#Sleep and that being the only way I don’t rip out my eyeballs or cut off my leg from how insanely weird I feel

[kavehater]

how to kys without krilling yourself ;-;

[readingslover]

Chapter 3

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On the first morning at Meredith’s house, Amory was woken up by the noise in the hallway.

“George’s room is bigger than mine. I have more clothes, I should get the bigger room.” Izzie complained loudly.

Amory got up, walked to the door, and opened it, still feeling groggy. “Do you really have to yell in the morning?” Her complaint was completely ignored by them.

“I got here first, and my room is like two inches bigger. Am has the biggest room out of us three.” George answered.

“Please, leave me out of it. Besides, I was the first one who moved in, so it’s only fair I get the biggest room.” The blonde said with an innocent smile as she went down the stairs, still fully waking up from her good sleep.

“We would have more room if you cleaned up your mom’s boxes.” She hears Izzie says as she walks down the stairs.

As the girl poured herself a mug of coffee and prepared a toast, she could still hear the other two bickering, following Meredith around the house. Amory made Meredith a cup too, feeling some sympathy toward her. She took the mug giving the blonde a thankful look. 

“Ugh, sometimes they could be a little more like you,” Meredith says to her friend continuing to drink from her cup.

“Only sometimes?” Amory asked playfully as she headed up the stairs to get dressed.

~~~~~~

“Fools on bikes killing themselves. Natural selection is what is it.” their resident says when they walk down the hallway.

“So what’s up with the Nazi, is she off her meds?” Alex asks Amory and George, since they’re walking next to him.

“You never heard of the race?” George asked him in disbelief.

On their way to the ER they walk past the OR board where Dr. Webber, Dr. Shepherd, and Dr. Burke are standing.

“Chief, Dead Baby Bike Race started twenty minutes ago.” Dr. Bailey informed the three.

“Alright people, Dead Baby Bike Race Day!” The chief yelled out and the group walked further to the ER.

“Every year this bar-” George started, but got interrupted by Meredith. “The Dead Baby Bar.”

“Every year, they hold this underground bike race.” The boy continued.

“It’s the biggest race there is in Seattle for now,” Amory added.

“Don’t you wonder why someone would name a bar something so disgusting?” Izzie asked while we put on our yellow gowns. 

“Keep your panties on, Nancy Drew,” Cristina said, making Amory start laughing a bit.

“The race is completely illegal, and-” George started, but this is the second time Meredith cuts him off. “Crazy, a bunch of bike messengers racing against traffic trying to beat each other, for free shots of tequila.”

“All-out, no holds barred competition, sounds like fun,” Alex says.

“Yeah, you would think that,” Izzie says.

“That’s not fun, it’s dangerous. There is a big chance you could get seriously hurt. But then again, we finally would have gotten rid of your whining and rudeness.” Amory says while she ties George’s gown.

“The race doesn’t even have any rules. Except eye gouging. No eye gouging.” George informs.

“Great, we’ll be trapped in the Pit bandaging up idiots when we could be in the OR?” Cristina complains.

“What kind of people engage in a race that has, as its only rule, that you can’t rip out eyeballs of another human being?” George continues his rant while he now ties Amory’s gown.

“Men, Georgie, men,” Alex says, knowing how stupid most of them are.

“I need someone to get up to the OR floor, the Chief needs a right hand.” Making most of the interns put their hand up wanting to be in the OR. After looking around the group she picks George.

“Okay people, the rules of trauma. Don’t mingle with the ER interns, they don’t know their ass from their esophagus. Sew fast, discharge fast, take bodies up to the OR yesterday. And don’t let me catch you fighting over patients. Got it?” Their attending turns around and walks off lettering the group of interns all stand there for a few seconds. “Come on, let’s go.”

~~~~~~

While Alex and Meredith fought over a guy, Amory walked off to a different bed. The man on it had no obvious serious injuries apart from a deep gash on his forehead.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Madden.” She introduced herself smiling a little. “Do you mind if I clean you up a little and you can tell me what happened?”

“Wow, your smile is beautiful.” The guy says to the blonde. “I’m Rocky.”

“Well, if you wanted to be like the movie, you sure picked the wrong sport.” She laughed.

“Haha, very funny.” He smirked. “My real name is Liam, it doesn’t sound as good as Rocky, right?”

The intern put a temporary dressing over his forehead wound before she gently cleaned up all of his scrapes.

“Liam’s a good name.” She smiled at him.

“Then you call me Liam. you know, your hands are magic.”

“Years of med school and practice.” Amory chuckled feeling slightly uncomfortable as he continues to stare at her.

“Aren’t you too young to be a doctor?”

“I’m an intern. So no, I’m not too young.” She answers.

“You have a beautiful smile, I’m Rocky. What’s your name.” He asked again.

This made Amory look at him wondering if he was serious. He was serious, even though they have already gone over this.

“Liam, how are you feeling?” She asked trying to mask her concerned look not wanting to alarm him.

Amory asked Dr. Bailey if she could order a CT scan for him. After explaining to her why Amory thinks a CT scan is necessary she gave the intern the green light. 

At the same time, Dr. Shepherd was examining him. 

“Isn’t she beautiful?” The blonde heard Liam ask Dr. Shepherd when she arrived back at his bed. “She won’t tell me her name though.”

Dr. Shepherd smiled amused because in the last few minutes, he had been in the room, the intern told Liam my name at least 10 times if not more.

“Well, Mr. Thompson, you have a bad concussion and a severe case of amnesia. I want to keep you in overnight for observation.” Dr. Shepherd concluded his exam.

“Is there anyone we can call for you?” Amory asked him when she noticed he hasn’t written down anyone to call.

“You can give me your number.” He winked, making Dr. Shepherd laugh out loud.

“Yeah, no… Nice try though.” She says putting down the chart and walking away.

“My brother is here somewhere, he was also racing. His name is Viper. Could you find him, please?”

~~~~~~

After a long day, Izzie, George and Amory are sitting on the couch watching Meredith’s mother’s surgery tapes that we found lying around.

“Ooh, this one is skin grafting!” Izzie says as we pick the DVD’s out of the boxes.

“No way! I’ve never seen that before.” The other blonde say feeling excited.

“Are those my mother’s surgical tapes?” Amory didn’t notice Meredith had walked in until now.

“We should watch the skins grafting one first,” George suggests in all seriousness.

“Where did all this stuff come from.” Meredith asks when she walks further into the room

“Izzie unpacked some of your mother’s boxes,” IAmory says pointing to her.

“I was upset, and when I’m upset I like to nest.” She came in defense.

While they continue going through the boxes Meredith begins to take down some pictures that are standing around the house.

“No. No. We’re not watching my mother’s surgical tapes, we’re not unpacking boxes and we’re not having long conversations where we celebrate the moments of our lives.” Meredith says angrily.

~~~~~~

While walking to the hospital the next day, on the day of Izzie’s and Cristina’s harvest surgery, Meredith complained to Cristina and Amory.

“They’re everywhere, all the time. Izzie’s all perky and George does this thing where he’s helpful and considerate. They share food and they say thighs and they move things and they breathe. Ugh, they’re like hammy. I mean, at least you, Am, are not that bad. You keep to yourself, but you’re happy too.”

“I’m right here. I can hear you. But, I’d rather be happy than be all depressed. Besides, I make your coffee in the morning, so you don’t get to complain.” The blonde replied.

“Okay, now even I want to live with you.” Cristina joked. “Just kick the rest out.”

“I can’t. They just moved in. I asked them to move in.” The dirty blonde says.

“So what, you’re just gonna repress everything in some deep dark twisted place until one day you snap and kill them?” Cristina asked.

“Yep.”

“Well, I’ve listened to a lot of murder podcasts if you ever need a helping hand,” Amory replied, not really fazed by the fact that she would do this.

“This is why we are friends. You’re both as disturbing as I am. Only, Am is better at hiding it.” The three of them smiled.

Alex followed behind us, and we walked into the hospital. “Why is the Nazi making us stay in the pit two days in a row?”

“Leftovers,” Amory answered shortly.

“Leftovers.” Meredith and Alex agreed.

“Got to get the cyclist who were too drunk, stupid, or scared to get themselves to a hospital yesterday,” The blonde continued.

“Meanwhile, she gets to do a freaking organ harvest.” The boy continued complaining.

“It kills you doesn’t it? Two women caught the harvest.” Cristina responded making Amory and Meredith laugh.

“No, it kills me that anybody got the harvest but me. Boobs do not factor into this equation. Unless you want to show me yours.”

“Comes from the person who used the possession of ovaries as an insult not too long ago,” Amory said with her brows raised.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I’m gonna become a lesbian,” Meredith answered making Amory and Cristina agree.

~~~~~~

Later on, Meredith and Amory were walking through trauma when the blonde noticed Mer’s patient from yesterday was here again.

“What’s he doing here?” She asked while nodding toward him trying to make Meredith look the same way as the blonde was.

“Probably fell off his bike again,” Alex replied

Amory goes straight to him letting Meredith and Alex bicker, again.

“Viper? Are you okay?” She asks putting a hand on his shoulder and crouching down next to him.

He looked up at her shaking his head before collapsing, holding his side blood spilling from his mouth.

“I need some help over here.”

Viper’s wound was open and infected and he had severe internal bleeding, Dr. Bailey let the intern and Meredith scrub in, much to Alex’s dismay.

“I’m gonna go update his brother,” The blonde says to Meredith and Dr. Bailey. Liam, the brother, was still in the hospital, due to overnight observation.

“Good morning!” Amory says when she enters his room.

“Doctor Madden, a pleasure to see your face when I wake up,” Liam says smirking.

“You are such a flirt. At least you remembered my name.” She says before updating him on his brother.

“You… You got a boyfriend?” Liam asked.

“No… I, eum, don’t really have time for that.” Amory chuckled as he watched her hopeful.

“Well, it would be inappropriate for me to make any advances since I am your patient, but maybe when we meet again and you are free. We could go out.” He suggested.

“How about we focus on you and your brother,” The blonde suggested.

~~~~~~

Later that same evening, Amory, George, Izzie, and Cristina are sitting on the couch watching the surgical tapes, despite what Meredith said the night before. When the girl noticed Meredith had come in she carefully looked at Meredith to study her reaction

“We, we were just… Cristina made us!” George let out, slightly panicked.

“What are we watching?” Meredith asked after a few moments of silence, sitting down on the couch next to Izzie. 

“You’re such a terrible liar, George,” Amory said as she patted his head.

“This is the one where your mother literally pulls this guy’s face off,” Izzie said excitedly.

The rest of the evening was spent watching the tapes and throwing the occasional popcorn at each other.

[curlynerd]

Happy Birthday, Cas! Word Count: 3K Rating: T Summary: Appalled that Cas has never had a birthday party before, Jack drags Dean into his schemes to plan a surprise party for him. Dean finally works up the courage to tell Cas how he feels. Notes: love confessions, first kiss, lots of fluff, and lots of Cas' family showing up much they care

Also read on AO3!

"You've never celebrated Cas' birthday?!" Jack exclaimed by way of greeting at -- Dean groaned and rolled over to check the time. -- 6:47 in the morning.

"Jack..." Dean sighed, dragging his hand down his face and sitting up in bed. "We've been over this. You promised not to come barging in here until at least 8:30."

"Huh?" Jack titled his head at Dean before his gaze trailed over to the bedside clock. "Oh. Sorry. I forgot to check the time."

"All those God powers and you can't even conjure up a watch?" Dean grumbled as he threw the sheets off his legs and planted his feet on the floor. "Now what were you saying about Cas?"

"His birthday!" Jack's expression was too damn excitable for this early in the morning. "I was telling him about how we celebrated my birthday after Mrs. Butters left, and I asked him about his birthday, and he said he'd never celebrated one before!"

Dean frowned at Jack. This was what he was woken up for? "Kid, I don't think he has one. The dude's older than calendars."

Jack was undaunted. "Yeah, but he was born, right? Even angels are born."

Okay, it was way too early for existential questions. He needed coffee. Dean grunted his acknowledgment and dragged himself to his feet. "Did Cas say when his birthday was?"

"Well, no." Jack furrowed his brow for just a second before his face lit up in enthusiasm. "Why don't we celebrate today?"

Dean stared at Jack. Jack's eyes were wide and sincere and full of love, just like his dad's. And, apparently, just as effective. "Alright..." Dean said with a defeated sigh. Who was he to deny the kid a chance to make his dad happy? "Whacha wanna do for his birthday?"

Jack beamed. "A surprise party! With cake!"

"Yeah, I figured as much." Dean scrubbed at his hair and wiped the last of the sleep out of his eyes as he shuffled his feet into his slippers. "Coffee first, though. Then the store."

"What kind of cake should we make?" Jack asked an hour later, as he and Dean pondered every box mix the grocery store had to offer.

“Hmm…” Dean eyeballed the box of funfetti mix. Jack would probably like that one best. It had sprinkles baked in. Dean kind of wanted a classic chocolate cake. And Cas, well. He wouldn’t care. He’d probably take two bites at most, just to appease Jack.

“This one.” Dean’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he reached for a box and held it out for Jack.

“Angel food cake?” Jack read.

Dean nodded, his grin widening at his little joke. “Yeah! It’s special. Angels love it, ya know.”

Jack tilted his head at Dean, then the box, before a smile bloomed across his face. “You gave me angel food cake once. I really liked it! Is that why you got it for me?”

Dean thought back to that drive, and his little snack cakes morality test. “Yup. That was definitely why.” He snatched the box from Jack’s hand and tossed it into the cart before he could ask more questions. “Let’s wrap this up before Cas wonders why we’ve been gone so long.”

If Cas was ignorant of Jack’s birthday plans before, he wasn’t for long. Neither Dean nor Jack thought to do much to conceal the contents of their shopping bags when they returned home. Or figure out a way to keep Cas from wandering the bunker. So when he stumbled upon the two of them hauling bags toward the kitchen, both Dean and Jack traded suspicious glances.

“Dean and I will be in the kitchen for awhile,” Jack said seriously, cutting straight to the chase. “Do not come in there though!”

“Oh?” Cas’ gaze flickered down to their bags. A package of birthday hats stuck out of the opening of one. A canister of rainbow sprinkles was nestled at the top of another. His mouth twitched as his eyes softened with warmth. When they met Dean’s eyes, Dean’s stomach did a flip. Cas’ eyes grew even warmer.

‘He loves you,’ Dean’s thoughts helpfully supplied at the worst possible moment, ensuring Dean’s face burned with a fierce blush right as Cas looked his most adoring. Dean hastily averted his gaze.

Cas hadn’t been back from the Empty for long, only a couple of weeks really. But it felt like an eternity.

Because Dean hadn’t told him yet. He hadn’t looked him in the eyes and said ‘I love you too.’ Hadn’t dragged him in by the lapels of his stupid trenchcoat and kissed him senseless. Hadn’t held him close and promised him that he could have Dean, all of him, for as long as he wanted to keep him.

The moment had never been right. There were always people around. Jack. Sam. So many of their friends, eager to see them and celebrate their victory over Chuck and their newfound freedom. Things were only now starting to quiet down, and still Dean hadn’t worked up the courage to tell him.

“It’s for a surprise,” Jack continued, pulling Dean from his thoughts. “Er, not a surprise! We’re not planning any surprises!” Dean barely controlled his eyeroll. The kid really needed to work on his lying. “It’s something you can’t know about until later. So don’t even think about peeking!”

Cas and Dean traded knowing looks. Dean shrugged a little. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Cas assured Jack.

Jack brightened. “Great! Come on, Dean. Let’s go!” He practically skipped toward the kitchen, radiating enthusiasm with every step. Dean sighed and followed after him, already anticipating the huge mess at the end of all this. At least it was just box mix. That was easy enough to handle.

As it turned out, even box mix wasn’t foolproof.

“Is it supposed to look like that?” Jack asked in concern. He poked at the misshapen mess of their cake.

“Probably not.” Dean shrugged. It was a disaster zone, is what it was. Apparently angel food cake required a special pan. It looked similar enough to a bundt pan, though, so Dean thought it was an okay substitute. Clearly not. Or maybe they overmixed it? Was that why it sunk into this lumpy, craggy mess and then fell apart when they tried to shake it out of the pan?

“But ya know, homemade cake never looks as fancy as the stuff you get at the store, but it tastes just as good.” He slapped Jack on the back. “Put some frosting on this thing, maybe some decorations, and we’re golden.”

And so they set to work. Jack clearly had a vision of what he wanted, pulling supplies from the pantry to add to the disaster cake. He insisted on covering it in a thick layer of chocolate frosting, even though Dean tried to tell him angel food cake didn’t usually need it. It was vital to what he was creating. A full hour passed, and somehow the thing looked even worse than when it first flopped out of the pan.

“Cas is gonna love it,” Dean said anyway, because he knew it was true. Jack beamed with pride.

“At what point am I no longer banned from the kitchen?” Almost as if on cue, Cas’ voice called out from down the hallway. “Am I allowed to walk past it? I’d like to go into the library.”

“You can come in!” Jack yelled back, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement.

Dean looked around at the decoration-less kitchen, the party hats and the balloons still in their packaging. “Wait, hold on--” he began, but it was too late.

“SURPRISE!” Jack shouted as Cas rounded the corner. “Happy birthday, Cas!”

“A surprise for me?” Cas didn’t even seem to notice that the only things in the kitchen were a weird brown blob of cake and a massive mess. He was smiling from ear to ear at Jack with that special, endeared smile parents reserved just for their children. “But I told you I didn’t have a birthday,” Cas said. Which he and Jack had talked about literally hours ago. Before Jack raced off to talk with Dean and plan an impromptu trip to the store before baking all morning.

Yeah. Cas definitely knew what Jack was planning today.

“Well, Jack decided today was your birthday. So, happy birthday.” Dean shrugged a little in a ‘Kids. What can ya do?’ sort of way.

Cas’ expression softened. “Today is a perfect day for a birthday.”

“We made a cake!” Jack bounded over to Cas and practically dragged him to the kitchen counter. “Do you like it?”

“It is…” Cas frowned and knit his eyebrows together at the monstrosity before him. “An inside-out hedgehog?”

“It’s a Sarlacc Pit!” Jack exclaimed while Dean clutched at the table, doubled-over with laughter. Jack pointed out the pretzel rods jutting out around the misshapen, lumpy hole in the center of the sunken cake. They’d done their best to make the chocolate frosting around it look like smooth sand, but of course it was way too brown. And bits of warm cake kept breaking off while they iced it. “That’s its teeth, and that’s the sand. It’s a Star Wars cake!”

“Oh, of course it is!” Cas said generously. He patted Jack’s shoulder. “It’s wonderful, Jack. And Dean.” He nodded at Dean, who was still trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah we’ve got ourselves the next Cake Boss over here. If the God thing doesn’t work out.” Dean’s voice rippled with laughter. He snatched up the bag of party hats and ripped it open. Cas looked exceedingly tolerant as Dean snapped one on his head with an impish grin. “So birthday boy, whacha wanna do on your special day?”

“Oh I know!” Jack exclaimed. His enthusiasm was infectious. “First we’ve gotta…”

The day wound up being more about Jack than Cas. Or rather, Jack doing all the things he loved to do with Cas. There was a Star Wars movie marathon. There was cake. There were more board games than Dean had played in a lifetime. Dean had a sneaking suspicion Cas let Jack win most of them.

But Cas had smiled almost non-stop the entire day, probably more than Dean had seen the entire thirteen years since he’d met him. And yeah, Dean knew why. What was better to do on his birthday than spend time with his kid?

By the end of the day, even Cas was looking a little tired. Dean was absolutely exhausted. He was half-tempted to drag himself to bed early, but when Jack finally retired to his own room to give Dean and Cas some time together, there wasn’t any hesitation about settling down in his favorite armchair, Cas beside him, with two glasses of Dean’s favorite whiskey to share.

The drink was warming through his limbs, but the light in Cas’ eyes was warmer. He looked content, if not a little overwhelmed by all the love his little family had shown him today. Dean leaned back in his chair and let the peacefulness of the moment wash over him.

“You know, it’s serendipitous Jack chose today for my birthday.” Cas smiled down at his glass.

Dean cracked a sleepy eye open. “Yeah? Why?”

“Well, today is the anniversary of the day I raised you from perdition.”

Dean stared at Cas. Cas eyes twinkled with nostalgia. “Really?” Cas nodded, and Dean laughed. “Well then I suppose it’s really my re-birthday.”

Cas chuckled. “I’ll remind Jack to bake two cakes next year.” They fell into easy silence, nursing their drinks as they reflected on the years.

“It really is a good birth date,” Cas said awhile later. “I may have been alive for eons before then, but the day I met you was when I changed...That was when I really started living.”

Dean’s heart leapt into his throat, Cas’ love confession ringing in his ears. “Didn’t I stab you?” he joked weakly, deflecting the spiraling nerves that bubbled up in his chest.

Cas laughed. “Yes. Yes, you did. I didn’t realize it at the time, but even then you were making me feel. Mostly confusion,” he added with a wry twist of his lips. “I saved you from eternal damnation, and you repaid me by stabbing me in the chest!” Despite his amusement, Cas’ eyes were overflowing with warmth and affection. Dean could almost read the thoughts going on behind them. ‘I fell a little bit in love with you right then.’

“What can I say? I have that effect on people.” ‘Now,’ his thoughts urged. ‘Tell him now!’ “I dunno what I’d have done without you,” Dean mused around a sip of whiskey. A little more liquid courage. A little more and he could do this.

“Another angel would have been sent. You would have been pulled from Hell anyway.”

“Not what I meant, Cas,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “All of it. All the crap we’ve been through. All the crap Chuck put us through. Put me through.” He watched the way the warm lamplight reflected off his drink. “I...I’m glad I had a best friend through it all. You know?”

“Yes,” Cas said, but there was a twinge of sadness in his voice that made Dean look up. He was smiling softly, but the longing in his eyes was impossible to miss.

Dean sighed. His gut churned with fear and guilt and yearning. He knew Cas loved him. And he knew he loved Cas. Hell, he’d known that for a helluva lot longer than he’d known of Cas’ feelings. He just needed one little push to make him confront those feelings head-on.

“Ya know, I think I have one more present for you.” Dean set his glass down with heavy meaning. He nodded to himself and stood up, his jaw set firm, his eyes determined.

“You do?” Cas started to ask. “What--” And before he could finish his sentence, Dean crawled into the chair with him, his knees straddling Cas’ hips, bracing himself against the backrest with one hand. Cas’ eyes went huge. “Dean?” His voice trembled.

Dean was pretty sure he looked even more nervous, but he’d be damned if he owned up to it. “Hey birthday boy,” he hummed, forcing a flirtatious smile despite the anxiety pounding in his chest. He was going to kiss Cas. God how he wanted to kiss Cas.

But instead of looking delighted Cas looked...hurt. “Dean, you don’t have to do this for me.”

Dean’s heart went cold. “For you? You don’t think I want this?”

“No,” Cas said simply. Honestly. His bright blue eyes were so close now, but the heartache in them was almost painful to look at.

Dean swallowed thickly. “Well then you’re dumber than you look,” he teased, forcing bravado he did not feel. Dean leaned in until his forehead rested against Cas’. He could feel Cas’ warm breath across his lips. “Cas, if I could pick anyone in the whole damn world to be with, it’d be my best friend. You know that, right?” Cas licked his lips. Dean yearned to tilt his head down and catch them with his own. “But I thought you didn’t...Couldn’t...Well, I thought love wasn’t something angels did.”

“But I told you, Dean. When the Empty came, I told you--”

“Yeah I know. But you know how I drag my ass for important stuff.” That finally elicited a tiny puff of laughter from Cas. Dean smiled. “Come on, man. Cut me some slack. Lemme use this as an excuse to nut up and kiss you.”

As it turned out, Dean didn’t need to, because Cas surged up and pressed their lips together.

Dean gasped into the kiss as his hand resettled itself on Cas’ shoulder. Cas’ glass clattered as he hastily set it on the table in order to hold Dean’s waist with both hands. Cas kissed like he was starving for it, voracious and desperate, licking his way into Dean’s mouth without preamble and moaning deeply into the heat he found there.

Dean gave as good as he got, letting over a decade of longing finally escape through the hot, greedy press of their lips together, through the long trailing kisses along Cas’ jaw while Cas dragged his hands down Dean’s back and up underneath his shirt.

“We should...do this in my room…” Dean whispered in Cas’ ear as his teeth nipped at the sensitive area. Cas nodded and, without warning, stood up with Dean still wrapped around him. Dean startled and reflexively jerked his feet down toward the floor, though he realized with delight that Cas could almost certainly carry him the entire way if he wanted. Later. He’d test that out later. For now Dean grabbed Cas by the tie with a lecherous twinkle in his eye and hauled him in the direction of his bedroom. Soon to be their bedroom, if Dean had anything to say about it.

Much, much later, when they were tangled together beneath the sheets with Dean’s head nestled on Cas’ chest, Dean realized that Cas had been wrong. Because his happiest moment wasn’t when the Empty took him away. It wasn’t in just saying how he felt.

Because it was in loving, yes, but it was also in being loved.

Because when Dean peeked up at Cas’ face, he was radiating so much happiness Dean’s heart ached from it. Today was the happiest he’d ever been. And perhaps tomorrow, if Dean had anything to say about it, tomorrow he’d be even happier.

Cas’ eyes were full of love as he carded his fingers through Dean’s hair. “I know I don’t have any others to compare this against, but today was a very good birthday.”

“Good.” Dean pressed a sleepy kiss to Cas’ skin as his eyes drifted closed. “You deserve it.”

[hezuart]

That anaversary aizen looks absolutely fabulous, he looks like a figure skater xd.

I heard along time ago the last arc of the anime was being animated finally bc they pulled a 90s sailor moon were the last season was not either animated or dubbed untill decades later.

I recall near the end of the current 366 episodes there was an episode were the creapy demon ppl woke up in hell and we're all bitter, and there was the other guy who was like, iM cOmEiNg FoR u IChIgO, but then is never mentioned again after and I'm like,why? Why is lt there just plopted randomly into a different arc that seams unrelated.

And locking aizen up underground seems ok, but It deff won't hold, and he will. Escape, and he will kill, you either need that one spell from star, dubbed, the darkest spell of moon the undaunted, a powerfull dark spell that killed immortal beings, that came from best character, eclipsa, the queen of darkness.

We need that.

Or stick him I'm crystal like eclipsa was in star. Is there no one who could trap him in ice or crystal for all eternity.

How about throw him into the centre of a volcano trapped and caged , forverr being killed by heat?

