Tumgik
#wretched old man appreciation squad
trans-corvo · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media
ms paint dracula time
45 notes · View notes
arsnovacadenza · 4 years
Text
Day 2: Standoff
Characters: Napoleon Bonaparte & Wellington (OC by @batteryrose) Pairings     : Napolington gen/pre-slash
“En Garde!”
By the third day, Leon was brave enough to look over his back.
He noticed somebody had been watching him as he left the airplane wreckage after looting for rations. Although they were distant, the crunching sounds his stalker's footsteps made were audible.
If they were in a war, he might have thought of them as foolish. But there was no war. There hadn't been any for years. Minuscule battles still occurred here and there, including the skirmish his squad encountered before they were separated from each other.
Now it's just you and I, Leon smiled wryly. Why you still think of me as a threat, I have no idea.
How long had they been alone?
Before this, the French soldier had been moving from one settlement to another, searching for a radio. Every building had been long abandoned, and he struggled to find one with working electricity. Sleeping places weren't hard to find (if you considered those cracker-thin mattresses comfortable), and neither was running water.
But scouring for food was an entirely different matter. Leon was no picky eater. His training (as well as recurring unfortunate circumstances) allowed him to withstand a relatively unchanging diet of flavorless protein bars. But even those were scarce.
Leon remembered the days when he and his comrades would keep an eye out for farms around their vicinity. At night, they'd jump over the fences and slaughtered whatever animals they came across. If they were lucky, they'd carry off a sack of potatoes or two.
It was unethical, they acknowledged. Nothing was in this fast decaying, dog-eat-dog world.
"At least no one's been murdered." His friend Joachim joked. "Hell, I heard that folks one town over from mine used to kill visiting foreign officers and cooked them!"
The town he was referring to had turned to dust long before they were born. Joachim himself disappeared one day during foraging and never returned.
Leon breathed out a long, deep sigh before he stood.
Reluctantly, he reached out for his rifle. Showdown or no, he needed to look for more bullets. Ignoring the eyes that were following him, Leon continued on his way.
Tumblr media
Leon stared at his reflection. Dark circles were already taking shape under his eyes. The watering hole would've been a great place to nap if it wasn't for the lone soldier trailing him.
As if he was one to talk. What soldier under pursuit would do his laundry out in the open? Leon chuckled, imagining how baffled the other must have been seeing him setting up a clothesline and washing his shirt and jacket in just his undershirt.
But to Leon, his display of vulnerability was good enough of an invitation. If his predictions were correct, his adversary would come out of hiding and approach, knowing Leon meant no harm.
Not that he expected too much of their possible confrontation. If things took a turn for the worst, he would at least be free of starvation and solitude. Maybe he'd even reunite with Joachim and the others.
His sanity slippage must be very severe if he thought dying by an enemy's bullet was ideal, Leon thought.
Not that he had to wait too long for the end to arrive. Boots clunked heavily on the giant steel plate he was sitting on. Apparently, their owners no longer bothered to conceal their presence anymore.
Without waiting for Leon to turn around, the stalker greeted him in English. "Bold of you to turn your back on an enemy soldier. Are you not afraid of dying?"
Ah, it's a he. And just as desperate as I am.
"Other things can kill me faster." Leon promptly replied, the words rolling off oddly from his tongue. He hadn't spoken French in what felt like ages, let alone English.
Silence fell between them, the foreign man seemingly at a loss for words. Sighing, Leon got up on his feet and finally turned to face his opponent for the very first time.
The man's uniform confirmed him as an enemy soldier, alright. He was taller and had a slightly bigger build. Leon could make out tufts of unruly sandy blonde hair peeking out from beneath the soldier's helmet. Another defining feature was his icy blue eyes, glaring straight at the Frenchman before him.
Leon especially found it striking that the soldier wasn't even aiming his rifle at him. He was cradling the firearm diagonally across his chest, the muzzle raised above his left shoulder. The sleeves of his jacket were rolled back to expose well-defined forearms.
"Don't— don't be alarmed." Leon tried assuring him. "I'm holding no arms. I don't want to fight. See?" He gestured towards his clothesline and scattered equipment.
His opponent's eyes darted around the site before scrutinizing Leon from top to bottom. Eventually, he lowered his rifle with some hesitation.
"How ludicrous," The soldier scoffed without much bite. "The men from my company were fools, the lot of them. But I've never met anyone as reckless as you." Judging from his accent, the man was nowhere akin to the American soldiers Leon saw in the field.
