A woman and her husband welcomed them in. They looked like they just had been awakened from their sleep and weren't exactly sure what was going on. "Bonsoir, we have some bedrooms for you, messieurs. Et madame." The woman said shyly. 

"Thank you ma'am. We won't be staying too long." Price reassured. The husband brought everyone upstairs and showed them the room. With a heavy accent he explained that the kids weren't home at the moment and they could use their room. Apologized for the mess the little ones might have left behind. Once everyone was tucked back in, Scotty made her way back to the kitchen on her tiptoes. Awakened by a second wind, she didn’t feel like sleeping at the moment. The woman was there making tea, and her husband grabbed three mugs. Scotty leaned on the counter as the woman put down the kettle. Her eyes glared at the sergeant.

"I haven't seen you in months, not even a phone call and you just show up at my door in the middle of the night!" The woman berated her.

"I'm sorry, Gabrielle!" Scotty apologized. "We were in the area and we need somewhere to lay low for a while and then we will be out."

"Cam, I have no problem with having you here, but I don't have enough to feed all of them. Have you seen their size! Even Nathan looks small next to them!" The husband raised an eyebrow unsure whether to take this as an insult or not. Camille assured her that it wouldn’t be a problem, she could also help with any extra groceries. Gabrielle sipped on her drink with a snort. “So much for wanting to keep your family out of your job. Who are these guys anyway?” 

Camille realized she had a lot to catch up with her sister. She was sure she had mentioned something about her new career path, but then again so much had happened she might have only mentioned being transferred to another country and didn’t mention the task force. A quick recap of all that happened since the beginning of this year was enough to bring Gabrielle up to speed. Sometimes, she wondered how sister could handle such a life. After their cup was done, Camille finally felt tiredness coming back and decided to give in. 

Later in the same morning, Scotty woke up feeling like last night was a terrible nightmare and wished that it was the case. But reality hit back when she woke up on the floor of a room decorated with stickers, posters of a football team and toys all over the carpet. Her body was stiff from the hard floor, the only spot she found to sleep on when she sneaked in the room. She pushed herself up holding down a groan of pain. Soap was still snoring in the very small bed. Ghost was sleeping on a mattress that was on the floor facing away from her. She caught herself staring at his shoulders that were slowly rising up and down. She approached to check if… Yes he still had the mask on. She smiled, that was crazy to her. Silently, she made her way out, at the same time Gaz came out of the other room. "Mornin'." He greeted her. 

"Morning, slept well?" 

"Oh, not so bad. Better than in the woods. Are Soa-" He was interrupted by her grabbing something from behind him. Gaz was quite surprised by this strange reaction, even more by the forced smile she put up. Was she hiding something? He was curious, however with the lack of really want to know what was going on, he simply let it go. "Are they still snoring?"

"Oh yes, sleeping like babies." The smell of eggs and fresh pastries reached their nose. Their stomachs growled. With a laugh they headed to the kitchen for some grub. Price was already there trying to help to set up the table. If he had to be a guest here, he would at least be a good one. The two others helped around till the last two finally woke up. After a good late breakfast, it was time to take it easy for a lack of knowing what to do. Eventually they discussed how long they should remain low. The consensus was at least a good week or two. Give time to whomever to clear them out of trouble. Hopefully Laswell or the BSF could help. The captain admitted that squatting here was an option, but also felt abusing the kindness of these people.

But Scotty told him it was fine, she talked with the owners and they were happy to have them around. He raised an eyebrow. She already did so? Without him knowing a single word of it until now? It sounded a little odd that some random French civilians would be so inclined to accept English military personnel in their house, but if they didn’t mind then so be it. Ghost didn’t touch much of his breakfast till Gabrielle and Nathan left the table to clean the dishes. Something Gabrielle commented in a whisper to Camille. The sergeant excused her lieutenant saying he usually never shows his face to anyone. If it could make Grabielle feel better she herself hadn’t seen his face yet either.

Later in the day, the couple said they would head to town for some extra groceries. Left alone in the house, it feels like a relief for Scotty. No more reason to play translator. Gabrielle and Nathan’s house was far from the town, maybe forty five minutes drive, surrounded by large terrain and trees. Not a destination anyone would go to by accident… You had to know exactly where they lived. A question Soap was too eager to ask, which she deflected by saying that she was simply looking for some place to stop for the night quickly and it was not unusual to have a house like this when she saw the off road path. The perfect spot to disappear.  

With not much to do, the boys helped around; chopping woods, cleaning the terrain, sparring with each other. Taking advantage that the owners were away to clean their guns and do an inventory check on their remaining gears. Scotty and Soap finished their last lap around the premises a little before the sun had completely set. Ghost was watching them arms crossed. “Takin’ vacation, sergeants?” He smiled behind his mask.

“If running half a marathon is considered vacation, sure.” Soap joked.

“You wish we ran one third of one.” Scotty rolled her eyes. Ghost leaned on the fence and looked at them. For a split second she swore her eyes met his and her gaze darted away quickly. Recently, Scotty didn’t know how to interact with him outside of mission. She tried hard to convince herself that it had nothing to do with the crush she was developing on him. It wasn’t high school anymore, who had crushes in their late 20s! But it was very obvious this was the reason. Scotty swore it all happened since that ops a few weeks ago, but it only became worse in the recent days. She knew the implication and problem that dating would cause, if he even returned the feeling and so she did all she could to keep it secret. Hoping it would one day fade away and it was indeed a small crush, nothing more. At least when the others were around, she was capable of keeping it together and not making a fool of herself.

On the fourth day, Scotty was on the porch watching the surroundings with Gabrielle next to her, enjoying a lemonade. It was rather warm today but that didn’t stop Ghost from still wearing his mask while chopping wood. “At this rate, Nathan won’t have to do anything until winter next year.” Gabrielle snorted. 

“I’m sure he will appreciate the time off. More time with the kids, unless he enjoys all the hard work.” She teased. Taking a sip of her drink, Camille gaze lingering on Ghost from afar. Only with a t-shirt on, his muscles tensing and being defined at each movement, his tattoo out in the open, the fabric tight on his chest as sweat made it stick to his skin. It was a sight for sore eyes. She couldn’t take her eyes off him even if the more she watched the hotter the weather was. Or it was her. A little detail Gabrielle noticed and was too happy to point out.

“Someone is in love.” She teased, nudging her. Camille turned fast to her with a glare and red cheeks.

“I’m not!” 

“Oh please, you have this look you always had when you were looking at your crushes. You can’t fool me. What are you finally settling down after all these years? It’s about time.”

Camille took another sip of her drink to cool off a little.“I’m not like I used to be in the army. I calmed down a while ago, you should know. But even then Gab. It’s not like I could do anything about it for a various number of reasons. There’s rules! Anyway, it might pass.”

Gabrielle nodded, not believing her entirely on the idea that it would pass.. “But seriously from all these men, you go for the one with that creepy mask, who barely talks and feels he could kill you in your sleep. You are weirdo.” Camille laughed at her insult and nudged her. She missed their casual teasing.

After a week, everyone was rather itching to go back into action. Vacations were always welcome, but most of the days were the same because no one could go out to town for a change of scenery. It was getting boring. Till the woman of the house took Scotty aside. Nathan had left earlier this morning without saying why. While the men were talking about something, Gabrielle spoke up about a little detail that was worrying her. “Camille, listen, we might have a problem.” 

“If it’s money, I can help. Just tell me and I can pay for it.” Camille did agree that all five of them did eat their fair share of food with not so small portions. She did feel bad for her sister, however also teased her that this was only a trial to show her how it will be when the kids will be teens. 

“No not that, although I wouldn’t refuse that. But that’s not it! If you wanted to keep us a secret, it might be complicated. Nathan’s parents called. The twins were at their place for two weeks and there was a problem in their house. The boys have to come back home.” The information hit Camille like a rock to the face. Gabrielle and her husband understood the importance of playing along but her nephews? Not a chance they keep it down. She let out a swear loud enough that even without understanding the language, the 141 turned their heads. She gestured that it was nothing. Her sister confessed that Nathan should be back in an hour or less by now. Scotty’s heart sank down her feet. She had barely time to make a choice. Either tell her teammates about her family and trust them or say nothing and hope to catch the kids before they come in. However Gabrielle wasn’t too keen on allowing her children to lie when she always told them it was bad. But was it so bad if it meant to protect them? Gabrielle apologized for putting her in such a situation on short notice, but they themselves learned about it only last night, hence why Nathan left so early in the morning. 

Scotty took a deep breath and joined in the conversation of the boys. However it was easy to see her uneasiness. Price’s mind raced to try to figure out what could cause this. Would they need to leave this place? Wouldn’t be surprising. Did things turn sour and they will have to remain hidden longer? No, he would be the first one to know. “Everything is alright Scotty?” 

“Well, I don’t know how to explain this.” She started. “You know we all have our secrets right… Things we don’t want others to know, like Ghost and his face.” It made them laugh, except for Ghost who crossed his arms.

“Just spit it out, sergeant.” He said, rolling his eyes. Scotty opened her mouth to explain. The door flung open with a man shouting in the back and two small humans bursted in. 

“Auntie Camcam!” They both shouted jumping on her, completely ignoring the four men sitting on the couches. All of them looked at her surprised and she timidly smiled. The kids started to ask her plenty of questions till one of them noticed the 141 and they went silent quickly. The twins watched each man carefully. They looked like giants! One of the boys grabbed at Camille's jeans half hiding behind her, while his brother looked much more enthusiastic. 

"La tête de mort il est trop cool!" He said pointing at the masked man. Ghost tilted his head to look at the boy. It was his usual look, nothing out of the ordinary. But the twin hiding being Scotty started to sob. She quickly kneeled to his level to reassure him.

"Je veux pas que la mort t'emmène!" He started to cry. She hushed him, promising that this was not Death but just a man with a mask.

"Tout va bien Mathéo. Il ne te fera rien." Camille said, kissing him on the forehead. Mathéo stuck his tongue out at him, still upset and ran to his mom. The 141 looked at her eager to know what just happened. Even if they had a little idea. 

"Nicolas found Ghost cool while Mathéo thought you were Death coming to take me. I had to reassure him that that was not the case." Soap didn't hold his chuckles as she translated. Neither did Gaz and even Price had an amused smile on his face. 

"Maybe Lt should take off his mask or the lad won't come out ever again." Soap teased. Ghost shook his head and firmly reiterated that the mask stayed on. Gabrielle hushed the boys to their room, leaving the task force alone. Scotty felt very uneasy at the moment. The silence was heavy.

‘’I took a risk by bring you here, but this was the only safe place I could think of back then.’’ She let out after a while. “I really wanted to keep it a secret.”

‘’Everyone wants to keep their family safe, especially with our job.’’ Price reassured her. ‘’That would explain why they have been so kind to keep us for so long.’’  

Scotty chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. It indeed explained a lot. Even if she knew that they had no issue with that, Scotty was torn between everything. She never planned on revealing the location of her family. It was a calculated risk that she thought of with a very tired mind when it all happened and yes when her sister admitted that the twins weren’t home, it did sound like it would all work out for the best. The sergeant just wanted everyone to be safe on all sides. She barely knew the 141, only for a few months and she knew she could trust them in a way, but Scotty still had this feeling that she did something wrong. Even her old colleagues only knew she had family somewhere and that was it. They never saw a picture, even less met them in person. But what was done was done, she can’t change anything she might as well live with it and hope for the best.

Later that night, they were all around the table for dinner. Scotty didn’t have a second for herself. Flanked, surrounded, ambushed with the twins who kept asking questions about her work and babbling about what they learned at school recently and what they were doing at their grandparents. Gabrielle had to intervene so they would let her eat in peace. The sergeant said that nothing could surpass the children's interrogation which made everyone laugh.

Scotty went to grab a plate that was slightly further from her. Ghost, noticing that she was obviously struggling to get it, kindly helped by handing it. For a second, their fingers touched each other. Scotty thanked him, her cheeks already coloring with a soft pink. A reaction that didn’t go unnoticed by her sister, nor nephews. Mathéo tugged on her sleeve so she could lean and he whispered in her ear. Whatever the little one asked, it was enough to make her face turn red and straighten up quickly. 

“What did he say?” Soap asked amused. 

“N-nothing! Nothing important. No Matt I-I don’t.”

“But you are all red just like when mom gets a compliment from dad!” That remark made his parents chuckle as well. Camille suddenly really wished this dinner could be over already and was oh so glad none of her teammates knew French. At least the rest went without an itch. After dessert, Nicolas tried his best to interrogate the rest of the task force. Mathéo on his side simply stayed in his aunt’s arm in silence, listening. Soap and Gaz answered to the best they could, having some fun along the way. Making their stories more unbelievable sometimes as well as much more kid friendly. Price shook his head with a smile. To Scotty this moment reminded her when her dad would be telling her stories of his deployments. These were the days, the innocence of a child. Eventually, the twins crashed from their busy day. Their energy completely drained and they passed out quickly. The parents picked up their children and brought them upstairs. 

After an eventful day, Scotty needed a break. She headed outside, walked a few meters away from the house and lay down on the grassy ground. It wasn’t comfortable but the view made it all worth it. Being far from any town, Gabrielle’s house offered a clear view of the stars. Left alone with her thoughts a lot of turmoil resurfaced. On one hand she felt like a hypocrite to be demanding to protect her family when she was the one who took the decision, on the other she knew it would all be fine. Did she regret bringing the task force here? A little perhaps. But at the time, it was the only safe place she knew of and they needed it. Would she do it again if a situation demanded it? Most likely. The safety of her teammate was as important as her family. Deep down, Scotty was aware that this need to keep her family secret came from make up scenarios, horror stories she heard again and again in the past years. There was no need to be so mysterious about her loved ones. Most of her work was done in the shadows rarely engaging with any enemies who would make retribution 

But. 

What if? The lingering question that made her so worried. She let out a deep sigh as the turmoil cleared out of her mind leaving her alone with the stars. The sound of the crunching peebles and gentle rustle of the grass caught her attention, but she remained in her position. Whoever it was, it was friendly. The smell of cigar gave away who stopped next to her. Scotty started to push herself to sit, but Price gestured to stay still. With a groan, he saw on the grass, arms resting on his knees. “It’s a nice view.” He simply said. 

“The first time my sister invited me to her house after they bought it, I spent all night outside.” She smiled. They remained silent for a little while. 

“I understand it might have been a hard call to make, but I’m glad you did so. Scotty, you know we won’t betray your family.” Price said casually blowing off the smoke. “No matter what.”

She pushed herself in a sitting position. “Thanks Cap. … Can I speak freely sir?” The captain nodded. “If anything happens to them, you are the first ones I’ll go after, no friendship will change that.”

“A little dark side of yours?” He had a playful grin on his face. She returned the playfulness, but Price knew she meant what she said. “I promise it will never come up to this, lass. No worries.”

As they watched the sky they saw it. A shooting star flew in the dark blue. Jokingly Scotty told the captain they should make a wish. Price scoffed. They stargazed a little longer, till maybe five minutes later, his phone buzzed. The brightness of the device illuminated his face, he had to squint a little the time his eyes adjusted to the light. A heavy frown lowered on his eyebrows. An unknown number had sent him something. You and your team are cleared and can return home. Laswell sends her regards. Tell Kabouter hello, she will understand.

Price read the message out loud to the sergeant who couldn't help herself but chuckle at his pronunciation of kabouter. “Who is that?”

“Someone we can trust, captain. An old friend of mine at the BSF.” Scotty stood up and dusted herself off. “I suppose it’s time to go home.”

“I know some lads who will be happy to.” Price stood up a few of his joints cracking. Years of hard work.

****

When the news was brought to the others about their probable departure, the rest of the task force was rather glad that their unprompted vacation came to an end after only a week! Laswell eventually contacted the captain with more information and where safe areas they could reach to return to England. They would need to find a way to reach any of them which was a little logistic problem but they can figure something out. Gabrielle, although sad to say goodbye to her sister, was also happy to see them leave. There were a lot of people in the house for far too long. The only two who were devastated by the news were the twins. They barely had the chance to see their aunt long enough and they just met these four awesome men! It took a little time to make them understand why they had to leave. 

They finally embarked on a plane in a military base nearby who could provide them transportation back home. In a little more than an hour, everything will be done. The five of them allowed themselves to completely let the pressure down, relaxing at the thought of home. 

“So who wants to join in for a drink?” Gaz proposed as they barely stepped a foot on the tarmac.

“Didn’t we spend enough time together?” Scotty chuckled and threw her bag over her shoulder.

“Aye! Count me in.” Soap replied. “Come on Scotty, one drink and then you can go home.”

She lifted her finger to emphasis on the only one drink. The captain excused himself, rather liking to get on with some paperworks. They shouldn’t forget about it. Ghost was on the same page as Price. Ghost passed behind her and stopped for a second. “You have a nice family.” was all he said in a monotone tone. 

Scotty was a little taken aback by this comment. What did he mean? Why? Nonetheless. “Uh thanks sir.”

Her eyes lingered a little longer on him as he walked away, discreetly biting her lower lip till Soap pulled her out of whatever thoughts that were forming in her mind. Right, drinking with friends now, thinking about her crush, later.

[found-family-tournament]

Found Family Tournament Round 1 Part 3 Group 12

Propaganda and further pictures under the cut

The Mechanisms: Jonny d'Ville, Nastya Rasputina, the Starship Aurora, Ashes O'Reilly, Ivy Alexandria, Drumbot Brian, the Toy Soldier, Marius von Raum, Raphaella la Cognizi, (& Scuzz Nishimura)

Scooby Gang: Shaggy, Daphne, Fred, Delma, Scooby

Submissions are still open!

The Mechanisms:

Out-of-universe, the Mechanisms are a folk band of musicians playing fictional onstage personas, formerly the backing band of Dr. Carmilla before splitting off to become their own thing. In-universe, the Mechanisms are a band of immortal space pirates and their sapient ship Aurora roving through the multiverse, having adventures as well as causing general carnage and mayhem, in addition to occasionally writing music about their experiences and performing before a live (though not always for long), at times captive audience.

They are,,,, so chaotic. They are composed of, in order: a cannibalistic war criminal from Space Texas, the lost princess Anastasia Romanova from Cyborg Space Russia, her sapient starship girlfriend who used to be a moon for an alternate version of Earth before being kidnapped by Cyborg Space Russia, an arsonist gangster who burned down their entire planet, an archivist who is nice enough up until you damage her books (in which case RUN), a doctor who was repeatedly and separately convicted for heresy and witchcraft and currently pilots the ship, a wooden soldier that is Not Real, But Very Good At Pretending To Be, a war criminal from another version of Earth who blew up the moon, an amnesiac mecha pilot who is the ship's doctor and self-appointed psychiatrist despite NOT being qualified for either, and a severely unethical scientist who is perfectly willing to cause catastrophic international disasters if it gets her interesting results for her "experiments". Oh, and also a space ninja who visits sometimes. Not sure what her deal is.