I assume there's space travel, send I'm into a black whole, were a black whole don't fuckin care if your immortal or fat, you will die

:3

Yes, I love anniversary Aizen. His original octopus-butterfly hollow design was ugly so I'm glad he's back to being the fashion icon he is.

Locking Aizen up underground once is one thing, doing it twice after saying he got more powerful by just sitting there, and he escaped to battle the Quincy Soul King God... is another. I think he should have escaped at the end of the Quincy arc. That is the only feasibility.

I heard the anime is coming back for the Quincy arc as well, but because of COVID its probably going to be delayed. (I'm not gonna watch it until the Rain section of the arc then I'm dipping out. I'm only here for Zangetsu)

and funny that you mention that hell scene in the manga :)

-> spoilers for the new BLEACH 73 page anniversary chapter / thoughts/critique on it

So hey you had a premonition! Syazel .... returned? And his hole is outside of his body??? for some reason???

(I didn't understand the explanation or why / how that happens and what that means for the hollow)

And my friend and I were laughing because out of ALL the things. Kubo could do in this anniversary. He gave Syazel his dick back after going to hell. That is iconic. (that's where his hole was located, and now that its not on his body ... well...) This is the funniest thing Kubo has EVER pulled. Kudos to you, sir.

The entire internet is freaking out over Ukitake being in hell. Honestly Kubo has done far worse, and we've established that Soul Society is a corrupt system that hasn't changed, so I'm not surprised he would pull something like this.

At the same time, Kubo 1. cheated his audience. 2. continues to prove me right that he cannot bring himself to kill his characters

1. Hollows who have commit murder in their human life are sent to hell. Syazel and Aaorniero are two of these hollows, and yet, when they are killed, there is NO gates of hell scene. We see them there later in the hell chapter (which was more of a promotion for the fourth movie and I didn't believe it would hold any merit)

But the same goes for Ukitake. We never see the gates of hell take him. What, was hell late? Did hell's gates get lost like an uber before picking him up? It's bull. Withholding such vital information from your audience, not showing the gates of hell when they should pick up this soul IMMEDIATELY is ... I mean its a lie. Kubo lied to his audience.

2. Now we are told powerful shinigami are sent to hell when they die. First of all that sounds like a security threat. Wouldn't shinigami want revenge for that? Or attempt to escape? Why would they still hold loyalty after being sent to a prison of eternal suffering?

Also "Yhwach and Aizen" were the only ones keeping Hell's gates closed is way too convenient and doesn't really make any sense. I feel like Aizen should have deliberately gone to hell to retrieve powerful shinigami / hollows for his army instead of keeping it /closed/.

This is definitely a Kubo-doesn't-know-what-he's-doing-and-is -making- stuff-up-as-he-goes, but it might have a pinch of merit because of previous plot lines.... but either way, there's some big plot holes here, but again, its Kubo, so I expected nothing less.

Again, he can't kill off his characters. He introduced zombification, he introduced immortality through the hougyoku, he has Orihime and Hachigen's reversal / rejection abilities. He brought back Luppi, friggen.... a character who's entire upper half of his body was incinerated. Like.... come on. No. He's dead, you can't bring him back like that. That's a cop out and just weird. You're taking away consequences and grief.

(Also Yamamoto and Unohana deserve to be in hell far over Ukitake, they've done some fcked up stuff in their pasts unlike him)

Also Kubo's favorite character is Mayuri, which.... you're allowed to have a favorite problematic character. But Keeping said character alive and bared from the consequences of abusing his daughter, murdering innocents, and experimenting on your own squad members? Nah. Nope. Kill him, Kubo. Kill this dude.

(his weird attachment to Mayuri is probably why he keeps bringing Syazel back, since Syazel is Mayuri 2.0, but Syazel is the bad guy who does face consequences for his actions while Mayuri is not)

~

Also, I'm certain Kazui and Orihime are going to be THRILLED that their precious husband/dad is going to hell when he dies :)

(I just... Rukia teased Ichigo about leaving Orihime at home. She teased him about having a house wife who he leaves all the chores to. Orihime had two panels. She checks on her son who promised he would be at home and sleep. Kazui fcking breaks his promise like it never mattered to him and JUMPS out the window after pretending to sleep in front of his mother. ... An 8 year old... alone... in the middle of the night.)

Orihime is abandoned. She is not invited to SS, she is not informed of what is going on, her son leaves her.... I...

Orihime is a side character. She doesn't matter anymore. She hasn't mattered for a long, long time.

A part of me is glad she had little screen time, since she tends to waste it, but another part of me is embroiled with rage.

I've even see people try to defend this. "Orihime and Ichigo can't be together ALL the time, that's an unhealthy relationship!" and I'm like guys... that's not the point. The point is Orihime is not part of Ichigo's other life. Any shinigami stuff from now on is none of her business. She's going to stay at home while Kazui and Ichigo go off and save the world. Ichigo is going to be fighting by Rukia and Renji while Orihime watches from the sidelines, or worse, doesn't even know what is going on with her husband and son. Orihime is going to be uninformed and abandoned, because she has not proven she is capable of fighting by their sides(go on, @ me. I will fight this. She's a failure.), and also because she prefers a human life over a dead one. Which is ironic, because she married a dead man. Ichigo is a shinigami, and he will be one forever. god forbid she ever meets his Zanpaktou. She would tremble in fear at the monsters her husband harbors in his soul, especially when she realizes they don't care about her and would rather see her dead. (Zangetsu would absolutely kill Orihime. Not sure about Kazui, but Orihime has not accepted Zangetsu, she does not like either of them, and the feeling is assuredly mutual.) frick now I want to make a comic about this

Also still frustrated over Zangetsu's shikai / bankai regression. Kubo once again lied to his audience. Ichigo has no bankai. How ridiculous is that? The main character of BLEACH doesn't have a bankai. Insulting.

(RIP to Chad. He doesn't exist anymore. He's just gone. No mention, no cameo. Gone.)

Kazui is a demon child. That character from the novels? Hikone? They're the same character. Literally same personality, same power level. Its worse because Kazui is a liar. He constantly goes behind his parents' backs. He can summon creepy fish and creepy eyeballs and open portals like is ANYONE aware of this? How has SS not kidnapped Ichigo's son and experimented on him / locked away his powers yet? All substitute shinigami require a reiatsu controlling / spy badge to keep them in line. Where is Kazui's? Or is he just a weird fullbringer?

I was worried Kubo was gonna try and pull a knock off Boruto but luckily he kept the focus on Ichigo and the others. But that being said, Ichika and Kazui are now just... sort of there? Kazui was kinda just.... having his own adventure that doesn't matter to the plot at hand, and Ichika had some nice characterization at first but she just hid behind her dad the whole time.

I have a feeling Kazui is gonna step in at the last minute or do some major behind the scenes thing that indirectly interferes with the main plot so no one will realize how powerful and dangerous he actually is. Its sad because Ichika is the superior character in personality and likability, but she clearly is not going to have a bigger part in this.

Ichigo having a normal life after everything still feels extremely boring and uncomfortable to me. Everyone's like 'I'm still bLEACH!" but.... BLEACH just... doesn't feel like BLEACH anymore. It hasn't for a while now.

~~~

There's two new shinigami characters. Didn't care for the girl, but the Sign Language kid who talks to animals is adorable ... however... he just reminds me of Chad, and I just... it hurts knowing Chad has essentially been deleted. Chad and Orihime are officially benched. They have chosen the human world, and Orihime has given Ichigo his spawn so she has no more use/purpose to him anymore... ////sigh

~~~

Also. This is claimed to be a new "arc". So is the BLEACH manga coming back? What is happening. I thought Kubo was tired and didn't want to do BLEACH anymore. I thought Shounen Jump cut him off. People made so many excuses for Kubo and why the past two arcs have been so badly written the past 6 years and now almost everything they've attempted to defend him with has been revoked.

BLEACH is going to continue to screw up its plot lines and characters, so Its probably best for it to stay dead but I've seen a lot of Kubo stans drooling over this content, they're desperate for BLEACH's return, but its already given out all its possible revelations. There's really nothing else to top here. It's just going to make things up as it goes along ,and I'm not really here for half-assed writing like that, especially since the damage of rushing the previous manga has already been done. Kubo and Shounen Jump are riding off a money nostalgia. None of this was planned.

Honestly though.... overall feeling of this chapter, not as bad as it could have been.

Syazel stole the spotlight, and he's my friend's favorite character, so that's all that really matters.

[pockyxx]

“ you forgot this... ”

kita x reader, atsumu x reader 

prompt: they tell their s/o not to visit them at practice but when they forget something they have to go help them. 

genre: fluff. a bit of hurt and comfort for the atsumu one

kita 

Whenever Kita would have practice, he’d always advise for you to just stay home and relax from a stressful day at school. It was always like this, even if it had been the easiest, most care-free day. 

You’d always hear your friends talking about how they’d go to their boyfriends practice and it was always make you feel a little down when Shinsuke would tell you not to watch. 

Your house was by far closer to the school than Kita’s so you had suggested he slept over so he’d get to morning practices quicker. It was an early Sunday morning and Shinsuke had slept over the night before. 

His schedule for volleyball had greatly intensified as they prepared for an up and coming tournament which meant Shinsuke spent his off day in the gym. 

He’d woken you up with a kiss to the forehead, softly mumbling how he had to go. Letting go of his arm that you’d been clinging to in your sleep, he was on his way. 

Being a bit of a light sleeper, it was difficult to fully go back to bed and after about thirty minutes of trying you gave up and got up to start your day. 

There was no school, you had no homework and your friends hadn’t arranged any plans for the day. Overall, it was suppose to be a pretty chill day. 

Making your way into the kitchen, you noticed on the counter top a filled water bottle that inevitably belonged to Shin. You sighed, he must’ve forgotten it with the rush he was to get to practice early. 

Looking at the time, you decided to take it to him. Putting on one of his spare shirts and some casual pants that fitted your form perfectly, you made your way to school. 

The sound of balls hitting against the ground and shoes squeaking filled your ears as a smile grew on your face. Carefully, you opened the door to see that Inarizaki was in the middle of a practice. 

“Kita-san, you’re s/o is here!” Aran Ojiro called out, causing a very surprised Shin to turn to the door. A slight blush appeared on his face before quickly disapearing as he rushed over to where you stood. 

All eyes had turned to you as you felt slightly embarrassed. 

“Hey Shin-can, you left your water at my place, I thought I’d bring it to you.” You smiled warmly, extending it out to him to take. He returned the smile, 

“thank you, love.” He brought you in for a quick hug as he sighed. Pressing his lips together he turned back to his team who’d been eyeballing your interactions. “I knew this would happen...” 

You only assumed his team mates were distracted by him showing emotions, as they’s painted a mental picture of Kita as a serious, reserved captain. It was only with you that another side of him was brought out. 

Kita sent them a glare, snapping them back to reality as they continued their practice. Your boyfriend scratched the back of his neck, “since you’re already here, you’re free to stay and watch. That is unless you have school work-” His slight rambling was cut off by you interrupting him. 

“I’d love to watch Shin-chan.” You batted your eyelashes, stepping a little closer, “do you mind if I kiss you here?” No one was watching you know and he shook his head, ‘no I don’t mind.’ 

Leaning in, a soft peck was placed against his lip as he pushed into the kiss a little more, carefully running his hand over your hips. The kiss was short and sweet and as you pulled away Kita pointed out the spot on the bleacher meant for spectators. 

If the two of you had shown any more pda, the rest of the boys would’ve been too dazed to practice properly. You giggled at the thought.

It seemed Kita thought of everything, and he knew his team mates too well.

atsumu

As much as you loved your boyfriend, he also got on your nerves a little bit. Of course, you knew how much volleyball meant to him and you wanted to support him as much as possible, which lead you wanting to watch his practice. 

Although, Atsumu would always answer with a simple: no. 

It made no sense, why would he not want you there? And as much as you put on a tough facade, it kinda hurt. Especially when you would drop him off at the gym only to see a handful of his fan girls ushering their way in to watch. 

“I’ll see you after practice.” He smiled at you, waving as he walked off with his twin brother and Suna. You smiled as well, even though you wanted to go with them and watch. 

You walked towards your small locker and as you opened your bag to put away your school binders you realized Atsumu had forgotten to take him post-game snack.

Rolling your eyes at his forgetfulness, you bit your lips and formulated a plan.

Holding the bento of protein bars, pieces of meet and slices of fruit, you walked up to the gym, holding your breath.

No one noticed you walk in as all their attention and been on the practice match they’d been in the middle of.

You saw Atsumu right away, his game face on, it was definitely a scary sight.

Making your way to the bleachers, you sat close to the front so you could observe in peace.

Your boyfriend played so well and it was clear to see that he was a star player. The whole team played so beautifully together, it only bothered you more. Why was the only way you could see him play was by sneaking into the gym?

Looking back at his fan girls, you could hear their toxic gossip and it dripped off their tongues like poison.

“That’s really Miya Atsumu’s s/o?” One asked.

“They aren’t even that pretty.” Another one pointed out.

“He could do better.” The words stung.

Turning your attention back to the game, you realized Osamu pointing towards you from the court, a hand on his brothers shoulder.

When Atsumu’s eyes met yours, his intense competitive glare faded away. He probably had a sense of what was going on where you sat.

After that, his play seemed a little more off, like he wasn’t playing his best anymore. Did you cause that?

That, along with the harsh comments from the girls sitting not too far behind you sent you into an over-analysitic spiral.

Once the practice match was finally over, you made your way down to the court side. It looked like they were going to play a few extra sets for more practice and you sighed.

Your day had gone to complete shit and you had no energy left to talk to Atsumu, deciding to leave his bento on the bench or with a team mate.

“Y/n!” It was his voice. Your back was facing him as you were just trying to leave the bento and be on your way. Although, it was Atsumu, and there was no way you’d get out of talking to him.

“Hi, ‘tsumu.” You offered a weak grin. “I just came to drop off your post game snack, I know how cranky you get without it.”

You looked at your feet, just wanting to run away and crawl into a hole, only to never crawl out of it. Atsumu suddenly grabbed your hands, making your eyes widen and look up at him.

“Yer looking sadder than usual, are you okay pumpkin?” He asked and looking behind him, the next set hadn’t started yet.

You shook your head as your boyfriend offered to take you outside to talk.

“Do you think I’m a good s/o?, ‘tsumu?”

“I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else.” He held your shoulders, making sure you kept eye contact with him. It was tough for him to see you with glassy eyes, on the verge of tears.

“No matter what they say, just know that I love you.” He confessed, making your heart skip a bit. His hands moved back to your hands, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles.

“I love you too.”

“Well that’s food to hear!” His bright cheerful expression make you laugh, ripping you out of your sad feelings.

“Now, we’ve got some more sets to play. Will you watch, yer my good luck charm after all!” He slung his arm over your shoulder, being sure to show you off to his fan girls.

It clicked to you why Atsumu never wanted you to come to his practices; it was an attempt to keep your safe from his crazy fans.

He’d never want you to feel insecure, much less doubt the love he had for you. For that, he truly was the best boyfriend.

[oyubaat-tapcaf]

Another Job Is Done //Mandalorian x Reader

Here is my first ever Mandalorian Fic, written for @propertyofdindjarin

(small remark, I used ur name so this is kind of Mando x reader but also not)

I am a huge star wars nerd so im happy you preferred a mando fic

Have fun reading!

summary: Din had a bad experience while hunting down a quarry, leaving him with his feelings clear.

wordcount: 2985

warnings: canon typical violence, kind of a near death experience, a little bit of angst but lots of fluff

The ramp of the Razor Crest made a loud hissing noise when the hydraulics started to work on opening it. As the end of it reached the floor, the Mandalorian entered his ship. He seemed exhausted. He did not strut, as usual, his body language showed, this fight hadn’t been easy. He seemed like he even got hurt, more than usual. 

Mando grunted when he pulled the unconscious quarry up into his ship. He was in pain. This womprat he’d been hunting down was hard to catch and also a very good fighter. Well, not good enough. Din closed the ramp and hurled the quarry up into his carbonite chamber then he pressed the button to freeze him. Another job is done. Finally. 

He groaned quietly under his beskar helmet and let himself fall back against the wall. He wasn’t hurt badly but he was sore. He had been awake and going for a few days now, he needed food, water, and sleep. And maybe someone to hold onto. He was gone for a couple of long days and he was on edge. He liked being alone, but since he had the kid he realized how nice a little bit of company can be. He changed since he got the child that’s why this job was a little different. The job was a well-paying one. That was because the quarry was on a planet that was hard to get to. It was behind a big dangerous nebula. There were only a few people who were able to get to the other end alive and he was lucky that one of those people was willing to help him. His piloting was good but not good enough for the turbulence he might face in the nebula. Well for 50 percent of the bounty. That was a good deal. Even half of the money was enough for Din to buy food for him and his little friend, also to buy new fuel and new bullets for his pulse rifle since he was out of them.

The Mandalorian was too proud to admit it, he liked the pilot that was with him. She was a nice and beautiful young lady. She knew what she wanted and she got what she wanted. He remembers discussing the deal with her. She knew how to make a good deal, and she wasn’t intimidated by Din's appearance. Usually, people were acting different around him, some even being afraid of him. They heard the stories of Mandalore and its population. They heard of the strong beskar armor and Mandalorian combat skills. So Din usually gets what he wants. But that pilot...she wasn’t having it. 

“Look, I know you are an amazing hunter, but I’m just as good of a pilot, so that means we will split the bounty in half, no discussion needed,” she said while sipping away on her spotchka. Her eyes were challenging him, daring him to disagree with her.

“You will fly on my ship. And I will hunt down the quarry,” Din leaned forward looking straight into her eyes. “I don’t think 50/50 will work for me.”

She scoffed and shook her head. “My way or no way, Mando. You don’t know frag about that nebula. If you want to fly through it alone, do it. But lemme tell you even your beautiful beskar can’t save you. “

Din was a little angry at first but she then smiled at him, kind of mocking him but he was so lost in her beautiful face that he just sighed and jerked back as he caught himself staring. This helmet on his head was making his life easier.

The Mandalorian nodded and they shook hands. She wanted to invite him for a drink but he declined, as he always did. 

 Din sighed, back to his current situation. He and Rae had traveled a long time together, they got in some trouble with a few pirates and they had to shoot themselves out of it. They crashed on Teth and had to repair the Crest together, spending some nights sitting together and listening to the sounds coming from the jungle that was near, sharing some stories from their past. The child was always with them and the pilot got along with Din’s little friend. 

Even if this whole mission was kind of more than the Mandalorian signed up for, he enjoyed the company of the young pilot. When they finally arrived at the nebula Din realized why she wanted 50 percent of the money. She knew what she was doing, maneuvering the crest through the turbulences and clouds of gas. Maker, Din was lost, he had so many strong feelings about her and they all came crashing down on him while he was hunting down the quarry. He had tried to suppress his feelings for her. He didn’t even know what was going on. Stars, he never fell in love before, he was a loner. The youngling made him discover his soft side. At least under all that armor.

The quarry wasn’t easy to catch and Din nearly got into some bad trouble. His opponent nearly gained the upper hand at some point, leaving Din with an experience he can save into his album of “situations to avoid”. He had lost all his weapons except for his flame thrower and before he could even think of a way to get himself out of this situation, a strong cord had wrapped around his body leaving him unable to move his hands. He heard laugher, now knowing if it just was ringing in his ears from being hit so hard before, or if someone was laughing at him. The Mandalorian heard a vibroblade buzzing to life, he had opened his eyes to see his opponent, a nautolan, grinning, standing right in front of him.

“I’ve always wanted to kill a Mandalorian before.”

He stepped forward. Din tried to move but he realized, somehow the nautolan had wrapped up his whole body with cord, he couldn’t move his legs either, leaving him sitting on the floor and watching the nautolan stepping yet another step closer to him.

“I can even keep that amazing beskar to myself,” he murmured. He reached out with his hand, the blade touched the Mandalorians helmet with a metallic noise, ringing in Din’s ears. He was tense, still needed to collect himself, trying to seek his way out. He was a Mandalorian, he was raised his whole life with the knowledge that he will eventually die. It was nothing new to him, his whole life was living from day to day, not knowing how many of them are left for him. But right now he couldn’t accept that. There was this mission bigger than him and bigger than this quarry. The child. He needed the Mandalorians' help. He was his foundling, Din needed to come back to him. But there was even more. He had suddenly felt so lonely, kneeling on the floor, a vibroblade whirring right beside his head. The Beskar clad man was in love and nobody knew about it. He never had someone to kiss, to love. The pilot didn’t even know that Din was thinking about her, every damn minute, every day he woke up, hoping he would have the courage to tell her about his feelings for her. And he never did. 

The Mandalorian had snarled, this was not the end, he was not going to die like this. The adrenaline had shot up, into his system and Din had pushed his feet against the ground, falling forward with such force that he fell into his opponent. The nautolan had lost his balance and fell forward, the blade slipping out of his hand. Din caught it and cut himself loose, then he whirled around, jumped to his feet. He had kicked the green man right into his face with his boot, the nautolan had lost his consciousness immediately. 

That’s how he got the quarry back to his ship. Din was still trembling a little, after this experience, he was so happy to be back inside the Crest, back with his foundling and back with her. He groaned again and slipped down the wall, hitting the floor. His legs sprawled out, away from him he sat on the ground as a youngling would.

“Ni'm haryc”, he murmured to himself immediately feeling the exhaustion in his tired bones. 

***

You sat in the cockpit of the Crest, fiddling with your gloves and watching the child who was soundly asleep. You were nervous about the Mandalorian's return. He was acting differently around you since a few days ago and you were afraid that he was annoyed by you. His body language was always showing that he was nervous as if your company was something he was not used to and doesn't want to get used to. 

You sighed quietly and laid your beat-up gloves down. You really hoped that Mando was safe out there. You liked him more than you wanted to admit and him getting hurt on his daily adventures had you restless at night. Especially the last two days were hard. He was hunting down the quarry and you just had to wait for him. But hunting the quarry also meant flying back home and parting ways. You didn't want that to happen. You knew it was going to happen nevertheless but you felt the urge to kick something when you thought about leaving the Razor Crest and its amazing team. 

The Youngling was so cute and surprisingly good at keeping you company. You realized that you could even learn from him, in a way. 

And Mando, let's say it, you were into him. He was kind and polite, always trying to make your stay on the Crest comfortable. But you also liked his darker side that shot pirates and threw them off of his ship while it was in the air. He protected his family like he would protect his eyeball. 

You were ripped from your thoughts as you heard the hydraulic ramp slid down. Probably Mando, he was the only one besides you who had access to the Crests controls. Hopefully, it was him. You waited a few seconds. You heard steps and something hitting the wall. Then you heard the Carbonite chamber go off. Yep, it was Mando. He was back. 

"Kriff, finally," you whispered and got up from the pilot seat. The child was still asleep so you left him in his little pod. 

You slowly made your way down the ladder down to the cargo hold, as you reached the floor you saw the Mandalorian sitting on the floor, legs sprawled out like a child would seeming weak, exhausted, hurt. You were shocked at how weak he looked, you never saw him that way before. You looked at his muddy boots and his dirty armor, his cape was ripped apart and soaked in mud too. 

Mando looked like an injured Crayt Dragon, majestic but hurt, weak. Full of rage and fire but not able to use it anymore. He was panting his helmet leaned back against the wall, hands left weak beside his legs, his gloves also muddy. You started to panic. Is he okay?

“Are you okay, Mando?” you asked and made a step forward. Careful. 

He turned his head a little so his visor was facing you. 

“...No.” he pressed out. Even under that mud, his beskar was gleaming in the dim light of the Crests cargo hold. You were always kind of hypnotised by the way his armor reflected the lights. You knew that he knew it, he had caught you staring various times. But he had never mentioned it or called you out on it. It even seemed like he enjoyed it. You remember one time, as you were repairing his ship he caught you staring as he was welding some parts together and you were mesmerized at how beautiful the lightning bow was reflected by his beskar plates. He had turned around, looking at you stopping everything he was doing. 

You stared back right into his visor not being able to look away. He had tilted his head a little bit, so slowly as if he was grinning at you. You could only imagine but you knew he had a smug smirk going on under that damn helmet. You could just smirk back at him shrugging. 

He had chuckled, so softy, his shoulders shaking, just a little. Then he had turned back around and started welding again. 

“Kriff, Mando, what’s wrong, do you need help?” now really panicking as you got pulled back into reality.

“No,” he answered, again. 

Now you were just confused. What was wrong with him. He was acting weird and you didn’t know what to do. 

“What are you talking about…? I-” 

“Shhh.” he shushed you. “Don’t panic. I’m not hurt.” 

You relaxed a little, you weren’t very good at playing doctor and you knew that if Mando would get hurt bad, you wouldn’t be able to help him properly. Your shoulders dropped in relief.

“Maker, you were really scaring me. Don’t do that again Mando.” 

The Mandalorian chuckled. Him chuckling was very rare so you knew something was up. The last time you heard him chuckle was when he caught you staring.

“I am okay. I’m sorry for scaring you. I am kriffing sore.” he huffed, looking at his dirty boots and at the trail of mud he left on the floor. “I...I had a hard time. I- ...yeah.” he was stuttering. 

You looked at him questioningly. He still acted strangely.

You closed the small gap between the two of you and sat down in front of him with your legs crossed. His visor followed your movements. 

“You don’t seem okay to me, Mando.” you whispered looking at him,

You saw his shoulders rising, just a few millimeters, but far enough for you to know that you hit a nerve.

“I…” he paused again, slowly taking off his dirty gloves revealing his skin. You never saw him take anything off, this was the first time him showing you his skin. Oh boy, somethings coming.

He laid his gloves down between his legs, looking at them for a little too long as if he was still thinking, forming sentences in his head.

“Look, I had a hard time today. I nearly got into some...bad trouble and- “ he stopped and cleared his throat.

Your heart rate picked up on speed as he raised his head to look at you again. Your hands trembled a little but you realized he was too. He was nervous. 

“I just realized that if I died, I would die alone. Like, I mean I know the child would miss me but...I never had someone...special.” his helmet tiled down at his trembling hands again.

“Someone special?” your mouth was dry like kriffing Tattooine. Your heart was beating, you could even hear it, stars, Mando could probably hear it too.

“Yeah. I never thought about that stuff. I always liked being alone. But since….” he stopped again taking a deep breath. His voice was rough as he continued.

“...since I met...you, I realized how lonely I am.”

You didn’t know what to answer to that. You knew what he was trying to tell you but didn’t dare to help him out and say what you wanted to say. You were too nervous. You both sat in awkward silence for a few seconds which seemed endless.

“Look, I….you...you are special to me.” he gulped and looked up again. His voice was muffled, his vocoder having a hard time picking it up. But you heard him still.