"I," Leon struggled to come up with a witty remark on his own. "I'm alone."  he blurted out.
That was a nonsensical response if he were to go with the man's confounded expression. After a long, awkward pause, the gentleman cleared his throat.
"That makes the two of us, then." He set the weapon down and let it rest by his leg.
Relieved, Leon straightened back and rested a hand on his hip. The man seemed trustworthy, at least for now. All he had to do now was play the gracious host.
Until he kills me or leaves on his own, I guess.
"So," he cheerfully piped, mustering all his remaining charisma. "Are you hungry? I don't have much, but please help yourself." He invited the soldier to his makeshift encampment. "Do you still have rations?"
The soldier smiled wryly. "No. I was down to two bars when I came down to that wreckage. Was planning to loot some supplies, but there you were, an enemy soldier." He grumbled in laborious breaths. "I had been sustaining myself on those bars and some water those whole three days I followed you."
"How did you manage?"
"Fed on sheer anger." The Englishman flashed a smirk. "I was so jealous seeing you munching on those bars without a care in this bloody, shithole of a world. Hell, I was eager to shoot you right then and there before stripping you of every last protein bar you have."
Leon burst into a laugh, startling the poor soldier a second time.
His laughter rang loud and free, and Leon didn't care. It was a sign that maybe, just maybe, there was still hope after all these wretched months spent hungry and desolate.
The man peered at him with astonished, yet curious eyes.
"Pardon me," Leon apologized after his laughter died down. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at you. Um, I think I did not catch your name."
"Wellesley. Arthur Wellesley," He introduced himself with poise. "Second Lieutenant of the Royal Irish Regiment, 1st Battalion."
"Nice to meet you, Wellesley," The Frenchman stuck out his hand. "Bonaparte. Corporal Napoleon Bonaparte. But ranks no longer mean anything, no?" he grinned. "Call me Leon."
"Likewise," Wellesley accepted his handshake. " 'Arthur' is alright. Or call me Wells," the man muttered with a light blush on his cheeks. "That's what the blokes from my old regiment called me."
Leon nodded, standing back and regarding his new friend appreciatively.
"So, then, Wells." His emerald eyes glinted with newfound spirit. "What shall we do next?"
So with a 1, 2, 3, we will pick up our feet
Forgetting yesterday and every day, they don't mean a thing
Another 1, 2, 3, don't stop moving your feet
I'm sure that's all that we, that's all that we need.
Tumblr media
Notes:
Made for Day 2 of Napoleon Birthday Prompt 2020 by @kissmetwicekissmedeadly .The lyrics I put in the ending are taken from this English cover of an anime OP. 
Also, Napoleon could've just gone with "Leon" instead of "Napoleone". It's less conspicuous for a nickname and it would suit him just fine.
17 notes · View notes
lyrishadow · 3 years
Text
Maw
Prompt 8: “Not doing that again” Fandom: Mass Effect Title: Maw Pairing: Egan Shepard / Kaidan Alenko ( a friendship) Rating: T (teen and up) Warnings/Tags: thresher maw, indications of PTSD
 Introducing Egan Shepard, my earthborn, soul survivor. 
They had been on the planet for half an hour, following maps from the Normandy's scans. Checking on anomalies and signals. "Commander, no offense but do you have your license on earth?" Kaidan was bracing himself against the roof of the mako. Tali was happily sitting, strapped tightly into her seat. Almost enjoying the rough ride, gazing in rapture at the scenery. "No." Egan grinned as Kaidan grimaced " I'm kidding, sheesh, I have my license, I'm also mako certified, its just these hills mess with.." The mako lurched.
"Ah shit." Egan forgot he had been  trying to impress Tali by not swearing in front of her, "Thresher maw!" Some instant maneuvering made the mako safer. Egan was pale as he angled back around. "One of you, fire that damn turret." "On it." Kaidan fired the large gun as Egan dodged the thresher maw. 
Back around, and again they went, Egan uncharacteristically silent as they fought. Finally the Maw lay dead. Egan stopped the mako and climbed out of the vehicle falling on his knees on the ground. "Shepard?" Tali asked Kaidan who shook his head frowning with concern as Shephard sat trying to recover, still on his knees on the ground. "Let me see, be back in a bit."  Kaidan followed his commanding officer out of the mako. "Shepard?" No response "Commander Shepard?"