What's more, they're chaotic evil. Because when you're immortal for long enough, you morals end up skewing so far outside of the box they're hardly even in the same galaxy anymore, because things get stale pretty quickly if you keep doing the same thing over and over again for tens of thousands of years and besides, tens of thousands of years is a long time to go through without experiencing some of the more exciting avenues life has to offer. Doesn't really help that a bunch of them weren't the best of people before becoming immortal either. As a result, what most people would call a string of horrific atrocities/mass destruction, the Mechanisms call a particularly interesting Tuesday. Among their canonical crimes include: destroying a sun, orchestrating the collapse of several civilizations, very armed robbery, brainwave piracy, terrorism, neuro-arson, unlicensed foul language, criminal enterprising, grand theft mecha, starting various cults, whatever 'aethercide' and 'grand theft aether' mean, as well as literally every single crime imaginable except for the sexual ones (specific to Jonny, who is implied to be aspec. he really might as well have been doing a completionist speedrun of that specific planet's constitution at the time). Also, none of them are cishet.

The thing is though, the thing is-- all of them are so unfathomably old. It's been thousands of years and they can't die, not even when they put a bullet between each others' eyes every so often to get some peace and bloody quiet. And ultimately they cannot die, not until the narrative has deemed their roles finished, because above all the Mechanisms act as witnesses to the universe and all the stories therein; sometimes watching passively, sometimes taking a decidedly active role, sometimes something in between. And ultimately, there is no one else in the multiverse who can understand them as much as each other -- how it feels to die and come back immortal, how it feels to be trapped by the whims of a primal force of nature, how it feels to grieve every time they're forced to send the mortals they've just gotten attached to off to die because it is their destiny, how the sameness and endlessness of it all wears them down and can drive them mad if they're not careful. In a world that is ever-changing and reinventing itself in impermanence, as countless stories across countless worlds spring from humble beginnings only to crash and burn in a thousand ways towards the end, they are each others' landmark, the place they return to whenever it's time to stop playing at gods or sovereigns or conquerors or prophets. They're unbelievable shitheads towards each other but they also care deeply, which is pretty remarkable considering Aurora can't go lightspeed so they have to travel through space the old-fashioned way. I mean, you try living on a ship with the same eight/nine people for centuries at a time as you travel between star systems? Insane, frankly.

Which is also why it absolutely crushes me that for all the time they've spent together, all of them inevitably end up dying alone.

Scooby Gang:

They’re a bunch of besties who solve silly mysteries with their dog. Iconic

[genericpuff]

Alright, update on the tablet situation, I do NOT have good news but there are some silver linings.

First off, thank you all so much for your patience. That one week I took off to relax seemed to be an invitation for the universe to fuck with my shit because my tablet literally chose the worst time to get on my nerves ( This is totally not something I'm gonna bring up with my therapist as proof that I'm not allowed to rest /s) I've tried just about everything to get it working again, I got a replacement 3-in-1 cable and even that didn't do anything, so I've ordered in a new pen, but that's not due to show up for another week or two.

However, I do not want to wait a week or two on the off chance that a new pen even solves the problem.

So the GOOD NEWS in all this is that I do still have my iPad. It wasn't setup with Clip Studio Paint because I own a perpetual license for my PC, but seeing as how now I can't use it on my PC (at least not with my tablet pen) I've gone ahead and setup the mobile version on my tablet, thankfully I got a discount because I already own a perpetual license but it's still gonna cost me $10/month so that's yet another subscription to slap on the 'ole credit card.

Now that does mean I have to go through the painstaking efforts of moving everything from my PC onto my tablet, but thankfully that issue is easily solved with cloud backups and transferring. Really all I need to be able to do is draw, I can still do speech bubbles and text input and texture overlays and all that post-production stuff on my PC, but anything that requires actual drawing I'm gonna be using my iPad for. So please, don't mind if you notice some weird little art differences between Episode 30 and 29, I'm adjusting to a new workflow! It shouldn't be too bad because I'll still be using the exact same brushes and textures and all that fun stuff that I do on my PC, it just comes with the adjustment of drawing primarily on iPad, which I don't normally do (I usually only draw on my iPad for tattooing and that's in Procreate which I still suck at using outside of lineart LMAO)

This is a very stressful situation that I'm hoping will only be temporary until I get that new tablet pen, and if THAT doesn't solve the issue, then I'm gonna have to start shopping for a new tablet entirely, and that's not something I can do immediately because I'm already starting to struggle financially due to the slow season creeping in at work and I'm still paying off that new PC I put down on layaway (which I'm regretting already). All that said, if you want to help a pal out, please consider tossing a dollar or two at me on my Ko-Fi, it's all gonna go towards a new drawing tablet if I need it (and if the pen solves the issue, then you'll be helping me stay afloat so I can keep bringing you guys the good shit LOL)

What's wild is that in all my Google searching, I found a thread from two months ago with literally the EXACT same issue, under the exact same conditions, in which OP's tablet pen unexpectedly stopped registering with their Huion Kamvas 22 Plus that they had owned for two years. According to them, it did start working again, after resetting the PC and re-installing the driver over and over again, but I've already done that myself a ton of times and I'm tired of being let down and that doesn't seem like a "real" solution beyond luck, so I'm gonna take a break from doing that while I get my iPad set up. I have the sneaking suspicion this might have to do with some recent Windows updates that just rolled out, my PC had definitely gone through a couple leading up to the malfunction. This wouldn't be the first time Microsoft has fucked with my tablet functionality so I literally wouldn't be surprised if it was something like that. Either that, or the '2' in Kamvas 22 stands for "will only last for 2 years before stopping entirely" LOL

Anyways, that's all for now. Thank you all so much for your patience and understanding through all this. While I don't want to have to reduce the quality or frequency of what I put out for you guys due to technical issues, I also don't want the comic to stop entirely, so if this turns into one of those desperate situations where I'm delivering you guys episodes of Rekindled drawn on a Nintendo DS, so be it. I'm not gonna let this beat me.

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "A Story Told at Last"

This short three shot was my first offering for the second @cssns event in 2019. I had a really lovely time using a more grown up version of Henry out in the "real" world, as well as keeping Violet (who I always liked) in the picture. I got to use my love of literature a bit in this one, making it Henry's profession, and I took my first early stab at a ghost story element for the supernatural. I think the main thing to bear in mind is that, while Henry is our Henry in personality, he is not Emma's son. Emma and Killian exist in a whole other time - the one he is studying... ;)

If you missed this one originally, I hope you will enjoy this offering. And if you did read it before, I'd love to hear if you enjoy your revisit!

Thanks once again to @branlovestowrite who did the cover art at the time for the event - I still simply adore it!!!

{Also available on AO3, if that's your preference

I've put all 3 parts in this post for reader convenience}

Summary: Historical Literature Professor Henry Mills has the chance of a lifetime before him. He might finally uncover the truth of a folktale that has intrigued him for years. But, when the whole story comes to light, will he be able to accept the story that needs to be told?

~Prologue~

The young man moved quietly through dusky shadows in the long-abandoned building, brushing aside cobwebs with a grimace of distaste, his flashlight trained well in front of him, and walking with slow care, trying valiantly not to disturb anything more than necessary in his path. Henry Mills was still holding his breath more than a bit in awe that he had finally been allowed the permits and permissions, not to speak of the grant money which had brought him here and allowed him to focus solely on his research, and that he was standing within the deserted tower ruins of a long vanished kingdom’s outer borders. He had dreamed of seeing this structure’s remains since the legend had first crossed his desk, unfounded but also unforgettable until he explored it for himself. Drawing in another steadying breath and squaring his shoulders, Henry moved forward once again, anxious to see all that he could before he lost the last bit of evening sun.

He would be back tomorrow of course, with his team and full daylight, and all the equipment needed to properly identify, catalogue, and preserve anything of historical value or interest they might find. Still, he couldn’t resist the chance to get a first look at this place that had held his curiosity for so long, especially when he only had to share it with frogs, cicadas, and the droning gnats. Soon enough this site would be buzzing with other historians, researchers, and anyone else on the approved team, and Henry yearned for a moment on hallowed ground, beneath the crumbling walls and mouldering ceiling, in the dreamy half-dark when it could be his alone. He didn’t know what treasures they might find, or if they would unearth anything new at all, but the storyteller’s heart that beat beneath his grey henley and respectable historian’s facade couldn’t help sensing that the very walls around him were holding their breath as much as he was, anxiously awaiting the right explorer to at last reveal their secrets.

Regardless of the venture’s outcome, Henry still found it hard to believe he was in Italy; seeing the world, traveling on his own quest for knowledge and adventure, just as he had always known he was meant to do. He was still considered quite young for a history professor, and this would be the first field mission he had led. Granted, to most folks who weren’t history buffs or fans of Renaissance literature and its roots, the remains of the stone structure around him that they would catalogue and examine in the next week would not have been delighted enough to go without sleep just dreaming of the treasures and tales they might find, but Henry Mills had never been one to do as most others would.

The particular result he hoped to achieve was to find some sign or proof of the princess Emmaline, the protagonist of that tale which had sparked his interest nearly four years ago. History had at least partially buried her existence, or much knowledge of her beyond the ranks of myth and legend. But, if what Henry had learned was true, she had once been imprisoned by the same walls he was standing within. A younger sibling had ascended the throne in her place, and Emmaline had disappeared from all records of the kingdom which had eventually become extinct itself.

The story Henry had uncovered told of strange happenings beginning to occur around the beautiful golden daughter of King David and Queen Margaret of Misthavia once the young princess reached her sixteenth year. Injuries to those who might have slighted her, accidents and damages - coincidences all, but their frequency had reached the point that her involvement could no longer be hidden, and her people had begun to fear her. It seemed that Princess Emmaline had even been deemed a witch by some, and at last the king and queen had been forced to hide their daughter away for her own safety.

There had also been - at least as related in several varied sources - a handsome young lieutenant in the Misthavian royal navy who had long been in love with the hidden princess. This young sailor had vehemently protested the decision to lock Emmaline away, much less the eventual denial of her birthright. So the story had gone, this lieutenant had eventually left the king and queen’s service due to the rift, and as incongruous as it sounded, turned pirate in her honor, as he left with a ship to seek her in exile and rescue his love.

Still, by any account Henry had been able to locate, whatever had truly happened, if Princess Emmaline had existed at all, she had never taken the throne of her kingdom. The rather tiny Misthavia, along the Tyrrhenian Sea had been subsumed into the rest of the larger country and ceased to be a separate entity in the modern world. To his scholarly, and curious, mind however, what became of the lost princess, hidden in her tower, remained an irresistible mystery.

For the moment he was not willing to risk discovery and be banned from the site before his official work even began, so Henry did not linger. He closed his eyes, breathing in the somewhat musty air that somehow, to his mind, also brought hints of spring rain, apple blossoms, weathered wooden planks, leather and sea salt. Shaking his head at his own ridiculously detailed imagination - now bringing him scents even, as well as hoped for sights and stories - Henry turned to carefully make his way back out of the rocky rumble, avoiding an overturned settee frame with bits of ripped upholstery clinging to it and a few floorboards, whose soundness appeared debatable. Watching where he was placing his feet and the path back to the entrance in the beam of his flashlight, he failed to notice that materializing behind him, wispy white and hazy against the deepening gloom within the old walls, two shadows, almost corporeal but not quite, were silently watching him go…

~***~

~Part One~

By the time Henry had returned to the Universitá di Bologna housing,where he and his team of advanced grad students were staying for the duration of their research trip in Italy, he was more than a bit anxious to reach his temporary quarters and go back through the copious research notes he had taken and goals he’d laid out in preparation before finally standing within the crumbling skeleton of his historical site - what remained of the once-stunning tower. Having now glimpsed it with his own eyes in the still shadows and dying light of evening, Henry was almost breathless with excitement and the desire to compare what he had seen with the numerous possible finds he had deemed likely. Already, he was itching to return at dawn’s first light with his team and equipment.

The heavy feeling in the air of another presence - of not being alone in the ruins, though his logical mind knew he must have been - had been easily shaken off once he returned to the city from the more remote location. The sound and bustle of the modern world - phones, cars, the press of crowds - melted away the icy shiver that had traced down his spine and put it well out of his thoughts. For several minutes now (nearer to three hours in point of fact, though his mind, caught up in more interesting details, had lost all track of time) he had been leafing through his reference manuals, maps and notes, packed and then unpacked again meticulously upon arrival, when a soft rapping on his door roused him from the fevered state he’d slipped into.

Shaking his head, and hazily pulling himself back into the present time and place, Henry drew a steadying breath, reminding himself that he was a skilled and credentialed professor of historical literature, not the teenage fanboy he’d once been and currently felt like again; he should show a bit more composure to whomever waited to speak with him in the hall. Opening the door, however, his eyes widened momentarily, in spite of his recent resolve, to find his brightest and most accomplished research assistant facing him.

Violet Clemens had actually graduated from the university’s history program two years before, but knowing the particular interest she would have in this research opportunity, Henry had contacted the museum he knew she now worked with when there had been spots left to fill in their group. Violet, with her pale, dewy complexion and ebony hair shining as it rested on her shoulders, not to mention her effortlessly elegant and tasteful way of dressing and carrying herself in a sea of her contemporaries wearing shirts cut so low and pants and skirts so tight that they left little to the imagination, had always stood out and seemed a bit of an old soul out of her time. Despite her keen intellect and quick wit, Henry had always been glad her degree focus leaned more toward historical art and architecture rather than his historical literature. While her complimentary knowledge would serve well in this venture to supplement his own, he had at the time feared becoming completely charmed by her if he’d had her in class on a regular basis.

Trying to shake all those thoughts from his frazzled and rather unfocused mind, Henry gave her a curious but friendly smile before speaking. “Miss Clemens, what can I do for you this evening?”

Violet flushed prettily, her cheeks pinking as her gaze fell to her toes for a moment before glancing back up to meet his. “I’m sorry, Professor Mills. I know it’s late. I was just wondering...I mean…” she finally blurted the rest out in a rush “...you went out to see it already, didn’t you? What was it like?”

Henry truly couldn’t hold back his wide grin at her question. Another person who held the same enthusiasm for the princess and the ruin of her family’s legacy, was not someone he came across often, and a part of him basked in having someone to share the thrill with - someone who just might understand. “You’re not a student anymore,” he offered with a self-deprecating chuckle. “You don’t have to call me Professor. But, to answer your question, yes I’ve been out there and it was incredible. Even with the light failing, it took my breath away.”

Violet merely nodded, taking his words in with an awed smile on her lips. “Oh, I can’t wait to see it for myself,” she murmured. Then a twinkle of mischief flitted into her eyes as she added, “but if you no longer want me to call you Professor, then you’d better just call me Violet.”

“Deal,” Henry affirmed, reaching out a hand which she took to shake on their agreement. The moment their hands were clasped together, a tremor of awareness caught him off guard, running up his arm with a heat and intensity that surprised him. Though he’d heard of such reactions to another many times in the books he’d read and stories he loved, he had never experienced anything so arresting in real life.

“Well, then, Henry,” Violet added, taking her hand back, though he didn’t think he was imagining the sudden breathiness of her voice and the way she shook her head as if to refocus, causing her dark waves of hair to shimmer. “I guess I should leave you in peace for now. We want to get an early start tomorrow after all.”

