#Why sleep when you can lay here hearing reapers hearts breaking

[showmethehotpods]

My headcanons around immortality and rebirth with Gig are fairly fluid, considering there's not always the precise finer details on how it all works. I feel that if other Gods require it, Gig can be reborn/reincarnated. Gig himself seems capable of influencing his own rebirth.

But the terrible little angst gremlin in me thinks about the idea that whilst Gig can 'die', it never sticks permanently, and he's always brought back time and time again, friend after friend, lover after lover, a timeless spector of death watching souls slip between his fingers - feeling the rage and anguish that something somewhere just won't let him give up the job.

How heavily it must weigh to collect the souls of people you've spent their lifetime with, helping them go to the next life - knowing you'll be doing it and again and again.

[allisondraste]

Cockroaches and Other Things That Just Keep On Living

Fandom: Mass Effect

Ship: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian

Word Count: 4019

Summary: It's only been two weeks since the Reaper War ended, and the Alliance is already trying to bury Shepard.

[Click Here for A03]

Two weeks.  It had only been two weeks since the war ended, since that devastating flash of red light burst from the Citadel and bounced off every active relay in the galaxy, since the Reapers fell dead in space and the Normandy crash landed on some tropical little human colony world just on the edge of the Terminus Systems.  It had just been two weeks, but the Alliance and the rest of the whole damn galaxy were already willing to declare Shepard dead.  And to add insult to injury, they’d  given Garrus the great honor and privilege of hanging her name up on a memorial wall in some trite ceremony to make the crew feel better.

“There isn’t anyone who could’ve been at the epicenter of that blast and survived,” Hackett had explained, far too matter-of-factly. “It’s time for us to move forward.”

“Shepard isn’t just anyone,” Garrus had replied, and then promptly told the admiral where to shove his plaque. It was not his finest moment.

Now, he sat in the mess hall, alone and staring down at the dextro-amino rations he’d barely touched. The bastardized version of some overly seasoned human dish would have been unappetizing even if he had an appetite. But he didn’t.  Something about the person he loved being declared dead left a sour taste in his mouth.  He’d only even tried to eat because Liara insisted, and he wasn’t in the mood for another well meant lecture about taking care of himself.

No longer willing to bother, he shoved the plate away from him with the back of his hand, and looked up in just enough time to catch Williams walk past him.  She stopped, performed a proper about-face and marched up to his table.

“Hey,” Ash greeted him like she’d never spoken to him before in her life.

“Hey,” Garrus replied and watched as she shifted uncomfortably and darted her eyes around the entire room before meeting his gaze.

She motioned to an empty seat across the table from him. “Can I— I mean, do you want some company? You just look—”

“Like I’m one news vid about the ‘late’ Commander Shepard away from going postal?” He let out a derisive snort. “Yeah.”

Williams smirked and  eased herself down onto the bench without waiting for him to agree to her company. “I was going to say ‘like shit,’ but that works too.”

He answered her dryly. “Gee. Thanks.”

There was a pause in conversation, then Ash tilted her head in that sympathetic way every human who knew him seemed to do since Earth. “Seriously though… how are you holding up?”

I’m not , Garrus thought, but the words didn’t make it to his mouth, just sarcasm.. “Didn’t realize you cared… or is this just one of those human things where you pretend to care for my benefit?”

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow. “Do I seem like the kind of person who pretends to do anything for anyone’s benefit, especially yours?”

He laughed. “Fair.”

“Listen, this is off the record but… Hackett had that mouthful coming.” She laughed and shook her head. “I’m just glad it was you that said it and not me because, well, I like my job.”

If anyone had told Garrus that one day, he’d have a heart-to-heart with the human woman who’d spent their entire first mission together shooting daggers at him from across Normandy’s shuttle bay, he’d have said they were crazy.  But there they were, raw from the absence of someone who meant so much to the both of them.

“It’s been two weeks,” he muttered, looking down at his hands. “ Two. They haven’t even found her bod—“ he tried and failed to choke back the lump in his throat,  but continued talking anyway, glancing up at her— “It’s too damn soon, Ash.”

“I know,” came her firm reply as she reached across the table.  She hesitated for a split second, but then let her hand fall on top of his.  Deep brown eyes welled up with tears that she tried to blink away.  She let out a frustrated huff as one rolled down her cheek anyway, then cleared her throat.  “ Damn. Pretend this isn’t happening.” “Pretend what isn’t happening, Williams?”

“Perfect,” she remarked, wiping her face with the heel of her free hand and laughing. “Kind of hard to believe it’s only been three years since we tracked down Saren.  Feels like a lifetime ago.”

“And look at us now, being mostly civil,” he said with a sigh, staring down at Ash’s hand.  Alien as it was, it reminded him of Shepard’s, strong to be as small as it was, with too many fingers.  He recalled the many times those fingers had traced the hard edges of his face, how that hand had fit so comfortably into his (after a few clumsy attempts, of course).  He’d take another missile to the face to hold it again.

“You know, Shepard worked her ass off to convince me it’d be fine having aliens on board an Alliance vessel,” Ash observed playfully, pulling him from his thoughts.

“You? Paranoid over a handful of non-humans? I’m shocked .”

“Nothing personal,” she explained,“Just didn’t feel comfortable sharing a station with a guy whose grandpa probably shot at mine during the War.”

“Hate to break it to you but—” he leaned back in his seat— “My grandfather was just a run of the mill C-Sec officer.  All he would have done was write your grandfather a nasty citation. ‘Being human in Citadel space,’ used to be a finable offense.”

“God,” she said with another laugh, “Back then, I rolled my eyes and told Shepard I’d do whatever she wanted me to do. ‘You tell me to jump, I ask how high.  You tell me to kiss a turian, I’ll ask which cheek.’”

“We don’t really have cheeks,” Garrus corrected, laughing when Ash shot him a pointed look, “But that’s beside the point.  I’m guessing Shepard never followed through with that order.”

“No, she told me, and I quote, ‘Nobody’s going to be kissing any turians on this mission, Ash,’” she said in her best Shepard impression, then muttered, “Fucking liar.”

“Well, to her credit, I don’t think she planned on me being so… irresistable.”

Ash snorted and rolled her eyes. “Okay, ladykiller .”

There was another pause in conversation, and her expression fell.  She looked down to where her hand still lay on his. “Back then, I just assumed you’d jump ship as soon as things got rocky, as soon as we— as Shepard — really needed you, but…” She trailed off, grip tightening around his hand.  “You never let her down, not once.  Not even when I—”

“You didn’t let her down, Ash,” he argued, sensing where she was headed, “She never thought that.”

“Yeah, well I do,” she snapped, words clipped, “I should have seen the signs that Cerberus had her pinned down, but I let my ego get in the way.  I’m surprised she wanted anything to do with me after that.”

“You’re not the only one who has ever screwed up trying to do the right thing,” he reassured her, “Shepard, of all people, understood that.”

“That’s… you’re probably right,” she nodded and looked up at him, “Thanks. And for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Uh, sorry for what?”

“For ever believing you weren’t an important part of the crew,” she stated seriously, then smiled, “And for calling you birdbrain  behind your back.”

Garrus’ mandibles flared in amusement, and he gave her hand a few friendly pats. “No harm done,” he said, then paused for a beat, “Besides, you didn’t hear what I said behind your back.”

One of her eyebrows shot up. “You talked shit about me?”

“So much.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” shouted a familiar voice from across the mess, causing them both to snap their heads toward the sound. “Somebody get this heartwarming moment on camera.”

Ash stiffened, retracting her hand quickly and stuffing it under the table. “Joker.”

“Hey, Joker.” Garrus waved. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” he answered, words pointed. “You know, aside from the soul-crushing agony of my girlfriend dying. ”

Garrus had spent enough time around humans to know that the Flight Lieutenant looked rough, even for someone who’d never cared about keeping up appearances.  His eyes were red, the skin underneath dark enough that even the shadow cast from his hat couldn’t disguise the lack of sleep. He made his way unsteadily to the table and sat down next to Williams.

Garrus opened his mouth, preparing to speak, to express sympathy, but Joker cut him off. “And before you start with any of that ‘I understand how you feel’ crap— no you don’t.  Everyone knows you can’t say Shepard’s dead until we’ve ID’d the body.  Maybe not even then. She just keeps living… like a cockroach. ”

“You know you could just say, ‘I’m not doing so hot,” right?” Ash scolded him,  but there was still a softness to her voice. “You don’t have to be an ass about it.”

“Yeah, but see… being an ass is way more my style.”

The table went completely quiet as Joker crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, tension palpable enough it might as well have had mass.  Not one for tolerating awkward silences, Garrus ventured a question. “What the hell is a cockroach?”

Ash smiled, clearly thankful for the change in subject, and began to explain. “They’re these—“

“ Beetles ,” Joker cut her off, “Big, disgusting ones that are supposed to be able to survive extreme conditions other organics can’t.”

“Sounds about right,” Garrus admitted with a shrug.

The pilot flinched and glared at him. “Wait. I called Shepard a disgusting beetle and you’re just okay with that?”

“Are you kidding? Why wouldn’t I be,” he asked sarcastically, “It actually explains why she kept molting. ”

“You’re having fun. Stop it,” Joker whined, scowl deepening, “Stop having fun!”

Garrus laughed and threw his hands up in surrender. “This isn’t exactly my idea of fun. My cockroach is missing.”

Joking though he was, his words were honest, something Joker must have detected.  His expression softened even as he puffed his chest out. He deflated immediately as another familiar voice called out, likely interrupting whatever barrage of barbs he’d prepared to hurl at Garrus. This time, it was Vega who strutted over to the table carrying an entire fifth of some sort of human liquor.  Cortez trailed solemnly behind him, examining the rectangular objects in his hands.

