query_id stringlengths 4 64 | query_authorID stringlengths 6 40 | query_text stringlengths 66 72.1k | candidate_id stringlengths 5 64 | candidate_authorID stringlengths 6 40 | candidate_text stringlengths 9 101k |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
8ccaa543faad415480234eebf9f459ee | ['f22ef72b2f7f48a393796e72e48fd74f'] | “Oh. Um...” Saeran stammered, as he was given an uncomfortable reminder down south of how he actually felt about the swearing. “I didn’t mind...” he admitted, the tips of his ears going red.
“Really?” the boy asked, searching his face for any signs of a lie.
“Yeah… in fact. Maybe you should swear more often when we... ” he cleared his throat, “I liked it. A lot.” the redhead confessed, and quickly shovelled more ice cream down his mouth to cool off.
“Oh… OH.” Yoosung said, realization dawning on him as his gaze trailed to the other’s pants.
Saeran met Yoosung’s eyes and caught the glint in them, it was brief, but he knew it meant trouble.
His bowl was taken out of his hand and Saeran sucked in a breath as Yoosung moved to straddle him, bending forward to whisper in his ear.
“How about you show me how much you _fucking_ liked it?”
_He’s going to be the death of me._ Saeran thought absently.
~
Saeran made sure to check that Yoosung was asleep before sitting at his computer and typing in a few commands.
He checked to make sure that the bug he had put had been wiped clean, opening LOLOL while muting the sound. He sighed in relief as the homepage showed up as per normal, no Barbie to be seen anywhere. He did it a couple more times just to be sure, before shutting the computer down again, crawling back into bed with the soundly sleeping blonde. This would be another secret he took to his grave, one Yoosung would not be in on.
Saeran thought back about how angry Yoosung had gotten earlier and smiled a little.
Maybe he’d let him in on it after all.
**Author's Note:**
> Ah, this was fun to write... I got late... but it was fun. Let me know what you think! Feedback is always welcome~ I'm @USER on Tumblr if you wanna talk. ^-^ | e95a3cb0827a4449bc3343d20574e02a | ['f22ef72b2f7f48a393796e72e48fd74f'] | “You are mine…” Yoosung said, opening his eyes and letting Saeran see the lust, need, possessiveness and twisted adoration that reflected in his violet orbs.
“And I am yours.” He finished, biting his lip as a look of pure ownership flashed in Saeran's eyes, followed by a shorter look of dependence.
Yoosung knew he would never stray now. _Not ever again._
Everyone would know that they belonged to each other.
_Everyone would know that Saeran was his._
**Author's Note:**
> Did you hate it? Do you wanna stab me? xD
> Lol, sorry if this upset anyone...
> Anyway, lemme know what you think! Thank you for reading.
> I'm @USER on Tumblr. ^-^ |
0e083958e0ef40f7b9282ea0f492a1d2 | ['f236bc7bce9542d28d454199f514ab84'] | Days had passed and Josie hadn’t left her room for anything other than food or class, at least the classes that didn’t have Hope or Penelope. She knew from the start it was something that she shouldn’t let her heart fall for and yet she did. And what hurt the most was the fact that both of the girls that she’d given her heart to, were the ones to crush it into a million pieces. Anyone who thought one heart break was bad, never had their heart broken twice at the same time. She thanked the fact that Lizzie was her twin though because every moment since, the pair would try and intercept Josie and Lizzie was always there to step between them and give them an earful. Today happened to be one of those days. Coming back from AP Bio Josie had her head ducked down avoiding any unwanted attention and these days that meant everybody excluding Lizzie. Like a sixth sense though she could feel them near her, and she couldn’t help herself. She looked up and there they were sitting on a couch in the foyer, as if they were waiting for her. Instantly their eyes met Josie’s and she picked up her pace, practically running back to her room.
“Josie, wait!” Penelope stood up, along with Hope to chase after Josie only to be stopped by her taller blonde counterpart.
“I’m going to stop you right there bitch 1 and bitch 2. You’re not going anywhere near my sister.” Lizzie stood there with her arms crossed.
“This has nothing to do with you Malibu Barbie we just want to talk to Josie.”
“Well considering the last time you spoke to my sister she ended up in our room crying all night it does concern me. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let the she devil reincarnates breathe the same air as my sister.”
“Please Lizzie. I know we hurt her but we just want the chance to explain. It’s not what it looks like I promise.” Hope pleaded with Lizzie.
“You know I was actually starting to believe this façade you were holding up was real. I actually thought maybe just maybe you were worth Josie’s attention. I was clearly wrong. Now both of you better leave before I burn both your perky little asses from here until tomorrow.”
“Lizzie-“
“Leave.” She cut Hope off giving her a death stare. This wasn’t a fight they were going to win, and Hope knew it. She pulled Penelope way, who had her horns at the ready but reluctantly followed Hope’s cue.
* * *
“We have to do something.” Penelope said as she leaned against Hope shoulder. The pair of them sat at the end of the bed staring at the closed door hoping that Josie would burst through but after day 4 it was doubtful. Hope had an arm wrapped around Penelope’s shoulder and rubbed small soothing circles on her arm knowing and feeling the pain the other girl was feeling because she too felt it too. It seemed funny to her how simply it happened. It was like a blink and boom here she was, her heart ached for not one but two of her favourite people in the world. Once for Penelope’s pain and once for herself. She just wanted to make things right between the three of them, but she wasn’t so sure it’d be that easy.
“I know we do but how? She’s in her room 95% of the time and she has her guard dog there 24/7. Like what are we supposed to do if she’s not willing to at least talk to us?”
“I don’t know but we have to do something. We love her Hope. We can’t just give up.”
“I know. Pen I know. But isn’t there a saying out there saying if you love something set it free and if it comes back then it was meant to be?”
“That’s some bullshit for people who like to self-sabotage and stop the fight before they even enter it. Josie is worth more than that and you know it. We can’t just let this be it. Not until all the cards are out on the table.”
“I know I know.” Hope sighed. “What do you suggest we do then?”
“I mean I might have an idea.” Penelope perked up.
* * *
“Okay are you ready?” Penelope whispered into her ear piece to Hope on the other line.
“I mean as ready as I’m ever going to be. God knows that if Lizzie Saltzman could hate us more, she sure will after this.”
“I know but desperate times call for desperate measures.” Penelope’s eyes scanned around the corner and found the twins walking arm in arm. “It’s go time.” She muttered and watched Hope step out from the corner, bumping into Lizzie with a huge cup of lukewarm coffee. They wanted to distract the girl not kill her.
“OH MY GOD!” Lizzie called out. “What the living HELL this is a one of a kind, tailor fitted jacket!” Lizzie held her hands up in shock as Hope moved to clean Lizzie up.
“God I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.” As Hope had Lizzie distracted Penelope grabbed Josie and led her away. It wasn’t until they were far enough from Lizzie’s ear shot before Josie registered she was being kidnapped and her kidnapper was the one and only Penelope Park. Okay... so kidnapping was a strong word, but it was how Josie chose to see it. They found themselves in a spare bedroom usually reserved for the unexpected new enrolments.
“What the hell Penny?” Josie threw Penelope’s arm off her as they settled in the room. She went to open the door only to have Penelope mutter a spell to slam it shut. She growled angrily over at Penelope. “Are you serious?” | a105ea0d5c9e4e8d8f26fb89d0574f76 | ['f236bc7bce9542d28d454199f514ab84'] | “Kiss!” And the moment he did the chanting happened. Slowly the volumed increased as the rest of the student body joined in. “Kiss, kiss, kiss!” Josie sat up and stared at Penelope, unsure of what to do. They had their rules, but they never discussed what would happen if they were cornered like this. If she didn’t kiss Penelope, then Lizzie would figure out they weren’t actually together. But if she did, then Penelope would be her first proper kiss and it scared her. Penelope wasn’t the worst person to share her first kiss with, but it was in no way how she imagined. Penelope took Josie’s hand and brushed her hair away from her face.
“Do you trust me?” Penelope asked. Josie only nodded unable to form words. Penelope creased Josie’s cheeks lightly and pulled her in, pressing their lips together. Josie was taken by surprise but sunk into her touch so naturally Penelope wouldn’t have pegged it as her first kiss. The taste of her lips was sweet and soft, much like Lizzie’s but in such a different way Penelope wanted to work out what it was. Before she could deepen the kiss, the bubble underneath them fell in on them as it popped, and the pair fell into the pool with a splash. As they resurfaced for air, they heard the cheering from the crowd and scanned around them Hope and Lizzie were nowhere to be found.
“Josie-“ Penelope started before Josie swam to the edge of the pool.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” She mumbled before the ran off.
10. It means Something
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Hi im back! so i hope you guys enjoy and let me know please cause I'd really love to hear what you think. the story shifts perspectives a little bit but hopefully it's easy enough to follow. Anyway probably lots of mistakes but you know i'll get to it eventually.
“Wait Josie!” Penelope chased Josie as she ran from the pool. They rounded the corner to a secluded nook of the school and Josie hugged herself as her body inaudibly shook. “Josie?”
“You shouldn’t have done that.” Josie mumbled.
“Josie-“
“You broke the rule!” She called out and finally let her arms fall from her face. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“It was just a kiss.”
“Yeah, my first! It means something to me, and you know it. I’m not the kind of girl who can just kiss whoever. They mean something to me. It might just be a kiss to you but that’s not who I am. They are special to me.
“Jo. I’m so sorry“ Penelope’s voice cracked at the sight.
“Sorry doesn’t change anything.”
“What can I do?”
“Just leave.” Josie turned away.
“Please.” Penelope’s hand reached out but was shaken off.
“Leave!” Josie’s voice vibrated louder, and Penelope retracted with a jump.
“Okay. I’ll go.”
* * *
“I can’t believe she actually kissed her!” Lizzie paced up and down the room. Hope sat there slumped on the bed, defeated. Her hopes weren’t particularly high in the first place but now they were non-existent.
“Well to be fair you did dare them.” Hope hung her head over the end of the bed, looking at Lizzie upside down.
“I didn’t think they would actually do it!”
“You didn’t give them much of a choice.”
“That’s not the point.” Lizzie frowned at Hope. She wasn’t wrong but it wasn’t something she was going to admit anytime soon. “The point is, is that it’s going to take more than just a kiss to break their little act.”
“Why are you so sure it’s an act?” Hope sat up looking and Lizzie now, waiting for an answer. One that Lizzie wasn’t ready to say aloud. She had to believe it was fake because it wasn’t a reality she could handle. All her doubts about her relationship would be confirmed, all the guilt she carried around because she in fact did steal Penelope from Josie when they could’ve been together this entire time… broke her heart. Lizzie as precise as she is as a person, her actions are driven by her impulses, it was something she hated about herself. It wasn’t like she wanted to hurt Josie, she never did. She could feel her fingers tremble and shake. She didn’t want this. The room started to shake, and Hope shot up to her feet.
“Are you okay?? What’s happening?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.” Lizzie’s voice broke and Hope took her into her arms, holding her tightly.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Lizzie’s knees weakened and Hope led them towards the bed where she sat them down. Hope’s arm draped over Lizzie’s shoulder in comfort and they sat together in silence for what seemed like hours until Lizzie finally spoke up.
“I have to.” Lizzie sniffed.
“You what?”
“You asked me why I am so sure it’s an act and my answer is because I have to.”
“What do you mean?” Hope met Lizzie’s glistening blue eyes.
“I have to believe it’s an act because then it wouldn’t hurt so much. Seeing them together…”
“I know the feeling.” Hope let out a sombre half-laugh. “Josie was the first girl to share her toys with me in elementary when everyone else was terrified of me. She always noticed the days I was sick and would always be there whenever class let out. It took literal years to realise I liked her back. And the moment I did she’s with Penelope.”
“She likes you, you know. I mean who wouldn’t?”
‘Elizabeth Saltzman was that a compliment?” Hope chuckled. |
2790cf471a95403799588e4a2d5cf36e | ['f24561f6e2434a42aa2be0dfa51b4250'] | That Chanyeol was panting and sweating just because of him turned him on so much he hardly could bare it.
Chanyeol grabbed his hips, pinning them to the table, violently thrusting into him hitting his sweet spot every time while sucking on one of his nipples. Baekhyun released high pitched moans, only able to concentrate on the feeling, dragging his sharp nails down the other's back, leaving read scratch marks.
He threw his head back, trying not to go crazy as Chanyeol slammed into him, making him stutter and scream.
Soon he felt the familiar knot in his stomach signaling him that he was close.
"Yeol, a-am close", he was barely able to say.
"Cum for me, Baekie, cum hard" Chanyeol sucked on his neck and with a few more thrusts Baekhyun orgasmed harder than he had in a long time. White liquid spreading all over his and Chanyeol's torso.
Chanyeol came too as Baekhyun clenched hard around him, sending him over the edge, grunting and biting his shoulder, leaving a red mark and spilling his cum inside of him.
Chanyeol rode them through their orgasm and milked ever last bit out of him before breaking down on Baekhyun exhausted.
Both of them breathing heavily, trying to catch their breath and come down from their high.
After a few minutes, Chanyeol pulled out and got a wet cloth to wipe him down and cleaned them both.
He helped Baekhyun to stand up but his legs immediately gave in, so he easily picked him up and carried him to their shared room, laying them in his bed.
Baekhyun crawled on Chanyeol's chest, nuzzling his face in the crook of his neck, gently kissing him there.
"I like you, you know", sighed Baekhyun calmly . "As more than a friend."
"Me too", responded Chanyeol. "I mean I like you too, have for a long time actually."
"Really?", asked the smaller surprised. "I didn't notice."
"Well I don't just ask anyone to kiss me and then fuck them on the kitchen table", laughed Chanyeol.
Baekhyun blushed hard, hitting the others chest.
"You're horrible." But smiled nonetheless, feeling happier than ever.
"Also I think I can handle no sweets when I get to do this again. Because you're way sweeter than any candy in the world"
Chanyeol kissed the top of a blushing Baekhyun's head and chuckled happily.
**Author's Note:**
> (Btw this is the 1st fanfic I've ever written so pls forgive me & tell me in the comments how it was) | 648cc471f72f42ff9ad3b3111b75ac7d | ['f24561f6e2434a42aa2be0dfa51b4250'] | Hyuk smiled at him shyly, hoping his massage was being received without words.
Thank you, hyung.
"Weeelll", Hyoseob dragged the word. "Let’s continue then. We‘re almost through, right?"
"Yes. Two more questions."
He read the next demand and his insecure feelings were long forgotten. The brunette became smug again and posed the question.
"What has been your best sexual experience so far?"
Hyoseob let out a huff, opening his eyes really wide as if he was saying, You ask me questions...
Once again minutes pass while he rummaged through his brain for the right answer. His face lightened up as epiphany hit him.
"It must have been this one time I hooked up with this guy and gave me the best blowjob/orgasm of my life", revealed the older. "He taught me to rub the space between my butthole and my balls while I orgasm. I swear this shit changes your life!"
Not quite believing him, Hyuk gave him a questioning look. But sure might as well try it the next time, won’t harm him. If it’s true he might get a breathtakingly climax from it. He only can win.
"Moving on to the last round!", shouted Hyoseob cheerily. How one could be so active at 4:15am and after two bottles of soju will forever be a mystery to the younger.
He read the demand quietly by himself at first, rising one brow extremely high.
"It’s another dare", mentioned the older. "Quite a big one as well. Decide whether you wanna do it or not I‘m fine with both."
He handed his phone to the other man who read the last typed out request.
Make out with the person to your left and review their skills after 1-2 minutes.
Wooow yeah that was a big one. A body shot can still be excused as just a joke and severe idiocy but a make out session. That’s a step higher. Frankly, Hyuk wasn’t opposed to the idea, quite the opposite actually. His whole body was screaming at him to take the chance and kiss Hyoseob but he was scared whether his hyung would like it or just do it due to peer pressure.
He did say earlier that he was fine with both and if he was really against it he wouldn’t have said that. Sooo might as well just do it. Why not? Certainly, it’ll be enjoyable for both of them to kiss somebody again. Additionally, you can’t just chicken out but fulfill all of the remaining requests.
And that’s exactly what he told Hyoseob.
"You’re right. Just not doing one thing would make us scaredy-cats!", shouted the black-haired a bit too enthusiastically.
"Come on we‘ll do this now!" He hit on his thighs while saying so, indicating that Hyuk should sit on his lap. He rose to his knees, kicking one leg over the other man, successfully straddling him now. The younger is way too sober by now to not feel his heart fall into his stomach. Suddenly, they’re so close, closer than ever before. Hyuk can hear his own pulse, his whole concentration wasted on a proper breathing rhythm.
Said concentration going to the shits as Hyoseob placed his hands on the other‘s waist, pulling him even closer. Their foreheads were touching now, noses brushing against each other. Hyuk‘s arms found their way around the older‘s neck, locking him in place.
They could feel each other’s breath on their lips, the warmth mingling together til they were inhaling the same air. Hyuk’s heart was going crazy by now, pumping faster than it ever has before but he felt calm. No jumpiness or fear, only calmness and safety. He knew he could trust Hyoseob.
Millimeter after millimeter their lips inched forward, stopping at just a hairbreadth between them to enjoy the tension for one more second but also to have one last opportunity to pull away.
But neither of them did and their mouths crashed into each other. Starting out chaste, rubbing their lips together, separating just to dive right back in again. The sound of their smacking lips fueling their lust and chaste became needy. Their mouths were opening up, letting more and more of the other in, welcoming him with happiness.
Slowly their tongues got involved. At first, one of them occasionally snuck in a peak of the wet muscle in the others mouth, making them both groan and Hyoseob let his hands slide under the younger’s shirt, gently stroking his sides.
Hyuk shivered from being touched and tightened his right arm around the older‘s neck while his left started to wander over Hyoseob‘s still shirtless, firm chest. Their moaning increased and they began to let their tongues meet properly, wet and warm sliding against each other, licking in their mouths and exploring everything that was given to them.
Their heavy make out continued, somewhere on the way Hyuk lost his shirt as well, pressing their upper bodies together, skin on skin. Their lips met, being bitten just enough to open up the mouth, making room to insert a tongue. Very gently they caressed each other, making sparks fly.
At some point, air was urgently needed and they separate after pressing their lips together for one last time. Only the sound of heavy breathing could be heard in the otherwise dead-silent room. Both of them panted for air, holding their bodies tight nonetheless as if they were one now.
After a few more minutes, they were back to normal, breathing deeply and regularly. Right there and then, Hyoseob started to speak.
"And? What is your verdict? Are my kissing skills to your liking?"
Hyuk leaned their foreheads together again, directly looking in the older‘s eyes. He thoroughly breathed once before he answered.
"I‘m not entirely sure yet, hyung", teased the younger. "I think I need to continue this a bit longer to decide ultimately." |
29655975483c443a9975fa706c32363e | ['f280f9fa58054da2934e415be71aee31'] |
Power and Authority.
Growing up, I was a bully and a thug. I only felt good when I was holding power of those weaker than myself.
That lasted till I was 15.
One night, I was dragged from the depths of sleep by a crashing downstairs. I snuck down to see what was going on, bat in one hand, thinking I could protect my home.
I burst into the kitchen, bat primed to swing at whoever was foolish enough to think they could come into MY house.
The only warning I got was the sound of derisive laughter from my blindspot, then shattering pain in the back of my head.
For the second time in as many hours, I found myself being dragged into conciousness by the sound of shattering glass. Bleerily I opened my eyes to see what had gone wrong this time, however it seemed this time the surprise was to be a pleasant one... At least, pleasant for ME.
The sound was from the smoke grenade coming in through the window. Immediatly it began spewing noxious smoke into my already chaotic kitchen, the bastards who had attacked me seemed stunned already, they paused for what seemed to me to be days, but can't have been more than 15 second.
Three figures, clad in black from head to toe, faces covered with mirrored glass burst in through the door. They didn't even speak, their actions so practiced they almost seemed like one multi-headed creature.
A series of dampened shots, like whispers in the night, and the threat was gone.
That was the moment I knew I was on the wrong path.
That was when I knew, I would never feel weak again.
*****
Fifteen years have passed, since that night, but my commitment has never wavered. I got my act together, I studied, I worked HARD, and it paid off.
Today, is my first day as a Central Knight, the most elite peacekeepers in all of Amaraut.
I swagger into the bullpen, my new uniform pressed and clean, practically looking like I've just removed it from the box. It takes me all of ten seconds for the laughter to begin and for me to realise my grave mistake.
"Oh my god, will you look at this bellend!"
"I think he's actually pressed his trousers!"
"Hahaha what a prat!"
I can feel the heat filling my face... No! If I can't stand a little ribbing from my compatriots, how on earth can I call myself fit to face the worst this city has to offer?
"Don't be jealous guys..." The room immediatly goes dead silent, all eyes on me "Because you've NEVER looked as fine as I do in this uniform!" I stride forward, confidently and take my seat.
The silence holds for two agonising seconds.
Then, blessedly, they all burst into laughter. The guy sitting next to me even reaches over to pat me on the shoulder.
"Not bad kid, you might just last!"
I relax back into my chair, confident that I've passed the first test.
Seconds later the room goes silent, and in walks the chief... I know the second test won't be anywhere near as forgiving.
"Respard, Collins. There was an incident, over at the University. fatalities have been confirmed. You're on it till it's solved."
"Yes, sir!"
"Trevellian, Morse. Update on the case with the Ianucci family? Did you recover those witnesses?"
"Yes, sir. We recovered nearly four bags of them." a few grim chuckles echo through the room.
"Get on it damnit. Ecco, Mitchem, you're assisting. I want this case closed YESTERDAY."
The room begins to empty, as each Knight is assigned their task... Soon, I'm the only one left.
"And then there was one... So, you're the new guy... Traffic duty. Take a speed trap, head out to the motorway over to Lilac Territory and bust anyone doing anything they shouldn't"
"Sir, yes sir!"
I jump to my feet, salute and head out.
*****
Fucking TRAFFIC DUTY!
We have murders, a mob family war, a crime wave in Vermillion... and I'm on gods damned TRAFFIC DUTY. I know this is probably just some kind of elaborate hazing... But can't they just blindfold me and beat me with a soap bar or something? Traffic Duty is rookie stuff, I've been out here all gods damned day and not seen anything more interesting than a couple of minor celebrities... Admittedly, they were driving along looking very close, while their respective spouses were nowhere to be seen... But I can't exactly arrest them for that.
Just when I think I might die of boredom, my prayers are answered!
A very fancy car, the kind they would describe as a "Prestige Automobile" comes down the interchange... With not a plate in sight.
I flag the car down and motion them to pull over next to my cruiser. filled with confidence I walk up to the driver's window and knock firmly.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to roll down your window. I think we need to talk"
a second later, the back window rolls down and a withered looking hand emerges, beckoning me over. I choose to ignore it and knock at the window again.
"Sir, the window, now."
another second passes, and a voice emerges, to accompany the hand.
"My Driver is under strict instructions to speak only to me. If you wish to resolve this situation, you'll need to come here."
Why is that voice familiar? My brain goes into overdrive, but I can't seem to place it.
I keep my pace measured. Sure, I'll come to the window to talk with you... But I'll do it in my own time, I'm still in charge here damnit!
I approach the window, inside the face that greets me looks like the Crypt Keeper's grandmother... liver spotted skin stretched taut over bones that look sharp enough to carve a roast.
"Good evening Ma'am, I suppose you know why I've stopped you?" | a1e7d684609f49638514cb0ab758dbb2 | ['f280f9fa58054da2934e415be71aee31'] | That ancient face cracks into the slightest of grins, the effect is terrifying.
"If I had to guess, I would say it's because this is your first day on the job, and you're ever so eager."
Something about her tone, the vague hint of condescension, gets my hackles up.
"No ma'am, it's because you're driving illegally. This car has no plates, and under the Central Code if I so chose I could seize it. I won't though, this time, if you can show me your papers."
Her grin vanishes. Good, maybe now she'll take me seriously.
"I suppose I could show you them, if you asked politely."
Oh yeah, now she's going to feel the FULL force of the Central Knights.
"Ma'am... Do you know who I am?"
She laughs. Right in my damn face.
"My little boy, wise young man that he is, has a saying. 'If you ever find yourself about to ask the question "Do you know who I am?", you need to immediatly stop. Becase there are only two answers, and you won't like either one'. So, tell me young man... Do you know what those answers are?"
I find myself momentarily taken aback... What the hell is going on here? Who is this woman and how can she so casually disrespect a man of the law?
"No Ma'am, what are the answers?"
the grin returns, a little wider this time.
"Either they don't know who you are, which is bad as you've made a fool of yourself for asking... Or they know EXACTLY who you are, and they just don't care. That one is far, far worse. However, the fuse is lit, the bridge is crossed... The question has been asked; so I feel I must answer."
I don't know how it happened, or when, but this situation is a little out of my control.
"So, to answer. I don't have the slightest clue who you are...
I don't even notice her hand moving, yet somehow she's holding a phone. It's a popular make, hell I've got one... The only difference I notice is that hers seems to be the model 9. This is of note, as the model 9 hasn't been officially released yet...
I snap back to reality as I hear the shutter sound of her taking a picture of me.
I can tell you this though. In around five seconds I'm going to know everything there is to know about you."
Her smile is a little wider now... almost predatory, like a cat seconds before it pounces on the unaware mouse...
Ping!
"Ah, what do you know, I've got a message!"
She tilts the screen towards me and I catch a brief glimpse of the senders name.
Franklin Ianucci.
Big Frank.
Head of the Ianucci crime family.
I feel a cold sweat break out all over, I don't want to read the message, but I can't help myself.
My stomach drops. It's all there:
My full name,
home address,
National insurance,
and right at the bottom, the kicker.
My wife's work address, and my kids pre-school.
I feel my knees go week and it takes everything I have not to collapse right there, beside the car.
"Now, young man. The way I see it, this can go one of two ways.
I drag my eyes away from the screen and look back towards the woman.
First option; You take a step back, say 'thank you Ma'am, I'm ever so sorry for having stopped you. I hope you have a pleasant day'and let me go about my way. The second option is I reply to this message, and within the hour every thing you've ever known and loved will be ashes."
I take a step back from her window.
"Thank you ma'am" The words stick in my throat. It goes against everything I have stood for since that night, so long ago, but there's too much on the line to do otherwise "I am so sorry for stopping you today, I hope you have a pleasant day."
The window begins to roll back up.
"Wise choice, boy. Maybe next time you'll have a little more respect and I won't have to resort to such crude methods."
She drives away and my gaze falls to my feet.
So much for never feeling weak again. |
2629a96316174c26966d3396ea6dfa70 | ['f2863cf8266545cda5e2ef2e747312c8'] | 'You gotta make the best out of life, Sammo,' smiled Gabriel as he swung his cotton candy bucket at his side. 'For me, that means making people's lives a little more interesting, and also having lots of fun myself, in more ways than one.' He waggled his eyebrows suggestively before being distracted by the reptile house. 'Ooooooh let's go, Sam, come on!' he whined.
"Okay," Sam said, following Gabe into the building. "I've always found herpetology interesting," Sam said, looking at a tank of small lizards.
'Isn't that an STI?' Gabriel asked as he looked around for the giant snakes. He eventually settled himself in front of a tank which contained a python, and watched it as is slid over the dead leaves in its vivarium.
"It's the study of reptiles and amphibians," Sam sighed, joining Gabe by the python. He put his arm around his boyfriend's shoulder and gave him a light kiss on the head. "You're lucky I love you."
'That makes sense,' Gabriel reasoned. He rested his head against Sam as he studied the snake for a few more moments. 'I know I am.'
"I'm lucky too," Sam said. They always seemed to have these conversations in the weirdest places, but he didn't mind.
Gabriel held out his almost empty bucket of cotton candy. 'Want some before I eat the rest?'
Sam pulled a chunk off and stuck it in his mouth. "Thanks," he said as the sugar dissolved on his tongue.
'Huh. I thought you didn't like unhealthy stuff,' said Gabe accusingly, looking at his boyfriend through narrowed eyes as he stuffed the last of the food in his mouth.
"I like it," Sam argued, "I just don't gorge myself on it like you do."
'I do not gorge myself on it!' Gabriel protested. 'Hey, how much sugar was in that?'
"It's like 99.9 percent sugar," Sam said, "the other 0.1 percent is flavoring. It's like eating a pixie stick."
'Funny. I feel a sudden urge to steal a penguin.' He turned to look at Sam gleefully. 'Sam, can we get a penguin?'
"Gabe, we're not getting a penguin," Sam laughed.
'But why not? They're cute and fluffy and totally adorable. Come on, Sam, pleeease?' Gabriel begged as he moved to quickly study the other animals before leaving the reptile house.
"I'm pretty sure that you cannot legally own a penguin. Plus, where would we keep it? It can't survive here, it's too hot."
'The guy from Mr Popper's Penguins did it okay,' said Gabriel as his argument. He often turned to films as justifications for his actions. Not that it usually got him anywhere.
"Fiction, Gabe," Sam argued. Gabe's pout was gone almost immediately when Sam pointed out the alpacas.
'Excuse me, sir, how much would I have to pay you to be allowed to ride on one of the alpacas? Is there a huge difference between alpacas and llamas? How about camels?' Gabriel asked the person who was overlooking the alpacas.
Sam blushed deep red and hissed a quiet "Shut up, Gabriel" as the worker walked away. "You are so embarrassing sometimes."
'But I want an alpaca ride,' pouted Gabe.
"Someday," Sam said, "I will buy you an alpaca and you can ride it all you want."
Gabriel's face lit up with pure joy. 'So when you're a big fancy lawyer and earning the big bucks, you'll let me get my very own alpaca named Alfonso and I can take alpaca rides whenever I want?'
"We are not naming our alpaca Alfonso."
'Why not? Alfonso's a good name for an alpaca, it uses alliteration and everything!'
“If you insist on alliteration, why not something cute, like Alfie?”
'Alfonso's more exciting than Alfie.'
“I'm not going to win this, am I?"
'Nooope. Can we go see the birds now?'
'Alright, let's go see the birds,' Sam agreed.
'Are you sure you know where you're going?' asked Gabriel as they walked past the mini aquarium, which he knew for a fact to be nowhere near the aviary.
"We're taking the long way," Sam said, reclaiming Gabriel's hand. "I want to see the monkeys."
'Why though? All they do is eat bananas and throw their own poop,' said Gabriel, disgruntled.
"They have prehensile tails, and if you don't think that's cool, I'm not sure I'll get you that alpaca."
'Not my alpaca! Sure prehemewhatsit tails are cool, just don't crush my dreams of having an alpaca,' said Gabriel hurriedly.
Sam chuckled. "I love how we're talking about the future," he said, knowing that they would have to talk about it more seriously sooner rather than later. Graduation was quickly approaching and Sam was pretty sure that would change things in their relationship. For now, though, he was glad to talk about it in the vaguest terms.
Gabriel's sugar rush was momentarily sobered by the subject. 'I think any future with you in it is ideal,' he said. The sugar soon prevailed over his conscience, for he added 'and Alfonso. We can't forget about Alfonso.'
Sam laughed and felt a rush of affection for the way Gabriel was always able to make him smile. "That's kind of a weird ideal," he teased.
'Alpacas make everything ideal, Samsquatch,' Gabriel said knowingly.
They had made it to the monkey cage by now and Sam smiled as he watched the baby monkeys swing on tires and pick bugs from another monkey's fur. "Seriously, how do you not like monkeys?"
Gabriel looked at the baby monkeys. 'Sure, they're cute. But have you seen baboons?' He shuddered. 'Ew. I just prefer birds, myself.'
"Alright, bird boy, let's go see your feathered friends."
'Bird _man_ ,' said Gabriel. 'If I'm gonna be a superhero, I don't want people thinking I'm some young, adolescent teen to be used for getting cats out of trees.'
"Are you saying you wouldn't save a kitty from a tree?" | cd8b922e9c7844f2ae2d27610b58a72f | ['f2863cf8266545cda5e2ef2e747312c8'] |
Merry Christmas
It was Christmas, and Gabriel had the perfect present lined up for Sam. Admittedly, Christmas wasn't his favourite time of year, but it was fun when he spent the days huddled with Sam on the couch in front of the TV.
They had decided to spend Christmas Day together, which had begun with Gabriel waking Sam up ridiculously early with a constant call of “Sam. Sam wake up. It's Christmas. Sam!”
Sam grumbled. "I did not get Dean to agree to a sleepover just so you could wake me up at an ungodly hour. Come back to bed."
“But think of the presents, Sammo!” Gabriel cried, with the energy of a small, jumpy child.
"I got you one present, Kali gave you hers before she left yesterday and you're not seeing anyone else today." Sam pointed out, but his resolve was crumbling and he was starting to feel more awake. "At least make me breakfast."
“But you have to open my present to you,” pointed out Gabe. “Of course I will, Samsquatch.”
He left and prepared Sam some coffee and a few slices of toast with some ham and lettuce. These he put on a tray, which he carried back to Sam, who was still in bed. “Here you go,” he said, kissing the top of the other's head.
"You suck at making breakfast," Sam laughed but ate the food anyway. The coffee was surprisingly good, though.
“We can't all be Master chefs, Sam, you know that,” said Gabriel as he sat on the edge of the bed, waiting impatiently for Sam to hurry up and eat.
Sam finished his coffee and set the tray on the bedside table. "I didn't get a good morning kiss," he pointed out.
Gabriel leaned over to give Sam a quick peck on the lips before withdrawing. “You taste like coffee,” he said absentmindedly.
"You gave me the coffee. Now get back here and kiss me properly."
“I did, true,” Gabriel murmured as he leaned back in and kissed Sam slowly, movement languid and calm. It was a contrast to the energetic demeanor he had had just a few minutes ago.
Sam melted into the kiss, thinking there was no way he could ever tire of Gabe's lips.
After a while, Gabriel drew back reluctantly. Partly because he needed to breathe, and partly because he really, really wanted Sam to see what Gabe had gotten him for Christmas.
"Do we have to get out of bed today?" Sam asked with a laugh.
“I've already got out of bed,” said Gabe. “But I don't believe it's obligatory to leave, no. Except to get presents.”
"Fine," Sam agreed, throwing the blankets off and getting to his feet. "I don't get why you're so excited. My family never really did Christmas."
“Exactly, you should be more excited than anyone!” said Gabriel as he took hold of Sam's hand and led him through to the living room.
Sam shook his head indulgently. Gabriel's energy was one of the best things about him, but it was a lot to handle in the morning.
“Don't be such a sourpuss, Sam,” Gabe pouted as he pulled his boyfriend over to the modest Christmas tree that stood a little away from the TV.
“I'm not a sourpuss," Sam argued, but he knew he could be a bit hard to handle in the morning as well.
“Oh shut up yeah you are, Mr Grumpypants,” smiled Gabe goofily before he stood on his tiptoes and kissed Sam on the nose.
"And you’re a five-year-old on speed," Sam said, "which means, you open your gift first."
Gabriel squealed in excitement as he picked up the present under the tree that wasn't for Sam. He shook it gently, trying to figure out the contents. “It isn't a cockring, is it?”
"You're not that big," Sam teased. "Just open it."
“You could have hidden a smaller present inside a big one,' Gabriel shrugged as he carefully pried open a corner of the wrapping paper. “I see cookies. Sam, there are cookies. I repeat, there are cookies in my wrapping paper.”
"Very good, Gabriel, what else do you see?" Sam mocked slightly.
“Words. Cookies and words.” the pieces worked to fit together in Gabriel’s mind, and he let out an “oh” of understanding. He ripped open the rest of the paper and his assumptions were confirmed. “Holy crap I've always wanted to make cookies,” he said in awe as he stared down at the Mrs. Fields Cookie Book in his hands.
"It was my mom's favorite cook book," Sam explained. "I found a copy and thought you would like it."
“Thank you Sam, I love it,” Gabriel said. He jumped up from where he had sat himself on the floor to kiss his boyfriend again.
The kiss took Sam by surprise but he kissed him back for a brief moment and then pulled away.
“Now come on, you gotta open your present,” said Gabriel, full of a childlike glee.
"Alright," Sam agreed, allowing a package to be shoved into his hands. He tore the paper off and was left with a hardcover book and a small vinyl record. The book was full of law cases involving wards of the state and the album was the Heat of the Moment single.
"Dude, Asia?" Sam gave a little laugh before setting the gifts down and pulling Gabe into a hug. "I love them, thank you."
“You're welcome,” Gabriel whispered into Sam's ear as he was embraced. “I hope you like the book, too.”
"I do," Sam assured him. "I'm sure there were a lot of important precedents set in those cases and I can't wait to read all about them." |
e5ed1641057c466a82496f2874839e58 | ['f2927da399a246658a000e0fcc380f01'] |
Neon Blood
ＮＥＯＮ ＢＬＯＯＤ
“Through violence you may murder the hater, but you do not murder hate.”
The rain battered against her window. The bright lights of the central Los Angeles shone through her window, giving her room that blue glow of night. She put on her leather jacket and slid the sawed-off shotgun into the custom strap under her jacket made just for carrying it. Tonight was her first real call and she wasn’t about to fuck this up. She picked up her guitar case, slung it over her back, and headed out the door, down the stairs of her apartment building, and out into the rainy, luminescent night. She put the keys of her Suzuki Katana and heard that all too familiar rev of Japanese motor tech. She put on her helmet and sped off into the city.
◄◄ REW
(July 5th, 1984, 9:20 AM)
The sun rose over the Los Angeles skyline and through her window, forcing her to wake up. Maddi sat up on her bed and wiped the sleep out of her eyes. She looked out the window into the shadow of the city.
“What’s new today LA?” she asked to a silent bedroom, half-expecting the towering skyscrapers to answer her rhetorical question, or perhaps the rays of sunlight to spell out a magical response. Even in a city as lively and sun-soaked as LA, she found no excitement. Ever since she lost Amanda a year ago, every day, every action had just become a thick muck that she had to drag herself through every day. The mere act of living was exhausting. Nothing was exciting anymore, nothing made her feel anything anymore.
Maddi dragged herself out of her bed, the springs in her mattress squeaking as she stood up. The whole damn apartment was cheap, but hey, it’s not like she could afford anything else on her very limited, non-employed budget. Every purchase was a 100% expense, and she was running low. Maddi grabbed the keys for her mailbox and went down to the apartment lobby to open it. Inside there was a pink leaflet and a package. Confused, as she didn’t remember ordering anything, nor having anything being sent to her, she took the dubious mail back to her apartment and set it on the table, cluttered with late bills and other paperwork she conveniently couldn’t be assed to look at.
But she had to. She needed somewhere to live. Maddi halved a bagel and put it in her cheap toaster as she read the bright pink leaflet.
Thank you for subscribing to our newsletter. We appreciate your interest in our cause. America is a tune. It must be sung together.
She remembered. She remembered picking up a subscription for this thing. Ever since the war with Russia in Hawaii, the two superpowers have been on the edge of their seat. And while Maddi was never one for politics or war, the idea of another power having such control over her home country gave her a rusty taste in her mouth. Though, there seemed to be no newsletter that the leaflet spoke of. Maddi cut open the box with a cheap paring knife and was understandably confused at the contents. Inside was a plastic oni mask, similar to one used in old Japanese theater and another paper.
Target is a Mr. Seon on Wilshire Boulevard. Discretion is of the utmost essence. Failure is not an option. We will be watching you.
Maddi felt a cold shiver all over her body. What was this? Was she being watched? She had rarely ever been scared in her life, especially after losing Amanda, but this was different. Who was watching her? She looked out her window down into the streets. Just commuters and panhandlers swindling from those who needed
wait
was someone just
there?
No...
Maybe...
As she was in a cold sweat, her heart almost daring to leap from her fleshy cage, her bagel popped out of the toaster.
►►FWD
(9:15 PM)
(https://youtu.be/-h5snZTfoEA)
Maddi was sitting in her car. She was shaking. She frantically looked out of all of her windows. She couldn’t see a damned thing in the musky yellow luminescence of the incandescent street lights, and the bright neon lights of Korean storefronts and strip malls only made glares in her eyes. Her hands were shaking as she read the note again in the pale light of her car’s indoor light system.
Mr. Seon was a prominent figure in Koreatown, situated comfortably in a high-rise apartment that towered over the rest of the small, pathetic apartments, but even then the “high-rise” was puny and pathetic compared to Los Angeles’s real skyscrapers. He was also a prominent political figure, and an avid supporter of communism and some say, albeit behind closed doors and in hushed tones, that he supported the Russians. While he almost always ran in general elections, his partiality towards communism in this modern era made him quite renowned as a supposed traitor.
Maddi was picking her black painted nails.
What am I supposed to do? What’s going on?
What am I doing here?
Am I supposed to
kill him?
Maddi picked up the oni mask, staring into its jolly, grinning face. The oni was a symbol of evil in Japanese theater. Of demons and devils, ogres and trolls. She guessed she could be likened to one herself. She always looked unkempt, in no part thanks to her ever growing depression over the loss of her spouse, she was unemployed, barely skirting by on horrible welfare policies, and she made no effort to do anything, most days boiling down to watching PBS and whatever else might have piqued her interest on public access cable.
As she sighed, her breath wavered, and she put the mask into the cardboard box it had been shipped in and stepped out of the car. She quickly darted into Mr. Seon’s building and was stopped by the concierge. | 4f1f2fd5bba14359a44c3435fffd26aa | ['f2927da399a246658a000e0fcc380f01'] |
秋の日の恋人たち (Akihino koibito-tachi) (Autumn Day Lovers)
Maddi awoke with a start. Nothing new. Ever since she beat back the Abyss and her own dark manifestation a year ago, she still had nightmares. The burning flesh, the blood, her bloodlust when she used the Brand. It was still fresh in her mind and she couldn’t seem to shake it. Sure, everything ended happily for her, but the events of that day still haunted her.
Amanda was awake next to her.
“Nightmares again?” Amanda asked, her calm, tired voice bringing instant tranquility to Maddi’s racing heart.
“Yeah… It’s fine. I’m gonna make some coffee. Do you want any?” Maddi said, sitting up on the queen size bed. All she wore was a simple black camisole, her breasts lazily hanging in the chest area without support. One could easily see the scars of battle that dotted her body like a strange, alien pattern.
“I’d love that sweetie,” Amanda said groggily, quickly falling back asleep. Maddi smiled lightly and stood up, put on her robe, and walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Maddi opened the blinds of the sliding door to their balcony and smiled at the warm sun shining through the glass door. They had bought this loft on Lombard Street about a month after the Abyssal Advent, and with the money that people were giving to Maddi for her actions, they could have easily afforded something much more exorbitant, even with Toronto’s insanely high-priced real estate.
But Maddi didn’t want that. She was just fine with their simple little loft in Downtown East. They had thought about living in the country, but Maddi just couldn’t think about life anywhere but the city. She’s lived here her whole life. There was just something so enticing about city life that she just couldn’t leave. Sure, the traffic was bad, and the subway was still confusing, but she didn’t care. It was all familiar to her.
Plus, even if they wanted to live in the country, with Maddi’s work as a guitarist AND a vocalist for her band, it really wouldn’t have worked out regardless.
Maddi brought Amanda her coffee just the way she liked it. Black with only one sugar. When she came back to the bedroom, Amanda was getting dressed. She looked over her shoulder and smiled when she took her drink. Maddi, as always, thought her wife looked absolutely stunning. The sun streaming into the dark room through the blinds, highlighting Amanda’s beautiful, pearlescent skin.
“Thank you.” Amanda reached up and kissed Maddi on the cheek. Maddi returned her lover’s affections and as Amanda embraced her and held her head to her breasts, Maddi felt like the moment would last forever as she ran her fingers through Amanda’s long, chestnut hair.
She could live with this for a little bit longer.
Maddi helped Amanda put on her coat before they left. It was a nice, crisp day outside and Maddi thought it’d be a nice day to go for a nice romantic walk in St. James Park down on east King Street. They walked the way. It was only 3 minutes. Amanda held onto Maddi’s arm as they walked through the busy morning streets full of commuters and 9-to-5’ers on their way to work.
They got to the park and walked around the trails for a bit. Maddi was never really an outside person. As a kid she always just stayed inside and played video games or listened to music. But now that she had a wife, life wasn’t as simple anymore. Now her career as a musician took up most of her time, and she rarely had any time to decompress and spend a nice day with her wife. Maddi looked at the trees with their beautiful colors and felt all her stress and bad memories just melt away and she felt unseasonably warm for such a chilly day.
“Wow. It’s beautiful…” she said, almost out of breath, despite having very much air in her lungs. Amanda shushed her.
“Just take it in sweetheart.”
After about thirty minutes of their walk, the couple sat down at a bench in front of the eponymous St. James Cathedral. Given that it was only a Saturday morning, there was no service, though there would be later in the afternoon. While Maddi was never a woman of faith at any point in her life, she did enjoy the wonderful gothic architecture of churches and temples across the world.
Finally, Amanda broke the silence.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked.
“Yeah, it is. Makes me wonder why the hell I never got outside as a kid.”
After about another minute of tranquil silence, Amanda spoke again.
“So you still think back to… that day, huh?”
Maddi’s heart rate went up a little, and she could feel anxiety scratching at the back of her mind.
“Yeah… It’s such shit. I hate it. It’s all over, but I can’t shake what Dark Me said…” It was still fresh in her mind. Maddi remembered the image of her shadow doppelganger’s magical form breaking apart, revealing her skull as she screamed those words that still haunt her.
I will never leave you.
She was right. Maddi remembered back to when Angie told her that Dark Maddi was an Abyssal manifestation of everything that was wrong with her. Her self-loathing as a teenager, her depression when she lost Amanda years ago, her anxiety, her PTSD, everything that fucked her up inside suddenly had become real and very dangerous not just to her, but to the entire world, indeed, the entire mortal plane. And even though Maddi had both defeated her physically and mentally, she guessed the mental victory wasn’t entirely true. For those words seemed to still ring true even a year later.
Suddenly, she snapped out of her spiraling train of thought as she felt Amanda lean on her shoulder, sighing. Maddi brushed the hair out of her eyes and stared out at the towering skyscrapers. As she did she heard Amanda’s sweet, soft voice.
“I’ll always be with you too sweetie…”
Later that night, Maddi made dinner for just the two of them. Just simple chicken katsu sandwiches on fresh rolls from the bakery. Classic Japanese recipe her dad taught always made as a kid when he would come home late. They ate their sandwiches as twilight descended on the Toronto skyline through the sliding door. The TV in their living room blared the local news and the light in their loft complimented the mood perfectly.
Later, as they watched the bright lights of the city from their balcony, Maddi heard her lover’s words again in her ears and thought to herself that Amanda always would be with her. Even while she was dead, she watched over her as an angel, and even now it felt like nothing could tear them apart.
“Yeah, I’ll be with you forever too Mandy…”
**Author's Note:**
> Just a little gay story I decided to write about my gay OCs. Takes place a year after Part 3 of my series Punk Is Dead. (Which isn't on here but I'll post a synopsis on my Tumblr so you boys can read all about it.) |
5e83cf1c31b647098f38e71b72cad083 | ['f2a12e2c413e4fecab1c8acfc1b86918'] |
1. Chapter 1
**Author's Note:**
* Translation into Русский available: LINK by LINK
* Translation into 中文 available: LINK by LINK
> Blanket permission for translations, podfic, fanfic in this timeline/universe, fanart, etc. Have fun, let me know if possible and link to the fic, please. Thank you! :)
>
> This story is finished and will be published in regular intervals.
>
> I'm very grateful for my wonderful beta readers: emptyheart, NiaKantorka, obermietze, Gwilbers, Cathy_Kitty_Pretty.
> Thank you so much for all your help! All remaining errors are mine.
_It was a blur. Hannibal blocked his arm and grabbed him, but Will hit him with his foot and they fell together with the glass between them. It cut into Will’s thigh and he grunted and rolled away from Hannibal. Warmth spread with the blood from the wound and Will felt a familiar sluggishness. He laughed and tried to hold the wound but his arms didn’t follow his commands. Hannibal’s silhouette came up above him and Will felt pressure on the thigh._
_“Keep still,” Hannibal ordered with a rough voice but he didn’t sound confident. Will wished the light was on so he could see Hannibal’s face. The warmth was still spreading around his leg, but his hands and arms were cold._
_It always ended like this between them, with blood rushing out of his veins and burning on his skin. Will closed his eyes and from far away he heard Hannibal call his name._
_“Will! Will!?”_
**~ONE~**
“Will?” he heard Hannibal say again. “Will?”
Dying had felt peaceful this time. Hannibal had been with him, and there hadn’t been a great amount of pain. But he was in pain now. The pain of fever, like his head would crack open any moment. He tried to open his eyes, but his body didn’t react. While it wasn’t a feeling he was used to, it did feel familiar.
“Will, you are having an episode. I want you to hand me your gun!” Hannibal said.
Will shook his head confused as a shudder ran through him.
“Will?”
Hannibal’s voice sounded like he was far away. Will felt himself fall. He expected to hit cold ocean water, but it was a hard floor that he landed on. Will convulsed as he heard a loud shot. His hand hurt. He realized he was holding a gun only when he felt someone take it. He couldn’t stop them, and he couldn’t open his eyes; his whole body was straining against something he couldn’t identify.
“He’s had a seizure,” a familiar sounding male voice said. It reminded him of blood in the night snow. “But that doesn’t seem to bother you…?”
“It seems to have been a mild seizure,” Hannibal said. Will wanted to look at him, but his body wouldn’t react.
“Are you the man who claimed to be the Chesapeake Ripper?” Hannibal asked with honest curiosity in his voice. Suddenly, Will remembered this moment and he remembered who would speak next.
“Why do you say claimed?” Abel Gideon asked.
“Because you’re not. You know you’re not, and you don’t know much more about who you are beyond that.”
_Because Hannibal is the Ripper_ , Will thought confused. He had done this before but last time he had been standing, not lying on the ground. He had remembered it later in the BSHCI after the encephalitis had been treated.
“A terrible thing to have your identity taken from you,” Hannibal continued. Will wanted to scream, but his body wouldn’t let him. He could be dead for all he was able to move right now, though the pain in his head meant he was alive and hurting.
“I’m taking it back one piece at a time. You should see the pieces I got out of my psychiatrist.”
_Frederick_ , Will remembered. Burned and partially consumed by the dragon. _No_ , Will thought, _that hadn’t happened yet_.
No, that was wrong. He hadn’t met Frederick yet, or had he? He had travelled through time and no one else remembered. He had seduced Hannibal and had died; bled out in his house after fighting with Hannibal.
“Alana Bloom was one of your psychiatrists, too. Is that right?” Hannibal asked.
“Yes. Dr. Bloom,” Gideon said slowly, thoughtfully.
But this had happened the first time. When Hannibal had been his psychiatrist and not his lover, when Will had been ill.
_Encephalitis_ , Will remembered. He had a seizure because of the encephalitis. He had to be sick again, Hannibal’s patient again, and he had to be in his dining room together with Abel Gideon who had just escaped from the BSHCI.
“I can tell you where to find her,” Hannibal offered to Gideon, and Will felt tears escape his closed eyes. He knew how this would go and he didn’t want it to happen again. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to… to go home. But where and when was home? It had been his house and his dogs and then his life with Molly. And after killing the Red Dragon and the fall from the cliffs and traveling back in time, it had been with the past’s Hannibal. But the Hannibal of the past had shot his dogs, and Will had died, again.
Will didn’t understand what was happening. Had he traveled a little in his personal future? Or was all he remembered a hallucination of his mind still suffering from encephalitis? Panic overwhelmed him and he couldn’t think, couldn’t listen. His body wasn’t reacting, and everything was wrong. He couldn’t be here. He didn’t want to be here.
Will was pulled out of his panic by hands touching him gently. His head and neck were lifted from the floor. Will knew these hands. Hannibal’s hands had hurt him, comforted him, fucked him. They were familiar, and still he wanted to cringe away from the touch and the following embrace. Hannibal must have sat down and pulled him against his chest. | 24f0dc9af9b44257a7c9e6c0620ee425 | ['f2a12e2c413e4fecab1c8acfc1b86918'] | Will showered quickly. He was too excited to have Hannibal close by to stay away from him for too long. When he came out of the bathroom he wondered if he should put on fresh fancy clothes. Only twice had he eaten with Hannibal without being properly dressed. Will went to his dresser and stopped as he saw Hannibal had picked up and folded his own clothes. They were lying on Will’s dresser and Hannibal’s bag was still downstairs. Following his instincts, Will put on rarely used pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and went downstairs.
He found Hannibal in the kitchen, surrounded by Will’s dogs as he was checking the casserole. He had put on fresh clothes, which was a pity. For a few precious moments Will had expected him to cook naked, but he must have gotten some clothes from his overnight bag and washed himself in the downstairs bathroom.
“Now I’m feeling underdressed,” he said from the kitchen door. Hannibal finished his work and closed the oven again before he turned to Will. His eyes wandered over Will’s body and he smiled.
“I believe it can be overlooked as we are having an informal dinner,” he said.
_Also, you like the easy access_ , Will thought and smiled satisfied with his own choice of clothing.
“Is the casserole okay?” he asked and Hannibal nodded.
“We will be able to eat in 50 to 60 minutes,” he answered.
Will felt too mellow to suggest any more talk about murder or cannibalism.
“Would you like to check if my piano is still in tune?” he asked and received a delighted look from Hannibal.
It was weird to sit down with Hannibal and play on Will’s little piano. There was barely space for both of them on its tiny wooden bench but Hannibal didn’t seem to care, so Will decided not to be embarrassed about it.
“Who taught you?” Hannibal asked after Will had finished playing a simple melody, rather stiffly.
“I taught myself,” Will answered. “I liked the idea of playing piano, so when I bought the house, I picked up this old thing and some sheet music books and tutorials. You were taught professionally?”
“My uncle taught me,” Hannibal replied and played a familiar sounding classical melody. “He adopted me after my parents died.”
Will made himself stay calm and relaxed, hoping Hannibal would divulge more information. He wasn't disappointed.
“He hoped it would make me connect with him, but it became obvious very quickly that I needed a more experienced teacher than him.”
“Did he find another way to connect with you?” Will asked, and Hannibal gave him an appraising look, while he kept playing.
“Yes,” he said after a moment of just music. “He is an artist and taught me. He would have preferred me to paint like himself but I prefer the clear lines of drawings.”
“Black and white, clear borders,” Will said. Within his head he was seeing it clearly. A young Hannibal sketching reality as he saw it while his uncle tried him to get him to play with colors and let his fantasies roam freely.
“Buildings and anatomy,” Will said, associating. “Did you ever show him your own designs?”
Hannibal stopped playing and Will felt himself wrenched out of his mental reconstruction of Hannibal’s youth. To his relief, Hannibal was looking at him with reverence.
“My clever boy,” Hannibal said and raised his hand to cup Will’s face.
“Sorry,” Will said and leaned against the hand. “I don’t do it on purpose.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Hannibal told him in a firm voice. “I’m flattered you find me interesting enough to empathize with me so deeply.”
He leaned in and softly kissed Will’s mouth. “And if you keep apologizing, I will eventually tire of it, so you should consider using apologies sparingly.”
“You won’t tire of me,” Will disagreed and kissed Hannibal back. “I’m too surprising.”
“That you are,” Hannibal agreed. “Shall we play some more?”
Will shook his head. “You play and I’ll listen?”
“If you wish.”
“I do wish,” Will said and stayed beside Hannibal listening and enjoying the company. Briefly his mind drifted to a future after the fall from the cliff and a similar scene somewhere in a house of Hannibal’s, but he pushed the fantasy away. He had this Hannibal now and with every moment Will spent with him, he felt closer to him and more conjoined.
_I will bind you to me_ , Will thought.
When Hannibal stopped playing Will was startled from his thoughts. Confused he looked at Hannibal and found him smiling at him.
“It’s time,” he said to Will. “The casserole will be ready in a few minutes.”
Will set the table while Hannibal arranged the food to his satisfaction in the kitchen. It all felt startlingly familiar when he served the delicious looking meal.
“How long did you stay with your uncle?” Will asked as they were eating. The meat was delicious and it made him feel guilty. He needed a distraction and Hannibal had broached the topic and Will was very curious about Hannibal’s past.
“My family died when I was eight years old, I spent some time in an orphanage until my uncle could be found,” Hannibal said without much accentuation. “He had neither expected nor planned to be responsible for a child, but he and his wife looked after me during my adolescence.”
Will smiled as he imagined a teenage Hannibal.
“Do you still see them?”
“My uncle’s wife is Japanese, after I left for university, they moved from France to her home country,” Hannibal explained.
It didn’t answer Will’s question but he let it go and didn’t ask further. The idea of Hannibal having living family, apart from Chiyoh, was very alluring. |
c339dfa30e514bfeafde45c4f18a6456 | ['f2ab3f8533e64c80958fe221702e23fe'] | Can I ask you Something?
**Author's Note:**
> Kai and Rhys are my FAVORITE couple. I love to imagine what goes on with them. My favorite time frame for them is early teens. This piece just happened. I’d put it as early book 2 time.
“Can I ask you something?” Kai inquired as he and Rhys laid spooning after one of their hot make-out episodes.
Rhys nosed Kai’s ear as his arm tightened around Kai’s waist. “Sure.”
“How many have you had?” Kai voiced timidly.
“How many what?” Rhys asked, as he continued to run his lips across Kai’s shoulder. Kai trembled from the kiss, pulling Rhys’ arm tighter around him.
“You know…partners,” Kai responded, for lack of a better word.
“Partners in what?” Rhys questioned, still not conceiving what Kai was trying so hard to imply.
Kai turned and laid facing Rhys. “Seriously, Rhys. I’d like to know how many others you’ve been with before me. Not their names or anything, just how many.”
Rhys narrowed his eyes at Kai. “Why are you asking me such a stupid question?”
“Why is it a stupid question?”
“Because, you know the answer.”
“No I don’t!” Kai asserted. How could he know something so personal? It’s not like Rhys talked about stuff like that.
“Well, you should know the answer,” Rhys shot out. “We’ve only lived together most of our lives.”
“You’ve never talked to me about girlfriends or boyfriends. How am I supposed to know?” Kai said defensively.
“Because there weren’t any!” Rhys snapped. “OK? You happy?” He turned onto his back, folding his arms in annoyance.
Kai stared at him, mouth opened in surprise. “I don’t believe you,” he said softly.
“Why? Do you think I’m some male hooker, going out and screwing everybody?” Rhys said turning his head and glaring at Kai.
“No,” Kai said with a wounded voice. “That’s not what I think.”
“Then why are you asking?”
“Because…”
“Because why?”
Kai stared at him, trying to find the words. Rhys raised his eyebrows, questioning him.
“Because...You know how to touch me,” Kai finally admitted. “You know how to touch me and make me tremble. You know how to kiss me in a way that makes my toes curl. How could you just know how to do that?”
Rhys’ eyes softened and he turned into Kai. He smoothed Kai’s hair from his forehead. “I know everything about you; I can smell what you like, what you need. And along the way I learned what pleases you. And what most annoys you,” he smirked. “But being with you is so natural,...so comfortable, I just know what to do,” he thought for a moment. “I can’t explain it better. That’s just what it is.” He kissed Kai softly then laid his head on Kai’s chest.
Kai laid there, pondering Rhys’ words, absently running his fingers through Rhys’ hair. “So I was your first kiss?” he asked.
“Yep.”
Kai looked down to the top of Rhys’ head. “Does it bother you that you weren’t mine?”
Rhys was quiet for a moment, then he rolled over to face Kai again, resting his head on his hand. “It did,” he said. “A lot.” Then he chuckled, “You remember my reaction when I found out you and Quinn made out-“
“We didn’t make out,” Kai whined, rolling his eyes. “We were just experimenting.”
Rhys grinned at him. “OK.”
“We were!”
“If that’s what you say-“
“It is.”
Rhys continued, “But, yeah, it bothered me. I felt gutted. The one thing I wanted more than anything I lost.”
Kai stared at him in confusion. “What thing?” He asked.
Rhys looked at him with a pained look on his face. ”I wanted my lips to be the first ones to ever touch yours.”
Kai stared at him in surprise. “You did?”
Rhys looked at him and gave a sad smile. “Yeah, but...Oh well.”
Kai rested his forehead against Rhys’, “I’m sorry,” he said.
Rhys cupped Kai’s cheek in his hand then kissed him softly. “It’s OK. I won in the end.”
Kai smiled at him. “You did,” he admitted. “But, in a way, you were my first.”
“How?” Rhys asked, amused.
“It was you I pictured in my head when Quinn’s lips touched mine. Your eyes I looked into, your lips I felt.”
Rhys looked to him in surprise, dumbfounded but this admission. Then Kai was on his back, Rhys’ weight settling on him, mouth on his, hands roaming freely. Rhys tore his lips away from Kai’s, repeating his mantra he’d told Kai over and over. “We are meant to be together,” Rhys said. “God, I don’t ever want to be without you. I wouldn’t survive.” He buried his face into Kai’s neck. “Please! Never leave me! Ever!”
Breathless, Kai took Rhys’ face in his hands and rested his forehead against his. “Never.”
**Author's Note:**
> This is the sappiest thing ever, i know. I cringe when i read it, but i don’t care! I love Rhys and Kai so much. I don’t know if they are together forever in Dead Things, but they will be in my pretend Dead Things. | 49900e48b7ad47bb9f1415ad54d49666 | ['f2ab3f8533e64c80958fe221702e23fe'] | Ready for Patrol
**Author's Note:**
> This is a small scene of how I imagined Isa bringing the kids on as patrol. The timing would be after LYWTAC and before book 1. Enjoy!
Isa sat in her usual spot, on Wren’s knee, while she addressed them about the current responsibilities of the Bella Donna Pack. Tristan and Neoma sat on the floor in front of Isa, Kai and Quinn on the couch. Rhys stood against the wall behind Kai and Quinn, glancing at them occasionally with a look of both annoyance and jealousy.
“So with Gen and Hadie moving away,” Isa explained, “I will need all you to take up a patrol shift at night.”
“So we are excused from homework?” Kai asked excitedly. “Excellent!”
“I’m sorry kid,” Wren responded, “but ‘no homework’ isn’t up for grabs.”
“You will each take a patrol shift,” Isa continued, “3 hours during the week, 5 on weekends. This is in addition to your diner shift.”
“Aww, come on Isa! Are you trying to kill us?” Kai exclaimed.
“Yes, Kai! I’ve been trying to kill you since you got here,” Isa quipped, rolling her eyes. Rhys snickered at that, earning him an angry glare from Kai.
“We always patrol in pairs, NO exceptions! Wren says all of you are trained and able to handle most situations, so the pairing will be as such…”
“I call Quinn!” Kai shouts.
“I want Neoma,” added Tristan.
“Wren will be with both Neoma and Tristan, I will take Quinn and Kai will be with Rhys.”
“What?” shouted Kai. “You are trying to kill me! Isa, he won’t have my back. He hates me!” he added as Rhys rolled his eyes.
“Rhys would never let anything happen to you,” Isa told him. Kai glowered at her.
“Isa, I am privileged you are willing to risk your life being paired with me, “Quinn said. “As Wren has probably told you, I’m really not much of a fighter.”
“Because you’re a klutz,” Tristan said. Quinn looked at her with big hurt eyes.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dagger!” Quinn said to her. Tristan pretended she didn’t hear the nickname he called her.
“Quinn, you are better than you give yourself credit for,” Isa said. “I am not at all worried about having you as a partner.” Quinn looked embarrassed, but he puffed out his chest a bit, Isa’s comment giving him a small bit of confidence.
“OK, we’re all clear here, correct?” Isa warned them. “There will be NO fooling around, no wandering off and NO trying to be a hero. If you come across something threatening, don’t give them a chance to strike but don’t you go challenging them either. Understood?”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“Excellent! I love when everyone is in agreement!” |
14b2b51065b743d48ddd1ad7c5326edc | ['f2f20a2b82a343ec816cc77a4d33c4b1'] | I sigh and sling my bag over my shoulder, “History wasn't very kind to people who are different, and I don't think Merlin would want you to know some of the stuff that happened to him.”
Gwen nods in understanding and continues to read ‘victorian era’.
Inlook at the others and point to the foyer. “All right, you know what you have to do.”
The others grab on to me and close their eyes. Gwaine squeezes his tight and I laugh lightly. I turn my head to look at Gwen and Lancelot. “We'll be back soon.”
With that I close my eyes and think of the secluded alley next to the hotel Merlin is staying at. With a pop, I hear the sounds of cars honking and people talking. I open my eyes and look at the rest of the group.
"Whatever you do,” I warn the group. "Try not to goggle at everything you see okay?”
Everyone nods, and we make our way out of the alley and into the crowded streets of New York City. The Camelotians stare at the honking cars inching past slowly, and the large hoards of people trying to get where they need to be. I whistle to get their attention, and together we walk to the hotel. When we walk into the hotel, the others stare at the two-story high ceilings with crystal chandeliers. I sigh at them and walk over to the concierge desk. The others start to follow, but I hold my hand up to stop them. I continue to the desk alone. The man standing behind the desk stares at me concerned.
"Can I help you.” He asks while looking at me up and down with an unimpressed look on his face.
I smile really brightly and giggle a little. "Hi! My name is Ally Emery. I'm looking for my older brother, Martin Emery’s suite.” I tilt my head to the side and pout. “He’s staying here for fashion week and I wanted to surprise him, but I don't know what floor he’s on. Can you by any chance direct me to his suite?” I raise my head back up and smile. “Oh, it will be so fun to surprise him!”
The concierge looks shocked for a second then smiles brightly. “Why yes, Miss Emery, I would be happy to help.” He turns around to work on the computer. While he's turned around I frown.
_"Stupid rich people.”_
When he starts to turn around I smile again.
"Mr. Emery is staying in the empire suite on the nineteenth floor. “
I smile even wider than the man thought possible and clap. “Oh thank you! He's going to love this!”
The man smiles in return, “I am happy to be of service. If you are in need of anything thing else, please do call the main desk.”
I nod my head and walk back to the others. They're standing in a close group staring around. I pull magic around them and shopping bags spear in behind them.
“Alright!” I call to the group in the pearly voice. “I found Martin’s suite! You can carry his presents and follow me!” The others look at me confused.
Iwalk over to Gaius and grab his arm. "Come on grandfather, let's go!"
I grab a small box and walk over to the elevators. The others catch on to what I'm doing and grab the rest of the bags and follow me. When we get to the elevators I wait with Gaius and allow the others to get in first. I walk into the elevator and wave at the concierge who's watching us. I press the button to floor nineteen and continue to smile with a dopey grin until the door closes. When it does close, I drop the charade and lean against the wall of the elevator.
“Why did you act like that?” Perceval asked me. “Why didn't you Just ask to see Merlin instead of lying like that.”
I looked at him then rolled my eyes. “Right, ‘cause saying ‘hi my name is Alex, I'm here With Arthur Pendragon looking for my father Merlin! Can you tell me what room he's in?’ Won't make me end up in an asylum. If I told him that I just wanted to see Merlin, he wouldn’t let me in.” Just then, the elevator door opens and I walk out. The others quickly rush out and stand far away from it.
I sigh and walk down the hallway. When I get to the corner I stop.
Elyan looks at me confused. “What's wrong why did-”
I hold my hand up to silence him and place my other against the wall. A strong force is vibrating the walls. I frown and place my hand on the ground. The vibrations are stronger and more erratic.
_"Merlin was here.”_
I stand up and follow the trail of magic until it leads through a door. I press my hand on the lock and push my magic through it. The door opens up and the six of us file through. I continued to follow the magic but had to stop. I turn around the room slowly to find the trail, but it mingles with dozens of other trails with the same magical energy.
"Whoa.” I sit down on the white couch near me, head spinning like a top. Arthur rushes over to me and stands in front of me. "Hey what's wrong? Are you okay?”
I grimace and nod. “There are too many magic trails in here to follow the one that leads to Merlin.” I shake my head and look up into Arthur's eyes. “ I can't find him with magic.”
I look towards the others to see Morgana is starting to look I'll. I stand up and put a hand on her shoulder. “It's not worth it to make yourself ill.” Morgana nods and stands by Gaius. | 7f739d4ab9b64b5bbb8e8097b8c46547 | ['f2f20a2b82a343ec816cc77a4d33c4b1'] | Jessica ignores me and stands over Arthur. “So, you’re the great king Arthur.” Arthur scowls and tightens his grip on Merlin. “You know, Merlin would call out to you a lot. I can see why.” she tries to stroke Arthur’s hair, but he smacks her hand away. Jessica frowns and kicks Arthur in the stomach. I take another step forward and one of the guards shoots the ground in front of me. Jessica smiles and laughs. “Maybe you’ll scream prettier than Merlin did.” Jessica raises her hand to strike Arthur and I panic.
“NO!” I scream and my magic reacts instantly, pushing the guards off their feet and rendering them unconscious. I’m focus on Jessica and push her to the other side of the clearing. She digs her heels into the ground to avoid hitting a tree. Angered, she shoots a ball of fire at Arthur and Merlin. I flick my hand and they both get shoved to the right. Arthur, from the force, let’s go of Merlin and flies into a tree. He tries to move to Merlin, but is stopped by vines wrapping around his legs. He tries to hack away at the vines to no avail. Jessica makes another fire ball to throw at him. I hold my hand up and cry. “Stop!” Jessica pauses to look at me. “Jessica, why are you doing this?”
Her face morphs into pure rage. “Why?! You took my father away from me! So now I’ll take away yours!”
I shake my head and lower my hand. “Marcus was a sick and twisted man. He took us from our real families a long time ago.”
“No!” Jessica shouts. “He raised us, and you betrayed him. Betrayed us!”
“He tortured us!”
“He did it to make us strong!. He did it because he loved us!”
I frown and take a step closer. “He loved what we could do. Please Talia, stop this. We can start over. We can be sisters again Talia.”
Jessica grows in fury. “No. NO! That’s not my name! Don't ever call me that! I won’t stop until you and Emrys are dead!” her eyes light up gold and an arrow shoots from her hand and towards Merlin. I sling my magic towards it and turn the arrow into bees. I point towards Jessica and they swarm around her. She stops them in midair, freezes them, then shoots them back at me. I send a wave of heat to melt them and notice the guards are waking up. I stick my hand in the dirt and grass starts to trap them like Arthur. Jessica growls and sets all of the grass, and some of the trees, in the field on fire. I raise my hands and the air and force my magic to pull clouds towards us. The sky darkens and rain comes down, putting out the fires. The guards got free though and are rushing towards a now wounded Arthur.
“No!” I point at the guards and force lightning upon them. Jessica defects the lightning away from herself and hits some of her guards. She stops the rain from falling by freezing it. She looks at me with an insane smile, and forces the ice at Merlin. I lunge over to merlin and pull a barrier in front of me. The ice breaks through and slices my arms, legs, and face, but avoids Merlin. I stand up and see Jessica coming closer with another round of ice. I quickly crouch down and force my magic into the earth. Vines surround Merlin and I, protecting us in a small dome. I can hear the ice shatter against the it.
“Coward!” Jessica shouts. I feel another round of ice wear down the vines. I crawl closer to Merlin’s unconscious form. I shout when I feel something large, probably a boulder, hit the dome.
“Merlin.” I call out and brace myself when another boulder hits. “Merlin, please wake up. Merlin!” a boulder breaks through and hits me in the back. I scream and bend over Merlin to protect him. The vines around us crumble and a large fireball lands in the center of my back. Pain blinds me, and I feel myself being placed on my knees. I look up to see Jessica wielding a spear of ice.
She raises it over her head and smiles. “Say hi to Garrett.” I close my eyes and wait for my end. I wince when I hear the sickening squelch of flesh, but I don’t feel anything. I open my eyes to see Merlin in front of me, with the sword in his stomach.
* * *
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> *dodges knife being thrown* okay so I know that the ending of this chapter is... a bit of a cliff hanger. I am currently wiring the next chapter though.
12. Mors Ultra
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> The aftermath of the battle.
>
> *MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH!!!!*
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Okay so we're just gonna get right into it!
* * *
(Alex POV)
My eyes widen as I watch Merlin crumple to the floor. Jessica frowns in annoyance and pulls out the spear causing Merlin to cry out in agonizing pain. Adrenaline flows through my veins and I scream with blinding fury. My magic lashes out at Jessica and traps her in an invisible bind. I stand up, ignoring the excruciating pain in my back, and stare at her with dead eyes.
She looks back at me terrified. “Please don’t.” Her pleas fall on deaf ears as I feel my wrath pool around her. With the flick of my wrist and a loud crack, Jessica falls to the ground motionless. I turn back to Merlin and see he’s in Arthur’s arms. I drop to my knees and grab Merlin’s hand. |
1d35a64f068f4c7e947b0dc90073542a | ['f2f2d98598ce477580dd5426d5d9c0d7'] | Laurence ventures a look over. He is pleased to see that Tharkay is smiling, open and warm. "Indeed?"
Temeraire assents. "Iskierka also possesses opinions, as usual." At this, Tharkay snorts, still smiling. "I agree. But she did have a great deal of sense regarding wedding plans. Laurence said for me not to plan too much ahead of time," he says disconsolately, a clear hint that he would like to.
At Tharkay's sudden flat expression, Laurence feels his mood plummet again, the fragile peace broken. Tharkay is on edge about something, although Laurence is damned if he knows why.
Then Tharkay points down, indicating a large house. Temeraire begins to descend, the air warming.
The house is indeed quite large. It is surrounded by gently rolling land, dotted with many cows and a few shaggy northern sheep. Laurence judges the building quite handsome. The bushes look to be pruned with too much finicky zeal, but the gravel road is smooth and well maintained. They land on the lawn and walk up.
Their party is evidently sighted from the house, Temeraire's bulk difficult to miss. A small figure exits and hurries down the path toward them. Tharkay strides forward, a smile on his lips.
Laurence has served with Scottish marines, of course, in the Navy. The accent is often difficult to parse. But he cannot make head or tail of what Tharkay says, nor the response.
Laurence looks doubtfully at them, waiting to be introduced. Finally Tharkay turns around and, in English, introduces everyone. Proximity to his old home must be pulling his accent up by at least a social class or two, Laurence muses, watching Tharkay's lips enunciate the perfectly rounded vowels.
They learn that the man before them is the steward to the estate, a Mr. Quickley. "Quickley's the name, and quickly I try and help my Georgie here!" He exclaims. He is short and slight, face weathered, most likely in his late sixties but hale.
"Georgie?" He inquires, shaking hands. Temeraire lowers his head down to be introduced as well. Quickley adjusts well, bowing.
"Ah, yes, young Georgie!" Quickley says. Tharkay seems amused. "George MacLuirg, really, only I helped raise him from a wee boy, so I get to call him Georgie too. My Effie is tickled pink that thou art coming back."
Laurence feels his face freeze when he hears the name. "I beg your pardon?" Do not laugh, he tells himself. Do not laugh.
Tharkay shrugs. "I am not entitled to that surname any more, as you well know. Will knows me by my mother's name."
"Ach," Quickley dismisses, "Thou knows I have no truck with them in the courts. MacLuirg I will call thee, and damn them all for a pack o' vultures."
He seems satisfied with demonstrating his loyalty, and turns to show them in the house. "How exciting, Laurence! A whole new language! I cannot wait to pick it up." Laurence finds tears coming to his eyes with stifled laughter. "Whatever is the matter?" Temeraire asks worriedly.
So many instances in their acquaintanceship would prove ridiculous if he said George MacLuirg instead of Tenzing, Laurence is thinking. A tense run through sewers, stealing dragon eggs from a harem. Tharkay descending with twenty dragons, finding him in a rebel stronghold hidden in a Chinese mountain.
And their savior- George MacLuirg.
Wee Georgie.
Laurence has to stop directly outside the front door and laugh for several long moments. "I am alright, my dear." He pats Temeraire's nose as it bumps up against him in concern. "It is only- George MacLuirg- wee Georgie!-" he wheezes again.
Tharkay comes back out. "I cannot imagine what is taking you so long- Will, are you quite alright?" He says in concern.
Laurence knows he must look like a madman. His face is flushed warm and he cannot stop laughing. He can see Temeraire and Tharkay exchanging puzzled looks over his head. "I think it is your name, somehow. No, your other name." Temeraire says doubtfully.
Laurence waves a hand, masters himself. "I apologize. It is only- I cannot imagine you as a Georgie." Another stifled giggle escapes. "Much less- MacLuirg-"
Tharkay only smiles faintly. "I do prefer Tenzing, as you have grasped the most obvious part of why."
Laurence finally masters himself enough to enter the house and be introduced to some of the staff. He pretends not to see Tharkay's and Temeraire's exchange of baffled shrugs.
Beach, the butler, is the most formidable example of the breed that Laurence has yet seen. Beach only looks down his nose at him. Which is quite a lot of nose. Laurence looks away, feeling judged.
He only is asked to incline his head slightly as Tharkay goes down the line. Clearly, most of the old servants regard him with fondness rather than decorum. Laurence sees Quickley laugh uproariously at several moments. Mr. Beach even murmurs, "It is good thou art come home, sir." The main line of servants soon dissipate and Tharkay is left speaking quietly with Beach and Quickley. Laurence hears, "Taken into the service," and "Captain MacLuirg, disnae sound fine?" and then it dissolves into incomprehensibility. They are both nodding with approval, however, so Laurence does not try to rescue him.
From the outside, in the fading light, the house had been impressive. Now that Laurence is inside, he can see it is a grand house indeed. A large circular staircase winds around stately in the foyer. The walls are covered in various oil paintings of women holding dogs and men holding swords.
Laurence is rapidly fearing becoming lost if he tries to find his room on his own. But he wants nothing more than to wash his face and collect his thoughts.
Tharkay turns to Beach, and asks in primly accented English, where their rooms are. Beach tells Laurence, "Third level, fifth room on the left, to be sure. Sir." Laurence doesn't think he imagines the doubtful pause before the sir. | 5dc0a07abd0942db88373538f2520772 | ['f2f2d98598ce477580dd5426d5d9c0d7'] |
The first cut is the deepest
Stiles doesn't look up when he hears the back door open.
"There's meatloaf in the fridge." He says conversationally, when he hears someone stepping into the kitchen. He knows its Derek from the quiet looming. "Made with real meat this time, too."
Derek grunts in acknowledgement, moving past the kitchen table with its heaps of papers and toward the fridge. The low light catches on the handcuffs on his belt, the burst of warm air from the open door accompanying him.
It's starting to get warm in the evenings in Beacon Hills. Stiles can't wait for the summer to start. He's gotten through his first year of teaching by the seat of his pants. The kids came close to a pig head on a stick several times, and he would like to be more prepared for next year.
Stiles moves over some books for Derek to put his bowl down at the kitchen table, then goes back to frowning at his lesson plan. He's chewing on his pen when he looks up. "Would Isaac like some dinner too?"
Derek shakes his head. "He ate earlier. Busy with a new table." He eats as quietly as he ever does. Stiles goes back to scribbling notes. Finally he gets to a good stopping point, and shelves it for now. He still has a few more short stories to read, the last things he has to grade before the end of the year.
"That's a lot of glitter on one page." Derek says, nodding at one of the stories Stiles pulls out.
He squints at it. "It's a story about a caveman, which is unexpected. I left the subject up to the kids, mostly they picked spaceships. I think Andrea is going to get points for that. And the glitter. Cavemen should be fabulous. Also, points for spelling Neanderthal and Denisovan right. I don't think I could have done that when I was nine."
Derek nods, goes back to eating. It's usually about as much as he ever says when he comes over.
He's rinsed the bowl and is putting it in the dishwasher when he asks. "You still have that tent?" Stiles nods without thinking about it. "Good. We're going camping in two weeks."
Stiles looks up. "Camping?" Derek's already almost past him on his way out the door.
"Up in Oregon." Derek's already out of the door, the fast bastard, like he knows what Stiles is about to say.
"I don't want to go camping!"
"Can you get the shampoo for me?" Scott points. Stiles grabs it from the bathroom cabinet and hands it over. "Why doesn't your uncle want to go camping, now then?" He coos to Lya, who giggles and tries to grab the bottle.
"Her uncle doesn't want to go camping because. Because! Why are we going camping?"
Scott looks up when he's done washing her hair. He's perched on the edge of the bathtub while Stiles is standing in the doorway. "It's a pack gathering. There's other packs that will be there- the Szabos, the Wells. A few other small packs. It'll be fun." He sprays detangler in Lya's hair and combs it while she industriously bangs rubber duckies together.
"What if I don't want to go to a pack gathering?"
Scott doesn't act like he hears him. "There will be lots of other kids for Lya to play with, and the workshops are all really fun. You weren't at the last one, but everyone had a good time." Here he stops, looks up absently from Lya's hair. He goes back to gently combing it after a moment's thought. "Well, not Derek. But nothing made him very happy that year."
Stiles looks down for a second, then rallies. "What if you guys go without me?"
Scott starts draining the bath, pulls out the towel on his lap and sets Lya on it. She laughs as he dries her off, then runs away to be a free naked toddler for as long as she can. Scott stands up, looks at Stiles. Stiles drops his eyes. "I haven't gone camping in years. I don't like it."
Scott looks at him like he's thinking about it, but doesn't call him out on the lie. "I have to put Lya to bed. You want to come back and play Halo in an hour?"
Stiles sighed, ran his hands over his hair. "No, but thanks. Maybe tomorrow? Tonight's a school night."
As he left Scott's house for the arduous walk three houses down to his own house, Allison pulls up in the driveway. She gets out of the car loaded with books. Stiles walks down, helps her with the books.
"If I see one of these titled 'writing a thesis for dummies', I'm going to think way less of you." Stiles says as he navigates their porch.
Allison laughs as she opens the door. "I have a while until that, you know. Lydia should be defending soon, I can ask her for advice when she's back in town." Stiles can hear Scott still upstairs, reading Where The Wild Things Are to Lya in her bed.
Stiles swallows, wonders if she's noticed. "For the camping trip?"
Allison puts down her keys, puts the textbooks down on the kitchen table. "The last one was so much fun! Lya is going to have a great time with the other kids." She looks up, questioning. "Are you not excited?"
Sometimes, he hates that his best friend married such a perceptive woman. "It's just inconvenient timing! I mean, I have so much to do to get ready for next year." Her gaze sharpens. "Plus, I hate camping. Peeing outside? Bears? No way."
"They have latrines, and camping with werewolves is a good way to not worry about bears." She pauses, qualifies, "Granted, you might be worried about werewolves."
He looks down. "I just don't want to, ok?" |
ad72a4f47b6b447f8a871573b5819a1c | ['f307565a737542a885d85c2ad67c1315'] |
1. 15
**Author's Note:**
> I know that I've submitted a lot of stories in the past few days, but I've had ideas, OK?
> This is a story about a character of mine's parents, his father specifically. You'll meet the aforementioned character at some point, but this isn't focused on him, so.
Junpei sighed. He hated doing this, but he knows by now that he can’t say no to Joel. You see, Joel was a violent man, who had gotten past the point of hurting Junpei himself. No, instead he hurt the person Junpei cared for the most, the older man’s daughter Ayaka. Junpei had been around the man for longer than anybody, and even he didn’t know what the man’s real name was, or why he kept ending up back in Japan. You’d think that with how many kids he had taken from these people that he’d avoid here, but no. He must have some good connections to keep from being caught this long.
Standing with a tray on his hand, Junpei watched the room. He had been instructed when he and the others were sent here to pretend to work, to take whatever was loose and could easily go unnoticed. When he saw one of the others return to the side of the room, he went to make his own rounds through the room. He vaguely, off in some part of his mind, wondered if his life would’ve been closer to those they were stealing from today, had he grown up normally, or those he used to steal from in the streets. At this point, he’d probably never know, though. He was raised into this business, didn’t even know who his family were if they were even still alive, and on top of that, any plans to escape always ended up in at least one death and multiple other punishments.
As he finished this round, making sure everything was well hidden in his pockets, he set down his tray. At once, he see’s a young girl, maybe a bit older than he is, making her way over to him with a determined look on her face.
“What can I do for you, miss?” He asked her. Usually the rich people avoided coming and talking with the employees; That’s how they could pull off their jobs so easily. So why was she over here?
“Dance with me? I need to piss off my father, and I know that dancing with a server will do that.You’re just the most… Put together out of my options.” Her Japanese was okay, if not a little choppy, and he could tell that she was English. She was also trying to be polite, even if it wasn’t working very well.
He let himself look as if he was debating. “If it’s what you want, miss. May I have your name, at least?”
“It’s March. Cheyanne March. My father is over there, the non-Asian guy with the dark hair and eyes.”
He smiled charmingly and offered his hand. “May I have this dance, Miss. March?” When she put her hand in his, he kissed it, making sure to put on a little show, before they moved into the crowd, eyes already staring at them. Junpei made sure to keep his composure, dancing with the girl, making sure she enjoyed herself. If she was doing this just to annoy her father, they may as well enjoy it, right?
“You’re much better at this than I expected. Dare I say it, you may beat me, and I took dancing classes my whole life!” The girl was smiling fondly as she spoke, and he wondered, not for the first time, how women could dance in those heels. Ayaka always said you adapt, but he wasn’t so sure if that would ever be possible.
Out the corner of his eye, he saw the man she had described as her father making his way towards them. He pointed it out slightly to her, but kept his eye on the man to prepare for anything he may do. He had already managed to slip off an expensive looking necklace, and catch a loose ring from her, already safely hidden on his person. He had reached quota tonight, and so all he had to do was deal with this and he should be fine.
“Cheyanne, what is the meaning of this? Why would you dance with someone like him?” The man was angry, but trying to keep this composed and quiet, though it could not work as the room around them was silent, already having been staring at the couple. “You were to seek out a dance with the heir of Sumner!”
Cheyanne huffed. “Father, this party was for his sixtieth birthday. I’m not yet out of high school, why would I try and date someone more than half my age?”
So that’s what set her off today. “Sir, Mr. March, may I add that Miss. Cheyanne here should at least become of legal age in her home country before being put into to a marriage?” He had only ever read non-fiction books, ones describing laws had stuck in almost as well as his music had. “It may be a good idea to keep you from legal trouble waiting a bit of time.”
The girl laughed a bit, as her father looked angry and started to lead her away. She made a gesture that he had been told meant to call her, but obviously that couldn’t happen.
The rest of the night went simple, they got out easily and heard nothing of any suspicions from the attendees. Joel was satisfied, and that meant that Ayaka and the kids in their quarters were safe for the night. Junpei fell asleep, almost forgetting the girl with bright green eyes that stood much taller than him.
2. 18
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Junpei's managed to escape. Who does he go to?
**Notes for the Chapter:** | 9a5e9361040846e89e32583821ceb93d | ['f307565a737542a885d85c2ad67c1315'] | What's a title?
**Author's Note:**
> I know it's short. Not sure if I'll add on to this, I may in the future.
Percy frowned. His mother had sent him to a group for grief counseling, but he didn’t get why. He couldn’t speak to share anything. He couldn’t give any advice. He also highly doubted any of these people knew sign language.
You see, last month Percy’s fiancee had been killed. They had been a week from their wedding when a man started to come on to Percy, and the fact that Percy wasn’t replying bothered him. Luke had come inside the room as the man decided to swing at him. Percy came out with a black eye, the other man was beaten badly enough that he had to go to the hospital. Luke had seemed fine, had been punched once or twice but only had a bruise where he had been hit. He was gone by the end of the next day, having had bad internal bleeding.
Percy had reached the room, early for once in his life.
“Hello?” There was a blonde man who had said it. But he wasn’t looking towards the door. In fact, judging by his dark, thick glasses Percy suspected he may be blind. Percy huffed a bit, thinking it’s just his luck to have someone who can’t tell if he’s trying to reply.
“Hello?” Now the blonde man was tapping the shoulder of the dark haired man beside him. Once the other looked at him he continued, but was facing the other. “Nico, who’s here?”
The other started to speak, using sign language as he did. “It seems to be someone new to our group.” The others voice sounded rough, like he didn't use it much and couldn’t hear it well. Percy started to sign at the other. “He’s signing. He’s apparently mute, and his mother signed him up.”
The blonde laughed. “A mute man and a deaf man, being counseled by a blind man in a group of people struggling to learn sign language already to accommodate the deaf one. He’ll fit in well, I’d guess, Nico.” The blond stood up, gesturing Percy to himself, and once he felt Percy’s hand on the one he had offered, he shook it. “I’m Jason Grace. I lead this group. We have more people, they just tend to be slow to filter in.” He pointed to Nico next. “This is Nico. He’s deaf, and lost his older sister and mother in an accident about six months ago. He and his sister in law, who is also my sister, go here, but she’s in charge of getting the snacks. Left Nico here to keep me company.”
The meeting went fine, but other than introductions, Percy couldn’t participate in much other than when Thalia and Nico spoke. The decided to give Percy some time to settle before having him tell his story. As he was heading out, Nico got his attention. He signed quickly, almost seeming nervous. _Would you like to hang out with me a bit? I’m new and don’t know the city really. It’d be nice to have someone I can actually talk to._ Percy smiled and nodded quickly before signing.
_I’d love to hang out with you! I’ve lived here my whole life, so I know some really good places!_ Nico smiled at the other boy, laughing a bit.
_Do you drive or should I get Thalia to drop us off? She’ll be happy to get some time to spend with Jason, so._
_I can drive us somewhere, and we can walk a lot of places, if you’re up to it._
_Sounds great._ |
0a80eb31a143426a876564b8af7663b5 | ['f3156905d1ad4dc5ab2fe41edde4a08f'] | He had been thinking about Jared situation a lot and realized he knew nothing about it. Not how old Jared was when he was in an accident, what the accident was. What caused his parents death and if he had any other family or friends. He must've had some friends. Jensen wasn't around all the time but he assumed Jared would go hang out with other kids.. somehow. He couldn't be completely alone in a building filled with other kids.. right?
After walking their usual lap around the park the went back towards the parking lot when Jensen noticed the ice cream shop across the street. He may as well walk over there since the car was parked and it was close. He stopped walking and glanced back to the park. He spotted a few picnic tables that were close by and turned to walk Jared over there. He felt Jared grip on his elbow tighten. Then felt as Jared pulled on his arm gently.
Jensen turned to face him. Seeing Jared looked a bit nervous. Jared started to sign. 'I thought we were leaving.' Jensen sighed. They never really communicated while they were out. Jared just usually followed him and didn't ask question. The kid was smart. He knew they were heading back to the truck and then went back. Jensen had to talk, well communicate with him now.
Jensen gently slipped his arm from Jareds grip. Signing in his hand. 'I'm getting us something to eat. You can sit at the picnic table here.' Jared nodded but then slowly frowned. He quickly signed back. 'Can't I go with you?' Jensen sighed. This would be so much faster if he could just go by himself. He signed back into Jareds hand. 'It's right across the street. I'll be quick, don't worry.' He signed. Jareds expresion wasn't happy at all. He let out a soft sigh and slowly nodded, but he still didn't look happy at all.
Jensen walked him over to the picnic table, guiding Jareds hands to it so he'd know where it was. Once Jared managed to sit down, Jensen sat beside him and signed into his hand. 'I'm getting ice cream. What flavor do you want?' He watched as Jared thought for a minute and then signed back. 'Vanilla.' Jensen nodded and then quickly signed into Jared hand. 'Be right back.' He got up from the table glancing at Jared.
Jared bit his lip and tensed a bit, sitting still in his seat and keeping his head down. Jensen felt a bit bad for leaving him alone. But not bad enough to change his mind. He jogged back to the parking lot and across the street. There were only a few people in the ice cream shop so it wouldn't be long. He'd be back at the park with Jared in no time.
Jared had been sitting by himself for a few minutes alone, he was still nervous but had calmed down a bit. That is, until two guys walked over to the picnic table he was sitting at. One of them jumped up. standing on the seat part and crouched down to sit down on the table part. "Hey. Get lost kid. This is our table." The guy told him. Jared flinched feeling the whole table move, but then sat up smiling slightly thinking Jensen had come back.
Jensen walked out of the shop. Two bowls of ice cream in hand. He started to walk towards the street and stopped dead in his tracks looking at the park. He could see Jareds picnic table. It was a bit away but he picked that specific one so he'd be able to see him. He also noticed two other guys at the table. They both looked older then Jared, Maybe eighteen, nineteen? He didn't recognize them. He had a bad feeling about this.
"Hey. Kid! Did you hear me? I said beat it." The guy said again. Still sitting on the table. Jared still sat there unmoving, wondering why Jensen hadn't signed anything to him yet. He put both hands on the table and waited. The guy huffed. "What the fuck is your problem kid?" The other one chuckled. "Maybe you should move him yourself." He said leaning against the table. "This kid has some guts just ignoring us like this." The first one rolled his eyes. "Or he's just stupid. Hey, kid, time to go back home." He said and leaned closer to Jared, reaching over and shoving his shoulder back.
Jared let out a small gasp, as he flailed slightly and fell back off of the seat. Landing on his back on the grass. He tensed. That wasn't Jensen. At least he didn't think Jensen would do that to him. Jared tried pushing himself up and moved back to the table, only to be shoved back again. Harder this time. He gasped and hissed as he fell on his back again. He quickly tried to scoot back. He was terrified. Who was doing this to him and why? Had he done something wrong? He was just sitting there. He started panicking.
Jensen saw the first shove and froze. What the hell? Why would someone do that? He was quickly snapped back to his senses as he saw Jared get shoved back to the ground. Jensen lost it at this point. He was fuming. He dropped both the bowls of ice cream and took off running across the street. He watched as Jared tried to back away. He could hear both the guys laughing as he got closer. He watched as one of them grabbed Jareds wrist, he could see the fear on Jared's face. | b590300e49ee4f2f9a523c8ae9399081 | ['f3156905d1ad4dc5ab2fe41edde4a08f'] | > Feel free to comment let me know what you think!
3. Chapter Three
Deans mind was racing as kissed Sam. His emotions were everywhere. Silently begging that Sam wouldn't hate him, that Sam wouldn't leave now. Dean didn't feel Sam move. He didn't tense, but he didn't kiss back. Not until Dean started to pull back did he feel Sams lips move slowly against his own. Slowly, hesitating. Dean relaxed, he stopped trying to pull away, more at ease now. His mind racing. 'He's kissing me back. I can't fuck this up.'
Dean kissed Sam slowly, gently. His lips moving slowly with Sams as Sam started to slowly kiss back. Sam was either ok with this at the moment, or he wanted this too. Dean didn't want to ask at the moment, because if it wasn't the latter he knew he wouldn't be able to bring himself to continue.
Dean slowly moved his thumb against Sams cheek, rubbing over his stubble lightly. It was a different feeling but he loved it. Dean pressed closer to Sam, deepening the kiss. He wanted to moan, wanted to show Sam in some way how much he really wanted this but he held back.
Sam slowly moved his hand from Deans neck to cup the back of Deans head, kissing him back deeply. After a minute Dean moved his hand to Sams chest, pushing him to lay back against the bed.
Sam moved willingly but to Deans surprise, Sam pulled Dean down with him. Never breaking the kiss and wrapping his arm around Deans back. Maybe, just Maybe, Dean would let himself enjoy this.
He allowed himself to lay against Sams chest. Sliding his hand into Sams hair, pulling gently on it.
Sams breath hitched as he felt the tug. Never in his life did he imagine this would ever happen. Sam fisted the back of Deans shirt. Pulling their bodies together, and leaned up into the kiss.
Dean couldn't help it, he let out a soft groan. He turned his head, deepening the kiss, and slowly started to grind down against Sam.
Sam was doing everything in his power to not make any noise. Not to moan, not to arch up, or throw his head back in pleasure, or even look at Dean although he wanted too. Whoever Dean was trying to imagine was ok with him, because Dean couldn't want this with him, right? Sam deepened the kiss instead. Holding Deans head in place and nipped gently at Deans bottom lip, earning him a small moan.
"Fuck.." Dean mumbled against Sams lips. He quickly reached down to start undoing Sams belt and pants. Their shirts could stay on. He wouldn't make Sam do anything extra, but with the death grip Sam had on it he doubted he'd be able to get it off anyway.
Sam leaned back breaking the kiss, panting softly, but staying quiet. He lifted his hips to help as Dean pulled off his pants and boxers. Not letting go of Deans shirt, slightly afraid Dean would change his mind mid deed and leave. He couldn't let that happen. Dean leaned back. Stripping Sams lower half and tossing his clothes aside. He then worked his own pants open and tossed those aside with Sams. He grabbed the lube, and the condoms putting the lube on his fingers and leaning over Sam, kissing him again.
"This might hurt." Dean whispered, praying silently that it wouldn't, at least not much. The last thing he wanted was to cause Sam pain. Sam nodding quickly, knowing what had to be done and was glad Dean was ok with doing it. He felt Deans fingers move gently over his hole. Sam couldn't help but tense, and inhale a bit sharply. It didn't hurt, not yet anyway, but he wasn't used to the feeling. Dean saw his reaction and frowned. Fuck he had to make this good for Sam. He leaned back over him. Kissing him again. Moving his lips slowly against Sams, rubbing his fingers in slow circles around his hole before slowly pushing one into him.
Sams whole body tensed, he gripped and pulled on Deans shirt, holding back a groan. Dean had to do something to distract him. Something, anything. He bit on Sams bottom lip, tugging on it with his teeth. He felt Sam reacting, Sams body arching up against his, relaxing a bit more, but no sounds came out of his mouth. Dean slowly worked him open, being able to slide another finger into him. Slowly continuing to work him open until he could fit three fingers in Sam, without his body tensing. By the time Dean pulled out fingers he could feel Sams breath on his face, Sam was panting, trying to keep from trembling. It felt good but he didn't want Dean knowing how much this was turning him on.
Dean pulled back again to put on a condom. He looked over Sam, trying not to look at his cock, or the fact that his own cock was hard just by kissing Sam. He leaned back over Sam, hands resting on the bed, at both sides of Sams face.
"Tell me if I'm going to fast, or I need to stop." Dean whispered, his eyes searching Sams face. Sam finally looked up at him but only for a moment. He met Deans eyes and nodded quickly. But he wouldn't prolong this. He wanted this to be over fast for Deans sake. Dean dipped his head down, Reaching down to guide his cock to Sams hole, slowly pushing into him.
Sam inhaled sharply, his body tensing as he pulled on Deans shirt. Fuck. Dean was huge. Sam hadn't looked, and even though Dean had spent time opening him up it wasn't enough. Dean wasn't even halfway in when he glanced up to look at Sams face. He stopped moving feeling Sams tense body around him, trying his best not to moan clearly seeing Sam in pain. |
9bc99310d8f145788e5dc5a340e2f0fd | ['f352c33cfd79433f9f71a743d698bec0'] | You Be My Napoleon and I'll Be Your Joséphine
**Author's Note:**
> This is set in the beginning of S5 E3 "A Soldier's Farewell" but you don't need to of seen to read this.
>
> I'm sorry if I have ruined your childhood.
"Hey Pikey, the bus doesn't come for about 10 mins want to go to the ah.. washroom" Walker whispered into Pike's ear and winked.
"Alright, I sure am tired of Frazier moaning about how rubbish the picture was, I thought it was grand" Pike replied.
"’scuse me Sir?" Walker asked Mainwaring "may i be Excused?" Mainwaring frowned at Walker tutting "quickly". Walker smiled and walked into the washroom.
"Uncle Arthur, May I go to the washroom?" Pike asked Wilson.
"uhh.. sure Frank" Pike turned and ran into the washroom.
Looking around to make sure they were the only ones in the washroom Walker turned around facing Pike "Come on then" Walker said with a mischievous smile and took Pike's hand dragging him into the closest cubicle and locking the door behind him.
When Pike looked up at Walker, Walker kissed him passionately. "I have wanted to do that for days" Walker exclaimed and smiled at Pike.
"Really? you seemed to be alright with doing it without me" Pike softly scowled.
"What are you talking about Frankie?" Walker said in a confused tone.
"That girl sitting next to you, you had your arm around her" Pike replied, looking down at his fidgeting hands.
"Oh come on Frank, that didn't mean anything, I would of done it to you if you were next to me and if we were alone in there, come on now the bus should be here now" Walker said.
"You better make it up to me" Pike said with a cheeky smile.
"Of course" Joe said, and put his hands on Pike's hips and kissed him deeply.
After they had run out of breath, they parted. Walker said "come on they're probably waiting for us" and gave Pike one quick peck on the lips and opened the cubicle door and walked out of the washroom soon followed by Pike. "Sorry Mr. Mainwaring, I was having a smoke and I pulled Private Pike into conversation" Walker said when Mainwaring gave them a good dressing-down for making the rest of the platoon wait. | 4ad791889ba94a8a8b332cd3101b96a4 | ['f352c33cfd79433f9f71a743d698bec0'] |
Guilt On A Thunder Filled Night
**Author's Note:**
> This is my first fanfiction and I didn't really feel ready to do smut. It probably has a lot of grammatical errors.
>
> Sorry it sucks.
It was 3:30 in the morning, a young man tried to focus on the road but his mind kept drifting off to his lover and the guilt he felt for betraying him. He's glad there's nobody about and the roads are empty, not a soul insight. It's raining quite heavily now he can hear the thunder roll through the trees. He hopes his guilt doesn't show through when he gets home. It was only supposed to be a night out with the boys at John's.
\---
In a house close by a man paces by the telephone. All the lights are on, he can get to sleep without his lover there with him, he never liked the rain or the thunder. The wind was howling past the house, the rain was heavy and great claps of Thunder rolled by every few minutes.
He was worried and scared his lover was due back hours ago, his mind drifted to the worst of what could've happened, his lover's lifeless body lying there twisted and bruised, he started to cry his big brown eyes filling up with tears. He wanted him back now he wanted it to be a normal summer night without rain but with hugs and kisses in bed. He wanted his lover to be there with him kissing him from head to toe, distracting him from the outside world. He closes his eyes trying to block everything out and the tiredness gets to him.
\---
It's around 4 am when he pulls the car into the driveway. He quietly opens the front door and he takes of his coat. He walks over to his sleeping lover and picks him up, even though he may be smaller he is definitely stronger, he takes him up to the bedroom and puts him into the bed. He takes a shower and gets into his pajamas. He gets into the bed next to his lover trying not to awaken him, he snuggles up to his lover and hears him slur “I missed you Honey”. He tries to bite back the guilt. It was only a little jam session over at John's house.
\---
“Hey Rings come in, may I take your coat, where's the wife?” John joked taking Ringo’s coat.
“Well he didn't feel like coming over tonight” he replied.
“Well I'm afraid it's only you and me, George dropped out to” John said “take a seat my boy”.
“Well what are we going to do then?” Ringo asked.
“Something naughty” John whispered.
“Nothing too naughty I hope, I've got to drive home” Ringo remarked.
John poured them some whiskey and passed a glass to Ringo. “Have you written anymore songs recently” Ringo asked as John sat next to him
“Yeah there's one I was hoping to show Paul it's called ‘Rain’ but it's nothing special, it only worth a b-side if anything” John said shyly.
“Come on John don't be like that, I'm sure it's great”. Ringo smiled at John, he could tell John was having one of his down periods even though he was trying to mask it.
John and Ringo stayed up talking and drinking for the next hour or so “Johnny do you have anything to eat?, I'm hungry” Ringo slurred slightly, half asleep and half drunk.
“I may have some bread or something, you want me to make you a sandwich?” John slurred back in his very drunk way. Ringo smiled back, John then walked into the kitchen carefully making sure not to bump into anything because he wasn't wearing his glasses and he was twice as drunk as Ringo.
Once he came out of the kitchen he found Ringo draped across the couch asleep looking very attractive. With this much alcohol in his system he knew he probably wouldn't remember what would happen the following morning. He put down his sandwich and quietly moved on top of Ringo and started kissing his neck trying hard not to suck “Paulie” he heard Ringo giggle.
John tutted “nah it's not your wife honey”.
Ringo's eyes opened quickly “John I may be drunk but I.. I.. I'm not drunk enough t.. to cheat on Paul” Ringo stuttered out.
“You sure about that” John whispered and put his hand on his knee slowly moving up.
“Y.. yessss” Ringo hissed as John got to his crotch. Then Ringo grabbed John's face and kissed him hard and fast, the kiss was all teeth clashing and tongue. Ringo hurriedly took off John's shirt and John followed suit taking off Ringo's and discarding them on the floor.
“Want to move into the bedroom?” John whispered out of breath.
“Sure” Ringo said in between kissing John. John picked him by his thighs, and took him into the bedroom and dropped him onto the bed. Soon after they both collapsed onto the bed chests heaving in a post-coital euphoria.
\---
Around 10 minutes later Ringo suddenly muttered, in a much more sober state than before, “shit it's nearing 3, I should have left hours ago, Paul will be wracked with worry”. He then got up and looked for his pants and trousers and put them on he when went back into the lounge, with John following him out, and grabbed his shirt.
John walked up to Ringo and asked “this was a one-time thing, right?” trying to make it a joke but it didn't hide the expected disappointment in his voice.
“Yup, you know I've got Paul at home and you've got Cyn” Ringo smiled weakly. The walk to the door, Ringo grabs his coat and two exchange looks.
“See you John, it was fun tonight”.
“Yeah see ya on Monday Rings, and prepare to never speak of this again” Ringo smiled back at John and left the house. John watched Ringo drive away through the window and then went to take a shower.
\---
It's around 4 am when he pulls the car into the driveway. He quietly opens the front door and he takes of his coat. He walks over to Paul, who is sleeping soundly by the phone and picks him up, even though he may be smaller he is definitely stronger, he takes him up to the bedroom and puts him into the bed.
Ringo then took a shower and got into his pajamas. He got into the bed next to his lover trying not to awaken him, he snuggles up to Paul and hears him slur “I missed you Honey”. He tries to bite back the guilt.
“Sorry I was late home Babe, we lost track of time” he replied and pulled his lover closer to him.
\---
On Monday they had first rehearsals for recording. Ringo and John tried not look at each other often in case one of them said something stupid, which was bound to happen with them. |
308c7b767a984229b5ccb421f84e5d85 | ['f355e17a9d364283b7d649a5e30814b7'] | _ “And then my sister decided to leave the faucet running and he didn’t ev-” _ His words faded to jelly, and Peter’s world spun just a tad bit.
He was just _ exhausted. _
Just on cue as they strolled outside, snow began to fall from the murky grey sky. Peter shivered once again, and reminded himself that Happy would be here so he could get away from the snow.
“Oh! My Mom’s here, bye Peter, bye MJ!” Ned shouts, stumbling to keep warm and get to his mom’s car.
Peter half-heartedly smiles, and waves goodbye, scanning the parking lot for the familiar sleek Audi but seeing none.
Peter grimaced and looked back at the school, wondering if he could sneak in somehow but knowing that they don’t let students loiter unless they have extracurriculars.
Not worth it.
Peter sits down on the somewhat dry cement patch dejectedly, it was like his life was some cliche drama angst film.
He rested his chin on his backpack and tried to tune out the increasingly more intense downfall of snow along with the rowdy and wild sounds of teenagers around him. He closed his eyes, and tried to breathe.
He envelops himself with his arms, trying to hide himself from the cold.
He can feel MJ’s worried gaze on him but he pushes that away.
His eyes snap open as MJ jumps into a red chevy, he waves goodbye to her.
_ “Bye loser.” _
A million thoughts clashed together in his head, intrusive thoughts and worries coming together in a cycle of torment.
Heavy snow drummed against his head, and he flinched. He chattered. Of course today was the day he didn’t wear his usual warm clothing…
So here Peter was, waiting for his superhero mentor’s driver to pick him up to work at a multimillionaire corporation in the frigid cold- wearing only his sweatshirt and clothes to protect him from the snow. Just another day in the life.
Where was Happy? After over 20 minutes of waiting he texted Happy.
**_Peter: Are you on your way?_ ** [sent at 3:55 pm]
He tried to push away his anxiety.
He tried to ignore the rapid decrease in temperature, and the freezing bite of the ruthless wind and snow plotting against him.
It didn’t work.
He was shivering rapidly now. He rubbed his hands against each other as a sad attempt to create friction. They were starting to _ numb. _ His hands fumbled to put his hood on.
His thoughts were starting to slip through his fingers like quick sand.
How long has it been?
He heard another ping but couldn’t bring himself to raise up his hands.
_ Come on Peter it might be important. _
_..What’s important? _
He raised his hands up slowly, shaking like a leaf as he opened his text. His vision blurred slightly to make out the nine texts from Happy.
He blinked lethargically.
Why did everything feel so
w e ir d?
**Happy: Shit.** [received at 4:43]
**Happy: Sorry Peter** [received at 4:43]
**Happy: A family emergency came up, I forgot to notify Tony.** [received at 4:44]
**Happy: I’ll be there in 15.** [received at 4:44]
**Happy: Wait. Have you been waiting outside in the snow?** [received at 4:47]
**Happy: Peter?** [received at 4:49]
**Happy: I’m calling Tony to come get you.** [received at 4:51]
**Happy: Tony is coming. He’s quicker.** [received at 4:52]
**Happy: God, I’m sorry Peter.** [received at 4:56]
_ Tony. _
_ Iron Man. _
_ Iron Man will save him. Yes. _
_ Right? _
He couldn’t move his fingers or anything, really. He _ just wanted to close his eyes now. _
His shivering became almost rhythmic, but uncontrollably _ violent _ .
His breaths were shallow.
His thoughts progressed into lethargic nothingness and Peter just wanted to sleep, he closed his eyes.
Huh, he has stopped shivering.
i t s
so
c o l d.
The familiar sound of repulsors shutting off and coming closer caused him to open his eyes slowly.
Mr.Stark.
_ Y e s. _
_ Mr.Stark would save him from the cold. _
“ _ Oh my god. _ ” He faintly heard.
_ Footsteps, a flash of movement. Someone in front of him. _
“Kid? Peter!” Hmm, he sounded frantic. Concerned.
Peter tried to get up, to reassure Mr.Stark. A nauseating wave of dizziness fell over him as he swayed and stumbled.
“M-Mr.Stark?” He slurred out slightly, something was wrong. Mr.Stark grabbed his shoulders gently, still in the suit.
_ Mr.Stark was here? _
_ Why is he here? _
“Shit. Shit. Shit. I-It’ll be okay Pete.” Mr.Stark’s voice wavered slightly.
Then, his knees buckled and he collapsed. Mr.Stark caught him with his metal gauntlets on and pressed him against him, cradling him like a baby.
Peter clung on desperately.
“I’m so tired” He slurred out.
Mr.Stark’s response was immediate, “No kiddie, can you keep awake for me?”
Peter blinked a few times and saw Mr.Stark’s blurry _ terrified _ gaze, the Iron Man mask one.
_ Why was Mr.Stark so worried? _
“I don understand. Wha happen’d?”
_ What was happening? _
“Come on Peter, I’m going to take you, okay.”
“O-okay?”
The repulsors sounded and Peter’s stomach swooped as they went into the air, the freezing air pushing against them.
“M-Mista Stark, why is it so cold?” He slurred. His eyes drooped.
“Shh, you can’t close your eyes Peter.”
His mind spun.
“Don, don’t drop me into the, the lake.”
He heard a sharp intake of breath.
“I won’t Peter. I won’t.”
* * *
“Bruce! Emergency!”
“Oh my, oh my god.”
“Tony.. What happened to him?”
“H-He was outside in just this for a little over an hour.”
Frantic noises.
“Thermal blanket… Medevac…”
He was being rolled on something. Hm.
