#''for o my God it found out me'' hits like a gut punch sometimes

[ajeckaea]

And can it be that I should gain An interest in the Savior’s blood? Died He for me, who caused His pain? For me, who Him to death pursued? Amazing love! how can it be That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

He left his Father's throne above, So free, so infinite his grace; Emptied himself of all but love, And bled for Adam’s helpless race; ’Tis mercy all, immense and free; For, O my God, it found out me.

No condemnation now I dread; Jesus, and all in him is mine! Alive in him, my living Head, And clothed in righteousness divine, Bold I approach the eternal throne, And claim the crown, through Christ my own.

Amazing love! how can it be That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me? 

Wesley, arr. Dan Forrest

[shigarakis-fifth-hand]

Shigaraki x Todoroki!Reader; The Mask

Enjoy the series!<3 one two three four five six seven

Warnings: Extreme abuse, blood, murder, mental issues, cursing

You’ll never forget when your entire life changed for the better. The day you found your purpose, your meaning, your new family.

It all started Friday night, your least favorite night. Your father Endeavor came home early to rest every Friday to check up on your training. Over the week you were required to train 10 hours a day, eat exactly 1700 calories, and to have straight 100′s as grades. Of course, it was almost impossible to maintain such a lifestyle as a 17-year-old, but again, your father was not only the cruelest man alive, but also the 1# hero Endeavor. We’re you almost old enough to leave him? Yes, but at the same time, he would never let you do so. He owned you.

That’s when he first burned your hip.

Your siblings were Natsuo who was 25, Fuyumi who was 27, Shoto who was 20, and lastly your missing brother Touya. Sweet… sweet Touya. Over the years of having children, your father had tried to build the perfect child but had always failed. Fuyumi had been weak, Natsuo had been too kind to hurt a soul, and Shoto was too rebellious against your father. You would be too, but Endeavor had done everything to keep you “right”. 

You were allowed no socializing on the any day except Sunday, you were kept on a tight schedule of modeling, tutoring, interviews, studying, and training, and your father watched you like a hawk.

With you being the last child, he could not mess up with you. You would be the next All Might if it was the last thing he did. He hit you more than any of his children, tortured you more than the rest, and yelled at you more than any of them. And all of your siblings knew that, crying themselves to the sleep at the thought of your bruised and burnt up torso. 

Your father could never touch your face, you did modeling after all. Nobody could know the awful mental issues you had, or the trauma that had scarred you for life. To the public, he wanted you to be the perfect child. Beautiful… brilliant… and powerful. 

God were you ever so powerful.

You took after your brother Shoto, possessing the power to control fire and ice. You could catch things on fire or ice them when you touched things, and once you did, you could control it with your mind. If you tapped the floor with your bare feet, you could start a fire and decide where it went and what it did. You could make it chase someone, make it form a heart, and eventually… kill someone. 

With the power to control it’s movement, you could control the temperature of it as well. You could catch someone on fire and then make it reach over 500 degrees in an instant.

Endeavor loved it, seeing you impress even his fellow pro heroes. Your control over it was amazing, and you were beyond the best they had ever seen. You were a model too, and goodness were you pretty. You had short white hair that went to your shoulders, piercing blue eyes, and beautiful skin. You had been born with red streaks in your hair, but had bleached them out of anger when your father had hit you for not wanting to train. 

You only wanted to have the hair of your mother.

He had knocked the wind out of you with a hard punch to the gut and then burnt your side hip to a crisp when kicked you. “Stand up Shiro. Prove yourself.” He yelled as you used the staircase to pull yourself to your feet, almost falling over in pain. It hurt so much to stand. “Good, now feel the consequences.” As he said that, he pushed you down on your hip, watching as you screamed in pain.

That was the day you ran out of the house, and into the nearby alley, ducking behind a dumpster to breathe. Immediately, you began to switch to a different mindset. You didn’t have DID, but you weren’t normal. One moment, you were crying, and the next you were angry. The next moment, your thoughts would jumble together and you would crave revenge in the form of violence. You had terrible anger issues and a taste of violence, taking after your old man. 

Sure, you were the sweetest thing, but sometimes… you could be cruel, evil, and a demon to be around. But only when you were alone in your thoughts would you allow yourself such cravings as shooting a gun at a bulls-eye in self-defense training, or “accidentally” tripping one of your friends down the stairs.

At those moments, you felt no pity, no love, and definitely no shame in your actions. And outside of those episodes as you called it, you tried your best to ignore it. You weren’t going to stop yourself, because the more you held back, the more destruction you would cause. 

And you didn’t want that, because outside of those episodes, you were sweet, innocent, even fragile. You hated seeing wounded animals, hated seeing your friend get a paper cut, and you never understood your friend’s dirty jokes. You knew what sex was, but why would you want it? 

You had never even felt romantic feelings for someone.

So there you were… sitting behind a dumpster, crying. Pathetic. “Heyyy. Pretty lady. What are you doing out here? Need some help?” A college-aged man started walking towards you, two of his friends following behind. The smell of smoke and alcohol radiating off of them. 

“No, leave me alone.” You insisted, hugging your knees and barely even paying attention as you tried to contain your thoughts about your father, and the searing pain in your hip. It burned like crazy. “But why, you’re pretty and crying. We’re bored and here to help.” 

They kept walking as you looked up at them, shocked and a little scared as they were very close now. “Don’t come any closer! I’m warning you!” You stood up, even though they had you backed up against the dumpster and wall. “Aww, don’t be scared. Now let’s see what’s under that pretty dress of yo-”

In that moment, you sent a spear of ice through the man’s heart, blood splattering all over you in the moment. “W-what?! Hiromi?! Man, this bitch is bat-shit crazy!” As the guys were about to run, you did what your instincts told you. You sent ice spearing through their torsos too, sending them both to the ground. Slowly you walked over to them, rain starting to fall on your head. “I warned you, didn’t I?” You asked, stepping on one of them as they pleaded for you not to kill them. 

“I’m not killing you. I’m just… letting you out of your misery.” Before the rain could start, you set them all on fire. Hearing their blood-curdling screams, you smiled. How nice. They’d be dead before the rain could pick up. Walking down the alleyway, you listened to their screaming of pure music to your ears. You loved every bit of it.

In that moment, your entire life changed. You began your journey on your way to your true passion. You were able to get yourself a custom mask from a shady store in the down-country, and started your new life. Whenever you got bored or your father pissed you off, you would slip on the mask, pull up your hair into your hoodie, and kill. 

Your mask was amazing too. It was a bright red gas mask, which hid your entire face except for one of your blazing blue eyes. It was amazing, watching your victims stare at your one eye as you killed them. They were looking into the same eye as the pro hero Endeavor, your father, and that made you smile. The man who made your life hell had made the latest and greatest new villain in town.

“Again? God, when I get my hands on you I’m going to make you pay!” Endeavor yelled at the tv in his office, sitting at his desk with his feet held high. You were sitting in the chair against the wall near him, sketching in your book. Your father had brought you to work to meet your future teachers, since there was a villain on the loose and he didn’t want you at UA, one of the main targets. Little did he know she was right next to him. 

“What are you talking about Dad?” You asked, looking up from your book. Unlike your siblings, your father made you call him that, since none of his children had ever called him anything near it. He had said it showed that you saw him as a father figure, respected him, loved him, saw him as a caregiver, and gave you an innocent appeal that contradicted your powerful and aggressive quirk. The word had lost any meaning to it.

“Shiro, this villain will be your competitor when you become a pro hero. Look at them. Sources say they’re known for burning their victims bodies so we cannot find fingerprints, or anything. We don’t have a face to go with it, or even a picture of them in general. The only thing is that they believe it may be a female based on the laugh heard, and that they wear a bright red gas mask to hide their identity. It’s brilliant!”

“This bitch has killed over 75 people, and has burnt over 2 million in property damage. This is next level stuff for one person. If we can’t take them down, you will have to.” Endeavor sat back in his chair, returning to his computer. That was about the amount of conversation you would have with him on the weekly.

That was, until you heard an explosion outside, and yelling. Running to the window and standing on your tip toes, you looked out to see the League of Villains on the streets, all running around. Blue flames circled the streets, and you wanted to go join. You had your hoodie and mask in your back pack, and you wanted to get in on the fun, get some promo on the news. The very thought of people seeing your one blue eye was exciting, and sent shivers down your spine. 

“Dad, let’s go o-” You were dragged from the window and thrown to the ground. “Get under the desk Shiro! Don’t be an idiot!” He yelled, not caring that you had hurt your ankle in that moment. With hesitation, you walked behind the desk, bringing your bag with you. “Good, now don’t move. Remember, you don’t get to fight professional villains until you’re a pro yourself.” Endeavor explained, picking up a few things to bring with him downstairs. 

“I don’t want to be a hero.” You mumbled, rocking back and fourth as you held your legs. “What did you say to me?” He screamed angrily as you looked up, not knowing that he heard you. “N-no! Dad! I didn’t- I didn’t mean to say that. I just- eck!” You screamed as his hand came to hit your face, leaving a large bruise. 

“Don’t you dare bitch! You don’t get to say what you want and don’t want! I wanted a son, but look at what I got! Now you’re going to fucking listen!” His hand came to punch the other side of your face, knocking your head into the desk. 

“Fuck, if I had a belt I would whip you senseless.” He murmured as you started crying. “I-I’m sorry… just stop…” You cried, trying to hide your face between your knees. “Oh I’m not letting you get off this easy! Your brother said the same thing, and I’m not making the same mistake again!” 

As you tried to hide, he grabbed a box-cutter off his desk and sent it into your hip. “Now don’t you try to leave this room.” He mumbled, walking out without hesitation, leaving you to bleed on his floor. 

The cut was deep, and you were loosing blood fast.

Only being able to listen to the outside, you could hear the commotion calm down within minutes before your old man walked in. “Get up. Your future UA teachers will be here in five minutes. Put your jacket around your waist.” He threw it at you as you picked yourself up. “Don’t speak unless you’re told to. Got it?” He asked as you slowly nodded, trying to pull yourself together and wipe the tear marks away before two men stepped through the door. 

One had black hair and a man bun, and the other had long blonde hair that he kept down. You recognized them immediately. Radio sensation, UA teacher and pro hero Present Mic with his husband Eraserhead, who was a UA teacher and a low key pro hero as well. 

“Ahh, Shiro! We’ve heard so much about you! Hello!” Present Mic came to shake my head as you shook his, still shaking as Aizawa looked at my bruise. “Ahh, I… fell.” You hesitated, laughing as the two smiled nervously. These two worked with kids… so could they sense your fear. Could they help you?

“Um, let’s sit. Of course you were recommended, but I’d love to see your quirk in more action.” Aizawa motioned to your father’s couch as you all began to walk over there. But in the moment, your jacket fell off your waist, showing your crisped and bloody t-shirt from your father earlier. You could see the burn mark of a hand print even. “Oh my god! Shiro dear!” Present Mic got up to help you before you pushed him away gently. “I fell earlier! If you’ll excuse me I’ll just be a minute!” You rushed out of the room, leaving the jacket on the floor as you grabbed your backpack and sprinted out. You had to get out of the there, to take a break from your father. 

You didn’t care if it ruined your shots at UA or gave you a bad reputation with your teachers early on. You refused to sit there and bleed while they talked about your future. 

As you were waiting for the bathroom, you looked outside to see the League of Villains within the forest. Without thinking, you ran outside and into the forest after them. You didn’t know why, but it felt like destiny was calling you. That was, until you saw Best Jeanist sneaking up on one of the members. 

He had black pointy hair and wore a cloak-like jacket that was also black. Very emo. Slipping on your mask and hoodie before anyone could spot you, you snuck up behind him. Just as Best Jeanist was about to attack and spit cloth strings around Dabi, you tapped your foot, sending ice to Best Jeanist to freeze him like an ice cube. 

“Look out!” You screamed as he turned around to see the frozen pro. “Huh.” He whispered to himself, before turning to face you. With a clear view of you, he could see the red gas mask and knew that you were the one who the news networks had been talking about non-stop. The lonesome villain with a fantastic kill list. But… then he looked closer. He saw how on your hip was burnt to a crisp from someone’s hand, the bruise on your one eye, your bright white hair, and… the bright blue eye. After adding everything together, he realized something. 

“Shiro.” He whispered in shock, before you feel to your knees due to dizziness.

[katybaby00]

Guys my age

Alpha!Sam x Omega!Chunky!Reader 

Warnings: Child abuse, if you’re sensitive to that please skip ahead. Body image issues. ABO dynamics. Smut (obviously). Mating. Claiming. Angst (from the reader). Dub-con. Moc. Daddy kink from the reader. I think that’s it! 

A/N: This is my first A/B/O. Be kind. Constructive criticism is always welcome! I listened to Guys my age by Hey Violet on repeat. So feel free to listen to that song when it shows up in here. Enjoy my loves! 

Beta’d by: @anawkwardartistandgamer 

“Y/n! Get your ass down here!” Your foster mother shouted up the stairs. “Coming!” You place your journal down onto your nightstand and close your bedroom door softly, she hates when I close it loud. You make your way down the stairs, and as you reach the bottom the hateful beta woman looks up at you. Pulls you the rest of the way down the stairs and backhands your right cheek and it starts to flare up to red. “I thought I told you to take out the garbage?” She stares at you, face beet red. If she was any more red you thought she might have steam coming out of her ears, you giggle at the thought. She seethes and she starts  smacking you, across your mouth busting your upper lip open. Then, with her right hand she busts your eyebrow open. You tumble on to the floor and she starts kicking and punching you. Your upper body, torso, and legs. You’re starting to feel your vision go fuzzy and darken at the corner of your eyes. She grabs you by your hair and drags you down the hallway, opens the creepy basement door, and then throws you down and locks it. As you tumble down the stairs an exposed nail slices into your waist and starts bleeding. As your body hits the last few steps your head smacks off of the support beam and your world goes black. 

