#some guy you used to work with who turns into muck every once in a while

[thetriggeredhappy]

(I love all of your writings) one of Scout's voice lines literally broke my heart. The one in the Birthday mode which said that no one came to his birthday :"((( the fact that he called everyone his best friends make it sadder. Can you write about that a little bit. I know that you have written about his birthday before but can you do one more pleaseeeeeee

birthday boy time

(warnings for alcohol mention, mention of violence, and injury)

-

“Happy birthday, lad,” Demo greeted, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed by. Scout lit up, calling back a greeting in return.

Call him a sap, but he hadn’t quite given up on having fun birthdays yet. He’d heard it a hundred times from most of the rest of the team, that you stop focusing so much on your birthday when you get older, but not this guy. Scout was determined to actually have a nice birthday.

That being said, he knew by then, after those first few years working with the team, that they had a bit of a history of not necessarily being 100% on board with doing a whole thing purely because someone was a year older, and he mostly settled for bugging some of the team into going out for drinks or ordering a bunch of pizza and playing board games, stuff like that. A hundred times more low-key than what he’d do if they were in Boston, but hey, he took what he could get, and it usually ruled anyways.

To be honest, he didn’t even really have plans that year. He’d said as much when he was asked earlier that week. It was the middle of the week, not all that close to the weekend, so going out with everyone was pretty much off the table, as was getting drunk considering they all had work the day after. He was gonna head into town and get himself a gift, that was most of his plan, maybe hang out with everyone later on too. He’d been saving his money for a while, a just-in-case fund that he’d been working on for a few years, a luxury he didn’t have growing up, and didn’t tend to spend much money on himself outside of snack food and Bonk and sometimes comic books or little things like that. It would be nice to get himself something he really liked. That alone was plenty of excitement. Not an adrenaline kind, just a regular, nice sort of thing.

Overall, he was honestly just thrilled that apparently everyone actually remembered this year, greeted all morning by similar casual “hey, happy birthday”s, including a particularly excited one from Pyro, who hugged him and spun him in a few circles outright. He had plenty of time next year to do some really sick birthday stuff, but overall, he was just gonna chill out, treat himself for once, and relax.

-

“Alright everyone,” the Engineer said grimly, half an hour previously, casting a look around the room. “Here’s the plan.”

The team minus their fastest member were all gathered around the debriefing table, and this time, rather than Miss Pauling with official orders or Soldier with the latest new strategy, it was the Engineer standing up front holding a piece of chalk.

“We’ve been over this, Toymaker, twice weekly all month,” Demo drawled, rolling his eye.

“I know that, but this is important,” he stressed.

“It is true,” Heavy rumbled, nodding solemnly. “This is big deal.”

“We can’t afford to let this one get mucked up considering our history,” the Engineer said firmly. “Every year it’s somethin’. This year we aren’t taking any chances, especially after that catastrophe last year.”

A groan from the team as they collectively remembered. A nod from the Engineer.

“We’re lucky Firebug was the one to ask why Scout was in the kitchen combing the cabinets and not one of us, otherwise he would’ve found out for sure. If he knew we all forgot his birthday, it would crush him,” he said emphatically. The team looked embarrassed as a whole, while Pyro looked particularly mortified. “And we can’t just buy the damn kid a few pizzas and hand him alcohol like that was the plan again this year.”

“Fortunately for all of you, I’ve been so generous as to look into a few things,” Spy piped in, pausing to take a drag from his cigarette.

“As if you won’t take any excuse to snoop,” Sniper mumbled, and was glared at.

“I resent that remark,” Spy scoffed. “Regardless. I happen to know that we’re in luck, and that Scout is planning to go into town for a short period of time this afternoon. For what purpose, I’m not sure. But it should mean we have plenty of time to set everything up.”

“I trust you all have gifts ready?” Medic asked, and received a general murmur of agreement, and made a check on the paper he had attached to a clipboard. “Ja, ja, that is good. Herr Demoman, Pyro, you are done with your baking?”

“Cake is baked, iced, and decorated,” Demo nodded, Pyro giving a thumbs up of agreement.

“Soldier, how are decorations?”

“Acquired and prepared for deployment!” Soldier barked, holding up a hand in salute.

“Doc, Heavy, you two were meant to run interference,” the Engineer said, and the two nodded. “With that not a worry, how about you help with the cooking and decorating?”

“Heavy can do this,” Heavy agreed, and Medic nodded as well, jotting down a few notes on his clipboard.

“And the snake was gonna help with anything that went wrong, and Sniper, you were gonna help with headed into town for anything we needed last minute,” the Engineer said, and received nods from the two of them.

“Do we need anything so far?” Sniper asked.

“No, we’re fine for now. And I’ve got my own setup handled,” the Engineer said, and nodded a few times to himself. “Alright. Sounds like we’re golden.”

“Ja, very good. Herr Spy, would you keep an eye on Scout and let the rest of us know when we can begin getting ready?” Medic asked.

“Obviously,” Spy said.

“Alright. Now go on, get, he’ll be wondering why we’re all running late, act natural,” the Engineer said, shooing them all from the conference room.

-

Later that day after battle was over, Spy dispersed news not long later that Scout had gotten changed into civvie clothes and gone into town on his bike, and they all leapt into action. Within half an hour, the decorations were ready, streamers and balloons in every direction, the table unfolded from their storage (only used when they needed to seat the entire team, which wasn’t often) and was set up with the cake, ready to have candles lit, the presents were stacked neatly, the Engineer had set up the new sound system he’d been working on (put into crunch time to have ready for the occasion), everything was set up and perfect. The only thing they still needed was Scout.

They settled in to wait, knowing town was a good twenty minutes away, thirty if he was headed to the better one. By the time he found everyone, Spy said that it had been about ten minutes, and they took around thirty to set everything up, meaning that Scout would probably be at least another ten minutes, maybe as much as half an hour. Spy would keep his eyes open and warn them when he came back, but in the meantime, they could relax while they waited.

In the meantime, Soldier and Demo attempted a few ‘finishing touches’ (putting party hats on his more docile raccoons and setting out some firecrackers and sparklers, respectively), and some of the other members of the team sat to play cards for a bit. Pyro, easily the most antsy, burned their way through the box of matches that sat waiting next to the cake one by one and started idly playing with their lighter when they ran out, occasionally lighting some of the extra candles.

Half an hour came and went. Forty minutes. Fifty. An hour.

They asked Spy if he had any word yet. The answer was no, and the visual of a few cigarette butts littered around Spy’s feet and a scowl.

The Engineer played a few song requests on the sound system. Soldier switched around party hats on the raccoons to better suit their personalities. Demo lit a sparkler and let it burn out. They switched card games.

At the two hour mark, the concern was starting to build in all of them. Maybe Scout went even further than any of them had expected. He hadn’t told any of them to wait up for him, to be fair. But he always told them outright if he wouldn’t be back for supper, and he hadn’t said anything, and should’ve been back by then. It was getting well into sundown.

“I am preparing to declare Scout as officially AWOL,” Soldier mumbled somewhere near the two/and-a-half hour mark, just a bit angrily, adjusting the party hat on Corporal Munch where it was crooked. Demo patted him on the shoulder to console him.

“He’ll get here when he gets here,” he assured, going back to fiddling with a party popper.

“Don’t waste those,” the Engineer warned. “And no queens, Go Fish.”

A groan from Medic. Demo shrugged. “We have some extra. Here, just to liven her up.”

He tugged the string on the popper, setting it off and sending a short shower of confetti onto Soldier, and that was where it all went wrong.

Corporal Munch, startled, made a little yelp-like noise and quickly clawed up Soldier’s chest, startled and attempting to escape. Soldier tried to grab on harder, but that just made the raccoon even more alarmed, and it rushed to clamor faster, digging claws in hard. Heads turned in time to see Soldier losing his grip and the animal rushing away towards the nearest enclosed, dim space, which just so happened to be the table Pyro was sitting at with the cake.

Pyro leapt up from their seat, battle instincts kicking in for a moment, and the movement startled the Corporal, who veered suddenly and crashed directly into one of the chairs, toppling it and the one directly next to it and making the entire table jerk.

Pyro, panicked, quickly grabbed the cake stand before it could fall over, dropping their lighter and the candle in their hand. The two things landed on the tablecloth, and by the time Pyro realized their mistake, they’d already lit the thin paper tablecloth on fire.

Shouting around the room as teammates attempted to leap into action, Pyro trying to save the cake from the fire first and foremost, Soldier attempting to catch the Corporal, who was only becoming more freaked out over time. Heavy moved to snatch up some of the other flammable items off of the table, but misjudged where Pyro was moving, and Pyro collided with him, the cake tumbling from the stand and directly across the both of them. The Corporal, entirely confused on the commotion, attempted to claw into the space under the cards table, making Medic yelp as his legs were torn into, Sniper rushing to try and catch the animal as well. Demo, having found the fire extinguisher, realized he was a bit late as he tried to put out the table, most of the tablecloth gone and the fire having spread across the streamers, and he tried to put out what he could, and it was only with the Engineer’s cry of dismay that he remembered, oh, right, those streamers were on top of that shiny new sound system, weren’t they. With a final puff, the ‘Happy Birthday’ sign went up in flames and was gone, and the team was left there in the wreckage.

Spy rounded the corner into the room, eyebrows furrowed from the commotion he’d heard. When he saw the smoking, foamy, cake-y remains, all he could do was sigh, kneading at the bridge of his nose. “Something new every year, is it?” he drawled.

-

It took them the better part of forty minutes to clean up the mess, and even then, the room had a weird smell to it. By the end of everything, all they had was one of the undecorated practice cakes Pyro had baked, some party hats, and some poppers. And by the time they were done cleaning up, Scout still hadn’t returned.

“At least he doesn’t have to see what a damn mess we made of things,” the Engineer sighed, and that seemed to be the consensus.

It was much later that Spy finally let them know that he’d seen the headlights of a motorcycle coming up the road, and the team just sighed, too tired to work up much energy. Some of them at least planned to call out a ‘happy birthday’ at him, but all they could do was stare when he walked into the room.

“Hey, guys,” Scout croaked, attempting a smile through a bruised lip.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sniper demanded, taking in the sight.

Scout was busted up in a number of different ways. What looked like a former bloody nose and a swollen lip seemed to be the worst of it, an amount of blood all down Scout’s front, staining what looked like one of his nicer civvie shirts beyond repair. There was also a dampness to his shirt and hair and a stain that implied he’d been splashed with something, practically drenched by the look of it, and he carried himself just slightly off-balance and held a bag in the arm not cradled to his abdomen.

Despite that, he managed a laugh, a lopsided grin. “Man, what the hell didn’t happen to me is more like it,” he said, shrugging. “Had a weird one.”

“Are you alright?” Medic demanded, already standing up, from his chair, and Scout shrugged again.

“Just bruises and all, it’s not an emergency or whatever, but I’d appreciate a heal or somethin’,” he admitted, and Medic left the room, hurrying towards the infirmary. “Forreal, though, what a fuckin’ night.”

“What’s on your shirt?” Spy asked, entirely deadpan, looking vaguely disgusted.

“Uh, I think it’s a margarita?” Scout said, glancing down at it and picking at his shirt vaguely. “I, uh, I should start from the top. Okay, so I went into town, right? I was just gonna buy some stuff real quick, and I got, uh… I got a little lost.”

“A little? Scooter, you’ve been gone all day!” the Engineer admonished.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. There was construction on the usual road, I think they’re fixin’ a bridge or somethin’. Anyways, I got pretty far off track, but I got to town eventually. Just took a while. Anyways, I do my shopping, but because I was all rattled from havin’ to take a hundred detours I totally forget that there’s this one guy at the store that hates my guts, and I’ve gotta split pretty fast before he knocks some teeth out, y’know?”

“Do we want to know why he hates you?” Demo asked, a bit of humor in his tone.

“Nope,” Scout said simply, grinning right back. “So, yeah, but on my way into town I saw at the bar they have some kinda thing goin’ on, right, some kinda weird drink special. So I figure, hey, I’ll walk in, get the new drink, then I’ll leave, y’know? I don’t wanna have to drive home after dark and drunk. So I order, and as soon as I order some guy who’s been at the bar too long already starts tryin’ to pick a fight with me, right? And it’s a whole thing, and I finally get my drink but now there’s a whole thing, and I kinda make this offhanded comment at this gal nearby, y’know, tryin’ to make sure he knows we’re in a public place, all ‘hey, you’re really gonna embarrass yourself by pick in’ fights right in front of this real pretty girl?’, right?”

“Oh no,” Sniper sighed, already seeing where this was going.

“Well, yeah, bad luck, turns out that’s his girlfriend, and he shoves me into some guy, and I get a whole drink all over me, and mine is all over some third gut, and this whole brawl breaks out—anyways, busted lip and no drink and I’m probably not allowed in that bar anymore, but whatever, I finally start headed home.”

“Right,” Spy said, suspicious.

“And, uh, I never wanna drive at night because there’s all these animals out here, right? And the roads are shitty. And I’m headed back, and it’s dark as dicks, and I think I see this rock and I try and go around it, but then the rock moves back in my way because it’s a lizard or whatever and I hit the breaks and swerve straight into a pothole and just barely manage to keep on my bike, but I donk myself on the handlebars and totally throw my leg out of wack and all that. And, uh, and now I’m here.”

“Christ alive,” the Engineer marvelled.

“Bad day to have,” Heavy said, also stunned.

“Hey, it’ll be a funny story to tell later,” Scout shrugged, still grinning. “Got those new shoes at least, though.”

He pulled a shoebox out of the paper bag, and the box was dented into some kind of new parallelogram, barely resembling its past shape. Scout, meanwhile, was still smiling.

Silence in the room. “Well. While it is unlikely you need any more excitement today,” Spy trailed hesitantly. Pyro, understanding the cue, leapt up and hurried off into the kitchen, coming back with the cake.

“Woah, seriously?” Scout asked, eyes lighting up. “You made me a cake? Mumbles, you’re the best!”

“We, uh… we had more planned, but, some things went a little wrong,” the Engineer admitted, and trailed off as well as he looked at Scout.

“Not that we get to complain,” Demo laughed, seeming to come to the same realization as the Engineer.

“Are you joking? This rules!” Scout said, and lit up further when Medic returned with his Medigun, shaking off his injuries within a few moments. “Hey, thanks guys, seriously, no idea what I did to get such cool teammates. You guys are awesome, I mean it.”

“Dunno how we got a bloke like you, either,” Sniper shrugged, voice quiet compared to the rest of them. “Not many people can laugh after a day like yours and still have the energy to be pleased with anyone.”

“Aw, hey, I mean… y’know, it’s nothing,” Scout shrugged sheepishly, glancing away for a second. “Hey, you guys are playin’ cards? Deal me in! Oh yeah, hold on, we need plates and stuff for cake—“

He dropped his bag near the door and hurried into the kitchen. The room was quiet behind him. Demo held up a party popper, glancing around the room. The Engineer took it from him, shaking his head.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #que? #my fanfiction #shut up me #everybody talks

[zealous-whispers-of-us-redux]

on hands and knees

(A/N: I have been planning a Bucky longfic off and on for two years. Idk if it will EVER be written or posted, but this is a little drabble. Inspired by Hozier's "Work Song.")

Summary: Bucky thinks of her and her God in the cavernous silence of war.

Sweetheart,

If I close my eyes and think about it hard enough, I can imagine that I’m back home, lying in bed with you next to me, looking so pretty that I don’t know what to do with myself. I had you in my bed for a week, and what I wouldn’t have given to have made it last the rest of my life. We didn’t do half of the things I promised all those months ago, but I don’t think it mattered much in the end. I had you for a week, and that’s all an unlucky guy like me could have asked for.

I couldn’t believe it when you were there waiting for me as casual and sweet as anything, like I didn’t just leave you days before. It was the best surprise that I could have asked for, seeing you again before I was dropped into this Hell.

The shelling was constant now. If you were one of the unlucky ones, you’d hear as bullets or shrapnel met their marks and brought down men, leaving nothing but a puddle of blood and a sharp yell that rang in your ears for minutes afterward.

It was here in his foxhole when Bucky found himself thinking of God. He’d never been particularly religious, mostly because he could not imagine why some guy in the sky would be so cruel as to make the sweetest people suffer the worst. When he was young, his Ma had tried her best to teach him the chants and the prayers. Steve also took him to Mass, and he helped his friend memorize Bible verses until they could recite them in their sleep. But it never truly resonated with him. Bucky couldn’t understand the point.

That is until he met his sweetheart. The very first picture she had sent him, she had been wearing a cross. Seven to Bucky's nine, they had become acquainted through a pen pal program. She began as Steve's pen pal, but that was the winter that he was sick and spent more time in bed than out. She had sent letter upon letter upon letter until Bucky got so tired of it that he responded himself. Bucky fell in love with a pretty girl at least once a day, so it was easy for him to love her, too. But never in a million years did he think they would meet face-to-face. He thought he was the luckiest bastard ever to exist when he found out her relative ran the camp he was supposed to train at. It was there, amidst the muck and mud of Camp McCoy, that Bucky found God in the taste of her secret kisses.

He thought of her in those rare moments of loud silence where the only thing you could do was wait until the shelling started up again and until the bombs rattled the ground. With every jingle of the lucky Saint Barbara medallion she had gifted him, Bucky thought of her, thought of the love of his life. The dirt under her fingernails, the quirk of her lips, the unruly curls in her hair. The slow way she spoke. She was soft lines and smudged nail polish with hair blowing in her face. A run in her stocking that got worse until she got a new pair. She grew up half-living on her uncle's farm, doing math problems in the dirt. When she visited Bucky in New York the week before he shipped out, she had only packed one dress.

It was still the best week of his life.

It was Coney Island and riding the Cyclone under the setting sun. It was sugary sweet kisses and twirls on the dance floor that left his toes hurting whenever she stepped on them. It was necking in alleyways on the way home from the movies, a proposal that led to them falling into bed together. Though they hadn't been together face-to-face long, Bucky had known her all of his life. They were planning a wedding for when he returned.

Dawn was quickly rising around them as Bucky sighed sadly, itching to return to his favorite dream. He wanted this horrible war to be over. He wanted to take a real bath, have a delicious meal, and then go to sleep in a real bed with a real woman curled around him. She slept like the dead, Bucky remembered. Nothing roused her, not even the noisy streets of Brooklyn.

He pulled out a letter she’d written him ages ago after she turned down his first proposal. It was crinkled and barely legible under the fading light, but Bucky had the words memorized. He traced the edges with a careful thumb, imagining her huddled over at a desk and taking ages to figure out what she wanted to say. He smiled as he began to read:

Bucky,

I am not as good with words as you are. I hope you aren’t too sore at me because I have some explaining to do, and I want you to hear it. I am sorry it took so long.

War is in my family’s blood. My grandad fought in Puerto Rico, my great-grandpa down South. My papa and his brother were involved in the Great War, although their experiences were vastly different. My papa says his little brother got the brains of the family, which is why he joined the QMC. War didn’t touch him there, not really. He can still talk about his experiences with delight, his eyes lighting up whenever someone asks him about his heroism. Then he takes one look at my papa, at his leg that ends above the knee, and goes silent. No one asks Papa what he saw. We know better. I never knew him as he was before the trenches. Mama always talks about how right after he came home, she would catch him standing in the corner of their bedroom in the middle of the night. He would stare at the wall and talk to himself. What he saw at night, she never knew, and he never remembered it the next morning.

When I talk to him about it, he tells me little. He always says that he doesn’t believe in much anymore, but he believes in love. God leaves you in war, and my mama was the one who helped him find his way out of the trenches. I know that I am not one for taking risks, and I know that I am quite dull compared to what you’re used to, but I am like my papa. I believe in war, and I believe in love. We could be bombed by the Germans tomorrow, and you would never know how I felt. And I am sick to death of hanging my toes over the edge and waiting for the courage to jump. My mama and papa fell in love through letters. I suppose we did, too.

I hope you come back to me, sheik. But if you don't, we'll always have McCoy.

Tucking the letter back in his pocket, Bucky sniffled. It stank out here. Blood and dirt and gunpowder and sweat and smoke coated his lungs. The perfume she had sprayed on her letter had faded long ago. He wanted to feel clean again. He felt a pang in his chest as he looked down at his fingernails, dirtier than hers would ever be, and hoped he would get out of this alive and make his way home to her.

“Barnes!” someone shouted for him.

He stood up. The war was due to erupt any second now.

#bucky x reader #1940s!bucky #angst

[mrslilyrogers]

Fall into Love

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader 

Warnings: Awkward and cute reader ahead! Nothing but sweet and soft fluff :)

Summary: What’s an awkward scientist like you gotta do when you develop a crush on America’s national treasure, Captain America? Recruited by Bruce and Tony themselves to work at the Avengers Compound, you try your best to keep your cool. But how could you when Steve is always popping up to help you?

Author’s notes: It’s my birthday today!! Yay!! And to celebrate, I want to share this super fluffy piece I wrote for @hopingforbarnes​​ 250 writing challenge. Thanks for letting me participate!  I got the prompt, “This is why I fell in love with you” which will be in bold below. I absolutely loved writing this and being a fan of chick flicks, I went with that vibe. I hope you guys enjoy and please, let me know what you think! Reblogs are very much appreciated :D

There he was sipping his cup of coffee, one hand holding today’s newspaper as he read. You thought it was beyond adorable that he insisted on getting actual newspapers delivered to the compound when he could literally read it from a tablet. You even offered to install the apps for him but he declined, saying he was too old for it. And in that moment you just knew, with his winsome smile and his deep blue eyes, you were utterly done for. So there you were, surreptitiously stealing doe-eyed glances at him from your perch by the kitchen counter, your laptop propped up on the island. His eyebrows were knitted as he brought the newspaper down, jotting his answers for the crossword puzzle. When he beamed at himself, you knew he got it right. Cute, so damn cute. 

“Ugh,” you groaned at your own patheticness. When his head shot up to look at you, you immediately cleared your throat and looked to your laptop, ignoring the heat creeping up your cheeks. 

“Y/N, you okay there?” Steve asked, pencil in mid-air.

“Yep, just working on something!” You replied a little too cheerfully, your gaze not quite able to hold his. You were always this way with him, tongue-tied, flustered and all fidgety. It was embarrassing.

Come on, Y/N, pull yourself together! You have two PhDs under the age of 30. Unfortunately, that was also probably one of the reasons why you were so freakin’ awkward but you really didn’t have to dwell on that now. Shaking off that snide little comment from the back of your mind, you continued your pep talk. You’re a badass scientist, graduated at the top of your class, and working with the Tony Stark and the Bruce Banner, your freakin’ childhood heroes! He’s just a 100 year old man! You’ve got this. 

You looked at him with a bright smile on your face, straightening your back to make yourself seem taller. More Confident. Mature. Womanly. Typing into your laptop, you pretended you were in the midst of a scientific research that would change the world. Except, it came up empty, the screen completely and irrevocably black. Oh, shit. 

“Ugh, Y/N. I think your laptop is turned off,” Steve awkwardly told you, pointing at it with the pencil in his hand. 

“Oh, yeah. Well, uhm, yeah it is… so, ugh, gotta go and charge this,” You flashed him a quick smile before you scrambled to your feet, your chair creaking as you pushed it back, grabbed your laptop and ran out of there as fast as you could. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Steve watched you, a perplexed look on his face. When you nearly stumbled out the door, he almost got up to help except you shot up faster than a speeding bullet. An adoring smile crept up his lips. Cute.

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

It wasn’t always like that. It all started when the science geniuses offered an advanced intensive program at the university where you were finishing your second doctorate degree. It meant extra work and more late nights but you didn’t even think of that, you had jumped at the chance from the second you heard of it and the rest was history. You aced their classes with flying colors and by the time you graduated, they had already offered you a full-time position at the Avengers compound, to assist them with whatever scientific endeavor they needed. You would become their resident biochemist/engineering physicist, equipped with your very own office and given free reign to create, tinker or even upgrade their weapons and computer systems. 

What you didn’t expect was how cozy living in the Avengers Compound would be. You thought they were a bunch of stuffy soldiers and spies with no time to deal with regular people like you. But as soon as you were introduced to the team, that all changed. 

They had all been in the common area when you first arrived. The men along with Nat were huddled at the TV, concentrating on some sports game as they drank their beers while Wanda and Vision were laughing and cooking in the kitchen. It was all so surreal, your jaw had dropped to the floor. Who knew the Avengers could be so domestic?

“You’re starting to drool, kid,” Tony commented at your side, immediately stopping you from staring. You mumble out a sheepish apology, your cheeks starting to flush. He flashed a smile at you before turning his attention to the team, “Everyone, listen up,” he shouted at them, clapping his hands twice before continuing, “This is our newest scientist, Y/N! She’ll be working with me and Bruce mostly, helping us with weapons and equipment so be nice! Piss her off and you’re toast,” he teased, winking at you. You didn’t think you could get any redder than you were at that moment. You let out a nervous chuckle, giving a little wave to everyone,

“Hi! Don’t worry, I won’t do that. I don’t think I can even if I wanted to, look at all of you!” you joked and looking at their smirks and empty faces, you realized just how inappropriate that was. 

“Not that I would want to of course! I mean, who would wanna kill the Avengers?” you continued to your own mortification, your mouth running on its own. You could feel prickly sweat down your back and you suddenly wished there was a hole that would just swallow you right that instant. Letting out a huge exhale, you tried again. 

“Uhm, what I mean to say is that I’m very happy to be meeting all of you and I’m glad that I’m given a chance to work here and help in any way that I can.” you finished sincerely albeit sheepishly, shifting your weight between your feet and hoping you didn’t totally muck up their first impression of you. 

Black Widow’s narrowed eyes eased up, arms still crossed at her chest, she gave you a little tilt to her chin as she smirked, “You’re adorable,” 

You let out a huge sigh, beaming at everyone. Captain America nodded at you as if to say ‘well done’, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Damn, if that man didn’t spell out dreamy. 

Tony finished the introductions and once you’ve shaken everyone’s hand, he was already moving, directing you to your designated room to drop off your bags so you guys could finish off your tour early and get to work. You were just about to carry your duffle bags, ready to drag your suitcase across their pristine marble floor when Captain America appeared by your side, “Hey, you need some help with those?” he asked, looking at your luggages. You had almost completely blanked when he stood so close to you. You could hear Tony’s voice getting softer and softer as he walked ahead, talking as he went. You nodded, not able to find the voice to speak. When he draped both duffel bags over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing, and pulled the handle of your suitcase higher, you objected,  “Let me at least get that,” you tried to grab your suitcase from him but he swiveled it out of your reach, already moving to follow Tony. “It’s fine. This is nothing,” he said, smiling down at you. 

“Thanks Captain. I don’t know how I’ll be able to keep up with him,” you replied, shyly smiling back at him and pointing at the man walking in front of you. He chuckled before letting out an exasperated sigh, “Oh, you’ll get used to it. And just call me Steve,” 

Tony suddenly turned around as if just realizing you weren’t following at his heels. “Would you look at that?” He teased when he saw both you and Steve lagging behind him. “Chivalry’s not dead,” shrugging, he continued on, prompting Steve to shake his head at his friend. 

When you both arrived at your room, You tried not to gawk but Tony Stark was definitely not cheap. They let you take it all in, practically feeling your excitement off your skin. Steve dropped your bags off on the floor before turning to take his leave, 

“Alright, I’m off. I’ll see you guys for dinner,” his voice cut you out of your wonder. 

“Thank you, Steve,” you beamed at him before he left the door. 

“You’re welcome, Y/N,” he replied, flashing you a genuine smile. You watched his retreating figure out the hallway, your heart hammering in your chest. 

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You had been working for the Avengers for two months now and you must admit you had easily become friends with all of them, jokes and easy conversation flowing with everyone except for one. Steve freakin’ Rogers. Oh, you were friends with him, you talked but the easiness was only one-sided. Every time you had a conversation with him, you felt your heart leaping out of your chest. Every single smile from him sent butterflies to your stomach. It was becoming a problem, your school girl crush making you look less professional and on top of that, you just knew the spies figured it out. Why else would Nat and Clint suddenly make up excuses and leave you and Steve alone again for breakfast? 

You tried to ignore the fluttering of your heart as Steve made his coffee. Acting as normal as possible, you reached for the flour on the highest shelf of the cupboard, your hand coming up short. Uh-oh. Maybe, if you could just go on your tiptoes, you could get it, right? Wrong. You had been dead wrong. You wiggled your fingers, hoping you didn’t look like an absolute idiot. Oh God, have I been reaching for this too long already; past the point of asking Steve for help? If you turned around now and asked him, wouldn’t it be too awkward?  But if you suddenly changed what you were going to make just because you couldn't reach the flour, wouldn’t that be too petty? Oh god, why do you have to overthink everything when he’s around?

Steve suppressed his laugh as he leaned on the counter, watching you struggle. How long was it going to take for you to give up? You were so different from any woman he’s met since waking up in the future, always so happy and cheerful with no guise whatsoever. You were a breath of fresh air, real, and so unlike all the other spies and agents he’s worked with, with their cold manner and calculating eyes. It didn’t take long for him to trust you. He considered you his friend and now, you were just beyond adorable. A crooked smile formed on his lips as he waited some more, enjoying the show far too much, his eyes involuntarily moving down to check your ass out in your sleep shorts. When he realized what he was doing, he blushed, and immediately straightened up to help you. 

A huff fell from your lips as you decided, enough was enough. You turned around, ready to call for him, when you came face to face with his solid chest. His familiar masculine scent warmed your senses as blood crept up your cheeks. “Got it,” he said, holding the jar between you, a playful smile splayed on his perfectly luscious lips. 

You cleared your throat, your eyes on his lips as you tried to find your voice. “Thanks Steve,” you replied just a little too breathily.

“Anytime, Y/N,” he smiled softly down at you, bringing his hand up to ruffle your hair. And just like that the romantic atmosphere was ruined. It was just on your part. Again. 

______________________________________________________________________

Months later 

You were dancing carefree to the beat of the music blasting from your headphones as you cooked your dinner. It was late, you were sure everyone had gone to sleep so you were safe to boogie and shake your hips while you celebrated. You had finally figured out how to calibrate Black Widow’s newest weapon. It took you the whole night for the finishing touches, making you forget to eat but it was all worth it. You were on a high as you piled the pasta on to your plate, grabbing the still-too-hot garlic bread from the oven too early, making you wince as you put your thumb between your lips to lessen the burn. You didn’t hear the tired chuckle from the doorway when you shook your hips to turn around, refusing to let the scalding garlic bread shake your mood. You let out a tiny squeal when you saw Steve leaning against the doorway, decked in all his Captain America glory minus the mask. 

“You’re back?” you shrieked, a hand flying to your chest as you tried to calm your racing heart, thanking god you didn’t drop your plate. “You scared the shit out of me,” 

Steve had the audacity to look ashamed as he straightened. “Yeah, sorry about that, couldn’t help it. Please don’t stop on my account,” he teased, laughing, before a wince escaped his lips. 

“You okay?” you immediately dropped your plate on the table and walked over to him, losing your nerve to even get embarrassed when he clutched his rib. 

“It’s nothing, doll,” he replied, shaking his head, a faint flush casting over his cheeks as the endearment slipped. 

You couldn’t help but be taken aback too. His voice had been soft and unconvincing unlike his usual steely, determined self. You laid your hand over the one still clutching his waist.

“What happened here? Are you hurt?” Concern seeped into your voice as you looked at him worriedly.

“It’s fine, really. It’ll heal fast,” he stepped away from you, making light of his injury. He didn’t know how to deal with anyone fussing over him. 

“Let me see it,” you said, your voice firm for once in his presence, putting your hands on your hips. 

“What?” he chuckled again, poorly hiding his hiss.

“Come on, Rogers, I’m a doctor. Let me see it,” you nodded to his injury, determination steeling your stance. 

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he said, “Yes ma’am,” and gave you a mock salute.

 “But didn’t you say you weren’t this type of doctor?” he continued, teasing, as he unbuckled his utility belt.

“Don’t get sassy on me now, Rogers,” You rolled your eyes until he started to peel off his uniform, then you lost your breath. You felt your cheeks flush at the forced intimacy of the situation, your resolve withering as you shifted your weight between your feet, crossing your arms at your chest. Should you even watch him take his top off? You didn’t want to look like a creep so you focused on the wall behind him.

When you heard him wince, your eyes shot back to him as he struggled to lift it over his head. Your hands moved of its own volition, gently helping him. Once that was over and done with, you looked up at him, his chest panting. 

“May I?” you asked, your slightly shaking hand gesturing to his undershirt. He nodded and you let your hands lift his shirt off gently, but what greeted you made your jaw drop open. The skin on his right rib was marred with a big dark patch of purple and blue, almost appearing black. Around it, littered lighter and smaller versions of it, a few cuts here and there. On his arms, his pecs, on the side of his jaw that you didn’t even notice awhile ago.

“Steve, what the hell! This isn’t nothing! Can you even breathe properly?” You asked worriedly, running your hands over the cuts and bruises. 

“Yes, Y/N. I told you this is normal. This happened just a few hours ago, it’s already healing. I’ll be fine,” He once again explained to you stubbornly, a soft smile playing on his lips. 

“Sit down, you need to put ice on that and I need to clean your wounds,” You rushed off to get the things you needed before pulling up a chair beside him. He watched you as your hands worked practically over his injuries, pride swelling in his eyes. There was a strange fluttering in his chest that he didn’t dare acknowledge. He wouldn’t admit it to himself but he only objected more to your ministrations because it made you double your fussing. 

“All done,” You cheered to yourself as you started tidying up. 

“Congratulations to you,” he replied jokingly, moving to help you before you swatted his hand away. “Stop, just keep that ice on your rib,” you told him seriously, getting up to bring back the first-aid kit to the cupboard and throw all the used up cotton. He was the worst patient there ever was, complaining and whining all the way through. 

“Yes, boss,” he deadpanned, loving the blush that tinted your cheeks. 

“Hey, have you eaten dinner already? You hungry?” you asked him, washing your hands.

“Dinner? Y/N, it’s 2 am, how have you not eaten dinner yet?” This time it was his turn to be indignant.

“Well, I was working,” you replied matter-of-factly as if it was the most normal thing in the world to forget to eat.

“Jesus Christ, I ended up taking down a terrorist base camp and I still had time for dinner,” he huffed, furrowing his eyebrows.

You scooped up a plate for him anyway, making sure to double the serving. When you dropped it in front of him, you noticed he had put his shirt back on again much to your displeasure. What can you say? The guy was chiseled like a greek god. It didn’t hurt to look at him.

You both started to eat in peace, the awkwardness settling in. You had no idea why he wasn’t talking. He was usually cool as a cucumber while you were a blubbering mess. 

“So how was--”

“I didn’t know--” 

You both started at the same time causing you both to pause then laugh heartily. When he winced and clutched his rib again, you quickly apologized before he shushed you. “You go first,” he said, drinking water as he tried to hide his pain. 

“Do you want to get an x-ray? Make sure there’s no broken bones?” You asked, worry seeping into your voice again.

“Doll, I told you. This is normal for me, part of my job.”

“But I thought you said this was a simple covert mission, no fighting involved. They should’ve added more guys to go with you,” you frowned at him which made him chuckle lightly, his heart flipping in his chest at your concern. 

“That rarely happens. Really, you should see the other guys,” he made a joke of it to calm you down. Unconvinced, you smiled tentatively at him, thinking if you should still push the subject when he steered you to a different topic, asking about your work. You had explained to him animatedly about the progress you’ve made so far that you didn’t even notice how easily you guys had flit to different topics, talking about any random thing that popped into your minds, smiling and joking like it wasn’t almost four in the morning. 

When you went back to your room that night, you snuggled into your blankets, giggling. You had finally been able to talk with Steve without acting like a love-sick teenager. And it was everything you thought it would be. 

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

After that night, you guys formed an unspoken ritual. Every time you were working late and forgot to check the clock, Steve would bring you food to your lab, reminding you of your much needed dinner break. The first time it had happened, he walked in on you snacking on some m&m’s while you continued to work. He had groaned and lectured you on about how m&m���s and any form of chocolate was not considered dinner food. So after that, he took it upon himself to make sure you had something substantial to eat, often bringing his own cooking. You had talked about everything and nothing, some deep conversations that could only be shared through trusted friends while others had you both laughing deep from your belly with tears brimming your eyes. There were times when he had been relentless with his training too, even the rest of the team had left him alone to it, and you had to drag him away. Those days you had to remind him there was no war anymore and a little break was fine. You dragged him to watch movies, listen to music he had missed and, tried out those hole-in-the-wall types of restaurants where people wouldn’t recognize him.  

Steve had just gotten back from a mission with Sam and Bucky. Both boys grunted as they sat at the kitchen table, clutching their drinks.

“Man, I could really use a shower right now but I’m too tired to move,” Sam quipped, massaging his neck muscles. 

“I’m gonna order us a pizza,” Bucky said and eagerly whipped his phone out. Ever since he got off the ice in Wakanda, he’d been obsessed with all the “new” technology he’d been catching up on. He sure didn’t look it but he was a science geek at heart. Often going to you for help with everything he’s missed. The guys both looked to Steve questioningly, expecting him to butt in. He usually had a lot of input after a long mission. They were greeted by silence as he had his back to them, retrieving the first-aid kit from the cupboard. When he continued to ignore them as if he hadn’t heard anything they had just said and walked to the direction of your lab, both Sam and Bucky looked at each other, knowing smirks on their faces as they nodded their heads. America’s golden boy was whipped. 

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

Tony and Steve had been arguing in their usual banter at the lab. The super soldier looked like the worn out parent between the two while the genius billionaire gloated at his misery. Steve was wearing a black long-sleeved sweater that did nothing to hide his muscles despite its regular fit. You couldn’t help but steal glances at him from your station with Bruce, the two of you working quietly with an occasional chuckle or two thrown at the bickering men in front of you. 

Bruce cleared his throat when he caught you staring far too long at the golden-haired adonis, not paying attention to the question he was asking. You quickly averted your gaze and asked, 

“I’m so sorry, what was that?” you felt your cheeks warm as he looked at you with an endearing smile.

“I said, could you please pass me that sample?” He pointed at your hand clutching the petri dish. 

“Of course!” You replied, handing it to him before hiding behind your laptop to record the results of your experiment. 

“Will you quit acting like a grandpa for just a second and ask Sharon out? You guys clearly hit it off at the last mission. I don’t know what the hell is taking you so long,” Tony muttered as he tinkered on. 

You and Steve’s eyes snapped to each other, almost as if on instinct, before you quickly lowered yours and hid your hurt behind your laptop screen. Bruce didn’t miss the subtle exchange and tried to distract Tony off from the subject but still, the man was oblivious. 

“Tony, would you just quit it?” Steve complained exasperatedly, a sigh escaping his lips.

“I’m just saying, Cap. You’re a hundred years old, you aren’t getting any younger, pal,” he continued on. 

Before Steve could say anything else, you made a show of stretching out of your chair. 

“Oh boy, I need some coffee, do you guys want any?” you asked as cheerfully as you could, looking for an escape. 

“Oh you just read my mind! Didn’t I say she was the best?” Tony asked rhetorically, his hand gesturing to you as he looked at the men in the room. You missed the way Steve’s eyes had softened when they landed on you. The only reason he was even here. 

“I could use one right now, angel. Thank you!” Tony continued, using the nickname he had given you since you started working here, giving you a quick smile before going back to work.

“I could use one too, thanks.” Bruce nodded at you.

“Alright. How about you, Steve?”  you turned to him, your heart beating rapidly in your chest as he looked at you, an endearing smirk playing on the corner of his lips while he shook his head no.

“I’ll go with you, help you carry it.” He said, already standing up.

“What? Pssh. No. It’s fine, I got it.” You dismissed him playfully, leaving the lab as fast as you could, a weight in your chest as Tony continued to berate him into asking Sharon out on a date.

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

You decided to get Steve coffee anyway. You knew he was only being a gentleman because he didn’t want you having a hard time carrying all of it back to the lab. Grabbing some snacks too, you made your way back, a tray balancing on your hands when you heard Tony scream your name. Uh-oh. 

You opened the door to see Bruce and Steve laughing their asses off while Tony looked at you with murder in his eyes. “Did you just hack my playlist and change it all to spice girls?” he bellowed over the music, hands on his hips. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. It was supposed to be a prank between the two of you. He said you couldn’t hack into the system he created and you just had to prove him wrong. You thought you had put a timer on F.R.I.D.A.Y to just change it when he was alone. Guess you weren’t as good a hacker as you thought you were.  

“Sorry,” you shrugged sheepishly. 

“You don’t even look sorry. You could at least tell me you saved my old playlist,”

 Uh-oh. “I think so?” 

“Oh, come on!” he whined. 

“Sorry, but you questioned my hacking skills!” You replied indignantly.

“Because you’re not a hacker!” he emphasized each word, making you giggle. 

“I really am sorry! Look, I’m sure if there’s anyone here who could get it back, it’s you.” your sickly sweet voice belied the trick you still held up your sleeve. 

“Damn right, I could,” he replied arrogantly, typing into his hologrammed board as he gave instructions to F.R.I.D.A.Y.

You sipped the coffee in your hands, hiding the smirk on your lips. Bruce thanked you for the wonderful prank and you gave him a little curtsy in return as he grabbed an extra cinnamon roll, still smiling. All the while Steve looked down at the tray, his insides warming at your thoughtfulness, you had brought him his favorite yogurt and fruits knowing he’d prefer those over the sugary treats. He was suddenly pulled out of his reverie when Celine Dion’s haunting voice rang out, almost making him spit his coffee out of his mouth as he burst out laughing, watching Tony’s face get flushed. He turned to you as you carelessly threw your head back, laughing. Anyone who could take Tony down a peg, he admired, and knowing that it was your brilliant mind that had the genius sputtering in annoyance made him love you even more. 

“Oh doll…” he exhaled. “This is why I fell in love with you.” 

Everyone in the room suddenly stilled. Tony’s audible, “Oh” popped in the background making Steve screw his face up in confusion. What the heck? He saw your eyes widen, your cheeks turning beet red.  Oh crap. 

He said that out loud, didn’t he? 

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #hopingforbarnes250writingchallenge #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x awkward!reader

[remmushound]

Beyond the Bay Chapter 18, Flooded Tunnels

Tags: @brightlotusmoon @ilo-artistry @selfindulgenz

Summary: The brothers encounter a dead end— and a near-dead rat

Content warning: medical treatment, swears

Eight sets of feet sloshed through the cesspools, the red and blue leaders heading their designated team. Leaders in the front, Raphael and Leo, and navigators, the Donatello’s, right behind them. Donatello and Donnie, with their quickness of mind and hand, had created in less than ten minutes a device they said could track the most minuet of electric life pulses; at first, there had been the plan to use Donatello’s mutant tracker, but it had quickly proven to not be effective at tracking in such a mutagen-tainted sewer. Donnie was the designated holder of the new device, while Donatello had his goggles flicked down over his eyes scanning and searching the tunnels for any abnormality. Directly behind them wereMikey and Leonardo, and at the back of the group were Raph and Michelangelo, watching the flank.

Leo kept finding himself looking just to make sure Mikey was keeping up; that was why Raph was there at the back, making sure Mikey didn't fall behind, but the anxiety tickling at Leo’s chest refused to let him just accept that. He was still seething bitterly at being outvoted with the vote of Donatello, and more than anything he wanted to order Mikey to go home where he was safe, but he didn't. He had made a promise and he intended to keep it. The vote had spoken, even if it had spoken against him. He had to ignore the sick, clawing feeling in his gut that told him to go back on his word. Not this time. No more dictatorship…

“You know.” Leonardo’s vice was a saving grace from Leo’s darkening thoughts, “Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to go after a giant dinosaur head-on without, I don’t know, a tank?”

“We have a tank!” Raphael declared with a proud pat to his chest, “Besides, if he’s got their dad, then we don’t got the time to spare.”

“But we have a… literal tank also.” Donatello pointed out, immediately talked over by Leonardo.

“If, that’s a big if.” Leonardo scoffed, “I’m not saying we don’t need to find their dad, but I am saying we need a plan.”

Leo found himself agreeing with Leonardo. His dad was strong, but that didn't mean he couldn’t get hurt, especially when he was alone. He’d been gone at least a few hours, and a lot could happen in a few hours…

“I can’t help but agree with Leo.” Leo admitted, “At the very least some of us could have stayed behind to watch your father, or went searching for Honeycutt.”

“April’s at home.” Raphael commented with a shrug, “This is an all hands on deck situation.”

Leonardo gave a long sigh and shook his head. “Listen, Raph, I love April and everything, but she’s not exactly… mutant.”

Raphael paused, and there was a few seconds of processing before he turned to look at Leonardo. Raphael stopping was enough to cause a chain reaction that backed up the narrow tunnel.

“What?”

“I mean, she’s soft and squishy.” Leonardo tried to reason, “And even with her bat, I’m not sure she’d stand a chance. I’m not even sure we stand a chance!”

“It’s fine!” Raphael snorted, “She has us and Casey on speed dial if anything goes wrong, which it won’t.”

“No offense Raph, but you didn't see the size of those ‘triceratons’ or whatever they are.” Donnie said, “They’re massive! Your Leon’s right to be concerned.”

“We’ll handle it. We’re on the move.” Raphael set them in motion once more. They didn't get very far at all in the stressed silence.

“I’m getting some strange readings.” Donnie reported.

“And it’s nothing mystic.” Donatello followed up, “So I’ve got the slightest inkling we’re close.”

“Well it’s the end of the road.” Leonardo pointed out the stagnant water that filled the tunnel ahead of them. “Unless dinosaurs can swim, I think we took a wrong turn.”

“Actually, triceratops’ were probably very prolific swimmers—“ Donnie started.

“Again with the dinosaur facts, Don?” Raph threw his head back and groaned.

“I love dinosaurs and you will not shame me for it!”

“I’ll shame you for every damn thing your tree-looking ass does.”

“Say that again, Shrek, I dare you--”

“Guys…” Mikey’s voice cut through the argument. He didn't answer the questioning gazes passed his way as he pushed through the crowd at a brisk walk that quickly turned into a sprint until he fell to his knees in the muck.

His hands groped around the gray water until they found something solid and furry. He yanked Splinter up and held the sodden rat tightly to his chest, feeling his fathers heartbeat against his chest. He was alive. Mikey had been expecting the swarm of turtles, so when they came he wasn’t caught off guard; their shouts of ‘father’ and ‘sensei’ and ‘Splinter’ fell deaf on his ears as he blocked out the shouts for the sake of his own sanity; within seconds, Splinter had been snatched from Mikey by Leo, and then snatched away from Leo by Donnie, and then ushered to be laid on dry stone; Leonardo was there in an instant to help, moving the rat’s head to the side while Donnie took his vitals.


