#want to swing around the city? we can go at high speed to dry your tears

[stevebabey]

aw sorry you’re having a crap day. but imagine peter realizing you’re having a bad day so he takes you to his favorite spot in the city. he takes you to a small roof top of an office building where you get the perfect view of the new york skyline (think post cards) and you two sit there for hours looking at buildings, listening to music, and talking to each other about everything.

i’m late to answering this what did you expect but still sorry!! & thank u for ur nice as message my good bitch :’) 

peter definitely does this and it’s a tradition between you guys now because if one of you is sad, then you can go be sad together. but it probably started from something dumb like peter saying, “want to swing around the city? we can go at high speed to dry your tears” trying to be funny and cute and cheer you up and you were like, “actually, that’s not a bad idea” and now you have little spots on different rooftops & places only he can reach and the tradition keeps evolving to swinging by to grab candy on the way and then bringing some headphones too and basically by now you and peter have entire picnics on rooftops whenever one of you is sad (or whenever peter calls for it, he rlly loves those picnics)

[nuttynutcycle]

I just discovered your blog, and I'm in LOVE with your writing! I'm completely obsessed with Familiar, so if it's not to much to ask, could you write a continuation? Thank you so much, your snippets and prompts are greatly appreciated!!

Familiar - Pt 2

First part here

On a scale of one to ten, this was either a -2 or a 12 on the good idea scale. Hero double-checked the address Villain had sent her before looking back at the tiny house. The paint was peeling, steps were rotting and that roof was definitely of the leaking sort. Somehow, she had expected Villain to live on the rich side of town.

When he had invited her over to work on their assignment, her thoughts had been torn between screaming trap and find some evidence. The second side won. If there wasn’t anything in there to prove who Villain really was… Well, she’d have to find another way of getting proof to show the authorities. She knocked and noted the cracked windows to her side. After a few seconds, Villain opened the door.

“Hey, I’m glad you could make it. Come on in.” He led her down the musty hall towards a suspiciously normal bedroom. “Thanks again for making the trek all the way over here. My mom hasn’t been doing too well recently, and I’m trying not to leave her alone for too long.”

“Of course, I get it.” Hero let her eyes trail over the spartan room. The only furniture was a bed and two chairs beside a fold-up table covered with books and scribblers. Funny, the number of times Villain escaped from her with stolen cash made her think he’d at least have better furniture. Or a safe to put the money in. Maybe it was hiding in the closet? Although in this neighbourhood, keeping money lying around might not be the brightest idea. “It’s good that you’re taking care of her.”

He nodded, avoiding her gaze and moving his stuff from the table to the floor. “Hopefully, this next surgery will be the one that works.”

“Yeah, it’s tough watching people you love go through painful things. My sister has a heart problem right now, and it’s terrifying to watch her energy come and go.” Shut up! Stop telling him personal things. “Yeah.” She finished lamely.

Their gazes locked in understanding. Hero was the first to break away. “Ready to start the pain?”

They worked on the assignment in silence for a while. Honestly, there was probably a special punishment designed for whoever invented assignments over ten pages long. This just wasn’t fair. Hero sat back, running a hand through her hair. “I think this is karma's way of punishing me for not reading the textbook.”

His lips quirked. “There’s a textbook for this class? That would’ve been helpful to know at the start of the semester.”

“Want to know how tired I was at the beginning of the semester? I can’t even remember choosing my classes,” she pulled a hand down her face. “I think I just closed my eyes and pointed at the screen.”

“You could have been in differential calculus. Or worse, accounting.”

“Or Phys Ed. Did you know our university has a course devoted to badminton?”

Villain laughed. “What a racket. To think, I could have spent time swinging my arm around and gotten credit for it.”

“But then you’d be missing out on the glories of this assignment.”

“And a friend.”

Oh nope. Big nope. Wait, Hero reconsidered. Were they friends?  They did chat after class and had studied a few times together, but that didn’t mean- wait. Huh. Time to deflect with awkward humour and process these feelings later. “I thought you saw me as a role model, but that’s cool too. I’ll just have to find a new lackey.”

“And here I thought you were friends with me for my brilliance and good looks.”

She felt her cheeks begin to burn. “Yep, it’s all for your looks. If you seduce our professor, then we don’t have to do this assignment anymore.”

Villain rubbed his chin. “I’ve never seduced a professor before. Would I have to wear a sweater vest?”

“And a tweed jacket. It’s the only way.” Her fingers twitched, and she was suddenly very aware of him. The light hitting his hair, the way his lips curled when he was amused… Bad, very bad. This is your official ABORT MISSION alert. Find some evidence on the dangerous criminal and get out of there. She cleared her throat. “I’m parched. Could I get some water?”

Villain nodded, standing and leaving the room. Hero leapt out of the chair the moment the door shut behind him.  Her eyes latched on the only place one could hide anything in the sparse room - the closet. She yanked it open, feeling her heart speed up at the sound of Villain opening a cupboard in the kitchen and turning on the tap.

The closet was small and impressively dull. Clothes and boxes littered the tiny  shelves, with no signs of the files or weapons she was looking for. A flap of a familiar fabric dangling from one of the top boxes caught her eye. Bingo. Hero gingerly reached to feel the consistency, making sure she wasn’t wrong before bringing the authorities in, and accidentally bumped an elbow against the side of the closet. The box plummeted from its precarious placement and met the ground with a thump. No! She scrambled to pick up the box and the spilled-out uniform when a movement behind made her pause.

Villain stood in the doorway, hand clenched around a glass of water. His eyes darted to the clothes on the ground. “What are you doing?” he asked quietly.

Hero’s throat went dry. She tightened her grip on the clothes and tried to look surprised. “S-something fell in your closet, so I opened it to check what it was.”

“Huh,” Villain said. “That’s unfortunate.”

He knelt, gently taking his outfit from her hands and placing it back in the box. “You weren’t supposed to see this.”

“Clearly.”  Hero swallowed and prepared to run if he attacked. Worst case scenario, she had beat him before and could do it again. Theoretically. “I didn’t mean to-“

“I know.” A familiar calculation crept across his face, making her hands shake. Villain sat across from her and blocked the only exit, placing the cup of water between them. She felt trapped against the closet.

“You know, if this had happened a month ago, I would have killed you without a second thought,” he said mildly. “Guess you’re lucky.”

A horrifying reminder that she was not dealing with her awkward classmate anymore. “What are you going to do instead?”

Villain shrugged, seeming far too calm for the situation. “I don’t know yet. Talk, I guess?”

“I won’t tell anyone.” Hero said, lying through her teeth.

“Unfortunately, I’m too old to believe the promises of others so easily.” He trailed his fingers through the thin carpet, tracing patterns through the material. “Even yours. The stakes are just too high.”

“What’s even worth all the stealing and destruction?” she asked quietly. “Why do you do it? “

The  fingers paused. “It started out as one job. My mom needed treatment, and we didn’t have the money to pay for it. Then one treatment turned into two.” He shook his head. “Before I knew it, I was on the city’s most-wanted list.”

Her shoulders tensed. “Will you stop when the treatments are finished?”

“There have been other benefits to criminal activity.” Villain ducked his head, cheeks turning pink. “Lots of amazing people to meet. I haven’t decided yet.”

She leaned against the wall beside the closet, feeling safer with something solid against her back. “I don’t know if meeting people through crime is worth a lifetime in jail.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “You’d be surprised.”

Hero picked up the forgotten water sitting between them and drank, if nothing else than for the excuse to avoid responding.

His fingers trailed larger patterns in the carpet. “I never wanted you to find out- this is one of the first friendships I’ve made since I started university. I don’t want to lose that. And I don’t want you getting hurt, but this does put me in a tight position. I won’t let you inform the authorities.”

Hero pressed her back further against the wall.

Villain took one look at her wide eyes and softened his tone. “Just don’t tell. If I get one inkling that you’re about to turn me in, then..." he sighed. "Please don’t make me choose between you and my mom.”

He would know it was her. Hero didn’t think she could after this. Or fight him, knowing it was for his mom’s medical bills. She pursed her lips, making a highly regrettable split-second decision. “Alright. But only on one condition: you stop once her treatments are done.”

He twitched. “I told you, I haven’t decided yet-”

“I’m making the decision for you.” She tried to sound more confident than she felt. "Deals are much easier to trust than promises.”

“No. I’d miss-” Villain stopped, clenching his jaw. “I can’t let certain people from that life go yet.”

Something clicked. The girl he liked was from his criminal life… Oh gosh, Hero probably knew her. The brunette villain from the southside? The redheaded weapons supplier? Stop getting distracted.

“I trust you. Give it up as soon as you can.” The words slipped out before she could stop them. “For me.” That was even worse. Was it possible to die from a foot in your mouth?

Villain relaxed his shoulders. “Yeah. It’s a deal.” He stuck out a hand and Hero grasped it, shaking firmly and ignoring the sinking feeling in her chest. So like, a 5 on the good idea scale.

@revrevrew-personal @spruceandpine @sailor-cat2 @literally-just-kirby @emerqlds @chaoticgoodandu @notsocharmingmagician @flying-paperboat @touchedbyanerdyotaku

[dontaskmetodivide]

HIII I was wondering if you could do a one shot smut thing of Y/N and H getting high at a party and then like you sneak away and have a rough quicke? No pressure

based off this ask!! i most certainly can do this, hope you enjoy. i totally got carried away with the weed parts, but i couldn’t help it. i love writing bad ass girl characters who know what the hell they’re doing when it comes to smoking lol. 

tw: smut, posessive shit ig, yeah thats it, idk how to do tw

Harry’s tight grip on your hand is the only thing keeping you balanced as people on the make-shift dance floor are being knocked into you from every direction. Niall’s house party had definitely gone a little overboard, but you’re still enjoying yourself even if the night had only just begun.

The room smells of sweat and alcohol and you can almost see the condensation on the expensively decorated walls from all the bodies crowding the place. Colored strobe lights are the only thing illuminating the expensive penthouse living room and the bass from the speakers can be felt through the floor and up your feet. 

Harry doesn’t enjoy these parties as much as you, and while you were both homebodies at heart, you really did enjoy just letting loose and having fun once every now and then. 

You knock into your boyfriend’s body as he abruptly stops to slide open the balcony door. You had only just arrived and said hello to a few guests, stopping at the bar top after Niall begged to do group shots, before Harry was trying to escape the crowded living space. 

As he pulls you onto the balcony over looking the Colorado city below, the cool night air hits your skin and it feels like you can sigh of relief, finally getting a chance to air the sweat off your body that had so quickly accumulated. 

“Styles!” You hear to your left, both you and Harry turning your heads to see Liam and Zayn, as well as another party goer you hadn’t met before, sitting around a glass top table with a few ashtrays on top. “I told you he’d show.” Liam smacks Zayn’s shoulder who is puffing a blunt between his lips, not paying attention to Liam. 

Harry leads you to the table, sitting in a chair first before pulling you sideways onto his lap, lingering his hands on your thighs. “In the flesh.” Harry announces his entrance with a forced smile. 

Liam flicks his lighter on the dull end of his joint, rekindling the flame, and then tosses it to Harry, who catches it amazingly in one hand. You lace your arm around his neck and connect your hands on the side of his shoulder, hanging onto him like a koala bear. The contact causes Harry to lean forward and press a quick kiss to your cheek, almost out of reflex, before reaching into his front pocket of his very loosely buttoned shirt. 

He pulls out a joint and brings it to his mouth, letting it hang between his lips while he cups the flame from the lighter in his hands and brings it to the end of the joint. He lights it and lets a the first puff of smoke leave his mouth before he inhales a deep breath, the cherry butt lighting up brighter, and then he’s blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth after holding it for a second. 

The other boys at the table have already drifted into their own conversation, so it feels quite peaceful between you and Harry at the moment.

One of your favorite things to do with Harry on special occasions is smoke. Well, smoke and then fuck. You both are the kind to get super turned on when you’re high and it works perfectly for nights when you both just want to relax and spend time together. You never do it too often, neither of you wanting to rely on drugs or sex for any parts of the relationship, but it is definitely a sweet treat when the occasion arises. 

He repeats his movements from before, inhaling the smoke, holding it and exhaling it, keeping his eyes focused on his hands as he taps a small amount of ash off the end of it and onto the concrete patio flooring. 

To hell with the three ashtrays on the table, right?

His eyes flick up to yours, silently asking if you want some so you nod. He watches the joint as he places it between your lips, your two finger instinctively coming up to grasp the joint from him. As you puff on the joint, Harry’s olive green eyes trace over your face, repeatedly landing on your eyes and lips. 

You take it out of your mouth, jumping at the chance to attach your lips to his, not wanting to wait any longer to kiss him. He inhales the smoke for your lungs, quite literally taking your breath away, and when he pulls back to release the smoke, tilting his head straight up to the sky, you can’t help but let your mind wander as your eyes trace over his feeble neck. 

“Tha’s supposed to be my move.” He says as he looks back at you with a grin, but you just shrug and smile softly. 

“Sue me.” You tell him under your breath and you can’t help your eyes going back to his lips. 

“You wanna go-” Harry starts saying quietly, inching your faces closer before he gets unknowingly interrupted. 

“So Styles,” The man that I do not know starts saying, which makes Harry clench his jaw as he turns his attention to the cock block. “How’d your bet go on that game the other night?”

The conversation steers straight to sports topics, and you begin to find your only entertainment in the weed on the table, you and Harry quickly finishing the previously rolled joint. You turn your back to Harry so you can face the table, making sure to swivel your hips in just the right place to tease him, which has him harshly gripping your hip as he tries to remain focused on the conversation at hand. 

You take your time as you roll a blunt with the supplies on the table, trying your best to keep it all together in one piece. Harry always makes fun of your scrawny blunts, but you’ve been getting a lot better at rolling, especially with his help. 

You follow all the steps to curate the best blunt you can, focusing so intently that the conversation in the background has drowned out. You unpack a swisher sweet, unroll it, empty most of the tobacco, grind up the weed on hand, pepper it into the tobacco paper, and finish it by licking the seal shut, slightly crisping it with your lighter. 

Once you’re finished and your astonishing masterpiece is complete, you lean back on Harry’s chest, exhaling with relief. He wraps his arm around your stomach while still keeping his attention on whatever they’re speaking about, even though Harry is barely talking. 

You hold up your freshly rolled blunt in his eye line, forcing him to give you attention. “Tell me that’s not the best blunt I’ve ever rolled.” You snicker while twirling the thin stick in your finger tips. 

He hums in response, the sound going straight into your ears from his chest since you’re pressed so close together. “Beautiful craftsmanship.” He applauds as he raises one of his hands to take the blunt from you and inspect it more closely. You drop your hands to your chest, reaching in front of you to grab a lighter from the table. “I’d say you have one hell of a teacher.”

You sit up and shuffle around to be sat sideways on his lap again to share the joint. You enjoy the blunt in comfortable silence this time, just taking in each other’s motions and movements while passing it back and forth. You can tell you’re both way more high than before you smoked this one, but it’s only adding to the intensity between you two. 

Harry has excused himself from the conversation at this point and by the time the blunt is finished you get back around to what Harry was going to ask before he was interrupted. “How about I take you inside,” He says as he lightly traces a piece of hair behind your ear, “And find an empty room,” He leans in and presses his lips to the base of your throat. You put your hands on the back of his neck, holding yourself against him. “An empty room with a lock,” He adds before he kisses your neck once again. You cock your head back, giving him more room to explore. “And fuck your pretty pussy absolutely senseless, yeah?” He says with a gruff tone, finishing his run on sentence staring directly into your eyes. 

Your mouth has gone dry, and while it may be cotton mouth from the weed, you know that it’s really from the effects he has on you. “I think we could make that work.” You whisper back, slipping off Harry’s lap and grabbing his hand as he stands. 

You don’t even bother saying anything to the other guys at the table as Harry walks past you and leads you back inside. The pounding from the speakers turns into ear blisteringly loud music as you enter back into the room. 

Harry moves his hand to your waist, encapsulating you as he leads you to the stairs on the far wall. You feel your heart rate pick up and your breathing speed as you get closer to the array of bedroom doors. 

Your boyfriend’s grip on your waist stays sturdy as he walks to the closest door, spinning you and pining you against it, not even making it through the closed door. Luckily the hallway is empty and mostly quiet, apart from the music, so you aren’t worried about being caught. His breath cascades down your face and his added height on you has you looking up at him through your lashes. 

While you still have the confidence, you push against his chest and flip yourselves around, pining him against the door this time. He smirks, finding your small bravery cute. “Don’t get used to that, doll.” He says lowly into your ear. 

You move your hand to the door knob and twist it open, keeping your eyes on Harry’s, but as the door swings open you hear a high pitched giggle and a man’s voice shouting ‘occupied!’ but it’s too late, cause you’ve already seen the fit couple doogy-styling it up on the bare mattress. 

Harry snaps his head around to look into the room as you stand with wide eyes and a shocked expression, frozen in embarrassment. Once Harry has the slightest glance at what you’re staring at, he whips his head right back around and places his palm over your eyes. You quickly do the same, trying to cover his eyes while not seeing anything and as you get your hand in position, Harry’s body is pushing you forward and slamming the door shut behind him. 

You stand in silence, still covering each other’s eyes as you start to giggle. And the giggle turns into you both full on heaving up laughs while blinding each other outside the door. 

If anyone walked by right now, surely they’d think you two were insane, but neither of you can control your chuckles as you take in what just happened.

“Y/N,” Harry says as your laughs start to subside. “I’m going to remove my hand now, and I want to never speak about what we just saw.” 

You laugh and nod behind his palm. “Agreed.” You say and at that, you both lower your hands to see each other again, which only makes your own giggles release again. 

“I believe we were in the middle of something before our intrusion.” He says as he snakes one of his hands to your waist and you place on of his hands on his chest, stepping slightly closer.

“Now were we?” You play dumb with a coy smile. “You might have to refresh my memory.” You tease and he starts backwards walking to another closed door. 

This time he knocks and you wait in silence for any sign of human life on the other side, your ears pressed very close to the door. After a second more of silence, Harry slowly creaks open the door, peaking in and once confirming that you’re alone, yanking your arm in the door and shutting it behind you, being very sure to lock it. 

Harry’s lips crash against yours and his hands come up to your sides, pulling off the fabric of your top, taking your bra with it, and smoothly yanking his off by the back collar. You fiddle with his pants zipper as he moves his mouth to your neck and starts biting at your collar bone Your breathing increases as you slip your hand into his unbuttoned waist band, rubbing your hand over his cock and squeezing gently. He groans into your mouth before grabbing you by your hips and quite literally throwing you onto the bed like a rag doll. 

He discards his pants as he walks over to you, hovering naked over your clothed center. He kissed between your breasts, and then attacks each nipple while undoing the button on your jeans, a small whine coming from your throat as your hand tangles in his head of hair. He releases your pebbled nipple and kisses your stomach once before ripping your jeans and underwear off your legs and onto the floor.

He waists no time grabbing the backs of your thighs and pressing them against your body, devouring your pussy with no warning. You moan harshly into the air, fisting his curls as he stares up at you through his dark eye lashes. “Harry!” You squeak into the air as he nibbles on your clit before adding a finger to the mix, completely mutilating you within seconds. 

“Harry, fuck.” You moan into the air, squeezing your eyes shut as you already feel a fast approaching orgasm surfacing. You weren’t used to this quick of a pace, but your body adjusts fairly quickly. “Har- Harry if you k-keep that up I’m gonna-”

He abruptly stops his mouth and pulls back from your center, his chin shiny with your arousal. “Don’t cum til I say so, pet. I mean it.” He says with deep conviction in his voice despite the cute name, 

Harry then grabs your hips and rolls you over so that your ass is to him. He yanks on your hips and props them up so that his hips are lined up with yours. Without warning, he’s pushing into you from behind, sinking all the way in, erupting a moan from both of your chests. “Shit, Y/N”

He remains still for a moment, letting you adjust before he’s slowly pulling out and pushing right back in and bottoming out inside you. He gradually picks up the pace until he’s rocking into you with aggression. His hand slides up your back and latches into your hair, pulling your body back to be flush with his chest. 

“Who’s pussy is this?” He growls in your ear as his hips pivot up into you, the new angle reaching a whole new spot inside you. 

“Yours.” You pant out, breathless from the mind-blowing pace he’s managing to keep up. “My pussy’s yours, Harry.” 

“Good.” He rasps as he drops you back down onto the bed and pulling out. 

As you lay still for a second trying to catch your breath, Harry comes and lays right next to you. You twist your brows in confusion, but your questions are answered when he slips his hand under your stomach on top of the mattress and rolls you onto his chest. 

He wraps one arm around your shoulders, keeping the top half of your body locked against his, and he uses the other hand to guide his cock back into you. He props his feet up on the bed for leverage and starts thrusting up into your hips, the sound of your skin slapping together filling the room. Your thighs are hooked onto the outside of his, making you so wide and open for him. 

“Oh, God. Oh my God, Harry.” You whine, resting your head back in the crook of his neck as he wraps one of his arms around your stomach. 

Since the side of your head is pressed so close to his face, his moans and grunts filter straight into your ear, sending tingles down your spine. 

“Being such a good girl fo’ me.” Harry says breathlessly into your ear. “Takin’ my cock so well.” His accent getting thicker as he speaks lowly.

“Feels so good, H.” You whine, turning your face into his neck and sucking on a spot above his throat. “So fucking good.”

He slides his hand up from your stomach to your mouth, sticking two fingers on your tongue and you involuntarily suck on them, lathering them in saliva. 

“Does my little slut wanna cum now?” He asks, slipping his hand from your shoulders to your throat and squeezing at the sides. You nod incessantly in response with his fingers still tangled in his mouth. “Beg.” He taunts you as he drags his coated fingers down your stomach, to your heat, and starts rubbing fast circles on your clit. 

You moan loudly in response. “Please, please Harry. Please let me cum baby.” You beg, itching for your release. You’re practically whining as you beg, your toes curling and thighs startling to tremble. 

“Go on, cum for me darling.” He allows as he continues his assault on your clit, his thrusts getting sharper as he nears his end too.

You finally allow yourself to reach the peak you’d been chasing, your orgasm ripping through your insides. You thighs shake and you grab the sheets with one hand and death grip Harry’s curls behind you with the other hand. Your eyes feel like they’re rolling into the back of your head and the moans of Harry coming with you only spur on the moment. Your back arches as much as possible while still in his hold, and your mouth gapes open. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck, Y/N.” Harry’s grip on your throat absentmindedly tightens and he’s tilting his forehead into the side of your head as his heavy breaths warm your cheek. “Holy shit.”

Harry continues to play with your sensitive nerves as he slows his hip movements to a stop and you both relax your muscles, staggeringly attempting to catch your breath. 

He slowly pulls out from beneath you and you flinch from sensitivity. He scoots over slightly so that he can get out from under you. He’s still panting as he grabs his boxers from the floor, raising them to your heat and wiping at it softly in attempt to clean you up. 

You smile at him, your boyfriend always putting you first, even if it means he has cum stained boxers. 

Once the majority of the mess is cleaned up he plops right back down on the bed next to you, both of you turning to face the other with a small smile. 

“You’re my everything.” He tells you and leans forward, connecting his lips with yours as you both smile at each other. 

a/n; yuh hoped you like it. didn’t know how to end it and i didn’t want it to be some ‘i love you’ bullshit so heres a cringier off brand line to end it. lmk what you think, love you all!

[thaliagrayce]

The suit was brighter than Nico would have liked, but that was far from his biggest concern at the moment. He perched on top of a building near Lycée Sangs-Mêlés, eyes scanning for wherever the akuma had gone. No, the bigger concern was the learning curve that came with using a yo-yo as his primary tool and weapon all rolled into one. Or figuring out how to fight an akuma, or what an akuma was in the first place. Or finding his alleged partner, who was supposed to be helping him take out this monster, somewhere in the city. Most likely, it was finding someone else to take over, someone who was actually qualified to fight monsters in the middle of the street.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. It might have been the akuma, but it might have been something else—

A thunderous roar sounded from the same area. It was Clarisse. Stoneheart. Whatever.

Nico drew his hand back and threw the yo-yo at a convenient outcropping on the restaurant across from him, praying to anyone listening that it would hold and he would be able to swing. Tikki had told him to trust his instincts, but his instincts were behaving a little untrustworthy at the moment.

Fortunately, it hit the outcropping and he was able to swing, just as he’d pictured. Unfortunately, he ran into someone on the upswing, knocking them both onto the balcony level of the restaurant and sending them sprawling. Nico coughed a few times, but felt remarkably little pain from the impact. The suit had worked.

He looked across the balcony at the other person, who was in the process of standing up and wiping the dirt off of his clothes. Costume? It certainly looked like a costume, all black leather and cat ears and a mask to match. There was a leather belt around his waist that must have been way too long, because it dangled behind him almost like a tail. The boy himself was tall and looked fairly built, which—if Nico was right and this was his partner in crime fighting—would help. Nico himself wasn’t very tall, and he’d always been more of a speed-and-agility kind of guy. Having a variety of strengths on the team would be a valuable asset.

