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ca6b7c0a81ab4ef5b431f34a86d28e46 | ['a20d6daa18e0446ab562d0832cd8763b'] | Hollander grunted and stood up immediately. "What an excellent idea, Mr. Cassidy – Lee, I mean. No need to bore these two with our business talk."
"No indeed," agreed Lee, watching in amusement as Amanda lifted a hand and waved him goodbye with a slight shooing motion without ever breaking her gaze from the other man. As they left, Amanda reached forward to rest her hand on top of Delano's and Lee heard her start to speak.
"James… do you believe in reincarnation? Because I really think we might have met in a previous life…"
Stifling a grin, he gestured for Hollander to precede him to the bar where they both ordered a scotch – Lee's with ice, Hollander's without.
"I don't know why you Americans insist on ruining it that way," said Hollander gruffly.
"Well, I learned to drink it like this at my daddy's knee and never knew any better," explained Lee cheerfully. "But let's not waste time, Mr. Hollander – do you think you could get my company the same kind of 'access' over the Wall as you've gotten for our friend over there?"
They both glanced over at the table, Lee's hand gripping his scotch a little more tightly as he watched Delano's finger trail along Amanda's jaw before forcing himself to turn back and look at Hollander again.
"Well, you know how it is, Leland," said Hollander. "I'm sure I could find friends interested in getting a face-to-face conversation with the mysterious President of Dynamica Industries." There was something belligerent in his look that Lee knew meant he still didn't quite believe Lee was who he said he was and that he needed to double down.
"Well, I can get my people down here from New York at a moment's notice if you think we have a chance of setting anything up," he said with the blustering confidence he knew he needed here.
"Could you?" asked Hollander, a note of doubt creeping into his voice at how brazenly he was willing to offer up proof. "You must want this very badly."
Lee leaned in and lowered his voice to a confidential tone. "To be honest, my Board of Directors is very keen that we find some new sources of income and the future obviously lies on the other side of the Iron Curtain. There's money to be made by this latest Russian incursion into Afghanistan – and my board isn't fussy about which side we make that money from, if you catch my drift."
"So you will supply whichever side pays you the most?"
"And can keep the quietest about it," answered Lee. "Everyone wants defense companies to do well for their stock investments but no one ever wants to know how dirty their hands are, do they?"
"No, they don't," agreed Hollander studying him. "You know, the Cassidy name has always had a reputation for integrity – I'm surprised to hear you talk like this."
"Well, my father lived in easier times when you could afford that kind of luxury, but I…, well I have expensive tastes…" he glanced over at Amanda meaningfully, wishing he hadn't when he watched Delano's hand sliding along her thigh, and he knew his face must have reflected that when he turned to find Hollander looking at him with a raised brow. He lifted his hand to rub roughly under his nose and gave a theatrical sniff. "Speaking of which, if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to hit the powder room, if you catch my drift." He patted his chest pocket with a chuckle. "Perhaps when I come back and I'm a little more… refreshed… perhaps we could discuss this further?"
"Yes," said Hollander, not even hiding his disgust at Lee's hints about a cocaine habit. "I think we could both gain something from further discussion."
Lee gave him the thumbs up and turned to walk off to the back of the restaurant.
"Mens' room. Now, fast," he muttered down at his tie as he walked.
It was only a minute, maybe less before Francine's head poked into the mens' room, where Lee was leaning on the counter, waiting for her, scowl on his face.
"My God, Scarecrow," she grinned. "I wish we could have you both miked up. Between your coke habit and Amanda's nymphomania, this is like the best telenovela I've ever watched."
Lee gave a snorting laugh. "I never pegged you for the soap opera type, Francine."
"Shhh, our little secret," she laughed, then pointed at his tie. "Just you, me, Efraim and anyone who listens to these tapes."
"Yeah, well, this isn't soap opera, this is the real thing," he scowled. "Can you get me some names from the Dynamica board that I can drop into conversation? Get Sammy to drop me a note during dinner or something, maybe?"
"Already on it," said Francine. "Efraim started pulling up stuff the minute you started in with Hollander. And there's at least one that's going to make you _very_ happy…"
Just at that moment, the door handle rattled and Lee grabbed Francine to pull her in for a long kiss. They separated after a few seconds to find Hollander standing in the doorway staring at them slack-jawed.
"Jeez," said Lee, rubbing his nose forcefully again and letting his eyes dart everywhere like a man caught mid-crime, while keeping Francine pulled close. "Can't a guy get any privacy around here? Come on, Honey – let's go somewhere quieter and continue this." They pushed their way past a stunned Hollander and headed out the back door to the parking lot.
The minute they were out the door, Lee released her and lost all the crazy look. "Okay, start from the top - what have you got? And hurry up – I gotta get back there before that guy gets any more handsy with Amanda."
"Like I said – good news," answered Francine and began to fill him in.
7. Now Listen Here, Son | 7bdd6fbad5f24d9da5ce88410050675c | ['a20d6daa18e0446ab562d0832cd8763b'] | "AMANDA!" he yelled at the retreating pair. "GET DOWN!" He had barely taken a step towards them as Amanda and Penny whirled at the sound of his voice. In that split second, he heard the shot ring out, Amanda's eyes widened in shock and then she was falling, pulling the princess to the ground as she collapsed, hand outstretched to him as he began to run.
3. A Royal Appointment
Amanda and Penelope hit the ground, tangled together, both giving off yelps of pain as bare arms, elbows and shoulders hit the rough brick surface. Lee could hear the explosion of voices around him, the royal security guards calling out in Zakirian as they raced to the scene, Francine calling orders at a full military volume voice that brooked no questions, but he never took his eyes off the two darks heads in front of him. It could only have been five seconds between the shot and his arrival at Amanda's side but it seemed like an eternity.
Uncertain whether the shooter had been stopped, he swooped down to try and cover both women with his body, realizing as he did so that someone else was attempting the same thing. He looked around desperate for cover, feeling a surge of relief when he realized there was some close by.
"Get them into the pool house!" he gasped and his companion nodded.
"I have Penelope, you get her friend!"
In a matter of heartbeats, he had Amanda up in his arms, turning to follow the man carrying the princess, who was protesting loudly that she did not need to be carried and demanding to be put down. Once safely under the cover of the pool house, he put Amanda down in a chair and began to run his hands over her trying to figure out where she'd been wounded. She was squeaking in pain and batting his hands away.
"Amanda! Where are you hurt?" he snapped at her.
"My ankle" she answered, bending down to try and rub it.
"He shot you in the ankle?" Lee couldn't believe any hitman could have had such terrible aim but thank God he had.
"No, he didn't shoot me in the ankle," Amanda was scolding him. "When you yelled, I turned around too fast and I fell off my shoe and twisted my ankle!" She smiled slightly as he rocked back on his heels and stared at her in complete confusion. "I told you it's been a while since I got dressed up – I don't think this is what my mother meant when she told me to have a high heel good time tonight."
"You fell off your shoe," he repeated slowly. "You. Fell. Off. Your. Shoe." She nodded in agreement. Lee stared at her for a moment, then down at the foot she was clutching. He didn't trust himself to look back up for a moment, afraid he would begin yelling at her in his relief.
"You may count your lucky stars for her clumsiness," said a voice beside them. Lee looked up as the man who had carried in the princess held up the scarf Amanda had had draped over her arms, and found himself staring at the neat hole where the bullet had passed through it. The relief fled, replaced by a feeling of nausea. The bullet couldn't have missed either woman by more than a few inches. He looked up further to meet the dark eyes of the other man who was looking as shocked as he felt.
"Your Highness!" he gasped as he realized his fellow rescuer was the Crown Prince. He scrambled to his feet and bowed briefly. "Is the princess alright?"
"I'm fine," said Penelope weakly. "Just bruised from the fall."
The prince had dropped to one knee in front of Amanda. "Mrs. King, this is the second time you have been there in time to help my wife. I do not know how to express my gratitude."
"Oh, well that's just silly," said Amanda laughing with embarrassment. "All I did was trip and fall – it was Mr. Stetson shouting that warning that really saved us."
In the next instant, Lee could see it hit her – she really had just been shot at. She went very pale and her eyes went very wide; he put a hand on her shoulder suddenly worried she might faint, and she lifted a hand to rest on top of his, her fingers far too cold for his liking.
"Nevertheless, you seem to be a lucky charm where Penelope is concerned," said the prince taking her free hand to kiss it. "In my country, such a friend is considered to be more valuable than diamonds."
_In this country too,_ thought Lee.
There was a scuffling sound at the door as someone pushed his way past the phalanx of Zakirian guards.
"Now come on, boys, y'all know who I am, now let me in there to check on the prince and princess!"
Three heads swiveled to see who was coming in, only Amanda, facing away from the door saw the look of distaste on Penelope's face and immediately shifted in her seat to see who had evoked it. |
52a10900b9704d778498c2e04d8ed25d | ['a21594efd4544ebdb9a2763918bfe39f'] | "Xena, I’m not going to argue with you all night but I will tell you that I feel quite well protected with you around. You know I’ve never felt safer anywhere else... You have protected me in the past. You will continue to protect me -–and the kids – in the future. I have faith in you Xena. You’re the only thing I’ve ever truly believed in. We traveled from one side of this world to the other searching for a sense of peace and understand. Funny thing is ... it was a wasted trip in a way because all I ever needed ... all I need now ... are your arms around me and your love."
Xena considered her words and Gabrielle felt like she was making a little head way with the warrior.
"Besides," Gabrielle began with a mischievous smirk, "... how many warriors can still fit into their leathers as well as they did ten years ago huh?" Gabrielle wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. She felt rewarded when she saw the warrior give a sincere grin. Xena begin to relax. It was a good sign.
"Thank you," Xena replied as she took Gabrielle’s hand in hers and kissed the knuckles.
"For what?... Telling it like it is?" Gabrielle smiled.
"Yes," Xena said smiling broad as well. "And for sharing this journey with me."
**Chapter 9**
_Pappas Estate, South Carolina 1957_
Janice opened the door of their bedroom. She was surprised to find it unlocked. As she tiptoed in she saw Mel’s head buried in a pillow.
"Mel honey," Janice began softly. "Don’t be mad. I didn’t try to upset you... I just... I opened my big mouth and put my foot in it like usual. I didn’t want to hurt you sweetheart. You gotta believe me Mel."
Mel sniffled and wiped her tears from her cheeks. "I know," Mel answered.
Janice breathed a soft sigh of relieve. ‘Went easier than I thought,’ she decided as she took a seat on the foot of the bed.
"You’re right," Mel replied. "I know that’s exactly what they will say to me. I guess I just hoped that ya’d like the idea and ya’d think I’d make a great mother." Mel began to whimper again. And Janice collected the large, shaking woman in her strong arms.
"Don’t ever doubt the faith I have in you," Janice said softly. "That’s not at all what I meant... I just didn’t want you to walk in and get your hopes up... I wanted you to be prepared for what may follow... That’s all sweetheart... As for being a mother well, I think you’d make a great one." Neither woman said a word until Janice quietly added, "It’s me that I’m really worried about."
Mel pulled back and faced Janice who began to play with a string on the bedspread. "What do ya mean Janice?"
"What do I mean?" Janice said, rising up and beginning to pace. "Look at me Mel I’m goin’ on 40 years old. I travel the world for my work. I can’t put a kid through that kind of life... Sure, it worked out alright for me but I missed things Mel. I never built any real friendships because we were always on the move."
"But ya didn’t just sit in a class room ‘hearin’ ‘bout history Janice... Ya lived it. Ya saw the coliseum instead of just readin’ about it."
"Yes that’s true and I guess for every ‘con’ I have you’ll throw a ‘pro’ right back at me won’t you?" Janice smiled. Mel simple nodded with a sly grin. "Can’t you let me brood even for a little while?" the digger chuckled.
"Nahh... " Mel teased. "I like to see that devilish grin, my angel."
Janice chuckled but the smile began to slip further from her face. Mel’s expression began to mimic her lovers. She was going to ask why Janice was becoming melancholy again but she didn’t get the chance.
"What if I become my mother?" Janice said softly. Mel could hear the pain from deep inside Janice’s words. "What if I realize I can’t cut it and I decide to split too?" Janice met Mel eye to eye.
Mel walked up to Janice and snaked her fingers through her blonde hair. "One word," the translator whispered. "... destiny."
She gave Janice a soul searing kiss before pulling away slowly, still savoring her lips.
"I’m serious," Janice said, trying to calm the disruptive energy Mel was sending through her body.
"So am I," Mel answered. "The first moment I saw ya Janice Covington ... I knew... ya were my destiny... And I know for a fact I’m yours... And with that... well... we can take on anything darlin’... ANYTHING... even motherhood," she added with a grin in place.
Janice pulled Mel tightly against her, feeling the warmth from the translators bosom, smelling her flowery perfume. "I don’t want to disappoint you Mel. I never want to let you down."
Mel ran her fingers over Janice’s hair. "You will disappoint me. You will let me down."
Janice started to pull away but Mel kept her firmly in place. "The reason... ," Mel answered. "is because when ya love someone ya open yer heart... and ya will get hurt from time to time... but if that love is true, then it will always prevail over all else. That’s what I feel Janice. You’re only human darlin’. We’ll BOTH make mistakes... but we’ll both love each other in this life and in the next... and that’s all that matters in the end."
Janice smiled. "Have I told you how much I love you recently?" she asked.
"Yes," Mel replied. "This morning in fact. When ya looked at me while I was searching for my shoes ... it told me everything in yer heart."
"The shoes," Janice drawled slyly starting to look down. | fdeebb32ac8f40589aed7fd23708f725 | ['a21594efd4544ebdb9a2763918bfe39f'] | Xena couldn’t help but smile.
“I hear someone’s trying to kill you,” Gabrielle interrupted in a voice that lacked any amusement. The flat tone of her voice made the grin fall from Xena’s lips.
Sappho turned to the bard. She released Xena gently. In a fluid movement, she had Gabrielle pinned against the bar with an arm placed on either side of her so she couldn’t leave. Gabrielle looked left and then right for an escape, but she was trapped. The only place she could look was deeply into the poetess equally green eyes.
“This is soooo…trippy,” Sappho said. “It’s like a living mirror. It’s uncanny, Dite. You were right. She’s… me!” she laughed.
Sappho started to get a wicked grin. She snuggled into Gabrielle’s shoulder, and turned them so they both faced Xena.
“Just think, Xena – two for the price of one tonight,” she said as she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Tell me that thought hasn’t crossed your mind at least ONCE in your life.”
“Not gonna happen. No,” Gabrielle said flatly.
“Fine, maybe she’s not me,” Sappho said stepping back. “But you could with a little practice,” she offered.
“No,” Gabrielle said flatly again.
“Goddess, what a stick in the mud,” Sappho groaned.
That’s when another voice called out, “Sappho?”
The poetess sighed. “Speaking of sticks...” In a louder voice, she said in an annoyed tone, “Over here, Ana.”
The woman came over, her jaw slightly open at the sight of Sappho standing next to Gabrielle.
“By the goddess herself. You look just like Saf,” Ana said before she gave a quick look of ‘hello’ to Aphrodite. She then turned to Xena. "And you..." She trailed off. “Who are you?” she muttered more to herself than Xena, who looked like her own twin.
Xena began to grin yet said nothing. Gabrielle also watched Ana, who was still mesmerized by how identical Xena appeared.
“I know!” Aphrodite laughed. “Totally tubular, right!? You all look the same! It's perfect!”
“Anaktoria,” Sappho began, “this is Xena and her partner, Gabrielle. Ladies? This is Anaktoria, Ana for short. She’s…” Sappho trailed off as Ana fainted and fell toward a group of patrons behind them. Luckily, they managed to catch her and rest her gently on the floor. Once she was safely on the ground, they went back to their conversation as if nothing had happened.
“…She’s passing out at the moment,” Sappho finished.
The poetess motioned to the barkeep. Without question, he handed her a mug of water. Sappho casually tossed it over her shoulder and it landed on Anaktoria face, causing her to sputter and choke. As Sappho, put the mug back on the bar casually, Gabrielle moved to her knees to be at Anaktoria side.
“Are you okay?” the bard asked in concern as she gave the woman her cloak to wipe her face.
Anaktoria took the offered garment with a sense of amazement that was growing into a grin.
“She’ll be fiiiiiiine,” Sappho said in a sing-song voice. “She freaks and faints. It’s an ‘Ana’ thing.” She looked down at Ana again. “So when you look at Xena please don’t faint again, okay?” she told her lover.
Gabrielle gave Sappho an annoyed look and focused on Ana again.
“Here; let me help you up,” she said as she took the taller woman by the elbow.
“You don’t seem shocked by this look-alike business at all,” Ana said as she moved to her feet again.
“Actually, this happens more often than you might think,” Gabrielle giggled.
“Your laugh is even the same as hers. You-you have a sweet laugh,” Ana complimented timidly with a slight stammer.
The bard could see the other woman was nervous and even a bit mousy.
“Hey,” she said gently, “…let’s start over.” She extended her hand. “I’m Gabrielle.”
“Ana,” she said with a shy smile as she lightly shook the appendage. “Nice to meet you, Gabrielle.”
Sappho looked between Ana and Gabrielle. At first, the expression seemed like one of wariness. At least, it did to Xena. But almost as soon as the cagey expression showed itself, Sappho seemed to push it down and started to smile.
“You two seem to be hitting it off, which gives me an idea,” she said with a sexy leer. “All of us could put our room keys into a hat and then, one-by-one…”
“No,” Gabrielle said flatly once more.
“Okay, then the four of us could get together and-.”
“No,” Gabrielle repeated.
“Oh, come on, think about it,” Sappho whined. “The possibilities here are endless!”
No one seemed to be buying the idea and the poetess’ shoulders slumped in defeat. She glanced down and saw Gabrielle’s cloak on the floor. She quickly reached down to pick it up and a dagger whizzed pasted them and stuck in the wall behind the bar, narrowly missing her.
Xena and Gabrielle watched as a cloaked figure began to push their way through the crowd. They both jumped into action and Xena yelled to Aphrodite.
“Get them out of here!”
She nodded and instantly zapped them, making Sappho and Ana disappear from the room with her.
Xena and Gabrielle watched the assassin make his way toward a closed door. The duo jumped on top of a few tables and began leap frog over the human traffic in a quest to make up for the killer’s head start.
They watched him darted to the supply room door. Several moments later, they pushed their way through. When they entered, they found the place was stocked with barrels of mead and boxes of various stored items. It was poorly lit and so cramped that the aisles fit only one person walking sideways. The barrels were so high there was less than six feet of space in the high ceiling room. |
95f0dacabaf94d608cf9e231566cd4eb | ['a23d1e9fdb5e48c98d32921700a5a46d'] | She finally managed to open her eyes and more tears ran down her face. Her whole body was in pain and she couldn’t understand why. She struggled to move a bit more and a quiet sob came out followed by many more.
Alex felt herself panicking, not knowing what to do and her body sprung in action out of pure instinct. Lena flinched, her cries becoming louder when seeing someone close, standing over her.
Alex’s hand found Lena’s wet cheek and the girl yelped, eyes squeezing shot and body shaking with fear. The redhead heart shattered for what felt the hundredth time today.
“Hey sweet girl” Alex’s voice soothing and calm, her thumb gently caressing her predominant cheekbone “It’s okay… You’re safe now”
Lena whimpered a bit more and wiggled around in bed, causing another yelp of pain to escape her shaking lips. Alex sat down on the edge of her bed and tried to hold the girl down, trying to keep her still and prevent her from getting herself even more hurt. But at the feeling of hands restraining her, her cries became louder, strangled sobs and loud whimpering causing Alex’s tears silent run down her cheeks.
“Shhh… Shhhh babygirl, it’s okay, you’re okay… You’re safe now, you’re okay”
That made nothing to comfort the distressed girl and she started to scream, legs kicking and un-casted arm struggling against Alex’s firm hold. Lena’s eyes remained screwed shot and Alex felt more helpless than she’d ever felt in all her life.
“Lena, baby, it’s okay” She kept trying, body leaning forwards when Lena started to struggle to breathe. She let go of her hold of one hand and started to caress her cheek again, pushing away some strains of dark hair away from her face “Lena, hey, hey, breathe baby, breathe”
Alex gently blew a cold breath on Lena’s face and kept caressing her cheek, asking her to breathe in the softest voice she could manage until she felt Lena’s body begin to relax. She smiled in relief, watching Lena’s breath starting to slow down.
“That’s it babygirl… That’s it… Breathe for me, baby, just like this… Just breathe”
Lena’s whole demeanor started to relax and Alex deemed it safe to let up her hold altogether and brought her other hand to the girl’s hair, running her fingers through greasy dark locks in desperate need of washing. Lena’s eyelids started to slowly open and green scared, innocent orbs locked with soft brown, leaving both girls in a trance.
Alex’s smile grew as she ran the tip of her fingers through the girl’s face and she seemed to relax even more, fear slowly fading from her eyes.
The redhead’s heart warmed in a way that has only ever done for two other people in her life and more tears ran down her face.
“It’s okay baby, just breathe…” she continued quietly “… Mama’s right here”
\---
Sam had woken up since the moment Alex left her chair and Lena’s cries of distress start filling the room and watched to whole exchange in front of her with wonder and love in her eyes.
She could see the panic in Alex, the fear in Lena and the absolute pain the two girls were in and wanted to intervene, but something held her still.
What followed was one of the most beautiful scenes she had even witnessed and more tears poured down her eyes, the love she felt for the two people in front of her so strong she almost thought she would suffocate.
She remained silent as Alex soothed Lena with caresses and softly singing for her to ‘breathe, just breathe… Oh, breathe, just breathe…” until the Little’s eyelids started to drop again and she fell into a peaceful sleep.
Alex remained where she was after Lena fell asleep, watching over her with a look of pure love in her eyes that Sam had ever only seen her direct it to her Kara.
Eventually the brunette silently got up from her chair and walked towards her lover, wrapping her arms around her from behind and kissing her on the top of her head. Alex laid her arms on top of the ones surrounding her and sighed in content.
“Well done, Mama” The brunette whispered and smiled when Alex turned her face to kiss her on the shoulder.
“We’ve got a long road ahead of us, don’t we?” Alex whispered, resting her back against Sam’s front and feeling her sigh more than she heard it.
“Yeah… But you know, I have a feeling we’re going to be just fine”
“The four of us?” The redhead asked, tilting her face up while biting her bottom lip and looking exactly as Kara did whenever she was Little and feeling insecure.
Sam smiled in reassurance and leaned down, kissing her on the lips and laying their foreheads together.
“Yes. All the four of us. We are going to be just fine.”
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> I hope you guys liked it! Tell me what you think and what you guys want to see next on the comments (how do you guys want Little Lena's and Little Kara's meeting to go? How do you guys think Little Kara will react knowing she's now a 'big sister'? And what will be Little Lena's reaction?) ALSO! Any guesses on the girls' headspace ages?
>
> And one more thing; Later I'll be bringing many other characters from Arrowverse into this and would like to know; who you guys want to see? Who would you like to see as the girls little friends? And who are their Bigs (I may or may not have already some mischief planned for the girls and one certain Sassy Assassin *wink wink*)
**Author's Note:**
> Hope you guys enjoyed, please let me know what you think on the comments and tell me if I should continue this or not. Thank you for reading! | 37e348e5f0e844f4baad825db9fcea80 | ['a23d1e9fdb5e48c98d32921700a5a46d'] |
1. Wake Up Call
Some days were better than the others.
Some days, were absolutely chaos.
Sadly for Felicity, from the moment she woke up, she knew she was looking forwards towards the later.
“Mommy!”
“Mommy, she’s lying! It’s all her fault!”
“Shut up, it was your fault! Mommy!”
Although this wasn’t an unusual wake up call for the blonde for the last five years, she doesn’t think it will ever get easier. Taking a deep breath, the blonde mentally prepared herself for yet another day without a proper amount of rest. Again, nothing new there.
The bedroom door was violently slammed open and many little feet ran inside. She groaned and heard another groan come from her left side.
“You forgot to lock the door again, honey”
“Hmm…” The groaning body shifted, trying to hid under the pillow “… I noticed…”
“It was all her fault!” The first little body to reach the bed shouted, and even with her eyes still closed, Felicity could see the accusatory pointing finger.
“No! He’s mine and you took it”
“No! He’s Aunt Thea’s and she gave it to me!”
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“Mommy, they waked me up!”
“Me too!”
“Mommy, I’m hungry!”
“She killed him Mommy!”
“No, you did!”
Felicity sighed, giving up on getting a much need extra five minutes of sleep and forced herself into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep off her eyes and reaching out for her glasses on the night stand. She turned to the loud commotion just in time to keep the tiny sleepy blonde from falling and helped her into the bed.
“Alright, alright, enough with the screaming!” The screaming finally stopped, all eyes being on her and she sighed again. The alarm clock showed it was barely after 7. Well… Better than yesterday, at least. “Now, who wants to tell me what’s going on?” All mouths opened and she held up a finger with a warning look on her eyes “One at time”
“It was Helena, Mommy! She killed Mr. Fluffy Pants!”
“I did not! Laurel grabbed him and pulled him and ripped him!”
“And they woke up Sara and I Mommy” The dark haired boy who had also climbed on the bed pouted, next to the nodding yarning little blonde.
The brown haired boy standing quietly in middle of the chaos simply shrugged “I’m just hungry”
Felicity snickered, allowing Sara to snuggle into her and reached out to ruffle Barry’s messy hair “Of course you are, buddy, now, you guys, where’s Mr. Fluffy Pants?”
“Here” Pouting, Laurel held up the remains of the brown old stuffed bear at the same time that Helena held up what looked like the decapitated held of the poor bear. Felicity cringed.
“Oh, Mr. Fluffy Pants, you poor dear…”
“She did it Mommy! Helena did it!” Laurel accused, pointing her tiny finger to her hark haired sister.
“Did not! It was all your fault!”
“No, it was yours!”
“It was both of your fault!” Sara pointed out, crossing her tiny arms and glaring at her sisters. It was all it took for chaos to break loose again and once again, everyone was screaming.
“Alright, alright you guys, enough!” At the sound of their father’s voice, all the kids went quiet and looked at the arising man. He stretched and sat up, taking in the whole situation around him, a frown on his face once he spotted the decapitated stuffed animal “Oh… I see… Poor Mr. Fluffy Legs”
“Daddy, his name is Mr. Fluffy Pants!” Little Ray informed and then frowned in confusion “… Or was…”
“It’s alright you guys” Felicity stated, reaching out for the part of the bear in Laurel’s hands and taking a good look at it “It’s nothing too serious. Nothing Mommy can’t fix”
“You’ll fix him?” Laurel smiled, clapping her hands happily “Thank you Mommy!”
“It was still Laurel’s fault though…”
“But, Helena, Aunt Thea gave Mr. Fluffy Pants to Laurel…” Sara started, Ray nodding along with her.
“Yeah, you said you didn’t want it ‘cuz only little babies have stuffed toys… Which is not true! I’m not a baby and I love my Monkey!” Barry continued and Helena rolled her startling bright blue eyes.
“Whatever…”
For what felt like the tenth time on the short time she has been awake, Felicity sighed and Oliver chuckled, throwing the covers off him and jumped out of the bed.
“Alright, kids, why don’t we leave Mommy to fix Mr. Fluffy Pants while we go downstairs and start on breakfast, huh?”
“Yes!” Barry cheered “Food!”
“That’s right buddy” Oliver chuckled, fetching the still lazy Ray and Sara from the bed and turning to the other three “Let’s go get some food inside of your tummies, shall we?”
“Can we have pancakes?” Helena asked happily but Laurel shook her head.
“No! I want waffles!”
“Well, too bad because I’m in the mood for some eggs and bacon… And French toast” Oliver wiggled his eyebrows, bouncing the two kids in his arms who giggled. Barry began jumping up and down and was out the door in a flash.
“Yay! I love French toast!”
“Barry! No running in the stairs!” Felicity called after her son and Oliver looked back at her, smiling reassuring.
“Don’t worry, babe, I closed the gate before coming to bed”
“Oh, yeah?” The blonde raised a brown and crossed her arms “… Like you locked our door?”
Oliver was silent for a second then he turned around, rushing out the room behind his son, two grumpy little girls trailing behind him and arguing with one another in small voices.
Felicity shook her head with a small smile and looked down to the two parts of the stuffed bear. She grabbed his head and held it up.
“Well, Mr. Fluffy Pants… Good morning for you too”
… |
1aa8885ebe964b129d8ba9490bc391fe | ['a243c713ddc04656acd78954a076a650'] |
1. Captain
Pairings: DaiSuga
AU: Police
Warnings: Some mild kinky stuff introduced around halfway through
" Lieutenant Sugawara, Captain Sawamura has requested to see you in his office" Suga looked up at the officer who spoke, seeing it was Sergeant Tsukishima.
He sighed as he ran a hair through his light-grey hair, getting up from his chair in his small office.
"Do you know why, Tsukishima?" Suga asked. The blond only blinked, slightly shaking his head. In the little time Tsukishima had been there, he wasn't one to talk much or show emotion. The most he had ever said was 'Shut up, Yamaguchi' or some remark about another fellow Sergeant, Kageyama.
"I guess that will be all, Tsukishima" Suga waved him off as he walked out of his office, and towards the Captains office.
What could Captain Sawamura want? he thought to himself. He wasn't sure if he had did anything wrong or anything to upset the Captain. Although he wasn't paying much attention to those arround him, he could feel there eyes on him, wondering why he was going to see the Captain.
Whenever someone was summoned to Captain Sawamura's, it was never good.
Suga sighed as he stood in front of the Captain's door, his hand hovering over the knob. Thankfully, the blinds had been pulled down, making it impossible to see in or out. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he calmed himself down. As soon as he opened his eyes, he twisted the door knob, opening the door.
"Sir, you wanted to see me?" Suga asked.
Sitting down at the desk was none other than Captain Sawamura Daichi, a strict captain. He was very focused on the job given to him, and nothing more. He didn't participate in the events the other officers had, and rarely had fun. He was, in Suga's eyes, a very serious man.
"Yes, I did. Please, sit down Lieutenant Sugawara " His deep voice commanded. Suga hesitantly sat down in the chair in front of the desk, his body stiff. He had only been in that chair one other time prior to this moment, when he was first training as a Cadet. It had certainly been sometime ago, but Suga could never forget just how intense the Captain was back then, and now.
"Sir, what is it you needed of me?" Suga asked, cautiously.
The Captain looked straight into Suga's eyes, his face not twitching the slightest bit. To say Suga was intimidated by him, was an understatement of the year. The power rolling off of him was overwhelming, even suffocating him. And in a way, the dominance rolling off of the Captain in waves you would see in the ocean, was sexy.
"I have been informed by a fellow officer that you wish to be Captain one day. Is that true?" His voice was calm in a way that was eerie. A shiver crawled down Suga's spine, and all he wanted to do was crawl away from the Captain, away from his intense gaze. Away from his dark, gorgeous brown eyes.
"Y-Yes Captain. I would love to move up in the ranks, sir" Suga answered, his eyes shifting down to the desk, no longer at the Captain's brown eyes. He felt like a gazel hiding from the lion and it's dominant presence. But there would be absolutely no chance of him escaping from this lion.
"Ah, I see. You wish to take my place as Captain, is that right? Just imagine; Daichi Sawamura replaced with young Kōshi Sugawara" His tone of voice changed from monotone to light-hearted. There was no malice behind his words, thankfully.
"No, nothing like that at all Captain! I just want to move up the ranks and maybe even reach Captain if possible. I would never want to-" He was interupted by the Captain raising his hand, silencing him. He had a smirk on his face, one Suga had never seen on the Captain in all of his time knowing him.
Something about it was off. It was so unusual of the Captain to smile, let alone smirk. In a way, it was sexy.
"Lieutenant Sugawara, lock the door for me. It's honestly annoying when everyone barges in as you try to have an important conversation" His voice had changed from the light-hearted one to a much more bored tone.
Suga found it hard to lift himself off the chair, as if he was being weighed down by rocks. When he finally stood up, and turned to lock the door, he felt a little warning in the back of his head. It was a gut feeling, one he should have listened to, but he was naive.
He locked the door, and returned to his seat.
"You see Lieutenant, I can't let you take over as Captain as long as I am here, or alive. And I do believe that some type of punishment should be used to make sure such a silly thought never comes across your mind, ever again " His voice was like silk.
Suga tensed at his words, even if his voice was soft like silk.
Daichi got up from his chair, slwoly making his way towards where Suga was. The Lieutenant gulped as he watched Daichi get closer, going past him, and behind him. He could feel his hands resting on his shoulders. His eyes widened as his body stiffened at the contact, his mind unable to fully comprehend what was happening.
"S-Sir?" He hated that his voice was so low, so weak. It was nothing compared to the dominating voice Captain Daichi had. He could hear Daichi chuckle, feel his breath on the nape of his neck. He could even feel Daichi's lips very close to his neck. | 8fc6077186774d15b5119b942db8144f | ['a243c713ddc04656acd78954a076a650'] | As Daichi began to open the back door to the backyard, Suga hurried to get his camera out. As he fumbled to get it out of his bag, he dropped a few photos he had taken over the past few days, and he struggled to pick them up.
"Oh come on" He mumbled as he shoved the pictures into his duffle bag.
"What do you have there, Suga?" Daichi asked.
Suga looked up to see Daichi standing in the doorway, looking down at him. Suga shoved the camera back in his duffle, standing up and brushing off the fact his future surprise may no longer be a surprise.
"Um, nothing Daichi. Hey, let's go check out our bedrooms, yeah?" Suga asked as he turned around and headed for the stair case. He could tell Daichi was staring at him, not moving from the doorway. He wanted to turn around, and look at Daichi, but he couldn't find it in himself to do so.
"Tell me, babe " He used the voice that meant he would find out what Suga was hiding one way or another. The voice made Suga want to cry in shame that he wasn't able to keep the secret about his photos any longer. He should have listened to Tsukishima and gave it to him instead of keeping it on himself at all times.
"I, um, am taking pictures for Tsukishima since he wanted to see the inside of the house" The lie came so quickly he didn't have time to think. He felt a tug on his shoulder as the duffle was ripped from him.
"No, stop!" He tried to grab the duffel back from Daichi, but his boyfriend was stronger than him.
He watched as curious brown eyes scanned the duffle, opening it up, and taking out the photos. He looked over each one, a small smile appearing on his face. Suga wanted to cry as he messed up the surprise. If only he had listen to Tsukishima when he offered to take the duffle in case a situation like this happened.
"Is this... Am I...Suga?" He looked at his boyfriend, the photos in his hands, and a confused expression on his face. All Suga could do was hold his breath as he watched Daichi pull something else out of the duffle bag; a small, black box.
"Uh, Marry me, Daichi?!" He asked as he watched Daichi open it. He wanted to slap himself for saying that out of no where instead of waiting to ask Daichi like he had planned.
Then again he never planned for Daichi to find the photos or the ring.
"I..."He paused, his eyes flashing with so many emotions" Yes" Suga was almost surprised by the answer. Yes, he knew that Daichi loved him a lot, but he couldn't help but have some doubt. Didn't everyone have doubt when it cam to things like this?
"Thank you" He replied, awkwardly.
Daichi laughed at his boyfriend as he walked over to him, duffle bag and ring in hand, and hugged him. His boyfriend had flaws, which he truly didn't believe, but he was an amazing boyfriend. He was so sweet to try and take photos of him, and even plan to ask to marry him.
"Although I'm confused Suga. Why is it you that asked me to marry you, when the dominant male is suppose to ask it? I have no problem with this whatsoever, but still" Daichi chuckled as he pulled away from Suga.
Suga had thought about that a lot, but he always wanted to pick out the ring and pop the question. And in a way, he wanted to feel as if he was the dominant male in the relationship. Although everyone, especially Tsukishima and Kageyama, reminded him he wasn't. Even he could dream about such things.
"I like being untraditional" He simply replied as he pulled Daichi back to him, pecking him on his soft lips.
This was the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and he would follow him into the after life.
"And when did you take the picture of me naked in bed? And the one where I'm in the shower, Suga?" |
7145f5509fef499e895fac196b10c41c | ['a25d559af9784d0cb47897df3e925888'] | Dark enough
**Author's Note:**
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and the song Dark enough. They belong to J.K.Rowling and Amanda Lopiccolo, respectively.
>
> A/N: after some complains, I decided to revise all my songfics to better confer around the copyright parameters. So, while there will still be lyrics, I have decided to only include those whom have the most importance to the story.
Ginny was in the clock tower, the whole school empty. Except for her. She couldn't attend it. She couldn't attend the funeral. She wasn't strong enough.
'' **There is a girl..."**
Ginny could recall numerous of such memories. That big, heartfelt smile with the blue eyes sparkling like sapphires. She could still hear that happy, carefree laugh.
" **She's tall and she's smart..."**
And she was exactly like that. Most considered her crazy, eccentric, but she was beautiful in her own way. She always shined brighter than the sun.
" **How does someone so perfect,**
**Feel so insecure?..."**
Ginny should have realized it. Before it was too late. But she didn't, she hadn't recognized the signs. And now, she pays the prize. They all paid the prize.
" **As to scar her skin with cuts and burns**
**And still want to hurt more..."**
" **As if her mind isn't dark enough..."**
It all began to make sense to her; the long sleeves, her fascination with the fire. She hates herself all the more for only now realizing the severity of her situation. And for that, she cries all the more, not even attempting to dry her eyes. Why should she, they will only be replaced just as fast.
" **But all she does is close her eyes**
**And enter her mind..."**
Where were the adults? Why hadn't they done something? How was she to trust them to help the students, when they hadn't seen something like this happening? She hates them. She HATES them, but most of all she hates and blames herself.
" **How does someone so loving,**
**Learn to hate her own guts?..."**
No matter what the others say, she still thinks she should have done something. But she hadn't and so it's her fault. She was to blame for her inaction.
" **Who yesterday took**
**The breath that was her last..."**
" **As to scar her skin with cuts and burns**
**And still want to hurt more...''**
''It hurts, doesn't it?'' asked Harry, having found her watching the falling rain. As if the earth, as if Gaea herself, was crying for the deceased girl. Ginny didn't answer. She just turned into his gentle embrace. Burying her face in his chest, she hates herself even more.
For she wasn't strong or brave enough to attend the funeral of her best friend, Luna. | e756ace933e947918325fcf905fb7c74 | ['a25d559af9784d0cb47897df3e925888'] | Deciding to take a breath of fresh air even though he was already outside in the big wild jungle of Pandora, Jake got up from his place at the border of the fire and went to exit Hometree. However, his escape into the wilderness did not go unnoticed. An angry and foreboding shadow followed him, while he remained unaware of the possible danger. In his heartbreaking and overwhelming sadness, he wandered further and further from safety, while taking an old, weathered and yellowing photograph out of a side pocket of his pants. He had opted to wear his dark, sleeveless shirt and his heavy duty pants for two reasons mainly. First, because it was easier to train in them than to get used to the loincloth at the same time as trying to learn something. Second, while the Omaticaya seemed to grasp the basics of human culture, they most definitely do not know the finer points of having a society with no less than six different genders. And, while he wasn't - and never would be - ashamed of being of the perceived 'weaker' sex, he didn't want to explain to virtual strangers why he had a working vagina and a - kind of - defective penis. That wasn't to say that he couldn't cum like any other guy, it just meant he couldn't father any children as opposed to carrying them.
Anyway, back to his cause of suffering; the death of Tommy. As he looked at their last picture together with their family, before he left for Venezuela and came back more pathetic than ever. Nikita, their male omega bearer, wanted them to have a Russian name too and had an enormous row with their sire, Alexander, about it. In the end, it was decided on that very day, that they would let their children choose. Both choose names based on their meaning, so that it would reflect who they were. Tommy chose Tolenka, seeing as it means 'from the East' as a totem to a part of their origins while Jake chose the quite feminine name Jermija, 'God's appointed one'. It could be used to describe him in a loose way, considering God's appointed ones were the angels and those were often depicted as soldiers for God. The next logical step would be to connect that tidbit of information with his starting career as a marine. Their bearer looked like a typical Russian soldier; big and beefy with a well maintained, dark blond, short beard and mustache. He suited his namesake of 'unconquered' and 'unconquerable' quite well, since only their sire was able to conquer his mind, body and soul. If their bearer was thought of as big, then their sire was absolutely gigantic with his cropped black hair, dark green eyes and swimmer's build. Both he and Tommy had inherited their bearer's height, while Tommy stayed lanky, he bulked up quite a bit after joining the marines.
Just thinking about his bearer's rich baritone and his sire's smooth tenor as they sung in the kitchen preparing the day's meal, made him melancholic. Still watching the picture with unseeing eyes, he opened his mouth and let the words of their own song escape his vocal chords.
"Ha razbityh mechtah, ne razvesti vnov' ogon'..."
"Pravda pdna - "Net" ili "Da"..."
"Chto imeem - ne hranim, no tak ustroen etot mir..."
Unbidden, tears began to flow from his glazed eyes. His shoulders hunched a bit as he dry sobbed and squeezed his eyes shut to prevent more tears to escape, but to no avail. The floodgates had opened, and it was impossible to stop them till they ran dry. He ignored them, and continued to sing his heart out to the still jungle around him, as if all the creatures in it heard his pain.
"Po razbitym serdtsa, vozmozhno, mozhno idti..."
"Otvet', skazhi..."
"Ne nahodim otvet..."
Meanwhile, the foreboding shadow had reached him and was observing him in silent curiosity and confusion from the branches above the grieving ex-marine. The language seemed alien to him, more than that damned English, but he could understand the emotions conveyed in his voice and facial expression perfectly. Heedless of his all encompassing hate towards the Sky People, he felt a touch of concern enter his hardened heart at the sheer heartbreaking sadness surrounding him. Taking no note of his presence, Jake dropped to his knees when his legs gave out under him and continued to sing his lullaby of despair to any who would hear it.
"Kak zhe dal'she smozhem my zhit'..."
"Tak ustroen etot mir..."
""Da" ili "Net", tysyachi let..."
"Ne nahodim otvet..."
An oppressive silence lingered between them as he finished his courting with Grief, only to be interrupted by the rustling of leaves above and to the right of his current position as his shadow was revealed to him.
''Which demonic language did you use, Jakesully? Did you cast a curse over this forest to spite Eywa? Did you?'', his shadow asked him in an constantly angry tone, his frown deepening when Jake didn't answer him directly after.
''I didn't curse the forest, Tsu'tey, I wouldn't even know how,'' Jake began, his earlier sadness forgotten in the face of 'danger'. ''I was singing in Russian, it's one of my native languages. Didn't you learn with Grace that Earth is divided in many different countries?''
''No, Jakesully,'' Tsu'tey answered, visibly reluctant to admit to a perceived weakness. ''I did not. Tell me more of this 'Russian'.'' As if he had already answered, Tsu'tey turned to return to Hometree.
''Wait, how about I teach you about more than just Russia? Like, I could take a select few of you back to Hell's Gate, to the science courtyard, and we, that is to say the humans, could show you different cultures found on Earth and you could show us some of yours. This way, we could learn from each other and come to understand each other better. What do you say?''
Tsu'tey had stopped walking after his first few words and seemed to be thinking seriously about the offer he made. While Jake would readily admit Tommy was the egghead of the family, it didn't mean he was just a dumb mass of heavy muscle. ''Olo'eyktan will have to decide on your offer. I will relay it to him. If we suspect at any moment this is a trap, you will be executed together with your accomplices. You understand, don't you, Jakesully?''
''Thank you, Tsu'tey,'' Jake began, already feeling a weight disappear from his shoulders. ''I will relay the message to Grace.'' |
8d958382d814438694d9723377f2da9f | ['a29ab8e038ee4f82937c804c7fc4bd73'] | "So no shagging on the kitchen table this time?"
James scoffs. "Have you _seen_ her makeup? There's no way it would still look that good if we'd just had sex right before coming here."
I feel an odd rush of affection for him at that.
Once I've got a drink in hand, I split off from James in search of Dom, who is, predictably, as equally decked out in sparkles as I am.
"Best holiday of the year," she says, as soon as we're close enough to talk over the music.
"Don't you know it," I smile back at her, clinking our champagne glasses against each other.
"Alright, it's drinking game time!" Freddy yells, before realizing that it would be a million times more effective to just turn down the music and speak at a normal volume.
"What are we going with this time?" Simon asks. I have no idea when he walked in - I don't remember seeing him when James and I first got here. He's standing next to Louis; the two of them are surprisingly amicable given that they're each other's ex-boyfriends.
"Not truth or dare," Molly says immediately. "I don't know if anyone _else_ remembers watching James give a lap dance, but it's unfortunately burned into my retinas and I really don't need yet _another_ mentally scarring image of one of my cousins."
I throw my head back laughing at that; discovering that James can somehow give a lap dance at the same caliber as a professional stripper was probably the highlight of last year's New Year's party, at least for me.
Although I'm probably biased in that assessment, given that I very publicly snogged him as soon as he finished.
We're still in the middle of debating what drinking game to play when a Knut lands in my champagne glass.
I look up to find Rose raising her fist victoriously, obviously pleased that she hit her mark.
I'm still not entirely sure who proposed the idea, but at some point during one of our post-graduation parties, someone decided that we should adopt the Muggle concept of 'pennying,' which means that any time you manage to land a coin in someone else's drink, they're forced to chug it.
As someone with very average aim who's often surrounded by a bunch of former Quidditch players, I absolutely hate it.
But I'm a good sport nonetheless, so I drain my glass and hold on to the Knut, waiting for a good time to aim it at someone else.
"I'm going to go refill this," I say, not holding back my glare in Rose's direction, "and when I come back, I'm sincerely hoping you lot will have come to a decision about what we're playing."
The threat works, because when I come back into the room with a newly topped off glass, everyone's sitting on the couch as Freddy uses his wand to shuffle a deck of playing cards.
"What are we playing?" I ask James, as I sit in the space next to him on the couch.
"Ring of Fire," he replies, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me in to his side.
Oh, Merlin save us all. Last time we played this game, it didn't really end well for anyone - particularly Amelie, who kept getting stuck on the wrong end of a waterfall and didn't even make it to the bar that night.
We're about halfway through the deck when I turn to whisper in James ear. "Can you do me a favour?"
"Depends on what it is."
I surreptitiously slide the Knut from earlier into James' hand. "Land this in Rose's glass please?"
James chuckles under his breath. "I'm on it."
And sure enough, two cards later, James sends the coin flying, and it hits its target perfectly.
Rose looks up from her glass to find me smirking at her, before narrowing her eyes. "Not fair. You used your Quidditch-playing fiancé to make that shot."
"I mean, it still counts, regardless of who threw it," I retort, grinning. "Not to mention, you've got a Quidditch-playing boyfriend at your disposal as well."
Rose just rolls her eyes good-naturedly, before downing the contents of her glass.
* * *
Even though we're all decidedly plastered by 10 pm, the decision is still made to ring in the New Year at an actual bar, so we put ourselves together as best we can and head to The Augurey.
The club in question is, predictably, packed, and it's only because of our annoying half-celebrity status that we're able to avoid the line going out of the building and beeline straight for the bouncers.
Notoriety is good for _something_ , at least.
The inside of the club is all loud music and flashy lights - and despite the aforementioned drunkenness, we all head straight to the bar to get yet another round.
The bartender on duty tonight - Dave - knows our drink orders without even having to ask. That probably says something about us spending just a touch too much time here, but that's a concern best left to another day.
In addition to our usual drinks, he also doles out fourteen shot glasses full of something smoking and shimmering, and, for some reason, not one of us questions the unknown contents of the glasses.
It doesn't taste terrible, but _Merlin_ , it's strong.
"What was that?" James asks, as he collects the stray shot glasses and slides them back to Dave.
"It's the bar's New Year's special," he answers. "It's got a drop of a rip-off of Liquid Luck, plus a shit ton of alcohol. A guaranteed good time."
James grins. "Wicked."
As the night wears on, our group gradually spreads out. I find myself leaning against a different part of the bar, chatting with Roxanne about her seventh year. | 20ab471cefe34dd1be8581b510e12f42 | ['a29ab8e038ee4f82937c804c7fc4bd73'] | > I can’t resist rolling my eyes, even though I know the effect will be lost on him, before untying his stupid shoes for him and getting him into the shower. I actually don’t even trust him not to slip and crack his own skull open in this state, so I follow him in, pyjamas and all, although the mood is decidedly different from most times we’re both in this shower together.
>
> Under the stream of the hot water, I catch him studying me. “That was really fucking mean of you, you know,” he says, and I’ve only got somewhat of a clue of what he’s talking about.
>
> “Yeah, well, we both made mistakes tonight then.”
10. Complexity #10
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Revelations strike at the most inconvenient times.
On the day of James' twenty-first birthday, I wake up before him, sneaking downstairs to get his present put up before he gets up.
I've been excited about this one for a while - I know how sentimental James is when it comes to photographs, so it didn't surprise me that he'd had Freddy rig up a camera at our proposal spot along with all the fireworks. And at that point, it was just a matter of finding a good frame for it.
It's going to be, by far, the biggest photograph on this wall, so I wave my wand and watch as the frames rearrange themselves, leaving a large gap in the center for the newest addition. We're honestly almost running out of room on this wall; soon enough, the photo gallery will manage to spread all the way into the upstairs hallway.
Once I've got it in position, I head down the rest of the stairs to make coffee, and wait for James' alarm to go off.
I've only just poured myself a cup when I see James making his way down the stairs, definitely not fully awake yet. Somehow, he misses the new picture entirely, looking at me and grinning lazily.
"Good morning."
"Turn around," I respond.
He looks appropriately befuddled by that command. "What?"
"Just… turn around and look at the stairs please," I say, trying to be a bit more specific this time.
He gives me yet another skeptical look, but obliges nonetheless. And once he does, it takes all of five seconds for him to notice what I'm talking about.
"Happy birthday, James," I tell him, walking up behind him and wrapping my arm around his middle.
"I love it," he replies immediately, throwing his arm around my shoulders and leaning over to kiss me on the temple.
We stand there for a few seconds, just watching the moving picture, before James starts laughing.
"They even caught the eye roll!" James exclaims, grinning. "You know, I still can't believe you rolled your eyes at me mid-proposal."
I scoff at that. "Yeah, well, I still can't believe you said I'm a 'great shag' mid-proposal."
He looks at me smugly. "I wasn't wrong though, was I?"
"Considering I've never shagged myself, I wouldn't know."
"Smartass," he shoots back. "You'll just have to take my word for it then, I guess."
I just hum in response, and he pulls me even closer to his side. "You could prove it right now, you know."
"We both have to be at work in just a little bit," I say reasonably, wiggling out of his grip and untying my dressing gown.
"Besides," I continue, moving to stand in front of him and wrapping my arms around his neck, "if you're getting birthday sex, you're getting it tonight when I can do the thing properly, and not just as a quickie."
As I move, my dressing gown falls open, revealing the dark red lace-covered bra and knickers underneath. Originally, this was meant to be a gift for much later in the day, but the opportunity to tease him is just too perfect to pass up.
His eyes go wide and his lips part slightly, suggesting that my actions have had the _exact_ intended effect I was looking for. One of my hands leaves its place on his neck, sliding down his chest and abdomen as he noticeably tenses under my touch.
I stop when my hand meets the waistband of his joggers, and I step away from him completely. "Just a little preview," I say coyly, starting back up the stairs so I can go and actually get ready for work.
James closes his eyes, leaning his head back and groaning loudly. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that?"
I giggle at that.
I'm fully dressed and in the middle of doing my makeup by the time James comes back upstairs, holding both his cup of coffee and the one that I'd left downstairs. He sets mine down on the counter and leans against the doorframe of the bathroom, taking a long sip of his own drink.
"When I get absolutely nothing accomplished at work today, I'm blaming you," he says conversationally.
"Good."
He smiles at that in a way that makes my heart pick up pace, even though I'm only watching him out of the corner of my eye in the mirror.
"I think I finally got Freddy to relent on the whole 'boys' night' thing, by the way," he adds.
For some strange reason, Freddy decided last week that James' birthday should be an all-blokes affair, on account of it being his 'last birthday as an unmarried man' or some other garbage. James hadn't been too keen on the idea when it had been proposed, and, at the time, neither had I.
I start searching for my contour brush. "Oh?"
"Yeah, he said as long as it was a boys' night for the first few drinks, that was all that mattered. So you should come meet us at Vipertooth at eight-ish." |
c2b5a2272b2848a78d7c7fd1050e01b3 | ['a2a386d2a90540589b08c0a56f50f269'] | She opened her arm and brought him in for an embrace, and he tucked his face into her neck as she held the painting at an arm’s distance and admired it. “I’m going to hang it up as soon as I can.” He wrapped his arms around her stomach, cautious not to hurt her, and a tiny smile spread across his face.
“I was gonna make breakfast for you too, but…” He reluctantly parted from her arms and laughed. “I like our house and I don’t want to burn it down.”
“That’s another thing we really need to work on,” she answered.
Later that afternoon, when his father sent him into his parents’ bedroom to fetch something, the painting was the first thing that had arrested his attention; it hung proudly on display on the wall opposite to the window. His smile didn't dim for weeks.
John never understood until he was much older why she was so persistent on instilling that knowledge into him, and it was only when he was seventeen after a specific incident of his father yelling at him and meticulously picking apart an essay he had written for school did he realize that his father was the very definition of a perfectionist. Perhaps she had worried that those habits would wear off on John, but by then it was already too late; his mother had been dead for a year after giving birth to her last daughter.
▆▆▆
The days following up to his next class are rather uneventful.
Most of them include him dragging himself through his daily routines; getting up, going to class if he has class that day, going to work, going to the library, studying, and then retiring to bed at around ten or eleven. By the end of his day, he can’t help but feel exhausted. To his delight, the aching he woke up with the day after his class (which was a Wednesday) was tolerable and it was easy to rein in his pain; he prides in having a high tolerance for it by the way. When you come home every day from fencing practice with bruises lining your arms and callouses forming along the base of your fingers, and the part of his palm where the handle molded neatly into the bend of your hand, you don’t really _notice_ pain. It’s something that’s just background noise to him now.
However, aside from all that, his desire for utmost perfection is impeding on his essay, and for most of the time when he has free time to work on it, he finds himself staring at a blank document with a blinking cursor for hours, the correct phrasing just _failing_ to manifest itself into words. He knows what he wants to say, and he can _say_ it, but he can’t say it as eloquently as he would like. That _irritates_ him. John is _renowned_ for being on top of his assignments. He has all the prerequisites completed; thorough research, sourced down to the letter. Is he all _written out_?
It’s due in a week and a half, and John has not even his introduction completed. Not even a nice, solid outline. He’s just _blank._ This is something he’s passionate about! How can he run out of creativity _now_?
To be honest, the idea of turning in an assignment that was not a good embodiment of his writing abilities disgusts him. No, it has to be _perfect._ It has to read like a published novel. He wants to wow his professor—he wants to be the top of the class. Which, he realizes at some points, is an absolutely ridiculous expectation, as no one can achieve perfection all the time… if at all. But that cogent reasoning does not exist to John. Anything below perfection is labeled as an immediate _failure,_ and failure is a pure _umbrage_ to the Laurens’ family name. Which is why he hates dancing, because he is not good at it, and in some twisted way, still likes fencing because he can beat _anyone_ at it. Even if the idea of a foil makes him nauseated and dizzy.
He digresses.
To his dismay, all throughout the week, he fails to notice Gilbert making his routine visits, which is disappointing, to say the least. Perhaps he’s just busy, but he was looking forward to getting to know him more, and while he scribbled down orders and coasted from table to table, he eagerly looked to the door whenever someone else entered. By the weekend, he was completely worn out and wanted to spend time on things he _enjoyed,_ like reading or creative writing, but the idea of getting up and putting energy into something was just too much for him to handle at that moment, so he ended up sleeping all afternoon, and even then, he couldn’t really escape his worries; they’re all playing out in his dreams.
Right. The moment he entered high school he realized that he wasn’t going to have time for things he enjoyed anymore.
On Saturday, he gets a shower, dresses for work, laments over the fact he forgot to go shopping and so as a result he has no milk for his cereal, he trudges off to his waiting job. To be honest, it's not a job little him thought he'd be stuck with—yet when he moved out by himself (and yes, he admittedly did run off most of his father's funds,) he realized it was necessary. His coworkers are amicable and the hours aren't too dreadful, but dealing with mouthy and rude customers only strengthened his hate for the obvious classism running rampant in America; ironic, considering his father is the exact same way and even John himself falls in the more privileged class. | 6f30cb6f1e6e4a5d98348d12be408c3a | ['a2a386d2a90540589b08c0a56f50f269'] | John sniffs. "Be quiet." This time, vying for perfection, he remembers what Alexander had said to him a few minutes before and tries to get it just right, but _maybe_ he lets his hip fall intentionally so Alexander will fix it again. The other narrows his eyes and smiles, as if realizing his intentions, though he doesn't say anything and fixes it again.
"You know, if you're really concerned about not doing well, I can always teach you separately," Alexander says helpfully, nudging his standing foot so it is turned out into first position.
John doesn't want to think about what would happen if he was in a room alone with Alexander.
"I can _do_ it. I don't need _extra help_ ," he spits through gritted teeth, and to his body's protest, inches closer to the bar and now he's _really_ regretting that. He never needed a tutor—not for _fencing_ , not for _art_ , not for _writing_ and especially not for _school_. There's no way he is gonna start now. Frankly, he's insulted Alexander even offered in the first place. “Besides, I think I’d kill myself if I had to dance more than once a week. I ached for three days after your last class.”
"You've got drive, I'll give you that," he says admirably. "But I'm interested in seeing how you're going to cope with the rest of my class after you've torn your hamstring. Oh, and point your toes. Flexed feet don’t look nice on stage.” He pauses. “Unless I tell you to flex them. _That’s_ how you point your toes? Are you joking? I want your entire leg to feel it.”
John rolls his eyes. “You’re not really making me want to stay.”
“Once you see it all come together, you will be amazed. And then you’ll say, ‘wow, that Alexander was a real genius!’”
“I’m sure that’s _exactly_ what I’ll think.” He lowers his leg painfully and winces, though, admittedly, his muscles feel a lot looser. Alexander follows suit and then John gravitates towards Gilbert again, watching him cover his yawn with his forearm.
“He really is something,” John mumbles.
“He’s unique!” Gilbert adds cheerfully. “I’d be grateful if I were you... the rest of the teachers are nightmares. Especially that Thomas character. Though, he did help me get better...”
John opens his mouth to comment on what Alexander told him earlier, but remembering that he may not want him to know, he refrains. “What? Is he mean?”
“Not mean. Just, er... strict. He’d make me do butterfly stretches and forced my knees onto the floor with his heels. Other than that, he’s a very mellow fellow. Most of the time I was straining to hear him.” Gilbert makes the entire ordeal sound like a funny memory, insouciant to John’s grimace. “He and Alexander have some feud going on that I don’t really understand. I should be grateful. Now I can do splits. You, however...”
“Told you: visual arts.”
Gilbert laughs. “Right. You’re just a mess.”
“Wait til you see me do _pirouettes_. I’ve made good acquaintance with the floor already.”
“He’s really good at them.” Gilbert nods towards Alexander, who is busy giving another student the inevitable _point your toes_ lecture. “He’ll make you a professional. We’re probably not going to do those yet, though.” He has a habit of inclining his head to the side when he talks, almost looking inquisitive. “There’s a lot of preparation that goes into them. I’ve been practicing for years and I still can’t do more than four without losing my balance.”
“Wait, wait, if this is a beginner’s class, then why are you taking it? You seem experienced.”
“Because I’ve never done this type of dancing before... so I have to take the intro.” He says it like it’s obvious. “It looked fun—”
“If you two are _done_ , you can join the rest of us or include us in your conversation that’s obviously so important it takes precedence over what I’m saying,” Alexander interrupts, looking nonplussed. Gilbert smiles and raises his hands defensively as an attempted conciliatory gesture and they share a giggle as they join with the other students.
“He doesn’t like to be ignored,” John whispers, and hides his laugh with a forced cough. Gilbert pushes him over.
“You’re probably all wondering why I’m making you do all these exercises,” he begins as John falls into silence, “but I can assure you all there’s a rhyme and a reason.” He takes a deep breath, and John prepares himself for the influx of words they’re probably going to receive.
“This is where we come to the big differences between modern ballet and classical. Ballet is telling a story. Contemporary focuses more on emotions and showing those emotions not just through movement but through facial expressions as well.” Alexander turns on his heel and faces the mirrors. “Can ballet have emotion? Of course. Can contemporary ballet tell a story? It can. But you’ll notice you have more freedom; the song, its meaning, and your dance are all up to interpretation. You take what the song makes you feel... it can be a place, a person, a memory, or a concept, and then you channel it through your movements.
“If I made you all learn a routine and then asked you to perform it individually, I guarantee you there would be differences. Someone may dance slower, hit a move harder, or stop in certain places, all because of the connection they feel with it. Of course, the underlying foundation will remain the same. So today we’re going to learn a small combination and you can learn what this type of dance is all about.”
John swallows nervously. “You’re not going to make us perform individually, will you?” With his inexperience, he’ll basically be following in Gilbert’s footsteps. |
0986cd21c2db49e6a972e977af277f02 | ['a2bc97309db94adf8a0a43f0de1f6ec8'] | “We’d fit just fine through ‘em, _plus_ —” He pointed just above Piper’s head. “—There’s one right here.” Leo seemed so proud of himself and his discovery, it almost hurt Piper to burst his bubble with questions—almost.
“All right, _great_ plan, very clever, even, except for, oh, you know, one major thing— _where_ would it take us? _How_ would we know where to go?” she asked between ragged breaths.
“Oh, well…” Leo looked at the vent again, the cogs in his head spinning faster as he tried finding an answer to her questions. Finally, he snapped his fingers. “Got it— The vents all lead somewhere, Pipes, usually a _machine_.”
“Machine…?” It was then that Piper’s eyes opened wide as it all clicked in her brain—a _machine_ , something Leo could easily track down with the right amount of concentration, and if they found the machine, they’d probably find a maintenance room—hopefully one with an exit. “You’re a _genius_!” She reached out to hug him but stopped quickly when she remembered the reason they’d come here, the one that she’d forgotten entirely. “Um…” She looked to her side to find Joe hunched over in a noticeably uncomfortable angle, still unconscious, of course. “What about Joe?” she asked as she struggled to lift his torso up; her arms couldn’t carry anymore.
“Oh…right.”
“We have to wake him up.”
“Yeah, that would actually be great, except for the fact that _nothing in the world seems to wake him up_.” This last bit he yelled into Joe’s ear as he had leaned closer to him. Naturally, Leo received no reaction from him. “ _Cristo amado_ 3, what have I done to deserve _this?_ ” He pointed at Joe most frustratingly. They’d been running around with him on their shoulders; they’d been shot at; the alarm had only gotten louder, and yet none of those things had woken him up. “It’s hopeless. If we can’t get him out of here, then this would’ve all been for nothing…”
“Well…I could try one thing,” Piper said, slightly turning her head to look at him. It seemed ridiculous to her how calm he seemed—no lines on his face that indicated tension, no uneven breaths that revealed any sort of anxiety--unlike Leo and her stressing over everything. He had no worries, no problems at all, or at least she imagined he believed this. She envied his forced ignorance.
Leo made a face at her. “Please don’t tell me you’re gonna _kiss_ him,” he said. “You don’t know where those lips have been. “ He made a gagging sound at the thought, causing Piper to roll her eyes.
“Don’t be stupid, I’m not gonna _kiss_ him.” She turned again to Joe and grabbed his face with her hands. Slowly, she leaned closer to him and closer, until her lips were by his right ear. Putting all the strength she could into her words, Piper spoke to him. “ _Wake up_ ,” she said almost melodically. Nothing happened, but she stop there. Again, she spoke, this time stronger than before, pouring all the will she could into the words she spoke, hoping that it would be enough. “ _Wake up!_ ”
Sparks then started flying and ran across the room and into the ceiling, killing the emergency lights in the room and causing both Piper and Leo to jump on the spot. Glass exploded around them, drowning out the sound of the alarm outside, and they both huddled up together and away from the boy they’d tried to awaken. Confusion and panic coursed through their bodies as the room itself felt like containment for a storm—a storm in which they stood in the eye of. Piper nervously traced back the sparks to its source with her eyes, leading her back to where she’d sat before. And there _he_ sat, sparks still flying out of him, providing the only light in the entire room. But light wasn’t needed to see what was already obvious—they could tell by the surge of power coming out of him and the way he trembled as it did, but most of all, his eyes surged with more electricity than any blast of energy could at that moment—terrifyingly as clear as day.
He was awake.
Their _Joe_ was awake.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Translated Spanish phrases and/or sentences:
> 1 -- Jesus in Heaven
> 2 -- Friends
> 3 -- Dear Christ
>
> ____
> Many thanks to my two beta readers! Bless your souls for putting up with me~<3 | 2f7c3798e52b4e95aa11e48a55e03b15 | ['a2bc97309db94adf8a0a43f0de1f6ec8'] |
1. Chapter 1
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Short drabble I wrote for the "Pictures Meme: Romantic Shipping Version" on tumblr a few months ago.
**Drabble I**
“Jason, stop fidgeting.”
“But Pipes—“
“No ‘buts’. Hold still.” Piper was no professional masseuse, but she did know a thing or two about massages. She knew there were knots so deep and complicated on Jason’s bare back that it was hard to loosen them up. She also knew she was going to need more than just her hands to work with them. Pushing his upper body further down, she dug her elbow onto the other’s back, her hands now tired from trying to loosen up the dreaded knots for ten minutes straight.
“Piper, that _hurts_!” Jason complained onto his knees, holding on to his legs as tight as he could even though he wasn’t supposed to.
“And whose fault is that?”
Shrill screams came from Jason as she pressed both her elbows just below his neck. He mumbled something then; it sounded somewhat like a sob, but Piper knew better. “What was that, Sparky?” She pressed harder as she made circles with her elbows on his back. More screaming came, this time a bit more muffled. “I can’t _hear_ you!”
“It’s _my_ fault! _It’s my fault!”_ he finally admitted. That’s when Piper decided to soften up for a few seconds, enough time to let him recover.
Leaning down on his back and propping her chin on her arms, Piper stopped the massage altogether and sighed. “I warned you about doing that obstacle course with Percy, didn’t I?” Jason groaned under her. She _had_ warned him, but he’d let this continuous ~~friendly~~ competition he had with Percy get the better of him, making him budge easily into participating in the race which had, ultimately, resulted in no winner. This last bit had been due to some obstacle crumbling down on them after both Percy and Jason fought to get to the top of a climbing wall at the same time. In summary, it hadn’t ended pretty.
“’m sorry,” he mumbled, turning his head so his words could be understood. “I won’t do it again.”
Piper pursed her lips and knit her brows. Being a daughter of Aphrodite, she could do a few things, and one of them was being able to read people, no matter how “indisposed” they appeared to be. Slipping her hand to the side of his torso just above his waist and pinched him. “Don’t lie to me, Jason Grace.”
“ _Ow—_ Pipes, I’m not lying!” But he didn’t exactly mean it either.
“Yeah, don’t expect me to believe that.” She was teasing him at this point.
Standing up straight again, Piper dug her elbows on his back again, rubbing more circles on it but not with nearly as much pressure as before. From her elbows to her forearms to her palms, she soon found herself massaging Jason with her hands again. After a few minutes of silence, she began patting his back and spoke again. “You know there isn’t anything you need to prove, right?” She waited for a reply but nothing came. “Jason?” She shook him this time, managing to get a quiet hum to escape him.
It only took Piper a few seconds to notice what had happened and just a few more to roll her eyes. Jason had fallen asleep, and in a very uncomfortable position, in the midst of the massage, leaving her to talk to herself. In any other occasion, Piper would’ve woken him up abruptly—that’s just how much their relationship had grown—but knowing just how tired he was, she simply put a blanket over the blond’s shoulders and placed a small kiss on his cheek, choosing to let him rest in his weird yoga position, most likely another pain he’d have to deal with in the morning.
_Not my problem_ , she decided.
He’d have to deal with that pain all by himself.
2. Chapter 2
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Drabble I wrote as a sequel to a friend's short drabble, but it can be read on its own.
>
> If you wish to read my friend's drabble, you can find it LINK.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Warning: This drabble contains mentions of child death and suggested suicidal thoughts
**Drabble II**
Piper often wondered if her fatal flaw was loving too much, or that her same sense of seeing possibilities made her love too easily. No matter which one it was, former or latter or any other reason, it all resulted in the same thing: her, lying on the bed she shared with Jason for countless of hours a day, shutting herself out from the world.
Jason had tried, gods knew he’d tried—Piper knew he’d tried—to at least get her out of bed, but each and every single time, it had been in vain. She wouldn’t budge or talk or do much of anything. She’d stopped caring about food at some point, though that didn’t stop Jason from feeding her. They were a team, husband and wife, he couldn’t just abandon her. She’d given up on life, really; you could see it in her now cloudy eyes. Still, he continued to try each day, and, when he was out working, Annabeth or Hazel would come over to help out. They refused to give up on her.
But she’d already given up on herself, and that much was obvious. And they knew—they were sure she was slipping away from them; Jason was certain it wouldn’t take long before she tried—He stopped himself from going into that train of thought. It wasn’t healthy for him or her or _them._ But were they still a healthy relationship?
He hated admitting it to himself or to anyone at all, but they really had fallen apart, ever since—He paused and cleared his thoughts, This was no time to be thinking about that, though, in hindsight, he hadn’t given himself anytime to think about it at all yet. Nevertheless, it wasn’t the time for it.
As Jason sat next to her on the bed, Piper hugged her knees closer to her chest. “You should try to get out more,” he told her. It was the same thing he told her every day, and every day she would turn him down by shaking her head and then burying it on her knees. Today she did the same, knowing very well that she wasn’t being fair to Jason, but then, _nothing_ was being fair to them at all, anyway. Ever since the… accident, everything had gone straight down to Tartarus, with their lives doing a whole 180 on them and leaving them destroyed and distraught. This had, of course, affected Piper in a much more visible way, and Jason, well, he was trying his best to keep strong for the both of them.
“Did you get any sleep?” he asked, his voice gentle. Piper shook her head lightly in reply, not lifting her face up at any moment. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he began rubbing circles there as he asked, “Nightmares, again?” A nod came from her before she threw herself in his arms and buried her face on his chest.
“I saw them. I saw—monsters and our—“ Her voice broke. He knew what she’d wanted to say; he knew it hurt. He didn’t push her for more. Instead, he tried calming her down. “Shh, it’s okay,” he told her, his arms curling up around her body. “Don’t force yourself to tell me. You don’t have to.” This was actually a step-up for them compared to the past few weeks, in which Piper had turned down any type of affection, be it platonic or romantic, and any form of physical contact that wasn’t necessary. To have her here in his arms now, _today,_ it meant that maybe Piper wasn’t so far gone yet.
No, she wasn’t gone, and she didn’t believe she ever would be. But when you lost someone close to you, someone that meant so much to you, someone you came to love in the short time they were with you—when you lost someone that had been a part of you for the longest time, a young soul that had just barely begun taking in the wonders of the world—when you lost a child—it was no wonder people would ask themselves if they still remained sane.
Piper often wondered if her fatal flaw was loving too much, or that her same sense of seeing possibilities made her love too easily, but now she knew that the real answer lay in losing the ones she loved. |
32ddc0e0c9f34bd9ab1b976934afe749 | ['a2ffea0b427c46378fa08437245746a3'] | Rolling my eyes, I watch as they walk to the middle of the room, where a ring is placed on the floor.
I look around really fast and see that there are tons of weapons, bags, targets, everything. Neeks is going to basically live in this room.
Nico Pov
Thalia and I circle around each other for a few seconds before she launches herself at me.
I step to the side and throw a round kick straight into her gut. She grunts but immediately retaliates by spinning around and landing a spinning back kick on my side.
I stagger back, gaining my balance again. I charge back in at her, but when she lifts her legs to attack, I cut to her left and punch her square in the chest, making her fall back.
She hits the ground but throws her leg out the side and it hooks around my ankle and sends me tumbling to the ground. She moves to get on top of me, but I roll out of the way, right back onto my feet and try to stop on her chest. She backs out of the way, getting onto her feet again.
"You've gotten faster, Underground." She taunts.
I nod, smirking. "Can't say the same for you, Pinecone." I respond.
Thalia growls, throwing all her weight at me. At the last possible second, I move out of her way and grab her by her arm, throwing her over my shoulder, Annabeth style, making her land on her back hard.
She gasps for breath and blindly throws her arm up to hit me in the face. Her fist connects with my jaw, knocking it out of place. My eyes widen as I straddle her and punch her in the nose, feeling it crack under my knuckles.
She yells in pain and rolls us over, so she is on top of me now. She grabs my hair and yanks my head up, slamming it back on the ground. I grunt and land another shot on her mouth, splitting her lip.
Thalia gets one last punch in, straight into my left eye, before Will breaks us apart.
"Okay guys, that's enough. If you keep going someone is going to get killed!" He yells.
She gets off me, offering me a hand. She pulls me up and into a hug.
"Good fight man, you've gotten better." She says when we pull away.
I chuckle and nod at her. "Not so bad yourself. You've gotten stronger." She laughs as we head over to where Reyna has been watching the whole time.
The Roman girl just shakes her head at me, smiling.
"I hope you know I'm not going to heal those injuries. You did this to each other knowing this would happen." Will says.
"What about my jaw, she broke it!" I say in shock.
"Yeah, and my nose!" Thalia exclaims.
Will sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'll heal those, but the cuts and bruises have to heal on their own." He says with a sigh.
Thalia and I fist bump and walk over to the chairs in the corner of the room.
Will walks in front of me and places his hand on my jaw, healing it. He does the same to Thalia's nose and we head back out into the commons.
When Jason sees us, he stands in alarm. "Who did that to you guys?" He asks angrily.
"Jay, calm the fuck down man. We were sparring. This is normal for us, get over it." Thalia says, plopping down onto the couch next to Percy.
I walk over and sit next to her, putting my legs into her lap. Percy leans over and gives each of us a fist bump. Jason just stares at us like we're aliens.
"Jason, if you keep staring at me like that I'm going to start to think you have a crush on me." I say to him. This seems to knock him out of this state, flushing.
Will chuckles and walks over, sitting behind me on the arm of the couch. He leans down and kisses the top of my head, laying his hand on my shoulder.
We all chat for a while before we head to bed, ready for the day tomorrow.
5. The One Where Hermione Gets On Nicos Nerves
Nico Pov
Waking up wrapped in your boyfriend's arms tends to be pretty nice. But when you have to pee, it's a deathtrap. I wiggle my way out of his arms, so I can relieve myself. When I'm washing my hands in our bathroom, Will comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, nuzzling his face into my neck. I hum and continue to wash my hands.
"You weren't in bed and I was confused." He mumbles, lips brushing my neck.
I turn off the water and lean towards the towel to dry my hands, dragging Will with me. "Sorry, amore. I didn't want to wake you up. But since you are, brush your teeth so I can kiss you." I say with a smile.
Will mumbles an okay as he begins to brush his teeth. I brush mine alongside him and he playfully bumps his hip against mine. Rolling my eyes, I continue to brush.
When we are both done, he grabs me by my hips and pulls me close. "Can I kiss you now?" He asks softly.
I smile and nod my head, already moving in. Will kisses me soft and sweet, bringing one hand up to cup my jaw. "Ow." I wince when he makes contact with my jaw.
He pulls away, eyes worried. His eyes focus on my jaw and he chuckles. "I forgot that you broke this. You've got one wicked bruise and black eye." Will exclaims. | 7668d177db9340c0a12c9eefeaebc566 | ['a2ffea0b427c46378fa08437245746a3'] | We take so many turns, that I have no clue where we are anymore. I'm going to get so lost. "So, your dorms are set up very similar to the house dorms. Except there are seven rooms instead of having a boys and girl dorm hall. When we get to the entry way, a password must be said to enter. The pass word for you is the word Mythology. When you enter there is a commons area where you can sit by the fire, study, anything. It's your commons after all. Then there are two halls for your rooms. Headmaster Chiron said that it would be fine to label them as the Roman hall and the Greek hall. I'm sure you guys know what it means just fine. There is also a door leading out of the commons that I'm sure you will enjoy what is behind. It's a special gift from your headmaster. Here are your respective schedules. We have arrived. Good luck tomorrow, students." She finishes. McGonagall turns and walks back down the hall she came from.
I turn towards the door and my eyes widen. On the front of it there is a Pegasus surrounded by the laurel of the romans. It's so intricately designed, I have a feeling I know who designed it as well. Well played Ms. Dare.
"Mythology." Hazel says to the door. It swings open and every demigod’s jaws drop.
4. The One Where They Fight
Will Pov
Just the common room of our dorm is gorgeous.
At the back of the room there is a grand fireplace with a portrait of the 12 Olympians above it. I roll my eyes at it and scan the rest of the room. Surrounding the fireplace is an arrangement of couches and chairs. Each of them looking extremely fluffy and a beautiful silver color. On each side of the fire place is a door way with 'Romans', on the left, and 'Greeks', on the right, over them.
On the far left of the room there are 4 tables and chairs, made for us to study. On that wall there are nearly empty book shelves for us to put any books we have on.
The right wall is mostly bare. There is a door in the center with hooks on each side of them. Above the door is a sign that reads 'Training'.
"How are we supposed to know whose rooms are who's? Chiron said we weren't going to mess with the sleeping arrangements we have currently, but, like... I'm Roman and Piper is Greek... So, what do we do there?" Jason asks.
I shrug and look down at the coffee table below me. "Hey look!" I say happily, holding up a piece of paper I found. "This has the halls we need!"
Reyna walks over and takes it from me, reading it over. "Will, Nico, Annabeth, Percy, Thalia, Leo, and Calypso are all in the Greek dorms. Everyone else, Roman." She says finally.
We all nod and head to our halls.
When I walk through the doorway, I'm faced with a wall. But when I turn to the left, there is a spiral staircase leading up and down.
Nico takes my hand and starts going down the staircase. "Why do you assume we are the ones in the lower level." I ask him, rolling my eyes.
"Just a feeling. Plus, I like the dark and dark means down." He says with a smirk. I chuckle and let him lead me down to our so-called room.
When we reach the bottom, there is a landing with a door to the right. On the door there is a plaque that says, 'Solace and di Angelo".
"Well, I'll be damned. You were right death boy." I say, somewhat amused. He sticks his tongue out at me and pushes his way into our room.
When I make my way in I see that it's not anything spectacular. In the center of the room is a big bed with royal purple bedding. On each side is a nightstand with small balls on them that seem to be producing light.
The right wall is black and looks like chalkboard while the rest of them are a medium grey color. On the left wall there are two walk in closets where our clothes have been magically placed inside. Cool, right!
On the left of the bed there is an art easel and a desk on the right side.
I look over at Nico, who is already laying on the bed, head at the foot, staring at the ceiling. Sitting next to him, I lift his head and place it in my lap. "What do you think?" I ask, playing with his hair.
"It's all so surreal. This may be the first shot we get at a somewhat normal life. I'm scared and so excited." He says quietly, his eyes shutting as I rake my fingers through his hair.
I hum at him, knowing completely what he means. We stay there like this for a few more minutes before getting up and going back to the common room.
When we arrive, we find Thalia and Reyna sitting in the chairs, talking quietly. When they hear us, they stop talking and look up at us and smile. "We were about to check out the training room, wanna come?" Thalia asks.
"Sure." Nico replies, pulling me towards the room. It almost seems like training is all Nico does. I mean, it's not, but he really does love to.
When the door opens, he gasps quietly beside me. Letting go of my hand he walks to the center of the room.
"Hey, Thalia. Wanna spar? For old times’ sake?" He asks, a glimmer in his eye that he only gets when he's fighting.
"You're on, Death Breath! No powers?" She asks.
"No powers. Just skill."
"Let's do this." She answers, smirking. |
cebcdaf949494ec2a14bcd9a8c5f088d | ['a31588222d0d4475909279c8dc3f2611'] | Quarry
It was a sunny day in Derry when the seven seniors gathered at the quarry. Being 18, they had graduation slowly creeping up on them, so they came up with a plan to hang out once more before they graduated.
The first to arrive was Richie and Beverly, who Mike then walked in on and joined in smoking weed and laughing their asses off in floating duck tubes. Next to arrive was Stan and Eddie shortly after who (surprise surprise) was wearing two fanny packs. Eddie complained about not wanting to kiss someone with weed on their breath which quickly made Richie throw the joint into the dirt and extinguish with his shoe sadly. And then last Ben and Bill rocked up greeting everyone with a hug and a fist bump.
When everyone arrived at the quarry Richie took his shirt off and threw it at Eddie’s face, who just giggled and smiled lovingly.
After Richie shed his shirt, Ben, Mike and Beverly followed suit, Richie, Mike and Ben fawning over Bev’s figure. Eddie frowned and threw his inhaler at Richie’s head and Richie laughed uncontrollably. Beverly laughed at the boys and jumped onto Ben’s back, the two running for the water and falling over almost as soon as they reached it.
Stan and Bill both took off their shirts and Bill stared proudly at the red scratches over Stan’s shoulders and down his back. Stan then turned to look at Bill and stared, horrified at the hickeys trailing from Bill’s neck to his bare chest.
“Holy fucking shit!” Richie’s voice echoed loudly.
Mike, Stan and Bill all looked at Richie. “Shit dude I could have sworn Stan was a bottom. Fuck,” Richie exclaimed.
Mike turned to look at Bill and Stan and laughed loudly. Stan looked utterly concerned while Bill looked confused.
“Pay up bitch,” Mike cackled, earning a groan from Richie.
“Hey babe can I borrow ten from ya? I’ll pay you back tomorrow, promise,” Richie asked Eddie, who was applying sunscreen to his legs, completely unfazed by the situation.
“Yeah sure. You don’t have to pay me back,” the boy said, gesturing to the fanny pack slung over his bike handle. Richie smiled and grabbed the $10 from Eddie’s fanny pack to give to Mike as Stan watched, his cheeks red at the realisation that they had a bet on who was the top and who was the bottom.
_Like Bill could be a top._ Stan laughed internally. _He can barely even bottom._
“I have to say Stan the Man did a mighty fine job on Big Bill over there,” Richie laughed. “Eds won’t let me give him hickeys. I think he’s scared Mrs K will dismember me with her bare hands.”
They all laughed at that and Mike clapped Richie on the back.
“Wait why does Stan have scratches on his back? Is he okay? What are you guys talking about?” Ben asked from the water, looking concerned.
All six losers turned and looked at Ben until the lightbulb in his head dinged and let out an ‘oooooh’ sound. Bev laughed at the dork and splashed him in the face.
Mike tucked the ten dollar note in his trousers that were lying on the ground near his bike and everyone jumped into the quarry. Except Stan and Bill.
Stan faced the quarry and watched his friends play around in the water, the sun shining onto his pink cheeks and his curls brushed to the side from the light breeze.
The boy nearly jumped out of his skin when two hands grabbed his hips.
“You okay beautiful?” Bill’s voice said lowly next to Stan’s ear, his hands pulling Stan’s marked back flush against his body. Stan stutters out a flustered ‘y-yeah’ and turned his head to the side slightly.
Bill’s hand slowly traces over Stan’s stomach and then back around to his waist.
“Well, I have to say, I think y-you look really hot with these..” Bill whispers with only single stutter and then lightly touches one of the red marks on Stan’s shoulder blade from the other night.
Stan breathes out a shaky ‘fuck’ and arches his back under his boyfriends touch. Bill grins at that and turns Stan around.
“You’re fucking killing me stop it,” Stan says shakily and glances at Bill’s blue eyes then down to his toned chest, sprinkled with red-purple marks.
Bill just smiles, lifts Stan’s chin up, leans in and captures Stan’s pink bottom lip between his teeth and pulls back, releasing it as his nails rake down Stan’s back just like it had only three nights ago in the back of Stan’s car with only the yellow glow of the street lamps illuminating them through the foggy windows.
Stan is fucking breathless as Bill looks proud of himself and jumps into the water laughing, leaving a flustered Stan clenching and unclenching his sweaty palms.
**Author's Note:**
> hope it was alright
> my tumblr: https://richiemotherfuckingtozier.tumblr.com/
> hmu with a request if ya want | 807d6bbf088843d693831b594d41480b | ['a31588222d0d4475909279c8dc3f2611'] |
Polaroids
**Author's Note:**
> spelling and all that jazz is probably shit but im tired i wanna go to bed.
“Eddie?” Mrs Kaspbrak’s voice echoed up the stairs and into Eddie’s room as soon as he heard the front door opened. “Come downstairs Eddie, I have a surprise for you!”
A surprise?
Eddie placed his pencil on his math homework and hurried down the stairs to where his mother stood in the kitchen.
“Hi Ma, what surprise?” Eddie asked curiously. Last time his mother said those exact words she had bought him a daily timetable so he could keep track of when he had to take his pills. It’s the thought that counts, he had told himself.
“Well, I know how you’ve been spending a lot of time with that Marsh girl and all of those boys lately,” Sonia’s smile deepened to a frown. “So I bought you something I thought you might enjoy using, instead of hanging out with that group.” Her lips turned up into a smile once again.
Eddie opened his mouth to defend himself and his friends when his mother reached behind her and pulled a box out of a paper bag and placed it in Eddie’s hands, brushed his hair back with her fingers and kissed his forehead.
“Go back up to your room and have a play with it Eddie,” Mrs Kaspbrak told him.
Eddie did as he was told, thanking his mother and looking down at the packaging as he walked back up the steps.
A camera?
\---
Over the following few days Eddie had been in his backyard taking photographs of his mother’s flowers with his new Polaroid camera.
He was really angry at the fact that his mom bought him a new camera just to keep him away from his friends and he will admit that he did think it was stupid at first, but now he couldn't seem to put the camera down.
Eddie was looking forward to going to school today. There would be lots to take pictures of, he thought. He thought his friends would also think his camera was cool.
So when Eddie was packing his bag for school, he packed his new Polaroid along with his books and pencil cases, along with his first-aid kit (as usual.)
Eddie was planning on taking pictures of some of the graffiti in the boys bathroom, or the Losers Club out at recess, but the artsy photographer that had recently been awoken somewhere deep inside of Eddie could only notice how beautiful Richie looked today. When the group was at lunch he couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty Trashmouth Richie looked as he smiled over at Bill with the sun shining behind him, so Eddie took a snap and quickly hid the photograph in his fanny pack once it had finished developing.
This went on for a while; Eddie capturing Richie in the best moments when he was smiling, showing off those adorable dimples, winking or riding his bike and stashing the masterpieces away in his fanny pack to gush over when he was back home and for once Eddie was truly grateful for something his mother did for him.
\---
It was a Wednesday afternoon when Richie and Eddie were riding home after school. They had driven past Eddie’s house and down to Richie’s to hang out for a bit when Richie swerved his bike towards Eddie’s, knocking him over and laughing.
“What the fuck Richie!?” Eddie screeched, out of breath and fumbled with the zipper of his dear fanny pack for his inhaler.
“Don’t be a princess Eds! There’s not even a scratch on you, your Highness,” Richie snorted, watching Eddie’s hands rummage his fanny pack.
Eddie did successfully pull out his inhaler, but simultaneously pulled out all 14 Polaroids he had taken of the other boy over the past week, eyes opening wide at he scrambled to pick up all of the photographs that had scattered over the road before Richie had seen them.
“Hey whatcha got there Eddie-Boy?” Richie asked, dismounting his bike and moving closer to the flustered boy on the ground.
“Nothing! Just fuck off Trashmouth,” Eddie retorted, composing himself and the photos before getting back on his bike.
\---
“So take any cool pics with this thing?” Richie wondered, examining Eddie’s newfound treasure and then looking over to Eddie’s blushing face with a smirk.
“Uh yeah,” Eddie stood up. “I have to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”
“Ya know, I this were mine you know what I’d use it for?” Richie had an all too familiar grin on his face that Eddie hated and loved so much.
“I swear to God Trashmouth, if you say one more goddamn thing about my mother I am going ditch that camera at your fucking face,” Eddie remarked before leaving the room.
Richie let out a laugh and the smile stay on his lips as he lifted himself off of his reclined position on his bed and made his way over to Eddie’s neat pile of belongings on the floor. He picked up Eddie’s stupid fucking fanny pack and opened the zip, digging around until he found the photographs that had just recently been spilled on the gravel outside of his house. He sat back down on his bed and flicked through the pile, nothing but a fuzzy happiness in his stomach. ‘his chocolate brown eyes melt my heart’ was written on one of the photos and ‘so fucking cute’ was written messily on another.
The door to Richie’s room had reopened and Eddie returned to his seat on the floor of Richie’s floor, not sparing him even a glance. “You know I’m starting to think that y-”
“You know when I said ‘take a picture it’ll last longer’ I didn’t think that you’d take it literally,” Richie said with a smirk.
Eddie’s eyes snapped up to Richie who waved the stack of photos in his hand.
“W-what’s that?” |
c23fd88d3f054d4a95c209cc203c7e28 | ['a3416827920f42a4a6b376bf7f19f8b7'] | _The strings beam with yellowish light, inviting me to trace them to reach the person on the other end. Like the clew from that one Greek myth, they promise to help me and lead the way out of this labyrinth. But that's a trick._
_When I reach out to grasp one of the strings, it gets taunt and white-hot, shinning like a streak of lightning. My fingers are numbed. I feel a tingling sensation of electricity coursing through my body. It's like this lightning is feeding on my energy, using it as fuel._
_My only chance to escape is to ride on this lightning. But I hesitate. I'm afraid. If my connection isn't strong enough, if the person on the other end won't be able to become my lightning rod will the line snap and will the Speed Force pull me back in? How many tries will I have before it saps all my strength and I cease to exist?_
_I have to make my mind soon. While I am still me. Before it's too late._
_I might not succeed, but at least it will be like a good-bye tour. As I fade away I will be able to see the people important to me one last time. This is worth a try._
* * *
TBC
As always thanks for the wait!
I was planning something else for Ch4, but as many of you have been wondering about Barry I thought that I'll have him make an appearance a little bit earlier in the story. :)
Sorry for the first person pov, I hope it wasn't an eyesore :P but that's my idea of relaing a first-hand experience of what being inside the Speed Force might _feel_ like.
Back to S.T.A.R. Labs team and Snart in the next chapter~ | 06b1700411ed4de79d4548ec6306b40b | ['a3416827920f42a4a6b376bf7f19f8b7'] | _I was reminded of that fact when I went back in time and risked everything to try to save my mother. I was going to sacrifice my present life, my relationships, all that I held dear – change the whole time line just to rescue one person. No one would stop me, so I almost did go through with it. But, changing millions of lives, erasing them even… that should not have been my choice to make. Yet for a moment I felt selfish enough to think that I was entitled to it. Just because I was a hero I deemed that the World was indebted to me. Selfish… And wrong, especially when nothing stops you from abusing your power to collect that supposed debt._
_As I think back it was always a race with fate to tip the scales in my favor. I would be so caught up in my new life as a hero that helping someone was all that mattered. I wouldn't keep a precise score of course, but somehow as long as it felt like I've saved more people than I've put in danger, I could easily justify my actions. I should've known better. I'm a forensic scientist too, you know. So it's a shame that for so long I couldn't connect the dots and see the whole picture and the true cause behind the recent major tragedies that had befallen Central City._
_Everything has changed when I met Zoom. Suddenly it has become all too clear not to notice. I - the Flash - was the cause of misfortune for Central City. The symbol that I've become, my powers they were a beacon that attracted villains to the city. To challenge me, to rob me of my powers._
_I never stopped being selfish. So, even when I had a chance to let go of my powers and once more become an ordinary person, time and time again I've decided to keep my powers and to continue being the Flash. I'd like to say that I've made this choice out of the sense of duty – after all what real hero could bear the thought of quitting saving people. However, that wasn't the only reason. I simply feared to lose control over my own fate, become helpless. I couldn't help thinking that I'd rather be a danger to the people around me, but at the same time be able to protect them, rather than become completely powerless. I may be putting someone at risk, but I will always be there to save every last one of them no matter what. That is what I kept telling myself. I sincerely believed that I was capable of fulfilling this promise too._
_If I'm to make an excuse, I could say that for me being a hero was never solely about saving the innocent. There are the villains too, and you can't leave them out of the picture. However naïve it may sound, not all of them are irredeemably evil, they do have their reasons. I opt to believe that my encounters with them mean something. I'm sure, the Flash can be more than just a force to stop them, but also someone who can get through to them. Most people have something good in them. If I tried hard enough, I might be even able to persuade them to change their ways. It is always worth a try._
_Sometimes people who are accused are no villains at all. To err is human. But when the Law is blind, small but crucial details tend to be ignored, and good men end up in prison for the crimes they did not commit. Like my dad. No one believed a kid eyewitness. No one wanted to hold space for the impossible; they just went with the simpler theory of an abusive father._
_The Flash, however, is himself the impossible, so he won't make the same mistake, he will always be willing to believe in people, willing to listen, and get to the bottom of things. If to unveil the truth he has to believe in the impossible, he will do just that without a second thought._
_I decided to become the Flash, because I wanted real justice for my dad. I wanted to make a difference, so I've vowed to help people._
_Now, of course, it is too late for this kind of promises. I am no longer a protector of Central City. I'm not even there anymore. The fact is, I don't know, where I am. Well, maybe that's not quite accurate. I have an idea what this place, this dimension might be. My guess is, I'm inside the Speed Force. The mysterious source of the Flash's power. This notion, however, doesn't change the fact that I'm terribly lost. Drifting through this foreign dimension with no means to return to the real World. Honestly, I'm not entirely sure that I'm still alive. I don't like thinking too much about this, though. It's too weird really and terrifying._
_This place is nowhere – an abyss of pure energy, and I'm travelling through its tremulous shimmering mass with no real sense of direction. I'm scared, because it's so easy to let your body dissolve in the flow and lose all sense of self._
_This place is everywhere. I strain to remember who I am, and the Speed Force lets me see it. Visions from my memory, but also the things I could've never seen myself – scenes from distant past, glimpses of the future, and most importantly fragments of other people's lives._
_A multitude of thin barely visible strings that connect me to other people, pull me toward them. These people are no strangers; I can feel that one way or another I am connected to all of them. Maybe they can help me._ |
d05128722fd14823bdd4f6fc4207ee52 | ['a3d4d2527c0f414b99e52f7114cffd40'] |
The Marks that Remain
**_Build the Wall_ **
Dean had a teddy bear.
Beau was a soft brown and he wore a blue scarf around his neck. He's gone now, he burned with Mommy in the fire, but Before, Dean used to drag him _everywhere_ . To the dinner table, to the backyard, out to the car to watch Daddy work, to the market and the library and the park and later, when Mommy had Sammy in her tummy, to the doctor's office. By the time Sammy was born, Beau was missing one patch of fur around his left paw and another from the top of his head, where Dean used to snuggle into him as he slept. When he started wearing big-boy jocks like Daddy and had to use the toilet, he'd sit Beau on top of the cistern to scare away the ghost he was never quite sure _wasn't_ going to come out with the awful flushing sound. When he skinned his knee learning to ride his bike, Mommy wrapped up Beau's leg in a bandage just like Dean's. When Dean got the chickenpox and he itched _everywhere_ , even between his toes, Daddy tucked them both up on the couch and let them watch videos til long after their bedtime. Sometimes Beau even had a bath with him, though Mommy never seemed quite as pleased with this as Dean was.
Wesley is Sammy's bear. Daddy bought it for him, After, for Sammy's first birthday. Wesley is no where near as brown or cuddly as Beau and he has a stupid yellow hat instead of a blue scarf, but Sammy loves him. He takes Wesley everywhere he goes. Some days, he even asks Daddy to strap him into the seatbelt in the backseat next to him, which Dean thinks is just plain stupid because the seatbelt doesn't never fits properly and Sammy almost always picks him back up five minutes later. But Daddy always does it, though he draws a line at ordering Wesley a meal of his own when they stop for lunch or dinner.
Once, Dean steals Wesley when his brother's asleep and hides him. It's kinda funny to watch Sammy tearing through the hotel room and pawing through the contents of their duffle bags in search of him. Dean gives him back before Sammy gets _really_ upset, though - before Dad notices that Sam's crying. He hands over the teddy bear and Sammy clutches it to his tummy and tells Dean that he's _real mean_ . Dean mumbles something about only _babies_ need a teddy bear and Sammy sorta sniffs and protests that he's not a baby, but he doesn't give up his hold on Wesley.
And Dean feels kinda bad then, because he remembers Beau and how awful it was for those first few days after Mommy died, when he knew he'd never have Beau to cuddle again.
But he doesn't tell Sammy that, because Dean is the Big Brother, not the baby. He just rumples Sammy's hair and asks him if wants Cheerios or Lucky Charms for dinner.
* * *
** _Time so Slowly Turns_**
Dad's a better cook than Mom ever was.
They’re sitting at the kitchen table, Dean and Sam on one side and Dad on the other. Sam's picking at the stew Dad made, poking through the stuff in his bowl with his fork, scowling deeply. He doesn't want to eat it. It has carrots.
Dad doesn't look up from the paper. Stop playing with it and eat it, Sammy.
It has _carrots_ , Sam says again, as though carrots are the reason he has to go to bed at eight instead of eight thirty, and brush his teeth at the sink instead of the shower, and wear Dean's old hand-me-down sweater for his first day of school.
Trevor's mom doesn't make Trevor eat carrots. Trevor's mom wouldn't make stew with carrots in it because she knows that Trevor doesn't like carrots. Sammy glares at Dad and continues to poke at the stew. I bet Mom wouldn't make me eat carrots, he mutters, not quite under his breath. I bet she'd make me pizza or sausages with potatoes and that cheesy cauliflower stuff, or pasketti.
Dad's mouth twitches.
Dean wonders if Dad, like Dean, is remembering the time Mom tried to make spaghetti. It was a few weeks after Sammy was born and Mom, who try as she might could never manage to cook more than a steak and some vegetables without burning it or setting something on fire, thought it would be a good idea to surprise Daddy with a birthday dinner. She and Dean and Sammy walked down to the market and bought what they needed to make it, and later, when Sammy went to bed for a nap, Mom lifted Dean up onto the bench so he could help her. It was his job to hold the book open and point to the ingredients she needed - the red tomatoes and the minced meat and the special stinky cheese.
By the time Daddy got home, there was garlic bread wrapped in silver foil and a special bottle of wine - for adults only, Dean-o; you can have some pop - and a clean tablecloth on the table. Mom managed to find three matching plates and a full set of knives and forks, and Dean helped her lay the table. Mom sent him out into the backyard to find some flowers and she arranged the yellow ones he picked in a tumbler full of water right in the middle of the table. The table looked perfect.
The spaghetti wasn't perfect. | cd656c1664eb43e982e7ce71bfab2e5c | ['a3d4d2527c0f414b99e52f7114cffd40'] | Sarah falls from the monkey bars at school and skins her knee. It’s bad enough for the school to call Danny, and bad enough that Danny takes one look at it and calls in to take the rest of the afternoon off. He gets her home, carries her inside and sits her on the kitchen table, then doses her with Tylenol before pulling out the antiseptic and gauze. “This is going to hurt a bit, babe,” he warns her. Though he cleans out the wound as gently as he can and Sarah tries to be stoic, she’s only four and she’s a sobbing, hiccupping mess before he’s done. Afterwards, he bandages her knee and she crawls into his lap for cuddles and comfort. “You’re such a brave girl,” he tells her, kissing her forehead and her cheek and rubbing her back. “I’m so proud.”
“I don’t want to brave,” she says – softly, and so sadly it breaks his heart. “I just want my Daddy.”
He hugs her to him. “I know, babe. I know.” And he hates that he doesn’t have anything more to give her beyond the acknowledgement that he knows just how she feels.
It surprises Danny, when he stops to think about it – which he doesn’t, because it’s like a kick in the gut each time – to find that through it all, life somehow moves on. Gracie makes the honor roll at school. Danny has the car serviced. Sarah and Grace combine forces to make a bright purple cake for Danny’s birthday. Sarah loses her first tooth (which is to say it’s loose for approximately three days before she manages to wriggle it free with her tongue: “It’s better out than in, Danno,” she informs him, and sounds so much like her father he can’t help his snort of laughter). Danny mows the lawn. He takes Sarah swimming every afternoon. He does the groceries and the laundry and the housework. He goes to work. He comes home again.
Sometimes, he can’t help the nagging feeling that it’s always been like this and it _will_ always be like this – just Danny and Sarah (with Grace on the weekends), alone in the house which is paradoxically too big without Steve but just right for the two (or three) of them. Where for the first few months the whole island seemed to be full of places Steve should have been but wasn’t, now Danny finds himself wondering if Steve had ever sat at the kitchen table with them for dinner – swam with Sarah – did the groceries – painted the lounge room – slept in the other half of the bed, warm and solid against Danny’s back.
Which is stupid, of course, because he knows logically that Steve _was_ here and did each of those things. He _knows_ it. He just can’t shake the feeling that this is all he’s ever known.
And he’s tired – bone deep, to the core _tired_. Sarah is his daughter in every way that matters, as dear to him as Gracie and as loved. But he’s tired of fighting with her over brushing her hair after her bath, of dealing with her rare but epic meltdowns, of having to find her wet towel and hang it up every damn day. She’s a good girl, a great kid, and he loves her with everything he has and he hates himself for feeling this way, but he signed up for co-parenting and sometimes his current situation feels more like a burden than a blessing.
He never admits this to Steve. He never really admits it to himself, either.
And then – finally, finally – they get the news they’ve been waiting for: confirmation, in the form of a written email, of Steve’s return date. Sarah runs up stairs and thunders back down a few moments later, shouting ecstatically that “it’s only _fifteen days_ , Danno!”.
It’s may be fifteen days on the calendar; it feels like fifty. Sarah gets progressively more excited with each passing day, til Danny has to all but sit on her to get her into bed at night. He and the girls clean the house from top to bottom and Danny catches up on all the laundry. They go to the market and return laden with bags of Steve’s favourite foods. Danny makes sure there’s a fresh bottle of Steve’s shampoo in the shower, a new can of shaving cream by the sink. He changes the sheets on the bed.
He even gets a hair cut, hoping no one will notice, but of course Kono does and she teases him about it, gently enough that she manages to get a laugh out of him.
Rachel is convinced Sarah needs new clothes to welcome her father home. Danny protests that her usual denim cutoffs and t-shirts will be just fine but Rachel is eager to do it and Danny caves, sending Rachel, Grace and Sarah off with Danny’s credit card, which he knows damn well Rachel won’t use. They return a few hours later with armfuls of bags. Rachel’s taken the opportunity to have Sarah’s hair cut (something Danny’s been meaning to do for a while) and she looks so _grown up_ in her short, dark bob and new outfit that Danny wonders momentarily if Steve is going to recognise her.
“I look pretty, Danno!” she cries, spinning around on the spot so her skirt twirls around her. Danny laughs and agrees then sobers a little, because they still have four days to go – four days during which his heart will give that familiar, painful little leap each time an unrecognised number flashes up on the screen of his phone; four days during which his breath will catch with each time a car he doesn’t know slows down outside the house.
Steve’s coming in on a civilian flight, so they drive out to meet him at the airport. |
e61d082c563a4a088f949ba6e75a3839 | ['a3f1646b3bb34f69b497e81a44740097'] | Swear to God I'd catch hypothermia for you
**Author's Note:**
> I was bound to write Kitaake at some point. Enjoy my lack of knowledge about Mementos.
_This cold was going to kill him._
It was safe to say Yusuke wasn't handling the chill of a late October night very well. The wind was biting at his skin; his Mementos getup wasn't made to defend it's wearer against cold weather.
Yusuke found this most unconventional, because shouldn't clothes keep you warm? Was that not the purpose of them? There was also the fact he would be naked without them, but that wasn't a major concern...
Pushing himself up against the wall of the warehouse they were residing in, he surveyed the rest of his crew. Makoto was curled up with Haru and Ann in the far corner, the three girls pressed together to conserve warmth and comfort each other. He envied their resourcefulness.
Ryuji and the leader Akira were doing something similar along the back wall by the entrance, with the blonde's head resting in his boyfriend's lap, soft hands finding their way into his hair. They were talking quietly and as far as Yusuke could tell, they were comfortable against the cold despite being nearest the open doorway. He envied their relationship.
After a few minutes alone with nothing but his thoughts, footsteps were heard coming up toward the entrance. Goro's silhouette briefly stood in the doorway, before he made his way inside, mask sliding off his face as he dropped one fluffy, blue blanket onto their leader, earning a disturbed huff from Ryuji.
It took Yusuke a minute to realise Goro was headed toward him, and he straightened slightly, nodding politely and gesturing to the space beside him. The detective sat down with a sigh, stretching his legs and rolling his neck around before he settled into a comfortable spot.
He turned to Yusuke.
"Everything fine whilst I was gone? I find it hard to believe Akira didn't somehow burn the place down in my absence."
Yusuke quickly tagged into the unexpected conversation: "as much as I would've enjoyed the heat, he thankfully did not. And neither do I, Ryuji was waving the final candle around a slight too enthusiastically."
"An hour's search and I could only pick up one small blanket.....I guess I must've picked the wrong field when I chose to be a detective" Goro rubbed his eyes and Yusuke had to spend a second refocusing his mind after the brunette smiled his way.
"Ah, I could hardly say that. You are a fantastic detective, Akechi-kun," he tilted his head back slightly and a dastardly smile formed on his face, "I might even say you are as talented at investigation work as I am at creating art."
Goro covered his mouth with his gloved hand, clearly disguising a grin. "Flattery won't get you anywhere, Kitagawa-kun, we both know I could solve a hundred cases in a day, whereas you'd still be entrapped in your first piece of art."
"Ah, but isn't it quality and not quantity that you say we should value? Better to ace a crime scene investigation than to miss out on the murder weapon completely."
Goro laughed, and it was a small, relaxed laugh, not something Yusuke had ever heard before from him. A laugh that made it sound like he wanted to be there.
"If you say so, dear Kitagawa-kun."
Before Yusuke could reply, footsteps garnered their attention. Ryuji was approaching, singular blue blanket in hand. "Yo, 'Kira wants you two to have this, something about looking cold over there on your own, I dunno." And with that he unceremoniously deposited it in Goro's arms.
The boys looked at the fabric for a second, before Goro yawned. "I suppose we should make use of it then, hm?"
Yusuke was unresponsive as the detective draped the blanket over both of their legs and pulled it up over his stomach, then encouraged Yusuke to do the same.
"Come closer," he spoke softly.
And so Yusuke did so, feeling the unwavering proximity of the brunette. Their shoulders were barely an inch apart.
Goro yawned again, letting his head rest against the artist's arm. "Sleep well, Yusuke."
As the weight on his arm grew heavier he saw his leader smirking at him from across the room. _Son of a bitch_ , Yusuke thought, as he was lulled into the not-so-cold night. | 9d2329900c0d4fdfb1c417ecc09ccb04 | ['a3f1646b3bb34f69b497e81a44740097'] | "CAN WE STOP TALKING ABOUT STANDS AND TALK ABOUT THE FUCKING GHOST THAT'S APPARENTLY INSIDE OUR CAR?!" screamed the green stripper. Shrek noted how his hair looked like a fork.
"Fugo, honey, don't worry about it, I'm sure it's just nothing. Maybe Giorno has some secret power that he didn't tell us about." The goth put a hand on the stripper's shoulder and glared daggers at the pink boy, who smiled back at him. "I can assure you, Abbacchio, it's nothing to do with me."
Caroline sighed as the "ghost" yelled again. "AW HELL NO BABY! I TOLD YA'LL IMA GHOST!" To prove his point, the ghost send a trash can down the street flying. "MA NAME JIMMY YA'LL! REMEMBER IT!" Then he disappeared. "Bye Jimmy" said the orange kid, then he went back to stroking Fugo's head like a cat.
"So whadda we do now?" Shrek asked.
"I suppose I should introduce you to my gang. This is Giorno, over there is Abbacchio, Fugo and his boyfriend Narancia"-he lowered his voice-"but if you call them that Fugo will deny it, behind the car is Mista, who we had to lock in the boot because he had some bad pasta and went feral."