“He’s breathing, but he’s so cold.” Donnie said in a quick, soft voice, “Potential for hyperthermic shock. Pulse is thready…”

“What’s going on, Don?” Leo demanded.

“No obvious trauma. Evidence of water aspiration, wet breath sounds…”

“Is he alright?!” Raph was pacing as he grabbed at his head.

“If he doesn’t start coughing soon we’ll have to suction lungs of excess fluid…”

“Talk to me, Donnie?!”

“Potential for infection…” Donnie’s rambling just kept going on and on and on. He and Leonardo seemed to be working with the same hivemind, the older assessing the state of his father while the younger worked to dry and stabilize.

Without a word passed between the two medics, Donnie lifted Splinter up so his back was pressed to the wall. Leonardo held his hands over Splinter’s stomach so they formed a butterfly, and once Donnie had provided Splinter with four big breaths, Leonardo pumped firmly on the space. Splinter immediately coughed, and once he started coughing he didn't stop. Water spilled out of his mouth and was quickly wiped away by Donnie’s tender touch, and though the rat’s eyes were open they were hardly seeing.

Raphael pulled off his torn coat and offered it to Donnie, who took it without even having to look. He used it to cover Splinter before taking off the rat’s wet robes and discarding them. He then scooped Splinter up in his arms while still vigorously rubbing the coughing rat’s chest.

“What the hell happened?” Raph’s soft words held none of the normal, brutish anger as he laid a hand over his father.

“The entire lower level of sewer is completely flooded.” Leonardo offered, “Has been since we were born. There’s a section of it that opens up into our lair, In the zen room— we never let dad in there by himself. Maybe he fell in?”

“Or was pulled in…” Leo muttered.

“Well whatever the case, it’s a miracle he’s still breathing.” Donnie said, and his hand went from rubbing Splinter’s chest to rubbing his hair. “Nice spot, Mike.”

“I didn't even see him there.” Raph sighed and shook his head.

“Uh, fellas?” It felt wrong invading such a private moment between father and sons and medics, so Michelangelo and Donatello had slowly been drifting away from the group to give them their space. Now, they were backtracking to return to the safety of their numbers, eyes locked Beyond the rescue scene.

The stagnant and still water was no longer still. Bubbles were rippling at the surface, rising through the water and bursting to make room for more to form in rapid succession. The water started to swell, like something - something big - was about to break through.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #tmnt au #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #bay turtles

[angelanimedesaray]

Wings in the Dark Chapter 5:  Camaraderie

AN:  More Cat and Mouse.  I swear its gonna start to crescendo, guys, we’re almost there XD  There’s just so much to establish!

Characters:  Fem!Vampire!Reader, Levi, Petra, Oluo, Gunther, Eld

Pairing:  (Eventual)  Levi x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Warnings:  Language, Loneliness, Depressed Thoughts

Word Count:  8146

<----Previous Chapter    Masterlist    Next Chapter---->

*Reader’s POV*

While it wasn’t the most shocking thing that had ever happened to you, being instated as a member, but not technically a member, of the Special Operations Squad was definitely up there on your list of most surprising things that had happened to you.  The weird in-between position they gave you to try and mediate how unprecedented it was to have a rookie join Levi Squad after just one expedition may have been a glorified lackey, but it was still a position with Captain Levi’s Squad.

Of course, right now, that consisted of doing the menial chores, message delivery, and other small tasks like that, but you were still a part of the team.  They’d only given you this aid position they’d made on the spot because you were so new, and it did a decent job of putting you at the bottom of the food chain until you were more seasoned.  However, you were still considered part of Captain Levi’s Squad--you had your own private chambers and everything, which meant you wouldn’t have to worry about not waking up anyone while you snuck out of the barracks every once in a while to get something to eat.

Also, now that you were officially being placed with a squad, you knew what people you had to try and made friends with.  Before you’d been hesitant--sure, you understood that the Scouts operated in a way that was going to make teamwork and camaraderie important, so you were going to have to be more social, but you still wanted to be careful about who you let get close.  You still had an instinct to keep everyone at an arm’s length besides those you /had/ to keep close, which you had rationalized would include whoever you were put under and the rest of your squad.

While you’d known Levi was watching you and the rumors had been running rampant that a rookie would be joining his squad, you’d been well aware that he wasn’t watching you because he wanted to add you to the group--he was suspicious of you.  That sparring match you’d had with him had tipped him off, and he hadn’t relented in his pursuit ever since then.  In fact, when he’d told you that you were going to be a part of his squad, he didn’t look entirely pleased about it.  Sure, Captain Levi was usually hard to read and usually appeared distant or unapproachable, but the look in his eyes had been...colder.  It made you suspicious that having you on the squad had not been his decision, or at the very least it had been one he’d made despite his reservations.

Keep your enemies close, right?

Once it was on the table that this might be a position meant solely as an excuse to keep a closer eye on you, it made your skin crawl, and you approached every situation with caution.  You had to watch every step, like you were walking across a tightrope and would drown if you slipped and fell into the waters down below.

When you’d joined the Scouts, you knew that it was going to be difficult to balance being a Scout with hiding your true nature, but this was far beyond what you had expected.  It made you dearly wish that you had thrown that match back on the training grounds, that he’d never gotten a sense that you were hiding something so fiercely.  

Soon, you were going to be kept up at night with an internal struggle to either stick it out and try to endure so you could do what you came here to do, or if you should just take off and slink back into the shadows.

But you couldn’t bear the thought of going back to that life, as much as it might have been ‘safer’ in a way.  You wanted desperately to be here--but did you want it bad enough that you were going to throw all caution to the wind, risk the Captain getting too close to your secret.  In the past, before you’d joined the military, you’d killed the people who came too close to exposing you.  But that wasn’t an option, here.  You knew how valuable Captain Levi was to the Scouts--humanity couldn’t afford to lose him, so you couldn’t afford to touch him.  Your only choice was to play this god forsaken cat and mouse game and pray that you came out on top.

Thankfully, the other members of the squad weren’t aware of the cat and mouse you and Levi were caught up in--not yet, anyway.  Though they were understandably confused and even a little irritated at the inclusion of a still-green rookie, even if it was as an aid.  Maybe the aid position caused a bit more tension, because a new position had been created just so you could be added to the group.

Give it time, you told yourself as you continued cleaning your private room that had been assigned to you, currently working on cleaning the desk off until it had a polished shine to it.  Even if Levi hadn’t added you to the squad because he necessarily wanted you here, you were still going to prove that you could belong here, if they would let you.

“Did you finish with the stables?”

“Yes, sir.  Mucked out, equipment cleaned, horses fed, watered, and brushed, shoes cleaned, all of it.”

“What about cleaning inside, have you done all the tasks you were assigned?”

“All except what Oluo asked me to do.  I haven’t got there yet."

"Well, get to it.  And when you're done come down to the training grounds for some training."

"Yes, sir!"

As you walked away from Eld, your ears picked up on a passing comment he made to Gunther when he thought you were out of earshot.

“Is it just me, or is it frustrating how easily and quickly she tends to get all of her tasks done?  I can’t even find anything wrong with it, so I can’t claim she’s rushing through it!”

"You too?  I thought it was just Oluo complaining about that."

Just as you'd suspected.  The others weren't pleased with your easy access to this position.  They weren't going to say anything because they trusted Levi’s judgement and as far as they knew it was his decision, but that didn't mean they weren't going to be at least a little irritated.  How long had it taken before they'd been added to Levi’s squad?  How many expeditions, how much hard work?  By all accounts, it looked like you'd had smooth and effortless sailing into a position among the elite.

The fact they kept having you do the shit chores was just a way to kick you back in the dirt and remind you that you were still a rookie, and they were the veterans with experience.

However, you didn't complain.  You could do the jobs faster than anyone without loosing accuracy because of it.  Not to mention you felt it might be cathartic for their frustrations.  Though, now it seemed they had a new reason to be frustrated.

You'd tone it back to appease them, but Levi already knew what your full effort looked like with the cleaning jobs--he'd know you were holding back, and you highly doubted he'd appreciate that when it came to cleaning, knowing his standards.

Quickly, you made your way back inside and up to Oluo's chambers, stopping outside the door and giving a firm knock.

"Who's there?"

"It's L/N, you said you had a job for me to do?"

"It's about time you showed up.  Get in here!"

After he'd officially invited you inside, you opened the door, stepping inside and expecting to see paperwork or supplies or something else you would have to deliver or put away.

Nope.  Oluo was standing there with cleaning supplies presented in the middle of the room.  You immediately knew where this was going, and even you could tell it wasn't going to end well.

"Start cleaning, rookie.  I've got more important things I have to get done, and I want it shining by the time I get back," Oluo ordered, complete with a puffed out chest.

You were supposed to follow their orders without question, but you knew Oluo was taking advantage of that fact.  Maybe he was hoping having you clean his quarters before Levi inspected them later today would help him look better to the Captain.  But you were also certain that Levi would recognize that it was your work and not Oluo's

For Oluo's sake, since you were certain he would be the one getting in trouble, you pushed back slightly.

"Doesn't Captain Levi prefer if we clean our own spaces?" You asked as you picked up the broom.  Oluo turned by the door, fixing you with the imitation of an expression befitting a superior who'd just heard a subordinate talk back.

"Huh?  How long have you been here, rookie, compared to me?" Oluo challenged.  You shrugged, turning back to the cleaning supplies and the room you were supposed to clean.

His funeral.

The window was open to let in natural light and try to chase away the gloomy atmosphere in your room, silence filling the space except for the birds outside and the scratching against the paper you were currently drawing on.  Your eyes, however, were unfocused, looking past the piece you were drawing and instead getting lost in the sea of your depressed thoughts.

For three years you’d been back among people, mingling and being a part of society, but never had you felt so...ostracized.  You were among people, but you weren’t close to anyone.  Your peers thought you were a haughty perfectionist ice queen and were irritated by how easily everything came to you, Captain Levi was suspicious that there was something you were hiding and was watching your every move with a coldness in his eyes, and your new squad mates were currently using you as the gopher to dump all the chores they didn’t want to do onto you while giving you examining, dubious looks from a distance trying to figure out why you were even here.

You sat alone at meals, you didn’t go anywhere on your days off--the closest thing you had to a companion were the horses, and most of them were still frightened by you.

You wanted to be here, but...it was getting so hard just to be here.  Was it really worth it if you were going to spend your days feeling like this?

On the paper spread out in front of you, you had a picture drawn from the mental image in your mind’s eye--a single flower in a barren spot surrounded by lush field.  The sun shone everywhere else, but this single spot was cast in shadow.  Despite the barren ground and the lack of sunlight, the flower was trying to bloom, partially budded, some petals trying to uncurl, but ice covered it’s petals and held prisoner it’s stem, restraining it in the icy chill, needing assistance but nothing around it willing or able to help.

You put down what you were drawing with, a lump in your throat and tears in your eyes as you headed over to your bed and stretched out on top of the neatly made covers, arms digging under the pillow you buried your face in before tears could overflow.

You were surrounded by people, but you’d never felt so lonely, and you wanted it to change.  Even though you’d signed up for this and known it would be difficult, you couldn’t take living like this anymore.  Something had to change.  You didn’t know how you were going to keep your secret while trying to let people in enough to form bonds, but it was the only real option that you had.

The guys were all dubious of you, you could tell from overheard conversations and the looks in their eyes, but Petra...well, you thought if you were going to start trying to build a friendship somewhere, she might be the one to go to.  She’d been a bit more...open, about the whole arrangement, and she was actually asking for help and trying to get a feel for you while everyone else seemed to be going out of their way to remind you that you were at the bottom of the food chain right now.

Starting tomorrow...you were going to try and be a companion and hopefully manage to find some friendship.  Starting with Petra.

*Petra’s POV*

The mess hall was noisy as ever, making it a little surprising that Captain Levi was still sitting with them at the table after repeating the lecture he'd given Oluo later about doing his own cleaning.  Now that Oluo had attempted to have the rookie clean his space and then pass it off as his own, the rest of them got to get the warning to do their own responsibilities without shoving them all off on the new girl.

Petra had felt bad that she seemed to be getting all the crap jobs nobody wanted to do and then some while the others seemed determined to make sure she knew her place, but she hadn't said anything because not once had the woman complained or looked the least bit upset by it.  Until today, Petra had been unsure how to even approach her, something about her making her seem closed off and unreachable.

However, today she had approached Petra, quietly asking Petra if she would teach her the nuances for how everything was cleaned around here.  Preferences of soaps and organization, what went where and the like.  You could clean till everything shone like a new coin, bur preferences had to be taught or learned.  She'd been aware of it, and she had been humble enough to approach Petra for answers.

It was only when she was approached that Petra suddenly realized how alone the woman seemed.  She never ate with them--in fact she was certain she ate alone--and she was never seen around anyone from her years as a cadet, she didn't seem to leave headquarters to visit family, and if you needed to find her she was either alone in her room or with the horses in the stable.  She was never with someone unless she was doing her job.

The thing that made Petra realize all this was how she was approached.  The woman shifted her weight, a white knuckle grip on the broom in her hand despite visible restraint, her eyes fixed down and to the side, a slight tremble in her hand and a hunch of her shoulders like she was anticipating some negative reaction, or at least reluctance.

It wasn't right.  She was part of their squad, and it was their job to make sure she felt included.  Captain Levi must have felt that she was ready on some level to be here, and they were her comrades.  At the very least, she should have a place among them--she shouldn't be so alone.

So, while everyone else was chatting as usual around the table, Petra kept an eye out for their new squad member.  It took a while, but when the woman finally appeared and left the line to get her food, Petra attempted to catch her attention without the others noticing.

They locked gazes, and Y/N hesitated before she approached their table, making the others look up as she came astride the table.

"May I sit here?" she asked hesitantly, gaze flickering around at the others and lingering briefly on Captain Levi at the head of the table.

"Of course," Petra said instantly, gesturing to an empty seat beside her and flashing a look at the others daring them to disagree while Y/N was taking her seat.  "It's about time you started sitting with your squad."

Her cheeks tinged pink in mild embarrassment, Y/N took a few bites of her meal, clearly uncertain about what to do next.

Well, if everyone else was just going to sit here in awkward silence, and Y/N wasn’t going to take the initiative because she wasn’t sure how, Petra would just have to do it herself.

“So, where are you from?” Petra asked her.  It was probably the best, simple answer to get the ball rolling on conversation.

“A small town in Wall Rose--it tends to get overlooked, and it's usually quiet around there except the occasional scandal.”

“Do you have much family back home?”

“No, it’s just me.”

The way she said it was short, clearly ending the topic there, but she managed to not make it sound mean--just that she wasn’t entirely comfortable talking about it, which made sense.  Petra continued to chat with her, asking simple questions to try and learn more about her, basing some off her observations of the woman--like if she was good with animals.  Apparently animals weren’t always that fond of her, but she had a soft spot for them despite some animals distaste of her.  She thought she might be good with cats or birds, but hadn’t really had the opportunity to test her theory out.

After a bit of back and forth between Petra and Y/N about their lives and learning about one another, the others started to join in as well--aside from Captain Levi, who seemed content to just focus on his meal and listen while everyone talked around him.  As the conversation flowed a little more naturally, Y/N started to loosen up and relax, taking charge of the conversation a few times to ask about the others as well as she bloomed from a closed off background character in a novel to a more outgoing and engaging individual.  It was quite the change to witness.  She still withdrew into herself with more personal questions, especially about her past before joining the Scouts, which gave Petra the impression that the Scouts were a sort of fresh start for the woman.  She shared with them why she’d joined the Scouts, which none of them could deny was a valid enough reason after seeing her in action.  She had skill, and if she wanted those skills to be put to use, the Scouts were arguably the best place for them, and the faction of the military with the strongest need for them.  Besides, who didn’t want to feel useful?  Unfortunately, many Scouts died, and some died so quickly it was easy to wonder if their deaths ever had any meaning to begin with, if it had been worth it.  However, Petra had the feeling this one wasn’t going to be one of those recruits that appeared and disappeared without ever leaving much of a mark.  She just might be around for a while, especially if she was going to take the time to learn from the elites she’d been placed with and stayed grounded, level-headed, and smart.

As the questions drifted away from the personal, in part because of Y/N’s continued reluctance to delve too deeply into the personal, they started peppering her with the twenty-questions kinds of inquiries.  What were her likes and dislikes, favorites, hobbies, fears, aspirations, that kind of thing.  Some she was able to answer relatively quickly, even if it wasn’t simple, such as having no clear favorite because she liked so many, and other times she hesitated, such as when she was asked aspirations, because she hadn’t given it much thought, being so focused on this current stage of her life.

“What about biggest fears?”

“Oluo!” Petra protested, giving him a dirty look.  They were all eating, and this question alone could get extremely dark considering the horrors they faced every day outside the wall.

“What?  It’s a legitimate question.  Some people are scared of spiders, others heights--though you don’t get much of that one in the military, I think--it could be all kinds of things.”

"I think the answer to that is a little too morbid for dinner conversation," Y/N said with a slightly weak smile, which made Petra think it might actually be something to do with Titans.  If it was, it was probably best they didn’t hear it, just in case.

"Nah, it's fine, we're sharing--so what is it?  Fire?  Dolls?  Dead fish?" Oluo asked cheekily.

"Um...being buried alive, actually," Y/N answered, looking down and picking at her food.

"Damn, that is a pretty scary thought.  Wasn't expecting that one," Oluo muttered.  Petra wasn’t paying attention to him--she was reading Y/N’s body language, how she’d seemed to withdraw into herself and her hand was trembling as she pushed around the food left on her plate.  It was most likely at the thought of this fear of hers, if Petra had to guess.  The mental imagery alone was terrifying.

At the other end of the table, Levi was staring at Y/N intently, having noticed the same things, and a little more.

“Now that Oluo has officially tried to sabotage the evening, let’s try some gossip:  I hear you had a knack for sneaking out in the Cadet Corps and never got caught.  What were you doing?  I’ve heard some interesting theories,” Gunther said with a perceiving glint in his eyes.  Y/N sighed even as everyone’s attention centered on her.

“God damn those rumors are going to follow me for the rest of my life, aren’t they?” she mused, not denying that she snuck out as she took a slow drink.

“Well, Rookie?  Care to share?” Oluo asked as she sat down her drink.

She turned to look at the rest of the group, and then with an unreadable expression and in a completely deadpan tone, stated, "I strip naked in the pale moonlight and conduct blood rituals to achieve perfection."

There was a heartbeat, and then snorts, chuckles, a ripple of amusement through the group at the joke.

"Rookie's got a sense of humor," Oluo mused.

Y/N’s lips quirked towards a half smile, taking another drink.  "Wish I could say the same for you."

There was a bit more laughter this time, even as Oluo scowled, no one bothering to hide their amusement at the comment.

"And some snark, to boot," Gunther snickered as Oluo sulked.  “But really, though, what were you doing?”

Y/N sighed, setting down her drink again.  “It wasn’t...actually, you know what,” she said with a sparkle in her eye and a mischievous smile.  “I hear there’s a pot for the theories.  Place bets on it, maybe one day I’ll actually tell you.  Maybe I won’t.”

“Oh, come on,” Oluo complained loudly.

“Now that’s just mean,” Petra said with a cluck of her tongue and a shake of her head while Y/N settled back down, visibly proud of her teasing.

Caught up in their banter and companionable discussion, no one noticed how at the head of the table, laid back in his chair, Levi showed no sign of amusement, his gaze fixated on Y/N with a sharp, cold look.

*Reader’s POV*

After you’d taken your first steps towards developing a warmer relationship with your squad mates, things started to go a bit easier for you.  You were still at the bottom of the food chain, and the responsibilities as an aid hadn’t changed, but you didn’t think you were getting as much shit dumped on you.  It probably helped that Captain Levi had apparently given them a lecture about doing their own chores instead of getting lazy and shoving them all off on her.

For the most part, it was Petra that you were getting close to.  The others were becoming cordial, and you had even approached Eld asking him if he could give you lessons on ODM gear technique after hearing he was quite skilled at utilizing the ODM gear.  That seemed to have helped the relationship there--frankly, whenever you showed a bit of humility about still having a lot to learn, they warmed up a bit more.

It seemed there had been concerns that you would be an arrogant big headed pain in their asses with how quickly you’d shot into the elite squad, and showing them that you still considered yourself in a learning position and not above anyone helped assuage those fears.

Captain Levi...was as suspicious of you as ever.  Except now you were around him enough to feel the chill in his gaze even after you left his presence.  That was a relationship you weren’t sure you were in a position to improve.  You’d given him plenty of reasons to be suspicious of you, but you were still trying your damnedest not to give him a reason to mistrust you.  Maybe it would just take time to prove yourself in his eyes, but at this rate, it was looking like a /deep/ hole you were going to have to climb out of, and for some reason, it just kept getting deeper.

Since it was going to be the more difficult task, you resolved to worry about making a better relationship with Captain Levi later and instead focus on improving the relationship with your squad mates.  Firstly, you didn’t want to be a kiss ass, especially cause you knew it would be obvious.  Second, ideally by the time you set about improving your relationship with the Captain, he might have warmed up a bit to you.

At the very least, it would be nice if that chill wasn’t in his gaze anymore.

Right now, Petra was the closest thing to a confidant and friend that you had.  After you had initially approached her about learning the nuances for cleaning, she’d taken the initiative to help you learn the ropes and adjust to the other nuances of being in Levi Squad, which involved a lot of dos and don’ts.  She’d even pulled you aside one evening and sat you down so she could teach you how to properly make Captain Levi’s tea how he liked it, so that if or when he asked for it--and apparently he eventually asked everyone at some point, at least to gauge their tea making skills--you would be ready.  You’d been down in the kitchen for a surprisingly long time for that one, since apparently Levi liked his black tea made a very specific way, and additives weren’t usually his preference, so there would be no masking any off taste.

Shortly after, you’d decided to let Petra know about your secret little garden with your tea making herbs.  You’d gone when you both had some free time to spare, crouching down beside the garden and talking with her about the different herbs for your blends you’d added and why, complete with a prepared excuse about why the white sage was so far away from the rest and why you wore gloves when handling the plans at all times.

The white sage you told her needed to stay separate because it was aggressive and you didn’t want it taking over the smaller herbs, when you really kept it separate because it burned at the touch and you didn’t want to risk even accidentally brushing against it while you were working on this hobby of yours.  As for the gloves, it was the same concept--it let you handle the sage safely without harming yourself, though you told her it was for cleanliness and to keep your natural oils off of the tea herb plants.

As you’d chatted about the herbs in your garden and potential additions (With Petra suggesting adding the plants necessary to make some black tea blends of your own), you’d caught a familiar scent on the breeze, which led you to hone your senses on the individual’s breathing and heartbeat.  They were staying a safe distance away so as not to be noticed, but close enough that if something happened they would be there in an instant.  They were tense and cautious, listening intently to what was being discussed.

It seemed Captain Levi had reached the point he didn’t trust you alone with the other members of Squad Levi in places that were hidden from the public eye.  Your best guess for his presence was that it was out of concern for Petra, wanting to make sure the other woman was truly safe in your presence.

Once again, you understood his cautiousness, and he wasn’t wrong to be cautious...but the level of distrust still cut.

After about a week or so spent developing a stronger bond with your new squad mates, as the time for another feed drew closer, you decided to confide in some of your concerns with Petra regarding Captain Levi--that you felt you might have made a bad impression on him early on and wanted a way to thaw some of the ice between you two that wouldn’t look like bribery or like you were trying to kiss ass.  You’d tossed a couple ideas around, already reassuring her that you were already intending to let time tell and let your own personality and abilities do most of the work, but that the chill was getting a little too uncomfortable on your end for you to keep going without making some kind of first step.

With an upcoming holiday and a debate about the best approach, you’d eventually settled on putting together a small gift of personalized tea blends.  Since you didn’t have anything mature in your garden for black tea, you had to go into town to get missing ingredients, going with Petra to get her opinion on the best leaves, best tea bags, any additions that you didn’t have in your garden back with the Scouts or that hadn’t matured enough to use anything from it yet like your rosebush.  After you had all of your materials, you’d headed back to HQ and stowed yourselves away in the kitchen to get to work.

Petra had the idea to make a couple different variations--there would be plain black tea, of course, but you’d also had some personal blends that you two decided on, mostly based off of Petra’s experience making Levi his tea when asked to, and her past observations of the few times he’d added something to it.  You would have to divide and label the different teas in the container, but it would make it a little more personal.

However, you got her attention when you brought out the white sage, gloved hands grinding the herb up into a fine powder with a mortar and pestle.

“What’s that for?” she asked with a slight frown, watching you intently grinding at the white sage to make sure it was all powder and there weren’t any chunks left.

“I’m going...to add a light dusting of the white sage over the tea bags.  Hopefully not enough to alter the taste, but it will still be in there,” you murmured, covered fingers running through the powder to check how fine you’d made it.

“I know there’s superstitions about white sage cleansing of evil and bad spirits, but I know the Captain isn’t, and you didn’t take me for the superstitious type.  I just figured you had a fancy taste in tea,” Petra mused.  You almost snorted, but stopped yourself short considering you were currently directly over the powdered sage and didn’t want it to go everywhere.

“While I’m sure the superstitious intent of cleansing and warding off evil adds a bit more personal good intent, the short version is that it’s also supposed to do wonders for your health.  At least according to that book that’s still stashed in my desk,” you chuckled.

“I didn’t know that...a fine addition, then.  You really pay attention to that herbology book of yours,” Petra quipped with a friendly smile, which you returned before setting the white sage aside for later, when your tea bags were finished.

Though only you would know it, if he kept the tea and used it frequently--which was fairly likely with how much tea he drank--then he would have white sage in his system frequently.  That alone would protect him substantially from any other vampires lurking in the darkness.  You couldn’t predict the actions of other vampires, especially with how impulsive they could sometimes be, but if you were this deep in the Scouts, you would rather be safe than sorry, especially if someone with ill intentions managed to work their way in.

Sure, white sage helped with general health, but the real reason you were adding it was for your own peace of mind to help protect Captain Levi.  Why not take the opportunity to do so now that it had presented itself.  If you were in the position to, you would give similar gifts of secret protection to more than just him, but you only had so much white sage, and right now, he was the one you had an excuse to do this for.

Now you just had to hope he would accept it.

*Levi’s POV*

As much as Erwin had a point about being able to keep a closer eye on L/N by having her in his squad, Levi was finding the arrangement to be...complicating.  The way she presented herself, interacted with the others, the hard work she was putting in, he kept finding himself softening towards her because of it.  She was a good soldier who truly put in the effort and then some, and she was quickly growing on the rest of the team.  She was observant and thoughtful, and she paid close attention to the needs and preferences of the people around her.  She wasn’t boastful or arrogant, and apparently was trying to learn something from every member of the squad.  Petra had already taken her in like the natural mother hen she was and was around her quite often, but L/N could be seen around the others as well, just not as much.

For fuck’s sake, she’d even befriended his goddamn horse--he’d caught her in the stables sneaking him some oats and getting playfully nuzzled in return.  From her track record, he knew she had to have put in the effort for that to happen, too, considering the horses started off at least spooked by her.

But he knew she was hiding something.  He couldn’t ignore the signs he’d picked up on until now, how she dodged the personal and tried to keep her past hidden and buried, couldn’t forget the smell of the Underground and blood on her cape, her lack of a past, her unexplained, effortless natural skills, the regular sneaking out to do who knew what.  Maybe it wasn’t as insidious as he kept thinking it might be, maybe he should ease up a bit instead of freezing her out and treating her like an already convicted traitor.  But he couldn’t shake this feeling that whatever she was hiding was far from innocent, and he didn’t want to risk the betrayal, or getting his squad any more mixed up in it than they already were.

Though how well they were starting to take to her and how she was already being included into the fold, he was starting to get the sense that he was on a time limit before uncovering her as a traitor or something else terrible would cause unexpected damage.

Of course, he could take the paranoid route and assume that it was all clever, carefully planned movements, actions, and words meant to manipulate everyone around her into trusting her and letting their guards down.  Unfortunately, not only was that extremely paranoid, but she didn’t lack the sincerity behind much of what she did like certain psychopaths he’d met in the past.  She was very clearly hiding things, and she knew she was being watched, but her sincerity didn’t ring hollow because of it.

Fuck, he hated being in this position.  And he really hated that he’d agreed to Erwin’s idea to put him in this situation.  Even he knew he was being especially cold to her as if it would help put some distance between himself and the warm individual who was working her ass off for him and his squad in case the worst happened.  If he was wrong, though, and what she was hiding wasn’t as malicious as he felt it might be, then he was going to have a lot of reparations to deal with going forward, especially since she was already on the fast track to be a part of his squad for a long time moving forward so long as she continued to survive the expeditions.

It would be so much easier if she just came clean.  They wouldn’t have to do all this back and forth, cat and mouse, and they could move on.  Unfortunately, even though she knew she was being watched and Levi was suspicious, she wasn’t saying anything beyond that comment she’d made the night before the expedition.  Just another reason to believe whatever she was hiding was ugly.

There was a knock on his door, and his gaze flickered up to the shut door across from his desk, a faint frown on his face and Erwin’s findings about L/N spread out in front of him as he was in the middle of contemplating next moves.

“What?” he asked, squinting slightly at the door.

“It’s Y/N L/N.  May I come in, Captain?”

Instinctively, Levi covered the documents he’d been looking at with anything that didn’t have to do with her, from supply shortage lists, reports from Hange and Erwin about the Scouts in general, anything but what he was looking at about her, knowing she had a sharp eye and not wanting to risk her seeing just how much he was aware of.

“Fine, come in,” Levi muttered, arm lying against the desk as the door opened after he spoke, and L/N came in hesitantly, something in hand.

A delivery, then.  It was too much to hope she’d come to finally confess her secret to put an end to their unspoken chase.  A pity.

As she approached, Levi noticed that she was rather fidgety, obviously nervous or at least a little embarrassed, and she was clutching the tin box in her hand rather rightly.  What the hell was this about that suddenly she was a nervous cadet instead of the relatively calm and steady individual he’d been chasing secrets over up until now?

And then he remembered what day it was.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me...

As understanding lit up in his eyes, he held up a hand.  “If this is an attempt at a bribe, L/N--”

“It’s not,” she said firmly, and Levi had to give credit to the balls she had to cut him off like that.  She didn’t even seem to regret it, plowing forward before he could start down the path of rejection again.

“It’s a gift, no strings attached or anything like that.  Petra and I put it together, it’s for the holiday...and it’s also partially a thank you, on my part,” she said before taking a deep breath, setting the box down on his desk neatly on a clean space front and center before stepping away.  “I know I haven’t made the best impression, and you didn’t have to put me with your squad in any capacity, but you did, and I intend to make sure it’s not something you end up regretting.”

It seemed they were both well aware of the game they were trapped in, and she was well aware of her position.  He had to give her credit for not bolting, if she knew the position she was in and how much scrutiny she was under.  Either she didn’t feel what she had to hide was that serious, which wasn’t likely with how hard she was trying to hide it, or she was that confident in her abilities to keep the truth hidden.

He still wasn’t sure he could entirely believe that this wasn’t a bribe, though.  It could very easily be taken as one, or at least a thinly veiled attempt to get him to like her--or at least not be as cold with her.  And she’d involved Petra.  It was almost like she’d name dropped the other woman in order to prevent him from immediately rejecting the gift, because it wasn’t just her that had put effort into it.

Levi stared her up and down intently, eyes narrowed slightly out of suspicion as he tried to gauge her intentions and sincerity.  After a few tense moments where she simply endured his piercing stare without so much as a tremble--there was the collected individual he’d seen up until now--he looked away, down at the papers across his desk.

“If that’s all, you can go,” he said bluntly as a way of dismissal.  She was lucky he wasn’t telling her to take it back.  He wasn’t openly accepting it, either, he was still going to decide what to do with it, but he wasn’t sending it back with her, either.

It was the closest she was going to get to accepting a gift right now.

L/N snapped a salute, apparently deciding it was better not to say anything and to just take the semi-win and leave.  Once the door shut behind her, Levi waited a few more moments before he put the random papers he’d grabbed back where they belonged, pulling the tin close so he could get a look at what was inside now that she’d left.

Opening the tin, the fragrance that escaped immediately told him what the gift was--black tea, but a variety of different blends.  And it was good tea, too, if the scent was anything to go by.  Groups of the tea bags were sectioned off, labeled by the variant they were, such as the one blend that included lemon, or the one that seemed to have blackberries in it.  The tea bags were definitely homemade, telling him the blends were specially made by her and Petra, thought going into the ingredients.  There was a white powder dusted over all the tea bags that turned out to be white sage upon closer inspection.

An odd choice...especially since it was on every tea bag and not certain blends.

The wild thought crossed his mind that they might be poisoned, and he scowled, attempting to brush aside the paranoia with the thought that it would be far too bold and obvious of a move, especially with Petra helping put it together.  He doubted she would have been able to get such a thing past Petra, too, considering the woman’s experience making Levi’s tea.

I’m going fucking crazy, he thought to himself as, despite his rationalization, he pulled out one of the tea bags and started methodically pulling it apart piece by piece to make sure there wasn’t anything fatal slipped into the homemade blend.  He made sure to avoid touching it as little as possible so it was still usable when he was done, shifting through the ingredients in the blend and making sure he recognized every one.

Nothing suspicious about it.  Aside from the odd choice of white sage.

If it really was meant to be a bribe, though, did he want to take it?  He didn’t want to waste the tea, so he wasn’t going to just throw it out.  He could re-gift it to Hange or Erwin, but he knew that would be a slight, and L/N hadn’t been the only one to make it--Petra had helped.

Dammit…

He’d just have to let it sit there until he could figure out what he was going to do with it.  He could speculate on conspiracy theories about what it was meant to be, if it really was anything more than a gift, until he figured out how he was going to handle it.

It really could be what she said, though--a gift for the holidays and a thank you, maybe even a peace offering in the hopes things wouldn’t continue to be so tense between them.  The contention would continue, though, until he found out what she was hiding.

Levi settled back into what he’d been doing before she came to his office, looking over the details Erwin had provided him, a small frown on his face as he looked over official documents and police reports that were roughly forty years old about a double homicide in the town that had spawned local legends and horror stories to frighten children.  Why was this included in the report Erwin gave him?  One of the two victims was the girl that L/N shared a first name with, the only thing resembling a tangible connection to the town she claimed as her hometown that Erwin could find.

He was going to have to talk to Erwin and try to get a day or two off so he could go investigate in person.  He needed more information than what was in these reports, and he would only find what he wanted by going there in person.

Once more, there was a knock on the door, this time followed immediately by a familiar voice calling, “Captain?”

Ah, this was a meeting he’d been waiting for.

“You can come in, Petra,” he called, finally putting away Erwin’s reports in a safe place as Petra entered the room and headed for Levi’s desk.  She didn’t bother asking why he asked her to meet him, simply took a seat and waited for him to speak.

“What do you think about our new member?” Levi asked after he got settled in his seat.  Petra’s surprised eyes wandered to the gift still sitting on the desk, a questioning look in her eyes even though she complied to answering his question.

“Do you mean in skills or compatibility?” Petra asked for clarification after a moment’s hesitation.

“Compatibility.”

He was already well aware of her skills--she wouldn’t have even been placed as an aid in the squad if she didn’t have skills to become one of the elite.  Skill was one of the first things he looked at when choosing squad members.

Petra seemed even more confused that he was asking after her personality more than anything, but again, she didn’t question him.

“She’s quiet and reserved, for the most part, but after spending a couple weeks with her, once you manage to get her to open up she has a warm and caring personality.  She’s a little socially timid, though, I’m sure you’ve noticed; like she’s thinking of how she should act before she does or says something.  At least at first, before she gets more comfortable and gets into the flow of conversation.”

Petra paused to consider, a small frown on her face.  “She’s a creature of habit, that’s for sure--she’s always wearing the same necklace, all the time--I’ve never seen her without it, and there’s certain places she’s always at during certain times of the day.  I’m a little worried about her health, though.  I didn’t notice it at first, but she hardly seems to eat.  She doesn’t get much on her plate, and she’s always smuggling things that are safe for horses to eat to the stables to bribe the horses instead of eating it herself.  She doesn’t seem affected, not yet anyway, but I’m still worried about it.”

Taking the mental notes for later in case that information proved important, Levi pressed a little further.  “What about the others?  It seems like she’s fitting in well.”

Petra nodded.  “She’s getting lessons of some kind from almost everyone, and she’s been a lot better about being social.  She’s making a genuine effort to be a part of the squad, and to be perfectly honest, I like having her around.”

“Anything else?”

Petra’s gaze flickered over to the box sitting on the desk again.  ��If it’s not too presumptuous, Captain--I don’t know what impression she made when you two first met.  She mentioned it may not have been the best first impression, but...she really is trying to be worth the chance she’s been given to be a part of this squad, and her attempts appear genuine to me.  Perhaps give her another chance to make a better impression.”

Levi didn’t answer her, and he kept his expression unreadable so she wouldn’t see his reaction to her words.  It was more incentive for him to close this messy chapter, and it helped clear up his thoughts on how to act going forward if this secret didn’t turn out to be something crazy like treason or murder.

“Thank you, Petra.  You can go, now,” Levi finally answered in an indifferent voice.  Petra got up and gave a quick salute, then quietly left the room without any further comment.  Once she was gone, Levi got to his feet with a slight sigh.

He needed to see Erwin.

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags:  @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier@whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea​

Wings in the Dark Tags:  @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs @sociallyanxiousmouse

#Levi #aot levi #levi aot #snk levi #levi snk #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi heichou #attack on titan levi #levi attack on titan #levi x reader #captain levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot levi x reader #captain levi x vampire!reader #levi x vampire!reader #aot levi x vampire!reader #levi ackerman x vampire!reader #vampire!reader #reader insert #fem!reader #female!reader #levi fanfiction #levi fan fiction #levi fanfic #levi fan fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fan fiction #levi ackerman fan fic #levi ackerman fanfic

[need-a-fugue]

Trustworthy (Chapter 4)

Summary: You’ve spent the last three years teaming up with Santiago Garcia on every mission you had a hand in coordinating… and the past several months plotting with him to take down the biggest bad to hit your radar. But even all your time at the DEA and all your experience in the field couldn’t have prepared you for this.

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader (slow burn)

Warnings: Violence, language

Okay, yeah, sure, fine, you and Santi might not have been 100% honest about what you were planning in the jungle.

In fairness, neither of you ever actually said that this recon mission was at the behest of the CNP or Colombian military or any other government entity. You may have hinted at it. You may have neglected to correct the guys when they assumed. But you never actually told them that anyone had requested the raid on Lorea’s house.

What you had said was that there was a good chance this could turn into… something more. Something that might end up in a hefty pay day for all of you. You just never told the group of men that you and Garcia were actually banking on it.

You didn’t love the idea of lying to a bunch of strangers whom – if they agreed to everything – would end up holding your very life in their hands. Frankly, just the thought of doing so felt… sleezy. Especially considering that these men were Santi’s trusted friends. His brothers. But Santiago insisted that it needed to be played this way – They’ll never go for it if we tell them what we’re really up to. But I promise you, bonita, once they’re here, once they see… they’ll be all in.

He clearly knew his team because after just that single two-hour recce, a couple rounds of beers at a local bar, and a rather stirring, pointed speech, they were, in fact, all in.

And why not, really? The only one of them who had anything to lose – a family beyond those seen at the occasional holiday, wedding, or funeral – was Tom. And he’d been struggling so badly lately with impending alimony and child support and two kids’ worth of college tuitions – eight years minimum – that the money alone did all of their convincing for them.

It was illegal, yes. It was, as the captain said, “downright criminal.” But it wasn’t wrong. And as long as everything went according to plan, no one would know anything about any of it.

In the end, the world would be down at least one piece-of-shit, megalomaniacal drug lord murderer.

Some of the struggling people of Leticia – because you and Santi had promised each other and Yovanna that you’d drop a good chunk of the money into the hands of local charities – would have better lives.

Tom’s girls could go to college without having to worry about paying off student loans until they die.

Will could finally get rid of his old junker and buy a nice car – maybe not the Ferrari Ben was angling for, but a nice car all the same – to get him back and forth across the country for all those rousing speeches he insisted he would not stop giving.

Benny could invest in better training, at better gyms with better equipment… and real trainers. Or, hell, he could give all that shit up and quit getting his ass handed to him by kids ten years his junior, all in the hopes of capturing what was almost always one hell of a disappointing purse.

And Frankie? Well, Frankie wasn’t sure what he’d do with his share. But it sure would be nice to not have to worry so damn much. To not have to scramble to make the house payment every month. To not have to beg that dick who owns the local airfield to let him take on a few jobs just so he could settle into a cockpit for a bit. To maybe have the time – and funds – to take a woman on a date every now and then… not that he had a clue who that woman might be.

And you and Santi? Well, after years of accomplishing nothingin the fight against Lorea – the fight against the drug trade that had ruined and taken so many lives around the world – you two could finally say that you’d actually made a difference. Even if you couldn’t quite say it aloud for everyone to hear.

000

By the time you get to the compound early Sunday morning, rain’s already been falling for hours. The area’s nearly flooded, so your off-road path is basically a sprawling swampland. You barely slept, your hip is aching like crazy from an old injury, and the minute you step out of the SUV you damn near squeal like a stuck pig as you suddenly sink up to your calf in thick, sucking mud.

“Shit,” Frankie mutters under his breath – under a breathless laugh, you’re pretty sure – as he hops out and wraps a steadying arm around your waist. “Let me help,” he says, the words so soft, you can barely hear them over the unyielding pounding of the rain.

You try to balance, holding onto the door, one foot just barely sinking into the soft earth as Frankie leans down to pry the other from what feels like an utterly engulfing quicksand. He struggles, still holding you around the waist while his left hand works to grip your leg, your boot, your ankle… whatever he can wrap his fingers around. But it’s no use. The op has yet to even begin and already you’re stuck. In the disgusting mud. Deep in the endless jungle. With no hope of ever getting out.

You let out a painfully dramatic, completely despairing sigh and glance up only to see Benny laughing. Really laughing… not even trying to hide his utter, unabashed amusement at your awful predicament. You shoot him as threatening a glare as you can muster. But it only makes him laugh harder.

“Go get into position,” Tom orders, slapping him on the shoulder and shaking his head – once again in a seemingly all-too-practiced dadway – before he bends down to help Frankie out.

Finally, finally, the two men manage to free you. Shockingly, your boot leaves the earth as well, though you can feel the muck inside squelching beneath your instep and in between your toes. Your lip curls in disgust as you haphazardly wipe the boot – bottom, sides, and top – on the wheel well, a bit of mud getting squeezed out near your ankle as you do so. “I’m gonna get jungle rot,” you mutter bitterly as you continue to smear grime along the body of the SUV.

Tom swats your leg away. “Just be sure you don’t give away your location with all the squishing,” he says with a hint of a smile. Then, patting Frankie on the back, he finishes with a much more stern, “Let’s do this,” and takes off to find his position, face and shoulders both set as he easily drops into soldier mode.

“I’m still not sure if I like that guy,” you begin as you and Frankie head for the high ground, “or really freaking hate him.”

He bites out a quick laugh, turns to show off that too-damn-perfect smile, and replies with an easygoing, “Yup.”

Once you make it out of your drop-in point, everything else seems to be smooth sailing. The worst part is just waiting, especially with the rain. Waiting for Garcia’s informant to drop off the van. Waiting for the guards to leave for church, the family not so quickly following suit. Waiting for the guys to move in – Frankie shooting a quick wink alongside, “Watch my six,” as he heads out to join them. Waiting for the all-clear from Benny before you can finally enter the house yourself.

The house. Lorea’s house.

You’d been waiting for this for too damn long. Years of hunting the man had led to these last few months of building out this very plan with Santiago… and then to the last week of recon and final plans with these soldiers whom you barely even know. For all of the initial mistrust heaped upon you by them – and you honestly don’t blame them for any of it – the truth is, they know they have each other to depend on. You’re the odd man out here. You’re the one who should be questioning them… their dedication to this mission. Their loyalty to Santi, and by extension, to you. Their desire to end Lorea’s reign of terror.

You’re in this to take that man out. And if just one of these guys decides that’s not going to happen – for whatever reason – you’re shit out of luck. You should trust them only as far as you can throw them, which would be… not very far. But as you catch sight of Ben standing inside the front door, eagerly waving you in, and as you see the trail of blood leading into the kitchen, a voice over the coms calmly declaring, we had to shoot one of the guards in the leg, something inside of you shifts and settles and all of the worries about who may or may not be trustworthy simply flit away to nothing.

But other concerns quickly rise to take their place.

Watching the highly trained special ops team move about you – each man light-footed and fluid, so quiet that their breathing is nearly inaudible, even as one of them leans over your shoulder from his position behind – is nerve wracking enough to make your legs begin to tremble. You knew what you were getting into here. You knew that this would be dangerous, that it would require a certain level of skill and technique and training. But it isn’t until you actually see these men – these elite soldiers – in action that you realize how woefully inept and unprepared you are in comparison.

Self-doubt begins to seep from the cracks now forming in your carefully crafted façade. Uncertainty, insecurity, fear starts to build up and rise within you, burning like bile creeping up the back of your throat. By the time you and Santiago finish the second sweep of the downstairs and begin climbing the steps to the second-story landing, your entire body is vibrating with regretful apprehension.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you hear as you approach the study upstairs. It’s the room where your informant took the picture of the stacks of cash after her delivery, the holding area where all of Lorea’s blood money sat, just waiting to be counted. But when you enter, there’s no money to be found, just pissed-off-looking soldiers surrounded by the empty bags they had planned to fill with cash.

“Your girl burned us,” Frankie mutters blankly, eyes full of regret and annoyance as he leans heavily against one wall. His dark gaze collides with yours for just a fraction of a moment before he shakes his head and breathes out, “We gotta get outta here.”

Your brow crinkles in confusion, all of the insecurity bubbling through your body suddenly settling and getting replaced by a sort of righteous indignation. “Whoa, wait,” you spit out, sidestepping Santi and rushing to the center of the room. “We’re not leaving. We’re not done here.”

Will gives you an almost disappointed look and blankly mutters, “Nothing here, sweetheart,” before dropping heavily into a chair in the corner.

You shake your head, a pointed certainty to your words as you level him with a heated stare and say, “Lorea’s here. He’s always here. He does not leave.”

Tom scoffs. “Yeah, well, he left today,” he says, tone full of spite. “And he took the money with him.”