“Yo, don’t tell me the party started without us,” shouted Vega, setting the alcohol down on the table with a loud clank , pointing a thumb back at Cortez, “Esteban here took forever polishing the name plaques.”

Garrus stiffened at the mention of the plaques, knowing full and well there had been one commissioned with Shepard’s name on it despite all his protests. Turned out, the Alliance brass didn’t give a damn about some loud mouth former C-Sec officer or his feelings after all. He just hoped none of the humans were able to read the pain in his expression— a hope that was in vain if the sympathetic glance Cortez gave him was any indication.

“What’s that for?” Ashley pointed to the bottle of amber liquid Vega sat on the table.

“What do you think,” Vega asked, as if his intentions should have been completely clear, “I’m going to pour one out for the commander.”

“All over the Normandy's floor?” She raised her brows at him.

“Nah.” He gave her a dismissive wave. “Just down the sink or somethin’.”

She picked the bottle up and examined the label more closely. “But…this is expensive stuff, James.”

“Don’t care,” came Vega’s indignant response, “It’s for Lola.”

Ashley gave him a solemn nod, seeming to understand whatever peculiar human tradition he was planning to perform. Satisfied, Vega turned his attention to Joker, snagging his cap, flipping it around, and placing it down on his head backwards. Joker cursed and grumbled, calling Vega a bully among other things, but Vega just smiled and walked over to Garrus, giving him a supportive clap on the shoulder.

Slowly, the rest of the crew began to filter in, each with their own expressions of concern.  Traynor and Tali arrived together, deep in conversation if the emphatic hand gestures were any indication.  They both quieted as they arrived at the table, Traynor frowning and bowing her head, whileTali approached and slid comfortably  into the seat next to Garrus.

She looked down at the uneaten food and back up at him, giving him a nudge with her elbow and complaining. “You are wasting all of the good dextro rations.”

“Good? Oh, come on,  we both know it’s garbage.”

“Well… yes, but it’s digestible garbage,” she said, holding a finger up to make her point.  Her voice softened when she continued. “And you’ve hardly eaten anything the past few days.”

He sighed and looked down at the rations. “Yeah.”

Tali observed him for a second, eyes glowing behind her helmet. She then grabbed his plate and slid it toward him. “Eat up, Vakarian. Or else I will have to feed you myself… with a spoon I am pretending is the Normandy.”

Garrus let out a laugh despite himself. “I don’t think that’ll work, Tali.”

“You don’t know that.  You haven’t heard my engine noises.”  She laughed along with him for a few seconds, then grew quiet once again and gave him a gentle pat on the back. “The Alliance is going to feel very silly when Shepard gets back and they have to explain why they hung her name up on the wall and sold her hamster.”

“ If she makes it back this time.”

“She will,” Tali asserted, voice cracking, “She has to.”

It was Javik who entered next, voice booming in a debate with Liara, who had taken it upon herself to explain human customs for memorializing the dead. He shook his head and ignored her entirely, stating that if he wished for a history lesson, he would ask for one.  He then snapped his many-eyed gaze to Garrus.

“You should not be saddened about Shepard’s fate, Garrus.  She died with great honor.”

Liara let out an exasperated sigh, and sat down in one of the empty seats at the next table over, bringing her hand to her face.

“What is it, asari?” Javik snapped, “Honor in death is something turians hold in high regard, is it not? This should be a great comfort to him.”

“Perhaps with time,” Liara explained,”But right now it is… insensitive.”

“It’s nothing my dad hasn’t already told me a dozen times,” Garrus stated flatly, “I appreciate the sentiment.”

Weird that a fifty-thousand year-old Prothean reminded him of his dad.  Then again, Castis Vakarian was as about as traditional as turians came, and they butted heads on almost every subject, including but not limited to: Garrus’ disregard for rules, his decision to leave C-Sec—twice, his “risk- and attention-seeking” behavior, and his “absurd infatuation with a human woman”. Their relationship had always been strained, to say the least. Still, he had always been there when Garrus needed him, and listened when it mattered. He was the first call Garrus made from the medbay after the Reapers were destroyed, when he realized Shepard might not be coming back.

He’d been sympathetic, but not even remotely comforting, not unlike Javik was at present. Garrus just didn’t have it in him to explain to either how little he cared about the honorable nature of her sacrifice, the high esteem the galaxy now held her in, or the way history would remember her. None of that mattered when she wasn’t at his side.  How could he be proud, when all he felt was empty?

Once all parties arrived and settled in, the group spent time talking and sharing memories. The Alliance crew members all told stories about encounters with Admiral Anderson, how he more often felt like a parent than a commanding officer, and how his reputation was so much larger than his ego. Traynor did most of the talking about EDI, their friendship, and how seamlessly she’d fit into the crew, how easy it had been to forget she was an AI. Joker just pulled the bill of his cap down to cover his eyes.  Then, the reminiscence moved to the commander.

Every single person present had a story about Shepard, about how she went above and beyond the call of duty to help them, and to make sure they were taken care of while aboard the Normandy.  Shepard had always taken time to check in with the people who worked for her, even when the galaxy was falling apart and herself along with it.  She was a good leader, arguably the best, and an even better friend.  It was clear that everyone in the room admired her, and that she was missed.

Garrus knew he should say something, tell one of the many stories of the trouble he and Shepard had gotten into together. The others all watched him expectantly as he scrambled for words.

“I—“ he began, but was interrupted by the buzzing of his omni-tool, followed by several bright flashes of light. He cursed and pulled up the interface to silence the damn thing.  An urgent message alert flashed on his screen, and he tapped the icon to open it.

From: Dr. Chloe Michel

Subject: Jane Doe

Dear Garrus,

I hope this email reaches you, and that you are still alive to read it.  I am on the Citadel working with an emergency medical unit out of what is left of  Huerta Memorial. The blast from the Crucible caused some severe structural damage near the epicenter, and we have been searching the area to find and identify survivors and remains.

There is a Jane Doe here, who I believe you might know. Please contact me on a private channel whenever you are able.

Take Care,

Chloe

His heart sank like lead into his gut as he read what could only be a request to come in and identify a corpse.  The space around him was suddenly too full, too loud, and the curious eyes of his companions lingered on him for far longer than comfortable. He tapped the display on his omni-tool once again to close it, glancing around the room from one set of eyes to another.

“It’s nothing,” he lied. The truth would only cause unnecessary alarm he wasn’t equipped to handle at the moment.  He stood abruptly, a jolt of pain coursing through his leg that was still recovering from a fracture, and excused himself. “Just need to make a quick call.”

“Now,” Liara asked, frowning, “But the memorial ceremony was just about to begin.”

“So start without me,” he snapped and made his way to the main battery.  He’d apologize later, when his world wasn’t caving in.

The battery doors shut behind him with a familiar hiss and he sank down into his seat next to the workbench where his favorite rifle lay surrounded by tools and unused thermal clips. It had taken a beating in the battle on Earth, and Garrus had poured over repairing it in the days following its end.  He hadn’t touched it since.  There were no more enemies to fight, and the gun just reminded him of Shepard.

Bringing up his omni-tool once again, Garrus established a link using the information Michel provided him.  He only waited a second or two before a voice on the other end picked up.

“Garrus,” exclaimed the woman, “I am so glad you received my message.”

“About that Jane Doe,” he began, cutting straight to the chase, “I— do you need me to identify the b— her ?”

“No… it is Commander Shepard,” she explained, “I am absolutely certain.”

“ Oh, ” Garrus said with the breath he’d been holding.  He was glad he was already sitting down, as the last shreds of hope he’d been clinging to slipped from his grasp leaving him dizzy and sick.  It was Shepard.  She was dead. There was nothing to be done about it.

He took a minute to collect himself and his thoughts, cleared his throat and told the doctor, “I, uh…I’m not really sure how to— I mean, I guess I should make funeral arrangements. That’d be better than letting the Alliance—“

“Garrus,” Michel interjected firmly, “She’s alive.”

“ What,” he asked, more loudly than he’d intended.  Hoping nobody had overheard outside, he lowered his voice and continued, “I mean, how is she? What’s her condition? Is she going to—”

“I won’t lie to you,” the doctor interrupted again, “Her injuries are serious, and she has been comatose since we found her.  Still, her vitals are strong and stable at present. She is a fighter.”

“She is.”

The line was silent for a beat then Michel spoke up again.  “I had a wonder… Shepard’s body has, ehm… extensive cybernetic modification. More extensive than I have seen. We are not certain how, or if it is even possible to repair all of the damage.”

One name came immediately to mind. “Miranda Lawson.”

“Pardon?”

“You need to contact Miranda Lawson,” Garrus clarified,  “She is an ex-Cerberus operative, the scientist responsible for Shepard’s upgrades. And a friend. She will be able to help. I can send you her contact information.”

“Good, yes. I will contact her immediately,” Michel replied, relief noticeable in her voice. She then sighed and said, “I apologize for sending such a vague email.  I am realizing now that it was likely… anxiety provoking. I simply did not wish for the wrong people to find out about Shepard’s survival.”

Garrus huffed, “Yeah, if the media caught wind of this, it’d be a circus.”

“That is what I feared,” she agreed with a sigh, “Besides, I thought you should be the first to see her. I know she is important to you.”

“Thank you, doc. For everything.”

“It is the very least I can do.  I owe my life to the both of you. Twice over, now it would seem:”

“I’ll get to the Citadel as soon as I can.”