“Mando...stars.” you felt your cheeks heat up. Hearing these words out of his mouth felt so strange. The Mandalorian, who was always short on words, telling you he had a crush on you. You didn’t know how to respond to that.

“I’m sorry.” he sighed and his gaze dropped again. “I shouldn’t have said that.” his shoulders dropped and he suddenly looked so small.

“No, no wait, Mando. I...you can’t imagine how...how. Oh well.” you never were good at feelings. “I am feeling the same...about you. It feels like you are my missing piece.”

As he looked up at you this time you could tell he gained his confidence back. 

“You know,” he started. “ You know, you were on my mind all the time as I was hunting down this womp rat.” he gestured to the frozen nautolan. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up even more. You must look like an idiot as you were smiling at him. All those times you were thinking about him you didn’t know he was thinking about you too.

He suddenly held out his hand. His bare hand. No dirty Mando-Gloves with holes that had been stitched up poorly. His bare skin.

“Please take my hand, cyare.” he murmured.

You were surprised by his nickname for you, probably mando’a. You slowly reached out and gently took his hand. His skin was warm and soft just like you imagined it. As your fingers intertwined with yours he slowly and gently pulled you closer to him. You followed his movements until you were sitting awkwardly between his sprawled-out legs, very very close to him. He smelled like gunpowder.

He cradled both of your cold hands in his warm ones, his hands were so big next to yours. 

“My name is Din.” he breathed and even if his eyes were covered you knew he was looking deep into yours. You were surprised that he had told you his name, since it’s sacred, and hidden, like his face. 

“That’s a beautiful name.” You smiled. 

He chuckled and cradled your face with one hand while pulling your other hand down to his cold breastplate. 

 “Thank you, senaar.” 

[consumedkings-archive]

WITCHING HOUR, a john seed/deputy fic.

chapter six: starving limbs

word count: 9.4k

rating: m for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop, tags will be updated accordingly.

warnings: body horror, hallucinations (?), joseph spends .000000003 seconds about to go demon but manages to rein it in. uhhhhh LOTS of uncomfortably awkward dialogue. and allusions to past ~steaminess~. that should be it!

notes: this chapter is a tiny bit of an interlude! we get some new players introduced (please note the tags), some ssssssssslooooooooow development with john and elliot too, and just a bit more intrigue. sorry in advance that i can't write anything that doesn't have both body horror and horror-humor in it.

thank you to my beloved @starcrier​​ and @shallow-gravy​​ for putting their eyeballs on this for me, and @vasiktomis​​ for listening to me wax and wane poetic about my agonies; i would be nothing, no-one, without you, and i love you all so dearly!

“Who was that?”

Tall, short-cropped blonde hair. Lots of dark layers. A bolt-action rifle with a scope on it.

“Jacob.”

Not one of ours, he thought, turning the truck onto the highway. Not one of ours. Thought the fuckers were all dead or gone. Where the fuck did she come from?

“Why aren’t we going back to the compound?”

Did she set Fall’s End on fire?

“Jacob?”

“Holy shit.” He exhaled the words out of his mouth, billowing out of his chest in a sigh that only barely scratched the surface of his frustration at listening to Isolde pester him nonstop. Without looking at the brunette next to him, Jacob said, “You must be where John learned how not to shut the fuck up.”

He could feel Isolde’s eyes narrow more than he saw it happen. “I think that’s a Seed trait.”

“If I knew who that was,” Jacob continued, glossing over her little barb, “don’t you think I would have said?”

“Oh, please. You seem the type to get off on being withholding,” Sol snipped pointedly. He shot her a look.

“Don’t throw a tantrum, Isolde.”

“So why aren’t we going back to the compound?” She pressed, and Jacob’s mouth twisted into a grimace. It was a fair enough question—more fair than the initial one she’d posed, anyway—but even now, to a woman that was arguably close enough to a sister-in-law one way or another, he found himself reluctant to elaborate.

It had been over a year of refusing to expand upon questions his brothers posed, absences from family gatherings or an unwillingness to pursue people who had shown a clear romantic interest in him. There were some things that—well, that he had selfishly wanted to keep for himself.

“Gotta pick someone up,” is what he said after a moment, turning down the highway toward the Whitetails.

Isolde turned the heater up, and glanced behind them, as though their little guest might have taken to following them. “And who, pray tell, are we picking up?”

He exhaled out of his nose. “Stop asking questions.”

“Well, you Seed boys have a habit of leaving crucial information out!” Isolde snapped. “For example: John led me to believe that this encroaching cult was well and done, taken care of, extinguished, eliminated, exorcised—”

“You’re on a tangent.”

“There wasn’t supposed to be anymore,” she said after a moment. “Hunting. Killing. It was—you lot were supposed to be all done, now that you’ve run the folk out of their own home.”

Jacob glanced over at Isolde. Bundled up in thick fabrics, but still blushed from the cold, she looked quite small; for a woman clocking in at five-foot-eleven, he thought he’d never seen Isolde so swallowed-up, wallowing, despondent.

“You got an opinion on that?” Jacob asked dryly.

“You know that I don’t,” she muttered. “Just wish you’d have left the bloody fucking mess behind before I got here, is all.”

“I know it might offend those delicate sensibilities—”

“I’m tired of talking now, Jacob, if you’d like to let me lament the loss of my tranquility in peace.”

It took a lot of self-control to not bite out a response. Naturally, talking and conversation were only convenient when Isolde herself had something to say. It seemed she really hadn’t changed all that much, had she? Maybe it was good that she was here, after all. When John had first mentioned over the phone that she was coming down, he’d pictured that she’d mostly be a hindrance—unnecessary drama, despite the fact that he knew she had every capacity to act professionally—but as of late, Joseph had been...

Well. Out of sorts. Perhaps a slap of a reality check would be good for him.

They drove deep into the Whitetails, far enough out that the radio reception crackled and disappeared, leaving them in silence. The clouds were swollen and gray with unshed snow; threatening, looming with the potential to dump, but not quite there yet. All the snow as of late had been a bit heavier than what he would have anticipated, even for Montana.

“So are you going to tell me who our mystery guest is?” Isolde asked after a while, once he was turning up the long, familiar drive to a house that didn’t belong to him.

He flicked the lights of the truck on as the tree-cover turned the dim, overcast light darker. “Name’s Arden.”

“Very helpful.”

“‘S a vet,” he continued. “Worked in Fall’s End. Couple of years.”

“Like the animal kind?” Isolde pressed.

“Mhm.”

“Very fitting for your brood.”

“Ha-ha.”

Another stretch of silence, another turn up the drive, and then: “So?”

Jacob exhaled through his nose. It was either now, or later, and to be honest, he thought he might prefer delaying the inevitable over listening to Isolde complain, but he knew that he needed to just rip the bandaid off.

“She’s...” He searched for the word, shifting in the driver’s seat. “My...Partner.”

Isolde was silent for a moment, but he could feel her eyes on him—insistent. Impatient. Incredulous. A variety of other i-words that properly encapsulated whatever flurry of emotion she was feeling at that moment.

“As in—” Isolde stopped. “Romantic?”

“I guess,” he said.

“You guess?” She scoffed, but her voice was a bit lighter now, lifted by the curiosity. “Is she cute?”

Jacob stared ahead. That detail felt like it went without saying.

“Smart?” Sol prompted. “Funny? Makes you smile? Inspires in you the desire to procreate?”

“We have dogs,” he replied, “together.”

“Oh, if that’s all.”

He muttered, “This is worse,” under his breath, drawing her eyes back to him—as though she had ever stopped trying to pick him apart while this excruciating piece of conversation dragged on—and she cocked her head to the side.

“Worse than what?”

“You complaining,” Jacob said plainly. “You can go back to that, if you want.”

Isolde purred, “No, I think I’ll stick with interrogation.”

He shot her a dry side-glance, lips pressing into a thin line. This wasn’t supposed to be how this went—this whole...Interaction. Introduction. He certainly never pictured that Isolde would have been the first person to meet Arden as his partner, and not Hope County’s veterinarian, but. Well.

Nothing to be done about it now.

He put the truck in park as soon as they’d pulled in front of a small, tidy cabin, far enough out that you’d have to know where to go to find it—it wasn’t something that would just be stumbled across. By now, the late afternoon had started to turn murky; what little overcast light had been making it through the boughs was nearly strangled now by the approaching nightfall.

“Stay,” Jacob said, leaving the keys in.

“Do not speak to me like a dog, Jacob.”

He turned his head to look at her, expression pulling tight. She sniffed.

“Fine.”

“Thank you.”

He got out of the truck, slamming the driver’s side door and trudging through the snow—only half-shoveled—up to the front door. Through the window and the curtains, he saw the cut of amber light from the reading lamp he knew was by the door, the tangle of warm limbs barely kept under a knit throw blanket. It was a bit too comfortable, in there; too easy to remember the times he’d come to this house just like this, skim his hands under the blanket as he sank into that couch. The last few months had been a bit more demanding than he’d anticipated.

Just as he reached for the door, it swung open with a happy creak, and he was greeted by a familiar face. Just not the one he wanted.

“Well, if it isn’t the big man himself!” the dark-haired man greeted, chirping happily. “Good evening, captain. We were anticipating your arrival.”

“Santiago,” Jacob replied flatly. He gestured with one hand, an indication he was ready to come inside. Santiago flashed a charming grin and made a sweeping motion as he stepped to one side. It had been two months of having John’s favorite lapdog watching after Arden, and two months of hearing the Faithful’s infuriating voice over the radio every time he tried to touch base.

It was all easily forgotten, even as Santiago chattered in the background, saying something elaborate and useless as he made his way into the living room and spotted her; just like he’d glimpsed through the window, Arden was curled up on the couch, book in hand, reading lamp on and dogs asleep on the floor.

The beasts—glossy, long-haired Belgian Shepherds named Castor and Pollux—lifted their heads almost simultaneously, regarded Jacob, and then wagged tufted tails against the floor. They only looked at him for a second before their pointed snouts turned expectantly toward Arden.

She said something, quick and soft and foreign, and they leaped to their feet immediately to crowd him, large enough that their heads tilted to gaze at him reached past his hip bones even while they obediently remained on all-fours.

“Boys are sleeping on the job,” Jacob said gruffly as he gave them each two quick pets, lifting his gaze from the dogs to Arden. The corners of her mouth ticked upward, amused.

“They’re on break. State-mandated.” Her head tilted, loose curls framing her face where they’d fallen out of her bun. “Santi and I heard some chatter on the radio. Fifteen, huh?”

He grimaced, just for a second. His hands itched—to card through her hair, to tilt her face up—but he stayed where he was and instead watched as she came to a stand, tossing her book onto the couch. There were a lot of things that he thought about saying; questions beyond what their brief conversations had been, things that had been sitting on his mind.

Are you happy? Are you happy with this world I’m preparing us for?

“I’m taking you to the compound,” is what he said instead.

Arden laughed, reaching up to cup his jaw. “I figured you wouldn’t be rolling up to my house near-dark after two months of forcing me to cohabitate with Santiago just for fun.”

“In preparation,” Santiago intoned dutifully from the kitchen, sounding like his mouth was full, “for our rapidly impending marriage, cariña.”

“Enough,” Jacob interjected, “out of you, Vidal. Arden, is your stuff ready?”

“Yes, I packed.” She moved to the window, hoisting a bag off of the ground and glancing out through the glass. “Who’d you bring?”

Jacob took in a breath. Too much was going on, and not enough was happening in the way that he wanted it to. The stranger with a precise shot was still hungering in the back of his mind for his attention. When he’d dropped John’s little attack dog here two months ago, he’d intended his next stop-by to be taking Arden to the bunker. Elliot’s killing spree had only made that time longer, and then the Family had rolled into town, and now—

Well, now he was tired of looking for reasons to delay bringing her home, and just needed the one to do so.

As Santiago began gathering his things—decidedly less ready than Arden was—he crossed the room to where she was, turning her face from the window and back toward him.

“Oh,” she said, pleasantly. “Hello.”

“You get whatever you want,” he murmured, “for putting up with that incessant chatter.”

“One thing? Or many things?”

“Negotiable.” He grimaced. “Depending.”

She flashed a smile, tilted her head, and kissed the palm of his hand. “Hm. Brave of you.”

“Dr. Hale,” he rumbled, voice pitching low, watching the way her lashes fluttered prettily and her chin tilted. Expectant. But not yet, Jacob thinks. Not yet. “Are you plotting to extort me?”

Arden’s chin tilted out of his grasp, and she squirmed out from between him and the window, slick as can be despite her height. The woman was all wiry muscle, quick and precise movements, nothing wasted and nothing tossed aside. “Perhaps,” she replied over her shoulder, “but it wouldn’t be plotting if I told you, now would it?”

“What’s the word for ‘here’?” Santi asked from the hallway. “You know, for the hounds?”

Arden’s attention turned back to the brunette, and she patted his shoulder. “If I told you what it was,” she said, “they wouldn’t be very effective protection dogs, would they?”

“I think you mean attack dogs.”

“Interchangeable,” she acquiesced. “Are you packed, Santi?”

He grinned, glancing at Jacob. “Is just stuff, no? I am not interested in the material.”

Her gaze flickered to Jacob, a look of, oh, is that so? before she told Santiago, “Well, out into the truck with you, then. Dogs.”

She didn’t say the command, but whistled, sending them racing out the door excitedly around Santiago. When he’d followed suit and Arden had turned the lights off in the house, making her own way to the front door, Jacob reached for her and snagged her hand to turn her back around.

A second passed. She waited expectantly.

“I haven’t told them,” Jacob said after a minute. Arden’s wrist slipped through his grip, catching at the base of her hand.

“About the fifteen dead men?” she asked. “Don’t you think that’s important?”

His eyes flickered over the shape of her face; in the dark, he could still pick out the planes of her cheekbones, the dip of her nose, the cupid’s bow of her lips. He’d traced just those things with his hands and mouth plenty of times before. “About you.”

Arden said, “Oh.”

Jacob waited for a second longer, but when he couldn’t pick out any emotion besides, perhaps, confusion on her face, he prompted, “Oh?”

“Well, I just don’t see how that’s pertinent right now,” Arden replied plainly. “People are getting killed.”

Per usual, even after over a year of being together, she somehow managed to completely unseat him. Trying not to sound frustrated, he elaborated, “I just thought you should know, Joseph and John and Faith don’t...”

Jacob felt his voice trail off; Arden tilted her head inquisitively, like she didn’t quite see the point in the conversation being dragged on. He never felt like he was dragging on a conversation, except with her—the woman trimmed the fat out of every interaction down to the barebones, if she could.

“They don’t know,” he finished. “Also, Isolde’s in the car. John’s old business partner.”

“Damage control,” Arden said.

“Damage control,” Jacob agreed.

The blonde gave his hand a quick squeeze, tugging him forward and, as though they hadn’t been apart for two months, as though he had not admitted to keeping her his very own special secret for this long, she kissed him. It was quick—a brush of their lips, fast and easy and not at all wanting, as though he’d never been gone at all—before she turned away and stepped out the door, waving in the headlights.

Jacob locked the door behind him, out of habit rather than necessity. As Arden loaded the dogs into the back and then her bag as well, he opened the back door of the truck to where Santiago had already climbed in.

“Hurry in, guapa, you’ll catch cold,” the brunette said, beckoning Arden in as though she weren’t in the process of climbing in already.

She smiled wryly, puffing the air out as she hoisted herself inside and kicked the snow off of her boots. “Thank you, Santi, for your concern.”

Jacob rolled his eyes, closing the door behind Arden and then settling himself back into the driver’s seat. There were about forty-five seconds of blissful silence as he navigated back down the driver before Santiago cleared his throat.

“So, Jacob, who is your friend?” he asked. His voice was sly, but Jacob stifled the urge to tell him to shut up. He’d probably go whining to John that he’d done Jacob a favor only to get bullied for it.

“This is Isolde,” Jacob said, gesturing at the woman in the passenger seat. “John’s mommy.”

Santi let out a low, little whistle, and said wistfully, “Ah, I have always wanted to meet the woman who raised our John.”

Isolde’s expression twisted something vicious. “I’d kill myself if I had to bear that fucker in my womb.”

“You took care of him while he was in Atlanta,” Jacob pointed out. “Cleaned up his messes in the courtroom. Set him on the straight and narrow. Sounds like a mother to me.”

“Ugh,” was her reply. He knew the kinds of things that John had been up to in Atlanta—post-grad, the youngest brother had been in poor shape. Looking for fulfillment in all the wrong places. If Isolde hadn’t nipped that shit in the bud, who knew where John would have been when they’d rounded him up? He’d never heard John say anything more than he’d said “I have to ask Isolde...” back when they’d been going to school and working together, but he imagined that once they had opened the firm together, spending weekends high out of his fucking mind wasn’t much of an option anymore.

Not, at least, for someone who was going to be doing business with Isolde’s name attached. She was a tidy little control freak like that.

“Oh,” Arden said, her face lighting up with curiosity, “you’re Joseph’s Isolde too?”

“Ugh.”

Jacob flashed Arden a grin through the rearview mirror, carefully turning the truck back onto a road that was more....Well, road than what they had been going on, not quite to the highway yet but close. He’d just have to get back to the compound. Get back to the compound, get Arden and Isolde settled in, and then he could go on the hunt.

It was becoming, unfortunately, more and more of a chore to keep things under control as time went on. Joseph wasn’t helping, and while John’s energy was not typically the “calm and efficient” kind, he at least had been propelled to take action. Of course, that action had ended up being more trouble than it was worth, and—

His brain was turning in circles, over and over again, a snake latched on to its own tail. It was almost deafening, to try and listen to Arden asking Isolde questions—what Joseph was like “back then”, about what it was like to work with John, how was her flight from Georgia—was she liking Montana? You know, aside from the killing and whatnot?—while his brain replayed the same loop. Would be easier if John was here, it said, would be easier if John was here to cause more problems and then try to clean them up. At least someone would be doing something, right?

Get back to the compound. Get everyone settled. Then he could make a plan.

And boy, was he going to fucking need one.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

By the time they had gotten back to the compound, Isolde felt like she was in a pretty good mood. Pretty good, at least, for getting shot at and realizing you’d been duped by someone who shouldn’t have had the audacity to try and dupe you at all.

The fact of the matter was that John knew better—he knew better than to lie by omission to her, because she was always going to find out that he’d done it one way or another, and yet he’d done it anyway. Their time apart had made John bold in his disrespect of her, and that was something that just was going to have to get immediately remedied.

Well, as immediate as possible, given that she was in the middle of bumfuck-nowhere-Montana with only a lick of cell service.

“It’s been really fun,” Isolde announced, climbing out of the truck’s passenger side as everyone else disembarked. Santiago had swung around the back to let the dogs out and haul Arden’s bag out. “I’m going to go sit in my rudimentary shack and pretend like today didn’t happen.”

Santi flashed her a wide, toothy smile. “I have an alcoholic beverage that may assist in forgetting.”

“I bet that you do.”

“Sol,” Jacob said, drawing her attention to him; he tilted his head, indicating the chapel where she knew Joseph was likely waiting to hear back about the things they’d seen. She felt her shoulders shag.

“Don’t become my least favorite Seed.”

“He’ll want to know,” the redhead cautioned. “See for himself you’re fine.”

“I’m not,” she snapped, “fine, and if I’m being honest—”

“You always are, in my experience.”

“—the last person I want to be making feel good is your brother.”

Jacob said, “I’m the one that’s going to suffer for it.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. The eldest Seed shrugged his shoulders and started heading toward the chapel, nudging Arden ahead of him in a gesture that was both affectionate and protective; that was nearly the strangest thing to come out of the day. Aside from their newcomer trying to make their own live-action version of The Most Dangerous Game.

“Fine!” Isolde relented at last, trudging after them. “I must be fucking insane, to keep helping you lot.” And then, as though to comfort herself: “You’d probably muck up the details, anyway.”

Jacob flashed her a smile over his shoulder. “Practically family at this point.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

The inside of the chapel was degrees warmer—so much so that Isolde hadn’t realized how cold she actually was until she was within range of the space heater rattling laboriously, the sound bouncing between the wood paneling of the walls and ceiling. Joseph was sitting on one of the benches a few rows back from the front, head bowed and cradled against the fold of his hands. A young blonde woman sat beside him, but rather than bent at the waist, her face was lifted, like she was drinking in whatever light and warmth she could get.

Suffused in the amber glow of candlelight from different little pockets around the chapel, he did strike a Renaissance-esque silhouette. Faithful In Repose, or something like that.

It wasn’t until Jacob said, a few feet away, “We’re back,” that Joseph’s head lifted and he came to a stand. His expression looked mutedly relieved—like perhaps he was trying to not appear too relieved.

“I was worried,” he sighed, reaching up to plant his hands on Jacob’s shoulders, “when I heard your radio call. We both were. Fifteen of ours, you say?”

“I think so, anyway,” Jacob replied, not moving to return the physical gesture but not brushing it off, either. “I’m going to go back out after I get Arden settled and get an actual headcount. Hopefully track down the person we saw.”

“Good,” Joseph murmured, and then paused, his gaze flickering to the honeyed blonde standing just behind Jacob. “Arden?”

“Hi,” she greeted, reaching around and offering her hand to Joseph. “Arden Hale.”

His gaze looked inquisitively to Jacob. It was excruciating for Isolde to watch it, the confusion on his face as he took Arden’s hand in his and said, “I remember you, from before, don’t I?”

“Probably,” she agreed with a little smile. “But only in passing. I ran the vet clinic.”

“That’s right!” the younger blonde exclaimed, her face lighting up. “I remember you for sure.” She paused. “I was Rachel, back when we met.”

“I remember you too, Faith.” Arden’s smile was light and friendly, despite the fact that she referred to what had been her livelihood in the past tense rather than present tense. It was a painful reminder that they had run the other people with livelihoods out of Hope County—and that it didn’t seem to bother or unsettle Arden at all was enough to make Isolde wonder.

“And you—?” Joseph paused, clearly trying to keep some kind of cool, calm, and collect as he muddled through a thing that his brother was offering no explanation on. “Jacob just, ah...Picked you up?”

“Yes,” Arden replied politely.

Joseph’s gaze darted back to Jacob. He waited a heartbeat for her to elaborate, and when she didn’t, he said, “I see.”

“Do you?” Isolde prompted, because maybe she was gleaning a bit of enjoyment out of seeing Joseph on the brink of squirming. She knew him well enough to tell he was furiously stuffing down a mounting frustration—Arden, quick and to the point and unwilling to waste time on elaborating something she probably thought wasn’t important, and Jacob, tight-lipped and ready to leave.

Now she knew why Jacob hadn’t wanted to say anything. He’d been keeping Arden for himself, and now this stranger on the hunt had forced his hand.

“So,” Jacob said after a moment, “I’m going to get Arden settled. Sol, bunk with you?”

“Sure,” she replied, only managing to barely contain her delight at having figured out a dynamic in which Joseph was at a disadvantage. “I’d welcome the company of someone other than a Seed.”

“I’ll help,” the girl, who Arden had referred to as Faith, offered. “I could use a good stretch, and I can’t wait to catch up, Arden.”

Jacob made a low noise, something like uh-huh but more displeased, before he turned on his heel and started marching resolutely back to the door, Faith chatting excitedly with Arden as they followed.

Before he could reach the door, Joseph said, “Jacob?”

The redhead paused, turning to look back at them.

“When you have a minute,” he continued, “I’d like a word.”

Jacob’s mouth set into a firm line. He didn’t respond, but gave one short nod before he stepped outside and ushered Faith and Arden out ahead of him.

Isolde watched them go for one heartbeat before she began, “It’s refreshing to see you squirm, Joseph.”

“You always were a little spiteful,” Joseph agreed, his voice mild despite the barb in the words. Isolde’s gaze snapped back to him, head tilted in defiance.

“Don’t deny me my pleasures.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Another moment of silence passed, one where Joseph’s gaze took a leisurely journey over her—too leisurely to have been anything less than admiring—before he said, “I was worried, you know.”

“Well,” Sol replied tartly, “we were getting shot at.”

“You shouldn’t be leaving the compound,” he continued, his voice a bit firmer now, “not while we’re not sure that the Family isn’t still around. Jacob is capable...” Isolde waited for him to finish his thought, to tack on the contingency, but all he said was, “Enough, for himself.”

“I don’t think you have any grounds to be telling me to do anything.”

The words left her mouth coiled tight and unforgiving. Joseph had always been in the bad habit of that—telling her, rather than asking her or suggesting to her; as though his suggestions should be taken as gospel and phrased them as such. Even back then—

I want you to marry me. I want you to be my wife, Soli.

—it had been a demand, not an ask. Not a request—but something that was almost enough to be a command.

The man let out a small, short breath, looking at her for a moment in a way that was almost wary. Good, she thought, you should be wary of me.

“I know,” he began, “that we didn’t leave things on the best of terms...”

His voice trailed off, like he intended to let her interrupt him. Isolde crossed her arms over her chest and waited expectantly.

“But I meant what I said.” Joseph fixed her with his eyes—infuriatingly blue, disgustingly blue. “That I’m happy you’re here.”

“And I meant what I said,” she replied tightly, “that you should be.”

Joseph sighed, “I don’t want to argue with you.”

“Then I don’t know why you opened your mouth in the first place—”

“Isolde,” and now he finally sounded a little frustrated, the tone bleeding into his voice. “We have to be on the same side, if you’re going to be here.”

She knew what that meant. She knew that what he was saying was, if you’re going to fight me at every turn, then there’s no reason for you to be here. But he was wrong about that; it was all the more reason for her to be there, to keep him in check, because clearly, nobody else was. Even Jacob, who should have had every reason to want to share this apparent relationship he’d been having, had kept it a secret from Joseph. And what did that say about him? What did that say about the person he’d become?

“I thought of you often,” he continued, his voice pitching a little lower now, taking a step forward. “And the mistakes that I made. That we both—” Joseph paused, his eyes flickering down to her mouth for a split second before lifting back to meet her gaze. “—made.”

Don’t fucking do it, she thought, watching him lift his hand to sweep the hair away from her shoulder in the affectionate gesture he had done so many times before then. If she let him, maybe he would follow up the way he had done so many times before all of this; he would have dragged his fingers along the pillar of her throat, pressed his mouth to the hollow under her jaw, sweet girl, my Soli, so gorgeous, and—

“Well, I didn’t,” Isolde replied, stepping away from him before his hand could make contact, before he could try and suck her back into the world that he’d had her in before. They were different now—she had known a Joseph before Eden’s Gate, and he had known an Isolde before Eden’s Gate, and all that had happened between was well and buried and done away with. “Think of you. At all.”