You wake up in the hospital with your social worker Maria. You and her have been through a lot together. This wouldn’t be the first time she has found you at the hospital covered in bruises and stitches. She is an amazing person and I am very grateful for her. “Maria? Maria, where am I?” She is startled that you’re talking. “Y/n, you have been in the hospital for 5 weeks. The doctors said that you were in a coma. But a very slight one, you didn’t hit your head hard enough to do major damage. And the cut on your waist is stitched up. You needed 7 stitches. While your foster mother was beating you the neighbors heard you screaming and called the police. She won’t ever touch or see you again. I promise. In the meantime you need to get your rest and I will talk to the doctor about your release papers.” That was a massive relief to hear her say that. But you were tired of always jumping from home to home. Never knowing when you would get a good or bad one. You look at her, “Nobody wants a 15 year old, Maria. Nobody would ever want me anyway. I mean look at me. I’m fat. Stretch marks. Cellulite. In places I didn’t even think possible. I’m disgusting!  And in 3 years I’ll figure out if I’m going to be alpha, beta, or omega. I’ll probably be a beta. Nobody would want to be with me if I was an omega anyway! Just let me go. Let me leave, you can say that I ran away. But please, don’t look for me.” Crying into your hands. Maria sets her hands on your leg. “Y/n, I know that things are hard right now. Nothing seems to not be going the way you had hoped, and I understand that. I really do. I want to help you. So I’m going to go talk to the doctor. I’ll see you later.” She squeezes your hand. Getting up she walks towards the door and before she leaves she looks over her shoulder and gives you a knowing smile. You cried because she was the only real friend you ever knew. I will miss her more than anything. 

2 years later and you were better than ever slipping from couch to couch in your friends’ homes, hitchhiking, and hustling pool in your free time at dive bars. You had run into a couple who said they hunted things, you assumed it was like wild game, and wanted to see what they would be hunting. So you decided that one night you would follow them and see what it was. Big mistake. You found yourself tied with your hands above your head on a meat hook in an abandoned warehouse with an IV in your arm. ‘Great.’ You thought as you tried to free your hands. Luckily you were rescued by Eva and Dave, who explained to you that what you did was very stupid and you shouldn’t just follow strangers places. And blah blah blah. You convinced them to take you under their wing and teach you everything they knew about the ‘“hunting life” as they called it. So off you went. Killing demons, djinn, witches, and even dragons. For the next year. Then came your 18th birthday. The day you had been dreading since the hospital. “Eva? What if I’m an omega? What if I’m an alpha? How will I even know what I am?” She just laughs and rubs your shoulders. “I knew almost instantly that I was an omega. So did every omega in my family. I have no doubt in my mind that you will know almost immediately. Even Dave said he knew almost instantly that he was an alpha. You will be just fine. You have like 5 minutes until it's midnight. Then you’ll know. Trust me.” You sat back on the creaky couch of their family cabin and chewed your nails. 4 minutes. 3 minutes. 2 minutes. 1 minute. “What if I’m an omega? How am I going to get threw my heats and how am-`” ''Listen to me,” she cut you off. “I got scent blockers, pills, and everything you will need to get you through this m’kay? You are going to be just fine.” Midnight struck. “I don’t actually feel anything. Maybe I’m a beta. God i was really hop-” and just like that a gut wrenching cramp punched through your stomach and you doubled over in pain. Your body heating up like you just stepped into a sauna. Sweat started rolling down your forehead and you felt the urge to clench your legs together. “Dave, honey, why don’t you go take a drive or stay at a motel. Just to make things more comfortable for Y/n. Okay? I don’t think she needs to be around an alpha this early.” He walks over to Eva and kisses her cheek then walks out the door. “Eva! Oh my god. Why does this hurt so bad? It feels like my insides are going to come apart.” “Sh, honey I know the first one is sometimes the hardest. You just have to get yourself through it. Unless you want me to go pick some guy-” “Absolutely not Eva don’t you even think about it!” You shouted as you doubled over again and you could feel the slick soak your underwear.

Two years later you had gotten it under control. You could feel when one was coming on and you avoided alphas at all costs. Or at least as much as you could. Eva and Dave decided that you knew enough to hunt on your own and you agreed. They didn’t like you being an unmated omega hunting alone but they also knew that they couldn’t stop you either. So here you sat in Kansas City, Kansas at some bar with too many college kids. You looked older than 20 so the bouncers never questioned it. As it turns out, a ghost had been messing with some fraternities and here you are. You took care of it, in and out. Simple salt and burn.You sat down at the bar determined to maybe find a beta or shy alpha, hopefully. You could feel your heat coming, but it wasn’t close enough to draw attention to you. After all, never having a knot, your options were limited. 2 hours and many shots later you were about to give up when you heard the song that made your body come to life start to play. Mainly because it was true. You had always dated older men, then when you tried to date someone younger it ended in disaster. So you stuck with the silver foxes and 25 plus men. You tossed your flanel to the side wearing a tank top and short shorts with combat boots. The bass of the speakers in your chest and how it swarmed your body, it felt like you were flying. The endorphins that flooded your system and how high the song was making you. Plus the amount of shots you had, dancing around this many good looking people, you didn’t have a care in the world. That was until you could feel eyes on you. You noticed your suppressant cream was starting to come off. So you ran towards the exit and practically knocked over an extremely large man with shaggy brown hair. As soon as you hit him it was like hitting a wall of arousal, he smelled amazing. Like sandalwood, whiskey, and old books. Shit. “Hey. Woah, easy there. Why are you run-“ he took a deep breath in through his nose and took a step back. “You’re an omega.” He grabbed your hand and led you through the crowd of people out of the bar and into the parking lot, dragging you behind him. “Hey! Stop! Wait! God, alpha’s never fucking listen!” Even though He was dragging you through the crowd of people his grip wasn’t too tight. He held your wrist with such care. You could tell that there is more to this man that meets the eye. You shouted and yanked your arm away, he turned to look at you. “Ah, no. Not God. His name is actually Chuck and he’s a douche.” You give him a bewildered look, “What? You know what, I don’t care. Look I don’t even know who you are! What makes you think I’m just going to leave with you?” The way he looked at you held something more. Something you couldn’t put your finger on. Like an instinct that you had to follow, that you needed to follow. His eyebrows shot up and he gave you an apologetic look. “Oh right, I probably should’ve started with that. I’m sorry. I just didn’t want anyone else to smell you. I have been waiting a long ass time to find you. I never thought I would, but you were dancing, and I caught your scent and I couldn’t help but stare and then you bolted out and ran into me. I’m sorry.” You look up at the man. “What’s your name?” “I probably should have started with that. My name is Sam. Sam Winchester.” You scoff. “There is no way. The Winchester’s are a myth. There is also no way, out of all of these people in the world, you “Sam Winchester” is my alpha there’s no way!” You start to laugh then. “This is crazy. You guys are obviously fucking with me…” Sam just looks at you. “Listen I know this is crazy. Believe me, we are obviously not a myth if we’re standing right in front of you. I’m Sam.” You take a step back and put your hands to your temples. There is no fucking way that this is happening! Cursing yourself. “Okay… you are definitely going to have to prove it to me. Because I have only ever heard stories, not that you are actually living and breathing. You are way too hot to be the Winchester’s. They sounded so burly and rough. Not big, sexy, strong… alpha’s.” You start to trail off and your stomach cramps and your panties grow damp. Sam shoots forward and wraps you in his arms and purrs. His instincts took over. He sniffs your hair and nuzzles his face into your neck. Sam clears his throat and let’s you go. “Sorry. I just, yeah.” You smile up at the alpha “It’s okay. We should probably get to know each other before you just fuck me senseless huh?” Sam sucks in a breath and coughs. That’s when Dean walks up. His eyes get wide when he hears what you said. Dean looks over at you and laughs, “Let’s get back to the motel and get some liquid courage. We can take my baby.” “That's a great idea. I didn’t drive here, I walked.” Sam turns to you and grabs your shoulders, “You walked?! Are you crazy? You’re an unclaimed omega walking to a bar at night. That is irresponsible and dangerous.” You chuckle and reach into your boot and pull out a silver blade and twirl it in your fingers. “Down boy. I got this covered.” You pat his chest and brush past him towards the impala. Sam jogs up behind you, “So what’s your name?” “Oh right. It’s Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n.” Later that night. You and Sam are by the impala and you’re sitting on the trunk, with your hands behind you and legs swinging off the edge admiring the stars while Dean got the beer and whiskey. Sam clears his throat and finally speaks, “So I never asked how old you were.” You look at him and clear your throat. Dreading his reaction. “I’d like to know your age first. Just to see how much younger I am.” You give him a slight nudge on the shoulder and your hand lingers for a while. “I’m 33.” Your eyes shoot open and you sit up straight looking at him. Your cheeks turn a deep shade of pink. Sam must have noticed. “Sam. I- um. I’m 20.”  His eyes get as wide as saucers. “Oh. I knew you were young but I didn't know you were that young. I just assumed that you were at least 21 to be in a bar.” You sigh and jump down off the trunk. “Yeah I figured that would be your reaction. I mean look at me.” You say gesturing to yourself. He looks at you and raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” You scoff, “Oh come on Sam. Don’t tell me you don’t see it, I’m not stupid. I’m 13 years younger than you and I’m fat Sam. Stretch marks, baby face, cellulite,daddy and mommy issues, and too much skin in all the wrong places. That’s the reason I've never had an alpha or anyone else for that matter. Who would want to knot someone like me? And I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t want to either.” You drop your head and kick the rocks by your feet, letting a tear run down your cheek. He takes his hand and lifts your chin up with his index finger and rubs your jaw with his thumb. “Y/n do you really think that because of your weight and age that I wouldn't love you. You’re my omega. Nothing can change that. Not any stupid number on a scale or of you’re 20. I have waited so long to find you, and now here you are. I didn’t know that it was that young.” You give Sam a small smile and he wraps you in a tight hug. “Yeah you’re right.” Sam holds you tight and gives you a kiss on the top of your head. 

“When we get to the motel can we see if they have another room. I want to wash this awful smelling cream off of me. If that’s okay?” He smiles and holds you tighter. “Of course it is.” Sam puts his arm around you and pulls you closer. You see Dean coming out of the gas station with a big goofy grin on his face. Sam takes notice and laughs. He nudges you and nods to Dean,  “That’s his ‘I’m getting laid tonight face’. ''It's pretty funny.” You giggle and look at Dean, “He has a face for that?” Dean gets to the gas pumps and gives you a smile and says, “Looks like we’re getting separate rooms tonight.” Sam laughs and turns to look at you.  “Oh yeah he has a face for everything.” Getting into the impala and heading back to the motel you lean up front in between the boys, “Hey Dean? Do you mind if I play a song?” He chuckles and looks back at you and then to the road. “Sweetheart this has a cassette player. Not an aux cord thingy. Besides, the driver picks the music, and shotgun shuts his cake hole.” You laugh and reach into your bag and pull out a “Hey Violet” cassette tape. “You never said anything about the backseat. Here. Play this. Number 4. Just do me a favor and let it play. It’s my favorite song.” as the song floods the speakers Dean groans. “This girly shit?” “Shh. Listen. Sam, you too.” Sam looks over his shoulder and gives you a knowing side smile. “So you like older guys huh?” Dean says as he looks in the rear view. “Dean, will you please listen. It’s actually a really good song. You might learn a thing or two.” As the song flows through the speakers and through your veins. You can’t help but stare at the back of Sam’s head thinking about running your fingers through it and tugging. Your body heats up at the intrusive thought and you can feel slick coat your underwear. Making you nervous with two alphas in the car. Sam’s shoulders straighten first and he lets out a low growl. Dean runs his hand over his face and adjusts himself in his pants without Sam knowing. Pulling into the motel Dean gets out and goes into the office to grab another room. Sam turns around and wraps his massive hand around the back of your head and pulls you towards him with a smile on his face. His eyes flicker to your lips and back up to your eyes. He kisses you, slow and soft. It feels like he’s pouring everything he’s feeling into that one kiss. You hum into the kiss. Dean opens the door and throws Sam the room key and heads to the trunk to get your bags. “Hey guys I’m just going to run to the room I had here and grab my bag and stuff. I’ll be right back.” 

After you grab your stuff from your old room and walk to the office to return your key, you walk into the room and see that he has put your bag and his onto the bed. So you grab your bag and pull open the zipper, then an idea hits you and the little light bulb above your head flips on.  You grab some pajamas and make your way over to the bathroom. Upon opening the door you don’t think Sam notices you. So you continue with your plan. Taking off your top then your boots, socks, shorts, bra, and finally you slowly slide your underwear down your legs making sure to bend over just in case you have an audience. You slip into the shower right behind Sam and wrap your arms around his middle. He jumps slightly and then relaxes when he catches your scent. He wishes you would hurry and rinse that cream off so he could scent you better. “Are we crazy for doing this?” He chuckles and smiles before turning around. “Y/n I think that we would be crazy not to do this. You’re my true mate. And I'm yours. There’s no denying it. I just wish I could have found you sooner.” Your heart flutters at his words. In one swift motion you reach behind his head and pull him into a bruising kiss. Teeth and tongues working together to please the other. Sam growls low in his throat and you can feel it reverberated into your chest making your omega instincts crave his touch. Pushing into him more he stops you with a hand on your chest. “‘Mega please wash that god awful cream away so I can scent you. It smells so bad. I want the real you.” You giggle and grab the body wash. “Yes alpha.” he shivers at the title and pulls your body against his front. You can feel his cock get rock hard. You can feel the slick of yourself run down your legs. “S-Sam. Please, I want you so bad.” He pulls you closer, if that’s even possible and he kisses and nips at your shoulders. Trying your best to scrub the cream off you finally finish with no help from Sam. 