_ Did Toomes get him again? _
He blinked his eyes.
“No, no, no, Peter don’t fall asleep yet!” Tony shouted. | eab622ca62484fdaab842d619956c642 | ['f355e17a9d364283b7d649a5e30814b7'] |
hold onto me (cuz im a little unsteady)
**Author's Note:**
> hi y'all. this is just a whole fic of peter whump and irondad! protect that poor child.
>
> hope you enjoy this first chapter! one or two of the chapters get emotionally heavy (i will add warning when the time comes) so just letting you know.
>
> lmao it's also father's day, so enjoy the SpiderSon and IronDad. <3
Peter’s day started off bad, as he rushed out of the door unkempt and bedraggled. He quickly grabbed a hoodie and kissed May’s cheek lightly, then sprinted off to catch the subway. The brisk winter air whipped across his hair as cars honked, even early in the morning, as everyone bustled in the city to start their day.
Light snow from the previous evening still laid dormant on the streets and _ god, _ does Peter hope it doesn’t snow today.
He dug through his backpack desperately scrounging for his earbuds. Dread settled into his bones as he realizes that he had forgotten his earbuds at home. Sure, to any normal teenager, this would be a loss, but to Peter- his earbuds were just about the only thing keeping his enhanced hearing abated and muffled from the intrusive city noises.
Wow, he has not been functioning this week. I mean, sure, he may have been staying up till one am fighting crime for the past week or two then doing his homework- but in his defense- the city never sleeps, especially not Queens!
And now, after the whole Vulture debacle ( _ which he tries not to think about- Liz, a warehouse, DC, dust, ferry, the debilitating fear), _ he feels like things are starting to fix itself.
Okay, that’s a lie. He tries to stay positive, he really does. Just a few nights ago, Mr.Stark told him about the imminent threat of some alien named Thanos. Which was terrifying, but Peter knows that he needs to be in this fight. He can’t just stand by and watch his home, his people, be destroyed by some psycho alien dude.
_ With great power, comes great responsibility. _
The city noises bring him back to reality as his mind wanders.
Peter took a deep breath and clenched his jaw, as he tried to ignore _ everything aroun him.. _
The person’s heavy breath blowing the hairs on the back of his neck, a lady in the corner of the car smacking her lips and chewing gum, the permeating smell of smoke coming from some dude smoking two cars down, the screeching of the train, someone talking on the phone as he could hear every word crystal clear even though they were whispering across the car..
_ Too much. _
His spidey-sense throbbed in the base of his head.
This was going to be a long day.
But it was a Friday, which was something he could look forward to. Meaning, Peter would get to go to the compound today to work with Mr.Stark. Peter smiled and held back a laugh as he mulled over Mr.Stark and his shenanigans.
After Peter refused the invitation to become an Avengers ( _ which he found out that it was actually an offer?) _ , Peter got the opportunity to actually get to know his role model.
Thought Aunt May was adamant at first, Peter knew she would warm up to Mr.Stark, and she did after several dinners, too generous gifts, and going together to get coffee. Which was admittedly weird, because now his aunt and ~~_ f _ ~~ather~~ figure ~~ __ mentor are like ~~ h elicopter parents ~~ __ close friends together. He could count on Mr.Stark knowing just about everything in his life because of their frivolous gossip.
The train continued to rattle, as it rhymically shook and sputtered.
Peter looked out the window of the train one last time before he entered school to see the city flying by him like a nostalgic, old, friend.
The sun had risen as it casted soft oranges and pinks across the sky like a watercolor painting- delicate and fluid. The sun reflecting upon the glistening white snow, caught in the bare trees. The sky looked like a dome encircling the world, but, dark looming clouds formed at the base of the sky- starting to blot out the golden hues of its surroundings.
If it were any other day, Peter would be comforted by his city.
But, today it was too much.
He walked into Midtown as the unforgiving New York wind welcomed him, shivering slightly from the cold.
The rustles of backpacks, twiddling of pencils, creaking of lockers, light chatters from two doors down, he could even hear freaking _ heartbeats _ if he really pushed himself to focus in on it.
On a normal day, Peter could handle this, but he was already overwhelmed from his ride to school, the weather, and when you add that to Midtown High, plus his daily jaunts from Flash- Peter was absolutely done.
Peter took a shaky breath in and pushed down his bubbling anxiety, shrugging up his backpack and striding into class. Teachers droned on, the clocked ticked, and Peter couldn’t stand it.
He was on the verge of his breaking point, but he kept it ‘controlled’.
Ned chattered alongside him as they walked out of school, and Peter tried to keep up with the social cues as he nodded and laughed at the right times.
He could see MJ’s raised eyebrows at his lack of per usual enthusiasm and he just attempted a smile at her to say- _ hey i'm alright don't worry bout me. _
She shot him one of her signature _ don't fucking lie to me Parker _ looks, and he shrugged and diverted his attention back to Ned. |
6a2a9141685248c7a41465fa8ec147ab | ['f35f7236a63640f4a10e56547c2712e3'] |
I'll Follow You into the Dark
**Author's Note:**
> Title: I’ll Follow You Into the Dark
> Author: USER
> Word Count: 2,465
> Prequel To: Rise Above This
> Warning: Character Death
> Rating: G
> Author’s Note: I have been working on this for forever and I am so happy that it’s finally complete and to a point where I love it. I started this after listening to I’ll Follow You Into the Dark by Death Cab For Cutie over and over. I thought it fit them perfectly, especially if you think of it as Cas’s voice. Together, Dean and him have seen a lot and have been together through the thick of it. I just wanted to write this down. Also, this is probably not the end of this little series. After this one, there will probably be two more installations, so keep an eye out!
The years have not been kind to you; your body is bruised and battered. You’ve suffered from sprains, from breaks, and from a matter of lacerations. But those had healed a long time ago. Scars cover a large portion of your body; they mar your arms, your chest, and your forehead.
Come to think of it, I was there for most of those. I had fought by your side and watched in, I admit, wonder (or was it awe?) as you overcame every obstacle flung in your path. You were stubborn, even sometimes indignant, always burrowing down in your roots and ideals and keeping hold to what you thought was right. Which in truth, it always seemed to turn out just that way. You were always right. Right about me, right about Sam. Grudgingly, you were also right about Benny. There was always some form of wisdom in you, a logic that couldn’t be shaken. You were a rock. Not just any old rock either, but my rock, my hold on to what world was left for me to reside in.
In truth, I had used you as a crutch in the beginning, not in spite, mind you, but because I had to to just find my footing. And could you blame me? You were someone… someone I trusted, relied on. Someone I came to love with my whole being. I loved your odd habits, your ability to quote popular culture, even though I rarely understood what you were trying to get at, and your strength. You may disagree with me, if you were awake and listening to this simple monologue, but I assure you, you were strong.
When you lost the people closest to you, you never gave up. I watched, unbeknownst to you, as you suffered through the grand-daddy of them all, the loss of Sam. You had every opportunity to eat that barrel of your gun and end it, had almost talked yourself into many times in a drunken stupor while Lisa and Ben slept soundly upstairs, but never could muster the “courage” to do it. And when Sam came back, something other than himself, you muscled through the dark tides and stayed by his side until he was made right. You gave up a life that made you happy, made a tough decision and took away the memories of those you loved so that they wouldn’t feel the pain of your loss, and did your best to protect the world as I fell in the name of rage and grace, polluting the world with darkness and bringing about an almost pre-mature end to all of humanity in my state of delirium. You played an integral part in saving humanity, twice, and succeeded.
So who would’ve thought that almost twenty years down the road, now fifty-six and out of the so-called “family business”, a “faulty ticker” would be the thing to do you in?
Shaking my head, I step farther into the room. There’s no point in living inside my own head. It’s time to stop thinking of the past and to deal with what’s ahead of me, of us. You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a week now, the doctors say that’s to be expected. You had a pretty serious heart attack. To be honest, they’re surprised that you were able to stabilize this much. They said that you had a… well, it’s all technical doctor jargon. I know that you wouldn’t want to sit through them saying it to you, so what makes me any different, right, Dean? I turn to you, wanting to tell you something, to see you smile, hear your voice, but you just lay there, the tubes inserted in your nostrils keeping your breath steady as you slumber on. Every time I look to you, it’s as if someone’s closed a hand around my throat and punched a hole into my chest.
God, this is pathetic. I need to accept the facts, don’t I? I keep expecting you to just open your eyes and chastise me for being a whiney little girl. After all, I’m just a “baby in a trench coat,” right? But, dammit, Dean. You’re everything I have. I need you. I have ever since the beginning… | 66ba05c7c6144ae09d3e309e24c0fce2 | ['f35f7236a63640f4a10e56547c2712e3'] | The photo next to that one is of him and Sarah holding their first baby, a beautiful girl with crisp gray-green eyes and a wisp of dark hair that clung close around her tiny head. He remembers Dean pulling him aside and asking if he could name the girl. All Sam wanted to do was sit and rest, to check on Sarah and the baby, but no, Dean had to talk his ear off, telling him that “hey, Cas n’ me aren’t gonna be having a baby any time soon. So can I please have a hand in naming her?” Sam remembers the injustice of it all, at having to hear Dean plead his case about choosing to name _his_ own child. In the end, Dean got his way; the little girl was named Mary Ellen after the two amazing women who had put up with the Winchesters’ crap and had both died because of them, one on the night that started it all and the other in a hapless attempt to take on the devil, casualties in a war the brothers never wanted to be a part of. Whenever Dean gloated at having picked out a beautiful name, Sam would just roll his eyes and tell him that the Ellen bit was the only concession Dean had gotten because Mary was already going to be his baby’s name.
Tucked underneath that gem of him, Sarah, and Mary Ellen, is the one of Adam, tiny and just a few hours old, small body hooked up to a number of tubes and wires. He’d been lying in an incubator, eyes screwed tight and hands clenched into small little fists, his feet kicking so that they’re blurred in the photo. It had been the most energy he’d had at the time so Sam quickly snapped the photo, wanting to have at least one memory of his little boy in case he didn’t make it. That time had been a scary one. Sarah was nearly in her forties when she found out she was pregnant with their second; it was a rough time to have a bun in the oven. That pregnancy had been a doozy. She was sick all the time and there were a lot of scares. Adam almost didn’t make it. He was born almost two months early, and he spent nearly as long in the NICU unit. Adam proved to be a fighter and he has been ever since, just Sam’s little pride and joy.
Sam looks from one face to another, all staring back at him, smiles on their faces, mocking him in their little cork board world. He wishes he could be that happy. Hell, he wishes he could be that _young_ again. There’re photos of him and Dean sharing a beer after a hunt, photos of him holding Sara in his arms on their wedding day, photos of Dean and Cas. At the picture of his brother and the nerd angel, Sam feels another pang of misery hit him. He sucks in a breath and pinches his eyes closed, trying to work through it, to not go back to where he was not just five minutes ago.
“Pa?” Mary Ellen questions out of the blue, making Sam jump in his chair, the leather creaking in protest. He swivels around to face her, banging his knee under the desk in the process. Through a Herculean effort, he manages not to curse out loud, big hands going to massage the now screaming joint. “What?” he asks finally, voice a little thin and worn.
“You okay, Pa?” she asks softly. Mary Ellen is half hidden by the door frame, her head poking around the corner as she looks in at him. She’s got one hand resting against the frame, the other clenched at her side. She’s nervous, Sam can tell. He heaves a mighty sigh and opens his arms to her. At fourteen years old, she’s still not too old or too proud to sit in her daddy’s lap and that makes Sam happy. Mary Ellen steps closer to him and turns just right so that she can perch on his uninjured knee, shifting slightly until she is comfortably leaning against his torso, his arm wrapped around her to keep her steady. “I heard you crying,” she says softly.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Sam stays rigid in his seat, squeezing Mary Ellen gently in a hug. She relaxes against him, letting him rest his chin against the top of her head. He breathes in the scent of strawberries and lavender, finding comfort in the gentle fragrances of her auburn hair. She looks just like her mother, the only part of him to be found in his daughter is the color of her eyes. Those gray-green eyes search his face for answers, peering up at him until Sam feels like she is looking into his soul. “Where’s your brother?” he asks to break the silence and keep her from asking questions he doesn’t have the answers to.
“He’s in the kitchen eating the rest of Aunt Charlie’s three cheese casserole.”
“Trust Adam to act as a garbage disposal, huh?” Sam says to try and make light of the situation. After the news of Dean’s passing and Cas’s disappearance, casseroles had rained down aplenty on the Winchester household, and the funeral hasn’t even happened yet. God knows that they’ll get more food then, so they’ve been trying to eat as much tuna casserole and three cheese casserole and hamburger and broccoli—a combination both Adam and Sam thought disgusting—casserole as they could before their kitchen would be truly flooded with home cooked meals. His quip garners a tiny smile from Mary Ellen, but it was a laugh that he was looking for. Sam sighs again and buries his face in her hair, wishing for the world that everything was different, that Dean was still alive.
“Uncle Dean’s fine,” Mary Ellen says suddenly, her voice strong and unwavering. It was such a big statement that Sam’s eyes widen from the surprise of it tumbling from her lips. If it had been Sarah, he probably wouldn’t have flinched. He’s used to her straightforwardness. But from Mary Ellen? Sam guesses she’s more like her mom than he thought. After a beat, he clears his throat and asks, “What makes you say that, hun?”
“Because Uncle Cas is with him,” she says, turning to face him and pinning him under the weight of her gaze. “You said that Uncle Cas disappeared after Dean died, right? Pa, Cas is an _angel_. If they’re together in heaven, nothing is going to happen to Uncle Dean. He’ll be happy there, I just know it.”
Sam sits there in silence. He looks away from her and stares at a spot on the wall as he mulls over what she said. Yes, there is a simple logic to it. Castiel is with Dean, and he knows from experience that the angel would never allow any harm to come to his older brother. This knowledge calms him, a smile growing on his lips.
“You know what?” he asks, leaning back in his seat so he can get a better look at her. “You’re absolutely right.”
Mary Ellen’s smile grows to rival his own. She ruffles his hair in a similar motion as Sam used to ruffle hers, and he tries to feign anger but ends up laughing. God, what wouldn’t he do without his children? He shoos her off his lap after a moment, saying that he needs to return to his work. He’s got paperwork to finish. Before he can even touch the pen to paper, Mary Ellen turns back to say, “By the way, pa. White Out’s in the kitchen.”
Sam just sits there and stares at the wall. Now he remembers where he had last seen it. It had been sitting on the kitchen counter next to a Tupperware dish full of some kind of casserole or other. He had taken it out there when he went to get lunch earlier. Come to think of it, he still is kind of hungry. With a sigh, he puts his pen down and stands up, pushing the chair back out from the desk. The paperwork can wait for a few more hours. Right now, family is more important. With them, he can rise above this. |
82ab043a7fc846808d2f7b4a3afc7a47 | ['f395e75cf1d94486aed59a48a68e34df'] | Dreams
_Running, runinng so fast my legs were on fire, I could feel the muscles screaming at me to slow down. No, I have to keep going for Prim, I can't let them kill me yet I must win for Prim. They were getting closer, closer, their taunting voices snaking there way through the trees and climbing into my ear...whispering...slowing me down..._
Bang! I woke with a start, my head throbbing from hitting the cold wood floor.
"Another nightmare", a soft voice from above me spoke,
"Yes", I said my voice raw, probably from yelling in my sleep. The light turned on and I tried to stand up, my head was still throbbing, I felt a something wet slither down my face. I touched it and my hand came back red. I suddenly felt very faint, my legs turned to jelly the pain of my head weighing me down. A pair of strong, warm arms surrounded me and I immediately felt safe. Peeta gently guided me in to the bathroom and started to get to work on my head, this was a usuall occurence, nightmares plauged my mind at least once a month.
"What was it about this time?", he asked his eyes full of concern,
"I was running from Cato, in the woods, I-I didn't want him to catch me, I wanted to win... for Prim", I stuttered, my eyes filling with tears. It had been 5 years since the death of my sister and I wasstill hurting I could not go anywhere without seeing something that reminded me of her."Shhh, Prim would't want you to keep doing this she would want you to be happy Katniss just like I want you to be happy." Peeta said softly smiling, " You can't get too stressed, you don't want to harm the baby", he put his hand over the miniscule bumb that had just started to show. It had taken Peeta 3 years to try and persuade me into having children. He had wanted them all his life where as they bought back to many painfull memories to me but now I am three months pregnant and Peeta was over the moon.
"Come on", he said breaking my train of thought, "Lets go back to bed, you need to sleep". He grabbed my hand and we walked back to our room where we slid back in to the warmth of the covers.
The next morning I awoke to the sun streaming through the curtains, there was a hand around my waist resting on my bump and breath tickling the back of my neck. I was still feeling off from the nightmare, or maybe it was morning sickness, I wasn't sure...
I decided that I should get up, maybe a walk would help with the feeling of uneasiness. I started to try and gently remove myself from Peeta's grasp when his hand tightened around me and he snuggled in to my back.
"Katniss...", he whined, "Where are you going?",
I turned around in to his embrace and put my nose in to the crook of his neck. "Sorry Peeta, I was going to go for a walk, I-I feel a bit strange from the nightmare last night."
" Oh Katniss", he said softly, " would it help if you talked to me about it ?"
"No honestly, i just need to get myself busy or do something, to help me get my mind off of it."
" Ok, but first i need cuddles and kisses because i don't know about you but i think they are the best type of medicine", he smirked,I rolled my eyes and slid my arms around his torso and inhaled the smell of his soft t-shirt, he was right they really were the best kind of medicine.
We stayed like that for a while, he then pulled back and looked me in the eyes,
"I love you" he whispered,
"I love you too", I whispered back,
I then closed the gap between us and his soft lips met mine. He pulled back and smiled at me and rubbed my bump.
"I can't wait to be a to see the baby", he said a maternal look on his face, " I want them to be just like you, strong, brave, caring..."
I blushed and hid my face in his shoulder, I could feel him chuckle.
"I love it when you blush to",
"Stop it", I said, I glared at him, " your making me blush even more".
I then felt something flutter inside me, I gasped.
" What is it? What's wrong?", he asked,
"Nothing", I said, "I think I just felt..."
There it was again this time it was more of a light thump, I put my hand on my stomach and waited. Thump. I grabbed Peeta's hand and set it on the side of my stomach. Thump.Thump.
"Oh my god", he gasped, " Was that the baby?",
"yes", I laughed, " Its kicking!",
Thump. Ow.
Then it stopped as abrubtly as it started. Peeta then grabbed me in to a hug. He pulled away and kissed my forehead.
"What was that for?", I asked suprised,
"Nothing", he said dreamily, "I'm just proud of you."
He smiled and climbed out of bed and walked in to the bathroom. I grinned so much my face started to ache.
I then realised, I didn't feel off anymore. | 2a80cbb979184ebcb707e362d551fc3c | ['f395e75cf1d94486aed59a48a68e34df'] | “Are you seriously saying that I am not capable enough to look after my own child who hasn’t even been born yet?”, Louis washed the rest of the soap out of his hair and shut off the shower reaching out of the curtain to grab a towel, wrapping it abound himself and yanking open the curtain.
“No babe come on, I did not say that”, Harry got up and walked towards Louis ready to help him out of the shower.
“Yes you did, you just said that you think I am going to slip when I get out of the shower and hurt our baby”, Louis refused Harry’s help instead holding onto his towel around him and carefully stepping out of the shower, making sure that Harry saw him getting out and not falling over.
Louis then stalked past Harry and went into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Louis dried himself off and then found some boxers, a pair of tracksuit bottoms- that may have been Harry’s but he was still mad at him- and a maternity jumper that Caroline had found for him. He then sat on the bed, he was having a bad day and all he wanted was some comfort from Harry, not a lecture on how irresponsible he was. His stomach then decided to rumble again.
Harry knew that Louis was perfectly capable of looking after his body and their baby, he was just worried. It was his and Louis’s first baby and he was scared.
He walked down to the kitchen, deciding to let Louis cool off a bit. As he entered the kitchen he saw that Louis had not made himself a drink or eaten any food yet- there not a mess anywhere in sight- so he put the kettle on and started to make some omelettes.
When he had finished the eggs and made Louis a (perfect) cup of tea, he decided to brave it and go upstairs to see if Louis was alright. He didn’t want to take the omelette with him as Louis didn’t like eating meals unless it was at the table, as he was prone to indigestion, but he did pick up the cup of tea. He walked out of the kitchen and into the living room and was surprised when he found Louis curled up with a fluffy blanket on the window seat. He was looking out of the window and into the street below so he hadn’t yet noticed his approaching husband. As Harry got closer Louis turned his head to notice that Harry was moving closer, he then turned his head back to continue staring out of the window.
“Come to bribe me, have you?”, Louis pulled the blanket up closer around his body,
“I think of it more of a piece offering”, Harry smiled bashfully and tentatively held out the cup to Louis for him to take,
Louis turns around and holds out his hand for the cup of tea, Harry gives it to him and waits for Louis to finish so he can put it back down for him. He gets a pleasant surprise, or just plain relief that he won’t have to sleep on the sofa tonight, when Louis shuffles forward on the seat, signalling for Harry to come sit behind him.
Harry carefully swings one leg up on the seat and slides it in beside Louis, sitting down and bringing his other leg up so that Louis is in between them.
Louis then leans back and Harry puts his arms around him, resting his hands on Louis’s bump.
Harry nuzzles his head into Louis’s neck as Louis sips from his cup, “I’m sorry for being such a dick”, Harry mumbles into the skin of Louis’s neck, “I know you hate it when I do stuff like that”.
Louis takes one of his hands off of his mug and onto Harry’s on the side of his bump. “I just feel helpless when I know that you are carrying the baby and all I can do is help keep you safe.”
“I know harry, I know but you need to trust me, you do way more than just keep me safe”, Louis turns slightly and places one of his hands on Harry’s jaw, looking him in the eyes,
“I seriously wouldn’t be able to get through this without you, love”, Louis used his thumb to wipe the escaped tear that had begun its trail down Harry’s cheek, “now stop crying that’s my job”.
Harry laughed wetly and pulled Louis into a kiss, although it was a bit watery, Harry could never get enough of kissing Louis.
They pulled apart and settled back into their previous position; Louis held his cup in both hands and continued to drink his tea as Harry rubbed the bump. As Louis brought the cup back up to his lips, the baby decided to make its presence known,
“OW”, Louis hissed, “ah kidney shot,
Harry hummed in sympathy, massaging the spot with his large hands,
“Feels like we’re gonna have a footballer in our hands Lou”, Louis grinned,
“I bloody hope so, no offence babe but your ball skills are terrible”, Louis drained the rest of his tea and began to ease himself off of the seat,
“Oh yeah, well that is certainly not what you were saying the other night”, Louis felt his face flush as Harry helped him stand up,
“Har har, very funny, now if you will excuse me I’m going to pee”, Louis turned in the direction of the bathroom and began to walk when he felt a hand at his wrist,
“err Lou?”, Louis turned round to a sheepish Harry,
“Yes babe”,
“be careful”,
“this is going to be a long four months isn’t it?”
**Author's Note:**
> Those new tattoos that Harry has got... i just.. wow.
> Em <3 |
dffe6baf08b74aaa835fe990fe1218d9 | ['f398b1b899a4406e8c4e2acc640177c4'] | “I wouldn’t exactly call it that,” said Genos.
Fubuki almost smiled. Two students crossed by in front of them, their laughter misplaced in the serious conversation. Fubuki watched them with a trace of melancholy, glazed and thoughtful.
“Saitama-kun is a wonderful person,” she said. “He is kind and welcoming and selfless, unafraid to stand up for those weaker than himself. People like us cannot help but be drawn to him. If others weren’t so afraid of my sister and the rest of the idiotic, judgemental, popularity-fuelled seniors, I’m sure he would have dozens more friends than the three of us.
“I only pretended to enjoy his company at first, selfishly,” she told the quiet blond, “but, somewhere along the way, I found I didn’t have to pretend anymore. I like him very much, and I’m happy I can call him my friend.”
Genos straightened up when she addressed him head-on. Some unfathomable emotion dwelled in her half-smile, a blend of warmth and envy.
“I guess you could say I was jealous of you, Genos-kun,” she said, “for settling into our little group so fast.”
“Jealous?” he repeated. The word tasted foul, and suddenly he found that he no longer wanted to finish his crepe.
Fubuki gave her head a small, graceful shake. Her features then solidified, the birth of a glacier, and she fixed him with an icy glare. “If you ever hurt Saitama-kun,” she said, “if you upset him or embarrass him in any way, my sister won’t be the one putting thumbtacks in your shoes. Do you understand?”
Genos stifled the impulse to tell her that thumbtacks in his shoes would not inconvenience him at all. Instead, aware of the weight behind her thinly veiled threat, he nodded once.
“I understand, Fubuki-san.”
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Tatsumaki turned out a lot ... meaner than I planned. Also, protective Fubuki is protective. Not intended in a romantic fashion, but I suppose it could be read that way.
>
> Next chapter, dodgeball!
5. The Deadliest Game
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> On the non-canon names: I didn't feel comfortable using the official names of Mumen/Licence-less Rider, Metal Bat, and Zombieman as school kids. So, I used the first names of their anime seiyuus; Yuuichi, Wataru, and Takahiro respectively. Hopefully, no feathers are ruffled by this decision.
***
With morbid fascination, Saitama watched Genos detach his left leg at the ankle.
A glance around the locker room revealed that Saitama was not the only one engrossed; several nearby students had also paused, some with arms half into their gym shirts, to observe the spectacle. Genos said nothing as he loosened the bolts in his calf, either unaware of or unconcerned by his audience, until the false foot popped free and fell to the floor with a _thud_.
The severed extremity looked strange by itself, an upright rod of steel protruding from a sock-stuffed shoe. The cut-off metal calf looked even stranger, oddly short where it poked out through his shorts. Genos reached for his replacement foot – a supple curve of new-age alloy, more like a blunt hook than a piece of human anatomy – and slotted it onto his ankle. He tightened its screws, then shifted on the bench to do the same for his other leg.
“Need a hand?” said Saitama.
Genos shook his head. “No, thank you, senpai.”
Saitama nodded, but did not look away.
His impulse was to ask if it hurt. He knew, of course, that Genos would feel no pain from this; everything below his mid-thighs was artificial, no nerves or sensation to speak of, but Saitama’s brain could nonetheless make little sense of the sight. He stared as Genos set down his hex key and cautiously stood, watched him bounce on his ‘heels’ to test the bolts were secure.
Once satisfied, Genos collected his gym vest from his locker. The nearby pupils faced away, furtive, the dressing room abuzz with low, interested murmurs. The space smelled of teenage sweat and musty clothes, sweetened by wisps of antiperspirant.
Saitama’s gaze lingered on his friend’s curved ‘feet’. “Why d’you have two kinds?”
Genos faltered, disarmed by the question. His white shirt hung open, a slice of black-blue tank top visible underneath.
“This set is better for sports,” he said, and shrugged free of his outer shirt. “They’re more durable, with higher energy return. That means I don’t have to work so hard to push off from the ground in activities like jogging and jumping. The other pair isn’t as sturdy, and can’t handle as high impacts.”
“So why don’t you use – wear? – these ones all the time?” said Saitama, already clad in his gym kit.
Genos pulled the vest over his head. “The daily set is more comfortable, better suited to walking for long periods of time,” he said. “And, well, not quite as expensive. Neither is exactly cheap, to be honest … I’m fortunate my grandfather has a hand in the industry, and can afford both for me.”
Saitama nodded again. He followed Genos’s feet on the laminate floor as he moved around, suspected that their rubber-toothed soles would be less inclined to slip than sneakers. “You’re a pretty cool dude, you know.”
The blond blinked at him, hands in his locker. “You think so?”
“Sure,” said Saitama, with a muted grin. “You’re like Major Kusanagi, or Eight Man. Got any special features tucked away? Flamethrowers, or something?”
Genos cracked a smile, and shut his locker with a _snap_. “I’m afraid not, senpai,” he said. “Perhaps when I’m older.”
While Saitama sniggered, Genos sensed eyes on the back of his head. Unsettled, he turned to discover that they were being glared at. | 3a6ee4391c354a0e938130c173e5a9e3 | ['f398b1b899a4406e8c4e2acc640177c4'] | Just as hunger began to boil in his gut, Saitama noticed that he was being watched.
He stopped in his tracks, halfway across a desiccated lawn, and glanced aside. A large doghouse nestled amid a shrubbery at the rear of the property, painted lime-green, beside a broken swing set and one of those red-and-yellow plastic cars for children. Two wistful eyes stared out through the mouth of the kennel, low to the ground, glazed and sad.
“Oh, hello.”
A lot of stray cats and dogs lived in Z-City these days. The thought made Saitama’s skin crawl, but he understood the reason for the numbers: many people who had skipped town to flee the recession were forced to leave pets behind. With careful slowness, he sank to his knees and extended a hand.
He expected the dog to ignore him. Most animals did, for a reason he could not fathom. Instead, it perked up. It licked its lips, then poked its head out of the kennel.
It was bigger than any canine Saitama had seen before, enough to dwarf a Great Dane, shaggy and black with pale markings on its face that resembled two extra sets of eyes. Surprised, Saitama stood. The dog likewise rose within the cramped kennel, its lifeless stare now bright with excitement; it bounded forward, reared up, and plopped both paws atop the stranger’s shoulders.
Saitama staggered under its weight. “Holy crap,” he gasped. On its hind legs, the beast was as tall as King. A small child could probably ride it like a horse. “You’re _huge_!”
The dog let out a powerful bark and licked his face, tail wagging with such enthusiasm that Saitama felt the vibrations rattle his frame. He twisted to dodge the sandpaper tongue, and the monstrous hound – suddenly drained – sank flat on the lawn before him with a huff of breath.
The beast looked malnourished, its nose pale and dry, frail despite its size. On impulse, he knelt to scratch the fur between its ears. The poor thing would starve here; the house appeared deserted, its master unlikely to return. Saitama fished for his wallet, and counted the change within. How much did pet food go for these days?
“I’ll be right back,” he said. “Uh … _stay_.”
Without preamble, he resumed his course across the lawn. He vaulted the fence into the next garden, then two more and a row of hedges, and arrived onto the main street. Saitama paused to find his bearings, then jogged to the closest convenience store.
Pet food was more expensive than he imagined. Not one to back out of a good deed, however, Saitama purchased the cheapest can he could find and returned to the gardens. He snagged an abandoned bowl from one of the adjacent houses, and found the massive black dog exactly where he had left it.
“Here,” he said, and emptied the chunky wet mush into the scavenged bowl. The dog almost swallowed his hands in its zeal to eat, the food half-devoured before he had even set it down on the ground. “Easy! You’ve gotta help yourself from now on, though, okay? I probably won’t pass through this way again.”
The beast lapped at the empty dish, and Saitama climbed back over the fence before its soulful eyes could cajole him into another can. The whines were difficult to ignore.
Saitama’s own hunger made its presence known, and he weighed his options as he traversed the hurdles between himself and the sidewalk. He could go home and raid the fridge, but that would mean dealing with a too-quiet apartment and he did not feel up to that right now.
“Saitama-kun?!”
The bald boy froze, halfway over the final fence. All but glued to the wooden panels, he glanced up in search of the voice.
A young man on a bicycle pulled over alongside him. In full protective gear, Saitama did not recognise him at once: it was only when the passer-by pushed up his goggles that a name popped into his mind.
“Yuuichi, hi,” he said, and dismounted the fence as casually as he could. “What are … you doing here?”
The bespectacled youth did not get off his bike, but stared at the garden behind Saitama in blatant disbelief. “Did you just …” he said. “Saitama-kun, you can’t cut through people’s yards. It’s illegal.”
Saitama clapped splinters from his fingers. “Technically, no-one lives there, so….”
Yuuichi continued to stare. His plain face split into a frown, and he squeezed his bike’s handlebars in obvious discomfort. “I suppose,” he said. “Why were you trespassing, anyway? Were you trying to escape someone? Do you need a ride?”
“Ah, no,” said Saitama. “I was just thinking about getting some grub.”
Yuuichi eyed him flatly, then snapped his goggles down over his glasses. “Hop on.”
Saitama could not recall how, but – fifteen minutes later – he found himself seated across from Yuuichi in a gyudon-ya on the far side of town. The place was nice for a fast food joint, warm and cosy, the beef decent for its low price tag. Saitama sprinkled green onions atop his meat, and snapped open his chopsticks.
“You really didn’t have to buy me lunch,” he said, awkward.
“I know,” said Yuuichi. He blew on his complementary miso soup, and smiled. “But if it keeps you out of trouble, I don’t mind.”
Saitama managed a small smirk.
They ate in pleasant silence. Yuuichi only broke it once he had finished his soup, and poured himself some water from their table’s jug. “I know it was a while ago,” he said, “but, please consider this my thanks for saving me from those bullies in middle school.”
Saitama covered his full mouth, brow knit in confusion. Yuuichi waited for the memory to click, and smiled wider when Saitama’s expression cleared.
“You’re the kid whose bike I chased down the hill,” he said. “I remember. Wow.” |
5589252920954609b0b3d2b5a36f4826 | ['f3a3f3d1436e4f8dada5c30a49699209'] | “Well, yeah, had to choose something special for Yaz!” The Doctor replied quickly. She paused. “I wanted you to have a good time. With me.” She avoided Yaz’s gaze, her discomfort with feelings creeping in.
“I did. Thank you,” Yaz smiled. “And if you wanted to go to another one of these festivals, maybe without the boys this time, I would love that.”
They grinned at each other.
“Oh, it’s a date then.”
* * *
It was too early for Ryan to be awake. He’d reached the kitchen and was attempting to piece together something resembling breakfast when Yaz came in.
“Good morning!”
Ryan slowly turned towards her. “You are _ way _ too happy for the morning. What is going on?” He looked at her suspiciously. “Should I be worried?”
“No! Why would you have to worry?”
Ryan was about to answer when the Doctor walked in the kitchen, casually dropping a kiss on Yaz’s cheek before sitting at the table and fiddling with the toaster. He blinked, his mouth half open. “What?”
Yaz blushed. “Do _ not _ start.” She stepped closer to him, checking that the Doctor wasn’t listening. “We… talked last night so, you know, you won’t have to ‘make a move’ for me or anything.”
“You ‘talked’ huh?” Yaz glared at him, so he put up his hands in defeat. “For real, I’m glad you two figured it out. Don’t think I’m gonna stop teasing you though.”
Yaz rolled her eyes. “Thank you.”
The pair jumped as they heard a small explosion coming the table where the Doctor was sitting.
“Whoops! Sorry gang, that was _ not _ supposed to explode. Um. I hope nobody wanted toast.”
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> who knows how to end chapters??? not me!
>
> hope u liked it! see u soon i hope!
**Author's Note:**
> am i writing this in part because i wanted to see if i could only use let's make a music lyrics for the titles? maybe? so???
>
> i actually have an outline of sorts for this and im into it so i should finish it! dont expect long chapters (like, longer than this) tho, if it happens it happens but i have no idea how this is gonna go.
>
> im having fun! wild!
>
> see u next time <3 | b7d7431123a140b18e259139a55375b0 | ['f3a3f3d1436e4f8dada5c30a49699209'] |
i rolled thirteen on a pair of dice
**Author's Note:**
> so, this is my first proper fic, and i couldn't stop thinking about this idea for the last like 2 days? so i wrote it, lol. also, the doctor is canonically nb and i wanted to use they/them bc im projecting lmao. but like, i think they're whatever about pronouns.
>
> this might be messy, i kinda wrote it all at once. turns out its way easier to write a fic than an essay for school.
>
> oh and theres no proper relationship happening. its mostly a character study.
>
> title from Rio by Mika
It had been a bit of a day.
Really, it shouldn’t have been, but the TARDIS had… miscalculated where the Doctor wanted to go, so they had all ended up in the middle of a conflict between two clans. This was already a stressful situation for the Doctor, who had immediately tried to get their fam back in the ship so they wouldn’t be harmed, but it was made worse when Yaz and Ryan were quickly taken away by some soldiers. Now, the Doctor always worried about their companions’ safety, but they were still new, they still believe the Doctor was a good person. So, the Doctor had to work to get them back without letting themselves feel as angry as they really did, which ended up being more draining than they expected. They couldn’t let the humans know how easy it would be to not care about the soldiers’ lives. Not yet, at least. Not until they had no choice.
Still, with Graham’s help, a lot of cleverness, and a sonic screwdriver, they were able to convince the native authorities to let them see Yaz and Ryan in their cell, at which point, according to the official records, it mysteriously unlocked, letting them run back to the TARDIS amidst yells and threats.
After making sure the two youngest member of their crew were not hurt, the Doctor retreated to the console room, letting the humans get some rest. They knew they had to find some way to distract themselves, to avoid being crushed by guilt, if only until the TARDIS assured them the humans were asleep and could not catch them in a moment of weakness.
As they were about to climb (fall) under the main console, they heard Yaz call their name. They took a deep breath and put on a cheery face before turning towards her.
“Oh! Hello Yaz, thought you’d gone to sleep! Gotta get some rest after a day like that, how else are you gonna be ready for the next adventure?”
Yaz took a moment to answer, observing the Doctor carefully, as if they were likely to run away at any moment. They could, sure, the ship would hide them for as long as they wanted, but they didn’t like to run away in their own home. The Doctor’s smile slipped a bit as they noticed the way Yaz was staring.
Finally, she opened her mouth.
“You know we — I don’t blame you for what happened today, right?” she said carefully, “It could have been you and Graham that got taken, or any combination. I know what I signed up for when I decided to come with you.”
They knew that. Yaz had know what danger their adventures could bring, but she hadn’t known, not really, who she’d be travelling with. It’s not like they could tell her that, though.
“Of course. But, I have to protect you. You’re still human. I’m… very much not. I could have survived a long time in their prisons, you couldn’t have.” Of course, they thought, they wouldn’t have had to stay a long time, if they’d been on their own. They would have found a way out, no matter what, if thing had been that desperate. “You’re my responsibility. I can’t let something bad happen to you.”
I don’t know what I would do if it did.
At that moment, they weren’t sure how much they would have said to another member of the team. They cared about all of their fam, of course, but Yaz… Maybe they cared about her in a different way, too.
“I know you think that, Doctor, but you can’t… you can’t feel guilty everytime our adventures end up a little dangerous. There are things you can’t control, you’re not responsible for everything. And even if you were, I wouldn’t leave after a day like today. Everything you give us, it’s worth the risk! As scary as today was, I was on another planet! With aliens! I wouldn’t give that up for anything.”
“I can’t let you die, Yaz.”
The Doctor’s reply left Yaz stunned. She knew that there had been others before her, knew, on some level, that some of them had to have had died with the Doctor.
She’d never wondered how many.
“Not everyone dies, Yaz. Everyone leaves. Some of them choose to, the lucky ones. Some have no choice. Some lose everything. I. can’t. let. you. die. because of me. You deserve to see the stars, Yaz, to see it all, but I know what can happen to those who travel with me. So I let myself be guilty of it all. Because otherwise, no one would be.”
The Doctor sighed and looked down. They hadn’t meant to say so much. What if they had scared Yaz away? It would probably be for the better, they told themselves. She deserved more than they could give her.
Yaz didn’t know what to say. She wanted to comfort the Doctor, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t get much more out of them that night. She settled with walking up to them and giving them a hug. After a second, they relaxed in her arms.
“Good night, Doctor.” |
653c0982f7a743059f99d501e36e1135 | ['f3bb34e5572c4ff4a216cd05b7c7a916'] | Magneto's tone was sharp and slice through zir denial. Eel opened up zir paintstreaked eyes and looked up. It was the Emperor for sure. Magneto's metallic blue eyes looked down on zir.
Fuuuuck.
Eel yelped and backed up on the couch, weight pressed down with zir hands and leg nubs flailed benath the blankets
With a sweep of a hand, Magneto had his magnetic fields tore through the room, sweeping up Eel and zir blanket pile, into the otherside of the sofa, while Magneto plopped his rear end on the sofa's other-end. The bagels and plate clattered into a neat pile. Cream cheese and salmon streaked the once shining floor.
Eel just stared at the ruined breakfast. Magneto's heavy breathing while he leaned back on the pillows was a nightmare.
Out of the corner of zir eye, it looked like his eyes were scrunched together while he pinched his nose.
Well, Mags didn't try to hit or yell at zir....sooooo, ze was most likely safe from punishment. Maybe? If ze had the rest of zir cybernetics installed, zir moodlights would be an ugly mustard yellow.
Cautious and anxious, but not about to melt down.
"...bagels aren't magnetic...". Ze clammed zir mouth. Great job, Eel, now you got Mags' attention. Again.
Ze felt his side-eye burning into zir. Eel wrapped the blankets around zir, wishing ze had enough food in zir stomach to turn invisible.
"Everything has a magnetic field. With enough power, anything can be lifted and manipulated. Of course, Transigen neglected that in their...." Magneto paused and looked away, his voice heavy and bitter.
Eel could hear the elder mutant gritting his teeth and exhaling through his teeth. He looked back at Eel and ze avoided his gaze.
"...treatment of you."
Eel's sharp nails dug into zir palms. Great, fucking Daken. Of course, the fucking Emperor knew about Transigen. Ze vowed to hide all of Daken's hentai and to wipe his laptop. To cancel the birthday strippers that ze had pre-paid for months ago with Logan's stolen credit card.
Zir stomach grumbled.
Fucking stomach turned traitor.
"I see you take after your genetic mother." Eel sunk deeper into the blankets and started to nudge a pillow in front of zir. Ze could feel the other mutant's gaze rake into zir black hair streaked with various neon colors. And taking in zir golden brown skin.
"Doesn't explain the paint or the scales however, both look of synthetic make and coloring."
Eel melted into the blankets even more. The pillow got nudged off via another magnetic sweep.
Yup, ze was going to kill Daken. Daken was going to find his ....ugh gross, adult toys thrown out.
"Stop hiding, you should be proud of your lineage." Magneto sighed and shook his head.
"And stop trying to eat food from the floor. Not dignified, not acceptable and I'll go make you some more food. "
The elder mutant stood up, his gaze still on Eel, eyes flicking over zir built arms, strong shoulders and firm neck. " Hmmph. At least you look like you've been fed these past few years."
Eel bared zir teeth, split tongue running over zir sharpened teeth. Without zir tail, moodlights, and cyberfins to flare out and emote, ze was starting to go from anxiety into wanting to run.
"Don't need anyone to feed me." Ze spat.
Mags raised an eyebrow and stared flatly at Eel, looking not amused.
"Without your prosthesis, you need aid to get around. And they are charging, child. Do not antagonize me."
So Magneto was lecturing zir. Great, just fucking great. Zir nails dug into zir palm deeper. Eel closed zir eyes, exhale and turned over, face buried into the couch's leather hide. No point in responding to Mags.
Ze was going to ignore him. Time to take stock of the situation.
First. Ze was hun-
Magneto cut into zir thinking. Damn it.
"Really, little one?"
Magnetic fields twisted around zir and Eel found zirself flipped over, laying on zir side and facing Magneto's disapproving glare.
"I WAS THINKING."
Eel snapped, angry shocks of electricity roiling down zir arms, crackling down the couch, and into the floor.
Nails digging into the couch, ze huffed.
Of - fucking course, no adaptive collar on either. Ze would've noticed if Magneto hadn't fucking cut into zir train of though. Ze hoped Daken had put it away, before Mags saw it, otherwise ze was fucked.
Ugh.
Another bolt of electricity crackled down zir thighs. Eel raised zirself on the zir palms, striked the couch with zir leg stumps, grounding the electricity onto the floor.
The blankets slid down as ze did this, revealing zir leg stumps and the crusty nub socks.
Fucking GREAT. Daken's clothes were all going to be thrown overboard. See how, he feels about being nude to the world.
Eel flopped back onto the couch, pulling the blanket back over zir. The creamcheese on zir hands had streaked the couch and blanket.
Magneto stayed silent through the whole thing. Weird. Usually the man monologued forever.
"....who did this to you?" His voice cut through the silence like the voice of an angry deity. His tone was quiet, with barely controlled fury. His own eyes were starting to glow. Just like how Eel did when ze lost zir shit and let the killing programming take over.
The elder mutant's own magnetic field started to feel heavy, like the air before a thunderstorm.
"Lab accident." Eel spat.
Relief mixed with annoyance twisted in zir stomach. So Magneto wouldn't punish zir for loss of control and emotional outbursts.
Ze could work with this. At least ze was safe in this respect, Magneto turned his wrath to those who hurt zir, not towards the symptoms of the pain.
"Daken told me you were an amputee, but its one thing seeing it, compared to hearing about it." Mags said in a low tone, concern mixed with rage.
Eel sighed. Time to see where Mags put the line at disrespect. | 8809b513be7a4064b26744fd9e2d466c | ['f3bb34e5572c4ff4a216cd05b7c7a916'] | **Summary for the Chapter:**
> Eel is awake and not happy.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> This fucking chapter and everything related to it has been giving me problems for months. So I'm just leaving it here after a quick edit. Comment if something doesn't make sense and I'll fix it.
"I can't believe you're here." Eel muttered to zirself sat on the edge of the couch. Ze felt naked and bare, under the blankets, without the rest of zir tail and other body parts. Magneto's gaze burned into zir back.
Whatever, ze was going to stay rolled up in the blankets. Buried under the pillows. Somehow Magneto's heavy gaze penetrated zir pillow fort.
Ze sighed.
Fucking Daken.
Fucking Magneto.
Fucking Laura and fucking Dr.Kinney who still had to exist, triggering Daken to loose his shit, causing him to get quasi-adopted by Magneto, leading to Magneto realizing ze existed, which led to zir trapped on the couch by a concerned Magneto. Not fucking helping that Magneto's wife, Magda, was also raised by Logan, making the man a weird step-brother in law.
Ugh, did this make Daken...zir step-uncle?
Fuck.
This was all Daken's fault.
Why the fuck did zir idiot brother have to dump zir off on Magneto's couch...one of his couches. The man had too many fucking couches. So Ze passed out at the goth club after not sleeping for 4 days. So what? That was what the stim drugs were for. S'not like ze wanted to sleep during Dia de los Muertos, not with all the dead lab-siblings that needed to be mourned and remembered.
Ugh.
Ze had a headache.
Daken was supposed to drop zir off back at the boat in times like this.
….Not Magneto's house. Family-complex. Whatever.
And with all zir cybernetics stripped off outside of the cyberjack and spinal rig.
...so it wasn't safe or comfortable with sleep with them on after passing out of exhaustion but STILL.
That was the crux of the matter.
"Child."
"I have breakfast."
Magneto.
MAGNETO.
Leader of the free mutant world, one of the most powerful mutants to exist.
Ze was related to zir, that ze had been engineered out of the man's stolen blood.
Fucking Daken.
Daken explaining everything in a paper note with a smiley face.
What a fucking dick.
Ze leg nubs itched, zir nub socks itched. Ze rubbed zir thighs and nubs against each other like some kind of mutilated oversized cricket. Ze felt the dried sweat crusts on the sock.
This sucked.
This fucking sucked.
The roll of blankets wrapped around zir, felt hot and heavy, ze sweated beneath the layers of body paint and glued on silicon scales.
After reading the note that Daken had left and seeing Magneto, ze had merged with the blankets and pillows, like hell ze was going to look at zir genetic source.
Ze couldn't fight him,couldn't out-talk him into letting zir go, and with zir cyborg body parts needing to be charged....leaving via stealth would be difficult.
Nearly impossible while equipped with only fleshy meat nubs and Magneto's electro-magnetic senses. Too hungry to wrap light around zirself like blankets for invisibility.
"Child." Magneto's voice, became edged with impatience.
Eel squeaked before ze could bit zir tongue.
Great job, Eel. The almighty Magneto is definitely going to respect you now.
Ze heard sighing and a meaty thump on the chair beyond the coffee table.
"Little one, there is salmon and lox on the coffee table. Child. Please. Emerge. I wish to see you. I am not going to harm you. ….I ...I need to see that you are okay."
Ze was going to kill Daken.
Painfully. Slowly.
Start out with psychological torture by denying zir lab brother his regular tattoo sessions. Yes, yes, great idea.
Ze shifted and stuck out an arm out of the pillow fort. Just an arm. The room must've been faraday-caged, because could only pick up on the magnetic fields in the room, though Magneto's field overpowered all other electro-magnetic stimulus.
Ze shuddered.
"Child....what-."
Magneto paused, Eel could feel his gaze burning into zir arm. His eyes tracing the garish mish-mash of brown skin, body paint, scar tissue, and the dull glow in the dark silicon scales.
"...are you doing?"
Zir hand felt around for the plate of bagels with salmon. Textures of slippery cheese, firm bread and slick fishmeat squooshed into zir hand.
Another arm wormed its way out of zir pillow fort and the plate disappeared into pile of bedding....only the plate.
Eel heard the thump of bagels hitting the floor.
"....fuck."
Eel heard the slap of hand meeting face and a groan.
Well this was fun. It's not like ze could eat the plate. Ze growled and threw the plate to the floor, it clattered, it made a dink sound when it thumped at Magneto's boots.
Zir hands clawed at the floor, reaching for the bagels.
Magneto's home wasn't Transigen and there was no other littermates to swipe the nourishment, but old habits died hard.
Ze ignored the rustling of pant fabric, the crinkle of the couch as Magneto got up and the thuds of his boots as he walked over. Ze bit zir tongue, trying to get the floor bagels before some asshole took it away like back in the labs.
Eel was half hanging out of the blanket pile at this point, ze was about to slide on the floor and land face first into the pile of salmon, dirty bread and cream cheese smeared metal. Zir eyes stayed shut however, in denial of the reality of being out of the pillow fort's protection.
This was fine. The last thing ze needed was to see zir genetic relative and freak out
Right when ze located a dirty bagel, Eel's other hand felt the smooth leather of a boot. Ze patted it for good measure.
...not edible, despite boots being chewy.
"Enough. I've seen enough of this and this isn't acceptable." |
fae5be5166734bc0952dee33dee564f2 | ['f3bff21a96f04fa888ed07ebce37532b'] | I guess it doesn’t really make a difference either way. This is none of my business. If Harry wants to side with the evil guy, that’s his choice, and nothing anyone says or does is going to change that. He can do whatever he wants, this is a free country… Oh wait, sorry, my bad, I was thinking of the states again. It’s hard to believe that I miss the place so much, isn’t it? But more than any landmark or building or boring sights, the one thing I miss most of all is you, Jessie.
I’m trying to think of what you would do in my situation, but I know that you would never be here. You would never lose your temper for the five seconds it took for accidental magic to spill out of me and injure and kill more people than I can count. I see a lot of students who are very happy with their magic, but that’s just not me.
It’s been so long, well, only a little over a month, but it feels like much longer. I feel like I’ve ages twenty years, and haven’t seen you in twice as long. Do you ever wonder what became of me? Or were you just pleased that I was gone, and out of your life?
I wish there was some kind of survival book to guide me through this place, because everything is happening so fast, and I don’t even know what to say or do anymore. I used to feel like I knew everything, and now all I know is that I know nothing.
It’s too bad that they don’t allow technology in the school, because then I could just google the incident, and see if you’re doing okay now. Plus I’d be able to do more efficient research on Harry Potter and Voldemort. Maybe I should try asking Hermione, since she is friends with Harry. I don’t know, I guess I’ll figure it all out later.
Yours always,
Sophie
28. Letter 39 (Tuesday)
Dear Jessie,
Today’s been a roller coaster, just going up and down all day. Ginny Weasley approached me, and apologized for not talking to me sooner after that bold declaration that she’s going to help me get together with Hermione. Apparently she had a lot of work, and ended up getting side tracked by life in general. In fact, she told me that I was lucky to have her get back to me after such a short time.
I almost told her to just go away and leave me alone, because you know how nervous I must be, thinking that no matter what leads up to it, there will be a point in the future where I have to tell Hermione what I feel about her. And that thought makes me puke a little in the back of my throat (and I’m really sorry if that just put an unpleasant image in your mind, but it’s true).
Ginny put her hands on her hips, and gave me a funny look. ‘Why haven’t you shown up to help out in the kitchens in a while? I mean, it was your idea to start with, so I don’t know why you went and stopped going. The house elves miss you’.
I scoffed. ‘Yeah, I doubt that. I mean, I never really did much, it was always the others’.
Ginny laughed. ‘And so humble, too. But I’m not lying, they really did miss you. If you want proof, one of them gave me this, with the strict instructions to give it to you. He would have given it to you himself, but he said that for some reason, he couldn’t find your bed…? Anyways, here you go’. And she reached out to hand me something.
I automatically held out my hand, palm facing up, out of some strange instinct, and the redhead dropped a small ring into my hand. I looked at it closer, and I found that it was beautiful. A gold band with a black pearl resting on it, large enough to be impressive, but not large enough to weigh down the hand of whoever wears it.
Ginny just shrugged. ‘If you want to see the other gifts they’ve all requested that we hand off to you, then just come with me. I was somehow delegated with storing them all until you could get them, courtesy of Luna’.
I haven’t really done anything worth a beautiful bracelet and ring, let alone even more stuff. I tried to say that, but Ginny didn’t seem interested in hearing it. She dragged me across the school, to what I assumed was the Gryffindor common room. And if it had been anyone else, I probably would have run away, but I do owe her after everything I’ve done.
So she told me to stay, sort of like how one would command a dog, then she ran off down the hallway. I’m pretty sure that Gryffindor’s base is located on the seventh floor. She came back after what felt like forever, and handed me a small bag, and it was lovely. A red velvet pouch with gold tinsel drawstrings.
I heard it rattle slightly as she handed it to me. Then she sort of dismissed me, and I came back to my own room. I bet you’re just as curious as me about what sorts of treasures the house elves have given me, and to be honest, where they got those treasures from. But I’m so excited, I couldn’t wait to write to you, so I’ll open the bag as soon as I sign this letter.
Yours always,
Sophie
29. Letter 40 (Wednesday)
Dear Jessie, | ee12f91a36e440e3908aa8cf9ca1d3d2 | ['f3bff21a96f04fa888ed07ebce37532b'] |
1. Chapter 1
“Can I tell you a secret, Doctor? I hate you with every fiber of my being. And trust me, I’ve got a lot more of those than most people.”
The Doctor frowned, unsure of how exactly to respond to a statement like that. “Why do you hate me so much? Is it- is it because I did this to you?”
The old woman lying on the ground huffed out an unhappy laugh. “Of course you would think that it’s so simple. Yes, it’s your fault I’m like this, but no, you didn’t do this to me. And that’s not why I hate you.”
The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows, only feeling more confused. “Then why-?”
“Because you forgot me.” And then she breathed out for the last time.
,,,
“How can I help you, sir?”
The human standing in front of the Doctor had an earnest look on her face, ready to draw in customers, and help those who did come over. “I was looking for-” then he cut himself off suddenly, wondering if this was even a good idea.
The human grinned, and clapped her hands together. “Ah, shy about popping the question?” The Doctor gave her a wide-eyed look, which only seemed to add to her glee. “I couldn’t help but notice that you have the look of a besotted fool. Well not to worry, sir! With one of my rings, there’s no chance she’ll say no!”
Somehow, this woman’s excited energy gave the Doctor some confidence, and he returned the smile. “Alright, then. So I have some ideas about the design, but I’m not really sure…” he trailed off when he realized that she was giving him a strange look. “What?”
She laughed. “Nobody comes here for their own design, sir. Just tell me about your lover, and I guarantee that I will have the perfect ring for her.”
The Doctor wasn’t quite sure how that worked, but he had come here because he’d been recommended this particular shop by quite a few people. He wondered why anyone with such popularity would work out of a marketplace stall, but decided that that was none of his business. “Alright, well she’s… she’s the most beautiful person in the universe. And everytime she smiles or laughs, I feel like my hearts are going to beat right out of my chest because it’s the most amazing thing in the world, and she’s so kind and compassionate to everyone she meets, and she has this glow, this energy about her that I can’t even describe. She’s saved my life, and makes me feel…” he trailed off, suddenly feeling embarrassed for going on like that to a complete stranger.
But the human looked so fond that it was easy for the embarrassment to dissipate. “It’s been awhile since I’ve gotten such a romantic in my shop. Don’t you worry, sir, I will make sure that it is absolutely perfect. Just come back in three days. It’ll be four hundred yaros, but we don’t accept any payment until you see the finished product. I just need a name to put down with the order.”
The Doctor arched one eyebrow. “You can make the perfect ring from just a brief description but you still need a name to remember me by?”
She laughed. “Well, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be the one out here when you come back. I’ve got three husbands, and not a one of them is anything but useless at crafting. It’s actually pretty rare that I’m the one out here.”
The Doctor glanced down at the human’s hands. She was wearing multiple bracelets and rings. “Are those-?”
She glanced down and then tugged three different rings to show off. “My wedding rings. Made ‘em myself. Have a look.”
The Doctor carefully took the pieces and inspected them. They were quite incredible, and the way that the metal twisted around was like nothing he’d seen before. He handed them back, even more confident in his decision to come here. “They’re beautiful. And I’m the Doctor.”
The light-heartedness of the exchange immediately vanished, and the joy on the merchant’s face was replaced with a cold look. “The Doctor,” she repeated flatly. “Right. Come back in three days and the ring will be done.” Then she turned away from him in clear dismissal.
The Doctor blinked a few times in confusion. What could he have possibly done to upset the merchant so much? But he found himself trusting her to remain professional with his order, and quickly left, not wanting to remain where he was clearly unwanted.
,,,
The Doctor rolled his eyes as he waited impatiently for someone to show up at the front desk. He’d already tapped the bell quite a few more times than was polite, but he was eager to buy the parts he needed, and be on his way. Rose was waiting for him, afterall, and he never liked to make her wait. The only upside was the joy he got at imagining Jackie Tyler’s reaction to Jack. Hopefully he wound up with a slap or two from the fearsome matriarch.
He had so many plans in mind for the next adventure. He was going to fix up the TARDIS, fly back to the Scixer Market to pick up his finished ring, and then get Rose. He’d probably grab Jack too, just to stop the bastard from complaining too much, but he was, at the very least, going to leave him on the ship after they dropped off the egg that was still waiting with the two humans. |
d6a5fdb8f56f49d3b1f1f153a4612e02 | ['f3c11b2d12ae4ce2a2472ae3af3020b7'] |
Underneath
**Author's Note:**
> Hello!
> First of all, I need to say big thanks to fufu-chan for not letting me give up on writing for good and miya_sugar_star for being a great rp partner and striking my muse hehe
> Second, this work is set in the same universe of my future long fic, so there are a few details here and there that I didn't explain on purpose :)
> That being said, I hope you enjoy the reading!
Dusk colored the sky with dark shades of purple and orange, and, from where he stood, he could easily spot the first few stars rising in the east. It was a breathtaking view, never once failing to leave him in awe. That day, however, Lord Shiroyama Yuu decided to keep his eyes closed, simply enjoying the increasing silence that was gently arising with the set of the sun. Usually, at this time of the day he would be at the dining hall, feasting with his friends and enjoying a light conversation about Uruha’s adventures at the alchemy lab and laughing at the way Reita complained about his work with “Master healthy”, as he liked to call the University’s main physician.
But not today. Today was a silent day; one that comes with unfortunate findings from the heart, and Yuu was having a hard time with his. He sighed, sitting by a tree, his surroundings now darker than before. He took a fallen leaf and started ripping it with his fingers, thinking about his current situation.
Love. It was silly, but that was something he always tried to keep himself away from. Like many others in his position, he was born and raised with a fate that had already been set before him: The place he would grow up, the people he could befriend, the subjects he would study throughout his life, and more importantly… His potential love. Taking that into account, he never even bothered with developing feelings for someone other than his future wife. But love, as he came to understand, was not something he could easily rule over.
He needed to do something about it, anything… anything that would prevent him from keeping those feelings with himself. There had to be something, right? In fact, maybe it was nothing more than physical attraction or mixed feelings, since they were close friends. Maybe it was simply his body telling him that he needed a sexual relief, after all those days studying for his final exams and the pressure of delivering a good experiment demonstration at his Nature’s behavior class. Who would he choose for releasing the tension, though? When the person who usually helped him with it was the very source of his current… misfortunes. The newcomers, then? It was not a bad idea; the new apprentices were probably starting to arrive within a few days, definitely not longer than a week. And from what he knew, there were always new students willing to visit their superior’s rooms at night… Not that he had _ ever _ tried anything of the sorts, of course not.
'This is pointless’, Yuu thought. He was getting nowhere like that and the evening was getting colder. It was time to go back. Nevertheless, he remained there, simply watching the sky, hugging his knees to keep himself warmer and… less lonely. If he was to follow his instincts, he would run straight to his friend’s room and hide himself in his strong arms, enjoying the familiar scent that he _ was not _ addicted to, and the gentle warmth of his embrace. Yuu would look him in the eyes and lose himself there, feeling nothing but bliss at the sight of his friend's open smile…
But he was not to follow his instincts.
He finally decided to make his way back to the dormitory, skipping dinner for the night. He stood up and cleaned the dust out of his pants with his hands, ready to follow the now dark trail down the woods. As he turned around, however, he noticed someone else standing there.
“R-Reita?”
“What the hell are you doing here at this time, Aoi?” His friend approached him.
He looked away for a second, noticing his stupidly increasing heartbeat. “Well, and what are _ you _ doing here?”
“Looking for you, of course. We were worried.”
He raised a brow, his sarcastic side getting the best of him. “Aw, my reirei was worried!”
“I mean it, Aoi. You might think low of yourself but you are still a Lord, and of course your family still has enemies, especially in this area.”
Oh.
“So you were not worried about me, just about my position. I'm glad you care.” he gave a sly smile, fighting the sudden pain that settled inside him.
“T-that’s not what I meant, Aoi…” Reita stepped closer, causing him to look down. “You are my friend.”
“Even if I disappeared you'd still have Uruha, so don't worry.” He mumbled.
“Shiroyama! Don't you dare-”
“What, he's your best friend and-”
“Oh so I'm not allowed to have other-”
“And he's the damn prince, of course you lo-”
“That doesn't mean I don't care abou-”
“Caring is not enough!” He snapped. “It's not enough…” He repeated, this time in a low voice. He felt his eyes burn and he blinked one, two, five times to fight the tears that desperately wanted to fall from his eyes.
“Yuu…” Reita closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Don’t say it like that…” | 5c53188f5e62444db7e35078dd5d2634 | ['f3c11b2d12ae4ce2a2472ae3af3020b7'] | Undeserving
**Author's Note:**
* For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).
> This small piece is for my adorable friend, Fuki. Thank you for not letting me give up!
> Also, this ended up being quite personal to me, so I hope you all like it!
He was no anxious man, he truly wasn’t. He had never been one for insecurity either, really. If he thought about it, overall he could say that he was perhaps overconfident, in the end. For that reason he could not understand the way his heartbeat increased to a rhythm faster than Kai’s drums and louder than the sound of his own voice when he was in the presence of that other man.
Perhaps the answer lay in the way his fingertips gently, but surely, switched from one accord to the other, turning into a melody that could never be played by no other in the same way; one that, when mixed with the sound of his voice, became pure heaven in his ears. Or maybe it was in the way he moved around, always making himself noticed simply by the way he walked, sometimes like a wild cat, sometimes like a lord, but always drawing everyone’s attention to the confident swing of his body, from head to toe. Or even his voice, a voice that always sounded both deep and sweet, in a perfect contradiction that was tailor-made just for him, showing the best of who he truly was, and always converging to a constant timid smile that fit him better than anyone else.
However, during the honest hours of his days – or simply during his insomnia nights – the answer always came with ease, and it was, indeed, that easiness that hit him the most. The truth scared him like a child afraid of ghost stories, always disturbed yet always looking for more, and it made him think little of himself. He felt weak and ashamed, undeserving of his own feelings, as if he could maculate those pure body reactions with his twisted mind that always found a way to fuck everything up. But, in reality, all he really wanted was to feel free to... To simply feel.
He had always been scared of feeling too much, needing too much, wanting too much. When it came to the other man, at least. It hurt him not to be able to open himself completely and every time he thought about it he felt himself even less deserving of every slight touch, every gentle smile and every shade of red that ever crossed the guitarist’s cheek when they were around each other. And yet he always found himself needing even more of all of that, for the sake of his own twisted mind and his most strong desires.
In all honesty, he would never be able to make sense of what really feels like to be in love. He knew that very well, he knew it in his mind and he felt it with his soul. He truly wasn't capable of understanding his own feelings. However...
“Do you want to go home together, Taka?”
However, that’s all it takes for him to truly understand that love, true love, does not need a reason to be. It simply... Is.
“With you? Always.” |
05b0277639bb4dfcad81b7ee7c2e9bcc | ['f3d47444685b46759903733eb095b72f'] | “Of course I came. I’ll always come if you ask.” Erik’s voice was hoarse. Charles looked up, and that movement seemed to break the spell. In a moment Erik was at his side, on his knees in front of Charles, carefully holding Charles’s face in his hands.
“Charles,” he murmured, “you were never supposed to know. You were never supposed to be any part of this.” This close Charles couldn’t pretend not to see the red rimming Erik’s eyes or the wetness gathering on his lower lid.
“Are you going to kill me?”
“What? No. No, Charles. Never.” Erik’s face blanched and he buried his face in Charles’s lap. “Where would you get that idea?”
“It’s clear you have a type. Blue eyes? That was the first thing you mentioned to me, after we met. And I’m in your way now.” Charles laughed without humor. “Why couldn’t you just have left me for a Ferrari and a younger man?”
“I’d never, Charles. I love you.” Erik’s voice was muffled by Charles’s thighs. Charles’s own hand unconsciously stroked Erik’s steel hair.
“I know darling. You always did have to be difficult.” Charles spared a moment to hate himself as he clutched desperately to Erik’s strong forearms. Sobs welled up, fighting past his composure and without meaning to he let Erik gather him into well-loved arms and wept onto his husband’s shoulder, like he did when he found out about Raven and Irene all those years ago, lost to the carelessness of a drunk driver.
It shouldn’t have been comforting.
Erik murmured apologies into the shell of his ear, soft breath warming his scalp.
“Why? Why did you do this? Did…did this, us, mean nothing to you? I don’t understand.”
“Charles,” Erik chided, “you mean everything to me. I _stopped_ for you. I tried. You have no idea, Charles, how difficult that was.” Erik sighed heavily, and his eyes burned with a feverish joy. His smile was beatific, more peaceful than Charles had ever seen before. “I can’t explain it, it’s just. You’ve no idea. It’s a test, tracking them. Making sure I’m not seen. It’s…a thrill. Better than any hunt on the planet.”
“Hunters rarely remove their kill’s eyes.” For the first time, Erik looked uncomfortable.
“I’d rather not talk about this.”
“I deserve to know, Erik.” Keeping his voice level was a challenge.
“It was their eyes. I’d see them somewhere, on the street or in line at the coffee shop. They were like yours, only so _dull_ in comparison. That’s how I knew. Which ones to follow.” Erik smiled ruefully. “I thought I was being rather romantic, really.”
A shaky voice broke the silence, and Charles realized, belatedly, that it was his. “I trusted you. I _love_ you, goddammit. I should hate you, you prick.” His throat hurt with the effort it took to speak those words. Erik’s arms tightened around his back and the two simply held each other for a long, silent moment. “I have to turn you in, you know.”
“I know. I’m going to go quietly, Charles. I’ll tell them everything they want to know. I’ll – you weren’t part of this, I’ll make sure they know that.”
Charles couldn’t stop a burst of laughter from breaking through. “I’m done for after this, you know that. I’ll be lucky if I’m not arrested as an accomplice. Perhaps we can share a cell when everything is said and done.”
Erik shook his head sharply. “No, Charles. No, you won’t be touched by this. I promise. I’ll plead guilty to everything. There won’t be a trial.”
“Do you think for a minute that the FBI will accept that I didn’t know something? I’ve been with them longer than you, Erik. You never used to be naive. Either I helped you and am a criminal, or I had no idea the man I married killed fifteen people and am incompetent. The best I can hope for is early retirement, and that would only be offered for the agency to save face.”
Erik closed his eyes and sighed. When they opened, they held hard resolve. “You should have left me in the water. You must know I won’t stop you from filling for divorce.”
“What? What _are_ you talking about? Who said anything about a divorce? Are you asking for one?” Charles felt his face flush with resentment; different from the underlying confused sad anger he had felt all morning. “God dammit Erik, you cannot be doing this to me now-”
Erik held up placating hands. “No, Charles, I assumed, considering your position-”
“Lord knows I should, but.” He remembered the grief in Christian Frost’s face, Tony’s racking sobs and retirement from the public eye. So many lives, destroyed. “We’re losing everything else, Erik. I can’t lose this too.”
“You won’t. I promise you won’t.” Erik presses a kiss to the inside of Charles’s wrist as Charles pulls his phone out, dialing the number to his office. He has a call to make.
***
EPILOGUE
The months after Erik turned himself in were far more hectic than anything Erik or Charles had considered.
On the one hand, Erik was right. There was no trial. The FBI brought him in for questioning, and Charles knew they didn’t believe them, not at first. He overheard some of the younger recruits theorizing that Erik was in the early stages of dementia, or that he made up the stories for attention. The knife, along with evidence Erik had kept for all these years, quickly convinced them otherwise.
There was no trial, but that didn’t stop the media from forming a circus. After all, the Killer and his FBI Husband was a salacious story. Charles was by turn a scheming killer using the FBI to cover his husband’s tracks, an incompetent patsy blinded by lust - proof that homosexuals were somehow immoral by nature - or Erik’s greatest victim. Maybe they were all true.
Charles had done his best to ensure that for his cooperation, Erik was sentenced to fifteen life sentences instead of death. When Howlett found out, he came down to the courthouse and punched Charles in the face. Charles supposed he deserved it. Erik had been livid when he found out. Charles wanted to ask him what exactly he thought would happen when the news broke, but restrained himself. His husband was never the best at seeing the long-term consequences. Obviously.
Charles sighed as he pulled up to the visitor entrance. By now he knew the routine, had established a rapport with the guards. Four hours a month wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough, but. They both had to atone for their choices.
And when he entered the room and saw Erik, tired and hurt but not broken, he couldn’t convince himself that he could have done anything differently. | a75140c3107149018c4b4584ac6c9dfa | ['f3d47444685b46759903733eb095b72f'] | “Freak,” Cain panted as he pushed at Charles, knocking him down to the unexpectedly soft forest floor. He reached out telepathically, desperate to make Cain stop, but he couldn’t do it, not when his mind ached like a fresh burn.
“Freak, you’re a sissy freak,” Cain mocked as he kicked Charles in the back again and again. Screams tore through the woods. At first he thought they belonged to the foxes, until he recognized his own voice blending with the crickets and owls. Everything hurt. He just wanted it to stop; he’d do anything to make it _stop_.
Then, to his surprise, it did. Charles pushed himself to his elbows and looked over his shoulder. Cain stood motionless, mid kick. Stranger still, aside from Charles, nothing made a sound. His harsh panting and rapid heartbeat might well be audible for miles. Something -- likely a leaf or branch _or hand_ \-- tenderly brushed the rapidly swelling flesh by his eye. His hands reached out under their own will to repel the touch, but encountered nothing. The trees stood as silent guards as he gingerly pulled himself to his feet.
A branch broke nearby. Charles whirled around, but only saw a sea of trees. Something _fingers it’s fingers_ ran up his arm. Jerking around, he frantically searched through the trees, chasing the sound of faint whispering -- a soft, steady, unintelligible murmur that sounded, if only for a moment, like Erik. He stumbled backwards until he hit a tree trunk. Charles swallowed down his panic and slumped against the wood.
Then -- slowly, nearly imperceptibly, the tree behind him moved.
Something pale and slender gently caressed his cheek while a soft, muffled cooing sound danced past his ear. The tree that couldn’t be a tree held him steady as it stepped around him and into the moonlight. It -- he? -- stood tall, much taller than Kurt, even, but so _very_ thin. He wore a dark suit and tie and Charles almost felt relieved, because a grown-up had come, and could help him get back to the estate. Then his mind caught up with what his eyes were seeing.
The man had no face.
Sallow skin covered the whole of its head, stretching over where eyes or nose or mouth should be, and far smoother than any person Charles had ever seen. When Charles felt for its mind, he only found a cool blankness. His screams died in his throat as it reached out a long spidery arm and palmed Charles’ cheek, tracing softly over his wound. The soft murmuring gained furious intensity.
It turned towards Cain and growled, moving far too quickly towards the other boy. Charles wanted to run, but was frozen. He watched helplessly as the man with no face grabbed Cain, who didn’t -- _couldn’t_ \-- escape. It crouched down, and shrieked. Cain came out of his stupor and wailed as it began to drag him to the woods. Together they disappeared between one heartbeat and the next.
His stepbrother’s fading screams were the only sign Cain was ever there.
After either a moment or an eternity the forest rushed back to life in a deafening cacophony of bird and tree and insect, with Charles joining its ranks again as he screamed and screamed until his vision narrowed to a pinprick and everything went black.
*****
Charles woke to the soft, muted colors of the sunrise; but whether it a day had passed or a week he didn’t know. His throat felt like he had swallowed gravel, and his stomach ached and twisted with hunger and fear. Bracing himself against his throbbing head and back, Charles looked around, trying to figure out where he was, and how he came to be there. In front of him, long grooves ran into the forest. Then, the events from the previous night flooded Charles’s brain.
“ _Cain_ ,” he shouted, tears blurring his vision until he could barely the carvings on the trees. “ _Cain, where are you_?” His voice sounded unsteady and barely understandable, even to his own ears. He cast his mind widely, equally hopeful and terrified about what he might find. Cain’s familiar patterns were nowhere. Same thing for the fuzzy blank space occupied by...by the man.
Charles looked around for any sign of his stepbrother, and his stomach dropped as he took in the state of the forest. In the light everything looked almost friendly -- except that all the trees as far as he could see were marked with his Ⓧ. Tears pricked at his eyes as he pulled himself onto a nearby tree stump. At his feet, two paths intersected, all four sides leading into the dense wood.
So Cain had succeeded in bringing him to the crossroad, then.
He picked a direction that he thought headed towards Westchester and started off. Somewhere ahead he could feel the brushes of Rupert washing the cars as he did every Friday morning. Ahead, Kurt and Mother’s minds hummed in their rooms, resisting wakefulness. The trees surrounding him bore the Ⓧ, but they were his marks now, his and Erik’s, done with their own shaky hands. He ran, trampling through the final line of trees and over the lawn. Rupert bristled with irritation as he raced into the garage, but this was important.
“Mr. Rupert, please! Cain’s gone. We were in the woods and a tall man came, and Cain’s gone!”
Rupert’s irritation grew, but _why_? Charles gasped out loud as he found the cause, just as Rupert began to speak.
“I haven’t got time for your games or imaginary friends, Mr. Xavier. You know as well as I that there’s no Cain here.”
***** |
073428c153df4a89a5a9694c235de43a | ['f3ecef50a53e4d4598104503f598c31f'] | LiveFastClub
**Author's Note:**
> hey! just a note, this is set n america bc i have a better sense of what it's like to skate in america. also, i longboard, so some of my skateboard stuff might be inaccurate.
"Potter!"
Harry turned from where he and his friends had been discussing Neville's new binder, only to see Draco Malfoy stalking towards him, board tucked under his arm, outfit completely devoid of color except for his gleaming, emerald-colored shoes.
"I see your regular crew isn't backing you up today," Harry said, a little icily. Draco was alone as his friends and the rest of his gang went up and down the bowl.
"Yeah," he replied, shifting a little, and Harry instantly felt bad for making him uncomfortable. "Can I, uh, talk to you?"
Harry could feel some of his friends getting edgier and more stand-offish with every word Draco said, so he shot them a thumbs up and stepped over to the graffiti-covered wall, the platinum-haired boy following.
"What's up?" Harry asked, noticing the blatant nervousness in Draco's, well, everything. "Dude, I know we don't really get along, but is everything okay-"
"Yeah," Draco replied. "Yeah, fine. Just, uh, school starts tomorrow."
Harry nodded. "Unfortunately."
Draco smiled, albeit a little nervously, and only for a second, before continuing. "I don't want...anything happening between our squads this year. Last year, my advisor freaked out and told my parents and they-"
"It's okay," Harry said, laying a hand on Draco's arm. "Don't stress." Draco scoffed at that, but Harry pushed on. "I'll talk to my guys. And girls. People. You know what I mean. I'll tell them to be more chill around Snakes, but you have to give your crew a talk, too."
"Okay. Alright. Thanks, Harry, really." Draco smiled, genuinely, and all the stress seemed to leave his body. "I'll, uh, I'll see you later, I guess."
And with that, Draco turned, dropped his board, put his right foot on, and pushed off.
_Huh_ , Harry thought, as Draco left. _I never knew he was goofy._
**Author's Note:**
> bowl-the thing at a skate park that dips into the ground with rounded edges
> goofy - most people put their left foot in front when they skateboard. "goofy" is when you put your right in front. | edaf7c81d28d44418cec5ed7afff680c | ['f3ecef50a53e4d4598104503f598c31f'] |
1. teaser
**Author's Note:**
> heyheyhey here's a teaser for this fic expect the first chapter before the end of the week
>
> title from love someone by jason mraz
"Hey everyone!" Percy said, grinning into the camera, his son gurgling from the carrier on his chest. "Today Charlie and I are going grocery shopping, and it's...well, it's gonna be interesting. But life is about making stuff interesting, so let's do this!"
The video turns out to be twenty-three minutes long. It's a mess of Charlie's babbling, Percy mumbling "Holy _shit_ that's expensive," and awful food puns. At the end of the video, Charlie is no longer with him and he's back in his apartment.
"Hi guys," he whispers. "Chuck's asleep. I'm guessing most of you know this, but I'm nineteen. Young, right? And my youth allows me to relate to other young people. Long story short, I'm gonna be a counselor at the camp of my childhood. And sixteen-year-olds can be exceptionally tiring, I don't know where I'll find the time to update. So, there's a chance I won't see you until the end of the summer. So in case I don't, know that I love you and you're awesome. Bye!"
2. one
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> would you look at that? me, posting when i said i would.
>
> don't get too used to it lmao
**June 17, 2017**
Percy pulled up into a parking lot in the middle of Long Island, removing the key from the ignition of the 2011 Prius he'd bought second-hand with his first YouTube check.
He hadn't set out planning on being as successful as he was, only intending to be a daddy blogger (vlogger, actually, as dyslexia made writing hard). Instead, his mixture of humour, charisma, good looks, and a cute baby lead to over a million subscribers in three short months.
Sighing, he pulled out his camera.
"Hello, friends!" he said, grinning into the lens. "After my last video, the camp's assistant director gave me a call and said he'd be more than willing to lend me a camp office as an editing space when I needed, meaning I'll be able to make videos this summer! Now, they'll probably be mostly vlogs, and I'm not sure how consistent they'll be, but I'll be posting nonetheless! Also, you may have noticed Charlie is not with me. I'm gonna take a week or so to get a feel for camp, then drive back to my mom's and bring him down here. I want to spend his first summer with his dad. I'm thinking of getting him out in the ocean! That'll be fun. But yeah, I've got camp stuff and I will be back in a bit!"
Percy then shut off the camera, jammed it in his backpack, and climbed out of his car. At six foot three, fitting in it was a bit like origami.
Slinging a single backpack strap over his shoulder, he set off towards the Big House of Camp Delphi.
:::
"P-Percy!"
Percy turned, to see his childhood best friend running towards him.
"Grover!"
The smaller man nearly jumped into his arms.
"I haven't seen you in so long-"
"Dude, I missed you-"
"I missed you too! I subscribed to you on YouTube-"
"We should have been in touch, I'm so sorry-"
"Annabeth is here."
"What?!"
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> this is low-key set during this summer but idk. i'm probably going to blatantly ignore all laws of time and space but whatever
3. two
Annabeth arrived at camp eight hours earlier than she was told to. (Chiron knew she'd pull something like this, so he told her to come four hours later than he told everyone else, making her only four hours early.)
She'd gotten her cabin (six), her list of campers, and their section (16a). She hoped the person who had 16b, who would be her partner, was calm, cool, and collected. They would be important qualities for dealings with thirty sixteen-year-olds 24/7 for the next two months.
:::
"Holy shit!" Percy exclaimed. Grover nodded enthusiastically.
Back in the day, the three of them had been the best of friends. Every summer would find them completely inseparable, the boys frequently sneaking Annabeth into their cabin for sleepovers. After they turned sixteen and aged out of the camp, they promised to stay in touch. But Annabeth was in San Francisco, and Grover's family lived in a camper that rarely got service, so they fell out of contact.
"Hey, do you have your cabin assignment yet?" Grover asked.
"Yeah, Chiron emailed me. I'm cabin three, group 16b. You?"
"Cabin eight, group 8b."
Percy whistled. "Damn, those are some little kids."
"Hey, not as little as your kid! Where is he? I want him to meet his uncle G."
"He's at my mom's. Assuming things go well, I'll get him in a few days and bring him down..."
:::
It was 7:30pm, and Annabeth still had no idea who her counciling partner was.
She was down by the lake (everyone was for the start of summer party), hoping someone would have a t-shirt or something that said "GROUP 16B," but alas, no such luck.
Instead, she sat with her toes in the sand and chatted with Piper, who would be in cabin ten with group 15a. Piper had become one of her closest friends, as they had met during councilor training last year and both went to college in NYC.
"Hey," Piper said, nudging her in the arm with an elbow. "Look at that guy."
Annabeth looked up to see a ripped, tan, shirtless guy standing at the top of the tallest rock in the lake. The face of the rock was fairly sheer, so Annabeth had no idea as to how he'd climbed up it.
As he took a running leap off the rock, he let loose a cry of "POSEIDON," and suddenly Annabeth realized why he looked so familiar.
**Notes for the Chapter:** |
5a2438f89df241a2999e0a72df2232ee | ['f3ed4d2c4a3c495dbd3d6269b7485872'] |
Steve was an idiot most of the time. That was the conclusion that Bucky came to whenever he patched him up after a fight. Steve would come back to their shared apartment with a black eye (or two, sometimes the bully was just classy enough to even it out), a split lip, and on rare occasions, a nosebleed. Bucky would sigh in defeat and pick Steve up and set him down on the counter, grabbing one of the already stained (from Steve’s fights) rags, and wiping any trace of blood off of the small man’s face. Steve would wince and complain, but deep down he loved the amount of care Bucky would give him. They would argue a lot about Steve’s fighting habits, which would often lead to Bucky becoming a huge sap and saying shit like how he just didn’t want Steve to get hurt. Steve would go to sleep pondering on that, drifting off with a smile on his face, because goddamnit my best friend is such an idiot, and oh crap I should probably stop thinking about him, it’s getting kind of weird. Bucky thought some of the same things, but more of the sense that Steve was so dumb and needed to stop before he got badly hurt.
Steve and Bucky went to the same high school, so the taller was able to keep an eye on him, making sure to get him out of there before he said something inflammatory. Once, though, Bucky was recruited for the physics team or something, Steve didn’t really care, he was proud of his best friend for it, but he didn’t care enough to stay behind in the classroom with his smart friend. Steve was hungry, though, so he decided to get lunch. Now, without his stud of a best friend to protect him, of course he was going to get into some trouble. Nobody liked Steve Rogers, the colorblind, asthmatic little kid that loved to get in fights, so once, Steve decided to not start something. He was grabbed from behind and pushed down just as he went up to the lunch counter. He turned around, trying to see who his attacker was. The culprit was some grade-12 douche who just loved fights, probably even more than Steve (if that was possible). The difference between them was that this guy was huge and probably won fights, as opposed to Steve, who had won one at most. Steve knew he was screwed, but did that mean he was going to back away or give up his lunch money? Hell no. He might be small and chronically ill, but this little fucker was always hungry. Steve got back up, raising his fists just in front of his face just in time to get knocked back to the floor. The whole room of people was laughing at him, but Steve didn’t care. He continued to get back up and get knocked down, ears ringing from the continuous impact of the floor on his head and the loud sounds of laughter and cheering.
Right when Steve was knocked into a table, Bucky walked in with the young science teacher, who was giggling, because, well, Bucky pretended to be a gentleman but was really just a teenager. He heard all the chanting coming from the lunchroom, and came to the conclusion that there must have been a fight, but he knew it wasn’t Steve because he had sternly, specifically told him to stay out of fights, right before he went back into the classroom. Bucky confidently walked in and quickly stopped when he even got into the sight range of the lunch counter because goddammit Steve I told you not to do that but guess what you’re getting your ass beat. Bucky did what he always did, stepping in and socking Steve’s attacker in the face. A couple more hits from Bucky and the attacker was unconscious, with no help from Steve at all. The blood on Steve’s tiny right hand showed that he probably had gotten one hit in, or maybe he touched his own face. This attacker went the full nine yards, with kicks to the stomach, face, a broken nose (noses should not curve like that), eyes that looked way redder than they should, and multiple splits on his lips.
Bucky carried a protesting Steve over his shoulder, carefully, all the way back to their apartment. He went about his normal routine of cleaning Steve up, not wary of the blood on his own knuckles until he went to wet a rag, and gasped, dropping the rag because of the pain of the cuts being exposed to running water. Naturally, Steve chose then to stir, opening his eyes. He hadn't really been unconscious, but he didn't want Bucky to think he was taking advantage of him.
“Buck, are you okay?” Steve asked, hoarsely, staring groggily at Bucky who was clutching his stinging hand.
“I'm all good, buddy,” Bucky tried to comfort Steve, because the last thing he needed was someone else to worry about. He dropped his hand, which was bleeding again because of the irritation of the water, and picked up the rag to rinse out again. He went back to work on Steve, inspecting his split lip, and lightly dabbing at it with the damp rag. Steve flinched at the contact, and the fact that Bucky was oh-so-close. | 343fcc280c00432f95811995745de4c3 | ['f3ed4d2c4a3c495dbd3d6269b7485872'] | “And I’m not a fan of homicide. Shit happens. Deal with it. Genji’s okay, he turned out great. He’s mostly robot now, but that’s cool.”
Gabriel was fuming, smoke coming off of him very concentrated, and dissipating once the plumes were visible. “You don’t know anything about this, Morrison. You were always too busy being _ Mr. Golden Boy Overwatch _ to care about what we had to do.”
“Can we not do this in front of everyone? It’s probably going to end in a fight, and that’s not something I want everyone to see.” Hanzo walked in the house, understanding that they had to hash this out. Jesse and Ana followed closely.
“What I did as Reaper wasn’t me. I was fucking brainwashed. Why don’t you get that.”
“My general concensus is to not trust dead people. If I were dead, I would lie about shit, too.”
“Morrison. I’m not lying. Do you want to know what I remember about that time? Nothing. I don’t know shit about what happened. I know about certain things that I did during that time, but only because someone had told me. Shit, man, I didn’t even know you were alive until Ana told me that I tried to kill you.”
“Why would I believe you?”
“I rescued you!”
“I didn't need it. I would've gotten out.”
“I still did it, though.”
“Why?”
Gabe stammered, trying to find his words. “Because. I did. I'm just going to go get the shit for your visor.”
“Are you crying right now? I can't tell because I can't see, but I hear your breathing.”
“I'm not crying. Go in the house and get settled or whatever. I'll be back later.”
“You are. It sounds the same. Why are you crying?”
“I'm not. If I was, you wouldn't understand.”
“I wouldn't expect to. But, if you want to go so badly, just do it. It’d be like Gabriel Reyes to fucking leave.”
“That’s it, you ass!” Gabriel surged forward and grabbed him by the collar, pinning him against the white brick of Jesse’s house. Even in his younger days, Gabriel had had a temper. “Oh my God, youre right.” He set Jack down gently. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. Please, please forgive me, Jack, I’m sorry.”
“At least I can almost believe that you’re Gabriel after that exposition.”
“I can control my anger, I swear, I just need to talk about it.”
“Are you trying to cope?” Jack shook his head. “What the fuck, man? No one copes with this shit. What’d they do to you?”
“None of your business.”
“By the way, I forgive you for trying to kill me. And for what just happened. It’s not just you, man, I’d fucking deck you in an instant.”
“Why?”
“I kind of hate you. It’s fine, though. I’ll overcome it.”
Gabriel choked on a sob as Jack left him on the porch, fumbling for the handle of the door blindly. He shadow stepped away, heading to Gibraltar for the lenses.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> So! Jack! Omg. We're getting close to the end, here (not).
>
> In this chapter we meet Jack, who may or may not be edgier than Gabe. My headcanons for Jack all stem from him not being able to cope very well with all the crap that's happened in his life, thus the tag "Crippling Depression Jack." It just seems logical. The guy canonically doesn't value his life/well-being very much, so that's why I chose to write him as such.
>
> Gabriel's little outburst! Before y'all get mad, it's based on canon. Michael Chu tweeted (if anyone can find the link, hmu) that Gabriel thought Jack left him for dead after the explosion. I'd be pretty mad at my significant other if they did that to me. When I wrote about him being angry before, that stems from both of them being hella stressed all the time, they'd probably both be in a state of misplaced anger.
>
> Radical!
>
> If you enjoyed, Kudos, comments, and shares are always super appreciated! (Actually! Tell me what you liked! What didn't you like? How can I improve? Let me know!)
>
> https://reyesbutt.tumblr.com/
6. Chapter 6 // A Better Sun
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Jack is back. He's not dead, just old.
Gibraltar was unchanged from the last time he was there. He walked down the familiar tunnels leading to Winston’s workshop, humming the tune to a song he couldn't remember the name of. When he reached the door, he turned to smoke and slipped under it, condensing again once inside.
He had no clue what he was looking for, besides the fact that Jack said they were lenses. Probably red, seeing that his visor was red. He found a lot of metal scraps, frayed cables, and empty peanut butter containers before finding a box labeled “lenses,” which he concluded must've been the right thing. He peeked in the box, seeing copies of the one that was cracked in Jack’s visor. He grabbed the entire box and shadow stepped out of there, intending to go back to Jesse’s. He couldn't. He had to be in a more open space for that. He smoked under the door and walked back to the place he originally arrived. As he got closer to the atrium, he heard two voices. One deep, and one high, which he immediately recognized. Winston and Tracer. What would they be doing at a shut down Watchpoint? Gabriel wanted to ask, but decided not to take any chances, and shadow stepped the first second he could.
He almost fell and dropped the lenses as he hit the porch, sinking down to his knees to lessen the impact. He was tired again. He needed to stop pushing himself. He needed to not talk to Jack or anyone else and get his energy up again. He got up, regardless, and walked into the house. |
6a47e4464ca24bc6a57e381dec721c6b | ['f3fad08b1b074031b93888fad4491417'] | The next two months were excruciating. And Lavi, the little shit, found a loophole in their agreement. He didn’t come up to the apartment, no, but was suddenly very into Pokemon Go, which allowed him to walk all over the neighborhood- Allen saw him at least twice a day.
Until he wasn’t. The auburn head knew he was probably overreacting, but that freckled face had been going out of his way to walk by so often the past few weeks that by the second day without it, he was calling Tyki.
“Hel-lo, Dahling,” came the greeting.
Allen rapidly explained what was going on and how worried he was, but before he could get to how he was probably overreacting, Tyki interrupted. “What name is he under?”
“L-E-A-H Anderson.”
A pause. Typing. The discovery of computers and their systems had opened up a whole world to the taller man- he was actually a very gifted hacker, probably already in and out of the records of several of the area’s hospitals and… ‘Not thinking about that.’
“He was admitted to Memorial Hospital the other night. Looks like he got the shit kicked out of him.”
Fuck. “How badly?”
“I don’t know a lot of this medical jargon… It looks like they got him stable, but he’s still in the ICU. Lemme see if his room’s near a security camera.”
Allen waited.
“Sorry, no-go.”
“Thanks for trying. Dammit. I can’t even visit him.”
“He’s been practically living in your office, hasn’t he? Would it really be so inappropriate for you to show come concern for him?”
“…I guess not, but how would I have found out about it? And ICU- that usually means only family.”
“Fuck, that’s true; I forgot about that bullshit. Well, I can keep you updated, at least. You two lovebirds still texting each other?”
“Yeah, but if I text him now, it’s too likely his mother becomes aware we’re texting each other and promptly loses her shit.” Even if Lavi had been deleting certain messages, she didn’t need to know how often they were talking.
“Fair enough.”
“Anything on how or why he was beat up? If he was beat up?”
“I was just going off his injuries and that he was found on the side of the street.”
Hell. “What are his injuries?”
“Don’t torture yourself, Allen. He’s stable, and seems to be doing well. Take that.”
“…You’ll keep me updated?”
“I will text you every time this file gets a single mark.”
“Thank you.”
“Did you get dinner yet?”
“Um… no. No, I didn’t,” he realized.
“Get some food. Try to relax and trust me.”
“See, the last time you said that-”
“And the million times before that?”
“Yeah, okay. Fair.”
“Go get your scrawny ass fed.”
“Sorry we can’t all be built like a fucking house.”
“I mean it, Allen. Eat. Starving yourself won’t do him any good.”
“Okay, okay, I’m going. Talk to you later.”
“Yep. Bye.”
“Bye.”
&
Despite knowing Tyki was right, Allen did not eat that night. He numbly flipped through channels, mostly, grasping to find something that would hold his attention. Unsurprisingly, nothing was sticking- until he landed on the local news where a familiar-sounding story was airing. They didn’t report anything he didn’t already know, but now he had an excuse to call Mrs. Anderson.
She didn’t answer, but he left a message anyway, praying he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt for a call back.
And while the woman would normally take a week or more to reply, his phone was ringing the next morning, not ten minutes after he’d gotten up from a fitful sleep himself. “I do hope I haven’t woken you,” the woman spoke hesitantly.
“Not at all,” he returned as pleasantly as he could muster.
“I… got your message. Leah… has been talking about you a lot, that you’ve really been helping her, and I wondered, if it’s not too much of an imposition…”
“Leah’s a good kid.” It hurt to use a name he knew the other hated, but it would’ve hurt more to misgender him. “If there’s anything I can do to help, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“The doctor… It’s probably silly, but she keeps telling me that even though she’s unconscious, Leah can still hear what’s going on around her.”
“I’ve heard that too; it’s my understanding it’s been proved a few occasions.”
“…Would you mind coming down here to talk to her for a little while? She was moved from the ICU this morning so the doctor said it’s fine for a couple visitors, and Leah thinks so highly of you…”
“It’s not a problem,” he replied, spirit soaring. “I can come down after I get dressed, if that’s not too soon.”
“That would be wonderful! Thank you so much, Mr. Walker!”
“Allen, please,” he replied sweetly. “I’ll call again when I get there.”
“All right. Thank you again.”
“You’re most welcome.” He hung up, let out a happy yell, and set a new record for getting dressed.
&
Gratefully, Memorial Hospital wasn’t far (only about a half hour), and he sent a quick message to Tyki (who was probably still passed out), to let him know about the development, and called Mrs. Anderson again from the parking lot.
She came down to meet him at the door. “Thank you again for coming.”
“It wasn’t a problem,” he told her again. “May I ask what happened?”
“We still don’t know, exactly. Someone saw her unconscious on the side of the road. She might’ve been hit, or… I don’t know. There’s so many bruises, but the doctor says there’s not internal injuries, so they let her leave the ICU. She just… won’t wake up.”
Her eyes were watery. “I’ll… do what I can, but…”
“Of course. I know not to expect miracles, but given how highly she thinks of you, I figured it couldn’t hurt.” | 2bcd2bf5155f42b28d4cbd03058314c2 | ['f3fad08b1b074031b93888fad4491417'] | Komui knew he wasn’t one to get mouthy without good reason. Suppressing another sigh, he called for the man over the intercom. He was quick to arrive, and as always, with a smile. “What did you need, Tyki?”
He turned to the woman, but perhaps the newcomer sensed the tension still in the air, adding with cheer, “Why don’t you go out back for a bit while we talk, Tyki? I’m sure Allen could use some help; Kanda’s still on break, I think.”
“All right.”
The woman started to protest, but Tyki paid her no mind and continued unblinkingly on his way, making his way to the back of the store.
Allen didn’t seem to notice him come through the double doors, high up on a ladder while he rummaged through the boxes on the top shelf. Tyki took his steps more purposefully, not wanting to startle him. Suddenly, the other turned with a bright, mischievous grin. “Hey, Kanda, cat- Oh, hey, Tyki.”
“That’s not nice, Allen.”
“Neither is Kanda,” came the deadpanned reply, coming down properly with the item. “That lady piss off?”
“Komui’s talking to her; he told me to take a walk.”
The other stalled, eyes wide a moment. “That bad? Shit, what’d she do to you?”
“She’s just an ignorant bitch. Don’t worry about it.”
“Oh. Kept with the comments, huh? She is a bitch.”
“There is something else I’d like to focus on now.”
“Is that right?” came the grinning reply. “If your brain’s been the same place mind has all morning, I bet I can guess where that is.”
“Can you now?” the visitor asked, wrapping his lover up in his arms. Allen nodded, still grinning, and allowed himself to be pulled close for a lengthy kiss. But when the other’s hands began to wander further and become more demanding, he started to worry.
“Tyki. Stop it.”
The taller man seemed not to hear him, and persisted.
“Tyki!” Allen spoke again, this time with authority, and all motion stilled. “That lady really got under your skin, didn’t she?”
“Still no excuse. I’m sorry for that, Allen. I’m not sure what came over me; she didn’t say anything I haven’t heard before.”
The younger man turned his lover’s head to face him again. “Maybe that is why. Hearing too much of the same stupidity can fuck with you.”
“I guess. That was so stupid, I-”
“Stop. You listened. And even if you hadn’t, I’m very much not above kicking you in the groin.”
Tyki cringed. “Good to know. I’ll have to be sure to always be listening for your voice. It is my favorite thing about you.”
“See that you are. Still want to go to the movies?”
“Definitely. Whatever you want, and I’ll pay.” He had been getting all the bills so far, and was far from minding. Allen’s ultimate goal seemed to be saving his own money, and it wasn’t like the older man couldn’t afford it.
“Your funeral,” he replied, knowing there was guilt in there talking too. “I’m a pig at the movies.”
Tyki only laughed.
&
Allen requested a ride up to his apartment first to change, in which there were thankfully no visitors. He said he didn’t mind if Tyki wanted to do the same, but the older man literally shuddered at the thought of his boyfriend anywhere near that house.
The movie Allen wanted to see actually didn’t look too bad either, but just when Tyki was starting to feel better about everything, he saw who else was in the theater. “Allen,” he dryly spoke. “Did you happen to let my sister in on our plans for tonight?”
“I knew you wouldn’t believe it was a coincidence,” the other sighed, eyes as well on the siblings a few rows ahead. “Are you mad?”
“Confused. Did you really want to meet Neah so badly, or…?”
“Yes and no. Your opinion of him changes every time you talk about him, so yeah, I’m curious, and Road… was probably a little too willing to help. This was mostly her doing. Are you mad?”
“No. Both Neah and Road a good people, they… just annoy the piss out of me.”
“They’re your siblings, it’s their job. Trust me,” Allen laughed, and Tyki couldn’t help but snicker himself, even as they joined the other two.
“Tyki!” Road smiled. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Spare me,” her oldest brother drawled. “I’m on to you and Allen.”
“Hi!” Neah was introducing himself to the auburn-haired man. “So nice to put a face to a dreamy-eyed expression.”
Tyki groaned. Allen laughed. And what was worse, Allen ended up sitting between the twins, Road on the end with her bag of popcorn. The movie was definitely not the show she was there to see.
“Dreamy-eyed expression, huh?” the lighter-toned man was still chuckling. “I had no idea you thought so highly of me, Tyki.”
“Pfft,” the younger twin scoffed again. “You should’ve seen him last night; even Dad couldn’t get under his skin. You two totally did it in the nastiest way possible, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know about the nastiest way possible, but it was up there.”
Tyki sighed. “Why are you encouraging him?”
Allen kissed his nose. “Because it’s fun.”
“Yeah, stop raining on our parade!” Neah chimed.
“I’m going to murder you in your sleep,” his brother promised.
“You’ve been threatening that since we were ten. Still here. When you do snap, it’ll be on Dad, not me,” was the deadpanned prediction, and the lights finally dimmed for the movie to start.
&
Tyki dared to think that maybe his siblings were done torturing him, but as soon as the movie was done, Road piped up, “Hey, did you guys get food yet? There’s a buffet across the lot that’s delicious!” |
e2361bb019e444af844042d8dc45649f | ['f40de31aa0de447face0645bd26963b9'] | “HeLl MoThErFuCkIn’ YeAh.” Gamzee pushed Karkat off of his lap and onto the other side of the couch. Before Karkat could protest Gamzee pounced on top of him. He pinned Karkat down by his shoulders. Karkat tried to push him back but his arms weren’t even long enough reach his chest.
“GET OFF OF ME YOU SHIT SPONGE!” Gamzee shook his head.
“NoPe. NoT uNtIl I gEt My DaIlY dOsE.”
“NO, NO, NO, NO. YOU AREN’T GETTING FUCKING ANYTHING!”
“tHeN i’Ll JuSt HaVe To TaKe YoUr FuCkIn’ KiSsEs. MoThErFuCkEr.” Gamzee leaned down to kiss him but Karkat turned his head away and covered his mouth with his hands. Gamzee began kissing and nibbling his neck; blush peppered Karkat’s ears. He removed his hands from Karkat’s shoulders and gripped his sides.
“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” Karkat grabbed Gamzee’s hands and tried to remove them from his sensitive sides.
“YoU fOrGoT i KnOw AlL yOuR sEnSiTiVe SpOtS.” Gamzee smirked and squeezed his sides.
“SHIT!” Karkat wriggled under Gamzee’s body and gripped the couch to keep from squealing. Gamzee took this opportunity to catch Karkat by surprise. He kissed him roughly and tried to use his large tongue to break through his wall of teeth.
“StIlL kEePiNg Me OuT mOtHeRfUcKeR?” He murmured, before nipping at Karkat's lower lip.
“FUCK YOU!” Karkat managed to squeak out.
“HoNk.” Gamzee reached up and grabbed a hold of Karkat’s horns and began to rub them slowly. He gasped and arched his back allowing Gamzee to slip his tongue inside. Karkat almost choked when Gamzee’s tongue filled his entire mouth. He gave up trying to fight and tangled his fingers in the highblood’s hair and kept his hand on his waist. He squeezed his side when he ran out of air. They parted briefly; a thin trail of saliva separated them. Gamzee had now snapped out of his drunken state and his dazed and spaced out look was replaced by a strong lustful one. Karkat went to say something but his words were replaced by moans as Gamzee started rubbing his horns again. He became a quaking mess and clenched fistfuls of Gamzee’s shirt.
There was a creak and a thin ray of light spread over the two. Gamzee looked up at Sollux who stood in the doorway with computer parts in his hands. Sollux spotted Karkat’s legs around Gamzee’s thin body.
“Lock the door next tiime you two are paiiliing, a22hole2.”
“W-WE AREN’T P-PAILING YOU NOOKSTAIN ~ngg, G-GET OUT!” Sollux locked and closed the door, drowning the two in darkness. Gamzee went back to work, exploring every milometer of Karkat’s mouth. Karkat moaned beneath him as more heat began to gather in the lower half of his body. He felt his bulge start to unsheathe He tried to squeeze his legs together to stop the sensation but Gamzee’s bony hips were in the way.
“I gOtTa StOp BeFoRe I cAn’T mOtHeRfUcKiNg StOp” Gamzee said to himself. He suddenly pulled away, sat up, panting, and looked down at Karkat’s completely red face.
“W-WHY THE F-FUCK D-DID YOU STOP?” Karkat whined between breaths, he could see a thin layer of purple blush on Gamzee’s cheeks and the tips of his ears. Gamzee nipped at the top of his bright red ears and whispered softly.
“BeCaUsE i’Ve GoT mY mOtHeRfUcKiN’ dOsE fOr NoW.” Gamzee got up and held a hand out to a scowling Karkat.
“NO FUCKING WAY FINISH WHAT YOU STARTED”
“lOoK wHo’S tHe CuDdlEbEaSt Now”
“FUCK YOU!”
“yOu CaN hAvE aNoThEr KiSs If YoU cAn ReAcH iT.”
“YOU KNOW I FUCKING CAN’T” Karkat tried anyways. He stood on his tippy toes and held onto a slightly slouching Gamzee for support. Gamzee snickered when his face only went up to the top of his chest. He leaned down further so that his face was just an inch above Karkat’s.
“FUCK THIS SHIT I QUIT!” Karkat flipped him off.
“hEy KaRbRo, WhEn DiD yOu StArT wEaRiNg MaKeUp?” Karkat looked at the smeared white paint on Gamzee’s face and then ran into the absolution block. He found the rest of the makeup smeared on his cheeks and lips. Gamzee came in behind him he smiled at the smeared streaks on his face and laughed as Karkat tried to get his off with water. Gamzee sat down on the edge of the absolution trap (tub) and stared off into space.
"ThAt WoN't CoMe Of EaSiLy MoThErFuCkEr." Karkat looked back at the daydreaming juggalo.
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME I HAVE TO WALK AROUND WITH THIS STUPID PAINT ON ALL DAY!?" Karkat scowled but in the mirror it looked like he was the happiest person in the world. Gamzee wasn’t paying attention anymore, the sopor slime pie he ate a while ago finally kicked in. He swayed back and forth, giggling to himself.
"WhO eVeN mAdE tHe MiRiCle PaInT fOr My FaCe CuBe. I wOnDeR iF iT's ThE sAmE gUy WhO gOt Me mY mIrIcLe EliXiR." Karkat took this oppertunity to catch the drunken troll by surprise. He turned quickly and placed a short kiss on Gamzee's nose. Gamzee snapped back to his senses.
“aHh YoU cAuGhT mE mOtHeRfUcKeR.” Gamzee growled. His eyes narrowed and he grabbed Karkat by the hand and pulled him forward into another kiss. Karkat fell forward and tried to steady himself by using the side of the tub for support.His hands were still wet from splashing his face and they both went sprawling into the absolution trap. Gamzee landed on his back, and Karkat landed on top of him.
"FUCK" Karkat groaned when he saw that Gamzee bonked his head on the side of the trap. Gamzee sat up lightly.
"YoU oKaY mOtHeRfUcKiN' bEsTfRiEnD?" Gamzee asked as he adjusted them both so they layed long ways in the trap.
"THANK GOG." Karkat mumbled, resting his head on Gamzee's chest. | 8b187744642146c3a75bb0426b95849b | ['f40de31aa0de447face0645bd26963b9'] | “hhhhooOOOOOOONNNNKKKK!” Gamzee grabbed Karkat’s wrist and laughed as snapped it along with his communicator. Karkat began shaking when Gamzee equipped his clubs and licked his lips.
“HELP…” He wheezed out. He turned and ran.
“SOMEONE FUCKING HELP ME!” Karkat screamed. Gamzee ran after him. Karkat had almost reached the door when Gamzee blurred in front of him. Karkat pivoted and ran for a window. Gamzee ran after him, he sprinted through the door and caught Karkat as he tried to jump over the couch. He grabbed onto his ankle and twisted it sharply so it cracked loud enough for both of them to hear. Karkat had no time to scream, he was up in the air before he knew it. His back hit the coffee table, knocking the wind out of him and the table in half. Tears streamed from his eyes as he gasped for air. Karkat tried to stand but only managed to prop himself up on the couch. He hobbled slightly when he tried to walk. He slowly moved away from Gamzee.
“P-PLEASE…”
“what’s wrong karbro? CAN’T TAME ME MOTHERFUCKER!? that’s what you’re supposed to do? KEEP ME CALM SO I WON’T CULL ANY MORE MOTHERFUCKERS? That’s the only reason you stay with me. THE ONLY REASON ISN’T IT?” Gamzee grabbed a hold of his now broken ankle again and threw him against the wall, but not hard enough to break it. He jumped over the couch and grabbed a hold of Karkat’s neck before he could hit the ground. He squeezed his squeal pipette and dug his nails into the side of it so his blood ran down his neck. Gamzee’s eyes turned red now.
“AGGGHH” Karkat struggled against his grip and began thrashing around as air escaped him again. He equipped his sickle and swung around wildly. Gamzee grabbed it with his free hand and crushed it to pieces, Karkat whimpered. Blood spilled from Karkat’s mouth and nose as he began to talk.
“T-THAT’S NOT, IT I-I’M F-FUCKING FLUSHED FOR YOU F-FUCKER. GET THAT T-THROUGH YOUR THICK SKULL Y-YOU FUCKING J-JUGGALO.” Karkat’s kicks and punches quickly became weaker with every passing second. Gamzee licked the blood off of his face making Karkat whimper and whine for him to stop and listen to him. Karkat wrapped his legs around him to pull him closer and planted a kiss on his lips.
“PLEASE COMEBACK TO YOUR SENSES. PLEASE, YOU’RE ALL I HAVE.” Karkat wheezed out as a last attempt to bring him back.
“flushed huh?...” Gamzee’s eyes turned yellow. He spotted the buckets on the floor and smiled. He dropped Karkat, who fell over, coughed, and refilled his lungs. Gamzee kicked him so he rolled onto his stomach. He sat on Karkat’s lower back and lifted his head up by his hair.
“WHY DON’T YOU SHOW ME HOW FLUSHED YOU ARE MOTHERFUCKER? or are you just up and lying to me? CAUSE AIN’T ANYONE EVER BEEN FLUSHED FOR THIS MOTHERFUCKER.”
“GAMZEE… W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING.” Karkat said as Gamzee pulled their matesprit bucket in front of his face. Gamzee smashed his face into the floor until Karkat’s nose and mouth was bleeding. Karkat tried pushing himself back but Gamzee rested all his weight on him, keeping him down. Gamzee tightened the grip on his hair and stuck a hand into the bucket. Gamzee pulled his hand out and let the thick purple and red slurry drip in front of his face.
“eat it MOTHERFUCKER.”
“WHAT! NO WAIT FUCK!” Karkat wailed and tried to push himself away as he shoved a handful into Karkat’s mouth. Karkat gagged and spit the liquid out.
“SHIT! NO PLEASE GOG PLEASE NO! GAMZEE! FUCK PLEASE USE YOUR FUCKING THINK PAN WHISPS THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU’RE DOING! I’M YOUR FUCKING MATESPRIT DON’T DO THIS!”
“HONK! you ain’t fucking flushed for me NO ONE IS.” He shoved another handful into Karkat’s mouth and held it shut, forcing Karkat to swallow the slurry. Karkat closed his eyes and let tears ran down his face as Gamzee shoved more and more into his mouth and forced him to swallow it.
“HELP ME! P-PLEASE.FOR THE LOVE OF GOG, PLEASE. GAMZEE, KANAYA, TEREZI, ANYONE PLEASE HELP.” Karkat screeched; slurry spilled from his mouth down on his shirt.
“AHHHHGHH” Karkat kicked and screamed. He tried to use his hands to push himself away, but Gamzee held him tighter and force fed him again. Karkat choked, on his pleas and began kicking and squirming at Gamzee again.
“honk” Gamzee slammed Karkat’s head into the floor before bringing him up and forcing him to eat the slurry again. He pulled Karkat’s face up to meet him own. Karkat’s mouth dripped with the thick red and purple mixture.