“Talk to you then.”

The call ended with a beep and Garrus shut off his omni-tool display, staring blankly at the wall on the opposite side of the room for several minutes, attempting to recover from the emotional whiplash the last half hour had given him.  He took a deep breath, rose to his feet, and headed back out to the mess hall.

All eyes turned to him as he made his way toward the memorial wall just outside the elevator.  EDI’s and Anderson’s names had already been placed, tears already shed. Now they looked to Garrus, Cortez approaching with the name plaque meant to commemorate Shepard’s death. He took the polished silver plate and examined it, light glinting off its corners as he stepped up to the wall.  For a long moment he traced the letters of a name that had come to mean so much to him, to those crowded in the narrow hallway around him, to the hundreds of thousands who’d cheered from ships in the massive fleet she’d rallied and led to victory, and to the billions of lives she’d saved across the galaxy.  Shepard deserved so much more than a name on a wall.

And now, just maybe, she could have it.

Garrus would have preferred to keep  Shepard’s survival to himself, to snag her from the hospital and elope to some secluded tropical paradise where nobody could ask anything of either of them again, except “Would you like a refill on that incredibly alcoholic beverage?” But he knew he couldn’t do that.  After all, he was not the only one who loved her.

Lowering the plaque, he turned to face the others, all of whom looked at him with a mix of confusion and concern.  He glanced down at Shepard’s name again, mandibles flaring out reflexively as relief and excitement swelled in his chest.

“They found her.  They found Shepard,” he told them, bringing his eyes to meet their gazes as he spoke. “She’s alive.”

[endeenderman]

"Black Butler" Ash Landers x (Demon, Suicidal, Female) Reader.

Prologue:

Your name was (y/n) (l/n), you were a demon/human hybrid, you were found on the as of (five years ago from your actual age) by the queen herself, she gave you a home at the palace, and a work as the queens personal painter, and other art themed stuff, you were very pleased with your work and so did the queen but someone didn't, the one and only Ash Landers, Her Majesty's loyal butler, what a shame, he was so lovely looking and you were sure he was kind hearted as he was an angel, but not towards demons like you, even if you weren't a full one. You will wake up everyday with a smile on your face, hoping that Ash will see you as a friend, but what was the chance of that?. He will give you a cold stare and a small 'hello' before leaving, you were heartbroken every time, but you couldn't any more, this time will be the last time, and you hopped, what he will accept your feelings....

Your P.O.V.

You woke up earlier than every other day, you got dressed and started walking down the corridor that led to the dinning area, you were confident and wanted to tell Ash your feelings, that you...loved..him, but were afraid to tell him because of what you were, a bemon, he wouldn't believe you, never, but you had to try, you couldn't live with the thought that the man you loved hated you, you couldn't.                                                                           As you finally made it to the dinning area there was no one there, everyone was still asleep or probably getting ready, everyone....except for your dear Ash Landers, he was looking out the window watching the sun rise, you walked towards him but stopped when you realized that he noticed you, you took a few steps back.

"Can...can..I.." you started pointing to the window.

"You know that the window is not my property, you can use it whenever you like" Ash said with his calm and almost emotionless voice. You knobbed and walked towards the window, you could see with the corner of you eye his violent eyes shinning as the sun reflected itself into his purple abyss, his silver white hair also shined, you were amassed, almost hypnotized from his features that you didn't notice yourself reaching a hand to touch his hair, he turned his eyes on you and stared at you, it took you long enough to realize what was happening that you gasped, you stayed silent and you stared back into his purple gaze.

"You can take your hand of me now" Ash said with the same tone in his voice, you quickly pulled back your hand.

"Sorry" you mumbled loud enough for him to hear, you heard him say something under his breath, something like 'filthy' or something, you turned to him, he was staring out the window once again.

"You know if you have a problem with me you can just say it for once" you said, he turned to you and smirked (I don't know if this even is possible but whatever...).

"A problem you say?, ohh (y/n), if my problem was just one I would have been so lucky" he said with a slight smile.

"And why will you say that?, you always have he on edge and ignoring me for 5 years, will you tell me what wrong?" You asked, tears starting to appear in the corners of your eyes.

"My problem?, you are my problem, ever since the queen let you in side this place, a person like you, from your kind, everything it wrong" he yelled at you, he turned to walk away but you grabbed him by his sleeve.

"Let go of me NOW" he ordered, you shook your head.

"No, I will not, I have to tell you something, I...I...I am in love with you, from the first time I saw you, and it hearts to see you ignoring me" you started, he pulled his sleeve out of your grasp, and fixed it.

"Hurts you say?, you can't feel anything, no emotions at all, this is all lies you want to fool me with, I will not stand here and listen to your nonsense" he said as he started walking away.

"NO" you cried, tears now falling down your face, "please, I..I can't live without you, my live doesn't have a purpose" you said trying to pull him back to stop walking, he soon stopped and turned around towards you, he lifted his hand and smacked your cheek, the hit was heard that you fell on the ground, you looked up at him with teary eyes, you could see anger in his eyes.

"Then die" he said and left without a word, so was this his final words?, maybe yes, maybe not, but you can take it any more, you got up from the floor and  walked towards the kitchen, you opened a cabinet and took a kitchen knife, you hid it underneath your maid dress, and walked back towards your room, you had a small bag of salt in your pocket as well. As you got to your room, you locked your door,  you sat on your bed and took out your knife and salt, you placed the knife inside the salt and moved it around, when you took it back out the knife was covered in salt, as you were only one part demon, it was easier to kill yourself, you grabbed the handle of the knife and turned it, making the blade face your chest, with one quick move, the knife was stabbed inside your chest, you cried, the salt burned and the cut made it worse, you slowly laid on your bed waiting for your life...to end.

Ash's P.O.V.

I was preparing Her Majesty's mail when I saw something red burst through the window, I quickly rad towards it and saw a man dressed like a woman with a chainsaw, it was a grim reaper.

"Who are you and what you want, please leave at once" I ordered, he smiled at me.

"Oh I am the one and only Grell Sutcliff, I am here to collect a soul that says will be dying in nust a few minutes." He said cheerfully, a soul?, here?.

"Whos soul are you here to collect?" I asked, he took out his 'to die list' and checked.

"Oh, its a girl round (your age) years old, and her name is (y/n) (l/n)" the reaper said, wait (y/n)?.

"Who will she die?" I asked, he smiled wider.

"Ohhhh, she died with by stabbing herself or else committing suicide." He added, so she actually did it huh?, she was only half demon witch ment faster to kill, she wasn't lying, she did..have feelings for me. I rushed towards her room only to find that her room door was locked from the inside, I knocked on the door but no response, I used all my strength to break the door so I could get to her, this was my fault, no one elses. I finally managed to break through the door, I examined the room only to find her laying on her bed, I got close to her, she was sleeping, like that  night that me and the queen found her, I was such an idiot, I shook her to see if she wakes up, but unfortunately she didn't, I knew what I had to do, I opened one of my tuxedos pockets and took out a small glass bottle, they were angel tears, I have heard that these tears can heal the broken hearts and the pain, I opened it and placed it on her lips, slowly lifting up the bottle so she could drink the liquid, once the liquid was gone I placed it back in my pocket, I waited for her to wake up.

"(Y/n)....if you can listen to me.....I am sorry.....sorry this happened to you...I...I..do have feelings for you...its just that...I hated myself for that, and I got all this hatred on you...I am really sorry...I love you...(y/n)" I said, a tear started appearing in the corners of my eyes, I haven't cried for a long time, as I wiped the few tears that started making there way down my face, I felt something, a movement, I looked at (y/n), she was holding my hand.

"I...love...you..to....Ash" (y/n) said, I smile appearing on her face, I smiled as well, she was ok, and that was all I cared about, not that she was a demon, not nothing, except keeping an eye on her, just in case she goes dramatic again, as for the reaper?, he isn't claiming her soul not today, not never.

THE END.

[rukia-kuchiki-divided]

Can you write about the adoption scene from Rukia's perspective? Pls??

~Sure why not? Angst hours it is then! Under readmore for length because... I have no self control~

The unused study room at the end of the hall sat completely empty when Rukia arrived. Sighing softly as the door shut behind her, grateful that it was enough to effectively muffle the remarks about her origins in the Rukongai. Wasn’t it bad enough that she was surrounded by stuck up nobles who lived life without a care in the world? Meanwhile, she was back to rationing out her meal supply until she could manage to sneak out to the outer edges of the Seireitei and replenish her stash. 

Renji was supposed to meet her here so they could take their lunch break together. It had been a few days since Rukia really had a chance to talk to him. They’d both been training late into the night, normally too exhausted to exchange much more than pleasantries in the evening before giving in to sleep in their respective dormitories. Males and females were generally kept apart though Rukia felt safer sleeping up in the branches of the nearby trees then in her small closet of a room. It wasn’t that she wasn’t grateful to have a place to keep dry in the rain. But compared to living in the Rukongai with it’s wide open spaces, she found it a touch claustrophobic for her tastes.  

Wondering just how long his exam was going to take, Rukia let out another long sigh. This was his second major exam that would allow Renji to excel into the next level. If he passed, he’d be more than just an advance class above her. She should feel happy for him. She was happy for him. But that dark shadow of doubt weighed heavily in her chest which rendered reading her open textbook impossible. 

“The gap between us just continues to grow.” Rukia muttered to no one in particular. “Eventually, that bond will snap. Am I holding Renji back?  I  wish I was able to forget the Rukongai as easily as he seems to have done.” 