You spin to face him, “No,” pouring from your lips in a firm and unyielding tenor. “He’s here. And so is the money.”

“We did a full sweep,” Will breathes out.

“So we’ll do another,” Santiago chimes in, suddenly at your back.

You look around at all the forlorn faces and roll your eyes, realizing all at once that, for all their training in war, these men don’t have a freaking clue about the kinds of things you deal with in your job. They’re used to encountering soldiers – enemy combatants, trained mercenaries, militias… people who’s purpose is to fight. That’s not what Lorea is. That’s not what he does. He didn’t move deep into the jungle to fight, to wage war, to build an army. He came here to hide.

“You guys are fucking idiots,” you declare with a huff. “I once spent two hours tearing apart a houseboat before finding the guy we were after squatting in a hidden cutout near the bilge. A few years ago, we found fifty thousand dollars under a false bottom in a hot tub while serving a search warrant. Another raid ended with us tearing apart a kid’s tree house that had cash hidden under the floorboards. You think because Lorea isn’t sitting here behind his desk, counting his millions like fucking Scrooge McDuck that they’re not here? That he’s not here?”

“Didn’t McDuck swim in his money?” Benny inquires from behind, the question earning quick huff of a laugh from his brother.

You feel Santi step away from your side. “She’s right,” he says, his eyes dancing around the room, looking for… something. They land on a mostly empty can of paint, and he smiles, sniffing quickly at the air. “Fresh paint.”

Tom’s eyes widen and tick towards the wall to his left as his lips split and out pours what you had all along seen as being an obvious truth. “The house is the safe.”

000

When it rains, it pours. You’d been the one to say that, to inanely mutter the adage through the coms with a huff as Benny took off back inside the house – the safe – while you sat in the now heavily weighted van, so full of money that the suspension sags to the point of extremeconcern.

The guards are coming back, the sound of their SUV’s engine just barely chugging atop the steady beating of the downpour that had engulfed you all for the past few hours. They’re coming back, and everyone but you is still inside.

Call it greed. Call it vindictiveness. Call it whatever the fuck you want. But you all had agreed to get as much plata out of that house as possible, to fill the cars to the freaking brim with as much of that motherfucker’s money – his lifeblood, his love, his everything – before setting fire to the whole damn thing. You’d been in this business long enough to know that bringing down one cartel merely opens up a door for others to grow. But still, the idea of watching Lorea’s empire burn makes you wet in a way the torrential rain beating on the roof on the van never could.

You toss a glance back, over you shoulder at the mound of duffel bags, a child’s suitcase thrown into the pile as well, all filled to bursting with cash. It’s pretty unbelievable. Incredible. You’d never been the type to really worry about money, no more so than the average guy. But damn if being surrounded by millions of dollars doesn’t make you a little lightheaded. And the fact that it’s Lorea’s money?

Despite Santi’s little bullshit pep talk the other night about how all of you deserve this – for serving your country and fighting for what’s right… blah, blah, blah – you honestly don’t feel like you deserve this money any more than anyone else. But Lorea sure as shit doesn’t deserve it. And you trust yourself – and each of these men by your side – to put it to far better use than he ever would.

You can’t see the guards, can’t see the SUV carrying them from your vantage point in the van. But Benny had told you to stay put, he’d get the others and he wanted you ready to drive as soon as they came out. Still, you know now that the first car must’ve arrived at the compound because – aside from the steady pounding of the rain and the wild pulse of your heartbeat echoing in your ears – everything is suddenly silent. No more hum of an engine. No choppy callouts over the radio as Ben seeks out the guys. Everything is silent and still. Until… pop-pop, short and sudden, muffled by the thick walls of the house.

Over the coms you hear – in a calm, controlled tone – Two down in the entryway. Another sharp pop, followed by a voice you’ve come to easily recognize. That’s three.

There’s something in the way their words are uttered, something in the utterly placid tenor of each of their voices. Something also to the sparse shots – so unlike the rapid, automatic gunfire you’re used to being thrown into amid scared and untrained local police and inexperienced, foolhardy kids hired as cheap labor by the cartels. There’s something about the way they all rush suddenly into your line of sight – fast but calm, controlled – as they pour out of the house, a few racing past to find the guards’ SUV, the sounds of their footfalls and quick breaths nearly drowning out the whir of the engine as you turn the ignition. There’s something about it all that leaves you feeling – despite the fact that things did not go as planned and you can see that all-too-recognizable, pissed-off scowl tugging at Santiago’s features as he flies past your window – calm as well. Safe, even.

Frankie climbs quickly into the passenger side of the van just as you fire up the engine, Will slowly pulling himself into the seat behind him. “Shit,” you mutter, eyes widening as you take in the grimace on the man’s face, the blood on his hands and shirt. “What the hell happened?”

“S’fine,” he tells you, punctuating the statement with a nod, a directive to look forward. “Let’s move.”

You put the van in gear and hit the gas, maneuvering steadily through the compound and towards the front entrance. “Did you get shot?” you inquire again, your voice showing less concern and more simple curiosity.

“Yeah,” he groans, a thick breath hitching as you hit a particularly big bump in the road. “Your friend Lorea popped out of his little hidey hole and got me. Guess you called that.”

You whip around to face him, eyes now like damn saucers. “You got him?”

Frankie grabs your arm and gives a little tug to get you turn back towards the front, only speaking, answering for Will, once you do so, once you settle a still-wild stare on the path ahead, “Yeah. Pope took him out. He’s dead.”

You say nothing for a long moment, letting those words seat inside of you. He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. How long have you wanted to hear those words? How long have you been gunning for that son of a bitch, waiting for someone to take him out… hoping that someone might be you? Santi doing it is the next best thing, you figure.

A sudden explosion lights up in front of you as you approach the gate and Benny blows past it, and past the van, angrily muttering to himself all the while. “He looks pissed,” you comment blithely, looking to Frankie for something akin to permission before flooring it and ramming through the gate like you’re just itching to do.

He gives a staunch nod forward. “Can’t blame him,” he says, capping it off with a softer, rather encouraging, “Go for it.”

You hit the gas, glancing in the rearview mirror and asking, “The others are in the SUV?” as the guards’ car pulls up behind you and waits for Ben to jump in.

Frankie nods – “Yeah.” – and his eyes suddenly tick your way, narrowing a bit as they rove your body before coming to rest on your hands as they tightly grip the wheel.

“What?” you ask, feeling his stare burn into you.

Will laughs from behind – a swift, stilted thing that tells you just how much pain he’s actually in – and lets out an amused, “Fish always drives.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, voice dripping with put-on sincerity as you continue down the unpaved road. “Do you want me to pull over?”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s no hiding the plainly obvious pout tugging at his lips when he looks over at you and mutters, “Just watch where you’re going.”

The first half or so of the long drive up to the airfield is spent in tense silence. You don’t fight it, don’t force any sort of conversation, don’t inquire about what exactly happened in that house. You can tell that these men need a long-ass moment to come down from everything. Hell, your own adrenaline still has your pulse thrumming endlessly through your ears. And you’d been safely ensconced inside this van for most of the action. It’s not like you had to fight your way out of there. It’s not like you got shot.

Your eyes bounce up to the rearview mirror, finding Will curled into himself in the backseat. “How you doing, Ironhead?” you ask, purposefully infusing the ridiculous name with a mocking intonation.

He looks up and catches your gleaming eyes in the mirror, notes your slight smirk, and gruffly replies, “Well, I’m not dead yet.”

“It’s just a flesh wound,” Frankie supplies from your right. He spins around to give his friend a quick once over. “He’s fine.”

“That’s awfully presumptuous,” you challenge, raising a brow. “Didn’t see you coming out of there with a new hole in your body.”

“Didn’t realize you were so focused on my body,” he returns with a bit of a lilt.

Will groans loudly from the back. “Don’t start flirting up there,” he practically orders before the no-argument tone slips into something softer, almost jovial. “I’m suffering enough back here as is.”

“You’re fine,” Frankie shoots back, turning bodily in his seat and craning his head towards his friend. “You act like you’ve never been shot before.”

“I’m retired,” he replies. “Think I forgot how much this sucks.”

You nod, almost to yourself, emitting a simple, assenting, “Yeah.”

Frankie leans back, still remaining sideways in the seat, his stare now wholly on you. You glance over and see his brow scrunch in… is it concern? Or merely curiosity? “You’ve been shot?” he asks, an odd edge to his voice.

Again, you nod. “I have. Didn’t care for it.”

“See, Fish,” Will mumbles from the back as he slips further down the seat in an effort to find some semblance of comfort. “Maybe you’ve been so busy flying around rich businessmen in the private sector that you’ve also forgotten how shitty this is.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” he mutters with a frown.

Will cocks his head at you – not that you can see it, eyes remaining trained on the road lest you get another watch where you’re goingevil stare from the man by your side. “What happened to you, sweetheart?”

You snort out a short laugh, glancing quickly at Frankie and saying softly – and more than a little bit condescendingly – “He likes to call me sweetheart.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the man in the back sighs out, waving a dismissive hand through the air. “Guess I’m just a run-of-the-mill chauvinist.”

You shrug. “I never said anything about you being run-of-the-mill.” And from your right, you hear a soft snicker. A gentle smile spreads across your face and your hands loosen their death grip on the steering wheel just a bit as you feel the air filling the van begin to lighten, tension seeming to slowly spill away. After a lingering – but not at all wrought – moment, you shift a bit in your seat and say, “Went on a raid just outside of Tijuana. My first down in Mexico. And I took a bullet in the hip.”

“Shit,” Will intones. “Hell of a bienvenido.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, suddenly all-too conscious of the old ache in your joint that’s been plaguing you all day. “But on the plus side, I’m now always the first to know when it’s about to rain.”

Both men laugh. You laugh – despite the pain in your hip and the worry about the guy in back… and your terribly distracting infatuation with the wide smile now painted on Frankie’s face. You all sit in the van – on your way to flee the country after committing a terrible crime – and laugh about the fact that, despite each of you being a little bit broken, none of you are dead yet.

Taglist:

@tweedlydumbtweedlydoo @icanbeyourjedi @greeneyedblondie44 @mrscrain-x7 @kyjoraven@elephants-are-a-thing @nakhudanyx

#frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #pope garcia #santiago pope garcia #frankie morales x you #will ironhead miller #benny miller #triple frontier fic

[neverthrive]

Just gonna leave this old ass fanfic here

Adventuring is a rewarding occupation, providing an abundance of wealth, the respect of peers, and even a fulfilling sense of self worth. Even so, the constant action takes its toll, and every once in a great while an adventurer has to take a step back, breathe in deeply, and just get away from it all. Which is exactly what Jake had been planning for himself and his human brother.

It was a simple idea; take a break from their regular schedule of evil slaying, butt-kickery and all around, nonstop awesomeness. Find some remote location that holds nothing but tranquility in store for the duo to just chillax at for a few days. Just the two of them, a dog and his boy. It was perfect, but like any other well laid plan, there was a monkey wrench destined to find its way into the cogs of said perfection and jam Jake's precise synchronization up something awful. This particular monkey wrench goes by the name of Marceline.

"What are you dweebs up to?" Inquired a melodically cynical voice that belonged to none other than the ancient noirette in question. Marceline stared down ever curiously at the mixed species siblings and their growing mess as she liesurely drifted on the air over their heads. From what she could tell, her mortal friends appeared to be gathering heaps of useless garbage and stowing the junk in their already cramped luggage, for some reason or another.

Finn took a moment to acknowledge the vampire's presence, looking up from his loaded pack to face her. "I'm not actually sure, myself... Jake just told me to start packing my crud, and I guess that's what I'm doing, so does that answer your question?"

"Not in the least." she replied curtly before turning her now suspicious gaze in Jake's direction. The dog paid Marceline no mind as he continued to toss his various and mostly useless possessions into a sack. A rubber duck, a length of rope, a jar of peanuts, a pair of socks... Finally, he stored two empty glass bottles and closed the sack, still oblivious to the vampire's questioning stare. "Jake, what the plum is with all the hullabaloo?"

"Nope." Jake snapped, mildly irritated.

"'Nope'? Nope what?" She pressed him, ignoring the dog's tone.

"No. I'm not gonna tell you because you'll just want to come with us and muck it up. It's s'pose to be just me and mah bro, and you have no part in it. So no, Marceline, you can't come camping with us." Jake retorted in his best attempt at sounding authoritative, but in trying to iterate just how serious he was, the fact that he was suppose to be withholding information had slipped his mind a tad. He soon realized his mistake and growled in frustration. "Forget I said that last part!" But ironically, that last part about ignoring that previous last part was ignored by both teens.

"We're going camping?" Finn and Marceline asked in unison, excitement bubbling up in their throats.

"Yes, Finn, WE are. And no, Marceline, WE are not. Got it?" Jake answered pointedly. "It's camping time with Finn and Jake. I didn't hear Marceline anywhere in there, so step off sister!"

"Well fine! Maybe I didn't want to go on your stupid trip anyway!" Marceline pouted sorely and turned to leave, but Finn, being the model peacekeeper he is, blocked his friend's exit. "Get out of the way, Finn. I'm obviously not wanted here anymore." The vampire queen tried to push the boy aside, but no matter how hard she shoved, the squishy blob of flesh and heroism persisted to keep her from leaving.

"Come on, Jake's just being a butt. You don't have to leave on account o' him bein' a Mr. grumpy pants." Finn gently wrapped a hand around Marceline's forearm and began to lead her back over to his brother so as amends could be made.

"He doesn't even wear pants, dude." she huffed out in retortion as she let herself be pulled back towards the junk heaps that the magical dog was still busying himself with sorting through and packing into napsacks and suitcases and the like.

"Jake..." Finn verbally nudged his brother to outstretch the olive branch to Marceline, but an apology seemed hesitant in forthcoming. "Come on, man. You know you done bad in yourself bro, and I know you know how to make it right again." Finn's prompt appeared to have worked this time, eliciting a defeated sigh from Jake.

Dropping his bags of assorted and worthless loot, Jake turned to face Marceline who now had her arms crossed over her chest and was avoiding eye contact with him. "Look, I'm sorry, alright?" Marceline untensed a bit at that. "It's not you, It's just that I really wanted to have some bro time with Finn, y'know? To recapture those times we used to share when we was wee pups." Jake inhaled deeply, breathing in the musty scent lingering about from the, until recently, long forgotten contents of that once overstuffed closet in the corner. He had a feeling in his gut that he'd regret this decision later, and his gut was almost never wrong, but he couldn't ignore his guilt and empathy for Marceline. She just wanted to hang with her friends. "So... You want to come with us, then?"

The vampire's sour mood dissipated immediately, her pout rapidly shifting to a grin stretched from pointed ear to pointed ear. "Heck yes I wanna go camping with you guys! So when are we leaving?" Marceline asked almost giddily.

"Well I guess since you're coming with us, we probably shouldn't be heading out 'til just before sundown." Jake answered thoughtfully. Having so much time before they were to depart allowed Jake some spare moments to cool it with all the preparations and freed up his thinkin' schedule a bit. Suddenly, a thought pervaded his mind that the dog rather took a shining to. "If we're bringing guests along now, Lady Rainicorn's coming too!" and with that, Jake took off to go inform his girlfriend of how he'd decided she would be spending the next few days. The matter was entirely non negotiable.

Finn and Marceline stood idly by as Jake hastily absconded out through a nearby window. The young hero turned to his immortal friend "You know, he actually does wear pants..."

"Really?"

"Yup."

A quarter hour before dusk would settle in, the four campers had reached the landing Jake scouted out beforehand. It was a small pocket within the forest, not too far from a river, vacant enough to comfortably fit everyone but with a dense enough canopy to shade any vampire from daylight at high noon. Having acquired a suitable base of operations, the only thing left standing in between Jake and his cherished relaxation was setting up camp. The duties were divied up between two groups.

"So Lady and I are gonna pitch our tent, by ours I mean hers and mine. I don't know what either of you are doing so... Sleep under the stars or whatever. But also, we need a campfire, so you guys should maybe gather some sticks and twigs and stuff, and it'll be math. 'Kay." Jake then spoke something in a language neither Finn nor Marceline could comprehend to Lady, who laughed in response, and the two magical creatures diligently began piecing together the frame of their shared tent. The rainicorn giggled lightly every time Jake slipped a tent pole into the corresponding connector she held.

Marceline narrowed her eyes at the spectacle and made a face. "Gross..." She thought it best to linger around the couple and their disgusting adorableness as little as inhumanly possible and began to head towards the surrounding thickets. Finn soon followed suit, tailing behind his friend into the thick of the forest to gather materials for their fire.

"So like, sticks, huh?" The human remarked as he bent over to scoop a discarded twig from the earth.

Marceline turned to see Finn's pitiful offering. Their fire would need a lot more fuel than some measly green branches. "No man, we need bigger stuff than that." she explained. "And preferably a little more dead." she added.

"Bigger?" Finn thought it over for a moment. "Alright, bigger." Turning to face a tree, the stout teenager grappled the trunk and with all his might attempted to pry the poor unsuspecting eudicot from the soil. "I need your wood, tree! Give it up, yo!" Finn continued his struggle while Marceline cackled at his random act of foolishness.

Seeing no sign of Finn relenting any time soon, his undead friend intervened. "Finn, we don't need a whole tree. And you most def don't gotta yank one out'a the ground. C'mere, ya goober." she beckoned while barely supressing her laughter. Finn looked from Marceline then back to the tree in his grasp, releasing the bark from his grip and gaining nothing from his efforts but sore arms.

"Look," she pointed to a fallen branch that looked as if it'd been laying on the forest floor for a few seasons now. "This is the kind of stuff we're gonna need. Big enough to burn, and not impossible to pick up, got it? Now get it." Finn did as instructed, bending to take the dry, rough chunk of high octane campfire fuel in his arms. "Alright, now just find a lot more like it and we're good to light 'em up."

"How many more?" Finn asked wearily.

"I don't know. Lots, I suppose. Have to keep it going for a while." she replied, venturing deeper into the woods to search for any more decent firewood she might per chance stumble upon. Figuratively, that is, it's hard to sumble when your feet don't touch the ground.

"Bleh..." Despite his contempt for such menial labor, Finn once again followed the vampire to gather what they needed. It was an easy enough job, but way too dang boring for a man of action. Finn needed excitement, and lugging sticks around wasn't providing.

When they'd finished gathering the firewood and the time came to actually light the fire, Finn demanded he be the one to do the deed. And so there they sat across from one another, a neatly arranged pile of dead wood between them. Finn furiously stroked the sticks together in a fruitless attempt to catalyze a spark.

"This usually works! These things must be broken, or something..." Finn pouted and heaved the useless wooden shafts into the nearby shrubbery in frustration.

"Here," Marceline moved herself closer to the bundle and spawned a small flame in the palms of her hands. Touching the flame to the tinder, the pile of miniature lumber and bark ignited almost instantly. Finn stared down at the blazing fire, then glanced up to Marcleline, a smug, toothy smirk plastered across her face.

"You cheated!" he yelped, pointing accusingly at the girl who succeeded so easilly where he so miserably failed.

"Finn, don't be jelly of my totally sweet vampire powers." Marceline replied, her expression never faltering.

"I'm not jelly! Maybe jam, but not jelly. Just admit you cheated! Vampire powers is cheating fo' sure." he insisted.

"Nope." The vampire playfully let her forked tongue slide out from between her fangs, mocking the disgruntled human.

"Whatever..."

"Hey, you guys made the fire! Rad!" Jake exclaimed as he padded his way over to the two from his now fully assembled tent.

"Yeah, we totally did it! 100% group effort here." Marceline chimed almost sarcastically. "So who wants to roast marshmallows?"

"... Then the puppy looked under his bed, and saw two glowing green eyes! The pup was so scared, it almost wee wee'd!" Finn stood over his three friends, the crackling fire below lighting his features in distorted illumination. He raised both hands above his head, digits stretched and curled as claws in the most menacing display the boy could muster. "The nebelung under the bed reached out to the scared little puppy and..." Finn paused, turning to Jake who'd heard the story right along with Finn in their youth and knew what came next. "TICKLED THE PUPPY!" Finn pounced on his brother and poked his wriggling fingers into the dog's soft flanks. Jake snorted and snickered at the human's tickle attack as the two women watched on. Lady found the sight to be quite amusing, adorable even. Marceline just sucked the red from a can of kidney beans in stark indifference.

"If you two are done with your brotherly gropefest yet, maybe I could tell a real ghost story?" Marceline cut their fun short and assumed her position over the campfire as current story teller as the brothers returned to their seats. "This isn't the first time I've been in these parts of the woods. I came through here some years back, how long ago exactly is a little fuzzy. But I wasn't alone. No, I had friends with me, just like I do now, and just like now, there was a dog among my group.

"We were just hiking through, you see, we had no intentions of staying. No, that would be foolish! We knew better, we'd heard the stories of what happens around here after dark. Weird stuff... Spooky happenings, y'know? But the dog, he got lost-"

"Oh no! Not the dog! The dog always dies first!" Jake interrupted with his sudden fearful outburst.

"Well anyway..." Marceline shot him a scornful look, and continued. "The dog must have started straggling, because when we stopped to rest, he was nowhere to be found. Of course we looked for him, we stayed together as a group, we weren't about to split up so we'd all be lost in 'The Forsaken Forest'. But no matter where we searched, there was no sign of the poor lost doggy. It wasn't 'til well after dark when we found him. He was huddled in a bush maybe twenty or so yards from where he was last seen, shaking uncontrollably with his face in his hands.

"He wouldn't show us his face. He just kept on mumbling some nonsense about 'whispering trees' and 'eyeball rockets'. When we finally pried the dog's hands from his face, he had no eyes! Just two gaping sockets where his looking globes used to be! Once we got him to calm down, he told us the whispering trees of the forsaken forest used some hoodoo to turn his eyeballs into jet packs and they flew right off of his face. Wait..." Marceline stiffened and tilted her head to one side as if intently listening to some faint noise off in the distance. "Did you guys hear that?"

"Hear what?" Jake squeaked, cowering into his girfriend's embrace. Cuddling with Lady Rainicorn made him feel secure, but it wasn't enough to make him totally forget he was in the alleged 'Foresaken Forest'.

"It sounds like..." she leaned in toward Jake, and with a completely straight face, with a hint of what might pass for something distraught in her tone, answered "Whispering."

That's all Jake needed to hear. He gave his friends a surprise performance of his scream song and tore off to his tent as fast as his four legs would carry him, separating himself from the 'evil' trees outside with a thin layer of nylon. No way in the flippin' Night-o-Sphere was he letting some piney mischief makers steal his precious eyes. Lady chuckled and followed after him, knowing Jake wouldn't be able to sleep alone tonight after that fright.

Finn and Marceline shared a laugh at Jake's expense. When their howling merriment subsided, they realized they were alone once more. Finn fed a few more branches from their dwindling supply into the blaze, stoking the flames.

"So, have you really been out in these woods before?" The boy asked, now feeling uneasy not knowing if the vampire's story was true or not. Finn'd witnessed stranger things, so believing tall tales came easily to him.

"Yeah, I have. But not how you're thinking I did, that story was bogus." Finn was relieved. "Naw, my old man took me camping somewhere around here when I was younger, before that whole 'fry incident' happened. It's one of the more pleasant memories I have from my upbringing." Marceline sighed and watched the flames consume their fresh meal through hazy, half lidded eyes. The age-old young woman contently recalled the time she and her father shared out in this forest so many years ago.

"Is that why you like camping?" Finn pulled her out of her train of thought. "Becuase your dad brought you?"

"Yeah, probably." she admitted. "It's just nice to chill out in the wild, with some friends or family or whatever. It's kind of peaceful. So how 'bout you, Finn? Have you ever been camping?"

"Well, once pop took me, Jake and Jermaine out for a weekend of fishing. Y'know, a father and his boys." Finn still missed his parents, they were such kind old folk. No one else would look twice at the human freak, but they raised him as their own. "But it was actually just the back yard, there was a pond there too, and we were told we couldn't go inside the house 'til the weekend was over. Dad made us some sort of little shelter out of some dead trees and ferns and all we ate was the fish we caught, but Dad made sure to stock the pond with lots of fish beforehand, so we had plenty. It was a pretty good time, even if it wasn't the wilderness like this."

"It's not where you're at, Finn, all that matters is who you're with." Marceline asserted, and felt a certain truth to her words resonate. In her experience, this was an immutable fact, in good company, fond memories could be made anywhere. Finn always seemed like good company, and he'd given the vampire an abundance of fresh memories she hoped would not fade any time soon.

"Yeah," Finn nodded gingerly. "that's deep." The human stretched his arms wide and yawned in deeply. It was getting late, and an adolecsent boy needs his sleep. "I'm gonna hit the sack."

Finn took a few paces away from the campfire and found one of the various packs he'd brought with him on this excursion at the base of a large tree. Opening the zipper, he reached inside and withdrew a very large, very new looking gortex sleeping bag and unrolled the bundle of fluff and warmth, laying it across the ground. The tuckered hero wasted no time before hopping into the over sized, silky feeling cocoon, but before he could drift of to the land of Sweet dreams, he was disturbed by a familiar voice.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" demanded the very abandoned feeling vampire queen.

"You're nocturnal." Finn retorted bluntly before rolling over to face away from the dying fire.

"But I've been up all day!" she protested. "My sleep schedule is wack, and it's pretty much entirely your fault."

"Hey, it's your own choice to pester us during the day. You made your bed, now you gotta sleep in it. Hehe." Finn laughed at the irony of that figure of speech used in this particular instance and noted that he's not exactly one to be clever with irony, and it was mostly just coincidence, but an awesome coincidence at that. "Can't you just like, sleep hangin' from a tree or somethin'? Bats do that all the time."

"No! For one, that's actually an insulting generalization, and two, I don't think I can maintain myself in bat form while I'm sleeping." Marceline explained. It sounded logical enough of a reason to rule out sleeping in trees, and there was no way she was about to sleep atop the cold dirt. "Scootch over, I'm getting in with you." she ordered.

"No way! Why didn't you bring your own sleeping junk?" Finn countered.

"Because I didn't think of it and vampires were never bestowed with the gift of foresight, now make room!"

"You can't!" Finn barked.

"Why can't I?" she challenged.

"Because... You're a girl..." Finn's face brightened with reddish hugh.

"Are you saying you'd rather sleep with a boy?" Marceline asked slyly, raising an eyebrow in playful inquiry.

"Well no... But..." Finn sputtered, "This isn't fair!"

"Life ain't fair, get used to it," the dead girl shot back while making her way to Finn and his comfy looking sleeping bag that he was being oh so greedy trying to keep all to himself. Finn hesitated, but after seeing Marceline was dead set on gettin' all up in his bag, he reluctantly relented his opposition and allowed her entry, slipping in beside him.

Marceline noticed how spacious it was inside, still comfortable enough even with the both of them fully encased up to their necks in the puffy fabric, and she almost couldn't help but to be suspicious that Finn's end game was to share this sleeping bag with someone all along. Silly human, he'd only have to ask, no need for reverse psychology and mind games. But then she realized this was Finn she was thinking about and how his intentions never run any deeper than face value. Marceline couldn't see Finn, the genuine goober he is, devise some elaborate plan entailing sleeping bags and psychological warfare all to result in getting her to sleep with him, speaking only in the most literal sense of the term.

Then Marceline realized something else. She was dreadfully uncomfortably laying in this position. "Finn. I need a pillow." she informed.

Disturbed once more from the verge of slumber, Finn exhaled audibly and cracked his sore and crusty eyes. Scanning about the surrounding darkness for something that might sate the relentless vampire's pestering, Finn peered a fairly large, stout stone not far from where they lay. Removing his arms from the confines of the sleeping bag he was now being forced to share, he grabbed hold of the rock and placed it by Marceline's head with a dull thud. "Use that." he instructed coarsely before returning to his previous position and trying once more to sleep.

Marceline stared at the rock in awe for a long moment before deciding it was a horrible candidate for a pillow. No, she'd need something softer, with some give. Something... Squishy. And per chance, it just so happened that there was something exceedingly squishy laying right beside her. So with no further thought or reasoning, Marceline curled herself around Finn and layed her head on the softest point she could find between his shoulder and chest.

"What the flip are you doing?" The hero questioned when feeling his friend's arms snake around his body.

"Shut up." she hissed, momentarily lifting her head from his chest to make eye contact. "You're lumpin' comfortable, so deal with it. Now lay there and be quiet like a good pillow." And with that, she nuzzled back into the fleshy swells of Finn's torso.

As awkward as this situation was, Finn couldn't deny that it was maybe even a little pleasant. But also mostly uncomfortable, for him at least. So to right this, Finn hauled his arm out from beneath the cuddly vampire and repositioned it around Marceline, so now they were in some ungraceful, and clearly completely platonic embrace. Nope, nothing going on here, just a couple o' bros in a sleeping bag is all. Snuggling? Naw, none of that going on here, bro.

Feeling Finn's arm wrap around her back and rest somewhere near her waist, reciprocating her cuddle, Marceline grinned into the adolescent adventurer's chest. "I know you're enjoying this, probably more than you're letting yourself believe, but don't expect it to happen often." She took a moment to glance back up to meet Finn's embarrassed gaze. "You just so happened to have been the most comfortable place for me to spend the night." Reaching up to play with the ears of Finn's hat, she added "Y'know, you're no Hambo, but you're quite the snuggly little bear."

Finn's face flushed skarlet, or maybe it never stopped being that color, he couldn't tell. But either way, he definitely felt significantly warmer around the collar after that remark. He wasn't too sure he liked being Marceline's 'snuggly bear', he imagined it might be something reminiscent of what Lady Rainicorn would call Jake, if she spoke english. And Finn for sure didn't think he was ready to have with Marceline what Jake had with Lady. But here they were, closer to any other girl than he'd ever been, unburnt by her touch and unscalded by any callous words that carelessly fell from her mouth.

Finn gave some thought to this and realized it wouldn't be so bad to be more than simply friends with Marceline. She was probably the greatest gal he knew, and almost certainly the least complicated, even if that's not saying all too much. But he could easily envision their relationship taking a turn for the romantic. By the time he'd worked up the courage to profess that thought to her, a rather obnoxious snore seized his attention. Finn snapped his eyes down in his bed buddy's direction to find she'd already fallen fast asleep. So, the adventurer, pushing all silly thoughts of relationships aside, closed his eyes for what seemed like the umpteenth time that evening and was finally allowed rest.

It wasn't the muted sunlight shining through the leaves overhead, ticking at his eyelids, that woke Finn that morning, nor was it the stirring of the girl still in his arms. It was the earpiercing shriek of utter shock and surprise let loose from his older brother's agape maw. Finn's eyes shot open, sitting up quickly and turning his attention from Jake to Marceline, taking in the situation and how it might look to anyone outside of the sleeping bag.

"This probably isn't what it looks like!" Finn piped up defensively almost without thinking. His brain kicked in and told him that whenever someone says those particular words, it's almost always exactly what it looks like.

"Oh my grawd, dude! You guys didn't... Did you?" Jake gasped, flabbergasted. "Just tell me you kept it PG13, please."

"Dude, what the hey! We're both fully clothed, okay!" Finn stepped out of his sleeping bag to prove he was, in fact, not in the nude. "She just forgot to bring any camping gear, so I shared. Alright?"

"Yeah, alright... I guess I might have been overreacting a bit..." Jake mumbled ashamedly, averting his gaze from his two friends he just so blatently accused of indecency.

"A bit?" Finn chuckled. "It's a'ight man, let's just forget about it." Finn's stomach let out a low growl. "So what's for breakfast, homie?"

Jake felt a mite cheerier now that they'd moved on past that terrible misunderstanding. What an awful, horrible revelation to wake up to first thing in the morning. "Canned food, yo. It's all we got since we pollished off the marshmallows last night."

"Sounds good, man." Finn responded with a nod. He looked back to his vampire friend who was still wrapped in his sleeping bag. She was in a sitting position, watching the two brothers, holding the poofy top of the bag up to under her chin with strangely bare arms. "C'mon Marcie, stop being a lazy butt. It's time to get up." The human coaxed.

"Remember that thing you said about how we're both fully clothed?" she asked with a bashful smile. "If we've learned anything this morning, it's that you guys are great at jumping to conclusions." She motioned with her eyes, directing Finn and Jake's attention toward a pile of her discarded flannel shirt and ripped jeans.

"What the flip, Marceline!" Finn cried out, bordering on the hysterical.

"What, I got hot! Besides, it's not like I'm completely naked. Glob Finn, don't be such a perv!" Marceline huffed indignantly, floated up from the ground sleeping bag and all, snatched the shirt and pair of jeans from where they lay and was gone into the dense forest, presumably to get dressed.

"What in the flip just happened, Jake?" Finn asked flatly as he continued to stare dumbfoundedly out into the woods where he last saw the lunatic who wore his sleeping bag like a toga.

"Sounds like you're having girl troubles, bro." Jake answered, gingerly giving the confused human an empathetic pat on the back.

#finnceline #this is like 9 years old #But now there's fanfic in the tag

[depressedacadamia]

The Anatomy of the Sun

Chapter II: One more Hour

A/N: Here’s chapter 2! I think I will be updating this around every 1-2 weeks because the chapters are really long. Anyway, here it the second chap, I hope you like it and please comment!

Word count:  17K

Warnings: Kissing (more like making out), a tad of angst, r!pe mention (the patient is a victm), some mental illness references if you squint.

Chapter I

Tagging: @showtunesandsolangelo

It’s all about lines. 

Jason was feeling good, he could feel it- today was going to be great. He finally managed to correct the cute barista who kept on calling him Jack and he had found the perfect parking space. He was excited- maybe he’d even get into an OR today and take back his 007 status. That was until he was almost hit by a motorcycle. He watched as the rider swerved from side to side until finally, they pulled up, leaning their motorcycle to the side as they pulled off their helmet. He watched as Hazel shook her head back and forth, letting her dark curls bounce about as she stretched her neck. She ran past him, shooting him a respectful nod as she entered the hospital with her motorcycle helmet in her gloved hands. 

The finish line at the end of residency.

Roommates. Nico was officially putting up a poster for roommates. He didn’t know why he didn’t just ask Hazel but at the same time, he did. Asking Hazel was a portal into too much family drama than he could handle. Having to attend family dinners with his family was bad enough, he didn’t want to start arguing with Hazel. Besides, he just wanted 2 complete strangers that he didn't have to interact with. He pressed his thumb into the pin, securing the poster.  

Waiting in line for a chance at the operating table.

And then, there’s the most important line. The line separating you from the people you work with.

Juniper was waiting to get the lift, her bag swinging in her hands. She had made a bad impression on everyone so far- maybe it was because she was a model. She couldn’t lie, people had lacked respect when talking to her in particular and she had a feeling that it had something to do with her ex- career.  Finally, the lift pinged and its doors opened, only for it to be full of people. She could tell they were all staring at her, not because she looked spectacularly bad that day (she had not slept properly in a month) but because they clearly all knew of her previous occupation. Juniper mumbled something about taking the stairs and decided to keep her head up high.

At least she wasn't under tons of crushing debt. 

  Hour 1

Nico slipped off his boots, trading them for some worn out trainers that were much more safe. The boots were old but he hadn’t worn them often due to their uncomfortable nature but for once, he had decided to wear them. Did he know why he chose them? No, he had just decided to slip them on.

“I would ask how last night went, but I think I know and I really don’t want to hear details,” Hazel said as she walked past Nico to gain access to her locker, referring to the bruise at the base of his collarbone.

“You’re just jealous that you haven’t scored an attending yet. I’ll bet you I’m in trauma today,” Nico bragged as he pushed his boots into the already overcrowded locker. Hazel rolled her eyes at her brother's typical behaviour.

“You know that he might think you guys are dating?” Hazel added, slipping on her white coat. Nico snorted as he pulled on his scrub shirt over his long sleeved t-shirt. 

“I’ve made it very clear to him that we are  not  dating,” Nico scoffed, “ Now all I have to do is wait for the chase.”

“The chase?”

“The chase, you know? The whole trying to pursue this person you like. It gets to a point where I will have all the power and he will do anything I want,” Nico explained. Hazel raised an eyebrow at his boastful tactics but decided to make no further comment. She did however want to make a comment about the roommates poster he had put up. 

  “What's up with the roommates poster by the way? Since when did you want people living with you?” Hazel asked, slamming her locker shut, just as Nico closed his. Her hair was frantic, similar to her brothers who's olive skin was particularly glowly today- she did not want to know what from.

“The place seems empty and I need other people paying rent to afford it,” Nico complained. Now it was Hazel’s turn to snort. It wasn’t quite as big a knowledge that the Di Angelo’s were also extremely wealthy than it was knowledge to know of their surgical legacy- Well Bianca’s surgical legacy. Hazel, who was not in the mood to have a confrontation with her brother, simply nodded and left.

 “Please! I’d be the perfect candidate! I’m super quiet and I won’t make a mess!” The intern opposite Nico begged as she told him all the things which supposedly made her a good roommate. Nico disagreed. There many reasons that he did not want her living with him but it came down to one which was she was much too young.

“No,” he concluded unsympathetically. He was about to get up and leave when he heard another plead from the intern. 

“But why?”

“Where were you when the challenger exploded?” He turned around, slightly annoyed but nonetheless, still intimidating as usual.

“What?” 

“The space shuttle, Challenger- where were you when it exploded?” he challenged.

“Uh, I think I was in kindergarten,” she looked up, trying to remember.  

Nico huffed out, “Exactly.”

 “Percy! We’re going to be late! We aren't going to be late, we’re  already  late!” Annabeth shouted as she stood by the door in her scrubs, her bag in hand. Percy, with his bed hair, rushed out of the kitchen in his scrubs, grabbing his jacket from the sofa before heading towards Annabeth and placing a soft kiss on her cheek in hopes of lightening up her mood. 

“Come on Wise girl, we gotta go,” he grinned cheekily as he grabbed her by the hand opening the door of their house. Annabeth, unable to stay mad for so long, sighed before giving in and heading to the car.

“We are never having morning sex again if it means we’re going to be late,” Annabeth warned. Percy, feigning mock offence, held a hand to his heart and gasped. 

“Your words wound me!” 

Annabeth slapped his shoulder as she started the car towards the hospital. Percy stopped mucking about and placed another chaste kiss on her cheek to make sure all was well.

Juniper and Jason were both complaining. Nico didn’t think he could handle one of them complaining, let alone trying to deal with both of them- that was a challenge. They were all leaning by the stairs right next to the nurses station which were next to the elevators. 

“But Nicoo, why would you put up a poster for roommates if you don’t want roommates? I swear, I’m a great chef and I clean obsessively!” Juniper argued, slumping her arm slightly on Jason. 

“I do want roommates but we’re working together 100 hours a week, you want to live together too?” he shot back. He held 4 mocha latte’s in one of those 4 cup holders you get at a coffee shop. Without asking, Juniper snatched two, shocking Nico. 

“That’s for not letting us be your roommates,” Juniper pouted as she handed one to Jason who nervously accepted. Jason leaned forward, trying to convince Nico,

“Please, I have to live with my sister and she blasts her music so much. I’m pretty sure my eardrums have popped,”Jason begged. Hazel, in this exact moment, joined them, giving Jason a sympathetic look before noticing the coffee in Nico’s hand. She casually took one from Nico, not caring about his reaction- she had taken his food before on several occasions (although the Happy meal incident did not go over well). 

“Why aren’t you taking one?” Hazel nodded her head towards the last coffee in his grasp as she sipped hers- she frowned. Nico never ordered mocha latte. She had expected to be tasting coffee with way too much creamer or a hot chocolate but instead it was the distinctly strong taste of coffee. 

“It’s not mine,” Nico hummed as his eyes searched towards the elevator, waiting for it to open. Hazel knew that Dr Solace was already here so what was Nico so invested for? It can’t have been Percy but perhaps the resident who would come with him

“Oh, you’re bringing bribes now?” Hazel pointed towards the coffee, thinking of Dr Chase.

“It’s not a bribe,” Nico defended, looking away sharply as he listened to Jason and Juniper continue to slander his name due to his lack of compassion with them living with him.

“Look, I just want to live with two total strangers that I won’t have to talk to or be nice to!” he confessed, throwing his free hand about in exaggeration. Unexpectedly, Dr Chase made her way down the main stairs (which surprised everyone as they expected her to be downstairs not upstairs).  She quickly assigned them all tasks.

“Jason, you’re running the code team* today. Nico, take the trauma pager.  Hazel, deliver the weekend labs to the patients and Juni- you’re on sutures,” She announced before heading back up the stairs, only to be stopped by Nico.  

“Dr Chase, I was hoping I would be able to assist in the OR today, maybe even perform a minor procedure. I think I’m ready.” He thrusted the mocha latte into her direction, “ Mocha Latte?” 

Dr Chase accepted the drink slowly before taking a small sip. It slightly burnt the tip of her tongue but she appreciated the gesture- however, unfortunately for Di Angelo, this did not mean that Dr Chase had accepted his request for surgery. 

“Wait, if he gets to cut, then I wanna cut too!” Hazel insisted.  

“So do I!” Juniper squished in between the interns. Jason, off to the side mumbled something about how it would be nice to get a second shot. However, this simply irked Dr Chase even more. She held her hand up signalling silence- at least the interns got this sign right.

“Stop talking,” she started, “Every intern wants to perform their first surgery. That’s not  your  job. Do you know what your job is? To make your resident happy. Do I look happy? No. Why? Because my interns are whiny. You know what will make me look happy? Having the code team staffed, Having the trauma pages answered, having the weekend labs delivered and having someone down in the Pit doing sutures. No one holds a scalpel until I’m so happy, I’m Mary freakin Poppins!” 

The interns, as clueless as ever, all stood staring at her with hopeful eyes as if they were baby birds expecting Annabeth to just feed them. She climbed a few steps before turning around and calling out,

“Why are y'all standing there, move!”

Quickly, all the interns scattered to their assigned jobs. 

  Hour 2

Will was waiting for an elevator as he noticed a short mop of black messy hair pick up a few files off the floor and clumsily place them on top of the overwhelming pile they already had in their small arms. Nico going to an elevator. Trying to not turn around and offer his help, Will kept to himself, smiling slightly at the small grunts the doctor beside him made. Nico finally managed to take a few more steps into Dr Solace’s eyeline, so he was standing next to him instead of behind. He tapped his foot as he decided to further his plan along.

“New york has ferry boats. There are also ferry boats where I come from. I didn’t know there were ferry boats here,” Nico mused. Will, slightly amused by Nico’s lack of geographical knowledge, retorted.

“New York is surrounded by water.”        

“Hence the Ferry boats,”  Nico concluded before admitting, “Now I have to like it here ya know. I wasn’t planning on liking it. I’m from Italy- genetically engineered to dislike everywhere- except Paris.” 

“I have a thing for Ferry Boats,” Will decided to add, smirking slightly as they entered the empty elevator. Nico being the stubborn person he was, attempted to press one of the buttons with his elbow and Will had to practically force the floor level out of Nico. It involved a lot of bickering back and forth until they finally agreed and the elevator doors closed.

Out of nowhere, Nico quickly said, “I’m not going out with you.”

Will, already wounded that his attemp- could he even say attempts? Nico had cut him off before he had even gotten a chance to say anything but he was determined to get to Nico.

“Did I ask you to go out with me?” He turned around, smiling slightly so he only showed some of his sparkling teeth, “Will you go out with me?”

“I ain’t dating you and we aren’t sleeping together again. You’re my boss,” Nico decided to cut to the chase.  

“I’m your boss's boss.”

“You're my teacher, and my teacher’s teacher,” Nico pretended to resist only resulting in Will mocking him.

“I’m your sister, I'm your daughter.”

“You’re sexually harassing me.”     

“I'm riding an elevator,” Will protested. Nico glanced at the back of Will’s head and thought

  His hair looked particularly neat today- it would be   such  a shame if it got messed up.

“I’m drawing a line. The line is drawn. There’s a big line. Don’t cross the line,” Nico breathed heavily, as if he was holding his breath. Will, still hellbent on teasing the cute intern, turned around, with his arms crossed and his hair as perfect as ever.

“So this line, is it imaginary or do I have to get you a marker?” he smirked, his voice low and teasing- Nico could tell. His crystal blue eyes were going all hazy and his baby pink lips were slightly tilted to the side as if they were just mocking Nicp by being there. They looked soft, no they  were soft- Nico knew that from experience. He could see a small mole on the side of his neck as well as a purplish bruise that he may or may have not left there.

Overcome by his lack of impulse control, Nico flung himself onto Will, dropping all the files in his arms and mashed his lips on his- a gesture that was returned just as harshly by Will. The files flew across the elevator floor as Nico’s hands came up to desperately weave themselves into Will’s hair. They fought for dominance in the kiss slamming each other into the elevator- it was hot, needy and  totally  inappropriate. But it seemed that neither of them cared. Their lips just couldn’t get enough of each other. It was like a fire was getting ignited, a fire that couldn’t be put out. It was in both of them, absolutely raging, uncontrollable. Will was tempted to tell Nico,  mind the hair  but just then Nico slightly bit at Will's bottom lip, pulling it backwards gently and sucked ever so slightly, before returning to the kiss that had Will plastered against the elevator wall.

So you want to play dirty Di Angelo?

Nico was not going to give Will the chance though. Absolutely consumed by the kiss, he slightly pulled at Will’s hair evicting a small, but low, growl out of Will’s throat. Nico wasn’t sure if he heard that correctly but just as he was about to test it again, he heard the ping of the elevator. The fire within was smaller but it hadn’t died.  Nico quickly pulled away and started scrambling towards the floor, trying to grab at the files as the elevator door slowly pulled itself open. Will, still a tad shocked, also helped, trying to organise the files into the right cases before handing them over to Nico. They stepped out of the elevator in sync, just like their pagers. Since Nico was also in trauma, he figured that whatever Dr Solace was getting paged for, he was also meant to be helping. 

“I’ll join after I finish with these files,” Nico called out, as Dr Solace nodded and hurried off. Nico smiled to himself as he noticed that Dr Solace’s hair was sticking up in several different directions.

 As Nico made his way into the Pit, he noticed a large crowd of doctors all looking slightly concerned- he hoped it was not for his patient- the more gruesome the injury, the more surgery required. However, the second he was told that it was a rape victim, he understood the facial expresions- they were disgusted at the crime, not the injuries attained. 

“Dr Solace has gone to prep for surgery along with Dr Jackson,” a nurse informed him as he entered the room. 

“Okay, we’ve got a 25 year old female, found down at the park, status post- trauma. She came in with a GCS* of 6. BP* is 80 over 60. Exam is significant for blunt head trauma, as well as unequal breath sounds, her right pupil is dilated and she’s ready for X-ray,” the nurse recited as Nico entered the room. He scanned his eyes across the room before his eyes landed on something familiar. 