“HAVING FUN MOTHERFUCKER?” Gamzee said as he licked his lips Karkat sobbed as his mouth was filled again. Gamzee brought the bucked closer. He closed his eyes for a bit and listened to Karkat’s screaming and crying as he scrapped his nails against the floor and kicked his feet against his back. He opened his eyes dunked Karkat’s head into the bucket and held him like that until his squirming body started to go limp. When he pulled his head out he was screaming and crying and gasping for air.
“JUST KILL ME NOW…” Karkat screeched as he spat slurry from his mouth.
“KILL ME YOU FUCKING JUGGALO NOTHING’S WORSE THAN THIS SO FUCKING KILL ME.” Karkat’s feeble pleas faltered. Gamzee waited for Karkat to take a deep breath into dunk his head back in. Air bubbles began floating up. Gamzee loved seeing Karkat scream, panic and try to get out. Karkat’s feet scrapes against the floor as he pushed, shoved, clawed, and punched Gamzee in an attempt to get away. Gamzee pulled his up for air before dunking his head back in again. He finally gave up and stood up and threw Karkat down. Karkat sat up and threw up onto the floor; some of the slurry was mixed with it. |
a05e7f57462c4ee2bafc9ecfce54b2f3 | ['f4774ae577a94dbab0558559c7b7a740'] | “Kaiba.” Atem wheezed out. It hurt to talk. If Kaiba hadn’t tracked him down by now, he might not be able to at all. Not with the busted duel disk. Unless the tracking device inside was still working, but judging from the flying sparks and electronic guts spilling out, with broken bits scattered upon the ground around him, it was doubtful.
Blood trailed down from the corner of his mouth. Atem spit a mouthful of blood onto the street. That wasn’t good. He shivered. The wind brushing along his skin felt like sandpaper and he wished it would stop.
“Kaiba,” he mumbled again, holding onto a futile hope that Kaiba would hear him and come running. Wishful thinking or not, it was all he had left.
His forehead was burning up, but he felt cold inside.
“Seto…” Atem shook his head, chocking out a laugh. “Is this it? I wonder… I guess I’m out of shape if it’s this bad.”
“Atem, you idiot.” Kaiba’s voice startled him. Large arms wrapped around his upper body, pulling him away from the brick wall. Atem’s head found a resting place against Kaiba’s chest. The soothing sound of Kaiba’s heartbeat called to Atem. He missed Kaiba, missed being held like this.
He was getting emotional. All his bottled up emotions, the frustration and anger, the uncertainty over his relationship with Kaiba, he couldn’t take it. Atem couldn’t hold back his tears. He bunched up the black fabric of Kaiba’s shirt, burying his face in it. He didn’t want Kaiba to see him like this.
“Forgive me, Atem,” Kaiba admitted softly. The words were so kind and gentle, that it didn’t sound like Kaiba at all. “This is my fault. I’m sorry.”
“What-”
Atem felt Kaiba’s hand slip through his hair, and across his lower back, as if Atem would slip away from him. Blood was dripping onto Kaiba’s clothing, but the man didn’t take notice.
“Seto…” Atem mumbled again. He was having trouble focusing. All the words inside his mind were jumbling up before they could reach his mouth and he had so much to say. Atem’s energy was draining fast, making him so very tired.
The alley way, the large green dumpster, Kaiba’s face, his vision was narrowing, growing black. His ears felt like they had cotton in them, and it was getting harder to concentrate. Kaiba was here and he wouldn’t let anything happen to him.
_“Stay with me,”_ Kaiba begged him. “ _I’m sorry for how I’ve been treating you._ ”
“Se-to…”
_“Don’t leave me, Atem. Come back, please!_ ”
* * *
A few days later in the hospital…
“Really?” Yugi asked. “He did? Kaiba!?”
Atem chuckled softly from the bed, which ended in a light coughing fit. “He apologized and told me he loved me. It probably won’t happen again, but he can be sweet when he wants to.” He gave Yugi a sideways glace. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone, Yugi. No. One.”
Yugi held up his hands. “You know I won’t tell anyone! What happened was between you and Kaiba. I know how he gets about ’family business’ but all the same, I’m glad the situation is finally resolved. I think it’s great he considers you family, though.”
Atem nodded. “He was having a rough time figuring out his emotions, between what happened with his stepfather, Noah and losing to me in _his_ duel monsters tournament. Pushing me away was a natural defense but in the end, I think he realized just how much he needs me. How much we need each other.”
“Poor Kaiba,” Yugi said, laughing. “He’s always the one saying you can’t rely on anyone but yourself and now his whole world has been turned upside down.”
“I don’t think he’ll ever openly admit that. He doesn’t like people getting too close. After all, you can only-”
“Rely on yourself,” Yugi finished. A big grin split his face.
“Hn,” Kaiba said from the doorway. “Sounds like good advice.”
“Kaiba!” Yugi yelped in surprise.
“We were just talking about you,” Atem said. His body decided to add an extremely painful coughing fit for good measure. “Wonderful. And the coughing continues.”
Yugi rubbed soothing circles on Atem’s back. “It’ll get better eventually, you’ll see.”
“I better go now," Yugi added. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
Kaiba stepped inside, letting Yugi pass.
“Later Atem, later Kaiba.” Yugi waved as he left, shutting the door behind him. “I’ll be back tomorrow after school!”
“See you!” Atem yelled.
He enjoyed seeing Yugi every day. It helped cure his boredom and take his mind off the fact that he still had another two weeks (at least) of hospital bed rest. At least he was being treated by Kaiba’s personal physicians, who were twice as skilled compared to most doctors, and Atem had been placed in a single room with a nice view as an added bonus. Sometimes it paid having a powerful, wealthy boyfriend.
Atem would never admit it, but being treated like a pharaoh once in a while felt nice.
“Doing better?” he asked, as he sat in Yugi’s vacated chair next to Atem’s bed.
“Yeah, getting there.” Atem shrugged. “Can’t really do much yet. I should be able to start walking about in a few days and the coughing should start to subside soon.”
Kaiba nodded, but Atem could sense he was distracted. Atem furrowed his brow.
“Seto?” he asked, placing his hand over Kaiba’s. Kaiba took Atem’s hand between both of his.
“If you need anything, just ask. I’ll have someone get it for you right away,” Kaiba said, “anything.”
Atem grinned. Kaiba was worrying about him, it was sweet.
“I need you back home with me,” Kaiba admitted softly. He slipped Atem’s deck from his pocket and place it on the nearby table. “After what happened, this whole mess, none of it was your fault.”
“Come here, you,” Atem said, tugging Kaiba towards him. | 9222e93fc2e446ad9988a3f6764e1273 | ['f4774ae577a94dbab0558559c7b7a740'] | Which was mainly the reason why Arthur gave his servant so many impossible tasks, that any non-magical person had no hope of accomplishing. Because Merlin was a lying, cheating cheater who liked using magic to finish his chores instead of doing them the old-fashioned way.
“You’re dismissed, Merlin,” Arthur said, having had enough of Merlin’s roundabout questioning while performing his chores. “Go clean the stables or something.”
Merlin paused. “Is everything okay, Arthur?”
“Just perfect,” he answered cryptically. “Stables. Now.”
“Okay…” Merlin said slowly. “I’ll make sure to be done in time for dinner.”
“No doubt,” Arthur replied. He waited for Merlin to leave before releasing a long-held sigh.
If only Merlin needed him the same way he needed Merlin.
2. Arthur Loves Merlin
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> This was originally supposed to be only 2 chapters, but as I began writing what I thought would be the last chapter, I needed to establish that Arthur had a thing for Merlin that was more than a passing friendship. I wanted to keep going, but the chapter refused to continue. So, this.
>
> **BETA** : TheSupernova
Arthur was embarrassed to admit that he had quite a thing for Merlin.
That’s not to say he didn’t like Gwen. She was quite pretty, after all. A bit understated and plain, but that was part of her charm. When Gwen smiled, it lit up her face and Arthur loved to make her laugh.
He had been quite happy dating Gwen. She had been one of the only people in Arthur’s life who saw him as a man, instead of a prince. This was a rare enough occurrence that Arthur had been immediately attracted to her.
Of all the other options Arthur had, between princesses or various socialites from the neighboring kingdoms, the worst were the ones Uther chose. Mainly because his father had the worst choice in women. Which was ironic, considering Uther had married Igraine.
Though Arthur was beginning to wonder if that hadn’t been prearranged by someone else.
Regardless, it was up to Arthur to choose his Queen and Gwen seemed like the perfect candidate, regardless of her lack of nobility. Igraine had been from nobility, but the way she treated her servants and those around her with kindness and compassion had left an impression on Arthur.
Unlike his father, who treated everyone more or less as “subjects of the kingdom” which was, in its own way, dehumanizing.
The point being, was that Arthur liked Gwen and somewhere in Arthur’s relationship with his man-servant, he ended up liking Merlin, too.
* * *
Arthur wasn’t sure when it happened, but somehow Merlin went from “man-servant” to “man-servant and permanent bed-warmer”.
The last part wasn’t true (yet) but it was the closest Merlin was going to get to “lover”—unless the warlock chose to change genders and become Queen. Arthur immediately imagined Merlin in a dress and a cold shudder ran though his body. Wasn’t that a terrifying thought?
No, Arthur liked Merlin the way he was (all gangly limbs, flat chest and big ears).
“So when did you know you liked him?” Gwen asked, while on one of her “dates” with Arthur.
They had traveled just outside the castle, near a sunlit lake at high noon. The picnic basket the royal kitchens had packed was untouched, as they were yet to fancy having lunch.
Gwen leaned against a tree, watching a shirtless Lancelot taking a swim. When Lancelot looked over, he waved to her and she returned it shyly, a blush forming on her cheeks. Arthur was lying on the ground looking up through the trees at the pure, blue sky.
“I’m not sure,” Arthur said truthfully. “At some point he went from a ‘thorn in my side’ to someone I want to be ‘inside’.”
“Eww, Arthur!” Gwen said, pulling away. “That’s crude, even for you!”
Her disgust was overruled by her laughing spilling forth.
“Well, its true,” Arthur stated.
“And crude. I could have done without that imagery, thanks,” she responded.
“You asked,” he said with a shrug.
They were soon interrupted by Lancelot, who was walking up to them while towel-drying his hair.
Once he drew closer, Lancelot threw the towel aside and leaned over, kissing Gwen on the mouth. While they shared their (sickeningly) passionate moment, Arthur turned his attention back to the lake. The water was still, and the air almost stiflingly hot if it weren’t for the shade provided by the nearby forest.
“Are you ever going to tell him?” Lancelot asked.
Gwen had curled up in Lancelot’s arms, laying across his bare chest. She was being cradled in his arms.
“Eventually,” Arthur responded.
Which was technically true—Arthur just had no actual plans for the near or distant future.
“He’s eventually going to find out that we’re not actually dating,” Gwen said to Arthur.
“Everyone,” Lancelot corrected.
“Right,” she said. “You don’t expect me and Lancelot to keep our relationship a secret forever?”
Arthur snorted lightly. “Of course I don’t.”
_It’s not a secret now._ Arthur thought. One would have to be blind, deaf and dumb not to see the chemistry brewing between those two, even in brief passing.
Rumor was that those two were dating but were under the assumption that Arthur knew this full and well and had only begun dating Gwen just to throw the King off Arthur’s back.
Which was, well, true. If Arthur chose a Queen, he wouldn’t have to suffer from any more of Uther’s hairbrained ideas at matchmaking; a strange, political marriage.
What amazed Arthur was how the rumors had spread to just about everyone _except_ the people in question. Arthur excluded, of course.
The only reason Arthur still went on these dates with Gwen was that it was the only time he could get without his man-servant watching his back with eyes like a (magically inclined) medaling hawk.
The bonus was it gave Gwen and Lancelot time to be alone together (such as it was).
“I’m going to practice my magic,” Arthur said, sick of the cooing and flirting going on next to him.
“Mmm,” Gwen said, clearly distracted. “Have fun.”
“I’m sure,” Arthur said.
See, Arthur had quickly found early on that Merlin hated going on his and Gwen’s dates. After Arthur realized he didn’t love Gwen in quite the same way as Lancelot did, that’s when Arthur realized it was the perfect opportunity to (somewhat) openly practice his magic.
Gwen and Lancelot would stand guard while Arthur went off and did magical-type things that he had no intention of letting Merlin find out about.
Of course, the ironic part was (as Arthur would find out later) was that not only did Gwen and Lancelot know about Arthur’s magic, but they knew about Merlin’s magic as well.
Which was probably what Gwen had meant when she told Lancelot (when she thought Arthur wasn’t paying attention), “Those two idiots are going to be the death of us.” |
a8d4770a8e234555a68f73cbb5cb2516 | ['f49a2602e683447bb9e54607294ebd3c'] | “Hold tight, Vidi. We have to get you off the ship, but it's going to hurt.” Lilah said, exchanging a look with Eidas. Eidas nodded and looked down at Vidi, who nodded and braced herself. Together, Eidas and Lilah lifted Vidi and out her arms around their shoulders. Vidi groaned but was able to help them walk down the aisle. For the first time since the ship had stopped, Eidas looked around the cabin. Many were checking on partners, kids, friends, trying to see if they were okay. People helping those who were injured, and… Eidas’ heart broke, others who were crying over nonresponsive bodies. “You can’t help them, Eidas. Let’s get Vidi to safety, try and get her the medical help she needs, then we can see about trying to help others.” Lilah murmured. Eidas nodded once, right. Vidi. We have to make sure Vidi is ok. They joined the crowd of passengers that were filing somewhat chaotically out the cabin doors. Eidas did her best to try to ignore the screaming of children and the cries of those who refused to leave their loved ones behind. Everything was too much, the tight press of bodies as the survivors tried to get through the doors people were behind them now, pushing them forward. Careful! We have someone who is injured!” Eidas could hear Lilah yell over the conversations happening all around them. Finally, they made it out the door and down the ramp of the ship. The process was slow moving, but the outside air felt a lot better than the overheated cabin. Lilah and Eidas guided Vidi over to a tree near the front of the ship, but they were far enough away from the ship to not be in the way of still exiting passengers. Eidas surveyed the small clearing they had landed in, a lot of people were resting annoyingly close to the ship, making it harder for people who were carrying the injured to maneuver around them. Lilah, Vidi, and Eidas sat a little further away and off to the side of the group, giving them air to breathe. A noise caught Eidas’ attention, a strange ticking that seemed to be coming from the ship.
“Get down!” she yelled just as a loud explosion went off. A wave of heat washed over her and she felt like she had been thrown into the air, she yelped when she hit the hard ground, and she tried to lift her head but there was a ringing in her ears, the darkness was back to obscure her vision. She could feel herself slipping away but she had to see where her friends were. Are they okay? She fought to turn her head, even that small motion was so painful it almost knocked her out. No, Vidi. Vidi was hurt. Where was Vidi, is she okay? She managed to focus her vision on two figures huddled close together by the tree line. Lilah and Vidi. A third figure approached them, covered from head to toe in black, and looked down at the two figures. Eidas tried to call out to them, to warn them of the unknown presence. Had he been on the ship? What it a he? A strange croak left the back of her throat. The cloaked figure looked up, straight at her, and the pain in her head intensified. The darkness once again overtook her vision and the last thing she can remember was that the cold numbness from the ship had returned.
2. This Is Our Campfire Song
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Eidas wakes u.p to have an interesting conversation with her rescuer
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> BOOM! Happy 4th, readers! Here is a second chapter. I hope you all enjoy. XD
Night had fallen by the time Eidas came to. She was on her back, on the cold, hard ground. She was also shivering. She was still in her day clothes, a short-sleeved tunic, and some comfortable hiking pants. Eidas blinked up at the stars, mapping out different constellations that she recognized. She didn’t recognize much, she’d never been to this system before so she supposed that made sense. Slowly, the crash came back to her, her and Lilah getting Vidi to safety, the explosion, the cloaked being, the freezing darkness. It was chilly but there was warmth off to her right. Turning her head in that direction, she saw a fire, it warmed her face. Did Lilah build the fire? She listened carefully for a few seconds, but other than the buzzing of insects and the rustling of small creatures scouring for late night dinner, all was quiet. Eidas winced as she slowly sat up to better survey her surroundings. Lilah and Vidi were nowhere to be seen, but a few feet behind her, their tent was set up, inside she could see a glowrod illuminated, and gentle murmuring could be heard from inside the tent. She was about to call out for Lilah when the glowlight when out. The tent’s zip was undone and a tall, black-robed figure stepped out. He was human, judging by what she could see of the lower half of his face. He had a strong jaw, a thin mouth, the corners of with were twisted slightly downward, and a beak of a nose, that the hood of his cloak sat upon. “Ah, you are awake.” His mouth twisted up in a small but friendly smile. He joined her by the fire, smoothly settling himself next to her. He looked a bit older up close, probably middle-aged, he had a friendly enough voice, low and smooth. “I suspect you’ll be sore, you were the one closest to the ship when the blast went off. You took quite a flight.” | 57f3cef21b2f4faa84ccd5b0ba596b63 | ['f49a2602e683447bb9e54607294ebd3c'] | It seems that in his absence, Anakin had failed to get ahold of his arousal. He wasn’t surprised. The boy often thought more with head between his legs than the one on his shoulders when he wasn’t off world powering his way through this war. It was going to be an interesting night. Anakin had never been good with wooing, Palpatine had often teased him on the subject since their little relationship had begun, and finally, he had a way to teach the boy, and a perfect incentive to get him there. Promising the boy he can do anything he pleased was sure to catch the arrogant Jedi’s attention. But Palpatine didn’t plan to go easy on him, if the boy couldn’t actually convince him, it would be a disappointment, but eventually, he’ll cut Anakin loose.
But, if the boy actually could convince him, Palpatine felt his arousal stirring in his trousers, it would be interesting to see what the boy came up with, success or failure. He watched the tanned chest, gleaming with sweat from Anakin’s failed attempts to escape, twisting on his silk sheets. In truth, the Chosen One was beautiful, in his own dark way. The darker Anakin dances, the more Palpatine finds himself attracted to him. The dark Jedi was still conflicted, that much he knew, but it won’t be long now. Anakin Skywalker will be his, once the Jedi Order breaks him for the final time, Anakin will come to him, begging and broken on his knees, pleading for Palpatine’s guidance and swearing his eternal loyalty.
The Sith watched as the Jedi seemed to finally noticed his presence. He stilled completely, his body going rigid. His eyes locked with Palpatine's, his pupils dilated to a point that the chancellor couldn’t see any hints of blue. Palpatine smirked and crossed his legs in the chair, making a show of getting comfortable. Even going as far as to take a sip of wine. “Oh, don’t stop on my account, Anakin.” Letting his eyes trace over the boy’s exposed torso, before looking back up. “I was quite enjoying the show.” He grinned. Anakin was still completely frozen on the bed. After a full minute of doing nothing but stare at Palpatine, the Jedi finally found his voice.
“You should untie me.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but the lust that wrapped around his words told the Chancellor that his control was just an act. Palpatine’s smile widened and he leaned forward, he could hear the boy’s breath hitch in his throat. He had this brilliant young man completely in his control.
“Now why would I want to do that, my young friend? You should see yourself, writhing and whimpering for me. I should’ve done this to you sooner.” He replied, his eyes challenging the Jedi. Is he going to back down? Palpatine truly hoped not.
“Does it arouse you, sir? Tying me to your bed. Collaring me so I’m completely helpless?”
“You have no idea, my boy.” Palpatine grinned but he stayed in the chair. He could feel Anakin’s need to be touched increase with each second Palpatine denied him.
“How am I supposed to take care of your needs if I’m all tied up?” He grinned arrogantly. Palpatine’s head tilted up a little, looking like the haughty, highborn noble that he was.
“I can assure you, young Anakin, I am in far more control over my needs than you are over yours.” Palpatine’s voice held a slight edge to it, making it sound more authoritative. The effect that it had on Anakin was well worth it, a small whimper left the back of his throat, his hips jerked up a little, his erection strained against his trousers. Palpatine internally winced in rare sympathy, that couldn’t be comfortable. It took several minutes for Anakin to regain enough composure to reply.
“You should still untie me, I could take care of us both.”
“Oh, dear Anakin, I am perfectly fine with watching you squirm. It is quite enjoyable.” Palpatine smirked at the small huff his young lover gave. Anakin’s lust was starting to get the better of him, it wouldn’t be long until he trips up and Palpatine would leave him again. So far Anakin has been dancing around the game, simply talking and not actually playing, dancing the line between the boundaries Palpatine had set him. “Unless of course, you would like to try to actually convince me to untie you. That is, after all, what you’re supposed to be doing.” Anakin swallowed compulsively and nodded, but he didn’t say anything. Palpatine paused and gave the boy a mocking glare of disapproval. “You did not prepare for my return like I asked, did you?”
“No, sir. But if you untie me, I’ll prepare you for my return.” Anakin’s grin was full force. Palpatine chuckled and shook his head.
“Is that your so-called try for seduction this time around?”
“NO!” Anakin pulled against the restraints, struggling to sit up.
“Relax. You’re not getting free. The sooner you accept that the sooner you’ll focus on the actual game we’re playing.” Palpatine took another sip of wine before adding, “You started off quite well.” He complements. If the boy could stay in control of himself long enough to convince Palpatine to untie him- No. Anakin always chooses to learn the hard way. Palpatine will wait him out until the Jedi learns. Anakin is silent until his breathing has somewhat evened out again.
“At least come over here.” Palpatine raised an eyebrow but did not move from his position. “Just-” Anakin squirmed, struggling to keep his thoughts together. “I need - plea- Just, it hurts.” Palpatine looked at him in confusion. The bindings weren’t right enough to hurt him.
“What’s hurting you Anakin?”
“My- my pants! They’re too tight. I can’t- they need to come off!” Anakin whimpered, his hips shifted about on the bed. “Palpatine, please!” Palpatine watched his young lover. |
4767202d65bc45149d1ec92ff0b66c69 | ['f49b480fd5d04e07af9594639a0d7a85'] | Slowly the tense atmosphere faded and the younger android scoffed. One touch from an omega and the alpha melted. A frowned graced the RK900's features. He was once again feeling happy he wasn't like a human alpha. Bound by his body. He was too superior to let such things happen. Not that they would. He was programmed to be in control at all times. Omegas are one of the many things that would control other alphas, even android ones, but not him.
Perkins nodded and backed away a bit before snatching a remote off the desk in front of him. He pointed it at the screen in the front of the room. Two female pictures appeared side by side. Both young, blonde and very familiar.
"The Hanson sisters," Perkins says motioning to the screen. "Missing for roughly three months. Melody and Teresa Hanson were reported missing by their younger sister Betty. Both girls are in their early twenties and have very busy social lives. " Perkins said using his hands to make quotation marks at the words "social lives", "Their parents are the owners of four wineries and seven banks. Their father is also a big time lawyer. After all this time with not even a peep from them we can assume the worse. We have a suspect in mind and we need your help to get him."
The Rk900 frowned, "The Hanson sisters have quite the reputation. They roam the streets with random alphas, party, drink, numerous drug charges that have seemed to drop through the cracks. These two omegas have many suitors that could be a possible suspect and you say you have only one?"
Hank crossed his arms frowning, "And why do you need our help? Just go bring the bastard in and make him break down. If he is rich he probably thinks he can throw money at it."
Perkins rolled his eyes at them both before sighing, "I need a man on the inside that can blend into the crowd." he motioned to the RK900, "Connor is too recognizable, but would be a good choice for helping out behind the scenes and of course we can't use the omega with his alpha being present."
Conner stayed quiet though the look on his face suggested he wanted to speak up. It would seem after he obtained his rights to be considered a living being he lost a bunch as well. He wasn't allowed to do much without Hank being present. This was apparently one of those times.
When the silence stretched the RK900 spoke up, "Who is your suspect?"
Perkins clicked the remote in his hands and another very familiar face popped up. "Gavin Reed," Perkins states motioning back to the board. The picture is one from a magazine. The omega in his trademark leather jacket was walking down the street, black shades on his face. A middle finger extended obviously to the photographer across the street taking this photo. "This little shit is Elijah Kamski's younger brother. Which means unless we get him to confess or slip up very badly, he is untouchable. Elijah has been known to be very protective of his younger sibling. He even has claim to him. "
Everyone in the room shares a surprised look. To claim an omega would be to have complete control over their lives. Usually this role was for the father of the omega and then given to whatever mate the father deemed okay. Now a days omegas were rarely claimed. The omega rights organizations often fought to have the claims lifted. It was considered unfair for alphas to have complete control over who omegas were to be with. A claimed omega was very rare in present times. For an elder sibling to legally get the rights to claim meant he was very serious about protecting the omega. The billionaire had went as far as getting a claim and basically making it illegal for any alpha to sleep with his younger brother. Elijah Kamski was very very smart and wealthy and therefore Gavin Reed was untouchable. Perkins was right. They would need a confession.
Conner looked at the photo a few seconds longer before looking at Perkins, "Why do you believe he is a suspect?"
"He and the sisters are often seen together. It's no secret they are all close. We've got several statements from people who knew them. They went around partying and even called themselves the Bitch Squad. Witness statements also put Gavin Reed with each sister the day before they vanished."
The Rk900 mulled over the information in his head, "And what is the motive? What would he gain from each sister vanishing?"
Perkins clicks the remote again and another picture of Reed pops up. He is at the beach with the sisters. Each sister is in the picture an alpha on each arm. They're giggling and using their one free hand to sips their drinks. Gavin is with them but off to the side. He looks more focused on his tropical drink more than the alphas around them. The Rk900 notices bright red the swim trunks he is wearing hug his hips perfectly and wonderfully contrast with the dark tone of his skin. The trunks seem to be wet, the weight of them pulling and showing more skin on his hips than would be proper for any omega to show. The Rk900 bites his bottom lip at the sight. He then blinks.
_...What?,_
He shakes off the strange reaction and continues to try and listen to Perkins's rambling.
"Motive is simple."Perkins shrugs, "They were in the way. It is obvious the girls always ruin his chances for a potential fling and mate." he motions to the picture, "Gavin Reed is a very scarred and flawed omega. He was obviously looked over every time the girls were present." | 81573489ca674464b36a6fbf1b800368 | ['f49b480fd5d04e07af9594639a0d7a85'] | "Oh Davis!" Elijah says raising his voice to be heard. The android practically sprints to his side. "Would you be nice enough to show Gavin to the dessert table? He has a sweet tooth and I am sure he would love your company."
The glare the omega shoots his brother is murderous. Davis either doesn't see the look or doesn't care. The androids eyes are soft as he looks at Gavin and offers his hand, "Shall we?"
Gavin frown deepens, but like a good brother he doesn't make a scene. He takes the androids hand and quietly lets himself be walked over to the dessert table. Elijah then takes a moment to look over at Richard. The two make eye contact and hold it. It starts to turn into a game of chicken. It's ridiculous and he can't help but think that weeks ago he wouldn't even entertained the idea of doing something so...so _alpha_. He's letting his alpha _instincts_ take over and is just rolling with what he is feeling. It's a tense feeling that washes over him.
Who will look away first?
He finally decides he really shouldn't piss off the man that could easily have him kicked out so he looks down. It's a sign of submission. He's letting this alpha win.
Elijah is content with the androids reaction and walks away. Richard goes back to 'working' and tries not to let his anger and humiliation effect his job. As a way to spite Elijah and calm himself he sneaks glances at the omega.
Gavin is putting on a good show. He's smiling and nodding as Davis goes on and on about himself. Richard is quite proud of himself for keeping his cool. Everything about Davis makes him want to rush over and tear the other androids grabby hands off of Gavin, but he doesn't. He plays the part of waiter and goes about his business and the hours pass by. The actual meeting is just starting to take place and those who don't have the pleasure of negotiating business sit in the lounge drinking and eating food. And by those who don't have the pleasure of negotiating business he means the omegas. Gavin had tried to follow his brother in, only to have Davis laugh at him and pat his head.
"Oh my dear, you're hilarious, but we have to talk serious business. Just be patient and we will be right back."
Gavin looks every bit as offended as he can. Richard wants to say something. He wants to get in Davis's face and tell him not to even think about talking to him in such a way ever again, but he can't. Gavin isn't his omega and he has no right. So he stands there holding a tray of glasses, looking like a helpless fool.
Thankfully Elijah is having none of Davis's attitude, "Please do not patronize my brother."
Davis's smile falters for the first time that evening. The android doesn't seem to like that he has upset Elijah. He quickly tries to redeem himself, "I am sorry. It was never my intention to do so, " Richard has to roll his eyes at that, "It's just so boring and technical. I did not want to put him through that."
"I'm sure." he looks over at his brother, "Gavin, do you want to come?"
Gavin shakes his head, "Nah, you two go have fun."
Elijah smiles a bit, "Oh yes, loads of fun." he pats his brothers shoulder and enters the room, Davis following close at his heels.
Afterwards the omegas gather in a corner of the lounge, drinking and having fun. With no one around it's like they can finally be themselves. It's fun to watch and finally gauge their personalities. The ones that kept their heads down the most seem to actually be the loudest and most interesting to watch. Others just look relieved to have the alphas gone. Their postures go from stiff and perfect to relaxed and calm as they sip their drinks.
Gavin is the only omega who has stayed the same throughout the entire evening. He is currently in the center laughing away and telling a story. It's a story from his childhood and it's interesting enough to keep all the omegas attention. Richard is more interested in how animated the omega is when he's happy. His hands are everywhere as are his facial expressions. It is very endearing and hypnotizing to watch. The alpha just gets lost when watching this omega and before he knows it he is openly staring.
The show comes in an end when a blond omega leans over to whisper something in Gavin's ear. Gavin freezes and looks directly at the alpha watching from across the room. Richards face heats up, no doubt it's probably a brilliant blue right now. He looks away pretending to work. The omegas all laugh at the Richard's reaction to being spotted. Their laughter seems to make his face heat more.
Gavin ignores them and stands up,making his way over to him.
"Hey there stranger."
"Stranger?" he asks, turning to talk to him, "What happened to my nicknames?"
"Your nicknames?"
"Tin-man and Richie."
"You like when I call you Richie?"
"Yes. You are the only one that does so. I like it quite a bit."
Gavin leans in close, "Is there anything about me you _don't_ like?"
"Oh yes actually there is."
"What the fuck is it?"
"I don't like it when you close yourself off to me."
The omega frowns, "Well that was unexpected."
"Sorry, I just...I know by looking at you something is wrong and I feel helpless. I want to be there for you and you make it so hard."
"That's what she said."
Richard blinks.
Gavin sighs, " _You make it so hard_...that's what...Oh fucking never mind. You don't get it. Look, I don't know you THAT well. Why would I open up about everything going on in my life to you?" |
bfb91268ae2c415188cc63ba5224f534 | ['f49cb848b7d047b681dc1bd16c7c9fe9'] | Naruto slipped out the door as quickly and quietly as possible. He glanced down at the list in his hand. 'He sure seems to know a lot about this kinda thing...'
Izumo heard it all, but could not muster the will to move. He was exhausted and the pain was starting to settle into his lower back, hips, and of course his ass. 'Not his fault Ko,' He thought at his friend. 'I wanted it too.'
He smiled though. Kotetsu cared about him so much. He'd even taken care of him when one of his asshole fuck buddies had overdone it and left him lying in pain on the living room floor.
'That's a real friend. Someone like that is... priceless,' With that thought he drifted off to sleep gratefully. At least the pain wasn't so bad he couldn't sleep.
\---
Ko woke up slightly less grumpy than he’d been when he had sent the kid off to the store. He stepped out his bedroom door which led directly into the kitchen. He put a small pot of water on the hot plate and glared at it as if daring it to take too long.
A giggle from the direction of the couch drew his attention. He approached cautiously a little afraid of just who was giggling and why. As he peeked over the back, he saw Zu and Kyu cuddled together under a blanket. Thankfully, they were both dressed.
Kyu was holding Zu against his chest and running his fingers through the brunette’s dark silky hair. Ko knew how soft those dark strands where. He had been the one to wash Ko’s hair after the brunette had a bad reaction to henna tattoos he’d gotten on his hands.
“Love that Kyu. You can do that all day,” Zu murmured softly against the blond’s chest.
“You feeling better?” Kyu asked softly.
“Uh huh.”
“Good, I thought I’d really fucked it all up. I hadn’t known that it would hurt so much.”
“Oh, you will,” Izumo teased softly. “I’ll get my payback out of your hot little ass later.”
Kyuubi flushed. “Hope I’m not as big a disappointment as a bottom as I am as a top.”
Izumo looked up at him. “Kyu, I wouldn’t normally suggest this, but I just don’t think I wanna share you with anybody else,” The blue eyes looked adorably clueless. “I don’t want you to go out with anyone but me, okay?” The azure pools were as round as plates.
“You serious? You want to be exclusive? With me?” The shaggy blond head tilted to one side. “Why?”
Izumo chuckled. “Who else is gonna teach you everything you need to know?”
Ko coughed as he choked. He had never really known Izumo to be exclusive with anyone in their entire history together and they’d been friends since grade school. The two other men looked up at him in surprise. Zu looked up at his best friend and smiled. “Go easy on him. He did everything you said,” He ruffled Kyu’s shaggy hair. “He’s been a good boy.”
“So you heard,” Kotetsu commented. “Thought you might,” He turned and headed back to the kitchen. “Anybody want tea?” He was still a little thrown off by the concept of Zu in an exclusive relationship. ‘It’s pretty fast too,’ If he’d said he wasn’t worried, he’d be a liar.
Naruto looked at Zu. “Why do I feel like he’s still pissed?” He whispered to his new lover.
“That’s ‘cause he is,” Kyuubi looked worried. “He’s just worried I won’t be able to play tonight, but really I feel loads better.”
Kyu blushed guiltily. “Gomen...” He apologized for the hundredth time.
“Stop that shit. I wanted it too. We just need to make sure it doesn’t affect the performance and Ko will get over it quick.”
“What am I getting over?” The dark headed man asked as he set two mugs on the coffee table. They hadn’t answered him, but he’d gotten them tea anyway.
Zu frowned at his friend. “You’re being polite yet pissy, nice mix.”
Kotetsu smiled evilly. “And what my dear friend am I gonna get over so quickly?” His tone was dripping in sarcastic malice.
Zu rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna say it. I’m not sorry. So if that’s what you’re waiting for, kiss my ass.”
“Oh, you haven’t taught the virgin that one yet eh?” Ko asked almost pleasantly. Kyu went white, then scarlet. The kid’s discomfort was a little too enjoyable for Kotetsu, it made him edgy. He turned to the other source of his irritation. Zu was lying on the brat’s chest with his eyes closed and his mouth in a thin line of growing anger. Zu was famous for his temper.
“Ko, you got something you wanna say or not?”
“Oh, I think I’ve said it all, last night, this morning, last week. Not like anybody ever listens to me any fucking way,” He looked Zu up and down where he lay. “You planning on playing from that position? Would definitely be new…”
“I can stand,” Zu growled low in the back of his throat.
“Huh…” Was the only answer he got.
“Would a stool or something help?” Naruto asked trying to help. “You know, if standing is a problem…” His voice trailed off at the almost horrified Izumo made. Kotetsu’s look plainly called him a ‘fucking moron’. “What?!”
Kotetsu shook his head and stood up. “Good luck training this one Zu. I don’t envy you.” He headed for the bathroom. “I’m gonna shower, unless you two need in there. Oh and Zu,” He turned to look at his best friend. “I’m not pissed anymore. Think you might of bit off more than you can chew here. Can’t think of a better punishment than watching you explain ‘everything’ to this one.” | 80f5a9334f074e7195474ff861993820 | ['f49cb848b7d047b681dc1bd16c7c9fe9'] | Naruto looked away. ‘Why do I feel bad? He already said if it hadn’t of been on his turf, he never would have bothered to save me. He did save me and he is going to find out who I am. What do I really have to lose by telling him?’ “My name is Uzumaki, Naruto.”
“Why did you use the name Hatake?”
Well that wasn’t exactly how he’d expected this to play out. “I know a guy with that last name.”
“What is his first name Naruto?” Neji asked as he sat back a little more comfortably, at least he was making some progress.
“Pervert,” Naruto spouted off while grinning. Neji almost spewed tea out his nose. Shikamaru walked in unannounced at that exact moment.
“Well he is, but I hadn’t thought you two would have progressed that far this fast.”
Neji set his cup down carefully. “He didn’t mean me Baka!”
Shikamaru smirked. “Oh, sorry.”
Naruto looked at them both as if they’d grown horns and developed purple spots.
“So, who’s the ‘pervert’?” Shika asked amiably as he took a seat near Neji. Neji shot him a vile look. His smile only deepened.
“Kakashi, that’s his name, but Pervert suits him better.”
Shikamaru started chuckling and couldn’t stop for a bit. Neji watched his friend, because he wasn’t sure he could look at Naruto without laughing as well. His composure was salvaged when the intercom beeped and he stepped out of the room to answer it.
There was the sound of raised voices in the other room. Shikamaru stood up. There was a hard look on his face. Naruto was very surprised to see that this man was someone to be feared as well. Shikamaru was standing between the blond and the door. It took everything he had not to go to Neji’s side. He had to trust that whoever it was Neji could handle them. The security guards and the other devices and safeguards should have stopped any trouble makers and Shika was already making a list of things to check and improve upon after this was over.
Neji opened the door a few minutes after the shouting stopped. The relief on Shikamaru’s face made him smile. “We have company.”
“Really? Who?”
Neji smiled at Naruto with a slight twinkle in his eyes. “A pervert and a friend.”
2. Wake Me When It's Over
_Neji opened the door a few minutes after the shouting stopped. The relief on Shikamaru’s face made him smile. “We have company.”_
_“Really? Who?”_
_Neji smiled at Naruto with a slight twinkle in his eyes. “A pervert and a friend.”_
Naruto bit his lip and flushed.
When Kakashi entered the room with Kiba in tow. Naruto’s eyes about popped out of his head.
“Oh crap, your mom really did sell you to the old pervert like she said she would!” Kakashi blinked at him and Kiba’s mouth fell open.
Naruto glared at Neji. “If this is some sicko skin-trade thing, count me out. I’d rather let the Uchiha kill me!”
“Did they kick him in the head or something? Is it brain damage?” Kiba blurted.
“No, he was always this thick,” Kakashi commented idly.
“You moron! Why didn’t you just sleep with that cow and call it a day?!” Kiba stalked right past Shikamaru and pulled Naruto into a bear hug.
“I’d rather sleep with Kakashi,” Naruto growled. Kiba stepped back and then they both looked at the grinning pervert. “Don’t get any ideas old man,” Naruto said sternly. Kakashi grinned wider.
“So you do know each other,” Shikamaru smirked at Kakashi.
“And well it would seem...” Neji added in an amused tone.
“I know his adoptive father so to speak.”
“Not as well as he’d like,” Kiba chuckled. “Iruka keeps him at arms length and then some.”
Naruto smacked Kiba upside the head and gave Neji a very serious look. “Just leave him out of it. Whatever it takes… just leave him out of it.”
"That will not be possible," Neji intoned in a cold and dispassionate voice. He was a little offended. 'Just what does he take me for. I saved him. It is true that I wouldn't have under other circumstances, but I am responsible for him now.'
Naruto's face crumpled. "He's all I have. Please. I'll do anything..." His eyes fell to the floor and his face lost all its color.
"He's gonna blow," Shikamaru's warning was followed by Naruto vomiting on Kiba's shoes then passing out.
\---
Iruka's hands on his face always felt so good when he was sick. "Iruka... I had the worst nightmare..." Shikamaru looked up from his laptop. The older man was still sitting on the edge of the bed. The blond apparently wasn't coherent yet. Considering what he'd just said and how deeply he'd cut Neji earlier, Shika was disinclined to rouse his friend until the little shit was awake and acting rationally.
"Naruto, can you wake up a little? You need to drink something." The blue eyes were hazy, but he sat up just enough to drink before laying back down. "You had me worried," Iruka whispered.
"They told me you'd been beaten up and had passed out. I couldn't stop shaking the whole way here."
Naruto bolted up and almost passed out again. He grabbed Iruka's arms. "No. You can't be here. You have to be safe."
They hadn't heard the door open. "There's no place safer Baka. The Uchiha's want you dead. Neji is the only one who can hold them back. Show a little appreciation. He didn't have to take interest in a brat like you at all." Kakashi was standing in the doorway. Somehow he didn't seem like the Kakashi Naruto had known for so long.
"He only saved me because of where I was at the time. It's about turf, not me." Shika had heard enough. Neji would sleep peacefully through the night without ever knowing this idiot had woken up. |
3b6049a9fc6048c6aea510e8052c3f1f | ['f4a2f20ee2ea4cc2808dce7ce98385b3'] | KARKAT: "HEY, THESE TWO ARE ENGAGING IN ILLICIT HATESNOGS, BUT THEY HAVE SUCH A GREAT RIVALRY. I KNOW, LET'S MAKE THEM SHARE A BODY!"
TEREZI: 1 4M *L1T3R4LLY* GO1NG TO
KARKAT: TOO BAD WE'RE MORE LIKELY NOW TO BE CAUGHT IN THE ABLUTION BLOCK THAN WE WERE BEFORE.
TEREZI: 44441333!!!
> *bonk* *bonk* *bonk* *bonk* *bonk* *bonk* *bonk* *bonk* *bonk*
TEREZI: DO YOU 3V3R!
TEREZI: STOP!
TEREZI: T4LK1NG!!!
KARKAT: OW OW OW! MY HEAD! OW!
TEREZI: TH1S 1S WHY W3 C4N'T HOLD N1C3 JOBS!!!
KARKAT: GODDAMMIT, STOP THAT ALREADY! OW! FUCKING OW
KARKAT: WILL YOU QUIT THIS BULLSHIT, THIS IS RIDICULOUS
KARKAT: OW, OW, OKAY, OKAY, I'M SORRY, JUST LAY OFF!
KANAYA: Is This Some Kind Of Bizarre Ashen Solicitation
TEREZI: C3RT41NLY NOT, 1 H4V3 3V3RYTH1NG UND3R CONTROL 4S YOU C4N S33
TEREZI: 4LSO, OW
KARKAT: HA HA HA.
KANAYA: Please Pardon Me For Expressing My Sincere Doubts On That Matter
KARKAT: SORRY, I HAVE TO CULL THIS ONE IN THE NUB.
KARKAT: CONSENSUAL HATING AMONG EQUALS IS ONE THING, AND DISCLOSING SUCH HATRED IS NECESSARY TO AVOID CONFLICTS OF INTEREST.
KARKAT: BUT DRAGGING SUBORDINATES INTO LURID CALIGINOUS ENTANGLEMENTS IS COMPLETELY UNPROFESSIONAL, AND ALSO A RECIPE FOR DRAMA.
KARKAT: WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF WE STARTED VACILLATING?! UNACCEPTABLE.
TEREZI: FOR ONC3 1T S33MS W3 4CTU4LLY 4GR33 ON SOM3TH1NG
TEREZI: W3'D G3T COURTBLOCK-M4RT14L3D FOR SUR3 1F TH3Y C4UGHT US 4T TH4T
KANAYA: I Concur It Would Be For The Best
KANAYA: So If I Do Stop You From Killing Each Other After All
KANAYA: Please Understand I Mean To Do So Only Platonically
TEREZI: 4GR33D
KARKAT: DEAL.
KARKAT: LET US NEVER SPEAK OF THIS AGAIN.
TEREZI: Y34H
KANAYA: Im Not Sure I Can Make That Promise In Good Conscience
KANAYA: But By All Means Lets Change The Subject For The Time Being
2. Terezi: Flip.
> Days in the future, but not many...
**Scene:** the break room of the _Battleterror._
TEREZI: 4ND TH4T'S TH3 L4ST OF TH3M
TEREZI: ON3, TWO, THR33, FOUR
KANAYA: And The Bronzeblood
TEREZI: WHO?
KANAYA: Kaness Minora By The Charge List
KANAYA: The One Suspected Of Carving Seditious Literature And Lewd Political Cartoons Into The Walls Of Deck 7 Foodblock B With The Business End Of A Cuticle Pick
TEREZI: OH Y3S, 1 FORGOT 4BOUT H1M
TEREZI: WH4T 4N 1NS4N3 CH4RG3, YOU C4N'T M4K3 TH1S STUFF UP
TEREZI: W3LL, TH4T M4K3S F1V3
TEREZI: GOD, WH4T 4 LONG N1GHT
KANAYA: All Done And Accounted For
KANAYA: Ill File The Affidavits With The Rest
TEREZI: M4K3 SUR3 TH3Y'R3 L3G1BL3
KANAYA: That Has Been Less Of A Problem Since I Changed Writing Implements
KANAYA: And The Brand Of Foliated Literary Substrate For That Matter
KANAYA: And Started Reading Them Aloud To You Instead Of Letting You Check
TEREZI: H3H3, 1ND33D
TEREZI: TH1S ST4ND4RD 1SSU3 P4P3R G3TS SO SOGGY
KANAYA: I Confess I Dont Know Many Blind Trolls
KANAYA: Most Probably Get Culled Soon After Their Condition Is Discovered
KANAYA: But I Thought I Might Have At Least Heard Of Tasting Letters Before
TEREZI: W3LL, 1T'S MY OWN SYST3M
TEREZI: 4S YOU S4Y, MOST BL1ND TROLLS DON'T L4ST LONG
TEREZI: BUT 1 H4V3 FOUND W4YS TO FULF1LL MY DUT13S N3V3RTH3L3SS
TEREZI: SO TH3R3 1S NOBODY TO T3LL M3 1'M DO1NG 1T WRONG!
KANAYA: Indeed
KANAYA: Well
KANAYA: About That
TEREZI: HM?
======>
KANAYA: Co-Corporal Vantas Has Been Unusually Quiet
TEREZI: (shhh!)
TEREZI: (you'll w4k3 h1m up)
TEREZI: (just k33p 1t down 4nd don't c4ll h1m by n4m3)
KANAYA: (Wait)
KANAYA: (Hes Asleep On The Job)
TEREZI: W3'R3 ON SL1GHTLY D1FF3R3NT CYCL3S
TEREZI: 1 1NS1ST TH4T H3 ST4Y FULLY 4L3RT ON OUR ROUNDS
TEREZI: BUT TH3 PROC3DUR4L STUFF 4T TH3 3ND PUTS H1M DOWN FOR TH3 COUNT
TEREZI: 1 TH1NK C4FF31N3 4FF3CTS H1M SL1GHTLY D1FF3R3NTLY
KANAYA: I Find That Surprising And Mildly Implausible
KANAYA: Since After All
KANAYA: Youre Both Inhabiting The Same Body
KANAYA: How Could His Stimulant Metabolism Be That Different From Yours
TEREZI: 1'M 4 L3G1SL4C3R4TOR, NOT 4 M3D1C4L PROF3SS1ON4L
TEREZI: 4ND TH3R3 4R3 M4NY UN3XP3CT3D TH1NGS 4BOUT BODYSH4R1NG FOR WH1CH 1 F33L 1 W4S NOT 4D3QU4T3LY PR3P4R3D BY TH3 1N1T14L BR13F1NG
TEREZI: BUT 1 TRY NOT TO LOS3 SL33P OV3R 1T
TEREZI: B3TW33N YOU 4ND M3, 1'M TH4NKFUL FOR SOM3 T1M3 TO MYS3LF
KANAYA: I Can Imagine
======>
KANAYA: So
KANAYA: Like
KANAYA: What Kinds Of Unexpected Things
TEREZI: W3LL
TEREZI: SL33P SCH3DUL3S, FOR 3X4MPL3
TEREZI: 1 F33L 4 B1T DULL R1GHT NOW, NOT 4T MY SH4RP3ST
TEREZI: BUT OTH3RW1S3 1 C4N H4NDL3 MOST COGN1T1V3 T4SKS
TEREZI: 4LMOST 4S 1F 1 H4D THR33 QU4RT3RS OF 4 TH1NK P4N
KANAYA: Hmmm
TEREZI: OUR MOTOR SK1LLS 4ND PROPR1OC3PT1ON S33M TO B3 SH4R3D R3DUND4NTLY
TEREZI: SO 31TH3R OF US C4N 1N1T14T3 MOV3M3NTS, OR R3M41N 1N TH3 B4CKGROUND
TEREZI: W3'V3 T3NT4T1V3LY 4GR33D NOT TO F1GHT OV3R L1MBS TOO MUCH
TEREZI: F4C14L R3COGN1T1ON, ON TH3 OTH3R H4ND, 1S STR1CTLY S3P4R4T3
TEREZI: 4ND LONG T3RM M3MOR13S 4R3 CONV3N13NTLY COMP4RTM3NT4L1Z3D
TEREZI: 4LMOST TOO CONV3N13NTLY
KANAYA: Do You Both Have Access To The Same Sensory Input
TEREZI: 1T 4PP34RS SO
KANAYA: What I Have Difficulty Believing Is That He Could Fall Asleep While You Are Still Awake Doing Stuff
KANAYA: How Does He Shut Off The Sensory Stimulus
TEREZI: YOU'D H4V3 TO 4SK H1M TH4T
TEREZI: BUT 1 B3T 1T'S L1K3 N4PP1NG W1TH TH3 FL4T SCR33N BRO4DC4ST D1SPL4Y D3V1C3 ON
TEREZI: 1T'S PROB4BLY MOR3 4 D1FF3R3NC3 OF D3GR33 TH4N OF K1ND
KANAYA: What About
KANAYA: Emotions
======>
TEREZI: ...
TEREZI: 1'M NOT 3NT1R3LY SUR3 YOU N33D TO KNOW 4LL TH1S, 3NS1GN
TEREZI: PROV1D1NG 4NSW3RS TO SOM3 OF TH3S3 QU3ST1ONS COULD COM3 UNCOMFORT4BLY CLOS3 TO 4 S3CUR1TY BR34CH
KANAYA: Oh
KANAYA: I Suppose Youre Right
KANAYA: None Of This Is Really Germane To My Function In This Unit
KANAYA: I Should Put These Papers Away And Get Back To My Respiteblock
KANAYA: Its Nearly Midday By The Ship Clock
TEREZI: TRUST M3
TEREZI: YOU D1DN'T R34LLY W4NT TO KNOW 4NYW4Y
KANAYA: No
KANAYA: Certainly Not
TEREZI: W3LL TH3N
TEREZI: D1SM1SS3D
KANAYA: Good Day
======>
TEREZI: ... | 44541c7469e64ce998f0563acd254504 | ['f4a2f20ee2ea4cc2808dce7ce98385b3'] | ROSE: But to be honest, we're all getting somewhat weary of pumpkin pie, pumpkin curry, pumpkin soup, pumpkin chickpea tagine...
ROSE: In the face of an unstemmed onslaught of voidy orange gourds, expiration from malnourishment seems salubrious by comparison.
JADE: hahaha, its probably just because thats all she knows how to cook
ROSE: I will neither confirm nor deny the truth of that proposition.
ROSE: But wait! Good thing we have Jane to bake for us!
ROSE: And so it came to pass that after my seventeenth pumpkin muffin, I threw up my hands in disgust and went to find you.
ROSE: I didn't necessarily think you would have something helpful to say about this predicament in particular.
ROSE: I just wanted to talk to someone I hadn't seen in a while, who might be able to relate to some of my frustration.
ROSE: And it occurred to me that that someone was basically you.
ROSE: You've been pretty scarce around the proverbial campfire lately.
ROSE: Is this what you've been up to for the past few weeks?
==>
JADE: well once i discovered that things werent growing right
JADE: i realized it could become an issue pretty soon!
JADE: so ive been hard at work running experiments
JADE: to get a better idea of what we need to do
JADE: i tried some samples from my seed bank in the basement
JADE: including tomatoes!
ROSE: Wait, what? You actually have one of those?
ROSE: Doesn't that solve the whole biodiversity problem right there?
ROSE: Why are we still having this discussion?
JADE: because those seeds died too!
JADE: they get plenty of sunlight and fresh water
JADE: and i brought some soil from new earth to plant them in
JADE: but they all sort of withered mysteriously away
ROSE: Can't Jane help with that?
JADE: she can help speed up the process
JADE: and in fact i did get her to boost the growth rate a bit
JADE: otherwise i would never have figured even this much out by now
JADE: but the plants still cant grow if they dont have what they need
ROSE: Why don't you just give the seeds to Roxy?
ROSE: This really seems like the sort of thing she ought to be able to handle.
ROSE: She appearified a matriorb out of nothing, to be sure.
JADE: well if you worked with her you might be able to help get the genetic codes into her head
ROSE: A Light/Void motif? Twisted. I like it.
JADE: but the problem is in scaling up production and making it sustainable
JADE: why should roxy make everything by hand all the time?
JADE: it would be much better if we could grow things
JADE: and solving this problem means figuring out why we cant yet
ROSE: Uggghhh. What a conundrum.
ROSE: Egg, meet chicken. Chicken, egg.
ROSE: What else have you tried?
JADE: well, you can see there are plenty of trees here on lofaf
JADE: so i tried putting a few plants in the local soil
JADE: with pretty much the same results
JADE: the local plants didnt do too well in the earth soil either!
ROSE: I guess that's also to be expected.
ROSE: Given that these planets were all originally game constructs in the first place, made material when we imported them into the new universe we currently inhabit.
ROSE: Their main redeeming feature being that they had our old Earth houses on them.
JADE: hahaha yeah!
JADE: but they might come in handy later on anyway
ROSE: All right, what next?
ROSE: Are we any closer to understanding what's really going on?
==>
JADE: well, thinking about what could be different
JADE: our sun looks pretty similar to earths old sun
JADE: so i doubt its a problem with the radiation spectrum
JADE: the details of the soil chemistry could be different
JADE: or the bacteria in the soil, like the ones that beans use to take nitrogen from the atmosphere and turn it into plant stuff
JADE: both the nutrients and the bacteria could have changed a lot on earth after the floods
JADE: either one might be enough to mess up plant growth
JADE: unfortunately i dont have the equipment or the knowledge to look into those in more detail
JADE: my main specialty is physics
JADE: so thats what my lab is set up for!
JADE: gardening has mostly been just a hobby until now
ROSE: Hmmm.
ROSE: And do we have any biologists among us?
JADE: um
JADE: actually
JADE: i dont know?
JADE: ...
ROSE: Neither do I?
JADE: well
JADE: i dont know of anyone with knowledge who can help us out
JADE: john did our ectobiology but hes not great with earth biology
JADE: dave and karkat dont have much expertise there either
JADE: jane and roxy are nice but i dont know them that well
JADE: and the others...
JADE: i still dont really know well at all
JADE: i slept through most of the catch ups and kind of fell behind :(
ROSE: Didn't you talk a lot with Kanaya about frog breeding?
ROSE: She mentioned she helped you out with that at some point.
JADE: oh!
JADE: yeah i guess i did
JADE: she was really helpful and friendly!
ROSE: But I take your point.
ROSE: And this is kind of my point too:
ROSE: That we all seem to have fallen back into our old patterns.
JADE: we have?
==>
ROSE: It's understandable, given what we've been through.
ROSE: After three years of mind-numbing boredom in transit, flanked by two frenetic episodes of largely reactive activity focused on just trying to survive, much less thrive,
ROSE: We've certainly earned ourselves a chance to sit back and not have to worry about existential threats anymore.
ROSE: But I think none of us thought carefully about what we'd find after we finally walked through that door. |
809f165f08664689bfe290db8d2e1977 | ['f4a680d0730b4de294c0e9e7fd64fa2b'] | The man’s head whipped around to face the man at the head of the room, whose gaze hadn’t moved from your face. “Boss.”
“She says she is here to pay. Money is money.” The “boss” gestured for you to approach and you did, signaling Chiyo to wait by the door. When you reached the desk, you took out your wallet. “Who are you to our debtor?” the man asked.
“Her teacher. She says she owes 700,000 yen?”
“That is correct. Interest is due to be applied to the account if it is not paid in full within two days.”
So Chiyo had been right. At least she had kept good track of the interest. “Do you accept debit cards?”
“Of course.”
You passed over your card, briefly brushing hands with the strange man in front of you. His fingers were rough, but surprisingly slender, and he turned the card over a couple times before opening a file and and pausing, as though mulling over something in his head. When he looked up at you, you almost startled.
“500,000 yen. The rest can be paid off with biweekly private English lessons for three months, 1.5 hours per session.” He handed you a business card—with one hand, you noticed, which was usually seen as rude or dismissive. “First lesson will be Friday evening. I’ll let you know the time and location by tomorrow morning.”
Your brow furrowed in confusion and you hesitated. The man seemed dangerous, but if you were meeting in a public place and you didn’t piss him off, there wasn’t much he could do, right? You glanced down at the card, a simple thing that read “Ushijima Kaoru”— _Kaoru,_ you thought. _Oh. Ushi-Kao. Cow Cow._
You found yourself slowly nodding. “Okay, deal.”
* * *
With the debt all but taken care of, Chiyo burst into tears just outside the door of the strange office. “Teacher is too generous.”
As you leaned in to comfort her as her sobs quieted, you heard two voices coming from the inside:
“Boss, what the hell was that?! You never show mercy when it comes to paying debts. Are you getting soft on us?!”
“Of course not. Private English lessons with native speakers are expensive. I’m getting my money’s worth.”
2. I'll Teach You a Lesson
The text came like clockwork at 8 a.m. the next day: _Chatime Ikebukuro. 5:30 p.m. -U._ You weren’t sure if you were meant to respond, but you sent a thumbs up, just to confirm receipt. Last thing you wanted was any of those guys coming down in person to make sure you got the message.
The rest of the week was a bit of a struggle as your upcoming “date with death” weighed on your mind. You were distracted, and you knew your students could tell, although no one actually said anything. Chiyo even looked a bit guilty as she watched you scramble through your lesson plan on Wednesday afternoon.
* * *
When you arrived at the cafe, Ushijima was sitting in a chic leather chair by the window, legs splayed and phone in hand. Sunlight gleamed off his signature silver earrings, and his chain hung boldly over his chest. He wore a plain white shirt with black sweats and a black windbreaker. He donned a slightly different pair of glasses—round, tinted lenses set in a simple frame. His facial expression hadn’t changed since last time you saw him. You were beginning to doubt it ever changed at all.
He looked so incredibly model-like, his smooth skin and almond-shaped eyes glowing in the light. So much so, in fact, that you almost forgot who he was and why you were there. You sucked in a breath and walked towards him.
After a moment, he took notice of you, stood up and bowed.
“I will order for _sensei_.”
You couldn’t help but bite back a laugh at his thick accent and slight awkwardness. You assumed he meant “pay”, but…
“Oh really? Thank you! I’ll have a large ta—”
“I will order.”
You were a bit taken aback, but there was that look again. You held his gaze for just a moment before he turned and strode off to the counter.
He returned five minutes later and passed you a colorful drink with a gradient of purple hues and a type of boba you had never seen before. You sipped and the familiar taste of taro coated your tongue, but there was also a floral—jasmine-y?—undertone. The boba weren’t flavored themselves, but held the flavor of the drink perfectly. “This is amazing. Oh my gosh.”
From the corner of your eye, you could have sworn you saw him smirk. He took his seat across from you with a drink even more obnoxiously-colored than your own and a mug of what looked like black coffee.
“You are an interesting man, Mr. Ushijima.”
He ignored you and sucked intently at the colorful drink before leaning back with a refreshed sigh. “Did you plan a lesson for me?”
“Actually, since you seem to know a lot of English already, I want to start off with a diagnostic test.” This earned you a raised eyebrow, so you spoke again, more slowly. “A test to figure out how much you already know and what you still need to learn. I will give you this session for free because I won’t actually be teaching you. It will just help me know what kind of lessons I should plan in the future.”
Ushijima nodded. “So you will score the test and use it to plan lessons.”
“Exactly! We will start with multiple choice, then do short-answer, and then you will write a short essay. For the reading section, circle the words you don’t know.”
“I understand.”
* * * | 76bfb5b87a28456aa8e1dcb0c4d68d4d | ['f4a680d0730b4de294c0e9e7fd64fa2b'] | You could sense how guarded Ushijima was for the duration of the conversation, but it was still good fun. He told you about his favorite TV shows and manga, his favorite foods, his “friends”, what he does in his “free time”—he apparently had a special affinity for ketchup and vintage arcades. He seemed equally interested in you, but he very well might have been asking so many questions just for the sake of practicing English. He asked if you had friends or a boyfriend in Japan, and when you said no, he shot you a curious look.
The food arrived and wasn’t quite as delicious as you had expected, although Ushijima seemed to disagree. YOu could see that he hadn’t been exaggerating his love for ketchup, and he even ordered a second plate of Spanish omelette that he insisted you try. It was much better than what you had ordered, so he offered to split it with you.
After you had both eaten your fill, Ushijima nodded toward the reading comprehension handouts.
“I can work on those now if you want.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
He blinked. “You are the teacher, no? _Oshiete kudasai._ ”
“Go for it, then. We’ll warm up with a couple of short nonfiction passages, and then we’ll work on a short story.”
Ushijima did much better on the passages this time around. You wondered vaguely if he found your presence motivating—as a teacher, of course, nothing else.
The end of the session neared.
“Okay, so for homework I want you to read this poem and write a one-page response to it. You should also study the words on this list.”
The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Homework, _sensei_? Really?”
“Are you too good for homework?” you teased.
“Of course not. I look forward to our next lesson.”
“See you soon, Mr. Ushijima.” |
a3b80a924b5b418da8cb01daedff2eb7 | ['f4ad176a1d88493aa9a7d28efc1671b7'] | As Gyllir flew through the clouds and into another dimension of their worlds, entering a portal only accessible by someone with God powers, she sighed a heavy sigh. It was the same mundane routine of procuring the best warriors who were worthy of Valhalla. A willing determination or strength that made one man stand out above the rest. Kyriana and Gyllir landed on a nearby cliffside. She dismounted him and rubbed his mane, nuzzling his neck as he snorted and shook his head. He was a pegasus gifted to her from Odin when she was five and ever since then, he was her best friend and companion. "Stay here." She whispered, cloaking him and herself before using her powers to transport herself to the battle taking place in a nearby field. The open field was surrounded by trees and large boulders. Men were using large swords and swiping them with great ease as their opponents dodged their strikes. A few were not so lucky as their flesh was ripped open and crimson liquid sprayed the victor. A rebel yell of triumph came from the brute man as he spun around to take out another enemy. He wielded his sword like it was a stick, but gracefully as well. Kyriana watched him fight, seeing his darkened aura that told him he enjoyed the act of taking a life and craved more blood. Men like that she left for Freyja's army of bloodthirsty devils. She looked for honorable men, much to her sisters' dismay. They never cared about auras, only muscle, and strong will. Pleasing Odin was their utmost duty and nothing pleased Odin like a warrior who could maim and kill for sport. That made the best entertainment.
Something caught her eye to the left as she watched a man with a simple bow and arrow and how he shot every target with quickness, stealth, and precision. He was talented in archery as each of the arrows he shot landed in an eye or heart. Men dropped to their knees as he defeated them, but he never cheered or celebrated. She could sense his angst and anger. He was there for revenge. Watching the colors of his aura, she was intrigued and very much drawn to him. The brute with the sword spun around as he noticed some of his men dropping to their death and met the eyes of the man with the bow. As many other men left standing continued to fight their own battles, she watched on as they came head to head. The brute swung his sword as he yelled loudly and ran forward. The archer easily moved at the last minute and spun, crouching low enough to brace himself. He was a swift fighter, clever, too. The brute growled angrily and tightened his grip on his sword. He rushed forward again and the archer stayed in his crouched position. As the brute grew closer, Kyriana watched as the archer quickly jabbed an arrow into his shoulder, barely missing important arteries and his neck. The brute yelled out in pain but it only made him angrier and stronger as he turned to face the archer who had an arrow awaiting his fire. The brute yanked the arrow free from his shoulder as if it were a mere splinter in his finger, ignoring the blood seeping from the wound. When the archer fired, the brute blocked his arrow with the forearm shield and continued forward. He quickly fired more arrows but the brute was able to block or avoid them. Archery was much better from farther distances with an unsuspecting victim, as she was certain this man was learning.
As the brute drew near the archer, she wanted to protect him but it was against the rules and forbidden to engage in human affairs. Instead, all she could do was watch. Finally, the brute was close enough to the archer and towered him by at least three feet. The brute grabbed him by the tunic shirt and lifted him up off of the ground. He spoke in a rough voice, "Ye die noo." His meaty fist slammed into the nose of the archer, blood quickly gushing out. Throwing him to the ground, the brute smirked with satisfaction.
"Ye killed 'er, ye dobber!" The archer yelled out, his voice full of pain. She could tell it wasn't because of the physical pain but an emotional pain. This battle on the fields of Aberdeen, on the coast of Scotland, had been one bubbling for years between two fighting clans. As she used her powers to reach out and read the archer's memories, she saw it all play out. A woman, long blonde hair that cascaded far down her back as she smiled brightly at the archer. It was a spring day when the rival army came upon them and taunted them both, knowing him as a soldier from the opposing side. The brute man smirked as he used his sword to press against the woman's throat, threatening her life unless she came willingly. She spat in his face and he sliced her throat open with ease, letting her fall to the Earth without a care. The archer's painful bellow echoed in her mind as she came back to the present and watched the scene unfold.
The archer used the last of his energy and the arrow he held tightly in his palm to stab straight through the man's eye. He released the archer and Kyriana's brows went up in shock. The brute yelled out in pain but took his sword and jabbed it up and into the ribs of the archer, piercing his heart instantly. His face fell and his body slumped against the sword, the light in his eyes slowly fading. Although she could not be seen nor heard, the archer stared straight at her as if he were seeing her. She wanted to go to him and save him from this pain. Swallowing thickly, she waited. The brute then fell to the ground beside him from the loss of blood and the arrow piercing his brain.
The archer reached out towards Kyriana, "Madame, please tak' me haem." She looked behind her and realized he was, in fact, talking to her.
"You can see me?" She couldn't help herself as she approached his weak body, looking at the hand he offered her. Against all of her reason, she took his hand to soothe him and felt a spark of a thousand bolts run through her body. She gasped and met his eyes as he sputtered blood from his mouth and fell to the ground, his life leaving his body as he died. His soul left him and took in the sight of his corpse.
"Are you a warrior?" Kyriana asked, seeing him turn to face her.
"Aye, a warriur tae mah coontry an' man haem. Ah seem tae be deid noo, lass. Are ye an angel?"
"Nay, I am not. But I need you to come with me. You have shown great honor and courage today." He stepped closer to her, his corporal form taking hold. It was her powers taking his soul and claiming it. He studied her and met her eyes. Instantly, she felt nervous and looked away from him.
"Ye are te most beautiful secht I've seen."
Ignoring his words, she opened the large locket around her neck to reveal a swirling blue mist. His soul began to vanish as it was sucked into her necklace for transport to Valhalla. When she turned, Dyah, one of her sisters, was retrieving the soul of the brute man. "You always pick the weak ones. Odin will love this warrior." She smirked proudly and vanished. Kyriana rolled her eyes and turned to vanish herself from the fields drenched in blood, sweat and tears. Appearing next to Gyllir, she clasped the locket in her palm and brushed her thumb over the engraved symbol. It was a raven, her symbol. Due to her ebony hair and green eyes, being the only one of her kind and Odin's daughter, they referred to her as raven-esque.
"Oh, Gyllir. Something's changed...." She said softly, mounting the horse before reluctantly returning to Valhalla. When she touched him, something within her was lit and she had an ominious feeling as to what that could be. | faeea475ba344fdeb9321c92632bae97 | ['f4ad176a1d88493aa9a7d28efc1671b7'] |
Blood Warrior
She ran through the misty forest, running from him, the one she loved...the one she wanted nothing more than to be with. Feeling such anguish over having to end things with him; only for the greater good of him, and mankind. There could never be anything between them as they were two beings from a different spectrum. She was cursed, damned to hell for being born into darkness. It had consumed her life, consumed her. She'd always be doomed to be alone...petrified of never experiencing love for herself as she watched her sisters do many a time. But she was the dark one, tis wasn't allowed. Her breath became shallow and fast as her speed picked up.
Falling to the ground with a thud, she wept into the earth. Clenching fists as dirt nudged itself under her nails. Her father had forbid her to ever love a man, a measly excuse for a human he claimed. Being from a family of Gods was not the easiest upbringing. She was the dark one, she found the meanest, baddest of them all; procuring the best soldiers for battle in Valhalla. Her father Odin, trained such warriors for battle. It was the ultimate battle of Good VS Evil. If the wrong side tipped in favor, the world would end in Ragnarok.
She made a fatal mistake that day. His chiseled jaw, his bulging biceps, short chestnut hair and eyes to match. His frame was average and his hands were skilled. He was perfect. The aura he possessed made him special. She could sense it. Protruding from his chest, a sword. He held out a hand to her as she stared in awe at him. Slowly reaching down as their hands touched......that's when it all changed.
Let's go back to the beginning....
Odin was a god with a plan. He was building an army of warriors to train and prepare for the events of Ragnarök. Only those deemed worthy were gifted entrance into the lands of Valhalla. It was a place of peace and tranquility...but also a place of fierce bloodshed and power. Odin had many daughters, numbers up to sixteen or more. All had long flowing blonde locks and blue eyes. All except one- Kyriana, had long black hair that cascaded down her back in straight strands. Her eyes, the color of the ferns on the land of Valhalla. Depending on how the light reacted to them, they would change from light and dark with rings of red around the center. Her skin was a paler white than her sisters. She was the outcast, the unique one her father kept a close eye on. Kyriana held more powers and more abilities that Odin knew he could use to his advantage. Her mother was a female shaman with the ability to control elements and human. Odin was fond of human women; he liked to feel powerful.
They were all his Valkyrie Goddesses, Choosers of the Slain. When a new battle began, they scoured the lands for warriors who'd perished in battle. By the look of his aura, the Battle Maidens could tell if they had potential needed. Being brought to the land of Valhalla was a gift - one to be cherished. When not in training for Ragnarök, they spent their days being showered with gifts, food, and wines of the Gods. A warrior was reborn into the life once they entered the lands of Valhalla. Maidens of the land cared for their every wound and need. One rule of the Valkyrie was Pureness...once broken, the wrath of Odin would make one wish they'd met death. He prized his daughters on being the purest of the pure. This rule, however, only seemed to be strictly enforced on one of his Goddess daughters. The half breed, demi-goddess, Kyriana.
Kyriana struggled with the fact that she was known as the demi-goddess of death. Her presence meant death, she was the angel of death. While her sisters seemed to find their warriors who had already perished, Kyriana seemed to arrive as they were taking their last breath. Her sisters enjoyed their lifestyle, knowing it was for the better of mankind. Kyriana was naive. Never experiencing love, never allowed to. She watched as maidens of the land were often wooed by a strong warrior. Damned forever, struggling with her inner demons to rebel against her father.
She spent her free time alone, hidden in the darkened forest. Inner self-doubt and hatred for what she couldn't control made her horrible company. Her feet dangling into the brook as she sat in thought. The horns of war sounded as she heard her horse gallop behind her. "I know, Gyllir...I heard it, too,” she said as she turned and mounted the winged horse's back. "Let's go!" She exclaimed, as her horse began to sore into the sky heading for the battlefield on Midgard. Little did she know, today her life would change forever. |
3bb5cdf719cf4df5ae875fb52c92d0c4 | ['f4c23315f46b4575970ebc0de29f3276'] | He was painfully hard, arousal only increasing as he ground himself into Percy's heat, back arching into the delicious friction. He wanted this, Gods he wanted this, but he needed Percy to be ready.
"Perce. Percy, I— nnnngg— I want to _feel_ you." He murmured hotly into the teen's ear, sucking teasingly on the sensitive skin below it, nipping it gently. Percy's breath hitched and his hips stuttered briefly, before renewing their rolling rhythm with vigor.
"I... Fuck, yes— yeah. _Please_." Percy stumbled, scratching a burning trail down the muscles of his back before gripping Jason's ass and pushing him harder against him. They both grunted as Jason pressed against him harder, panting slightly as his cock throbbed through his shorts.
"Clothes. Gone. _Now_." He growled heatedly, lifting himself off of Percy to take his own advice. Percy huffed a laugh at his impatience, wriggling out of his boxer briefs with a little difficulty. As soon as his cock sprang free from its confines, Jason's eyes narrowed hungrily on the bead of pearly white precum that dripped from it's slit, his own member twitching violently as Percy began to stroke himself sensually. Jason stripped hastily, to far gone to make a show out of it. When Percy knelt before him, glorious body on full display, Jason couldn't help but claim the boy's mouth in a sloppy kiss, loving the way every stroke of their tongues sent white hot need straight to his straining cock. He flipped them so Percy was straddling his lap, the silky slide of skin against swollen skin enough to make him tip his head back and thrust his hips upwards for more.
"Fuck baby, knew you'd feel good." He grunted, reaching down to take them both in his hand. Percy thrust into his grip, eyes rolling back as Jason started to stroke them, occasionally adding a twist of his wrist or the flick of his thumb over Percy's slit. His breaths were coming out in pants and he started to rock his hips upwards as the friction of their cocks, slick with precum, sent waves of pleasure trailing through his spine. Percy trailed a hand down Jason's abs, sweaty with exertion, and cupped his own hand around their cocks, squeezing them tighter.
Every moan and mewl escaping Percy's swollen, red lips had him pick up their pace, fucking himself into the tight heat of their palms as his length rutted against Percy's desperately. He was close, so fucking close, the tension in his body mounting with the pleasure every second as Percy's hips began to buck wildly against his own, the oversensitive head of his cock throbbing deliciously.
Watching Percy, face flushed, mouth gaping in silent ecstasy, body writhing on top of his, Jason almost came then and there. His hand left his own cock to focus solely on Percy's long member, pumping the length furiously and thrusting harder into the other boy's hand in response to his cries of pleasure. He was lost to the sensations, body rocking desperately into Percy's hand as the pressure inside him peaked suddenly. With a last lunge of his hips, Jason's stomach muscles clenched tightly and his back arched proudly, the mounting pleasure in his cock exploded as he came in thick spurts into Percy's hand, crying out his pleasure loudly.
His hand spasmed around Percy's own cock, causing the dark haired boy to jerk forward suddenly and come with a shuddering force, moaning Jason's name like a mantra. They slumped against each other, panting loudly into the silence as they both came down from the blissful high of their orgasm. Jason's sweat cooled on his body, causing him to shiver and sit up reluctantly. With a sigh, he rolled to his feet, limbs feeling curiously detached from his brain.
"Wait— you're _leaving_?" Percy asked in hurt disbelief, Jason glared over his shoulder in exasperation, softening a little at the distressed look on his lover's sweaty face.
"No you idiot. I'm getting more blankets." He explained. Percy's body relaxed immediate and he sank back onto the bed, eyes sliding lazily shut.
"M'kay then. Hurry back." Jason grinned, a deep sense of right welling up in him, even as Percy's cum drying on his stomach was kind if gross. This, Percy sprawled on his bed, fingers lazily tracing through the puddle of his cum on his abdomen, green eyes tracking his movements, this was right.
Jason hurried back to Percy, throwing the blankets over his lover before clambering beneath them and cuddling into his side. He gently circled his arm around the other's slim waist and nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck, pressing his lips onto the salty skim there with a small, contented smile.
"Hey Perce?" He mumbled sleepily, "Do you think the others will throw bricks at me tomorrow?"
He felt, rather than heard Percy's laughter as it wracked his body with small shudders, and then the boy's long fingers as the wound into his hair.
"Yeah, prob'ly."
**Author's Note:**
> Did you notice the Dam joke? :3 Couldn't help myself. | 7ae0302bd91643c2ba7ab01a3474dd88 | ['f4c23315f46b4575970ebc0de29f3276'] |
Home
Edward paused on his way to the music room, changing course to the front door as Seth Clearwater's familiar mind grew stronger. The perpetually happy young wolf often visited his vampire neighbors, seemingly unaffected by the centuries long feud between their two peoples. It was one of the reasons Edward enjoyed his time, however unintentional it may be, inside the boy's mind. That and the fact that Seth's thoughts were surprisingly observant and insightful. Really, it was insulting how much better the kid was at making connections than he, he was a mind reader for Christ's sake.
Edward shook off his disgruntled and oddly proud thoughts, opening the door just as Seth pulled his worn cutoffs over his butt.
"Oh, hey Edward!" The younger boy grinned, teeth flashing brilliantly against his russet skin. Edward ignored the boy's mussed ebony hair which fell haphazardly into his soft brown eyes and focused on the slight bags beneath said eyes. Human vision would never of picked it up, especially against Seth's natural tan, but Edward could see the tired tilt to the younger's shoulders, the almost subconsciously accelerated blinking as if trying to keep heavy lids open. A wave of concern flooded through him.
"Are you okay?" He asked, placing a cool hand on Seth's warm shoulder. He didn't miss the way the dark haired boy leaned in slightly, as if craving the support.
"M'fine." He smiled, barely needing to look up anymore, it was crazy how fast Seth had shot up recently, even his voice had deepened slightly, the timbre illogically reminding Edward of an ancient rainforest, steady and calm, wild and fierce all at once. Maybe it was just his impression of Seth's mind leaking into his other senses, it wouldn't be the first time.
As Edward only studied his face carefully, Seth's mind reached out in welcome, something only a few people, like Alice, actually attempted with Edward. It made him feel warm inside, ironic considering his cold disposition.
Really Edward, Seth thought warmly, a warm, pleased feeling accompanied the thought, I'm fine.
A huge yawn cracked his jaws and he smiled sheepishly at Edwards raised eyebrow.
Fit as fiddle, honest. Just worn out from taking Jake's shift last night, guy's seriously taking too much on. He replied to Edwards silent query. It was like the boy was a mind reader himself, with the way he always knew what other people were thinking.
"Come inside Seth, I'll grab a pillow and you can crash on the couch," Edward paused as one of Seth's underlying thoughts caught his attention.
"No, nobody will mind, it's not like vampires actually need to sit down. Besides, everybody's away apart from Alice, Jasper and myself." He explained as he lead the teen into the living room.
"Cool." Seth mumbled, face planting into the couch. Edward chuckled, flitting upstairs to collect his copy of Dracula —only Emmett seemed to understand Edwards amusement at reading vampire fiction— and back down to a now snoring Seth Clearwater.
"Sweet dreams chiot," he whispered warmly, slightly surprised that his endearment of the French word chiot or 'puppy', managed to slip in, but he just shrugged it of. It suited the boy.
Soon Edward was lost in a combination of his novel, Seth's soothing snores and the boy's dream. Seth was hunting, enjoying the chase, revelling in the rush.
Edward was so enraptured by Seth's deft paws whispering through his dreamscape forest, he didn't even realise what Alice and Jazz were up to until it had already started. The sound of Jasper's quiet moan and the urgent Oh God, of Alice's mind, clued him in and his gaze rose lazily from his book to the direction of Alice's bedroom in mild irritation. He heard Jasper's chuckle and felt the wave of arousal his adoptive brother sent out. Deliberately.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as his cock twitched into semi hardness, sending exasperation Jasper's way. It would do no good, Edward knew, Jasper was an exhibitionist if ever there was one, but honestly, Seth was here. He could of at least spared the kid. Speaking of Seth, his snoring had faltered.
With that thought, Edward checked to see if Seth was still sleeping, hoping that the boy would be spared the spectacle of Edward's hard on and Alice and Jasper's loud lovemaking. Despite the occasional twitch, he was out cold, dark eyes still closed tight. Relieved, Edward delved back into Seth's mind, shocked at what he found their.
Despite his wishes, the sound of his siblings fucking had reached Seth, filtering into his consciousness alongside the overwhelming scent of... Edward. Seth's mind groaned, filled with a kind of desperate longing that had Edward's cock springing forth rather swiftly.
Edward, hmmmm. The sound was filled with so much pleasure that Edward felt himself willingly being pulled in further, images flickered in both their minds. Edward's cool hands running down the length of Seth's body, a soft caress on the curve of a hip, the gentle squeeze of a silky, brown thigh. More.
Edward's breath hitched and faltered, coming out ragged as Seth's mind conjured up more elicit images. Their lips connecting softly, gliding together like silk on satin. Then fiercer, the desperate clash of teeth and tongue as dominance was tested and won. Hips grinding together, the deep burning ache of pleasure and desire, desperate fingers spread firmly over the small of a back, urging him closer, the sweet relief of cock pressing against cock, the electric pleasure of icy hands gripping him firmly, tugging moans from his mouth with every slow stroke. Edward.
His name had a such a potent effect on his body it wrenches him from Seth's dream. He's strung taut, body a frozen statue as it registered the sharp shock of desire that pulsed in his blood, pumping straight to his dick. Seth. It sang, traitorous yet not entirely unwanted. |
e5176627f8f04778ac321722f354493a | ['f4fa55d01ca34998acf805e1e3f29ef9'] | Scary Movies
**Author's Note:**
> Its a really short JiKook drabble, but its my first one after a VERY long time! So I'm rough around the edges but please be gentle. :)
> I'm taking requests on my blog: jungkooksfool.tumblr.com
_**Creeek** _
With every little sound Jungkook looked around his room to see if something was there. Of course it was useless because it was 2:38am and he was surrounded by complete darkness. But tonight that darkness seemed to feel like it was filled with unwanted creatures that Jungkooks' imagination was creating.
“I knew I shouldn't have drank coffee so late while watching that dumb movie. Who even decided on watching a horror film anyways? I thought they all hated it.”
Of course Jungkook wasn't scared of such a childish film. The coffee was definitely doing things to his head tonight.
_**Creeek** _
Jungkook shot up from his bed. "Who's there?" He questioned to the darkness in front of him, louder than he had hoped.
_**Buzz** _
His body jerked as if his soul was about to escape his body."Jesus Christ." He looked to his left, where his phone had lit up beside him.
**Jimin Hyung 2:43am:**
_Jungkookie, are you okay?_
The phone went black from his inactivity. He went to grab his phone when it buzzed again.
**Jimin Hyung 2:43am:**
_I can hear you talking, Are you talking to yourself?_
Jungkook quickly took his phone and entered his password in, _0113_ , before his Hyung could continue to interrogate him.
**Jungkook 2:43am:**
_Sorry, I thought I heard someone. Go back to sleep hyung._
The younger boy sighed as he layed back to bed, hoping he would catch some shut eye before their schedule for tomorrow morning.
_ **Creeek**_.
Jungkooks eyes shot open, but the rest of his body failed to move from fear. The dim hallway light began to seep into his room as the door continued to open slowly. The boy gathered all his courage, which wasn't very much at this point, and took the pillow beneath his head, chucking it in the general direction of the door.
"Yaaaa!" A loud whisper came from the current forbidden area of the youngers’ room. "Kookie-ahh! What was that for?"
Jungkook sighed, as if a thousand bricks were lifted off his chest. He got up to face his hyung. "What the hell are you doing here."
"Why aren't you asleep" the elder questioned, ignoring the question posed upon him.
"I can't. I think it's the coffee." A lie, and they both knew it was.
"Ah, do you mind if I sleep here with you? Tae is snoring really loud, it's hard to sleep in there." Another lie, and they both knew it.
"Sure, I guess." Jimin swiftly moved his way to the youngers bed as the other shifted over to the right, giving his hyung space on his tiny bed made for 1 person. After moments of awkward shuffling around in the search of a comfy position , Jimin broke the silence. "Wait."
Jungkook froze in his position, that was currently taking up half of the bed space. Jimin moved to lay his head on the younger chest. "Okay. Now we're okay," He said followed by his lazy sigh.
Jungkook was too tired to protest his hyung, it was a most 3 in the morning, but he oddly didn't want to either. There was a sense of comfort that came from his hyung laying over his chest, almost calming him down from the fear of the unknown that may be lurking in the shadows of his room.
"Hyung." Jungkook whispered.
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
He could feel that cheeky smile grow against his chest from the elder that laid on top of him.
"Good night kookie."
**Author's Note:**
> Short right? Comments are always welcome! I'd love to know what you guys think!
> If you want to request something, my tumblr is jungkooksfool.tumblr.com
> Thank you!!!! | 150703ab15f6444889717d55ba59e419 | ['f4fa55d01ca34998acf805e1e3f29ef9'] | I can Breathe
I Can Breathe
As I sat on my chair, looking back at all the evidence, I begin to see a pattern. "John?" I yell out. "We have to go."
"But I just bought us dinner. Could we at least eat and then -"
"We don't have much time" I cut him off as I opened the closet, took my black jacket and stripped scarf and made my way to the doors. "C'mon John, we have to go." I can hear john mumbling something about me as he went down the stair to the door. We leave the house immediately and catch a cab. I sit in first as John follows.
We are half way to our destination now and John decides to break the silence. "Sherlock, where are we going so late at night? Couldn't we wait till at least dinner was over. I had just bought us Chinese. Why the rush?" I turned my face from the window to witness John staring at me with confusion and frustration.
"I found out all the answers to this case, and the missing piece is hidden in the museum. We are going there right now." John didn't reply. Instead he decided to turn to his window.
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We had gone through the back doors and head towards the basement of the museum. We quickly paced ourselves to the store room and went in. "John, there should be a green box in here somewhere. Help me look for it."
"How big is the box."
"It should be around the size of a small earring box." We split up looking for the box all over every shelf.
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I found the box!" John came walking towards me. He stopped. "SHERLOCK MOVE!" John pushed me over onto the ground, as a heard a boom.
I looked up to see someone run out the store room. As I move my gaze down I find him lay there, gushing blood. "John?" I crawled up towards him noticing the blood pouring out of his chest. "John! JOHN! Are you okay? JOHN!" He failed to respond.
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I sat waiting as the operation room light caused more agony. They had taken him in 2 hours ago and yet no doctor or nurse has given the police department or myself any update. I can feel my throat dying up but my eyes getting damp. This was all my fault. He saved me. He risked his life for me, and now he is fighting to survive himself. Oh how I wish we just stayed home tonight and just ate the noodles. I just wish I could just tell him once, just once, how much I care about him, how I could do anything for him. If only I could just tell him that I love him.
The Operation Light switched off and the doctor came out. I stood up instantly as he walked towards us. "He is a fighter Mr. Holmes. He's okay. You may meet him, just don't make so much noise." A tear escaped my eyelids. I took a deep breath and walked to the door.
"Let me go alone first." Greg understood and stayed back with the department. I opened the door and walked over to John. He laid there unconscious and pale. I wiped my tear and carefully laid next to him on the bed. I took his ice cold hand and held it tight. "I never meant for this to happen John. I am really sorry," I whispered.
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Twenty minutes later John opened his eyes. I was still holding on to his hand with my eyes closed. "Sherlock. Are you okay?" His voice shot my eyes open and I turned my head to look at him.
"John! You're awake?" He smiled weakly.
"Are you okay Sherlock? Did you get hurt?" He asked weakly, barely getting a sound out.
"You're asking me? John, you were almost...dead. Never do this for me again. Never! If anything had happened to you John, what would have done without you."
"And if anything happened to you, you think I would be able to breathe?" I looked down to his eyes with shock. "I can't live without you Sherlock." He moved his head placing it gently on my chest. I wrapped my arms around him, promising myself to never let him go.
"Sherlock"
"Hmm"
"People are going to be talking now."
We both burst out laughing as the light of the sunrise drowned the room.
Authors Note: First OS on Johnlock, and haven't written anything in a while. All comments are welcome! |
7738d29525024a60b842fdd8d48c2043 | ['f517df3995e94f0b9e7af8d0086d2953'] | Pig Shit
She sat on the chair, her head in her hands. The plush fabric felt comforting and in complete contrast to the throbbing sensation at her temples. This was the first time she’d felt like this since – well it had been a very long time.
“Ah, Clymene. Zeus will be with you shortly. Would you like some water? You don’t look so hot.”
She knew that she probably should, but the idea of putting anything against her lips just now made her stomach churn. She lifted her head and politely declined. The nymph returned to her desk and pulled out her phone.
What on Gaia had happened? This was so unlike her. She could remember small fragments of last night. Little strobe lit flashes of memory.
_Who was the strange visitor? What did he say his name was?_
She didn’t get very many visitors. She didn’t get any visitors. The new Gods left her be, and she was thankful for that. But, here she was sitting in the waiting room at Olympus Hall, awaiting an audience with the King of The New Gods. She had the uneasy feeling that something had happened, but she couldn’t recall. And, that’s why she was here now.
Another wave of nausea washed over her, and she felt herself gag. The nymph at the front desk eyed her mockingly, and frantically started typing on her phone. She never understood the need for phones, but then she didn’t really have anyone that she would want to talk to.
Again, another flash of memory. This time she saw more than the muffled pink blur. She saw his face. And wine. So much wine.
_What was his name again?! Eris? No, she’s the Goddess of Strife and Discord. Er-, Er-, Eros?! The God of Desire and Sex? Why would the God of Desire and Sex pay me a visit?_
She had a moment’s panic. Why did the God of Desire and Sex pay her a visit late at night? Each new memory provided no answer but more questions.
The panic quickly subsided. She’s confident that nothing sexual happened, but why would he visit her?
Another flash. She remembered the knock at the door. She remembered her confusion at the strange winged man standing there holding a bottle of wine and a tray of donuts.
“Good evening, dear Clymene. I’m Eros. You know who I am. Who am I kidding? Of course, you do.”
“Sure, I know who you are. God of Desire and Sex, son of Aphrodite and Ares, and one of the Erotes.”
“Great, may I come in? I brought some gifts for you.”
Why did she let him in? She was so taken a back by the fact she had a visitor, she didn’t know what to do. Argh! Why can’t she remember what happened? She only had a couple of glasses of wine.
She remembers laughing. She hadn’t laughed in so long. She missed it. The smile that crossed her face brought forth another memory.
_Pig Shit._
What?!
_Pig Shit._
She buried her head in her hands again. What happened?!?
Another wave of nausea. He was very interested in her. It was nice. She thought it was nice that someone wanted to spend some time with her. She forgot how much she missed it. He spoke a lot. He liked to talk. They spoke about her. They spoke about him. He spoke about his mum, the Goddess of Love and Beauty. He spoke about his friend, Persephone, The Goddess of Spring. And, he spoke about Apollo, The God of Archery, Music, Dance, Truth and Prophecy, Healing and Diseases, the Sun and Light, Poetry, and Pig Shit.
The flood gate opens, and the memories played out in her mind.
_Pig Shit._
_Apollo. _
Oh, no. How could she let this happen? She was the Goddess of Renown and Fame! It was her job to retain all the knowledge of the Gods, who they were and what they did. She was their Record Keeper. How did she let this happen?!
Her panic is cut short by a buzzer.
“Thetis, please send Clymene through.”
She stirred, stood and steadied herself. Thetis smiled as she walked past and into Zeus’ office. He beamed as she walked in.
“Well, this is very unusual. It’s a delight to see you Clymene, but to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Ok, I need to talk to you about something that might have –“
She’s cut short by the commotion outside of Zeus’ office door. She can hear Thetis’s raised voice but can’t make out what she is saying.
The doors burst open, and the commotion grows louder. An unpleasant smell wafts into the office. It smells _fresh_…
_Pig Shit._
A very angry God spills into the room. Clymene can only make out little patches of purple skin underneath the dirt and straw that covers his body.
“The God of Pig Shit, Zeus! Really?!”
Zeus looked at Clymene and cocked his eyebrow. She couldn't hold it back anymore. The neausea. The smell. She leaned forward as she heaved the contents of her stomach on the carpetted floor.
Zeus sighed. It was going to be one of those days. | 7b4a37293267466eabd1ddb10152feee | ['f517df3995e94f0b9e7af8d0086d2953'] | _Of course, he’s not here. He’ll be in his office or in a meeting or doing whatever the King of the Underworld does. He is a very busy man after all, with more important things to do than check up on an intern. Focus up, Persephone. You can’t get distracted! _
The elevator pinged as it reached the correct floor. Persephone stepped out, and looked at the direction signs on the wall.
“Conference Room B…Conference Room B- ah, this way.”
She made her way along the corridor to the end of the hall where she was met with a set of double doors, and a plaque that read _Conference Room B_. She peered through the strip of glass on the door and listened in as an intern concluded their presentation.
“Thank you, Tomaes. If you would take your seat, please.”
Persephone opened the door as the Tomaes made his way to his seat. She could feel everyone looking at her, their eyes boring into her.
_Oh, yeah. I’m dressed as a butterfly…_
She steeled herself and kept walking.
Hecate was intently focused on something at the back of the room, wearing an expression that Persephone couldn’t quite read. They turned to face each other as she strode forward.
“Ah, Persephone! You made it just on time. I trust Hermes and Thanatos have the festivities under control?”
“Yes. Well. Hopefully. Thank you for waiting for me.”
“No problem at all. I know HR are very keen that today go without a hitch. Please make your way to the front.”
She made her way to the front as instructed, and turned to face the screen. She pulled a USB out of a small leather pouch Eros had hidden amongst the layers of fabric, and inserted it into the laptop. When her presentation was up on the big screen, she looked towards Hecate who nodded in return.
“Hi everyone, for my intern project I’ll be-“
She choked on her sentence and stumbled as her eyes met the widened eyes of the God who sat at the far end of the table. It was too late, she could already feel the crimson heat rising up from her torso.
_Hades._ |
83b8832be8ba4aeba477bd7747fe6d67 | ['f55a895bbd684e70ac7deb23995cb67b'] | Julia twirls a strand of beads around a gnarled finger. "Well… that much is true." She sighs. I don't understand where she is going with this. "Now I _know_ we have spoken of the nature of Time and preserving the integrity of events—"
My head droops on my neck under the weight of my guilt. I cannot look at her.
"—but we have never talked about _Fate_ before."
My clasped hands are blurred. My heart is sick, sick, sick with dull and blunt horror. How far would I go to protect what I have with Severus? I couldn't hurt Julia, could I? Could I bring myself to Obliviate her? Where is my wand? I'm sure I left it on the tea tray yesterday.
She chuckles and continues with her monologue. "Fate is a strange creature, Hermione… even stranger than Time herself. Sometimes Fate will be so strong she will spiral around Time, transcend it…"
"I… I don't… understand," I say eventually. The tear that streaks down my cheek is cool against my flushed skin.
She leans forward and touches my hand. "I _know_ … I have _always_ known."
"Ahhh." Surprise escapes my lips in a bubble. I glance up into her wise and wrinkled face, looking for answers there.
She sighs softly. "Yes." She shakes her head. "I'm sorry that I could not tell you or support you these last months, but my interference would have been unwise, I think; if you had known…" She shakes her head again.
"How… did you know?" I manage to whisper tightly. The dread has gone, and it is replaced by a strange, uncomfortable notion that I've been drawn along to this very moment in an inexorable tide of destiny.
She smiles, now. "Oh. Perhaps it was chance… perhaps not, after all." She shrugs and her scarlet-tipped fingers flutter. "When I Travelled to Sydney several years ago, I met a very interesting witch and a wizard there. I have returned to visit with them often; they are very dear friends of mine, now."
Tingles of foreshadowing tickle down my arm. I rub at them vigorously.
Julia smiles at me, her lips stretching wide. "And they told me their story, their fascinating, intricate love story. And it was _tightly_ woven with my own story, in the end. You and Severus have a lovely home in 1955, my dear. I love visiting you!"
The world is hazy again. It feels like the world has turned itself inside out. I can't quite grasp this new reality, and I flounder to find appropriate words. "I… er…" I sigh loudly. "I thought it wasn't allowed," I blurt out, all my pent-up anxiety spilling out like a secret. "How—"
Julia rolls her eyes at me. "We have _just_ discussed Fate, have we not? You'll have a lot of time to think about things in the sunshine Down Under, anyway. It'll give you something to do." She sighs, too, now. "The rules are an impossible ideal and humans—with our hearts and souls interfering—well, we make mistakes. Time and Fate take advantage of that, perhaps. Who knows."
For a long moment I wonder if her story is larger than I'd ever imagined. Fifty years is a long time. Did she lose her heart to a man out of Time, too? Then, before I can ask her if I'm the only one, Severus steps into the living room looking bemused; he's obviously been eavesdropping and he's as bewildered as I am.
"Severus!" Julia says, standing up in a flutter and whoosh of vermillion silk. "It's been a while." She beams at him.
He frowns and stares at her, and I can see the gears turning in his head, like he's taking the pieces of her and trying to place them into a hole that just won't fit. "Julia West… but I _taught_ you."
Julia grins at him, her wrinkles creasing deeply into laugh-lines. "Of course you did, Professor Snape," she says with a loud laugh. "I didn't like Potions much, by the way."
Faced with the twists and ironies of time, Severus looks floored. I can imagine why: the woman standing next to him looks at least fifty years older, yet she was younger than him only a few years ago! I thought that my time with him as Hope had inured him to the obvious side-effect of Travelling, but it's staring him in the face, now, bold as brass.
Severus takes several moments to compose himself. It looks like he's Transfigured a set of black robes for himself with my wand; he looks pale but handsome. I'm floating in the knowledge that he and I will be together… in the _past_. It's so much more than I'd ever hoped for, so much different than I'd ever envisioned!
"You blew up seventeen cauldrons during your tenure in my classroom, Miss West," he informs her with a smirk.
Julia snorts and turns to me. "This one is a real keeper, Hermione," she says dryly. "Now, perhaps you'd like to pack and get organised to Travel for the last time?" She reaches into her robe pocket and pulls out a silver bracelet.
I gasp. She's holding my Chrono in the palm of her hand. It seems I'm going to give up my Travels.
I've found my place in Time. I've found my heart.
11. Epilogue
Epilogue
"May the circle be unbroken."
—Country gospel song
* * *
_16th January 1990_
_Hermione is 10_
It feels like I'm cheating; it's probably snowing back home and here I am at the beach, and the sun is shining so brightly it feels like it will never be cold again. Mum and Dad have retreated under the brolly; they're bright red already. Mum doesn't understand why I haven't become red and crispy, either, but I told her it's simple: "I don't _want_ to burn." She rolled her eyes at me and told me there's no way to will yourself not to burn. | 25e435bd9895470cab676c67b58ecea6 | ['f55a895bbd684e70ac7deb23995cb67b'] | Argh! Is the squid loose again? Will Syrena be all right? Are the wards really that weak? Concern for her little friend twists and wriggles through her mind. Hermione quickly starts to pretend like she's working when she hears Snape pushing the door open.
"You will have to finish that tomorrow evening, Miss Granger," he says distractedly.
"I don't mind finishing it alone if you have to go somewhere, sir," she says, hugging the stack of magazines to her chest and trying to smile innocently.
His staccato laugh is mirthless. "Out," he says blandly, gesturing to the door with an uncompromising expression.
Well, she thinks as she puts the periodicals down again, he never was anybody's fool, was he? She slinks round-shouldered to the door. Her hand on the door handle, she pauses and clears her throat.
"Sir?"
"What is it, Granger?" he asks impatiently.
"Can I do anything to help with the wards for the giant squid?" she blurts out.
His expression sours as she all but confesses to eavesdropping. "Do you really think you could do better than Professor Flitwick or I?" he asks scathingly.
A resigned expression flitters across her lips, and she turns to go.
"Granger."
Hermione's expression is quizzical when she turns to face her teacher again, and she raises her eyebrows in a silent question, wondering what nasty commentary he's going to mark their parting with.
"If you can come up with a viable solution, I'll give you an 'O' for your DADA year-mark."
oOo
Wow, she thinks as she climbs the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, he really cares about helping the merpeople and the selkies for some reason. She smiles, and her broken heart mends just a little at the sign that Snape seems to have a heart, after all.
Hermione sits in the window seat and stares out of the window at Hogwarts' frosted grounds. In the bright glow of the almost-bloated moon, a flicker of movement at the far edge of the lake catches her attention. She Transfigures a pair of binoculars and lifts them to her eyes. She watches quietly with a sense of satisfaction and longing while Professor Flitwick reconstructs the Bounding Ward and Professor Snape wrangles to keep the giant squid—the beast named Kraken—bound in the glittering web of a Confinement Charm. A short distance away, lake-dwellers keep silent guard—dark skinned merpeople with wickedly sharp spears and glimmering selkies with long-handled tridents—along the edges of their respective aquatic territories.
I want to help, she thinks as she climbs into bed. There shouldn't be a reason for there to be another Leenash in the world.
That night Hermione dreams she is swimming in the quiet green, and the peace presses around her like an embrace. She gazes up at the undulating surface, the silvering divide, and wishes that she could stay down here forever, where life seems less complicated and so much more serene. But then a dark shape appears overhead, trailing tentacles and blocking out the sun, and she screams herself awake.
The birds have barely heralded dawn's approach when Hermione rushes down the steep incline to the lake. Its surface is pale lavender in the ghostly light. "I'll find a way," she promises. "I'll find a way." She doesn't quite know if she's talking about fixing the wards or finding a way to get beneath the surface of the lake again.
She's almost finished on her walk when a dark head breaks the surface. Syrena's warbling greeting and crooked smile stops her in her tracks.
"Hello, Syrena," she says with relief. "I see the squid is back in his place; I was worried about you yesterday."
Hermione struggles not to wince when the selkie replies—Syrena's melodic voice is jagged and high-pitched and harshly unintelligible in the thin air.
"I'll come and visit you soon so we can talk," Hermione promises. "I want to hear all about the rest of Leenash's story."
Syrena nods vigorously and says something excitedly, making rapid hand movements in the air, punctuating her speech. Hermione shakes her head. "I wish we learned other languages at school," she says wryly. Although she's not entirely sure she'd have picked Mermish as a first choice.
As Hermione turns to walk back up to the castle, Syrena shrugs, waves, and the selkie flicks a sparkling spray of water in goodbye.
As the rest of the castle begins to wake around her, Hermione pens a letter to Harry. She asks him to send her some Gillyweed. But she doesn't tell him why, and she doesn't ask him if Ron is as angry and hurt as she imagines, and she doesn't ask him if he thinks she was in the right or not, and she doesn't ask him what he's been writing in his letters to Snape.
4. Revealed
When Harry's owl arrives almost a week later, Hermione tucks the lumpy little parcel into her robes like a secret. She allows a slight, triumphant curve of her lips before she reads the letter that accompanies it over her morning toast and tea.
_Dear Hermione,_
_Sorry about the delay. Gillyweed isn't in season at the moment and it was bloody hard to get hold of. I had to flash my Auror's badge and use the Potter-factor to get to the top of the list at the apothecary. What I do for my friends, eh? Do I even want to know what you want in the lake, anyway? Don't worry about paying me back: Merry Christmas, Hermione._
_Yeah. Talking about Christmas. Do you have any idea of what I could get Professor Snape for Christmas? I was thinking a dose of Anti-Stubborn Potion would be good because he still hasn't answered any of my letters. I've locked his memories in my safe for now until he lets me know whether he wants them back or not. It is kind of awkward to write to him when it feels like my letters are disappearing into a black hole._ |
e65e89e661674db882bf67c5928e150c | ['f56467479a43433a9a609c7270f08935'] | there's a heart stain on the carpet
“I was supposed to go to California,” Tia says. It’s roughly one in the morning, the two of them on the couch. Kent’s head is in Tia’s lap and he starts a bit, like he was almost asleep.
“Wha-?”
“My full name is Cynthia Faith Carter. I just realized we’ve been living together for two years and I never told you my full name.” Tia laughs a little. There’s a panicked edge to it and Kent knows that whatever point Tia’s trying to get to won’t be happy.
“But yeah. I was supposed to go to California. I’d heard stories, y’know? About how accepting it is and the LGBT population and shit. Maybe I’d even go to college there.” She’s talking to herself, mostly. Kent sits up slowly and then switches them around, so Tia’s head is in his lap. He cards his fingers through her hair while she pulls her thoughts together.
“Sorry, I’m not making any sense, am I? You remember you asked me a while back how it was so easy for me to come out to the whole world?” Kent nods. “I just did it ‘cause I figured I could handle whatever they threw at me.” She pauses. “I came out to my parents a couple weeks before my seventeenth birthday. They told me they didn’t raise me to be a… to be like this. When I told them I couldn’t help that I was gay, they put me in conversion therapy. It was-” Tia frowns. Her chin wobbles. “It was hell, Kenny. It was the worst thing I’ll ever experience.
“My grades in school were alright, but they weren’t enough to get a full ride anywhere and my parents made it clear they wouldn’t fund me. So I got a job and babysat and walked dogs and I saved up money and when I was eighteen I left. I just left. I finished school, technically, but I missed graduation. I don’t know what my parents did with my diploma.
“I wanted to make it to California, but by the time I got here I barely had twenty bucks. I figured I’d stay a couple months, maybe, long enough to make sure I had enough money, and then I’d finally get where I wanted to go. You know what happened, though?”
“What?”
“You happened. I saw your job offer and I thought, ‘ _hell yeah I wanna get paid to sit around with some cute cats_ ’ so I contacted you and… I never left.”
“I’m glad you didn’t leave,” he says. Tia turns her face into his stomach and mumbles something into his shirt.
“Didn’t quite catch that, T.”
She moves her face so she’s not muffled. “It’s my mom’s birthday.”
“Oh.” Kent doesn’t know what to say.
“I was named after her. She’s Cynthia Ruth. Everyone calls her Cindy, though. It’s cliché, but Momma was my best friend. And I haven’t said a word to her in three years.”
“Do you want to?”
Tia groans, hands coming up to cover her face. “I don’t fucking know. It was great for almost seventeen years, but then she couldn’t look me in the eyes for months because apparently I’m not the little girl she raised anymore. A year ago I’d’ve told you I’d suffer through conversion therapy forever if it meant she’d love me again. But I dunno. I’m happy now, with you and the team and everything. I just… I wish she… I don’t fucking know, Kenny. I don’t know anymore.”
“Do you want my opinion?” At the redhead’s shrug, he continues, “I might be biased, but honestly? She can go to hell. If she can’t love all of you then she doesn’t deserve to be a part of your happiness.”
**Author's Note:**
> yeah this scene should probably be longer but i lost inspiration for it. sad talk continues and then there's cuddling and tia might try to get in contact with her family again - if only to get all her important documents - but idk yet. | 79b3286956e04304bc9b20c13ab09b0a | ['f56467479a43433a9a609c7270f08935'] |
1. favorite twin
Taako is somehow both numb and furious as he points the Umbra Staff at Lucretia. How could she- She made him-
He lost Lup - his sister, his _everything_ \- and then _this bitch_ went and left him without even a memory of her.
Taako and Lup were (are, are, _are_ , she’s still out there somewhere, please, she has to be) two halves of a whole, two sides of the same coin. She’s the reason he learned magic, the reason he’s even _alive_ ; the only reason he even applied to be on that fucking extraplanar exploration nightmare was for her. She’s the one that wanted to go, and Taako simply followed.
Around him, everyone is talking, there’s the too-familiar sounds of the apocalypse around them, but Taako hears it all like he’s underwater. Nothing matters anymore. The only thing that ever mattered to Taako was Lup. Magnus says something to him, something about his connection to Lup and how she wouldn’t want him to give up, but Lup’s gone.
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” Taako says, and _gods_ , he’s so tired, “and I’m on board for whatever the plan is. But understand this: I have nothing, and I don’t give a shit. The world is ending, and I. Don't. Care.”
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> hi my name’s skyler and i love this idiot wizard so much
2. sibling bonding
“One time, when we were 46, Lu-”
“I thought we agreed never to talk about that again!”
“Yeah, but that’s before you got a boyfriend I could embarrass you in front of.”
“Fuck off!” Lup grabs the pillow next to her and smacks Taako with it. Repeatedly.
“Barry! Barold, help! My evil twin is trying to kill me!” Barry, sat at the foot of the bed and away from the two elves that were now basically wrestling, holds his hands up.
“Nope, not interfering. I learned my lesson about five cycles in.”
Lup currently has Taako in a chokehold and is noogie-ing him mercilessly as Taako wails about how she’s ruining his hair. “Really? It took you five whole cycles? I thought you were some sorta genius, babe.”
Barry pushes his glasses back up his nose. “Maybe, maybe _not_ ,” he throws his weight forward on the “not” and latches his arms around Lup’s waist, pulling her (and by extension Taako) down onto the bed with him.
His girlfriend gives him a very dramatic look of betrayal that is completely ruined by the grin she fails to hide. “Et tu, Barold?”
Barry grins back at her and starts kissing her face - nose, cheeks, forehead, everywhere he can reach - until Lup’s red-faced from laughing.
“You’re both gross,” Taako moans, and he flops over onto the two of them with enough force to knock the air out of their lungs.
“Love you, too, Taako.”
“Love ya, bro.”
“Yeah, yeah. I love you nerds, too.”
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> barold is an integral part of this family unit thanks for coming to my ted talk
>
> —
>
> sorry i missed a day! i got hit with the flu and it’s draining all my energy. i’ll try to double update tomorrow to get back on track.
3. childhood
Lup watches anxiously as her brother sets up a ridiculous amount of potions and spell components on the bathroom counter.
“Taako, wait-” She grabs his wrist, and if her hands are shaking, well, who could blame her.
Her face must’ve been showing more worry than she thought, because as soon as Taako turned around, he pulls her into a hug. After a moment, he pulls away and holds her face in his hands.
“Lulu, do you want this?”
“Yes.”
“Do you trust me?”
“What sort of question is that? Of course I do.”
Putting their foreheads together, with Lup’s hands coming up to cover his own, Taako meets her gaze with a rare intensity. “Then let me do this for you.”
—
“HOLY SHIT, IT WORKED!” Lup shrieks and all but tackles her brother in a hug. They’re both crying and clinging to each other, swaying, until Lup suddenly bursts into giggles.
“What?”
“Hugging is weird with boobs,” she says, and now both of them are laughing, so much that it hurts. They sink to the floor, still holding each other and so, so happy.
“So,” Taako starts once they’ve calmed down, though they’re both still grinning, “was I right or was I right?”
“Yes, Taako, you were right. You are the dopest transmutation wizard ever, and at the tender age of 32 have completely outdone every apothecary-certified transitioning program in existence.”
“You also owe me ten bucks.”
“You’re never going to shut up about this, are you?”
“Hell no, I’m not! I’m already planning how to put this into my best ma-”
“I swear to all the gods, Taako, if you talk about the fact that you made my genitals at my wedding, I will literally murder you.”
He grins. “Worth it, tho.”
They sit in silence for a minute, Lup’s head on Taako’s shoulder and his head on hers.
“Thanks, Koko.”
“Anything for you, Lulu.”
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> just in case it’s not clear what this is about, the twins are 32 (elves aren’t considered adults until at least 100, so this counts as childhood) and taako has effectively DIY’d lup the fantasy versions of HRT, top and bottom surgery, and all that other fun stuff. as an lgbt person myself, i didnt wanna write sad homeless lgbt kids, so here’s some happy shit instead.
4. free space/headcanons
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> here’s some super informal bullet point headcanons i have of the twins! im posting this from my phone so the formatting isn’t exactly how i meant it to be, but i’ll fix it next time i’m at my computer.
* neither twin knows which one is older |
ee83d51845654058898e7b85f2f8c1da | ['f5914106db0a4bcf9d737ca17fe66239'] | Naturally, ten minutes into the lesson, Hermione managed to repel Neville's muttered JellyLegs Jinx without uttering a single word, which should've earned her points. Snape who swept past them, ignored the bookworm's success, as he strode around the class, resembling an overgrown bat. He came over towards Ron and Harry who were struggling with the task.