You quickly step out of the shower and grab the nearest towel and dry off quickly. Sam followed close behind. After you are completely dried off you go and before you can get some shorts and a sleep shirt on. Sam reaches you and spins you around and kisses you. Making you stumble backwards on to the bed. “Present for me omega. Present for your alpha.” Climbing onto the bed you can’t help but let out a whine. Sam grabs his cock and he gives it a few pumps. As you get positioned you can feel Sam’s eyes on your round ass. He’s looking at the way your back arches for his and how dripping wet your pussy looks. “Good girl omega. Such a pretty pussy.” You come down lower to the bed chest flat against it and arms resting by your head. You don’t start getting nervous until the bed dips, which Sam can sense. “Hey baby, you’re doing so good right now. Look so perfect for me. I promise I’m going to be gentle. I’m going to be so fucking gentle.” he says while he sinks a finger into you. He slides his finger in and out slowly before adding another, which makes you gasp. “It stings a little.” “Yeah baby girl it’s going to. I just have to open you up or it’s going to really hurt and I don’t want to hurt you.” So you relax completely trusting your alpha. He glides his fingers in and out and then he makes a come hither motion and you moan, loud. Loud enough for the whole motel to hear. He keeps going and you’re a panting and moaning mess. You can feel the smirk on Sam’s lips watching you come undone for him. “That’s it ‘mega. Cum on my fingers.” That’s all it took to send you crashing over the edge. “Oh fuck! Shit shit shit. Oh god Sam.” clenching around his fingers you can feel your juices run down the inside of your thighs and you let out a shaky breath. Sam slides his fingers out of you and leans over your body, “I’m not done with you yet omega.”  he smirks and pulls your hips higher and closer to his body and you can feel his cock prod at your entrance. The only thing you want to do is relax for him. He pumps himself a few times and takes the head of his cock and brushes it along your folds, gathering your wetness. “So wet for me baby. So beautiful.” You wiggle and push back against him, causing him to grunt. He sinks the head of his cock into you. Making your eyes pop open and a hiss coming from you. “Sam that’s too much.” “Baby if you don’t relax it’s going to hurt,” he pushes into you slowly, inch by inch, “you’re doing so good,” he keeps going until he bottoms out, “fuck. You are so fucking tight. So fucking perfect for your alpha. Are you okay?” You push back against him trying to get some sort of movement out of him and he grabs you by your throat and pulls you back against his chest. “You’re such a needy little omega aren’t you?” Lost in the moment you reply, “Yes daddy.” You freeze. Sam freezes. Neither of you move for a couple seconds. “What did you just call me?” You take a deep breath. “Sam I’m sorry. I didn’t me-” he slaps his hand over your mouth and bites down on to your neck making you push back into him. He leans down and whispers into your ear, “Say. It. Again.” He enunciated every word. This sent shivers down your spine making you whimper into his hand. As he let his hand fall back to your throat you cry out, “Oh fuck. Please fucking move. You’re killing me. Please daddy?” “Good girl.” He pulls almost all the way out and then snaps his hips forward sending your chest to the bed and a scream to rip from your throat. He grunts out loud and moans at the angle he’s at. Setting a maddening pace that makes you see stars. The coil just keeps getting tighter and tighter the more he fucks you into the mattress. Then he pushes your back down towards the bed with your ass in the air and he hits that sweet spot, “Oh my god. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His name came out in screams like a song that's stuck in your head. You cum around his thick cock and you can feel his knot starting to catch inside your tight walls. He starts fucking your faster and you can feel his hips falter, “Oh fuck Y/n. I’m gonna cum.” And with that his knot catches and you can feel his teeth sink into your neck claiming you forever. He coats the inside of your walls, rope and rope of cum filling your belly. Sam leans over and kisses your shoulder, making sure to lick at his fresh mark. He rolls you both over waiting for his knot to soften. “Y/n. I am so glad that I finally found you.” You take his large hand and hold it in your much smaller hand. “Me too alpha.”

[dazaily]

karasuno first years using pick-up lines on their s/o

soo.. i’ve been wanting to write a karasuno head canon for ages, and i gonna write a hc which turned into a short fic that i’ll probably never finish... so this is the replacement. enjoy!!

description: so the the karasuno boiz were playing truth and dare in their changing room. and tanaka and nishinoya had dared your bf to use a pick-up line on you. 

warnings: implied nsfw. gender neutral reader. fluffy but sprinkled with swears. i was stressed writing this. long af. not proofread. 

. ⋆ 　 *  . 　· 　  ✫  　  ⋆

hinata shoyo

i’m sorry but, did u rlly expect our lil cinnamoroll to know what’s a pick up line?

he babie 🥺❤️

n e ways, it was finally his turn on their little game of truth and dare and nishinoya had dared him to use a pick up line on you.

“a pickup line??? what’s that? will it improve my volleyball skills??”

like i said a bABIE!!

nishinoya and tanaka needs to stop tainting my bbys mind.

“udk whats a pickup line??? how did u even end up with y/n.”

nishinoya is in shock.

and then the plan commenced.

their lil game of truth and dare ended up as a lil plan on getting u hinata to use a pick up line on you.

that night, u were walking home w hinata after club activities ended.

with noya, tanaka and kageyama trailing you, but we pretend they don’t exist.

“soo,, y/n”

“sup? y u acting all weird for? ur usually rambling abt volleyball by now.. u okay?”

“hoW DO THEY KNOW?? WHAT AM I GONNA DO NOW?? THEY TOLD ME TO SOUND NATURAL BUT THEY ALR KNOWS!! uGh my senpais are watching me, i gotta do them proUD!”

hinatas mind ran at 1,000km/h, it was insane. especially for someone who doesn’t usually use their brain.

“um, uM, Y/N! CAN U HELP ME HOLD SOMETHING?!?”

confusion.

that was the only thing u felt at the moment.

i mean u were alr infront of ur house, what’s the point of holding smt when u were leaving??

“whut”

conveniently, during ur moment of confusion, the only word u could form was “what”.

“m-m-mm-mY HAND!!”

hinata screeched at ur face

...

silence. whilst noya and tanaka facepalms in the bg

it took a moment, but ur brain finally computes what ur bf just said

“pFFFFFTT,”

ur first instinct was to release the phatest snort/wheeze. shane dawson is jealous. 

“y/nnnnnn~~ stop laughinggggggg”

hinata was now suffering from crippling embarrassment, as u wouldn't stop laughing no matter how much he pleaded.

omg imagine him all blushy and shiz akdkkoaw-- ok lets not get off topic

“ok,, okay, first of all, u could've just held my hand without asking? we’re dating? you don't need my permission to do smth we do everyday?? and, more importantly, who taught u that line u just used???”

u said half wheezing, half talking, struggling to convey wtv ur trying to say to ur bf.

lucky for u, he was strangely able to understand what u were saying, and he replies with a lengthy explanation of the entire situation. 

“ooo, so that's why noya, tanaka and kageyama have been following us,,”

“hOWD U KNOW??? NOYA-SAN OUR HIDING SPOT HAVE BEEN EXPOSED!!!”

as u left to go in ur house, he stops u by holding ur hand and gives u a peck on ur forehead. 

as he separates from u, he had the biggest smile plastered on his face, brightening the entire neighbourhood.

“goodnight y/n! i love you!”

kageyama tobio

erm, lbr this man would have 0 ideas in the field of flirting.

knowing this, our lovely 2nd year duo, decide its time for them to step in and help their junior in his dating life

despite it flowing extremely smoothly w/out their intervention

n e ways, so they forced the 1st years to play truth and dare w them.

when it finally came to tobio’s turn, the unfortunate child unknowingly picks dare which causes nishinoya to spring up.

“i have the perfect dare for you.”

commencing plan...

so nishinoya dares kageyama to say a pickup line to you, but since kageyamas a big baby in disguise, he dk any pickup lines.

bet he didn't even know any pickup lines, but that's not the point. 

so, being the mastermind he is, nishinoya told kageyama a perverted pickup line.

being the clueless innocent baby he is, kageyama decides to recite the pickup line he received from noya to u outside ur class.

“hey y/n,”

“hmm?”

“do you like dragons?”

“eh? why the sudden question? i guess so?”

“cuz i can see me dragon my balls on ur face.”

processing...

.

what the fuck.

it was like god hit the pause button on earth, like literally everyone just paused for a literal second, turning their head towards kageyama, trying to figure out who tf was the brave soul who said that. 

while still in shock, kageyama just stood there confused, as he was suddenly placed in the centre of attention for no reason. o there's a reason honey, a very good one.

“why's everyone looking at me,”

with that one sentence, the world went back to normal as if someone had hit the play button all of the sudden, leaving u to deal with the weirdly awkward situation u found urself in. 

“ummm... tobio.. do u have any idea what u just said.”

“uhh yeah, a pickup line.” 

at that moment, when he said that, it hit u.

“what did they do.”

“huh, what are u talking about??”

*insert confused kags*

“nishinoya and tanaka told u to do something right?”

“r u a psychic???”

despite being amazed at ur ‘psychic powers’, he immediately explains the situation, causing u to face palm so much ur face may be concave.

there are times where u appreciate ur dumbass bf being a ignorant qt, but times like this makes u wish he was a tad bit smarter.. 

debating ur options, u decided to explain the meaning of the pickup line he just used on u in public.

once hearing and understanding the meaning of the pickup line he used on u, his face lit up like a matchstick, shining bright red, stuttering madly, struggling to get even a word out.

“oh, um, well, im sorry for saying smtg so indecent to u in public, um ill make it up to u somehow,”

understanding him was a struggle due to the severe stuttering he was suffering from, but u managed somehow.

“nahhh, its cool, i should go lecture nishinoya for corrupting my precious baby though~~”

“b-b-b-bABY!?!?”

“hehe, yes ur my baby <3″

tsukishima kei

ugh this salty ass mfcker

honestly can't imagine him being forced into using a pickup line on his s/o

cuz, despite hw much we try to deny it, he is one smart mfcker,,,

but i think he would be curious how his s/o will react, so he would do it on his own will anyways.

umm, so this is how the situation went down.

it was another boring day, and the 2nd year duo was having none of that and decided too ensue a game of truth and dare with the 1st years.

this was how the c h a o s started.

he was trying to leave the game discreetly before he had to sell his soul to the devil. 

unfortunately for him, lady luck was not on his side, as he was chosen to do the next dare. 

“but wait a fucking minute, when the fuck did this become a game of dare or dare, when tf did freedom of choice decide to fuck off like that?”

plot convenience

so he was forced into a dare. 

the moment of dread came when tanaka stood up shouting he had a brilliant idea. and it all went downhill from there.

so tanaka dared tsukki to use a pickup line on his s/o. and his first reaction was no. 

“o come on, u never do anything romantic, i bet u haven't even held hands, sometimes i wonder how y/n’s still with u.”

“says the person who has never dated.”

tanaka shut ups. 

so somehow, he managed to get himself out of the situation. 

later that night, he couldn't stop thinking about pickup lines. he almost spent the whole night thinking about ur reaction. cuz volleyball is just a club, am i right..

he decided to use a pickup line on u tmrw, just to see ur reaction, not like he wants to use one, lmao that's lame, haha. a fucking tsundere.

the next day, during lunch, he left yams with the 1st year duo to go find u.

when he saw u, he immediately calls u. 

“hey, where's yams, u didn't tell me u wanted to eat with me today,”

“nah, i just had something to tell u.”

at this moment, tsukishimas heart was beating faster than ushijimas spikes.

“you know if u think about it we never stop tasting our tongues.”

“hmm, now that u said it ye--”

“how bout i taste urs for a change.”

since it was so unexpected, u had no idea how to react. 

as u returned to reality, u notice a slight pink on his cheeks.

u were gonna come back with a snarky comment, since it was rare he was so vulnerable(?) 

but ur plans were ruined when he glanced at u making eye contact, to check ur reaction. 

ur face bursts into the brightest red, hes ever seen. 

seeing ur extremely delayed reaction, he lets out a laugh, but immediately recollects himself. 

“it was a dare from tanaka.”

you were still bright red, but u felt the blush on ur face reducing after hearing the reasoning behind the line. 

“oh, haha, i was wondering what's up”

u said slightly dejectedly. 

he felt like he was just punched in the gut by guilt. 

“i was also curious about ur reaction, and i am satisfied to say the least.”

he leans down to ur height to whisper in ur ear, before initiating the kiss. 

ur blush returns almost immediately as u returned the kiss.

since yall were in school, he separed from the kiss after a few seconds. this is a place for knowledge, y'all nasties.

“welp, bye loser,”

after the kiss, he immediately return to yamaguchi, leaving u alone with ur thoughts. trying to escape from embarrassment.

he may be equal to the condiment on ur kitchen cupboard, but he still tries to make u happy, so appreaciate him and his efforts <3

yamaguchi tadashi

a babie uwuwuwu

pickup line what's that? hehe omf he's so cute

so how this about to go down. 

so truth and dare bla bla bla... ive written this exact thing 3 times please excuse my behaviour.

since he was bored, yamaguchi forced tsukki to join in on the fun together, a decision he would regret. 

soon it became yamaguchi’s turn, and everyone turned quiet due to the lack of dares they had or yamaguchi.

that was until the one and only nishinoya stood up. 

“hEY, u have a s/o right, how about u use a cheesy pickup line on her!!” *eyebrow raise*

while processing what nishinoya just said, yamaguchi’s face morphed into one of dread and fear, as he turns his head to tsukishima for help.

“u dragged us into this mess, i aint helping u.”

and there goes his only help, well it was his fault in the first place dragging him and his best friend into this mess. tsukishima u tsundere.

yamaguchi was on the verge of tears, thinking of excuses and ways he could get out of the god forbidden situation he brought upon himself. 

but the only thing he could think of was the worst case scenario, which was u breaking up with him.

looking at his senpais, he slowly faces the fact that there's no escape and accepts his fate. 

if this is the cause of the end of ur relationship together, it just means the gods don't want y'all together.

“idk any pickup lines....” 

this was his last attempt of escaping as he bids ur relationship farewell, already aware it was not gonna work. 

“thiS IS WHERE I COME IN, don't worry yamaguchi i am the encyclopaedia of pickup lines.”

ofc his senpais would know the cheesiest lines on the surface of this earth. despite insisting the earth is flat.

and so the dreadful event began. 

after school ended, otw to his club, he met up with u. with his senpais trailing behind stalking y'all, to see ur reaction.