She focused on the door waiting for her, to take her out of the chapel and out of the romantic amber glow drenching the handsome features of Joseph’s face, to take her away from the cloying words. It couldn’t feel genuine coming from him, not right now. Not anymore.

“I don’t believe you,” is what he said, called after her just as she slammed the door behind her. “Not after the things I’ve done for you.”

The things I’ve done for you, he said. Fucker.

More like the things he’d done for himself.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The house was quiet when they returned. Scarlet must have retired early this evening; those nights that he’d spent sleeping in his car just down the street, he’d seen the light on in the downstairs living room well into the night, but the clock was only barely cresting eleven.

As they walked inside, Boomer lifted his head from where he’d been sleeping on the floor, stretched out in front of the couch. The Heeler’s tail thumped against the floor a few times, and then a low growl pitched out of him upon first seeing John come through the door again—only to have it waved away and quieted by a gesture of Elliot’s hand.

“Elliot,” he started, closing and locking the front door behind him, “are you sure you don’t—”

“I really—” Elliot’s voice tightened, wobbling sharp and tense. “—really need you to shut the fuck up.”

John had become familiar with the way that she said things; the difference between a casual shut the fuck up and the cadence of this, I need you to, so close to the thing he wanted her to say the most but only available to him now if he dredged it up from his memories. So he did as she asked and closed his mouth, instead contenting himself with replaying that parsed little clip of her words over again in his head.

I need you. He could fool himself, trick his brain into thinking as she hung the jacket up, the dips of her face shadowed by what little amber light was glowing from the one lamp left on in the living room. Just like she’d done it before—that night, before the scar. Before her lie. John, I want you so badly, I need you, I need you John, saying it against his mouth in a kiss and driving her nails into him like she wanted to leave a mark that wouldn’t fade, like she wanted him to think of her, always.

I do, he thought absently, jostled out of his near-daydream when she brushed past him to head for the stairs, the hound trailing at her feet protectively. Think of you, always.

“Could sleep in my bed,” he suggested, following a foot or two behind in case she decided to swing. “If you’re feeling out of sorts.”

“Is that what you think I’m feeling, John?” Elliot’s voice carried with it an idle kind of venom, the words barely above a whisper and tossed over her shoulder. It was a loaded question, of course. There was no right answer. In fact, it was more of a threat than anything. “I’m just dying to get some insight from the person who has clearly never read me wrong.”

He didn’t stop when she did; instead, he carried himself all the way to the landing that she paused at until there was hardly any space left between them, where he could still smell the wild winter blushing her cheeks and chilling her skin.

“I just remember,” he tried again, remaining casual, “you always seemed to sleep much better with a body next to you.” And then, pointedly: “A live one. Human and not dog-shaped.”

“Frankly, I don’t think you know a fucking thing about me,” the redhead snipped out.

“Well, we both know that isn’t true.” His eyes flickered over her; the urge to reach up and card his fingers through her hair, glide the pad of his thumb from her chin down into the hollow of her throat stung hard and bright in his chest, flowering with want. “I think we know each other quite intimately, you and I.”

“Fucking,” she hissed, “does not equate intimacy.”

“But it did.” John felt his mouth tick up at the corner. “For you. For us.”

Something vicious twisted her mouth. I know you, he wanted to say, but knew that he shouldn’t because it would only incense her further—he was having to straddle a very thin line. I know you, Elliot Honeysett, and I know we were fucking made for each other and you’re going to see it, too. One way or another.

“I only,” he continued, reaching up slowly and waiting for her to balk, “wanted to offer it.”

She didn’t jerk away from his touch, but before he could tuck the coppery strand behind her ear she had leaned away from him, shrugging off the affection. For a moment, her lashes fluttered, her expression changing into something he almost didn’t recognize. It took him a second to realize that she was considering, that it wasn’t blatant rejection just vibrating under her skin but something else. The times that Elliot had wanted him the most had always been when she was looking for comfort, and the gentle tremor in her hands that she tried to bury into her crossed arms, the way she was making a concerted effort to keep her breathing steady—she wanted him, as she had before.

It was a tiny, tiny little thrill, only a degree closer to what he wanted, but it was there nonetheless.

“No,” she said finally, doing that infuriating thing she did when she turned her eyes away from him—like she wanted to deprive him of her attention, her hand brushing his out of immediate reach of her. “I don’t want to sleep in your bed.”

“Alright,” he replied agreeably, even as every bone in his body disagreed with her decision. He stepped around her, heading up the stairs to the hallway that led to the guest bedroom. “But if you have a bad dream and want someone to hold you—”

“I won’t.”

“—you know where to find me,” John added playfully over his shoulder. Her footsteps drifted after him against the thick carpet, swallowed up by the high ceilings of the house.

“I hate you,” she bit out, her voice still soft so as not to rouse her mother.

John tried very hard not to smile. “I’ve told you once before, you need a catchphrase you can sound like you actually believe,” he told her. “That one just doesn’t hit the same anymore.”

She shot him a stormy, murderous look before brushing past him to reach the end of the hall where her bedroom was. Boomer darted ahead of her, eager to be in bed; John said, “Goodnight, Ell,” from the distance that kept them separated.

Elliot was halfway through the door to her bedroom when she said, “Eat shit, John.”

He shut the bedroom door behind him just enough to leave it cracked—Elliot still hadn’t come clean about the sleepwalking, but he still knew, and that meant he couldn’t have his wife and his unborn child traipsing around in the snow and potentially getting hypothermia while he was asleep.

It wasn’t until he’d undressed into more comfortable clothing that he crawled into the bed and realized how exhausted he really was; the adrenaline that had flooded his system at Elliot’s apparent panic had died out now, leaving him feeling hollowed out and a little empty.

John couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe Weyfield wasn’t as good for Elliot as she had wanted, and though that meant she would suffer for now, it would make their return to Hope County all the better; for him, and for her.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He tossed and turned for a few hours, and found himself dredged out of his state of half-asleep by the jarring sound of his phone going off. John glanced over at the nightstand where it was vibrating, dull and insistent, against the wood. With no numbers saved as contacts in his phone, it was almost impossible to tell who it was, which always made it a bit of an uneasy endeavor when it came to picking up an unknown call.

Sitting up in bed blearily, he reached over and hesitated for just a minute before he hit the accept call button, bringing it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, Johnny.” It was Isolde. Her voice sounded tight, uncomfortable. “How’s Georgia? Hm? Everything good?”

He hesitated again, but for a different reason this time; Sol’s voice was heavily implying something was wrong, and John was not privy just yet to what it was that had put her on edge. “It’s good,” he said, climbing out of bed and wandering to glance out the window. The night outside was peaceful—or as peaceful as it could look, with the dark treeline looming in his vision and the swollen clouds threatening another downpouring of snow.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s...progressing,” he ventured, still half-asleep and clearing his throat. “Slowly, but I think I—”

“That’s good. That’s really, really good, honey. Hey, John? By the way, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Ah. So she was mad.

John opened his mouth to respond when Isolde plunged on, her voice pitching in a reckless kind of vibration, “I told you not to fucking lie to me. That means by omission.”

“Well, now—”

“I came out here out of the kindness of my fucking heart, you asshole. I fucking—they should be calling me Mother Fucking Theresa for the shit I’ve done for you, and you have the audacity to not only neglect to tell me that you didn’t know for sure the cult was done with but that your wife doesn’t want you? You’re hunting this girl across states and she fucking turned you in to the goddamn government?”

John grimaced. He was going to have to chat with Jacob and Joseph about how much information they were deciding to divulge with people. People, like Isolde, who didn’t need to know that his and Elliot’s relationship had ended on more than just “bad terms” and that the gap to heal it was actually much, much larger than perhaps he had implied.

“Also, can’t ignore the fact that you were in government custody at one point but your fucking cockroaches killed government officials to get you out—”

He started, “Sol—”

“No no no, do not fucking ‘Sol’ me, baby—I almost got fucking shot today. I watched someone hunt your fucking homeless population for sport and then make a very clear threat to do the same for me. And the worst part of it is that I’m not even that mad about that bloody bit, but—”

The sound of a door dragging against the carpet wobbled through the air, half-masked by his own closed door and the gentle whirr of the heater kicking on. He glanced blearily a the clock on the nightstand. It blinked 3:27 AM at him, and as he walked to the door and peeked out into the hallway, he saw that Elliot was wandering down the stairs.

Sol chattered viciously in his ear, but he wasn’t hearing it anymore; Ell moved leisurely, a pace that was unhurried, swaying on her feet a little as she came to a stop at the front door of the house and wandering in pajama shorts and an over-sized sweatshirt.

“Hold on,” John said, interrupting Sol’s tirade. “Something’s—can you hold on a second? Something’s wrong.”

“Oh? Yeah? Really? Something’s wrong? You fucking idiot—”

In her haze, Elliot tried to pull the door open. Her hand fumbled tiredly, clumsily with the lock, but the coordination needed to undo it just wasn’t there.

“I gotta go,” he murmured into the phone. “Listen, Sol, I’ll call you back in the morning—bye.”

Isolde’s indignation did not go unnoticed, but it did go unanswered as he hit the end call button and put the phone volume on mute, tossing it onto the bed as he made his way down the stairs. Elliot seemed to have given up trying to unlock the door and now tugged absently against the handle, staring out through the glass front; from the stairs, he could hear that she was whispering something, but not what it was.

“Ell?” John whispered, coming closer. He wasn’t supposed to wake a sleepwalker, right? Gently, he reached up to try and disengage her hand from the curved door handle. Her voice was still so soft that he almost couldn’t hear what was she whispering, but —

“...can’t,” Elliot was saying, to the glass—to the door—to someone or something on the other side of it. “Can’t let you in.”

“Baby,” he said, uncurling her fingers from around the curve of cool metal, “come on. Let’s get you back to bed.”

Her head snapped, mechanical and machine-like, to fix her gaze on him; the movement almost made him jump it was so precise, like she had just only realized he was there beside her. Though her eyes were open, they were glassy and drifted absently, never once staying in one spot for very long but never straying very far from his face.

“She keeps asking,” Ell told him, letting him take her hand away from the door and blinking, her brows pinching together at the center of her forehead. “She keeps asking me to let her in. She misses me.”

“Who?” He didn’t know that he really wanted to know the answer to the question, but it came out of him anyway—maybe the morbid curiosity of wanting to know what it was she saw in her dreams when she did this sort of thing, and maybe because he’d never been the type of person who could leave a door unopened.

As he guided her carefully to the stairs, their progress halting and uneasy, Elliot said pleasantly, “I told Joey I can’t let her in.”

He felt his skin prickle, dread crawling up his spine. He knew it. He knew he didn’t want to know the answer and he’d asked anyway, and now John would have to go to sleep with the knowledge that at least in her dreams, Elliot was seeing her dead best friend. Outside of her house.

“But I don’t want to,” the redhead continued. “She keeps asking me, but I don’t want to. She doesn’t have a face.”

His stomach churned violently. “Let’s go to bed,” he murmured, helping her up the stairs and to the guest room, pulling the blankets aside. His phone blinked with several missed calls from the same number—likely Isolde, raging mad he’d hung up on her. “Easy now, Ell.”

“She’s waiting for me,” Elliot whispered, like she was sharing a secret with him, her voice bridging mournful and gutted. “Joey’s waiting for me. She’s waiting outside. I have to let her in, or she won’t let me sleep.”

He pulled the blankets aside, trying to brush off the dread that really hit him the second he heard Elliot say she won’t let me sleep. Once she was laying down in the bed, her lashes fluttered unsteadily, her hand gripping John’s loosely.

Out from the hallway, he heard a low whine. Boomer had stirred at the sound of their hushed voices and now stood in the doorway of the bedroom; when John turned and looked at him, the Heeler let out a low growl, threatening.

“Well, come on,” John whispered impatiently at the dog, “if you’re going to come in.”

Boomer turned his head. It was the most effective side-eye he’d seen a dog perform in a long time.

“I have to,” Elliot whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears now. “I’m so tired, and she won’t let me sleep.”

“It’s okay,” he told her, even though his stomach wrenched a little at her words again, this eerie mantra that insisted on coming out of her now. “You can sleep.”

A little paranoid, he glanced towards the window—but it was empty, devoid of looming corpses or monsters peeking furred faces in through the panes. Don’t be stupid, he thought to himself, moving to the window and reaching for the curtains. Nothing out there. Just Elliot having bad dreams.

He gave the forest, bathed in cold moonlight diffused and filtered through the cloud cover, a final glance over. And for one split second, he was sure he saw something move, scrambling up a tree and shaking the pine boughs in a flash of pale limbs and bony protrusions and—

The dread returned. Cold, trickling down his spine like an IV drip. Just an animal, he told himself, as though the movement did not look like some two-legged humanoid monster scaling the side of a tree with the ease of a spider. Just an animal.

“Come on, beastie, we haven’t got all night,” he said, drawing the curtains closed firmly and waving at Boomer. The dog seemed appeased by this and came in, immediately hopping up to curl roll-shaped in the crook of Elliot’s knees. With the bedroom door shut and the curtains drawn, and Elliot having drifted back to sleep, the room finally felt quiet again.

John slid into bed pulling the blanket up and exhaling a breath.

She doesn’t have a face.

She’s waiting for me.

She won’t let me sleep.

Troubling, that she was seeing these things in her sleep. That she was seeing dogs with human faces. That she was seeing anything at all. It was almost the same as when she’d been drugged up to the gills by the Family and their weird earthy drug—not unlike Bliss, but with some more uncomfortable properties to it.

It wasn’t possible that she was still being affected by it, was it? This far away from Hope County, this long after she’d been experiencing the actual active effects of the drug they’d been plying her with?

Beside him, Elliot stirred, shifting until she’d rolled over to face him. Beneath her eyelids, in the dark, he could see her eyes move restlessly; still dreaming, even now, even after all of that.

What’s going on in that brain of yours? He thought absently, reaching up and brushing a strand of hair from her face as she slept.

What aren’t you telling me?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When Elliot awoke the next morning, it was in a foreign bed.

She didn’t realize it, not right away; the first thing that struck her as odd was that a familiar smell washed over her, one that broke through the haze of slumber just a little, just enough to make her stir. It was like a memory—was she dreaming? Was she in a dream?

Stop squirming, breathed against the nape of her neck, the comfortable weight of an arm over her, locking her in place. I’m trying to sleep.

“Wh—?” Elliot felt the noise, garbled with a sudden surge of panic, muddle in her mouth viciously as she lurched into a sitting position. Her head swam; her stomach rolled with unspent nausea (yet one more reminder of her poor decision-making); but when she moved, so too did Boomer, leaping off of the bed and instantly alert.

And so did another body next to her.

She swung blindly at first, a knee-jerk reaction, and only barely registered that it was John in the bed with her, having caught her wrist and stopped her from clotheslining him straight in the trachea.

“Easy, Elliot!” he exclaimed, his voice hoarse from sleep.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she demanded, yanking her hand out of his grip. “How did—when did I—”

“Take a breath,” John cautioned, and instantly that hyper-awareness and panic was laser-focused, pin-pointed on the one thing that managed to be a tangible bane of her existence.

“Fuck you?” she said, incredulously. “Explain to me how I ended up in your fucking—”

“Elliot, you were sleepwalking,” he snipped. “I caught you trying to walk outside.”

She blinked at him, trying to process his words through a haze of blood rushing through her head and alarm bells sounding off rapidly. It was getting, she thought somewhere in the back of her mind, harder and harder to turn them off—to convince her brain that she wasn’t in immediate danger anymore, when she had identified a situation properly.

John is a threat? her muddled brain tried to parse through as she took in the scars and tattoos she had traced before—

(with her fingers with her mouth, while he knotted his fingers in her hair and sighed, please Ell please I’ll give you anything I’ll do anything)

—committed to memory.

Not a threat, she affirmed after a moment, lifting her eyes to his. Not a threat in the least.

“Okay?” he asked her, brows lifted. “Are we okay?”

“Why didn’t you just put me back in my bed?” she gritted out. “If you caught me sleepwalking.”

“And risk the beast ripping my hands off for coming into his territory? No, thanks.”

“Seems fine now.”

“Well,” John relented, “I invited him in.”

She rolled her eyes. Pushing the blankets off of her legs, Elliot passed her hands over her face, willing the alarm bells off. Red alert! Red alert! they screamed, over and over; we’re in danger, dig your heels in and sink your teeth in and tear tear tear—

The sound of the sheets rustling forced its way through the warning bells behind her just before John said, “You were talking too, last night.”

Elliot stopped, turning to look at him over her shoulder, eyes narrowed. “I suppose I said something like, ‘oh, John, I take it all back, please let me love you, I promise I’ll be the perfect cult wife’—”

The brunette lifted his hands in defense. “As ideal as that would have been, that was not the case.”

And then he didn’t say anything. John Seed, who could not possibly have learned how to shut the fuck up overnight, was regarding her very carefully—gauging her, getting a feel for what was going on in her brain. She felt her molars grind.

“Well, spit it out, then.”

John’s mouth twisted for a moment. “You told me you were trying to let Joey in,” he said finally. “That she kept asking you to let her in, but you couldn’t. And—”

A new wave of nausea washed over her. She didn’t think that was true. She didn’t that she had been dreaming about Joey. Had she? No, she would remember if—

(Joey, dirt packed under her nails and the flower blooms spilling out of the cavern of her chest, shaking the door, shaking it shaking it she won’t stop and she’s screaming even though she doesn’t have a mouth, even though her eyes and nose are smoothed out from her face, begging, begging to be let in, please let me in let me in letmeinletme—)

“—said she didn’t have a face,” he continued,

(LETMEIN)

“—and she wouldn’t let you sleep—”

(L E T M E I N)

“Um,” Elliot said, feeling faint as her brain dutifully trudged up the nightmarish dream sequence once again. “I don’t—um, I don’t think—”

John’s hand went to her shoulder, squeezing there at the junction between her shoulder and neck; instinctively, her hand flew up, gripping his wrist on a mechanical instinct to dig her nails in and rip his hand off of her.

He stayed firm—watching her, watching her reaction, brows furrowing. We like this, a part of her said, when his fingers splayed warm and calloused against the side of her neck, when her pulse jumped under the touch and the fog cleared a little. We remember this, and we like it.

“You said you were sleeping fine, Ell,” he murmured, his voice low as though not to spook her.

I know, she thought, feeling her lashes flutter as the urge to puke reared its head. I know what I said, I know what I fucking said, I know what I did, I’m not sleeping fine, I can’t remember when I slept fine, I can’t fucking sleep—

“I told you before.” The pad of his thumb swept down the front of her throat, close to the hollow just there; any lower and he’d be touching his handiwork. It was almost comforting, that he knew, that he was intimately familiar. “I’ll give you anything you want. Especially if it means helping you sleep at night.”

She knew that he meant it.

“I want,” she breathed, watching John’s eyes light up, “to punch you in the face so fucking bad.”

John sucked his teeth and regarded her ruefully. “Had me for a minute,” he told her. “Thought you were going to stop being so obtuse.”

“Disappointed?”

“A little, admittedly.”

“It’s good for you. Builds character.”

“You can’t be sleepwalking out of the house, barefoot, in the winter and pregnant,” he said, more firmly.

Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, Elliot.”

“No fucking shit? You’re sooo smart, John. Think maybe later, if you have time, you could explain to me how day and night works?” And now she did push his hand off of her—enough familiarity for one morning—and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “I have to shower and get ready.”

A frown planted itself on his face. “Ready for what?”

“Going to the stables,” she replied, opening the door and letting Boomer out into the hallway.

“I’ll come, too.”

Elliot stopped, blinking at him. “Sorry?”

“I said,” John began, having gotten out of bed and begun pulling his jeans on, “I’ll come too.”

“As much as I love the idea of you getting the shit kicked out of you by a horse—”

She cut herself off. The brunette raised a brow inquisitively—frustratingly distracting shirtless and standing there like he wasn’t the World’s Worst—and she shut her mouth promptly.

Taking John to the stables meant putting him out of his element. It also meant putting him directly in Sylvia’s path—and if there was someone who seemed almost as unimpressed with John as her mother, it was her new friend. She'd never seen him squirm as much as she had when Sylvia had clapped him on the back and said, jury's still out, but don't worry, bud! Like he'd never before had a woman not fall over herself for his attention.

“You know what?” She felt a smile tick the corner of her mouth. Even amidst the morning sickness riling in her stomach and the exhaustion from feeling like she hadn’t slept a wink, it still felt a little good. “Sure. You can come to the stables with me.”

Now it was his turn to narrow his eyes. He had one arm into a button-up when he stopped moving. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Elliot replied pleasantly. “But you’ve gotta do something. You can’t stand in the way. Be useful.”

“I can be useful,” he ventured. “It’s—what? Horses?”

“Yes, John, it is horses.”

“Great. Love them. Love horses. Very cool.”

“Uh-huh.” She eyed him, taking two steps out of the bedroom and then turning around. “And John?”

He let out puff of air, head tilting as he looked at her, having shrugged the other half of the shirt on. “Yes, Elliot?”

Elliot gave him a once-over, grimacing.

“Maybe don’t wear the Versace to the barn.”

[celestialraes]

(Not Funny Owl House Ideas & Headcanon Tings-) Part 4 ~Bonding Time~ Mini Fic

 Okay, 2 Owl House crack posts in a week, new record!

Ignoring my incredibly bad upload schedule, (if you’d even call it that), let get on with this crack idea! (Which is a little different than my normal stuff-)

@callmemichie​ It’s here.... :3

So since Lilith is now going to live at The Owl House now I came up with this..

Lilith and Luz family bonding time.

Oookay, look.

I know I know, “lUz HaTeS LiLiTh”

Please let me LIVE WITH AUNT AND NIECE BONDING TIME

Anywayyyy-

Onto the story!!!!

(Synopsis Type Thingy)

This was a routine for Lilith.

A ritual that has never been broken in 20 or so years.

That is, until she betrayed the emperor and started living with her sister at the Owl House.

It took her almost an entire week to take a shower. All for the sole purpose that she was up to her eyeballs in petty chores her sister gave her.

So when she finally did take a shower, she expected something to go wrong.

And low and behold!

Something did.

* * *

Lilith gripped each side of the basin until her knuckles turned white. She slowly looked up at the mirror, allowing some hair to fall into her face before letting out all the air she was holding in.

She stood up straight, removing her hands from the sink and using them to push the hair out of her face. She took another deep breath.

“You can do this Lilith...”

She picked up an ovaline object with a plastic handle and winced as she brought it up to her head, and, she brushed.

For a millisecond before the brush gave up on it’s life and got caught in Lilith’s matted hair.

After yelping in pain she growled and slammed her fists on the sides of the sink in anger, causing various objects to fall off the basin and onto the tile floor.

And that my friends, was the fifth hair product that had gotten stuck in her hair after attempting to get the matted knots out.

Lilith was just about to give up and go to sleep when she heard the tiny pitter patter of mouse feet in the hallway, and the tiny groggy voice of one human girl.

“Lilith?”

Lilith’s head shot over towards the doorway to find a half asleep Luz draped in a blanket with her eyes half lidded.

“Oh! Human! What are you doing awake? it’s almost 11 and-” Lilith paused mid sentence and sighed, looking back into the mirror and her reflection. “Who am I kidding I’m not your mother...”

“What are-” Luz yawned. “You doing up?” She asked, rubbing her eye with the hand not holding the blanket.

“Oh, um me? Just-” Lilith took yet another deep breath. “Trying to brush my hair...” She tugged on one of the combs caught in it. “Of course it isn’t going how it usually does since I haven’t brushed it in-”

Luz gasped dramatically, cutting off Lilith and getting a sudden burst of energy. She dropped the blanket, pressing her hands to her face, her eyes practically popped out of her head.

Lilith eyed the girl for a few seconds before she spoke up again. “I can help you-”

“NO- No! I do not need your help! I can deal with this in the morning. By myself.” Lilith crossed her arms, and squinted at the human before her.

Luz’s demeanor practically deflated, she hunched over with a frown on her face, looking up at Lilith. “But-”

She held a hand up and silenced the human, refusing to look at her.

Luz turned on her heel and was about to pick up her blanket and walk out the bathroom doorway when she looked back at Lilith.

“Fine then, don’t let me help you.”

“Thank you-”

“I’ll just tell Eda that you refused to let me go out of my way to do something nice for you even after you TRIED TO KILL ME. I’m sure she would ‘like’ that...” Luz turned around and smirked, this time she was the one crossing her arms.

Lilith was practically dumbfounded. She stood there like a petrified statue for a few seconds before she hunched over and groaned. “You really are Eda’s kid..” She whispered.

She thought for a few seconds before sighing in defeat. “Fine, you can help me. But I doubt it’ll do anything but-” Lilith couldn’t finish her sentence for Luz had already run up to her and began dragging Lilith to her bedroom.

Before Lilith could comprehend what was happening, she was sat on the floor of Luz’s private bathroom, the girl pulling up a stool behind Lilith so she could easily brush her hair.

Luz sat down on the stool and grabbed some of Lilith’s hair in her hand, inspecting it a bit before she began to get the stuck combs and brushes out of Lilith’s hair.

With somewhat mild pain to Lilith Luz managed to get all 5 hair brushing instruments out of Lilith’s hair. She picked up one of them and began to carefully, (trying not to hurt her), brush Lilith’s hair.

After quite a few moments of painfully awkward silence, (in Lilith’s opinion), the adult reluctantly spoke up. “Why are.. you doing this?” She asked, her voice laced with caution.

“Because I want to help you!” Luz exclaimed cheerfully, gliding the brush through Lilith’s hair and pulling on a large knot, causing Lilith to hiss in pain. “Sorry!”

Lilith quickly regained her composure. “I mean, I noticed that but.. Why? I, witchnapped Eda, tried to kill you, I-” The witch paused, staring at the floor. “I did a lot of bad things.. What I’m trying is say is.. Why are you being nice to me of all people??”

Luz continued to brush the witch’s hair, trying her best to get out some of the smaller knots without hurting her. “I mean, you did do all that, stuff... And more..” Luz added at the end. “But, you’re trying to be better. And... I like better people!”

Lilith let out a sort of jagged breath. “Thank you human..”

Luz smiled down at the witch. “You’re very welcome Lilith!”

They stayed silent for a few quiet minutes. The only sound being the brushing of Lilith’s hair as Luz continued to try and get the knots out.

Lilith broke the silence. “Since we’re gonna be here a while.. I don’t suppose you’d like me to tell you a few stor-”

“OH WOULD I!?!??!”

Lilith chuckled at the girl’s enthusiasm. “Okay then.”

So, she told.

She told Luz, about her experiences at The Emperor’s Coven, she told Luz how she met Kikimora, she told Luz how her red roots were growing in, and how she didn’t have any more hair dye to change it back.