The boy finally looked up, and Nico startled. His eyes were shockingly blue—the whole eye, not just the iris. His pupils were slits, too. Whoever this guy’s kwami was, they’d really gone all out. The boy smiled and held out his hand to shake, like that was the normal reaction to running into someone at high speed on the rooftops of Paris.

Maybe it was, actually. Nico had never done it before. He took the hand.

“I take it you’ve got the black cat miraculous?” Nico noticed with a start that the leather belt-tail behind him was twitching a little bit. Could the boy control it?

“How do you know I don’t just dress like this for fun?” The boy’s voice was deeper than Nico’s, and it sounded friendly. His whole demeanor seemed friendly. One of his ears, which looked to be made of leather, twitched. Nico raised one eyebrow in response, though he had no clue if that would show under the mask.

The boy laughed and let go of his hand. He had, objectively, a pretty nice laugh.

“You can call me Chat Noir. Secret identities and all that. What do you want me to call you?”

Nico’s mind went blank. How had Chat come up with a good name on such short notice? Had he thought about this before coming out? Nico looked down at his own costume for inspiration, but it just looked red and black and spotty.

Whatever. Names weren’t important and gender was fake.

“Call me Ladybug. We should find the akuma.”

In the time they had been distracted, Nico had completely lost track of the monster. He would need to get a better view to reorient himself.

He pointed to the roof of the building across the street, readying his yo-yo. “Can you get there on your own?”

“As long as you don’t run into me again,” Chat replied. He sent a smile toward Nico, who had to immediately look away. Maybe Chat had a nice smile as well as a nice laugh. Whatever. Nico launched himself across the street. Once he’d gotten on solid ground, he turned around to see what Chat used to move around. It looked like a vaulter’s pole, but just as Chat was approaching the building, it shrank to the size of a baton.

Too soon, apparently. Chat landed too close to the edge of the building. One of his feet slipped halfway off the edge, and he pinwheeled his arms to regain balance.

“Oh no, oh crap, oh frick!”

He regained his footing, but narrowed his eyes. He seemed to be thinking very hard about something, and for a second, Nico was worried that he was about to be asked why he hadn’t helped.

(He hadn’t helped because it was kind of funny. Plus, they had superpowers. One fall off a two-story building wasn’t going to hurt him too bad, and it would be good training for his reflexes.)

Cautiously, Chat opened his mouth again.

“Fuck.” He pronounced it too carefully, like it was a foreign word, then looked to Nico.

Nico, for his part, couldn’t figure out how he was supposed to react, so he nodded solemnly back. “Fuck,” he agreed.

Chat grinned. Nico noticed with a dry throat that the cat suit had also given Chat sharper teeth. How thoughtful of his kwami.

Before he could think too hard about that, a street-shaking crash sounded from a few blocks away, and the mood—whatever it had been—dissipated.

[moon-lixie]

Change or stay the same - Han Jisung

word count: 4.791k

song: Punching Bag -Wallice

warnings: none, even though there's a bit of angst if you squint your eyes.

Yellow washed over the white walls of the room, soon enough soaking the bed sheets that draped over his body. The morning was eager to greet him, light poking at his eyelids to speed up the process of waking him.

A groan slipped his rosy lips before he moved to nuzzle his face on the fluffy material of the sky colored pillow. He dreaded mornings the most; one of the hardest tasks of the day was trying to rip himself away from his sheets.

His lids grew heavy after a couple minutes, sleep tugging on his arms begging him to drift away and into oblivion. Humming in satisfaction his mind was about to shut down when a loud ringing noise filled the room, it was Changbin’s special ringtone.

“Shit,” he murmured groggily before stretching his arm enough to reach the nightstand without having to move away from his pillow.

Putting the phone right beside his ear the first thing he heard was an oh so sweet Where the fuck are you, Jisung? It’s eight already. Which was soon followed by a string of profanities leaving his own lips, almost seemingly pushing him to move frantically across his room.

“I’ll be there in ten.” Was the last and first thing he said to his friend before hanging up and throwing his phone to his bed.

There was no time for him to take a shower; it’s not like he was planning to take one but he sometimes liked to pretend that he would. He barely brushed his teeth, changed into the first things that popped out of his closet and groaned at his empty refrigerator before finding himself running through the crowded streets.

He wasn’t particularly stressed despite his palms growing clammy at the idea of having to come up with a good excuse for his tardiness; to a certain degree he loved running like a maniac in that big city that seemed to have too many places for him to discover despite having been living there for years now.

A light giggle escaped his lips as he turned around a corner, now meters away from arriving at his destination. Despite his empty stomach and lack of morning coffee, he seemed to have too much energy to spare.

It felt like nothing could stop him until he couldn’t move his feet anymore, the world stopped before his eyes and breath left his lungs. He swore he had seen a familiar face but it had soon disappeared between the crowd; still, just one glimpse of said person had his heart coming to a stop.

“What are you doing?” Filled Jisung’s ears before he blinked back to reality; it was his friend of similar height, head popping out of the entrance door he should’ve crossed earlier.

Quickly shaking his head as he dismissed the question thrown at him, he entered the building and apologized to the older man throwing a curious glance at him.

The ride on the elevator was filled with silence, allowing his head to be filled with questions and worries that now had nothing to do with the task at hand but rather the person he believed to have seen.

Silence finally dissipated when he entered the studio to face a more or less exasperated Chan, he was sometimes too serious when it came to work but Jisung totally understood, one of them had to have the tiniest bit of seriousness or it could turn to chaos.

“I’m so sorry, I—”

“You overslept, we know. Let’s just get to work.” Changbin interrupted before patting his shoulder reassuringly.

A sheepish smile covered his lips before his fingers reached towards the bag that he was supposed to be wearing, the one that had his laptop in it. There went another fuck because he knew he was forgetting something as he left his apartment but was quick to shrug off the thought.

“It’s okay, you can just log in here.” Chan was quick to say without even having to spare him a glance to know what was the problem. He was grateful to have friends who seemed to balance out his clumsiness perfectly fine.

Taking a chair and moving closer to the desk he grabbed the mouse and started clicking away. Second later the monitor eagerly asked him for the password of his email where he happened to have his lyrics noted down. Yes, he used google docs, so what?

He gulped down at the thought of what he was about to type; his password never seemed to represent a problem until today. It was the name of someone he had last seen years ago, five to be exact. He just never saw the need to change it, not when he could type it with his eyes closed or in his sleep; it had been the same since he was in high school and until today he hadn’t minded that it stayed like that.

“Dude, we need to work so hurry up.” That’s right, he needed to hurry and snap out of it. it wasn’t such a big deal, he just needed to type every letter of your name in the specific order he knew by heart and pretend that it hadn't been you on the street just now.

And so he did, typing it as quickly as any other day, pressing enter and getting access to everything he needed along with a million memories stored as videos and pictures.

He cleared his throat before getting to work, he didn’t have the guts to revive his high school days in front of his friends; perhaps not brave enough to revive them at all despite the place or people around him.

Once the three of them were certain that the sun outside was slowly flooding the city with small orange and pink tinges, they exited the building that guarded their creative mess. Each walking their own way, not before throwing one last threat at the youngest in hopes that tomorrow he’d open his eyes at the right hour. Laughing lightly Jisung nodded and walked away, eager to return home.

His landlord had a white cat with some brown spots that somehow added to its cuteness; just like any other day he pet it before quickly scurrying to the elevator and finally walking past three doors before finding himself in front of his apartment door.

When he found himself inside, the first thing he did was take a shower, one that this time he had actually been intending to take. Later sitting on his bed, towel still tousling his hair in attempts to dry it, his laptop found its way to his lap.

His fingers didn’t hesitate much before clicking on the right places that took him to those videos and pictures that brought him joy every single time. Biting on his bottom lip he finally allowed the towel to rest on his shoulder and pressed play.

The video revealed his freckled friend whose laugh could light up the whole world, he did something silly as usual before Seungmin popped up a little far away. In the middle of a park, they found themselves atop lush grass that welcomed their feet happily as they fooled around.

After some time filming the two boys the camera moved towards some swings where you sat, expression all too dull for the situation that you were in. That was it, the video cut there and the memories would finish at that moment if he didn’t clearly remember what happened next.

He had stopped recording, closing the small screen of the video camera before walking towards you, a worried expression taking hold of his features. Once close enough he sat on the swing next to yours, feet kicking the soil softly.

“I don’t want to leave this place,” you had mumbled by his side, catching him off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you thought about what will happen to us when we go to college. It’s months away and I’m terrified of leaving.” A heavy sigh escaped your lips, pupils moving to catch his gaze.

Next time you opened your mouth, the tone with which you spoke was way quieter as if you were scared of saying such things. “I wish I could stay here forever, with you guys, just being silly and worrying about nothing.”

Reaching his hand to grab yours he ended up intertwining his fingers with yours before sighing and smiling sweetly. “Nothing is going to change, we’ll keep being together. Trust in me, we’ll make it through.”

You had smiled brightly after he spoke, blindly believing in his words that ended up not becoming true. Soon after everyone parted away to college the distance had done its job at making communication difficult, a text a day turned into one every week, quickly it had been one a month and then nothing but each other’s contacts saved on your phones.

Living kilometers away everyone kept moving on with their lives not really knowing much about each other. The only thing that he now was aware of was about his own story, how he had met Chan and Changbin in college and their common interest and ambition had brought them to work together in what they loved.

Quickly closing his laptop and leaving it on his night stand he plopped himself down on his face. Seconds after reaching for his phone and looking for your contact.

His breath hitched once it appeared on his screen, all too familiar but quite foreign by now. He had stopped himself from calling you many times; when he was sober he convinced himself that you wouldn’t want to talk to him after he lied to you that one evening, when drunk he decided that you deserved better than a Jisung that made no sense and slurred all his words.

Nevertheless, he always thought of you like how one thinks about their first love that never happened, because that was the case. Your reckless mixed with your amazing sense of responsibility —that he had always admired— still haunted him at night along with your melodious laugh.

Finally deciding that it was now or never he pressed on your contact and pressed his phone to his ear, dying slowly at every loud beep that separated him from your voice. Without notice the line went silent for a moment before a strange voice spoke a soft hello?, it wasn’t you.

“Is y/n there?”

“No, I’m sorry. I think you have the wrong number.”

He thanked the stranger, trying not to sound utterly disappointed before hanging up and throwing his phone towards his pillow and sighing in defeat. It had never occurred to him that you could’ve changed your number in the past five years but it made sense.

It wasn’t the end of the world, he could later call Felix and ask him for your number —because Jisung was certain he would have it— but that could be left for when he ate something and felt less nervous.

Walking to his kitchen it suddenly popped in his mind, his refrigerator was empty and that meant no food he could simply stuff in his mouth. He cursed for the nth time that day.

“It’s okay, I’ll just go buy something to eat and then get some groceries on the weekend,” he said to no one in particular before getting dressed again and going out to wander around the city until he found a place that sold something edible, that would suffice.

On one particular street where he had to wait for the traffic light to change his heart came to a stop because this time he didn't see you but rather heard your voice calling his name, and upon turning around there you were, just like he remembered.

A hello meant to escape his lips but it got stuck on his throat when you smiled at him warmly; he loved you as much as that eighteen year old him that would do anything for you.

Without thinking much he hugged you tightly; you were quick to return his hug, convincing him that it would be the biggest mistake in the world to pull away soon. People walked past the both of you, some huffing in annoyance as you were in fact obstructing the street but for all that he cared everyone could go and fuck themselves.

When he finally broke away the hug some words came tumbling down of his mouth before he got the chance to think about them, “I was going to grab something to eat, want to come with me?”

The words surely took you by surprise as confusion plastered in your face for a second, but you nevertheless accepted his offer.

“So...what are you doing here?” he asked as both crossed the street, Jisung no longer wandering without a destination.

“I live here.” He threw you a confused look that couldn’t mean anything more than a since when? that seemed to amuse you greatly as you laughed for a second before answering. “I moved not far from here three months ago, for work.”

Nodding lightly he kept walking, silence moving at a fast pace to catch up with your moving figures on the street, but it was futile as you spoke up once again.

“It’s silly but— ”

“It’s not,” he retorted before an unknown force tugged at the corners of his lips with force, refusing to let his smile falter.

“—I had been wondering when we would end up stumbling with each other.”

Those simple words made his heart beat at a faster pace, aggressively thumping against his chest. After all this time you still had his existence present in your mind, not seeming to forget how he always talked about moving here once he was old enough when he was just a child.

“Well, I’m glad that we finally did.” A coward, that’s how he should call himself from now on as the words refused to slip past his lips. He should tell you that he had tried to call you, that he had also been wanting to see you, but he couldn’t.

Jisung had decided to bring you to a small dinner that was not only cheap but delicious; he smiled way too widely once you asked for the same you used to have and you questioned him with your eyes when he asked for coffee, he used to not be able to stand the bitter taste.

Hours passed as you both caught up with each other, apparently you still spoke often with Felix —which he already suspected all along— and had only recently decided to move out from the apartment you still shared with your college roommates, ending up in that lovely city by chance.

His eyes scanned every single centimetre of yours, the small dimple that formed on your right cheek everytime you chewed, the way your faint and discreet lip gloss had turned into a more lively lip tint, the ever so faint eye bags under your eyes that seemed to distinguish people your age.

“God, then Felix fell to that fountain, right?”

He snickered loudly before nodding in affirmation. “He had to walk all the way home completely soaked. He wouldn't stop complaining.”

The laugh that escaped your throat seemed almost nostalgic; it had been quite a while.

When you both crossed the door on your way out the only light covering the streets were those of the streetlights and some cars stuck in traffic. He offered to walk you back home and you immediately nodded in approval of his proposition.

In the blink of an eye he had turned to the high school Jisung that would walk slightly behind you, secretly wanting to reach out for your hand and intertwined his fingers without you, but not even now did he have the courage.

The walk seemed to be awfully short, perhaps because he didn’t want to leave you yet. You got your keys out and stood in front of your door but still facing him as if waiting for something.

“You changed your number.” Was the first thing he could think of saying to what you sighed awkwardly and answered him a quick I did.

“I would love to get something to eat with you again or just talk for a while. So I was wondering if I could have your number.” His eyes closed mid sentence, feeling embarrassed about his sound lack of ability to say something that wasn’t awkward.

Thankfully you seemed to want to spare him some suffering, quickly asking for his phone so you could add your contact, sneakingly adding a cheesy heart after your name. And when you were about to close the door you turned around and asked one last thing, “How did you know? You know, that I changed my number.”

He didn’t like the implications of that question, almost as if you were implying that it would be impossible to know if he hadn't tried to contact you, which you seemed to believe he hadn’t tried to do so all this time.

“I called you and someone else answered.” You nodded softly at his words, a feeling that he couldn’t quite comprehend pooling in your eyes before closing the door.

Yes, he should’ve called you sooner, should have texted Felix asking for your new number a million years before but he never thought of it despite always thinking of you. He had gotten so caught up with every present day that he had forgotten what he was leaving behind; but now you were part of his present and he was determined to keep you there.

It didn’t feel like he was on a cloud as he made his way back home, it rather felt somewhat heavy as he thought back on the last look in your eyes. If he could then he would run back to your door and wouldn’t leave until a smile hung on your lips, but he was scared of overstepping his boundaries.

His bed felt less comfortable than usual but that was usual on the navy nights that lyrics haunted his mind. And so he found himself on his usual spot on the floor of his room, guitar lazily placed on his lap, laptop sitting on the floor making him have to slouch himself to properly type down what he wanted.

At one point he fell asleep, not caring about the hard wooden floor under his back or the cold air nipping at his skin. Until he moved, guitar complaining about the position it had been placed at. His eyes snapped open and he quickly reached his hands around the floor until they found his phone.

One long yawn and then his eyes were being met with an almost perfect 05:59 that quickly turned to 06:00. He still had a solid hour and a half of sleep but he still found his feet colliding with the pavement of the street, later reaching a coffee shop near the studio.

He exited the place with the ring of a bell and an iced americano seeping cold into the warm skin of his hand. A pleased smile grazed his lips upon the first sip, he was now more ready than ever to start his day.

Not long after his friends were exaggeratedly gasping in surprise behind his back upon reaching the studio and finding the younger there. He clicked away shamelessly, never daring to feel embarrassed in front of them, not when it came to music and his sometimes peculiar lyrics.

“A love song?” Chan snorted while peeking over his shoulder, only causing a light blush to spread across his cheeks. He only shrugged it off before continuing his work.

Hours passed and as the sun reached its peak his fingers found their way to his phone screen, clicking on your contact and quickly typing a short message before he started overthinking his way to never speaking to you again. Only then noticing the heart that you had placed beside your name; it made his heart do a flip

He typed a quick and simple question, asking if you were free at seven; soon after you replied with a lovely yes that made him giddy. His expression must have radically changed because Changbin felt free to question him and try to take a peek of his screen.

“Hyung!” Jisung said annoyed while scooting away a couple of centimetres, his friend just giggled in content and left him alone.

Taking into account that his apartment was a mess he quickly convinced you to hang out at yours to what you even ended up offering to make dinner for both of you with a sweet If you get the ingredients then I’ll be happy to cook.

So as soon as he had the chance he shouted farewell to his friends as he hurried to his apartment to get ready and buy the things you had asked him too, feeling all too happy and young. It’s not like he was old but everytime he thought about you now he felt like a child, back at 15 or even worse, younger, not knowing what to do except stare at your messages with complete infatuation.

His knuckles hesitated before colliding with your beige door twice, quickly and with enough force to make his presence known to you who opened with a tender smile barely reaching your eyes.

When he entered he couldn’t help but allow his eyes to linger around every small detail that the place held. The grey cushion went delightfully well with the subtle tones of yellow and cerulean, those matching with some accents you had added on the walls.

Only then he noticed that just as your number changed you could’ve too, he knew all about the you who had survived school by his side but almost nothing about the person who lived on that tidy apartment that smelt faintly of vanilla.

He turned around to find the image of you moving freely in the kitchen way too endearing to look away. Your hands got everything he had brought out of the bag and your back greeted him with a sense of familiarity he could get used to.

A second later you turned around, a playful smile crinkling the corners of your eyes. “Are you going to help me or are you just going to stand there?”

Jisung chuckled before throwing a small apology to the air, walking to your side and not forgetting to push his hips to meet yours. Grabbing some vegetables he moved to the sink to wash them, that was one of his specialties in the kitchen.

You hummed along at a non existent song while he dried his hand on the kitchen towel, watching you cook without major effort. Out of nowhere your eyes travelled to his, making him freeze on his spot for a second.

“I missed you,” you said with ease, showing him that those words weren’t as hard to pronounce as he had been thinking since he hugged you on the street.

He was about to answer, finally allowing himself to take the proper time to express how happy he felt about your presence when you turned around and walked a couple steps towards him, gaze saddening ever so slightly. “Why didn’t you call me in all this time?”

“Well...” He sighed loudly, contemplating the option with which he could respond. I was scared? Well sure, he was but that wasn’t really the reason. I forgot? More like it but it definitely sounded rude enough to gain the wrong reaction from you. I love you? No, that wasn’t the answer to this question in particular, but it sure was an answer he would have to say at one point.

At the silence that installed in the kitchen you sighed before speaking. “When we first started getting distanced I was really discouraged, but every single time I feared we wouldn’t talk again I remembered something you told me once. God, maybe you don’t even remember.” Jisung’s gaze softened once again, of course he knew, how could he forget how he lied to you. “You said ‘Trust in me, we’ll make it through’, even now it brings me such peace to think back at the certainty with which you said that.”

You walked towards the couch, sitting and patting the cushion beside yours to urge him to do the same.

“Those words healed me during the hardships that I went through, they gave me hope that no matter how much time passed we still remained the same, all of us.” You sighed loudly and looked at the floor. “But still, I couldn’t help wondering why? Were you too busy? Not interested enough? Had you forgotten about me? And at some point I blamed you until I realized that I could’ve texted you too, or perhaps called you. But I was so caught up in being scared that I never made a move, and without realizing the years had passed by.”

After a short pause you moved your eyes to meet his again, filled with melancholy. “So, I didn't call you because I was too much of a coward and I accept it.” Jisung chuckled lightly, earning a small laugh from you as well. “So why didn’t you?”

He sighed once again before leaning back on the couch, to which you followed seconds later, resting your head on the back of the couch while looking at him with an intense gaze.

“Did you know that your name was my email password when we were in high school?” he began; you immediately shook your head to deny knowing. “It still is. I hadn’t seen you in five years and still your name keeps being my password. I typed it every time I got a new phone, when I forgot my laptop and had to log in elsewhere, all the time, your name.”

He stole a glance at your face and smiled widely before looking at the ceiling, white and with the smallest crack on one corner of the room. “There wasn’t a second that I didn’t think of you and not a moment in which I didn’t have the intention of calling you.

There were times in which I was way too caught up in my life and what I had in front of my eyes but that wasn’t enough excuse. Just like you said, one day I realized that it had been too long and I felt too guilty to do it. I had promised you we wouldn’t drift away and then there I was, months of not exchanging a single word with you and an incredible amount of guilt tying my hands to my back.”

“I lied to you and then convinced myself that I had no right to face you after,” Jisung finally said, embarrassment creeping up to his cheeks at how his statement sounded out loud.

“But you didn’t lie to me, at least not entirely,” you quickly retorted, earning a quick snort from him.

“Well damn, thank you so much. Now I feel way better.”

Rolling your eyes and hitting his arm lightly, you continued, “You said we would make it through and here we are; being away from each other wasn’t the end of the world. We, well, I was too childish back then to think that our relationship changing a little would be the end of the world.

We were kilometres apart, of course our relationships would change but in the end it didn’t change that much. I mean, look at us. You just revealed an embarrassing secret that will cost you your email.”

He threw you a warning look before you giggled. “After all this time we can still talk freely, it’s just a matter of catching up where we left off and going back to our old rhythm.”

A matter of catching up and going back to our old rhythm. The first part had put his calm at ease, the second one not so much. He didn’t want to go back exactly to what you had; you had just said it yourself relationships change and he wanted this one to do so as well.

He reached his hand to grab yours, finally intertwining his fingers freely with yours after years of hesitation. Throwing you one last look he just muttered, “Or change.”

“Or change...” you repeated after him, adding with mischief something else, “like your password should if you don’t want me lurking around your email.”

“God, you have such a way of ruining things" You snorted and he sighed in defeat. You were still a dork and that would never change, like his password; remaining the same that he loved.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 7

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV. There is violence in this chapter.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: *chants* BRUCE FLUFF BRUCE FLUFF BRUCE FLUFF. *sings* they're ain't no big thing just show them a little swing. Beneficial Cucumber. Author's notes are spoilers without context at this point... Y'all-

My beta, @miscmarvelwritings . We make the best duo. I am her dumb of ass and she is my gay. I love her.

Tony was elbow-deep in a robot when I came out of the elevator, Peter holding up the spare part needed, hovering next to the engineer. Without preamble, I was directed to help and dutifully fulfilled Tony's requests. Nothing indicated that my evening stunt ever happened besides Pete's faint blush; I might as well have written it off to the tank top hugging the upper part of my body in all the right places.

I was disappointed, I won't lie to myself - I expected Tony to tease me at least a little bit, snark something vaguely lewd and move on. But the engineer was quiet today, eerily so, almost to the point where it seemed he was ignoring me on purpose. My pride didn't let me begin any of our usual banter so I frowned in silence, making the appearance of a very focused person. Bolts and screws - most interesting things in the world!

As usual, I clocked out first around eleven thirty, leaving Pete and Tony some time to discuss their secret science stuff. Usually I would be exhausted by this point which left little to no room for jealousy but that night, emotions hit me like a freight train and it took me every ounce of my willpower to head out to Bruce's for the inevitable "I'm disappointed in you/Fuck safely" round of brainwashing.

My brain kept returning to the downwards tilt of Tony's mouth and the somber mood around him. I hated seeing him so...unhappy and tense.

The moment I set step in Bruce's lab, I saw the man's back hunched over a tube, I felt the same energy coming from him. What a fucking day! The sigh that left my mouth was resigned. "Bruce?"

A couple of seconds passed before he turned. He attempted a smile but it didn't reach his eyes at all. "Hi, Princess."

I cocked my head in defeat. "If this is the part where you lecture me, let's get over it. Or even better, you say nothing and we carry on," I pursed my lips, inspecting my nails in favour of actually facing the scientist.

I heard the click-clack of his instruments being placed on the table and the soft taps of his shoes against the tiled floor. His arms reached around my shoulders before I could even attempt to pull away, one of his broad palms tucking my face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm not mad, baby girl," He told me quietly.

I felt some of the tension dissipate, wrapped my arms around him, coming to a realization the man was all but melting into me.

"Just stay safe, alright? I don't want you to get hurt," With the same quiet tone, Bruce gently shushed my worries away. "If something is wrong, you can come to me. You know that, right?" He sounded painfully hopeful as he withdrew just enough to capture my face in his hands, forcing me to look him in the eye.