Were those his boots?

No, they were obviously not Nico’s boots, but they were the same boots. He wanted to shudder, knowing a potential rape victim was wearing the same shoes as him the day she got attacked. It was weird right? It felt weird, it was like there was some weird unknown connection and that in a way, these 2 people were very much connected- as if they were the same people who were living parallel versions of each other's lives. During Nico’s quick zone- out session, a nurse continued to try to call his attention- something he only noticed when they snapped  Dr Di Angelo!

He quickly nodded as he grabbed his flashlight from his pocket and pulled her eyelids open, looking for a reaction from her pupils. 

“Call ahead to clear a CT, let them know I’m coming,” Nico commanded, “Load up the portable monitor and call respiratory for a ventilator*. I will get X-rays while I’m down there.”

As he helped wheel the patient out of the trauma room, he glanced back at the boots identical to his. There was a blood splatter at the front of it, the laces where messily undone and the heel was the same height. He wasn't acting paranoid right?  He couldn’t help but think that this was a weird coincidence.

Nico was slightly surprised to see Dr Zhang scrubbed in on the surgery with them rather than Dr Mclean- after all he was the head of Cardio and she was the head of General surgery- but even then, why any other attendings other than Percy and Dr Solace were required, Nico truly did not know. 

“What is she? 5’2, 180 pounds? And she took a beating like this,” Will mumbled.

“They should castrate the guy,” Percy announced from the other side of the table, trying to stop the swelling of her brain

“Look how shredded her hands are, she tried to fight back,” Will pointed out. 

“Tried to? The rape test came back negative, she kicked his ass!” Percy told them. Nico was invested to see how Dr Solace was repairing her hands while the 2 attendings talked about the bravery of the patient. 

“So we have a warrior among us, huh?” Dr Zhang joined in. Nico couldn’t help but feel a tinge of annoyance.  She had a name. She was a person. He didn’t know why he felt so strongly about a patient all of a sudden but he had a faint feeling that it had something to do with those boots. 

“Allison… that's her name…. Allison,” Nico cut in the conversation. All the attendings stopped to look at him. Percy, being as supportive as ever, smiled and nodded before returning to fixing her skull. Will looked at Nico, his eyes calm, like the ocean at rest. To an extent, it reminded Nico of Percy’s eyes- something that could always calm Nico down. He watched as Will’s lips slowly parted as he murmured Allison's name under his breath. Dr Zhang took a pair of clamps from the nurse before slowly pulling his arm back.

“I think I’ve found the cause of our rupture….more suction.”  As he drew his arm back, the surgical interns and residents crowded by his arm to have a look at the cause of the rupture. However, once the foreign object was removed, the surgeons became more and more confused- what exactly was this, a tumor? A mass? 

“What is this?” Dr Zhang turned towards the doctors. They all scooted closer to get a closer look. Nico took a glance for a couple of seconds before opening his eyes wide in horror as he realised what exactly he was looking at. He was in a state of horror and curiosity.

“Oh my god… she bit it off,” Nico started hesitantly. Dr Zhang, Dr Solace and Dr Jackson all looked to him, stopping their individual procedures, waiting for Nico to continue speaking. 

“Well, come on- spit it out!” Percy told Nico. Utterly conflicted, Nico decided to just spit it out- just as Percy had told him to. 

“That's a..that's a…. um that’s a penis.”

Almost on instinct, Dr Zhang called for a kidney bowl and practically flung the castrated appendage away from himself. Will couldn’t tell if he should laugh or be alarmed at how Nico was the only person able to identify the penis.

 Hour 5

The water ran over the surgeons hands as they scrubbed between all the crevices in their hands with soap. In between fingers, around thumbs and nail brushes scrubbed at fingertips. Dr Zhang and Dr Solace both stood side by side as they washed their hands practically in sync- just like their miraculous surgical skills.

“I can’t believe she made it through that surgery,” Will began as he switched off the tap by nudging it slightly with his elbow.

“She has a long road to recovery. Fighting off infection, physiotherapy and not to mention therapy itself,” Frank, in his honest nature, responded. He copied Will, turning off the running water with his elbow as he reached for some paper towels to dry off his hands.

“And she needs to wake up in the next 72 hours if she wants a chance at fighting. She’s a fighter, I believe she can make it.”

“Speaking of making it to places, we should get a drink later and you can tell me the long story of what makes a hot shot doctor leave a big apple for New York,” Frank offered as he threw his paper towel into the bin. 

Will shrugged slightly, “It’s a short story really- your Chief of surgery made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“Chiron asked you to come?” Frank asked, genuinely shocked. 

 “Yeah, why?” Will turned around looking at Dr Zhang. He watched as Frank’s expressions twisted before he shook his head, gave a small smile and mumbled never mind. 

“Do you know what the Code Team does? They save lives- yeah, I know. I shock a heart and another patient gets to live to see another day, pretty cool huh?” Jason slightly bragged, trying to make conversation with Hazel - who he knew was overly competitive. He was leaning over the shoulder of Hazel who leaned over the desk at the nurses station, organizing the patient files and lab results.

“Bambi, don’t say another word until after the hunter shoots your mother,” Hazel’s voice drawled with boredom. Jason practically speechless only managed out a meek,

“I don’t like you.”

Hazel sharply turned around, “You know, I have a BA* from Smith, a PHD* from Berkeley and an MD* from Stanford and I'm delivering lab results. It's gonna take me ages to get through these-”

“-Well then you better get a move on with it,” Dr Chase walked past, surprising the doctor. Hazel slightly intimidated, tried to protest that she wasn’t complaining but it seemed that Dr Chase didn’t really care. A doctor behind her with thick curly hair and a smug expression stood, trying to keep his expression neutral. 

“This is Dr Underwood. Lucky Valdez got to get rid of him so now he’s got Mccaffrey and I’ve got Underwood on my service. Levesque, have him shadow you and show him how we run things on my service,” Dr chase commanded before walking off, slightly sashaying. 

“Hey, I’m Grover Underwood, nice to meet you.” He held his hand out to Hazel who looked at it and recoiled slightly before looking at it in disgust. Jason was still trying to figure out if he liked this guy, he seemed quite polite so far but he truly wondered what Underwood did to get kicked off Valdez’s service- he had heard that Valdez was a pretty chill resident, getting kicked off his service would seem pretty hard.

“You’re the pig who called Nico a nurse.. Yeah, I hate you on principal,” Hazel admitted looking him up and down. 

He did what?  Jason thought as he eavesdropped on the conversation beside him.

“And you’re the pushy, overbearing kiss ass… I hate you too,” Grover grunted.

Okay, I defo don’t like this guy, Jason decided.

“Should be fun then,” Hazel sarcastically smiled as they both set off just as Jason's pager  beeped signalling another Code Blue.

 Jason ran around the corner, nurses following him as he found the patient's room. Immediately, he introduced himself. He had become more and more familiar with this procedure and while it had taught him that Hades was enjoying his job a bit too much, he was also hopeful for the patient in every room he had to run to. 

“I’m Dr Grace and I’ll be running this code. What do we have?”  

“57 year old male with an asystole pulse*,” A nurse from beside the bed answered. Jason ordered the defibrillators to be used as he had another person put on compressions, another on the ambu bag and someone administering drugs.

“Charging to 200, clear!”

 The Pit was quite full as Dr June walked in, searching for her next patient. She picked up a chart from the nurses station that was positioned next to the emergency entrance and flipped the page to see the name.  Mrs Lu, Bed 3

“Hi Mrs Lu, I'm Doctor June. I'm gonna sew up your wound, you’re going to need around 6 stitches.” Juniper turned around to start setting up the equipment from the tray only to hear a frantic cry of words coming from behind her. She only recognised the chinese word for  hurt  but even then, she could not decipher what Mrs Lu was saying. She sighed, wondering how long it would be until she could get a hold of a translator. She was tempted to ask Dr Zhang but she knew it was selfish and plain old rude of her to assume that Dr Zhang would be able to help her. She decided to wait for a translator. 

 Nico and the penis in a box. Yes, you read that correctly. Nico was holding the penis in a box or how he would like to put it, the  forgein object in a cooler. They were making their way towards the office of the Chief Of Surgery. He slightly remembered the walk up to the room, the carpet and walls seeming familiar, like a second home. As he walked into the office, he was surprised to find Secretary Hedge there instead of Chief Chiron. He rapped his knuckles on the door gently, grasping the attention of the man sitting in the chair. 

“Hey, I was told to leave this with the Chief.” He raised his arm with the cooler in his hand. 

“Is that it?” A seriously over eager Secretary Hedge asked. Nico slowly nodded, trying to not fuel the secretaires curiosity. In a complete turn of events, Hedge asked,

“Can I see it?” Hedge watched as Nico struggled to keep his facial muscles under control- laugh or cringe, Nico did not know. Just as Hedge muttered a small, forget I asked, Chiron walked in with his white jacket and a large smile on recognising Nico. 

“Nico! It’s good to see you!”

At this, Nico smiled. He had known Chiron for very long but the mass majority of the time that he had seen him, the attention was entirely focused on the potential for his sister- not much for him. He felt a bit guilty that he was enjoying the shine of her mentor while she was struggling but he finally felt noticed. 

“How’s Bianca? I heard she was leaving the Mayo Clinic. Is she going back to the UN?” Chrion asked almost immediately. Nico could feel all the happiness and life in him slowly drain.So nothing had actually changed. He was still in his sister's shadow despite the fact that she wasn’t even here. Gods, she wasn’t even in this time period! Bianca was in a nursing home thinking she was reliving her surgery days and here was Nico somehow still under her shadow. If Bianca’s mentor wasn’t willing to see Nico’s potential as a surgeon- how many other Doctors thought that he was only here due to his Di Angelo status? Percy? Dr Chase? Did Doctor Solace think that? 

Why does it concern me the most if Dr Solace doesn’t see past my status?

Nico decided that it must be because Dr solace was the head of his favourite department- Trauma. 

“Uh, no. She’s taking time off-”

“-To write another book I suppose?” Chiron cut in, smiling as he picked up some papers off his desk and moved them underneath a folder. Nico simply attempted a smile in return, a gesture that did not alarm Chiron- he had known Nico Pre-Bianca and her alzehmiers. That Nico had been a very smiley person. Nico, who could have sworn his facial muscles were deteriorating as he smiled, decided to move the conversation to the matter at hand- the penis in a bo-

- The foreign object in a cooler .

“Well, I’ve got it,” Nico said half heartedly, lifting the cooler in his hand up slightly. Chiron turned to his secretary, conversing a few words with him, as if Nico had never entered the room.

“Uh, Hedge, how long did the cops say they’d be?”

“You know how slow they always are so he better take it with him-”

“-Take it with me? You want me to take a penis around the hospital with me?” Nico cut off Hedge, with growing anxiety- he did not want to have to babysit a penis. Gosh, being on Solace’s service was meant to result in fun, not this!

“It's the chain of custody rules. All medical matter in a rape must stay with the person who collected it until its placed into police custody,” Chiron ,who was secretlty relived to not have to keep the penis, recited. 

“So I have custody over a penis,” Nico deadpanned. Sheepishly, the secretary nodded trying to not laugh at the poor kids' situation. 

“Until the cops come from it, of course,” Chiron reminded Nico, as if knowing that the police would take their sweet time was any more re- assuring.

“And what am I meant to do with a penis?” Nico frantically asked, his cool persona falling and being slowly replaced by one of panic and desperation. Chiron and Hedge simply gave obscure looks at Nico’s question before looking back down at the papers in their hands.

 Hour 10

Hazel sighed. She had been sighing all day. Every patient either had a benign tumour* or a condition of no interest to her. When was someone going to be seriously ill? They were surgeons for god's sake, not lab running rats! Both Hazel and Grover made their way to the next patients room, seriously disappointed. On entering the room, they both saw the family crowded round the patients bed, holding their hands together like there was a prayer commencing. 

“You have a disorder called multinucleate cell angiohistiocytoma. It's not a cancer or a sarcoma, it's very rare but minor. You will be discharged today,” Hazel, slightly bored, attempted a smile. The family, still taking in the good news, were catatonic for around 5 seconds before all hell broke loose. There was crying, cheering, claps and laughs. Grover and Hazel both looked at each other with the same expression-  Get me out of here .

“Wait wait, does this mean I don’t need surgery?” The patient ,still propped up by his elbows in his bed, inquired. Hazel simply nodded before getting pulled into a bear hug, against her will may I add, and practically almost suffocated to death. Her eyes widened as she stared into Grovers soul trying to get him to help her. Unfortunately for Hazel, Underwood was much more invested in watching her uncomfortable encounters.

Jason was sitting in a chair, letting it spin it around and round. The nurses station was quite empty with only the occasional nurse in and out. He stopped his spinning to bury his head in a very interesting chart that consisted of a case to do with a-

-  Clink!

Nico set down the cooler on the desk with a loud sound that jolted Jasons’s head out of his head before letting his eyes land on the cooler. Jason, curious and wanting to engage in conversation with Nico began questioning the contents of the cooler. Nico who really did not want to tell Jason attempted to warn him

“Ooh, what’s in the cooler?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“No.” Jason got up from his seat and came to stand next to Nico, “ No, I do wanna know.”

Nico, who really wasn’t about to greatly resist, decided to tell Jason. Afterall, if it ruined Jason’s day as well, it would mean he wouldn't be the only miserable person moping about in the hospital. 

“It’s a severed penis.” Nico shrugged quite nonchalantly as he gained amusement from the horrified expression slowly growing on Jason’s face. He watched as Jason's expressions contorted between fascination and disgust, trying to figure out which emotion to settle on. He wanted to prove Nico wrong but at the same time didn’t want Nico to not like him.

“I don’t think I wanted to know that.” Jason looked back down at his book, with a meek expression and his head slightly bowed as if he was praying. As Jason entered a world of truly unnecessary overthinking, Grover and Hazel came in arguing, what about, Jason did not know and in all honesty, after what Nico had told him- he did not want to know. Deciding he wanted to shift his discomfort to someone else, he looked to Hazel.

“Do you know Di Angelo is babysitting a penis in a jar?” he pointed towards the cooler sitting on the table top. Hazel, with piqued curiosity, quickly made her way over towards the cooler and opened the lid, taking a quick peek at the bitten off contents before shutting it. 

“It’s a cooler, not a jar,” Nico whined slightly, not really directing his comment towards anyone. 

“Talk about taking a bite out of crime,” Hazel commented as she picked something out of Nico’s hair. Nico didn’t really know whether to thank her or to resist the gesture. It felt weird- right? It was weird that Hazel was filling Bianca’s void. It was weird that Nico first thought about Hazel when people talked about his sister. It was weird that Nico was completely okay with this. He felt it was simply not right but at the same time, he didn’t want it to stop. Was he being unfaithful to Bianca? Was he betraying her? Or would she want him to move on from her, grow closer with his family who were actually lucid.

Jason watched Nico’s facial expressions with intensity- such intensity that had Nico not been stuck in a hole of problems, he a hundred percent would have noticed and even been creeped out by Jason’s intense stare. Despite only knowing Nico for around a month, he cared deeply about him. He wanted to know what was so concerning to him so much that he froze up and his eyes went all glazed like he was on autopilot. Nico was a closed off person who wore all black and covered up his secrets with wicked smiles and sarcastic quips but Jason could see the vulnerable child within Nico. He felt responsible for him and everything that happened to him.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jason asked tenderly, making Nico lift his head- effectively stopping him from daydreaming. For a second, when Nico lifted his head, Jason saw a glitter in Nico’s eyes that reminded him of innocence. Youth, life and calamity- instead of the empty, cold and lifeless onyx eyes that could give even Lucifer nightmares.

“The rape victim I had today, Allison, she had the same shoes as me. And ever since… It just doesn’t sit well with me, ya know? I never wear those boots normally because they’re so uncomfortable And it’s… stupid and I’m tired so nevermind, just leave it.” Nico batted his hand, dismissing the subject. Jason raised his eyebrows at the abrash statement and gesture before attempting Nico’s wicked smile.

“Do you know what you need?” Jason wiggled his eyebrows, letting the secret into the open like a breath of air. Immediately, Nico caught onto what Jason was talking about. He was offended and shocked that Jason had been doing it without him- This was their thing and Jason was doing it behind his back without him? The betrayal was heartbreaking. What next? Solace sleeping with someone else?

“No! It’s sick and twisted and we said last time was the last time,” Nico firmly said. He watched as Jason’s face contorted between guilt and excitement.

“You’ve been doing it without me?” Nico released. Jason shuffled his feet together nefor mumbling a ‘maybe’.

“Do you know what would happen if anyone knew?” Nico huffed out but Jason had made up his mind.

“I’m doing it- you can come with me or you can sit here and be miserable,” Jason confirmed as he dragged Nico by the white collar, which was considerably easy when you realised that Nico was an entire head shorter that Jason- and some would argue even more.

Nico and Jason had their faces pressed up onto the glass staring at the cute babies in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit or as the doctors would simply call it- the NICU. Nico couldn't help the overwhelming smile that made his way onto his face as he stared at the cute babies as they attempted to talk, throwing their limbs about cluelessly. He listened to Jason who urged them with non-existent words and funky sounds that was considered the universal baby language. Nico looked at Jason- his platinum blonde hair and faintly light blue eyes reminded him to an extent of Will but at the same time- there was a clear difference. Will had faint freckles that decorated his face like a cake being decorated by icing sugar- whereas Jason had a pale complexion. Will’s hair was more of a golden blond and reminded of Nico of sunrise on a summer morning- hot, warm and some may even say beautiful and then there was his eyes-

- Why was he reciting this like he memorised it in the shower for fun?

Nico decided to put Wil- no,  Solace  out of his mind. He listened to the absolutely adorable sounds that Jason was making- he reminded him of Bianca when she used to babysit Estelle- Percy’s younger sister. Estelle was absolutely adorable and Nico considered her to be his younger sister as well, considering the amount of time she spent with the Di Angelo’s- especially during Percy’s med school and residency years when he was meant to be babysitting Estelle and had instead handed her to Nico and Bianca. 

“You are such a softie,” Nico said, giggling slightly at Jason who was still cooing at the babies. For a couple of moments afterwards, Jason froze. Was Nico complimenting him? Or was it an insult? What on earth did the word ‘softie’ mean here? Did Nico like sofites? Or was ‘Softie’ Nico’s equivalent of ‘ absolute loser’? However, before Jason was able to come to any sort of conclusion, his pager beeped, signalling another Code Blue that he had to respond to. 

“Ah shit, I’ve got a code to run, I’ll catch you later.” Jason waved before breaking into a jog and leaving. After Nico said his goodbyes to Jason he continued watching the babies for some more time. He was fascinated- how did humanity get from there to here. The babies were pure and new and hadn’t been exposed to the harsh realities of the world- how will they turn to what Nico has become? How did they get from Point A to point B? As Nico pondered over these philosophical thoughts, he carried watching the babies but something caught his eye. He could have sworn that baby he just saw went blue momentarily. It was crying and thrashing about but maybe Nico was only seeing things. He was tired, sleep deprived and if he had to be honest- this wouldn't have been the first time Nico saw things that weren’t actually there.

He watched it again, more intensely. With an analytical fine tooth comb. There- the baby turned blue again! So he wasn’t hallucinating! He rushed into the room, quickly taking out the chart of the baby and scanning his eyes over the info. He was aware that if he was caught, the consequences would not be great. That was probably the understatement of the year. After finishing with the chart, he set it down and took his stethoscope and started listening to the heart of the baby- something there wasn’t right, Nico could feel it. Nico did not often have such strong feelings but he had learnt that when they occurred, they were never wrong. 

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing here?” a doctor with pink scrubs walked in. 

“There were no tests ordered and the baby has a heart murmur-” Nico began, taking the stethoscope out of his ears. 

“-I know and you’re surgery, you are not authorised to be here. Do you know what could happen if you were caught?” The intern pressed on but Nico refused to step down here.

“Are you going to do any tests to confirm?” Nico asked, his tone clearly one of concern.

“It’s a benign systolic ejection murmur*. It will go away with age.”

“So you aren’t doing any tests.” Nico realised that he couldn’t win this in any way- well for now. He started to make his way towards the door before the intern decided to slam another attempt at a guilt tripping insult at him but in reality just made Nico doubt their abilities. He seriously felt bad for the Valdez resident if these were the meatheads he had to teach.

 Hour 15

Frank felt betrayed. He had to say, he was never truly familiar with such a feeling. He had experienced the odd chance of it but in reality Frank was used to succeeding- in fact he had dedicated all his life to it. Many people saw him as soft, simple and easy to beat opponent but in reality that was one of his greatest strengths- people underestimated him until they met him. To an extent this had made Frank slightly arrogant- but he wouldn’t say it wasn’t necessary. The truth is, every surgeon has to be arrogant to believe that they can cut open another human and somehow fix them as if they were a god like deity but right now, Frank wasn’t thinking that he was arrogant, no. He was thinking that Chiron was being arrogant- believing that he was all so big and mighty and could just throw Frank about with his lies and schemes. 

“Oh Chiron! So you asked Solace to come here?” Frank confronted, his hands resting on his hips. 

“Yeah, Solace was an old student of mine...” Chiron trailed off, unaware of the purpose of the conversation.

“Oh so he left a private practise in Austin, Texas just because  you asked?”

“Yes.”

“No other reason? Just a favour for an old professor,” Frank said with a hint of sarcasm lingering behind the words.

“It will be years before I retire,” Chiron began to reassure, understanding the nature of the conversation of the root of Frank's passive aggressive attitude.

“ Chief of surgery is mine, you told me so,” Frank reminded him.

“It was yours, now I'm not so sure.”

“I am the best surgeon here! I have the lowest mortality rate, you can’t just bring someone-”

“-Ask me why. Ask me why I'm not so sure of you," Chiron repeated, trying to get Frank to understand his motives. Chiron liked Frank, they had done a lot for each other. In fact, it had been Chrion who had helped Frank get over his low self- esteem, something that had bothered Frank for almost his entire life. 

Frank, feeling defeated, almost stormed off. He knew he shouldn’t feel guilty but he couldn’t help letting a bit of it creep in as he remembered how somehow, he led Chiron, his mentor, to believe that his low self-esteem no longer existed. Maybe it was Chiron’s great desire to no longer see Frank suffer that made him see past it but Frank knew better. He wasn’t mad because the job may not be his, no- he had only wanted the job due to the benefits that came with it. Frank was mad because Chirom bringing in another ex-mentee of his simply brought his low self-esteem back all over again.

 It was like med- school except this time, there were actual lives at stake. Did Chiron truly feel that he wasn’t good enough- that Solace would be a better Chief of Surgery better than Frank? He didn’t want to admit it, but Frank knew that he had become somewhat arrogant in an attempt to lie to himself and hide the lack of self esteem. The arrogance had only started when he was in residency but over the years, as he saved more lives, it accumulated. Yet, somehow, Frank still did not think it was good enough. Clearly Solace was. Why else would Chiron bring another threat to Frank’s anxiety if Chiron didn’t believe Frank's anxiety had gone? Surely Chiron wouldn’t do this knowing how badly it would hurt Frank.

Would he? 

 Hazel was bored. She knew it, Grover knew it and so did every nurse in a 1 metre radius of the stretcher that she sat in with the charts of her patients in a stack in front of her. This was New York Presbytarian! They were meant to have the best surgical residency in the country and here she was delivering lab results to over joyous patients- none of which had any sort of interesting condition. You’d think that someone in a hospital would be close to dying but no, it seemed that all of her patients were in ‘tip top’ condition. 

“People need to get sick because I refuse to spend my residency doing this,” Hazel complained as she flipped the pages of the chart. 

“Exactly. How can we be in the OR if people are just gonna live?” Grover agreed. They continued complaining, depressed about their current state. Hazel wanted to get this done and over with. The quicker she finished the job, the quicker she could get into a surgery. She took the 20 case files and separated them into 2 piles, each with 10 files. 

“Here.” She handed one pile to Grover as she got up, “ You take 10, I take 10. We go in, we go out- no hugging, no laughing, no crying. Don’t be slow,” she instructed.

“Slow? If anything you’re the slow one,” Grover retorted as they made their way to the hallway. 

“You wanna bet?” Hazel challenged, stopping a second to look at Grover. He mumbled a ‘You’re on’ before they both ran off, trying to finish first. 

“You literally aren't letting anyone live with you!” The psychology resident complained. Nico turned on them. 

“Favorite 80’s band?” 

“That has nothing to do with this!”

“I’m still waiting.” he tapped his foot impatiently. 

“I don’t know, the Bangles?” They shrugged cluelessly while Nico scoffed. 

“Yeah, absolutely not.” Nico began walking away- he had to babysit a penis after all.

“Is there even a right answer?”  

“AC/DC, The rolling stones, Guns N’ Roses,” Nico called out, not looking back, as he walked away.

“You will be free to leav- OOF!” Grover was cut off by an enormous bear hug from almost the entire family. He wanted to push them all away from him- after all, 3 families had hugged him so far and he had only visited 4 of the 10  patients he had. If he continued at this rate, Hazel was for sure to win. 

“You have a cyst on your lymph node- but tests have confirmed that it was not cancerous which means you probably have some sort of infection- we will put you on broad range antibiotics before discharge tomorrow,” Hazel recited as she dodged a hug aiming for her resulting in 2 family members in an embrace. She quickly slipped out of the room without notice and smiling to herself- 5 down, 5 to go. 

“Clear!” Jason called again, it had been 26 minutes into a code without any reaction to CPR, drugs or shocking. Jason knew what was coming next. He could feel it, like it was hanging over his shoulder waiting for his patients to walk into their arms. Death hung at the shoulder of every doctor as their guardian angel- something he remembered Nico saying. When he had said it, he didn't remember.  He put his arm out, signalling the nurse to stop CPR. He took a shaky breath.

“Time of death, 15:45.”

 Hour 20

Nico watched as the heart monitor stayed stable, reaching the apex before dropping and repeating. Allison. Attempted rape. Boots. Those were the words just floating around his head. Here she was on a vent, alone, like a vegetable and only hours ago she had been alive- smiling, talking,  fighting. 

“I've called every hospital in the country. Sooner or later the guy who did this is gonna seek medical attention and when he does, that penis you’re carrying around is gonna nail him,” a voice coming from behind Nico said. He turned his head slightly to see the golden curls that he had messed up this morning. Nico’s eyes were cast back onto the lonely woman. How could anyone so vulnerable be so alone?

“Where's her family?” The words slipped out of Nico’s mouth before he could stop them. Will shook his head slightly, his hair bouncing slightly from the impact. 

“Doesn't have one.”

“No siblings?” Nico asked, thinking of Hazel and Bianca.

“Nope, both parents are dead. She moved to New York 3 weeks ago. Welcome to the city,”   Will took a bite out of an apple miserably. Nico too was miserable- they both had good reason to do so. What kind of world did they live in where the system was so disadvantaged to anyone who wasn’t white, male, heterosexual and neurotypical? What kind of system forced minorities to work in society's most unwanted but vital jobs? What kind of system forced women to be terrified of walking home alone- day or night? 

“Nico? Are you okay?” Will’s soft and concerned voice broke into Nicos thoughts. The question left him speechless- was he okay? The cynical, sarcastic and natural answer was No- obviously no. But for some reason, Nico did not want to say no, but rather leave his own pain to himself- not burden anyone else with it. 

“Yeah.. I just gotta do something.” With that, Nico ran off looking for Dr Zhang.

 Nico found Dr Zhang climbing the stairs. The hospital had a comfortable endless buzz, something that all the staff were used to- Frank was hoping to get a calm and perhaps even silent moment to himself. Instead, he got an intern. 

“Dr Zhang, there’s this patient. It’s a baby in peds and they had a tetralogy spell with a heart murmur,” Nico started, his legs struggling to keep up.

“Did Ped’s ask for a consult?”

Nico stayed silent, partially because he didn’t want to feel guilty for lying and partially because he did not have a lie on him- not one that he could pull off at least.

“Di Angelo, you’re a bright kid but we can’t just walk in there without a Peds consult. It’s not like I’m the Chief of Surgery,” Frank said sympathetically as he walked off.

 “Hehehee, you’reee hott,” the drunk slurred as they leaned slightly forward in a terrible attempt to flirt with Juniper. Juniper still stood in the Pit, it’s fluorescent lights giving her a headache- along with the noise levels and annoying patients. Slightly disgusted by the stench of alcohol on their breath, she pushed them back gently, making sure they didn’t flop onto the stretcher. 

“You’re drunk,” she deadpanned as she prepared the sutures, “And you also need to hold still.”  

Juniper was sick of the Pit, she was sick of the flourecsant lights that made her skin look like puke and most of all, she was sick of her patients; drunk and disorderly were the mass majority and since the morning, not one major casualty had come through those doors other than the rape case Nico had been assinged to. 

“I know you! You’re that lady from the magazine with the red bikini..” they trailed off, their voice in a musing and questioning tone. Juniper had to physically stop herself from scoffing- It was a pink bikini. She didn’t hate her fans but sometimes people made it weird, especially drunk ones who enjoyed invading her personal space a tad too much. 

“It was a pink bikini.”

 The seats by the hospital doors were the perfect place (other than the vending machines) to hide from your residents- so naturally, Nico and Hazel were there, camping away during lunch. The penis in a box sat in the chair next to him as he nibbled at the rainbow sour gummy strips.

“Watcha doing?” Hazel asked as she made her way towards him. 

“I’m sitting with my penis.”

“Which one?”

In response to this, Nico scrunched up his face in a sarcastic, sardonic smile that read  No <3. 

“I kissed McDreamy...in an elevator. I was having a bad day,” Nico started with his voice relatively quiet. 

“So what do you do on your bad days, make out with McDreamy?”

“Yeah that and carrying around a severed penis just makes everything so shiny and happy,” He retorted in response to his sister. 

“Jason said Allison was wearing your boots.”

“…. It's weird right? “

“It’s weird that you care so much. They’re boots and popular ones too- anyone could have them,” Hazel argued. Nico opened his mouth to respond but in that moment a bunch of frantic shouting cut them off. Behind them, right outside the hospital a man had pulled up. His skin was sickly pale, there was blood all over his legs and groin and he was struggling to move. 

Nico looked at his facial features and did not expect for the man to look… well normal. For some reason, he had envisioned the man to look evil- to resemble hate itself but he just looked normal. That's when it hit Nico- rapists don’t look like rapists. They look like average people because that's what their best advantage is- the trusting nature of humanity. They don’t look evil because they need to fit in, to gain the trust of others and protect their reputation. They look normal because anybody could be a rapist- they don’t wear posters pointing it out and it’s not written on their foreheads. That's what they do best- hide. 

Nico and the transport staff rushed the man in the gurney towards the operating room, their legs moving as fast as possible. The police were going to arrive soon but for now, he would have to be handcuffed to his bed. The rapist was found, Allison was alive, now what? There was no way they’d be able to re attach the penis and honestly, Nico did not want to- in his eyes, the rapist got exactly what he deserved

“Call reception and tell them we need security up here ASAP,” Nico ordered, finally taking charge. As the gurney was charged into the surgical department, Dr Chase caught on. 

“What dya have Di Angelo?” 

“Take a look for yourself.” He nodded towards the middle of the man's body, more specifically his groin. Annabeth quickly lifted up the drapes before letting them drop- here eyes widened and she looked at Nico with disbelief painted across her face. 

“Page the Chief and Solace and tell them we’ve got the rapist,” she commanded as she took Nico’s position on the gurney and continued wheeling him to an OR.

The heart monitor was beeping steadily. The heart was moving- beating. Nico and Hazel, stood side by side watching Dr Chase performing surgery- unfortunately, they weren't assisting however they were still getting tested on their medical knowledge. The OR had it’s regular flicker of lights, the smell of antiseptics and the hues of blue across the room. 

“I saw Allison, you can't believe the beating that she took and then you see this!” Nico whisper-shouted towards Hazel.

“It's like that old saying- you should see the other guy.” Hazel nodded.

“Why aren't we attempting to re-attach the severed penis?” Annabeth's stern but questioning voice cut through their conversation. 

“Teeth tear not slice- you can only reattach when there's a clean cut. If she had sliced it off with a knife, perhaps then we could re-attach,” Hazel quickly recited. 

“And the digestive juices didn't leave a lot of the flesh to work with,” Nico added on.

“So what are we doing?” Dr Chase asked, a hint of boredom lingering in her voice. 

“Sewing him up minus a large part of the family jewels,” Nico snorted slightly. 

“What will his outlook be?” Dr Chase asked while holding her hand out for the nurse to take the instrument out of her hand. 

“He will be urinating out of a bag for a very very  very long time,” Hazel said, slightly pleased. 

“Not to mention he will never be able to have sex again,” Nico said, not in least bit sympathetic. 

“Oh too bad, what a shame,” Hazel drawled. 

“Let's all take a moment to grieve,” Annabeth said sarcastically before immediately asking for a clamp. 

 Hour 25

“Chief!” Frank jogged, trying to catch up with Chiron while waving frantically. He had taken time off and realised if he wanted this, he had to think about everyone- not just himself. He needed to learn his faults and how to get over them. 

“Frank.” Chiron nodded, “Do you need something?”

“Why can’t I be chief? You helped me before, you believed in me, what changed?”

“You really want to know?” Chiron sighed looking at Frank who nodded. “You’re too comfortable in your job. You never go the extra step. Your arrogance isn’t impressive- if you want to be chief Frank, you have to earn it.”

The words knocked Frank back-  My arrogance isn’t impressive? If I recall correctly,    you  told me to be more arrogant and now it’s a problem? You tell someone to do something and then you tell them to do the exact opposite. What in the name of Pluto is his problem?

 The interns were all pretty different but they could agree that they  hated  their job. They were sitting on the stretchers by the vending machine (which at this point had become their hangout away from the attendings) and were complaining- which apparently makes up 80% of all human conversations.

“My head hurtss,” Grover groaned, throwing backwards against the wall. 

“Maybe you have a brain tumor,” Hazel said after sipping some coffee.

“No, you want me to have a tumor.”

“I'd personally rip your face off if it meant I got to scrub in,” Hazel confessed, not feeling guilty in the slightest. Juniper made her way from the vending machine, holding a snickers bar like her life depended on it. 

“I've been suturing all day, my hands are numb and I'm regretting not taking foregin languages in high school,” she sighed as she plopped her bottom onto the stretcher, leaving space for Nico and Jason. 

“At least you’re helping people,” Jason called as he put his hand up the vending machine in an attempt to retrieve his chips which had decided to not obey the laws of physics and get stuck. Nico who stood behind him shuffled Jason out the way, gave the vending machine a violent kick before the packet of chips fell out, directly into Jason's hands- that was until Nico literally stole them from him.

“At least you get to practise freakin medicine!” Grover called out, sick of delivering lab results to patients.

“Mrs Lu, the chinese lady, I had to send her away. I mean I stiched her up but she stayed camping in the Pit- she left in the end though,” Juni said in a defeated tone.

“The police can't send some crime person down so I have to spend the night with a penis,” Nico complained before looking over to Grover, “ Grover don’t make the joke.”

Grover tutted, “It was too easy anyway.”

Finally, Jason cut in the conversation. They were all sick of being used and not actually learning. Gosh, did the hospital not realise that they were also doctors- not useless med students who couldn’t find their heads from their ass! 

“Who here has no idea what they’re doing?” Jason cried. Everyone, except Grover, shot their hands up. Nico was not ashamed to admit he did not know what he was meant to be doing- saving lives or babysitting penises? 

“Are we meant to be learning something? Because I don’t think I'm learning anything!” Jason added as he slumped further in the stretcher that they were all sharing.

“Except how not to sleep,” Juniper retorted. 

“It's like there’s this wall and the attendings and the residents are over there being surgeons and were over here being-” Hazel started passionately but was cut off by her brother. 

“- Suturing, code running, lab delivering penis minders,” Nico finished. 

“I hate being an intern,” Grover concluded. Nico seated beside him grunted in agreement. The interns continued their mindless complaints until Dr Chase walked in, her expression stern and her arms resting on her hips in a manner that screamed  And what exactly do you think you’re doing?  All it took was a raised eyebrow from Dr Chase and the interns were scrambling off the stretcher and rushing off back to their jobs. She snatched the unopened pack of chips that Nico had left on the stretcher and helped herself. 

Nico often made very bad decisions. It was something the people around simply expected of him at this point- if it wasn’t Bianca then it was Hazel or Percy (but normally Percy would also join in on the bad decisions). Despite being warned not to, Nico found himself staring at the baby from the NICU earlier. As Nico looked up slightly, he saw 2 people cooing towards a baby and Nico could only assume that they were the parents. He could feel the dumb and stupid thoughts brewing and bubblinmg in his mind. He tried to stop them, he tried to tell himself to not move towards them but he couldn’t help himself- he never could in all honesty. While Nico was a very patient person sometimes, some impulses just couldn’t be left on stand-by. 

As Nico finished explaining to the parents what he believed to be wrong with the child, the intern in pink scrubs from earlier who had specifically told Nico to leave walked into the communal area. Nico was absolutely busted- car lights on, bambi style busted. 

“I warned you to not come back here,” They snarled before beheading into another room and practically grabbing Leo Valdez by the arm. Leo slowly retracted his arm out of their grasp before dusting it lightly.

“Hi, can I help you?” Leo started, his lips parted in a gorgeous and genuine grin- something that even Nico had to admit was cute. 

“If our baby is sick, we want him treated,” The parents started, their voices thick with worry and concern. Nico could practically hear the tremble in it. 

“Of course, which child is yours?” Leo asked with his professionalist front- he’d have to deal with the interns later. 

Frank hated the interns. He hated Chiron and he hated his life. Not necessarily in that order. He was used to the incompetence of the interns. He was used to them making mistakes or hesitating but the one thing he wasn’t used to was pure disobedience. He had directly told Di Angelo to  not  approach peds or any of their cases. So what exactly Di Angelo was doing with Valdez and his intern talking to a pair of seemingly very concerned parents, Frank honestly did not know and would have liked to have kept it that way. 

“Dr Valdez, can we speak for a second?” Frank asked. He and Leo were good friends, he knew that Leo wouldn’t get offended or turn it into a scandal. 

“Sure, I’d like to know what on earth is going on though. No offence, but your intern shouldn’t be here,” Leo started, his hand brushing his curls out of his face.

“I told you earlier to not come back and look who’s here!” The intern snarked in Nico’s face. 

“The baby had a tetralogy spell* earlier and a heart murmur- they aren't consistent with a benign systolic ejection murmur!” Nico argued. Frank turned to the intern, he could already see them faltering. He wouldn’t call himself scary- it was mainly just him being tall and built like a marine, not that he really cared. 

“How sure are you? How sure are you that it is a benign systolic ejection murmur? 100 percent sure?” Frank turned to the intern. He watched as their face twisted, like they had just realised that they had been a fly trapped in a spider's web.

“Are you 100 percent sure about the diagnosis?” Leo turned towards his resident, a look of hesitation and slight horror creeping up onto his face. His previous interns from the past 2 years were so much easier than this. Everyone listened to him, barely anyone died and there weren’t sneaky, semi- famous italian legacies sneaking into his department. Not that he blamed Nico, in fact he had to admit that he was secretly impressed with the doctors observation skills- especially considering he was an intern. But after all, he was a Di Angelo. 

“I dunno...like 75 percent..” They mumbled towards the floor. Gods, if his intern was wrong, it would be on his ass! How on earth was he about to mess up so badly? This was his 3rd year in residency- he couldn’t afford to screw up. 

“Can I see the patient's chart?” Dr Zhang held his hand out towards the intern who hastily handed it over- as if it was a ticking time bomb. Dr Zhang flipped through a few pages, pretending to read them. In reality, he had already made up his mind and was just humming the tune to  Stayin alive . 

“Valdez, the patient's on my service now. That chill with you?” Frank concluded. Leo gave a thumbs up, slightly relieved to have some sort of work off his back but also slightly saddened that an interesting case was snatched out of his hands by his ignorant intern. 

“I want an EKG*, chest X- ray and an Echo*, let's make it quick, we don't have all day,” Frank told Nico, who nodded before quickly running off.

“He can do that?” They whispered into Leo’s ear with an astonished tone.

“Yeah, he's attending.”    

“So is your girlfriend.”   

 “She is not my girlfriend!” Leo protested as the intern raised an eyebrow. Leo did not have a strong case here, considering Calypso was always seen with him or vice Versa. In fact, they often arrived and left the hospital together, worked on similar cases and they knew each other's coffee orders like the back of their hand. It wasn’t like anything could happen between them. In reality, they arrived and left together due to their apartments being in a close proximity, they had similar cases co-incidentally due to their specialties and well, the coffee orders… Well that was hard to explain- how would Leo say  Oh yeah, I just watch her everytime she orders her coffee because her lips look very very nice and soft and when she takes a sip, her eyes flutter a bit and it makes her eyes look magical and then there’s when she’s getting mad at me because I’m taking ages to leave my apartment and she just looks like she’s about to implode but in a very sexy, cute and beautiful way. 

Yeah, no way was he saying any of that. 

 Hour 30

Was there anything left to do? Juni had been here for so long she could practically feel the fluorescent lights in her head. The Pit was empty, the blue stretchers all cleaned up with no patients walking in. There was officially nothing to do- empty emergency and waiting room. For the sake of checking, Juni walked into the waiting room one more time, looking around for any injured souls- alas, there were none. 

Except Mrs Lu, who stood in the middle of the hallway, waving her hand towards Juni as if she was gesturing for her to follow her. Juni looked around- it wasn't as if there were any patients here, what could go wrong? She tiptoed outside into the brutal thundering of the rain,  which plastered her hair to her face and her white coat to her scrubs. The wind was chilly and strong- whispering to her temptations and desires. The wind was always so ethereal- it could destroy but it could also be beautiful.

“Mrs Lu? Where are you taking me?” Juniper called out as she jogged blind in the dark while the wind whipped around her face. She found herself crouching behind the large industrial hospital bins. A young girl, barely into her early 20s sat there with a large bloody wound across her forehead. On viewing it, Juniper immediately hissed. The gash looked deep and Juni could already see the edges of it forming a scab. There was blood stuck to her face, some infiltrating the tip of her eyelids and the girl herself was trying to not screw her eyes in pain. 

“Oh my gods…What.. What happened?” Juni was speechless.

“A big machine in the factory.. it .. it fall on us,”  the girl explained. Juniper was relieved- she knew a bit of english, enough for Juniper to understand. 

“It’s going to be okay now, you can come inside an-”

“-No! No, no inside. Here!” The girl protested frantically, shaking her head back and forth which made Juniper think  Ouch . 

“But, I need to stitch you up and she went inside.” Juniper pointed to Mrs Lu. 

“She allowed, me not allowed! I will go jail!”

Juniper realised what she was trying to tell her. Mrs Lu was a legal immigrant but the girl was an illegal one. An overwhelming amount of sympathy and admiration surged inside of  Juniper. The amount of bravery this poor girl must have and all the stuff she must have gone through. Juniper knew that if she helped the girl and was caught- everything would be over. A small voice in her head was telling her to help- she was  doctor after all, she took the hippocratic oath which stated I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures which are required

“The injury is deep but I think I can fix it. I need to go and get some stuff first so you have to stay here okay. Stay here.”

The girl nodded, the corner of her lips turning into a grateful smile, “Thank you.”

As Juniper was about to jog back to the hospital, she remembered she did not have one piece of information that she got from every patient- illegal or not.

“One question, what’s your name? I’m Juni,” She asked. 

“Nuwa. Nuwa Lu,” the girl responded with comfort settling onto her face. 

  Nico didn’t like that he was short. He constantly had to push to the front of crowds, people were often belittling and it also meant he had to walk twice as fast to catch up with people who were like 6’4- Like Dr Zhang. He was not afraid to admit that he was short- he simply didn’t like that for some reason it was a bad thing; if anything, it meant he was an eco-friendly version of a human.

“Dr Zhang,” Nico sounded slightly out of breath, “ What’s the diagnosis?” 

“It was the tetralogy of fallot with pulmonary atresia*. I’m booking an OR,” he confirmed.

Nico stopped walking as Frank stood by the elevator. Normally, Nico preffered to simply nod at people when they expected a thank you. It was just 2 words that he would never expect to come blurting his mouth and honestly he did not expect the words  Thank you   to come out when he spoke to Dr Zhang so of course, he did not say thank you. Yes, he was grateful but  Thank you?  To Nico, that was almost as close to  I love you  on the list of forbidden words. 

“I appreciate you backing me up here-”

“-Nuh uh. Listen kid, you were right one time but what you did, going behind another doctor's back and speaking to the parents, trying to steal a patient from another service. Don’t ever pull that again, you got it?” Dr Zhang reprimanded him. He knew that Di Angelo had a lot of potential but if he was gonna think with his head in his ass all the time, there were going to be problems

Nico knew this was Dr Zhang's version of- you did good but also you did bad. In all honesty, Nico couldn’t care less. In fact, he was so smugly obsessed that he was right that he was very much beyond okay with being told off if it meant he was right, it was worth it. Especially since that smug little intern thought that they were so right in their gloriously pathetic little mind.

 Will did not like feeling like this. He had been lucky to avoid it all his life but for some god forsaken reason, depression had started to chase him. So he took a job where he would have no time for depression- if you’re working 24/7 you don't really ever get the chance to listen to your thoughts. But as he sat down at the desk by Allison trying to focus on his charting, he could feel himself slowly losing all motivation. The beeping on the heart monitor, which normally drew a large smile across Will’s face, wasn’t helpful- it was depressing. The entire room felt bland, empty and he could feel his mind and thoughts going numb. He was trying to hold his head up, trying to be strong for his patient, trying to finish the day without having a slump. His eyes flickered back up towards Allison, whose eyes had remained closed- as if she was vegetable. 

 “Okay, you’re all sewn up!” Juni finished up the last touches of the stitches of Nuwa’s forehead before rolling back the squeaky old chair that she was sitting on.

“Nuwa, you might have a scar and you have to come back in 5 days okay? I need to take out the stitches and clean the wound to make sure it doesn’t get infected. So you need to come back. We will meet here, same place at 7pm. 5 days okay?” Juniper informed, trying to not rush her words all out in a panic. She watched as Nuwa gave a small nod with a shy smile indicating she understood. As Juniper packed up, she realised she had to remind Nuwa of something else. 

“Oh but you can’t tell anybody that I helped you outside the hospital. I might lose my medical license and my job.  Do you understand?” 

“Come back in 5 days and dont tell.” Nuwa nodded eagerly towards Juni who gave her a brief hug.  