Ron, was purple in the face, his lips tightly compressed to save himself from the temptation of muttering the incantation. (Which Harry couldn't help but chuckled quietly at the ginger's attempt.) The black haired wizard had his wand raised, waiting to repel a jinx that seemed unlikely to ever come, "Pathetic, Weasley." A familiar drawling voice of Professor Snape's spoke, after a while of watching his useless attempt to summon the jinx.
"Here-let me demonstrate-"
He turned his wand on Harry so fast that Harry, forgetting that he was suppose to keep pretense, quickly summon a Shielding Charm silently. The whole class watched in interest as the spell was sudden repelled against Snape's jinx.
Snape scowled at the black haired wizard, "Do you remember me telling you we are practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?"
Harry blinked, 'No way does he think I actually-'
"Well, Potter?"
He stiffly replied, "Yes."
"Yes, _sir_."
Harry, knowing what he's about to do is extremely foolish, but he doesn't care. After all Snape just not only embarrassed him by saying that he didn't did that spell nonverbally, but also tried to jinx him intentionally as well as demanding respect that he doesn't deserve in any sense.
"No need to call me 'sir', Professor."
Once those words left his lips, Harry immediately regretted it as he heard several people gasped, including Hermione. Behind Snape, Harry took noticed of Ron, Dean, and Seamus shared grins.
"Detention, Saturday night, my office," Snape whispered deadly as black coal eyes seemed to stare through Harry's soul, "I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter...not even the Chosen One.
As soon as that was said, it was signaled that class was over. Once they were safely on their way to the common room, Ron chortled, "That was brilliant Harry!"
"You really shouldn't have said it," Hermione chided, frowning at Ron. "What made you?'
"He tried to jinx me, in case you didn't notice." Harry sneered, "I didn't even say the incantation!"
"Well...," Hermione trailed, "I thought he sounded a bit like you when he was lecturing."
"Like me?" He asked as he raised a brow in question.
"Yes, when you were telling us what it's like to face Voldemort. You said it wasn't just memorizing a bunch of spells, you said it was just you and your brains and your guts-well, wasn't that what Professor Snape said?"
Blinking at the muggleborn's words, just as when Harry was about to reply, he was suddenly interrupted.
"Harry! Hey, Harry!"
Upon hearing his name, the black haired wizard turned to come face-to-face with a brown haired Gryffindor who was hurriedly towards him, holding a roll of parchment. Despite his familiar appearance, Harry couldn't seem to remember the other wizards name.
"For you," panted the brown haired wizard, "Listen, I heard you're the new Quidditch Captain. When're you holding trials?"
Blinking at the younger wizard, it seem that Harry forgotten about his position as Quidditch Captain. Sighing wearily, Harry confessed, "I'm not sure yet, but I'll let you know soon."
"Oh, I see. I was hoping it'd be this weekend-"
Unfortunately, the brown haired wizards rambling was ignored. Seeing the thin, slanting writing on the parchment, Harry immediately recognized it. Leaving the poor wizard mid-sentence, he hurried to Ron and Hermione, unrolling the parchment as he went.
_Dear Mr. Potter,_
_I would like to start our private lessons this Saturday. Kindly come along to my office at 8 P.M. I hope you are enjoying your first day back at school._
_Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore_
_P.S. I enjoy Acid Pops._
"Acid Pops?", Ron asked curiously with his eyebrows furrowed.
Harry shrugged,"It's probably his password for his office, either way I can't make it to his lessons. Professor Snape's detention is the exact same time as Dumbledore's ing lesson."
Raising a brow, the redhead questioned,"Since when did you care about Snape's detention over Dumbledore's ("Professor Dumbledore's.", Hermione chided.) lesson? You've been so excited to have a lesson with him."
"Well I believe it's a good thing to consider Professor Snape's detention," Hermione commented, "especially with how things ended between you two last year."
To be honest with himself, Harry didn't want to deal with Dumbledore this soon. He just came back from the past and things are still complicated to get use to. Without Myrtle, or even Tom and his cronies, it was different. Different, but it really isn't that different at all, he still has Ron and Hermione to pull him through. Instead of the silver and green that surrounds him, it was red and gold. Different doesn't mean it's a bad thing, but he has his reasons to not let anyone know, not even his closest friends. Things are changing as the war between good and evil have darken into grey, and Harry is right in the middle.
As the doors open to the Great Hall, Harry muttered, "True, but things are going to be quite different this year."
* * *
_September 24, 1943_
_"The Dark Arts," Tom emphasized, "take form in a variety of ways, whether it's an Unforgivable, Blood Magic, or even Soul Magic. They are indestructible and mutated as well as addictive, but the only way to use them is through intent."_
_Rolling his eyes, Hadrian replied, "Yes, we already know this Tom, with Professor Merrythought's lessons. Why bother explaining them to me? Dark Arts aren't something I favor as much."_ | 4966df6fd1ed483a98be631b27c9ffbd | ['f5914106db0a4bcf9d737ca17fe66239'] | _Hadrian slightly scowled, of course Riddle will find some way to find him. Glancing at the Slytherin, he knew that he had to make his decision soon. He knew he was overthinking but, what if he agreed then actually became one of Riddle's puppets? But if he agreed, he can possibly change his fate, and possibly changed the fate of others as well....he continued to ponder over the decision._
_A moment passed as Hadrian then turned to face the six year prefect, his faced changed into a serious expression, "I made my decision."_
_"And?"_
_Hadrian hesitated for a second before replying, "I decided that, yes, I do need your helped, and maybe Slytherins aren't as terrible. But one mistake, and I'll disregard anything you say to me."_
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Thanks for reading, I hope you guys enjoyed it. (:
4. No Need To Call Me Sir Professor
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Defense, Myrtle, and Choices
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything, blah blah you get the whole idea.
_Tom Riddle found the new student intriguing. From when he met Hadrian Evan on the train to Hogwarts, he took notice of recognition on those green eyes. Tom became suspicious, who was this wizard? How does Evan know him? Suspicion morphed into curiosity when the Sorting Hat called out Slytherin for the muggle-born wizard. A mudblood sorted into Slytherin? How peculiar..._
_He observed Evan from afar, and took notice of the harsh treatment the newly sorted Slytherin suffered through. He couldn't blame his housemates, after all, a mudblood as a Slytherin isn't something to be proud of; especially in a house where blood purity matters. It wasn't until Transfiguration Class when Tom decided to propose an agreement of a sort for the muggle born._
_Transfiguration Class had a strange sort of routine, Dumbledore would ask a question, no one would answer him but Tom, and Dumbledore would call Tom to answer who would give an impressively detailed explanation. Then with a resigned expression, the Transfiguration Professor would award him points for his explanation. The day started exactly like how it normally is, but what got Tom's attention was that the small flash of resignation on those green eyes. The way Evan looks at him was as though he saw wasted potential. Wasted on what exactly? Tom didn't know._
_Tom knew he shouldn't let curiosity get the better of him, but there was a variety of questions in his mind. Hadrian Evan knew something of him, that not even Tom himself know. At the end, curiosity won and that led to a proposition of an agreement. He watched as hesitancy morphed into determination as Evan agreed with him with adding a threat if met with betrayal._
* * *
_October12, 1942_
_Since the agreement Hadrian was treated more fairly within the walls of Slytherin. It started when Riddle asked him to seat with him and his 'friends' in front of the Slytherin Common Room where basically every Slytherin could hear. Unfortunately he couldn't declined the offered, considering it will be total suicide if he did so._
_It was...quite an experience sitting with Riddle and his lackeys, considering how he's known to be a 'muggleborn'. It was quite uncomfortable associating with them, only Riddle considering how he was the one who asked him, Orion Black, who's brash and loud and happens to remind Hadrian of a certain godfather of his, Mallard Lestrange, who happens to be the total opposite of Orion Black with full seriousness and sobriety, and Dorea Black, who was like the mother of the group, were the only ones who are actually treating him pleasantly. The others are....well still adjusting to having to befriend a muggleborn. If only Riddle didn't have to ask him such a ludicrous question, and if only he didn't agree._
_Despite the unbearable experience with Riddle and his 'friends', Hadrian came to pay more attention to a certain Ravenclaw muggleborn. He met the Ravenclaw during his time at the library during the first week of school. It was during his time of being harshly treated by his housemates. It took only a few days for them to just click together. Surprisingly, the Ravenclaw reminded Hadrian of a certain Gryffindor muggleborn._
_"-and don't forget to work on your Transfiguration Essay soon, Professor Dumbledore is unusually strict with Slytherins..." Myrtle Warren rambled on as the two made their way to the library._
_Hadrian couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's rambling. He didn't think that he would find himself friends with Myrtle of all people. Despite the incredulousness of the situation, the Slytherin did deeply cared for her._
_"Don't worry Warren, as you as a friend, I fear what will happen if I forget." Hadrian slightly teased with an amused smile._
_Myrtle rolled her eyes, "Oh please Evans, it's least likely you'll ever forget, especially with how well you're doing with your classes, particularly Defense Against the Dark Arts."_
_The statement was surprisingly true. With the quietness of the Slytherin Common Room made it easier for Hadrian to do his assignments and without Quidditch he had more time to actually study. Myrtle sometimes help him time to time with Transfiguration (the Ravenclaw was exceptionally good with that particular subject), and Riddle (surprisingly) and some of the other Slytherins would help him with some of his work._
_It was quite refreshing for Hadrian to receive some well marks for his classes. He did however continued with Divination and Care of Magical creatures despite what the other Slytherins thought of, even Myrtle scoff at him about his choices of elective._
_"Except Divination." The green eyed Slytherin couldn't help but retorted back._
_"Divination shouldn't even be considered an elective, it's more of a bother really." Myrtle dismissed._
_Seeing the smile of the Ravenclaw face showed that she was just only mocking around. Hadrian couldn't help but returned the smile._
* * * |
475aa59225d040fe8ed8c4d9d2de02ab | ['f5b28531a1c447aaa570813ab1655a61'] | _He stared down at the wooden carved tag in his hands that marked him as one of the gang._
_The gang._
_His friends._
_Will was his friend._
_And Merlin refused to sit idly by and watch one of his friends die._
Memories and warnings screamed against his skull as he stood and made his determined way back to camp. He marched past Allan even as the man called out his name. He ignored Robin when he stopped short speaking with Marian and cast him a curious glance. Merlin only paused when he reached the inside of the camp, and Will.
Djaq was at his side once more, though, this time alone. She stroked his matted hair as her eyes swam inside his. Without words, they spoke to each other. Stifling tears with a shaking breath, Djaq moved her other hand to rest atop his. Their gaze remained unbroken as Will weakly turned his hand over, lacing his fingers with hers.
"I love you," Djaq's words were whispered so low, as if they didn't need the words to know the truth. "I'm sorry. I should've told you sooner."
"And I, you," Will lamented. "I love you, too. I think I've loved you since I met you."
"I believe I loved you when I first saw you," Djaq nodded. "You're kind heart. Your handsome face."
"Your ability to fight so like a man, but in every way you are a beautiful woman," Will coughed. "If I'm to die, then I'm happy it is with you here."
Merlin looked away, almost ashamed at invading such a private moment. And yet, he was glad. Now he was all the more ready. He remembered the anguish, the missing part of himself, after Freya died. He could not allow anyone else to endure that agony if he could help it.
Merlin cleared his throat and the two glanced over to their audience. The wizard fixed Djaq with a knowing look in his determined eyes. With a short nod, Merlin confirmed and answered the question in her mind. Her irises alit as she stood and hurried to him.
"What will you tell the others?" She whispered.
"Nothing," Merlin murmured.
"What about Robin?"
"He told me not to use witchcraft," Merlin explained. "This isn't witchcraft. It's magic. He told me to do everything in my power, and I am going to."
"How will we explain it?" Djaq pressed.
"A new potion," Merlin shrugged. "I don't know. Do you think Will will tell them?"
"No," Djaq promised. "Will is a good man. As are you."
"I'm not so sure," Merlin said distantly, but then recovered his resolve. "Even if the others do find out, I can always leave." _I still plan to._
"I do not think it would come to that," Djaq urged.
"I know how people view magic," Merlin argued. "I've had to live with this secret my whole life. Very few have the same view as you."
"I think you'd be surprised," Djaq insisted. "We are all your friends."
"I've lost more than friendships for revealing my magic before," Merlin declared darkly. "I promised myself I would never use it again. But I can't let him die. I'll do this one thing and that'll be it."
"But you could do so much more." Djaq implored.
"You have no idea how much more," Merlin shook his head, his eyes and voice darkening. "You don't know how dangerous it is. I don't even know –"
Merlin stopped, hearing the screams of his past echo in his mind.
"Don't even know what?" Djaq prompted.
"I don't even know if this will work," Merlin finally revealed. "I – I could – I could kill him."
"He is already dying," Djaq pleaded.
"I know," Merlin sighed, "otherwise I wouldn't take the risk."
"What do you need?"
Merlin and Djaq hastily went about collecting the necessary ingredients, Merlin didn't need to look up the spell. He would never forget those ancient words. They were scarred onto his mind and heart for all eternity.
As he bent over the boy, his mind reeled back to the last time he had performed this spell. The last time he had performed any verbal incantations.
_"He's dead."_
_Merlin stared in shock at the king who had moments ago had breath in his lungs and life in his body. Now both were gone. The king was dead. His best friend's father was gone. At his own hands. He heard Arthur distantly, but couldn't quite comprehend the words._
_"This wasn't supposed to happen," was all he could force his clinched throat to croak out._
_Before Merlin could understand what had gone wrong, Arthur was charging at him, sword drawn. Merlin reacted on pure instinct._
_Thrusting a hand into the air,_ _Merlin watched in muted horror as his friend was flung across the room. He didn't have time to worry about Arthur though as the prince called for his guards. Merlin made for the door, his old bones protesting as he hobbled down the hall. He rounded a corner and was ready to down the potion and transform when a sword was placed against his chest._
_"Do_ not _move," Gwaine warned._
_"You must let me pass," Merlin demanded in his coarse voice._
_"I must?" Gwaine laughed._
_"I do not want to hurt youm" the elderly wizard warned._
_"Was that a threat?"_
_Merlin felt the tip of the blade slide from his chest to his neck. Gwaine was already shouting for guards when Merlin reluctantly released his magic to throw Gwaine away from him, and to the edge of a flight of stairs._
_Flashes of Morgana's tumbling down the steps attacked him._
_Merlin reached out to stop his friend from falling but it was too late. The knight went crashing down the stone stairwell backwards. The sorcerer sprinted to the top of the steps, staring down at the unconscious man in terror. And the dark stain that looked far too familiar to blood pooling by his skull._ | 04a86c2c22404c8c9030e8d85fb7597b | ['f5b28531a1c447aaa570813ab1655a61'] | > oh the drama! it wasn't going to originally be this dramatic! it was supposed to be a simple story filled with lots of fluff and then some suspense! now there is a big subplot and craziness happening! don't worry, i'm not just TOSSING things together without care! I've been doing research, etc. Kura06 from Tumblr has been bouncing ideas back and forth with me and she is responsible for a lot of the amazing ideas, including this chapter. She suggested this and I wasn't sure about it, not because it was a bad idea, but on myself writing it and fitting it in the story without making the story TOO dramatic. But then I thought, you guys LIKE the angst/drama! So, why not? And she helps me so much, I thought I'd put it in for her! you're probably getting sick of Billie being in danger, but I still wanted to write her idea! hope the rest of you enjoy it too!
_ _
_"I - I don't know."_
_Sherlock had barely freed the reluctant words from his mouth when the entire structure shook._
_The detective bolted for the door, skidding to a shocked stop in the hall._
_An entire corner of the building was gone._
_Or rather - blown up._
_If Sherlock had possessed any doubts - which, of course, he hadn't - over whether this was Moriarty's doing or not they certainly evaporated now._
_He could vaguely hear Lestrade barking commands and calling out on his radio._
_And then one name hit his ears and his senses sharpened._
_"Donovan? Donovan, do you copy?"_
_No response._
_Every single cell inside Sherlock exploded at once._
_Donovan. Sally Donovan. Sergeant Sally Donovan._
_Who was watching Billie._
_Billie._
_Sherlock stared wide eyed at the rubble and chaos for a solid second, as if he couldn't will his body into motion even if he tried. And then, just like that, he was off. Springing into a fit of action and shouting and running._
_"Billie!"_
_People were scrambling about, helping each other and searching the debris for others._
_"Sherlock! Over here!"_
_Sherlock snapped his head to the sound of Lestrade's calling, spinning on his heel and sprinting to where the man was bent over a body._
_Sally Donovan was at the center of the blast, her head raining red liquid and her eyes not entirely a part of this world._
_"Donovan?" Greg checked the woman over briefly and then called for help. "Can you hear me?"_
_"Yeah," she mumbled, blinking heavily._
_"Where's Billie?" Sherlock demanded, panic rather than poison in his voice as his eyes scoped the surrounding area._
_"I gave her to Simmons," Sally gasped. "I thought - I heard something -" her voice cracked and she let out what sounded like an agonizing cough. "I told Simmons to take her, just in case. I took Erickson and went to check it out. That's - when I saw it."_
_"Saw what?" Greg prompted._
_"The bomb." Sally breathed. "I found it and didn't even have time to get word to you before it blew. I'm sorry."_
_"It's alright," Greg nodded and glanced up to see Sherlock already frantically searching again._
_"Lestrade, it's Erickson," Anderson called out. "He's, he's dead."_
_Sherlock was barely listening. In truth, he had forgotten Anderson was still there among the small group of stragglers from the crime scene. A few hours earlier and the place had been packed with police. A few hours later, and it would've been crawling with photographers. This strike was deliberate. Timed._
No. Stop. Focus!
_The case wasn't important right then. All that mattered, all he could fill his mind with, was Billie. Finding Billie. Keeping her safe. Safe._
_She_ had _to be safe._
Please be safe.
_His shoe connected with something soft and Sherlock glanced down._
_And that was when the detective was nearly medically certain that his heart quite actually stopped._
_There, on the ground among the rubble, laid a stuffed dog, dressed as a pirate._
_Sherlock dropped to his knees as he spotted a patch of skin underneath a downed door. Pushing it aside, he gave a internal gasp._
_Simmons was on his back, his eyes wide and staring up at Sherlock. But not really. Those eyes wouldn't look at anyone, or anything, again._
_He was dead._
_Sherlock sprang to his feet like a wild animal, his head spinning every which way. Somewhere in his shouting for the child, he managed to claim Lestrade and the other's attention toward the dead man. Most of them were now too searching for the lost little girl, as everyone else had been located. Talking, shouting, debris being moved. So much noise. In his head too. Thoughts, fears, all screaming out. He couldn't concentrate. Couldn't focus. He felt as though he as spiraling, falling, into an abyss. Maybe he was screaming too. He couldn't be certain anymore._
_"Sherlock?"_
_Anderson was in front of the detective now, desperately attempting to draw his attention._
_"Sherlock!"_
_Sherlock's eyes skidded across the surface of the scene and then seemed to lift, finally settling on the man standing next to him._
_"Stop," Philip said in a way Sherlock didn't know he could speak. "Stop, Sherlock. Calm down."_
_"Calm down?" Sherlock spat. "Are you -"_
_"Be quiet, Sherlock," Anderson cut in far more boldly than he ever had before. "Everyone be quiet!" He turned to the team of people._
_When several didn't listen, Greg stepped toward the pair._
_"That's an order!" Lestrade repeated Anderson's command and the scene fell silent._
_"Listen to me, Sherlock," Philip continued, keeping hold of Sherlock's steady stare. "Think. You're the great detective, Sherlock Holmes! High functioning sociopath, remember? Put it all aside, and think."_
_Sherlock's eyes seemed to finally come into focus._
_"She's obviously not in the debris," he began as though he hadn't almost had an entire mental breakdown not a full second earlier._
_"Right," Anderson nodded, encouraging him._ |
dea1a1c57cc74aa686509b0272f5eba0 | ['f5f17dfdf1894914ae57e3bdbc98072c'] |
Covert Operations
**Author's Note:**
* For LINK.
> A tumblr prompt from Glynnisi: Glynnisi - How about ShieldShock, 37, SO open to smut. ;) “I want to hike up your skirt and take you right here.”
>
> This kind of got away from me, whoops.
Darcy fanned herself with a napkin and sipped at her drink. The music continued to _thumpthumpthump_ through the room, and she could see Jane and Nat still moving out on the dance floor. She’d been dancing for hours and it was high time for a drink and fresh air.
Steve caught her eye, waving over the crowd. He nodded toward the balcony, a question in his eyes, and she nodded in relief. Darcy skirted around the edges of the mass of people with muttered apologies as Steve cut his way through the dancers easily, meeting her at the door.
He greeted her with a slow, searing kiss. “You look gorgeous tonight.” Darcy’s cheeks warmed at the heat in his gaze.
“Not looking so bad yourself.” The deep blue shirt complemented his eyes, and his dark pants were perfectly fitted. _ Thank you, Tony’s tailor. _
Darcy winced as the crowd screamed in response to the DJ. “Outside? Please?”
“Of course.” He pulled the translucent glass door toward him and nudged her forward.
Darcy raced to the railing and leaned forward to rest her elbows on the ledge. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The cool night air was invigorating after the sweaty interior and fog machines.
“Oh my god that’s so much better.”
Steve chuckled low behind her and pressed up against her back. His shirt was soft and warm, and she leaned into his embrace.
“You know, I thought Tony was a party animal, but Nat can sure hold her own.”
Darcy snorted and turned to look at him. “The woman drinks liquor straight. She can give any of us a run for our money.”
Steve tipped his head, conceding the point. “True.” His right hand skimmed down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps. “But I think you win at dancing.” She turned back to look at the city lights and rest her head back on his chest. His other hand moved to her waist, then around to cup the curve of her ass through her skirt. “The way you move…” He squeezed her arm, gripping tight. He dipped his head low, breath tickling her ear. “I want to hike up your skirt and take you right here.”
Darcy gasped, raw need shooting through her like lightning. Steve pressed closer and she could feel just how much he wanted her. She tried to shift, to push back, but she was trapped between his solid heat and the unforgiving concrete barrier. Her breath hitched as her fingers gripped the rough surface and she found herself grinding back into him.
“Steve.” His name came out breathier than she meant it to.
“Fuck, you’d let me, wouldn’t you?” Steve reached around the top of her shirt into her bra, rolling her nipple between his fingers. Darcy could feel herself getting wet, and her face burned with a mix of shame and excitement. Steve knew her well.
“All our friends are on the other side of that door, but you’d let me pull up your skirt and touch you right here.” His free hand toyed with the hem of her pencil skirt, tugging it higher and higher until he reached her panties. He pinched her nipple hard once more, right as he slipped his fingers into her slit, and she bit back a cry.
“Dammit _ , _ Darce, you’re so wet.” he hissed, his voice strained with need. When he circled her clit with his finger she bucked forward but there was nowhere to go. He only pulled her back far enough to dip his fingers inside her, then resumed his teasing. “Darce, I need you to say it. You know the rules.”
“Ah!” She could tell him to stop right now and he would. He would fix her skirt and get them a cab and they would go home. _ But she didn’t want to _ . “Please _ , _ Steve. _ Please _ .” she begged. She needed to feel him inside her.
Steve sprung into action, releasing his fly with one hand and pulling up her skirt with the other. He paused with his hard length pressed up against her entrance. “Remember to stay quiet, you wouldn’t want anyone to hear you and get curious.”
Suddenly she remembered - heard the people walking below, the car driving down the street, the jingle of someone dropping their keys in front of the club. She froze, and Steve took the opportunity to thrust up into her. She flailed, then brought a hand up to smother her own cry.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” He teased her clit, drawing circles around it as he continued his shallow thrusts. The tension built up inside her fast, his fingers skillfully bringing her up to the edge.
“I’m so close.” Her breath came hard, and she struggled to brace herself against the rail. If someone looked up they would see her moving and guess what they were doing. “Don’t stop.”
Steve made a noise of satisfaction low in his chest. The rough concrete scratched her knees each time he thrust into her, and her palms were slick with sweat. | 3dd3747ee181464a975b1a65a542181f | ['f5f17dfdf1894914ae57e3bdbc98072c'] |
1. Darcy/Bucky/Steve (M)
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> For nobutsiriuslywhat - congrats on the milestone!!!! may I humbly request darcy/bucky/(and/or)steve (whatever you're feeling). nsfw? like, maybe some bdsm aftercare?
Darcy sunk deeper into the hot bath and sighed. It was the perfect cap to the evening. It was date night, and James and Steve had made a delicious dinner, and then for dessert…
They’d spent hours in the bedroom, playing and teasing _ (please! Steve!) _ Just when she thought she was done, that they couldn’t bring her to her peak again, they coaxed her over the edge once more. And then... _ (c’mon, doll, you can do it again) _ . Now she was wrung out, limbs heavy and weak, but her boys knew how to take care of her.
James drew up a bath with her favourite bubble bath and Steve carried her in, safe in his arms. As much as she enjoyed what came before, Darcy thought this might be her favourite part. They knew her well enough keep her on edge for hours, and also knew _ just _ how to take care of her afterward.
The three of them wedged together in the over-sized tub, legs tangled under the mass of bubbles. _ (Watch your elbows, punk.) _ Steve massaged her wrists where the ropes had dug in, and Bucky’s skilled fingers relaxed her tense leg muscles _. _ They smiled at her and she knew - this is love.
2. Darcy/Clint (M)
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> For Ragwitch on tumblr - CONGRATS ON THE MILESTONE!!! Can I have some Clint/Darcy romantic or fwb, redecorating? Smut is a-ok!
Darcy put down the sledgehammer with a _ thunk _ and waited for the dust to clear. The room was hot, and she was more than ready to take off the itchy dust mask and eye protection.
“Feelin’ better?”
Darcy turned to see Clint peering around the door frame. He’d pushed his own goggles on top of his head, and there were smudges of dirt on his face around where it had been worn.
“ _ So _ much better, thank you.”
Clint brought his hand out from behind his back to reveal a pair of dark glass bottles, wet from the cooler. “Break time?”
Darcy smiled. “That sounds perfect.” She leaned the long handle of the sledgehammer against what remained of the wall - she’d been very thorough - then stepped back and shook the dust out of her hair. She tugged goggles and mask over her head and tossed it on the floor beside her with the gloves.
Clint popped the lids and handed her a drink. She hopped up to sit on the old wood table wedged in the corner near the window, grateful for the rest and hope of fresh air after the work. Clint followed, taking a deep swig from his bottle. He stood beside her and looked out into the summer afternoon.
“So. You ready to talk about what’s bothering you?”
Darcy shrugged and kicked her legs. “Normal shit, really. Assholes at work that I can’t punch because it’s work and it’s frowned upon.”
“You know,” he twisted to look at her. She couldn’t help but notice the deep blue of his eyes, and the small bits of wood dust clinging to his hair. “You _ can _ talk to someone, right? There are people to take care of that kind of thing. It’s their actual job.” The corners of his eyes crinkled when he grinned at her. .
“Sure.” She tipped back, taking another deep swig. Condensation dripped from the bottle and hit her chest. Clint’s eyes flicked down, then back up to hers. He shrugged as if to say _ so sue me. _ She snorted into her drink. “But it’s _ way _ more fun to destroy one of your walls first.” she winked at him.
“True.” Clint sidled up close, hips between her knees. He placed his bottle on the table and leaned in, skimming his hands up her arms. ”And there’s always sex to help you stay calm.”
“Mhmm.” Darcy’s eyes fluttered closed as his hand caressed the back of her neck. “But who do I know that would help me out?” It came out breathy rather than the sassy like she’d aimed for.
Clint chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “I think I know someone who can help you.”
3. Darcy/Dean Winchester (M)
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> For georgiagirlagain - Follower milestone! Yay! Pretty please, Darcy /Dean, fwb, NSFW, playing pool
>
> Also thank you so much to CatrinaSL and Nix for the beta! <3
Darcy hadn’t heard from Dean Winchester in _ ages _ , so when he called to say he’d be in town the next day, she was surprised. And a bit relieved.
“You know,” she said in between sips of cheap beer. “After last time I wasn’t sure I’d see you again.”
He’d blown into town on some Secret Mission, and Darcy had recognized the look in his eyes as someone who was coming to terms with the inevitable. The sex had been frantic and intense, the kind of life-affirming fuck that made her worry it was a goodbye.
Dean lifted his shoulder in half a shrug, but stayed focused on the game. He drew back the cue and skillfully sent the ball ricocheting into the corner pocket.
“Well, I wasn’t sure either,” he admitted. “But things turned out all right.” He winked impishly and twisted to grab his beer from the table behind him.
Darcy didn’t see him often, but she knew him well enough by now to know he didn’t want to talk about it, so she just shrugged. She had her own Do Not Discuss list, after all. |
43e31b93bfad4f738d472476b4ff3b6a | ['f5f7fb6a50324951821ef3ac7b2d50e7'] | Flug rolled his hips in a way that made his thrusts seem relaxed and leisurely, as if he was taking his time to savor the moment.
Every time his dick slid into her, she could feel the slight tingle of pleasure building up between her legs, and she let a few more angry tears fall because of it.
He closed his eyes and let out a moan. “At least... you’re good enough... for this.”
She hated him. Oh, how she hated him. He was all that stood between her and Black Hat. She did her job perfectly and all he ever did was mess up. She could make decisions by herself. She wasn’t stupid. Why did he think she needed him to control her life? Why did he think he was in charge of her? And now, he gets to fuck her just because he wants to? Her blood was boiling.
Flug looked like he was in heaven. “Mmm... I needed this.” His eyes fluttered open to look down at her. He ran his hands down her front, making sure to brush over her pierced nipples before putting a hand on each side of her waist to pull her into his thrusts. “I bet you love this... don’t you? I know you fuck around. I’m sure you’ve wondered about me before... Why haven’t you ever tried anything?”
She glared at him. _‘Because I fucking hate you.’_
“You could’ve come to me... Now I bet you wish you had…” He spoke slowly in a low voice. “I would’ve fucked you good… I’m the best fuck you could ever have.” The table creaked under the weight of him and his ego.
“You love my dick inside of you, don’t you?” He looked down at her expectantly as if he wanted some sort of answer. She refused to comply, staring up at him with an unwavering glare.
He raised an eyebrow in warning and pushed deep into her. “I’m the best you’ve ever had... right?”
She didn’t move her head in the slightest.
She saw a flash of rage pass behind those goggles of his. One of his hands went to hold down her shoulder and the other gripped the edge of the tape on her mouth before he ripped it off in one violent motion. The rip echoed through the room. She grit her teeth at the burning pain and tried to fight back more hot angry tears as he leered over her screaming, “TELL ME I’M THE BEST!!”
She took this chance to gather her strength and spit at him as hard as she could.
The second it landed on his paper bag, the world stilled. Every motion, every sound, her own breathing just stopped. What was probably in reality only a fraction of a second, felt like minutes of staring into his shocked eyes. Then he moved faster than she could even register.
** _SLAP!_** She heard the back of his hand clap against her cheek before she felt the sting spread across her face like a wildfire. Her head went reeling to the right, the sound ringing in her ears. He slammed the same hand down on her neck and clenched tightly. She frantically tried to look back up at him, vision blurry and cheek burning, while his fingertips dug into her skin.
He scowled down at her. “You ungrateful BITCH!” He resumed his thrusting, but this time slamming in and out of her with a turbulent force. The table creaked loudly.
“I gave you everything! I MADE you!! Without me, you would be NOTHING! The LEAST you could do is give.. me.. respect!”
The way his fingertips dug into her skin, the burn of her face and mouth, the way her sweaty body clung uncomfortably to the metal table, the rubbing of his denim back and forth chafing her thighs raw, how deep he kept driving into her, violently stretching her... It was too much. She tried to scream but his hand blocked her airway. The tears were flowing freely at this point, pooling on the table and soaking her hair.
“It should be ME that you are obsessed with! It should be ME that you fantasize about! It should be ME that you beg on your hands and knees for! It should be ME that gets to fuck your tight pussy every night like the whore! you! are!!” His thrusts enunciated his words.
He was pouring sweat, his bag and shirt sticking to his skin. He sat up just long enough to lift his shirt over his head, carefully maneuvering it so it didn’t damage his bag, before putting his hands back on Demencia’s neck and waist.
Demencia noticed he was getting winded and realized, both thankfully and horrifyingly, that he was probably close to finishing.
It wasn’t long before she felt his dick twitch inside her and she braced herself by squeezing her eyes shut and clenching her fist so hard that her fingernails drew blood from her palm.
He came with a shaky moan and clutched her neck tighter instinctively as he rode out his orgasm.
She tried to distract herself on his hand taking away her oxygen supply but she couldn’t reject the feeling of his hot cum streaming into her.
As his high came to an end, he let go and collapsed on top of her, panting heavily.
She stared at the ceiling, breathing deep now that her airway wasn’t blocked, and felt bile creeping up her throat. She shuddered at the feeling of him still inside of her, his sweaty skin stuck to hers, and the way his rough paper bag scratched against her body.
Flug rested his head against her chest and absentmindedly traced one of her pierced nipples with his index finger. “Don’t worry about getting pregnant. I took that ability away from you when I added the lizard DNA,” he added casually.
She didn’t respond. She didn’t know how to or how to feel, not after what just happened. She could already feel bruises forming on her neck and hips.
“Well, I guess it’s time to get back to work.” Flug sat up on his elbow. He peered down at her and caressed her tear-stained, reddened cheek. “You won’t remember any of this... but, maybe we can have some more fun once I’m finished.”
With what little strength she had left, she fought one last time as he leaned over her to reach the table-side tray. He picked up a slightly glowing syringe and jammed it into the side of her neck roughly.
She screamed out hoarsely as she felt the needle puncture her skin, and as the taste of saline invaded her senses and liquid fire raced through her veins, she barely heard him above her, “This time you’ll be perfect,” and the world was lost to darkness.
**Author's Note:**
> Wow, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below. Thanks again! | 820d5997390e47589d730bc174d252b0 | ['f5f7fb6a50324951821ef3ac7b2d50e7'] |
Broken Pieces
**Author's Note:**
> Y'all. I'm sorry. I adore Flug and Demencia but I wanted to challenge myself to write something dark so here we go. Please check out those tags before you consider reading. May Alan have mercy on my soul. 18+ only please!
She awoke to cold. Everything was cold, particularly her entire backside. How long had she been out?
Demencia quickly became aware of her condition. Her right temple was pounding, she had what felt like tape covering her mouth, and when she tried to move, she realized her wrists and ankles were restrained. She tried opening her eyes and immediately winced at the bright light overhead, so she turned her head to her left and opened them again where it was darker. After blinking a few times, her vision focused and landed on Flug, who was standing a few feet away in the shadows.
Even though his gaze was piercing, she looked everywhere else but him to figure out where she was. The lab. She should have figured. She looked down at herself to notice she was on one of his exam tables and had been stripped of her clothing. She pushed the thought aside and shot a glare to Flug who was now giving her an amused look.
“Do you remember where you were before this?” His tone was cool and even. She tried to recall but nothing came to mind. Everything that had happened today was a haze. Her expression and hesitance must’ve answered his question.
“Good, it works then,” he said more to himself than her, and she noticed he was holding a clipboard when he lifted it up to presumably write down some notes. After a few scribbles, he strode over to his desk on her right and put the clipboard down before turning and leaning against the edge. He crossed his arms and studied her for a moment before speaking again, “I’m getting really tired of your shit, Demencia.”
She wanted to laugh, but the tape over her mouth and his icy stare silenced her. She gave him a bored look so he would get on with whatever he wanted to say.
“You wrecked my lab... again. This time setting back three of my deadlines with the damage you caused,” he continued to speak calmly, despite the irritated expression locked onto her.
“I made you into what you are and this is the thanks I get? Well,” he shook his head, “not anymore. I’m going to fix you.”
He... what? She raised an eyebrow, confused at what he meant. Her puzzled expression must have appeased him because his demeanor relaxed. He turned to a tray next to her table that was holding a variety of tools and supplies and picked up a syringe filled with clear liquid.
As he began to tap the side of the syringe, she started to thrash against her restraints violently. He whipped his attention back to her, goggles catching the reflection of the light eerily. The longer she struggled, the more she realized she wasn’t doing anything to better her situation.
Flug watched her fight for a moment before grasping her right forearm. He inserted the needle into the crook of her arm forcibly and injected the liquid slowly.
She jolted at the intrusion, and as the cold sensation traveled her veins, her struggle decelerated. Her muscles started to feel heavier and her eyelids drooped slightly. A tranquilizer...? She looked up at him through lidded eyes as he removed the needle.
“While I wish I could keep you fully awake during this, I need you to be a little more still,” he placed the syringe back on the tray.
“After I perform the necessary enhancements, you won’t remember anything that happened here. You’ll wake up after I’m done and be a better version of yourself... Not a destructive, disrespectful, obsessive brat. You’ll be what you SHOULD’VE been.”
Demencia looked at him with as much disdain as her face could show at the moment. He was just jealous that she was successful and he wasn’t, that Black Hat gave her more attention than him, that she could actually-
Her thoughts shut down completely when he reached across her to lay his gloved hand on her bare side. The cold rubber pricked at her skin. Her eyes flicked down to the hand before moving back to his face where she was met with a dull, but chilling stare.
“You know, I actually kind of like you when you are quiet.” He muttered the words in a tone which suggested he was bored, but it felt unfamiliar. _‘Distant,’_ she settled on. He ran his hand down the curve of her side before stopping where her hip protruded and rubbed it idly with his thumb. Her eyes were locked on his. She held her breath.
“I think you could have been one of my finest experiments actually, if only you weren’t so stupid. Maybe we could have even been friends.” He let his eyes wander down the length of her naked body before adding quietly, “Maybe I could’ve actually loved you.”
His hand slid off her hip and moved in between her legs. Her eyes went wide when he slid his gloved fingers across the lips of her pussy before massaging it. “Maybe you would’ve thought about _me_ on those long nights when you pleasured yourself...” His rubbing and tone got increasingly harder. “Maybe you’d scream out MY name instead of our boss’s.” The rubber of his gloves pulled uncomfortably against her folds. She cringed at the way they squeaked. |
9e1a3fb7f6d74bf99ebddffe1c8be8f1 | ['f5fc66a1efe8457d9234122942fc58ef'] | Kyle yawned quietly and settled deeper into his seat. Dan touched his arm lightly, "You alright?"
Kyle looked at his arm, where Dan's fingers still rested, and then up to Dan in surprise. A small smile threatened to break through before he frowned and pulled his arm away.
"Yeah fine," he mumbled, pulling his hood up and hiding his face from view.
"I could always give you Joni's number, I hate to repeat myself, but I do have it," S _ee, Will, ever supportive. Dick'ead_
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> P.S. is everyone ok with the chapters lengths? Should I split them up a bit more? I know they're quite long :|
6. While The Waves Were Dragging Me Underneath
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> ***Warning***
> Explicit content ... pretty much from this chapter onward, I'd say.
>
> Lots of swears as per usual, Dan has a potty mouth.
> Plus, how does the saying go - this chapter contains adult themes and sexual content from the onset and throughout (so pretty much all the good stuff)
>
> You have been warned <3
_*_
_Weeks, weeks he's been ignoring me and now he's acting like he's my best fucking buddy all of a sudden?_
Dan was fuming. Or at least, he would be if he wasn't so desperate for the attention. The past weeks had been torture. Kyle had been distant, elusive. He ignored Dan as much as possible, avoided him and only acknowledged him when absolutely necessary.
Just the day before they had been out drinking after a full day of interviews and radio performances, Dan temporarily forgot that he and Kyle were sort of, maybe, fighting. He threw his arm around Kyle for a group photo and he practically jumped out of his skin, shoving Dan away like he was made of fire. Kyle, somehow, even managed to put Coop and Woody between them for the photo. It really hurt, but Kyle simply looked over his shoulder and threw him a dismissive, "sorry mate, didn't see you there".
Dan was still reeling from the incident the next day. He was so done with this whole situation. He didn't need Kyle. He was getting enough attention from other people, he didn't need to be pining over someone who clearly didn't want him. Could never want him. Hell, at the moment it seemed like Kyle didn't even _like_ him.
That was until Dan arrived at the rehearsal studio, it was late in the afternoon and supposed to be their day off. But as usual band commitments had to come first. As soon as Dan walked through the door Kyle's dulcet tones exploded around him.
"Here he is! Our very own movie star!" Kyle rejoiced as Dan walked into the room, "Come here, Daniel Craig! I'm such a huge fan," he laughed and patted the sofa next to him. _What the fuck?!_
"Do not compare _him_ to that god-like creature!" Will protested.
After weeks of waiting the Pompeii video was finally ready. The record label had sent them a preview copy ahead of general release the following week. Dan was quietly excited. He'd loved the idea of setting the video in this surreal, derelict city within a dystopian, post-apocalyptic world. He couldn't wait to shoot it. That was, up until he got to the set, only to be told that he was the main character. Not only did he have to act _and_ lip-sync... he had to run. Easily three of his top ten most hated things.
Thankfully the director had assured him that he wouldn't actually be in it that much.
"Your hair looks really good," Kyle said quietly as the video started. Dan's hand automatically rubbed the back of his neck. It had been a while but he still wasn't used to the shaved hair he found there. He missed his long wild hair, but even he had to admit it looked better short.
By the time the final shot played out, a close-up of his face with black eyes and quiff blowing in the wind, Dan actually thought he might die of cringe. There was a long pause after it finished, the guys waiting a moment before all bursting into raucous laughter.
Dan couldn't help it, he fell apart laughing as well.
"Every shot was you Dan!" Will was holding his stomach and tears pricked in his eyes.
"It's awesome!" Kyle said and everyone agreed.
"Yeah it's great... apart from your running," Woody added.
"Well, yeah that goes without saying," Kyle laughed. He nudged Dan with his elbow and gave him a little wink.
The guys continued to laugh and rib Dan for his incredible acting skills. They insisted on watching it again and again, eventually managing to have a half-decent discussion on it. Over a few beers it was agreed that the video was actually pretty fucking sweet (Dan's acting aside) and Dan rang the label to pass on their approval. It probably wasn't the best idea to talk to your bosses when you are a few drinks worse for wear, but they didn't seem to notice and thanked Dan for his quick response.
The guys decided to reconvene at the pub down the road. They were all on their way to drunk at that point and didn't want to let the good mood end.
Kyle was back to his energetic, over-friendly self. He was talking to Dan like nothing had happened, he was happy and talkative, commanding the conversation. Kyle was actively getting Dan involved, asking for his input and opinion on various matters as they set the world to rights. Dan hated how good it felt to have his Kyle back, he was practically glowing under Kyle's gaze. He was complimentary and tactile and everything Dan loved and missed about him. | 421cf4362e474a09973f393221188f2f | ['f5fc66a1efe8457d9234122942fc58ef'] | And Kyle would say, "You're not stupid, you're perfect," and maybe they'd both cry, or maybe they wouldn't. But Dan would grab him and kiss him and hold him like he was never letting go.
However, they weren't in a film. This wasn't a fantasy. It was real life, and Dan's drinking got worse and his disappearing became more frequent and people were starting to notice. That was until he came back. Just like that.
But Kyle was not the person to bring Dan back. No. Joni was.
Joni, with all her cleverness and charm, her quick comebacks and her weird sense of humour that made Dan go all silly (and made Kyle eye-roll so hard they nearly fell out his head).
Kyle and Dan found an almost plateau. There was less flirting, less touching. But less fighting too. Dan wasn't angry anymore and he stopped drinking all the time. So, that was good, Kyle supposed, but still. Kyle had so wanted to be the hero in Dan's story.
Dan and Joni were unbearable together. Like, that's not Kyle being bitter either, it’s just the truth. It's like they had their own language. They talked in quotes that no one else had ever heard of, they had catch phrases, they did bits and accents and would shout at each other and laugh obnoxiously loud, and just be... awful, actually.
Kyle could never keep up, he tried at first but, honestly? He hated it.
That used to be _him_ and Dan, "Oh no, the terrible twosome are on one again," they'd say, "Who gave Kyle coffee?" they'd moan when they got all hyperactive, "Great, the Chuckle Brothers are here."
Dan started writing again, he was hanging out with them all and encouraging them to get out and about whilst on tour. He was back to his sweet, awkward, funny self.
Kyle loved him so much. And Joni knew! She _fucking_ knew.
That pissed Kyle off more than anything. No one had come close to catching Kyle out before, he was stealth, he was covert, he was fucking Jack Bauer and Jason Bourne combined.
But somehow, Joni _f_ _ucking_ knew.
"So, what's going on with you and Dan?" Joni said in that shitty, hipster burrito shop. It was when they all went out for lunch, after her and Dan fucked for the first time.
"Nothing?" Kyle stuttered, his heart practically jumped out of his chest.
"Come on, you knew it was me in his room this morning. Were you trying to embarrass him or?" she asked all quiet and concerned. That pissed Kyle off more than anything. He was being a dick! Why was she being nice to him?
She took a deep breath before continuing, "Look, I don't want to get in the middle of anything. If you say it's not OK, I'll back off. No big deal," she smiled and Kyle could have cried.
"I've got a girlfriend!" he practically screamed at her.
"OK?" Joni said, as if that changed fucking nothing at all.
"He can fuck whatever he wants!" Kyle said and walked away. That was way too harsh. He felt like a prick.
After that there was no going back. Every time Kyle would get all pissy for no reason or he was a dick to Joni she would just look at him all knowing and concerned, and never, ever rubbed it in his face.
Like that time he tried to break them up. That was a particularly low point for Kyle.
The last day of Glastonbury they were doing a surprise set. Dan was freaking out, but like, way more than usual. Even though all their friends were there; Dan's house mates, Kyle's uni mates and all the girlfriends, Dan wanted Joni there. Which if Kyle let himself think about it, was fair enough. But at the same it time pissed him off to no end. Why did he need Joni's reluctant support when he had Kyle's full, continuous and unwavering support?
Joni damn-near broke Dan's heart when she said she wasn't coming to the show. (Like, did she not know how lucky she was? He was practically throwing himself at her, begging her to be his girlfriend and she kept pushing him away!)
Kyle couldn't stand it anymore, he couldn't just sit back and watch Dan get rejected again and again. Granted Kyle didn't know Joni that well, and she clearly had her own shit going on, but couldn't she see that Dan needed her? When Kyle saw Dan's little face after she walked away, he just had to step in. He didn't have a choice, right?
He tried to warn her off, they were in Dan's house and Kyle made a flippant comment about Dan's slutty past. Joni just looked at him, with a little pity but mostly sympathy and said, "I know what you're doing," and Kyle lost it. How dare she!? She had no fucking clue.
"Of course you do, clever little Joni, you've got everyone all figured out," he snarled at her.
Dan burst through the door then, looking like a deer in headlights. He ran straight to her, of course, and tried to get between them both. Kyle stood for a second watching Joni looking so fucking self-righteous, before he couldn't stand it anymore and pushed passed them both, slamming the front door behind him.
Just once Kyle wished Joni would be a bitch so he could tell himself she was a bitch and then he wouldn't feel so bad about hating her.
But even without Kyle's meddling they didn't work out. Which didn't surprise Kyle all that much.
Kyle waited for Dan to notice him. For years.
Watched on as Dan played out some fantasy of being a womanising front-man. Rode out the storm of Dan’s doomed 'relationships', waiting in the wings to pick up the pieces. |
5cdd6918576043b9abe55268bf22be83 | ['f60c9d6377b346c69a5313e8b3fdc332'] |
1. Prince Charming?
**Author's Note:**
> This fic is currently working under the premise of a nameless reader/OC as the protagonist. I have used gender neutral pronouns so far, and wherever you see a _____ you can plop in any name you choose! The MC does have a set quirk, but it doesn't come up for a few more chapters.
As a hero working in the background for a small agency, it’s easy to go unnoticed. While some would feel bitter for missing out on the limelight granted to their flashier counterparts, that is not the case for _____. As they duck into the cramped venue the smell of cheap beer and sweat fills their nostrils. It isn’t their normal haunt, but the bar instantly feels comfortable-- the lineup for the night a definite plus. A half smile sprawled across their face, _____ makes their way to the bar and orders a whiskey before finding a bare spot to lean against the wall as the band onstage tunes their instruments.
~~~~~~
Down the bar, unknown to _____, a man sits watching them. They don’t know who the person who just came in is, but they look familiar to him. He is drawn in by the carefree smile and bounce in their gait. They stand in sharp contrast to the heavy eye makeup, piercings running up their ears, and the patch covered jacket tied around their waist.
The man raises an eyebrow as _____ tips their glass to the bartender before sauntering over to the wall near the main floor. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he watches _____ swirl their drink and down half of it in one gulp before turning their attention to the band fiddling with their instruments, taking small slips periodically. They’ve piqued his interest. The way they hold the glass so delicately but have their foot planted firmly on the wall behind them, the mild expression on their face and the way their eyes shine clearly with excitement as every minute passes.
He orders another beer before sliding off the bar stool and sauntering to where _____ stands.
“Hey.”
~~~~~~~
_____ looks over from the stage to the man standing before them.With a tilt of their head, _____ offers a confused but welcoming response.
“Uh… hey?”
“You seem familiar, d’you come here a lot?” the man muses as he spins to lean back against the wall next to _____, taking a swig of his beer.
“Not particularly,” _____ chuckles out. They’d ignore the pickup line for now, “Although if you are here for the music and not the beer, you may have seen me in a couple other small venues across the city.”
The man lets out a hum in acknowledgement as he lowers the bottle from his lips and glances over at the band giving a thumbs up to the audio tech. The set would be starting soon.
“Guess that makes sense. I do end up at a lot of shows in this scene.”
“Really?” _____’s brows knit in thought over whether or not they had seen the man before.
Realizing they hadn’t, _____ takes a moment to truly look at the man next to them. He is tall, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. His style is simple but accentuates the bicolor of his skin and-- what looks to be-- a multitude of staples (piercings, maybe?) across his body.
“I guess I’ll have to keep an eye out for you after tonight,” they bubble with a nervous chuckle, “I mean, if it’s alright? I don’t know too many people into this kind of thing...”
The smirk finds its way back to the man’s face and his eyes narrow ever so slightly.
“Sure. Name’s Dabi,” he croons as he holds out his bottle, “To new acquaintances.”
A toothy grin spreads across _____ ‘s face as they clink their glass to the beer. Their chest throbs at the small gesture and the first chord from the stage.
“_____. The pleasure is mine~.”
2. Under Your Skin
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> MC gets the faintest glimmer of Dabi's personality and it goes about as well as you'd expect.
The night continued as well as _____ could have hoped. They had seen a great band, let out a lot of the stress from work, and-- somehow-- made a new friend in an interesting, if somewhat aloof, guy. As the eveniong went on they drank and made small talk between songs, mostly about their interests and the underground scene. As the pair walk out of the venue into the humidity of the city, _____ pulls out their phone to check the time as Dabi continues their conversation. _____ grimaces at the sudden bright light-- and the slew of missed messages in the group chat with their best friends.
“There are a lot of spots here in town I think you would like. Kind of ‘if you’re not looking, you won’t see it’ places. If you aren’t doing anything tomorrow night…?” Dabi raises an eyebrow in _____’s direction, “Everything cool?”
“Yeah,” _____ sighs as they swipe open the app to assess the damage, their fingers idly scrolling as they talk, “My friends got their schedules for the next couple weeks and it looks like tomorrow is the only day we all have off and can get together for a while. Damn, I was getting really excited to explore, too…”
“Well if it’ll get you that down…” Dabi extends his hand with a wink. “Here. I’ll give you my number and you can hit me up the next time you’re free and looking for some fun.”
A faint blush rises to _____’s cheeks as they stand there blinking at Dabi. _He’s like, an open book. I can’t believe he just did that!_ They turn their attention back to their phone and close the messaging app before pulling open a new contact and handing over their phone.
“I… okay.” | 52c316a801aa4e29add22630f2fa8a2d | ['f60c9d6377b346c69a5313e8b3fdc332'] | Kyoya nodded and shut the door before heading into the main room, folding his coat and setting it in the closet before putting his bag down. He re-entered the kitchen and brought the ramen to the kotatsu as Haruhi measured out the tea leaves, the water already starting to bubble in the kettle. After setting the food out for the both of them, Kyoya found himself a comfortable spot opposite your notes under the kotatsu and pulled his own from his bag. He smiled as he leafed through the pages. The small apartment was quiet, but comforting. Alive. Warm.
Haruhi entered the room shortly after, two steaming mugs of tea in her hands. She placed them on the table before snuggling back under the kotatsu, her knees just brushing Kyoya’s. Rolling her shoulders first, she gathered her notes into a slightly neater pile and pulled her bowl of ramen closer. Kyoya took a sip of his tea as he noticed the content smile on Haruhi’s face.
A lazy half smile pulled at his lips as he felt his cheeks flush ever so slightly with warmth. Whether it was the tea, the kotatsu, a combination of the two, or something else entirely he didn’t know, but he didn’t mind. He set his mug down and pulled his own bowl closer as he locked eyes with the girl across from him.
“The tea is delicious. Shall we?”
“Yeah, let’s! The sooner we eat the sooner we can focus on studying, right?”
The duo chuckled in unison and started on their ramen, the only sounds between them the clink of tableware and the slight slurping of noodles.
2. Watching
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Studying together _seemed_ like a good idea, but maybe it would be more of a distraction than a help...
The now empty bowls of ramen sat in the sink as Haruhi and Kyoya’s notes spread out across the table as they studied. Aside from the shuffle of paper and the occasional bubbling of the kettle, the only sounds were ambient. A gust of wind here, a car passing on the street below there, the gentle hum of the kotatsu… Haruhi didn’t even think the library could be this quiet, and she made a mental note to that Kyoya for suggesting staying in later.
She looked up from her notes for a second to look at the boy across from her. Kyoya’s head was down slightly, and in the space between his glasses and face Haruhi could just see the gentle fan of long lashes. His normal aloof expression was replaced with one of unbarred focus, the mischievous glint in his eye now a soft determination as his gaze shifted across the page. The pen in Kyoya’s long fingers seemed to write with an unnatural grace and smoothness, and Haruhi wondered if that was on his behalf or if the pen itself was worth more than her apartment.
Before she knew it, Haruhi found herself-- chin in her hand, elbow propped on the kotatsu-- smiling at the sight before her. The way Kyoya would purse his lips and furrowed his brows at certain words, and rolls his eyes at others. How he would roll his shoulders and occasionally run a hand through his hair. The care he took in pushing back his glasses when they fell too far down his nose. And before she knew it, Haruhi found herself blushing at the smirk that grew on Kyoya’s face as he blinked and locked eyes with her over his glasses.
“Haruhi, I don’t mind the staring,” he drawled, amusement evident in his voice, “but you should at least _try_ to study as you do so.”
What started as a small blush spread like wildfire across Haruhi’s face as she sat upright and dropped her hands to her lap. _He noticed?_ she thought. _How long ago did he notice? How long have I just been sitting here?_
Kyoya chuckled, “You aren’t subtle, but it’s one of the many things that makes you cute, Haruhi.”
“Wha--..? I... “ Haruhi stammered as her face grew hotter and her gaze dropped back to her notes “I’m sorry I don’t know what got into me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so relaxed and… it’s kind of nice? You always have this cool facade during school or club outings and I guess I wanted to take advantage of seeing what you’re like when your guard is down… I’m sorry.”
Kyoya rested his own chin on his hand and reached the other over the table to lightly ruffle Haruhi’s hair.
“There’s no need for you to apologize. The only reason I let my guard down so much is because you make it so I can. It’s nice, sitting here with you. Even with how quiet it is, I don’t feel the need to fill silence. Your presence is-- simply put-- the most relaxing thing I have yet experienced.”
Haruhi nodded as she tried to will away the blush across her cheeks and dared to glance up. Kyoya’s smirk had been replaced by a gentle smile, and Haruhi could swear that his eyes-- while still playful-- were brighter than normal. They were soft, but sparkled with emotion that she couldn’t quite pin. If she had asked, Kyoya would tell her straight out: admiration, longing, thankfulness, content… Perhaps he would even be so bold as to confess that the one feeling he felt around her more than any other was the slow burning fire of love.
As their eyes met Kyoya’s smile grew wider. Were he a weaker man, those big brown eyes of Haruhi’s and the lingering pink of embarrassment on her face would melt not only his heart but his whole body along with it...
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Geez, this chapter is short.
> I've been getting slammed with work lately and have been mad tired but... it's something. |
2d7983508732419b8690be30f5597d3b | ['f62d125238d24d10af0bb1bf9ae630b8'] | Sherlock fidgeted in the back of a taxi as it made its way through London towards the location indicated by his homeless network. The car was navigating the streets far too slowly, and the cab driver had gotten so fed up with Sherlock’s ‘suggestions’ that he’d turned the radio up loudly. Sherlock had ceased getting useful updates several minutes ago, and he tossed his phone across the back seat in a fit of irritation. Focus, he had to focus. Sherlock clamped his eyes shut and forced his mind to run through the litany of facts at his disposal.
John was last seen leaving the taxi with Richards seven point five minutes ago, heading towards an abandoned warehouse. John appeared unharmed at the time, although accounts conflicted on whether or not Richards appeared to be armed with a gun. Richards was at least six inches taller than John. John’s height and stature led many to underestimate him to their own detriment, since John was positively lethal in hand to hand combat. John had begun working out sporadically during the past six months in a fit of middle-aged hysteria, and despite a half-hearted commitment to the regime he’d still managed to increase his overall muscle mass by a small percentage. Where Richards may be cunning, John was experienced, and if John waited for the right opportunity….
Sherlock’s phone buzzed where it had fallen forward onto the floorboards, the prolonged vibration indicating a call rather than a text. Sherlock reached over to snatch it up, glancing at the screen before answering immediately. “John.”
“Wrong,” a man’s voice that was decidedly not John’s replied, sounding fairly smug. “You’re getting all sorts of things wrong lately. It’s kind of disappointing.”
Sherlock set his jaw, forcing his tone to sound flippant. “Hello ‘Nate’.”
“I think we got off on the wrong foot last time.” Sherlock could hear Nathaniel Richards chuckle at what he clearly thought was a witty allusion to Sherlock’s veiled threat during their previous encounter. Sherlock now regretted that he hadn’t followed through with it. “I’ve just been having a nice chat with your little boyfriend. He’s hot when he’s angry, have you noticed that?”
Sherlock flinched at the mention of John, not bothering to school his expression when the only witness was a disinterested cab driver. Eight minutes had now elapsed from the last sighting of John. Sherlock had to forcibly stop his mind from racing through a list of injuries that could have been inflicted on John in that period of time.
“I’m assuming this interlude has a point.” Sherlock articulated each word sharply, feigning boredom. It was already too late to pretend as though John meant nothing to him, but at the very least he could keep Richards from realizing that he might as well have Sherlock’s own beating heart in his hands. “Are you going to reach it eventually?”
“What if it doesn’t?” Richards’ voice had a hollow ring to it, as though they were standing in a vast space. Sherlock mentally mapped the area, estimating the amount of time it would take to reach their location— ten minutes at least, but it could be as many as twelve at the rate the driver was hitting every stoplight. “What if I just want to kill him while you listen, unable to do a thing to stop it?”
“Then I would say you’re not very original.” Sherlock sighed audibly, wracking his brain for topics of conversation to keep the man talking. John was still alive, then— which meant that the longer he distracted Richards, the better the chances John had of staying that way until Sherlock reached them. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your unmitigated malice, anyway? Did I send your fiancé to prison? Insult your mother?”
“You think _you’re_ original, then? The world’s only ‘consulting detective’. You’re pathetic.” Richards’ voice rose slightly with an agitated disdain, exposing a clear crack in the man’s calm façade. Exploiting it was risky, because provoking him would make him more erratic and therefore more likely to injure John in a fit of pique. However, it would also leave Richards vulnerable to making mistakes.
“Am I? Do elaborate.”
“Moriarty was at it years before you came along, doing the same thing only better. He probably had his network set up before you even thought up the idea in one of your drug induced hallucinations.”
Sherlock raised an eyebrow slightly at the mention of Moriarty, a name he hadn’t heard in some time and had hoped to finally be rid of. Richards had no actual connection to Moriarty, or Sherlock would have known about it already. “And I take it you’re an expert on the topic.”
“I’ve done my research,” Richards said, and Sherlock rolled his eyes. A misguided disciple, then. It was tiresome that even after years in the grave, the memory of Moriarty still hovered about like some malevolent spirit persuading weak minded souls to take up his cause. “Your idiotic fan club was good for something. They were a wealth of information even if Anderson thinks you’re some kind of god. They’ve got it the wrong way around, though. You didn’t beat Moriarty. He ended things on his own terms, which meant he was cleverer than you by miles.”
“And I suppose _you_ think you’re cleverer than the both of us put together,” Sherlock said with a disdainful sigh that he made sure to project loudly. “I hate to ruin your fantasy, but strangling incapacitated women and posing their bodies in a pretentious tableau hardly puts you on par with a consulting criminal mastermind.”
“That was just to get your attention.” Richards’ voice dropped into a sudden calm that Sherlock found more alarming than his erratic worship of Moriarty. “Now I’m going to finish what Moriarty never could. I’m going to kill you both, starting with this one here.” | 6412baee8e3442d890206963adac422c | ['f62d125238d24d10af0bb1bf9ae630b8'] |
Indecent
**Author's Note:**
> So I have a few other ‘serious’ fics I’m currently working on, including a third installment in The Descent series… but then this happened instead. I guess sometimes boys just want to have fun.
>
> I guess if you really wanted to, you could place this in my Descent universe, but it stands alone either way. Also, as a heads up, my last ‘explicit’ rating was not really all that explicit. This one is. You have been warned!
* * *
When Spock had been engaged in intimate relations with Lieutenant Uhura, he had always been impressed by how respectful and intuitive she was in regards to his own level of comfort. She would bring up a matter a total of one time, and if she discovered that a particular act was something he found distasteful or unbecoming, she would tactfully drop the subject and never broach the matter again.
It did not come as a surprise in the least that Jim Kirk’s approach was entirely the opposite.
“Come on,” Kirk murmured in what Spock had learned to recognize as the tone of voice the captain employed when he was at his most persuasive. In circumstances such as this one, in which they were entirely alone in the captain’s quarters with both of them only half-dressed and Jim currently draped over Spock with his mouth pressed against the Vulcan’s ear, his voice often took on an additional quality most resembling that of a low purr. “Sex is supposed to be ‘indecent’. That’s the whole point.”
“I believe the primary intent of sexual intercourse in all species is successful procreation, except in situations such as this where the focus is entirely recreational—“
“Oh my god, Spock,” Kirk breathed out a soft puff of warm air against Spock’s neck as he buried his face there momentarily. “Just let me blow you. I promise it’ll be awesome.”
“Since this is the seventh time you have initiated this discussion in regards to our sexual congress,” Spock replied with an even tone, despite the fact that he did briefly close his eyes to find clarity, “I believe I am correct in assuming that you will not relent until you have persuaded me on the topic.”
“Just try it once,” Jim murmured in that same highly persuasive tone, letting his lips trail down Spock’s already heated skin following the curve of his neck. Spock always found it difficult to think logically when Jim was wrapped around him like this, straddling his lap and positively thrumming with a heady mixture of lust-want-desire-pleasure where their bare skin pressed together. “If you hate it, I promise I’ll never even _think_ about it again.” Jim looked up at him now, locking their eyes and lofting an eyebrow in a mischievous parody of Spock’s own stock expression. “You won’t hate it, though.”
Breathing out a short, controlled sigh, Spock could tell from the gleam of triumph in Jim’s eyes that he knew he’d already won. “I merely do not wish for you to degrade yourself on my behalf—“
“I told you, it’s not degrading if I _want_ to do it.” Jim was already slipping down, gently parting Spock’s legs to settle on his knees between them. Spock stayed where he was perched on the edge of the captain’s large bed, his back straight and both hands now gripping the mattress a little harder than was strictly necessary. Jim’s breath was hot on Spock’s stomach as he trailed open-mouthed kisses downwards, stopping only at the clasp of his pants. “And I do want.” Jim canted his eyes upwards again, his fingers tracing lightly over the growing presence beneath the fabric but clearly waiting for permission to continue further. “I really, really want.”
Spock found his faculties of speech slightly more difficult to access than usual as he took in the picture that Jim presented, kneeling on the floor in front of him with naked want bare in his eyes. It did not take a telepath to know that Jim’s desire was sincere, not when it radiated from him so blatantly. When Spock finally rediscovered his vocal abilities, his voice was quiet as he said simply, “Alright.”
Kirk’s grin was fast and bright, like a comet streaking across the horizon, as he busied himself with the task of unclasping Spock’s pants and tugging them off. “I still can’t believe you’ve never done this before,” Kirk murmured against Spock’s skin, already pressing his mouth to the heated pulse point on the inside of the Vulcan’s thigh. “I’m gonna make this so good for you, you have no idea.”
Spock already had many occasions on which to experience Jim’s behavior in regards to sexual acts, and it did not surprise him in the least that this man was rarely silent. Even when he did not have anything remotely relevant or of consequence to convey, Jim Kirk’s mouth was always busy-- be it with random observations, hoarse expletives, or simply wordless sounds of pleasure. Spock had come to expect and even enjoy the running narrative his lover clearly felt compelled to make, especially once Jim made it clear he had no expectations for Spock to reciprocate. He seemed happy enough to let Spock experience things in his own taciturn way, although he always seemed remarkably pleased with himself when he managed to crack the Vulcan’s control enough for even the slightest sound or sigh to escape.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful, you know that?” Jim purred as he released Spock from his regulation briefs, working over the length with his hands in a way that he already knew the Vulcan found deliciously obscene. Somehow this man had a way of pushing Spock’s boundaries further than he ever imagined, but he had never yet regretted it. Despite the illogicality of it, Spock trusted Jim beyond all reason. His captain had never yet led him anywhere he wished he had not followed. “Like a fucking work of art.” |
323c8f552fc84bdfa85297e33ad346a2 | ['f637115ae99f4820bdacf439f31fddbc'] | Oswald smirked a little to himself as he strolled into the GCPD. He was only perhaps five minutes or so behind schedule. Not too bad. He leaned on his cane as he headed for towards the stairs, only to be stopped by none other than Detective Gordon. _ Oh joy. _ It wasn’t as though they had bad history of course. They had no history really. Jim came to Oswald for favors now and again, and Oswald rather liked to hold over his head the idea he would use those favors one day. He was a handsome man as well, one Oswald never had any real problem appreciating for that fact. But aside from the occasional little tête-à-tête, they remained virtual barely acquaintances. Nevertheless, Oswald managed a broad sort of smirk for the man.
“Ah… Detective Gordon. Hello!”
“Oswald.” Jim always managed to say his name as if he were both angry and relieved to see him. Sometimes Oswald wondered if he really was both those things-- with the former making some sense and the latter being much more interesting to consider.
“I’m afraid if you have business with me, it needs to wait. I’m late for my date with Edward.” Still the ever pleasant smile resting on his lips as flashes of irritation played out in his eyes.
“Oh yeah?” Jim asked and only then did Detective Bullock make his nearby presence known.
“Oh right, we heard about that. You and Nygma. Seems about fitting-- guy always has seemed a few cards short of a full deck…” Bullock smirked at Oswald, to which the Penguin gave him a particularly death-like glare.
“I can assure you, Edward is the cleverest, most mentally competent person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Why he wastes his talents helping men of your limited talents is beyond me….” He quipped, and then he looked back at Jim, who continued to block his way. “Excuse me, detective, but as fascinating as it is to discuss my love life with you-- I really should be on my way.” Oswald tried to step past, but Jim reached out to grab his arm, prompting Oswald to look at him with both anger and frustration. “What are you doing?”
“I could ask you the same question. Ed is a good guy. A little strange, but harmless.”
“Detective Gordon, if you don’t release me--” Jim let go at that moment but gave Oswald a shove back. Oswald gave a huff, straightening as he glared at him.
“Like I was saying, he’s a nice guy. He isn’t equipped to realize how dangerous you are… Whatever it is you’re planning on using him for…”
“Excuse me, Jim, but unless you have a business matter to discuss, I think this conversation is over. What I choose to do with my personal life, and what Edward chooses to do with his, is of no concern to you.” He spat. The NERVE! How dare he even imply he had the right to tell Oswald who he could or couldn’t see.
“He’s not like you, Oswald. We both know it’s just a matter of time before you put him in a situation he can’t handle… A matter of time before you get him hurt.” He retorted and grabbed a fistful of Oswald’s jacket. “Of course that would imply you even care. I think we both know you’re hoping to use him as--”
Jim and his aggression were cut off by Ed’s voice. “DETECTIVE GORDON! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
Jim released Oswald and turned away as Ed rushed up to the men and looked Oswald over and then shot a glare at Jim before recentering his attention on Oswald. He had noticeably placed himself between the two to ensure Oswald was safe. “Did something happen? I… I… Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, let’s get going.” Oswald snapped, looking over Ed’s shoulder to glare at Jim as he straightened himself back up after the rough police handling.
“I-- I have to take these papers back to my lab first...” He nervously glanced between Oswald and the direction he needed to go as he if he couldn’t decide whether to go back or follow Oswald out and continue checking that he was alright. Oswald sighed a little and reached out to take Ed’s free hand with a gentle squeeze.
“Why don’t I walk with you?” He asked, giving another irritated look over Ed’s shoulder at the detective before the pair headed off as such. Oswald was so busy glaring at Jim to notice Ed had looked over his shoulder at well. And where Oswald’s stare was frustrated and annoyed, Ed’s held something different. Something dangerous.
Something murderous.
\---
Edward had overheard their conversation. Part of it at least. Enough to know Jim had been trying to tell Oswald to leave him. When Oswald and Jim were so engaged in staring at one another, so angry with each other that they scarcely seemed to notice the world around them, Ed had taken the opportunity when he came onto the main precinct floor to move closer, to listen. He had only heard a small amount. It was enough to know what they were talking about without getting anywhere near the full conversation. He had to keep moving across the floor, blending into the regular shuffle of detectives and paperwork to avoid being caught. He didn’t want them to know he had been listening. Particularly as he now had the chance to see how honest with him Oswald would be. Would he tell him the things Jim had said?
_ “He’s a nice guy. He isn’t equipped to realize how dangerous you are… Whatever it is you’re planning on using him for…” _ | 1b3c69583f4c41e49370f827ee9b2a94 | ['f637115ae99f4820bdacf439f31fddbc'] | Because they were in his office, and they were fully clothed, and they’d only even been kissing, and Edward could feel the wet spot on his thigh, and Oswald was going to know, and Edward would be lucky to ever live down the fact he was such an inexperienced loser.
_ “Nice work, hot shot.” _ Came a voice from the corner as his other self mocked him. _ “Now you’ll be lucky if you ever get past first base.” _ He smirked and moved closer to the pair, looking at Ed with disgust in his eyes.
“Stop it!” Ed snapped with tears suddenly welling in his eyes. In his moment of disassociation, he had forgotten he was still perched on Oswald’s lap. With Oswald kissing along his neck and humming softly against his skin. But Ed’s voice put an end to that pleasantness. Oswald pulled back and removed his hands where they had rested on his hips, looking up at Ed with wide, concerned eyes.
“I--I’m so sorry, Edward… I thought… Did I do something wrong?” He looked confused. He thought Ed meant…
Oh dear.
He struggled to find the words as he just stared down at Oswald. What could he say? How could he explain? There wasn’t an explanation other than him being crazy… And Ed was still clinging to hope that maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was just a little different. After all, Edward Nygma was a brilliant man. His IQ was off the charts, and there was far and away no chance that such a clever, bright mind could be insane. No. No, he was definitely sane. But could he count on Oswald to know that?
Ed looked down, helplessly as he leaned back on Oswald’s lap and revealed the stain against his thigh and Oswald’s confusion turned to a soft sort of understanding. Maybe that would be enough? Maybe he didn’t have to know about the other him, who so loathsomely taunted him at his lowest moments and was so distracting, Ed had even managed to forget he and Oswald were in the middle of something rather important and blissful.
“Ah.” Oswald sighed a little and cupped Ed’s cheek as his eyes moved to search the taller man’s face and Oswald compelled him into eye contact with the touch. “I remain in awe of anyone who could enjoy being with me so much….” He smiled and leaned in to kiss Ed. “Please don’t feel embarrassed. It’s alright, Ed. Maybe we should just try and go slower next time… I was rather forceful considering where we are and the fact we have a lunch reservation we’re already late for… Please don’t look so upset, though. I promise I don’t mind.” He reassured him and leaned in to kiss his cheek softly, brushing fingers down Ed’s back as he did so.
Ed felt fresh tears pricking his eyes as he looked at Oswald with such sincere, and overwhelming love. It hurt to love him this much, Edward considered, because he knew no matter how wonderful Oswald was-- he could never really love him back like this. It was impossible. It was impossible that anyone had ever loved this much or this entirely with anyone. Oswald was everything. He was brilliant, and dangerous, and deadly, and generous, and kind, and so so understanding. He was everything and Edward felt his worshipping sort of love only grow deeper until it did indeed hurt. It was all that Edward was sometimes--- in moments like these at least, when all he felt was loving Oswald and all there was was loving Oswald and he could feel it swelling inside of him. Consuming him.
But what a way to be consumed.
“You’re better than I deserve.” Ed managed and his self loathing seemed to fill him up with echoes of that other self playing in his mind. Words about how stupid he was. How unworthy. How he was lying to Oswald, and in the end that would be what ended things no matter what. He had hurt him, he had broken his heart, he had killed the man Oswald loved and ultimately, Oswald would find out and leave him. Ed fought internally as Oswald leaned in to kiss his lips again.
“Nonsense.” Is all Oswald says with a shake of his head and he kisses the tip of Ed’s nose. “I noticed a spare lab coat hanging on the door. Put that on to get out of the building and we’ll stop by your apartment so you can change into fresh pants before we go to the restaurant.”
Oswald’s plan is so reasonable, so sensible that Ed knows he’d have thought of it himself. If only he wasn’t busy making a new plan of just how to confess to Dougherty’s murder before Oswald found out any other way-- and how to guarantee that Oswald appreciated the fact of what Ed did for him. How could he ensure Oswald saw things objectively? How could he ensure he overlooked the ugliness and realized one reason Ed was so perfect for him was that they were alike?
Oswald had said he would mutilate Jim to ensure he regretted trying to keep them apart. How could he make it clear and understood that’s all he was doing with Dougherty? He and Oswald were the same.
They were soulmates.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Thank you for all your continued support. You guys are amazing and this chapter felt especially difficult because of the length but I hope everyone liked it. Theres a deleted scene fic that should go up soon as a part of this fic series as well. Def check it out!
15. Chapter 15
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> In which Edward is definitely DEFINITELY going to confess.
>
> Almost.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Sorry for the long wait. I took a lot of time to consider this chapter and I hope that shows. |
b2d4a63a84384246a9c4722620bec32d | ['f658e8b274ea4911b08c571b39bad9eb'] | Your hand shot out and grabbed the back of his neck pulling him into you. Skin met skin and you let out an unwarranted groan.
He was barely doing anything.
“Shhhh.” His hands snuck around your waist and waist and pulled your legs around his stomach. “Yamato and Iruka think I went to go get dinner. And we don’t want them thinking your over here doing something that might get their imagination wandering.
You could see his smirk through his mask. God you wished he would take that dumb thing off.
Without warning his hand snaked between your legs and began rubbing circles around your clit. You gasped and bit down on his shoulder to avoid moaning.
He hissed but didn’t protest. “You like it rough eh?”
You’re cheeks reddened. You almost didn’t believe this was happening, it seemed more like a dream you would wake up from embarrassed by and not be able to look Kakashi in the eye for a week.
But the way he was making you feel you knew this wasn’t a dream.
He slipped two fingers inside you and began curling them back. You cursed under you breath and arched your back as the feeling overwhelmed you, not knowing how much longer you could stand it. His long, thick fingers stretching you as he stared down at you, his free hand grabbing your breast and pinching your nipple. You so desperately wanted to scream out his name.
You clenched around his fingers and he huffed. “I’ve waited too long to let you finish without tasting you first.” His muscles barely strained as he lifted you out of the water and kneeled between your legs. He pulled his mask down but before you could see the rest of his face it disappeared between your legs.
You couldn’t help but let out a loud moan as his tongue swirled around your slit and danced over your opening. This wasn’t your first time but it damn well felt like it.
“Kakashi-“ you panted. “Please more.” You tugged roughly on his hair and began moving you hips to create more friction. One arm snaked around you back to hold your hips in place while the other began pounding into your hole, hitting deeper and deeper until your eyes clouded over and you came all over his hand. You’d never orgasmed like that before, you didn’t know it was possible.
He travels back up your body, his mask covering his lips again. “You taste like honey, and the one thing I love about honey is that it never goes bad.”
He smashed his body against yours and for the first time you felt his erection. It was big.
“Are you up for round two.” He said. “Because I’m not completely satisfied.”
Just his voice was enough to get you hot again. “Yes.”
“Say it.” He pulled you down from the ledge and pressed your ass against his dick. “Say you want my cock.”
“Please Kakashi-”
He grabbed your hair and tilted your head back. “Say it or I leave.”
“Fuck me Kakashi, for the love of god fuck me.” You tried not scream and he quickly covered your mouth this his hand.
“Don’t make a sound. If you make a sound I’ll stop.”
You nodded and closed your eyes, waiting for him. The warm water around you didn’t compare to the heat of his skin as he pushed his cock inside of you.
You bit down on his hand and he let out a grunt. “Fucking hell.” He whispered.
You could have come right then and there.
He moved slow at first, making sure he wasn’t hurting you. Once he was sure you could handle him he pushed you into the edge of the pool and began pounding into relentlessly. You’re eyes closed and your mouth opened at the feeling. His hand went around your throat as she pounded into you over and over again, his pace never slowing. You needed to grab onto something, the pleasure was too much, your arm reached back and you let your hand catch the back of his neck. You could feel his eyes on you but yours stayed shut.
“I’ve wanted to feel you like this since our first mission together.” He whispered in you ear. “I wanted to ram my cock so hard into you that you screamed for all of the Leaf Village to hear you. But now look at you panting and not able to make a noise, tell me you’ve thought about this too. About me making your legs shake and bringing you whole body to the edge of pleasure.”
“You’re talking to much.” You said softly.
“I thought I told you not a make a noise.” He said gruffly in your ear. He let go of your throat and pushed you away.
You curse under your breath turned around, your legs giving out from under you.
He walked to the opposite edge and lifted himself up, you now saw the full length of his cock. You didn’t know how that had fit inside of you.
Sitting in the edge of the pool he leaned back on his hands. “Ride me.”
Your jaw dropped.
“Did you not hear me?” He titled his head to the side. “Get over here and ride me. I won’t ask twice.”
You stood on shaky legs and moved through the pool, his dark eyes following you all the way as you lifted your up and threw your legs over his waist. His arms stayed relaxed by his side and he watch as you took his thick cock into you hands and mauvered it towards your hole.
“Sit.” He demanded.
He went deeper than before.
You both let you a sigh of relief as you head fell onto his chest and his rolled back.
“Fuck you gotta move.” | 7a7073f876b14f42a962b1588ede9b24 | ['f658e8b274ea4911b08c571b39bad9eb'] | Suga watched, each minute passed like three as Sawamura laid punch after punch and Kuroo dodge the best he could. It was over the moment he was pushed into a corner, black gloves blinded their view as Sawamura threw punch after punch.
“Holy shit,” Oikawa mumbled and they all stared with wide eyes. ‘Who is this guy?” Bokuto mumbled.
The final bell rang and Sawamura pulled away, his chest heaving up and down as his tiny manger leaped onto the stage and pulled him back into his corner. It looked like Kuroo was struggling to stand as his blonde girlfriend forced herself into the ring to steady him.
It seemed like the whole crowd was standing on edge as they waited for the results. When the referee stepped on stage everyone seemed to hold their breath.
“Each round was worth ten points and if one opponent is not knocked out in the five rounds the winner is decided by who received the most points out three judges decided with anonymous votes.” He said. “The winner of the first round with a two to one vote is… Sawamura Daichi!” The fans that Sawamura had gained cheered and clapped.
“The winner of the second round with three to zero vote is Sawamura Daichi!”
“Holy shit,” Bokuto said. “This is crazy to think Kuroo might actually lose to this guy.”
“The winner of the third round with a two to one vote is Kuroo Tetsurou!” The crowd was louder and Kuroo raised his hand into the air.
Akaashi had his mouth over his hand, Bokuto was gripping that railing too tightly, and Oikawa was staring wide-eyed and squeezing Suga’s forearm. Who knew they would all be on the edge of their seat like this.
“The winner of the fourth round with a two to one vote is…” The crowd was deadly silent as the referee held his breath. “Kuroo Tetsurou!”
“Holy shit! Holy shit!” Bokuto was bouncing up and down now. “Are you fucking kidding me this is insane.”
“I can't stand this!” Oikawa dug his palms into his eyes and leaned his head back. “My poor gay heart can’t take this!”
“And finally, the winner of the fifth round. With a vote of three to zero.” The referee glanced at both men. Kuroo was blank-faced as he held his girlfriend's hand, but his tight body stature gave away that he was nervous. Sawamura, on the other hand, was bouncing his left foot against the ground and his manager dung his fingers into his shoulder.
“The winner is Sawamura Daichi!”
The crowd cheered and Suga couldn’t help but let out a holler himself. Bokuto was laughing like a madman and Oikawa looked like he was ready to pass out.
Suga watched as Daichi stood to raise his arms into the air and smiling brightly. Even from here Suga could tell he was sincere when he took his gloves off and presented a hand to Kuroo.
Kuroo said something as he took his own glove off and shook Sawamura’s hand before he pulled him in for a hug and a slap on the back.
“Kuroo is never going to hear the end of this!” Bokuto looked like a kid on his birthday but Akaashi put an end to it real quick with a “Bokuto-san” and a deadly glare.
Suga watched as the two talked to each other, laughing and smiling like they hadn’t been trying to pound each other to death just moments ago.
“That’s what I loved about fighting here,” Bokuto said. “There were never any grudges held, you fought and you stayed friends. I think Sawamura will fit in well here.” Akaashi looked up at Bokuto, love filling his eyes as he leaned forward and pulled him in for a kiss.
The referee announced a ten-minute intermission and Suga dragged Oikawa down to the bar to get another beer. “Are you still nervous?” He asked Oikawa.
“Not really,” he said as he reached for one of the bottles. “I’m a little scared and a little horny but what’s new?”
“Oh my god, Oikawa.” Suga rolled his eyes as he dragged him back up the steps. They were met with Bokuto pressing Akaashi into the railing and their lips pressed together.
“Am I the only one here with any humility?” Suga groaned and watched as Akaashi pulled away from Bokuto with a small laugh.
“Sorry Suga,” he said and turned around in Bokuto’s arms but stayed pressed against the railing.
Suga sipped on his beer as he watched the crowd below. While most people looked scary, big and burly with tattoos and piercings, there was a fair amount of normal-looking people.
The referee climbed back onto the stage with a bright smile and rowdied the crowd up. He began announcing the next fighters and Oikawa was bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“In the left corner, standing at 5’10 and weighing in at 215 we have Kentarou “Mad-Dog” Kyoutani!” The scary part of the crowd went crazy as a man with dyed blond hair with black strips made his way onto the stage.
“I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side,” Oikawa said.
“Tani’s a big ol’ softy,” Bokuto told them.
“And in the right corner, standing at 5’10 and weighing in at 220 we have Iwaizumi “Ace” Hajime!”
“Go Iwa-chan!” All three men jumped out of their skin as Oikawa screamed his heart out. Somehow his voice was able to reach the ring through the crowd and Iwaizumi turned towards them, eyes squinted until he recognized the voice. He then smiled brightly and pumped his fist into the air.
“I think I might melt.” Oikawa leaned into Suga. “I might be in love, Suga-san.” |
7126d3117c3747a695dc560b281f636b | ['f65a5e8916814ea4baa1d2efb2d782ce'] | “I didn’t want to bother you with my problems.” Nora whispered, tears still flowing down her face in an endless stream. “You have your own burdens to bare, you don’t need mine.”
“I want them.” Hancock insisted, he cupped her cheeks in his hands and kept their foreheads pressed together. “Nora, we’re partners. We trust each other with our lives...so trust me.” He swallowed hard. He felt very vulnerable as Nora’s watery hazel eyes bore into his onyx eyes. She slowly closed her eyes and nodded weakly. “Is there anymore I should know about?”
Nora slowly pulled out of his arms and undid the choker around her neck. With the collar of her blouse open he could see the angry bruise of whatever she had tied around her neck. Hancock tried to withhold his surprise as Nora undid her chest plate and blouse in front of him, and then he tried to hold back his shock and fear as he saw her exposed chest and torso.
His eyes flickered to the Deathclaw bite mark scar on her shoulder, but his focus kept coming back to the dozens of cuts across her body. Some were thin, angry red lines, others were thick and bruised. She was completely destroying herself. And Hancock hadn’t noticed.
“It’s not always like this.” Nora whispered as she started to button her blouse back up again. “Sometimes it’s cuts, sometimes it’s burns...sometimes it’s even dirty water or putrid food.” She continued. “It was a problem before the war too...but...” she examined herself and more tears fell, “never like this...”
Hancock’s hand moved of its own accord and he only realized what he was doing when Nora hissed in pain. He had touched the longest, thickest diagonal cut that ran from just under her right breast to her left hip. Her skin was cold and clammy to the touch, and he could see her shaking under his fingertips. The cut, like most of the others, had scabbed over and turned an angry red as Hancock stroked the skin. He didn’t stop himself as his hands wandered from the cuts to other parts of her skin, and before long, he was rubbing nonsensical shapes into her body with his hands. He pawed at her hips, pulling her closer inch by inch, and Hancock grew hard as he realized Nora hadn’t pushed his hand away. In fact, she was staring at him as though she was waiting to see what he would do. He swallowed hard and took a chance. He got up on the bed on his knees and moved closer to her. Nora leaned away as Hancock gently applied pressure to her stomach. He had one hand on her back and one on her stomach as he helped her lay down.
“Hancock?” Her voice was quiet.
“But it is now.” He murmured as he climbed over her and pushed her blouse more open.
“What?” Nora questioned, her face was red, but her tears had stopped.
Hancock was looking at her scarred body, “You said ‘it’s not always like this’,” he looked up at her, “but it is now.” He moved backwards so he was over her legs and leaned forward so his head was lined up with with her stomach. “So let me show you how much people can care.”
“Hancock, what are you—“ Nora gasped as Hancock laid a soft kiss on the thickest cut.
“I know how you feel,” Hancock said against her skin, “not a day goes by I don’t think about offing this ugly mug.” He glanced up at her, “but there are people who love you, people who will be completely lost without you, people who want you to be happy,” as he listed them off he repeatedly kissed her bare stomach. She was quivering under him and Hancock was dying to grind his hips into hers—
No! He needed to take this slow. He wanted to take this slow.
His kissing turned to sucking as he found uncut, soft, cool flesh to bring between his teeth. Nora’s body arched as he tentatively bit down on the skin just above her right hip. He could hear her nails grip into the mattress under her and feel her body shake with every breath. He resisted the urge to smirk.
“Hancock,” Nora weakly called out.
He raised his head to look at her, “yes?” He couldn’t hold back a smile.
“What about you?” She asked.
“What about me?” He repeated, confused.
“Well, you said you feel the same way, yet, you realize that there are people who also depend on you, and love you, and would be completely lost without you?” She tried to sit up, but Hancock moved forward to hover over her. He tried to ignore how her body was growing warmer and he was growing harder.
“Ain’t nobody need me the way the people need you.” Hancock justified.
Nora was silent for a moment, and just when he thought the matter had been dropped, she quietly whispered, “I need you.” Hancock blinked in surprise. “Hancock,” Nora wrapped her arms around his neck as he leveled his head with hers, “I—“ she hesitated, “you are why I get up every day. You may infuriate me,” he chuckled and she finally smiled, “but I wouldn’t be here today if you weren’t here with me.”
“Well, that’s a humbling compliment there.” Hancock pressed their foreheads together, “so I guess that means we’ve gotta keep each other going, huh?”
“Guess so, oh darn.” Nora rolled her eyes.
“Which brings me back to this,” he pushed himself back down to her stomach.
“What are you—“ Nora began to ask.
“Taking care of these.” He began to find the smaller cuts and apply kisses to them as well. | 7bf6f16abfdf477c95499d02097a467a | ['f65a5e8916814ea4baa1d2efb2d782ce'] | “Danse! It’s okay, Hancock is a friend!”
“He’s a ghoul, subhuman, disgusting—“ The Brotherhood asshole spat out, not lowering his weapon and glaring over Nora’s shoulder at him.
“Hey, you’re no prince charming either, asshole.” Hancock lowered his hands and reached for his rifle.
“Danse, weapon down,” Nora turned to Hancock, “Hancock, don’t even think about it.” He felt like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar. She turned her body to him, turning her back to the gun that was still pointed at him. “Hancock, what are you doing here?” She demanded.
“Doesn’t matter,” he walked over and grabbed her arms, the Brotherhood asshole tightened his grip on his weapon, so Hancock made a show of pulling Nora close to his chest. She had to crane her neck back to look at him, and her hands had landed on his chest. “You’ve clearly gone off the deep end without me,” he looked down at her, her hazel eyes wide with confusion, “so I’m taking out and we are hitting the road again.“
“I’d advise you unhand Miss Nora at once, you animal.” The Brotherhood asshole ordered.
“Hancock, stop!” Nora tried to push him away, “this is ridiculous,” she turned to the Brotherhood asshole, “Danse, I’m sorry, give me one moment,” Hancock took that as his cue and practically dragged Nora out of her office.
“What the hell was that?” Hancock snapped at her once they were outside. “Do you know what kind of racist, superiority bullshit those assholes ride on?”
“Yes, I’m aware. Your point?” Nora demanded.
“My point?” Hancock was nearly roaring at this point, “my point is you are a thousand times better than those shit heads! They’re tyrants, Nora!”
“Danse isn’t like the other Brotherhood members—“ Nora defended.
“Oh, so you’re on first name basis with the asshole?” Hancock spat, he’d noticed it earlier, but it still stung.
“Hancock would you just listen to me?” Nora shouted.
“Listen?!” He shouted, “I think your actions have said enough—“
“I only joined the Brotherhood of Steel to steal information from them!” Nora shouted back at him.
Hancock’s anger deflated slightly, “What?” He asked quietly.
“The Railroad heard a rumor that the Brotherhood was planning an attack.” Nora realized she was still talking loudly and took a deep breath before continuing at a normal volume, “It happened to coincide with a big mission to smuggle synths out of the Commonwealth, so they sent me to spy on the Brotherhood.” She explained. “Danse was my training Paladin?” She waved it off, “It didn’t matter. Danse trained me. I got the information I needed and left. Then a Scribe reached out to me and told me that Danse was a synth and the Brotherhood wanted him dead.” Hancock kept his eyes narrowed at Nora. “It wasn’t right, so I found him and persuaded the Brotherhood to let him leave with me.” She opened her arms, “And that’s where we are.” She finished.
“So why is he still here?” Hancock nodded back to the office. “Send Captain Metal-For-Brains off.”
“And let the Brotherhood use him as target practice? I don’t think so.” Nora put her hands on her hips. “I’m just trying to help Danse adapt to civilian life. Just like I did for Nate.”
Hancock physically flinched.
Nate.
That was a name he hadn’t heard in a long time.
Nora’s deceased husband. She’d offhandedly mentioned a few times that Nate had been in the military, but due to a near-death experience on his last deployment where he ended up being the only survivor of his regiment he had been honorably discharged.
Hancock squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure building up at the front of his skull. “So that’s it? You’re just helping him adjust.”
“That’s all.” Nora seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
“Good.” Hancock awkwardly looked anywhere but at Nora, all his anger had been deflated, now he felt completely drained.
“Hancock?” He didn’t look at her, “Hancock,” she raised an ungloved hand to cup one of his gaunt cheeks. Hancock’s skin tingled in a good way. He couldn’t recall if their skin had ever touched before. “You know I care about you. And I care about ghouls and synths.” She added, “No amount of weaponry or power armor could persuade me to give up everything I’ve worked for,” Hancock’s breathing hitched as Nora stepped closer. He swore her hips rocked against his for a brief second and he bit down a groan. “Okay?” She asked.
Hancock reached up to cradle the hand that was touching him. His body moved of its own volition, he lowered her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
“Okay.”
7. No and that's final
Nora breathed in the irradiated air of the Commonwealth. She was finally alone--well, mostly alone. She smiled as she leaned over enough to scratch Dogmeat behind his ear. He wagged his tail and gave her a friendly bark. She could see the city of Boston from her spot on top of the old M.I.T. building. The sun was peeking out behind clouds, trying to warm the chilly spring air, but Nora could feel a storm coming. She was ready.
Her Pip-Boy crackled, yet she didn’t move. Her geiger counter started croaking as electricity ripped space apart behind her.
She still did not move.
“Mother,” Shaun stepped up beside her on the opposite side of Dogmeat.
“Shaun.” Nora answered.
“I’ll admit, I’ve never actually been up to the surface.” She could see him look around wearily out of the corner of her eye. “It’s...not what I expected.”
“It’s not the world we belonged to.” Nora admitted. She thought back to the world they were taken from and wondered what Shaun would have been like if he’d grown up in that time.
“This isn’t the world you belong to.” Shaun corrected. “This is the world I grew up knowing.” He finally turned to her, “You should join me below, mother.” |
ebae00f34ac54662a16077f18cf40ca1 | ['f6603faacb8e49c78c99f80014067eaa'] | Cleo read a poem as they lowered his casket into the ground,
“ _ You’ve traveled so far in your time, _
_ But now you can rest. _
_ Although our souls are intertwined, _
_ We’ll release you per this request. _
_ Promise we’ll meet on the other side, _
_ So bon voyage my friend. _
_ May we meet again.” _
The sky turned grey, clouds rumbled and raindrops fell from the sky.
* * *
Grian couldn’t wait any longer, he had to go back, he had to change things.
He thought he had time to orchestrate a plan but now things had gone wrong, TFC had died.
TFC’s death was something he couldn’t stop but he could try.
He had to.
Grian lost another friend, he’ll do anything to prevent losing more. Even if it meant doing the impossible.
Preparation was key to the plan, but he didn’t have much time, Grian had to do it before Xisuma noticing someone was messing with void magic. With golden carrots in his inventory, diamond armor and elytra on, and only a half constructed plan in his head Grian went inside the machine that would fix everything, that would take him back to before everything happened.
He paused and pulled out his communicator, stared at it for a moment before typing in the server wide group chat,
_ <Grian> _ _im sorry guys_
_ <keralis> _ ?
< _ stress> what do you mean _
_ <Zedaph> dude whats wrong _
_ <stress> grian I’m coming over don’t do anything stupid please _
_ <Grian> it’s okay I’ll fix things I promise _
_ <Grian> i just want to say I care deeply about all of you _
_ <stress> grian what are you doing _
_ <xisuma> grian buddy you okay? _
_ <Grian> I’m sorry for everything _
_ <Cleo> grian _
_ <Grian> goodbye _
Grian put his communicator into his pocket, ignoring the buzzing notifying him of new messages.
He had to fix things, he had to do it for them. Taking a deep breath he pressed the button that would take him back before everything went wrong.
In instant a powerful boom and white flash appeared.
_(Ringing in his ears, bright lights, smell of smoke and ash, excruciating pain all over his body.)_
* * *
All grain could smell was smoke, it was everywhere. There was a sharp pain in his ears, probably the loud ringing, but there was a loght breeze.
Grian’s eyes snapped open, to be meet with a blue sky. He stood up and looked around him, he was in the middle of a field with flowers of so many different colors surrounding him.
Before he could do anything else he suddenly remembered what happened.
He had messed with the impossible, he had done the impossible.
Pulling the communicator out of his pocket he saw what day it was.
April 15, 2019.
Approximately one month before the start of the war.
Grian laughed in disbelief, he fell to his knees with the sun shining in his face.
He’d done it.
He turned back time
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> For less agnsty hermitcraft content head on over to my tumblr @languid-flower
3. Chapter 3
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Sad boi Grian Hours™️ And Detective Xisuma ;)
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Ik it’s been a month but here it’s is y’all
Xisuma was used to weird mishaps around the server, he lived in a town full of emotionally stunted man-children. Now don’t take that the wrong way, even Xisuma considered himself an emotionally stunted man-child, but Xisuma had grown used to-maybe even a bit fond of the weird mishaps that occurred around town.
Then the Civil War happened.
To be blunt Xisuma hated every minute of it, the fighting and maiming, and the arguing. The arguing was the worst, it hurt Xisuma to see his friends over such a stupid reason.
He thought that it would eventually die down, that everybody could look past it and become friends again. Then Doc sent Mumbo back barely alive with a threat that the next person would come back in pieces.
_(He watched Doc beat him up. He felt so powerless watching it happen.)_
That’s when everything escalated.
Death threats where sent from both sides.
Assignation attempts happened on both team leaders.
_(Nobody knew who had payed for the hit.)_
Houses were ransacked and grieved.
Beloved pets taken hostage and killed.
Most importantly it showed a sign that the war would only end badly and bloody.
...
Xisuma was proven right and he hated it.
The war did end badly, so very badly.
The server hadn’t been the same ever since.
(_Since the War. Since the funerals. Since TFC dying. Since everything.)_
TFC’s death just made things so much worse, he was the only thing holding the server together after the war, the only thing keeping them from killing each other at first sight.
Things got tense after TFC’s death to say the least.
Everyone stopped talking to each other, complete radio silence from all, it was like they were strangers. Xisuma didn’t see a reason to check up on Grian, he had hidden himself away probably afraid someone of the Star team would attack him.
But then Xisuma felt a shaking, he felt a pain in his head and his heart and he immediately knew something.
Someone was messing the void.
_(He knew it was Grian he didn't know how he knew.)_
He felt the blood rushing towards his head. Everything got blurry and hazy. Reaching for the communicator on his wrist he tried to tell Grian to stop what ever he was doing, to stop doing everything and that he’ll be right over to deal with what he did. But Xisuma fell to the ground, to overcome with pain to stand.
His lost conscious thought was that Grian had just did something he wasn’t supposed to. | 91020d1609c046baa19605b9a0102067 | ['f6603faacb8e49c78c99f80014067eaa'] | What Does it Feel like To Drown?
**Author's Note:**
> Decided to do the Hermitober thing but with Drabble cause why not ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
>
> (Taurtis + Drowning)
Taurtis had always had an odd realationship with water.
It was hard to explain.
Some of his fondest memories were associated with water. Playful water fights with friends, his parents teaching him how to swim, going boogie boarding with Grian.
At the same time some of his most traumatic memories were also associated with water.
* * *
His parents promised that they would be back within the week. Great Aunt Chizue had fallen ill and his mother wanted to go say goodbye before she passed away. They only had enough money for his parents to go, Taurtis stayed home with a family friend. Two plane tickets were brought and they left.
Their plane crashed in the middle of the Pacific ocean.
No survivors were found, all had died from the impact or drowned.
Taurtis cried for a month.
* * *
He lived with his grandfather after that, having to move from California to Tokyo, Japan. Grandfather Rin, despised him, to him Taurtis was a living reminder of the daughter he had lost.
People always used to point out how similar him and his mother looked like.
Key words, used to.
It mad sense to Taurtis why Ojiisan Rin hated him, one day he was living out a normal life in Tokyo, the next he was forced to bury his only child and her husband. Then he was saddled with the responsibility of caring for a grandchild he barely knew. So Taurtis could understand why Ojiisan Rin didn’t like him, it wasn’t his fault. If anything it was his.
Taurtis tried so hard to be a golden child, to be a child that Ojiisan Rin could look at and be proud of. A child that wouldn’t be a burden to Ojiisan, but no matter how hard he tried things still happened.
Young Taurtis was too intuitive for Ojiisan.
Rin had a bad temper, and a stong backhand. It was taurtis’ fault for annoying him anyway.
_(At least that’s what Taurtis told himself when he layed in bed crying.)_
He learned to be weary of Ojiisan. To avoid him when he drank too much, or came home late from the pub. He learned how to grab food from the kitchen without waking Ojiisan up, or to leave the house for school without him noticing.
Taurtis became nimble. It was much faster to avoid the slaps if you were fast. He ate less, after all it was easier to hide if you were smaller. He learned to run when Ojiisan got into one of his fits of yelling and rage.
It wasn’t enough.
One day Ojiisan snapped. Taurtis didn’t know what he did wrong. It was late at night when Ojiisan came home from the pub. When he did come home he started yelling. Kept yelling and screaming how Taurtis was a demon child, a waste of space, a burden he hadn’t asked for. He yelled that Taurtis should’ve been the one on the plane.
(_Taurtis couldn’t agree more.)_
Taurtis was dragged out of bed and thrown outside. The door slammed shut, with a promise from Ojiisan that he’d be let back in when he proved he wasn’t a complete waste of space.
So he sat by the door, shell shocked and unsure what to do. He cried. Eventually droplets fell from the sky, mixing together with the tears on his face.
Taurtis stayed crying on the doorstep the whole night, getting drenched in water. He got the flu a little while after, but Ojiisan didn’t notice, too drunk to be able to notice. It was okay, he told himself, after all he deserved it. He really did.
* * *
Taurtis was a freshman when he met Sam. They bonded over the fact they both had lived the majority of their life in America. It was a pleasant relationship at first, Sam would listen to Taurtis and vice versa. Then they become sophomores and everything changed. Sam kept asking for more and more of Taurtis with nothing in return.
If he resisted he was guilted with words.
It’s what good friends to Taurtis.
Stop being a big baby.
Im not asking for much.
Ive been through worse so, shut up.
Stop overreacting.
What could Taurtis do? Sam was his only friend, so he let himself be bossed around, let himself become the version of a perfect friend that Sam wanted. Let Sam change him until he didn’t know who the real him was anymore.
Sam’s temper was just as bad as Ojiisan’s.
It wasn’t Sams fault.
It was Taurtis’ he shouldn’t have angered Sam so close to a tub of water.
Breathing is hard to do underwater.
But it’s okay, Taurtis would never report Sam to the police.
That’s not what good friends do after all.
**Author's Note:**
> For less angsty hermitcraft stuff follow me on my tumblr @languid-flower ;) |
7a5838942ab9497fa303eaa05a18b3f1 | ['f6727f7e2a0f43f4be99e24834d4843d'] | Pushing yourself up from the bed and grabbing your bag, you stepped through the threshold of the door before shutting it quietly, only getting a glimpse of your boss taking a seat on the bed before the room disappeared from your sight. Breathing out in relief, you set your bag of things down on the white counter, shivering as you undo your shoes and set your bare feet down on the cold tiles. Undressing, you run the shower to hot once more before stepping in, relishing in the heat and the temporary isolation from the world around you. You made sure not to stay in the shower too long, no doubt your boss would be rapping at the door, making a fuss about how much steam was filtering through the top and bottom of the door and how it would cause mold. Turning the shower off for the final time that night, you step out and promptly towel off, pulling your pyjamas from your bag and slipping them on. After conducting your nightly routine, you pack your things once more into your bag, double checking to make sure you didn't miss anything, before cracking open the door, turning off the light, and exiting, shutting the door behind you.
In the dim light, only provided by what was filtering through the slits of the blinds at the window, you spied your boss, sleeping comfortably under the thick blanket provided, surrounded by the complimentary throw pillows. It seems he pushed the majority of them away in favour of just one, his back facing you. Quietly, you padded over next to the bed, setting your things down. Looking to the ground sadly, you bit your lip as you slid to the ground, laying on your arms. Feeling a chill come over you, you shudder, curling up into a ball. Closing your eyes, you tried to drift off to sleep, before a large and somewhat heavy object hits you square in the head. Gasping in surprise, you grapple around, grabbing the object and squeezing.
_ It's just a fucking pillow. _
Holding it in your hands for a moment, you hear movement from the bed before it settles down again, returning the room to silence. Upon further touching and analysing in the dark, you realise it's one of the throw pillows from the bed. Clutching it tightly, you bring it to your head, propping it up and setting yourself up for sleep once again. _ Thanks, boss. _ You drift off into a dreamless slumber.
You wake up again when it's so late into the night you can barely see; it's pitch black, barely any light was filtering in through the slits of the blinds. You're shivering all over, shudders wracking your body as you quickly begin to regret bringing summer pyjamas, having expected to have a bed to sleep in. Given it was the winter months now, the cold steadily seeping through the window was chilling you straight down to your bone marrow. You were sure at this rate you were going to go into shock from the cold.
Looking up with goosebump-covered arms, you gaze longingly at the plush, warm looking bed. No sound came from above, and for a moment, you entertained the ludicrous thought that you could crawl up and into bed and go back to sleep in the warmth and security of the quilt. You reached a hand up before quickly regaining your senses, snatching your hand back. You were convinced that if you put a single finger on that bed that your boss would sense it, subsequently rising and tearing you to shreds. You weren't even sure if you'd be permitted to take some of the excess of throw pillows to use as a makeshift shelter. Electing to stand and maybe go curl up on the plush chair instead, you moved to stand, only to realise that both of your legs had become numbed from the cold, causing them to give out under you, in turn you let out a small shriek as you fell over, hurriedly throwing your forearms out to catch yourself, causing a dull _ thunk _ to permeate the silence as you hit the carpeted floor. You froze, braced against your arms, trying to avoid so much as breathing. Listening in to the silence, you prayed to whatever god was out there that you didn’t wake up your boss. You didn’t know if he was a light sleeper and how he reacted to being abruptly woken up, and you didn’t want to know.
Your god, had decided, to not let you be so lucky.
A shuffling sound resounded in the room as you watched with dilated eyes in the darkness as your boss rose up dramatically in the bed, a solid black shape amongst the shadows. Your breath caught in your throat as he turned around, and although it was too dark to see, you knew he was glaring at you. You felt it in your bones. You felt his golden gaze searing through your head, glaring, judging. Your arms finally gave out, and you fell to the floor, moaning in pain and the cold, releasing another violent shudder. You heard him move, to do what, you didn’t know. You heard shuffling and a frustrated grunt.
“Up” He spoke. You tilted your head in his direction with fatigued eyes.
“W-what?” You questioned. Surely he wasn’t meaning what you thought he meant- | 1f5579fd40cb46d7b9f56b97262129a9 | ['f6727f7e2a0f43f4be99e24834d4843d'] | Gold Eyes and Gold Hearts
**Author's Note:**
> OK SO I finally decided to post my first fic! It's quite short and sweet but I've had in in my drafts for a week, and I want to post it before s4 premieres and the tag possibly gets swamped LOL. Anyways enjoy this, I love him and I would go full sicko mode for him. Feel free to leave constructive criticism! <3
Soft Sobbing. That’s the first thing you heard.
It seemed like a distant dream, like peering through a haze, when you think back on that time you found him. Bloodied, beaten, _dirty_ , screaming in agony as he writhed in pain. You believe to this day that you’ve dissociated from the memory. Some of it is blurry, some of it vivid and clear, like looking into an undisturbed lake and seeing straight through to the bottom.
You forcefully push the memory away to the back of your consciousness where you hoped it would stay for good this time.
You knew you were deluding yourself.
You sighed deeply as you made that final push through the door frame, walking slowly to Kai’s bed, where he lay immobile. The only signs of life on him was the slow rise and fall of his chest, the steady stream of tears, and his eyes flicking from the window, to you.
Even in such a state he still looked ethereally beautiful. You knew what he was thinking before he even uttered a word; this becoming somewhat of a semi-regular routine.
“I know, Kai. I know” you whispered to him, breathy voice as you took his hand in your own, your warmth travelling from your hand to his cold one. His chest seized up for a moment, breathing halting, before fluttering back to life like the carefully interlocked cogs of a machine.
“I’m tired. I’m so tired. I’ll never be the same. I’m broken. I’m nothing more than a broken man, with a broken dream” He wheezed out, restraining his emotions inside a cage of his own making. Despite it all, the tears still fell.
You looked upon him, healthy in physicality, but battered, broken, bruised emotionally. Mentally. He was exhausted spiritually. He lost everything. He lost his dream. He lost his life’s work. He lost his precepts. He lost his home, his family, his _arms_ . Even though he still had his quirk, the only sliver of his previous life, it was unusable. There was no conduit, no outlet. It was like trying to use a lighter without a wick. _Nothing. They had taken everything from him._
Now, Overhaul is no more. All that’s left is the scared, isolated child that he had been hiding deep down inside the depths of his soul this entire time.
Chisaki Kai was reborn.
“You don’t have to be afraid, Kai. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave you” You soothe him, hand moving to his hair to comb rhythmic strokes through his short brown locks. He visibly relaxes into the action, chest spasming in an attempt to stop from sobbing, eyes squeezing shut.
“It’s perfectly ok to cry too. It’s natural, please. You have to let it out” You bite back your own tears, voice wavering, and proceeding to help him as he moves to sit up by wrapping your arm around his upper body, gently helping him raise from the bed, then swinging his legs over the side, and righting him fully.
He looks to you like you’re god, in that moment. The vulnerability, the emotion, and the pure raw sadness in his deep golden eyes makes you forget how to breathe. Only after freezing, and having your body jumpstart your heart again, do you move to wipe your own tears away.
_You have to be strong. For him._
He leans into you, then. A simple gesture-you feel his head touch your shoulder. He reaches out to you with his nubbed arms, his limited reach only allowing him to lightly brush your side with the stumps as he grips for purchase with fingers he no longer has. Somehow, you still feel him.
You turn yourself, allowing him to move into your chest, head leant into your neck for balance as you wrap your arms around his waist, running your hands up and down the expanse of his back in another soothing gesture. You feel the tears on your neck as fresh as the day you felt his blood on your hands. You hear choked sobs, rushed breathing, little muffled squeaks as he finally relinquished his turmoil to the atmosphere. To you. To god. Anyone who was willing to listen.
You rubbed soft, soothing circles into his back with your hand.
You knew this would be a long journey for him. He wouldn’t get better in a day. He lost everything near to him in one fell blow. But he had you. He had a home. And you would not abandon him. |
aad346267c754bf1a2b070ebd0a749a2 | ['f67c303633ae4db4a80a4eecc933592e'] |
Meet Me Under Moonlight
Loneliness. A word used to describe a sort of empty feeling in the hearts of people. Every human being has experienced it at some time in their lives. At least, that's what (Y/N) told herself. The happy couples and families in Hyrlue Castle seemed to say something else entirely. The people were constantly happy, their smiles radiating like the warm sun. It's not as if (Y/N) hated to see this, but she longed for someone at her side.
As long as the Hylian youth could remember, she had been solo. From the earliest moments of childhood, to adulthood, she walked alone about the world. It was a tragic thing, really. To wander with no at your side seemed a rather sad way to live, but she seemed well adjusted to being alone in the great world.
Dully, (Y/N) walked away from the crowded plaza of people enjoying the day. She walked down one of the alleyways, turning corners here and there without a real purpose of going somewhere. For a moment she stopped to analyze her surroundings, not noticing she had wandered out of town. Without much thought, she continued on into Hyrule Field and off to a large tree near the river.
(Y/N)'s back slid against the tree; the smooth bark could be felt under her clothes as she sat under the large, shady plant. For many years, this spot had been a haven of sorts to (Y/N). Whenever she felt the need to rest or escape the heavy thoughts of her mind, she came here to enjoy the sounds of the river and the gorgeous view of the field before them. Sighing deeply, she relaxed and took in the fresh air of the area. For the most part, all was quiet and calm, the silence only broken by the running water near by. Eventually, the river began to lull (Y/N) into a peaceful slumber. As soon as her eyes shut, however, a strangled noise broke the calm atmosphere. Startled by the sudden noise, (Y/N) jumped to her feet and looked about frantically in every direction.