Something about the look in his eyes made my heart ache. I didn't have the heart to refuse, nor did I want to, so I nodded. Promptly, I was embraced yet again, his lips resting on the crown of my head, both of us swaying gently.

I've never wanted to cry so badly in my entire life.

"I'm a fuckin' mess, Bwucie, you haven't got a clue what you've gotten yourself into," I settled for a round of self-deprication instead. Bitter as it was, it was the barenaked truth.

"Then you're a beautiful mess," I could feel the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. So I smiled, too, obscured by his lab coat.

As much as I didn't want to leave the embrace, like, ever, I had to get home before one o'clock - before mother went to bed, zonked out on Valium and Ambien from the endless supply closet courtesy of my dad. "M'hafta go home," I mumbled.

Bruce sighed deeply. "I'll grab one of Tony's cars and drive you," He went over to remove his lab coat as I gaped. "I'm a forty-five year old man, I can drive." He chuckled humorlessly.

"Tony won't mind?" I asked the first question that popped into my mind to attempt dispelling the awkward moment.

"Trust me, he won't mind at all," Bruce mumbled darkly. I wondered what's up with that but the immediate future for me was already planned out: I was really looking forward to going home, crawling into bed with my clothes on and having a good old fashioned cry.

We made quick work of locating a set of keys and peeling out of the garage in Tony's shiny Audi R8, tires squealing on the wet pavement. It had stopped raining sometime during my robot building but the city was still filled with puddles. I could smell the moist, decaying leaves through the tiny gap of the window, the city was drowning in autumn like I was drowning in my own cluelessness.

The adrenaline rush, the weight of Tony's foul mood, the grief and pleading that radiated off Bruce mixed into a horrendous cocktail of misery and pain. Too much pain for my little, weak, dumb heart to handle. And all these people out in the streets, dressed to the nines despite the disgusting weather - laughing, hugging and drunkenly giggling, it was like salt on my wounds, rubbing it in how much of a good time they were having.

"This your house?" Bruce pointed at the black, high gate of the entrance to my garage.

"Yeah, it's a bit much," I nodded absentmindedly, seeing Bruce's eyes bulge at the sheer size of my estate. My mother wouldn't settle for any less than the best so having a monstrously huge (for NYC) home was what she got. Dad just signed the checks.

Bruce hummed.

I made a face, reaching for his warm hand and giving it a squeeze. "Thanks, Bwucie," Smiling at him, I used up the last of my good mood to show the gratitude he deserved.

He pulled me into a tight hug right over the middle console. It wasn't comfortable by any means with the numerous buttons and switches poking at the soft of my stomach but there was nowhere else I'd rather be than in his arms during that moment. The breaths that left me felt like they were punched out of my chest cavity by steel-toed boots.

"Good night, Princess. Sweet dreams." He kissed my cheek, lingering just a tiny bit.

I did the same, rubbing softly against his stubble and giggling at the ticklish sensation. "Night night, Bwucie."

I waved at him again as I unlocked my front gates and watched him speed off from behind it, obscured by the shadows of the decorative trees growing right behind the fence.

Bruce's face had morphed into something akin to torment or suffering the moment I disappeared from his immediate eyesight and it baffled me to no extent. I ransacked my brain left and right, searching for a reason I might have inadvertently caused him to feel that way but found none. The only logical reason was that he was just lonely. He didn't have many friends from what I gathered and if judging by the proud tone in which he spoke of Will-Mr Davies today, he desperately needed some other company than his teammates. I wish I could have helped.

Mother was nowhere to be seen when I entered the house so a beeline for my bed was successful. The ugly, loud, dry-heaving sobs weren't in any shape or form attractive or acceptable to show to anybody but me so when they forced their way out of me, the pillow keeping me company. I cried as for everything that was happening to me as much as I sobbed because of the self-pity I was indulging in.

It was pathetic, really. My mother would scoff and my father... Well, he'd offer me to 'cheer up, throw a party, do normal teenager stuff'. The bottle of wine I kept in my closet was empty in no time: I justified that as a single lady in a big city, I was entitled to relax once in a while.

Who was I lying to? I downed a bottle in twenty minutes just so I could fall asleep and begone from all this bullshit for a while.

On Monday, I anonymously submitted the documents pertaining to Thompson's behaviour to the school board and to a local newspaper that was known to dabble in socialite gossip. Next day, an investigation was promptly launched and important-looking people started to appear in the hallways, going in and out of the principal's office. Flash was pulled out of class by two police officers: at this point, half the student population was unashamedly filming it on their smartphones, me included. With grim satisfaction, I sent the video directly to the group chat with an added message of "so long, fucker".

Steve didn't even remark on my profanity, just sent a thumbs up.

It really fuckin' blew up the next morning. The news was plastered across every paper, every social media site - "Midtown Principal's son arrested for grand theft auto and assault", "Midtown Principal Being Investigated for obstruction of education" and other ridiculous headlines that had me, Bucky and Natasha in shit-fits.

Flash returned to school on Wednesday accessorized with a pretty ankle monitor and a sullen frown. During lunch, he sat only with two of his closest minions instead of the chatty group he was usually seen with. Everybody avoided him like the bubonic plague, even teachers ignored him.

With the final bell, me and Pete went on to look for Happy outside the school territory.

I was spending nearly every evening at the tower either in Tony's or Bruce's lab or sandwiched between Wanda and Bucky on the couch, gossiping while TV shows mutely played in the background. I had found a second friend in the face of Winter Soldier who, much like me, spent a lot of his days occupied by the internet or in a general state of confusion. Bucky was charming, funny and very flamboyant. I enjoyed the no-nonsense attitude and zero fucks that he gave the world in general.

The moment I stepped on the other side of the gate, I immediately knew something was wrong. Peter squirmed uncomfortably beside me, looking frantically in every direction, trying to spot Happy's car in vain.

"Ay, Parker," The familiar obnoxious voice of Peter's bully reached our ears. "You wanna tell me how you got your grubby little hands on that file?"

Thompson had brought back up with him, the idiot that he was. He was standing off to the side, leaning against the fence while five older boys surrounded us in a tight circle.

"Leave us alone, Flash, you're already in trouble," Peter tried reasoning with the bully meanwhile I... I was searching for a cleaner, dryer spot to dump my $1500 bag onto in preparation for the inevitable. I was no stranger to swinging my arm - as a frequent house party guest, I've had to fend off enough unwelcome advances. I've been told I have a mean, mean right hook.

"Bold of you to assume Peter would actually steal something," I stated in a bored tone once my bag was out of the way and Pete was standing securely behind me. I wasn't afraid of Flash, mostly because I knew he'd step back for the fear of retaliation from my family was usually too much.

"Oh, look at that, the weirdo is talking," Thompson mocked, getting up and standing right in front of my face. "You know, I don't get why the likes of you have to go to school with us, normal people. See, Peter here might be a little wimp but at least he won't shoot up the whole school one day because his daddy didn't love him enough," Thompson decided to test his luck. To finish his epic tirade with a flourish, he spat on the ground next to me.

I snorted. "Wow, that's an awful lot of smart words for someone as dumb as a doorknob," I shook my head in disdain. "Look, either you go now or I'll sue you so far up your ass, you'll be sucking dick in prison just to get something to fill your stomach with." And wow, that comeback was really, really good. I was proud of myself.

I saw pure rage mar Thompson's already ugly face into something demonic and ducked at the last moment, feeling the blunt sting of his knuckles connect with my left cheekbone. Reflectively I swung, too, decking him straight in the nose with all the rage and despair that was burning deeply inside of me at that time.

I heard gasps all around me as the students whispered, shouted and cheered at Thompson's confused form hitting the ground. He held his face and his palms were stained a deep crimson; I felt something warm on my face, copper in my mouth.

"Does anybody want some of that, too?" My tone was icy. I shrugged off the hand that landed on my shoulder, glaring down one of the boys who came with Thompson.

"Shit, cops, RUN!" One of the students suddenly shouted and just like that, both me and Flash were surrounded only by a handful of students who had filmed the entire incident on camera. God bless technology!

"Uh, I think you're bleeding," Pete timidly remarked from behind me, hand still awkwardly outstretched towards me. He cast a guilty look to the side where Happy was running towards us, phone held to his ear, no doubt already on the line with Tony and the rest of the Avengers. Shit, fuck, SHIT. I didn't plan for this!

The police officers called an ambulance for Flash and took my statement while I was holding my bleeding nose up to the sky, much to the officer's dismay. Happy had passed the officer his mobile phone and I briefly heard Tony's voice saying that I will be taken care of in the tower's medical suite - and let's face it, no cop will go against Iron Man's charm and wit.

As an eighteen year old, I could refuse the on-site medical assistance that the city provided and my parents weren't required so I was let go after my statement was taken and my injuries photographed.

Not that the photoshoot really was required. Multiple people had the incident on video, from multiple angles. It was an open and close case. I called my mother in the elevator (she didn't answer) and left her a voice message with the bare facts of the situation and my current whereabouts.

Seeing the whole team assembled in the living room, some nervously twitching, some anxiously pacing, I couldn't help but let out a slightly hysterical giggle. "Oh my god, guys, I'm not in a coma, stop acting like I'm in a coma!"

Bucky was the first to approach me, carefully hugging me and steering me towards Bruce. He looked a bit rough, green-ish? I guess. But the first aid kit was already on the table and Stephen Strange was hovering nearby.

"You decked the sucker real good, doll," Bucky's Brooklyn accent made his speech less intelligible but he definitely got all the cookie points for the heat and the passion.

"Ditto. Should've kicked him in the balls, too," Natasha smirked and Steve mirrored her smirk with a darker twist.

"I'm going to sue him so darn far up his ass," Tony seethed, looking absolutely livid.

"Don't worry, mother's got it handled," I obediently laid down on the couch, staring up at Bruce's wide eyes and Stephen's focused face.

"You are fearless and fierce, dear lady," Thor boomed from somewhere.

All of this was making me... Emotional. I just punched a piece of human garbage, it was not a big deal, okay? He had it coming. I chuckled uncomfortably, wincing when Bruce began dabbing at the dried blood on my face with a piece of gauze soaked in alcohol. "Petey, you alright?" I asked, worried about the sudden onset of silence from the usually chatty boy. He mumbled something. "Speak up, I can't hear shit with all the ringing in my ears."

That earned me a worried look from doctor Strange and a frown from Bruce.

"I should've protected you-I mean-it's not that you can't do it yourself, or because you're a girl, it's just-I," he suddenly stopped.

"Go ahead, kid," Tony urged him with unmistakable kindness in his voice.

"You see, I'm-I'm actually Spider-Man and I'm afraid to accidentally kill someone, 'cause I'm really strong." Pete blurted out.

I had to replay his words several times in my head to get to the gist of what he was actually saying. Shy little Peter? Spider-Man? So that's why he was such a fucking pacifist? I mean, it made perfect sense if he really was strong enough to lift cars and hold together collapsing bridges like I'd seen on YouTube.

"Huh," I stated after a brief pause. "I guess I did double the work today, dumped out some trash and prevented a potential murder. I'm on a roll and I deserve chocolate cake," I rambled to distract myself from the incoming dull headache and the sting of the alcohol against the split skin of my cheek.

Strange chuckled, looking, possibly, the happiest I've ever seen him. Bruce giggled too. A tiny bit.

"Friday, order the biggest, most expensive chocolate cake that can be delivered in... Two hours," Tony immediately spoke up.

"Cake," I mumbled happily, a strange drowsiness overcoming me, making my eyelids droop. "Hey-mmm, doc?" I slurred, seeing Stephen's face fall. "M'think m'concussed, f'king 'ell!" The snort that left his mouth was absolutely hilarious; I started giggling, too, startling Banner into action.

He picked up his phone, saying something I didn't understand at all.

"Y'kno," I had this totally bright idea I absolutely NEEDED to share with everyone. "Y'kinda look like the guy... Wha's'is name... Bendy-snap Crum-ble-sticks? No, wait," Snorts and giggles began to resonate through the room as the amount of Doctor Stranges suddenly multiplied by two. He was a WIZARD, that was so cool! "I think... Mmm, yes... Benadryl-Claritin? No-no-no, 'das meds," Woah, a lot of people were there and they were suddenly all laughing. I wondered what was so funny. It was hard to think with so many people laughing; my temples were pulsating uncomfortably. "Wait, I know, I know!" There were wheezing noises now, noises that distinctively reminded me of Tony and Wanda and Bucky. "Bubble-butt Coitus-snack!" I triumphantly exclaimed, finally happy to have gotten it right.

The laughter turned into truly demonic cackling, surrounding me, they were so loud I almost managed to get fully afraid. And then, I passed the fuck out.

TAGLIST IS OPEN Y'ALL.

@another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem

[medeafive]

Blood and Stone - 29

Masterpost

Prague has never smelled so much of vampires. It’s in every street, behind every corner, and she follows the smell as she speeds on her motorcycle towards the screams, through the cold night air. She smells blood, too, human and vampire, though the screams are harder to distinguish. They’re coming closer, right side of the street, and when she sees the broken windows and the glass on the street, she knows exactly where to go.

The strong wooden door has been kicked down with more than human force and she heads straight for the stairs, gun drawn. The screaming has stopped but the smell of blood intensifies with every step. The doors on the second floor are all barred and intact, though heavily scratched, so she heads up one more. The door on the left is ripped to pieces, blood splattered into the hallway. She presses against the wall, keeping her breathing down, peeking in.

There’s a severed arm in the hallway but worse, she hears faint breathing. Oh no. Not again. Steps. She braces herself-

The vampire tries to sink his fangs into her arm and she slashes his face with her knife, he screeches and presses his hands to the graying skin and she takes the opportunity to kick him in the chest, sending him flying down the hallway with a cracking sound, hitting the floor hard. His fangs are bloody, his eyes very dark, not a fledgling anymore. His clothes are shredded, dirty, barely covering the pale white skin. He’s probably one of those lone vampires roaming the countryside, hiding from detection by Schmidt’s goons, hoping to make it long enough on his own to be considered worthy, taking the lucky opportunity of a siege to ensure his own survival and drink as much blood on the way as he can. But now, he’s run into her.

She jumps at him as he scrambles up, sinking the knife into his shoulder, twisting it as he shrieks, she knocks out his right fang. His claws cut through the air and she has to retreat, shield her face. He hisses at her with his bloody fangs and attacks her. She rolls out underneath him, slashing his calf, he howls and drops to one knee, she grabs his head from behind and slashes his throat quickly but not deep enough, he pulls her to the floor with him, her armor creaks miserably under his claws but she delivers a clean uppercut, punches out the second fang and blocks his jaw while his claws try to break through her breast plate, she gets her hands on his knife and stabs him under the chin. It's not silver but it gives her enough time to grab her own knife from the floor, she bats his arms away, gets on top of him and drives it through his chest until the tip of the blade sinks into the wooden floor.

She remembers how darkness crept into Pierce's eyes when he died, flooding the white eyes with dark blood, but Pierce was an old vampire, not like this one. This one, his eyes are already dark, you'd never see it. Pierce is the only vampire she has killed whose eyes weren't red or black.

Okay. Now to the less pretty part.

She still hears the faint breathing. She already knew it wasn't the now dead vampire but the confirmation still hits her uncomfortably. She gets up and passes down the hallway into the apartment.

The crumpled body with the ripped off arm is in the living room, sucked almost entirely dry, definitely not breathing anymore. Faint whimpers coming from what must be the bedroom. Natasha heads there, knife gripped tight, controlling her breathing.

The woman is on the bedroom floor, bleeding from scratches on her arms, thighs and chest, trembling and whimpering, trying to crawl somewhere and just rolling in on herself. She has all the signs, the shaking, the sweating, the blown and twitching pupils. She smells like it, too. Natasha crouches down, carefully turning her head to bare the side of her neck. The woman startles but she can't really see, eyes darting around unfocused, fingers closing around thin air. Natasha stays back as good as she can, sweeping the hair back. The woman chokes with a sob. She must be in a lot of pain. The red bite mark on her neck is unmistakable.

"Please," the woman whispers, blindly flailing around without any force. "Please."

"I'm sorry," Natasha replies. She doesn't feel any hate anymore, it's just what it is, but if she lets this woman turn, she'll rip apart the people downstairs in a few hours. It's not her fault. It just has to be done.

"No!" the woman shrieks. "No, please, don't-"

The silver knife sinks into her chest, piercing her heart, and the begging stops, her arms drop heavily on the floor, empty eyes staring towards the ceiling. Natasha takes a deep breath, twisting the knife, then grabs the woman's head by her hair and cuts her head off with one vampire blood-fueled swing.

Now it's truly quiet. Lots of blood. The window is broken, cold December air streaming in. Maybe the smell will attract more vampires, scavengers, but she can't stick around when there are so many more places like this, so many more helpless victims, so many more vampires. She surveys the apartment once more, finding no survivors, retrieves her gun and then jumps through the window, three floors down, rolling through the impact, the armor protecting her from the glass shards, and before she knows it, she's back on the motorcycle, speeding towards the next unspeakable horror.

It's been a week. It had started slowly, more and more vampires, more and more attacks, and now every fucking night is a nightmare. A real bloodbath. Every vampire on their own is easy to kill, especially now that the vampire strength still hasn't worn off, but for every single one she kills, there are a dozen more the next night. A steady stream that only ever increases.

She's so in thought the falling thing almost hits her, throws her off the bike, but she zips out just barely. When she's steady enough to look up, she sees a window close on the fourth floor, wooden shutters slamming. Oh yeah. Driving through the city at night murdering people, very popular. That's also part of it.

She drives on anyway, catching a whiff of something around Nové Malešice and following it West. The area around the cemetery is deserted, as always, a popular superstition, so she turns South, stopping near the old prison when the smell becomes intense. A figure emerges from the shadows as she climbs off the bike. Sure, it has a few scratches from when she crashed into a bunch of vampires but it's not like she ruined it, no matter what Fury complains about. It's Sam.

He nods towards her blood covered armor and she shrugs, checking that her gun is still there. "Don't ask."

He shakes his head, looking up towards a dark window. "It's a group, five of them. Thought I'd better wait for backup."

"My phone broke two fights ago," she replies. "Are they in there?"

"Made sure they wouldn't leave," Sam confirms. "Actually, I was waiting for your friend but it looks like he's still busy."

It's beginning to annoy her she had a fucking baby with that guy and they still can't bring themselves to call him anything else than your friend. Nobody has mentioned the baby either, not even once, and she can't really complain about that but it still irks her. All the chiding looks, the quiet judgment, the barely hidden disgust. First, she had the benefit of the doubt when they didn't know how intimate she and James were, and then she was pregnant and dying and wasn't going to get too much criticism, or maybe she just wasn't well enough to notice, but now she has neither and she's just waiting until someone dares say something instead of it being clear on their faces, in their eyes.

"Don't need him," she replies. "Let's go."

  It's actually less messy than the previous fight. Sam shoots two before the vampires notice them and she gets the jump on another. Most of all, she doesn't have to kill humans again. It's not a difficult fight, at least for two people.

She takes the moment outside for a breather, staring at the cloudy sky as she grips the bloody jagged knife. This is only going to get worse. More vampires streaming in than they can kill. And then the black cloaks. Well, the ones who aren't already here. Sam joins her. "You okay?"

She nods. She's not even tired. Just weary. "Where are we going next?"

Sam checks his phone. "I don't know. Looks like your friend is still busy."

"Don't call him that," she snaps, regretting it instantly.

"What am I supposed to call him?" Sam asks calmly. "Your boyfriend?"

She doesn't reply. This is all stupid, she knows it. It felt like it would all be okay once she survived the pregnancy but it's the opposite, now she has to deal with the monster baby and the vampire invasion and her own relationship to a fucking vampire, none of it having gotten any easier. Chiding Sam for politely ignoring the nature of her relationship with James doesn't help a thing.

"Look, I know you like him, seriously," Sam adds. "He likes you, too. And I don't blame you for that or anything but- don't you ever think it's wrong ?"

It's never felt that way. But who is she to tell? Her morals are questionable at best. She knows what she's done. She also knows that she has already killed two people tonight, two humans on the verge of turning, and meanwhile she's running around still high on vampire blood and doesn't even really feel bad about it, if she's honest. At least not as bad as she should. Like she would still know what's right or wrong.

"Killing vampires is what feels right, doesn't it?" Sam asks. "Like tonight. You didn't stop for a second to think about whether one of them has feelings, you instantly knew they're bloodsucking monsters and you killed them. Seeing your- your friend's claws on your skin, that felt revoltingly wrong."

She only really has one reply, one counter argument, and she hadn't wanted to use it because it'll only make it worse but now, it slips out. "You're just jealous."

"I'm not jealous and you know that," Sam swats away easily. "I just can't help the feeling that one day, he's going to rip you to pieces. Maybe it'll be Schmidt's mind control, maybe it'll be his true nature coming through, maybe it'll just be an accident. Doesn't really make a difference. Actually, you're lucky if Schmidt kills him before it comes to that."

She shudders. Yes, she knows the prospects are grim. She knows James is still a vampire, still wants to drink her blood, she's dancing on knife's edge and hoping he miraculously has the self-control not to do it. Sam is right, he could slip at any moment, even by accident. She just can't bring herself to get off the knife. "What am I supposed to do? Dump him?"

Sam sighs. "Bobbi says he- he bit you."

She groans loudly. So much for secrets. "Not like that, it wasn't- I'm not turning-"

"I know," Sam interrupts. "I know. But don't tempt him. Don't let him get too relaxed, too close with you."

Dropping into American euphemisms again. "I'm not sleeping with him anymore, if that's what you're asking."

"Good." Sam rubs his nose. "Just, he's in your room a lot."

He doesn't really believe her. And he's not completely wrong, maybe she would sleep with James again if he wasn't- profoundly not in control of his body. Which is exactly Sam's point. "He sleeps in the chair. Sleeps a lot, actually."

"I mean, it's your business," Sam retreats. "But that's a dangerous game you're playing."

"Yeah, because everything else we do is so fucking safe," she returns. "Come on, let's go to Malá Strana, there must be more than enough vampires around."

  The castle side of the river is even worse. She hardly gets to get on her bike between fights, between shooting and stabbing and beheading. Vampires everywhere. She excels at fighting, of course, so it's not all that hard on her. Her constitution doesn't fail her even once. Compared to everything else she put her body through, this is easy.

She kills some and she saves some. Humans, that is. She kills every single vampire she comes across. For the humans, it's often too late.

She has just shot three vampires when she smells blood in the dark back room, human blood. More vampire blood, too. She takes a deep breath and kicks the barred door down.

There are vampire corpses inside, their mangled composition making it impossible to tell their number at first glance. The human smell is stronger. She's about to go through the next door when a man appears, arm wrapped in a fresh bandage, bleeding. Human. He still smells human. He looks wary when he sees her but he doesn't hide. "You weren't bitten," she states.

The man shakes his head. He's young, actually, though she couldn't tell at first. This war ages all of them. "I fought against them. The rest… it was a blur, and then they were dead."

He smells human so she'll believe him. By now, she knows what they smell like when they're about to turn. "I shot those outside. You should patch that up better or the smell will attract more."

The man bites his lip. "You should know- I saw it outside. It had a black cloak."

That could have been just James. Or it could be the Viper already, in which case they're fucked. "Was it a man?"

"Yes." The man shakes his head. "I think. No, I'm certain."

"What did he look like?" she asks. Maybe it's that Karpov guy from Russia. Or the Strucker guy from Germany. Probably not Schmidt himself, the red skin would be too recognizable.

"Dark hair," the man says. "Long. I mean, for a man."

Yep, that's her guy. "Don't worry about that one. I know him."

"You know him?" the man repeats, horrified.

"He didn't kill you, did he?" she asks back. "And you smell like a fucking buffet. Really, you should patch that up better."

The man recoils from her. "Get away from me. You- you monster ."

"Learn to kill your own fucking vampires," she returns. "Without spreading your bloody smell all over the street."

  "Wow," James remarks. "You smell like a thousand deaths."

Yeah, she has all sorts of vampire blood all over. Some human, too, even though she tried to avoid it. "More like a hundred. You should get back to the tower, sun's coming up."

James grins, stepping into her space, looking for her own smell in the puddle. Or maybe he's trying to keep the different smells apart. "You know I like to live dangerously."

He smells of vampire blood, too, though it seems to have gotten less messy for him. "Not much living if you burn to a crisp."

"Make sure Steve gets home safely," he says. "Haven't seen him for a while."

She snorts, getting on her toes. "Yeah, sure. Big muscle man needs to be walked home."

"Thanks," he replies unironically. "Letting him run around just feels unresponsible."

"Yeah, yeah." She kisses his cold cheek. "Get inside already, I'm not nursing you back to health again."

He snorts. "I'll be fine, I promise. Okay, I'll see you at the Tower, or are you doing the daytime raids?"

Fury's idea, but they haven't tried it yet. She sighs, stepping back. "Nah. Should probably sleep."

"Yeah, you should," he agrees, already eyeing the next roof. "Okay. Take care. Don't forget Steve."

Steve with the good smell is starting to annoy her. James' cloak swooshes and he's up on the roof, throwing her a last look before jumping into the cold night air, disappearing.