 “Dr Chase, do you think I’m too confident?” Dr Zhang anxiously asked. He didn’t think he’d ever have to ask such a question. To him, it seemed obvious- no. Frank recalled all his life, simply never having the confidence to do things and sure, he had boosted it up a slight notch by becoming a surgeon- a world renowned one none the less- but he wouldn’t call himself overconfident. 

“No,” Annabeth answered bluntly but Zhang knew her better than she thought he did.

“Don’t lie,” Frank mumbled slightly. 

“You are my boss,” Annabeth retorted. Anyone who had been nearby would have immediately snorted at such a comment- When did Annabeth Chase actually care about her bosses opinions? 

“Fine, in the next 30 seconds anything you say, I will not take to heart, starting now.” Frank raised his watch before diverting his eyes to his resident who immediately started talking. 

A bit eager, Chase?

“I think you’re cocky, arrogant, bossy and pushy. You also have a god complex,” Annabeth started which caused Frank to frown.  God Complex? Since when?

“You never think about anybody but your damn self- “

“- Hey wait a-”

“-I have another 22 seconds and I am  not done.”

Frank scratched his head while rethinking his life decisions. The most prominent thought at hand was-

  Oh shit maybe this wasn't a great idea

The interns were serving their last hour on call and it had gotten to the point where they were all desperate for their lives at work to come to an end. Jason, Juniper and Hazel were all in the locker room, freshening up and looking forward to leaving the hospital. 

“I need a drink, a man or a massage or a drunken massage by a man,” Hazel mused. A short ‘ew’ came from Juniper as she brushed through her knotty hair. Jason on the other hand, did not respond and instead was violently harassing his teeth with his toothbrush. Hazel took one short glance at Jason before an alarmed look creeped onto her face.

“What's wrong with you?” She asked, slipping on a new scrub shirt.

“I lost 5 patients today and I feel like the angel of death,” he spat his toothpaste out, as if he had a deep vendetta against it.

“Hey at least you're not the actual angel of death. I’m pretty sure there’s a serial killer with that alias,” Hazel responded thinking about her conversation with Nico. For some reason  The angel of death  reminded her of some conversation they’d had. 

“Charles Cullen- convicted of 40 murders, suspected of more- currently in prison on life sentence and is 60 years old,” Nico recited as he walked into the locker room. Juniper and Jason both stopped dead in their tracks, slightly alarmed at the information that was spilling out of Nico’s mouth like he memorized it for fun. 

The best part was he actually did memorise it for fun.

Casting her eyes away from her brother, who in no way surprised her with that information, Hazel sighed, “Jason, 95% of code patients can't be revived. Most are already dead by the time you get there.”

“What! Why didn't you tell me that when I was going on and on about how great it was gonna be!” Jason cried, embarrassed about his bragging. Hazel took a deep breath as she made her way to exit the room.

“Because, you’re Jason and I’m Hazel.”

 Hour 40

Nico was getting really sick about the penis in a box. It literally had to follow him everywhere and worst of all, people asked him what was inside it. What kind of conversation starter was ‘oh, just a bitten off penis’? So when Nico saw Dr Solace still in the room of Allison he felt slightly relieved- at least Dr Solace wouldn’t ask him what was in the box; mainly because Dr Solace was in the surgery where the penis was retrieved. 

As Nico approached Dr Solace, he noticed that he wasn't really there. His eyes seemed less alive, less sparkly and more like the dull blue hues of the hospital. It was just something about the way his hand had propped up his face as if he had no further energy to continue anything that made Nico slightly alarmed for him. 

Alarmed? You’re just worried that he may pass out because then it would mean no more surgeries.  

At least, that's what Nico told himself. Besides, he had other things to worry about- like how he was going to lead Solace on. Afterall, there was a reason he was putting up with him.

“Hey, how’s Allison?” Nico asked, standing directly behind Will. Will, depressed as ever responded in a small tone. 

“So far, nothing’s changed.”

“Have you been here all night?” Nico asked in slight astonishment and borderline concern.

“Yep. I have 3 brothers and a sister. They’re all doctors as well. If I was in a coma, they’d all be here- I’d want them here because having nobody… I can’t imagine that.” 

“I can.”

Nico hadn’t meant for the small comment to slip out of his mouth. Wills face scrunched up immediately as he turned his head to look at the intern. 

“What are you on about? What about your sister?”

For a fraction of a second, Nico was horrified at the thought that somehow Will had figured out that Hazel and Nico were siblings. But then Nico remembered that Hazel levesque was not an infamous name within the world of doctors and Bianca Di Angelo was.The first person to come to mind was Hazel, not Bianca. The guilt was overwhelming- did this mean Nico was forgetting his sister? He couldn’t do that, not when she needed him! Hazel was just a girl who happened to make sarcastic quips like him, who just happened to stand up for him, who happened to be slightly related to him. So what? Did it make them family? No! In Nico’s eyes, they weren’t even siblings. Just 2 people who had to get on with each other for the sake of others around them, Bianca was his real sister.

“That’s true, I do have my sister,” Nico said but even as the words left his lips, he knew he wasn’t talking about Bianca. 

“She’d be ordering surgeons around and flying cowboys* from Prague to do amazing medical procedures,” Will continued as he got up to throw a wrapper in the bin. When he returned, he leaned against the door frame slightly, as if he was a bad boy in one of those high school cliche films. 

“So we’re kissing but we’re not dating, huh?” One of his eyebrows raised slightly resulting in a ridiculous face that Nico believed to be hilarious- not that he’d ever let Solace know that he thought that. Nico fell back into scheming mode- if the conversation was heading where he thought it was, he needed to have his manipulative little plan out and ready.

“I’m all for the kissing. In fact, there should be more kissing,” Will hummed.

“I don’t know how or why it happened,” Nico admitted. 

“Is it gonna happen again?” Will asked before lowering his voice, “ I need to bring some breath mints. Put some condoms in my wallet.” Will winked and Nico could physically feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. He had never blushed this badly in his entire life- not even when Percy winked at him.

Abort! Abort! This was not part of the plan. Why are you blushing you incompetent good for nothing nincompoop!

“There’s this baby upstairs in peds. It’s new and not neglected. It hasn’t been disappointed by anyone or rejected. How do we get from there to here? Alisson is wearing my boots and someone has beaten the crap out of her and here she is with nobody.” Nico was practically counting down the minutes left before he could leave at this point. However, before Will could respond, a rapid beeping came from one of the machines hooked up to Allison. Will scurried forward in a panic. 

“Her ICP* has doubled. Page Jackson and get an OR ready- tell them to prep for a craniotomy*. Hang a mannitol and take a blood gas*!” Will shouted over the frantic beeping of the machine.

 Nico was pacing back and forth. He felt like he was Allison’s mother. There she was in surgery all by herself and he- someone who had never met her- was pacing back and forth like they had known each other their entire lives. His head practically shot up as he saw Will and Percy come through the doors he had been waiting in front of. Solace shot him a sympathetic smile as he walked past- Percy on the other hand had stayed in front of Nico and his expressions looked grave.

How was Percy meant to say this? This was his childhood best friend of his entire life and he was somehow meant to tell him that his patient was most likely now a vegetable. He didn’t know why it was going to be so hard- Nico was someone who knew how to take news. Sure, Nico never took it well and would often just isolate himself until someone forcefully dragged his butt out but he would never break down. Well, Percy had never thought he had. 

“I had to leave a flap of her skull open until the pressure and swelling in her brain goes down,” Percy confessed nervously, ruffling his messy hair that had been matted down under his scrub cap.

In a pained voice, Nico whispered, “She isn’t gonna make it.”

Percy hadn’t heard Nico use such a voice since his mother had passed away. Nico had been a bit different after that- as one would expect- but the tone that he had adapted when the tragedy occurred was a tone that truly inspired fear in Percy. It was the voice of calamity combined with pain. It was like destruction without the anger, it was like love without the trust, it was like a human with no soul. It was heart wrenching. 

“She’ll be fine,” Percy insisted as he pulled Nico into a hug, letting the shorter boy rest his head on his shoulder. Nico wondered if Percy was right. He liked the possibility, the chance that it was true. 

But Nico realised that she’d only be alright if she ever woke up.

Nico and never been happier to sign off the custody of something away from himself. Finally, the penis he had been carrying around owud no longer be his possession- he already had a dick, thank you very much. Just ask Solace.

Will and Percy did not really interact with each other much. It wasn't anything personal but they just both run such busy departments that hanging out was something much easier said rather than done. Despite this, they were together as they stormed into the room of 312. Percy and Will were not violent people- they were surgeons, doctors, sworn under the hippocratic oath to do no harm. But it would be an understatement of the year if one were to say that they did not look like terrifying bloodthirsty hungry beasts as they slammed the light on and snarled as they walked into the room of the rapist.

Will slammed his hand onto the side of the stretcher. Once, twice and a third time. It startled the man in bed to jump awake. Threateningly, Will slammed his hand above the man in the stretcher so he was practically leaning over him while Percy stood on the other side with both hands resting on the other handle of the bed. 

“We have good and bad news. The good news is that my unbiased girlfriend who is also an exceptional surgeon managed to stop you from bleeding to death,” Percy snarled.

“The bad news is we’ve given your penis to the cops. Have a nice life,” Will growled as both men left the room with Will slamming the door so hard, the hinges rattled.

 Nico enjoyed watching the babies. He however, did not enjoy watching the babies with Jason, Juniper and Hazel. Watching a cooing to babies was a very private matter- if word ever got out to his attendings that this happened… well Dr Zhang had already warned him. As he watched them, he realised they get the chance to start afresh. They may have no knowledge but they give people the chance to start afresh, to be something else and change opinions. 

“All right, you guys can move in,”Nico groaned, giving up. Jason and Juniper squealed, jumping up and down celebrating. 

“I can't believe I caved,” Nico admitted. 

Hazel snorted, “I blame the babies.”

 Hour 48

The world felt groggy as her eyelids fluttered. This wasn't her cheap New York hotel room, the lights wouldn't be on. She wanted to breathe but she couldn't do it alone-she could feel something obstructing her throat. It felt like something had been forced down there and immediately memories had come flooding back. The rapist, how she had been forced to her knees, the beating. She realised this must be the hospital and if she could think and her eyes were open, then she must be alive.  She watched as a doctor with curly blond hair looked at her with astonishment before grabbing the arm of another doctor- with sea green eyes and a mop of balck hair on his head. 

The elevator always took ages to arrive and always took even longer to get you to the floor you wanted. Will did not mind this. Nico on the other hand, definitely minded this. He had beds to sleep in and mythomagic cards to nerd out with.

“It's intense, this thing I have for ferry boats again,” Wills voice cut straight through Nico’s thoughts. Nico turned his head to look at the source of the voice. 

Of course it's you

 Nico knew what would happen if they climbed the empty elevator and he was tired. Part of his plan was revived around Will Solace pinning after him and this was the perfect chance to start it. 

“I’m soo taking the stairs this time,” Nico decided. 

“You have no self control!” Will called out knowing Nico’s reason for not boarding the elevator, “ It’s sad really!” 

 Hour 49

“Hey Reyna, pass the coat next to you,” Percy asked as he grabbed his bag off the floor and kissed Annabeth on her head. Reyna tossed the coat towards Percy before grabbing her backpack and zipping up her jacket. The attendings and residents filtered out slowly, one by one leaving Leo in there by himself. Leo didn’t mind being alone. In fact, he enjoyed it. There was something about being able to hum songs while you worked with no distractions that simply appealed to him. He was currently humming a song his Tia Callida had taught him when he was little. 

“Are you humming?” A voice came from behind him. Normally, Leo would have ignored the voice or made a snarky remark but he recognised this voice. 

“What! Uh, no?” He shrugged sheepishly as he turned around to look at Calypso who had her eyes half closed as if she was enjoying the tune. 

“Oh don’t try lying to me  Leonidas . I liked it anyway,” she admitted as she leaned forward to access the coffee machine. Calypso was the only person who knew Leo’s full name and the only person he’d ever let get away with calling him that. Leo could feel a rush of butterflies from Calypso's compliment. While it seemed minor, Leo rarely got compliments- so he appreciated them but he also did not know how to properly take one without blubbering. 

“What are you still doing here?” Leo asked.

“Hoping to get rid of me I see?” 

“No! No, it’s just we came in at the same time and your shift is over so you’re probably tired so you should probably go home and relax,” Leo rambled. 

“You also came in at the same time you know. You shouldn't be here as well.”

That shut Leo up. He sat himself on the sofa, not wanting to move. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tired and sleep sounded so nice right now but he did not want to go home. Every time he went back to his apartment, the nightmares would come rushing back and he would wake up covered in sweat. It was like he was cursed.

“Are you okay?” Calypso’s voice sounded concerned.

“I should be asking you that mi amor.” Leo winked before mentally slapping himself.  Why on earth did he call her that? Everyone knows that mi amor means my love- it's practically common knowledge!

“You aren’t going to sweet talk your way out of my question Leonidas.” Calypso’s eyes narrowed slightly as she sat on the sofa next to Leo. He sat with one leg slightly bent on the sofa and the other dangling off it whereas Calypso had both her legs crossed as if she was back in nursery. 

“I’m tired Callie. Aren’t you?”

“We’re surgeons. It’s what we signed up for. And I’ve seen you tired before Valdez, you aren’t like this.”

“Like this?”

“So… distant. You’ve barely gone on any rants or tangents since forever. You only order black coffee or an almost suicidal amount of espresso now. Everytime you smile, you only do it because someone just approaches you, otherwise your face is unreadable or miserable!” Calypso cried, throwing one of her arms up. 

“Just because I’m less talkative Callie doesn’t mean there’s something wrong. I need to coffee to stay awake,” Leo defended himself calmly, holding both of Calypso’s hands to help keep her from exploding. 

“What is keeping you up that you need so much caffeine? Is it work, family… a partner?” Calypso’ face physically scrunched up at the idea of Leo losing sleep over doing the deed with another person.

“I...I’m just not getting as much sleep as I should be getting. You know how tough work can be on residents especially because I’m looking for a peds fellowship,” Leo lied through his teeth. He could feel the empty pit of anxiety inside of him calm slightly as he saw the stressed out facial features of Calypso relax. While he felt guilty for lying, he felt better that it wasn’t stressing her out so much. It was only then that he noticed how close their bodies were. They weren’t extremely close but they weren't exactly far away either. 

“I've got to tell you about this couple I had today. So the mother is all excited because she wants a boy and the dad is really really excited because he wanted a girl and they’re both arguing back and forth about which one the baby will be. So I do the ultrasound and guess what!”

“What?” Leo asked, practically smitten with her features. The way her eyes widened with glee as she talked about her patients, or how her smile was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Her cheeks had these dimples that would appear every time she spoke but when she smiled, the ones under her eyes would show up and it was always endgame for him then. Her eyes were like pools of honey- sweet, delicate and magical. There was just something about the way her curly hair would always be in a tropical hairstyle as if she was on a beach that made him want to kiss her. 

“They had twins! Yeah, so it was a case of twin to twin transfusion syndrome* and one was a boy and the other a girl. So in the end they both got what they wanted and I got myself a very  very interesting case!” 

Leo chuckled as he watched her rant. As they fell into conversation about their patients, they got closer and closer until they both had their arms leaning on the sofa and were gazing at each other's faces. Calypso’s eyes drifted downwards towards Leo’s rolled up sleeves- as they always did. As her eyes traveled upwards, she spotted something by Leo’s collarbone- like a flick of ink. She didn’t know if she read it right but it looked like it said Bad Boy Supreme with a small fire around it. 

“Is that.. Is that a tattoo?” Calypso asked, her hand reaching forward to pull at his shirt slightly to gain a better view. Caught slightly off guard, Leo froze before remembering that he did in fact have a tattoo. He unbuttoned the first 3 buttons to give her a better view. 

“Leonidas… did you actually… oh my gods.” Her hand had accidentally pressed on Leo’s chest which was surprisingly muscle. Leo looked scrawny, wasn’t the tallest (still taller than Nico) and didn’t hang out with any other people beside his colleagues so Calypso was not expecting a firm plate of muscle to be directly underneath her palm.

“Yep. You said I should get  Bad Boy Supreme  tattooed, so I did,” he said rather shakily. Could you blame him though?  You  try talking normally while the girl you’re in love with touches your chest and has her face up so close against it you could feel her breath. 

“I did not think you had it in you,” she confessed, her face still close to his chest with her finger now tracing the art. 

“ Mamacita , I’m offended,” he huffed jokingly. She raised her head slightly to raise an eyebrow only to be slightly alarmed at how close they were. If she moved one millimeter upwards, their lips would touch. Her hand was warm on his chest and she could feel his heart beating slightly faster as she traced the words of his tattoo. Her other hand was in his hair- the luxurious chocolate curls which obstructed his face bothered her- she wanted to see his eyes. She pushed them back ever so slightly. She was so close to his face, she could see the different shades of brown that pooled in his eyes- in a sort of chaotic manner that made his eyes look majestic. She couldn't help but stare into them and draw herself close to him- his eyes were honey and she was a bee. She dared to move her head slightly higher so that their eyes locked. They knew what each other were thinking. They could feel each other's thoughts.

 Leo kept his gaze on Calypso’s eyes which had darted down to his lips. She watched as he swallowed and his lips parted softly. She raised her head and moved slightly forward and they could each other breath dancing on their lips. Their lips brushed, like a painter's first stroke on a canvas. They were slow, not desperate- it was like they had all the time in the world. Their lips were barely touching like butterfly wings. Leo could feel her warmth and inhale the coffee on her breath. Just as they were about to truly kiss,  Leo’s pager started beeping making them both scramble backwards away from each other.

Without another word, Leo got up and left the room.

All the things that have a little * by it will have definitions down here! Code team: The team on call who are required to respond to a code blue which is when someone's heart has stopped GCS: Stands for the Glasgow Coma Scale. It measures a person's level of consciousness after a brain injury- it measures the function of the eyes, body and speech. BP: Is an abbreviation for the 'blood pressure'. Ventilator: Is a machine that essentially provides air for your body when you cannot do it yourself- often patients who suffer extreme injuries will be put on a ventilator. BA: Stands for bachelor of Arts which is an undergraduate degree- please keep in mind that it's not a literal degree in art, it's just called that. PHD: Stands for Doctor of Philosophy. Once again, this isn't a literal doctorate degree in Philosophy. MD: Stands for Doctor of Medicine- now this is a degree that is literally in medicine. Asystole Pulse: In the most basic way I could put it, flatlining. That means that the heart has completely stopped. Benign tumour: If a tumour is benign, it is harmless or not posing any threat to the body. Benign systolic ejection murmurs: Is normally a harmless condition where the heart makes a murmur because something is obstructing the valves in the heart. Tetralogy spell: When there is a quick drop in oxygen in the body and it makes the skin appear blue. EKG: Stands for electrocardiogram which is when those wires are stuck to your chest so that they can measure your heart's electrical signals. An EKG can also be called an ECG. Echo: An 'echo' is an abbreviation of echocardiogram- not to be confused with electrocardiogram. An echocardiogram is basically an ultrasound of the heart. Fallot of tetralogy with pulmonary atresia: This is a very complicated condition but essentially, it's the result of the 5 defects that this condition causes in the heart. Cowboy doctor: Is a doctor who is so definite in their diagnosis, they refuse to consider any other options. ICP: Stands for intracranial pressure which is just the pressure in your brain. Craniotomy: Not to get confused with a craniectomy, a craniotomy is when a piece of skull is removed temporarily to expose the brain. Mannitol: Mannitol is a sugar alcohol that can be used to decrease the intracranial pressure. TTS: Also known as Twin to Twin transfusion syndrome is a rare condition where twins in the womb share the same placenta- the result of this is one child getting more oxygen and nutrients than the other.

#percy jackson fanfic #solangelo fanfic #nico di angelo #will solace #caleo fanfic #percabeth #lightning mclean #frazel #frazel coming next chapter #heroes of olympus fanfic #pjo fanfic #hazel levesque #frank zhang #leo valdez #pjo fluff #pjo angst #jason grace #piper mclean #thalia grace #reyna ramirez arellano #percy jackson #annabeth chase #luke castellan #chiron #grover #chb #percabeth fanfic #greys anatomy fanfic #greys anatomy AU

[kookie-doughs]

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 12: Hello Poodle

We were pretty miserable that night.

We camped out in the woods, a hundred yards from the main road, in a marshy clearing that local kids had obviously been using for parties. The ground was littered with flattened soda cans and fast-food wrappers.

We'd taken some food and blankets from Aunty Em's, but we didn't dare light a fire to dry our damp clothes. The Furies and Medusa had provided enough excitement for one day. We didn't want to attract anything else.

We decided to sleep in shifts. I volunteered to take first watch.

Annabeth curled up on the blankets and was snoring as soon as her head hit the ground. Percy took the spot beside me and was laying on my lap. Grover fluttered with his flying shoes to the lowest bough of a tree, put his back to the trunk, and stared at the night sky.

"Go ahead and sleep," I told them. "I'll wake you guys if there's trouble."

He nodded, but still didn't close his eyes. "It makes me sad."

"What does? The fact that you signed up for this stupid quest?" Percy hissed.

"No. This makes me sad." He pointed at all the garbage on the ground. "And the sky. You can't even see the stars. They've polluted the sky. This is a terrible time to be a satyr."

"Oh, yeah. I guess you'd be an environmentalist."

He glared at him. "Only a human wouldn't be. Your species is clogging up the world so fast ... ah, never mind. It's useless to lecture a human. At the rate things are going, I'll never find Pan."

"Pam? Like the cooking spray?"

"Pan!" he cried indignantly. "P-A-N. The great god Pan! What do you think I want a searcher's license for?"

A strange breeze rustled through the clearing, temporarily overpowering the stink of trash and muck. It brought the smell of berries and wildflowers and clean rainwater, things that might've once been in these woods. Suddenly I was nostalgic for something I'd never known.

"Tell me about the search," I said.

Grover looked at me cautiously, as if he were afraid I was just making fun.

"The God of Wild Places disappeared two thousand years ago," he told me. "A sailor off the coast of Ephesos heard a mysterious voice crying out from the shore, 'Tell them that the great god Pan has died!' When humans heard the news, they believed it. They've been pillaging Pan's kingdom ever since. But for the satyrs, Pan was our lord and master. He protected us and the wild places of the earth. We refuse to believe that he died. In every generation, the bravest satyrs pledge their lives to finding Pan. They search the earth, exploring all the wildest places, hoping to find where he is hidden, and wake him from his sleep."

"And you want to be a searcher."

"It's my life's dream," he said. "My father was a searcher. And my Uncle Ferdinand ... the statue you saw back there—"

"Oh, right, sorry."

Grover shook his head. "Uncle Ferdinand knew the risks. So did my dad. But I'll succeed. I'll be the first searcher to return alive."

"Hang on—the first?"

Grover took his reed pipes out of his pocket. "No searcher has ever come back. Once they set out, they disappear. They're never seen alive again."

"Not once in two thousand years?"

"No."

"And your dad? You have no idea what happened to him?"

"None."

"But you still want to go," Percy said, amazed. "I mean, you really think you'll be the one to find Pan?"

"I have to believe that, Percy. Every searcher does. It's the only thing that keeps us from despair when we look at what humans have done to the world. I have to believe Pan can still be awakened."

I stared at the orange haze of the sky and tried to understand how Grover could pursue a dream that seemed so hopeless. Then again, was I any better?

"How are we going to get into the Underworld?" I asked him. "I mean, what chance do we have against a god?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But back at Medusa's, when you were searching her office? Annabeth was telling me—"

"Oh, I forgot. Annabeth will have a plan all figured out."

"Don't be so hard on her, Percy. She's had a tough life, but she's a good person. After all, she forgave me...." His voice faltered.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Forgave you for what?"

Suddenly, Grover seemed very interested in playing notes on his pipes.

"Wait a minute," I said. "Your first keeper job was five years ago. Annabeth has been at camp five years. She wasn't... I mean, your first assignment that went wrong—"

"I can't talk about it," Grover said, and his quivering lower lip suggested he'd start crying if I pressed him. "But as I was saying, back at Medusa's, Annabeth and I agreed there's something strange going on with this quest. Something isn't what it seems."

"Well, duh. I'm getting blamed for stealing a thunderbolt that Hades took."

"That's not what I mean," Grover said. "The Fur—The Kindly Ones were sort of holding back. Like Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy... why did she wait so long to try to kill you? Then on the bus, they just weren't as aggressive as they could've been."

"They seemed plenty aggressive to me."

I shook my head. "They were screeching at us: 'Where is it? Where?'"

"Asking about me," he said.

"Maybe if you haven't steered, we could've found out."

"Maybe ... but Annabeth and I, we both got the feeling they weren't asking about a person. They said 'Where is it?' They seemed to be asking about an object."

"That doesn't make sense."

"I know. But if we've misunderstood something about this quest, and we only have nine days to find the master bolt...." He looked at us like he was hoping for answers, but neither of us had have any.

"Maybe... Had--- the big guy isn't actually that bad."

"I haven't been straight with you," Percy told Grover. "I don't care about the master bolt. I agreed to go to the Underworld so I could bring back Y/N's parents and my mother."

Grover blew a soft note on his pipes. "I know that, Percy. But are you sure that's the only reason?"

"I'm not doing it to help my father. He doesn't care about me. I don't care about him."

Grover gazed down from his tree branch. "Look, Percy, I'm not as smart as Annabeth and Y/N. I'm not as brave as you and Y/N. But I'm pretty good at reading emotions. You're glad your dad is alive. You feel good that he's claimed you, and part of you wants to make him proud. That's why you mailed Medusa's head to Olympus. You wanted him to notice what you'd done."

"Yeah? Well maybe satyr emotions work differently than human emotions. Because you're wrong. I don't care what he thinks."

Grover pulled his feet up onto the branch. "Okay, Percy. Whatever."

"Besides, I haven't done anything worth bragging about. We barely got out of New York and we're stuck here with no money and no way west."

Grover looked at the night sky, like he was thinking about that problem. He turned to me, "How about I take first watch, huh? You two get some sleep."

I nodded and turned to Percy who wanted to protest, but he started to play Mozart, soft and sweet, and he turned away. After a few bars of Piano Concerto no. 12, I was asleep. He was sleeping.

"You're still awake?"

"Barely. I call the next shift okay?"

Grover nodded so I slept.

Believe in them.

Where is this coming from?

Water is our enemy, air is our demise, the darkness shall be our ally and the land should be haven. You should befriend Hades. We need someone on our side. We've already angered Poseidon and Zeus.

Why'd have to be him? He seem like the reason we're in this quest.

Trust your allies.

I was woken up. It was still dark and I could see Grover was droopy. Percy held my hand tight as he was trembling in his sleep.

When Grover saw me awake he just passed out on where he was sitting.

"Percy," I called him trying to keep quiet not to wake up the others. "Wake up." I slowly shook him.

His eyes shot open and looked at me in fear.

"Y/N..."

"Are you okay?"

"Nightmare..." He whimpered snuggling closer.

"Want to tell me about it?"

"Well... I was in a pit and someone was talking to me I think. I saw your parents' last moments... And my mom's then... I saw you drowning... desperately trying to save yourself. The voice told me to help them rise. I couldn't do anything..."

It is not us. I dare not hurt our hero.

"It's okay. Percy, don't worry. You should continue sleeping. Come on, I'm on watch."

He looked at me in hesitation and slept while I ran my hand on his hair.

~

"Well, good morning to you Peabody." I greeted Annabeth.

"Weren't you the first watch?"

"Grover went first watch. I went to sleep with Percy."

She turned to look at Percy who was asleep holding my hand. "Isn't it weird that he's so attached?" She grimaced.

"Well, to be fair. I feel like I have to stay with him no matter what. Like my subconscious telling me, don't leave him and stay. I'm not sure about his case though."

"Where's Grover?"

"I don't know he said he's going to look around. I'll look for him. Stay with Percy without killing him will you?"

"Eh, I'll try." She smiled.

"Good enough for me." As gentle as I could I remove his hand from mine and stood up to look for Grover.

It didn't take me long to find Grover who was sitting in the middle of no where in front of a pink poodle.

"Uh, whatcha got there?"

"He's our ride west." He looked at me. "His name is Gladiola."

"Uhm... hello." The dog looked at me then barked. "Well, let's bring him to Annabeth then."

Annabeth was as confused as I was when I found Grover. She greeted it hello reluctantly.

I shrugged at her as a response.

Grover sat cross-legged on a blanket with the dog on his lap.

I walked up to Annabeth and laughed, "I have no idea."

Percy stirred awake and sat up.

"Good morning." I smiled.

"The zombie lives." Annabeth tossed him a bag of nacho-flavored corn chips from Aunty Em's snack bar.

Percy eyed Grover confusedly and back at me and Annabeth.

The poodle yapped at Percy suspiciously. Grover said, "No, he's not."

Percy blinked. "Are you... talking to that thing?"

The poodle growled.

"This thing," Grover warned, "is our ticket west. Be nice to him."

"You can talk to animals?"

Grover ignored the question. "Percy, meet Gladiola. Gladiola, Percy."

He stared at Annabeth and I, as if we were kidding.

"I'm not saying hello to a pink poodle," He said. "Forget it."

"Percy," I said. "I said hello to the poodle. Annabeth said hello to the poodle. You say hello to the poodle."

The poodle growled.

He said hello to the poodle.

Grover explained that he'd come across Gladiola in the woods and they'd struck up a conversation. The poodle had run away from a rich local family, who'd posted a $200 reward for his return. Gladiola didn't really want to go back to his family, but he was willing to if it meant helping Grover.

"How does Gladiola know about the reward?" I asked.

"He read the signs," Grover said. "Duh."

"Of course," I said. "Silly me."

"So we turn in Gladiola," Annabeth explained in her best strategy voice, "we get money, and we buy tickets to Los Angeles. Simple."

"Not another bus," Percy said warily.

"No," Annabeth agreed.

She pointed downhill, toward train tracks I saw last night. "There's an Amtrak station half a mile that way. According to Gladiola, the westbound train leaves at noon."

Previous |

Masterlist | Next

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000

#Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson X Reader #Percy Jackson X Y/N #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan #Luke castellan x reader #Lightning thief #Y/N L/N #Y/N L/N and the halfbloods #Fanfiction #fanfictions #X reader #Book 1 #Chapter 12

[words-for-holland]

Quarantine Series: Birthday Date Night

Summary: It’s Y/N’s birthday, but Tom faces a slight problem. How does a boyfriend top off an accidental proposal while his girlfriend is working on her birthday...again!

Check the Rest: Burnt Out | A New Look | Secret Cuts & Kisses | Breaking Friendships |The Birthday Week | Movie Night | Silence is Golden?

Masterlist

A/N: Sad to say that Quarantine Series may end real soon with 3 more parts to go 🥺. Also this was inspired by my birthday which just happened fairly recently! Thanks for all the support!!

“Tom, mate. You’re pacing back and forth is making me dizzy.” Harry warned Tom, as he lied down on his bed, laptop in hand.

“Sorry, but I don’t know what to do! Y/N’s birthday is in a few days and I have absolutely no plan.” Tom reasoned as he plops on the couch across from Harry. “I mean I already blew the proposal which was supposed to be her birthday gift, but thats gone to shit.” He mumbled, biting his thumbnail.

“Just be happy she said yes.” Harry chuckled as he recalled the day. “I mean has she given any hints? You know Y/N, if there’s something she really wants, she’ll tell the whole world.”

“I know, but she hasn’t said a word and everytime I do ask her, she says ‘I dont know.’”, Tom groans as he rubs his temples. “I just want to do something really nice for her.”

Harry rolls his eyes as he continues shopping for his gift for Y/N. He and Y/N always loved to share memes and compete in board games, so it was only fair he’d get her an exclusive edition of Exploding Kittens. The one with a hard cover box, that plays mariachi music when you open it up. To be fair, he also really wanted it too, so imagine all the rounds they could play in a single day. “You always say this every year, but ever year you always deliver. I don’t know what you’re so worried about.”

Tom sits still to ponder on his brother thoughts. “Yeah..Yeah I guess. Maybe I could take her out for a picnic lunch date. I know she’ll love to get out of the house. I’ll ask her to take off on Friday and it’ll be perfect!” He plans excitedly. He stands up, proud of his well thought out plan, already thinking of the perfect place to settle, the blankets to bring, and the smooth moves he’ll plan to swoon her away. It was completely foolproof.

Just two days before, Y/N displays a noticeable frown on her face. Sludging through the house, only made Tom drop his smile twice as fast when he noticed. “Hey, darling is everything all right?” He asked with worry written all over his face. Deep down, Tom prayed, hoping it was just something she liked was sold out or that she found out the ending of Hamiliton or something..anything but...

“My boss needs me to work Friday. Apparently they think it’s a great idea to put me as the President in charge of IT while he’s out.” Y/N says in a disappointing tone. “Im sorry, I know you wanted me to take off and I definitely wanted to for my birthday, but I guess it’s not happening.” Y/N’s heart feels heavy as she sees Tom’s equally disappointed face. “I did ask for Monday off, so whatever it is you planned we can do it then!” She mentioned, trying to cheer him up.

Tom let out a sadden sigh. He knew it wasn’t her fault, but of all days? Right when he was about to leave for Berlin in less than 4 days? Right when he and Y/N could spend another birthday together? At this point Tom felt like a hopeless man, as he stood in front of his girlfriend, who showed remorse and sorrow. Her long hair draped over her shoulders, and lips forming into that adorable pout that he could not resist. It almost made him smile, but only a little. “I know, but its not the same! You’re turning 24 and you have to work? Can’t you make some excuse?” He asks coming closer to her, smiling mischieviously.

Y/N’s brows knit together as she cautiously observes Tom’s behavior. She knew that look, that smile, that little bite lip he was pulling. “Oh no. No. No. No.” she says repeatedly, resisting the charm. “Im not gonna make some excuse.”

Tom comes even closer, his face bending down a little to meet her eye level, smiling as he runs the very tips of fingers on her sides. “C’mon darling, break the rules a little. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” He whispers kissing down her neck. “Please?”

Y/N looks up and away from those deep brown eyes, still resisting. “Tom, you know I can’t, no matter how bad I want to say yes.”

Tom draws a line up to her jawline with the tip of his nose. His breath warm against her soft skin. He hums and smiles, “Is your boss a fan of spiderman? What about his kids? I for sure remember you telling me Zach was a huge fan.”

Y/N laughs as she rolls her eyes, but she found it so endearing. The fact that he even remembered your boss’ kids’ name even though he’s probably caught a glimpse of them once or twice during her zoom meetings. “No. You are most definitely not using your celeb status to get me off from work.”

Tom shrugs his shoulders, as if it weren’t a big deal. He wasn’t one for flaunting his fame, but if it meant he could spend another day with Y/N, he would gladly use it. “Please...” he pleads one more time. “Just wanna spend time with my girl on her special day.”

Y/N thinks about it. She really did want to take off, and Tom’s efforts were quite convincing to say the least. It was only a matter of time before Tom would have to leave for Berlin, and Y/N wanted nothing more than to spend every minute with him. But Y/N also knew that if she didn’t do as she was asked by her company, the higher ups would probably have a bad impression of her or worse...fire her on the spot. Yet she knew her boss was also an understandable and chill guy. It wasn’t like she couldnt take off, just not when he’d be out at the same time, especially when she was asked to be in charge of the entire department.

Then, it hit her. She quickly excused herself out of the room to talk to her boss, and quickly came back to Tom with a smile on her face. Tom loved the way she smiled, and how her one little dimple formed on the right side of her mouth. He knew she was really happy, and he had just an idea of what it was. “You got the day off.” He answered excitedly.

“No.” Y/N responded, “But I did ask for half a day, so I’ll be free after 12.” Y/N continues as she comes closer to Tom, wrapping her hangs around his neck. “Hows that for a compromise? And I’ll do anything you wanna do for the rest of the day.”

“Good because you’re gonna love what I have in store for you.” Tom says, almost ready to brag about his well thought out romantic plan. He was ready to treat her like the queen she was on her birthday. How could anything go wrong?

On that faithful Friday, Tom woke up Y/N to many many birthday kisses. Reciting how beautiful she was, and how he couldn’t wait to celebrate with her. Reluctantly he had to let go, as she padded her way to the bathroom to get ready and head into her makeshift office for the next 5 hours.

Tom was all smiles, excited to take Y/N out. While everything felt like it was going according to plan, his mates had other news. “Ninety percent of thunderstorms?!” Tom exclaimed to his best mates in the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a major storm out there. Probably the worse that London’s had in a while.” Tuwaine informs as he reads the news on his phone.

Tom became a stuttering mess not sure how to justify or ask how that could be possible when it was beautiful this entire week. “But...But...It’s so nice out now!” He says discouraged. “No, this ruins my entire plan.”

“Hey mate, dont be like that. You can still find a way to celebrate it. Maybe you can do something romantic inside?” Harrison offers. Thats when it clicked. Harrison smiles, knowning the answer to Tom’s problem. “Yeah..make a date night here. We can set up the living room to be all fancy like.”

“Yeah! Tuwaine Harrison and I can be your waiters and make your dinner. Then just leave you two alone to do whatever you want you want.” Harry suggests.

“Just please...don’t mess up the couch.” Tuwaine groans, thinking about the potential possibity. “Im getting grossed out just thinking about it.”

Tom looks at his mates, giving thought into the new back up plan. He smiles at the group saying , “Lads, I think we got a new plan.”

Its exactly three in the afternoon when Y/N logs off from her laptop. She looks up at the window to notice how dark and dreary it was outside. Thunder was booming, and rain droplets came down hard, splashing off the window. It was her favorite kind of stay-in weather, but she hoped it didnt interfere with Tom’s plans if they had anything to do with being outside. As she opened the door, Harry and Tuwaine greeted Y/N with their own gifts and hugs. They made sure, she got dressed up, and led her downstairs. “M’Lady, your fiance will be right out.” Harry says in the most posh accent he could muck up.

Y/N rolls her eyes, and the moment she sees Tom walk into the living room, her heart skipped a beat. He dressed up with a bouquet of flowers and balloons in his hand. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” He says. “You look so beautiful.”

Y/N takes the gifts from his hands, placing them on the table. She runs to Tom, kissing him passionately, savoring the sparks that came and left with every push and pull of their soft lips. “You had plans to go outside for my birthday didn’t you?” She teases.

Tom laughs, as he throws his head back. “Yeah...I was planning a picnic and everything, but thats why I made sure Plan B would just be as romantic.” He takes her hand as they sit down at the candlelit table, eating, drinking , and talking away about anything and everything. When it was sometime Harrison, Harry, and Tuwaine brought out a cake that Y/N had only been fantasizing and drooling about since May.

“No way! How did you guys order it?! I thought they didn’t do international shipping for Milk Bar!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Actually..they didn’t. But the recipe was online and we made it ourselves, with Sam’s help of course.” Harry answered, as he placed the candles in the center.

Her jaw dropped for a good ten minutes as she looked at the rainbow sprinkled cake, and the fluffy white frosting that sit perfectly in-between the layers. The crumbs on top were surprisingly uniformed and formed a perfect circle border, she was very impressed with them. Harrison lit the candles as all the boys sang along...off key of course with hints of laughter coming off every other note. Tom moved to her side, placing his arm around the back of her chair and leaned in to place a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Make a wish darling.”

Y/N looked up to see her favorite people in the entire world, smiling. “I dont need to. Everything I could possibly want is right here.” Y/N quickly blew the candles out and everyone left with their fair share of the cake. It was just Tom and Y/N left. They quickly changed out of their fancy clothes and back into their sleep wear, ending the night with watching Stardust and cuddles in the dark. Y/N tries to look behind her to see Tom’s face, who in turn looked down at her. She smiled at him whispering, “I love you.”

Tom quickly leaned in to capture her lips before answering, “I love you too. Happy Birthday Y/N.”

Taglist:

@hollanddolanfangirl @parkerspillow @joyleenl @kihyunwifes @holland-bowen @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @marvelobsessedteenager @viwihere

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader

[let-it-raines]

your wonder under summer skies (14/18)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

Rating: Mature

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 

-/-

This place is decidedly more cabin in the woods than Killian was expecting. Well, if the cabin in the woods was a bloody large cabin made for groups of people in Maine looking for a weekend away from their regular lives. When he looked at the link Anna sent him when they were planning this trip, he didn’t look past the specifics of price and how many bedrooms there were.

So when he pulled up and saw the two-story cabin with its wraparound porch and large, floor-to-ceiling windows nestled near a lake, he was a little taken aback. Mostly, though, he doesn’t understand how the owners of this place decided to make every wall wood paneling and for each damn piece of furniture to be made out of a log or pine or something that looks like it’ll put a splinter in his ass when he sits down.

Hell, he’s pretty sure that he’s going to turn the corner and there’s going to be animal heads hanging from the walls.

At least there’s sunshine and clear water and all of the food and alcohol that a man could ask for.

Or, well, that could be asked for by a joint bachelor and bachelorette party that Elsa and Liam wanted, the both of them insisting that they needed a weekend away and that it should be nothing like the beach…so naturally they’re spending it on a lake.

Anna seemed to think it was all a brilliant idea, and since she is so keen on planning things, he figured he’d let her do it instead of getting into arguments over it. Or, well, he might have been distracted when she called to talk about the trip because Emma was on her knees in front of him, and he wasn’t paying attention to anything other than the feel of her.

“Why do I feel like every time I turn a corner, a deer’s antlers or something are going to poke me in the eye?”

Killian chuckles and turns to Emma next to him. She’s got a large duffle bag hanging over her shoulder, and he doesn’t know what she packed, but it must be all of the contents of her closet.

“Because you probably will.”

“Okay,” Anna shouts as everyone keeps walking through the front door, chatting and dragging in suitcases and looking around, “I have had all of the bedrooms labeled. Elsa and Liam get the master, obviously. Mary Margaret and David have bedroom one on the first floor, and Kris and I will take bedroom two, which shares that bathroom. Will and Belle, bedroom three, which is at the end of the hall just down that way. Ariel and Eric, you have bedroom four, which is right at the top of the stairs and will share a bathroom with Ruby and Mulan’s room, which is bedroom five. The final room is, like, basically the attic. Emma and Killian, you guys get that one. It may or may not be the kids’ room, so don’t be surprised if there are bunk beds up there.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Killian mutters. “Bunk beds? We’re twenty-eight. We don’t get our own regular beds?”

“Do any of the couples here want to give up their private rooms with big beds to go sleep in the attic in bunk beds so that Killian can have a queen mattress?” “For fuck’s sake,” Killian laughs, rolling his eyes at Anna, “the beds are fine. I simply wasn’t aware Emma and I were going to be punished for not having significant others.”

“Yeah,” Emma joins in, “we should get compensated in, like, first choice of food tonight.” “I think Elsa and I get that,” Liam says. “You two will be fine. I’m sure the beds will be comfortable, but Emma, lass, as someone who lives with Killian, you might want earplugs. He snores.”

“Liar.”

Liam shrugs, bright smile on his face. “Have some mercy on the poor girl, Killian. Try not to be too loud.”

Killian opens his mouth to keep protesting, but then he snaps it shut. There’s no point. He doesn’t snore, and Emma knows that. Why should he care if everyone else thinks he snores? He’s sure that half of the people in this room do anyways.

This is Liam’s weekend.

If he reminds himself that enough, maybe he won’t try to pick at everything Liam says and does, and they can all have a good time like they’re supposed to.

Even if he does have to sleep in a damn bunk bed.

Emma elbows his side. “I have ear plugs, but that was mostly because I was scared I’d have to sleep next to David and Mary Margaret.”

“Please don’t put that image in my head.”

“We’re in a cabin full of couples, KJ. How is the image not in your head?”

Killian groans and tilts his head back, and Emma laughs, nudging him again before adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go put our stuff up. My legs are stiff from the drive, and I’m ready to go hiking.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Anna squeals, “I have sunscreen and bug spray for everyone who forgot it. I’ll leave it in the kitchen. Let’s all meet up in half an hour, okay?”

“Anna is…very organized,” Emma sighs as everyone begins walking in different directions looking for their bedrooms. “I feel like she’s a very intense version of Mary Margaret.” “That’s exactly who she is,” Elsa laughs, walking next to Emma up the stairs, which leads them to a hallway with more wood paneling and more large, paneled windows. There are no animal heads yet, though, so Killian would count that as a win. “I think she wants everything to be so perfect for me that she’s taking it overboard. Plus, she’s used to working with all of these extravagant people, so this is kind of out of her wheelhouse. You’re just lucky my cousins couldn’t come this weekend, because that would make it even worse.”

“She’s doing a great job. With this and the wedding. I mean, the wood paneling here is a little much, but this is beautiful.” “Hey, I could have helped plan this,” Killian protests.

Liam, Elsa, and Emma all laugh at him.

“What?”

“If I was a betting man, I’d say the only thing you planned was the food and the alcohol.”

“And to that,” Killian laughs, “I’d say you were right. If I had gotten my say, I would have found a place with one more bedroom so that Emma and I weren’t sleeping in bunk beds while everyone else got normal rooms.”

“I mean, technically,” Elsa says, “I think there’s another bed in David and Mary Margaret’s room, but I think you two might be safer upstairs.”

They get to the end of the hallway where the master bedroom is, and Elsa and Liam tell them that they’ll see them in a few minutes before walking inside while he and Emma turn to find the spiral staircase that leads up to the attic. It’s beautiful, but it’s not exactly convenient when carrying luggage, but he and Emma manage to get their stuff upstairs without any kind of disaster.

“Those stairs would be horrible if you’re drunk. I feel dizzy just getting up here.”

“Aye,” he sighs, dropping his bag and looking around the room.

It’s small, just a set of chairs, a dresser with a television, and then, indeed, a set of bunk beds covered in red plaid bedding. In the center of the room is a round window, and when Killian looks out it, he has a direct view of the lake and all of the surrounding hills and trees.

He imagines none of the other rooms have a view like that.

“Wow,” Emma whistles, “a view like that will almost make you think the lake is better than the beach.”

“Never,” he laughs, looking at her to his side. “I like my salt water and my sand too much to ever give it up, but it is stunning.”

“I can’t wait to get to explore it. It’s so damn nice not to be working this weekend. I haven’t had an actual, multiple-day break in months, and I’m taking full advantage of it.”

Killian nods as he keeps looking out the window. He sees two people walk out onto the deck, and he believes it’s Ruby and Mulan. It’s hard to tell from here, but then one of them walks a little further out and he recognizes Ruby’s red shirt. They must be ready to go already. He needs to change into a different pair of shoes.