Looking to the southwest, she could see a circling of bird-like monsters flying above something. Curiously, she ran toward the group of beats in the sky, and upon closer inspection, noticed that sound had come from an injured animal. Though (Y/N) had no weapons to combat the enemies, she charged forward and crouched down to cover the small creature. Acting as a shield, the attacks from the monsters were transferred over to (Y/N) for a short moment before she began to lead the beasts away. Sprinting across the grassy plane, the dark-colored monsters chased after the young Hylian until they grew tired of the chase, deserting the distraction and their original prey.
Once (Y/N) made sure the coast was clear, she returned to the injured creature. Now that a closer look was taken, the small organism was recognized to be a primarily white, black spotted cat with striking blue eyes. (Y/N) looked sadly at the small cat, and carefully picked it up. The kitten was still shaking with fear, but began to calm down as its back was gently stroked. Relaxing into the safe embrace of her arms, began to walk off into the distance, heading to her home in Kakariko Village.
By the time (Y/N) had arrived, it was nightfall. The kitten had long since fallen asleep in her arms, purring softly as it was scratched begins the ear. A smile appeared on her face as (Y/N) closed the door with her foot and walked toward their bed. Pulling out an old pillow from under the bed, she placed the small cat onto it and readied herself for bed.
The layout of the one-roomed was rather simple. A bed with a royal blue quilt was placed on the back wall, a small book area with a chair placed a bit farther to the left, while the kitchen area was to the right. It wasn't the biggest space, but it was a comfortable place that (Y/N), and the new guest, could come to. Tiredly, she walked over to her bed and slipped under the covers. Quickly, (Y/N) was swept into a sleeping state, small snores leaving her mouth.
As she slept through the calm night, a strange dream played under her eyelids...
»«»«»«»«»«»«
By a beautiful, azure lake, a figure sat at the water's edge, making small ripples in the water. Dressed in a flowing white gown, the figure sang a small tune to themselves, the light of the stars and moon giving them a heavenly glow. Slowly the figure turned to face (Y/N), who had been standing off to the side watching. When they faced forward, all their features became clear. A gorgeous woman with hair as golden as wheat, and eyes as blue the sky spoke with a voice so sweet; it sound like bells chiming.
"My young hero, finally, your time has come. I apologize for making you wait so long, but you shall very soon begin your journey. Under the cover of dark, the Gears of Time shall turn and your fate will change. A maiden of stoic face and kind heart will be with you. You shall no longer be alone. You will have a companion of your own for years to come. But a great threat looms, and you will need to fight to save them and your world. Have strength in your heart, dear child of fate, and all shall end well. Your future depends on you..."
Soon the woman began to disappear, leaving a baffled (Y/N) standing alone ar the water's shore.
»«»«»«»«»«»«
(Y/N) tossed back and forth as she slept, but she was awoken by a strange sound. It was faint but still could be heard. At first it sounded distant, but soon became closer and louder. Begrudgingly, (Y/N) opened her eyes and came face to face with the kitten. It meowed happily as it pawed at her nose. Lightly chuckling, (Y/N) lifted the little one from off of her and set them on the floor. "I'm rather glad to know you are better, lucky one. It seems like all you needed was some rest." The kitten let out a pleasant mewl in response. Smiling to herself, (Y/N) recalled her dream and wondered who the mysterious woman was. More importantly, she wondered who her "companion" was and when they would show up. 'Soon' was a rather vague term, but for now all the young woman could do was wait...
»«»«»«»«»«»«
Meanwhile, a threat was looming over the horizon, and only a certain few knew of it. One happened to be a young woman of great wisdom, who dreaded the fated arrival of a new evil. At this moment, she sat at a desk, pouring over ancient texts and writings, all pointing to some kind of great battle and a brave hero. But who was this hero, she wondered, however, those thougts had to wait for now. There were other things to attend to at this time.
A knock sounded at her door and she turned with a tired sigh to acknowledge it. "You may enter...", she spoke with a stoic tone. A guard had been the one on the other side. They entered and bowed respectfully to her.
"Forgive me for bothering you, but the time has come, my lady. He has returned." A small smile tugged at her lips, and she thanked the guard and dismissed them. Standing from her seat, she left to meet her long awaited visitor...
¤~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~¤
Well, that's the end of the first chapter. I spent several hours of late night writing this. It's been a good while since I've written something and I think I did pretty well. Hopefully you enjoy the first part, so stay tuned for part II, which should be here any time now. Thanks for the support. See you later.
~USER ( ^ω^) ❇ | d8c04620def04cfaa731527fee870790 | ['f67c303633ae4db4a80a4eecc933592e'] |
1. I. Cuts
"Onee-chan!! It's time to get up!~", yelled the voice of younger boy standing in his sister's doorway. The boy was only one year younger than his elder sister, a first year. The female sleeping soundly in her light blue sheets and bed turned over groggily to face her brother. She slowly opened her eyes and was met with the bright smile and hazelnut eyes of her brother, Hanakõ. "C'mon Onee-chan. You're gonna be late for class. And you promised you'd walk with me today!", he pouted slightly while he tried rousing her from the bed. With a tired sigh, the older girl sat up and swung her (light/tan/dark) legs over the side of the bed. Smiling a bit, she nodded to Hanakõ in defeat, waking herself up. "Alright, alright. I'll be down in a second. Just let me change, yeah?", she told him and happily Hanakõ skipped from his sister's room and headed downstairs.
This was a rather typical morning for (Y/N) Yamada, a third year student at Akademi High School. Each morning she would be woken up by her younger brother, who loved her dearly. After that, she'd dress in her school uniform, do her hair, and head downstairs to grab breakfast and run off to school. Some mornings she would walk with Hanakõ, but would usually leave earlier to help some of the teachers.
This morning in particular, however, felt strange as (Y/N) walked down the sidewalk, Hana talking about anything and everything under sun. "... And Kiri-san just ate the whole thing in front of the Basu Sisters! It was crazy!", Hanakõ went on until he noticed his sister wasn't paying attention. He puffed out his cheeks and began fuming at her. "(Y/N)!! Are you listening to me at all?!"
Finally, she returned to the real world and acknowledged her brother. "What did you say Hana?"
"So you weren't listening! That's so not cool, Onee-chan! You can't just ignore me..."
(Y/N) smiled sadly and embraced her frowning sibling in a tight hug. After a few seconds, she released the hug and held onto his shoulders, her (e/c) eyes staring into his. "Listen Hanakõ, I'm sorry I wasn't listening to you. I got distracted for a minute, but I promise I'll always be here for you, okay? Your big sis won't forget you."
The ebony-haired boy instantly perked up, a huge smile and a small blush dusted over his cheeks. "Thank you, Onee-chan! I won't forget you either!", Hanakõ saluted to his sister as he began to run ahead towards Akademi High.
(Y/N) chuckled as she passed through the school gate, the cherry blossoms falling all around her. A single flower landed in her hair. She decided to keep it there for the day. A few other students were walking in as well. Checking her watch, the time read 7:45 a.m. on Monday. With a content sigh, (Y/N) headed to her usual spot on the school roof.
After taking the few flights up, the third year made her way over to one of the benches, waving to the loner Kuu Dere, who smiled a bit in return. Taking her seat, she pulled a book from her bag and began to read while her favorite song played into her headphones.
Yes, this was typical morning for (Y/N) Yamada. Head to school, sit on the roof, go to class then lunch, class once again and then to the photography club. Afterwards, she'd make the walk home alone.
A schedule that never seemed to change, always following the clock. (Y/N) liked this little life she had, but secretly wished for a bit of action in her day.
As the old saying goes, however, she should have been more careful with her wish making. Soon, someone new old make their way into her life. Someone who would stick to the background, doing all the dirty work for someone who didn't know they existed.
The time had seemed to slip by quick, when the school bell rang at 8:15, signaling that class would begin soon. Dusting her skirt, the young girl stood from her sitting position, gathered her things, and headed to her class on the first floor. While walking down the hallway, (Y/N) began to get lost in her own world again. Without noticing where she walked, she bumped into someone harshly, causing both of the them to fall over. (Y/N) stood up and rubbed her head, finally looking up to see who she had crashed with.
Before her stood a slightly shorter girl with hair just as dark as her brother's; a nice dark shade of ebony, with hair on the sides of her head and held back by a ponytail. Her eyes were thunder cloud gray, deep and intense. The third year was stunned for a moment by the beauty in front of her, but quickly recomposed herself. She smiled and spoke in an apologetic tone.
"I'm really sorry about that. I should have payed attention. You're alright, yes?"
The girl with ebony hair, didn't say a word, only nodding at her and keeping her eyes downcast to the floor. (Y/N) giggled a bit at how shy she seemed, causing the other girl to blush a bit.
"Well, I'm glad you're okay. I'm Yamada (Y/N), third year. What's your name?"
The other girl squirmed in her place a bit, still not looking up. She whispered out her name a few times before finally speaking up.
"A-Aishi Ayano... Second year..."
"It's nice to meet you, Aishi-san. Sorry about bumping into you again. Maybe I'll see you around."
(Y/N) waved goodbye to Ayano and headed back down the hall to her class. She thought to herself about how cute the second year was. She looked forward to seeing her again. She finally made it to class 3-1, we're she brook her seat next to Saki Miyu. They talked as friends would until class started. Soon, Hana-sensei walked in and the teaching started once the 8:30 bell rang. |
baab01f415684512bce96199a19333c8 | ['f695ba4d48704122a8dccfcf2c297f9b'] | Immediately, the teen’s eyes opens, one hand grabbing his wrist. Akai stills, allowing the boya time to blink away whatever dreams haunted him.
“Akai-san?”
Akai simply hums, not taking his hand off the boya’s forehead even when the grip on his wrist was gone. He starts to stroke the boya’s hair away from his face, watching the slight surprise and embarrassment fade to contentment.
“You have a fever.” He states a few seconds later, when the boya’s eyes had closed again. Shinichi frowns, then opens his eyes slightly. “Don’t tell Haibara?”
Akai lets him see the disapproval on his face, but doesn’t move from his place. Shinichi quirks his lips at him, eyes closing again. Akai huffs, because if the boya’s fever doesn’t break or rises, he’d be facing the wrath of the mini-scientist next door.
Well. He‘d just have to stay vigilant then. He doesn’t have any problems with staying up all night, and he silently takes the chair from the teen’s study table and reclaims his position near the boy. Thankfully for him, the fever breaks just a few minutes before dawn, and Akai was just starting to stand when the teen’s face scrunches in his sleep.
Akai snickers silently in his head, suddenly seeing Conan, when a tear slips out from the Shinichi’s eye. Then the teen whispers, “Goodbye. . .Ran. . .”
The agent slowly sits back on the chair, levelling a stare outside the window. He is. . . disappointed, he supposes, on how Shinichi’s relationship with Ran had turned out. He can see the similarities between his and Akemi’s relationship in the past, though of course there were some major differences.
Perhaps those differences were what caused this break.
While Akai had been Moboroshi Dai when he was dating Akemi, he had still been Rye, and he had times when he had to leave her behind to complete a mission assigned to him. Akemi, despite that she wasn’t an actual member of the Organization, had still been a part of it, so she understood.
Ran. . . simply hadn’t.
He can’t help but wonder, if they had continued their relationship, and Dai had changed to Akai, would their relationship break as well? Akai would like to think that it wouldn’t, but he knows.
His own mother had gotten tired of it as well, and she had admitted as much. The only thing attaching her to his father was them. Shukichi and Sera had been her reminder, but Ran didn’t have any. All she had were promises over a phone, and random meetings where she had to watch the boy she loved crumple in pain over something she didn’t know. And those meetings would still be filled with Shinichi solving a case, not really able to give her his full attention.
So Akai understood. He really did. But at times like these, when he could see how a girl had managed to break the boya he admired and respected when a poison hadn’t, he remembers a little boy wearing glasses.
He remembers Conan, trying to shield her from his gaze when the boya still didn’t know if he could be trusted. Remembers how Conan kept smiling for her, and kept reassuring her that Shinichi cares for her.
Why wasn’t Conan enough to keep her attached to Shinichi? Why, when Conan _was_ Shinichi?
Or perhaps it did. It attached her to Shinichi, but she was prepared to give her whole self to him when Shinichi wasn’t. Because Shinichi was a detective first and foremost before anything else. Because a case would always become a higher priority over the girl he loves, no matter how much he loves that girl.
Perhaps it was better this way, with the two of them simply being friends, or family in everything but blood. Because, Akai thinks as light starts to creep inside the room, Shinichi would have broken.
He would have broken, because Ran wouldn’t have been able to fully support him in his endeavors. He would have broken, because he would try to lean on her, but she wouldn’t be there. She wouldn’t have been able to catch his fall.
4. Chapter 4
“KID!” was roared behind Kaito as he turns around the corner. He laughs, and pauses just long enough to give Inspector Nakamori who was completely covered in pink bubble gum a taunting salute, before he runs straight for the stairs that would lead to the roof.
His tricks—pranks—had gone off without a hitch, Hakubastard wasn’t here, he had managed to steal the gem successfully, and it was a weekend so he’d be able to sleep in after this! Really, the only thing that would make his night better was if this gem turns out to be Pandora.
He reaches the roof, and he strides confidently into the open space. Here, he can distantly hear the screams of his fans below, and Kaito just smiles a bit more widely. The helicopter hadn’t spotted him yet, so he holds up the gem to the light of the full moon.
As always, he holds his breath, and releases a tiny disappointed sigh as the gem simply sparkles, no red gem inside it. Not Pandora then.
He turns to lean on the fence, and nearly gets a heart attack when he catches sight of something moving on the opposite roof. He stills, and it shifts again, this time, catching the light of the moon.
It was just a black cloth, tied to a vent.
Kaito loosens his grip on his card-gun, laughing under his breath at himself. That’s right, he knows another thing that makes his heist, actually every heist from now on, better.
Snake was gone, under the custody of the police, and the Crows were finally facing justice. He didn’t understand the full details, or how it happened, but he did know the one that made it possible.
Meitantei-kun. | c0918c1c20b5482bb8a5bbb255c54778 | ['f695ba4d48704122a8dccfcf2c297f9b'] | Kaitou had been able to bring together scraps of his Poker Face to weakly rebut, "Don't pack too much!" and was answered by a smirk that was usually only seen on KID's face. Once he was sure that the door had closed behind his detective, Kaitou dropped down to the floor, silently whimpering in his head.
'So unfair!'
7. Interruptions #1
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> It all starts with a favor he owed to KID. Knowing KID, Shinichi had better start preparing for the unexpected. But KID had better be prepared as well. After all, plans never go the way they should be with Shinichi around.
Kaito had just pulled out his backpack from seemingly nowhere when Conan returned to the room, having changed to casual clothes and carrying a backpack with him. He smiled at the pre-teen, previous embarrassment compartmentalized by Poker Face for the moment. He really did appreciate how Conan preferred wearing more casual clothes compared to the formal suit wear he had seen Shinichi wear in some newspaper clippings.
Wearing denim jeans, and the KID part of his brain immediately took notice of the familiar ball-belt and powered-sneakers, an opened checkered polo over a loose white shirt, Conan was the epitome of boyish youth. The glasses he wore merely emphasized the look, instead of the expected nerdy look the oversized spectacles brought to mind. How his tantei-kun managed to pull that off, he only had the boy's naturally good genes to blame.
Conan gestured towards the backpack in the magician's hands, slightly amused. "I think this marks the first time I've actually seen you with your tools, Kaitou."
Kaito grinned, only the knowledge that Conan was referring to the _Kaitou_ of Kaitou KID allowing his heart to remain calm. ( _Or is he? Dammit, I hate feeling like a detective_.) "Oh, but this is for Kurosaki Ken, cousin." Rolling his eyes, Conan slung his pack over his shoulder. "Well, anyway, have you figured out where to go?"
Kaito jumped to his feet, hand itching to ruffle the mini-detective's hair, self-preservation stopping him from actually doing so. "I might have heard of a carnival just near Beika. It seems that they have a mystery theme going on, are you interested? We can take the train and get there in just a few minutes. After that," Kaito flung his arms outwards, ever the showsman, "We'll go where the winds will take us!"
A soft smile graced Conan's lips. He was still his parent's son after all, and he knew the allure of travelling as much as he knew his wayward parents. He simply needed stability as well, whereas his parents were content to hop from one continent to another constantly. Though, Ran was still a bigger part of his decision to stay rather than come with his parents.
Seeing the smile made Kaiot content, happy that one of his numerous backup plans had worked. As KID going to new places were always tempered with the need to scout for escape routes, and enjoying the scenery was brief, only a few seconds at the most.
"Then let's go! The world awaits!" Kaito bounded towards the door, only to snatch his hand back when it opened, and three people entered.
"Conan-kun! Let's play!"
Kaito had to immediately slam his Poker Face back on, bringing Kurosaki Ken to the surface. ( _Right, Conan's cousin from America. Graduate student, majored in Physics. Fun-loving, mischievous. Here with Conan for the weekend_.)
Meanwhile, Conan stepped forward to confront the intruders, giving Kaito time to fully immerse into Ken. "You guys! Why are you here? And aren't we too old to play?" came Conan's exasperated reply. Ayumi giggled, hands behind her back as she said. "Ai-chan told me to check on you, saying that you'd be 'up to no good' if you were left alone." Conan pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, muttering, "What the heck Haibara? That demon spawn."
Apparently, he hadn't muttered low enough, as Mitsuhiko gasped in affront, taking offence for the missing person of the Detective Boys group.
"Who are you?" The rude question was directed to Kaito—Ken—by Genta, who was pointing a finger at him accusingly.
"Yo! I'm Kurosaki Ken, you can call me Ken-nii-chan!" Tilting his head towards Conan, he confirmed. "That's the right suffix, I hope?"
Conan tugged at his ear in irritation, having been forced to listen to Mitsuhiko's aggressive defense of Haibara's character. "Yeah, don't worry Ken-nii," Kaito was only mildy surprised to find Conan was able to adjust to his character change easily, "These are my classmates; Ayumi, Genta, and Mitsuhiko."
"Oi Conan!" Genta yelled. "You're not doing our introduction right!"
"What?" Mitsuhiko spluttered, turning red in embarrassment. "We're doing that? No way!" Ayumi pouted. "Aw, why not? We're the Detective Boys and proud of it!"
Ken smiled, putting one hand on Conan's shoulder. "The Detective Boys? Ah, I've heard about you guys! COna has shared some stories about you before."
"He had?" Ayumi's cheeks flushed pink. (Kaito snickered inwardly at Conan's embarrassed suffering face. _So Ojou-san still has that crush on him huh? And he calls me Casanova_.)
Mitsuhiko frowned at the obvious crush the girl has for Conan, slight jealousy tainting his voice as he asked, "He did? Who are you to Conan-kun then?"
( _What a loaded question_. Kaito internally mused the many ways he could answer as Ken introduced himself cheerfully. _Thief to his detective? Ally to his cause? Friends bonded over similar fates? Lover-_ )
Kaito had to struggle to keep Ken on his face as his brain screeched to a halt. Nope. No brain. Not going there. He was pretty sure he didn't like Tantei-kun like _that_. Nope. |
2e946dfeba52426ba3e7ae751f76cf9d | ['f698fcd58e0346488b4abea9c2ca32a8'] | “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was all about _your_ needs, Killer,” Sebastian Smythe said with faux understanding. “I thought this was, what do you people call it, a free country?”
“But vampires don’t decorate!” Even to his own ears, Blaine was beginning to sound ridiculous. But he couldn’t let up. He just couldn’t.
His training had sucked, he’d just learned he missed out on Christmas with his dad – whom he didn’t even officially have anymore (like he had no social life, no friends and, come to think of it, next to no hopes of ever finding anyone to actually like Blaine the Boy, without being intimidated by Blaine the Slayer) and he couldn’t be at home over-eating these problems in the comfort of his room like an average person, what with his Slayer metabolism and his mom’s occasional dire need to go to Walmart twice a day, so damn him if he wasn’t at least going to have. Those. Lights.
Sebastian Smythe laughed, incredulous (sure, it wasn’t one of Blaine’s brighter comebacks), and looked at him as if Blaine had just morphed into a fascinating creature from another planet. It only irritated Blaine further.
“Look, I’ll stake you if you don’t hand over those lights right now. I mean it,” Blaine snarled sliding a hand inside his jacket and the vampire must have believed him because the amusement in his eyes dimmed to something akin to wariness. He seemed ready to back off.
“Blaine!”
Unfortunately, their tense staring contest ended in a premature tie.
“Over here, mom,” Blaine called, not taking his eyes off his adversary.
The vampire’s air of nonchalance was back up in no time. Sebastian Smythe guessed Blaine wouldn’t, in fact, stake him in front of his mother, and he guessed right.
“Oh, honey, I’ve been calling you for ages! What were you doing?” She then noticed Sebastian and frowned, eyes darting uncertainly between them. “Who’s this? Are you ok?”
“I’m fine, mom. I was just getting the lights.”
“Well, we have to go. Apparently some people got attacked by a rabid dog on the parking lot and I don’t want to stick around to find out what kind of dog it was. I heard the maintenance guy talking about it on his way out. Thank god I parked so close.”
Sebastian Smythe leered. “Sounds like something right up your alley, Ki—”
“Why don’t we get going and you can tell me on the way home?” Blaine interrupted, while his mother’s face grew increasingly confused.
“Who are you? Is this a friend?” she asked Blaine, wary and hopeful at the same time, while Sebastian Smythe fixed him with a baffled look.
“What, your mom doesn’t know?” he asked.
“Know what?” Pam narrowed her eyes at her son and the vampire.
“That Sebastian used to go to Dalton,” Blaine was quick to recover, wide eyes locked on Sebastian’s as he attempted to silently communicate that the vampire would pay with his unlife if he so much as breathed a word on slaying. “He was a—a great—”
“—lacrosse player,” Sebastian Smythe supplied.
“Singer,” Blaine said at almost the same time, and there was no way of unsaying it.
“ _And_ singer,” Sebastian agreed. “A proper extra-curricular devil.”
“Oh, so you know each other? I’m Blaine’s mom,” Pam looked less suspicious, and before Blaine could protest in any way, the vampire was thrusting his free hand at his mother, introducing himself with a flourish similar to the one Blaine witnessed when they met almost two months prior.
“Sebastian Smythe,” he said in a disarming manner. “ _Enchanté de faire votre connaissance_.”
Blaine wondered if he should ask Sue about that, like a good Slayer, but also couldn’t help but feel it was more of a Sebastian Smythe thing than an incubi thing. Either way, Pam was hooked.
“Aren’t you a charmer,” she smiled at the vampire.
“Yeah, everyone seems to thinks so,” Blaine commented dryly. His mother was revelling in attention and Blaine had another impression that Sebastian Smythe did that a _lot_.
“Are you here on holiday?”
“I used to live around here but I’m visiting some relatives and my home away from home,” the vampire shrugged, glancing briefly at Blaine. “Though it might turn into an extended visit.”
“And how did you two connect?” his mother was being progressively curious, as usual. “Excuse me for saying, but you seem quite older than Blaine.”
“We went to the same party,” Blaine replied, preventing any ridiculous fabrications from Sebastian Smythe. “Hey, mom. We should get going.”
“Right.” She refocused on Blaine as if seeing him for the first time today.
“Can I be of any assistance, ma’am?” Sebastian Smythe gestured at the overflowing cart, and what in the _what_ —Blaine saw his mother honest to god preen –who even talked like that! Blaine glared at both of them as his mother engaged in further light talk with the vampire.
“Sadly, no—Blaine is in fact quite strong, even if he doesn’t look it.” Blaine wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. Or maybe swallow Sebastian Smythe first.
“Well, looks can be deceiving,” said Sebastian Smythe, catching Blaine’s eye.
“But you’re welcome to ride with us. We’re headed downtown,” Pam said. “And now I’ve met you, I would feel terrible knowing we left you behind to mad dogs,” she added.
“That won’t be necessary, mom. I’m sure we’re out of Sebastian’s way,” Blaine gritted out instead, staring at the vampire whose eyes seemed to glint when Blaine called him by his name, and Blaine didn’t like it at all.
“Actually,” Sebastian said, “you’re headed exactly my way, so I would very much like a ride, thank you.” The vampire smiled at his mother, a sickeningly sweet, boy-next-door smile of perfectly white, blunt teeth, and Blaine could see she was gone. | 60fce9fb2ab549629b4ea563016693e8 | ['f698fcd58e0346488b4abea9c2ca32a8'] | Acutely aware of all the places the tall lean body on top of him was pressed down against his own, Blaine felt his face heat up, simultaneously cursing in his head the fact that Sebastian Smythe probably felt it, too. At least the blood was rushing to Blaine’s face, and not his . . . Fertility parts. . . ugh—and _why_ did he have to think about _that_ of all the things he could think about at that very moment! He stiffened his grip on the stake as he felt a surge of– something— he did not want to name or deal with right now-- jolt around in his stomach and pool dangerously lower. What was _wrong_ with him?
Was it the weird skin mojo that Sebastian did, navigating the stream of these ridiculous thoughts and uncontrollable silly responses that Blaine’s body seemed prone to? His right hand was against Blaine’s throat, but Blaine didn’t feel any mysterious tingles like last time. . . Only ordinary vampire tingles. Combined with hyper-awareness. Nothing clouded about it at all.
Things have been admittedly weird between them ever since that coffee meeting which Sebastian Smythe insisted on referring to and Blaine absolutely refused to refer to as ‘date’.
There was a beat.
“Killer?”
Blaine didn’t even notice Sebastian lifting his head to level their faces, and the wary, wide green-eyed stare took him by surprise. He opened his mouth to either say something or maybe to push Sebastian Smythe’s lips down to his, seeing as his stake-free hand found its way up the vampire’s neck and those green eyes instantly chased the movement of Blaine’s mouth—
“Um—sorry. Am I interrupting something?” a curious voice asked to their right and they both whipped their heads around to discover Blaine’s vamp No. 3, who finally decided to grace the night with his presence. The response was momentary.
“No,” Blaine replied and, pushing Sebastian Smythe, whose simultaneous and exasperated cry of “ _Yes_!” he barely registered, off him, he sprang into action.
In the end, it wasn’t a very long fight. The vamp was dusted in a couple of clean, swift moves. Blaine only jumped at the excuse to get up and away from the other vampire, who was currently watching him, still on the ground and casually propped on his elbows.
“What is it?”
“What is what?” Blaine played stupid.
“What’s eating you?” he pressed. Blaine scoffed.
“What makes you think something’s _eating_ me?” Blaine made a show of being disgusted at the choice of words.
“Please don’t make me go all girly-gay on this, and just spit it out,” the vampire rolled his eyes and Blaine glared, offended.
“You’re obnoxious.”
“Obnoxious people give the most straightforward advice. Which is the best advice,” he said with a tight-lipped smile. “So try me.”
There was a beat.
“Fine,” Blaine huffed. “Today at school a girl caught on fire— spontaneously combusted, out of the blue, all on her own. While it most definitely falls into the funky Slayer-stuff category, we don’t know who or what caused it, and we have no idea where to begin looking. It happened at the gym, where we have try-outs tomorrow— semi-annual try-outs which I completely forgot about and therefore have not prepared for— and I’m afraid it may happen again, because the girl who combusted—Kitty Wilde—was supposed to try out for the team, and now she can’t, which makes me wonder if she could have been purposefully eliminated. I may be the Slayer but I still have no idea how to stop it. And it’s obviously not something you can hit or stab with a pointy wooden stick.” Blaine started pacing wildly in the middle of his speech, his breath coming faster as he went on. “I have a solo audition for Glee next week, for which I have not even picked out a song, let alone started preparing, and my Watcher is hell-bent that I quit Glee altogether because it’s ‘a distraction’ and ‘Slayers are not entertainers’—somehing she obviously doesn’t question when I’m throwing girls into the air for the sake of a Cheerio performance,” he vented, not noticing how the vampire’s eyebrows progressively nearing his hairline. “Oh! And also, I’m probably failing French. Voila!” Blaine finished with a grandiose swipe of his free arm, letting it flop back against his hip.
Sebastian Smythe considered him for a moment.
“While you’ll have to let me get back to you on the spontaneous combustion and song-choice, I can, however, be of assistance with the French issue,” he said.
Blaine gaped at him, incredulous. That was _so_ the last thing he’d expected to hear. The vampire just smirked.
“ _Tout de suite_.” |
278e23b5cd26468380e25e9e6f6ba510 | ['f699bf469c8f4318a13340e15ee18a2e'] | "I meant exactly what I said. You're not going, Tony. Have you forgotten that you got stabbed through recently? If you go you risk reopening the wound, and with it that big, it is a risk too great to ignore. It's a miracle you survived last time," Bruce told him firmly. Tony may be stubborn, but Bruce wasn't budging on this one. He was worried about his friend. He hadn't had enough time to fully recover yet and another fight with Thanos in his state would only end in disaster, no matter how upgraded his suit was. Bruce shuddered thing how Tony's mindset could also end up killing him if he faced Thanos now.
"He's right Tony," Steve stepped in, "You can't fight and survive with a gaping wound. It would be better if you stayed here."
"No, I need to get out there and get back at Thanos so we can end this bloody nightmare and I can get my kid back."
"It will do Peter no good if he comes back only to learn that you died," Steve told him angrily, "He would be heartbroken and if he's anything like you he would probably do something reckless and get himself hurt." Tony went quiet. Steve's eyes softened, "Look, we're not saying you don't get to fight him, but this time it would be best if you stayed behind. It's just a get in and get out mission after all. There will be another chance."
After Friday had told him the suit was ready, Tony was off the sofa and in his lab working through the footage and energy signatures he was exposed to in the fight. He was able to locate it easily enough, he is Tony Stark after all, and all-powerful stones give off pretty distinct signatures especially when their power hit you point blank. It then took slightly longer for him to be able to triangulate where the source was. He told the team and they started working on a plan to get a stone, one stone should be enough he had said. Unfortunately, that led them to where they are now, with Tony insisting to go and the others shooting him down entirely.
It was to no one's surprise that Tony did not end up going on the mission. He had been mostly stubbornly set on going until May had marched into the meeting room and dragged Tony out to talk to him. When they returned, with Pepper in tow, May had announced that Tony wouldn't be going and Tony just crossed his arms and scowled but didn't say anything to protest. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Before Steve had boarded the ship Tony and Nebula had brought to Earth, he had turned and hugged Tony, ignoring his slight flinch. He smiled softly when he returned it. If something happened to him, he could go easier knowing that he and Tony weren't on the same rocky ground they had been on for over a year. Their once strong friendship was on the mend again and Steve was grateful for their talk in the lab, Steve was happy he got the chance to apologise properly.
Steve looked around at his team on the ship as Nebula and Rocket started it up. Thor, Natasha, Clint even Bruce were all looking steely and determined. They had called up Scott who had been spending the last few days on a different floor with his daughter. They had both needed this time together and everyone was all too pleased to give it to them, especially Tony who hadn't hesitated to tell them that if they wanted anything, to just tell him. He had suited up, and with a last goodbye to Cassie, had boarded the ship.
They were ready for this, Steve was sure. They would not lose. Not again. Never again.
* * *
Tony was pacing again. Rhodey sighed before heaving himself off the sofa and towards Tony. He gently grabbed his arm and led him to the couch in the lab. Tony struggled at first but eventually conceded and slumped down on the sofa. Rhodey sat back next to him, rubbing his back gently.
"It'll be fine Tony," Rhodey reassured him softly, "You know them, they're a team to be reckoned with. They will win."
Tony snorted bitterly, "Yeah, because it worked out so well last time."
"Things are different this time." Tony raised a disbelieving eyebrow as if to say ‘how?'. Rhodey had been fluent in Tony-language for decades.
"Well firstly, they have the element of surprise. Thanos doesn't expect them to recover and be on the hunt for him so soon, let alone be able to find him or be stupid enough to try. Secondly, they are fighting to get back what they lost. We didn't know or realise what was at risk last time. This time, it has happened, and their broken hearts will work in their favour. Desperation is often one of the best motivators. Kinda like Afghanistan."
Usually Tony would flinch at the reminder of a time he would love to forget, but he was too tired and keyed up and had experienced stuff worse than that now. "I guess so," Tony reluctantly agreed with Rhodey's speech. He was right though, desperation was often a key motivator. He had been attacked by enough desperate people to know that and what they can do. And the desperation, determination and raw power that the team had… yeah, they might just be able to do it.
Tony drummed his fingers onto his knee. Then his leg started jiggling, up and down. Then he was shifting around. Eventually, he just got up.
"No more pacing," Rhodey told him with a glare, "It's fraying on my nerves even more."
"I knew you were nervous as well," Tony smiled slightly. Rhodey rolled his eyes. | b2a516f86f1b4040b6bc798b95ff8d84 | ['f699bf469c8f4318a13340e15ee18a2e'] |
Snowflakes and Soft Smiles
**Author's Note:**
* Translation into Русский available: LINK by LINK
When Tony woke up, it took him a moment to realise where he was. Sun filtered past the curtains at the windows and Tony felt refreshed for the first time in a while. It had definitely been a good idea to go on this holiday retreat to a cabin Tony owned in the middle of nowhere which he had forgotten about. They hadn't had a chance to get away over Christmas or new year as they were with family and work conventions had to be organized and attended, not that Tony had much part in the organizing, that was all Pepper and Obadiah doing the work and him pretending to be paying attention. On second thought, the attending part was also sketchy, Tony couldn't really remember much besides wanting to leave and get back to Peter. That was what he did in the end, obviously- he did what he wanted after all, and his son was more important than some company gala. He only stayed for about an hour or two before he disappeared to get back to his son who was more than pleased to see him, running straight into his open arms as soon as he opened the door chanting his name.
That brings him back to now. He had been able to take time off work (Obie was left in charge, with Pepper obviously) to take Peter to this cabin he had been reminded of. Peter had been so excited when told about it, he had been missing his father with all the events he had been forced into going to and couldn't wait to spend some alone time with him.
Thinking of Peter -not that he was ever far from his mind anyway- brought Tony's attention to the warm bundle in his arms. He looks down and couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face at his sleeping son, his arms tightening around him. He was adorable, his curls wide and unruly, eyes softly closed, he looked like a little angel. Tony's little angel.
Tony checked the time from the clock on the nightstand. 9:00, that was just about a reasonable time to get up. Tony nudged Peter gently, bringing one of his hands up to his hair and began running his fingers through the beautiful mess.
"Peter, its time to wake up sweetheart," Tony whispered softly, bringing his kid out of his sleep. Peter's eyes fluttered and he brought his fists up to his eyes, rubbing them before they opened properly, a yawn stretching his mouth open in the most adorable way. Peter blinked sleepily before his eyes found his fathers and then his mouth stretched into a wide sleepy smile.
Tony's heart filled with warmth at the sight. Nothing made him happier than seeing Peter smile.
"Morning daddy," Peter said brightly, sleep falling away, quickly being replaced with his usual energy.
"Good morning baby" Tony sat up, Peter still in his arms, "What do you say we get up and have some breakfast?" Peter nodded enthusiastically, but neither of them moved. After a few minutes of cuddling, Tony dragged them out of bed and to the kitchen.
"What do you feel like today, bambino?" Tony looked down at the child on his hip.
"Pancakes!" came the excited response, Peter flinging his arms up eagerly. Tony laughed slightly.
"Of course. I should have known." Tony put Peter down on one of the chairs around the table before getting to work making the requested pancakes, Peter rambling all the while. His chatter filled the silence as he talked about how fun this was going to be, how much they were going to do together and how he couldn't wait to explore.
Tony put a plate of chocolate pancakes in front of the toddler with a glass of milk, his own plate and mug of coffee waiting for him on the counter.
"Thank you, Daddy!"
Tony kissed his forehead in reply, before sitting next to him and starting his breakfast. Peter was still talking excitedly, the words only interrupted when he took a bit of food before he chewed and swallowed it quickly and starting up again. Occasionally, Tony would interrupt to remind him to eat or breath or chew properly, sometimes even giving a comment of his own, but otherwise, he was happy to let Peter do all the talking. He had missed this, the feeling of having nowhere to be, of having no one on your back about doing something or other, just spending time with his son.
Tony had finished his breakfast and was on his second mug of coffee while Peter was finishing his last pancake when he abruptly cut off his stream of babble and gasped. Tony looked up sharply, his heart skipping a beat in worry, only to find his son staring out the kitchen window. Tony turned to look too and found snowflakes falling gently to the ground. He grinned. Having lived in Malibu all his life, Peter had never seen snow before and Tony couldn't wait to see what he would do.
"Its snowing" Peter said, wonder clear in his voice. He quickly turned to his father, "Can we go play in it? please please please!" Tony chuckled.
"Finish your pancake first, Pete, then we can bundle up and go outside." Tony didn't think he had ever seen Peter finish three-quarters of a pancake so fast. He was then jumping off the stool – giving Tony a heart attack in the process – and taking off to their room. Tony ran after him quickly after downing the rest of his coffee, regretting that he had let Pete have the sugar this early in the morning. |
753a0f390995482d8a589ff4ccc4f5cf | ['f69a083463a5421dafdfcc17e5dae668'] | “Yuuri, I know you. What’s really the matter?” Viktor asked, slightly stepping forward.
Yuuri, noticing Viktor getting closer, instinctively stepped back greatly. Viktor’s eyes widened at Yuuri’s action, he could feel his heart in his stomach. His hand twitched slightly as imagination began to overpower Viktor’s rationality.
“I-I,” Yuuri stammered, his eyes meeting with the man he loved deeply, his breathing staggered and his words shook; he couldn't lie to those eyes, “I can’t do this anymore, I can’t be with you!” He blurted out, his hands instantly covering his mouth in shock that he'd revealed it all to Viktor.
Tears pricked in Yuuri’s eyes, he wasn’t meant to say that. He wasn’t meant to say anything! Guilt and regret began to form a never-ending pit in his stomach as Yuuri came to the realisation that he’d ruined everything between them for eternity.
______________________________
Viktor returned back to the present, he rest his head back onto the cupboards behind him and began inhaling deep breaths. Memories from that day continuously replayed over in his mind, he always pondered how he could’ve fixed it all - how he could’ve kept them together. But in the end, it wasn’t his choice. He had to respect Yuuri’s decision.
Viktor’s head shot up at the sound of approaching footsteps, his eyes widened at the realisation of who it might be. The only person he knew who was still potentially awake was Yuuri. Viktor quickly scrambled up off of the ground, not wanting Yuuri to see him verging on a breakdown.
Yuuri rubbed his hands over his face in an attempt to make it seem like he wasn’t crying recently. His heart stopped as he heard a clutter in the kitchen, Yuuri froze on the spot as he heard a string of Russian curse words being muttered from the kitchen. Yuuri found himself wandering over to where the kitchen archway was. He hid behind the wall, allowing himself to peek ever so carefully into the kitchen to see Viktor struggling to pour a simple cup of coffee. Yuuri’s mouth fell open as he noticed Viktor’s bloodshot eyes and dishevelled hair.
He had tried so hard to convince himself that Viktor wasn’t hurting as much as he was that he couldn’t see the obviously broken man before him.
Yuuri choked down a gasp, quickly looking away from Viktor and leaning heavily on the wall that separated them from each other. If only he had known. Yuuri ran a hand through his hair before quickly darting out of his home, he needed to clear his mind - if only for a moment. He sprinted as fast as he possibly could, the cold air nipping at his face. He regretted not thinking to take a jacket with him, but he needed to clear his head as fast as he possibly could. So, he ran. His head was so clouded with thoughts that he had no idea where he running to. He just ran.
Yuuri was never good at running, in fact - he despised it. It was the most strenuous activity he had to endure when training. But here he was, running (practically sprinting) as if his life depended on it. Strain and fatigue began to settle in fast, his body couldn’t handle the lack of sleep and heavy activity. Eventually, Yuuri doubled over in pain. He struggled for breath as he began to massage a stitch that had quickly formed at his side. His unsteady breath formed clouds in front of his eyes, his eyes began to wander around his surroundings he noticed that he had run to the beach. He looked around before slowly making his way over to the rocks that overlooked the sand and sea. He muffled a groan as he sat down on the smooth rocks and watched as the sea rolled in and retreated.
The sea always helped him calm down, it was mainly the sound. The crash and sweeping of the waves could lull Yuuri into a daze easily. It was calm at the beach, so calm that Yuuri slowly forgot about his the pain in his side and his mental struggles. The salty air consumed him, he breathed it in deeply. He forgot about how cold he was, how his legs began to hurt, about Viktor; about everything. He let his imagination take him somewhere where he could calm down even further.
Yuuri closed his eyes, only the waves to keep him company as he dragged himself into his imagination. He imagined outstretched arms. Yuuri found himself wanting to jump into the arms, and he did. He was greeted with a soft surface but the arms were strong and they held Yuuri close tightly. They held him so tight, almost like they were afraid to let go. Yuuri let his imagination travel further and he tilted his head upwards to see who the arms belonged to. He was greeted with a loving smile and eyes that held all the love in the world. Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat, his lips parting slightly as he envisioned Viktor before him. | 77bc0eec6536415ab57626ea42de1077 | ['f69a083463a5421dafdfcc17e5dae668'] | “But Phichit, he- he sounded so dreamily smug about it all! Like you two were already dating!”
Yuuri chuckled, “I’ll add 'easily jealous' to a list of your qualities.”
“I’m not jealous!” Viktor scoffed.
Yuuri rolled his eyes before sitting down on the bench again and signalling Viktor to sit next to him, Viktor did as commanded - he tried to remember a time when he didn’t follow every order Yuuri gave him.
Yuuri’s ‘orders’ were rare but always had a serious tone to them.
“Phichit did ask me out when I was training in Detroit with him, we spent all our time with each other and we were really close. I did like him a little at the time but I still said no,” Yuuri shrugged, shivering slightly as a sudden cold wind whipped past.
Without thought, Viktor quickly draped his coat over Yuuri, their eyes connected and Yuuri blushed slightly as he snuggled into the coat, a smile curling upon his face.
“Why'd you say no?” Viktor whispered softly and Yuuri chuckled awkwardly as he rubbed his neck and looked to the floor.
“I might’ve liked Phichit but I was in _love_ with someone else,” Yuuri shrugged.
“And did you date them?”
Yuuri shook his head, “we’d never even met each other. It was just a dream I wanted so desperately.”
“Who was it?” Viktor found the words spilling out of his mouth without a filter, “sorry, that’s too personal, isn’t it?”
Yuuri shook his head with a smile directed at Viktor.
“It was you,” Yuuri replied embarrassingly after a long pause between the two.
Viktor stopped on the spot in shock.
“Phichit liked to tease me about it because I was so set on being with you that I didn't even register anyone else’s advances towards me,” Yuuri chuckled to himself, “he likes to tease me about it even more now because of what happened,” a dust of pink began to coat Yuuri’s face.
“Me?” Viktor managed to choke out.
“Well, yeah,” Yuuri laughed, “I idolised you, I thought about you all the time... Thoughts of you motivated me to get better at skating. I always thought ‘would Viktor like this?’ When I fell I always thought about how you’d tell me to pick myself up and continue on. I was consumed by you which probably explains why I've never dated anyone.”
“I guess dreams really do come true, then,” Viktor chuckled, his eyes not wavering from Yuuri’s.
Yuuri smiled back at his long-time idol.
A slight smirk appeared on Viktor's face as he reached his hand out to tilt Yuuri’s head up softly, Viktor leant in slightly. Both men began to breathe deeply as they got close to one another, they had both missed the touch of each other more than they both cared to admit.
“I’ve missed you so much,” Viktor sighed on Yuuri’s lips causing him to blush even more.
Yuuri was the one that closed the gap between them, he needed Viktor’s lips on his again. The sudden move, on Yuuri's part, shocked Viktor but he enjoyed it, more than he cared to admit, when Yuuri took control.
The taste of Viktor and the sensations he felt when he was with him was a drug to Yuuri and he simply couldn’t get enough. This kiss between them was more sentimental, it was slow and soft but passion still burnt hot between them.
Viktor pulled away, both the men breathing deeply as Viktor uttered, “I’ve missed everything about you.”
They leant their foreheads against one another, both smiling in pure bliss.
“Thank you for answering my dream, Viktor,” Yuuri whispered breathlessly, shuffling Viktor’s coat to wrap tighter around him.
“Tebya odnogo ya iskal,” Viktor muttered to Yuuri as he intertwined their hands together.
“What does that mean?” Yuuri wondered aloud, his eyes not wavering from Viktor’s.
“You’re the one I was looking for,” Viktor whispered back, his eyes moving from looking at their hands clasped together to meet Yuuri’s gaze.
Yuuri grasped Viktor’s shirt tightly and quickly dragged him toward him so his lips could he upon his once again. And, this time, he would never let go.
**Author's Note:**
> I hope you all enjoyed this little oneshot, I did it just for fun and to get back into the mojo of writing (and also because I'm obsessed with YOI hahahahahhahaha oops) I hope you all liked this little fluff piece! I might write some more YOI stuff later on, let me know if you'd like to see more from more! Be sure to leave comments and kudos! <3 Thanks for getting through this atrocious shitpost lol.
>
> __________
>
> Viktor's Russian line is derived from Google translate so let me know if I need to fix it or anything! |
a98b5020ea0a402c8d8ced834477d90d | ['f69cefc0940b4977ba12afd383003e63'] |
Our Lady of Dark Times
Star-sprinkled darkness, wind booming on his metal skullpiece. Shrike stood by the rest of the Lazarus Brigade, away from the campfire of the once-born officers, and heard without listening their boasts and tales. It had been a hard day, danger warnings screaming behind his eyes as the Tezla guns of the enemy made blue threads of lightning dance around him. The once-born needed time to relax, an alien concept to Shrike, who required a few hours of sentient standby for self-repair every day or so.
But once-born had strange impulses that couldn’t be controlled or even understood, and so the firelight rippled across dirt- and blood-stained faces as the stories were told.
“... an’ then I ses to ‘er, wouldja believe it, I ses to ‘er “Yeah, same ta you y’ ole pissbucket,” an’ legs it over t’fence!” Gales of laughter followed this, ringing out through the night, and gradually subsided. Silence prowled among the men, punctured only by the sharp prickling sound of the fire. The shadows seemed deeper.
The once-born called Andringa leant back against his log and sighed. “It’s nights like this you see the Lady, you know.”
Someone said, “The who?”
There were a few sniggers, and Shrike saw Andringa’s eyes glint in the firelight. “You mean to say you’ve never heard of the Lady, Chusserby?” he said to the once-born who had spoken. “Your mother never told you of Her?” The capital H was as crisp and clear as if it had been written. This Lady was obviously of significance to the once-born, Shrike thought, and it would be prudent to listen now.
Chusserby mumbled something about an orphanage, but Andringa shook his head. “No matter. We can tell you now.
“The Lady - Our Lady of Dark Times - is said to be a goddess from the time before the Downsizing. She is patroness of lost things: battles, possessions, souls. She is a scavenger, and She wanders as She will, companionless. The Lady appears on nights like this, and on battlefields when the battle is done. She has never been seen twice by one man, and never with the same face, but we know it is Her.”
“How do you know?” piped up Chusserby.
Andringa held up a hand. “Just wait. That will come soon. Would you like to know what the Lady looks like? Yes?”
“But, Captain, sir,” said Chusserby, “I thought she never had the same -”
“Chusserby. Unless you would like to be on Jaeger-maintenance duty -” ah, so that explained the once-born who checked Shrike and the rest of the brigade for damage every day “- for the next week, you will stop talking and just listen.” Chusserby’s face burned with shame, and he sat back, shoulders hunched.
“Now, where was I? Yes, how She looks.
“No matter what face, or what the colour of her skin, the Lady is always tall and lean - a girl of no more than twenty years, sometimes as young as a child - and she is always wearing the same thing. She wears black boots with black laces, worn and faded, that have walked through more than they were made to. Not boots like ours, but dainty ladies’ boots like they wear in Paris, falling apart at the seams.
She wears knee-britches of some dark blue cloth than cannot be made now, but which they say was common before the Downsizing. In the winter, they are long trousers of the same cloth, tucked into Her boots.
On Her left wrist She wears four string bracelets, one for every member of the family that She lost in the Downsizing. Some say that one of those is pure, glowing white, and that that bracelet is for Her lost self.
She wears a man’s checkered red shirt over a short black tunic like those the Ancients wore, a tea-shirt. Both have seen much better days, ripped and faded.
She doesn’t have long hair like a woman should, but keeps it short. Not so short that her scalp will be burnt by the sun, but not so long that it falls into Her face.
All of this is unremarkable. Not seen since the Ancients’ time, sure, but nothing worth a second glance. What marks Her out as the Lady is Her eyes. They are completely black, not just the coloured part, but black over the whole eye. Black like night, like ink, like the Downsizing. They say that those eyes can see through a man’s face and straight into his soul.
“And so, my friends, that is Our Lady of Dark Times. Never seen twice by one man or in one skin.”
Andringa took a long pull from the silvered flask at his belt, obviously exhausted by all this talking. Uneasy silence reigned, and Shrike could see that the once-born Chusserby’s eyes were wide with fear and wonder. He would not sleep tonight, Shrike knew, and would be looking over his shoulder, checking for a tall young woman with ink-black eyes, for the next week. If Stalkers knew what exasperation was, Shrike would have felt exasperated, at the once-born and their foolish love and fear of all that was not-quite-human.
*
The story that Captain Andringa had told about the Lady stayed with Shrike for many, many years. He saw Andringa and young Chusserby and the man with the story about the washerwoman and all the rest of them fall and die and be resurrected, fighting once-borns’ wars even in death. He ran from the Battle of Three Dry Ships and carved a new life, if waht Shrike had could be called life, for himself. He killed people and served them and, on occasion, he even saved them. And all this time, without really knowing it at all, he looked for a girl with short hair and cloth bracelets and eyes like a starless night. He looked for the Lady, and he found Hester instead.
*
And on the night of his second death, in the cold mud of the Black Island with Hester kneeling at his side, Shrike looked past her -
\- and into the void-black eyes of a girl who looked not unlike Hester, actually, in boots and blue britches and red shirt, with a terrible, beautiful smile on her face -
\- and as darkness claimed him and the name Kit Solent rang clear as a bell through his circuitry, through the part of him older and more desperately human than his circuitry, Shrike knew that the Lady had, after a thousand years, found this lost soul at last.
**Author's Note:**
> i wrote this a year or two ago and found it today in the depths of my google docs while procrastinating. don't ask if there's any point to it, i won't be able to answer because i legitimately have no idea why i wrote this | d02d442f875c47909c5172f93784ca0b | ['f69cefc0940b4977ba12afd383003e63'] |
winter storms and winter soldiers
**Author's Note:**
> don't mind me, i'm just over here being weird about bucky barnes. nothing new. thought of this when i forgot my umbrella the other day and had to walk home in the rain. please comment and tell me what you think, i've never really written fic before and could use some feedback!
The rain is steady and cold, bullets of water that drive straight downwards in sheets and plaster the asset's long hair to his scalp and neck. This isn't a howling storm with thunder raging and lightning slipping a knife into the armour of the sky; nor is it the kind of friendly diamond sun-shower that's really just an excuse for a rainbow. No, this is just freezing water and concrete sky, the kind of rain that seems like it could go on forever.
The coldness doesn't bother the asset, or the damp. He's long since stopped caring about any physical sensation that isn't a sign of permanent damage to his body. Right now, if he concentrates, there is nothing but the rifle in his arms and the cobbled square below him and the knowledge that in two minutes' time, a bulletproofed black four-wheel drive will pull up, his target (a diplomat loudly and annoyingly advocating a ban on arms trading in Syria) will step out of said car, and he, the asset, invisible from the balcony, will take aim and pull the trigger.
The rain, however, isn't cooperating. It snakes down his face and blurs his goggles and turns his hair into dark, soaking tendrils that fall down his forehead into his eyes, despite the fact that he's under the canvas balcony-shade. He's not sure he'll even be able to see the target when she finally arrives, at this rate. The asset raises an arm to wipe the hair and some of the water out of his vision, then settles back into position: down on one knee, rifle barrel poking between the bars of the balcony railing, gaze intent on the side street from which the target will emerge.
(He tries to ignore the strange feeling that something is terribly wrong, and that he needs to be protecting somebody from this rain, somebody he cares about very much.)
The engine of the four-wheel drive is barely audible over the persistent smack of rain on cobbles, when it arrives. It’s standard diplomatic-vehicle fare: glossy black, tinted windows, heavily armoured. Nothing he hasn’t seen before.
(A thin, pale face swims into the asset’s mind, framed with sopping wet dark-blonde hair and set in determination, teeth chattering. He pushes it down.)
His opportunity, when it comes, will be brief. Standard bodyguard protocol is thorough, but there will be a second as the target exits the vehicle, maybe two, when nobody stands between her and the balcony. He’s going to have to be fast and decisive and precise; there will be no room for hesitation and absolutely no second chances. He knows he’s capable of completing the assignment, though.
(Panic, or at least the memory of panic, exasperation and fear and something else, deep and visceral, something he’d identify as love if he had any knowledge of it.)
Bodyguards are swarming around the car now, five or six of them, tall and burly in increasingly soaked black suits, fussing with phones and umbrellas. The asset ignores them. They’ll die if they have to, but his handler wants this to be quick and neat and as clean as possible. Only one person needs to bleed out their life onto the sidewalk today.
(“Jeez, Bucky, no need to get so worried. It’s just a bit of rain,” says the face, breaking off to cough unhealthily. “Not like I’m going to get pneumonia again, is it?”)
The asset aims, carefully, at the point which will contain an unprotected head in ten seconds. Memories are swirling in the back of his mind, punching and scrabbling at the blank amnesiac smokescreen preventing him from seeing anything clearly enough to recognise its shape.
(The voice behind the memory’s viewpoint - was that the Bucky the face mentioned? was that him? was that his own name, he could almost reach out and touch it, glorious recognition at his very fingertips - the voice says “Hey, better safe than sorry. I gotta take care of you now.”)
The door of the four-wheel drive opens, and a slim brown leg wearing a dark-coloured pencil skirt and matching stiletto is revealed. Breathe in, breathe out.
(“Cause you know, I’m on your side. I’m with you -”)
She steps out of the car fully, head in profile to where the asset kneels. His finger tightens on the trigger -
(“- till the end of the line, buddy.”)
The single bullet makes a tiny ripping noise as it crosses the rain-speckled distance and there is very suddenly a hole in the side of the target’s head. She staggers, drawing the attention of the bodyguards. They’re armed before her body hits the ground, yelling orders and sighting around the square’s perimeter, but the asset knows nothing if not how to conceal himself. He turns so that the metal of his left arm will not show any reflections and swiftly, silently, folds away the rifle.
The memories have been getting more and more persistent for the last few missions. The previous one, high summer in some generic American city, had the same nagging feeling that something was wrong. He felt like there was somewhere he had to be, something incredibly important he was missing - and it only got worse the more he tried to concentrate on the street, the loud, jubilant parade in red, white and blue.
He shouldn’t even have the slightest scrap of a memory that’s not of this life, that’s not of darkness and gunshots and politics and gleaming steel - but he has that thin, resolute face, and the fleeting certainty that the person it belongs to needs him. If the asset even so much as mentions it in passing to his handler, it’ll be back in the chair for sure. Nothing can affect his abilities. Nothing can affect the mission.
But he wants to know, so, so badly.
The asset shakes his head slightly, as if that’s going to dislodge memories rather than just rainwater, and melts back through the balcony door, leaving the bodyguards to shout amongst themselves and the rain to keep pouring down, freezing and relentless and fraught with almost-remembrance. |
80aa85f54289409cbc6c0c15a7153089 | ['f69f21917f764a36b978cf4ab83f92d7'] |
I just want to spend the weekend with you.
**Author's Note:**
> to contact me and yell at me:
>
> @deadbcozofbts on twitter and @dead_because_of_bts on Instagram :)))
>
> Also fuck i uploaded this before the hixtape got released but can WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT IT???
Jimin is walking home on a friday evening after work, with a box of manggaetteok and a hope to spend his entire weekend cuddling with Yoongi when he gets a text from him.
_ [Private Chat: _ **_Grumpy marshmallow_ ** _ and _ **_Jimmie likes to shimmie_ ** _ ] _
**Grumpy marshmallow:**
Wondering whether to work till late tonight or fuck it?
**Jimmie likes to shimmie:**
I BOUGHT US MANGGAETTEOK YOU BETTER BE HOME BY SEVEN
**Grumpy marshmallow:**
You look extra delicious today
**Jimmie likes to shimmie:**
u ain’t getting me if u don’t come by seven ;).
**Grumpy marshmallow:**
NO PLEASE SUNSHINE DONT DO THIS I AN DTIMG I WNST TK DIE
**Jimmie likes to shimmie:**
SHUT THE FUCK UP AND COME I AM WAKTJNG BYE
**Grumpy marshmallow:**
faine im on my wayy
**Jimmie likes to shimmie:**
Only if you would let me leak our chats so people would know you’re a soft hearted man who uses abbreviations like an idiot
**Grumpy marshmallow:**
If it makes you happy c:
Jimin swears he has never blushed harder, and realises that he should not have. Not in front of the lemmings who he calls friends.
Jeongguk peeps into Jimin’s chat and it feels like a truck ran over him. Min Yoongi, the most feared man in the whole of fucking South Korea is completely head over heels for Jimin, isn’t he?
_ [Private Chat: _ **_Yoonie hyung_ ** _ and _ **_Kook not cook_ ** _ ] _
**Kook not cook:**
OMG HYUNG JIMINIE IS AS RED AS THE SHIRT YUO BIUGHT HIM ON HIS BIRTFDAY
**Grumpy marshmallow:**
If you didn’t make Taehyung so happy, you would’ve been already dead.
**Kook not cook:**
u love me dont lie
**Grumpy marshmallow:**
I dont know what you are talking about. Fuck off.
**Kook not cook:**
Love u hyung <3
**Grumpy marshmallow:**
K.
**Kook not cook:**
ruDE
_ [Private Chat: _ **_Grumpy marshmallow_ ** _ and _ **_Jimmie likes to shimmie_ ** _ ] _
**Jimmie likes to shimmie:**
kookie says hii
**Grumpy marshmallow:**
Took the cab c:
What is this thing doing in our house
**Jimmie likes to shimmie:**
Tae says Kookie doesn’t deserve the hate
**Grumpy marshmallow:**
What is thing 2 doing in our house?
**Jimmie likes to shimmie:**
UR EOMMA WILL KILL YOU FOR ADDRESSING UR OWN BROTHER THAT QAY
**Grumpy marshmallow:**
she’ll nevaah know ;)
**Jimmie likes to shimmie:**
Ugh wtvr
WHNE WILL U COME???!
**Grumpy marshmallow:**
I’m on my wayyy
**Jimmie likes to shimmie:**
Fine bye.
Jimin is a very lively person. He hardly _ ever _ spells anything correctly on text, and he _ never _ used punctuations-especially full stops-unless he is mad. Yoongi knows that all too well and knows immediately after reading the text that Jimin is ten thousand percent, mad at him. He does not know what to do. He is trying. He swears he is, but work is harder than he expected. He _ has _ to work tomorrow but he also does not want to let Jimin down. Why is he such a useless idiot?
**Grumpy marshmallow:**
MINNIE?????
Jimin decides to ignore the text.
**Grumpy marshmallow:**
SUNSBINE????
Note: When Yoongi calls him sunshine, it melts Jimin’s heart. He is weak for that name.
_ He is weak for Yoongi in general. _
**Grumpy marshmallow:**
I AM BRINIGB YO FLOWERS PWKS SONT BE MAD SORRG MY SHUNSHINE MY MINNIE MT BABY I AM KN MY WAY
Even though he hates to admit it, Jimin is mad at Yoongi. He is mad because Yoongi has been so caught up with work lately that they hardly ever get to spend time together. More than Yoongi, however, he is mad at himself because he _ knows _ being a music producer has always been Yoongi’s dream, and he _ knows _ Yoongi loves it more than he could love anyone or anything else in this world. Jimin _ knows _ this job means a lot to Yoongi and he _ knows _ that Yoongi is doing everything he can to not let his work ruin their weekends. He _ knows _ Yoongi loves him unconditionally and he _ knows _ Yoongi is sorry.
But is it criminal for wanting to spend time with his boyfriend on a Friday night?
Scratch that. He means _ fiancé _ .
**Grumpy marshmallow:**
Minnie im sorry pls talk to me I’ll be there in ten. promise xx
Jimin smiles at the text. Yoongi is so soft for him, and he loves it.
People have this perception that Yoongi is too cold, too silent, too intense but Jimin knows the YoonYoon who lies under the facade of Min Yoongi. The YoonYoon who sings sappy love songs for him on camp nights. The YoonYoon who smiles radiantly in the morning and kisses him goodnight. The YoonYoon who wants _ chocolate chips _ pancakes on Sunday mornings. The YoonYoon who brings him flowers on Valentine’s Day, and bakes brownies for him. The YoonYoon who takes him on dinner dates and dresses up for him. The YoonYoon who loves him and never grows tired of his tantrums.
And Jimin guesses that tonight, his _ YoonYoon _ will have to watch him throw one of the biggest tantrums in the world.
He cannot wait.
*
After ten tortuous minutes of watching Taehyung eat Jeongguk’s face on their sofa, Jimin opens the door to Yoongi who arrives with tulips in one hand and a box of what looks likes brownies, in the other. | 468d3b224d8040cdb3dcb2bd07bd71c5 | ['f69f21917f764a36b978cf4ab83f92d7'] | “Are you telling me you got all of Yoongi’s pants here to hide just so he wouldn’t go to the studio tomorrow?” Jin asks him, breathlessly, trying to recover from the laughter but failing miserably.
“Every single pair.” Jimin giggles. Jin enters into another round of crazily laughing and Jimin joins in too, trying hard to not make Yoongi’s pants fall from his hands.
“I should do that with Joonie someday.” Jin says. Jimin giggles again.
“So will you _ pretty please _ hide them in your house for me?” Jimin asks, making sure to carve his eyes into perfect puppy eyes.
Jin laughs again, this time, a little fainter before taking some of the pants from Jimin’s hands and heading towards his house. Jimin follows him and they dump the crazily huge number of pants on Jin’s couch.
Jimin thanks him for the millionth time, wishes a goodnight to him and Namjoon who has not returned yet, and makes his way to his car.
Kim Seokjin is a god. Fuck, Kim Seokjin is a god.
When Namjoon moves down the stairs to the living room and sees Jin shutting the door, his eyes find a pile of pants resting on their couch.
“Honey, why is our apartment flooded in Gucci jeans and Ralph Lauren’s pants?”
Jin giggles and pulls Namjoon into a soft kiss.
Park Jimin is from a different universe, he knows it.
*
When Yoongi awakes, he finds Jimin’s face snuggled in the crook of his neck. The sunlight is annoyingly creeping its way to their bed and he hastily searches for the remote to pull the blinds down.
Mornings suck.
Jimin moves under him and opens his eyes just a little bit. He mumbles Yoongi’s name before he shuts his eyes and snuzzles his face into Yoongi’s neck again. Jimin’s hair tickles Yoongi and even though he tries not, he bursts into laughter. Jimin opens his eyes in confusion and looks at Yoongi. Jimin realises everyday how Yoongi’s pale skin looks so beautiful under the morning sunlight and he never grows tired of it.
“Time to rise and shine?” Jimin asks him, recalling the events from last night and letting out a laughter. Yoongi looks at him and smiles the most deadly smile in the whole damn world that Jimin almost hears the ground beneath them cracking.
“What are you laughing about?” Yoongi asks him, sitting up.
“Nothing.” Jimin says, smiling back at him. Yoongi gives him a smirk before Jimin feels his waist being attacked by tickles. He bursts into laughter, under Yoongi’s touch.
“Nothing, you say?” Yoongi asks, hovering over Jimin’s body and attaching him with more tickles. Jimin looks so beautiful this way. Fuck. Yoongi wonders what he has done to deserve him.
“Let me go!” Jimin screams as he moves his body crazily, laughing at the touches.
“No” Yoongi cries, attacking him with even more tickles.
“Let me go! I am going to die!” Jimin screams louder and laughs even louder. After some minutes of Jimin half crying, half laughing and half screaming, Yoongi finally lets him go.
“Good morning, Snuggle Bug.” Yoongi says, falling beside Jimin and wrapping his arms around his waist. Jimin giggles and presses a kiss on the tip of Yoongi’s nose.
“Good morning.” He says. Yoongi pecks his lips before getting up from the bed, and Jimin pouts.
“Where are you going?” Jimin asks.
“Need go take a shower before going to the studio.” Yoongi says. Jimin internally smirks.
“Alright.” He says and gets up from the bed to prepare them breakfast. When he is walking to the kitchen, he hear Yoongi opening his closet. He wanted to see Yoongi react to it. Good thing he had his phone on recording, on top of their bed.
“What the fuck?” Yoongi says. Jimin innocently asks him what happened from the kitchen
“My pants. Where the fuck are my pants?” Yoongi says, walking out of their room. Jimin cannot stop himself from bursting into laughter.
“Jimin, what did you do?” Yoongi half yells in an authoritative voice. Jimin shakes his head, trying to make himself stop laughing.
“I wouldn’t tell you.” Jimin says, sticking out his tongue like a child. He was prepared for Yoongi to yell at him, but he was not prepared for Yoongi to jump on him and start kissing him everywhere, walking them towards their room and pushing him on to the bed.
“Tell me what did you do, Park Jimin.” Yoongi says, kissing Jimin’s nose. Jimin shakes his head. Yoongi repeats himself again, kissing Jimin’s forehead. Jimin giggles. This goes on for about five minutes until Jimin grows tired of trying to push Yoongi off and make him stop attacking him with kisses. He lets out a breathless laugh before he accepts his defeat.
“I-I hid them so you wouldn’t go to the studio today.” Jimin says, breathlessly. Yoongi is smiling so hard that he swears his jaw may fall off any second.
“I know I am handsome but I have never seen someone try so hard to get into my pants.” Yoongi comments and winks at Jimin. Jimin slaps Yoongi’s chest playfully before he is pulled into a tight hug and then, a weekend full of cuddles and a movie marathon.
**Author's Note:**
> hope you enjoyed this pointless fic with zero plot
> i saw this prompt on tumblr and i was like i totally need to write on it
>
> fuck exams are coming i should be studying |
ba989520bebc44f3be8f13557a28dd96 | ['f6a34a5dfb4b4e3a878db6b9f6d9461b'] | Every thought that came to her was suddenly gone when a small noise escaped her throat — nothing more than a small _hah_ carried on her breath, but unbearably loud in her ear nonetheless. All too aware of her own sensitivity, it would have embarrassed her if she didn’t see that _certain look_ in Jesse’s eye, the kind of look that was an all-encompassing hunger and need.
He lifted her shirt inch by inch, taking in everything he could (and taking his time, while he was at it). Fleeting kisses passed over her stomach, her navel, and across her ribs, the tip of his tongue tracing over the faint lines created as she arched her back at the sensation. It was when he brushed past the underside of her bra that she sat up and threw her shirt to the floor entirely. _A little too eager, maybe_ , came the internal criticism, but there wasn’t enough care to give it any mind (as was becoming a recurring theme with any coherent thought of the night).
Her fingers ran through his hair while he placed stray kisses between her breasts, across the gooseflesh-ed skin, working up to her collarbone, and then her neck. She was absolutely red from all the attention; this was more than just a close encounter, a what-if story to repeat in her mind later that night or later that week. No, he was _really_ leaving sweet markings across her neck. _Really_ pulling the straps of her bra off her shoulder. _Really_ unclipping it and removing it altogether.
And she was doing the same, fumbling her fingers over his shirt buttons in an effort to remove them. She wasn’t level-headed enough to remove them with ease like she knew she could, but she’d be damned if she cared at all about _finesse_ at a time like this. Something about them was speeding up. Their breathing, gentle moans and touches were all so feverish, Angela wasn’t surprised at all by the hot sensation growing in the deepest pit of her body.
Almost instinctively, she raised her legs around him and pulled him even closer, grinding her hips against his from below, in rhythm with her own breathing. She knew it must be better with her shorts out of the way, but when she reached down to take them off, he caught her wrist in a quick grasp and sat up, taking her with him. He questioned her in a low, gruff voice, but not unwelcoming or unkind.
“You’re sure you want to?”
She thought it was a ridiculous question to ask, and then she remembered that she had never done _this_ before. And Jesse knew she hadn’t. It caused more than a little bit of anxiety as she thought about it face to face with him like this, but not enough to combat her ever-growing longing. Angela knew exactly what she was signing up for when she agreed to join him.
Blonde hair bounced while she nodded. She didn’t quite trust her voice enough to speak, so she kept her words to quick hums and light sighs when they weren’t drawn-out moans from his seemingly endless teasing — the kind that she was proving to be unbelievably weak to, the kind that continued right after her affirmation. As slow as he began with her, Jesse was moving along with increasing intensity now, minute by minute. With a quick motion, he pulled her fully into his lap and kissed along her jaw, teasing her nipples with the pads of his thumbs. Another moan, and then another, carried their way to the open air.
The space in Jesse’s pants was so tight he thought he might go insane. The way she moved against him left nowhere else to go but to push back into her, grinding against the friction that continued to tease him. He liked using his time like this, building up the tension, hearing her make noises only intended for him, feeling her pressing into him with more and more intensity. Once again she reached down for the button of her shorts, wondering if he would stop her again, but that wasn’t the case at all. Instead, he watched the way she managed to slide them off her legs to join the rest of her clothes on the floor. He watched, speechlessly, as she laid back with her knees propped up and caught his eye in her own lustful gaze as if to say, _I’m here, so take me._
The belt was already off of him by then, soon followed by his own pants, if only to grant the satisfaction of freedom he’d been denying himself for… how long, now? He wasn’t even sure what time it was anymore, though that quickly became the last thing on his mind when he gave a light stroke over the surface of her inner thigh and she let out a breathy sigh. So he did it again, on the other side, with the same result.
_My God, she’s like an angel._
Her sighs turned to moans when he replaced his touches with wet kisses. He went all the way up to her hips and back down again, testing how much anticipation he could handle before he finally gave her the pleasure she was waiting so patiently for. (It wasn’t much. Not much at all.)
It started with gentle rubbing over the fabric of her underwear, the only thing that either of them was left wearing. He dared to pull it to the side, bit by bit, listening for the vocal cues she’d been apt to give him in their time together. Just when he could feel her entrance, and how absolutely _hot_ and _wet_ she was, he pulled himself up to kiss her deeply, interrupting a moan from the back of her throat. Her tongue traced its way along his bottom lip, driving out a satisfactory hum. | 615b7cae33af4bd6aa180fd6490f7dcb | ['f6a34a5dfb4b4e3a878db6b9f6d9461b'] | When the mug was as full as she saw fit, she turned away from the counter so she could walk back to her seat, but her road was completely blocked by a tall, dark, _ pleading _ cowboy. His intimidation factor was always knocked down by more than a few notches when he was at his home base, dressed down to a near-casual level and weapons left to their locker, yet she still found herself frozen in place from the sudden scare. She hadn’t even heard him move out of his chair, let alone walk up behind her.
_ He took off those damn spurs. _
“I’m thinkin’ you deserve a night off. How long you been workin’ with him now? Three months?” Angela settled down almost immediately at the calm in his voice, realizing at the same time that he didn’t look like he was going to be moving back anytime soon. But she was fine with the proximity; the two of them certainly weren’t strangers to the close contact. “Take some free time ‘fore you run yourself dry.”
Jealousy or not, he had a good point. If she was going to be taking care of anyone else, she needed to be in a good condition first. But then, the look in his eye told her that he wasn’t quite finished, so she looked up at him with an even gaze, waiting.
“God knows I could use a night off. Reyes had me running so many shifts I thought I’d be losin’ a leg.”
She swatted at his shoulder, scolding him for making such a joke, but it brought a bit of a giggle out of her too. “A night off… for the both of us?”
“I’d sure hope so, darlin’.”
A light blush touched Angela’s cheeks and she averted her gaze to the floor. They had been close for years, and always had that same sense of _ intimacy _ , but they respected each other’s work far too much to ask for anything more than little moments alone like this. Years of tension passed without resolve, and so it also continued to _ build _ . Tonight, however, there was no sense of guilt in asking her to take a night off. Whether that was a result of her spending less time with him, or so much time with Genji, Jesse wasn’t completely sure.
His advances before this night had always ended in light jokes and talk of Angela being married to her job. She never failed to remind him of how early his daily training was, or that he should focus on preparing for his next leave. In the end, it had always been rejection. It never made him stop trying, though, and he certainly never took it personally. She enjoyed being around him — that much was so obvious that it hurt to think of any other alternative. And for as long as she wanted things to be that simple, he would be fine with that much.
But something in her hesitated this time. Jesse could see it in the change of focus in her eye as she scanned the floor, mentally considering what he was suggesting. Before she could voice the words on the tip of her tongue, however, a low voice introduced himself to the dining hall without seeming to care that he was intruding on a _ very important moment here _ —
“Would you quit harassing our doctor? I’m surprised she isn’t running away screaming.”
“Speak for yourself, Reyes.”
In spite of the light tension in the room, Jesse stepped aside and gestured towards Angela’s newfound freedom, giving his head a bit of a bow all the while. It was at this point that he quietly accepted yet another defeat, already plotting out his next attempt in his head, when Angela spoke up and halted his brain process altogether.
“You found _ quite _ the gentleman all those years ago, Gabriel.”
The room was completely silent when she reached the door of the dining hall, her high heeled boots leaving a bit of an echo after they halted. A moment later, she turned on her heel and locked eyes with Jesse. _ Would this have always been so nerve-wracking if I hadn’t rejected him for all those years? _
“...I’ll be ready in an hour.”
The blue of her uniform trailed behind her until it disappeared completely, leaving both Gabriel and Jesse to gape at her change of usual pace. They would have never guessed that her answer was just as surprising to herself as it was to them.
“I hope for your sake, you keep your room clean,” Gabriel said, on the verge of laughing at the purely dumbfounded expression on Jesse’s face.
With a hurried pace, Jesse set off to speed-clean the dorm he stayed in, eyes flickering to the clock like the tick of the second hand.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> I'm writing like three things at once, but this one was just begging for my attention. It's dedicated to the lovely Becca, my best friend (see: best bitch) who plays the Mercy to my McCree. She's the one who gave me the prompt to this one in the first place, but rest assured that there will be more to come. Thank you for reading!
2. II
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> _When I was kissin' on my baby,_
> _And she put her love down soft and sweet,_
> _In the lowland plot, I was free,_
> _Heaven and hell were words to me._
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Part 2, AKA: the smutty continuation. You have been warned. |
63c05c34b6764077967dfea5a24e4f58 | ['f6b4e4d1c73d497b9871e0a8afc4baaa'] | Adrien's heart leapt in his chest as the other neared and he realized he didn't have the strength to get up and fight... he also had no idea where Plagg was and after a second he realized... he couldn't feel the weight of his ring on his finger... his miraculous was gone, "give it back..." he let out, eyes narrowing as he tried to pull himself up into a sitting position but found he didn't have the strength to do that either, "what did... you do to me?"
Hawk Moth just laughed and smirked darkly, "just a little sedative... it'll keep you nice and calm for now. Wouldn't want you trying to escape now would we? I don't need you warning Ladybug about my new found 'power'," he chuckled, holding up Adrien's ring and grinning at the angry look it got him, "Don't worry... I'll give it back... once I'm sure you'll be the perfect tame and obedient little kitten."
"Give it back!" the blond shouted but it only made his head spin more as he flopped back onto the bed, panting as his head spun. He had no strength... he couldn't fight... he couldn't move... he'd failed... he'd let Hawk Moth get his ring... He'd let Hawk Moth get him. He felt pathetic. He'd failed Paris... he'd failed his Lady... His Ladybug.
"I will. Just not now," Hawk Moth said and Adrien just glared at him as the man stepped closer to him, "you have a lot to learn before you get that ring back… First thing you need to learn… is to NEVER get on my bad side…" he hissed out, grabbing the boy by the sides of his jaw in a bruising grip, "I was willing to give you so much in return for a simple little task… all I wanted were the Ladybug earrings and your Cat Noir ring and then you would have had your precious girl and I'd have left Paris alone… but no… you insisted on fighting… insisted on going against my wishes… insisted on making things difficult… well, now things will be difficult… for you… not for me."
Adrien winced as the other grabbed him, feeling the others fingers and nails digging into his flesh as he glared back at the older male with eyes like daggers, filled with anger and hatred. Hawk Moth was evil… he knew there would always be a catch. That is if he even kept his promises in the first place. He would never make a deal with this 'devil'.
"Tsh!" Hawk Moth growled, shoving the boy away harshly and turning away from him, walking a few steps from the other, "why do you insist on always being so disobedient? So troublesome? Why can't you just do as you're told? Why can't you just listen when you're spoken to?!" Hawk Moth snapped, finally turning back to the boy, "You should have taken my offer, Adrien… This would have been so much easier."
The green eyed teen looked to the other with hazy eyes, the villain's words echoing in his mind. He sounded less like an angry criminal and more like a parent berating his child. It sent chills through Adrien's body but he didn't reply and he didn't dwell on it… he didn't want to. Instead, he shook his head a bit as he let out, "Sorry… am I 'bugging' you, Hawk Moth? Sorry to purrrevent you from getting what you want but… I was chosen for a reason. I'm no lap cat… I won't lay down and die and I won't obey a creep like you. My loyalties will always lay with Ladybug and Paris!"
Hawk Moth scowled at the boy as he shook his head, "Not for long…" he hissed as he moved towards a table that Adrien hadn't been paying attention to. There were all sorts of devices and strange objects on it that he didn't necessarily recognize. His stomach churned, however, as he shook his head as the other grabbed a pair of handcuffs.
The blond groaned as he tried to shift to his side and off of the bed but he didn't get far before Hawk Moth grabbed his leg and yanked him back to where he could reach one wrist. The man scowled as he cuffed the one wrist and dragged the struggling boy closer to cuff the other as well as Adrien snapped profanities at him and tried to hit and bite him. He ignored it and smirked once he had the boy cuffed, tossing him back onto the bed harshly.
"What's wrong, kitten? Are you a fraidy-cat?" Hawk Moth asked, throwing the puns back in the boy's face as he laughed, smirking as he moved over to where a long chain with a hook was hanging from the ceiling. He grabbed the chain by the hook and pulled it over to the bed, smirking at the fear in the boy's eyes as he shifted himself up till he was resting with his back against the headboard.
This just helped Hawk Moth in the end, however, as he pulled something out of his pocket. It was a controller. He pressed a button on it to make the hook come down so he could get a better grip on it. Once it was at Adrien's eye level, he grabbed the boy by the wrists and pulled them up, slipping the chain of the cuffs onto the hook.
"There we go…" the masked man said He pressed another button on the controller again causing the chain to start to lift, pulling the blond up by the wrists and forcing him to kneel up on the bed as he struggled, trying to get free. The boy was panting by this point, panicking as various scenarios ran through his head. | 2c5b5710cae344698691c2a652b1c49a | ['f6b4e4d1c73d497b9871e0a8afc4baaa'] | "And what are you planning to do with our Miraculous?" Adrien asked, scowling, "I don't trust you... and I am NOT giving you that kind of power, you creep... besides, I would never force Ladybug to be with me if that wasn't what she wanted. She means way more to me than that. I want her to love me… not serve me. I won't help you," he said, shaking his head, "never... ever... going... to happen... I would never betray M'Lady," he let out as he turned to try and walk away.
He didn't get far, however, as a hand shot out and grabbed him by the wrist, yanking him back against his chest, gripping the boy's wrist tightly and painfully. Plagg let out a yelp as he was jarred from the blond's shoulder, falling to the ground in a heap as he groaned out, still too exhausted to do much more than mumble the boy's name. The little Kwami's heart hammered in his chest, however, as he prayed that his chosen would be alright.
"I'll ask you one last time, boy... the earrings... and the ring... for the safety of everyone you love, including Ladybug..." Hawk Moth uttered out coldly. Of course, he never mentioned Adrien's safety. No... Hawk Moth wasn't that nice... and he liked the irony of making the boy his own personal tool to use against Paris… as well as for his own personal entertainment.
He knew well enough that if the boy agreed and did betray his precious Ladybug... he'd be broken. She would hate him and he would never forgive himself. It would be all he would need to make the boy his, one way or another. He would keep his word and give Ladybug to him... but by the time he did that, the boy would either be an Akuma, or he'd be too broken to even want to face her anyway.
"I... won't... do it..." Adrien hissed out to the other and Hawk Moth just chuckled and shook his head, "Hnn... you're brave... but you're also very... very... foolish," Hawk Moth uttered as he brought his free hand up, revealing a syringe. The teen tensed and struggled, gasping out as the needle pierced his neck causing Adrien to let out a pained gasp. His struggles ceased nearly immediately as he groaned, eyes slipping shut as he began to feel the effects of the drug almost immediately.
"Stupid boy... You should have just done what I asked... I hate disobedience... I've grown impatient, Adrien... I was willing to give you everything you wanted... you could have had your precious Ladybug at your beck and call," Hawk Moth said, the boy collapsing against Hawk Moth as the older male looked over to Plagg, hefting the boy over his shoulder before picking up the exhausted Kwami. He smirked and laughed as he walked off with his new toy.
“Tomorrow should prove to be very, very interesting indeed.”
2. Prelude To Pain
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Adrien wakes up in a strange place, on a strange bed, groggy and disoriented. When Hawk Moth slinks out of the shadows, the young hero knows that nothing good is going to come of this. Can Ladybug find her partner in time to save him from whatever fate Hawk Moth has planned? Does she even realize that he's gone missing?
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> I do not own, nor am I making money off of, The Miraculous Adventures of Ladybug and Cat Noir.
>
> NOTE: I have this story posted on Fanfiction and adult-fanfiction as well as here. If you want a lighter, less graphic version of the story without violence and sexual situations you can read it on Fanfiction. Right now, though, they're identicle still. Yes, I'm mean... flames go to roasting Hawk Moth. ~_^
A soft groan escaped pink tinged lips, blond hair splayed out on a plain white pillow. Adrien’s mind was reeling, foggy. He felt groggy and weak. He tried to bring his hand up to rub his eyes but he found he couldn't move it. He couldn't lift it... he didn't have the strength. He felt so weak... so sluggish.
"W... ha... ah..." came the weak, barely audible sound from the male as he tried desperately to open his rather heavy eyelids. He whimpered after a moment and just went limp again. He tried to focus, tried to think... what was the last thing he remembered?
The attack... there had been an akuma attack... they'd stopped the akuma... and then. He'd asked Ladybug to spend time with him. She didn't want to... He felt a pang of pain at that memory as he clenched his eyes tighter. Why would she want to spend time with him? Everyone knew, even the two of them... Ladybug was the hero... he was just a comedic sidekick.
He shook his head a bit to try and clear it and focus on the here and now. It didn't help much, however, and just caused his head to swim as he whimpered. He clenched his eyes shut tightly as everything spun a bit as if his brain was spinning around in circles inside his skull. That had been a bad idea. He felt a little nauseous now but he gulped it back and worked on taking deep, calming breaths until his stomach settled down again.
"Good to see you're awake, boy..." came a familiar voice as Hawk Moth slipped out of the shadows, a smirk on his face, "You should have just listened... I do so hate disobedience..." he uttered, crossing his arms over his chest, his cane in one hand as butterflies flitted about his form, "Now what shall we do with you, hmm?" |
dc7b3b070de7407e9f2ea1e69c243891 | ['f6d7770dd57e4d84a647275d044cb9b8'] |
Something a Little Less Eternal
**Author's Note:**
> Because EVERYONE in the Dishonored chat wanted food porn. So here.
The idea of food and eating fascinated the Outsider. He had no need of sustenance, and when one had a tendency to to taste what something once was and all it would someday be, it made it difficult to narrow it down to the immediate and now.It was fortunate for him that Corvo was an indulgent sort (it hadn’t even taken much explanation or asking to get him to agree), since he didn’t think anyone else he’d shown himself to or marked would be so willing to help.
It was a shame that the blindfold was so necessary, since the mirth in Corvo’s eyes was something the Outsider quietly liked seeing. But tied on it was in the end, Corvo settled comfortably in the pillows while the Outsider poked about the tray for something appropriate to begin with.
His roving fingers found a soft red berry and plucked it delicately from it’s place on the tray, lifting it to Corvo’s mouth, watching Corvo’s lips part to accept the bite of fruit, white teeth sinking slowly through the soft flesh of it, juice running over his lower lip. The Outsider wanted to lick it away, but refrained.Corvo chewed thoughtfully, “Mm, strawberry. Sweet, with a tang just shy of sharp. Tastes of summer in Serkonos and sunlight, but ever the slightest bit earthy.”
The next morsel was a nut of some sort, or so he’d been told, cracked out of it’s shell for him. Corvo took the piece whole this time. “Walnut. Sort of a earthy buttery flavor, if that makes sense. Coats the tongue and lingers longer than the strawberry.”
Next was some sort of bright orange fruit.
“Mmm, that’s an orange.” Corvo smiled as it was fed to him, “I haven’t had one of these in years.”
The Outsider frowned, “I’m well aware of what color it is, Corvo.”
Corvo laughed, jostling him slightly, “No, no, it’s also called an orange. The color and the fruit have the same name.” he lifted his hips, making the Outsider sway some more, “Now stop pouting and let me describe it to you.”
“I am not pouting.” he insisted.
Corvo only smiled. “The orange is bright and sweet, and reminds me of a tropical place I visited a long time ago. It’s got a tang that borders on crispness, without being tart.”
“You mortals do so enjoy sweet things.”
“It’s a weakness. What else have you got on that tray of yours?”
The Outsider paused, “I think they called this cheese…”
“Well, cut me off a piece then and give it here.”
The cheese was firm and slightly salty, and tasted slightly aged. The Outsider didn’t know to cut the rind off, but it wasn’t terribly bad. He voiced as much and the Outsider murmured something that sounded suspiciously like “Complicated.” and Corvo became aware of being offered something else.
The Outsider had poked about, frowning at some of the foods, before deciding on a slice of some strange vegetable, running the slice of it over Corvo’s lower lip until he opened his mouth to take it. He placed the slice over Corvo’s tongue, and perhaps his fingers lingered a moment longer than they had before over the soft plumpness of Corvo’s lip.
“Mmm, that’s refreshing.” Corvo chewed and swallowed, “And also a cucumber. It’s like cold spring-water with a sweet taste to it that sort of floats over it.”
The next one made Corvo grimace a little, “Oh, oof, that’s really, really salty after the cucumber. Olive, by the way. If there were something on the land to represent the sea, it would be these. Vinegar and salt tang that overpowers the flavor of everything around it.”
“What is wrong with tasting of the sea?” If the Outsider had a stomach, it might have dropped a little.
“Nothing, nothing at all, I just wasn’t prepared for how salty that was. Give me another slice of that cucumber, will you?”
Next was a cured, fried meat of some sort that Corvo all but moaned over as he chewed it. “It tastes of sweet smoke and wood fire, without ashes, with a slight hint of salt and a texture that leaves a coating like velvet over your tongue when you’re done.”
“So what is it?”
“I’ll tell you if you give me another bite of it.”
“Tell me first.”
He teased Corvo with another piece, letting Corvo nearly get it, fascinated by the way Corvo’s tongue poked out of his mouth as he went for the morsel.
“Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”
“Now you’re playing unfair.” Corvo laughed, “It’s bacon, now give it to me.”
The Outsider relented, allowing Corvo to take the bacon from his fingers, feeling more than a little surprised and flustered when Corvo gently licked the grease from them. He was going to pretend that he was still neutral about how Corvo’s hands had found their way to his waist as well.
Something Corvo called grapes were next, Corvo chewing on the purple spheres happily, “They’re almost tart at first, but they slowly turn sweet once you start chewing on them and get the juice out of them.”
The Outsider had only one thing left on the tray and didn’t want the game to end. But he still plucked a leaf from the stem of the plant he was holding in his hands and offered it. Corvo smiled, “I can smell it from here. It’s mint.” he opened his mouth and chewed the leaf.”It’s sort of an odd one. The flavor goes right to your nose, and it’s refreshing and earthy and grassy all at the same time.”
The Outsider was quiet for a moment, contemplating all that he had been told. Was this how all of the mortals tasted their food? Corvo tilted his head after a moment’s silence “Do you have any thing else, or was that all?”
The Outsider bent down, hesitated a moment, then kissed Corvo. Corvo seemed startled, but to his credit, was only startled a moment before returning the kiss ardently, running his tongue over the Outsider’s lower lip the way the Outsider had been wishing to do to him all the while.
When the Outsider pulled away, Corvo lifted the blindfold away from his eyes and grinned, “Well now, if you wanted me to do that, you didn’t have to go through the whole pretense of the food.”
“That wasn’t entirely in my plan.” Corvo sat up, rolling so he had the Outsider pinned under him and kissed him again, “Well, shall I describe to you the way you taste? How there’s salt and sea of course, but so much more than that? How I can taste the world and time on your lips, but how it’s not decay, rather more like the way a book ages?”
The Outsider pushed at him, “Don’t even start.”
Corvo laughed, “You started it.” he kissed him again, “But allow me to finish it.” | 7b431f2103a149338f782a8e89df6fb9 | ['f6d7770dd57e4d84a647275d044cb9b8'] |
OPA!
**Author's Note:**
> For the Dishonored chat. You guys are crazy and I love you all.
The first time they tried it, it was all for fun, something they'd heard about on one of their trips through the new town. It seemed that the Serkonans enjoyed thoroughly a special type of wrestling, though they were unable to get many details about the rules, only that there was a special type of pants involved, and oil. That part had confused them, since the only oil they were familiar with was whale, and the idea of covering oneself in the volatile substance was a bad one at best.
So they skipped the oil, playing in the open fields of the vineyards, stripped down to their breeks, tossing each other around in the grass, trying to see whom could out-maneuver whom fastest, in the fewest moves, or without use of their void powers. It was a fun way to pass a stifling afternoon, all of the whalers sprawled in the grass after, covered in dirt, grass, and sweat, but worn out and happy. Billie was a force to be reckoned with, and held the highest win tally.
The second time they played, the match between Jenkins and Hobson was interrupted by the appearance of Daud. The cheering and goading had slowly died off, Jenkin and Hobson only noticing when someone tossed a bit of water on them. Daud hadn't said anything at first, only raised an eyebrow and waited for someone to explain. It ended up being Giorgos explaining about their trip into town and what they'd heard about the sport. Daud's eyebrow had lifted higher and he'd said only one thing on the subject.
“You're doing it all wrong, the lot of you.”
That had been his first mistake. He'd turned on his heel to go back inside, and was mobbed by the whalers all wanting to know what he knew about it. He'd refused, leaving them to try and weasel it out of him later.
They tried asking at dinner, at breakfast the next day, Jenkins had popped in and out of his office, dodging thrown knives and books, and still Daud refused to talk about it. It was only after a week of pestering and nagging that he cracked enough to shout at them, “I'm Serkonan, you idiots, of course I know all about the national sport of my home country! No, I will not demonstrate, not unless you find me a single man I'd even consider worth my time and that much oil! Now leave me alone!”
That had been Daud's second mistake. He gave them a goal.
Not even being tossed out of a window was enough to deter Jenkins.
-*-*-
“But who would we get to wrestle him?”
“Certainly not Martin. But, ha, the sight he'd make!”
“Got something to admit, there Aeolos?”
“WHA- NO.”
“Oooh, you want to see Martin in his skivvies?”
“SHUT. UP. JENKINS. That's not even the point of this conversation! We need to find someone Daud'll wrestle!”
“Well... What about Attano?”
More than a few men spit out or choked on their drinks.
“Attano?! Are you nuts, Jenkins? He'd have us gutted before we'd even get close enough to chat!”
“Think about it! He's the only person that Daud's ever considered worthy of a fight, and Attano's probably pretty tired of the court life. And, more importantly, he's SERKONAN, he'd know how to do it and probably even give Daud a run for his money!”
“I hate admitting when you have a point, Jenkins.”
"Oh, say that again, I want to remember it forever."
The next trick was getting leave. Daud had given the three, Jenkins, Aeolos, and Rickard(Only convinced to go to be extra muscle), who were going a highly suspicious glare. Jenkins quietly stepped on Aeolos's foot when he began stammering and spoken up.
“Come on, boss, we're all supposed to be in retirement here, we could just go on our own without sayin' nothing, but we respect you and want to give you a heads up.”
Daud glared, but didn't stop them, his own way of conceding a point. He shooed them out of his face and they were more than happy to go; Jenkins was practically skipping out the door. Aeolos looked nervous, “Attano's not really going to try and gut us, is he?”
Rickard shrugged. “He might.”
Aeolos wilted.
~*~*~
The boat ride was miserable. Whalers they might have been in persona, but it didn't mean that they spent the short trip from Serkonos to Gristol anything but utterly miserable. Rickard refused to go forward with the plan until he could walk straight again. Jenkins hadn't even gotten one word out before he was cut off by Rickard's irritated growl.
“I'm not getting anywhere near Attano at anything less than full capacity. I don't really like the idea of pukin' on his boots or puking at all, so sit your hoppity ass down.”
Jenkins pouted the entire time.
Getting to Corvo proved easier than ever. The guards, though obviously more perceptive nowadays than before, were still no match for their Void-powers, and transversing to his balcony was no difficult feat. Jenkins peeped through the double glass doors and indicated that Corvo was inside, and alone. Rickard waved him in and Jenkins crept in.
Alright, thinking that they had caught Corvo unawares was a mistake, for in the next instant, Jenkins was squirming in a chokehold held by a near snarling Lord Protector.
“Just who the hell do you think you are?”
Aeolos jumped to the rescue, “Wait wait wait, mister Attano, Lord Protector, sir, don't choke him please, we're not here to hurt anybody!”
Blinking down the wrong end of a gun barrel was a situation Aeolos never wanted to be in again. How had Attano even drawn the gun that fast? Furthermore, where had it come from??
“If you're not here for anything other than sinister business, why did you come through my window?”
“We're not good with front doors.” Rickard supplied easily, watching the eyes of the Lord Protector narrow.
“Alright. What do you want?” The gun moved away slowly and with a good deal of suspicion.
“Well, first, if you could stop strangling Jenkins, that would be a great start.” |
6e1ae12e7d9a4c27a718b00419b598b0 | ['f7010aeed7ff439fa4363031f2ff5627'] | Today, his skin bore none other than the tiny metal piercings below his lips that Bokuto had just complained about.
In that moment, the entire gym was silent to one Bokuto Koutarou.
In that moment, he decided, without a single doubt in his mind, that they were beautiful.
It was like something clicked in his brain, or perhaps, instead, something _failed_ to fire entirely. The world was happening in slow motion around him. He couldn't keep his eyes off of those two tiny metal studs, the way Akaashi's face moved as he greeted them, the way they accented his perfect eyes being perfect as he watched them, nearly half-lidded, with this perfect relaxed face and perfect--suddenly he'd forgotten every adjective in the world to describe him, other than perfect.
Fuck.
"Bokuto? Dude? Earth to owl-brains?"
"Kuroo...Akaashi is so perfect."
The Nekoma captain waved his hand in front of Bokuto's face. "Dude. I've been calling your name for like thirty seconds, you okay? You've said Akaashi is perfect..I don't know how many times before."
"Kuroo, I...I gotta take back everything I just said. I think my heart just stopped. You gotta get an ambulance, right now, I'm definitely going into cardiac arrest." He doubled over dramatically, clutching the fabric of his tee shirt. Part of it was for the effect, but his knuckles were white. He really did need a moment to process how wonderful Akaashi looked in that instance.
He chuckled. "Cardiac arrest? If your heart is stopping, then you can't go over there and, oh, I don't know," he waved a hand dismissively, tossing the volleyball back and forth between his hands. "Tell your setter how hot he looks?"
Bokuto stammered aimlessly for a few seconds, before nodding to the other captain, running his fingers through his hair, making sure that it stood up _just right_ for when he strolled over to the setter.
"Nice face we're having. I mean nice day for your face. Your metal is nice--I mean, I like your face." Perfectly eloquent. Ten points for the owlmaster, he'd be swooning soon enough. He'd have to pick Akaashi up off of the floor.
"Thank you, Bokuto-san," came the reply, sounding as even and unimpressed as ever. Bokuto wondered if he should clutch his heart and stumble back in offense, but that might annoy him further.
"So uh...nobody else is here besides Kuroo, I could kiss them," he offered. "I mean, the--" he gestured to his lips.
Akaashi served the ball up against the wall, and it landed a short distance away, bouncing and rolling to a halt. "If you wanted to kiss me, you could have just said something."
'Yeah, but I. Wait, what?" Bokuto squawked.
The setter raised an eyebrow. Bokuto had to stop himself from drooling. The way his lips were just barely parted when he served, the shape they made that impeccably accented his face, and even the way sweat beaded on his brow and dripped down his cheeks was enough to make the captain want to pounce on him.
"I wouldn't mind you kissing me. Or my snakebites, if that's what you've been staring at. Though I get the impression you've been staring at all of me for some time now, Bokuto-san." Akaashi answered, picking up the volleyball from where it had fallen, repeating his serve.
Well, he wasn't wrong.
"So, could I take you out tonight and maybe kiss all of you?" The captain asked, rocking back and forth on his heels as he poked his fingers together nervously. "Ma..y..be...?"
"I'm not busy. I was actually going to go back tonight and get my eyebrow pierced, if you'd like to come."
His grin widened, and he reached out a hand to the setter, but instead of taking his hand, he grinned and pulled him in for a huge, tight hug. "Thank you! Aw man, you're not going to regret it! We can watch movies and doodle and plan out games and--wait, you're going back? Er, okay. Do you think maybe...I could get one too?"
Akaashi glanced from Bokuto, over to Kuroo several meters away, who was violently and excitedly giving a thumbs-up in their direction. His encouragement was far from subtle, but sometimes Bokuto needed a lot more than subtle, which he could appreciate. "If that's what you want."
"As long as I get to go with you!"
**Author's Note:**
> This was based on a twitter conversation where piercing headcanons were discussed, and I really liked the idea of Bokuto thinking they were really dumb and gross until he sees them on Akaashi, because I always felt like snakebites were the sort of piercing that really only looks good if you have the face for them? (But when people do pull them off, hot damn.) | dc780ae23c1d4983a96b7b94ad8dc79b | ['f7010aeed7ff439fa4363031f2ff5627'] | "This is boring." Haru was sitting on a stool in Makoto's kitchen, kicking his feet absently. Spread out on the table was a stack of books Makoto had borrowed from the library, with titles like "Sharks of the World," "Sharks: Creatures of the Deep," "Shark Facts," and "Sharks!". Haru liked that one. He picked it out because it had an exclaimation point in the title. Exclaimation points were important.
"Nuh-uh, this is scientific." Makoto corrected, flipping a page in the big book that had NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC OCEANS printed across the cover in big white letters. He didn't know half of the words in it, but he had already decided that he was definitely learnng a lot. His siblings wouldn't be back from their after-school hike for awhile, so they knew they weren't in the way by usurping the entire table for the time being.
"Scientific, or whatever. Let's just go swimming and find the shark again." Haru commented, pushing one of the volumes aside. Did Makoto even know half of the words in that book? He was dismissing Haru, and they both knew it, but he was right. Haru was looking for excuses to go swimming. When wasn't he? The thing here was, that he wasn't sure how to explain Rin to Makoto without saying "I met a boy who is a fish." Though his explanation had basically boiled down to that. He had never been particularly verbose.
"Wow, did you know, that sharks have like, an endless supply of teeth? Yeah, if they bite into something and lose one, another one sorta pulls forward and takes its place. Some sharks can have like, two...um. four zeroes...twenty thousand teeth before they die!" Makoto was totally engrossed in the book, but Haru just found himself sighing, flipping another page idly. On that page was a photo of a Tiger Shark. Yeah, it looked sort of like Rin. Sort of. It had a lot less...person to it, but maybe Rin was related to it? Or something like that. Wait. That could be fish-racist. He shouldn't assume that all fish that look similar are related. Yeah. Fish-racist. Fishist? That's a stupid word.
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as though they were extra droplets of water that made his hair stick to his face. Anyway, the page called the shark in question a Tiger Shark. Named for the stripes that mostly appear on juveniles, they are only second to great whites in terms of human-related shark attacks. In fact, they will eat almost anything.
He smiled to himself, (almost morbidly) thinking of how Rin had gobbled up his mother's ex-pet. He still had to come up with a good excuse for that one. He was bad at excuses. They always came out along the lines of 'Oh, I was shaving the eel,' or 'I had to go eat some shampoo.' Yeah, he had to work on that.
The book continued on about how tiger sharks have been found with all sorts of things in their stomach, from alarm clocks and seat cushions to a whole severed human arm (which had been cut off of the person before the shark ate it, somehow. Haru found this mental image more comedic than horrifying). Though they mostly ate fish and stingrays. He made a mental note to ask Rin later what he liked to eat. Maybe he'd bring him something. If it wasn't something ridiculous, like stingray or alarm clock.
Still, all of that information, and it didn't say anything about them being people, or talking, or getting caught in tidepools. The goldfish-eating was kind of explained, at least. He let out an audible sigh. "Can't we just go looking for him?"
"I'd rather look at pictures of sharks in books. Your shark sounds okay, but-"
Haru popped his head over the top of Makoto's book, propping himself up on the table by his hands. "But what?"
"But! He's in the ocean!"
"So?"
There was silence for a few moments. Of course. Makoto was afraid of the ocean. Haru was always so picky about his words, but at the same time, he had a habit of being dreadfully blunt. One would think that quiet children were more tactful, but for Haruka, it was more along the lines of the fact that perhaps he had just never practiced with human interaction well enough to pick up on the subtleties, or lackthereof, that affected the emotions of others. Actually, it was probably none of these things. He was just tactless. Finally, he opened his mouth again. "We'll go find him."
Makoto retorted by slamming his hands down on the table hard enough to knock the stack of books over. "I'm never going in the ocean! You can't make me!" he yelled. The outburst hadn't been totally unwarranted, but it did feel a little uncharacteristic. After all, Makoto was usually the calm one, always smiles and reassurance that they could do whatever they wanted, go wherever they wanted, grow up to be whatever they wanted to be. Or something else inspriational that may as well have been out of a cheap American fortune cookie. Makoto was a master of another kind of zen, but he was also still a kid. A kid whose nerve had just been struck, and ultimate fear disregarded by someone he cared about.
Haru slowly lowered himself, realizing what he had just done. He hadn't meant to upset Makoto, but he just did. Good job there dropping the ball on one of the only people in the world that he had filed into his "important" category. Way to be mean about it, too.
Makoto's feelings were _way_ more important than being fishist.
**Author's Note:**
> While I do have a plan for an overall progression of this story, it's more of a collection of drabbles than a cohesive fic. That aside, I do plan to update regularly.
>
> Thank you for reading! |
867e7b658aa5480dbc99a756043cbc4e | ['f714aaa2ba9b49818dafd6bee7918a84'] | Gladio was awake almost instantly, hands pulling Prompto flush against him. "I've got you, Prompto..." He said lowly into his ear, and Prompto whined. He rolled Prompto onto his back, leaning over him, and the sight of the omega crying, neck bared and legs spread, made him moan himself.
"I've got you, I've got you," he kept muttering, kissing Prompto lightly in an attempt to calm the desperate omega beneath him. He pressed his face in the crook of Prompto's neck, rubbing and scenting him. Prompto laid almost motionless beneath him, whimpering.
Gladio slid his hand down Prompto's fevered body, no time to admire how his muscles jumped and reacted to his touch. _Afterwards,_ he thought. Slick coated his fingers as they danced along Prompto's ass, dipping between and brushing against his entrance. He pushed two in, marveling at the way Prompto arched off the bed just a bit and sighed a quiet moan.
" _Gladio, more, please._ " Prompto's eyes were shut and he fisted the sheets beneath him, grinding down on Gladio's fingers.
He added a third, working them slowly and deliberately in the wet omega. Once Prompto started whining again he eased them out, using the slick to coat his own cock. Gladio leaned up and kissed Prompto lightly. "Do you want me to knot you?"
Prompto opened his eyes and squinted at Gladio. "Dude.. that's sort of the entire reason you're here, right?"
Gladio shrugged. "Just.. making sure." He pressed the head of his cock against Prompto and his shoulders shook as he pushed in. Prompto's moan cut straight through him.
Gladio's arms were on either side of Prompto effectively creating a barrier between this and anything else. The man was huge, and Prompto felt safe. Gladio was here. He would take care of him. Prompto hooked one leg around Gladio's waist, pulling him closer. He needed him closer, _deeper_. In the back of his mind he wondered, _could it be like this every time_? Gladio's hips were loud against him and he was only vaguely aware of how the alpha lifted him until his own hips were off the mattress. Each thrust now making him cry out.
Gladio nipped Prompto's neck. He had told the omega he wouldn't bond with him, but his neck was right there and every time he nipped the skin Prompto moaned, dropping his head so more of his neck was available. Gladio growled in his throat. "Wanna mark you," he admitted. "Wanna claim you, Promp..."
Prompto slid a hand into Gladio's hair and pulled it slightly. He pulled him away from his neck and Gladio stared down at him, his lips wet from sucking on Prompto. "Be my alpha," he breathed, taking the risk.
Gladio caught his mouth in a kiss, grinding down into him hard. "I'm gonna flip you, okay?"
Prompto nodded quickly, taking a breath as Gladio pulled out. He weakly propped himself up on his elbows as strong hands helped turn him over onto his stomach. He felt Gladio spread him apart again, liftng his hips and sliding in with ease. He groaned as Gladio sank full hilt, knot already starting to form. Prompto's mouth parted, breathing hard with his face against the mattress while his hand travelled to his dripping cock.
"It'll hurt," Gladio breathed in his ear. He put his hand underneath the omega to coax him along.
Prompto gasped an acknowledgement, pushing back onto his alpha.
Gladio sped up his rhythm, matching it with his hand. Prompto's voice hitched, and Gladio groaned at how the omega was positioned before him.
Prompto's hips shook, and he rolled his hips against Gladio's fist several erratic times before coming with a cry.
Gladio's thrusts became shallower as his knot swelled, and he was quickly following after Prompto's orgasm. Quickly he pulled him up flush against his chest and bit down in the space between his shoulder and neck.
Prompto jerked, yelping, and squirmed, but he was held fast arms and circumstance. Slowly, Gladio eased them both down onto the bed. Prompto was panting hard, his throat drier than before and now the ache in his stomach was replaced by an ache in his hips and neck. A fuzzy happy feeling flooded him. Gladio had marked him.
His breath caught in his throat. But would he have done this if they were still in Insomnia? Would he have wanted Prompto? Prompto knew the answer was complicated. If they were still in Insomnia he wouldn't have lost his suppressants. Gladio wouldn't have gotten the chance- not unless one of them had brought it up. _Necessity is the father of invention_ , Ignis would say.
Gladio squeezed his arm. "You're thinking too much."
"Sorry... about all this..." Prompto whispered now that the fog in his head was momentarily gone. "I know it's a hassle."
Gladio snorted against his neck. "No one thinks you're a hassle, Prompto... in fact, everyone's pretty fond of you." He idly rubbed the spot he had squeezed. "Don't worry about all this. You've given us an excuse to lay around for a week."
Prompto could hear the grin in his voice.
"And," he continued, "I'm sure Noct and Iggy are happy to have some extended privacy. You've probably really riled up our prince."
Prompto blushed. "Gladdy..." He mumbled, burying his face in the sheets.
Gladio chuckled, his chest vibrating against Prompto's back. "Go back to sleep, Promp. You're gonna need another bath in the morning.. and we need to get new sheets." He kissed the back of Prompto's neck, and Prompto was content.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> I apologize for this taking almost a month to be published. It seemed like everything was against me this month. My laptop barely works, the battery took a shit and it only operates while plugged in and even then it will randomly shut down. I have lost my progress on this chapter three times. I've had some personal drama that also took up most of my attention.
> The good news is this: I might be posting some possible bonus material for this fic but I will be publishing them separately since they involve some aspects of ABO that some people don't like. The bonus stuff also makes this an OT4 situation. I have several projects going though and only time will tell what happens. | 6f89596c7da24272acf3a21ff0454c80 | ['f714aaa2ba9b49818dafd6bee7918a84'] | In turn, Noctis slid one hand to the back of Prompto's neck, holding him close, the other carding through his hair. He took a breath.
Prompto took the reprieve to shake his head, tears starting to well up in his eyes. "You're getting married."
Noctis leaned into him again, their faces brushing against each other. He closed his eyes again, brushing his lips against Prompto's cheek. "An obligation..."
"Noct..." Prompto bit down on his bottom lip, closing his eyes as well before tears could fall. He wrapped his arms around Noctis' waist and held him. "We.. we can't.."
Noctis turned his face, gently kissing him again, and despite Prompto's words he kissed him back. Noctis pressed his thumb under Prompto's chin, making him tilt his head back, and his lips ghosted over his neck, kissing here and there.
At some point during the night, any hesitations were thrown to the side along with clothing, and in the darkness of the motel room years of hands brushing together as they walked and stolen glances from across rooms came to fruition in the form of breathless kisses and hands that caressed and explored. Prompto kneeled between his future king's legs and took them both in his hand while Noctis kissed dark marks into the pale skin moving against him.
_Just one more song._
_Just for tonight._
_This won't hurt either of us._
Prompto was awake long after Noctis had fallen asleep, staring at the ceiling above him with a frown on his face. He took a breath to calm himself, but it caught in his throat and he quickly pressed his palms to his eyes. He rolled, throwing his legs off the bed and sat up, his hands falling to his sides.
Noctis made a sound in his sleep, and Prompto stilled. The sleeping prince reached out and put his hand on Prompto's wrist. "Go back to sleep, Promp..."
"Yeah... I will." Prompto said softly, hoping his voice didn't give away the tight feeling in his chest. He swallowed, pushing himself up off the bed and retrieving his clothes from where they had been cast aside sometime before.
He didn't sleep.
No one asked about Prompto's neck. If anything was said, it definitely wasn't to him or Noctis, and if anyone noticed the way Prompto tensed when the marriage or Luna was mentioned, no one mentioned it. He was grateful for it. It took several hours on the road again for him to begin talking and gesturing wildly, snapping photographs of the scenary, and laughing with Noctis once more, and by the time they had arrived at Galdin Quay, he was back to his normal self.
The ferries weren't running.
Prompto wanted to take Noctis' hand. He wanted to look at him and say, _the ferries aren't running, but we can_.
But Noctis was staring at the water and not at him. He couldn't afford to. |
c5182addf8594124adddec0557fa9a74 | ['f72259d77edc4e22b916b1b7463f9666'] | Working at the bookstore wasn’t ideal. The owner, Mr. Barlow was never around, leaving Dan and his lazy coworker Felix to pick up after the customers. No, rewind. Leaving Dan to clean up after the customers while Felix lounged behind the register with his daily selection of book. Often times it was one off the taller shelves, which meant Dan had to get it for him. Aside from Felix, Dan absolutely hated days like this. Rainy, but not rainy enough that people would stay inside. Why? Because there was almost always a mother who thought it would be a good idea to bring her three screaming children - all under the age of eight - into the shoppe.