“ugh out of all the pickup lines, they had to make me use the most overused one... im gonna cry,,, y/n i hope u don't leave me after this.”

well here goes nothing...

“hey y/n,,” extreme stutters that im too lazy to type out.

“hmm?”

“k-k-kiss me if im wrong,,, b-but dinosaurs still exist right?”

before he could even cringe at himself, u gave him a peck on his lips while smirking afterwards. 

yamaguchi proceeds to poof into redness after processing what had just happen, as u laugh maniacally in the background.

“u could've just asked for one, and tsukishima already told me everything so u don't need to explain,"

yamaguchi did not have the brain power to comprehend the situation at hand, as he was still affected from the kiss from earlier.

“i can't believe u think i would breakup with u because of something so trivial.. im kinda upset..”

finally coming back to reality, yamaguchi finally realises the situation he's in. 

“o-oh, i didn't mean to make it seem like i didn't believe in our relationship, its just that w--”

he gets cut off by u kissing him again.

when u separate, u began to laugh again. 

“hAHAHHA, ikik, i was just joking around, don't worry ill love u no matter what, now off u go to ur club ill see u tmrw.”

not knowing what to do or how to react, yamaguchi felt the need to do smtg before u left. 

“i love u, ill call u later tonight!”

[spookyspaghettisundae]

Capturing the Sounds of Absence

Memories of the day Little Stevie vanished are still stuck in my mind. And so vivid. Like it was just yesterday. The feeling of pine needles on my skin, as my fingers brushed over the ground where I knelt. An empty little clearing, not far away from the camp’s recreation center. Where I had seen the flash of light the night before.

We were searching for clues that might help us find him. Cyn, you were frantic. Mike, you were calm. I was somewhere in between: I could barely hear anything outside of the sound of blood rushing in my ears. But I was not hurrying, I was trying to pay attention to every little detail.

Yet all I felt was dread. Right then, already, I felt like we’d never see Little Stevie again. I mean, I had a weird feeling the day before when he stayed behind after falling out of bed. Like we’d never see him again if he didn’t come along on the overnight hike. I just couldn’t place it at the time.

Unfortunately, my feelings would turn out to be right.

Even now, when I see a missing kid’s face on the side of a milk carton, I think of seeing Stevie’s picture there for the full year after his disappearance. Feeling a pang of guilt, wondering if I—or we—could have done anything more to find him before Granny Gurdy drove us home from Camp Silver Creek.

It was so strange.

That clearing, where the flash of light flared up in the middle of the night—that was it. I swear that is when and where he vanished. I didn’t see it with my own eyes, but I feel it in my bones. I know it. Just as sure as the guilt that followed, I felt an unnerving sense of certainty.

Even now, thinking about that place—the place of Stevie’s vanishing—it still gives me the chills.

No sounds whatsoever. None of the crickets, no buzz of flies or mosquitoes in the air, not a single bird chirping or any owl hooting. Not a single friggin’ sound except the ones we made in our hurried search. Mikey pointed it out, but I got goosebumps as soon as he mentioned it.

The clearing was devoid of all life. Like the hand of God had reached down from the sky and snatched it all up, leaving behind nothing but that chunk of forest grounds and trees behind. And those pine needles that my fingers brushed over. Digging into my bare knees.

It smelled like lightning had hit a penny. A metallic scent hung in the air, and it stuck to my tongue; like copper. Or blood.

And most of all, the smell of ozone. Even though there was no sign of rain that night or day.

The tree tops swayed gently in the breeze. Like giants, looking down at us. Silent witnesses to Little Stevie’s vanishing. Some part of me wanted to just ask them. Pose the questions out loud: where did he go? What had happened?

When counselor Raymond found us and strong-armed us to leave, anger bubbled inside of my gut. I had kind of hoped that you would have resisted him more; allowed us to continue looking for Stevie. But back then, you were not as radical as you are nowadays. And I had just had no words and no courage to defy Raymond. I felt so helpless, so useless.

I believe the anger remained. But it all turned inward. I’m not angry at anybody else about this anymore, just at myself. If I had been sharper, if I had somehow had the mental clarity to put things together, maybe I would have found something.

Maybe if we could have snooped around longer, we would have found him. Or more concrete clues.

But now, nothing. It has been years.

I never forgot about it. About any of this. I sometimes wake up, just startling awake, thinking I’m still thirteen and it’s still back then. But it’s not, and I feel both sad and angry.

Then I tell myself that there’s nothing we can do about it anymore. It has been five years.

Five friggin’ years.

Now, I know this is getting long-winded, but please hear me out. I experienced something weird last night. Something I can’t explain either, just like Stevie’s vanishing. And it made me want to return.

You know how I sneak around home at night sometimes? To quietly use Dad’s stereo and make the mix tapes of rock music? Yeah, I know. Friggin’ eighteen and they still don’t let me listen to “the devil’s music.”

Anyway, it was one of those nights.

Everybody sound asleep. Even though I had done this dozens of times before, my heart was pounding like crazy, as usual. I moved slowly when switching cables, with enough routine to do it almost blindly, but moving with a careful slowness not to knock anything over. As usual, I was all jumpy and nervous, doing my best to keep each click of the buttons on the tape recorder as quiet as I could. Watching those wheels spin, wishing it worked faster.

And because of that, I remember thinking about CDs at the time. Like, can you copy tape audio to CDs? Is that going to be the new thing? It was the thing I wanted to look into; I was daydreaming of getting that kind of new gear once I’d get a job and move out.

My heart fell into my feet when I heard footsteps upstairs. I froze. I was the proverbial deer in headlights. I was so afraid I was going to get caught this time, finally. After all these years, my mixtaping art career would come to an end. Within the blink of an eye, my mind played through a dozen scenarios; combinations of getting grounded, yelled at, or the stereo cables getting locked away or something. What I dreaded the most, by far, though, was losing access to making mixtapes.

I didn’t even dare stop the copying process, for fear of the telltale sound of the buttons clicking drawing any attention. Maybe, if I was lucky, someone had just woken up and was going to the bathroom.

I ducked down next to dad’s stereo tower. Just waited there, in the darkness, silently stuffing the paper of the track list into the back of my pajama pants.

And I listened.

The footsteps were heavy. It didn’t sound like bare feet, or socked feet, or even slippers. Like someone was wearing shoes upstairs, which was weird to me, but I was terrified to begin with, so my brain didn’t really register this detail until way later.

The footsteps thumped down the upstairs hallway. They neared the end of the stairs until they stopped abruptly.

I waited with bated breath. From where I was hiding, I couldn’t see up the stairs. The angle concealed whoever was standing there.

Then a bright light flashed.

I could feel all the blood drain from my face. My body tingled all over.

It was just like the flash of bright light back then. Five years ago. Like a flash of lightning, but without a sound. And this time, it was up close. Much closer. I couldn’t tell you what it really was. A camera’s flash? A flashlight being flashed on and off? An actual flash of lightning? I don’t know. I just don’t know. My eyes were so adjusted to the dark at that point that I was blind for several seconds.

I don’t know what I was thinking at that point and from here on out, my memory starts to become one big messy blur.

I forgot completely about the tape in the recorder deck and approached the stairs. Quietly. Step by step, lurking through the darkness, with my vision slowly recovering, and only thin beams of light entering through cracks in between the curtains. Closing in on the stairs until I could see up their entire height.

Nobody was standing up there. But I saw movement. In what little light was inside our darkened house, it looked like someone was shuffling through the upstairs hallway, and casting shadows that danced atop the stairs.

No footsteps to be heard.

Sane people walk away from danger, but I think my sanity had temporarily punched its card and checked out. I climbed those stairs to see.

I had to see. I had to know.

Then the smell hit my nose again. Ozone. Inside the house. But all windows were shut and it hadn’t rained in days, anyway.

Once I had crept to the top of the stairs and could look down the hallway, I saw nobody there. All doors closed. All but one: the door to the attic at the end of the hallway, it stood ajar. Just a crack, maybe an inch wide open. Some light shone in through the attic windows up there. It made the shadows dance some more, telling me, beyond any doubt, that someone was moving around up there.

That’s when I heard the whispers.

I mean, I’m not even sure whether they were whispers, or just a voice, muffled by distance. But I swear to God, I’m not making this up: it sounded like Little Stevie. And with that, I mean what he sounded like five years ago.

His voice was too soft for me to make out any specific words.

So I crept down the hallway, inching closer and closer to that attic door. I don’t think I cared anymore about getting caught, though. None of that was on my mind anymore, at this point.

Not even when one of the wooden steps beyond that door, leading up into the attic, creaked underneath my foot. I didn’t care about it waking anybody up.

Some part of me hoped I’d find Stevie up there, after all these years. Plucked from reality, brought back here out of nowhere. I know how crazy this sounds, but it made sense to me at the time, somehow. That must have made me move faster. I went from creeping around to walking right in there. Into it.

In the attic, I don’t understand what I saw. If I try to recall anything, it seems like I stood there for several seconds, dumbfounded, mouth agape. Or paralyzed? I don’t know. It’s like my mind was trying to grasp what I was seeing and still hasn’t caught up to it.

When I concentrated on it this morning and tried to remember, my nose started to bleed.

What I do, however, remember was the light. It flared up again. Just engulfed me. The smell of ozone was back, and now became more intense. And a ringing sound filled my ears. It was deafening. I kinda still hear it, like a phantom sound in my mind.

I still heard it when I woke up. I woke up in bed, with the ripped piece of paper with my track list still stuffed into the waistband of my pants. I was completely tangled in the sheets, like I had thrashed around in bed. And the mixtape? Right in my hand.

I felt like crap, like I had been run over by a truck. Like I hadn’t even slept. And I was so confused. I know it now, as I speak of it, I was missing time. Time between whatever—whenever that light was enveloping me, and waking up in bed.

Sure, I know what you’re thinking. I was asleep—dreaming. But hear me out—there’s more.

First rays of dawn were shining in through the window; I had woken up well before anybody else in the house.

I knew what I had to do. I had to seize this moment. So I rushed downstairs into the living room and headed to dad’s stereo. Checked it all out and realized, with the sense of dread budding inside of me again, that I had not switched around the cables after my mixing session. I was lucky I hadn’t gotten caught, that I had woken up like this. But my mind was not really focused on that.

I slapped the tape right into the recorder, turned the volume down as far as possible as to not wake anybody up, and started listening in to what I had recorded. Obviously, it should not have picked up anything. It was only set to record from the other tape deck. No mic. But I somehow hoped it would have picked up something. Little Stevie’s voice—maybe that ringing. No matter how little sense it made.

At first, everything was normal. Def Leppard. Fast-forwarded a bit. Stevie Nicks. Fast forward. Kiss. Fast forward. Pink Floyd, AC/DC, the Stones. Then the whispers started. I rewound a little bit and immediately stopped caring about where they started. I tried to see if I could tell if it was really Stevie’s voice on the recording, but Mick Jagger was just too loud by contrast and I would have had to turn it up louder to really make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

I fast-forwarded more. Hit play. The ringing sound that had filled my ears—it was there. In my mind’s eye, so was the bright white flash of light. And something else? I think I blacked out for a split second. Not sure. I rewinded, then hit play again.

Garbled sounds. The friggin’ deck started chewing up the tape. I panicked and tried to save it, but the mangled strip was stuck and just unspooled as I pulled it out of the machine. Not the first time I had experienced this, but definitely the most infuriating.

With trembling hands, I manually spooled it back up into the tape after doing my best to delicately remove it from whatever it had snagged onto inside the deck’s innards.

I swallowed deeply and tried to play it back. Seconds into Undercover of the Night, just garbled, mangled noise. It was too messed up, I just couldn’t hear Stevie on it anymore, let alone the ringing. The tape was trash.

So, sure, maybe I was dreaming. But all of this was all too real. And what about the tape? And let’s say, for just a second, that all of this was just a dream: then, at the very least, I feel like my mind is trying to tell me something. Like we missed something out in the woods out there, and that we might be able to find out what happened to Stevie.

Or maybe I’m just plain friggin’ crazy.

(A deep sigh fills the ensuing pause on the tape’s playback.)

The anger at myself from back then is long gone. I just know we need to do something. We need to go back to Camp Silver Creek. Maybe we will find Stevie. Or maybe, at the very least, we will find closure.

I don’t know what exactly we will find, but I am scared. And I don’t want to be scared anymore. That’s exactly why we need to do it.

So what do you think? Are we going back there?

Please say yes. I don’t want to go alone.

(The rest of the audio on the tape beyond this is dead silence.)

—Submitted by Wratts

[liittlemac-a]

Hiraeth

hiraeth (n.) a homesickness for a home to which one cannot return, a home that never was; the nostalgia, the grief for the lost places in your past.

“I told you, I don't like driving around this part of town…”

“Don't care. Keep drivin’.”

Birdy sighed as he turned a corner, grip on the steering wheel growing a little tighter. He glanced over to Mac, who was staring out the window, leg bouncing up and down. His head was purposely turned away to conceal the fact he was biting his knuckle, and Birdy had to tut. “I hate it when you do that. Your hands get all bloodied and gross.” He grunted, not easing the tension in the vehicle at all.

“Don’t care.” He repeated. It was a short response, but his hand withdrew from his mouth. Silence fell again, and after a few minutes, Mac broke it again. “Here- h-here, pull over…” He piped up, head perking up.

The Special Circuit Champion nodded, and did as told. Once the car came to a stop, before he even had a chance to turn the engine off, Mac hopped out of the car, door slamming right behind him as he paced ahead. “J-Jeez, Mac, calm down…” He muttered with a roll of his eyes, quickly rushing out after him, making sure to lock his car behind him. He had to jog to catch up with him, speed-walking at his side to keep up with him. “So, where exactly are we going? You never said.”

Mac's head was down, hands deep in his pockets. His hood cast a shadow over his face and eyes as he pressed forward. “I'll tell ya when we get there.” He answered, hastily. From the tone, he knew it wasn't going to be good. But Birdy only nodded.

“Alright, then…”

After a few minutes of walking, Mac suddenly came to a halt. Birdy nearly walked right into him, blinking at the sudden stop. “W-What's up?” He questioned with a frown. The shorter of the two glanced up at him, then at the building they stopped just before.