Groaning, Rukia tapped her forehead against the text book. What is wrong with me? Renji’s excelling and here I am feeling sorry for myself. Snap out of it, damn it!

So when the door suddenly opened, Rukia had already resigned herself to put on a happy face and congratulate the red head despite the pang of jealousy in her heart. 

“About time, baka. I thought you were gonna stand me up for-” 

Rukia’s eyes widened as she realized she did not feel Renji’s usual warm familiar reiatsu. Quickly jumping to her feet, she recognized the signs of nobility  from the kenseikan to the servants accompanying them, even to the way they watched her low bow with a critical gaze. 

“Forgive me, I thought you were someone else.” 

Rukia apologized, keeping her head low as she was taught. The last thing she needed was to piss off a noblemen who might have a say in how their classes were graded. There appeared to be two noblemen while the others were their attendants. Wait  - not just attendants but soul reapers! 

The younger one with the kenseikan had a zanpakuto in addition to an intimidating amount of spiritual pressure. It felt cold and hard like a steel blade on a cold winter morning. They match his hard grey eyes that look over Rukia’s face critically, as if searching for something. She watched as a flicker of immeasurable sadness crosses his gaze for an instant before it is locked behind a wall of steel. Was that pity?

“Forgive us, as it is we who interrupted your studying.” The older man spoke with a deep baritone, motioning for Rukia to stand up straight once more. “You are Rukia, is that right? From Inuzuri in the Rukongai?” 

“Yes, that’s me.” But how and why would nobles like them care about her or where she was from? Her brow furrowed slightly as she ran through a list of possibilities.

The older noblemen glanced at the younger one, his facial expression asking an unspoken question. Rukia watched as the younger one inclined his head slightly, an almost imperceptible nod of approval.

“I see.” The older man looked Rukia over once more  with stern eyes behind those delicate glass lenses and she felt significantly more uncomfortable. The way his eyes lingered on her worn red uniform and the smudges of dirt on her shoes made her feel as though she was being assessed for a price.

 “Then let us get on with the purpose of our meeting. Rukia, my name is Nobutsune Seike. I am the cleric elder of the noble Kuchiki Clan. This is Byakuya Kuchiki, the head of our noble house.” The pride in his voice as he spoke was overwhelming. Even Rukia had heard of the Kuchiki clan, though only in rumor as if they were a fairy tale to be sought after. 

“We would like to make you an offer to join our family.” 

The world seemed to suddenly turn on it’s side. Rukia blinked once and then twice to regain her composure. Surely she had misheard the elder?! Perhaps he was confused and misspoke?! Her violet eyes glanced up at who she now knew was Byakuya Kuchiki himself, looking at him for any sign of disagreement. But his face was stoic and still, as if he was made of steel himself. 

“My apologies,” Rukia managed to stammer out. “But I must have misunderstood. What would a noble clan want me to joint their family for?”  

For a split second, Rukia could have sworn she saw a look of disgust cross the elder’s face though he disguised it well. “Ah a very blunt question. But we can get to the details of things after we present our offer. Rukia, we would like to extend to you an offer of adoption. Not only would you be part of the noble Kuchiki Clan, but Byakuya Kuchiki himself will adopt you as his younger sister!” 

His younger sister? But... why? It didn’t make any sense to her. Before Rukia could interrupt, Nobutsune held up his hand. 

“Please, allow me to lay out the terms of our offer. You would become Rukia Kuchiki, no longer a nameless soul of the Rukongai. Your home would be the main Kuchiki house with all its amenities. Of course, you would be subject to the laws of our clan as any other member of Kuchiki house along with the additional requirements the main family house entails.” 

He paused again, looking Rukia up and down for the third time while pushing up his glasses. “We understand that there is a ... gap in education due to your upbringing. We are prepared to tutor you in our home as well as propel your soul reaper career. As a member of our noble house, you will not need to bother completing the Academy’s training course as we will arrange for private training. You will be allowed to join an available squad of your choosing and test for a seated position if you should qualify.” 

This was unreal. She had to be dreaming. There was just no way that the Kuchiki clan, of all the noble houses in the Seireitei, had found her and asked for her to join their family. Something was wrong. In Rukia’s experience, if an offer seemed too good to be true, it most likely was. There was always a catch. 

But - family. The idea of having a family with all the bonds that went with it was certainly appealing. Renji. His face instantly surfaced in her mind as he was the only one she had any semblance of a bond with at this time. What would he think of this? What would this do to their already fraying friendship? Nobility came with chains. Rukia was well aware of that. 

“What exactly would my extra duties require of me?” Her violet eyes carefully flickered between the elder and Byakuya, trying to gain any insight they might offer. 

“As part of the main family, you are expected to attend certain functions, maintain a strict code of conduct especially outside of the walls of our home. Your comings and goings will be restricted as well as your social circle and those you interact with on a casual basis. You will be allowed to continue your soul reaper career, as mentioned before, so that will be the exception to this. When the elders of our clan deem it appropriate, you will be wed to a suitor of our choice who meets the Kuchiki clan standards. In exchange, all of your needs will be provided for and your career elevated.” 

His thick white eyebrows raised above his glasses in a way of finality. “Well, do we have your interest, Rukia of Inuzuri?” 

Rukia was processing everything he had said, not missing the subtle way her freedoms would be restricted. Her gaze fell to the ground, heart torn. Could she do this? Could she really sell her soul for this? 

Again, Renji’s face swam into her mind’s eye. Of course not! Renji was her family. If she were to join the Kuchiki’s, then she would not be permitted to speak to Renji. That alone was enough to make her doubt this offer. But was she holding Renji back in his own life? Doubt crept in, a cold chill running up her spine.

“I..I’m not-” 

As if on cue, the door burst wide open and almost caused Rukia to jump. Renji’s excitement was rolling off of him as he blurted out his news. 

“Rukia! Guess what? I passed the second exam! Can ya belie-” 

The way his face shifted from exuberance to confusion was almost comical. Rukia saw the look of recognition as Renji took in Byakuya’s kenseikan and the spiritual pressure in the room. “Uh..” 

“It seems our negotiations have been interrupted.” Nobutsune eyed Renji with only thinly veiled disgust. “This place is no longer suitable for us to continue our discussions”

 He and Byakuya already began making their way back through the entrance as Renji moved aside for them to pass. “We look forward to hearing a favorable answer, Rukia.” 

Rukia’s mind was conflicted, thoughts rolling into each other as she tried to untangle them. But Renji was here now. He was the strategist, the one who kept his feet grounded between the two of them. He was her best friend, after all. If anyone could see the flaws in this plan and understand her view on nobility, it was him. 

“Renji..” 

He seemed startled out of deep thought, not having moved from his position beside the entrance way. “Oh Rukia! What - what was that all about, eh?” 

She averted her gaze, not trusting herself to look Renji in the eyes at the moment. “They were from the Kuchiki clan. They.. want to adopt me into their family.” Rukia was already shaking her head, holding one arm with the other across her abdomen to steady herself. “I don’t know what to do. Renji-” 

The last thing Rukia expected was to hear Renji exhaling in what seemed like relief. His hand moved to her shoulder, grasping her as he started to chuckle. 

“What do ya mean ya don’t know what to do? This is great! The Kuchiki clan is a powerful family! Oh man, yer gonna be living the life of luxury just like we always dreamed about!” He shifted his hand slightly on her shoulder as Rukia watched his face intently. “I wonder what you’ll be eatin’! Ah! I’m so jealous!”  

Fake. That was the first thought that crossed Rukia’s mind as she watched him. He was lying to her about how he felt. But why would he do that? Unless... she had been a burden holding him back this whole time? And now he had a way to severe their bond without feeling guilt. That was the only explanation that made sense to her, the only reason she could think of that Renji would lie to her - to spare her feelings. 

It was an almost audible snap in her heart as she felt the bond between herself and Renji break, finally frayed to it’s last thread. She understood now that there was nothing left for her here. He was giving her away, without even an after thought. She was a reminder of where he came from, a life Renji was desperate to forget as he fit in with the others in his class. That’s all she would always be to him - a painful reminder of why he would always be different. 

I see now.. Rukia felt the pinpricks of tears threatening to spill out of the corner of her eyes. This was kindness on Renji’s part. He was letting her go in the gentlest way possible. She reached up to grasp his hand with both of hers, gently pulling it off her shoulder. He looked down at her, meeting her gaze before she tore her eyes away. 

“Thank you.” 

Before Rukia allowed herself to say anything else lest she give away how broken hearted she felt, she did the only thing she knew how to do. It saved her life time after time and would be her saving grace again.

Run. Don’t look back. Just run. 

She ran straight down the hall, not stopping until she had caught up with the Kuchiki elder and Byakuya. 

She bowed, wiping away any semblance of tears that remained on her face before meeting their gaze.

“I accept.”

The elder bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement, glasses gleaming in the sunlight. 

“Welcome to the family, Rukia Kuchiki.” 

[ilikebeesandflowers]

Finale? What finale?

That was just the Empty torturing a wayward gay angel... Here’s what really happened after Cas confessed his LOVE to Dean Winchester and was taken to Super Mega Hell...

Unedited, unproofread, unbeta’d- just pure, unadulterated, whiskey-and-rage-fueled fix-it fic. Ps, El Sol cerveza is the official beverage of fake-dream-worlds, and therefore the entire narrative of the finale is sus.

Love Lift Us Up (Where We Belong)

Cas slumbered, but fitfully. Oblivion plagued him with nightmares.

Some dreams replayed memories, even of memories that were not strictly his: one by one, everyone he loved torn apart at an atomic level, rent, poofed to dust. His sleeping self watched on a loop as Bobby, Charlie, Donna, nameless others fell, obliterated.