She told her how she usually had magic detangling spray to get the knots out, she told her how Eda almost destroyed Hexside multiple times, she told her things. Happy things.

Before she was cut off.

“I remember this one time Kiki-”

“Done!”

Lilith was startled, the most she’d gotten out of Luz during this entire time was a simple hum or quick question. Her shouting was a complete change of pace.

The witch almost completely forgot the purpose of her being in Luz’s room in the first place.

Luz grabbed a silver hand mirror and held it in front of Lilith’s face so that she could see her reflection.

Lilith’s hair was completely brushed and de knotted, a feat that she herself couldn’t even do, with magic!

Lilith admired the handiwork and touched her now braided, detangled hair. Sure the red roots were an eyesore, sure the grey streak drew attention to them. She didn’t really care at that moment in time.

Lilith began to get up from off the floor but Luz gasping stopped her in her tracks. “WAIT! I almost forgot one thing!” She exclaimed, running out of the bathroom, taking the hand mirror with her

Lilith heard the clatter of something in the room and winced. Luz rushed back in with a notepad and pencil, setting the mirror on the bathroom counter.

Lilith craned her neck to look at Luz and saw her furiously drawing a glyph on the paper, she couldn’t tell which kind of glyph though.

Luz practically threw the pencil down on the counter and tapped the glyph, a flower Lilith had never seen before grew from it.

She ripped the head of the flower from the stem, careful to not damage the petals in the process, and shoved the flower in Lilith’s hair.

Lilith blinked and was slightly startled when she found the hand mirror was in front of her face again, Luz again holding it.

Luz handed the mirror off to Lilith and the witch stared at her reflection once more, specifically the peculiar looking flower in her hair.

“Human,” She began, “What is this?” She pointed to the flower, poking one of the petals in the process.

“A flower.”

Lilith scoffed. “I knew that, I mean, what kind? I’ve never seen it before in my life..”

“Oooohhhh.... It’s a lily! Y’know, a lily for Lily!” Luz said happily, now sitting infront of Lily, the only thing separating them being the hand mirror.

“They named a flower after me?”

Luz stared blankly at her for a few seconds, blinking a few times before she spoke. “Yep. Sure did.”

Lilith hummed in response, continuing to stare at her reflection. She looked up from the mirror to see Luz smiling brightly at her.

She couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thank you hu-”

“Luz, thank you, Luz.”

“You’re welcome Lily.”

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

As You Wish

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: You and Bucky have been on rocky ground after a big fight caused by his overbearing nature. During a late Halloween party, you remind him just where he gets to be in control.

Warnings: SMUT, seriously. 18+ y’all.

A/N: EVERYONE SAY IT WITH ME:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @wonderlandmind4​!!!! 🎉

When my boo asked for Bucky smut for her birthday I was determined to give her just that. So what follows is a birthday gift (she’s already read) that you all get to enjoy too.

Tags are open!

The elevator slows its descent at Natasha and Hill’s floor as you readjust your red dress.

“Uh, you two know this is a costume party right?” You ask as the doors slide closed. 

“Yeah?” Hill raises an eyebrow. 

“And you two are…” You study their sleek black outfits. “Yourselves?” 

Natasha rolls her eyes looking at Hill, “See, I told you.”

She brushes her off, “We’re Charlie’s Angels.” 

“Where’s the third angel?” They exchange a smirk, as the elevator slows once more. 

“Right here,” Natasha says. 

The doors slide open to reveal Thor looking better than he had a right to in a skin-tight black outfit of his own, Farah Faucet hair, go-go boots and all. Your jaw hits the floor. 

“My Angels!” He bellows with a laugh. 

“We watched all the movies a few weeks ago,” Hill explains. 

“Honestly,” you take the three of them in, “I’m impressed.”

“Thank you,” Thor says, laying an arm around his companions. 

“What are you?” Natasha twirls one of your long blonde waves around her finger. 

“Princess Buttercup,” you shrug.

“Sure you’re not going for more of a Jessica Rabbit vibe?” Hill gestures to your ample cleavage. 

You laugh, “Couldn’t waste these magic titties in some high neck ensemble. That would be a shame.” The off the shoulder neckline was the only liberty you took—the rest of the look from the lace front wig to the sleeves to the belt was exact. 

“Indeed,” Thor comments with a smirk. 

“So who’s your Wesley?” Natasha narrows her eyes at you. All you give her is a sidelong glance. “Ah. Are you two-”

“I’ll answer that if he shows up in costume tonight.” The three others nod in agreement. 

It wasn’t that the two of you had broken up—you’d just, embarrassingly, had it out during your last mission… in front of everyone. 

Bucky meant well, you knew that, but he was so was overbearing at times. You could handle yourself, you didn’t need him hovering, taking issue with every mission, every decision, every single thing that may be the least bit dangerous. 

After that, you both decided some space was best—well, you’d decided would be a more accurate statement. Since you all got back almost a week ago, you’d been staying in one of the guest suites rather than the apartment you’d been sharing with him for more than a year. It wasn’t easy, sleep had been hard to come by and when you’d inevitably ran into one another for work it was more than a little tense.

When the elevator stops next you hold your breath a bit. Hanging back you gesture for the Angles to go first to make their grand entrance. They’re met with whoops and cheers, Thor happily posturing in the classic Angel pose. You can’t help but smile despite the anxiety tightening in your gut.

Stepping out you look around the room, hoping to see him somewhere but you come up empty. Your stomach drops to your knees, though it shouldn’t. He’d been pretty against dressing up for the party when it was actually going to be on Halloween. Now-

“Happy Halloween, your highness!” Tony saunters up to your left.

“It’s November 26th, Tony,” you say dryly, Thanksgiving was days away but here you all were. Slowly, you take in his perfect replica of Cap’s cheesy 1940’s threads. “He’s gonna kill you.” 

Tony laughs, “Nah, that wouldn’t be very captainly of him. Besides, mockery is the best form of flattery,” he winks and you roll your eyes. 

He throws a friendly arm around your shoulders, “And just because we had to save the world on Halloween doesn’t mean we don’t get to celebrate like everyone else.” Raising a hand in the air he summons a drone in bat regalia sporting two drinks on a tray. 

“Drink,” he passes you the smoking green concoction. You look like you need it.” 

You nod, conceding his point, “Cheers, to being just like everyone else.” 

“Cheers,” Tony smirks and you both take huge gulps of your drinks. 

“Try to have a good time tonight,” he says, his tone no longer light. “You deserve it.”

“Thanks, Tony,” you give him a wide smile before he bounds off to harass someone else. 

Steve showed up not long after you in a damn good zombie getup, apparently having done the makeup himself. While Sam, saying Halloween wasn’t just for women to get sexy, opted for a boxer look—shirtless, oiled up, in a robe, the works. 

When Clint showed in nothing but a black trash bag and crocs you were more than a little confused. Once he clarified that he was white trash you spent a solid five minutes laughing. 

Wanda had taken the witch thing to another level with her Wicked Witch of The West costume. She did the green skin and even kept a couple of flying monkey plushes floating behind her the whole time. 

After your third drink, you stop eyeballing the elevator expectantly and allow yourself to just enjoy the evening. 

Honestly, it’s not hard. Everyone needed a breather after their last mission—three brutal weeks had left you all ragged inside and out—and what better way to forget about it than dancing, drinking, and costumes. 

On the dance floor, Wanda lifts you up in red glowing energy, spinning you, causing your skirt to flow out. Thor wraps his hands around your waist as you float down only to spin you around some more. The booze and the movement make you feel light and airy. You laugh and laugh, head back, joy buzzing through your whole body.

Back on the ground, still giggling, you rest your spinning head on Farah Faucets broad, godly chest, waiting for your body to register that it wasn’t twirling any more. A voice to your right brings gravity back in an instant, however. 

“Mind if I cut in,” Bucky’s velvet tone sending the smallest thrill through you. Thor says nothing, just looks down at you raising an eyebrow. 

When you nod slightly he releases you, “If it’s what the lady wants.” He steps back to join his fellow Angels and you stare at the Dread Pirate Roberts himself. 

The corner of Bucky’s mouth ticks up just a bit, “You look amazing.”

“I know,” you quip back earning you a full smile. 

“Can a dastardly pirate treat a P\princess to a drink?”

“A princess has already had several,” you step close enough to him to catch a whiff of his clean, slightly spicy, scent. Hooking your fingers into the front of his pants you pull him closer, “But she’d love a dance.”

He rests a hand on the small of your back, “I think I can manage that.” 

The warmth of him so close makes you ache in every way. Despite your frustration, you missed him desperately. Missed his smell, his touch, his voice. 

Turning in his embrace, you press your back against his chest. Your hips sway to the steady beat of the music, the feeling of his fingers holding your hips back against him make you long for more. 

His breath brushes against your neck as his lips settle by your ear, “I’m sorry.” You stop dancing and look over your shoulder at him, sincerity clear in his blue eyes despite being shadowed by the dim lights and his mask. 

Bucky’s fingers trace your jaw for an instant before your lips meet. It’s a tentative kiss, neither of you sure how to approach this just yet. 

“I’m sorry,” he says once more, breaking the kiss. 

The dance floor, hell the whole room, suddenly feels overcrowded. Wordlessly you tug him toward the elevator, wanting him alone. He doesn’t resist, following half a step behind you. 

When the doors close you feel a moment of hesitation. Maybe you’re a little too drunk and still a bit too angry with him to do this. But when F.R.I.D.A.Y. asks where to there isn’t a moment of hesitation. 

“Guest floor,” you respond. Bucky’s brows knit, clearly having expected you to want to go home. You weren’t sure of a lot at this second but you knew that you’d rather be on neutral ground. 

As the elevator climbs up you reach for his left hand. Even after all this time, he tries to pull back a little, not trusting himself or it near you. Your grip remains firm though as you pull it up, studying the silver knuckles. Flipping it over you place a kiss on his palm your eyes locking to his. 

He opens his mouth to say something but you stop him, pressing a finger against his soft lips, just as the doors slide open. Whatever doubt you had a moment ago is gone. 

In the apartment, you push his large nonresistant frame in front of you. Hand-pressed flat on his chest you guide him backward into the living room. For a moment you stand silently, just taking him in. Reaching up you pull the mask off, he wore a mask for too long after all. 

Years of undercover work taught you how to move in a gown. A moment after you remove the mask you sweep his feet from under him. He goes to right himself from a kneeling position but you grab his jaw first, forcing him to look up at you. 

A familiar spark glints in those enchanting eyes of his, replacing the earlier touch of regret you saw. 

“Don’t be sorry,” your thumb wanders over to touch his bottom lip. “There’s a place for you to take control, to make the decisions.” You rip the black bandanna from his head, burying your fingers in that thick dark hair, holding tight, “It’s just not out there.” He smirks, leaning his head back a bit despite your grip. 

“Remember that and you won’t need to apologize again.” 

“So,” he purrs, rising to his feet, “You want me to take control, your highness?” You release his hair and he slowly backs you into a wall, waiting for your response. 

“Yes,” you breathe out. 

Bucky’s hands cup your face, kissing you firmly but fleetingly. His eyes bore into yours as his fingers, warm and deliciously cool, run down your neck, trace your collar bones, and grip your shoulders. 

“As you wish,” he grins before he spins you around, strong hands pressing your chest into the wall. 

The long blond hair of your wig sways against your back with the sudden movement. His fingers lightly trace the swoop of skin at your back, left exposed by the off-the-shoulder neckline, and gather the thick locks, twisting them and laying them over your shoulder. Lips press against the base of your neck, teeth playfully sink into your tender flesh. 

“You make a cute blonde,” he says into the shell of your ear. 

Pressing close, he reaches around your front to untie the belt at your waist, letting it fall to the floor. When his hands grip the neck of your dress, ripping it down the back you can’t hold back the gasp. It joins the belt in a pool of red fabric by your feet. 

He unhooks your strapless bra, tossing it to the side. Taking each of your full breasts in his hands he catches the tips of your hard nipples between his middle finger and thumb. The light touch quickly turning firm. 

You whimper, pain and pleasure mingling. Your head falls back onto his shoulder sending the gold tresses swaying

“Hmm, you like that,” he hums against your temple. Bucky lifts the weight of your breasts by the tender points trapped between his fingers before releasing them, causing them to bounce and sway. 

Just as the sensation of being trapped in his tight grip fades he latches onto the tender pebbled flesh once more. This time he doesn’t let go, rolling and squeezing, teasing your nipples and breasts until you can hardly stand. 

He steps back abruptly leaving you swaying, breath ragged. You’re about to turn to him when he’s behind you once more. 

“Stay there,” he steadies you with his warm right hand. 

His hands come around your face, holding the black bandanna you’d tossed aside earlier. Gently he ties it around your eyes, making the world go dark. You don’t protest but your body stiffens just a bit. 

Ever tuned into your every reaction his lips press to your cheek, “Trust me.”

“I do.” You mean this with everything you are. 

With steady hands, he guides you back to what your knowledge of the space and the slight lingering scent of your perfume tell you is the bedroom. He releases you and you remain planted, waiting, though maybe not patiently. 

There’s the sound of zippers, boots being flung away, the rustle of fabric. Involuntarily your tongue wets your bottom lip, anticipating, craving, the salty taste of his skin. 

But then there’s just silence. There’s no indication of his warmth near you, nothing. Without anything to orient you in the blackness, your heart begins to race. 

“Goddamn,” he breathes in a reverential tone from behind you. The suddenness makes you jump a bit.

“Bucky,” your body pivots toward him wanting to gain your bearings. 

“Ah, ah,” his chide is accompanied by the light flick of a plastic rapier across your ass, the sting barely dulled by the fabric of your lacy high waisted lingerie. 

Cool metal fingers trace your cheekbone, “You said you wanted me to take control.”

“Yes,” his thumb hovers over your cupids bow before parting your lips. 

The metal slips between your teeth, you flick your tongue across the tip. Your hand rises to grip his forearm, sliding down to his wrist, holding his hand in place, reveling in the way his breath catches. 

He slips his thumb from your mouth, fingers gripping your chin, “Then let me,” he growls so close to your lips you can feel the damp heat of his breath. 

All you can manage is a nod, your voice choked off by the desire flooding your body. 

“On your knees,” he says before releasing you. 

Doing as he says you lower yourself to the thick carpet. A finger tilts your chin up so that the moist, quivering tip of his cock just barely brushes against your hungry mouth. Without hesitation your tongue flits out to catch the precum you know is there, longing to taste him. 

He lets you take your time, tracing the outline of his head with your tongue, enjoying the way he twitches each time you pull back. When his left hand gently cups the back of your head to guide you you’re eager to take him in. 

As they have countless times before your hands rise to grip the irresistible muscles of his thighs. You jump back in surprise, his cock slipping from between your lips when the rapier pops against the back of your hand. 

“No hands, just this perfect mouth of yours,” his metal index finger sliding in for just a moment as if to prove a point before he replaces it with his cock. 

You take him down until he hits the back of your throat, loving the size of him. His hand at the back of your head doesn’t demand, merely guides as you use your mouth to draw shudders and sighs from him. 

When he begins to thrust against you, your lips curl despite their preoccupation, thinking he’s going to come. Instead, he pushes deep, causing you to gag a bit, and holds your head still. He pulses for a moment but doesn’t come, pulling out with a slick sound. 

Suddenly soft light floods your eyes causing you to squint as Bucky’s face comes into focus, eyes blown out with lust. Warm fingers wipe at the moisture around your mouth, “So beautiful,” you can feel a slight blush heat your cheeks. 

He smiles, his fingers running from your chin to your throat. They wrap around your neck, pushing you down with firm but gentle pressure until you’re on your back looking up at him. 

“And mine,” he growls, fingers squeezing just a touch.  

It's not a question but you answer it anyway with a whisper, “All yours Bucky. Only yours.” 

There’s nothing tentative or unsure in the way your lips meet now. With his right hand still on your throat, your mouth opens to him, letting him taste the desire, the longing. You catch his bottom lip in your teeth and a rumble shakes his solid form above you. 

Cool fingers press against the dampness between your legs. A little moan slips between your kiss as your hips thrust up, demanding more. 

Your lingerie may have been expensive, quality stuff, but it never stood a chance against a super soldier. Bucky merely flexes his fingers and your underwear is reduced to nothing but decoration hanging from your hips.  

He doesn’t give you time to protest. 

Smooth metal slides over your folds. How something so hard could be so sensual always threw you. His fingers tease you, never landing where you desperately want them. 

“Bucky,” you whimper, “please. Please,” your hips buck up desperate. He just chuckles, pressing your body tighter to the floor with his weight, covering your mouth with his until you’re about to come undone. 

When his thumb finally gently caresses your swollen clit your body practically convulses. Bucky rests his other arm by your head his fingers stroking your forehead. 

“How quickly do you think I can make you come?” That mischievous smile makes his eyes sparkle. His middle and index finger slide inside of you. The only answer you’re able to give is a low groan of pleasure. 

He curves his fingers, pressing against you at just the right spot, and you cry out. If he kept that shit up he’d have you over the edge in minutes. 

“You know, you’re so pretty when you come,” he whispers over your lips, staring into your eyes. He catches your next cry with a kiss. “Do you wanna come for me?” 

You’ve forgotten how to speak, all you can manage is a weak nod. 

“That’s not a yes.” He picks up his pace just a bit, your body begins to tremble. “I asked if you wanted to come for me. Do you, baby doll?”

“Yes,” you say with a gasp, your back arching up. 

“Yes, what?”

A small noise slips from you before you stutter, “I-I wa—nt to—to. Oh, fuck!” You pant as he pins you with his stare, “I wanna come for you. Please, Bucky. Please, I-” You cut yourself off as a low moan bursts from you. 

“Not yet,” he responds as his fingers keep working their magic, pushing you closer and closer to losing control entirely. 

“Bu—Bucky, baby, I, I can’t…” Your fragile control slips with each ragged breath. 

He smiles softly, tongue wetting his lips, before he finally says it, “Come for me, Y/N.” 

Your body tenses, and releases sending you spiraling. For a moment there’s nothing but the electric pleasure flooding your system, you’re floating—or maybe it’s just that Bucky has gathered your trembling, limp, body in his arms. 

There’s no resistance from you as you let him lay you on the soft bed. His mouth latches onto one breast and then the other, tongue and teeth drawing more soft moans from you. 

Every reaction makes his hips rut against your thigh, the hard length of his cock enticing. Your fingers tangle in his hair, causing the minty smell of his shampoo to rise into your nostrils, and you pull his head from your breast to look at you. 

“I want you in me. Now.” 

He chuckles darkly, “Thought I was calling the shots.”

You flush, “You are but-” He presses a muscular thigh against your dripping cunt, your body immediately pressing into it, yearning for more. 

“As you wish,” he says with a wink. You laugh as he flips you over, pulling your ass into the air. 

His warm right-hand crashes into your ass cheek stinging in the best way. You toss the curtain of blonde hair from your face, wanting to look at him. 

Without a word his left-hand slides down your spine, pressing between your shoulder blades to force your chest and head against the bed, bringing your ass higher up. He squeezes the slightly burning flesh hard before he slides his cock into you. 

Despite his earlier efforts you still cry out as your walls stretch tight around the size of him. His own low groan makes you shiver with delight and push back harder against him, wanting all of him now. 

Gripping your hips with a force that would no doubt leave a few marks later he fucks you with abandon, long since learning that you could take what he had to give. 

An orgasm rocks you but he doesn’t stop, forcing another before his left-hand grips your throat and pulls you up against his chest. 

“You feel so good, baby,” his teeth graze your earlobe and you gasp, reaching back to grab his immovable thigh for support. “So good.” 

His right-hand slides down your torso, fingers caressing your clit. You mean to say words but they come out as nothing but unintelligible sounds of ecstasy. 

“Y/N,” Bucky sighs into the curve of your neck as he thrusts deeper into you, your walls tightening. “That’s my girl. Let me feel it.” 

His fingers on your neck tighten on your arteries, his fingers on your clit continue to dance, drawing out more soft sounds. He groans and your nails dig into his thighs, you can feel his body tense behind you. 

With a hard thrust, your body shakes almost violently, your orgasm silent but intense as his own comes with a roar, his cock pulsing inside of you. 

He moves his hands from your throat to your chest, holding your shaking body tight. 

His cock, still hard, pushes deeper into you, “I’m not done yet, sweetheart.”

“Good,” you croon, leaning back to kiss his, for once, stubble-free jawline. 

Bucky pulls out of you, hands coaxing you onto your back. He sits on his heels, cock damp and twitching as he takes you in with a look you aren’t sure you’ve ever seen him wear. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, your tone concerned as you sit up on your elbows against the nest of pillows. 

His face brightens with that eye crinkling smile that made you fall in love with him. 

“How could anything be wrong, my love? I have you.” He tenderly pushes a few strands of hair from your face. 

Your eyes burn a bit with tears of joy as you settle back into the pillows holding your arms out to him. He takes the invitation without hesitation, settling over you and seating himself deep inside you. 

“You will always have me,” you whisper into the shell of his ear. He shifts to look into your eyes. “I love you, Bucky.”

Another blinding smile graces your vision before his lips find yours. 

Pressed tight together, your legs wrapped around his hips, you speak only in touch and trembling sighs until you both cry out once more. 

Later, tangled in each other’s arms Bucky presses a kiss to the crown of your head, pulling you from the edge of sleep. 

“Thank you for giving me another chance,” he whispers. 

You smile, “Of course.”

“I love you, baby.” 

Snuggling tighter against him you drift into a deep, peaceful sleep. 

Tags:

@mywinterwolf​ @disagreetoagree​ @breezy1415​ @peachthatdrinkslemonade​ @wonderlandmind4​ @stevehesaidabadlanguageword​ @buckysstar​ @for-the-love-of-the-fandom​ @siriuslycloudy2​ @wildmoonflower​ @cutie1365​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @handplucked​ @jewelofwinter​ @whiskeywinter89​

[discotreque]

Picard 1.10: Et in Arcadia Ego, Part 2

I don't really do predictions or theories when I'm watching something. Partly because I prefer to go along for the ride while it's happening and wait to judge with the benefit of hindsight, but mainly because I'm very bad at it.

Anyway, let's discuss Episode 10 of Picard, in which a bunch of things happen that I would have sworn up and down were never going to happen, and a bunch of things I thought would for sure happen did not.

Spoilers for the season finale:

I think I feel about Picard S1 the same way I feel about Discovery so far: I like every single thing about it more than the writing. The casting is great, the actors are pretty much all superb, I'm horny as hell for the production design, the VFX are the best I've ever seen on television, I absolutely love Jeff Russo's music...

...and the scripts are, you know, fine. Mostly fine. Moments of excellence, no doubt, especially at the level of individual lines and scenes, but overall? New TV Trek has yet to pull off a complete season-story that really impressed me. (I have reasons for extremely high hopes re: Disco S3, but I will save them for another post.)

With all of that said: I didn't come here for the writing. I wanted to spend time with my old friend Jean-Luc Picard at the end of the 24th century, and I got it. The rest is gravy. Not, like, the awesome gravy my sister makes at Thanksgiving; decent B+ restaurant gravy. I'm still gonna dip my fries in it.

"To say you have no choice is a failure of imagination." The first great Picard line of the episode, but not the last.

Blah blah Romulan incest siblings blah blah blah. They couldn't have mentioned sooner that Narek was the family fuck-up or whatever? He would have been like 6% less boring.

Raffi and Rios constantly, lovingly dunking on each other is one of my favourite dynamics on this show.

Okay I was just joking last week about Saga's whole brain being in her eyeball but the fact that the damage to her eye fucked up her memories...

Why are they sitting outside the ship having a campfire? Isn't the ship basically fine? Why not hang out inside?

"The Thousand Days of Pain" is the name of my metal band.

Agnes using Saga's ripped-out eye to bypass the scanner had big Minority Report energy. Thank god she didn't have to chase it down a ramp while it rolled away from her.

"The way that children learn most things: by example."

RSVP Sutra, the only interestingly-written villain in this entire season. Tamlyn Tomita is super duper watchable as Commodore Oh/General Nedar (and looking fiiiine in that black uniform), but she has no personality or motivation beyond "grr, robots bad." Sutra lives in a society that's mostly twins, but her twin sister was fucking murdered. Obviously I don't agree with her actions, but I understood and cared about her motivations, which is more than I can say for any of the Romulans.

All those exterior shots of La Sirena wobbling through space with Picard at the helm were adorable.

We literally never see Narek again after the androids take him away. I hope they just threw him in a dumpster. Bye bitch.

Seven didn't do a ton of hand-to-hand combat on VOY, and she sure didn't fight like this. Jeri Ryan moves like she's heavy, like her bones are made of metal, like she's still full of dense Borg technology. She practically lumbers around, using her limbs like clubs; Peyton List bounces off her like she's hitting a solid steel wall. It's excellent choreography and so well executed by both women (and presumably their stunt doubles).

GET FUCKED, RIZZO. You were barely interesting enough to hate, but I did hate you.

"'The Picard Maneuver.' Wait, that's actually a thing, isn't it?" Ell oh ell.

Loved the way the Romulan ships' disruptors sizzled and crackled when they were powering up.

What was wrong with Planetary Sterilization Patterns 1 through 4?

That motherfucking fanfare when the Starfleet ships came in. Awwww yeah.

ACTING CAPTAIN WILL RIKER. Still kinda wish it had been Worf on the Entrepreneur, though, because I'm greedy: we already saw Riker!

I do have my problems with the writing, but I loved the way they resolved the three-way standoff between the Romulans, Starfleet, and the ch'khalagu: not with an epic space battle, but with diplomacy and self-sacrifice and trust in the essential goodness of each other. (Plus, I guess, the threat of an epic space battle.) It was so perfectly TNG in so many ways.

All the Riker stuff was so fan-servicey. Which I'm mostly fine with: I'm a fan, after all, and I like to be serviced from time to time. But it felt a little like one slice too many of chocolate cake.

I wish the tips of the tentacles had got cut off when the portal closed. That would have been cooler, right?

What can I say about watching Jean-Luc Picard die. He's been my captain for 30 years. I physically fucking felt it. And making an android copy of him, while awesome, did not really diminish the emotional impact.

On a lighter note, I need to know what Jeri and Santiago were actually drinking in that scene, because it straight-up looked like soap. Yuck.

I also really like the dynamic between Rios and Seven. They both act a little harder than they are, and I think they see through each other's acts, but there's enough mutual respect (and self-interest) there to let each other get away with it. And no romantic tension whatsoever. Delightful.

I want to hug all of them so much :(

The blank grey surface of everything in the simulation was very creepy.