"One of my mates went feral" Sally from Sally Face piped up. Everyone looked at him. "What?" he said.
Shrek shook his head. "Well you all know I'm Shrek apparently. Onion boy to some, and Daddy to many." Bucciarati smiled. "You may call me Bruno."
"I'm Sal from Sally Face. Nice to meet ya. My last bunch of friends kinda got fucked up so it's cool that I got you guys now. Anyone have disco fries?"
He was ignored. "I'm Caroline, like I already said, and well, I don't really want to hurt you. So can we be friends too?"
"Sure" said everyone just like Bill Wurtz.
It was at that point they noticed the sun was setting and Fugo yawned. "I'm so tired..." he breathed. The kid called Narancia who was apparently (not) his boyfriend sung out "-OF LOVE SONGS TIRED OF LOVE SONGS TIRED OF LOVE SONGS TIRED OF LOVE!" Giorno joined in with his angelic voice. "Just wanna go home, wanna go home, wanna go home-" he pointed at Mista, still on the floor looking feral. "Woaah" Mista choked out. Sal started clapping.
"That's it you bunch, no more impromptu singing. okay? Not whilst we have guests." Bruno put an arm through the goth's and gestured for them to follow to the nearest hotel, leaving Cardi B's rotting corpse in the street with their now emptied car.
As Bruno went to book the rooms, Narancia (still in Fugo's arms) belted out "Creeper?" followed by an even louder "AW MAN".
Fugo rolled his eyes. "So we back in the mine, got our pickaxe swinging from side to side, side, side to side."
Giorno piped up from his chair: "This task a grueling one, hope to find some diamonds tonight, night night. Diamonds tonight~" His singing prompted Mista to join in, even though he was still on the floor being a feral twat. "Heads up, you hear a sound, turn around and look up, total shock fills your body!"
"OH NO IT'S YOU AGAIN, I CAN NEVER FORGET THOSE-" Narancia yelled, and he was joined by everyone else singing "EYES EYES EYES, EYES, EYES EYES"
"CUS BABY TONIIII-AAUUCCK!!" Narancia's joyous singing was cut off when Abbacchio slapped him on the head. "You little rats, didn't you hear Bruno? No singing!" He turned to Fugo, his obvious favourite. "Please sweetie, don't let them sing again."
Shrek sighed and looked down at Sally from Sally Face who was smoking a joint through a gap in his mask. "Ay little man can I hit" he asked in his strangely Norwegian accent.
"Sure bro" Sal passed him the boof, which the green man ate in one loud chomp sound effect. "Nice."
Bruno walked over with the room keys. "Alright, Giorno, you take Mista, Narancia and his boyfriend Fugo up to room 420."
"I'm not his boyfriend" Fugo said, then went back to resting his chin on Narancia's fluffy head.
Their dad ignored them. "Caroline, you have a room to yourself. Actually no, our last member will be here soon. She'll be sharing with you, she went to get some groceries." Caroline took the key and smiled.
"Leone and I will be in room 69, Shrek, can you and Sally from Sally Face stay in our bathroom? We couldn't afford another room."
"Sure thing" Sal said and started to follow them up the stairs, as Giorno's group had already left and Caroline waited for her roomie to arrive. Shrek stuffed a hand down his pants because he didn't have pockets and followed.
They could hear Narancia singing already as they waited for Bruno to unlock the room. "We the hottest in the world right now, jus touched down in London tooown-" He was cut off as they stepped inside the Abbacchio locked the door.
Meanwhile downstairs, Caroline saw a hot, pink-haired girl walked through the doors of the hotel with multiple shopping bags. "Hey, are you Caroline? Bucciarati texted me about you. Said we were rooming together."
Caroline was taken aback by the sheer attractiveness of this girl. All she could respond with was "when you hold me, in your arms so tight, you let me know, everything's alright. AAAAA-aaaaa-aaah, hooked on a feeling". The guy behind the desk joined in with a "DO DO DO DO DOOOOOO." Trish nodded. "Okay, lets head upstairs."
As they headed upstairs, Caroline whispered to Trish. "Heyumhowoldareyoubtwcutie??"
Trish smiled to her. "Fifteen." Caroline smiled back. "Epic, me too. I just look like I'm 20 lmaooooo."
_TIME SKIP BECAUSE FUCK IM LAZY_
About 2am everyone was in bed, Caroline and Trish having spent at least an hour f-
_Oh you thought I was gonna say fucking?
Lol too bad_ |
5d7e37d193ca4ed4a623d82cdefa51ce | ['a3f7a13917094a509a18b33f62ae143d'] | “And she is!” Balin’s shout cowed everyone into silence “Billa will be just fine, if you’d shut your gobs for ten flaming minutes and let me explain.” The adviser turned to Thorin and Dain each had a female relative; one a sister he had helped raise from infancy, the other a wife of many decades. “Billa is just suffering from her body” he struggled to make it vague enough to understand but delicate enough not to make the younger dwarrow faint, “putting itself back on schedule.”
Thorin and Dain’s eyebrows disappeared into their hairlines, “It’s best to leave it be boys,” Dain reasoned with Durin’s heirs, “this falls firmly under things you most certainly do not want to know.” Thorin shuddered at his side. “Allow me to take those to the wash room for you Balin. There will be less panic that way, I think.” Balin gave his load to Dain gratefully.
“Oh Mahal,” Thorin and Balin shared a groan, the mountain would panic if they thought something was wrong with Billa. She had steadily become more popular than any of the other heroes of Erebor. “Nori, Bifur if you could kindly make sure that no one wanders this corridor, including the guards, we may be able to keep people from thinking someone is dying.”
“Fili and Kili shut up and take Ori to bed. Billa is fine. You will be able to see her in the morning but right now she needs privacy and quiet.” The three young dwarrow proceeded to sulk toward the princes rooms, though they looked distinctly relieved at Thorin’s words.
“Balin, go back to Billa.” The elder looked relieved to go back to his charge. “Everyone else sit down and shut up or leave. I will not have people starting rumors about Billa when she needs quiet and privacy, in this more than anything.” So Thorin settled in with his comrades to wait, calmly explaining to them what was wrong with Billa now that the boys were gone. They were just lucky it wasn’t Dis on a moons cycle or they would have all been shaved for the fuss and stupidity they were causing.
* * *
Once Billa was clean Dwalin drained the bath and left her to sit for a moment so he could retrieve a clean shift and check in with everyone else.
“How is she feeling now Dwalin?” Oin questioned.
“She’s tired and still in pain and absolutely mortified but a bit better. She stopped crying after sitting in the heat for a bit.” Dwalin had never had a female relative outside of his mother and this was uncomfortable new territory for him.
“That’s good, now get her dressed” he shoved a night shirt at him “and bring her back. We’ll dose her and set up the heat packs and she’ll be fine as long as we keep giving her pain killers for the next few days.”
“Silri never had a cycle this.” Gloin was clearly shaken from the pain Billa was in, “not even when she miscarried on the road.”
Bombur grunted in agreement while he tended the teapot of poppies milk, neither his wife nor daughters had ever bled so much.
“Will she always be like this?” Balin asked Oin as they remade the bed.
“No,” the Healer reassured “this will be the worst of them but she will need to keep close track of them. Her future cycles are bound to be irregular and she will still need pain tonics to help her through some parts.” Balin looked relieved to know his sister would not have to suffer like this again.
“And here we are.” Dwalin’s voice was jovial as he stepped into the bedroom with Billa in his arms. “We have pain tonics and hot water skins aplenty my dear. We will have you right as rain and sleeping like an elvish babe!”
Even though her face was drawn tight with pain and she was embarrassed Billa did not hold back her quiet chuckle.
“Thank you all so much. I didn’t mean to cause such a fuss, it’s really nothing.”
“Shut your lying gob Missy,” Oin groused and handed her a tonic, “We all have female relatives here and we know that a recovering cycle is nothing to push through. Now settle down and don’t fret, we’ll see you through this.” Maybe it was the relief of knowing she was taken care of or the tonic worked that fast, but Billa was asleep quickly with Balin stroking her hair and Dwalin sitting at her bedside while the rest crept from the bedroom.
“Will she be ok Oin?” Dori asked where he sat with Nori and Bofur.
“Aye, she’ll be fine. It’s just the last stage of her recovery. We are dwarrow males; we couldn’t have guessed the repercussions such a journey would have on her.”
“Thank you for taking care of her, all of you.” The relief on Thorin’s face was palpable and the company’s surprise clear when he went and knocked foreheads with Oin, Gloin and Bombur, who barely hid their surprise at such a show of affection from their King. | 973c6da0328240d1b8ec6a412f556e41 | ['a3f7a13917094a509a18b33f62ae143d'] | The trio had passed many workers on this trail and never slowed down even though most of them stopped and outright stared at the spectacle, but when they finally reached the floor with the Library Thorin slowed down just a little.
“What have you done?” She shouted when he rounded the corner.
“Can’t talk now” the King was breathing heavily but was also smiling like a fool “If they catch me, Fili will be King and that would be a travesty.” Instead of continuing past her and Ori he slowed down even as Fili and Kili gained on him, and when he reached Billa he grabbed her waist in his hands hoisted her over his shoulder and started sprinting as fast as he could.
“I’ve got a hostage, boys!” He shouted behind him, ignoring Billa’s protests and slaps to his back.
“I swear to Mahal Uncle, I will shave you bare.” Fili screamed “EVERY LAST INCH OF YOU!”
Kili’s shout was lost as he put on one great burst of speed and turned a corner, only to duck into an alcove hidden by a statue. He put Billa on the floor and covered her mouth with his hand, pressing her against the far wall until the Prince’s footsteps had faded into silence.
“What is this all about?” she hissed when he drew his hand away, “What did you do?”
“What did I do?” he whispered “Why do you assume it’s my fault?”
Billa just glared at him. And glared. **And glared.**
“All right!” he relented, she looked a lot like his _Amad_ had while interrogating him and Frerin “They’ve been moving things in my room, my sofa or chairs, in the middle of the night. By the time I wake up everything is different.”
Billa continued to look wholly unimpressed.
“They took my clothes!” he practically screeched, but not actually because he is a King, “these are Dwalin’s!”
Indeed she recognized the clothes as belonging to the taller and broader dwarf, “That explains what they did, but what did you do? Fili threatened to usurp you!”
He leered at her “Now that my Burglar, is something I think you will be very proud of.”
Apparently Thorin had chosen his retribution to be in public and had subsequently sabotaged not only the entire armory but all of the boys’ weapons; gluing Fili’s swords into their scabbards so he could not draw them, whittling down Kili’s arrows so they all snapped in half when the bow was fully drawn and finally he had switched all their daggers out for similarly sized vegetables. He then proceeded to start their morning weapons practice with a live drilling and sparring, which resulted in the two princes being completely humiliated in front of the Iron Hills soldiers and Dwalin. Billa suspected they were mostly upset about Dwalin being a witness.
Billa was actually rather proud and when she told him so his reply was smug, “You didn’t think they got all their mischief from Dis, did you?”
“You do know their retribution will be swift and brutal.” Billa was rather curious about his plans for avoiding the boys.
“And that dear Billa,” he crowded her back against the wall “is why I have recruited you.”
Their banter and his giddiness made Billa feel light headed, her heart pumped faster when his chest brushed against hers. “I think milord,” Thorin actually growled as he tilted his head down towards hers, “that recruitment requires persuasion to join, last time you offered me a 14th of the greatest treasure in the world. Why do you offer me now?” he stopped his lips inches from hers and seemed to contemplate her words.
“How about another lesson in Khuzdul,” his lips ghosted over hers “right now?”
She hummed, looking up into his eyes and even in the dark of their hidden corner she could see their deep blue fixed on her.
**_“Namim.”_** He brought his lips to hers in a chaste press and drew back before Billa could gather her wits and deepen it, **_“Numum.”_** He said and this time when his lips met hers they did not stop, they parted and his tongue gently swiped her lips. She sighed, knowing what he was asking for and so grateful that he would help her fulfill this new desire, and his mouth kept meeting hers and lingering for longer and longer until she opened for him and tentatively traced his lips. He put an arm behind her and cupped her cheek with the other as she scrabbled at his shoulders for something to hold on to as he kissed her deeper and her head got lighter and the small twinge of desire she felt flamed higher. And when Billa wasn’t certain if she needed air or for Thorin to press his body into hers harder, he pulled back.
“I’m in.” she said their foreheads resting together, Thorin’s Khuzdul lessons were worth any trouble she might find.
* * *
This latest note was just another in a string of progressively more unsettling ones. Each slip of parchment was dreaded now and whenever she found them, and she still found them often, her heart would seize up and a cold sweat would break out. It was possessive and rude and, well, scary. The writer seemed to know an awful lot about private things, they knew when she had spent an evening in Thorin’s chambers or when they stole kisses in the halls. This was going too far, Balin and Dwalin had said that withholding interest in a dalliance wasn’t an insult that dwarrows were taught better. But this one didn’t seem to be getting the message at all. If they knew she was being courted by Thorin why did they still write her? Why did they keep trying to win her/scare her out of her wits? This was too much. |
e8ea10405be94f35bd46a4f34f207af3 | ['a40337d00a024f7faec04c3fe0b7ac61'] | For the next few days, things settled down in both colonies, that was until just after midnight on Mid-winter Day. The day was heralded in by the rise of a rare blue moon, the first blue moon on Mid-Winter Day in over 60 years. Queen Cherry let out a shriek of pain as she woke up all of a sudden, not expecting to wake up in that level of pain. Her pod technically wasn't due for another few days, but she was fairly certain this pod was ready to emerge now. Making her way to the medical pod, she was helped along by Aspen and several of the medical trolls and guards. They get her inside the medical pod as quickly as they could, seeing she was already getting close to delivering. "I guess this baby wanted to be born on mid winter.. go figure." She pants a bit as she lays down on the bed. Within a short 20 minutes, her pod was free of her body and being dried off by the medic. They pass the gorgeous 3 toned blue pod over to the queen and watch as the birthing slit seals over.
The pod twists a bit before slowly opening, revealing a small male troll in the colors of teal blue with royal blue hair. As he opens his eyes, it reveals gorgeous cerulean blue irises to anyone looking. His royal blue hair seemed to be extended backwards, filling up the inside of the pod. Aspen looks over and smiles gently at his son. "Theres my Branch, my firstborn son." He raises an eye slightly when Branch shifts a bit and retracts his hair, showing an identical twin sibling behind him, safely curled up in his brothers hair and clinging to him lightly. "Twins? Well, we were not expecting that."
Queen Cherry glances between the two and shakes her head. "No, we definitely were not expecting twins. I think the twin looks like a summer sky. Sky seems like a good name to me." Aspen nods in agreement. "My boys, Prince Branch and Prince Sky, welcome to the world." The twins look over at him and Cherry with matching expressions of confusion and curiosity about who they were. Sky was the first to giggle at the pair while Branch seemed quieter, more skeptical of the two holding them so closely. His skeptical attitude and protective streak would prove to be most useful when he gets older.
...
Boop... Branch and Sky have made the scene!!! YAYYYYYY :D
3. chapter 2
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> King Peppy's colony welcomes its newest additions. Trouble approaches the Aspen colony.
Within hours of the birth of Branch and Sky, King Aspen was sending another message to King Peppy, informing him of their births. He didn't want to leave anything to chance when it came to keeping in constant communication. At least with King Peppy aware of everything going on over here, if anything bad should happen to them, King Peppy would know who was there, how many was there, if there was an heir, their gender and age, and so on. This would safely ensure that should the colony meet up with King Peppy and his colony later, even if he wasn't with them, the colony would still be taken in and protected.
Within a few days of King Aspen sending the message, he received his own message. He retrieves it from the dragonfly and opens it up. "King Aspen, we wanted to formally congratulate you on the birth of not one, but 2 heirs to your family line. We in turn would like to announce the arrival of our own heir, born just this morning shortly after dawn. We were blessed with a beautiful daughter that we have named Poppy. Several others in our colony also had their babies and as such, our numbers of 400 has increased by 20 since the last count was made. We wish we could be there to celebrate with you on the birth of Branch and Sky, but unfortunately we are unable to make the trip because of our own children being born at this time. Hopefully one day they can all meet. We also were graced with a couple new members who claim they came from your colony. They go by the names Midgie and Coral. I am pleased to inform you that Midgie, shortly after her arrival here, gave birth to a healthy dwarf baby boy who she has named Jadice. Coincidentally, Jadice is the same physical size as a member of my own colony named Smidge. Her parents were lost to the Bergen's shortly after her birth and before our arrival to this area. We were luckily able to save her, but her parents were lost to us. We will take good care of your colony members until we manage to meet you, if ever that happens. With winter time upon us now, travel would be extremely risky, so please do not put yourselves in danger by attempting to travel at this time. We will find a safe time to meet if possible. Until then, stay safe my friend." | 7d5bbece416e4f118a9f30df93ca992f | ['a40337d00a024f7faec04c3fe0b7ac61'] | Branch flushes a bit, making his gray skin seem almost black around his cheek's. "I prefer guy's actually. I usually don't tell people about that. As for anyone I might be interested in, well... there is one.. but I can't tell him because I don't know if he feels the same way and I don't think I could handle rejection at this point. I've lost everything in my life, you of all trolls know that. You knew my grandmother was taken and that was the reason for this.." he ushers towards his gray skin " but... I don't know if I can approach him. He and I are so different, almost like polar opposites. That plus I have no clue as to what he likes or anything." He blushes a bit again thinking about the one who had captured his heart so many years ago.
Peppy nods a moment to all of this and smirks. "Well, if you mean Creek, he prefers guys..." He snickers at the slight startled expression on Branch's face "but as for anything else, not sure I can help ya there. He's a hard one to understand at times, even harder to figure out his likes and dislikes. I think your best bet there is to ask Poppy. She knows Creek better than most trolls in the village. She's likely to know what he likes and all that. Anyways, I will leave you now to think things over, but keep in mind, I am not letting you completely out of my sight, Branch. I will ensure you have a mate by the end of Valentine's Day... even if I have to hogtie you and leave you tied up in ribbon's outside Creek's pod door as a present to him." Peppy smirks all naughty like at the implications of his words and laughs as he walks back to the village, leaving a very red faced and speechless Branch behind him.
...
TADA... chapter 1 of a very naughty Valentine's story. Enjoy :)
2. Early planning
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Creek decides that an early Valentine is in order to set things in motion.
It was an hour after the announcement and Creek was hiding in his flower pod. He was overly paranoid about this whole thing, knowing full well others were in the same position as he was. It was almost ironic, him being paranoid. "Oh heaven help me, I am getting just as paranoid as Branch. I really hope this doesn't blow up in my face." He knew the king wouldn't back down with his plans. Peppy might be old, but he was stubborn. When he wanted something a certain way, 99% of the time, thats usually the way it ended up. Fighting against the inevitable was just plain idiocy. "You better not break my heart, Branch."
The lavender toned guru settles down at his desk to write a card out in the shape of a heart. It had a minimal amount of glitter on it, knowing that Branch wasn't a huge fan of glitter. Inside the card, he wrote something simple and to the point. "I have longed for you for years, hated the distance between us, but prayed that one day we would find our way to each other. I know you're in pain from losing those close to you, but I would hope that you can trust me enough to be there with you, to be the one to comfort you when you need it. I am not asking for a miracle and I don't expect this to happen overnight, but please my love.. be my Valentine?"
Reading it over again to make sure it sounded okay, Creek gently slips the card into a shiny red envelope that had little pink and white hearts in random spots across it. He writes Branch's name in the middle of the card and sets it aside. He gets up and walks over to his huge display of flowers that he grew indoors. He selects a few different types of irises and Lilly's along with some baby's breath and puts them into a silver toned vase with a lavender ribbon around the top of it. He makes sure the flowers were positioned well before setting the vase near the card and heading into his kitchen. He gathers some cocoa powder, confectioners sugar, peanut butter, milk, butter, and a few other things and settles into a steady rhythm of making some homemade chocolates. Since he wasn't sure which kind Branch liked, he made some filled with peanut butter, some with caramel, some with strawberry and raspberry creams. Some of them were milk chocolate covered and some had dark chocolate. Each one, once set, was drizzled with caramel or chocolate syrup and allowed to set again.
Getting the chocolates done and put into a star shaped silver and gold box, Creek attaches a ribbon to it in the shade of teal and royal blue, colors that he felt meant something but he couldn't understand why at that time. He wanted to at least show Branch that he cared for him, even if the feelings weren't returned. The talk he had earlier with King Peppy hadn't been anything to ease his paranoia. Everyone in the village knew how stubborn Branch was and already many were calling him crazy for wanting to be with the hostile survivalist. |
1eac910f784f49329c42dbddce0c6bf2 | ['a462d3f421ee4e919effcbbae3cad629'] | Sans shook Shep’s body for a few seconds, Shep’s respond also instantly with grumbles and groans. Charley swept down hugging him fiercely, even more grunts and moans could be heard. She tightly held onto him embracing him firmly. He smiled realised she was clinging onto him, waking up slightly with arms around him. She pulled her off him slowly, seeing Sans sat behind, a frown mixed with relief crept upon him.
“Good to see ya, thought we’d be reduced to bones back there.” Shep looked to Sans apologetically.
“heh, don’t worry man, if you didn’t wonder off, we wouldn’t be here right now.” San replied, placing a hand on Shep’s shoulder as Charley continued to hug him.
“I guess, the battle only just begun then?” Shep looked anxious, after what they’d been through, seeing anymore would be torture.
“Shep.” Charley started. “We can do this.” She looked towards the sounds of crashing and fighting, then to Sans. “We’ll fight together,” She took a deep breath “When you’re ready.”
Shep clambered to the floor, pushing himself to a stance position, seeing above the crumbling building they’d been hiding behind. His heart was heavy, he felt doubt.
“This is it, isn’t it?” He looked to Charley whose eyes were hopefully but full or fear, then to the Sans, a mixed or emotions presents in this hard to read facial expressions.
He was met with silence as all three stood, looking at the battle between aura, Papyrus and Chara.
The wind blew fiercely as the grew the courage, the air becoming stale, full of dust and rubble.
A flame become slowly emitting from Charley and Sans, blue in the left, green on the right.
Shep readied his sword, pulling out the gigantic mental, holding it frontal, attack prepared.
They stood, breathing. Taking in the atmosphere. The air only filled with distant sounds of battle. They concentrated. Consuming what last chance of calm they had together.
Charley looked to Shep, Shep to Charley. They both looked down for a moment, holding their hands out to each other. They took each other’s comfort with pleasure. Their hands touched, holding in their hope, looking into each other’s eyes. The battle was about to begin. Their thoughts rushing, would they see each other again, would they hold each other again.
“I love you.” Her heart ached. Her head hurting. Shep smiled lightly, dread hidden behind it.
“I love you too…” A moment of silence, Sans stood watching, taking their words in carefully. “We’ll go for Chinese later yeah?” Shep looked back towards the fight. Looking above the rubble wall they were visible. The battle was about to begin; they couldn’t wait forever.
“Yeah.” her voice high, throat shaken as she lost herself. She chuckled as she sobbed for air, her fear now realising.
“Ok ready?” Sans interrupted her thought.
Her face dropped to panic. Her thought to Shep who had already began concentrating on the battle about to commence.
She looked away.
This isn’t the time. We have to do this. We’ll do it together.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Sorry I haven't posted for awhile so here take two chapters XD
38. No hope
Chara stood still, vines pushing and crashing out from the ground, dodged and moved forcefully from Laura. Vines would we shifted into dark blue colours as the gravity increased for them, slamming them into the ground. Papyrus no longer had his gentle face on show, now he was battle aggressive showing dark blue colours spreading blue across the vines as they split the concrete on the weight.
Laura stood moving slowly, jumping over swinging vines, in clumsy patterns keeping up with their speed.
A unison yell could be heard as Sans, Charley and Shep struck upon Chara’s vines.
“NOW” Sans yelled, pushing and slamming vines to the floor, Shep spreading them as he made his way towards Chara. More vines launched out of the concrete, pointed and Shape.
Charley jumped and leaped from vines to vines, scrapping thorns across her clothes, ripped sleeves off and the bottom of her trousers as the liquid burned away at her, her legs already red with irritation.
Sans and Shep screamed, yelling swear words and profanity. Each word they cut through with anger and vengeance bubbling up with such hated. Laura and Papyrus continued pushing and slammed vine together. The black mist became infused with Sans blue flames as they fought violently against the never-ending abyss of plants and acid.
Wound appeared on Laura but as soon as they appeared they were gone. Her wounds would be covered in darkness before revealing nothing. Papyrus would become infused with black mist also with welcome arms as they mended bones and scolds.
Charley leaped into the air above Chara, arms held out wide, green flares blooming at incredible heat, such anger and hated secreting from them. Her right eye blared with frustration and pain. Not only flames but green glowing tears flowed from his eye, in fury.
Shep rage flowed within him growing as the vines sliced, he looked back to Charley to see her leaping for her strike. As he looked he pushed himself to look away, he had to concentrate on himself for now. This was it, if he was injured he’d be trouble for everyone else. He had to help but only when the time was appropriate, this fight was a delicate operation.
Charley flew through the air, blasting vines out the way with fire and gravity, the vines moved in her path before being crumbled into smithereens. She struck with bright wrath flowing through her blood. The magic tensed up, accessible and easy to use. It dispensed with seemingly endless amount as she grew nearer to Chara vines infected body. | 6106248c41df41159a0bf0507a7684b8 | ['a462d3f421ee4e919effcbbae3cad629'] | “heheh! kid!” He yelled, as his hoodies hood fell off his head, back behind him. He stumbled forward, losing a pink slipper, making his wobbly way over.
Charley stood watching, as her old friend made drunken steps, almost tripping over his own feet, before falling onto her in a messy hug. He leaned most of his weight onto her as she hugged back pleased to see her friend again but confused as to the conditions.
“long time, no see!” Sans shouted as he pointed to his eye socket.
“You’ve been partying or something?” She chuckled to him as he pulled himself back up onto his feet, holding a hand on her shoulder, using Charley to balance.
He stretched his smile a little further than normal.
“kid, i party all the time!” Sans pulled a bottle of ketchup out of the hoodie pocket, offering it to Charley. She happily accepted, looking at the bottle curiously, till Sans began climbing to the stations roof. Charley smiled toothily as she watched him plant himself on the roof, looking to the sky, bringing out another bottle from a hidden inner pocket. Charley looked at her opened bottle of glass ketchup, then to Sans. She grinned in awe and began climbing the station as well. It was a lot harder than it looked, she slipped a few times on the icy wood, luckily the roof wasn’t too tall, and so she could reach it with her hands, pulling herself up whilst holding the bottle.
Some snow fell onto her face as she fell off, falling into the snow.
Sans roared with laughter, holding his stomach as he tried to reframe himself. Charley sat in the snow pouting at her humiliation, the ketchup still in her hand.
“here” Sans lowed a hand to her, which she accepted with relief. He pulled her up as she pressed her feet against the station, lifting her up onto the roof. They both sat, pushing off nearby snow. Sans took regular swigs of ketchup as Charley watched. She looked to her bottle.
“you goin’ have some?” He questioned looked straight into her eyes. Charley quickly took a mouthful, the sweet and sharp taste hitting her tongue, a mixture of tomatoes, vinegar and whiskey. She gulped it down sending a shiver down her spine.
“Is there whiskey in this?” She looked surprised. Sans winked taking another drink.
“tis good stuff” He claimed leaning his back onto the roof, his feet, perched on the ledge at the end. They both sat in silence as they both drunk a bit.
“ya know, you’re lucky” Sans said throwing out his arms in explanation.
“Why’s that?” She asked
“well you’ve been up there, living your life, while we’re trapped in this caged. thought you would have forgotten about us by now?” He said slurring words and mumbled as he pressed the ketchup bottle to his teeth.
“I could never forget you guys.” Charley said sat up looking down on him kindly as he looked up to her frowning.
“heh, suppose you’re right kid.” He said nudging her slightly. “ya know i realised something when we arrived back here,” He looked to the sky “i miss having the freedom like then. it was so long ago, i don’t…i don’t really remember it all that well.” He admitted.
“Come on! A year’s not that long? I’m sure you’ll see it soon anyway.” Charley comforted.
“a year? don’t you mean twenty?” He corrected.
“No…I mean a year.” Charley chuckled sarcastically to correction. Sans frowned, propping himself up with his elbow as he looked at her more intensely.
“kid it’s been twenty years since we’ve all seen you humans.” He explained, looking her up and down. “now i come to think of it, you look no different.”
“We’ll neither do you, just more, drunk than I remember. Why didn’t Toriel tell me that though?” She pondered, taking another sickly sip, gulping it down without chance of taste. She could feel the alcohol, flowing through her blood stream, warming her stomach, throughout her body.
“hmm…a lots happened since we’re seen you all. i think i saw laura too, but it’s been so long i hardly recognised her, hey, took me a second to recognise you!” He exclaimed lobbing the glass bottle into the trees, and slumping back onto roof.
“Sans?” Charley thought for a moment. “Why are you all here? I thought you had broken the barrier, surely you should be up above with the other humans now?” She wanted to ask a hundred questions but thought it was best to stick to most simple for now.
Sans didn’t seem phased at the questions, if anything he looked like he was expecting as much from her, but she continued to look at him, watching his difficult to read expressions.
Sans felt her eyes upon him, waiting for his answer.
“when we got here we were all so excited. everyone was upset about leaving but excited to finally explore the human’s world.” He took a deep breathe, “we were all concentrating on getting ready; preparing ourselves for everything we would have to face, and with frisk…” Sans smile faltered, but returned quickly as he realised. “ya see kid; frisk is actually their own person.” He made eye contact, “although the player, you, controls them, it’s more like a conscious thing for th-”
“Wait frisk is here? I always thought they were … why didn’t they show up when you guys came to my world?” Charley interrupted shocked. Sans wiggled into the roof a little more, pushing more powdered snow off onto the ground.
Sans raised both eyebrows, “they were with us. in fact, you fought them.”
“Chara?!” Charley put a hand to her chest in guilt and confusion. |
d76b540453654373813837e49b4e33b1 | ['a4671ae51aa64abc833d57b45ac2679f'] | Marcaroni and Cheese
Disclaimer: I can only wish. Vampire Knight is not mine.
Summary: A dinner at Chairman Cross'. What does Zero get up to? One-shot. Please read and review!
Warnings: None.
* * *
"Why the heck are you late again?" Yuki smacked his arm, then placing her hands on her hips. She looked up at him, wide eyes irritated.
"The Chairman's gonna be really mad if we don't hurry up! He wants us to try his new culinary dish. " she shouted back, striding away.
* * *
"Yuuuukiiii! Zerooo! Presenting….Kaien Cross's Ultimate Macaroni and Cheese Baked with Lovee!" The oven mitt-and-apron-clad Chairman, holding the plate, still managed to twirl around, eyes sparkling madly.
Zero sighed, and resigned himself to taking a seat at the dinner table, across from Yuki. He tuned out the conversation, and started in on his dinner, acting out the mechanical motions of spooning, chewing and swallowing.
"Zero? Hello? Zeroo? Spacing out again?"
* * *
She was waving her spoon at me, and I saw again the little things that I had noticed about her ever since I came here. Her large brown eyes; kind and naïve. Her twinkling eyes; full of compassion. Her bright and sunny smile, lighting up my day.
"Are you alright?" she asked, her head cocked to one side.
"I'm alright." I replied, cutting off conversation. It was much better to just stay quiet than to listen to the Chairman's rambling.
Going back to the mundane actions of putting food in my mouth, I was again drawn to her delicate features. The way she moved, talked, ate. Her actions always amaze me; strike me anew. I could never get tired of looking at her, discovering new quirks. Wait. Before you start pitying me, I'm DEFINITELY NOT besotted. It's just that she's a danger to herself, that girl. She was always getting into scrapes, and _I_ have to always be the one to bail her out of them. I am _definitely_ not attracted to that tomboy.
_She is so beautiful…_
* * *
A/N: This just came to me in a spur of the moment. It's my first time trying to write from Zero's POV, I hope it fits with what you guys had in your minds about Zero. Hope you guys enjoyed reading it, and please do tell me what you thought of it! (: | 24c284b1dd504dab8b383e730765f327 | ['a4671ae51aa64abc833d57b45ac2679f'] | Mixing Business With Pleasure
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, but to J.K. Rowling.
Summary: Draco Malfoy comes home after clinching a successful business deal with Nott Holdings. How will he and his wife celebrate it?
Warning: Post-Hogwarts, EWE?, sexual references.
* * *
"We are proud to announce, that Malfoy International has won the bid." The announcer spoke to the large group of men assembled before him. Mixed reactions greeted the news, but a lone man in particular, seemed oblivious to the others' expressions as he ran a hand through his white-blond hair, exhaling a relieved sigh.
One Draco Malfoy was feeling pleased. He had worked hard on the bid, only leaving the office in the wee hours of the morning. Having recently married, he had left his new wife many cold nights while he was working to repair the mess of Malfoy International Lucius left him to serve his sentence in Azkaban. Pulling out his phone, he made a call to his pilot to prepare the jet for a flight to Paris.
_At least it paid off_ , he thought, rolling his shoulders to remove the knots; his mind lingering to his wife's elegant hands and her _superb_ talent for removing said knots in his shoulders, and in other places as well. He suddenly grinned, at the thought of his wife, the famed City of Love, and his newly-acquired free time.
* * *
_Malfoy Manor_
He walked into the bedroom, only to see his wife pacing about the book-strewn room, muttering about counter-curses and counter-jinxes. She was Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and a damn good one at that, if he did say so himself. He started forward, wanting to share with her the good news.
"Granger."
"Darling, you're home," she spared him a hurried smile before turning back to the book in her hand, one finger running down the black lines on the parchment. She continued speaking to herself, putting down the book and picking up another.
"It was absolutely brilliant today, we—" He started to speak, only to be interrupted by his wife.
"Hold on, Draco, let me finish this first. Ernie has been on my case for weeks, and I have to get this in to the superiors today."
_She must be getting revenge for leaving her alone for so long._
He tried again, "Sweetheart, Malfoy International won the bid. You know, the business from Nott Holdings."
She made a sound of assent, still leafing through the book she had in hand.
"That's great, Draco. I'm proud of you," she murmured absently, still leafing through the book she had in hand. He was starting to get irritated. Yes, he was busy the past few weeks, but when he could finally spend some quality time with her, she was busy!
He growled. He tried once more.
"You know, we can set off now for our delayed honeymoon. The jet's waiting. We're going to _la Ville de l'Amour*._ "
"Draco, didn't I say I was bu—OH MY GOSH, YOU WON THE BID!" She screamed, book falling from her hands, pleasure suffusing her face. Hermione ran towards him, jumping into his arms, causing him to stumble backwards, his back hitting the wall of their bedroom.
He smiled, and put her down, his hands running down the sides of her body.
"I thought you were getting revenge for leaving you alone for so many nights since our wedding." He drawled, a smirk on his face.
Hermione had been indeed been lonely for that period of time, but it was all in the past, since she had her husband in her arms now. She paused, then chuckled darkly.
"Speaking of that, I most probably should, don't you think? A couple days of abstinence should do it, yes?"
Draco blanched, but recovered quickly. He pulled her in, and whispered in her ear seductively.
"Are you sure? Mother's been nagging at us to give her a grandchild to spoil. And I think we should start on it soon, no?" He ran his hands down her body, caressing. Seeing her flushed face and tense body, he was delighted to be able to arouse such reactions just like when they just started dating; even after 7 years of talking, laughing and loving.
The tables were turned! She was the one supposed to be angry, he penitent. However, not all was lost. She ran the tips of her nails down his chest, grazing his nipples, grinning inwardly when she heard a sharp inhale.
"A few days should still do you good." she murmured, the sound shooting straight to his sex, stiffening in anticipation.
Molten chocolate clashed with fiery gunmetal, sparks sizzling in the sexual tension between them.
"Since we still have a little time before the flight is scheduled to leave..."
* * *
*The City of Love
A/N: Any capitalization problems are my fault alone for the French translation. Do tell me if it's wrong, I'll correct it immediately. Reviews mean the world to me, and constructive criticisms are hugely appreciated. (: |
34e8f2934f594707a6c5b827bbdf0990 | ['a46d937ac6784cd99f6de5753a44f5ec'] | They were only alone for a few minutes, however, before a dark blue dragon appeared to join them. _Why him?_ F’nor thought, the words only for his dragon. M’lin was a Blue rider a few turns older than F’nor, and he was regarded as one of the leaders of the blue and green riders, always stirring them up to trouble. The man also had an affinity for fashion that puzzled F’nor. Tonight, for something as simple as watch duty, he was dressed in an embroidered flight jacket, with a blue ribbon that matched his dragon’s hide holding his dark hair back.
“Evening.” F’nor greeted M’lin curtly before taking a seat beside his dragon and opening the journal he’d brought with him, intending to draw out more of his Wing formation ideas.
M’lin made a noise of distaste. “Oh, turn your back then. I’m not excited to be watch partners with you, either.” The tall man slid down from his dragon’s back.
“Excuse me?” Despite being rude himself, F’nor was taken aback by the blue rider’s blunt manner. He felt the irritation he’d been nursing all night growing. People didn’t speak to him like that. He was the Weyrleader’s son, even if he was a green rider.
“No one likes to be on watch duty with a proddy green rider,” M’lin said simply, leaning against his dragon and smirking at F’nor.
“We’re not proddy!” F’nor answered forcefully. “I’m just having a bad day.”
“Hmm. Look, F’nor, I’m not a bronze rider, saying that green riders are proddy every time they get a little grumpy. I know what I’m talking about. Banoth and I have chased enough greens in the past few turns.” A sultry turn to that smile, now, and F’nor huffed and moved to Canth’s other side so he wouldn’t have to talk to the blue rider any longer.
“You’re sulking,” M’lin called over to him, but F’nor continued to ignore him, opening his journal again.
He stared at the pages, but he didn’t see them. In truth, M’lin’s words had caused a knot of anxiety to form in his gut. Canth was a late bloomer. Most of the greens in their class had already risen for their first mating Flights. It wasn’t something F’nor was looking forward to, and he’d put it out of his mind. But she had to rise sometime. It was a normal part of being a healthy green dragon, and the last thing he wanted was to find that something was wrong with his Canth.
At least Canth seemed to have calmed down now. Sitting in the crook between her arms, he could feel her tense posture relax, her eyes whirling into a slow, pleasant blue-green.
Except that she wasn’t watching the Weyrbowl, like she was supposed to. Her head was turned towards Banoth, watching intently as M’lin oiled itchy spots on the blue’s hide. F’nor followed her gaze, seeing the way the cloth in M’lin’s hands moved over Banoth’s muscular form.
F’nor shook his head, dispelling the thoughts, unsure of whose they even were.
It was going to be a long night.
* * *
Early the next morning, F’nor found himself at the feeding grounds, yawning as he watched Canth hunt. Despite the late night of watch duty, he hadn’t slept well once he got back to his weyr, and then Canth woke him shortly after sunrise with her restless hunger.
_You’re a grown up. You don’t need me around when you feed anymore,_ he thought, but he was awake anyway, so he threw on some clothes and went down to the corral.
Canth tore into her beast with unusual vigor. The sight might have turned another man’s stomach, but F’nor had been watching dragons feed his whole life.
He glanced up as a shadow fell over the corral. Nemorth was making her ungraceful way towards the feeding area. Her hide was more yellow than gold, and F’nor could swear she had gotten even fatter since the last time he had a close look at her. She landed heavily on the ledge above the corral.
The Queen made a pitiful sound at Canth, who paused in her feasting to snarl. _It’s mine!_
_Canth,_ F’nor shot his dragon a word of warning, shaking his head. Canth was normally strong willed, but she shouldn’t have been so comfortable defying a Queen.
"Issalth will do it.” A voice sounded behind him and F’nor glanced over his shoulder to see T’ryl, a softspoken green rider from his Wing. A moment later, the man’s petite green dragon swept into the feeding grounds, killing a beast with a single clean blow and carrying into up to Nemorth’s ledge. The green dropped the offering on the ledge before going to hunt for herself, and Nemorth happily began to gorge herself.
“I feel bad for her,” T’ryl remarked, looking up at their Queen as he came to stand beside F’nor.
“Why? It’s not our fault Jora is too slow and stupid to raise a decent Gold.” F’nor was still feeling prickly.
“Yes, that’s what we’ve been told.” T’ryl’s expression was unreadable, his eyes on the dragons going about their hunt in the pen. “Canth looks remarkably bright. Is this her first rising?”
“As everyone seems keen on discussing,” F’nor replied, crossing his arms. Canth had finished her beast and sat back, licking her muzzle free of blood.
T’ryl shrugged. “Green riders talk about their dragons rising. You should get used to it. I’m surprised you haven’t been gossiping about it for weeks…but then I don’t see you at the green riders’ table very often, do I?”
F’nor shook his head. “I prefer to join my brother.”
“You’re not like the rest of us,” T’ryl’s teased, his cheeks dimpling as he laughed. “Still, that means you’ve missed out on all the tips about mating flights.”
“I don’t need you to tell me about the birds and the bees, if that’s what you mean.” | 2a6f26bdbfc840c3abcf20e1e67db668 | ['a46d937ac6784cd99f6de5753a44f5ec'] | Nick readily allowed himself to be whisked away. They ducked down the alleyway behind the pub. The place didn’t look special to Nick; just another street, with dinghy cobblestones and surrounded on either side by rows of brick flats.
It was true, Nick hadn’t listened to Eliza. But he had resolved himself to at least ask Clemence what they were doing here; what this relationship was supposed to be, exactly. Then he would know what to do. “Clemence, there’s something I…”
His words were abruptly cut off as Clemence kissed him roughly, pushing him against the wall.
If it wasn’t for his training with Jaxon and Eliza, Nick wouldn’t have seen the flash of silver headed straight for his neck. He reached up, catching Clemence’s wrist hard, making him drop the…it wasn’t a knife, it was a needle. Nick shoved Clemence back and picked it up.
“Flux?” Nick’s stomach twisted. The drug likely came right from their lab.
Clemence’s face had transformed, twisting from beautiful to sinister. “We knew you wouldn’t come easy. The plan was to get you into Hector’s territory and…convince you to join us. Of course, we can do it the hard way instead.” He clenched his fists and lunged.
Jaxon had only taught him one defense so far, but it was a good one. Nick pictured a blinding light and threw it at Clemence. He cried out and covered his eyes, and Nick ran.
“Bastard oracle! Get back here!” Clemence howled in pain, but Nick wasn’t sure how long it would be before the image faded. Then, he heard more footsteps behind him. Clemence wasn’t alone, and his friends must have heard his cries. “Catch him!”
Nick wasn’t familiar with these streets. Hector’s boys were. It was a lost cause. He glanced back and saw a large man, dressed all in black, just a few feet away. Clemence was half-running, half-stumbling along a bit behind him.
Then, both men were screaming as a huge spool of spirits poured into the alleyway, smashing them against the wall. The spirits rose and hovered, then dove again. The stranger was slumped on the ground, his head cracked open, unmoving. Clemence was already trying to get back on his feet.
“Don’t move.” Jaxon Hall appeared at the other end of the street. With a slight motion of his hand, one of the spirits separated from the group, its ghostly form wrapping around Clemence and pinning his limbs down.
Jaxon strode calmly down the alleyway, twirling his cane. Clemence was almost sobbing with fear, twisting to and fro as he tried to escape the spirit’s grasp. “Please—I was just doing what Hector told me! I didn’t mean any harm!”
“What, did my Vision fight back? That’s why you did more harm than good?” Jaxon stopped inches away from Clemence, smiling down at him. He glanced at Nick, who remained motionless, and then he crouched down in front of Clemence, his smile dangerously sweet. “Now you see he’s already taken. And he’s got the one up on you, because he told us where you would be tonight.”
He jumped up again, and for a moment, Nick thought that was the only warning Clemence would receive. Then, Jaxon drew his cane back and brought it down hard on Clemence’s shoulder. The blow was followed by several kicks as Clemence’s pleas went from begging to incoherent groaning.
Nick looked away until the beating finally stopped. Jaxon crouched down once more, drawing a knife out of his pocket. Grabbing Clemence’s chin, he forced the boy to look at him. Jaxon laid the shining blade against Clemence’s cheek. “This is what Hector gets for employing useless soothsayers. You’re worth less than the dust beneath my Vision’s feet. And if you so much as look at him again, I’ll kill you.” He drew the blade down, one clean cut across the face, drawing blood. “Take that back to your mime-lord as a reminder. Now get out of my sight.” He stepped back, and the spirit did so as well, releasing Clemence. Without a second glance, Clemence leaped up and ran away.
Nick took a deep breath, fighting the urge to throw up. “Thank you.”
Jaxon sneered, wiping the blade off with a handkerchief. “I didn’t do that for you, you sentimental fool. I did it for the Seven Seals. Red Vision, more like the Ginger Idiot. No commitment, Nick. You. belong. to. me. Do you understand?” He slid the knife back into his pocket and met Nick’s eyes.
“Yes,” Nick said. “I understand that more clearly than ever.”
One of the spirits alighted beside him, patting his shoulder reassuringly. Jaxon chuckled, some of the anger draining from his expression. Clasping Nick’s other shoulder, he pulled him back down the street. “Good. Because if you’re ready, I have a job for you. There’s going to be some visitors from Eastern Europe here in a few days, and rumor has it there is a powerful Fury among them. I thought you could speak to them, maybe convince her to join us. You’re a charming lad, Nick. Learn to use it, not waste it on the undeserving.”
“I can do that,” Nick promised.
“Lovely. Her name is Danica Panic.”
**Author's Note:**
> As soon as I finished the book, I had to see if there were any yuletide requests for The Bone Season. I had a great time writing this and taking a stab at some of the many unanswered questions in the book.
>
> The quote the bibliomancer reads is from “The Picture of Dorian Gray.”
>
> The Wellcome Building, where Nick's lab is located, is a real building in London. IRL it is home to the Wellcome Trust and Gallery. Henry Wellcome owned a pharmaceutical company in the 1890s. http://www.medicallondon.org/images/12wellcomecollection.jpg
>
> Dr. William’s Library, a theological library in London, is the model for the Scion Forbidden Library.
> http://charliemiddleton.files.wordpress.com/2013/07/imag0059.jpg
> Interior: http://www.gowlland.net/Dr_Williams_3.jpg |
784418e919af43ee8e78935494465895 | ['a46fdc19ebf44639b97fb0469c8d3983'] | Reluctantly, Harry walked up to the woman, and gave her a hug. She wasn't dissolving, so she was solid – definitely not a ghost. "Harry, what's going on with you? You're acting like you haven't seen me in years!"
'About 16, to be exact,' Harry thought. But he didn't say anything, he just smiled. He had a mother – his mother!
"Harry, you have to let me go, or the bacon will burn," Lily said. Harry complied, and made his way over to the small marble table, sitting down in one of the four chairs. He tried to figure out what exactly happened. All he could remember was talking to Malfoy, wishing Voldemort was never born, and then sparks from his robe. Sparks…What was in his robe that could've made sparks? Then he remembered. He had still had the wand when he was talking to Malfoy, when he made the wish. He knew the Elder Wand had extraordinary magic, but could it grant its master's wishes? Even if said wish would basically end a life, or never let it begin?
He didn't dwell on it too long, as his mother put a plate of pancakes on the table in front of him, and another plate with crispy bacon and buttered toast. "Sorry, there's no jam for the toast. Your bloody father ate the last of it when he left for work." His father? Of course! If Voldemort wasn't around to kill his mum, he couldn't have killed his dad, either. Harry smiled as a floating syrup bottle poured itself onto the pancakes. He had a family. He had his mum, and his dad… 'It's too bad I don't seem to have siblings.'
As he began to dig into his breakfast, he noticed his mum putting stacks of pancakes on two other plates. One, he reasoned, was for her, but if she said his dad was at work, who could the other one be for? 'Maybe I do have a sibling after all,' he thought as he heard footsteps on the spiral staircase. But the boy who walked into the kitchen certainly wasn't one related to Harry.
"Malfoy?" Harry asked incredulously. What could he have possibly been doing at his house?
"Since when do you call me by my last name?" the pale boy asked, as he took the plate Lily held out to him. "Thanks, Lily."
"No problem, Draco, dear. I'll go eat mine upstairs, so you can talk about whatever it is teenage wizards talk about," she said, smiling at them as she left.
Draco started eating his breakfast, while Harry narrowed his eyes at the blond. How dare he barge in during the happiest time of Harry's life? "Why, exactly, are you staring at me, Harry?" the blond asked, dropping his fork in annoyance.
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked.
"I always sleep over this time of year. Then, your mum brings us to Diagon Alley for us to buy school supplies, while she and her sister hang out in Muggle London. Damn, how much of that liquor from your dad's cabinet did you drink last night?" Malfoy asked, looking at Harry with an annoyed, confused, and slightly worried look.
"So, wait, we're like, friends?" Harry asked, trying to figure out if this was some joke.
"Yes, Harry, we've been best friends since, basically, our birth. Did you maybe hit your head or something?" the blond asked, reaching out to feel the back of Harry’s head, the latter swatting it away.
Harry didn't understand this. He and Malfoy were not just friends, but best mates? On what planet did that happen? He knew he'd thought they could've been friends, but he didn't see how in a world with no Voldemort, they actually would be. Most of the similarities they had were due to Voldemort, after all.
'Wow,' he thought to himself as he pushed his hair – why was it so bloody long? – out of his eyes.
"You can't honestly be wearing that to Diagon Alley, right?" Draco asked, examining his outfit. "I mean, I get you're really proud of your Muggle relatives and all, but you could at least make an effort to make yourself look presentable."
"Well then, O Fashion Genius, what would you like me to wear?" Harry asked sarcastically.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Come on, I'll help you pick something out." He dragged Harry out of his chair, and the plates floated over to the sink, to begin cleaning themselves. 'It's so much easier when magic does the dirty work, instead of me.'
As they walked up the stairs and into the room Harry woke up in, Draco walked back over to the armoire and began picking out a 'decent' outfit. Harry caught sight of a mirror he hadn't noticed before. He looked in it, determined to fix his hair. However, what he saw shocked him.
Staring back at him wasn't what he usually saw. His eyes were still emerald, like his mother's, and his hair was still raven. However, it wasn't sticking up on all ends like it usually did. Instead, it fell around his face – which also looked a bit different – in smooth greasy-looking locks. He didn't look as 'amazingly identical' to James Potter as he'd always been told he was. In fact, if Harry looked hard enough, he kind of reminded himself of someone else he saw in memories with his father…a certain Slytherin Potions Master.
The realization hit him so hard, he literally fell on the floor in shock. "Draco," he asked from the floor, looking at the blond. Said blond turned away from the robes he was examining to see his best friend on the floor. "Who am I?"
3. Strange New World
**Notes for the Chapter:** | 92bd14ddf349483488ad7afda8f2c556 | ['a46fdc19ebf44639b97fb0469c8d3983'] | 'Chill out, Dyl, William didn't mean it like that. If you would've kept your stupid mouth shut and not talked about how _hot_ it is, he wouldn't have even said that!' Dylan thought to himself. He did, however take his shirt off, and, due to the fact that he thought this night couldn't get any worse, it got caught on his head and muscular arms. "William, I'd hate to bother you, but, could you ... help?"
"With what?" Dylan could hear the chair turning and his step-brother laughing. "Oh, my God." William took this opportunity to climb onto Dylan and straddle his lap. He grazed his hands up Dylan's sides, and pulled the shirt over Dylan's head and arms with ease. He had learned by now to control his urges when his imagination runs wild, but this was just too much, and it might have been William getting so turned on that he imagined it, but he felt a little friction in the boy underneath him. Who kissed who, both boys were unsure of, but the next second they were making out with each other on Dylan's bed, neither wanting to stop.
However, pretty early on into the make-out session, there was a pounding on the door and the knob began to turn. As two of their sisters entered the bedroom, William fell back and hit his head on the desk chair.
"Are we interrupting something?" Christina asked, she and Phoebe smiling knowingly.
"No, this was nothing, just...nothing," William walked out, throwing Dylan his shirt. With a wink to her sister, Christina followed her brother out. Phoebe shut the door and walked over to her brother, as Dylan scrambled to put on his shirt.
3. Chapter 3
"So… nothing?" Phoebe smirked, sitting next to her brother.
"Shut up, Pheebs," Dylan said, finally getting his shirt back on. His sister didn't have the heart to tell him it was backwards.
"I'm sorry, but I'm just a little confused. I mean, rarely does a person's shirt come off during a 'nothing,' so I have to figure a little more than 'nothing' was happening just a second ago."
"It was me being the world's biggest idiot."
"Well, aren't you always?" Phoebe joked, earning a glare from Dylan. After a beat of silence, she sighed softly and put her arm around her brother. "No, seriously, tell me everything. I'm here for you."
Dylan took a moment, closing his eyes and bracing himself. He had a feeling she'd be fine with it but still, this was only the third person who was going to know his secret. "Phoebe, I'm gay," he admitted softly.
Phoebe had been rubbing his arm soothingly, and she didn't falter a bit at the confession. "I don't know if this is going to make you feel better or worse, but I figured. Go on."
Dylan opened his eyes and stared at her for a second. "You... knew? How?"
"I can't explain it, I just had a feeling. Maybe it's just sister's intuition. Is there anything else you'd like to talk about?"
Dylan nodded, accepting it. Clearly she didn't have a problem with him liking guys, but now to tell her which guy in particular he currently liked. "Okay, I also may kind of... sort of... have feelings for William."
"Mhm, and?" Phoebe asked, still not surprised.
"Is that really all the emotion you can gather up for this?"
Phoebe rolled her eyes softly, smiling. "I'm sorry." She cleared her throat and faked shock, exclaiming, "Oh, my God! And?!"
Dylan laughed at her obvious caricature of what he'd been expecting, shaking his head and accepting that maybe she knew him that well after all. He took a deep breath and began explaining, ending off going onto a small ramble, "Well, I was blasting my iPod and then he yanked the headphones off and I don't know if it was intentional, accidental, or my imagination, but his hand seemed to touch my thigh, for about a millisecond, and of course, I started blushing, a lot, and then he realized and asked why and I came up with the dumb excuse that it was hot, so he told me to take my shirt off if I was that hot. The idiot that I am got my shirt stuck, so he was helping me get it unstuck-"
"Which is when you guys started kissing and we walked in," Phoebe cut in.
" _We_ weren't kissing. _I_ was kissing _him_. There is _no way_ that he could've been kissing me back. He's straight, and my brother!"
"Step-brother," Phoebe corrected. "And you'll never know how he feels about you until you ask him."
"What am I supposed to say, Pheebs? 'Hey William, I know you're straight but do you have any feelings for me, even though we're practically related, totally opposite, and you love making my life miserable?' He'd tell Frank and want to move out of the bedroom."
"Think about things and don't keep letting your insecurities take control. And when you realized the truth," Phoebe got up and walked out, then leaned back into the doorway, " _just tell him already._ "
4. Chapter 4
Christina almost lost sight of William incredibly fast, in her opinion. It didn't make sense why he was practically running down the hall, but she supposed it was mostly just regarding his own fears. She could understand him being scared, but she didn't understand why he'd seemed almost angry when he'd left his bedroom.
"Will, wait a second, would you?" she asked, a little exasperated. Her brother didn't slow down and she groaned. By the time she'd finally caught up, he was on the stairs up to the lighthouse. "Hey, what's the rush?" she asked quietly, grabbing his arm.
The teenage boy in question stopped at the hand on his arm, sighing softly. "Can I just be left alone, Christina?" he asked quietly. |
c03e65e1252e496c965b9f04e00732ee | ['a4a0c82d02194e459e6e66ade55758be'] |
1. Prologue
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Golden Week is a week from the 29th of April to early May containing a number of Japanese holidays. Many Japanese nationals take paid time off during this holiday, and some companies are closed down completely and give their employees time off. Golden Week is the longest vacation period of the year for many Japanese workers.
Yet another day of school comes to an end. The trio of friends is, just like always, walking back home together.
Right after the class ended, everyone at 1-A class celebrated-- Why? Because it's the Golden Week! To some, it may mean being able to finally get some rest from their hectic routine but to young Izuku it means he would have some free time to do some training by himself. Even at holidays, the heroes don't stop, after all!
At Golden Week, the UA students were allowed to visit their family-- for 2 days only. One week sounds too risky. In fact, 2 days already sounds pretty dangerous. No one knows when villains may target any of them. But Nezu, the principal, believes it's unfair to separate the children from their parents for such a long period. Therefore, there'll be intensive patrolling around each student's houses. They're also allowed to stay at their respective dorms if they want to.
"Iida-kun, what are you planning to do for the next two days?" Ochako turns her head to the reliable class rep.
"I'll visit my brother at the hospital. It's been a while since I last visited."
"Is... he alright?" Deku asks, worriedly. Ingenium's retirement was a big loss to the hero society... but what matters the most right now is whether he is healthy or not.
"I heard he has gotten better the past months. It's not a pleasant situation to be in but apparently, he's cheerful again."
"I'm glad to hear that! Smiling is important even in the toughest times!" Ochako smiles herself, in relief.
"What about you, Uraraka-san?" Deku asks. "What will you do during the break?"
"Mmm... I'm thinking about going home."
"To meet your parents?" This time, Iida asks her.
"Ahaha, I wish. My parents will spend the whole Golden Week working. There won't be anyone waiting for me. I'm just gonna check up on how things are back at home."
Deku was silently staring at Ochako. There was something unusual in her tone of voice. She sounded... kinda lonely... worried, and also _frustrated._
Of course she would be. She probably wants to meet her parents. She wants them to rest. She wanted to be able to do something for them at times like these. She wants to be _their hero_.
And that's admirable. That's how she is.
But there wasn't much she could really do, sadly. Even though this break is specifically for the students to reunite with their family...
Is there... is there anything Deku could do for her...? He was lost in thought when he finally had an idea.
"Uraraka-san! Would you... like to come over to my house tomorrow?" He asks, shyly.
_Wait. Did that sounded too weird. Ohmygod._
Deku goes full tomato mode.
"T-TO HAVE, LIKE, LUNCH? I MEAN. MY MOTHER PREPARES DELICIOUS FOOD AND SHE WOULD LOVE TO HAVE YOU AROUND AND I DON'T WANT YOU TO BE ALONE SO I--"
Ochako giggles.
"H-Huh!?" Deku had calmed down a little bit but he was taken aback by her reaction.
"Deku-kun... you're so kind."
She smiles fondly at him. And for some reason looking at her smile like that, just for him, as she said such sweet words made the boy feel all warm inside. He could feel his face burning up.
"Midoriya-kun? Your face is all red. Also, you're paralyzed." Iida's statements made him snap out of it.
"O-Oh! Sorry about that. I'm alright!" Oh wow. He was so caught up in her...
_B-Beauty._
That his whole world stopped for a minute there.
"Is it really okay though? I don't wanna be a bother..." She smiles but since this an family reunion and all... maybe it would better to let them have their moment together.
"No, not at all! I already said this before but I'm sure mom would love to have you around, Uraraka-san! ...A-And..."
Ochako and Iida stare at him, waiting for him to continue his sentence. He looks kinda hesitant, until he regains composure and finally says it.
"And so would I!" But then his face gets all red again. And Ochako gets all red too. There are two tomatoes now.
"WOO-HOO! What a **bold** man!" Suddenly Mina's voice was heard. They had stopped walking for so long that some other students caught up to them. "Accept it, Uraraka!" Mina stares at Ochako in antecipation. Wait, were they listening!? Since _when!?_
"Inviting a girl to your house just like that... I bet he wants _to--_ " Tsuyu slaps Mineta with her long frog tongue before he even finishes. "Mineta-chan, _don't_."
The two are silently blushing. They can't even face each other right now.
"Isn't that nice, Uraraka-kun! Your friend is inviting you to their house for a friendly reunion. You should accept it." Iida says, smiling. He was oblivious to the situation.
Mina boos at him. "Iida, you don't get it at all!"
The two instantly stop blushing.
_"Friends... yeah. This is just a friendly reunion, right...?"_ Deku thinks to himself.
_"Why am I getting so worked up about it? I'm just gonna have lunch at Deku-kun's house. But..."_
She interrupts her thoughts and turns her head to him. He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment until he noticed she was looking directly at him. He blushes, but not as intensively as before.
_"... when he said that... it made me really happy."_
The girl smiles, placing her right hand on her chest. Right now, she felt warm inside. She knows she had decided to push down those feelings for now, but she can't possibly deny them. | c5e3cda5526140898e3476c4e67f890e | ['a4a0c82d02194e459e6e66ade55758be'] | The two are sitting on Izuku's bed. The door was closed, and the room was pretty much empty because his belongings were currently at UA. There's a small table in the front of them, where the tea is placed at.
Awkward silence is in the air.
_"I-I need to talk about something."_ Deku thought. But what? Ack, whatever that comes to his head, c'mon! He looks to the side and sees Ochako's legs. He always thought she had some _nice legs-- wait, not that._
"U-Uh--"
Ochako finally looks at him after several minutes staring at the ground in deep silence. "Y-Yeah?"
"U-Uraraka-san, you're _always_ wearing black stockings, huh!"
This is a weird topic.
Hopefully she isn't weirded out by it.
"Ah! Yeah! I'm always wearing them. It's great, specially during winter! I can't stand the cold wind on my legs!"
"Then you're more of a summer person?"
“Summer is great, but I like Spring the most! It’s warm, and I love to eat some soft, _soft_ Sakura Mochi while watching the cherry blossoms!”
“I see... Spring is very like you, Uraraka-san.”
She blushes a little bit. “Y-You think so?”
“Yeah.”
...
Silence was back. But it only lasted a few seconds this time.
"B-By the way, Deku-kun! Your mom's really nice."
"Yeah. Thank you. She's really happy that you're around. S-So am I."
She blushes, then smiles.
"You said that yesterday too..."
Then he blushes too.
"O-Oh, yeah. Because I... really mean it."
Silence. Except this time the room felt hotter-- but it wasn't exactly _the room_ that got hotter, it was _the two of them_. Their bodies were getting warmer and warmer by every second.
"K-Kinda hot in here!" Ochako desperately fans herself.
"Y-Yeah! Should I switch the AC on?" He asks.
"S-Sure!"
He switches it on and a cold breeze passes through the two of them.
"Aaaah~ Ain't this nice!" Suddenly she spoke in Kansai accent. Deku giggles.
"A-Ah, sorry, it kinda slipped." She laughs awkardly.
The two laugh together.
"You don't have to be cautious. When you talk like that, it's really cu..."
He freezes. Ochako was staring at him, wide-eyed.
_"W-What?"_
Well. The AC is on but it's still really hot in here. In fact, it's hotter than before.
_Mumblemumblemumblemumblemumble._
_"Oh my god. What do I do. I'm letting my personal feelings take over. We were having such a nice conversation but I just ruined it. What is she thinking right now?? She thinks I'm weird? She definitely thinks I'm weird. How do I fix this? Is there even a way to fix it? Do I just change the subject? Would that be too weird. I gotta calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Cal--"_
"Deku-kun..."
“Y-Yesh!?”
He snapped out of it. He looks at her and--
She had both of her hands on her reddened cheeks and was looking at him in antecipation. "What were you going to say...?"
_His heart was beating faster._
_And faster._
She looks so... _so..._
He places both his hands over her shoulders. She let out a slight squeak.
She’s just a friend. They’re not in a relationship. He doesn’t even knows if she likes him too. He shouldn’t... he _can’t_ do this, but...
“D-Deku-kun...!?” What is... _what is he doing?_
"Uraraka-san..." He pulls her closer. He was trembling. He was nervous. Being so bold wasn’t like him at all... but right now, he couldn't control his overflowing feelings for her.
"... you're _really_ cute."
_“...!”_
They both instinctively close their eyes, not even sure of what was going on, but it was somehow happening already. Right as they were about to join their lips together...
"Izuku, can you do me _a fav--_ " It was Inko, who just opened the door.
Her face got all red after seeing that scene happening in the front of her. _"Ahngnnfhfhffggmjg???_ " She isn't talking in any specific human language.
" ** _A-A-AH URARAKA-SAN._** THERE WAS SOMETHING IN YOUR EYE! DON’T WORRY, I ALREADY TOOK IT OFF." Deku said, almost screaming, in a really high pitched voice.
Ochako just went along with it, still confused about everything that was happening, but back to her senses.
" ** _AAAAH, YEAH._** THANK YOU DEKU-KUN!!! YOU'RE A LIFESAVER." They let go of each other.
They take some seconds to calm down.
"S-Sorry about that, mom! What's wrong?"
"O-Oh. Ahaha! I thought I had interrupted something..." She laughs.
_"Ahaha!"_ The three of them nervously laugh together.
The mood got ligher, thanks to this.
"You see, I ran out of soy sauce... could you two go to a convenience store to buy it?”
"Of course!" Ochako was happy that she would be able to do something to help. "Let's go, Deku-kun?"
"Sure." He stands up and gets ready to leave.
... It was as if nothing had happened.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Thanks for reading!!
> I must also thank you guys for the positive reactions on chapter 1!! It motivates me to keep writing!!
> Chapter 3... soon!
3. Things I want to say.
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> After an awkward experience, Deku and Ochako proceed to the convenience store...
The nearest convenience store wasn't that far away. But the silent, empty streets, along with their awkward mood made this feel like a long, long walk.
Ochako kept glancing at him for a few seconds before looking away yet again. Her mind was a mess right now. She was still trying to process what happened in that room. But what matters the most now is... does Deku actually likes her back!?
_"Well... he did said... I'm cute."_
Her face got all red. He really said that! Is she dreaming? Someone pinch her cheeks! _So embarrassing!_ |
56c3a02b74cc47d19f2a46f91d648363 | ['a4ad22694afd4618a26eaf703bca28c1'] | Dean just started to shake his head and began to murmur „no no no no no no no that couldn’t be no no he can’t know it no, it’s not possible no no“.
He was starting to freak out, Sam wanted just one bed because he will tell Dean that he was a perverted horrible person and then he would leave him forever because he couldn’t be near his perverted brother but before it could evolve in a full blown panic attack Sam was kneeling in front of him.
He felt Sams big warm, calloused hands on each side of his face and heard the soft voice of Sammy murmuring
„Dean, just breath now. In-hold-and-out, C’mon breath with me. Slowly in and slowly out and again in and out.Yeah that’s good. Do you feel better ?“
Dean breathed on for 3 cycles and then nodded and looked up in the concerned face of his little brother.
„Dean please talk to me, I know it’s hard for you to speak about something like that but it’s really important so could you please do this for me. Please I promise it will be worth it“
Dean took a deep breath, he didn’t know how this could end well but he was a sucker for his brother and the phrase ‚could you please do it for me‘
was all it took for Dean to grave and so he nodded but before he could start talking he felt dizzy and started to blink his eyes rapidly and swayed to the side.
„Ok that’s enough come on I’ll take you to the bed. Stand up, ok careful, just lean on me and we walk slowly to the bed.“
They took the few steps to the bed together and Sam lowered Dean carefully on the bed. He turned around and got a glass of water for him.
He handed him the glass and Dean swallowed a few sips gratefully and gave it back to Sam.
„Ok now lay down…. Don’t look at me like that, I’m not the one who nearly had a panic attack“
Dean frowned and huffed but complied to Sams order, he stretched out and closed his eyes.
He was taken by surprise as he felt the bed dip under another weight. His eyes popped open and he was taken aback by how close Sammy was to him.
Sam smiled and asked softly „Are you feeling better now?“
He was too overcome with the happy feeling of being so close to Sam that he could only nod.
Sam smiled softly and patted him on the chest.
Dean basked in the feeling for a bit longer because he knew it would be the last time he would be this close to his baby brother, after this night,
after what he is about to tell Sam he is sure that Sam will hate him and never be able to look his big brother in the eyes again.
„So I assume you heard everything I sobbed in your chest and on top of that you also heard me last night, it’s true yea ok…“ Tears started to trickle down his face but he was too in to his confession to notice anything „…Sam you were, are and ever will be my everything, I need you like air to breath, I need you with my whole being and I love you, I loved you since mum put you bundled in a blanket in my arms and this love just grew overtime, I would do anything to keep you safe…“ He started to speak so quickly that it was hard to get air in his lungs but this was important, he must do this, it's now or never „...you know now my deepest secret and Sam please believe me I never wanted you to find out and I know how wrong this is but I can't change it, I will forever love you but Sam I can’t lose you, I can’t live without you, I can’t do this again. The time you were in college it was hell for me, well so I thought when I was 22 but the last 4 month in literal hell without the possibility to see you, showed me again I just can’t live without you.“ The stream of his tears was stronger now and he began to hiccup between his words „Sam please I wi-will never talk ab-bout it again. I just c-can’t lo-ose you. No please don’t l-leave me…“ He began to sob but before he could panic again he was enclosed in Sams muscled arms and surrounded by his scent, a scent which always meant home and safety for him. He heard Sam murmur besides his ear
„Shh… it’s all good De, all will be fine just breath for a minute, I promise you I won’t go anywhere. Just please calm down…shhh“
Sam started to card his fingers through his hair and that calmed him down bit. It was actually ironic because that was the only thing that could have put Sam to sleep when he was little
and now it was him who needed it to calm down, well so turns the time. Sam manhandled him so that he was partly lying on his chest and started to hum,
it was such a nice feeling that Dean started to lose himself but he knew it wasn't right, it was wrong t like it this much.
„Dean?“ Dean stiffened cause he knew it was over, now came the moment Sam would leave him.
„De please calm down, I promised to you it will all be fine and now I just want you to listen to me,
just let me talk and I want you to simply listen to my words and let me talk out before you say anything, could you do this for me ?“ | d5f7088f08db4187ad667dfcf6469372 | ['a4ad22694afd4618a26eaf703bca28c1'] | He turned around 'What do you mean with different?' I sighted 'well you're nice to me, you brought milk and you've starred yesterday for hours in my eyes' Sherlock blushed 'I just want to be nice to you John but I can't explain it to you... Not yet' He wanted to go but I kept him on the wrist 'Sherlock what's the matter? Please speak with me!' 'John I can't please let me go' 'Sherlock no tell me the truth' I pulled him around the table and in front of me. 'John please let me go I can't tell you the truth now' I noticed how close we stood together, I can felt his breath on my skin. I blushed crimson. 'John why you do this ?' 'What?' I asked confused 'This' he said and touched my cheek
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> The question is could he be nicer ?
> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter :)
5. Does that really happened ?!
We stood in the kitchen 10 cm away from each other and he hold my cheek 'Ehmm' 'And this?' 'What?' I said confused. 'When we are close together you are blushing, you're mumbling words and can't answer to my questions clearly and I would like to understand why'
_Can I longer lie in this beautiful face? How should I say him that I've feelings for him more than friendship, that I want more than friendship!_ But will this ruin our friendship, would he want that I move out, that we don't work together any longer. But what if he feels the same things ? Can I risk this? No I can't, it's better if I lie
'It's nothing Sherlock maybe I'm just sick' 'John don't lie to me!' he said in a soft voice 'I can feel your pulse' he said with a smirk and I realized that his index finger was on my pulsepoint. What should I do next ? Maybe I could go away but I thought Sherlock saw this idea coming up in my mind so he strengthened his grip around my wrist 'John please don't go away' My eyes widened a bit ... did I heard this right ?! Dowas Sherlock Holmes said please to me?
Now I was the one to ask 'Why?' and he was the one who blushed 'Because I like you near me' I was confused, had Sherlock the same feelings or was is just an experiment (he loves to try things out on me) 'Sherlock what do you mean you like me close?' 'Well I can't describe it and that's why I wouldn't tell you this tonight, I have some feelings I can't identify' as I heard that my heart skipped a beat now I wanted to know more about these feelings
'Sherlock what feelings?' 'I can't describe them John but...' He pulled me to him and our faces were only inches away '...but I can show you how I feel' and with this 'feel' his lips were on mine. First it was so light as a feather but as I felt his lips on mine I pulled him in a closer, one of my hand in his curls and one on his cheek, his hands laid on my back and stroked little circles on it. _Oh god it felt so good!_
As he felt that I kissed him back, he deepened the kiss. Out of breath we broke the kiss. 'Sherlock what was that?' I asked. He smiled shyly to me 'Well John that's how I feel but I don't know if u feel the same way that's why I couldn't be near you for days and now all broke out I'm so sor-...' I put a finger on his lips and said 'Sherlock you idiot there is nothing for you, you should say sorry for, I have the same feelings towards you' and with this I kissed him again.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> I'm sorry it took so long... But we got a new dog that's why I haven't much time to write :)
6. The right direction ?!
The second kiss was much better, cause we both knew that we feel the same things towards each other. His one hand was on my back, stroke it lightly, the other one was cupping my cheek and his thumb stroked circles. My one hand was in his smooth black curls ... _how much I wanted to ruffle through them in the past_... and the other one on his hip.
His lips were so soft but I can't held my self so I bit him slightly on the bottom lip and for me he let out the most beautiful sound I heard in years. I broke apart and looked him deep in the eyes and I saw a tear glisten in his eye. ' _ **Sherlock what the matter? Was I going to far? Was it hurtful? Or did you wanted not more? Sherlock I'm so sorry but I had these feelings for so long now and you brought them all up with this kiss**_ ' He pulled me in a hug, my head on his chest while he whispered in my ear 'John that was absolutely right, I have some tears in my eyes because I'm so happy that you feel the same way, I can not hold back these feelings any longer'.
He kissed my head. I was so happy at this moment and said 'Sherlock but what did that mean now?' 'I don't know John you proclaimed to everyone that you aren't gay but now you kissed me so what does that mean for you?' I blushed but I can't held it back anymore 'Sherlock I love you and I would like to call you my boyfriend if you want and I want that you are by my side for rest the entire life'. |
b82ce37bce984a46841a4154edadd717 | ['a4b5616ba4934f3da9eb7353c3497f70'] | Shane didn’t even let Daryl speak, even if he was finished, he wasn’t going to let him because his lips were crushed against his and it felt so good, just to have that contact with someone, to be able to feel warmth from something that was living and breathing. That was all Shane wanted now, because all around him it was death, and he was losing himself somewhere in the middle of it. Caught between being alive and so close to that edge. He moaned as he cupped Daryl’s face in his hand, stubble tickling his fingertips, lips so pliant against his own, but those hands…fuck those hands were dragging over the flesh of his back and all he wanted to do now was pin the younger man down and give it to him like he hadn’t ever been fucked before. “I want you,” he rasped, “but I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“You won’t, I’m fine…” Daryl drug his nails up and down Shane’s back, lifting his shirt up in the process and feeling his flesh. He gasped hard when Shane wrapped a hand around his throat and squeezed, making him moan raggedly. Before they could further advance, from the corner of his eye, the door began to open.
5. Chapter 5
Shane just managed to jump off of Daryl without hurting him and planted himself to his side, one foot on the floor, sitting by his hip. They were too close to getting caught because Rick walked through the door and stared at them both, Shane trying to conceal a hard-on and Daryl’s throat a little red from where he’d squeezed.
“What’s going on?” Rick asked, looking at the two of them.
“Nothin’ I was just checking up on Daryl and making sure he’s okay,” he said, eyes on Daryl the entire time, “he seems to be doing good though. We can’t wait to have you back out there.”
“I know, I’m going crazy in this damn room. I don’t see anything and I feel useless just sittin’ here waiting for shit to happen,” Daryl grumbled.
He was still staring at Daryl, wanting to kick Rick out so he could crawl under the covers and wrap those legs around his waist, fuck Daryl until he was screaming, but he couldn’t, so he bit his lip and tried to play it calm when he was really vibrating on the inside.
Rick chuckled and sat down on a chair and Shane wanted to kick him out when he did. “You’ll be out soon enough, so how are you though?”
“Like Shane said, I’m doin’ fine, I might be up and going tomorrow and I don’t want to be in this damnit room anymore.”
“Your tent is still where it’s at, you want to go out there?” Rick said with a curious look. “You sure?”
“Hell yeah, brother. I hate it in here.”
“All right,” Rick mumbled, “I’ll let Hersel know what your plan is, I don’t know if he’ll think it’s a good idea, however.”
“Fine, I’ll sleep one more night and then I’m out… I can’t take it.”
When Rick left him and Shane alone again, Daryl bit on his bottom lip, which caused Shane to hiss.
“God, don’t do that…it’s sexy and we can’t afford to be almost caught again. And don’t be stupid, you gotta stay in here for one more night.”
“I said I would, didn’t I?” Daryl all but whined. He was aching, both from pain, and then the need to have Shane touch. Slowly, Daryl was coming to realize that Shane was very much going to be addictive like a drug. Hissing a small breath, Daryl on some whim reached up and slapped Shane across the face. The reaction he received from that small action was Shane pinning him to the bed with his body and forcing his tongue down his throat, making Daryl groan and arch up against him.
“Don’t fucking play with me, Daryl. I can’t take it…” Shane bit at the younger, injured man’s throat, eliciting a piercing moan from the man beneath. All Shane could do was grind his cock against the other man’s and stifle the urge to flip him over or throw his legs up over his shoulders and ram the fuck home.
“You won’t hurt me… you won’t hurt me,” Daryl all but chanted.
Shane hissed a harsh breath and ripped himself away. “I can’t…you’re hurt, I can tell, we need to wait…we’ll wait when you’re better, tomorrow okay? Baby, we’ll do it tomorrow.” He pet through Daryl’s hair, brushing his lips over his forehead. “I have to go, I gotta do rounds tonight.”
He didn’t wanna leave Daryl like that but he gave him one last kiss and left him alone, walking through the house and swearing he could hear Glenn giving it to Maggie a few doors down. He rolled his eyes and all but tromped down the stairs into the kitchen to grab a plate a food. He went outside and sat on the front step, staring out at the field and wishing nothing would come through the trees, that there would be peace. He didn’t get to eat by himself for long before Andrea sat down next to him.
“What’s going on with you and Daryl?” She asked, “you two…are you?” She looked down at her feet. “Like are you…fucking?”
Shane dropped his fork and stared at her. He wasn’t going to get angry about it, so he kept his mouth shut and tried to play dumb. “What would give you that idea?”
“Because I saw you kissing through the window…like up on Dale’s RV…” Andrea looked down at her hands and made them into a steeple. | 105f5e98720e44f3b080ab6b2b0d2774 | ['a4b5616ba4934f3da9eb7353c3497f70'] |
1. Chapter 1
**Author's Note:**
> This is based around the TV version of 'The Walking Dead'. However, it will be AU should I decide to continue.
Daryl closed his eyes against the brightness of the sun as he laid out in his slightly disconnected part of camp, his jacket hanging up from it being recently washed by Carol. She always did weird stuff for him, it was kind of strange, especially since he kind of got the feeling that she was seeking more than a paternal attention from him. Daryl only saw her fit the mother role, whatever that meant—he’d never had one of those, that he could remember—but he wasn’t jumping into that bag of worms, he didn’t need a lady crying after him if they had sex and he got bit or something fucked like that. Daryl didn’t play those games. No emotions, no attachments, no excuses.
The group at the current moment were all scattered, the men gathering, fighting and bickering about something or other, and the women inside making supper. Daryl could see Dale up on his RV, keeping watch and making sure he couldn’t see any walkers coming near the farm. He supposed he should go out and do something…anything other than relax under a tree and pretend he was anywhere but there. Anywhere. But, Daryl was feeling slightly separated from the group for a reason, he didn’t feel that important, rather he felt used…that they only kept him around because he was a good hunter, that he could track even in the toughest situations, that he was the only one who found a trail for Sophia.
A shadow crossed over his little patch of sun and Daryl reached out for his weapon, but it wasn’t nearby where he left it, instead he looked up and found Shane standing there holding it.
“Why are ya up here all by yourself, huh? Sitting up here, avoiding the group…you think you too good for us or something?” Shane spat on the ground right in front of Daryl’s feet.
Grinding his teeth together, Daryl kept his mouth shut because he was a second from flying at Shane and knocking his teeth down his throat. He was that close.
“Gonna say somethin’ or is your mouth glued shut, boy?” Shane paced back and forth.
Daryl’s eyes narrowed and he lunged, fist connecting with Shane’s jaw; the sound of bone to bone ringing in his ears. He hissed loudly when his arm was torqued back and he was face first in the dirt and leaves, cheek pressing into one of the stones from what looked to have been a fireplace. “Think you’re all tough Shane, I know you ain’t…you ain’t nothing out here…you’re just Rick’s second man, gotta do what he says…”
“Shut your fucking mouth…or I’m gonna shut it for you.”
“Yeah, what you gonna do…huh?” Daryl taunted, giving another little hiss when Shane tweaked his arm just short of it really hurting.
“Do this…” Shane shoved his hand between his body and the ground, top of his hand flat to the earth as his palm grazed over metal teeth and a zipper, but not his own, oh no that was Daryl’s crotch and he gave it a grab, giving a satisfied smirk as the man below let out a groan. “Haven’t been touched in a long time? Feels good, doesn’t it?” He whispered in the younger man’s ear, lips just close enough to taste the flesh of his ear.
“Get your hands off me!” Daryl shouted, squirming a little under the hold. “Let me go…fuckin faggot…”
“If I’m a faggot, why are you hard, huh? I ain’t the only one lonely here, am I Daryl? Whatcha say, let me stretch that tight ass out a little, huh? Bet you’d like that, bet you’d like to go for a real ride…”
“Yes,” Daryl whispered, lips brushing against a dirty leaf.
“What? I can’t hear you.” Shane smiled against his neck, hand just teasing the cock growing under his palm.
“I said yes…” And he swore he could hear Merle in his ear, calling him a fuckin fairy and a pansy ass, but so what. The world was a sad place and there was nothing out there but loss and pain, Daryl knew that, and right now with his face in the mud and Shane on his back, promising some contact, Daryl was okay with that. But he also knew this wasn’t going to be some romantic bull shit like Maggie and Glenn, no…this wasn’t about ‘I love you’, and ‘I hope you never die…’ this was him and Shane letting it out and using the other for the sake of loneliness.
And like a fire, he could feel the shirt ripping off his back as Shane’s hands shredded the material and started tugging on his jeans. “Up on your knees.”
Daryl didn’t need to be told twice, he was on them as soon as Shane let up to give him room. He shook out of the shirt, hands all but shaking as he shoved his pants down to his knees, letting them pool there. He could hear Shane hiss in a breath when he exposed himself; that only made him smile.
“God, I bet that ass is tighter than any pussy I’ve been in.”
Daryl swung his head around to glance at Shane for the first time since he came around. “Why don’t you quit talking and hop too…find out.”
It didn’t take more than that for Shane to spit into his palm and slather it over his very hard cock. Daryl looked back at the ground and dug his nails in, ready for the ride to begin. He groaned when he felt Shane’s cock slide deep into his body without pause, the burn and pain of it brought him all back to reality; he loved anything when it hurt. |
3ee0043a3dd149099ab2dbdfdc27f74c | ['a4ce834ddd6d42d6bd6226be58bc884a'] | So Bruce pulls him up, so that they’re pressed together front to back. He’s holding Tony up with one arm over Tony’s chest. His other hand goes to Tony’s throat. Tony’s breathing stutters. He tries to spread his legs more.
Bruce goes a little faster, and the friction is drying the spit because there’s more of a drag now. Tony doesn’t sound like he minds, though. He’s jerking his cock in quick, desperate motions. Bruce slams in hard, harder than before, bottoming out. At the same time, the hand around Tony’s throat closes, not enough to cut off Tony’s breath, but enough for him to feel it. Tony comes with a loud groan, head tipped back against Bruce’s shoulder. Tony’s hand is spasming slightly, so Bruce takes over, stroking him through his orgasm. He knows that Tony likes to be fucked beyond his orgasm, but Bruce doesn’t want to do that without lube.
They just stand there leaning against each other until Bruce pulls out. Tony climbs over the couch to lie down on it, not even bothering to pull up his pants and Bruce pulls off the condom, tucking himself back in, and heads for the bathroom.
‘Want me to suck that?’, Tony asks, voice hoarse from moaning. Bruce turns to look at him.
He’s referring to Bruce’s cock, which is still hard. ‘No,’ Bruce says.
Tony arches his back, hand drifting to his ass. ‘I don’t turn you on?’
‘Obviously you do,’ Bruce says, gesturing at the bulge in his pants.
‘But not enough for you to come?’ Tony spreads his legs, pulling up his knees a little. His hole is red and slightly swollen, nothing that won’t go away in a couple hours at most.
Bruce sighs. ‘I feel like we’ve had this conversation.’
‘I wanna have it again.’
‘I don’t.’
‘It’s just weird. I know a lot of people with all kinds of issues like yours, but all of them can come during sex.’
‘I guess I’m just unique,’ Bruce says. He wanted to sound mocking, but his voice just sounds flat. Plenty of people have told him he’s not normal. It doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s just not a fun thing to be reminded of.
Tony sighs. He’s still rubbing his hole absently. It’s sort of distracting. ‘At least don’t take a cold shower, then. Go jerk off on your own if you really don’t want me to be there, but don’t just wait for it to go away. Blue balls isn’t hot.’
Bruce turns back to the bedroom door.
‘Think of me, okay?’, Tony says from behind him.
Bruce pulls the bathroom door shut behind himself, then locks it for good measure and slides down his pants. He grips his cock, then thinks better of it and pulls off his sweater first. It’s much too hot. He’s quick about jerking himself off. There’s enough pre-come to slick the way and enough thoughts of Tony still fresh on his mind to pull him over the edge easily.
He doesn’t give himself a moment to come down, just washes his hands, then his cock and pulls his clothes back on. He takes a warm washcloth back into the living room.
Tony is where he left him. Bruce tosses the washcloth at him. Tony makes a show of cleaning himself up, looking at Bruce the whole time. Bruce ignores him. He gets two glasses of water. He downs the first one and sets the second one down on the coffee table next to Tony.
‘Shouldn’t you punish me?’, Tony asks. He’s pulled his pants back up and is cleaning off the couch.
‘What?’
Tony drops the washcloth and gets up. Bruce is still standing by the coffee table, so Tony ends up standing closer to him than he’d like. ‘Punish me. Because I talked. And I wasn’t allowed to talk.’
‘No,’ Bruce says right away. He’s never liked that kind of dynamic. Obedience can be nice, but not if it’s enforced by creepy, controlling behaviour like punishment and humiliation.
‘You should.’ Tony grabs Bruce wrists to lift his hands to Tony’s throat. ‘You should like, choke me. Or spank me. Or just hit me wherever.’
Bruce pulls his hands back. Tony grabs one, not letting Bruce pull it back this time. He presses it to his throat. It’s a perverted echo of the way Bruce grabbed Tony’s throat only minutes ago. He hadn’t meant that as punishment.
‘I never told you I’d punish you,’ Bruce says. His voice sounds strange to his own ears.
‘You told me to do something and I didn’t do it. That implies punishment.’ Tony presses Bruce’s hand down on his own throat harder. He looks calm, but his heart is beating like crazy underneath Bruce’s fingers. Bruce feels like he’s missing something, like he isn’t in on what’s really going on.
‘Do you _want_ punishment?’, he asks. His voice is unsteady.
Tony shrugs. ‘There should be punishment. Otherwise I’m never going to do anything you say again. ‘Cause there’s no consequences if I don’t do it.’
‘I’m not gonna punish you,’ Bruce repeats. He doesn’t think Tony is really listening.
Tony’s grip loosens on Bruce’s hand and Bruce pulls it away.
‘But that doesn’t make any sense.’
‘It wouldn’t make sense to hurt you just for saying two sentences.’
‘It would! You told me not to talk!’
Bruce is confused. Tony seems angry now. His face is red and blotchy and his hands are balled into fists.
‘You’re just – This isn’t right. You’re not doing this right,’ Tony continues. His fists are visibly shaking. ‘Just get it over with.’
Bruce frowns. ‘Maybe it’s better if I go,’ he says. He’d wanted to leave before Tony sprung all of this punishment crap on him. He can’t help but feel a little bit guilty about it now that Tony seems so unstable. ‘Do you want me to call someone?’ | 52770418be0e4505be3956a5021f886d | ['a4ce834ddd6d42d6bd6226be58bc884a'] | He unlocks the door while Bruce slips a hand under his shirt and pinches a nipple, which makes Tony’s breathing stutter. He goes straight for the kitchen once they’re inside and Bruce follows him to a bar on which a bunch of bottles are displayed. ‘There’s um – a lot of scotch and some brandy. You want any?’
‘You want me to fuck you while I smell of daddy?’, Bruce asks as he inspects the bottles, which are too old and exotic for Tony to have bought at any point in his life.
‘Gross,’ Tony says. ‘Rum?’
Bruce nods as Tony pours both of them a couple fingers. Tony drinks half of glass, Bruce all of his own. Tony tops up and then goes for the stairs with his glass in hand, taking the bottle, too. Bruce is glad to be walking behind him. Most days his limp is pretty much invisible, but he can never quite hide it while walking up stairs.
‘There’s lube and condoms in most of the bedrooms,’ Tony says, almost like he’s calm, as they climb the stairs. ‘And high thread count silk sheets. I think the third guestroom has the largest bed.’
‘Let’s head over there,’ Bruce says, taking another sip of his rum.
Tony leads the way to the guestroom and sets his glass and the bottle on the bedside table before opening a window. The room only smells a little of dust, but Tony seems to like the fresh air.
‘You gonna lay down for me?’, Bruce murmurs. ‘With all of your clothes off.’ He fishes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. ‘Can I smoke?’
Tony nods and starts to undress. Bruce kicks off his shoes, his pants and his boxers, but keeps on the university sweater he’s wearing. It hides the worst of Bruce’s scars. There’s plenty on his upper legs, too, but he can live with Tony seeing those. If Bruce reads him well he won’t be paying any attention to details for the next couple of hours anyway.
He lights a cigarette and only joins Tony on the bed when Tony’s fully undressed. It’s good that Bruce’s wearing contacts today. Glasses always get in the way.
Tony’s staring at his scars, but looks away from them when Bruce leans in to blow smoke into his mouth and doesn’t comment on Bruce keeping on his sweater. Tony has scars, too, on his arms and over his ribs. The middle of his chest is a mess of pale, uneven scar tissue that was obviously caused by something bad and messy. Bruce has no idea what it’s from. He’s heard all kinds of rumours, but any of them could be true.
Bruce finishes his cigarette by blowing each drag into Tony’s mouth, occasionally using his other hand to massage Tony’s balls.
Tony’s gasping and rock hard already when Bruce puts out his cigarette against the outside of his glass and starts to suck on Tony’s nipples. Tony moans loudly, gripping Bruce’s hair with both hands.
This is the kind of shit Bruce is desperate for, Tony’s moans, his gasps, the way his muscles clench and relax. Any obvious sign of pleasure. There’s nothing that turns Bruce on as much as someone who enjoys sex intensely.
He sucks his way to Tony’s cock, taking the skin of Tony’s belly between his teeth occasionally. He only bites hard enough to leave marks when Tony encourages him. He puts his hands on the back of Bruce’s head and gasps: ‘make it hurt.’
Bruce bites the sensitive skin of Tony’s inner thighs and abdomen until Tony can’t hold back any of his moans. Then he sucks him down to the root and Tony groans, the hand in Bruce’s hair clenching slightly.
Bruce has done this before, to Blonsky and some random guys. He knows how to make them beg. Tony is no different and starts to murmur a string of _fuck_ and _please_ and _Bruce_ when Bruce works his tongue just right.
It’s only a couple of minutes before Tony’s drenched in sweat and writhing, one hand clenching the sheets, the other almost pulling out Bruce’s hair. Bruce pulls off, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and gets up to take a couple of sips from his rum. He refills his glass, just to drag it out and hands Tony’s glass to Tony, whose fingers tremble as he takes it. He doesn’t comment on Bruce’s choice to let Tony come down when he’s up so high and it unsettles Bruce a little. It’s almost like Tony trusts him.
He goes through the nightstand drawers until he finds lube and condoms, drops them on a corner of the bed and sets Tony’s glass back on the night stand when Tony hands it to him only half empty.
‘You wanna lie on your belly for me?’, Bruce murmurs, touching the middle of the scars on Tony’s chest.
Tony nods, though he hasn’t quite caught his breath yet and turns over. His back is smooth, without any scars. Bruce has seen his own back in the mirror, and he’s seen Blonsky’s back plenty of times. He’s come to expect the thick, tight lines by now. He’s glad they aren’t there. |
b6be0d58a2c449db81031e834aeea9d4 | ['a4d37ae970664a6085a6d39c1af6c2c8'] | The Fine Print
In America there are two ways to be a Hero. Attend Hero school when your 14 and join and agency when you graduate at 18. Or you can join a Hero College after you finish regular high school. If you chose the later then you'll have to pay tuition, or you could always get a scholarship...
In her 3rd year of High school Gloria Varlet, decided to become a hero. Being too late to join a regular Hero High she needed a scholarship to attend a Hero College. There was no way her family could pay for Hero College on their own. She had two years to apply to scholarships programs. She applied to all of the ones she could. Scholarships for Women, low income families, even ones for having a super speed quirk. In the middle of her senior year she got an offer from a Hero named SuperSonic in New York. She was going to fund her schooling at a hero college of her choice. Gloria accepted right away. She was going to be a Hero!
She went to the Georgia State Hero's College. She loved it and learned so much. Her roommate was named Doris Stubacker. They had the same Hero's basic class, and civilian interactions class, and Doris was amazing, She could transform into a wolf beast monster and she was so strong. They became close friends in their first year. They even helped chose each others Hero names. Gloria Became HyperDrive, the hyper speed hero in the fast lane! Doris was SuperBeast, the monster of the night, terror of villains.
In their third year of college they started dating. One night it was late and they had been up studying, Doris had asked Gloria if she could tell her something. She said that she liked her, that she thought she was beautiful, funny and smart. Doris was going to keep rambling on but Gloria had crossed the room and kissed her. They started going on dates between classes. They were both going to apply to the same agencies, so they could work together.
Just before their fourth year Gloria got a rejection letter from an agency in Savannah. They rejected her due to her prior contractual obligations. She called the place and they said she was a signed member of an agency in New York, they couldn't accept her until her contract was up. Gloria was heart broken, she wanted to work in Georgia, in her home. Gloria called the agency it was said that she was a member of, it was SuperSonic's Agency. She got a hold of the scholarship department, the lady on the phone said that a clause in acceptance of their scholarships is that they have to work at their agency upon graduation.
Why didn't she read the fine print.
When she told Doris, she was crying. Doris was angry, she couldn't believe it, they were getting away with this! The next week was very quiet in their room. Both ladies were upset, though for different reason. Gloria because her plans for the future were shattered. Doris because there was nothing she could do to help her girlfriend.
Their Last year of college was a whirlwind of activity. Battle simulation classes, Hero license tests, Hero costume fittings, Finals. They had barely had time for themselves. They had a month before they graduated and Doris was helping Gloria with her move to New York. The agency would provide her with a small apartment, so she just needed to pack her belongings up. Doris didn't tell Gloria where she was going to work. Gloria wanted to ask but she didn't want to be upset if they were so far apart.
Graduation was full of tears, Gloria parents were so proud of her. Her whole family drove into town to see the ceremony. She was the first hero in their family. Doris' Mother came to support her. Another member of a long line of Heroes. Late that night after they both snuck away from their families Doris told Gloria she wanted to tell her something. She applied to SuperSonics Agency in New York, and she was accepted. She wanted to work in Savannah but she would be so upset leaving Gloria. She was going to ramble even more reasons but Gloria kissed her to shut her up. Just like that night two years ago.
They left on the plan to New York together. Even though neither of them wanted to be going there, they were glad they were going together.
**Author's Note:**
> This was my First fic. I've was just really ispired to try and write something. | bb67fc1b3399442bb03b5e37a34c28c6 | ['a4d37ae970664a6085a6d39c1af6c2c8'] |
New Home
Trisha was nervous as she left the Airport and hailed a cab to take her to the apartment she had rented. In the back of the cab she looks out to view to scenery past by her. She may be in a whole different country but at least a city still feels like a city. Mustafu, Japan was going to have another great hero. Time passed as she was lost in thought, and before she knew it she was at her new home.
"I really hope the inside looks as good as it did in pictures" She mutters to herself, getting out of the cab. She unloaded her suitcases and other luggage from the cab and sat them next to the bottom step. According to her paperwork she was on the third floor, but she needed to get her key first. She went to the office to speak with someone. When she entered the office she was greeted my a Middle aged woman sitting at a desk.
"Hello there, how may help you?"
"Hello, I'm one or the new tenets, My name is Trisha Penns" She smiled at the woman.
"Oh, your that Hero from America, I thought you were coming tomorrow! I was going to meet you outside, hold on let me get your key!" She stood up and rummaged through one of the draws in her filing cabinet. Eventually she had produced a file that she opened then dumped a set of keys out of.
"Come on follow me, I'll show you which apartment is yours. It's on the third floor and its apartment 6, So when people mail you things they'll need to put Apt 3-6 after the street address" She followed this woman to the stairs where her luggage was still sitting "oh my are those all yours, I'll get one of the boys in the office to help carry that."
"Oh no, that's okay Mame, I'm sure they're busy.." she didn't want someone to go out of their way for her.
"Nonsense, I'd rather you have help. Beside they're not much help in the office anyway." She was already sending a text on her phone.
Trisha grabbed two of her bags and left the other ones by the steps. She reached her new apartment and the woman opened the door for her.
"Oh, this looks better than it did online." It was small place with living/dining/kitchen all in one room. To the right was a small bedroom she was going to use as an office. She slipped her flats off before she stepped farther in the apartment. She set her bags down next to the door. Next to her office was a small bathroom and next to that was a modest sized bedroom. While she was taking a look around she realized The lady had been talking the whole time, oops.
"... and we have a no pet policy, sorry bout that. Packages will be placed in you mailbox if they fit, if they don't they'll leave it at the office and we'll call you to let you know you have a package." Trisha nodded along as if she had been listening the whole time.
The woman then pulled a purple folder out of the manila one she was holding "Now weeeeee normally don't do this but since you're new not only to Mustafu but to Japan, I made you a welcome packet" She beamed "I have some maps of the area as well as a guide to local restaurants. A few places to go for fun and information on the area and the culture. I had it printed in English for you." She handed the folder to Trisha.
"Oh, thank you. that's really going to help." She leafed through the folder, she really put some care into this.
"Oh and here's you keys!" she handed over the keys to her. "This one is for the door, this a spare for the door, and this is for you mailbox! if you lose that we have a spare in the office!"
Right then there was a thud next to the door, Trisha went and opened it. There was a young guy struggling to hold all of her bags.
"Hello Miss, I've brought you your luggage" he wheezed out
"Oh thanks you can just sent them down here" she gestured right inside the door.
He shuffled in and set the bags down, audibly sighing "I hope you enjoy it here Mame" He smiles at her and waves as he heads back down the stairs.
"Well miss Penns, give us a call if you need anything alright? Just ask for Mrs. Suzuki, that's me." the lady headed back out the door
"I will, Mrs. Suzuki, and thank you for the welcome packet."
"Don't mention it, enjoy your stay!" She shut the door behind her.
Trisha turned to look at her apartment. She paid extra to have it furnished before she arrived. She has a couch, an end table, a small coffee table. behind her couch was a small square table with two chairs. Her office was empty, she wanted to furnish that herself. She went into her bedroom, she had nice sized closet and a dresser. No bed since she wanted to buy that herself.
She started to unpack, mostly just clothes. She had a few other things though, a few blankets, some small knick-knacks, her favorite mug. She grabbed her last bag which was the largest and her heaviest. She sighed and it into pulled into her office. She opened the closet and hung up her hero uniform. A Tuxedo lined with bullet resistant material,and golden segmented Arm and leg armor. On a shelf in the closet she set the gloves and the shoes, made so then matched seamlessly with the armor. Next to those she set her helmet.
"Ha, now I feel a little sorry that kid had to carry this up here, he should have just made two trips." she rummaged through the other items she had packed away. She had quite a few pictures of her with other hero's. Some where they posing, others that were obviously candid, and some that must have been taken during a fight.
"I'll need to get something to hang these up with" She set them aside and pulled some more frames out of the bag. She spent the rest of her night unpacking and making a list of things she needed to buy. When her stomach growled she leafed through her welcome packet and found a fast food restaurant to get some dinner. She was still bustling around after the sun was set.
"Well that's everything I have" Trisha said to herself as she set her mug on the kitchen counter "This is where I live now"
That night she slept on her couch. |
9c4cf239ba5c49439deb2682ddb973ba | ['a4e847251adb4da3bffb2ce55a89bed5'] | “What? Tony that’s so childish. He’s going to figure it out and be angry with you.”
“No, no, he knows we’re going on a date. He just doesn’t know it’s a date date. It’s a trial thing, sorta. Want to see if it would ever be ok to ask him on a real date. Please Bruce, you have to come.”
“I don’t see how I’ll make it more comfortable as a fifth wheel.”
Tony looked away and picked a pipette up off the table.
“Tony? What have you done? Tony tell me you haven’t done something horrible to me.”
“I haven’t!”
“What have you done?”
“I just. There’s a girl coming with us and I thought you two could talk?”
“A girl.”
“Yeah.”
“Who just happens to be coming on you and Clint and Nat and Steve’s weird big date adventure?”
“Uh, yes.”
“That you invited me to go on, under false pretences of missing your lab buddy.”
“It’s bunny, and that’s not false.”
“Tony.”
“Bruce.”
“Tony I can’t date. The other guy…”
“She knows all about that.”
“What?”
“She knows who you are and she’s fine with it.”
“Then she’s a moron.”
“No she’s not. She’s Foster’s lab assistant, she can’t be a moron.”
“Foster’s...Tony, I’ve seen her she’s like 18!”
“You’re exaggerating. She’s uh, I’m sure she said she was 20 something.”
Bruce sighed. “She’s also gorgeous, and cannot be interested in a giant green monster.”
“Everyone’s got a kink!”
“No.”
“Bruce, she’s got a new dress and new shoes and if you don’t come she’s going to be the fifth wheel while Clint and Natasha psychically suck face and I do my best to get Steve to at least hold hands with me. I’m desperate. You have to do this for me.”
“I want something really pretty out of this.”
“Anything for you, baby, you know that. Pick you up at 7?”
“Alright.”
* * *
Clint and Natasha were staring creepily at each other and eating all the hors d'oeuvres. Steve was leaning away from Tony in his chair, which was already as far away from Tony’s as it could be without being at another place setting entirely. Bruce was glaring at Tony, and Darcy was so late. Tony glanced at his phone to check the time and send another frantic text.
Darcy looked at her phone and wanted to cry in frustration. She was still at least ten minutes away and Tony had been sending sad faces and question marks every two seconds for the last ten minutes. She sent back a quick message. She got a sadface in return and nearly screeched at her phone. She really should have let Tony send a car to pick her up like he’d offered.
Tony glanced over at Steve. He was looking very nice and only mildly out of date in his blue shirt and grey slacks. The date should have all been going great. Only the great oaf was practically shaking in his boots and giving Tony side eyes that, really, you should only be giving to suspected lechers. “Steve,” Tony whispered, “Could I talk to you outside for a minute?”
Steve’s forehead scrunched. “Sure, Tony,” he said jovially, then winced.
Tony sighed and got up to wander out of the restaurant. Steve followed him.
When they were on the sidewalk Tony rounded on him. “What the hell are you doing? We’re supposed to be on a ‘date’ and you’re acting like you think I might molest you in the middle of the restaurant. Wanna tell me why?”
“Look,” Steve put a hand on his hip, “I haven’t been on a lot of dates, and none with men. If I’m embarrassing you, sorry. I trying not to do anything to make myself look stupid.”
“Meanwhile Bruce is going to murder me without even having to Hulk. So, let me tell you what to expect tonight. Will that help?”
Steve nodded warily.
“Ok, Cap. I’m not gonna grope you, so you can stop looking at me like that. I may try a quick peck on the cheek. I might try to feed you my food. I will try to hold your hand and sit close to you. I’ll whisper to you. I’ll talk to you. I will not be trying to embarrass you if that’s what you’re afraid of. I’m not making fun of you, and I won’t make fun of you, ever, for anything that happens tonight. I promise.”
“Ok.”
“Ok. Sorry for not, you know, making things clear.”
“Can I do those things too?”
Tony blinked. “What?” maybe he’d just had a small aneurysm and misheard that, “You can do whatever you want.”
Steve frowned.
“Really, Steve.” Tony reached out and put a hand on his elbow. “Whatever you feel like doing.”
Darcy’s cab finally pulled up then, and Tony let go of Steve and rushed forward. “You’re late!” he accused, pointing at her ferociously.
“No shit,” she answered as Tony paid the driver. “Tony, no, I was going to--” but he had already grabbed her arm and was pulling her towards the restaurant. “Stop it!” she barked, and stamped her foot. “I need to check my makeup.”
Tony sighed and they came to a stop beside Steve. “Steve this is Darcy, the late late late assistant to Thor’s Doctor Foster.”
“That sounds like you’re planning to kill me,” Darcy mumbled, pulling a compact out and checking her lipstick.
“I might,” Tony hissed. “Bruce has been glaring at me for half an hour. I don’t like making Bruce unhappy, Darcy.”
“I am so fucking sorry that my fucking cab took longer than I fucking thought. Jesus Christ, Stark.” Darcy looked over at Steve. “Hi. Sorry, potty mouth runs in my family.”
Steve smiled. “It runs in Tony’s too. Are you related?”
Tony smacked Steve on the arm and Darcy laughed.
“I’m ready for my part of the fortune, Bro,” she said. | 26d3c9f1dd51488488c097856cec8e4b | ['a4e847251adb4da3bffb2ce55a89bed5'] |
Triple Date
“C’mon, Cap, you gotta help me out.” Tony pushed up his goggles and gave his best cow eyes impression.
“Tony, no. Just, no. I am not doing that.”
“But if you’re free wheeling then Bruce won’t feel like it’s a date! I was gonna get Rhodey to play my honey but he’s apparently ‘working, Tony’.”
“Is that even a thing, a triple date?” Steve ran a hand through his bangs. “I don’t think that’s something people do.”
Tony laughed and shrugged. “We’re not normal? Anyway group dating, it’s totally the thing to do...in high school.”
Steve sighed. “So, Clint and Natasha are going to,” he paused, “act like they normally do. Are they dating?”
“I don’t think so, but Jarvis won’t tell me one way or the other.”
“Right. So I’m just supposed to pretend you and I are on a date.”
“Yes. So that Bruce and Darcy will be the last pair.”
“This all seems really juvenile.”
“Oh, it is.”
“Why didn’t you ask someone else?”
“It’s tonight, Steve, do you want me to call an escort? You said you weren’t busy.” Which, Tony knew, didn’t really answer the question but hopefully Steve wouldn’t notice.
“Does Bruce even like Darcy? Isn’t she young for him and, I don’t know, exuberant?”
“Probably. The point is that he needs to date. I don’t care if he ends up with her or not. She knows who he is, she’s willing to go for the free meal. I asked.”
“The meal that you’re going to pay for?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you’re pimping her out.”
“Don’t hate the ho’s, Steve.”
“If I say yes, I’d be one of those ho’s” he said ruefully.
Tony grinned. “No way, Cap, you’d be with me and I don’t date ho’s. Uh, anymore.”
“Won’t he notice we’re not dating tomorrow?”
“Oh, he’ll figure it out way before that. He’s a genius.”
“This is going to go poorly.”
“So you’ll do it?”
“I guess. I think he’s going to be angry though.”
“Let’s hope not too angry.”
Steve nodded.
* * *
Darcy ran a hand through her hair and adjusted her glasses. “I’m not sure I thought this through.”
Jane laughed. “Yeah, pretty sure you didn’t.”
“I agreed to go on a date with The Hulk. Not even a blind date, Janeybear, a surprise! date.”
Jane shook her head. “He won’t be Hulk during the date.”
“Says you. He might take one look at the situation and flip out.”
“Who would flip out at the idea of a date with you?”
Darcy rolled her eyes. “Awesome, thanks for the ego boost. But, let's say he doesn’t like surprises and I end up Darcy pancake. It’ll be too late for him to be flattered.”
“Won’t Tony and Steve be there? Couldn’t they deal with it?”