He saw Michael slay Lucifer, the foregone conclusion so many times delayed.

He saw Michael betray the Winchesters. But how? Why? Michael had changed, hadn’t he? Adam had changed him. Even asleep, Cas knew this to be true.

He watched Jack, his loving and beloved son, fulfilling the promise Kelly had known he held. Jack bringing peace to the world, restoring balance, returning all life on earth to its rightful places. Cas was certain that this dream was true. He felt Jack’s presence, unmistakable lightness and goodness and purity.

The Empty roiled violently, rippling the fabric of its realm.

The dreams changed again to nightmares.

Dean, alone. Sam, alone. Eileen, alone.

The hunters who had died were again whole and alive, walking the earth as if Chuck’s poisonous animosity had never snuffed them. And yet they were all isolated from one another. Oh, the younger children clung to their parents, but the parents drifted from one another.

Charlie, alone. Donna, alone. Claire, alone.

The loneliness of the hunters infected the denizens of the Empty, and the Empty smiled in its sleep.

Cas dreamed that he watched Dean dying, an ignominious death in a ramshackle barn. He felt a wave of revulsion, of jealousy, like he did in another barn, once upon a time, witnessing a kiss between Anna and Dean. What had he felt then, way back when, when feelings were still so new and frightening? Had he been in love then?

The scene repeated, again and again, a horrible parody of what should have been. A confession of love, two foreheads touching, hands held over Dean’s heart. The scene replayed a hundred, a thousand times, Cas viewing from the vantage of the beloved, but Cas never could see who received Dean’s love. He only knew it wasn’t him. He could only watch through someone else’s eyes, hearing and seeing and feeling with intense loathing what should have been his.

Then Dean was dead.

 The scene faded again. Cas saw Sam, living on, without Dean, without Jack, without Eileen, without hunters or hunting. In the space of a human heartbeat, he was married, raising a human child, a son. In another heartbeat, he was old, then dying, then greeting his brother in heaven.

He felt again a tug as if Jack were near. A faint glow.

Cas woke. Two amber eyes shone above him.

“Castiel,” said Jack, “something is wrong. I need your help.”

Cas scrambled to his feet. “The dreams? They were real?”

Jack couldn’t know what Cas had seen, and yet he shook his head and assured him that, no, those were the Empty playing tricks. “But reality is in danger. Heaven and Hell are out of balance. Heaven’s brightest are all here, when they should be up there. We’ll have to wake them.”

The Empty howled somewhere far off, something that sounded like, “Let me sleep!”

Jack stepped briskly in the inky blackness, tapping here and there, naming sleeping entities. “Hannah, you are needed. Duma, awaken. Gabriel. Michael. Raphael, your services are humbly requested.”

Soon, the din of awakened angels, archangels, seraphs, and reapers had summoned a furious cosmic entity of entropy and oblivion. “KEEP. IT. DOWN,” it hissed.

“And what will you do if we don’t?” Castiel asked, raising an eyebrow to the Empty, who stood before them in the guise of Meg Masters, circa 2009.

The Empty stamped its foot. “I took you in. You all died the death of immortals, a death that cannot be rewarded nor punished, but I took you in! And all I ask for is quiet!”

“But why?” Cas continued. “You despise us. Why do you trap us here?”

The Empty hesitated. “They dream,” it replied. “They dream, and so I dream.”

“We suffer nightmares of your making.”

“No-oo. The dreams are yours.”

“You enjoy the nightmares?”

“No.” The Empty faltered. “They wake me up. You stir, I stir; I must sleep!”

Jack spoke softly to the Empty. “Then expel them.”

“Expel them? What, just set them all free to commit chaos?”

“Just the dreamers.”

The Empty seemed to calculate the price of granting the nephilim’s wish. “That would be almost all of the angels and a number of powerful demons. They might return, clomping into my haven and disturbing my sleep.”

“No,” Castiel put in, his eyes lit with a wry smile. “If you expel them, they will be forever banned from your realm. They become subject to Purgatory, not Oblivion.”

Jack smiled at his father. “Exactly!” He turned again to the Empty. “So you’ll do it?” he asked brightly.

The Empty scowled. It nodded once, as if making a decision.

The world went white, then faded to reveal a sunny meadow. Roly-poly bumblebees flitted between fat heads of purple clover. A nest of chickadees chirped. Cicadas droned. A red kite soared above them, the string held by someone a long way off. Cas’ face softened, as if recalling a long-lost memory.

It hardened again as he sensed something amiss. “Jack,” he frowned, “the walls between the human heavens are failing.”

Jack nodded. “Yes, which is why we need more angelic energy. But watch.” He drew a small window in the air with his index finger. He pushed the cut-out, revealing an adjoining heaven belonging to a woman. Cas recognized her as the mother of the man with the kite. Her heaven contained a meadow: the same meadow that surrounded them, rather than the manicured lawn Cas knew from the man’s original heaven.

“They can co-exist,” he breathed.

“Yes. We can break these barriers and open Heaven. It doesn’t need to be a prison. We can fix it.” Jack grinned again, that same old smile he’d worn in life, when he learned the taste of nougat or the softness of a bunny rabbit.

The sight warmed Cas. The summer sky glowed just a bit brighter. “Tell me what to do, my son.”

***

For six days, as Heaven measures time, the angels, the archangels, and the nephilim worked. First, negotiating a truce with Hell and its imperious but righteous Queen, and then building a Heaven for all. On the seventh day, they rested from their labors. They gathered to watch the humans on earth for a little while. Almost no time had passed: the humans had had just enough time to recollect that they had watched their loved ones vanish; those unfamiliar with the supernatural had quickly forgotten the phenomenon, as well. The hunters in the warded hideout had had just enough time to embrace their newly un-vanished friends.

Sam was texting Eileen, only to remember that he still had her phone, abandoned on the sidewalk mid-text. He laughed at himself. “We have to drive to Eileen’s house.”

Dean lay hunched over the table, carving a word into the polished wood alongside the Winchester family initials. Thus far, it read, “CAST,” and he was just starting on the I. “Pack us up- I wanna finish this, but I can be ready in twenty.” They watched as he finished his tribute to Castiel. He put two fingers to his lips, then pressed the finger pads against the grooves.

Cas itched to know how Dean meant the gesture.

Dean hastily scratched the name “JACK” into the table, too. “You done good, kid,” he murmured, patting the letters as he might once have patted Jack on the shoulder.

The angels drifted back to their tasks. Cas stayed, watching his friends. His family. He followed their movements towards Eileen. He witnessed the tearful reunion.

Sam started sniffling long before Dean pulled up behind Eileen’s little red car. He stepped over the sidewalk, where he had first absorbed her death, and a sob escaped him. In a few strides of his long legs, he was at the door. His hand shook as he reached for the doorbell. The second phone in his pocket vibrated: her doorbell notification. How would she know that he was there? He clapped the knocker, stamped his feet.

The door opened. Eileen. A vision, a sight for even Cas’ sore eyes. Sam was overwhelmed. He croaked her name, and she was in his arms. Where she belonged.

Back at the curb, Dean turned his face from the lovers. He fiddled with his phone, but who could he call?

Cas heard Dean think his name. He felt a pang of longing, but it wasn’t his own. Or rather, it matched his own. Echoed his, merged with his, swelling the aching feeling until he felt full to bursting with yearning for something he thought he could never have. Had thought he couldn’t have. Now, he wondered.

He called to his son.

Jack appeared beside him. He followed Cas’ gaze. “It’s time for you to return to him,” he mused.

“Yes, but,” Cas tripped over the words he wanted to say and couldn’t bear to say.

Fortunately, Jack understood. Without another word, he took Cas’ face in his hands. For a moment, their eyes glowed brightly, then Castiel’s dimmed to their customary shade of blue. When Jack’s golden aura had faded as well, he pulled away from Cas. He glanced down at the slim vial now slung around his neck by a black cord. The substance within sparkled, swirled, its hue a dazzling, electric blue-white. It looked like lightning in a bottle.

Cas swept his son into a crushing embrace. “Thank you,” he wept.

“You can always come home,” Jack told him.

Cas pulled back. “No. Where I’m going is home.” He smiled through the tears rushing down his cheek. “Goodbye, Jack. I love you.”

He rather felt than heard Jack’s reply, as he crossed from the celestial plane to the mortal realm. He stood now on that same sidewalk. Far to his right, Sam lifted Eileen, carrying her bridal-style into her home, letting the door slam behind them. To his left, a long black car. He gripped the passenger door handle, pulled it open. The hinges squeaked. He folded himself inside before turning to the driver.

Dean looked every bit as awed as Cas felt. This was right.

Before he could say anything, even so much as a simple “Hello, Dean,” he found himself in Dean’s arms. Where he belonged.

[venactricisfics]

Malibu Desert

Surprises

Mayans Based Story. Adult Content

Master List

Sixteen

My body found the warmth of Bishop and I curled myself into it. At some point, the fire had burned out and the cabin caught a slight chill. He stirred awake feeling my cold feet rub against his leg. 

"You need socks, querida?" He asks with an exaggerated shiver. 

"Nope, " I snuggle closer, "I have you to keep me warm." 

"Your feet are giving me frostbite, " he kisses the top of my head. "Let me get another fire going. Can't have you getting sick." I tremble a little as he lifts the blanket. 

"I like having you all to myself, " I rest my head on my hand as I watch him move around the room. "I don't like sharing." 

"Good, " he stirs the fire, "I'm all yours for the next few days." 

"I thought we were leaving to go home tomorrow, " I respond. 