Okay. She really should get Steve home, everything else would be petty. Clint is waiting down the street, also looking quite annoyed, and disgusted. She snorts, heading towards him. "Shut the fuck up."

"Didn't say anything," Clint returns, checking dents on his bow.

"Your face says it all," she replies, trying to remember where she last left the motorcycle. "Do you know where that Steve guy is?"

"It's like watching you cuddle a tiger," Clint states, ignoring the question. "Sure, you'll say he hasn't eaten anyone for a while and he's really nice or whatever but it's still a fucking tiger. One day, without warning, without reason, it'll rip your fucking face off."

"Spare me your circus tales," she replies. "At least the tiger is really fucking good at hunting vampires."

"No reason to cuddle him," Clint counters. "And to answer your question, no, I have no idea where Golden Boy is."

She'll have to track down his smell then. "I'm not asking you to like it. Actually, someone threw something at me tonight. Out of a window, while I was driving down the street."

"A rock?" Clint asks.

"I don't know what it was, didn't stop," she replies. "Do you ever think… if this ever ends, we're fucking done? Absolutely useless and widely despised?"

"It won't end, though," Clint returns. "But don't worry about it, we'll all be dead in the next week or two."

Natasha snorts. "Well, in that case, might as well go cuddle my tiger."

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 40- Forged in Fire

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

While the other hermits forage in Redland, Wels and False forge ahead in Alphasgard, where the best fighters train and best swordsmiths learn. But it’s not just the Arcane guard that is after the two- some old ‘friends’ of Wels want a rematch. 

________________________________

“Halt by order of the Council of Guilds!” False drops the khopesh in her hand, grabbing Wels and dragging him away from the merchant. 

“Thank you for the offer but we have to get going. Right now.” False nods her head over her shoulder, and Wels spots the incoming arcane guard. As soon as he locks eyes with the captain of the patrol, the soldiers push through the busy open market and unsheathe their weapons. 

“Yeah, time to scram.” Wels lets himself be pulled away by False, and the two take off into the crowd. They laugh as they hear the sound of guards yelling, followed a second later by the crash of metal against stone. 

Through the open market, the two blonds make their escape into the heart of Alphasgard. The city traverses over multiple hills, and as the two flee down the slope, houses made of stone and terracotta turn to wood and clay, until the dry pathway becomes a sandy beach at the edge of the Ashioll fjords. Wels ducks between a cart towing raw iron ore and the loud cheering of an archery event along the shore. 

False gets ahead of the guards and Wels. She’s not wearing armor, not left to sink in the sand. But Wels gives himself a speed boost, and quickly catches up with her. Unfortunately, their chase through the beach did little to confuse and confound the arcane guard still after them. “We should split up, Wels. I’ll go over, you go through. Meet me at the Tower of the Blade.” 

“How long should I wait?” He questions, silently cursing having to split up. It’s just the two of them here in Alphasgard, among the square buildings and stout towers. Their magic deals in this physical combat, and they had hoped that just being the two of them would mean they wouldn’t draw the attention of the arcane guard. Fat lot that did. 

“Ah, give me an hour, then assume somethin’s gone wrong. But don’t do anything stupid, just get the supplies and report back to the Order. You know I’m no damsel in distress. I’d do the same if you get caught.” False tightens the weapons strapped to her, preparing to jump and climb. 

“I feel bad for the poor guards that would have to deal with you.” He snickers, before breaking off. The two flee into the city, two different directions.

False takes the high road. Clambering up a ladder made of driftwood, her boots clatter against the wooden roof as False runs across the flat planed shelters. She summons a set of daggers, and throws them into the clay wall, vaulting up the side of the home, each blade a foodhold. Her wild locks of blonde hair dance in the heated tropical sunlight, only tamed by her forging goggles, which sit secure to the crown of her head. 

Over her shoulder, she can hear curses and shouts as the guards struggle to chase after her. Over tall keeps and through windows, she feels almost like a bandit, just finding the best way across the city. Or an assassin, moving above where most won’t look. She clambers up a smooth stone pillar, and jumps from it’s crest to a tower, rising far above most other buildings. From this height, she can feel the cold wind from the fjord whipping at her cheeks. No other building in this district reaches quite as high. 

“Looks like you’re outta roof.” False turns around, her eyes catching on a cart full of palm fronds and a banner on the side of the tower, and faces the three arcane guard before her. The guard at the forefront twirls his shortsword. False can only scoff as she sees how shoddily made the blade is. It was quenched too quickly. One good hit and it could shatter on him. 

“Looks that way, doesn’t it?” False snickers, shrugging and putting her hands up. Taking one step back, until her heel is drifting over open nothingness. “But looks can be deceiving. See you later, boys.” 

With a two fingered salute, she lets the other foot slip off, and she plummets towards the ground. Arms outstretched, she can’t help but laugh at the shocked and terrified faces of the guards above her. She continues to plummet, like an eagle diving towards it’s kill. When it seems like she’d be crushed against the sandy street below, False reaches out and slows her fall by digging her sword into the banner of the building, and buries into the cart of palm fronds. A second later, she hops out, unharmed but heart racing, and continues on her merry way. Leaving the guards shocked and stranded at the top of the tower.

Wels lost sight of False when she hopped over the large square building in the distance. But he has to deal with his own tails he’s kiting through the city. He runs through the crooked streets, somehow managing to squeeze his armored body between the flow of people, trying to keep his head low and disappear among the crowd. 

But the guards aren’t quite as gentle. They barge through people, knocking families apart and sending tailors stumbling for their bobbins and spools. It’s like a bull barging through, eyes trained on the red tassel that swings from his helmet. He can’t keep going straight, they’ll catch him. He has to be clever. 

In a sharp turn, he disappears into the open forges nestled beside an eclectic mix of drink stands. With the blasting ovens baking the smithers and the beating sun against the dry desert sand, the canteens are bustling with people. What Wels wouldn’t give for a sip of the bright blue drinks that are slid across the counters, the clinking of ice against the glass, refreshing as he sweats under his armor. But he doesn’t have time to stop. 

Until fingers wrap around his lion-like tail, and throw him into the ground. He rolls away from a blazing hot rod of unfinished iron. “I got em guards!” 

A bladesmith, mid heat treat, has halted Wels in his tracks. Alarmed by the scene before them, the crowd parts until it was just Wels and the guards. He has no choice now but to fight. Wels frees his blade from it’s scabbard, defending himself but refusing to deal the first blow. Hels would’ve cut down all three guards in an instant. Wels could easily destroy them. But he’s not Hels anymore. 

A guard breaks the silence, swinging his saber to cut down Wels. It’s a stupid move, and Wels easily blocks the attack, the thin metal caught in the twists and curls of his sword. From behind him, another guard shouts out his orders. “Cease and desist this instant! You are under arrest by order of-” 

“Yeah, I’m not really listening.” Wels sneers, twisting his blade and pulling the saber free from the guard. With a flourish, he points the tip of the sword at the shocked guard. “Anyone else want to give it a go?” 

Those words, spoken in a crowd among the city of combat, brought the chaos that Wels needed to escape. It was an invitation to anyone with a sword and a bit of stupidity to start a duel. And from the swarm of people, a dozen different weapons are drawn and brought into the ring. Among the chaos, Wels slips away, dipping behind a drink stand. He can’t help but grab a glass on his crawl past, but he makes sure to leave a few rupees- including tip- for the server. 

Escaping the crowded forge, through a weapon shop, Wels nearly runs face first into a cart full of palm fronds. His tufted yellow tail flicks to the side to balance him out, but someone takes his hand and keeps him from being stranded on his back in his armor. “Saved ya.” 

“False!” Wels grins, happy to see his friend and fellow swordmaster, safe and even smiling. “Looks like you lost your tails.” 

“And you kept yours.” At first Wels thought she meant his actual tail, but when he hears a crashing from the weapon shop he just emerged from, he realizes he hasn’t quite lost the arcane guard after him.Without wasting another second, the two take off towards the Tower of the Blade. The tallest building, rising above and towering over everything else in the city by leaps and bounds. 

It was their goal, not just because it was easy to spot all across the city, but was also a safe haven from the arcane guard and Dolios’s far reach. It was a place of training and bettering oneself. It was the masters of the dojos and training grounds that determined who could enter and who could find safety among their ranks. It was there that Wels found a new purpose in life, after being betrayed by his bandit gang. Here that a master brought him in, despite his dark past, healed him and gave him a reason to change. Even when he thought he was evil, she saw the good in him and trained him. 

It’s here they’ll be able to find solace, to get trained in being an army all their own, for False to learn new ways to forge new weapons, and for Wels to hone his skills with his magic. 

The two disappear down a thin passageway in between two buildings, hiding in the shadows and staying quiet. Wels casts a spell to better camouflage them, and they hold their breath. Seconds feel like hours, until they watch the arcane guard run past the alleyway they’re hidden in. The two don’t move for another few minutes, waiting to be sure that the guards are gone. Only then do they emerge from hiding, and continue on their way. 

In the shadow of the Tower, Wels finds he’s able to untense his shoulders. This was his home before the hermits. A place he found peace, stopped being Hels and welcomed Wels. It’s here he became the man he is now. How he became a hermit. They’re welcomed in, False and Wels splitting apart to learn their individual skills. 

False finds herself in a class on layering metal types, and quickly impresses the master bladesmith with her even heating and precise strikes of the hammer to make just the right curve in the blade. But with the master, she learns to create thick blades, axes and hatchets, cinquedeas and even patas. 

As she pulls the five finger wide blade from the oil it was treated in, False is grinning from ear to ear. “Let’s see how Dolios will handle our new toys.” 

The hermit bladesmith tosses the new weapon to Wels, and he finds himself in the sandy promenade, among a group of students learning the sword style of arnis- martial arts similar to that found in and around Shellor. Wels can’t wait to challenge Etho the next time they’re on Eremita. His blade may not be from this fighting style, but Wels wants to practice his flexibility among weapons. Not just his massive zweihander, but all weapons in all fighting styles. 

Wels is about to test the sharpness of the sword by cutting through a series of bamboo enemies, when an all too familiar voice- to only him- rings loud and clear in the vaulted halls of the Tower. “You never know when to quit, lionheart?”

The healing scar on Wels’s shoulder burns, but he turns around and faces the group of rogues. “And you never know how to keep your prisoners tied up. That was a pretty easy escape, if I say so myself.” 

It was this group of bandits that he was investigating before he returned to Eremita. They who captured him while he infiltrated their numbers, they who made him unable to respond to the hermits. They who scarred him, but he came out stronger. And he’s not running from a fight this time. 

“You’re so damn cocky, what I wouldn’t give to cut that stupid smile off your face.” The bandit sneers. 

“If you want to duel, you just have to say?” Wels turns his back, his nonchalant attitude and snarky remark infuriating his opponent. Across the promenade, Wels sees False draw her own weapon. He waves her off. So long as the rogue will play fair, they won’t have to become the center of False’s wrath. No person should dare be on her bad side. “I just learned a very unique style of fighting, you wanna see?”

The bandit leader, with a scraggly mess of brown hair hastily tied in a bun, pulls out his blade. Wels may not be a bladesmith like False, but even he can see the cheap craftmanship of the heavy weighted sword. The training grounds clear out at the scent of a duel, and both Wels and the bandit assume fight ready stances. Wels stands as noble as the paladin he is, feet firm in the soil, blade between him and his opponent, his other hand tucked behind his back. 

The bowlegged bandit spits to the side. “I’ll make the last scar we gave ya look like a paper cut.” 

The duel starts, and False can clearly see Wels is already ahead. The bandit stumbles to the side, his blade unbalanced as his stance, and Wels digs the thin pommel into the square of his opponents back. The bandit plays quick and dirty, and soon the two are locked in combat. But even when he has to retreat after the blade slips between his armor and wounds him, Wels is still ahead. Last time, he was outnumbered, not outmatched. 

This time, he has the upper hand, so long as his opponent respects the art of the duel. Respects the rules of the Tower. The battle continues, with each hit his opponent makes on him, Wels gets two. He retreats back, looking over his shoulder after admiring the craftmanship of his sword in comparison to the shoddy blade of his enemy. “This is one hell of a sword, False! Great job, friend!” 

His words, although kind, seem to only enrage the bandit. When Wels turns around, he’s no longer dueling the bandit leader. He’s back in that dark speakeasy, fighting off twenty or so of these rats before being overwhelmed and captured. The other bandits have joined in on the fight. “To hell with decorum, I just want to see your blood staining this entire place.” 

Despite the encroaching axes, clubs, spears, and swords, Wels can’t help but chuckle. He backs up, towards the forge. Towards his fellow hermit. “I hate to disappoint you, but you’re quite… False.” 

His grin only grows when the forge wizard appears before him, summoning a blade as hot as an oven’s flame. He brandishes the newly made weapon. Two hermits against ten or more bandits? 

Too easy. The rogues don’t know what’s coming to them, but False and Wels fight like dragons, as graceful and strong. They have each other’s back. If False gets into a pushing match, Wels gives her a strength buff, and she sends her opponent skittering into the dirt. If Wels is surrounded by rogues, False summons throwing knives, and Wels can step over the ambushing party to get back into the fight.

The rogues weren’t prepared for the strength between two hermits. Wels alone was a struggle, but they managed to overpower him. But Wels and False? The fight is over quickly. Any rogues left standing flee, leaving behind their peers and disappearing into the city. Wels sneers, remembering how he was once left that way. 

False runs a bloody, muddy hand through her hair. “Well, I think we got enough training in that one fight. What do you think of the cinquedea?”

He turns, testing the weight of the sword False made. “Strong, balanced, good for cutting and stabbing. It will kill.”

[raleighcarrera]

everywhere we go

ride or die | colt kaneko x mc (ellie wheeler)

everywhere we go / we're the kings and queens and we run this city

ellie comes back to l.a. colt’s been saving a place for her. for @rodappreciationweek day 4 (mc day!)

tags: @choicesarehard, @lovehugsandcandy, @pixeljazzy, @theeccentricbibliophile, @troublemakerinspace, @zigtheeortega, @beccadavenport 

~6.1k words | E (18+)

she was ready.

she’d spent a long time running, but all of that was over, now. 

ellie was coming home.

truth be told, she’d been itching to come back to l.a. for months. as the date of her graduation loomed she found herself less and less interested in her last semester, unmotivated to finish her assignments and avoiding the college parties that had once seemed so fun.

she found herself blowing off classes, work and club meetings so she could take her car out of the city and push it to its limits on the highway, waiting for the speed to top out. making sure she hadn’t gotten rusty.

before she knew it, the day she’d been waiting four long years for had arrived.

ellie took her car straight to colt’s when she drove back, not even bothering to stop home first and unload the entire contents of her dorm, which were still piled into her backseat. she’d been by enough since he’d opened up to know where she was going without her gps, and took the familiar route across the city with an eager smile on her face.

summers back in l.a. -- trips here and there when she could, when she wasn’t working -- had gotten her intimately acquainted with the new shop. the new crew. when she was back on the west coast, ellie spent more time hanging around with colt than she did at home, though there was nothing new there. 

he was waiting for her outside when her car pulled up, and she drove past him into the shop, into the parking space that wasn’t technically hers but that he always left open for her car regardless of what point in the year they were in. a few people she recognized were hanging around working on something, and some of the new crew even called out to her excitedly when she got out of her car, but ellie ignored them, rushing back outside.

she flung herself into colt’s arms with a squeal, burrowing her face into the side of his neck. his arms tightened around her almost to the point of pain and he lifted her up effortlessly, swinging her around before setting her back on her feet and dipping her body low with a searing, knee-weakening kiss. 

when he pulled away, the look in his eyes was suspiciously soft. he rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “i can’t believe you’re home for good.”

ellie grinned at him. home. she really was. warmth coursed through her slowly, her whole body alight as she basked in the naked affection on his face. “i missed you so much.”

he sighed, sliding his hands down from her arms to her waist and pulling her in closer. “me, too.” then his lips spread into a gleeful smirk. “wait ‘til you see what i did.”

that level of unguarded excitement, coupled with the tone of his voice, certainly spelled danger. she’d gotten very few updates while she’d been away on his progress -- it wasn’t safe to talk about any of it over the phone, so for the most part, when she was in new york she’d been kept in the dark where the new crew was concerned.

except for when she was back in california, and colt spent most of the time she was around trying to impress her. then he let her see everything.

he grabbed her hand and pulled her back inside. the rest of the crew looked up when she entered. one of the boys laughed at her from the floor. 

“let’s try this again,” jamie said, “hi, ellie. congrats on graduating.”

she smiled. “thanks. i’m glad to be back.” her eyes fell on a pair of long legs in black jeans poking out from underneath a car. “is that raven? can’t you stop for two seconds to say welcome back?”

a pretty girl with dark hair slid out from under the mclaren she was working on and arched her eyebrows at ellie. “welcome back,” she said obligingly, “but the boss said i have to have this mod done by the end of the day.” 

ellie cut colt a questioning look, and he shrugged. “we have a drop tonight. come on, i’ll get you up to speed.” 

with one last wave to the rest of the team, she followed colt to his office, eager to get started. though he’d absolutely laugh at her if she said so, being back and seeing everyone felt like the first day of school.

he shut the door behind her, and ellie let go of his hand to take a look around, reacquainting herself with the space she’d absolutely already seen every inch of up close before. but... something was different, and she gasped as soon as she noticed what it was. 

since she’d been here last, he’d shifted everything over to make room for a second desk, which was empty, save for a photo of the two of them taped to the side of it. ellie walked over and ran her hand along the smooth surface of the wood. “is this for me?”

colt leaned against his own desk and smiled at her. he looked pretty proud of himself. “yeah. figured you should have your own space in here.”’

she turned around and closed the distance between them swiftly, pushing him into his desk chair. then ellie climbed into his lap and kissed him again, wrapping her arms around his neck. “i love you,” she murmured against his lips, shivering when his hands settled on the small of her back and pushed up underneath her shirt.

colt made a noncommittal noise against her lips, running his fingers reverently over the bare skin of her sides. “i really should tell you about the drop,” he said, though the tone of his voice sounded completely uncaring. 

“in a minute.” her hands slid into his hair and angled his head in for another kiss before he could protest; as expected, the second sound he exhaled into her mouth was much more agreeable, a low undercurrent of excitement running through it.

his fingertips grazed over the line of her spine and slipped around to her hips, holding her tightly on top of him. ellie rocked down to meet his movements eagerly, careless of the fact that she’d been driving for six hours straight before she came here and that she’d last slept in some weird hotel in nevada where she’d had to wash her hair with body wash instead of shampoo because that was all she had.

judging by the way he was eyeing her, when their mouths broke apart so she could catch her breath, he hadn’t noticed any of that.

“jesus christ,” he mumbled against her lips, sending a shiver straight down to her toes, “can’t believe we can do this whenever we want forever.”

he had a point. it seemed surreal that she wouldn’t have to drive back to new york in a week, in three months -- ever again. ellie’s face split into a blinding grin. “i know. but we totally can.”

colt lifted one hand to her face, cupping her cheek. she held his gaze as he stroked his thumb softly across her skin, holding still while he studied her. not for the first time, she wondered what he was thinking -- it was always something, when he looked at her like that. 

“it’s gonna feel so fuckin’ good to finally fill you in on everything,” he said, his voice low. she nodded. “i can’t wait to see you behind the wheel again.”

“yeah?” she asked playfully, arching her eyebrows, “been thinking a lot about getting me in one of these fancy cars, huh?”

“not so much these,” colt smirked, “but other ones -- definitely. after this drop, there’s a plan i want your opinion on.”

“‘kay,” ellie answered agreeably, already leaning back in to catch his lips in another kiss. colt kept his hand on her steady and met her halfway, his teeth biting down on her bottom lip in a way that was a little sharper than strictly necessary; after so long without the firm pressure of his hands, his mouth, his body -- it felt incredible.

she twisted her fingers in his t-shirt, rocking her hips forward insistently again. the solid weight of him beneath her was, on its own, an out-of-this-world sensory experience; she’d imagined this moment dozens of times. when she was her most homesick and lonely at school, it was the only thing she could think about -- how he would sound when she jumped into his arms, the way he smelled, the sounds he made, the feeling of his lips against hers.

now that it was here it was almost overwhelming, especially since they had to work tonight, and they were short on time again. 

the noise level out in the garage was starting to rise, making it harder to ignore. colt sighed heavily as she started inching the hem of his t-shirt up, squeezing her bare thigh in his hand. his head flopped back against his desk chair.

“i want to take you apart,” he said. the focus in his voice made her mouth dry. it was a tone that, before now, had been reserved for the directions he’d give during a late-night striptease over her webcam. now it was something between a threat and a promise, pressing on her raw nerves just right, so that she smiled at him when he groaned and continued, “...after the drop.”

with one last pointed wiggle of her hips, ellie slid out of his lap and extended her hand to pull colt up, too. “come on, let’s see this mod.” 

a few members of the crew shot her knowing grins as they both made their way over to the car, ellie tugging her shorts back into place and colt smoothing a hand over his hair. in the corner of the room, raven was standing off to the side of the mclaren, waiting for colt’s approval. he stepped around her to open the driver’s side door for ellie and she slid inside, pretending like she knew what she was looking for. 

colt leaned in from where he was standing beside the open door with a grin. “it’s been tuned.”

“i know,” she answered defensively, running her hands along the steering wheel. “how fast is it now?”

raven was looking at her fingernails where she stood next to colt. she sounded almost bored when she shrugged, “zero to sixty in under two seconds. runs quarter miles in eight.”

her eyebrows arched high. “wow.”

“we did the tires, too.” colt’s eyes looked her over where she was sitting in the front seat, his gaze so heavy she could feel it along every inch of her body. “you impressed yet?”

“well...” already her pulse was picking up speed as she imagined getting the car out on the highway, putting it to its limits. “can i test it before i give my final verdict?”

raven beamed at her. “i was hoping you’d say that.” she pushed colt out of her way and ran around to the car’s passenger side.

“hey!” raven paid him absolutely no attention as she slipped into the other seat and buckled her seatbelt. “who said you were going with her?”

“come on, you’ll get to drive it later when you do the drop.” she gestured at herself where she was buckled in, “and i’m already here.”

ellie pulled the door shut, waving at colt through the open window as raven did the same. “we’ll be right back.”

as anticipated, the mclaren was fast enough to make her scream. the highway heading out of the city was empty so late in the day, and she wasted no time testing the engine, exhaling heavily as soon as the speedometer hit one-ten.

finally, it felt like she could breathe again.

there was absolutely nothing in the world that compared to this. away at college, she’d chased the adrenaline high that came with fast cars and danger and found nothing even remotely close -- this was exactly where she was meant to be. out here, with the world racing past her, it felt like she was herself again, instead of the person she had to pretend to be in front of her dad, her classmates at school, her professors. 

finally, she was free.

“so?” raven called over to her, the wind from the rolled down windows whipping her hair around her face, “how’d i do?”

“this is incredible,” ellie gushed, her shoulders relaxing back against the fancy leather seat. it seemed surreal to think about how the car they were in was worth more than ten times her college tuition -- so she tried not to. “colt is going to die when he tries it.”

“he’d better, he’s been a fucking tyrant lately.” out of her peripheral vision, she saw raven roll her eyes. ellie took the next exit, swiftly navigating the turn that’d take them back to the shop. “thank god you’re back. dealing with him since you left after spring break has been impossible.”

“come on, he can’t have been that bad.” though there was fondness in her voice, she was absolutely sure he had been that bad. ellie could see it in his eyes every time they spoke over a video call -- he was just as anxious for her to get back as she was to come back. 

he’d always handled her being away poorly, but with the end in sight, he’d definitely been... spiraling. like her, things for him only seemed to get worse as the date of her graduation drew closer.

raven snorted. “you don’t even believe yourself. whatever. trust me, we’re all thrilled to have you here full-time.”

everyone was standing around in the shop staring as she parked the mclaren and hopped out. “what’s the verdict?” colt asked when she came closer with the key fob.

“it’s crazy,” ellie praised, shooting him a genuine smile. “so fast. you’re going to love it.”

colt hummed, nodding at raven from over the car. “shame we have to give it to that rich prick grusk.”

a look of shock took over her face. “this car is for devon grusk?”

“yeah.” he sighed. “gotta take it all the way to hidden hills tonight. pain in the ass.”

“what does an old loser like devon grusk want with a car like this one, anyway?” jamie asked, leaning forward to place his elbows on the hood. raven reached over and shoved him off, and ellie watched his arms windmill for a moment before he regained his balance with a smirk. “he’s already married to a supermodel. can’t be about bagging chicks.”