But aside from that, the job wasn’t the worst thing in the world. When Mr. Barlow _was_ around, he was a nice person and often gave Felix a hard time about his lack of commitment to the job. Dan was surprised he hadn’t been sacked yet.
No, Dan liked his job. He liked working in the shoppe because it always smelled of old books, which was one of Dan’s favourite smells anyway. Most of the time it was fairly dead, because people often opted for going to newer stores with better lighting and newer books. Dan practically scoffed at the thought of going to one. He never really liked new bookstores. They were loud, and too bright and their book selections were terrible. It was always something along the lines of 50 Shades Of Grey, Twilight and a fuck ton of historical romance novels by some authour named Julia Quinn. Dan tried to read one called Romancing Mister Bridgerton and nearly sicked all over the pages due to its awful writing.
*******
“Daniel, my boy!” called Mr. Barlow as he made his way over to Dan, fast as his little old legs could take him.
“Hi, Mr. B.!” Dan replied with a small wave and a smile. His elbows rested on the counter, eyes pulling away from the four year old that was trying her damnedest to grab a book from one of the shelves. He would’ve walked over to help had it not been for the fact that he was six-foot-three. She’d probably run screaming in the other direction.
“How are things in here? Going well, I presume?” Mr. Barlow asked with a small chuckle.
“I sure hope that’s what you would call this. Felix said he can’t come in today. Girlfriend’s birthday.” Dan explained, straightening his posture.
Mr. Barlow chuckled, the crows feet that were always at the corners of his eyes somehow growing. “I’m sure you’re doing just fine, Daniel.”
“Mr. B., I told you, just call me Dan.” Dan insisted, his smile growing wider.
“Forgive me, _Dan_ , I am an old man after all.”
Dan laughed. “You’re not that old.”
Mr. Barlow chuckled again, his breath whistling through the gap in his front teeth. “Well, I’ll see you when shift is over, Dan.”
“See you then, Mr. B.” Dan said and waved to the man as he hobbled into the back of the shoppe. The store room, slash Mr. Barlow’s office.
Dan’s attention was brought back to the little girl when she waddled up to the front desk, asking, very sweetly, “book?”.
Dan smiled down at her and nodded. “Where’s your book?”
The girl pointed to a shelf nearly three heads taller than her and looked up at Dan, her bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “Can’t reach.”
Dan chuckled and took the girl’s hand, taking her back to the shelf. “Which one?” he asked as he scooped her into his arms, holding her so that she could see the books. She giggled and let out a tiny squeal, reaching for one of the books. Charlotte’s Web.
Dan held her out, making sure to keep a secure grip as she grabbed the book from the shelf. “Okay!” she exclaimed once she held the book tightly in her arms. Dan let her down, and she scampered off to her mother, holding the book out expectantly.
Dan pushed his hands into his pockets, watching the two. He hadn’t noticed Felix and Marzia walk in until they made themselves known. “Danny-boy!” Felix exclaimed, his Swedish accent hiding behind his words.
“Felix.” Dan turned to them with a grin. “And Marzia. And…” Dan trailed off, his eyes landing on the person that stood behind Marzia and Felix. He was tall - not taller than Dan, though - with black fringe swept to the left and wide, blue eyes. He wore a blue plaid button up and black skinny jeans.
But that’s not what caught Dan by surprise. What caught him off guard was that he’d seen this boy before. Dan remembered, vaguely, sitting with him on the bus stop bench.
“Hi, I’m Phil Lester.” said the boy, holding his hand out for Dan to shake.
Dan snapped from his daze and took Phil’s hand quickly, shaking it rather harshly. “Daniel. Daniel Howell. But, um, just call me Dan. My friends call me Dan. So, yeah, yeah, call me Dan.” Yes, Dan definitely recognised that voice. The memories from his dreams came flooding back to him.
“Nice...to meet you, Daniel.” Phil replied, taking his hand back slowly. Dan noticed the subtle way Phil wiped his hand off on his jeans, a slightly disgusted look flickering over his face.
Dan’s heart sank, but he kept up his normal stature. “I thought you weren’t coming in today, Felix.”
“Oh, I’m not here for work. Marzia wanted to stop by, introduce Phil, maybe get a book or two. You know her.” Felix explained with a small smirk.
“Oh! Marzia, by the way, happy birthday.” Dan said quickly after Felix finished his explanation.
“Thank you, Dan!” Marzia grinned and hugged Dan, squeezing around his middle before letting go. “I’m gonna go browse. Felix, come with me.” she continued, tugging on her boyfriend’s hand. | 694121e9ac5f470faa6a8fa065551fd6 | ['f72259d77edc4e22b916b1b7463f9666'] | “Brendon, I swear to God if you take that jacket off I will smack you.” Ryan threatened.
Brendon let out an over exaggerated sigh and nodded, tightening the sweater around his shoulders. “Thanks.” he said quietly.
Ryan smiled down at Brendon, leaning closer. Brendon’s smile widened slightly as he leaned up. It took a few moments before Ryan’s lips met Brendon’s, but when they did, it was the single most beautiful thing Brendon had ever experienced. One of Ryan’s hands moved up to Brendon’s cheek while the other carded gently through the younger’s rain-soaked hair.
Brendon leaned into touch, letting Ryan control the kiss. As it grew more intense, Ryan’s teeth scraping on Brendon’s bottom lip, Brendon slowly letting his lips part for him, Brendon felt himself fall deeper into the rabbit hole.
When Ryan pulled away, Brendon let out the quietest of whimpers. He let his eyes open slowly, meeting with Ryan’s once again.
“How was that for a first kiss?” asked Ryan.
Brendon blushed. “How did you-”
“I know these things.” Ryan grinned. “How was it?”
“Perfect.” Brendon replied, wrapping his arms around Ryan’s waist. “Just...perfect.”
5. Chapter 5
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Ah! I've returned to this! I've been so busy with Let Me Be Your Wings, and I really appreciate all the love I've been getting on that one. It really does make my day. But I've return here with a shitty chapter of this! Enjoy.
_ So she said, "That's OK _
_ As long as you can make a promise _
_ Not to break my little heart _
_ Or leave me all alone in the summer." _
“Ryan, you really don’t have to bring me along with you. I can just go home.” Brendon insisted, letting himself be dragged along behind Ryan as they made their way to his house.
“Oh hush up, Brendon, you’ll love Spencer.” Ryan replied and rolled his eyes. “Besides, it’s my house. I can invited whoever I want.”
“Ryan, seriou-” Ryan turned before Brendon could finish his sentence, placing a finger to the short’s lips.
“Hush.” he said.
“But-”
“No.”
“Rya-”
“Uh-ba-ba.”
“Ry-”
“Ah-ba-ba-ba-ba.”
Brendon stopped trying, folding his arms over his chest and huffing quietly. Ryan smirked proudly and tugged Brendon up the front steps of the porch and into the house.
“Dad! I’m back!” Ryan called out, leading Brendon toward the stairs. Brendon can’t help but think they must look a sight to the man now standing at the bottom of the stairs, the strong scent of what was probably whiskey wafting into Brendon’s nostrils.
“Who’s that?” asked the man, narrowing his eyes at Brendon.
“He’s a friend.” Ryan replied flatly.
“Here for game night?”
“Yes, Dad. Can we go now? Spencer will be here soon.” Ryan grumbled.
Ryan’s dad nodded and waved them off, letting Ryan drag Brendon up the stairs. When they got to his room, Ryan slammed the door shut. “I’ve got some old clothes you can borrow.” he said and began rummaging through his dresser, tossing a pair of sweats and a dry hoodie at Brendon.
Brendon caught them easily, slowly slipping Ryan’s still soaked jacket off his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. Ryan watched out of the corner of his eye, but Brendon didn’t notice. He was too busy changing, giving a violent shiver when the cool air of Ryan’s room met his damp skin.
As soon as Brendon was changed, Ryan turned to him, smiling a little. “You look good.” he said quietly.
Brendon chuckled. “Thanks.” he said disbelievingly.
Ryan stood there for a moment, staring at Brendon for a minute before he stepped forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. They only pulled apart when there was a knock on the door. Brendon’s face flushed while Ryan’s remained the same, save for the small, knowing smirk playing at his lips.
“Must be Spencer.” he pointed out. “Time to get the party started.”
6. Chapter 6
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> SEE, BREADSTICK, I WAS NICE AND DIDNT ADD ANYMORE ANGST. HOPE YOU ENJOY IT.
_ Well he was just hanging around _
_ Then he fell in love _
_ And he didn't know how _
_ But he couldn't get out _
_ Just hanging around _
_ Then he fell in love _
Brendon, Spencer and Ryan - sitting in their respective order - were in the middle of a heated session of Mario Kart when Brendon decided he was more interested in Ryan than the actual game. He’d already died thrice and was about to for the fourth time before Spencer smacked the back of his head.
“Pay attention, you idiot! You’re no fun if you’re just staring into space the entire time.” he complained.
Brendon blushed and turned his attention back to the game, steering his car so that he was in second place. He could feel a pair of eyes on him, and he was willing to bet that it was Ryan. They’d been exchanging glances the entire time they’d been playing, hoping Spencer wouldn’t notice. He didn’t.
When Brendon finished in second place, Spencer decided it was time to start with teams.
“I want Brendon.” he said immediately after, glancing to Brendon before he turned to Ryan.
“That means my entire team is CPU.” Ryan pouted. “Not fair at all.”
“You can have him next round.” Spencer replied and smirked. He knew Ryan was going to be whining about this until he got Brendon on his team, which would make for an interesting game.
Ryan sighed but didn’t push the issue further. He knew Spencer wasn’t giving up on Brendon. And he knew why. Because Spencer figured Ryan would be too focused on wanting Brendon on his team that he would lose the game. Spencer always was the competitive type. |
b5985bb788514d09a912c42ea6327220 | ['f7287ae7a5414ffaaf8ee8b18d600a78'] | When they arrived at the bar, Laura realised she had no idea why this was a private party and what kind of event this was.
“Hey Carm? Why is it a private event?” Laura asked just before entering. Carmilla frowned at her new nickname, she had never had a nickname so close to her actual name before. She liked it though and decided not to comment on it.
“It’s actually Will’s belated birthday party.” She answered simply.
“What?! Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t bring a present!” Laura exclaimed.
“You’ll be fine sundance, it was months ago anyway, plus he’s not expecting anything.” She answered as she opened the door to Laura motioning her to get inside.
“Okay as long as you say so.” Laura muttered as she walked inside.
The bar was filled with people, however it wasn’t as much people as there usually was, but there was still enough people by the bar to make it almost impossible to walk through. Laura caught a glimpse of Will and she saw that he waved at them, signalling them to come over to his table. Laura got a bit nervous, she knew who Will was but she had never talked to him. But then Carmilla put her hand on her back leading her forward towards the table and Laura felt herself relax by her touch.
“Hey kitty! Who’s this?” Will said as they started sitting down.
“Kitty?” Laura asked in both confusion and amusement as she looked at both Will and Carmilla.
“Ignore him, he’s being a dork.” Carmilla answered as she rolled her eyes.
“She’s just a little kitten, thinking she’s so cool and all.” Will answered with a snicker.
“Calm it dofus. Do you want anything at the bar?” She asked, he shook his head and she looked over to Laura. “One of those fruity drinks right?”
“Yea, that’ll be great. Wait let me just get my walle-“
“First drinks on me.” She said with a smirk and Laura felt herself melt. She nodded and Carmilla left in the sea of people. And she realised she had left her alone with Will. The coolest guy at University and the nerves came back.
“So, what was your name?” He asked again, crossing his arms and resting them against the wooden table.
“Oh, right. I forgot! I’m Laura! And happy belated birthday” She smiled at him and shook his hand.
“Will. Thank you! So, we went to the same university right? Kirsch has talked about you” He said as he took a sip of his beer.
“He has?” Laura asked shocked.
“Yea, you helped him study and in return you got to go to parties. Smart move.” He said as he put down his beer. “So, how did the interview go?”
“Wait, how do you know about that?” She asked frowning at him in confusion.
“I’m your stalker.” He said in a creepy voice.
“Okaaaay…Well, mr. stalker you are an excellent stalker.”
“Thank you, I try.” They both started laughing and Will shook his head before continuing. “No, but kitten over there told me about it. She said you had a interview with our mother, that’s all I know.”
“Wait, she talked about me?” She asked, once more confused.
“Yea she does, she maybe seems like a cool cat but she’s actually just a kitten.”
“Hey, stop talking behind my back imbecile.” Carmilla said as she handed Laura her drink.
“Calm down sis, just talking to your girl here. No bad intentions.” Both Laura and Carmilla stiffened at him calling her her girl. Neither really knew how to react to that, nothing had happened between them yet and Laura didn’t even know if Carmilla liked her.
Carmilla cleared her throat before changing the subject. “Well, did she tell you how the interview went?”
“She was just about too before you interrupted us.” He said in a mocking tone which made Carmilla roll her eyes. “Go on.”
“Well…” Laura felt a bit nervous now when both eyes were on her. “First off, no offence but your mother is scary.” Which made Carmilla smirk and Will throw his head back laughing. “Secondly, I got the job.” This made Will’s laughter sober up directly.
“You what?” He asked shocked.
“I got the job…” She repeated, looking nervously at Carmilla nodded at her to go on.
“I…I really didn’t think I would get it, because well the interview didn’t go as planned and she got mad and-“
“What do you mean not as planned?” Will asked.
“She yelled at her.” Carmilla said before taking a sip.
“You what?!” He exclaimed in even more shock. “You? You yelled at our mother? You’re like what 5,3?” He asked.
“5,2 actually. Not that size matters.” She said as she took the straw and started drinking.
“No of course not but you… she is like hardcore. I didn’t know you were that hardcore, I’m impressed.” He said as he nodded his head and looked at Carmilla.
“So you yelled at her then what?”
“I’ll be right back, just gonna go say hi to Kirsch.” Carmilla excused herself and left before Laura could continue. She felt that as fast as they got into the bar Carmilla had started acting more like how she was before. Her guard was up and it made feel a bit sad, it felt somehow like she was avoiding her, but maybe it was just in her head.
“Well, I thought my career was screwed forever, but she called me back up and said I got the job. She said I had told her the truth and that was exactly what she was looking for. So yeaaa. I got the job.” She said with a satisfied smile.
“High five on that!” He highfived her and she tried to hide the grimace of pain. Carmilla and Kirsch joined them and Kirsch met Laura with a hug, which surprised both Carmilla and the short blond. | e81e2df7d1d4460dad152e9351ecf11e | ['f7287ae7a5414ffaaf8ee8b18d600a78'] |
1. Chapter 1
The reader and the talker.
Disclaimers: I do not own any of the rights to the characters from Carmilla.
—————————————————————————————————-
Chapter 1:
Laura unlocked the bookstore and pushed the door open with a huff, making the doorbell cling. It was the third day this week she had to open the shop, even though her boss had told her that she would be getting more afternoons shifts to make it equal for all the employers she really didn’t mind the early morning opening. It was quite cold outside, but as soon as Laura stepped into the bookstore she felt the warmth spread through her body. The smell of books filling her nostrils soothed her and she always felt like she belonged with all these books of love, adventure and fairy tale. She couldn’t be happier that her friend, LaFontaine, had helped her get that interview a couple of months ago when she moved to the city.
She took a quick look around the shop before she decided that it was time to open the store.
The day passed on quickly, she had sold some few books, helped some customers and mostly walked around rearranging the bookshelf's.
“And that will be 10.99” Laura said with a smile on her face, the costumer gave a polite smile back, payed, put the book down in their bag then exited the shop.
Laura had noticed a couple days ago that there was this one woman who seemed to come by every single day, but never buying anything and there she stood again, in the vampire section reading Twilight. The brunette had a look of confusion and irritation on her face as she turned the page. The woman was probably a couple of years older than her, with long raven hair, always wearing black clothes and always stood in the vampire section. It couldn’t go unnoticed, even though her friends might call her unfocused it was not hard to spot the tall raven haired woman, who seemed to have an obsession with vampires. Laura had never understood the trend with vampires, she was more the love/drama kind of book reader. Suddenly she noticed something that struck her irritation. The black clothed woman seemed to have read over half the book. It’s one thing to read one chapter and then from there decide if you want to buy the book or not. But reading the entire book without buying it? That was not okay in her book, this was a book STORE not a library. Laura decided to walk over to the woman and ask if she maybe needed some assistance.
“Hi, can I help you with something?” She asked as politely as she could.
To her irritation the woman didn’t even look up from the book and before answering a simple “No”
“Well” she said before clearing her throat, hoping to gain some attention from the woman. “Tell me if you need anything.”
“Sure” The woman said in a flat tone without raising her eyes from the book.
Defeated, Laura went back to rearranging the books in a shelf nearby, now being worried that the woman might be stealing the books instead. However, this seemed to not be the case as the woman quickly put the book back down and left the shop.
“Odd…” She thought, but her mind quickly drifted to the other costumers who had just entered the shop.
The next day she saw the woman again, yet again reading Twilight. She let out a sign of irritation, it was such a frustrating situation. Of course she was happy to have an enthusiastic reader coming in every day, but at the same time this was a store and the books had to be sold. It would be as weird as going in a supermarket, eating the food and then leaving without paying. She pondered over the thought of walking up to the woman and tell her off, but she was more focused on her other clients she had at the time and when they had recived the help they needed the woman was already gone.
The next day, again, the woman stood in the vampire section again. But this time she was holding another book and Laura realised that she had actually finished the last one. That was the last straw. She had to act, this was a business after all.
She walked up to the woman with determined steps. The woman wasn’t even acknowledging the fact that she was standing right next to her and looking straight at her. Or if she was, she simply didn’t care.
“Excuse me?” Laura said politely.
“Yea?” The woman answered, yet again not looking up from her book.
“Well, I’ve been noticing that you’ve been here the last couple of days reading our books. And as happy as I am to have a client who seems so passionate about books, you can’t just read the whole book without buying them. We aren’t a library but I could happily point you to the direction of the library.” She said with a smile on her face, she had learned that working in a shop you always have to be polite even thought you want to show them that you are clearly irritated.
“No, I’m good here.” The woman answered casually as she turned the page.
“I don’t think you understand” The blond haired woman answered with a huff “As I said, this ISN’T a library, if you're gonna read it you’ll have to buy it!” The woman finally looked up and Laura was stunned by her beautiful brown eyes.
“Hey, chillax cupcake. I’m just taking a test ride, just like people do with cars. You’ve got to test it first before you buy it.” She answered with a slight smirk on her lips. |
4bad3ffcc9cf464eb60d78424a7e7543 | ['f733122cceca4301874dfaefee2f57a0'] | “Elizabeth, Jughead…” Alice replied letting out a long sigh, walking around the breakfast island that was cluttered with paperwork and half eaten sandwiches. “Charles and I have been working together. After Hal was sent away, I was looking for any distraction I could find to keep myself occupied and not thinking about how I spent two decades married to a serial killer. After Polly came home and started telling me more about the farm and all the ‘benefits’ it had and the therapy she had there to deal with losing Jason and the man she spoke of like he was some god. I done some research and came up with nothing. I was concerned and things just didn’t sit right with me, so I went to the FBI…” “Wait!” Betty interrupted her voice filled with anger. “So from the very beginning you knew something wasn’t right, you knew how crazy it all sounded and you still left? Even after going to the police?” Alice’s face now draped in disappointment, she could see in Betty’s eyes how much she had hurt her, how angry she was for leaving and abandoning her. “Honey, please let me explain.” Alice said making her way to Betty, pleading in her voice and desperation in her eyes. “I went to the police, because I knew something wasn’t right. I explained everything Polly had told me, Betty… they already knew about Edgar, they knew all about the farm and the ascension and god knows what else. They had been trying to find him for a while, but he kept skipping town and after I had told them about Polly and the twins, that’s when we decided I would help. I did everything to try and bring him down and get Polly back and out of that Jamestown nightmare.”
Betty stood there stunned, processing everything her mother had just relayed to her, how she didn’t abandon her for the farm, how she wasn’t brainwashed by some crazy cult leader and how she done it all to save her family. “So… You’re…” Betty began asking, but before she could finish, Charles interrupted her; “I’m special agent Smith, after some time working with your Mother… We put two and two together and here I am.” Charles finished off with a shrug.
“Dad… did you know about all of this?” Jughead asked FP who was now pacing the kitchen running his hands through his hair.
“No son… not until yesterday. After you left, I was just leaving the station to come home when Alice and Charles were waiting outside. Once we got back here that’s when I found out. I’m still getting my head around it too Jug.”
As Betty embraced her mother in a long, intense hug; all the worries of her being alone in the world seemed to disappear. Of course, she knew she had Jughead and she could not be more thankful that he was staying in Riverdale, even more so now. But knowing that her mother hadn’t gone crazy and become another casualty to Edgar Evernever was overwhelming. “Where’s Polly Mom?” Betty said as she pulled back from the hug, keeping a grip on her mother’s arms with worry in her tone.
“I… I don’t know, after Edgar started to arrange the ascension, I found her…but she was gone Betty, the Polly we used to know wasn’t there anymore, she was telling me how she would be with Jason now and I would be at peace if I went with her. Honey I tried everything to get her to come with me, but she wouldn’t. I called Charles as soon as I could and escaped through the old tunnel… Betty no one who was there that night has been seen.”
8. Back To Where It All Began
As Betty stood there, gripping onto Jughead’s hand so tight her fingertips were turning white and her palms were laced in sweat. There was so much to process, so many details to consume and more than enough questions to ask but no words could escape her, she was silent, her mind racing and heart pounding.
“Elizabeth...” Alice started, snapping Betty out of her silent trance.
“I know things have been crazy and so much has happened, but I need you to trust me... I need you by my side. I know I don’t deserve it and I know I’ve been a terrible Mother, but Polly is out there... out there all alone, away from her babies, completely brainwashed by those, those people and we need to find her, please... help me find her?” Alice begged as she faced Betty, her eyes filling with tears and her shoulders slumped, defeat written all over her face.
“She’s my sister, Mom. Of course, of course I want to find her, I want her home and as far away from those lunatics as possible.” Betty replied leaving go of her tight grip on Jughead’s hand to embrace her mother in a long overdue hug.
Silence filled the air once more. An awkward array of glances were exchange as the three men stood quiet, waiting for someone to speak, someone to let out another secret or another tragedy. Waiting for something that would break the tension between this newly forged family.
“So… my guys down at the station are waiting for the FBI to get into town... it shouldn’t be for another couple of hours.” FP said, breaking the once again silent kitchen.
“I’m gonna head down there now, see if they found any more leads.” FP added as he collected his keys from his pocket and placed his hat proudly on his head. | d8be086114994d3a88abde010cdfd219 | ['f733122cceca4301874dfaefee2f57a0'] | As Veronica twisted the doorknob, the slight squeak breaking the silence. She glanced back at her mother, who was sat back down, elbows resting on the table and her chin on the back of her hands. “I’ll ask Sourberry to call me when your bail is posted.” And with that Veronica left, making her way to the lobby, emotionally and physically drained. Veronica was not one to back down from a challenge, nor let her loyalty waver. But this was different; the battle had commenced. The war was declared. The modern-day Montagues and Capulets, two sides of the same coin. Sleeping with enemy had a whole new meaning now.
7. Brother, Where Art Thou
Jughead took in a deep breath, Betty standing beside him as they both looked on at the formerly known Cooper household, the bright red door still intact. “Should I knock?” Betty questioned, confused that her mother was calling her from the Jones’ home, not knowing how to approach the situation and completely perplexed at the last 24 hours. Jughead turning his gaze to Betty, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a set of keys; one to his hog, one that once locked the door to his childhood trailer before he and Betty had torched it and one to the house that stood before them. All accompanied by a small solid crown, made completely from solid silver. “I got it.” Jughead replied turning the key into the already unlocked door.
As they both entered the house, the slight muffles of background chatter came to a stop as the door closed behind them. “Elizabeth… Oh, honey I am so happy to see you.” Alice Cooper said embracing Betty in a hug so tight it could have cracked a rib. “Mom… What the hell is going on? Where is Polly? Why are you here, calling me from Mr Jones’ house?” Betty replied, pulling away from the tight grip her mother had over her. As much as Betty had missed her mother, she had too many questions and more than enough pent up anger towards her to let this be a regular family reunion. Alice stepped back with sadness in her eyes that her warm welcome was not reciprocated; “We’ll explain everything.” She said making her way towards the kitchen, giving a brief glance back at Betty and Jughead who were now staring at each other, dazed and confused. “It’s nice to see you too Jughead.”
The house was silent; no muffled chatter, no tv on in the living room and no radio playing an assortment of rock music as it usually was since the Jones’ moved in. As they all entered the kitchen, Betty and Jughead turned their attention to the stranger sitting at the breakfast island; his slick back hair, his grey suit and the brown leather holster that held a shining silver gun. Their attention quickly turned to a familiar face; FP Jones. “Welcome home, boy. Sorry you had your trip cut short… Heard all about that business with Hiram Lodge and Hermione, crazy son of a bitch.” Jughead met his father in a small but firm hug, “Hey dad, yeah… we err, we just came from the station.” Jughead replied glancing a look over to the man who was meeting his stare. “Okay, does someone want to tell us what is going on here? … and I’m sorry, but do I know you?” Betty questioned, making her confusion known to everybody in the room.
Alice made her way over to Betty, putting her arm around her shoulder and gestured to the man who was now standing to his feet, giving a small flash of his bright white teeth. “Elizabeth… Jughead… This is Charles. He’s your brother.” And with that the house was silent again. It took a second to register Alice Cooper saying those 3 words, letting them stir around the air, allowing Betty and Jughead to process them.
It wasn’t the shock of sharing a brother, that is something Betty and Jughead had come to terms with a long time ago. Technicalities and the strong understanding that in no way, shape or form was there any DNA shared between the two of them, despite their shared sibling. It certainly wasn’t something that would come between them and be a determining factor in their relationship.
Jughead was first to step forward, giving a reassuring nod to Betty as he reached out a hand to shake Charles’. “So, you’re the real Charles, eh?” Jughead said with a glimpse of a smirk across his lips. Betty was next to offer a hand to Charles; “It’s nice to meet you, honestly...” Betty taking a step back and turning her body to her mother. “But what has all of this got to do with the FBI and the farm?” |
666bd019d47849f7966af24e24144bff | ['f752352e9abf42f587f9fbf60e56b934'] | You stopped in your tracks, looked at him for a few seconds... and completely lost it.
"Oh my god, that is the dumbest thing I have ever said." He giggled a bit with you.
"No, Kyle, you don't understand, it's not dumb, because _it's completely true!_ Oh, that is genius!" Tears were rolling down you cheeks by now. "Ah, but she's not exactly single is she? How unfortunate for her best friend. Little did she know that the only gentleman she needed was right in front of her eyes the entire time! Haha!" You shed the last of your giggles and looked back up at him. "Thanks, Kyle, I really needed that."
"Ha... Anytime."
You two had finally arrived at the theatre downtown.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Ike goes through puberty again?? *le gasp*
>
> Oh, and actually I'm half tempted to switch this up and make it into a Wendy x reader fic with some Kyle x Stan. But fine! I promised you a Kyle x reader fic, and I shall provide! But I'll do so bitterly, with passive aggressive mentions of what could've been between you and Wendy.
6. IT'S THE END MOTHERFUCKERS!!!
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> *climbs out of hell*
> "I... I finally got it!! The new chapter!"
> *Satan drags me back in*
> *screaming ensues*
>
> We cut to you stuffing your face with popcorn.
When Kyle invited you to go on a movie... _date,_ well, you weren't exactly expecting this. I mean, it's all good. You're fine. But you were kind of expecting a romantic movie, maybe a little comedy, normal stuff like that, right?
Ha. Hahaha. You seriously thought that Kyle would be interested in that, (y/n)? Nah. You watch a horror remake of _Asses of Fire_. Who thinks of these things?
You thought that after watching _Seven_ with the gang, you would be immune to horror from now on, but apparently Terrence and Phillip scare the shit out of you, because in no time, you're clinging to Kyle's arm in fear. He gives you sideways glances every now and then, as if to say, 'What the literal fuck, (y/n), you just jumped at a fart joke.' And, really, that's a fair point, Kyle. But you swear that the duo hires personal demons for each of their assholes.
You only realize that you're practically crawling on top of Kyle when the credits roll and the lights turn up. Whoops, that's a little embarassing. You turn to your date (yep, that's what we're calling it now) and see that he has a crimson tint and a terribly concealed smile. When you quickly break away and dust yourself off, he bursts into laughter that ceases to stop for about two full minutes. You just roll your eyes and lightly punch him, muttering, "It's not that funny..."
"Yeah, it kind of is, (y/n). Oh my God, I wish you could've seen the look on your face!" He wipes the tears from his eyes. "Straight comedy gold, right there. Alright, shall we get going?"
"Y-yeah, I guess so." You're kind of embarassed by the whole thing. I mean, who wouldn't be? Your crush just laughed at you for a solid few minutes. To make things worse, when you get embarrassed, you get painfully silent.
Kyle notices this quickly and decides to pull you to the side to speak up about it. "Hey, you know I'm not making fun of you, right? I honestly thought it was kind of cute."
"Wha--" You look up into his emerald eyes. "R-really?"
"Uhm, well, yeah..." He sheepishly looks to the side, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, (y/n), that's kind of the reason I asked you to come with me. I think you're really cute - not just the way you look, but your giggles, the passionate way you talk, your blush, the way you look at me... I could go on. Look, I planned this out a lot differently, but the point is... I really like you."
You stare up at him in awe, eyes wide with wonder. You had dreamt of this moment countless times, yet you never could've imagined that it would feel this... magical. Your heart pounds at your ribcage, struggling to escape its imprisonment. You feel heat rushing to your cheeks and stinging liquid begins to rise in your eyes. Tears finally break through, streaming down your cheeks, and you bow your head as you allow the blinding grin to show on your face.
Kyle - concerned and oblivious, as he is unable to see the joy written on your face - jumps a little when he hears your choked sob, and ventures closer to your figure. "Oh, shit - hey, look, I didn't mean to - err, well, I understand if - you--" He is promptly interrupted by your arms shooting out to encompass him and pull him into a hug, burying your head in his sweater. He hesitates for a second, only to hug you tighter.
"I love you, too."
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> ...and then y'all fuck. Yessiree, right there in the movie theater. "You feel comforted by the grungy floor beneath you as you rub popcorn grease into your lover's hair. You pay no attention to the onlookers adorned with 3-D glasses, distracted by the way he makes you feel even stickier than what is accomplished by spending two hours in a movie theater."
>
> ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆HAPPILY EVER AFTER｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
>
> P. S. Please send requests, I would love to do oneshots... no guarantee that I'll actually do it but I'll try | 5dfa33378ff7484d8dea56f1451a671f | ['f752352e9abf42f587f9fbf60e56b934'] | No. That was ridiculous. Maybe you weren't as good as her, maybe not as beautiful, hell, maybe you just weren't as unattainable and desired as her, but you were still his girlfriend of four and a half months. You two rarely fought. You always had a ton of fun on dates. Everything seemed to work out under the covers. You were one of the happiest couples you knew. There was no way Jumin had any... _regrets_ towards you. Right?
You hear the tone of the elevator, signaling that Jumin has returned from work. You lift yourself off of the couch and dust off your satin red skirt, wanting to make yourself look presentable when welcoming him in. You attempt to quiet the click of your glossy black kitten heels as you walk towards the entrance. You always have to be as perfect as you imagine Rika to be, you remind yourself over and over again. You straighten your shoulders as Elizabeth 3rd basically skips past your legs, meowing in excitement at being able to finally see her beloved owner. She has grown used to you being there, and although she loves you, she will never hold the same affection for you as she does Jumin... Hm. Reminds you of another relationship.
Jumin finally turns the doorknob and enters the place you now call home. "Hello, Elizabeth. Hello, my dear." He looks up at you but he bends down to stroke Elizabeth 3rd with his long, elegant fingers. He smiles brilliantly up at you, and though you know it is genuine, you wonder whether it was actually generated by your presence, not Elizabeth's.
"Hello Jumin! I've missed you. Can I get you some wine? You look exhausted." You recite perfectly rehearsed lines without breaking a sweat.
"Please. I'll have whatever you're having." He stands back up, finally satisfied with petting Elizabeth 3rd, and takes a few long strides towards the couch as you hurry to collect two wine glasses.
Once you set the glasses down on the polished mahogany table, you sit next to Jumin, close enough to not make the distance seem apparent, but far enough to keep control over your feelings. When you become emotional, it certainly doesn't help to watch his facial expressions too closely. "How was your day, then, honey?"
"Oh, it was fine. The meeting with the American company -- you know the one -- went well, but it took longer than expected. Part of the issue was their translator's extremely thick accent, but it was mostly -- wait. I noticed something, I meant to ask you about it. Is..." He clears his throat, which is surprising, because that usually means he hasn't properly gathered his thoughts, a rare occurrence. "Is everything alright with you? You seemed tense the moment I walked in the door. You're not... upset, are you?"
Your face suddenly glows a bright shade of red, giving you away immediately. Nonetheless, you try to act your way out of it. "N-no, of course not! I... why would you think that, haha?" You forget that, unfortunately, you have always been a horrible actress, and that you're _positive_ Jumin's had Jaehee install a lie detector in him.
"(Y/n). Don't lie to me. I won't let this go until you tell me the absolute truth, and you know I'll be able to tell. There's nothing to fret about, just tell me and I'll try to help." He looks straight into your eyes, making it almost impossible to tear them away from his steely grey ones.
"J-Jumin, I... I'm not sure if you'll want to hear about it. It's kind of a... touchy subject."
"(Y/n)."
"O-okay, fine. It's, um... it's about Rika."
He visibly stiffens, but his face doesn't give anything away. "Go on."
"I don't want to seem like a whiny bitch or something, but... um. I just wonder, constantly actually, haha, am... am I good enough for you? I never feel like I'm as perfect as Rika, because everyone tells me she was the kindest person they've ever known, and I just don't know how to meet your expectations?" You squeak at the end of your phrase, but go on anyways. _"AndsometimesIreallydoubtwhetheryouactuallylovemeorifyou'restillmoreinlovewithher...!"_ You bury your face, the shade of a tomato, in your hands, not wanting to see his reaction any longer.
He stays silent for, to be frank, a worryingly long amount of time. You start to develop a cold sweat and your joints knock a little. Finally, after a sip of wine, he begins, "(Y/n), you know I love you, I tell you almost every da--"
"Yes, Jumin, I know that. And I love you too. But I need to know, do you regret being with me? I don't expect you to just forget Rika. That's unfair. But I haven't been about to get over the idea that you aren't completely satisfied with me. So, Jumin, I don't want to force you into a decision, but--" You take a sip of wine to gather your courage. "Who do you love more? Me, or Rika?"
Jumin, like you, has never been an excellent actor, but he is usually able to keep a pokerface after years of training to kill off his emotions. However, now he is unable to conceal the shock clearly written all over his face. "I -- wait, _what?_ You're not making any sense, there's no way I'm about to compare you to my dead friend. It's just--"
"Jumin, you're starting to make me doubt you. Answer the question."
"No! You're being absolutely ridiculous, there's no way I'm going to choose one of you, it's disrespectful to her, and you two are totally different, and -- just stop this. It's unfair." He stands to set his now empty wine glass in the sink. You immediately stand up and try to keep up with his long strides. |
67494b9f97ea42709b79cff2dc9a75d7 | ['f763ddffad60417d8014efbaed020853'] | “Ryan’s gone away.” The Mad King pressed closer into Ray, his voice sickly sweet and taunting. “It’s my turn to play with you.” The Mad King’s other hand that had been pinning Ray to the wall shifted down, teasingly skimming the edge of Ray’s pants. He dipped below the waistband and dug his fingers into Ray’s hip, the lad jerking at the touch. The hand on his jaw moved to wrap around his throat, the Mad King applying a warning pressure that made Ray gasp.
“ _Let me go_.” Ray choked out as he tried to push against the villain, only resulting in the hand around his throat tightening.
“We could have so much fun together.” The Mad King spoke as he tilted Ray’s head and leaned in even closer, his breath ghosting over Ray’s ear. “As long as you _behave_ , my rose.”
“I don’t want you.” Ray bit out. “I only want Ryan. Give me Ryan back.”
Ray gasped as his head was drawn back and then slammed into the bricks, the Mad King’s icy gaze meeting his as Ray fought to remain conscious.
“He’s not here anymore.” The villain repeated. “That idiot pushed me away for too long. He didn’t want me near you.” He told Ray with a smirk. He began to push his hand up under Ray’s shirt, fingers splaying on the hero’s ribs. “His mistake really. I was impatient and he was getting weak from fighting. All it took was one little push while he wasn’t concentrating hard enough.” The Mad King gave a little chuckle as Ray continued to squirm beneath his grasp. “He’s screaming right now.”
Ray froze and stared in wide-eyed horror at the Mad King’s heartless grin. The villain tilted his head and looked off to the side as if listening for a sound from far away. He chuckled again.
“He’s _screaming_.” He repeated, eyes darting back to Ray. “He doesn’t want me near you. But I don’t think that’s fair, do you? Why should he have all the fun?”
“ _Please_.” Ray pleaded. “Let me go.”
“But we’ve only just met, my dear. We have quite a lot of catching up to do.” The Mad King urged, once again pressing in to kiss Ray.
“You really want to do that _here_ though?” Ray cut in quickly. The Mad King froze and pulled back to study Ray, curious of the hero’s change in argument. “In a gross as shit alley. I expected better from _royalty_.”
The villain’s eyes narrowed at the accusation and he took a step away from Ray, hand still firmly around the hero’s throat.
“I mean, come _on_.” Ray went on. “What kind of suitor would you be if you fucked your beloved in an alley?” Throwing his words back at him made the Mad King’s mouth quirk into an amused little grin. He removed the hand from Ray’s throat, the hero taking in a breath of relief, before he grabbed Ray’s arm and began to drag him out of the alley.
“You make a good point, my little rose.” He commended. Ray’s mind was racing, plans of escape and various moves of self-defense running through his head as the pair of them left the alley. The Mad King was dragging them towards Ryan’s car parked in a lot down the block from the bar. Ray didn’t want to struggle, he would play nice for now. If he tried to get away when the moment wasn’t right then the Mad King would become even less hospitable. So Ray stumbled along with him, wondering when the right moment would come. And praying that it would come at all.
Apparently, the universe decided not to fuck him over that night.
He only heard the revving of a motor for a second before being ripped from the Mad King’s grasp. He was lifted up, a pair of arms securing themselves around him, as he watched the street lights and neon bar signs became a blur in the night around him. He and whoever grabbed him went speeding down the city streets. Just as he felt himself begin to slip from their grasp the person slowed to a stop. The let him go and he stumbled away, looking around at his surroundings to find that they had moved blocks away from the bar before his gaze finally landed on Griffon.
The retired hero was bent over, pressing buttons on a pair of what looked like roller skates on her feet. Ray recognized them from old videos he’d seen of Madame Chainsaw’s fights. Motorized skates that allowed her to cut though streets with speed and precision.
“Griffon?” Ray let out in a breath. She looked up as pieces of her skates folded in until they formed armored combat boots.
“Are you alright?” She asked as she straightened and reached out for Ray, touching his arms and face to check for injuries. “Did he hurt you?” Ray took her hands and held them away from him.
“I’m fine.” He assured her. Griffon sighed in relief and took out her phone.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get there sooner. We were so wrapped up in comparing blueprints that we didn’t notice how he was acting. But Geoff saw his eyes before he left the bar to go after you and said they were familiar and that something was wrong and that we needed to-”
“Griffon.” Ray cut in. “It’s okay.” Griffon nodded and began to dial a number on her phone.
“I need to get you out of here. Geoff’s handling Ryan but you need to be somewhere he can’t find you.”
“It’s not Ryan. It’s the Mad King.” Ray corrected. Griffon glanced at him with something akin to pity in her eyes but she nodded in agreement.
“I’ll call and have Jeremy pick you up. You probably shouldn't go back to your apartment but maybe-”
“I need to go back to the bar.” Griffon stared at him in disbelief.
“Absolutely not.” | 4300dfd2a972440e8f32dc00a2fe442d | ['f763ddffad60417d8014efbaed020853'] | "On one of our missions we came across a piece of alien tech at a crash site. The species that made it used it to force its prisoners to live longer. It would bring torture victims back to life so that they could live out their full sentence. When I was taking the equipment down into the archives, it somehow got activated and since it was damaged from the crash, the effects were amplified. We didn't realize what had happened to me until later when we were back at the crash site. The species had returned for its equipment and when we didn't hand it over immediately, they shot person closest to them…which was me." Ianto closed his eyes, his mind going back to that moment. "All I saw was darkness for a while until suddenly I woke up to you sobbing over my body. You nearly had a heart attack when I reached out a grabbed your hand." He said with a small chuckle. He stopped laughing though when he glanced over and saw Jack with a serious expression on his face.
"What's going on in that head of yours Jack?" Jack let out a breath and turned on the couch so he was facing Ianto, sitting cross legged. Ianto copied his movements so they were mirrored.
"Why did you come here?" he asked. Ianto snorted.
"I told you. I came here for you Jack." Jack shook his head.
"Yeah, I know that. But you shouldn't have." Ianto cocked his head to the side in confusion. Jack sighed. "Ianto, I shouldn't have been such a big part of your life. Just because I'm not in your universe doesn't mean that you're not leaving anything behind. What about your sister? You have your sister right?" Ianto nodded but then stopped and glanced down, his hands clenching and unclenching in his lap.
"She thinks I'm a monster, Jack."
Jack blinked. "What?"
"As soon as she found out what I'd become, she was disgusted. I don't know why, she just thought it was unnatural…so she told me that she wanted me to stay away from her and her family." Silence fell. Jack wasn't just hit by the fact that Ianto's sister turned her back on him, but also by what he had said. He had used the same words he'd said to Jack when he had given him orders to execute Lisa. To use those words to describe himself made Jack's heart tighten.
"I'm sorry." He said quietly. Ianto shook his head as if to tell him not to express any regret. Jack thought for a moment.
"What about colleagues? Did you work with people named Toshiko Sato or Owen Harper?" He asked.
"We had the same team in the parallel world, if that's what you're wondering. Another one of the broadcasts we received described your team here." He looked up and locked eyes with Jack. "But I'm sorry Jack. They're both dead. The only ones left were me, you, and Gwen. And then the 456 incident happened and…well, you know the rest."
"Our worlds really are parallel." Jack murmured, never breaking the intense staring contest he was having with Ianto. He almost said "I win" when Ianto blinked and cracked a small smile.
"So you see Jack, I'm leaving nothing behind. My boyfriend and my coworkers are dead, Gwen has her own life with Rhys, and my own sister thinks I'm a monster. When the Doctor told me that I could have a chance to be with you again, of course I agreed." He moved closer to Jack, closing the gap between them. Jack enjoyed the sudden nearness. "You're the only steady aspect of my life anymore." Jack swallowed back the lump in his throat.
He was suddenly aware of the fact that they had both subconsciously moved closer to each other and now their faces were mere inches away. Ianto seemed to notice it too because the Welshman blushed and prepared to lean back, thinking he was invading Jack's personal space too soon. But Jack grabbed his face, stopping him, and brought him even closer. The last thing Jack saw was Ianto's eyes widen before he leaned the rest of the way in and pressed their lips together.
It was the same. It was absolutely the same, which was fantastic. There was still that same spark that had always been there. Jack got that same overwhelming rush of emotion that had scared him but delighted him at the same time. It was absolutely amazing to finally be once again kissing the man he thought he had lost forever. When he pulled away, his hands moving down and cupping Ianto's neck, he saw the smile on Ianto's face and realized he was wearing an equally thrilled expression on his.
"I love you Ianto Jones. I never actually said it to you before you died and I have regretted it every day since then. I love you, and I will always love you." Ianto's eyes began to water at the edges. He was beginning to cry but he held it back, as did Jack, whose emotions were beginning to get the best of him.
"I love you too, Jack." Ianto said, his voice cracking slightly. They each gave a shaky laugh and just stayed that way, enjoying being near each other once again. After a few moments Ianto cleared his throat and glanced down, his smile never leaving his face, seemingly fixed.
"So, what now?" He asked. Ianto sounded happy but confused, as if he weren't sure what was going to happen next for the two of them. It was the same uncertainty that the man had had when he and Jack were together, yet not actually labeling their relationship. But really, the only reason Jack never wanted to make anything permanent, to make it verbal and physical, was because no one lived forever. Only he did.
But now it was a whole different story.
"Well," Jack said with a smile as he reached down and took Ianto's hands in his. Ianto looked up and their eyes met; blue against blue. "I suppose we have as much time as we want to figure that out, don't we." Ianto smiled and squeezed Jack's hands.
"I suppose we do." |
94706512c9364bdf9463a356a1629e0b | ['f76c7d318c3f42e39c983a1bd8213ef7'] | The Love Letter
**Author's Note:**
> Ah the days when Blaise was gender ambiguous in text. Oh well.
_You looked at me,_
_And I knew,_
_that I would never be able,_
_to live up to what you expect,_
_To be Good Enough for you._
_And now I see,_
_Good Enough,_
_isn*t all that it's cracked up to be,_
_it's too long for me to wait for it,_
_to now set my passions free._
**My love, I feel that I am so lost. I watch you in class, and although a perfectly desirable man sits next to me, I pine for you. your soft lips, your hair that is so wild, your deep eyes... I want to find you in some dark place, and smother you with kisses. However, it cannot be. Our very births, our very beings, are against this love I share with you!**
**You know not who I am, nor WHY our beings are so close, yet so far apart. You do not know any of the obstacles in our way, yet you seem to return my love in YOUR letters. Let it be true, let it not all be a sham! I burn for you! Write your reply as soon as you can, hurry, for my heart has fragile wings that should break should you not be swift! Place it in our usual exchange place, and I shall have another letter to read and return!**
**Love forever and all ways,**
**~Love's victim~**
Hermione pondered upon the letter before her. It was filled with passion, and this strange and unknown lover loved with so much, that it almost hurt. Hermone had been getting these letters for several months now, and for the life of her could not figure out who it was. However, she was convinced that she desperately needed to see this strange lover.
Taking a quill, she dipped it in an ink well and wrote on a sheet of parchment : poetry, Shakespearian quotes, and plain prose. It was like a dam breaking. Only in these letters could emotion be let out. When she was finished, she sealed the letter with red wax, and pressed her seal that she had received with the first letter down.
Hermione hoped that this time, she would catch this Strange Lover, hold her (for it must be a her, with all the references that had been made!) down, and excite her passions.
Next to the stairs of the Divination tower, Hermione left the letter. But instead of leaving, she covered herself in Harry's invisibility cloak, which she had stolen that day. _Strange,_ she thought, _the things one does in Passion._
An hour or so later, a figure poked it's head into the stair well. After a few moments, the rest of the body appeared, and strode over to the letter. As she bent down to pluck the letter up, her hood came undone, and revealed her face.
Hermione gasped; this person was her lover! This person whom she had ordinarily viewed as incapable of loving, rather, the person whom she had seen and distantly admired, and hated, for being self-centered! Why, could this hate from before actually have been the beginning of love?
Pansy swirled around, startled. "Who is there?"
Hermione tackled Pansy to the ground, letting the cloak fall behind her. She smothered Pansy in Kisses, and Pansy just stared, being over come with shock. "Why do you not hold me, and cover me with kisses as you have written you would? Speak, love, that I may know your mind!"
Pansy exhaled and pushed Hermione off of her. "What the bloody Hell are you talking about? What has gotten into you, Granger?" Hermione couldn't push words out fast enough. "You aren't the writer of the letters? Then who is? Tell me! And what are you doing, taking letters meant for others?"
Pansy raised her eye brows and smirked. "Why Granger, it seems love has made you quite the fool. I am retrieving letters for Blaise, who claims that she is ill, yet would wish to have her Lover's letters. I had not realized YOU would be the 'Lover'. Poor Blaise, love struck for a Mudblood! What you do, pour a love potion into her glass and have it back fire?"
"I would never! Can you tell her to meet me?"
"No. Her father is going to take her back to France. That is where she was born, you know. Too jolly bad. Must go." And Pansy swept out, toe socks padding her feet, leaving Hermione sobbing on her knees to get over it. | 25ae11c660ae49d09a802a79e6b341df | ['f76c7d318c3f42e39c983a1bd8213ef7'] |
Pushing Me Away
**Author's Note:**
> ... So what did you do as a child?
I've lied / to you
Draco looked at his hands. He figured he might as well confess. "Ginny, It's true. I've been cheating on you. I know it's wrong of me but maybe-"
"Listen, Draco. You want to keep this relationship? You need to be truthful, and you need stop cheating on me. I don't care who with or why." Ginny threw her red hair over her shoulder. "Besides, you know for a fact that I'm not scared to hex you. I just don't want to ruin your looks. But if you keep destroying our relationship, I will not care. Damn, I have to get back to the castle... see you later." She ran from the edge of Hogsmeade back to the school. She had made this journey so many times, she knew the exact amount of time it would take her to get back.
Draco watched Ginny's retreating back, and shook his head. He couldn't figure out how she had become the dominate person in the relationship. It was insane. He wanted out sometimes, but he had feelings for her. But he just wasn't a faithful person. He stood up, and walked to the Three Broomsticks. "A hard butterbeer," he told the new bar tender.
The new lady smiled. "My boss told me you'd be in. My name is Bethney. What's yours?"
Draco struggled not to think of what this girl would look like in bed. "Just get me a drink. My name is Draco Malfoy. Here's the money for the drink." He pushed the money with a healthy tip across the bar.
"Okay, jeeze, don't act so bloody cold. I'll get you your drink." The tall blonde took the money, and got the rude gentleman she was serving his drink. What a rude person he is. I wonder, is he the same kid who was in first year when I graduated? He doesn't seem like it. Oh, well, I'll just forget about it. It is none of my trouble, I'm only the tender. And she didn't think of it again, or at least for a long time.
The same way that I always do
Draco woke up next to Blaise a week later. This always seemed to happen. Some times with Blaise, sometimes with Hermione (when he got her drunk), and even once or twice with a drunker then hell Harry Potter. A year out of Hogwarts, he was indifferent to who his sexual partners were, as long as Ginny didn't find out.
Ginny Draco sat up, found his clothes and his wand, and got dressed and ready to leave. Always, he lied to Ginny, and he felt guilty. Every time, she found out, and every time, Draco apologized. Again, Draco asked himself, "Why don't I just leave Ginny? She is strong enough to deal with it. She may bitch me out, but still.... " And that was how every morning went. The first thoughts upon awakening were, 'What if Ginny finds out?' And she always did.
Maybe Draco was weak. Maybe he had lost his strength after being with Ginny for two years. At first, he had seduced her, hoping to get laid by her before he graduated. Actually, he had bet his second cousin if he could sleep with Ginny, he would get the invisibility cloak from him. If not, he had to give his cousin, Willhelm, the hand of glory he had bought. They always bet on things like that. And, of course, Draco had slept with Ginny, but by that time, she had him wrapped around her finger. And besides, he had found she was a great lover.
But it just wasn't in him to stay faithful. Sure, he was content with her varying ways in bed, but... well, he wanted variety in WHO he slept with. So, three months after he slept with Ginny, he went, got Hermione drunk at a local bar, and slept with her. Of course, Hermione was ashamed of herself and had turned him in. And that was the first time. But now it happened all the time.
He left Blaise sleeping in her flat. The neighbor would tell Ginny about the whole ordeal the next day, after he lied again, like he always did when he slept with other people.
This is / the last smile
Draco found himself under the wrath of Ginny again. "Ginny, honey, I'm sorry, I-"
"Draco, I'm sick of it. I might have to bind you from doing this. I am going to make sure I tell all those sluts not to sleep with you. Now, let's move on. How do you want it today?" Ginny's anger faded as she grinned naughtily at Draco.
"Same as always, hun." And that was it. They didn't talk about anything that made much sense for a while after that.
That I'll fake for the sake of being with you
He hadn't slept with anyone but Ginny for a week. It was a long time. And he wasn't sure he could take it. Next time, it'll be the last time I am cheating on Ginny. I will dump her. I'll not go back, begging for forgiveness.
He faked a smile as Ginny looked at him. It was almost horrid the way she had him under her control. Maybe he should dump her before he cheated again. Maybe this will be the last time he would fake a smile at her.
"Ginny..."
She turned to him with a smile on her face, and her eyes seduced him again. "What, my love?"
"Nothing... just how much longer till we can go to my flat?"
She laughed. "Two more hours, then the teachers will think I'm back at the school. Okay?"
Draco nodded, mad at himself for backing down, for being seduced. For being with her. For giving in all those times. But he just kept it inside, to torment him. |
604d03d4690e4061936e59a65b2cc761 | ['f77254bea4244242b23c4b8c00e23e3e'] | “For sure! He’s always doing cool stuff like this! There was this one time at the beginning of our relationship where I wanted to hang out in the city with Honcho and Cuza and Free really wanted to go on our… third date, I think? But in the end we rescheduled because he wanted me to go out and have a good time! It was so wonderful of him to do that and then there was this other time, like a month I ago, where we both wanted to train with someone else and- actually scratch that. That was actually me and Sisco, haha.” Valt scratched the back of his head at his mistake. A small blush spreading across his nose. “But yeah, Free is the best boyfriend and I’m so happy when I’m with him. It just feels so natural to be with him you know. He takes care of me and I take care of him.” A fond look settled over Valt’s face as his eyes close, his hands resting behind his head.
“You know, sometimes I wonder what my life would’ve been like if I had never met him. Would I be as strong as I am today? Would I have traveled back to Japan or stayed here? I don’t even want to think about it if I’m being honest. I just really want to continue to grow stronger by his side and make people smile.”
Shu silently nodded. The smile he had on his face never faltering as he listened to Valt talk. He was happy for Valt, he really was. But, why did he have to bring Free up during their time alone.
This was supposed to be a time for the two of them to talk about themselves, not about their relationships. Or at least, that’s what Shu saw it as.
He had waited so long for this moment and now that he finally had the opportunity to be with Valt it was going to be ruined.
No, it wasn’t going to be ruined. Not if he didn’t let it get to him. He had to let go of these feelings and move on. He wasn’t about to let this get to him. If he truly wanted for Valt to be happy than he was going to listen to other talk about his relationship for as long as he wanted to, even if it hurt him. That’s what best friends were for.
“Earth to Shu. Are you there?” A hand waved in front of scarlet eyes.
Shu blinked as he looked to Valt. The blue haired blader was looking to him with confused eyes and a frown on his features, which was not something Shu wanted to see on the other.
“Sorry, I was listening, I was just- thinking about where we should go first.”
Valt beamed at the other, a smile stretching across his face once more.
“Let’s go to an ice cream parlor! I know this really great one a few blocks away from here. Come one I’ll show you.” Grabbing Shu’s hand, Valt dragged the other in the direction of said ice cream parlor. His smile continued to grow as he filled the silence of the other by talking about what flavors of ice cream were currently available.
Shu allowed himself to be dragged by Valt the entire way and even tightened his grip when the other nearly took them into oncoming traffic in a particular crowded area. Being able to spend time like this with Valt was a nice reminder of how they used to be in Japan.
_But we’ll never be able to go back to how things once were._ White bangs covered his vision as he continued to be pulled forward. _He’s with Free now and there’s nothing I can do about it. I want him to be happy and if I’m at least able to remain his friend than that should be good enough for me._
It should be good for him. That’s what his mind kept repeating to him until Valt dropped his hand to yank open the double doors, allowing him to enter with a grand entrance.
“Here we are!”
Shu brushed his bangs aside as he entered through the doors. The ice cream parlor was designed with an 80’s theme. The floor was tiled to look as if where a checker board. The tables and booths that overtook the floor where designed to look like the front seats of a car and its engine. Frames of black and white pictures hung around the walls and a jukebox in the corner of the room played some loud guitar music. All in all, Shu felt a little out of place in the building.
Here he was, wearing a sleeveless red workout jacket with a white crop top and a pair of ripped denim capris with white combat boots. The outfit had seemed like a good idea earlier, but now he could see just how wrong he was.
Valt on the other hand was wearing light orange shirt with short sleeves that flared out by his elbows. The yellow beaded headband he normally wore was instead replaced with an orange one with little stars as decoration. His shorts were a gradient of gray, reaching down to just above his knees and his shoes where a light gray with little wings poking out on each side. Normally he only dressed in a style similar to this on karaoke night, but today was an exception.
Valt lead Shu over to the front counter to look at the assortment of ice cream and pointed at several of his favorite ones. | 18ed6ce62174424e820dcef2ffcc097f | ['f77254bea4244242b23c4b8c00e23e3e'] | His free hand came up to scratch at the back of his head as he tried to think of the right words. But everything that came to mind didn’t feel right. He could ask the other to come back to talk things out or he could send a meaningful message explain that nobody could blame him for feeling this way. But every time his fingers began to type something he would quickly erase it until he finally unplugged his phone to shove it into his pants pocket.
_He’ll be back, I’m sure of it. I just need to give him time to cool down._
Rantaro made his way to leave the room, sneaking a look to Valt’s empty bed before opening the door to leave. Almost as soon as he opened the door was he greeted by Sisco.
The green haired blader had a look of frustration on his face as he held a sleeping Carl in his arms. The bird stirred a bit but other than that he remained sleeping.
Rantaro gave the other a questioning look before shutting the door behind him.
“What’s with everyone’s deal today Kiyama? First it was Sasha, then it was Free, just a moment ago it was Shu, and now even Cuza seems to be upset.” Sisco grumbled. His eyes wandering down to check on Carl as he adjusted the birds sleeping position. When he was satisfied with the new position he looked back up to Rantaro, raising an eyebrow, waiting for some kind of answer.
Rantaro ran a hand through his hair as he let out a sigh. This so wasn’t what he needed right now.
“To make a long story short, there was some drama earlier and I don’t know how or when it’s going to be sorted out. Does that help any?”
The green haired male looked to his side, seemingly to be thinking of what to say, but ultimately dropped whatever words he may have been thinking and instead nodded. He then made a move to walk away but was stopped when a hand was placed on his shoulder. Sisco craned his neck to look at Rantaro, giving the other a look of curiosity before the hand was removed.
“You said, Cuza’s upset? Would you have any idea what may have been troubling him?”
Instead of turning to face Rantaro, Sisco continued his walk down the hallway. His voice raising the farther he walked away.
“As if I’d know, he just got a text to meet Chris in her office.”
Rantaro nodded and turned to walk down the opposite side of the hallway. If Cuza was in Chris’ office then he was most likely there to help comfort Valt. And to be honest Cuza was probably the best person to be at Valt’s side right now.
Shaking his head to no one in particular, Rantaro made his way the cafeteria where he grabbed a tray of freshly cooked stew of some sort and made his way to table where Kitt was sitting at. He then pulled out his phone to send Shu a text before setting it to the side in order to enjoy his meal.
* * *
Valt sniffed as Cuza continued to rub soothing circles on the back of his back. His tears had long since stopped, but his body still shook with each breath he tried to take.
Why did it have to come to this? Out of all the time they had known each other Shu just had to confess to him now! Now that he was happy and content with Free, Shu just had to say that he liked him. And to make matters even worse, Valt had been happy to hear Shu say those words; “I do like Valt.” They had frozen him on the spot, and he was sure Free could see. He _knew_ Free saw it because in that moment he could feel the waves of agitation rolling off of Free before anyone else had.
If only Shu hadn’t had confessed, if he hadn’t had come here, if he had just forgotten about him, then maybe things wouldn’t have turned out like this. Everything would be the way it had always been, calm and peaceful with the occasional roughhousing here and there. But everything was different now and all he could do was try to put on a brave face and keep moving forward.
Valt sniffed again and the hand on his back stilled. Cuza looked at him expectantly, eyes looking back and forth from him and Christina.
During his thinking, Christina had come over to the two with a cup of water in her hands, holding it out to Valt. The blue haired male graciously took the cup to take a sip. Cuza then moved away in order to give Valt some space. Chris watched both males with arms folded before she took a seat next to Valt. She waited for him to set the cup down on the small table in front of them before she spoke up. Her words were careful and gentle.
“Feeling any better? I can get you some more water if you’d like. Or would you prefer to eat a little something?”
Shaking his head, Valt looked down to his hands. His fingers opening and closing into loose fists as they sat in silence. This was the worst.
Chris looked to Cuza, who nodded back to her in understandment.
“I’ll be going out for a little to give you both some privacy. If either of you need anything please don’t hesitate to call me.” With having said that, Chris gave Valt one final hug before moving to leave the room. She shut the door behind her quietly and soon Valt and Cuza were met with silence once more.
Not wanting to rush the other, Cuza leaned back in his seat. His eyes wandering around the room, taking in the scene. |
487b06dcb43642958c1c2250354c98cc | ['f78591a010d74abe98e27edd0fd0113d'] | So, Zayn did. He opened his eyes slowly, feeling some of his eyelashes clump together. Once his vision was clear, he looked down at Niall. Niall, who was standing right in front of him, but a little bit lower. Always a bit lower: he’d never grow those inches that he wanted to shift the universe with. Niall, standing right in front of him, surrounded by pictures of himself that could never compare. Zayn had thought he’d done a decent job with capturing Niall, in all the various forms that he’d tried, but now he saw that he really hadn’t. Niall was a million times more beautiful that any artistic rendition of him could ever be. Niall, standing there with his blonde hair and his crooked teeth and his pale skin and his ruddy cheeks and his blue eyes, that were suddenly made bluer by unshed tears-
Tears.
Niall was crying.
Dread cascaded all around Zayn, filling him from head to toe. Niall was obviously miserable about this, because he’s clearly uncomfortable with all the art. And no fucking wonder really, it’s fucking creepy and weird and Jesus, why didn’t Zayn just draw apples?
“I’m sorry.” Zayn blurted out hurriedly, feeling himself blush bright red. “I shouldn’t have brought you here, I shouldn’t have done what I did, I probably seem psychotic now and-”
“Woah, Zayn, calm down!” Niall said, giggling slightly as he scrubbed at his wet cheeks with the back of his hand. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, nothing at all, I just- I just-”
Words seemed to fail Niall. He closed his mouth abruptly and shook his head, staring at Zayn with endearment. He reached up and held Zayn by his cheeks again, tilting his head in to press their foreheads together. Zayn rested his hands lightly around Niall’s shoulders, not wanting to push in case he broke. Niall closed his eyes tighter, two big tears seeping down his cheeks. He let out a shaky breath, seeming to get choked up again.
“This is the best thing anyone has ever done for me.” Niall breathed, bumping his nose against Zayn’s angular cheekbone. “I never thought- I never imagined- I never would’ve guessed that this was what you were spending all your time doing.”
“Of course it was.” Zayn said hoarsely, finding his voice at last. “How could it not be? I haven’t been able to draw anything else since I met you.”
“Really?” Niall whispered wonderingly, another tear crawling down his cheek. Zayn could only nod.
“Yes.” he managed to say. “Even back in January, when we weren’t- weren’t talking as much, you’re all I could create. See the painting in the middle?”
Niall twisted around, taking another look at the portrait Zayn’d pointed out. He turned back to the artist and nodded solemnly. Zayn inhaled as he tried to arrange his thoughts into something coherent, into something he wanted to say.
“That was the first portrait I ever did of you.” he began. “Remember the night you sang for me? I was here right before that, working on it. It’s why I was covered in paint when I arrived at the practice room.”
“You had yellow in your quiff.” Niall said wonderingly, reaching up to tangle his fingers through the locks of dark hair on Zayn’s forehead. “And blue on your cheek.”
“I was surprised you didn’t figure it out then.” Zayn admitted with a small shrug. “It looked like I was trying to cover myself in your colors, cover myself in you.”
“I’m glad I didn’t.” Niall whispered back, his eyes glowing. “This was- this was so much better.”
“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Zayn said worriedly, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “It could be seen as sorta weird, I’ve been worried about that for weeks-”
“Mind.” Niall scoffed, his thumb rubbing against Zayn’s cheek where it was puckered, probably right where the blue paint had been that fateful night. “As if I’d mind. You’ve made me so beautiful so many times over.”
“You do that all yourself.” Zayn said instantly, unable to stop the words. “All on your own.”
“Is that why, then?” Niall asked curiously, tilting his head to the side.
“Why what?”
“Why you picked me.” Niall said, looking somewhat uneasy. “There’s so many people or things on this beautiful planet you could’ve chosen as your muse, things that’d be easier or get your portfolio accepted faster….so why me? Why am I your muse?”
Zayn had never really thought about it. Maybe he hadn’t had the time to, maybe he didn’t think it really mattered, maybe he subconsciously wasn’t letting himself. Whatever the reason, Zayn hadn’t really analyzed his choice of Niall as a subject for his portfolio. It’s just what had felt simplest, what he wanted to draw the most. He’d never really considered the dynamics between artist and muse, the feelings either held within or expressed by the artist as they struggled to create what they truly wanted. A perfect depiction of someone they _knew_ was perfect.
Zayn had never really thought about it. But once he did, he realized that it actually didn’t require much thought at all. It was a single bolt of information fired into Zayn’s mind, electrifying everything else, almost stopping the heart that never seemed to stop racing.
_You’re my muse because I’m in love with you_.
Zayn wanted to say it. | 9c6969feabe1472b9c017d5fb389cda6 | ['f78591a010d74abe98e27edd0fd0113d'] | "Happy birthday." Louis bursts out, shoving _Reflections_ into Harry's large hands. The boy's slim fingers coil around Louis' wrist as he takes the book from him, resting the pads of his fingers against Louis' skin, right on his pulse. Louis jolts at the contact, not expecting it, and he blushes, feeling his cheeks redden. "I heard you like books, and,-"
Louis' voice drops off quickly, because obviously he likes books, if he works at the biggest library in London. Louis isn't even supposed to know that fact, except unfortunately, he fucking does. Feeling hysteria over his situation bubble up in his chest, Louis offers Harry a limp smile, shrugging his shoulders. "And I hope you'll like this one."
Harry's studying the book, turning it over in his hands and opening the front cover. He reads the first page, eyes narrowing, and Louis' stomach twists, because no, he's not meant to start reading right this fucking second. Plus, the first page is the dedication, which "Gregory Stone" had thrown in at the last minute and regretted every minute since.
_To my family_
"To my family." Harry reads aloud, then shutting the book with a snap. "Bit of an odd choice of dedication, is it not?"
"I- I suppose?" Louis says, surprised at how direct he was. Usually, people hold back their thoughts on a birthday present until after the party, and don't voice them to the actual person who gave them the gift. At least, anyone Louis has ever encountered does: anyone with manners does. Beside Harry, Gemma is fidgeting uncomfortably, her expression tense. She turns marginally to her brother, biting down on her bottom lip with worry.
"I mean, hopefully all this love poetry isn't about his family, that'd be rather- _incestous_." Harry continues with a shrug, passing the book from one hand to another steadily. Louis tracks the movement, irritation coursing through him like blood. Who the fuck is this guy and where does he get off, thinking he can be so blatantly rude?
"Yeah, it would be, wouldn't it." Louis retorts sharply. "Thankfully, it's not about his family, I don't think."
"How would you know that, though?" Harry asks, tilting his head to the side, as if he was actually pondering the fucking question. "This book is written under a pseudonym, correct? Or did I read that wrong?"
"Harry-" Gemma says, her voice weak. She puts a hand on his elbow, and her brother turns to look at her, his expression unreadable. A silent communication passes between them, spoken through the narrowing of Harry's eyes and Gemma's grip on him tightening, and then he's all smiles, amiable and friendly.
"Well, thank you, anyway." he says, artfully wrangling his arm out of Gemma's grasp and taking a step backward from them. "Now, you all should go downstairs to the party, and I'll meet you there. I'm going to put this down somewhere."
"Why?" Niall asks as Harry turns on his booted heels and begins to walk away.
"Oh, you know." Harry says vaguely, pausing to look back at them. A few of his curls are falling down in front of his face, half-covering his eyes, but Louis can still see them glimmering with mirth. Here, he looks directly at Louis, a smirk stretching across his face.
"Wouldn't wanna drop it on my foot or something."
Louis flushes from his head to his feet, his entire face bright pink. Harry turns back around and strides away, not saying goodbye to any of them. Louis lets out a harsh breath, folding his arms over his chest in discomfort because seriously, what the fuck was that? With every second he stands there, his embarassment eases, but his anger builds. He wants to punch something, feels too big for his skin: that arsehole managed to rub Louis up wrong, in every possible way. Niall clears his throat awkwardly, and Gemma looks at Louis, her eyes imploring. Except now, Louis isn't endeared by the big, doe-eyed look, because apparently, it's a Styles family trait. In fact, Harry and Gemma are the spitting image of each other.
_There's something "incestous" for you_. Louis thinks smugly, itching to say it. He almost does, the words are on the tip of his tongue, but he looks at Gemma again, and deflates. Because her eyes are still her eyes, she's still Gemma, and she shouldn't be punished for things she didn't say.
"I don't know what's gotten into him tonight, Louis, I'm so sorry-" Gemma begins, sounding utterly dejected. "He's usually much better behaved than that, I don't understand-"
Niall coughs, as if holding back a laugh, and Louis glances at him, seeing his lips move. He listens more intently to Niall's mumbling, and makes out,
"Well, I bloody do, and it's that fucking Grimshaw-"
"We all have our off days, Gemma." Louis says loudly, overpowering what Niall just said. "Maybe today is Harry's. It's not a problem. Now, why don't we go downstairs to this ravage thing? 'M freezing out here."
Gemma smiles hesitantly, nodding and then going down the steps. Niall grabs Louis by the arm and holds him back from following her. He looks at him seriously, his blue eyes somber.
"Thank you." he says firmly, hugging Louis quickly. "Not many people could be as gracious as you just were. And I'll give Harry a right telling off when I see him next. The eejet has to learn he can't treat people that way-"
Louis definitely isn't a connoisseur of speech patterns or anything: he prefers the written word to the spoken. But he's figured out something about how both Niall and Gemma talk about Harry. They speak about him as if he's a misbehaved dog. A puppy that did something wrong and needs to be punished for it, even if you don't want to. And as soon as he comes back to you, head bowed and tail between his legs, you forgive him, because nobody can resist those puppy eyes. |
173fc7d3f9454f5a931075d13450e5f7 | ['f7af8e7c5552426d84ea010fdacf1416'] | "Pete ,look at me! I'm just a fucking pale overweight kid with no fucking social skills!! I should be in my room fucking studying so I can actually do something with my pathetic life! Not here wit- with someone like you!"
Someone like Pete. Someone like pete. What was that supposed to mean,someone like him?what was wrong with Pete? What did he do that could possibly make Patrick feel like this about him. What was wrong with him?
As if hearing his thoughts Patrick shook his head and muttered out a no.
"I.....I didn't mean it like that, Pete. You know I love you ,but- but I need you to leave me alone right now "
His words sounded defeated and his entire demeanor changed drastically within the few moments. He had gone from shaking and furious to slumped over and exhausted.
Pete just turned around hoping his hurt expression wasn't noticeable.
"Alright, I'll come back when you want me then"
"No Pete I don't-"
"I'll see you later Patrick"
He turned around and walked towards the door not seeing how Patrick had immediately slumped onto his bed and started crying.
Patrick let out a soft defeated 'fuck'
•
"I'm going to get a drink. You want anything?"
Patrick shook his head
"I'm fine, thanks "
Pete looked at him with an expression he couldn't quite place before huffing out an 'alright trick' and going downstairs for a drink.
Patrick felt tense and out of place in his best friends room. It shouldn't be like this but ever since Pete found out about the people from Patrick's school they'd started arguing and snapping at each other.
Letting out a sigh he stood up and walked over towards petes desk. There were piles of scattered and unorganized papers all over it. Patrick's lips tugged into a smile. It was Pete's desk after all. He was going to go sit back on the bed but something written on the paper caught his eye. He leaned down to inspect said paper. His eyes widened when he saw the words that were written down.
/for Patrick's bad days/
'You said they made fun of your body
Humiliation in your eyes when you told me
Well I'm gonna find them
Don't you worry
I'll make sure
They're really fucking sorry
You said you're embarassed of your body
You told me you think you're really ugly
Well my love I know you don't see
What I see
Anything that is beautiful
People want to break
And you are beautiful
I'm afraid
Anything that is beautiful
People want to break
And you are beautiful
I'm afraid
You said you're ashamed of your body
You'd rather die than show me
But I would love you in any
Form you take
You said that they say you're disgusting
That they told you you were fat and unworthy
Well my love I hope you trust me
When I say you have a perfect body
Anything that is beautiful
People want to break
And you are beautiful
I'm afraid
Anything that is beautiful
People want to break
And you are beautiful
I'm afraid'
He could feel his face start to warm up as his eyes scanned over the words. His eyes were damp and he was seconds from crying.
Hearing Pete's telltale heavy thumping coming towards the room he jerked his hand to his eyes to wipe away any tears and quickly shuffled back to the bed.
"Sorry I couldn't find what I wanted. Hope you didn't miss me too much , 'Tricky"
Pete said with that stupid shit eating grin.
Patrick knew he was only joking but he couldn't help it when his stomach fluttered a little at the older mans words.
He ducked his head , playfully shoving his friend.
"You wish ,dork"
Pete simply beamed down at the soft fragile boy on his bed with pure unadulterated adoration.
•
They were fighting again. Only this time there was shoving,shouting and hurtful angry words.
"GODDAMMIT ,PETE, CAN'T YOU SEE I'M NOT WORTH THIS?!?YOU KEEP TRYING TO SAVE ME BUT ALL YOU'RE DOING IS MAKING IT WORSE JUST LIKE ALWAYS. YOU RUIN EVERYTHING AND YOU'RE RUINING THIS TOO!"
Pete felt his heart drop. His movements stuttered before he looked away from Patrick.
Patrick could feel a nasty regret bubbling up as soon as the words left his mouth.
"Fuck"
He reached out to hold the older man but he moved away from his touch. "Fuck I'm so sorry Pete I didn't mean it. Fuck- you don't ruin shit. I'm so sorry "
Petes shoulders were shaking slightly and you could hear the soft crying. Goddammit. He fucked up.
He moved to wrap his arms around Pete and start running his hands through his hair.
"Shhh please don't cry I'm so sorry. Please forgive me ,Pete."
His voice was rough from all the crying and yelling. He hadn't meant to say that and he didn't mean one word of it. He'd just been so stressed about Pete always trying to defend him. If he didn't want Patrick that way it'd just be best if he laid off being so affectionate and protective. It hurt Patrick too much to even think about it.
He just continued swaying softly with Pete in his arms and whispered soft 'shh im here don't cry' and 'I'm sorry Pete it's okay. I love you's into the olders ear. Pete twisted in his arms and hid his face into the crook of Patrick's neck. Eventually his frantic sobs died down to quiet hiccups and the occasional sniffle. Patrick moved his head to look Pete in the eye. He hated himself so much for making him feel so sad.
"Pete"
Pete reluctantly met Patrick's gaze."Pete, please say you forgive me " Patrick quietly pleaded.
"Fuck- I- don't you get it ,pattycakes? I don't fucking care "
Pete choked out. | c0f1d54c70ac4f8f9fc61ca37b241754 | ['f7af8e7c5552426d84ea010fdacf1416'] | "I don't wanna."
"Come on, Tricky, you have to come out sometime."
"No."
It came out muffled from underneath the large fluffy blanket. Pete let out an exasperated sigh.
Pete had been trying to get Patrick out from his room all day, to no avail. The bed creaked as he sat down next to the blanket covered lump. The only response to this was a small whimper, and some slight shuffling.
"Come on out, Lunchbox, please."
Patrick peaked out at the older man with his soft blue eyes. Pete felt his lips tug into a smile at the small victory.
As much as he was loathe to admit, this whole situation was his fault. He had known that when Patrick's this deep in little space he gets scared easily. He hadn't meant for him to see that gory scene from the movie, but Patrick still did see it. In his defense, he had told the younger boy it was time for bed; He had even tucked him in.
He had just wanted some time for himself after spending all day at the park with Patrick. Maybe a horror movie was a bad idea, but at the time it didn't occur to him that the noise would wake Patrick.
"Hey , Patty, look who I've got."
Pete grabbed an old, multicolored, stuffed rabbit from the nightstand. " I think Mr. Rainbow wants you to come out now " -a/n that's the gayest sounding thing I've ever written-
Patrick moved closer to him.
"Yeah...?"
He said softly.
Pete nodded.
"Yeah."
"But,I'm scared...."
"Hey, it's okay. I've got you , Baby. You don't have to worry about anything."
He cooed at the younger boy.
"Really?"
"Definitely."
At this Patrick climbed out from under the blanket and into Pete's tattooed arms. Pete smiled at the sight of the pastel pink, skeleton, footie pajamas. He pressed a kiss to Patrick's head as he pulled him into his lap.
**Author's Note:**
> So this is my first work in this fandom. Please leave comments and kudos. Thanks for reading :)
>
> Visit my tumblr fanboybitch and send me prompts for things |
113c8dc19cca4b26a6f286e97a6ade83 | ['f7b387fdba6d4521b8d706bd33053f56'] | In the corner of his eye, he saw Nomu’s hulking form move and suddenly it stood back at his side. A hail of emerald orbs that had been aimed at Shigaraki’s back bounced harmlessly of his skin and clattered to the ground, causing the blue haired villain to take a look back over his shoulder.
Out of the pile of dust that had fallen onto him, rose the boy Nomu had just turned into a pulp. Cracks racing across his serpentine mask revealing the tech that was hidden inside, his armoured vest in tatters where the creature’s fist had hit it, blood covering his skin and staining his clothes, his eyes now glowing in two different shades of green and his hair turned into long, thin spikes of emerald that stood up high into the air. “That hurt like a bitch…”
Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Not a glass canon, then… maybe a tank? _Nomu!_ ”
Honestly, the speed and strength of this… _thing_ had actually surprised Izuku. Not only had it pulled someone else out of the way of an attack that was fired at a speed that came close to Mach 2, it had also blown through his strongest defence and to make matter worse, had just taken an attack that should be strong enough to leave a grown man beaten and bruised as if it was nothing. At least now he knew how they had planned to kill All Might.
_“Nomu!”_
This time Izuku was prepared as the creature charged at him. The sea of crystals behind him rose higher into the air and broke down towards the villains, obscuring their vision and colliding with the beast midway.
The Nomu countered the wave of dust with pure force, a single punch being enough to split the tsunami of crystals clean apart with wind pressure alone and revealing a new sphere at the point the green haired boy had just stood moments ago. The creature dashed forwards, blowing the protective ball of emeralds away with another strike of its gigantic fists, tilting its head to the side lightly in confusion as it found no trace of Izuku inside the sphere.
The air vibrated and the whole dome trembled as again a sonic boom ripped through the air and another emerald orb crashed into the Nomu’s side. The beast took it without even flinching and turned towards the direction the orb had come from, just to jump out of the way of a hail of spears. All the projectiles broke apart into tiny grains after missing their target and rose up into the air, forming a tornado around the Nomu, effectively sandblasting the creature.
Suddenly the tornado collapsed in itself, the grains morphing into a single crystal tendril that wrapped around its body and then dug deep into the concrete, locking the creature in place.
“Ok, I think I get it now.” Izuku’s voice drifted over the Plaza, just loud enough to make sure to attract the attention of the two main villains that were still standing in the centre of it while also making sure Asui and the others would hear the information he was about to share. “Insane strength and speed, some kind of super strong impact or shock absorption, probably even nullification and most likely heightened senses as well. But it seems like your impact absorption only works against blunt force? After all you still did dodge everything that was somehow sharp.”
The Nomu’s eyes fixated on a point somewhere inside the dust that was still in the air and in the background, behind the two main villains, Asui, followed by Kaminari and Mineta, sneaked towards Aizawa.
Shigaraki chuckled. “Trying to make it respond to confirm your theories huh? Forget about that, Nomu is never going to give you an answer, not that it could in the first place.”
There was a short silence and then Izuku’s voice came from a completely different direction. “Thanks, at least now I know that it really is just a mindless monster.” The Nomu’s eyes immediately snapped around and locked onto the new position he supposedly was at. “Ok yeah, definitely heightened senses.”
“You know, you’re pretty persistent for a first-year student.” The blue haired villain was scratching at his neck, he stopped suddenly and a creepy and knowing grin stretched across his face. “Ah so that’s it.” A crazed chuckle escaped his throat and his grin grew even wider. “Ah man, I really didn’t imagine we would get to fight a mini boss today.” A sharp edge found its way into the man’s voice. “Tell me brat, you’re Izuku Midoriya, aren’t you?”
Hidden behind a cloud of dust, Izuku’s face paled and his expression turned into a strained grimace as the Nomu suddenly bulged its muscles and tried to break free of its prison. The green haired boy just barely being able to keep the crystals from just breaking apart.
“Why so silent all of a sudden?” The villain was shaking in excitement. “Surprised that I know your name? You really shouldn’t be, there was quite the fuzz about you after all. You know, the possible _next All Might!”_ Another crazed laugh could be heard” “Kurogiri, can you believe it! We actually got a continue right here!” He laughed again. “Just think about it! Even though we didn’t get to kill All Might himself, we happened to stumble into the next generations symbol of oppression, and government founded violence. It’s a true blessing in disguise!” All the glee and joy suddenly vanished from his voice, leaving nothing than pure rage and disgust behind. “It’s a shame though that I didn’t have a picture, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered to let Nomu fight against you in power saving mode. See it as an honour, after all this was only meant to be deactivated against All Might. _Nomu, remove limiter!_ ” | 3238789a92be4848804a80889f2341df | ['f7b387fdba6d4521b8d706bd33053f56'] | “Young Yaoyorozu,” All Might’s attention turned back towards the screens, “would you rather try to fight this battle on your own or delay it until either Mineta returns or someone else who has already finished the exercise volunteers to team up with you?”
They saw Yaoyorozu thinking about it for a moment before suggesting something to All Might, who gave her a booming laughter before answering. “Of course I will grant you five additional minutes of preparation time if you want to continue on your own. That’s only fair, isn’t it?”
Bakugou and Izuku looked at each other with furrowed brows, even if All Might had already addressed the problem, the two of them now had their confirmation. Mineta was indeed a shitty little pervert.
“So Katsu, are we going for the regular treatment immediately or do you want to give him a warning first?” Izuku was looking at the ground, his voice just above a whisper, making sure, that no one would be able to accidentally listen in on them.
“Let’s give him a warning and then, if he decides to ignore it, go right for the _special_ treatment.” A crazed grin spread over the blond’s face and a few people turned their heads towards them as they noticed the waves of pure murderous intent radiating off from Bakugou. Even All Might gave them a wary look, but decided to ignore it in order to announce the beginning of the second match.
Match 2, Team F vs Team G, STAAAART!”
Ashido and Tokoyami entered through the main entrance, the combination of Dark Shadow and Ashido’s acid allowing them to tear through the traps Yaoyorozu had set up with ease.
It still took them quite a while to get up to the fifth floor where Yaoyorozu had prepared her main defence line. It was honestly very impressive, how many traps and barricades she had been able to put up in just ten minutes.
But the girl wasn’t done yet. Using a piton, she had positioned herself directly over the only door which lead into the room, where she had positioned the bomb she was supposed to guard, awaiting the arrival of Tokoyami and Ashido.
When Dark Shadow tore down the door and Tokoyami stepped in, she threw a flash grenade at him. The bright flash made Dark Shadow disappear and startled the boy long enough for Yaoyorozu, to jump down from her hiding spot and wrap a piece of capture tape around his beak, taking him out of the fight immediately.
After that, she jumped back, grabbed a staff she had produced before and got into a fighting stance to take on Ashido. But even though she showed to be remarkably skilled in the use of her weapon, Ashido in the end outmatched her due to her higher agility and the fact, that she at one point was able to melt the middle of Yoayorozu’s staff. She managed to capture Yaoyorozu just a few seconds short of running out of time.
“Hero Team, WIIIIIIIIINS! Everyone, get back here for the debriefing.”
The participants of the second match returned to the monitoring room at the same time as Todoroki. Mineta was nowhere to be seen.
“Ok students,” All Might was still way too loud for the small room, “The most important thing first. Who do you believe was the MVP of this match?”
“Well that’s easy,” Kaminari rose his hand, “it’s obviously Yaoyorozu.”
All Might’s attention focused on him. “And what do you think is the reason for that?”
“Um,” the blond gulped, “because she was fighting one against two and still nearly won.”
All Might sighed, “Even though your answer for the first question was correct, your reasoning as to why is rather lacklustre. I’m afraid I can only give you half the points for that. Would someone else like to try?”
This time Izuku spoke up. “It’s because of the tactic she used.”
“Absolutely right young Midoriya, but would you mind explaining it further?”
“Of course,” Izuku scratched the back of his head sheepishly, “but it may take a while.”
All Might laughed. “The floor is all yours.”
Izuku took a deep breath to calm his nerves. _Just don’t start stuttering right now._ “T- the first thing we have to take into account is, that not all traps and barricades Yaoyorozu did set up had the same purpose. Some of them were clearly made so stall for time or wear the attackers down by forcing them to use their quirks to get through them, while others did directly aim to take them out for good. You could actually tell which of the traps served which purpose by the way Yaoyorozu placed them. The ones who were aimed to take the attacker out were in general way better hidden and had hardly noticeable triggers.” He looked at Tokoyami with an apologetic smile on his face. “And I’m 100% sure, that, if it hadn’t been for Dark Shadow, Ashido and Tokoyami wouldn’t have gotten any further than the third floor.” He turned back towards All Might. “But even with the knowledge of how devastating and effective her traps are, Yaoyorozu still prepared for the worst possible case in which both Heroes would be able to break through and set up an ambush.”
“But…” Izuku made a short pause, “I believe after this the only reason Yaoyorozu managed to hold on for as long as she did was pure luck. Or to be more precise, the combination of the facts, that Tokoyami was heading into the room first, that Dark Shadow is obviously weak to bright light and that neither Ashido nor Tokoyami seem to have any idea of how to correctly clear a room.”
“Young Midoriya…” All Might tried to interrupt him, but Izuku was so deep in his analysis, that he hadn’t even noticed and was still going on. |
36f701c783724f429c2508c3a345313e | ['f7bddd018d27483982a7552df2270037'] |
1. The Prolouge
**Author's Note:**
> This is something I've been thinking about for way to long honestly. It's more no superpowers but there are also some things that will be questionable. Please enjoy. Kudos and comments are always welcomed!!
It was official; Harold 'Happy' Hogan and Virginia 'Pepper' Potts got married.
The news tabloids went crazy, spewling accusations and false statements as soon as the secret engagement became not-so-secret. Thankfully that was a week prior to the actual wedding so the majority of the engagement was spent with happy (no pun intended) bliss.
Those that had no clue immediately went to Tony Stark, asking if it was a betrayal or if he had known. They stood outside the towers everyday, all day, grabbing any person that walked in or out of the building in hopes that something would be said.
Eventually, after forcing Pepper to hide in the bathroom stalls of a nearby Wholefoods, Tony made a public announcement about how lucky he was to have Pepper and Happy in his life and how he wished them a lifetime of love and fortune.
Though people still had questions, they seemed sated by his statement and backed off somewhat. There were still articles being written and rumors whispered around, but they no longer harrassed Pepper and Happy and that was all Tony could hope for.
Those that were within the close knit circle that was made up of close friends and family had already known that Pepper and Tony were long over and were actually better friends than ever would be lovers. Happy had actually offered to resign and had personally gone to Tony to discuss his feelings before even confessing his feelings to Pepper. Tony simply waved him off and assured the other that all was well. When the two first got to together officially, Tony even played the part of doting fatherly-friend and gave Happy the "if you break her heart" talk, which Pepper rightfully rolled her eyes at.
At the actual wedding, there were many tears. Tony had to clear his throat many times while in order to stop the tears threatening to escape his eyes as he walked Pepper down the aisle and couldn't help the smile on his face as he stood beside Happy while the two gave their vows. Beside Tony stood Peter, eyes red with tears rolling down his face and the biggest smile his mentor has actually seen. He was so honored to be apart of the wedding and was honestly shocked when Happy threw him the invitation and the firm order of being there, then patted his shoulder with a smile and assured the younger man that his suit was already being made as he left.
At the start of the wedding, when Rhodey began the vows with "if anyone has any objection" Clint couldn't help but clear his throat and stand, causing everyone to chuckle and Natasha, who stood between Pepper and Maria rolled her eyes and act offended.
"I thought we were soulmates?" She spoke, facing the man, making sure he was reading her lips as she spoke.
"Oh you know you'll always be my favorite Nat," he chuckled back and the wedding continued.
The reception lasted well into the night and just as the last were to leave, Tony approached the newlyweds, who were dancing slowly in the middle of the room.
"I have a gift for you two. Well, two gifts actually," he smiled and reached info his jacket pocket, displaying two envelopes with a smile and handed one to Happy and the other to Pepper.
Pepper opened hers first and quickly hugged her friend.
"You shouldnt have!" She told the other as she ended the hug with a kiss of the cheek, holding the plane tickets close to her heart.
"Its the least I could do, really. You'll both be taking a month off of work, no ifs, and, or butts!!" He tells them, pointing specifically to Pepper. "The tickets really aren't mandatory, it's my jet you'll be flying on and my personal island you'll be staying at but it's a great suvineer," he told them jokingly. Then looks at Happy, seeing the other hadn't opened his up.
"What are you waiting for?" He bumped the bigger man's shoulder.
Hogan quickly opened the envelope and looked at it in disbelief.
"Wha… I don't- I…" he looked up at Tony in shock and after Pepper took the paper from her husband's hands to read it, Hogan quickly engulfed his friend.
"Woah! Better watch your hands, you're wife might get jealous!" Tony chuckled, hugging the other back.
"Thank you." Was all Happy could say.
"You're welcome, both of you."
¤¤¤
That's somehow what landed Peter where he was now, behind a counter, cleaning it while humming along to whatever trendy pop song was currently hitting the radios.
The gift Tony had given to Happy was a restaurant of his very own. Ironically, that's not where Peter was now. Peter was currently at his summer job, a collector's store owned by a friend of Tony's.
Happy himself told him that he had been given his own restraunt, something he's wanted since he got into cooking back in his boxing days but never had tried to do due to his loyalty for being with Tony (even with the restraunt, he'll still be working for Tony). Apparently Happy used to work part time at restraunts and mom and pops to keep a steady flow of cash on hand. Which is how (and why)the man had somehow convinced Tony to talk to Aunt May that it would be a great idea for Peter to get a part time job | 78faa094b2dc40448b185c25b3c6b0f7 | ['f7bddd018d27483982a7552df2270037'] | Soon enough though Aizawa deems that he doesn’t need both of them there, as Izuku knows all that the older man does, he leaves to help the fight. Izuku sighs and continues his work. He knows why his father (and the entirety of the village) doesn’t want him out in the open. Compared to them he is a toothpick, never able to grow muscle no matter how much he eats and works out. Izuku likes to think that that is what his mother inherited to him, though he wouldn’t know as she died when he was still a baby.
Izuku pauses in sharpening a knife when he hears the whistle-like sound that can only come from one dragon; a Night Fury. Taking one last look at the weapons that laid before him and then another look out the window, he furrows his brows and grabs a large contraption he has been working on, running out and into the streets.
Avoiding the people and dragons, he runs onto a hilly clearing and takes aim, keeping an eye out for anything. As though reading his mind, the dragon he’s been longing to capture aligns itself with his canon. Izuku releases to trigger and holds his breath. He sees the rope attach itself to the beast and watches with excitement as the dragon gets taken down.
“YES!” He yells, throwing his hands up, though yelling probably was the dumbest thing he could have done, second to disobeying orders.
A dragon makes eyes with him and surges forwards. Yelling in fear, Izuku rushes back towards town as the dragon releases fire towards him. He hides behind a pillar, knowing that the wood was doomed and soon he would be to if he didn’t escape. Looking around, he goes to make a run for it when the dragon snaps it’s head towards him and darts forward. Shutting his eyes and saying a silent prayer, he misses his father grabbing the creature away from him. Though as death doesn’t come, he looks around and sees his father fighting the dragon before it flees. He stares at his father’s furious face and then jumps when the pillar collapses, a fire brazen atop it now rolling down into town and further damaging homes. He winces with every thud the metal makes and feels the blood drain from his face as with this sudden distraction, the dragons are able to take their prey and flee.
Turning slowly, he looks at his father, anger clear on his face.
“Ah, dad, I-I’m sorry. I-I was chasing a N-Night Fury and -well I caught it by the way, which is great- but a dragon heard me a-and I-” He began mumbling, talking faster with each syllable, trying to force the excuse out, guilt gnawing at him.
“Enough! You just cost us a weeks worth of food! Possibly more, Izuku!” His father yells in frustration.
“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen,” Izuku apologizes, head down in shame.
“You never mean for it to happen, but each time it does! When will you listen to me? When I say to stay out of the way, I mean stay out of the way!” His father says in exasperation.
“I have an entire village to feed and protect and I can’t do that with you being thoughtless! How many times must I save you for you to understand this?” His sighs and rubs his face. People have begun to walk towards and watch their dispute
“I just want to help. I can do more than helping Aizawa in the armory! I caught a Night Fury, just over there!” The boy points towards the mountains.
“Argh, not this again,” His father huffs.
“It’s true! If you just follow me, I’ll show you where it landed, father, I’m not making this up!” Izuku pleads.
“No, I’m not going on this chase with you. Just,” His father looks at him, tired and disappointed, “Enough. Listen to me next time and _stay_ in the house.”
Izuku balls up his hands into fists, furrows his brows in frustration and runs towards their home, which was now burnt but no longer on fire. He pushes past people, ignoring their looks, ignoring his childhood friend (though they are no longer) making a snide remark. He runs into his room and collapses on the bed and punches his pillow in frustration. Taking a few deep breathes, he thinks about what to do.
After a moment of pondering, he quickly stands up once more, grabs his notebook and pencil and then runs out the backdoor, making sure no one watches him run into the forest.
2. Chapter 2
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> I decided to write the second chapter today as well because I was feeling creative! Hope you enjoy this chapter! I again apologize for any grammatical and/or spelling errors I make. Also, I apologize for my shitty writing haha! Enjoy!!! Kudos and feedback are appreciated!
_A large portion of the village gather around a table, Yagi being at the center, pointing at a map with many marks on it._
“ _Winter is almost upon us, we have time for one more voyage before the frost sets in,” He tells the people around him, pointing to an unmarked area on the map._
“ _One more search,” He continues, eyes the tired people staring at him. “We will travel here, scout the area and return home once we know the nest isn’t there.”_
_The Vikings mumble in disagreement, not wanting to go on yet another fruitless search. For decades they have searched for the dragon’s nest and for decades they have failed to find it. They know it is in the smoggy waters, but with the fog being so thick, it feels like they’re just blindly searching._
“ _We’ve had many ships that have yet to come back,” one of the Vikings comments, sharing his discomfort._ |
d3e84dd780e240b19788877beaf7436e | ['f7c075efb59141cab9435fc57561cecc'] | Finally racking up the courage, Kaede gently pulled the accessory from its place amidst the box. Slowly, she slipped it on her ring finger, smile growing as it snugly cuddled up with her skin.
Her eyes suddenly felt warm, heat pricking at the back of her corneas profusely. No, she wouldn't cry. But she would allow the now forming wetness to remain perched above her lashes, giving her lavender hues a shimmering effect. She was afraid to shift her gaze lest her tears get the better of her.
But in the end she did just that, allowing one single drop of waterworks to display itself down her cheek. “I love it,” Kaede felt her voice hitch, curling the box up and reaching to embrace Saihara once more. His hand rested reassuringly on her back, whispering softly against the side of her head.
“I'm glad.”
The two remained in their warm embrace before Kaede slightly pulled away, realizing they had been standing in the same spot for some time now. Reaching a hand to her significant other, Kaede smiled as their fingers intertwined like clockwork.
“Coffee first?” Saihara suggested.
Kaede winced, smiling sheepishly, “I'm not sure, my track record with coffee hasn't been the best.”
Saihara chuckled earnestly, leading the twosome away from the center of town and towards the kitty corner of an intersection, “Second time's the charm, right?”
“Sounds like something Momota-kun would say.”
“I'd be lying if I said he wasn't rubbing off on me.”
Kaede chuckled breezily, “If you were lying to me I’d say you’ve spent too much time with Ouma-kun.”
Saihara paled, features twisting in uncertainty, “Not by choice, mind you.”
The two shared a laugh, both fluttered and perfectly matched. It was as if they belonged with each other. Anyone else would probably barf at that sentiment, but Kaede appreciated their wholesome relationship tenfold.
As the pair made it to one of the several coffee shops in town, Saihara ordered for the two while Kaede seated herself. Once he returned with their drinks, the two settled into a comfortable silence as the world went on around them. Kaede swirled her straw with her tongue, taking short sips as to savor her iced coffee. Saihara took his time with has as well, but more so because it was too hot to fully drink.
A ping caused the black-haired boy to turn to his phone. With a swipe of his finger, Kaede watched her boyfriend flip through some things with a content expression. He then stuffed his phone back in his pocket, turning to face the blonde.
“Important?” Kaede pressed curiously.
Saihara shook his head, “Just work.”
“You’ve been a busy bee lately, any interesting cases come up?”
“Mmm… nothing like what you’re thinking of. Kirigiri-senpai’s been keeping me close to a few, though.”
Kaede beamed, stirring her drink with her straw, “That’s great! See, she knows how especially good at your job you are!” Saihara blushed. It had been two years to the day since they’ve been dating - a little over three in total - and Saihara still got flustered around her. Admittedly, it was adorable.
“How is Kirigiri-san? I’d love to stop by the office and see her sometime!” Despite their senior in mention being much less social and extroverted than herself, Kaede still enjoyed her times with Kirigiri. The blonde tended to poke and prod her upperclassman for any interesting cases she’d had. She was a professional, starting her career in the field at a young age. Her father, the principal of a prestigious highschool, was also a big deal. It was exceptional Saihara could be working under her, and also proved his own capabilities that Kirigiri had recognized.
Pressing his warm cup against his palms, Saihara chuckled softly, “She’s as serious as ever when it comes to her job.”
“You know,” Kaede bounced in her seat, a lightbulb going off in her head, “you’ve worked with her, we’ve known her for over two years and have yet to double date!”
Saihara seemed taken aback by the suggestion, leaning back into the seat of his chair. “Double date?”
“Sure! She and Naegi-kun have been together for just as long, and they’re both such a treat to be around! I’d love to see them smiling together!”
Although most likely unconvinced, Saihara humored his girlfriend with a chastened agreement, “I’ll see what I can do.” Maybe they could visit the college’s’ art center and she could play something for them. The theater director knew her personally from all her visits, Kaede was sure she’d be allowed to host a small concert. Her eyes glistened as her mind whirled to life. What would she play for them? Maurice Ravel’s “Sonatine”? Chopin's "Military Polonaise"? Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue”?
The day could go by with Kaede simply surmising a playlist for a concert that may never happen. Saihara was well aware how easily the pianist could lose her train of thought - especially when it came to her hobbies - so he piped up rather quickly. “So what’s on today’s agenda, Ms. Planner?”
Pressing a finger to her cheek, Kaede thought about it for a moment, “I was thinking we could go walk around a bit? Then a late, cheap, greasy lunch at some diner. Then go back to your place and watch a movie or two? We can grab snacks on the way and pig out!”
Saihara smiled, clearly enjoying his girlfriend’s enthusiasm, “Sounds like a plan.”
Kaede squeezed the last of her coffee amidst the ice cubes before stepping out of her seat and throwing her cup away. Saihara followed, coffee cup still in hand. Using his free hand, he opened the door for Kaede. Once they stepped back out, Kaede quickly latched her arms around Saihara’s free one, keeping close as they headed further into town. | 7f38b009401e4ece8e6bb6a3489cf71d | ['f7c075efb59141cab9435fc57561cecc'] | Amami blinked, index finger jutting towards the scoreboard on the monitor, “But we still have a few more sets left.”
The blonde waved her hand dismissively as she shimmied her way through the legs of her friends and out of the lane, “Roll for me! It’s not like I’m winning anyway.”
Momota cracked a smile, “I mean you’re not wrong. Maybe you should stick to the arts, huh?” He flinched as Harukawa landed a flat palm to his bare, jacketless arm. Kaede laughed in the presence of her roommate and her boyfriend before taking her leave. She discarded her shoes at the counter, feeling the colorfully patterned carpet beneath her casual shoes.
Once she was set, Kaede power walked towards the spazztic lights of the games. Her eyes continued to dart about, captivated by one game after another. She finally stopped in front of a large machine sprinkled with colorfully flashing lights. The counter in front of her was smoothly polished and long. Gliding her hand across the surface, Kaede mentally spoke out each of the 52 white keys before her. It was no coincidence the only piano-based game in the arcade had immediately struck her fancy.
“Why am I not surprised Bakamatsu found that one so quick?” Kaede turned to face Iruma, who’s closed fist made its way forward. Iruma clasped Kaede’s wrist with her free hand and poured a few tokens into her grip. “On the house for the horny piano lover~”
Kaede did her best to appreciate the action Iruma displayed rather than the comments accompanied. She had gotten well used to Iruma’s foul mouth and tendencies through the latter years of highschool, but even then those comments sometimes got the best of the pianist.
After the strawberry blonde departed back to work, Kaede returned her attention to the game. From what she could tell, the monitor above the piano keys would show which keys to hit and for how long, similar to the online Synthesia program. The songs ranged in complexity and therefore how many tickets could be won. Fiddling with the only buttons available, Kaede flipped through song after song. She wasn’t expecting any of her favorites, as what arcade game would have classical music available?
So imagine her surprise when she found Franz Liszt's “La Campanella” among some of the more challenging choices.
Cracking her knuckles, Kaede found her peace amidst the racket of games. When she played, the world tended to dissolve into an abstract nothing. This was no different despite the difference in piano and setting. La Campanella was a deliberately virtuosic, show-off piece, something difficult that Kaede had overcome early on in life. While she hadn’t played the piece, let alone any of Liszt’s work in some time, Kaede was able to fluidly move her fingers about as if she had the song and key coordinates ingrained in her DNA.
Some people said she made it look too easy, and watching her do so even using a shoddy arcade game’s keyboard proved dividends to that sentiment.
The world had quieted down, at least it seemed, for Kaede’s performance. The bright keys clinked together into a wonderful melody, Kaede hitting her stride as the pace between black and white keys harshly increased until it sounded as though her aggression had peaked. Nearing the middle of the piece, Kaede’s wrists loosened, hands running a race from one side of the keyboard to the next. Unlike Liszt, Kaede wasn’t one to purposefully show off. She’d play what she felt in her heart, and right now, with all the buzzing and whirring of machines, La Campanella was her heart’s choice.
The piece had no real finish, just a seemingly sporadic twiddle of the fingers all the way through. Yet with Kaede’s final tap of the key, she seemed to come back to reality, wincing at the now noticeable arcade noises. Exhaling a sigh, lavender hues scrolled upwards to survey the screen.
A low whistle and an inconsistent clap caused those lavenders to 180. “Wooooooow, you’re a pro, Akamatsu-chan!”
Ouma stood before her, hands returning to his sweater pockets. When Kaede remained silent, Ouma’s head tilted ever so slightly, lips pursing in confusion.
“What’s the matter?” he prodded before a lightbulb seemed to go off in his head, “Ohhhhhh, I get it! Sorry, Akamatsu-chan. I’m sure you were expecting your beloved Saihara-chan.”
This rild the blonde out of her stupor, “A-ah! I wasn’t… it’s not like that!”
“Hmmmmm?~”
“I guess I’m just surprised it’s you of all people. Figured you’d want to mess with Momota-kun some more.”
Ouma yawned, a hand reaching up to rub his eye, “Poor Momota-chan deserves a break, nishishishi~”
Kaede was close to calling him out, knowing full well he’d strike again before the night was over.
“But really, Akamatsu-chan! Now I can see why people sing your praises when it comes to the piano!” Was he lying? “Franz Liszt is no joke.”
Kaede was baffled, attempting to find her words amidst a flurry of others, “You… you know Franz Liszt?”
“Duh, I’m no idiot Akamatsu-chan! Who says someone like me can’t enjoy a little classical music now and then?”
“I guess that’s true…”
Ouma slid past Kaede, settling next to her. He lowered himself just a tad, hands reaching for a slew of orange paper. “Talk about a lot of tickets! My beloved Akamatsu-chan is going to get me that giant Gudetama plushie!” Before she could object, Ouma pocketed the tickets she had earned from her performance. It wasn’t like she did it specifically for the tickets, but Ouma reaping her rewards wasn’t something she was very condoning of.
“So why did you stop bowling, Ouma-kun?” Kaede wondered aloud. The boy in question gazed up at her as he organized his tickets, purple eyes widening excitedly. |
684a2a62885647d3af50576896633f2c | ['f7ceb366e0ea4009b986391da8c5fa7e'] | “You know why Witchling.” Trying to regain his composure, he added, “And don’t change the subject. What’s going on?”
She began walking towards him, slowly, her smile widening. He forced himself to stay still. But when she stopped inches from him and ran an iron nail down his chest…her other hand taking hold of his pants…
“I want to change the subject Princeling. And besides, you brought it up.”
He let out a low laugh as he grabbed her braid, wrapping it around his hand. He pulled, bringing her head back and exposing her neck. Manon gasped when he dipped his head and kissed her ear, biting down softly on her earlobe. He whispered “I believe you brought it up. When you couldn’t stop looking at me earlier tonight.”
Dorian kissed his way down her neck, lingering at her collarbone. He felt her pulse speed up, her breathing catching up to his own. With his free hand, he started to pull her closer but she stopped him. He released her hair and looked into her eyes. They were dark and glassy and fiery and it took everything in him not to pick her up and…
“Do you trust me Princeling?”
He managed to keep himself from blurting out a Yes! But she knew he trusted her. She wasn’t asking about that so much as she was asking if he was willing to relinquish some control. _As if I have any left to give when I’m with her_ , he thought. _I can barely stop myself from ripping our clothes off and fucking her against this tree_.
“Dorian. Do you trust me?”
Gods, the way she said his name…her accent drove him crazy. “Of course.”
Holding his gaze, she slowly knelt and began to undo his pants. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but before he could speak, her mouth was on him.
His head dropped back as he laced his fingers in her hair. “Gods Manon!” It was all he could say. He was utterly lost in the sensation of her mouth, her tongue. One of her hands closed around him and stroked, the other hand reached behind and pulled him closer to her. There was nothing but her, her name between his panted breaths, her answering moans.
She shifted to take him more completely in her mouth and he gasped, “Fuck…” He wasn’t going to last long like this. One hand was clenched in her hair and he had the other propping himself on the tree. He was practically begging himself to hold on, make this last. When he felt her teeth gently drag along his shaft, he almost lost it completely. “Manon…stop…”
Releasing him immediately, she stood. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” he growled. “I want more.”
They both fumbled to get her pants and boots off. When she was free of them, Dorian lifted her and she straddled him. Turning and bracing her against the tree, he positioned her so she hovered just above him, just close enough to tease. She squirmed, trying to push herself down onto him but he held her back, savoring everything about this moment. “I want this. I want you,” he breathed.
“Then what are you waiting for,” she purred.
He let go of his hold on Manon, just enough so that she slid slowly onto him. Her head rolled back and she bit her lip, moaning. He may have stopped breathing then. She was so beautiful and felt so damned good… He wanted to tell her this but he couldn’t think of any words that could do her justice. He couldn’t think…
“Dorian…,” she breathed.
_That_ brought him back. He kissed her and began moving in and out of her slowly, so slowly, trying to relish each second, every touch, the way she moved against him… Manon moaned with each exquisite thrust. She turned away from his lips to bite down on his shoulder, trying to keep her sounds from carrying too far. Her arms so tight around him, her hands grasping at his hair. Somehow he managed to say “Don’t hold back… I have us shielded.”
She cried out loudly with his next thrust. “More Dorian… Please.” He took a step back and shifted her hips so she joined him at a different angle, her back still pressed against the tree. She gasped as he thrust into her again, and again. Faster, matching the rush of her breath, the cadence of his name coming from her mouth.
When Dorian felt her legs tense around his waist, her nails dig into his arms, her breath catch, he never wanted the moment to end. When she came, tightening around him, he lost any shred of control he had and let himself go too.
Manon collapsed on him, still trembling from her orgasm. Dorian was shaking too and turned to lean against the tree. He ended up just sliding down it, landing unceremoniously on his ass. He didn’t care. He still couldn’t think straight. Her arms and legs were wrapped around him. That’s all that mattered. Between breaths he said, “That was…supposed to take…the edge off.”
Manon replied, “I think you and I are only sharpening the edge.” Her breath in his ear sent a shiver through his core. He must be one hell of an actor for her to think he exercised any control when it came to her. He laughed at the thought and felt her stiffen. “That was not a joke,” she said, moving to get off of him. | 98355ea825334b50abfe521267b15d6f | ['f7ceb366e0ea4009b986391da8c5fa7e'] | Anonymous asked: Prompt idea but what if Dorian, because he loves to be self sacrificial, decides to forge the lock on his own so that Aelin has the power to beat Maeve with her fire.
*****
Following Erawan’s Ironteeth legion north in his wyvern form was risky, but it was the fastest way he could get to Terrasen. Even so, he’d fallen so far behind, he estimated them to be days ahead.
When they’d set out from Morath, the force of witches and wyverns spread out in front of him was never-ending. He couldn’t see past them to clear skies.
What awaited them in Orynth? Death and destruction? Or had Manon summoned the Crochans to help Aedion in his defense of the kingdom?
A selfish part of him hoped she hadn’t. If she was still trying to gather the witches to her, that meant she wasn’t yet in the thick of battle. And wouldn’t be facing this hellish force flying ahead of him.
Dorian’s plan was to go to Orynth, hoping to find his friends, hoping they’d found a way around this curse. After being in Maeve’s head and stealing some of her power, he sensed she was still alive. And when she set out for Terrasen, probably with Erawan and the remainder of his armies, he sensed that too.
He should have ended her. Should have tried to kill Erawan, Kaltain’s warnings be damned. Then none of this would be happening.
The wyrdkeys pulsed in his pocket, sending a sickly tempting call to him. And so, his plan changed.
He didn’t need to wait until he reached Terrasen to use them and close the gate. If he did it now, perhaps he could remove Erawan from the equation. That still left the valg king’s armies and Maeve… But he’d just have to have faith in his friends that they could stop her.
Dorian spotted a small opening in the dense forest and landed, switching back to his human form. The place was familiar but he didn’t think he’d ever been to this part of Oakwald before. Nothing looked familiar. He felt it. And when he tried to delve deeper into that feeling, it pulled away. Like trying to remember a dream after waking up.
He’d seen the ruins of a temple from overhead, looking as if it had been pushed into a deep ravine. Who it had belonged to, he didn’t know. It didn’t really matter, he mused. If the ritual worked, there would be no gods left in this world who needed temples.
The thought made him wonder about the witch’s chosen goddess. Would she disappear with the others? What would that do to the clans? To Manon? She’d never spoken in detail of their religion, but he’d heard her invoke the Three-Faced Goddess.