"Damn thresher maws…" Egan  finally looked up, he was paler than Kaidan had thought "I thought i was okay until right about now. Still its dead and I'm alive." "You seem shaken?" "Yeah, reminded of Akuze." Kaidan's eyes widened as he put two and two together. "Well, you survived that." "Not doing that again." Egan exhaled "not losing my squad." "We are fine too,  Commander."  Egan gestured at the signal, and dead marines. "Shut it down. Trace the damn thing if you can." "Commander?" |"Those are Admiral Kahoku's men." Egan dry wretched then, Kaidan was next to him in an instant. 
"You need to focus." Kaidan knew that Shepard had joined the dots  - the same people behind the signal here were behind Akuze. Too real for the man to not feel it, the sight of dead marines, and the large drooling body of a thresher maw. Kaidan tried to remember how he had been trained to help, he didn’t want to abandon his friend even to do the things that were needed. "Shepard?" Tali had decided to join them. She assessed the situation and nodded. "Kaidan, turn off the signal, collect the tags. Shepard and I will wait here."  Kaidan nodded, Tali had given him a good solution, he could deal with the situation and Tali could sit with Shepard.  "Sorry Tali, this isn't what I meant when I said excitement," Egan looked at the Quarrian girl, she was someone he admired and respected.  "Every moment on a planet is exciting." She told him, sitting down in the dirt next to him " this entire trip is a bigger adventure than I imagined." "Thresher maw are my Achilles heal …" Egan rubbed his neck. "You have a problem with your heal?" "An old earth saying, it means weak spot." Egan tried to smile, but still felt sick. "Then we all have aching heals," Tali replied, not quite catching the right word "so take the time you need." "Thanks Tali, I appreciate it." Her attempts to distract him were working he realized, which further strengthened him. "I think Kaidan is nearly done." "The signal isn't sophisticated, whoever set it intended it as a lure." "Yeah, well, it worked." Kaidan returned his hands filled with tags. "Ok Commander?" "Getting there. What a waste." He gestured at the tags "Surely there are better things to do than lure  soldiers to their death." "Here." Tali offered " let me put them in the secure box."  Kaidan handed over the tags and Tali headed back to the mako. 
"Commander how are you going? Need a hand?" Kaidan offered his hand to help Egan to his feet. "Thanks." Egan nodded accepting the offered hand "your help is appreciated." "Permission to speak freely Sir?" " Never need to ask, Alenko, you have my trust that you pick the right times." Egan nodded all the same. "I think you should leave your reaction out of the report." "I…" Egan paused, they already said he was a risk, if they knew he had lost it? "what if something more happens? Or this again?"  "I don't believe what you did jeopardized the mission in any way or took anything away from it. Shepard, you know I'm by the book." Egan nodded, maybe Kaidan had a point. What would it add to the report anyhow? Ultimately the maw was dead, they were alive, and the Admiral's men were accounted for. Time to head back to the Normandy, mission complete.
4 notes · View notes
honeystone-fashion · 5 years
Text
Once Upon a Soul: pt 2 - The Ball
FIVE YEARS LATER….
 Life wasn’t as easy living among royalty as one would think. Daria was seen as an abomination, in the eyes of the people she was the most misbehaved Princess they’d ever seen and behind closed doors she was treated to dark looks, insults and even abuse from those inside the castle walls staff and family alike.
The biggest perpetrator of this was her stepmother, Daria never knew peace from her stepmother’s constant insults and jabs at her, the only thing that kept her from running long ago was the thought of Feliks and her mother. Daria felt more alone in the castle than she’d ever felt before in her entire life.
When she turned Sixteen was when everything changed, just as her stepmother said they were starting to look for suitors for her, a ball was going to be held to present her to suitors and Daria had never been so intimidated in all of her life
“What subjects are you allowed to discuss with gentlemen suitors?” her stepmother questioned as Daria stood on a stool being fitted for her dress
“I can discuss weather, how beautiful the night is, I should not discuss politics and if I can avoid discussing my own family dynamics I should If not I should lie.” Daria said in a rehearsed way holding her  arms out for the seamstress to start working on the sleeves of the pale blue dress it was beautiful and Daria liked it but she was worried all the same, she had heard quite a few bad things about other royals some of them she knew had multiple wives, some of them were even crueler than her new family seemed to be and nothing seemed to comfort any of Daria’s fears.