"Well sort of, " he says then climbs under the covers with me, "I have a surprise for you tomorrow."

"Now you've got me intrigued. What is it?"

I let him roll me to my back, his lips dancing over my neck while his fingers tangle in my hair causing the thought to vanish from my head. He focuses his attention on the pulse in my neck. Licking and sucking the sensitive skin, igniting every cell in my body.  "What was I saying?" I let out a soft moan as his thumb circles my nipple to hardened peek. 

“You weren’t,” he moves back up to my lips, “you were letting me kiss you.”  I smile into the kiss.  Losing myself in it. I wrap my arms around him.  My hands move over the muscles in his shoulders and my legs wrap around his. My fingers squeeze tight as he slides inside me.  Our lips and bodies moved together slowly, passionately.  In perfect sync with one another.  Skin touching so close it was hard to tell when one stopped and the other began.  

He lifts my leg up so he can sink deeper inside me with a groan. His rhythm was slow and deliberate.  He made me feel every inch of him.  My body trembled beneath him as a white light started to shine behind my eyes. My mouth fell open in a silent moan and I squeezed tight around him.  He keeps moving as the ripples of pleasure course through me.  He thrusts once more hard before filling me full.  He kisses me again, still inside me. “God you are beautiful,” he says brushing my hair from my face.  

I feel my cheeks flush, “Stop.” 

“I’m serious,” he tells me with a smile, “that face you make when you cum. I’d take a picture of that if you’d let me.” 

“You’d show your crew that would you?” I ask letting my hands rest on his face. 

“No, that’s a part of you I want all to myself,” he replies as he lays on his back, pulling me to his side.

“Good,” I rest my head on his chest, letting myself get lulled by the beating of his heart. “I don’t want anyone else seeing me like that but you.”

“Get some sleep, querida, we’re heading back to Santo Padre tomorrow,” he kisses the top of my head.

“And my surprise?” I look up at his face.

“Yes,” he kisses my lips, “and your surprise.”  

_____  

"We need to get on the road, " Bishop calls down the hall. 

"I'm almost ready, " I apply a layer of lip gloss as I grab my stuff from the bathroom and stuff in my bag. "I thought we were waiting for Hank and Creeper."

"We're meeting Hank in Oakland, " he says taking the bag from me, "Creeper will be here in an hour or so and get your bags to take home. Let's go." 

"Why are you in such a rush?" I quirk a brow as I slide my arms in my leather jacket. Even though it was a warm day, I had to dress for the slide, not just the ride. 

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, "You'll see." Bishop's hand trails down my arm to take mine, leading me out to his bike. 

Forty-five minutes later we pull to a stop outside of the Oakland clubhouse. My face flushed seeing Angel's bike sitting outside. I knew in my gut he would find some way to tease me. Fortunately, I didn't have to face the Reyes brother, Hank met us outside. 

"Good morning, " I give the biker a warm smile, "do you know where we're going?"

"Yes, " he straps his helmet on and swings a long leg over his bike.

"You want to share that information?" I ask.

"Nope, " he gives me a smile in return, "don't worry, cariña, you'll find out soon enough." 

"Your man is unbreakable, " I rest my hands back on Bishop's side as we pull out again. 

"That's why he's my man, " Bishop calls over the roar of the bike. I knew that smirk of his was spread across his lips, even if I couldn't see it. 

Couple hours into the ride I give Bishop’s side a squeeze, “I need to stop.” I call out over the road noise.  

“Gonna stop for gas in fifteen, can you wait?” he calls back.  I nod in response.  We take the San Bernardino exit and pull into a gas station.  

“I’ll have the guy turn the pumps on for you,” I peck his lips quickly before I start toward the door, “Need anything else?” 

“Pack of smokes,” he reaches for his wallet.  

“I got it,” I didn’t give him time to protest before I pull open the door and step through the door with a jingle then say to the clerk behind the counter, “Hey, my guy and his friend are filling up on two and four.  Will you turn on the pump? I’ll be right back,” I point to the ladies’ room sign.   “Sure thing,” the clerk replies.  A few minutes later I step back out of the bathroom feeling so much better, right into a giant. He wasn’t thick like Hank.  He was just a wall of fucking muscle and hair.  “Excuse me,” I try to step by the guy but he steps in front of me to block my path.  He wore a navy vest, under he had a blue long-sleeved t-shirt with Swole Boys scrolled down the arm. 

“Your ole man didn’t give a courtesy call again when riding through our turf. You need to get the fuck out of here,” he barked. 

“Really?” I quirk a brow and push past him, “So you couldn’t take your bullshit grievance up with him outside,” I motion to the doors, “so you waited to jump me when I came out of the bathroom. Your mother must be so proud.” I walk toward the counter, pulling my wallet from my jacket pocket.  His meaty fingers curl around my arm and squeeze tight.  A bell jingles over the door. “Are you sure you want to do that?” I ask.  

“Take your hand off her,” Bishop’s voice unmistakable, “if you want to keep it attached to your fucking body.”  The Swole Boy dropped his hand and took a step closer to Bishop who was shadowed by Hank. He stood a good six inches taller but Bishop still squared off.  I had zero doubt about who would come out ahead so I paid the clerk for gas and cigarettes as I watched the scene take place in the security mirror.  I dropped a couple twenties in the leave a penny take a penny cup by the cash register, for the inconvenience. 

“Make the fucking call next time,” the muscle head backed down seeing that he was outnumbered he pushed out the door.  

“Call Packer, time to put a fucking end to the Swole Boys,” Bishop says to Hank before turning in my direction, “you ok, querida?”

"I'm fine, baby, " I tell him, "what is a Swole Boy?" I quirk a brow, "And why do you need Packer to take care of him?" 

"He is one of about a dozen, " Hank says, "dealt with them before."

"Should we wait for Taza and the others?" I asked walking back to the bikes. 

"They'll meet us at their gym, " Bishop said. "Just need to stash you somewhere."

"I'm not an old joint or some porn magazine you've got to stuff under your mattress, " I respond narrowing my eyes at him. 

"This is club shit, " he says back sternly. "Not up for fucking discussion." I knew there wouldn’t be a debate when he spoke to me like that. As much as I hated it, I knew he was right.  

“There’s a diner,” I point across the lot one direction, “or there’s a mall.” I point across the road,” Where do you want to stash me? Guess you could put me in the bus station locker.” 

“Your closet is full, hermosa,” he pulls me close, “shouldn’t take too long to handle this shit. Then we’ll be on our way.”  My arms slide around his neck and I press my lips to his, “Alright. Let me know you’re ok.” 

"I'll take care of him, " Hank says giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

"Prospect will keep you company while I'm gone, " Bishop says as he mounts his bike and straps on his helmet. On queue, EZ rolls up behind him. I put on my helmet and squeeze behind EZ on his single-seater. 

It was a little harder on the ass than Bishop's but we made it across the lot to the small diner. I didn't realize how hungry I was until the smell of burgers on the grill filled my nose. 

"Order whatever you want, " I tell him as we sit down and I flip open the menu, "I got it."

"Don't think so, " he said, "Bishop would crack my jaw if I let you pay for me." 

"I'll handle Bishop, " I reply. "I was supposed to have him to myself for a few more days and well, the Swole Boys happened."

I tapped out after eating my way through a plate of chili fries. I glanced at my phone, nothing from Bishop or any of the other guys. "Have you heard anything?" 

"Nope, " he wiped his mouth and dropped his napkin on the table. "Nothing, yet. Don't worry it hasn't been that long."

"Don't touch it, " I tell him when the waitress sets the check down, "I'll break your hand." I hand her back the check and my card as EZ's phone vibrates. 

"They just left the Reapers, " he says. 

I look at my phone, "I don't have signal in here. I'm gonna step out for a minute."

"Alright, " he slides out of the booth. I didn't ask for an escort but it seemed as though I was getting one. I signed the slip and tuck my card back in my wallet.  Once I step outside my phone chimes with missed text and messages. 

I bring my phone to my ear to listen to Bishop's voice, "I know you're pissed our plans got sidetracked. I'll be back soon to make it up to you. Love you, querida." I smile hearing various voices in the background teasing him about being pussy whipped.  

My smile fades when a hand clamps over my mouth and pulls me back into a wall of muscle. I drop my phone and dig my manicured nails into his forearm. My hips swivel to the side and I lean forward. Every lesson Gilly thought me racing through my mind. I slam my booted heel on his toe as I turn back slamming my elbow into his face. He released me from his grasp to cup his broken nose in his hand. 

I catch my surroundings seeing that EZ had his own attacker in a headlock. 

Swole Boys. 

"Don't you guys take a fucking hint?" I step back and straighten my shirt. The buzz of sports bikes makes me shudder in disgust.  They didn't hold the raw power of a Harley.  I lift my eyes finding a semicircle of blue sports bikes around us. “Shit,” I mutter feeling slightly less confident when surrounded by a dozen muscle-bound guys.  I take a few steps back so that I’m almost shoulder to shoulder with EZ.  Looking to him for an idea on how to get out of this fucking mess. 

“There are a couple of ways we can play this,” EZ says in a bold voice, “A. You can use your deductive reasoning and ascertain that there is no way you can walk away from this scenario unscathed. Or B. You can avoid all logic and cognitive reason and they’ll,” he nods his head behind them, I smile as the roar of Harley’s comes into earshot, “they’ll put an end to your fucking club.” 

Bishop with the Mayans and Packer with his Reaper Crew entered the lot in an impressive force.  They each had a pistol raised aimed at the backs of the heads of each of the Swole Boys. 