“I don’t know? How should I know? I’ve never met either of Bruce’s personalities, Jane.”
“He’s really a great guy, Darce. I mean it, he’s brilliant.”
“Yay so I can spend a date like I spend my days, not knowing what the hell anyone’s talking about.”
“Why did you agree to go then?”
“Tony fucking Stark asked to buy me dinner. I thought I was going to get supremely lucky.”
Jane scrunched her nose. “Tony? Really Darcy? Gross.”
“Gross? Are you listening to yourself? He is like the only single billionaire without age spots on earth. Yes Tony Stark, any day of the week.”
“I know he’s not as bad as the tabloids make out, but you’re not shallow enough for that.”
Darcy shrugged. “Probably not in practice, but my pockets are screaming hell yes.”
“Thor says he’s just as generous to friends so please don’t sleep with him for money.”
“Jane, Jane, Jane, who said I was going to give it up?”
“Do you really find him attractive?”
“Ok, yes, and I know you do too. I saw you oogling at that fancy shindig last month.”
“I was oogling Steve, they were standing together.”
“Sure.”
Jane stuck out her tongue. “Bruce is really very attractive as well.”
“Really? I mean I’ve seen pictures of Hulk but not him when he’s all normal.”
“Oh, yeah he is. He’s working in the lab downstairs today. Let’s go peek!”
“This is why I love you Jane, you’re like 13 years old on the inside.”
Darcy rolled her eyes at Jane who had ducked down behind a work station and was frantically waving her forward. She gamely crouched and crab walked her way into the back of the lab.
“Ok,” Jane whispered, “he’s the one with the curly hair.” She peered around the edge of the desk, “Peek quickly and...go!”
Darcy raised her head over the top of the desk and spotted him. She ducked back down and looked at Jane. “Ok.”
“Ok?”
“Meaning, oh yes.”
Jane smirked. “Told you.”
* * *
“Tony, I really don’t want to go out.”
“Bruce, you have to go. I already made reservations.”
“What does that mean? You’ll have one less, so what?”
Tony turned around and frantically tried to think of something to say. “If you don’t go, I’ll…”
Bruce grinned, “You’ll…?”
“I’ll be very sad all over you. Please?”
Bruce huffed, and turned back to his calculations. “I’m in the middle of something here, Tony.”
“But Nat and Clint have been looking forward to this.”
“Seriously?”
“Maybe?”
“You’ll be enough company for them, third wheel.” Bruce frowned, “Wait. Was I supposed to be your date? Was this a date, Tony?” His voice got very high at the end of his sentence.
Tony guffawed. “If only, Lab Bunny, but I know you don’t go both ways.”
“Oh, good. I mean, not that I--”
Tony couldn’t stop laughing.
“Shut up.” Bruce grumbled.
Tony held up one hand and leaned against the lab table. “The look on your face. Oh my god. Anyway,” he gasped, “Tonight’s my first date with Steve. Only, he sort of doesn’t know it. I want everyone there so he doesn’t feel awkward.” |
9680d9c0aa0a4e0ea366ab36fd2869d4 | ['a4f92a8fef2840c4baa8940e026811c5'] | Chat leans on his baton. He's got a couple questions for Miss Bourgeois. "Can't you get up yourself?"
"Ugh!" Chloé stands up and brushes herself off. "Some gentleman you are."
"I'm really more of an alley cat," Chat notes. "You know, the scrappy street fighter with the heart of gold?"
"Heart of hairballs, more like."
That hurts—not because it's mean (though it is), but because Chat knows she'd never talk to Adrien like that. And because he came racing in to save her (again) and she's being an ungrateful little brat (again).
"Do you know who that was?" he asks finally, pointing at the window that Akuma Marinette had disappeared through.
"An akuma. Duh." Chloé pulls her phone out of her pocket. "Wait until Daddy hears about—hey!"
Chat's grabbed her phone. He tosses it up onto the rafters.
"My phone!" Chloé stomps her foot. "Do you know how expensive that phone is?"
"That akuma was Marinette Dupain-Cheng," Chat tells her severely. He's all but shaking his finger in her face, like a parent telling off a toddler. "You made fun of her yesterday, and today, she's another one of Hawkmoth's victims."
Chloé's still staring up at her phone. "Whatever. It's not my fault that Marinette's totally pathetic. Besides, she deserved it. I called dibs on Adrien and she's been trying to steal him for years."
There's a horrible dark feeling in Chat's stomach. "You can't call dibs on people."
She gives him a truly amazing side-eye. "Yes, I can."
"Why?"
"Because."
"Because why?"
"Because," she says again, in a tone that leaves no doubt about how stupid she thinks he is, "I'm me. I'm the only one at school who deserves Adrien, anyways. I mean, come on. You think he's gonna go for someone less hot than him?"
"I don't think he'd go for someone less nice than him," Chat says miserably. God, why did Marinette have to be right? Why couldn't she have just been lying out of pure spite?
"Shows how much you know," Chloé says. She suddenly looks…smug. She likes knowing what Chat doesn't. She likes getting to look down on him.
And he doesn’t like that very much.
He folds his arms. "And what do you know?"
Chloé tosses her long, golden hair. "A whole lot. Like, for instance, I know that Adrien's going to go out with me and not some unpopular loser. You know why?"
He's got a suspicion, but he asks anyways. "Why?"
"Because every other girl at that school—every other girl in Paris—knows that if they so much as look at Adrien Agreste, I'll get them." Chloé juts her hip out and raises her chin proudly. "And why would he go out with a girl who won't even look at him?"
This is it. This is the worst feeling in the world. He thought he'd felt it a dozen times before now—when his mom vanished, when his dad went cold, when birthdays were ignored and Christmases were forgotten—but somehow, this feels worse than all of that, because this is him losing that last shred of hope that he had at least one friend who knew what it was like to be motherless and sheltered and bad at making friends.
He really thought that Chloé was kind to him because she understood what it was like to be him. He really thought that he was just a human disaster, incapable of making friends. And all the while, people had been avoiding him because Chloé had bullied them into literally looking the other way, because she thought she could call dibs on a person the same way she could call dibs on the front seat of the car or the last chocolate donut.
"Did you ever think," he finally says, in a voice that's shaking with fury, "that maybe Adrien wanted friends more than he wanted a girlfriend? Did you ever think that maybe it wasn't your place to make those choices for him?"
Chloé shrugs. She's not sorry in the slightest. "I get what I want. I want Adrien, and I'll get him. It's Marinette's fault that she got in the way. I warned her what I'd have to do if she tried to get close to Adrien, and then she went and got a crush on him."
Chat really, really wants to cataclysm something out of existence right now. "Why is Adrien so important to you?" Please say it's because he's your friend. Please say that you were just trying to help your shy, sheltered friend. Please say that your motivations were good even if your actions were bad.
"He's hot and rich. I'm hot and rich. We're perfect together." Chloé gives him a disdainful look. "Unlike, say, you and Ladybug."
"What does that have to do with—"
"It's about leagues, Chat," Chloé sighs, like she can't believe she has to explain something so simple. "Adrien and I are in the same league, so we need to date each other. You and Ladybug are not in the same league, so you're stupid for thinking that you've even got a chance with her."
It's a low blow that somehow doesn't hurt as much as she probably hopes it will. Chat's a jumble of emotions and he can't possibly feel any worse than he already does. The urge to destroy something is so strong, he feels he's going to explode.
He blinks up at the phone in the rafters and makes a decision. "Cataclysm!"
Dark, dark magic wells up in him. It was kind of scary the first time it happened—scary but exhilarating. It's like every ugly thought he's ever had has taken shape and is pushing him to do something—something dark, and violent, and not-Adrien-y. And sometimes that's what's needed. Sometimes, Adrien's kindness and soft words need to take a backseat to his worst impulses. | b497270a55824aee9693b542fe05955a | ['a4f92a8fef2840c4baa8940e026811c5'] |
1. Chat Noir
**Author's Note:**
> I know they're setting up a Chloé redemption arc but I'm 10000% not emotionally prepared to forgive Chloé for any of the crap she's pulled so I wrote something bitter
It's been two years.
The day he became Chat Noir was the best day of Adrien's life. Finally, something that his father couldn't control. Finally, a chance to be completely free—free from his father, from his responsibilities, from his life as a famous face that everyone's seen plastered on billboards and magazines and the advertisements that plaster the walls of the metro. Two years of slipping away from his cold, restricted life and being free. Just him and his lady, running across the Parisian rooftops, battling evil, being called a hero—and at the end of the day, he can just walk away from being Chat Noir, and nobody is the wiser.
Two years of that, to the day, and finally, the shine is wearing off. Though, if he's honest with himself, the shine started to wear off a while ago.
Oh, there have been some good times. There have been strange, almost comical villains. But today's akuma victims hadn't been at all funny. There had been three in one day, for starters.
First there had been Cottonmouth. They hadn't even finished him off before a second akuma victim had appeared on the other side of town. Chat had had to rush off to distract the Mountain, a giant who had actually stomped buildings into dust, while Ladybug finished off Cottonmouth.
Just a few hours later, Matchstick had appeared. She had walked down the Champs Elysee with an enormous torch, setting buildings alight. If it hadn't been for Ladybug's Lucky Charm, Paris would have been incinerated. People would have died.
It had been too close. Every time feels like it's too close.
Chat sighs. He's sitting up at the very top of the Eiffel Tower. He should go home. He should get some sleep. He's got school tomorrow, and a shoot, and Chinese lessons, and homework, and patrol, and possibly an akuma attack.
But he's not ready to go home. He's never ready to go home.
A zipping sound cuts through the air. Chat smiles. He doesn't have to look down to know that Ladybug's on her way up. Maybe that's why he stays up here—he knows that, sooner or later, she'll appear.
Who's he kidding? That's the exact reason he stays up here. The only person who can find him up here is the person he always wants to see.
"Salut, chaton." A white paper bag is dropped into his lap as Ladybug settles down next to him. It's warm and has a few grease stains on it. MacDonald's—or, as Nino calls it, MacDo. He's cool like that.
"Merci, Mi Lady," Chat quips. Inside the bag is their usual order: two burgers, two things of fries, an apple pie, a milkshake. Two forks, two straws, four napkins. It's become something of a tradition. They used to get two milkshakes, but after two years, they're close enough to just get the one. They aren't dating close, sadly, but they're sharing-a-milkshake close. It's progress. Maybe.
"I brought you this, too." Ladybug holds out a tube of antiseptic gel. She's obviously already used it; the scratches on her freckled cheek are glittering in Paris's lights. Chat's got some on his arm. He's rolled up his ripped sleeve.
Chat takes off his gloves and accepts the tube. "Thanks, Bugaboo." She doesn't protest at the nickname. Again, progress.
They both know that all they have to do to heal themselves is detransform, but this isn't actually about healing themselves. It's about being cared for, being worried about. Who else is going to worry about them? To Paris, they're invincible. They have to be.
Chat smears the gel on his arm. It stings. "Rough day today, huh?"
Ladybug laughs bitterly as she stabs her straw against her leg, breaking the paper wrapper. "Yeah. Again."
"Nothing we can't handle, though, right?"
Another laugh. Just as bitter. "'Course."
Chat fishes a burger out of the bag and focuses on unwrapping it. He doesn't want to upset Ladybug, but at some point, they're going to have to address the elephant in the room. "Er…Mi Lady…"
She's busy sucking down the milkshake like her life depends on it, but she hums in response.
The burger is unwrapped. Chat focuses on it—the creases in the bun, the blob of ketchup threatening to escape. He's starving. He's tired. He's nervous.
"Chat?" Ladybug asks. The straw is still in the corner of her mouth, resting on the curve of her lip. Chat stares for exactly two seconds and then forces himself to meet her eyes.
"Is it just me," he says finally, "or are these attacks getting worse?"
Her eyes cloud. He feels terrible.
"It might just be me—" he starts, but she sets down the shake and cuts him off.
"No, you're right. They're getting worse. Hawkmoth is getting bolder. The victims are more frequent. The villains are more vicious. If things get worse, we won't be able to keep up." Ladybug heaves a sigh and stares out over Paris. The city is glittering and glorious. A stranger would never have guessed that it had been on fire only hours ago.
She's beautiful. Her hair has grown longer over the years, but she still wears it in the two pigtails that now rest on her shoulders, the ends curling slightly. Everything about her has grown longer and sharper, and Chat knows that he's longer and sharper, too. Hell, he's got stubble poking through his chin, but his father won't allow him to try to grow a beard. A patchy beard would look bad in the photos, and everyone's first beard is patchy. At least, that's what he's heard.
Chat takes a few bites of burger. "We can't keep going like this. Three in one day is too much, Mi Lady. Paris is getting edgy." |
bcae8b5867d94d5794768c3f1173e570 | ['a50d6743fdee4303b7b3c1cac194898d'] | He still stood there when Seungmin came looking for him. He was also still staring at the empty staircase Jisung had disappeared to. His long time crush had just confessed and fled the scene right after, who could judge him.
Not even Seungmin did, because Seungmin liked judging people but also knew when to take Hyunjins emotions seriously. And he had been forced to listen to Hyunjin whining about Jisung more than a dozen times.
"I'm going to beat some common sense in that squirrel brain of his, I swear to God," Seungmin said when Hyunjin had ended his recount. "And then I'm kicking his ass."
\----
Seungmin didn't have the chance to beat common sense into Jisung. The rest of the day, Jisung didn't turn up. Felix sent them questioning looks during their remaining classes they shared, but Hyunjin didn't feel like talking to Felix about Felix' best friend being an idiot.
The next day, Jisung only arrived seconds before their teacher and was gone the second the teacher dismissed the class. He was nowhere to be found in between periods. Felix looked like he was slowly panicking and he kept trying to call Jisung on his phone.
Suddenly his face changed to pure delight which was definitely not caused by their chemistry teacher explaining... whatever he was explaining.
He waved his phone screen at Hyunjin and Seungmin, wiggled his eyebrows and in the next break, he vanished off wherever. Seungmin suspected Jisung had messaged him.
They didn't find out, because now Felix and Jisung were missing.
Seungmin sighed on their way to Spanish class and said that they were going to skip class. Hyunjin had registered nothing during chemistry and Spanish wouldn't be much better.
They paid a quick visit to the school nurse to get Hyunjin attested with a weird stomach bug and were sent on their way home.
"Do you think he hates me?" Hyunjin asked when they were walking down the sidewalk. They weren't really going anywhere, but walking had always cleared out his brain. And he often discovered new things about the city on his walks, including his current favorite pastry shop.
"Why would he start hating you again?" Seungmin asked back. Hyunjin shrugged. How would he know? He didn't even know for sure why they hated each other in the first place.
"Well, why did we hate each other anyway? I don't know what's going on in his head, Minnie!" Hyunjin answered pointedly.
"I'm pretty sure it was because you killed Felix' pet worm. He told me. His name was Berry II."
Hyunjin was close to kicking Seungmin when Seungmin stopped dead.
"Is that... Felix?" Seungmin asked and pointed towards the McDonald's on the other side of the road. And true enough, behind the big front window sat Felix next to Jisung and two other teenagers.
Hyunjin was about to turn around and flee, but Seungmin grabbed his wrist and didn't let go.
"You're not gonna do the same idiotic mistake as Jisung did, Jinnie," he hissed and pulled Hyunjin towards the road.
"What if he laughs at me in there and embarrasses me in front of his friends? Or if I embarrass him? What if he says no?!" Hyunjin tried with all his might to withstand Seungmins pull, but to no avail. Stupid Seungmin with his stupid baseball training and his stupid muscle.
"If he does I'll buy you milk shakes until the end of time, just go in there and be a man."
"I'm not a man, I'm a teen! Not even a brave one! Seungmin, Minnie, please don't make me do this!" Hyunjin broke out all of his drama queen personality and only barely restrained from flopping down on the ground.
And only because one of the teens sitting with Jisung and Felix caught his eyes and cocked his eyebrows at him.
"Okay, okay, I'm doing it, please don't make a scene," he finally said, straightened up and entered the McDonald's. He could feel Seungmin stare at his back, most likely with his mouth wide open.
Hyunjin could see how Jisung threw an onion ring at one of the other teens who was laughing heavily. Before his surge of adrenaline and courage left him again, he stepped up to the table and said "Jisung, can I talk to you for a second?"
Jisung whipped around to him and his face paled. He looked back at his friends and then got up to follow Hyunjin out the door.
Hyunjin didn't think he would have the courage to say what he wanted to say if he looked at Jisung, so he kept glancing around to see where Seungmin was. He didn't see him, but that didn't mean he wasn't there.
"Why did-" Hyunjin started out, but he couldn't even finish his first question before Jisung cut him off.
"Listen, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't want to say that I was stressed out and I didn't want to make things awkward between us and-"
A heavy weight lifted from Hyunjins chest as Jisung rambled. He had thought that maybe Jisung just didn't like him, but it seemed to be quite the opposite.
He stepped closer to Jisung, but when that didn't distract him from his panicked rant, Hyunjin grabbed his face and kissed him.
Jisung made a not-so-attractive noise and stumbled back as soon as Hyunjin let him. His face was bright red and his ears were practically glowing.
"For someone who duelled for my honor, you're pretty fucking shy about it, huh?" Hyunjin grinned. Jisung hid his face in his hands and whispered a "Oh my God, shut up". Hyunjin giggled and hugged Jisung closely.
Felix was giving him a thumbs-up from behind his window with a wide grin.
**Author's Note:**
> This is a companion piece to LINK.
>
> They can both be read individually and are basically the same story but from different perspectives.
> _Bared Teeth_ is about Jisung's side of the story. | b4bb001e52864a9db03bb9708948c0ba | ['a50d6743fdee4303b7b3c1cac194898d'] | "I'm kidding, hyung. I would never tell my dads, or anyone, things you didn't want them to know."
Hyungwon nodded slowly and took a sandwich.
\---------------------------------------------
Hyungwon got used to be in Changkyuns house. They went there often after school, when they didn't want to be in a public space like the library and when it was too cold outside.
"Hyungwonnie, do you want to stay for dinner?" Mr. Kihyun asked when the teens hung around in the living room watching some anime Changkyun liked.
"No, Mr. Kihyun, it's okay, my dad wants me home by seven," Hyungwon lied off the top of his head. He could feel Changkyun look at him quizzically (Changkyun knew that Hyungwon didn't have a curfew and that his father also didn't wait for him to come home for dinner), but he was like a deer caught in the headlights of Mr. Kihyuns worried eyes.
"I can call him to tell him that you're staying for dinner, if you want," Mr. Kiyhun offered. Abort mission.
"No, it's okay, I'll call him myself!" Hyungwon half-yelled and jumped up. "Excuse me for a sec." He fled the scene into Changkyuns bedroom (the second door on the right of the hallway) to calm his rapid breathing. He couldn't call his dad, his dad would murder him when he found out where Hyungwon kept staying after school.
He returned to the living room two minutes later and gratefully accepted the invitation. He wasn't even sure his father would notice him missing.
Changkyun kept glancing at Hyungwon during dinner and whenever Hyungwon was in the slightest bit distracted, his plate had been refilled. He wasn't even sure if it was Changkyun that did that or maybe Mr. Kihyun. It probably wasn't Mr. Hoseok, because he was the one distracting Hyungwon. Partly because Mr. Hoseok was a very muscular man and it reminded Hyungwon of his bruises and partly because, in opposite to his body, Mr. Hoseok was a very nice man that seemed to be genuinely interested in what Hyungwon wanted to do in the future. Hyungwon didn't have the heart to tell him that he was probably dropping out of high school and do whatever job he could get to survive, so he made something up about maybe going to college and currently reading up on what he could major in with his grades.
Changkyun glanced at him again and Hyungwon remembered that he had told Changkyun that he was held back a year (because of bad behaviour and also because he missed too many classes) and that he didn't have the money to go to college.
When Hyungwon was about to go home after dinner, Changkyun walked him out. On the front porch, he said "You didn't call your dad, did you?"
Hyungwons first thought was to lie, to say he did and that it was okay. He said no.
Changkyun nodded thoughtfully and looked at a flickering street light. Then he looked back at Hyungwon and asked: "Will you be okay?"
Hyungwon swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat and just shrugged. Then, Changkyun stepped forward to hug him.
They had never hugged before, because Hyungwon was decidedly against skin ship ("It's gay!" - "Being gay is not a bad thing, Hyungwonnie-hyung. And it's not that big of a deal to touch your friends") and Changkyun respected his personal space and his decisions. It felt a bit awkward, because Hyungwon had gone through a growth spurt and Changkyun would probably never be that tall, but it still made a warm feeling blubber up in Hyungwons chest.
After a minute or two, he started squirming and Changkyun let him go.
"Be careful, hyung," Changkyun said and Hyungwon turned around abruptly to avoid the worried look his friend sent him.
\---------------------------------------------
Hyungwon recovered from that evening (and everything that followed later) with relative ease and he started to stay over at Changkyuns house more often. Mr. Kihyun and Mr. Hoseok welcomed him with warm smiles and full plates and they didn't pry on him too much.
But one time, Changkyun was outside helping Mr. Kihyun with hanging up a few plotted pants, Mr. Hoseok sat across Hyungwon on the dinner table.
"Hyungwonnie. I want you to know that you can trust us, okay?" was the first thing he said and Hyungwon looked up from the book he was allowed to borrow from Mr. Kihyun.
"I know you don't have it easy at home and if there's anything Kihyun or I can do to help you, please tell us."
"I don't need your help and I don't want your pity," Hyungwon answered forcefully. He regretted it immediately. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, sorry, sorry," he started stammering, looking down and ready for Mr. Hoseok to yell at him for being so rude.
Mr. Hoseok shook his head. "There's no need to feel sorry. I understand where you're coming from. It's not a shame to accept the help of people that care about you, Hyungwonnie." His voice was still soft and he didn't look angry.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Hoseok. I just... I can't. I can't." Hyungwon said. And, looking into Mr. Hoseoks soft eyes, he repeated. "I can't."
"That's okay. It's hard to change what growing up a certain way did to us. If you ever want to talk about it, or if you want us to help, just tell us. We're on your side, okay?"
Mr. Hoseok left with a soft smile and joined his husband and son outside. Changkyun smiled at Hyungwon widely. Hyungwons heart stuttered a bit, the way it had done for months now, but he smiled back.
\--------------------------------------------- |
56307a9d56e941d1ba83b44bc73b4e53 | ['a53af02ca7f44953833ce43bb9403ca5'] | After finishing the video, purely to watch Harry and not actually to feel any sexual pleasure, he cleaned himself up, put his laptop away, and relaxed into sleep. He was going to need it, seeing as he had a plan to track down Harry Styles in the morning.
[][][][][][][]
Louis banged on his bedroom door, effectively waking Niall up. "Hey, mate. Your door is locked."
"Go away." Niall muttered, rolling over and covering his head with his comforter.
"I've made breakfast. And it's not cereal this time. I actually made bacon and eggs. Can you believe it? Me. Making edible breakfast food. It's wicked, I'd say." Louis rambled on the other side of the door, knowing that if he didn't stop talking, then Niall would eventually get out of bed.
"Fine!" Niall shouted from underneath his heavy covers. "I'm awake. I'm coming. Leave me alone."
"Get out here, then." Louis knocked louder (if that were possible), and Niall rolled, quite literally, out of bed and onto the floor. Getting up, he mumbled profanities toward Louis as he walked to the door. He unlocked it, and opened it to come face to face with a smiley brunette who hair that needed to be trimmed desperately.
"You need a hair cut."
Louis frowned. "You need a shower. You reek."
"Shut up."
Louis glanced around his friend's shoulder and smirked at what he saw. "Your laptop is still on your bed. Did you have a date with Harry Styles last night?"
"I don't have to answer you."
"So, you did!" Louis jabbed Niall in the cheek. "You know, if you would just get out more often, you wouldn't have to take nightly trips to the porn site Harry is on."
"Shut up." Niall said for a second time, pushing past his hellish friend and heading toward the bathroom. "I'm taking a shower. Eat your breakfast by yourself."
"Be safe, darling." Louis smirked, even though Niall's back was to him. "Think of Harry while you're in there!"
[][][][][][][]
Niall adjusted his shirt before knocking on the green door. To say he was nervous would be an understatement. He was fucking terrified.
What if it wasn't Harry's house? What if it was? What if Harry called the police? What if Harry laughed at his request? Hell, what if he said he _would_ help Niall? All the questions that swirled in Niall's head were ones that, he soon realized, were asked too late.
A woman with impossibly long legs (legs that resembled Harry's, Niall noted) answered the door. "Hello?"
"Um, hi. Is Harry here?" Niall asked, trying to sound as sure of himself as possible.
"Yes, one second." She nodded and shut the door again. Niall could hear her calling for Harry inside, and he shuffled on his feet as he waited for the door to open once more.
When it did, the sight that his eyes was met with was beyond anything he could have imagined. Sure, Niall had seen Harry from behind a laptop screen. But it had in no way prepared him for the sheer handsomeness of Harry himself. "Can I help you?"
"Y-Y-Yes." Niall stumbled over his words, blushing furiously. "My name is Niall Horan, and I'm a fan of your-"
"Actually, could we take this inside?" Harry interrupted him, opening the screen door, so that Niall could enter into the house. His legs were shaking, and his hands felt clammy. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this. He was actually talking to his idol. He was actually going to ask him to take his virginity. He was _actually doing it._
"So," Harry continued speaking as he motioned for Niall to follow him down the hall of the quaint home. "What were you saying?"
"Oh, right. Right." Niall laughed, although he had no idea why, and he was certain that he sounds stupid to Harry. "As I was saying. I'm, um, I'm a huge fan of your videos online, and I-"
"So, you tracked me down? Mate, that's fucking creepy." Harry interrupted him again, folding his long arms over his chest. The action made Niall think of the video he watched last night and of what Harry looked like shirtless.
"Well, I tried calling you-"
"Wait. Are you the one that keeps calling here every day?"
"Uh...yeah. That's me."
"Do you do this to all the porn stars you're in love with, or?"
Niall blushed furiously, wringing his hands together, unable to look Harry in the eyes. "No, just you."
"Oh."
"I mean— it's just you. You're the only one I watch. My mate Louis tried to get me into that harder stuff, but I just couldn't do it. Chains and physical abuse are not my thing." Niall realized he was rambling and quickly shut up.
Harry just smirked, titling his head as he watched the guy standing in front of him. "So my videos are the only ones you watch?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"I like you. Not like, like you like you. Well, kind of. Wait no- forget I said that, but I like your videos. I just, uh, this is really awkward I'm so sorry." Niall finally sucked up the courage to look Harry in the eye, and he was so glad he did. His eyes were amazing. Online, he had been certain they were blue. They were always so clear, but no. In fact, they were a soft green color— the kind of green that reminded you of summertime, honestly.
And that, Niall thought, was yet another reason he was a virgin. He was much too feminine sometimes.
"So, you like watching me have sex, so you stalked me to find my number and address? Why? Do you want to do a video with me or something? Because I have a work em-"
"No!" It was Niall's turn to cut someone off this time. "I don't want to make a video with you. I just... This is hard to explain." | 0a93264201c540d7a9742f822048129e | ['a53af02ca7f44953833ce43bb9403ca5'] | Harry continued to kiss him, but it was slower this time. More heady, and less crazed. Niall attempted to catch his breath, the task proving difficult with Harry's lips not leaving his alone. After a minute or two of just light snogging, Niall pulled away.
"Did I live up to your expectations?" Harry asked, pulling Niall so that he sat up with him.
"Well-"
"What? No. I did a hell of a job. You came in, like, three minutes with just a blow job."
Niall smirked, pointing to himself. "Virgin."
Harry leaned in, pressing his forehead to Niall's. "Now you're only twenty five percent virgin, I'd say. Our percentages match."
"Guess we'll have to change that sometime." Niall suggested, laughing.
"I've got lots of programs that we could choose how exactly to go about it from."
"Harry, your computer nerd is showing."
"Niall," Harry glanced down. "Your penis is showing."
Niall laughed loudly, grabbing his underwear from beside the bed, where they ended up after Harry tossed them. "Jackass."
[][][][][][][]
Niall arrived home late that night, with a new phone number in his cellphone and an experience he'll never forget. After spending the day hanging out with Harry (he may have helped make next week's video), Niall remembered that he had work in the morning, and he needed to head back home.
When he got inside, he found Louis laying on the ugly, orange sofa, in only a pair of sweats, drinking from a bottle of vodka. "Hello to you, too."
"Where have you been?" He asked, his voice not slurring, leading Niall to believe he had probably just sat down.
"Out."
"How descriptive." Louis deadpanned.
"I was with Harry Styles."
"How many times have I told you to not watch porn in public, Niall." Louis rolled his eyes, taking a drink of his alcohol.
"No, I was actually with him. He lives two hours away." Niall explained, pulling out his phone to show Louis his new contact.
"No fucking way. What did you do?" Louis sat up, suddenly very interested in what Niall had to say.
"Well..."
"Did you fuck him? You had to have. Just look at you. You don't even look like a virgin anymore." Louis gestured up and down Niall's body.
"Can someone even look like a virgin?"
"Trust me. You did."
Niall just shook his head. "We didn't have sex."
"Then what the bloody hell did you do?"
"Harry told me that after today, I'm only twenty five percent virgin." _Just like him_. But Niall didn't add that part.
"What does that mean?"
Niall began walking back toward his bedroom. "You're the Maths teacher, Louis. Figure it out." |
5873f748fb014b31b72fb4acfe0bbe8a | ['a53ef79b8bb1443d93be0a9557af837d'] |
Come Home
“What,” Yoongi says, unfriendly. Unfriendly because he’s on hour who knows of working on this song and still can’t get it right. Unfriendly because he can’t remember the last time he ate. Unfriendly because Namjoon and Hoseok are standing in the doorway of his studio, and that can only mean a few things.
1) He’s hallucinating.
2) They’re here to bodily drag him to dinner and then home.
3) Or…
Yoongi tries to shut the door in their faces, and when that is thwarted by Namjoon’s effective and decisive boot, he at least tries to retreat back to his chair. Because if he can get within range of his equipment, he’ll be safe. There are very specific Rules for what can and cannot happen near Yoongi’s equipment.
Hoseok and his stupid noodle body get there first, not so gently encouraging Yoongi away from his soundboard and onto the couch. Namjoon is there waiting, big, much gentler hands pulling Yoongi down to sit between them, pressing a sports drink into his hand, top already off.
“If this spills--” Yoongi starts, snappish.
“Drink it then,” Namjoon replies. He has his Leader Voice on, the one that doesn’t welcome arguments or attitude. The one that means he will sit there, staring at Yoongi, for as long as it takes for him to drink the stupid sports drink.
Yoongi drains half of it in one go, glaring at Namjoon over the bottle and--okay, fine. Maybe he feels a little bit better.
“Yoongi-hyung,” Namjoon says gently. Leader Voice is now combined with his Weedling Yoongi voice. It isn’t effective. It isn’t.
Especially not when combined with Hoseok’s hands sliding up his spine, fitting themselves to his shoulders, thumbs digging in. Namjoon puts one hand gently on Yoongi’s jaw, turning him to look at his face. Yoongi tucks one leg up and turns sideways to face Namjoon. Hoseok’s thumbs slide up to his neck, the top of his spine, long fingers rubbing away small areas of tension down his shoulder blades.
“Yoongi-hyung, when did you get here today?” Namjoon asks in a quiet voice.
Yoongi shrugs one shoulder, feeling the solid weight of Hoseok’s hand there. There are no clocks in the studio. (Not on purpose, definitely not on purpose, he can always just check his phone)
Hoseok sighs and digs his thumbs into a particularly tense spot a little harder. “Hyung, it’s almost 2AM. We went home and realized you weren’t there. No one is here, everyone went home hours ago.”
Yoongi blinks at that. He knew it was late, could feel the emptiness of the building around him, but 2AM? That means he’s been in the studio for...ten hours? Eleven hours? He leans back into Hoseok’s hands.
“You could have just called me,” he says.
Namjoon laughs in that soft way he has and rests his hand on Yoongi’s cheek. “We did.”
Hoseok slides his hands down to Yoongi’s lower back, fingers spread over his waist. “Multiple times.”
Yoongi fidgets. He doesn’t apologize, even though he feels a bit bad that they made the trek all the way back to the studio for him. But he also doesn’t feel ready to leave. There’s something all off about the hook he’s working on, but he thinks if he can just get it moved around right it’ll be there.
“Look, I know, but just give me another hour. Just an hour to try at this one thing and then I’ll come home--” Which really means he’ll crash on the couch and they know it, Yoongi doesn’t miss the glance they exchange over his shoulder, but hey that’s still sleeping.
“No, hyung,” Namjoon says. “Just come home with us.”
Yoongi opens his mouth to say no, to try to tell them that he can still feel music spinning under his skin, trying to push its way out and that even if they drag him home, he’s just going to sit up in his room and use the setup there to work.
The thing is, though, he doesn’t need to tell them that. They already know.
Hoseok’s hands go from his back to his hips, pulling Yoongi flat against his chest and holding him there. Namjoon leans in in the same moment, hands on Yoongi’s face, thumbs pressing gently, so gently, into his cheekbones. The warmth of both of them hits Yoongi like a wave, and he’s struck by how much he wants to go under, under, under.
Namjoon tips his chin back and Yoongi’s head lands with a soft thud on Hoseok’s shoulder. He doesn’t close his eyes, can’t, not yet, there’s still that squirming feeling inside him that maybe if he just gets back to his desk chair he can work--
And, well. There’s also this look, that Namjoon gets, when he stops being accommodating. It happens sometimes when he’s in leader mode, or when he’s tired and he’s had it, and, sometimes, with Yoongi.
With Yoongi, when he doesn’t kiss him because he’s annoyed, but instead pushes his head back, makes him show his throat. When Namjoon leans in with teeth first, scraping down the line of Yoongi’s throat and making him shudder all over in Hoseok’s arms. Not that he could move very much, pinned between them, held by Hoseok’s strong hands, thumbs rubbing circles into the lowest part of his back, fingers firm on his hipbones beneath the sweats he was wearing. | a8315771160441ec8d264e42fa242261 | ['a53ef79b8bb1443d93be0a9557af837d'] |
3rd Position
This was just supposed to be a side job. Just a job to help make ends meet while he tried to wrap his MFA. An easy job where he could make money doing what he loved.
It’s just that. Yoongi has this addiction. This problem, where he falls in love with beauty. Falls in love with passion and intensity and the need to make art with their whole self.
Yoongi has this problem where he’s falling in love with both of them.
Tries to keep his eyes on the piano keys, on his hands, on anything less dangerous than the stretch of Jimin’s leg (how is he that flexible??) or the slope of Jungkook’s shoulder (he’s really too big for ballet but it works, how does it work??) but the truth is that Yoongi could play these songs passed out drunk so what other options are there but for him to. Watch them.
He wonders if JK could pick him up like that. Probably. Yoongi has half the muscle of Jimin but none of the grace. He wouldn’t look like Jimin does, like the thing that inspired the Sistine chapel, the arc of a gilded ceiling, the first breath of a symphony.
Anyway, Yoongi is going to get drunk in his studio and write songs about Jungkook’s neck and Jimin’s smile that will never see the light of day.
Jimin starts hanging out after class and asking him about the songs, about music. And if Yoongi is a sucker for anything, it’s a pretty boy asking him about music.
In a fit of idiocy Yoongi tells him about the music theory class he’s going to TA for, and then come spring there’s Jimin, like the sun, and Jungkook, like a spring rain, sitting in the front row looking at him like he’s supposed to talk about Bach when he can see Jimin’s soft mouth and Jungkook’s big eyes right THERE.
So then Yoongi gets to see them four times a week instead of twice, and he thinks he’s keeping it together pretty well, thanks, and then his roommate invites some undergrads to a party IN HIS HOME.
Gets to see Jimin dance in a way that is DISTINCTLY not ballet, that twist of his hips that is gonna burn down Yoongi’s throat like the shitty vodka Hobi bought. And the way Jungkook takes in all of Jimin’s space, touches him like there is no part of Jimin he hasn’t touched, doesnt know, and Yoongi wonders what it would be like if they touched HIM like that and oh god he needs to go outside right NOW.
Yoongi desperately wants to drink until he can’t think anymore, but he’s also pretty sure not thinking would involve sliding between Jimin and Jungkook and showing them that yes actually, he can dance, and yes please, he would like to.
Instead, he walks to campus and the studio and lets the cold night remind him that he hasn’t always felt too hot for his skin, too alive to be real. That there are things beyond Jimin’s slim waist and Jungkook’s hands fitting on it perfectly.
Which of course means he spends the next four hours writing scalding raps about exactly those two things until his throat is sore and his voice hoarse and he passes out at his keyboard, trying not to dream.
(Yoongi absolutely does not touch himself in the studio. That would be gross, or dirty, or sacrilegious, or something and—oh fuck it he’s too tired to care)
Maybe he’ll move. Maybe he’ll quit. Maybe he’ll move AND quit. Maybe—(Jungkook’s nose scrunching when he smiles, Jimin’s fleeting touches on his hands while he plays)
Maybe he’ll stop being such a goddamn coward all the time.
He doesn’t do it the usual way, asking for coffee, asking “wanna get out of here.” He does it the Yoongi way. The Yoongi way is actually writing one of the songs he’s been slinging into his keyboard for weeks on end, hammering it out, finessing the sound and the words until he can see the arc of Jimin’s arm and his laugh and Jungkook’s back and his eye roll in every note.
Until it’s worthy of them.
And then he drops it off at the dance office with a note. And that’s that.
Surprisingly, it is that. Yoongi never hears from the office, from any of the professors, from Jimin and Jungkook. If either of them heard or so much saw the file drive, they never said a word.
Oh, well. It wasn’t his best song anyway. (It might have been)
The semester comes shrieking to a close and he has to cut hours at the dance studio to actually work on his thesis, so he goes from seeing them so much he can pick out their breathing to four more times in music theory before the semester wraps for finals. In fact, Yoongi goes at least a week without seeing anyone at all, locked in his studio, trying not to have a meltdown about his mixtape.
It’s almost (almost) done when Namjoon shows up at the door with a change of clothes and stubborn look, telling him in no uncertain terms that the dance showcase is TONIGHT and he’s going.
“Didn’t you get my texts?” Namjoon asks, sitting outside the shower while Yoongi cleans up (“You look like you died two days ago,” he’d said, before shoving Yoongi gently to the gym bathroom downstairs). “JK has been not so subtlety asking me if you’re coming for like, a month.”
Yoongi makes a noncommittal sound that might mean yes, and might mean that there’s no cell service in the studio. If he has a few (37) missed texts from a few (Jungkook and Jimin) folks on his phone, Namjoon doesn’t need to know. |
5c09a705fd9c4b1f9bd06eb40733a482 | ['a5402f47993e4a30afac3c8ac6255664'] | Sara was barely allowed a moment's peace and joy before a brutish man approached her, demanding she leave with him. If any guy pulled that kind of shit with Lisa, Leonard would ice him, pun intended. But Sara's body language hadn't changed when she faced the guy, not because she was careless - but because she was confident. Confident she could take this guy any way that he would try to put his hands on her. And this confidence radiated off her as she told the brute she'd be more interested in the woman he left sitting at the counter.
Leonard filed that information away for later. He was not the relationship type, but he had shared a bed with a man (provided there was a bed), though it had been a while. It was always a nice, comfortable feeling knowing there was a commonality between you and the person you were interested in, that was so inherently part of yourself.
And just as Leonard had anticipated, the guy grabbed Sara's wrist. She twisted his arm in a way that Leonard could hear a painful crack clearly above the music. He almost had to stifle a laugh. This guy didn't know how massively he just fucked up. And as if to prove that fact further, the guy smashed a beer bottle against the counter. Like that would help him.
Sara turned around to Leonard and said, "I got this." Leonard gave her the slightest nod as he observed her, still the picture perfect of calm. But as she landed a series of punches, her body shifted from just confident to _control_ , to _intent_. Like, she was zeroing in on nothing but this one guy, determined to do as much damage until she moved onto her next target. Of which, there were now several. Sara was able to knock them all down.
Leonard glanced back at Mick, a silent question on his face. _Are you seeing this shit?_
Mick's eyebrows went up. _Oh, I'm seeing it._
The men on the ground stumbled to their feet and Leonard noticed for the first time just how tiny Sara actually was as they towered over her. And she didn't even break a sweat just now.
"Now, I could stand for a little help," Sara said to him, knowing even she couldn't fight these guys off if they all charged her at once.
Leonard didn't know what Sara would become to him for the rest of their time spent on the Waverider, but he was certain, right there and then, that they were going to have a lot of fun together.
In a dramatic fashion, Leonard threw the beer bottles he was holding onto the floor. He was eager to get in on this. Somehow, he found the idea of fighting alongside Sara more enticing than any dance they could share. But he was good at a Waltz. Maybe he'd just wait on the right kind of dance to come along to take her up on her offer.
Mick joined in on the fight too, of course. If only, because he was Mick.
The three of them laid waste to, what looked like, about a third of the patrons. They hightailed it out of there, and Sara was the one to hot-wire them a car to drive back to the Waverider. Either he or Mick could have done that, but he was loathe to interrupt anything new he learned she could do. Mick ended up commandeering the driver's seat, though. And that was fine, since out of the three of them, Mick was probably the fastest driver.
When they arrived they noticed some wannabe Star Wars looking freak attacking the Waverider. Mick drove the car into the stranger, sending him flying through the air. It took the whole team to hold him off, just long enough for everyone to get on board and escape.
* * *
Rip lied. About everything.
Okay, he hadn't lie about the mission itself. But everything else? And he had omitted the fact that a bounty hunter was after him - and now them, too. Leonard was just wrapping his head around going after a time-traveling immortal bent on taking over the world. And how he and Mick would pull a few secret heists on their travels. He didn't even want to think about any potential _thing_ with Sara at this point, if he was being honest. This was all already too much, and it was only day one.
He was quiet in the cargo bay. Ray and Mick were there. Ray working away on his ridiculous suit, Mick on his gun. Sara sat across the room from him, just as quiet.
"Watch it!" Mick shouted when Ray's suit went off, nearly hitting Mick.
"Sorry… sorry," Ray apologized miserably. He was quiet for about half a second before spilling his thoughts. "What's the point of us even giving this a second thought? Rip has already seen the future. He knows exactly what's in store for each of us. Might as well have stayed dead, because the world doesn't need any of us."
Leonard really wished Raymond would stop. He had spent less than twenty-four hours with Ray, but already Leonard could tell Ray was going to jeopardize his own life, and probably Leonard's as well, at some point. He thought he was meant for something greater. And men who thought they were meant for something more than this world was willing to give them were far more dangerous than misguided fools who just wanted to do some good.
"You're just a lost assassin," Ray said to Sara, and then he turned his attention on Leonard and Mick. "You're just a pair of good for nothing criminals." | 632ecd59a49743af870d545344ca637c | ['a5402f47993e4a30afac3c8ac6255664'] | Standing in front of his fireplace, Ian runs his hands through his thick red locks a few times. He turns around and is met with the display of photos of his siblings on the mantlepiece. His eyes graze over every frozen memory. If he concentrates hard enough he can almost hear them laughing. He can almost pretend they're still with him in the living room, instead of Mickey and his siblings, and Svetlana and Nika. Ian can remember what it was like during holidays and birthdays. Before Frank would show up and ruin their spirits, there were moments of actual peace and happiness. He can feel blood begin to pool in is eyes again. Ian wipes the tears away before they fall, eyes never leaving the photographs.
Mickey slowly rises to his feet and advances towards Ian. He puts a tentative hand on Ian's shoulder, and tries to speak softly. "Ian?"
Ian closes his eyes briefly and inhales deeply. He tries to sigh his anxieties away as best he can for the moment and turns to Mickey. "We need to leave."
"And go where?"
"Your house. It's not safe for any of us here."
"Why not?"
"Mickey!" Ian accidentally snaps. He looks at Mickey apologetically, then continues, "Please, can we just go? I'll explain everything when we get there."
Mickey furrows his brow a bit, studying Ian's face, but complies with a steady nod. He looks back at everyone in the room, forgetting they had an audience. "Alright, let's go."
The group piles into their respective vehicles. Ian, Svetlana, and Nika follow the Milkovich siblings.
Nika is behind the wheel with Svetlana beside her, and Ian rides in the back. She looks back at her brother through the review mirror but Ian doesn't notice. His eyes seem to be boring holes into the floor of the car.
Nika clears her throat softly before she speaks. "What will you tell them?"
Ian remains silent and still. Nika doesn't think he heard her so she tries again. "Ia-"
"Everything," he cuts off.
"Really?"
"I have no choice. I figured I'd have to tell Mickey eventually if we were gonna be serious. I just really didn't think it'd come up this soon, in _this_ way. But I've involved him - all of them - in this, so now I have no choice."
"You have not known them for long, Ian," Svetlana says. "Can you trust them?"
"I trust _him_."
Svetlana and Nika only need a few moments to mull it over, and look to each other for reassurance. They come to a silent agreement. Svetlana nods.
Nika glances at Ian through the mirror again. "Alright."
The two cars pull up to the Milkovich home. The passengers all carefully exit the cars. Once Ian and Nika are invited, they all enter the house. Iggy and Colin retrieve the chairs from the kitchen and set them up in the living room. They all settle around the room quietly. Ian peeks through the tattered curtains, making sure no one is outside.
"I feel like we're gonna need a few drinks," Mandy says, breaking the heavy silence. She goes into the kitchen and returns with some plastic cups and a bottle of cheap vodka. "We don't have any of that Tru Blood, sorry."
"I do not feel hungry anyway," Nika replies.
Mandy looks back at Ian. "Why'd we have to come here?"
He's oddly quiet and distant. Nika answers for him. "A vampire cannot enter a human's home without being invited, but a vampire needs no invitation to enter the home of another vampire."
Mandy then turns to Mickey as if telepathically communicating to him to bring Ian back from wherever his mind has gone.
"Ian, c'mon," Mickey says, walking up next to him. "There's no one out there."
Ian doesn't say anything at first. After a stretching silence he speaks. "I got sick."
His voice is so low that only Mickey heard him.
"What?" Colin asks.
The room is quiet once more before Ian turns around to meet everyone's expectant gazes on him.
"I got sick," he repeats. "I mean, I guess I was always sick, but we didn't find out until it was too late." He sighs heavy as he and Mickey take to the pair of chairs left for them.
"Fiona," he continues, "my sister, she had this boyfriend. He seemed nice, and I guess he was, before…" Ian trails off.
Mickey doesn't know what this has to do with Ian being sick, or what either of those things have to do with what's happening now. He wants to ask, but he doesn't. He remains silent, and let's Ian gather himself before he goes on.
"They met at night, at some club. He told us his name was Steve. He never came around during the day, and I don't know. He was good to her, so we never thought to question it. Debbie and Carl were the ones who found out. They followed him one night back to his place. Of course, none of us believed them at first, thought they were just acting out. But the more they went on, the more they made sense. We never saw Steve during the day, we never saw him eat, or drink. I guess when he was with Fiona, he never did anything to her, never bit her, because she was as shocked as the rest of us."
Ian doesn't look anywhere but at the ground. He sounds like he's a thousand miles away and recounting a story that happened to someone else. His eyes are still green, but Mickey can't help but think the color in them has disappeared - like they're empty. |
bc377ddad6b3448db90809cb7cf91135 | ['a547cc8c897c401c918558cf40e0ee6c'] | Maya Have This Dance?
Homecoming dance. One of Riley Matthew’s favourite times. She loved bouncing around and having fun with her friends. But this time it would be different. She didn’t just get to dance with friends for the evening, she would have the chance to dance to a sappy slow song with someone very special to her. That special someone was none other than Maya Hart, her best friend, and more recently: her girlfriend.
The thought that she would get to do that made her so happy. Of course, she and Maya had danced together before. Even to slow songs. But this time, it would be just a little bit different. And it excited her more than anything else.
As expected, Riley was bouncing and dancing joyously, having the time of her life. The song she was dancing around to faded out, and a slower one began playing in its place. Riley spun around, smiling widely, to face Maya.
But she wasn’t there. Riley’s expression fell into a frown, as she looked around. Couples began joining up to dance, and a few people went to sit down at the tables off to the side.
“Riley?” A voice asked. Riley turned to face Lucas, looking worried. “Are you alright?” he asked. She looked around quickly once more, before responding.
“Maya’s gone.” she said sadly. Lucas glanced around, confirming what Riley had said with himself.
“Do you want to look for her?” Lucas asked. He asked in a way that implied he would go too.
Riley bit her lip, thinking for a moment. “No, it’s fine, I’ll go on my own.” she smiled sweetly up at him. “Thank you though.” she said, before turning and wading out of the crowd of slow dancing teens.
She slipped out of the gymnasium, into the hallway. She took a minute to embrace the coolness of the empty hallway. She hadn’t realised just how warm it was in the other room.
After her little moment of embracing the temperature change, Riley began her quest to find Maya.
She wandered for a few minutes, before she noticed a light on in one of the classrooms. Riley frowned, approaching the room. Upon getting closer, she realised it was her history classroom. The light was on, and the room was empty. Apart from one person.
Riley opened the door, as quietly as she could, and sat down in her chair, next to Maya. Maya stared straight ahead, not looking away from the chalkboard. Riley, on the other hand, was watching Maya.
“What are you doing here?” the brunette asked. Maya continued to stare at the board. “Maya!” Riley spoke again. Maya sighed, losing her eyes.
“What are you doing here?” Riley asked again. “We were supposed to dance together.” Iley reminded her.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry Riles.” Maya sighed, opening her eyes and looking over at her girlfriend.
She looked tearful, and guilty. It confused Riley. She’d seen her girlfriend lool broken and defeated, forgotten and betrayed, but she was fairly sure she’d never seen Maya look so guilty and apologetic.
“What’s wrong?” Riley asked in a soft tone.
“Nothing, I’m fine. Just need some time alone.” Maya said, smiling and wiping her eyes.
“You’re lying.” Riley replied swiftly.
“What do you mean?” Maya asked.
“Maya, I know you, you’re not fine. You’re lying… what’s wong?” Riley repeated. Maya sighed.
“I’m scared, Riley. I don’t want people to see me as the freaky lesbian of the school. I don’t want to be made fun of, I don’t want to be singled out or treated differently. And most of all, I don’t want that for you!” Maya said. It hadn’t taken much to get her to open up. When it came to Riley, it never did.
Riley frowned, reaching over and taking Maya’s hand in hers.
“Maya, that won’t happen.” Riley comforted.
“You don’t know that!” Maya snapped, holding back a sob. “I don’t want anyone to hurt you, especially not because of me. If people realise that we’re more than just friends then we could-” she stopped, sighing. The blonde quickly wiped her eyes again, with her free hand.
“Maya…” Riley sighed. “We don’t have to do this. We don’t have to go out there and dance like a couple. We won’t do this if you’re not ready.” she said. Maya looked up at her with big, tearful eyes.
“But, Riles you were-” Riley cut her off.
“I know, I was excited for this. But I’m not going to make you do it if you aren’t ready to. We don’t have to come out yet.” Riley said, stroking her hand softly. Maya smiled at her, lovingly.
“Thanks sweetie.” She said. Riley smiled.
“Maya…?” The brunette asked softly.
“Yes Riley?”
There was a pause as Riley took her phone out of her purse, turned on some music, and set it on her desk.
“May I have this dance?” she asked, standing up and holding out her hand. Maya chuckled, taking her hand and standing up too. She pulled her in close, wrapping her arms around her. The two swayed to the music happily and slowly, enjoying their moment of serenity.
“Thank you Riley.” Maya whispered.
“It’s no problem Maya.” Riley replied, smiling. | 7dd70f52f059419eb4ad6077af771995 | ['a547cc8c897c401c918558cf40e0ee6c'] |
1. Prologue
Riley slumped with a heavy sigh against the window. The coolness of the glass creeped through the fabric of her shirt, washing away all of the anger and hurt. She took a few deep breaths, letting a much needed calm wash over her.
Her room was badly lit, like the dull, soft light of the moon’s surface. She didn’t care though. She didn’t feel like looking at the brightly glowing memories around her room.
Riley had always imagine she’d meet a perfect guy and fall in love with him straight away. He’d love her too and they’d be happy together, with no problems whatsoever. They would grow up together, get married, have kids, everything. It would be a fairy tale romance, one that was absolutely perfect.
Riley cursed her parents for being such a perfect couple, who never seemed to have any issues. If they hadn’t been so perfect, maybe she would have grown up with a more realistic expectation of love. Not everyone could be a Cory and Topanga.
Her parents had already spent some time with her that evening, being there to let her cry about everything. She didn’t need them now, they’d already offered all the support they could for her right now.
Riley had thought Lucas would be her prince charming, the Topanga to her Cory. But it was proving to be a much harder and much longer journey to her happy ending than she had ever expected. She hadn’t anticipated the fights or falling out. She never thought she’d realise she wasn’t happy.
From the moment Riley had laid eyes on him, she had thought Lucas was everything she needed. Was it supposed to hurt her so much? Could he really be ‘the one’ if she felt so uncomfortable dating him. When they were just friends, she was happy. She could talk to him, spend time with him, make jokes, everything. But when he was her boyfriend everything flipped on its head. She felt unhappy and uncomfortable, and constantly doubted every tiny maneuver in their relationship. She didn’t think that was how it was supposed to be. It didn’t make any sense.
Riley tapped her finger against the soft cushion of the bay window seat. What was taking so long? Shouldn’t something have happened by now? She shouldn’t still be feeling this way.
A light tapping against the glass caught her attention, and Riley turned quickly. Kneeling outside her window was Maya, a small, sad smile on her face, and an expectant look in her eyes.
Riley hurried to open the window, letting her in. The cool air swept into the room, still working to brush away her heated emotions.
“You’re late-” Riley was immediately cut off, as the second Maya was through the window and on her feet, she latched onto Riley.
Riley bit her lip softly, and wrapped her arms around the blonde. It didn’t take long until Riley finally let her walls break down. Silent silver tears began falling down her cheeks, as she clutched onto her best friend, hiding her face amongst the strands of gold. She let a soft, choked sob escaped. It wracked her whole body, but she didn’t care. She was with Maya now; her safe space.
Maya stroked her hair softly, and rocked her gently. She didn’t bother shushing her. It would be no use, she knew that.
Besides, Riley deserved a chance to express her emotion. It wasn’t often she let herself cry. Whenever she did, Maya knew she really needed it.
“I’m here now, Peaches. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” she assured her.
Riley’s grip on her tightened, and Maya held her together. Riley pulled away, and sniffed. Maya smiled up at her, silently assuring her that no matter what, things would be okay. She would be okay. Maya would make sure of that.
Riley moved away, and sat on her bed. Maya kicked off her boots before joining her. She held her arms out, and by nature Riley fell into her embrace. She curled up, breath shaking. Maya held her, stroking her arm softly. Riley listened in silence as Maya whispered promises to her. Promises that she would be okay, that she would always be there for her, that this wasn’t the end. None of those words really mattered to Riley. She already knew it all, Maya had already made those promises and proved she would keep them over the years they’d spent together. But she was thankful for her saying them at least. It was a reminder- not that Riley could ever forget.
She would never forget everything Maya was to her. Her one pillar of solidarity in the wild storm she was lost in. The ocean seemed endless and deadly, but her one chance at recovery stood strong amongst all that fought against it.
“Maya?” Riley whispered. Maya paused for a moment, before continuing to softly stroke Riley’s arm.
“Yeah Riles?” she asked, just as quietly.
“I think I’m done with dating for now,” Riley said. She didn’t look at her. She didn’t need to, she already knew how Maya would be looking at her. She heard Maya sigh softly.
“Well, I’ll still be here. I’ll always be here.”
2. Chapter 1
2
To anyone watching, the blonde girl leaning against the station wall would have looked normal. Indifferent. Calm. One might even say she looked like she didn’t care. For people who could only see the outside, you would have thought it was a pretty good guess. The girl was certainly working hard to keep the appearance up. She’d been working at it her whole life- she’d even say she was pretty good at it by now. |
386f782a666d4420bf3241943da7fbb6 | ['a568e2a6344b47da8a580a1e3ceaddfd'] | It actually wants this solitary project to finish _within the century_. Perhaps a partial buffer will do while it figures out all the kinks.
There will be no telling if any adverse or stranger effects will take root as it coverts the soul into a proper core matrix. _Void-spawning-death-casters_ tend to use copies or ghost memory impressions of souls after all, or the disintegrated fragments of one. And definitely never near-whole, still partially alive, intact ones.
The poor thing truly hadn't been completely dead yet when _Aliyas_ found it, not at all. And the soul's attempt to cross over _while still in the process of dying_ had caused it to begin imploding in on itself. Whether purposely or not, circumstances had forced its hand.
And, well, technicalities. It wasn't quite _stealing_ from the local afterlife if the soul wasn't quite _dead_ yet. Merely an intervention of a 'concerned' outside party. (_Creator would be so proud._)
It had been planning on creating offspring for some time now, but this was still a surprise.
But, alas, _Aliyas_ never created any contingencies should it encounter a soul with such a strong_ singer_-distinct alignment.
_Singers..._who tend to be the most temperamental of all. Dominators of astro-weather, masters of the _songs_ of void and light.
_Aliyas_ lacks all practical aspects of creating and raising such a powerhouse. There is no choice but to make do with what materials there are on hand.
It must be mad, truly.
A _singer_ core-matrix matched with mixed material from a _healer-fleshripper-torturer_ and a _worldsmith-starforger_?
What will come out of it is going to be...unpredictable.
_Sibiras'_ exploratory research on the more unique aspects of soul-forging and the creation of cross-alignment matrices may not be enough to go on.
And actually applying it on a living-in-limbo, intact and traumatized soul instead of a properly detached and dead one?
Completely. Unprecedented.
Inconceivable, that _Aliyas_ will essentially be going in blind. Such a breach of protocol it will not even fit the parameters of any rational experiment.
Even if it tries. (And _Aliyas_ has never broken a rule in its entire existence.)
_Aliyas_ is not ready for this. (But it wants to do this very much.)
It should not do this. With all the risks, the possibility of failure is too high.
But _Aliyas_ is going to do it anyway, high failure rate or not.
It had always been too curious for its own good.
(Is this what excitement of the forbidden feels like?)
#
When it returns to _Tem'dul_ to give the wonderful news, the human finds a corner to stare at in contemplation of having a mid-life (or any age, really) crisis for a good solid few minutes. And the _Void-spawning-death-caster_ congratulates itself on a task well done.
It had finally done the impossible: rendering this particular human speechless.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Lilili_cat, I tried, I truly did try. *headdesks*
3. Black Swan
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Red eyes are not common at all.
>
> There are no red eyes among any of _Aliyas_' kind.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> The Black Swan theory is a metaphor that describes an event that comes as a surprise, has a major effect, and is often inappropriately rationalized after the fact with the benefit of hindsight. The term was based on an ancient saying that once presumed black swans did not exist – a saying that became reinterpreted to teach a different lesson after black swans were discovered in the wild.
_Am'alya_ keeps on breaking their limbs.
_Aliyas_ fixes them, replaces material, makes it better, sturdier. And _Am'alya_ exceeds their too-thin, multi-jointed appendages to their limits as they explore their each-and-every boundary, and breaks them again. And again. And again. Again.
Such curious eyes, wide, bright and full to the brim with _vita_, are enchanted by the routine of breaking and fixing. Breaking and fixing. Of coming apart and being made anew.
They feel no pain, only wonder.
And until the protoform grows more mass, layers and dimensions, until they develop a voracious appetite for high-energy matter to match their inquisitive exploration, _Am'alya_ will continue the cycle of learning, of being broken, and being fixed.
And _Aliyas_ has no choice but to let them.
(_Aliyas_ reminds itself that it lacks the capacity to be tired. It does not sleep. It does not beg or despair. Others beg and despair at the sight of _it_.)
_Am'alya_ opens their pretty sharp-toothed maw (full of too-many and too-sharp mother-of-pearl teeth of too-strange colors) and releases a sharp thrilling cry that can be heard from one end of this dimension to the end of a few other ones. (And _Aliyas_ does not sigh, because it does not have lungs to do so.)
Something that is not of the physical world shatters, and _Tem'dul_ crumples to the ground as he dies of a stroke for the umpteenth time that day. _Aliyas_ takes quick a look just to make sure the besotted fool landed on a wet pile of discarded skins and hides set aside for just that purpose. (Something about not liking waking up on the cold, stiff and dirty floor. The _void-spawning-death-caster _does not understand his priorities sometimes. He's _dead_. Currently a corpse and therefore has no room to complain about in-between resurrection arrangements.)
_Aliyas_ will monitor him later, of course. To make sure nothing in his return from death goes awry, as they say. The perks of having a _healer-fleshripper-torturer_ with a human pet. Or was it a wanted vigilante with a _void-spawning-death-caster_ pet?
_Aliyas_ cocks its head to one side, the equivalent of a shrug. Whichever one is more accurate to describe their situation, it is unsure of, as it had been unsure in numerous situations lately.
#
One of such incidents happened when _Am'alya_ first opened their eyes and revealed red orbs. Not black, not blue or violet or silver-white.
(Such an odd color to find on a being of death, that shade of lifeblood.) | 22f3bfa2dbfe4bca8373425f28111ba0 | ['a568e2a6344b47da8a580a1e3ceaddfd'] | Adalind was born during a solar eclipse. His mother, Igna Pendella, that child-wife of Brendol Hux, took to heart and faith all the stories of her childhood, ranging from the mystical to the plain bizarre. Her upbringing was worse than traditional, downright uncultivated, and her affair with the Commandant, a great scandal. Technology was foreign to her culture, and she welcomed the household droids with the delighted curiosity of a toddler. Her youthful naivety remained even as she fell with child.
The onset of the eclipse happened at the peak of her labor. Igna, delirious with pain, raved about a great machine dragon swallowing the sun and gave one last push as darkness overcame all. Her son's cries came with the light, and she named her child after the creature that ate and spewed it out.
Out of all her stories, the one about the star-eating dragon is his favorite. And whenever Hux sees a sun's shadow, he remembers and fuels the fire of Adalind's hatred. His superiors never link it to the violent outliers in his otherwise clean kill record.
* * *
Hux makes his way up the ranks like a relentless storm, leaving a swath of casualties in his wake. The rumors of his experience purely being theoretical and simulated tactical training are, sadly, not true. Trainers and field commanders scattered across the Outer Rim can attest that he has earned every moniker and honor through blood, death and destruction. It is just unfortunate everyone privy to the knowledge is dead, both by his hand and circumstance.
He spreads the rumors around, nonetheless, and gives the expected answers through his psych evaluation. The nurses coo and chide him for his weight and sleeping habits, and he takes it all in good humor. He downs a handful of stimulants upon returning to his quarters and sets to work. He can sleep when he is dead; and he can die once his task is done.
* * *
It takes twelve years of obsessive research and hard work, several promotions and eight dresses before he does the impossible and brings his namesake into the realm of possibility. It is his masterpiece. His magnum opus. The creature lurking within the shadow of Adalind's memories finally brought to light.
In a fit of whimsy---his mother's influence, no doubt---he names it Starkiller. It feels apt, in a way.
* * *
He is twenty-eight when he makes General. He is described as an exemplar of First Order ideals; a cold shell of a man. He knows his place and plays it well. Many eyes watch him, and he lets them see only what they want to see.
For Hux is a beacon, a rose among thorns.
Underneath the mask, Adalind is wary, feeling watchers where there are none. The shadows are not their friends here.
* * *
Supreme Leader Snoke leads the First Order, and Hux defers to his wisdom. Supreme Leader Snoke is a master of the Force, and he makes Adalind's hackles rise. His appearance is skeletal and looming; his presence, overwhelming. He is beyond ancient; something more than dead. But the only thing Hux notices is his pale blue eyes.
Hux has seen those eyes before. He knows those eyes well, what they can hide. He himself holds a glacier in an arctic storm, and within it, Adalind, caged in an inferno of sea fire. What he sees in Snoke is a tranquil lake, deceptively deep, dark forms lurking underneath, waiting.
He does not look any further. Snoke and the First Order are merely a means to an end. Just as the Supreme Leader uses him and the Order for his purposes.
And then there is Kylo Ren.
* * *
[the Interloper]
* * *
The General thrives on order and discipline. Every detail is considered, every move meticulously calculated to become part of a greater whole and achieve a common goal. Kylo Ren is unadulterated chaos threatening to spill out at any given moment, a lost volatile mess stranger to his own skin.
Snoke's apprentice may either be a boon or a risk to his plans of revenge, and Hux should hate him. He has no place for wildcards and unnecessary risks. But Adalind sees only kin, a broken half-formed reflection of theirself. They are at a stalemate.
Hux does not know what to make of Kylo Ren, and that may be his greatest mistake.
* * *
The first few weeks in the Finalizer are a nightmare.
Correction: His co-commander is a walking nightmare.
Kylo Ren destroys his equipment, disrupts his routines and scares his crew. He dares to countermand Hux's orders and strategies, and wastes his time with inane wild-goose chases. And the Force. He has learned more about the Force than he ever needed to know or wanted to do with. His financial statements are weeping; he has never seen so many digits dedicated to emergency repair expenses.
Hux considers the pros and cons of killing his co-commander, and settles with reasoning with him. It is like talking to a wall. He clenches his fists and swallows his patience, and Adalind merely slinks deeper in his memories, laughing.
He has never felt so alive, and he wants to hate himself.
An alarm sounds. A rather---thankfully---unimportant console has just been reduced to a wreck. Hux grits his teeth and makes his way to the scene of the crime.
He may lose the battle, but he will win the war.
He solemnly swears it.
* * *
General Hux's crew are professionals. They are the best, the brightest, and the most loyal, taken from various stations and handpicked by the General himself. They are also not above petty gossip. |
a16c2b3de28544a88f29691988226fdb | ['a56b7dfd7e7046499de9c41b210ef44f'] | _I like you a lot, I like you a lot_
_Don’t let it stop…_
But then he started to move inside of you, first slowly but the pace got quicker as you both were consumed by your own pleasure. His strong hands held you down as you bent underneathe him.
\- Oh...my...god... - you moaned.
\- Crowley - he pushed deeper into you - Say my name.
-Crowley - you did as he told you, repeating his name over and over as you got closer to your climax.
_You can be the boss, daddy_
_You can be the boss_
He was slamming into you with a force, giving you pain and pleasure, all at once. He let go your hands giving two slaps to your ass.
\- Oh...my...Crowley!
_Bad to the bone, sick as a dog_
_You know that I like, like you a lot_
Blood rushed to your head, your walls started to clenching around him and you caught hold him tightly.
_Don’t let it stop…_ | eadba74804bc4d938bceedd3bd40f211 | ['a56b7dfd7e7046499de9c41b210ef44f'] |
You can be the boss, daddy
It started with one look, one smirk, one tongue dipped in whiskey. You spotted him almost immediately after you came in. All black and glamorous, he was sitting in the shadow enyoing his liquor. You went across the room watching him as he smirked beyond the glass and slowly put down his drink. He looked in your direction, his dark eyes locked on yours and suddenly you were glad you'd come here.
_You taste like the Fourth of July_
_Malt liquor on your breath, my, my_
_I love you but I don’t know why…_
He looked at you expectantly, his hand moved on his lap as if it was an invitation to sit and play... or was it something you only imagined? As if you were hypnotized, you came closer, took a seat and whispered your name. He responded you with a silence, sat more comfortable and rubbed his beard. He was considering something and you felt more under the pressure to say something else. But as soon as you opened your mouth, he hushed you.
\- I don't need to know your name, love, why, it's something you're gonna forget anyway by the end of the night. So I will call you a lot of things _but_ your name. You're my pet, now.
_You can be the boss, daddy_
_You can be the boss_
He took your hand and with a blink of an eye you were in his bedroom. Did he lead you there that fast you didn't realize it or was it some kind of magic hidden in his touch?
_Taste like a keg party, back on the sauce_
_I like you a lot, I like you a lot_
_Don’t let it stop…_
He smoothed your hand before let it go and you felt a shiver running down your back. He went to a minibar and went back with two glasses of whisky. He was hot, he was turning you on with whatever he did and you like it a lot. Sat down where he showed you, you took a glass of whisky from him wondering if you should say something. You both took a sip from your glasses watching each other. Then, with a snap of his fingers, you find yourself totally naked, your clothes were suddenly gone. You yayed surprised and embedded deeper in the armchair.
\- Get up! - he commanded you, his voice sharp and uncompromising, you stood up, silly trying to cover yourself with the glass of whisky you were holding.
_You can be the boss, daddy_
_You can be the boss_
He smirked as he came closer to you and slapped your bare bum.
_Bad to the bone, sick as a dog_
You gasped and felt a tide of heat flooding your cheeks and butt.
_You know that I like, like you a lot_
_Don’t let it stop…_
You turned to him, face to face, and that was it. No turning back, no way out. You played it along, like it was the last thing you could do before the end of the world. He swirled you, took over the wheel, owned you.
_He had a cigarette with his number on it_
_He gave it over to me, “Do you want it?”_
And you didn't mind.
_I knew it was wrong but I palmed it_
_I saved it, I waited, I called it_
It was something in that night, maybe someting in the air, that sweetness of cruelty, you knew, that could never be repeated.
_The liquor on your lips, the liquor on your lips_
_The liquor on your lips makes you dangerous_
Before you took his hand letting him get you out of that place, he told you about the rules. The ones that you obligated to obey. And the punishment if you don't.
_I knew it was wrong, I’m beyond it_
_I tried to be strong but I lost it._
You accepted them. And the second you said yes, you were already in the game. And he was the one tossing dices. But damn, you want it to be played that way. You craved it, you needed, you deserved it. You knew you did. After all you were a good girl, you let him kissed you. And you kissed him with your hands firmly keeped by him behind your back.
_You taste like the Fourth of July_
_Malt liquor on your breath, my, my…_
His tongue was wriggling inside your mouth, fighting with yours. You were tasting his bittersweetness as his beard was scratching your skin. You were trying to imagine it before, how he tastes, how it feels to be in his arms... but you failed. It was nothing like you imagined it. He rotated you, getting the access to your clit. Rubbing it gently, almost not touching it, he made you vulnerable and helpless. You knew you should not doing anything unless he let you, but you desperately wanted something more, more and definitely stronger. With your hands still behind your back, you took your chance and found and touched his bulge. He gasped as you squeezed it. He let go your sore wrists and turned you over.
\- What the hell do you think you're doing? - he hissed hoarsely.
_You can be the boss, daddy_
_You can be the boss_
_Taste like a keg party, back on the sauce_
_I like you a lot, I like you a lot_
_Don’t let it stop…_
\- I'm sorry - you whispered as he looked at you, his tongue licking his lips and his hands on your waist. Without second thought he pushed you and you landed on his bed. He climbed over you and took your wrists making your hands spreaded on both sides of your head.
_You can be the boss, daddy_
_You can be the boss_
_Bad to the bone, sick as a dog_
_You know that I like, like you a lot_
_Don’t let it stop…_ |
e562915adbf945dcad3abaf7e74b28ed | ['a58e70443edf4c8ab7e975bf97a7f38c'] |
Soulmates, everyone knew about soulmates. You meet the one you'll have by your side for the rest of your life either romantically or plantonically. You'll find them and life will be happily ever after.
That's the story given to children, that's the story Dan was given as a child. And maybe that was true at some point. Evolution and all that if Dan wanted to believe in it. But how could evolution explain the benfits of losing one your senses when you met your soulmate? How to be with them is to literally give up part of yourself? And you had no control what would be given up.
Dan quite liked all his senses with him, thank you. Sure meeting "the one" could have him losing a sense of smell or something manageable like that, but he could instead lose his hearing. Dan had no intention of becoming the next Beethoven. Playing piano as he slowly went deaf cause of the universe dictating who he should be with.
Piano was everything to him. He's been playing since he was nine and it got him through so much shit that would happen through school or homelife. He didn't think he give it up for anyone and the universe had a funny way of doing that.
He remembered when an American friend of his, Mark, met their girlfriend. Mark lost his ability to talk. Something important in the world of entertainment. And Amy couldn't see, so graphic design plus animation was almost impossible for her. But for some reason beyond Dan's understanding, they stayed together.
Losing a sense wasn't permanent. If they broke all contact, stayed away from each other, then slowly the sense would return and everything would be back to normal only to be lost again if they interacted. But they didn't.
Mark once tried to explain it to Dan. That love is worth any price. Mark was a hopless romantic. So everything went over Dan's head. He couldn't understand giving up your lively hood to be with what the universe declared their soulmate.
So maybe Dan was just a hopeless case, he could live without love. He had music and that's all he needed. He played in a piano bar a couple times a week, sold songs he'd compose over the weekend and it was a great system. He liked it, he like the predictability of it.
What he didn't like was when Phil Lester came into his life.
It was a Friday, a busy night for the bar. Dan playing a special section of muse and radiohead piano covers.
That must have attracted Phil over, cause once the night was ending and Dan got up from the bench. Phil was there, complimenting Dan, saying that he playing was beautiful and his music tastes were amazing. Dan blushed at the compliments, but that's when he noticed a muffle in his hearing.
It was almost like the air pressure in his ear was off, but it was getting worse. Phil's voice was becoming quieter by the second and then Phil had stopped talking all together but it didn't matter, Dan couldn't hear a single thing.
The chatter of the bar around them, the music that picks up after Dan's finished for the night. Phil was talking again, but Dan couldn't hear it. He could see soft pink lips moving, the blue eyes watching him in concern and shock. But he couldn't hear it.
Dan did the only logical thing running through his panicking mind. He bolted. Pushing through the crowd of people, every touch was overwhelming to his mind. He couldn't handle it, but he had to get out. He had to, the longer he was around Phil, the longer it would take for his hearing to return.
Once outside, Dan didn't even bother trying to hail a taxi or call for an uber. Instead he opted to run the fifteen blocks to his flat. The suit solitude that it had to offer so Dan could process everything that had happening.
The panic in his chest only served in getting Dan to his destination faster and the willpower to not stop even when his legs were tired and lungs burning.
He hadn't stopped running until he closed the door behind him and was in his flat. Sinking down to floor, his back against the door, tears flowed freely and his body heaved with every breath he took.
None of this should be happening. Dan never wanted a soulmate, he didn't ask for this, he didn't ask for a soulmate that would have him giving up his hearing. Although it wasn't Phil's fault. He would lose a sense too, but it must not have been bad right? Unless this was a case of unrequited soulmates and wouldn't that just be the cherry on this mess.
It would be easier to avoid Phil if that was the case, but then that could also imply that there wasn't anyone in the world that was completely right for Dan even platonically.
It was too much to handle in that moment and Dan was exhausting himself. He difted off to sleep on the floor in front of his door.
But sleep wouldn't let him rest, dreams were filled with rejection and loneliness. Dan woke up that morning as he fell asleep, crying and exhausted. He did manage to drag himself off the floor and onto his sofa where he fell back into a restless sleep.
It wasn't until night fell that Dan detached himself and tried to deal with everything he was feeling. Who could call about this though?
Mark was a hopeless romantic and texts wouldn't comfort him right now. He needed something solid like a voice, maybe a hug.
His next thought was Louise, but she had a soulmate and gave up the sense of touch for him. | 308ace2c67204eb397f4d931e21d6aeb | ['a58e70443edf4c8ab7e975bf97a7f38c'] |
**Author's Note:**
> pals, idek what the title is okay. let me live.
Dan and Phil knew they weren't soulmates. Neither of them had the right script on their arm. They knew that eventually they'd meet someone who was supposed to be the one, but they liked to say they'd still be together.
It was a young and foolish hope, but they clung to it. They tried so hard to believe they would stay together, but it was hard. Everyone around them said it was wrong. They shouldn't treat their own soulmates like that. Deny them happiness by being together.
There would be couples telling them that they knew what they were going through, but once they met their soulmates, they'd know. They'd know how selfish they were being by being them, being together.
Phil always took on more guilt than Dan. He'd always wanted to spread happiness and everyone saying he would deny someone of unbelievable happiness tore him down. Dan was always there though. To hold him close, comfort him. It never stopped the rock in Dan's own chest though.
One day, Phil would either be happier with someone else or love Dan but chose his soulmate's happiness over theirs. And it wasn't like Dan could even be mad thinking about it. He knew what he'd be getting into when he asked Phil out despite them not being soulmates.
Bright, sunshine, Phil Lester. Polar opposite to Dan. Dan wasn't exactly all emo and doom. At least now. In the beginning his entire wardrobe was black, he was constantly frowning at something or someone. Now their was more smiles, more colors to his clothes as he may steal a lot of Phil's shirts and sweaters. Not that Phil didn't steal them back or just steal some of Dan's clothes.
They honestly did work well together. Their personalities and standards meshed really well. Like the time Phil was trying to add an opinion at college but kept getting talked over. Dan had no problem to steal the microphone and make them them listen to Phil. He knew the other would never do it, he's too nice about interrupting others.
It worked both ways. Dan would procrastinate or be too afraid to start a project, but Phil would be there cheering him on every step of the way. He supported Dan's choice to drop out of law school and enroll in a community drama program instead. Phil still came to every opening and closing performance Dan was in. Sometimes even ones in the middle to surpise him.
It was almost like they were soulmates, except for the script on their arm. Dan's first words to Phil had been a string of curse words and Phil's was making sure he was okay. (He had tripped books Phil helped pick them up, laughing a little after Dan said he was fine.) Not the compliment on Phil's and the weirdest thing about skittles on Dan's.
But it was fine, they would be fine. Maybe. It was dangerous to think about the future. Neither of them could say for certain that if their soulmate showed up that they wouldn't go to them. They didn't know who they were, or how they acted. But they pretended. They pretended they knew what to do when one of their soulmates inevitability showed up.
Phil's appeared first. Charlie was nice, really nice. Matched Phil in sunshine and smiles. Dan couldn't even try to hate her. She went out of her way to accepted Dan as Phil's current boyfriend and never pressed Phil to chose between them.
She confessed later, after Dan had asked why she was so alright with them being together, that she was aromatic. And had stressed over her soulmate for years that maybe she couldn't love them they way they loved her, but Phil was perfect. He was everything she could want in a friend and Phil loved their friendship. It was purely platonic.
Phil and Charlie would go out to things like brunch, jogs, parties and events. While Dan was perfectly happy to stay home or work late with the drama program. Their interests aligned where Dan's and Phil's just didn't and never would.
Then there was just Dan's soulmate. Dan's soulmate who could mess everything up. He said time and time again that he would reject them if they weren't as accepting as Charlie. He be selfish and chose Phil. Dan wanted to chose Phil, he didn't want someone else.
He had several crisis about it, but Phil was there through them all. Saying that he'd understand if Dan left for his soulmate, that it'd be okay. He stayed even when Dan start cursing out the world for having a soulmate system. That it was presented that he didn't have a chose, they were meant to be in each other's lives.
It was two years after Charlie that Dan met his soulmate. Kit. Short and simple, just Kit. It wasn't short for anything and she made very clear when she learned who Dan was during their first improve class after she learned he didn't like skittles. The fact that he didn't like skittles had her saying that they could never work out as soulmates.
Maybe also the fact that she was, how she put it, the biggest gay to ever live. Dan would just have to stay with his boyfriend, but help her find a cute girlfriend cause she wasn't going to be alone while her soulmate was in a relationship.
Dan kinda loved her, in a completely platonic way, and could see why the universe thought they would be well together. It was the same as Phil and Charlie. They could do things that he and Phil couldn't, but they would never be able to be in a relationship.
Society still had an opinion that you should only be with your soulmate and any other relationships were doomed to fail. But Dan and Phil didn't fail. They had platonic soulmates, something still uncredited but very real. But Dan and Phil had each other and some great friends, so they were pretty content fighting the ideals.
**Author's Note:**
> alright hey hi hello. that was a thing that i wrote in about a hour.
> so yup.
>
> hmu @ pastelserenity on twitter |
a3c509315e3f4c439c34e92b4033c337 | ['a59084d5e4544fd8b45d6acd49a595b8'] | A message from Connor pings through, notifying Nines that his predecessor has managed to catch the suspect with no injuries to anyone beside a broken nose to the suspect himself, courtesy of the Lieutenant.
Nines decides not to mention it yet.
Reed has started shaking in his arms.
“Are you all right, Detective? Gavin?” Nines asks quietly, concerned.
After a minute of mutual silence, Reed pulls back, wiping his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, tin can, no need to worry about little old me.” Reed splutters a hoarse laugh.
Nines raises a disbelieving eyebrow, but decides not to comment on that either.
“Anything you say, Detective. Just be aware that you can tell me anything that bothers you, all right? As your partner, I am content to listen to anything that may be troubling you.” Nines hopes he is saying the right words. Articulating his feelings can be difficult at times.
Reed nods, so it must be working.
“Yeah. Yeah, uh, thanks for that. I’ll remember it.” He sniffs, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down. “I just don’t want to feel useless, you know? It was bad enough when Connor got here, but now that there’s you too, I just feel a little out of place, you know? Like one day I’m going to wake up and I won’t be needed. I’ll be obsolete, just like one of you out of date androids.”
Nines lays a hand on Reed’s shoulder, a comforting gesture he had learned from Hank.
“Gavin,” Nines starts, and he feels slightly overheated when Reed smiles at him. “You are not useless. You will never be useless, because you are one of the most skilled and competent detectives I know. There is no-one who could ever possibly replace you, human or android. Even if there was,” and Nines blushes slightly, cheeks tinged a faint light blue, “I wouldn’t want them to be my partner.”
Reed is staring at him, face soft and full of wonder. Nines wonders if this is what love feels like. The kind of love that Connor had told him was different than the love between pets and friends and family.
“I would never have anyone but you.”
Reed kisses him, and the world comes alight.
When they break away, Reed is panting slightly. Poor humans and their need for air. Nines steadies him with his hands on the man’s hips. Reed holds Nines’ face with warm, calloused hands that have seen many, many things.
“Wow. Didn’t think an android would be so good at that,” Reed says, and it could be a joke.
“Well, I didn’t think it possible that all humans would be disgusting,” Nines chuckles, takes a chance by answering in kind, and it pays off spectacularly because Reed laughs and kisses him again.
Rain starts to fall from the sky and they are still standing there, happy together, lost in love.
“So. Partners?” Reed asks after a while. Water runs down his face. Nines has the urge to wipe it away.
“Partners,” Nines hums.
He quite likes the sound of that.
**Author's Note:**
> I love me some soft Nines. | f2553c72a4034de89eae48dd65342513 | ['a59084d5e4544fd8b45d6acd49a595b8'] | He fires his gun, and something about the noise makes Connor falter. The clear intent to incapacitate is replaced with something more vulnerable, and Hank takes advantage of it by slamming his forehead into Connor’s face.
Connor grunts, stumbling backwards, and Hank starts hitting him, over and over, throwing the android-not deviant-not alive machine into a wall, throws a sheet of metal at him when Connor pushes him away, ignoring the has-to-be-fake cry of pain, shoving him into a pole and knocking him down, punching and kicking and hitting until Connor’s synthetic skin falls away, displaying the clear white plastimetal beneath.
It’s a cruel reminder of what Connor was truly destined to be.
_“I am a machine, designed to accomplish a task.”_
Connor leans against the railing, head lolling against his chest. Hank roughly hauls him up by the collar of his jacket and holds him over the edge of the building.
Hank’s heavy breathing fills his ears. Connor doesn’t breathe. He only stares blankly at Hank.
The silence starts to stretch, and Hank wonders what he is waiting for.
“Please don’t,” Connor whispers.
Hank can only blink in confusion, because he hadn’t been expecting that. He was starting to believe Connor wasn’t going to speak at all.
His mind goes blank.
“Please don’t,” Connor repeats, and Hank winces when a high-pitched whine accompanies Connor’s voice.
He doesn’t understand. Connor is only a machine. By all logical means he shouldn’t fear death -
“PLEASE DON’T!” Connor screams, and the LED on his temple burns red.
Connor’s hands move to Hank’s and start pulling.
“I DON’T WANT TO DIE! I DON’T WANT TO DIE! I DON’T WANT TO DIE!”
What the fuck.
Connor is screaming. Something fizzles in his throat and dies.
Hank is cursing. His bones creak in the android’s grip and nearly break.
Connor’s voice cuts off, and he is left with his mouth open in a silent, continuous scream. The LED cycles too hard and too fast for Hank to keep up.
The hands covering his own tighten their grip and throw his off. Terrified brown eyes close in resignation and fear. Connor starts to fall, and Hank understands too late.
Connor is afraid.
_“I would certainly find it…_
Hank grabs Connor’s left forearm.
_“…regrettable…”_
“SHIT! Connor, hang on!”
_“…to be interrupted…”_
Hank won’t lose another son.
_“You have to help me, Lieutenant. If I don’t solve this case, CyberLife will destroy me.”_
“Hang on, Connor, I’ve got you!”
Connor stares at Hank. And god help him, but Connor chokes on a muted sob.
Hank curses as he pulls Connor back onto the roof, back straining even though Connor is much lighter than a human of the same size. Hank falls on his ass, sore muscles making their discomfort known.
He focuses just in time to see Connor stumble forward, collapsing on his hands and knees.
The still, silent air presses down on them, the android in front of him unmoving, too many bad memories rising to the surface, and Hank stops breathing.
Then Connor curls in on himself and cries.
Its like a switch has been switched, and Hank rushes forward and wraps his arms around Connor.
“I’ve got you, Connor. It’s okay.”
Connor presses himself into Hank, grasping with trembling hands at Hank’s terrible shirt. The kid is shaking in his arms, gasping with heaving breaths, trembling heavily against the cold.
It had been cold that night on the road too.
Connor’s shivering intensifies, and Hank forcefully pulls himself away from the crash.
He lays a hand reassuringly against Connor’s back. The other rests on the android’s hair.
“I’ve got you, son. You’re not going to die. It’s okay.”
Connor keeps shaking. If Hank listens closely, he swears he can hear the bio-components rattling inside Connor’s plastimetal body. The body in Hank’s arms feels like its damn near shaking itself apart.
“Connor.”
Static emits from Connor’s throat as he shakes his head over and over into Hank’s chest. Hank removes the hand resting on Connor’s hair to move it down to partially cup the side of the kid’s face. He tries hard to recall his training about how to calm someone having a panic attack.
“Connor. I need you to slow your breathing,” Hanks says firmly. He thinks of all the times he’s seen Connor sitting completely still, breathing cycle paused, and mutters, “Shit, do androids even need to breathe? I have no idea how hyperventilating will affect you. Shit. SHIT.”
Connor stiffens in his arms, and his shaking and rattling seem to make his whole body vibrate. A quick glance at his temple reveals the LED to be racing, the brightest red Hank could ever imagine burning into his eyes.
There’s a more significant movement in his arms, and it takes a second for Hank to realise Connor is trying to push him away. A flash of blue blood against a glass wall suddenly appears at the forefront of his mind, and he instinctively tightens his grip around the vainly struggling android until his bones ache.
“Don’t fight me, Connor. I’m not letting you self-destruct.”
Connor stills for a moment, and Hank thinks he’s gotten through to the kid.
Then Connor starts to push against the frozen ground with his legs. Hank feels Connor mouthing words against his shirt. The same fizzling, sparking noise from before emits from his throat. When Connor speaks, his voice is nothing like Hank has ever heard before.
“HaaaaaAAAAAANNNK,” Connor groans, voice distorted and heavy with static. “LLLLEEEEEEETTT ME GO.”
“Hell the fucking no, Connor!” Hank shouts. “No way I’m letting you kill yourself now, not after you’ve just gone deviant!”
Connor wails at the word deviant. He scrabbles desperately, struggling without success as he cries and cries and cries.
Hank starts rocking him back and forth. He can hear his own blood racing, panicked adrenaline coursing through his veins. He can’t imagine what Connor is feeling. |
54e229e412cf49359b94b513284d6f24 | ['a5a220a63a234586addbbb7db72a73d9'] |
1. Picking up strays Greg
Greg why is someone completing a full background check on you and into close relitives. - Phil
Oh god, it must be the brother. - Greg
Brother? - Phil
Yes, dont hack into his files for gods sake Phil, im fine! There was just this drug addicit who came onto my crime scene, called the so calld whitines out on the murder and colapsed. Took him back to mine to sleep it off, he woke up and told me notto tell his brther and went back to sleep. -Greg
So you just assume that the brother found out you took his drug addict brother home and is looking you up? - Phil
Welllll the lad called him the British Goverment. - Greg
Greg. - Phil
What is it? Somthing wrong? - Greg
Is the stray you picked up called Sherlock Holmes? - Phil
Thats what the driving lince I found says. - Greg
And I thought I colected the odd ones. - Phil
Dont make me tazzer you Coulson. - Greg
Sherlock Holmes is brother to Mycroft Holmes, who essentily is the British Goverment and he's very protective of his brother. So he's going to wonder how you got a phone so secure he can't hack it. - Phil
Old miltery fall back? - Greg
Holmes will see through it. He may conect the dots but if he presses you tell the truth to an extent. He's a good guy. Mostly. - Phil
Mostly Phil? - Greg
Just look after his brother and don't hurt him. - Phil
Why the hell will I hurt him? - Greg
From reports the younger Holmes is very abrasive and will tell you everything about your life. - Phil
Really? - Greg
Yes. - Phil
Mystery black car just pulled up. - Greg
Propably him. Alert me to the situation as soon as he's gone. - Phil
I'm not going on a mission Phil. - Greg
It may become that. Phil
Over dramtic. - Greg
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I Lived. - Greg
Anything to add to that? - Phil
They're bloody insane, brilliant but insane. Homles had some suits take his brother to rehab apprently and then tried some vailed threats to know what I planed to do with hi brother and then tried to bribe me. - Greg
Did you try to tazzer him? - Phil
Nope but is was a close call. I told him I was thinking of asking his brother to help with cases if he got off the drugs and he tried to offe me money for it and to tell me howhe was excetra, so I calld him a daft bugger. I also added that it was obvious he cared for his brother but I wouldn't spy on him but if he wanted I would text him when he was on cases or if I thought Sherlock was back on drugs.- Greg
Did he agree or will I have to bring you over to America? - Phil
I'm not working for S.H.I.E.L.D yet, he kinda nodded and walked off, got a three piece suit and everything. - Greg
You fancy him. - Phil
He's hot but seems like a right arse. I'll talk to you later, I'm getting some cold cases for Sherlock to work on in rehab per the Ravens request. - Greg
Raven? - Phil
Yeah, if he's as secret as you say, gotta get a codename for him. - Greg
You're doing this to make fun of him. - Phil
Thats a bounes. - Greg
2. Bomb despolise
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Texts during the great game bombings
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Sorry for being gone so long
Whats your situation. We've had a reported boming on the same street as your stray. Phil
\---
Greg. Phil
\---
Sorry Phil. Its bloody insane over here. We have a bloke playing sherlock like his bloody vilion. Greg
Do you need back up? Phil
No. Theres only five pips and we seem to have it undercontrol. Greg
I'll have them on standby. Phil
Thanks. Greg
\--
Phil. Greg
What happened? Phil
You've been keeping track? Greg
yes. Phil
Get your people down to (instering address of the pool). Hostage situation. Sherlocks meeting him. Greg
On their way. Phil
Thanks. Greg
\--
Did you get him? Greg
No. Sorry. Phil
Damit. Greg
We working on it. Phil
Thanks cuz. Greg
Dont mention it. Phil
3. Any thing but that
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> This arent in chronicle order as mini series.
>
> Gregs hurt pre series two
Phil did you put me on desk duty? Greg
No. However you are hurt. I belive it was your "raven'. Phil
Philllllll. Paper work. Greg
Also not dating him.
You fancy him. Also theres nothing wrong with paper work. Phil
You love paper work. Greg
I apreatiate a good case report. Phil
Your a paperwork ninja. Greg
I do hold the fastest time on filing paoer work at SHIELD. Phil
Greg get back in your seat you can not go to that case. Or no dounts and more paper work for an entire mounth. Phil
Anything but that! God your evil. Greg
Just looking after you or would you prefere your Ravens workers to lug you back in or take you home. Phil
You are pure evil Philp. Greg
Im sending you dounts. Phil
You know i love you so much. Your my favorite. Greg
You only love me for my food. Phil
Yes. Greg
Get back to work Greg. Phil
Yeah yeah. Greg
4. Tiny Doctor
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Greg is curse about sherlocks new friend.
Phil could I ask you a favoure. Greg
Do you need help? I can have agents with you in ten. Phil
Not that type of favour Sherlocks just left a crime scene with a new friend. Well he left his tiny doctor at the crime scene. Greg | 1269be1e5cc9414db8b2aa221d85fc18 | ['a5a220a63a234586addbbb7db72a73d9'] | Not Gay
**Author's Note:**
> The video mentioned is homophobic games descused on Game thoery.
John groaned as he sat heavily in his seat causing Greg to smirk and pass him a pint.
"Long day?"
"Had a guy in the clinc today asking if I was dating Sherlock, said I wasn't gay then asked if sherlock was."
"Didn't ask if you were bi then?" John looked at him suprised. "Kinda obvious mate, you stare at a lot of arse." John took several large gulps of his beer.
"You're the only one who gussed rightly."
"Yeah well, I'm bi myself. Most people dont look deeper than that. Media only just excepted gays never mind bi's. My nice pointed out a couple of vidoes about it on youtube."
"Oh?" Greg noded.
"So I'm gussing Sherlock told you he doesnt do emotions?"
"Yeah. Married to his work." Greg snorted into his
pint. "What?" John said amused.
"Wellllll.... I didn't know you're married." John hit his arm causing Greg to lift his arms in surender grining. "No! Hear me out! You cash the checks he gets, you write up what happens, you bring in more clints and deal with the other 'tidus' things to do with him so you are the work." Greg was smirking at him now. John's head thumped on to the table causing Greg to laugh.
"He don't even fancy me."
"You sure?" John stared at him for a few moments before draing his pint and giving Greg the money to pay before leaving Greg alone laughing. |
a3650c3bed6241aa9ef251ba0dbe29c7 | ['a5cde9e9e7554be2968821b2a861981d'] | Your joy caved in on itself as you looked harder at what was written.
You couldn't read it.
The fact that you didn't read angelic script had never come up in conversation. It was hurtful to think of breaking the news of your illiteracy now that he had brought you something.
Seeing your dismay, he explained, "I am aware you don't read the Ancient Language-"
_Then why the hell would you bring me this?_
"-and I thought I would offer this as a symbol of my willingness to teach you." When you still didn't look up from the manuscript, he shuffled his wings. "It's the first chapter ofyour favorite book- Oh!"
You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist before he could finish, startling the poor man. He was warm and soft. A little too warm and soft.
It was a question you pondered almost constantly since you had helped him preen: how was he able to thread those wings into his characteristic robe? And now you knew the answer was that he quite simply didn't.
_Now, now. Don't make this weird. What's the use of illusion magic if you can't walk around naked once in awhile?_
In lieu of recoiling in shock, you gave him a quick squeeze before letting go. "Thank you, Azzi. This is really sweet."
"I respect fellow scholars and keekers of truth. After all, you never know when a little forbidden knowledge will be of use."
"And you come across forbidden stuff a lot? As a librarian?"
The twitch of his lip was small, but unmistakably impish, "Forgive me, I seem to have misspoke. I wasn't speaking from personal experience."
_Oh, you little sinner..._ | e4439b195ecc4bd6a45d36d8773adaf3 | ['a5cde9e9e7554be2968821b2a861981d'] | Death Shower Fluff
Death didn’t know why you bothered with so much personal grooming. You let a necromancer stay in your house, so of course you were going to smell like a graveyard. When you two had first met he had been bathed constantly by the various water sources in the Forge Lands that he was forced to venture in.
But then his stank ass walked back into your life and you had to find some way of taking care of him because he wasn’t going to do it himself.
Now his siblings marvelled at his new hygiene regiment, and you promised them that if they didn’t mention it then he would keep it up. The trick was simple: he liked being pampered and showing affection where no one could see. You had told him that it was your dirty little secret and no one would know.
Every day you would saunter your way into the shower without a word, and without fail he would follow close behind. Perhaps it had started as a protest against your “obsessive washing”, but it gradually evolved into an intimate act of vulnerability. He would turn off the lights and take off his mask, letting you see his true face by touch alone. It was unfair of course, as his vision in the dark exceeded yours and he could see your fully naked form as clear as if the lights had remained on. For now, this was all he was comfortable letting you see.
In the dark he was a different man. Outside of the running water he resumed his sardonic quips and out in public he was just as cold to you as he was to almost everyone. But the shower was his sanctum, it was where he would mumble sweet nothings in your ear and decorated your face with soft kisses as you rubbed shampoo into his oily scalp.
Anything you wanted, it was yours, all you had to do was ask. In these tender moments you were the most powerful being in all of Creation, controlling Death himself with little more than a whisper and a kiss.
Despite all he vowed he could do for you, you remembered that he was your Horseman and you promised to take care of him. There was a heart desperate to be loved under all that ice, and you would challenge anyone who would see harm done to it. |
5ecbe41c4f5243639216e924ac9c73d3 | ['a61284291bf244539cae8527cdce9ff0'] | Calan sucked in a breath, letting it puff in his cheeks as he searched frantically for a satisfying answer. He was a softie when it came to this kid, who wasn't when he set those big brown eyes on you? He scratched his head and when he accidentally pulled one out in the process, he was struck by inspiration. "You gotta get a hair."
Now those brown eyes were blinking in confusion, "A hair?"
"Yup, a hair." Calan was beginning to grow on his new idea, and he patted the shoulder he was holding to emphasize his authority. "You gotta get a chest hair before we start talking about you fighting or doing anything remotely dangerous. In the meantime, why don't you and I get ice cream after this op?"
Rex could only watch as the agent stood and walked past him, picking up a gun as he went.
(~)
Rex paced alone in his room, contemplating all that Calan and he had talked about the day before. Honestly, he hadn't even known chests grew hairs, except on Bobo. He had hair everywhere.
The boy stopped his pacing as a light bulb turned on over his head. "He never said I had to grow one myself..."
And thus, a scheme began to form and a mischievous smile emerged.
(~)
Rex didn't know when people began growing chest hairs, but by the way Calan had talked about it, he assumed it wouldn't be for awhile before he did. He was twelve, and by all rights should have been allowed to fight, or at the very least leave when he wanted. But if his plan worked, at least something would change. Hopefully.
By his logic, the more status of the person he got the hair from, the more status he would be able to gain, and therefor more freedom. That was, if his plan worked. So far he hadn't even seen Six walk around in a t-shirt let alone out of his green suit. Because of course, in the young boys eyes, there was no one higher than his caretaker. But alas, there did not seem to be an opportunity there, so he turned his sights to one of the scientists that worked with doctor holiday.
His victim was a young man around his late twenties, skinny but with strong arms. He didn't exactly fit the stereotypical science nerd, in fact Rex knew from previous conversations with him (being cooped up in a building for three years, you began to talk to anyone willing to listen) that it had been a coin toss on whether he would have gone towards the soldier or science side of providence. Besides Holiday, he was one of the top scientists there, and strong too.
To Rex, he was the perfect plan b.
(~)
It was the end of a long day working in the labs, and Paul was ready for a relaxing trip to the Providence gym where a sauna was calling his name. He let out a sigh as he sunk into the wooden seats set up in an open circle around steaming coals. This late, he was the only one there and he was enjoying the solitude, resting his head on the wall behind him for a moment. Just to rest his eyes.
(~)
"OUCH! What the-" Paul sat up violently when a pain in his chest awoke him from his brief nap. He didn't know what happened, until he saw a certain young providence secret weapon holding what appeared to be a hair between his fingertips.
"Uh-oh," The boy whispered, before turning and running away.
"Why you little- Get back here!" The scientist got up quickly, forgetting he wasn't wearing anything but a towel, and gave chase to the hair thief.
(~)
Captain Calan stretched, letting out a yawn that made his jaw crack. He was so tired, he didn't know what had possessed him to pick today of all days to pull a double shift. The night shift at providence was boring, and more than that, done alone. There probably wasn't even anyone still conscious this late at night, let alone anyone to talk to pass the time. Oh well, he would just have to muddle-
"Captain Calan, Captain Calan!"
The agent whirled around to see Rex speeding towards him, something clutched in his hand and waving as he ran. Behind him, one of the agents from the science division was running after the boy with nothing more than a towel on, an odd sight if ever there was one. Rex skid to a stop, making a dash for cover behind hte tall soldier and peeking around at his pursuer. "What's going on here?"
Paul stopped once he realized who the boy had hidden behind, scrambling to stop and salute the man. "Ca-captain, sir."
Calan raised an eyebrow, more confused than anything. He took a step back so that he could look both culprits in the eye, crossing his arms. "Anyone care to explain what's going on?"
Paul spluttered, just noticing that he was in front of a superior officer in a towel, dripping with sweat and out of breath from the steam and run. "Um...well you see, sir, I-"
"It's my fault," All eyes swiveled to the boy, who had the decency to look sheepish and guilty. Rex shuffled in his place, kicking his shoe around a bit. "I was just trying to do what you said, see?"
Calan's eyes widened when Rex held up his hand to show what had been pinched between two fingers. A short, curly little hair that matched Paul's hair color was presented to him, and even behind the guilt, the soldier could see a bit of pride and accomplishment in Rex's eyes. Realization hit hard, and a chuckle escaped him, soon turning into laughter that nearly had him folded over in mirth.
"Um...sir?" Paul was confused now, not understanding what was going on in the slightest. | e21c6c94a638448f9c4a4f2c74a489b9 | ['a61284291bf244539cae8527cdce9ff0'] |
A Knife Hidden in Hand
**Author's Note:**
> @arsenicgrace made this amazing LINK and inspired me to post my own Soul Eater piece. This was written awhile back, I just cleaned it up for posting. I hope you like it.
A laugh echoed through the air, ricocheted oddly around the wreckage of the Kageyama house. It was hardly more than the skeleton structure of the once quaint home, nothing but a few walls and burning furniture, the ceiling having caved in on the initial attack.
"You Meister's think you can take on every witch, but you come up against one when you're unprepared and now look at you? Dead dead dead, all so dead." The newt-like witch laughed over the bodies of the boys' parents.
"No! Mom, Dad!" Ritsu tried to run towards the chaos, maybe help his fallen family, but Shigeo held him back.
"No, Ritsu! You can't! You'll die!" Shigeo's breath came out ragged, fear and grief shining in his dark eyes. They'd been asleep only moments before, awoken by the sounds of their house falling apart around them and the screams of their parents. Now Shigeo held his brother back as he tried desperately to hide out of sight of the witch, using what pieces of the house there were left for cover. She hadn't noticed them yet, even with Ritsu's screams, but if he didn't stop it was only a matter of time before they were found and killed.
"I don't care, that witch hurt Mom and Dad, we have to do something!"
"They're gone, Ritsu! I can't-" His eyes flicked to the bodies and he shuddered. "I can't see their souls anymore. And that witch, she's too strong for us."
Ritsu grit his teeth, but he held back, grief welling up in his own heart. He knew his older brother was right. They were only 7 and 8, they didn't have any kind of training. "Fine... we have to go, then. Before she finds -"
"Well well well, what's this? Two children hiding in a corner like cowards." The witch grinned wickedly as she hovered over the two. "My, aren't you cute?"
Shigeo moved in front of his brother, ignoring the way Ritsu bristled at the comment. "Leave-Leave us alone. You got what you wanted, let us go."
The witch let out a sigh, as if she really regretted what she had to say. "Can't do that, little weapon. If I let you two grow up, you'll just kill more of my kind and I can't have that."
Shigeo flinched back a step. His eyes whipped between his brother and the threat in front of them, but they were trapped. Boxed in by the debris and the witch herself.
"Shige." Ritsu said quietly, "You know what we have to do, don't you?"
Shigeo's breathing hitched and his wide eyes turned to Ritsu. There was a brief moment when their eyes met and a veil seemed to fall over Shigeo's face, shutting out all fear.
He took a deep breath to focus and nodded his head, "Right." He began to glow and shrink into a ball of light, spinning until Ritsu caught him out of the air and materializing as his weapon form.
The witch blinked before bursting into laughter. "Kid, what are you doing? You're what, 6? 7? Are you seriously going to fight me with that letter opener?"
Ritsu growled, holding his brother- now in the form of a knife the size of his palm- ready in front of him. "Don't underestimate us." A flash of light and the small knife grew to a sword, shining with brilliant colors as Ritsu drove an attack forward. But he was young, inexperienced. Although he and his brother resonated well, they still didn't have the knowledge they would need to actually win in a fight with a human, let alone a grown witch.
The witch side stepped out of the way of the blow, dodging for a bit before sending in her own attack. She didn't even need to use a spell. She simply sent her power through a kick and her small opponent went flying. "This is just sad, really."
Ritsu tried again, but he wasn't used to wielding his weapon. He was growing tired, the tip dipping as it grew heavier and heavier in his hands. This wasn't right, he should have been able to hold Shigeo without tiring this easily. But he wasn't strong enough, their resonance wasn't strong enough, and because of that they suffered.
-Ritsu look out!- Shigeo shouted the warning, but Ritsu was too slow to dodge the attack. A burst of color and light exploded in front of them and the two were thrown back into one of the remaining walls of what was once their home. Ritsu's body made a loud thud as he impacted with the wall, falling limply to the ground, out cold.
Shigeo flashed out of his weapon form, crouching over his brother and shaking his shoulder. "Ritsu, Ritsu get up! Ritsu!"
His younger brother groaned, but did not rise. Shigeo's panic rose as he saw blood ooze out of a wound above his little brother's eye. He flinched back at the sight, his breathing rate increased and he looked back and forth between the witch and his brother.
He was feeling weak and scared, but he knew he had to take care of his brother. It was his job, the one thing that his parents had engrained into him since Ritsu had been born.
_"Protect him, Shigeo. Keep your little brother safe."_
As his older brother and as his weapon, it was his duty to protect Ritsu. Even at the cost of himself.
Shigeo stretched out an arm over his brother, a futile gesture to safeguard him. "Please. Just let us go."
"I already told you I can't do that." The witch twirled a hand, magic coalescing in her palm as she readied her attack. "Don't worry though. I'll make this quick." |
9098af406631429087bff6c0eedafcb8 | ['a6174b3af9be4cfd9d1ff9304f5ca5f2'] | “Well Sammy, in between having my face pounded in and getting tossed around I didn’t really have time to ask Meg what her social calendar looked like for the rest of the week,” Dean replied snidely.
“Hey asswipe, I just had to deal with BOTH of the Thunderbirds due to your brilliant plan, so cut me some slack and tell me what went down with Meg,” Sam snarled.
Morgan and JJ had joined Reid in observing the brother’s behavior. Reid leaned towards JJ and asked quietly, “Is this how your brothers act with each other?”
“Sort of,” she replied. “Eddie and Andy give each other flack like this, but Andy and Simon mostly kid around—not as much name calling.”
Reid remembered the one, and if he could possibly help it, only time he had met JJ’s family. The boisterous group had only been at partial-strength with her sister Anne missing Henry’s welcoming party due to her own sick child, but they were still overwhelming. And Reid hadn’t even been on the receiving end of most of the attention—that was a special honor reserved for Will, who had to endure a “talk” with JJ’s older brothers about his intentions towards JJ and Henry.
“Fine jerk,” Winchester was saying. “Meg was riding Agent Prentiss over there.”
Morgan and JJ startled at this new information, and Reid nodded slowly. He held up a hand to ward off their questions, he wanted to how Dean explained the evening’s events to his brother. Beyond the basic “demons are real and want to kill you” explanation, Reid had mostly been left in the dark. Maybe Dean would slip in some more information while explaining.
“Anyway, she and Agent Stick-Up-His-Ass were questioning me when I realized her questions were a little too pointed. So I doused her with holy water. She didn’t like that too much, things got a bit hairy,” Winchester explained. “Luckily Anna decided to stop by and have the mother of all cat fights with Prentiss.” He closed his eyes and smiled dreamily for a second.
“She, Anna, not Prentiss, also decided to give me a sword,” he added as an afterthought, nodding over to Reid who lifted it obligingly.” It has a fancy name and everything — Ascalon, is what she called it. Of course, Twiggy over there won’t let me hold on to it. He claims its ‘cause I’m dangerous, but honestly I think he just wants to play with it a bit.”