“That we do,” Henry agreed, seeing her to the door and hoping he wasn’t smiling wide enough to make him look giddy. Once she was gone, he leaned back against the solid oak, shaking his head in disbelief.  It would seem this adventure was going to bring about more than one incredible discovery.

~~~~~~~~~~~***~

The next morning dawned all too early for Henry’s taste; his alarm waking him from such a solid sleep that for a full minute he was too bleary to remember where he was at all. Between the jet lag and staying up another two hours pouring over notes and manuscripts to be certain he was prepared for their first day cataloguing finds onsite, he wasn’t sure he would even be able to pry his eyes open without coffee. It was almost funny to think back now on the days when he used to laugh at his mom and stepdad for their need to have a hot chocolate and black coffee respectively before they could face their days. He understood all too well as an adult.

Once he got himself moving, saw himself down to the continental breakfast provided on the first floor, and was waiting at the van to make sure all his assistants and fellow scholars were on time for the ride out, Henry did begin to feel more awake and alive. It wasn’t long before their small group had gathered, all had been accounted for, and they were loading onto the van. Rolling out of the city proper and into the Italian countryside, Henry began to lay out his game plan for the day, and the rest of his lethargy was swept back by excitement and purpose. 

When they reached the ruins, gathered the tools, instructions, and research which would guide them, they all stood a bit awed, gazing up at the remnants of the tower walls before them, quite possibly full of clues to be discovered. His travel mug providing a further jolt of caffeine as he took a last sip, he then stepped forward to begin directing the tasks to various assistants.  Those with him moved out with care through the ancient, crumbling bricks and mortar, leftovers from an exiled life, off in the directions he had indicated. Undeniably, her felt more than a bit of pride wash over him at the gravity and industry his little group displayed in tackling their assignments. The members of his team were clearly well-chosen.

He wasn’t, however, too selfless to have left one particular team member for last, to work with him one-on-one. Henry firmly fought down the urge to fidget with the hem of his shirt or stutter nervously as Violet edged closer to his side once they stood relatively alone. Her eyes were shining as they drank in the sight before her, more than a bit stunned and affected if her hushed voice was any way to judge. “It’s… splendid…” she nearly whispered, clearly struggling for the right words.

Henry nodded wordlessly, then turned to explain what he hoped to get her help with, just as Violet looked up to him and they bumped into each other awkwardly, both stumbling away a step and chuckling. His hand darted out to catch her elbow, not wanting to knock her to the ground, and Violet wavered closer at the touch unconsciously.

“Oh, Profess - Henry… I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…”

He waved her off gently, “No apology needed. I bumped into you just as much… Vi...olet…” His tongue tangled on her given name as if he were still thirteen and worried about it squeaking. “I mean, there’s no harm done. As long as you’re alright?”

The young curator flushed prettily and nodded with her reassurance of “Absolutely, I’m fine. What did you intend for the two of us to work on?” She was clearly anxious to shed her embarrassment - and to explore this place they both had fallen in love with before even reaching, but for a moment Henry was stymied. He couldn’t speak or think, so struck was he by the intelligence and enthusiasm shining in her eyes and the classical beauty of her face. He wondered helplessly how visitors to her workplace could appreciate any of the art hanging on its walls with Violet standing before them.

Her light touch on his forearm finally brought him back to the moment as she asked again, “Henry? Was there someplace in particular you wanted to start?” Even as those curious words escaped her, Violet’s chocolate-y brown eyes widened noticeably, this time unmistakably also feeling the same jolt of electricity that ran along Henry’s skin where her fingers touched.

Valiantly seeking to ignore the attraction fighting for his attention, Henry redirected his focus to the curious detail he had noticed the evening before, leading his partner toward what still stood of the column that had once been part of the support to a vaulted ceiling. It seemed obvious to him, again if the details of the legend he had heard were true, that this tower had once been an incredibly lovely haven - even if to its inhabitant it had proved a gilded cage. Which was why an oddity in the surface had caught his attention upon first look. There appeared to be a spot where the join between the two sides of the arch didn’t match up - a strange and careless anomaly in a building that otherwise had the look of careful and exquisite design in the other parts that remained.

Pointing up to the spot he had seen, Henry directed Violet’s eyes to the same strange seam that he had noticed. Hearing Violet’s surprised little intake of breath and the way she immediately stepped forward, tracing careful fingers along the obvious malformation in curiosity, told Henry he had indeed been onto something. Soon Violet nodded to herself, drawing closer yet, both hands now up to help in her exploration, and seemingly forgetting Henry, the bustling site, and everyone else around in her rapt focus. 

“Often times,” she murmured lowly without looking away from the movement of her fingers on the old stone, now gingerly but determinedly probing and prying, “in buildings of this age - especially ones which would have belonged to families of importance - an inconsistency like this might often indicate…” she paused for a moment, wedging her finger into the impossibly small opening she had managed to pry, the very tip of her tongue peeking from between her lips in concentration adorably (to Henry’s mind at least).

“Ah ha!” she exclaimed in a breath of triumph, the arch giving enough for what appeared a hidden panel to fall open and a still dully glistening bronze object to fall into her open palms. “As I was saying,” she continued proudly, “might indicate a hidden compartment for items of value.”

Beaming with excitement, Violet held her prize up for Henry’s inspection. In her hands lay an ornate, yet solidly constructed compass on a chain. The piece appeared to have some definite age on it, and yet its quality and beauty still shone through. It looked like an instrument which would have been used for ship navigation on sea voyages prior to the advent of modern navigational systems, and Henry’s thoughts could not keep from flying to the princess’ lieutenant of the stories and tales. Might this artifact serve as his first major proof of the legend that had captured his imagination?

His gaze lifted from the compass to meet Violet’s expectant one, ready to speak his hopes. But, even as he did so, the sound (or so he could only imagine) of a sword at someone’s hip as they moved and the creak of leather arrested Henry’s ear. He turned, startled, at such an incongruous noise for a research site, only to find that no one stood anywhere near he and Violet, as if the sound had come from nowhere beyond his own imagination.

Uncertain eyes flew to his companion, who looked back at him in concern, but Henry forced himself to swallow the strange impression he’d had, sure he would sound crazy if he brought up what he’d heard. Instead, they wrapped and catalogued their find properly for transport back with them, talking about what it could mean… and to whom they both had to wonder if it might once have belonged.  Even in the elation of success and discovery, the feeling of lingering over his shoulder did not leave Henry easily, staying with him for the rest of the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~***~

That evening after dinner, once more in his quarters for the night, Henry’s thoughts were still on the compass as he plunged back into his accounts and stories, all the information on the Princess and her legend, and though he had mostly committed to memory all that was before him, he still pored over the details in hopes of a mention of the compass they had found in order to confirm his suspicions.

As the team leader, items discovered and picked for transport or further research had been logged and stored with him. And though Henry attempted to reason the need away, tried to convince himself that there were no details he had missed, nothing else to see, and that he needed to go to bed, to not spend another night with too little sleep, and instead be rested and well-prepared for the next day’s work, he was still impelled to stand and go over to take out the compass once more; the need would not be denied.

Once the instrument was cradled in his hands, the weight of it steadying to a surprising degree, Henry sunk down on the side of his bed, scrutinizing the relic with focused curiosity. What was he still missing?  Several deep breaths, a few pounding heartbeats, went by as he pondered the instinct guiding him.

Then, with a disconcerting effect that shook him and sent a tremor down his spine, the air around him seemed to waver, undulating dizzily and clouding the borrowed room before his very eyes. Drawing in a shuddering breath, Henry blinked, in hopes of clearing his sight, only to find his perception unchanged as they opened again. The lightheadedness forced Henry to lie back on his pillow, a rather clouded grey beginning to close in on his awareness, vision tunneling to his fingers still clutching the compass tightly - until it was all he could see.

His eyes closed, as surely as if he had been suddenly put to sleep, and then he felt as though he were floating, moving through space even as he knew he was lying still. And then, though he couldn’t fathom how, he stood in the tower of his dreams - whole and shining new as it had not been for some hundreds of years - unseen and right next to a stunning, golden-haired woman who could only be Princess Emmaline…

“Killian, go! You must be away from here before they come with my evening meal,” her voice is quick and urgent as she tries to push him toward the window of her cell, through which he had climbed not even an hour before. “If they catch you, you’ll be arrested. You’re wanted for piracy.”

The dark haired young man, lean and strong, despite appearing more long haired and less neat than he had as a royal navy lieutenant stands firm, well-muscled enough from days spent steering a ship through wind and rain and all other obstacles besides, impossible for her to move unless he allows it. He has waited too long to see her again, and he is not anxious to relinquish the sight of her beautiful face now that it has been restored to him.

“Easy, lass, easy,” he soothes, looking for all the world as if soldiers and guards, arrest and punishment, holds little concern for him.  In truth, he would face those and more as well for her sake, but he has also changed much in the months since his flight from royal service. He is a captain now, not the uncertain, eager-to-please junior officer he had been. Now he gives the orders, his crew (those loyal few who’d followed him into exile) follow his lead and go where he sees fit. “I’ve plenty of time yet… and...I wish to spend every second that I can with you.”

Only here, when addressing his true feelings for his princess, his first and only love, does he show a moment’s hesitance and a lingering sign of the shy young man he once was. Truthfully, he does not know whether or not there is a price on his head, or if he is being sought after diligently; Emmaline’s parents themselves did not agree with the steps taken to hide their daughter away. Whether they truly view him as a dangerous criminal to be apprehended, or more of a rebel with the freedom to act where they could not, Killian Jones is not sure. The King and Queen are constrained by duty to all of their people, where he is loyal first and foremost to his Princess above all others.

Unfortunately, their time is drawing to a close. He can hear the muffled tread of booted feet hurrying up the winding staircase, and knows that soon those who stand guard over Emmaline’s safety, but also make sure she remains in her prison, will reach her room. Much as he loathes leaving her behind again, he knows she is right. He dares not remain and have to fight people who are on the same side, compatriots in service of Misthavia, even if they interpret their orders much differently than he.

Turning to her once more, taking Emmaline’s hands in his, and gazing into her wide, green eyes and her tense face full of worry for him, Killian voices the question he has asked every time he steals back to her side in this long year past. “Come with me. You don’t have to stay locked away here. We could sail the world and be free.” It kills for her to be trapped and alone, paler with each visit he manages, dark purple bruises from sleepness beneath her eyes. Though he knows what her answer will be before he finishes speaking, Killian still has to ask.

His brave, bright angel shakes her head, yellow-gold hair flying around her like a halo, even as a slow tear makes its slow trek down her cheek. “You know I can’t, Killian. My place, my destiny, is here. Though my people fear me now, they need me… My parents need me… I can’t desert them.”

Much as he regrets it, Killian knows her honor will allow her no less. Sadly, he bows his head over their joined hands to kiss the back of hers, murmuring, “As you wish, my Love,” against her skin. Before he turns to climb into the window frame and grab the rope he had used to climb once more, he presss an object into her grasp - the compass he had received upon his naval promotion to lieutenant. “Hold onto this for me at least, aye?  As promise of my return.”

His Emmaline nods tearfully, letting him go and stepping back, but pressing the compass to her breast. “You always return, Killian,” she replies. “I know that.” 

His blue eyes brighten the smallest bit at her faith in him, allowing them both to hold onto hope. “And I always will,” he vows. Then he grasps the rope, swings from the window, and is gone.

~ Part Two ~

Henry came back to himself the next morning to the sound of anxious pounding on the door of his room. Sitting up slowly, blinking and struggling to regain his bearings, he began to hurry toward the sounds only when he also heard Violet’s worried voice through the wooden barrier, calling out with concern for him.

“Henry? Henry, are you in there?” Several more sharp raps against the hard surface followed, just before he could reach the doorknob in his befuddled state. “We got worried when you weren’t downstairs to meet the bus, Profess - “ Her words cut off abruptly as Henry finally managed to turn the knob and swing the door open to face her.

While he hadn’t really considered the rumpled mess of a picture he must present, the way Violet’s mouth fell open in surprise, and how her hand reached out as if to either feel his forehead or offer him support somehow before quickly pulling back, said quite a lot. Her prettily rosy cheeks paled as she stuttered anxiously, “H-Henry...are you alright?”

Feeling more than a bit awkward and embarrassed standing before her in the previous day’s clothing and obviously late for the group’s scheduled departure time, Henry shuffled from foot to foot before clearing his throat and attempting to smooth his sleep-disheveled hair back into lying calmly on his head. Violet, as was her way, looked impeccably neat and professional in sturdy khakis and a pale lavender sleeveless shirt that he knew must have a matching cardigan or jacket somewhere in her suitcase. She didn’t look judgemental in the least though, only concerned for him, despite his growing embarrassment. 

“I’ll be fine, just a little off balance,” he offered uncertainly, already reaching behind him to begin shoving necessary items into the satchel he carried with him on their excursions. “Would you just, please, make my apologies to the others, and our driver? Ask them to give me five more minutes, and I’ll be right down.”

He was scrambling by then, to find his shoes, locate his keys, and get dressed almost all at once, so that he didn’t realize Violet had not left yet after agreeing to his request. She had instead taken a step forward into his room, one more question of if he was really alright on the tip of her tongue when he whipped off his old T-shirt, ready to pull on the clean one he’d found.

Her startled gasp arrested him in the midst of raising his arms to pull the new shirt over his head, turning wide-eyed to face her and already flushing red in his cheeks and well down his neck and chest. Slowly lowering his arms, and the material down to cover his bare torso as well, he couldn’t dismiss the hopeful idea that Violet seemed unable to stop staring at his chest, even once again clothed in one of his usual tops, and that she was swaying just the slightest bit toward him, as if drawn by a magnet.

The odd moment broke at last when Henry stepped forward, just as Violet did the same, and they nearly collided. Both jerked away again, Henry already apologizing and bringing a hand to his stinging chin, even as Violet rubbed her forehead where they had made sharp contact.

“It’s alright, Henry. Truly. It’s fine,” she assured softly, reaching out to clasp his wrist with gentle pressure and calm his rapid flow of words.

Her former professor’s deep brown eyes raised to search hers hopefully, clearly easing as she nodded in added confirmation. “Honestly,” she added with a small smile, patting his arm before releasing her hold. “I’m really just glad to see that you’re okay.”

Catching her hand before she could retract the soft, delicate fingers completely, he squeezed back with gentle gratitude. Shaking his head ruefully, Henry let out a low chuckle and confessed to her honestly. “Alright might be a bit of a stretch, really. In fact, you may think I’m downright insane when I tell you what’s happened, Vi. But, let me get ready before we make everyone else even later, and I’ll share on the way.”

She nodded, stepping back to go so he could change and be ready to leave for the site as soon as possible. Yet, before she slipped back out the door, with one last promise she added, “Whatever you say, Henry. But, just know this… whatever it is that’s going on...I doubt I’ll think you’re crazy. I believe in you.”

Henry’s breath stalled at her admission, and he turned toward her to thank her, to express a similar faith, but Violet had already fled the room. There was nothing else he could do but hurry to rejoin her; her words and his excitement at his vision too, driving him onward so as not to disappoint her galvanizing confidence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***~

By the time their bus had reached the crumbling remains of Emmaline’s tower once more, Henry had told Violet all he’d seen and heard in his vision. To his utter astonishment, though wide-eyed and stunned, she had taken every word as truth and believed him. 

Once they were at the ruins, she still seemed a bit overcome - Henry couldn’t say that he blamed her, as he was more than a little disbelieving himself - but they piled out of the van as everyone else did, perhaps even more anxious to know what else they might learn or see after his midnight vision. Violet did, however, turn back to look at him once they were both on solid ground, a light touch to his upper arm to convey her concern as she whispered low enough that the others bustling around them couldn’t hear. “You’re sure, that you’re alright to be out here, aren’t you, Henry? I mean… you aren’t disoriented or lightheaded or anything like that?”

Even if he were, there was no way that Henry Mills was letting his last day in this scenic escape, this place of legend at which he had worked and scrimped and saved to arrive, be lost to a weird dream or a strange bout of vertigo, whatever it was that had come over him. He was careful of course not to seem impatient with Violet though; her care for him touched him greatly, warming and thrilling him inside much more than he would like to admit. Instead, he merely shook his head slightly, hoping to assuage her worries by appearing unfazed and moving forward with this last day’s exploration of their site. “Thanks, truly. I appreciate you checking,” he offered, “but I’m fine - no lingering side effects.”

As he spoke, they neared the last vestiges of the archway where they had discovered the compass the day before. Henry could tell that Violet ached to explore further, to make sure there was nothing else of note, to study the intricacies of design and execution that were more to her interests than his, but that she was equally reluctant to leave him after the strange stupor in which she had found him just a short time ago.

Good naturedly smirking at his own odd behavior, Henry urged her to see to what she wished. “Vi, really, go on and have another look. It’s not like this opportunity comes around every day. I promise, I’m not going to keel over.”

She shook her head at his lighthearted teasing, all ready with the stubborn reminder that he didn’t get the scare of wondering what had happened, worrying whether or not he was alright, but she bit her tongue in the end. Bickering wasn’t going to make him see his health as more important than their find, and it would probably only make him feel badly to know just how concerned she had been at the pale, unsteady sight he had presented when he first opened his door to her that morning. Plus, it would waste precious time, and so instead she moved off with a nod of begrudging consent and one more gentle press of his hand.

Henry, meanwhile, when he had made certain that Violet wasn’t holding back on his account, moved carefully toward the crumbling frame of the window in an outer wall still partially standing some feet away. It was slow going for the bits of stone and splintered, weathered furniture scattered in the way between, but he picked his way through the detritus without falling himself or destroying anything which might be of value. The niggling feeling that the window he stood before was the very one he had seen in his vision, the one from which the rogue lieutenant visiting his imprisoned lover swung to escape the princess’ guard, and he could hardly fight the need to touch it - see it - for himself, as if he could somehow derive the rest of the story, what had happened next, from the space he had seen in that reverie.

And though as much as he had promised his concerned protegé that all would be well, Henry still felt a bit off balance and unsettled, as if whatever presence or power in the air was still lingering from his encounter that morning. No sooner had he neared the wall, than he was reaching out to rest his hand on what would once have been the window sill, now loose and partially eroded by time.

Taking a moment to look more closely at the cracked stone and dusty grooves, Henry curled his fingers into a gap curiously, the piece of rock still in place shifting to the side and allowing his fingertips to slide deeper into the opening. For a moment, he felt nothing, just empty space and a disorienting sensation of brushing up against a wide open void, then his grasp caught against an edge of paper or leather, almost like the corner of a book. Straining to reach just a bit further, he managed to grasp the item and clutched tightly to draw it out.