“as long as he pays up, i don’t give a shit what he does with it.” colt wrapped his arm around her waist, and ellie leaned against his shoulder, her eyes still on the car. “good work, raven. ellie and i will do the drop tonight and tomorrow afternoon we’ll start talking about the fillmore job. just keep everything else moving until then.”

there were murmurs of assent as the crew nodded and walked away. ellie watched colt slip the key fob to the mclaren into his pocket, and once they were alone, she said, “you didn’t even check her work.”

he shrugged. his fingers tapped on her hip, pushing up underneath her shirt to get to her bare skin. “if she impressed you, it’s ‘cause it was perfect.” ellie stared at him. “come on. if we leave now we can stop for dinner.”

colt pulled the car back out of the garage, and ellie felt her mind start to wander. something inside of her was undeniably pleased by his trust and approval -- he had let her word on the car be final. in front of everyone.

he’d always promised her, voice low over the phone late at night, half-asleep in his bed at home, that when she came back they’d pick up right where they left off. that nothing between them was ever going to change.

it’d been a worry of hers while she was away at school that’d only worsened with time; ellie had assumed he’d grow tired of waiting or bored of her demands and decide being with her wasn’t worth all of this -- but he never did.

colt had handled her more gently than she’d ever expected him to. when things in new york got so bad she couldn’t stop crying every time she picked up the phone, he’d said ellie, i fucking swear to you you’re the only goddamn thing that’s ever on my mind. 

part of her hadn’t let herself believe him. part of her had been convinced she’d have to prove herself to him all over again. part of her felt like she didn’t deserve his trust after she’d left him behind...

but most of her was just really, really happy, warmed by his faith in her. 

he noticed. “why are you looking at me like that?”

she rolled onto her side in the passenger seat, wiggling closer. “because i love you.”

colt blinked. she wondered if the words would ever stop surprising him. he shook his head. “i’m so fucking glad you’re going to be here for the fillmore job. there’s no way it won’t be perfect with you driving.”

ellie reached for the hand he had on the gearshift and laced her fingers through his, dragging her thumb across the back of his knuckles. two of them were split but almost all the way healed, making her wonder what he’d punched and when. “delaney’s a good driver. i’m sure it’s not anything she wouldn’t have been able to handle.”

“yeah, but she’s not you.” that, she understood. while the rest of the crew was great in their own right, and certainly full of people they could depend upon, there was something comforting in working with colt -- in knowing that there was another person who had her back from every angle, who’d rather die himself than ever let anything happen to her. 

“well, i’m excited to drive again. but -- knowing you, i’m sure you’ve mapped a route that’s difficult for no reason.” the laugh he gave, and the boyish grin that accompanied it, let her know that -- like always -- she had him pegged. 

“it’s not that bad.”

“let’s see -- we’re going through fillmore, so i’ll bet i have to... hop train tracks at the very least.” she paused, waiting for his facial expression to give some indication of whether or not she was hot or cold. colt just kept smirking at the road. “detour through the mountains, of course.”

“of course,” he said flatly, and as she narrowed her eyes at him, she saw one corner of his mouth twitch.

“ha!” ellie crowed triumphantly, “i knew it. it’s so cliche.”

he rolled his eyes at her. “whatever. your handle on the turns will be better than delaney’s would have.”

ellie shot him an unimpressed look. "i can’t imagine why. you’re such a good teacher.” 

“hey, i showed you the basics,” he shot back defensively, “the rest of it you mastered out of sheer determination to prove me wrong. and if that’s what it takes to motivate them, then i’m all for it.”

“yeah, but i had a crush on you,” she reminded him, pausing to smile down at their joined hands on the gearshift, where colt was squeezing her fingers. “so we were like -- flirting. everyone else probably thinks you’re just being a dick.”

colt scoffed, smoothly pulling them off the road and into an in-n-out parking lot. “it’s not like we’re the girl scouts. i shouldn’t have to coddle them.”

ellie finally dropped his hand so he could shift the car into park, stretching her arms out in front of her as she grinned, “that point would be a lot more effective if you weren’t literally wearing one of the matching bracelets i made everyone last summer.” 

“if you don’t shut your mouth, i’m not buying you a cheeseburger,” colt threatened, shaking the sleeve of his jacket down over his wrist. 

she laughed, gently closing the car door and stepping outside into the parking lot. from two spaces over, a boy their age gaped at her as ellie pushed her sunglasses up into her hair. 

“sick car.” he nodded at her, something condescending lurking in the edges of his crooked smile. “a little girl like you drives that thing?”

“hey, keep your fucking eyes to yourself,” colt said, before she could answer. ellie pressed her lips together to stifle a smile, wrapping her arm around his waist as he drew close. 

colt must’ve been in a pretty good mood, because he let her eat most of his fries without much complaining, only shoving her hand away twice before letting her at them, staring fixedly at her from across the booth they’d claimed. one of his hands absently rubbed at her bare calf where her legs were thrown in his lap.

ellie pried the top off her empty soda to fish out an ice cube from inside the cup. “raven said you’ve been a giant asshole all month.”

“i was kind of hoping they’d stop tattling on me to you now that you’re home.” 

over the last four years, she’d received a truly impressive number of phone calls complaining about colt. they were always innocently free of specific details -- just in case -- but descriptive enough to make her smile. funnily enough, when everyone started arguing was usually when she got the most homesick.

plus, it was kind of nice that not a single member of the new crew was too afraid of colt to call him a sociopath with unrealistic expectations or a narcissist with a god complex, screeching the words to ellie over the phone with deep exasperation.

“you could always just stop doing things worth tattling over,” she suggested, dragging the last of his fries through the too-large pile of ketchup she’d made before popping them in her mouth.

colt huffed at her from across the table. his thumbs dug into the muscle of her calf, massaging her skin. “i wasn’t that bad. it’s not like i stabbed anyone.”

“okay, that is not a measure we’re going to go by.” as an answer, he pushed her legs out of his lap, waiting for her to stand before grabbing her hand to lead her back outside. “and it’s not like i don’t know how cranky you get when i’m not here.”

“i don’t get cranky,” he said, in a tone that definitely sounded cranky to her. “it’s just easier to work when you’re around. you’re obviously an asset to the team.”

yeah. in between her junior and senior year, when things were really starting to pick up for the new crew, he’d practically begged her not to go back to school. colt had been adamant, and it’d been tempting -- the intensity of his gaze when he’d glared at her in his dark bedroom and said we need you here was permanently burned into the back of her mind.

“what time is it?” she asked abruptly, squinting into the setting sun. 

“six-fifteen.”

“and what time is the drop?”

“seven.”

ellie’s hand hovered over the handle of the car door. she looked up and met colt’s eyes where he was standing on the other side of the mclaren by the driver’s side door. then she arched her eyebrows deliberately, a slow smile taking over her face.

he caught on immediately, his reaction time as quick as ever. “we’ll be late,” he said decisively, slamming the door behind him as he ducked back into the car. ellie followed with a giggle, only able to spare a glance at the tinted windows before colt yanked her into his lap, wedging her body between him and the steering wheel.

as soon as her knees hit the seat on either side of his hips, colt’s mouth was on hers, kissing her urgently. ellie fumbled on the side of the seat to push it back, and he bit down on her bottom lip as the back dropped out abruptly, laughing when she pulled away with a hiss. “careful,” she scolded, though she yanked his shirt up just as roughly, pushing the fabric up his chest.

“please.” his mouth kissed across her jaw while his hands worked on the front of her shorts, “i’ve been thinking about this all week. if we didn’t have somewhere to be i’d rip these stupid clothes right off of you.”

ellie shivered where his hands pulled at the front of her shorts, though her mouth curved into a smirk when she heard him say, “but, seriously, a button fly?”

she laughed, reaching one hand out to his cheek and tilting his face up for a kiss. it was only a matter of seconds before she lost herself in the incredible feeling of kissing him again, her breath stuttering when his fingers dipped unceremoniously under the waistband of her underwear. 

“shit, el,” colt murmured against her mouth as they pressed up between her legs with practiced ease, “if i’d known you were so hard up for it --”

“oh my god, you’re insufferable,” she gasped, fumbling between their bodies to try to undo his own jeans, “i could kill you.”

“you wouldn’t.” it was dark in the car, though she could still make out the infuriatingly smug slope of his smile when he leaned in closer. “i bet you’ve been wet since you first took the car out, huh?”

her breath caught as his thumb finally found her clit, and ellie grit her teeth, rocking her hips forward desperately. “seriously, they’ll never find your body.”

“such an attitude. i’m literally being so nice to you right now.” as though to punctuate his point, he pressed his thumb in more firmly, rubbing quick circles against her. she could’ve punched the arrogant expression clear off his face.

“we don’t have time for this,” she huffed, each word wavering with a moan, “just fuck me, it’s been --”

“too fucking long,” he agreed, brows pinching together when she reached in his briefs and pulled his cock out. ellie flushed all over as he looked her up and down. “christ, you’re stunning.”

she leaned in to kiss him again, sighing into his mouth. her hips shifted above him and they both groaned in tandem when she started to sink down into his lap, her breath catching as her hands gripped his jacket tightly for purchase.

colt’s hips rose to meet hers and she felt the whole car rock with the movement. a low whine left her throat when they got the angle just right and she shook above him, doing her very best to keep as quiet as possible.

colt had no such qualms about their privacy. “that’s it, baby,” he murmured, his fingers dipping between her legs again, “you don’t wanna let ‘em hear you?”

ellie could feel her whole face burn bright red with a blush. it was taking everything she had to remember to watch her elbows near the steering wheel and the horn behind her back. “colt.”

“this’s every day, now,” he continued, twisting his hips viciously, “just me and you, running the whole city --”

her lips pressed desperately against his to muffle her moans, each heated kiss making her dizzy. what he was describing had felt like a fantasy for so long: the two of them back in l.a., running the operation together with anything and everything they could want at their fingertips...

but it was here, now. it was reality.

everything went fuzzy and quiet as she came with a gasp, her hips stuttering against his. ellie’s fingers twisted in his jacket and pulled him close, only distantly registering the sound of colt cursing and pulling her into him and whispering her name. 

when she opened her eyes, he was already staring at her. the look on his face was familiar, and, not for the first time, she felt like he was staring down into her soul -- seeing a part of her that only he had ever noticed. 

her lips split with a sweet smile. “you’re amazing.”

colt laughed, shaking his head. then the look was gone, replaced with a more common fondness, though it was still something that only ever came out around her. “you should see what else i have planned.”

“can’t wait,” she sighed, leaving one last gentle kiss on his lips before flopping back into the passenger seat with a groan. “let’s go, i want to unload this thing and get home. i need a shower so bad.”

he cut her a look as he merged back onto the freeway. “if you think they’re not putting together a welcome home party for you right now, you’re out of your mind.”

fuck. he was probably right. “ugh. well -- i guess it’ll be nice to spend some time with everyone.”

the smirk on colt’s face was amused. “the car’s not bugged, you know. they can’t hear you.”

“it will be!” ellie laughed, “i missed all of them, too. and you’re gonna be all about the fillmore job tomorrow, we won’t get to have any fun.”

“we can make time for whatever you want,” he shrugged, glancing down at the directions on his phone before accelerating, shifting the car into the center lane to move around someone else. “you weren’t kidding about this thing, huh?”

she shook her head. “it’s really nice. raven did a great job. hey -- that reminds me. a girl i knew from school said her boyfriend’s been out here scouting for a ride. i told her we’d take a meeting.”

“okay,” colt said easily, “set it up. you can lead.”

again, she was stunned. he said the words effortlessly, and like before, his trust made her stomach squirm happily. she couldn’t remember the last time she’d ever felt so anxious in such a good way, warm all over like she had been the very first time he’d insisted he saw something else in her, in the street outside of riya’s house after he’d kissed the hell out of her. 

there was no denying how good it felt to be thought of as capable, especially by him. but colt had always seen her potential and raised the stakes to meet it. he’d trusted her with this piece of him that was so important she sometimes still wondered why, but... for whatever reason, he had. 

he still did.

unsurprisingly, devon grusk lived in a gated community. ellie was jolted from her own thoughts as colt slowed the car through a security checkpoint, and while he navigated them smoothly to the waiting mansion at the end of the road she checked her reflection in the mirror, sliding her shirt back into place. 

all billionaires were the same. ellie was reminded why they did what they did as soon as colt handed the keys over; devon grusk was a slimy, pompous, arrogant douchebag. she bit her tongue as hard as she could while he inspected the car from every angle, cracking stupid, irritating jokes as he did so.

from behind her fake smile, she thought, i’m glad we had sex in your car, even as she politely took the backpack stuffed with money from his hands. 

“god, that guy sucks,” ellie sighed while they waited for their rideshare, leaning her head on colt’s shoulder.

from beside her, he made an agreeable noise, rubbing her side where his arm was slung around her waist. “wanna know a secret?”

it seemed unlikely that whatever followed that question was going to be good, but she still said, “sure.”

colt’s mouth widened into an obnoxious grin. “we’re going to steal twenty million dollars from him next week.”

ellie pulled back to gape at him. “what? is that what the fillmore job is? did you tell everyone else?”

“yes and no. but they’ll be stoked. you know this guy still hunts big game? who does that?” 

a black honda civic pulled up to the curb. colt smiled charmingly at her as he reached out to open the backseat door. ellie rolled her eyes back at him and slid inside, murmuring a polite hello to their driver.

“don’t think we’re done talking about this,” she said, as he climbed in next to her and pulled the door shut.

he pulled her closer with a laugh, pressing on her side until she leaned her head on his shoulder again. “wouldn’t dream of it. how was your drive this morning, anyway? you never told me.”

she always called when she got to the hotel, after she was done driving, but today she’d gone straight to colt’s, so he’d missed her hour-long debrief. “it was okay. i didn’t sleep well last night.” 

ellie told him all about the hotel in nevada and the long drive back to l.a. without omitting a single detail. before she knew it, they were back at the garage, and it was dark -- the early summer sun had finally set. she yawned as they made their way back toward the side door.

“i can’t wait to wake up with you tomorrow morning,” she sighed, mentally setting a reminder to call her dad at some point, too. “i’ll kill jordan if he wakes us up before ten using that jackhammer again.”

colt grabbed her arm before she could walk inside, halting her steps on the sidewalk outside of the garage. “hey.”

ellie turned, looking up at him with her eyebrows arched. “hi?”

he was staring again. she bit back a shiver as his gaze seemed to reach from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, something unidentifiable in the dark depths of his eyes. “just wanted to get a good look at you here. pretty soon everyone in the city’s gonna know your name.”

she probably shouldn’t have liked that as much as she did. there were definitely... complications she’d put off thinking about for as long as possible that she couldn’t ignore forever, problems she’d have to address sooner or later. 

but for now... it was admittedly a little thrilling to think about running the show by colt’s side. something they’d only talked about for so long was finally coming to fruition.

and for the first time in as long as she could remember, she felt like herself again. she felt perfectly at peace -- happy and safe and adored and understood, by someone who knew what she was worth and never assumed any less. 

this was exactly where she was supposed to be. ellie shook her hair back off her shoulders, smiling. “well? how do i look?”

“picture perfect.” he leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of her head, squeezing her arm before grabbing her hand again. “come on, before they bust.”

true, everyone inside the garage was practically vibrating with excitement when she threw open the door. “surprise!” they screamed in unison, reenergizing her from her exhaustion while she made the appropriate wide-eyed faces they were all expecting.

“she’s faking,” raven declared, and then everyone went back to talking to each other, the music turned up loud again. ellie relaxed heavily against colt’s chest when he stepped up behind her and pressed his mouth to the dip of her shoulder at the base of her neck.

“welcome home,” he murmured into her ear, shifting to stand beside her, instead. 

ellie turned her head and shot him a smile that widened exponentially when she saw how he was looking at her, his eyes soft and fond and impossibly sweet where they met hers. she was finally able to identify the emotions she hadn’t been able to place earlier in the evening: relief, at the fact that she was finally back; pride, at the way she was already doing so well and all his while she did it; and happiness -- no explanation needed.

“it’s really good to be back,” she answered, squeezing his hand. 

it’d been less than eight hours, but already, she meant it.

[luninosity]

...okay! The first chapter of the Evanstan Autumn Fluff, aka A Place Not Far Away, is up on AO3 now! (aka: my favorite season is autumn and I desperately need some happy pumpkins-and-cider-and-hayrides fluff!)

In which it's time for the Evans Family Farm annual Harvest Festival, Sebastian Stan's here to do a story about it, and Chris Evans, like apple cider, is delicious.

Read chapter one on AO3 here! Teaser below (though you’ve probably seen this bit on here already!)

#

“He’s early!”

 The panic in his brother’s voice snags Chris’s attention. He tries to spin around and run that way and not drop the hand-painted sign he’s carrying, which means that, in rapid succession, the sign hits his toes, he nearly trips over a photogenically filled barrel of apples, he flails arms around to catch some flying fruit, and he says a word that the visiting reporter from New York City should definitely not hear him say.

 He yells, “Why is he early?” His toes throb.

 “I don’t know!” Scott drops out of the lower branches of the giant oak, rustling foliage. Decorative twinkly lights swing, having just been placed, but thankfully don’t fall. “I’m not an expert in telepathic communication with sexy New York reporters!”

 “Don’t call him sexy!”

 “Why not? He is. I Googled him. Hot and smart. And also here. Now.”

 “He’s a professional,” Chris grumbles, “and so are we. Act like it.” He glares at the sign—it proclaims Corn Maze This Way! in buoyant yellow and red lettering—and then at his younger brother. Neither target seems bothered. “Anyway, he probably doesn’t even want to be here. On assignment. For his big-name magazine. From New York.”

 “Bro, you make it sound like we’re small-town farmers.”

 “We are small-town farmers. Or everyone else is, anyway. I’m…never mind.” He eyes his boot. The dirt beneath it. The memories.

 Sunshine the color of New England autumn stretches over his shoulders, honey and pumpkin and cream. Orchards and wooden carts and antique pressing machines sprawl out along the low hill; the world’s decorated in sunflowers and piled-up knobby gourds and the drift of cider through the air. The afternoon’s low and sweet as drying hay and cinnamon sugar. The Harvest Festival officially opens tomorrow, the Evans Family Farm has hosted seasonal delight with roaring success for multiple generations, and award-winning travel reporter Sebastian Stan’s here to do a story on them.

 And it’s not Chris’s story. Not really, anyway.

 Unless the reporter wants that story. His gut twists. Could be the case. If that’s the angle. Has been before, though not for a few years.

 “Stop that.” Scott punches him in the bicep, not too lightly. “You’re one of us now. I know you know that, so quit thinking you’re not. You’ve memorized the history and brewed your own harvest ale and fucking learned woodworking. No one cares about whatever ancient hit teen movies you might’ve been in.”

 “Thanks.”

 “You know what I mean. Now come be friendly to the nice and definitely sexy reporter.” Scott pauses, head on one side. “Maybe I’m his type. Or maybe you’re his type. If he’s into the whole beards and flannel and muscles thing. He is into guys; he talked about being bisexual in that whole LGBTQ travel highlights series.”

 “I’m not going to sleep with a reporter!”

 “What if he wants to?”

 “Scott…” Chris gives up. Besides, he’s grateful almost beyond words: Scott’s standing there grinning at him, hands casually in pockets, hair dyed extra-gold by the sun, and Chris feels like the words might be true, like he might belong here, like the past doesn’t matter and the present’s full of affection and freshly-picked blackberries and laughing unserious possibilities.

 He says, “Where is he?”

 “Saw his car coming up the drive, so…by now…parked in the visitor lot?”

 “Why are we still talking—”

 They run that direction. The reporter’s no doubt looking around, taking everything in, all the details they haven’t quite finished because they’d thought they’d have the last couple hours of the day, the signs that aren’t up yet and the unfilled baskets sitting on the porch of the main shop and the wobbly second step—

 They slow down, panting, just before rounding the corner. Chris runs hands through his hair, cringes at his own sweat and dirt-scuffs and beard he’d meant to trim decently before the following day—his hair’s getting too long, he needs a haircut—

 For a split second, a half-second, he doesn’t exactly miss Hollywood stylists; the snap of emotion kicks him in the stomach. He hasn’t been that teenage star for over two decades, and he doesn’t miss it, not the stress and the pressure and the expectations and the performance, constant performance, on and off set, but—

 But what, he thinks; and shakes the thought away inside his head. He likes himself these days, mostly, most days. He’s not performing for anyone. Absolutely not just because the big-city reporter no doubt prefers stylish fashion and up-to-the-minute trends and people without a smudge of apple farm on one rolled-up shirt-sleeve.

 He makes his heart-rate calm down a little. Some breathing. Breathing’s nice.

 Scott peeks around the General Store’s cheerfully old-fashioned wooden corner. “He’s just standing there.”

 “Not trying to look at anything?”

 “I mean…he’s looking around, but…”

 Chris elbows his brother out of the way. Peeks for himself. And feels arrows of undiluted gold thump into his chest.

 Sebastian Stan the reporter is indeed there, leaning against his car—compact and practical but a luscious deep red—and framed by colorful tree-leaves and wooden fences, and he’s made of infinite legs and fluffy soft dark hair and sharp cheekbones and an elegant jawline. He’s wearing skinny jeans that cling to every inch of length, plus a blue knit sweater and a black leather jacket, and Chris can’t quite make out the color of his eyes but just then Sebastian tips his face up to the sun, basking in it, rays falling over his face, and Chris outright makes a sound.

 It’s not just the beauty. It’s the openness, the ease, the way Sebastian had glanced around with not hostility but real interest, and then decided to drink in and appreciate the sunshine like a happy kitten.

 A glorious long-legged kitten. With a lean waist and strong thighs that Chris’s hands ache to pet.

 “Well,” Scott says, with what must be the maximum amount of smugness seven words can hold, “guess we know he’s your type.”

 Chris opens his mouth to tell his brother exactly what to do to himself with an ear of corn, but freezes. Sebastian’s glanced their way. Must’ve heard a noise. Might’ve heard Scott. Which is never a good thing.

 Fuck. And other expletives. Okay. They’ll just have to…walk over there. Say hi. Apologize and beg for mercy, depending on how much Sebastian’s overheard.

 At this point Chris’s brain decides to play a high-speed daydream involving himself on his back, those fantastic legs straddling him, and his own voice begging for mercy. Fuck, again. He bangs his head against the wood of the building, gently.

 Sebastian, evidently having decided not to pursue the noise, has taken out a notebook. Is jotting something down. About the scents of cider and pumpkins, nutmeg and falling leaves and October ground? About the size and shape of the store, the barn, a tractor, some hay bales?

 Sebastian pauses. Looks up and around, smiles, scribbles something else.

  Chris takes a deep breath. He doesn’t know why Sebastian’s a day early; he wants to find out.

[revengeoftheantichrist]

What Kind of Man

Warnings: Possessive behaviour, forced feeding 

AO3  <<<Previous

Chapter 11: Performance 

You avoided dinner that night, choosing instead to go straight to bed. Your sickness and the letters giving you a headache. Before you slept, you placed some of the flowers in a vase on your nightstand, hoping to ward off whatever was in this house.

As you began to drift off, the covers were yanked off you, exposing you to the cool air.

“You are in no state to be refusing dinner!” scolded Michael. He stood in his robe, Mrs Mead behind him with a tray of food.

“I’m not hungry,” you said, attempting to reach for the covers. He turned to Mrs Mead, who handed him the tray and left you both alone. The smell of the food made your stomach grumble, but you still turned away when Michael brought the spoon to your mouth.

“Turn around and don’t be petulant.”

You rolled your eyes and refused to turn to him. You heard him huff before he forcefully turned your face to him. You refused to open your mouth, glaring at him. He had enough, pinching your nose so you’d be forced open your mouth to breath. Tears began to fall as you had to open your mouth. Michael shoved the hot spoon in your mouth, not letting the soup cool and burning your tongue.

“Now swallow like a good girl,” he ordered.

You closed your eyes and swallowed the burning liquid. Wincing as it reached your stomach.

“Now Y/N, you better have finished this bowl before I get back from my study, or else ill pour it down your throat. Do you understand?” he threatened.

You nodded and that was enough for him. He left you alone with the meal. You reluctantly began to eat, fearing what more could happen.

You pulled the covers over you after finishing your meal, not wanting to talk to Michael at all. He returned a few moments later, passing off the tray to Mrs Mead. You turned away from him as he crawled in beside you. He sighed and pulled you back against his chest, trapping you in his tight hold. Nothing was said as you drifted off.

////

You were sat at breakfast, picking at your food.

“I have some news,” Michael interrupted your train of thought. You looked up at him inquisitively.

“we will be going to see a play tomorrow evening,” he stated.

“Why?”

“Xavier Plympton’s play is having its final performance in the city nearby he is a good friend of mine. Your brother knows him. Some of the girls you met at Robichaux are part of the cast. There will be an afterparty here at the castle”

“Will Mallory be there?”

Michael looked at you like you were stupid, “Of course she will, she’s my primary beneficiary and their best performer.”

You just smiled and nodded.

////

The library must have held more answers. You had a few hours to look for more clues. At first you went to check the cavity you found last night, to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. It was still there along with the letters. The library must have been built with more. Instinct told you to go to the opposite end; hopefully someone appreciated symmetry when building it.

You were right, a little bit of pushing and the second alcove gave way. A similar box inside.

The handwriting was different on these envelopes. The wax seal had no crest. They were addressed to the USA.

You took a deep breath and unsealed the letter.