Turning around, Killian moves to grab his bag only to see the last seconds of Emma pulling down a sports bra. She’s in nothing but a pair of black shorts and a white sports bra, and dammit if she doesn’t drive him mad like this.

He’s grown to know the curves of her body more intimately than he ever thought he would, and that’s how he knows that she’s been running more this summer and that places where she was once soft are the slightest bit more firm and how he knows the way her skin has changed from a creamy white to a shade or two darker, all of her freckles showing up more and more.

It’s how he knows that if that’s all she’s wearing today, he’s going to struggle holding it together in front of all of their friends.

He doesn’t know what to do when it comes to Emma any longer.

He wants her all the damn time, but his traitorous mind keeps telling him that he wants her in a way that he hasn’t had her: where there are no rules or implications or anything even closely relating to the friends with benefits situation they’ve got going on.

Where Killian can get it out of his mind that Emma kisses him in greeting now, how she intertwines their fingers, how she finds a way to touch him even when they’re not alone. It’s subconscious, he thinks. She’s not doing it on purpose, not seeking him out like she would a boyfriend, but it’s still happening.

(It matters not he is also guilty of doing the same things.)

It’s messing with his mind, with his heart, with everything.

And all he knows is that he feels like he’s betraying her because what Killian feels for Emma is far more than friendship, and he has no idea how to deal with that without mucking it up.

Especially because he can’t seem to stop being with her.

Their first rule was to keep the friendship at the center of everything, to make sure that neither of them messed it up, and the more time that passes, the more time that he thinks he’s barreling them toward disaster.

But he can’t stop.

“You gonna just keep staring at me like that?” Emma teases as she ties a jacket around her hips.

“I don’t believe I was staring.”

She chuckles and saunters toward him until she’s standing toe to toe with him. Killian glances away from her face, but that only leads his gaze toward the top of her breasts and the freckle that seems to be calling him.

Not now, not now, not now.

“Oh, you definitely were.” Emma presses up on her toes and runs her lips across his jaw. God, this is another one of the things about her that drives him mad, and he has to focus all of his attention on his breathing to keep himself from becoming too aroused. “Later,” she whispers. “I really do want to go on this hike, and I’m not going to let you distract me, Jones.” “I thought you were the one distracting me.”

“Eh, it goes both ways.”

And then she’s pulling away with this bright, kind smile on her face, and he has no idea how she can go from seductive to friendly all within the span of five minutes.

“See you downstairs. I need to get Ruby to braid my hair, so I’m going to go ahead and go.”

“She’s out on the deck with Mulan.”

Emma nods, grabs her phone, and then walks out the door.

This weekend is going to be bloody torturous.

-/-

If Killian had to guess, he would say that David and Liam have gotten them lost somewhere in the middle of the woods despite the fact that they’re all following a trail.

Or, well, supposed to be following a trail.

At one point, Anna and Elsa got distracted by this flower bush, and once they veered off the path to look at it, wondering if they could get Elsa’s florist to change her bouquet arrangement, they all started veering on and off the path, especially since there are twelve of them out here on a trail that really only allows two people to walk side by side.

If someone had brought alcohol on the hike, he imagines at least half the group would be lying dead in a ditch by now.

Honestly, Will usually has a flask on him, but as far as Killian knows, he hasn’t pulled it out yet.

Damn.

Killian ignores David and Liam arguing and keeps looking ahead. Emma and Mary Margaret are directly in front of him, now leading the group, and he tries to focus on the ground instead of the way Emma’s ass is nearly on display from the way her shorts are riding up. She hasn’t paid him much attention since they started the hike, and he’s never been so thankful to be left alone, if only for a little while.

He hasn’t been able to run all week, and this is exactly what he needed, even if the quietness of nature is cancelled out by everyone talking.

“I’m not kidding,” Ruby chuckles. “It’s awful. I mean, I get it, these are teenagers who are getting away from their parents for a little while, but do they have to make out in booths that I have to clean? There are so many places they could go, places where I don’t have to look at them while I’m trying to do my job.”

“We’ve made out in those booths.”

“That’s different, and you know it.” “Why? Because you’re the one who is getting a little action?”

“Exactly.”

“Granny’s is a fucking popular make out spot,” Will adds in. “There’s the hallway that connects to the B and B, which has seen more action than Killian has all summer.”

“Oi,” Killian scoffs, turning around to stare Will down, “mind your own bloody business.”

“Sorry, mate. I couldn’t resist.”

“You know who I keep seeing there?” Will continues. “Neal Cassidy. I know he’s dating Tamara, but damn, you’d think they could go to one of their places every once in awhile.”

Killian cringes, nearly faltering in his step, and he finally looks up to Emma, who is simply continuing to walk.

Good. That’s good.

She told him that she was over Neal, that she’s letting it go, but you don’t love someone for that long and have them break your heart and not be affected when someone is talking about them.

“Will, shut up,” Belle hisses.

“Why do I need to – oh fuck,” he mutters. “I’m sorry, Emma. Please ignore me and that bloody wanker.”

“It’s fine,” Emma shouts back, not turning around. “Neal has nothing to do with me anymore. He can do what he wants as long as I don’t have to look at him while I’m eating my onion rings.”

“I’d never make you do that,” Ruby tells her. “I’ll kick him out.”

“Can you even do that?”

“Eh, I can try.”

“Look,” David interrupts, and they all stop to stare where he’s pointing. “There’s that damn split tree. That’s where we were supposed to be going.”

“How do you even know that?” Liam grumbles.

“Because I noticed it on the way up. We’ve been here before, so it we turn that way, it should take us back to the house.”

“Can’t we use our phones to check where we are?” Killian asks only to have both Liam and David glare at him. “Okay, okay,” he backtracks, holding his hands up, “I guess we’re not using technology to make our lives easier.”

By the time they’re back at the house, Killian’s skin has been kissed by the sun, his feet ache, and his stomach is growling with hunger. He could really go for a nap, but Kris offers to cook burgers for everyone down by the lake, so everyone grabs their swimsuits and some drinks and heads down to where the grill is.

Killian settles into one of the lounge chairs that’s set up down there, a bottle of water in hand, and leans back, wondering if napping outside would be possible, but then Liam starts blaring music over some speakers and he knows the nap is never going to happen.

“Hey,” Emma says as she plops down in the chair next to him, “why do you look like you’re about to fall asleep?”

“Because I desperately want to.”

“How are you tired?”

“Because, unlike someone, I drove us up here and could not nap in the car.”

Emma shrugs and curls her legs up in the chair before taking a long sip of her water.  “You make a good point, KJ. Do you think I’d get my hand slapped away if I went and got the bag of barbecue chips off the table before all the other food was ready?”

“Depends on if the picnic table guardian is looking over it or not.” Emma laughs and leans forward, looking over at the table. “David seems to be occupied staring at the grill being all macho man with Kris. I’ll be right back.”

And then she’s jogging over to the table, slowing down right before she gets there, and then grabbing the big bag of barbecue crisps before springing back over to him and sitting back down in her seat, dropping the crisps between them. David looks over at them, and Killian swears that he sees his eyes narrow, like he knows Emma took the crisps off the table.

“Sneaky, love.”

“I try. I don’t know why he does that at any event. It’s like he gets some weird high off of making sure no one gets too food, but the worst part is definitely the fact that he watches to see if people throw any uneaten food away.”

“It is rather odd, isn’t it?”

“It’s the worst is what it is.”

She leans over between them and opens the bag, grabbing a crisp and taking what he swears is the loudest bite in existence. David is likely about to look over at them and give them hell for it. The man is going to make a great father one day.

If only because he can monitor food better than anyone else in existence.

Killian leans back in his chair and settles down into it, closing his eyes. He stretches out his arm, his hand laying against the arm of the chair, and after a few moments of relative silence, he feels Emma’s fingers tracing over his forearm in soothing patterns that have a shiver running down his spin and settling in his stomach.

It feels so natural for her to do this, for him to let her do this, and he should stop it.

But he can’t, not now.

Soon. He’ll figure it out.

Soon.

“I’ve always liked this tattoo the best.”

“Hmm?”

“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” She traces the words inked into his skin as she says them out loud. “I don’t know. I just feel like it’s so fitting to have them mixed in with your scars.”

Killian fights with himself to keep his eyes closed, to keep himself from looking into Emma’s eyes. Not a lot of people get such unfiltered access to his scars, and yet here she is in the open tracing them and talking about them and yet again making him feel like maybe they’re not too bad.

“I mean,” she continues, “I like all of your tattoos. They always make me want to get more than my buttercup, but I really like this one.”

“Aye,” he sighs, deciding that just for today, he can let everything be. This is a good moment, and he’s not going to let his mind ruin it. Instead he’ll let Emma run her fingers over his hand and let her hold onto him for a few moments. “I am fond of that one as well. I am also fond of yours, though it is rather small.”

“What? Do you want me to get a giant one?”

“You should get one that covers your entire back.” “Shut up,” Emma laughs, digging her nails into him. “I am obviously not doing that. I don’t know what I’ll do, or if I ever will. I think I’ll just stick to liking yours.”

“I like that plan. Do you think if I eat a crisp that David will hear it?”

“He hasn’t noticed me yet.” “Ah, but you have better luck than me.” “Guess you’ll have to try your luck to see.”

Killian slowly opens one eye, then the next, before moving his arm away to reach into the bag. He takes one bite, eyeing David who still has his back turned, before eating a few more. He thinks that maybe he’ll get away with it until David turns around.

“Jones, put the damn chips back on the table before I burn your food.”

“Sorry,” Emma says to him, shrugging, but he can tell that she’s not sorry at all.

“I think I’ll survive, love.”

When the food is finished cooking, everyone settles around tables and in chairs, eating and drinking and laughing. And it’s nice, a nicer time than Killian has had in awhile if he’s honest with himself. But then the night falls, crickets finding their places in the surrounding trees and a breeze wafting through the campground, causing a chill to travel down his spine as his skin pebbles with goosebumps.

There is a fire going, though, and plenty of alcohol being passed around to warm him, but really, the alcohol might not be the best idea right now, especially since Mary Margaret and Ruby tend to like to play games when they’re halfway to drunk.

Mary Margaret said something about how they needed to play a shower game. It was tradition, but Elsa and Liam hadn’t wanted that. Then Ruby stood up from the bench she was sitting on and declared that they would play Truth or Dare like the grown adults they are. They love their games, though, and, well, Ruby does know how to turn the game into something that is rather more adult than what he played when he was a lad. This is nothing new. They tend to do this at every party they have, but he never knows if it’s going to be tame or not.

So far Elsa has had to share some intimate details about the first time she slept with Liam, which Killian truly did not need to hear about, Liam has chugged down half a bottle of ketchup, Will has jumped into the lake, Mary Margaret has had to answer what the one thing she’d change about David would be, which resulted in a hushed argument, and Ruby has run to the neighboring house and asked them for condoms.

She came back with an entire box.

So, now it’s Ruby scanning the semi-circle they’re sitting in looking for her next victim, because, really, of all the people here, the last person he’d want to have pick out whatever form of torture this is would be Ruby Lucas.

His one glass of rum has not numbed him enough for this.

“Emma,” Ruby finally says, and Killian swears he hears half the group let out sighs of relief.

“I hate you,” Emma mutters, flipping Ruby off.

“Oh, no you don’t. You love me, and I’m going to be really nice to you by telling you that if you pick ‘truth,’ I’m going to ask you about the guy who gave you that hickey last week.”

Killian’s cheeks immediately heat, and he swallows, pushing the thought down. He hadn’t meant to do that. It had been an accident because they are not teenagers and don’t usually leave marks, and he didn’t even know it happened until Emma had sent him a picture the next day.

Shit.

At least Emma’s a damn good liar since it’s not like anyone is actually forcing them to do this.

It’s the spirit of it all.

“Dare, you asshole.”

There are a few whistles from around the group, and Killian already knows there are going to be a few follow-up questions to Ruby’s words later.

“I dare you to…kiss Jones. Killian, not Liam. And none of that on the cheek shit. You two have so much chemistry, and I need to see it. I feel like everyone here needs to see it.”

“Oh my God,” he hears Emma murmur next to him at the same time that he has that exact thought. The whistles increase, some hollering too, and he swears that everyone here but he, Emma, and David are drunk off their asses. “Ruby, no. Pick something else. Like, something normal that non-tipsy you would pick.” “You chose ‘dare.’”

“Because you were going to ask me something I didn’t want to talk about. I don’t want to kiss Killian.” She turns back to him and winces. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he mumbles, knowing she’s trying to save face.

“Why not? He’s super hot. I mean, I know you think he’s hot. You’ve said it before, and you guys kind of have that ‘will they, won’t they’ thing going on, which I have been saying all summer. We actually have all talked about getting a betting pool as to when you’ll finally get together, especially since you and the dumbass are no longer a thing. So, come on, it won’t be that bad. You’ve got to uphold the integrity of truth or dare.”

Emma’s lips part, and Killian knows she has a retort on her tongue. She always does.

But then she’s turning and leaning over her chair until she’s grabbing the collar of his t-shirt and pulling his mouth to hers.

Fuck.

Her lips press into his, soft and warm as they always are, but it takes him a minute to fully close his eyes and appreciate how she feels against him. Eyes are on them, whistles ringing out around the group, and Killian swears he sees flashes of camera lights as Emma sucks on his bottom lip and his hands thread into her hair, pulling her closer.

And for one, miniscule second, he forgets about the people around him and the warring thoughts he’s been fighting for weeks now, and he lets himself revel in how damn good it feels to kiss Emma Swan.

But then it’s over.

They part, gasping for breath, and Killian’s grip tightens on the back of Emma’s head as her forehead rests warmly against his.

Strangely, all he can focus on is the fact that she smells like sunscreen.

“Well, hot damn,” Ruby sighs, and Killian finally drops his hand from Emma’s hair, “I feel like I need a glass of water now. Anyone else?”

There’s a murmur of voices, but Killian ignores them, focusing on the way Emma is blinking at him with a smirk painted on her lips. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?” “No, that wasn’t bad at all.”

“Emma, it’s your turn,” Ruby reminds her. “Feel free to do your worst to me.”

“Trust me, I plan to.”

In the blink of an eye, things go back to normal. The attention is back on the game, not on him, not on Emma, and no one says anything else about the kiss.

Apparently everyone cares about it a lot less than he thought they would.

But it was all part of a game. It wasn’t real.

None of it has been.

And he has no idea how much longer he’s going to be okay with that. He also has no idea how he could make any of it real, even if Emma wanted that, because he’s got no fucking clue how to do this.

His brain doesn’t seem to be conjuring up any ideas either.

Shit.

Eventually, the game dies down, everyone quieting and forming their own circles and conversations, and while Killian tries to stay for a little while, when the opportunity to sneak out and go to bed presents itself, he takes it.

-/-

-/-

tag list: @qualitycoffeethings​ @mrtinski​ @klynn-stormz​ @scarletslippers​ @jonirobinson64​ @snowbellewells​ @therealstartraveller776​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @sherifemma​ @galadriel26​ @galaxyzxstark​ @idristardis​ @karenfrommisthaven​ @teamhook​ @spartanguard​ @searchingwardrobes​ @jamif​ @shireness-says​ @ultimiflos​ @nikkiemms​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @onepunintendid​ @bluewildcatfanatic​ @superchocovian​ @killianswannn​ @carpedzem​ @captainkillianswanjones​ @mayquita​ @mariakov81​ @jennjenn615​ @onceuponaprincessworld​ @a-faekindagirl​ @scientificapricot​ @xellewoods​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @stahlop​ @kmomof4​ @tiganasummertree​ @singersdd​ @tornadoamy​ @cluttermind​ @lfh1226-linda​ @andiirivera​ @elizabeethan​ @captain-emmajones​ @csalltheway​ @itsfabianadocarmo​

#your wonder under summer skies #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #Captain Swan

[yamithediaperdork]

Just in for my tune up (Bleach)

Just in for my tune up

Ichigo yawned loudly as he woke up in his crib. one would think that sense being labeled a helpless diaper fag slave that would mean Ichigo would get to sleep in once and awhile but one would be wrong.

Instead as the head slave he was his 'honor' to go and wake the other slaves up so he could then crawl in bed with master Renji before the new captain would have to get up for work.

Knowing that if they dragged their feet they'd cost Ichigo his much desired cuddles, some of the slaves like Toshiro tried to take their time.

A trip head first into a diaper pail did wonders to motivate the troops though and while all of the slaves where young men and boys, and they were all clad in nothing but bunny slippers and diapers, it was clear who reported to who.

As such Ichigo trusted the rest of the morning over to his lackeys and with a stern look on his face waddled back to masters bedroom, his stalking off ruined somewhat as just before he left the room a loud bubbly fart rang out from his bottom and Ichigo was heard cursing and swearing, and if one was brave enough to peek, cow boy waddling up the stairs as the back of his white diaper deformed and turned brown.

One diaper change latter (One did NOT just cuddle with the Master while smelling like sewage unless he requested it as such!)

And Ichigo was cuddling into Master Renji and mewing happily, wishing the stupid clock would break so he could enjoy this for just a bit longer.

Sadly the wants of a cock caged and hollow tube plugged diaper fag doesn't mean much in the living world, and even less here in the spirit realm.

For most diaper fags like himself the state that they were treated like would of horrified them. Ichigo on the flip side had shed tears of joy and had gotten himself outed so fast some barely recall the brief hour of adulthood he'd had before finding out how he'd be treated.

Renji smirked as he opened his eyes, the alarm hadn't gone off yet but he'd been faking his sleep so that Ichigo could get in lots of cuddles with him before he'd have to give the cute little slave the bad news.

Despite promising Ichigo that if he went for the permanent plug and cage treatment that he'd be there at every adjustment, as twice a year the cage was made smaller and the plug bigger, He'd been there for all of them but today when he was due for his last one..

"Morning cutie pie. I take it the boys are all hard at work?" Renji asked, pulling Ichigo in for a kiss and patting the slave's padded bottom. "Oh, still clean?"

Renji of course knew the boy had changed, but loved to semi torment poor Ichigo so he had made sure to add a note of disappointment to his tone.

"Ah! No! wait sir! I was good and woke up soaked and TOTALLY loaded my diapers after getting everyone ta work! I just didn't wanna stink up your bed! Please don't be upset with me!" Ichigo whimpered.

'dear god, like sandblasting a soup cracker.' Renji chuckled mentally.

"I suppose I'll let it go this time, but only because I have some bad news for you." Renji said, laying on his side now in his black silk PJ's.

Ichigo had turned on his side to face Renji, but copied his pose.

"W-what is it? do we have to get rid of one of the slaves again sir? they're getting along so well together!" Ichigo whined.

"Oh No, I don't need to give more slaves to anther captain. it's just..you know that I care for you a far deal more then I should since your just a diaper fag slave right?" Renji started.

"And don't think I don't love every second of it." Ichigo coo'ed.

"But..well..There was a last second meeting called for today at 10 am." Renji said slowly.

"But..At 955 i got in for my final adjustment..how can you be in two places at the same...time..Oh." Ichigo said, trailing off then glaring at Renji. "But you promised!"

"Ichigo.." Renji sighed, moving to pull him in for a hug.

"I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!" the slave yelled and pushed away at Renji.

Ichigo got up and huffed, grabbing a pillow and about to hit Renji with it but a look from him had Ichigo dropping the pillow and wetting himself.

"Little man, need I remind you I literally own you, so if I can't keep a promise from time to time, I'm sorry, but your just a stupid diaper fag anyways!" Renji snapped.

As soon as he said it Renji regretted it, if he had slapped Ichigo across the face he doubted the boy could of looked so stunned or hurt. he went to say something else but Ichigo slid out of bed and bowed.

"Of course Master. I'm sorry Master. I'll leave you to get dressed..Master." he said and walked out.

"..I think it would of been easier to pay the 10,000 dollar fine for missing the meeting. this isn't going away anytime soon." Renji groaned and flopped back into bed.

"Somebody should of warned me about this side of being a master."

Getting dressed Renji made his way downstairs and was greeted by each of his slaves except two.

Ichigo who was trying to finish his morning meal as fast as possible and clearly still sore at Renji, and Toshiro.

the former captain had been forced into diaper fag slavery when he was discovered dressed like a darling baby girl in the public square. he maintained that he had been drinking and didn't know what had happened but of course no one believed him.

the irony was they really should of because it was Renji himself who's set the captain up for his great downfall and had taken delight in making sure Toshiro was the prissiest of the prissy sissies he had.

Toshiro had figured it out within days but since he had no legal standing anymore there was nothing he could do about it and thus while making sure to clean and cook well enough to be allowed to stay (Bad slaves being sent to auction) he kept to himself for the most part and ignored Renji as much as possible.

'Great, this goes on with Ichigo for too much longer and I'll have a pair of ice queens.' Renji glumly thought, sipping his coffee.

"Alright everyone listen up." Renji said after he finished breakfast. "I'm going to be at a meeting till at least 2pm. Ichigo will be out getting his final adjustment done but that's no excuse for you all to slack off. Toshiro, I'm putting you in charge till Ichigo gets back. Questions, comments, concerns?" Renji asked.

"Wait, you're putting little miss frost in charge?" whined a long haired red head.

"That is what I just said. Oh and before you go to argue, keep in mind the stables need to be mucked out today. what you say next could make the difference between getting to use a shovel and wheelbarrow and a sand shovel and bucket."

"..Have a good day sir."

"Smart boy!"

With Ichigo still in just his diapers and some sneakers, he was in his car seat as Renji drove the sulking boy to the adjusters office, even though Ichigo had fussed and whined he wanted to just walk.

Looking in the rear view mirror, Renji could see Ichigo was sulking big time and after taping his figures on the steering wheel for a few minutes, spoke up.

"Ichigo about this morning.." He started to say, but Ichigo cut him off.

"oh, there's nothing to say sorry about Master. You made it clear what you really thought about me Master. I'm sorry for being a inconvenience Master." Ichigo said in a respectful voice and tone, but there was venom in it.

"Look I'm trying to say sorry here, can you cut back on the brat mode for 5 freaking minutes?" Renji asked.

"Of course ..Master." Ichigo said and smirked and despite himself, Renji smirked too.

"Look you know I care about you more then a master is suppose to for his diaper fag, right?" Renji asked.

"I mean..Yeah i know..I've seen you get teased 'bout it." Ichigo said, looking down and kicking his legs softly.

"But I keep doing it, because I do care about you. even if there wasn't the diaper fag slave law I'd of likely still kept you around in thick diapers and waiting on me, and I know you'd of enjoyed every last second of it." Renji chuckled.

"ehehehe really? so so..you like my stinky diapers?" Ichigo asked, peaking up.

"well I like you so I suppose I'll put up with your stinky bum too~" Renji said and looked back and winked.

"ehehehee yayyy!" Ichigo coo'ed and cheered and clapped his hands.

"So, are we good?" Renji asked, pulling in front of the adjustment office.

"Uh-huh! Sorry for being a butt before." Ichigo said as Renji let him out of his car seat.

one big hug to daddy later and being told he'd have to walk home, and Ichigo waved bye bye and headed inside as Renji scrambled to get to the meeting on time.

Ichigo was well know and so breezed though the reception area and was in a office, waiting on his adjuster of the day while face down, ass up on a exam table, reading a comic book he'd snagged from the reception area while he waited.

"huh, and hear I thought you didn't know HOW to read..or do you just enjoy all the pretty pictures?" asked a voice that Ichigo instantly recognized.

a look over his shoulder confirmed, the ex captain of Master daddy's squad after being involved in some sort of disgrace, Byakuya.

He wasn't in his normal fancy robes or the like, and instead wore a light green nurses suit and cap and had a cart in front of him loaded with everything he would need.

"Oh great, when did this place start hiring asshole." Ichigo said.

"Careful now, you're just a slave, I can-"

"Get yourself in shit if Renji finds out you tried to send me to a detention center. you got zero threats to make so let's get this over with." Ichigo said, having never been the guys biggest fan.

"..Cocky brat." Byakuya huffed and pushed the cart in the rest of the way and closed the door.

"At least when i fell from grace it wasn't something as shameful as this.. does your family even-" Byakuya started to ask and Ichigo cut him off.

"Master took me last Christmas to see them, they got me lots of baby toys." he said looking almost bored.

"Well..I bet your old fr-" The brunette started, determined to get Ichigo blushing and ashamed.

"All know, and those who can't handle it I don't bother to try and see. Oh and my ex girlfriend knows, rumors of it are around my old school.. Yes i bounce in my shitty diapers and suck lots of dick.. Oh, what other questions did you have to try and torment me with?" Ichigo asked, listing things off on his fingers then giving a impish grin to Byakuya.

"...I really hate you." Byakuya growled and pulled on some rubber gloves.

"Awwww, me too sweetie, me too." Ichigo chuckled and blew a kiss at Byakuya.

Byakuya was fuming as he went to work, yanking down Ichigo's slightly wet diaper and examining the lock on the fag's 2 inch wonder and the size of the tubing in him, then smirked.

'Somebody fucked up~ this is the third biggest size in and on him, not second..So when I put him in first..Ohhh hehehe, you're gonna regret pissing me off..' Byakuya thought with a evil mental chuckle.

"So, Ichigo, I've heard you bragging up how despite being a lowly diaper fag slave.. you're still rather strong and can handle pain." Byakuya said, starting to put on the solvent for the special glue that was used to hold the tube in place even when Ichigo wasn't diapered.

"heh, you know it. Ain't an ass whupping I can't take and then just say 'please daddy, may I have more?'" Ichigo said with a note of pride in his voice.

"Bullshit. I bet you just sob and whine the whole time and Renji just goes easy on your because your such a disgrace." The Ex captain taunted.

"Fuck and You." Ichigo huffed. "I can take anything without crying, unless tears are what Master daddy wants to see so NYAH!" with with that the orange haired big baby blew a raspberry at Byakuya.

"heh, you sure about that? how about a friendly little wager?"

"I'd Hardly call you a friend..but what ya got in mind?" Ichigo asked.

"I won't use the numbing meds so you'll feel everything as I do the final adjustment. if you end up crying from the pain of it, I get a blowjob from your legendarily talented mouth." Byakuya said.

the solvent had worked it's magic and Byakuya was gently tugging the large hollow plug out of the boys gaping ass.

"A-Ahhh.. And..and what if I win?" Ichigo challenged back. "I can't exactly get head from you when I'm gonna be locked up forever."

"heh, if you can hold your tears in, I'll let you spank me silly." Byakuya said, confident in the fact Ichigo would be bawling soon.

"heh, not good enough. I get to spank you THEN diaper you." Ichigo said, giggling like crazy even as his once tight hole now a massive cave of a asshole twitched and throbbed.

"I uh.." Byakuya hesitated at that. it wasn't again, like he thought Ichigo had a snow ball's chance in hell of actually beating him, but the mental image of him sobbing and sucking his thumb while this diaper fag slave pampered him brought a big blush to his cheeks, and a tent to his pants,.

"If your too chicken that's ok, you can add the numbing cream." Ichigo chuckled and made a few clucking noises before going to go back to his comic book.

"nggg deal!" Byakuya said, huffing and angry.

between the why boner and his honor being insulted he wasn't going to stand for it anymore.

"heh Ok, but no take backies~" Ichigo purred and looked over his shoulder winking.

for a second, Byakuya had the sinking feeling that rather then Ichigo walking into his trap..he'd just walked into Ichigo's.

Ichigo smirked, it was just SO easy with some guys to turn their ego against them. even daddy could be played like that if Ichigo wanted to keep it up all the time. but the big baby found it was easier and more fun to wear down on a daddy over the long term and get them wrapped around your little finger then going with short term trickery.

Buttt every now and there there was a guy who just needed to be tricked into pampers and clearly this was the case here.

Ichigo felt kinda, funny without his plug in him. while with the first one it had been horribly invasive now it was a soothing comfort though out the day and he was missing it big time.

It was also weird as he sat up and spread his legs, having the cock cage removed, without it on the air in the room seemed almost chilly to Ichigo's once might cock.

when he'd started all of this he'd had a 8 inch rod of fuck meat but now with careful training he had all of two inches, and it couldn't even get hard anymore though he could still cum.

"Ready for your final cage? the locking WILL be permanent so if you wanted to tug on your little worm a few times before it goes on, I'll let you." Byakuya said smirking.

Ichigo raised a eyebrow at that, such kindness wasn't like Byakuya, so they had to be a trick here. Still, it wasn't like he was ever gonna get a shot at this again and he nodded, reach down with a finger and thumb.

and then wince and drew his hand away FAST as the sensations were way too much for Ichigo and he was gasping and panting.

"H-Holy shit.. that was..was.."

"Yeah, normally your weenie is coated in numbing cream, but not this time and it hasn't felt your touch in QUITE some time~" Byakuya laughed then went on. "Even if I did give you permission to jerk off, you wouldn't be able to enjoy it, you'd over load."

"So..so by taking your bet.." Ichigo whimpered and glared.

"You lost out on your ONE right as a diaper fag, one last wank before permanent chastity. I know, ain't I a stinker?"

"...I'm gonna enjoy making you waddle around in massive diapers." Ichigo huffed.

"Huh? hey the deal was-" Byakuya started to say but got cut off.

"that i could diaper you. not put one diaper on, or two, just i diaper you, which implies as I see fit." Ichigo said and smirked even as his dicklet bounced and throbbed.

"..Oh shit." Byakuya whimpered, for the first time super worried.

being in massive diapers and around this place? if he was seen he'd be on the slave block before supper.

Threat made Ichigo made use of a ice cube to get his dickie to shrink down and relax, though he was rocking back and forth and blowing air out in hisses as he did so. Still, he kept from crying which was the important thing.

the cage looked WAY smaller then Ichigo would of expected but he laid on his back and covered his face with a pillow as Byakuya went to put it on, so he wouldn't have to watch.

"ah ah ah, no cheating and hiding your tears." Byakuya scolded and tugged the pillow away. "If you don't wanna watch just close your eyes."

Ichigo huffed but shut his eyes tight and whimpered as Byakuya started to force the 1/4 a inch cage onto Ichigo's soft member, Making Ichigo yelp and cry out but his eyes stayed dry the whole time and then with a click the lock was sealed, and Ichigo's cock would NEVER be freed again.

Of course while all the other cages had had a cleaning Kido inside of them to make sure he didn't get crotch rot, this one had a much stronger version since the only way to remove it now would be to well, castrate Ichigo.

"I'm Impressed, dry eyes still!" Byakuya chuckled and gave a mock clap. "Of course I didn't expect you to really break down sobbing just from having your useless nub that was once fuck meat caged. it'll be when THIS goes in." and he paused and held up the LARGE hollow plug for Ichigo to get a good look at it.

The shear size of it would put Renji to shame and Ichigo almost wondered if Renji's cock might of fit in the tubing as he reached out and ran a hand over it.

"Jesus titty fucking Christ! That's the last size?! what happened to a gradual build up!?" He whimpered, gulping hard.

"heh, Yup, and you're gonna look SO cute trying to adjust to it with my cock down your throat. now assume the position and get ready to bawl." Byakuya chuckled, taking the plug back and lubing it up.

"U-Uh Byakuya.. Let's say I go ahead and concede defeat now..and Promise to still blow you..can..can you give me the numbing med before putting that in?" Ichigo mewed, slowly moving back to face down ass up.

the fear and worry in his voice is what did it, and Byakuya while he wanted to make the brat suffer, was just too damn nice in his old age.

"Finnne. but this better be one HELL of a fucking blow job!" Byakuya grumbled, making it sound like he had all the problems in the world.

"Oh that's one thing that was never in doubt. I'm the best cock sucker there is." Ichigo said with a note of pride in his voice. "Master daddy Has entered me in competitions and everything! I-"

"Blew them all away, to pardon the pun?" Byakuya asked and snorted at his own bad pun.

"Man, and I thought my diapers stunk.."

with the numbing gel applied and a injection to further dull Ichigo's ass (they weren't worried about destroying any bowel control for well, obvious reasons) Byakuya placed a firm had on Ichigo's lower back to help keep his still and then gently pressed the tip of the monster sized anal invader to Ichigo's boi cunt.

"Fast and hard or slow an easy?" Byakuya asked, planning on doing the reverse of what ever the big baby fag wanted.

"ah..ah..fuckkkk~" Ichigo mewed, just the tip was in him and despite the drugs he could feel it and he was starting to leak cock drool despite the cage. "S-Slow and easy please." he moaned, wanting to draw this out and enjoy it.

Byakuya smirked, and like he had planed, went with fast and hard and rammed the plug in all at once, making Ichigo cried out 'GOO GOO GAGA!' as he shot out a load from his caged dicklet then collapsed on the examination bed, eyes glazed over and tongue hanging out.. Little chibi sissy baby Toshiro's dancing around his head from his POV.

"..I think I broke him." Byakuya said with a sweat drop, then shrugged and started to get to work making sure the plug would stay in for the rest of Ichigo's life, with how long one's soul could last in the soul society was going to be a long, long, time.

The process of making it permanent was done in steps that Ichigo likely hadn't of even noticed, the very same lube that had helped the beast slid in had also doubled as a adhesive once some Kido was channeled though it. adding onto that Byakuya was squirting in extra adhesive around the edges after tugging the beast back out a little, then pushed the monster back in and activated his Kido.

With the orange haired faggot locked and plugged for life, Byakuya rolling him over on his back and while Ichigo was still recovering from his orgasm, got him thickly diapered in 6 terrycloth diapers and a pair of plastic pants that Renji had dropped off at the center when he'd made this appointment.

"ah..ah ba what?" Ichigo coo'ed, blinking rapid and sitting up, wiggling his fat diapered bottom.

"welcome back to the land of the living. I was worried I was gonna have to send you home by taxi and drop by for my BJ later." Byakuya said with a sneer.

"ah shit..I did agree to that didn't I?" Ichigo whined.

"Yup yup~ so get down on your knees and make it snappy, I got anther diaper fag to seal in like 10 minutes." Byakuya said and then fished out his 6 inch dong and stroked it a few times.

"heh, If I'm right about you, that's 8 minutes and 40 seconds more then I'll need. You like like a quick shot." Ichigo said, but he was a fag of his word and got on his knees, shuddering softly as the plug shifting and pressed on him.

the feeling made Ichigo let out a soft moan and lean into Byakuya's crotch and then eagerly take the semi impressive member into his mouth.

Of course Ichigo was used to Renji and others thick and longer cocks but considering just how worked up he was still this was just what the doctor ordered and if he shut his eyes and blocked it out, he could pretend it was someone he didn't think was a total fucktard.

"Oh F-Fuck!" Byakuya gasped, ruining the illusion and griping onto Ichigo's head. "Y-Your mouth..it's fucking amazing!" The ex Captain squealed, little stars in his eyes.

'heh, yup, and your never getting anther BJ from me again unless Renji approves it..and he hates you more then I do.' Ichigo chuckled mentally, knowing he was forever ruining head for the fucktard.

using his triple swirl touage lashing move, Ichigo brought Byakuya to a orgasm in under a minute and swallowed the brunettes rather weak load with ease and pulled off.

"Man, don't jerk off so often if your gonna be feeding cock suckers, we prefer a thick and creamy load." Ichigo scolded.

"I...I'll keep that in mind.." Byakuya moaned softly, falling onto his ass, pants still down and his now soft 4 inch cock still leaking out left over jizz as Ichigo got up and smirked.

"Thanks for the snack, and try and get yourself together, you don't wanna be caught like this and end up pampered right?" Ichigo asked and then laughed as Byakuya's cock twitched and shot out a second weak and small load. "Then again.." was all he said and then left.

Feeling super happy with himself even if he was walking a little funny, trying to get used the the plug, Ichigo started to make his way home whistling softly and waving at people.

he was of course well know as Captain Renji's diaper fag slave and as such people should of known that messing with him was a bad idea but even in a well run place like the soul society there was a couple of bad egg's.

Case and point two hoods were currently in a Ally and scanning the crowd looking for a good target to kidnap and ransom.

they were both in blue jeans and dirty beat up stained white top, and had shoulder length black hair and were almost identical save for the fact one had a beard while the other was clean shaven.

"So, what cha think, any good targets?" beard asked.

"Nah, Just a bunch of normal folk..the rich ain't out shopping t'day..Waittt..Hold the phone.." non beard said, and took out a specialized mini scope and focused it on Ichigo, who had stopped and was talking to a street vendor selling fruits. "This one has promise.. according to the scans he belongs to a high ranking captain."

"Wait, Ichigo? man, even I know who he belongs too..you sure you wanna risk getting on the bad side of Renji?"

"he's a well known softy, he always favors paying ransom's and not hurting the kidnappers because it encourages them not to hurt the hostage.All we'll have to worry about is changing diapers." non beard said and handed over the scope to beard.

"Ngggh.. not reading much for a spirit energy..I suppose this cou-" beard was cut off as while he was scanning Ichigo, he turned and looked right at them despite the crowd being in the way and then seemed to vanish.

Suddenly there was a force on the back of both of the would be kidnappers heads and they found themselves on the ground and being kept there by one hand each.

"You know, it's rude to stare AND talk about people behind their backs right?" Ichigo asked, smirking.

"H-How did you?" Beard asked, struggling.

"You didn't have a reading even close to suggesting you can do this!" non beard yelped.

"Oh that.. Master daddy got me a special device that let's me hid my spirit energy so I can take out would be kidnappers like you. Plus it helps me not only be the bestest cock sucking diaper fag slave ever, but a damn good body guard." Ichigo chuckled, Placing a knee on each of their back's after turning around, facing their butts. "Now, I'm not gonna turn you in to the cops because they'll just beat you or worse, but you gotta understand I can't just let you two off without some form of punishment right?"

"W-What are you gonna do to use?" No beard asked, twisting his head and seeing the massive diaper butt closer then he'd like by his head.

"Please don't sit on our heads!" Beard pleaded.

"..Oh I didn't even think of That! I'm just gonna yank your undies up so hard you're gonna be tasting them for a month."

"..That's..better?" No beard said.

"I'm glad you agree, but your consent isn't really a deciding factor here." Ichigo said and then grabbed a waist band in either hand.

the screams that came out of the ally were only matched by the site second later as the two would be kidnappers ran out with the back of their undies over their foreheads.

The rest of the walk home after that was uneventful, though Ichigo had to laugh when he got back home.

Toshiro had apparently let his minor role of power in the absence of Renji or Ichigo go to his head as he was lounging on a sofa and sipping from a glass of ice cold grape juice that was being held by a slave while anther one was fanning him with a big leaf and a third was holding up a book for him and turning the pages for him as he gave the signal.

"Are we having fun?" Ichigo asked, snicking slightly.

the effect was instant with Toshiro sitting up and blushing and looking at the other slave's and glaring.

"I told you baka's to warn me when Ichigo was coming back!" he growled.

"And YOU know better then to lord your position like this. " Ichigo said. "They're not the ones who are in deep doo doo Toshiro, you are."

"I..I am?" Toshiro squeaked, the back of his pretty pink diapers balloon out and drooping as he paled.

"...Nah I'm just fucking with ya. everyone let's it go to their head the first time. Do it again though and I WILL tell Renji. and don't even THINK about trying to punish the others. Now finish up your pooping, then go and help finish mucking out the stables."

"..Yes sir." Toshiro grumbled.

The rest of the afternoon passed without incident, and while Ichigo was worried when Master wasn't home by dusk,he knew how long these things could take.

Stepping up he made sure al the slaves got their daily baths in and were in clean clothes, and got a belly full of food before sending them to their quarters for the night to just relax and have fun while he waited on Master daddy.

as the hours went by Ichigo got the feeling Renji had been roped into going out to the bar after with the other captain's and knew Renji couldn't turn down the offer without getting more teasing about how he preferred the company of cute boys who crapped their pants over adults, so he didn't fault Renji for going, but he vowed to himself he'd stay up as late as needed to make sure to greet his loving master daddy when he got home.

So naturally he was conked out and asleep on the couch by 10 pm.

Renji yawned as he made his way into his house. it was 1 in the morning and he had to admit, once he'd gotten the others to shut the fuck up about his boi's he'd actually had some fun with them. He hadn't had as much to drink as the others since these days he tended to get hung over rather easy and he hated how scared and worried his slaves got when he was sick.

Making his way into the living room he was greeted by a familiar smell and looked over to see Ichigo asleep on the couch with his thumb in his mouth and a small blanket covering his chest and a shit swelled diaper around his hips.

'Heh, must of tried to stay up for me..Maybe I should of called home.' Renji thought with a smile.

Despite what Ichigo might think, Renji didn't actually mind the smell of a stinky diaper (he'd hardly of filled his mansion with a bunch of diaper pooping fag's if he had) and so he came over and gently scooped up Ichigo in his arms, cradling the little stinker to his chest and headed for the bedroom.

"Ngggh..Hiii daddy.." Ichigo said, half waking up and coo'ing softly.

"Hey stinker. having a good sleep?"

"Uh-huh." Ichigo said and nodded his head.

"well thats good. you can just go back to sleep sweetie. Daddies gonna tuck us into his bed."

"Oh..Otay." Ichigo coo'ed and just snuggled into Renji's chest, closing his cute eyes and drifting back off.

Yeah, being a captain and owning so many slaves could be a head ache at times, but there wasn't one thing about any of this that Renji would ever change.

The end

[lambourngb]

he’s got a smart mouth but a good heart - Michael Guerin

It’s Day 2, celebrating characters, and much to my own surprise, at the end of season 2, Michael Guerin decided to move into my brain and take up residence. Obviously I still love Alex Manes (He lives first and foremost in my brain since 1x08), but there was something about how Michael buried his own pain about his mother to help everyone in season two that rang pretty true to my own life right now. I didn’t always like what he was doing in season 2 but I understood it.

Anyway, when I find a story that celebrates how complicated he is, I cheer and rejoice- so here’s a few of the stories that I have gone back to again and again.

Truck stop knives and other assessors of childhood @angsty-aliens (13,200) I can’t lie, I love a good trope story, and I especially love a good sci-fi trope story, so this story hits all of my buttons. It takes our two science nerds, Liz and Michael, mucking around, and accidentally creating a version of Michael- but not just any version, but the child who hitchhiked to Fosters ranch, completely over humans and desperate to find his family. The kid who was feral from neglect and abuse... he was the cutest thing and the most mortifying thing that ever happened to Michael to be displayed and shown. This story takes the de-aged trope and turns it on its head, and oh yeah, there’s a sweet backdrop to Michael and Alex getting together.

Implicit Memories of You by @ninswhimsy (3464) - So this is an amnesia story canon-divergent story set after 2x11 basically, where they use the mind erasing drug on Michael. I know, I’m reccing this about Michael characterization, but it’s so solidly him after all the memories are stripped away and he’s acting on instincts, locked in a room to torture Alex with before death. There’s so much going on in so few words, something that Nin is a master at, especially the ephemeral remembrances of his mother that Michael has- oof right in the feels.

Maybe this time (he’ll stay) by @hannah-writes​ (7700) This is a sequel to one of my favorite stories I recced last year, dealing in alternative timelines where in one world, Michael is lost and alone and has pushed Alex away, and in another world where Alex came home from Iraq in a flagged draped coffin. It answers the question, what about Mikey? Where’s his happy ending? The confirmation of the multiverse means there’s an Alex out there who needs him- and through trial and error, Michael finds him. The world building in both stories is top notch, because for every action, there’s a reaction and reason shaping Michael.

Constant as the northern star by celzmccelz (53,000) - don’t know the tumblr here - This is an Mpreg, and it starts solidly after 1x13 and goes AU from there. But what if in the 100 mile drive home from Caulfield, Michael and Alex share a grief-induced moment of insanity where they fall back into their oldest language- sex for comfort, and then Michael does everything he does in the finale, including turning toward Maria, what if there was a souvenir? Despite the trope of mpreg, this is just how I see Michael, deeply in love with Alex but unable to trust that Alex feels the same depth in return. The friendships in here are also top-notch, from Kyle being a baby-doctor, to Isobel having her own Max-related spiral unable to let go of her brother only to refocus on Michael, to Liz fucking off with Rosa for the first half of the story because she’s caught up in her own grief (which turned out to be canon!). And there’s a whole plot here! With Jesse Manes being the worst.

Leave the light on by @sabrinachill​ (36,900) - Confession time- I love fake dating as a trope, I know, shocked right? But I especially love it with RNM because Malex are exes by 1x03. Mattie nailed the dynamic of pining and the assumption of unrequited love so well in this story. Although the POV switches here a bit between chapters, (and Alex is fabulous) what I really really loved was how she wrote Michael, in love but convinced that he’s messed up too much for Alex. Aware of his faults but not in a sullen way, but an acknowledgment that he was in a bad place and Alex hasn’t always been the best remedy him in the past. It was a very mature take on the “give me another chance” trope in Malex reunion stories, where both sides had a share of blame. The plot was suspenseful and tight (how do people do that???) with a climax that honestly shocked me! I really enjoyed rereading it while I prepped my rec-sets, and I won’t be surprised if this story isn’t mentioned by everyone doing ‘Creators Week’. It’s worthy of all the love.

Temporary wounds by @prouvaireafterdark​ (7800) - How many times can I rec this story? Hopefully you’re not bored by my adoration of this Lynne.  So even though it’s set post-season 1 with the assumption that Michael/Maria will fizzle out while Alex/Forrest date- it’s actually perfectly set for season 3 (an author who is psychic??). As a rule, I hate jealousy as a trope, but this story has the only type of jealousy I want to see on screen- where Michael wonders what was missing inside of him that Alex didn’t want to be public during their long affair (even with the acknowledgment that Alex was too scared before)- like that type of sad pining is my catnip!

The first who ever did by nostalijinks (33,000) post season 1, but really it also stands pretty well after season 2.  There was an interview during season 1 I think that talked about how all Michael really wanted was to be a hero to Alex (the way he stepped in front of Jesse as a kid)  but he thinks he failed at it since Alex enlisted. That failure soured him in ways but he never stops trying, for Alex. This is a really well done 5 times plus 1 story, with an overreaching arc of reconciliation between Alex and Michael, starting as teenagers, then as adults while Michael is with Maria, then as friends, real friends, trying to support Alex as Alex dates. The whole emotional journey of maturity that Michael takes here is so well done, where there’s no real villains in the friend group. I just love it. I wish the author had written 100 more like this one, but as a standalone work it’s epic.

The person that you’d take a bullet for is behind the trigger by @iwontbeyourmedicine​ (25,000) Ly has a very large body of work, that you could spend days paging through on AO3 or tumblr, but this one hits two of my kinks hard- the amnesia story line and true love conquers all. So three fandoms ago I was huge into Steve/Bucky, that iconic moment in Cap 2 where Bucky breaks through the brainwashing has never left me. This story takes my love for that moment, and makes it Malex. Alex gets programmed by his family and set loose on his friends, on the aliens and it’s a shitshow bloodbath since he’s really fucking good at kicking ass. Michael is caught between keeping everyone safe and trying not to hurt Alex, and the tension is just top-notch. I love how it’s not an immediate fix either, the way they circle each other in the aftermath, wanting to come home, but home would be a totally new step for both of them. Just chef’s kiss good at joining action, angst, and romance together.