Oh Data. Oh, Data. My heart was already aching and then...

Listen. Like a fucking idiot, I went and saw Nemesis on opening night. I don't even remember what I was expecting, but I do remember walking out of the theatre with my friend and agreeing never to speak of it again. Data died, but the movie was so shitty I could barely feel anything about it. This episode gave me the emotional closure I've been waiting for since December 13, 2002.

It's also, if you think about it, a pretty hilarious "fuck you" to Nemesis in general: "You guys did such a bad job of killing Data we had to bring him back to life just so we could kill him properly."

They've been slightly aging-up Patrick Stewart all season. I stopped noticing it after a while, so seeing him without it at the end was quite a shock.

"You... you haven't made me immortal?!" "Relax, man. Everyone was paying attention." Okay, Altan can stay.

Speaking of ol’ A.I., can't he just make another golem for himself? Was there something unique about the one they put Picard in?

I thought I recognized the voice of the woman singing "Blue Skies" on my first watch, but I couldn't place her. Turns out that was Isa Briones herself, which meant I cried even harder the second time through.

"And our little life is rounded with a sleep." Goodbye, Data.

Seven and Raffi???????

SEVEN AND RAFFI?????????????

And once again, Jeff Russo ends the season with a mash-up of the old theme and the new one. Give my man another Emmy! Give him two!

God damn. What a ride. Let me climb into my clown shoes for one last shitty prediction. I think next season is going to be what I wanted from this season: Picard and his motley crew of rogues bopping around the galaxy having roguish adventures. Fingers crossed!

And thanks for reading. Star Trek is always more fun with friends.

[danurso]

Yandere

Sun: hey blake, whats up?

Blake: *unamused* hey sun.

Sun: so, i was thinking and, are you busy tonight?

Blake: sorry sun, but im not interested.

Neptune: oof, told you.

Sun: come on, just give me a shot, i promise you won't regret.

Blake: im not interested sun, just leave me alone okay.

Sun: but why?

Blake: because. . . *freezes*

Jaune: *walking with yang clinging on his arm*

Yang: c'mon ladykiller, i know its gonna be fun.

Jaune: i-im not sure about it.

Yang: come ooon, stop being such a party pooper.

Jaune: i don't know. . .

Blake: *with a murderous look* what does that blonde bimbo bitch think she's doing with my darling?

Jaune: sorry yang, b-but there's something i need to do now. *breaks free and walks up to sun* hey blake, hey sun, s-so ready for our video game tournament?

Blake: hey jaune *internally* oh my god, each day that passes he gets more and more handsome. . .i can't wait to claim him for myself.

Sun: what tou-

Jaune: *whispering* just go with the flow please.

Sun: err, right, the tournament, totally forgot about that.

Jaune: let's go already, i already set everything up.

Sun: sure let's go *gets dragged away*

Yang: *pouts* right when he was about to accept.

Blake: accept what? *internally* yeah, tell me so i know if i'll either cut your throat or poison your coffee.

Yang: oh, i got the entrances for a show on vale, and i thought he would be interested.

Blake: but why jaune? *internally* because he's kind, sweet, handsome and everything a girl needs.

Yang: well. . .i might be developing a crush on him, "might" being the key word.

Blake: *with a small smile* well, thats great. *internally* now i know that i might crush every single bone of your body later.

Yang: i'm not sure yet so i thought that going out on a date with him could help me clear things up.

Blake: wanna head back to our dorm? We can talk about that better if we're alone.

Yang: sure, thanks partner, you're the best. *walking towards their dorm*

Blake: don't mention it. *holding gambol shroud behind her and with a sinister smile* it will be my pleasure.

---

*knock-knock*

Blake: *opens door* oh, hello jaune.

Jaune: hey blake.

Blake: do you need anything?

Jaune: yeah, well. . .i was going to take these books back to the library *pats his backpack* and i remembered that i needed to settle some things with yang, is she in there?

Blake: no, she isn't *internally* and she will never be again.

Jaune: oh, right. Err, can you please tell her that. . .is that blood on the ground?

Blake: *looks back at the blood marks on the ground* i-i don't know what you're talking about.

Jaune: im talking about the blood on the ground and. . .isn't that your weapon? Why is it covered in blood? A-and why is there an arm poking out of the bed.

Blake: *looking back at her bloodied weapon on the floor and yang's arm poking from under her bed* err. . .i can explain.

Jaune: *taking a step back* a-actually, i just remembered that i need to do something and-

Blake: *grabs his arm and pulls him inside the room*

Jaune: b-blake?

Blake: *sigh* i was trying to make things go smoother between us jaune, i really was. . .but you don't give me other choice.

Jaune: l-look blake, i don't know what's going on, b-but i really need to go now. *tries to run away but gets pushed on the bed*

Blake: *with a sinister smile* but you can't go yet darling, not after i made up my mind.

Jaune: y-you made your mind? A-about what?

Blake: i love you darling, ever since the first time i saw you. *gets on the bed, slowly crawling on his direction* you're all i could think about ever since the first day, all i ever wanted, and all i care about, and i wouldn't let anyone stand in my way if that meant having you all for myself.

Jaune: s-so that means. . .yang. . .?

Blake: she always a nuisance, she never cared about you, and joked about you, but all of sudden she said she was interested in you? That brainless bimbo didn't had the right to even think about having my darling. *getting even closer*

Jaune: *tearing up* and so you killed her?

Blake: of course darling, in what other way i would deal with that pest? if she stood in our way, our love would never bloom, but now that she's out, you're all mine. *licks her lips*

Jaune: *with tears rolling down his cheeks* . . .

Blake: aww, don't worry darling *wiping his tears* i'll make sure to that you'll be the happiest man on earth, there is no need to be sa-

Jaune: *pulls blake into a kind blowing kiss*

Blake: *melts instantly*

Jaune: *breaking the kiss* i'm not crying because i'm sad, i couldn't be happier.

Blake: really?

Jaune: of course. blake, i love you, i love you ever since the day we met. just like you thought about me, i also thought about you, all my thoughts and dreams were filled with you. 

Blake: *tearing up* then why? Why didn't confessed sooner darling? You're the only man i love and that i have interest in, but i still had to deal with annoyances like sun because of it.

Jaune: don't worry about that anymore my love *opens his backpack to reveal sun's head* he will never bother you again.

Blake: oh jaune. *covers her mouth with her hands while tears roll down her cheeks* 

Jaune: im sorry. . . i was afraid, afraid that you wouldn't accept me for what i am, that you wouldn't accept my love. . .thats why i tried to run away, i couldn't handle all these emotions i was feeling. . .and i thought you wouldn't correspond to them.

Blake: *pulls him into another kiss* of course i would darling.

Jaune: that makes me incredibly happy my love, i've been storing this feeling for so long, but now i can finally say how much i love you.

Blake: me too darling, it's great to be finally honest about my feelings, and about how much i love you as well.

Jaune: but i still love you more.

Blake: no, i love you more.

Jaune: i love you much more.

Blake: i love you way much more.

Jaune: i love you so much, that i want to rip out the eyeballs of the guys who look at you.

Blake: i love you so much, that i want to stab any girl who tries to get close to you.

Jaune: i love you so much, that i will burn alive any guy who dares to hit on you.

Blake: i love you so much, that i would drown in a pool of acid any girl who tries to touch you.

Jaune/Blake: i love you so much, that i would painfully murder every single guy/girl on this academy just to be with you my love/darling.

Jaune: *tearing up* i love you blake.

Blake: *crying* i love you too jaune. *kisses him*

Jaune/Blake: *starts making out again*

Ghost yang: are they really gonna do it on the bed over my dead body!?

Ghost sun: and with my decapitated head watching!?

Ghost adam: at least you two still have bodies that can be buried.

Ghost pyrrha: *nods*

Ghost yang: wait, you're dead too!?

Ghost adam: came after blake and that jaune guy managed to knock me out and cut me down to little pieces he used to feed the sharks at the vale docks.

Ghost pyrrha: when i finally worked up my courage to ask jaune out blake found me and offered some tea, the tea had some poison that made me sleep so she could take my body to the emerald forest and use it to feed the grimms.

Ghost yang: . . .thats some really dark shit.

Ghost sun: yeah. . .

Ghost yang: . . .

Ghost sun: . . .wanna haunt someone?

Ghost yang: of course! let's go! *flies away*

Ghost pyrrha: do you. . .wanna join them?

Ghost adam: well. . .

Blake: OHHH JAUNE!!!! YES!!! YEESSS!!! HARDER!!!!~

Jaune: BLAKE!!! BLAKE!!! BLAKEEE!!!

Ghost adam: *sighs* sure, it's better than keep watching this. *flies away*

Ghost pyrrha: okay~ *flies away as well*

(What? You thought that just because the titlte was yandere, there was going to be only one yandere? Hehehe, not today pal)

[bamon4bamily]

TVD 9x06 (part 1) Enjoy! =)

Cut to – freaky old mansion, Darius’s room. A portal closes; we see Bonnie laying on Darius’s bed, in a deep sleep, Danae still holding her hand.

 DARIUS: Hello, sister.

DANAE: (Looking terrified) Darius…

DARIUS: Don’t look so frightened, Lish, I’m the one looking at a ghost. God, it’s crazy seeing you in the flesh… (he tries to touch her, she quickly steps aside in a panic).

DARIUS: Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you. You made me a promise (looks at Bonnie) and you kept it.

DANAE: I did, now let me go.

DARIUS: I’m sorry, sis, but I can’t do that.

DANAE: We had a deal…

DARIUS: And I will keep my word. I said I wouldn’t hurt you, and I won’t, pinky swear. But I’m sure you can understand why I can’t let you go; can’t have any loose ends…

DANAE: You bastard!

DARIUS: (Sarcastic laugh) I think we both know who the bastard is; mother was always such a flirt.

DANAE: Please, just let me go. I followed your instructions; I swear I’ll keep my mouth shut and disappear.

DARIUS: (Changing the subject) You know, it truly baffles me that you would think I wasn’t aware that you have been alive for all these years… Come on, Lish, I thought you were smarter than that… Do you really think all that tragedy came from karma? Granted it must’ve had a hand in it, but… really? You couldn’t figure it out? Guess the genius genes do come from my father’s side…

DANAE: You’ve known all this time?

DARIUS: Of course, I have. The only reason you are still alive is not because of your flawed immortality serum, which I’ve perfected, by the way, but because I’ve allowed you to… What can I say, I’m a sucker for family drama.

DANAE: You are insane…

DARIUS: We all go a little mad sometimes… (with sarcasm) Yet, I wasn’t the one locked up in an Asylum for years.

DANAE: It was you...  You were the one that got me locked up…

DARIUS: Oh no, you did that all on your own; I only suggested the pertinent treatments.

DANAE: (In painful wrath) They put a needle through my eyeball, you crazy fuck!

DARIUS: Trial and error, sis, that’s the only way to verify a theory… just ask your “friend” Marie… Oh wait, you can’t…

DANAE: (Charges him) I’ll kill you!!!!  

DARIUS: (Restrains her with his hands; Bonnie starts to move) Shhhhh… you are waking her up. It’s time for you to take a time out; I’ll take it from here. (Some freaky hooded people come in and take Danae away, Darius sits by the bedside, holds Bonnie’s hand).

DANAE: (As she is being taken away) She is going to destroy you, and I’m going to enjoy every minute of it!

DARIUS: (To the hooded people) Put her in the bunker.

Cut back to – The Mikaelson mansion, 12:05 am. It’s pitch dark. Everyone is passed out on the floor; after a few seconds, they start to react.

 DAMON: (Confused) What the hell happened?

ALARIC: I have no idea, but… (before he can even finish his sentence, Damon vamps upstairs to check on Bonnie; she and Danae have vanished… Damon, desperately, vamps his way through every inch of the mansion looking for her, she’s nowhere to be found).

KLAUS: (Also searching) Damon, we have searched everywhere, they are gone.

DAMON: How? We were all by the door, there is no way…

KLAUS: Cloaking spell, who knows? You seem to forget how magic works, my friend, anything is possible. Now, let’s go get the others. (They regather with the group downstairs, Klaus lights some candles so that everyone can have some visibility).  

ALARIC: What is going on?!

KLAUS: Bonnie and Danae are gone.

ALARIC: What!? How?

KLAUS: Enough with the how; we need to focus on the where and why.

TYLER: Uhm, guys, I think we have another problem (points to Katherine who is in a catatonic state, they try to snap her out of it, but she is unresponsive, completely lost in a daze).

LEXI: Can’t believe this is happening! I thought we had the perfect plan...

ALARIC: They must have figured it out, orchestrated some sort of stealth attack…

RADKA: All I remember was waiting by the door to attack upon arrival, then I saw an overwhelming light and blacked out.

KHUYANA: Me too…

ALARIC: I think we all did.

DAMON: Enough with the chit chat; we need to find Bonnie.

ALARIC: And we will, Damon, but we have to figure out what we are dealing with first.

DAMON: What is there to figure out, Ric? We know what we are dealing with; a lunatic mind-freak asshole, and his cult groupies. So, let’s skip the over rationalization, and get to the action. Plan is simple, find these bastards, kill these bastards, get Bonnie back.

KLAUS: I agree with Damon, for once.

CAROLINE: Me too.

ALARIC: I would like nothing more, but we don’t even know where these cult freaks are!

KHUYANA: I have a feeling someone might… Matt.

KLAUS: Well, love, that’s not very helpful given that your husband was a no show.

TYLER: My bet is that he’s at the Mayor house; Matt told me he was hosting a Halloween ball; and, for some fucked reason, Matt always seems to be wherever he is.

DAMON: So, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!

CAROLINE: I’m game, but first we need to stop by the house and make sure everyone is okay. And leave this one (referring to Katherine) to someone’s care.

DAMON: We can’t waste any time, Care. Klaus, Tyler and I will go find Matt, you guys go back to the house. Once we find Donovan, we’ll drag his sneaky ass back and figure out our next move.

CAROLINE: Okay, just please, don’t do anything without us.

KLAUS: We won’t, love, I’ll make sure of it.

DAMON: Whatever; (to Klaus and Tyler) wolf-boys, let’s move.

 Everyone leaves; as they are driving, they stare in disbelief at the scenery; the entire town seems to be having a total blackout; not a single light at sight.

Cut to – freaky old mansion. Darius takes Bonnie into a private section of the mansion. It’s a strange ballroom, set up as a worship haven, reminiscing of Stanley Kubrick’s “Eyes Wide Shut” scene…

DARIUS: My queen… behold your kingdom. (He takes her by the hand and leads her to the center of the altar, inside a Hecate symbol. All the guests, wearing hooded togas and masks, kneel upon her).

DARIUS: At last, the goddess has arrived! (They start chanting in her worship).

BONNIE: (Whispers to Darius) Darling, this is a bit much, don’t you think?

DARIUS: Nothing is too much when it comes to you. Bonnie Sheila Bennett, you are a goddess, you just need to believe it. You can do anything you set your mind to, no restrictions, no consequences. You are the alpha and the omega…

BONNIE: No restrictions... that does sound tempting…

DARIUS: Just let yourself be free, my love, embrace your destiny...

Bonnie, seduced by the feeling of absolute power, lets go of the last hold she has over who she is and embraces her power to the fullest. A huge energy field emerges from her, the biggest one yet...At this precise moment, a new Bonnie is born, a child of fire and desire, a purely instinctual creature with the power to create… and destroy.

Cut to- freaky bunker. Matt, sitting outside the heavily sealed door, which is now open. He is crying.

MATT: (To himself) What have I done… what have I done…

MILITARY MAN: General…

MATT: Don’t call me that! I’m not a General! I am the Sheriff of Mystic Falls, that is all…I don’t belong here...

MILITARY MAN: I’ll give you some space, Sir. (Walks away, approaches another military man) I think the General has lost his mind…

MILITARY MAN 2: Cut him some slack, he’s under a lot of stress. How would you react if that order had to come from you? That has to break a man...

MILITARY MAN: Do you think we are doing the right thing, here?

MILITARY MAN 2: Not sure if it’s the right thing but it’s the only thing we can do if we want to have a fighting chance.

Cut to – The Salvatore mansion. Stefan, Elena, and Sam are in the living room. The gang walks in. Caroline sees Stefan and runs to hug him.

CAROLINE: Oh, thank god, you are alright! The girls?

STEFAN: They are sleeping, they fine; we are all fine, it’s just a blackout.

CAROLINE: Oh, trust me, it’s much more than that.

ELENA: (To Caroline, looking quite pissed) Uhm, hello?!

CAROLINE: Elena! Oh my god, you are here! I totally forgot to…

ELENA: Oh, I know! Stefan put me up to do date…  what the hell, Care!?

CAROLINE: I’m sorry, we thought you didn’t want to be involved in these things anymore. (To Sam) Hey, Sam…

SAM: Hey… (looking quite uncomfortable, given the situation).

ELENA: Where is Bonnie?

CAROLINE: We don’t know, something went wrong…

STEFAN: What happened?

CAROLINE: As soon as the clock stroke midnight, there was this huge light blast, then everyone passed out. When we woke up, Bonnie and Danae were gone.

STEFAN: Where is Damon?

CAROLINE: He went with Klaus and Tyler to look for Matt; we think he might know where Darius is.

STEFAN: (Looking at a catatonic Katherine) And what happened to her?

RADKA: We don’t know either… she won’t snap out it; she is physically fine, but…

CAROLINE: She’ll be okay, she is just in shock. (To Alaric) Let’s go check on the girls…

ALARIC: They are asleep, Care, we don’t want to wake them.

CAROLINE: We won’t; just as kiss so they know we are fine. (They go upstairs).

ELENA: Lexi, glad to see you made it back…

LEXI: (With a bit of disdain; still resentful for how she hurt Stefan) Well it was all thanks to my girl Bonnie… now that’s what I call I real woman.

STEFAN: So, Lex, can you tell us exactly what happened?

LEXI: I’ll try my best…

Cut to – The Mayor’s mansion. Damon, Klaus, and Tyler arrive.

 DAMON: How come this is the only place that has electricity?

TYLER: Privileges of the elite…

KLAUS: Please, Lockwood, if that were the case, there be electricity at my house as well. (Tyler rolls his eyes; they ring the doorbell).

ANTHONY: Fashionably late, I see. Invitations, please.

DAMON: One vampire and two hybrids, how is that for an invitation?

ANTHONY: I’m afraid I don’t follow your sense of humor, Sir. So, once again, invitations, please.

KLAUS: What he means is that if you don’t invite us in, we will rip your insides out… how is that for a sense of humor?

ANTHONY: Gentlemen, I don’t want any trouble, but I cannot allow you inside without an invitation.

EDWARD: (Edward comes to the door, sensing something is up) Anthony, what is going on?

ANTHONY: Sir, I…

TYLER: Wow, you really went all out with your costume…

DAMON: (To himself) I freakin hate clowns…

EDWARD: What is the trouble here?

KLAUS: We are looking for Matt Donovan, we were told he might be around…

EDWARD: Well, you have been misinformed, the Sheriff is not here. Granted he was invited, but he declined. Feel free to come inside and see for yourselves.

ANTHONY: Sir…

EDWARD: It’ fine, Anthony. Come in; you are also welcome to indulge if you like.

Cut to back to – the old freaky mansion. Darius and Bonnie inside his illusion realm.

BONNIE: That kiss made me thrust, care to offer this lady a drink?

DARIUS: I would be delighted (holds her hand and takes her to the bar).

DARIUS: (To the bartender) Champagne for the lady.

BARTENDER: Coming right up, Sir.

BONNIE: Actually, I’m bourbon kinda a gal. (Mocking) I thought you knew me better...

DARIUS: Sorry, love, I assumed…

BONNIE: Well, you know what they say about assuming (winks, Darius looks confused). Just teasing, dear. (Gives him a peck on the cheek, then looks around). This is quite the party…

DARIUS: It’s all for you, my love.

BONNIE: You spoil me too much.

DARIUS: Anything for you…

BONNIE: You are making blush…

DARIUS: I love to see you blush.

BONNIE: Careful. I might not be able to control myself.

DARIUS: Neither will I…

(They kiss passionately, find themselves a private spot, and...)

Cut back to – the Mayor’s mansion. Damon, Tyler, and Klaus are looking for Matt.

 TYLER: (Looking at the decadence) Damn, and here I thought I had seen it all… These people are freaking insane…

DAMON: Concentrate, Lockwood! (Getting frustrated) Where the hell is Donovan!?

KLAUS: I think the clown was telling the truth...

EDWARD: (Who has snuck up on them) I told you...

DAMON: (Jumps in a fright) Jesus, holly shit hole!  

EDWARD: I take it you don’t like clowns (smirks)? I’m sorry, gentlemen, but he is not here. And, now that I know he wasn’t with you either, I think I just might know where, or rather, who he is with. As much as it hurts that he would betray my trust, I’m almost certain that he is with a man called Darius.  

KLAUS: You know Darius?

EDWARD: Unfortunately, I do. Has been the stone in my shoe for quite some time now.

DAMON: Where can we find him?

EDWARD: At a freaky old mansion… thing is, it’s not easy to find.

TYLER: What do you mean?

EDWARD: Well, it seems to appear and disappear; making it quite difficult to track.

DAMON: I’ve seen that trick before, we just need the location; we’ll figure it out from there. 

EDWARD: You make it sound so simple. You are aware of who you are dealing with, correct? Darius is the master of illusion, capable of making you believe whatever he wants…

DAMON: (Getting pissed off) Can you tell us the location, or not!?

EDWARD: Temper, temper… Listen, Damon, is it? All I can tell you is that the last time I was able to locate the mansion it was at this address (shows them a location on his phone).

TYLER: That’s impossible; that’s where Matt’s old house is.

EDWARD: Well, that´s uncanny...

DAMON: (To Klaus and Tyler) Let’s go...

EDWARD: If you are thinking that the trick is a cloaking spell, I can assure it’s not. Like I said, Darius is an illusionist, the only way to see through his illusions is to find a loophole; and trust me, that is not an easy thing to do; especially if you don’t have the proper abilities. So, unless one of you is a psychic-witch, it’s pretty much useless.

DAMON: How were you able to find him before?

EDWARD: With a little help from my friends (points to a mystery lady, and a strange man).

KLAUS: (Completely taken with her) She is breathtaking... (stares in intrigue) seems so familiar...

EDWARD: Does she, now?

TYLER: What’s with the freaky glove?

EDWARD: Let’s just say, she has quite a peculiar taste.

DAMON: Can she help us find Darius?

EDWARD: She can, but I must warn you, with her, there is always a price to pay.

DAMON: I really don’t care, as long as she can lead us to Bonnie.

EDWARD: Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Come with me. (They approach the mystery lady) My dear, I’d like to introduce you to some friends of mine... 

LADY: Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, gentleman.

TVD 9x06 (part 2) coming soon! Hope you stop by, read and enjoy! =) 

[comfortmarvelimagines]

When You Can’t Find the Quiet pt2

yoyoyo sorry this took a lot longer than i said it would, i rewrote it three times and it STILL sucks but uh here ya go i tried

“Fuckfuck Mr Stark I-I think they’re dead! Ohmygodohmygod,” Peter crouched down, moving to shake you back to consciousness.

“No, Pete, they’re fine. Don’t touch them. The complete removal of stimulation when I activated the blackout protocol probably gave their brain permission to turn off… Or something like that. I’m not a doctor.”

“They’re probably exhausted.”

“Yeah, well, then, that too. Problem now is getting them and your mask out of the school with minimal pain to them and no harm to your identity.” Peter could hear footsteps in the background of the call. Tony was pacing, thinking.

“What if I just… Put them on one of the projector trolleys! There should be lab coats in here somewhere, what if I covered them with that so that no one sees? It’ll be like one of those super cool spy movies!”

“You know, for someone so smart you really are dumb sometimes. You are not smuggling them out of the school like a corpse, the last thing May needs is a call to the police station because you’ve been arrested on suspicion for murder.” There was a pause, neither of them knowing what to say. Needing to feel like he was somehow helping you, Peter bent down and gently pulled your hand from your mouth, now that you were no longer biting on it. It was still bleeding.

“I, uh, we need a band-aid in here.”

“That’s what you’re concerned about right now? Look, do you know anyone you can call, a parent, that can take them home?”

“Uh, no. Last time Ned called their mom when they were gettin’ really anxious and kinda stimmy during an assembly she… She kinda didn’t care? Like, she didn’t come and pick them up or anything, and y/n said it wasn’t too pretty when she got home… And I thought about going to the nurse earlier, to see if there was someone else, but come to think of it I don’t know who you could call. They don’t have anyone else, really.”

“Okay. Okay. So you need me to come and get you…” Peter swore he could make out the clinks of a suit piecing itself to Tony. “When’s the next class end?”

“Ummmm,” Peter pulled the phone from his ear, tapping the screen, “Three minutes.”

“Sweet. I think the only way you’re gonna get them out of there is if you take the mask off. Reckon you can get them to the front office in like, 90 seconds before hell breaks loose?”

He didn’t finish the sentence before spiderboy was out the door, phone in pocket, you in his arms.

***

The phasing out of unconsciousness was, sometimes, the worst part. It was like becoming aware of everything that hurt more and more acutely until it was almost overwhelming again, but not actually being able to do anything. The need to get out never went away. It was just paused for a second. Occasionally, you were lucky, and the pain wasn’t quite there before you managed to fall asleep properly, but today was not one of those days. Your head felt like someone had repeatedly dropped a brick on it. Nausea came over you in waves. As you became increasingly more aware of your body, other things began to trickle in; the muted sounds of kids yelling in the corridor, the hum of the lights (which, incidentally, were enough to make your eyes burn even through your eyelids), the click of a keyboard, adults talking- no, arguing, the smell of disinfectant and GOD these sheets were so BAD…

As much as you felt like dramatically waking up with a gasp and flinging of cheap blankets, like in the movies, the most you could manage was a half-hearted groan and weak attempts to pull as much blanket as possible over your head. The tapping sound next to you stopped.

“Mr Stark!”

You knew immediately that it was Peter. As much as you could tell he was trying to be quiet, his whisper-screaming wasn’t really cutting it. Another groan left your throat, this time completely involuntary. Footsteps. A click. Your eyeballs weren’t on fire anymore, thankfully. Still no way in hell were you about to open them. More footsteps, heavier this time.

“Hey there, kiddo, nice to meet you. Obviously not nice circumstances. Pete and I are gonna get you out of here, okay, but it’s probably gonna hurt a bit before we can fix it. Alright?” The voice hesitated, as if waiting for your consent.  “Oookay then. Here’s what we’re gonna do. Pete’s gonna help you sit up. Then we’re gonna get you out to the car. Pete said to try to touch you as little as possible, so do you think you can walk on your own?” You thought for a second. Your legs felt like jelly, but you didn’t want anyone anywhere near you. Even though it was splittingly painful, you managed a slight nod.