Daria was feeling the pressure on her shoulders, it was a lot to rest on a sixteen year old shoulders knowing that she held the lives of her mother and who she now considered her father as opposed to her real one, she missed them terribly and knew that all of this was going to be just the start of her living hell. “Get down you’re finished.” Her stepmother commanded snapping her fingers like Daria was just another one of her dogs Daria kept her eyes down as she changed back to her regular clothing. She waited for her stepmother to dismiss her, feeling that piercing gaze on her, last time she had tried to leave before being dismissed she had so many bruises on her arms that they hadn’t gone for a week.
Her stepmother glared at her with distaste and tugged at a loose lock of Daria’s hair, Daria flinched as her stepmother fixed it with a dark look “Wretched child, how dare you present yourself like this to your future queen.” She hissed and Daria bit her lip, but she nodded
“I-I’ll do better,” She promised Her stepmother dismissed her pushing her towards the door and Daria hurried away, she hurried to her one place of sanctuary, Daria had been exploring one day about a year ago and discovered a loose brick by the library, it had opened up a room into a stair case and there was an old room it was filled with pretty things that were covered in dust and obviously had been long since forgotten but to Daria she knew it as a peaceful place. She would often sneak to the library and borrow some books then she would take them up there and sit in the window watching outside, from there she could see everything of the castle grounds below her, all the time she wished that her mother could see the view and wished her and Feliks happiness. She dreamed they’d have kids like her, they’d find a nice little cottage like the one Daria and her mother had when they were small and hopefully her mother would forget the pain of losing her and Daria knew it was terrible to think but she hoped that her mother and Feliks would forget her. If anything happened to her, she knew it would devastate her mother so she hoped that it meant they could move on at the same time however what would the king do to them if anything did happen to her? Daria wasn’t sure she would have to worry about that much longer anyway, the king had been growing gravely ill lately and word among the staff was that he wouldn’t make it to the end of the month, something that had her Stepmother very interested. Daria feared what would happen when her Stepmother became queen, the woman was crueler and more ruthless than any woman Daria had ever met, and she couldn’t fathom why she would be that way.
When the ball finally came Daria was frightened from the idea of it all, she was presented to everyone and she was told that she had to dance with every available suitor and make polite conversation with them. Daria hated the entire thing, being looked at like cattle at the auction block but at least cattle didn’t have to stand practically pressed chest to chest with old drunken men with dead eyes that showed only one interest as she attempted not to meet them.
One of these dignitaries was slipping his hand dangerously low when he suddenly froze to his spot and Daria looked up to see what was wrong only to see a familiar face that seemed to make the entire thing worth it
“May I cut in?” Feliks asked a knife pressed into the dignitary’s back and the man only gave a panicked nod releasing the princess and scurrying away to lick his wounds as Feliks slipped the knife back into his sleeve and bowed gracefully to Daria
“Don’t look so thrilled, your new mum won’t appreciate your smiles.” Feliks warned her and Daria nodded remembering herself as she held her hand out for Feliks to take and the two glided across the floor
“What are you doing here?” Daria asked him softly as they moved with the steps and Feliks smiled at her “When your mother realized you would be eligible for marriage she was horrified at the thought that one of these lecherous pigs would get his hands on you, so I thought I’d come help thin the crowd, after all I do still hold some standing in the guards here.” Feliks told her with a wink and Daria couldn’t help her smile when she had her back to her ever-watching stepmother.
When the song ended Feliks released her and gave a bow before vanishing into the crowd of dignitaries, the rest of the evening was odd even for Daria’s sake, it seemed like any man who she was worried about would start to approach her and become stricken with fear before excusing himself and hurrying away Daria did meet some fascinating young men about her age though some seemed very nice others a bit pompous and Daria noted that those ones also seemed to disappear shortly after they had begun to annoy her. When the Ball ended Daria found herself a lot more relieved as she bid goodbye to the very last of her guests though she was bothered by the fact that she’d never spotted Feliks amongst the guests again, perhaps he had left early? Daria supposed that she hadn’t actually seen him after their dance and wondered if that was because he had worked his magic in scaring off her suitors or perhaps he had gotten some of his friends that may still be on the guard squad to help with that.