Into the palm of your hand by @haloud​ (5900) hal is a treasured friend, so I am admitting some bias here, but we both enjoy talking about how wonderful and sad Michael is and how desperately we enjoy poking at that softness and then wrapping him up with love again... so this story was written pre-shamegate (and if you know what that means, I’m sorry) but it matches my head canon of what the history of hiding does to someone. The internalization of believing maybe there’s a reason behind the hiding that has nothing to do with homophobic townies. Alex has an ex boyfriend come to town, and he doesn’t tell Michael. And omg the journey hal takes us on with Michael’s spiral and Brave Little Toaster act was so wonderful and painful and real. The communication between these two was top notch as they worked through a road bump from the past, and let’s face it, once we get our malex back, these things are going to happen, and it will either tear them apart or bring them closer together- I prefer to believe it will be closer together.

There is beauty in a failure by @jule1122​ (2400) There’s been a few Greg and Michael stories to pop up on my radar after 2x10, and this one was one of my favorites. This is a Greg who pulls no punches in exposing his brother’s past to Michael, but also gives Michael the space to work through what he wants. It’s an AU from 2x12, that allowed Michael to break up with Maria for basically the same reasons that Maria used on him in 2x13. The way Michael is able to what he wants and communicate it Alex in the end- so good! We can only hope to see something similar in season 3.

I don’t know what to think (but I think of supernovas) by @queersirius​ (3900) This story is a delight from start to finish- I mean frustrated cursing turns the console on into a hologram who then takes the most pleasing form to Michael’s eyes? SIGN ME UP for those shenanigans. I fucking loved how Isobel saw it first too. And then the comedy of Alex discovering it? And what happens afterwards? Oh it’s so delicious. Now of course, full disclosure, this light-hearted romp through the feels also inspired me  to think up a much much sadder version of Michael building an AI for companionship considering how isolated he ended up being at the end of Season 2 and we all know Michael needs friends, badly.

Innuendo by the Roswell anon (6000) written for @bisexualalienblast​  the roswell anon is my favorite treasure in this fandom, I could pretty much list all of their stories as examples of some very fine Michael Guerin characterization. This one was one of my favorite post-season 1 fix-it fics though, because it has some of the most real 28-30 year old guy dialogue I’ve come across- from the crude jokes, to the sharply self-deprecating observations- this is Alex and Michael stripped down, all edges but what’s left is fatigue and love. The resolution at the end, where Alex observes that yes, Michael has tried the last 10 years but this is their first chance to try together- to pull in the same direction? It just lays me flat on the ground with how true that is to canon.

Whenever You Want to Begin, Begin by @foramomentonly (3200) - this is a sequel, and the first story is dynamite- don’t get me wrong- but it moves from the hopeful side of an ending to legit Happily-Ever-After here, and I devoured every word. First of all, having Michael turn to photography as a way of self-improvement is fucking genius. Photographers are always at the center of every happy event, but never the focus, and that screams Michael to me, the way he lives on the outskirts of the 9-5 job and literal outskirts of town in his trailer. The other thing is photographers are revealed by their work, and that’s also something I head-canon with Michael just in the mundane- he’s good with his hands, he wants to leave a car better than he found. Anyway, this story is gorgeously written, moves a bit like a really good bottle of wine- heavy but soft, as you watch Michael become Alex’s friend, and even more importantly, Alex becomes Michael’s friend. Fantastic- I’ve read it about four times now since it was published.

#rnmcreate2020 #malex fic #malex fic rec #MALEX FEELS #michael guerin #alex manes #fandom positivity #worship our great authors in this fandom #will this show up in the tags? #probably not with my luck

[coraxaviary]

Momentary Warmth

SKIP MUCK   X   READER

Preface: Notes at end.

Summary: Deep in the snowed-in forests of Bois Jacques, you are trapped in the network of trees and ice. Refuge is found in the form of foxholes.

Word Count: 4.0K

Warnings: None.

Taglist: @keoghans​​ @papercinders​​ @junojelli​​ @notmykirk (ask to be added; please notify me if you prefer to be taken off the x reader taglist)

.

It’s gray and blue in the blurry sky and cold as a tundra, and another icy blast whiffs off the top of your foxhole – almost over your head but not quite, catching you in the face. You bury yourself in your single scarf, but it isn’t enough and you just let the icy crystals wash over your face like tiny beads of fire. There isn’t energy left to spare to worry about these things. You let them come and the days blend together – just a chain of days, punctuated only slightly by gunshots and blood and raining hellfire.

If the snow is fire, Easy Company has been incinerated thoroughly every day. It piles everywhere, drifting as you sleep; anyone who uses a tarp – or who can get their hands on one – is buried by daybreak.

Maybe it’s not a break of dawn, you think sleepily, as you sit in a half-frozen state of hibernation, drifting between consciousness and the black dreamworld behind your eyelids. Dawn barely breaks anymore – it’s just a white-hot sputter through the towering fog, the blasted hell of a fog that prevents any air support or artillery cover.

The sun leaks in a uniquely watery way through the particles in the air – it’s refracted a little in the snow, and you’d almost call it beautiful if you weren’t shivering at the bottom of a frozen dirt ditch, hesitant to stomp your feet for fear that they will break at the joints and shatter inside your boots.

You know better. You’ve been one of the lucky few to avoid trench foot or frostbite, for whatever reason God knows, and your feet are fine. It just feels like your blood has congealed into a solid mass inside your body, and you can almost visualize a feathery red and blue network of ice meandering through your veins and arteries. One move, and it’ll all shatter.

You take in a large lungful of sharp-edged air and let it out, barely avoiding driving yourself into a coughing fit because of the sting that makes its way deep inside your lungs. There is white steam that plumes out of your mouth and nose, and you think that today you woke up fine – lucky not to have turned into a block of ice overnight. Just another day. Miserable to be alive.

At least you are alive, and it’s what counts when there are a lot of people – good people – who no longer have the privilege to feel cold, feel anything, because they are not alive anymore.

Skip is still asleep beside you, curled up below the blanket, legs folded against the shallow edge of the hastily-dug foxhole. He’s warm against your side, but not warm enough to stave off the reaching freeze of Bois Jacques. You shiver and pull the blanket slightly, knowing that it is futile but still fiddling with the edge anyway. It’s small motions like this that used to remind you of home, when the concept of warmth was immediate and accessible; when blankets weren’t luxuries and maybe a little thicker, not olive green and frozen stiff.

He’s breathing quietly, small huffs of breath coming out in vapor with each exhale. The blankets are bunched up below his chin, and his nose is redder than before. You smile momentarily, because he looks like he’s at peace, at least in dreams.

Someone ambles by sluggishly in the filtering light. You let go of whatever sleep you were hoping to catch the tail end of – there’s no falling back asleep in this white brightness of day – and decide to get out of the hole, laboriously and slowly. You don’t want to wake Skip, but you have to take a piss anyway, so you bite the bullet, grit your teeth, and try to crawl out of the hole without letting a pile of snow underneath the wool.

You claw your way up the slope, and you watch a clod of frozen powder break off the lip of the hole and slide down into the pit. You scrabble faster, muttering a shittin’ hell, and haul yourself out of the pit.

Skip mutters something and shifts. It might be a where ya goin’ or something. You take a guilty look, conclude that he still has a small chance at regaining unconsciousness if you don’t respond, and trudge off in the creaking, crunching powder to find a suitably private place.

“Hey, hey,” says a voice, none too patient, and accompanying heavy boot treads make their way through the snow towards you. You’re still redoing the buttons on your uniform with shaking fingers, and it’s your third try with the top one. You turn your head, and Guarnere is materializing out of the white mist.

“Y’always walk in on a girl when she’s pissin’?” you ask sharply, finally snapping the closure closed. Guarnere seems to belatedly notice where exactly your hands are and what you are doing with your pants.

“Shit, sorry,” he says, and he spins around quickly, but you’re already done. You walk past him in the direction of the back of the camp, ready to try and bargain for some K-rations that are possibly less shitty than the ones in your pocket, heaving your rifle back up onto your shoulder.

“Hey,” Guarnere tries again. You look back, helmet strap striking your cheek as you turn, and you barely wince, just blink a few times and wait for Guarnere to catch up with that funny affected walk. It looks kind of uncomfortable, maybe painful even, and you tell yourself once more that he did this to himself. “Ya see Doc today?”

“No,” you say, almost addressing him with his nickname to lighten the mood, but then considering that indeed it would be a bit on-the-nose. You clear your throat scratchily. “Bill.”

“Pissin’ is hell,” he says.

You nod. “Sure is, Sarge.”

He looks at you with a screwed-up face. “Go to hell.”

“You too, Sergeant,” you say, flashing a brief sardonic smile, and you both break into the clearing where medics are offloading something from one of the trucks you see ever so often. The red of their patches and the crosses emblazoned so brightly on some of the crates is a stark contrast to the pale, stalky forest. You both stop for a minute to watch the life as it congregates around the truck, and then it’s over and the truck roars away and you’re left staring at a few boxes, two milling medics, and the blue-washed impressions in the snow where medics stepped around the supplies, leaving trails of footprints in the fresh powder layer.

You stomp at the ground, trying for the tenth time to work some more liquid blood into your toes. Maybe there’s about half a foot more snow here than yesterday night when you drifted off, but you’re not sure because it all blends together.

No one’s measuring the snowfall. There’s no radio to announce it to, no folks in a warm house to listen to the announcer. There’s just shallow foxholes, flying splinters, deafening blasts, and long held breaths of quiet. It wouldn’t make sense to announce the snow levels to Easy, anyway. You sleep in the snow. You’d just have to measure how much is piled on top of a tarp when it caves in on you in the middle of the nebulous night.

A clump of snow slides off the branches of a tree, and falls to the ground with a muffled thump. You jump slightly at the sound, and eye the tree. It’s laden with a load of icy snow, and you wonder how it even held that much anyway, and Guarnere is equally as quiet, watching another clump make its way slowly down a branch.

You defocus and catch a glimpse of pale white skin and an echo of a deep voice. It’s Roe, you know already, because you’ve memorized his bunny-hop gait and chicken-wing silhouette, hands shoved in his jacket pockets.

“It’s Roe,” you say, pointing.

“Damn, good eyes,” Guarnere says, following your finger with his line of sight.

“It’s the chicken wings,” you say.

“Chicken– ?” he starts, but Roe is going to walk in the other direction. “Hey, hey Doc,” Guarnere calls, hobbling after Roe. You think that maybe it’s just the way he walks in the cold, and convince yourself that he’s not in that much pain, because it makes you feel better about leaving Guarnere to rant to Roe by himself.

+

“Hey, got you something,” Skip calls when he sees you weave through the gray-trunked trees that border the Easy territory of Bois Jacques, if you can even call it a territory if Krauts can walk in and out without realizing.

Skip brandishes a wrapped package, stepping past Penkala and Buck. The men are gathered around a vat of beans. It’s steaming hot, and you go directly for the food, but whatever Skip has stops you in your tracks.

“Chocolate?” you say with growing disbelief. “Thought we didn’t have no more.”

“Got it from a Dog guy,” says Skip, and you stop in front of him, pulling one hand out of your pocket to make a grab at the chocolate. “Nuh-uh,” says Skip, pulling it away and holding it behind him. You don’t really want to exert any more energy when movement leeches heat to the cold air anyway, so you stop and just hold your hand out, palm up, in expectation.

He looks at you and cracks that smile – a lotta lip, not much tooth – and you have to smile too.

“Gotta give me something for it,” he says.

“Like what?” you say, already fishing in your pocket for a spare few cigarettes. You only have a precious three, but you pinch one between your fingers inside the flap. You look up at him again, and he cocks an eyebrow. You roll your eyes. Fine. Two, just for Skip. You bring them out and reach for his uniform, flipping open his chest pocket flap and dropping them in before he can see that you gave him more than one. He’d probably whine at you to take one back, even though you know he wants it. You will deal with that later.

You pat the pocket with an air of finality. “Gimme the chocolate,” you say, wiggling your fingers, and he drops the full bar – a full bar – into your hands. You bring it to your nose, sniffing deeply, and you close your eyes in momentary bliss.

“Is that chocolate?” says someone from nearby, and you open your eyes again tiredly. Liebgott is standing a few paces away, and he’s closing in quickly. “Whoah, Hershey,” squeaks Liebgott in reverential awe. You shove it into a pocket, shushing him. Liebgott is already opening his mouth to ask, and you shake your head no preemptively.

“Aw, c’mon,” he intones.

You exchange a look with Skip. Skip is shaking his head, but you give in. “Come see me tonight,” you say. Liebgott’s eyes take on a brighter shine. “But,” you say, waving a finger. “No friends.”

“No friends,” he repeats rote, apparently still shocked at his fortune and your show of goodwill, and he goes back to whatever he was doing with Perconte. Behind you, you can hear Skip slapping his own forehead, and the whack almost echoes.

“Careful, Skip,” yells Penkala from three trees away. “Don’t wanna alert the Jerries.”

There is laughter, and you can pretend things are right with the world when everyone is smiling, if only for a few seconds. Skip’s forehead is getting redder than usual, and you reach up to rub at it.

“Stop, mom,” says Skip, pushing your hand away, but he’s still got that quirk to the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t call me mom,” you say, partially out of habit, and partially with a feeling of awkwardness. Skip never really calls you mom, and you wonder why he took it up, too. “Lipton is mom, and there can’t be two moms.”

“Okay, he’s mom and you’re dad,” says Malarkey, snorting. He presses his canteen into Penkala’s hands to double over and laugh without spilling. You frown, watching him crumple at his own joke.

“Nah, I’m just your aunt with ten cats,” you say. “Real dad is Buck.”

Buck sputters and there’s another round of laughs. You feel a half bit lighter, bringing levity to the company, even though Buck goes back to being empty-eyed a little too fast, Roe is missing, and Winters and Nixon are down somewhere else at HQ.

And you get in line for the last of the beans.

+

Later, huddled in your hole, you wonder why you so disliked Skip calling you mom. It wasn’t that it was offensive – it bothered you because Skip never was one for the names, but particularly with you. Why would he start now? you wonder.

“Got any extra syrettes?” asks Roe’s voice, coming towards your foxhole. It’s the second time he’s been around today, and you turn around stiffly as best you can, craning your neck out the top of the hole.

“Nah, y’already asked, Doc.”

Roe sniffs and sighs, and you know there’s a special kind of pain reserved for this man in particular. You feel bad for turning him away. He shakes his head in annoyance, and almost leaves before turning back around.

“Know where Heffron is?”

“Babe?” you say. “I haven’t got a goddamn clue.”

“Alright, thanks,” Roe mutters mildly, and he disappears into the clinging mist, trudging miserably with snow landing on the top of his helmet and dusting his shoulders.

“Who was that?” says a voice, and then Skip slides into the foxhole, none too gracefully, landing on top of your legs and partially in your lap. You shove him off, and he goes sprawling into the other half of the foxhole, trapped in the gap between you and the wall. “Okay, okay, I’m movin’,” he says, and somehow he manages to right himself and shove his ass into the gap.

He sighs out a breath, and it goes up in steam.

“Know where Babe is?” you ask absently, mostly just to break the silence in the air.

“The replacement? Red hair?” asked Skip. “No.”

“Thought so,” you say in response, burrowing farther under the blanket. You watch the snow falling to the ground – little specks of crystal drifting in and out of the waning light, piling in drifts and falling into your newly carved foxhole, right on top of Skip’s shoulders. He’s shaking from the cold, and you’re somehow not, so you lean in closer in an attempt to share body heat.

It’s futile, because the scathingly icy wind steals body heat with frightening efficiency. But you lean in anyway, and Skip scoots farther into the hole.

Your thoughts go back to the mom thing.

“Hey, Skip,” you say.

“Hmm?” He’s digging around in his pocket for a light, and he’s holding one of your newly bestowed cigarettes in his lips. There’s no comment about the other cigarette, so he either gave the extra to someone else or is deciding not to make a fuss. You get out your lighter and flick the wheel a couple of times, finally getting a flame and holding it to the cigarette. He breathes in and then exhales a cloud of smoke; you shake the top back over the lighter and put it away. He sighs.

“You really think of me as a mom?”

Skip raises his eyebrows, taking another pull at the cigarette. “I mean…” He looks at you – not a small glance. He really looks at you, eyes moving over your face as he lets smoke out of his nose. “Depends.”

“On what?” you say, shifting around to get out the chocolate, moving stiffly and elbowing Skip in the side. He takes it silently and just presses himself into the side of the dirt wall to give you more space, and you grab ahold of the chocolate, bring it out, and hold it to your nose. It’s a large D-ration bar, and there’s nothing like it in the entire company. If there was, all the other men would have sniffed it out and eaten it already.

You move to break up the top row of squares, and they crack with a soft, satisfying feel, the plastic outer packaging crinkling loudly. You turn your head the short distance it takes to look Skip in the eye, and he’s about to say something, but there’s a rustle in the snow. You drop the chocolate in your lap and fumble for your M-1, and Skip tenses up, raising his rifle.

As if summoned, Liebgott skids around to the top of your foxhole, and both of you sigh and lower your rifles.

“Whoah, take it easy,” says Liebgott, raising both hands. “Just here for the Hershey’s.”

“It’s D-ration, not Hershey’s,” you say, ramming the gun into its previous spot beside you in the hole, wondering how it fit within the gently curving dirt walls in the first place. “Besides, Hershey’s aint the best.”

Liebgott snorts, but his eyes are on the bar. You give him one of the precious squares, and instead of eating it, he puts it carefully into his pocket.

“You’re gonna melt it into your ODs,” you say incredulously.

Liebgott delivers one of those scrappy winks, patting at the flap. “Not in this cold.”

Skip makes a face. He looks slightly upset, but he’s trying not to show it. “Don’t waste it,” he says quietly, and Liebgott scampers away into the dark. You sigh, and Skip does too, looking at the chocolate. With one square gone, the bar is substantially depleted.

“Bastogne made a saver outta Joe, even,” says Skip. “He never used to save stuff.”

“I’d just eat it,” you say. “Never know when you’re not gonna be around to enjoy things anymore. All that shelling.”

Skip gives you a concerned look, but you wonder why, considering that mortality is now casual within the company. Perhaps it’s the fatalistic tone, so you shrug it off.

You really want to know about the mom thing, but it would be too obvious if you brought it up again. Skip seems to have forgotten about it, so you take a square of chocolate, hold it between your teeth, and put the rest away. When you can dedicate your complete and utter focus to the chocolate, only then do you put it in your mouth, and you lean back with your eyes closed, savoring the uncommon sweetness.

When you open your eyes again, Skip is staring at you, and you rub at your mouth self-consciously. “I got something on my face?” you ask, and Skip is jerked out of whatever he was thinking, and he sits back, smoking the cigarette. “Ya want a square?” you offer, already moving to dig the chocolate out again.

“No, no,” says Skip, shaking his head. “Don’t mind me.”

“Why you gotta stare like that, then?” you say playfully, knocking into his shoulder with yours. “It’s not, uh... “ you search for the right word, a word you haven’t used for a long, long time. “Gentlemanly.”

Skip can do nothing but snort. “Gentlemanly.”

“Yeah.” You smile for a second.

“Nothing ‘bout this place is proper,” he says around the cigarette. He’s mastered the balance of holding it between his lips and also talking at the same time. “If I wanted to be a gentleman I’d ask you to dinner, proper like.”

You’re laughing before, but at his statement, you stop and search his face. “Really?”

“Really what?” He’s still smiling, and he dumps the remainder of the cigarette outside the foxhole on his side, brushing a handful of show on top and shaking the rest of the cold powder off his hand.

“You’d take me on a date?”

Skip stops and blinks, blowing the last bit of smoke out his mouth. He turns away, and then looks at the sky before looking down at the blankets and your boots against the other side of the hole. “Damn, I really said that out loud, huh.”

“Yeah, Sarge,” you say, slightly awkwardly. “Ya did.”

“Sorry,” says Skip, bringing a hand above the blanket to rub at his face, not meeting your eyes. ‘Didn’t mean to make it… like that.”

“Like what?” you dig. You won’t let this go this time – there were too many times like this where you think you can see a small glimmer of something, but then it disappears and Skip runs away to hide with the mortar crew, or something. There’s no running now, when you’re both assigned to this foxhole, and he’s quite literally glued to your side.

“Unprofessional.”

It’s your turn to snort this time, snaking an arm between your bodies to jab a finger in his side. He emits a small sound and knocks into your arm with his shoulder.

“When have we ever been professional?” you say with a small sliver of hope.

“Right,” says Skip, unconvinced.

There’s a pause of silence, and the only sound is breathing and the strange ambiance of snow. It makes a small sound, subtle, but you can’t really describe it. You decide that you don’t really like to listen to it anyway.

“I’d go on a date with you,” you say in a rush.

There’s silence and you don’t look into his eyes, and instead you look, unfocused into the trees, cursing yourself silently for saying something so sudden. You hope your friendship with Skip hasn’t dissolved completely – would he think you were being too forward? Too much? The doubts came back in a rush, and all you can do is breathe one stinging breath at a time, watching the disappearing points of the tops of the thin, barren trees brush the plane of the blackening sky. You can’t look to your left, where Skip is, crammed close, arm to arm and leg to leg. You consider breaking the awkwardness by just getting out of the foxhole and taking a walk in the lightless air of suspended ice. You make an aborted move to begin to claw your way out of the hole, and Skip’s hand goes across your waist, holding you back from reaching for the edge.

You look at him, and he smiles – he smiles and all the insecurity washes away, replaced with wonder. You sink back into the foxhole.

“Stop frownin’ like that,” said Skip.

“ ‘M bein’ unprofessional,” you say briefly with only the beginnings of an unsteady smile. Skip rolls his eyes. His arm travels up to your collar, and he pulls you in by the jacket.

You take a measured breath of air, the slightest bit warmer – heated by Skip’s proximity – and lean in.

Your helmets crack against each other. You both wince and sit back, and you laugh a few huffs of relief, releasing more clouds of water vapor against the shadow of the night.

“You should take off your helmet,” says Skip with the smile – the one you love. It takes you a few more moments to get it off, partially because your fingers are half-frozen, but also because you pause to consider just how much you think about his smile.

It’s distracting, and by the time you drop your helmet in your lap, he’s already kissing you with cold lips but it’s alright because it’s Skip.

It’s a little warmer that night, though not by much. Once again, the Germans decide not to shell you to pieces.

And for that time, you are happy to be alive, in this particular foxhole, with an excuse to have Skip pressed against you with no room to spare. You are alive, and Skip is alive, and you are grateful to be here to experience these things, at least in the small moment of relative comfort.

.

Note: Sorry to ruin the tone, but I just have to say that I researched STDs for half an hour to try to figure out what Guarnere had (assuming it was an STD). The things I do for fics, geez

#band of brothers #band of brothers fic #band of brothers imagine #skip muck #skip muck x reader #band of brothers x reader #hbo war #writing

[quickspinner]

Triple Threat

Here it is, the 500 followers special, posted hot off the presses as promised because not only did I hit 500 followers before the poll even closed, I’m now at 520! My mind is blown. Thank you all for sticking around this little corner of the lukanette trash heap and especially for all your replies/comments/reblogs, I covet every single one. 

So you guys voted and you wanted to see Multimouse flirting with Viperion, and Marinette flirting with Viperion was a very close runner up, so I decided to do both, and I threw in a little Viperbug flirting for you just because I love you. So I hope you enjoy, and extra love to @livrever for giving me a sanity check when I needed it because y’all, I love you so much I wrote an akuma for you and even though most of the battle happened off-screen I still wasn’t sure whether the whole thing would hang together or not. 

I hate long author’s notes and this one is already wordy, but I just want to say again, thank you for being here and I appreciate all 520 of you that are here now and everyone who stumbles on this in the future. 

“Stupid Chat,” Ladybug muttered to herself between swings. “Stupid, overprotective Chat, making everything more complicated than it needs to be because of this stupid identity bullshit again and why am I still keeping up this ridiculousness now that Master Fu’s gone I have no idea…” 

She ought to be grateful, she knew. Later, she would be touched by Chat’s affection and protectiveness towards her civilian self, but right now it was just a pain in her red-and-black spotted ass. Fortunately, the akuma knew her name but not much else about her, which meant Chat was able to fool it into following him on a wild goose chase to buy Ladybug time to get help that they didn’t actually need but whatever. 

But it was fine. This was fine. She had a plan. In the three years that she’d been Ladybug she’d gotten very good at thinking on her feet. She tried not to call on Viperion too often, because it seemed like a bad idea to muck around with time too much, but the fact was, his power was both incredibly useful and incredibly reassuring for her. 

And, either because Luka was older or perhaps because he was simply more mature than the rest of the team, he’d been the first to push his powers past his original time limit, and he still had the longest time limit on the team, though he wasn’t anywhere near the unlimited time that supposedly came with being “an adult.” Marinette had questioned Tikki about that, whether it was a question of physical maturity or mental maturity or both, but it turned out that questioning a being as old as Tikki about the minutiae of human growth was...frustrating. Tikki’s concept of time was colored by her nearly-eternal perspective, and the markers of adulthood changed and shifted over the centuries.

In any case, second chances were all too scarce in her life and it was only the knowledge that all magic had a price and the fear that there had to be a catch somewhere kept her from calling on it more frequently. 

Seeing the Captain and Juleka both on deck, Ladybug crouched on the bank and squinted. It looked like Juleka and Luka’s room was empty, so she should be able to just slip through the porthole if she timed it right.  

Well, regardless of whatever method the Miraculous used to measure adultness, Marinette thought as she made her way through the porthole with some Miraculous-aided acrobatics, Luka had matured in the three years they’d known each other both mentally, and...and physically...oh dear. Ladybug gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth, which did absolutely nothing to salvage the situation, since her eyes were still wide and staring.

Luka was standing in the doorway in his boxers, hair dripping into the towel around his shoulders, a faint blush growing on his face. “Ladybug. I wasn’t expecting you. Obviously.” 

Ladybug yelped and turned her back, this time slapping her hands over her eyes, though too late to do either of them any good. “I’m sorry!” Ladybug cried. “I just—your family was on  deck and I didn’t want anyone to see me coming in and the room was empty so I thought I could just—but I didn’t expect you to—“‘

“It’s fine,” Luka chuckled weakly, and she could hear him moving around behind her. “Nothing you wouldn’t see at the beach. Living in a house full of girls I don’t actually make it a practice to run around naked. You can look now.” 

“Good. Sound policy,” Ladybug managed, like she wasn’t dying of embarrassment. She dropped her hands and turned around and then bit the inside of her cheek to keep in another scream. He had his jeans on now but he was still digging through a pile of shirts on the end of his bed and she was staring at his bare back. Which wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before, really, but only when she was prepared and had Alya to smack her if she started...staring. Not ogling. Definitely not. 

“I’m assuming you need me for something?” he prompted, glancing over his shoulder. 

“Yes! Uh…” Ladybug shook herself back to reality and outlined the situation. How there had been a big design contest this week and one of the losers was taking it badly and had it out for the winner, a girl named—

“Marinette?” Luka turned to look at her sharply, now fully clothed (which, it turned out, helped less than it should have since knowing what he looked like under the shirt made her more than able to trace the lines his body made in it NOT THAT SHE WAS OH GOD) “Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

“Ah, yes,” Ladybug said, surprised enough to be shocked out of her absolutely-not-ogling. “You, um...know her?” 

“Yes, of course I do. If Marinette’s in trouble, I’ll do anything you need,” Luka declared, a fire in his eyes that almost made her step back. Ladybug paused and studied him for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Can you do this, Luka?” Ladybug asked, folding her arms. “The last thing I need is to suddenly be facing an akumatized Viperion with time reset powers. I know you guys are friends but if you’re more than that I need to know now.” What was she doing? It was a good thing she was still blushing from earlier. Why was she asking this, she knew he was over her, she was like a little sister to him and—wait, was he blushing? 

Luka looked away, but she was sure she saw red in his face. “We’re just friends,” he said softly. “Even if I sometimes wish we were more.” He glanced at her, and his blush deepened as he dropped his eyes again. “Maybe more than sometimes. I can do this, Ladybug. I won’t let my feelings for Marinette interfere. I promise.” He gave a lopsided smile. “I’ve gotten pretty good at keeping a lid on it.” 

“Oh,” Ladybug blinked. “I see.” She...wasn’t as surprised as she should be. Luka had never really made a secret of his feelings, but even if she hadn’t quite believed herself every time she told herself he was over her, she hadn’t expected him to be so...passionate about it. Especially after all this time. Especially after everything that had happened. “Well—well okay, if you think you can do this then I trust you.” She held out the box. 

Luka took the bracelet, greeted Sass briefly and transformed as Ladybug continued her instructions.

“I wanted to just hide Marinette but Chat thinks she needs more protection. He’s distracting the akuma now. You pick Marinette up at her home and keep her with you. Obviously, you’ll use Second Chance to keep her safe, but it might also take a few tries for Rena to get the illusion right, so you’ll also need to be in position to observe and report.” She couldn’t help a smile, feeling a rush of affection as the familiar green eyes blinked back at her. “I trust your judgement, so I’m not going to micromanage you; figure out what works and do it. Here’s the catch, though.” She folded her arms. “I won’t be there. I can’t explain to you why. Once the akuma’s focus is off Marinette, take her home, and proceed to Phase Two.” She continued giving him instructions and he listened attentively, asking only a few questions. 

Luka nodded as she finished. “I won’t let you down,” he said firmly. 

“You never have,” Ladybug smiled, and Luka looked...flattered? Almost shy. And that was kind of weird. Luka was reserved, sure, but never shy.

People did seem to find Ladybug intimidating, though. And it was kind of...cute. “You know,” she found herself saying as she strolled closer to him. “I think this Marinette girl’s awfully lucky to have caught your eye. I’m sure she’ll appreciate your help. I know I do.” Ladybug gave him a slow smile. She reached up and touched his mask with two fingers. Viperion’s eyes widened slightly. “I think I prefer blue eyes to green though.” 

“Me too,” he said almost absently, searching her face, and she thought she saw a hint of color just below the line of his mask. That made her smile wider. 

“It’s a bit of a complicated plan today, but I think you can handle it. Good luck.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek, and before Luka could react, she dove out of the porthole, yo-yo catching just in time to send her skimming away above the water. 

Luka—Viperion, now—swallowed hard, swaying slightly in place. Because it was a plain fact that Ladybug was hot, as well as strong, smart as a whip, and tough as nails. All things that very much appealed to him, even if his heart was still given elsewhere, and he...didn’t quite know what to do with the last few minutes.

Viperion shook himself. He had more important things to worry about. 

...Starting with how to leave the boat without being seen by his family. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Ladybug had caught him off guard this morning, and between having just woken up and running into Ladybug in his underwear—not to mention whatever that was just now—he was feeling a little off balance. It should have occurred to him to wait until he was off the boat to transform. 

Well, he’d figure something out. It sounded like his job was simple enough. He wasn’t super happy about having Marinette actually at the battle site, but he could see Chat’s point; it was the only way they knew she was absolutely protected and the akuma couldn’t pull a double-fake on them to come back for her. It had happened before. Hanging back with him, Marinette would be as protected as possible, out of sight of the villain to keep her from accidentally interfering with Rena’s illusion, with Second Chance as a backup if something went wrong.

Somehow, he just had to try and not be too Luka around Marinette. Best to keep things chill and aloof if he could, he supposed. 

Viperion could see her on her balcony as he approached, that would help. His last leap took him soaring in a flip to land on her balcony railing with a bit more show than was probably necessary. 

“Marinette?” he smiled. “Nice to meet you. Ladybug told you to expect me, I hope?”

“Wow,” Marinette breathed, blinking up at him. “She said she was sending someone but not who. You’re...you’re Viperion, right?” Her big blue eyes were round in her face. “You’re like—the most mysterious of all the heroes. You’re hardly ever on the Ladyblog.” 

“Not mysterious, just...quiet,” Viperion smiled with a shrug, feeling a little warm suddenly beneath his mask as he hopped off the rail. “I’m not really a front line fighter like Chat. I do my best work behind the scenes.”  

“Really? But you’re so strong—” Marinette’s eyes traveled down his body, rather blatantly checking him out. “Wow,” she breathed. “I thought the suit was just armored, but that’s actually you.” 

Viperion shifted a little uncomfortably under her gaze. Not that he minded, just...it was Marinette and she’d never looked at him like that before and...he kinda liked it.

Okay, he really liked it. 

But Ladybug was counting on him to be professional. 

Viperion cleared his throat. “Did Ladybug brief you on the plan?” 

Marinette nodded, still studying him though her expression turned serious. “Yes. I’m supposed to stick to you like glue and follow any orders you give.”

Viperion nodded. “We’ll be out of the main battle so you shouldn’t be in any danger, but that last part is really important. You’re a smart girl though so I’m not worried.” Much. He offered her a hand. “We should go so we’re in place before Chat gets there.” 

Marinette met his eyes and—shit, there went his traitor heart, suddenly galloping a mile a minute. Help me out here, Sass, he thought desperately, but his pulse continued to pound as Marinette put her hand in his and smiled up at him. Shyly, but also...mischievously? Her lips twitched just slightly, like they wanted to twist in a smirk, and crap why was he even looking at her lips, look away, Luka. 

If she smirked at him now he’d never be able to keep his cool. 

Taking a deep breath and hoping against hope that he wasn’t blushing too obviously, he tugged her closer to him and dropped her hand to put his on her back. “May I?” he asked, and when she nodded he lifted Marinette in his arms and settled her close against him, making sure he had a firm grip. She put one arm around his neck but ran her other hand across his chest, firm enough for him to feel the pressure even through the suit. His breath caught as she exclaimed “Cool! The material’s so different from Chat’s. Neat texture.” Her tone turned flirtatious. “Fits you really well too.” 

“Ah—” He couldn’t think.  

“Sorry,” she said, glancing up at him and looking not sorry at all. “I’m a fashion designer. You’re—inspiring.” She used the arm around his neck to pull herself up to look in his face, and he had to adjust his grip quickly. “I have to tell you I love your mask.” And there was the smirk, even more devastating at close range as she ran her fingertips along the bottom of his mask. 

Viperion felt dizzy as she settled back again with a cheerful, “Ready when you are!” 

***

She wouldn’t stop touching him. Tracing the lines of his suit where the different materials met, outlining the yellow diamond on his chest with one finger, not-so-subtly feeling up his arm…

Chill and aloof was obviously not going to be an option, he admitted to himself. He needed a new plan.

When her fingers traced his collar, actually brushed his skin at the hollow of his throat, he stumbled and nearly dropped her, landing hard on his knees.

“Are you okay?” she gasped, snatching her hand back guiltily. 

“I’m fine.” Viperion sighed and set her down, getting to his feet and brushing off his knees before turning to face her, trying to figure out how to say what he needed to say without hurting her feelings. 

He thought he understood what was going on. Marinette was always under a huge amount of stress. Pretty as she was, she didn’t get out much, and probably didn’t get to do a lot of flirting. She wouldn’t flirt with him—Luka him—because she knew he had feelings for her and she worried about leading him on. She couldn’t flirt with Adrien, partly because he was dating her friend and largely because she could still barely speak a coherent word to him.

As Viperion, he was a safe option. Marinette spent too much time lonely and sad. As far as she was concerned, she’d only just met Viperion, and when the mission was over he would disappear. She didn’t have to follow through on anything she said to him. Nothing she did raised any expectations. She didn’t have to worry about leading him on or breaking his heart. The situation must be frustrating for her. She was a doer. Being a spectator at best and a victim at worst in this situation, it made total sense that she would need something else to think about and focus on, a chance to blow off a little steam without consequences. 

And honestly, Luka was fine with indulging her. It fed his ego that she found him attractive enough to flirt with, even tease, but more importantly, if he could make Marinette happy, he wanted to. If he could make her feel pretty and valued and wanted, like the attractive young woman she was but never seemed to have time to be, then he wanted to, even if he had to wear a mask.

There was just one little problem. 

“Marinette,” he said, as gently as he could, “I get that you’re interested in the suit and I’m more happy to let you look at it, but first I’d like to get us where we’re going without faceplanting us both into the pavement, okay?”

“Right,” Marinette said, looking horrified and completely embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I should have known better, if course you’re a professional and I’m being horrible, aren’t I, making you uncomfortable when you’re just trying to do your job—“

Well, that wouldn’t do. He placed two fingers over her lips.

“Don’t be sorry,” he told her when she stopped talking, and chucked her under the chin gently. “I don’t mind you touching me at all. In fact—“ he leaned into her space, just a little. “I like it. Certainly worse things than having a hot girl put her hands on me, even if it’s just for the suit.” He gave her an appreciative look and a wink and had the satisfaction of seeing her blush. “I just don’t want you to be hurt. Ladybug’s counting on me to keep you safe after all.”

He could see instantly that it was the wrong thing to say, though he couldn’t fathom why. The color creeping up her face drained away and her smile turned plastic.

“Right,” Marinette said cheerfully, but the sound was hollow. “Wouldn’t want to let Ladybug down.” 

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Vierion repeated, putting his hand on her shoulder, all playfulness gone as he hunched slightly to look into her face. “Ever, but definitely not on my watch. Marinette, it would kill me if anything happened to you because I was distracted. And you can be…” He gave her a lopsided grin and a quick up and down look. “Very distracting.” 

She hunched her shoulders slightly, blushing, in a way that took him back to another time when he’d felt the urgent need to tell her how important she was. “I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said warmly, squeezing her shoulder before letting go. “You can check out the suit as much as you want when we get where we’re going.”  

“Right,” she breathed as he picked her up again. She put her arms around his neck and tucked her head down, pressing her eyes against his neck. “Because it was totally all about the suit.” 

Viperion chuckled. “You can check me out too if you want, I don’t mind.” 

He cradled her a little tighter as he ran, aware his heart was pounding from more than the run.

***

“There you go, Marinette. We made it.” Viperion let her feet drop, keeping his arm around her back. Marinette slid down his body until her feet touched the ground, her arms still around his neck. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Rena Rouge,” he added, gesturing at the hero in question. “Rena, Marinette.” 

“Hi,” Marinette said, sliding around to his side as she hunched her shoulders and waved with an awkward smile. “Um, sorry about all the trouble here.”

“It’s not your fault, Marinette,” Viperion said warmly, squeezing her against his side before Rena could even speak. 

Rena was looking at them with raised eyebrows. “You two are certainly...friendly,” she commented. 

“Are we?” Viperion said, lips twitching with the effort not to laugh as he looked down at Marinette still pressed against his side. “Sorry if I’m being too familiar,” he told her insincerely. She covered a giggle herself as he continued, “It’s just, well.” He gave Marinette a sly grin and a wink. “Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng is a bit of a mouthful.”

She looked up at him with a wicked twinkle in her pretty eyes. “I think you could handle it.”

He had to look away for just a moment before he could keep a straight face as he told her in a low voice, “I’d certainly try if you wanted me to.” Marinette giggled again behind her hand. 

Rena’s eyebrows looked likely to shoot off her head entirely. “Well, it certainly seems like there’s something going on here that I missed.” 

“You didn’t miss anything,” Viperion shrugged as Marinette unplastered herself from his side and wrapped her hands around his bicep instead. 

Probably fortunately, Chat showed up right then and ran through the plan again. Marinette continued clinging to Viperion’s arm throughout the briefing, which got looks from both Rena and Chat, but Viperion’s face remained impassive. 

“Don’t get distracted,” Chat warned him before leaping away. 

Marinette snorted softly. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Viperion coughed to cover an embarrassed laugh. 

“Looks like it’s just you and me now,” he remarked. 

Marinette perked up a little bit, squeezing his arm. “Do you work out? Or is it just part of being a hero? Do magic muscles come with the suit?”

Viperion laughed as he reached back for his lyre and shook his earpiece out of its compartment. “A little more strength, yeah, but no extra magic muscles. Let’s just say I lead an active lifestyle.”

“One that includes a lot of time in the sun,” Marinette giggled, reaching up to touch his cheek. “You’re pretty tanned. You definitely didn’t get that from being a hero.”

“Kind of hard to sunbathe in the suit,” Viperion agreed, running a finger along the edge of his mask. “Leaves awkward tan lines.” 

Marinette buried her face in his shoulder to muffle her laugh. “So the tan goes all the way down then?” she asked, when she could. 

Viperion smirked at her. “Yep. All the way.”  Marinette turned red and sputtered, and he looked away, grinning as he slipped his earpiece into place. Went a little further than you meant to, didn’t you? he thought with amusement. Too bad for you Couffaines have no shame. “Chat, Rena, do you read me?” 

“Loud and clear.”

“Gotcha, Scales.”

“Let me know when you’re in position,” he said, and then movement caught his eye. 

“Akuma,” he said urgently, growing serious at once. He put his arm out to move Marinette behind him, and felt her hands on his back as she moved close. “Here we go,” he said grimly. “Second Chance.” He slid the snake head back and touched his communicator. “Chat, Rena, she’s here. Checkpoint set. Round one.” 

Marinette’s hands moved over his back and down to his sides, and he sucked in a breath as they slid up the smoother texture of the darker panels on his side. “This part is kind of like Chat’s suit,” she murmured. “But this part must be armored,” she ran her hands forward over the ridged teal armor over his belly. 

Dear God, what had he gotten himself into?

She must have noticed his tension. “You said I could touch you,” she reminded him.

He had to swallow before he could answer. “I did.” 

“Did you change your mind?” 

Luka closed his eyes for a moment. He’d always known she was attracted to him but it wasn’t a thought he normally allowed himself to indulge in much. It just made knowing she didn’t actually want him worse. If he wanted to back out, now was the time. “No,” he said finally. “It’s okay.” 

Viperion drew back slightly as the akuma passed by below them. He felt Marinette peek over his shoulder.

“Oh, she’s scary,” Marinette whispered, and pressed her face into the back of his neck. “You’re sure you can’t see us?” 

He turned his head toward her for just a moment and leaned it on hers. “It’s fine, we’re out of sight. Don’t be scared, we’re all here to protect you.”

“I know,” she said softly. “I’m not scared if I’m with you.”

He had to shift his position to cover the shiver that sent through him. The akuma was past them now and Rena was casting her illusion. 

She ran her fingers through the tips of his hair at the nape of his neck. “Your hair’s so soft. Guess a Miraculous dye job will do that, huh?”

Oh, that felt amazing, but Viperion could see the akuma shriek and begin to flee. “Second Chance,” he breathed. A flash of white, and then he gave his debrief over the comm so that Rena could adjust her illusion. Then Marinette’s hands were sliding up his sides again.

It took nine resets before Rena got her illusion refined enough to fool the Akuma into thinking she’d gotten her revenge on Marinette and for Chat to successfully lure her away. Nine times he recounted the battle over the comms and suggested changes.

Nine times he’d steadfastly kept his attention on the akuma while he let Marinette run her hands over his sides, up his belly and chest. Nine times he felt her press her face to the back of his neck and rest her cheek on his back while she toyed with his hair. He knew every line of her teasing by heart. His own varied, partially depending on his own sense of whether he was going to have to reset again. The only reason he hadn’t just given in and kissed her (or tackled her to the floor, if he was honest) was the combined knowledge that his friends were still in harm's way and that Sass would give him a lecture about the responsibilities that came with time powers. 

He was maybe wound a little bit tight by the time he took her home. 

“Well,” he said, setting her down on her balcony. “Here we are, beautiful. Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” she asked, not unhooking her arms from around his neck. 

“I’ve never enjoyed an akuma battle so much,” he told her, voice low, one hand sliding onto her hip while the other gripped the railing behind him in a desperate attempt to ground himself before he did something stupid. “Whoever catches your heart will be one lucky guy.”

“Thanks for being my hero today,” she smiled up at him through her lashes, a pretty pink tinting her cheeks the only warning he got that she was about to wreck him again. “I think a kiss is the traditional reward?”

“I don’t hold with those kinds of traditions,” he said a little roughly, hand tightening on the rail behind him. “But if you want to kiss me, I’m not about to say no.”

“If I do, are you going to kiss me back?” she asked, and though her tone was teasing her eyes were anxious. 

Viperion hummed thoughtfully, the hand on her hip sliding around to press into her lower back, pulling her closer. “I guess that’s just a chance you’ll have to take. If you decide you want to.”

“I want to,” she breathed, and he bent down until his forehead touched hers, eyes on hers the whole time. He felt her breath hitch and closed his eyes, waiting, as always, for her to choose, and trying to pretend his heart wasn’t racing just at the thought.

Her fingertips touched his cheek, hesitating, and then her palm fitted itself to the curve. It occurred to him to be glad he’d had time to shave before Ladybug showed up. He did kiss her back and she grew more confident, pressing into him, and the next thing he knew her hands were in his hair and her tongue was in his mouth and he made an extremely unheroic noise even as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her up into him. 

Viperion’s bracelet beeped and he felt Marinette sigh as she pulled back from him. “That means you have to go, right?” 

“I, um,” he blinked as she began to back away from him and his hands slid from her back to her arms, and then to her hands, which softly squeezed before letting go completely. 

“Please be safe, Viperion,” she said, her brow creasing as she undoubtedly remembered that he still had an akuma to defeat. Viperion swallowed and shook his head quickly, mustering a Chat-worthy grin that was entirely fake.

“Don’t worry,” he winked. “That Akuma’s not even close to being the most dangerous thing I’ve been around today. I’ll be fine. Go inside now and stay there until Ladybug does her thing, okay?” Viperion turned away quickly, pulling in a deep breath before he vaulted over the balcony railing.

***

His bracelet beeped a final warning about three rooftops later. He quickly found a place in the shadow of the building’s roof entry hutch and put his back against the wall. His transformation released and he met Sass’s highly amused eyes before he put his hands on his face and slid to the ground with a muffled whine. 

Sass’s hissing laughter was deeply unhelpful.

“Sass,” Luka said from behind his hands. “What the hell was that?”

“At a guess,” Sass replied, smirking—Luka didn’t have to look at him to know it—“Hormonesss.”

Luka slid his hands down to glare at Sass over his fingers. “That’s your input? Ladybug and Marinette both decide to try and make me combust today and the best you’ve got is hormones?”

Sass laughed at him again and Luka groaned. 