“Which one of you touched her?” Surprisingly the question came from Packer and not Bishop.  He chuckles seeing the blood pouring out of one of their noses looking from me back to EZ.  “Which one of you did that?” 

“That one was her,” EZ answered. 

“You got your ass handed to you by an ole lady?” Packer laughed and turns back to Bishop, “We might not’ve been needed, your girl would have taken out the whole lot of ‘em.” 

“I do appreciate the assist,” I respond, “I would hate to crack a nail.” 

Bishop steps between the bikes and tilts my face up looking me over. “Are you hurt, hermosa?”

“I’m fine,” I glance down at my phone on the ground, screen cracked all to hell, “but my phone isn’t.”  I lean my face into his palm, “But I’m getting better now.”

“That the same fucker from the gas station?” he asks looking at the Swole boy now sporting a broken nose and a limp. 

“That’s him,” I respond.  Bishop raises his gun and pulls the trigger, blowing a hole through his hand. 

“All of you, get the fuck out of here,” Packer shouts then directs his voice at the leader of their group, “we will be meeting soon.”

 After a few bro hugs, I find myself seated again on the back of Bishop’s bike. He brings my palm to his lips before letting it rest on his side, “I was worried when you didn’t answer your phone.” 

“I had no signal inside the diner,” I tell him, “I guess I finally have to get a new one.” 

“You needed it, querida,” he responds as the engine of his motorcycle roars back to life. “We’ll get it tomorrow, we have just enough time to get where we’re going.” 

“Where are we going?” I ask loudly. I give his side a squeeze knowing he was ignoring me with a smile stretched across his face.  We road the rest of the way to Santo Padre in the usual formation with the rest of the Mayans.  It was safer that way.  Just in case.  We passed the turnoff toward my house and head out in the desert toward Vicki’s place. Why was going here such a secret?

The Mayans continue toward Vicki’s and Bishop veered down another desert road.  Then through an open gate.  In the center was a large ranch style house.  And that’s where he pulled to a stop. 

“Why are we here?” I ask, taking his hand to climb off the bike. 

“Go inside, take a look,” he responds.  I give him a look then walk up the steps to the door. Surprised to find the door unlocked when I turned the knob.  I step inside the empty house.  The main room was massive.  Southwest style chandeliers hung from the tall ceilings.  I move through the place trying to figure out why we were here.  The trail of flowers starts in the hall. I follow them further inside the house.  It carries me through the door of what must be the master suite.  And the only room with furniture in it. 

A bed.  

In the center was a folded piece of paper.  My eyes water when I read it, “I want you to live here with me.” I turn back to find him standing in the door waiting for my answer. 

“I didn’t buy it, yet,” he said, “I wanted to make sure you liked it first. But I have to let Antonia know in a few days.” 

“The mayor?” I quirk a brow.  He nods.  I knew they had a history.  I hadn’t asked before.  “You sure you want to live together?”

“Sweetheart, we practically do now,” he smiles, “I don’t have enough room in my house for all your shi… your stuff.  And as much as I love your place it’s very you.” He closes the space between us and slides his arms around me, pulling me close,   “This place we can make ours. Or if you hate it we can find something else, I just want to be with you.” 

“Here,” I tell him, “or wherever you are, is where I want to be.”

[ohtheseboysilove]

The moon, the stars, are nothing without you [ Roger Taylor x F!Reader]

Words : 2,500 K +

Warnings : angst, so much angst, it’s only angst, car accident, death, mention of blood

Summary : Reader is involved in a terrible car accident. Her last thoughts are for her husband and their kids.

Note : Don’t hate me please but I’m such in angst mood recently, god. I’m sorry this is just pure sadness, nothing else. I listened to the song Lay me down by Sam Smith during my writting, the feels this man give me, insane. Bruuuh im so sad. 

Masterlist & Requests

(im fucking angry bc the spaces I let between the sentences appear on the tumblr website but not on the tumblr app on my phone, this is so ugly grrr, tell me if it show in one block for you ???)

@/ none of these gifs are mine xx

You couldn’t move, your body was out of control. You couldn’t see, your vision was blurred by the shock and the blood flowing from your forehead. You couldn't hear anything except the incessant buzzing echoing through your ears. You were cold, so cold. And exhausted, you eyelids were so heavy suddenly, you tried to fight the sleep but it was useless. You vaguely felt someone touching your face, talking to you but none of these words made any sense. Something cleaned your vision and then you saw it. The taxi where you were few minutes prior, completely and violently crushed. A white sheet covering a body next to it. You saw the horrified faces of the people looking at you, from the other side of the road. You saw the sticky scarlet liquid forming a large puddle around your body, the intense scent of metal made your stomach churned sickly. You could literally feel the blood leaving your frame, the cold and exhaustion replacing the usual warm and energy running through you. You knew what was going on. The inevitable and cruel Grim Reaper was coming for you, the shadow of her black cloak slowly making her way through your vision. You weren’t ready for her, not now, not so soon. You had so much thing you wanted to do. But no one escaped her. You felt a tear rolling on your face, rejoining the drops of blood and you couldn’t make the difference between them. Then another one, again and again. You cried, desperately and painfully, the agonising wait was breaking your heart. You coughed weakly, feeling blood escaping your mouth and you knew it wasn’t a good sign at all. It was the end of the road for you and you cried even harder. Not because you were dying, no. Because you thought of all the peoples you let behind you.

Roger, your amazing husband. Your two beautiful daughters. Your newborn son, he was so young...You were abandoning them.

You slowly felt your eyes closed and your last moment with your family came to your mind, your last thought were for them.

“Roger, are you sure you can handle the kids alone ?” You asked a bit hesitant. Roger was a wonderful father but three whole days just him and your three kids...you were worried. “I can come back tomorrow morning if–“

You should have stay,

“Darling, relax” Your husband pressed a kiss on your cheek with a cocky smile. “You had the kids all by yourself for the last three months when I was away, touring” He intertwined your fingers and pressed them in a reassuring gesture. “You deserved your spa weekend, alright ? We gonna be fine, I can do it honey.”

They’re gonna be fine, Roger promised you,

You smiled fondly and nodded eagerly. “I know you can do it Rog, you’re the best dad” You looked at the little bundle in his arms, your six months baby boy was tugging on his father’s necklace with his tiny fists which completely melted your heart. “And the best husband too” You gave him a sweet kiss, his hand gently rubbing your tense neck.

If only you had know it was your last time in his arms…

“You damn right, I am !” He grinned and took your bag in his hand walking toward the door. “Come on, I don’t want to see your pretty ass back here until you’re completely relaxed” You pouted and peppered your son’s face with small kisses. “Girls ! Come say goodbye to Mommy !”

If you had know you would never see their pretty faces again...

You gave a tight hugs to your daughters and swallowed nervously, you never had been away from your last born for so long, your heart sank in your chest as you already missed your little family.

And you will never stop missing them,

“I bought some infant milk  if mine isn’t enough for the weekend so you should be fine” Roger rubbed his palm on your cheek, listening to you with a sweet smile. “You still got the list with all the important numbers on it, right ?”

It should have been enough until your return...but you would never come back,

“Yes, darling. I even got the spa number, I will call you everyday, me and the kids, telling all about our exciting adventures.

The phone will ring but you wouldn’t answer it,

“Don’t forget our little angle can’t sleep without his green blanket, the one with–“

The smell of your newborn baby still lingered in your nose,

“The one with a turtle on it, I know honey” He cut you with a quick kiss on your mouth.

The taste of Roger’s lips was drowning under the metallic one,

“And please brush the girls’ hairs or they gonna have horrible knots the day after and it’s really a nightmare to deal with” You rambled for few more minutes about everything you could think of, “Do we got enough nappy? I should check just to be sure–“

You would never braid the beautiful hairs of your amazing girls,

“Darling, breath” He chuckled gently and rubbed his nose against yours, his large hand caressing your waist, making sure he didn’t crush the little one still in his arms. “I promise you, I can handle it. And when you come back, we’re gonna call the travel agency and set up holidays somewhere were they put little umbrella in our cocktails, just you and me. No kids and no clothes on.” He winked and you blushed slightly. After all these years this cocky bastard could still make your cheeks burned easily.

You could still feel the warm of his hand on your waist,

“Can we go back to the house you rented for our honeymoon ? I swear this is the paradise on earth” You hummed happily against his lips.

You were breaking your promise to renew your wedding vows every five years,

“Hot weather and sandy beach, babe, I’m definitively in” You both chuckled, memories of the two weeks you spent there few years ago, you certainly had a good time. “We could even try for a baby number four, hmm ?”He rubbed your empty stomach with a cheeky smile.

Of course you would have carry his baby,

“In your dream, Taylor. Three kids is enough” You replied as you shook your head, an amused grin on your lips.

But he would never know you weren’t serious when you said no,

“Alright, if you say so” He rolled his eyes dramatically and pushed you to the door, “Now go, your taxi is probably here”

This stupid taxi, you should have take your own car,

“Alright, I love you” You gave a deep and loving kiss to your incredible husband and the twins made a disgusting noises, Roger shushed them away with a laugh.

Roger’s wonderful laugh resonating one more time in your ears,

“We love you, darling. See you in three days” The blond smiled widely and waved a little goodbye with the tiny hand of your son.

I love you too my loves, so much,

You blew them a kiss and finally get out the house, ready for three relaxing days, your heart beating heavily in your chest. You knew Roger and the kids will be fine.

Roger and the kids will be fine but for you it was over.