Peter’s voice sounded, closer to your head. “On three, I’m gonna hold your shoulders and pull you up, ‘kay? Ready one, two, three.”

Sure, you knew it wasn’t going to feel wonderful, but that didn’t make it any less stomach-churning. Dizziness took over and you overbalanced to your left, face-planting into something… Soft? Nice. Good feeling. You hummed in contentment.

Peter sounded like he was trying to muffle a laugh. “Oh my god, Mr Stark, they like your shirt. Good luck getting them off now!” He was still whispering, but it was enough for you to realise what you were burying your face in. Did you care enough to sit back up? Absolutely not. Apparently Peter had moved on, because he went on to ask if he could take the shitty school blanket off your head and replace it with his hoodie, so that the light outside would at least have some sort of filter. You answered by humming again, so he took it as permission. Better. Smelt like Peter. No longer wanted to rip the skin off the back of your neck. Somehow, the good fabrics helped to cancel out the other Bad things. The nausea wasn’t quite as all-consuming anymore.

Cool hands met yours. You recognised them- Peter. Another countdown, and you were pulled to your feet. It didn’t quite feel like you were attached to the lower half of your body, somehow suspended but tethered at the same time. Slowly regaining feeling in your feet, you shuffled forwards. “Good to go, kiddo?”

If inside the nurse’s office was tolerable, than the outside was a burning pit of hellfire. The disorientation from not being able to see from the jumper over your head was panic-inducing, but when you pulled it aside everything was too much. Flick right wrist, flick left. Click your fingers, twice. Repeat. The light on the ceiling, flickering. Like the one from the train. Make it stop. You felt like your head was imploding, starting from right behind your eyes. Get out. Need. To. Get. Out.

Peter was near you, saying your name, but it merged into everything else. Not knowing what else to do, he pressed his fingers to your shoulder blade to trigger you into moving forwards. He knew he shouldn’t touch you, but what choice did he have? Your eyes were glassing over and the only way to make it stop was to help you get out, seeing as you weren’t quite there enough to do it yourself. Rather than the jump that he was expecting, you followed the pressure; for whatever reason, it seemed to ground you a little. Tony was close, to your left. You didn’t realise how you’d gotten to where you were, but all of a sudden the fingers on your spine were pushing down and it was cool. Dark. Not completely, but worlds better than before. Now that you were sitting and it didn’t feel like you were spinning, out of control, it felt safe to pull Peter’s jumper back over your face. It wasn’t quite a blanket, but combined with your hoodie it was better than nothing.

“Hey, y/n, I’m so sorry about… Everything. I know today has sucked but you’re doing so well,” Peter’s voice dripped with guilt. You swayed to your left, nudging him in thanks. You sat in comfortable silence for a minute, until the door to your right opened and Tony sat down.

“Everyone doin’ okay?”

“Shhh! You can’t be loud yet.” Peter knew the drill. No loud noises until you said so.  

“I, uh, got a band-aid.” Much quieter this time.

“Give it here and I’ll put it on their finger.”

They both leaned across you, making you into some sort of human sandwich. But the pressure was nice, secure. Despite what Peter would tease you about later, the disgruntled noise of protest you made when they moved off was NOT deliberate.

“Do they like deep pressure?”

“Ask them, not me. They can answer. Also, where did you learn about DPT?”

“Pete, I know people, read things. You may think I’m old but I know how to use the internet.” You felt the older man sit back in his seat, no longer talking over you. “Y/n?”

“Hmm.”

“Did you want us to sit closer to you again?”

“Hmmmm.”

“That was a ‘hm’ of approval,” Peter clarified as he shifted closer.

“What are you, some sort of y/n translator?” Just as he said that, the car started moving. Feeling you tense, Peter pushed further into you and you gave easily, falling into Tony’s side.

You’d forgotten how soft the fabric was.

It was less than a minute before you were out cold, in a much more pleasant way this time.

***

You absolutely hated how groggy you were after a sensory overload. Some Bad Brain days were manageable- far from comfortable, but enough for you to get to where you had to be and crash when you got home to try and sleep it off. When it got as bad as it had that morning, it felt like all the energy had just leaked out of you. It was strange. Even on the okay, the good days, you never really sat still. Peter noticed it too, that for once you weren’t even happy stimming or calm stimming, just humming.

The transition from the car to the inside of the compound was considerably less stressful than the one from the office. You were okay to hold Peter’s hand and tap with the tips of your fingers as he followed Tony into the elevator, up and down a hallway. When he let go for a second, to hold the elevator doors for you to get out, trepidation for the unknown in an unfamiliar environment began to set in. Without consciously meaning to, your hands started twisting each other, pulling, until the bones rubbed; an anxious stim. “Hey, y/n, is your tangle in your bag?” 

You shook your head.

“In your pocket?” 

Same response. 

“Uh, Mr Stark, do you have like… I guess you don’t know what a tangle is… Like, something they can stim with, with both hands?” Peter had softly taken your hands in his, loose enough for your fingers to flick and tap independently without hurting yourself. He’d seen how you used to come to school with bruises up to your wrists from stimming like that, and it was MJ that had produced a tangle from behind her book one day. Since then, they had easily become your favourite stim toy, your friends always making sure you had one in your bag, your locker and your desk at home, as well as spare ones on them just in case. Of course, it just so happened that now you had none.   

“Hang on a sec, we’ve got a bunch of stuff in here,” Tony opened a door to reveal a completely dark room. Illuminated by the sliver of light seeping from the outside, he opened a drawer from a storage chest built into the wall to show an array of tangles, tactile fabrics, chewelry, just about anything small you could possibly stim with. You felt the grip on your wrists release as Peter grabbed a bumpy tangle- the best kind- and handed it over to you before shutting the door.  

“FRIDAY, turn on the sensory room lights.” An entire wall of bubble lights lit up in response. They gradually changed colour, but you were too excited by the pile of blankets by the adjacent wall. As you sat down on the padded floor and began pulling one over your head, Peter found his voice again. 

“Dude… Where did you get all this?”

“I’m Tony Stark, I can get anything I want,” he paused. “But seriously, after Germany I did some research into sensory difficulties. I figured that if you were ever struggling with the whole ‘dialled to eleven’ thing, some of this might be useful. Obviously, you haven’t needed it but turns out it’s not such a bad thing to have.” 

As you soon discovered, the blankets were weighted, and between that and the calm lights and the tangle in your hands the sound of their conversation didn’t make you want to scream. You started rocking from side to side, legs crossed. The foggy heaviness was still there, but the good stims were starting to make you feel safer, more okay, more yourself since your brain wasn’t perpetually in flight-or-flight mode. Peter came over and sat down next to you and you threw yourself onto him in a hug. 

“Squeeze?”

You nodded in response. Somehow, he made it out under the now three blankets over your head and wrapped his arms around you. Peter was safe. Tony, standing awkwardly to the side and watching, was safe now too. Sometimes the world and your brain just weren’t quite compatible, but with friends like yours and people that got it, you knew it’d be okay. 

tags: @inumorph @autistic-patti @crystallstaircase @rebel-by-default 

[finderskeepersff]

48. Part 3

Watching the sun come up as I sat in the car outside my home, I need to sleep. I would go to the hotel but it is too damn late, I can’t be doing that so I am staying here to sleep but I have been busy actually. To find out that Clover Club is opening up in Miami, I am happy about that. I am happy for Amira because without her this shit wouldn’t be going so smooth, she puts in work while I pay of course but it is working out for the best. I am seeing so much money, like money is openly in a bank account. It is in Kyle’ joint account and I wish I could put Sofia on it but if anything goes wrong we are all going down and I don’t want Sofia to go down, Amira knows it can happen but I don’t see anything going wrong. They all think Raphael is clean cut, he is the biggest fucking asshole going, I don’t know how he is alive at all with all of the drugs he has. I am thankful to be clean, a blessing actually “so are you happy with my work? I work hard for you Cassius, how calm has shit been?” Ethan is impressive “it’s good, I don’t need to worry but there is always worry you know? I want you to release that footage of Samuel killing the Latino boss, I want him gone off my radar ok? I am done with it. I need to have no loose ends got it? I have been thinking hard on it and he is too close to my business, he is plotting and I know it. I want us to have a strong base like it’s happening now. We can all work together in this world, I didn’t think Raphael was right but the rich and famous do pay well. Clover be making that fucking money, people don’t suspect which is odd. But yeah, do that. I will be spending time with my son today. I don’t want to be contacted ok? I want to be somewhat normal, I don’t want people following me. I am going to have nothing on me besides my phone and some money. I got Wheezy but I just want a normal outing, probably risky but I will take it. I don’t know anymore. I have tried to amend a lot of loose ends, everyone is eating remember that so that is why it is quiet” I pointed at him “that is why you are like by the people and not the power hungry government, you should be president” I laughed, it was funny “my corrupt ass, I see it like if everyone is eating then why would you be upset? But there will always be one but anyways. I have a big day, let me get some kind of sleep” dapping Ethan.

Holding my Nets top in my hand that Sofia bought me, I got a few hours sleep. It’s afternoon so let me go down and get some food, hopefully my momma will make me something. Walking down the steps, Sofia did text me she said don’t forget today donor. She is so bitter, it’s actually sexy that she is mad. Like baby continue to be mad. Rubbing my bare chest, I am proud of me. Like I don’t need anyone to be proud of me but I am of myself because I got myself out of it. It was because of the love I had for Sofia but I had to do it and I did it, I can only thank god for the strength “hey Cass, I thought you was here” Jasmine said “yeah, I am. You good?” I asked her, seeing another girl in the living room, she just stared at me all wide eyed “I am, your room door was closed so I assumed so. Is Cartier here?” shaking my head “he is in New York. Come to the game, Sofia bought me a suite. There is like a few spots free, you know” Jasmine gasped “can I really?” nodding my head “yeah, mom is coming. Sofia may come, I hope anyways. But I just want a family thing” Jasmine yelped out “I am coming! I am getting my Nets top out, I can’t wait!!” looking down at Bryce, he actually ran at me this time. Grabbing my legs “girl, I am going!!” Jasmine said “your brother is so sexy, you seen his body” looking down at Bryce “we friends now?” crouching down to him “uncle was being mean and he is sorry” I think he has forgiven me.

My mom held out the Net jersey “so you and Cartier got one?” nodding my head “I think it was nice that she paid out for it. I mean I can take you and Josiah and now Jasmine while dad looks after this one, I don’t know how you like dude” I said to Bryce, he just smiled at me “they have a close bond, weird enough” my mom placed my jersey on the back of the dining chair “I guess he can be a nice guy to someone” my mom touched my arm “I am so happy to see my son like this. Last time you entered this house you set out on a road I didn’t think you wanted to come back from, I look at you and I see my son. Healthy, happy, positive boy. And I do thank Sofia but I thought she lost that touch with you, we all did but look at you. All happy” I smiled “thank you. I am happy and excited for today. I think I want my son to know you all, I want that. I didn’t think Sofia would ever want to come here but she did and I know it was for me, she has no reason to come here. She says Leyton but she can book him a flight. It means so much to me, like I am happy” she did it for me.

I laughed in the mirror “stop it” I said staring at Cartier through the mirror, who said it was easy. Cartier kept crying when I laid him on the bed so I have him on my lap while I do my make-up with one hand, well the things I can do anyways. Cartier is just staring at me through the mirror, he is so intrigued “you making me laugh” I laughed, Cartier gurgled something “mommy crazy huh, mommy putting this make up on looking crazy because I can’t do the the left side of my eye so I do” looking down at him, he didn’t move his head to look at me at all. I feel he is growing so quick to me, everyday it’s like he learns something new and different. He is being a little whiny baby today, just wants me to hold him, I guess I have to be thankful for the fact he slept well, he didn’t randomly cry like he would. I wish I bought the rocker now, I sighed out. A knock at the hotel room door, placing my mascara back in the tube and getting up with Cartier “let’s see who that is” hopefully Mia so they can look after him for me. I didn’t bring the rocker with me like an idiot, Mia and Mitch are coming to the game. I did decide on going, Mia said he asked so go. Olivia is working so she can’t go. Looking through the peephole “it is Auntie!” I yelped, pulling open the door “hey girl!!” Mia opened her arms “don’t look at my face, this boy won’t let me look good” Mia hugged me “I can tell, wow. Which face are you doing?” Mitch pointed at one side of my face being rude as fuck “thanks” I rolled my eyes.

Mia looked over at Mitch playing with Cartier “you ever want one?” I asked her “so I can have my pussy ripped open? No thank you, we will take yours” Mia looked at me chuckling “I can’t, like right now I am ok. I will babysit yours, I think Mitch does. He said he loves seeing pictures of Cartier, he was like have you seen Cassius with Cartier and all of the cute posts I am like yes, just keep looking. Maybe some day but anyways, we looking fire today? Yes?” I shrugged “I mean I may have a little something” I grinned “that is my girl, we show skin. We show bomb pussy, we show out today. You have Cartier on your damn hip too, we come to show out. Also I will look after Cartier as we discussed” she pointed at me, I paused “erm, no need too. I said no” Mia blinked at me several times “we did that three way call, just let him be a dick appointment for now. What is wrong with that? Spend time with him, do it. Don’t put no title on it, strictly dickly. You know” taking in a deep breath “you said you been feeling it? Come on?” nodding my head “there has been moments” I admitted “well today I am hyping you up, you will get some dick tonight. You both going to end up hugging and loving on each other anyways so I don’t need to do shit anyways” Mia waved me off “that is true, in the club you both was off. Like from what I remember you both was playing tonsil tennis” Mitch said “see, so we need this confident and hyped up bitch. The bitch that slept with him in the club. You better get him to eat you out, it’s your time!” Mia eyeballed me, trying to not laugh “we got you today, Cartier will be with us. We good uncle and auntie here. You’re scared to get your feelings hurt, I know Sofia. But keep that to the side, things will fall into place. Dick appointments give the best dick. Me and Mitch were that at first, it was good” Mia always knows what to say.

Thinking to myself, maybe I should wear more. What is wrong with me, why am I being sheepish, maybe I need some booze to give me that push, that little courage but I do know I can do this, I am just being a scaredy bitch. I look good, I think I do anyways. Sighing out as I fixed my hair in the mirror “I am ready anyways” I said to myself, right down to the heels “come out, I want to see!” Mia shouted outside the bathroom door, I need to get out now. I have taken my time “ready?” I said I walked towards the door “yes hoe, hope you are being a hoe” unlocking the door as I pulled it back “surprise” I giggled, Mia’ mouth opened up wide. I am not sure if that is a good or bad thing “wow Sofia, talk about bouncing back from pregnancy, wow!” Mitch said, my cheeks are warming up “you look so good, oh my god” Mia said looking me up and down “the legs! Bitch, the legs!” Mia spat, can she stop “he will like it, and so will all the other men in that place. I mean that is making a statement” I chuckled “I mean it’s simple but you look so good” Mia said, I shrugged “I was like if I was to go I would wear this” just simple booty shorts and a sweartshirt Cassius left at the house, it’s simple as shit but apparently I look good “if you bend forward, your booty come out? Do it so I can check” Mia said, I shook my head laughing because I won’t be doing that.

I love to see Leyton, to spend time with him is nice “Sofia your legs will be get cold outside” Leyton pointed out “what you trying to say to me?” I asked him “aww he trying to play daddy” Mia cooed out “well I think you should cover up, but I am here. I will beat them for you but it’s still cold out there” he is funny “sure, but I rather not. Mia do I really look good, I don’t look fat do I?” Imagine that “me? You think I would let you walk around looking fat? Girl, no. You look so good, I fancy you. I would do you” hiding my face laughing, Leyton looked at Mia in disgust “that is weird but I think you should cover your legs, they fat” Leyton is trying to be mean “men like it fat, they call it thick” I grinned at him “I will tell Cassius, he will tell you not too” I scoffed “is Cassius my father? Leyton please, I ain’t about to change out of shit, Mia has hyped me up and I am staying at this level now. Get off the bed, I need to change Cartier” he should be here soon, let me change Cartier so he can match his dad.

I am glad Cartier is asleep now so he will be more alert during the outing, I hope he doesn’t play up but if he does I am there “you still using those breasts?” Mia asked “yes, I swap over now. He takes the formula, finally. So I give him both, he prefers breast though. It doesn’t bother me actually, also my breasts are bigger, I like it” I shrugged “when I see you and Cartier I do want to be a mother but I don’t want to rent my womb, my pussy being stretched, I can’t. So the milk you giving for when I look after him, is that formula” nodding my head “yes, thank you for offering. It may not happen though” she is jumping “oh it will, he is going to want you so fucking bad. You look so good, you’re hair is down. He better devour you” Mia is something else “look who we found on the way back!” Mitch said, rolling my eyes at Mia “your make-up is bomb, the red lipstick is everything!” looking away from Mia seeing Mitch walk into the room “we found Cassius, he was coming here” I knew it, I knew it would be him “where is the boy? It’s game day!” Cassius spat “he is here, asleep” I pointed at the bed, Cassius licked his lips and kept his tongue out staring at me, and then dragged his eyes down. He stepped to the side because the bed cuts off his eye-view, his mouth opened as he tilted his head “seriously? Do you want to be less obvious” what is wrong with him “you wearing panties under that?” I just smiled walking off “woah, woah, woah. Oh my god. You can’t do this, that is not real. Mia you did this, bring that ass back here” he is so embarrassing.

Cassius clasped his hands together and placed his hands just above his lips facing me in the elevator, he took in a deep breath and then closed his eyes and breathed out “you about to get me back on drugs” he is so dramatic “I am fighting niggas today, this is not good. I will be put off the game” he is stressing “whatever” the elevator doors opened, Cassius balled his fist up and bit his knuckle “you are being dramatic, anyways the receptionist will be here” pushing the stroller out of the elevator “oh wow Sofia, hi” Wheezy said “hi Wheezy” making my way to the doors “that is mine, it’s mine” hearing Cassius say behind me “you need to claim that” the doorman opened the door for me, he smiled at me “Leyton, don’t walk stupid. I will forget about you, is auntie picking you up after?” Leyton shrugged “I ain’t a kid, I can do what I like” frowning at him “what I say about that shit, you are my responsibility. You don’t do that” Leyton acting like a brat “I can get back myself Sofia” side eyeing him, he better fix his little attitude.

I am already impressed, VIP entry and it’s not busy as shit “so good to see you again Sofia” walking over to Monique “and you” hugging her, catching Josiah rubbing his chin as he looked away “fuck me girl, you look so good! You had a baby!? You sure! Oh my god!” Jasmine jumped at me “we need to go shopping again, you look so good” I chuckled “thank you, you look good too. Just thought I am feeling myself, why not. It’s nice that you all came though” it’s nice to see them “it’s a nice gift, and to have Cartier here. A family” smiling at her, hearing Cartier crying. Turning around, Cassius must have done something to upset him “hold my bag for me” I said to Mia, walking over to Cassius “did you do something?” I asked him, making my baby cry “come here, it’s only your ugly father” placing him over my shoulder “wow, now I am ugly. Why you being mean to me?” rubbing Cartier’ back “get his bag thank you” walking around him.

Pressing a kiss to Cartier’ cheek, I think it was because he just woke up “you ok now?” pulling his top down “you need to be a nice to daddy, it’s his day with you” his grumpy self, walking towards Cassius in the suite. I want to eat so he can look after him “he will be ok now” I said to him “you want me son, it’s me. We twins. We rocking the same thing boy, come here. Let me love you” Cassius took Cartier from me “it’s me boy” pulling the back of Cartier’ top down “can you take a picture of me and Cartier” Cassius turned around “my phone is in the back pocket” lifting Cassius jersey up a little and getting his phone out “where do you want it?” Cassius walked off near the suite window where you see the game “Cartier! Hey!” I shouted, that boy won’t look at me “Catier, hey handsome boy” he smiled at Monique “my grandbaby, you’re here with daddy. Is you and daddy looking the same” he is loving Monique, taking the picture “I got it, you smiled” I said to Cassius “I thought of your legs that is why” he laughed “it’s y’all day, have a picture. The both of you” Mia said, she is right. I can take one “take it on his phone, he can send it me after” I said to Mia, holding the phone out to her “ok” walking towards Cassius “come to daddy” he said to me, standing at the side of him but leaving a gap “why you playing?” his free arm wrapped around my shoulder and pulled me in “you look good though, on a real” looking up at him “thank you, you look good yourself” I said back to him, feeling his thumb lightly stroke the side of my face “face me then!” Mia spat, lifting my hand up and gripping his hand around mine to stop him from trying to ruin my make-up.

Basketball is boring as shit, I don’t know what is happening “drink up my love” Mia held up a glass “it’s whiskey, down it” taking the glass from her “it’s nice to see Leyton and Cassius getting on, he is getting on with all of the boys” downing the whiskey “he is, Leyton does like him. See how he said I will tell Cassius, boy bye” watching Cassius with Cartier, he is really enjoying himself “I think I made a good decision, I wanted him to do things with Cartier. Like this, I like that Cassius is happy. Father and son” smiling at them both “I can drink to that, I can get used to this. The drinks are bomb and the food, I ain’t here for the game at all” frowning at the fact Mia is getting drunk “listen here, I think I will let Monique look after Cartier ok?” I can let her have him like this “oh yes, oh my god I forgot” I will only tell Monique if anything happens and we do go out, looking down at my phone. Smiing at the picture of Cassius and I with Cartier, it’s a nice ass picture and I look good. I love it actually “cute family there” sliding across “this is family, just Olivia, Kenton and Lee missing” seeing the group picture “and I like that too” she said, I grinned at it.

I knew at one point Cartier would sleep, walking out of the suite. I need the toilet, refresh my make up too “wait up” looking behind me “for what?” I said smiling “me?” Cassius grinned “you need the toilet too?” he shrugged “I just want to see you and” Cassius looked behind me “your booty” he laughed “and also say thank you, it’s been so good. It’s the small things, like this. A basketball game with your son, I like it. I have had so much fun, he fell asleep but then I have everyone here, you know” I knew he was enjoying himself “that was my point, I wanted it to be you and Cartier having a good time with family. And it worked out” Cassius placed his arms behind him “you know how good you look? There is toilets here, disabled right?” I busted out laughing “you know” he didn’t finish it off, seeing the ladies toilets “you know how good you look” turning to him, bringing my hand up touching his chain “you look good too Cassius” winking at him as I walked off.

Imagine seeing someone like Jay Z, I am amazed. I just stared like a fan, nothing more I can do but stare. The guys around him just stared at me and that was my time to go back to where I need to be, Cassius done left me here. He could have waited, unless the game started again. Walking back into the suite, the game has started again “I am going to sit in front, are you ok to look over Cartier?” I asked Monique, I don’t want to walk off and she doesn’t “oh yes, you go down” I might as well pay some attention to this, I have no idea what is happening but I will watch I guess. Taking my drink with me, my mixer. I don’t want to be drunk so coke with a bit of vodka for me “you came out” Mia smiled at me, seeing the suite at the side of us. Full of men, they all looked at my legs as they do “the game is that way!” Mia spat, I just laughed walking down, placing my hand on Cassius shoulder as I got down “can I sit?” I pointed “yeah, don’t need to ask” moving my hand back as I stepped over his long ass legs that are in the way “my bad” Cassius moved up on the seat “it’s ok, so what is happening?” I am bored already “they are behind” nodding my head “maybe because you’re here, you jinxed them” smiling at him, he is so timid at times “don’t play me” I repeated the very words he says to me “I’m not, you just make me nervous at times. I am good” sitting back in the seat.

Cassius seems so stressed that they are losing, I find it amusing actually. Watching him sit forward as he watched intently, I had to do a double take at the next suite and the guys are just staring, one of them winked at me and I just turned my head. Lazily placing my arm on Cassius back, reaching my hand out playing with the back of his ear “this shit is wack” he sat back “you really upset about it?” moving my arm back “yes, with how they playing” let me be interested “right, what is going wrong?” staring at the side of his face “first D’Angelo gets injured and the rest is history, it’s like they got lazy right at the last point too. They been good all that time too” nodding my head “that is terrible” Cassius looked at me “you don’t give a shit, look at you” I busted out laughing “stop it I do, I am trying ok. I am upset that you are” turning in my seat and sitting more into Cassius because them guys are bugging me “that is sweet, you being nice to me” Cassius placed his arm around me “I am nice sometimes, I am bored that is why. I rather do something else” resting my head on his shoulder “like? I mean after this though” rolling my eyes.

I don’t know what to say to him, his team lost. I will just sit here awkwardly “say something” Cassius said, biting on my top lip trying to not laugh “don’t be an ass” he said, I am doing no such thing “I wouldn’t let my girl walk out like that nigga” I moved forward in my seat “no need for that” Mitch shouted “I am just saying, I wouldn’t let her be out” Cassius moved his arm back about to get up “don’t” I grabbed his arm “just leave it” Wheezy came out from the suite “move it before I come there” one of the guys blew a kiss to me, Cassius jumped up from his seat. Cassius was so quick to jump over the barriers “Cassius, no! Come back” getting up from my seat, Mitch jumped over the barrier also “wait Mitch!” Mia spat, Josiah also jumped over and then Wheezy did also “Cassius, stop it! Leave it” is he crazy, if he gets arrested. Wheezy gripped Cassius away from the guy, seeing the guy’ bloody face. His friends didn’t help “I told y’all to shut up” Wheezy said, Cassius jumped back over the barrier “I told you to leave it” Cassius walked by me, he is angry at what, me or them “nobody told you to go there dummy!” Mia said to Mitch.

I have been waiting for the security or police to take them but they haven’t “are you angry at me? Why did you walk by me?” Cassius looked down at his knuckle “who said I was angry at you” Cassius sat down on the couch in the suite “because it seemed it, are you?” he shook his head “sit down” he gestured, he pointed at his lap “well if you want me too but I would like to know” I sat down on his lap slowly and turning to him a little “you know when you in that moment of being angry, I was just in that moment. It was never to do with you, trust me. I mean I was annoyed, they trying to talk shit” nodding my head, Cassius placed his hand on my thigh “so shall we go to forty forty club?” my smile grew “what about Cartier?” Cassius moved his head to the side a little “my mom will have him, so yeah?” I grinned, “if she doesn’t mind it” looking down at his hand “your knuckles are sore now” poking my lips out “it’s nothing” placing my hand over his “lovers are going to the club then?” Mia asked “like I can’t believe Mitch jumped in you know” I forgot that he did “well I thought the guy was rude, I was helping Cassius out” Mitch said “that’s what I am saying but thank you” Cassius dapped Mitch “you fast though, you jumped over that barrier and punched hit him first shot. That was so crazy” smiling at Mitch, it was nice of him to help.