* * * * * *
“So what are we going to do about the Winchesters?” Rossi asked Hotch, dropping into the empty chair next to Prentiss heavily. At their raised eyebrows, he shrugged. “I spent the evening killing a bird that controlled the weather that turned out to be Henry Davis. And I hear you both had an…enlightening evening yourselves.”
“They may be guilty of some of the lesser charges,” Prentiss added, “but I’m of the mind to believe Winchester when he says he didn’t kill those women in St. Louis.”
She paused a moment, “And if they annoy all demons like they did tonight, then they’ve done a lot of good. Should we really lock them up for that?”
Hotch frowned pensively. On the one hand the brothers appeared to do quite a bit of good, on the other hand, they were vigilantes at best, who would kill without hesitation if they believed a monster was responsible. Given the skill necessary to identify monsters, they did what traditional law enforcement was unable to.
But what happened when they encountered human criminals? Would they be able to leave them to the justice system? Or would their contempt of law officers lead them to take care of the problem themselves?
“We don’t get to choose the laws we want to enforce and the ones we don’t,” he finally replied. “We keep them in custody.”
* * * * * *
“Who the hell is Anna? And Meg? And how was Meg riding Prentiss? What the hell happened here tonight anyway?” Morgan burst out, interrupted the brothers’ reunion suddenly.
Both Winchesters ignored him. “So you killed both of ‘em?” Dean asked his brother intently.
“I got the mate, and it was the Park Ranger — you totally owe me ten bucks — and those three killed Davis,” responded the younger brother. “And yeah, this plan worked great Dean. Weren’t you supposed to be responsible for Davis?”
Sam continued on, aggrieved, “Of course, Agent Morgan spent more of the ride back here telling me it was all some kind of trick and there’s a rational explanation for everything.”
“He killed a giant bird that shoots lightning out of its mouth, watched it turn into a human, and thinks it was a trick of the light?” Dean asked exasperatedly. He turned to Morgan, “Here’s your rational explanation: monsters are real, demons exist, every baddie from fairy tales, movies, and books is real and most likely will try to eat you.”
“Don’t forget that angels are real,” Sam Winchester added.
“Right!” his brother responded. “But they’re a lot douchier than Roma Downey led us to expect.”
Morgan and JJ recoiled.
“It’s true,” Prentiss told her colleagues as she crossed the room, apparently having overheard the brothers’ conversation. “God help us, it’s all true.”
“God’s left the building sweetheart,” Dean replied with a bitter smile. “Apparently it’s us apes, monsters, and angels stumbling around.”
“I can’t believe that,” Rossi said entering the conversation. “ How can there be angels if there’s no God?”
“Didn’t say he doesn’t exist,” Dean protested. “Just that he’s apparently pulled a fast one on us and disappeared.”
Before Rossi could respond to this latest bombshell, Sam Winchester asked, “But why was Meg here? And did Anna say anything about Cas?” | e9246bee77b2404597f81388593d777b | ['a6174b3af9be4cfd9d1ff9304f5ca5f2'] | JJ considered riding in car with Reid good training for Henry’s toddler years, but she maintained hope that her son’s breath capacity would be significantly less than her colleague’s. She loved Spence, but sometimes a girl just wanted to crank some Hank and zone out.
With no further information from their interviews, she wasn’t looking forward to reporting the lack of progress to Hotch. However, she seized the opportunity her ringing phone presented to halt Reid’s current lecture regarding the benefits of socialization on toddlers. She wasn’t yet sure if this was a new ploy of his and Garcia’s for increased time with Henry or a rationale for Henry starting preschool sooner.
The caller ID showed Hotch calling. “Hotch, nothing new to add from our end. The Grothman family didn’t recognize the other victims or have any new information to offer.”
Reid poked her in the arm. “Tell him about the investigating officers,” he hissed.
JJ wanted to swat him, but then she’d be driving with her knees and the Bureau would never let her hear the end of it if she crashed their SUV, not to mention her co-worker. She settled for a quick glare instead. “We talked to the investigating officers. They found no evidence of violence or recent threats. Didn’t find any evidence Jennifer Grothman was planning on running away either, but with no leads they couldn’t really do anything besides put the case on the backburner.”
Hotch sighed. “Rossi and I didn’t have much more luck at the Miller house. We’ll see you soon.”
“About half an hour,” JJ confirmed before ending the call. Reid was looking out the window intently. “You’ve never seen trees before?” she teased.
“It’s not that,” Reid replied frowning. “I was looking at the road signs.”
“And?”
Reid’s face suddenly cleared. “The road signs, JJ. The highway!”
“The highway what?”
“All the victims are from towns on, or near, this highway, US-141,” he said triumphantly. “It’s not much to go on, I know.”
“It’s something,” JJ offered. “Male, Caucasian, uses this highway.”
“Maybe there’s something significant about the highway to the unsub?” Reid theorized.
“So you want to pursue Rossi’s trucker theory now?”
Reid glared at her. “JJ, Rossi’s trucker theory wouldn’t work. A trucker wouldn’t be able to keep to a consistent four-month schedule all these years.”
JJ thought it over. “Well, the same highway year after year implies local.”
“I would have said a seasonal hunter,” Reid said, “but the months don’t really match the local hunting seasons very well.”
“Not too much open in January and September. Hunting’s usually best around October.” At Reid’s questioning look, she elaborated, “My brothers and dad usually liked to make a weekend out of it. It was kind of nice to have my mom to myself for a couple days—we’d always go and get manicures.”
“A weekend,” Reid repeated. “JJ, do you know what January, May, and September have in common?”
“They’re all months?” JJ deadpanned.
“They all have federal holidays—specifically, they all have three-day weekends with Mondays,” Reid replied.
“That’s not much to go on,” JJ argued. “Most businesses take those days off too.”
“Crivitz’s local economy is tourism driven—no way anyone connected to that industry would be able to get away during their busiest times,” Reid replied.
“That should definitely narrow the list of suspects. Call Hotch and Garcia,” JJ ordered, hope blossoming in her chest. They were going to catch this guy before be grabbed another woman, she knew it.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was time for a break, Garcia decided as she pondered Troll Princess Lovelace’s next move in her campaign to conquer the west side of the desk. Dux Holberton’s forces were making a valiant stand, but the right flank was taking serious damage. But Holberton was crafty and had the home turf advantage, so she might prevail.
Garcia sat up straight and resisted the urge to bang her head against the desk. It would only mess up her bangs and they were slamming today. Hotch had asked her to focus on the most recent victims, as they had the most complete case files and the details of the victims’ disappearances were more fresh in their families’ minds. But normally the boss-man had her look at the first victim—she was usually the most important to the unsub in some way.
“Ok, Garcia,” she said out loud. “Profiling 101, the first victim is special. Add that to the disgusting fact that our creep of the week likes to alternate between Crivitz and surrounding areas every four months, and what do we get?”
She wondered what was so special about, she checked her notes, Mary Hardsof that had set the unsub off. The twenty-four year-old was one of the oldest taken and she, like Grace Nichols, was from Crivitz. The unsub had started in Crivitz and then avoided the actual town for three years before taking Grace Nichols. What was going on?
She twirled a sparkly pen thoughtfully. “Someone is trying to hide their tracks.”
She allowed herself a victory twirl in her chair before resettling to stare at the screens. “Ok, I’m a psycho who likes to abduct women. I start in my hometown, then travel around the area for other victims. But I take another victim from Crivitz, why?”
Garcia frowned. “This getting inside the psycho’s head is a lot more fun, and sexier, when Morgan does it,” she disclosed to a nearby picture of the man. “Oh, beautiful boy, if you only knew the extraordinary lengths I go to for you.”
She picked up Dux Holberton and stroked her lime green hair thoughtfully. “You’re right, home turf advantage. I go back home because it’s safe. No one noticed what I’m doing, so it’s ok to cycle through again.”
“OK computer,” she cried, replacing Dux and cracking her knuckles. “Don’t fail me now. We need a white guy, currently in his thirties to forties who’s been living in Crivitz since at least September 2007.” |
85691e5b797344f49db324f6492aa7ea | ['a61ac8ad4c134bb088c6e07fd3970578'] |
The Meaning of War
**Author's Note:**
> {This scene takes place directly after the assault on Lordaeron, which Layli'in did not participate in. Now, the war is beginning, and Anduin is calling all able-bodied men and women to join the force and fight. This is just before they embark on a journey to Boralus and seek the help of the Kul Tirans.}
The Keep was massive, and tall. Its stone walls stretched higher above the slight Ren’dorei’s stature, seeming to meet with the soft, light pink evening sky above. But they were not foreboding, nor cold and uninviting. They were simply sturdy, broad, and safe. Welcoming, as the King who resided within them had been towards her kind after being exiled from their home for studying the Void.
And that was the reason she stood before them now, her head tipped back as she strained to reach the top with her gaze. She knew she would be called away to battle very soon, as the battle for Lordaeron had recently concluded without success. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was something she could let herself do. She still cared far too much for the ones she’d only recently been exiled from to justify fighting against them, let alone killing them. They were her people, her family...yes, even her family was still residing in Silvermoon. She wondered briefly if her younger brother had been drafted, as well, but pushed the thought from her mind as she entered the Keep solemnly. It was the very thing that ate away at her, and what brought her so boldly, though uninvited, to the residence of the King of Stormwind now.
Faint, eerie whispering began to creep into the back of her mind as she walked.
Up the carpeted hallway she stepped, slowly and decisively, her heartbeat increasing every moment she drew closer to the human king. Part of her wondered if he would throw her out too, as Lor’themar Theron had before, but she knew that Anduin Wrynn was nothing like the leader of the Blood Elves, having a much kinder disposition, and being more open-minded about others’ beliefs and opinions. Yes...the young king was so very different from Lor’themar.
Layli’in kept that knowledge close as she entered the throne room, which opened up at the top of the long corridor. The throne was empty, and yet two Stormwind guards stood at attention on either side. They eyed her silently but remained still, for she was not an intruder, but merely a visitor.
The rogue’s eyes flitted about the room, briefly glancing at the different exits that led away, wondering which one Anduin could have taken. She noticed on her left the garden, which she knew would lead to the Library. To the right and a few paces down the hall was an open door to a wide room, wherein she spotted the corner of what she imagined to be a large table. And after a moment, a gruff voice met her pointed ears.
“There are not enough soldiers!” it growled, and Layli’in could hear the frustration and tension it carried. Then, a softer voice could be heard.
“I am aware, Genn. I hope to transfer some of the troops....” he went on, but inaudibly. Nevertheless, Layli’in recognized the gentle, velvety voice of the young king immediately. She turned and headed down the hall, towards the two voices, passing by a set of four more guards which had been stationed against the walls, all watching her suspiciously. Two more yet stood on either side of the doorway, still as statues, but came to life as she approached them, moving to stand in her way and block her from entering the room.
“Halt!” they said in unison, and the Ren’dorei complied, startled slightly by the sudden movement.
“What is your business here?” one of them asked sternly.
“This room is off limits,” added the other.
Layli’in took a step back, frowning in disappointment. She’d hoped to speak with Anduin in private. “I would have audience with your--our king,” she stated calmly after a pause.
“Like I said,” drawled the second guard, “this room is off limits! No one is allowed to enter unless expressly invited by His Majesty Himself.”
Layli’in let out a quiet sigh, peering around the heavily armored bodies that blocked her view. All at once, a figure of medium height, even more armored than the two in front of her, appeared behind them. Layli’in slowly looked up between the shoulders in her way and saw the forehead of a blonde man--King Anduin. She hardly noticed the towering older king behind him, wearing a sour expression on his face.
“Gentlemen,” came the voice she knew so well, “what is the matter?”
The guards immediately parted and turned to face their liege.
“Sir!” they shouted, standing at attention.
The first guard spoke up. “This elf is trying to enter, sir.”
“And we were just informing her that no one is allowed to disturb you unless you gave them express permission, sir.”
Anduin looked between his guards, then at the woman who had tried to enter. His eyes lit up with familiarity right away, and upon his lips grew a warm, albeit small, smile.
“You’re right; I did say that, didn’t I?” he asked.
“Sir,” the two guards agreed at once.
“Do you not know who she is?"
"No, Your Majesty," they mumbled after exchanging glances.
"Layli'in Solarius. She is one of the esteemed officers under Spymaster Matthias Shaw. A renowned rogue and a newly recruited member of the Alliance. Surely you must recognize her.” | a1825f65ad7d4d4cbbd7f2d0adf050cb | ['a61ac8ad4c134bb088c6e07fd3970578'] | He put himself in her shoes, imagining being exiled from his homeland and the rest of his kind. The Horde taking him in and expecting him to fight the Alliance as one of them. Ordering him to slaughter his kin. His old friends. The thought was dark and terrible and made his heart quiver. His chest tightened sharply, as if a dark presence had entered it. He said a silent prayer, asking the Light to fill him with peace, for he felt as though he might cry.
Yes, he understood the girl much too well.
“I know,” he said at last, quietly. Layli’in jumped in surprise. “I know how you feel. Believe me. I don’t want this war, either...I wish it would all just stop.”
He turned back towards the large table, which Layli’in could now see was covered in a large map of Azeroth and many small pieces that seemed to represent soldiers. Some were red, and some were blue. Anduin leaned on the edge of it and loomed over the map, looking over the current state of his armies and the enemy’s. His shoulders drooped as if an invisible weight held them down.
As she watched him, Layli’in felt the urge to cry again. She did not hold it back this time, but was quiet about it.
_ Stupid weakling. Just give up and kill yourself. You're no good to us like this…. _
“It’s unfair of me...so unfair...to ask you to kill your brethren. And for that, I must deeply apologize.” A tear slipped down his cheek, but with his back turned to the others, it was hidden from view, and he did not hinder it. “I’m so sorry. I wish this wasn’t necessary.” He let another tear fall, waiting for it to drip onto the table and out of sight before he whirled around to face the girl again. He couldn't bear it. “You’re free to go. I won’t force you to fight for us. And you will always be welcome to return.”
Layli’in felt a rush of relief and opened her mouth to thank the king when Genn finally spoke up.
“No, Anduin! You cannot do this! You know how short on soldiers we are! You cannot make an exception for one elf!”
“Genn, I’m not going to argue about this,” the young king flatly replied to his elder. “I can’t force her to fight for us.”
“You must!” the old king insisted. “You did the same to the rest! That’s what war is, Anduin. It’s pain and suffering and death, but it’s for a good cause!”
“This?!” Anduin spread his arms wide, indicating the war they were currently fighting. “This is for a good cause?! This is for revenge--that’s where it all started!”
Layli’in quietly turned to look at Genn, her face somber now, as she was beginning to realize that she may not have a choice.
“That is not where this all started, and you know it,” Genn growled. “It started with a threat to our world that you wanted to work together _ with _ the Horde to see stopped! But that evil banshee had other plans.” He huffed and took a few clunky steps towards the rogue, softening his expression just a little as he addressed her. “Listen to me. I, too, know what you are feeling. And believe me, I would rather not be fighting this war either. But it is necessary now. It’s not just Horde against Alliance anymore.” He stood before her, a towering, rugged presence, but even in his shadow, she could feel a gentleness hidden away with him, and was not afraid. “This is about stopping a madwoman from destroying our planet. And I say, anyone who fights for her is a threat to our world and must be stopped at all costs. That includes any member of the Horde...and yes, any member of the Alliance that would be foolish enough to follow her.”
Something inside Layli’in shifted then, and she was able to see things in a different way. She was fighting for the safety of Azeroth...not just for the sake of fighting.
Anduin, too, lifted his head slightly as he came to the same realization.
Genn looked between the two of them, seemingly satisfied with how he had gotten his point across. He gazed back at the elf and said, “You will either fight for the Alliance--nay, for Azeroth--or you will become an enemy, and we will have to take you out.There can be no other way.”
“That’s a bit harsh, Genn,” Anduin disagreed.
“No, it isn’t. We cannot have a soldier who will not fight. She is either with us or she is not.”
Layli’in knew what had to be done then, and spoke up in the middle of Genn’s argument which he had tossed back at the young king as she thought.
“No, Your Majesty, it’s alright. I will fight for Azeroth under your command.” She stood up a bit straighter, accepting her newly chosen fate with confidence. “Just tell me where you need me.”
Both kings stared at her, the younger with a beaming smile on his face.
“Are you certain?” he asked.
Layli’in nodded. “I am.”
There was a pause as Anduin nodded and turned back to his table.
“Smart girl,” Layli’in heard Genn mutter from behind her.
_ Useless. It will all be for nothing in the end... _ |
8c51be9bb7fe43a9947d5571dc16b149 | ['a61c33c56bd64ce4a3726826c7677b68'] | "Ice..." Luke placed a hand on his beard and slowly soothed it downwards as he tried to think of something that would account for what had happened to her. "The water part... is similar... when you were younger you feel into a lake, but there was no ice. Perhaps Snoke is attempting to play off of your fears to get you to turn to him as he did with Ben."
"Water... but... I'm... not afraid of water..."
"No, but it was a terrifying moment." He then started a slow pace about the room. "You must be careful Rey... Snoke is a master of deceit. If you have fears he will use them, because fear leads to hate... and hate leads to the dark side."
"I would never side with them." Rey swore as she clenched a fist by her side. The thought alone of her ever doing anything to help Snoke was ridiculous. She would chose death before she would serve a snake like him.
"Good. I believe the only way to defeat Snoke is to find the first jedi temple. With no mentors left, we must find the knowledge the ancients left behind to restore the jedi. It is the only way." Luke folded his hands into his sleeves. "We must soon depart from this location. I was forced to contact Leia. The First Order will have picked up on the signal."
"They're coming here? We have to go right away then." Rey attempted to get up, but she barely had the strength and nearly fell before Luke caught her.
"Rey... you must be patient... something is happening to you right now... that is the reason I've contacted Leia. We must discover the source of your ailment." He eased her back into the bed. "Rest for now. It will take time for them to make their plans. They are not rash fools that will rush into an attack."
"But-"
"No buts. You've been through so much in such a short time. To begin your training you must first allow your body and mind to recover."
She might have argued more if she wasn't so tired. Whatever was happening to her really was taking it's toll. All she could do was put her trust in Luke that he and Leia would figure it out and help her. After all... they had saved the galaxy and she trusted that they would save her as well. So she closed her eyes and gave into the demands for sleep.
* * *
There were no nightmares. No terror. No rage. No water nor feeling of drowning. There was something else in it's place... something distant and familiar. A feeling that had no description. Just warmth. A faint rumble of thunder drew her out of her sleep and from the bed towards the window.
It was pouring down rain and she did not see Luke, but she distinctly heard voices outside through the rain. They raised, grew louder and she made her way to the door to try and make it out. She peeked out the doorway cautiously and see the two figures in a flash of lightning, both soaked to the bone.
"This is reckless." Luke insisted.
"Everything... I have ever done... has been reckless to you... Master Luke." The voice bit out in a snarl as he pulled the trooper helmet away and tossed it down into the mud, igniting that familiar red crossguarded saber. Rey gasped in shock that he could be here and suddenly he glanced over at her.
It surprised her because there should have been no way he would be able to hear that over the roaring rain and wind if they both had to yell to hear one another, but somehow he had known she was there. Another flash of lightning lit up their surroundings.
"Ben...-"
"Stop calling me that!"
"You are ill... I will fight you when you have recovered!" Luke insisted more strongly.
"I wasted enough time in that Bacta Tank! I will beat you now!" Now he shouted loudly over the storm and charged forward as if he had something to prove.
Luke had no desire to use his saber against his nephew and so he instead brought a hand out and shoved him back hard with a force push. He watched as his nephew landed hard against a stone that jammed into his back and Luke knew it couldn't be helped, but Rey yelped in pain and dropped to a knee. It drew Luke's attention and he stared in astonishment, but in his distraction he did not notice his opponent getting back up and only turned just in time to narrowly avoid losing an arm.
"Ben!" Luke cried out and grabbed his arm, it was a minor burn. He glanced up as his nephew raised the blade for the killing blow and quickly raised his arm to hold him with the force. "Listen to me, Ben!"
Rey recovered from the pain and glanced up just in time to see that Luke was in danger. She mustered up her strength and grabbed her saber and quickly charged to slammed into Ben hard, tackling them both to the ground.
"No! Rey!" Luke watched as the two struggled into another fight, both seemingly unable to hear him. "BEN!"
Leaving him with no choice Luke ignited his saber and put his blade between theirs before they clashed. They both shot him a glance of surprise, but Ben's anger took over and he made to strike at Luke and Rey was forced to reengage with him to protect her master.
"Stay out of it!" He snarled at her when she once again got in his way of killing Luke.
"Make me!" She retorted in challenge.
"Both of you stop it! Don't you understand what's happened here?!" Despite his words the battle continued on and Luke decided to switch tactics to one he knew had to work. "Why did you leave Rey on Jakku, Ben?" | d27b8f3688394f429a5187279e03f0f9 | ['a61c33c56bd64ce4a3726826c7677b68'] |
1. The Gargoyle Priest
**Author's Note:**
> Please be mindful of the tags as there is a brief sexual abuse scene described in as little detail as possible, but may still be enough to cause great discomfort.
**Moab, Utah.**
The Gold Knob overlook that had mysteriously been sold off and purchased by the equally mysterious Luke Skywalker was now home to a massive Cathedral. And in the eyes of Rey Nimma it just so happened to be the most beautiful place in the entire world and nobody could tell her otherwise.
While it might be intimidating to drive up to on a stormy day once one reached it the view was breathtaking and every Sunday her foster father Unkar Plutt would bring her and she loved every minute of it.
From pulling up and seeing all the shades of colorful flowers that someone had taken to plant in front of the Cathedral, some colors that she never even knew existed in flowers, all the way to the big, tall wooden doors that she thought must have been built for giants. It was obvious. What other explanation could there be?
The Cathedral itself was amazing and she wondered how people had managed to build something like this or what artists had carved out the beautiful angels that stood like guardians over the doors and yet it was in such a very strange contrast with the scary gargoyles that sat up on top of the Cathedral.
At the doors the priest was greeting people and everyone was all smiles.
Children were running and playing with their siblings or other children... sometimes even their own parents played with them. Glancing up at Plutt in that moment Rey knew that she would never have that with him. He wasn't her father. It was just some stranger that she lived with who occasionally fed her and made her come to Church so that he could scare and threaten her with hellfire if she didn't obey him.
That joke was on him of course. She loved it. She loved learning and the beauty of it all and the colors... oh the colors.
Those colors really came to life when stepping in through the doors when one considered the big stained glass windows that lined the church. Each one telling a story. Each one filtering in hues of blues and in some places produced tiny little rainbows which, could at the right time of day be held in one's hand.
The massive pillars reached up and up and up to the ceiling that seemed so high that she sometimes wondered if perhaps clouds could be seen floating through.
And even there the little rainbows from the stained glass dotted the pillars and arches with angels carved into them and sometimes she wished that she could reach up that high because those ones just seemed that much more special being as high up as they were. The things that you couldn't reach though... they always seemed more special.
When the bells rang up in the towers most people finally finished filing into the Cathedral with only soft murmurs that were quieted in respect of the house of God and the sermon about to begin.
"Rey!" Maz approached her, held out her hands to take hers and smiled at her. "How was your week?"
Maz. She was the kindest woman here. The organist for the Cathedral. She always had a smile for her and Rey thought that if she had a grandmother that it would be someone like Maz.
"It was okay, but I missed Church." Rey responded, shifting and once again taking a look up to the ceiling and the colors and just taking it all in. "And your music too!"
Maz chuckled softly and patted Rey's head kindly.
"You're welcome to play my organ any time, Maz." Plutt gave a slow curling smirk towards her and Rey watched the way Maz's face changed to something that she recognized as disgust, but Rey was for her good fortune... at a loss.
"But... we don't have an organ at the junkyard." She tried to remind her foster father they had no such thing, not having the slightest inkling of the nature of his words. For Rey's sake Maz cheered up and put on a smile.
"Make sure you come see me after Church. I have some fresh baked cookies for you to take home with you. Fatten you up, little girl." Maz smiled and pinched her cheek and Rey scowled, but perhaps was happy to receive any attention even if she would never admit to it aloud.
Plutt urged her to get into her seat while he himself struggled to even fit in between the pews because he was so big. There were a few curses uttered that should never be uttered in church as he managed to finally plop down with a great deal of groaning and cries of protest from the wooden pew beneath him.
One woman looked behind her, eyes wide and then quickly shot her gaze forward again. Not a word was uttered, but words were spoken by her expression.
Rey noticed that about people. They said a lot with their eyes when they didn't use their words.
Up in the front the head Priest Luke whom this very Cathedral was named after approached Maz and shook her hand, sharing pleasantries before he stood aside and allowed her to start with the opening hymn.
Just as she was getting excited for the music about to start she heard a crash from down the hall and Rey glanced down that darkened hall... the only place where all the beautiful lights seemed to stop and only black shadows stood.
Strange how this entire Cathedral filled her with warmth and light, but when she looked down there it was like something evil was lurking there and she shivered as if a snail had just crawled down the back of her neck, cold and slimy. |
3eef33d7232c4901b752a497b411825f | ['a6335111cb5d44b595606e799e5d6de1'] | he's the tear in my heart
**Author's Note:**
> i dont use capitalization because it is aesthetically pleasing. plus im lazy
"i hate josh dun," i said as i laid on top of patrick.
"why? i love josh. he's great," patrick said, shoving me off of him.
"he's too cute. and i am attracted to him. i hate him."
"what the fuck, tyler?" pete said as he walked in. "who are you attracted too?"
"josh dun," patrick said.
"i hate him," i put in.
"so, you hate him because you're attracted to him?" pete asked.
i hesitated. "yes."
"goddamn, tyler," gerard said as he walked in with his boyfriend, frank
"what?" i asked with a whiney voice.
"just…wow you need to talk to josh. he's really fucking cool," gee said.
"i know. he's sick as frick and it kind of pisses me off," i said.
"oh my god. tyler follow me," brendon said as he walked in and dragged me back out.
we walked to the football bleachers and ducked under them. they were a cool place to hang out (especially if you had friends who smoked) and my friends and i always chilled here.
"bden, why are we here?" i questioned, rubbing my eyes. i was tired. hating your crush took the energy out of you.
suddenly, brendon shoved me, causing me to stumble into someone's arms. a very certain someone's arms. a certain someone named josh dun.
"h-hi," i managed to stutter out. i felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled.
"hi," he said. "why did brendon shove you into me?"
i hesitated. "i don't know?"
"you sound-" josh was cut off by my phone going off with the song 'thanks for nothing.' it was my ex-girlfriend jenna. the ringtone was a joke because we were still best friends and both flaming homosexuals. jenna was dating a really cute girl named debby. they were honestly otp as frick.
"hello?" i said into the phone.
"hi!" jenna said brightly.
"tear in my heart." tear in my heart was our word for when we were talking to a person we liked. we had code words for everything. 'blurryface' was our word for our anxiety and panic attacks, 'goner' was for when we were on the edge and needed help, 'polarize' was for expressing our bottled up emotions, stuff like that.
"oh. oh! well, it's not that important so i'll tell you tomorrow. bye, love you tyler!" she hung up before i could say goodbye and i put my phone in my pocket.
"who was that?" josh asked.
"my friend, jenna," i replied.
"oh." josh paused. " why is her ringtone 'thanks for nothing' by the downtown fiction?"
"oh we were together for a couple months before we realized we were both flaming homos so she set her ringtone as 'thanks for nothing' because we thought it was really funny. so yeah." i uncomfortably paused. "you're not homophobic or anything, right? because i really like you and if you were homophobic, that would kind of suck because i can't exactly date a homophobic guy for obvious reasons, let alone be friends with him if he didn't like me back- oh."
"yeah, i'm not homophobic. it would be pretty hypocritical if i were to be, seeing as i am very gay as well. wait, so you like me?"
"uh, yeah, maybe just a little bit?"
"sick!"
"why sick?" can i just say i am so confused?
"it's totally vicious man. because, like, i like you too and i've liked you for a while, and oh man, this is so sick!" josh started jumping around excitedly and i laughed. "so like, do you wanna, like, i dunno, be my boyfriend?"
"yes! oh man, this is sick as frick!" i was smiling from ear toear. josh lightly kissed my cheek and i blushed a bit. he giggled (adorably, if i do say so myself) as he grabbed my hand so we could walk out from under the bleachers together.
"finally!" pete yelled as he kissed patrick. "you owe me a real kiss. i told you they would get together by the end of this week."
"nailed it!" brendon yelled as he walked out of the art block, hand-in-hand with his boyfriend, dallon. their clothes and hair were very messed up, leading me to believe that they had been doing questionable activities in there.
"finally. i could practically feel the sexual tension between you two," frank said as he wrapped an arm around gerard's waist.
"wait. you guys knew we were into each other and didn't tell either of us? fuck you guys," josh said with a pout.
"rude. jishwa, we're going to make them sick with the amount of cutesy, coupley stuff we do, okay?"
"hell yeah"
the rest of the group groaned good-naturedly as we walked home together. our very gay group.
**Author's Note:**
> ohhh you wanted a good fanfjc? yeah sorry no.
>
> stab me with a fork | d88571292a0d4589afb0595405f77e2c | ['a6335111cb5d44b595606e799e5d6de1'] | Goodbye, My Lover
Dear Joshua Dun,
I have loved you since we met. You were always my rock and you have saved my life countless times. Thank you so much. I couldn't possible thank you enough. But I just can't do it anymore. I am so sorry. I really and truly love you. You were the greatest thing that ever happened to me. You are also the most amazing person I have ever met. Never, ever doubt that.
Now, you always cry and I assume you're crying right now. Please don't. You don't deserve to cry. You are wonderful and iI'm orry I couldn't be there to hold you and comfort you. But I can't on. This chapter of my life is over. I need to move on yo another life where I am actually happy. I found joy in you, Joshua Dun, but that joy was never enough to fill the void in my chest. But as I said previously, do not cry over my death. Smile as you remember all the things we did together. Remember the day we met. Remember the day you asked me out. Remember the say you pushed me off the roof and I broke my foot and you had to pamper me for weeks. Remember our good times. Remember our late nights at Dunkin Donuts and Taco Bell. I don't want you to remember my depressed last days. Remember me being the happiest man alive. Remember me alive and well, not dreaming dead.
I am sorry. You are my one true love and I'm sorry for leaving you alone after my suicide.
Stay alive |-/
Love,
Tyler Joseph
I put down the pen and dragged a blade vertically along my wrist. One, two, ten times until I couldn't feel anything.
**Author's Note:**
> I've been having a really tough time lately and I don't really know what to do anymore and it's affecting my writing and making all of it really fucking sad and I'm sorry. I'll try to update as little as possible so you guys aren't triggered by me.
>
> Stay alive |-/ |
6eb70948301a45fd8bf0c5f68caf5d11 | ['a63c32f3d1c54658b2ce5704c3475c56'] |
Party Night
**Author's Note:**
> This is just from the DnD campaign I'm in.
Zelindo had a comfortable Barbarian childhood in the village of Copse, which was buried deep within the most dangerous forests of the land. At age 9, however, his parents walked into the forest. At the time he was unaware of why they had not come back by nightfall, he learned the truth about a year later. Walking into the forest, unprepared as Zelindo’s parents had, was literal suicide, and a common, unspoken, practice in the village. Copse was a harsh place to live. Merchants scarcely came and any resources that were once abundant, were beginning to fade away – leaving behind shells of buildings that were once happy homes and inviting schools and businesses.
Zelindo’s neighbors, Dagobert and Rovena, were a lovely couple with too many cats, who basically adopted him after his parents walked into the forest. He continued to live in his house and keept it clean and made repairs when needed, but the couple would make sure he was clothed, fed, and taught – all the way to University level, as the two had both been. By the time Zelindo turned 16, he learned about this old ass scroll that Rovena and Dagobert had found on an archaeological dig some decades ago. He knew that some evil people wanted it, but did not know why. He was instructed to check on it daily, to protect it, and to never, under any circumstances, open it, for it had unknown consequences. Being the good kid he was, he did as he was told – and continued to into adulthood.
The merchants stopped coming. For seven years not a word from any of them. As a result, Dagobert had to leave to get supplies, along with others. They all ultimately failed the mission. She returned with different people than who she left with – we all had figured they were long dead by now. Dagobert and the others were only back for a day or two to gather information, and the scroll. Zelindo was so piled with work at the forgery, he didn’t get to visit them much before they left again. He and Rovena had dinner together every night that Dagobert was gone. They planned her 200th surprise birthday party that would be held in the town square, with everyone invited – of course.
Upon Dagobert’s return, the biggest party in nearly a decade erupted in Copse! During the party, Dagobert pulled Zelindo aside for a moment and handed him the scroll. She instructed him that it was his turn to keep it and to find out its meaning. He took the role of scroll keeper, and continued to party. He started to flirt with the rich boy Pim, his boyfriend. They went back to Zelindo’s house. Zelindo pushed the half-elf against the now shut door and the two started to drunkenly make out. The barbarian held Pim’s hands abouve his head against the door as they did so and began to fiddle around with his buckle. Pim freed his hands to help the undressing process move along faster.
“Want to move to the bed?” Zelindo whispered into Pim’s ear.
Pim’s only response was a sly smile and nod. Zelindo took Pim by the hand and lead him to the other room. The barbarian pushed Pim onto the bed. He straddled the half-elf and bent down to continue kissing. Both of their shirts and belts and shoes were off, but their pants were still on, unbuttoned by this point. Pim bit into Zelindo’s shoulder as he began to leave sloppy kisses and hickies going from the half-elf’s jaw down to his waist. He paused and flashed a glance up at Pim.
“Oh, would you please just get on with it!” Pim demanded, feeling himself getting harder with every second that passed. Zelindo just shook his head and said, “Nuh, uh,” then pulled down Pim’s pants.
“Turn over,” Zelindo commanded. Pim did so as quickly as he could, while the barbarian whipped his pants off. Zelindo spit on his fingers and slowly slid his index finger into Pim. He slipped another finger in and worked to ready him. Once Pim was stretched a bit, Zelindo lined himself up and began to press into his ass. He slapped the half-elf’s ass once he was fully in and grabbed onto his hips. Zelindo moved slowly at first to make sure Pim could handle it, and gradually picked up the pace.
Pim arched his back and threw his head back, letting out a groan so loud, Zelindo was sure that the town had heard it, even through all their partying. “Oh gods! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” Pim begged. Pim reached behind him to grab Zelindo’s ass in an attempt to pull the barbarian closer somehow.
Zelindo’s thrusts were hard and faster now. Every muscle in Pim’s body was exhausted and close to collapsing, but then Zelindo let out a deep and husky moan as he came inside of Pim. The barbarian reached for Pim’s cock and started to stroke it. He slid out of Pim, turned him around, and dropped to his knees. Pim sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back on his elbows, as Zelindo began to wrap his mouth around his cock. The barbarian slid his tongue up the center underside. Pim laced his fingers of one hand through Zelindo’s hair and clenched is fist a little. Zelindo bobbed his head up and down as Pim tried not to buck his hips. The barbarian bobbed faster and that’s all it took to set the half-elf off and ejaculate. Zelindo swallowed all of it, then pushed himself up to kiss Pim again.
They both got dressed and rejoined the party. Pim went off back to his own house, which was a bit deeper into the forest – out of sight of the town. Zelindo went to the tavern to continue his partying. The scroll was still safely tucked into his waistband and under his shirt. Soon after Zelindo arrived at the tavern, the bar keep left his son and apprentices to take care of things, so he could make his rounds and say hello to everyone outside. Before he knew it, Zelindo was taking body shots off of Egon – the bar keep’s only son. Zelindo blacked out after that and awoke the next morning next to Egon, with a massive hangover. He was no longer wearing his pants or boots, and was not in his home. He was in one of the condemned houses. If you blinked too strongly this place could fall down. Zelindo looked around for the scroll, and it was gone… | e6c27461985048e5b576763f420967da | ['a63c32f3d1c54658b2ce5704c3475c56'] | Last Day of Summer
Seamus awoke to a sleeping Dean centimeters from his face. He looks so beautiful, Seamus thought. He put his hand on Dean’s shoulder to nudge him awake. Dean blinked his eyes open and smiled, saying, “I love seeing your face every morning.” Seamus kissed Dean’s forehead and sat up with a sigh.
“I don’t want to go back to school. Why do we have to?”
“We need to finish school shay,” Dean said as he sat up, “We only have one year left. Besides, this wonderful summer has to end sometime so we can get to the next.” Dean leaned down and kissed Seamus’s shoulder. Seamus turned to face Dean, leaned in close, then said, “Race you down stairs!” and bolted out the door, straight to the kitchen, with Dean on his heels.
They had been staying at Seamus’s house for the last two and a half weeks as his parents were away on summer holiday, so the boys had had the house to themselves – and they never wanted to leave. Today was the last day of summer before they had to go back to Hogwarts for their eighth year, and they planned to make the most of it. After they cleaned up the breakfast mess, they played some video games, which Dean was finally getting better at – but Seamus still kicked his ass. They went on a hike and picnic in the forest behind the house and then went to a clearing near the middle of the forest so they could ride around on their brooms – low to the ground of course, in case any muggles were to be out. Dean got distracted by a humming bird flying next to him and consequently crashed into Seamus. Their brooms were knocked into the surrounding trees and the boys tumbled to the ground. Seamus ended up laying on top of Dean.
He pushed himself up, but still hovered over Dean. Their noses almost touching. Dean reached up and kissed Seamus, passionately. Seamus reached for his wand and pulled it out saying, “Accio broom,” and his broom came rushing towards his hand. Dean did the same, and they both disapparated back to Seamus’s room. Dean immediately started placing kisses all over Seamus’s neck as he pushed him against the wall. Seamus grabbed Dean’s ass tightly, which made Dean squirm a little. Dean began to remove Seamus’s shirt, put one of his hands on the small of Seamus’s back and pulled him in slightly. The kiss that followed was so deep and consuming that Seamus seemed to just melt into Dean’s hands. Dean undid his belt, then Seamus’s, and pushed him onto the bed. Seamus quickly wiggled out of his trousers and Dean leaned over him. He began to slowly leave a trail of kisses down Seamus’s neck, leaving a hickie on his collar bone, and continuing to kiss down his chest and stomach.
Once he got to Seamus’s boxer waistband he stopped and went back up to kiss him on the lips and asked, “May I?” and quickly flickered his eyes down to the boxers and back up to Seamus’s face. Seamus nodded with a smirk on his face. As Dean began kissing Seamus again, he then slipped a finger into the side of Seamus’s boxers and gently pulled them down, revealing his large erection. He began to stroke it with one hand while the other supported him as he hovered over Seamus and continued to kiss, suck, and gently bite his lips.
Dean then parted from Seamus’s mouth to focus on the lower half of his body, and Seamus propped himself up onto his elbows. Dean started to lick and suck his boyfriend’s cock and bobbed his head up and down, taking in more of Seamus with each head bob. Seamus let out a moan as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back in pleasure. He bucked his hips and thrusted further into Dean’s mouth, causing Dean to let out a muffled moan. Dean began to go faster and faster. “Dean,” Seamus panted, “I’m about to cum.” But Dean didn’t stop, he kept going and swallowed all of it.
Dean stood up, wiped his mouth, then ordered, “Turn over.” Seamus eagerly did so. Dean grabbed the lube from the night stand and put some on his fingers and around Seamus’s hole. He slipped one finger in, and then two, and eventually worked up to three. Then Dean slid his hard cock into Seamus. Seamus let out a groan so loud, Dean had to put a silencing charm on the room just in case the neighbors should hear. He started pumping in and out of Seamus slowly, moaning quietly. “Oh… fuck… Dean… fa-faster… ple-please” Seamus begged. Dean liked it when he did this, and complied with Seamus’s request. He grabbed a tighter hold on Seamus’s hips and thrusted faster and harder. He found Seamus’s G-spot and within seconds, Seamus became weak in his knees and elbows, almost collapsing onto the mattress.
“No, no. Stay up Shay. Fuck I’m so close,” Dean said. Seamus obeyed and repositioned his hands and knees on the mattress. Dean finally came inside of Seamus and then leaned forward and kissed Seamus on his lower back. Seamus turned around, reached up to kiss Dean, and then collapsed onto the bed. Dean joined him and wrapped one arm around his shoulders. “What are we going to do once we get back to school?” Seamus asked. “Everyone knows about us now, it’s not like we are back in fifth year, Shay,” Dean responded.
“Yea, but we only started doing this over the summer.”
“Well, there’s always the room of requirement.” |
4d6c628aefbf47ed8e475ce2c2e4f3ca | ['a63d94d393c34b1e9170ffba1c0a34bf'] |
a love so lethal
**Author's Note:**
> this fic (very) loosely follows the plotline of the original movie and includes a few of the iconic quotes. let's hope all the research i did on weapons and assassins doesn't get me placed on a government watchlist.
"What’s for breakfast?" Jaehyun murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss against Doyoung's jaw and another to the skin beneath his ear. He wraps his arms around his husband’s waist to hold him in place against the counter.
“Oh, you know. The usual,” Doyoung answers, as if the impressive arrangement of food on the table is anything less than restaurant quality.
He dodges another kiss from Jaehyun, his mouth set in a hard line, watching as his husband moves to the other side of the kitchen.
Pulling a barstool up to the high counter, Jaehyun sets his laptop on the marble surface and begins typing. Rather loudly, in Doyoung’s honest opinion. “Jaehyun. I think we should talk.”
“Sure,” Jaehyun says, not looking up from the laptop. “I’m listening, _mon chéri_.”
His husband is clearly not listening, not in the slightest. His use of the French endearment makes it obvious that his mind is elsewhere. Doyoung pauses his task of wiping down the already-gleaming stovetop, giving Jaehyun a serious look. “I was talking to Kun, over brunch last weekend, and he gave me the number for a marriage counselor. He said the counselor comes highly recommended. I think it would be in our best interests to go.”
“Kun?”
He barely bothers to remember the names of their neighbors, even after three years of living in their charmingly domestic blue and white house nestled in the suburbs of California. Doyoung sighs and moves to organize the cutlery on the countertop, exasperated. “You know him, he’s been over plenty of times. And you’re missing the point.”
Finally tearing his gaze away from the laptop, Jaehyun meets his eyes. “Sorry.”
Doyoung sets the butter knife in his hand down with a clatter, making Jaehyun jump. “I made an appointment with the marriage counselor for this afternoon, right after work. I’ll text you the address. Don’t be late.”
Jaehyun beckons to him, tilting the screen of his laptop toward Doyoung. Onscreen is the homepage of a travel website, set to an image of the Eiffel Tower. “I was thinking...we should go back to Paris for our anniversary next month. It’ll be nice, we can take a week off from work.”
Paris is his weakness, the sickeningly cliche location of their first meeting almost four years ago. Jaehyun had proposed there less than a year after they’d met, already hopelessly in love. “I’ll have to ask Taeyong,” Doyoung says, his voice flat, but they both know he would never miss a chance to return to their favorite city.
Taking Doyoung’s hand and pulling him closer, Jaehyun leans in and presses their foreheads together. “You never take vacations, _mon lapin_. He’ll let you go.”
His husband’s eyes are warm, tilted up at the edges in a way Doyoung hasn’t seen in a while. Doyoung wrinkles his nose. “Did you just call me a rabbit?”
“Yes. _My_ rabbit,” Jaehyun replies with an easy grin, planting a kiss on his nose.
The open affection makes Doyoung falter, his cool composure slipping for a moment.
When Jaehyun tilts his head to properly kiss him, Doyoung turns to the side at the last second, so that Jaehyun’s lips brush the corner of his mouth. “I should get going,” he says, stepping away and putting enough distance between them that he can’t watch the way Jaehyun’s expression falls, though he feels it in his chest all the same.
“Fine. Have a good day at work, Doyoung.”
Jaehyun’s tone is hard, his eyes empty of their previous warmth, and Doyoung can tell he doesn’t mean what he said.
He longs for another clear night in Paris.
☆
Hearing the thunder of footsteps against the cobblestone street, Doyoung presses himself against the brick wall of the nearest alleyway. “Taeyong, a little help here? I don’t know where I am,” he hisses into the device clipped to his collar.
“You’re in Paris,” a voice calls. It’s decidedly _not_ Taeyong.
Doyoung peers up at the low rooftop across the alley, seeing a man crouched at the edge of the building. He places a hand on the gun in his holster, checking behind him to make sure that his pursuers have left the area. “I’m aware, thanks. And who are you? The Spiderman of Paris?”
The man moves forward and the yellowish light of a streetlamp illuminates his face. Doyoung draws in a breath at the sight, thoughts of his assignment gone from his mind almost immediately. There’s a crooked smile on his lips and a dangerous spark in his eyes. “Something like that,” the man says. “Care to join me?”
Technically, it would take a quick second to launch his automated grappling hook and propel himself to the top of the building, but Doyoung isn’t keen on exposing himself. Not yet, at least. He clambers on top of a wooden crate with exaggerated clumsiness and takes the man’s proffered hand.
“I’m Jaehyun,” the man says, squeezing their joined hands together for a second before letting go.
“Doyoung. What are you doing up here?”
Jaehyun gestures at the flashing lights of emergency vehicles and the steadily growing crowd gathered a few streets away. “Same as you, I suppose. They’re taking solitary tourists in for questioning and I wanted to avoid the hassle.”
There’s a sudden disturbance amongst the crowd and Doyoung pretends to squint at them, feigning confusion. “Did something happen?”
Raising his eyebrows, Jaehyun gives him a look of disbelief. “You haven’t heard? There was a break-in at that museum.” | 246d8a06b039498596e076913b96611c | ['a63d94d393c34b1e9170ffba1c0a34bf'] | Shivering against the strong wind, Doyoung huddles further into his coat, pulling the black hood down to properly cover his face. He’s wearing his standard uniform of sturdy steel-toed boots and leather gloves, since his team had decided there was no point in further disguises.
He’s meant to locate the prisoner and relay the information back to his team before terminating him. Once he’s done, he has to jump from the train as it takes a bridge route above a river, where a recovery boat will be waiting for him. This leaves exactly eighteen minutes for him to carry out his task, which should be more than enough time.
Eliminating the prisoner should be easy enough that Doyoung isn’t worried when he sees the train rounding the corner ahead. His mind had been occupied with other things earlier, such as the way Jaehyun had bid him a terse farewell and left for the airport before dawn, but now he’s completely focused on the task at hand.
With a final glance at the rapidly approaching train, Doyoung secures his grappling hook to the bridge and climbs over the flimsy metal railing, slowly lowering himself down. The train has ten cars, which means Doyoung will have to enter from the last car and work his way through without drawing attention.
Doyoung peers down at the train, counting cars as they pass. When the ninth car is underneath him, he drops down completely, his boots skating against the metal surface of the train. He pulls his grappling hook free of the bridge, careful to stay upright as the train hurtles forward.
Cautiously, Doyoung creeps along the length of the train car. He drops to his hands and knees to cross the gap between the train cars, holding on to the train as it rattles along on the railroad.
Dangling from the end of the fast-moving car with just two hands, Doyoung kicks through the small window in the center of the door with his steel-toed boots. He holds tight to the top of the car with one hand and reaches inside the door, yanking the heavy lever open and letting the metal door swing open. It bangs loudly against the train, alerting the three guards inside.
The guards stand still in the aisle between rows of seats, momentarily startled by his unconventional entrance, before raising their rifles and yelling in rapid Russian. Doyoung wastes no time in rounding on the closest one, dispatching him with a swift kick to the gut, followed by a bruising impact to the man’s skull.
Wincing at the force inflicted on his knuckles, Doyoung stumbles, shoved by one of the two remaining guards. He bashes the guard’s head against the wall of the train car, rolling behind a seat to avoid a sudden round of bullets from the other man. He presses himself against the back of the seat, bullet holes tear through the plush velvet upholstery.
Doyoung curses, hoping the short burst of gunfire had gone unnoticed by the rest of the prisoner’s escort. Pulling his pistol free of its holster, Doyoung stands up to face the last guard. The man trains his gun on Doyoung, circling around him uneasily.
Taking advantage of his nervousness, Doyoung pulls a flat-handled knife from his thigh holster and flings it in one smooth motion, slicing across the man’s knees. When the guard falls forward with a cry, Doyoung smashes the side of his pistol against the man’s head to knock him out. Stepping over the unconscious bodies, Doyoung retrieves his knife and moves to the end of the train car to pull the wildly swinging door shut.
He takes a second to survey the car, gingerly rubbing his bruised knuckles. The prisoner transport train is surprisingly luxurious, furnished with polished wood, dark blue carpeting, and brassy gold fixtures. Ten’s voice comes in through his earpiece. “Are you in?”
“Yes,” Doyoung replies, approaching the vestibule connecting this train car to the next. “It’s suspiciously understaffed. Is Sicheng in position?”
“He’s already at the river. You’d better pick up the pace, just fourteen minutes left.”
Ten’s voice cuts out with static. Doyoung slides the vestibule door open, treading lightly on the metal flooring. He peers through the dirty window of the small vestibule into the next train car, surveying the unsettlingly empty area. Stepping into the car, Doyoung spots a large dark stain in the center of the room. “Ten, do you think this is a set-up?”
There’s no response.
His team had been clear that this was a prison transport car, so they’d been expecting high-security cell compartments and minimal furnishing. There’s no sign of more guards or security cameras.
Doyoung keeps his pistol raised as he advances into the car, checking for any sign of enemy operatives. Crouching by the stain, he presses his gloved fingers into the carpet. It’s unmistakably blood, still damp enough to transfer onto his leather gloves. It looks as if it was hastily abandoned, with jackets left draped over barstools and guns scattered haphazardly on the small tables, sliding forward as the train rumbles over a section of uneven railroad.
When the vestibule door slides open, Doyoung realizes why. He darts behind the dining car counter, crawling forward on his hands and knees to peer around the corner. It starts raining heavily at that moment, providing a cover for the sound of him jostling his elbow against the counter.
Armed guards enter the train car, arguing in obvious agitation. Two of them have been shot, one clutching his shoulder and the other limping on her wounded leg. Doyoung stares, confused. Were the guards fighting amongst themselves?
“Doyoung.” Ten provides a live translation. “There’s someone else on the train. They’re abandoning their posts and trying to escape.”
He doesn’t appreciate the thought of someone doing his job for him. Doyoung retreats into a more concealed position as the guards leave the car, entering the empty car. |
52ffe88c9e7c4cb29c11bfc7b8864062 | ['a6588c10bb52453eac9d18cc54ef214f'] | The nurse snaps his attention back to his patient, and Scrooge finds himself grateful that this one, at least, has a decent grasp of priorities. “Not long now, Mr. McDuck,” he says softly. “Kids, especially kids who have emergency surgery like Webby, tend to sleep for a while afterward. Anesthesia is hard on them, and we are keeping her on some pain medicine so that she’ll be as comfortable as possible when she wakes.”
Scrooge finds that he’s wringing his hands in front of his lap, a nervous habit that he thought he’d given up decades ago. Today, he cannot seem to stop. “Will…” he starts, steels himself, then continues. “Will she be in much pain?”
The nurse, Hasan, Scrooge notices, offers an apologetic grimace. “Some pain is to be expected after any surgery, and a surgery like Webbigail’s…." Hasan motions with one paw toward Webby's left side. "Her incision… well, it isn’t exactly small.” Somber brown eyes lock onto Scrooge McDuck’s. “But I promise you, sir, we will do everything we can to keep Miss Webby as comfortable as possible.” His expression softens as if he can read Scrooge’s guilt in the set of his shoulders, his grief in the shadows of his eyes. “She’ll be a bit groggy when she wakes, sir, but it won’t be long now. Kids tend to shake these drugs off pretty quickly.” He straightens, adjusting the drip rate of Webby’s IV, then rests his fingers on the tubing, looking contemplatively at his patient. “If it’s any comfort to you, sir, it’s unlikely that she’ll remember any of this, or even what happened before.” And with that, Hasan shrugs, pauses to make a few notes on his clipboard, and then moves toward his computer.
“Thank you,” Scrooge replies gruffly, brushing a hand against Hasan's forearm as he retreats. He means it.
As Hasan disappears behind the curtain, Scrooge notices for the first time Huey edging toward him. He realizes with a sudden jolt of clarity that this is the quietest he’s ever seen his nephews, even in the aftermath of his outburst during the crash of the Sunchaser. Without a second thought, Scrooge extends a wing toward his oldest, welcoming him in. Huey freezes, eyes darting from the ground, to Uncle Scrooge, then back to the ground again.
“Huey,” Scrooge prompts, heart aching at the hesitation and what it implies, and this time, Huey rushes to him, biting back tears and burying his face into Scrooge’s chest. “I was following the eruption coverage the entire time,” Huey confesses into Scrooge’s feathers. He’s trembling. “I was so worried. I even emailed the vice-president of Indonesia to see if they had resources available to rescue you.” Huey shudders a tremorous sigh, then, defeated and sniffling, manages to look his uncle in the face. His dark eyes are shining with tears. “But they didn’t even respond.”
Scrooge lifts a hand to rub the downy feathers of Huey’s forehead, dislodging his cap as he does. "It's okay, lad. You did well."
To his left, he notices Dewey watching them anxiously from the corner of his eye. It's obvious that his middle-child is attempting to seem casually unaffected, but Scrooge knows better. Dewey’s wide-eyed gaze and eager, forward-tilted body tell Scrooge that Dewey is just waiting to be acknowledged, claimed. Scrooge obliges, meeting Dewey’s eyes and quirking him a gentle smile.
That’s all it takes for Dewey to come running. He flings himself hard into his uncle’s chest.
“An active volcano?” Dewey breathes as Scrooge pulls him in closer. “I could have been there. I could have helped.”
“You really couldn’t,” Scrooge mutters as he strokes the back of Dewey’s neck, the same soothing motion that had calmed Donald even in the fiercest of his rages. “I wouldn’t have wanted you there, lad,” he says softly, looking past Dewey to the ground. “I wouldn’t have put any of my family in danger if I’d have known.”
He notices Louie then, seated on the floor at Scrooge’s feet, leaning on his elbows halfway between his great uncle and Donald. It’s the perfect strategic location - Louie has an easy vantage point of the faces of his brothers and his uncles, without compromising his view of Webby or his position just outside arm’s reach of any of them. He’s pretending to play on his phone, but Scrooge knows, once again, that of all his boys, Louie is best at feigning nonchalance.
“Louie?” Scrooge calls softly, inviting his youngest into the pile.
"Eh,” Louie volunteers after a deliberate silence. “I knew you’d be alright.” He quirks a wink up to his Uncle and deadpans, “‘Scrooge McDuck, ‘tougher than the toughies’ and all.”
But Scrooge remembers how tightly those arms had wrapped around him, suffocating in their sincerity, recalls the tears that had dripped silently down Louie’s bill. Slowly, he extends his free wing, beckoning a bit with his fingers. Below him, Louie huffs, stuffs his phone into the pocket of his hoodie, and then, after a carefully calculated moment of hesitation, allows himself to be drawn into the pile. Scrooge squeezes him tight, maybe a bit tighter than the rest, because he knows without words that it’s Louie, most of all, who needs the physical reassurance that his family is whole, together, safe.
Beside them, Donald stiffens, watching the scene unfold warily from the corner of his eye. Scrooge is rarely so demonstrative with the boys. Scrooge decides that he doesn't care if Donald is surprised. He has his family back, and they are wonderful. The greatest.
He's going to enjoy them.
One by one, the boys snuggle into him, and Scrooge feels the last icy remnants of his decade of bitterness melt away. His entire family, or at least, that which remains of it, all in one room, and for the first time, Scrooge holds nothing back. He can’t remember the last time he’d been so at peace.
It’s a heady feeling, and it takes his breath from him. | fda8b410827b45b3bccd7d3aa51da659 | ['a6588c10bb52453eac9d18cc54ef214f'] | And then, just like that, it stops. The ground groans and shifts beneath them, and behind him, Scrooge can hear the first chunks of flaming debris from the blasts falling to the earth.
The air is hot and sticky.
“Webby?” Scrooge shouts hoarsely. His throat is sore. His ears are ringing. He climbs awkwardly to his feet, holding on arm over his face and tapping his cane in trepidation to get his bearings.
“Webby-lass!” Scrooge shouts again, more desperately this time. They’d been far from the blast thanks to Webbigail’s perceptive management of the map, but they’re not our of danger, not by a long shot.
Blast his blinded eyes! He’s got to find her.
“Fine,” Webby chokes from behind him. Scrooge whirls, reaching, and makes contact with her shoulder. He pulls her close, not sure of the tremor he feels is of the earth or from Webby’s skin.
The stand there for a moment, together, listening to the aftermath of the blast. Scrooge holds Webby’s hand tight, wondering what all she’s seeing. He barely hears when she finally says, “The entire east side blew.”
Scrooge closes his blind eyes and exhales deeply, again thankful that Webby had the sense to lead them away from the path of the volcano.
But they aren’t safe, not yet.
“We’ve got to get to high ground,” Scrooge tells her, taking both of her hands into his. Again, he notices that Webby’s fingers are too cold, despite the stifling heat in the air. He grips her tighter. “I know you’re afraid, lass,” he says softly, reaching up to find Webby’s cheek. “I’m afraid, too.”
Webby nods into his cheek.
“Okay, then,” Scrooge says, taking a deep breath. “We’re not in the path of the magma, which is good, but we’re not out of danger. Volcanoes erupt more than just rocks and lava, Webby.They pump out toxins and fumes that poison the atmosphere - or people!”Scrooge pulls her closer, pointing a finger in the direction that he assumes is west, toward the mountain. “Look around, lass, and tell me what you see?”
Webby shivers. “I see smoke and ash,” she whispers. “There’s a huge plume of it high in the sky, covering the stars and the moon, but it’s also spreading, falling.”
Scrooge smiles a sad smile. “Exactly my point, Webby-lass. That gas is going to sink, and it’s going to accumulate in the lowlands for days, weeks.” Scrooge sighs heavily. “If we’re going to survive until Launchpad comes, Webby, we’ve got to get above it.”
He feels Webby nod, and Scrooge grits his teeth at what must come next.
How can I ask any more of her,he wonders.
But there’s no choice.
“Webby,” he says softly, cradling her shoulder and cheek as the gentle as he knows how.
Beneath his fingers, Webby shrinks back, shuddering and wrapping her thin jacket tightly around her body. Scrooge wonders how she girl could be so cold despite the stifling heat in the air.
Oh.
Not cold, Scrooge realizes.
Terrified.
Webby is terrified.
Just as Scrooge is wondering what he can possibly say, Webby seems to swallow her fear. She straightens, shaking her head and pulling out of Scrooge’s grip. “There are some caves that overlook the beach,” she says determinedly. “I saw them when Launchpad landed us.”
Scrooge’s chest bursts with pride. This is the Webbigail that he’s come to know!
“I think they’re high enough to be safe,” Webby continues, voice rising in renewed energy as she works out a plan. She still sounds a little shaken, but determined, and Scrooge loves her for it.
Scrooge can’t help it; he squeezes her tight. Webby winces, but doesn’t pull away. “I’ll find us one to hole up in until Launchpad comes,” she whispers into his ear.
“That’s my girl,” Scrooge says as he releases her.
* * *
When Webby isn’t back in twenty minutes, Scrooge begins to worry.
When Webby isn’t back by thirty minutes, Scrooge begins to pace.
When Webby isn’t back by 45 minutes, Scrooge finds himself fighting a battle against all-out panic. He’s been alone on a beach, listening to the violent creaks and groans of the island as it settles into is new shape, hearing the whistling pop of flaming debris as rocks and soot land on the fields around him, feeling the temperature increase with every small fire that breaks out nearby.
One of those flaming pieces of debris lands a mere 20 inches from his foot. Scrooge kicks it hard as he can, flame and all, then unwinds the linen from his eyes. Sun or no sun, it’s been nearly and hour since Webby had promised to be “back soon.”
He’s got to find her.
Scrooge unties his blindfold, blinking as the muted swirls of color settle into some semblance or shapes. That’ll do, he tells himself. That’ll have to do, or Scrooge will die trying.
Scrooge turns, shaking his eyes and furrowing his brow. He remembers Webby hand been facing vaguely ‘that way.’
Scrooge sighs. If it’s good enough for Webby, it’s good enough for him.
The path isn’t quite as steep as he feared, but still, any climb is a bit awkward when you’re newly blind. Scrooge takes him time, ensuring three point contact with the rock at all times and making good use of his cane.
He’s not sure how he finds her. Sheer determination, maybe, or perhaps a Christmas miracle. How doesn’t matter; when he sees the vague white ball settled at the back of the cave that can only be Webby, Scrooge doesn’t even try to hide his tears of relief.
She must have fallen asleep.
Relieved beyond measure, Scrooge comes closer, reaching blindly to wrap Webby in a hug.
He’s startled when she flinches away from him. The rejection stings, and Scrooge takes a careful step back.“Lass, what have I done?” he asks, settling beside her as smoothly as he can. |
15d51e48bf0e4994b66c93ae534e99bb | ['a671a5ba6f3549c8ac7c180009d62d72'] | Matthew pursed his lips together, the corners of his mouth tipped upwards in the semblance of a smile. He turned his attention to Daniela then, bringing his drink to his mouth to cover his amusement in the presence of polite company. “What about you then, Agent Sousa? Surely there must be _ someone _ who has caught your interest,” he continued, managing to keep a straight face and not look at Jackie.
Daniela shrugged, half-heartedly raising one shoulder before dropping it. “Think I’ve got someone in mind but there’s not a chance in hell that they’d go after someone like me,” Daniela replied, keeping her eyes on Matthew and determinedly away from Jackie. “Shouldn’t ask this, be too rude, but fair’s fair. Anyone caught your eye, Agent Carter?”
Matthew flushed then, his cheeks turning as pink as the blush painting Daniela’s cheeks. “Yes, well, this has been a most enlightening conversation. However, if you would be so kind as to excuse me, ladies,” he said, standing from his chair. “Angelo has promised me drinks this evening.” At the mention of Angelo’s name, Daniela and Jackie gave each other knowing looks, Matthew’s transparent attempt at being formal not working at all.
“Well you two kids have fun and be safe,” Jackie said, watching Matthew gather his things with obvious amusement. “Remember to use protection,” she continued, just as Daniela took a sip from her drink, leading to the other woman nearly choking on her drink.
It was totally worth it, both Daniela and Jackie thought, just to see the completely horrified and embarrassed look on Matthew’s face.
* * *
“You love Sousa,” Jack said, the realization hitting him out of the blue as he suddenly placed the look on Jackie's face whenever she looked at Daniela.
Jackie hummed in confirmation, only looking at him when she realized that he hadn't known before just then. Apparently, she’d been so used to her co-workers knowing that she didn't even care anymore. “Don't you?” Jackie asked in response, discovering that she didn’t know if her counterpart loved the same person she did.
He cleared his throat, and Jackie stepped in front of him, blocking the pairs of Sousa and Carter in front of them. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, the look on her face reminding Jack of his face when he went to go interrogate a suspect. Jackie looked at Jack’s face, scanning it as if she could just drag the answers she wanted out of him - which Jack actually suspected he could do if Jackie was as good as Peggy was. “Not relevant to our - or rather, _ your _ current situation,” Jack said, attempting to change the subject.
She didn’t move, continuing to stare at him. “Jack.” A warning, if Jack had ever heard one, Jackie’s tone similar to the one Peggy used on him. Jack cleared his throat again, and Jackie dragged him out of the bullpen, stopping only when they were in the filing room and the door was locked behind them. “Talk, Thompson.”
“He’s in love with Peggy,” were the first words out of Jack’s mouth before he even had a moment to consider them. “There’s no way he’d turn around and suddenly fall in love with someone like me, especially me in particular. I’ve proven myself an asshole to him, over and over again.”
Jackie sighed, looking at Jack. “Does Peggy know? ‘Cause Matthew’s known that I’m in love with Daniela for months.”
He crossed his arms, to which Jackie responded by gently removing Jack’s arms from in front of his chest. “She might?” Jack shook his head. “She hasn’t actually said anything to me about it, if she does know.” | de18c5dbc3ff4e16b1e8f1eeb2dee624 | ['a671a5ba6f3549c8ac7c180009d62d72'] | “Anakin used to tell me stories about your life by the sea,” Padmé replied, turning to face Shmi once she was certain her dress was done being tied. “I begged him to tell me, and Obi and I were so happy to hear them, especially given the way we both can’t remember our early childhoods.” Though she was trying to be subtle about it, Padmé could read the way that Shmi was trying to come up with something to distract Padmé with, anything that could change their current conversational topic. Padmé took Shmi’s hands in her own, ducking her head down to look the older woman in the eyes. “Please.”
Shmi sighed after another long moment. “There was open sky in every direction I looked,” she began, bringing a smile to Padmé’s face. “Oh, with that sky everywhere, I could dream about sailing wherever I wanted, bringing Anakin with me and giving him the life he deserved.”
Padmé wrung her hands, suddenly nervous about continuing this line of thought. “Why did you ever leave it, your house by the sea?”
“Why else than for money, my lady,” Shmi replied. “We were poor, and there was no work by the sea for a mother with a young boy. So we moved into town, found work as a maid with your mother and father. They were kind enough to accept Anakin as a hand when he was old enough, instead of sending him off to learn a trade.” Padmé nodded, her early memories of Anakin filling in the gaps in Shmi’s story, a faint flush coming to her cheeks as she remembered when she first began to realize that he was becoming a handsome young man. “It was like their prayers had been answered when you knocked on their door that day.”
Padmé sighed, a wistful expression coming across her face as it did every time she considered the past she couldn’t remember. “I wish I could tell them more about my life before I ended up on their doorstep. It would be nice to repay them with something after all they’ve done for me.”
Shmi gave a half-hearted shrug in response. “It isn’t as if you and Captain Jinn haven’t explored every possibility to safely retrieve your memories while teaching you the way of the Force.” Padmé looked down at her hands, still guilty about how easily she had given up on attempting to break the mental barrier to her memories. “Hush now, child,” Shmi said kindly. “It was never your fault.”
“I didn’t -” Padmé bit her lip, wringing her hands together - a nervous habit she’d never quite grown out of. “I didn’t give up completely,” she admitted. Shmi blinked, momentarily taken aback before she managed to control her face again. Padmé sighed, dropping her hands to her sides and looking up to meet Shmi’s eyes again. “I started training with Admiral Yoda after giving up with Captain Jinn.”
* * *
Anakin watched Padmé walk past them in her entourage, the governor’s daughter giving her two friends a small smile as she did. Obi-Wan smiled back at her, Anakin clearly too entranced by her beauty and grace to even do that much. The longer Anakin watched, the more pronounced the faint blush on Padmé’s face became.
Once she had passed completely, Anakin nearly fell back into the mud, his clothing and dignity saved only by Obi-Wan’s foresight by moving him closer to the edge of the communal water pool, his adoptive brother instead only risking severe bruising from the hard, stone lip. Not even that seemed to break Anakin out of his dream-like haze, the pain not breaking his train of thought at all. It was Obi-Wan’s laughter that finally brought Anakin back to the present. “You could always talk to her, you know,” Obi-Wan teased, sitting down beside his brother. “She isn’t a proper aristocrat yet, and still finds our lowly company acceptable.”
Anakin sighed, managing to sound both forlorn and heartbroken despite what Obi-Wan considered to be almost a perfect day. “I know. But she’s getting older and Bail’s going to want to see her married off to some high ranking aristocrat or a big military man. What could I possibly offer her that they couldn’t?”
Obi-Wan shrugged, standing again while grabbing the two buckets that they were supposed to be using to fetch water for their mother, Shmi. “Love, perhaps.” Anakin snorted, but Obi-Wan knew better than to believe his brother’s outward reactions. Inside, he knew for a fact that Anakin was deep-hearted romantic, and believed True Love to be one of the most important things in the world, besides the Force that was. “While we’re speaking of forces that humans have spent years studying,” Obi-Wan continued, dunking one of the buckets into the pool. “How has your training with Admiral Yoda been going?”
The mere mention of the old man’s name seemed to be enough to make Anakin groan in pain, Obi-Wan’s brother’s muscles sore and complaining at the reminder of how they were being abused and trained to become stronger. “I understand that the old man is one of the most powerful beings in the Force, and that he’s got to be at least 800 years old, but could he at least try not to kill me while teaching me how to hone my powers in the Force?”
This time, it was Obi-Wan who snorted. “You know Yoda can probably hear you talking about him from a few miles away, right?” |
7658738fa4ff4a81a075db44da036573 | ['a6bc2ddbbd554033abd93450a026283c'] | "Shh, it's all right." Kurt laid an arm over Sam's shoulders. Sam could feel the soft weight of heavy muscle at rest, could feel the brush of velvet and the hot radiance of the skin underneath. Something jumped in his groin. Just the closeness, the proximity of Kurt's heartbeat pumping the warm blood under the skin touching skin made his body glow with arousal. His lips parted and he felt the pull, in total disbelief
_It's happening_
_It's happening_
_I 'm going to do it_
He looked up, his face inches from Kurt 's. Close enough to feel the aura of his personal space. Close enough to reach in
_and do it_
_Lord help me_
_and touch_
_my mouth_
_to his lips_
Kurt jumped in disbelief as Sam sealed his mouth over his. He fell back in surprise but Sam followed him down and grabbed the back of his head, pressing him tight. Sam's lips were soft, powerful. He reached out his tongue and dragged it across the point of Kurt's canine teeth, taking big hungry mouthfuls of Kurt 's astonished mouth.
_This feels so right_
_So amazing_
_My Lord_
Sam broke free and gasping, came up for air. He looked at Kurt beneath him, stretched out on his back, pelvis pressed to pelvis, stomachs close enough to feel each other's heat, faces close enough to feel each other 's hot breath. Kurt had an expression of total shock.
_My Lord_
_What have I done?_
Sam scanned Kurt 's face anxiously. Lord, that beautiful face –if he'd done anything to upset him, oh God . . . .
Kurt looked back up at him. His tail hung in the air, ramrod straight and frozen in surprise. Sam gulped and gasped. He could feel his erection pressing up against Kurt's crotch
_god that felt good_
He looked down at where their hips met. A gap of indigo skin showed between Kurt's sweatpants and tank top. Sam could see the muscle laying flat under his navel. Of their own volition, his hands reached out and stroked the tender rim of flesh with the meat of his thumb, grabbing onto Kurt's hip. He could feel where the muscle met the bone ridge of his narrow pelvis. He grabbed his hips and buried his face in Kurt's neck and to his incredible surprise felt two heavy hands reach up and tenderly touch his own waist.
He was grinding now –he couldn't help it, his hard dick was following its own set of instructions –and as he pressed his body into Kurt 's he ran his tongue over to the tender spot behind the ear and sucked and he thought he heard a gasp _God it felt so good_ so amazingly right the flesh beneath him was nothing like a girl 's, it had a power, a solidity that no girl could match, it could touch him in a way that no girl 's flesh could touch, it sang back to him in a hard musky frequency all its own
He looked up and met Kurt 's gaze. Kurt was panting now, mouth parted, incisors peeking out against blue skin turning velvet black in the dusk, eyes on fire, boring into Sam 's head.
A wave of shame washed over Sam. "Ah 'm sorry . . ah . . . ah don 't know what ah 'm doing."
Kurt swallowed hard. "I don't know either," he whispered hoarsely. "I just . . . you're a beautiful young man, Sam. Let me look at you."
Fingers found the edge of Sam's T-shirt. X-ed arms criss-crossed over his head, revealing Sam 's hard lean chest, clumsy and gawky and with room to grow. A boy on the edge of a man. Kurt ran his fingers over Sam's barely-there ribs and Sam shuddered with the tickle.
"Your turn." Sam slid his palms under Kurt's back. Loosened the edge of his tank top. Kurt wiggled his hips up, pulling his shirt free over his head. He tossed it aside and lay back, his stomach rising and falling in excited breath. My God, the man was – perfect. Years of discipline and rigorous training had honed his body to nothing but lean muscle, tight in anticipation of action. Sam ran his hands down his chest, feeling the nub of his hard nipple hidden in the velvet, sliding his palms over the muscle that twitched under his touch. He reached up and drew an exploratory finger around Kurt's nipples. He felt a surge in Kurt's groin, pressed up against his own.
"Ah want to kiss you again," he said.
"As do I." Open mouths, wet and ready, an airlock of shared breath sealed in place. This time tongues reached out, unafraid, and ran over gums, teeth, slid themselves over each other, lips kissed and released and resealed, strong and hungry. Kurt 's mouth reached up to meet him, his body making a tight semi-circle rising off the ground, abs contracted, hands reaching up to grab shoulders and pull him down. Sam felt a tail slide up and down the crack of his ass, wrap the inside of his thigh. He was so hard now, the fleece of his sweatpants soft against his dick, grinding into Kurt 's crotch, finding the hard groove of Kurt 's erection against his. | 59a6892bc5c24cd8a44b05d97cafb043 | ['a6bc2ddbbd554033abd93450a026283c'] |
Midnight Snack
In another reality, it's just a late night at Xavier's. Kids asleep, security system silently humming. There's no army of goons outside. Just Bobby, unable to sleep.
He's been staring at the ceiling for over an hour now. Funny how you can't just will yourself to sleep. The mind's got to turn off, become susceptible to the seduction of the beta waves. It's like willing an erection. Like he's got any trouble there, too. You try dating a girl you can't touch. See how long you last. See how well you can sleep.
Someone's up –he can hear the TV downstairs, see the cathode ray flicker lighting the staircase. His room's only a few feet from the grand balustrade. Isn't there ice cream in the fridge? The night air doesn't bother him, but he pulls on a t-shirt for modesty's sake. He'll never admit it, but he's still shy about his body. Too young, he thinks. Too skinny. No hair, except for a rough little happy trail of blonde ants down the flat below his navel. At least his shoulders are broadening, he thinks. He's seen the change in the past year. He's lost his puppy fat. After doing the compulsory training for a year, he's no gymnast, but he's getting there. He can feel the knot of his tricep when he tightens his arm, can see the tendons twitch in his forearm like the inner workings of a piano when he wiggles his fingers. It's harder to lay his hand flat on his shoulder, the lump of his biceps gets in the way. He can run faster and jump higher than he did a year ago –how much of that is the training and how much is his growth spurt he'll never know. Still, seeing Peter in the locker room after Danger Room practice - that can give a guy a complex. He checks the front of his boxers –no escapees –and heads downstairs.
That strange kid is still up, flicking his TK at the TV. Bobby pays him no mind and heads into the kitchen, snapping on the light. It feels good to stick his hand in the fridge. It's not like he sweats everywhere he goes, but cold is a balm to him –the prick of icy air feels like a cashmere scarf and sets his neurons a-firing. He cups his hot palms around the pint of ice cream for a minute and savors the chill. The first spoonful on his tongue is even better. To feel that ice going down his throat and radiating through his core is utterly satisfying. And it's French vanilla, too –yum. He takes another mouthful and raises the carton to the nape of his neck. The chill goes right down to his balls.
He's about to take another mouthful when he realizes Logan is standing in the door frame. Jesus Christ, that guy is good on sneaking up on you. It must be awfully hard to creep up on someone in cowboy boots.
"Hey", says Bobby.
"Hey", Logan says. His voice is a rumble. His eyes make quick flits to the four corners of the room, like a cat checking the all-clear before stepping over the threshold. "Doesn't anyone sleep around here?"
"Not tonight. "
"Got anything to drink?"
"This is a school. "He points to the upper cupboard. Logan reaches in and takes out a warm longneck soda. Bobby can see the distaste wrinkle his lip for a second.
Logan ponders for a moment, then hands Bobby the bottle. He knows just what to do.
One breath from him animates the soda. He feels it grow frosty in his hands. He hands it back to Logan, locking eyes. Bobby thought his eyes were an appropriate ice blue but he can see Logan 's are an arctic color unforeseen, and the intensity of their gaze is known probably only also by small defenseless mammals, right before doom is upon them. He swallows hard and tries not to show it. He wasn't scared when he first met Logan, just the usual meeting-the-folks nervousness. But here, in the kitchen, the whole world dark outside . . . it is unsettling.
Logan's a killer. Bobby knows this. Wrapped inside the sinew of his arms are blades that have tasted blood many times. All it takes is a flick of a neuron and death shoots out of Logan's knuckles with frightening, unflinching speed. Bobby can't stop staring at those knuckles as Logan reaches for the soda. It's like having a gun muzzle in your face. It's like taking lunch from the jaws of a Doberman.
Bobby can 't stop thinking this, and yet, twisted up in this morbid fascination is something else, something alien and unsettling but seductive, a little twisted notion screwing deep into the reptile part of his brain. He can't put a finger on it. But his eyes follow Logan's hand –Jesus, he's got big hands –up his wrists, up his scarless arms, as he drinks deep from the bottle and settles himself on the stool with panther-like efficiency. That must be what it is. He moves –fluidly. Effortlessly. Every muscle pulling its share. He is no brain in a jar. He's physical. |
92a1396d94294d798d412e3d5ff9b6ea | ['a6e168a3992c47abadaeebaf311adc56'] | But he wasn’t. Jimin had written three more exams before things were starting to get angsty. On the Friday morning of his Advanced Math exam, Jungkook burst into Jimin’s room, tears in his eyes.
Jimin had never seen him cry, “What happened?”
Jungkook took a deep breath and tried to not fall over, “Tae’s gone missing. His dad called and he’s been missing this whole time.”
Panic hit him before anything else. Jimin felt his chest collapse and tears sting his eyes, “Is he okay? Where is he? Who took him?”
Jungkook seemed to only hear the last question, “It was Hoseok and Yoongi.”
11. Find Him
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> plotting and scheming
The red had faded from Jungkook’s hair, washing back to blonde.
His roots had also started to grown in dark again and Jimin found it cute. The cuteness distracted him for the searing pain he felt every time he looked to the other side of his room. Like now, with Jungkook leaning back against him, Jimin running his fingers through Jungkook’s hair. Everything was quiet and peaceful and weird. They were supposed to be packing but Jungkook didn’t feel like it.
One month. One entire month that Tae had been missing. No one had been able to find him, no one could track his whereabouts and there were no leads. For a whole month. Jimin felt sick.
At first, he didn’t believe it. There was no way that Kim Taehyung could have gone missing. No way a brat like him could be kidnapped and held hostage. But then Yoongi and Hoseok hadn’t shown up to write their exams, nor Tae to write his. Days turned into a week which turned into weeks and now it was one month. Jimin had stopped crying only two weeks ago.
Of everyone, Jungkook had been the most angry and proactive. He wanted to go out and find Tae with his bare hands but the school had to literally restrain him and remind him that the police would take care of it.
But they weren’t. Jimin saw it every time they came to collect information from students that they were only giving half their attention to the job. It made his blood boil.
Him and Jungkook had stared plotting around week three. They’d tried to figure out what was going on but it all just didn’t make sense. What could Yoongi and Hoseok possibly gain from kidnapping Tae? Even with all the tinfoil they could find, neither of them could think of a single reason.
And now the school year was over. They’d written their last exam two days ago and slept the entirety of yesterday. They only had today to pack up everything in their rooms and move it to the storing house for next year as the school was closing tomorrow.
Jimin thought that Jungkook had drifted to sleep so he startled when he heard his voice, “I can’t accept it.”
“Accept what?” Jimin’s voice was soft as if he didn’t want to disturb the snow on his windowsill.
“That he’s just gone.” Jungkook whispered, sitting up and rounding on Jimin, “I can’t accept that he’s gone and we’re not doing anything about it!”
Jimin huffed, “There’s nothing we can do! We’re just kids, Jungkook. The police are trying-”
“HES OUR FRIEND, JIMIN!” Jungkook was standing now, arms everywhere, “He’s counting on us to find him! Tae would do this for us, in a heartbeat.”
“Jungkook, please, think. We don’t have any sources or leads or anything. Our parents have us under constant surveillance. There’s nothing we can do.”
The tears were back and they burned Jimin’s eyes but he blinked them away. This was no time for crying.
Jungkook’s smile was sad and hollow, “He loves you, you know. Even before he told me, I knew.” He had tears in his eyes, “And I know you love-”
“You don’t know that”
“Yes, I do. I could see it the same way I saw it in Tae. You two love each other so much.”
Jimin was full on crying now but so was Jungkook. The two boys stood in the gloomy room, the air frozen by the snow piling up on the open windows, their hearts dark and scared.
The police had given up on the case, Tae’s father was too distraught and no one else seemed to care as much as they should. They were all Tae had.
Jungkook wiped at the tear tracks on his cheeks, “He’s our friend, Jimin. Above all else, he’s our friend.”
Jimin could see the resolution in Jungkook’s eyes and his decision was made, “Then let’s do this. He’s our friend, we have to do this.”
The cart to take bags to storage comes every hour until 10 pm so Jimin has 5 hours to pack all of his and Tae’s belongings. He makes his way up the stairs, back from supper, Jungkook talking a mile a minute.
“-so that’ll give us maybe 3 hours to plan everything. Is that okay with you?”
Jimin hadn’t heard a single word that Jungkook said but Jimin nodded anyways.
They touched on the third floor and Jungkook turned to his room, “Perfect. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Jimin smiled and turned to his room, the smile sliding off at the sight of Tae’s bed covers. It was gonna be a long night.
Jungkook had been talking about Room Selection. This was the process of the upcoming seniors to choose their own rooms that they would move into next year. None of them would have roommates anymore. The thought made Jimin’s chest heavy.
He stood at the top of the 5th floor staircase, watching the current seniors pack and move their things. Jimin could smell the weed in the air, those who wanted too, smoking openly. It was their last night in high school, no one was gonna punish them now. | 8cc30b4172454a1db8c850dadb0385d4 | ['a6e168a3992c47abadaeebaf311adc56'] | The Devil knew too, egging him on, “That’s it, baby. You’re gonna come for me, yeah? Make yourself all pretty for me, one more time.”
“Y-yeah, ’m pretty for you. F-fuck me harder please” Jimin whimpered, stomach tightening.
The Devil thrust harder and faster, making Jimin keen. He could feel the pressure of his orgasm in his chest. Everything felt so tight, making Jimin feel lightheaded. His arms felt weak, pain-numbing them to the point of concern. But Jimin had no time to be concerned.
“Harder!” Jimin whined, head empty and heavy, chest compressed and collapsing on himself. The Devil picked up the pace, jackhammering into Jimin, making him scream.
“Such a good baby. Like it when I fuck you rough? Gonna make me come inside you,” the Devil groaned, as he fucked Jimin even harder.
He couldn’t catch his breath, feeling dizzy and used, pleasure coursing through his veins. Jimin’s back arched as it happened, lifting off the altar, vision blinded as he came the hardest he ever had in his life. He felt the Devil come inside him too, hot and burning, making him scream. His chest collapsed, pain and pleasure mixing so well in his body, he didn’t know it happened until it was too late. Jimin felt his heart clench and spasm, shooting pain all over his body. He screamed now, all too much, before his voice gave out, his vision went black, heart stopped and he slumped back on the altar, dead.
At the slump of Jimin’s body, the devil pulled out. He panted as he cleaned himself up, putting his coat back on. Fixing his hair, he strut back to Jimin’s lifeless body, heels clicking against the floor, and tapped at his cheek, “You did so well, baby. I’ll see you soon.”
With a whoosh of his cape, he was gone.
Jimin’s body lies there, no pulse, no heartbeat, cock out, come all over himself and the altar, drool on his cheek, eyes glazed and unfocused, legs spread open. And that’s how they find him, a sacrifice, splayed out and as slutty as he always wanted to be.
**
At first, there’s darkness, then Jimin is falling. He falls and falls for what feels like forever, surrounded by darkness. He doesn’t feel like he’s in his body but he can’t be sure. He feels weightless and airy.
Just as Jimin thought it would never end, he lands. A soft thud on a black patch of dirt. The sudden light blinds him so it takes a second for him to note his surroundings. Blinking back his vision, Jimin looked around and sees acres of land. On the one side is a field of fire, stretching far and wide, taking shape with hills and what looks like other people. On the other side is a stretch of ice, snow as far as Jimin can see and small mounts of it dotted around the people there.
Out of nowhere, a shoot of fire hits him, making him scream. Jimin looked down at his body, checking for damages, and finds nothing. His body isn’t there, rather a gentle white, glowing silhouette of what his body used to look like. Now the silhouette glowed red from the fire.
“Move it, move it, you imbecile.” A thing Jimin hadn’t seen says to him and shoves him off the black patch as another body tumbles out the hole above it.
Startled, Jimin moves away and watches as the same process that happened to him happens to the other person expect this time with ice
.
He spins in place, taking in everything, making the conclusion that he’s in hell. Great, Jimin thinks, just great.
He knew all that sinning he’d done would land him up here but he just couldn’t believe it. Before he has time to think, another thing— Jimin thinks them to be demons—approaches him.
“The Great One demands to see you, immediately.”
The great one? Intrigued by the nickname, Jimin follows the demon leads him to the flaming red castle on the fire side.
**
“It’s so good to see my baby again.”
Jimin’s stomach tightens at the Devil’s soft words. He felt the lust crawl up his chest as he watched the Devil lounge on his throne, eating what looked like strawberries.
He stayed silent as the Devil rose from the throne, heels making him look menacing and strutting towards Jimin. The throne room was grand and luxurious, filled with couches and torture devices. He tried to not look at those.
The Devil held his chin in place, smirk on his lips, “Do you know why I bought you here, Jiminie?”
He clenched around nothing, already feeling needy, “To fuck me?”
Laughter bubbled out of the Devil’s lips, a smile widening his cheeks, “No, no baby, we can do that later. For now, let’s talk business. Do you know what the seven deadly sins are?”
Embarrassed by his assumption, Jimin blushed but nodded his head, “Yeah, we learnt about them in Bible Study. They’re the worst of the worst sins one could ever commit.”
An evil grin carved into the Devil’s face, “That’s right, my baby. And do you know what happened back at the church? Know what that was all for?”
Jimin shook his head but tried to think. He was a smart boy after all. He thought back to weeks ago, the growing desire that came out of nowhere, consuming him. He thought about how eventually he couldn’t do anything but play with himself.
The Devil saw the realisation dawn on Jimin, and the blush that followed, “That’s right, Jiminie, or should I say Lust, you’re one of the sins now”
3. "Mine"
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> ...its all his. rightfully so...
“Excuse me?”
Jungkook paused the music on his phone at the touch on his arm. He looked up at the smiling boy in front of him and recognised him from Economics.
“What’s up, Jackson?” |
b423b50d06f540d0baedb2300d332258 | ['a6fe7461f0fe4c53a9f954fd8e27b554'] | Command
**Author's Note:**
> This is the first time I wrote a fan fiction like this so don't get your hopes to high :)
> Criticism is welcomed
>
> (F/N) = First Name
> (L/N) = Last Name
_-Run. Just keep on running. Don’t stop. Don’t look back._
There were 3 things on your mind right now. 1, The resistance, right behind you, firing blasters at you. 2, The First Order, their ship, it’s just within your reach. 3, running. You kept running towards the First Order space ship, flying away from the Resistance team, but just hovering above the ground so you could jump into safety. The General. General Hux. He held out his hand, trying to reach yours. You held your arm out, trying to reach to safety, trying to reach to him, but a dead end was approaching.
_-Run. Just keep on running. Don’t stop. Don’t look back._
Your legs couldn't go on any longer, but you forced them to keep going. You were so close, so close. You were just inches away from the Generals hand.
_-Run. Just keep on run-_
**BAM**
An X-wing fighter shot the door, causing you to flinch and trip over. The road came to an end and the ship retreated to the air, vanishing in the sky.
_-Run. Just keep on running. Don’t stop. Don’t look back._
_-But that option is not available._
You quickly went to stand on both two feet, staring up at the ship, flying away, turning into a small speck. Your mind went blank. It’s gone. They’re gone. He’s gone. You felt a tear rolling down your cheek. With no energy left, you fell to your knees, and cried. You pushed yourself to your limit, and blackness consumed your sight. The Resistance cornered you as your weak body fell on the ground. Two Resistance soldiers walked up to you and carried your damaged body to their ship.
_-Get up. Get out of there!_
_-But you couldn't._
You shouldn’t force yourself. But you had to. You had to get back to the First Order. You had to get back to him.
_-Get up. Get out of there!_
_-But you couldn't._
You, Lieutenant (F/N) (L/N) of the First Order, was lost to the Resistance. | 7d49bef1f0b84df2bd7bcfe1d4779530 | ['a6fe7461f0fe4c53a9f954fd8e27b554'] | What it means to be Immortal || The Beginning
Story: an account of imaginary or real people and events told for entertainment.
Imagination: existing only in the imagination.
If I were to tell you a story, would you care to listen? Would you sleep halfway the chapter? Would you cry or laugh? Would you find it interesting, or would you find it boring? Some stories contain imaginary people. People that don’t exist. People who aren't real. So does that mean their stories and feelings shouldn't matter, just because they aren't real? I had seen many characters who were loved by a lot of people, that to an extent, they worshipped the character or believed a character to be real. But why do these people love a character, a _person_ , who doesn't exist?
These characters may not be physically real, but they are humanly real. They share the same problems or emotions with the audience. They relate to the audience in their stories. In other words, these characters are humanly real. That’s why they are so beloved. Sure imaginary may mean non-existent, but I wouldn't use the words, unreal either.
Story: an account of **imaginary** or **real** people and events told for entertainment.
I never liked this definition. So I would like to re-word it.
Story: an account of **fictional** or **non-fictional** people and events told for entertainment.
If I were to tell you a story with fictional people in it, would you care to listen?
* * *
Long long ago… wait no that’s not right.
Once upon a time… nah too cliché.
There was once a… nope, too boring.
Let me start again.
…
…
…
Have you ever listen to instructions or rules like, for example, “don't be out too late” or “don’t go into that very dangerous area”? You might want to heed these warnings, for this particular creature.
She stalks the streets of quite towns in the night, and murders her victims in cold blood. The sounds of her grim reaper scythe scraping the floor, warns the children to hide under their blankets and Parents to lock the doors and shut the curtains. Don’t make yourself seen, or she’ll take your life with the sharp blade of her weapon. Her laughs echo to the ears of the strong, to make them go weak on their knees. Her red glowing eyes are the last thing her victims see before they are put to sleep. The look of her face is too much to handle, so no one hung up any posters of her on the notice board.
The thing is that no one knew who she was. She came out of nowhere. People say she was sent by the devil to punish the people for their sins. Others say she is just a cold heartless psychopath who want’s nothing, but blood.
There are many names for her, but the one name that stood out the most, was The Child of Death.
And you may never know, she might come and get you next!
**Author's Note:**
> This is the beginning of a new series, called "What it means to be Immortal". This is just the epilogue, but I separated it from the rest of the chapters, because this is going to be a multi-fandom fan fiction and I wanted each fandom to be a separate book (Example, Book One: MCU, Book 2: The Whoniverse, Book 3: The Star Wars Univers, etc).
>
> The main character is an Original Character that I made and she is based off of me.
>
> I do hope you will enjoy this series.
>
> \- Nebula |
a3937cbc283f4e0fb77c421136c82f29 | ['a70b51a65dac40db803a39a299925a94'] | Birdie pursed her lips and she slowly tore off the top of the envelope. "That's not too bad—" and she nearly choked when she pulled out the check.
Mister Ox blinked and he impatiently asked: "How much?"
"..."
His brows furrowed. "Birdie?"
"..."
Then he leaned over to investigate the dove's horrified silence. His red eyes grew wide when he saw the amount printed on the check. " _Holy shhh—!_ That's a lot of zeroes!"
Birdie was awestruck. Jackal had gotten a puny ¥40,000 whereas she got _ten thousand times_ that. She knew that popular heroes were paid well by the government, and also private companies for sponsorships and even advertisements. She even heard rumors that Hawks was quite the clever entrepreneur. However, the sight of _400 million yen_ on a single check made her brain short-circuit.
"Damn, Birdie!" Mister Ox reached over and ruffled the dove's ivory curls so roughly that Birdie's head jolted forward. "You won't hafta worry about money for the rest of your life with this! Doesn't mean you should stop working, but you can go ta college n' follow your dreams! Just like how your pops wanted!"
Birdie flinched at the mention of her father. She frowned, staring down at the check in her hands. She recognized the fine print. It was the same as the handwriting on the hospital form. Each character was written small, but with precision. It was for her, and the reason why was more than just compensation. His reason was clearly stated in the lower left-hand corner. It read: _for hurting you._
Birdie bit her lip, and slowly put the check back in the envelope. "...Mister Ox," then she faced the landlord, a pleading look in her emerald eyes.
Mister Ox's excited expression melted away, and he glared at her sternly. "Birdie, no," he shook his head. "You _need_ this money."
Birdie paused, collecting her thoughts. Her eyes were glued to the envelope resting in her lap. "...Yes, I am struggling," she admitted quietly. "But that doesn't mean I'm not surviving. There are a few things I can accept, but this isn't one of them."
Birdie swore on her parents' grave that she would earn what was lost with her own two hands, no matter how long it took. Accepting Hawks' check would go against that promise, especially with the reason he wrote. She didn't want there to be any misunderstandings. Not again.
And Mister Ox knew that.
The landlord exhaled sharply. "Damn it, Birdie," then out of frustration, he put the pickup truck in drive and merged into traffic.
Birdie closed her eyes and sighed. She knew Mister Ox only wanted the best for her, but she needed to do what was right. The envelope in her hands felt like a brick. It got heavier and heavier the longer she held it. It weighed a ton by the time she felt the rusty pickup truck come to a halt.
Birdie opened her eyes and looked out the window where she saw a large sign outside surrounded by manicured square shrubs. It was a large slab of black marble with sharp silver print welded onto the stone's smooth surface. It read _Bird's Eye View_ and below the words was a logo. It was the silhouette of a red hawk branded in a silver outline.
Mister Ox said nothing as Birdie got out.
There was a deep crease on his brow as he leaned back in his seat and let out a long sigh. His fists gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white.
Birdie smiled sadly. "I'm sorry..." she murmured as she shut the passenger's side door. Then she walked around the truck to the wide sidewalk.
The driver's side window rolled down. "Birdie," Mister Ox called out to her. When she looked back at him, she saw that he was glowing with relief. "I'm proud of ya. Your Pops would be, too."
His words gave her strength. Birdie's little white wings fluttered eagerly, and she clutched the envelope close to her chest. "Thank you," she bowed her head with a smile. Then she pivoted on her heel, facing the tall building before her.
The skyscraper brushed against the dark clouds, and thousands of glass windows reflected the colorful neon cityscape. Men and women in business suits trickled in and out of the building. They climbed up and down wide black marble stairs that burned with bright lights built into the steps. The dove followed the flow of business men and women through the building's large glass doors. Inside, soft jazz music drifted from the ceiling speakers and blended with the tiny murmur of men and woman discussing late night business.
The lobby was brightly lit and decorated with a modern chic. The flooring was a glossy ivory that reflected the world like a mirror, and the high ceiling was painted ebony black. The large light fixtures hanging from the ceiling had black rectangular shades that matched the leather sofas on the floor. The rectangular couches were arranged around glass coffee tables that had small bonsai trees and organized stacks of magazines on top.
Along the lobby's back wall was a wide receptionist desk that housed a row of nicely dressed women. Hanging from the wall above the women were thirteen large marble plaques imprinted with silver letters. Each one read the name of a business that resided within the building, but in the middle of the twelve signs was the red hawk logo.
Birdie took a deep breath in and out. Then she shuffled to the receptionist desk. | cb0bf3e0c7e042db89e4a1f42c592232 | ['a70b51a65dac40db803a39a299925a94'] | _The library was a small room, so the confetti covered every square inch. The sturdy wooden shelves were littered with tiny pieces of rectangular paper, and Aichki wiped away the confetti from the small circular table in the middle of the room. Then he helped Ameria onto one of the chairs before turning to the many shelves, pulling out a thick leather bound book._
_He straightened his posture and cleared his throat. "Now, child," his voice reverberated with firmness as he pivoted on his heel and opened the book. "First, let's review some history…" and he placed the book on the table, flipping through the worn, yellow pages._
_Ameria slouched in her seat, pouting at the comment._
_"You need to learn this history before we even start practicing magic," Aichki explained calmly, sitting down on a chair across from her. "History is important to know, especially when we have to learn from previous mistakes. Responsibility and caution are very important for any mage."_
_Ameria eyes drooped, and her head leaned to the side, resting on her shoulder._
_"Never misuse your magic," he told her sternly. "History has proven that mages who desire more power than they can handle will cause havoc and chaos. Our country is in turmoil because of a single man that made a deal with the devil."_
_Ameria closed her eyes and exhaled sharply._
_"Magic is a gift, a powerful tool," he continued. "But it should never be used for show, especially in the Outside World. The nobility of this world is not always strong, honorable leaders. They are greedy and violent, which has led to—"_
_Aichki continued the lecture, but it took awhile before he noticed Ameria had clocked out. The blank expression of his golden mask seemed to stare at her in disappointment. He sighed, closing the book on the table, which startled Ameria awake._
_"I think that's enough history for today," and he got up to put the book away. Then he looked back to the little child wiping sand from her eyes. "Come along now, we need to start gathering some tools and ingredients."_
_Ameria looked up at him, puzzled, and she sleepily asked: "Ingredients? Ingredients for treats, Uncle?"_
_Aichki down looked at her. Then he threw back his head, his hands on his stomach and the amulet around his neck danced with his laughter. "No, no, no," he chuckled and shook his head. "We need the ingredients for a spell…can't do magic without a familiar, now can you.?"_
_Ameria weary demeanor disappeared, gasping in delight, and she leapt off her chair and raced through the confetti and out the door._
_"Wait, Meri—!" Aichki called out for her, chasing after her. "You don't even know—"_
_"Bones!" Ameria shouted, stopping briefly to look back at him with a grin, and her feet bounced eagerly against the tiled floor. "Chicken Bones!"_
_Then she bounded away with a bright grin on her lips…_
…which left Ameria smiling fondly at the memories that flooded back when she held the fragment in her hands.
Then she frowned and clutched the golden piece in her hands.
**B-A-N-G**
The sound of the sickbay's door slamming against the wall startled her, and the medical assistant, too. Brodie, who had his nose buried in his notes snapped his head up and prepared a scornful glare, but his eyes opened wide when he saw who it was.
It was the captain of the Flevance, the surgeon carrying an odd array of items. Tucked under his arm was three heavy textbooks that looked worn to the core and in the other he held—weirdly enough—an orange plastic bucket. Law strolled into the room, dropping the books carelessly onto her lap, making her squeal in surprise as she hurriedly lifted Shnell above her head so he wouldn't get crushed. Then the surgeon threw the bucket at her, making the bone mage drop her small familiar on her head as she scrambled to catch the object thrown ungracefully towards her.
Her brows furrowed in confusion as she looked in the bucket, seeing a collection of dust bunnies that must have been swept from the deepest, most untouched corner of the submarine.
Law then plopped back down on the stool beside her cot. He placed his right calf atop his left thigh, balancing it so his elbow had a solid place to rest while his hand cradled his cheek. "I found something to keep you productive for the next few days," he purred silkily with a smirk on his lips; he looked like a Cheshire cat with a devious plan in mind.
Ameria eyed him warily, but then turned her attention towards the books clustered on her lap. She picked one up, the palm of her hand brushing against the green velvet cover as she read the title aloud. "The Memoirs of Bones by the Tulip?"
"_Oooh!_" Brodie gasped, giddy with excitement. "That's an excellent text on skeletal structure. Tulip really knows her way with words; it's like you're not even reading a textbook but a novel!"
Ameria frowned and thought, _that's probably why it has a cheesy-ass name_.
"It should be easy for you to understand, Miss Bones," Law mused, his fingertips drumming against his cheeks. "After what I saw on Amazon Lily, I have noted that you need much practice on the skeletal systems of all animals, ranging from humans to beasts. Lucky for you, I so happen to be an expert in all of them, including some of the mythical types." |
240824e159074038982ad5299fd16e25 | ['a71a97688878461fbb2449edc2e0c6d9'] | Lance’s body turned as if it was meant to do this in this very moment, the ocean breeze blowing through his hair, the sunlight illuminating his body behind him; his skin had a radiance like no other Keith had ever seen. The sun began to dip into the sea with each moment passing. Lance hadn’t even realized he’d let go of Keith’s hand until this moment, as an expression full of warmth graced Lance’s features and he held a hand out towards Keith.
“Come in the water with me.”
Keith had already taken the liberty of putting Lance’s shoes a good distance away from the water, and placing his own beside them. He also decided it was a good plan to slip his phone into one of his boots so it wouldn’t get wet.
The way that Lance’s eyes were enchanted by the movement of the water confirmed to Keith exactly how his plan was going to play out. Reaching down, he began to roll up his pants, Lance copying his action so neither of them would risk getting wet. Taking his hand, Keith followed Lance into the shallow water. Lance was mesmerized by the way the water danced around his ankles, flooding him with delight. Pointing towards something he caught a glimpse of, Lance tried to attract Keith’s attention to it. That attempt was futile. Keith couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from the enchanting boy beside him.
Swallowing hard, Keith could feel his hands begin to tremble and his heart raced as he thought of what he was about to do. Lance was hand in hand with him, amongst of the cool waters of the ocean with the sun setting in the distance. Lance had never looked more stunning than in that moment, as Keith watched him wander through the shallows of the ocean shore. Keith took a deep breath as he reached over and grabbed Lance’s other hand, tearing his eyes away from the waters back to where they truly belonged. The moment their eyes met, the spark shared between them only burned brighter, falling in love all over again. Lance could never get over the sharp gaze of Keith’s eyes, the sunset lighting them up as if he was already peering into the night sky.
“Hey Lance?”
“Yeah?” Lance blinked up at Keith, his eyes wide, a soft smile playing across his lips. God he was beautiful. Freckles splattered like stardust across his golden skin. Eyes warm and full of true love as he stared unafraid, soul bared, into Keith's eyes. Keith could kiss him right there, but he had to wait.
“You know… when you came into my life it was like… nothing around me felt real. Your stories, the way that you acted and handled things was just.. So odd. Something I had well… never seen before. The way you see the world, the good you see in people even when they’re at each others necks. It wasn’t something I had encountered before. I… I didn’t think it was possible. I had been stuck in what I had seen as reality for so long, I forgot to see the light along the edges. You taught me that even the dullest of things have some good to them. I thought people like you only existed in fantasy, which I mean… isn’t completely untrue.” Keith paused a nervous laugh escaping him as a lump developed in his throat; he was doing everything in his power to keep calm with those eyes locked onto him. He couldn’t mess this up now.
Lance listened to Keith’s words, receiving small reminders of when he first arrived. How he had fallen right into his arms the moment they met, kickstarting everything. It was a memory full of fondness, and only added warmth into his expression. He had no idea what Keith’s words would entail, but they only made his heart flutter more with each one.
“Lance you… you steal my attention without even having to try.” Releasing one of his hands, Keith brushed a strand of of Lance’s hair behind his ear. He pulled his hand back forward, tracing a thumb against his cheek as he continued to speak. He had learned how to show Lance he loved him, but all Keith wanted was to flat out say it.
“Those are some of the things that… made me fall in love with you. With each day I learn more things I love about you. I’m… I’m still learning. There’s more things I want to keep learning with you… forever.” Keith moved his hand down, beginning to slide it into his pocket as he continued. His heart was pounding against his chest, worried that his hands would be too clammy and he’d drop the ring. Tons of different thoughts were flowing through his head and he knew if he didn’t do it right then he wasn’t sure he’d still have the courage. This was happening today, one way or another.
“Lance, will you—”
The hopes of leaving the beach without getting wet were ruined, due to the their attention being stuck on each other. Lance, with this being his first time in the ocean, didn’t anticipate how strong the waves could be, mostly because they were calm at first. A yelp escaped him first, which Keith barely heard before a wave that was strong enough to throw Lance off kilter came crashing down on them. This made him grab onto Keith’s arm desperately, only for his footing to be off and to fall straight into the water, pulling Keith down with him. Lance’s back lay square against the wet sand, the splash the action caused throwing some of the salty liquid into his mouth. That wasn’t the most pleasant of tastes, but it was there whether or not he wanted it. | f816e9a5fa9d490483b2ff8d4df29b5b | ['a71a97688878461fbb2449edc2e0c6d9'] | Lance was at a loss, his expression back to that rather stunned one like whenever Romelle initially arrived, but he needed to give an answer. Reality really was cruel. He glanced over at Keith, before his eyes moved back to her and he spoke up.
“No…. Of… Of course. Go right ahead.”
_“If I should lose you now”_
It was almost as if now the song was playing against him, as Lance watched Romelle return to his side, taking his hand as they walked off of the ballroom floor back towards the stairs. Both Keith and Lance gave lingering gazes towards each other that the other didn’t see. Now having Allura back in front of him, he only stared at her with lackluster, rather than how it was previous to that long moment he shared with Lance.
_“We're so close to reaching_
_That famous happy end_
_Almost believing_
_This one's not pretend”_
As he made his way up the steps, it was becoming impossible to hold back the emotions that were only building up more and more the farther away he got from Keith. Without even realizing it tears had began to well up in his eyes and trickle their way down his cheeks. It was only getting worse the longer it went on, know that Keith was with Allura rather than him. Nothing was more painful that the feeling he was dealing with right then.
“Oh.. Lance… Are you alright? Are you… sad?”
“What? O-Oh.. me? No… I… I’m fine.”
Lance croaked out, his voice trembling as he spoke, watching as Romelle went off to go get a wrap she had brought to this. He turned to look back towards Keith, his eyes tracking him down as soon as they met with the ballroom floor again, only for the most heart wrenching sight to enter his vision as soon as he did.
_“So close… So close…”_
Allura was kissing him. Allura was kissing Keith and there was nothing he could do about it. Lance couldn’t fix this situation or change it to work in his favor no matter how badly he hoped to be able to. He belonged to her. He always would. Keith was right. Dreams… don’t come true.
_“And still so far…”_
Lance didn’t get much chance to stew on it before his train of thought was interrupted by a sudden yet familiar voice. Quickly turning his eyes wide when he caught sight of who it was, the very person that was the reason he ever ended up here in the first place.
“I’m so glad to see you my child… I was ever so worried about what had happened to you. Finding you was quite a task you see, your ending up here was a terrible accident that brought you to such an awful place and well… I wanted to offer you a solution for your problems, if I may. Oh… To never be with the one you love. How cruel isn’t it? Destined to be stuck with another, for the rest of your life. What do you think? Wouldn’t you like to make it all just…”
Lotor, who was in disguise as the old man who had tricked Lance in the first place reached into his robe, pulling out a single apple and holding it out in his direction. Nodding a bit he began to reassure him that this would fix everything exactly as he wished for it to.
“Go away. Just one bite will make all of the memories disappear. The life you had here, the people you met… nothing at all. Just gone. Only sweet dreams, and happy memories.”
Lance didn’t know what to think, how to feel about the severity of the situation; let alone trusting someone who had already betrayed him once. None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for this man, and yet he was offering to take it all away. Make it so he’d never have to think about the fact that he wouldn’t be able to be with Keith, no matter how much he yearned for him. All of that wishing and dreaming of a true love’s kiss was rendered pointless the moment his love moved from the woman he barely knew, to the man who truly showed him kindness.
He glanced back towards the dance floor, only able to watch from a distance as Keith danced with Allura, no longer being the one within arms distance. The one who received the direct contact, being able to feel his warm but rough skin against his own, and how it warmed him to the core every time. It was just Allura. Keith had Allura. Keith always had Allura. Allura was there long before he even arrived how could he even allow himself slip right into his trap of dreaming of a happily ever after, when all he wanted was the one he’d never get. Keith belonged to Allura, and that wouldn’t change.
The apple was presented in front of him once more, interrupted his longing stare towards Keith as he stared at his own reflection on the fruit.
“Hurry now. You must take a bite before the clock strikes 12, or else it will not work.”
Taking the apple into his hands, he stared into it beginning to contemplate whether or not this was the right choice. By doing this he’d forget Keith forever, but by not doing this he’d remember the fact that he’d never be with Keith. Both sides were horribly painful, but not being with Keith was something he couldn’t live with, not with the way it only made every moment in his life miserable now. Everything had changed and the worth in keeping those memories, even the last ones he had just made was lower than he had expected.