Several more bits of debris and rubble fell away as Henry attempted to carefully extract his treasure. Once free of its hiding place, however, the mystery was revealed as indeed being some sort of leather bound journal or logbook. Brushing off the cover the best he could, despite the determined cling of years and years of cobwebs and mildew, Henry held his breath, hoping the pages wouldn’t crumble to dust, that they were still legible. It might contain the proof and the answers he had been seeking.

Ever so gingerly, Henry carefully opened the cover to find a flourishing if faded script scrawled across the opening page of the book in his hand. And even before he could locate the author’s purpose or name, he felt his surroundings begin to swirl and fade to grey once more, for the second time in one day, he was seeing the tower as it had been and the princess within it long ago…

“What have I done?!?” Emmaline’s tormented wail echoes in the thin air of the tower’s height, as her sword clatters to the floor from her suddenly nerveless fingers. The guard she felled is clearly not dead, as his chest rises and falls steadily even in unconsciousness. Still, though her father had trained her well in swordplay, until her technique and form was nearly as flawless as his own, she had never before actually struck someone with such determined intent. To stop them - and even end their life if necessary, rather than see her lover caught and killed.

Turning at that, her eyes still frantic at the blood that runs from the slice across his cheek beneath his eye, all too close to putting out the brilliant blue light forever. Her lip quivers, and Princess Emmaline struggles to bite back the ridiculous show of weakness and emotion, even while stumbling toward Killian at the same time.

He catches her in his arms, smoothing her wild hair back form her damp brow and whispering reassurances that she only did what she had to, that she isn’t cruel or evil, only a brave woman taking her stand in an impossible situation, and - if possible - he loves her even more, “bloody brilliant” she is in his adoring eyes.

However, the stolen moment is not meant to be theirs for long. Shouts from below remind them that the man they have felled to make their escape was not the only one, and unless they wish to be forced to do even more damage, they must go - immediately. Pausing a mere second longer, Emmaline snatches up a small brown book from a desk in the corner of the room. Pressing it to her mouth as if imprinting a kiss in its surface, she hurries to the window where her sailor stands waiting to spirit her away - from her family, her kingdom, her duty - but also to freedom and a life, something it has become clear she will never regain locked away in some gilded cage.

Working loose a part of the masonry, she slips her private diary into the aperture created, hoping against hope that it will be found. That her parents and her brother will be able to read it and know that she has discovered a way forward, even if it isn’t what they had always planned. She hopes she will see them again someday, but if not…

Looking up to meet her rogue lieutenant’s pained but knowing gaze, she is relieved to see she needs give no explanation. He understands, just as he always has. 

Then, with a final backward glance around her prison, she is swinging over the side with him, his steady presence next to her helping as they begin their descent on sturdy ropes, toward the ground below where horses wait to take them to his ship in the harbor....

Henry jolts back into his own place and time more immediately with this second vision. Already anxious to read the book still clasped in his hands, his heart thrums with excitement in his chest at knowing just what it is he holds. He gulps in air like a fish floundering on the docks, but it doesn’t slow his haste or enthusiasm. This is it; the evidence he had always believed he would find. Princess Emmaline existed, she was real; her story had happened just as it had been said. And now, at last, he could show the rest of the world the truth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***~

Six months later ~

Hand in hand, Henry Mills and Violet Clemens stand in the sacred space once more - the site that drew both of them halfway around the world, but also to each other. Since their research venture to the Misthavian ruins, there has been widespread recognition that the tiny kingdom did exist and that its lost princess had been a real, living being of flesh and blood. Though it was asking a bit much for the reigning historical and scientific community to believe that she had been locked away due to a fear of her magic, as detailed in her diary, it had become accepted knowledge that Princess Emmaline had been held in the windswept and isolated tower they had explored, she had been denied her birthright and crown, and had - much like her homeland - vanished almost completely from history… if not for the tokens Professor Henry Mills and his team had discovered.

They are now both published and much-lauded experts in their field; both already had been experts, it was just a matter of the rest of the world realizing it. More important than glory and fame though, to both Henry and Violet, was that now they could return to this place, so close to both their hearts, and perhaps offer closure to two souls who had been awaiting it much longer than either of them.

As the couple stood at the small display which had since been constructed at the scenic overlook near the ruins, there was an absolute sense of accomplishment. It was just a small podium with a guest book for tourists and visitors to sign and a protective case allowing the compass and diary to be returned where they belonged, but still available for the curious, the lost, and the lonely to see, to read, and to learn from the Princess’ story and take heart again. It was just how Henry had wanted it and had fought against various museums and universities to have it be displayed - as he could only hope the long ago royal would have approved.

Looking lovingly to the woman at his side, Henry smiled unabashedly as the sparkle of her engagement ring caught his eye and he simply brought their joined hands to his mouth to kiss the back of hers. He could still remember that first dim evening, when he had ventured within the tower’s remaining walls with cautious reverence. He had sensed that he was not alone, the presence that - while not threatening - had still sent a shiver skittering down his spine. Violet had long since talked with him of a similar awareness as they worked within the aged structure, and it was what brought them back now, to say one final farewell before embarking on a joined life together, to bid another lingering pair of lovers rest at long last - impossible as that quest might seem.

“Do you think we’ll know if they’re here?” Violet whispered to him, her eyes wide and half-hopeful, half-worried.

“I’m not sure what to expect,” he answered seriously. “It was just a feeling I couldn’t shake when we were here before. I don’t know whether to believe it will be more or less this time around.”

They waited, breath caught between nervously bitten lips in silence, before Henry stepped closer to the preserved ancient stone walls rising around them. “If you can hear me…” he started, tentative but determined, hopeful, and in a voice gaining strength as he continued with Violet’s reassurance at his back. “Princess? Lieutenant?...The world knows now, about Misthavia and about you.  That you were real, that you existed, and about your love for each other. No one believes Killian stole you away against your will anymore. And though most people of the modern age don’t believe in magic, they know now that you were wrongfully imprisoned, your Highness. They understand that though Misthavia ceased to exist as a separate nation, you never had your chance to rule to try and save her. And…” Henry paused here, swallowing a lump that took him by surprise as it formed suddenly in his throat… “and, though we can’t for sure know what became of either of you, it is known that Lieutenant Jones saved you, Princess Emmaline. That you loved him and he loved you. And I’m going to choose to believe in a happy ending for you both… that you sailed until you found a place where you could be together, come what may.”

“I do too,” Violet echoed into their still surroundings, offering him a gently affectionate smile as she gazed up into his intense and open brown eyes - the moment stretching powerfully between the two of them, cementing their faith in each other and their bond, whether or not anyone else bore witness.

Then, surprisingly, Violet’s eyes widened as she looked off to Henry’s side. “They - they’re here…” she breathed, almost too stunned to speak at all in the quiet evening around them.

Peering in the same direction Violet was, awestruck, Henry was slowly able to discern two clouded white shapes in the murky grey dusk, becoming ever more solid and opaque as Henry and Violet stood watching. Though far from corporeal, they were two human forms, one slighter with almost an outline of a medieval, bell-sleeved dress and what appeared a flower crown upon its head; the other taller and wearing what seemed to be a sword at its side, with broader shoulders.

Though the apparitions seemed to turn toward Henry and Violet, as if offering their gratitude, they came no closer, and merely hovered in place as the two historians held their breath for fear the moment might vanish. Soon enough as it was, the two cloudy shapes, once princess and pirate sailor, appeared to bow in farewell, then move toward the overlook, as though seeing the bright horizon and the waves far below that they had been separated from for so long. Just before the modern couple’s eyes, their ghosts began to fade into nothingness, gradually losing consistency, as if finally slipping the tether that had held them to the ruin. Vindicated at last, and free to move beyond, they set sail for peaceful shores. 

Tagging a few who might be interested: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @whimsicallyenchantedrose

@laschatzi @iamstartraveller776 @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @booksteaandtoomuchtv @anmylica

@stahlop @kday426 @xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic @linda8084 @lfh1226-linda

@belovedcreation @jonesfandomfanatic @motherkatereloyshipper @xarandomdreamx @bdevereaux @shady-swan-jones

@goforlaunchcee @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @drowned-dreamer

@undercaffinatednightmare @myfearless-love @winterbaby89 @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @elizabeethan

[couchtaro]

!!

from the OC introduction ask! (Sorry followers this is long but its worth it i prommy there are even pictures)

This is my little dötter Basil, a D&D PC of mine! She only saw 3 sessions of play 3 years ago but she is getting a second chance at life because @eaudecrow picked her up from the shelter and gave her a lovely yard to run around in.

Basil is a little tiefling girl whose large family runs an apothecary and surgery in a tiny little backwater town called Tarnygee. Basil’s brilliant mother developed a strain of magical herb that when processed can cast (without spell slots or prior magical ability) Lesser Restoration, thereby curing any disease instantly.

While traveling to heal a local noble, Basil’s mother disappeared and a bigshot inventor came forward claiming her panacea as his own. When Basil’s oldest brother tried to confront him and wound up dead, it became clear there was nothing they could do to get justice on their own. So, fueled by grief and rage, Basil took a job as a part-time warlock at Seelie Corp., a fey megacorporation with mysterious motives. In return for her working as their errand girl, Basil gets to be distinctly less killable and more tricky as she tries to find the inventor and extort him for the good of her destitute family.

Things aren’t working as well as she would like though: due to being basically a middle schooler, she’s got to keep her work under 40 hours a week and gets limited pact benefits. Her supervisor (a weasely pseudodragon named Keith) is dismissive and unhelpful, and her small town upbringing has kept her deeply unprepared for taking on the wild world of men and magic on her own.

Luckily, she’s found some unexpected help! While submitting her weekly report through the postal system of Fey portals, Basil’s paperwork went awry and found its way to another world: specifically a bunker in a war torn parallel version of the material plane. This bunker is the home and prison of Crow’s Aaren D’Cannith.

As a youth, Aaren invented a mechanical race called warforged, but seeing their potential for war and servitude, his family seized his blueprints (AND HIS ROBOT DAUGHTER) and disowned him as soon as he came of age. Aaren spent a few years as a vigilante trying to free his creations, but was trapped in his secret library when a magical-chemical fallout steeped his homeland in a volatile and toxic arcane gas. There he stayed, trapped and utterly alone, for three years.

Until Basil.

The two are corresponding via letters that we actually write each other, and it’s SUCH a fun and interesting method of storytelling to me aah. Despite being little more than strangers separated by a barely permeable divide, and despite Aaren struggling to believe Basil was even real at first, the two have formed a very sweet bond that makes me so unwell, you would not believe.

Both are grieved by how much of their own misfortune they see in the other. Through Basil’s letters, Aaren can tell that she is young, inexperienced, lacking support, and actively in danger as she allows herself to be used in exchange for power. He sees her situation with the eyes of someone who has been there and thus liberally (almost desperately) shares what little he can: his own arcane study materials, what he’s learned about survival and avoiding arrest, and, not the least, assurance that despite her perceptions, Basil is clever and kind and she matters.

Basil in turn is Aaren’s one connection to other people, and to a world that, while imperfect, is not ravaged and desolate like his own. After years of incarceration and tedium, he now has the exhilarating privilege of small talk and an audience for the terrible, terrible jokes he’s cooked up in isolation. He has a way to not only talk to someone outside of himself, but to help. He has something productive to do, and a reason to do it, not to mention the interesting puzzles of how their letters are finding each other and what else might be going on with Basil’s work. Basil is truly grateful to him, and returns his kindness in what little ways she can—most recently by interdimensionally mailing him his first real food in years.

Currently, Aaren and Basil are working to craft a pair of sending stones for daily artificer/botany jokes and (real reason) so that Basil can have some sort of emergency contact if she needs urgent advice. 25 words once per day is frightfully little if she ever runs into real trouble, and the limitations of their contact are never more haunting than when one considers how little Aaren could truly do in an emergency. I’m sure this frustration is only worsened by the unfortunate atrophy of his knowledge and skill caused by fog exposure. But he’s a clever man, and Crow had some ideas that seized my brain for weeks. Goodness.

Anyway in conclusion

Thanks for coming to my TedTalk

[ridhearts]

fated one {vamp!rook x vamp hunter!reader}

HI this one has. a bit of an intro to get through before I can let you read it haha

SO this is actually the fic that inspired me to write the whole au months and months and months ago! I wanted to write vamp rook and then i wanted to write all my faves as vamps and then I wrote some of my friends’ faves as vamps and then I just made HCs for everybody lol. Some things have changed in the “general canon” of the AU (for example, the reader isn’t a vampire hunter in the AU but they are here) but yeah, this is the start of it all :)

HOWEVER - it isn’t finished. This is actually the end of a fic that got away from me and turned out to be a much larger undertaking than I expected, and then I burned out and never finished. I still want to! But it won’t be done by the end of October, so I decided to post the real good stuff here and now :3 I have no promises of when I’ll ever finish that fic so I wouldn’t avoid reading this to wait for it to be published because...who knows if it ever will be. I’ll also be putting a brief synopsis of the lead up under the cut so you know what’s going on, so! Hopefully you won’t be too lost :)

!! information !!

characters: rook

reader: gn (”you” pronouns, read CW)

CW: reader is wearing a dress. if i used french pet names that could be gendered, i (probably) used the female version. ALSO - dubious use of aphrodisiacs/aphrodisiac bites (non-nsfw dubcon (i still don’t know what else to call this)) - also also: blood and blood drinking/turning described vividly.

note: i found a pet name that was said to be outdated but I used it on purpose because I was like “hey, vampires are old, what if Rook used an older french pet name” but if that info is wrong and it sound weird to anybody who knows french i apologize in advance

masterlists ⇿ requests  

(Synopsis: Reader is a vampire hunter in an unwelcoming town, assigned to a rather difficult mission that nobody has ever come back alive from. You meet Rook, who leads you to the headquarters of the nearby Pomefiore Coven, only to reveal that he is a vampire and has tricked you. You are kept in the manor against your will, trying to hold on to your mysteriously depleting anger and hatred. [You don’t come to the conclusion that Rook may be using his vampiric seduction against you until you can’t find it within yourself to care.] One night, Rook appears rather giddy and starts making you presentable according to what seem to be very detailed specifications, but he won’t tell you what for...)

—

Rook was the one to wake you up. When he did, you grunted groggily, disoriented by the dark shadows stretched across the room. Squinting in your confusion, you lazily drew your hand up and draped your arm over your eyes, surprised at how foreign such a simple action felt. The sound of wooden doors creaking and fabric shuffling told you Rook was rifling through the wardrobe in your room. His usual jovial humming was silenced, but you could still practically feel the excitement buzzing off of him from across the room. When he returned, he held up something loose and silvery-white in the moonlight. You were briefly able to make out the shape of a dress before he set it aside and helped you lean up.

“Do you mind?” He asked, already deftly unfastening the buttons of your vest and then the blouse beneath. You could only sleepily murmur, even when you felt his gloved fingertips ghost over your skin as he removed the clothing. Rook hesitated for a moment - the thought that he might be admiring the view came to mind, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the rush - before quietly urging you to stand. He allowed you to hold onto him for support while he removed your pants and shoes. Even so, you felt yourself teetering like a branch in the wind, uneven on your feet and uncertain of your surroundings. The only thing that made you feel stable was when Rook stood back up and grabbed your arms, steadying you. You stumbled forward and leaned your head on his shoulder, muttering something about being tired. The longer he let you stay, the more time you wanted to take.

“We aren’t finished,” He reminded you, backing up a step to grab the dress. You felt colder without his touch than you did without your clothes. The fabric was cool and slick as he slipped it over your head, light enough that you barely felt the shape of the dress at all. Rook helped you slide the straps over your shoulders, one hand on your waist while the other fiddled with the few rumbles in the outfit. You tried to lean into him again, but he stopped you. “Patience.”

It took a while, but Rook finally decided you were ready. Clapping his hands in excitement, Rook reached out to take yours and allowed you to purposely tumble into his hold. “The potion is still affecting you, mon lapin?”

You hummed, barely exhaling in surprise when he lifted you in his strong arms. The last shred of your old, rational self told you not to lean too far into his chest, even if the rest of you so desperately wanted to.

“Good.” 

Rook turned slowly, taking long strides to the back door leading out to the main garden. The carpet muted his purposeful steps, but the stone of the balcony amplified them. All at once you were hit with so much: the chill of the night air, the smell of some sort of incense and something metallic just beneath, and the bright light of an almost-red moon.Your body already felt limp, weak, as if your physical form were wrapped in a dream while your mind lay awake and alert. The cool breeze brushed over your skin, raising goosebumps on your arms immediately. Your instinct was to curl in on yourself, to protect yourself from the cold. The only thing you managed to do was lull your head to the side, against Rook's shoulder, surrendering yourself to the desires of your majority. Endeared, Rook chuckled softly, the vibrations comforting as you realized once again, despite his convincing masquerade, how empty his body actually was. 

Was this really what you were about to allow? Were you to fulfill him? Could you?

Rook deftly stepped over the candles without extinguishing one, taking great care not to tread on the lines etched in stone. He approached the stone table, raised slightly on one end like a chaise and draped in a thin white sheet, before gently placing you on it. The thin barrier did little to provide you comfort as the coolness of the stone crept through the sheet and your dress, chilling every part of you it touched. You shivered, trying to chase after Rook as he pulled away from you. His touch was gentle against your shoulders, carefully easing you down again with hushed comforts.

"Now, now. I won't be long," He murmured, his fingers trailing down your arm before gently encircling your wrist. Reverently, he pressed his lips to your pulse point and let them linger, as if savoring a sensation he'd never have again. "Be good for me and just lie here. I could never leave such a sweet thing unattended for long."

Rook stepped back, still careful not to step on any of the markings, backing up until he was at the border of one of the circles. He grabbed a book you hadn't noticed before, flipping through the pages thoughtfully until he found the one he wanted. You were dimly aware of the way the light washed out around you until the entire courtyard was painted in red.

The candles set up at various points along the lines stopped flickering, the flames standing still and burning just a bit brighter. The wax of the white candles turned red, eventually leading a luminescent red filling in the engraved paths. The intersecting lines and glyphs you didn't recognize lit up, casting an ambient red glow around the table you were on. In the background, Rook chanted something in a language you couldn't understand, eyes fixed on the blood red moon. Adrenaline pulsed through you - not in the form of fear, but in the form of exhilaration. 