‘Dear Father,

It worries me that you haven’t replied to my letters. Is mother okay? Trevor? Our trip around Europe is coming to a close, yet Duncan seems more distant with me that ever before. I thought we’d become closer but there stills seems to be a gap. I always thought that it was rumour that the Shepherd dynasty was unwelcoming to their brides, but I know it’s true now. He’d rather spend the night in the streets than with me. I hope this doesn’t continue after the wedding. Our final destination is a ball some Count is holding. Apparently, his new wife is being introduced to society. I wonder if he loves her. Duncan speaks highly of his friend.

I hope this letter arrives and that you send me an answer for once

Love, Coco’

Why were Coco’s letters in your home? Why had they been left unsent? The was a simple folded piece of paper in the box, the same address as the letters before on one of the sides. You unfolded it to read its contents.

‘Please send a priest. Send some help. I have been trapped here. These men are beasts. They just sat and watched as the other’ The ink was smudged.

‘I have sent this with that sweet maid, reward her well. Please save me.’’

You reread the paper twice, before folding it and putting it back in the box. Coco never reached the States. You know that she didn’t get on that ferry back. The scream you heard that night must have been hers.

Whatever had happened to Madison, had happened to Coco. And it would happen to you too. The fact that the letter was given to a maid, but was in this box, meant that none of the staff could be trusted, not even the twins.

You put the box away and clicked the façade shut. Thinking about a way to get out of this castle before it became your coffin.

Your head began to spin as you left the library. You moved towards the garden to get some fresh air, but the sunlight made you recoil. Your eyes felt sensitive to the sun, making your head feel worse. You held onto the wall, trying to make your way to your room. Your mouth felt so dry, and your forehead was damp with sweat. You fell to the ground with a loud ‘thud’, the sound of running and a pair of fine leather shoes coming towards you the last thing you saw before your eyes snapped shut.

////

You woke to the sound of muffled voices. Your tried to make out the whispering, but the harder you concentrated, the more your ears rang. You groaned in pain and frustrating, alerting the room that you were awake.

You vision was blurry, but you were surrounded by Michael, Mrs Mead and Dr Montgomery. Michael was speaking to you, but his voice was still muffled, as if you had your head underwater. You tried to speak, but no words came out of your mouth.

Mrs Mead handed Michael a cup. He held you up and put it to your lip, making you drink the warm, sweet liquid down. You greedily drank, feeling better with each gulp, the fuzziness beginning to clear.

“Good evening Lady Langdon how are you feeling now?” asked Dr Montgomery.

You thought about your answer, squinting to focus on him, “a little… hazy still. My head has been hurting a lot recently,” you explained.

“Ah yes, Mrs Mead and the Count also explained your vomiting and fluctuating appetite.”

You nodded in response.

“It’s just a little bug, you must have caught it in Paris and the symptoms are developing now, but they should pass soon.”

He had lied to you again, you knew it.

He moved to check your temperature and the focus of your eyes. Giving you the clear and leaving a prescription with Mrs Mead.

“Make sure you follow the guidelines and keep your eating regular, even if you don’t want to,” with that he and Mrs Mead left, leaving you alone with Michael.

You just wanted to sleep again, resting your head back on the pillow. You heard Michael shuffling around before he got in beside you.

“You always worry me little dove, I thought you might have cracked your skull open with how loudly you fell,” his voice was soft.

“Where are you? You feel so far from me recently. Sometimes I feel like your somewhere else, like you’ve put your walls back up,” he ran his fingers through your hair.

“I’m just sick,” you sleepily murmured, not wanting him to see what you really were thinking.

He pulled your head to his chest with a sigh, “It will pass, I promise you it will pass.”

His actions and the softness of his voice lulled you to sleep.

////

Today was an exciting day for you, you had never seen a play before. Michael had let you see the ballroom get decorated for the party you would be hosting in the evening. You were in awe of the speed at which the staff worked. The hustle and bustle of the day took your mind off the mystery of your Husband. It could wait another day.

The opera house itself was stunning, having been partially funded by the Langdon family when it was first built. It seemed like Michael’s ancestors knew nothing other than living in excess. A tradition your husband seemed to have continued religiously.

The performance itself had you mesmerised. The dancers were oh so elegant. You saw now why Mallory earned her title. The writing of the play was phenomenal, making it clear that Mr Plympton was a Hawthorne alumnus; it had you sucked in from the first note. Michael however, had spent the evening staring at you and at Mallory, you had slapped his hand away from you one too many times.

You were allowed backstage at the end of the performance, presenting flowers to Mallory and Xavier long with drinks for the rest of the cast.

“So, this is the Countess? You are far too beautiful to be on the arm of my friend over here. I’m Xavier my Lady, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you,” Xavier said, kissing your hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too Mr Plympton, my husband has sung many praises about your work, now I can see why.”

“Oh, I sang many praises for him back in the day too, don’t you worry,” Xavier winked at Michael, the innuendo flying over your head.

Michael cleared his throat to interrupt the conversation, “I do believe we have a party to host tonight and we mustn’t be late.”

Everyone nodded and smiled in agreement, making their way to the waiting transport.

////

The party itself seemed wilder than the ball you held a month ago. That was high society. This was libertines and bohemians. Although an entertaining crowd to watch, not one you wanted to participate in. You had decided not to drink that night, not wanting to bring on another headache. You might have enjoyed yourself more if you had you thought.

“No wine tonight Lady Langdon?” asked Mallory.

You laughed and shook your head. You were standing on the balcony, overlooking the garden, the party in full swing behind you.

“I think I drank to much at the dinner hosted by Robichaux,” you replied.

It was her turn to giggle, “Oh yes I remember, I think you had a full bottle by the end of the night. I saw you roll your eyes and lose interest in that conversation. It was quite funny actually.”

You both looked at each other and laughed, thinking back to that night.

“Yes well, sometimes the count begins to speak, and I don’t really care for it, so I just stop listening.”

“I don’t think he’d be happy about that,” Mallory pointed out, taking a swig and finishing her glass.

“mmm happy about what,” Xavier slurred out, he wrapped his arms around Mallory’s waist and rested his chin on her head, his face was flush with a stupid grin plastered across it.

The sight of the pair drunkenly swaying brought a smile to your face. How nice its must have been, to not be subject to the rigid structures of the society you lived in. To be able to do whatever you wanted, without a care in the world. You wondered what type of woman you’d be if your upbringing wasn’t so strict or sheltered. Would you have confronted Michael? Would you have married him in the first place? You thought about it now. You never had the chance to say ‘no’. your father and brother had made all your life decisions up to this point. And now it seemed that Michael was doing the same. You wondered what freedom tasted like. Was it sweet? Did it have an aftertaste?

Your thoughts were interupped by Michael’s hands on your hips.

“What ahs you so deep in thought my love?”

You looked up to the stars, taking in the vastness of the night sky.

“Nothing really, maybe about our place in the universe. All the events that have led us to where we our now. Maybe fate or higher power,” you rambled.

“I think you might have enjoyed the philosophy lessons we had back at Hawthorne.”

“I care not for man of ages past, only the here and now,” you sighed again, leaning back onto Michael’s shoulder. “It’ll be a shame when winter comes. Such a beautiful garden will be barren for months. Almost as if it will never live again. But then, the spring comes, and it is reborn.”

“Life is a strange thing, there’s some things that are almost immortal, but we do not remember them. Then humans, mortal beings that leave their mark. Fascinating isn’t it? Michael mused.

You were interrupted by Xavier.

“We must get going. Mallory and the girls leave for Paris in the morning, so they must get to their lodgings and rest.”

You nodded and Michael and Xavier walked ahead, yourself and Mallory walking behind them, engaged in small talk.

You said your goodbyes and stayed behind to watch them leave and wave them off. The night had taken a toll on you, so you left for your room and retired for the night. You assumed Michael would spend the evening reminiscing with old friends and colleagues. So, you were surprised to see him already in bed.

You moved to go the dressing room to change, but you were stopped by Michael.

“You can undress here, in front of me.”

You looked at him as if he had grown two heads.

He just rolled his eyes, “I have seen it all before, don’t be shy now my love.”

Your cheeks heated up and you avoided eye contact with him as you shed your layers, finally leaving you in your under garments.

He curled his finger ins a ‘come hither’ motion, you slowly followed his command. He reached towards you and removed the final barriers, the chill causing goose bumps and your nipples to harden.

“Don’t just stand there, come on now,” he patted his lap. You climbed onto the bed, then onto his lap, where he wanted you.

You moaned lightly as you felt his stiff cock underneath you. His hand travelled up your sides, ticking the flesh. They finally reached you breasts, and you cried out at he began to tease your nipples. They had been sore and sensitive recently. He took a nipple into his mouth, noisily sucking on it. You threw your head back at the sensation. What a sight you were to him, moaning and mewling at the smallest of his touches. He gave the other nipple the same attention, before moving back with a wet ‘pop’.

“You’re so beautiful from up there.”

His hands moved to your hips again, lifting you and then slowly impaling you onto his cock, he couldn’t wait any longer.

You held onto his shoulders, your hips meeting every thrust. He pulled you into a searing kiss, capturing each other moans. You both came quickly. No matter what you thought about this man, or what he had done, you lust for him seemed to be paramount. His voice and his hands could make empires crumble, just like they did to you.

You collapsed onto his chest, exhausted from everything. No words were spoken as you drifted off.

////

Five days later, late in the afternoon, you had a visitor.

Madame Cordelia had come to visit.

Mallory had never made it home.

Next>>>

[crowbarstodd]

Course Of Nature (1)

Chapter Summary: The kids patrol together for the first time, and hey, nobody ends up dead so I’ll count that as a success! Rating: G Word Count: 1,737 Pairing: Daminette

Parts: Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four

Patrolling with Robin was akin to pulling out teeth. Until this evening, Marinette wasn’t sure she could be so irritated by someone who wasn’t Lila; even Chloe had never made her head reel or her face flush in sheer outrage as much as Robin.

So far in their patrol, he’d gone off on his own a total of four times, all without telling her where he was going, made a Carpace -- kind and for the most part relaxed, Nino -- stressed enough to  retire early for the night because of his attitude, and had insulted her so many times she stopped keeping count.

She was sick of it -- sick of him. He didn’t work well with others in the slightest, was arrogant and clearly had no respect for her as a hero.

But she was Ladybug, and Master Fu asked her to work with him, so for the time being, she’d suck it up and deal with the devil.

“You can step out of the shadows,” Marinette said in Robin’s general direction. She was jogging lightly, keeping her eyes firmly on the streets to check for danger. Paris sparkled at night, the ever-present glow both comforting and helpful, allowing her almost perfect vision when the sunset.

There was a faint tutting sound before Robin emerged from the darkness, scowl on his face. “It’ll be more effective if we have the element of surprise.” She wondered why he never smiled, especially when his fellow team member, Nightwing was a bag of laughs, at least according to Chat Noir.

Then again, Robin did work under Batman, and he seemed to communicate mostly through grunts… Did Robin even know how to smile at all?

“There’s nobody to surprise. Crime rates have been statistically proven to lower when heroes are in sight, and it’s good for public reception if we patrol out in the open.”

The biggest problem between herself and Robin, Marinette had come to realise; was that they were too different in their ways of being heroes.. While Robin valued mystery and darkness, Marinette understood the importance of visibility, accepting the responsibility that came with being more than just a symbol. The weight of being an idol on an impossibly high platform, constantly teetering over the edges, a second away from slipping. 

Robin believed that symbols were meant to stay as symbols. The less others knew, the more they wondered, the better. She could see the worth in his reasoning, but he was in Paris, not Gotham, and he needed to act like it.

Robin said nothing, simply releasing a grunt. The tips of his ears were red, illuminated by street lamps, and when he sped up so he was running ahead of her, he realised belatedly, that he might have been embarrassed by her easy correction. “Keep up!” He snapped.

He hadn’t bothered to turn around and check on her, if she’d slowed down because she was injured or distracted by something relevant he wouldn’t know until it was too late. He hardly looked at her at all the whole patrol. Briefly, she considered simply ditching him and running another direction, leaving him to patrol on his own.

A nudge at the back of her head, no doubt Tiki’s presence, warned her against that particular idea.

Instead of screaming or leaving like she wanted, Marinette resorted to rolling rolled her eyes. “It’s not a race, Robin.”

“Tt. You only say that because you’re losing.”

“Really now?”

Without warning, Marinette increased her pace, speeding past Robin and sailing over buildings with the agility and litheness granted to her by her miraculous. From behind her, she heard Robin release a swear as he tried to catch her. “Race you to the Eiffel tower!” She called, enjoying the way the wind whipped her hair back and whistled at her ears.

Sometimes, she had trouble believing that her identity hadn’t yet been discovered, especially when her lies were flimsy at best, and her disappearances all too convenient. But then, she would twirl effortlessly past hanging light features, and remember that her civilian self was an unusually clumsy mess, and she understood why nobody ever suspected her.

She raced Robin wordlessly; leaping from rooftop to rooftop, swinging over stray branches and ducking under street lamps. He was fast, she could admit, swift-footed, with a certain grace that came with years of practice, and just a dash of natural talent about his movements that most dancers would envy.

Marinette had none of that, but she could still admit her advantage. The miraculous was magic in that it hardly sapped at her energy — one of the many reasons why she was able to catch akuma’s and return to class a minute later without passing out when chemistry got too dry. It was easy to sprint at full speed when she knew she wouldn’t feel tired until she made it to the other side of the city.

She also knew Paris better, cutting through Alley’s, and knowing when to pass under instead of over. Robin seemed to realise this too, following closely after her, taking into account her short-cuts and easy-ways.

In the end, it came as a surprise to no-one, when she beat him to the Eiffel Tower.

She sat, legs dangling over the edge, waiting with a tongue out (she’s a very responsible and mature hero, really!) as her fellow hero landed beside her barely five seconds after.

“That was not an event test,” Robin said bitterly.

She had fully expected his comment, but found herself too surprised to come up with any witty retorts when he settled beside her. Sure, he was sitting at least three feet apart, but it was the warmest he’d been the whole night, so she’d take it.

Marinette held firmly onto the belief that there was goodness in everyone, and regardless of how demonic Robin was, she knew that even for someone like him, the rule stood.

So she did what she did best — what she was known to do as both Ladybug and Marinette. She held out an olive branch.

“True,” she admitted freely, relishing in the momentary surprise that painted his face, before his features quickly melted back into the same stoic expression he’d maintained the whole night. “But you never said there were rules…”

“Tt.” Robin’s eyes were blocked by the whites of his domino mask, but she could tell from the minute easing of his brows, and the way his jaw shifted, as if unclenching, that he found some amusement in her response.

Marinette was hardly the world’s leading expert in reading facial expressions, but well, Robin had an admittedly nice face (not nice enough to negate is asshole personality, just nice enough for her to be grateful he was an asshole. She was jelly around Adrien back when she used to like him, she did not intend to become distracted mush around her new partner just because he was nice and good looking. Luckily for her, he was only one of the two), and it seriously wasn’t her fault that lack of actual eyes to keep contact with as they spoke lead to her studying his features pretty often.

“I suppose you might have a point,” Robin relented. Marinate cheered internally. She knew he wasn’t completely heartless! “A rare occasion, it seems.” Okay, scratch that last thought.

Still, olive branches and second chances were her signature. “Well, special occasions need celebrating. Ice-Cream?”

Robin lifted his nose to the sky, sniffing a bit the same way he did when they first met. Wow, he looked like a total brat when he did that. “I don’t care for sweets.”

“That’s not a no,” she weaseled.

His chin tilted downward, just a tad, and he held his gaze on her face for just a second too long. “Hm,” he said at last.

“Great!” Marinate exclaimed, grabbing his wrist and tugging at it so he’d follow her. She let it go almost immediately, feeling a little stupid she’d done so in the first place — too used to the comforting and close partnership Chat offered — and promptly stepped off the tower, catching herself with her yoyo, and swinging herself to the next building.

She heard a clang, somewhere to her right, and watched as Robin followed after her, grapple hook presumably pulled out of the yellow utility belt around his waist.

Andrè was still awake, his little moving shop officially closing at twelve, knowing young couples often enjoyed their late-night rendezvouses. He smiled at her with familiar warmth, and gave them ice cream, predictably free (Andrè was well-liked amongst miraculous users for his free ice-cream, he was nice to Parisian heroes like that), though he did give them just a bowl to share rather than the usual two seperate cones. From the knowing wink he gave them, she figured he’d simply come to the wrong conclusion and accepted it.

Andrè’s ice-cream was divine. Today, he gifted herself and Robin a double-scoop of dark chocolate and red velvet, a simple gift compared to what he usually came up with, but Marinette was grateful nonetheless.

“Your uniform is too obnoxious,” Robin said over the bowl. He had taken the first bite once she’d settled it between them on the police-station roof, and hadn’t complained or made his little tutting sound, so she guessed that he was at least somewhat enjoying it.

She raised a brow at him, not quite in the mood to raise her hackles and start another fight between them. Well, he’d be starting the fight, really he always started the fights! And now he was saying her uniform was obnoxious? “My uniform is obnoxious?”

“Yes.”

“Robin you look like a walking traffic light.”

Robin’s head turned the other direction, clearly miffed at her insult. “The colours are part of the legacy,” he muttered, “have some respect. Most of the brightness is blocked by my cowl anyway.”

“Ladybug is a legacy too, bird-brain. The Ladybug is a symbol, it’s important that people see me.”

“The spots are gaudy nnngghhh!” He glared at her with crossed arms, spitting out the spoon she’d shoved in his mouth in a fashion that was rather dramatic.

“Better get used to them,” Marinette snarked, smirking at the sight of him with slightly puffed cheeks, furiously chewing at a mouthful of dark chocolate and red velvet. He was almost cute when he was quiet.

End Notes: whew first patrol?? And hey my kids don’t completely hate each other! They just really don’t want to be there lol. Look forward to the upcoming chapters where y’all will see more of supportive best friend Chat, and Marinette meeting Dami!

Taglist: @just-rant-and-write-fic-idea @kceedraws @mystery-5-5 @2sunchild2 @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @treebrosha @mooshoon

Feel free to ask me to add or remove you via dms, asks, or comments <3 

ALSO if anyone here reads “Filtered Lens” that’ll be updated tomorrow, I’m just trying to decide smth rn :)) 

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

Soul of the Kingdom

First part

Summary: Roman and Janus journey back and reclaim the kingdom from Remus.

Word Count: 2,729

Roceit can be read as platonic or romantic

Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @starlocked01​​ @spoopy-turtle​​ @lizluvscupcakes​ @far-too-many-fandoms-to-die

Roman stood, buckling his sword around his waist. “Janus, I know we should be getting to the castle today but is it really necessary to wear the full armor?”

Janus chuckled. “Why, it not fitting the way it used to?”

“No.” Roman pouted. “I just don’t see the point in alerting Remus to our arrival earlier than necessary.”

Janus moved around the rightful king, making sure everything fit right. “Half empty, half full doesn’t really matter. It’s a liquid, just drink it.” He muttered.

“What was that?”

“I said to count your blessings, kingling. Now, come on. We still have to get to the city by noon. If you are really that self-conscious about it, just put a cloak on.”

Roman did just that before they headed off. Just as Janus said, they arrived in the city by noon. Both had hoods up, Janus to hide his scales and Roman to hide his identity. As they walked through the streets, it was clear that the citizens were suffering. Clothing was threadbare, children were still and stared blankly instead of running amok in the streets. Beggars were on every street corner in a way Roman had never seen before. He had a hard time keeping his features schooled beneath the hood.

They approached a vendor and Roman went to pay the normal amount for the bread and cheese being provided. The woman almost cried. “It’s been a few years since I’ve seen that much money in one place, sir. You had best keep that purse well hidden or the street urchins might come after you.”

Roman smiled even as he pressed another coin into her hand. “Thank you for the sage advice. If I might trouble you for a bit more of your time, what happened here? A decade ago this was a flourishing kingdom. Now, it seems to barely be standing. Do you know of the events that lead to this?”

“You really don’t know what has happened?”

Roman shook his head, a sheepish smile crossing his face. “No, madam. I’m afraid I have been living under a literal rock for the past few years.”

She didn’t smile. “The firstborn son disappeared to fight a dragon. The ruling couple passed away upon hearing news of his death. Upon their death, the second son took the throne. King Remus has been ruling with an . . .” She leaned in conspiratorially. “An iron fist and then some. He squeezes the citizen dry of every coin they’ve got just to fund his lavish experiments. He keeps the population weak by forcing the men to serve a mandatory sentence in the fighting pits.” 

Roman nodded, sympathy beating in his heart for this woman. “I’m deeply sorry for what you have been put through. I will do everything in my power to make this right.”

Janus sighed from beside him. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Roman shook his head. “I will keep this one or I will die trying.” His voice was as hard as his sword, the determination bolstering it and giving it volume.

Janus nodded. “I do believe you might as well give up the sneak attack then.” He eyed a pair of guards that were coming their way.

Roman turned to follow Janus’ line of sight, moving to stand between the guards and the woman. Making a shooing motion with his hand behind him, he let the woman know it would be best for her to escape now. She took the advice and scurried away. The guards approached, faces masks of stone.

“Lower your hoods!” One said upon arriving.

Roman smirked and moved it just enough to mess with them without actually revealing his face. He cast his voice a few octaves lower than it already was, not wanting his voice to give him away. “What are your views on the current political climate?”

Janus elbowed him. “Ignore my friend, he was the village idiot.”

“Sure in a village of two.” Roman shot back.

The other guard held up her hand. “We serve the throne.”

Roman nodded, throwing his hood all the way off, blocking out Janus’ protests and claims of Roman’s idiocy. “Good. What if you were told I am the rightful heir to the throne.”

The first guard seemed taken aback as they blinked. “Do you have any proof of this?”

Roman sighed, hands going to his hips. “My face is literally identical to the current king’s. Is that proof enough?”

“Sorcery!” The female guard spat the word like it was a shard of glass in her mouth. “Tell us something only royalty would know.”

Roman sighed, hanging his head briefly before giving Janus a look that said can you believe these two. “Are you royalty?” They both shook their heads. “How can I prove something if you don’t even know the answer to that. I can answer it and it’s that the chandelier in the stairwell is very tempting to swing off no matter how old I get.”

The guards exchanged looks. “I mean, no random civilian normally sees that part of the castle so it makes sense.”

Janus sighed, leaning to mutter into Roman’s ear. “These two are idiots. Let’s just keep moving.”

Roman simply patted his arm and stood there, smile still on his face. It was almost ridiculous how easy it was to slip back into the polite mask of stone he hadn’t had to use for almost a decade. After another few minutes of deliberation, the guards reentered the conversation. “So, we have decided to trust you. How can we help, my liege?” They both bowed.

Roman nodded. “The first course of action would be to get into the castle. After that, we can try to turn the rest of the guard to me. With them, we can overthrow the tyrant who calls himself my brother.”

The guards nodded and began leading the way. “Well, that was easier than I thought it would be.” Janus said in a voice low enough that only Roman could hear it.

Roman laughed. “Justice always has a way of prevailing!”

They made their way into the castle easily enough. Soon, Roman realized a key thing but it was too late. Almost as soon as he realized that the guards were not, in fact, leading them toward the guard room or training ground, they were already arriving at the throne room.

Remus’ voice allowed them entry and Janus and Roman were delivered practically into his lap, much to his delight. Roman glared at the guards. “I thought you trusted me! I trusted you!”

Janus pinched his side. “You are not helping your case. Shut up and act your age.” He hissed into his ear.

Roman turned, unsheathing his sword as he ripped off his gauntlet, throwing it to the floor. The whole room went still as the gauntlet skittered across the ground before it came to rest at Remus’ feet. He snarled and looked down at it. “What is the meaning of this?”

Roman bared his teeth. “You know exactly what it is, brother.” He spat the word like a curse. “I challenge you to a fight to the death.”

Remus laughed. “You can’t be serious? You disappear to fight a dragon, have news of your death be brought back by the poor squire, kill our parents, and now you want to be back and take the throne like nothing happened? Come, now, Roman,” his name sounded sour coming from him, as if it had been too long since it had been said. “You honestly can’t be that naive?” He tilted his head as if the answer should be obvious.

Roman shook his head. “You have defiled the kingdom with your greed and hatred. I have had to come to stop you from continuing the destruction.”

Remus’ hands move down to his hips, one hand resting on the handle of his morning star. “We used to be so close, brother. Whatever happened to our bond?”

“You’re stalling for time. Either accept the challenge or turn it down like the coward you are.”

Remus snarled, goaded into snatching up the gauntlet. “Fine. But I get to pick the time and place.” He deliberated with the counselors around him for a minute. “The training yard. High noon tomorrow.”

Roman nodded. “I assume you are willing to house me and my companion for the night, correct?”

“Of course, brother.” His voice was as sickly sweet as honey. “I assume you still remember the way to your room? You will only be requiring one room, yes?”

Roman just nodded as he led Janus away, glaring at Remus over his shoulder until the door shut behind them. He found his room easily enough, having walked the same path for decades of his life. Janus let his cloak drop to the floor as soon as the door was closed behind them. “You could not have been more of an idiot today, Roman.”