My baby boy is awake, I don’t want to leave him now “are you sure you will be ok?” I don’t want him to be upset, he is not home. What if I am being careless “oh stop it, he will be ok” looking at my son in the stroller “mommy loves you so much, but you will call me if anything. If he doesn’t sleep or he wants me. Please call me” I am being careless, I feel it. Moving back from the stroller “your mom is going to get some dick” glaring over at Mia “you are drunk young lady, relax” I spat, she is a mess again “I think we should go home” Mitch laughed “nope! To the club now” Mia was supposed to be my hype woman but clearly not “We good to go now?” Cassius has this stupid smile on his face “it’s not that, I don’t care for the sex. I want to be with you, come on now. Let’s have fun” Cassius grabbed my hand “it’s not about that, honestly” nodding my head “ok, please call me though” I keep leaving him, I am a bad parent doing this. Watching Monique walk with Ethan to the car “he will be ok right?” I said to Cassius “yeah, it’s fine” he will be ok.

Walking behind Cassius as I walked into the club with him, Cassius seems to know everyone. I shouldn’t be shocked but I do be at times, looking around the club. Not even going to lie, it brings me memories seeing these bottle service girls “come on” Cassius grabbed my arm, clearly I am being slow with walking. Reaching behind me to grab Mia’ arm, I can’t leave her behind. I am not set out to have sex, that is not my main goal but I guess I will have fun but I don’t do dick appointments, I mean I do. I am a liar, I do. I need to stop being like this, I mean Cassius looks so good and then there is me. He can really get any girl, I see it but here he is with me “climb up” looking ahead of me “where?” I said confused, I looked down at the step “ladies first” letting out an oh, Cassius held my hand to help me up on the step and then I felt a hand on my ass. Looking behind me, he pointed at Mia “feign” hitting her arm, I thought it was him.

Cassius has gone missing, he has been missing for an hour now which has made me drink more. He said he had to deal with something, must be trouble. Pushing myself up and sitting a top of the seating area, can get a better viewing here. Nobody has said anything to us, Wheezy is patrolling like a damn guard but I am annoyed he went, left me here “here” Mia held out the blunt to me “no” putting my hand up “just relax! Take it” she eyed me up “just a little” I guess, taking the blunt from her “give me that bottle of Spades though” she took it from me, placing the blunt between my lips. I don’t smoke, I rarely do actually. I mean it’s very rare thing to do, blowing the smoke out as I looked up “I come back and you doing this” Cassius pointed at the blunt, he has annoyed me “can I sit?” Cassius pointed out, he knows he has annoyed me. Squinting my eyes at him as I opened my legs, he can sit between them. Cassius licked his lips and shrugged as he sat down between my legs. He has a few other boys here but also more females, did he bring them. Cassius dragged my arm down and took the blunt from me and had it for himself, he rested the side of his head on my thigh.

It’s pretty packed in this section now, whatever Cassius did and came back with really made it packed “I like this song” hearing Cassius say, watching him turn around “I can put you in the log cabin, somewhere in Aspen. Girl ain't nothing to the pain ain't tricking if you got it what you asking, for. Put you in the mansion, somewhere in Atlanta!” he shouted over the music, I laughed at him singing it to me. He held his hand out to me, I have not moved from this spot. Holding onto his hand as I step down from the seating area, he spun me around and wrapped his arms around my shoulders “Lets talk about you and me” he sang in my ear, placing my hand on his arm laughing. Turning around in his arms “is that how you really feel huh? What about me and you?” Cassius tilted his head a little staring into my eyes “just like this” he said “just us against the world?” Cassius nodded his head, I grinned looking down. Cassius lips crashed into my forehead “that was supposed to be your lips, why you move!” he spat, he was late on doing that. Looking up at him smiling, I can’t smile anymore than I am because now my cheeks are hurting. He bought his head down to me as he pressed a kiss to my lips.

Cassius randomly brings his head down to me to kiss my cheek, I have been timing him while being stuck between these people. I am so hot right now, hot and tipsy. It’s not a good mix, I actually don’t care where is the toilets in this place. Catching this girl staring at Cassius, mean mugging her as I rested my head back just on Cassius bare stomach. Who is she even staring at, and she has not left Cassius at all, her eyes won’t fucking move. Moving my head forward and turning to Cassius, he is busy laughing with Josiah. Who told him to take off his top off, placing my hand over his dick a top of his jeans and rubbed his dick. That soon got Cassius attention, he leaned down “what’s up?” wrapping my arms around his neck, Cassius placed his arms on my hips and then reached down to my butt and then picking me up, wrapping my legs around his waist “you remember this?” I said against his lips, Cassius was about to kiss me but I moved my head back, I started gyrating against him. Placing my one hand just on his neck as I can hear the cheers, I stopped gyrating and wrapped my arms around his neck tighter hiding my face against his neck. Moving my head back and turning my face to the crowd, resting the side of my face against his and made eye contact with the bitch that was staring.

[atinyidea]

When It Rains Fire | ATEEZ Apocalypse!AU | SAN

→ apocalypse!au fiancé!au female!reader

→ ml!

→ edit: part two!

→ 2.7k words!

When the world went to shit you were asleep. You were in the middle of a dream you no longer remember. That’s the weird thing about dreams — you can never seem to remember them, even when something happens that you’ll never forget. 

You would always remember this day.

Sleep was always one of your favourite things to do. Sleeping next to your fiancé, San, made it even better. The two of you were facing each other, your forehead resting against his collar, his arm layed over the dip of your waist. You had fallen asleep to the sound of his breathing and the way his chest raised and fell rhythmically. Neither of you were wearing much of anything. Earlier he had given you his shirt, the exchange causing a grin to emerge over your features. You both had shredded your trousers off and laid in your underwear. (You had also taken your bra off but that was a couple of hours earlier when you had come home.) So when you were, rudely, awaken by the sound of smashing glass, neither of you were appropriately dressed.

“San-ie, wake up!” You whisper shouted, not wanting to alarm any possible home invader that you were awake. You lifted yourself to lean of your elbow, using your other hand to gentle shake his shoulder. “There’s someone in the house!” Your voice cracked a little, not particularly used to whispering with such intensity.

He groaned, opening one eye to see you hovering over him. Normally he’d greet you with a sly smile and a kiss but the look on your face paused his smile and turned it into a frown. “What’s wrong, why is your face all frowny?”

You looked down at him, brow furrowed. “I heard glass crashing, I think someone’s in the house.” You were shaking like a leaf, not only were you scared but the temperate in the room had dropped during the early hours of the morning.

Nodding his head, having made up his mind, San pushed himself out of the covers, making sure you were covered and leaving a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll go look. I’ll be back, don’t worry.”

On his way to investigate, he made a slight detour and grabbed a baseball bat from the cupboard in the spare room. He had lived in the house with you for almost three years now so he knew where every creaking floorboard was and were the best spaces to hide were. He navigated his way around the second floor, making sure everything was clear before making his way down stairs. His bare feet felt like they were sticking to the floorboards, wanting him to stick to them and not move away.

Then, while he was half way down the stairs, another crash of glass was heard. At the time, he put the noise that followed to rabid dogs. No human could growl like that. His heart skipped a beat after hearing the sound but he pushed on.

Now, you and San liked watching zombie films. Especially the ones that were made a while ago so the graphics weren’t particularly good and the scared weren’t as bad as modern horror films. However, no amount of zombie movies could prepare him for was was in his kitchen that night.

He didn’t put down the bat, he had raised it in a hitting position, ready to strike anything. He moved slowly towards the kitchen, following stray pieces of glass that littered the floor. When he reached the kitchen, he looked to the left of him, confirming the glass sliding door to the back garden was indeed smashed, before locking his gaze on the figure slumped over the kitchens island. The figure was large, San assumed them to be male. He was breathing heavily, San could hear each intake of breath and each exhale.

“Hey!” San shouted, bat raised above his head. He wasn’t stupid, the invader could still attack him, putting the bat down to seem friendly was idiotic. “What are you doing here? Are you hurt?” His tone wasn’t too angry, he had to make sure that the man was here to rob or hurt them and not just severely hurt and having nowhere to go.

He got no response.

San moves closer to him keeping his eyes locked in the slumped man however, in doing so he misjudged the placement of his feet and his right foot landed right on a glass shard. His curse seemed to reverberate around the whole house. As soon as he looked down he could see the seeping of red blood over the floors white tiles. Also at that second, the figure snapped his head up with what sounded like a loud sniff when one had a mucus cold. Only this sound was louder and was followed with a low growl.

San froze. He lifted his head and suddenly he was making eye contact with his neighbor. “Mr Choi?” His voice was confused. The man that lived next door with the same name as him was always nice – they even joked about being ‘as close as family’ since they lived next to each other. His sense of humour was strange but that’s why you and San liked him.

This wasn’t Mr Choi.

His skin seemed to be dropping off his face, like it had been stretched and burnt. The skin around his left eye socket was charred and hanging, making his eyeball seem like it was popped out. While one side of his face was sagged beyond comprehension, the other side’s skin was completely ripped off. San could count the teeth Mr Choi had, he could see where they ended and where his jaw started. He could also see blood covering his entire face.

“Mr Choi!” He repeated with more vigor, stepping back.

Meanwhile, you hadn’t been able to stay and cower in bed. You had tiptoed your way to your bedroom door while San searched upstairs, making your way to the top of the stairs as he left to go down them. Your bottom lip was losing skin from how hard you were biting it. Only when you heard him curse did you make your way down the stairs, missing the creaky seventh step. San hadn’t noticed you yet, his eyes fixated on the man – “Mr Choi?” – bat still above his head.

Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. How could you help him without doing something stupid and end up hurting him? Why was Mr Choi doing this? Was that blood on his face?

As your thoughts spun out of control, you made your way to the living room where you had eaten last night. You remembered the big knife you had pulled out to make San laugh as you jokingly cut into pasta. You only used it once before putting in on a side table – you had forgotten to take it back to the kitchen when you cleared up and only remembered once you were in bed. Picking it up, you thanked the stars for making you forget and remember when you did.

Your hands were still shaking as you made your way toward the kitchen. San’s eyes flickered to you the second you came into view, but only for a second. Mr Choi had started moving towards him with a shrill screech. You wasted no time, almost running to get behind the man. At the sound of your hastened footfalls Mr Choi whipped around to face you. Your eyes widened at the state of his face, an unsolicited scream leaving your lips as your arms worked by themselves and stuck the knife into his face – right between the eyes. He fell forwards almost instantly, falling on top of you and taking the both of your to the floor. The handle of the knife dug into your stomach, pushing its way further into his skull. You could feel the wetness of blood seep into your shirt.

In a flash he was off of you and you were in San’s arms. Before he could move the two of you away, you took initiative and grabbed the knife from Mr Choi’s skull. Then you were crushed into a hug from your fiancé. Both of you asking questions at the same time.

“Are you okay? Did he get you? What are you doing downstairs?!”

“Was that really Mr Choi? What happened to him? Are you okay? Your foot is bleeding!”

Before either of your questions could be answered, movement behind San caught you eye and your blood froze.

“San-ah. There’s another one.” You whispered. San followed your gaze, turning his body slightly but not want to let you go. He did let go however, when his gaze caught sight of a mother man his left arm ripped clean off - blood covering him as well. He stood in front of you and slowly pushed the both of you backwards and towards the door.

“We need to get out of here.”

“In nothing but our underwear?!”

At your words San seemed to remember that he was in nothing but boxers and you were in a bloody shirt and pants. He stopped the motion of walking to assess the situation. This time he never let his gaze leave this man.

“Ah!” He whispered as a thought returned to him “That bag you packed for my trip tomorrow, what’s in it?”

You answered almost immediately, having packed it literal hours before. “Three sets of cloths, a couple of books, chargers, toiletries, oh and your laptop.”

“Great. Gimme the knife.” You did. Sliding the knife into his open hand. He had dropped the baseball bat when he picked you up. “Now, go upstairs and pack yourself a bag. Grab our phones and get yourself to the car in five minutes.”

“San–“

“I’ll meet you there, I promise.” You waited a second before turning sharply to head for the stairs. “Don’t run while it can still see you.”

You walked painstaking slow towards the stairs, and while you quickened your pace to go up them you were still slow, knowing that the stairs made noise when you ran up them. Once back in your room you wasted no time, grabbing the other bag you had contemplated using for San’s trip and started shoving your clothes in it. You shoved a handful of underwear in first before opening a draw and shoving a couple of shirts in. You didn’t register what exactly you were putting in the bag. You went to trousers next, grabbing the top three jeans and a couple pairs of leggings. The bag you were stuffing was getting quite full so you had to think about what you absolutely needed. You grabbed a handful of socks from both your drawer and San’s, shoving them into the spaces caused by the other clothes. You yanked your phones charger out of the socket as well as you and San’s phones and threw them in the bag before zipping it closed.

Like a suddenly epiphany had come to you, your head twisted round to where your purse hung over your dressing table chair. Slinging both your bags over your shoulders you grabbed your purse and made a mental note to grab San’s jacket with his wallet in it from downstairs.

When you had made it downstairs it was quiet. You didn’t linger on the thought, making your way to the front door. San’s jacket wasn’t there, and neither was yours. If you weren’t in a hurry you would have smiled. As you left the house through the open door the car lights switched on – San made it too.

Your joy didn’t last long though as a shrill scream launched itself through the street. Your eyes scanned the area and your heart dropped when you noticed at least a dozen of the things walking towards the car that had just sitched on. You ran to the car, yanking open the back door and diving in. “Just go!” You yelled. There wasn’t enough space in the front for the bags and it would have taken too long to put them in the back and run to the front again.

San didn’t waste any more time and threw the car into reverse.

You had been driving for about ten minutes before your heart had calmed down and you made your way to the front. Neither of you had your seat belts on but you didn’t care. You moved the jackets off of the seat and put them in the back for now, not wanting to get blood on them. Two pairs of shoes were on the floor in front of your seat and you finally let a smile grace your lips. After another five minutes you reached forward and switched on the radio.

“-eaking news! Disaster has struck Seoul as two labs exploded at the same time early this morning. The nuclear site was the first to go followed swiftly by the pharmaceutical lab in the other side of the city. Panic has spread throughout the city but please be advised to stay in your homes it is all under cont—“

San switched the radio off.

You were going to do it too, your hand falling on top his. He still remained quiet but laced your fingers as you continued to drive.

“Where do we go?”

“Away from Seoul.” He paused, the hand on the wheel tightened. “I guess we’ll go to Hongjoong-hyung in Daegu.”

“That just under three hours. We should stop and fill up the gas soon.” You looked up at him and added, “stock up on some food too.”

San hummed in agreement, lifting your hands to switch on the heating. You were thankful, your legs were covered in goosebumps. Soon enough you pulled into a petrol station. Both of you climbed slowly out of the car, walking around to the same door at the back of the car. You grabbed both of the bags and pulled out two outfits, handing San a pair of black ripped jeans and a black hoodie. He took them from your cold hands and started dressing himself instantly. You did the same with a pair of dark blue jeans and a black tank top, after San had left to go fill up the car on the other side.

You started by stepping into a black lace bralet, rolling your eyes at the choice you hadn’t actually chosen, before peeling off the blood stained shirt. You didn’t know what to do with it but you didn’t particularly want to throw it away. So you simply turned it inside out and put it on the car floor for now. You slipped on your jeans, tank top and the grey zip-up jacket San had grabbed before zipping up the bags and closing the door, purse in hand. Both of your were still barefoot but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You walked over to the station’s store, relived to see it at a twenty-four-hour one with someone inside. You had completely forgotten that it was almost five am. You glanced at a five litre bottle of water, noting to get at least one as you continued further into the store. You grabbed a couple of ready made sandwiches and all the handfuls of snacks you could fit in your arms before making your way to the till, plopping everything down in one heap. You were about to turn and grab the water when you felt a hand on your waist.

“And one of these, please.” San said, lifting up one of the five-litre-water-bottles. You lifted your head and sent him a thankful smile, resting back into his chest. You would always feel safe in his arms.

Once everything was paid for and the two of you were back in the safety of your car you decided that it was time for shoes. You handed San his trainers before slipping your own on to your feet, welcoming the minuscule amount of warmth they gave. Then you were driving again.

“Should I call Hongjoong-oppa?”

“He should be awake now.”

“What should I tell him? We’ve had to run away from our home because of a zombie invasion? Would he even believe us?”

“He’s believed worse from us before. I’m sure he’ll believe it more since it’s from you and not me.”

“So we are in a zombie invasion. Those people were zombies.”

“I don’t see any other explanation.”

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes. You made no move to get your phone.

“San-ie.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m... scared.”

“Me too, my love. But we’ll get through this.” He took your hand in his once more. “I promise.”

[crazedlunatic]

Drunk!Matt

“You need to back off, buddy, because I am engaged.”

“This is too precious.” AJ looked amused as Matt drunkenly shoved at Adrian. He was too drunk to put effort into it, though, and gave up after two attempts.

“No. It’s really not.” Adrian sighed.

“He must not drink much.”

“No. He doesn’t.” Adrian confirmed, easing Matt into a booth at the restaurant.

“I don’t want to be by the wall.” Matt whined.

“It’s the only way I can guarantee you won’t embarrass yourself.” Adrian slid into the booth next to him.

“Guys, how come Luigi doesn’t get more credit? Mario isn’t even the best Mario Brother. And what’s their last name? Shouldn’t it be Their Last Names’ Brothers?” Matt asked, taking a sip of water that Adrian had just put in front of him. “Or is Mario’s first name Super and they’re all Marios? Plot twist.”

“Just bring him all the food.” Adrian told the waitress.

“He’s even got his own pizza shop.” Matt continued. “It’s of course called Marios. What a stupid pizza name.”

“Sweetie, I think you’re talking about Marcos Pizza.” AJ said.

“Marco has a pizza shop too? See?! Luigi just isn’t appreciated but I appreciate him. I bet he’s the youngest brother.” Matt scoffed as Wes, Kurt, and Blaine sat across from he, Adrian, and AJ.

“I love him.” Kurt told Blaine.

“I’m engaged. God. Why does everyone want me?” Matt threw his hands in the air.

“Matt, I’m the one that grabbed you.” Adrian said.

“Who are you even? Have you seen my person? He’s a hot model… well, he used to model…. He’s really pretty.” Matt said, looking at AJ.

“I love you too, Matt.” AJ said, mainly for the reaction.

Matt turned to face Adrian. “Oh, there you are! Did you know everyone here loves me? Your friends are nice.”

“I think right now we’re just tolerating you.” Adrian did not look amused.

“Sweetie, do you do stupid stuff when you’re drunk?” AJ asked.

Wes’ eyes lit up. “Yes. Let’s get Blaine drunk and watch it.”

“No.” Adrian and Kurt said together.

“Uh, yeah. The first time I tried to weigh my eyeballs… yes, I did end up in the hospital but not for what you’d expect.” Matt said.

“Wait, what?” Wes asked.

“It’s a long story involved a magnifying glass, a shoestring, and a broom. You should ask when I’m sober.” Matt chirped as they all looked at him like he was crazy.

“But… you went to the hospital because of our eyeball?”

“No. That would be ridiculous.” Matt looked at Adrian like he was crazy. “It was because of the shoestring.”

“What are you doing?” Blaine asked Adrian who had pulled out his phone.

“Texting his brother.” Adrian responded.

“Oooh, tell him hi for me.” Matt said, taking Adrian’s lemonade and downing it in two gulps.

“I… was going to drink that.” Adrian said slowly. He then said, to everyone else, “All he sent was a gif of a dog chasing it’s tail.”

“Maybe he’s drunk too!” Matt looked at Adrian’s phone and began to giggle. “I love that gif. His face when he catches his tail is how I feel when I… ooh. Adrian, can we get ice cream?”

“Yes.” Adrian said. “He’s going to be so sad in the morning when he realizes he got wasted in front of all of us… while we are not even tipsy.”

“But I’m not going to drive, so it’s okay.” Matt said, holding his hand up. “You shouldn’t drive and drink…. Or drink and drive… you should also dare to resist drugs or some shit like that. I dunno. Where do you even get drugs? I mean I know where I can get them but my dad would probably be mad… and Mark… and Pete… and Logan. Oh yeah, and my mom. She told me if I ever smoked pot, she’d cut my hair off… guess what? I didn’t! I really want to do me weewoo right now.”

“Your what?” Wes let out a loud laugh.

“You know… Weeohweeohwee Weeohweeohwee Weeohweeohwee like a cop car?” Matt sang. “C’mon. You have to know that.”

“Hey, Matt.” A firefighter said walking by, looking amused.

“Hi!” Matt waved energetically. When he was out of earshot he added loudly, “I’ve had sex with him. It was subpar but everything is compared to Adrian. Before Adrian, though, it was pretty awesome.”

“How do you not love this? He’s drunk out of his baby mind and still keeps talking about you.” AJ asked Adrian.

“Imma marry him ‘cause he said yes.” Matt beamed. He then looked at Adrian and said, tone very serious, “I love you very much.”

“I love you too.” Adrian patted his thigh but couldn’t help but smile.

Because at least Matt was cute even if he was being annoying.

“The song doesn’t really sound like the car. It actually is a lot more annoying and loud. It hurts my ears.” Matt let out an adorable sigh.

“What’s up, buttercup?” AJ asked.

“I think I forgot to feed my dog.”

“We don’t have a dog.” Adrian looked at him, confused.

“Whose dog have I been feeding?”

“None because we don’t have any dogfood?”

“Do we have a fish?”

“No. We have zero pets.”

“That’s boring. We should get a koala.”

“Okay. You find one and I’ll get it for you.”

Matt grabbed AJ’s phone and pulled up Google.

“I just love him.” AJ sighed. “He’s so cute and innocent.”

“Innocent?” Adrian scoffed. “He is not innocent. Don’t let the cute face fool you.”

“I found one! I sent her a message on Facebook.”

AJ grabbed her phone and showed everyone—it was just a gif of a sloth. Not even a koala. Which had been sent to himself from AJ’s text messages with him.

“It’s on the gimme app.”

“Gify.” AJ laughed.

“No. Gimme. Me as in not you.”

“Just let him win.” Kurt whispered. “This could go on all night.”

“I’m sorry. I just really want to get drunk with Blaine and Matt and it’d be the most hilarious thing ever. We’d get our own show.” Wes said. “Can we make this a thing?”

“I don’t have time to drink. I have finals next week.” Blaine sighed.

“That’s a bummer. You should drop out and join your brothers in blue… or something. I can’t remember. It’s in a pamphlet, though.” Matt yawned and laid his head on Adrian’s shoulder. “Pamphlets are stupido. That’s Spanish… right, AJ?”

“Estúpido.” AJ said.

“Stupido.”

“Estúpido.” She repeated.

“It’s too hard!” Matt laid his head on the table, mock crying.

“It’s… one extra letter…” AJ looked between everyone else at the table as Blaine reached over, patting Matt’s head.

“That one letter is the difference in failing and barely succeeding!” Matt hit the table and then said, “Estúpido.”

“Good job!” AJ smiled at him like she was talking to Scarlett.

“I know Spanish! I need to call and tell Mama.”

“Don’t you dare call your mother right now. It’s three in the morning.” Adrian threatened, grabbing Matt’s phone.

“You’re a thiever.”

The fireman from before came over, dropped a plate of chilli cheese fries in front of Matt, and said “You’re welcome” before walking back to his table.

Matt literally turned around in the seat and yelled, “COOPER, I LOVE YOU BUT YOU GOTTA STAY AWAY BECAUSE I’M ENGAGED NOW!”

“I’m so sorry! I couldn’t help myself!” The guy, Cooper, called back in a very serious tone. “It won’t happen again!”

The restaurant manager came over, also putting an ice cream in front of him. “This will probably help too, Matthew. You’ve gotta quit doing this. You know every time you do, your brothers come in and watch the video footage, right?”

Matt let out one loud laugh and then a snort, causing the firemen several tables back to all begin laughing loudly.

“Thank you.” Adrian told the manager. “How often does this happen?”

“Not often enough to make it not hilarious.” He responded.

Matt pushed the empty fry plate away and then waved energetically as another group of firemen came in.

“I don’t know which of you he’s with but just a hint—Planet Earth episode with the polar bears. He’ll be out within two seconds.” Another young firefighter said before walking and joining the now two groups of fire fighters.

“Matt… how many of those guys did you sleep with?” AJ asked sweetly.

Matt turned in his seat. “Five.”

“Please tell me how good the redhead was.” AJ said.

“Disappointing actually. Coop, though, is awesome. Like… woah.” Matt said, making a blowing up gesture with his hands. “And he’s so ripped. Like… woah.”

“What about Planet Earth guy?” Kurt asked.

Blaine looked at Kurt, surprised.

“Uhm, he was okay, I guess. Honestly, I fell asleep.”

“I just… don’t even know how to react right now.” Adrian said. “I was under the impression he didn’t date firemen.”

“Not seriously and always safe.”  Matt chirped. “You can’t be too careful, Adrian. I don’t have time for STD’s.”

“So… are all of the firemen you’ve slept with over there?” Adrian asked.

“Pfft. That’s just the night shift.” Matt said and then gave a sweet smile. “Just kidding. I’ve only had sex with three of them. Almost four but, yeah, fell asleep. You’re better, though! Pinky promise!”

Adrian hesitantly linked pinkies with Matt, but only because he looked so excited. “Your brothers are gonna love watching this tomorrow, aren’t they?”

“Oh, they’ll watch it a lot. They make copies.” Matt said cheerfully. “They have monthly rewatch parties. It’s kinda annoying but I guess I’m funny.”

“And how does your dad, the chief of police, feel about this?” Blaine asked.

“Are you kidding? He’s the one that has the copies made.” Matt waved his hand in the air. “Mmkay, Adrian. Time to go home and have lots of sex. Mmkay?”

…

“So, Matt, what happened with a magnifying glass, a shoestring, and a broom?” Adrian asked the following morning after Matt got back into bed and laid under his covers—he had been, of course, throwing up.

Matt looked at him, confused, and then pulled his pillow over his head.

“Really? You aren’t even going to tell me?”

“You let me sing the cop car song.” Matt pulled the pillow down and glared. “The cop car song.”

“Oh. You mean wewowewo like a cop car?” Adrian looked confused.

“Uh, no. It’s weeohweeohwee Weeohweeohwee Weeohweeohwee like a cop car.” Matt glared.

“So, I met ‘Coop’ last night.” Adrian looked at Matt, who covered his face with his pillow and let out a loud groan.