Snapping the book shut, Rook cast it aside and made his way back over to you. Bathed in the red light and offering you a sinister smile, you wondered briefly how you didn't see he was a vampire before. 

"It is time," He breathed, setting his hands on the table before you. You wanted him to touch you. "I promise you will be in good hands."

Before you could ask what he was going to do - a pointless question, really, as you've known since you stepped foot within the manor, and part of you even before then - Rook advanced, opening his mouth and baring his fangs like a cat's silent hiss. He was upon you in an instant, body crossed over yours as he bit into your neck. One of his hands supported his weight on the stone table just beside your hip. The other cradled your head gently, allowing it to fall heavily as he overwhelmed you.

The first pinprick stung, sharp and purposeful in the sensitive area of your neck. You couldn't help but suck in a breath through your teeth, leaning into his grip on your head in a weak attempt to pull away. He kept his fangs in your neck for a few moments, a dull discomfort at the foreign sensation quickly dwindling as something warm began to overtake you. That was all it started as, a heat somewhat familiar and comfortable quickly spreading throughout your body. The strange tingling came next, chased immediately by a pleasure unlike any you've ever experienced before.

Much more pliant in his grip, you could barely stifle the far-too-salacious gasp that came as he removed his fangs from your neck. Immediately, he put his warm lips just over the puncture wounds before you could feel him sucking greedily. Like a parched man in the desert, he drank from your neck, every so often heaving his shoulders as he gulped and pulling himself closer to you. Not many coherent thoughts were racing through your mind, your brain addled with a satisfying numbness, only lit by the occasional sparks Rook lit when his tongue brushed over your wound. All you knew was that you wanted him closer, closer still, that you wanted to give him everything he had asked for on a platter. Lethargically, you tilted yourself closer to him, moaning when his fingers tightened their grip on your hair in a silent instruction to stay still.

You briefly recognized that your body no longer felt heavy and leaden. Rather, the longer Rook held you, the lighter you felt. Your mind was beginning to feel as hazy as your connection to your body, a wonderful harmony you terribly missed. The stone beneath you was no longer as cold as it felt before, and the dull hum replacing the blood in your veins almost made you want to sing. Your thoughts spaced out until you wondered briefly if you might fly away, until the only thing grounding you were Rook's hands, one still cradling your head and the other now pressed firmly against your waist.

Every now and then you would feel him part from your neck, whether to admire his work or to swallow, you weren't sure. Just before he'd duck down for another drink, Rook would run his tongue over the wound he made, lapping up any blood that spilled. Even such a small, incidental dose of venom had your toes curling and whimpers spilling out before you could stop them. Rook seemed to enjoy those as much as he did your blood, allowing you to lean closer still. The lighter you felt, the more he indulged you. For that alone, you didn't want him to ever detach himself from you.

As though you had jinxed it, Rook pulled away moments later, further than he had ever gone before. You could no longer feel his warm, excited breaths fanning over your skin, and you pouted as you mourned your loss. He fondly tittered, the sound encouraging enough to open your eyes just enough to try to convince him to return to you. Your persuasion faltered when you saw him laughing so his fangs were bared. His teeth were stained a faint pink, and staring at them seemed to make your own guns hurt. A deeper red painted his lips like gorgeous, expensive lipstick. You licked your own lips, eyes transfixed. Though you had the vaguest sense of your pulse quickening, you couldn't feel your heartbeat hasten or your breathing shallow. Rook made you feel safe.

"Look at you," he murmured ardently, his own eyes trailing to your clavicle. Following his gaze, you saw a thin trail of red falling down your neck, staining the fabric of your dress and the sheet beneath you. He hadn't let much go to waste. Tilting your head, you stopped when you caught a whiff of something sweet. You turned back to Rook in the hopes he'd explain it to you.

Having taken off one of his gloves, Rook swiped his bare thumb over his lip, staining it red. You watched fastidiously as he brought his thumb to your lip, pressing down with the delicacy of a butterfly's wings to convince you to open your mouth. You did, sticking out your tongue ever so slightly. The gentle pressure of his thumb felt improper somehow, but the sudden burst of flavor quickly overrode any shame that was hovering in your thoughts. Where you expected the bitter taste of iron, pungent and unrelenting, you instead got the sensation of something delectable, almost cloying. You tentatively ran your tongue over the pad of his thumb, doing your best to resist the urge to bite down.

You wanted to take every last drop of blood until not even the faintest scent of it remained, but a sharp pain in your gums had you wincing and opening your mouth to cry out. Rook took his hand back while you pressed your own hand to your cheek, aimlessly rubbing and hoping the pain might subside. It felt as though something were trying to break out of your tissue, sharp and hungry and ready to kill. Part of you wanted to snarl and hiss, the pain harsh enough to draw out the mannerisms of a wild animal from within you. The angry energy pulsed inside of you, hot and entirely unpleasant.

A strong hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to look back at Rook. Without warning, he closed in again, this time capturing your lips with near bruising force. It was less a kiss and more a distraction, a dim discomfort in the strength of his grip and the force of his lips leaving you with something to fight against. When you tried to nip at his bottom lip, to satiate the gnawing urge inside you, Rook pulled away.

"Très bien," With his gaze half-lidded, Rook grinned at you. "How rapturous you are, and so soon after-" 

Before he could finish, you cut him off with another kiss. You no longer wished for something else to distract from the pain - aggressive as it was, you couldn't help but feel as though another moment without his affections would kill you. While you kept your biting to yourself, Rook didn't feel the need to, for you felt his fang barely puncture your bottom lip. It didn't hurt, the venom spreading far too quickly in your body to allow it. The pleasant warmth returned, a tingling feeling that had you arching your back and moaning against Rook's mouth. He accepted your move and held you so tightly, you felt nothing short of adored.

When he pulled away the second time - for you would never willingly remove yourself from his grasp, you were realizing - he watched you keenly with his vibrant eyes. Once again you found yourself watching the gears of an unknown machine turning, like a secret was being shared right in front of you in a language you didn't know. Rook squinted his eyes slightly - had you done something wrong? Anxiety settled in your gut as he assessed you, and when he moved a step away you were certain you had never been so crushed.

"Don't fret," he hummed, sweetness dripping off his words like honey, "It's your turn."

"My turn?"

You watched Rook remove his other glove, tucking it into his pocket before holding his wrist up to your face. Dumbly, you stared at it, knowing what you wanted to do but unsure if it was what you were supposed to do.

"Drink."

The deep, almost sultry tone in his voice made you consider falling limp again, but you were being offered something too tempting to waste. Uncertainly, you gripped his wrist and brought it to your lips. Your new fangs grazed over his skin - that didn't seem right - and frustration began to build as you realized you didn't know where to bite.

Rook pulled his wrist away to help, laughing softly when your grip tightened. "I'm not leaving. Try here."

He tapped a spot on his wrist skewed just to the side of his thumb. Without bothering to check for the strength of his pulse, you opened your mouth with little grace and placed your fangs where he pointed. After a moment, you applied more pressure, relishing the way he drew in a sharp breath before letting it out shakily. Though you wanted to see if your own venom could affect him the way he affected you, you felt blood around your lips and quickly removed your fangs so you could drink.

It was difficult, foreign; you were almost certain you were making a fool of yourself, but if you were, Rook didn't seem to mind. He only carefully lifted his wrist up, allowing gravity to assist you in your first drink. His other hand cradled the very base of your skull, slowly easing you back until you were lying again. He didn't say how much you should drink, but you refused to stop. If he wanted you to quit, he'd have to take his wrist away himself.

Eventually, he did, using the edge of the sheet to stop his bleeding. You watched silently, your lips stained red even after you licked the blood from them. Softly, Rook took his hand and brushed your hair from your face. 

"Je suis étourdi par votre beauté," he whispered, and for once he didn't take his attention off of you to attend to something else. The overwhelming urge to kiss him once more filled you, along with an overpowering desire for him to bite you again. You felt completely full, filled to the brim with warm blood and the steadfast attention of a vampire you have come to ardently desire.

A strange itching sensation began to prickle your arm. You rubbed at it aimlessly, frustrated at how little that seemed to help. Rook's eyes darted to the moon, so yours did too. Though most of it was just as full and red as it was before, the faintest sliver of the normal gray could be seen. 

"Even the reflection of the sunlight will be too strong for you," Rook explained, sweeping you into his arms again. "You will have to hide away in the manor for a while before your new form can withstand the outdoors."

This time, when you cuddled up to him, you meant it. Rook was beyond happy to return the affections, nuzzling against the top of your head while he breezed through the wide doorway, only stopping to situate you far from any windows. "But don't worry! We will personally tend to your needs and help you flourish into a beautiful creature of the night!"

As he pulled thick curtains over the only windows in the room, you watched with a question lodged in his throat. The flickering candlelight made Rook seem even more deliberate, as if he was moving in slow motion. The closer he got, the more details you could make out; there was a darkness simmering just beneath the surface, full of promises that had you squirming in your seat.

Once he was in front of you, Rook grabbed your chin gently and held your head so he could meet your gaze. He grinned and showed his fangs - you were no longer afraid.

"Welcome to the coven, ma mie," He said, leaning closer so his warm breath fanned over your ear. "Whatever it is you desire, I will be happy to personally attend to everything until you are satisfied."

Both of you knew it would take an eternity to sate your needs. Luckily, you both had that kind of time, and neither of you seemed to mind.

[sulfur-eyes]

Uh I’m new to this whole content warning thing so sorry if I get anything wrong.

CW: panic attacks, angst, trauma, night terrors, minor blood? uHH shoot I dunno.

To Steve- Eddie’s house was more comfy, more lived in, happier, alive. He was there more often, especially after they started dating.

Steve had gotten so accustomed to fewer nightmares since he’d started staying at Eddie’s place, sleeping together. Always curled up and taking turns with who would be the big spoon that night.

So it’s a shock to his system when he wakes up one night from a particularly bad nightmare. It felt more like a vision. Eddie lying there, dead in the upside-down and Steve knowing that he’d failed another person. Desperately grabbing his shirt, his skin, begging him to come back. He can feel it, it’s too real. It’s all too real.

He woke up with a gasp. clutching at his damp night shirt, choking on air. He blinked a few times then squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to catch his breath, but all he saw were static stars and that image of Eddie’s dead eyes staring back at him. Usually he was able to look over at Eddie and relax again- but tonight. Tonight was not one of those nights. Ever since starcourt he’d been having hallucinations. Brought on by the head trauma from the ‘fire’, so doctors said. Well Steve hadn’t told anyone, not that he was seeing things. He could deal with it. He COULD. He had to be the strong one. If he wasn’t the strong one then what was he…?

Weak.

Usually he could sit it out, blink rapidly until it fizzled out. But tonight the vision wouldn’t go away, Eddie still lying there- now in the bed. Sheets soaked with blood, those eyes boring a hole through his heart. Steve patted around the sheets, he could feel they were dry, he could feel Eddie’s eyes were closed, but that didn’t make anything he saw less horrible. He gave a strangled sound before he threw off the covers and ran to the bathroom to hide, locking it behind him. Just so Eddie didn’t follow him in. Didn’t see this pathetic crybaby version of him. Out of everyone he needed to be strong for he needed to be strong for Eddie. He’d only ever cried in the safety of his own room- away from anyone. Everyone. No one could see him like this.

He found the farthest corner of the small room. Pressing against the cool tile wall and sliding down to curl up into a tight ball as he felt tears welling in his eyes, strong and stinging, they burned as he sobbed into his arms. His heart thudded in his chest and ears, his vision tunneled until all he could hear was the rushing blood and pumping of his own heart. Getting air into his lungs was an impossible task, he thought his chest might explode.

Eddie woke up from the frantic patting on his face and groaned “Stevie, babe- it’s like 3 am what are you-“ he lightly batted his hand away, adjusting to the darkness just enough that he could see Steve’s figure run for the bathroom seemingly in a hurry. And then- then. Sobs. Muffled like he was trying to keep them quiet but god they sounded nothing short of wails. Well boy did that wake Eddie up fast. He sprinted to that door and knocked. “Steve- Steve! Hey- Stevie what’s wrong- Cmon- open the door.” He jiggled the handle and let out a curse as he realized it was locked. He heard a particularly sharp cry from Steve. Was it Vecna? Was he back? Or worse? What was worse!! “Sweetheart let me in- I can help! Steve-!” Eddie glanced down at the handle to the door, remembering that the keyhole was on his side.

Eddie had been a crazy kid, often snatching whatever sweets Wayne put out and running to eat his fill of sugar in the safe haven of the bathroom. He changed the lock so he could unlock it from the outside so Eddie didn’t constantly have sugar crashes. Only problem is that when Wayne realized that Eddie was doing much worse than stuffing cookies into his face in the bathroom he gave up in caring about his sugar intake and discarded the key somewhere. Another curse left his lips before pressing his forehead to the door, still only hearing desperate choked back cries.

“Steve? I’ll be right back- I’ll be right there just. Just hold on okay? Hold on!” He began to frantically pull open drawers, cabinets, boxes, anything he could find. After a good five scattered minute of searching he spotted it in a cup of random things they tossed in there. Giving a short ‘aha!’ before sprinting back to the bathroom, his hands trembled and fumbled as he tried to open the lock. Once he heard the click he quickly burst open the door, just short of breaking it down if the key didn’t work.

God what a heartbreaking sight, Steve seemed so small, vulnerable, dare Eddie say weak. It wasn’t Vecna- thankfully. But that didn’t make it much better. The former jock’s body was wracked with shudders, he was wheezing like he couldn’t breathe, and the strangled sobbing that emitted him scared Eddie to death. He looked up in a panic as Eddie entered, quickly shaking his head and shielding himself away once more- he wanted to say ‘no, don’t look at me like this.’ Or ‘get out’ but all he could mutter was “no, no, no, no.” And hold out a trembling hand as though to stop him while Eddie approached like he was a feral cat. Eddie was stubborn and he wouldn’t let Steve suffer alone.

“Steve… hey- Steve, I’m right here. I’m right here. Talk to me.” He knelt down next to him, Steve leaned away, turning his face to the side, tears continued to cascade down his cheeks. “No. Don’t— look away— go away” Steve choked out, hiccuping as he willed the tears to stop. Stop. STOP.

They didn’t.

“Whatever it is you can tell me. I can help. Let me help..” Eddie’s voice strained and desperate. Steve shook his head “no-hic- you can’t— I—“ his throat caught before he managed to force the words out. “I don’t wa-ant you to see me- hic- like this. Go away-” he tried to bat a hand in Eddie’s general direction but it was hard with his face buried in his arm and knees and the darkness of the corner.

“See you like what- Steve- what happened. What’s wrong…” he settled down next to Steve, his heart ached to help him. “I’m- not sup-supposed go cry— I’m supposed to b-buh-be s-strong- boys do-on’t cry!“ came his response, voice cracking. Eddie’s brows furrowed. “What? Says who? Who told you that?”

Steve didn’t respond, only able to cough and hiccup every so often. “Your dad?” Eddie supplied, and it was a moment before Steve gave a nod. He puffed out a breath of disdain, one more reason to hate Mr. Harrington. “well, I’m pretty sure your dad cried when he was born so he doesn’t get a say.” Steve gave the smallest wet laugh then a cough, kind of seemed like it hurt.

“It’s okay to cry Stevie, it’s good. Everyone should cry. You don’t have to be strong all the time- no one can be. ‘S just not possible.” Eddie reached towards him only to hesitate. “Can I hug you?” he asked, Steve took another long moment before giving a nod.

Eddie wrapped his arms tight around the other boy, squeezing him close in a vice grip. Because that’s the way Steve likes to be hugged, tight, he needed to know that he was there. That he wouldn’t let go. Steve turned into Eddie, face burying into his chest. He wasn’t choking on air anymore, but Eddie could feel a wet spot forming on the tank top where his face was. His body still shaking like a leaf. “Was it a nightmare?” He asked, Steve only gave a shrug. No words.

“Okay. You’re safe. I promise.” Steve clung to the fabric of his shirt like if he let go he’d fall off the edge of the world. It was awhile before his crying eventually reduced to sniffles as Eddie rocked them gently in the dark of the bathroom, petting through his hair just the way Steve liked. When he finally stopped shaking and his breathing was normal enough, Eddie helped him get up and led him back to the bedroom, back into the bed while Steve rubbed tear tracks from his face. Eddie grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand and had him drink until it was empty, rubbing a soothing hand over his back.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Steve shook his head.

“Alright, later. Another time.”

Steve’s eyes flicked from Eddie back to the glass before giving a nod. Later. Another time. That worked.

They both managed to fall asleep again, tangled up together tighter than before, swaddled in too many blankets. And Eddie wouldn’t ask until Steve was ready, but he’d be there ready to help when he was. Because he understood all too well.

Yippidie doo da The End. Frankly this was like a self indulgent thing, not everyone’s panic attacks are the same. I wrote my own experience with them but this doesn’t go for everyone. Don’t go touching people if they’re freaking out like this, always ask first!! Panic attacks also don’t always stop this quick but I have a word limit unlike real life so. :// ah well. Hope you enjoyed!!

[itsthesinbin]

I don't know shit about Lemongrab, but I understand the appeal for his sour grace. What are your sfw + nsfw headcanons for him?

How???

How does one even fuck him?

i fucking love lemongrab so much. he's so fucked up. absolute cringefail husband. also im using the final incarnation of lemongrab for this just bc trying to choose between tweedle dee, tweedle dum, and then the third version is weird. so it's just number 3

Lemongrab (Adventure Time)

SFW

Okay so. Autistic as FUCK. Do not fucking touch him. Unless he touches you first. THEN you can touch him. But only for a few minutes. Do not cross the line.

The most affection he does on a regular basis is holding your hand. At the very least, you always smell like lemon so like. A bonus honestly, unless you REALLY hate lemon. Although at that point why are you dating him.

Will ask for kissies once in a blue moon. Please do not ignore his requests for kissies or else he will be very upset and look at you like a sopping wet pathetic kitten for the next four hours.

He gets you a jumpsuit that matches his and has the belt and boot accents be your favorite color. If he's feeling REAL frisky he'll also get you a hat! Don't wear the hat too often cause he gets stressed out that you look too different from him/everyone else in his kingdom.

You're the only person that can fold his clothes the way he likes so that's your main duty when you're staying with him. It's the greatest honor, in his eyes.

He doesn't do dates. BUT he will for you, every once in a while. The only place he really likes to go is the Candy Kingdom, and he always insists on visiting Bubblegum before you leave. You jokingly call her your princess in law. You don't think she likes it that much, but Lemongrab likes that you two get along.

Separate bedrooms and private areas. He needs his alone time both just for himself and to get work done. Your bed is big enough for him if he wants to stay for a while, though, and vice versa.

NSFW

Okay so sex is. Nearly non-existent to be honest. He has a very low drive and has to be in a specific mood to even be touched for that long, let alone to do something that intimate. If you have a high sex drive you might have to take care of things yourself, most of the time.

Very nervous and awkward. He's open to listening to you and figuring things out, but you're the only person he's ever been with and needs help.

You have to be double checked for injuries beforehand because you found out you had a papercut on your hand while you were giving him a handjob and.............. it wasn't fun. Big ouchies and it ruined the mood for you both and he kept apologizing for the next hour.

The ONLY time he gets real quiet. No little moans of stress or grumbles of discomfort. Just looking at you, wide eyed in awe and affection, as he gets that connection to someone he craves.