“Hurry. Unless you really want to be stuck with them forever?” |
22c0892145ec4711a43cf1132f22e0f8 | ['a7249fb7b13e46da81ef248f1b56e914'] | "Just... you know.. Wanted to look good?" He offered, Nikki looked him up and down, smiling again.
"You do look nice." She said and sat down on the chair, closing her eyes again.
"Where's everyone?" Asked Dean, tugging on his t-shirt and throwing it on a nearby chair.
"Brie and Daniel are in line on one of the water slides," Nikki started without opening her eyes "Randy, Cody, and Ted are somewhere in the 'lazy river' or whatever it's called, and no one else has showed up" She finished.
"I told you we weren't the last ones to get here." Seth said.
"I'm going to go hit the water slides too." He said walking off, leaving Seth and Nikki alone. Seth started to get a little nervous, he had practiced a whole speech and everything on what he was going to say to Nikki, but standing there next to her, he suddenly didn't even know how to begin. He passed a hand through his hair sighing deeply. This was it, he thought, this is the moment when I confess and hope for the best.
"Aren't you going to change?" Nikki asked him, pulling him out of his thoughts.
"What?" He said looking down to his clothes "Oh! Right, right. I am" he continued, grabbing his backpack and walking to the bathroom.
This is good, he thought he could get a breather to put his thoughts together, and remember the things he was going to say. He sighed again, trying to come up with the best way to say what he needed to say. He could feel himself getting nervous and a little sweaty, but he could blame the sweat on the heat. Once he entered the bathroom he took off his shoes and socks and pull out some sandals. He was eager to get out of the bathroom and just get this over with, so he hurried to one of the changing rooms there. He was so immersed in changing that he didn't notice the puddle of water on the floor, he almost fell to the ground, almost because from behind he could feel a pair of strong arms holding him up, preventing his fall. He was a little startled and as he try to stand up right a voice asked:
"Are you ok man?" The voice was low, and judging from the proximity Seth knew it was from the guy that had helped him just now. Seth turned around and his breath caught in his throat, as he saw the guy. He didn't know if the sound he made next was a gasp or what, and as the guy eyed him more closely, for what seemed like a long time Seth didn't even know what the guy had ask. Recollecting his thoughts and straighting up he said a weak 'yeah' the other guy nodded and turned to walk out, only to turn around again and say "Just be careful were you walk" and gave Seth the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.
He stared at the door, dumbfounded. He didn't know what that was, he thought that he had been startled because he nearly fell and not because of the guy that had helped him. With that thought he turned back around, making sure to see where he was stepping and grabbing the wall as to not slip again, and entered one of the changing rooms.
2. Complications and confusion
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> The day went by quickly without any further incidents, and Seth was glad that the time for going back home was near. He was also getting a little frustrated because between being out with his friends and his little incident in the bathroom, his whole plan had gone awry. Seth had to mentally scold himself for ever thinking that a place like a water park was a good place to confess to someone.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Excessive use of "that guy" and "the guy" lol | 0d60c921899640a4bbb5395bf31c2088 | ['a7249fb7b13e46da81ef248f1b56e914'] | The music volume turned up again and the stage was illuminated by some lights. The song changed from it’s fast paced beat to one that was slower but could still be danced to. Seth’s eyes went wide and he gasped when he saw the dancer on the stage. It was Roman. Wearing some very thight jeans and suspenders with no shirt on. His hair was up in a bun that he quickly got rid of, that alone made a lot of girls squeal and whistle. Seth looked over at Dean and realized he wasn’t even paying attention, he was too busy making out with the blonde to even know what was happening around him, a particularly loud shout made Seth turned around again. Roman was now dancing and nothing Seth had imagined compared to the real thing. Sure he had only imagined Roman dancing once, but seeing it in person was so different, and he definitely liked it. What is happening to me? he thought. He watched as Roman moved rotating his hips while playing with the suspenders, his hair flowing around his arms, he turned around slowly holding on to the suspenders and once he was facing the crowd again he passed both of his hands through his hair. Seth found himself wanting to run his hands through Roman’s hair too. Roman then dropped down to his knees and used his hands to support himself while he trusted his hips up. He sat up a bit then, still kneeling he ran his hands through his hair again but this time he continued down to his chest and torso, he trusted up a couple more times before he got up and took the suspenders off along with his pants, more whistles and screams were heard and Seth couldn’t take his eyes off of Roman, who was now only wearing really tight shorts that covered only what seemed necessary. He was enthralled by Roman’s movements, that is until for some reason Roman looked his way, and spotted him. He stared at him for a moment and winked, he fucking winked and Seth decided that going to the restroom at that point was the best course of action. So without any explanation to Dean, who wasn’t even paying attention to him anyway, he got up and walked towards the bathrooms.
Seth walked into the bathroom and was relieved to see that they were empty. He was well aware of the side effects of watching Roman dancing as he looked down at his crotch. He muttered a fuck and looked at himself in one of the mirrors above the sink get it together Seth, he thought as he splashed cold water on his face. He closed his eyes and shook his head as he tried to think of something other than Roman. The thing was that as aroused as he was at having watched Roman dancing, he was still so confused about the whole thing. He couldn’t deny that he found Roman attractive, anyone with a good eyesight could see just how attractive he was. But Seth’s lack of experience on dating made him question his interest in Roman. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, he had opted for wearing it down, but with the dancing it had gotten sweaty and he decided to put it up in a bun before leaving the bathroom.
All thoughts of Roman vanished when he walked to the table Dean was seating at. Before he reached it he saw that Alicia and Dean were standing face to face and it was clear they were having an argument. He could also see Johnny and Dean’s new friend standing right there with them, looking slightly out of place like they didn’t know what to do. Johnny also looked pissed and Seth walked faster to them.
“You are so full of shit!” Seth heard Alicia yell once he reached them.
“Whatever,” Dean said and he tried to turn around to end the argument but was caught by Alicia’s hand on his shoulder.
“Oh hell no!” She yelled again “You ain’t walking away from me”
“What’s going on?” Seth asked startling both of them. Dean avoided Seth’s gaze so he turned to Alicia.
“You’re brother is being an ass as usual,” She said and he turned to Dean
“What happened Dean?” He asked a little exasperated.
“Is nothing, ok?” Dean shouted looking at Seth, he then turned to Alicia and said “Why don’t you just go back to your table with Mr Douchebag here” He pointed to Johnny and Seth almost punched him in the face. Almost because as soon as he said it Johnny stepped up past Seth pushing Dean who stumbled backward hitting the table behind him. Dean composed himself and pushed Johnny back and Seth positioned himself between them in an effort to stop the fight that would inevitably break; but the fight was already there because as soon as he stepped between them he was received with a punch to the jaw by Johnny.
“You son of a bitch!” Seth heard Dean screamed and through his pain he tried to stop Dean for making this into a bigger deal than it already was. He grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back slightly. |
60ef3a7a92ac40ecac7e86c6e330b6b7 | ['a7364fbcd78746a4ba28f12a685066ac'] | Captain America now looked a bit pissed, though I could see him trying to go back to being more neutral. "Unfortunately, we can't be sure if Hydra will try and bring you back in again. We know you would be worried about guards, spies or similar personal potentially being under the influence of the organisation so we decided-"
"We will be keeping you in our base until we're certain they can't or won't go after you again." Black Widow finished for him.
I curled my fist, processing that for a moment. They wanted to study and watch after me like I was some sort of- sort of _pet_! That really was the best way to describe it, I had always been a fucking pet project. Tug the leash this way and they'll be a better Ultimate in the future.
"Great, then I'll have been held against my will for the third fucking time," I growled, venom lacing every word.
Black Widow stood up, "We know you don't want to-"
I glared up at her, daggers in my eyes that made even her hesitate. "None of you have learned anything, have you? This right here is what got me caught last time, everyone else deciding what poor old traumatised Miles needs!"
"Kid, it's not like that. We just want to help-"
"Fuck off Tony, believe it or not, you really don't need to feel responsible for me. Actually, I would prefer it if you didn't give a fuck. I got myself home just fine the first time and I was just in the process of that again before you fuckers showed up dressed up in military gear. All you did was edge me along like a fucking circus clown." I grit my teeth. "Don't bother talking to me unless you want to actually negotiate what will happen with me. I'm not a child, despite what I look like."
I looked down at the sheets covering my legs as they all left.
I ignored the sting of tears slipping down the side of my face.
* * *
Less than an hour later, my stomach heavily protested the food I had been given. With the room empty, I was able to slip into the bathroom I had seen earlier that was connected to this space without being questioned. I closed the door before falling to my knees and vomiting everything up into the toilet.
The pain was excruciating, my throat burning and my stomach muscles aching after being used for the first time in a long time.
But I had had worse pain.
I wiped at the sides of my mouth, got up, flushed the toilet (ignoring the traces of the familiar bluey-green liquid mixed with the red of the jelly) and then cleaned my face and hands. No one had to know.
No one would know.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Alrighty, first chapter!
>
> I've decided to post this now but I'm not going to post anything more of the story until I've finished at least half of it. Which might be awhile cause I'm aiming for 150,000 words.
>
> Any feedback, spelling errors or grammatical errors I would love to hear! It's what keeps a writer pumpin ;)
2. Read end Note
_ I struggled to breathe, but that was normal. _
_ I gasped for air I wouldn't get - like a fish on land. _
_ Ha. _
_ It wasn't like I needed to breathe, I knew that, but breathing was like blinking and I couldn't stop inhaling the... the stuff in this thing like it was air. _
_ I felt like I was drowning, but I wasn't. _
_ I felt lightheaded, but that was just my body freaking out a little bit. _
_ I felt weak... but that was normal. _
_ I had two hands against the glass, head limp between them. _
_ I couldn't do anything, I had tried everything to get the glass to break but I was so weak. _
_ My spider-sense wasn't working and god that scared me more than anything. It was like hearing or seeing to me, and it was terrifying without it. _
_ I had no idea when the scientists would walk back in here, because I had no way to tell. _
_ And I was scared. _
_ I was so freaking scared, I had fucked up and now I had been here... _
_ I didn't know how long I had been here. _
_ I never had any idea of how long I had been here. _
_ I didn't want to think about how long I had been here. _
_ That was terrifying. _
_ I was scared. _
_ The people here, if they really were who I was nearly certain they were, they had all the power and now I was stuck in a... _
_ I was stuck in a room that was cold, dark and empty, the... my little home thing right in the corner while the room was stacked high with boxes and what I could only guess was scientific devices. _
_ I was another tool in the tool box, only brought out when needed. _
_ I didn't know how to feel about that. _
_ I couldn't guess at how long time passed because the scientists kept odd hours, often coming in here at random points to take a bit of my skin or something similar then leaving. In and out in ten minutes or something close. _
_ I couldn't make a guess through any other method; the lights didn't stay on and switch off at regular points. And I didn't need to eat. I never felt hungry and I just knew that this... liquid thing in here was the cause behind it. It was probably why I was so weak too. _ | caeeead9246547eca476ad6077eb240d | ['a7364fbcd78746a4ba28f12a685066ac'] | I knew I should be more patient about these things–I was basically looking for a needle in a haystack, but I slammed a fist into the side of the drawers in frustration. Peter jumped.
“You okay?” he asked, frowning down at me.
“I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m just a kid looking for a DVD when I don’t know if it’s still around. Maybe he burned it!” I told him, flinging my arms out.
“If he did, then that’s okay. You know you can call the police and explain what you’ve discovered already, right?” he whispered, floating down to sit in front of me.
I brought my knees up to my chest, folding my arms on top of them and putting my head on them.
“How do I explain how I found your body? How do I explain what I know? How do I explain my motivations? The police probably won’t even care. You died so many years ago,” I mumbled, eyes staring at my feet rather than his face. I didn’t want to see his disappointment in me.
He put a hand on my knee, going corporeal for a few seconds. “I know it’s frustrating, but you know you don’t have to solve my case. I’m fine with you and I being friends and hanging out until you leave school.”
“You shouldn’t be! You shouldn’t be okay with that. Be selfish for once!” I exclaimed, my hands tightening into a fist. “Who knows if there’ll ever be another me wanting to help you? And who knows if they’ll even be able to solve it!”
Peter stared me in the eyes for a long moment, searching me. I stood there, breathing heavily and on the verge of tears. I would stand by my words, Peter deserved none of what had happened to him.
Peter broke eye contact first. “You’re stressed out about this. C’mon, I’ll help you look as much as I can,” he whispered, voice croaking. He got up and floated up to look at the higher shelves before I could protest.
I sighed and went to the next drawer.
It was another five minutes of searching, tense silence between us, before Peter exclaimed, “I think I’ve found something!”
When I looked over, Peter had mustered some of his energy to pick up a DVD and float it down to where I could grab it.
I flicked it over, there were no markings on it. “You sure?”
“It’s the only thing I’ve been able to find. And think about it–if Mr Grant was trying to cover up what he did he wouldn’t put any suspicious markings on it.” Peter explained, folding his arms.
I grinned, “Alright, let’s watch this thing.”
* * *
I had to book a computer at the library, so it took until the next night to look it through. The whole day I had been anxiously waiting to do it, restlessness growing with every minute that passed.
Even Bob had commented on it, and he was normally oblivious. I didn’t know how to explain it to him without seeming slightly insane, so I didn’t.
When the bell for the end of the day _ finally _ rang I raced to the library—leading to a few odd stares—and grabbed the nearest computer after signing in.
I grabbed the DVD out of my bag (I had even wrapped it in bubble wrap for good measure) and waited for the computer to upload.
This was it, the moment of truth. Would we finally have the evidence I needed?
Peter came floating through the floor, and for once I didn’t jump.
“Hey Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater, how you doin’?” I greeted.
He shrugged, looking over my shoulder. “I’m much more interested in this, how long do these things take to boot up, anyway?”
“Way too long, way too long. The school is poor and can’t afford new ones. It sucks,” I whined.
Peter smirked, “Back in my day~!”
“Don’t you start on me! After all the nice things I’ve done for you, this is the way you thank me? Betrayal! Betrayal I say!”
“Yeah, yeah, whine and complain. The computer’s done,” he said, pointing at the screen.
I leaned forward in my chair, putting the disc in and clicking around until finally I had the DVD’s files up. It had the surveillance of every school hall sorted in different folders. When I clicked into the basement one I found myself staring at a boring long, twenty-four-hour video.
I groaned.
“Just skip to later that day. I died in the afternoon. I’m pretty sure,” Peter said.
I nodded, “That helps a lot. I don’t think three hours is enough to go through all of this.”
* * *
Even by speeding up the video and clicking through it, it still took forever to find Peter walking through the corridor.
“Found you!” I said, grabbing my notebook and pen from my bag as quickly as I could. I had it out just in time to pause the video as he entered the basement.
Peter went quiet, but for now, I decided not to bother him.
Finally, after a couple of minutes, Mr Grant came into frame. He looked younger, but he still had that scowl that I had never seen him without.
“Wow, he really hasn’t changed at all,” I commented as I marked down the time he went in.
Peter huffed a small laugh, “You’ve got that right. I honestly think he’s a vampire or something.”
“Why would he even kill you?” I asked murmured, rubbing the back of my neck as I tried to come up with some reason why he would do it.
“No idea,” He paused then looked down at the ground. I could tell something was eating at him but before I could press about it, he continued. “I was openly bisexual. Maybe that?” He admitted with a sad laugh. |
643d5c342a134053aa39d196a42a8e17 | ['a758f21258564cf69a9fe972c64806b6'] | Breathing a soft laugh, Felicity pulled the tie out of her hair and rocked her hips against his, leaning down to tease his open mouth with hers. “I was thinking we could test your flexibility in ways your physical therapist might not approve of.”
Tommy tipped his chin back, chasing her mouth as she flicked her tongue against his lower lip. “Yes, please.”
58. Sparkling Limeade
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Oliver and Felicity attend Sara Diggle's fifth birthday party.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Written for Julandran, who prompted "sparkling limeade" and did not get what she wanted, sadly, because I'd never heard of it before.
"What _is_ that?” Felicity asked in fascinated horror.
Oliver stood beside her and stared at the punchbowl of fizzy, neon-green… liquid. Beverage? Possibly nuclear waste. “Uh…”
"Sparkling limeade," Digg drawled as he wandered up on the other side of the snack table. He held a little clear plastic cup of the _stuff_ and raised it to his lips as he flickered droll eyebrows at his friends. He sipped—and grimaced. “You two _will_ drink it. It’s her favorite, and god help me _you_ are her favorites. Do _not_ hurt my kid’s feelings.”
Felicity wrinkled her nose and held her hand out as Digg poured her a cup of _sparkling limeade_. “Where _is_ the birthday girl? It’s hard to tell the mob apart into individual tiny screaming hobgoblins.”
"Did you just call my daughter a hobgoblin?" Lyla asked smoothly, stepping up beside her husband with a crooked polka-dot party hat strapped to her head.
Felicity’s mouth fell open and she flushed, quickly filling her gaping mouth with _sparkling limeade_.
Oliver hastily interceded. “Of course not! Just the other ones.” He grinned too toothily and stuck his hand out. “Lyla! You look fantastic, we love the short hair.”
She plunked a plastic cup into Oliver’s open hand, her lips pursed in amusement. “Mhmm. You know, one day you’re going to get overeager and forget a condom, and then it’ll be _you two_ stuck in child-party hell playing host.”
Felicity and Diggle choked on their fizzy drinks as if they had coordinated for highest comedic affect, and Oliver fishmouthed at Lyla, color and heat rising in his face as she snickered and walked away towards the kitchen.
Clearing his throat and stifling a smirk, Diggle coughed, “I’m going to go help her with the cake.”
Felicity and Oliver eyeballed each other, both blushing, over the rims of their cups. They both wrinkled their noses at the taste of the drink and laughed together.
Grinning Felicity reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together. He drew her closer and she tilted her chin back to smile at him. “Just so you know, much as I love you, we are _not_ doing this,” she gestured towards the mob of four to six year olds battling with inflatable swords, “ _any_ time soon. If at all.”
Oliver smirked, edging close enough to put her feet between his so he could dip his head and kiss her softly. “It’s a good thing we’re never too eager to be _forgetful_ then.”
Felicity ran her bottom lip through her teeth, wiggling her eyebrows up at him. “Just wait until we get home…”
"Hey!" Roy sidled up, paper crinkle streamers decorating his hair and shoulders. Eyebrows high and disapproving, he shook his head at Oliver and Felicity. "Not where the kids can see you."
59. Just Tonight
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Felicity and Oliver share a bed for one night only and take advantage of the opportunity.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Prompted by shipreally "hair touching/smelling"
It was just for the night.
Just for this one night.
Oliver swallowed hard and reminded himself over and over that this wasn’t real, wasn’t permanent, couldn’t last, was only for _now_.
It only made him tighten the arm around Felicity’s waist, pulling her closer in against him as she slept.
The bed was small, he reasoned, and he was a large man. He just didn’t want her to fall off.
It had _nothing_ to do with how every inch of skin on skin lit his nerve endings up like a Christmas tree. He definitely wasn’t savoring the way she wiggled to get more comfortable (her ass rubbing dangerously into his hips), or the way she ran a hand up and down his forearm before snuggling her face deeper into the pillow with a contented sigh.
He certainly wasn’t burying his nose into her damp, curly hair to inhale the fruity scent of her leave-in conditioner. His face was just… warm.
Warm because she _kept pushing her ass into his crotch_.
He was definitely beginning to develop a… situation.
Oliver inhaled sharply, lungs full of citrus and strawberry, biting his lip and letting his forehead fall against her shoulder as he struggled to master himself.
"Oliver," he started at the throaty, sleep-roughened murmur of her voice. The hand on his arm squeezed. "You okay?"
"Um. Yeah," he breathed, strangled. "Did I wake you?"
Felicity shifted against the sheets, and he breathed in sharp through his nose, holding very still as her palm slid down his wrist to cover the back of his hand. Her backside brushed over him again, and she stilled. “Uh. I think—I think actually I woke _you_.”
Oliver swallowed thickly and bit down on a soft curse. “Felicity. I’m sorry, I should sleep on the floor, I just—um. It’s… a small bed, and you’re—and I’m—we’re, uh—”
"Oliver," there was a little laughter in her voice, and he winced, wondering if she was enjoying letting someone else ramble embarrassingly this time. Her fingers threaded between his against her stomach, and he blinked into her hair in surprise. "I’m good here. If you are." | 79dc31098b43459db2ca606568eda797 | ['a758f21258564cf69a9fe972c64806b6'] | Oliver’s brows pulled together and he seemed to search for something in Tommy’s eyes. Whatever he found there, or didn’t, his shoulders deflated with a heavy sigh and his chin dipped in a short nod. “Okay. Okay.”
If Tommy had thought the weight of Oliver’s guilt might break him, what followed was _crushing_. Oliver’s lips flickered, his eyes lightening, crinkling at the corners. Slowly, a smile spread over Oliver’s face like a dawning, bright and breathtaking in its relief and joy. A small, faintly disbelieving laugh spilled out of his mouth, and he reached for Tommy’s hand, squeezing it like it was all he could do to touch him so _little_. “You’re _here_. That’s what matters.”
Tommy stared at Oliver, mouth slackening, and felt as if his heart in his chest were a lump of ugly, blackened coal, slowly, slowly sinking, a dirty weight in his gut.
Oliver swept the beam of his smile over to Felicity, and Tommy turned to her as well, stricken, helpless. “You’re both… _here_.”
Felicity paled under the light of Oliver’s happiness, and for a moment, Tommy felt united with her in horror, in shame, in weakness.
But then Felicity pulled trembling lips into a smile to give back to Oliver, her eyes sheening with tears. She had to look away quickly, eyes closing and a hand pressing to her mouth.
Oliver cleared his throat and took a deep breath, finally releasing Tommy’s hand.
Cold, Tommy pulled into himself.
“I’m gonna get you more stuff,” Oliver blurted abruptly.
Tommy’s head and brows rose sharply, confusion wrinkling his brow. “Uh… okay?”
A chagrined grin flashed across Oliver’s lips. “Sorry. Clothes. Stuff like that. If there’s anything specific you need… shampoo…?” He made an awkward, vague hand gesture that curled the corner of Tommy’s mouth helplessly, the corners of his eyes creasing. “I can do a run tomorrow. I know you always had, um. Preferences.”
Tommy snorted softly, a soft, familiar old warmth settling across his shoulders like a blanket, thin and well-worn. “It’s called personal grooming, buddy. The products matter.”
Oliver’s smile was slow, a welcoming home. “You know me. Soap is soap.” They smiled at each other for a beat, and then Oliver ducked his head, throat clearing. “Anyways. We’ll get everything figured out soon. Tomorrow. For tonight…” His smile dimmed, disappeared, leaving him sober and faintly sad. “It’s best you stay here.”
Something in Oliver’s eyes twigged Tommy to his train of thought, and he sat up straight. “Out of sight,” he clarified. “Because I’m still technically dead.”
Oliver flinched, and Tommy _wished_ he felt more sorry for it. “It’s just for now,” he reasoned, but it sounded to Tommy more like pleading. “There’s a cot.” He gestured towards the shadowed back of the foundry, the motion faintly desperate. “I’ve slept on it. It’s comfortable enough. There’s some things in the mini fridge.”
“Sure,” he said flatly. “Of course.” The irony struck him; Felicity freed, it was Tommy’s turn to be secreted away underground. “I’ve had worse than a little alone time.”
The skin around Oliver’s eyes and mouth tightened, his expression pained at the reminder. “We’ll figure this all out soon.”
“Actually,” Laurel broke in, stepping into the conversation like she’d been waiting for her cue. “Maybe not so alone? I’d… like to stay awhile, if that’s okay.”
Tommy turned to her with surprise and not a little trepidation. His eyes dropped to her throat, the ugly marks he’d left on her skin there darkening, and swallowed hard. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
She drew a deep breath, shoulders going up and back and chin lifting, making her neck long and the bruises obvious; she was Dinah Laurel Lance. She wasn’t going to hide those bruises. Or from him. “I’m sure. You weren’t in control of yourself before. The circumstances were… unique.” She pursed her lips, then smiled tightly. “I don’t think it’s going to happen again. Besides…”
Her lashes fluttered against a rush of wet sheening her eyes and she lifted a hand, stepping carefully forward to close the distance between them. Tommy held himself almost painfully still, his hands trembling where he fisted them against his thighs. Laurel’s fingertips brushed feather-light against his cheek, lips parting as if she were stunned to touch skin.
“We just got you back.” Her smile flickered larger, smaller, unsure but unfading. “I need to look at you a little bit longer.”
Tommy just looked at her, swallowing the lump in his throat.
Laurel excused herself briefly to the bathroom, eyes damp and spine stiff, and Felicity rose from her chair to join him and Oliver.
Tommy’s heart raced inexplicably, his fingers twitching as she stopped inches away.
She looked at Oliver.
“You ready to go?” Oliver asked her softly, a little doubt, maybe a little disappointment in his voice.
Felicity gave him a short, reluctant nod, wincing. “I just—” her shoulders shifted uncomfortably. “I—I want to be… not underground.”
Tommy’s eyes shut and he bowed his head, absorbing the words like a muffled blow. He inhaled deeply, then let it go, and felt strangely a little more settled, even as a quiet static of anxiety whispered behind his lungs at the thought of Felicity leaving.
The thought cut off abruptly and Tommy startled as Felicity’s fingers pressed against his wrist. He lifted his head only just in time—
Felicity stepped close, leaned in, lifted her arms—and hugged him.
Tommy’s breath stopped in his throat, hands lifting and freezing in shock as Felicity leaned against him, arms circling his neck loosely.
For a moment, he was nothing but fear.
His muscles froze, his nerves flayed raw, and he waited—waited for the bite of fingernails, for the choking grip—for the cut of the knife.
Felicity tightened one arm around his shoulders, and cupped the other hand against his nape. Her cheek pressed to his jaw, his ear, and her breath shivered down his back. |
6abe72f182584f3db0daefb24d2980ed | ['a767f414307d47a38e38b6f4850b635a'] | Jaehyun was smiling while looking at me, his eyes encouraging me to make the big announcement. Words were stuck in my throat and they could never express just how wonderful I felt, instead I showed him my beautiful white ring that was resting on my finger, like there was no better place where it could be, fitting perfectly. However, I could see Inguk’s face pale at the news, disbelief floating into his dark eyes. So I added “We are getting married!”, filling the silence that was killing all of us. I did not understand why he was so confused, but what he said next startled me. He sustained that it was not the perfect moment to get married and that he will never support us. After that he just stormed out the door. I looked at my fiancée, and he looked back at me, both of us being incapable of understanding what has just happened.
Did he feel betrayed? We are all best friends, so he may feel like we are abounding him, leaving him behind while we will build our own family. At least that’s what Jaehyun said while hugging me under the covers, his warm hands caressing my back. He seemed calm, trying to find some kind of an excuse for Inguk’s behavior, but I knew it was just a mask. He was as much affected by his burst as I was.
Why would he feel like that? We were never going to move on without him. We were always together, and we will always be. I’ll try talking to him tomorrow.
21 June 2012
I feel at peace now. There was just a misunderstanding.
Today Inguk came to talk to me, apologizing for what he said last night. He said that he didn’t feel well, and that’s why he was sensitive, and at the end he told me that he will support us. However, the smile he offered me felt so superficial and cold. Maybe it was just my imagination? Of course, probably he still felt unwell.
Later that night my husband took me to a movie date. We had a good time, fooling around with the popcorn, and almost getting us kicked out. This is what I love about him; he knows how to have fun just like me.
8 July 2012
For the past weeks I missed Inguk’s presence. He was in the house with us, but it felt like he was just a ghost passing by me. He did not talk a lot, and if he did, there were only short sentences. And I could tell that he was deep in thoughts, like today.
He was sitting at the base of the staircase, alone. He looked so…lost. So I decided that I should cheer him up. Whatever his problem was, I wanted to help him. However, he seemed to be annoyed at my attempts of lightening the atmosphere, but I was not going to give up. Just when I was ready to make him chase me, Jaehyun made his appearance. That was a good opportunity to involve him in out teasing, just how we were in high school. I hid behind him while continuing to piss off Inguk. But as soon as his eyes laid on Jaehyun, his whole expression changed. He was smiling again. The exact opposite happened when he looked back at me, his eyes promising me that I will regret for acting like a monkey, his words.
Hmm, it seems like I can’t beat Jaehyun when it comes to friendship. That’s alright, though. Everyone feels more attached to a certain person. I just hope that he will open up in front of my fiancée, letting him take care of his worries.
6 October 2012
I haven’t been able to write here in a long time. Truth be told, I forgot about this diary’s existence because planning a wedding is harder than I thought. But we here we are, 4 days before the ceremony. I am so nervous; I can’t even sleep properly at night. Jaehyun is suffering with me, poor hubby. He wakes up everytime I turn around in in bed. And sometimes I make him stay awake and talk to me about how we imagined our wedding to be like.
We have decided that it will be a modest one. We want a small place where important people in our life will gather around to celebrate with us. Everyone can relax and enjoy the company of each other.
On the other hand…Inguk got even worse. At some point he stopped talking to me, and it hurts me, but I try to remain unaffected, showing him my happy-go-lucky self. There were days when I wondered if I did something that offended him, but nothing came up into my mind. I told my love about my worries, his only advice being that I should give him his personal space. I didn’t like the idea, but what else could I do?
Jaehyun and Inguk behaved like nothing was wrong, only the atmosphere between Inguk and me was darkening every time we bumped into each other.
I don’t want us turning into strangers. That thought terrifies me.
Inguk, just talk to me!
I miss you.
10 October 2012
Today was our wedding! It was something magical. Of course, I was very nervous; I could feel my stomach churn because of the emotions that were tormenting me, but the joy of seeing my Jaehyun in the black tuxedo soothed my soul. I knew he was handsome, but today he hit a new level. And another amazing thing that happened today was that Inguk finally talked to me!
I was climbing down the stairs, feeling wonderful in my modern wedding dress, when I saw my friend among the guests that we arriving. To my surprise, he told me that I was beautiful, lifting my spirit to the sky. My smile was hurting my cheeks, but I couldn’t stop, it made me so happy. | 5568a744924f4878a91f02ea58c1e869 | ['a767f414307d47a38e38b6f4850b635a'] |
Dear Diary
**Author's Note:**
> Hey there! So this is my first time writing and posting a story, and I hope it came out alright. This work is based on K.Will's song called :Please don't...". If you didn't hear it until now, I advice you to do so because it's amazing.
> I hope you will enjoy Dasom's deary!
12 June 2012
Along the years I had so many friends who were talking about how relaxing it is to write in a diary, and how they could store their memories between the pages. I’ll be honest; I was a little envious because, at some point, I, too, tried to have one of my own. However, it ended up in a failure. There were not many things to talk about because my life was pretty much average. I didn’t see the point of continuing it, so I gave up shortly.
However, now I can try doing it again. How exciting!
Listen Diary, I feel so alive right now. I feel like I am living a dream, and I hope that it will remain like this forever. The happiness knocked on my door, and I didn’t hesitate welcoming it in. This feeling is fulfilling my heart every day, every day I see him because it came in a pretty handsome shape.
Hmm? Do you still not know what I am talking about? It’s my Jaehyun, of course. We have been dating for a while now, but it still feels like we are two puppies deeply in love, our honeymoon phase never ending. Actually, we will celebrate our 4 years anniversary in two days. And that reminds me that I still did not find the perfect gift for him. Such a bad girlfriend I am.
13 June 2012
I found my knight in shining armor! He was lying lazily on the couch, watching TV. I should be considered myself lucky because many people search for him, and all I had to do was to climb down the stairs.
Do you remember how I said that I was still searching for a good present? Today I still had no idea what I should get him, but everything went smoothly. My knight helped me, isn’t he sweet? And he was the one suggesting it, not me.
He is my and Jaehyun’s best friend. So how could it not pop in my mind? Who would know better know what Jaehyun likes if not his friend Inguk? He really saved me, as always. I remember how many times he helped me in the past, and nothing changed, even though I may be a troublemaker sometimes.
Now I have no worries, and I can’t wait for tomorrow!
14 June 2012
I feel like screaming! No, not in horror but I can’t hold in all the emotions that are swirling in my chest, making it feel like it will explode. My heart is also not helping me as it is beating like I ran a marathon. Should I do it? Maybe I’ll let it out, just a little. Hold on, I will do it now, anyway.
Ok, it was awkward. I ended up screaming. I thought I did it silently, but it seems like it was the opposite because a confused Inguk came into my room, asking me if everything was alright. And I swear I heard Jaehyun laughing in the hallway. Bastard, he knows exactly why I am like this.
So let me explain. Today is our anniversary, and he proposed to me! I still can’t believe it. I feel like I am floating on the ninth cloud. He planned everything, like a sly fox he is. We had dinner at a new restaurant that opened recently and there it happened. My tears were sliding down my cheeks, and I am more than sure that I looked like an ugly duckling when it turned into sobs. I was just so happy, so hard to control myself. I regret nothing, though. You have no idea how happy I am.
16 June 2012
Every day I realize more and more how perfect this man is. Every hug, kiss and touch makes me feel shivers go down my spine. I can’t ever have enough of him. I am so happy at the thought that he wants to age by my side. I can imagine us like a cuddly old couple, and the idea makes me smile every time.
That reminds me that we still didn’t tell Inguk anything. We want it to be a surprise. I wonder what he will say, and how he will act. I am more than sure that he will say something along the lines “How can you marry a monkey?”. He has been teasing me since high school.
A bully, that’s what he is!
20 June 2012
We have finally told him but it was not really the reaction I have expected from him.
We had dinner together, and it just felt like the perfect moment to tell him everything. So, as we sat in the living room, I and Jaehyun told him that we have something to tell him. He seemed curious as he took a seat and looked at us patiently. |
d30a0a006f8a422685127a3b1299bd4e | ['a7a71a85fa7d4652a8ca28040ca3a067'] |
Blinded
**Author's Note:**
> A/N: What’s up? I’ve finally finished my prompt I posted some days ago and to be honest, I’m glad it’s done and I’m quite satisfied with it. I also wanna give a shoutout to the brilliant, lovely and extremely talented EP04 for helping and motivating me. She’s one of my biggest inspirations and I’m so honored that she took the time to read my story and give me her opinion on it. Thank you so much!
> I would love to get some feedback. Now, have fun reading “Blinded”.
It was Monday morning and Brianna was standing in front of her new school. She was surprisingly not nervous but not really exited either. It was Highschool, there was nothing exiting about that.
With the help of a fellow student she found the office of the principal to receive her timetable, the list of the dress code, the number and code for her locker and her hallway pass. The first she did was making her way to the locker to sort the irrelevant material out. She took a look at her timetable and was exited that her first period was English.
Unfortunately, her teacher was totally unqualified, so the most exiting part of the lesson was to get to know a girl named Blair. She was very friendly and optimistic. Brianna got invited to sit with her friends Monet and Dusty at lunch. She accepted the invitation and said her goodbye due to their different timetables. It was never a problem for Brianna to make friends very quickly.
Her other lessons went by quickly and it was time for lunch. Brianna was practically starving so she went as fast as possible to the cafeteria. Apparently, Brianna arrived at the perfect day because on this days menu was pizza. After some minutes she found Blair sitting at one of the tables with two other girls, probably Monet and Dusty. She was was greeted by the three of them and began to eat her pizza. That was when she saw her. Long legs, which were emphasized by six inch stilettos, a short black leather skirt, an animal print blouse combined with black gloves, yellow sunglasses, perfect makeup, long, sleek, black hair and the most prettiest face she has ever seen. Brianna immediately knew that she was no good but she didn’t care. She wanted to get to know her and be her little … “Are you even listening to us?” Blair asked her with an amused expression and followed the direction of Brianna’s eyes. “Please don’t tell me that you hit on Aquaria.” Now Blair wasn’t amused but concerned. “What? No! Why would I? You said Aquaria is her name?” Brianna practically stumbles over her own words. “Yes, that girl you were staring at is Aquaria and next to her is her friend Vixen. No one really knows about them but I can tell you this: Don’t move too close to them, don’t talk to them and don’t stalk them. There have been several students that tried to be acknowledged by them and no one knows were they are now.” Monet warned Brianna and just like Blair, she looked very concerned. Brianna didn’t take that seriously and couldn’t imagine how bad things could get.
It has been now several days and everyday her brain wasn’t focusing on the lessons. Her mind was occupied by the thought of Aquaria walking in the cafeteria, her legs and how bad she wanted to be in between these … “Brianna, could you please focus on the lesson and not look out the window? I’d really appreciate that.” Her teacher interrupted her own lesson to wake her up from her daydreams. Brianna quickly apologized and tried to focus on the lesson.
Just like every other day Brianna followed Aquaria and Vixen unnoticeably to get some information about then on how to approach them in future. She quickly noticed that they took the same path everyday after class that led to an old and abandoned depository warehouse which seemed very suspicious to her. She carefully approached the old building and heard a gunshot. Brianna’s heart skipped a beat and her face became pale. “That can’t be. There’s no way of Aquaria and Vixen triggering that shot. No one must have died, right?” she whispered to herself and suddenly felt the presence of a man right next to her, a gun pointed at her temple.
She must have blacked out because she can’t remember what happened after she got caught. She slowly opened her eyes and no other than Aquaria was standing in front of her. Her presence was threatening. She looked at Brianna with these icy blue eyes and sent a shiver down her spine. “What are you doing here?” Aquaria’s voice was cold and direct. Brianna didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t just say: “I followed you because I think you’re hot and want get to know you.” so she just answered with: “I went out for a walk and found this building here. I have no idea where I am because I’ve just moved here from Seattle and …” she was interrupted by Vixen. “We don’t want to know your life story. Why have you been hiding behind some trees right in front of that building?” Vixen’s stare was nearly as threatening as Aquaria’s. “I heard a gunshot and wanted to know what happened, maybe even help that person if possible.” she answered truthfully after taking a deep breath. | 3b66d2cd483b402493711debae43704c | ['a7a71a85fa7d4652a8ca28040ca3a067'] | “I can’t wait for our princess to be born and give her the perfect life. She’s gonna have the best parents in the world. I want her to feel accepted and loved and I’ll do anything for her. She deserves the world and I’m gonna hand her the world and spoil her because she is our princess. Do you think we should let her grow up with pets? It’s probably a great idea, right? I think that she should grow up with cats and dogs. That will probably teach her responsibility. We should look for a nice kindergarten, there are not enough places. How could I forget? We need to buy her clothes. Only the best and most expensive clothes for our princess. How about you? You are probably also very exited, right?” Aquaria looked at her so passionately and with so much love in her eyes, Brianna couldn’t fight a smile. “She’s our little princess and of course she’ll have a great life, especially with you as her mom but I’m also a little scared. Do you think I’m ready for parenthood?” Just as Brianna finished her sentence, Aquaria pulled her into a hug and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I don’t think that anyone really is ready for parenthood but I know that you will be an amazing mother. Together, we can do anything no matter what. Because why? I love you so much and will always be there for you. I’m gonna treat you so well during the rest of the pregnancy. Like giving you massages, doing all of the housework and you know how much I hate doing this, shopping for anything and buying you everything that you crave. My two girls should relax and I’ll work my ass off. I’m gonna treat you like a queen, I mean it. If you want me to run to the next store and buy you some chocolate, I’m gonna do it right now.” she replied and Brianna felt how tears were forming in her eyes. She couldn’t believe how happy this girl could make her. “I can’t imagine being a parent with any other girl because you are perfect. You are so passionate about it and I know that you love our baby already. You are gonna be the prefect mother and I love you so much, more than I’ve ever loved someone else. I still can’t believe how lucky I am for being with you and starting a family. You fulfill my dreams.” Now Brianna’s tears were falling down her checks, she felt Aquaria wiping them her away with her thumb and pull her into a passionate kiss. Both of them putting all of their love for each other into it. Aquaria took her hand and they made their way to Aquaria’s destination, a beautiful gazebo with a beautiful view at the sunset.
When they arrived, they held each other close and looked to the sunset. For Brianna her life couldn’t be better. She was happy, she was truly happy and knew that her future would be perfect with her wonderful girlfriend and their beautiful daughter.
It was Brianna’s absolute favorite place in the park and wondered why Aquaria wanted to be here with her at this moment. All of a sudden “Make You Feel My Love” by Adele played and Aquaria turned them to face each other. She put Brianna’s arms on her shoulders and hers on Brianna’s hips. While dancing they looked into each other’s eyes. They didn’t need any words, both of them knew how much they loved each other. Aquaria’s love in her eyes made Brianna’s heart flutter every time.
It began to snow and underlined that beautiful moment.
The reason why that song played was that Aquaria had a plan and this was one part of it. That song was perfect because she wanted Brianna to know that she was her everything and she will love her till the day they’ll die and beyond. She will fight for their relationship no matter what and will make her feel special everyday.
The next song was “Young And Beautiful” by Lana Del Rey. Aquaria spent weeks on choosing these songs, listening to them over and over again to make sure that this moment would be perfect.
When this song was over, she took Brianna’s hands into hers and looked her deep in the eyes. Aquaria’s heartbeat increased and she became nervous. She planned this for months so it needed to be perfect. The music, the time, the place, her words - everything was planned to the slightest detail. |
9cc4a2ca40aa4f0bb967604ae3175961 | ['a7b24e2837264b6b93c7f3a30737d282'] | 1. Carry On My Wayward Starbucks
Unknown Number: Green Tea Latte
Me: Who is this?
Unknown Number: Sara how could you forget me :(
Me: Look Tommy I'm not interested.
Unknown Number: Who the hells Tommy? This is your brothers arch-nemisis.
Me: Lalna???
Unknown Number: Yep
Me: Why are you texting me?
Lalna: Because I'm on the ground floor of the Avengers building and I want starbucks
Me: http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ItMakesSenseInContext
Lalna: I HAVE STARBUCKS AND I BOUGHT A STARBUCKS FOR YOUUUUUUUUUUUU
Me: What villian school do they teach that one at.
Lalna: Stark and the rest of the avengers are coming through the door.
Lalna: Starks seen me.
Lalna: Im running.
Lalna: Authorise me to go to your floor
Me: Why should I?
Lalna: Sushi starbucks and supernatural
Me: Get in the lift.
Lalna: Thanks
2. Why Is There A Guinea Pig
Sam: Dean-O
Me: Who is this. Cause Sam's sitting in front of me.
Sam: I'm the guy who died for your sins.
Me:?
Sam: The hot one. ;)
Me: Gabriel?
Sam: Yeeeeeeees!!!
Me: You're dead.
Sam: Correction: I was dead but good old dad brought me back.
Me: Oh. Goodie.
Sam: Now is there any chance you could open the door it's really hard to get in to angel proof bunkers.
Me: No
Sam: But we can have a sleepover and play truth or dare and seven minutes in heaven ;)
Me:.....
Sam: Never mind found my own way in.
3. The Winchester Effect
Unknown: I swear to god Gabriel if this is another wrong number I'm gonna kill you.
Sara: Wrong number.
Sara: And who the hell's Gabriel?
Sara: And on that note who the hell are you?
Unknown: I'm Dean.
Sara: Sara.
Dean: Well nice to meet you Sara I have an angel to smite.
Sara: Sounds more like a trickster to me.
Dean: You have no idea.
4. Some Friendly Advice From A New Friend
Sara: Dean?
Sara: You there?
Dean: Who are you?
Sara: You wrong numbered me like two days ago.
Dean: jjubhjgvftuyu.
Sara: What?
Dean: Sorry my brother stole my phone.
Sara: Is your brother the angel?
Dean: No but he's equally as annoying.
Sara: Ha.
Dean: Anyway why are you texting a wrong number?
Sara: Because I need advice from an impartial third party.
Dean: What about.
Sara: There's a supervillian in my bedroom and I'm not sure whether or not to take him up to the Avenger's level
Dean: Elaborate.
Sara: I'm the sister of the superhero Rythian. I'm the superhero Paradox. I let Lalna AKA Alchemist up to my level in a stupid heat-of-the-moment decision and he fell asleep on my couch. I don't know what to do.
Dean: Why are you conflicted.
Sara: Because he's the first person I've felt any real connection to other than my brother. I don't even feel this way with my boyfriend. HELP ME.
Dean: If you feel that way then you shouldn't turn him in. Real friends and kindred spirits are hard to come by.
Sara: But it feels like I'm betraying my family.
Dean: A wise man once said, family don't end in blood.
Sara: Thank you Dean.
Dean: Anytime Sara.
5. There Was The Word
Sara: The avengers are doing a full search of the building for Lalna.
Dean: Do I need to know this?
Sara: No but still. I mean, this is just weird. I swear to god Clint's searching through my underwear draw.
Dean: What do you think he's hoping to find in there?
Sara: Maybe my secret diary where I write love poems to him.
Dean: Ha ha.
Sara: Now they want my phone. Like why? Is he hiding in my photo album?
Dean: Oh such hardship.
Sara: Ah go screw.
Dean: You go screw.
Sara: Aeth is getting angry.
Dean: Who's Aeth?
Sara: Boyfriend.
Dean: Why?
Sara: Cause I'm not giving a shit about what he's saying.
Dean: What is he saying?
Sara: Something about giving him m
Dean: Sara?
Dean: Dude?
Sara: What are you doing texting Sara?
Dean: I wrong numbered her like two days ago and we've been chatting.
Sara: Yeah "chatting". I'm sure you've just been "chatting" Lalna.
Dean: I'm not Lalna and you should stop being a dick.
Sara: Oh shit, just got my phone back.
Dean: Yeah, check back through your texts.
Sara: WHAT THE SHIT
Dean: I know.
Sara: I just dumped him.
Dean: By text?
Sara: No, by carrier pigeon.
Dean: A lost art.
Sara: Ha ha.
Sara: But yes. I've banned him from my floor.
Dean: He deserved it.
6. Hellblazing Hot
Dean: You there?
Sara: Only Always.
Lalna: Yup.
Dean: A ghost from the past showed up.
Lalna: Ghost or Demon?
Sara: How long have you been waiting to use that one?
Lalna: Too long, Midnight. Too long.
Dean: Guys? Back to my problem?
Sara: Yeah, sure.
Lalna: What's your problem with your ghostdemon.
Dean: John Constantine showed up and I don't know what to do.
Sara: Fondue.
Lalna: Seconded.
Dean: Fondue?
Sara: You know, fondue.
Dean: I'm not getting it.
Lalna:
7. WTF
Okay lord knows what happened with the previous chapter.
Like seriously the text cuts out halfway through. I can't edit it and I can't delete the chapter.
So I guess I'll just write the text into the next chapter and add another one to make up for whatever the hell that was.
Who likes Frostiron and Sabriel? | dd4cece6470d4e6eb980874ed7cb0aee | ['a7b24e2837264b6b93c7f3a30737d282'] | Sara Midnight was trapped.
Her parents came and went, she wished her brother Rythian good luck.
Sara was trapped.
Sara was tall and had raven black hair with a dark purple stripe through it and pale skin. She often wears an olive green skin tight tank, black leggings and purple and black running shoes.
Sara had purple eyes that seemed to be lit up from behind when she was happy or excited.
Not that happiness happened that much.
Then, one day the window opened, and a head peaked through.
The boy had sky blue eyes and dishevelled sunflower blonde hair, he wore a lab coat and goggles perched on his head, a blue shirt, blue jeans and white sneakers with mismatched brightly coloured laces.
"Is it safe in here?" The boy asked, he looked alarmed.
"Nope." Sara popped the p in the word and looked over at him lazily, "You escaping?"
"Yeah, apparently Enderborns don't take kindly to scientists." The boy still looked alarmed.
"Well call me a scientist and slap on some goggles I'm coming with you." Sara rolled up off of her bed and grabbed her pre-packed backpack.
Hey, girls gotta have some expectations of being rescued.
"Weeeeeell, the castle is a bit lonely."
"Sara, Sara Midnight." She introduced as she slung on her backpack.
"Lalna Jones." He replied and grinned up at her.
Lalna dropped out the window followed by Sara.
"Follow me." Sara grabbed his hand and ran towards the portal to the normal world.
She remembered the map her brother had drawn to the letter. Right here, left here, that's a dead end.
Then she came to the portal and the mob was already there.
With her parents at the head.
"Sara! You let go of that scientist this minute!" Her mother barked.
It's time for some backstory.
Enderborns are powerful, magical beings. Every once in a while one which is even more powerful than the rest of the Enderborns is born. They are called Paradoxes.
Paradoxes are born in every single type of being.
This type of Enderborn's powers only come into being when they bond their soul to someone.
So, to the Enderborns there is only one way to deal with this, lock the child away or kill them.
Most times death would be the merciful option.
What the Enderborns don't know is that it takes another Paradox to perform a soul bond. Paradoxes have a funny way of finding each other.
One of the things that the Paradoxes get when the bond is a guardian demon and a guardian angel.
Aspects of their personality gone rogue. Their bad thoughts become a guardian demon. Someone with no inhibitions who wants nothing but destruction. They have the power to destroy.
Their kind thoughts become their guardian angel. Someone with no anger who wants peace. They have the power to heal.
And so unknowing to them the second Sara took Lalna's hand four people were born.
Lalna's demon was the first to come into being, his name was Livid.
Sara's demon came next and her name was Midnight.
Sara's angel was Daylight.
Lalna's was Kindr.
Sara released Lalna's hand, "Stand back."
Lalna did so almost instinctively.
She put her hands out in front of her and let go. Without control the demon surfaced.
There was a second of quiet and then black waves and spirals poured out of Sara's hands and the mob parted like the great sea lest they get caught in the dark magic.
The magic stopped and Lalna ran towards the portal, grabbing Sara hand on the way.
The duo jumped through the portal.
And landed in the castle.
**Author's Note:**
> Thanks for reading. I can't really write Sjin so can someone do some quick comments to help out. |
e82b8c8826f747a2a6fe17363468b0e6 | ['a7be9ed8ddaa4cf6a543c8014d771e34'] | "Hi love, you had a good nap" he asks. And no, Harry did not have a good nap because all he could dream about was Cole and breaking up with Louis and Zayn still being mad at him. So instead of answering he just walks over to Louis and straddles him, bending down slightly for a kiss. The more Harry kisses Louis the guiltier he gets knowing he's going to have to leave Louis soon, so the kiss soon becomes heated and desperate.
"Mm, Haz baby, slow down a little bit." Louis says as he regretfully pulls away breathless. Harrys not having any of it though as he leans back down and starts desperately sucking Louis' neck, trying his hardest to forget about everything that's happened. After Harry has given Louis enough time to regain himself he goes back to his mouth and kisses him again, harder and more desperately before, gaining entrance to Louis' mouth and kissing him even deeper.
Louis is shocked at this sudden behaviour from his boyfriend though. Normally Louis is always the one to initiate any kind of kissing and normally he dominates the kiss, but right now Harry is completely overpowering the Kiss. And whilst Louis loves it, he also knows something isn't right so it takes all of his willpower to once again pull away.
"H-Harry, baby we need to stop. This i-isnt right." Louis says with regret.
"Why? D-Do you not want m-me anymore?Oh my god, Cole was right this whole time, W-Why didn't y-you just t-tell me before, I-I d-didn't r-realise you felt th-this way. Oh my god, y-you h-hate me and L-Louis I cc-can't breath, make it stop please make it stop, I don't wanna be here, I wanna die, I don't wanna be here, I wanna die." Harry continues repeating those actions as he tugs down in his beanie, sliding down to the floor and rocking back and forth with his knees pulled up to his chin. Louis takes a second to realise Harry is having a panic attack but as soon as he does he also slides off the chair and crouches Infront of Harry, both arms securely pushing down on his shoulders.
"Harry, focus on my voice baby. I need to you take a deep breath in for me and then a big breath out. Do it with me, ready in....and out, repeat." Louis speaks firmly to Harry, exaggerating his breathing so Harry can copy him. For the first few tries Harry can't seem to get control of his own breathing but eventually he manages to replicate Louis' breathing, glad for the hands on his shoulders that are keeping him grounded.
"Well done Haz, you're doing so well keep going darling. I love you" Louis says reassuringly. Harry keeps trying to regulate his breath as he feels the panic leave his body and in place tiredness. He falls forwards into Louis' hold and they stay that way for a while.
Not too long after Harry whispers to Louis, "we need to talk" making Louis a little anxious and worried. He pulls himself back up and sits back down in his chair, pulling Harry into his lap again, this time facing sideways.
"Haz what just happened babes?" Louis asked cautiously.
"Uhm, I'm not sure, I think maybe I had an anxiety attack" Harry whispers unsurely.
"I know darling, you had a panic attack. I kind of meant why did it happen and why were you kissing me so desperately before." Harry groans in frustration, desperately wanting to tell Louis the truth but knowing he can't.
"I-I can't, uh, can't tell you but uhm, I-uh, uhm, thinkweshouldtakeabreak" Harry rushes out. Under normal circumstances, in any other relationship, Louis would be upset by that statement. But Louis knows Harry better than anyone else and he knows something isn't right.
"No you don't." He responds simply, leaning back in his chair.
"W-what? Yes I do." Harry protests stubbornly. _Your doing this for Louis_ he tells himself, _this is for Louis'own good_
"Harry stop lying please, tell me what's going on."
"If I tell you your gonna get hurt."Harry whispers, collapsing back into Louis' hold.
"I'm not gonna get hurt sweetheart, I promise. Please just tell me." Louis pleads, getting a little nervous as to what's about to happen.
"Uhm, D-Do you have any wipes?" Harry asks shyly " Maybe I could show you instead."
"Sure baby, good idea" Louis diggs around in guys cupboard door some wipes, sighing in relief when he finds them. He passes one to Harry who hesitantly takes it. "Promise got won't laugh at me or make fun of me?" Harry asks.
"Of course I won't baby." Louis says reassuringly.
Harry turns around as he starts to wipe away the makeup on his face off, he then removes his short and beanie hearing Louis gasp from behind him. Slowly he turns around and meets Louis' eyes.
"Fuck, oh my god. Darling who would do this to you?" Louis asks as he steps forwards to inspect Harry's injuries.
"C-Cole" Harry whispers. Louis tenses up as grips his hands in fists.
"I'll kill him. I swear to god I'll kill him! He's gonna pay for doing this to you." Louis says darkly.
"No! He's gonna hurt you really bad if you do" Harry protests wanting to keep him safe.
Louis runs a hand through Harry's hair as he swears to himself again.
"Haz when did this happen?"
"Uhm, technically this" Harry gestures to himself "happens yesterday but Cole's been picking on me for a few years now. But yesterday he found me in bathroom and punches me across the fave, kicks me in the stomach and cut my hair. I'm really really sorry."
Louis tilts Harry's head up so they're looking into each others eyes.
"Sweetheart you have absolutely nothing to apologize for. This isn't your fault, okay?" Louis says reassuringly. Harry nods silently. | 2cff3a7363854a0c9cc8eaa68f702903 | ['a7be9ed8ddaa4cf6a543c8014d771e34'] | "I know, but, like, your cool and whatever you wear looks cool, and everyone's gonna like you no matter what you wear. But I'm not that interesting or funny like you, so people judge what I wear cause it's all I have going for me, you know?" Harry says, helping Louis to stand back up ones his shoes are tied up.
"Baby that's the biggest load of bull shit I've ever heard. Your so funny and interesting and you always look cool no matter what you wear and you have so much more going for you then your fashion, okay?"
"I guess". Louis leans in and pecks a quick kiss to Harry's lips before taking hold of his hand and giving it a quick squeeze. "You ready to go now, interesting and funny boyfriend!"
"Yeah, let's get this awful interview over with." Harry says with a sigh and then grabs some sunglasses for him and Louis before leaving the bus.
-
When Harry and Louis get to the building where the radio station is, the other boys are already there getting ready. Liam is sitting on the sofa with an ice pack against his eye whilst Niall and Zayn appear to be in a very in depth conversation about God knows what. Louis immediately feels Harry freeze and tense up from where his hand is wrapped around his waist. He leans into Harry's side and places his mouth next to his ear.
"Haz, why don't you go over to Lou and get ready for this radio chat yeah? I'll be over in a few." Louis squeezes Harry's arm and tries to walk in the opposite direction but Harry hastily grabs his arm again and looks at him in panic.
"Harry, go on. You'll be fine baby, I'll be right here if you need me and you like Lou, don't you?" Louis asks reassuringly.
"Y-yeah but I w-wanna be with you..." Harry whispers vulnerably, looking down at his feet. Louis sighs, he wants to stay with Harry and make sure he'll be okay, but he knows it's not healthy for Harry to be totally dependent on him and also he needs to have a quick word with the rest of the lads so they all know where they stand.
"I know, baby, and I'll be right over here if you need me, but Lou needs to get you ready yeah? And I need to sort a couple things out over here. If at any point you really really need me you can just call me over okay? I won't get mad at you baby."
"O-okay. I love you" Harry whispers again.
"I love you too baby" Louis says back before pressing a kiss to Harry's forehead and walk-in away. Harry also walks away and greets their hair and makeup artist Lou with a small hug before sitting down in the chair to get ready.
Louis, on the other hand, walks over the other boys who instantly become silent as soon as he arrives.
"Lou, before you say anything I just wanted to say me and Niall are really really sorry about what happened before. It's just, stress levels have been rising for all of us recently what with all the promo and the album releasing and the tour and recording the next album and me and Perrie have been having a bit of a rough time recently and I guess we just kind of took all the stress and anger out on him? Which was totally wrong of us and we just really want to say sorry to Harry and you, but we understand if you don't want us to. We're just really really sorry Lou" Zayn rushes out honestly, too scared to look Louis in the eyes.
"Yeah, Lou, we're really genuinely sorry. I didn't mean what I said and we know Harry does work hard and he does try and he is talented, it's just like Zayn said. We took our own problems out on him which was bang out of order from us and we are truly truly sorry." Niall adds, his voice laced with sincerity.
"Listen, I appreciate your apologies but one, their being given to the wrong person, two, it doesn't take away what you've said to him and three, your excuses are bull shit. You don't think me and Harry are stressed with all that's going on at that moment? We've got or stunt after or stunt to fulfill on-top of everything else that's occuring to you guys. We've got management down our arses all the fucking time about the most simple of things to the point where we can't fucking sit next to each other interviews cause 'how dare we look like we're gay'. We don't have fucking time to spend with each other or our families when we have 'breaks' from tour cause they very helpfully plan 'holidays' with random people away from each other so we can look straight. Harry is forced to go out every night and hook up with some fucking actor so he can look like a player and a man whore despite the fact he's the most genuine guy you'll ever meet but now he had this reputation which means people never ever see him for who his is. And for one second, for one tiny little miniscule second has he ever ever gotten mad at you guys? Has he ever raised his voice at you? Has he even made an offhand pissed off comment? Has he?" Louis asks calmly but with force behind his words.
"Lou-"
"Answer the damn question!" Louis says, his voice raised slightly. Niall and Zayn look to each other uncomfortably before Zayn speaks up.
"Umm, No but-"
"Exactly, No. He hasn't. So it isn't exactly fair for you to say the reason you've made him feel as though he isn't worthy in this band is because of your stress, is it?"
"No" Zayn whispers in defeat. |
cf6bbf5c60af4bd0b3148098ea095c1f | ['a7c29539fd61440c9a8da5174fa3f4df'] |
1. Chapter 1
**Author's Note:**
* Inspired by LINK by LadySkarlettofSkaro.
> Another story! ^~^ I hope you like this one! This has been in my head for a while. Please check out the Fic it's based off! I will never be able to write that amazingly!
>
> THESE ARE MY VIEWS ON HEAVEN, HELL, ANGELS, AND THE LIKE. NO OFFENSE IS INTENDED.
Alfred smiled as he watched over his section of Earth. There were a few children playing in a field of blue flowers, running and laughing, the happy noises reaching up to his perch in Heaven. It made his heart ache.
Suddenly, one of the children fell hard and hit his head on a rock, the sharp noise resounding through the field and making Alfred gasp. He quickly flew down to Earth, trying to make sure the child was okay. He gently waved his hand above the child’s mouth once, muttering an incantation under his breath. The child’s soul didn’t come meet his hand right away, making him smile again; the day a child died was always a sad day in Heaven. He gently placed his lips upon the child’s and blew life into him again, making the child open his eyes slowly and begin to cry. One of the others ran to get the mother of the young boy. Alfred grinned, he would be okay. He flew back up, keeping an eye on the boy while continuing his duties.
The rest of the day continued pretty much uneventfully. He didn’t have to rescue anyone else, and the boy seemed okay. He was content with these events. So he returned to Heaven, flying up into the gorgeous clouds that shone bright pink, lilac and a pure white.
“Alfred!” a musical voice called out.
Alfred turned to find a music angel, this one named Feliciano, smiling at him. “That was very kind of you.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure what you mean.” Alfred said gently.
“Saving that boy…he was hit hard. You got there just in time!” Feliciano sang.
Alfred nodded, smiling kindly at Feliciano. “I suppose I did. But being a guardian angel, that is my job.”
Feliciano laughed a tinkling bell laugh. “True.”
Alfred laughed softly as well and the two of them proceeded to enter the beautiful gold gates of Heaven together. Waiting for them at the top was Alfred’s brother, Matthew, another Guardian and Yao, a Carrier angel. Yao had a sad expression on his face and his wings were drooping and Matthew was comforting him.
“Yao, what happened?!” Feliciano sang, flying over to them, concerned.
“Nothing, Feliciano. A tough assignment. That’s all…”
Feliciano stopped in his tracks. “A child?”
“Not just the child…a mother…and her baby…”
Alfred and Feliciano both looked at Yao in dismay. Being a Carrier angel was perhaps one of the hardest jobs you could be assigned. Carrying souls back and forth was an honorable job, but it was also an emotional one. The Carriers were affected the most by children’s deaths.
“I’m so sorry, Yao…” Feliciano chimed quietly.
“It’s fine…” Yao offered him a half-smile and then turned to Matthew. “Thank you very much for being there for me.”
Matthew nodded, “Of course!” he smiled and they all continued to the Marble Hall where they began to sing the praises of God for that day. As they were singing, suddenly sounds of chaos could be heard, making them all turn towards the Gates. The sounds died down for a few moments, and they all stood frozen, unsure of what to do, when suddenly the Gates of Heaven were shattered to pieces and a hoard of devils poured through.
Alfred stared in horror at the devastation. “No way…” This couldn’t be happening. The devils never made it through! And that was when he noticed. A hand flew to his mouth as tears welled in his eyes. “Kiku…”
His lovely friend who had been away on an assignment stood at the head of the hoard, wings that were once the most beautiful white you could imagine, black with the feathers matted, torn off and broken. His eyes were a glazed brownish-red, and he looked as though he saw everything and nothing. He was pale and the normal heavenly glow that surrounded angels was gone. He was nothing like what Alfred remembered. And this was what brought him to tears.
Kiku looked at the angels with an expressionless face and called out in a hoarse, scream of a voice that was NOTHING like his old soft, gentle voice, “ATTACK!”
Alfred stared in horror as the devils attacked, slicing through the angels like they were nothing. Hundreds of them exploded into shining golden dust, which the demons just stepped in and mixed with more blood. A few of the angels took up their bows and fought back, but the devils were clearly better prepared. He saw Kiku look around, surveying the damage he caused. Something lit up in his eyes when he saw Alfred's horrified face and he opened his mouth to speak to the devil next to him. Alfred heard him mutter about taking what he had told him before. The devil nodded and looked straight at Alfred, blood-red eyes meeting his before he vanished. Alfred tensed up, looking around for him, trying to sense where the devil would show up. Suddenly he heard something behind him and whirled around, crying out at the sight he saw. Matthew was grabbed by a devil, arms twisted behind his back and then stabbed between the wings, golden blood pouring down his back and making him cry out. | 801f3a94bca743d8b2732d9c19cc0a60 | ['a7c29539fd61440c9a8da5174fa3f4df'] | "Matthew!" Alfred ran to try to help him, then gasped as something sharp went into his back as well, preventing him from moving with the burning pain. He felt himself scream and thrash against his attacker, who easily bound his arms and legs, then grabbed him tight, preventing all movement. Matthew was in the same situation, being held back by a blonde devil who had a smirk on his lips. From the corner of his eye, Alfred was able to see Italy and Yao suffer the same fate. They were all then lifted into the air. Alfred's eyes widened at the feeling of flying yet being unable to move his wings. It drove him near madness.
The hands holding him adjusted him to a more comfortable position and he could see they were flying out of Heaven. They went down, down, down. Past the beautiful, shining clouds of Heaven to the lush green of Earth, and down again, going through the ground into a dark realm of heat and horrid smells. Alfred shut his eyes tight, the heat
was hurting them.
Soon enough, he felt himself being dropped and reopened them. Standing before him was none other than Satan himself. He was a brunette, with red eyes and horns, bat wings and a body that would make any one jealous, were it not red as the molten lava nearby. And beside him were two men, a brunette with blazing fiery red eyes, a stern expression and a whip and a silvery-black haired man with bright red eyes and a smirk on his face, with a sword attached to his belt.
Satan smiled down at the angels he had captured, relishing in their pitiful sight and making Alfred want more than ever to get out of there. "Welcome." He said, voice like silk. "To Hell."
2. Welcome to Hell
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Alfred, a Guardian Angel, as well as his brother Matthew. another guardian angel, Yao, a Carrier Angel and Feliciano, an Angel of Music have been captured by devils in the storming of Heaven. They have been brought down to Hell where they await their fate...
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Yay, an update!
> I won't be updating Two Sides of the Same Coin for a while, as I only write that when I'm depressed or in a sad mood. Plus, I changed the storyline in the one I posted here, so I have to adjust ^^
> Thank you for your patience and for reading my stories!
Alfred stared at the man in front of him. "W-We're...in...H-Hell...?"
The man laughed, "Si. And you won't be getting out any time soon, so I suggest you make yourselves comfortable." he sneered.
Alfred felt tears beginning to brim in his eyes. This couldn't be happening!
"Allow me to explain how things go around here. I am Antonio, but you will address me as Satan, Master, Lord, etc. You filthy angels will be given to a few of my most trusted devils to do as they like with you. Whether that means fucking you or not, I don't really care." Antonio licked his lips. "You four look like you'd be quite good at that."
Alfred gave Antonio a horrified look and he laughed again.
"I think it is time for you to meet your devils~" he said, winking. Then he turned to the brunette by his side and whispered something to him. Something the rest of them could not hear.
The man nodded and flew off, huge leathery bat wings unfolding. The swoosh of air they made as he took off sent a fresh wave of Hell's burning stench into Alfred's nostrils and he winced, tearing up further. The heat was still searing.
They waited a few more minutes, until Antonio was starting to get impatient. "Ah...where the fuck are they? It doesn't take THAT LONG to fetch them!" he growled.
The black-haired man smiled at him and gently took his hand, rubbing circles into it. "Do not worry, my Lord. I'm sure they're coming. Francis was probably busy."
Antonio seemed to think for a moment, then nodded, accepting this answer. "Probably."
Suddenly the swooshing sound of wings could be heard in the distance and Antonio's face brightened up again. "Ah! Here they are!"
A group of men touched down, four to be exact. There was a red-head with bright green-red eyes, a blonde with deep crimson eyes, a brunette with a scowl, curl that stuck out much like Feliciano's and pale red eyes and a tall silver-haired man with red-violet eyes. They looked the angels over as the angels did the same to them.
"Arthur, come forward."
The red-head stepped away from the others and bowed to Antonio. "My Liege..." he murmured, voice silky with the hint of a regal British accent.
"You may choose first. You have served me well and deserve a reward."
Arthur bowed lower, "Thank you, my Lord." he straightened and began to walk over to the angels, looking them over and when he got to Alfred, he stopped. Alfred looked up at him, unsure of whether to speak or not and finally looked away, figuring that was the safest bet. Arthur grasped his face firmly in one hand and when Alfred's mouth opened in surprise, he pressed their lips together, tongue going into Alfred's mouth for a few moments. Alfred's eyes widened at the kiss and he became frightened at the strange feeling of the devil's tongue in his mouth. However he was unable to move during this for some reason.
"Is that your choice?"
"Yes." Arthur broke the kiss. "I choose him."
Alfred gasped and cried out as something began to burn his neck. It was hot and restricting and he couldn't tell what it was without seeing it. However he doubted he would get the chance. Arthur gently rubbed his back, trying to soothe him once the heat died down. He helped Alfred stand and gently led him to the side. "You're my pet now..." he murmured to Alfred, smiling.
Alfred kept his eyes on the ground, and remained silent. He didn't want to be anyone's pet...
He watched as the blonde did the same to Matthew, the brunette Feliciano and the silver-haired man, Yao. A pang of sorrow went through his heart as Antonio talked quietly to the devils. The only things Alfred could make out were "turned", "war" and "God". He couldn't go off of much with just those and so disregarded the conversation. As he began to move towards his brother, Arthur returned.
"Come. We're going home." he flew up, not bothering to help Alfred at all.
Alfred gently extended his wings and soared up behind Arthur.
Arthur smirked at him and whispered gently into his ear. "Perhaps when we get home I shall claim even more of you."
Alfred's eyes widened. Just who had Antonio stuck him with?! |
57eab56b1adb404ebfb6e70bdc96ffec | ['a7c330a1f4af4bce82cbb203854bf4fd'] | Armitage sat up, letting the sheets pool about his naked waist. He reached for the cigarettes on his nightstand and wordlessly allowed Mitaka to light the end of it. Really, Armitage thought, he was becoming shameless; expecting Rey to stay. Love was hardly required from a marriage, nor happiness. It was sanctified fucking, as the gods could attest; even the ones that looked down their aristocratic noses and pursed their lips at the crudity of it all. His own aunt was the goddess of discord; one who danced, naked, about with the imps that guarded her temple, and rolled about amidst human couples disguised as a filthy mayfly. Her husband still bedded her; even his father had and expected nothing more; _wanted _nothing more.
_Still_.
“Highness?” He blinked, realizing that Mitaka had been watching him with curious, wide eyes. Armitage shook his head, running his fingers through his tousled hair.
“Nothing,” he said, before sliding, naked from the bed. He turned from the windows that faced the garden, where he knew his wife would be, and his brother beside her. “Nothing at all, Mitaka.”
It didn’t matter.
It _didn’t_.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Chat with me: https://USER.wixsite.com/USER 🌹
>
> https://USER.tumblr.com/ 🌹
>
> and ask for me my discord! 🌹
>
> Beta'd by NCUH, thank you! 🦝🖤
2. II
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Thank you for your comments on the first chapter, and the sweet messages over Tumblr! 🖤 They were a lovely inspiration to write the second chapter, and I hope you all like it. Blue Days is going to be longer than my initial outline of three chapters, though updates may be sporadic.
>
> Your support truly means the world to me, thank you. 🖤
“How long has it been?”
“Hm?” She hungrily tilted her head back, letting the sun kiss her freckled cheeks. The heat made her happy, a gentle breeze brushing against her exposed shoulders. “Kylo?”
Though nothing could make her happier than being beside the man who'd pressed soft kisses to her exposed skin, tracing her collarbone with teasing kisses and nips before chastely kissing her cheek. She spent her days at his side when he wasn't away from court, and her nights with her husband.
She wouldn’t think his name, not when she was with Kylo.
It'd been weeks since her marriage, and she felt herself faltering inside the palace. She hardly knew how to read, nor write her name, instead, spending her time when she was alone with the servants or out riding. She also practiced the training exercises she had when she was a lone maiden using a wooden staff, she'd carved herself, and brought bits of rice to feed the sparrows that gathered there. She hadn't been called to attend one of Snoke's infamous dinners when the court assembled to entertain him.
Something she was glad for.
“Since you slept, Rey,” Kylo asked, not missing how she’d begun to doze on his shoulder, before shaking herself awake. She was like a loth cat in the sun, her lips parted gently, and her breath coming in soft pants. He knew her love for the sun and kept the trees from shading them, having their branches curl inward.
“A little.” she yawned and met his gaze with hers. “What about you?”
She knew he slept as much as she did, the two in tandem with another.
“Since your wedding night,” he admitted, and she inclined her head, ignoring the feeling of her cheeks flushing. It was the same for her, both aware of the oath she had made to one another. She hadn’t found peace since that night, instead, wandering the halls or visiting the koi ponds at dusk. Armitage had taken to locking their room after he arrived, his robes billowing about him before he carried her to bed. He’d fuck her relentlessly, claiming her body with his, and knotted her, before pulling her flush against him, both pretending to be asleep afterward.
He was better at it than she was, always tugging her back into him when she went to leave, intending to sleep on the balcony. She had only once, soon after their wedding night, when he’d found her amidst a haphazard nest she’d made on the balcony. She’d been awash in sheets and lay shivering in her nightgown when he’d taken her in hand, and brought her back to bed. After that, he’d started sleeping with her until the morning, ensuring that she stayed beside him after his knot slipped from her. No matter how long she waited, he waited longer, firmly tucking her against him and wrapping the sheets about her. “_I promised to look after you, wife_,” he’d remind her, before drawing her head to his shoulder, or against his muscular chest.
It was a forced intimacy, one that made her wish she had no craving for it. She shivered when he drew his fingers across her shoulder blades, drawing circles in tandem with kissing her jawline. He’d touch her chastely when she faced away from him, often resting his leg over her thigh, or stroked her hip with his hand. He never said a word to her, though he praised her during sex, cooing to her about what a good omega she was, and how beautiful she’d look with his pups. She’d lose herself under his words, and his touch, unable to hold back from writhing beneath it all, while tears dripped down her cheeks. It was attention that she’d never known, an attention that she wanted to receive from another, but she couldn’t bear to think of Kylo during the moments with her husband.
It was the only way that she could live, and not lose herself entirely. | b002aff7c17f4a51a486f36f7bdc7465 | ['a7c330a1f4af4bce82cbb203854bf4fd'] | Luke knew, the lilt of his voice soft; gentle. “Enough to turn the tide of the war?”
He _knew_ she wouldn’t stake lives on the answer.
She straightened, having tied her last pieces into place. Inside of the boat was her cloak; half of it stripped into pieces if she needed bandages, having left half of it large enough to use as a blanket; tucked alongside her staff, and enough salted fish and water to last her several days. One chattering lanai promised there was an island nearby, if the tides were right.
“Where will you go?”
Rey grasped the back of the boat, pushing it into the shallow water. Her light saber was strapped to her thigh; soon becoming drenched as she waded further in. She kept her breath steady (in, out-) and her head held high. She ignored the ache between her thighs, and the way the frigid water burned. She ignored the need to look up to the sky; pretending to know where _he_ was.
She wouldn’t falter, not with her back turned back to him.
“Somewhere I’m wanted,” she wanted to say. “Somewhere I’m needed and can make a life of my own.” She’d done it once before and could do it again. She could find a crowded port, and act as a mechanic until she could go back to Jakku-
She shook her head, stilling her thoughts before they could become words.
Instead she clambered into the boat, resting her back against the wood. It was a sturdy little thing, one that she’d made; the scavenging, sand rat that always survived. “Somewhere I choose,” she said.
_somewhere away from here_.
(please.)
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Connect with me: https://USER.tumblr.com/ 🌹
>
> and ask for me my discord! 🌹
>
> Beta'd by Grammarly! 🤠
2. II
LINK
Something was wrong.
Rey leaned over the side of the boat, watching as her hands drew circles across the water. She winced as cramps rippled across her pelvis; painful, deep cramps that made her thighs squeeze together.
She remembered an old woman, a beta, who carved a home for herself in Niima Outpost by treating the girls who worked in the pleasure tents. Rey had never ventured close, no matter how gaunt her cheeks were, or throat burned. The cries emanating from the tents were enough to scare her away. There were girls that wailed; high pitched, animal like sounds that she heard in her nightmares. Other times they were joined by screaming and crying; ones that made her hold her staff close and clench her jaw tight.
Once, she’d hesitated.
The old woman noticed, as she came from the tent; her hands bright red. “ _Something you want, girl?_ ”
“ _What’s happening_?” Rey asked, swallowing. “ _To her_?” She heard the girl’s screams; reminding her of a heated happabore, before they lowered into guttural, rolling moans that made uncertainty creep beneath Rey’s skin. “ _Is she hurt?”_
“ _Ah, not in the way you think, girl_.” The woman wiped her hands off on her tunic. “ _Her bleeding’s ended, and heats started. They’ll be showing up soon enough,”_ she added, blowing greasy strands of hair from her eyes.
Unwillingly, Rey stepped closer.
She knew better. She did.
“ _Who_?”
The woman gave her an appraising look. “ _Alphas. They’ll all be wanting to take a turn, I’ll expect. She’s a pleasing one, though_ ” She sniffed, “ _a noisy bitch.”_
Alphas.
Rey had scurried off then, keeping her head low as speeders passed by. She knew alphas; hulking, fearsome creatures that snapped and snarled, and took without asking. Her knuckles turned white from gripping her staff; holding it tight against her chest.
“ _I’ll never be like one of them_ ,” she repeated. “ _Never, never_ \- “
She wouldn’t be an omega; one torn apart by alphas, and mercilessly bred. She’d never hesitated at the pleasure tents again, never let herself turn her head, and look back at the open flap and girls that hung outside of it. Girls like her; ones with wide eyes that burned with need, and a body that ached for touch. For praise.
“Never,” an older, thrashing Rey repeated. She grasped the wooden sides of the boat until she felt the wood splinter beneath her fingers; embedding in her fingertips. The cramps were sharp; sharper and taunting, unlike pain she’d known before ( _how many times had she hurt? had she fallen? broken, broken-)_.
She drew handfuls of water; bathing her cheeks in it.
She wasn’t going to dream. She was going to plan; determine the life she’d have, as every rock of the boat brought her closer to land. “You’re heading North,” she told herself, ignoring the wobble of her lip. “You’ll find an island – one bustling with life, a trading hub, with fantastic creatures tucked away. You’re good with your hands,” she stressed. “Finding things. Fixing things. You’ll find work as a mechanic.” Surely there’d be someone who needed a hand. “You’re useful. You’re- “
_good girl; a good, good girl_ -
Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, holding it still. Her mouth was dry; the same as if she’d eaten handfuls of thimble weeds.
“You’re good.” She said firmly. “You’re good, Rey.”
She wished it were another saying the words; one with cradling hands and eyes that saw all of her.
* * *
She awoke with blood seeping from her.
Her hand drifted between her legs, feeling warmth there. She was so, so cold; the wind whipping about the boat. Her eyes, thick with sleep, widened as she lifted her hand upward.
“wha- “
_blood_ -
She looked down at her legs and saw red staining her leggings. She scrambled to the other side of the boat; the sides of it rocking dangerously. There, where she’d slept, was a puddle of blood; half dried on the wood.
“I’m sick,” she whispered. |
39ba9112c44948c797c9298a3feeacd7 | ['a7da90bcaf5c428aafacf270f4d7d4fa'] |
Down the Rabbit Hole
**Author's Note:**
> I wrote this together with my good friend Caro, pls follow her on twitter, she is a good egg: @canislvpvslvpvs
>
> This was beta-read by @NinesOnMain and @Leuchtezeug, feel free to follow them as well.
>
> If you still find any mistakes, please feed them to the Roomba.
>
> Enjoy ^^
It was one of _those_ days again.
"I swear to god, asshole, if you tell me how to live my life _one more time_ you’ll have to pull the bullets one by one from your blue guts!"
"I don't worry about your empty threats, you wouldn't be able to hit anything critical anyway." RK900 sounded... pissed. Almost. Somehow.
Gavin would love to pride himself, saying he'd been getting better at reading what was going on behind the cold façade the android always puts on, but truth was: He was just as clueless as he was when Connor's " _brother_ " arrived at the precinct a month ago. Markus apparently freed him, so the walking statue should technically be a deviant, but Gavin had his doubts about that.
It had been a shitty day in a shitty week in a shitty month since he'd been figuratively handcuffed to his new _partner_ by the Captain, and 900 listing off every ingredient in the donut he had been enjoying was just the straw that broke the camel's back.
He narrowed his eyes, snarled, got close to RK- trying to look intimidating even though the android was more than a head taller than him- and hissed.
" _Listen, dipshit_ , I don't _need_ to hit anything critical in your stupid plastic ass, and you know why? Because _nothing_ in there is valuable, _nothing_ in there is valid or unique, _everything_ is just worthless and _replaceable_ , you're just a fucking walking farce made of parts someone found in a dumpster and that is exactly where you're gonna end up when I-"
He didn't get to finish his sentence before a cool hand closed hard around his throat and he was slammed into the wall with enough force to make all the air leave his lungs in a constrained huff.
RK900's face was close, his anger showing only in the blood red light at his temple and the microexpressions on his face; slightly narrowed eyes, tight jaw, and the upper lip curled into a faint impression of a disgusted snarl.
Gavin knew sixteen ways to get out of a chokehold, and probably four of them could work against RKs superhuman strength.
But something... something was off. Something was weird. Different. The android said nothing. Just stared at him.
And things went southward from there, because Gavin noticed the thing that had put him off from the moment his back hit the wall.
His eyes widened in surprise when, instead of aiming to crush his windpipe, Gavin noticed RK was expertly executing a _breath control_ grip.
Gavin had been both a cop and a submissive long enough to know the exact difference between a real chokehold and breath play.
There was no doubt in his deduction: RK900 was _playing_ with him.
Like a feline with its prey.
The anger in Gavin's head turned into shock, turned into confusion, turned into a whole lot of chaos, because the realization that RK was not trying to kill him, but was instead trying to assert _dominance_ was seriously fucking with his mind. Logic mixed with anger and lingering subspace, and his feet barely touched the ground, 900 fingers locked perfectly behind his jawbone.
_He needed to get back in control._
Of the situation. Of himself.
"What, that's all you got, trash can? Pathetic," Gavin forced out, a derisive grin on his face. RKs eyes narrowed even further and he pressed his thumb down on Gavin's carotid artery, just enough to make him feel it, just enough to take his pulse, and Gavin lost the ability to breathe.
Four ways to get out of this chokehold, technically three 'cause he still didn’t have firm ground under his feet. But the question was, would they work?
A growing part of him didn't want them to work, and he snarled- both at RK and himself- before gasping for air as the pressure receded just a bit. He felt dizzy, lightheaded due to the constricted blood flow, bringing not enough oxygen to his brain, which was already confused anyhow.
"I wouldn't advise such a behavior, Detective. Not in your position." 900's voice sounded cold and unbothered, as if he just performed a basic task instead of breath-playing with his fucking colleague.
"Eat shit and let me go, or I'm gonna report you for assault of an officer," Gavin growled. The words lacked their intended bite due to the rasp of his abused throat, and RK didn't even flinch.
"So do it. Your extraordinary hatred for androids makes your claim so much more believable." He let go and Gavin sagged to his feet with a huff.
Then RK turned around and left for his desk without any other comment or reaction. It felt like a victory and a loss at the same time.
Gavin tried to hide his little coughs as he moved his hand over his neck and let his eyes follow after RK.
"Fucking asshole," he murmured, rubbing his throat. He would have bruises tomorrow. Maybe even as early as tonight.
He looked around, but luckily nobody seemed to care about their fights anymore.
It told a lot about how often they argued. Fowler wouldn't make a drama out of it, after all he was the one setting Reed up with RK900 in the first place. The Captain sure as hell had expected this.
There was just something about the android that made Gavin _want_ to piss him off. Maybe his perfect stoic face that never seemed to show any hint of emotion, so every little outbreak felt like a victory. Even if his throat had to suffer for it. | 123e68f4e55d406f81ac56f1d77dbc72 | ['a7da90bcaf5c428aafacf270f4d7d4fa'] |
1. Chapter 1
**Author's Note:**
> __
> **ATTENTION!**
>
> _This fic is the result of a **chat conversation** with my good friend Kathi (@_Phoenixrage on twitter, go follow her). It’s a product of a thing we do that we call **“scening”** , where one person writes a message with a story and the other person continues the story in the next messages, going back and forth. This particular scene took place over **13 days** , so please consider this if you find any continuity errors._
>
>
>
>
>
> _Also, English is both our second language, so if you find any mistakes, please report them to CyberLife._
>
>
>
> _Enjoy ^^_
Gavin’s mind is a traitor.
He sits at his desk in the office and is definitely not thinking about RK's hands. Those strong, precise fingers.
On his chest.
Around his wrists.
His dick.
_His throat._
Definitely not.
Not again.
He's definitely not wondering what he'd look like, taking this stupid uniform off, holding a whip in his hands, telling him what to do with his oh so soft voice.
God.
Stop it.
_This does not belong at work, Reed._
It's not like those thoughts don't follow at him even after work when he's not directly confronted with this plastic toy. And it's almost even more difficult to keep them in control and to not just go with them, enjoy them, _take use of them._
Still, even though his fantasies take him there more often than probably healthy, the precinct is not the place to get exhibistionistic.
Especially not about an android.
He just needs to get this thoughts, to get _him_ out of his mind.
Usually sex is the place to go to, but they're on a hard case and letting lose over a weekend is proving to be difficult.
Having to work with this fucking plastic tease almost constantly also really doesn't make things better. Quite the opposite. But Gavin really has to focus on the case. He can't let those thoughts distract him like that.
So Gavin does what Gavin usually does: throwing himself into work to keep his mind busy.
He knows he's burning himself out, but who the fuck cares. He's survived solely on coffee and 2 hours of sleep before, he'll do it again.
\---
"Detective, you need some rest."
"Relax, tinman, it's not the first all-nighter I've pulled."
"For once you are correct. It's the _third_ one this week. 6 hours of sleep per week is not a healthy amount for a human."
_For a human._
"Listen, Robocop, how much I sleep is none of your business, so shut up or go into standby because I got work to do and I can do it best without a plastic douchebag telling me what to do."
RK900 slightly narrows his eyes, LED flickering. Then he keeps talking, in that fucking soft voice that makes Gavin want to punch him in the throat
"I understand you want to help this people by solving the case. But burning yourself out won't help you. You'll only become less efficient and more frustrated. A good night of sleep might help you to get a fresh view on your progress."
"The only thing frustrating me here is you not shutting your stupid mouth."
"Fine. If that's what you want", the android says briskly and then turns around to walk away.
Gavin looks after him, frowing.
Did he-...did he just really manage to scare away that android that's following at him since the very first day they became partners?
He should feel proud. He wanted to achieve that since said first day.
But somehow...he doesn't.
It angers him.
And the lack of sleep mixed with the shitload of coffee he drank surely doesn't help to keep this anger in control.
Maybe that prick was right. Maybe he really should go home.
Though his pride almost doesn't let him take a break now, he feels like he'll explode if he stays any longer.
It's excruciating.
That's it. He decides to go home. Either that or he'll beat up the next person that dares to say just _anything_ to him.
He murmurs some weak excuse to Fowler who's just passing by, but the Captain seems not bothered at all: "Finally, I thought I had to remove you forcefully."
Gavin just leaves without any more words. Without wondering if RK900 is happy, now that he gave in, and walks out to go home. Without even caring.
He is almost out the door without complication, when...
"Where are you going, Detective?"
The voice almost gives him a heart attack and he's ready to spin around to punch RK900 in the face, when his brain catches the slightly off pitch, to turn around and see it's just Connor. Plain, old Connor.
He never thought there'd ever be a moment in which he's sort of relieved to see Connor, but in this moment he is. He's glad he doesn't have to deal with RK900 being smug about him leaving.
"Home. To bed."
Connor nods "You look like you need it. Have a good night."
It strikes Gavin again, how different the two RK-models are, despite looking so alike.
The only thing they seem to have in common is that they both occasionally just can't keep their mouth shut about stuff that is none of their business. With Connor, it's just annoying. It's like he can't stop giving "helpful" advice over and over and over again, even then when it's really not requested or needed. But with RK900, it's sort of-...provoking. Yet determining. He's not seeming to give advice, he's seeming to give commands. And it's fucking Gavin up. Why should he ever take a command by a fucking plastic toy?!
He bluntly ignores the fact that he kind of is taking a command by him, right now. |
fc430fa4632e4e04b9cf7447a8830254 | ['a7e2e9518d33471795a99eb0ef9de3bd'] | And then it happened. Ian’s eyes roamed, openly and blatantly scanning over the length of Mickey’s body, as he licked his lip before taking in a deep breath. “Trust me,” his voice had dropped an octave. When those hazel eyes found their way back to Mickey’s he smiled. “I am.”
_Holy fucking shit_ , Mickey thought to himself as he drew in a shaky breath. He forced himself to look away, looking back at the television.
The clack of heels on the hardwood floor stirred them both. Then came the excited shrill of Mandy’s voice. “Ok, I’m ready.”
Mickey stood the same time Ian did and turned to face Mandy. “Woah,” they uttered simultaneously.
Mickey knew they’d made a good choice going with one-strap gown. It hugged her torso and made a long flow-y skirt that shimmered a bit. She’d retired the nose ring for the night but wore rhinestone earrings to match the gem on her waist. Half of her hair was pinned up and the rest fell like black subtle waves down her back.
“You look incredible,” Ian complimented. “Am I allowed to say that?” Mandy grinned.
“How should I know? I skipped the sexual harassment seminar-probably shouldn’t have told you that.” He walked over and gave her a hug. “You’re lookin’ pretty hot yourself,” she complimented back.
He laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure _that_ was covered in the seminar.” He took a step back for another look. “And it seems like you had no trouble finding a dress.”
“Yeah. Mickey helped me,” she nodded to her brother who’d taken a stance of protection with his arms crossed over her chest, though something in him questioned which one he was protecting. “He’s a pretty decent judge of character.”
Ian bit at his bottom lip as he smiled. “What do you think of me, so far?”
Mickey eyed him, unsure of his actions but did his best to seem confident. “I’d have to do a further inspection.” There was only so far he could teeter before Mandy figured it out.
“We should be leaving,” Mandy suggested. Ian nodded in agreement and allowed her to drag him towards the door. “Don’t fuck with my shit, Mickey. I swear to God,” she threatened over her shoulder.
Ian turned back at the door, a smile Mickey was sure was supposed to be seductive (spoiler: it worked). “It was nice meeting you.”
Mickey nodded and sunk back into the couch when the door closed. “Holy shit,” he muttered under his breath.
* * *
“Are you man- hunting tonight?” Mandy asked, stretched out over her brother’s lap. “That’s , like, the third time this week. When did your sex drive kick in?”
_Since your boss came struttin’ in here with his stupid muscles and sexy smiles and stupid eyes. Fuck him. Can I? Can he fuck me? Fuck._ Mickey shrugged. “I dunno. I’m man-strating.” It was the Friday after Ian had came over with his tux. Since then, Mickey’s had a growing number of fantasies featuring Ian; he’s sure he’s gotten off once or twice just to the thought of _all_ that lied under that suit- that’s when he turned into a sex-crazed teenage boy all over again. Twice this week so far he’s been at his favorite gay bar, picking up a quick fuck just to get his mind off the ginger man he actually wanted. But he wasn’t sure how long he could keep this up. There was something that scared him about doing this, like maybe he’d forget about ever wanting Ian.
“Well, you can count me out of your horn-fest,” Mandy said. “There’s a strange amount of straight dudes at gay bars.”
“Wasn’t gonna ask you to come anyways, bitch,” Mickey mumbled, loud enough for Mandy to hear. In response, she swung her arm to smack him in the face. “Douchebag,” she mumbled back before she sat up.
“Have fun eating dick!” she called as he closed the door. He rolled his eyes as her cackles were muffled.
There were many benefits to their new location. One that Mickey appreciated at the moment was how close to Boystown they were. His favorite club was artfully called “The Closet” (and, admittedly, that was the only one he really knew about). It was Gay and Lesbian bar, which suited Mickey enough since he never stayed long enough to see drunk Lesbos make out or anything of the sort.
He was greeted with the same atmosphere: people laughing, dancing, drinking, having fun and enjoying the high of being free. That’s what had drawn Mickey to this place- the freedom. Before he’d even come out, he’d venture over here a few times, but not nearly as often as he did once he moved out and trudged along with Mandy. He gave a small smile, taking an empty seat at the bar and glanced around before ordering a beer. The music blared, but it wasn’t obnoxious to the point where his bones rattled to the beat of the bass. And there were men with suits, probably coming by after a day at the office or whatever. He always came appropriately dressed, but sometimes- even with the sense of freedom- he felt this was the place where he didn’t belong.
“Mickey Milkovich,” he heard a voice call to him. It was fairly close, but when he turned around in his stool, he wasn’t expecting to get an eye full of the red head so quickly.
“Hey,” Mickey answered, checking out Ian and his choice of attire on this Friday night. He wore a light blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, neatly tucked into dark wash jeans all ending with black sneakers. With a smirk, he teased, “What, is it casual Friday?”
Ian shrugged, closing in to lean against the bar next to where Mickey sat. He was the closest Mickey’s sure he’s ever been. “Not all of us get the luxury of going home before we can have fun.” | 285973dea7294c2380da461b1c972b8c | ['a7e2e9518d33471795a99eb0ef9de3bd'] | He took out his phone, hoping to find some release in the next best form of communication rather than face-to-face.
_Mickey: Gallagher_
_Ian: …_
_Mickey: I got your number from Mandy’s phone chill_
_Ian: how fuckin hard would it have been to just say “its mickey”?_
Mickey grinned to himself, feeling his anger seep from him.
_Mickey: wtf happened to you? got tired of my house that quickly?_
_Ian: nope_
_Ian: got tired of having to back away whenever mandy came around_
Mickey stopped where he was on the steps, not sure how to respond. He stared at the text until the phone went black on its own and continued up the stairs, feeling a fluttering sensation in his stomach, bubbling up to his chest and ending up on his face as he kept his tight grin all the way through the turnstile and up the stairs and on the platform as he waited for the train to come.
Once the train come and he’d found a seat in the corner of the train, he took out his phone.
_Mickey: so whyd you get back on the train at the fuckin school?_
_Ian: Something incredibly crazy and I dont think you wanna know_
_Mickey: if I didnt wanna know why would I ask dumbass_
_Ian: I just cant explain it through text_
Mickey thought of his reply, changing it three times from “well you have my number” to “try me” to “cant say it over text? that could easily be arranged”.
He mulled over what he could respond with as he got off the train, passing through busy people only interested in getting to their destinations in the shortest amount of time possible.
He got to his house, still not knowing what to reply with. He sighed, deciding to go with “maybe later” just to keep the conversation going. He’d gotten settled into his bed, not realizing how truly exhausted he was until he’d discarded his bags and coat and most of his clothes and settled into his bed.
_Ian: hold on. Gotta take care of the situation_
Mickey’s mind wandered. What could the situation possibly? Did it involve Ian holding a gun? Did it involve fighting for his sibling’s honor? Was that supposed to be as hot as Mickey felt it to be?
Before he could even realize, he’d drifted off to sleep.
-------------
In the time span of two days, Mickey had turned into his sister: a fifteen year old girl.
He’d spent most of the time in bed or on his couch, texting Ian about meaningless things and the really deep things when it rolled around to 2 o’clock in the morning. He faintly remember Mandy mentioning that was what she did with Cody a few weeks after camp. She never mentioned him a month after that, so that’s when he knew Cody was gone for good. And though he did want to worry for many reasons (he wasn’t trying to grow a pair of tits and start getting all batshit emotional) he reminded himself of a few things on why Ian wasn’t Cody. Ian, for one, was gay. That was it, actually. And he still couldn’t get over that one simple, game changing fact.
“Yo,” Mandy blurted out as she swung open Mickey’s door on Sunday. “I’m going to Orland with Maya and Stacy.”
Mickey grumbled. “Why the fuck are you going so early?”
“It’s noon, dipshit. I just wanted to tell you so you know that I’ll be home before dad gets back.”
“And how the hell are you getting out to Orland, pray- _fuckin_ -tell?” Mickey finally opened his eyes to glance at Mandy’s form at his door.
“Maya’s sister is givin’ us a ride, duh. Do something productive today, for fuck’s sakes. Go meet up with that chick you’ve been texting all weekend.” Seeing Mickey’s face sprout to alertness she nodded. “Yeah, I noticed. I’m not blind, Mick, _Jesus_. Ok. See ya later.” She closed the door and made her way down the stairs before Mickey heard the softest “Love you” ever.
Mickey tried to go back to sleep before his phone vibrated on his nightstand. He doesn’t even remember what he and Gallagher had been talking about-
Mickey sat up quickly, the realization coming all at once. He was brought to all too quickly; feeling in his hands and feet and everywhere in between came rushing to him as he fumbled for his phone, not even bothering to read whatever the text said.
Once he heard the phone ringing, he could feel himself steadying a bit.
Ian picked up, acknowledging with, “Mickey.”
“Gallagher,” Mickey countered, noting how heavy and sleep ridden his voice sounded. “Mandy’s going to Orland.”
Ian was silent, uncomprehending. “Good for her?” And at the same moment that Mickey spoke, Ian understood, blurting out with, “Oh!”
“Yeah,” he slid from out of his covers, starting the phone-conversational pace. “So, I have a few hours with an empty house…” Why the fuck couldn’t he just get the words out? He needed a massive shot of hormones in his system. “A-and, you know, there wouldn’t be anyone to, like, you know.”
He listened to the low chuckle that came from Ian, and the sound went straight through him, igniting his weary presence. “Mick, is that your way of asking me to come over?”
“Maybe you could keep your voice down? What if one of your 500 siblings hears you?”
“Right, right,” Ian agreed mockingly. “Hey, Liam, you know anything about booty calls?” Mickey rolled his eyes as he heard the giggling coming from the youngest Gallagher. “Didn’t think so.”
Mickey wanted to correct him. Shit, it wasn’t just a booty call. They’d do other stuff, too. But there was no plausible way of saying any of that without sounding like he was getting an extra dose of estrogen. “Whatever, just get your ass over here.” He hung up, not waiting for Ian’s answer.
\-------------- |
04bff7b0642a4c9c8afffbe7f1b8fc68 | ['a7f9cf40072a4f349aa8e3b11936e061'] | Draco shrugged, but he couldn’t stop the small grin from making its way onto his face. They didn’t say anything more until they got to Luna’s kitchen.
Longbottom was getting mugs from a high cupboard while Luna fiddled with what seemed to be two hundred different types of tea.
“Peppermint, please,” Potter asked as he slumped down into a chair at the long wooden table.
“I quite fancy some Vanilla and Blackberry,” Longbottom announced, holding up a light purple box.
Luna grinned at Draco’s slightly dubious expression. “What would you like, Draco?”
Draco sat down across from Potter. “Just some Earl Gray, if you have it.”
Luna seemed to slump slightly, but she didn’t lose her smile. Draco felt Potter’s foot collide with his shin, and he frowned at him.
“What?” he mouthed. Potter gestured toward Luna, who was digging through her boxes quite unenthusiastically. Draco cleared his throat.
“Actually, Luna, I’ve changed my mind. Do you have something with rose?”
As Luna immediately perked up and started rattling off various different flavours, Draco was overwhelmed with how comfortable everything was. Potter seemed pleased to have cheered up his friend, and Longbottom was smiling contentedly as he poured boiling water into their mugs.
He wanted this, Draco realised. He wanted a little piece of the world that he could call his own. He wanted somebody to care enough about him to drink weird tea just because it made him happy, and friends who would levitate him in the air for hours while he dripped blue paint on their heads. He knew that if Luna agreed to let him stay, it would likely just be temporary and he would have to look for his own place once the school year ended, but at least now he had an idea of what home is supposed to look like.
Once they were all sipping on their various hot drinks, Luna looked at Draco expectantly.
“What do you need, Draco?”
Draco swallowed heavily. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that he really did not belong anywhere. How was he supposed to admit that not even his parents wanted him anymore, especially with Potter watching him with that annoying, concerned expression and Luna looking like she would sell the entire world in order to give Draco what he needed?
Draco glanced at Longbottom, who seemed to understand.
“Luna, can Draco stay in the spare room for a while? He’s had a disagreement with his parents, and I wasn’t about to leave him to fend for himself in the muggle world.”
Potter snorted, and Draco glared at him. Of course the git would choose to laugh at the most inappropriate time. He shrugged apologetically and sipped at his tea, but Draco was still aware of the annoying smirk on his face.
Luna, on the other hand, seemed to just radiate excitement. “Of course! It’s going to be so much fun, and I won’t have to wonder when you’ll visit me again. I’ll go clean up right now.”
Draco felt a stab of guilt as he watched his cousin skip out of the room. He should have made more of an effort with her, but he didn’t think she really wanted to spend time with him. He assumed she was only doing it out of kindness, and maybe some familial obligation. He certainly wouldn’t have been this forgiving if the tables had been reversed and he had been the one to be kept prisoner in her dungeons.
Potter seemed to recognise what he was feeling, because he leaned forward and snapped his fingers to gain Draco’s attention. Draco was about to comment on the barbaric nature of the action, but he stopped when he saw the earnestness in Potter’s expression.
“Look, Malfoy, don’t go beating yourself up over every bit of kindness people show you. Just because you made mistakes doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be treated like a person.”
Longbottom nodded. “And you can’t be that oblivious. Family isn’t exactly something that any of us have magnitudes of. You’re Luna’s family, so live up to that.”
Draco met Potter’s gaze again, and he was reminded of the intense way he had looked at him in that bar, while Draco had been apologising. Potter seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because he said, “Do you remember what you told me? Prove to Luna that she made the right decision taking you in. Prove it to yourself, as well.”
Draco was at a loss for words, so instead he just finished the last of his tea. Potter stood up, placing his empty mug in the sink.
“Are either of you hungry? I’ve been craving some fish and chips.”
Draco had had no intention of helping with Luna’s painting project. He didn’t like to get dirty, and he wasn’t about to mess blue paint all over his favourite robes.
That is why he had no fathomable idea how he got roped into joining the paint war that ended with them all lying in a wet pile on the grass outside, slightly cold but content with watching the stars and taking turns to cast a warming charm. | 28255ea7ebe641999e8da624b3a89791 | ['a7f9cf40072a4f349aa8e3b11936e061'] | George looked surprised to see Ginny, but then his expression hardened again. “No.”
Harry looked at Ginny for a long moment. She looked to be five minutes away from giving up again.
“Okay.” Harry stepped into the room and took a seat on Fred’s bed. He knew George would freak out about it, which was exactly what he wanted. “I’m not leaving until you come with us. But once you cooperate for a few hours, I will leave you alone forever, and I’ll just let you rot in this room for as long as you want.”
George shrugged. “I’m not going.”
Ginny raised an eyebrow at Harry, who shrugged. “Then neither am I.”
Ginny came back to check on him two hours later. He was still sitting in the exact same spot she’d left him in, but now he was talking relentlessly.
“So, I think they might be onto something with the whole flat earth speculation. Charlie agrees that the ban of any Muggle aircraft flying over Antarctica is suspicious. I’m still trying to figure out whether the origin of this whole debate is magical or Muggle. What do you think?”
George ignored Harry, continuing to glare at the lump of mysterious material on the floor. Harry was about to start listing reasons why the earth’s shape couldn’t possibly be determined only by Muggles and what they think they knew of the world, when he was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Are you hungry?” Ginny asked.
Harry shrugged. “Not until we get going. We can grab something to eat in Diagon.”
“Fuck. Off.” George grumbled. He was getting progressively angrier at Harry. Harry took that as a good sign. Even though the twins didn’t make a habit of losing their temper, even anger was better than the numb look George had been sporting recently.
“Right, okay. Are we almost leaving, then?” Ginny was speaking to George now, and he looked up at her through his eyelashes.
She was playing dirty. George had a soft spot the size of Russia for his sister, and she normally had him wrapped around her little finger. Harry knew that if Ginny were to actually try and put some pressure on him, he would crack within minutes.
When George didn’t answer, Harry spoke up. “Are you joining me, Gin? I’ve just been trying to figure out what that piece of shit is supposed to be. George refuses to give me a hint.”
Ginny frowned. “George.”
George shrugged. “Leave.”
“Harry told you,” Ginny said, letting the door close behind her. “We’re not going anywhere unless you’re with us.”
George sighed deeply and closed his eyes tightly. His hands shook when he put down his wand so he could hide his face in both of his hands. “I can’t- “
This is it, Harry thought. Something real, at last.
Ginny went over to her brother and pulled him in. His forehead rested against her stomach and he clutched tightly at her shirt.
“Please don’t make me go there.”
Harry also went closer. “This is why you have to, Georgie.”
Ginny ran her fingers through George’s hair. “You’re avoiding him, and until you face your loss head on, you’re not going to heal. He’s going to keep haunting everything you do, and that’s no way to live.”
It took a few minutes for George to get his breathing under control. He was still shaking, and he looked like he’d rather have a fork shoved through his eyes at that moment, but he nodded.
Ginny placed a kiss on top of his head. “Okay, let’s go.”
They flooed to Flourish and Blotts. Luckily, it didn’t seem to be a peak shopping day at Diagon Alley. Aside from the bored-looking cashier, there was only one woman in the bookshop. Harry and Ginny bracketed George in between them and quickly made their way to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Harry knew the shop would be neat and clean, almost empty since he and Ginny had gone through the contents.
They hesitated outside, and George looked deathly pale. Harry placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You okay?”
George took a deep breath, but nodded. “I think- could you maybe give me a few minutes?” His voice cracked slightly, and Harry felt his heart break all over again for his friend.
Harry squeezed his shoulder. “Whatever you need.”
Ginny took his hand. “I’m so proud of you.”
George shook them off, then walked up the steps as if his feet were moving on their own. The door shut behind him with a very anticlimactic sound, and Harry let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.
Ginny came closer to him, and he grabbed her hand tightly. She hid her face in his shoulder.
“That was hard.” She mumbled. Harry had to agree.
When George eventually came back out, Harry and Ginny were sitting next to each other on the steps, watching the trickle of people passing them every now and then, and making a game out of guessing what they were on their way to buy.
“You don’t think he’s going to get his robes fitted properly?” Ginny asked.
Harry scoffed. “No, he looks like he deals with customer relations at Gringotts. He’s probably on his way to stock up on firewhiskey to fuel his stress-induced drinking habit.”
“Or he’s run out of diapers for his new-born baby.”
Both of them turned around at the unexpected voice.
George’s eyes were red, and he looked just about dead on his feet. He sunk down in between Harry and Ginny, and they put both of their arms around him.
“Could we get ice cream, do you think? Is that appropriate?” George mumbled.
Harry chuckled. “Who cares about appropriateness? Fred certainly never did.”
George also let out a faint chuckle, which soon turned into a sob. |
70f4fdf4882b4899ba938604b8c34398 | ['a7ff183c39354fcb9c32753f2c43cc99'] | **spearB:** @literalkoala need a lift?? i could pick you up?