None the less Daria supposed she shouldn’t worry so much about it, Feliks was clever and bright she hardly ever worried about him. Daria was relieved to know that he had been there, Daria was headed for her room thinking she was dismissed when she was seized by the arm by her step mother and Daria saw the dark look in her eyes as she dragged the poor girl down the corridors, Daria protested the tight grip on her wrist, digging her heels in as she attempted to stave off her step mother’s wrath as she was dragged into a room  where the guards sat with their swords crossed at a horribly battered and beaten Feliks and Daria felt her gut wrench as she stared wide eyed
“Do you know him?” her stepmother asked Daria looked from Feliks to her and back, she could see the look in Feliks eyes, knowing he wanted her to say no but she also knew that if she said no that they’d kill him likely for breaking and entering
“Y-Yes,” she said her step mother backhanded her and the sound echoed in the room as Daria staggered back catching herself on a large arm chair and her eyes welled with tears as Feliks pulled at the chains that now bound him straining to see if she was alright “H-He’s a friend of father’s, when I lived with My mother he looked after us and-and he still does” Daria said quickly her stepmother seized her by the front of her dress and pulled her in close and Daria felt fear grip her down to her soul as if she was looking in the eyes of a demon
“How dare you summon him, sabotage my hard work to get a proper marriage proposal after everything I’ve done for you.” She hissed before she looked to the guards and Daria could only watch helpless and horrified as the guard drew his sword back and ran it straight through Feliks chest, Daria screamed drawing in her father who watched and for the first time Daria had known him showed any sign of horror at seeing his friend dead before him as Daria sobbed falling to her knees
“Take her to her room,” Her stepmother ordered not even flinching as she looked from the body to the guards “And clean this mess up, send a message to her mother for the loss of her new love.”
The guards took hold of Daria’s arms and dragged her back to her room, the young girl felt numb from the inside out as she was locked in her room and Daria could only sob, it was her fault she should have known. She should have made Feliks leave the moment she saw him and now her poor mother had not only lost her but had lost Feliks as well.
“Poor, sweet Daria.”
1 note · View note
pengiesama · 7 years
Text
A Reasonable Amount of Trouble (Fic, Sorey/Mikleo, Detective AU, Chapter 1/?)
Title: A Reasonable Amount of Trouble, Chapter 1/? Series: Tales of Zestiria Pairing: Sorey/Mikleo Summary: Sorey is an experienced member of the supernatural detective division, the Shepherds, but is a fresh face to the city squad when an unexpected transfer lands him in Lastonbell. Things tend to get complicated when you realize that hot hookup from the bar last night is now your new partner on the force. (Detective AU)
Link: AO3
This was a commission from @shamingcows, who requested fic from her fantastic Detective AU!
Check out my commission info here.
Read on Tumblr!
--
Lastonbell wasn’t a bad assignment.
A major metro center, it was a city known for the arts, theater, and music – and all the accompanying drama that came with it. A writer, wretched with rejection letters, going hellion in the streets; a seraph, strung out on the torrid emotions of starving artists, going missing and turning up a week later rampaging through the commercial district wearing scales. Organized crime rings, trafficking drugs and bodies both, occasionally facing off against each other in the streets.
Sure, it didn’t have the glitz and glamour of Pendrago. But Sorey had gotten too comfortable with the detective beat in Ladylake, and welcomed the change of scenery – but mostly he welcomed the change in local attractions and historical points of interest. When he wasn’t being wined and dined (more like boozed and burgered) by his local friends as part of his farewell festivities, he was scrolling through Lastonbell food and travel blogs and devouring every book about the city’s lengthy history he could get his hands on. These research efforts had a predictable effect on Sorey’s packing efforts, and on the eve of his big move, he had to sheepishly call in a favor to Rose to enlist her help in getting the remainder of his apartment into boxes.
(“I helped you and Alisha move into your place,” Sorey pointed out in response to Rose’s endless griping, over the sounds of packing tape and clattering plates.
“I bought you pizza and beer!” Rose countered. “That debt was paid in full! Man, how many books do you have!? You owe me a night bar-crawling in Lastonbell for this. While I wear a crown. And you’re carrying me on one of those fancy back carriage thingies.”
“Palanquin,” Sorey informed her.
“Gesundheit,” Rose blessed him.)
Now that he was in Lastonbell, there was the matter of getting his apartment out of the boxes. Sorey flopped down heavily on one of the few open spots on his couch, and brought out his phone. He’d had a long day, and maybe it was time for him to make use of his extensive city research to check out some of the local bars.
He scrolled through some of the blog posts he had bookmarked, and landed on a name – The Katz Pajamas. It looked way…louder than the bars he tended to frequent. And definitely had a certain vibe to it. A certain vibe that Sorey, stressed and lonely in this big new city, could maybe appreciate tonight.