“What do you wissssh me to sssay?” the kwami chuckled. “I have myssself heard Ladybug refer to Viperion as a ‘ssssnack.’ I don’t sssee any reason Marinette should think differently. Unless I mistake the meaning of the word in this contexsst, that should be ssssufficient anssswer.” He flicked his tail. “Ssssspeaking of which.”

Luka groaned. “I could have lived without knowing that, thanks.” He pulled the little baggie full of chopped hardboiled egg out of his pocket and tossed it to the kwami without even looking. “Eat fast, we have to go meet Ladybug’s other contact.” 

Sass just chuckled and pulled the bag open. 

***

She didn’t have a lot of time, she was on a schedule, but Marinette couldn’t resist throwing herself on her bed and squealing into her pillow. Then she rolled over onto her back. “I can’t believe I did all that,” she gasped, fingers flying to her lips “What’s wrong with me?”

Tikki floated nearby, giggling. “You like Luka, Marinette, you know you do. I think you just felt a little bit bolder knowing he was wearing the mask.” She flew close and poked Marinette’s cheek. “Was it everything you thought it would be.” 

Tikki zipped back quickly as Marinette pulled her pillow back over her red face and squealed into it again. She never thought she would be bold enough to do such things, but...but it felt good. And Luka...he’d been thrown at first, clearly, but then he’d rolled with it, because Luka was super good at rolling with things, even, apparently, if those things included her touching him and teasing him and flirting and trading innuendo she never could have spoken to his unmasked face. 

Would it...be like that? If it wasn’t Marinette and Viperion, but Marinette and Luka, and they were in a relationship, is that...is that how it would feel? Not awkward and embarrassing, but...fun and teasing and exciting. Was that how it felt when you liked someone who liked you back? Would he look at her like that every day with those soft eyes, and talk to her in that warm, low voice, and stand with his arm around her, pulling her close into his side, and...and let her kiss him like that...or maybe kiss her like— 

She felt Tikki land on her head and pat her hair. “Come on Marinette! You’d better get ready for the next part. You don’t want to keep Viperion waiting,” she finished in a singsong. 

“Right,” Marinette sighed. She got off her bed and pulled the Miracle Box out from under it. As soon as it opened, she picked up the mouse Miraculous and weighed it thoughtfully in her hand. It had been a couple of years since Multimouse’s last appearance. Surely she was safe to try it again. Mylène had done a great job with it but she was out of the country on one of her eco projects for the moment, so it was up to Marinette.

Not that she minded the chance to work with Viperion a little longer. Not that she minded at all.

Marinette put on the necklace and smiled at Mullo, eyes sparkling. Moments later, she was leaping off her balcony in the familiar pink and grey suit, on her way to meet Viperion, her heart beating with anticipation. 

***

Viperion was leaning against a wall, idly strumming his lyre and daydreaming about Marinette, when his mission partner hit the roof and rolled to her feet. It took him a moment to totally focus on her but when he did it took all of his natural stoicism to keep his jaw from dropping.

That...was not the mouse he expected.

Holy shit.

Until today, Luka would have denied that he had a type, but God. Clearly he was weak for tiny blue-eyed dynamos with dark hair. He’d never seen eyes that could kill like that except on Marinette. Her suit was fitted like Ladybug’s rather than padded and armored like his or Chat’s or Carpace’s, or flared like Rena’s. While all the boys had gotten used to seeing, or avoiding seeing, Ladybug’s curves in the suit, Viperion suddenly realized that the red and black spotted pattern did a much better job of distracting from the more subtle lines of her body, and the new mouse’s light grey suit...did not.

She cleared her throat, and he realized that he was staring at her abs and straightened off the wall, tucking his lyre away.

“Sorry, I was expecting someone else,” he said as smoothly as he could, offering his hand. “Viperion.” 

“Nice to meet you,” she said brightly, shaking his hand and then planting one hand on her cocked hip and saluting with the other. “I’m afraid your regularly scheduled mouse couldn’t be here today, so I’m Multimouse, at your service.” She winked one big blue eye and Viperion’s knees went weak.

He decided he was taking a very long, very cold shower when he got home. Assuming he survived. The universe really had it in for him today. 

Well it’s a hell of a way to go, he thought to himself, taking a steadying breath.

“Happy to work with you,” Viperion smiled. “I’m sure Ladybug briefed you on the plan, any questions?” 

“Plenty,” she grinned with another devastating wink. “But we’re supposed to be working.” 

Viperion folded his arms and smirked despite the heat he felt in his face. “I’m almost afraid to ask if there’s anything I should know.” 

“Just follow my lead, handsome,” she grinned, turning away as she unlooped her jump rope belt with an entirely unnecessary swing of her hips. “Think you can do that?” 

Oh, Mousey was a flirt. He grinned. “I’ll certainly enjoy trying,” he murmured, quiet enough that she could ignore it if she chose.

Instead Multimouse looked back at him over her shoulder with a mischievous smile. “I know you’ve had a long day already, so just let me know if you get tired.”

Viperion chuckled. “I think I’m getting my second wind,” he winked. “By all means, after you.” 

“Catch me if you can, handsome!” Multimouse swung from the building and Viperion took a running leap after her.

Multimouse led him to a warehouse, and after he smashed the lock, they slipped inside. It was deserted and Chat was supposed to be keeping the akuma occupied and after his ring, but there was no harm in being cautious. “You’re a handy partner to have,” Multimouse said, looping one arm through his. “This plan shouldn’t be difficult at all.”

“Ladybug did the hard work,” Viperion commented. “I’m just the muscle today. Have to hand it to her, she’s got a mind like a steel trap.”

“Ooh, watch your phrasing,” Multimouse winced, swinging her hip into him. “Remember your company, handsome.” 

“Sorry,” Viperion chuckled. “You’re right, poor choice of words.” 

“If you’re nice for the rest of the mission maybe I’ll let you make it up to me,” Multimouse teased, fingers curling around his bicep. “Hmm, Ladybug knew what she was doing.”

Viperion plucked her hand off him. “Don’t do that, please.” 

“Oh,” her eyes widened slightly, the first sign of hesitancy he’d seen from her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“You didn’t,” Viiperion told her, squeezing the hand he was still holding before letting go. “I’d just rather we keep this hands off, if you don’t mind. No hard feelings.”

 “Sure,” Multimouse perked up again, though he thought he saw a hint of pink under her mask. 

“Can’t say I mind being on pretty girl detail for the day,” he said lightly, hoping to put her back at ease. “Where to, ma’am? I’m supposed to follow your lead.”

“This way,” Multimouse tugged him towards a corridor. “The akuma victim rents a space back here to use for her studio. Ladybug wants us to get there, take a look around, and see if we can get the akumatized item. She thinks it’s probably boobytrapped, so that’s where I come in. You’ll set second chance before I go just in case anything goes wrong.” 

Viperion followed her and they started slowly down the long, echoey hallway. So much for stealth, he thought, wincing slightly. Multimouse must have thought so too because while she kept her alert posture, she smiled back at him and said, “So, did you know that you came up second on the Ladyblog’s Hottest Hero: Male Edition survey?” 

Viperion chuckled awkwardly, trying not to blush. “Chat’s hard to compete with,” he replied with a crooked smile. 

“You were robbed, if you ask me,” Multimouse said in a conversational tone, winking at him when he glanced over at her. She really needs to stop doing that. He swallowed and took a slow breath before he answered her. He had a feeling he was going to be doing a lot of belly breathing today. 

“Everybody has their own taste,” Viperion shrugged. “Guess not everybody goes for ‘mysterious, aloof, and quiet.’” 

“You read your own profile?” Multimouse giggled. 

“I was curious,” he grinned. “Haven’t you read yours?”

“Don’t have one,” Multimouse held up her hands and pretended to pout. “I’m so overlooked.”

“I can’t imagine anyone overlooking you.” 

“Ooh, flatterer,” she giggled, and then sobered. “This is actually only my second time out. The first time was years ago and it didn’t end so great.” 

“Really? That surprises me. You seem so natural,” Viperion said, following her down the corridor. 

“Why thank you,” Multimouse grinned over her shoulder at him, and his heart skipped a beat. 

Marinette, he reminded himself firmly, although she technically had no claim on him and he certainly had none on her. He blew out another breath, and then inhaled deeply—and abruptly wrinkled his nose. “Fabric dye,” he muttered. He’d been over to Marinette’s once while she was dying fabric and even with her windows open the smell had driven him up to her balcony. 

“Yes, this is the place,” Multimouse confirmed. She opened the door a crack and peeked inside, and Viperion readied himself to jerk her back in case of any unexpected surprises. “You don’t have to go any further,” she said, her flirtatious air gone and replaced with an intense focus that impressed him. “I know you hate the smell. Multitude!”

Viperion looked at her sharply but was blinded by the light of her power activating. He took a step back as she glowed brightly, and when he could see again, his partner was gone. He looked down to see the Multimice grinning up at him. One of them waved him down. Viperion knelt and put his hand down. One of the Multimice climbed onto his palm and he lifted her to his face. “I’ll stay with you,” she said cheerfully, hands on her hips. “Wouldn’t want you to get lonely.” 

Viperion chuckled. “Welcome aboard.” He brought his hand up to his shoulder and the Multimouse hopped up. 

“The rest of me will go scout and report back,” she said, and then pointed to his bracelet. “If you could?”

“Second Chance.” Viperion slid the bracelet back.

The Multimice still on the floor blew him a kiss in unison, and then ran off in different directions. Viperion couldn’t help a smile, though he directed it at the ground. She—they? were really too cute. 

“So,” Multimouse said, reclining on her side along his shoulder and propping her face on one hand, “Just you and me now. Does my handsome partner have a girlfriend?” 

“No girlfriend,” he sighed, a wistful smile taking over his face. “Just a girl. One amazing girl. You’re cute, Mousey, and I’m sure you’ve got a style of amazing all your own, but my girl...she’s not my girl, she doesn’t like me that way, but...anyway, there’s no one like her. Not even Ladybug.” He looked at her and she jumped, shutting her mouth quickly and looking down as she ran her finger across the texture of his suit. “You? Anyone special in your life?”

“Hmm,” Multimouse twirled her jump rope absently. “Sort of. It’s...complicated.” She sighed dreamily. “And I really wish it wasn’t, because I really do like him. He’s sweet and talented and thoughtful...insightful, really.” She sat up, crossing her legs, and reached up to pinch his cheek, which felt really funny considering how small she was. “Almost as handsome as you. Nice muscles, too, though he doesn’t show them off nearly enough.” She bounced her foot and seemed to consider what she was about to say. “I thought I’d missed my chance though. I kept him waiting for a long time, and—” She looked at him, and then looked away quickly. “I was pretty sure he didn’t feel that way about me anymore, but...I’m starting to wonder if…” He turned his head slightly so that he could see her face better. She was smiling softly down at the jump rope in her hand, biting her full lower lip and blushing. Viperion smiled. 

“Well, maybe it’s time you took a little chance then,” he said, shrugging his shoulder just enough to jostle her slightly. “If he’s been waiting all that time, then he’s probably not going to make a move unless you do. He’s kinda put himself out there enough, don’t you think?”

Multimouse frowned, blinking at him. “But if he was still into me, wouldn’t he keep trying? Other...other guys have…” 

Luka snorted softly. “Would you like him if he was like ‘other guys?’” 

“I’d like him if he was like you,” Multimouse purred, leaning against his neck. 

“Right, okay,” Viperion chuckled. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want to. I’m just saying, if you are interested, then you’re going to have to make a move, because if he does still have feelings for you, he’s trying to respect you by keeping them to himself.” He turned his face toward her and winked. “Food for thought. Though I’m sure a girl like you has plenty of options.”

“Aw, I’ll bet you say that to all the girls you turn down.”

Luka chuckled. “Believe me, if it weren’t for M—my girl, I’d be first in line.”

Multimouse squeaked and nearly fell backwards off of his shoulder, and Luka bit his lip in a vain effort to contain his grin. 

“Need a hand?” he asked, careful not to move.

“No, I’m good!” she gasped, clawing her way back up the seams of his suit. Then she turned her head and brightened. “Oh, here I come!”

The Minimice—nope, Viperion immediately crossed that name out in his mind—the Manymice—no, that was practically the same as Multimice. Copymice? Okay that just sounded dumb. This is why I let Rose write the lyrics, ugh. The Multimice returned, each of them with their arms full of...yarn? Viperion knelt and his Multimouse jumped down from his shoulder. They chattered amongst themselves, talking so fast that Viperion couldn’t quite keep up, and then they lined up and began knotting their pieces of yarn together.

One of them (he wasn’t sure if it was the same one that had been with him all this time; he wished they came in different colors or something so he could tell them apart) turned to him and said, “The akumatized object is defended by a weird sort of...maze made of yarn. Like one of those laser grids you see in spy movies? We’re pretty sure that if we can get above it, we can drop down through the maze. I’m not sure what the strands do but we’d just as soon not find out! I think we’ve got enough pieces here to reach from those girders up there.” She pointed up and Viperion looked up to the girders crossing the warehouse-style ceiling.

“Are you sure it’ll hold?” Viperion frowned. “I don’t want you to fall.” 

“Check it,” Multimouse winked at him, holding it up. Viperion took yarn and held it up, inspecting the knots. His eyebrows went up.

“You know your knots,” he said, tugging the yarn carefully. The knots tightened and held. “Where’d you learn that?” 

“Oh,” the mini Multimouse’s eyes went wide, and she blushed under her mask. “Umm...a friend taught me.” 

“Your special friend?” Viperion teased, “Maybe more special than you said if he taught you knots like these.”

“It is not like that,” Multimouse insisted, growing pinker. She folded her arms and looking away from him. “He spends a lot of time around boats, that’s all. Maybe I should ask how you know them.” 

“I’ve spent a little bit of time on boats as well,” Viperion chuckled. “Well, it looks pretty good. I think it should work. Everybody grab on, let’s give it a quick test and make sure it’ll hold your weights.” 

The Multimice all grabbed onto the yarn rope in a line, and Luka carefully lifted it by one end, his other hand ready to catch anybody that fell. Finally all of the mice were off the ground, the end of the rope hovering an inch or so above the floor. “Okay,” Viperion nodded. “Okay, looks good. Nice work. I’ll take you up.” He looked up to the steel girders criss-crossing above him and then around, planning his route up. 

It took some fumbling but after a few minutes, Viperion got to his feet with his arms full of clinging Multimice. “Everybody good?” he asked. “If you don’t feel secure, now’s the time to say.” 

“We’re good!” chorused the girls, and Viperion chuckled, then looked up again and took a deep breath.

“Okay, here we go. One...two…” He felt them grip tighter. “Three!” Viperion leapt, resisting the instinct to use his arms for balance and momentum, and made it up to the steel crossbeam. He blew out a slow breath, relieved as he let the Multimice carefully down on the girder. 

“Well done,” one said, patting his hand with a sympathetic look, and Viperion smiled tightly, a little more adrenaline in his system than he wanted to admit to from the effort of getting up here without dropping or crushing anyone. 

“Be careful,” he said as the Multimice walked along the girder until they were all gathered above the glowing yarn maze, looking down into the center. Luka followed, careful not to knock anyone off as he looked down. 

“Not scared of heights, are you?” Multimouse teased. 

“Not at all,” Luka chuckled, sitting down on the girder and hanging his legs off as he looked down. “What is that? It looks like a stapler.”

“It’s a bedazzler,” said Multimouse, and all of them wrinkled their noses at once. “How cheap. Did she really think she was going to pass that off in front of those judges? Audrey Bourgeois might be the queen of glitter but I guarantee you the stuff she uses costs at least a hundred bucks a bottle and cheap rhinestones are not going to cut it. I can just hear her now.” She put her nose in the air, one hand on her hip and the other one out in an affected pose as she flapped her hand. “Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” Viperion’s breath caught, his eyes widening slightly.

“That’s...a pretty good impression,” he said slowly, looking intently at her. “Almost the best one I’ve seen.” 

Multimouse just shook her head. “Poor thing was probably humiliated, no wonder Hawkmoth got to her.” She held up the end of their yarn rope. “Would you mind tying it?” 

Viperion did so, hands working the tiny yarn rope almost automatically as his mind raced on other matters. He gave the Multimice a thoughtful look, but none of them noticed, all on their hands and knees staring down at the purple bedazzler. “This is really worrying,” one of them commented. “This is the first time an akuma’s actually hidden away from the akumatized person. This one’s simple enough, but they always get smarter.” 

When the rope was secure, he lowered it carefully between the strands of the yarn maze. Four Multimice hopped onto it one by one and slid down.

Working together, they knotted the end of the yarn rope securely around the bedazzler, silently thanking Luka for his lessons on knots and ropes, and then one by one the Multimice shimmied back up the rope. Once there, they reformed into one large multimouse, who grinned up at Viperion triumphantly as she reached down and grabbed the yarn rope, hauling the bedazzler up hand over hand. “And there we go,” she grinned triumphantly, sitting down on the beam and crossing her legs, holding out the bedazzler triumphantly.

Viperion was looking at her strangely, one arm folded across his chest and the other propped up on it, fingers pressed to his lips. Multimouse cocked her head, and looked back at him. “Do I have something on my face?” she quipped. “Besides the mask.” 

He didn’t answer. 

“Care to do the honors?” Multimouse asked, setting the bedazzler down between them. 

Viperion wordlessly took his lyre from the small of his back and smashed it down in a quick, violent movement that made Multimouse jump. It did the trick, though, and the akuma floated free. 

“Wow,” Multimouse said absently, tracking the little butterfly. “Never thought I’d see you do that with an instrument. I’ll signal Ladybug and meet you on the next roof over.” She got to her feet and leapt nimbly across the beams, following the akuma. When she was sure she was out of Viperion’s sight, she whispered, “Come on out, Tikki.” Tikki popped out of one of her buns and came to float in front of her, beaming. “Ready?” Multimouse asked, and Tikki nodded. “Okay. Mullo, Tikki, unify.” A few minutes later, she’d captured the akuma and tossed her yoyo to cast the cure.

She stood weighing her yoyo in her hand. Technically speaking, Multibug supposed there was no need for her to meet up with Viperion again. She could have just sent him home, which was her original plan. But she hadn’t and he was expecting her and she felt unwilling to disappoint him. Marinette was used to the extra freedom that came with the mask and didn’t usually let it go to her head, but...well. She’d said a lot of things to Viperion today that Marinette had been longing to say to Luka for a while now and it felt good. He deserved to hear that he was brave and strong and kind and wonderful, and nobody said it to him the way they should.

Including her. 

“Mullo, Tikki, divide,” she ordered, and Tikki flew free. She took one look at Multimouse’s face and giggled, hiding back in her bun again.

When Multimouse arrived on the roof, Viperion was sitting on the ledge of the roof, one knee bent and one hanging down, his eyes on the lyre in his hands as he idly plucked a tune. He looked like he’d been plucked from the gardens at Versaille and left there by accident. There was something about his posture that made her uneasy and she approached him with a little less swagger than she had planned. She opened her mouth to greet him but he spoke before she could.

“I was just thinking,” he said, eyes still down, “About that girl. The one I’m so crazy about. She’s a lot like you.” 

Multimouse rocked back on her heels slightly, trying not to give away how thrown she was. She folded her arms and cocked her shoulders teasingly, closing one eye. “I thought you said there was nobody like her.” 

Viperion chuckled, still strumming. Strumming...strumming Marinette’s song, she realized with a sudden jolt. “This girl, she’s amazing. I’ve been in love with her for years. She wasn’t interested though so I’ve been kinda hanging back for a while now.” He shook his head, and Multimouse was having trouble looking away from the fingers plucking the lyre. “I’m starting to think though...maybe she’s changing her mind. Maybe she’s starting to feel a little bit of what I feel for her.” 

Marinette felt a thrill that sped up and down her body and took up residence in her stomach, electrifying the butterflies already fluttering there. “You still love her?”

Viperion smiled, and stopped playing, returning his lyre to the small of his back as he cocked his head to look at her, and the look in his eyes took her breath. “More and more as time passes. She just keeps getting more amazing, not less. I’ve dated other people, but never for long. Nobody measures up. I think maybe I can get over her then I see her again and it’s like no time has passed at all.”

Multimouse had no reason to blush at that, she reminded herself. She strolled over to him and turned, flattening her hands on the ledge where he was sitting and leaning back against it. “You should tell her, then. Maybe you’re right and her feelings are changing, but she thinks you’ve moved on so she’s too scared to say anything.”

“Well, you know. I might be wrong, but…” Viperion leaned toward her and put his mouth right by her ear. “I think I just did.” 

She couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her. 

Viperion hopped off the ledge and turned to face her, placing one hand next to her on the ledge as he leaned in close. Just like Luka, she thought distantly, her heart racing, to not trap her in, to leave her an escape.  “You know a little too much about me for coincidence, little mouse. And maybe I know you just a little bit too well. I’ve heard you do that Audrey Bourgeois impression a few thousand times.” Multmouse bit her lip. “You’ve been running me a merry chase all day but I’ve caught you now, haven’t I?” Viperion continued, his nose brushed lightly against her cheek, just under her mask. “Can I kiss you?” 

“I don’t mind, handsome,” Multimouse said, as bravely as she could manage, even though having him so close was making her heart pound. “But what if you’re wrong?” 

“Haven’t you heard?” She could see Viperion’s grin widen out of the corner of her eye. “I’m all about taking chances.” 

Multimouse turned her face to give him a Look, lips parted for a retort, but as soon as she turned to him, he dipped down and kissed her—not the soft, careful way she’d always imagined Luka would kiss, but hard and hungry and fierce, like—

Like they were both wearing masks and they could pretend it never happened if they chose. Like it might be the only time she’d ever let him and he intended to make the most of it. Like she’d been torturing him all day and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

Like he’d been in love with her for years and was finally feeling a tiny sliver of hope that she might have feelings for him too.

She felt him hesitate and begin to pull back, and suddenly she realized she hadn’t exactly stopped him, but she wasn’t really responding either, too caught off guard to do more than let her lips form to his. And if that wasn’t just like Luka, to kiss her like that and still wait for her. 

Marinette might have hesitated. Ladybug would have delivered a lecture on professionalism in the suit.

Multimouse put her arms around his neck to stop his retreat and pressed into him, catching his lower lip between her teeth before pressing her mouth to his. His breath hitched and his hesitation disappeared and then they were really kissing, and it was like kissing him on her balcony only better, because this time he wasn’t shocked and hesitating and acting on instinct.  

This time he wanted her and she wanted him and neither of them had to own up to it if they didn’t want to and it made them reckless.

By the time they stopped only his arm around her waist and the hand feeling up her back were keeping her from just toppling over the roof, he’d bent her so far back. They hung there for a moment, panting, and then he slowly straightened, bringing her back upright. He grinned at her, looking extremely pleased with himself as he eyed her. She felt a little cheated that his Miraculous lipstick wasn’t smudged, but his hair was a wreck, which made her smirk. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he told her, voice deeper than she’d ever heard it outside of a performance.

Multimouse slipped out of his arms and turned half-away from him, hands on her hips. “You think you know who I am,” she said, pouting bruised lips. “But that doesn’t mean I know who you are.” 

“Hmm,” he smiled indulgently, leaning back against the roof ledge. “If you didn’t know before, I think you know now. I’m planning to be at Cafe Belle about two o’clock tomorrow. If the girl I like just happens to wander by, I’ll ask her to join me for coffee and cheesecake.” 

Multimouse wrinkled her nose. “Is that a mouse joke?” 

Viperion’s low chuckle made her shiver. “If she doesn’t care for cheesecake I’m sure I can find something to her taste.” 

“Hmm,” Multimouse said airily, twirling the end of her jump rope tail as she sauntered away from him. “Well, good luck with that…” 

Viperion sighed, head cocking slightly. “I am going to miss that suit.” 

Multimouse whirled, her hands on her hips. “And I thought you were such a gentleman.” 

Viperion grinned, looking at her through his bangs, his green eyes looking somehow more intense and...predatory than Luka’s usual blue. “I guess we both learned something about each other today. I didn’t know you could be such a tease. You made it an awfully long day today, you know.” 

Multimouse cocked a hip and folded her arms. “You still might be wrong.”

Viperion shrugged, but his grin didn’t budge. “Maybe.” He winked. “See you tomorrow.” He kicked up his legs and flipped over the roof ledge behind him. 

Multimouse sighed. “I’m going to miss that suit too.” 

***

Luka was sweating and exhausted by the time he got back to the boat. He’d run as Viperion as fast and as far as he could, teeth clenched to keep from whooping at the top of his lungs. 

Even after his transformation dropped, he sprinted a couple of blocks just on his own. He had, after all, kind of a lot of energy to burn off. Every time he thought he was calming down, he remembered, and a grin split his face and he put on another burst of speed. 

He could hear Sass laughing at him in his hood and he couldn’t care at all. 

Luka arrived home panting and sweating and dishevelled. That wasn’t unusual for him; if anyone saw him they’d probably assume he’d been at work—which was sort of true, anyway, even if no one knew he occasionally moonlighted as a superhero and made out with pretty girls on rooftops how the hell did this become his life.

Sass eyed Luka as the kwami ate his snack. Luka grinned at him and then at the ground.

“May I asssk what that was?”

Luka shrugged his shoulders without looking up. “Hormones?” 

Sass laughed. “Indeed.” 

Luka risked a glance at him. “Are you going to yell at me?” 

Sass snorted. “I am not. If you wissssh a lecture, I’m sure Ladybug can arrange a disssscusion with Tikki. Persssonally, I think if you are judged worthy to wield me, which you have done resssponssibly for yearsss, it isss reasssonable to asssume you are not a fool. You knew what you were doing, you knew the risssk you were taking. Ladybug trusssts you with the fate of the city; I trussst you to ssstand up to your choicesss, whatever the outcome.”

“I—” Luka sighed. “Thanks, Sass.” 

Sass finished his food and came to land on Luka’s shoulder, wrapping his tail lightly around Luka’s neck. He patted Luka’s cheek gently.

Luka put the plate away and went back on deck to wait for Ladybug. Unsurprisingly, given how long it had taken him to get home, he didn’t have to wait long. He was leaning on his elbows staring at the water when her feet hit the deck and the zip of her retracting yoyo. 

“You’re not playing your guitar,” she observed.

Luka turned and shrugged. “It’s been kind of a weird day,” he said, handing over the bracelet. “I think I’m still processing it.” 

Ladybug’s eyebrow quirked and his heart jumped for no apparent reason. Habit, he supposed, at this point. Gorgeous blue-eyed girls had been wrecking him all day so why should now be any different?

Different. 

It...wasn’t different. It wasn’t different at all. Luka swallowed, suddenly staring at Ladybug’s mouth.

“Good weird or bad weird?” Ladybug asked, tilting her head and studying him. He probably looked deranged, he realized, windblown and sweaty and suddenly having a lot of difficulty putting words together.

“Good,” he replied, barely managing not to stutter. “The good kind, the best, actually, um…” He pressed his lips together before he could babble anything else. Ladybug looked like she was fighting a smile.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am fantastic,” he said, collapsing more than leaning back against the rail. “Couldn’t be better.” 

Ladybug giggled. “Well, that’s good to hear.” She gave him a smirk and flung her yoyo. “See you around, Luka.”  

“Right,” he said numbly to the empty air, and then he bolted for the door to the cabin. He clattered down the stairs and burst into his thankfully-empty room where he could lose his shit in peace. 

It was a little thing, really. Her lips were just a little redder than usual, but it was enough. The eyes, the lips, the hair—holy shit the smirk—he felt like an idiot. Luka’s legs went weak and he sat down on his bed.

He bent his head and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. “I need a shower,” he muttered absently.

“Didn’t you shower this morning?” Juleka grumbled from the doorway.

Luka stripped off his sweaty shirt and threw it in her face. “I’m a guy, I need another one.” 

“Eeew!” she squealed, clawing it away. By the time she threw it to the floor, Luka had pushed past her and into the Liberty’s small bathroom, just about the only place where he could actually be alone on the whole boat. 

He preferred to be alone while his brain was melting out of his ears.

Multimouse was Marinette. Marinette is Ladybug. It was clear as day now, it just plain wasn’t possible that there were two people like that in the world, let alone three. He felt like such a moron. 

Marinette kissed him and he kissed Multmouse who was Marinette who was Ladybug and that he means he kissed Ladybug. Twice! Which, okay, he was in love with Marinette and always had been, and over the moon to have been kissing her, but he’d had some time to process that part and come on. Ladybug. If there was anyone in their age group who was attracted to girls who hadn’t fantasized about kissing Ladybug...well it was no one he’d ever met. Just nobody thought they’d ever actually get to, and he had, and that was kind of blowing his mind.

Juleka would be so jealous if she knew. 

Of course she hadn’t been wearing the masks at the time, or at least not that mask, but Luka didn’t care. He’d kiss Marinette in any mask or no mask and he’d wear any damn thing she wanted him to because he was madly, stupidly in love with her, and she was three times as amazing as he ever thought and he had a date with her tomorrow.

After years of silent pining and half-hearted attempts to move on...he had a date with Marinette. 

His hands were shaking.

Luka leaned his elbows on the tiny sink and grinned at himself in the mirror, shaking his head.

“You are one lucky bastard,” he muttered to his reflection, and laughed, giddy and breathless.

***

“What am I doing, Tikki?” Marinette breathed as she walked, briskly despite her nerves. “This is crazy. Right? Tell me this is crazy, Tikki.” 

“Love is always a little crazy, Marinette,” Tikki giggled, peeking up from Marinette’s purse. “Just give it a chance! For once it’s not the world at stake. And it’s just Luka.”

“Right,” Marinette muttered. “Just Luka, that I climbed all over yesterday and now he knows it was me and—”

“And thinking that he wanted you to meet him today just to reject you would be crazy,” Tikki teased, poking Marinette’s side. “I know it’s scary, Marinette, but this is the good scary! The normal scary! The exciting scary!”

Marinette smiled and put her hand in her purse to stroke Tikki’s head lightly. “Thanks, Tikki.” She promptly faltered a step and tripped. “Oh no, there he is. Just like he said he would be.”

“That’s a good thing, Marinette!” Tikki giggled.

Luka was leaning against the wall between the cafe door and the alley separating it from the next building, hands shoved in his pockets. His jean pockets, because he wasn’t wearing the hoodie that she had seen on him at nearly every encounter for three years, just a Kitty Section t-shirt that Marinette had made him.

And because she’d made it, it fit him perfectly. And without his hoodie, it left his arms mostly bare. Marinette whimpered quietly, cursing yesterday-Marinette for making her admiration of his arms so...obvious.

“You can do it, Marinette,” Tikki whispered, sinking lower into the purse. Marinette gulped in a deep breath and started walking again.

“Hi Luka,” she called as she got closer, “Hey, what a surprise, running into you like this! I was just, um, just out and about.” 

Luka looked up, giving her that same warm stare she’d last seen from masked green eyes, and a slow smile that made her skin tingle. “Hey Marinette. Fancy meeting you here. I was just thinking about getting a table to grab some lunch. His smile took on a cocky tilt that she had only rarely seen on him and for a moment she couldn’t decide if she was annoyed by it or something else entirely. “Care to join me? I hear they have great cheesecake here.”

Marinette stood, vibrating in indecision for just a moment. Luka’s eyes didn’t waver. 

Well, maybe it’s time you took a little chance then. He’s kinda put himself out there enough, don’t you think?

He was right. 

But first things first.

Marinette took a deep breath, steadied her nerves, and in a smoother motion than she would have thought she was capable of outside of the suit, she stepped up to him, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and swung him around into the alley entrance. “Woah,” he yelped, and then his eyes widened further as she planted a hand in the middle of his chest and pushed, backing him further down the (thankfully relatively clean) alley. Something in her face must have given him an inkling of her mood because he was slowly turning very red. 

She changed her angle to back him into the wall and kept advancing until she was chest to chest with him, looking up into his face. “Just so we’re clear,” she said, with only a little tremble in her voice though she could feel her hands starting to shake, “Nothing on this earth will save you if you breathe a word of what you think you know to anyone.” 

Luka’s eyes couldn’t get any wider. “Of course,” he gasped, breathlessly. “I wouldn’t, I would nev—mmph!” Marinette grabbed the back of his neck and jerked him down into a kiss that was harder than she meant it to be, just out of nerves. He must have liked it well enough, though, because he made the same noise he’d made yesterday when she kissed Viperion on her balcony. That sparked the memory of the look on his face afterwards, which made her giggle, and then she squeaked as he took advantage of her distraction and—wow, pulling him into the alley was a good decision because she did not want any witnesses to this.  

This was so much better without the suits, she realized giddily as he pulled her up flush against him. He made that noise again when her hands slid up over his shoulders and slipped into his hair. It felt amazing and she could have kissed him forever but there were things she still needed to say. 

Finally she put her hand on his shoulder, pushing lightly, and he stopped and drew back to look at her, lips red and hair even more tousled than usual, and Marinette was grateful he was still holding her because she wasn’t sure she could stand on her own at that point. 

“A little mouse told me you still had feelings for me,” Marinette whispered. “Is it true? Because I—” she continued in a rush before he could answer. “Because I definitely have feelings for you and if it’s not true that’s okay, but if it—if it is then maybe we could go have that cheesecake and if you’re free maybe we could go see a movie and—”

He cut her off with another kiss, and it was softer and slower, more tender, more like how she had always imagined Luka would kiss, but it was no less thrilling. 

“She also said you were a really good kisser,” Marinette added breathlessly when he drew back.  

“Yeah?” The corner of his mouth came up in a subtle smirk that she could definitely get used to seeing on him. 

“Yeah,” Marinette shrugged one shoulder, aware that her intense blush belied her unusually calm attitude. “So I guess I’m kinda hoping that since she was right about that,” Marinette dropped her eyes and rubbed two fingers against the fabric of his t-shirt, “Maybe she was right about the other thing too?” 

“If you mean the fact that I’m even more in love with you than I was the day you tripped into my room,” he lowered his forehead to rest on hers and took a shaky breath. “Then yeah, she was totally right. And that’s one secret I’m more than happy to be rid of.” 

“I’m sorry,” Marinette sighed, “For keeping you waiting so long, and then hesitating even when I knew what I wanted.”

Luka lifted one hand and brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek. “If you think I’m even the slightest bit dissatisfied right now then by all means, let me convince you I’m not.” His hand turned and cupped her cheek as he leaned in. Marinette put a finger on his chin and he paused. 

“So...about that cheesecake?” she smiled.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go,” he told her, and his eyes—she couldn’t look away. “Today and any day. Every day, if you want. Whatever I have to do to make this real, just tell me, I’m there.” 

Marinette smiled slowly. “Silly boy,” she said, letting her finger slide away from his chin. “It’s already real.” 

He looked at her with soft eyes, and his voice was warm and low as he said, “Then let’s go have some cheesecake and go watch a movie that, I’m going to warn you now, I have no intention of remembering.” His arm slid around her, pulling her close into his side, and she smiled. 

Luka smiled too as they strolled towards the cafe entrance together, not entirely convinced that his feet were touching the ground, and only the persistent pounding assured him his heart was still in his chest. 

Luka held open the cafe door for her and she smiled up at him. As she passed him, he took a cookie out of his pocket and slipped it into her purse. He wanted to make a good impression, after all, even if he wasn’t quite ready to tell Marinette he’d figured out more of her secrets than she realized.

@wickidjennie

#quickspins #500 followers #thank you #hope you love it #triple threat #flirting #fluff #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #mlfics

[archetypal-archivist]

Sky’s Limit- Hermitcraft- Worldbuilding

Heyo! This was the product of a plot bunny I got while watching the newest animated music video by Porter Robinson, and it features pretty much all the hermits. Long into the distant future, there is a city of gleaming white and technological marvels. Electricity is entirely clean, its people are always happy, and life- as it has always done- goes on. However, for all it seems like a utopia, there is one facet that may seem out of place. The city is truly, utterly silent. Sure, there are voices and happy chatter, laughter on street corners and children running in the streets. But there is no hum, no electric buzz that most crafters of the past would have been familiar with. There is no redstone. For indeed, the red dust is entirely illegal and those who work with it are relegated to the city’s dark underbelly. And not all of them are happy to be there. It is in this city, the city of Sky’s Limit, that I have dropped our hermits. Time will tell what happens next.

----

A story in which the world has been… purified. Think skyblock, portrayed as a world of natural wonder, soft angles and high rises that scrape the clouds above, all in shimmering shades of pearlescent white. The only noise is the rushing of the wind through the grass far, far below and the distant echo of passing conversation and laughter. There are no cars, no chatter of coms, no hissing creepers or vroomping, thieving endermen. Just peace. And sometimes, if you listen carefully enough, the flapping of wings as the most blessed of the city’s inhabitants fly  overhead, the celebrity darlings and envy of everyone below. For some of the hermits, life is good. Bdubs, Xisuma, Grian, and Jevin are all upper nobility. Xisuma and Grian are some of the lucky few with wings (bee and bird respectively for X and G), while Jevin is blessed simply for being sky blue and transparent- and a being so like the sky must surely be worthy of high ranking. Surely. Xisuma is an administrator of the city, one of those who keep track of the nitty-gritty bits, like how much food each sector goes through a month, the efficiency of the watering systems in the fields, etc. Grian is just a straight up celebrity darling, beloved by the people for his pranks and personality. Late at night, he runs a TV talk show. Jevin has a seat on the city governance, one of thirteen “elected” chancellors. Bdubs is another chancellor, low-key the one in charge, as it was his idea to create a city of white, one that ran on clean energy and lawfulness, who drew up the first blueprint and built much of the city himself. It’s said that there’s no corner of it he isn’t aware of, no part that he didn’t have a hand in designing. While this isn’t quite the case, one thing is certain- BDubs certainly has “designs” and they are very grand indeed. After these hermits fall the ones who are upper to middle class. Stress is a well-trusted doctor in the city’s finest hospital. She believes in the system that saved her life so long ago with all her heart and does her best to keep the city and its people running as best as they possibly can. Compassion and lawful goodness fall into the same boat for Stress, which can sometimes end poorly for criminals who go to her for medical care, thinking that surely a doctor as kind as Stress would never turn away someone, even if they have broken the law. What they forget is that becoming a doctor takes a spine of steel, and Stress has gone one step above the rest- she has a spine of chrome, and she will do what she must to keep her city running strong. (Incidentally, that chrome spine of hers? Not hyperbole, an “accident” at 6 made sure of that.) Vintagebeef runs a butcher shop and is mid to low ranking. He serves the best sandwiches in the city, as attested to by his best customers, Rendog and Falsesymmetry. Rendog is a happy go lucky reporter who spends equal time chasing skirts as he does chasing his next scoop. False is a beat cop, one of the best, and she’s gone viral at least once for dumping criminals who think that just because she's a girl that means she can’t fight. She’s particularly embarrassed (and a bit proud) of the video of her literally picking up a criminal and dumping him the nearest trash chute. Welsknight, the unfortunate garbage man, was quite unhappy to have to remove the criminal from the chute, as for all of False’s strength, she wasn’t quite strong enough to pry the man loose again. He now low-key follows False around to clean up all of her messes as while the media at large is quite fond of her feats, the local infrastructure isn’t.  Somehow, he always ends up at the right place at the right time. Scar is a bit down on his luck, but overall is doing pretty well for himself. He’s one of the architects for the city, was in fact famous for a time for creating a specific style of sheer white skyscraper that allowed for more solar panels to be placed along its side. However, 2 years later and people are starting to realize that for some reason, his buildings aren’t as efficient as they ought to be and his designs have since fallen out of favor. Rendog had taken great joy running his name through the muck, unfortunately, as a man’s got to eat and for all the Scar is a nice guy, a renowned architect falling from grace makes for quite the scoop. The two don’t like each other much, but they’ve actually seen each other’s faces. Anyway, Scar has been living off of his savings, hoping that someone up top would care enough about him to fix the issue and find out what went wrong. After 2 years of nothing, however, he has realized that if he ever wants to figure out the mystery of his buildings’ lack of efficiency, he’ll need to find out himself. Little does he know, Keralis, the architect that replaced him, has been doing quite well for himself and the last thing he wants is to lose his position to the guy he had replaced. While a generally nice guy, Keralis has had a taste of the high life and now there’s no going back. He knows what Scar is up to, and is quite… invested in keeping the status quo. No. Matter. What. Joe Hills runs a bookstore. A completely normal bookstore. Yes, really officer, I promise. Just like how XB, his best friend and right hand man, employee of the month, every month, is entirely average in every way and has never done anything wrong in his life, ever. There is one more among the hermits who has wings- Etho. Or rather, had. Etho had his wings cut off for undisclosed crimes against the city and now works in a toy shop on the outskirts of town. He’s thoroughly mysterious and always looks tired, but his toys and trinkets business does surprisingly well and he always seems happy, behind that mask of his. The only hint that this isn’t quite the case is the tightness around his eyes. A secret? When they told him that the pain would never stop, that awful night when they burnt his wings off? He didn’t believe them. (Oh god, the way it smelled.) He really, really should have. 

You’ve heard about the shining white walls, the perfect healthcare, the love the people hold for the city and the rigor with which they defend it. The quiet, the peace, the wonderful golden silence found in its streets and reflecting from its windows. Even the light seems quieter there. If you’re smart, you may have picked up that something isn’t quite right with the city, that 2/3s of our cast seems to be missing. You’d be right, almost. Mumbo, Cub. Cleo? They aren’t missing- they’re hiding. And they have very good reason to do so. 

The city’s name is Sky’s Limit, and it is built on a foundation of marble and hard, cold law. It is a city of white… and black. And lurking in its shadows are all those that do not belong, those whose colors do not fit, those who can’t afford the brilliant marble towers or the plastic smiles popularized by the rich and famous. It is a city choked into silence by its secrets and one thing it cannot abide is the humming electric whine of redstone. And those who practice it are criminals in the eyes of the law, to be persecuted to its fullest extent and often, even beyond. Even to the grave, if needs must or the council orders such. And BDubs is so very, very fond of his restful, quiet beauty sleep. Not everyone agrees with these laws however, and brewing in the black, sunless shadows of the city’s underbelly are those determined to see the city shine red. Zedaph is the closest to legal of the underground hermits- he has to be when he has two more mouths to feed, Tango and Impulse. Although the latter two are redstone geniuses and do well in making food stretch and and make their ramshackle rented apartment livable, it is Zedaph alone who  fake any marketable skills. While Impulse and Tango do their best to keep the lights on and use redstone wiring to steal power from the city’s solar- and wind-powered electrical grid, Zedaph peddles the doodads and toys he makes to the poorest children of the city. Many of them still contain some measure of redstone, as it's nigh-impossible to ignore its thrumming call entirely if you are born to do the stuff, but his target audience is usually too young, too uneducated, and too scared of the law to recognize it or say anything about it. And if a bit of redstone Impulse or Tango put together can help someone make it another day, and Zedaph can make it look passably legal? Well, some of the poorest housewives and mothers can look the other way The trio are happy together, but making ends meet is hard and with summer coming, resources are soon to be harder to get than ever. (A city of light and pure white? Things start to heat up fast, and water becomes more precious than ever. And with summer coming, it means less water gathering in puddles and drain pipes in the city, and thus less water for the underground redstoners and hybrids to tap into.) Little does Zedaph know, however, he’s caught the attention of another toymaker in the city. In addition to this, Tango is getting restless, frustrated with the trio’s lot in life. Even under normal circumstances he can’t sit still, and being cooped up inside all the time because his glowing red eyes give him away as being both a hybrid and really in tune with redstone? It sucks. A lot. Impulse tries to keep his buddy distracted, but there’s only so much he can do, and now, Tango has been disappearing at odd hours, frequently when he and Zedaph are trying to sleep, and coming back with an odd look in his eyes. Just a few days ago he had found the remains of a charred pamphlet in their dumpster out back. Something is coming to head, and Impulse isn’t sure he’s going to like the outcome. Not that he’d ever mention the mounting tension to Zedaph, of course. His buddy has enough to worry about. ZombieCleo… runs a speakeasy/burlesque show underneath Joe’s bookstore. She has his full approval of course, and they’re fast friends under the merits of he’s one of the only decent men she’s ever met. It helps that he’s hardcore aro-ace and has no interest in her or her girls. Cleo, being a zombie hybrid, knows all too well about the tough life being a hybrid is and how it can make people turn to awful things just to make ends meet. She knows that doing sex work is the last thing her girls want to be doing, not that they have a choice, and she does her best to do right by them. She protects her workers viciously, and if any of her patrons try to treat her girls too roughly, or try to skip out on payment? Well, being a hybrid comes with a few perks and a nice pair of teeth and nails is all part of the package. Coincidentally, Joe is awfully good at hiding a body. Doc is perhaps the most down on his luck of the hermits. As both a redstoner and an obvious hybrid, he can’t find work, he can’t find anyone willing to rent to him, he can barely even find food enough to eat. He’s resorted to petty theft and squatting, and if it wasn’t for his ruthless determination that this city would not be the death of him, he would have laid down and given up long ago. Not even the occasional rendezvous with the local garbage cans is enough to deter him (courtesy of the local beat cop. That woman has no right to be as strong as she is). It’s on one such day, trying to pry himself out of yet another trashcan far too small for him, that Doc finally gets his lucky break. The old man to whom the trashcan belongs to comes out, hoping to dispose of his waste for evening, and instead finds the creeper hybrid there, cursing up a storm and angry enough to kill. The sight would almost be threatening to TFC if, you know, he hadn’t seen worse and the hybrid in question looked like he hadn’t had a good meal for years. TFC invites Doc inside after helping to pry him loose, and Doc, while suspicious, accepts. TFC low key makes Doc move in with him and treats the man well, seeing as the poor hybrid reacts to every little thing as if he had never seen kindness. TFC also begins to tell stories to Doc about the time before the city was built, before redstone was outlawed and hybrids were looked down upon as lesser beings. And Doc, utterly enchanted by the concept, begins to have… ideas. Iskall was in the same position as Doc for a while, but they too get their lucky break. They get picked up by Mumbo Jumbo and is introduced to the Cotillion, the rebel group who are out to shake the city to its very foundations and bring about an age of redstone dominance. Mumbo and the hundreds of people under him plan on breaking the social order and instating redstoners and hybrids as the top dogs, and Iskall finds themself shocked that the rebels seem to have the organization and resources to actually do it. Mumbo is witty and charismatic, seemingly always having a plan and a silver-tongued speech to go with it. He also installs Iskall as second in command, much to their shock. Time will tell if the Cotillion is going to succeed. Cub is living in one of Scar’s buildings, along with many other redstoners. Just... Not entirely legally.

This is pretty much the end of the world-building section, I’ll come out with a post on the general plot as soon as I can. TBC :)

#hermitcraft #fanfiction #my writing #minecraft #sky's limit au #world building