Bright yellow “DO NOT CROSS” tape bandaged the whole building, windows smashed in. The walls were ashen, charred black, some of the grass singed right down. The smell of burning loomed in the air, and Mac took a step forward towards the high chain link fence that caged around the place. It took a few moments for Birdy to put together the pieces, and when he did, his hand quickly reached out to touch his shoulder in a gesture of wordless comfort.

His hand gripped at the cold metal on the fencing, a struggled breath passing his lips. “I-I didn't think I'd be so f-f-fuckin’ upset, about this fuckin’ place.” Birdy's grip on his shoulder squeezed lightly, and he inhaled sharply. “I saw it- l-last night, th’ news… W-Was an accident, apparently, but…”

He whimpered like a wounded animal, before growling, kicking the fence half-heartedly. “G-God-- God damn it! Th-That was- that was my home…!” Tears that he'd been forcing back fell out of his eyes like a river, choking on a sob. His fists balled up tightly, and Birdy had to wrap his arms around him to prevent him from throwing a punch. Once restrained, however, the boy only tried to wrestle away from his hold. “I-It's g-gone, it's gone--! Wh-Why-- WHY!”

“I-It's okay, it's okay, it's okay…!” He'd never seen Mac get so hysterical before, and for a moment he feared he'd lose it. Mac's fists flailed through the air, shouting a flurry of incoherent language, before he turned to cling around him, grabbing for fist fulls of Birdy's shirt, face against his chest. He was crying so much, the front of his shirt became damp in no time, his chest heaving and body trembling violently. He leaned against him for both comfort and support, legs threatening to buckle and give out as he sobbed like a child, grief hitting him like a punch to the gut. “C-C'mon, deep breaths, okay?”

His hand rose to Mac's hair, lightly running through it in an attempt to soothe his pain. The tears burned as they fell down his face, face red and raw as he sniffled, attempting to follow Birdy's words as he sobbed. He breathed in, throat tight and painful, chest aching. His heart felt like it had been torn in two halves, but was still beating in his chest wildly. “It was m-my ho-o-ome…” He stammered, burying his face further into the fabric of Birdy's shirt, coughing and choking on a sob. “I-It's gone- it-s all g-go-o-ne!”

Birdy's chest tightened, sighing painfully, head resting on his. His eyes shut as he tried to not begin crying himself, allowing Mac to weep as much as he needed. He was glad the streets of this neighborhood was quiet; the silence and emptiness was almost mournful, but it saved Mac the humiliation of strangers staring. His fingers thread through dyed blue locks, twirling them, as he softly hushed him. There was no words for what felt like forever. But after a while, Mac's hands relaxed, his head lifting slowly with a weak sniffle.

Birdy had never seen him look so… Broken, dejected. Blue eyes fell to the floor, but before Mac could defensively close himself up again, Birdy's hand reached for his. “H-Hey…” His eyes were wide with concern, brows furrowed together, and Mac looked up. There was eye contact for a split second, before looking to the floor again, gently squeezing his hand.

“I'm s-s-sorry. I--” It took everything to not just burst into tears a second time. He held it back, inhaling deeply through his nose to keep himself steady. “I didn't th-think it would hurt s-so-- so f-f-fuckin' bad…”

A soft smile emerged on Birdy's face, if only for a second. “You don't have to apologise. I… I heard it in the news, too, but...” His eyes directed to the building again. An old, run-down foster home… It probably didn't look much better before the fire. Thankfully no one was hurt in the incident. Not directly. “I didn't think, for a second…” He trailed off, head bowing a little. Mac understood. “It should be me saying sorry.”

“D-Don't worry. I-It's fine.” He mumbled, shoulders falling slack. “I… I-It's been on my mind, for a while, this place, an’ all… when I h-heard about it, I- I didn't believe it, y'know? I couldn't- c-couldn't--”

Tears welled up in his eyes again, and he withdrew his hand to wipe them away. Birdy's expression grew sympathetic. He knew Mac's past was very much something he held close to his chest, and whilst he knew the outline of what happened from what he had chose to share, a lot of grief went unspoken for. He supposed Mac had been holding in a lot of pain for sometime, and this had been what been the last straw. Mac's head turned to the ruins again, blue gaze still teary.

“...I jus’ always- I always wanted a family. A- A real one. That's all.” It pained him to utter those words. He breathed in, then out, bottom lip quivering. There was a long moment of hesitation. “I found them.”

Birdy blinked, puzzled. “Who...?”

“My… M-My real family. B-Biological, I mean. I contacted them, w-waitin’ on an answer right now.”

“What?! I--” He halted himself, taken aback by the statement. He had to stop himself from saying something rash in his shock. Birdy's head tilted as he shuffled a little closer. “I thought you didn't care about them? What happened?”

“I don't.” He said it like it was obvious, eyes narrowing for a moment. “B-But I can't live without answers, anymore. I can't-- I- I jus’ want to know why I wasn't good enough.”

Birdy gave a sigh. There was something that rubbed him the wrong way about the statement. Without thinking, he objected. “Mac, you know that's not why they did it. You haven't even met them--”

“N-No, you don't get it, Mackenzie.” Birdy silenced at the use of his real name, and the far firmer tone, almost angry. But his voice softened when he continued. “I- I grew up here, i-in there-- an'- a-an’ they put me through fuckin’ Hell an’ back. All I wanted was t’ b-be… Jus’... Wit’ somebody that loved me, for f-f-fuckin' once! I-- I-I wanted a dad, a mom, a s-somethin’. A-Anything. B-But nobody wanted me when I wanted someone.”

He was crying again, but he hastily reached up to wipe the trail of tears away again. Birdy didn't argue with his response. It was true; it was not something he'd ever come close to understanding, having grown up with almost everything at his feet. “D-Doc… will always be more of a parent t-t’ me, more than they'll ever be, y-y'know. I jus’...” He shook his head. “I want- I want an answer, b-before I lose 'em again…”

“...Okay. O-Of course.” Birdy breathed out. He couldn't stop Mac from doing what he wanted, anyway. And if this was what he wanted, and his parents- wherever they were- agreed, then… There wasn't much more he could do besides root for him in his corner.

“Look…” He sighed  “Sorry, f’ bein'- bein’ a dick about it.” Mac waved dismissively. The comment earned a little smile from the other, and even if his face was still raw and reddened from crying, he managed one himself. He stared between the chain link fence for another minute, before turning back to him, shaking his head again.

“L-Let's go-- I-I'll be here all day, otherwise…” He mumbled, beginning to walk ahead, much slower than before. A hand gently pat his back as he walked, and Mac glanced up at Birdy. The taller boxer's eyes were full of concern and uncertainty, but he wore a smile.

“I… promise. I promise I'm always here for you, okay?” Birdy said, voice soft and gentle. “You're my best friend. I just want the very best for you.”

As if nothing had happened, he scoffed, rolling his eyes. Right back to the boisterous attitude, it seemed. “Oh shut up, you fuckin’- fuckin’ sap.”

Despite his remark, a smile formed on his own face, even if it were weak.

“R-Right back atcha.”

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

here is a riverdale prompt: What about A school trip where archie gets car sick but nobody knows and he's sitting w Jughead at the back of the coach and the teachers are all like 'thank god nobody here is carsick remember last trip with so and so haha' but Jughead notices that archie is being really quiet and finds out

(This is hella cute anon and On the shorter side bc idk how to lengthen without waffling!)

Archie thought of himself as pretty adventurous, and didn’t scare of extreme rollercoasters or extreme sports, leaving the anxiousness to someone like Betty or Jughead. He knew he had a pretty strong stomach, so he had no clue why he was feeling so carsick now.

He had been on school trips before; he had been fine then, and he had been out on buses to Away games at other schools with the bulldogs. But for some reason this year’s field trip did not do him any favours.

Everything about this bus made Archie want to hurl; for one the bus smelled of that sickening car air fresheners in a can that he absolutely detested. His father used to have one of them when Archie was younger; and he hated the sickly sweet smell so much he had thrown a tantrum and refused to ride the truck.

The road was also very bumpy, and Archie could practically feel the contents of his stomach jolt as the bus hit a bump and jumped. The bus driver drove erratically, driving way too fast like he was on some amusement park ride and sometimes came to an abrupt halt, slowing down and then picking up the speed again.

Archie clutched his stomach with discomfort, all his concentration focused on trying not to pour the contents of his stomach out. His head spun, feeling extremely nauseous, not having said a single word in about half an hour. His breathing was shallow and short, in fear that the stuffy bus air was going to tip him off the edge and reenact that scene from the Exorcist.

Archie just wished everything would just be quiet for a while; the extreme loudness of his fellow peers further intensifying his splitting headache and overwhelming his senses. He could faintly see speakers being tossed around, ear splitting techno music blaring out of them, chanting from the bulldogs and the whatnot. He was not a violent person by any means; but he literally wanted to punch someone.

He could hear a two of their teachers conversing up by the front, their chortles loud, each word of their little tête-à-tête not very private at all.

“Thank god everyone’s doing okay, we wouldn’t want a repeat of last year..”

“Absolutely! Do you remember what happened last year with Mantle?”

The teacher chuckled, sighing with the horrific memory with the faintest of fondness, “Of course, how could we forget the absolute horror show of last year?”

“Not cool Mr Anderson!” Reggie yelled from the back.

“Neither was puking your guts out, Mr Mantle!” The teacher yelled back.

Reggie pouted, huffing and crossing his arms in a sulk, as the Bulldogs began to whoop in a taunting manner all around him, batting him and flipping at his hair.

Archie tensed, gulping in fear, not wanting to create a show of himself, especially with the judgement of all his fellow peers. He really did not want to deal with the absolute shame and humiliation that he would feel if he managed to do a repeat of the Mantle Misadventure of last year. Archie was nowhere as popular as Reggie, and this would not go down well for someone like him, he didn’t exactly have the complete set of Jock merits.

Just as he began to sulk to himself once again, suddenly Jughead yanked his headphones off and cleared his throat, shuffling around to face him.

“Alright, what’s up, Archie?” Jughead said quietly, concern and care practically oozing out of his Tiffany blue eyes.

“Nothing,” Archie said through gritted teeth, resting his head back and squeezing his eyes shut.

Jughead rolled his eyes, “I am fine, he says as he grits his teeth in pain and bleeds out to his oblivion. Yes, Archie you are so clearly fine that you haven’t said a word since we’ve been on this bus, when usually you are the loudest fuck here, which is why I wear my headphones.”

Archie couldn’t help the small smile with that, much to Jughead’s amusement. He sighed, shrugging his shoulders, “..I’m not as good as the hiding problems as you quite yet, care to give me some lessons some time?”

Jughead smirked, “..I’m not sure about that, maybe I just have a better Bullshit-o-meter than you.”  

“So, what’s up pal?” Jughead said teasingly, but the root of his words stemming from concern and worry.

“Carsick,” Archie whispered, so no one could hear him.

Jughead’s eyes softened, “Awh, dude, that sucks. Makes matters worse that everyone’s being a total dick about what happened with Reggie last year.”

Archie nodded, “Exactly, I don’t want to make a total spectacle of myself. I love performing, Jughead, but..”

“You like to hone your artistic abilities through the art of music, rather than the art of a puke show.”

Archie managed a smirk, “Exactly.”

Jughead cleared his throat, “You’re totally cool, dude..imma get you through this,let me work my Jones magic.”

Jughead then moved to open the window, causing Archie to raise an eyebrow.

“Wow, that really is some magic, I am absolutely enthralled,” Archie taunted sarcastically.

Before Jughead could reply, Chuck was shouting over, “What, Jones? You finally deciding to take some fresh air for once and actually leave your dark corner?”

Archie moved up to defend his best friend when Jughead rested a hand on his chest to reassure him, to tell him he had it under control.

“It’s cause you stink, Clayton, doing the whole bus a favour,” Jughead shot back, causing the whole bus to erupt in “ooooohs”.

“JONES! JONES! JONES! He got you real good, Chuck-E Cheese!"Reggie chanted.

Jughead smirked with his victory, sitting back as he returned Archie’s waiting high five.

"Nice,” Archie grinned, however it did not last because another wave of nausea hit him, causing him to curl within himself and protectively clutch his stomach, one hand over his mouth.

Jughead frowned, “Just give the air a few seconds to kick in, that’s why I opened the window. The stuffy air isn’t doing you any good..and get rid of that cherry air freshener which I’m sure is one of the factors causing this?”

Archie nodded, as Jughead took Archie’s backpack and pulled out his pair of sunglasses and put them on for him.

“Wh..?”

“Shh, your senses are overwhelmed, that’s why you’re feeling like this, so we should probably try and subdue them, y'know, disabling any visual stimuli? Close your eyes, now nobody can see it.” Jughead explained casually.

Archie nodded and obliged, “That really helps, Jug..you’re a gift.”

“I’ve heard,” Jughead joked, and Archie could practically hear that smirk through his voice, and could hear slight rummaging and rustling until three soft candies was being pressed into his palm.

“Huh?”

“Eating ginger helps carsickness apparently,” Jughead shrugged.

Archie was confused.

Jughead facepalmed, “No, Archie–I’m not implying you eat yourself or someone from the Blossom family–the food! Those are ginger chews on your palm!”

Archie would honestly do or try anything to try and stop this, and maybe even if he told himself it would enough through a placebo effect, it would be worth it so he popped the candies into his mouth.

Archie felt a little bit better, slightly relieved of his horrendous symptoms but he still felt pretty queasy. He could basically feel the contents of his stomach slosh and swish around, trying not to gag as his head continued to pound. “I don’t want to get sick,” Archie whispered lowly.

“You’re not going to,” Jughead reassured, resting a gentle hand on Archie’s arm, the free one lifting up to Archie’s temple as he massage it soothingly, humming ever so softly.

“You got that from Kevin,” Archie mumbled.

Jughead chuckled his reply, continuing to hum softly, trying to distract Archie from his troubles and to bring his mind to a different place so he wouldn’t think about the nausea.