 --
 Sorey didn’t usually go for casual encounters, much less one-night stands. Even if someone checked all his boxes for physical attraction, he just generally wasn’t interested in anonymous sex with someone he barely knew. There was also the matter of common ground – normal “pickup talk” conversation bored Sorey to tears, and he wasn’t naïve enough to think that most people (or even some people, or a few people) would be interested in what archaeology journals he was reading, or wanted to rant with him about that badly-researched documentary he caught on Netflix the night before.
But there was always an exception to be had, wasn’t there? Especially as a stranger in a strange land.
Which sums up how Sorey wound up with his cock buried hilt-deep inside a guy he picked up at the bar.
His name was Mikleo, and he was a regular at the club, had great taste in books, and was absolutely stunning. He was tall; almost a head taller than Sorey, who was no slouch himself. He had a slim build; light enough for Sorey to pick up and throw onto his bed with ease, with slender wrists just the right size for Sorey’s hands to wrap around. He had legs for days; they were previously showcased in a pair of tight jeans, and were currently wrapped around Sorey’s waist. His eyes were a deep and fascinating violet, his hair was long and wavy white, frosted with pale aquamarine streaks, and – Sorey noted, as he slid a hand through it, prompting Mikleo to damn near purr at the feeling – was just about the softest thing he’d ever felt. Sorey had never gotten with a seraph before, and with how this encounter was going, he wondered why the hell that was.
The second he stepped into the club and had his eyes adjust to the low light, he’d spotted Mikleo at the bar, chatting with the bartender like an old friend. Dumbstruck with how gorgeous he looked in the colored lights and running on fumes and exhausted idiot courage after his long day of moving, Sorey slid up to him in a neighboring seat, and struck up a conversation. About five minutes in, Mikleo was laughing at Sorey’s dumb pickup lines in Ancient Avarost and buying him a drink to welcome him to the city, and Sorey realized that this was the best decision he’d made all day. About ten minutes in, as they crowed together about shitty movie adaptations of the restoration period, Sorey realized this was the best decision he’d made all week. About an hour in, as they ground on each other in the back of a taxi making its way back to Sorey’s place, Sorey realized that he really should have tried harder to unpack, and was about to hook up with a beautiful stranger amidst a maze of cardboard boxes. For his part, Mikleo almost seemed charmed by it all – or at least was too polite to do more than laugh as Sorey scooped him up and carried him bravely through the debris and into his bedroom to ravish him.
Sorey hadn’t really gotten much action since his last relationship about six months back, but managed to last longer than he thought he would with such a mind-blowingly sexy partner. From the look on Mikleo’s face as Sorey carefully pulled out of him, he’d given Mikleo a great ride as well – which was good, as Sorey wanted to at least make Mikleo’s efforts in putting up with his cardboard kingdom worthwhile. Sorey removed his condom and wrapped it in a tissue, and leaned in to kiss Mikleo deeply before he got up to clean up in the bathroom. The smile Mikleo gave to him in return just about killed his desire to leave the bed. Sorey leaned back in for another kiss.
Then another.
Then another.
In the end, Sorey wound up climbing Mikleo like a tree one more time before they collapsed into unconsciousness. The next morning, he wished he had more to offer his houseguest hottie than coffee and a muffin from the chain across the street, but Mikleo took the gift with the same good grace that he put up with Sorey’s bad jokes last night. Sorey really, really wanted to ask him to hang around while he went off to check in at his new station, but couldn’t justify asking him to; not with his apartment…the way it was. Mikleo bid him good luck and farewell, sweeping that silky hair of his over one shoulder as he bent down for a last, long kiss. Belatedly, as he creaked his way out of the taxi and into the station, his whole body aching from moving strain and from screwing Mikleo like his life depended on it, he realized that he hadn’t asked for Mikleo’s number. Sorey’s heart twisted a bit with disappointment.
It was the appeal of one-night stands, he supposed. You meet a gorgeous, brilliant guy, hump his brains out, and then never see him again. No strings. No expectations. Nothing but fun, pleasure, and the lingering memory of Mikleo’s smile burning in his brain like embers.
Sorey hung around the station for a little while, getting his new hire paperwork and greetings out of the way – he had been hoping to meet his new partner, but had been told he was taking a long weekend and would probably be next in the coming week. Sorey supposed it was a blessing in disguise. He was still more than a little cranky from exhaustion, more than a little homesick for Ladylake, and more than a little hung up on a hookup that he had no right to be hung up on. He probably wasn’t in much of a state to be making good impressions on coworkers.