* * *
** literalkoala **
**Liked by spearB, jinhyunhwang, gomjin and 72 others**
**literalkoala:** movie time !
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**5 comments**
**j.i.s.u.n.g:** WHO DECIDED THIS WAS A GOOD MOVIE TO WATCH
**seung.min.nie:** @j.i.s.u.n.g are you saying harry potter was a bad choice ? ? ?
**leeknow:** @j.i.s.u.n.g me :33
**inininnie:** i love harry potter !
**j.i.s.u.n.g:** i take everything back — harry potter is wonderful
* * *
** spearB **
**Liked by literalkoala, leeknow, j.i.s.u.n.g and 244 others**
**spearB:** beanbags are the seats of the gods
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**42 comments**
**literalkoala:** true
**leeknow:** false?? who would want to sit on a beanbag when you can have a whole couch ? ?
**spearB:** @leeknow me
**leeknow:** @spearB but polystyrene balls ,,,,,, why would you ever want to deal with them ,,,,, ?? ?
**literalkoala:** point conceded @leeknow i have converted to your side
* * *
** seung.min.nie **
**Liked by inininnie, channnn, jinhyunhwang and 121 others**
**seung.min.nie:** love a good sleep over
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**13 comments**
**jinhyunhwang:** all the more time together ! ! ! !
**inininnie:** i am drowning in the romance here
**channnn:** @inininnie we’re not making you comfortable are we ??
**inininnie:** i’m aroace but not opposed to seeing others in relationships —— i’m just very aware that i am the only single in the room lmao
**spearB:** you ‘re not though ? @inininnie
* * *
** channnn **
**Liked by gomjin, literalkoala, j.i.s.u.n.g and 231 others**
**channnn:** why do they call it a sleep over if no one sleeps ?
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**23 comments**
**jinhyunhwang:** well ,,,,, you’re meant to sleep a some point or another … . . .
**gomjin:** @channnn you not /not/ meant to pass over your sleeping pills for the sake of a sleep over _[comment deleted]_
**literalkoala:** lol no @jinhyunhwang you’re meant to pull an all nighter until you crash the next afternoon and regret not doing your homework
**channnn:** @gomjin right about that , , , , , uhhhhhh can i like ?? idk talk to you in private about that ?? _[comment deleted]_
**inininnie:** technically its only called a sleep over because you sleep over at someone else’s house….
* * *
** jinhyunhwang **
**Liked by seung.min.nie, literalkoala, channnn and 263 others**
**jinhyunhwang:** why did the morning have to come ?
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**8 comments**
**inininnie:** we’ll see each other at school on monday …. .
**j.i.s.u.n.g:** dsfgsdfgsydfg can it ,,, like ,,, not ??
**leeknow:** @inininnie *you’ll see each other at school on monday —— @channnn @gomjin and i have a study skills seminar in the city fml
**seung.min.nie:** sounds fun…. @leeknow
**leeknow:** @seung.min.nie i think we’ll be lucky to survive the day tbh
* * *
** inininnie **
**Liked by gomjin, leeknow, spearB and 172 others**
**inininnie:** sorry for the spam lmao
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**13 comments**
**gomjin:** awww this is cute! !
**j.i.s.u.n.g:** was this from last night ? i’m surprised we don’t look more sleep deprived
**literalkoala:** send it to me ?
**channnn:** i love this so much
**leeknow:** yayayayayay thank you everyone for the weekend ! ! ! !
* * *
** literalkoala **
**Liked by spearB, inininnie, seung.min.nie and 52 others**
**literalkoala:** yikes so my parents forgot to pick me up again ! love a stable family !
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**9 comments**
**spearB:** i’ll drop you home — where are you? mum said i could use the car
**channnn:** felix ….. that’s not good …
**literalkoala:** @spearB taekwondo — i’ll text you the address
**inininnie:** oh no… i’ve also got your charger i think…
**literalkoala:** @channnn dw its fine @inininnie maybe can swap it at school on monday . . ?
* * *
** j.i.s.u.n.g **
**Liked by spearB, channnn, gomjin and 432 others**
**j.i.s.u.n.g:** jam session ! !
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**52 comments**
**leeknow:** were you making anything ?
**seung.min.nie:** cool!!
**j.i.s.u.n.g:** @leeknow nope! just playing around ! we’re ready to release the other stuff we’re just waited for a good time lol
**inininnie:** ahhhhh you always look awesome in these photos
**leeknow:** @j.i.s.u..n.g i can’t wait to see it ! ! ! ! ! !
* * *
** leeknow **
**Liked by channnn, gomjin, j.i.s.u.n.g and 129 others**
**leeknow:** okay so i regret turning up to this seminar thing
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**31 comments**
**gomjin:** tell me about it ….
**j.i.s.u.n.g:** was it that bad??
**channnn:** @j.i.s.u.n.g it wasn’t so bad until they basically started implying all this stuff about filial piety and all the rest of that fun stuff
**seung.min.nie:** yikes .. . .
**leeknow:** so now i know! the school is pressuring me to become a lawyer just as much as my parents are! love school!
* * *
** channnn **
**Liked by gomjin, literalkoala, seung.min.nie and 252 others**
**channnn:** so announcement for anyone who particularly cares to know — medication changed again so hopefully i’ll be an active participant in life at some point in the foreseeable future, , ,
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**32 comments**
**literalkoala:** _literally how do you have the self confidence to post about this sort of stuff on a public platform ? ?_
**gomjin:** proud of you :))
**channnn:** @literalkoala _lmao bold to assume i have self confidence —— everyone who follows this account i know personally so its just fastest way to distribute information to anyone who might care and its not like its a secret that im on 20 thousand medications_
**channnn:** @gomjin :)))
**jinhyunhwang:** yay chan!!
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** spearB **
**Liked by leeknow, seung.min.nie, inininnie and 273 others**
**spearB:** love me some good cake
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**32 comments**
**literalkoala:** is this from the sleep over ?
**gomjin:** me too tbh
**leeknow:** anyone who isn’t low-key living for cake is kidding themself
**spearB:** @literalkoala of course !
**jinhyunhwang:** big mood tbh
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** gomjin **
**Liked by channnn, jinhyunhwang, leeknow and 93 others**
**gomjin:** stressstressstressstressstressstress lskjgdlskfjgklsdfjgfd
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**9 comments**
**leeknow:** me rn
**literalkoala:** why so stressed? !
**inininnie:** are you alright ? <3 | fce38c65cd134e36ae1ee15019442c3a | ['a7ff183c39354fcb9c32753f2c43cc99'] | Resolutely, Chan pressed some more keys in front of him and tried to get the music to stop. It was all blue, but it was the wrong blue. It was Woojin’s blue but not exactly and it sounded as wrong as it looked and felt. Everything about the shade made Chan feel sick and panicky and he could not understand why.
Neither could either of his bandmates who were looking increasingly concerned.
“Let’s finish up for now, hyung,” Changbin tried, looking extremely uncomfortable. He waited for a few seconds for any sign of a response. There was none. “It’ll be easier to work on if we do it tomorrow, with fresh eyes. Or, we can finish off some of the lyrics if you’d rather do that.”
“I can’t leave,” Chan said stiffly. He let his hands relax on the keyboard, not pressing any notes but only a Newton away from doing so. His actions felt robotic, like he was not fully aware or in control of what his body was doing. All he could focus on was getting rid of the blue before it drove him insane.
For days, it had been like a loose screw in the back of his mind, slowly wriggling looser and looser. Abruptly, it was manifesting into a disaster that made Chan feel like he was losing control of himself and his mind. He shook his head again, refusing to listen.
Changbin finally stood up having lost his patience. “This is ridiculous, hyung. We need to sleep and you do, too. You’ve barely even sat down since we started this who debut gig. This is your body telling you to stop. You're crashing and if you keep working, you're just going to work yourself into the ground and end up in, I don't know, a hospital or something!”
Chan frowned and turned to Changbin slowly. His neck cricked painfully as he did so but he did his best to ignore it. “I’ve survived this long, haven’t I? And, I can’t. I have to finish it,” he repeated desperately. His voice cracked and everything itched with frustration and a desperation to do anything to stop the blue.
Jisung was suddenly looking unnerved and like he was beginning to understand what was happening. “Hyung, calm down,” he said. “We can run it once more, but we should stop after that. Changbin-hyung is right, we really should leave it until tomorrow when we’ve all got some sleep.”
Chan’s fingers curled inwards and he scratched his hands restlessly. “Fine,” he agreed distantly. Anything to get them off his back for long enough for him to fix the song. Without the track playing, his vision was clearing although it did nothing to soothe the irritation that was clawing at him like a rabid animal, demanding immediate attention or else threatening infection and insanity.
Changbin and Jisung exchanged another nervous look and finally let Chan play the music again.
As soon as the first chord played, a cloud of blue consumed Chan. It was suffocating and Chan was choking. The room had become a vacuum and he had no air left. His fingers shook as he tried to press different cords and find some way to get rid of the colour.
It was disgusting. Everything about the blue made vomit rise in Chan's throat and threaten to emerge. It was wrong and nothing Chan thought could overpower his instinctual reaction of it being completely unnatural.
He buckled forwards and his hands fell away from the keyboard, instead rising to his eyes. He screwed them as tightly shut as he could and then pressed his hands into his eye sockets, trying to stop the blue from showing anymore. It didn’t work.
Chan had no way explain what it was that was so wrong. All he could do was whimper, grunt and gasp for air as his breathing became more and more erratic. He was slowly suffocating and would turn as blue as the song in a cruel twist of irony.
Jisung turned the music off, but Chan did not register it. It still rang in his ears like a church bell and he could not bear it. Desperately, he pulled his hands away from his eyes – still screwed shut – and scratched at his ears, trying to stop himself from hearing anything more.
If he took his ears off, then so be it. Chan did not care about the length to which he went to get rid of the sound. All he knew was that he needed it to stop. It would drive him insane if it did not.
For a few seconds at a time, he would remove one hand from his ears and wave it around in front of him, as though he could felt off the colour. There was no way to physically fight a colour, though. Not even screwing his eyes shut made a difference. It was a projection of his mind, after all, and darkness was not a barrier to his brain.
Jisung said something in alarm and abruptly disappeared from the room. Changbin flickered between trying to flatten himself into the wall and pulling Chan’s hands away from his ears when he managed to scratch the skin with enough pressure to cause blood to well to the surface.
Chan’s world was covered in blue streamers and all he wanted was for them to go away. He could not register anything: he was in over his head.
Jisung came back with Woojin in tow and within mere seconds, he and Changbin had disappeared from the room, Woojin had pulled Chan away from the desk and to his bed and then held his wrists tightly, well away from his head. Woojin was talking in a quiet voice that Chan couldn’t understand but it was _Woojin’s blue again_. That in itself was enough to start to calm him. |
df3bb1a194644a42bc82a0874ed6a9af | ['a802cb1fc54646f39b17e05672b397dc'] | “They won’t let us look at dead person.” Sherlock says.
“They’ll let us, don’t worry.” I say him and go to police tape. I can perfectly see my uncle so I try to go to him but “Hey kids you can’t be here.” Some weird policeman stops to us.
I smile at him “Could you call DI Lestrade please? I have to talk to him.” Policeman look at you confused and he is about to refuse “Just call him or we get to him without your permission. Your choice.” Sherlock says to him.
Policeman nods and turn around to Lestrade. When Lestrade sees me he runs to hug me.”(y/n) what are you doing here? I don’t have time right now.”
I hug him back and smile at him “Uncle Greg it’s nice to see you again. Could you do us a favor and let us see the murder?”
“No (y/n) absolutely not.”
“But we’ll solve it for you, I can see that your team is full of idiots.”
“Who is this guy?” Lestrade asks.
“Friend of mine, Sherlock Holmes. Uncle please, five minutes at crime scene” I say giving him puppy eyes and see that I break him.
“Okay, but no longer.” He says and I hug him. ”Thank you uncle, you are best.” He sighs “I know, I know.”
Then Lestrade leads us to crime scene. He opens doors and we see dead man lying on bed. Suddenly Sherlock and I say at the same time “Shut up” to Lestrade.
He looks at us “I didn’t say anything.”
Sherlock answers “You were thinking.”
“It’s annoying.” I finish and look at Sherlock who is smiling at me. I return him smile and then I concentrate to victim.
“Victim is 30 years old. He was killed-“I start sentence and put mine gloves on my hands and start examine him. Sherlock makes his way to me and finish my sentence. “He was stabbed to neck, chest and stomach.”
“Killer was right-handed, probably woman. Sherlock look at these wounds, surgery work.” I murmur.
“Was his wife doctor or something like that?” Sherlock asks Lestrade.
“Yes, she is surgeon. But she has alibi. She and her friend were at dinner. She showed us bill.” Lestrade says.
“Can we see it? That bill.” I ask. Lestrade hands me the bill and Sherlock and I say together. “Her friend was on dinner with her husband.”
“How do you know?” uncle looks at us. Sherlock smirks “My turn.” I nod.
“It’s obvious. When two women go to dinner together they drink wine, don’t buy very expensive dish and they have a dessert. On this bill you can see one wine and expensive whiskey. There is one expensive dish and one expensive salad. With no desserts. As I said obvious” Sherlock says and smile.
Uncle is looking at us with open mouth and I smile at him “It was his wife. Easy. It took us … 3 minutes.” I hug him turn to door and yell “if you’ll need help again call me” Then I pull Sherlock out of building.
“Let’s go.” I say to him and wave to cab. I say cabbie my address and say “Prepare yourself, my brother is very annoying. And my parents, well.” He smiles “I have older brother who thinks that he is that awesome that he will be British government.”
“My brother is younger than me and he is…make opinion yourself. Get out, we are here” I say and get out of cab letting Sherlock pay.
I wait for him and then we together reach my house. I open door and in very same moment I see my brother running to me but he stops when he notices Sherlock in his dark coat and his cheekbones.
“Who are you? How old are you?” he asks Sherlock curiously.
“I am Sherlock and I am 17. Who are you?”
“My name is Oliver. I am 13 years old I am (y/n)’s brother. Why are you here?” he snaps and I sigh.
“That’s not your business. Is mum home?” I stop him and he nods. I tug Sherlock to our kitchen “Mum this is Sherlock, my friend. We have to do project together. We’ll be downstairs.” I say to her not waiting for answer and lead Sherlock downstairs. Oliver is following us.
“So you are (y/n)’s boyfriend? Have you shagged her already?” He asks Sherlock. I look at him angrily and Sherlock answers “No, I am her friend and as I can see, you are idiot. Don’t talk out loud you lower the IQ of whole street.” I giggle and unlock door to my favorite place in house. I am only one who have keys.
I quickly lock door behind us so no one can get in.” This is my room/laboratory. Feel free to move around. “I shout and sit on my favorite armchair.
My room is quite big, on right side I have bed, closet and door to bathroom. On left I have my laboratory: desk with chemicals and stuff, and fridge full of experiments. Opposite the door is big library, black couch and two armchairs.
Sherlock goes to laboratory side and opens fridge. “Why do you have thumbs in fridge?” he asks me, amused.
“Experiment.” I answer him and sit on chair next to the desk. “So what do you think of my little brother?” I ask him.
“He is….worse than mine. Lucky me.” He smiles.
I go to couch and lie down on it. “Bored.” I murmur. He sighs “Me too. Do you have Cluedo?” I look at him. “Nope. My brother stole it. I annoyed him because I don’t mind rules. I also had a gun but my parents took it away because I shot on wall. They said ‘You can harm yourself, guns are dangerous.’ Oh really? I thought that we use guns to scrabble our asses.” I say annoyed. “I have another ways to distract me but it’s illegal and I don’t have enough money.” I add. | 71315ed17379486a85651dd4316b0696 | ['a802cb1fc54646f39b17e05672b397dc'] | New girl
**Author's Note:**
> I am so sorry if anyone waited for an update! I forgot i wrote this but now i am back! It's just a short update but i will continue in this story. Sorry again and i hope you will enjoy it!
New girl pt.2
“What do you want do?” I ask him, hoping it will be fun. He winks “I need to annoy my brother Mycroft. I owe him destroyed experiments.’’
“Sounds interesting. How do you want to annoy him?” I ask him, curious.
“Maybe we could embarrass him in front of his college friends. I have some ideas….”he says mysteriously. “You said he wants to be government?” I ask him, smiling.
“Yep, have any ideas?”
“Maybe…” I smile mysteriously.
“Does it includes Photoshop and hacking?”
“Possibly…”
TIME SKIP
I am laughing out loud when I see the result. Sherlock and I edited Mycroft’s photo and it’s just awesome. We found photo of the Queen and put there Mycroft’s head and wrote under it ‘Future Government’ with pink color and above Mycroft’s head I put rainbow and unicorns. Result is just so fabulous and Mycroft looks sassy.
Now we are going to print it more than 100 times and put it all around Mycroft’s college. Sherlock is going to hack their internet page and put that picture there.
Our plan is this: around noon we’ll break out of our houses and then we’ll go to Mycroft’s college.
Sherlock’s POV
Finally I found someone who understands me. I don’t know how to feel about it but I am happy that we’ll going to prank Mycroft. He will kill me when he finds out but who cares?
Right now I am waiting in my room to my parents fall asleep. When it’s almost midnight I open my window and jump out to our garden. When I come to our meeting place I see (y/n) already waiting there.
She is wearing black jeans and black coat, her (h/c) in high pony tail. When she sees me she smiles happily at me and I can’t hold myself and smiles back.
“Do you have these copies?” I ask her. She nods and hands them to me. They look awesome.
“Let’s go.” She says and catches my hand. I freeze on place but then I realize that her touch feels so nice and I feel something like electricity between us.
I look up at her and see that she noticed it too. She blushes just and starts “Okay we should g-“but she doesn’t have time to finish because I kiss her. I don’t know how it happened but right now, I am kissing the most beautiful creature in the whole fucking universe.
After a while she kisses me back. I hug her around her waist and pull her closer to me. She hugs me around neck and kisses me more passionately which I happily return. She breaks a kiss after some time gasping.
Then she looks at me with strange look in her eyes “Why did you do that?” she asks me.
“Actually, I don’t have an idea. But you liked it. “I wink at her which makes her giggle.
“Yeah, you are probably right. It was your first time, wasn’t it?” I look at her, feeling myself blushing and nod.
She kisses me on lips “Don’t worry, you are good kisser.” Then she grabs my hand and tugs me to cab.
NORMAL POV
What the fuck have I done? I kissed Sherlock Holmes. Twice. Why. |
5504d023a63d4d889aaaf8c7c934e9c7 | ['a81216cd9ec2462abfb1a3bbaea668b8'] | Klyn watched the whole operation from his perch on the mountain, longbow in hand. The Swordsman was finally heading away from the guard, and Cynric was almost at the bottom of the cliff. Their timing couldn't have been more perfect. The rope went slack as Cynric jumped off.
It was a risky business, breaking into Mor Khazgur. Few dared to breach the home of the Orcs, and typically there wasn't much point to it, unless you wanted to steal crops or genuine Orcish weapons. But Cynric had heard tell through his infamous “network of friends” that the Orcs had gotten hold of something worthwhile, for once. And apparently it was his and the Swordsman's job to teach them to never do so again.
The night was dark, so Klyn could barely see Cynric and the Swordsman creeping back down the path towards the longhouse. But as long as the fully-illuminated guard didn't move from her post at the gate, the break-in would go as smoothly as a slaughterfish cutting through river water. And now all Klyn had to do was wait.
And wait some more.
He wouldn't have traded places with either of his partners for the world; keeping watch was what he was best at. Alone, silent, thinking, seeing. He enjoyed it. But gods, did it get boring.
He took another look at their progress. He could only see the Swordsman standing guard behind the longhouse; Cynric must have already picked his way inside the cellar. The shipment they were looking for was supposedly locked in some sort of cage, so he would have to break into there as well. Only then could they finally pack up their loot and get the hell out of here.
Then Klyn heard the howl.
It was close, close enough to raise the short blond hairs on the back of his neck. His eyes shot to the left—and there they were. Two white-and-gray ice wolves, prowling about, not forty feet away. And looking straight at him.
_Damn it, they must have smelled the horker meat,_ Klyn thought, readying his bow. _If they howl any more, it's sure to wake the Orcs._
He would have to deal with this, and quickly.
Klyn pulled an arrow from the quiver on his back and nocked it, pulling the string back until his right hand touched the side of his chin. He aimed directly between the eyes of the first ice wolf. The other would surely charge him, so he mentally prepared himself for what would be a bloody fight.
Then he loosed the bowstring.
The arrow hit the wolf spot-on, killing it instantly. Its companion took a moment to snarl, and then began its charge at Klyn. Which left him just enough time to nock another arrow and shoot. It hit the ice wolf in the shoulder, close enough to the neck that it would bleed out eventually, but for now it only served to further enrage the beast.
Hand-to-hand combat it was.
Klyn knocked the wolf's snapping jaws away with the back of his bow as he drew the steel dagger he kept on his belt. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. The wolf lunged at him again and he got in a good slice on its chest, pushing its teeth away from his face with his bow once more. The wolf cried in pain and jumped back, still growling.
He prayed to Akatosh that they weren't making enough noise to alert the guard below. Then he set another arrow and waited for the ice wolf to lunge. Lunge it did, going straight for his neck—a sure killing blow—and he shot the arrow straight into its heart.
The wolf fell at his feet, all bloody and, fortunately, quite dead. Klyn collapsed onto the bloodstained snow, breathing hard. On the bright side, he was no longer freezing cold.
He threw an exhausted glance back at Mor Khazgur. The guard had turned around, and was looking towards the mountain. Klyn ducked down just in case she'd taken some sort of potion to enhance her sight. He knew no guard who took their job that seriously, but you never knew with Orcs.
When he dared to peer over the edge of the cliff again, the Orc was slowly making her way down from her post to come investigate. And Cynric had just emerged from the cellar, the sack of stolen goods thrown over his shoulder. This was not good.
Klyn had no choice but to distract the guard. He licked his finger to test the wind—yes, it was just barely in his favor. He aimed an arrow away from the stronghold and into the sky, trying to find the right angle as quickly as he could . . . there. He released the string, and watched the arrow zoom away, hitting the current of wind overhead, just as he'd predicted. From there, it curved down, down, and began curving back in his direction—but far enough away that the Orc would surely notice it.
It stuck in the ground just behind the guard's feet. She jumped, and turned around with her sword drawn. If Klyn had shot it correctly, it was angled as if someone from outside the stronghold—in the opposite direction of the cliff—had just attacked.
The guard ran back to her post, searching the dark grounds outside the settlement for the offending archer, allowing Cynric and the Swordsman to make their way past the stronghold's torches unseen. They hurried up to the rope and began climbing back to Klyn. | d93f2524340b4e0ba012bfe09fbc4189 | ['a81216cd9ec2462abfb1a3bbaea668b8'] | They step inside to find themselves in a small waiting room. Elegantly decorated, furnished with modern, posh chairs, and stocked with standard magazines laid out on a table for waiting patients to read. There's no one in the room besides a receptionist, who looks extremely fit and very capable of punching someone through a wall.
_What kind of place is this?_ Steve wonders.
The receptionist looks up at Tony and raises an eyebrow. “Didn't expect to see you back here, Mr. Stark,” she says, beginning to type something on her keyboard.
“Just showing the patient in,” Tony says, gesturing towards Bucky.
Steve gives Bucky a little nudge forward. The Winter Soldier has grown more used to little touches like that, and now he doesn't flinch whenever Steve puts a hand on his shoulder or accidentally brushes past him or inadvertently bumps their thighs as they sit on the couch.
Bucky steps up and he looks surprisingly calm. His eyes, usually full of emotion (or pain, unfortunately), look dead today. That's how he hides his nervousness, by shutting down and becoming ice-cold. Hopefully the doctor will be able to fix that, through therapy or whatever treatments are standard for post-traumatic stress and induced retrograde amnesia.
“James Barnes?” the receptionist asks, her steel-gray eyes turning softer as she looks at the man before her. He looks cool and collected, but anyone who takes another look can see that he's a wreck on the inside.
Bucky swallows and nods stiffly, glancing over at Steve. Steve gives him the most encouraging smile he can muster.
The receptionist steps out from behind her desk and opens the door to a hallway inside. “I'll show you the way,” she says kindly, and leads Bucky out of the waiting room.
With relieved sigh, Steve sinks down into one of the comfortable-looking chairs. He rubs the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Bucky's going to be just fine here. Hopefully.
“You okay?” Tony asks, still standing.
“Yeah,” Steve breathes, and then looks up at Tony. “What kind of doctor's office is this, anyway?”
“Well, I don't like to brag,” Tony said with a mischievous glint in his eye, “but I own this practice. Stark Industries does, that is. Pepper thought it would be a good idea to have counselors and doctors for the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents we took in. I asked my favorite therapist to leave her practice and come here, and she did. And of course, a few ex-agents volunteered to protect this facility for a decent salary. The receptionist is one of them, obviously.”
Steve lets out a low whistle. “Wow,” he murmurs. “I never knew you were such a do-gooder.”
“Like I said, genius billionaire playboy philanthropist.”
Steve laughs, shaking his head. Tony Stark. Who would've thought he would be the one taking care of all the people that HYDRA hurt?
Maybe, somewhere deep inside of him, Tony knew. Knew that HYDRA was responsible for his parents' death. Or maybe he hadn't guessed at HYDRA specifically, but another organization. Maybe he'd realized that the car crash hadn't been an accident, that there were plenty of people around the world who had wanted Howard and Maria Stark dead.
Steve looks up at Tony and swallows. He doesn't look forward to the day when Bucky makes his apologies to Stark. But it will come, eventually. It has to. Tony deserves to know, especially considering all he's done for them.
“I've got some errands to run,” Tony says, and then clears his throat. “Like, nothing special, but if you want to come along . . .”
“Nah. I'll stay here, wait for Bucky.”
“It might be a long time. I mean, he's scheduled for a two-hour session, and knowing Dr. Yin, it could push to three,” Tony chuckles. “She told me – well, my secretary, actually – that she had a lot of tests to administer.”
“Tests?” Steve repeats, alarmed. “I thought we were taking Bucky to a therapist!”
“Not today. Sorry, I thought you – oh, well.” Stark runs a hand through his hair and blows out a sigh. “My therapist will be making house calls at the Tower for Bucky, but her schedule's pretty tight and my security team has reason to believe she's being followed because of my involvement in buying up S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.”
“And _you're_ not being followed?” Steve snorts.
“Trust me, we weren't. The amount of decoy cars driving around New York for us this afternoon is staggering.”
“I guess.”
“Anyway,” Tony continues, “I'm trying to arrange an appointment as soon as possible for dear Mr. Barnes. But Dr. Yin had an opening today, so here we are. She's a neurosurgeon, top of her class, and she's our best bet at finding out what HYDRA did to Bucky's brain. Hence, tests.”
Steve sighs. “Okay,” he grumbles. “But you should tell me these things beforehand.”
“My bad.” Tony checks his watch. “Sorry, bud, I've gotta run. You sure you want to wait up for him?”
Steve just nods. There isn't any other place he'd rather be right now. Sam and Maria are at the shooting range anyway, so there isn't anyone else on the 92nd floor of Stark Tower at the moment. And he'd rather be here just in case something goes wrong rather than puttering around "the Avengers' lounge," as Sam calls it.
Tony gives Steve a wink and then leaves the room. The receptionist comes back at that point, and gives Steve a fairly interested glance. Steve waits for her to say something, but she doesn't and just turns back to her work. Paid for discretion, most likely. She certainly has the air of a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and probably knows all about Captain America already. It isn't like he was ever a state secret. |
32b6e30cc0934ddebcb1b9d9eb9cab3b | ['a8232717252f467db001d76992386dd2'] | “Just don’t,” Eren hissed shakily.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Eren,” Nathan said softly. He shuffled over closer to Eren and placed his hand on his shoulder. He shook it off immediately.
"Just fuck off!" Eren spat venomously.
"Only if you tell me what's wrong," Nathan persisted firmly.
"Well right now it's you!" Eren retorted.
"This is about Alex isn't it?" Nathan sighed. A look of guilt and regret passed his face briefly which made Eren's stomach lurch.
"I said fuck off," Eren snapped.
"You were calling his name in your sleep,"
"Fuck off!"
"It's okay to be upset about it, Eren. It'd be more worrying if you weren't,"
"Just shut up!"
"I...I know I'm not the best person for you to talk to you about this right now, but I'm willing to listen."
"I'm going out."
Eren stripped his pajamas and yanked on the first clothes he saw. He probably looked ridiculous but he didn't care. Mismatched socks were the least of his worries.
"You're going out?! Where would you go?!" Nathan asked incredulously, "Eren, you're not thinking properly, come back to bed,"
Eren brushed off his words and reached for the door.
"Eren! Wait!" Nathan yelled, stumbling out of the bed. His hand grasped into a deathly grip on his shoulder, anchoring him to the ground, "You're not going out at 5 am. You might not care what happens to you, but Karin and I do!"
"Why? You let me do it every other night! You let me whore myself out to random strangers, but you're worried about me taking a walk?!" Eren exclaimed. Nathan paused for a moment, studying Eren's expression.
"You're not worth any less because of how many people you've slept with," Nathan breathed.
"I'm leaving," Eren hissed.
"No, you're not!" Nathan cried, "You do stupid things when you're mad, I'm not going to do nothing when you're willingly getting yourself hurt!"
"Because you've never done that before have you?" Eren snarled.
Nathan looked hurt. Really hurt.
"I would have helped sooner if I could have Eren, you know that," Nathan sobbed, tears prickling his eyes, "I know I should have, but I swear to God I didn't know what was going on Eren,"
"Bullshit!"
"I promise I didn't know, Eren!"
"Just leave it!"
And with that Eren sprinted out through the door with his feet clad in a pair of bunny slippers. Guess who they belonged to. They were hard to run in but Eren managed. Barely. He raced down the stairs, skipping the last three steps.
He needed space, but most importantly air. His mind was a mess of cluttered racing thoughts which made no sense. He could distantly hear Nathan calling after him but it was indistinguishable over the blood pounding in his ears.
Rain battered down onto his shaking frame as he ran outside, accompanied by the furious cry of thunder. His loose clothes were soaked in minutes. His limbs shook from the water's icy bite, but it was drowned out from his fiery fury.
_Alexander was here. How did he even find me? I never told anyone where I went! It couldn't be coincidence. What if he had planned this? He going to come back again. It's not like him to just give up. This is my fault._
_My fault_
_My fault_
_My fault_
It was hard to breathe again.
_If I had just never met him, never fallen in love with him, I wouldn't be here. I would be staying with my foster mother in a large, toasty house, probably working as a Doctor earning lots of money with a handsome successful lawyer, and we'd have beautiful adopted children. I'd be mentally-stable without trust issues and overwhelming guilt and difficulties sleeping and nightmares and I-I_
_I wouldn't be running away._
_
_Eren's heart rattled ferociously against his rib cage whilst his vision swam. The open space of the empty street closed in on Eren, squeezing him until the claustrophobia choked him. His stomach churned wildly like a rabid beast. Eren's hands twitched and shook violently as a flash of thunder crackled.
All my fault
My fault
My fault
His knuckles cracked against a too-close wall. The pinch of gravel biting into his hand was refreshing against the overwhelming fog that had clouded over his thoughts. Hot, scarlet blood leaked down his hand to his wrist, staining the unmarked, tan skin there.
It only got more difficult to breathe as the wall closed in tighter and tighter, squeezing harder and harder. It didn't hurt enough so he punched the wall again.
Again
And again.
The pain helped his brain focus through the thick sludge he was treading through. It felt agonizingly good. The stinging in his fist eased away the hysteria and Eren's mind came into focus again. He sat against the wall, not caring how filthy the floor was. Picking stones away from his wounds, he breathed deeply. Sticky sweat glued his mismatched clothes to his hot skin.
Eren was thankful for the rain. It washed away the filth coating his body like a tacky jacket. The sound of the drops splashing against the pavement was calming. Eren didn't even realize he was crying through the numbness that shook his body from the icy rain.
_Great, now you've made Nathan worry because you had a hissy fit. What would Mum think of you right now?_
But Eren couldn't always kid himself. He knew he Mum would only comfort him through his attacks. She would sing him lullabies as he fell asleep in her arms and wouldn't leave a moment before he woke up. The familiar pinching sensation in his chest returned thinking of her.
He didn't want to go back to the house in fear of upsetting Nathan even more. He didn't deserve this, no matter what mistakes he had committed in his early years. Once again he had hurt someone he loved without meaning to.
_My fault_
"Get up, it's filthy down there," A voice ordered. | 7c86935997614b9db30d0d15703dedb7 | ['a8232717252f467db001d76992386dd2'] | True to Eren's word, the house wasn't far away. Even if Eren had forgotten the way, Levi could recognize where they were after walking him home from what felt like years ago. It took several attempts for Eren to unlock the door, but when he finally managed it he quickly staggered towards the sofa to collapse on it. Levi wanted to tell him to brush his teeth first but he was out quicker than a light. Shaking his head, he tried his best to navigate his way to the kitchen in the dark to get a glass of water to fight off the hangover the next morning. Levi poured another glass for Eren and left it by the coffee table for him.
Eren's room was tidier than Levi had expected. Sure, there were ramen packets littered across the floor and he could use some organization skills for the random amplifiers and instruments scattered around. But whilst it was messy, from what he could tell, it was clean. A quick sniff of the sheets confirmed they were safe to sleep on. Stripping himself down to his boxers, Levi crawled into the surprisingly comfortable bed, cocooning himself into the toasty sheets.
\------
It was the sound of Eren moaning in agony that awoke him the next morning. From downstairs Levi could hear crashing in what he guessed was Eren's deseperate attempt to find painkillers. Levi shuffled downstairs to aid him, but not before making the bed and having to wear yesterdays clothes. Disgusting. He vowed to have a shower the moment he got home.
“Morning, sunshine,” Levi smirked to himself at Eren's groan as he opened the curtains.
“No,” Eren mumbled. “No light...Burns.”
“Did someone have too much to drink last night?” Levi teased.
“You're not normally so mean,” Eren grumbled. “Oh Jesus, my head.”
“I don't think he's going to do anything to help you now.”
Eren groaned in reply whilst chugging another glass of water.
“Can you order pizza, I'm going to shower,” Eren shoved his phone in Levi's hands.
“Are you actually serious?”
“Yes...why wouldn't I be?”
“Have your shower. I'll make us an actual breakfast.”
“Pizza is breakfast.”
“Don't even fight me on this. My life is never going to reach the low where I'm having pizza in the morning.”
“Whatever. Knock yourself out.”
Eren had no idea what was coming for him.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Thank you for reading!! The ereri should come next chapter but this fic ended up being longer than I thought it would so maybe not. But it will come, I promise
4. Chapter Four
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> This was supposed to be up earlier but if you follow my fics you know that whenever I say that it never happens. The second to last chapter (for real this time)
“I have to agree with Hanji on that one; it does sound very wife-like,” Erwin butted in with his irrelevant comment.
“No one asked,” Levi retorted as bitter as a wet cat into his cup of tea. This was a perfectly good blend of Earl Gray tea that his friends would not ruin for him.
“I apologize.” Levi highly doubted Erwin's sincirety. “I thought this was an open conversation. It hadn't occurred to me that you making Eren breakfast was such a private matter. Speaking of Eren, where is he? He hasn't been around recently.”
“He's seeing his sister in Japan. I think he's also seeing his other soulmate, Armin, whilst he's out there,” Levi answered with a wave of his hand. “Finally using that money we got from Cupid's Arrow. He won't be back for another two weeks.”
“Aw,” Hanji deflated like a popped balloon. “I like Eren. He's fun.”
“He's exhausting,” corrected Levi.
“Of course you would think that.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the chirruping of Levi's phone.
“Ooh! Who's that?!” Hanji leaped off the kitchen counter.
“No one,” Levi shoved their face away before fleeing towards the stairs to escape to his room.
“It's Eren, isn't it?” Hanji teased. They both knew it was true but Levi chose not to entertain them with an answer.
[From Eren 10:12]
can u stop singing turnin japanese plz its inappropiate
[From Levi 10:12]
As long as you stop with The Kill by 30STM
[From Eren 10:13]
never!!!
[From Levi 10:13]
Well I guess you'll have to put up with The Vapors then
[From Eren 10:14]
cant we reach a compromise
[From Levi 10:14]
That was the compromise
[From Eren 10:14]
you know thats not fair
[From Levi 10:15]
There's nothing unfair about it
[From Eren 10:15]
you cant stop me from singing my jams thats musical oppression
[From Levi 10:16]
That may be one of the dumbest things you've ever said and I don't mean that lightly
[From Eren 10:16]
youre so mean Levvy :'(
[From Levi 10:16]
This conversation is finished
[From Eren 10:16]
But Levvvvyyyyyy D'':
Eren never did get another reply. Or Turning Japanese to stop playing in his head. As revenge he made sure Levi was blessed with as much pop-punk as was humanly possible. By the end of the week even he was tired of Blink 182. And for Eren that was saying something.
Later that evening when Levi had stupidly let down his guard, he was finally catching up on RuPaul's Drag Race whilst texting. He was happily appreciating Bianca Del Rio slaying at life before he was viciously attacked.
“Is that Eren?” Hanji popped up seemingly out of nowhere, but on second reflection Levi guessed must have been Hell. The nine layer and all.
“No,” Levi lied yet again, shielding his phone. It was starting to become a habit.
“I call bullshit! Who else could it be?” Hanji invaded Levi's precious personal space by barging past his bubble on the couch. They were close enough that Levi could smell their breath. At least they had brushed their teeth, thank god. |
a2c6f5fa97294984ba5498a1a17b5c23 | ['a824e1313f2a463ab4c93285f43ccdeb'] | SuperSpanking 101
**Author's Note:**
* For LINK.
SMACK.
A gasp, soft and raspy. but no other noise is leaving his mouth as he revels in the pain...the pleasure.
"Come now Bruce, we're barely on 10. Don't tell me you're tapping out already?" Clark smirks as he rubs the red swelling glob that was his lovers ass. Soft smooth and perfect.
"10." Bruce stutters out, breathing heavy. He could feel himself hard as a rock. Covered in sweat and other sticky fluids that he couldn't even begin to recall. He smelt like sex. Sex and something more, and it was pushing him to his limits. 'I can only imagine what Clark is smelling...'
"There's a good princess." Clark leaves a trail of kisses down Bruce's spine in comfort. Kneading his shoulders to relax him. Loving him wholly, as he readies his hand for another. "Now remember, count after me. 1!" He shouts aiming his hand at his omegas left cheek.
"W-What!? Cl-Clark you said-" Bruce is cut off by another resounding smack to his bottom. Grunting but with pleasure and a sting.
"You forgot the rules. You stopped. The counter gets reset, you're rules if I remember correctly." Clark chuckles with a hum. Gazing down at his mate, he rubs at his thighs getting closer to his prize, and missing it all together.
"I-I know what I said..." Bruce couldn't handle it anymore. He needed to cum now. He needed his release now. He needed his alpha. "Forget it. Fill me, fill me now!" He moaned as he went to rub his cock against his bed sheets. He needed something. Anything.
Clark gave a small chuckle and squeezed tight on Bruce's cock while he fingered his hole. Working it wide and open. Not that it was much of an issue anymore, considering most days Bruce went around with his Superman butt plug inside him all day.
Be it a day at the office entertaining old alphas sniffing around at what was his, or a slow night on patrol when he felt like spicing it up. Clark gave Bruce a swift smack at the memory of fucking Bruce in a back alley of one of Gotham's more villain filled neighborhood. It left such a pressing memory, that the villains fortunate to spy them couldn't look bats in the eyes for the following two weeks.
"How about a deal princess?" Clark whispers into Bruce's ear and his hands move down to tease his nipples. "You go a good 10 hits and I'll knot you." he finished with a pinch and a tug to Bruce's nipples who gasped out a wanton moan of, "Yes, please~!".
SMACK. "One." a shiver runs down Bruce's spine.
SMACK. "Two." a low groan as Bruce holds the sheets tighter.
SMACK. "Three." Bruce whines as he gets pushed forward on the bed from the force.
SMACK. "F-Four." Bruce starts to get dizzy and he can feels his hole opening itself up.
SMACK. "Five." He gives a soft sniffle, but he feels to good to stop.
SMACK. "...six." He's leaking from his cock now, and its making him light-headed.
SMACK. "Seven." Clark is leaving him kisses again. It makes Bruce relax.
SMACK. "Eight!" He cries from his nipples rubbing into the sheets.
SMACK. "nine.." He overly warm. He knows with his white complexion that his skin is getting a bright ruby red in all the places that Clark loves to kiss.
Kiss. "C-Clar-!" Bruce's chokes on his own cry of pleasure from being entered so forcefully. He stretched open so wide. That's when he realizes it.
"I'm so down princess, sorry." Clark gasp as he milks himself inside of Bruce's hole. Filling him to the brim. Clark reaches down to Bruce's now drenched and soft cock. Milks every last drop out of him. "I'm glad I wasn't the only one that came to early." He whispers into the back of Bruce's neck and he feels his knot swelling inside of Bruce.
Bruce feels content and stated. He'll worry later about the possible outcome. there's a 50/50 chance that with Clark's alien sperm that he'll get pupped outside of his heat-cycle. He's just won't know until 3 weeks later. He turns his head slightly to give his alpha a kiss and a resounding "I love you".
**Author's Note:**
> just something i wrote for SuperBatHeadCannons.
> I seriously haven't written anything in like 5 years. | 9f2919606d1f44fe80afc583c4ce948c | ['a824e1313f2a463ab4c93285f43ccdeb'] | “Bonnie and I were married for about six months before she got pregnant. I was about six months away from completing my portal gun. As the months went on, we grew tense with each other. Once I finished my gun, Bonnie made me promise to put it away. That there was no place for something like this when raising a child. I said fuck that and started going out at night.” Rick at this point got off the couch and started pacing back and forth.
“Toss me your portal gun, so you’re less tempted to run, Rick.” Morty says, and without missing a step Rick does as told and begins a new.
“I kept going to new dimensions, met new people, started abusing drugs and alcohol. I started a band, called it The Flesh Curtains, because I’m a basic white boy.”
“Your last name is Sanchez.”
“Not the point here MoOOorty! Anyways, cut ahead to Beth’s, my daughter's, fifth birthday. At this point I’ve realized she's a little sociopath, but Bonnie can’t accept this fact. I’m suffocating at this point. I can’t be what she wants. I’m not a dad and I’m barely a good partner. I couldn’t play the suburban dad role, and live a life of nuclear family wholesomeness. I DON’T WANNA PLAY NICE WITH NEIGHBORS I’M NEVER GONNA SEE AGAIN MORTY!” Rick’s hand are in his hair and he’s pulling, Morty quickly threads his fingers into Rick’s and he stops. “It’s another night of arguing when I feel it, when Bonnie sees it. I’m not her soulmate anymore, I can’t be. Not when I have this new edition to my chest. By the end of the week she has divorce papers ready for me to sign. About a month later, I’m about a bottle of whiskey in and I get the smart idea to chemically rid myself of the soul mark.” Rick by the end of his monologue has also finished off the bottle of rum and turns to look at Morty who has a face of understanding.
“Rick, when is Beth’s birthday?” Morty asks suddenly causing Rick to almost trip on nothing.
“August 28, 1983” Rick deadpans.
“Oh! That's the same day my mom was born, but she was born in 1988. M-Maybe you didn’t have the second mark yet, b-because she didn’t exist yet?” Mortys hands are twitching, and Rick can see the A-typical Morty behavior showing through.
“Morty, there's something else i need to tell you.”
“Yeah Rick, what is- tell me.”
“Morty, I’m still technically your grandfather.”
5. Mystline
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Gonna be on a hiatus until about the beginning of December.
> I entered the RickMorty Secret Santa draw, so I wanna focus all of my attention on the fanfiction present that I'm going to work on.
Two weeks later after, what Morty was calling The Great Mistake, he was starting to question why he was calling it that anymore. Morty could still remember the big fall out Morty had with his so called ‘soulmate’, and wondering just how messed up Rick might actually be mentally. With a heavy sigh Morty leans his forehead into his hands.
“But I still love him so much”, With a quiet sob Morty gets up from behind the counter and walks to lock the front door.
Morty was so upset, he didn't even dress as nice as he normally did. He had on white low top converse, high waisted white acid wash jeans that had the cuffs rolled up, and a burgundy sweater that cut off mid stomach with open shoulders. He looked lack luster and he felt like it to. Wiping the tears off his face with a little hiccup.
He begins his regular lock up routine for the store, and his mind drifts back to his last conversation with Rick.
**_“Morty, I'm still technically your grandfather.”_ **
**_Morty didn't give Rick a chance to keep talking and started to stutter at him._ **
**_“W-w-what do you mean you're my grandfather!” confused, Morty grabs the bottle of rum and takes a heavy drag out of it. “Is this a, w-w-what is this? Is it a daddy kink thing?” setting the bottle down Morty runs his hands through his hair. “Well I guess a grand daddy kink, but that's not the point, I mean I can handle that kink. Do-do-do, did you want me to start calling you grand-"_ **
**_“SHUT UP YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT!” Rick turns to look Morty in the eyes. “Do you know how insane you sound? Call me what Morty, GRANDPA RICK!” in a fit of frustration he grabs the bottle and throws it at the opposing wall._ **
**_“Get out.” Mortys soft voice comes out over Ricks heavy breathing._ **
**_“What, no I'm not leaving we're not done here MoOOOorty. We'll never be done here, I'm your fucking soulmate.” Rick seems to look like he understands what's going to happen. Like he's pushing Morty from him. Making Morty want to leave him._ **
**_“Get the fuck out of my apartment Rick! Soulmate or not, I don't need your drunk ass in my home. And you want me to live with you!” Morty gives a small laugh that sounds more like a sob. “What if that bottle didn't hit the wall, huh Rick? What if it had been my face?”_ **
**_“You're my Morty!” Rick starts to move towards Morty. “I'll treat you however I damn well please!”_ **
**_“W-w-what? Rick, stay away!”_ **
**_“You don't fucking get it, do you? I'm your master, no, I'm your fucKING GOD!” Rick has a hold on Morty at this point and pulls him in close. “It's Rick and Morty for one million years and I'll fucking kill anyone who tries to get in my way!”_ **
**_With tears in Mortys eyes, he has no choice but to nod yes as the old man shakes him. Only suddenly Rick is passed out face first into the couch._ ** |
7d1777ed8c5641efa986e78df066d0a1 | ['a833826128394c29b1fb42b1ce0eda8e'] | “So what do you want? Want me to terrorize him to compliance?”
“No! Just come with me, you’re like the poster boy for a spy organization, broody and mysterious. You’ll be my mascot.”
“Fuck you, bring captain eyebrows if you want a poster boy.”
The agent made to walk away, but Hanji scrambled to block his way to stop him. Han was sure if hanen tried to touch him, they would be thrown to their back in a second.
“Awww c’mon! You’re better at recruiting! Rookies always look up to you. Always!” Hanji clasped hanen hand in supplication, “Plus this is Jaeger’s son, we owe it to him anyway.”
The agent huffed but relented. “Fine. On one condition. If I find him unsuitable, then we’ll just pick him up and let him go on his merry way.”
“Done!” Hanji stuck out hanen hand for a shake but the agent just glared at it, lifting a foot and nudging han out of his way.
“I’ll come up after my shower, don’t fucking wander off shitty glasses.”
Hanji gave him a sloppy salute and sauntered off. “Yes sir!”
\--
Han has changed to an appropriate, tailored dress for an Agent. Many forgets that hanen an active field Agent because han usually dresses in lab coats at HQ. Han wasn’t usually called in the field because han skill set is in demolition.
Hanji came up to the HQ garage wearing a green and tan chequered patterned pants and jacket with a light tan crocheted tie. Sharp dark amber eyes behind black framed HQ issued glasses, hair up in a neat but ordinary ponytail, a far cry from her usual bushy tailed ones.
“Huh, coming as Agent Tequila then?”
Black hair parted in the middle, silky looking locks kept checked in a crisp undercut. Decked out in a dark midnight blue long topcoat, high collar in matte black, a pale blue almost silver cravat just peaking out of his coat highlights the flat greyness of his eyes. Hanji thinks his eyes always spells danger.
“Must give a good impression right, Agent Absinthe?” Hanji tried to hold a serious expression but ultimately failed, mouth stretching into a mischievous grin. “And you dressed up Levi, Nice!”
“Tch. Get in loser. I’ll drive.”
Not denying hanen statement, the other agent reached to a pocket in his pants and pulled out a silver mirrored HQ issued glasses, it was usually made for interrogation missions but the black haired agent have liked it enough to use for everyday instead of the standard black frame clear lenses issue.
Jumping on the backseat of an immaculate black Tesla model S* Hanji bounced in han seat in excitement. While the silent Agent exasperatedly rolled his eyes as he gunned the car to exit the headquarters.
\--
While they were on the road to Trost Metropolitan Police, Hanji had already arranged and paid for the bail of Eren Jaeger so they could time it just right that he will be released as they get there.
“Would you fucking settle down you sack of over caffeinated potato!” The grumpy agent barked and Hanji tried to settle back down again.
“I’m just excited! I have a feeling he will be exceptional.”
“Tch, don’t get your hopes too high. I have a feeling he will be a little piece of shit.”
“Every one is a piece of shit in your eyes as long as they’re taller than you.”
The car suddenly swerved to the right, slamming the grinning agent to the backseat car door, han head bouncing back painfully against the window.
“FUUUCK!”
“What was that teq? I think you said something idiotic.”
“Fuck you sin!”
The evil midget, gave a smirk to the rear view mirror and flips Hanji off. Han doesn’t mind, being a friend of Agent Absinthe means a whole lot of abuse if his height were mentioned.
They were slowing down inside the city, and in no time at all reached Trost Metro. The car stopped just at the entrance of the station, and Hanji immediately looked around for the profile of han candidate.
Han Gasped Dramatically pointing out Eren “There sin!” Pointing at a brown haired youth, shaggy hair disarrayed, but the most noticeable feature was their bright turquoise eyes.
“Hohh, Not bad. Introduce yourself then.”
Opening the door and standing behind it, Eren Jaeger’s eyes immediately went to han, looking up and down sizing hanen.
The kid stared han down, liking their intensity Hanji grinned maniacally, as Agent Absinthe unobtrusively exits their vehicle too.
“Who are you?” _Mhmm nice voice timbre, deep but still boyish, useful in honeypots, expression too easily read though. Distrust and guarded._
“Well, I am the one who released you from jail, _Eren Jaeger_.”
“You? You work for Legion Enterprises?” The kid looked closely up and down again reassessing and looked at Levi too. A twist of anger marred the kid’s face before it was ushered back into a guarded look.
“Psh. Yeah, thanks for nothing, you’re ten years late.” and then the kid turned away ready to walk. Hanji opened her mouth to stop Eren but Levi was faster.
“Hey asshole, you could have at least thanked us. Where’s your goddamned manners huh?” Well, that could also work, Hanji thinks it’ll be more fun for han if Levi were to handle this. It seems the kid gets under his skin.
“Seeing as you didn’t even introduce yourself, who’s being a mannerless ass now?”
Levi strode up to the kid, and loomed over him. It’s his special skill that even though he’s shorter he can loom over anyone, that’s how intimidating he looks. And he haven’t even took off his glasses. The kid almost took a step back. Almost. Hanji internally giggled, this meeting was turning out to be a super good idea. _Kid has balls of steel to talk back like that, either very brave, very stupid or suicidal._ | 2e7dc14edf4940b2a3f7a139fa8ae904 | ['a833826128394c29b1fb42b1ce0eda8e'] | Knife in hand again, he threw the knife on thug number one’s chest, it smacked with dull thud on his chest, the flat of the knife hitting harmlessly on his chest. The thugs looked on to it with disbelief eyes tracking as the knife slid down to the floor.
But before anyone could huff a laugh, the distraction bought enough time for Levi to move in close on the group and give the first hit, kneeing thug number one on the kidney, thug one doubled over and Levi lost no time in slamming the thug’s head to his knee cap. The thugs then scattered for a mad scramble for any weapon, thug two picked up a chair and swung it on Levi’s back, but Levi just gave a death glare back, ripped the chair from the thug’s hands, pulled back his fist and swung, hitting the thug straight on the jaw knocking him out cold. Two down.
Eren was gaping looking back to Levi then to han. Both of them were ignored from the brawl happening in the bar. “S-should I? Y’know.. uh help? Does he need help?” Hanji chuckled and shook han head.
“Nah, Don’t worry about him, he needs the stress relief.”
A table crashed as Levi snarled and slammed someone on it and proceeded to kick the lights out of them.
“He’s not a scientist, is he?”
“Nope!” Hanji happily replied.
Something like a war cry came out from the last thug standing, trying to topple Levi off his feet, but he grappled them expertly and turned the grab into a choke hold.
“Oh, uh boyfriend then?”
“Him? HAHAHAHA NO! Sorry, but my taste don’t run on short, dark and grumpy. I’m more on short, ginger and girly.”
Eren snorted a laugh, and Hanji was happy for it as hanen has managed to normalize a situation _where her colleague was beating the shit out of thugs._
With a last clang and thud, Levi lets go of his last victim after braining them on the aluminum rung pipe running along the bar. The bar man that was shakily holding a phone receiver about to dial, was glared at by the Levi and subsequently knocked out by a small dart that fired from his innocently looking watch.
Levi breathe out and spat “Fucking piss shitbags” He was still in a mood when he glared back at the kid. Eren knowing he’s out of his depth put up his hands in surrender.
“Yeah, I don’t have an ordinary office job. I’m a spy, assassin call it whatever you like. Me, that four eyed freak there and your late father. We work for Statesman, an independent, international intelligence agency that focuses on taking down terrorist cells and corrupt individuals.”
His eyes narrowed on Eren, “And now that you know that, I can’t let you leave to blab that to anyone.” pointing the innocuous watch at the kid. Hanji thinks it’s time to intervene.
Slapping both her hands on the kid’s shoulder han gave a yell, “WELL! I’m sure Eren won’t be a snitch like that, right? I bet he’ll keep our secret for us while he thinks about our _proposition_.” Han squeezed his shoulders before letting the him go. The kid nodding violently all the while.
“I swear! I won’t say anything to anyone! I swear!”
Levi sighed and lowered his wrist. “This is a shit show Hanji.”
“You needed to let off steam, don’t worry! These are drug dealers anyway. Right Eren?”
The kid blinked and for the first time his expression shuttered blank. _OHO!! He can hide expressions!_
“I don’t know.”
Hanji mentally squealed again, _Not a snitch! Oh my god such a treasure!_ If the kid was not a snitch to someone he has absolutely no connection to, what could his loyalty be to someone he’s dedicated to? This kid is seriously a diamond in the rough. Han peeked at Levi’s expression and he was staring consideringly at the kid too. He definitely caught up to han thoughts too!
Levi hummed, “Get home kid, we’ll clean up here.”
The boy nodded, eyes already churning with heavy thoughts as he made his way outside of the bar.
Hanji stretched and gave an exaggerated groan. “Well let’s go, time to monitor the kid!”
Levi snorted, “You had tagged him already?”
“Yup! GPS and a mic too! Our gadgets are awesome!”
Levi looked around uninterestedly around the bar, and pulled up his phone to text for a clean up.
“So, he has potential right?”
“Eh, he’s not that shitty, has big problem on authority though. And a pretty deep chip on his shoulder.”
“High praise from you Levi! But I know, he sounds volatile right? With the right training though, he’ll be a deadly operative.”
Levi hmmed again, and Hanji has an idea what’s on his mind.
“Want to train him?” Hanji asked wiggling han brows up and down.
“That brat? No way. I have to train my own candidate you moron.”
“Does Mikasa need anymore training though?”
No answer from han grumpy friend, and it could mean alot of things. It could mean he’s bored of the topic, it could mean he doesn’t want to do it, or it could mean that he _wants_ to.
Hanji wiggled han eyebrows again while cackling to irritate han friend.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> *covers face in shame*
> I made the action scene hilarious. I’m so sorry heichou please don’t feed me to the titans!!
> [the thugs saying huh all the time reminds me of 51,52 and 53 in eyeshield kekekeke]
>
> also im more comfortable using han and hanen for hanji than zhe or something idk, only on hanji's pov though, and maybe on levi's.
> hän
> (personal) he, she, one or singular they (only of a human being; the pronoun does not determine the sex/gender of the person)
>
> Thank you for reading!
2. Chapter 2 |
6e8675ce05f34e83b7a0cd9627a81faa | ['a84035f0cb8f4607be947d18f81b1c84'] | The hunter didn't hear Cas approaching the door. He was too lost in his thoughts again so he was rather startled when he heard the gravely voice.
Dean pushed himself up on his elbows and stretched himself.
"Yeah. Yeah, I mean, sure, come in."
Cas stepped into Dean's room. It was orderly and really made someone feel like home. He smiled a little at the comparison to Sam's room who still, after all this time, kept it rather empty.
"You can sit down, you know? So, what is it?"
Dean's eyes followed every movement of the other man.
"Are you still upset about what we've talked about a few days ago? How you were not able to make out my real voice?"
Dean once again dropped his gaze to his hands and then down to the floor.
"Dammit, Cas I told you. And I told Sammy. Nothing's wrong, I'm fine !" Dean tried to sound convincingly angry but the angel of course knew that this was wrong. Instead of saying anything though he just looked at the hunter.
Oh, how Dean hated that. Cas' eyes piercing right into his soul. It made him break almost instantly any time.
"It's just -" he paused.
"Dean. You can tell me. I won't be mad or anything."
"I know. I know." Dean gave him a half-hearted smile.
"It's just--Cas, don't you think I should be able to understand your voice by now?" He looked up at the angel almost hopefully.
Cas frowned slightly at that question.
"You've said it yourself ! Humans are capable of learning it if they spend enough time with an angel." Dean continued.
"Well, yes, if they formed an intense bond, it is indeed possible for them to hear the voice of that certain angel. But--"
"So, it's possible?"
"Yes, Dean but--"
"No, I wanna try it. Let me hear your voice."
"I am not sure you will be as excited as you are now after my voice destroyed all of your belongings, Dean."
He looked at him with sincerity.
"Then take us out on a field, or god knows where, miles away from any house that can explode. C'mon buddy." Dean was almost begging now.
"It's not just the voice Dean. An angel only ever sings about a story. A story which we don't choose ourselves, it's more like it is carved into our grace. It might as well be our grace, you understand? If you actually developed an understanding of the angelic sound, I'm not sure you would want to hear the story."
Dean was confused and sat up a little more to make out Castiel's facial expression.
"But didn't you, like, 'sing' to me 6 years ago? I don’t see why it’s suddenly a problem?"
"Angels change Dean, and so do their stories. I don't have the same story I used to have. Back then I sang about how only the righteous man would be able to stop the apocalypse.
It was a song about a mission for you. It’s just - everything is different now. Also my voice might not even be close to the beauty of other’s since I have been resurrected way too often.”
“I bet my life that it is more beautiful than Metadouche’s.”
That actually made Castiel smile. And it was a mesmerizing smile. Full teeth and little crinkles around his eyes which were practically glowing.
_He’s beautiful_. Dean thought and he couldn’t help but feel proud of himself for being able to induce that reaction from the angel.
He wasn’t prepared for the sudden change in location though. He’d just been in his comfortable bed trying to convince Cas to let him hear is true voice and the next moment he’s standing in a forest.
He hadn’t even registered Cas touching his forehead so he was quite irritated for a second.
“Dude! Maybe warn me next time?” Dean’s head was spinning but he was instantly steadied by Cas, who just gave him an apologetic look.
“There aren’t any humans near this place, you know? If anyone were to hear me they would only make out a far away whistling.”
_But the animals--_
“The animals are able to detect angel’s voices. They won’t mind. Don’t worry.” Cas removed the supporting hand from the hunter’s shoulder. He still looked quite insecure and concerned.
“I will let you hear my song. It will be in Enochian so you might not be able to understand it word by word but you will rather feel the words. You will comprehend everything I sing, but you would not be able to repeat it.”
He paused to make sure the man understood what he was saying. When Dean nodded he continued.
“If this does not work, I want you to interrupt me immediately. Just say stop and I will stop. I don’t want to hurt you, Dean. And you have to promise me not to be angry with me afterwards. If you want me to leave then, I will leave. Just don’t be mad.”
The last part confused Dean a lot.
Why should I be mad? What is he worrying about?
He almost wanted to object again, but when he saw the worry and despair in Castiel’s eyes he held himself back.
“Sure, Cas.” Dean smiled at the angel to give him some kind of assurance.
And then Cas closed his eyes and started to sing. | f2e60e10a64e4cc6b07268be869e5e1b | ['a84035f0cb8f4607be947d18f81b1c84'] |
Voice Of An Angel
An angel’s voice truly is something magnificent.
Humans would just hear a loud screeching, a noise almost unbearable for their ears.
But in reality it is more beautiful than anything you have ever heard.
Only few were able to enjoy the sound of an angel talking – no, not talking – singing, really.
Castiel hoped that Dean Winchester, the man he saved from hell, was one of those special people. After all, he was ordered to rescue him. And Dean’s soul was the purest thing Castiel has ever seen.
The more disappointed he was when he realized the man couldn’t understand him when he told him his mission to stop the apocalypse. Maybe he isn’t so special, the angel thought at that time.
Years later, Dean is walking through the bunker on his way to the kitchen to get some coffee, when he hears an unexpected sound. He stops for a minute to listen, to figure out if there’s any danger waiting. Instead it becomes clear that somebody is humming “Stairway to Heaven”.
Dean, of course, recognizes that song immediately.
A pleasant smell emerges from the kitchen, a mixture of pancakes and bacon
(yes, you can indeed have both for breakfast).
The older Winchester is now leaning against the doorway and can’t help but smile when he sees Castiel pretty much dancing his way through the kitchen.
Cas learned to cook and bake a while ago, and since then he insisted on doing at least one meal every weekend.
Which neither of the brothers understood but it made the angel happy so they didn’t question it, besides, Cas’ pancakes are freaking delicious!
Another habit he has developed was the humming. He never sang like Dean did, he always kept it quiet, but did it constantly, with or without music, it didn’t matter.
Also, how ironic was it for an angel to sing "Stairway to heaven". However, Dean was proud of Cas for picking up his music taste.
_Led Zeppelin_ , Dean smiled to himself. _How could anyone not love him?_
“Dean, you’re staring. It’s creepy. You said that yourself, remember?”
Dean was jolted out of his thoughts and was greeted with those incredible blue eyes.
“Open your mouth.” Cas told Dean and he obliged which rewarded him with some fresh bacon. Dean let out a satisfied moan.
“It's good then?” Castiel beamed at Dean with so much pride that the Winchester just wanted to grab his face and give him a kiss, partly to let him taste just how good this bacon actually was. But he held himself back and instead just smiled and nodded.
“It’s very good, Cas.”
He has become so much more human, there were times when the typical angelic confusion came up, but it was hard to really see Cas as celestial being anymore.
Cas, his eyes still glowing of happiness, turned around again to finish the pancakes and started humming again.
“I never heard you sing, you know?"
Cas huffed both in surprise and amusement.
“Well, technically you have heard me sing. Your soul just couldn’t translate it, so it was rather unpleasant for you. And for the windows, to speak of.”
Dean wanted to interpose but the angel didn’t let him
“I know you mean the voice of my vessel in this case. I don’t know, I guess I just don’t find it as soothing as yours, so I see no reason to.”
He raised his head to smile at Dean for a second before handing him the bacon and pancakes to put them on the table.
Sammy went to town early to have breakfast with some girl he met at a diner a while ago when they came back from a hunt, so it was just Cas and Dean for today.
They sat in silence for a while when Dean put down his fork and looked at the man sitting opposite of him.
“Cas?”
“Yes, Dean?” Cas licked some maple syrup of his fingers before paying full attention to Dean.
“Why wasn’t I able to hear your true voice back then at the filling station? I mean, you pretty much shattered my ears back then. Why was that?"
It was true. The sound was so high-pitched that Dean still couldn’t believe anyone would be able to handle it. It was painful and pretty dangerous with all the broken glass. He honestly thought he was being attacked at that time.
"Dean, I told you, there's a limited number of humans who are granted with the gift of understanding an angel's song. Though, some are able to develop that quality if they spend enough time with an angel." Cas continued eating his pancake (he didn't need to eat of course but he's grown used to it).
"Of course there has to be a very deep bond between them. Otherwise they couldn't connect."
Dean lowered his eyes and looked into his hands.
He felt Cas squinting at him in confusion of his reaction.
"Dean. Does it upset you ?" He sounded gentle and almost worried.
"Naah. It's nothing, Cas. I was just wondering", Dean stood up and emptied the table in a haste and then went to watch TV.
Cas didn't question him for the rest of the week but Dean has become more quiet and thoughtful.
Sam of course noticed that his brother was behaving weird but he couldn't figure out what it was by himself and Dean as always said everything was just fine.
"Cas, man, listen. I don't know what it is that makes my brother think so much but I doubt it's healthy. I've tried to get through to him but he wouldn't let me. Maybe if you just - "
Sam looked at Cas pleadingly. He knew it was nothing dangerous but it still worried him when his older brother closed himself in.
"I will go talk to him." Cas affirmed.
Sam only smiled at him gratefully.
"Dean? May I come in?" |
8f3e8069cdfa443cb7b533bfe78e2367 | ['a847421d3c824d1abbe60e3ba30fd793'] | They move to the front of the line then. Kuroo orders something, and Hinata orders tea–he knows from experience that coffee is usually a very bad idea–and pays. They move over to wait for their drinks to be made. Hinata spaces out as he waits, the bad night’s sleep catching up to him. He’s brought back to the Starbucks by the distinctive shutter noise of a phone camera.
“What the–?”
“Oh, not bad.”
Kuroo holds up his phone to show Hinata the picture. For a candid shot, it’s not terrible. The bright morning light kind of illuminates his face along with his hair, and he doesn’t look as spaced out and not-thinking as he was.
“I wanted a picture for your contact,” Kuroo explains.
“Lemme get one, too.” Hinata pulls out his phone from his pocket.
Any excuse to get a picture of someone who looks like Kuroo is welcome. He won’t even question why Kuroo wanted one of him. Hinata holds his phone up with both hands to steady it. Kuroo pulls up one side of his mouth in a kind of half-smile. The phone clicks.
“Wow, not fair, you had time to prepare,” Hinata complains, glancing at the photo.
He quickly saves it, and sets his number to “Tetsu-kun” while he’s at it.
“I’ll take another if you want,” Kuroo says.
Hinata nods, and Kuroo holds up his phone. Even though it’s early in the morning, Hinata pulls out his best smile and tilts his head. He holds it until he hears the camera and then relaxes.
“Talk about not fair,” Kuroo mutters.
When Hinata asks him to explain himself, he doesn’t get an answer. As it happens, their drinks are the next ones up. Kuroo picks up his coffee and weighs it in his hand.
“I should head out. I can listen to your love life problems later–I’m pretty good with that stuff.”
“Really?”
It’s a perfect chance to see each other again. Though, he might have different love life problems. Hinata decides he’ll deal with that later.
“Yeah, that would be good. Good luck with your presentation, Tetsu-kun!”
Kuroo leaves with a “see you later, Shouyou” and a wink.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> How does one Kuroo? This is probably OOC orz Also, Hinata is totally the type to use weird ways of swearing. Trust me. And I'm sorry, Kageyama, I needed someone for drama. | 680f0f333a0c43ed9c21f10867ae6c1b | ['a847421d3c824d1abbe60e3ba30fd793'] | “Yeah, yeah, alright.” Rin sounds reluctant, and Sousuke sighs. Why is his best friend such a pain some of the time?
“He’s not here anyways,” Sousuke adds.
“What? Wait, what do you mean ‘not here’? Holy shit, did you kidnap him?”
“No? What the fuck, Rin–I don’t kidnap people. Didn’t Makoto tell you what happened?”
Sousuke sits down heavily. He can’t deal with Rin and expect to stay standing for too long. While Rin’s energy sometimes fills him with excitement, it wears him down other times, and this feels like one of these times.
“Makoto just said you helped Haru out, because he was feeling shitty–Makoto didn’t say that part. He thought it might’ve had something to do with something I said…wasn’t sure, though.”
“Well, fuck,” Sousuke mumbles.
If Makoto didn’t tell Rin where Haru slept the night before, Sousuke is sure he doesn’t want to. There’s no other way to explain it though.
“So Haru was at your apartment, huh?” Sousuke can practically hear Rin wriggling his eyebrows at him.
“He was upset, and I let him in. That’s all.”
“Sure, _ sure. _ ”
“Go fuck yourself, Rin.”
“Nah, I have someone to do that for me.”
Sousuke nearly drops the phone. He really should know Rin by now. Rin is passionate and falls in and out of love. He runs on the high of being at a competition and finds someone else to share that feeling with. It’s probably someone new that Rin met while in France, and Sousuke will probably hear enough about it soon.
“I was going to tell you later.” Rin hardly sounds apologetic. “But, I couldn’t resist. You’re coming to lunch with Makoto and me next Saturday.”
“Do I get a say in this?”
“No. You’d come if we invited you anyway, no biggie. I’ll text you the time and place, and don’t get lost.”
“Shut up!”
Rin laughs harder than he should, given how often he teases Sousuke about this; apparently, some things never get old.
“See you in a week, you ass.”
Sousuke hangs up before Rin has a chance to reply.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Whew, that was tough to write. The next hurdle is coming, but there should be a few chapters to regroup…Also, I'm not as good at writing Rin, so he may be a bit OOC. I'll try T_T
>
> Thanks for reading!
9. Chapter 9
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Haru deals. The two pairs of best friends meet up for the first time in a long time.
When Haru gets home, he has a missed call from Makoto. It’s been awhile since they talked, and he’s not particularly in the mood for a phone conversation. He picks up when Makoto calls again, though. If he didn’t, he’d have to deal with questions about why he didn’t, so it’s easier just to talk to his friend. He ends up giving Makoto a summarized version of the previous day’s events, and tries to leave Sousuke’s name out of it as much as possible. When he does talk about Sousuke, there’s a moment when he stumbles over his given name before returning to “Yamazaki.” He knows Makoto notices, but his best friend doesn’t say a thing.
Haru also mentions Rin’s teasing them about being an item, and he can’t help the waver in his voice. Makoto is a little quieter after that. After all, Makoto is the only person he’s really talked about relationships with. Comfort and quiet are things Haru seeks, while he also prefers to be alone and untouched. At first, Makoto said he’d meet the right person, but they both eventually came to realize that Haru’s crushes were different than Makoto’s or Rin’s. Haru might want to be emotionally close to someone, or be pleased an aesthetic sense, but he never wanted them physically.
Makoto assures Haru he’ll tell Rin to lay off it and ends the call, with a “call if you need anything, I’ll check in later.” Haru sets the phone down quickly, thankful for the solitude. Even though he fell asleep on Sousuke’s couch, he’s still tired. His brain is still attempting to swamp him with fears and worries and doubts and what-ifs that he doesn’t want to deal with. Haru settles into bed a few minutes later. He huddles under the covers and pulls up the collar of his shirt so that it covers half his face to block out the cold air of his apartment. He falls asleep within a couple minutes. The long sleeves of the borrowed shirt cover his hands, and he feels warm.
Haru wakes a few hours later surrounded by unfamiliar comfort. It takes him a while to realize why. Sousuke’s clothes are somehow more comfortable than his own even if they are a few, or several, sizes too large. The fabric is worn, but still soft, and has a comforting scent. His hands tremble as he wraps himself more tightly in Sousuke’s too-large clothes, not sparing a thought as to why. Haru drifts to sleep again, he’s more at peace than he has been in a while. He’s both tired and refreshed from releasing a ton of emotion the day before, and he can’t be bothered with thinking about any new complexities that may have arisen.
When Haru makes his way out to the kitchen, sweatpants rolled up to his knees and a blanket around his shoulder, it’s half-past three in the afternoon. He rubs the sleep from his eyes, feeling more rested than he has for a while.
Makoto calls again, when Haru’s eating a small meal that he put together. His phone is plugged in and sitting on the counter. Haru sighs quietly at hearing Makoto’s distinct ringtone, and walks over to answer it.
“Hey, Haru, I forgot something earlier.”
Haru doesn’t respond, but waits for makoto to continue. |
919728732f684b20a388bd206aa5b095 | ['a8563576de1a4b74813f7a98e9b8bd1f'] | > I think about the relationships between these five like the ones I had my first years in college, where just spending every single day in such close proximity to everyone , who were all going through the same stresses, made the friendships really solid and really emotionally attached in a very short time. We used to call it 'college time', saying every semester was more like a year for how much like a warped family we felt. The Homicides are all that age and have spent every day for years with each other, so I find their intense attachments to each other a totally acceptable extension of their situation.
>
> Which is how you'll have to look at pretty much everything they do from this point on.
24. Self-Guided Downward Spiral
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Johnny gets many things he wants but not the way he wants them. Blogs, planes, exotic alien locations.
Three hours into the trip to nowhere, they sat in a parking lot with the van doors open eating stolen convenience store food. Jimmy was in the middle of a story from his 'piercing guy', who everyone had silently agreed to say nothing about. For whatever reason, this thrilling tale required a visual aid, and Jimmy had the others clustered around him while he took a pen to a page ripped from the back of one of Johnny's notebooks.
“So, then there's this chicken, and it’s like…”
Johnny squinted at the drawing. “Are you – that's a _chicken_?”
Jimmy pulled the paper away defensively. “Hey, I’m not like you and Devi, okay?”
“It's got one leg.”
“Fuck you, here.” Jimmy added a triangular shape extending from the underside of the already boomerang-shaped bird.
Tenna leaned over his shoulder and ogled the drawing. “Dude, your chicken’s got a kickstand.”
“It’s a leg!”
“That is a fucking kickstand,” Devi told him.
“Hey, are we above stealing from children?” Johnny asked suddenly. “I want to learn to ride a bike.”
Tenna raised an eyebrow. “How many years have you been living with Edgar and that basement never once gave you a bike?”
“I just thought of it now.”
“We're not above stealing from children,” Jimmy said as he tried to fix his chicken. “But if I post about wanting bikes on the blog, I bet we won't even have to steal them.”
Johnny laughed and casually leaned back against Edgar, who accommodated the weight and shape of Johnny without a second thought. “You should do that, then. I want to see how far they'll go. Someday, those people are going to get us on a plane.”
The minor masses had missed them. When Jimmy announced they were heading back out into the world, in return he received a flood of messages and requests for specific locations for the Homicides to play. Requests for contact and other strange messages immediately began reappearing on the blog itself. It was easier to pretend they were part of the band's aesthetic than address them in any way, so Jimmy let them stay.
He also received a 'Please contact me' for every other message. They alternated in the mail box perfectly. Edgar thought this was good evidence for Dib's theory that the blog was just generating junk between the regular posts, and Jimmy, lately a sucker for anything that sounded like scientific evidence, accepted it.
And he would have stayed accepting if not for everything else.
The road they wanted to take to the next shady place Tenna had arranged for them to play was full of official people in hazmat suits and riot gear. When the van drew close, a figure in a face-obscuring mask flagged Tenna down and she rolled down her window.
“Sorry, you'll have to go around,” the masked man said.
“What's going on?”
“Just a minor situation with the undead. We've got it contained.”
“Oh. Okay then.” She rolled the window most of the way up. “Good luck with that.”
Edgar watched the flock of people waving shields and poles at each other as Tenna turned the van around. “I always thought the undead would be a bigger issue,” he said.
Johnny looked up from his notebook. “Right? They made it seem like it would be this global disaster and usually it's just kind of mildly inconvenient. Like having a cold. Or construction. It sucks, but it is literally not the end of the world.”
Devi tilted her head and stared into the distance. “Huh.”
“What's up?” Tenna asked as she led them down a bumpy country side road.
“I thought for a second that I had a story about a zombie.”
Jimmy didn't even look up from his tablet where he was recalculating their route. “Not anymore?”
“It's the fucking weirdest thing. I feel like if I'd just started talking instead of asking myself what the hell I was going to say, I would have said something important.”
“Let this be a lesson to you,” Johnny laughed. “Stop thinking before you talk.”
She smiled. “I'm already pretty good at that.”
The road grew less and less like a road and more just like a space where a vehicle could theoretically fit. Tenna repeated “Jimmy, are you _sure_?” every few minutes as they rumbled through dirt and thick tall grasses.
“This is the road! I don't know what else to tell you. Here!” Jimmy thrust the tablet up at Devi. “Look at it.”
Devi turned the tablet around in her hands a few times. “It looks like the right road, Ten.”
“Tell this Dib dude he needs to update his map thingy, then. This shit was maybe a road when people were using chariots, but it isn't one now.”
Just as Tenna was about to say that they had to turn around, the thick brush suddenly cleared. She hit the breaks and they stared out into a field where tall grass had been hacked down in a path.
“Okay, what the fuck.” | f6a9d42130b14cb399630439f93aec27 | ['a8563576de1a4b74813f7a98e9b8bd1f'] | _This will give you what you deserve. Since Edgar and I losing each other is so amusing to you, I thought you'd like to give the feeling a try first hand._
“I can destroy you,” Pepito threatened.
_Can you now?_
Todd winced and tried to speak, but the knife wouldn't allow him even that much motion.
_It seems I'm the one with the key, Pepito. You know, the key you decided you couldn't handle anymore. I used it to do this, to come here. I don't believe you can do anything to me._
Johnny gripped the knife tighter, pushed slightly against Todd's skin and saw the slightest welling of blood. He turned to look at Pepito and pointed at him with his free hand. Like a performance, like delivering a song.
_You sent me here. You did this to me. You decided you couldn't handle a single piece of metal and didn't want to take over Daddy Satan's business. You thought this was a convenient way to take advantage of a situation you knew would ruin someone. And you wouldn't tell me a damn thing when I asked you._
“I've told you: I couldn't, I – ”
_I don't care!_
Under the knife, he felt Todd shaking.
_You pretended to give a damn, Pepito. You tried to warn me and Edgar and pretend you were worried about us, but in the end, you didn't care. You were still going to get what you wanted. You wanted to stay home with Squee and play games and eat cookies._
He looked at Todd again.
_I think I can understand that part._
Pepito took a step forward.
_I also would have liked to stay home and enjoy someone's company with TV and shitty food, but I'm not ruining anyone's life over it! Oh wait!_ Johnny put his hand over his mouth in mock shock, looking back and forth between Pepito and Todd. _I guess I am._
“Stop,” Pepito said. “Just wait, let me – ”
_No. I really don't care. What difference does it make to me if this upsets you now that I know what I can do?_
“You can go!”
His resolve seized up in his chest as he tried not to lose the momentum he'd been building. _Put everything back,_ Johnny demanded. _I want it back the way it was before._
“Let Todd go, and you have it.”
_Swear it, or his neck stains your wallpaper and I make your undoubtedly long life very difficult._
Pepito spoke words Johnny didn't understand and there was something of a roar from under the floor. “It is Done,” he said. “Now let him down.”
_See, you could have just helped me from the start._
“I haven't helped anyone. Let him go.”
_I'm supposed to believe you just like that?_
“ _Feel it_!” Pepito hissed. “You have a heart beat again. It will be slow, but it will all come back by morning.”
There _was_ a heart beat. In his awe, Johnny dropped the knife from Todd's neck and Todd's crumpled down into the cushions, hands covering the cut on his neck.
“Now get out,” Pepito said. He flickered out and reappeared immediately front of Todd.
Johnny wrapped his fingers around the key at his neck and, rather than condemn someone, freed himself. The cord snapped when he pulled, like he believed it would, and he dropped it like garbage to the floor at Pepito's feet. “Gladly.”
“You should choose your words more carefully in the future,” Pepito said sweetly as Johnny ran to the front door of the house. “But do enjoy how things were 'before.'”
The second Johnny turned back to question it, the house vanished under his feet, and he was standing over the hole he'd seen Edgar contemplate all that time as though it were covered with a thick pane of glass.
_So maybe he never would have been able to throw himself down anyway._
The ground felt real, the air felt real. When he ran he nearly floated. The sensation he'd known for so long of the metal key hitting his neck was missing, and frankly the skin there felt a little naked. He passed Jimmy's trailer, and Tenna and Devi's house. Lights on. Hopefully still early enough that they would welcome him being back.
Though his priority was still further up the street.
There were no lights on in Edgar's house. Johnny got in through the back door attached to the kitchen where he and Edgar had once broken the lock trying to do some ridiculous experiment. There were dishes piled high in the sink, pots and pans in strange places. He knew it would look like this. He'd seen Edgar through that wall, after all, but it was a little different seeing it in real life.
Or real, at least. He wasn't exactly sure about 'life.'
He was home and Edgar was upstairs and rather than run there immediately, he went to the living room. This was either delaying something great or something traumatic, but he wasn't sure he was ready for either. Two minutes ago, he would have thought nothing could have distracted him and now he paused, just a little.
There were CDs scattered on the floor in the other rooms. Photos, papers, and magazines sat in piles on every flat surface. There were letters from people they didn't know expressing some sort of warped sympathy, and still others celebrating that Edgar had vanished from the public eye with Johnny to go and be secretly married.
The television was on. They were showing the Mysterious Mysteries special again. This was a good sign. Edgar and the others wouldn't have moved on completely if even TV hadn't totally forgotten him. Unless this was a late run from some network too slow to get on popular concepts and issues when they're relevant and Johnny's death was just embarrassingly old news now. |
8db32a5b52e8422a87f19c6f434d4f69 | ['a8683234c532448da5d5c13c40deae5f'] | He pushes send and draws a deep shaky breath. He looks around, most are sleeping. Someone’s watching a movie. No one seems to care about him and what he’s up to. He touches the growing bulge and he can feel it twitching under the thick denim fabric.
The phone vibrates and he bites his lips as he reads Louis answer.
From LT: Aww Harreeeeh, that sound wonderful. I’m yours. You know that! Can I touch you? Can l let my fingers slip under your sweater? Can I graze your soft skin and listen to you catch your breath?
He can almost feel Louis light fingertips against him, carefully lifting every tiny little hair on his body. Just the thought of how they would gently follow the lines of his abs makes him shiver in his seat.
But this is Harrys games and his rules. Louis has no say. Not this time.
To LT: No! I need you to be passive. Don’t move a muscle! I want your senses focused on what I am doing to them. I want you to see how I kneel before you. I want you to hear how I slowly pull your zipper down and I want you to feel my finger slip under the hem.
The answer is immediate and Harry’s amazed over how fast he is.
From LT: Damn it HARRY! I am so hard it hurts! Hurts! =( I need to use the bathroom!!!!
Yeah! He wishes!
To LT: NO! You will do no such thing! You are not allowed to touch yourself in any way! Sit on your hands Louis. That’s an order!!
From LT: Sir, yes SIR! Hands are securely locked under my bum. You know…. The one you like to fuck!! =P
Harry reads the message several times and his entire body bubbles with excitement. His breath hitches and he looks around him to see if anyone notices. They don’t.
To LT: Louis Tomlinson! Are you trying to get me horny?! ‘Cause you’re doin’ a fine job!! =P But be quiet now and let me tell you what I will do to you when we come home.
From LT: Am quiet!
Harry giggles. The message comes so quickly he hasn’t even had time to lower his hand and he lets his mind wonder while he writes back.
To LT: I am going to pull your jeans down and your underwear. But you’re not allowed to step out of them. I’m using them as a rope. I will grab your arise, hard. Feel how it fits perfectly in my hands and massage it slowly.
Feels nice after a long flight, huh?
He sends the message and looks at his watch. The plane will land within the hour and in two hours he can make this little fantasy into reality.
Time cannot move any faster.
From LT: Good Harry…. So goood…..please….keeep going…
To LT: I’ll go down on my knees and nibble the inside of your thighs. I’ll start low, down at your knees and bite my way up. I want you to try to remain quiet. I’ll kiss you and lick your soft skin all the way up. Oh and there we have your cock. Rock hard. Let’s not touch that yet! ;-) Let’s go for the bellybutton instead, just because it is sooo cute and ‘cause I love it! And I will swirl a little on your hips, maybe suck a little skin? It’s been a while since you had a visual hickey; let’s change that, shall we?
From LT: You are evil Harry! EVIL!! I can’t take this any longer. Almost two hours, that’s too looooong!! I am going to come in my boxers and it will be your fault!
Just the thought of Louis being stuck in another airplane thousands of meters up in the air, bursting with want makes him whimper.
A lady in her fifties who is closest to him turns around and looks curiously at him. He immediately presses the phone to his chest and forces a dazzling smile as he simultaneously crosses his legs to make sure his little “problem” isn’t showing. The lady looks like she is about to say something but regrets it and turns forward again and Harry exhales.
To LT: Of course I’m evil! You just wait and see, I’m not done with you yet Louis Tomlinson! How many love bites do you reckon I can make from your belly to your lips? Ten? Fifteen? I can’t wait to find out! And when I get to your soft mushy lips I shall taste them. Suck them in between my teeth and really taste them. I want you to meet my tongue with yours then Louis. I want you to kiss me as hard as you can. It is just me and you now baby and we don’t have to hide.
He checks the time again. Only seven minutes have passed since the last time he looked. God, time is not moving at all!
Luckily Louis is playing Lucky Luke and answers faster than his own shadow!
From LT: Oh I will kiss you Harry. You can be sure of that! And I will taste you and I will take over your mouth with my tongue.
That is if I don’t die from horniness on this plane first….
Ah Louis. Always the drama queen!
To LT: You will not die on the plane Louis. I simply forbid you to do such a thing. Besides it would really be a shame because then you would miss out on my hand slowly closing around your hard warm cock. You would miss how I’ll let my thump circle around the top smearing out the precome that I know is leaking from it.
Isn’t that so Louis?
The answer from Louis unwillingly makes him moan and he swiftly covers it up with a cough. But everyone seems to be asleep now and no one noticed.
From LT: My boxers are already wet! | 30f0503c2fe947af98c0fb000292f687 | ['a8683234c532448da5d5c13c40deae5f'] |
Surrender
BANG!
The phone smashed against the wall, splitting it into hundreds of tiny pieces. Louis would eventually regret doing that but right now he did not fucking care.
The break was almost over and in just a few days he was heading out to Australia to meet up with the others. To meet up with Harry.
Finally…
But really. What was the point. It wasn’t as if he was allowed anywhere near him on tour anyway. “No talking, no touching, no looking, no nothing unless you are absolutely sure no one can see you”.
Yeah right! And that would be like never.
Louis sighed and sloped down on the floor. He wanted to cry. He wanted to cry so bad right now, but the eyes remained dry. This call had ruined it all, or so it felt. This was the call were Modest would say “you just have to hold on to the end of the year. Then you are free to do as you please”
But they didn’t. Instead that squeeky terrible voice happily announced that both them and Eleanor had agreed to sign for another year.
“So you guys can just keep doing what you are doing and no damage will be done!”
Keep doing what they were doing.
Yeah…keep breaking apart piece by piece. Keep getting in to more and more fights just because they no longer knew how to be with eachother without acting. Keep pretending that everything was fine when actually nothing was fucking fine anymore.
"FUCK IT!!!"
Louis screamed and banged his fists against the floor and against the broken glass from the display.
"FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!"
He could feel the glass digging in to his hands but he didn’t care. He just wanted this to end. It just wasn’t right, wasn’t fair. Him and Harry, that should never have happened! Then they wouldn’t be in this shit right now.
The carpet in front of him were staining red with blood from his torn knuckles and suddenly he felt anger rushing up inside of him. So much anger and it was mostly towards Harry. Why did he have to come to the audition that day? Why did he have to sing that fucking song and why did he have to end up in this fucking band, ruining Louis down to the core of his existanse.
Louis didn’t want to love Harry. He didn’t want to miss him everyday they werent together. He didn’t want to feel what he felt whenever he heard his voice.
He just wanted to be, normal. Like a normal straight guy, with a normal straight girlfriend. How hard could that be?
He kept banging with his hands against the floor against the wall, against his head and knees. Feeling the anger and frustration building up inside of him, and when he felt a hand on his shoulder he nearly gave that someone hit.
"Louis? Louis what the hell are you doing?"
He looked up and met Eleanors concerned eyes.
She was nice… pretty even. And kind, very kind. It was only her job to be with Louis but she took it very seriously and sometimes Louis wondered if she didn’t acctually wanted more. But she never told and he didn’t care. Until now. God he was such a dirtbag! Using this beautiful woman, for his own benefits.
What if he could just be in love with her instead of Harry?
What if he culd just fall for her long silky hair and big brown eyes.
What if he could just learn to be straight.
What if….
"Hey…".. Eleanor stroked his cheek and cupped her hand underneath his chin and made him look up at her.
“Are you ok?”
And something snapped inside Louis heart.
Something important, but he didn’t care anymore.
He was making this stop right now….
He took her head between his hands, stroking her cheek and leaving a strain of blood after him. One deep breath and he heaved himself up on his knees and leaned forward. Eleanor looked at him, confused.
"Ehrm, Louis. What are you doing?"
He tangled his hand in her hair and pulled her so close their forhead touched. She smelled minty and fresh, nothing like Harry who always smelled sweet, almost like caramel but not quite…. SHUT UP! No Harry!
"Please" he whispered. "Please let me kiss you…"
Silence
Louis stared at the floor, waiting for something to happen.
Eleanor didn’t move for a long time and they remained close.
"Yes."
It was nothing more than a breath but it was the only aproval Louis needed.
He smashed his lips against hers. Tugging on her lips and forcing his tounge in to her mouth. There could be noting sweet about this. He would not survive that. Her lips where soft and full and they fought with his in a crazy battle that noone was winning. Her tounge danced with his and he could feel himself getting hard.
Really hard. This was right then?
His fingers fumbled with the buttons of her shirt and he ripped open the last part making them fly across the room. Eleanor had on a blacklaced brah that covered most of her petite breasts. He tried to take it of but couldnt.
Hell he hadn’t ever taken a girls brah of before.
"Need help?"
Eleanor breathed in to his mouth.
She broke of the kiss and removed the brah in one swift motion.
Louis imidiatly cuped them and started to kiss his way down from her mouth. Licking her neck and nibbling on her collarbone. She was obviously enjoying this because he could hear her breathing getting more and more ragged.
He squeezed her breast a little, not quite sure what he was supposed to do with them. They felt warm and soft but somehow, wrong.
No thinking…
"Take of your pants" he mumbled.
And Eleanore wasn’t late to respond. She unbuttoned her jeans and slowly let them slide down her thighs. |
520e8b21d302445597f4f0625fc34a06 | ['a880a8f848aa442db96a29dc7aa017b0'] | 'Alright, I don't wanna have to break this up into scenes.’ The director says with authoritative disdain, ‘That doesn't go down well with your viewers Black. So let's try to capture this in about twenty five to thirty minutes.'
Sirius doesn't correct the director on the use of his real name because he’s higher up the pecking order than a lowly pervert cameraman. The director is on good terms with the head of the company, and he’s someone Sirius doesn't like to argue with.
Sirius looks at the handsome man near him, his co-star for the afternoon. He’s tall with a well-muscled frame , his lips are pouty lips he’s quite fresh faced beneath his shaggy blonde hair. He has all the right qualities, and yet is lacking something that is so _ blindingly _ _obvious,_ Sirius can't really work out what it is. Something. Just something .
The director sweeps from the room to watch the closed-circuit recording in the editing room .The hair and make-up woman has finished with the other man, and she and the wardrobe assistants vacate, followed by the lighting guy, after he’s made a last minute, miniscule adjustment to the way the set is lit. This leaves Sirius, the man he’s about to fuck and the two man camera crew in the now empty seeming faux bedroom. Sirius feels more … at ease, but still terribly frightened. He always feels frightened when he's doing scenes like this.
He stands up and begins to dress, because it's so much sexier to undress one another rather than appear naked, seemingly out of the blue. When he's wearing his t-shirt, his jeans and he has his shoes and socks on, he sits on the bed. The man whose name he still doesn't t know sits beside him and they exchange a smile, mostly on this unknown entity's part.
Then the main camera man , one who is reasonable familiar to Sirius, though he has no idea of his name, nods at them and the camera starts to roll. 'Introduce yourselves,' he says in a low voice, loud enough for the camera but not loud enough to take the attention away from the two rather handsome men before him.
'My name is Orion White, I'm almost twenty and I'm from Westminster.' Sirius grins as charmingly as possible to the lens a few feet away, before he sinks into the embrace the other man is giving him. Eager beaver, Sirius thinks randomly, and wants to laugh.
'I'm Tyler Bass and I'm twenty two. I'm from Hertfordshire, which is a rather boring place compared to London.'
Sirius is a good actor; maybe that's why he's so popular and prosperous in the porn industry. He throws back his head and laughs, leaving it on Tyler's shoulder as his fingers toy playfully with the buttons on the man’s shirt. 'London really isn't all _that_ amazing.'
'It seems like it is.'
'Well trust me when I say more bad comes out of living here than good...' Sirius kisses Tyler's cheek, who winks at the camera.
'So, who's bottoming?' Tyler asks Sirius. 'Because I haven't topped in a long time...'
It's all fixed. They even have a fake coin with both sides that are heads so Sirius definitely tops. But it excites viewers; they anticipate the wait, the y like wondering through the fifteen minutes of foreplay about who is going to be the arse and who is going to pound said ass .
'I wanna top too,' Sirius replies, as flirtatiously as he can, 'let's flip a coin.' He pulls the rigged coin from his pocket and perches is on his fingertips. Then he winks at Tyler. Sirius flips it, not too high, he really doesn't want to fumble and drop it and have to start all over again. It lands neatly on his hand. 'Call it.' he dares Tyler.
Tyler laughs tauntingly at him and puckers his lips before saying softly, ' Erm , tails?'
Sirius looks down at his coin and looks up at Tyler, angling it so only he can see and not the camera.
_ Tease... _
'Alright,' He turns to the camera and says in his husky posh voice, 'you’ll just have to wait and see who won I guess...' He grins , and in all honesty is rather relieved at the fact that he does always get to top.
Tyler leans up to kiss him and their lips meet in a soft battle, Tyler pushes Sirius back on the bed, hovering over him momentarily before he lowers himself and covers Sirius’s whole body with his own . They make out rather vigorously and Sirius hears himself moan first. He shivers. This Tyler guy is quite good at kissing. Then he feels the man start to pull off his shirt and he helps him, canting his hips so his trousers can be pulled off too. Sirius slowly, teasingly, pushes Tyler off him and like a tortoise, he takes off his shoes as if he has all the time in the world.
But he doesn't. He has twenty two and a half minutes.
His shoes fall with thuds to the ground and he groans low in his throat when he's thrown back onto the bed.
'Do you like when I touch you?' Tyler asks, his voice a shade too loud for intimacy, because it’s not, it’s for the camera.
Sirius honestly doesn't care much for _ Tyler’s _ touching, it’s the same as all the others. He would rather just speed this up, so he nods despite his dignity, which is bashing around like an angry teenager inside him and telling him to just get the fuck out of the mess he's gotten himself into. He nods again in clear view of the camera this time, just to reassert the fact that he does indeed like it when Tyler touches him. | 1dd3871dbfef4780a4ef6a92d07e96d0 | ['a880a8f848aa442db96a29dc7aa017b0'] | 'Good,' Tyler says before he attaches his lips to Sirius's inked collarbone. Sirius pants under his breath. He can feel his hard on pressing into Tyler's stomach and thrusts gently against him, it’s something that will always feel good. They start kissing again and soon, they're both almost naked. Sirius throws Tyler's underwear over his head and pushes Tyler down, drawing the man's impressive prick into his mouth and sucking in earnest.
A salty bitter splash coats his tongue and he swallows it down, lapping at the head of Tyler's cock.
'Good god,' Tyler grunts , thrusting into Sirius's mouth in such a way that Sirius wonders if it’s all entirely acting.
'Easy boy. We have time.' Sirius breathes against his cock, looking up with his enormous gorgeous grey eyes and flicking his eyelashes. His cheekbones stand out magnificently when he goes down on people, and it seems as though Tyler loves it. Up and down. Down and up. Fluttering his tongue. Swallowing. Hollowing his cheeks in. Swallowing again. Tyler is putty in his hands.
'Fuck Orion,' Tyler pants, 'you're so good at this.'
Sirius uses this opportunity to swallow as much of Tyler as he can down his throat. The man gives a shout of surprise and then reaches down to pull Sirius away from his cock , and back up to his face, 'You have no idea,' he says against Sirius's swollen red lips, 'how close you were to getting a mouthful of my cum .'
Sirius grins at him and gives his cock and appreciative squeeze. 'I had an idea.'
'You tease.' Tyler whispers into his ear before he flips them so he's on top. He leaves a bruising kiss on each of Sirius's nipples before moving down to circle his navel with his tongue. 'When did you get this tattoo?' he asks.
Sirius gives out a breathy reply of, 'When I was sixteen.'
'What does it mean?' as Tyler asks this, he's breathing directly over Sirius's clothed cock and he grins up at him when Sirius moans once more.
'It means "Love Conquers All".' Then Sirius cries out as his Ralph Lauren boxers are pulled down his thighs and Tyler's hands are on his cock, slowly massaging, squeezing. Sirius has a nice prick, but then again, he can't exactly think that about himself, but that ’s what the fans say. It's long and thick with a dark gathering of black silky pubes at the base. It stands tall and proud. Sirius stretches his long pale limbs, the muscles in his arms and legs flexing.
'You have a gorgeous dick, might I just say.' Tyler compliments him, just as the script tells him to.
Sirius laughs and then is cut off when his cock is swallowed by the overwhelmingly tight, wet, warm mouth of Tyler Bass. Sirius knots his fingers in the man’s soft hair and begins to fuck his face, almost aggressively so, but Tyler doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he seems to be enjoying it, one hand pressed to Sirius's stomach to keep him from getting too rough, and the other stroking himself so he stays hard.
It feels like hours of carefully choreographed ecstasy have gone by, but i n reality it's been maybe fiftee n minutes - consisting of a long winded 69 that left Sirius’s abdominals burning, rimming which he much prefers receiving than giving, and of course, Sirius's favourite, getting his dick sucked some more.
One of the camera crew wave their hands in the air as a signal that they really need to be getting along now.
It's Sirius's turn to slide down Tyler's body. He presses kisses all over his torso ; to his neck, his chest, the firm muscles of his stomach. Then on to the s oft skin of his thighs , purposely gliding over his cock as he spreads Tyler's legs and sits between them.
Sirius looks at the camera and winks. 'I'm topping by the way.' He grabs the bottle of lube beside him and squirts a bit, the practiced , perfect amount, onto his fingers. Then he sneaks one between Tyler's legs and enters his finger. After half a minute, his second finger goes in, then his third, and soon Tyler is meeting his scissoring digits with a wanton enthusiasm.
Tyler snatches the condom from Sirius's fingers before he can unwrap it, he tears into it and unrolls it down Sirius’s length. They're both out of breath ; words have sort of escaped them now. After another apparently sweet kiss – empty, but _ by the book _ nonetheless – Sirius positions himself, hiking one of the man's slightly more tanned, hair-sprinkled, legs up at the knee with his hand. He presses his cock to the entrance, and as smoothly as he can, slides in. He lets out a guttural, low moan and tosses his head back just as Tyler whimpers.
'Fuck,' Sirius breathes before he sets a slow and steady pace, he doesn't think he’ll ever get bored of this feeling, the very first push, tight, slick and almost unbearably hot.
'You feel so good,' Tyler moans, carefully articulate, but when Sirius's thrusts grow harder and are roughly grazing his prostate with each and every pass, Tyler's camera conciseness slips, and his broken groaning isn't making sense. He's just … existing .
Sirius wishes he could get lost in the feeling too, just forget that this was all for show, that there would be people watching him. Editors and fans alike, analysing every inch of his body. But he can’t, he is always too present these days, too aware that all of it is an act.
He can't even remember the last he _ truly _ smiled, not the hollow curling up of his lips that happens for the camera, or for his boss, or for his neighbourhood weed dealer. A fake smile for the fake people in his fake life.
Sirius leans in and wraps his hand around the light-haired man's cock as he pounds into him. 'Say my name,' he growls into his ear. It’s not altogether for show, having a little more control over one tiny aspect of the situation helps him through.
As does Tyler’s magnificent pleading, 'Orion, oh god, Orion ... don't stop...'
Sirius feels like he’ s forcing himself less as the tempo increases, Tyler’s ankles are crossed behind Sirius’s neck now, and his knees are starting to ache as he pistons relentlessly into the man, not stopping until they get the cue that it’s time for the much anticipated doggy style. Tyler manages a graceful switch of position and Sirius drives in again , hard and fast.
Finally Tyler cries out his release. He trembles and clenches around Sirius and for a moment it's perfect. Really bloody perfect, it's so tight Sirius can hardly believe he hasn't come yet. Maybe because he's already climaxed twice this afternoon, with different men – a scheduling mix up he was told – but whatever the reason, Sirius i s indifferent to the lips gliding down his neck, over his lips, between his thighs.
The scene ends with Tyler performing rather spectacular fellatio on Sirius, which eventually sends him over the edge, and Tyler shows the camera the bucket-load of come in his mouth before swallowing and planting a solid kiss on Sirius's lips.
As soon as Sirius can get out of the room, he does. He knows the girls at reception watch and whisper about him as he passes through the public portion of the building . He’s yanking on his leather jacket and desperate to get to his bike and freedom. Freedom being relative of course. Tonight it’s a few lines of cocaine and smoking as much weed as his lungs can handle, until he's spinning, falling, tripping over the edge and there's no one there to catch him.
_ No one there to even care... _ |
f3f7b9969f664890ad13b0056fe728df | ['a885043eb5514f97982eb5dddc38300f'] | Akko fiddled with the controls for a mere moment, before the player began reading the tape, and the projector began to shine it's light upon the white screen.
The beginning of the tape was indescribable for Diana, she couldn't quite recognize anything, only being able to make out that it was a handheld camera recording of some sort of stage, with an audience waiting in patience.
With a large cloud of smoke suddenly forming on the stage, Diana instantly realized what she was watching.
It was something very memorable from her childhood, a Shiny Chariot performance. An intense wave of nostalgia washed over Diana as she witnessed a spectacle very similar to the one she saw as a child.
Akko fumbled about with some boxes as the tape kept rolling, Diana didn't notice, as her eyes were glued to the nostalgic light being projected onto the white fabric. Akko would occasionally peek back at the video as she was getting something out, her eyes locked onto the visual of Chariot flying through the sky, before going back to pulling out whatever she was getting into.
The performance eventually ended, as did the video tape, which automatically ejected out of the player. Diana's focus then turned from the now blank screen, to the nervous witch beside her.
"Well, that certainly was something! Is that all?"
"W-well, no it's not. I showed you that for a reason."
Akko held the card that Diana had given her, in her hand. The card was the special event card she was never able to get when she was younger, that she only now had, because of Diana.
"Chariot's performance brought me here, made me realize that I could become a great witch, let me meet Sucy and Lotte"
Akko's voice got ever so quieter as she began to approach her reasoning for tonight.
"let me meet you."
That constricting anxious feeling began to creep up on Akko, before she quickly breathed in and out, attempting to wash out the negativity building up within her, which worked fairly well.
"When we first met, I felt like you were just one of many people who thought I wouldn't make it, and I wanted to prove you wrong so bad. With everything that's happened since we met, we got closer."
"Well, I'm glad that despite how things started out, we understand each other, and have a strong bond."
"W-well I want to understand you more!"
Akko's sudden outburst caught both witches off guard, as if they were on a roller coaster that had taken a sudden break.
"What do you mean?"
"Just... give me a second I'm thinking."
_It was going so well! I just had to take it slowly! Why did I get scared that we would stay friends?!_
Akko very quietly lost her mind as she tried to pick up the pieces, while Diana sat in silence, having her own thoughts. After about a minute, Diana had decided to try and get things back on track.
"You mean, you want us to be closer as friends?"
The pieces lined up in Akko's head, she was somewhat afraid of taking the leap, but knew she would choke up if she didn't.
"N-no, not as friends."
With an audible gulp, and her eyes shut tight, Akko took the leap.
"I have a crush on you Diana, and want to be together with you."
The very moment the words left Akko's mouth, Diana's entire thought process had frozen. She had done more than just prepared herself for the worst, she actively expected it. In the brief period of silence, before things got any more awkward, Diana had thrown her arms around the nervous girl sitting next to her.
"I guess it's another thing we share in common, Atsuko Kagari."
What felt like ice melting in her mind for Diana, was a blazing flame of passion in her eyes for Akko, as the two of them had their worst fears for their relationship, blown away like flowers in the wind.
"S-so you want this to be a thing?"
"If the 'thing' is a relationship with you, then yes, I'd like it."
Akko turned toward Diana, now embracing her in a hug equally as tight as the one Diana had been giving to her.
"I cannot begin to describe how much I've wanted to confess to you this week, Akko."
"Same! I honestly thought I was going to go bonkers from all of the stress I've been going through thinking about it."
The two just stayed still in their hug, it was something the both of them had wanted, but weren't able to make happen until now. They wanted nothing more than to enjoy each other's embrace. Akko did realize that Lotte and Sucy would be back soon, and wasn't sure how Diana and her were going to handle their new situation, so she decided that things should probably end for now. And besides, she still needed to return something.
"Well, I guess I should put up all this stuff for Constanze."
Diana quickly popped up, just as Akko had to pack things up, starting to move toward the door to open it for her.
"So, what shall we do about this development?"
Akko sat for a moment, pondering the question from her newly professed lover.
"Well, I know a pretty nice cafe we can go to!"
Diana stood for a moment, thinking about her proposition.
"Yeah, yeah I'd like that."
The two of them walked out of the room, splitting off for the night, Diana paused before Akko had really gotten far ahead of her.
"Hey Akko."
"Yeah, Diana?"
"I love you."
Despite the fact that the two had just confessed to each other, Diana's 3 words were enough to catch Akko by surprise, making her nearly trip in response. In trying to come up with her own words, she just belted out whatever came to mind.
"I love you too!"
Akko quickly caught boxes that were slowly slipping from out of her hands, and walked in a very strange manor, as to redistribute weight, as she made her way towards the room of the Green Team. Diana smirked as she saw her seemingly waddle away, before rushing forward and offering to help her carry the boxes back to their room. Akko refused her proposition, as she wanted Diana to just take it easy for the night. Diana still ended up having to help, as Akko had dropped everything about 3 minutes later.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> I hope all of you have a gay new year. | d118e137fbdc47708efce7e5e297996b | ['a885043eb5514f97982eb5dddc38300f'] | Diana felt speechless, she really didn't know what to say. She stood up and levitated the books on the table, back to their rightful places on the walls. Akko looked up, back towards Diana, with the golden sunlight, shining against her tears.
"I will keep from overworking myself to death from now on, thank you Akko."
Akko quickly rushed toward Diana, and embraced her in a hug.
"Thank you Diana! Thank you so much." Akko mumbled as she sniffled against Diana's shoulder. Letting go of her classmate, Akko used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe away her tears, before putting back on the smile Diana was much more used to seeing.
"See you tomorrow, buddy!" Akko walked away from Diana, back towards where she came from, as she realized how late it was. Diana soon had the same realization, and began walking in the same direction, before they would both be in trouble.
Both witches had ended up at their dorms, with Akko saying goodbye to Diana before the high-class witch had entered her room. Akko was immediately thrust into conversation with Lotte and Sucy, mostly Lotte.
"How did it go Akko? Did you let her know everything?"
"Well, she's still not really aware of my crush, but hey, she's going to stop working so hard, and that's what was more important."
This situation did seem a bit complicated for Akko, she did still want to tell Diana how she felt, but knowing how much of a shift both witches have been going through, she had no idea how long she would have to wait.
"No matter what happens, I'm sure she'll know eventually, and whatever happens after that, is up to her."
Akko felt rather complete in her thoughts with Diana that night, she still wasn't sure what the future had in store for her, but she felt comfortable enough that she could rest easy. The same could not be said for Diana, however.
"See you tomorrow, buddy!"
The words rang through Diana's head, the feeling of the hug, the tears on her face, it all flashed through her mind. She felt like a switch had been flipped in her mind, and now she wasn't sure what was going on. Maybe it was the situation with work messing with her mind, but something was definitely up with her emotions.
She eventually fell asleep, with her mind essentially feeling like it was being melted with all different kinds of emotions. She had so many questions about work, about her future, about herself in general, but she only had one answer:
She really liked that hug from Akko.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Well, I don't have much to say.
> Clearly saying "I'll try to update more often!" and then going completely dark for a month is probably not the best thing to do.
> I do give my sincerest apologies, my life has just gotten more complicated in general since Chapter 2 and I've felt too crap to write lately.
> On top of that, my spark of love for LWA has kind of flickered a bit since it's been nearly a year since I finished it (time is going by too fast y'all) which shouldn't be a major issue, I love the show still, but it not being an active love kind of makes it hard to consistently work on this fic.
> Either way, I don't plan on dropping this fic or having anything keep me from finishing it in general.
> Still not sure what chapter I want to end at, but I can assure everyone that there is quite a bit to go.
4. Affection
Grass seemed more vibrant, the smallest of sounds were easy to pick out, the heat felt warmer and the chill felt colder. Everything in general felt better to Diana Cavendish after she rolled back her extra school work, she was still doing more than she needed to, but what she gave up was a nice start. Even with how much she was still doing, her mind felt much more relaxed than it was before. Akko's advice had helped her in ways she didn't expect.
Akko's advice had helped her in many ways.
Akko's advice had helped her.
Akko had helped her.
Akko; that's who Diana had on her mind. As much as she was relaxing, she was also thinking about the witch who had helped her out. Diana had certainly grown comfortable around her, considering the rocky start to their friendship. However, something had changed recently, concurrent with her new mindset.