Archie slowly raised an eyebrow, attention zeroing in on the melody Jughead was humming, wondering why the tune felt so familiar and homely. Then, it dawned on him who the creator of the piece was.

“..That’s..”

“Oh my god, are you only realising now?” Jughead teased, no actual cruelty to his voice, only playfulness.

Archie giggled, then shut up and returned to the mindful state he had been in a few seconds ago, “..Do that again, you sound good.”

Jughead huffed and continued, slightly embarrassed and bashful but would easily put away his pride for the comfort of his friend, although he’d never admits it.

As Archie continued to listen to the soft melody, he found that he was solely concentrating on it, and that he was being distracted from his other, more disturbed senses. He was so glad Jughead was here; because that boy knew him the best. He knew what was bothering him without him saying anything, they were connected on this cellular level and he was so grateful for him.

“I swear you have a master’s degree in improving car sickness, Jug, what school did you go to?” He joked.

“The school of tragic backstories and brooding lone wolf types,” Jughead joked, unbothered and fine as ever. Archie tensed very slightly, the darker implication of Jughead’s childhood unbearable to him. He would never understand nature’s cruel way of hurting his best friend.

Jughead rolled his eyes fondly, “Oh my god, Archie. Your lack of a poker-face is part of what makes you so endearing. I’m fine, at least now I get to make sure you don’t make a show of yourself. Save that performance for Madison Square Garden.”

Archie smirked, “You think I’m endearing and think I can make it to Madison Square? Two compliments at once? Woah, is the prince of the dark side finally joining the light side?”

Jughead huffed, unable to stop himself from smiling, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Jar Jar Binks.”

“Hey!” Archie protested, offended, slapping Jughead’s arm, making his friend laugh heartily.

After another 20 minutes of driving, and Jughead successfully distracting his friend with banter and childhood stories, the bus came to a halt as they parked at their destination.

“Oh my god, finally,” Archie sighed in relief, stretching out in victory.

“You did really well Arch,” Jughead smiled warmly, patting Archie’s shoulder.

The teachers got up, stretching.

“Well, I’m very glad that went as well as it did! No one got sick!” One of them exclaimed.

Jughead and Archie smirked, high fiving each other.

“We won, dude!” Archie grinned as the students at the front began to pile out of the bus.

“For now, we’ve still got the return journey.”

“But you’re going to get me through that too, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

[supernatural-idjit-95]

The Curses We Utter, Pt. 2

"Lying Gets You Nowhere”

Series Masterlist

Summary: Sam and Dean find out who, and what you are, with a little help from a feather friend ;-)

Word Count: 1959

Warnings: Cursing, adult themes, violence, blah blah blah. Don’t read if you aren’t 18. :-)

So here you are; staring down the barrel of Dean Winchester's gun. His large strong hand still wrapped around your neck, keeping you still and just barely making it difficult to breathe. He wanted you like this. On the edge and scared shitless. You're hands were grasping his arm in front of you, holding tight-but you weren't able to escape his grasp.

'What the hell have I done?'

"How much harder do I need to squeeze for an answer?" His voice was too calm for comfort. Your (y/e/c) eyes widened at the statement as he squeezed your throat hard, making you wince.

You were gasping for air, clawing at his arm in a plea to release you. After what felt like an eternity (it was probably only about 30 seconds) of his strangulation, he finally let go of you. He took a half step back but kept his gun aimed at your head.

You collapsed down to the floor, holding your neck like that would help you catch your breath.

You faced the floor on your knees, coughing, trying to form words as fast as you could before he could shoot you. "Okay! O-Okay-" Your dry bruised throat paid you no heed. More coughing. "I'll tell you everything. I swear. Please-d-don't kill me yet…" You started to cry again.

'Grow the fuck up!' You told yourself. You dared to look at Dean through strands of your (y/h/c) hair that hung in your view.

Dean's face contorted in a way you couldn't read. And just like that he lowered his weapon.

"Get the hell up." He ordered.

You reached for the bed to pull yourself up, your weak legs were unreliable again. Not being able to walk for a few weeks would do that to a person. And thankfully you were able to stand.

In that moment, the tension between you and Dean was indescribable. Your eyes pierced one another's. You were about to open your mouth and spill the beans-about everything. Who and what you were, your real last name even. You'd tell him if it meant you'd get to leave…alive.

But just then, Dean holstered his pistol in the back waist band of his dark blue faded jeans.

"Come on. Let's go." He ordered.

Dean reached for your upper arm, and in fear you tore away from his grasp. That only made it worse for you. Dean found your arm once more, gripping it so tightly you thought he'd rip it off-and he began walking out of his bedroom pulling you forcefully behind him.

"W-Where are you taking me?" You whimpered. Tears stained your face, and you dug your heels into the floor, hoping to slow him down…but to no avail.

And from Dean came no reply. Only silence through his clenched teeth, his jaw bones protruding in and out in anger.

The two of you met the end of one corridor, then turned and started down another one you hadn't been down yet. It was darker, and looked like they didn't come this way very often. His stride was too fast for you to keep up with now, your long tan legs began to quake once more.

"Please Dean! S-Slow down, what are you doing?!" You begged him, trying your best to gain a response-a word, anything would have made you feel better.

In that moment you were so focused at trying to read his face, you broke your concentration on keeping your stride moving.Your legs give out as he is dragging you behind him mercilessly by your arm, the one he'd just patched up not an hour before.

You hit the floor and caught yourself with your free arm, crying out in pain at a searing pain in your left leg.

'Shit! My stitches…'

You're stitches burst at the abrupt landed you'd just had, a fresh trickle of crimson blood running down your leg.

Dean hadn't let go of your arm yet, the fall happened so fast. To your disbelief he paid the sight of new blood coming from your leg no attention, and ripped you off the floor by your arm once again.

He still said nothing.

Ouch.

You made damn sure you stayed on your feet this time. Dean Winchester was in no mood to carry you, that was for damn sure.

Dean drug you up to a door at the end of the second corridor, and stopped in front of it to fish out a pair of keys from his jeans' pocket. Turning the door knob he led you in past a sliding bookcase, then flipped a light switch to his left.

Terror flooded your eyes the moment you saw what filled this room-it was like a dungeon, or a torture chamber-you weren't sure which, but you didn't care. Shackles, hand cuffs and weapons hung from every wall, and the solitary light bulb illuminated a single chair in the middle of the room. Right in the middle of a Devil's Trap. The chair had it's very own set of restraints, with spell work galore.

You were fucked.

Dean's grip tightened as he sensed you were about to bolt, to try to fight your way out of this. And he was right.

'No no no!!! Not again. I can't….RUN.'

You didn't realize it but you screamed 'No' at the top of your lungs as you tried to break free of Dean's hold on you. You punched, slapped, scratched and kicked at him-you gave it all you could in your state.

"Stop!" Dean yelled, who had managed to dodge nearly every fist you punched at him. And just like that, fiercely he whipped you around to face away from him, held you flush against his solid body with his arms around your waist and lifted.

He carried you over to the chair kicking and screaming.

Dean planted you roughly in the steel seat, and before you knew what hit you you couldn't move your feet, arms, or even your head. Spelled metal restraints held you every which way, even around your neck to the back of the chair. Then you felt it…you couldn't explain it, but the spell work on the restraints and chair were keeping you in a way that made your spine quiver.

And you stopped. You stopped crying, you stopped kicking and trying to break free; you just shut down. You didn't know it then, but mentally you couldn't handle it. You'd just escaped the horrendous grasp of demons and torture, for weeks you'd endured pain you'd never imagined; you couldn't grasp going through something like that again. You were on auto-pilot.

"Dean?!" Sam's voice bellowed through the bunker.

'Oh my god, maybe he can talk some sense into him!!' You hoped.

"Sammy! In the dungeon!" Dean hollered back through the door way.

You're gut wrenched at the word, and you squeezed your eyes shut quickly. You didn't want to hear that word.

Sam's footsteps were nearing the door as he started to yell out to Dean again. "You okay?! I saw the blood in the hallwa-" He saw the scene unfolding before him. His mouth dropped and glanced between the two of you.

"-Dean what the fuck?! What the hell is going on here?!!" Sam jogged over to you. "Are you okay?!"

You only got the chance to meet his eyes before Dean cut you off. "She's not who she says she is, Sam!" Dean pointed his finger at you.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Sam exclaimed, taking one quick step backward.

"Just trust me, okay?!" Dean rose his voice annoyed that his brother was questioning his judgement. He walked closer to Sam to explain.

"Sammy, think about! Those demons-it's probably a freakin' set up man! I mean, SERIOUSLY -what if they knew we were on our way to gank 'em, huh? The whole…" Dean gestured to you as Sam's head was cocked in interest. "…The whole 'insanely sexy damsel in distress' dangled right in front of us…she's probably working for 'em! Maybe, just maybe they wanted someone on the inside of the bunker…"

Dean's voice trailed off, and damn it! If you were Dean you'd be thinking the exact same thing right now. Of course, it'd be perfect-but unfortunately for you, that was going to make it harder for them to believe you. And at the same time, your inner-goddess was blushing because Dean Winchester just called you 'insanely sexy'. 'Well, there's one win at least…'

You looked at Dean then at Sam, but they were completely ignoring you. You expected Sam to come to your defense, but when he didn't, your heart sank.

He ran his fingers through his hair and cursed out loud, with an angry huff. "Damnit! How could we have been so stupid?! I told you we shoulda left her at the hospital, Dean!" He pointed his finger at his older brother.

"Hey, excuse me for tryin' to help her out!!" Dean protested.

They were both angry at the scenario they thought to be true.

"No Dean, you got all googley-eyed over a pretty girl, and you let your guard down!" Sam yelled at Dean again, who's annoyance was building.

You wish they'd stop talking about you like you weren't there. But you guessed that was how they acted in front of monsters. Monsters.

'I am not a god damned monster…'

You knew you had to speak up while they paused. "Will you let me tell you the truth?…Please?" You managed the words out, they were quiet and broken, but precise.

They both turned to you, jolted out of their angry exchange.

Sam clenched his fists at his sides and stepped forward into the Devil's Trap. "Start talking."

Sam towered over you, waiting for you to speak. Dean joined him, both of them had their best 'bitch faces' on.

"I'm a hunter." You decided to start off slow, ease into the whole 'I'm the spawn of a Demon and an Angel' thing.

You paused waiting for them to reply, but they only raised their eyebrows waiting for you to continue.

You sighed a breath you'd been holding in for a long time.

"I've been hunting since I was 15. My Mom didn't come home one day, and I've never met my Dad." You looked down at the floor. This was harder than you thought.

"Cool story, we'll send you a sympathy card sometime-get to the part that matters!" Dean yelled.

You nodded, averted his gaze, and cleared your throat. "The-Uh…the special thing about my p-parents is…that they weren't completely human…"

Dean narrowed his eyes, and Sam crossed his arms; they were intrigued.

"My Mom…she-she was an Angel-IS an Angel, I mean I'm not sure if she's alive but-" You were interrupted by Sam.

"Wait, so you're a Nephilim?" He asked. You shook your head.

"Uh, no…not exactly. My Dad…h-he um…" You were tripping over your words, stuttering like an idiot.

"Oh for fuck's sake! Spit it out!" Dean screamed at you in frustration.

You jumped at the volume of his voice and opened your mouth to finish, when a man's voice you hadn't heard before boomed out throughout the dungeon.

"Sam, Dean! Let her go!" You couldn't see him, but Dean and Sam both turned on their heels to face him.

Dean said, "Where the hell have you been Cas?!"

[loveisaviolence3]

tasha has her own anger, of course, but it has nowhere to go. she’s glad for that sometimes, which always feels cowardly, but what can she say — she doesn’t want reasons, and people always have them. even lucas would have them if he were here to demand them from, and she still feels weary from their arguments thirteen years later. you could say she’s been living on borrowed time for quite some time now and that’s at least partially to blame, hazard a guess that a thing like that could make time sort of slow to a stop, but sometimes she doesn’t believe she’s made it past twenty seven even though she often feels so old the number of years she’s been alive seems complicit in the series of lies she’s told, and though she can’t fathom living past how old lucas had been when he died, she expects anything he could have to offer would wear her down just as much if she did. she wishes she could want the fight for them — for vinh, for sara, for dolan, for jonas, for ira. the screaming match, the denial of each and every excuse and justification, but fighting with lucas has always made her queasy, and more and more she finds herself just so tired. 

there isn’t a day where tasha doesn’t want to see justice done, but she doesn’t always want the confrontation, doesn’t always want the anger. but that doesn’t mean she can let it go — letting it go would mean their crimes don’t matter, and vinh isn’t here to be angry for himself and there’s no one left to be angry for him except her. besides christian, she’s the only person left alive to have loved him, and that makes her responsible. when she finally fought off the blinding agony of whatever they’d injected her with and she could see more than a foot in front of her, she knew she was not done being responsible yet. there was still so much for her to carry. 

god knows christian loved him as much as she did, but he doesn’t carry that hate around in his heart, and she’s never wanted him to. no one should ever have to hate family; no one should have to dig around in the back of the closet for forgotten, abandoned dead bodies to lay to proper rest. she thought she could protect him from that — carry that burden alone. dig the graves, lay the flowers every year, curse what took them away. she could condemn them in her heart when all it wanted to do was rest and he could let the ghosts go. 

she never wanted him to feel like he had to hate his parents, not for any one or any thing, but she’s more than certain now that he hates her. 

and she doesn’t want to be the explanations she imagines lucas might have come up with, the love tatiana had turned inside out and spat at her with razor sharp efficiency, doesn’t really want to be here at all. in this room, in this body, in this life. but still there is something desperate rising up in her, clawing at her throat the way it does whenever she thinks too hard on the past — scared and pleading and not at all like the punching bag she’s trying to be, prepared and equipped to take any hits christian has for her. it happens especially when bellamy’s mentioned like this, in the context of her childhood — some wildly throbbing, horribly aching young thing in her reliving it all again. there’s something particularly painful about their situation now, and she feels it with every breath she takes, but she can deal. the sixteen year old girl that stirs as christian speaks of time winding backward has no such discipline — there’s nothing for her to bite down on, no tolerance for pain to speak of, no threshold. and both of them feel the agony of this conversation like a sword sent straight through, one entangled in tasha’s fears in the present and the other in tasha’s fears in the past. 