As he headed out for the day, his shoulder devil whispered to him to go back to The Katz Pajamas. Great plan, that – nurse drinks for a few hours, lurk like a creep, and skulk off into the night when Mikleo inevitably didn’t show. His shoulder angel told him to go to the grocery store, pick up some real food, and spend the night and the rest of the weekend unpacking. Sorey hung his head, listened to his shoulder angel’s admonitions, and went to pick up some kitchen supplies.
Well, the joke was on his shoulder angel, because he ran into Mikleo again at the store.
Sorey fell too hard, too fast in his relationships. Thus, he was so bad at one-night stands. So horribly bad. He saw this character flaw of his and tried to keep himself under control, but oh, his heart was singing as he saw Mikleo blinking at him across the freezer section. He looked just as beautiful under the florescent grocery store lights, dressed in a comfy oversized sweater over a button-up, as he did in the neon club dressed in skintight pants and a black choker.
What, exactly, was hookup etiquette in a situation such as this? Was it jogging over to where Mikleo was looking at ice cream bars, striking up a conversation with him, and after another half-hour of wonderful conversation, inviting him back to his cardboard kingdom? Was it popping a boner in the middle of the store like a teenager when Mikleo smirked at him and picked up a 24-pack of condoms from the shelf, and tossed it into his basket next to the ice cream?
This, in fact, was probably not hookup etiquette in any sense of the word. But it netted Sorey another night with Mikleo.
And then a whole day with him, lounging in bed, eating Mikleo’s ice cream bars as they watched documentaries together, idly discussing and debating, Sorey’s head in Mikleo’s lap, trying not to purr as Mikleo pet his hair.
They didn’t leave bed that whole weekend, and Sorey got zero unpacking done, and kind of felt like his dick was going to fall off from using it to nail Mikleo in every position he could. But by god, Sorey didn’t regret a single moment of any of it. As he and Mikleo finally said their farewells to each other early Monday morning, Sorey felt like he was walking on air. Mikleo still had to get back to his place, change, and head off to work, all with Sorey’s hickies marking up his neck, but Sorey now had his number tucked safely into his phone, and a sly little suggestion from Mikleo that they could meet up again sometime if Sorey ever got bored. Sorey dreamily stared at his contact in his phone as the subway rumbled toward the station, his thoughts full of the books he wanted to loan to him, the museums he wanted to visit with him, the things he wanted to keep doing to that firm, tight little ass of his.
The whole weekend combined made it really awkward when the station chief introduced Sorey to his partner on the Shepherd detective force, the seraph specialist Mikleo.
 --
 So, he had had a one-night stand, or rather a one-weekend ice cream-and-debauchery fest, with his now-coworker. Sorey knew that dating at work was bad news, and constantly had to overhear gossip on the latest drama about office hookups in the break room at his old station in Ladylake. He’d thought he was above it all, but alas – karma was a bitch, and it was paying him back by banishing him to the realm of sexual limbo. What had seemed like a sure thing, a great way to start off his life in a new city, now seemed too awkward to even consider as they rolled out in a squad car to investigate their first case.
Sorey couldn’t bear the silence any longer.
“Listen. I am so sorry I didn’t mention where I was going to be working, it’s just, some people get on edge when I say I’m on the force, so I didn’t really want to--”
“It’s fine,” Mikleo said, shortly. “Just – don’t worry about it.”
Sorey managed to stay silent for a few minutes. He did not manage to not worry about it.
“It’s just, we’re going to be working together now, and I had such a great time, I really did, and I don’t want to make things awkward between us--”
“We’re here,” Mikleo informed him. He threw the car into park and unbuckled himself, trying and failing not to look at the wretched look on Sorey’s face. “…listen. I had a great time too, and I don’t blame you for anything. But let’s just focus on the case for now, okay?”
“Yeah…yeah,” Sorey agreed.
The case itself was a pretty standard one. There had been a rash of hellionizations in the area, all producing a certain kind of hellion – goblins, who had an appetite for theft and property vandalism, and also illegal street racing. As was covered in basic Shepherd training, certain types of malevolence tended to create specific breeds of hellion. Goblin hellions grew from turbulent greed and raw gluttony, and the number of cases plus the profile of the area the cases were centered in pointed toward drug-related activity. Lastonbell was a big city, and big cities had drug trafficking problems. And drug trafficking problems led to goblin street races.
“We’ve been making some arrests in the area recently,” Mikleo explained. “All straightforward purify-and-process. Some have had intel on mob activity in the area, but nothing our undercover informants haven’t already gotten us. We’re closing in on the distributors who are likely operating in the area, but we’ll have to monitor to make sure more don’t move in when we take down the current big dogs.”