Roman moved forward, cupping Janus’ cheeks in his hands. “I’ve finally found something to keep the fire inside me alive. If that means going to my death on some so called pointless venture then so be it.” He released the dragon witch as he spun around, hands gesturing at the room that was kept in the same condition he had left it in. “The only time I felt alive was on the battlefield or training ground before I met you. So,” He turned to Janus, hand held out, “Will you be my dragon?”

Janus chuckled. “So long as you be my knight. You know I would follow you to the ends of the earth.” He placed his hand in Roman’s and let him spin them around the room for a bit before insisting they go to sleep.

As they slept, Roman dreamt. Within the dream, his imagination granted him the chance to control his world. Using it, he puzzled out every outcome of the fight he knew would take place. He knew how Remus fought but Remus also knew how Roman fought. Roman had no idea if Remus had picked up different techniques but knew he himself had. He’d quickly adapted a whole different fighting style out of necessity while sparring with Janus. He knew how to sweep his leg in ways Remus would not see coming, knew how to change his speed and angle faster than the human eye could see. 

Confident he had the fight down and knew how to win, his dreams settled into memories of the old times, when his mother still smiled when he brought her his works, even though they were filled with cliches. The times when Remus was still willing to play with him in any game they could come up with. The time their father was willing to climb the tallest elm tree in the courtyard with them just to make sure they didn’t fall. If a tear slipped out in his sleep, neither commented on it the next morning.

Roman strapped himself into his armor, grabbing his sword and shield. Janus stood in front of him, handing him a piece of paper. Roman moved to unfold it but was stopped before he could. “Don’t. There is an ancient prayer written on it. In the case of your success and continued life, you are to open it and read it aloud. If you are to fail and die, it is to be buried with you, never to be opened. The prayer will guide you to the afterlife.”

“Why must I read it aloud if I live?” He stuffed it into a safe crevice in his chest plate.

“It is to release the prayer and the magic it comes with back to the earth.” Roman nodded and shifted to move away but Janus kept a firm hold on him. “Promise me one thing, my knight?”

Roman let his hand cover Janus’. “Anything, my dragon.”

“Do not go quietly into the night, but rage against the dying of the light. Don’t give up easily, fight against your death should it arrive to take you.”

Roman nodded, both ignoring the tears streaming down their cheeks. “I will try to find a way back to you, no matter the cost. I am an unstoppable force, remember?”

“Yes, but your brother seems to be an immovable object. Just be careful out there.”

“Always.” Before he could stop himself, he was heading out the door to the training ground. He stretched as he did before every spar session with Janus but didn’t practice. He simply sat on a bench in the shade and waited for the inevitable thought to hit him. The thought that must not have crossed the minds of many others in history. The thought that he had three outcomes for this. He could be killed by his own brother, he could be forced to kill his own brother, or he could exile the same brother. 

He took a deep breath, slipping into a familiar meditation that Janus had taught him a few years back. Before he knew it, a fist was knocking against his knee and he was jolted out of his meditation to be face to face with Remus. “Hiya, brother dear.” Remus grinned.

Roman nodded, not letting his composure slip. “Is it time already, Remus?”

Remus nodded, “Yep. Just like old times, ain’t it?”

Roman stood, hefting his sword into his hand. “As I recall, we were not trying to kill each other the last time we sparred.”

Remus hesitated. “Maybe you weren’t.” He swung his morning star in a wide, sweeping arc. 

They fell into battle stance and, at the sound of a horn, they began. They circled for a bit, sizing each other up and seeing how the body language has changed in the past decade. Diving forward, Remus, ever the impatient one, was the first to strike.

Being used to Janus’ tail swipes, Roman jumped the blow with ease as he landed an answering one on the top of Remus’ helmet. He spun, going over his brother’s back until they were facing and circling once again. Roman attacked in quick succession. He used his shield to block Remus’ next strike as he aimed for the unprotected side.

It went high and to the left, striking near Remus’ heart. He dropped to the ground, weapon falling out of his hand. Tears gathered in Roman’s eyes, obscuring his vision. “Remus, do you yield?”

Remus could only groan, even as Roman asked again in a choked voice. “Remus, do you yield?!”

A third time, it was a plea and a prayer, not a question. “Remus, please yield!” His sword was pointed at his brother’s neck, poised ready to plunge forward and end his misery if he did not yield.

After the third time Roman spoke, Remus responded. It was forced, and sounded more painful than anything Roman had ever heard, but it was an answer “Yes.”

Roman dropped his sword, reaching to cradle his younger brother in his arms, screaming for a doctor, screaming for Janus. Soon, the dragon witch was on the scene, magic crackling at his fingertips as he slammed his palms into Remus, knitting the torn flesh together but leaving a scar that went the whole way through the torso. Once the healing was complete, Janus sat back on his heels, exhaustion plaguing his every movement.

Roman reached out a hand to Janus, the other still holding the now unconscious Remus. “Thank you, my friend. Thank you.”

Janus only nodded. “The prayer.”

“Right!” Digging out the sheet of paper, Roman opened it and read aloud, voice ringing across the courtyard. “May the peace of the tallest mountain and the peace of the smallest stone be your peace. May the stillness of the stars watch over you. May the everlasting music of the wave lull you to rest.”

Janus sighed in the way Roman had come to associate with a release of magic back into the environment. 

Remus did not wake that day, nor the next. When he did wake, Roman had no choice but to banish him from the kingdom, never to return to the land of his birth. Remus was gone within the week. Janus and Roman transferred the hoard of treasure to the castle, using it to rebuild the kingdom and get the people back to prosperity.

Under the reign of King Roman, the kingdom of Initiomagna prospered for many years to come.

[the-siren-and-the-sailor]

    It is the middle of spring, and a party is in full swing at twilight. The setting sun creates a backdrop for the island where a glowing tent buzzes with music. Dancing silhouettes can be seen playing across the canvas; a husband and wife waltz, a group of women twirl in intricate patterns, and a man with hooves stamps his feet to the beat with the crowd. Every pairing imaginable is present for the festivities. Well... All except one.

   “We really shouldn’t be doing this...”

   “What are you, a pussy? Just help me with this.”

   “Mother and Father will be so upset!”

   “C’mon Enny, you know I don’t care. Now come and be my eyes already!”

   Tokos is, as per usual, staring ahead blankly, with the largest, dopiest grin known to man spread across his face. His brother Enoch, on the other hand, looks around worriedly, in part for the candle they sought, but mostly for their parents.

   “What’s the hold up? Your sunlight won’t stick around forever. We gotta do this, now or never!”

   As much as it pains him to admit it, Enoch, too, is curious. Their parents had always told them to stay away from the island cave, the one whose caverns were said to stretch far down underground, deep beneath the sea. They had never heard of anyone going in before, and in classic adolescent fashion, decided that they would be the first (well, Tokos decided, or so Enoch likes to tell himself).

   But at last, the candle is found, and Enoch’s hope of behaving properly- despite his brother, for once- quickly dwindles.

   “What’s it matter to you if we have light, anyway?”

   “It doesn’t. But it does to you, that’s why I timed the sunset just right, so you’d have plenty. And the candle will help you when we go further in. See how smart I am, Enny? Aren’t I a genius?”

   “Alright, Tokos, I get it. Can we just go now?”

   “After you, princess!”

   Enoch rolls his eyes and swats his brother on the head before making his way to the entrance of the cave. It looms before them, a foreboding gap in the hill that seems for all the world like a rite of passage, just waiting to be conquered. They arrive at it’s mouth and Enoch looks to his brother for reassurance, finding the same unseeing, milky grey eyes he’s always known. Both draw in deep breaths, take one another’s hands, and take their first steps into oblivion’s maw.

   Their steps are tentative at first, but they soon trek forward a little ways more, neither saying a thing. Enoch holds the candle low at his side out of a lack of need, until he realizes he isn’t anymore and is relying on it’s light alone to guide him.

   “Tokos, how far would you say we’ve gone by now?”

   “I dunno, further than anyone else ever has. Why?”

   “There’s no more sunlight. We must’ve been on a downward slope without realizing it...”

   “Well, do ya still have the candle?”

   “Well, yes, but-” Enoch stops and lets go of Tokos’ hand. What was this on the wall, here? “Tokos. Tokos, I’ve found something!”

   “What? What is it?” He sounds excited. 

   “It’s an inscription, carved into the rock. Not our language, but it is our letter system. I’ll try to read it...” Enoch struggles his way through the foreign words, doing his best to pronounce each one correctly. He slowly gets through each sentence, working his way through every word, before finally reaching the last one.

   But just as soon as he finishes, a strong gust of wind blows through the cave, snuffing out the light of the candle and leaving them in complete darkness. Enoch yelps in surprise, dropping the candle and grabbing Tokos’ hand.

   “What is it? What’s wrong?”

   “Didn’t you feel that wind? It smothered the flame, and now I can’t see a thing!”

   “Wow, that must be so hard for you.”

   “You said you needed me to be your eyes and I was!” Enoch’s voice raises in frustration. He huffs. “Now neither of us can see.”

   They quiet down after their moment of alarm, both rooted in place and thinking hard. An instant passes and Tokos sniffs the air and trudges his feet in place.

   “Well, I smell water up ahead, not dirt, so our backs must be facing the entrance. I also feel a bit of mud, so if we want out we’d have to go backwards until we feel dry ground again.”

   “Oh, now you want to leave? You’re the one who dragged us into this in the first place. Now we might not find our way out...”

   Tokos pulls his hand away from Enoch’s. “What are you talking about? I just told you a way! What, you don’t trust me?”

   “No, that’s not it! Besides, even if we do get out, Mother and Father will be furious. And, they’ll know it was you who wanted to go here from the start!”

   “And you who went along with me! Besides, ‘even if’? I’ve been getting around this way my whole life and now you doubt me? And anyways, name one time Mama and Papa have been cross with us.” There is now a trace of venom to Tokos’ words. “You’re just being a pussy again.”

   Before Enoch can quip back, however, he is stopped by a sound from deep within the cave. Not a sudden shriek, but a low, subtle, almost faint, guttural noise. The boys stop, stand still, and hold their breaths. The noise rumbles on for a time before slowing to a halt.

   “Tokos... what was that,” Enoch whispers to his brother.

   “Oh, now you want me to help you? Gimme a break,” Tokos’ voice is disdainful as he whispers back.

   “Tokos, what if we’re in actual danger?” Enoch’s voice is still frustrated, but now somewhat strained. “What if Father told us not to go in here because...”

   The sound returns and both boys strain their ears to try and identify it’s cause and location. It sounds distinctly wet, and is accompanied by a sound like rocks splashing into water.

   “Father must’ve wanted to keep us out of here for a reason... It must have something to do with the inscription. Maybe it’s a curse and we’ve summoned whatever evil it speaks of!”

   “That’s stupid. If there were a curse, we would’ve heard something about it by now. Now le-”

   “Exactly. Remember what the people in Mother’s stories said? Dead men tell no tales. They were trying to keep us out of here so we wouldn’t be next!”

   The noise once again rumbles through the cave, followed by the sound of rushing water. Enoch gulps before continuing to speak. “Okay, well... Let’s just keep our heads and-”

   “Hey, I’ve been keeping my head. You’re the one acting like a coward.”

   Enoch huffs again, ignoring his brother. “We should figure out what’s going on here. I know Father has said something-”

   “We need to get out of here, and I already told you how.”

   “You go ahead. I’m going to figure out what’s going on.”

   “You don’t know what’s in there. We have to stick together!”

   “Ha! I knew it. You’re showboating. Now look who’s being the coward!”

   “I’m not being a coward, I’m making sure you don’t do something stupid to screw me over while I leave.”

   “All I want is to find out more, I’m not gonna do anything!”

   “Yes, you will! You always do! And then your curiosity will end up getting me into more trouble!”

   “Excuse me, I’m the one who gets you in trouble? Just who pressured me into going in here in the first place?”

   The sound booms now, silencing them both. The boys suddenly feel freezing water touch their toes. They jump back, only to have the water rise to touch them again. But the sound once again slows to a grinding stop and the water stands still, allowing the boys to turn from their fear back to their anger.

   Tokos is the first to speak, his voice icy and quiet. “They say Father murdered his brother when they were young. Maybe I should do the same to you.”

   “How dare you! You insult Father and you insult me, too.  No wonder he prefers me over you!”

   “Mother and Father don’t play favorites and you know it!”

   “They do. They began to favor me the moment they saw you but you couldn’t see them,” Enoch spits back spitefully.

   “Well it’s not like I asked for this! It’s not like I asked to always be missing a piece of the world. And I certainly didn’t ask for pussies like you to keep on telling me that I need them! That I need you!”

   Enoch takes a breath to shout back, but stops short. He is quickly overcome by a wave of guilt and he hangs his head. The sound thunders past them again and the water now flows up around their ankles. Enoch thinks over everything that had just been said and feels a terrible remorse. Tokos is right after all, about everything.

   And they do need to leave.

   The sound quiets down some after a few minutes but doesn’t go away entirely. The water continues to creep up their legs as they continue to shuffle backwards. At last Enoch lets go of his pride and speaks up.

   “Alright. We’ll do it your way, okay? We’ll leave.” He almost has to shout to be heard over the sound.

   Tokos hesitates for a moment before grabbing his brother’s arm and begins to pull him backwards. “Now you realize,” he grumbles after a moment.

   They slowly wade their way through the now waist- deep water, speeding up their way as the water level lowers the further they go. Part way along, Enoch stops Tokos.

   “What?” Tokos’ voice is testy.

   Enoch hesitates. “Look, I’m... I’m sorry. I really am. I have no excuse. Will you forgive me?”

   Tokos hesitates and lets go of Enoch’s arm. It seems for a moment that he is going to run off and leave Enoch behind (or follow through on his earlier threat), but instead he sighs and takes Enoch’s hand instead.

   “I... I don’t know yet. Let’s just get out of here.”

   And get out they did. With Tokos’ expert guidance through the dark, they eventually find their way back to the entrance of the cave. They whoop and holler under the stars before quickly shushing each other for fear that the party is still going and someone would see them.

   But the party isn’t still going. In fact, the tent and everyone in it is gone, leaving only the embers of long-doused bonfire. Enoch looks around; the only life around is a few wandering goats. Nobody is in sight.

   “Where’d everybody go?”

   “Maybe they went back to the palace?”

   The boys look up to their city across the waters, and to the palace, their home, which sat high atop everything else. They stay in place for a moment before beginning their trek across the bridge and into the capital.

   Their walk is sullen and silent for a while, and they both simply listen to the sound of water dripping off their clothes. But after some time, Tokos decides to speak up.

   “What did you mean by curse?”

   “I don’t know. Maybe there is one, who knows? But you’re right. Father would’ve told us if something like that was going on. He’s told us about plenty of other things.”

   “Yeah,” Tokos pauses. “Sorry for threatening you. And for dragging you into all this in the first place.”

   “And I’m sorry for everything else. I shouldn’t have been so high and mighty, and I shouldn’t have insinuated you were less capable than everyone else, either.”

   “Well. Better blind than paralyzed.”

   Enoch chuckles. “Isn’t that kind of missing the point?”

   Tokos laughs in return. “Maybe. And anyway, that story about Papa is a load of dung anyway.”

   “Are you sure? Then why do we know about his siblings without actually knowing his siblings?”

   “I dunno, they probably just live really far away.”

   “That’s fair. Hey, what do you think that sound was anyway?”

   “Eh, probably the Scarlet King.”

   Enoch stumbles and stops. “Are you serious?"

   “Oh, sure, we were both getting pretty nervous. ‘Fear alone feeds the beast,’ remember? Makes sense to me.”

   “Uhh... You’re joking, right?”

   “Of course I’m joking! What are you, a pussy?”

   Enoch smiles. Unlike the last few times he has said it, Tokos’ voice has returned to it’s usual playful tone.

   “I forgive you, by the way.”

   “So do I.”

   The rest of their walk is peaceful, and they talk more along the way. That is, until, the palace doors come into view and their anxieties abruptly spike.

   “Well, guess we should start with the meeting room...”

   They slowly make their way there, making sure to stay out of sight of the servants and the guests, all the while whispering their plans to explain themselves.

   But these plans are quickly flattened as they approach the doors right as they were opened. A servant walked out and walked away, leaving the boys staring their shocked mother and father in the face. They stand like this for a moment, awkwardly shuffling in place as their parents looked at them in disbelief.

   This disbelief is soon suspended as they run around the table that they and a variety of maps had been situated at. Their mother quickly sweeps them into her arms, and their father soon follows.

   “Enoch! Tokos! Where have you been, are you hurt? What were you thinking!”

   “No, Mama, we’re not hurt. And, I, uh, dunno. We, uh...” Tokos’ hand searches for Enoch’s hand and swats it.

   Enoch takes the hint. “We, well... went in the cave.” Their parents share a look before Enoch continues. “It was Tokos’ idea to go in-”

   “Hey!”

   “-but I’m the one who made him stay.”

   The sharing of the blame doesn’t go unnoticed.

   “But you both got out safe, correct?” their father asks, eyeing their still soaked sandals and trousers.

   Both boys nod, and sheepishly tell of their misadventure.

   Their father sighs. “Boys, we told you not to go in there because it floods easily. That inscription you read is an old warning; it’s how we knew to keep you and everyone else out. Those sounds you heard were likely a sea wall collapsing and water rushing in.”

   This makes the boys feel rather stupid.

   “Are you sure you’re not hurt?” their mother says.

  “Nah. Now are you gonna throw us a party for being back or what?” Tokos grins his classic grin.

   “Actually, I was thinking something more along the lines of several restrictions,” their father says in a stern yet fond tone. The boys groan. “Now go take baths, both of you, and then it’s straight to bed.”

   The boys mumble their affirmations and begin shuffling off towards their rooms. 

   “Boys?”

   They turn around and run back into their parent’s arms. Their mother strokes their hair as their father rubs their backs.

   “It’s good to have you back.”

[fireteam-dauntless]

A Tale of Two Guardians XXXIII

Part I of the Destined Series Chapter 33 : Quiet Reverie

word count : 3.6K  masterlist | tag list : @mail-me-a-snail @basically-nacl @galagd @speed-boop @lady-efriyeet

Maverick walked me along the barren and well lit City streets.  It was later than I thought it was.  There were very few shops left open, and those that were open were either clubs or late-night restaurants.  Maverick kept his arm wrapped around my back and kept me close to his side.  I welcomed his comfort.  But when I looked up, I saw that we were already three blocks past my street.

“Mon chérie… where are we going?  My place is back that way.”

“Oh no, I’m not leaving you alone in your house.  You’re coming back home with me and you’re staying with me until we end this.”

“Until we end this?”  I looked at Maverick with shock.  “Maverick, I’m not even sure there’s an end in sight.”

“Well, lucky me, then.”  It was obvious by his tone he was teasing.  I pouted my lip in doubt as we walked up the stairs to his second floor apartment.  “Look, if you’re worried about protocol, don’t be.  I don’t like the idea of you being alone while all of this is going on, and the Vanguard… I’m pretty sure Cayde and Ikora would understand why we might be afraid.  Zavala is just Zavala, he doesn’t stray from protocol.  But he’ll suck it up.”

I fell silent as we walked inside the apartment.  Maverick let me in first, then followed up behind me and locked the door. He walked in and started his usual routine, taking off his armor, setting down his guns, and he almost immediately started to walk into his office, where he worked on his models.  Like his routine was so ingrained in him that he had no choice but to follow it.

I stood frozen in the doorway.  I could feel my heart racing and I rubbed my arms anxiously.  My mind was tired and exhausted, but every synapse in my brain was firing like lightning.  I slowly took a few steps forward and set down my weapons on the table.  My mind kept spacing in and out of focus.  Maverick must have gone into the bathroom when I wasn’t paying attention, because I heard the shower start running.  He came back out, in a t-shirt and sweats, and leaned against the wall.  

“I, uh… I thought you might want to clean up so I started the shower.”

I gave him a tentative smile.  “Thank you,”  I said softly.  “I’ll head in in just a minute.  I need to send my Ghost to my place to get some of my things, if I really am going to be hunkering down here for a while.”  I looked up and gave him a brighter smile, trying to be positive, but I was feigning joy.  Deep down, my stomach was filled with dread.  There was a faint voice in the back of my head, whispers conveying unintelligible words.

“It can wait for the morning, right?  We can even swing by if you want.  I got some spare clothes you can use here.”  He gave me a nod, then walked back down the hallway to his bedroom.  I slowly removed my armor, piece by piece, buckle by buckle, lace by lace.  Before Maverick could come back, I snuck into the bathroom and closed and locked the door.  I stripped out of my thermals, the spandex-like underclothes that all Human and Awoken Guardians had to wear under their armor to protect themselves from the harsh cold of space.  

At first, the heat of the water felt like it was burning my skin, but after a few seconds, the warmth immediately brought relaxation to my muscles.  I stayed under the water for a long time, letting my worried thoughts flow with the water down the drain.  Even still, I got flashbacks every time I had to close my eyes.  I scrubbed my body harshly, trying to get rid of the sticky Taken-gunk feeling that never left my skin.  

“Are you going to be okay, Guardian?”  My Ghost asked, her voice very heavy with concern.  “You’re still acting… strangely.”

I took a deep breath as I let the water wash away the soap.  “For once in my life, peu de lumiere, I’m honestly not sure.  Every time I start to get the slightest hope that everything’s going to be okay, Oryx snuffs it out.  I… I don’t think I’m going to be okay until we kill him.  Permanently.”

She didn’t respond to me.  I think my Ghost was unsettled by my harsh realistic ideology.  I didn’t even sound like myself.  I turned off the water and stood in the shower for a minute, I waited for the air to cool before I slid the curtain open and grabbed the towel.  It was warm and soft, like Maverick had it warmed up before he left it for me on the bathroom counter.  I took no time at all to dry off and got dressed.  I left the bathroom, hair still damp, and looked around for Maverick.  I walked aimlessly around the apartment, my hands running over furniture and picture frames.  I walked into his office, where Maverick was hunched over his desk, meticulously piecing something together.  I walked over to him slowly, then gently wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned against his back.  Maverick looked over his shoulder at me and smiled.  He placed his hand on my arm and squeezed gently.

“Everything okay?”  He asked quietly.  I nodded, but didn’t respond.  Nothing was truly OK, but here in this moment, I wanted to believe that I could have some semblance of peace here.  I closed my eyes and leaned against him, the exhaustion had started to make my muscles feel heavy.  Maverick pushed his chair back and stood slowly, but I kept my arms wrapped around him as he turned.  He picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist, and tightened my arms around his neck.

“Mm… I’m tired…” I mumbled quietly.  “But… I can’t keep my eyes closed…”

“I know, I know,”  Maverick whispered.  “I’ll be close the entire time, I promise.”  

Maverick set me down on the bed and I crawled under the covers.  I let myself collapse against the pillows and I looked up at Maverick, who sat on the edge of the bed.  I gave him a weary smile, then reached out and grasped tightly onto one of his hands. 

“Promise you won’t leave me,”  I asked quietly. 

“I promise.”

“Je t’aime, mon cherie,”  I said softly as I started to drift.

“I love you, too, Angel,” Maverick replied.  It was the last thing I heard before I fell asleep.

—————

I opened my eyes and found myself in darkness.  I was armorless, weaponless, Ghostless, but in my hands was my Light.  The only weapon I would ever need.  I let the Arc energy surge through my body and dance up my arms.  I saw a figure in the distance, a shape in the dark, and I found myself walking towards it, unable to stop myself, even as the pit in my stomach grew.  It didn’t even move, not even when I was right behind it.  I reached out slowly, heart pounding, and placed my hand on the figure's shoulder. The moment I touched it, it turned around.  My eyes widened. 

“Maverick?”  I asked.  He looked tired and the light in his eyes was dim.  “Maverick, what’s wrong, what’s wrong?!”  I grabbed onto his arms as he started to go down, and I fell to my knees beside him, supporting his upper body.  “No, no, no,  Maverick, please no…”  I looked down over his body; there was a gaping hole in his chest and hemosynth* bled out of him, soaking my hands and my robes.  My eyes filled with tears.  “What happened to you?”

He grabbed onto my shoulder and made me look at him.  “He’s coming,” he choked out.  “Run.”  It was the only thing he said before the light faded from his eyes.  I bit my lip and shut my eyes tightly to hold back tears.  I laid his body down slowly and with care, then pressed my lips on his forehead.

When I looked up, there was a large, looming, winged figure above me.  I knew it immediately.  I stood up slowly and held my head high as Oryx stood tall above me.  I let my arms, still tingling with Arc Light, fall to my side.   I rotated my palms forward and the Light surged through my entire body.

“You can’t escape me,”  Oryx said, though his voice was only in my mind.

“I will not let you take me,”  I said aloud firmly.  

He reached out towards me, his fist full of black fire, and just like that, all of my Light was siphoned from my body, replaced by a cold emptiness.  I barely managed to stay on my feet.  “You already have.”

When I looked down at my hands, they were white that faded into black, and covered in starlight.