both want, with such fatal intensity, to cry. surprisingly, it’s the girl rather than the woman that holds back. ozeras stand tall; ozeras don’t break; ozeras don’t cry. she remembers telling herself that over and over again when she ended things with bellamy — that she had to be strong, that she couldn’t be weak, remembering lucas’ voice in her head when she’d accepted his role in what tatiana had done, explaining that this was merciful: tatiana’s hand had been played early in the game, leaving her with no cards left to play; by forcing her to break up with bellamy, he could no longer be used against her. if bellamy had still been in the picture, tatiana could have used him against her for a very long time before they broke it off because it got to be too much or tatiana needed a final blow. bellamy being out of the picture meant he was forgotten, out of sight out of mind, and that made him safe. which meant she didn’t. she made him the opposite. 

because of what’s inside her that had love ripped away and is still reeling from the loss ten years later after all of this time and practice. that weakly wants to try and explain, that breaks somewhere and can’t help the strain in her voice.  “ i tried-  ” is all she can say — before the end, she tried, but of course there wasn’t time, of course he couldn’t understand. and that there were years and years before when she could have, and nothing to say for herself at all.  “ i didn’t know how to explain that to you, christian. you were eleven years old, and i — ” was devastated, and young, so young. too young to have his heart in his hand like she did, to have had no one holding hers.  “ you were a kid, and i was a kid, too. ”  it doesn’t feel like an explanation so much as a confession to something horrible — that she wasn’t ready, that she failed. 

maybe it’s a part of her accepting that he isn’t a kid anymore, or maybe she’s just too broken down to do anything different, but that part of tasha on guard against her own pain drops, and whatever barrier she had protecting her from the agony of the past wanes away.  “ and that was the first time i ever hurt you. ”  she’d promised herself it would be the only time, but of course it wasn’t. the truth may be that she’s hurt him every single day since without realizing it, and the agony of that is so severe she can hardly stand. her voice trembles around it.  “ i didn’t know how to explain it, i didn’t know what to do. i didn’t know how to make it better for you, or octavia, or bellamy — or me. and i didn’t — i didn’t have anyone i could ask. i was alone. but i never wanted you to think that — i tried so hard to make sure you didn’t. but there i was nothing i could say that could have convinced you — except the truth. and i couldn't tell you that then. ”  she didn’t have a parent, she means. and she lost bellamy. now she realizes that being alone in that decision had been a choice, but she hadn’t then — she’d just reacted. and when she’d told him they were broken up, she’d tried so hard to make him understand that it was no one’s fault, that bellamy wasn’t to blame, but of course it hadn’t mattered, of course it hadn’t made a difference. 

bellamy and octavia are just as much my family as you are, she remembers telling lucas, hating how close to tears she was and how easily he could tell. and they’re christian’s, too. and that is not just on me. you did that to him too. but tasha did this to him, and so her anger — still present, building in the back of her neck as the worst kind of tension — can do nothing for her, even if lucas, she’s realizing now, was not a kid. lucas, she can’t help but think, should have done something. should have... cared. she, she’s thought every day since she woke up in the hospital afterward, should have done something when she saw him changing. instead, he’d come to her the next day with apologies and she’d been so desperate not to lose anymore family that she’d accepted them. and in the time after, he was good to her. he made an effort, he seemed sincere. 

and then he sunk his teeth into a human girl’s — angie dawson’s, tasha had found out — neck and fed until he felt her go limp in his arms. 

she steps toward him, wanting so badly to touch him, and then — reaching out. because the part of her that’s held back for fear of overstepping has been broken down, because so many parts of her have been broken down, and she can no longer see what she’s doing until she does it.

“ i’m sorry. i’m so sorry i didn’t tell you when you got older. i’m so sorry i never figured that out. ” so sorry she still doesn’t know how to tell people things, that her gut instinct is still to hold them as close to herself as she possibly can even when they’re looping around her neck and pulling themselves taut.  “ i should have seen what it did to you — how much it still hurt you. but i was blinded to it. i didn’t.. i didn’t see it until now. i couldn't. but i should have. ”  and the idea that she was so blinded by her own pain that she couldn’t see his is more than she can stand.  

she flinches at what he says next, but it doesn’t stop her.  “ no, ” she says firmly, but her eyes are burning.  “ it’s me. it’s not you, it’s not us, it’s not the ozeras. it’s me. this is on me. i’m the one hurting them. i’m the one who keeps hurting them. ”  she swallows.  “ bellamy isn’t angry with you, he’s angry with me. i appreciate you feeling like you have to defend me, but you don’t need to. that’s not your job. and nothing you could ever say would change how he feels about you. ”  you saved o’s life, but she’s in more danger now than ever because she won’t talk to any of us now. somehow that hurts more than bellamy’s silence, and she wasn’t sure anything could hurt more than that. but of course, what kills her more than bellamy’s anger is that he’s right. that octavia is at risk right now because of her,  because she's alive, because she exists, and there’s nothing she can do. that’s its own kind of hell for her, and having been in his shoes before, terrified for christian, only adds to her guilt. she knows what she’s feeling, she knows, and octavia isn’t her daughter, but the terror she feels is the kind only a parent can feel, the kind bellamy feels doubled. 

“ i know, ” is all she can say, and it’s a horrible whisper.  “ and i don’t expect you to forgive me for that, or for bellamy or octavia to. i don’t want that. ”  how can she when she can’t forgive herself? she doesn’t deserve it; if anyone knows that, it’s her. but she wanted christian to forgive bellamy, wanted them to have each other.  “ i just needed you to know that... bellamy isn’t going to leave you. even if he leaves me, he’s never going to be leaving you. he isn’t now — octavia is just all he can think about. there's... there's no place worse than where he is right now. there's no worse hell, nothing that could break you down more. it's the worst place there is. ”  and she’s certainly doing her fair share of thinking about her, spending so much time in hell that she's put down first and last payment and every one in between. if only he could pick up on that, see just how much she's speaking from experience.

[alice-in-every-land-blog]

Lakeside Talk / Lyddel Lions

In which Alice and Kiara have a serious talk.

Trigger Warnings: So much Gay, self-deprecating thoughts, mentions of physical abuse, shitty childhoods, therapy, and death/grief.

Alice spotted Kiara first. Admittedly, there was a long while where she didn't know how to approach the girl. Her initial reaction was to smile and go up and surprise Kiara in a cute way, but then her heart sunk to the pit of her stomach a tiny bit when she remembered Jenny. And the club. Still, she didn't want to rush into assuming Kiara was a cheater, despite all the girl had said. After all, she didn't know Jenny any better than she knew Kiara. So if Kiara was a bad person, Alice would learn that. And if Kiara was a good person, Alice would learn that too. She had to go in with the benefit of the doubt or she would ruin her own opinion before it was fairly formed. So with a deep breath, the blonde pushed herself forward and snuck up behind the girl, placing her hands over her eyes. "Guess who," she said in a low voice, curious if Kiara would guess correctly the first time or not.

Kiara actually startled as her vision left her, two hands over her eyes-- and she reacted without thinking, elbowing the person in the gut, just hard enough for her to release her. Kiara whirled around and saw who it was immediately. "Ooooh, my gosh, no, I'm so so sorry," she blurted, reaching out and grabbing at Alice's forearm. "Did I hurt you? You scared me, sorry I--" I thought you were my stepfather. "I'm uh-- jumpy." She chuckled a bit nervously, hoping to pass it off as a joke.

Alice let out a harsh grunt as sharp pain hit her stomach, and for a second, it was hard to breathe. Eventually, she gasped, free hand on her abdomen while her other arm stayed locked in Kiara's grip. "W-What are you jumpy for? My goodness, that packed a punch. I-I didn't mean to frighten you."

Kiara didn't want to go into why she was jumpy, so she decided to just ignore that. "Oh no, it's okay! I didn't mean to wallop you in the stomach. I owe you one, huh?" She said. "You got a drink already sooo... maybe I can get you somethin else?" She grinned all innocent, tempted to even flutter her eyelashes (would match the butterflies in her own stomach, that made her feel all giddy, like jumping up and down now that Alice had appeared).

Alice couldn't help the way her body relaxed and her own eyes fluttered in response, smile twitching on her face. What was it about this girl that was so magnetic? She pulled her in a natural way that Jenny hadn't. "O-Oh?" she stuttered, a bit caught off guard, but soon her face scrunched up as she teased the girl. "Is that what you do? You hurt me just so you can make it up to me?" Wait. Too close to being passive aggressive? She hoped not. She didn't want to start accusing Kiara of anything. She threw in a laugh. "But really, I'm not entirely sure what you could mean." Alice took a step closer to the girl, pretending to pick something off the shoulder of her shirt.

Kiara smiled even wider. The whole hurting/making it up to her bit sort of slid off her if only because Alice was so close, and so sweet, and Kiara could count all her freckles. (If she thought about it, she'd think about Zella. She'd think about Zella and get empty inside, wishing Zella would come and fill her up again, knowing that it would only dig the holes deeper). "Well I can think of a few things. If you need suggestions," said Kiara coyly, and she reached forward and gently curled one of her fingers around Alice's.

Alice couldn't take it. She was being too fucking cute and she felt all tingly and filled with exploding glitter and was Kiara wrapping a single finger around one of her own? God, if she was a cheat, she was a damn charming one. Her smile widened and became more genuine, a soft blush tinting her cheeks. "Mmm, suggestions are always nice. But perhaps I could use my imagination." She leaned forward, brushing her nose against the other girl's, back and forth. "I've been told I'm quite good with it."

Kiara wanted to grab this girl's face and snog her right there. She wanted to snog her for ages. Her toes curled in her converse. "And what's you're imagination sayin' right now?" She asked in a light voice, just above a whisper, as she resisted all those urges of hers.

Alice had to admit, there were a lot of things suddenly going through that very, very big imagination of hers. "I could tell you," she said, looking down at Kiara's lips for a moment, "-or show you." Giggling, Alice did a little push up on her toes and quickly placed a kiss on the girl's nose before settling back down on her feet with a smile. She had to resist the way her brain whispered she would happily 'take this somewhere more private' if asked. "But that's no fun. Come- tell me about London Pride. I do wish I could've gone. Very much so. I would've loved to spend it with you."

Kiara wanted to squeal and jump up and down, but she managed to contain all that energy and just take the girl's hand, giving it a squeeze. "Sure! It was magic, lemme tell you. Like-- not magic in that sort of way, but in a whole different kind of way. Everyone felt it," she said as she tugged Alice along, looking for somewhere to sit down.

Alice let herself be tugged and guided, having serious deja vu to when she'd met Kiara the first time. "That reminds me of a quote, actually," she laughed in response, thinking of the very lines she had just posted on her brand new instagram. Her first post, in fact, but apparently people were very into their social media here. And she needed friends. "Maybe I'll read it to you sometime. That sounds bloody amazing, though. I didn't have near as fun a time as you."

Kiara looked back at Alice. Didn't that sound romantic-- getting read to? Maybe she could put her head on her lap and Alice would stroke her hair and Kiara would fall right asleep. "I wish you woulda come then. We coulda marched in the parade together. Or skipped in the parade," said Kiara and she skipped then and there as if to prove a point, giggling a little.

Alice waved Kiara off with her free hand. "While that sounds just lovely, I'm sure you had an excellent time while I worked. I'm sure you met some lovely girls. I was very sociable at the last night of Pride at Pixies. I had a few strange encounters, but I'm glad I experienced it." Read: Please tell me you snogged someone else so I don't feel bad for snogging someone else even though there's no reason for that to be a bad thing since we aren't in a relationship.

Kiara looked back again, tilting her head. Her steps slowed back down to walking speed. Because well, she wasn't stupid, strange encounters definitely sounded like-- well. Hook-ups. Not that Kiara owned Alice. She didn't. They weren't...anything (Kiara had no idea how to feel about that, just knew that she probably shouldn't be with someone anyway). "I mean, not really. I was with my cousin and his boyfriend, and my uh, sort of...stepmom," she said with a shrug and an easy smile. "Was all very PG. Yours sounds more, er, thrilling, huh?"

Alice was afraid to say she regretted this immediately. No, no. She shouldn't regret. She had told herself she wouldn't. After all, that was the good advice, wasn't it? She should be following it. Just like she was when she told herself they needed to talk about this. "Um..." Alice bit at her lip, and brought Kiara's hand up so she could play with her fingers idly. She had a way of playing with hands, all the time. She felt as if she could see little, tiny glimmers of the soul in them. Auras, maybe. That was one word for it. Energies? She didn't know if that was accurate. But she did know she liked trying to find someone in their palms. It's what she did as she took a deep breath, and brought up Jenny. "Well, I wouldn't exactly say thrilling. It was... unexpected. I met a girl who said she knew you."

Her and Alice had sort of meandered to a stop now. Kiara kinda found this a bit weird-- because she knew that Alice was gonna tell her she kissed someone else. Which, y'know, was totally fine. It really was. Kiara didn't feel jealous. She just wanted to be able to kiss Alice too, at least, until she figured out the shapes of all those butterflies and what they meant. And then she mentioned that she knew the girl and Kiara blinked rapidly. "Oh? Uh, who was it?" she asked.

"Er- she said her name was Jenny, I think?" Alice tried to remember features in the darkness of the club. "Dark hair, light eyes. And she... said some things. I didn't want to believe them blindly though without hearing from you, first." Alice flicked her gaze nervously up to Kiara's, heart fluttering a bit anxiously. "I just want honesty, really. I'm not so judgemental anyhow. There's nothing to worry about as far as me not wanting to talk to you again goes. She just... mentioned that you got into fights. And... that you had a girlfriend. A serious one?"