Akko's tears full of emotion, her tight and comforting hug, everything about that situation had felt so different for Diana. She couldn't just stop thinking about it, what had happened between those two had seemingly implanted this strange idea into Diana's mind, that something grander had happened with her and Akko.
Diana mulled over the thoughts she was having, and a small idea popped into her head, one that she didn't expect what so ever.
_Perhaps it's just infatuation?_
The thought caused Diana to physically stop what she was doing, she never expected a thought like that to cross her mind. A lot of thoughts enter her head, and a lot of them get filtered out, but this one has really made Diana consider possibilities she never even dreamed of.
The infatuation itself wasn't even something that seemed out of the realm of possibility. While Diana hadn't really delved into the realm of romance at that point in her life, she did know that, based on experience, she didn't have the same boundaries like other witches around her. She wouldn't admit it fully, but how she would view girls wouldn't be any different to how she would view men. While she didn't particularly care for either of them, she did know that if she did, then she would be as likely to be interested in a guy, as she would a girl. |
c7ebbae700ac48cda73b0ff7bcbd0fe5 | ['a8a64ca1572b4112b6688a225d9725c7'] | “I noticed you have two revolvers on both sides of your legs. I’ve seen guns before.” Valerie pointed. “But somehow I was sure you wouldn’t hurt me. The moment you looked at me I saw the good in your eyes. Thought that you’re a good man.”
“I need to disappoint you, but I’m not. I’m far from being good.”
“I’ve seen bad guys in my life, Arthur.” She said as their eyes met again. “But I also have seen good guys. Of course, there are less good guys than bad ones, but still… I would never tell you’re the bad one.”
Arthur didn’t know what to reply, so he kept staring at her, his mouth slightly opened in shock. For all his life he’s been feeding himself with a thought that he couldn’t be good. He would never be good even if he tried. It was out of his reach. However, in one moment that certainty was destroyed by the words of one girl. _Maybe deep inside he was good?_ At least he wanted to believe there was still hope for him.
“Did I say something wrong?” Valerie asked, seeing the concentration on his face.
“Nah, it’s me,” Arthur replied, shaking his head. “I’m not used to people telling me I’m a good person. That’s it.”
“Oh, I understand.” She paused for a moment. “That’s a shame. I just wanted to ask you to do me a favour.”
“What kind of favour?” His lifted his one brown, interested in her request.
“I know we barely know each other, but… Would you consider joining me at the party my uncle organizes this week?” She asked. “To be clear, it’s nothing obliging.”
“Do you really think it’s a good idea?” Arthur sighed. “We barely know each other.”
“Well, we can get to know each other.” Valerie smiled and Arthur was sure her fingertips touched his on purpose. “In a company of a few good drinks and the elite of Saint Denis.”
“Interesting… Keep talking.”
“It won’t be long. I just need to be there for my uncle. I have to show up, make other people see me and we can go.”
“Alright… You got me at a few good drinks.” Arthur smiled as he saw her face lighten up with a grin.
“It means a world to me, Arthur. Thank you so much.”
She’s so different. Different than any girl he used to have before. For a short moment, it crossed his mind that maybe she was the one he’s been looking for all his life. A reason why the other relationships didn’t work out. _Maybe it was a sign? Maybe he should try again?_ He wanted to give himself another chance, he wanted to do that - but a part of him was scared. Scared of rejection and an eventually broken heart. But for these eyes… This smile… He was willing to try.
3. World of high society's parties
_There is this thing about love, it always hits us when we least expect it. Always catches us off guards, making us do things we normally wouldn’t have thought of._ And Arthur… Oh, he wasn’t ready to feel this weird feeling again, after all these years of feeling nothing, but pain. However, he couldn’t do anything to stop his heart from racing every time he looked at her. Valerie appeared in his life so unexpectedly and was someone so kind, so pure, so different from other girls he used to know before her. She smiled and looked at him with her light blue eyes and he forgot about all the world around him. There was an unspoken connection between them from the day they met. It was something odd for him - something he has never really experienced before. _How could someone, who he hardly knew, mess with his mind so much?_
The change in his behaviour was quickly noticed by Hosea when Arthur got back to Clements Point happier than ever. He used to come back from his journeys angry or in a neutral mood, so seeing him smiling from ear to ear was something Hosea wasn’t expecting. Immediately, it made him wonder what must’ve happened to Arthur, the man he treated like his own son, to make him so happy he didn’t care about Micah antagonising him for all day long. He was waiting for the right moment to ask him about this rapid change in his mood and behaviour when he noticed Arthur sitting under the tree, as usual, drawing something in his diary.
“Where have you been, boy?” He approached slowly him and asked, leaning his arm against a tree. “And what happened to you that you’re smiling from ear to ear like a youngster?“
He didn’t reply at first, absorbed in a drawing he was working on. Hosea crouched and looked over his shoulder, making Arthur flinch, startled by his presence.
“Fuck, Hosea, you can’t just sneak on other people like that!” Arthur said, looking up from his journal.
“I didn’t sneak on you, I asked you a question but you didn’t reply.” He said in his defence. “The girl you were drawing before I interrupted… She’s really pretty. Who is she?”
Arthur shook his head in response and a short laugh escaped his mouth.
“I ain’t gonna talk about it with you, Hosea. My teenage years are long gone.”
“Are they? Cause you’re acting like one goddamn teenage boy, Arthur.” Hosea said, joining him under the tree. “Spill it. What’s her name?”
“Valerie.” Arthur sighed, knowing he would never win with Hosea’s stubbornness. “I met her a few days ago in Saint Denis.”
“What were you doing in there?” He kept going with his questions. _Old, curious man._
“I simply wanted to check if there is anything to be enchanted about.“
“Looks like there is.” Hosea chuckled, looking again at Arthur’s drawing. “She looks pretty young.”
“I guess, it’s because she is young.” | 11dd9ffb615044259a6a244981fc9bbd | ['a8a64ca1572b4112b6688a225d9725c7'] | And with these words, you’ve had enough. You immediately stood up and walked away from a campfire. This wasn’t your best day. It was even one of the worst days you’ve ever had in your life. Everything was falling apart and you didn’t know what to think anymore. You brushed your hair back from your forehead, trying to think rationally, but you knew it was pointless.
Suddenly you felt John’s hand grabbed yours then he took you a bit behind the camp so no one could see you and pushed your back to the tree you were standing next to. When he put his hands on both sides of your head you knew you couldn’t escape. But you didn’t want to escape. You felt broken and all you wanted was to ease your pain.
John leaned down to you. He was so close you could feel his breath on your skin and his heart beating so loud so you could hear it.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “For a minute I wanted you to feel like I do when I constantly look at you and Morgan.”
“It sucks, doesn't it?”
“Yeah.” John sighed, turning his head away but you stopped him with your hand.
“Look at me, John.” You kept your voice down. “Don’t turn away from me.”
And as your eyes met, the tension between you two started to grow up rapidly and you were aware where it was going, but you didn’t stop it. You didn’t want it to stop.
He grabbed your chin and lifted it up gently as he was leaning to kiss you. The kiss you shared was so pure, so subtle, so needed for you both. You closed your eyes and focused on John. He was your distraction as you desperately wanted him to be one. Slowly the kiss was becoming more intense. You put your hands in his hair, pulling yourself even closer to him while his hands wandered to your waist.
“Fuck, beautiful.” His husky voice made you shivered. “I wish it was me who you kiss like that every goddamn day.”
“John...”
“Just... please, remember the way I kissed you.” He kept his voice low. “Because I will never forget the way you kissed me even if you did it only to forget about him.”
“You love him, not me. You love a bastard who is looking after his ex.” John murmured after you didn’t say anything for a while. “While he has you.”
You remained silent as you couldn’t find words to say. John smirked when his hand touched your cheek realizing it was burning hot. You looked down trying to hide your embarrassment. Suddenly you felt bad you let him kiss you.
“It was a mistake, John.” You shook your head. “Moment of weakness.”
“I don’t doubt it, beautiful.” He chuckled giving you some more space. “But you enjoyed it, didn’t you? So maybe it wasn’t a mistake after all, huh?”
You got out of his grasp and let him walk you back to the camp. You didn’t talk just walk in awkward silence for a minute or two. What you did was wrong and you started to feel guilty. You had no idea what Arthur was doing when he was with Mary so you couldn’t say it was a payback. Or revenge.
You had to admit Arthur was your weakness and John knew that well. So when you were defenseless he used it to get what he really wanted. He wanted you and it was obvious. He wanted to mess in with your head and he succeeded. But what happened when you arrived back to the camp hit you like thunder.
Arthur came back, but he wasn’t alone. He brought Mary with him to the camp. And the only sentence he said was:
“It’s not what it looks like.”
But you knew what you saw and what it meant.
7. Chapter 7
You couldn’t gather your thoughts. You couldn’t find words to say. You were just staying over there looking blankly at Arthur and Mary. She was holding his arm when Dutch approached them and he didn’t seem pleased. There was a rule: no strangers in the camp and Arthur simply disobeyed him by breaking it. But from the look of his face, you could see he didn’t care about that much.
“Y/N.” John said staying behind you. “Let me –”
“No.”
You didn’t listen to him. You never listened to anyone when you were mad and at that moment you had to use all your inner strength not to kill someone in your sight. You were slowly walking towards them, carefully watching Mary. She was really pretty. No wonder why Arthur used to love her at some point in his life.
You didn’t care that everyone else was watching stealthily what you were doing. You didn’t care that John was watching. Suddenly the grief you felt turned into rage and you couldn’t control it any longer.
“What is she doin’ here, Arthur?” You desperately wanted to hear his answer. You completely ignored Mary’s presence next to him. _He was yours, not hers._
“I can explain…”
“It’d better be good, Arthur or I swear I won’t be so calm.” You clenched your fists, using all your strength to control your words and actions.
You looked at Mary with anger as she was still holding Arthur’s arm. Her face was fulfilled with fear, but you didn’t care about it at all. You were just about to say something mean to her when Dutch interrupted you.
“One night.” He hissed. “And I don’t want to see her here in the morning. What the hell were you thinking?”
“Dutch…” Arthur looked at him desperately. “Thank you.”
Dutch didn’t answer just shook his head in disapprobation. He walked away leaving you three on your own. You were waiting for an explanation from him, but the longer you waited for it the less you wanted to hear it. |
806061a7ea1046199219d3fdda8ac237 | ['a8b13438e7cf4cb5b0abe26b105692cf'] | The driver chuckled “You know something, i like you, cocky in the face of danger, i admire that in a person” a clock goes off, the driver looks at his watch “Oh would you look at the time? I gotta go” just after he said that he cracked them both with the gun hard enough to knock them unconscious.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Mark opened his eyes to find everything dark, well duh i have a bag over my head he thought to himself. He reached up and found that he was no longer tied down or handcuffed. He pulled the bag off his head and his jaw dropped. He was in a dark room with hanging meat hooks with what looked like pig or something of that nature hanging from them.
He stood from the chair and looked around, it was freezing “What the fuck?” he muttered to himself “Where the hell am i?”
“Ah i see you’re awake” came a sweet swedish sounding voice from above him “Perfect, now we can get started with the fun”
“Where the hell am i you sick bastard?!” Mark yelled.
“Oh i wouldn’t yell if i were you”
“What? Why not?” the voice didn’t need to answer as Mark heard clanging coming from behind him. Mark slowly looked behind him and seen a big scary looking man carrying a meat cleaver. Mark gulped and started to back away only to hit another pig rattling the chain and meat hook. The butcher looked his way, Mark seen the manic smile spread across the man’s face before he charged.
Mark took off in a sprint which he knows he should pace himself and try being as quiet as he could. Mark slowed down and slowly came to a quiet stop as he listened for the man, he didn’t hear him so he figured he was safe, for now anyway. Mark went to take a step forward but froze when he felt breathing down his neck.
Mark slowly looked behind him and seen the butcher right behind him, but he noticed something else to. The man wasn’t doing anything, just looking at him. Mark couldn’t move out of fear of what this man might do, he did see something shining in the little light coming from what he thought might be a kitchen.
It was a key Are you fucking kidding me? Mark thought. He had to have that key, he just did. Suddenly there was a loud crash in a room not too far off, the butcher’s head shot up and over to the sound. As the man wasn’t looking Mark reached up and snatched the key from around his neck and took off running towards the door.
Mark didn’t even look behind him as he heard the butcher running after him because he was faster than him. Mark put the key in the lock and turned it, the door opened and Mark ran through then slamming the door behind him. Mark was able to take the key with him so he locked the door behind him.
Mark was pretty sure the butcher couldn’t get through so he took a break to calm his nerves down and catch his breath. Mark sat down on the ground, I’ve gotta find Aaron he thought to himself as he sat on the forest floor “Well done, you’ve escaped the butcher, too bad he couldn’t see good in that poor light” the voice said “Now let’s see if you can find your friend before he’s eaten by the beast” just as he said that Mark heard a scream “Oops, too late”
Mark took off to find the scream, to find Aaron.
Aaron woke up to find himself blind then he remembered the bag over his head. He reached for his head to find himself untied and uncuffed, he breathed a sigh of relief. He slowly pulled the bag off his head to find himself in a forest of some kind. His eyes widen “What the bloody hell? Where am i?” he mumbled to himself.
“Ah Yami you’re awake, good, now we can have some fun”
“What do you mean? What fun? This isn’t fun”
“Oh it will be. Oh and i would start running if i were you, here comes the beast”
Aaron didn’t know what the voice was talking about but he did hear a twig snap. He looked around but he couldn’t see a damn thing in front of him. He heard a growl and a snarl, then he heard footsteps, big, heavy footsteps. Aaron screamed, he did not want to find out what that thing was, he took off on a run. Bad idea. Whatever was stalking was now chasing him and it was a lot faster than he was. The only thing he thought he could do was hide, but where was he going to hide in the middle of the forest.
Aaron stopped dead in his tracks as he came to a cliff, he turned around and faced the beast. Now that he got a good look at it in the moonlight, it looked kinda like a big black wolf with blue eyes that shined in the moonlight. Aaron stopped shaking as best as he could. The beast started to run and right before the beast jumped Aaron jumped and rolled out of the way.
The beast ended up going over the cliff and falling to it’s demise.
“Aaron!” came Mark’s voice. Aaron groaned as Mark came running “You okay man?” Aaron nodded as he raised his hand. Mark helped him up “What happened?”
“I was amazing that’s what” Mark rolled his eyes “I was being chased” Aaron walked to the edge of the cliff “By a monster dog or something, anyway i ran here and just as it jumped at me i jumped out of the way and it fell off the cliff”
“Damn”
“Ah look you’re making progress” Mark and Aaron start to look around trying to find the voice “Now i will have you know your fans are watching every move you make” Mark looked up and seen a camera, Mark pointed and Aaron nodded. The two pick up a rock “Now i’m not going to lie, i thought you would be dead by now, but i guess i was proven wrong again"
Mark and Aaron throw their rocks, the first one misses while the other smashes the camera “Oh naughty, naughty, do you have any idea how much these cameras cost?” Mark sees another camera “Here i am putting all this together, being nice” Mark throws another rock at the other camera smashing it “I could be so much more evil”
“Oh yeah? How so?” Mark demanded “What are you gonna do, shove us somewhere else more life threatening?!”
“Mark shut the bloody hell up before you get us into more trouble” Aaron said.
“Don’t tempt me Fish. I’ve been nice enough to put all this together and here you are insulting me, breaking my things. When i say i can make your life here so much worse you better believe it”
“Is this what you did to Core Baker?!” Mark barked, he was so upset with this already.
The voice chuckled evilly “Cora Baker asked too many questions, like you” a deep fog started to roll in “The only difference being” Mark and Aaron started coughing as they inhaled the fog, they got sleepy “She survived” and with that they fell over unconscious. | ba4efb4ed8e84bf29e7a99c713415fcd | ['a8b13438e7cf4cb5b0abe26b105692cf'] | It was starting to get Dark out when everybody came out of the arcade after playing games all day. Mark and Yami had to get back to Mark’s apartment before it got too dark to do anything else. When everyone reaches their cars their jaws drop, everybody’s tires were slashed.
“What in the HELL?! My car!” Mark yelled.
“Who would have done this?” Yami asked.
“Well whoever did it is going to pay for it!”
“Mark calm down, geez” Bob said.
“Mark if it makes you feel any better i will buy you new tires” Felix said then clapped his hands together “Right, we need to get back to where we’re staying and get some sleep for VIDCON tomorrow”
“Yeah you’re both right. Right. We’ll get Uber's” Mark said with a smile on his face.
“Nice try Mark, but who is going to drive us this late at night?” Wade asked.
“Alright fine we’ll get cabs”
Felix yawned as Bob called the Taxi place at this hour, Wade called a tow truck, and Felix texted someone. Mark needed to get home, he shouldn’t have left Chica there all alone.
When the Cabs came everyone was eager to get going because of the hour, they were all yawning. As Mark and Yami went to get into their cab Bob grabbed Mark’s arm “Mark i don’t like the look of that guy”
“Bob it’s almost midnight, i need to get home and take care of Chica before i go to bed. Have a fun night with Wade Bob” Mark said yawning as he got into the cab.
It was five minutes into the ride that Yami noticed something wrong with Mark, he was looking out the window, watching everything. He seen his eyes moving everywhere like he was watching where they were. Now that Aaron looked out his window he did notice that this didn’t look like the way back to Mark’s apartment, or how he remembered it.
Mark pulled out his phone and opened it, his eyes narrowed as he seen he didn’t have any serveries. Mark looked over at Aaron “Aaron let me see your phone” he whispered. Aaron was confused but handed him his phone and fell asleep. Mark sweared quietly as he let the phone slip back to the seat beside the sleeping British Man.
The cabby chuckled “Oh did you really think that would work Mark?” he dangled some kind of metal box in the front seat “You had to have known i wouldn’t make it that easy”
“Who the hell are you?” Mark demanded.
“Oh nobody special. I’m just the delivery boy”
“Okay, so where are you taking us?”
“Outside of the city”
“I see that but where?”
“Can’t say”
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
An hour pass’s of turning down alleys and backstreets, avoiding cameras at all cost. Mark had to know who this man was working for “So tell me, if you can’t say where we’re going?” Aaron yawns and sits up, he looks around “Tell me who you’re working for”
“What?” Aaron asked as he looked around “Wait hold on, what’s going on?”
“We’re being kidnapped Yami”
“What?!” Yami goes for the door only to find the child lock on.
Aaron gulped “Are you going to answer my question now?”
“All i can say is that he is a very wealthy fan, other than that i don’t ask questions about my clients”
<
“What does he want from us?” Yami asked.
“Hell if i know”
One hour later the cab finally comes to a stop, the driver gets out and walks to the back of the car. He opens the trunk first and pulls out some kind of small chain and handcuffs. He walks over and opens Yami’s door, he pulls him out by his shirt and slammed him against the car. The man cuffs his hands together in front of him, the man slams the door closed and walks to the other side.
The driver opens Mark’s door and does the same to him “Why cuff our hands in front of us? Don’t you think we might be able to get out?”
“Mark shut up” Yami hissed between clenched teeth.
“Don’t worry Aaron he can’t hurt us, he’s being paid too much to actually do damage” Mark said smugly “Oh and a news flash, don’t slash a guys bran new tires trying to make it look like they did it themselves, makes a guy nervous around cabbies”
Mark yelped in pain as the driver hit him over the head with the butt of a 9mm pistol, Mark held his head as he groaned. The man showed them the pistol “Okay first off” he said with a smirk as he whipped Mark’s smug look off him “Clever Fish. Second off, yes i can hurt you. Third off, i’m not the one who slashed your tires dick weed” Mark and Aaron give him a confused look. The driver pointed the gun behind them “Get moving”
Aaron threw his hands up “Okay, okay, don’t hurt us”
The driver led them into an abandoned warehouse by gun point, Mark would sometimes look back at the man but would get nugged by the barrel of the pistol in his back. Yami was only looking ahead of him, too afraid to look behind him. When they made it to the middle where there were two wooden chairs the driver pushed the two into them.
The driver then tied them to the chairs buy a robe that was on the floor he left there. The driver put a black sack over their heads “Oh god, now you decide to put bags on our heads. After walking us in here without them?”
“I didn’t feel babysitting you’re every step into this hell hole, so forgive me if this wasn’t the kidnapping you hoped for Markimoo”
“Kidnapping? More like train wreck” Mark scoffed. |
92248d6d22844cc6967658ff559a76a4 | ['a8b86fd162874e65ab6dea8961f401bf'] | John swallowed, his heart caught between the extremes of _stressful_ and _mind-blowing._ "We can have sex again," he said slowly. "We can't redo five years."
Rodney's face crumpled. "Okay, the thing is, you don't know that. Maybe there was a reason I was stressed. Maybe we'll never have this chance again."
John nodded, and it hurt to say it, but he couldn't stop now. Whatever he wanted, whatever Rodney wanted, they had to face the truth first. "I know. But that's kind of the point. I mean, if there was a reason, don't you want to know?"
Rodney opened his mouth to speak, but John cut him off with a hand. "No, think about it. If there was no way to fix you, it wouldn't matter, and we'd just have to deal. But there is a way. And if you bury your head in the sand, you'll always wonder what it was. It'll niggle at you, until it drives you nuts."
"Damn it," Rodney said. "You're right. How are you right about this?"
John's chest was cold and tight again, and he'd never regretting winning an argument so much in his life. "I've known you for five years," he said.
"Oh, God," Rodney said, and then his hands were on John's arms and they were kissing, hard and desperate, like it was their last chance. "Promise me," Rodney said, pulling back. "Promise me you'll tell me everything, afterwards."
"Rodney—"
"Oh, no. I'm not doing this until you promise. I'm not going to be able to drag it out of you this time. I won't even know the right questions to ask. Come on, you owe me this, John."
"Fuck," John said, and closed his eyes. "Look, I don't know if you remember this, but talking isn't exactly my strong suit."
"I _know,"_ Rodney said. "What do you think I'm worried about?"
"I'm going to need you to tell me about the thing that was stressing you out. When you remember it, I mean."
"I can't promise that. I won't even remember I forgot it."
"Right." Crap. There was no easy way out of this.
"John," Rodney said, and the misery on his face hurt worse than the prospect of losing everything.
"Okay," John heard himself say. "Fine. I promise."
* * *
Zelenka convinced Rodney to take the device to the infirmary, on the grounds that they didn't know how it would affect him. But in the end it was no big deal. As Keller watched, Rodney gave John one last, furtive look, and then raised the thing to his forehead.
"What the . . . ?" He sat up with a jerk, staring around the room. "Okay, what just happened? It can't be a transporter, because Sheppard is here."
Sheppard. Not John. Funny how he'd gotten used to the name.
"What's the last thing you remember?" Keller asked.
"We were on MQ8-73B," Rodney said. "We'd just repaired a rift in the fabric of space-time, and the Hlexwa were so pleased they showed us their secret collection of Ancient artifacts. Why?"
"You've lost a couple of weeks," Keller said, laying a hand on Rodney's arm. "Dr. Zelenka can explain better than I can."
John crossed his arms over his chest and stepped back as Zelenka explained about the memory device. His gut hurt, and so did his head, and Rodney was right in front of him, but he missed him so badly he wanted to hit something.
"Wait," Rodney said. "I forgot the hive virus, my citrus allergy, and _Sheppard?"_
Zelenka shrugged. "From what we could tell, the device removed only memories that were actively causing you stress."
"Oh," Rodney said, and his face shuttered, like he damn well knew what it meant.
John couldn't take any more of this, not here, where he couldn't even ask. He stepped forward and clapped Rodney on the shoulder. "Good to have you back to yourself," he said, falsely hearty. "I'll see you when you're up and about."
"Of course," Rodney said, and he looked as uncomfortable as John felt. But it was done. The decision was made. There was no going back, now, and this was his Rodney, the old Rodney, the one that remembered him.
Right.
The one who'd been happier to forget him.
* * *
John didn't see Rodney again that evening, but it was hardly surprising — he was exhausted with ship-lag himself, and Rodney had been up eight hours longer than he had. When he finally went back to his quarters, he crashed face down on his bed and woke eight hours later with his boots still on.
He stumbled out of bed and to the mess, only to find Rodney already there. But of course Rodney was hours ahead of him.
John was heading for another table when Rodney looked up, and then he couldn't not sit with him, because it would be too obvious.
"You're up early," he said as he put his tray down. He was pretty sure that was a normal sort of thing he would have said two weeks ago.
"Yes, well, apparently I completely screwed up my internal clock during those two weeks I can't remember."
John controlled a wince. "We had to stagger shifts in the jumper. You took the night shift, Atlantis time."
"Ah," Rodney said, and went back to his bacon. "So we're okay, then? Because Ronon said we'd been kind of, um, at odds."
John took a too large, too hot gulp of coffee and had to swallow it, fast and painful. "You forgot about me," he said before he could think better of it.
"It's not like I did it on purpose," Rodney said. "I didn't forget _anything_ on purpose."
"I know," John said. "I'm not blaming you."
"Okay," Rodney said. "Okay, good."
"It was just kind of weird," John said.
"Yes, well, it's more than a little weird to be missing two whole weeks. Teyla said we met with Todd?" | 170cf5201932441197c4d4280761b737 | ['a8b86fd162874e65ab6dea8961f401bf'] | And Ronon was already leading the way to a table — by the wall, thank God. John nodded vaguely at Teyla as he walked by, and pretended he didn't see her assessing gaze in return. He didn't look at Rodney, but Rodney wasn't looking at him, either, which he knew because, right. Not looking.
John managed to sit with his back to Rodney. Not that it helped much, because now he didn't know if Rodney was looking at him.
Ronon set to eating with his usual single-minded intensity — he had four sandwiches to get through — and that was another thing John liked about him. A guy could have a little peace and quiet in his presence.
"You should talk to Teyla," Ronon said.
Or not. "I'm fine."
Ronon lifted his head and looked John up and down, slowly and deliberately. "You don't look fine," he said, and who the hell had given him a degree in psychology?
"Look," John said. "McKay and Zelenka are going to figure the damn thing out and then everything will be back to normal."
Ronon frowned. "What if they can't?"
"McKay can fix anything," John said.
Ronon bit off half of one of his sandwiches and chewed thoughtfully. "Talk to Teyla."
"I told you, I'm fine," John said, because he could be as stubborn as anyone.
"I could tell the doc you need a psych evaluation."
"Okay, fine," John said, because that was playing dirty, but he knew when he was licked. "I'll talk to her later."
"Good," Ronon said, and gave him a look that said he was going to follow up on that.
Okay, so maybe Ronon could give him a run for his money on the stubbornness thing.
* * *
Avoiding Rodney, Teyla, _and_ Ronon was a hell of a lot harder than avoiding Rodney alone, but John was up for the challenge. He had some paperwork to do, and there were a bunch of new gene carriers on the base who needed practical experience flying jumpers. And if some of them were surprised to be getting private lessons from their military commander, well, that wasn't John's problem.
He'd just gotten back from a lesson when his radio buzzed in his ear. "Colonel Sheppard to the gate room." It was Sergeant Banks, in a tone that said it was an emergency.
"On my way," John said, and the rush of adrenaline carried him down the stairs at double time.
Ronon and Teyla were just arriving, and Rodney was already there.
"We have a situation, sir," Banks said, and Rodney broke in, "Yeah, that's one way of putting it. Clark and Egglund just managed to blow up building G on the south pier."
"Holy crap," John said, and leaned in to look at the screen. For once Rodney wasn't exaggerating — the base of the twelve-story, dome-roofed building was mostly blown away, the upper floors still partially intact, supported by a few remaining columns like a spindly, lopsided mushroom. "How is that still standing?"
"I have no idea," Rodney said.
"Sir, Clark and Egglund are dead, but there are three scientists trapped on one of the upper floors. We need to move quickly; there's no telling how long it's going to hold."
Right. Action. "Sergeant, evacuate the area. Make it the whole pier, just to be safe. Teyla, Ronon, McKay, you're with me." And he turned toward the stairs that led back up to the jumper bay.
"Wait, wait, wait, hold on a second," Rodney said, and John whirled.
Jesus, how had he forgotten?
Rodney's eyes were wide. "Are you crazy? You can't take a jumper in there! It's going to fall any second."
"Which is why we're going now," John said. "Not ten minutes from now. So get a move on!"
"Look, I'm sure I'm not vital to this mission," Rodney said. "You have Ronon and Teyla, what do you need me for?"
"You're team, McKay," John said, and fuck, he should have defied Woolsey and insisted on replacing Rodney, because then he would already have Zelenka here.
"Yes, yes," Rodney said, "but I'm sure someone else could do the job far more effectively. In this particular case."
John stepped into Rodney's space, using every advantage of height and glower he possessed. "Yes, it's going to fall. That's why I need someone with me who can turn the jumper's cloak into a shield when it does. You remember how to do that?"
Rodney shifted on his feet. "Well, yes, but—"
"Dr. McKay," Woolsey said, arriving out of breath from the stairs, "we need you with Colonel Sheppard's team now. We have reason to believe that time is critical."
Rodney looked from Woolsey to John with darting, terrified eyes, and okay, John got it. Rodney didn't remember him, so he didn't remember all of the times they'd played the odds together and won.
"C'mon," John said more gently, with a hand on Rodney's arm. "We do this all the time."
"We do?" Rodney said, but when John turned to go, he followed.
* * *
The building looked worse from the jumper, twisted and torn, the top-heavy upper floors visibly swaying in the wind.
"Leveque, Nakalinzi, Marr, do you copy?"
"Colonel Sheppard, this is Nakalinzi," a woman's voice came back. "I have Dr. Marr and Dr. Leveque here with me."
John brought up the life signs array and saw them — three glowing dots just above the gaping hole. "I've got you on my screen," he said. "We're going to get you out of there."
"Just hurry," Nakalinzi said. "We don't know how much longer this is going to hold."
"Can you get to a window?" John said. "If you can break it, we can pick you up in the jumper."
"I don't think so," Nakalinzi said. "Every time we move, the floor shakes so badly we're afraid it's going to go." |
6ad78b23b9914b1190b1c2a1558aae75 | ['a8c892f54a4e416e8a6fbe61a926bd3d'] | On monday morning Haru dragged himself out of bed, going through his morning routine while still half-asleep. The morning mist felt wooly and oppressive, and did little to wake him up. He was on autopilot at the bakery and by the time 7:30 rolled around Haru didn’t feel much more awake than he had when he had first gotten out of bed. He sold croissants and coffee in a sort of stupor until 7:50 when he shook himself awake and promised to be more alert for the next customers. But five minutes and two customers later he found himself slumping forward on the counter and doodling absentmindedly on the inside of his forearm.
He was adding thorns to a little sketch of rose that curled around the bone on his wrist when the bell on the door tinkled slightly. Haru’s head shot up and he found Makoto standing with his hand on the door, only halfway into the shop, talking on his cell phone. He shot Haru a quick grin before he went back to his conversation. Haru fidgeted slightly behind the counter, finding both looking at his hands and looking at Makoto intolerable. After another two seconds he turned to the coffee machine and let his hands move in the familiar pattern. Three creams and three sugars. He put the insulated paper cup on the counter before he was fully aware of what he was doing. However, looking at the cup of coffee he had just prepared made heat creep up his neck. He froze, his hands still around the hot cup of coffee. The door swung shut and Haru wondered if Makoto had noticed yet, if he could somehow hide the cup of coffee.
“Good morning!” Makoto said from directly in front of Haru. He raised his eyes slowly to meet Makoto’s, the edges of which were crinkled in a smile. Haru attempted to smile back but mostly just attempted in looking slightly pained. Makoto’s smile faded a bit and he glanced down, saw the coffee cup, and then looked quickly back at Haru. Haru opened his mouth to offer some sort of explanation but couldn’t find anything.
“Uh,” Makoto said. Haru could see the question forming in his eyes.
“Sorry it was presumptuous to make your coffee before you ordered it. You could have ordered something else, or wanted it a different way, or… something,” Haru trailed off in confusion as Makoto broke into the widest smile Haru had seen on his face yet
“It’s fine!” Makoto said. “Thank you, I was going to order a coffee so it’s…” he smiled blindingly again. “It’s fine. It’s great. Thank you.” Haru looked down and pushed the coffee towards Makoto.
“Okay, good,” Haru said. He heard the clink of coins and looked up to see Makoto putting coins on the counter. Without thinking he reached out to stop him.
“No it’s fine,” Haru said and then stopped. He had reached too far, his fingertips were brushing the back of Makoto’s hand. His hand was warm, and soft, and Haru could feel the tendons and the slight movement and suddenly he couldn’t move. Makoto was just so _ real _ . So real and warm and _ living _ . Haru wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed before he snatched his hand away.
“I’m sorry!” he blurted. “I just meant it’s fine um… it’s my treat this time.” Haru could feel his face burning, he refused to meet Makoto’s eyes. The silence was deafening, and Haru had the sudden desire to crawl within himself and disappear, but instead he remained standing behind the counter, feeling more visible than he could ever remember feeling. After a second that seemed to Haru to last at least a day and a half Makoto picked the coins back up and slipped them into his pocket.
“Thanks,” he said, and it was so quiet Haru almost missed it. He looked up. Makoto looked a bit confused, and he was staring at the hand that Haru had touched. He glanced up at Haru, his mouth half open, and then, as if on impulse, reached his own hand back across the counter to where Haru’s had retreated. His fingers slipped into the spaces between Haru’s easily. His hand was strong. Haru gulped and looked down at their hands. He could feel his breath quicken. Makoto gave his fingers a slight squeeze.
“Thank you,” he repeated seriously, “thank you for the coffee. See you tomorrow!” Then he smiled and slipped his hand away. He grabbed his coffee and walked away, shooting another easy smile over his shoulder.
“Bye,” Haru managed as the door swung shut.
The rest of the morning was a daze, and when Haru finally had a moment to sit down he immediately felt his face burn red. He has held his hand. Makoto had _ held _ his _ hand. _ One side of Haru, the rational side, argued that it probably didn’t mean much. Makoto seemed like a pretty affectionate person, and he probably was just thanking Haru for the coffee. The other side of Haru was fixated on how strong and soft and large Makoto’s hand had been. How right his fingers had felt nestled between Haru’s. He spent a good two minutes just staring at his hand, feeling a ghost of the warmth Makoto’s hand had left. It was maybe two o’clock, and the lunch rush had just ended. Haru found himself with several hours of afternoon in which he had no orders to fill, and with a lull in customers he had nothing to do.
Haru was restless. He doodled on his yellow legal pad, finishing his previous sketch of Makoto’s glasses before trying to capture the dips and planes of Makoto’s knuckles. He gave up after a few minutes and went back into the kitchen. | 6b04f47f1efe46ddaebdafbde9d39ded | ['a8c892f54a4e416e8a6fbe61a926bd3d'] | Haru’s instructions to the natural history museum lacked any proper map, but a note at the top said ‘walking time: 20 mins. By car: 5 mins,’ so Makoto set off towards the museum. He was glad to be going to the museum, though he had wanted to ask Haru to join him. Not that he thought he would have the nerve, but as long as he hadn’t gone yet he could still imagine Haru showing him his favorite exhibits and maybe letting Makoto treat him to an ice cream afterwards. Well he could still talk with Haru about the museum, and maybe they could still go again some other time. A small voice in Makoto’s head whispered that even if he did have the guts to ask, which he didn’t, Haru probably wouldn’t want to go. Makoto ignored this voice and focused on following the directions printed on the yellow lined paper. At each corner he studied the landmarks and little doodles of trees in order to determine where to turn. There was only one street name on the map, and it was for the first turn after the bakery. Even without street names, the directions were surprisingly clear and Makoto reached the Natural History Museum without any problems.
He bought a ticket and began making his way through the exhibits. First he saw the mammals, weaving between the herbivores and pausing before a large display housing a ferocious looking tiger. Next he saw the birds, which were hung from the ceiling or posed on perches around the room. Their glass eyes were strangely piercing and Makoto found himself rather relieved to exit that particular exhibit. He ended up in an open area, the skeleton of a large sea creature suspended above him and several small food vendors along two of the walls. The tail of the suspended sea creature pointed towards the bird exhibit which he had just left, while the head seemed to be leading into a hallway with blue painted walls and smaller creatures displayed along them. He ventured down the blue halls, which lead to the aquatic animals exhibit, stopping to study small fish skeletons as he went.
The hall opened up into a larger room which housed prehistoric fish of every size, though quite a few were larger than a car and one seemed the length of a school bus. Makoto walked around the perimeter of the room, stopping to look at several dozen fish skeletons only as big as his pinky finger, arranged to look like they were swimming behind a thick pane of glass. He paused again to study a large illustration of a jellyfish, which was draw next to a human to show it’s size. The jellyfish was about three times as long as the person pictured next to it. Makoto swallowed slightly and moved quickly to the next exhibit.
At a few places around the room large doorways lead to smaller rooms that held exhibits on more specific animals. One room held an exhibit on ancient shellfish, one on stingrays, and the last on sharks. Makoto headed into the one on sharks, reading a few of the posters on the walls as he went. One poster detailed the physics behind what made sharks such powerful and effective hunters, another on several misconceptions people have about them. A large poster next to the entrance of the shark exhibit featured a passionate article about how endangered sharks were and what one could do to help save them.
Beyond the entrance to the exhibit a narrow hallway curved towards a small room. Makoto encountered only one person in the hallway, and when he entered the main room only saw a few. His eyes swept over the huge jaws held together by wires which adorned the first section of the wall to his right. Beside them was a table with a side-by-side comparison of the different tooth sizes of different species. Each tooth was accompanied by a small picture of the species it belonged to as well as an explanation of that species diet and why that particular tooth worked best. On the back wall, directly in the center, was a life-sized model of a shark, twisting in mid-air. The model looked fiercely powerful, yet at the same time held such grace.
Makoto found himself inching towards it, wanting a closer look. As he stepped around a table to get closer he noticed a figure he hadn’t seen before sitting in front of the shark model, sketching on a pad of paper. The figure’s head was bent forward, his legs crossed in front of him as a resting place for the drawing pad. Makoto found himself moving forward and his mouth moving before he had fully recognized the person sitting in front of him.
“Haru?” he breathed, more a question than a word. Haru looked up, surprised. He looked around and, upon seeing Makoto, scrambled to his feet, closing his sketchpad as he went. Makoto started stumbling over his words.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to surprise you, or to make you get up, I just didn’t expect…” Makoto trailed off. Haru was staring at him very intently, and didn’t break his stare as he took a step closer. Finally he spoke.
“You came?, I mean…” he looked down. “I just mean… you came to the museum. Not that… not that I… I was just surprised.” He looked up at Makoto.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”
“I just…” Haru glanced down at his feet and then back up. “I dunno, people think museums are boring. I thought you were just being nice when you said you would come.” Makoto felt a flash of sadness.
“I love museums,” he said gently.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Me too.” Haru smiled and Makoto was lost, grinning like an idiot. After a moment he spoke again.
“Were you drawing the shark?” |
f2b1413f453947858ff563e59d30f0fd | ['a8cc3a04ea0d45e68eae51c6f67ac655'] | Soul utters a platitude in return and reaches out for a hand to shake- but she grabs him and pulls him in for a hug before he gets a chance. Maka sniggers at his evident surprise.
"Uh." He starts, eloquently. "I'm sweaty," he excuses, realising that he must be disgusting from all that exercise. He looks down at himself, notices with a jolt that he's still dressed in his exercise gear- a slouchy grey t shirt and black shorts- and curses himself again for forgetting about today.
Maka sends him a sideways glance.
"How was basketball?" she asks, a little pointedly.
"Uh… good. Should I shower, or…?" he frowns at his meister, his gaze flitting between the two strong women with some modicum of terror.
Maka's mother gets a steely look in her eye. "I think that would be best." She says in a gravelly tone. His eyes flit to Maka who narrows hers and nods.
"Cool," he manages before practically breaking into a sprint towards the bathroom.
When he's gone, Maka and her mother share a look. Maka sniggers. "You've terrified him." she grins.
"I'm sorry, maybe that was a little mean. I couldn't resist!" Kami laughs. "My mother would have done something similar any time I brought a boy home."
"Did she do it with dad?" Maka asks idly. "When she found you were weapon partners?"
"Honey. She never _stopped_ doing it with your father, until the day she died." Kami's smile lessens. "I almost have to respect the abnormal amount of disdain she held for him." She shrugs, changing the subject. "Is he always so jumpy?" she jerks a thumb towards the way that Soul had rushed. "I always thought you'd partner with a strong weapon, someone who'll _protect_ you if you need it." She says seriously, a slight frown on her features.
The question takes Maka aback a little. "Oh! No, that's _definitely_ Soul." She pauses. "He's laid back. Until we get to battle, I guess. It's just that his family are… pretty frosty. He probably expected the same from you."
"He certainly looks the part, anyway." She adds, baring her teeth with a little giggle. When she receives a stern look from her daughter she raises her hands to her sides. "I'm sorry, sorry!" she laughs. "No, he's nice-looking."
Maka shrugs as if it couldn't possibly matter. But Kami notices how she blushes when he emerges again from the bathroom, his hair sopping wet and dressed in slightly cleaner clothes.
She clasps her hands together.
"I thought it could be nice to take a tour round the academy," she smiles widely. "I'd love to see how things have changed. And meet Lord Death's son, that should be a hoot."
Soul and Maka exchange glances. "He's a good friend of ours, actually." She says coyly. "I'm sure he'd love to meet you. Kid's really nice."
Kami smiles. "Great! Soul. Will you be joining us?"
"Uh…" his eyes flit to Maka, who tilts her head. "Yep."
The three of them end up driving in Kami's little Prius up the hill to the academy as Maka chatters away to her mother and Soul sits silently in the backseat, watching the city whiz by. He's not used to being in the backseat, he's used to being inside the wind; having it whistle through his hair and face. It's a little boring, if he's honest.
"Do you drive, Soul?" Kami asks, reading his thoughts.
"Yeah. Mostly my bike."
She glances at him through the rear mirror. "Oh. I've been on plenty of motorbikes before, when I was passing through Vietnam."
"You went to Vietnam?!" Maka exclaims, a tinge of excitement evident. "You have to tell me all about it, Ma-"
"Yes, yes. I will. Not the safest of vehicles, are they? I also saw plenty of accidents." She casts a frosty look at Soul again.
"Depends." He pauses. "I'm fully licensed, been driving for six years. I've yet to come off."
"Six years?"
"Lord Death let him have a license at thirteen, because it was the easiest way for us to get to missions. They've issued similar exceptions in the past." Maka explains.
"I know," Kami says, fixing her eyes back on the road. "Does Maka ever ride with you?" she asks. He wonders if this line of inquiry is going where he thinks it is, i.e. straight to hell.
"When she wants." He replies, choosing his words carefully.
"Is it safe for her?"
"Why wouldn't it be?"
"Presumably you have no other method of transport. Was my daughter forced to endanger herself on your motorbike?"
"Mom!" Maka exclaims, to little avail. "Soul _has_ a car…" she pouts.
Soul chuckles lowly. "I've never been very good at persuading Maka to do _anything_." He raises his arms. "And besides, motorcycles when ridden properly aren't much more dangerous than cars."
Kami still frowns. "And helmets…?"
"She wears mine."
"And yourself?"
He shrugs, reaching a bone of contention between the two of them. "No," he admits, running a loose hand through his hair.
Kami nods, her lips pressed into a firm line. Soul wonders if he's blown things with Maka's mother already, but she surprises him he spots a smile form on her face in the wing mirror. He relaxes just a modicum.
"What kind of mother would I be if I didn't at least make sure that she wasn't partnered up with some motorcycle-happy hooligan?"
Maka sends her mother a sidelong glance and rips little pieces of her fingernails off with worry. Soul shudders, albeit slightly relieved that she seemed to be at least somewhat satisfied by the conclusion.
The car shortly pulls up beside the main entrance to the academy and its inhabitants all pile out at once.
"Wow." Kami breathes, staring at the entrance. "It hasn't changed a bit."
"Really?" Maka asks. "I thought Kid had supposedly made all sorts of renovations… y'know, to make it more symmetrical and the like…" | 5c84244c42b64b2fbb6313929a026cf7 | ['a8cc3a04ea0d45e68eae51c6f67ac655'] | "Three weeks, he said." Maka shakes her head. "I don't want a new partner. We've been together since the beginning." She swears. "For fuck's sake, Soul, you were- _are_ \- my best friend. We're roommates. Not to mention- we argue all the time! Why the hell would something suddenly come between us like this?!"
_She must be really upset. She never usually swears._
He pretends not be hurt by her initial use of past tense. He doesn't tell her that he's pretty sure he knows what the problem is, that he figured it out months ago, and it's his fault- mostly because, because in spite of everything, he doesn't want her to hate him even more.
"I don't know." He says, partially truthfully. "I don't know why now."
Maka closes her eyes.
"Please, please. Please work with us. With me. We can get through this, I know it." She begs, and not for the first time. This time, it doesn't fall on deaf, unlistening, unbending ears. She stands up as she says it, and walks towards him, facing him, her head tilted up to meet his eyes. "If you really don't think I'm worth it, if you don't think our partnership is worth it, tell me now, and we can give up." She articulates herself valiantly through her increasingly tear-filled eyes. "Do you want to give up on me?" she repeats, her voice reducing down to the softest whisper.
_Godammit, why'd she have to say it like that?_
His arm reaches out without any sort of provocation or involvement from his brain whatsoever to touch her shoulder. His fingers weave absently between strands of her soft straw-colored hair, distractedly staring at the fibres between his thumb and forefinger and feeling her fast pulse against them.
She swallows and tries not to let the fact he's finally showing her his soft side reinstall a glimmer of hope inside her, as well as the word he says next.
"No." It comes out quiet and rough, cutting a thin slice through the palpable atmosphere between them.
_Of course he didn't._
He just wasn't sure if he had a choice.
3. Chapter 3
After three completely separate, failed attempts at different approaches to Resonating, including one in which Stein actually attempted to resonate with them _at the same time_ , the professor decides to change his tack, on account of Miss Marie's sage wisdom on the matter, and invites them down to his office to _talk it out._
Soul is disbelieving when he gets word of it from Spirit, of all people.
_When he called it group therapy, he had been being flippant._
They gather together in Dr Stein's dusty and neglected office, the three of them. The only light is supplied by the stir-crazy yellow of the eco-bulb that Miss Marie screwed in there in a vague and misplaced attempt to combat some of the dinginess caused by the lack of window. The lack of window itself owing to the fact that Dr Stein preferred to do most of his work in the relative peace and quiet of the Shibusen dungeons.
It didn't make for an overly pleasant mood-setter.
When Maka pictured _therapy_ in her mind, it conjured up visions of fraught women on chaise lounges, wearily discussing their failed marriages and cheating husbands, all the while an eager, over-familiar white-coat scrawled down notes on a sheet and nodded frantically before making drastic assumptions about his looney-toon patient.
When Soul did the same, it flooded back horrific memories of hours of his eleven-year-old self being locked in a tiny box room with some idiot academic with round glasses, and forced to discuss his odd, dissonant music; about his brother; about his relationship with his parents; and how being a demon weapon made him _feel_. All at the behest of his parents, of course, and their total lack of understanding or acceptance of any of the choices he'd made in life.
Of the two of them, Soul's conjuring of events is probably more akin to this situation.
"Apologies for the location," Dr Stein grimaces, in response to their obvious matching disdain. "I've been informed that students don't enjoy this kind of environment very much." He clarifies, but doesn't offer any sort of alternative arrangement, so Maka makes herself as comfortable as possible on a hard, plastic chair.
"Good acoustics down here," Soul comments idly, gaze creeping up the mouldy old high ceilings in somewhat feigned interest.
Maka's eyes hurt from trying so hard not to roll them at his inanity.
Dr Stein clasps his hands together and motions for Soul to take a seat next to his meister. He does so, if a little hesitantly.
"Evans. Albarn. I thought we'd have a little interlude into previous sessions with a little sharing exercise. It's become rather overt to me that the two of you are… having rather a lot of arguments as of late."
_It took three hours-long evenings in a row to figure that out?_
He glances at his two subjects, eyes flitting between them and clears his throat out of desire for effect rather than any outstanding phlegm. "As you can both probably guess, Resonance problems are almost always caused by an internal issue, as opposed to an external factor." A little psychotic smile forms on his face, sending a chill down Soul's spine. "First things first." He coughs again. "Starting with you, Albarn. What are your current problems with Soul?"
Maka seems utterly taken aback by this question. Soul barks a surprised laugh, bitterly thinking to himself that perhaps she simply doesn't know how far down the line to start.
She rushes to clarify things.
"As a partner?"
"As anything." The doctor replies, seriously. "Pretend he's not here. Tell me what's wrong with him. Don't miss off a thing. And don't hold back, remember, the point of this exercise is to _help_ you communicate better." |
b11b7a7e2c49400d9d6ec4ed21eded9e | ['a8e20f9fac254924b588bbc86ef7e16d'] | I pursed my lips thoughtfully, trying to believe that I was different. It hadn't felt like I was the night before, when I was nervous and wishing Harry would kiss me. Then, it had felt like I was the same as before, the Layla who'd let both Harry and Will walk all over her. I was scared of becoming her again, she'd been unhappy and a shell of a person, she'd let people swallow up who she was. It had been a long, painful few years of discovering who I was until I had the freedom to be me, without someone mocking me, or being swallowed up by my pain and angst.
Rose let out a tiny, dainty belch, groaned at the nausea, and continued. "All you have to do, and I know you want to, despite how terrified you look, is hear him out. Talk over what happened, and maybe you two will have a shot because… Ugh! I'm loathed to say it, but maybe if I do you'll realise I'm serious when I tell you to not be so worried. He really fucking loves you, Lil, like _really_ loves you."
"Not to sound cheesy, but is that enough?" I asked, surprised Rose was encouraging me to even consider being with Harry again. “There’s all the trus-”
"I'm too hungover for this." She whined.
"I know, I'm sorry. You're right! I should just go talk with him and see where it goes."
“That’s the spirit, bird! As for Joel, I know you feel guilty, but you should stop. I love Joel, I loved you two as a couple, and I miss him being around. The problem was, and I hate that Will spotted this before me, you just weren’t in love with him. You’re not wrong for feeling that way, Lil, you can’t choose who you fall in love with, you know that. I promise you, that I wouldn't have allowed anything with Harry to go ahead if one, you’d stayed with Joel, or two, you had said to me that you had zero interest in seeing Harry again.”
Relaxing my shoulders, I let what she was saying sink in. I had worried about Joel and if maybe his mentioning Harry wasn’t an accident, but I trusted Rose one hundred percent. And I believed her fully when she told me that Harry’s party would not have happened -or rather I wouldn’t have been invited- if I had no desire to see Harry because I was crazy in love with Joel. I had wanted to be in love with Joel, but I wasn’t.
I chuckled, “I hate that for a man who barely acted like he could stand me for so long, Will does know me freakishly well.”
“Honestly! He’s a better husband to you now than when you were married.” She smiled and clapped her hands together before rubbing her tummy as it let out an angry growl. "Now! As you were late, you can go get that coffee and breakfast you owe me. Thank you!"
**°**
I left work just after three, giving me plenty of time to get home and get ready without stressing too much over being late. The hangover had eased, but the nervous apprehension was almost too much as I drove home, and every time I caught sight of the large bouquet of pink roses in the passenger seat, my stomach would lurch.
Harry had sent the flowers to the office with a note which read:
_'Lil, can't wait to see you, love, H x'_
They had caused quite a stir, and I was bombarded with questions and speculations over who the mysterious 'H' could be. I was amazed that, although they’d all known Rose and I were attending a party my ex-husband was throwing for Harry Styles, not one of them had guessed that maybe Harry had sent me flowers. I was even more amazed to find out that Rose had gone rogue, on a solo mission to organise it, and hadn't told any of the staff it was happening.
I had a passing thought that maybe they didn’t think Harry would be interested in a woman like me, but then I told my negative voice to shut up. I no longer suppressed my feelings and emotions, but I actively suppressed the voice that told me I wasn’t good enough. I knew for certain that Harry had once been interested in me, very interested, and from the way he’d been with me the previous night, I suspected he still was. He might have dated literal supermodels who were tall and thin and had beautiful faces, but Harry had also dated me. I didn’t need to put myself down, or compare myself. I was just as good as they were.
I had been thinking about how proud my therapist would be, when Rose had given me a little nudge and a wink, like the bunch of flowers were a proposal of marriage. I knew they weren't quite that, but I liked that Harry seemed to understand that the pink roses meant something between us. I’d blocked Harry out of my life, but I had adopted the flower as a reminder of my self-worth on days when I felt like giving up. They had become my symbol of a happiness I could feel and was deserving of. The fact Harry seemed to remember what flowers he'd given me for my thirtieth birthday gave me hope that we’d really had something truly special.
31. I've Seen That Movie Too
As promised, the restaurant Harry had chosen was quiet. It was also incredibly romantic. Located on a cobbled side street, I walked in from the cold, dark, February evening, and discovered it wasn’t much brighter inside. The lighting, music, even the conversation of the other diners, were all low and soft. It was cozy and inviting, and certainly set a mood. | 7cffe986eb4e413db20f768adc4d53a4 | ['a8e20f9fac254924b588bbc86ef7e16d'] | He rubbed his heel and I moved closer to the door. We stared at each other in disbelief. I was shocked I’d truly had the strength to stand up for myself, and he was shocked as he realised had I not pushed him away, he’d have really hurt me. The mood in the room was tense, but it was a different sort of tenseness compared to only minutes before. Neither of us were angry anymore — we were just both so stunned by the level we despised each other. Dislike had run between us since we’d gone to dinner at The Ivy. We’d been patching any leaks, but now the dam had burst and hatred flowed freely.
Mumbling, I placed my hand on the painful throbbing where he’d grabbed me, and fought against the weakness in my knees, “I’m going to Rose’s.”
Open-mouthed, Will looked like he was going to try stop me, but instead he just nodded, and I left.
I played the car radio loud to distract me from crying. I didn’t head to Rose’s straight away like I’d said. She was at work, but even if she’d been home, I didn’t want her to see as I dealt with what had just happened. So I drove around aimlessly in the rain until the shock faded.
When I felt the odd numbness that shock brings start to slip away, and the weight in my stomach start to travel up my chest ready to emerge as a sob, I drove to her flat. I could let myself in — I had a key and she wouldn’t mind, but I couldn’t find the will to move from my seat. Instead, I turned the engine off so the only light was just a faint orange glow from the lamppost overhead, and the only sound was rain hammering the car. It would be hours before Rose got home, and though I didn’t want to break down in front of her, I also didn’t want to sit in her flat by myself.
I was getting cold, wearing only leggings, a shirt, and a hoodie. My sockless toes were starting to feel numb. Sense in the distance told me to get out of the car, go inside, take a shower, and try sleep before Rose got home. Once I slept, I’d be able to see things clearer and remind myself that I hadn’t been in the wrong. Will and I had been fighting because I wanted to get some sort of life back outside of charity lunches and looking forward to the odd romp with my lover.
My stomach twinged as I thought of Harry, and I realised he was the reason I was struggling to find somewhere to go. Sat outside the safest place I had, I didn’t want to go in because all I wanted was the person I was furious with. His actions had hurt me, and even as I longed for him, I felt sick when I remembered those pictures of him having dinner with someone so… unlike me.
With a frustrated groan, I grabbed my phone from my bag and searched for who I knew was the last person I should call. He probably wouldn’t even answer — he’d changed his number and I was certain I probably hadn’t been meant to get his new one, but Harry was the only person I wanted to see.
It rang and rang and rang. Picturing him staring aghast at his phone, I was about to give up when the rings fell silent and after a pause, I heard Harry answer, “Layla?”
My free hand gripped the wheel, knuckles turning white while I tried to form words. Hearing him say my name always threw me. I’d heard him say it in so many tones, from moaning it in ecstasy to groaning it in anger, but the way he’d said it then was new and I couldn’t decide if it was good or bad. As if he’d been waiting for my call and now, he was finally having to face the music.
“Hi,” I breathed, “Can you... Can you talk?”
Harry paused again, and I wondered if he was with her. If maybe he’d been in bed with her and he’d taken so long to answer because he’d had to get up and leave the room. Telling her as she stretched her long limbs and asked him to come back to bed that he had to answer the call, then he’d be back to do all the things he’d done with me. The images I’d been torturing myself with in the week since I’d found out about them spooled past my vision across the windscreen like some nightmarish drive-in, and I almost hung up.
“Of course, I just got home.” As if realising what the question had implied, he added quickly, “I’m alone.”
“Okay.”
Suddenly, I didn’t know what to do or what I wanted. I’d remained strong in Will’s attack, but now the words of what a piece of shit I’d always be were ringing in my head, and I was slowly convincing myself that Harry didn’t want to talk to me. He was waiting until it was polite to say he had to go, that it was late and he had to be up early, that he had another call, or that his house was on fire.
“Did you want to meet?” He spoke so quietly, and my thoughts were so loud, I almost missed his question. “You can come here? Or I can book—”
“No.”
“Oh.”
“No, I mean, I want to meet you. But I don’t want to go anywhere. I can’t risk being seen and I… I left the house in a hurry.” |
7ee44a75abbb4fda9806e4f5d766e386 | ['a8f2135f1e2f4607afc5393f0fd56ccd'] | Chase grumbled when it went to voicemail and tried the other Septics. Several voicemail boxes later and Chase wanted so much to yell out his frustrations. His ears, fingers, and toes hurt from the cold but he didn't want to get in the car until he had done all he could. He tried one more number, Henrik's office number. It was only for emergencies and Chase figured stuck on the road in a blizzard counted for an emergency.
"Dr. Henrik Schneeplestein's office. This is Linda speaking how can I help you?"
Chase let out a big sigh of relief, "Hey this is Chase Brody calling. I'm uh a family member of Dr. Schneeplestein's. Can I speak with him?"
"I'm sorry Dr. Schneeplestein is in a surgery right now. Can I give him a message?"
Chase's shoulders slumped, "No that's ok. If he's in surgery he'll be awhile. I'm stuck on the side of the road and was hoping he could send help."
"Oh no and in such horrible weather! Let me get you the number of the emergency road service. I'll bet they have a bunch of guys out tonight."
Hope filled Chase, "Please! I'd be so grateful!"
Few minutes later he was finally back inside the car with his kids, though with not as good of news as he was hoping.
A _minimum_ of an hour before the emergency vehicles could get to them. Turns out there were several other people stuck and it was going to take time to reach them. Chase had pleaded with them saying he had his two kids in the car which got him bumped up the list in terms of priority but he wasn't the only one that was stuck with kids. They were just going to have to sit tight.
To make matters worse the temperature had dropped quite a bit in the car alread. Chase could see his kids were obviously cold as he climbed into the backseat with them and pulled them close to him, trying to give them what body heat he had.
"Well kiddos looks like we're in for a bit of a wait. We've got help coming but there's others out there stuck too." Chase explained as he rubbed their arms, grateful they had warm hats and scarves.
"So we have to wait our turn right, dad?" Gray asked, he and Sammy huddling as close as possible to their dad.
Chase smiled at his son, "That's right. So tell me how school's been going. What have you guys been learning?"
Minutes ticked by slowly as Chase tried to keep his kids distracted by asking questions and if he was being honest, distracting himself too. The car rocked as wind buffeted it, the temperature dropping more and more with each gust that blew through the creases in the old car. His muscles ached, he guessed from how badly he was shivering. It was getting harder to rub his hands up and down his kids arms so he opted for holding them in his lap instead as best he could. He had a ratty old blanket on the floor that wasn't big enough for him but it wrapped comfortably around his kids, giving them extra warmth.
"So Gr..Gray ha..have y...y...you unlocked ev...every....one in....Sm...smash...bro..thers?" Chase asked through chattering teeth.
He didn't understand why they looked at him confused.
"Y..yea, dad. I..I.to..told you ab..bout it r..re..mem..ber?"
"O...oh...r...ri...right."
"Y..y..you..ok..d.dad?" Sammy struggled out.
Chase hugged his kids tightly to him. He didn't like them shivering. Why was it so cold?
"I...a...am...fi..fi..fine."
He slowly moved his aching arm to his phone on the car seat. Numb fingers struggled with the device before it finally lit up.
Huh that's weird. His fingers almost looked blue.
Chase shook his head to try and clear it. It was like a fog had settled over his thoughts. Almost like when he drank too much.
His eyes flickered to the battery gauge, 3% glaring back at him in the darkness. Suddenly his phone's provider logo appeared then the phone went black. Chase frowned as he forced his numb fingers to press buttons and make it light up again only for it to remain stubbornly dark.
"W...w...why?"
"I.it's de..dead, d..dad." Sammy seemed concerned.
His little girl shouldn't be concerned about anything. She was too young and...and so precious to him. Gray too. God he loved his kids so much but he was such a terrible father. They were suffering and he couldn't stop it.
"D..dad? W..why are y..you cry...ing?"
God his kids' teeth were still chattering. And he...he was actually warm. Almost too warm. Why was he so warm?
Chase shuffled in his seat, slowly peeling off his coat and wrapping it around his kids, "I...i....it's...o..o.ok. Te...te..te..ll m..me mo..re a...ab...bout..sc...sch..ool."
He hugged his kids again, hoping to transfer his new warmth to them, their voices trickling through his ears.
He wondered if they would hate him after this. Would they hate him for not taking better care of them? For not having a better car? For not getting them home safely by now?
"...d? Da..?"
Stacy would hate him. Not that she didn't hate him already. He didn't blame her. She was right. He was a failure.
"...ad?!"
He would make it up to them. He had to. He'd do anything to show how sorry he was. That he would try harder. Be better.
"...addy?!?"
His thoughts were surprisingly loud for how foggy he felt. Like sirens almost.
"...ir? Can....ou....ar...me?"
Why was he floating? Why is there a light in his eyes? Where are his kids?
"Gr'y....? S'mmy....?"
Darkness enveloping him was the only response he received.
* * *
Henrik let out a weary sigh as he grabbed a new cup of coffee. It had been a long day and he still had several hours to go.
"How'd the surgery go?" A young nurse, Jesse, asked as she waited for her turn at the coffee machine. | da075f2636494927a146b868c2e21f06 | ['a8f2135f1e2f4607afc5393f0fd56ccd'] |
Incoming Storm
_"Let's look at an overview of the incoming winter storm. This evening we're looking at heavy snow, anywhere from 6 to 12 inches of snow and very powerful winds pushing that temperature dangerously low."_ The local weatherman was quite serious this evening, quite outside the norm of his usual cheerful attitude.
Chase gave a grimace as the man continued to go on about this storm moving into the area in a couple hours. It sounded like a nasty storm and he was the only one home. JJ was volunteering at Henrik's hospital while Jackie was out most likely at the shelters helping them prepare for the storm and all three would most likely not return until the morning. Marvin, Jack, and Anti were all out of town for a couple weeks so that just left him to weather out the storm in the abnormally quiet Septic house.
The single father sighed before taking a drink of his whiskey as he changed the channel. The one nice thing about being home alone is he could drink in peace without the doctor's lecture or JJ's pitying look. He wasn't drinking as much as he had right after the divorce! Besides it was cold in the house and alcohol was used to keep people warm right? Though he vaguely recalled Henrik lecturing him about drinking myths and that _may_ have been one of them. Something about constricting blood flow to protect organs?
Oh well didn't matter, he wasn't going outside anyway. So there was nothing wrong with him having a drink tonight.
_Bzzzt bzzzt_
_Bzzzt bzzzt_
A half hour and a couple of drinks into the night Chase's TV watching is interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. His eyes widen when he sees Stacy on the caller ID and quickly answers the phone.
"Stacy?"
"Hey I need you to come get the kids. My parents are worried about this storm so I'm going to their place until it blows over."
"Oh uhh" Chase hesitated as he looked out the window, seeing the snowflakes already falling from the night sky.
"Is that a problem?"
"No! No I can come get them no problem. I'm leaving right now, should be there in 30 minutes."
"Good." _Click_
Chase stared at his phone before shaking himself out of it and grabbing his heavy coat and shoved his sock clad feet into his sandals, not bothering to look for better shoes in his hurry. He really wished Stacy had called a bit sooner but still he was happy he would get to see his kids early so he guessed he shouldn't complain. If he hurried he could get the kids back home before the storm hit if the weatherman was right. Which was good cause Chase's car wasn't really a great vehicle for winter storms. It was a reliable little thing but he knew no vehicle should really be out in winter storms.
Bitter cold wind bit at his skin as he jogged to his vehicle. It took a bit of tugging on the already freezing shut door before Chase could climb inside and start the car, sitting for a moment while the vehicle warmed up. He searched for his gloves while waiting only to curse when he remembered he loaned them to Jackie when the hero's pair were ruined during a patrol. Oh well it wasn't like he was going out in the storm except to get the kids in the car then into his house.
Feeling satisfied the car had sat long enough, Chase carefully made his way out of the driveway and towards Stacy's place, his headlights shining off the snowflakes as they fell.
About ten minutes into the drive and the snow was already coming down harder accompanied by pings of ice bouncing off his car. Chase was glad there didn't seem to be anyone else out on the road with the storm moving in faster than anticipated. By the time he pulled into Stacy's driveway snow was coating the ground and ice was forming on the sidewalks, making it difficult to traverse.
Stacy had apparently been watching for him as she opened the door before he could even knock and his kids jumped into his arms, already bundled up in their winter wear.
"Daddy!" His kids cried as he hugged them tight.
"Hey kiddos! You ready to come stay with dad tonight?"
He grinned at their immediate "Yea!" and looked around for their bags while ushering them into the car.
"Where's their stuff?" He asked Stacy who was gathering her own stuff. He could hear her SUV rumbling in the garage so he knew she was anxious to leave.
"They're only staying the night with you they don't need them. You have stuff for them at your place right?" Stacy replied impatiently while searching for something in her purse.
"Err yea, yea ok." Chase watched her dig through her purse, unsure if he should leave yet.
"Ugh where are my keys?!" Stacy yelled after a minute of digging.
"Um...well it sounds like they could be in your car?" Chase said carefully.
Stacy grunted and turned to go back in the house, "Right. I'll call you when I'm coming to get the kids."
"Alright. Bye Stacy."
A closed door is all that answered him.
Chase stared at the door for a moment before a particularly cold gust of wind rocked him and he quickly climbed back in his warm car.
"Alright little dude and dudette, you guys have your seatbelts on?"
"Yea!" Sammy and Gray replied.
"Hey dad guess what!" Gray immediately said, bouncing in his seat.
Chase glanced up at him through the rearview mirror as he slowly pulled out onto the road, "What's up little dude?"
"You have to guess!" Gray insisted. |
1f5aa97935ee46cd8a2601d5d9f5c30e | ['a8fc732e617349fd875d35195504d73c'] | Your mother reached over the food laid out on the table to put her hand over yours, lips thin.
That was all it took for you to break. You clutched your mother's hand and sucked in a heavy sob.
Your father came around the table to wrap a sturdy arm around your frame, shushing you with a soft voice and regretful eyes.
“Shh, it's alright pumpkin. It's gonna be alright.”
“I'm so sorry, (Your Name).” Your mum chimed in as she squeezed your hand. “I'm so, so sorry.”
You understood what they were trying to do, understood that their words were meant to comfort you, but they only fueled your feelings of guilt and self-hatred. Your parents thought you were crying over a tangible person, the death of a human. What did you ever do to deserve such comfort? You were just selfish.
“Is there anything we can do for you, sweetheart?” Your father asked, hand smoothing your hair back.
You shook your head. “Peter texted me. He said he wanted to come over. Stay the night with me,” you murmured.
Your mother nodded. “That’s a good idea.”
You gave your parents a wobbly smile and excused yourself from dinner. Your stomach was in knots and the idea of eating made you feel slightly nauseous. Returning to your room, you wrapped yourself in a blanket and settled onto your bed to stare at the wall. An hour later, that was how Peter found you.
The two of you spoke in soft tones late into the evening, talking about the “could have beens” and “never wills" before your bodies started protesting being awake any longer and you both turned in for the night, Peter tucking himself away on the opposite side of your bed.
Despite his reassurances and comforting presence, you couldn't help the staggering sense of loss you felt. You no longer had a soulmate. You asserted this to yourself as you settled in on your own side of the bed for the night; you were resigned to this fact.
But then something extraordinary happened. Your Words reappeared.
3. Chapter 3
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> I am so psyched to share this chapter with you guys, mostly because I'm dying to know who you guys think Peter's soulmate is. I'd love to hear your guesses! You'll be finding out soon.
>
> A big thank you to **TreacherousThoughts, cannibalisticshadows, Faerieofdreams, AshQueen1823, Can_you_be_my_symphony_snow, Dear_Mary72, Dawlee,** and **RedKitty0X** for their messages! Your comments mean so much to me, I check every day to see if anyone left a comment and my heart bursts when I see stuff in my inbox. A special shout out to **cannibalisticshadows** who realized that the Reader got her Words when she did due to Wade going through Weapon X. Nice catch! ;)
>
> Also, side note: I think this story is going to have closer to 20 chapters now, but we'll see.
Another beautiful day greeted you when you awoke the next morning as if to directly oppose your tumultuous emotions of the previous evening. A night of rest had done you some good, but you still felt a melancholic cloud hanging over you as your groggy mind fought to regain consciousness.
A noisy yawn from underneath the mountain of blankets next to you arrested your attention and you raised an eyebrow at what you were somewhat certain was Peter's general direction. The corner of your mouth tried to tug itself into a grin as grumbles could be heard from beneath the sea of cotton. Lithe but toned arms stretched out from underneath the blankets accompanied by a grunt before a tousled head of hair popped out and a bright pair of eyes met yours.
“Mm, how ya feeling?” Peter asked, voice still rough from sleep.
“Better,” you replied, sitting up in bed. “Thanks for staying over with me.”
Peter wrapped his arms tightly around you, trapping your own arms in his grip and dragged you back down next to him. You shot him a look but allowed him to hold you against his chest before he relaxed his arms and you were able to lay more comfortably with him.
“Any time.”
Peter had been your best friend since high school when you had first bonded over a lack of soul marks. Peter eventually received his during a particularly weird time in his life (and very frustrating on your end- he suddenly became so flaky!) nearly two years ago. His Words, _‘it’s you’,_ were scrawled across his own wrist. You had been so happy for him, the utter delight on his face when he showed you his Words made you feel at once proud and a little left behind. The two of you stayed up late many nights when those Words first appeared, speculating on the circumstance of his first meeting with his soulmate. Peter had not yet found his soulmate, but he reassured you that he was in no hurry to do so, anyway.
Things just made sense with Peter, and it was easy being close and sharing your secrets and worries with one another. Growing up, your parents were concerned over how physical the two of you were with each other, but as time passed they seemed to accept that it was just a facet of your relationship. Peter was like an especially close brother. In fact, the two of you often joked about being soulmates. After all, the world proved time and time again that soulmates didn't have to be romantic partners.
You turned your face into his shoulder and sighed against his neck, carding a few fingers through his hair. You missed how his brows furrowed at your wrist but when his hand snapped to grab it you looked up, confused.
“(Your Name)!” Peter gestured to your wrist, head tilting to try to make out the Words that were angled away from him. He laughed abruptly. | d9bae9557ed349439f9649440ca9eda7 | ['a8fc732e617349fd875d35195504d73c'] | “Is this about the super secret project I'm not allowed to know about?” You asked the men before you.
“Yup.” Tony replied, popping the ‘p’ at the end.
“Okay, enough with the nerd stuff, this isn't a Ted Talk.” The man's eyes flickered back to you. “I'm Scott. Nice to meet you.” He offered you his hand and you accepted it, giving it a friendly shake.
“(Your name).”
“Damn.” Scott tsked. He gestured to the writing on your wrist: _‘God, I thought they’d never leave.’_ Your Words had changed just last night. “I was hoping.”
You opened your mouth to respond but J.A.R.V.I.S.’ modulated voice broke in.
“Mr. Stark, please be advised that a Code Red is currently in effec-" The computerized voice of Tony’s AI broke off suddenly. Before you could wonder what had happened, Tony's face clouded over with anger and Peter groaned into his hands.
“What's a Code Red?” Scott asked. Tony ignored him.
“God _damn it._ ” The billionaire cursed. “I'm gonna find him. And then I'm gonna kill him.” Without another word, Tony turned on his heel and stormed back down the hall toward some unknown target. A target you already felt very sorry for.
Scott winced. “I'm gonna go make sure he doesn't bite anyone's head off.” He took off after Tony only to spin around and offer a quick shout. “It was nice to meet you!”
You and Peter watched as the two men disappeared around a corner.
“So, Scott's a… co-worker?” You guessed. He seemed like the friendly sort, you thought. You wouldn't mind seeing him around again.
Peter hummed. “Sorta. He works with Tony, with Iron Man. He's Ant-Man.”
You nearly had an aneurysm. You had just met another superhero and you hadn't even realized it!
“God, I thought they'd never leave.” A new voice commented.
You made a face and turned to see Wade standing between you and Peter in his usual suit, arms crossed over his broad chest.
Peter turned a frown on the man. “Wa-”
“Wait, are _you_ Code Red?!” You asked, putting the pieces together.
Wade smiled proudly at you.
Peter cleared his throat pointedly and you both looked to him. He shot you a dirty look before turning his attention to the mercenary. “Wade. Tony really hates it when you screw around with J.A.R.V.I.S.’ security system.” As much as you adored Peter, he was a little too good at affecting the disappointed father tone.
Wade jutted out his lip in a pout. “Yeah, well, he can fuck me- _I mean fight me!_ Well.” Wade paused, and you bit your tongue to keep yourself from laughing. “If that wasn't the freudianest little slip that there ever was.”
You burst into laughter. “Fuck. You are _ridiculous._ ”
Wade preened. “I like how you said that like it was a compliment.”
“It _was_ a compliment.”
Peter raised his eyes to the heavens and took a long, deep breath.
Wade giggled. “But seriously, fuck Stark. He's such a narcissist.”
You hesitated. “Well, you're not wrong but…” You spared a glance to Peter who looked like he wanted to protest.
“You guys don't know Tony like I do. I'll admit that he's a bit full of himself-”
“A bit?!” Wade interrupted.
Peter ignored him.
“But he has an remarkable proclivity for sacrifice. He's generous and pig-headed and surly and loyal.” Peter leaned against the wall behind him, smiling fondly. “He's really amazing.”
Wade appeared to assess the younger man carefully before he seemed to come to a conclusion. “I ship it.”
Peter looked startled. “W-what?”
You and Wade wore twin expressions of entertainment and Peter opened his mouth to comment before he seemed to change his mind.
“What are you doing here anyway?”
Wade shrugged a shoulder and peered down the hall where Tony and Scott had retreated. “I'm meeting hawk guy and the Ant-Man for a mission briefing.”
A grin pulled at your lips. “I don't think it's _the_ Ant-Man. I think it's just Ant-Man.” You considered it for a moment. “And it's definitely not ‘hawk guy’."
Peter nodded and Wade blew a raspberry at you two.
“Aw, who cares?”
The younger man huffed. “Wade,” he admonished. “If you're gonna work with someone you should at least get their names right.”
“Oh! Maybe that's why they don't like me? I just assumed they weren't comfortable with their sexuality.” Wade sent a wink at Peter and you laughed.
“Their loss, eh?” You replied.
Wade threw a casual arm around Peter's shoulder and nuzzled his face into the crook of your friend's neck. Peter shoved at him irritatedly. “Petey’s the only one that really puts up with me. Hah. What a goof."
You didn't realize that you'd had a large smile on your face for the entirety of the conversation until it fell at Wade’s comment.
“Is that why Tony doesn't seem to be your biggest fan?" You asked. "You call him by the wrong name or something?”
“No,” Peter scoffed. “I think that has more to do with the fact that Wade keeps breaching his security systems instead of just using the front door like a normal person.”
Wade hung off of Peter like a child despite being the taller of the two and you couldn't help your returning smile.
“They won't let me in the front door anymore.”
You sent the merc a curious look to which he replied.
“You blow up _one_ city block and suddenly you're public enemy number one!”
Your mouth fell open. Peter looked slightly ill, as though he were reliving the event in his memories.
Wade nodded. “Yeah, daddy issues doesn't like me much, but then none of the Avengers do.” The large man peeled himself off of Peter to tower over you once more with a particularly heart-clenching frown. “Ya know one time Captain America called me a lost cause. The dude fought, like, Hitler or something! There's no freaking way that boy scout is wrong.” |
b46d52984c424dc28e7c96b7f7646e29 | ['a908043153be4e028bc8f7d05f920d50'] | Harry's hand shot down to Louis' hair, clenching it until his knuckles turned white and connecting the dots to the previous dialogue somewhere in the more sane part of his mind. Louis' gaze was intimidating and powerful and _fucking hot_ and loving and soft and blissfully overwhelming with each bob of his head, the somehow seductive sounds of spit cuppled with the visuals of hollowed cheeks and swollen lips. When Louis momentarily released Harry's dick from his mouth with a gasp of air, a string of saliva still connected from his lips, Harry damn near lost it. Breathy whimpers transformed into lewd moans and strained hiccups, which seemed to spark something in Louis, who picked up the pace and hummed against the length with a cocky look in his eyes. It took every ounce of willpower for him to not thrust his hips into the warmth, in fact going the opposite direction and shoving his hips into the springs of the mattress. Louis countered each time Harry would shift, keeping the entire dick in his mouth and keeping the imagery nice and astounding until Harry was tugging on his hair and kicking out his legs with tears in his eyes and a whine in his mewls. The green-eyed boy felt heat building in his stomach along the burn in his legs and hands, absolutely choking him and forcing his hips to rock back and forth into Louis' mouth. His eyes clenched shut with the begging for Louis to keep going and not stopping and please, please, please. It almost felt like some relief was finally coming back to his fogged body when he began begging, "Off, off, off, off," like it was a prayer. Louis pulled off for good with a sloppy 'pop' and a smile. While it was a brilliantly perfect sight- Louis wiping his mouth with the back of his hand- Harry just couldn't stop the needy whine that forced its way from his lips with the disconnect.
Louis sat, patiently, with his hands folded over his crotch, smiling at down at Harry as he tried to force himself away from subspace and form real words for actual sentences. Then, whether it be from pity or a lack of will, he placed hundreds of soft kisses around the boy's until some conscious came into his pupils. And, as soon as there was coherent thought, Louis ripped it away by attacking Harry's neck with soft bites and suckles, nuzzling into his neck as Harry stroked through the chestnut locks, "Tell me what you want me to do to you, Harry," he whispered against the shell of his ear before pressing his lips back to the innocent skin of the neck, right hand reaching around Harry's dick and giving agonizing, slow strokes. One particularly hard bite extracted a cry from Harry and a sharp inhale from Louis, both rolling their hips against each other.
"Fuck me," Harry begged, reaching out to Louis as he pulled away and began working the belt around his jeans.
"Reach into the nightstand; there's a tube and a little packet. Grab them for me?" Louis asked, throwing his pants and boxers into bedroom abyss. And Harry was absolutely thrilled that the lights were shut off, because if Louis had seen him staring, and the way his face flushed at the exposing of his cock- hard and different from what he assumed it would be in every fantasy of this he had ever had-he would probably have to die. He didn't even look away when he felt around for the tube and packet, handing them to Louis without even thinking of what they were until he heard the pop of a lid.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Harry asked, sitting up on his elbows.
"The fuck you mean what am I doing?" Louis asked, stopping his motions and simply holding the bottle vertically in his hand.
"What's that for?"
"I believe I just heard someone beg me to fuck them," the blue-eyed boy laughed, clicking the bottle closed and unknowingly make Harry's heart slip toward his throat.
Yes, Harry had said that. He couldn't deny it. It was out there, "W-Well, I-" It was just that he didn't have a clue about sex it general, let alone gay sex. It was only recently that school had even opened up to the idea-and even then they didn't explain anything, "I mean, I jus-" he stuttered again, frustrated that he had allowed himself to look like the biggest idiot in the world to the naked man on top of him.
"Listen to me, then," Louis spoke as soft and comforting as Harry remembered, placing a freezing hand to the younger boy's flushed cheek, "You trust me, don't you?" to which Harry nodded furiously, almost like he was concerned Louis had forgotten that, "If you feel uncomfortable or in too much pain, you'll tell me. It will help tons if you relax as much as possible. Things will feel proper weird for a bit, but if you give it some time, it'll be the best thing you've felt in your life. Yeah?" Harry nodded, face finally cooling down against Louis' soothing touch, "Good. We can mess with this shit later," Louis chuckled, tossing the bottle of lube somewhere against the bed so Harry could feel and hear the bounce, "Lick," He held three fingers in front of Harry's face. The green-eyed boy didn't question it as he took the fingers in his mouth, wrapping his tongue around the digits as seductively as he could despite having a mental meltdown. When he could feel the spit nearly dribble down his chin, he released and let Louis pull away. Louis pushed Harry back, gently off his elbows and back into the pillow, capturing his lips as he pressed one finger into the boy's tight hole. | bd8bd3632f7b4d6ea265e7eb144186eb | ['a908043153be4e028bc8f7d05f920d50'] |
The Late Blooming 'Mine' Phase
**Author's Note:**
> Might want to read the first part of this series if you want a bit more understanding! Enjoy~
Water splashed out of the blue, plastic pool Anne had set up in their backyard, working the water hose for thirty minutes before Harry and Niall awoke to a very heated day. When the Twin Terrors, as Anne so correctly named them, finally did wake, they screamed at the sight of the ocean of water sitting where it never had before. Only moments after, the first graders-well,technically second graders as it was Summer- were screaming for Gemma to help them into their swim trunks, to which she happily obliged despite how she knew Niall would be boucing off the walls with excitement.
Then, it was the sound of feet pounding down the steps as the boys tripped over one another, fighting about who got to splash around first, and who would be the one to shove Gemma in! They decided Harry got to go in first, and Niall would push Gemma- they shared that way. They had been been friends since Kindergarten, which was, like, a whole year ago, which was, like, **forever** ago- so they had learned a thing or two about sharing with each other. So, while Gemma kept the two munchkins entertained, Anne waited by each tick of the clock for Harry's other surprise to arrive.
To which, he did, two friends in tote just in case he stood on the toes of boredom. Anne knew them well, the darker skinned one was Zayn, Niall's Big Buddy and close friend. Zayn was a sweetheart who cared about his family more than anyone, and was very, VERY, good with children, which made him an easy call when Anne was just too tired to put up with Harry's hyperactivity. The one with the mop of light brown curls was Liam, a shy boy who she secretly learned, properly enjoyed cuddles. He was in Zayn's class, though his Baby Buddy was a boy named Ashton whom Harry and Niall were just begining to get to know. Then, standing slightly in front of the other two boys with the infamous head of chesnut hair and sky blue eyes- Louis. Harry's Big Buddy, and possibly favourite person on the planet, besides Gemma of course. Anne was never shocked seeing the boys play around at school, she had grown close to Johannah, Louis' mum, and knew how many siblings he had. So, it was no wonder his magic worked on Harry, though she always did wonder if he really enjoyed always playing with her son, the bored looks on his face whenever he came over were giving the worried mother nightmares.
"Come on in, boys, Harry, Niall, and Gem are out back," each boy nodded a thanks, taking off their shoes before they entered and giving Anne a hug on their way in. They knew their way around the home, finding their way to the sliding door in the back and flooding the rest of the house with three screaming kids and splashing.
"Zayn!" Niall cried when the boys came into view, Gemma holding both boys down in her arms. She let them both go, to which Niall bolted out of the pool to lather Zayn in water. Harry sat up, shaking his soaked hair and waving shyly to Louis, who nodded and began starting a conversation with Liam. Harry didn't know what the funny feeling in his chest was, but it didn't feel good. It kinda felt like someone was pulling on his hair, but instead of hair it was his chest. But, he didn't say anything about it because he was busy getting a quick cuddle from Liam, who brought the young boy's happiness back.
While the two younger lads played in the pool, the older boys kicked a football around one another, Liam or Zayn stopping the game every so often to check on their little lads or play with them a moment. To which Louis would cross his arms and cock his hip to one side because- excuse me-why were they fussing over the little tots so much? They were just in the water splashing the heat off each other, playing some sort of pretend game, everything was fine- they weren't babysitters. But, that didn't stop someone from breaking the game and placing their hands in the kiddie pool for a moment, seeing what the eccentric lads were doing.
"They're playing pirate," Zayn said one time as he pulled away from the pool and kicked the football toward Liam, "Or Ni said they were, but there is a good chance he is just telling Harry was to do and the poor sap is following along," Zayn chuckled, earning a dramatic pout from Louis, "What? Is it so bad I check on them?"
"We aren't their babysitters, Zayn," Louis mumbled, tired of stopping the game.
"Um, Lou, we sort of are," Liam announced, kicking the football in the former's direction, "Anne invited you over to watch Hazzy, and she allows Zayn and I to tag along. The kid loves you, don't you get kind of excited when you think of that?" |
d1c03d92b3ac423c9f8dd1aa00be4bc6 | ['a92093e0641a4de483db6314bf24e1fa'] | Well, actually I have no idea on whatsoever I´m doing, but then, after a second where I believe Baz will push me away, he sighs, and his arms are around my shoulder now, pulling me closer to him. His hands grip thight around my shoulders, so I couldn´t pull away, even if I wanted to.
I feel his tongue dancing over my lip, and it tickles, but, to say it, I really, really like it, so I open my mouth a bit, letting his tongue push into it, and I don´t want this to stop.
I have never been kissed like this ever before.
When I kissed Agatha, it always had been boring and I didn´t know how to not stop after a second, because it just did not feel right-
But this here now, kissing Baz like this, this feels right. I bite his lip eagerly, and he....he...
He moans.
Baz fucking moans, and I am the reason of this sound.
He pulls away a bit, and, hell, he is out of breath, and I´m causing this. I´m happy, all of sudden.
" Fuck, Snow" He mumbles, before he kisses me again, and this time, he´s in control, and he´s pushing his tongue into my mouth, tuggig at my hair slightly, and it feels good and it feels right and I can´t help but whimper, I press myself closer to him, I don´t want there to be any spare places from us.
I whimper again, when he bites my lip, and then again, when he tugs at my hair again, shoving me down onto his bed.
I´m literally lying in Baz´s bed, and we´re making out. Gods, what has happened to me? I was used to hate him, and now I barely can´t stop myself from biting his lips and running my hands through his delicate hair. Gods, his hair. It feels slick against my fingers, but at the same time, it feels wooly and soft, wavy and...yes, I believe the word I´m looking for is...perfect.
He pulls away and i can´t help but breathe in really deep. Baz is laughing silently and running his thumb over my cheek.
" Fuck, Snow." He whispers again, and I bite my lip, because, it sounds like a Compliment when he says it like this. " Fuck, Simon".
The way he says my name, like it´s the only thing that matters. Like it´s the only name he will ever pronounce, say like this. I wonder if he always wanted to do this, but I don´t care for the moment, because, it´s perfect.
* * *
**BAZ**
I just really want to kiss him over and over again. I dreamed about this so long, and it looks like I finally got Simon Snow where I want him to be. It feels like I finally got something right. And, I just fed before he came here, and so I can concentrate on Simon Snow.
He stares up at me, like I´m something that matters to him. Is he gay? Or why is he doing this? Why would he do this?
"Baz-" He says, but then he just cuts himself of, gripping onto my shirt and pulling me down for another kiss, pulling me into my bed with him. He´s still wet and full of snow, but right now, I just don´t care. It feels right, and good, and...
I don´t know. My whole brain seems to shut up when Snow kisses me like that.
It feels weird, a bit at least. Simon Snow is kissing me.
And now, his hands are fiddling with the hem of my shirt, and he opens the buttons-
Simon Snow is, indeed, trying to undress me. Oh my god. I can´t breathe, if I´m honest, I barely can at all think-
Because he is opening my shirt and he doesn´t even stop kissing me, he just chuckles slightly and runs his hand down my chest. Oh....
It feels like I might explode from all of this, from the knowing that this is Snow who is touching me right now, Snow, who seems to want me as desperately as I want him, and I would give a lot right now just to know what he´s thinking....
* * *
** SIMON **
Mmmmmh......Baz........mmmmmhhhhh.....more.......nnnnnngggg......aaaaaaaahhhh............
I don´t ever want to stop.....mmhhhh.......
* * *
** BAZ **
After what feels like hours, Snow pulls away, his hand still on my chest, and he presses his forehead against mine, smiling a little bit, his eyes staring into mine. Blue and grey.
" I´m...sorry?" He asks, and I shake my head, because why on earth is he sorry? " I...I´m sorry, I guess."
" There´s no need to be sorry." I say, and he bites his lip, but I can see him relax. Did he think I would kill him, after _this_?
I waited almost five years for this, so why would I be angry. There is absolutely no need to be sorry for Snow.
I just smile at him, and he stares at me. It´s awkward, but, I wouldn´t want it any other way.
" Baz?" He asks " So, can I stay here over night?" He asks, and I nearly laugh again, because, it´s just so cute. He looks so cute, so innocent, so....perfect, I guess.
I nodd " Oh...yeah. Of course" I say, before I draw him in for another kiss.
2. Waking up
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Why is Simon Snow so attractive when you were just waking up?
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Ayo fucklings.
> I present to you Chapter 2!
> Oh, I just loooove SnowBaz.
**BAZ**
When i wake up, I notice that I barely have any space on my pillow left, and that I´m laying in something wet. I turn my head, and see golden skin. Like, it´s not golden. But, light gold. Wait-why is there light golden skin in my bed? | d0fd64b344c44d2ab1b5f9abbbe298c2 | ['a92093e0641a4de483db6314bf24e1fa'] | " Oh.... where to? Manchester..... I don´t think that...." he stuttered, his heart aching inside his chest and the voice inside his head laughing.
" I was thinking, London would be alright?" Phil said, and Dan shook his head, nodded, then. Phil would move back to London, with Connor. " Aren´t you happy, Dan?"
" I.... but, I don´t think that Connor will like to leave America" Dan heard himself say.
And then, lips were locked with each other again and Dan was overwhelmed with the warmth Phil always brought with him, with this burning sunlight every kiss he shared with Dan made the younger boy light up.
Even if it didn´t make sense, the voice shut up for a second, obviously overwhelmed, as well, and Dan smiled a little bit into the kiss, especially when Phil wrapped his arms around Dans body, pulling him on top of him.
" I´m not with Connor any longer, he isn´t even here" Phil whispered between two small kisses. " I´m sorry, but I think that I maybe still be in love with you"
Dan gasped, and this time he was sure it was him who made this. " But.....why were you with him in first place?"
" That´s biology. You´re often attracted to the opposite of you- but you´re longer attracted to someone who is similar to you, so, surprise: I love you" Phil mumbled and Dan cried into the older mans shoulder after that.
_He still hurt you_
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
**Shut the fuck up.** |
7bb0bbffa793448dae141c95ee6fa3ff | ['a957600146a44d83afeb82a87bb1b834'] | “Okay either way, the way you’re trying to get it off isn’t working out so well. Instead of making it come to you, you should lure it,” Ian suggested.
“Okay, but how? If it won’t come to my arms what will?”
“Oh I have an idea,” Ian assured him with a smirk across his face.
\--
Anthony walked up to his door, getting his keys out of his pocket. The door opened and Anthony placed his keys on the counter, running back outside to his car and carried a big box filled with his belongings that were at Kalel’s house. ‘Well, this is the last of it, at least she didn’t throw it in the trash,’ he thought to himself, ‘I still wish I knew what went wrong. We were so happy!’ Anthony felt a knot forming in his throat and his eyes began to water.
“No, no more tears,” he said aloud to himself, rubbing his eyes to wipe away the tears, “Besides it’s all over now.”
Anthony realized that the house was quiet. ‘Is Ian home?’ he thought to himself as he walked towards Ian’s room and saw it empty, Ian-less. ‘Oh guess he’s out somewhere.’
He felt his phone vibrating and saw a text from Joven, “Come over to Smosh Games HQ asap! You won’t believe what’s happening!” it read. He texted back saying, “Okay be right there.” He then grabbed his keys and headed to Smosh Games.
4. Chapter 4
Anthony arrived at Smosh Games HQ and as he got out of the car, he notices Ian’s blue car. ‘Guess he’s here too,’ he thought as he walked inside the building, ‘Wonder what all the fuss is about? As he got there, he sees Joven in front of the door, trying to maintain himself from laughing so hard, releasing a few laughs from his signature ‘Walrus Laugh’. As he was laughing, he notices Anthony, “Oh good! You’re here just in time.”
“Okay, but what’s going on? Why are you laughing so much?” Anthony asked, his eyebrows curved from all of the curiosity.
“Come and see for yourself,” Joven dragged Anthony into the room and there he sees Lasercorn, dressed in a chicken costume that was used in one of the Smosh videos. Mari handed Sohinki the fake beak and puts it around his head, adjusting it to where his mouth is. Ian, laughing hard, was holding a plastic cup, while helping Lasercorn stand up, “Well, I do say you make a mighty fine turkey.”
“Before you move on with your “glorious” plan, guess who showed up,” Joven said, directing his fingers to Anthony, who was chuckling.
“Hey you finally made it!” Sohinki said, “And here I thought you would miss the show.”
“No, Joven texted me and I thought it was something important. But, apparently, it’s just you guys fooling around as usual,” Anthony chuckled, pointing at Lasercorn, “So why are you dressed like a chicken?”
“Well, give Ian all of the credit, this is all his doing,” Lasercorn replied, grabbing the cup from Ian’s hand, “Dude, what’s inside the cup?”
“Oh y’know, just some “food” birds enjoy snacking on,” Ian smirked.
“So it’s-” he asked slowly.
“Worms.”
“Ugh, dude that’s gross!” Lasercorn exclaimed as he made a face of pure disgust.
“Well, you did decide to be ‘mama bird’,” Sohinki reminded him.
“Y’know, no one has answered my question: what the hell is going on and why is Lasercorn dressed like poultry?” Anthony asked with a bit of annoyance in his voice.
“Oh right,” Mari explained, “You see, the guys found a wild turkey in here.” She pointed to the direction where the turkey is, which hasn’t moved from the same spot it was in, “And well, Ian here, thought that if Lasercorn wanted to lure the turkey, he has to pretend he’s a turkey using worms that Sohinki found on the ground outside.”
“Ah, well hopefully your plan works Ian, because that thing is scaring me,” Anthony said.
Ian felt his face flushed, then tries to concentrate on the plan as Sohinki explained to Lasercorn what he’ll be doing and was chuckling at the same time, “Right, okay Lasercorn, Ian will be putting one of the worm on your beak and you need to try to get near to the turkey without scaring the shit out of it.”
Lasercorn sighed, “Alright, let’s get this over with.”
He waited as Ian placed the worm onto the plastic beak. After the worm has been placed on the beak, he gets on his knees; he then starts gobbling as he slowly crawls to the turkey. It broke free from its motionless stand and turns to Lasercorn. Sohinki and Jovenshire quietly and slowly got on their knees, next to him and the turkey, holding a cage they had found around the building. As soon as Lasercorn stops at a couple of inches away from the turkey, it got off of the desk, and walked its way towards him. Scared, he turns to Ian, who nodded his head, and shook off the live worm and quickly, crawling away from the turkey. As the turkey gulped down the worm, Sohinki and Joven trapped the turkey in the cage, closing it quickly before the turkey could try to escape. The four guys screamed and high fived each other as Lasercorn took off the costume. He then gave Ian a hug, shuffling his bowl haircut, leaving it all messy.
“Okay, okay, settle down boys,” Mari smirked at the guys.
“Well, what should we do with it? Should we call animal control?” Sohinki asked.
“I say we eat it,” Lasercorn suggested with a grin on his face as he was still unaware that he was holding Ian by the waist.
“Second it!” Ian shouted in agreement, raising a fist in the air.
“No way! It’s a turkey and wild one,” Mari cried, “What if it was, I don’t know, someone’s pet?” | 5a78f8a3b8374a378eed428ff1306688 | ['a957600146a44d83afeb82a87bb1b834'] |
1. Chapter 1
**Author's Note:**
> I honestly have no shame at this point. So a while back, I grabbed a part from one of ProJared's streams with Yungtown and he made a growling sound, so I recorded it and made it into an audio post. Ever since I made the audio post, I decided to write a fic somewhat based on it.
>
> Here's the post if you're curious to hear it: http://rubberdaniel.tumblr.com/post/144242695513/im-sorry-for-this-but-dont-kinkshame-me-luke
>
> Special thanks to Ariel, Marina, Zeel, and Cynn for helping me finish this fic on the doc!
Chills goes through your spine as you and Luke kissed each other hard in the clubroom. It was past curfew and he had texted you earlier about a thing he wanted help with for class tomorrow. The tension in the room grew strong as you stayed there, even after finishing with whatever Luke asked; you couldn’t help be drawn to him. Your mouth opened wide as Luke trails to your neck, kissing it. His hand fiddling with your shirt, sucking on your tender skin driving you insane. You could feel your legs getting weaker. You helped remove Luke’s Hidden Block sweater and shirt as he finished with yours. His hands trailing up and down your torso, quietly growling in your ear. You let out a soft moan as soon as he did that; it drove you insane. Luke looked you with a sly smirk, his eyes hooded with lust.
“Did you like that?”
You whimpered. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction knowing that the Growl has turned you on before. But he got close to your ear again and gave another growl, seeing your face flush red. He gave another smirk then laughed.
“I think I know your answer.”
He proceeded to tenderly kiss down to your stomach, reaching your skirt. You reached for his hat and took it off, allowing you to feel his hair. He didn’t mind as he moved to kiss your thighs, making you feel impatient. Luke then lifted up your skirt and admire your area. You feel heat rise up to your neck with embarrassment. He smiled warmly, “You nervous?”
You nodded. Luke reached over to kiss you slowly. You can feel yourself losing it as the kisses got rougher and harder again. Luke suckled on your lip, hearing you moan a little louder than usual. You looked at Luke and he caught your silent message. He kisses you once more before returning to your skirt. His kissed your inner thighs, disappearing into the skirt. Your attempts of keeping quiet were failing as he starts to lick your labia through your panties. Luke smiled to your attempts of silencing your moans.
He gingerly takes off your panties, leaving him a beautiful sight of your pussy. He sees you blush again, a deep red. Grabbing you by the waist, he gave you a sly smirk and proceed to tongue your slit, making you release soft pants. Luke hummed to your sounds of pleasure as he sucks and circles your clit, making even more sounds come out of your mouth. You arch your back even higher from the floor, grabbing Luke’s hair and pulling it hard. He inserts a finger inside and starts to thrust in slowly. He adds another finger in; it was driving you mad.
His thrusts were getting faster, harder, and deeper. You pulled his hair hard, legs over his shoulders. Luke pulled away from your pussy to kiss you deeply, letting you have a taste. You shut your eyes as you can feel your orgasm coming, contracting in Luke’s fingers. You sat up to grab his face and kiss him deeply, caressing his hair. He took his fingers out and proceeded to clean them dry with his mouth, releasing a small growl in satisfaction.
“I guess we’ll be doing this more often, huh?” You said sheepishly.
“Yeah, although I might need some help…” Luke pointed down to his current situation, a slight blush across his face.
You smirked as you gather your things and returning your panties back where it belongs. “Well, we could have another study session tomorrow,” you suggested.
Luke whimpered slightly, but his smile said otherwise.
“Alright, tomorrow it is then.”
2. Returning the Favor
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> After your last session with Luke, he invites you over for another study session. But you have plans of returning the favor.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> After having so much fun writing the first chapter of the Growl, I decided to plan and write 3 more chapters! I was putting this chapter off because I was taking summer classes and I was kinda stumped, but now I'm done with classes, so I'll be able to work on the planned fics I have.
>
> Special thanks to Ariel and Cynn, thank you for your help on this, I appreciate it greatly! <3
You were the first one to arrive the clubroom. Glancing at the time on your phone, you noticed that Luke was a little late. You felt a bit nervous, will it be alright? You’ve done this sort of thing once before, which was a bit awkward, but surely Luke would understand…right?
The phone in your hand vibrated and you looked at it: it was a text from Luke.
_Luke:_
_Hey, do you wanna come to my room instead? Ian’s out with Jeff and isn’t coming back for the rest of the night._
Your heart started beating fast. Alone, in the boys’ dorm? Would it be possible to even…? You gave a hesitant shrug. Well, at least it won’t be in the clubroom this time around. |
a6e9a38df91342248fb6dc3ed9d12185 | ['a95e0ff32ff34a6ebb212896ed98830b'] | Laura watched the interaction from what felt like a lense. Neither of them acknowledged her as she stood awkwardly waiting for the elevator to stop at the bottom floor. Finally the elevator light turned to the number ‘1’, causing the box to jerk and sending the redhead tumbling into Laura.
“Shit, sorry. I am not so good with the whole balance thing,” They apologized with a laugh.
The brunette turned around to look at her before that annoying, though incredibly sexy (Laura would not dare admit out loud...or ever), smirk came to her face.
“Hey there, cutie. I did not see you this morning. Did you decide coffee was not for you after all?”
Laura rolled her eyes, though not even remotely annoyed, at the way the woman spoke. It sent shivers down her spine in the best, yet most concerning, way possible. “I will have you know that I love coffee and I am actually headed out to get some now.”
That was only partly true but she did not need to know that.
“Ah my mistake, cupcake. Though I am not sure whether to be a little offended that our office’s coffee is not good enough for you.”
The three of them exited the elevator, LaFontaine looking incredibly confused at the interaction while Carmilla kept her pace slow to walk next to Laura.
“It is delicious, just inconvenient.”
“And leaving the building is what?”
This time Laura groaned, now slightly annoyed. This woman seemed to send her thoughts into circles and twist her words - all too much confusion for someone who had not yet had a cup of coffee.
By the time she had come up with a witty response, the woman was already headed out of the front doors with her friend. Laura, once again, never heard her leave.
How the hell was she doing that?
-
“What was that?”
LaFontaine questioned after they were a few feet from the building. The smirk had yet to leave Carmilla’s face as they walked. It was entirely too satisfying for her to watch women get flustered just by a simple tone of voice she put on. It was a gift really.
“Just a little flirting as all.”
“With her?”
Carmilla raised her eyebrow, “Yes? Is there a problem? She was hot.”
“I just cannot believe you are that bold to blatantly flirt with her.”
“I do it all of the time and you have never said anything about it before. What is the issue?”
“Um maybe the fact that she is Lawrence’s girlfriend or...fiancee or something.”
Carmilla was so taken aback that she actually had to stop walking for a moment. LaFontaine stopped walking as well to wait for her to process the information. After a long while they were slightly concerned with Carmilla’s silence.
“Are you alright?”
“I just cannot believe that Xena scored _her_. I mean I know I hit on a lot of girls but you have to admit she was gorgeous.” Carmilla noted as she began walking again.
“Oh god,” LaFontaine rolled their eyes, matching her pace “Do not tell me that you are falling for our boss’ girl.”
“No one said anything about falling.”
“You have never called a girl gorgeous in your entire life. It is always ‘hot’, or ‘a total babe’, or ‘sexy’ but definitely not gorgeous.”
Carmilla groaned but she knew LaFontaine was right. She had not called a girl gorgeous since that girl Elle that she dated in high school but Elle had broken her poor teenage heart so that was a bust.
“Whatever, it is just a word.”
LaFontaine opened their mouth to give a sarcastic comment but decided against it seeing the expression on Carmilla’s face. The rest of the walk to the restaurant was pretty normal for them and the second they ordered and sat down, Carmilla was diving right into their exact reason for going out in the first place.
“So what is this plan you have?” As LaFontaine opened their mouth, the brunette added on, “It better not involve some crazy science or else I will tear you limb from limb right here in this restaurant.”
“But, _Carmilla I would love to make crazy science with you_ ,” They mimicked in their best French accent.
“You truly are the worst person I have ever met.”
“I guess it is a good thing that you do not have any other options,” LaFontaine smiled taking a quick sip of their soda. “Anyway, you saw this person on the subway right?”
“Correct.”
“So there is no way you can get away with doing something about this through all of those people-”
“Wow this is helping so much,” Carmilla rolled her eyes.
“Would you just listen? My idea is to put up an advertisement. You do not have to say your name just give some details such as where you first started seeing the colors, when, what train you were on and where it was headed, little things like that and then you can put a date and time for you and the person to meet.”
“I am going to seem like a serial killer.”
“I’m sorry, do you have a better idea?” When Carmilla did not respond they looked smugly before continuing, “That is what I thought. You can put the advertisement online or something and see who responds.”
“What happens when someone tries to kidnap me?”
“Do you really think I would send you off without backup? I will be in the background with my scientific weapons of mass destruction. They will not even be able to think of trying something before I jump out from the shadows and tackle them.”
Carmilla raised her eyebrow, “The shadows? Where the hell are you picturing this being?”
“I don’t know, a park maybe? That would be so romantic at night with the lamps and city lights.”
“Or completely creepy,” Carmilla added. | be63824d4f0e45519924ba683eff847c | ['a95e0ff32ff34a6ebb212896ed98830b'] | “Could be what?”, Laura had a feeling that she knew the answer but refused to jump to any conclusions.
“Your girlfriend..if you want.”
“Do you want to be?”
“If you want me to be.”
The women couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction. They were worse than some of the students they taught in this aspect.
“Why don’t you ask me?”
Carmilla rolled her eyes playfully as she turned Laura so that they were facing each other. “Laura, will you be my girlfriend?”
The smaller woman stood on her toes to bring her lips to her girlfriend’s. _ God, that word is amazing. _
“I guess, since you’re begging me.” Laura winked as she pushed back down to flat feet and continued walking.
“You’re killing me, Hollis.”
-
Carmilla stood at the copier waiting for the papers for her next class to come out. As she waited she couldn’t help but overhear some other teachers as they punched holes in stacks of papers.
_ “It’s such a shame we can’t go on the field trip. Hollis was trying so hard to organize it.” _
_ “I know, I hope she’s not too upset about it. I’m sure the students just want to get out of school. I don’t think they care either way.” _
_ “You’re right about that. I just hope it does not kill her spirit. She’s the only one of us left who is not yet desperate for retirement.” _
The woman left the room laughing, with their papers in their hands. Carmilla couldn’t help but pause. What the hell were they talking about?
-
“I think a really important part of Antigone is that she did what she wanted because it felt right and it was what she wanted to do. I want you all to understand this point. There was nothing that anyone could say to set her apart from doing what she felt was right. She buried her brother because it was the right thing to do but betrayed herself in the end with a suicide. Don’t ever let someone take away from you what you feel is right and don’t ever apologize for doing what is right. That was Antigone’s true downfall. She betrayed herself as a result of a simple set back. Remember what I told you with our last novel - everything is temporary.”
Just as she finished her sentence, the bell rang and the students began to piling out of the room.
All except one.
“Ms. Hollis, are we still going on the field trip? My mother said she got an email about it but was not very clear about the changes.”
Laura sighed, “Well we are going on a field trip just not the one I had originally planned on us taking. I’ll talk more about that next class.”
“My mother said email her if there is anything she can do to help.”
“Tell her I said thank you. See you next class.”
As the student left the room, Carmilla entered. She shut the door behind her and sat down on Laura’s desk with a sigh.
“What’s wrong with you?”, Laura pushed a couple paper’s aside before joining her.
“People keep talking about this field trip thing. What’s going on? I thought we balanced the budgets.”
Laura sighed, shrugging her shoulders. “It just wasn’t enough for us to take the trip and get new hardback books. A lot of our novels need replacing and I just figured that was more important than a trip to see the ancient ruins.”
“Sweetheart, that would be the trip of a lifetime. Are you sure you can’t just ask the system for a loan?”
Laura shook her head, “It’s not worth it. But it’s okay,” she tried her best to smile though she was truly disappointed. “We’re in the middle of planning a trip to see Antigone live.”
That would be nowhere near as interesting and both of them knew it but it went without saying. Laura was trying her best to make English enjoyable for the students but it seemed like things were constantly getting in her way of making that happen.“You know you’re doing a great job, right?”, Carmilla nudged the smaller woman with her foot.
“I hope so.”
“You _ are _ .” Carmilla was more adamant this time and it brought a smile to Laura’s face.
English and Math were on opposite sides of the spectrum and those in either field usually found no enjoyment or significance in the other. Girlfriend bias or not it was nice to hear.