That feeling of recognition washed over him again, prickling his skin like a chilled breeze. Turning around in a circle, he examined every tree, every rise and outcropping. None of it sparked a memory.
Dorian realized he was stalling.
With a shaky breath, he cursed his cowardice and pulled the three keys from his pocket. Manon had never told him the specifics of the ritual that she’d learned from Elena in the witch mirror. But he’d gathered enough from what Kaltain had told him and what he’d seen in Morath.
The wielder became one with the keys, thus becoming the door. The wyrdmarks opened it. What was to come after was vague, and he hoped for some guidance once he went through, perhaps from Elena or the gods themselves.
He pulled his blade free. Sorrel’s gift to him for besting her in their training. Again, that ripple of recollection passed over him, tugging at his consciousness.
“Enough,” he chided himself. “It doesn’t matter.”
With a quick slash of the knife, he cut an opening in his forearm and put the wyrdkeys inside.
His magic pushed against it, wanting to expel the foul, evil presence from his body. Fighting it back, he willed the wound to heal shut.
Blood still dripped from his arm and he used it to trace the wyrdmarks for _OPEN_ on the ground. The instant he completed the final mark, the keys burst to life and he was dragged into an abyss of searing pain.
It might have been seconds, or minutes, or days before he opened his eyes. Time was meaningless in such agony. And yet, he knew he didn’t have much of it.
There was a hard pull on his magic, so Dorian let it go. The burning subsided briefly and he watched a golden haze begin to take shape before him. As it used his magic, Dorian heard someone approach. Expecting Elena or maybe even Gavin, he was shocked when his father came forward out of the gray fog.
Feeling his sword hang heavily from his belt, Dorian assumed Damaris had summoned the man somehow. As if knowing he needed to see him one last time before he died.
“Did you recognize the place where you left your body?” his father asked.
“No,” Dorian said, gritting his teeth.
“Let me show you.”
Before he could do anything, his father stepped close and placed a hand on Dorian’s head.
In a flash, the pain, the fog, the lock… Everything was gone, replaced with the clearing he’d been in. But his solitary body was not there.
A group of witches and men filled the area, watching each other suspiciously. Dorian saw his father go into a small caravan with the Blackbeak matron. He was spun around to come face to face with himself. The collar around this person’s neck was glinting in the sunlight and Dorian thought he might be sick.
“Hello, princeling.”
Dorian spun again, this time of his own accord. Manon walked forward, a deathly wicked grin on her beautiful face. But she didn’t see him. She looked only at the collared man. |
a8479253d3f24c39bcfb4aadcbc30539 | ['f7d0de682c68458fbe5a5035dfd22138'] |
She's a work in progress
**Author's Note:**
> This is a work in progress piece. Will be updated every so often so please check back or bookmark for updates. :>
It wasn’t uncommon for storms to hit the more tropical regions of Runeterra, Ionia being no different- its magic creating arid deserts and lush rainforests mere minutes away from each other among other strange phenomena. However, the storms had been slowly getting worse, the rain was heavier and settled onto the leaves of the towering trees until pools built up on them, only draining to the floor once the weight became too much for it to bear. Tiny floating lights illuminated the raindrops as they fell, occasionally being smothered by the water only for another to take its place soon after. They acted as a trail for the creatures that lived there, to safety among the plants as to avoid illness or those that hunted in the chaos of the weather fluxes. One such creature seemed to be out of her luck, her tails heavy with rainwater and her normally neat braid in tatters down her back. Her hand trailed the bark of the trees, leaving small scratch marks in the bark as she went, her steps slow, almost calculated as her eyes drifted into the foliage ahead. A lone umbrella bush soon became her point of interest, large enough for her to fit under one of the leaves comfortably and angled that the water dripped onto the forest floor- no chance of a cave in. Perfect. She knelt and crawled her way under, the cold beginning to pierce her skin now she was finally in the dry, prompting her to shudder, shaking her tails to free them of some of the water weight. With a hand she wiped the soaked strands of hair off her face, leaning against a tree root the leaf gave shelter to, the only sounds being her breathing and the soft rainfall above. The rain had begun suddenly, leaving her stranded in the forest until it gave way as to not fall prey to the many predators that lurked. Her situation was not ideal- her clothes, fur and hair were soaked and the chill that it brought seemed to only worsen the more she sat, alas her eyes were giving way and her concentration was waning. She required sleep and it would find her before she could possibly evade it. Her only real option was to try and curl up, to seek some rest before she must move again. Thus, she lay herself down, curling her wet tails around her as her eyes closed, left only to darkness.
Until the tiny lights flickering in her eyes began their ritual.
**“You’d better pray you don’t wake”**
_“Perhaps a creature will snatch you in the night”_
“Maybe the locals enjoy hunting fox.”
She squeezed her eyes tighter, holding herself close as the taunting persisted, her eyes filling with tears that would accompany her until sleep took its hold on her consciousness, leaving the voices to plague her dreams.
A drop of mildew awoke the girl, landing on her nose as it dripped off the point of the leaf. It took her a moment to grasp where she was- without the harsh rain the forest was quite beautiful.
Flowers of all colours reflecting sunlight like stained glass onto the browns and greys of the forest floor and walls, creating a mosaic of beauty for one to venture through. Tiny insects buzzed and fluttered throughout, and birds called and sang up into the canopy, their songs carrying a mixture of messages, stories and music that they’d retained from traveler’s past. Pulling herself up off the floor, she brushed the leaves and twigs off her clothing and out of her hair, tearing at her braid to untangle it, just choosing to leave her hair down for the moment instead of fighting to tie it back once more. As she left her temporary home, she searched for her scratch marks, following them back, gazing at her surroundings as she did- while some colours still seemed dull to her eyes, there were vibrant reds, oranges, yellows and purples painted across her world- the sky captivated her most as it seemed to sway like grass in the wind only in shades of purples and greys rather than green with soft pink clouds like mist scattering through the blades.
Her trail soon leads her to the mouth of the forest, tapering off into more normal trees and a slim stone path to one of the central villages. She came to a stop as it faded into view, tracing the outline with her eyes before looking down, clenching her teeth.
**“You’re not wanted there.”**
_“Just turn back and get lost again.”_
“They’ll put you in your place if you even try.”
With a sharp inhale, she set forth for the village, stopping just short of the wall to reveal a small storage compartment where a hooded cloak was stored. She whisked it over her form and replace the rock, pulling it tight to her upper form and letting it flow after her hips to hide her tails, hooding herself and pulling her hair forward and out the front, heading inside as she did. Perhaps it was guilt or loneliness that brought her back, but that didn’t seem to matter in the end as she stood in the town center, watching the people calmly going about their business- delivering groceries to friends and family, children excitedly playing with a ball out in the street on a small ‘pitch’ they’d drawn in chalk, lovers entwined in each other’s arms. The girl caught herself copying the action with her own arms around herself before withdrawing, making a fist and moving on. | 5f59ac4b6be1400ebaa13767ba982310 | ['f7d0de682c68458fbe5a5035dfd22138'] | The cottage was as described- small yet homely, more so with the golden hues of the setting sun streaming through the little cross hatched windows, tearing through the blinds like a knife through butter and streaking into the back room. As the lock clicked, Ahri’s ears twitch under the hood as she turned to Tylla, her eyes glowing a soft pink, fading the other’s to the same shade. She dropped her cloak, revealing her tails and ears fully as the teal-haired woman stared, “Wow, you really been hiding this under that raggy cloak? It’s beautiful.” Her words were airy, like she were sleep talking. She continued to mumble compliments as the fox approached, getting close enough to the other’s face that their lips were almost touching, inhaling softly as her form glowed a faint teal. Tylla’s essence began flowing into Ahri- memories, thoughts, feelings, dreams, overwhelming her as she could only pick out a few.
The girl must have been around 13 as she watched her brother in handcuffs, disappear out of her life. The grief and anger flooding like an ocean during a storm and mixing with confusion into a soup of agony.
Working in the mines- toxic fumes and painful hauls, saving up every tiny piece of gold she gained from the work in a fund titled ‘bail’. Determination tasted like spices, tantalizing yet special. It faded quickly into a more salty emotion as the fund changed name- funeral.
While her fill had been satisfied for the moment, she decided to take just a little more, just to get her by, she reasoned. But once the sickly sweet taste hit her throat, when the images of Tylla’s lips pressed against another womans flooded her mind, Ahri lurched back, breaking the connection and dropping the Zaunite to the floor as she retched, tearing flooding her eyes as her legs gave way. Kneeling on the floor, her body protested the emotion, her sobbing growing into full on yowls as the flavor slowly left her taste buds.
**“Hehe, I guess you really aren’t over him.”**
_“Looks like little foxy isn’t ready to move on~”_
**_“Why…”_ **
A new voice joined her choir as she lay down, curling into herself as her screams died down to gentle cries once more, the gentle yet firm accent of a mainlander. The confidence lost but clearly recognizable Zaun accent.
**_“I thought you were an angel...”_ **
It took merely an hour for Ahri’s agony to slowly lull her into a painful slumber, one sentence stuck in her mind and tormenting her even in her deepest of sleep.
**_“But you’re nothing but a demon.”_ ** |
84f79e79e2b14e94a5c45a3f98a31333 | ['f811c89c475b4971801c6b1eec6477c3'] | nightmare comfort
**Author's Note:**
> lol im such trash for this ship and it's sad that this poor little piece of shit is going out for everybody to see sksksk
**_john_ **
john woke with a jolt, his eyes wide and darting around to take in every inch of his room as his mouth parted to let out his jagged breathing. there was nothing there, yet he still felt anxious and scared.
his hands covered his face as he tried to recollect himself so he could go back to bed, but in the end he just ended up sliding out of bed and wrapping his blanket around him as he tip-toed out of the room and into the hall. it was dark, but he didn't want to disturb anybody, so he left the lights off as he slowly crept across the hall to the door at the other end, stopping to peek at the opening at the bottom of the door to see if there was any light signaling the other was awake.
there was nothing.
he debated going back to his own room, but ultimately pussied out and let one of his hands rest on the knob, sitting there for another minute or so as he argued with himself before finally opening the door as slowly and quietly as he could, the door squeaking softly as it opened. the door came to a halt as it softly thudded against the white wall behind, making him jump slightly before creeping into the room, which was slightly more lit than the rest of the house.
his bare feet padded across the carpet softly and he felt himself blushing of embarrassment as he softly shook the sleeping figure. a soft groan emerged from their mouth as they sat up to fully wake up and see who it was.
"john?" was groggily asked and he nearly jumped out of his skin, his anxiety still bad from the nightmare he had just a few minutes before.
"can- can i sleep with you, ry? i had a nightmare.." he mumbled, stumbling over his words , and the older sighed softly, though it wasn't an annoyed sigh, and opened his arms so he could hug him tightly once he was in the bed.
"of course, j.." ryan murmured softly as the smaller boy carefully climbed into bed with him, almost bumping heads from not being able to see very well, although it wasn't pitch black.
ryan hummed lowly as he scooted towards the wall so john could lay down beside him, his arms wrapping around his waist softly as he brought the young boy closer to his chest so his chin was resting on his shoulder. "do you think you'll be able to sleep, or am i staying up with you?" he asked, his thumbs rubbing circles on the other's sides lightly.
"can you stay up with me for a bit..?" the question was more pleading than john had hoped, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep and ryan never seemed to mind.
ryan smiled softly and let his fingers drift to the end of the other boy's shirt, messing with it as he talked to him, "i'll stay up with you, but you gotta get some sleep too, okay?" john almost cut him off before he finished his sentence, "and i know that you don't want to go back to sleep, but i don't want you to be tired all day." he said, his voice never going over a whisper.
john huffed, hands hands resting on the older male's, his fingers slipping between the other's so they were holding hands instead. "i don't deserve you.." he murmured softly, not wanting the other to hear him, though he knew that he would anyways.
"john." ryan's voice was firm and threatening the conversations they've had many times before over those four words. his grip tightened protectively and he narrowed his eyes at the younger, his face burying into his neck so he wouldn't start a stupid argument about it. instead of deciding to worsen the state his boyfriend was already in, he decide to change the direction of their conversation.
"i love you.." he said, his voice softer than the it was the previous times, and john blushed lightly.
"love you too, ry." john said softly, turn his body so he was facing his boyfriend instead. he could feel his anxiety slowly going away as he took in the older boy's facial features and he grinned, his hands sneakily making their way into the boy's dark brown locks.
ryan giggled softly and pulled the boy's hands out of his hand, then wrapped his arms around his waist so he could get more comfortable. "are you ready to go back to bed?" he asked, pressing a small kiss to his head as small hands ran over his chest.
"yeah.." john said softly and stole a small kiss from his boyfriend before closing his eyes.
everything seemed so calm and peaceful now. | d25659f048214e75b24911051e0fb41b | ['f811c89c475b4971801c6b1eec6477c3'] |
1. The Idea
**_Ryan_ **
It was after a recording with John, Jiggly, Mini, and Scotty, everybody but Ryan and John leaving the call as they continued to talk. They talked about what was happening in their lives, how their day was, and what games they could play with each other or some of their other friends. Ryan let John talk most of the time, loving how his tone changed when he talked about what he liked and he could almost feel his smile and sparkling eyes through the screen while he put in his two cents every now and again.
Suddenly John gasped, which made Ryan practically jump out of his skin and he laughed at Ryan's surprised squeak. "Oh my god, you should've heard yourself!" He laughed and Ryan blushed from embarrassment, covering his face and groaning.
"John!!" Ryan whined as the teasing pursued, only stopping once John got tired of it.
A small squeak indicated that John was leaning forward in his chair as he spoke, "Want to hear my idea?" His mouth was obviously very close to his mic and Ryan laughed nervously, knowing that John's ideas weren't always the best.
"Uhh, sure." He stopped giggling and propped his head up with his hands so that he could focus better.
"How about you.." Ryan's eyebrows raised at this, "Suck my dick." Laughter flooded through John's mic, getting slightly quieter as John leaned back in his chair with another squeak, until there was a loud crash with John groaning from (most likely) the floor.
It was Ryan's turn to laugh now and he could barely contain himself so he could speak, "D-Did you.. Did you fall out of your chair?" He could barely breathe at this point and soft, raspy, wheezes were emerging from his mouth as he tried to calm himself down.
He could barely register when John wheezed out a 'yes' and when he did, they both were thrown into another fit of laughter. "It's not my fault that my chair is a fucking asshole." John's voice grew louder as he leaned closer to the mic before (Ryan was guessing by the noises he was hearing) promptly sitting back down in his chair. "No, but you should stay with me for a bit." John murmured softly with a hopeful tone.
Ryan frowned and shook his head, even though John couldn't see him, "Absolutely not, John." He refused.
John sighed softly, "Please?" His voice was calm and low, which was pretty normal when they were talking one on one, but Ryan knew that he was trying to get him to give in.
"No, John." Ryan continued to refuse.
"Ohm." John said firmly and Ryan shivered at his tone, huffing softly at the younger.
"John." Ryan said just as firmly, his frown growing.
John was silent for a couple seconds before talking again, "Please?"
Ryan crossed his arms. "No."
"Ryan, please.." Ryan visibly shivered, blush covering his cheeks as his eyes widened. He could practically hear John smiling behind his computer, that little bitch.
"F-Fine.." He muttered, though not regretting it as much as he thought he would.
"Awesome, thanks." John's grin was basically smacking him in the face through the screen at this point and he wasn't having any of it.
"Yeah, Yeah.." Ryan murmured, "Just text me when so I can go pack up."
Both of them logged off for the night.
2. A Talk
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> i apologise for this being the chapter you were waiting for because it's only a filler. ;;v;;
>
> (this update is literally just moving this to the chapter summary instead of the chapter notes)
**_John_ **
It was rather early in the afternoon when John got on his computer, deciding to message his friend Jaren, or 'Smii7y' as he's more well-known, instead of Ryan and looked through his social media while he waited for a response. He was debating on messaging Ryan as he waited, but opted out of it, wanting to talk to Jaren first so he could get reassurance on his plan.
He sighed softly as a small 'ding' went off in his ears, notifying him of a message, which he was hoping was from Jaren. Luckily for him, it was.
**_milk boy_ **
_you needed help with something?_
John rolled his eyes.
**_vape king_ **
_duh you retard_
_i need some advice_
_from me??_
_duh_
_why do you think i messaged you_
_to ask me about something._
_you even said._
_smitty i swear to god_
_just_
_help me_
_call me._
_actually,,_
_ill call you._
John rolled his eyes as the call icon popped up, inviting him to press it, which he did, and he was greeted by Jaren's face. "What do you need help with, brother?" The younger boy asked, his elbows on the desk as his hands rested under his chin.
"I invited Ohm to come stay with me for a week??" John said, voicing his stress in his tone, and Jaren burst out laughing, which made John's cheeks tint red. "It's not funny!!" John whined, which made Jaren laugh louder until he was in a coughing fit.
"Fuck, bro.." Jaren muttered with a grin on his face as he finished coughing and John glared at him, but it didn't phase him in the slightest. "What do you need my help with then?" The Canadian asked, noticing the anxious habits his friend was beginning to do, but didn't mention it.
"I don't know, man.." John's eyes stuck to his keyboard, "I'm just feeling anxious about it." He murmured, fidgeting his hands as he tried to calm his nerves. He sighed lightly as he pressed his forehead again his desk, his hand moving to his hair and burying themselves in the blond mess.
Jaren frowned slightly, "I'm sure everything's gonna be fine, John." He honestly didn't know what to say. |
3b2d4a69909e44c0a64bf5d255b20620 | ['f82786eb68bb452d9c67c2e447453dd4'] | But, as Keith went to reply, his phone was swiftly knocked out of his hands and onto the ground as a soccer ball landed roughly in his lap. He felt a noise burst from his lips, and looked around for where the ball came from.
A tall boy who looked around Keith’s age pulled himself over the small wooden fence that separated the two yards and started to jog over. Keith watched with wide eyes as the boy spoke quickly, far too fast for Keith to even attempt to read his lips.
He was obviously a McClain kid, as he sported the same deep caramel skin and wide smile as the rest of them. He was right in front of Keith and bent down to pick up his ball. The boy’s brows were furrowed.
Keith tried to sign that he didn’t understand him, and the boy’s eyes widened, mouth poised in a small “o”.
He tried to talk back to Keith and realized that he was going too fast. He pulled a cellphone out of his pocket and began to type something, and then showed the screen to Keith.
“ _Hi, I’m Lance_ ,” the little message said. He smiled at Keith and the smaller boy felt his face heat up. Lance began typing again. “ _My mom told me about the neighbors. You’re Keith, right?”_
Keith nodded and looked down. Lance followed his gaze and grabbed the boy’s fallen phone so he could type too.
“ _Do you like to play soccer?_ ”
Keith pointed at the ball while showing Lance the phone screen and the other boy grinned proudly. He started to type quickly and practically threw his phone into Keith’s hands
“ _I love soccer! Do you want to come over and watch me play? My cousin’s and I are having a game right now_ ,” Lance’s message said. He was waiting for Keith to respond when his head snapped towards the fence. Keith looked over too to see a small girl yelling and waving her hands over her head. Lance threw the ball at her and then turned back to Keith.
“So?” Keith read his lips. He smiled and nodded his head, and he let Lance push him over to the other lawn.
**_Keith: I’m at the neighbor’s_ **
**_Shiro: Did something happen? Are you okay?_ **
**_Keith: I got invited to watch soccer_ **
**_Shiro: okay. Just be careful, I’ll be home soon_ **
Keith smiled up at Lance as the other boy sat him in a shady spot near the porch and gave him a thumbs-up.
Keith was thirteen when he got a new friend. | e69c034da8be4d75a5abb2410fdba382 | ['f82786eb68bb452d9c67c2e447453dd4'] | "Why do _you_ have a picture of Max and me, of _Chloe_?" he whispered. Nathan whimpered at the sound of the blue haired girl's name. He started to cry again. _God, he was such a fucking wimp._
"I'm so sorry, Warren," he said, attempting to swallow his tears. "I was just trying a new type of photography, and you guys looked so happy...I didn't know you were ever gonna see the photo." His voice wavered, "You probably think I'm some creep now, so, thanks again, but please leave."
Warren didn't move, and Nathan brought his hands up to his eyes and pressed until he saw spots. "Please. Leave," he said through gritted teeth. Warren released the boy's chin, and stepped away. He walked and opened the door, glancing behind him one more time to see Nathan crumpled on the floor, and the injured boy spoke up.
"Please don't tell Victoria or Hayden about this," he said, turning to look at Warren.
Warren nodded, and zipped his lips with his fingers. Nathan let out a shuddering breath and watched as Warren left his room.
2. Two
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Nathan tries to change.
Warren came back to the dorms angry. Again. He'd been in a permanent bad mood since the mishap with Nathan, but today, he exploded. He yelled at Max twice, and finally decided to just leave when Kate spilled her glass of water on his lap.
He stomped down the hallway, a foul expression across his face, and he slammed his door shut. The frame rattled and so did the rack of movies next to it. He paced his room and tried to take deep breaths.
He just got so annoyed today. He was angry and confused, and he just wanted to punch a wall; especially when he thought about Nathan.
He sat on his bed, its frame creaking beneath his weight, and dragged his hands through his messy hair. He should call his friends and apologize for being rude, but he couldn't find the strength to do it. He was embarrassed by the way he had acted, and didn't want to talk to them for a while.
He picked up his shower supplies and decided that a nice, hot rinse would do the trick to calm him down. So, he headed out of his rooms and down to the showers.
He sighed with a small smile on his face when he saw that no one was in there, so he undressed quickly and and got into one of the stalls.
He stood in the hot stream, deciding to stay in there until it ran cold, and trying to clear his mind. Think about nothing until it got cold. The second it did, he turned the shower off, and attempted to towel dry himself. He then redressed, ignoring his slightly damp skin, and wrapped his hand around the curtain.
The door that kept the bathrooms and the rest of the dorm separate busted open, and he froze, peeking through the crack between the wall and the curtain. A hunched over figure in a dirty, red jacket came in, slamming their hands down on the sink as they bent over it. Nathan's arms were shaking, and Warren could tell that it was from anger.
He pulled the curtain back slowly, it squeaking against the rail. He looked toward Nathan, and he glanced up, his gaze meeting Warren's in the mirror. Warren took notice that Nathan's right eye was red and turning a bit purple, his bottom lip was busted open. He looked down at the smaller boy's hands and his heart clenched. His knuckles were busted and bleeding, and he had scratch marks up and down his dirty jacket.
Nathan didn't say anything as Warren merely directed his gaze elsewhere before putting his head down and leaving. The younger boy walked back down the hallway and tried not to think about the wounds on Nathan's face. He didn't want to think about him, or anyone, getting beat up, or laying on the ground, hurt. But, his brain was conjuring up images of Nathan getting into fights, and he sat down on his bed when he got into his room.
He was utterly confused about why Nathan was the only thing he could think about. Yeah, he was still slightly mad at the the older boy for taking that picture of him and his friends without permission, but now, there was a feeling of emptiness with it. He felt the need to keep watch of the other boy. He had noticed that he wasn't exactly a model-student before, but now he was really paying attention. To the way he'd look after one of his countless fights he got into, or how he didn't seem to like who he hung out with.
A knock sounded at his door, and he looked at it. Whoever was on the other side knocked again, getting impatient, and he got up. Warren pulled it open roughly, a scowl on his face.
•••
Nathan watched from the end of the hall as Kate Marsh and Max Caulfield stood in front of Warren's door expectantly. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but after a moment, Warren stepped out of his room and was enveloped in a hug by the two of them.
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. He pretended to be disgusted with their not-so-public display of affection, but he couldn't help the way his stomach clenched up. He secretly wished someone would hold him like that. Anyone. Someone that would hold him just to numb the pain for a little bit. |
2e9178ebf0cc449d9df678dd7f6144a4 | ['f82c5bae75d34b65ab5ea1dc31600ca2'] | > SOOOO… Thoughts? Comments? Rants…? PLEASE, do let me hear from you! It ALWAYS makes my day.
>
> IN THE NEXT CHAPTER: We find out how Magnus met parents Lightwood for the first time. (Spoiler: it didn't end well for Malec.) In present time Alec struggles to deal with another blow from fate.
>
> Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope that you'll join me and the boys (well, let's hope dearly that it's still a plural…!) for that one.
>
> Take care!
4. How to Have and to Hold, Until…
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> Alec struggles to cope with the aftermath of Magnus's surgery. In the flashback his parents find out about Magnus and it leads to a difficult decision.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> It's pretty early, actually. But I decided to update already. Yay? Anyone excited?
>
> Thank you, so much, for all the love and affection you've given this story! As you can imagine, this isn't always the easiest story to type. So your support means A LOT! (HUGS)
>
> Akway, before I get all sappy… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.
/ Their second date went far more smoothly than the first and eventually led to a sixth one. Alec was astonished and touched by how acceptive Magnus was of the snail's pace he needed. After a couple of misread signals the dancer took the hint and didn't show any signs of affection in public, didn't even try to hold his hand. (Alec kept telling himself that he'd be ready, soon, soon, soon…) Alec felt far more frustrated than he had any right to when the carefulness was extended to when they were alone in the older man's home. After months kisses were still all Alec got. On date six Alec decided that it was finally time to move on to the… next step. Which started with introducing Magnus to his home, as small and unimpressive as the dorm he shared with a guy named Jordan was. Especially in comparison to the dancer's own apartment.
Magnus, however, looked around his tiny, military clean room fondly. One corner of Alec's lips twitched. "So… You approve?"
Magnus seemed surprised by his question. "Of course I do. This is yours." The man tilted his head and took a sip of the embarrassingly cheap wine he gave the man upon arrival. (The dancer shivered but had the decency to not spit it back or grimace.) He picked up one of Alec's many schoolbooks. "This… isn't you. I'm sorry, but… You just don't seem like the law-student type."
That… kind of, sort of dampened Alec's mood. He looked away, towards the pile of books on his desk. It was infuriating that a man he'd dated for less than three months understood something his own parents didn't. "It… was my father's idea. He wants me to start working for his company."
Magnus mused for a moment. Obviously catching something. "And what do you want?"
The answer was the same Alec always seemed to have for the big questions. He had absolutely no idea. "Right now? I want a kiss."
Magnus was giving him just that when the room's door was thrown open. Alec's parents stood there, soon accompanied by a panting Jordan. "… sorry … slipped in when I came back…"
That was how Maryse and Robert Lightwood met Magnus Bane for the first time. His hands were under their son's shirt. The bulging in both their pants told what they were hoping to do next. It was so absurdly horrific that it was funny.
Or no, it wasn't. Because the parents were glaring at their son, and Alec felt his heart thundering and breaking in his chest. This… Their judgement, their disgust, their disappointment… They made all the self-hatred he'd wrestled with since he was a child come rushing back. Made the progress he'd made with Jocelyn, and Magnus, crumple to pieces.
"You clearly forgot about the dinner you were supposed to have with us. Among other things." His father shook his head, like trying to convince himself that the sight in front of him wasn't real. "I don't know what this is all about. But you are sending… him out of here right now. Because we're about to have a conversation that's meant for family alone."
Magnus took a protective step closer to him. (It was the first time Alec saw him angry, not that he would've recognized the emotion at the time.) "He's not one of your employees yet, so don't talk to him like he's one. He's your son", the dancer pointed out sharply. "And I won't go anywhere unless he tells me to."
Alec couldn't handle this. Couldn't stand being the toy-rope that was tugged between a dog and its owner. "Magnus…" He felt choked but this time it wasn't the good kind of breathlessness. "Go."
Magnus tensed up and looked at him. For second, just one, it was easy to see that he was hurt. "Are you sure that it's what you want?"
I DON'T KNOW!, Alec's mind screamed. Which wasn't what his mouth growled when the stress and shame sharpened his tongue. "Just leave." Funny. It took only two words to destroy whatever shot at happiness he might've had.
Magnus nodded, his expression unreadable. And did as he'd been told. Every move graceful even in the face of defeat, the dancer walked past his parents, who seemed as smug and relieved as they were furious. Then closed the door softly.
Alec was miserably aware that he just sent away the only person in the room who cared about what he wanted. /
/
It wasn't quite the end of Alec's world. But the news also didn't hurt much less. His head spun hazardously while Dr. Cooper delivered his report. | 7ec91fff65b14ee49ad2e8909e4d2a4a | ['f82c5bae75d34b65ab5ea1dc31600ca2'] | It was a tragedy that the twins would never meet their other grandma. And that Magnus didn’t have his mom there to support him. Maryse was determined to do whatever she could to make up for that. Her first grandchildren and son-in-law deserved all the love in the world.
/
That was how Alec found his mom and husband, caressing Magnus’ bump with happy tears in their eyes. The sight got to him so much that he had to wait for a while before making his presence known. “Hey.” He went on after a kiss of greeting for his beloved. “Are you ready for the double date with Jace and Clary?”
Magnus nodded. Only someone he knew him well noticed how a subtle wiggle of fingers fixed slightly smudged makeup. “Absolutely.” They’d spent far more time with the other couple after the omega collapsed and Alec had his miniature breakdown. “We’re...” The sentence was cut short when the older man received a message. Which was met with a huff. “It’s Jace, asking where we are. Apparently we’re five minutes late. Since when has Mr. Fashionably Late cared about schedules?”
Alec smiled. His parabatai had been increasingly protective of them both lately. “Have you decided where you want to eat? It’s your turn to pick.”
“How do East Village bacon burgers sound?” Magnus’ eyes held mirth and fondness. “Biscuit loves them as much as you do, so I’m sure that she can persuade Jace.”
Maryse chuckled. “Right now, that boy wouldn’t say ‘no’ to anything you three might ask.” She gave them a warm hug. “Have fun. I love you both.”
Despite being already late the pair decided to walk for a few minutes before portaling. They needed a few moments together until the start of the double date. Somewhere along the way Alec kissed Magnus’ cheek. Which the smaller man accepted with a sound of delight. “Not that I’m complaining, but what did I deserve that for?”
Alec shrugged seemingly nonchalantly. “No reason.” How was he supposed to put into words how baffled he was by his amazing family?
About five minutes later Magnus gave him a look. “Alexander, are you... whistling?”
“Maybe.”
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Okay. How adorable is this family? (BEAMS) LOL, and will poor Alec and Magnus EVER have uninterrupted... adult fun again?
>
> AND, most importantly... How was that? Any good at all? PLEASE, do let me hear from you! Every comment, listing and sign of love means the world to me.
>
> IN THE NEXT ONE: The gang celebrates Magnus’ birthday. The birthday boy does his best to enjoy the occasion despite feeling uncomfortable.
>
> NEXT UPDATE COMING THIS FRIDAY.
>
> Until next time! I REALLY hope that I’ll see you all there.
>
> Take care!
13. Happy Birthday, Magnus
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> The gang celebrates Magnus’ birthday. The birthday boy does his best to enjoy the occasion despite feeling uncomfortable.
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> This comes a little late, but Happy Birthday, Alec! (smiles) And guess what? It’s time to continue with this story. Hooray?
>
> THANK YOU, so much, for all your comments, listings and love! You have no idea how much it inspires me that you’re all there. (HUGS) I REALLY hope that you’ll continue to like what’s to come.
>
> Awkay, folks. It’s go-time! I truly hope that you’ll enjoy the chapter.
/ _Much like plenty of other things over the course of his life, Alec overthought his first time with Magnus._
_His boyfriend literally had thousands of former lovers. What new and exciting could he possibly offer? What if he’d turn out to be a disappointment? What if he wouldn’t enjoy... it? What if Magnus didn’t? What if he’d like it too much and mess everything up? Their relationship was important to him and even the thought of endangering it with rushing made his stomach twist into knots._
_Funnily enough, it was the realization that Magnus had similar concerns that helped ease his mind. What they had and their first time mattered a lot to the mage, too. He mattered a lot. Whatever doubts and fears he’d had began to fade. “It’s okay”, he murmured after their second kiss in a manner of minutes, which was fast turning into a third. “I want this.” He’d never wanted anyone like he wanted Magnus and didn’t think he ever would._
_It was almost magical how naturally they got started. Eager hands and lips... Kisses neither of them wanted to break... Falling to bed... The sheer chemistry between them suggested that they’d always been meant to do all that._
_Then Alec kissed Magnus’ neck and tension flooded to the omega’s body. There was a sharp, gasp like breath, this time not for all the best reasons. With a stiff motion that definitely didn’t speak of consent the warlock turned his head, exposing more of his neck._
_Alec frowned. He must’ve done something fundamentally wrong, although he couldn’t fathom what it might be. “Magnus?” His boyfriend, who’d clenched his jaw, offered no verbal cues. He tried again. “Magnus, what’s wrong?”_
_His voice seemed to bring Magnus out of the trance. The man blinked twice, eyes focusing on his. Some of the earlier tension melted away while hands that’d been gripping his hips tightly loosened. “I’m sorry, Alexander. I just...” The omega emitted a wheezing sound of anxiety and frustration. “I haven’t been with an alpha since Camille for a reason. Some of the things she manipulated me into doing... made me feel uncomfortable. I know that you’re nothing like her, I simply got confused for a second. I’m sorry.”_ |
fb4939aad8c1454d94f5ee2b27f3749b | ['f82c8f2667704212859ee96fd404e846'] | In fact, he didn’t know why he’d let this continue for so long. Sure, he’d gotten his dick sucked, which was great, but he was still on his way to her town. He couldn’t chloroform her and bring her back as meat. Even he wasn’t so fucked up as to watch his family eat meat knowing full well his jizz was in her belly. But he couldn’t kill her now, either, which was usually necessary for the mold to take over. He thought it’d be plain rude after how nice she’d been.
So, they sat in silence while Lucas tried to figure out what to do with her.
The exit to Abbeville was coming up. And then he was following it.
“Left,” she said when he got to the end of the off ramp. He went left, avoiding looking at her. If she was going to have to die, he didn’t want to see those big dark eyes again. Of course, at the next right, he accidentally caught her looking at him and it smashed through his fragile barrier of clinical detachment. Fuck. It was just like him to get all mushy after a blowjob, not that he had much experience. He was a 25 year old man, _goddammit_ , not a stupid fucking teenager.
She didn’t speak except to give him directions, and like a robot, Lucas obeyed, all the while trying to think of the easiest way to tie off this loose end.
But the seconds turned into minutes, and after five of those, they were pulling into the dark parking spaces outside her duplex.
Lucas turned off the headlights and then he waited for her to get out. Logically he knew he was going to regret letting this one go. Or, he thought, maybe it wasn’t so bad. He could just change the license plate, or dump the truck completely. She had no idea where he lived, and all she had was his first name. Yeah, this might work out okay...
She still hadn’t gotten out yet, though. Lucas stole a glance. She was rubbing her thighs uncomfortably, maybe nervously, and her face was hidden from view behind her hair.
“So… you’re going to get rid of the bodies?” she asked.
“Yeah, I got a plan,” he answered. Gators had worked before, so it was legit enough sounding, not that he intended to waste perfectly good bodies. She cleared her throat and swiped some hair behind her ears, though it fell back forward again.
“But what if you get pulled over?”
Lucas shrugged and leaned against the door, studying her closely. Was the regret kicking in now?
“I won’t,” he answered, feeling mildly annoyed. Not so much with her, though she did factor into it. He wasn’t used to having to answer all these questions. He was half tempted just to tell her everything and get that fear reaction he’d been denied earlier.
“But what if you do? You’ve got blood on you.”
“The fuck d’you care?” Lucas asked, maybe a little sharper than he meant to. “This ain’tcher problem no more, sweetheart, just forget about it.”
He turned away from her and stared out his side window at the dark parking lot. It was after midnight, now, maybe even closer to 1 in the morning, and the neighborhood was silent. He didn’t know why he felt so fucking sensitive, but he was starting to regret giving her a ride. It would have been sweet fucking irony if he’d turned her away when she asked again, maybe even worth missing out on that road head.
Why’d girls have to complicate shit so much? She sniffed and Lucas looked at her again, wondering if he’d made her cry. She was peeking at him around her curtain of hair. What the fuck was she looking at?
“Maybe you oughtta take a shower first. Before you drive anywhere else.”
Lucas was at a complete loss for words or thoughts. Like his brain had shut down in shock and had to restart itself and wasn’t quite back online yet.
“What?” he uttered stupidly. He didn’t know if she’d just implied that he smelled bad, or if she was coming onto him.
She tucked the hair behind her ears again and looked down at her hands, which were knitting together.
“You wanna uh… come in? I mean, to use my shower?”
Lucas’s throat worked noiselessly.
His eyes fell on her nearly bare legs, and felt something stir and flutter in the pit of his stomach. The monster, sated by the dead bikers, was starting to rouse again. He didn’t know what would happen if he took her up on her offer, but guaranteed it probably wouldn’t be good.
“Yea, sure,” he heard himself say, and then with a dark chuckle, “them bodies ain’t goin nowhere.”
### Delilah
Lucas climbed up to the truck bed to check that the bodies were hidden well enough, and as Lilah watched him creep around back there, hunched over like some creature from a horror movie, she wondered if she'd join the dead men before the night was through. From the moment she'd gotten into the car with him, a trembling had rooted itself in the base of her spine and hadn't left. It had only gotten worse, in fact. She'd hoped that blowing him would alleviate it, but somehow it had only made it more intense, to the point that she’d started taking care of her growing problem. | 010bed86504440029ab2bc330a9f9fa2 | ['f82c8f2667704212859ee96fd404e846'] | “I’m happy you’re getting something out of it, too,” he said with a touch of humor. It sounded like his mouth was full. She felt the pressure spread and widen and she knew his tongue was splitting. She could feel it writhing and swirling with each individual part until it became one blurred sensation of tight, hot bliss. She held him hard against her as the pleasure rooted itself in her spine. Though she couldn’t see him, an image was seared into her brain from last night, of his tongue lavishing her while his eyes watched her with a hungry look.
It was enough to tip her over the edge.
When she came, it was like rolling downhill half-submerged under a warm blanket of molasses. Anna sighed and moaned softly as Nomak carried her gently to completion on the moist bed of his mouth until she was a pile of smiling, boneless putty on the mattress.
She felt his lips plant a kiss on her inner thigh before he slid his body along hers, bony ribs rubbing against her soft skin until he emerged from the covers. She could make out enough of his face in the dark to see that he was smiling before he hid it, nuzzling against her neck and hair.
“Can we just stay in bed all day?” she murmured contentedly, stroking his head with her fingers. She faced toward him and drew a tentative hand down his side, let each finger explore the texture of his skin, and the bone and muscle beneath the surface. In the dark, he looked somehow… smoother. Less veiny.
“More than anything, I wish I could,” he said. She smelled herself on his breath, but also the scent of blood, stronger. “ I can’t walk in daylight. My world has always been a dark place.”
She touched his face, musing over this new information with pursed lips, still pleasantly languid and tingly.
“I have so many questions,” she said, blinking owlishly in the semi-darkness, trying to see through the shadows playing tricks on her. He looked more… human, in this low light.
“Dawn isn’t for a little while,” he said, brushing his nose against her cheekbone. “I’ll try to answer you as best I can.”
She peered over her shoulder at the clock. 06:16 AM. They had perhaps an hour, this time of year. Now that she had the opportunity, and his agreement, Anna didn’t know what to say. As early as it was, she was having difficulties organizing her thoughts. Curiosities jumbled on the tip of her tongue.
Nomak slid closer to her until she felt his naked front against hers.
“How old are you?” she asked, though even as she did, she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer. He slid his hand around her hip.
“I can answer you with years, if you want. But I’m not sure it will tell you what you want to know,” he said, eyes blinking in the light from the curtains reflecting off the wall. “I’m old enough to know that joy is fleeting, and precious. And too old and cynical to be feeling the way you make me feel. But I guess I’m still young enough to want more. ”
He’d stated this as a fact, not as a sentimental indulgence, much like everything else he’d said. Anna bit her lip, and then she kissed him softly, which he returned with a gentle yearning, his hand tightening on the soft skin on her hip. He couldn’t be outside in the daytime, and he was probably much older than he looked. It was bizarre to find herself processing, and accepting, this information more easily now.
“Do you uhh... live forever?” It felt like a stupid question to ask, but considering the way her world had changed, maybe it wasn’t so stupid after all.
“I don’t know. I hope not.”
“Why not? Wouldn’t it be nice to have all the time in the world to do whatever you wanted… go wherever you wanted… read every book.”
He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers. It was a small gesture, but nonetheless, Anna felt it throughout her body, down to her toes. It felt like indulgent affection.
“When time stretches without end, it makes every moment meaningless,” he said with great care. “Impermanent things, and people, stop mattering. Life is cheap when there’s no limit to it. I never want to live long enough to become that.”
“It sounds like you’re talking about something... or someone, in particular,” she said.
He nodded and took a shaky breath, as though he needed to gather the courage to say what he was about to tell her. Anna steeled herself.
“I wasn’t always like this. I was born the thing I’ve come to hate. A vampire, pureblood, it’s called, when it happens by birth. Things were different, then... it was all I knew. I thought I was untouchable, and that my position was secure. I was naive. To even my own family, my life was worth no more than what it could gain them. Their greed turned me into… this.”
Anna’s eyes fell to his chin, though in the dark, she could barely see the details of his mark. She’s seen last night how it had started to separate… almost like a second mouth. For procreation, he’d said. She wasn’t sure she was ready to understand how, exactly.
“Your own family did this to you?” More questions came to her, questions about his life before. But she didn’t want to pry, and again, wasn’t sure she wanted to know the details. Some things were better left unknown. |
b136d9cf3eca488abd86c879ed87b147 | ['f83372141c144a64b92233ba92fe8ea7'] | He recalled the night they’d met. Max had been wearing it down then – a rarity in public, as he’d later learned. He’d been sitting with an attractive young woman at the time but the moment Dorian had caught his eye, Max seemed to lose all interest in her. It wasn’t long until the Marcher had wandered over with a fresh bottle of wine and a jaunty smirk (that may or may not have had his heart racing like a schoolboy with a crush). A few glasses in they were flirting. A couple more and Dorian was following the man upstairs, their lips locked from the moment they’d stepped in his room. It made him smile to remember it. He’d had no idea then that ‘Carter’ would turn out to be more than a convenient lay… so very much more.
The mage perched on the edge of the bed beside his sleeping lover. Even in slumber, he found he was drawn to him and he couldn’t resist placing a gentle kiss to his slightly parted lips. Then on his chin. Another on his neck. Before he’d even thought about what he was really doing, Dorian had moved to straddle Max’s thighs and he was kissing a line down the sleeping man’s chest. Max squirmed slightly at the sensation but he didn’t wake. Grinning, Dorian began to wonder how far he could go before his lover woke up. He continued his trail of kisses down over Max’s stomach, gently peeling back the sheet that covered him as he went. When he got to the crotch, he veered off to the side, kissing and nibbling his way down the man’s right thigh. That seemed to get more of a reaction but still Maxwell didn’t wake, merely humming and flexing his hips in his sleep. His soft cock began to twitch with interest and, smirking, Dorian wrapped his hand around it, feeling it stiffen. The mage stroked gently, his free hand snaking below to delicately tease at Max’s sac. Max was muttering now and making little sleepy sounds of pleasure that had Dorian hardening in kind. When his lover’s prick was stiff enough, Dorian leaned in and wrapped his lips around the shaft. That earned him a proper moan and suddenly, Max’s eyes were open, blinking blearily down his body with nothing short of wonder.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dorian smirked, pulling away. “Did I wake you?”
“You did but I’m certainly not sorry,” Max replied, and his drowsy mumble was simply adorable.
“Do you want me to stop?” asked Dorian innocently, and he licked a long line up the length of Max’s erection, earning himself another moan.
“Do I fuck,” Max sighed. “Though… I do have a request?”
“Name it,” purred Dorian.
“I want to suck you off too.”
That came as a surprise to the Tevinter but it was hardly an unpleasant one. Smirking, he crawled up his side of the bed and positioned himself so he was kneeling backwards over Max’s face.
“Like this?” he grinned and he could feel as much as hear Max’s groan of delight.
“Fuck, yes,” the Marcher hissed. “That is the best damned view in all of Thedas.”
It was Dorian’s turn to moan as his lover surged up without warning, wrapping his lips around his sac and drawing the testicles gently into his mouth. The mages back arched and he cried out at the sheer sensation of it.
“Maxwell, amatus,” he gasped. “Too much! I’ll come!”
Max actually managed to chuckle, which made Dorian wail until he was carefully released.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” His voice was deliciously husky with arousal and it made Dorian quiver, his cock throbbing with want. Keen to return the favour, he leant forward over Max’s body, bracing himself with his elbows either side of his lover’s hips. One hand wrapped around Max’s now very swollen prick and he sucked on the tip, relishing the salty taste of the precum that had gathered there. Maxwell cursed and then he was sucking too, making Dorian moan around the cock in his mouth. It was a delicious cycle of reactions – of sucking and moaning and pleasure. Dorian found it hard to maintain his usual technique when he was being pleasured himself but he was determined to try. He ran his tongue along the underside of Max’s shaft, swirling it sloppily around the weeping tip. Max seemed to be enjoying it, humming delightedly around Dorian’s erection and making the mage moan in turn. Their position was not an easy one to maintain but it had its benefits. Maxwell certainly made the most of his vantage point, slipping a slick finger between Dorian’s legs and gently rubbing the sensitive spot right behind his scrotum. Dorian shouted at the sudden flare of sensation, his hips bucking involuntarily. He could feel Maxwell chuckling around his cock. It was maddening, pushing him right up close to edge of ecstasy. He retaliated by hollowing his cheeks and taking his lover’s prick right to the back of his throat. Max grunted then and the hand on Dorian’s backside grasped tightly. He continued his delicate assault on Dorian’s perineum and unsurprisingly, it was the mage who came first, moaning around the cock in his mouth. Max followed seconds later, filling Dorian’s mouth with more cum than he could handle. He pulled away, swallowing hastily, but even then it managed to trickle out of the corners of his mouth and down his chin. Max was still moaning around his now oversensitive erection and he had to beg him to stop.
“Amatus, please,” he gasped, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Stop, it’s too much!”
For once, one Max took pity on him and he released his cock, gasping for air.
“Fuck, that was hot,” he panted. “Maker, Dorian, I could suck your dick all day.” | 183ea29e45c64e9b927353c78091f299 | ['f83372141c144a64b92233ba92fe8ea7'] | The Altus was burning with shame, even through his alcoholic haze. He’d kissed his best friend’s lover – after his own had just been kidnapped and subjected to blood magic. What had he been _thinking_? Maker, he hadn’t been thinking, that much was clear – maybe save the thought of a pleasant pity fuck. Max deserved better than that. _Cullen_ deserved better than that. He was going to have to get a grip on himself before he destroyed all of his relationships with self-pity and thoughts of his dick.
They arrived at Evie’s room and Dorian was fully prepared to wander on down the hall by himself. To his surprise, Evie turned to Cullen and flashed a placid smile in his direction.
“I think it would be better if Dorian stayed with me tonight, don’t you?” she suggested, sweetly. “He could clearly use the company.”
Dorian frowned and so did Cullen, looking taken aback.
“Oh,” he murmured. “Yes, I… suppose. Is everything alright?”
“Of course,” came Evie’s cheery reply. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know,” Cullen muttered, and he looked from Evie to Dorian and back again in his confusion. Dorian simply shrugged, not entirely sure what was going on. “Alright, well, I’ll just take one of the guest rooms tonight, then.”
“Really, I’ll be perfectly fine-” Dorian began, but Evie cut him off with a peculiar little laugh.
“Of course you would, darling,” she beamed. “But Cullen doesn’t mind, do you?”
Cullen blinked at her owlishly. Evie’s smile tightened and her lover nodded at once.
“Of course, it’s no imposition,” he replied. “Get a good night’s sleep, both of you.”
He flashed a strange, almost bewildered expression at Evie before slinking off up the West corridor alone.
Evie turned to Dorian with another smile – softer this time, warming the depths of her eyes – and she gestured towards the door.
“Shall we?” she suggested, and she led the way into what once had been their shared bedroom. Dorian followed her, a little perplexed. There had certainly been something off in her exchange with Cullen, though the Altus couldn’t quite pinpoint what in his tipsy state. He watched, frowning quizzically, as Evie moved about the room with familiar ease.
“Is everything alright?” he asked her slowly. “Are you certain you’re not upset?”
The redhead paused at her dresser, laughing airily as she pulled a long, silk chemise from one of her drawers.
“Relax, Dorian,” she said softly, closing the drawer and making her way to his side. “I promise – I’m not angry at you. There’s nothing to worry about.”
She pecked him fondly on the cheek, wandering over to the privacy screen and slipping behind it to change. Dorian stared after her. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Yet Evie was being perfectly pleasant and he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He began to clumsily strip off the outer layers of his outfit, drunken fingers fumbling on the clasps. He’d just about managed his outer robe by the time Evie re-emerged and she came over to help him, batting his hands away.
“Here,” she offered, pushing the heavier garment off his shoulders and folding it neatly. “Want your things?”
“No,” Dorian replied through a yawn. “I’ll sleep like this.”
He was suddenly tired and the heavenly softness of the master bed was calling to him like a siren. He clambered in beside his friend, smiling when she curled into his side with a little sigh.
“It’ll be alright, you know,” she murmured, burying her face in his shoulder. “We’ll fix this whole horrible mess soon enough.”
“So you say,” he muttered in reply. He wasn’t sure he believed her at current but he was too weary to protest. If nothing else, her optimism was endearing. Wrapping an arm around her, he buried his face in her long auburn curls, breathing deep the scent of jasmine that followed her like a cloud. He couldn’t recall exactly when this gentle young woman - this unwanted spouse - had become such a source of comfort to him. But as his love life fell to pieces, he was thankful, at least, that he had his friends to rely on.
*
Dorian awoke sometime in the early hours of the morning. His body was clammy with sweat, his head pounding and his throat felt as dry as the Hissing Wastes. Groaning, he sat up, screwing his eyes shut against a wave of nausea. His stomach churned and, for a brief moment, he thought he might vomit. Mercifully, the urge passed and he glanced around to find that the bed was empty.
“Evie?” he croaked, his voice thin and reedy.
The Altus heaved a sigh and he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. There was a pitcher of water on the bedside table and he poured himself a glass, gulping it down gratefully. It soothed the worst of his aching throat and dispelled a little of his grogginess.
“Evie?” he called again, clearer this time. Yet still, he got no reply. He wondered where she could have gotten to. It was not unlike her to wander off in the night, he supposed – at least, it hadn’t been back when they’d shared a bed regularly. Often, he’d find her curled up in the great room with a blanket and a book. Or in the kitchens, brewing tea. Those would be the first places to check. However, as he approached the bedroom door, it appeared he wouldn’t have to.
The door was open just a fraction, light from the great room seeping in through the crack. Dorian could hear whispered voices just beyond and he inched a little closer to listen.
“But I thought you said-“ |
a45237b5cf794ac78ef2a056493ac0fd | ['f83befaaa7b94726a4893adee1a53623'] |
Whisperings, Champagne, and Stars
9:00pm
From outside on the snowy, starlit night, Komaeda hesitantly reached for the door, taking a deep breath. He was reluctant to come, but Mioda had insisted, and he did not want to bring down her happy energy. He walked into the rented-out clubhouse to see streamers, bottles, champagne glasses, glowing lights, glitter, and ribbons scattered. The room was buzzing with his classmates talking and loud music. _ No one will notice if I... _ he thought to himself, on the verge of opening the door just to leave again. However, just then, Mioda came behind him and put both hands on his shoulders. "I'm so glad you came!" she said, bouncing with each word. He smiled to her, defeated. _ Never mind that _ ... He just had to make it through one party. How bad could it be to just sit here?
Mioda went around, personally greeting each guest with a smile. When she left, Komaeda found a chair in the corner of the room to himself. At some point, he was offered a bloody mary by noticeably-drunk Nekomaru Nidai, but he quickly passed on the offer. Besides that, no one bothered to talk to him. He felt invisible in the jubilant chaos of the party. _ Why would anyone want to notice someone like me anyways _ , he thought to himself. He looked down at the counter at his own hands. He was out of place there, just like everywhere else. He did not want to risk having Mioda notice his absence, but feeling this alone in a crowded room made his stomach feel empty.
\---
9:30pm
"I don't even like parties," Hinata told Nanami, no longer able to conceal his irritation. "Why are we even here?"
"Mioda wanted everyone to come..." She had a Game Boy Advance in her hand as she walked with the him. "You don't have to be such a buzzkill."
"Hmph." Hinata did not bother arguing with her. He scanned the room. _ This is fucking ridiculous. Why can't I just stay in my dorm for the night and watch the ball drop on TV? _ He sighed and took off his faux-leather jacket, hanging it up on a coat rack. He scanned the room, looking for somewhere to sit down. He felt like he was going to get a headache already, and the party had only just begun.
\---
9:45pm
Komaeda sat with his head in his crossed arms on the counter. "Why did she even want me here to begin with?" he asked himself, feeling cold. "It's not that I'm of any use to anyone here." He realized he was talking to himself and let out a long sigh. He then lifted his head. Looking around, he saw familiar faces, but not a single one wanted to so much as talk to him. _ I don't blame them at all _ . He watched everyone absently. Some danced, some swung back and forth drunkenly, some made oh-so-familiar small talk with one another, some quietly chattered among themselves. He felt like he was watching a film, rather than actually being there. That changed quickly.
A familiar looking man sat down in the chair next to him, fiddling with his phone and keys in his pocket before clumsily grabbing a mimosa from the counter. He turned to Komaeda with a confused expression on his face. "Oh, hey," he said, barely making eye contact.
"Hi..." Komaeda watched the other man as he took a sip of his mimosa and gave a non-directed glare. "I'm Nagito Komaeda, I think I've seen you before, but I don't think we've been properly introduced." He extended his hand to the other man. _ This is how it's supposed to go, right? _
The man stared back at first, looking unsure if he was the one being addressed. "I'm Hajime Hinata, nice to meet you, I guess." He shook hands with Komaeda, then rested his elbows on the counter. "I really do not want to be here."
Komaeda nodded along. "I know the feeling. I really don't belong in parties."
Hinata let out a huff of air and sat silently, staring off into space. Komaeda wanted to say more, but he was unsure of how to approach his classmate. The two sat in uncomfortable silence before Hinata spoke up again. "I want to go home."
"I do too..." Komaeda admitted. He looked back up at the other man. "Do you want to go outside for a little bit? I don't think anyone would be mad at us as long as we just stay out on the patio."
Hinata grabbed his coat and slid it over his shoulders. “Alright, why not,” he grunted and started out towards the patio, Komaeda hesitantly following behind him. He opened the sliding door into the winter night. He wrapped a scarf around his neck then looked to Komaeda. “Aren’t you cold?” he asked, noticing how light the other man’s jacket was.
“I’m always cold, it makes no difference to me.” He put his hands in his pocket and sat down on one of the two chairs outside. Komaeda watched his classmate take a seat near him and began to relax. “You look sharp tonight, Hinata,” he commented with nonchalance. He was trying to sport a more casual demeanor. Yet he meant what he said, eyeing the other man up and down.
Hinata adjusted his tie. “Uh, thanks.” He scratched the back of his neck. “You look, um, pretty.” His face puckered with embarrassment when the words came out, but Komaeda gave him a smile.
“I’m not used to formalities like this,” Komaeda told him. “I’m a psychology major, but no one talks to me much in class. I don’t have a roommate, either.” | 94aaf3a90e554fad8528a9ac34c56c0e | ['f83befaaa7b94726a4893adee1a53623'] | “Oh, I’m sorry…” Hinata started, but he noticed Komaeda laugh a little bit. “Um, I’m a business major. I share a room with some guy named Souda, but he’s always out, and his personality is a little much for me, anyways. I usually hang out with my friend Nanami back in her dorm. I’m just not a parties sort of guy.”
Komaeda started to smile, making unwavering eye contact with the other man now. “I’m sure people really like you, though.”
Hinata shifted back in his chair. “Ah, I don’t know about that…”
“You seem very kind to me,” Komaeda interrupted. “You know, you didn’t need to talk to someone like me, yet you’re here outside with me now. It’s an honor, really. Not many people want to be my friend, let alone so much as look at me. And for someone like you...” He trailed off, noticing he was starting to ramble again.
“H-huh?” Hinata shrugged. “You seem nice enough.”
The two then sat in silence. Hinata stared at the ground, while Komaeda studied him carefully. Hinata’s figure was muscular, but not too much so, and his skin was a perfect tan. His shoulders looked tense and his eyebrows were furrowed. He craned his neck and looked back up. “Do you want anything to drink?” he finally asked Komaeda.
“Oh, sorry, I don’t…”
\---
10:30
Hinata was on yet another glass of champagne, while the other man sat silently. “Uh, dance with me.”
“What?” Komaeda looked up in disbelief.
“You can hear the music from inside. We’re both bored here. It’s New Year’s Eve. I can teach you.”
Komaeda stood up. “Is this a joke?”
Hinata shook his head. “It’s one night, what do we have to lose?” He held out his hand and led him into the the snow covered grass. “Are you okay with me putting my hands on your waist? You put yours on my shoulders.” Komaeda nodded and Hinata led a dance to indistinct music playing in the background. _ What the hell am I even doing? _ He asked himself, letting the thinner boy lean into him. “Are you okay?” he asked, noticing Komaeda’s shaking.
“Yes,” he answered softly. “I’ve just… never danced before. I’ve never been this close to anyone, really.” He limply followed Hinata’s lead, carefully watching every movement and mimicking what he needed to do. “This is so… nice.”
“You’re doing very well for your first time, then.” _ This is weird, isn’t it? _ He sort of liked holding the other boy in his arms, and he couldn’t name why. “Are you sure you’re alright there?”
“I’m doing amazing,” Komaeda said, smiling hazily. His messy, wind-blown white hair shone in the moonlight, and snowflakes dotted the tip of his nose and lips. He was sort of beautiful, like a porcelain doll. He leaned his head on Hinata’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“Huh? It’s just a little dance, no worries.”
“You’re so nice to me,” he went on, allowing himself to lightly sway. “I didn’t think anyone would want to be near me.”
Hinata squinted. “What do you mean? You’re fine, don’t worry.”
“I’m disgusting…” he muttered. “I’m pathetic.”
Hinata gestured for him to lift his head so he could look at him. His eyes were a shining dull gray. Hinata lifted a hand to push Komaeda’s hair out of his face. “No, you’re not.”
“Don’t you hate me?” he asked bitterly, not blinking as he looked at Hinata.
Hinata rubbed a hand through Komaeda’s hair, this time more slow and gentle. “I don’t see why I would.” He pulled him closer without much thought. “I think I like you, actually. You’ve made this party less of a drag.”
“Ngh…” Komaeda let out a noise and relaxed into Hinata’s chest. “I don’t understand why you’re so nice to someone like me, but thank you…”
Hinata felt Komaeda shiver near him. “Do you want to go back inside now? I think it’s getting closer to midnight.” When he checked his phone, it read 11:30. Not much longer before the start of the new year.
Komaeda nodded meekly.
\---
11:30pm
Inside the clubhouse, Komaeda followed Hinata to a table filled with familiar-unfamiliar faces. “This is Chiaki Nanami, and this is Sonia Nevermind,” Hinata told him, gesturing to the two girls next to him. “I’ve known them since high school.”
Komaeda nodded along.
“Hello!” Sonia said, offering to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you. Are you Hajime’s friend?”
“The honor is all mine,” Komaeda said, trying not to embarrass Hinata in front of his friends. “I don’t know, I just met him tonight.”
Hinata nudged him. “Yes you are,” he said.
“Alright, if you wish to associate yourself with me.”
Nanami looked up from some video game device, seeming half-absent. “‘Sup,” she said with a nod, not even looking up.
Komaeda started to back away, feeling like a sore thumb with this group. _ I’m being a bother _ … As he almost left, Hinata put a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?” he asked.
Komaeda nodded, melting at the touch. “Yeah.” He sat back down, leaning a little bit against Hinata.
The brunette put his arm around him. “Maybe this year will be better than I thought.” The moment he said that, Komaeda felt warm inside. This was the first time he had let his guard down in years. He felt tired leaning into the other, soon zoning out comfortably.
\---
11:55pm
“Hey, I think you dozed off.”
Komaeda looked up dreamily at Hinata before realizing he was at a party, sitting at a counter, sleeping on another man. “Oh, my bad…”
Hinata chuckled. “It’s fine, it’s just getting closer to midnight. I thought you might want to be awake for it.”
“Ah, yeah…” |
1fe95595e1af4c948461325c845dd911 | ['f87020f030554f65b319a8872af7e5fe'] | my prayers to disappear
**Author's Note:**
* For LINK.
listen - you're always telling the group to just _listen_. stop talking, stop breathing so loudly, stop pounding the ground with your heavy steps and just _listen_ to what your surroundings are telling you. it takes one missed second to be caught off guard by a walker hidden in the crevices of the new world
listen, be quiet, enough - words that mean _nothing_ , apparently. words that travel along the wind and branches, just noise
a branch snaps beneath glenn’s shoe and you close your eyes, everything too bright with that branch snapping around in your brain. the sound waves reverberating in your skull just like they’re bouncing around in a radius around you
maybe the walkers follow the source of sound waves out of revenge, to stop all the noise in the world. you huff in amusement - that’s a sentiment you can relate to
you’d let the moment pass and move on, but there’s abraham’s booming voice, loud even in hushed tones, reprimanding glenn for being so careless. this starts a chain of comments and chatter, and you grit your teeth
it's just teasing, and there’s no rule that people can’t talk when the group is scavenging, but _it’s kind of a rule_
it’s a hot day and there’s sweat rolling down your temple and your shirt is sticking to your back and the air is warm and humid and like a blanket on your exposed skin and _there’s not enough room for all this noise_
you can’t take another second of it and break from the group, going into the woods with a grunt about hunting, daryl stalking beside you with his crossbow poised and ready
if you have to go in partners, you’ll choose daryl every time. he’s quiet, silent
most times it’s like he’s not even there
you’ve never had to tell him to be quiet, like carl, and he doesn’t take offense to the stony silence, like lori did. you move in sync, and catching his movements out of the corner of your eye doesn’t bother you like it used to; doesn’t crawl under your skin like eugene’s movements would (or anyone’s)
it’s new, this kinship; this feeling of _an extension of your own body._ when his shoulders turn to inspect the cracking of a twig 20 feet away, it’s like your own movement. you’re so intrinsically aware of his every movement and every sight as though it were your own. you see through two eyes, feel and hear through two different receptors
_in tune,_ you think. in tune with nature in a base and primal way you never could have been Before. not even with shane, your partner and best friend, was it ever like this. when you and shane were _in tune_ on the job, it was a joke compared to this. a ghost of what a partnership can be
you hate hunting with anyone else. the sun is too bright through the leaves and the earth is too damp and moldy in your nostrils. they all crack and rustle and thump when they move, never a moment’s peace. their breathing, quiet and controlled, is loud and ragged in your ear. everything is a sharp, loud nail to your brain
with daryl, everything is muted enough that the heightened senses can be useful
with each step away from the group, you can feel your breath coming easier and your skull decompressing
with each step, you disappear into his silence
**Author's Note:**
> hmu on LINK :) | a6c208065605462f8db9cc81ee725257 | ['f87020f030554f65b319a8872af7e5fe'] | i am destroyed by the inside
**Author's Note:**
> companion work to LINK by inflomora-art. go check out LINK for this au bc she is a STAR
>
> originally posted on tumblr summer of 2014. i posted stuff for this au really sporadically on tumblr and that's how they're gonna be on here too, unfortunately. bits and pieces. i basically used this au as a tool to try and get myself out of a really shitty writer's block.
>
> au basics: lashton are shadowhunters and parabatai, luke is part fey, calum is a human later turned werewolf, and michael is a warlock.
“ASH WATCH OUT!!”
and if ashton had just put his phone away after taking the picture, he probably could have still had time to actually make use of his seraph blade, but of course he had to _look at the picture to make sure it was good_. turning back to the hellhound in front of him just as it leaps, luke lets out a frustrated yell as he throws his blade at the hellhound and embeds it into its skull. the hellhound’s forward momentum causes it to crash into him, throwing him down into the pavement. he hears bones crunch and his shoulder is probably scraped raw and luke doesn’t have time to care. as he pushes the hellhound aside, spitting out wiry fur and blood, he looks back to ashton and scrambles up.
_no time to grab the blade, no time to grab another weapon_ , the second hellhound has already torn its claws through ashton’s calf and used its other paw to bat him down—ashton barely yells out as he hits the ground, bless him—and luke sprints over, grabbing the hellhound in a headlock and heaving it backwards before it can bite ashton.
“i got it, make sure you’re okay,” luke quickly yells, before ashton gets the bright idea to try and get up. ashton winces and kneels anyway, leaning forward as far as he can, just enough to slice his blade through the hellhound’s spiked tail as it whipped around to strike at luke. the spiked end falls to the ground, limp and useless. luke, too mad to be grateful, throws him a furious look and ashton just turns his grimace into a grin.
the hellhound’s red eyes roll up to glare at luke as its snarls in warning, snapping its teeth: _hey punk remember me?_ luke snarls back and swings a leg over the hellhound, trying to keeping it in place long enough to gain the leverage to break its neck. the hellhound struggles against him enough to have thrown him aside any other time, but the sight of ashton’s blood is seared into luke’s mind. it makes something familiar and deep inside him rise up to the surface, burning like acid, and he tightens his hold on the hound’s neck, kicks the hound’s ribs one after another, shards of rib breaking through flesh—the hound goes down and luke’s got one hand on either side of its jaw, pulls it open, never breaking eye contact with the hellhound, whose snarl has reduced to harsh, ragged breaths, as he slowly tears its jaw apart, bones snapping and flesh ripping, the hellhound twitching helplessly underneath him—he just keeps pulling its jaw apart until he stops seeing ashton’s blood and sees only the hound’s blood-red eyes whirling around frantically inside their bleeding sockets and —
“LUCAS.”
ashton’s slightly hysterical voice cuts through the air, hoarse as though he’s been yelling for a while, and luke feels a lump of dread drop to the base of his stomach and suddenly he doesn’t see anything. he doesn’t look over at ashton, doesn’t meet what he knows will be a horrified expression and terrified eyes. instead he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and swiftly snaps the hellhound’s neck, ending it. he breathes in and out until the acidic burning under his skin simmers to an irritating itch.
when he opens his eyes again, he is on his knees, hands on the pavement, leaning over the dead animal. he lets out a shaky, lifeless laugh and gets up, moving swiftly to where ashton is trying to clean his wound like some sort of mundane. luke brings out his stele, knocks aside ashton’s hands, and sets to making an iratze. he presses down as hard as he can, making a point.
“fuck!” ashton cries. he touches luke’s arm, as if to calm him. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry alright?”
luke sets his jaw and finishes the iratze with only slightly less force. he sits back and feels the itch under his skin start to burn again as he watches ashton’s wound heal. he sees ashton’s chest rise and mouth start to open, like he’s about to say something, and luke really can’t deal with ashton saying _anything_ right now. so he grabs ashton’s shirt tight like a lifeline and pulls him in, kisses him hard and kisses again even harder.
he mumbles “you’re going to get yourself killed” in apology for his behaviour, some sort of excuse, hands moving to cup ashton’s face. ashton kisses him gently in response.
**Author's Note:**
> hmu on LINK :) |
f8f95599fe914943bfcb44144a895222 | ['f8760c6988e94d2f9fc2cb436e7be5b1'] | Ren chuckles, low and dark. “Comfortable?” he asks drily, and Goro glares up at him. He crooks his finger and Goro’s hard expression falls away a little more. “That’s right. You should get used to this. You’re not in charge anymore.” He tilts his head, considering, before reaching with his free hand to take hold of Goro’s chin, pulling his face up into a messy kiss. It’s kind of weird, kissing the tie - but it’s thin enough, the way Ren’s pulled it tight, that it doesn’t get too much in their way. And it’s worth it, Ren thinks, for the way it keeps Goro’s mouth open and gasping into him, unable to restrain the sounds he’d usually bite back.
(And it only feels slightly like eating a handkerchief, so all in all, a win.)
Goro moans against the languid, feverish press of their lips together, jolting Ren out of his fabricky musings, and he takes the opportunity to kiss Goro harder, sucking on his lip and sliding his tongue wherever he can reach it. And while Goro’s preoccupied, Ren slips another finger into him, and smirks against the kiss when Goro shakes against him.
With two fingers, he can press deeper, and he searches for the spot that will make Goro fall apart -
“Nngh-hh-!”
\- found it.
Goro’s whole body’s gone taut beneath him, clenching down on his fingers. When Ren breaks away from the kiss Goro’s too distracted to return any longer, he can see it in the blankness of Goro’s eyes as he stares up at the ceiling, the way Goro’s starting to lose himself.
Ren indulges himself in a tender kiss pressed to the corner of Goro’s eye, even as his fingers keep moving, reasoning that Goro will be too far gone in a moment to register it anyway. As it is, Goro just turns slightly hazy eyes on him, mildly accusing but lacking the energy to muster any real fire behind his eyes. He says something Ren can’t hear.
Ren shakes his head. “I told you to be quiet,” he reminds him, punctuating the warning with another hard thrust of his fingers and Goro shuts up, words replaced with a keening sound he doesn’t seem to realize he’s making. His eyes fall closed again; he’s drooling slightly around the gag and biting down on it hard - somewhere in the back of Ren’s mind he notes with resignation that he will probably owe Goro a new one.
He presses his fingers against that spot again. Goro jerks weakly, a harsh sound escaping his throat. “Pl-” he starts to say, before his eyes widen at the look on Ren’s face and he claps a hand over his mouth before the rest of the word escapes. Instead, he stares beseechingly up at Ren, who smiles.
“Looks like you’re getting it,” he says, offhand. “Well, beg if you want. It makes no difference to me.”
( _It makes a difference to me_ , Ren’s dick offers. He ignores it, kind of.)
Goro removes his hand, but doesn’t say anything. It seems he’s still reluctant to let go - shed his reservation - even as he rocks helplessly against Ren’s fingers like he can’t control the motions.
It’s a start, Ren supposes, but it’s not quite enough, and he spreads Goro a little more so he can work a third finger into him.
Goro makes a slightly pained noise at the stretch, and Ren stops at once. He glances anxiously up at Goro’s face, but Goro doesn’t look like he wants to stop - he stares back at Ren with hooded, wanting eyes, and rocks down on his fingers again, just a little.
Ren’s face breaks into an incredulous smile. “So that’s what you like,” he purrs, and starts moving his fingers again, heedless of the way Goro squeezes his eyes shut to get used to the burn of it. “Is that it? You really want me to hurt you?”
The disbelief is for show; Goro’s masochistic streak doesn’t surprise Ren in the least. Ren feels only a twinge of apprehension as he keeps working Goro open, slow and torturous. He’s not as confident as he’d like to be that Goro will stop him exactly when he should. Ren doesn’t think he’s willing to do to Goro what Goro seems to want done, especially not tonight. Even a little too far is further than Ren wants to go.
_I love you_ , he chants in his head, since Goro won’t hear it. _I_ love _you._
Goro’s breathing is growing strained; when Ren gives another experimental thrust, Goro makes a strangled sound, liberally spilling pre-come over his stomach. Ren reaches to take him in hand, but Goro swats him frantically away - he shakes his head when Ren looks up at him again and the look on his face says he wants this to last.
Ren offers him another lazily approving smile. “Are you torturing yourself for me?” he croons, but inside he aches - how badly must Goro want out of his head to welcome any strong sensation, pain or pleasure, so long as it drove him out?
Still, he keeps his unrelenting pace. He works his fingers insistently against the spot that makes Goro’s eyes roll - until he’s gasping for air, long, labored breaths undercut with small, desperate whimpers that force Ren to pause and close his eyes.
“Ren,” Goro pants, well as he can through the gag. His voice is hoarse.
“Goro,” Ren returns. He’s glad it comes out smooth, steady; inside he feels about as wrecked as Goro looks, just from hearing the breaks in Goro’s voice when he cries out. “Have you had enough?”
“No,” Goro groans. “ _Yes_. Ren -” He tosses his head, impatient, and reaches up to pull the tie away. | 85e72697ef9e4785b2665d53b6c8c0e1 | ['f8760c6988e94d2f9fc2cb436e7be5b1'] |
One Thing
It’s not long after they finally start dating that Goro first pulls himself onto Ren like this, tangling their legs together and kissing him hard, _hard_ , like he means to spirit the breath from Ren’s throat.
There’s not much Ren can do but muffle the small noise he makes in return - hands going automatically to Goro’s hips and gripping tight to them even as Goro moves against him, lithe and graceful and erratic all at once. How they got here, exactly, is somewhat of a mystery and the _why_ of it all is more elusive still, but Goro’s tongue is in his mouth and he can’t - quite - _think_.
“Hey,” he manages to gasp when Goro snakes a hand beneath his shirt, but Goro seals their lips together again, silencing him. There’s something - if he could only get his brain working again - _something_ about the slightly wild look Goro’s had in his eye from when he’d first grabbed a fistful of Ren’s shirt to now, and the frantic rhythm he’s setting - “Goro?” Ren tries again, and Goro makes a frustrated sound and buries his face into the crook of Ren’s neck, fingers splayed across his chest and his other hand tucked beneath Ren’s side. “Are you - alright?”
Goro lifts his head and Ren gulps at the look in his eyes, dark and slightly feverish. “Is there a problem?” he bites out, and his hand drifts lower, and Ren tries to remember what a _thought_ is. “You don’t want this?”
“I just -” Oh, god damn him confusing the point, because of course Ren wants this - he always wants Goro, and he doesn’t need Goro’s teeth scraping at the hollow of his throat to remind him - so it would be nice if he would _stop_ for long enough for Ren to string a sentence together - but - “I just - want to make sure you’re…”
“What a gentleman,” Goro purrs, but it comes out as more of a growl. “So what’s the hold up? Do you need me on my knees begging for you before you’ll make a move?” He bites down on Ren’s shoulder, making him gasp again. “Or are you going to pull yourself together and _take what you want_?”
“Fuck,” Ren hisses, pulling Goro into another burning kiss. Goro responds eagerly, moaning into Ren’s mouth and sucking on his lower lip. Ren breaks away to breathe and Goro’s cheeks are flushed, his hair falling around Ren’s face in loose strands. The sight of him, disheveled and panting and leaning over Ren with those eyes that seem to glow with promise under the shadow of his hair, sets a spark alight somewhere in Ren’s chest as he pulls Goro back down to him. But Goro denies him this time, ignores his parted lips in favor of returning to his neck. He nudges Ren’s chin up, leaving a trail of heated kisses up the long line of his throat, from his collarbone to the base of his jaw.
“Tell me it’s good,” Goro hums against the side of his head, and Ren only moans in response. “Tell me what I do to you.”
“God,” Ren chokes out, moaning again when Goro rolls his hips down against the tightness in his jeans. “Isn’t it - obvious?” He feels Goro smirk, then - feels teeth worrying at the delicate skin of his throat, nipping once.
“Good?” Goro asks again.
“ _Yes_ ,” Ren breathes. “ _Always_ , Goro.”
Goro purrs again at that, right into Ren’s ear.
And then the air is knocked entirely out of him as Goro swiftly flips them over, dragging Ren on top of him and rocking upwards into him without preamble, leaving Ren to choke on half a breath.
“Always, hm?” Goro whispers. “But I bet this is better. Isn’t it?”
“Nn-ngh.” Ren can’t think.
“Don’t you like this better, Ren?” Ren forces himself to blink, to shake the haze from his mind as he props himself up on shaking arms to take in the sight - and Goro _is_ one, always is, but the way he is now, open and vulnerable beneath him...
“Beautiful,” Ren murmurs.
Goro gazes up at Ren with soft eyes, his hair fanning out in a gentle halo and his hands resting on either side of his head. “Don’t you like me like this?” he invites, suddenly shy and coquettish at once. “Don’t I look good? I’m at your mercy, Ren - so what do you want from me…?”
Ren swallows. Goro looks so demure, so wanting -
An act, Ren knows, but one he can’t help but play into. He leans down to press a sweet kiss to Goro’s mouth. But Goro whines, pulling back with a furrowed brow. “Come on,” he mutters. “Don’t be like that. I know you can be rough - I’m _asking_ you -”
Ren shakes his head. “Goro - what’s wrong?”
“What’s _wrong_?” Goro snarls, innocence melting away. “What’s wrong is _you_ \- why won’t you just take what you want? I know you want me - so why -”
“You just seem -”
But Goro brings his hands up to bury his face in them, hiding himself away again. He’s trembling - with distress, maybe, or anger - and his voice shakes when he growls, “Stop making me _think_.”
“W-what?” Ren tries to sit back, tries to keep his voice level, but Goro’s hand shoots out to capture his wrist.
“ _Please_ ,” Goro says. “I need to get out of my head. I can’t bear it - can you just -”
Ren shakes his head again - not to decline, just to clear it. “What do you -” |
bec7ae571d96485f8cfa35dd144a4316 | ['f8781bf7967c4ec2aa4612ee8dd9e679'] | Sherlock didn’t want to talk about “why” he had ventured off into a hotel room to loose himself mentally and physically. He didn’t want to confess “what” had made his hands shake and his palms sweat long before the drugs had entered his system. He certainly didn’t want to have a little chat about “how” he had been feeling or the effects those sensations were having on his body. It had been a temporary state of mind, and the brilliant but stubborn man was sure that he had gotten rid of the cause of his suffering. Now, he just wanted to forget about it.
John frowned as he stopped eating, his darker blue eyes glaring at the detective. He was dodging his questions again, like always by bringing up things that weren't what he wanted to be discussed. It aggravated him and he was getting to the point of wanting to burst.
"I'm sorry, I was much more concerned for your well-being then your damned coat." The blond spat, folding a napkin angrily. John knew Sherlock hated being asked questions, but he needed answers, not to be waved off or ignored.
Sherlock glared at John from the corner of his eye. How dare John not take his bait? How was it that he dared to stay focused on such an annoying conversation? He wasn’t going to give up the fight that easily.
“Well it would have been preferable had you remembered the coat. I texted you. That meant I was alive. You could have grabbed the coat on your way out the door.”
John gave a short laugh, looking over the other with a scrunched up nose. Again with the coat, that's all the detective had to drive him away from the subject? His fingers started to tear at the napkin, deciding he could guess.
"Alive? Look at you, obviously malnourished and you've lost maybe more than five pounds. You haven't showered or cleaned your clothes. Not to mention you look like..." John paused, putting one and two
together. Drugs.
Sherlock leered at the man and realized he had figured out the foundation of the story and it was more than he wanted John to figure out. He turned his head away and took in more hydration, now making sure to avoid eye contact.
John watched the other man’s face, a frown sketching on his own features. Great, that was definitely the last thing he wanted to be the problem. The doctor felt suddenly stupid for not catching it before, knowing that Sherlock had a history with doing such things.
"So now you're not going to talk."
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Sherlock scoffed, took back the remainder of his beverage, and stood. “I’m going for a walk.”
There was a good chance that John would follow him, Sherlock knew that, but he hadn’t the mind to care if the doctor did or not. He was tired of that street and that diner and the conversation. He planned to just walk away from all of it.
John quickly stood up to follow him, putting on his coat and leaving the majority of his food uneaten. He wasn't about to let Sherlock walk off again and risk the chance of him vanishing for the second time that month. This was obviously a touchy subject, seeing as how he didn't want to talk about it.
"There is a lot to talk about, Sherlock," he said in his displeased tone.
An immense aggravation caused Sherlock to storm away from his partner at an unusual speed. He wasn’t feeling regret. He simply didn’t want to talk about what he did or why.
“There is nothing _worth_ talking about,” he corrected himself and John.
"Sherlock, don't walk away and not answer me." John cursed, reaching to try and grab the back of the detective’s shirt to slow him down. He just wanted to know why Sherlock did it. Had something brought him low enough to do such things or was it just a stupid act of Sherlock’s boredom? John was just trying to be his friend. All he wanted was to help.
As John’s fingers locked into the neck of the sensitive man’s shirt, Sherlock swung around defensively to break the grasp. His quick motions left a stunned expression on the doctor’s face. The two met eye to eye as the detective took exactly three steps backwards and away from his concerned companion. They eyed each other for a moment. Sherlock watched Watson’s brows knit together in distress. It was obvious the man would not let the matter go, but Holmes had no intention of giving away his secrets.
The questions were written plainly on the shorter man’s face. Sherlock imagined what he must look like to John right now. He saw himself in the state he knew he was in: Thin. Pasty. Large rings under his eyes. Cracked lips. Dirty skin. Filthy two week out outfit. Unwashed and not well kept. A mess of a brilliant man walking away, avoiding the truth of his fault.
Sherlock locked his teeth together as the irritation in his stomach grew. Why did John care to pry into his business so much and so often? It was a mystery. The doctor saw him as a ‘friend’. Sure, Holmes had already confessed that he thought the man was his one honest companion. He’d even dared to use the word “friend” once or twice. –but why did John never let things go? It should have been clear to the older man that his younger sociopathic buddy was not in a mood to discuss his misdeeds. Shouldn’t that be enough?
The detective’s eyes narrowed and finally he spoke, “Knowing would not benefit you.” | 22d02b72e690471f9505da46fb6077fd | ['f8781bf7967c4ec2aa4612ee8dd9e679'] | “Like what?” Evan blushed and felt suddenly self-conscious.
“All proper and what not.” Terry gave an expression he hoped would come off as friendly as he meant the jest. “Who says ‘make your acquaintance’ anymore?”
Now Evan’s cheeks were blushed with a deep pink. He had been asked that question many times by the man he was searching for. Ventus often turned to him during conversations and would chide him. Saying, “No one says ‘swell’ or ‘goodie’, you know? And when people get pissed, they scream ‘Damn it!’ or ‘Shit!’. Not ‘Oh, darn!’.”
“Yes, well. It is just how I speak.” That’s what Evan said to Terry. It was a little less feisty than his usual retort to Ventus.
“Haha! You are an interesting guy, Mr. Weld.”
“Evan is fine.”
“Alright. Evan. You’re the man strong enough to pick me up off the ground and polite enough to apologize for it right after. You are an interesting guy.”
Evan shifted in place. “Right, sorry about that. Again.”
“I said it isn’t anything to worry about. Jeeze.” Terry rubbed the back of his head and raised an eyebrow at Evan. “You’re sort of a giant soft-furred grizzly, aren’t ya?”
“Pardon?”
“Oh, nothing.” Terry grinned and looked the six-foot-two man in front of himself over and nodded as though agreeing with himself about something. Then, he changed the subject entirely. “So, what brings you out to Metroville, Evan?”
“I’m looking for someone.”
“Yeah? Who might that be?”
“A friend of mine.”
“What’s his name? Maybe I know him.”
“I doubt it.” Evan shook his head. “I haven’t seen him in a few years.”
“Damn! Really?” Evan looked up at Terry with a slight disapproving look and the man shrugged his shoulders defensively again. “Right, sorry. Guess you don’t care for cussing. Well,” he cleared his throat. “If you haven’t seen him in so long, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. Did you just get lost?”
“No, nothing like that,” Evan admitted. “See, he doesn’t really know that I’m looking for him. At least, I don’t think he does.”
Terry gave Evan a confused cock of the head. “He doesn’t? So it's a surprise?”
“Sort of. Only, I don’t know where he is either.” Admitting that he was looking for someone he hadn’t seen in years and not even knowing where that previously mentioned man was sounded a bit off, even to Evan’s own ears.
“So….” Terry crossed his arms. “You’re hunting for a guy. You don’t even know if he’ll remember you and you have no idea where he is.”
Evan’s voice echoed through the alleyway as he suddenly spoke up with passion. “Of course he’ll remember me!” He caught himself and lowered his voice. “It’s just that he left a long while ago and he told me not to-“ he stopped. He shouldn’t tell anyone too much about his circumstance. He was smart enough to realize that.
“Uh-huh. Right. Well.” Terry seemed to be running through his own thoughts now. Evan wondered if the man thought he was some sort of crazy, or a stalker, or worse. After a moment, Terrance finally spoke up about another matter. “No offense, but when is the last time you bathed?”
“That’s so rude!” Evan’s cheeks darkened with a red undertone again. He was about to defend himself when he realized it had been a few days since he was last able to find shelter. Now that he was thinking about it, he was in need of a bath and other necessities. The island boy hung his head and lowered his eyes to stare at his chest in a bit of shame.
Terry seemed to take the hint and sighed. “I don’t mean to come off rude, buddy. But have you been sleeping outside for a while?”
Evan lifted his head and looked at the man with humility and concern. Terry was taken back by how large and blue Evan’s naturally beautiful eyes were. He smiled and scratched the side of his head a little, while looking around. Evan admitted, “I have. I apologize if I’m unpleasant to the senses. I just haven’t had-“
“It’s fine.” Once again, Terry cut Evan off. “Come on. You can come back to my hotel and get cleaned up.”
Evan would have denied the invitation politely as he had nothing to give the other man in exchange, but he somehow ended up without a choice.
Terry had grabbed the tanned male’s hand with his gloveless one and started marching him through the streets. They were back at a rather fine hotel before Evan had really registered that this peculiar stranger was leading him around. Within the hour, Evan had been stripped of his clothes, thrown into a hot bath, and forced to relax with bubbles and a soft sponge.
“I’ll get your clothes cleaned for you,” Terry offered and started gathering up Evan’s things.
“Wait!” Evan jumped from the tub and—naked and covered in soap bubbles—he grabbed his wallet, journal, and Proto from his things and placed them on the wash table beside the tub. “Sorry about that. Just don’t want these washed,” he giggled nervously.
“Right. Right. I get that. Now get that pretty ass of yours back into the tub. You’re soaking the floor.” Terry laughed as he teased, then left once Evan was back under the comfort of the bath water.
_Pretty… ass…?_ The last time Evan had been complimented so crudely by someone who wasn’t a back-way junker had been when Ventus was still around. All at once, Evan realized how much being around Terrance whatever-his-last-name was making him think about Ventus.
Evan heard the front door to the hotel room shut as Terry ventured off, presumably with Evan’s laundry, and sighed. He stood, locked the door out of defensive habit, and pulled Proto from the table. He placed the device on and scanned the area. No Ghosts. It was peaceful. It was comfortable. |
6a6167a3d8c44322adf69553f77c5541 | ['f87de7e7734c4599a69baef60a2b3728'] | Cinna had refused to show you his sketchbooks whenever you had asked him about them. You had known for a fact that he had at least ten, having seen one of the servants carrying a box of them up to his room. A more recent sketchbook you could have understood him refusing entry to, but you hadn’t seen why the clearly older ones had been off-limits. Nothing could have possibly been important in such old and weathered books, but all the same, you hadn’t been allowed anywhere near them. Those had been the only moments he had seemed to change in even the slightest manners. He had never been rude about it, but he had always appeared much more disconnected, stand alone and guarded, when you had tried to poke through them. The change, however small, had fascinated you, but it had been that fascination that led to what happened next.
Summer had come, and six months had passed since Cinna had come into your life. You had considered yourself much closer to him than before and had often discussed even the little things that had occurred in your life with him. Your parents had loved you well enough, and you had certainly gone out with your friends often enough, but most of your time had been spent with Cinna whenever you had been home. You had never seen him go out in the time that you had known him; if he had been leaving the house, it had to have been whenever you had been gone. That was why you had been bewildered to find him leaving your house in the early afternoon in the middle of the season. Logically, it had made sense as, at some point, he would have had to leave for his work, but you had come to know his schedule so well that the break had been bewildering if nothing else.
With your companion and father gone for that day, you had lazed about the house until late into the night but by that time neither had returned. It had been a behavior you had come to expect of your father, one that you had accepted as normal, but never of Cinna. Three more hours had come and gone before you had decided to give up the wait and turn in. Ignoring the staff that had been shuffling off to their homes and rooms, you had pulled yourself upstairs, but as you had been padding down the hall towards your room, you had noticed that his door was ajar. Cinna had always been meticulous when it had come to his room and there wasn’t a day that you could recall that his door had been left unlocked and open when he hadn’t been in it. To you, it had been one of those quirks he must have picked up from living in a poorer District, and not having wanted to put him in a state of irritation, you had moved to close it for him.
Just as you had been pulling the door back, you had noticed it. The old and torn box that had housed Cinna’s sketchbooks had been left sitting upon his desk, the cover fastened tightly upon it. Various warnings had run through your head about touching this box but your curiosity would not have let this go. Cinna had been insane to think that you hadn’t noticed how possessive of his sketchbooks he had been. He hadn’t changed dramatically but he had become more nervous and determined to distract you with something else when you had been near. You had been desperate to know though what had been inked onto those pages by his hand. What sort of fascinating designs had he captured?
Unrestrained in your desire to peek into this world so different from your own, you had pushed the door open without a second’s thought and had pulled out the newest sketchbook from the top of the pile. Before you had come into the room, the box had been covered anyways, so you had doubted that he would have noticed so long as you had put the book back on top of the pile. Nearly giddy over this, you had sat on the corner of the table and had begun to flip through each of the pages casually. Only half of them had been filled, but the things you had found there had been absolutely fascinating. Everything had been black-and-white for the most part, but some had splashes of color running along their lines and each had been different from the last. Some had reminded you of something that could have easily been worn into the Capitol, but others had gone beyond even your imagination and sense of fashion.
The hours must have slipped by you because, by the time the clearing of his throat had sent you jumping up, you had nearly reached the end of the book. Frightened, you had slapped the book shut forcefully and nearly stumbled away from the desk. After months of having warned you away from the books, you had known that he had to be furious, an emotion you had never seen him suffer under, for this had been a violation of the one rule he had set for you. Guilt had risen like bile in your throat but it was of the temporary kind. You had been like a child that had been caught stealing from the cookie jar without permission. You had felt the temporary guilt of a daughter scolded that would have been forgotten the next day. No, if you had been going to go to be miserable, it would have been because of what he had said next. | 2f04633308af4deb817e1b2c8b9fa5d6 | ['f87de7e7734c4599a69baef60a2b3728'] |
So This Is Love
**So This is Love**
Her sobbing is muffled by the firmness of his shoulder as he bounces her lightly in his arms. Had unwanted thoughts not kept sleep just out of your grasp you doubted that you would have heard her yourself. As it is the others have not been roused from their own rest by her gentle crying. Not even Daryl from his perch seems to have registered the muted softness that occupies Rick’s cell, and for a single, selfish moment you savor the rare sense of isolation.
He stands with his back to you, unaware of your presence, as he murmurs soothing words into her hair in an attempt to calm the fussing newborn. You know that you should speak up, or at the very least return to your cell, but in a life where anything can be lost in the blink of an eye you want to carve this moment into your heart lest you never get a second chance to. This moment that he shares with his daughter is the first time in months that he resembles anything close to the man he once was.
Rick is not the same man that brought you under his protection when Doctor Jenner pushed you to follow after him though he could have just as easily turned you away once all was said and done. You had been a woman he had only known for a few precious hours, a survivor by chance that had been studying in the CDC under another of the Doctor’s coworkers. You were another mouth to feed, another risk that could upset the balance of his people, and he had taken a gamble on you others might not have.
Lori, Shane, and the burden of a leadership he had never asked for had broken him. He had accepted his role, but it had come at a price that only he was obligated to pay. Over the months he’d become withdrawn and bitter. When he spoke it was with a tone that brokered no arguments. He never became the brute that Shane had been, but there was no denying that he had lost something in him that had helped to keep him human.
When you had stumbled down the steps after him, hours after Lori had passed during childbirth and his once nameless baby had been settled into the warmth of her patchwork family, he had been drowning in his grief. You had stood uncertainly at the bottom of the steps torn between offering him a comfort that would do little good for him and allowing him to grieve for everything he had lost. It hadn’t been your place, but nobody else seemed to have remembered the grieving father.
A vicious tyrant of words and slurred speech had made that decision for you, but it hadn’t kept you from returning later that night to fold him into the blankets stripped from both his bed and your own.
“Please stop crying.” Your nails dig into the cold metal of the bars that form the entrance to his room as his whispers to his child in a tone so broken that you are left uncertain as to which of the two is more upset. “Please stop crying.” You should have left Rick to his child when you had the chance. This moment of humanity, these small seconds that he takes to break, are not yours.
But you can’t walk away.
“Rick.” He visibly stiffens at the sound of your voice and turns with Judith pressed protectively in his hold. You lament the barely masked grief hidden under an expression of neutrality. He is stepping back into his role, neatly tucking away each crack in his shell though one day there will be no pieces of him left to put back together. “Here.” With slow, measured steps you approach him slowly. “Let me help,” you murmur just under your breath, just for his ears, as you hold out expectant arms towards Judith.
For a single moment there is nothing but you, him, and a child that might not even be his own. His gaze is levelled on your form and the intensity, the rare show of emotions that have been absent for months now, catches your breath. In this moment that slows to the sound of your thrumming heart you watch as a thousand unnamed thoughts flicker behind the startling blue of his eyes. For this moment there are no Walkers that even now hunger for your flesh, there are not the restless sounds of bodies shifting in their cots; there is only a man that holds his world in his arms and a woman that is asking him to share the only thing that is truly his.
And in the blink of an eye the moment is gone as he gently transfers Judith into your waiting arms. A vicious, protective instinct takes hold of you, and as you press her head to rest into the crook of your neck Rick is forgotten for the time being. Your fingers run over her fragile back as you support her weight, rocking her with swaying motions of your body, and lips brush against the soft wisps of her hair.
Judith is not your child, but that does not make her any less a part of you. When Rick watched her hesitantly from a distance you knew it was as much a punishment to himself as it was resentment. Judith meant the loss of his wife, not only in life but in love as well. Judith was a child that would grow up in this world unaware that life had been anything but this Hell. Judith was an innocent and he was a sinner. Weren’t you all though when it came down to it? |
c53b9037c840450e9c2af12b19a847f9 | ['f89b7842f0f04afb894362f9b962a2ee'] | Max laughed to herself. "And that didn't seem to stop you"
"I just like giving him a hard time, plus that meant you were up for steals, and I wasn't missing my chances"
Max smiled holding in her blush as her cheeks turns slightly red.
"Sooo.. anything else you want to ask" Chloe said as she notice max blush giving her a soft smirk sensing her nervousness on top of her own.
"What was your last relationship like"
Chloe chuckled sighing as she shook her head. "Oh man!" She said as she collected her thoughts. " The only way I can describe that, is complicated."
"How so" Max asked
"Let's just say we were bad for each other, it was too aggressive, fought way too much"
"Oh" was all max could say.
"Would ask about yours, but I kind of got that run down already. Has Walter or whatever is name is hit you up"
"Yeah, that was complicated too. I was such a shitty girlfriend, and yeah he has but I've been ignoring him."
"You weren't a shitty girlfriend Max, I'm sure you were hella awesome. It's not your fault you saw him as just a friend, it's his fault for not knowing how to treat a beautiful girl"
"Man you weren't kidding with the compliments."
"I'm true to my word, and I mean that. You're beautiful max and if any loser can't see that, then fuck em"
"Chloe I-I" Max wasn't use to the way Chloe was talking about her, she couldn't believe someone like Chloe was talking this way about her, it made her insides shiver and shake. She almost didn't want to believe it, mostly because of her own insecurities.
"I'm not that great"
"The hell you are." Chloe said.
"I know I've only known you for a short time, but you make me feel alive again. Being around you Max, it makes me happy and I can't explain why just yet, but it does. If you weren't with me today, I'd still be tripping over what my mom told me in dinner, most likely out drinking until i passed out somewhere"
"Chloe?" Max said in calm tone. "I'm really not that great. I'm glad I can make you feel that way really, because I feel the same with you, like I'm safe or something, but that could be because you helped me when I was down, but I've done nothing for you"
"Max!" Chloe cut in.
"Stop being so hard on yourself" She placed her hand on max leg. "You've done such much in this short time. You've listen to me, and and shown me that you won't give up on me so easily, after not talking to you for a week. Which I'm truly sorry about I'm just an idiot sometimes"
"It's fine" Max added holding herself together while Chloe's hand was still
Placed on her leg.
"You're so beautiful max, and it sucks that you can't see it"
"Can you stop saying that word"
"What beautiful?"
"Yes that"
"No not until you accept it"
"There's nothing to accept"
"Don't make me get extra mushy Caulfield"
"How do you know my last name"
"I asked Rachel, but don't go changing the subject"
Max sighed covering her face.
"Don't hide away that beautiful face"
"Chloe stop!"
"Nope!"
"Please "
"Not until you admit it"
"No"
"Look at me max"
"No"
"Max" Her voice calm as she cuffed max face turning her head to her slowly.
"Look at me max"
Max turning to face Chloe her eyes opening seeing the blue hair punk in front of her. If anyone in this room was beautiful it was Chloe herself.
"What?" max answer back.
"You have really pretty eyes" she smiled as she spoke.
"And your freckles" She stopped as she let out a soft giggle. "There hella fucking cute" Max had no idea what was going on, she sat there listening to Chloe shower her teasing her.
Letting out another giggle, max smirking softly at the sound of Chloe slight laugh. "I like when you smile. It's my second favorite thing about your features" She admitted.
"What's the first" Max asked curiously
"Your lips" Chloe spoke softly as she licked her own lips, staring at Max's wanting to lean in slow. She was thinking straight, she was lost the moment she looked into Max's eyes. Max feeling the same vibe, finding herself staring at Chloe's pick plumped lips, her head leaning slow, Chloe's following behind. Their lips inches apart, max closing her eyes waiting for the kiss that never came. Opening her eyes to see Chloe pull away.
"Sorry" Chloe said shyly. "I-i uhh idk where all that came from sorry.. I should probably go, Rachel might be wondering where I am"
"What?"
"She's been texting like crazy and she'll get annoyed if I don't respond, so I'll see you later"
Max didn't want Chloe to go she desperately wanted this moment to continue, but who was she kidding someone like Chloe wouldn't want to kiss someone like her, but what was that? She was close just inches away.
"I'll text you"
Chloe responded as she walked out the door as max sat there in silence, broken and confused on what just happened.
"Hey, you're back early " Chloe said as she open the door to Rachel room.
"Yeah, parents couldn't sit for 10mins without going at each other."
"Damn that blows. Are you okay?"
Rachel was laying on her bed with her arms folded as stared up the ceiling, Chloe laid down next to her, her head falling near her shoulder. "Hey" Chloe called out as Rachel was spaced out. "Rachel? You alright"
Rachel turned her head and looked down at Chloe. "Yeah, just thinking"
"About?"
Rachel sighed and sat up from the bed. "Why they can't just work things out. They were gone for months trying to fix this damn issue, and they only seem worse than before." | d25509c48acf40788318ee11bd548c52 | ['f89b7842f0f04afb894362f9b962a2ee'] | Everything that Max heard started to relax her to know that the night time her wasn't that bad, feeling a relief. Chloe continued in her story, “After all that Justin just left saying he didn't sign up for all this. Then everyone started drinking again. It was cool, we went back to dancing but this time there was actual music playing.” Chloe's face then turned sour, “Then you threw up.”
“Oh god! I'm so sorry!” Max says in a depressed tone. She knew something bad happened by her to mess up the night. Chloe raises one of her eyebrows and eyes Max.
“I didn't say you did anything bad. Just saying you threw up. You were drunk so it was bound to happen especially for a lightweight like you.” Chloe remarks.
“What about my room though?” Max patiently asks.
“I was just getting to that part. You wanted to leave because you were fairly down at that point. I drove you back to your place but it was messy because you could barely walk on your own. Like you were swaying to every which way. I carried you inside when we got there. I threw you on the bed because you fell as soon as we opened the door and not to mention you kept saying how sorry you were in the hallway. Just so you know, you are a loud drunk. A few people had to come out to tell you to keep it down.” Chloe begins to laugh.
Max remembers earlier when in the bathroom and talking to Victoria. Now what she said made sense. Chloe finishes laughing and continues the story, “You laid in bed then I walked away but you grabbed on to me and didn't want me to leave. It was adorable.”
Max hangs her head down fearing what came next, “Then we cuddled for a few minutes. You got a little hands-y honestly,but that was probably because of the liquor. At least that's my assumption or you just wanted all of this.” Chloe leans back with her hands up looking at Max with seductiveness in her eyes.
Max blushes at the sound of her being such a mess. “Great Max, what a way to make a first impression.” she thinks to herself. She drops her head back into her hands. “Damn it Max.”
“After your moment and you falling asleep, I went to the parking lot and crashed for a little before driving back to Rachel's. Think I got back some time early because the sun was just rising.” Chloe remarks.
“No wonder Rachel said that. Chloe left with her and even stayed in her room. Damn it Max,” Max couldn't shake Rachel out of her head. In her drunkenness she wasn't herself and did things she would never do.
Chloe realizing the time and Max's nerves opens her mouth to form words but struggles. “It was eventful night but I should probably take you back to Blackhell.”
4. Chapter 4
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> So I deleted chapter 4 because I wasn't happy with it, and added a little more detail in it. Not much but, it's extremely noticeable, and hopefully better written. Let me know what you guys think, feedback helps a lot good and bad especially since this is my first FanFiction.
“Chloe, get up already! My parents are on their way back.” Rachel screams from the bottom of the stairs. “You better not still be in bed. I told you before to get up.” The floor begins to shake with Rachel running up the stairs. “Where the hell are you?”
Chloe rolls over in the bed. Covering her ears with the pillow to ignore Rachel's stomping. Rachel rushes through the door and sees Chloe under the blankets, her back turned to her. Fire comes from Rachel's eyes at the sight of Chloe still in bed. She breathes in calmly.
“If you don't get your ass out of that bed! Don't pretend like you haven't heard me this whole time!” Rachel screams at the top of her lungs. Chloe scrunches into a ball under the blankets. Rachel eyes the situation and walks to the end of the bed. “Hope you are wearing clothes this time,” Rachel thinks to herself. She grabs the covers and pulls. Chloe grabs onto the blanket and pulls back. The two play tug of war with the blanket with neither making much ground on the other. Rachel lets go and sigh.
“Stubborn as always,” Rachel says under her breath. Chloe, eyes still closed, she smirks as she pulls the blanket back over her. Rachel crosses her arms with a sour look across her face, eyeing Chloe's smug demeanor under the covers.
“Ok, guess time for my trump card.” Rachel walks over to the dresser and opens the top drawer. She starts shuffling through the door. Chloe raises her head a little bit to see what Rachel is doing. All she sees is Rachel's back to her and her hands frantically moving. Rachel finds what she is looking for and pulls out a sock. Rachel reaches into it and pulls out a bag of weed. She holds it up close to Chloe's direction. Chloe pretends to stay still. “Uh huh, if that's how it is.”
Rachel walks over to the window and opens it. She takes out the papers and rolls a big blunt. Holding it between her fingers she looks back at Chloe's motionless body. She lights the blunt before turning back and looking out the window. The sun shown high in the sky flickered between the leaves of the tree. The breeze that blew through the day felt comforting to Rachel, helping her forget all about the problems she was about to face, such as if Chloe is caught in her house again and explaining the Justin's blood on the floor. |
7b92e8241c56445ab52cf33abe90b224 | ['f8b99f8051a843c3b7e298fab9c03898'] |
The Seductive Revenge
Laughter echoed and the murmurs of conversations vibrated the newsroom. It was Perry’s birthday and everyone was celebrating the milestone.
“You got him checked suspenders again, didn’t you?” Clark asked, with a grin.
Lois turned to him in surprise, “How did you know that, Clark?”
“That’s what you got him last year.”
“No seriously- “Lois started to say, when she saw Perry making his way towards them.
“Happy Birthday, Perry!” Lois exclaimed, holding out the gift-wrapped box.
“Thank you, Lois.” Perry replied, as he took the gift and gently shook it. “Let me see…checkered suspenders!”
“Umm, why do you say that, Perry?” Lois asked, blushing slightly.
“Lois, I didn’t get to be Editor of a great paper by not knowing everything that goes on in my Newsroom.” Perry replied with a grin. “I could always use more suspenders but maybe next year one with the King on it.”
“Sure thing, Perry,” Lois said, as she walked away from him.
Clark quickly followed her, trying to hold in his laughter.
“Not one word, Kent,” Lois muttered.
“You could jot down what you get him, so that you don’t repeat it next year.” Clark suggested, with a small chuckle.
“Of course, you always have a suggestion for everything, don’t you, Clark?” Lois snapped. “Well, what did you get him? An Elvis tie?”
Silence.
“Clark?”
She turned to find him focused on something else but he stood staring blankly at her.
“Clark!” Lois said, in an exasperated voice. “At least try to pretend that you’re paying attention to me.”
“Lois, I’ll be right back.” Clark replied quickly, as he rushed away from her.
“Where are you going, Clark?”
“I-I forgot to pick up Perry’s birthday card and you can’t give a gift without one. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Clark called out, racing towards the elevator.
Lois watched his mad dash out of the newsroom. Same old Clark… always running taking off in the middle of a conversation. She had hoped that after their first date, things would have changed but…
“Jimmy, did you pick up a card- never mind. I found it,” Lois called out, noticing the slim blue envelope tucked into the pocket of her bag.
She pulled it free and turned it over. The envelope slipped to the floor and she quickly picked it up. “Oh, my god,” Lois whispered, shocked.
_It couldn’t be but the truth was there for her to see, written her own hand writing- **Clark is Superman.**_
It certainly explained everything… the disappearing acts, Superman and Clark never appearing together and all the hot scoops…
Clark was Superman… Clark, her partner, Mr. Mild Mannered Reporter was Superman!
Shock turned quickly to fury. He had lied to her right from the beginning! How could he have done that? She had told him about her crush on Superman and all that time he had said nothing … Oh, he was a dead man when she got her hands on him. Why didn’t he say anything, especially after they started dating each other?
Lois paced angrily, going over every conversation, every detail of times spent with both Clark and Superman. _Why didn’t he tell me?_
“Well, Mr. Kent, it’s pay back time,” Lois whispered, her eyes glittering evilly and a wicked smile. “Let’s see how long you can keep up the pretense of who you are.”
“Jimmy, can you let Clark know that I’m done for the day.” Lois asked, casually. “Oh, and if he happens to see Superman, can he let Superman know that I need to speak with him as soon as possible.”
“Sure, no problem, Lois,” Jimmy replied. “Got a hot lead?”
“Maybe,” Lois replied slyly. _You have no idea, Jimmy, how hot!_
Clark flew back to the Daily Planet, after stopping a deadly highway pile up collision.
Lois is going to flip. Clark thought as he spun back into his suit. He had walked out on her six times in the last four days and he could feel her glare from under the suit. Maybe I should grab some flowers.
“Hey, CK!” Jimmy called out. “Lois’s left for the day.”
Clark cringed slightly; this was definitely not a good sign.
“Did she say anything else?” Clark asked.
“Yeah, something about needing to speak with Superman,” Jimmy replied. “Must be a really hot lead if she needs Superman’s help and she seemed really eager to speak with him.”
“Jimmy, I’ll contact Superman.” Clark said, over his shoulder as he walked rapidly away.
_Bbrring… bbrring…bbrring_
“Lois Lane’s desk.”
“Hi Jimmy, it’s me. Has Clark got back yet?”
“Are you psychic?” Jimmy asked, surprised. “He just got in and left to find Superman for you.”
“Perfect, thanks Jimmy,” Lois said with a chuckle. “Bye!”
“Bye, Lois,” Jimmy echoed, shaking his head as he hung up the phone.
Lois glanced around her apartment. Everything had been set up just right for what was going to happen.
She had lit a dozen scented candles and the delicate scent of jasmine filled the room. The glow of the candlelight added a romantic aura but it was the seductive sounds of a sax playing that filled the apartment with an erotic vibe.
A sudden burst of air rushed into the room, causing the candles to flicker. Lois closed her eyes briefly, a small smile trailed across her face. _Show time!_
She spun around with a surprised gasp.
He stood just inside of her apartment beside the window, arms crossed.
“Oh Superman. I didn’t think that you would have come so quickly. If I had known, I would have been dressed more; well I wouldn’t be wearing my nightgown.” Lois babbled, allowing one of the thin straps to slide slowly off her shoulder. | 32520ca5ea554de8bad3977023b2692b | ['f8b99f8051a843c3b7e298fab9c03898'] |
A Captain's Protocol
“Kathryn, do you mind lending me some of your books. I’ve read the ones that I have and I don’t want to waste any replicator rations.” Chakotay asked, as he waited for Kathryn to emerge from her bedroom. “Especially, since someone, who will remain unnamed ‘borrows’ so many rations for coffee.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chakotay. I don’t borrow rations I acquire rations,” Kathryn called out with a small laugh. “Captain’s fee.”
“Really, I’ll have to remember that. “ Chakotay responded thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll start charging a First Officer’s fee.”
“Great idea, Chakotay, that way I can increase mine! Get started on that plan right away, Commander.” Kathryn ordered. “Image, I could have coffee all the time then.”
“As opposed to now?” Chakotay shot back, laughing, “Kathryn, if you drank any more coffee per day, you’d turn into a giant coffee bean or become allergic to it.”
“Bite your tongue, Commander.” Kathryn growled playfully. “The books that you wanted are on the table, Chakotay.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“No, go ahead. I’ve finished reading all of those and I’ll even let you have the replicator rations, as your benevolent leader.” Kathryn replied, as she stepped out of her bedroom, dressed in her uniform.
“How generous of you!” Chakotay replied, bowing down before her, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Thank you, my Queen.”
“Chakotay! What have I told about bringing that up?” Kathryn sputtered, glaring at him as she blushed.
“I remember, but you look so cute when you blush,” he responded with a grin.
“Starfleet Captain’s are not cute! One day, Chakotay,” she teased,” someone going to take you down a peg for your warped sense of humor.”
“I thought that was your job, to keep me in my place,” Chakotay responded, as he reached forward and grabbed the dozen books stacked in a tidy pile.
“Oh, it is, but one day I’ll let Paris have a go at it,” Kathryn threatened mockingly.
“No, you wouldn’t. You enjoy it too much to let someone else have that much fun.” Chakotay snickered.
She smacked him lightly on the shoulder, “Back to work, minion.”
“At once, my Qu-“ He replied, flashing a dimpled smile at her.
“Chakotay!”
The sound of their laughter echoed through out the room.
* * *
Later that evening, Chakotay was trying to decide which novel to read. Period Romances seemed to be Kathryn’s favorite. Pride and Prejudice; Wuthering Heights; Sense and Sensibility; all well read but carefully cared for. He shifted through them until he came to the last one in the pile.
It was a plain, creamy brown leather bound book. Void of any writing on the cover to hint at the story concealed within its pages. Intrigued, he carefully opening it and saw the delicate handwriting flowing across each page. Sitting down, he began to read it, not realizing at first the gift that he held within his hands.
* * *
***The Array***
_I was stunned at the attraction that I felt when I first saw the Maquis Captain I had been sent to capture. The image of him on the view screen was nothing compared to the seeing he standing proudly before her. His rich, dark eyes filled with anger as he stepped towards Paris._
Kathryn’s Diary. If she ever found that, he had read this he was a dead man. He should return it to her but was compelled by a force greater than him to read forward. He would only read the first page and then put it aside.