Very stiff and methodical, so usually you're the one taking the lead and helping him loosen up.

He has to wear a condom if it goes in cause it burns.

If you give him a blowjob be fucking READY for it to be sour as FUCK.

He's a cuddler afterward up until it's time to go to sleep. He can NOT sleep while being too close to someone or something. Usually you two have sex in your bedroom so you can just conk out in your own bed, then he'll get up to head to his room. He always double tucks your blankets and leaves a glass of water- or refills your glass if you already had some- before he exits.

A good partner both in and out of the bedroom, in his own way. Just gotta be patient with him.

[charmspoint]

Sanguine Friday 3

This friday is for the second protagonist and the love interets, Duchess Eliza.

Beautiful art once again done by @lilleeboi (keep an eye out because there will be an updated version :3)

Name: Elizabeth

Gender: Cisgender woman

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 118yrs

Height: 204cm

Orientation: Aromantic Bisexual

Affiliation: Goddess Lurza and the vampire faction

Belief faction: The worshipers of the Unwillting Rose

Personality: Eliza has a condescending, confident nature of a predator sure of their strength. Once a high-class lady, now a sharp toothed monster, Eliza wishes for nothing more than to be seen as she once was. Beautiful, elegant, worthy of admiration and awe. She carries herself with those assumptions and Lurza help those who may contradict them because Eliza is not of forgiving kind. The vampire world is one made of lies and illusions and Eliza is more than happy to play her part. She pays close attention to manners and etiquette even when doing the most monstrous deeds, as even the most gruesome acts must be prettied up and presented in the right way. This doesn’t make her any less of a vampire though. She nurtures a sadistic nature, a love to play with her prey much like a cat, toying with them until the moment she gets bored and devours what is left. When tables are turned and those of higher power start toying with her, fracturs in the mask appear. She has little patience for being talked down to, for her status being questioned or for being dismissed. Such irritations quickly lead to passive aggressiveness and, if uncurbed, vengeful violence. She is a pretty beast but she is still a beast when the chips are down. (Second) life long worshiper of Lurza, Eliza is pretty much a fanatic, hosting parties and sacrificial ceremonies in her goddess’ name. She spares little blood for these events, wanting to get the goddess attention and hoping to be blessed by her. The natural state of decay the vampires find themselves in distresses her greatly, and she hopes that with enough worship her goddess might look upon her kindly, return the beauty she once possessed and grant her eternal salvation from the curse. She cares little if any other vampire gets the same benefit. While seemingly heavily social in nature, Eliza is very much the kind of person who puts herself and her own well being first. In the end this world is a food chain and she is going to make sure she ends up on top of it.

Appearance: There is no such thing as too much. Eliza is a lady of fine society and that is visible in the way she dresses. Full ball gowns, plentiful jewellery and high heels to match are the order of the day. Her signature colors and red and black, with gold accents here and there to spruce up the ensemble. She is quite found of big, hanging earrings and detailed necklaces and collars as it’s incredibly base to show one’s neck in the presence of other vampires. The illusion magic she weaves over herself leaves her hair looking rich and thick and gives somewhat of a blush to her skin, but she is still incredibly pale as there must, after all, be a visible difference between a distinguished vampire and a lowly human. Her real form is something else entirely. Underneath the layers of magic, Eliza is a decrepit, sunken in monster, with sickly, pale pink skin collapsing in waves over her features. Her nails sharp as claws and teeth crooked and stained with blood. Her hair a lifeless mop upon her misshapen head. She considers it better for people to die than to walk away having seen her true form.

Interests: Dancing, music, fashion, gossip

Fears: Break ins, people seeing her true self

Habits and quirks: Sadistic and playful in her manner of speaking, she often talks down to people and ghosts over their opinions entirely if they don’t match hers. She loves great many things and marks each with a special pet name.

Goals: Advance her position in the vampire society and become recognized by her goddess

Lines in the sand: Eliza is the type to go with the flow of almost anything as long as it’s going in her favor. Trouble arises when her authority and class is questioned and when the fact that she’s a relatively low ranked vampire is brought up. Polite society can take a lot, but not mockery. Attempting to reveal, or even just seeing her true for on accident provokes untameable wrath.

Nightmare of the body: Like with all the vampires, Eliza’s observable body is an illusion. A magic trick designed specifically to counter the curse resting on their kind which leaves their bodies decaying. Eliza cannot make her peace with it. She despises her real body and puts extra efforts in always maintaining her illusion, often fiddling with the little details of it. She will wear it socially, but also privately, only breaking effort to keep up the magic when she is absolutely sure nobody will see her for a good amount of time. And even then, she avoids mirrors like a plague and tries not to perceive the way her body looks. Accepting her body the way it is seems like a completely impossible task and one she would rather die than undertake.

[mdhwrites]

First off I want to say that your TOH criticals are a good read. It puts my grievances with the show in words I can only ever feel and brings a bit of closure in the "whys" of those grievances. That being said I haven't gone through all of them, so feel free to direct me if you've already made comments about my upcoming ask elsewhere.

Regarding Elsewhere and Elsewhen, what do you think of the show using time-travel as a plot device only once and not returning to it? The way they used it, Luz might-or-might-not be a catalyst for what wounded up happening and we might-or-might-not be watching a show that's been on an alternate timeline. I would think that's a pretty big deal but the show just moves on from it; Luz might as well have given Belos that glyph in the present since time-travel is never dwelled on again.

I think it would have helped make a more solid finale if they used time-travel again because of the possibilities, where ALL the characters could benefit from it, instead of whatever the intention of 3 characters babysitting The Collector was.

So first, thank you for the kind words! Secondly... No. Just no. Time travel is REALLY tricky to use in a narratively fulfilling way. This is because you run the risk of creating a paradox or having it not matter OR BOTH like TOH since the literal only real change from Luz entering feels to be the saving of the journal. The Collector otherwise was about to teach him other magic, we never get an instance where him learning the light glyph is important and he literally already killed one person doing this scheme of his: He would have found another. Literally the only thing that really changes is the EXACT when of the Collector and Belos meeting, which hardly matters with how much time Belos had, and the journal which... only brought about Luz and changes literally nothing else if lost so... Yeah, even if it's a stable timeloop, it's a really dumb one that still has the paradox of Luz needing to show up to save the journal.

And if this feels overly critical... Blame the trope. Time Travel plots usually are ALL about the consequences. Going back in time inherently begs that question for the audience. There's a reason why a lot of time travel stories end with the lesson of DON'T FUCK WITH THE TIMELINE and restore all to status quote with the main character having not changed anything. Or it introduces multiple timelines like Dragonball Z to allow a series to eat its cake and have it too.

So what is my advice for time travel plots?... Lean into the fun of it. See, a lot of my issues with the specifics of the time travel element of Elsewhere Elsewhen are nitpicks. The larger issue for the episode is that it's just the WORST version of Lilith, Lilith and Luz are at their absolute dumbest, arguably at least as dumb for Luz as she was in the SECOND EPISODE. And this is the second episode of the second half of the second season. I think it's reasonable to ask for a little better from Luz at this point.

But the time travel itself is mostly just... There. They don't do ANYTHING with it in the episode, between like two good jokes that are mostly just portal jokes frankly more than time travel episodes except for a little tweak in flavor. The Isles we're shown is incredibly boring. What they do there is boring. Philip is EXCESSIVELY boring... So what am I supposed to focus on?

So I focus on the mechanics of the plot. And how stupid they are. And how literally they seem to reclassify how the portals work 3+ times because they could stick their heads in and out but that doesn't constitute it moving because now it would inherently be in the same place twice, they found the portals because they were in the sand but now if that sand gets moved by the tide, it'll make the portal disappear? Couldn't they just wait until morning? Or is there a timer on them? How do they know when the portals first showed up? For that matter, why the fuck does a device that is likely most tracking magical anomalies need Titan's Blood to detect an anomaly as strong as TIME MAGIC which doesn't seem to have been developed yet in the Isles?

And yeah, if that sounds like nitpicks... You're right. But you nitpick when Suspension of Disbelief is broken and the most common way it breaks? Boredom. Sheer fucking boredom. If what is happening on screen that you're supposed to just mentally tank as "Yeah, that sounds fine" even when it might be a bit dumb logically is just boring... Why tank it? Why not question it when in the questioning, you might enjoy yourself more than simply accepting what the show is doing.

Star Wars: The Last Jedi is the MASTERCLASS at how to fuck up Suspension of Disbelief seven ways to Sunday because everything sucks and nothing you do matters, but at least that was part of the movie's point. With TOH... You don't get anything for watching it. Satisfying reunions of friends? Nah. Amity and Willow never have a satisfying friendship. A grand tale about a human rising up with her found family and her hard won magical powers? Frankly, how much do King and Eda actually do in the finale? Like they're there but swap them with literally anyone else (like how Raine is just randomly right by Luz's side effectively too for this finale) and nothing really changes because their involvement isn't important. Luz's magic isn't earned nor even HERS. Want a satisfying conclusion to Palisman? Nope because Stringbean makes no sense. Want satisfying character arcs? Look elsewhere because we're not going to look into the hardships that come about with those changes, despite both Hunter and Amity having VERY clear reasons why this change would be potentially DANGEROUS for them.

Elsewhere Elsewhen is just of a kind that way. Outside of its first five minutes, and the two minutes with Dell... What are you getting out of this episode? Comic relief Eda which is always the worst comedy in the show and this is the worst of it as Eda is bonked with the stupid stick like Lilith and Luz? Lilith and Luz interacting with a SINGLE person in the past who doesn't even reflect the culture of the Isles back then so he could have been just a homeless person in the present if not for the twist it's Belos? For the lack of puzzle? For the strict anti-climax of the threat because Luz was lucky enough to poke her head into the right portal to give her the solution at the end?

And that episode is one of the most important plot points of the SERIES. It is one of the only plot points that is actually brought back and kept consistent and one of the only, ONLY times something happens and it actually affects Luz, even if it's delayed. This is the episode that revealed that Belos and Philip were the same person. It is critical to the series overall.

And most of it is just a BORING waste of time. While doing TIME TRAVEL. Instead, their priorities in this episode were really lazy 'subtle' storytelling to say the covens are bad and to allude to the twist at the end of its own episode and... Not fucking much else.

And why should that be surprising? We never get a proper idea of what the Isles and its people are like because we don't spend real time with them (besides them just being humans), it's contradicted all the time, etc. like that and that is their MAIN setting and time period. Is it really that surprising that the Isles of the past is just a utopia to these writers? Or that they literally have to ignore the conversations they themselves wrote for fish out of water jokes when the witches go to the human realm?

But these aren't concepts in a professional work you can half ass. You have to actually give a damn about a trip to a new universe or time period for the episode to not reel rote or boring or the like.

And, well, I'd love to see the timeline where the writers really cared about a lot more of TOH than they seemed to have.

[baura-bear]

MAURA IMPORTANT AS FUCK !!!!!! what do you think david's favorite books are. make this as self indulgent as you want bc then i will also learn what books you like :33 personally i think he loves classic polish books (they help him reconnect with that part of his identity which can be a little hard considering he lives so far away) such as pan tadeusz or kordian and especially wesele (it didn't come out until the 1900s but shhh he would LOVE wesele) and also i think he really loves 20,000 leagues under the sea (i think he just loves the fantastic elements, the way the ocean is described + also captain nemo was originally supposed to be polish and yadda yadda i don't want to dump too much here..) AND little women. because of reasons i think. the march family dynamic is so sweet and also i definitely think david's gay ass would find laurie cute SORRY i got really passionate about this my bad.

Guys, I had and Epic Autism Moment so this will all be under the cut. You have no clue what you've started Dave <3

OMG YES YES YES!!! I LOVE THIS! ok ok ok so i definitely agree with you about the polish literature thing (although i obviously don't know anything about polish literature) I always imagined David to live in an immigrant neighborhood (and of course be an immigrant himself) and I'm sure he has several neighbors who, throughout his youth, lent him and gifted him books.

(going off the rails for a second idc) I think his family is really active in the community (of course they attend shul) Mayer and Esther love talking with the neighbors and having them over for dinner or just tea or something. Esther mends clothes to make a little extra money so she frequently has folks coming to her with that. I also think there's a kosher deli nearby and Mayer is friends with the owner (well the whole Jacobs family is friends with their family) I know that in 92sies it's established that Mayer works in a factory but with the stage version we get a bit more lenience PLUS (this might sound terrible) but like. his injury doesn't look that bad in 92sies (LET ME EXPLAIN) his arm is just in a sling so we can infer his arm is broken (i honestly don't remember if they ever say??) but I feel like he'd be able to a job like he wouldn't be completely indisposed. anyway in the stage version it makes more sense that he has a leg injury and can't walk, hence the inability to work. I imagine he helps do deliveries and like loading stuff off of carts. His injury actually happened out on the street trying to stop a kid from getting hit by a wagon and he did, it was just to his expense. "twisted his leg up real bad" I take that literally like.. it got caught in the wheel and twisted up. and I think the deli owner saw it happen and got him home (along with a few other fellas and a doctor).

ANYWAy the whole reason I say that is just like. I think the Jacobs are a well liked family in the community and everyone always found David endearing and saw his love of reading and writing and wanted to help give him the resources he needed (especially being a polish kid removed from his culture they wanted to help restore that)

I agree that he likes Little Women!! He also enjoyed reading War and Peace (I haven't finished it yet but I just KNOW Davey loves Pierre because little awkward man who's probably autistic). I think he also enjoys Wuthering Heights (which admittedly I haven't read but my friend really loves it and has talked about it so I think he would enjoy it) along with poetry. I think he loves books/stories/poems that are very descriptive and have good imagery because it helps him transport himself and like really be engulfed by the story

He'd read Moby Dick but he despises it. He wanted an epic ocean adventure but half the chapters are just all about whales (like science-y and shit) which,,, would be fine if he'd picked up a textbook about whales. He just wanted more from it and didn't enjoy the ending. WHICH IS WHY he prefers 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea because if he wants to read a good story involving the ocean he's not gonna pick up Moby fucking Dick.

um. yeah.

i had literally never thought about this before but the second that I saw the ask i was typing up a storm. hehe

ALSO LITERALLY STOP APOLOGIZING I LOVE WHEN ANYTHING FROM YOU APPEARS IN MY ASK BOX you could send me a ten page essay and I would read it beginning to end like :DDDDD and enjoy every second

[ninjagirlstar5]

Protag Teruya AU - Mikado Sannoji's FTE (Part 4)

Word count is 7,145!

AO3 Version

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

Disclaimer: While Sannotori is problematic, it’s a thing in this AU/fic and the dynamic is not the same as it is in canon.  

The Protag Teruya AU was inspired by @/anotherprofessional’s post! Beware of Void spoilers though!  

Fic is under read more!

“Holy–”

“Whoa, step back!”

Teruya scrambles away from the Monocrow Machine as it violently shakes. Setsuka, who was doing her own shopping in the gift shop, helps him to his feet and they run to the other side of the store. They keep their distance from the machine as it struggles to function, before it finally spits out the gift. Or rather, gifts as multiple objects spill out from the vending machine. The noises from the Monocrow Machine eventually calmed down and went quiet. Certain that nothing else was going to pop out or explode, Teruya cautiously moved forward to examine the gifts.

“...Books?” Teruya said, dumbfounded as he kneels down to pick one up. The book didn’t have a title on it, but the cover had fancy engravings in black and a symbol that was a triangle with an eyeball in the middle. He can’t help but feel a little bit creeped out as he opens the book to try and read it. But he quickly realizes that he can’t as it was filled with runes he did not understand at all. “What kind of books are these??”

“Let me see…ooo, looks like these books might be about magic!” Setsuka said, picking up a book and scanning through it. Her smile wanes a bit. “...Too bad I can’t understand any of this.”

“Oh…” Teruya blinks. Honestly, with all these symbols and runes, it’d make the most sense that these were spell books. What else could they be just by the aesthetic alone? He starts stacking the books on top of each other and speaks as he thinks. “Where does Monocrow even find this kind of stuff…?”

“Honestly, it’s probably stuff from Hope’s Peak.” Setsuka hands him the book she held. “I mean, they’re a school made to study our talents and help us develop them. So it’d make sense they’d find stuff for someone like Mikado…Even if he’s like, the first wizard I’ve ever heard of.”

“Yeah…” Teruya sets the book on top of the stack and starts to question how he’s going to move all of these books. There’s no way all of them will fit in his backpack and it’ll be too heavy to carry even if he could. “I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever seen magic even before I got amnesia. But even then, it’s weird that they’re able to find all this stuff for a talent that felt so…obscure up to this point. Especially since it’s all about magic, something…something that’s never been real. You know?”

“Hm…that is a good point.” Setsuka frowns…before shrugging her shoulders as she starts to grin again. “Maybe there’s a secret society of magic users no one has heard of until now!”

“Um…” Teruya hesitates. He didn’t want to shoot down Setsuka’s enthusiasm, nor did he want to question her idea if it was actually plausible. He just…didn’t want to come off as incompetent. And yet, the reminder of his journal and the questions he had asked himself last night encouraged him to speak up. After all, Mikado did tell him to get used to asking questions if he wanted to improve his thinking. “...Why, uh, why do you think so?”

“Hm? Oh, well…it is a concept in fiction. And since Mikado seems like the real deal, it would make sense that magic would have to come from somewhere.” Setsuka said, crossing her arms and answering his question head on. “I don’t know where or how he learned his magic, but he had to learn somehow if he were to become the Ultimate Wizard.” Her smile widens as she raises her index finger. “Sooo if a secret society of magic users exists, then Hope’s Peak could’ve found a way to contact them and asked for materials to help nurture his talent!”

“That…I mean, it could be possible.” Teruya admits, even if he had his doubts. Thinking on it harder only strengthened them as Mikado said that he never had a mentor and was completely self-taught through a book he found by chance. And if there was a secret society of magic users, well, that only brought up more questions than answers. “But, um…how do I explain myself…? I don’t think that would make much sense…?” He rubs his forehead. Setsuka doesn’t push him, simply waiting for him to gather his thoughts. Teruya appreciated her patience. “If magic has existed for years, centuries even…why are we only hearing this now? Why haven’t magic users made themselves known before? I mean, I don’t remember our history at all, but I’m pretty sure some people would be interested in using magic to help or hurt others. And if there really is a secret society, uh…how would Hope’s Peak find them?”

“...That I don’t know.” Setsuka admits, scratching the back of her head. She was still smiling but her expression was much more awkward now. “I’ll admit, I was mostly spitballing the first idea that came to mind. And it’s not like Hope’s Peak is able to grab their hands on information that should’ve been hidden. Take Ruko or even Syobai as an example. Neither of them were trying to gain Hope’s Peak’s attention but they were found out anyway and got scouted into the school. I’m just saying, if it did exist and Hope’s Peak Academy somehow got into contact with them, I wouldn’t be surprised.” She then sighs and shrugs her shoulders. “But who knows? The whole magic thing is pretty much new to everyone here and the only one who’s even intimate with that knowledge is Mikado himself…and he ain’t really talking. So all we can really do is speculate!”