First, she was shocked because, uh, Jenny? Of all people. And then she said dark hair and light eyes neither of which red-haired-brown-eyed Jenny had. And Kiara didn't think she knew any other Jennies. And then she said that OTHER bullshit that made the smile drop clean off Kiara's face. "What? I -- I don't. Have a girlfriend, a serious one," she said, rather bluntly. "I um, I'm kind of dating someone but we're taking it really slow. You said her name was Jenny?" She said, her voice turning a little sharp. There was no way it was Jenny. Jenny was a bitch but Jenny didn't have anything against Kiara. Why would Jenny say that? The answer: she wouldn't. Kiara had that empty feeling again, the one that had Zella's name all over it.

Alice wasn't sure what reaction she expected, but regardless she was a bit startled. A part of her wanted to shush Kiara calmly and so she kept playing with her hand, rubbing circles into the lines with her thumbs. "Jenny, yeah. I'm certain, now. That tone clears right through drunk memories." Tilting her head, Alice's brows furrowed in a mixture of confusion and worry. "Are you alright?"

Kiara was not alright. She didn't know how to describe it and she didn't want to because she should be alright, she shouldn't be, well, her, little Miss Fuck Up , little Miss Emotion. She wanted to push away the thunderstorm growing inside of her. She wanted to just concentrate on the way Alice played with her hand. It wasn't even that Alice had kissed someone else, it was that it might have been (it was it was) Zella. Her whole brain wanted to combust. It was just another one of Zella's fists flying. Kiara bit down on her own lip and looked sideways. "I just-- don't know any Jennies with dark hair. I only know one Jenny, and she's ginger." She looked down at their hands still entwined. She felt limp. "I think it was-- this girl, Zella. Who like, hates me or whatever." She shrugged and tried to roll her eyes like it wasn't a big deal.

Alice didn't know what to do with this information. Kiara only knew a Jenny with red hair. This girl definitely hadn't had red hair. That would have stuck out. It would have been noticeable. Memorable. Instead, this girl's dark hair and aggressive come-on’s had been what made an impression. "Zella?" she asked, shaking her head. "She definitely said her name was Jenny. Jenny... Foxworth, I believe? Something with foxes being of worth. I recall that much. But she definitely wasn't ginger." And she didn't like the way Kiara looked, like a kicked puppy. She didn't want to be stupidly buying into an act, but what if Kiara was telling the truth and this 'Zella' was the one who had acted? Instinctively, she squeezed the other girl's hands. "Why does she hate you? And why would she give me a fake name?" It just... didn't make sense.

Kiara let out a harsh breath-- half a scoff, half a laugh. Why did Zella hate her? What a great fucking question. Why, when all Kiara had wanted was  to help her and be with her and kiss her and... whatever. She was a fool. She'd always been a stupid fool. Zella probably hated her for that. Kiara just shrugged again, blinking fast as she felt stupid tears appear. She drew her hand away from Alice's so she could rub them away. "I dunno, because I'm me, I guess," she said. She dropped her hand and forced a smile. "It's whatever-- it's-- I dunno why she gave you a fake name. Maybe because she knew that you knew me so it was gonna be a prank or something, I dunno." Her insides felt twisted up. She wanted to leave, she probably had already ruined this. Which is what Zella wanted.

Alice reached out instinctively as her warrior princess seemed to be fighting the urge to cry. No, no, that was definitely not good. Hands released, she brought them up to Kiara's face instead, wiping away tears for her and caressing her cheek with all the care in the world. If Kiara really was this person 'Zella' had made her out to be, then she was a very good actress. An instinct tugged at the blonde's heart and Alice couldn't help but feel like Kiara was the one being as truthful as possible here. That didn't mean there might not still be problems, but that would come later. Right now, she needed to know why her warrior princess was brought to tears. "Hey, love, don't cry. Please don't cry. I'm awful with tears. You'll make me cry too," she attempted comfort, twitching a small smile. "Do you want to get away from the crowd, sit by the lakeside and get some privacy? I don't like you upset. The sun should never set early."

Kiara was ready to be strong and push through the tears and fake her way through her night. Really, she was. Until Alice's hands came up to her cheeks. Her touch was so so soft, her voice even softer, and though Alice told her not to cry, Kiara did the opposite. She let out another shaky breath and the tears pushed forth before she could stop them. She tried to look down again, though there was no hiding it. "Sorry, sorry I-- " I'm so stupid, really I'm stupid, the words swam in front of her but she didn't want to give in to them. They weren't true, they were just her depression, that's what Dr. Phillips would say. "Y-you're so nice, I shouldn't-- I don't w-wanna ruin your night, I shouldn't even be crying over it, h-honestly." She took a deep breath and then shook her head, trying to stop it from getting worse.

Oh, that hadn't been what she wanted. Alice’s eyes widened, and immediately, she embraced Kiara, one hand on her back and the other on her hair. She squeezed her eyes shut at all of the girl's crying, feeling just awful. Whatever had happened, here, it had been worse than she would have thought or come up with on her own. Pulling back, she slid an arm around Kiara's shoulders and kept the other rested on her arm, rubbing up and down as she whisked her away to a more private section of the shoreline, away from any onlookers. "Come on. Don't apologize, there's no need for that. We feel what we feel and there's no getting 'round it. I just feel bad to have made it happen to begin with." Once they were far enough away, Alice turned back to her and continued trying to wipe away the girl's tears. "Now, don't worry about ruining my night. I came here hoping to see you. That hasn't changed. Please... You want to know something else about me?" She squatted a bit so she was looking up at Kiara, smiling cutely. "All I care about is honesty. Really. Honesty to what you're feeling and honesty to those around you. I'm not saying that to pressure you or anything, just-" Alice ran her hands down the girl's arms and took one hand, gesturing to the sand at their feet with the other. "Sit with me? Please? I'd love to know what's wrong, and how I can help it."

Kiara let herself get led away, though all the while the shame was rising in her. She didn't want to be like this, she didn't...she wanted to be a warrior princess. That's what Alice called her. She wanted to feel strong and brave instead of ugly and broken, which is how she felt now, shaken up just because Zella has inserted herself back into her life, slinking in like an intruder. All Kiara wanted was to get over her and leave her behind. It's all she wanted. And now here she was on the bank with a beautiful girl with freckles like the stars and she was ruining it ruining it ruining it. Kiara tried to blink back more of those tears (to no avail), sucking on her bottom lip as Alice talked. She didn't even know how to begin. It was horrible. All of it was horrible. She wished Bambi were here, and yes, she wished Callie was here too, so she could hold her hand and find strength there. That was probably even more fucked up. Still, Kiara sat down and stared out at the lake, taking a few more seconds of silence to try to be that...that warrior princess-- that she wanted to be. She tucked her knees against her chest and curled her arms around them. "I... Zella and me used to...hook up," she began slowly, her voice still wet. She couldn't look at Alice. "And basically, I uh, I liked her and she didn't like me. And I tried to-- I wanted her to like me." The words were catching in her throat. She didn't want to say the bit how it all ended. "I-- I asked...her to..." she looked down at her knees. "I pissed her off." Again, the words were stuck. Kiara could still feel the punches, every one. She didn't know how to say it, it felt so pathetic.

Alice sat as Kiara did, a hand going to her back where she rubbed small circles into the fabric of her shirt. She still felt terrible to have steamrolled the moment like this. If she had known it would bring them here, she probably would have avoided it. Still, a tiny voice reminded the blonde that this was important and it was even more important now if it had made Kiara cry. 

Now, Alice couldn't lie. A part of her froze, hand stilling, when Kiara finally spoke. But it was only for a moment before she forced herself to relax again and continue the circles as the girl went on. After all, it wasn't as though Alice wouldn't have guessed that part herself. She would have wound up there eventually. It was just a small surprise to hear, quick to catch up to. What wasn't quick to catch up to, however, was what Kiara was trying to say. "You don't have to tell me the details. But I'd be denying my natural curiosity if I didn't at least ask... This girl, 'Zella'- she said you had a big mouth, and that pissed people off. Is that what she meant? You asked her something and she didn't like it? How could a question possibly be so awful to make someone hate you?"

Kiara let out another half scoff, half laugh-- really it was her crying though. It hurt. It burned, actually, like Zella had lit a match and pressed it against her skin with just those words. Yes, big mouth, that was Kiara. How could Kiara ever have thought Zella wanted her for anything more than a closet shag? All Kiara could do was shrug. She knew she had to try to find the words, but this felt like ripping the stitches out of a wound that hadn't healed. "I dunno. I guess. Everything I said pissed her off. That's why she wanted to shut me up." And she giggled at that, though she was still crying, feeling the punches again and again.

"Shut you up?" Alice didn't like the sound of that. Her body tingled with some very, very bad energy. Like she had every time she went to see another "specialist." Swallowing thickly, she tried to see the answer in Kiara's eyes, but it was difficult when the other girl wouldn't look at her. "I don't like the sound of that. Of any of this, really. I know I'm only getting snippets, and again, you don't have to say anything you don't want to. But I am so sorry, love. For... all of it happening and for bringing her up. If I had known..." Well, if she had known, she definitely wouldn't have kissed that girl, that's for sure. Pressing her lips together for a moment as she held her breath, she winced as she asked "Was she your first?"

Kiara shook her head quickly. No, Zella was not the first. She was just one in a line of girls who, in the end, didn't think Kiara was good enough or worth it. She really didn't know why she tried, why she thought Callie wasn't gonna get bored with her or that Alice was gonna stick around. Why would she? Zella obviously told her all about her thousands of flaws. Why would Alice even want her? "It's okay. It's just-- it's over. It's done." She shrugged again. She kept shrugging, like she could hope that this would roll off her back.

No. Not the first. Alice would reason maybe not as much sting, but, she'd only ever really come close to sort of having two people. One hadn't even really been anything. Just a girl Alice was silly enough to think liked her. That had ended... terribly. 

Sliding the arm back around Kiara's shoulder, she rested her head against the other girl's as they both stared out at the waves. "It is. It is over. I don't need you to say anything more about the matter unless you want to." She let a moment of silence go by before sucking in a deep breath and pulling back to look at Kiara. "If it makes you feel better, I could never hate you for a simple question. And I'd never want to shut you up. Except, maybe with a kiss." She tried to give her another smile. "As long as that's alright with the other girl you're seeing. Can you tell me about her, maybe? Assuming she's not a right cunt like this other girl was."

Kiara actually laughed for real this time. Just a little giggle, but still, it was genuine and she turned her head to peek at Alice and gave a smile. "Um...Callie? Sure, yeah. She's great, she's uh, she's my best friend." That smile turned softer then spread. Because Callie had only ever made Kiara feel stronger. "That's why we're er, taking it slow. Plus other stuff. Lots of other stuff. I'm sort of a mess, y'know. I'm not trying to be self-deprecating or anything, I just-- I'm going to therapy, and I had a shitty childhood and I-- I don't... feel great about myself all the time." She shook her head again, eyes darting back to the lake. She didn't know why she'd just tangeted her way into that. Not smart. "Sorry, I-- you asked about Callie, not me. She really is great, you'd like her loads. She's so...bright and fun and good. She's really good. She tells amazing stories."

Alice smiled, hearing about Callie. "She really does sound lovely. I'd love to meet her sometime, if you're okay, and she's okay with that." She wanted to say, And if she's okay that you kiss me sometimes, too, but she held off for now. "As for feeling a mess, I know a bit about that myself. I haven't exactly had the greatest go of things lately. My life's been in a downward spiral ever since I was a child, it's been nothing short of a shit show since I turned seventeen." She bumped her shoulder against Kiara's. "But, you know, my father- he always used to say that everyone has something wrong. The best people usually seem the most broken. I always liked that thought."

Kiara liked that thought too. Again she smiled, and she bumped her shoulder back against Alice's. "Your father sounds real wise," she said. Her smile spread a little more. "And hey, at least you're-- here, now. Maybe things'll get...better for both of us."

Alice looked down at the sand between them, thinking of her father. His features were harder to remember, but she always saw his smile, mustache curled around it and all. "He was," she replied softly. "Wisest man I ever knew." She looked back out at the waves then, and thought of him, on his ship. He died as he lived, on the sea, her mother had said to try and comfort Alice at the funeral with no body to bury. Alice couldn't help but want to go out the same way. Her own eyes grew misty, then, and even more so at Kiara's optimistic little comment. She laughed, brushing away a stray tear. She just missed him so much. 

"Now that I'm here, I'm hoping loads of things will get better. You've already helped with that." She reached out, then, for Kiara's hand, her own palm up so that the girl could come to her. "All your worries about ruining my night with your tears, but I really, really hope that I haven't ruined anything. I didn't know if that girl could be trusted, and it worried me about trusting you for a moment. I'm not very good with that, you see. I.... She did.... I do need you to know we snogged a bit. It wouldn't be right if I didn't tell you that bit and then she tried to stick your nose in it later." At least Alice was listening to her own advice, for once, even though the moment had passed and she could have let it slip easily. "I won't be snogging her again. That's for sure. Right now, you're currently the most snoggable person in this town."

Kiara listened and felt her emotions wax and wane like the moon above. First she felt better, then rapidly worse, hearing about Alice not trusting her and all the snogging she'd done with Zella, Zella who wanted to steal any bit of happiness Kiara had, Zella who wanted to wreck her. Kiara blinked at the tears, wondering if after this was over, Alice would still think she had a big mouth-- and wasn't to be trusted. And if Zella would lurk like a storm cloud over this whole thing, whatever this thing was. 

And then just as fast, all those bad feelings halted because Alice was-- Alice. Somehow, she made Kiara feel light inside, like those bad things could not penetrate and the storm clouds would clear. Maybe not tonight, but soon. "Yeah?" she said with a shy smile. She was blushing badly. "Prove it."

Alice held her breath as she watched Kiara's face and waited. It all flooded out in a long sigh of relief as she moved in quickly to lock her lips with Kiara's. That blush. Those words. She kissed her slow, and steady, and breathless, for a very fast and yet long moment all at once, feeling alight with sparks and happiness that this wasn't ending badly. With a gasp for air she pulled away, and worked to regain her breathing while she whispered, forehead against Kiara's, "Challenge accepted."