_Pressing against him, I fought for control. A wave of longing swept over me and I barely managed to stop my body from arching against him. I tried to remind myself of Mark but the image of the leather clad Maquis overwhelmed me. He had captured me within his heated gaze and I couldn’t break free. I had been sent to capture him but I knew that it was the other way around. I was captivated by him and I wasn’t trying that hard to escape._
She had felt it too. That instant connection between them. He could still picture their first meeting vividly. He had been full of anger and ready to knock Paris on his arrogant ass when this tiny pint size, auburn haired captain stepped in to the fray. A feisty, brave woman that captured his attention the minute he had seen her on the viewscreen and heard her husky voice call out his name.
When her hand had slapped hard against his chest and he wanted nothing more than to grab her and press her close to him. Spirits only knew how if restrained himself. He found himself following her, completely enthralled by her grace, beauty and caring.
He knew he should stop reading before Kathryn discovered the Diary missing and came after him with phaser ready but if he already in trouble what would a few more pages do…
* * *
***New Earth***
_Ever since we had been stranded on this idyllic paradise, Chakotay had been creating things to make our lives more comfortable. I felt him give up on us every finding a cure and leaving New Earth. I was so angry with him! How could he just give up? Didn’t he want to return home?_
_Instead of trying to find a cure, he was creating a home for us here, not willing to sacrifice the present for a future that might not happen. I refused to give up until the very last moment when fate took that choice away from me later that day. Everything had been destroyed, all my work and equipment, gone in a matter of minutes. I disparately clung to him; he was my strength and shelter from the storm. Some one that I could depend when all I wanted to do was curl into tiny ball and hide from the world..._ |
25c895ca7c8b46a688054e95ada6028d | ['f90f28c8a29943a48fb2ccca3d42b1ff'] | Her keys were by the door, you only forget to bring the keys to your apartment on a run in the middle of the night once. Obviously, no-one else was hallways of the apartment building, well except for Mr. Simmons who worked night-shifts at the 24hr supermarket uptown. She waved politely, their crossing paths as they tried to not wake their fellow neighbours was a regular thing between them now.
Ellie really wished that this was unique occurrence, but unfortunately, that wasn't the case. The dreams happened a lot. And the reason why she referred to them as dreams, not nightmares - only to herself of course, she obviously wasn't going to be telling anyone about them - was because sometimes they weren't as morbid as tonight's dream. Sometime they were really mundane, like seriously, so boring. There was the one where she and her friend April skipped class in 11th grade to go sunbathing by Stark's Pond, which resulted in a sunburn she had to explain to her grandparents, obviously, they were pissed. That was one of the few that she remembered. Normally by this point in the jog she'd would forget what had freaked her out so much in the first place, as was the case that night. Which is actually a pretty common thing, you normally forget a dream not long after waking up. I'm not sure the exact amount of time, but you could probably google if you were that interested to find out.
And so she ran. Sure saying she 'was running away from her problems' was a bit cliche, but hey, if the shoe fits.
Besides, there were worse places to live than Salem, Massachusetts. Sure all those poor innocent men and women died there, but what state has a perfect history? And the trials were 300 years ago, America has done worse things since then. Seriously, so much worse.
The neighbourhood they lived in was nice enough. I mean, nobody's ever got stabbed, well not recently anyway. And it was only twenty minutes away from Grangewood Manor, where she worked, so that was convenient.
She would home by five o'clock but be too strung up to go back to sleep straight away. So she'd doodle. Her definition of doodling being putting what could be considered too much effort into drawing some guy in an old, worn-out trucker hat. Why she decided to give herself the agony of trying to draw facial hair she would never quite understand. You just have to suffer for your art, I suppose.
Henry would find her a few hours later sprawled out on the couch, running shoes still on, out for the count. He would chuckle to himself about the awkward positioning of her limbs and the tiny little dribble of drool running down her cheek. He would take the knitted quilt off the back of the couch, he thinks Ellie's grandmother gave it to them as a moving in present, and cover her with it.
He went by the assumption that these nightly outings had be going on long before they knew each-other. They had met in college, he was completely hammered, she humoured him.
He would kiss her forehead and brush a stray strand of hair out of her face. He'd let her sleep for another hour before she'd definitely need to get ready for work. And then he'd make himself a coffee, take a shower and get dressed. By then she'd be up and complaining about her sore neck. He'd make a wisecrack, she'd call him a douchecanoe. Then he'd say something in Spanish and then of course she'd have to return the favour. After their five minutes of flirting in a foreign language, she'd kiss him once, twice, three times before she really was going to be late to work. With a great theatricality she'd tell him that she would have to love him and leave him before agreeing that he'd make dinner that night.
They'd kiss one last time, she'd grab her umbrella because she wouldn't like the look of those clouds and be out the door.
Now I could leave you with a cheesy-ass line about how everything in Ellie Robinson's world was about to change. But that's cliche as fuck so I'll tell you this instead. You never know when life is going to turn around and punch you in the throat, but them's the works, kids. But if Ellie Robinson had known how bad things were going to go tits up, she sure as hell would never have gone in to work that day. | 9fae77bd23da4c09880790944b5ece40 | ['f90f28c8a29943a48fb2ccca3d42b1ff'] |
Tess heard the news 10 minutes before homeroom.
Hannah and Jenny had found her by her locker, trying to find her Chemistry notes. Hannah nudged her, clearly excited about something. Although, that wasn't anything new. "So have you heard?"
"Heard what?" She replied, not really paying attention. Goddammit, if Isaac hadn't put her chem-notes back-
Hannah raised an beautifully maintained eyebrow, the disbelief evident in her voice. "About the body?"
That caught Tess's attention. She looked between them. "Body? What body? There's a dead body?"
"Yeah, they found it last night."
Holy shit. Like holy actual shit. "Well whose is it? Where is it?" A thought occurred to her. "Wait, is this legit or is it just like the time someone spread that rumour that Daisy Sykes had got crushed to death by a bus when really she was just in a minor car accident and her arm was broken? Cause people friggin' cried when she walked into homeroom. This school cannot handle another Daisy Sykes-incident, Hannah."
"Nope, it's legit, couple of joggers found her." Jenny chipped in, not looking up from her phone. The Beacon Hills Police Department still hadn't released an 'official' statement, but word had already spread pretty quickly. She was currently informing Lydia of what they knew so far, which wasn't much.
Tess pointed to silence her, not that it would make a difference. "We can discuss the gritty details later." She pointed back to Hannah and then turned back to her locker. "You, keep talking."
And almost as if they had a sixth sense about students doing things that they shouldn't, it was as this exact moment a couple of teachers walked by, causing the three girls to act as nonchalant as possible, which quite frankly wasn't very. Hannah lowered her voice, this wasn't exactly a school-appropriate conversation they were having here. "Some girl in the woods. Grisly too."
"How grisly?" Ah, there were her notes, Isaac Lahey would live to see another day.
The blonde grimaced, disgusted yet excited at the same time. "'They're still looking for parts of her' grisly."
"God." Tess closed the locker-door and turned to lean against it. "How do you even know about this?"
"Pat." She took out her phone, showing Tess the text. "He heard it off of Stiles."
"Stilinski?" Tess frowned, looking up from the screen and back to her.
"No, Stiles Smith." Hannah leaned against the locker beside her as she smacked her arm. "Of course Stilinski."
Tess raised a hand in mock-surrender as she went back to reading. "Sorry, just surprised his dad's let him know so much." Ouch, that kinda hurt.
"Kids hear shit." Hannah shrugged, putting her phone away.
Well, she was right about that. God knows she knew way too much about the human body. Hell, Jackson had probably heard enough from his dad that he could hold his own when (and it was only a matter of when) he found himself in a police cell. Seriously, he had nearly hit so many people with that goddamn Porshce. How anyone had thought it was a good idea to give him a license escaped her. Tess tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. "Still, you'd never think something like that could happen here. I always thought Beacon Hills was pretty quiet." Well, there was what happened with the Hale family a few years back, but stuff like that was one-off kind of tragedy.
Hannah sighed. "Yeah well, I guess you never know your neighbours."
They stood there quietly, the atmosphere suddenly somber. Finding out there may very well be a murderer on the loose in your town will often do that to you. That is until Jenny piped up, her job of spreading the news done.
"So." She put her phone in her pocket. "Homeroom?"
"Can't, I'm showing the new girl around." Tess shrugged apologetically as she picked up her bag. "You know taking her to classes and stuff."
Jenny beamed, her sarcasm tangible as she cooed. "Aw, our Theresa, the model citizen." She squeezed her cheek.
"I know, I'm wonderful." Tess deadpanned as she removed her hand. Goddammit Jenny had strong fingers, she'd be feeling that one for days. Damn violinists.
She shrugged. "Maybe we could invite her to come on Friday, you know, make her feel welcome."
"And that, Jennifer Chang, is why you're the nice one." She saluted just as the bell rang. "See ya."
While we're here, these are some things you might like to know about our, and I'm using the term loosely here, heroine.
First of all, she and her parents lived in Beacon Hills, a town in which pretty much fuck-all happened. Which is why the gruesome murder of some girl was such hot gossip. It was pretty deal to a town like their's.
Second, in less than two painstakingly slow months, she'd finally have her braces off. At long last she could eat apples, chew gum and drink soda in copious quantities. Yep, she'd be living the dream.
And lastly, Theresa didn't know this at the time, but she was named after her mother's first girlfriend. Though that last one isn't at all relevant to the plot, more of a fun fact really.
Now you may be asking yourself why this little snippet of this random teenager's life is of such importance. And if you stop asking questions about and let me get to establishing the world in which our story is set, I'll tell you.
For you see, in the months to follow our motley crew of protagonists will look back on this seemingly average Monday and realise that this was in fact their last 'normal day'. Sure events were already in motion before this, and some wouldn't be dragged into the fray until further down the line, but it was this moment, this insignificant Monday morning. That was when the world changed for Beacon Hills. And they knew, that from this day on, they were fucked. |
38bcfca751ec4f788057c3d2fcdfa1b0 | ['f913e4d23c5340cb8c6f12d5e6a84116'] |
I Love You Like You Love the Stars
It’s their first date. They didn’t plan on doing something fancy that would be too weird. No, for they first date they decided to walk on the lovely path beside the river and enjoy the last week of summer. After all, the leaves are already turning different shades of copper. A little something calm that would allow them to go with the flow without any kind of pressure. After all, that’s what they do best.
It’s a fine morning and the sun is shining on a bright blue sky. It looks like the sky has been painted with the finest brush, its color deep and airy with no clouds to be seen. It feels like today is theirs and theirs only. The sun’s rays hit Shirakawa’s face and Carlos cannot help but stare. Burgundy hair framing perfectly his feature, the light caressing his face and accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw; Shirakawa is truly the epitome of astounding. Carlos feels his heart skip a beat and his eyes widen unconsciously. It isn’t like he never knew the other second year was gorgeous but, under the sun, the smaller man looks absolutely breathtaking.
The bright blue suddenly turns to grey and the colors are drained. Feeling rain drops on his nose, the centerfielder raises his head to see dark clouds invading the sky and covering the sun. It only takes a few minutes before the rain falls hard on the ground making it wet and slippery. Synchronized, Carlos and Shirakawa look at each other taking in the sight of the other completely soaked to bone. Tears of laughter mingle with the water streaming down their hair and face as their body shake with their amusement. Looking around they spot a large building close to where they stand. They head toward it and as they enter the building, the first thing they see is a giant banner covered in planets that says in big letters TOKYO’S PLANETARIUM – WELCOME. Shirakawa’s eyes linger on the colorful banner with a tiny smile tugging his lips. Oh, this is new.
Leisurely walking around the planetarium they find the ‘Universe’ aisle and the simulation room which, after taking Carlos’ hand, the shortstop frantically runs to. Letting Shirakawa lead him the taller man giggles to himself. Seeing Shirakawa so excited for anything other than baseball was a first; especially considering that there wasn’t any anger or intensity in it. It is a gentle excitement, naïve and innocent like a kid receiving one of those giant lollipops. The smaller teen chooses the seats and tugs at Carlos’ arm signaling him to sit down beside him. It seems like the red head already knows what is to come, anticipation submerging him. The room’s lights dim and close leaving the two teens holding hands in the darkness. Carlos momentarily thank god no one can see his blush. The screen soon lights up, covering the walls and the ceiling. Letting their heads rest on the top of their seat, they look above them; Shirakawa’s eyes are burning with interest and passion as the Milky Way makes its way on the screen. The shortstop’s face soften up, a wide smile stretching his lips. As they travel through the ever-expanding universe, Carlos can feel joy emanating from Shirakawa; so pure and beautiful. Just like a child.
The screen’s scenery changes showing the Earth’s night sky and all its stars. The red head points the constellations murmuring their names and stories in Carlos’ ear. Never before has Shirakawa’s voice sounded so warm and lively, never before has Shirakawa been so utterly absorbed in his own stories. Unaware, Carlos tightens his grip around the other’s hand almost clamping it. It’s only when he feels the shortstop’s own hand pressing back against his that he realizes it. Smiling like a fool he wishes they would never let go of each other. Shirakawa is still rumbling about constellations after the simulation ends but the brunette cannot bring himself to tease him, too afraid it would make the dazzling smile fade away. They stay until the planetarium closing hours and walk back to the dorms. It feels a little bit surreal how happy they were all through the day, the rush of being so close for so many hours slowly decreasing.
Sitting in his bed, his arms folded behind his head the brunette ponders on ways to make Shirakawa’s face brighten up one more time. Ways to be the reason the red head would irradiate joy anew. Coincidentally, a few days later Carlos recalls an interesting fact on his teammate. He recalls Shirakawa telling him in their first year at Inashiro that he had to leave his telescope behind. Thinking back, the teen doesn’t remember seeing Shirakawa with a telescope this year either. An idea forms in his head. Yes, he found what he would do to make the shortstop golden eyes shine.
September 6th arrives quickly enough and Carlos is restlessly waiting for the day to end. The hours seem endless and too short. Going through practice is nerve-wracking and the centerfielder tries his damnest to pretend he’s in control. Finally, 9’oclock rings and Carlos is filled with anxiety, his hands slightly shaking but mostly he is eager to give Shirakawa his gift. They meet outside the dorms and the brunette leads the way to a hill away from the too bright city lights. Trying to calm down he breathes deeply and disappear behind a tree. He comes back with a large box and put it down in front of the red head. Curious, Shirakawa takes a step forward and open the box. Next thing Carlos knows is that the ever so stoic shortstop is tackling him and muttering “thank you” like a chant. Hiding his face in Carlos’ neck Shirakawa take several seconds to compose himself. Slowly detaching himself from the taller teen, he gets the telescope out of the box and starts to install it in the grass. Shirakawa enthusiastically looks through the scope shouting stars’ name. Afterwards, they settle down on the barely damp meadow. Carlos looks up and stares at the stars glistening above him. It makes him think of a sea made of blue velvet and constellations. He never knew such a sky was possible. Beside him Shirakawa seems just as bewildered as he is. Scrutinizing an already well-known stratosphere and tracing invisible lines between the luminous orbs, the shorter man surely is resplendent. The red head looks like all of his worried have melted away and his expression is positively ecstatic. Carlos thinks to himself that Shirakawa really fits with the scenery as he is a thousand times more brilliant than any of those stars. The smaller teen turns his head to Carlos; a smile tugging the corner of his lips and locks his eyes with the taller man. The centerfielder can literally feel time stopping and everything freezing around him. He stares at those eyes that make him feel caged and free at the same time; those eyes that were always both kind and fierce. An antithesis he couldn’t help but believe was so representative of Shirakawa himself. Those same eyes that reflected fire and honey are now holding the universe within them. As he keeps gazing in the shortstop’s eyes he swears he can see every single galaxy. He forgets to breathe for a while, willingly drowning himself in a stream of golden nebulas. Looking at him, Carlos immediately thinks that he could do anything for this boy. He would paint stars on the night veil every night if he had to. He would create entire galaxies just to have the chance of seeing Shirakawa’s eyes light up with innocence and awe. Carlos thinks he would go as far as offering the shortstop the universe in its entirety if it would make him as much as grin. Time and life regain their normal flow and the centerfielder feels dizzy. It’s exactly at this moment that Carlos realizes he is completely and thoroughly in love with the shorter teen. The discovery hits him like a punch in the guts and, still looking straight into Shirakawa’s eyes, he blurts out a muffled “I love you.” So low and quiet Shirakawa doesn’t hear him. Then he clears his throat and tells himself to dive in this new adventure as a few words escape his lips.
_“I love you like you love the stars.”_
**Author's Note:**
> Hello! It is my first time writing for this pairing! I love them a lot and I hope I managed to do them justice. Feedback would be appreciated as always. Hopefully you liked it!
>
> Special thanks to Sy who helped me correct my god awful mistakes. | 8381833b6e0b4d86b0d8c5b69f04a211 | ['f913e4d23c5340cb8c6f12d5e6a84116'] |
He Found Home
It’s their first time having sex and, of course, both of them are a little bit nervous. Since Mei has already done these kinds of thing, he proposes to ride Eijun. Taking the lead he rolls the condom on the brunette’s cock and straddles his hips. He takes his time sinking in, waiting a few minutes before he is fully sheathed. The second year begins to move, rising and falling to an even rhythm. Of course, Eijun worries about his well-being, knowing that although Inashiro’s ace has experience it doesn’t mean he cannot feel pain. He asks him like a caring litany “Are you okay? Are you feeling good? Am I doing this right?” and Mei knows nothing he can say would calm down the first year, knows only gesture will have any effect. With Eijun, it has always been this way, that maxim proving to be true: “Actions speak louder than words.”
Mei gently takes the brunette’s hand with his own, bringing it to cup his cheek. He leans in the touch, kisses that hand. Eijun’s palm is sweaty; he can tell how nervous he is about this. The blond wants Eijun to feel good above all, to make his first time memorable and outstanding. He wants to make it easy for the first year. He looks at him, eyes gazing in a golden sea. Smiling, he tells Eijun how much he loves him, how good he makes him feel. He keeps his pace slow; to make sure the brunette doesn’t come too fast. Eijun’s hand still in his he brings it to his mouth and kisses each knuckle, eyes locked.
Going slow for once felt good, Eijun’s cock slipping out and slamming back in completely. He didn’t hit that spot, it was their first time after all, but doing it with the person he loved the ace couldn’t help but feel utter elation. It takes his breathe away how intense it made him felt, having Eijun hard inside of him. Bending, Mei takes a stray of brown hair that had gone in front of the pitcher’s eyes and puts it back behind his ear. He runs his hands through Eijun’s brown locks delicately, like a caress. Slowly bringing his face close to the first year, he takes the opportunity to observe. Observe his mouth ajar, panting, leaving small moans. Observe the curve of his neck, his head thrown back forming the most delectable sight. A sight so beautiful he can’t stop the finger tracing lightly the moist lips of the younger teen.
Mei feels in trance, incapable of escaping the spell Eijun put on him through the expression painted on his face. An expression that tensed in pleasure the sharp features of Seidou’s pitcher, making it both decadent and pure. The younger teen's face is like an oxymoron, hell and heaven merging with harmony. An ideal that the blond could only reach through the curved and inviting lines of the body writhing underneath his. There is a sensuality emanating from the brunette that Mei would have never thought possible. The second year feels captured, tamed by the smoothness of Eijun’s skin, his eyes reflecting a tender affection and the lascivious look on his face. The pitcher is his jailer and the older teen feels like he could grant him anything as taken as he is by the taller teen’s body. The emotions he feels provoke a thousand delights inside of him.
He moves his hips faster, adjusting his pace to the insane one of his heart. Every push is like drinking a sip of wine and the ace quickly feels intoxication take him. A violent desire overtakes him, one of feeling Eijun inside and around him; to feel him everywhere. The softness of their love-making starts to fade away, leaving two bodies clashing on each other like waves on the shore. Pleasure is winning over the wish to go slow. Unable to stop, the smaller teen is reduced to hope Eijun feels as satisfied as he does. The room gets filled with never-ending grunts and moans; the air grows thicker with heat and the smell of sweat. All that can be heard are screams growing in intensity.
Between blond strays of hair and in the midst of a frantic rhythm, the Inashiro student manages to look at Eijun. He almost gives in under the burning gaze of the brunette staring right back at him. Mei can read in the of the pitcher’s eyes that the exaltation he feels, the pleasure increasing exponentially and raw desire, everything, are shared. At this exact moment, Mei murmurs how much he loves the other and Eijun comes hard in a last thrust.
As soon as he comes back from his high, he begins apologizing profusely, still inside the older teen. But how could he have last? Last when the world was spinning around him; last when Mei was providing him the most voluptuous pleasure, hot and tight around him. Sitting, Eijun feels like jelly, like all the strength in his body has left him. It really is a small death, like the French say. Looking around he spots Mei who had started jerking off. The pressure heightening, the ace is on the edge of release but his sole hand is far from being enough. Not after having Eijun filling him up. The first year closes in and replaces Mei’s hands by his, stroking his cock. It doesn’t take long before the second year comes over his stomach, breathless and smiling.
Cleaning up and throwing the soiled condom, they puts on their boxers and go back to lie in the bed. Eijun traces patterns on the older teen’s back, subs his hips and makes sure he isn’t hurting. Their legs are interlaced and they are facing each other, foreheads touching. They close their eyes, chest rising and falling at a mild speed they wait for the sandman to welcome them to the world of dreams.
And as he dreams, a tiny smile grows on Mei’s lips making the smaller teen looks impossibly content. He dreams of Eijun, of the night they just spent together and all the emotions roaming inside his heart. It feels like they found something in each other, something warm and soothing. Mei wonders what it is he found in the other boy, and then it hits him.
_He feels like he found home._
**Author's Note:**
> Sorry the beginning is rushed, I don't really know how to introduce sex? I'll work on that! I hope you liked it nevertheless! Feedback would be very nice! Thank you for taking the time of reading. |
7fe25d29ed794f4d9e8372750530707b | ['f91acfe5dee345ff8fa6504b7f81f269'] |
Going through Changes
An audible groan leaves my lips as the rays of the morning sun wake me from my slumber. I was far from ready to be awake however that damned ball of fire refused to cease its horrific assault on my dreaming. My body is heavy as I slowly lift myself up and swing my legs off the side of my rather comfortable bed. I rub my eyes as I look down at myself and curse. Smooth porcelain skin, slender legs, wide hips, and a pair of perky breasts. Of course I changed in my sleep again, I seem to lose control of my power when I get tired. It would also explain why my hair is currently in my eyes. I close my eyes and take a breath as my body begins to slowly change, gone was the softness and perfect skin. It was replaced with a very athletic body, not an ounce of excess fat could be seen as my musculature returned to me. A small amount of body hair returned as I smirk, it is my definition of the perfect male body and I didn’t even have to work to gain it. Sadly it came with the side effect of sometimes being unable to control the changes but I certainly cannot complain about my situation.
I stand up and stretch allowing my muscles to relax from their rather tense state I take a few moments as I dress for the morning. I make my way downstairs and into the kitchen. Sitting at the table is a very attractive blonde teen. A smirk graces her face as she sips at her mug of coffee. God I hate that grin, it makes me feel as if she knows something that she shouldn’t. Knowing her abilities that statement is probably true, but she is still remarkably useful and a rather loyal friend. I ignore her as I rummage through the cabinets for a moment looking for my box of cereal and a frown crosses my face. I hear a soft chuckle from behind me, it’s rather light but I know it was from her. “Lisa did you eat the rest of the fucking cereal?”
I don’t need to turn around to know that the smirk on her face grew larger as she heard the obvious irritation lacing my voice. I sigh under my breath and turn around to face the current target of my displeasure. An arrogant smirk still on her face as she sips her coffee. I notice her eyes linger on my exposed chest “I have no idea what you’re speaking about David. You know I’m not really a fan of Lucky Charms.”
I cross my arms over my chest and a smirk of my own appears as I catch her checking me out “No, but you do enjoy being a massive pain in my ass. Though you don’t generally lie to me. So where the hell did you hide it?”
A loud laugh leaves her lips as she stands up and walks over to me, a slight sway in her hips that I can’t help but watch in fascination. Damn teenage hormones. She then reaches down and into a lower cabinet her lithe frame just inches from my own causing my breath to quicken. She then pulls away quickly which makes me feel as if I were just doused in ice cold water. In her hand is my box of cereal which I quickly snatch from her and turn around trying to calm myself. She definitely knew exactly what I was feeling due to her annoying fucking powers. I silently pour myself a bowl of cereal with a bit of milk from the fridge. I do my level best to keep from looking at her, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of my anger.
I look up after a couple of minutes and catch her looking at my exposed chest again, a smirk graces my face as I decide to get back at her “My eyes are up here you know Lisa”
A faint blush graces her cheeks for a moment before a devious smirk pulls at her lips “I’m just appreciating the show.” She stands up and moves her hands down her body, my eyes glued to her form “Much like how you do every time you see me”
“Don’t flatter yourself too much Lisa, or else someone will think you’ve got a rather big head” I roll my eyes at her antics having already gotten used to our daily banter.
“I’ll take that as a compliment then David.” Every trace of teasing leaves her face as she sits back down. She puts her hands on top of mine causing me to look off to the side “I heard you last night David.”
I pull my hands back and avoid looking directly at her, I know that if I do I’ll break down “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about Lisa.”
I hear her sigh as she gently squeezes my hands once she gets a hold of them again. Damn her powers telling her exactly what I need right now “We’re all worried David it’s getting worse. You’ve already got trouble with controlling your powers when awake. What happens if you can’t return back to this. It’s like you’re a completely different person when you change.”
“Lisa my ability to change how I look makes our jobs much easier. It’s made us a lot of money recently.” I take a few moments to make sure that none of the others are around to hear us and in a much quieter voice “And we both know what Coil will do to me if I stop using my powers as much”
She puts her face in her hands sighing under her breath “We really are fucked when it comes to him aren’t we?” | d37a849cf05f41db9b8b38bf99dabd9d | ['f91acfe5dee345ff8fa6504b7f81f269'] | “Anyways I should head out I would like to get home without any issues and I live on the other side of the city.” Matt brushes off his pants and grabs his bag before turning towards Amy and Vicky “Hopefully I’ll be seeing you two soon. It was a fun talking with you two.” Amy smiles and nods and everyone says goodbye as Amy walks him to the door, and what happens next shocks every person there. Once Matt is almost out the door Amy quickly leans in and pecks him on the lips. It was over before Matt had any time to react, an atomic blush covers both his and Amy’s faces at her action. Everyone is stunned at the rather aggressive action from the normally timid girl. Amy then realizing what she just did quickly pushes him out the door leaving Matt to think to himself ‘Damn her lips are soft’.
* * *
Matt hums to himself as he practically skips through the streets of Brockton Bay. He is fairly confident in himself normally, and he knows that he is an attractive guy. However, it’s been a while since a girl had approached him like Amy did. It is honestly refreshing, he is used to always being the one to make the first move. This changes things for him though, at first he was looking at Amy as just being a good friend. With the kiss though everything changes. Even if Matt has kept himself distant from most people for the last few years, he is still a teenage boy at the end of the day and a pretty girl liking him affects him.
Matt is broken from his thoughts he hears a crash along with a scream a few blocks over. At first he ignores it not wanting to get involved on his first night, but then he took in his surroundings. He’s almost home and this is the Docks so he is in ABB territory. ‘Fuck, Lung could be out. I really shouldn’t get involved.’
However when he hears another crash along with a roar his body moves into action. He quickly puts his domino mask on, not wasting time with the rest of his shoddy outfit, and rushes towards the sounds of the fight.
* * *
Matt uses Victoria’s power to fly on top of a building above the fight to take in the situation. It is absolutely the worst case scenario, Standing tall is a half-transformed Lung and a group of teens are shakily standing, obviously exhausted with even a short fight. ‘No surprise there Lung is one of the strongest people in Brockton Bay’ Matt thinks to himself trying to decide on a plan.
‘It seems that Lung is alone so I could probably take him out one on one. But I’m not sure if my power will completely erase the changes he’s already gone through or if it will just stop him from escalating further. Damn it this is bad.’ Matt curses to himself as the group of teens move to attack the dragon.
Matt is so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice that someone is standing behind him now and is startled when he hears a voice that he thinks is familiar “Which side of this fight are you on? Don’t move or I will take you down”
‘Fuck I didn’t notice her. And I can’t use my power because she’ll attack before I can get her in my sights. I’ve got to hope she’s on my side at least’ Matt curses to himself before going out on a limb and telling the truth “Neither, but I’m not about to let Lung kill those kids”
A moment of silence ensues but the unease leaves Matt as she responds “Ok good seems we’re on the same side then. So how are we going to handle this”
Matt turns around and takes in the woman’s appearance, she’s obviously new at this with how shabby her costume is. “I’m a Trump I’ll fight Lung one on one and you find spots to assist.”
“I have complete control over insects I’ll use your distraction to pump him full of poison to hopefully overcome his healing factor and knock him out.” the girl responds immediately wasting no time as the battle below them seems to turn south for the teens who are now on their knees.
“I’m Eraser let’s do this” Matt immediately flies down and lands between Lung and the group of teens. He quickly cocks his head towards them “Get out of here I’ll handle Lung for now” He is then thrown back by a massive fist colliding with his body. He crashes into a nearby building but stands up immediately, brushing off the dust on his pants and cracking his neck. ‘Ok so it takes about fifteen seconds for my invulnerability to return. I can’t afford to get hit twice then that would definitely kill me.’
He locks eyes with Lung who roars as he is swarmed with bugs. The girl who is now standing across the alley is putting her full focus on Lung. ‘Maybe she has a maximum range?’ Matt shakes his thoughts off and flies into the swarm hitting Lung with an enhanced punch sending him reeling back a few feet but staying on his feet. ‘Fuck it hurts to hit him and I’ve got Vicky’s strength right now. And of fucking course my power won’t reverse his transformation.’
Matt then ducks underneath a tail swipe and backflips back onto his feet it is then that Lung screams in pain and falls to his knees. A smirk crosses Matt’ face ‘She must have gotten a bug into his eyes that’s vicious I love it’
It is then that a large armored man comes in on a motorcycle. He gets off and grabs a helbred off of the side before approaching both him and the girl. “What’s going on here?” |
b790a065ac6347c39d574c5bdd9a62b3 | ['f926506b02754a17b9dee2f6214d38d8'] | He checked his phone hoping that everything that happened last night was just some sort of dream, but it wasn’t. No ‘good morning’ texts, no reminders to eat, just a bunch of unnecessary notifications. Junhoe took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. Tears started to form but he held it in. He had no time for self - pity, if he didn’t leave home within half an hour, his boss would be blowing his phone up with texts.
Even though it was winter, the sun was shining brightly that morning when he stepped out of his apartment. Everybody was on their way to work, school, getting along with their lives, smiles wide on their faces. Junhoe, on the other hand, was still cold and emotionless.
He got on the bus to work, put his earphones in, blocking out the sounds of the commute. No matter how much he tried to forget about the heartbreak, he couldn’t help but ponder his misfortune. He really only had 2 relationships, a high school sweetheart, and the one that had just ended. Both long term and thus the reason why the poor guy had become a blubbering mess. It seemed like everybody he loved was destined to leave. The universe had never been on his side.
As he looked out the window, a memory of him and his ex came to mind.
“To the man who brought a whole new meaning to my life,
Jacob, you were everything that I asked for. You were something that God decided to spend more time on. I could go on for days to let you know how special you really are. I want to give you the world because you deserve it. I know it took time for you to finally let love back into your life and I remembered how hard it was for you to even start holding my hand. But I promise you that I will protect you and that you and I will always have each other, even when the days get cold.
Happy 4th, my love.
Yours forever,
Leila”
That was the letter she left him during their fourth year of being together. She was out of town for the night and did everything she thought of doing to keep Junhoe happy. She cooked him food that only needed to be microwaved knowing Junhoe wasn’t much of a chef, keeping his regular habits of eating instant food for days on end in mind. She was gone for a week, having left for some business trip, yet still making time to speak to him every night.
Who would’ve thought that that would be the last time he would ever feel loved.
Come to think of it, when she had come back from being away for a week, she began distancing herself. Her texts started to get shorter and less affectionate. Junhoe had chalked it up to her being exhausted from work, but clearly, now he knew that she was falling out of love.
The boy had such a soft spot for her, that he would do anything for her. But that’s what you do in a relationship anyway. You give them your all. Maybe she found someone else? Someone who’d bring her the stars when all she asked for was the moon.
Junhoe managed to let out a sigh and under his breath, he said, “Anything for you to be happy, Lei.”
Work went by the way it supposed to, his colleagues were bickering about which bar they’d be getting drunk at tonight. Just the usual, nothing really changed per se, it’s just that he wasn’t partaking in the noise. The only response his friends got from him were nods and faint ‘I don’t know’s.
“What’s up with you, lover boy?”
“Nothing, I’m just tired.”
“No really, what’s going on? You’re boring today.”
“I’m good, man, I gotta get things done today.”
“You always do, you’re lazy but you always find ways to finish things. Don’t really know how you do it, but-”
“Thanks.”
From there, Junhoe just stared at his screen. Nothing else came out of his mouth that day, he was so distant that his friends started to worry. They were usually carefree and loud when it came to times like this, but, Junhoe was never usually this quiet. It was starting to hurt them seeing him all closed up.
“Junhoe, come with us tonight.”
“I’ll ditch tonight, Hanbin. I’ve got shit to do.” The annoyance in Junhoe’s voice was evident.
Hanbin responded obliviously, “Like what?”
“I just… have things to do.”
“Come on man, you’re not usually like this. Don’t tell me it’s your girl telling you to stay in tonight.”
“Don’t talk about her.”
Hanbin immediately knew what had happened after that. They’ve been friends long enough to know that if Junhoe wanted to be alone, he wanted to be alone. He was an angrier individual if you pushed the wrong buttons when it comes to Junhoe. A lot of pent up anger eventually comes out. With him, his words can sting even the strongest of hearts so Hanbin didn’t want to risk anything that night.
“Alright, if ever you do want to come tonight, just show up. We’ll be there.” Hanbin cautiously decides to reply after Junhoe’s blunt reply. It was as if his soul was burning after Junhoe said those last four words. It wasn’t Hanbin’s fault that they broke up so there wasn’t really anything to worry about.
Junhoe took a deep breath and said, “She broke up with me.”
“Yea, I kinda thought. We got you, dude. We’re always here for you. Plus, she was kinda shady to begin with.”
“I still love her, man…” And as he looked up at Hanbin with his eyes all watery and red, Hanbin knew that this was a different kind of Junhoe. He was a man that looked tired and defeated. He really was broken.
“I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving her.” | 446ab0e7ddf64777ac16e56f6264cfd7 | ['f926506b02754a17b9dee2f6214d38d8'] | After what felt like hours, they finally made it somewhere. Looking around, Junhoe noticed where they finally ended up in, “The cemetery, eh? What is she supposed to do here?” he mumbled against his breath.
Jinae still didn’t take the initiative to turn around and tell the confused boy what she needed to do there in the first place. She walked towards one of the columbariums and took the flowers out of her bag. Jinae looked behind her and Junhoe was gone.
“Damn, she really is weird. Where is she?”, he looked around trying to see where Jinae went. He felt slightly uneasy being around a cemetery, so he chose to wait outside instead.
And after a few minutes, Jinae came out. Flowers no longer in her bag and a soft smile appeared on her face. “You’re still here?”, she yelled out to Junhoe.
The dark haired boy walked towards her and snorted, “Well, duh. I didn’t think it was right for you to be here on your own anyway.”
She laughed and said, “Why didn’t you come in? Wuss.”
“Do you ever stop asking questions?”
**Author's Note:**
> This is my very first au, so please go easy on me.
> I’m also not quite sure how far i’m planning to take this but we’ll see how it goes.
>
> I hope y’all like it though! I’ve been very excited about posting it, if you have me on twitter you would know.
>
> p.s. if there are any mistakes, let me know heh |
97387cac8f454af7a990e18ed2df6b07 | ['f9389e0076cb4393ad61dcc8e26675cd'] | Finally, after what seemed like days, Chirrut seemed to take pity on Baze. He broke the kiss, turning instead to swallow Baze’s whine and push what was left of the cum into his mouth. Baze felt so _dirty_ , his husband feeding him other men’s cum that had filled him, but even as his already flushed face reddened further he felt his orgasm edging nearer.
One of Chirrut’s clever hands shooed away the others, leaving his hand trailing down Baze’s chest the only touch against him. When Chirrut ignored his cock to tug softly at his balls, Baze couldn’t help but reach out for him, one hand grabbing at his thigh and the other his wrist, not trying to control Chirrut’s movements, but just to have something to hold on to.
It was Chirrut voice in his ear, low and praising, more than the light touch against his cock that made Baze cum, the litany of “My sweet, sweet Baze, so good for me, my love,” continuing even after Chirrut gave him permission to let go.
Baze was dimly aware of some of the others returning to the bed, lifting him with careful hands to rest against Chirrut’s chest. Chirrut’s hands were soft in his hair, combing out the tangles from where it had been pulled earlier, and damp cloths wiped gently over him, Chirrut soothing him as they passed over-sensitive areas. The bed shifted slightly beneath Baze as the older of his husband’s doppelgangers settled around them. If the sounds from the corner were any indication, Eddie and Cheng Do were starting a second round consisting of just themselves.
As pleasant as that thought was, Baze felt exhausted and wrung-out. He was all the more content for it though, wrapped in his husbands arms and Chirrut’s doppelgangers comforting around him, their heat meaning there was no need for the covers either twisted beneath them or discarded somewhere across the room.
**Extra scene:**
Baze was just coming back to himself, nestled in Chirrut's arms with the others sprawled around them, when the door opened and Wu Chow's ridiculous cane preceded him into the room. His dark grey waistcoat and coat were incongruous to the paper takeaway cup held in his hands and the mirrored sunglasses, borrowed from Arlong, balanced on his nose.
"...am I late?"
**Author's Note:**
> I would like to thank the ragethirst crew for all your filthy enabling and Keiji for your inspirational porn videos.
> Special thanks to Kim (28ghosts) for the beta!
> I've forgotten who it was who suggested Wu Chow showing up 10 minutes late with a Starbucks but I hope you enjoyed it! | 803a1faff4f44f7281c6a0f3d00632a5 | ['f9389e0076cb4393ad61dcc8e26675cd'] | Baze was utterly gorgeous, and she was Chirrut’s. She let her hands roam all over Baze’s chest and stomach, delighting in its broad expanse and just how _much_ there was of her wife, how her muscle and fat cushioned Chirrut’s body like they were made for each other (like Chirrut sometimes thought the marks meant they were, as silly as that thought was).
“You’re being weird and possessive again, I can tell.” Baze’s voice was a familiar rumble when she pulled back from Chirrut’s lips to speak, even the teasing accusation lazy.
“Hmm.” Chirrut was a little distracted by nuzzling into Baze’s neck now that her mouth was free, but even tired and distracted she was always ready to bicker with Baze. “Are not.”
Even Chirrut would admit that wasn’t her best response, but it had been a long day and she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in Baze.
“Are too,” said Baze but her voice was soft. Soft like the yielding flesh of her stomach and breasts, like the thigh between Chirrut’s legs as she moved slightly to straddle Baze’s right thigh in a lazy, nonchalant way. It gave her something to rub gently against, but more importantly it was the most comfortable position to fall face-first into Baze’s breasts – possibly her favourite place in the universe.
(At least now that Jedha was gone - the hidden rooftop where they’d used to sneak food from the kitchens to, where they’d first kissed, where Chirrut had convinced Baze to make love for their first anniversary gone with it - burned up in the Empire’s imperialism.)
Chirrut pushed that thought away, centring herself in the moment. There was no use dwelling on it now, she had therapy for that, and other countless hours that she spent meditating, dealing with the enormity of her (their) loss.
This was its own form of meditation. Its own form of worship. Now that they had the luxury of time, they were much slower during sex; for all that Chirrut still loved getting absolutely railed to within an inch of her life, there was something soothing and comforting about being able to take their time, racketing up the tension over hours some nights, worshiping each other with all the fervour of newly fledged acolytes. If Baze were still given to chiding Chirrut for blasphemy she would say that comparing sex to prayer was hardly respectful, but to Chirrut it had ever been but another demonstration of the beauty of the force, of its wonders.
The languid way Baze’s hands stroked over her back, dipping down over her ass certainly _felt_ like a gift from the Force to Chirrut. Especially with the noises Baze made at the movements of Chirrut’s mouth, her tongue dancing over Baze’s nipples, her hands playing with the rest of Baze’s breasts. Alternating between biting softly at the underside of Baze’s breast, lifted up – its weight a pleasing heft in Chirrut’s hand, who nonetheless felt a pang of sympathy for Baze’s back, especially with her habit of carrying frankly ridiculous weapons – to give her access, and pushing them together to hum happily, she occupied herself with Baze’s breasts.
She was lucky that Baze enjoyed this as much as she did. Her wife was just starting to properly respond to the attention, her hips moving slowly against the pressure of Chirrut’s thigh between hers, pushing her thigh up into Chirrut. The movement made the muscle tense, providing a firmer surface for Chirrut to grind down on, making her let out an approving noise at the feel of it beneath her. Baze’s leg muscles had always been impressive, covered in a layer of fat that made her legs even bigger in a way that was frankly distracting, and had been since they were fifteen and firmly just friends; the way she compensated for her missing limb with her right leg only increased the muscle in it, both her thighs still looking the same size – or so Chirrut was told – but feeling different.
It was just another detail of Baze that Chirrut adored. That only Chirrut knew.
She moved away from Baze's breasts to kiss her softly but gently, catching Baze's lower lip between hers, letting it go and giggling at the noise it made. Baze made her so happy, always had done, and Chirrut felt almost drunk on it tonight, tiredness and lust and joy a heady mix that made even the light touches of Baze's hands set arousal smouldering under her skin.
If the way Baze was starting to shift beneath her was any indication, Baze was feeling the same. Hands landed on her ass, grabbing in a way that made Chirrut shove her hips forward – Baze was definitely feeling the same then.
The angle was a little awkward, especially with how the burns on her chest and sides limited her movement, but Chirrut could bend enough to lick at Baze's breast again whilst still driving her thigh down against Baze's pussy, riding her wife's thigh in the same movement. She was rewarded by little gasps at the back of Baze's throat that made her squirm. A bit more pressure, the pinch of a nipple between her fingers – _there_.
Baze came, unexpectedly to her if the soft, shocked noise she let out was any indication, but it wasn’t a surprise to Chirrut. She hadn't always been the most diligent student – she left that to Baze – but she had learned Baze's body, her tells and just how she liked to be touched.
“Come here, sweetheart.” Baze's voice was slurred more than usual, the sounds of her native tongue fitting much better in her mouth than Basic. She pulled Chirrut up to kiss her, her mouth a little slack, pulling their mouths apart to pull Chirrut up further, attempting to wiggle down the bed in the same movement. “Up, up.” |
5393d482a5dd49839d3dd3aaa7ce333a | ['f96b305e3ea44414b95467d4a4c9ba84'] |
Breathe Feel Love
**Author's Note:**
> Something for today being Friday, the 13th and all! With grateful thanks to Stephen Trask for the title which comes from the lyrics of Midnight Radio.
It was the sound of voices that roused Blaine from his deep slumber, however, to his alarm, he found he was terribly disorientated and couldn’t open his eyes properly.
“Seriously, Dad?”
“Yes, son, really. Now let’s just trust her, shall we?”
Blaine could make out two different voices – one deep and solid; the other much younger and quite airy in its delivery. The voices came closer and finally, they were clearer.
“But, I just don’t get it, Dad. How is it possible that this … this ceremony will break the -”
“I don’t get it either, Kiddo, but Sue said that this is what we had to do. You want this gone, don’t you?”
“Yeah – absolutely Dad, I do.”
“Well, now that you are eighteen we can finally do something about it, Sweet Porcelain.”
Blaine identified a third voice entering the discussion now. This voice was definitely female although Blaine could detect a hard undertone to the cadence.
_And who in the hell calls their daughter, Porcelain?_
Blaine heard a lot of rustling close to his position and tried hard to open his eyes but to his dismay, he found he absolutely couldn’t.
“This tree,” the strong female voice declared emphatically.
“Really, Sue? This tree?” The young voice queried and Blaine tried to picture the face that accompanied such an ethereal sound.
“Why? Is there something wrong with it, Kurt?” the deep masculine voice queried.
_Kurt?_ Blaine was amazed. The soft, light voice belonged to a boy? Again he tried desperately to open his eyes and the panic in his heart increased with each unsuccessful attempt.
“No, Dad, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this tree. It’s just …” The voice trailed off and Blaine strained his ears to hear the rest of the sentence.
“What, Porcelain? Spit it,” commanded the fierce female voice.
"It’s just this forest has always been a safe place for me. Sometimes, when the bullying became quite bad, I’d run away from school, come here and just walk around. I’d often find myself here in this area. I’ve spent several afternoons leaning against this particular tree trying to calm down. It’s always been a comforting place for me.”
“That’s beautiful, Boo.” A young female voice, rich in tone, was added to the mix now. “But soon this whole nightmare will be over and you won’t have to run from tormentors anymore.”
“Thanks, Mercedes.”
_The reply was from this Kurt_ , Blaine deduced. _But what the hell was going on here? Why was the boy being tormented?_
“So, Sue how does this all work?” The deep older male voice was back.
_The dad_ , decided Blaine. Again, he struggled to open his eyes, to shake off the disorientation that clouded his brain and to let these people know he was there. But his struggles were in vain.
“As I explained to you, Burt, now that Kurt is eighteen, we are able to break the curse that came over him by being born on Friday, the 13th.”
“And all he has to do is … marry?”
_This was a new voice_ , Blaine determined, also young, but definitely male.
“Yes, Finn, all he has to do is marry.”
“This tree, you’ve chosen?”
The guy, Finn, sounded confused but then so was Blaine by the turn in the conversation.
“Yes, Finn. If we perform a marriage ceremony between Kurt and this tree, the curse that has rendered him unable to receive love and reciprocate this with a suitable partner will be lifted.”
“It’s as simple as that?”
Blaine recognized that distinctive voice now as belonging to this Kurt – a young male who had obviously just turned 18.
_Curse?_
_What curse can make it impossible for you to love and be loved?_
“Well, there are a few other procedures we must follow but we can worry about that after the actual marriage ceremony. Let’s do this.” The ardent and intense female was back and taking control.
“Where should I stand?” asked Kurt.
“How about here, Boo?” the young female, Mercedes, suggested. “There’s a lovely patch of sunlight streaming through on this side of the tree. It will be beautiful.”
“Oh, yes!” the boy, Kurt, agreed. “It is magical.”
Blaine found himself struggling yet again to open his eyes and regain full consciousness. He was desperate to put a face to the voice that was pervading his very body, infusing his senses with a desperate longing he didn’t even recognize.
“Aright everyone, gather around please.”
“Am I the only one who thinks this is weird?” asked Finn. “I know you guys think I’m really slow to catch on but, seriously, you’re gonna make Kurt marry a tree?”
Blaine fought his eyelids once more. He, too, was curious to observe this very strange procedure for himself. It would make for a good story back in the dorms at Dalton. Nick, Jeff and he would laugh over this for many days. But why was he unable to open his eyes? Was he still dreaming? Was this actually all part of some freakish dream? Did he and the boys smuggle alcohol into the dorms again?
Vague flashes of memory began to tease the edges of Blaine’s mind. There _had_ been alcohol and loud music. Girls from their sister school, Crawford Country Day, had arrived through the window, ably assisted by Wes and David. And _Rachel_ – Rachel had decided they should play Spin-the-Bottle.
Blaine tried really hard to remember what happened with the game but he couldn’t make out anymore and a voice interrupted his contemplation. It was the voice of the woman they called Sue – she was speaking in a strange language – one Blaine couldn’t identify. But then she said in perfect English, “Kurt, place your hand on the tree.” | f1513b415cdf4987bacb34deedf5ddf5 | ['f96b305e3ea44414b95467d4a4c9ba84'] | “Sam had to physically restrain them this morning. They got into a wrestling match during practice. I don’t know what the hell is going on with the two of them but if they continue like this then we can write off Friday night’s game.”
Kurt stood there in Blaine’s sports office, his coffee in one hand and messenger-bag slung over his opposite shoulder, facing one of the biggest dilemmas of his adult life. Randy had confided in him and sworn Kurt to secrecy but his current situation was tearing the team to shreds and along with it, all of Blaine’s hopes and dreams. Kurt took a sip of his coffee in order to sort out his rioting thoughts. He swallowed and looked straight at Blaine who was shaking his head in frustration.
“Blaine, talk to Randy without Haydn around if you can? Try to get him to open up to you. Tell him - ” Kurt sucked in a deep breath. “Tell him, I said talking to you is a safe option.”
“Kurt? What do you mean? Do you know what’s going on here and you haven’t told me?” Blaine was incredulous and the disappointed hurt in his voice was obvious to Kurt.
“No, Blaine, I don’t know what’s going on between the two but I can probably guess and no, I’m not in a position to tell you because I gave the boy my word that I won’t but I can tell you that Randy desperately needs to talk to you. Let Haydn go to class and spend some time with Randy, please Blaine?”
Blaine looked long and hard at Kurt and then he said quietly, “Okay, Kurt; I trust you.”
*********************************************************************************************************************
Later in the day, just before his scheduled lunch break, a light tap at his door roused Kurt from the English papers he was grading at his desk. He looked up to find Blaine standing in the doorway, the expression on his face was one of worry and concern.
“Hey, are you busy? I really need a minute,” he enquired and Kurt read the desperate plea in his eyes.
“No, not really; come in.” Kurt rose from his swivel chair to meet Blaine halfway across the room and gestured for him to take a seat in one of the two chairs which faced his desk while he himself took the other one and turned to face the coach.
Not knowing what was afoot, Kurt waited for Blaine to break the silence, but when he didn’t, Kurt offered him something to drink.
Blaine didn’t acknowledge the suggestion, instead he blurted out “I don’t know what to do, Kurt. I’m totally out of my depth here.”
“With what?” Kurt asked gently, although he suspected he knew already.
“With Randy,” Blaine sighed.
Kurt was cautious. “Why? What did he say to you?”
Blaine looked straight at Kurt as he replied, “He’s gay. He told me he’s gay.”
“O-kay -” replied Kurt but Blaine interrupted him before he could continue.
“But then, you knew that already, didn’t you? He told me that he basically told you his whole story when the two of you met last week to discuss his suspension.”
Kurt nodded. “Yes; yes, he did and he also swore me to secrecy, Blaine. But what’s going on between him and Haydn that’s got them so upset with each other?”
Blaine ran the tips of his fingers over his temple and forehead trying to stem the headache he knew was brewing. “Kurt, it’s a mess. Randy told me that he explained to you that most of his motivation behind tampering with the lights for your opening night was a stupid and childish attempt to get back at Haydn - to ruin that special moment of opening night for him.”
Kurt agreed, “Yes, that’s right. From what I understand the two of them have only recently realised that they have feelings for each other – feelings that run deeper than friendship -and if they have these feelings it must mean they are gay and neither one of them is coping with that realisation well at all.”
Blaine nodded in understanding and empathy as Kurt continued.
“Apparently, Haydn had wanted Randy to join the Glee Club and musical when he did but Randy just couldn’t. He told Haydn that his father wouldn’t let him do something ‘ _so gay’_. Randy is terrified of his father finding out what’s going on with him because apparently his father had lots of unkind and hurtful things to say about Haydn participating and Randy stupidly needed to do something that distanced himself from all that.” Kurt thought he’d summarised the conversation he had with Randy quite well when Blaine dropped a bombshell.
“Haydn wants to come ‘out’ at school and declare not only their orientation but their relationship as well. Randy is terrified of the repercussions hence the sniping at each other and today’s physical wrestling,” he announced.
“It’s just repressed sexual tension then, isn’t it?” questioned Kurt.
“And the worst kind,” Blaine grimaced, “because it’s repressed _teenage_ sexual tension. Maybe I should just lock the two of them in the weight-training room and let them have it out!” he chuckled, cynically.
“Why not?” Kurt laughed lightly, “It worked for us,” and his eyes widened in sudden shock as he realised what his filter-free mouth had just revealed.
“Blaine, I’m … I …” he stuttered, embarrassed but Blaine shook his head kindly at the choir master, his eyes soft with understanding. |
4034288f872b4deaa5fa87ef428b008d | ['f99f93418dc245cb93c57703a47c7993'] | I averted my gaze to avoid his questioning stare and looking into his eyes. They come to my attention right away, and I do not want to think about that at the moment since it was not the time for it. But from the looks of things, I suppose I cannot avoid telling him the truth.
The thing is, while I have nothing to hide, having to tell him so directly made things more awkward then I thought it would be.
"That's... to be expected. The blood, I mean. I was on my period, after all."
And there it came, the long awkward pause that I had expected him to give me. That, and the look of absolute disbelief.
"Period, you say? As in, menstruation?"
"Yes."
"But, for a lad, that's impossible. Unless... you're not a lad, but a lass?"
"Yeah. Got a problem?"
"No... Not at all..."
He made a strange expression which I could not read. Was he in disbelief? No, it did not seem that he had doubted what I had told him. However, if that was not a sufficient explanation, I could not find a way to describe the confused expression that he was making. In addition, he seemed to be muttering something under his breath that I cannot make sense of.
"... Something the matter?"
"My apologies, I allowed myself to get caught up in my thoughts. I just happened to remember something from the past."
"Uh... huh..."
What did that mean?
I wanted to ask him that, but his business was none of mine.
"By the way, the thermos flask..."
"Oh." Right, I had to return it to him. "I'll get it, just hang on for a moment."
If I remember correctly, I placed it in a paper bag and put it in the drawer of my desk. I had some thought about finding a way to give it back to him eventually, but it had slipped my mind completely until he showed up today.
"Here it is..." After retrieving it, I turned to return it to him, only to see him standing by my bed. And in his hands... "BUSU-CHAN?!"
"Were you referring to me?"
"Not you, you blockhead!" I ran up to him, hissing. "Unhand him! Don't you dare touch my treasure with those dirty hands of yours!"
Busu-chan was a cat plush toy with a red bandanna around its neck, originally a present from my parents. Even if it was old and somewhat beat-up, and not the cutest plush toy in the world, it is still the one object that I treasure more than anything else. To have someone other me touch him, and in such a careless manner... inexcusable!
"My apologies." He lowered Busu-chan, which he had been holding up, and I snatched him away from him.
I held Busu-chan tight to my chest while I glared at him. "What did you intend to do to him?"
"I just thought that I found him familiar."
"Well, maybe you saw something similar in a store or something, but Busu-chan is Busu-chan. There's only one of him in this world, and he's the most precious thing in the world to me. So don't you touch him, got it?"
"Affirmative."
"Good." I held the bag with the flask in it, which was temporarily forgotten, out to him. "Here."
"Thanks."
"So, to summarise our little talk today: I'm a girl with working girl parts which means I don't have piles, but to the outside world I'm a boy and that is my cover. And you won't go around blabbering that kind of nonsense to Ichi-nii ever again. Are we clear on that?"
"Of course."
I would have thought that a man as big and, well, manly as him would be quite stubborn and hard to deal with. Like that numbskull Jiro and other boys my age. They only knew how to talk big, but that was all they can do. However, he seemed to be quite accepting and easygoing, which I felt was not something that was bad. It was actually refreshing how nice he was, and I found myself glad that my impression of him... Busujima-san was not completely wrong.
Now that his business was over and done with, there was no reason for him to stay much longer.
I brought him downstairs and sent him off at our front door. He wanted to give his regards to Ichi-nii, but he seemed to have stepped out for work. On the other hand, Jiro had just returned, and he almost created a bit of a fuss when he spotted Busujima-san leaving our home. I had to shut him up before he could start being a hindrance to our neighbours.
However, despite the way he acted, Jiro still ate the curry he made for us and even said that it was good. I gave him the stinkeye for that change in attitude, but even I cannot deny that it really was delicious… but not as good as the one Ichi-nii makes, of course.
Well, at the very least, that will be the last we will see that person until the next rap battle. The fact that he was, and would be nothing but, our enemy would not change.
And this time, I will be much stronger.
This time, I will definitely Ichi-nii make Ichi-nii the victor.
Just you wait, _MAD TRIGGER CREW_. The day of your defeat to us is drawing near.
Chapter 7: A misunderstanding cleared
**\- to be continued -** | d5a4a4834f40400cb4a4a42c6865a5b8 | ['f99f93418dc245cb93c57703a47c7993'] | "Ichi-nii has a proper name, you know? And don't confuse me for that idiot Jiro."
"Oh, so yer the sis. Whatcha name again... Mika, was it?"
"Mina. I go by Saburo now."
"Huh? Ya turned yerself into a lad?"
"No, I simply intend to pass off as one. If you don't mind, could you put me down?"
"Oh. M'bad." She did not think that he would actually listen to her request, which was out of her expectations. "An'way, whatcha doin' 'ere in 'Hama?"
"I fought with Ichi-nii and ran away from home."
"Fought? With those puny arms of yer's?"
"We mostly argued. I did slug him one before I ran out of the house."
Hearing that, Samatoki gave a loud laugh, one that was so hard that he even clutched his stomach.
It was then that her stomach made a sound, audible enough for the both of them to hear. She expected him to laugh even harder, but he fell silent. She could not read the expression that he wore on his face, nor could she understand what it had meant.
"Like bro like sis, eh." What did he mean by that, she wondered but was unable to ask before he continued speaking. "Oi, Sabukichi..."
"It's Saburo."
"Wha'eva. Come with me."
"Where are you intending to take me?"
"Relax; it ain't someplace bad."
"How can I trust you?"
"Ya don't hafta. Now shaddap and walk."
The place that he had led her to was a small establishment located in the middle of an alley. From the curtains hanging at the entrance, she could tell that it was an eatery, one that served a particular noodle dish.
"Gramps! Gimme two bowls! Da usual!"
Samatoki called out to an old man, the chef, who was behind the counter. He grunted his reply before telling them to take a seat where they wish.
Samatoki plopped his ass down by the corner of the counter, urging her to sit next to him. She did so, although cautiously.
"Gramps' ramen's da best in the whole of 'Hama, I assure ya. Been eatin' it since I was a tot."
"Don't flatter me too much, brat. Barely anyone comes nowadays other than you. Haven't had many customers since that idiot son of mine left with the recipe years ago and made a franchise with it."
"Ya shudda let me beat 'im up, gramps."
"Nah, not worth your time. He'll pay for what he did in hell."
"Betcha even Lord Enma won't be 'nuff ta make 'im repent."
"You'll never know." Saburo sat silently, watching them converse until a large bowl of ramen was set down on the counter in front of each of them. "Eat up while it's hot!"
"It's... huge..." So much so that Saburo had to express her awe by saying it aloud.
"Don't hafta worry 'bout payin'; my treat."
"No, that's not it. I can't finish this much."
"Whatcha sayin'? Ya wanna pass off for a lad, so ya better start eatin' like one!"
"Oh? You mean this wasn't the young man you used to bring with you?" The old man overheard them and asked in surprise. "Thought the two of you had a falling out."
"Ah. Don't wanna remember so don't remind me."
"Sir, you know Ichi-nii?"
"Ichi-nii...?" The man's frown deepened, but just for a while. "Ahh, I see. So you're one of the younger siblings that he always boasts about. You look just like him when he first came into my shop all those years back."
"I see..."
"Hey, ya hungry, right? Shaddap and eat."
Saburo was displeased at how rude Samatoki was but chose not to say anything about it. "I would even if you didn't tell me to."
All it took was the first mouth to affirm what he had told her about the food. It was delicious, more than any other that she had before. She was soon absorbed into filling her stomach with the rich pork bone broth, firm noodles and the variety of toppings, and despite having complained about the portion she managed to finish it all.
While she ate, she felt his eyes on her, but he remained quiet throughout the meal except for one word. "Deja vu."
She paused to look at him, and he brushed it off by averting his gaze.
"It's nothin'. Eat yer ramen 'fore it gets cold."
As he had told her that he would before they ate, Samatoki paid for her portion of the meal. She made sure to thank him properly, an act which he dismissed as unnecessary.
Now that she had eaten her fill, she began to feel guilty about lashing out at her brother. Although she still despised how he had forced his decision on her, she regretted raising her hand against him. No matter how angry she was, it was no excuse for her to have resorted to violence to express her displeasure.
And somehow, she knew that Samatoki was able to notice this.
"So? Whatcha gonna do now?" He asked as he walked her out to the main street.
"… I'll go home."
"Good."
His reply came out as a grunt before he began to walk ahead of her, towards the station as if he was sending her off. However, she did not expect that he would follow her into the station.
She gave him a confused stare which questioned his motives.
"It's gettin' late. I'll send ya home properly."
The fact that both of them said nothing to each other made the situation rather awkward, but Saburo appreciated his concern.
When they returned to Ikebukuro, he continued walking with her to the area where her home was. There was no one else in narrow lanes other than them. That was when Samatoki finally spoke.
"Dunno what happened 'tween ya and him," He spoke without looking at her, as if he was simply narrating his thoughts. "But ya sibs should get along 'nstead of fightin'. Ya guys're all he's got now." |
d9c7b37bf013485e898c1d2ef0559f44 | ['f9b628413a734fc6a955a233de6723c7'] |
Honeysuckle (1/3)
**Author's Note:**
> Hello all! So, I really wanted to write a reader insert based off the events of the Captain America trilogy, so I did, oops. The parts for the Winter Soldier and Civil War are already written and ready to go, and will go up soon, depending on the feedback and response to this story! As always, let me know what you think, and enjoy!
You roll over in bed, your eyes slowly opening to the morning sun. A feeling of nervousness sits heavily in your stomach, a result of the news you received yesterday. You would be heading overseas in a days’ time to begin your own journey as a woman in the Army. You suspected that there wasn’t much you would be allowed to do other than secretarial tasks, but the thought of having Bucky, and maybe even Steve if his lying actually worked, overseas fighting in the war without you made your heart seize in terror. Your boys needed you. Or maybe it was you that needed them.
They came into your life soon after they had become friends. A boy named Thomas had been bullying you nearly every day at school; throwing rocks at you, pushing you down, kicking dirt into your face, which was something that Steve eventually witnessed and wouldn’t stand for. He tried defending you, which only resulted in Thomas punching Steve and giving him a bloody nose, which was something that Bucky then witnessed and definitely wouldn’t stand for. Bucky came in, fists flying, and knocked Thomas to the ground in seconds. He helped you both up, and you three were pretty much bonded from then on out. It was a friendship that had shaped you in many ways, and was balanced by your three similar yet different personalities. You three were always there for each other, and you knew that you would do anything for them. You brought a unique female dynamic to the relationship, which helped shaped the boys into caring men that could treat a lady right.
And now it was hard to believe that two of you would be shipping out tomorrow, and the three of you would all be separated for the first time since your friendship began all those years ago. You rolled out of bed, knowing that you were meeting up with Steve and Bucky later that evening to go dancing. At some point in the last few years, the dynamic between you and Bucky had changed. Suddenly the boy that taught you how to throw a punch became a man that started to ask you out. You resisted it at first, worried about your friendship with both Steve and Bucky, but after a long talk with Steve where he assured you that nothing would change, you finally relented. So, for the last 5 years you have been Bucky’s best girl (a nickname that always split your face into a grin), and as Steve had promised, nothing had changed. You three still did everything together, except now you and Bucky were careful to never make Steve feel like the odd one out. Honestly, things have been better between you three since you started dating Bucky, because Bucky and Steve had always been the closest in your trio. They had a way of talking to each other without saying a word, and at times you had felt left out of what was going on. But now you and Bucky had a stronger bond, and Steve and Bucky were stronger than ever, and you and Steve had the same heart for saving people.
You pulled your mind back to the present as you finished doing up your curls, smiling at the reflection looking back at you. You finished getting ready with the joyous thought that you had some dancing to do.
. . .
You stood in the Expo Hall with your friend Julie, who you had dragged along to be a dancing partner for Steve. Your eyes swept the hall, looking for your soldier, and a voice from behind caused you to turn with a smile.
“Where’s my best girl?” Bucky asked.
“Bucky!” you squealed, as you ran to him for a hug. He picked you up and spun you, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.
As he set you down, he gave you a knowing look and said, “You’ll never guess where I found Stevie here.”
You raised your eyebrows and looked to Steve, “Was he fighting again?”
Steve shrugged and looked at you while responding, “He had it coming, he was a jerk.”
You shook your head in disbelief and pulled Steve into a hug, kissing his cheek as you pulled away. “Who’s gonna keep you in line when we’re gone, Steve?”
Steve grinned and shrugged again before moving to introduce himself to Julie. After the introductions were made, we heard a change in the music, signifying the start of the show. You grinned at both Bucky and Steve, grabbing their hands to drag them closer. “C’mon, it’s starting!”
You watched in awe as Howard Stark introduced himself, and proudly showcased his hovering car.
“Holy cow.” You heard Bucky mutter next to you in amazement.
You looked at Bucky with eyes full of wonder, imagining what other inventions Mr. Stark had hiding in his mind. You turned to look at Steve to see what he thought of all of this, only to realize that he was no longer standing behind you with Julie. You got Bucky’s attention and asked, “Now where did he run off to this time?”
Bucky sighed and said, “Who knows, but I’ll go find him. You girls stay here and enjoy the show.”
You continued watching the show with Julie until its end, and still Steve and Bucky never showed. So, you told Julie to wait by a fountain and said you’d come back in a moment. | 3773334b1737401abb57f494949ff6ed | ['f9b628413a734fc6a955a233de6723c7'] | “Who the hell is Bucky?” the Winter Soldier asks, genuinely confused. He raises his gun, preparing to shoot Steve, but Sam flies down in that moment to knock him out of the way. Steve stands and looks at Bucky before Bucky again raises his gun, preparing to shoot Steve. The launch of a grenade from nearby stops the Winter Soldier before he can shoot, and you look up to see Nat standing with the grenade launcher and looking pissed as hell. You and Steve both turn to look for Bucky, but he’s gone before the smoke even clears.
The sound of approaching sirens doesn’t even pull you from your daze as you walk towards Steve, wondering what the hell is going on. The strike team surrounds the 4 of you, barking for you to get down. You put your hands on your head and drop to your knees, vaguely aware of the handcuffs being put around your wrists. You’re thrown into the van next to Steve, and you look at him with an expression of bewilderment and joy.
He says, “It was him. He looked right at me. He didn’t even know me.”
“Stevie, Bucky’s _alive._ ” You say, slightly giddy and delirious from the blood loss and excitement.
Sam questions, “How is that even possible? It was like 70 years ago.”
Steve answers, “Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured and Zola experimented on them. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall.”
You lift your head at his last statement and look at Steve, eyes full of guilt as you whisper. “We left him behind, Steve.”
Nat speaks up at your statement, “None of that’s your fault.”
You both look away, ashamed that you left Bucky behind. “Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky.”
His words only cause the guilt to burn in your stomach, like acid. You start to feel lightheaded, aware that there was nothing slowing the bleeding from your shoulder. Even super soldiers can bleed out. You think you hear Sam mention something about a doctor, but you pass out before you hear the end.
. . .
The summer that you and Steve were 14 and Bucky was 15, you all decided that you were going to swim in the lake at Central Park. You waited until late at night and you all 3 snuck out of Steve’s apartment and into the park. You swam for an hour, giggling and teaching Steve how to float and dunking Bucky underwater, before you saw the flashlight of a cop sweeping the area near you. You all ran out of the lake, half naked in just your underclothes, laughing the whole way back. You arrived back at Steve’s, breathless with laughter and from the run. You snuck back in, past Steve’s mom Sarah, and snuggled into the blankets between Steve and Bucky. You all fell asleep that night happy, hair still damp from the water.
A few hours later you woke up, a cough rattling in Steve’s lungs. Bucky was sitting next to Steve, and it was clear to you that he had been awake for some time. You touched his forehead and it was hot to the touch, but Steve kept pulling the blankets tighter around himself. You looked at Bucky in alarm, “I’ll go get Sarah.”
Bucky nodded his head and you rushed out to her, frantic and crying in fear. Sarah jumped up and immediately got to work preparing a cold compress for Steve and gathering cool water for him to drink. She came in the room and made quick work of situating Steve, adjusting him on the pillows and working to break his fever. When she was satisfied with his condition, she pulled you both from the room, sitting you at the table and preparing you both some soup.
She knew that you had all gotten up to something, the smell of freshwater obvious on your skin. She sensed how shaken up you and Bucky were though, so she never lectured you. “Bucky, y/n. My Stevie is a special boy and he requires special care sometimes. He has to be very careful in this life in order to avoid illnesses that can kill him.” She took yours and Bucky’s hands in hers and continued, “I’m glad that he has friends like you to bring him joy and help him live his life, but it’s important that you two always protect him, do you understand?”
You and Bucky nodded vigorously, the importance of this promise sticking with you for life. Years later when Sarah was sick in the hospital with tuberculosis, you and Bucky went to visit her after he got off work. You often found Steve there and walked him home, making sure that he took care of himself too. Steve was asleep in a chair in the corner, and you sat with Sarah, telling her about your day, attempting to lift her spirits.
She grabbed yours and Bucky’s hand the same way she had 4 summers ago and asked you desperately, “Do you remember that promise you made me the summer that Stevie got very sick?” You both nod so she continues, “You must keep that promise, especially after I’m gone. Keep him safe, but help him live life. Don’t let him mourn me forever.”
You and Bucky agree, tears slipping down your face at her words. You gather Steve and take him home, taking care to make sure he eats and washes up. You fall asleep together that night like you usually do, tangled together. And by morning, Sarah Rogers is dead.
. . .
You come to, the sound of voices cutting through the fog in your brain. You heard a voice that sounded a lot like…Fury? You got up quickly, already feeling slightly better, and rushed to the sound of the voices. You turned the corner and stood there staring at Fury in confusion. “Fury?!” you gasp out.
“As I live and breathe,” he answers. |
468bd00b63c84119b9d2d72f43560e9f | ['f9c6a5114e5b42ca8da5f7da61998279'] | Caleb looked down at his hands in his lap.
"But," Jack said. "I'm a desperate man. And you're a desperate man. And lookie here, I have Nathan's face." He circled his face with his finger laughing. "You wanna fuck him? You can't. But you can fuck me."
Caleb wasn't sure what to say. He was speechless.
"Aw, you're a shy little thing, aren't ya?" He guffawed. "You're not gunna admit shit. I can tell that. All you have to do is nod and I'll take you into the other room."
Caleb looked up at Jack.
"Do you want it, man?" Jack said, his voice was near a whisper.
Caleb slowly nodded.
\--
Jack all but pulled Caleb into his bedroom and threw him on the bed. "Now I'm not gunna kiss your mouth. Alright? Like I said, I'm not a homo."
Caleb was on his back against the pillows stroking himself through his jeans and nodding along to Jack's words without actually hearing them. He was too focused on the fact that he was about to be fucked by Nathan's twin, who he was going to pretend was Nathan himself.
Jack tore at his belt and dropped his pants and Caleb's mouth dropped when he saw that Jack was wearing panties. Not briefs, not underwear, he was wearing women's panties. They were made of lace and pink with white trim and a tiny little flower adorned the waistband and he was fully hard behind the sheer lace and Caleb could see he was huge. He squeezed at his own cock through the denim of his own pants and bit his lip.
"Not a fuckin' homo," Jack said pointing at Caleb, "I just really dig wearing panties."
He stripped his shirt off too to reveal his nipples were pierced before plopping down back-first against the bed and beckoning Caleb over. "Suck my cock through these things," Jack said tugging at the waistband of his panties.
Caleb crawled down the bed until his face was directly above Jack's clothed cock before leaving a long languid swipe of his tongue up the shaft causing Jack to say, "Fuck yeah, boy." And grab and tug Caleb's hair. Caleb began suckling the head of Jack's cock through the lace causing Jack's thigh's to twitch and him to groan loudly. After staying there for a while he worked his way down until his face was buried in the panties as he sucked and licked his balls. Jack's thick thighs squeezing his head.
"Tell me I'm pretty," Jack said in a grunt and sigh.
"You're so pretty," Caleb said with Jack's balls in his mouth.
Jack kept him trapped there between his thighs forcing him to lick and suck at the lower part of his cock and balls for a while before letting him up. The panties were soaked through the front with Jack's precum and Caleb kissed the head, licking up some of the pre and whining from the taste. He was sure Nathan tasted the same if not similiar, and this was the closest he would ever get to knowing.
Jack pushing Caleb off him and tore his panties down before tackling him and undressing the feminine blonde man. Caleb loved nothing more than being manhandeled and by the time Jack got him fully naked he was harder than he had ever been.
"Here, brother," Jack handed Caleb the bottle of lube he kept under his pillow. "Prepare your ass, I'm gunna go have a smoke." He left the bed and walked into the bathroom, grabbing his pack of cigarettes from the bedside table on the way and stroking his cock.
Caleb, left to his own devices prepped himself like he was being watched. He was sure that Nathan would see this eventually, having the entire house tapped with cameras. He couldn't physically see them but he guessed where they were and fucked himself open with the lube while whining in the most obscene way. Hoping against hope that maybe Nathan would see him and change his mind about fucking him. He closed his eyes and thought about his boss, imagined these were his fingers inside him. He stroked himself simultaneously. He had almost completely forgotten about Jack when he came back onto the bed and commanded him to roll over.
Caleb did so happily.
Jack grunted. "Sloppy little hole you have here," he dipped his fingers in and fucked inside with two. "Just like a pussy."
Caleb whimpered.
"Hold your horses," Jack said with a laugh. "You'll be on the end of my cock in just a second."
Jack pulled his fingers out and rolled on top of Caleb so that his stomach was on Caleb's back. His weight was a lot for the petite man to bear but he loved it.
Jack didn't give much warning, just circled Caleb's opening with the tip a few times before pressing in.
"Ah! Ah!" Caleb whined in pain that was laced with masochistic pleasure. He gripped the sheets.
"There we go, brother," his voice was rough but in a whisper now. He kept his eyes on his own cock as it slowly disappeared inside the smaller man. "Fuckin pretty. You need to get out into the sun more often, brother. You're as pale as a ghost." He cackled.
Caleb bit his bottom lip and breathed slowly as Jack pulled back and slowly started to fuck him. He was visibly trembling and Jack took this as his cue to do what he had planned. He leaned down and began talking softly in Caleb's ear. But it wasn't his own voice. It was Nathan's.
"There we go," Jack said, in Nathan's exact accent and soft voice. "Take me."
Caleb gripped the sheets harder. He had almost forgotten that Jack was Nathan's twin and could easily imitate him. He cleared everything from his head, forgot about Jack and thought about Nathan and imagined it was his boss behind him, fucking him, and not his idiot brother. | 3f64f755199349488ef378effc0bb35f | ['f9c6a5114e5b42ca8da5f7da61998279'] |
Mile high princess
**Author's Note:**
* For LINK.
"Window seat!" You squeal all but jumping into the aisle of chairs.
Oscar chuckles, he loves when you act excited over the smallest things. It makes you look extra cute in his eyes.
You're stationed at the back of the plane, which you find odd because Oscar usually springs for first class, but you don't complain. This just means you'll be closer to him in the confined space that coach allows.
You plop yourself into the seat closest to the window and beam up at Oscar as he sits in the seat directly next to you. There's a third seat in the row which you pray doesn't get occupied so you and Oscar can have your little slice of privacy. Oscar sees the way you look at the third seat and he rubs the top of your hand and assures you that nobody will be sitting there because he bought the seat out. You smile and he kisses your forehead.
When the stewardess signals everyone to buckle their seatbelts Oscar helps you with yours. Your heart flutters in your chest, you love being taken care of and knowing he cares so much about your safety.
When the plane starts you squeeze Oscar's hand and he rests his forehead right above your ear and talks calming Spanish into it. You've never liked the takeoff and while you have almost no idea what he is saying, just listening to his voice puts you at ease.
An hour into the flight you're your usual self, watching a movie with Oscar on the screen on the seat in front of you and cuddling. Every now and then he kisses your cheek and you nuzzle against him in reply.
During the movie you begin to squirm, feeling restless. You're not used to sitting for so long. You're naturally rambunctious and it's killing you to sit still. Oscar notices immediately and tightens his grip on your wrist, not hard, just firmly. "You okay, baby?" He says taking off both of your headphones.
You turn to him and shake your head.
"We'll be landing in a couple of hours. Can you get through that?" Oscar says, his voice low and soothing. "for me?"
You shift in your seat again, silently answering his question.
"Hey wiggle-bug," he holds your other wrist so he has both captured in his two hands and chuckling. "There's nowhere to go. We're thousands of feet off the ground."
He wraps his arms around you from behind while holding your wrists making you cross your arms across your chest holding you captive while he whispers in your ear. "What does Daddy have to do to make you calm down? Hmm?"
You look up at him through your long eyelashes and don't say a word, you just bite your bottom lip. And that's when Oscar knows exactly what he needs to do.
He sees the stewardess and gestures her over. When she comes she looks at you two embraced in such a way, she smiles but inside she's burning with jealousy.
"Yes, Sir?" She asks Oscar, her lip curling into a smirk, her eyes looking him up and down.
You think that bitch better stop looking at your man like that before you get up and let loose all your pent up energy on beating her ass. But Oscar's grip gets tighter on your wrist, understanding subconsciously how you're feeling about the stewardess looking at him in such a way and his touch reminds you that Oscar is yours and only yours and not worry. You take a breath.
"Yes, ma'am can I please get a blanket," he smiles. "My girl is feeling a little chilly."
Her eyes don't leave his as she says, "of course, sir, right away." Before leaving to retrieve it.
She comes back with a fluffy blue blanket with the airline's logo stitched into the side and hands it to Oscar. "Thank you," he says.
"Anytime," she says before walking away, turning to shoot daggers at you when he turns.
You grit your teeth.
"Hey," Oscar says looking at your face and chuckling. "There a little green monkey on your back isn't there?" He nuzzles your face again and kisses you, lightly tickling your ribs until you smile. "Don't worry about her, c'mon. I'm yours and you're mine. Okay?"
You nod. "Good girl," he says before kissing your lips gently. He unfolds the blanket and covers you with it up to your chin. The blanket is large, a really good size and t covers up almost all of you and even some of him. You both cuddle under the soft cotton for a while before his hands begin to wander.
You soon realize why he asked for the blanket when his hands wander between your thighs and spread you open a little bit. You were happy you had decided to wear your jean mini-skirt today because it allowed for the best access. "I know just what to do to stop those squirmies," Oscar whispered in your ear. His hands were all over you but not where you wanted them the most. He alternated between rubbing your inner thighs with his palms and softly running his fingernails down them causing you to twitch from the light tickles. You sighed and nuzzled your face against him.
His fingers finally touched you where you had been wanting them, ghosting along the front of your panties. Not touching exactly, just softly hovering above where you had soaked through the front.
"Daddy," you whine softly as you shift in your seat.
"Now now," he says. "Stay still. Daddy is here. Daddy's gunna make his little girl feel like a princess."
You squeak when his fingers close down softly against the wetness and begin rubbing small circles in the fabric against your clit. "Shh," he says. "After you cum you'll get real sleepy and you can take a nap until we land, okay?"
You nod and sigh, feeling him rub deeper. You feel close and just as you're about to cum his hand leaves you and you whine softly.
You hear some rattling, Oscar playing with his soda cup from earlier, you think. You're proven right when his hand is back under the blanket again, this time with an ice cube. You jolt softly when he places the ice cube on your inner thigh and begin to softly rub it against your skin. "Shh," he whispers in your ear again. "Close your eyes. Focus on the temperature and my voice."
You whine lightly, not disliking the sensation. You actually really love it. You've found a new kink you think when his fingers and the ice cube slowly makes its way to the front of your panties. You gasp softly as the freezing cold of the ice cube is being rubbed in slow circles against your clit. The warmth of your pussy is making the cube melt, dribbling cold water down your panties to your seat.
"You like that?" Oscar's other hand comes up under your shirt to rub and tease your nipples with the tips of his fingers. He brings the ice cube up to rub them twice on each nipple, making them harder even more before returning the now half melted cube to your pussy.
You nod your head slowly and whine before his hand cups your entire pussy in his hand holding the ice cube there in the middle against your pussy hole while his thumb softly rubs at your clit. "That's it." He whispers. Your body begins to twitch and you nuzzle your face against Oscar's neck feeling your orgasm building. "Cum for your daddy."
You squeak almost silently and grip his forearm when you cum. His thumb not stopping and his fingers continuing to rub the last remaining bit of ice cube against your hole until it's fully melted as you come apart. "Daddy," you whimper in his ear. "Daddy."
"Good girl," he kisses your forehead and your lips. "I know it feels good princess." The ice cube is completely melted now leaving your panties absolutely soaked with water and your cum. "Go to sleep, baby. I'll wake you up when we land. You should be nice and dry by then."
You nod, sleepily and close your eyes feeling him situate you so your legs are closed again and you're in a more comfortable position cuddled up against him as you drift off to sleep. |
edbdfd5d141e4215bb6b8b7e1377321d | ['f9c7b56903e249848147edbf270513dc'] | "Retreat!" one cried, scrambling back to run for safety.
But there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, and everywhere they died.
"My lord, they managed to purify one of us before we killed them, do you wish for us to take the object for examination?"
Tilting a claw forth, he gave his permission, and his eyes narrowed at the remains of the weak yōkai, a scholar she was, instead of a fighter.
"It appears that we cannot touch it without singing our hands, my lord," his retainer spoke, and in a moment of silence, Naraku turned to the sky, seeing it for a sign of mockery, in spite of their victory.
"Bring the miko, she will recover it for us."
15. Distraction
There were words she wanted to say, but they died down because she couldn't speak anyway.
"Kagome misses her family, her pack," Shippō announced, easily catching whiff of her desire, because he too knew the feeling of finding family, a very sad smell lingered with the hints of determination - it was very sour yet left him feeling joy.
Naraku squashed down the feeling of wanting to please her, and shifted his head to look down at the solemn miko.
"Until the humans are dead," he said.
A distressed call sounded from the back of Kagome's throat, because she knew that it only meant one thing - until this war was over, and even then she wouldn't know if her family would be safe.
Naraku told himself that it was for the best, because he wouldn't let the miko control him with her wishes and demands, not that she outwardly expressed such things, but just one look and he would succumb to what she wanted, and he was preventing that from happening.
_Not again_ , he vowed.
16. Hostility
"The Western lands have captured more humans, my lord, and they have requested permission to kill," Sesshōmaru spoke clear, as he bowed his head in knowledge of Naraku's power over him.
"Cease their foolish lives," Naraku ordered, but a thought appeared before his very mind and he called Sesshōmaru to halt.
Waiting, Sesshōmaru observed his lord with intrigue. Normally, once orders were given, they would be carried out - but this hesitancy, oddly, wasn't alarming.
"Bring them to me, and call the miko when they arrive," was all he said, thus dismissing his retainer.
17. Solace
_None_ , she thought, hugging Kirara to her chest as she closed her eyes, not wanting to see the deaths of strangers. She had condemned them for not being family, and a part of her relished their deaths - even as she wished she could've saved them.
Their blood filled the air, and Naraku calmly strode through their decaying bodies to call for the guards. "Dispose of them," were his orders.
Kagome hiccuped as she felt Kirara's nose brush against her cheek, and she slowly curled into a ball as she cried for her mom, her little brother, and her grandfather. They were missing, and she didn't even know if her search was going to prove fruitless.
Naraku ignored her silent wails, pretending she wasn't there as he looked through reports detailing the issues regarding his castle.
18. Defective
"My lord, it is unwise to leave the castle," Sesshōmaru announced, even though he himself had left his castle unattended - but he had Jaken helping him take care of the land.
"I tire of sitting in here all day, and I am more than capable of fending for myself," Naraku drawled, and he stood up, prepared to leave.
"May I suggest that you bring the miko along with you?" Sesshōmaru asked lightly, and stood utterly still as he inwardly grimaced when a lock of his hair fell to the floor. _That will be a no_ , he filled in, and bowed before removing himself.
Naraku growled as he flexed his claws, and he fought the urge to go on a killing spree when the feelings he had locked deep within himself sprung from their cage. _It is inconvenient to have these feelings_ , he argued in frustration, but the emotions swelled within him and he found himself hovering outside her bedroom.
The words caught in his throat, and he slid open the door because he was not going to ask for permission to enter, not when it was his castle, and she was only there because he hadn't killed her or imprisoned her yet.
A squeak fluttered towards his ears, and his eyes sought for his little miko - soon finding her hidden behind the shōji screens on the far right of her room.
Steam rose behind the screens, and the sploshing of water against her skin rang loud in the otherwise silent room.
_She is taking a bath_ , his mind supplied as he blinked languidly, inhaling the fresh scent of _something_ \- a pleasant smell he didn't mind surrounding himself with, and proceeded to close the door behind him.
It was clear to say that Naraku was at odds with his hatred and simmering interest for the little miko, who honestly was unaware of his fluctuating emotions - other than the fact that he was at times cold, and at times warm.
Kagome wasn't sure what to feel as she was hyperaware of his presence, and when she forced herself to breathe, she found herself feeling light in the head.
Naraku narrowed his eyes at the screens blocking his view from his miko, but he allowed her to have this privacy, because one part of him was disgusted by his feelings for the human, and wanted no part in the act of spying - so it left him at odds with himself for wanting to be closer, and wanting to be run away.
When no sound came from the spider hanyō, she found herself relaxing and thought that maybe he had left when he realized she was bathing, and with a gentle smile, resumed her lukewarm bath. | 747b1f3858374ce4b231896c220a4829 | ['f9c7b56903e249848147edbf270513dc'] | Turning the knob, she felt the water's temperature, wincing as it froze her skin, and sighing in relief when it turned warmer, and then to a mild burn. _I need to cool off_ , she reasoned as she turned the shower head on, and forcing the dream she had - just minutes ago - been enjoying, in a sick unforgiving way, she cleansed herself.
.
.
.
In the mean time, Gajeel was sitting at his desk conversing with his fellow workmates, though he didn't remember their names since they weren't important in his eyes. He called one of them shorty or midget, they were interchangeable, because she really was short, and it amused him to no ends when she got furious over his name for her.
"I heard that Mira's set her sights on matching Lisanna and Natsu, is it true?" his seatmate asked, as she leaned forward to rest her fingers at the very edge of their desk, stretching her arms out - while she sat on her knees and then groaned in relief - the audible crack of her shoulders echoing for a short while.
"How should I know?" Gajeel murmured, though he was pleased that not only did he crawl under Natsu's nerves, but the guy had absolutely no chance with his pet.
"Weren't you and Natsu from the same university? You must've met at least once in the four years you went there," his seatmate called out in exasperation, and it was as if she couldn't believe her ears upon the knowledge that he didn't know what happened with the people he hung out with.
Gajeel grunted his response and stretched his foot to slide her chair away from her desk, so that she had no choice but to sit normally to save herself. He could feel her glare, but he feigned ignorance by looking to the office's door, which coincidentally began to swing inwards.
Lucy stumbled in with a massive headache, which had been caused by her rush in everything, and she barely made it to work on time - slipping her card into the card reader while her supervisor frowned at her. It was like the world was turning against her, as it did all those days ago, and was making it known that she shouldn't fall into the lies and deceit of her co-worker, because a sense of reality was throbbing against her head.
"That's Lucy Heartfilia, right? She's ranked number two in our department, did you know? According to the unofficial list, however, she's ranked number one, and reasons include her friendly personality, how fuckable she is, and what they would give to have her wrapped around their-oh my, um, what a fine weather we're having today, right Gajeel?" she squeaked, because she'd been reading the comments without actually giving a thought to them, not entirely processing it until she was delving deep into the sensual bits of Lucy Heartfilia.
Gajeel narrowed his eyes as he grabbed the tablet out of her hand, and he read through the comments about why Lucy Heartfilia was number one in the fuckable department. It displeased him greatly how they wanted to get in her skirt when Lucy was his pet, and it unnerved him that they even thought they could steal her from him after he was done with her.
"Gajeel?"
He returned the tablet and returned to his work, not wanting to speak because he was busy plotting the demise of his co-workers. Their initials gave them all away, and he wasn't that surprised to read Bickslow's opinion about Lucy, because it was well-known how the man was going around every department making it his goal to get into every woman's pants. The only ones he didn't dare go for were the assertive ones, because they would chop him down like a lumberjack chopped down lumber. It would be a huge blow to his ego, so he stuck to the less assertive ones, and according to Bickslow, Lucy would make a fine wine to delight in.
.
.
.
"Did you know, pet, that our co-workers fantasize about grabbing these beauties?" he murmured against her skin, as he squeezed her breasts while she was pressed against the window.
"Did you know, pet?" he asked once more, giving her a harsh shock when he bit her cheek, causing her to jerk in his hold, and he loved the way her skin turned red as she panted above him.
"I'm asking you, Lucy Heartfilia, if you knew?" Gajeel demanded, rising to press against her, forcing her to cry in pain as his jeans scraped against the place he'd bitten, and how his dull nails bore into her skin, not drawing blood but making it feel as though they were.
She shook her head, because she truly didn't know, but that answer seemed to displease him more than please - if the way he released her breasts to turn her around and slam her back against the window was any indication of being displeased.
"Do you enjoy knowing they think that about you?" he asked, but he didn't care for her verbalized answer, because he brought his fingers up to her lips, each and every one of them glistening with her thin dew, and he didn't have to say it but the very air around him accused her of lying to him. |
98d32e34159745c7ab0ef9ec53faf4da | ['f9cdb8076e7149cda9bf1835086c1bb5'] | _”Head of the Gabriel brand, Gabriel Agreste, announced Friday morning that his 23 year old son, Adrien Agreste, would be stepping up to run the home branch in Paris during the companies expansion. It was rumored the end of last year the company would be expanding, and that’s been publicly confirmed at this morning’s press release. “My son is more than prepared to oversee the company in my absence. He’s been a brand face for over a decade, and he and the company have grown together. There’s no one I trust more. I’ll be in touch, of course, but for the next 6 months, Adrien will be the face as well as forerunner for Gabriel.”_
I slowly placed the phone on the bar, pushing it back across to Alya’s greedy fingers. “Well how awesome is that?” she said, her voice overly chipper. “You’ll be working with Adrien for the next 6 months. Half a year. With Adrien. Together.”
I massaged my temples, reminding myself to breathe slowly. “It’s a large company. I probably won’t see him.”
“Or - hear me out - you could have a whirlwind romance.”
“Alya,” I scolded, pointing a finger at her. “This is for my career. My future. And who knows, what if I go to New York after, somewhere new?”
“Okay, fine. Fair enough. It’s not like you still have massive crush on him or anything,” she said with a shrug and she gathered two wine glasses from a nearby cabinet before heading to the fridge. “You’re like, totally over that.”
I could feel my cheeks burn as she gave me her know-it-all glance. “I mean, so I still collect his advertisements and maybe I still check his instagram like a few times…. But come on, it’s been like… five years. His dad sent him to business school right away. He’s been out or Paris for ages…”
“And now he just happens to not be coincidentally heading a company you’ll be working at… for six months.” She set the glass down in front of me. “Sounds like fate.”
“A coincidence.”
“A Miraculous coincidence.”
I’d had two whole days to get ready. Two whole days of selecting outfits and planning what to say and how to act. Basically, two whole days to be a nervous mess.
Tikki was perched on the windowsill of my room, watching as I gathered pieces of clothing for last minute adjustments. I hadn’t had any real akuma battles in ages, not since university. We hadn’t retrieved Hawk Moth’s miraculous, but he’d been pretty low since then. Occasionally I’d still become Ladybug for certain press events, and on restless nights. Even Chat Noir had been less frequent. We’d had a talk about a year into Hawk Moth’s disappearance. Chat had said he still loved me, but we weren’t fighting anymore - He wanted to still see me, without masks. I’d been a new 19, not even a year into Uni, already stressed with my workload…. I had shamefully blamed him for trying to add more stress to my already stressed out workload. He’d responded in kind - did Ladybug not think he had stress in his life too? Did she not want to try to be a team for the regular stressful things? She was his best friend - he needed support in the real world too. I’d burst into tears; he’d apologized, and instead requested Ladybug allow him a clean break. He needed time to get over her. He’d be leaving Paris soon anyway. He wouldn’t patrol, but he promised to be a call away if trouble happened to resurface.
So basically, we hadn’t parted well. And I’d always meant to call, but how did you broach that? And so I never did...and then a few months turned to years turned to graduation. But I still had Tikki…and she said Chat’s Kwami, Plagg, said he was doing really well. So I accepted that.
“What do you think?”
“Everything looks perfect Marinette,” she chirped. “You’re going to do great. I’m really excited for you.”
“Well of course you’re coming with me!” I said with a roll of my eyes. I smoothed my skirt in the mirror, taking a quick mental checklist. Knee length black pencil skirt, high waist, 4 front buttons. Short Sleeve white button down, cuffs and color accents in red with black dots. Smooth sock bun, a few wisps near ears. Signature earrings, touch of lip color and light mascara and blush. Very understated but classic. First day was about meeting and not causing a stir. I grabbed my clutch and tossed it over my shoulder, holding it open as Tikki darted in gleefully. I slid on a pair or low pumps and headed out for Alya’s opinion.
We’d shared a small apartment since starting uni. My parents (mainly mama) had happily agreed we do this, agreeing the independence would be good for us. Excitedly, we’d searched for a small and affordable place. I worked in the bakery after classes to help keep up my end, along with dress commissions and the like.
After an approval by a sleepy Alya, I found myself in front of the _Gabriel_ offices far too soon. I took a deep breath, clutching my portfolio and placement information for dear life. I could do this. I’d face scarier. I just had to go in, talk to the receptionist, get my first assignment, and get through the day.
I pushed my way through the door, trying my best to keep composure as I made my way to the desk.
“Excuse me,” I started, adding a smile as the woman looked up at me. “I’m here for my internship placement.”
“Name?” she asked pleasantly, fingers poised over the keys.
I started to pull out my paperwork. “It’s -”
“Marinette!
I felt something in me burst, some fountain of emotion that’d be sealed off for years exploded love goop all over my insides the moment I saw his face as he exited an elevator from across the lobby.
His face was bright, older, handsome, elegant.
And, oh God, I was still in love with it. | 90e1604b948148618d92a1328ddbd8fe | ['f9cdb8076e7149cda9bf1835086c1bb5'] | Scales. Scales. I have heard scales so many times in the last fifteen minutes that I could even start singing scales, and that's saying something. Do, a deer, a female deer.
"Have you got all the audition sheets?"
I shook my head to break from my thoughts, shuffling the large stack of sheets already in my lap. "I think so. Last check I had 65, and I've counted no more than that here – well, besides us and Mr. Simmons," I clarified, rifling through the stack of papers in my lap one more time. Mr. Simmons had warned me that audition day would be a long day, and as I surveyed all the faces sitting out in the seats, I had no doubt it was indeed going to be looooong. As we'd finished clearing off the stage and dusting off the piano last night, Helga had given me a brief rundown. It was going to be listening to everyone sing, having them read a bit, dance, and then we'd stay and confer over our favorites with Mr. Simmons. I'd be the one sending out the email to those who made the cut, and I'd be the one sending out the depressing email of "Guess who gets to be in chorus? You, you lucky dog, you."
"Not bad," she mused, leaning to peer out around the curtain as I had to size up the crowd. "We should be able to have a nice group to pick from. Awesome."
I chuckled, shaking my head at her excitement. "Sure thing. So can we start this? It's almost 3:30 and I've got a feeling this is going to take a little bit of time."
"Oh. Right! Well go tell people to get seated while I go to our spots. Mush!" she instructed, giving me a swift push, which caused me to stumbled awkwardly onto the stage. I yelped as I tried to catch my balance, barely managing to get myself upright as I hit center stage. I smiled shakily, meeting all the expectant eyes that were boring into me. I blinked against the lights, bringing up a hand to shield my eyes for a moment.
"So….hey!" I greeted, shuffling the papers in my hands. "Welcome to auditions for My Fair Lady. We'll just being going through a series of….auditions? So when your name is called, just come forward and tell us what you're singing and…okay, let's get this started!" I quickly jumped down from the stage and took my seat next to Helga, who was shaking with laughter. I shot her a dark look before dumping the papers on the table in front of her. "You could have told me I was making the speech."
"Then it wouldn't have been as fun," she explained, picking up the sheet on the top of the stack. "Alright, let's start with…Ashley Schultz?"
I sighed, settling back down into my seat, clipboard poised. Might as well get comfortable….
Auditions dragged on for close to three hours, and I was relieved as Mr. Simmons gave the closing speech and waved everyone out the door with a, "And remember! There are no small parts, only small actors, and we'll find a special role for each and every special person we can!"
Helga snorted beside me, looking over to glance at my clipboard chart. I had to stop myself from sliding my hand over it to block her view, reminding myself we were supposed to be working as a team.
"So, I thought it went well! There are so many wonderful talents this year!" Mr. Simmons commented as he took a seat in a folding chair across the table from us.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. So I'm thinking that we should go ahead and agree that-" she lifted up a page on her clipboard, "that no one was really up to par to be Eliza."
"Well what about Lila?" I asked, skimming my own notes. "Or Rhonda. Rhonda...Rhonda has the perfect attitude, really." Which was true; she was the queen of attitude and certainly was no exception during her audition.
Mr. Simmons nodded thoughtfully. "I think Rhonda would be a great choice."
Helga snorted as if she wanted to argue, but instead offered up, "Fine. Rhonda can be my Eliza if Eugene can be Henry."
I thought she must be kidding, but the look on her face was the opposite.
"Really?" I asked, somewhat surprised. Not the Eugene hadn't done awesome. All his work had paid off, and he'd manage to outgrow most of his clumsy attributes. He'd grown as well all had over the years; he was taller, hairier, and even slightly beefier. Mainly beefier due to his decision freshman use to use muscle strength as a way to offset his clumsiness –which, to be fair, was often caused by his weak limbs and lack of coordination. It had helped. But there were taller, hairier, beefier guys that had auditioned I was sure Helga would advocate for. "Sure. I'm all for Eugene. He works hard. I think he'll do great!"
Mr. Simmons nodded in agreement, and we continued down the list. Sheena, Nadine, Lila, Sid, and Stinky were among those on the list I knew best, and we agreed to send out the call-back information later that night. I wasn't sure what for since we were pretty positive who we wanted to do what, but I guess the fuzzy roles were really what we needed to nail down. |
02ef31a8a2574138ac31e3ddf48304ed | ['f9d09a613fcd425c969e17ea0df9b52a'] |
1. Kookie the Tea™ Spiller
**Author's Note:**
> So guys, here's my attempt at a chatfic. lol
> (｡◝‿◜｡)
>
> Taeddy Bear - Taehyung
> Kookie Monster - Jungkook
> Jiminie Cricket - Jimin
> Yoongi - Yoongi (of course) lol
> Hoeseok - Hoseok (lol)
> JinDad - Seokjin
> JoonDad - Namjoon
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> Update: I am now "bolding" the names on the chat, I just realized they weren't on Bold before, and it might be easier to read them like this. But I am slow on the update since this fic is kinda long now lol.
> Please bear with me :)
_**JinDad** created a new group_ **The Kim Family™**
**_JinDad_ ** _added_ **_Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung,_ ** _and_ **_Jeon Jungkook_ **
**JinDad:** Hey kids ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/
**Taeddy Bear:** Hi eomma!
**Kookie Monster:** Hello hyung.
**Jiminie Cricket:** Jin-hyung! (☆▽☆)
**JinDad:** If everyone is free this Friday night, dinner at mine and Joonie’s at 7pm? :)
**Kookie Monster:** Anything to eat your cooking hyung.
**Jiminie Cricket:** I’ll drop by after dance practice! \\(-ㅂ-)/
**Taeddy Bear:** yes yes a thousand times yes
**Yoongi:** the fuck, I’m not a Kim?
**JinDad:** Are you not a member of this family, Yoongi?
**Hoeseok:** Ooohhhhhh
**Yoongi:** but I’m really not? and neither are you guys.
**Yoongi:** well except for Tae, and Namjoon-ah
**JinDad:** THE DISRESPECTTTT
_ **JoonDad** renamed the group to_ **The Kim Family™ - Yoongi**
**Yoongi** : I
**JoonDad:** I got your back baby
**JinDad:** Joonie, you’re about to get lucky tonight *wink wink*
**Hoeseok:** NASTYYY
**Taeddy Bear:** Hobi-hyung, ur name is literally a hoe
**Taeddy Bear** : i don’t think you’re one to talk :D
**JoonDad:** He has a point
**JoonDad:** But, Tae?
**Taeddy Bear:** yes, hyung?
**JoonDad:** Can you decide whether you want to use correct punctuation or not?
**JoonDad:** I’m sorry, but those two lines, with ‘you’re, and ur’ is kinda bothering my inner grammar nazi
**Taeddy Bear:** its triggering ur inner grammar nazi?
**Taeddy Bear:** interesting
**JoonDad:** Oh no
**JoonDad:** What have I done?
**Taeddy Bear:** very interesting
**JinDad:** Joonie, noooooo :(
**Kookie Monster:** I’d pop some tylenol if I were you, Namjoon-hyung.
**Taeddy Bear:** I’d love to come to ur place, hyungs :))
**Jiminie Cricket:** *whispers* he did it in a single sentence
**Hoeseok:** *whispers* he’s not done
**JoonDad:** *whimpers* help
**Taeddy Bear:** You’re so kind Jin-hyung, always inviting ur friends for dinner :))
**Kookie Monster:** He used them in a single sentence. I’m actually impressed.
**JoonDad:** HA HA HA
**JoonDad:** SYKE!
**JoonDad:** I’m not actually bothered HA HA HA
**JoonDad:** I really don’t care whatever you use Tae :)
**Taeddy Bear:** Oh??? :)
**Yoongi:** *sighs*
**Kookie Monster:** *sighs*
**Jiminie Cricket:** *sighs*
**Hoeseok:** *sighs*
**JinDad:** *sighs*
**JinDad:** But I’ll massage your head later baby xoxo
**Taeddy Bear:** Then u won’t mind
**Taeddy Bear:** If i continue
**Taeddy Bear:** wont you?
**Taeddy Bear:** hyung?
_**JoonDad** left the group_
**Taeddy Bear:** That was so much fun.
**Taeddy Bear:** Let’s do it again! (＾▽＾)
**JinDad:** Tae you sneaky smart little shit.
**JinDad:** But anyways, see you guys (except Yoongi) at 7 on Friday?
**Hoeseok:** See you then, hyung!
**Jiminie Cricket:** Yes, hyung :x
**Yoongi:** …
**Taeddy Bear:** Of course, Jin-hyung :)
**Kookie Monster:** I’ll be there, hyung. Thank you for inviting us. :)
**JinDad:** Aww, my youngest really is the most polite ♥
**Taeddy Bear:** /not in bed/
**Kookie Monster:** TAE-HYUNG!
**JinDad:** Does my two youngest have anything to say to me? :)
**Hoeseok:** *grabs popcorn*
**Jiminie Cricket:** *grabs coke*
**Yoongi:** *grabs Namjoon*
_**Yoongi** added **JoonDad** back to the group_
**JoonDad:** Kim Taehyung
**Hoeseok:** you know things are serious when full names are being used
**Taeddy Bear:** *gulps*
**JinDad:** Jeon Jungkook :)
**Kookie Monster:** It’s been a great 5 days, Tae.
**Kookie Monster:** Please don’t forget about me.
**Kookie Monster:** And all the orgasms we’ve shared.
**JinDad:** JEON JUNGKOOK!!!!!!!!
**Yoongi:** Kook’s lost it.
**Kookie Monster:** I’m going down anyway. Might as well.
**Taeddy Bear:** Oh yeah he went down <(￣︶￣)>
**Jiminie Cricket:** OMG where’s the bleach?!?
**Kookie Monster:** You’re one to talk, Jiminie-hyung.
**Hoeseok:** Oh? is this tea I smell?
**Jiminie Cricket:** *sweats nervously*
**Jiminie Cricket:** Kookie :) hyung will buy you lamb skewers okay? :))
**Kookie Monster:** It’s Tea™, Hoseok-hyung. Shall I spill it for everyone?
**Hoeseok:** spill the Tea™ Kookie.
**Hoeseok:** boi are you guys ready?
**JinDad:** I’m scared Joonie. :|
**JinDad:** But I need to know!
**JoonDad:** I don’t even know what to expect.
**Yoongi:** Now I’m curious too. Spill it brat.
**Kookie Monster:** You see, when I went to visit Tae-hyung the other night.
**Kookie Monster:** Jiminie-hyung, was sleeping on the couch
**Kookie Monster:** But, he wasn’t just sleeping.
**Kookie Monster:** He was dreaming.
_**Jiminie Cricket** left the group_
_**Kookie Monster** added **Jiminie Cricket** back to the group_
**Kookie Monster:** You leave this group one more time hyung, and I will spill another story. You don’t want that, do you?
**JinDad:** How can he be so polite and so threatening at the same time?
**Taeddy Bear:** I have never been more aroused
**Kookie Monster:** Later baby.
**Kookie Monster:** It’s a talent, hyung.
**Kookie Monster:** But back to Jiminie-hyung.
**Jiminie Cricket:** :((((((((
**Yoongi:** But wait, is this something we really should know?
**Yoongi:** I mean will this hurt Jimin in anyway?
**Kookie Monster:** He’ll be pretty embarrassed, to be honest.
**Hoeseok:** just spill the freaking tea!!!!
**Kookie Monster:** Right. His dream must have been something really…
**Kookie Monster:** _Good_.
**Jiminie Cricket:** Oh god :(
**Kookie Monster:** That’s exactly what you’ve been moaning in your dream, hyung.
**JinDad:** iauiusrlihwr3ncw3iqgwuahnjsle
**JoonDad:** Congratulations, you broke Jin-hyung.
**Kookie Monster:** Plus a certain name.
**Taeddy Bear:** Kookie, baby, that might be enough for today.
**Kookie Monster:** A certain rapper’s name.
**Taeddy Bear:** KOOKIE. STOP NOW.
**Yoongi:** Rapper??
**Kookie Monster:** Yes, hyung. A **_rapper_**. :)
**Taeddy Bear:** Hey Kook. I’m naked and waiting for you :))
**Kookie Monster:** Oh
**Kookie Monster:** Gotta blast hyungs.
**Jiminie Cricket:** I LOVE YOU KIMTAEHYUNG. | 7ee62c22b9fa469e92664e117da2221a | ['f9d09a613fcd425c969e17ea0df9b52a'] | “Yoongi,” the King calls him, “Jungkook will die if we cannot lift the curse, and at this point, there is no way for us to break it.” Yoongi’s heart breaks, he cannot continue living if three members of his family leaves him, he might just die as well.
“We can’t lift it, but we can transfer and seal it,” the Queen supplies.
“To me, transfer it to me!” he pleads. Seokjin won’t do, he will be leading their kingdom now, it’s up to Yoongi to save his youngest brother.
The queen nods sorrowfully, “I need to touch Jungkook,” his mother states quietly, eyes closing, her breathing more labored.
“Jin! Bring Jungkook here. Now!” he shouts at the oldest prince. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, but he has no room to question his parent’s orders.
Seokjin places Jungkook softly beside the Queen, his eyes watering, and his shoulders shaking from his sobs.
“Hold his hand,” the Queen instructs, grasping Jungkook’s other hand, and placing her palms on the dragon egg.
Closing her eyes, and drawing deep within, calling on the old magic her mother passed onto her, pulling the fire within Jungkook, transferring it to Yoongi who gasped painfully at the searing heat, eyes tearing, and back bowing, but then the pain dulled down gradually, the Queen sealing it down again using her last strength.
“The fire is inside you now, Yoongi.” the Queen whispers, “You must never let the seal go weak, or the flames will consume you and everything on it’s path.”
“But, how?” Yoongi asks shakily, his tears still flowing from his eyes.
“The fire at it’s base is power, you must resist calling upon it.” The King answers weakly, then he gasps, before continuing, “We don’t have much long.”
“Jinnie,” The Queen starts, holding his eldest son’s shaking hands, “You’ll be a great King, love your brothers. Make sure they eat, and sleep properly,” she pauses, and smiles shakily, “Protect Alterra.” Seokjin drops his head at the Queen’s shoulders, body shaking with the force of his heart wrenching sobs, the eldest prince nods, his face contorted in grief, as he rocks back and forth besides his beloved mother.
“Yoongi,” the Queen continues, and Yoongi looks down at the floor, praying for more time, and a miracle, his chest feeling as if someone had reached out to his heart and squeezed it. “Yoongi, please look at me,” the Queen whispers, forcing his gaze from the floor and into his dying mother’s eyes, his face crumbles, his breath coming in short gasps, his mind knowing that in his life, he only has a few more minutes wherein his parents are alive, his family will never be complete again, that after this, he will never again hear his mother’s laughter, her singing in the orchard, will never feel his father’s hugs, nor see his eyes crinkling at his son’s antics.
Moving to kneel so he can place his parent’s heads in his lap, his hands shaking as he gingerly touches their faces, tracing, and memorizing every curve as much as he could, repeatedly whispering, “I love you.” The Queen closes her eyes with a quiet sigh, and continues, “Yoongi, I’m sorry for transferring the curse to you,” Yoongi shakes his head, “but thank you, for saving Jungkook, you and Jin will be his parents now, he’s still very young, and will need your guidance more than ever.” The Queen pauses, and tears start to fall from her eyes, “We didn’t get to say goodbye to him.”
“Make sure he doesn’t blame himself for this,” the King says, his free arm curling around the Queen’s side. “Seokjin, Yoongi,” he calls out weakly, “You three have made me the proudest, and happiest father in the world.” and with this, the King closes his eyes, and took his last breath.
“Papa?” Yoongi whimpers, he has not called his father that since he was a kid. “God, please.”
With the way the Queen gasps brokenly, she realized that her King has gone, and let out a keening sob at Yoongi’s lap, “Please tell Jungkook we love him. Remember how much we love you everyday.” she pauses, glassy eyes looking faraway, “I’ll go with your Father now.” Through the tears in Seokjin’s eyes, he sees the moment the light went out from his Mother’s loving eyes, her grip on his hands weakening until it fell to the floor in a soft thud.
Yoongi let out a broken wail, screaming hoarsely, which propelled Seokjin to his feet to envelop his younger brother in the tightest of hugs, rocking them back and forth as their tears fell.
**Author's Note:**
> I am so sorry about this guys, this is not my usual fluffy, cutesy story. Well it actually started as one, but while I was writing, it turned dark real fast. This is only the 1st chapter though, and I will surely write fluffy scenes (God knows our boys deserve some fluff after this) but I needed to get this part out first, for the story to make sense later. Now this won't be long, probably only 3 chapters.
>
> PS the King and Queen's death scene is actually inspired by Naruto, I have been a massive fan ever since it's release, and I have read the manga, and watched the anime a dozen times, and Kushina and Minato's death scene still makes me bawl my eyes out. I am a super big fan, I even cosplayed as Itachi (with sharingan lenses), spent 3 hours in J-World, on the Naruto exhibit alone, okay I'm bambling now, but yeah I just really am a massive fan, and I cannot get that scene out of my head, and I suddenly just wanted to incorporate that to one of my stories. Kishimoto-sensei, all credits to you for this scene :)
>
> As usual, I really appreciate all your comments and feedbacks, it gives me ideas on how to continue with the story, so any comments you have please let me know :) |
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