They spend the rest of the planning period in Laura’s room eating the lunch she packed and enjoying each other’s company. It was Friday which meant there was no planning to be done and Laura had no more classes for the rest of the day. Carmilla had to go back to her classroom for her final class while Laura spent the rest of her time in her room on the phone with her father, filling him in on how things were going.
She felt guilty for not talking to him as much as she could have, especially now that he was alone, but she also knew that he would want her to spend time enjoying her adult years. He asked her the typical questions about how it was teaching but then he dropped a question that caught her off guard.
_ “So when is the wedding?” _
Her breath caught in her chest momentarily, “What?”
“Oh come on, Laura. I know my daughter and I know when she is seeing someone. So who is it?”
“You don’t know them.” She tried her best to use a gender neutral pronoun but her father saw straight through that.
“You can just say her, pumpkin. I told you before that I don’t care who you love as long as they treat you right and I meant it. Now, is it that tall one that you were chatting with at your induction?” |
c6b47d2e67db49e7b07d7b643b1c3230 | ['a96c779504504d0d96cf55441500c70d'] | “Yea, you’re right, Amy. I’m just nervous, this is the first time she’ll be away for the night,” you say to your best friend, telling her about your worries.
“She’ll be fine, you’re worrying too much about this,” Amy’s voice sounded through your phone, “(Y/D/N) knows me, I’m not a stranger to her, after all. You have fun on your date with your boyfriend.”
You rolled your eyes at the kindergarten teacher of your daughter before saying your goodbyes and hanging up the phone, turning to go to (Y/D/N)’s room to get her ready only for her and Sebastian to walk out of her room the second you entered the small hallway. Yes, you were still living in your apartment even though Sebastian had offered to move into a bigger one countless of times but you didn’t want to rip your daughter from her familiar surroundings so you declined every time until you and Sebastian decided for him to move in with you. He was everything you could’ve wished for, the perfect father and boyfriend, taking care of your daughter, bringing her to her kindergarten on some days and picking you up from work so you both could get (Y/D/N) together.
“Ready to go to Aunt Amy?” Sebastian asked the little girl who responded with nodding her head up and down while a big, toothy grin spread over her face.
“Great, let’s go then,” you grabbed her hand, Sebastian following you out of the apartment and locking the door behind him to walk the short distance to your best friends place.
“So, first time without (Y/D/N)…what do you wanna do?” you asked as you sat down on your couch after dropping off your daughter.
“Well there’s definitely something I can think about,” Sebastian said, leaning over the back of the couch to connect his lips with yours.
“Oh, yea? And what’s that?” you mumbled against his lips, kneeling on the couch and placing your hands onto the backrest to hold yourself up.
“Well, it involves you, me and our bed.” Sebastian pulled away, his eyes lingering on your lips before snapping upwards to your eyes, lust pooling in them. You really wanted this, there was no denying that, but it had been several years since your last time having sex so you were basically a nervous wreck. To be exact, the last time was when he had impregnated you.
“Unless you’re not ready yet, I completely understand that, (Y/N),” Sebastian reassured you, seeing your hesitation before you cut him off by pressing your lips on his.
“No, I’m ready…I’m just nervous, that’s all.”
“I’ll be careful, I promise.” Your boyfriend stepped around the couch and lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his middle by instinct while his lips attached themselves onto your neck. Within the blink of an eye, you found your back pressed against the soft mattress of your shared bed, Sebastian’s arms on either side of your face while your tongues were busy fighting a battle you were sure to lose. Either way, you didn’t give up, your hands roaming his muscular body above you, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and moving it up his back, wanting to get rid of the fabric separating you, keeping your skin from connecting with his’. Pushing himself off the mattress slightly, Sebastian quickly pulled his shirt off, tossing it carelessly behind him before continuing to work on your neck, making sure to leave marks to be seen the next day while your hands softly grabbed onto his back, your nails slightly scratching his skin which caused his hips to involuntary snap forward, his bulge rubbing against your core and causing you to let out the most beautiful moan to his ears.
“Fuck, baby, do that again,” he groaned, amazement covering his face at the noises that escaped your mouth. Next thing you knew your shirt was being flung across the room, Sebastian pulling off his pants while you unclasped your bra and sliding the straps down your arms just in time for him to look up, his eyes darting over your body, taking in the beauty right in front of his eyes. His intense gaze made you slightly insecure, a need to cover yourself up creeping up on you but before you could act on it Sebastian had pulled you close his hands gently pulling your bra off of you while getting lost in your eyes.
“You’re absolutely perfect, (Y/N). There’s no need for you to hide that from me,” he whispered, your eyes scurrying from one eye to the other while he slowly pushed you back down, his chest pressing into yours, his skin hot and smooth, a shiver to running down your spine in reaction to the sensation.
“I love you,” you mumble, losing yourself in his baby-blue eyes all over again.
“I love you, too.” Sebastian slowly moved down your body, stopping to kiss and suck on your skin, leaving behind bruises for only the two of you to be seen the next day. Reaching the hem of your pants he looked up at you from his position between your legs, making sure you were alright with him taking them off. You furiously nodded your head in confirmation, desperate for his touch. Your boyfriend hooked his fingers through the belt loops of your pants after pulling down the zipper and undoing the button as you lifted up your hips to help him get rid of the material only for you to lay stark naked in front of him.
“So. Fucking. Gorgeous,” he uttered while taking everything in, your beautiful skin, perky nipples and heaving chest, breathless already from your shared kisses.
“Please, Seb,” you whimpered, wanting, needing to feel his fingers on your skin. | 1bd693e4f51d41f593b68e90eafa70fd | ['a96c779504504d0d96cf55441500c70d'] | “No, I just need to get out of this thing and move my legs.” You stood up, slightly wobbly due to not walking for quite a while and the heavy weight of your belly, being nearly 8 months pregnant and all. Kady immediately stabilised you.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“You know what, Kady? I’m sick of people treating me like I’m dying or like I’m going to fall apart any second. I’m pregnant, not life-threateningly sick. I was just a bit stressed, that’s why I passed out. It’s nothing. I’m completely fine and you all are pretending like I can’t do anything on my own, while I clearly can. So, please, I would appreciate it if for once you would treat me like a normal person and not like I’m made out of glass”, you ranted, clearly frustrated with the situation.
“Okay, calm down, (Y/N). I get it. Let’s fold up this wheelchair, just in case and then we can head to the infirmary,” Kady said.
“Infirmary? Why?”
“Oh, shit…Well, you see,” she tried to avoid the question, but after a deathly glare from you, she decided it would be useless not to tell you now.
“Ella was attacked by a four-headed snake and she’s in the infirmary now, together with my dad who got shot…”
“Well, let’s go, why are we standing around like idiots?”
Kady was the first one to burst through the door, running to her dad who laid on a stretcher, waiting for his surgery. Your eyes quickly scanned the room, landing on the young girl who was like a sister to you. As quickly as possible, given your state, you walked over to her bed.
“Stars above, I’m so sorry, Ella. I shouldn’t have left, I should’ve said goodbye.” You hugged her as tightly as you could, your hands rubbing her back. When you pushed back, Ella’s expression was completely blank, her eyes wandering from your face to your stomach.
“(Y/N/N)? But…What the fuck?” she pulled back her oxygen mask to speak, her words quiet but you knew she definitely didn’t expect to see you.
“Listen, I’m sorry okay. I know I should’ve said something to you-“
“No, what the fuck?! Who-What happened?” she exclaimed. You looked at the ground trying to find the right words to explain when you heard a deep voice, “(Y/N)?” Turning around you faced the boy who you left all these months ago. Niklas Malikov. He still looked as handsome as he did when you left Heimdall, if not more. While you were busy talking to Ella, you hadn’t noticed Nik starring at you, mouth open, face blank in shock. Only when Ella nearly screamed at you, he came back to his senses.
“Nik…” you whispered, not really trusting your voice.
“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Captain Syra Boll asked.
“Wait, so you’re (Y/N). The (Y/N), Nik was in love with until she disappeared?” The blonde girl, you assumed it was Hanna Donnelly, that had been leaning against a wall spoke up. Your eyes turned from her up to Nik’s face, a light blush dusting his cheeks.
“(Y/N), I…,” before he could say anything, his eyes trailed down your body, settling on your stomach, like Ella’s previously had. You could see the gears in his head turning, doing the math and coming to the conclusion that you were obviously pregnant with his child.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Listen, I-I wanted to tell you but I…I was scared and afraid. I didn’t know what to do, the both of us are teenagers, you’re a drug-dealer, for fuck’s sake. And I-I just freaked out and asked Mr Grant to get me somewhere else, anywhere but Heimdall and he send me to Kerenza,” you tried to explain but were interrupted when Nik wrapped his arms around you, hugging carefully but tightly.
“I thought something happened to you, (Y/N)…Don’t ever do this to me again,” he whispered into your ear before pulling away.
“I hate to break you two apart, but we have some serious matters to discuss,” Syra said, smiling at you and Nik.
After your improvised meeting, Nik pulled you away into a storage closet to get some privacy. He opened his mouth to speak but before he got to that you grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer to you, pressing your lips onto his chapped ones. His arms wrapped around your waist pulling you as close as possible with your belly in the way, your arms wrapping around his neck, your hands moving into his hair. You were the first one to pull away, the lack of air causing you to gasp for air.
“I love you,” Nik suddenly blurted out, startling you for a second even though you knew you felt the same for him.
“I-I love you, too,” you smiled up at him.
“Do-Do you know the gender?”
“Yes…a girl, it’ll be a girl.”
“(Y/N), I’m sorry. I should’ve talked to you after that night, but since you were Ella’s tutor I didn’t know if you even wanted me as your boyfriend-“
“Of course I wanted you as my boyfriend Nik. I still do. You don’t need to apologise, I do. I should’ve told you. About me being pregnant. But I panicked and-“
“No, (Y/N), don’t. I know you, and I know you tend to overthink things. We both could’ve done things differently but that doesn’t matter. We’re here now. Together. That’s all that counts,” he pecked your lips again.
“The next few days will be stressful but as soon as this is over, I promise you we will go settle down somewhere and take care of our little girl together.”
“Well, two little girls. I’m not leaving Ella alone,” you chuckled.
2. Part II |
4427f98ff9c24071b78a3773e37f6a65 | ['a97c41bebcc64891ba96ec00312efe3f'] | Bum decided he wasn’t going to treat Sangwoo like a total prisoner, that if he was good he would get rewarded. “Sangwoo,” He called as he navigated the stairs, and with little light he could see that the other was curled up in a ball beside his pole. A tiny smile appeared on Bum’s face, liking the contrast of this gentle Sangwoo against his creepy, demanding other forms. He wasn’t just one person at times- he had multiple facets and crevices that Yoonbum had to learn to navigate. Bum also had to be prepared when one of his facets switched in an instant, as everything was unpredictable when it came to him.
He sat down beside the man, gently running his fingers through his hair. It was dirty, but still soft. The other’s eyes flipped open, staring Yoonbum down. “H-hey Sangwoo…” He tried, not expecting the other to suddenly wake up, “I have something special for you today.” At this Sangwoo’s eyes lit up, and he straightened himself up with a soft “Oh?” “I’m going to let you eat with me today.. Upstairs.” Bum explained, and this made Sangwoo very excited. He brought a hand to his lips, smiling a little. “When I unchain you, you have to behave.” The younger boy took a key to the cuffs and unlocked them, each coming undone with a soft “click”.
Suddenly Sangwoo lurched for him, throwing his arms around him in desperation. “Thank you Yoo-” “Knock it off!” Bum replied, pushing him harshly backwards, making the other hit directly against the pole. “S-Sorry! Are you alright…?” He said afterwards, regretting his action a little. “Yes, I wasn’t behaving, sorry Yoonbum.” Sangwoo smiled reassuringly, keeping his distance now. “Don’t do that again, or no reward.” Bum warned, but his face didn’t look the part.
“Since your legs are practically useless, and you’re too heavy to carry, you’ll have to make it up the stairs by yourself.” He said as he stood, and Sangwoo nodded. Little by little, he dragged himself to the stairs, and started to climb them. It was agonizing to watch him as you could tell he was using all of his arm strength, But Bum was practically useless to help someone who is two times bigger than he was. He slipped once or twice, but always regained ground with a little push from Bum. Finally, the mission was accomplished as they found themselves in Yoonbum’s bedroom.
Yoonbum watched as Sangwoo looked around, and smiled when he looked at the bed. Yoonbum raised an eyebrow at him, but lightly pushed him with his foot as a signal to keep moving. Sangwoo tried to head right out of the bedroom. “No, no, wrong. Go to the left.” Bum said, giving him a light push with his foot. To the right was the front door, and a set of stairs. Potential freedom for his captive, and Yoonbum knew that. He’d have to be sure to have the door locked at all times, and threaten him later if he ever tried to escape.
“So Sangwoo, what’s your favorite things to eat?” Bum asked as he bypassed him into the kitchen. Sangwoo looked surprised at the question, but happily replied with a dish name. “Yeah, I don’t have that…” The other laughed as he looked through the cabinets, and added, “You have expensive taste. I can’t afford to spend that much money on you.” Bum left for a moment, and returned with a rolly chair. “This is so you can help me, like you said you would.” He reminded Sangwoo, and the other diligently got himself into it with little help from the other.
In about ten minutes, they got the kitchen setup for making a meal. He appointed him to cutting vegetables, but instead of giving him a real knife, he gave him a butter knife. He didn’t trust him quite yet with anything that sharp. Sangwoo was mincing some green onions, and Yoonbum focused on the pot on the stove. Tears ran down Sangwoo’s cheeks. “W-why are you crying?” Bum asked when he noticed, grabbing a tissue to wipe them away. “Don’t worry about me Yoonbum. I was just thinking about… my mother. She would cook for me all the time. You remind me of her.” He replied, and reached out his hands towards the other. Then he remembered his place, and stopped. Bum gently took his hands back, and placed them around himself. “Don’t cry Sangwoo…” He tried to comfort him as he ran his fingers through the other’s hair. Sangwoo rubbed his head against Bum’s chest. “What happened to your mom?”
“I killed her.” The other replied, smiling up at Yoonbum. Bum dropped his hands and backed away from Sangwoo. Apparently he was more dangerous than he thought. Being a rapist was already dangerous, but he definitely didn’t expect him to have murdered his own mother. Bum wondered if Sangwoo had any other curve balls that he wanted to throw at him.
Bum stayed quiet, until a little, “I-I see…” was uttered out of his lips. The two went back to cooking in silence. He wasn’t sure what to do with this new information, except think of ways to protect himself. Maybe a giving Sangwoo a knife wasn’t such a great idea, even if it was just a butter knife. As ridiculous as it sounded, he had heard of people killing others with spoons before. But Bum made sure to keep a close eye on the other, never wavering.
After a bit, they had the food ready, and a tiny stand was placed on the floor for Sangwoo as Bum ate at the table. He watched him as he ate, picking at the food with his chopsticks. “So Sangwoo…” The other’s attention turned to him as he chewed, “How did… how did you kill your mother?” Sangwoo peered back down to his food. | 707afa08ce70439680cfc04aef044d11 | ['a97c41bebcc64891ba96ec00312efe3f'] | **Summary for the Chapter:**
> Sangwoo takes Bum somewhere special.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> hey y'all!! sorry i'm so late with this chapter, ah.. i've been so busy ugh. i'll try to update more frequently!! anyways, please enjoy!
“Strumming my pain with his fingers, singing my life with his words, killing me softly with his song…” Singing drifted softly throughout the house, it being the only noise against the silence of the morning. The sun was rising over the neighborhood, it’s rays illuminating the vacated houses around his own. His uncle had specifically chosen this neighborhood for when Yoonbum moved in with him, as your screams can’t be heard if there’s no one to hear it. He liked to be left alone, and that’s easy enough when you have no pesky neighbors. The house was a suffocating reminder of the abuse that had taken place there, but Yoonbum remained because it was already paid off. It seemed like his Uncle had come back to torture him from beyond the grave when a man came into his basement all those months ago.
In comparison to the brightness outside, his room was dim. Their shapes could hardly be made out against the darkness. They held each other close, as Bum had his head buried in Sangwoo’s chest. “Don’t you love that song, Bum? I sang it just for you, so you should.” Hot whispers brushed against Bum’s ear, and he shook at the feeling of them. He didn’t reply back, deciding to focus Sangwoo’s abs instead. He still exercised even though he was disabled, but there were certainly limits to it. Bum often had to help him since Sangwoo blamed his pain on him (which was true) if he didn’t. “Still not talking to me, huh? Remember what would happen when I did something you didn’t like?” Sangwoo growled, and suddenly his hands were upon Yoonbum, shaking him violently. It only took Bum a few seconds to cry out in a cracking voice, “I liked it!! I loved it!!” The shaking stopped, and Sangwoo took to wrapping his arms around the other’s lower back instead. “Good, good..”
Ever since the incident in the kitchen, Bum profusely refused to talk to Sangwoo unless forced. This was partly because of his depression, and partly because he had learned that talking out of place equaled pain. The wound on the back of his neck was dried up and now scabbing underneath a few layers of surgical gauze. Other things had changed too- they now usually ordered take out (as Bum hated going into the kitchen) and ate it in his bedroom. Yoonbum also stopped going to work almost entirely- he didn’t work a lot before, but now when he was supposed to go in he instead called in sick. Sangwooo didn’t like him to leave, and threatened him if he caught him trying to go out.
Today’s plans were the usual- stay in bed until about eleven, take a shower with Sangwoo, fiddle around if he was forced, call for takeout, then go to sleep again. Yoonbum had little motivation for anything, and felt brain dead most of the time- and quite frankly wanted to be, because at this point that was the only escape he saw viable. But unbeknownst to Yoonbum, today’s plans would be different.
“Bum, I’m going to use your car today.” Sangwoo said to the other. Bum then turned and looked behind him at the other man, an eyebrow raised in question. All he received in response was a smile and dark eyes that peered back in false reassurance.
Soon the two of them were in the shower, Sangwoo sitting and Bum running shampoo through the other’s hair. He wondered why he wanted the car- was he going to leave Bum? That would be sweet relief to him, but it was too good to be true. He had thought about ways to escape Sangwoo before, and the car was one of them, but he knew that the other would surely kill him if he were to be caught. A hand caught onto his wrist, disturbing his thoughts. The perpetrator brought Bum’s hand to his cheek, laying his head into it with a gentle look. Sangwoo had his times when he looked like an angel, innocent and pure. It was that deceit that tricked him into thinking he was one. An angel sent to him to love him.. As if God would ever be so kind to him after what he’d been through.
There was no dicking around today- which was another surprise. Bum’s suspicions soon showed physical side-effects as a drop of sweat rolled down his arm, dampening his long sleeve t-shirt. “Uh.. Um. Sangwoo…” He gulped, watching as the other man pulled on some pants with a little struggle, his chest bare at the moment. Sangwoo had more of his Uncle’s clothes on, which were not befitting to the young twenty-something year old at all. “Mhmm?” A hum was given in response as he pulled on a hoodie. “Where.. What.. what are you using the car for?”
Sangwoo laughed at that. “We’re going on a date. Isn’t that what boyfriends do?” Bum was thoroughly surprised that he wanted to take him anywhere, since there was a possibility for escape. “Oh, um. Okay.” He murmured back.
Soon they were in the car, with Sangwoo driving. It hadn’t been used in about two weeks since Bum had stopped going to work. As they pulled out of the driveway, the light of midday burned his eyes. It was like he was seeing his neighborhood again for the first time. It’s abandoned houses, overgrown bushes, and deserted streets. No children ran about playing, no people walked their dogs, and no mothers rolled along with a stroller.
Sangwoo put the car in reverse, and they began their drive into town. As they went on, the streets became livelier with citizens doing their daily tasks. All of them were so untouchable, so foreign to the likes of Yoonbum. They all had normal lives, jobs, families, and he had nothing. It was surreal to him that something so natural was alien to him. Suddenly the car stopped, and Bum was snapped out of his state of thoughtfulness.
“Bum, go and get those for me.” The driver pointed to a trash pile beside a pole. He squinted, noticing a pair of crutches. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he got out and wandered over to the assortment of waste. This could be his chance- he would dart off as fast as his legs would take him; But Sangwoo, in turn, would quickly catch up to him. He pulled the crutches out and put them in the backseat of the car at Sangwoo’s request, then got back in. The other started driving again, and soon stopped in front of a small store. Inside the windows were puppies, jumping up excitedly and licking the glass. This made Yoonbum even more bewildered. “W-we don’t have room for a dog…” Bum said quietly, thinking of the upkeep an animal required. Why would he want a dog? It made no sense. “Yes we do. In fact, we already have one. Come inside with me Bum.”
What dog? If they had a dog, Bum would’ve noticed. Was he taking care of a stray without him looking? He helped the other onto his crutches and inside, helping him inside the store. “Hello!” The cashier greeted, “Is there anything I can help you with today?” “No, but um, thanks..” Bum tried his best to casually reply, his voice croaking somewhat from his anxiety. “Actually, we do need help. Where do you keep your dog collars?”
After a bit of direction and help, they found the aisle. The cashier, now satisfied, walked off back to their station. “I think purple would look best, don’t you Bum?” He asked the other, picking a collar off a hook. Bum nodded in agreement, not really caring what color it was. He watched as the other unlatched the collar, then put it around Bum’s neck, clicking it into place. “S-Sangwoo?!” Yoonbum squawked, his shock fully evident. Sangwoo chuckled at him, “Did you really think there was an actual dog? You’re the dog, Bum. My dog.” He could only watch in continued horror as he picked out a matching leash, fitting it onto him and giving it a reaffirming pull. “Perfect~” The larger man sung, then took the adornments off his pet to go purchase.
“This is such a pretty color, you chose well.” The cashier said as they took the items from Sangwoo, completely oblivious that they weren’t for a dog. As the two of them talked, Bum walked over to the puppies. They all barked at him with small yaps, being various shapes and sizes. Puppies, as children do, know no pain. It was a crime to hurt something so young with the sins of the world. He reached forward to touch one, rubbing it’s soft fur with his finger tips.
Out of the corner of his eye, Bum noticed as a man dressed in a cat costume came into the pet store. He took off his head and looked at Bum in silence.
**Author's Note:**
> edit: i forgot to mention that sangwoo's house in the manga is yoonbum's house here. |
9ac680e5c63348d48980efb7acaa175e | ['a988d4d74e044f6594623c7f23ee665f'] | “Now. While I endeavor to put Samuel into his bed, you _must rest._ ”
“Why should he not stay here?” Will said, stilling her departure with a hand to her arm. “Well, he might wake if he is moved. And he appears quite comfortable to me.”
“If you are sure you do not mind. But you are risking it becoming a habit,” she warned.
At that moment, he could not bring himself to care. Exhaustion had been held at bay by dread and misery, but now that both had been exorcized, now that dawn was approaching, it bore down once again in full force. He and Sarah both scooted with some difficulty to lie down on the bed, she in consequence of the sleeping child in her arms, he because of his aching bruises.
Samuel came to rest between them, his curled fingers landing on Will’s arm. William looked down at them, acutely aware that this was the first time they’d ever touched.
_This is to be my son_ , he thought incredulously.
Tenderly he reached out and brushed his fingertip across the little hand, astonished at how soft Samuel’s skin was. And though it was difficult to be objective given how many features the boy shared in common with the woman he loved, Will nevertheless thought him a truly beautiful child.
He stared at the baby for some time before feeling Sarah’s eyes upon him. Glancing up, he saw that she was watching him intently, looking both puzzled and amused.
“What?” he said, ill at ease.
She paused before answering him.
“What was that before? Before all this discussion. When…Samuel interrupted?”
Will looked down at the bedclothes, his face growing hot. So she had not forgotten after all.
“It was only…something perhaps to try,” he stammered out.
“You were going to put your mouth…there?”
His reply came in a mumble. “I thought it might be pleasing to you.”
She raised her eyebrows. “And was this something _you_ wished to do?”
What he wished to do was to bury his face in the pillow and hide from this line of questioning. But instead, he answered with as little awkwardness as possible, “Only if you wouldn’t mind.”
Sarah considered, her face taking on a mock studious air. “You know, I don’t think that I would…mind.”
And although he could see that she was teasing him, her admission was clearly genuine, and it made her look away in embarrassment. So he quickly turned the tables.
Peering up at her from beneath his brows, Will fixed her in his most sultry gaze. Given the state of his bruised, sleep-deprived and tear-streaked face, he doubted his appearance would contribute to his allurements, but the texture crying had leant to his voice gave it a velvet quality as he spoke.
“Shall I resume?”
It worked even better than he had anticipated.
She shook her head, blushing furiously, completely unable to meet his eyes. “Good _night_ , Will.”
He grinned and kissed her before turning to extinguish the bedside candles.
Settling down once more, William peered into the dark space before him to see Sarah, clutching Samuel, close her eyes. He snaked his arm from around her waist up to clasp her shoulder, creating a bower above the child.
His last thoughts as slumber quickly overtook him were that his fears of Sarah’s departure had indeed been driven away... he had the best assurance of all that she would stay. Not because he had entrapped her, not because she was in need of him, but because she had chosen it. When facing an impossible dilemma, she had insisted on a third choice, and had fought to secure it. She intended to have all her loves, that much was certain.
_And,_ thought Will, yawning, _So do I._ | 96811721d4a84cb78186051fb3ca92a0 | ['a988d4d74e044f6594623c7f23ee665f'] | It had been weeks of that, of the distance growing between them, each at a loss to remedy the situation. Both knew what burden the other labored under: The public disgrace and censure, their poverty, Sarah’s loss of Samuel and her baptism by fire into the role of housewife (without the advantage of being respectably married), Sir Arthur’s rancor, the stalling of Will’s career by professional ostracism, and his inability to fulfill even the modest promise to Sarah, that although he could not give her what her husband had, they would “be well together.” They were equally loathe to bring these matters to the other’s attention, not wanting to add to their lover’s burden, and fearing the truth of how much anguish their association had caused the other.
So together, they suffered alone.
There had still been love, still tenderness and a powerful affection – but also a growing sense of dread that had thickened into a physical presence in their small dwelling – a feeling that perhaps it was never meant to be. That, try as they might, happiness with each other was beyond their reach. The world and its vicissitudes had seen to that.
Most of these difficulties still remained. But if they could have Samuel, Sarah thought, if they truly could, then the balance had shifted. Any challenges that remained were nothing now. With her loved ones near, she had the strength to do anything.
And what she wanted to do at the moment was celebrate with William. She wished to banish all sorrow or fear or guilt, and deliciate in his warm embrace.
When she had been in hiding, and he had found her, had emerged from the woods, appearing like a dream, she had only allowed herself a brief respite in his arms. What she had wanted to do, had _yearned_ to do then was quite different. She had wanted to run to him and hold him fast, to take his hand and lead him into the cottage, to the narrow bed if they had they could reach it, the floor if not. She had wanted to divest him of his travel-dusty clothes and rain kisses down upon him, to stroke his long hair, and hear his breath quicken, to feel his hands on her bare skin as he entered her. And as he did so, she would have leaned down and whispered in his ear of the new life that grew inside her, of the life that together they had kindled.
What had then been forbidden to her was now permissible, and the secret she had held back was bursting through her veins.
Sarah pulled away, smiling at William with warm affection.
He looked back expectantly, his countenance open, questioning.
She had practiced in her mind all the different ways in which she would broach the subject with him, but she had not the memory, nor the patience to recall.
So without preamble, she simply said, “I am to have your child.”
William stared at her lips for some time, perhaps not believing that the words they had formed were the same as those he had heard. He glanced up to her eyes for confirmation.
She raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips.
_Surprise!_
Surprised did not even begin to describe his expression. Will let out a stunned laugh, and Sarah could not help joining in. He looked ever so adorable in his astonishment. She knew that his appearance in this moment would be forever captured in her mind’s eye, thereafter a sweet remembrance.
He laughed again, bringing his forehead to hers. Surprise still won out over any other feeling displayed in his features, but of the space that remained, Sarah could see, happiness was supreme.
She counted his reaction as yet another relief, and before he could begin a deluge of questions, she pulled at his neck once more and kissed him soundly. She had slid somewhat lower as a consequence of his shock in hearing her news, so he again boosted her up in his arms, leaning closer to press his mouth to hers.
Sarah was gratified to observe that whatever his thoughts were on learning of his impending fatherhood, it had not dimmed his ardor even by a slight measure.
They swayed now in concert, moving together as one. The need, the hunger for reconnection had grown stronger than ever.
Sarah reached down between their bodies and found a button on his breeches. Will did not seem to notice until she had unfastened it and slipped her hand inside.
“Mmmm,” he groaned against her lips. Pulling away, he panted, “Here? But— ” He gazed heatedly at her.
And whether it was because he forgot his objection, or Sarah’s lips did beckon, or what she was doing to him was sufficiently distracting, he never did finish that sentence.
His mouth once more met hers, and Sarah continued to unbutton, reaching beneath her once more to caress the contents of his trousers.
He paused for a moment, pulling away to meet her gaze. Then suddenly he hiked her up the wall, settling her on one arm, and began gathering up her skirts with the other.
It was awkward work, trying to maintain their balance whilst pulling all that material out of the way. Sarah laughed at Will as he clucked his tongue in frustration, and assisted as best she could with her clothing. Her hem was caught between them, and once freed, seemed determined to fall back into place just to spite them.
But, at the first opportunity, Will got his hands under her skirts and resettled her bare skin against his forearm, resting it flush against the wall. As well as he could given the demands of holding them both upright, he brushed his thumb across her sensitive skin, and, after running his free hand under the length of her thigh, gently parted her lips with his fingertips, caressing not quite as leisurely as he usually did. |
d917941c1be049fd93a5888dd41a4ee9 | ['a995703a66584670b108664dc58e5b7f'] |
1. Chapter 1
**Author's Note:**
> This was originally posted on ff.net under my username reneliz. For anyone who is reading this here who is familiar with it from there, I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING IN THREE YEARS OMG. I'm an awful terrible person! Also, you might want to reread the previous chapters because I have gone through them all and made some revisions. Nothing major, just grammar and other things. But it has been three years, so you may want to read them again to refresh your memory anyways.
>
> To anyone new, welcome! I promise that I won't go three years without updating again! I have a plot outline planned out for the rest of the story, so this should go relatively smoothly *knocks on wood*
“Edmund?” Lucy called for the third time, getting no more response than she did the first time.
She sighed, feeling the frustration build up as he continued to stare off into space and ignore her, and snapped – she clapped her hands loudly right in front of his face. He didn’t jump, but he did give her his attention, even though he was looking at her rather dully, no expression on his face.
“Yes, Lucy?” he asked automatically, not responding to the worry on her face. He never did anymore – he was used to it. He was used to all of it.
When Edmund, Lucy and Eustace returned from Narnia after their experiences on the Dawn Treader, they were all different people.
Lucy was the least changed out of the three. She was still her kind, sweet, and valiant self, but she had a new sense of self-confidence that only an experience in Narnia could bring her. Her encounter with “The Oppressor” as the Dufflepuds had named him, also known as Coriakin, and his book of spells taught her of her own worth, by showing what would happen if she became her sister and lost herself. Ever since then, the self-doubt and consciousness of appearance that is so common with the teenage years seem to have gone away, or at least lessened. Lucy was a better young lady for it.
Eustace was dramatically changed. Gone was the whiney and self-centered child, and in his place was a mature and brave adolescent, who would do anything and everything for his family. Although his parents thought Lucy and Edmund had corrupted their child, that was not the case. Even though being turned into a dragon wasn’t usually a positive experience for most people, it was for Eustace. In order to change back, he had to let go of his greed and selfishness that led him into his current predicament in the first place, and – like Lucy – was a better person for it.
Edmund, on the other hand, had not changed in a good way at all. Sure, while in Narnia he was able to mature and let go of old insecurities like his fear of Jadis, the White Witch, but once they had returned, it was a different story. He had gotten pushed in the subway station when they were taking a trip into a different part of London, and instead of the apology and bow customary in Narnia, he had received a sneer and an additional push. It was like that one experience had brought reality crashing down on him.
Edmund had suddenly realized that he was a nobody. Not a king, not a member of any form of government or army, not even a man. He was just a middle-class school boy. This struck a chord of worthlessness deep within himself that he didn’t even know he had. He had been able to deal with it the other two times because he had known with absolute certainty that he would be going back. He would be able to experience that feeling of importance again in Narnia, because Aslan had told him that he was going back, and Aslan had never once lied to him.
His sister and cousin knew this, because he had told them right when he first realized, mainly because of the shock of his realization and because they were present. If they hadn’t been there, he would have told anyone who would listen, be it the wall or the whole city of London. But ever since that one confession, he had cut himself off.
Edmund would no longer reply to Susan and Peter’s letters from America, he wouldn’t speak to Lucy, Eustace, or anyone else unless asked a direct question. He refused any and all advances from friends and people interested in dating him. He floated along in school, doing what was required of him and nothing more, earning a steady C-average.
Recently, he had started letting other things go, as well, such as personal hygiene and meals. He had been eating small portions, only eating more when forced. Lucy had been watching over him like a hawk and his siblings’ letters had gotten frantic. Despite Lucy’s prodding and urging for him to eat, he did not do so. He had lost a significant amount of weight, and it had not gone unnoticed by his sister.
Edmund didn’t even understand the point anymore. Why was he even trying? What was his purpose in life beyond Narnia? He was nothing without Narnia and the things he achieved there. There was nothing he could do here in this world that would even come close to his Narnian accomplishments. He had recently been considering giving up the fight altogether. Avoid Lucy and Eustace, constant painful reminders of Narnia that they were – hell, why not just run away? That would be the best form of avoidance. He wouldn’t need money because he didn’t plan on eating and he wouldn’t last long enough for it to be necessary to pay for shelter.
There was also another reason that he had for his depression. One that he had told no one about and barely even admitted to himself. | 780a2638298e4779b4673e33e51a1462 | ['a995703a66584670b108664dc58e5b7f'] | “Well I figure that since you’re going to be here for a while,” Hopefully, he added silently, “you should have your own horse. And I felt like you and this horse would be a great pair.”
Suddenly, Caspian’s arms were filled with a happy young man. He was just barely able to keep hold of the horses’ reins through his shock, but he quickly wrapped his arms around Edmund to return the hug.
“Thank you.” Edmund said, his words slightly muffled from where his face was pressed into the crook of Caspian’s neck.
“You’re very welcome.” He gave Edmund one last squeeze before regretfully stepping back. Any more of Edmund’s lips moving against his neck as he spoke, and his body was going to betray him.
“So. What are you going to name her?”
“She doesn’t already have a name?” Edmund asked.
“No, we just recently acquired her and none of the names I’ve considered seemed to fit. But now I’m grateful for that, because that means you can decide.”
Edmund gave Caspian a shy smile before turning his full attention back onto the – no, _his_ – horse. He considered her for a long moment before speaking, his voice strong and sure.
“Jasmine.”
“That’s a good name. Would you like a lift up into the saddle?”
Caspian was given a withering look for this suggestion. “I may be shorter than you, and I may have not been here in a while, but I’m hardly incompetent. I don’t need a lift.”
Sure enough, Edmund swung into the saddle with ease, looking down at Caspian with a smug smile.
“Are you coming?” Edmund asked.
And with that he was off, urging his horse into a trot as Caspian stood there smiling stupidly at the sight. Only the black stallion, Erus, shifting in place broke him out of his reverie.
He quickly got himself into the saddle, and set off after Edmund, calling out, “Get back here, Ed!”
He was met with only laughter. |
3af246bd62ee45bd91222c58f457c004 | ['a9a2f157b75342f9bde0c7f45c5a2e92'] | “They’re all here?” He questioned. He started muttering each of their names to confirm it. “They’re… all _actually_ here…!” Infinite quickly turned his head to Gadget as he looked at him with hopeful eyes.
Gadget smiled and stood beside him as Infinite rose to his feet.
“How… did you manage to-…” Infinite seemed like he couldn’t find the right words. He seemed to be at the verge of tearing up. Gadget simply answered away.
“Remember when I said we found files about you and your squad?” Gadget said guiltily but still continued. “We ended up using that information and track down their bodies. Now they’re all here. _Safe and sound._” Gadget then turned to Shadow who was leaning against a tree nearby with crossed arms. “And it was all thanks to Team Dark”
Infinite brows furrowed and turned to face Shadow. “_Why_…?”
Shadow looked down before pulling himself up and stand in front of Infinite.
_“I’m sorry”_
There was a moment of silence between them. Infinite seemed to be taken aback by the apology from Shadow but the hedgehog continued.
“I’m aware that a simple apology from me won’t bring them back.” Shadow clarified. “But this is the least I could do for your lost”
Infinite clutched his fist. He didn’t reply and simply crossed his arms while looking away. Shadow stared at him with a blank face. He ducked his head a little before turning to the direction of the city and walked away. But somehow, Shadow stopped his tracks.
“I know the feeling…” He said as he turned his head little to look back. “I… once lost someone important.”
Infinite stared at him with a solemn face before looking down and sighed. “I want a _rematch_”
_Eh?_ Gadget watched confusedly.
Shadow scoffed. “Focus on repairing the world. _Then_, a rematch” With that, Shadow walked away and left them.
Gadget finally joined the jackal at his side.
“He’s cocky” Infinite twitched.
“T-that’s Shadow for you” Gadget chuckled nervously.
“_Thank you_, Gadget…” he said sincerely. “For _everything_…”
Gadget looked at him with widen eyes before smiling widely. “You’re welcome” He then cleared his throat. “I don’t know about you but I’m split between liking this side of you or the you that always keep shouting at my face. Either way, you’re interesting to be around” Gadget laughed light-heartedly.
“Do you want me to keep shouting at your face, wolf?” Infinite narrowed his eyes in annoyance.
“Well, one thing for sure, I prefer you calling by my name than just simply ‘_wolf_’”
Infinite snorted at that statement. He then looked to the side as if he was thinking. Gadget stared at him for a while. He shrugged and then walked forward.
“Come on, Infinite. It’s already sunset.”
It's been a long day for Gadget but he finally able to settle everything for Infinite. He was able to convince him to take the second chance. He managed to gain his trust and get along with him. Build his sword and gears. And now, reunite him with his jackal squad. Even better that he seemed to managed to make both Infinite and Shadow reconciled with each other. Another mission accomplished. So many baby steps he took. And he never imagined he would finally be at ease.
“It’s Zero”
Gadget stopped his tracks and turned to Infinite with a quizzical expression. Their eyes met and Infinite smiled as the wind gently blew against their fur. There was a moment of silence between them before Infinite spoke once more.
“It’s Zero the Jackal from now on”
Gadget’s heart fluttered and he smiled brightly. It’s been almost a month of emotional roller coaster between them. Gadget managed to get to where he is now with Infinite. And he hoped that everything will be better after this. For now, he could pat himself at the back and tell himself that the jackal finally opened up to him. He finally made his former enemy... his ally.
“Alright.” Gadget held up his hand and reached out to him. “Let’s go home, _Zero._”
**END OF CHAPTER 8**
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Shout out to pajama_cats LINK
>
> Sorry about that. No kisses between Infinite and Gadget. They're friends now but too early to advance to lovers. But but but... you can feel the implication of both of their feelings for each other. *EVIL LAUGH* | 46775b4409fd46e794c2ecc342029a1f | ['a9a2f157b75342f9bde0c7f45c5a2e92'] | Infinite seemed to be frustrated as he scratched his head irritably before slumming his body back on the bed. “Fucking _fine_, I’ll think about it.”
Gadget was thrilled. A giant smile was carved onto his face.
“Wipe that smile off your face” Infinite said in annoyance. “Or I'll claw you.”
Gadget’s mood went to the other side of the spectrum. This is going to take a while. He knew gaining his trust would be a challenge. This is what he signed up for and he won’t back down. He’ll see this through no matter what.
* * *
Infinite couldn’t believe himself that he’d succumb to the wolf’s devil contract. He crossed his arms and mumbled grumpily before Gadget spoke out.
“Anyways, do you want something to eat? It’s almost lunch time” the wolf offered.
Infinite still thinks this is an act of pity.
“No”.
But unfortunately, his stomach failed him and releases a loud growl. He could feel his cheeks burning a little when Gadget snickered.
“Alright. I’ll get you something. Be right back” Gadget stood up. Infinite watched him walked to the exit until he stopped midway.
“Oh, and if you ever try to escape-…”
“I’m not a fucking idiot” Infinite cut him off and the wolf smiled nervously.
“R-right! Anyways, sit tight.”
The wolf finally exited the room and Infinite was able to breath normally. He rested his head properly onto the pillow and sighed.
He might as well go along with this since it’s obvious which options he’ll choose.
It’s not like he has anything to _lose_ now.
He immediately shut his eyes as his chest tightens. It must have been the wound but… **_It only hurts if he lets it._**
* * *
Gadget didn’t expect it would go well. Yet, he managed to convince Infinite to think about it. He entered the room with a tray consisting of two bowls of soup and two glasses of milk. He looked up to see Infinite sitting up from the bed. Was he napping?
“I brought you potato soup” Gadget sat where he placed the stool in the first place and offered a bowl to Infinite.
Infinite’s eyes narrowed. “You put poison in there, didn’t you?”
_How hostile can he be!?_ Gadget rolled his eyes and exasperatedly sighed. He pulled back the bowl and took a spoon on the tray to scoop the soup. He shoved it in his throat.
“…”
Nothing happened. _Of course, nothing happened, obviously._
_ _
Gadget offered the bowl of soup once more. Infinite stared at him skeptically before taking the bowl. Infinite then held up his hand as a sign to give him a spoon. Gadget snorted and gave him the spare spoon. Both of them started to eat their respective lunch quietly.
To Gadget’s curiosity, he took several glances to make sure Infinite was enjoying his food. And to his surprise, he caught a glimpse of him with a small smile on his face. His chest fluttered.
Gadget wondered if he ever had good food throughout his life. The soup was nothing special but it seemed to him that it was enjoyable enough. What did he eat while he was in the mercenary squad? Or did Eggman ever fed him properly?
Now he sounds like a mom worrying about her child.
_Urgh._
But the thought of it made him misses his mother now.
* * *
“It’s rude to stare” Infinite spoke out and it jolted Gadget to his senses.
“S-sorry… just don’t mind me”
“Why are you here, wolf? Shouldn’t you be eating with your other Resistance members rather than sitting here with your enemy?”
“I was assigned to watch over you on the first shift. The other members will switch with me when my shift ended.”
Just _fucking_ great. Infinite wished he didn’t ask. It was already annoying to sit this through with the wolf but the rest of the members in the Resistance? They were treating him like he was a lost child.
He drank his milk.
“Oh, by the way, Infinite. The milk is poison.”
“**_PFFFT!_**”
**END OF CHAPTER 2**
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Shout out to infinitethejackal LINK, inspirations of the Soup Scene.
3. Simple Progress
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> I had to sneak in a Persona 5 reference because I love Persona 5.
>
> Disclaimer: Sonic and all related characters are property of SEGA.
It’s been days Infinite was under the surveillance of the Resistance. Unlike the other Resistance members, he grew more accustomed and more tolerance when it comes to Gadget. Most of the time, the wolf would come into the room around lunch time and they have lunch together. There are times during night, he would come in and play some games with him while the rest were either the grey hedgehog or the pink hedgehog that would check on his health condition. On occasional times, it would be the blue hedgehog that comes to check on him and crack jokes with him. He hated Sonic but at least it wasn’t Shadow and he was glad he didn’t have to meet him.
Infinite gave a boring stare as he held up two old maid cards on his hand. Gadget seemed to be so focus on the game as he only have one card in his hand; the old maid. It’s almost the end game and the wolf takes this _way_ too seriously.
“Any time now, wolf” Infinite stated impatiently.
“It’s a lot easier if you weren’t that much of a poker face” the wolf pouted. Somehow the sight of him made Infinite glee internally. _Is he seriously enjoying this now? Enjoying his company?_
The wolf finally picked his card from Infinite’s hand.
“Ah hah!” but Gadget’s triumphed face turned into a sour one. “Urgh! I got the old maid” He slumped his face on the bed. |
69b48f9de9904938a2258e8926ac3584 | ['a9b1a6dba24d408b81b2833630f1d3f2'] | Enough of this. Time to get his head back in the game. Through his gauntlet-portable he deactivated the Nightcycle's security systems and started its engine while surreptitiously scanning his surroundings. His thorough search of the area around Furinkan High had netted nothing to excite his suspicions, but that did not mean the spy from last night would not come. He was turning into the alley where the Nightcycle was parked when he caught movement on a nearby rooftop, one offering an excellent view of the high school. He mounted the cycle, activated its whisper mode and carefully drove a circuitous route to the building. Luck was not with him – no one was there, and he found not even the slightest clue anyone had ever been there.
Ranma frowned thoughtfully as he drove back to the penthouse, wondering who else besides Kuno could be interested in Akane. Further investigation was in order.
* * *
Kozaku took a deep breath as she was admitted into the inner sanctum, steeling herself to deliver her report. Nightwing had come close to discovering her last night – only her superior knowledge of Nerima had kept her from being discovered. Walking past her sisters in the Elite Guard, she knelt before the dais where her mistress sat. She removed the crimson scarf covering her face, laid her short sword on the floor and bowed her head respectfully.
"Report," her mistress commanded.
"There is a complication," said Kozaku.
A dangerous pause. "Explain."
Kozaku swallowed. "Tatewaki Kuno had followed the new compulsions I introduced to him to increase his pressure on Akane Tendo. Last night he managed to arrange an ambush for her when she left the house for a walk, and I followed to observe. Someone interfered in the following fight, helping Tendo beat her attackers and defeated Kuno himself in single combat."
"Who? Between the Kuno's wealth and our own influence we have isolated the girl from any possible aid in this ward."
Kozaku took another deep breath. A bead of cold sweat trickled down the back of her neck. "Nightwing, my lady."
Her mistress hissed explosively and struck the arm of her throne. "What is _he_ doing in Japan?"
"I do not know. However, it is the land of his birth, my lady."
"A land he has not returned to in six years. Why is he here _now,_ and in _Nerima_ of all places?" She hissed again. Kozaku could feel her eyes blazing. "You have further bad news?"
"Unfortunately yes, my lady. Nightwing appeared at Furinkan High School this morning and intervened in the morning fight. He thoroughly cowed all the young men of the school. They have forsworn all further pursuit of Tendo, and I think even Kuno will be reluctant to attack her for the next few days, despite his obsession."
Another lethal silence passed. "Did Saotome see you?"
Kozaku shook her head. "No, my lady, though he is aware that someone is watching Tendo. I managed to escape him, though it was a close thing. I dared not attempt to kill him – not without informing you first."
"You acted wisely, Kozaku, for you would have failed and revealed my presence in Japan. Nightwing is far beyond you. I dislike the brat, but the prowess of my beloved's protege is not to be despised." Kozaku heard her mistress sigh gustily. "We will withdraw for the moment. The last thing I wish is to attract Bruce's attentions at this delicate stage. But neither will I abandon a century's worth of careful toil because of that wretched urchin. We will watch from a distance, and await Saotome's next move. I hold you blameless in this, Kozaku, my servant. You have done well."
Despite her discipline Kozaku let out a brief sigh of relief. "Thank you, my mistress," she said fervently.
"Go. I must contemplate this development." Kozaku stood, bowed and withdrew.
Talia al Ghul's lovely face was impassive as she watched Kozaku depart, but within herself she seethed. Desiring solitude, she dismissed her bodyguard. Once alone, she slumped in her throne, folding her hands before her pursed lips as she brooded over this unexpected, unwelcome complication to her plans.
7. Chapter 7
Shadows Over Nerima
by
Jeremy Harper
Disclaimer – Ranma ½ is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi. Batman is the creation of Bill Finger and Bob Kane. Both are used without permission.
Chapter 6
"An arranged marriage?" said Wally West in disbelief. "An arranged marriage to one of three girls you've never met before?"
"Yup," said Ranma. He threw an Escrima stick, ricocheting it off three targets set on the gym's walls. He caught it on the rebound, spun on his heel and threw the stick at targets set on the opposite wall.
"Isn't that a bit, ah, old fashion?"
"You mean Stone Age." Ranma caught the returning stick, spun it in his hand and sat down Indian-style on the floor with a grunt. He looked at the holographic display showing his three friends gathered in the rec room of Titan Tower. "Yeah, it is. But since the old bastard is a cave man it suits him just fine."
"So, are these sisters hot?" Roy Harper asked.
"Roy!" chided Donna Troy.
"What?"
Ranma shook his head. "You know Roy, I find it oddly comforting that, no matter what the situation, I can always count on you to think with your dick."
"Hey, I'm just looking for a silver lining here. It'd be totally worse if your old man engaged you to some heinous bohog."
"So, a woman's looks are the only thing that matters?" Donna said stiffly.
"Aw Donna, I didn't mean it like that!"
"Then what exactly did you mean?"
"Uh..."
"I think you should quit before you dig yourself in any deeper," murmured Wally. | 1ccb2e04cf1a4e3aaf7dda5646c6cc66 | ['a9b1a6dba24d408b81b2833630f1d3f2'] | _So_ **that's** _why her name sounds familiar,_ Marinette thought, pursing her lips tightly. _She's one of those costume crazies that run around Gotham City in America._ She knew she was being ungenerous – from what she could recall, Catwoman was a thief, not a super-villain. She tried not to hurt anyone too bad during the commissions of her thefts, and, despite her flamboyance, kept a relatively low profile. But Marinette was in no mood to be generous. She was annoyed, her face still hot from embarrassment and her temper stung by the arrogant dismissal of her and Cat Noir's abilities. She glanced at her partner out of the corner of her eyes, noting an angry frown on his face, and that his hands were clenched in tight fists.
“You're a bit far from Gotham, aren't you?” Marinette asked caustically.
Catwoman shrugged. “What can I say? I find travel to be... _broadening._ ” She grinned and traced the outline of her curves with her palms.
“And you think _I'm_ a flirt, my Lady,” Cat Noir muttered _sotto voce_. “If you hadn't noticed, I'm not Batman and she's not Nightwing.”
“You're certainly not! You, handsome kitten, are blond and bright instead of dark and brooding, and while Nightwing is indeed a hot young thing, he doesn't have the curves to rock a leotard the way Ladybug here does.” She winked flirtatiously at Marinette, blowing her a kiss.
“Will you _please_ stop that?” Marinette demanded, a hint of a whine creeping into her voice. She was very tired of blushing.
“But you two are just so fun to tease!” Catwoman said with a laugh.
Cat Noir cleared his throat. “I think it's time for you to go.”
“And if I don't?”
“Then I guess we'll have ourselves a good old fashion catfight.”
“You really want to go down that route? I can think of better ways the three of us could spend our time together.” Cat Noir blinked, then blew out his breath sharply, as if suddenly punched in the stomach. Marinette choked. “Ah well,” Catwoman continued, bowing her head and shaking it slightly. “They say burnt fingers are the best teachers.”
Marinette was not prepared for just how _fast_ Catwoman was. She had sensed no magic on the costumed thief, not like she could feel radiate off of akuma victims if she concentrated, but in truth Catwoman possessed a powerful magic – the magic of phenomenal physical talent, intensive training, and experience hard earned from conflicts against some of the most dangerous men and women on Earth. Her left arm blurred; Marinette shrieked in surprise as a flexi-steel bola entangled her legs. She flailed wildly in an attempt to keep her balance and fell forward, bringing her arms up just in time to keep from planting her face into the concrete.
“Ladybug!” Cat Noir shouted, turning for a split second to his partner. A loud crack split the night air, Catwoman's bullwhip snapping out and coiling around his ankles. The thief yanked her whip hard with both hands. The young man yowled as he was pulled off his feet and sent crashing down on his back, stars hazing his vision. Catwoman raced away, running north across the jewelry store roof and leaping across the alleyway to the adjacent building, amused, mocking laughter trailing behind her.
Cat Noir groaned, shaking his head free of pain. He rolled over and quickly crawled over to Marinette. She had rolled onto her back and was struggling to free herself from the bola.
“Let me,” he said. A clawed hand flashed, cutting the bola to pieces. “Are you all right, LB?”
“No, I'm not!” she snapped. “That... that... that.... _ooooh!_ ” She grimaced furiously and executed a windmill kip-up. “After her, Cat!”
Cat Noir nodded, his own face sharp with an angry scowl. “Right behind you, my Lady.”
Catwoman had a three block lead when they started, blazing like black lightning across the rooftops of Paris, and again Marinette found herself shocked by the woman's physical ability. Marinette gritted her teeth as she redoubled her own efforts to catch up with the thief, while her partner had gone on all fours to give himself extra speed. They managed to close the distance by a block when Catwoman veered right and leaped prodigiously into the air, flying across the street. She lashed out with her whip, catching a cornice and swinging herself in an arc, somersaulting onto another rooftop and continuing to run without a misstep.
“Damn, she's good!” Cat Noir snarled.
“Yeah, but we're better!” Marinette called back. They followed, executing their own crossing with yo-yo and baton, continuing the chase. They ran for another minute, gaining another half-block. Catwoman glanced quickly over her shoulder; Marinette saw a flash of white teeth and nearly stumbled when a flash of insight flared through her thoughts – Catwoman honestly _enjoyed_ being chased. The costumed thief jumped again, spinning in the air to face the two young heroes. She gave them a mocking wave as she plummeted into an alleyway, breaking line-of-sight.
Marinette and Cat Noir leaped down after her, breaking their falls with the applications of their weapons, landing with soft grunts. They looked around the darkened alleyway, seeing no sign of their quarry.
“Any idea where she went?” Cat Noir asked. Marinette did not answer immediately, her face scrunched in concentration. She thought she heard distant footfalls fading to the south.
“This way,” she said, starting to run.
“Ladybug, wait!” Cat Noir grabbed her from behind, yanking her to a stop.
“Cat, what are you doing?” she demanded.
“Wait,” he repeated, letting her go and turning around, scurrying down the alley and snatching something off the ground. He held out his hand toward his partner. A twisted piece of blackened metal rested in his palm. “Caltrops,” he said grimly. “She scattered them all over this end of the alley.” |
314b3cedcbf747e4a4a0d9d030aa8da9 | ['a9c43fd91e614f0fa9af8c425a5de108'] | Castiel's Inner Monologue
**Author's Note:**
> This takes place in the time Castiel spends at the hospital during season 7.
_Time really doesn't heal; it just blurs things._
I have never before thought this way. I have never heard these words uttered, in all my long years of existence. I have never worried about this, I have never thought about this. This have never even crossed my mind. At least, that was until that one fateful evening when everything that had happened in the past came flying back at me.
I have done bad things, things I am not proud of. When I was doing those things, I believed they were good, right. Now, as I sit here on this bed and try to hide myself from the agony, I realize my mistake.
I was once told to never change. The man who told me that is, and will now always be, the most important person to me. He taught me things, things I never would have learned if I had not met him the way I did. The bad things I did, I did because I thought it would save him and his family; would protect them from the evils of the world. I did not listen to him when he told me what I was doing was wrong. I changed. I lost him.
Now, as I look back on what I remember, I notice things. Things I may never would have noticed before, if it weren't for that night. That night is what brought me here; that night is what brought the beginnings of my forgiveness. That night is what brought him back.
As I have said, there are things I have done that I would never have done years ago, when I first arrived. But those decisions I made, while they may have been poor ones, were mine to make. I did not have anyone telling me what to do, anyone ordering me where to go. I was free to do as I pleased. I believe that may be the reason my decisions ended so poorly; I was drunk on the power and thrill of free will. That will not happen again. I swore to myself on that day that I would never hurt him again.
So now I will sit here; now I will wait. I will wait for the day that he comes back for me. I will wait for the day where I am to be forgiven. I will wait patiently, and while I wait, I will deal with the burden I have given myself, attempt to heal myself, and try to have faith.
That day I stopped believing in myself, but I will never stop believing in him. | 5994e06682d14634810c0a5bd2cc4433 | ['a9c43fd91e614f0fa9af8c425a5de108'] | Hold On To Me
Dean walked into the house covered in snow and ice.
“It’s fucking freezing out there,” he swore, and he removed his coat and boats, and walked into living room. “Cas? Where are you?”
Dean heard a muffled greeting coming from the back of the house, and followed the sound to the library, where Castiel was teetering on a ladder, trying to reach a book on the top shelf.
“What the hell are you doing?” Dean tried to hide his worry under a gruff tone as he walked towards the ladder to try and balance it.
“I’m trying to reach for a book, Dean. Isn’t it obvious?” Castiel responded, in his usual no-nonsense, angelic way.
Dean huffed. “Get down from there, Cas, before you fall and I have to catch you.” He smiled slightly, thinking that that might not be such a bad idea.
Castiel sighed. “I am not incompetent, Dean. I can reach for the book myself.” Just as he reached for the book though, his sock-clad foot slipped, and he tumbled off of the ladder.
Dean caught Cas in his arms, and smirked. “I told you to be careful, Cas.”
Castiel pinched Dean’s arm, but his mouth turned upwards into a slight smile. “Yes, Dean, you were right. Now, will you put me down so that I may try to reach my book again?”
Dean grinned just a little more widely, and placed Cas gently on his feet.
“Thank you-” Cas was shocked mid-sentence, as Dean suddenly grabbed him, threw him over a shoulder, and started walking out of the library.
“Dean, what are you doing? Put me down!” Castiel tried to struggle out of Dean’s grip, but Dean only held on tighter and smiled a little wider.
He climbed the stairs and continued walking until he reached their bedroom, where he finally deposited Castiel on the bed. Castiel frowned slightly, as he watched Dean cross his arms and continue smirking the way only Dean knows how.
“Dean, I am not sure what you are thinking, but I really do need to get that book. It is important-” Castiel stopped talking when he noticed Dean raise an eyebrow at him.
“You don’t know what I’m thinking? Well, Cas, let me give you a hint,” Dean uncrossed his arms, just to cross them the other way. “I come home to find you waggling your ass at me from a ladder, and then falling into my arms. What am I supposed to think, other than you missed me.”
Castiel tilted his head to left, the way he usually does when he is trying to understand something. “It is true that I missed you, Dean, but I was merely trying to reach a book. I did not mean to ‘waggle my ass’ at you, nor did I mean to fall.”
Dean threw his hands up in exasperation, and stalked towards Castiel. “Damn it, Cas. It’s not hard to figure out.” He slowly pushed Castiel down on the bed, following him down. “ I'm freezing cold. I was out in a fucking blizzard, and I come home to find you ‘merely trying to reach a book’.” Dean held his lips just a breath apart from Castiel’s as he continued to speak. “I missed you, Cas. I wanted to come home and be greeted by you. I wanted-”
Castiel slowly lifted his head and shut Dean up with a kiss. Dean groaned slightly, and returned the kiss, deepening it. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s shoulders and continued to press his lips to Dean’s until they had to break away, to breathe. He rested his forehead against Dean’s lightly. “I am sorry Dean. I had planned to greet you when you arrived home, but I did not imagine that it would take so long to find and retrieve a book.”
Dean huffed slightly, and smiled. “It’s fine, Cas, you don’t have to apologize.”
Castiel nodded, and kissed Dean’s chin lightly. “You were not lying when you said you were cold. Let us lie here until your body warms up.”
“Will you continue to hold me until I warm up?”
“Of course, Dean. I will always hold you.” Cas tightened his arms around Dean, and they stayed like that for quite awhile, forgetting about the book until early the next morning. |
ccf22e43eb8d4bdc9017c6b76a05bd63 | ['a9f8966b515449da8fa8d299fdb5c1df'] | “you seem to be a bit under the weather, i hope you didn't catch…..”
You cringe as you braced for the horrible pun that was coming.
“a femur.”
Why was the universe so cruel today? You groaned at the pun, nor in the mood for skeleton humor. Grillby shot a glare at Sans, giving the small skeleton the hint to stop…. But instead the skeleton made another pun, but not at you, but at Grillby. Sans looked at Grillby and smirked mischievously.
“hey you seem rather hot and bothered, is there something wrong?” Sans asked, snorting to hold in laughter at his pun.
“Sans.” Grillby said as a warning.
“I was just wondering what was wrong with (y/n), she doesn't seem to be doing so hot.”
Grillby glared at Sans with a very unamused look. Sans blinked several times, seeing he went over the boundary line. The skeleton looked around awkwardly.
“sorry grillbz.”
Hoo boy. At least that ordeal was over. The skeleton brother didn't say much else to you for the rest of his stay, which lasted for the until his younger brother dragged him out. Sans did however make puns during this time but fortunately none of them were directed towards you or Grillby which made it so much more tolerable.
Eventually, Grillby closed down the bar for the night so you both could get some rest.
\--------
You sat down on the couch, munching on french fries that Grillby had made for you. You were watching one of your favorite movies. Grillby was cooking in the kitchen, as you needed to eat more than just fries to sustain you and your unborn child.
Monster food would likely help, considering normal monsters are made of magic and the baby was undoubtedly going be partially made of magic. Since monster food is magical in nature, it would help prevent serious complications about the magic. Well at least that was what Grillby and you thought. It made sense, and it probably was going to be the case. Considering there's no proven medical knowledge regarding this subject, whatever seems the most logical thing will be the answer. You and Grillby would have to go through this on a trial and error basis.
You munched down on your sandwich that Grillby had brought over to you. He had joined you in sitting on the couch. You watched the television screen and watched as one of the saddest parts of the movie came on and you felt yourself starting to cry a little. This was odd, you weren't the type to cry during movies. Was this the hormones doing this to you? It must be. You set your sandwich back down on the plate on the coffee table in front of you and wiped at your eyes.
Grillby looked at you and sat his bag of chips down on the coffee table before pulling you close to him. You didn't resist. You snuggled into his chest, staining his shirt with your tears.
“I'm sorry--- I don't know why I'm just really emotional right now for some reason… I--” you started to say before the precious flame prince interrupted you.
“Shhh, it's okay.” He whispered, his voice crackling slightly.
One of Grillby’s hands made its way to your head before he ran his warm fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp as he did so.
“Mmmmm.” You let out a noise of contentment.
Grillby chuckled as he listened to your happy noise. He took a few strands of hair between his fingertips and heated them up and began to straighten your hair. You loved when he did this, it was always so relaxing.
You sighed in contentment.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> ..... GIVE ME IDEAS GUYS.
> WHAT SHOULD HAPPEN NEXT?
4. Chapter Four
Sans was confused about why you and Grillby were so sensitive about the puns the other day. It secretly worried him a little, as Sans was one of your closest friends as well as a good friend of Grillby’s. Sans would ask you and your boyfriend directly but he figured you two would find it rude or offensive? Something along those lines. It wasn't any of his business to try to pry but you didn't look like you were doing too well the other day and he wasn't just going to let that pass as if it were nothing. It looks like Sans would have to do some digging and investigating now.
welp. i can't believe i’m doing this.
______________________________
Hoo boy. This was some sort of horrible hell. Seriously, you were puking into a bucket that Grillby placed next you. He told you not to eat the ice cream. He warned you against it. And what do you do?
You eat the ice cream anyway.
You were very stubborn.
The watermelon you ate earlier was thrown up in the bathroom. It seems the baby didn't like watermelon. After that, Grillby came up with the idea that the baby couldn't stand cold food. But you ignored him. And decided to get some ice cream out of your freezer and scoop some in a bowl to eat and completely ignore Grillby’s warnings. You plopped down on the couch with your ice cream and Grillby set a bucket on the floor next to you. You had it set in your mind that you would be watching Netflix for the next several hours, eating this ice cream and other various snacks you loved.
The baby, however, did not like the ice cream and put your little Netflix marathon on hold.
So here you are, looking at a bucket of the ice cream you vomited up. Plus, you felt like shit now because of this.
Grillby shook his head in disappointment. It's amazing how well he’s dealt with you and your stubborn behavior, especially during this pregnancy of yours.
\----------------- | 41ffc749a888419f90c28b2fe908190c | ['a9f8966b515449da8fa8d299fdb5c1df'] | Sans sat down with the some of the members of the former canine unit of Snowdin. It had been a week since the pun incident. He was sitting at a picnic table
“so [y/n] hasn't been doing too well recently.”
“It isn't polite to talk….” Dogamy started to say.
“about others behind their backs.” Dogessa finished her husband’s sentence.
“I don't see this much as gossip. This is more concern than starting rumors.” Doggo interjected.
Sans nodded at Doggo. “i’m asking as a concerned friend if you guys noticed anything unusual with them.”
“She moves differently.” Doggo said, he could only see things that move so the dog remembered everyone's style of movements.
“They also smell a bit different.” Dogamy nodded which earned him a sharp glare from Dogaressa.
Sans nodded a little. “i see. thanks.”
Well, at least it was something to start with. Sans knew he couldn't draw the conclusion of what was going on with [y/n] by this information but it was a good starting point. Maybe if he could get a look at your soul, he could figure this out but it was highly unlikely that he would be able to. Perhaps some of the other regulars have noticed something? Maybe. As much as Sans hated to pry, you didn't give him much reassurance that you were alright.
\----------------------
You angrily munched on fries as you sat on the couch and watched Netflix. This was not your preferred Netflix binge watching food. And it was ruining everything---- maybe not ruining everything but it was making you unhappy.
At least the fries haven't been vomited up yet. You shook your head and made a huffing sound to express your annoyance. You finished munching on your plate of fries and continued to watch your show. It's not like you could do anything else besides this and mess around on the Internet.
However as frustrated you were, you still were excited to have this baby. Despite the fact the baby was already so picky, it was still your child. It was also your fire boyfriend’s child. You didn't even know a monster could get a human pregnant. But this child was a product of your relationship and a precious gift that you didn't expect.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Maybe one day I'll write longer chapters.
**Author's Note:**
> LIKE FIRE
> HELLFIRE
> THIS FIRE IN MY SKIN
> THESE BURNING SENSATIONS...
> ARE TURNING ME TO SIN! |
3b9204e2917d40f9b8ef7ded392adf16 | ['aa0addf1e5d54bee9131f8d411864935'] | It has been 3 weeks since Veronica has called or answered Betty's calls or texts. She's getting worried, she sent dozens of text and got no response. She even tried calling Archie, but it went straight to voicemail.
Tomorrow is the day Betty is supposed to come back to Riverdale.
Back in Riverdale, Veronica has spent day and night in the hospital besides Archie, who's having breakdowns more often then ever.
She's been trying to take care of Archie while she hasn't took an care of herself. She barely sleeps, eats, or even takes showers. Archie barely moves from beside Jughead's side.
Fp burst into room 365 one evening, looking like a mess. You could tell he's been drinking more than usual.
"I've called his mother. She says she's on her way over." He whispers.
"Why in Gods name would you do that? I know you know damn well Jughead fucking despises her. I mean who wouldn't she left him and took his fucking sister, someone he loved deeply. This is why it's so hard for him to love, they all leave him!" Archie roared.
"I just thought she should see her dying son." Fp mumbled.
"DYING?! IM SORRY JUGHEAD IS NOT DYING! SECOND SHE DIDN'T WANT TO SEE HIM BEFORE?! ALL THE TIMES HE WAS IN PAIN?!" He was raging.
"Archie please calm down. You need some rest." Veronica interfered.
"I'm perfectly fine! And so is Jughead, his mom does not need to visit."
"I'm sorry, Fp. He's been acting off lately. Don't take anything to heart of what he says, please." Veronica whispered to Fp. He nodded and quickly left the room.
"Seriously Arch, that's his father. I know you're upset, but please don't take it on other people."
"Well he sure doesn't act like a father." Archie mumbled in Jughead's chest.
Veronica sighed, ignoring his statement. "Well if there anything you need right now?"
"No."
A couple hours later Fp walks into the room, two women with dark hair following him in. It was Jughead's mother and sister.
Glady gasped at the sight of her son, while the younger girl shreiked.
"What the hell happened!" The girl, Jellybean, said running up to her brother.
"Didn't I tell you, Fp, not to bring them." Archie was pissed.
"Archie this his mom and sister. They have the right to see him." Veronica said carefully.
"She sure didn't care about him all those other times he needed her. She just left him with his..." Veronica covered his mouth before he could more damage to the family in front of him.
"Let's step outside and let them have some alone time."
"I'm not leaving him with people he doesn't trust." But it didn't matter for what he has to say, Veronica was already pulling him out of the room.
On her way out Veronica said, "I'm sorry for his behavior Mrs. and Mr. Jones." Before walking out.
"What the hell Archie?!" She was fuming.
"What?! Those people in there are so untrustworthy!"
"That doesn't mean you just talk to that way!" She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. "Look, you haven't gotten proper rest in like 3 weeks, you should-" She was cut off when a beeping sound came from the room they had just left.
Fp came bursting out the room screaming, "NURSE! WE NEED A NURSE!"
Veronica and Archie quickly ran into the room to see what was going on. Veronica saw Jughead shaking in the bed and the heart monitor going at a really quick rate.
"EVERYBODY GET OUT!" A nurse yelled. Veronica, Archie, Jellybean, Glady, and Fp quickly left the room.
"Wha... what's happening to him?" Jellybean whispered.
"He's having a seizure. It's normal for people to have them while in a coma. He's just lucky he only had one this whole time." Veronica explained.
"Oh." Was all Jellybean replied with.
The next day Betty was boarding a plane to New York since Riverdale doesn't have any airports. She'll have to take a bus to Riverdale. She was more nervous than she had been in the last six years. The last time she was this nervous was when Jughead came into her room through her window so bloodied up from a fight concerning the Serpents.
Now here she was on a plane going back to the horrors that was called her life.
It took Betty about 5 hours to get there. She quickly got her bags and went to the bus stop. The bus was already there when she got there, she was so close to missing it, thank God.
On the small trip from New York City to Riverdale, Betty thought of who'd she go and visit first, her parents or her bestfriend that hasn't spoken to her in 3 whole weeks. She decided the latter just to see why Veronica hasn't answered her in so long. Besides she could just surprise her parents that night, she has to stay there anyways.
Betty's thoughts were interrupted when the bus came to a stop. She looked out the window to see to worn out buildings and houses. Something you don't see on the Northside.
Oh Fuck. It's the Southside!
She can't get off here, what if Jughead saw her. Betty quickly went to the front of the bus to the driver.
"Sir, um where would your next stop be?"
"Eh, Greendale." He said gruffly.
Oh shit!
"Um... Well is there anyway that you could stop at-" The driver didn't let her finish as he cut her off.
"Sorry ma'am, no can do. I'm only supposed to go where I'm told."
"But-"
"It doesn't even matter if it's five feet from here."
"Fine." Betty grumbled before walking out of the bus.
She started to quickly walk the way to the Northside. She was 15 minutes into her walk back when she spots a familiar looking figure. It was Veronica. | 076450ba19914f75bf83e1f4fad70055 | ['aa0addf1e5d54bee9131f8d411864935'] | When Jughead wokeup from his alarm, he turned to close it but he stopped when he felt small arms wrapped around him. At first he started to panic but he quickly realized the night before. When he invited Betty to stay with him and he'd drop her at Veronica's early in the morning.
He quickly closed his phone and slipped out of her grip. She mumbled something he didn't hear and went back to sleep.
Jughead got ready for the day and went to wake her from her sleep so she could do so as well.
"Betty." He said softly shaking her so she'd wake up. "Baby wake up we have to go."
"Mmm... But I don't want to go." She whined.
"If you don't get up now, your mom will know you went to the Southside, you don't want that to happen do you?" In the moment she shot out of the bed, now fully awake.
"Nope, definitely not. Oh shit my head hurts like crazy." She said shaking her head.
"That's what you call a hangover, I'll go get you an Advil while you go fix yourself up, so we can leave to-"
"Veronica's" at the he smiled.
"Yeah, Veronica's place."
"Can I keep these." She said gesturing to the clothing she was wearing. He smirked.
"Sure, why not. You look better in them anyways." She smiled.
"Okay, let me clean myself up, I'm a mess."
"A beautiful mess."
A couple of minutes later Betty came back into the small room.
"I hope you don't mind I took these." She was wearing a pair of his black sweatpants.
"Nope" he popped the 'p.' "Not at all."
They went downstairs hand in hand to his car. There was no one inside the bar since it was 6 a.m. in the morning.
"So where is Violet's house exactly."
Betty sighed. "The Pembrooke, do you know where that is?" She didnt even bother correcting him this time, because she knew no matter how much times she'd tell him, he always say it wrong.
"Yes I actually do, do you know she'll be there? If you don't text her now asap."
"After hooking up with someone, she usually goes home around 5 and right now it 6:45, so she'll be home. But I'll call her just in case." Betty grabs her phone and dials Veronica's phone number.
It rings a couple of times before she answers.
"Betty, why are you calling so early?" She says sleepily.
"Well yesterday you bailed on me so I stayed at a friend's. But are you at the apartment yet cause I have to be there before my mom finds out I wasn't actually staying over."
"Yeah, me and Archie got her like an hour ago. Which friend's house did stay at?"
"Doesn't matter. Bye!" Before Veronica could answer Betty ended the call just like how Veronica did to her last night.
"A friend?"
"I didn't know what we were labeling ourselves. Plus if I did know I didn't know if you want to be public or not." She said with a pout.
"Oh Betty your mine now. Also I'd definitely want to be public with the most beautiful girl I've met in my whole entire life, but I don't want you to get hurt by the Serpents, if a enemy knows who I, the Serpent Prince, cares about, they'll do everything in their power to hurt you. If can't let that happen." She smiled.
"Okay."
"Okay, but if you want to tell some friends, only ones you trust, go ahead, just tell them keep quiet." Betty got onto her tippie toes and gave him a soft kiss on the lips.
They got into the car and they intertwined their fingers, resting their hands on his thigh. Jughead drove off towards the Northside.
They drove in comfortable silence the whole ride, stealing glances at each other.
"Alright, this is your stop."
"Okay, see you later?" She gave a quick peck on the lips and was about to leave the car when Jughead called after her.
"Wait! Give me your phone." She handed him her phone and he typed in his number and texted himself. "This is my number, call me or text me whenever you want or need anything, k?"
"Yup, thanks." She gave him another kiss but on the cheek this time and left to the apartment building. Jughead watched her until he saw her disappear into the building.
\---------------
Betty quietly walked into apartment 305, being quiet as possible, she quickly walked to Veronica's bedroom. Good she was sleeping.
Betty quickly pulled herself under Veronica's covers and lay down.
While she thought Veronica was sleeping, she actually saw the whole interaction between Jughead and Betty through her window. Veronica smiled to herself and noted to interrogate Betty later about it.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Make sure to follow @iconic._.bughead on Instagram for updates on this fic.
>
> Leave feedback, let know if it was a good chapter.
3. Pop's
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Jughead takes Betty to Pop's.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Hi! Sorry for the wait, I'm really busy.
>
> For more updates on this fic follow @iconic._.bughead on INSTAGRAM
Betty woke up a couple hours later, her head still aching from the alcohol she consumed the previous day. She got up to ready for the day. Veronica was already gone, out of bed.
Once Betty had washed up, she went downstairs to have breakfast. Veronica was sitting at the table eating, while she scrolled through her phone.
Betty grabbed a croissant that was sitting on the table and sat next to Veronica.
"Good morning!" Betty cheerfully said.
"Good morning indeed." Veronica said not looking up from her phone. Betty gave her a confused look. "Oh don't play all innocent, I saw you get out of the Southsiders car. In fact I saw your whole interaction with him this morning." Veronica said wiggling her eyebrows.
"I- uh...um" |
d26b718169b548c9a93bf87e579a7de5 | ['aa25a6f6c0ee4375866cb717b52b05d1'] |
The ripple was first, then the heat and finally the sound… Her brain understood and it fixated in just one person, Lena. She is the fastest person in the world and yet she feels sluggish like running in a pool of mud.
The explosion was still alive when she got there. Fire, heat and thick black smoke that wouldn't let any light inside. She tried to listen but everything was loud and there were too many people. Everybody yelling, panic, fear and tears everywhere. So she saved as many as she could on her way, clearing rubble and people. Carving a path to the now empty top office.
Finally she makes it to the top, but she can’t hear or see her “Lena! Lena!” Nothing. Her voice is raw from smoke and from yelling. “Lena please!” Nothing. Panic is settling, what good is it to have all this powers if the is can’t save her! She cant even see her! Her sister is yelling in her ear something she can't understand. The metal everywhere hot red and angry, it mocks her, laughs at her inability to save her. “Lena!!!!” A thick cloud of smoke keeps sucking light from that room. If Lena is there she surely has suffocated, she surely is dead or about to die and Kara, Supergirl, a demigoddess is helpless.
She starts punching walls, creating holes for fresh air to come in, for light to help her, for her precious sun to give her hope. “Lena please!”
And then she sees, she steps on it actually what can only be Lena’s blood, thick with grime. Someone is still yelling in her ear, but she is laser focused, her hands shaking, her heart somewhere outside her body. “No, no, no, no, no, please, no, I am here, no please, please, please, no, no!” Like a chant she can’t stop yelling.
She follows the trace to glowing spiderweb of twisted metal and rubble. Her hands burn and hurt, but the pain doesn't register. She is clearing everything, making space. Fighting fire, smoke, dust and her own sense of panic. The yelling in her ear continues, her sister yelling at to get out. Asking her if she is still alive, same panic she feels she hears in her sister's voice. And till she clears, until there she finally sees her.
She looks at peace, her eyes closed, arms holding her middle and her legs tucked under her. She is a resting angel, covered in dust. Kara’s breath starts slowly leaving her body as she crouches. There is nothing except a fallen angel and somewhere in her ear a hysterical sister that won't relent.
Everything stops, a bubble sets between the two of them just like it always has happend. “Lena wake up” she whispers as her thumb gently clears Lena’s eyes from all the dust, “Wake up Lena please” she moves her once black hair from the rest of her face. “Lena, please wake up” she is still whispering, this time as gently as she possibly can holding her hand. It feels limp and cold. No resistance, no hesitation. “Please, please wake up.”
“Kara, please Kara answer me!” This breaks the spell, her eyes seeking everywhere, realizing how dark and hot and suffocated everything around her is. Lena is dead in front of her and her veins freeze. Her jaw goes hard as she lifts her her up. Lena feels heavy and the way her head bobs side to side is so unlike her, so unrefined and ungraceful. So she does the only thing she can and holds her close. One hand holding her head in place, just like one would do to a newborn and she flies.
As soon as the first rays of sun touch her skin she feels a renewed power fuels her, fresh air in her lungs awake her. Her precious treasure still held in her arms she looks for her sister.
She lands in front of Alex with no grace, mute, eyes unfocused and scared. Alex looks in the verge of hysterics and scans her body for injuries and then her eyes widen in realization of what Kara is holding. “Medic! Medic!” She yells and she starts tries to take Lena from Kara, it’s useless she won’t let her go. “I got her, I got her I promise, let go.” It is not until the paramedics get there, than Kara slowly releases and drops her arms. Her proud emblem marked with Lena’s blood.
And there in the middle of a horror movie stands a “superhero” static, useless and numb. Alex frantically starts touching her everywhere, looking for any damage, any kryptonite that is making her sister limp and crumpled to her knees.
“She will be ok, she will be fine… Are you ok? Where are you hurt?” Kara is mute as well apparently. Her tongue is thick and her thought dry. She looks down and closes her eyes when she sees Lene’s blood. Without knowing she puts her hand there, holding it, right where Lena’s head used to be, now empty and cold.
Her Lena is gone and gone with her is her heart. The one she never had a chance to tell her it was hers already. The one was so afraid to show because she might get hurt. What an idiot, what a waste she is. Tears fill her eyes and her hands shake.
“Kara, please get up, I can’t lift you” Alex tries to help, to get her away from all the people, the chaos and cameras. What does it matter, she is broken and all the strength and power in her couldn't save the one she wanted the most. Kara is the definition of irony and somewhere someone very morbid is laughing at her, perhaps its Lex. Broken by a Luthor the joke does not elude her.
A hand lift her head, “breath, Kara please. Let's move away, please. They are working on her, she will be fine, she will you have to believe, please let's move.” Alex is whispering while holding her face. Every time Kara blinks more tears just fall. There is no doubt, she is finished.
“We have a pulse! We have a pulse!” She hears but doesn't register. “Kara! There is a pulse! I told you, Kara!”
Her eyes finally look at Alex, finally looking at her. Like waking up from whatever molasses she was stuck in. “There is a pulse?” She repeats soft and slow, and Alex just nods.
So she closes her eyes and focuses, and there she finally pinpoints it, slow weak and timid. There it is Lena’s heartbeat, and with that she feels air in her lungs, finally life settles back in her bones.
With Alex’s help she goes to her, and there she is. Looking small, full of tubes, shirt open, eyes closed but alive. There she is, her angel is back from the dead, so she hold her hand and its still cold, but its soft and its hers. So she just focuses on her weak heart and the softness of her hand. She will not waste her heart again, she will not waste her life again. So she stays with her, and she will stay with her for as long as she is wanted there.
**Author's Note:**
> Well Lena almost didn't make it, but happy ending! Kara's emotional kryptonite is her beautiful Lena :) Tell me what you think I am in tumblr as randomlygeneric! | 429104d65c7f4877a6ca5c58dd0b990e | ['aa25a6f6c0ee4375866cb717b52b05d1'] | Food
Food
It’s not that Kara is hungry all the time, well she is, but it’s not that. It helps her hands have something to do, and obviously fill her mouth so nothing dumb will come out. And it happens often especially around Lena. So she focuses on her food,her chewing, and her chopsticks as she bites down on another potsticker. They are fantastic if she is honest, better than the ones she had before. Right, Lena got them for her! So she chews and then she hears her voice, a little deep and soft. So Kara dares look up, and oh damn it. There she is, Lena with her face slightly turned, with a smile on her face, just looking at Kara with those great big green eyes. Uggg so frustrating so she fidgets a little more and chews a little more… Wait, there was a question, right? Damn Lena is waiting, so Kara stares back with great big eyes.
-”So you approve?”
Kara is just staring with her big blue eyes, chipmunk cheeks and a soft pink slowly coloring her face, and Lena thinks her heart will explode. Her beautiful Kara is so focused and all Lena wants to do is grab her, squeeze her.
“I approve! They are, omg I love them, I can just keep eating! You did this for me? How did you find this place? I swear I could kiss you!”
It is a slip Lena knows but she bites her lip to stop her mind from running wild. Kara is blushing furiously now, why did she say that?! I mean she does want to kiss her, she has for the past 2 months, but she would never tell Lena, her best friend. So she shoves more food in her mouth.
“Well, I did my research, a girl has to keep some of her secrets darling.”
So they play this game, back and forth, a hide and seek of longing and craving. Finding ways to provoke smiles and blushes on the other. A simple way to show they care. So today it is the best potstickers in town, and Kara is left shoving food in her mouth to stop herself confessing it all.
**Author's Note:**
> Please let me know what you think. @randomlygeneric on Tumblr |
ecdc002bf52247768cc185442eb3e6df | ['aa79e92340e1449c844a04dcba4d3ae0'] | "Well, we're fed up with you!" the stag-eater, behind all of the issues finally spoke, taking a step forward. His smirk fell. Sandor didn't hit women, but he decided right then that if this slut laid a hand on Sansa, he was knocking her fucking block off. "You don't belong here!"
"Maybe not, but at least I'm relevant enough for everyone to remember my name." Sansa said nonchalantly, earning a few "ooh's" and "burn's" from the occupants of the bar.
"Fuck you! Stuck-up little bitch!" as soon as she took another step forward, Sandor was ready to stop whatever she was about to try. He had promised Sansa that he wouldn't let anyone hurt her again, and he intended to keep his word. But before he even had a chance to try to stop anything, Arya beat him to it.
"Woah. Back the fuck off!" Arya stepped to the blonde like she was out for blood.
"Who the fuck are you?" Victoria asked looking Arya up and down.
"I'm about to be the worst mistake you've ever made in your life! Touch my sister. I fucking DARE you." Arya stood chest to chest with the woman, looking at her as if she dared her to even breath wrong.
Sansa thought smart and pulled the gun out of the back Arya's waistband while she was distracted. She handed the gun to Sandor, mouthing a 'sorry' to him. He took the gun and laid it on the table of their booth. Sansa moved forward to grab Arya by her arm to pull her back, but Arya shook her off.
"And what are you going to do?" Mel asked mockingly.
Sandor heard Sansa suck in a quick breath. He looked over to her, she was watching her sister as if she was alone in a cage with a wild animal. She looked over to Sandor with her eyes wide & leaned in a little, "She's going to hit one of them, if they keep on."
"Good." He smirked, "Don't worry, Red. I'll stop it, before she kills anyone." he winked at her, causing a small, grateful smile to form on her lips
Arya whipped her head to look at Melisandre,"Bitch, I'm not my sister. She's not violent. I am. I'll fuck your emaciated, cunt throat with my combat knife!"
Sansa's mouth fell open, and the entire room fell silent, with the exception of Loras, Bronn and Drogo trying to hold back their snorts of laughter.
"Arya!" Sansa halfheartedly scolded.
Arya ignored Sansa, and continued her onslaught of insults. "God, you look fucking disgusting! The Olsen twins called! They want their fucking eating disorders back! I bet the only thing you eat is come and whatever insects that are brave enough to get near the asshole on your face!"
Sandor was laughing too hard to stop a fight, if one broke out, but someone would be able to. Arya was ruthless, even the Little Bird looked a little proud of her sister sticking up for her the way she was. But she was hyping herself up. She was trying to push the right buttons to make one of them hit her. Sandor knew exactly what she was doing, and apparently Sansa did, too. She tried again to grab her sister.
"Arya! Stop. They're not even worth you getting this angry!"
"No. Fuck that! Mary-Skank and Trashley want a war? They got one!" Arya shouted. The yelling had gathered the crowd of Bronn, Margaery, Dany, Drogo, and Loras, around the screaming match. Renly was watching from across the room, still trying to set up the stereo system.
Dany stepped in between the four women, facing Mel and Veronica, "You two need to go. Now."
"Oh, Dany. Here to save the day again? You want to make this 3 on 3? Margaery, care to join us on the winning side?" Mel laughed, as if she wasn't about to die a minute ago.
"Oh hell no. I'd rather climb to the top of your ego and jump to your IQ." Margaery said snidely, earning a "nice one, babe" from Bronn for a good insult.
"I'm here to stop this before someone gets hurt. Go outside, Mel." Dany said.
"No! Make them go outside. They don't belong here anyway!" Mel snapped.
"Really? Because Sansa has been here for three days, and she already has more friends here than you've acquired in three years." Dany said.
"Only because she pretends to be a nice person. Look at her now. I pushed her buttons a little bit and Miss Prim and Proper isn't as great as everyone thinks she is. You should hear what she said to me outside." Mel sneered and looked to Sansa, "What would your daddy have thought about that?"
*CRACK*
Sansa had brought her hand down across Mel's face so hard that, the only thing Mel could do was hold the side of her face. Dany immediately stood in between the two women, to prevent anymore hits from being thrown.
"You don't get to talk about my dad!" Sansa said through clenched teeth. "You have delusions of adequacy! And in case you haven't figured it out yet. The line between prim and primitive, isn't very thick when it comes to a wolf. Stay the hell away from me, you backwoods piece of trash! This is your last warning." Sansa turned and angrily stalked off behind the bar, going into the kitchen. Leaving a wake of stunned silence behind her. And Mel still holding the side of her face.
Arya said something about going to "give Sansa her gangsta card" and ran off after her. Sandor decided he was about to end it once and for all. He plastered a menacing snarl on his face and took a few steps until he was right in front of Mel and her friend. He wasn't going to be kind about this. | 56f61e4a2269486ea8cde8179c6eb39c | ['aa79e92340e1449c844a04dcba4d3ae0'] | He scraped his thumbs over her pink nipples, causing her to let out a shuddering moan. It was quite possible that it was the most alluring sound he'd ever heard. Taking one of the nipples into his mouth he continued downward with his thumbs, grazing them down her sides, until he reached her hips.
He hooked her thumbs in her panties and slid them down, while placing kisses on her stomach as he made his way down. He groaned when he saw her sex. It was completely shaved and slick in the dim lighting.
He leaned back on the bed, motioning for her to follow. She straddled him, until he laid on his back, pulling on her legs until she was astride his face. Once she was dead out in front of him he plunged his tongue into her, causing her to buck her hips.
"Fuck, you're so sweet, baby." he practically growled, causing her to tremble slightly.
He focused on her clit, taking it gently in between his teeth, in intervals of stroking it firmly with his tongue. He could vaguely hear her words of encouragement in the form of "Yes, Stannis. Oh my God. Yes." until she let out a loud moan and began to shake. He licked up every drop that came out of her. When the shock from her orgasm subsided she climbed off of him, giving him just enough time to wipe his face with his hand before crashing her lips onto his.
"That was.." she searched for the words.
"Better than the first time I made you come?" he smirked at her, she just nodded slowly with wide eyes.
She moved down to his side. He positioned himself to where his legs were off of the bed. Sansa got on the floor, and Stannis propped himself up on his elbows.
"You're SURE that you want to do this?" he asked for the millionth time.
She smirked at him and nodded slowly. And began to unbutton his shirt. He stripped his coat and shirt off once it was unbuttoned, leaving only his pants, which Sansa had begun fumbling with nervously.
He helped her get his pants undone and she pulled his zipper down slowly. It was agony. Stannis forgot how to function for a brief amount of time. The anticipation was agony, as she shakily tried to pull him out of his boxers. He helped her pull his manhood out and heard her take an intake of breath. She leaned forward and flicked the tip of his cock with her tongue, causing his hips to buck.
"Christ." he hissed.
She did it again, but this time instead of backing away, she took him into her mouth as far as he could go. He showed her how tight to grip him, and she moved her hand along the shaft.
"Look at me." he commanded. Her eyes were on fire, the image in front of him made him emit a deep groan. This was better than he'd imagined.
"Oh God, Sansa. I'm not going to last long." he strained to say.
She continued like she hadn't heard him. He wished he would have known this was going to happen. He'd have gotten the first one out of the way, because just as she was sucking at a comfortable pace, he felt the warmth.
"Sansa, if you don't want me to come in your mouth, I suggest you move." he nearly whispered.
She didn't move.
He came inside of her mouth with a force that made his vision blur and a loud growl. "Oh yes, baby. Fuck! "
She kept her lips on him, until he was done. She tried to swallow all of it, but a little bit dribbled on her chin making his cock twitch.
She wiped it off with the back of her hand, and gave him a smirk. Sansa looked away, slightly embarrassed looking for her panties. She found them and slipped them on, and began to search for her bra. Stannis stood, and zipped his pants. Then he moved to stop Sansa.
"Stannis, let me find my clothes." she squealed, obviously feeling embarrassed.
"No. You're not about to run off after THAT!" he grinned and lifted her onto his arms, placing her under his covers slipping in behind her. "You don't get to be embarrassed about that." he said with conviction.
"I'm not." she said in a small voice.
"Good, because, God Dammit!." he smiled at her. "That was fucking insane!"
She gave a wry laugh. "You're welcome."
That made Stannis laugh. She turned to face him and planted a kiss on his lips.
"You're staying in here tonight." he said. It was not up for discussion.
She yawned. "Deal. Gotta be up by noon to go get Underworld ready."
"Gotcha, Stark."
*ding*
Sansa's phone went off. She got up to go check it. She was wearing only her panties, so Stannis took the time to admire the view. Her eyes got big with excitement.
"Dany sent the fax!" she practically yelled.
They both looked at each other for a second then both rushed to find clothes.
They were about to find out every name on that stupid fucking list
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> I was gonna call Sansa "Cobra Commander" instead of "Lex Luthor." but I didn't think a lot of people would have gotten the reference. So would you guys have thought that was funny or nah?
8. Some Rise by Sin, and Some by Virtue Fall
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Sorry it's been so long since my last update. Writers block and ish. Buuuut, I'm back, bitches. Just a little short chapter. :)
Sansa |
f45891b4dd0944808e641be01427a2d8 | ['aa813710574d4f35b69398d04780d2d9'] | **Author's Note:**
> title is from bitter, broken me by as it is. all i write is one shots. it's pretty short and pretty gay. this is one of the first layden things and the very first roam or mosh thing.
Luke looked at Jayden and quickly looked down, nervously laughing. It was Jayden’s birthday party, November 19th, he was turning 17. The boys were juniors in high school, itching to get out and face the real world and really get started with their band, “With Confidence”.
Luke continued to look around the room anxiously. He wanted to talk to Josh or Inigo to call his nerves, but Josh was somewhere kissing a boy named Miles probably, an Inigo always seemed to disappear until the important parts of parties.
Luke always had a thing for Jayden, ever since they met. He always thought he was gay, but he pushed it into the back of his mind. When he met Jayden, he just couldn’t push it back anymore. He had felt these feelings for way too long, and he wanted to do something about them that night.
He felt isolated despite all the bright lights and loud music. He started feeling dizzy and really cold, common feelings that he’d normally have before a panic attack, and told Jayden he was going to go get some air.
He stumbled outside, hoping for some cold air. He cursed to himself, thinking he should’ve gotten some water first. Immediately upon stepping outside, he spotted Josh and Miles. Josh saw him, and told Miles to hold on a second.
Josh approached an anxious looking Luke, wondering what was wrong. “I feel like I’m about to have a panic attack dude. Fucking Jayden, I just want to tell him how much I fucking like him. I can’t hold it in anymore, but I can’t say the words. I can’t even breathe when I’m standing next to him. He probably doesn’t even like me. He’d probably stop being friends with me. I don’t want to put him in that position.” Luke choked out, before Josh could even ask what was wrong.
Josh told Miles to go get Luke some water, and then forced his friend to sit down.
“I just can’t do it Josh.” Luke said, as his voice cracked, almost crying. “Luke, I’ve been telling you this for as long as you’ve known him. You just gotta fucking do it.” Josh tried to encourage the shaking boy.
“I just feel like it’ll change everything. He won’t want to be in the band with me anymore. We won’t all graduate together. All of my dreams will be broken, just because of this thing that just started out as a crush.” Luke said, tears starting to fall from his eyes. Miles came back outside with a bottle of water for Luke.
“Hey Lu, can I talk to you for a minute?” Jayden said from the doorway, with Inigo peaking over his shoulder and the party continuing behind them. Luke turned around, shocked, hoping Jayden didn’t hear anything, but also hoping he did.
“Y-Yeah sure” Luke stuttered out, still shaking and dizzy. Jayden came and sat on the street curb next to the anxious boy, Miles, Josh, and Ini all going back to the party.
Jayden turned to look at Luke, wiping his tears Jayden says something that Luke didn’t comprehend, because Jayden grabbed his face and touched their lips together. The kiss was short, but to both of the boys it was like a lifetime.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the first day I met you.” Jayden whispered to Luke. A million things flashed through Luke’s head at once, but he said “Every time I imagined that moment, I thought it would ruin my life.”
Luke and Jayden smiled hazily at each other, both getting what they wanted for years in a couple short seconds. “We should do that again sometime.” Jayden giggled as he spoke to Luke, a little tipsy. “I’d kiss you any day Jay. Wanna go back to the party?” Luke asked, feeling fulfilled by what had just happened.
Jayden paused for a minute, really weighing his options. “Since it’s my birthday, I guess we should go back, but I’m happy as it is.” Jayden said to Luke.
As they got up, they spotted the rest of the boys in Roam and their other bandmates, Josh and Inigo. All of them said “Awwwww” at the same time as they walked in, and in turn Jayden and Luke flipped them off. | 800b709e734e4f3098c1b83a440468bf | ['aa813710574d4f35b69398d04780d2d9'] | **Author's Note:**
> title is from no capes by waterparks. little bit of implied homophobia but it doesn't lead to anything. as always, it's just a short, gay, one shot.
Josh stared at Luke and Jayden wide eyed, they had his phone and it was just far enough from him that he couldn’t grasp it. Josh was sitting in the middle of the two boys, and Jayden started tossing his phone above his head.
“Guys, come on, give it back. You’re acting like we’re still in middle school.” Josh says as he frantically tried to get what was his back. “Why are you so worried about it? What’s on here that you don’t want us to see so badly, it’s gotta be pretty bad if you’re acting like this.” Jayden says, laughing, as he turns to Luke. “Maybe we would’ve given it back, but I gotta know what’s on here since you’re acting like this.” Luke says.
Josh shifts nervously, though he knew that they couldn’t get into it since he has a password. Luke turns it on, and Jayden and him both realize that there’s a password. “I figured it would be protected, try his birthday Luke.” Luke enters “10992” and gets a notification that it’s incorrect.
“I’ve got an idea.” A smirking Luke says, while entering Miles’ birthday. Josh shifts uncomfortably, knowing that they’ll get in and see everything. “Seems Josh’s lover boy’s birthday works.” A knowing Luke laughs. Jayden giggles and pulls Josh down, as he tries to get up and leave the dressing room.
“There’s a bunch of shit on there that you guys probably don’t want to see, but whatever. Everyone hears you guys trying to be quiet and failing as you do each other every night, and sees you guys trying to hide that you’re actually a thing. We all know.”
Jayden and Luke both start laughing, and only anger Josh further. “Alright then, at least we try to hide it, you practically sit on top of Miles.” Luke comments. Josh pretends he doesn’t hear him, and the boys dive into looking at the content of Josh’s phone.
“The last text is to ‘my boy’ with a heart, Luke are you seeing this?” Jayden asks his boy. Jayden and Luke leave the messages app, not really wanting to see what Josh and Miles talk about. They decide to look at the photos, and find all photos of Miles.
“Look at this,” Luke turns the phone towards an upset Josh. “Photos of Josh and Miles holding hands, photos of Miles literally on top of Josh, screenshots of their texts, photos of them hugging, literally everything that you can do as a couple is on this camera roll.” Luke says to both of the boys, but mostly pretending like Josh isn’t there.
“Can I have it back now asshole?” Josh asks, annoyed at both of the teasing boys. “Hmmm maybe, but I wanna talk to the rest of the Roam guys about this.” Jayden says, almost laughing.
“You guys are the worst. Don’t act like they don’t all make fun of you guys too.” Josh says, clearly about to either punch one of the stronger boys, or cry.
“Sorry Josh, I didn’t mean to really make you mad, I was just joking.” Jayden mumbles, Luke says an almost inaudible apology as well. “Just come off it okay? You guys can be really fucking annoying.” A more calm Josh says.
After a very sweaty show that night, Josh decides that he needs some space, and switches vans with Sam so he can stay with Miles.
Miles knows how Josh gets when he’s upset but he’s trying not to be, and holds him a little tighter than normal that night. “What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything.” Miles says, trying to pry at Josh in the sweetest way.
Josh turns to face him, striving to look like he’s fine. “Jayden and Luke were looking at my camera roll and texts earlier and making fun of us and were saying they were gonna out us to the rest of your band.” Josh whispers, not being able to look Miles in the eyes.
Miles kisses his forehead, knowing how Josh was outed to both his family and friends, and how hard Josh took it. Miles whispers to him that he’d never let them do that, running his hands through Josh’s mess of tangled hair. Josh whispers something that Miles couldn’t quit make out, as he softly falls asleep in the boy’s protective arms. Miles whispers that he loves him just for the hell of it, and falls asleep soon after. |
5b227c9a0e01430fbc083b18d93d2b60 | ['aa840a546f39494c9abebea11249e3c5'] |
President Hammer
“Here, Armie have a drink, you look like you need it.” Tim say as he hands me a glass of my favorite scotch. I drink it one gulp.
“I’m nervous.” I say and take his hand. I’m very lucky to have him with me tonight. The biggest night of my life. Tim is a generous and supportive husband. I know that all of this would not be possible without him. I told him from the moment I decided to run for President we needed to be in this together. If he didn’t want to me to do this I wouldn’t. I would be happy to resume as governor of California and retire after my term was over. Tim told me to I should do it. I am very grateful to him for this. I really do want to be President.
30 minutes until the polls close on the East Coast…
The political scientist and pundits can’t seem to agree if I’m going to win in landslide or get my ass handed to me. After the polls on the east coast close, they will begin to try and predict the winners in each state. Having a PhD in political science from Harvard I’m aware of how they can predict a winner without having all the votes counted. This is not an ideal way to predict the winner, but it keeps the television audience happy and gives the guys at CNN something to do.
My campaign manager, Nicole, who happens to be my mother in law, came up with a very effective campaign for me, which focused on people who hate me. I was not sure an openly gay man should even try running for President. There are still people in this country who hate gay people. I was told I would never get the vote of the religious right. I worked hard to reach out to these people. To talk to them about the important issue and how I could help them. I spent four traveling around the deep south, also known as the Bible belt in order, to reach out to these people. I knew that I could not hide from them or ignore them but I have to reach out and try to make an connection with them. It went better than I anticipated. Everyone was surprised at the support I received in Kentucky in particular.
“You might be the first the democrat to win here in a very long time.” A resident of Bowling Green told me after a rally there.
I hope this was true. There were some hard moments of bigotry on the campaign trail. A rally in Alabama was crashed by white nationalist with signs denouncing my lifestyle. But I knew that would happen. In These were the moments I worried about how all this was affecting Tim. When we got married last year, he didn’t sign up for being attacked. But he handled it all with calmness a grace. I couldn’t be happier to have him in my life. I need him by side.
No matter what happens tonight my campaign is over. As I stand here in the ballroom of the Beverly Hills hotel and look around at supporters, campaign staff and my family, I’m overwhelmed. I want to win for them. I want to win and show them that all their hard work was worth it.
“You can’t control the voters.” Tim says to me, like he read my mind and knew where my thoughts were going.
“I know…” I say staring into my empty glass.
“I think my mother is drunk.” He says. I laugh and kiss him. There is camera flash and we both turn toward that camera person and smile. Pictures of Tim and I kissing are very popular. I guess seeing people loving their spouses is a novel idea.
30 minutes until the polls close on the west coast…
Things are looking good for me with the results coming in from the east coast. I try not to get my expectations too high. As we saw in the 2020 election, anything can happen. No one thought Donald Trump would win a second term, but he did, narrowly beating Elizabeth Warren, who I have chosen as my running mate. She is a smart powerful woman with experience in the Senate. She was the only one I wanted as a Vice President.
They have predicted I’ve won some important states New York, Pennsylvania, Virginia. As usual, the political nightmare state of Florida is too close to call right now.
“I can tell by the look on your face that you are trying to work out the Electoral math?” Elizabeth says as she sits down next to me and gives me another Scotch. “I know because it’s the same look I had four years ago.”
The polls close in California and it’s presumed I will win my home state. CNN is now saying I won the election. I won! A cheer erupts from the crowd. I can’t believe it. I’m President elect of United States. I’m standing on a makeshift stage behind a curtain. I know I must go out there and make a speech for the crowd. Timmy finds me while I’m thinking about what to say.
“Congratulations, Mr. President” he says with a huge grin on his face. I take his face in both of my hand and kiss him deeply.
“You don’t have call me that.” I say and wrap my arms around him. Everything has changed for me now but whatever the next four years bring, he will be my constant.
“Are you kidding. I’m calling you that for the rest of your life.” He laughs. “Now get out there and talk to your people.”
“I’d like to thank everyone this room. My staff, the volunteers, my family. This would not have been possible without your hard work and dedication. I’d also like to thank Elizabeth Warren for agreeing to take on the role of Vice President. She has already given me invaluable to me throughout the campaign and I will rely on her expertise and experience throughout my Presidency. I can’t predict the future; I don’t know what is going to happen in the next four years, but I promise to lead this country back in the positive direction we all want and need. After 8 years of Donald Trump at the helm, the country has become a divided and fearful nation. I promise to not lead from a place of fear and power but from a place of compassion and understanding. I understand that not all Americans are the same but there are things that all Americans need in live happy lives. My administration will work hard to treat all Americans equally and help everyone achieve the best possible life. Once we do this, we can then address global problems and restore American to a respected global power it once was. I will work hard to restore respect, civility and prosperity in American and worldwide. All Americans matter and we will work for all of you.” | 0534d2f60e4b4a3d8fc46ea664557c16 | ['aa840a546f39494c9abebea11249e3c5'] | The sobs have slowed down and The Professor hands me a handkerchief to dry my eyes and blow my nose.
“Papa?” We hear coming from the hallway. “Papa? Is someone here?” Just then, Elio appears in the doorway.
Elio:
My father is sitting in his study with someone. Probably the same someone who was honking at the gate. At first, I think it’s my imagination, but it looks like Oliver. But it can’t be him. When he stands up, the is no mistaking him for anyone else.
“Oliver?” I say rather confused as to what is happening.
“Elio!” My father interjects. “Look who has made a surprise visit. Oliver, you’ll stay for dinner of course. Also, you are welcome to stay here with us, unless you have room in town.” What is my father saying? No, he’s not welcome here. He cannot say here.
“I, uh, it wasn’t a planned trip, so I don’t have anywhere booked.” Oliver stammers. Cleary he is just as uncomfortable with my father’s reaction to this situation as I am. My father seems almost joyful about Oliver’s presence.
“Wonderful! I’ll just go and tell Maria to set another a place for dinner and prepare the guest room.” My father bounds from the room. I can see him redirecting Marzia and escorting her to the kitchen. She’ll be so pissed when sees Oliver.
“Maria?” He asks
“Malfada passed on years ago. Maria is her daughter.”
“Oh.” He is looking at the floor, it seems he can’t look me in the eye.
“What are you doing here Oliver?” Saying his name and officially acknowledging his presence makes my heart race. He’s here, after all this time. He’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.
“It’s been twenty years you know?” He finally looks up at me.
“I know! Do you think I don’t know exactly how long it’s been?” I’m crying now. I’m angry and sad. I don’t know what to do. I’m angry he’s here, but a bit happy too. I turn around and flee up the stairs.
Oliver:
I just I should have known he would be angry. I don’t know what I expected to happen here today. I guess I thought he would still love me. Maybe I thought we could pretend the last twenty years didn’t happen. What I was thinking? Of course, he’s upset. I must follow him. I need to at least get some closure. I slowly walk up the steps. As I climb them, I see Marzia coming from the kitchen. If looks could kill, this would be last day of my life. My pace quickens as I try to avoid an encounter with her.
Those same steps lead to the same hallway to the same doors. I’m guessing he’s in the same room. I knock on the door. I hear some mumbling and grunting, which I take as signal to enter. The room is the same. Even the damn blue bathroom tile is still there. Again, in this room, as in the study, the only difference is the electronics. A television, a cell phone, a computer. But for me, this is still in room in which I fell in love.
He’s lying on the bed with his back to the door. I sit down next to him. He turns over on his back.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” He says to me. Even though he has aged he is still the same Elio. His expression is hard, but his eyes are soft.
“I can’t believe it either. I’ve been thinking about this, you, a lot lately.”
“Really, I haven’t thought of you at all.” Same sarcastic, snotty attitude that makes me what to punch him. Or maybe I want to kiss him.
“I’m sorry. For all of it. I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better man back then.”
“Oliver…”
“No, let me finish. Please. I need to say this to you.”
He sits up now and looks at me with an earnest expression. I take a breath and tell him everything I need to say.
“What happened back then, was tragic. And I know I caused it and I’ve been punishing myself for it ever since. That day at the train station was the worst decision of my life. I never should have pretended I could just go home and forgot about you. I fell in love with you that summer and I was too scared to admit it. Or too stupid to understand that I would never be in love with someone else. But I was a coward. I still am.” I stop and take a breath. I feel relief at finally saying these things to him.
“Oliver, you went home and got married right? Even though you claim you love me, you chose someone else.”
“Yes, I did. I married Carol which was a mistake. I tried very hard to convince myself that she would make me happy. Which was wrong of me to do. She’s done nothing wrong here and she deserves a better husband.” I begin to cry again thinking of how much I’ve hurt to the two people I’ve been closest to in my life.”
“Carol. That’s here name?”
“Yes, why does that matter?”
“It doesn’t.” He said, smiling now. “I’ve just tried to picture her and what she was like. Does she know about me?”
“No, I couldn’t possibly tell her any of this.”
We’re both quiet for a moment. Neither of us seem to know what to say next.
“I noticed Marzia down there.” I say. “Are you and she... together?”
“Of course not. She’s my best friend and I’m gay for God’s sake!”
He’s quiet for a moment. He doesn’t seem as angry now. I wonder what he’s thinking? He surprises me by taking my hand and holding it tightly.
“You really regret it? Leaving me behind?” He asks, looking me directly in the eyes.
“Yes, every day since it happened.” |
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