“...Yeah, that’s all we really can do, huh?” Teruya stands up and stares down at the stack of spell books. He was tempted to mention that Mikado learned magic all on his own but decided against it. That was a part of Mikado’s past, and it was something he had opened up to him about. Not anyone else. So he shouldn’t spill it out to others willy-nilly as that was information only he was trusted with so far. “We don’t really have the evidence to speculate in the first place. And it wouldn’t really be a secret society if we knew all about it anyways.” Setsuka nods but doesn’t add anything else. With the topic officially dying out, Teruya looks around to figure out how he’s going to transport all of these books. When his eyes land on some strings, an idea forms in his head and he walks over to the shelf. He had to pay for them from his handbook but he didn’t care as he had an abundance of Crow-Cards at this point. Taking a decent amount of string, he carefully lays them down on the floor before putting the stack of books on top. He then grabs the string and ties them together at the top, keeping the stack together in one piece. “This should work…”

“I’d say so.” Setsuka rubs her right eye, leaning over to stare at his handiwork. “You’re really good at tying knots. I kinda just wing it and then I’m stuck with a big tangle of strings instead.”

“I could teach you next time we hang out.” Teruya offered, testing the weight of the books before deciding to just pick them up from the bottom. With a huff, he manages to carry them with ease.

“Maybe next time! You look like you have places to be right now.” Setsuka said, not denying or accepting the request. Probably something they can talk about next time. “Gonna hang out with Mikado now?”

“Yep.” Teruya said, popping the ‘p.’ “He’s giving me lessons in the library and I don’t want to be late for that.”

“Ooo, lessons! What kind of lessons?” She grins mischievously, nudging her elbow against his side. Teruya blinks at her.

“Uh…Investigation lessons? Cause, you know, I, uh, kinda sucked at the fake class trial. So Mikado offered to help and I don’t want to get left behind.” Teruya explained. He readjusts his grip, completely missing the slightly disappointed look Setsuka sends his way. “I better get going. See ya.”

“Ah, sure. See ya, Teru!” Setsuka smiles back at him and leaves the gift shop first. The nickname made his heart both flutter and tighten. Teruya takes a deep breath. He should focus on what’s important right now.

He walks down the halls of the Monocruise, slowly making his way towards the library. When he finally reached the double doors, he had to use his foot to push it open. Almost immediately, his eyes land on Mikado reading another book. It would’ve been a nice, peaceful sight to witness if he hadn’t noticed that the cover was another psychology book, reminding him of Kokoro's possible motivations again. Mikado’s real eye glances up from the book, looks back down, and then does a double take.

“What are you carrying?” Mikado asked, lifting his face from his book. Teruya simply sends him a smile.

“Spell books, apparently.” He said. Mikado blinks his eyes, both real and mask, as Teruya sets down the stack on the table with a grunt. “Maybe I should spend more time in the gym. My arms are actually sore from carrying all of these.” He stretches, lifting his arms above his head until his spine makes a popping sound.

“I believe that’s a sign you should rest, not over do it.” Mikado closes his book and it disappears into his cape. He then leans over to look at the stack of books. “I’m assuming that these are a gift?”

“Yep!” Teruya’s smile grew a little bit before he undid the tie. He hands Mikado the first book. “I don’t know if you’ve seen these books before, but I remember that you wanted to learn more about magic. And this stuff popped out of the Monocrow Machine earlier. So I thought you’d want something like this.” Mikado stares at the book before taking it. He flips it open and starts scanning the contents, his eyes glowing along with the words. Teruya leans in, wondering what Mikado could be doing with his magic.

“This…This is…” Mikado suddenly shuts the book. Teruya flinched at the sudden sound, but the wizard was already taking the second book to look through it. The same glowing effect takes place and then he closes it. He stares at the cover intently. “Teruya, these books…”

“Uhhh, yeah?” Teruya shifts on the ball of his feet. He hoped he didn’t somehow offend Mikado. Were the books fake somehow? Or something far worse? He certainly starts to fear for the worse when Mikado’s mask suddenly goes blank, just like the times when he would go into shock. His body breaks out in a sweat. “I, uh, I’m-”

“I’ve been looking for these books since…forever.” His voice cuts him off, quiet and restrained. Mikado lifts the book to his face before holding it close to his chest. “And you’re giving these…to me?”

“Uhhhh, yeah!” Teruya laughs awkwardly. “I mean, as long as you like them! If you don’t-”

“Like them?” Mikado said, almost sounding baffled. And when he turned around, Teruya felt himself freeze. His mask was completely blank, but his face…his real face. It was giving him this big smile, his eye shining bright like gold. “I love them! I could never get my hands on the full set before and you just…You got all of the books! And you’re giving them to me. You’re…You’re really…really giving it to me…right?”

Teruya gulps.

“Y-Yeah, of course I am! You love magic and you’d get the most out of this so…” Teruya rubs his neck, averting his gaze. He tries to fight against the blush rising to his face. “So it’s yours.”

It was then that Mikado got out of seat and took his hand.

“Thank you!” Mikado said, jumping up and down with a squeal. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” And just as quickly as he had held his hand, he lets go and pulls the stack of books closer to his side of the table. “I can’t wait to read all of these! Maybe I can squeeze some time in at night…ah, but…Hm…I need to do some research…But the books…!”

“Heh…” Teruya couldn’t help himself. Even as Mikado’s gaze snaps back to him, he just keeps chuckling. “Sorry, it’s just…It’s, uh, cute. To see you get all excited.” Teruya smiles at the wizard. “You look great with a smile. A real smile.”

“Real…ah!” Mikado’s eye goes wide before turning away. He covers the mask with his hand. “I…didn’t mean to smile like that.” Teruya feels his heart sink a little. But only briefly as Mikado’s ears slowly start to turn red. “But…thank you. For the compliment.”

“Uh, heh, you’re welcome.” Teruya said, unable to keep himself from blushing any longer. He sits down with his hands in his lap. Mikado also sat back down. The two of them weren’t able to look at each other until the blush on Mikado’s ears went down. As soon as that happened, Mikado put his hand down and his mask went back to normal. It blinks its wide eye before going to its normal smile. He turns to him, his real face going back to its usual blank expression.

Teruya wished he could see that smile again.

“Thank you for the books, Otori-san. I will be sure to put them to good use.” Mikado said, setting the two other books back on the stack. He waves his cape over it and just like that, the stack disappears underneath it. He then adjusts his cape behind himself. “I will find you a suitable gift later.”

“Oh, no. You don’t have to do something like that.” Teruya raises both of his hands to try and appease him, feeling the blush on his face start to cool. But Mikado was already shaking his head.

“I insist, Otori-san. You’ve been spoiling me with gifts since we’ve been hanging out. It’s only natural that I give you something in return.” Mikado rubs his thumbs together, clearly pleased. “Especially after you gave me a wonderful gift.”

“...You’re not gonna budge, no matter what I say, huh?” Teruya said, caving in with a chuckle. He sets his hands down on the table. “Well…I guess I’ll just look forward to it then.”

“Please do.” Mikado then pulls out his handbook and sets it up on the table. “With that out of the way, let us get into the lesson. Did you do the assignment I asked you to do yesterday?”

“Yeah. It’s all in my journal.” Teruya pulls it out from his coat. Flipping it to the most recent pages, he lays it flat on the table and adjusts it so Mikado can read it better from his side. He had tried his best to brainstorm any and all questions he could think of last night, mostly about himself, the killing game and Kokoro’s role as the mastermind. Most of it was stuff he already knew or discussed with others in the dining room. But it’s good to have it on record so he can reference it later. Honestly, it was something he probably should’ve done from the start. “So, uh, where should we start?”

“How about the first page…which is apparently about yourself.” Mikado said, tapping on the page in question. He scoots his chair closer so he can read it better. On the page, he had written down ‘My Identity’ and circled it. After that, he made a few branching points and tried to keep the questions to one word or as short as possible to save space. He already listed his name since meeting Rei Mekaru and that woman was the closest people to be able to confirm that much. Unless they were lying, but he’d rather not think about that. They acted like they knew him, so they were probably the best people to trust when it comes to his missing identity.

Too bad they’re dead. It would make things so much easier for him if he knew himself. Or at least, his name.

“Hm…there’s little notes about your name.” Mikado points at it. “‘Shining house’...”

“Oh, I was just trying to see what kind of kanji spellings I can use for my name.” Teruya said, leaning closer. “I know my e-handbook already shows how it’s spelled. I just thought it’d be good to cover my bases, you know?”

“I see…” Mikado’s finger traces the kanji before him. There weren’t many spellings to his name, to be honest. His e-handbook spelled his name ‘Teruya Otori’ with the ‘teru’ kanji meaning ‘to illuminate’ or ‘to shine’ and the ‘ya’ kanji meaning ‘shop’, while ‘Otori’ straight up meant ‘large bird'. Any other spellings were pretty similar if not the same. Teruya can also be written as ‘shining house’ and some spellings with Otori can be spelled ‘Phoenix’ or something similar to ‘big bird.’ Not a lot of spellings when it comes to his name. But that clues him in that his parents had chosen a very specific name for him at least. “What is a ‘Fenghuang?’ Feels foreign.”

“Ah…I think it’s a bird from Chinese mythology.” Teruya scratches his cheek with his finger. The information was once again flowing through his head, like it was the most natural thing for him to know. “An immortal bird, like a phoenix, is an omen of good luck…I think. It’s just another way to spell ‘Otori,’ if I’m doing this correctly.”

“Your kanji spelling makes sense, if that’s what you’re asking.” Mikado lifts his hand up to mouth with a chuckle. “A phoenix…it would certainly explain the little drawing you made, huh?” Teruya glances at the drawing in question. It was of a bird, made of circles and swirls, three feathers on top of its head, two tails and its wing was in front of its body like it was in the middle of flying. He licks his lips before shrugging.

“It just came to me, to be honest.” Teruya admits. The moment he had written down Fenghuang, the image just flowed into his brain and he couldn’t help but draw it right that instant. Upon looking at the little doodle, his heart had started to ache. But of course, no memories came back to him. Just a vague feeling that simply made his chest hurt. He almost wanted to shut his journal then and there, but he pushed on. He wanted to explore every question he could think of, for the sake of completing Mikado’s assignment. “...It’s a cute drawing. I think the design made an impression on me, but I don’t know where…”

“...Actually, I think I do recognize that specific doodle from somewhere.” Mikado speaks up and Teruya instantly straightens his posture.

“You do?!” He gapes at him with wide eyes. “Where??”

“Calm down.” Mikado puts his hand up to soothe him. Teruya shifts in his seat but calms his excitement. He probably shouldn’t get his hopes up too much. That would only be setting himself up for disappointment. “...I believe it’s part of a logo. A business that dabbled in almost anything you could think of.”

“Anything you could think of…” Teruya felt his brain throb, a familiarity surfacing in his memory. But it doesn’t break through, much to his disappointment. “...Do you remember what it’s called? If I’m drawing the logo, it must be important…or something.”

“...Don’t freak out. But, well…” Mikado pauses before his real eye looks away. His words are blunt and straight to the point. “It’s called the ‘Otori Mart.’”

“...Huh?” He stares at him, processing his words. “The…Otori Mart…” His jaw was hanging before the pieces finally clicked in his head and he snapped his mouth shut. He stands from his seat and slams his hands against the table. Mikado jolts. “Why didn’t you mention this sooner?! That’s…That’s my name! It has my name!”

“My apologies…I simply didn’t want to confuse you.” Mikado said, cringing at his shrill voice. Teruya made his displeasure clear on his face by frowning deeply. The wizard gestures for him to sit down. “Allow me to explain, at least.” Teruya narrows his eyebrows but he slowly sits back down. Once he did, Mikado continued. “...I was not aware that you and the Otori Mart were possibly related. Just because you share a name with a business doesn’t necessarily mean that there is a connection. The possibility of a coincidence is always there and nothing more. And because I lacked the evidence to connect you and the Otori Mart beyond just your name, I didn’t want to bring it up as it would confuse you. Reality does not always coincide with imagination, and it’d be easy to build up an expectation of your past self when it could be farther from the truth. At best, you’d be disappointed. At worst…you may end up trying to reject your past self. And I don’t want you to do that to yourself. Regardless of what the truth is, that past is still a part of you. Even if you never remember it.”

“...So, in other words…you were keeping quiet because you didn’t want me to believe in something that might not be true.” Teruya slowly summed up. Mikado nods his head. “I…see.” He looks away. Now he felt a little shameful. “That, um, makes sense actually…”

“I’m sorry I have kept quiet up till now. I just didn’t want to make assumptions without the evidence to back it up.” Mikado said, looking back at the doodle of the bird. “It’s…a bit circumstantial as evidence. But if the logo made such a strong impression on you, perhaps there is a deeper connection.”

“Do you…know if the Otori Mart has an heir? Someone to inherit the business?” Teruya asked. It felt natural to ask such a question. Mikado, however, was already shaking his head.

“I’m afraid that’s…beyond me. I wouldn’t know how a business works behind the scenes.” Mikado scratches the back of his head, almost as if he was disappointed in himself. “Unless it was on the news, I don’t know if the Otori Mart is a business that runs on family inheritance. And even then, I barely paid any attention to the news unless I noticed something very concerning.”

“Ah…Well, I guess I shouldn’t expect it to be that easy.” Teruya sighs and pulls out a pen. He adds the Otori Mart under a bubble labeled ‘past’ with a question mark on the end. “But it’s something. Thank you for speaking up on this…and, um, I’m sorry for snapping earlier.”

“Do not apologize for that. It’s understandable that you would be upset as it’s a possible connection to your past.” Mikado waves his hand placatingly before setting it down on the table. “Keyword possible. We shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

“I understand.” Teruya then looks back at the page. “I think we should move on from my name. It’s one of the few things I know for certain about myself.”

“Very well. Hmm…” Mikado points to another bubble. “I see you put your own age and talent in question marks. Your lack of an idea for a talent makes sense, as we could only speculate on it based on the skills and interests you’ve shown so far.” His finger circles the talents he had listed out, some of which were the ones Mikado suggested in the past. Others were ones he came up with on his own, like bank teller, financier or advertiser to list a few. But none of them really clicked in his head so they all had question marks around them. “But why are you questioning your age?”

“Uh…I mean, I know I’m a Hope’s Peak Student. I wouldn’t be here as your classmate if I wasn’t.” Teruya runs his fingers through his hair. “But, I don’t know. When I saw Rei Mekaru and that woman, I felt…strangely attached to them? I don’t know, I just…I feel a bit more closer to Shinji’s age…or something.”

“I see.” Mikado was quiet for a while. He then shrugs. “It’s not unheard of for there to be older Hope’s Peak Students. Shinji is a living example of that. And we should keep in mind that height does not necessarily equate to one’s age.”

“Yeah, I know.” Teruya props his hand on his chin. “Yuri is short as hell but he’s the same age as everyone else. I guess I just feel a little weird about my age since I don’t even remember the specific number. Let alone my own birthday.”

“If we ever come across any evidence about yourself or get out of here, you will find out eventually.” Mikado assured, staring down at the journal. Teruya slowly nods his head. He supposed he’ll just have to wait and see. Assuming he survives long enough to find out. If only Rei Mekaru and that woman were still around, they probably would’ve given him the answers he seeks.

Speaking of which…

“Do you have any guesses about my relation to the Kisaragi Foundation?” Teruya points at the ‘past’ bubble with the name of the organization written underneath. “Like, maybe I worked and developed my talent there?”

“Perhaps.” Mikado puts his finger up to his lips. “It would certainly be an explanation for how they knew you. But it’s possible that there are other ways you’ve gotten to know them. Ms. Mekaru was the Former Ultimate Professor, correct? Perhaps she tutored you.”

“Haha, maybe.” Teruya said with a chuckle. While it was an on the fly suggestion, it feels as though something like that had happened in the past. He couldn’t remember it, but he definitely had that feeling. He looks down at the list again. The Kisaragi Foundation, the Otori Mart, his familiarity with Yuki Maeda and that guy from the portrait, his family…He clicks his tongue. “Yuki isn’t much help. If he doesn’t remember me, there’s no point in asking. The guy from the portrait is dead, according to Kokoro and as much as I don’t trust her, I don’t see why she would lie. She seemed…genuine in her grief. And my family…” Teruya puts his hand over his chest. “When I try to think about my mother, I don’t feel much. Maybe I’m a little sad but it’s nothing I can’t deal with. But when I…think about my father…” He swallows, trying to get rid of this lump in his throat.

But it doesn’t go away.

Even as he tried not to think about it, it felt hard to breathe.

Like something was choking him, drowning him in a sea of sorrow.

He can see someone in his head, his back turned to him as he sits at his desk. Warm and comforting.

But no matter how he tries to reach out to him, he feels the memory sink deeper into the abyss. Never to be found again.

Like the days of being held were gone, gone, gone–

“Otori-san. Otori-san.”

He feels a hand wrap around his. Teruya flinches as it’s pulled away from his neck, letting go of the scarf he held so tightly. He felt sweat cling to his skin, his chest felt like it was tight and in pain, and his heart kept rapidly pounding against his ribs. But Mikado uses his other hand to make Teruya face him, staring right into his eyes.

“It’s okay. You can get through this.” Mikado said gently, rubbing his thumb along his hand. “Just slow your breathing. Count to ten. I will help you so watch me.”

Mikado takes in a slow deep breath, holds, and then lets it out. Teruya focuses on him and follows his example. The wizard counts out loud for him, repeating with each breath he takes, stops, and lets out. They do this a couple of times until the pain in his chest slowly alleviates. He can feel himself calming down and once he does, his grip on Mikado starts to loosen.

“Do you need anything, Otori-san? I can go grab it right now.” Mikado asked, still rubbing his thumb along his hand. Teruya stares at their conjoined hands, quiet.

“What…What about our lesson…?” Teruya looks up. Mikado’s mask forms a small frown.

“You can’t learn if your body is shutting down on you. If you’re not up for it, we can always skip today’s lesson and relax.” Mikado said, holding his hand tightly. When Teruya starts to frown, he slowly shakes his head. “I know you’re concerned about getting left behind. But you shouldn’t push yourself. You’ll only get frustrated.”

“...Okay…” He finally caves in. He just felt so tired right now that he can’t bring himself to argue. “Can you…grab me some water?”

“Right away.” Mikado lets go of his hand and in the blink of an eye, he disappears in a flash of fire. Teruya barely had to sit there for a minute before the wizard came back with a water bottle in hand. He twists the cap without him asking to. “Here you go, Otori-san.”

“Thanks…” Teruya murmured before lifting the drink to his lips. The cool water made him close his eyes at the refreshing taste. After downing a few gulps, he finally starts to relax a little and smacks his lips once he’s done. Teruya sets the water bottle on the table and leans against it with a sigh. “Ah, that feels good.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Mikado said, sitting back down on the chair. He pulls the journal over to his side of the table. “Moving on from yourself…it seems you’ve written down questions about our situation and Kokoro, although it’s stuff we’ve already speculated about. Including her strange motivations about brains and memories…although I see you’ve written down ‘Remnants of Despair’ as well.”

“I mean…Rei Mekaru mentioned it before. Which means this group of people are very dangerous, not unlike Kokoro.” Teruya explains his thoughts. He rubs his forehead with a sigh. “I don’t know…or rather, I don’t remember what they are. All I know is that they’re bad. Bad enough that Rei Mekaru called Kokoro that on the day we all woke up in this killing game.”

“Yes…she has.” Mikado said slowly. His mask slowly smiles. “You’re putting all of this together very nicely, Otori-san.”

“I-I am?” Teruya lifts his head, staring at him with wide eyes. Mikado nods his head.

“Yes. While the answers aren’t concrete, you’re speculating, which means you’re using your brain. That’s good.” Mikado slides his journal back over to him. “It means you’re being curious and that means this assignment went very well. Keep it up, Otori-san.”

“Uh, hehehe…” Teruya feels a smile grow on his face from the praise. He still wasn’t feeling well, but the compliment cheered him up. If only a little bit.

“...Do you wish to continue the lesson, Otori-san?” Mikado tilts his head at him. “If you feel like we can continue, we can go ahead with the plan.”