—————

I shot upright out of my sleep, though I felt I was unable to make a sound. I was drenched in cold sweat and felt chills run across my entire body.  I looked down at my hands and much to my relief, my flesh was free of corruption.  I ran my hands through my hair and looked around.  The room was dark, except for a small light at Maverick’s desk in the corner.  Maverick was already walking over to me and took a seat on the bed in front of me.  

“Are you alright?”  He asked, his voice heavy with worry.

I nodded slowly.  “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine…  Just a bad dream…”

Maverick didn’t say anything more, just pulled me against his chest.  He smoothed a hand over my hair, a motion that never failed to calm me down.  My chills slowly subsided and I relaxed against him. 

“Maverick… I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to sleep until all of this is over.  Every time I close my eyes, Oryx is there, and I feel like I'm being Taken again.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I feel like he’s draining the Light out of my body until I can’t feel anything, until I can’t think, but I know what’s happening.  I know it’s complicated to explain, but Eris said not to let him in… And when I sleep I am at my most vulnerable.”  Maverick gazed out the window, like he was pondering something.  “What is it?” I asked softly. 

“I get that you don’t want to sleep,” he started to say.  “So… Do you want to walk around the City?  There’s some nice sights and some places around that are good to take refuge in if you want some peace and quiet.  Parks and things like that.”

I looked at him with my eyebrows raised and a half smile on my lips.  It was not like Maverick to be talking about sentimental places in the City.  “Okay, Maverick,”  I said and pushed the covers aside.  “Let me grab my boots.”  He smiled in response and got up from the bed.  “Ghost, can you get me a sweater from my place?”  I asked.

“I’ll be right back,” she responded, disappeared briefly,  then came back and my black and gold jacket appeared in my lap.  I laced up my boots and pulled on the jacket.  Maverick was already waiting for me by the door, dressed for the chilly weather.  I interlocked my arm with his and he led me out of the apartment.  Maverick locked up behind us, then led me down the stairs and we went into the night. 

The Sky gives, and that power will snuff you out… The Deep Takes… take from the Deep and you will be powerful.

“So… where are we going?”  I asked Maverick after we were a few blocks down.  The City lights were breathtaking.  I had grown used to the brightness of them, and sleeping was easier, but this curse was a whole new demon that was hard to face.  My mind kept slipping in and out of focus, and slipped out whenever the whispers came back.  And each time, the gentle squeeze of Maverick’s hand on mine brought me back to reality and silenced his voices.

I am not like you!

“Well… there is one place I had in mind,” he started, looking at me with worry.  I gave him a smile to quell his fears, and I noticed his composure physically relaxed.  “There’s a little park.  It’s a bit out of the way, but it’s on the edge of the city where there are trees, and a little pond… you can even see the stars from the ground.”

Your fellow Light Warrior took my Son!  You have taken my Vengeance!  And you will fall to the Deep!

Oryx’s voice echoed so loudly in my head that it caused a physical reaction.  I flinched and grabbed tightly onto Maverick’s hand.  

“Genesis, are you okay?!”  Maverick asked, his tone was alarmed with worry.  He placed his other hand under my elbow until I could get my bearings.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,”  I said after taking a few deep breaths.  “I… I think I might have to talk to Eris to get some advice on how to… manage this.”

“That might not be such a bad idea.” 

I looked at him and gave him a weary, but overall happy smile.  He smiled back and wrapped an arm around my back, pulling me safely to his side. We continued walking to the park Maverick had mentioned, and he was right.  It was very out of the way, almost on the other side of the City.  But when we did arrive, I was so glad we had made the trip.  It was a little pond, whose waters disappeared into a pipe that must have led outside of the walls.  There were benches scattered around the edge, and we picked a seat underneath the branches of an old Elm tree.  The leaves must have fallen a while back, and the barren branches gave way to the stars above.  I sighed out loud, letting go of the breath I had apparently been holding.

“Do many people know of this place?”  I asked curiously.

“No,”  Maverick said.  “Just a few guardians and a few locals.  I never really see anyone here at night though.  Anyone who finds this place… it’s like a secret, you know?  You find it, but you don’t tell anyone.”

I looked at him with a smile and with my eyebrows raised.  “Then didn’t you just tell the secret to me?” 

He looked at me with a smile, the mischievous look on his face made my heartbeat pick up.  “It can be our little secret.”

My cheeks flushed with blush and I smiled as I looked away.  He always knew exactly what to say to make my heart flutter and my stomach tie in knots, whether he realized it or not.  I looked down and closed my eyes as I nestled closer against his side.  His arm wrapped securely around my shoulder.  We sat in comfortable silence, Maverick’s eyes were closed and I watched the stars above me.

“I should take you on a tour around France,”  I said softly.  “There’s still some old Renaissance art at the Louvre in Paris, Château d'If in Marseille, and if you go back to Paris at nighttime, and sit atop the Arc de Triomphe, you can see all of the stars in the world… since the lights in the city are now few and far between.”

“I’d like that,” Maverick said quietly.  

After a few more minutes of silence, I stood up slowly and walked towards the pond.  “Ghost, how cold do you think that water is?”  I asked her.  She left my side and hovered over the pond for a moment.  I looked at Maverick with a half smile on my lips.

“It’s about 5℃, why?”  She asked as she flew back over to me.

“Oh no reason.  Just thinking about a late night swim.”  I looked over at Maverick with a teasing grin, then slid off my sweatshirt, boots, socks, and sweats.  I could see his body starting to stiffen a little, like he was getting flustered, and I let out a giddy, happy laugh.  And against the protests of my Ghost, I dove into the chilly water.  It stung my skin and sucked the air out of my lungs, but this was the closest to feeling like I had a semblance of normalcy in my mind.  All of my thoughts cleared as I sat under the water.  I didn’t have to breathe, my Ghost could cover that.

“Genesis, are you alright?” Dawn asked.

“Fine,” I replied, “just… clearing my head.  Looking for a bit of clarity.”

“You don’t normally go under water like this.”

“I’m not hearing his voice.  My mind is clear.  If this is what it takes for some quite… for some peace of  mind, then so be it.”

There was silence between us for a few minutes.  Dawn interrupted that silence.  “Maverick is getting a little worried about you up there.”

“Is he?”

“Um, yeah he is.”

“I should probably head back up then, right?”

“Please do, he won’t shut up about you to his Ghost.”

I shook my head and swam up, the air filling my lungs and a sigh left my lips. I wiped the water out of my eyes and pushed my hair back, and sure enough, there was Maverick, kneeling on the water’s edge, staring at me with relief. 

“Jeez, why’d you do that?!”  He exclaimed.  “You just jumped in and disappeared!”

“Sorry,” I said.  “I didn’t mean to worry you, but my head hasn’t been clearer since we got home than when I was under water.  I didn’t want to come back up.”  I moved over to the edge and reached up.  Maverick took my hand and started to help me out, but before he could get me out, I planted my feet on the wall, and pulled back with all of my strength.  The moment I did, I heard Maverick shout a curse right before we both plunged into the water.  I surfaced immediately and started laughing.  Maverick was none too pleased.  

“Really?  Really, Storm?”  Maverick grumbled.

“Yes!”  I giggled.  “Come on, your reaction was priceless!”  I wiped the water off my face as he turned around and started to walk back towards the edge, presumably to get out of the water.  I swam up behind him quickly, and wrapped my arms around him, locking him in place. He stopped trying to escape from me and seemed to accept that I wasn’t letting him out of the water.

“I hate this,” he muttered under his breath as he turned around and faced me.  He looked down at me and hesitantly placed his hands on my waist.  I could see the upset in his eyes and yet, there was a softer look of an emotion I couldn’t place. Maybe sorrow, maybe compassion?  All I could sense was the air of protection emanating from him as his grip settled firmly on my sides.

I smiled brightly and wrapped my arms around his neck.  “Well, I love it,” I teased.  “You need to loosen up a little more, you know.”  His gaze turned soft and he started to look away, but I put myself back in his line of sight  “Maverick?  Mon cherie, what’s wrong?”

He took a deep breath and met my gaze.  “Angel… my sweet angel…”  he reached up and brushed the hair off of my face, pulled me close against his chest, and I could feel myself melting into his embrace.  “I’m just… I’m worried about you.  About this.  About everything. Can you promise me something, Genesis?”

“Of course, anything.”

“If things ever start getting rough for you, or if his voice becomes too loud, promise me you’ll say something.  Don’t keep quiet about it.  I want to help you in any way I can, I want to protect you, but I can’t if you don’t let me…” 

I could feel my cheeks warming and I gently held the cool metal of his jaw.  “Okay,” I sighed and relented.  “I will, I promise.”

“Good,” he murmured, then leaned down and pressed his mouth piece against my lips.  I closed my eyes and kissed him back, my heart fluttering and my skin crawling with the pleasurable chills that ran down my spine.  This sense of electricity, this exhilaration I missed. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck and his arms lifted me up a bit, holding me tight and close.  We parted after a few moments in silence, our foreheads pressed against one another’s, and we exchanged a few soft, single kisses in the pond.  

“Can we get out of the pond now?”  He pleaded quietly.  “I still hate the water.”

I laughed softly and nodded, followed by a yawn.  “Of course,” I said.  We both climbed out and started to shake off the water. 

“You’re finally getting tired?”

“Yeah…” I started to pull on the sweats and sweatpants.  “I can feel the exhaustion creeping in again.”

“That’s good.  I can black out the apartment and you can get some sleep.”

“What do you mean?” I looked over at him as I pulled on my boots.

“Look,”  He pointed up towards the sky and sure enough, the sky was starting to lighten as the sun began to rise.  “It’s almost dawn.”

I yawned aloud as Maverick reached out and pulled me to my feet.  We walked home and, along the way, I could feel myself start to sway and my vision was going in and out of focus.  I was falling asleep on my feet.  The Exo noticed this, and he lifted me off my feet.  I clung to him and closed my eyes.  I fell asleep as he carried me back to his apartment.

As he carried me back home.

—————

*the term “hemosynth” was made by @mail-me-a-snail to describe the fluids that run through exo bodies.  it’s their form of blood, so to speak.

[yamithediaperdork]

Putting a brat in his place

Bakugo was less then happy as he stormed into the local drug store. Of course one could point out that the blond hero in training had a default setting of less then happy unless he was making someone else miserable, but this was a fouler mood then normal. the main problem for the wanna be hero was the fact that his bitch mother had gone out of town for the weekend leaving him alone (that in itself wasn't so bad, as things when easier without her around) but the problem stemmed from the text message she had sent him, telling him she had forgotten to get him his 'bed time pants' as she called them, and he needed to pick some up. His bed time pants were of course their not so subtle code word for his night time diapers, something he had needed since a training exercise had gone horribly wrong and he'd ended up blasting himself towards stupid Deku's fist while trying to get his balance. the end result had been a high impact of his boys on the dweeb's fist and it had taken half a week for him to get his day time control back (and even then had to monitor is fluid intakes) and he still hadn't manage to keep a bed dry in the 3 months since it had started. Adding in just how much he pissed in his sleep, Bakugo couldn't get by with anything close to discreet and his mother had taken delight in pointing out only the bulky thick diapers mean for teen babies (A growing crowd in the city) stood up to his punishment. As such he left it to her to go and buy the damn things, always dreading what awful stories she had to be telling about her widdle super soaker (a pet name she'd given him and he fucking hated it) He'd of gone to a different shop for the stupid things but the one his mother used was the furthest away from the school and best for avoiding any of the dweebs in his class seeing her with one of the over sized packages in her arms. As he stormed down the aisles heading for the diapers, he gave off a wave of malice powerful some of the customers backed away, and others were worried this was a prelude to some form of robbery. This wasn't helped when after looking around for 20 seconds in the deceptively large drug store, he reached for a young male clerk and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close to his face. "where are your fucking diapers? the big ones?" he asked. "I..I..I.." "Don't make me repeat myself!" "IN THE BACK PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!" The clerk cried out, a 24 year old twig of a man who would end up needing diapers himself for a week having nightmares about all of this. as he was dropped to the floor on his ass, the blond menace bent over and the clerk felt himself losing control of his bladder, sure that this was it and closed his eyes tight. "Thanks. here, use this and get yourself a pack." The clerk opened one eye and then the other, the blond was smiling and holding out some money. Sure that it was a trick, the young man scrambled out of his puddle and flew for a door marked employees only. "Sheesh. try and be nice.." Bakugo muttered then shrugged and headed for the back. Getting to the wall of diapers in the back, Bakugo felt his cheeks heating up those anyone who dared to try and look at him as he browsed got a glare powerful enough to send them running before he found the brand his mom usually got him, not as easy as it should of been since she made to have them in his underwear drawer by the time he got home. And he could see why. "Little stinkers delight?" He read, a eye twitching and fighting the urge to blast a hole in the wall. if it wasn't for the samples of the diapers next to them, he wouldn't of ever pegged it as being his brand but there it was, white with the the little chibi hero's in diapers fighting chibi villains in theirs. Picking up the pack he read the back, and realized why his mom always had a case of the giggles when he got diapered at night. 'Perfect for the big baby who wants to go boom boom or just soak in their tinkles, stinker's delight promises 24 hours protection from rashes, bad smells and leaks. let your little guy or gal stew in their smelly diaper and enjoy being the big baby they are.' "...I'm going to kill her when she gets home." Bakugo said, and yet he put the pack under his arm and stormed towards the check out. it wasn't that he wanted to wear the damn things, just he wasn't sure if they really were the best or if it was his mothers sick sense of humor at play. and beside, he didn't wanna blow his spending money getting a bunch of different diapers to try out. Thankfully his intimidating presence encouraged other shoppers to go back and look for a few other things, so they cleared up the line up for him and he made it to the clerk, a lady in her late forties. "Oh ho ho! Anther big cute baby! where's your mommy or daddy little one?" she asked, clearly not bothered by the malice he was putting out. "Cut the chatter, just sell me the fucking huggies." "tch, you kiss your mommy with that mouth? I have a good mind to spank your bottom for that!" The lady scolded and despite himself, Bakugo suddenly felt a lot of shame. "I uh..I just..I'm all by myself this weekend." He found himself saying. "And my mommy usually gets the diapers for me while I'm at school." Bakugo whined, and then his fucking THUMB found it's way into his mouth, him sucking on it and some drool leaking on his chin. "ohhh I see. Well I bet you're just grumpy you'll have to change your own diapies. I forgive you~" the lady said and suddenly Bakugo felt like his old self again. "...What the fu-" he started to say but the lady locked eyes with him again. "You youngsters aren't the only ones with quirks young man. and I don't like bullies like you scaring my employees. Now, I want you to be a good boy, stop taking your anger out on needing diapers out on others, and go home." popping his thumb out of his mouth Bakugo growled. "Who the FUCK do you think you ar-" "Why is it I always get the bratty ones in my store?" The lady signed. " I think I know who you are, your mother has told me a lot about you." the lady said, taking control again and Bakugo plopped on his butt on the floor, sitting cross legged and sucking on his thumb again. "When you see her on Monday tell her to come and pay for your diapies, and a few other things I'm adding to your bag." She called down, leaning over the counter before adding a package of pacifiers and a few sippy cups to a big plastic bag with his diapers in them. Bakugo tried to growl, to tell her off but popped his thumb out of his mouth instead and gave a small smile, before getting to his feet and accept the bag, then bowing. "I've locked you in 3 year old mode, with some exceptions. you'll be able to look after yourself if you have too, but will be drawn to find one of your friends to help you out. it'll last for 72 hours OR till you can stop being a mental brat for a hour..so I'm guessing 72 hours." the lady said then plastering a big smile on her face made a little shooing motion. "now you hurry home and get your diapies on before you have an accident!" "Yesh auntie. fank ku." Bakugo lisped back even as his face flushed, then bowing again he hurried out of the store. Try as he might, Bakugo couldn't seem to get full control of his body back, which meant he had started to skip, swinging the bag back and forth, while badly trying to whistle, just like he used to as a toddler. as he came up to a crosswalk he whined loudly and found himself looking around for a adult or big kid to help him across since mommy told him he wasn't allowed to cross those without her or someone helping him. 'Oh this is fucking bullshit! a big kid? I am a fucking big kid! the fuck am i doing!?!' Bakugo mentally ranted, figuring losing a few minutes of his clock wouldn't hurt too much in the long run. "Hey Bakugo! Wait up!" came a voice Bakugo knew, and mentally he groaned and swore while on the outside he smiled and turned to face Inasa. "Hiiii Inasa! How's you?" Bakugo asked, grinning ear to ear. "i'm glad your hear! I need help getting across the street!" the other boy paused for a second, not quite sure he had heard Bakugo right, then noted the back he was carrying which being a clear plastic bag, did nothing to hide the babyish items in it. "Uhhh..Ok. what's all this?" Inasa asked, smirking. "Oh! these are my diapies, and some paci;s and a sippy cup cuz auntie said I hafa big a little guy till I learn mah lesson, or 72 hours pass." Bakugo said cheerfully. "...heh. ok. Am I being pranked? who are you really? a shape shifter or something?" Inasa laughed and shook his head. "If Bakugo finds out what your doing he's gonna be mad so you be-" "Noooo it's really me! I was being a BUTT in da store getting mah bed time diapies and got a attuide adjustment!" Bakugo said, shaking his head then looking thoughtful, pulled out his wallet showing his school idea. 'Oh fuck my life!' Bakugo mentally groaned. "Ok..huh..well I mean.. did she hurt you or anything? Inasa asked, looking unsure of what to do. "Nope! just making me act like the 3 year old I am, minus, the meanie beanie parts!" Bakugo giggled and then blew a raspberry. "Sooo can you help me across the road? Pleasssssse?" he asked, bringing his hands together in a plea. 'Please say no please say no please say no plea-' Bakugo chanted in his head. "heh, I suppose so, Guess I better stick with you and make sure you're all safe." Inasa said and held out a hand for the little big boy. "Oh my gosh! that would be great! we can watch cartoons and play toys and everything!" Bakugo gushed and took the other boys hand. 'just fucking kill me now.' Bakugo thought. Getting back to his place had been quick and easy with Inasa using his quirk to speed things up and Bakugo despite his best mental efforts had giggled like a goofball the entire time, clapping his hands and asking for them to go again even as they landed in front of his apartment. "Maybe later little guy, i don't think the big you wants a bunch of people seeing you with all this little guy stuff." 'oh you fucking think!?!' By this point Bakugo had given up behaving himself and hoped that when he went to sleep that would count and he could just wake up and threaten Inasa to keep his fucking month shut, though he doubted he'd be that god damn lucky. as they came in Bakugo's bladder suddenly came to life and he started to do a potty pants, while holding onto Inasa "heh, gotta use the potty little guy?" Inasa asked. "yeah! Over there! help?" Bakugo asked, dancing in place and a hand on the front of his black jeans. "I dunno how to undo my jeans yet!" 'BULLSHIT! HOW THE FUCK WAS i GONNA GET OUT OF THESE PANTS OTHERWISE!?!' Bakugo ranted. "Ohhh I see. Ok." the other boy laughed, wishing he was brave enough to take pictures but it wasn't hard to picture Bakugo hunting him down once this was all over to get them back. Leading the squirming younger boy to the bathroom, he got Bakugo's jeans down and suppressed a laugh, wondering if Bakugo knew he was wearing training undies, the bulk and dino design on them gave them away. 'fucking leave fucking leave fucking leave!' Bakugo thought, of course today of all days he had humored his mother and wore the trainers. "Can you stay in here and make sure the toilet doesn't eat me?" Bakugo asked out loud, as he tugged his trainers down and then sat down on the potty, a hand going down to make sure his less then stellar member stayed pointed in the bowl as he started to go tinkle. "Pffft, why would the toilet eat you little guy?" "Momma told me bad boys who don't feed it enough get eaten so I try and give it lots but I tinkle my pants a lot and poop'em too sometimes." "Ooooh I see." Inasa said, his grin growing. "I'll stay here and protect you then. don't worry." 'I'm fucking nuking that old lady AND her show when this wears off.' Bakugo swore. After finishing up with piddle, Bakugo stayed on the bowel for a few and grunted, trying to make poopies but when it was clear it was a no go he slid off and dabbed at his hairless sex with some tissues then tossed them in the potty and flushed. "So are you naturally hairless or do you shave?" "oh! no hair down there. Momma said not all boys grow up at the same rate." "Ahhh. I think I understand why you're always so mad." Inasa said. this went over the little persona's head but mentally.. 'Oh fuck you and the horse you rode in on. fucking bastard!' "Ummm Mister Inasa?" Bakugo asked, his undies pulled up and having stepped out of the jeans. he was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet and poking his fingers together. "yeah Lil guy?" Inasa asked, having a feeling what the little guy was about to ask. "Could you mayyyybe help me get one of my diapies on? I don't wanna hafa bug you ta come in and protect me every time I need use the potty." Bakugo said, blushing and going from pointing his fingers together to rubbing the back of his head, looking sheepish. 'don't you fucking dare say yes!' Bakugo roared, positive that if nothing else, every telepathic quirk in a 30 block radius heard his cry. "of course I'll help you!" Inasa gushed and ruffled Bakugo's head. 'their never gonna find the body.' Bakugo promised himself, fuming. Getting the bulky diaper on Bakugo wasn't as hard as Inasa had feared it would be, though he had a feeling the only reason Bakugo was being good as gold was the effects of the quirk he was under. The little guy in attuide (and some parts of his body) had dashed off to his room while Inasa took out the items from the bag and opened up the pack of pacifiers and taken out one of the thick diapers. He'd been about to ask Bakugo what he was doing when the little guy came out with a teddy bear print changing pad and a yellow diaper shirt with a teddy bear head printed on the front. "Momma got me these ta make my diapering and stuff easier!" Bakugo giggled as he set them down, then tugged off his shirt showing no armpit or chest hair. "I see~ your momma is one smart cookie huh?" "UH-HUH!" 'My mother is a sick bitch who wants to shame me into stopping!' Bakugo fumed. Far too soon though his naked butt was resting on the thick white diaper, and then he was powdered (WAY too much, he was sure some of it was gonna fly out the sides when he farted!) then the stupid diaper shirt was snapped up. to finish off the look Inasa offered up a paci, one with a yellow mouth guard to match the diaper shirt of course and Bakugo happily took, nursing on it lots and sitting up, holding out his arms for uppies. '...Ok I have to be able to black out or something. I'll give up full control and everything for the full god damn time limit, just let me blank out.' He mentally pleaded, but at last, he was fully away as Inasa picked him up and put a arm under his his butt, letting him snuggle into him. 'Seriously, the fuck did i do to deserve this!?!' Bakugo whined mentally even as he giggled out loud. As his behavior in the store flashed though his mind he just sulked and tried to lose himself as Inasa carried him over to watch some cartoons. Inasa blushed a little as they sat on the couch. he'd always thought Bakugo could of been cute if he just would stop being such a grump all the time and well, this proved his point. As a toddler in a big boy body he was just SO freaking adorable. and that was before the little guy snuggled into his side, sucking away on his paci while they watched some cartoons that had been recorded on the DVR. "having fun?" Inasa asked, putting a arm around the Lil guy. Bakugo nodded his head and smiled behind his paci, though Inasa was sure that mentally, he was being called every name in the book. "You want a snack or something?" Bakugo shook his head now, and wrapped his arms around Inasa,making clear he was his snuggle buddy for at least a little longer. "Alright. just do me a little favor and give me a heads up before you go boom boom ok buddy?" Inasa asked, and ruffled Bakugo's hair. 'Code brown code brown! get me out of this fucking diaper and on the potty!' Bakugo mentally cried out, feeling the need growing. to his horror his body however just nodded and snuggled back in, either unaware or wanting to surprise Inasa. Bakugo of course wasn't a stranger to loading his diapers, at least in his sleep, it had happened often enough he knew the feeling and how to ID the smell by now. going in his diapers while awake, and on purpose however was NOT something he ever wanted to experience and he fought hard against the forces keeping him from controlling his own body to get a semblance of freedom back. Sucking hard on the paci, Bakugo started to grunt a little and Inasa looked down, smirking and knowing what the little guy was doing, or at least trying to do and debated on calling him out, but in the end decided to leave the naughty lil stinker to it, and just moved a hand down to the boys rump now and then, checking for signs of squishyness. As it turned out he needed of checked, as a muffled poot and a bunch of giggles from behind the paci let Inasa knock that the boy's efforts were paying off, still, as the farts came one after anther there was only a faint whiff of baby powder and then a fruity smell (the stinky smell protection from the diapers of course) and so he moved his hand down to check. Sure enough the bottom was puffing out and there was a squishy feel. "Bakugo, didn't I ask you for a heads up?" Inasa scolded lightly, but kept smirking. 'this is so fucking grosssssss!' the blond wailed in his mind. Bakugo on the outside however just put a little look of 'who me, and pointed at himself. "yes you you little diaper filler. Oh well, might as well keep going. not like you smell terrible..yet. I'm sure it'll be a sucker punch when i go to change you." Inasa laughed and Bakugo snuggled into him. 'This is gonna be a LONG fucking 3 days.' Bakugo whined, wishing he'd of just gotten his diapers without being a brat. The End