Nothing Sorey hadn’t already seen in Ladylake. He knew the ins and outs of Ladylake’s streets and back alleys better though, and that made it way easier to break up these goblin races when they went down. He also hadn’t fucked his investigative partner in Ladylake. Lots of new things to consider in his new home.
A commotion interrupted that line of thought – the telltale hooting, hollering, clattering wheels, and cannonball fire of a goblin street race. At the sight of the squad car, they abruptly changed routes down an alleyway. Mikleo smirked and jumped out of the car.
“Right on time,” he said. “Hope you’re up for a chase.”
“You’re on,” Sorey replied, giving him a cheeky little grin.
Mikleo took off like a shot, his long legs and knowledge of the area giving him a solid lead on Sorey. Sorey felt his heart flutter, and not just because of the thrill of the chase. He was so, so bad at hookups.
 --
 Well, the good news was that they caught the speed demons, and the purification process went smoothly. No surprises there – a bunch of petty street punks were no match for Sorey’s knack for purification; the silver flames leaping from his blade and streaking across the ground to burn the taint from their flesh, mind, and souls. He’d been informed his partner was the sharpest shot in the precinct, and he’d lived up to the reputation already; shooting out a wheel axel from one racer, sending him careening into another, setting off a panic among the riders that allowed Sorey to commandeer one of the perps’ carts and ride it, flaming sword held high, rattling and clattering through the streets, his own mighty chariot of justice.
It got results. A crew of beat cops was helping them load the purified perps into a transport car, and a tow truck was on its way to pick up the wrecked carts. That being said, it was clear Mikleo was furious with him about the whole chariot of justice thing, and he wouldn’t even look at Sorey as he read off his report over the radio.
“A half dozen gobblecarters in the slammer in one shot,” one of the beat cops said, admiring. He offered a paw to Sorey to shake. “Not bad for a rookie! Put ‘er there, champ.”
“Hey, I graduated academy five years ago. You’re looking at a seasoned pro, here,” Sorey said. However, he knelt to accept the handshake. “This isn’t even my biggest haul.”
“You tryin’ to impress me or your boyfriend there?” laughed the cop. Mikleo continued to ignore them both. “Don’t look like he’s swayed. Maybe bring in some werewolf pelts and he’ll let you take him out on the town.”
Sorey rumpled the cop’s beret until his paws came up to swipe at him.
“’ey! Knock that off or I’ll report you to HR. Don’t think you special ops bozos get the privilege to touch this fine headgear.”
Leaving the beat cops to coordinate cleanup and transport, Mikleo and Sorey began to make their way back to where they parked the car. Sorey scratched his neck, wincing at Mikleo’s silent treatment.
“…I’ll take care of the paperwork?” Sorey offered.
“I’m sure Captain Strelka will be ecstatic to read it,” Mikleo said dryly. “‘Dear Captain, today I nearly made my partner shoot me by bowling into his line of fire, riding atop essential evidence, streaking through the streets like a flaming comet.’”
“You’re a flaming comet,” retorted Sorey. Mikleo was confused into silence, mouth twisting into a pout, one eyebrow arching. It would be a problem if his partner was this cute, and this easy to rile up. It would be a big problem.
They slid into the squad car, and Sorey yawned and stretched, priding himself on his efforts to not flop one arm around Mikleo’s shoulders.
“But it’s not a bad haul for my first day, you’ve got to admit,” Sorey said. “Can I drive?”
“Not a chance,” Mikleo said, turning on the engine without missing a beat.
Sorey’s eyes were bright with exhilaration. “I think, as my senior, you’ve gotta take it upon yourself to familiarize me with the city. I need to get the lay of the land, you know? Why don’t we go out to the belltower tonight; I’ve always wanted to see it in person.”
Mikleo scoffed. “The belltower? Sure, if you want people to think you’re a tourist.”
“Well,” Sorey drawled. “Would a Lastonbell native instead prefer to be taken out to the exhibition on Avarost-era sculpture at the Historical Art Center?”
“No, a native would more prefer to hit the bar district and then heckle the pretentious performance artists in the college town. But I on the other hand have been meaning to see that exhibit anyway.” Mikleo got them on the road to the station. “As long as it’s not too late when you’re finished with your paperwork back at the station, you can tag along, I guess. And if you can pass a city map test.”
Sorey pumped his fist. Lucky for him, he’d always been good at geography.
5 notes · View notes