“Um…” Teruya hesitates. He wanted to continue their lesson. He knows they should. He needed this if he wanted to be useful in a class trial. If there ever is another class trial. But…his brain felt completely fried right now. And his gut was telling him that there was no way he'd be absorbing any sort of knowledge tonight. Not after what just happened with his body just moments ago. “...To be honest, I don’t think I can do this today. But I still want to learn something. Otherwise, I feel like we just wasted an entire day.”

“...How about this then?” Mikado starts putting away his handbook. “We spend the rest of our time working on that jigsaw puzzle we haven’t finished, and I give you an assignment to work on for later. Does this compromise work for you?”

“Yeah…Yeah, I think I like that idea.” Teruya smiles a little bit as he lifts his head. “Although I can’t promise I’ll be able to finish it tonight.”

“That’s fine. The best plans are the ones that are flexible, so I don’t mind changing things up. Even if it is only our second day of starting these lessons.” Mikado said, pulling the jigsaw puzzle box out of his cape. “And even if you don’t finish the assignment tonight, just think about it. Okay?”

“Alright.” Teruya replied, straightening his posture. “...Thank you, Mikado.”

Mikado’s mask smiles at him before scooting his chair closer to him. He then sets the box down and carefully sets up their jigsaw puzzle. With his magic, it was very easy to keep the half completed puzzle together and set it down on the table, along with the piles of puzzle pieces they made last time. Both of them were quiet as they started picking up pieces and putting them together. But eventually, Mikado speaks up.

“Did you remember something?” He asks, his voice low but gentle. Teruya lifts his head just as he attaches another puzzle piece to the jigsaw. “About your father, I mean.”

“Ah…not really.” Teruya admits. He can feel the disappointment weighing down on his shoulders. “I saw him sitting at a desk, but I couldn’t even remember what he looked like. But I did feel…happy and comforted when I saw him. And yet…I feel as though my heart is broken in two.”

“Sounds like something complicated happened between you and your father.” Mikado points out. Teruya shifts in his seat, staring at the puzzle apprehensively. “...Would you like to talk about something else?”

“Please.” Teruya nods and he quickly thinks of a topic. “...What’s it like using magic? You seem to love it a lot.”

“Using magic is exhilarating.” Mikado’s answer was almost instantaneous. He can feel the excitement radiating off of him. “Being able to change nature itself, create objects out of thin air, seeing things that the naked eye cannot…It's a whole different world. Not to mention I get to fly through the air! I wasn’t able to do that back in Japan.”

“Because you would’ve gotten into trouble if people saw you using magic, right?” Teruya said, remembering their conversation yesterday. Mikado nods his head with a sigh, connecting another puzzle piece.

“Yes…As I’ve said before, using magic is not only taxing but also dangerous to reveal. Back in Japan, I had to be careful when and how I should use my magic. But here…I have so much freedom.” Mikado stares at his hand, a giant smile forming on his mask. “There’s no one else around but our classmates and as the Ultimate Wizard, I’m allowed to use my magic to my heart’s content. I was so excited to study more about magic…” He then hangs his head with a sigh. “But alas…Well, I don’t have to explain any further, now do I?”

“Nope. I imagine the killing game put a stop to almost everyone’s plans for Hope’s Peak…” Teruya picks up a few puzzle pieces. A frown slowly forms on his face. “Unless…someone decides to murder…”

“Hopefully not. You’ve been checking on everyone since we got here…No one has been doing anything suspicious, yes?” Mikado tilts his head at him. But Teruya shakes his head.

“Not that I noticed. Nothing has been taken or restocked in the gift shop. At least, nothing suspicious like the tasers. I, uh, check every day.” Teruya clears his throat awkwardly. He can’t help but feel embarrassed for doing something that’s probably considered weird. Even if it felt natural to do so. “It seems Monocrow restocks everything in the gift shop after twenty-four hours.”

“Which means, if someone takes something from the gift shop, you’ll only have until the night time announcement to notice…” Mikado sighs, rubbing his forehead as he picks up another puzzle piece. “Not very useful since people can take things and use them for later. Perhaps if you keep an active record of who takes what, you could bypass that. But getting people to cooperate with that would be impossible, let alone put any sort of surveillance on the gift shop. And then there’s the U-Mart…”

“Yeah, anyone could go in there, too.” Teruya scratches his head. “I don’t think there’s a good way of keeping an eye on the stores, especially by myself. And even if there was only one store, I’d have to camp out there almost twenty-four seven just to catch people coming in and out and make a record of what they buy. Which means I wouldn’t be able to investigate or do anything else the whole day.”

“Hm…” Mikado’s mask frowns as he lifts his finger to his lips. “...I might have an idea, actually.”

“You do?” Teruya raised an eyebrow at that. He puts down a few puzzle pieces, staring at the picture that was slowly coming together.

“I’ll talk to you about it later. I need to make sure I won’t be breaking any rules before committing to my idea.” Mikado said, attaching another puzzle piece to the jigsaw. “If it goes through, I’ll update you during our lesson tomorrow. Alright?”

“Okay.” Teruya’s fingers brush against his goggles. Its cool, worn surface made his heart calm down, even when there’s a pang of hurt behind it as well. He then huffs upon realizing something. “...Geez, how did we get to talking about preventing possible murders when we’re supposed to be relaxing?”

“Oops. Well, it happens when you get carried away onto another topic.” Mikado rubs the back of his head with an awkward frown. But the mask quickly cheers back up. “How about we move onto a lighter topic…like, what did you do this morning? You and Iroha seemed to have hit it off well.”

“Oh, we have! She’s been trying to teach me how to draw and we’ve also been talking about rainbows…”

“Hahaha, what is with your obsession with rainbows? It's a strange interest.” Mikado chuckles and Teruya huffs, swatting his shoulder.

“Because rainbows are awesome.” Teruya then points at the sun emblem clasp that keeps Mikado’s cape together. “It’s not like you don’t have a motif either. You seem to really like the sun.”

“Oh ho, on the contrary, I love all sorts of celestial symbols. Moons, suns, stars…They’re connected to the wonders of magic.” Mikado smiles gleefully and Teruya feels himself smile back.

The two of them spent the rest of their time together, talking, teasing each other and putting together the puzzle before them. Teruya talked about his time with Iroha and the other students, his exploration of the island with those students, and the strange gifts he would find in the stores. Mikado would add in his own commentary, but he didn’t have many stories to share himself. Despite working hard in researching ways to get out of the killing game, he hasn’t interacted with the other students unless he absolutely had to. Teruya wanted him to make a few connections with his fellow students. But he also didn’t want to force him to socialize when he didn’t want to.

He’ll just have to come up with a plan later.

Teruya sets the final puzzle piece into place, completing the image of the jigsaw puzzle.

It was a beautiful image, made of blue and black. Pretty lights washed the forest with a glow, and trees without leaves pointed towards the dark sky. The flow of stars reached the ground and further and further up until it can no longer be seen on the jigsaw puzzle.

“It’s a really lovely picture.” Teruya said, if only because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Mikado nods his head.

“I’ll be sure to give you another jigsaw puzzle to solve on your own later.” Mikado replied. His hand carefully runs over the picture. Teruya can’t help but take out his handbook so he can take a picture of it. Once he did, the wizard pulled the box over and moved the completed picture back to where it belonged with the help of his magic. “So, about your assignment…”

“Right. What is it?” Teruya gets up from his seat. Mikado puts the box away in his cape and stands up as well.

“Well, I came up with a ‘case’ for you to solve on your own.” Mikado starts and Teruya tenses a little. He gently pats his shoulder. “Like I said, you don’t have to start it tonight. But if you do decide to take a look, just open the document I will send over via the e-handbook.”

“Alright…I’ll see if I’m in a better mood later, then.” Teruya still felt a little stressed, despite taking a break with Mikado. Maybe he should relax in his room for a while. It would help with his fatigue. “I’ll be going then.”

“Wait.” Mikado raises his hand. Teruya stops in his tracks. “Let me go grab your gift. It might help you relax.”

“Oh, sure.” Teruya nods his head and the wizard disappears in a flash of fire. After only a minute of waiting, Mikado returns with a small object. He barely had to take a look at it to realize that it was a candle with a black cap over it and was purple to match the scent labeled on it. “A…lavender scented candle?”

“I used to come across these candles a lot while working. A…friend used to use these a lot.” Mikado admits, staring down at the candle in his hand. His mask even looked a little…sad. And not in its exaggerated teary expression. But he keeps talking before Teruya could ask if he’s okay. “The scent is quite comforting and has a calming and relaxing effect. If you light it by your bedside, it will help reduce anxiety, manage insomnia…and even help those with memory issues.”

“Wow, how thoughtful.” The tease was light, but the words were genuine. Teruya wasn’t expecting the candle to fix all of his memories. That would be one hell of a miracle if it did. But highly unlikely. Still, he appreciated the gift as Mikado clearly wanted to help him with his health. “I’ll be sure to use it tonight…But, a friend?”

“...We’re no longer friends.” Mikado said, looking away. Teruya mutters a small ‘oh’ before the wizard shakes his head. “But it’s alright. As long as you enjoy the aromatic smell, I will be happy with that.” 

“Okay…Thank you.” Teruya carefully puts the candle away in his bag. Maybe he should use it while he relaxes for the afternoon. “I’ll see you later then?”

“Yes. I’ll see you at dinner.” Mikado then disappears from the library.

Teruya yawns, his fatigue weighing down on him.

He’s been working very hard or socializing a lot these past few days.

Maybe he deserves to have a break in his room for a while.

Your relationship rank with Mikado Sannoji has risen from 3 to 4!

Mikado Sannoji’s information has been recorded in the e-Handbook+’s profile page.

[countrymusiclover]

70 - Fighting the Magical Border

Part 71

Gemini Runaway

Tag list ask to be added @icefrye19 @secretdreamlandmentality

3 years later

Sitting on my bed while the girls were off with Jacob to get ice cream. Placing my hands on my lap I calmed my mind waving my hand creating a crystal prism in my hands. "Finitus… invidium cala mactus." The crystal glowed in my hand when I got to my feet letting the sunlight bounce off it before creating a figure in front of me with its magic.

"Hello love." A figure of Klaus smiled back at me. He was wearing a gray sweatshirt with his black jacket thrown over it.

Holding the crystal to my chest I squealed like a child. "Holy crap it worked. Uh hi my subconscious version of you."

"How did you manage this, Raelyn?" He asked, crossing his arms behind his chest.

"Um basically I found a crystal similar to the moonstone. And I combined a subconscious and vision spell together so that I can talk to my subconscious version of you. Now that I say it out loud it sounds crazy." Running my fingers through my hair I sighed, feeling embarrassed.

Nik walked closer with our eyes meeting briefly. "It's not crazy, Rae. Rather impressive."

"You're lying." I snapped.

He shook his head at me. "Do you want me to lie to you?"

"No, never. But…" I didn't have a clue what to say.

Klaus steps closer where I spun around wishing that it was the real him. Not even magic could fix him physically being here. "Tell me what you want and I'll do whatever you want."

"I wish it were that way but you can't give me what I want, Nik." I sniffed feeling some tears falling down my face.

He tilted his head to the side with his baby blues focused on me alone. "Tell me what to do and I will fix it-"

"Nik, I miss you. And I stupidly thought that this would help me while we search for cures for your siblings but it doesn't!" Throwing my hands away from my sides I cried even more spinning around on my feet. "Because I can't live without you, not physically anymore but mentally. I want to tear Marcel apart for separating us like this. I….I miss everything about you and I will do anything to get you back…"

"Raelyn!" Someone else called my name before I saw Jo come into the apartment.

Waving the crystal over the sunshine in the window hologram Klaus disappeared. "Hey , uh hey Jo." I sniffed, wiping away tears as quickly as possible.

"Is everything okay here? Rae, what have you got there?" She sat down with a bag from her day at work with the hospital. Her gaze noticed me holding a crystal behind my back.

Kicking the carpet with my foot I avoided her gaze. "I may have made a magical prism so I could talk to my subconscious version of my husband because I am going crazy without him.."

“Oh Rae Rae.” She made a disappointed look.

Slumping down on the bed I put my face in my hands sighing heavily under my breath. “I know, I’m pathetically insane. But we’ve never been separated this long before. I …I don’t know how to deal with it. And I thought seeing him would give me hope. But I just miss the hell out of him!”

“Raelyn, you might be going through some sort of grief.”

“He’s not gone, Josette!” I snapped at her revealing my fangs with more tears coming down my face. “He’s alive with that monster and I can’t go save him until I find cures. I…I have never felt alone like this even though I have my daughters, friends, you and Jacob. Yet even with that I don’t feel better. I…”

She pulled me in for a hug running a hand through my hair letting me cry. “Sssh Raelyn. I’m here. How about this. I can tell you about my date with this hot teacher at the college. So we had fun but when we were back at the hospital he tried to compel me.”

“Compel as in a vampire?” I raised my head, sending her a questionable look.

She nodded, removing her hands from my shoulders. “Clearly a newbie vampire.”

“What does he look like cause I’d like to meet the guy who thinks he can compel witches.” I laughed at whoever thought they could beat a witch, actually an ex witch.

Jo rolled her shoulders thinking back. “Sandy brown hair and blue eyes. He said his name was Ric.”

“Ric?” I asked her sternly where she nodded her head, yes that I was right. Jumping up to my feet I shoved the door open, almost breaking it. “As in Alaric Saltzman!”

She got to her feet not understanding what was making me angry. “Rae, wait. What’s wrong and how do you know Ric?”

“He was sent to kill my husband by my husband’s crazy mother. He made me think the love of my life was dead. So now I am going to kill him!” Whipping my head around I smirked at her. “You can beg for his life if you want. But I am going to see him.”

Jo gasped, grabbing her car keys following me out the door. “I’ll drive there.” Jo and I entered the college standing outside his classroom but I was using the invisible spell waiting for the right moment.

He came out of his classroom clearly in a rush until we got there. “What's the rush? Occult studies emergency?” She asked him arms over her chest.

“Yeah, I have someplace I need to be so if you don't mind.” He tries to pass her but she blocks his way

Jo scoffed at him. “Why don't you just compel me out of the way.”

“Jo, I can explain - ah! What the hell” I cut him off, throwing him magically against the wall holding him there.

Opening my eyes I smirked up at him sticking to the wall. Clutching my right hand into a fist he winced when I revealed my fangs to him. “How about you tell her how you are a crazy murderous vampire who attempted to kill my lover. So she can understand why I am about to tear you limb from limb!”

“Rae, how do you have magic as a vampire?” Alaric grunted trying to break from the spell.

Smirking up at him I drop him onto the ground only to raise him in the air with magic again. “Ascendo! I’m a Gemini witch, yes. But I wasn’t born with magic, remember. So she. I turned now I’m your worst nightmare!”

“Look don't you think it's about time we level with each other.” Jo moved to stand beside me putting a hand on my shoulder. “My cousin has every right to be angry with you but I care about you so if you apologize then she agreed to not end you.”

Rolling my eyes at her I corrected her statement. “Technically he’s dead. But I can magic your ass over the anti border without blinking.”

“Ahhh! Okay I’m sorry…even though I wasn’t in control of myself, I’m sorry.” He gasped once I released him onto the wooden floor.

Jo offered him her hand, helping him to stand asking in a less stern tone. “Now what exactly was so important that you needed to get to?”

“Okay how's this, my best friend, he just came back from the dear but now I have to save him from a vampire hunter before he is driven across an antimagic border and killed again so here's some friendly advice.” Alairc explained moving around the two of us. “It's probably a good idea to stay as far away from me as possible.”

Watching him leave I crossed my arms over my chest. “He’s literally going to die permanently because of Damon Salvatore.”

“Wait Raelyn. We have to save him.” My cousin sent me a sympathetic glance. “I bet that you don’t like him but can you do it for me?”

Slumping my shoulders I caved knowing that I wouldn’t hurt her feelings ever. She was the only family member I cared about after all. “Huh alright let’s go save the former vampire hunter.”

“He was a vampire hunter before he turned.” She sounded interested as we rushed to the car.

“Seriously, after we save him please make him tell everything.” Pulling out my phone I dialed my brother. “Jacob, don’t go back to Jo’s place. I need you to bring the girls to the Mystic Falls border. We’re heeding their now.”

He asked through the phone. “What are you doing going there?”

“Off to save our cousin's romantic partner Alaric Saltzman. Just do what I say please.” I hung up the phone before Jo slammed on the gas and we rushed to the border. Slamming my door shut I gasped stopping at the edge. Two vehicles were knocked over and Alaric was laying on the grass bleeding out.

Jo grabbed her medical bag calling out to me over her shoulder bolting across the border with no problem. “What are you waiting for?”

“If I cross over it takes away the magic making me a vampire. I’ll die!” I shouted back hearing tires shriek on the road before I saw my brother get out of the car with Cami and the kids.

Hayley and three year old Andrea were driving back with one of the cures for the originals. But we had two more to go before we could get Klaus back. “Rae, what are we waiting for?” Cami asked about stepping over.

“You cross and you die.” Yanking the blonde back by her forearm I turned around to my daughters. “Girls, mommy and uncle J need your help.”

Alina, Missy and Hope ran forward. Alina had her hair up in a braid. Hope left her loose and Missy had it in a ponytail. Jacob looked at his six year old nieces then me. “So what do we do to help Alaric not die?”

Using my vampire hearing I watched Stefan limp over to the other truck that had his brother inside. But he was bleeding from where he died. “Jo’s helping him. We have to help Stefan get his brother across the border. We’ll briefly siphon the magic away so they don’t die.”

“Okay…uh like this?” Jacob placed his hands on the barrier and I followed his actions.

“Alina, Missy help us. Hope, cross over and help Jo.” I instructed my daughters so the two other siphons put their hands like ours and we watched their hands turn red. “Magia tollux de terras.”

“On it mom.” Hope crosses the border where she winced feeling it strike her magic but she keeps running towards Jo.

Alaric was couching up blood laying on his back. “You have to get me across the border. It's stripping away the magic. I'll die.”

Jo tore something from her medical bag. “You'll die if I move you. I have to stop the bleeding, you nicked your descending aorta.”

Alaric gasped. “I know, that's what killed me.”

Hope plopped down at her side seeing him bleeding. “Hey Jo, what can I do?”

“Hand me that pack.” She told her quickly.

Hope gave it to her watching her begin to tear it open with her mouth. “And you didn't have me back then did you and you didn't have hemostatic gauze.” She covered the wound with her hand and the gauze.

Cami gasped watching Jaocb and I keep chanting seeing Stefan limping towards the border with the spell still hurting them but they weren’t dead just yet. “Guys, you better hurry!” She hollers to the vampires on the other side.

“Ah crap!” I moaned seeing drops of blood staining my shoes meaning the spell was trying to kill us. “Jacob, let go!”

He shook his head coughing up some blood of his own. “No way…they’re coming.” Moving my gaze up, Stefan was still limping towards us. Damon and the other vampire collapsed onto our side gasping for air.

“Alaric? Hang on! Stay with me. Come on.” Jo starts pumping on his chest.” Gonna get that heart pumping. You don't get to have the last word with me. Alaric!”

Removing our hands from the barrier I gasped in relief feeling better until Missy tugged my arm pointing towards her sister and Jo. “Mommy!”

“God no.” Covering my mouth with my hands I heard Cami sob. Damon, still on the ground, rips his hands free from the chains and looks toward Mystic Falls, his eyes wide.

Jo continues pumping on Alaric's chest refusing to give up. “Stay with me! come on!” Suddenly Alaric's head snaps up, his eyes open and he gasps for air.

On the Ground, Alaric looks around confused and shaken. “So-so-something's wrong.”

“Don’t move, Ricky.” Hope warmed him by touching his cheek.

Alaric moved his hand to his chest still confused on how he wasn’t dead. “No, something's wrong. I'm not supposed to be alive.”

Jo put her hand to his face, calming the now human him down. “There's no reason you shouldn't be. I sealed the wound we just have to get you to the hospital.” The ambulance came and she waited before getting in the back.

“Go with him. We’re good from here.” I told her seeing she was waiting for me. “Just don’t be angry I’ve been hiding blood bags at your place.”

Alina came over to me once they drove off and I watched silently before she said something taking my attention away from them. “What happens to him now?”

“Now he gets to live his life as a human again. Come on, it's late. Let’s get you all to bed.” Picking her up in my arms she laid her head on my shoulder lifting her gaze up to the full moon in the sky.

Comments really appreciated ❤️