Roger didn’t answer the phone call from the hospital that night, he was trying to put the terrible twins in bed, so they called your second emergency contact, Freddie, your best friend. Sadly, he was the one who had to rang Roger, multiple times, until he answered, annoyed :

“What ?” He sighed at his friend and band mate’s voice, “Freddie I’m trying to put the girls–“

“Roger, I’m at the hospital, you need to come here immediately” The blond felt his heart sank at the broken voice of his friend, he was always the cheerful one.

“Are you okay ? What’s going on ? Are you hurt Fred ?”

“It’s not about me...it’s (Y/N)” He swallowed loudly, trying to repress the sobs growing inside him. “Please, I can’t do that through the phone, come to the hospital.

Roger froze at your name, fear shaking his body from the head to the toes.

“Freddie, tell me what’s going on ? Give the phone to (Y/N), I want to speak to her” He was freaking out, Freddie wasn’t clear about what was wrong with his other half and couldn’t believe something happen to you, not you.

“Roger, called a fucking cab and come here, Brian and John are on there way too” Freddie let a choking sob escaping his mouth, he knew their lives will never be the same.

“I want to speak to my wife Freddie !” He yelled through the phone, his eyes watering dangerously as the idea of something terrible happened to you.

“Daddy, what’s wrong with uncle Fred ?” Roger repressed a sob at the sight of his daughters, worry painting of their pretty faces.

“I’m coming Freddie” He hanged the phone with a shaky hand. “Uncle Freddie is fine but we need to go to the hospital girls, now.” He walked to his son bedroom and put his sleepy frame in his travel seat, attaching it carefully then they all went to the entrance of the house, the girls following quietly. They knew something was wrong.

“Why are we going to the hospital ? Is Mommy okay ?”

Roger closed his eyes at his daughter’s question then breath quietly, “I don’t know, sweetheart. I don’t know”

The hallway of the hospital was endless and he finally reached the desk to ask about his wife, he heard Brian’s voice from behind :

“Rog” He was crying silently, his face broken in a devastated grimace.

Roger walked to him, his face pale and devoured by the worry.

“Where she is ?” John and Freddie joined them, both of their faces wet and sorrowful. “Tell me what’s going on, please” Roger whispered with a broken voice, thinking at the worst possibility.

“Hey girls, would come with me and have a little snack with us ?” Veronica gently asked, a little bit off but the twins immediately nodded, she gently took the seat with the sleepy baby inside and left toward the waiting room.

It was only Roger, Freddie, John and Brian. None of them wanted to talk, breaking the sad new to their brother.

“The taxi was driving too fast, he lost the control of the car, you know with all the rain” Freddie murmured slowly, pressing a friendly hand on his shoulder. “He couldn’t avoid the truck coming from the other way. They tried to save (Y/N) but...they couldn’t”

“I’m so sorry Roger” John whispered to his friend and wiped the tears on his face, he wasn’t the time for that, Roger needed their help.

“Is she dead ?” The drummer didn’t recognised his weak voice. “(Y/N) is dead ?” He breathed heavily as the information slowly processed to his brain.

“Yes” Brian chocked and immediately caught Roger as his knees gave up under the weight of this simple word.

He hugged tightly his brother, apologising between painful sobs. The blond broke down in his arms, crying from the bottom of his soul, the grief burning a hole in his chest. He couldn’t believe you were dead. You were supposed to live so many more years, watching your kids grow up, graduate, have their first love, grow old with Roger in this cute little house in the deep english countryside that both of you wanted to buy for your old days...He couldn’t face the life without you by side. You were his whole world and now you were gone.

Roger asked to see you, the boys walked him to your hospital bed where you were laying, pale and lifeless. He didn’t recognise you at first, the rough bruises and concussions hiding your usual pretty face but he knew it was you. Your chipped nail polish that you asked him a million time to do and your beautiful wedding ring were still there, attesting of the truth of the devastating situation. It was you.

Roger grabbed your body, you seemed so thin and small in his arms, and he enveloped you in a last embrace, clutching to you desperately as the stream of tears kept falling in his cheeks.  The boys gave him some intimacy for the goodbye, heartbreaking and infinitely unfair. When it was time to leave after like it seemed just a minute for Roger, John gently rubbed his back, telling him his children were reclaiming him, they wanted their dad.

“I love you baby, so much. And I’m going to miss you until the day I die”  He took a deep breath, begging himself to stop crying. Your children needed him and you would be so mad if he wasn’t here for them. “I know we will meet again my angel, if it’s not in this life, it will be in another one, I promise you”

The drummer reluctantly pressed a last kiss on your cold lips and let you go.

Roger and the children went to Freddy’s place for the night, at least. He didn’t tell the girls yet, he didn’t know how. Nothing never prepared him to announce to his six years old twins that their mom was gone, absolutely nothing. He will do it tomorrow, he hadn’t the strength right now. Freddie nicely put himself the girls in bed and left the baby with Rog, sleeping peacefully next to him. His gaze drifted in the room, even if he was exhausted he couldn’t sleep, not with this pain crushing his heart.  His eyes fell on a little paper on the floor, right under his coat. He stoop up quickly, knowing immediately what it was. He grabbed the note and chocked a sob when he recognised your handwriting. You used to put little post-it in the house or in his pockets with sweet words on it, telling you loved him or to break a leg for his gig. You must have put in this morning before you left for your weekend. He rubbed his glassy eyes and read the note :

I hope you and the kids gonna have fun this weekend, please don’t burn the house when I’m away ! If you do, don’t forget to rescue our photo albums !

Ps : I’m kidding my love, I know you will rock it with our kids, your the best dad and husband I could wish for (even if you pretend to snore when the baby wake up in the middle of the night...yes I know, you’re an awful actor, stick to the drumming !)

I love you and I see you on monday xx

A noise between a sob and a laugh escaped Roger’s throat, a sad smile painting his tired features, even in the worst situation you could still make him smile.

“I love you too my pretty girl” He whispered, holding the note tightly against his pulsating chest, right above his broken heart. “So much”

[ikementally-deficient]

Advanced Entomology - Chapter 6: Chrysalis

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice/Love and Producer

Rating: Carolina Reaper (See Masterlist for rating descriptions)

Warnings: dubious/uninformed consent, see masterpost A/N

Due to the nature of the questionable consent in this fic, if you enjoy this story enough to reblog it, please reblog the masterpost rather than individual chapters.

Author’s Note: Second to last chapter! Our first occasion of sex in the traditional penetrative sense, I’m so proud of them. One more to go; I might get it written this weekend if all goes well, but time is an illusion, productive time doubly so, so who knows.

Also of note: I finally managed to work in the prompt that started this whole mess!

*************************************

He can tell there’s been something on her mind. When they go out, she casts sideways glances at him, thinking him oblivious. She hesitates before taking his hand in public. She flinches every time another woman passes by.

“What’s on your mind,” he asks her over tea.

She flushes, her eyes skittering away from his steady gaze. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He chuckles. “Of course you do.” He sips his tea, studying her over the rim of the cup. “You seem apprehensive, lately. Hesitant. As though you’re afraid you’re being watched, and judged.”

Her fingers fidget around the handle of her teacup. She sighs quietly. “Yes -- yes, I suppose I have.”

“Why is that?”

“Well --�� she trails off, still staring into her cup. He waits. When the rest of the sentence comes, it’s in a blurted rush. “I don’t know what you see in me.”

It’s rare that Lucien finds himself caught off guard. He stares at her, cup still tilted in mid-sip.

She continues. “You’re so intelligent, and educated, and -- and h-handsome -- and my audiences love you, and I’m just --” her voice lowers sadly, “I’m just me. Plain and boring.” She turns the cup in its saucer, refusing to look up. “I mean, I know you’re getting tired of me.”

Lucien tries to marshal his thoughts into some semblance of order. “What makes you say that?”

“We --” her eyes dart from side to side, checking that no one else in the cafe is listening. “We haven’t even had sex yet,” she whispers. “Not properly. And you’re never, you know --” She gestures vaguely to her own lap, “ interested .” Her forehead is glowing beet red.

Lucien puts his cup down slowly, precisely centering it on the saucer, before he answers her. “I’ve been holding back, you know. I didn’t want to rush you.” Too controlled. He never thought there was such a thing. “I’ve been very interested , but my self-control is quite good.”

She still doesn’t look up at him.

“Do you remember the night you couldn’t sleep, and asked me to tell you a story over the phone?”

She nods.

“The artist and the butterfly. The colourblind artist and the golden, glowing butterfly.” Lucien smiles warmly at her. “I don’t know if I can explain it in better words than those, but perhaps I can show you.” He rises to his feet and drops a few bills on the table before holding his hand out to her. “Will you indulge me?”

Her lashes are still lowered, but she looks up through them, the gleam of her golden eyes tantalizing him. “Of course, Lucien.”

They make a few purchases on the way home: an art store, for India ink and brushes. A theatre store, for gold makeup and sponges. Lucien slides his coffee table out of the way and lays down a sheet on the floor. He stands a large mirror at one end of the room. She watches his preparations with avid curiosity.

“Here,” he tells her. “Take off your clothes for me, and lie down on your stomach.” She is, as ever, obedient to his wishes.

She lies naked before him. Her head is turned to one side, pillowed on her folded hands. Her elbows are splayed out in a line with her shoulders, letting her scapulae rest flat against her ribcage. Her legs are straight. The soles of her feet face the ceiling, big toes resting against each other as her ankles supinate outwards.

“Ink me, Professor,” she murmurs into her hands.

********************************************************

The brush drips black ink as Lucien holds it over the pot, waiting for the excess to run off. He carefully studies his canvas in the meantime, contemplating the placement of the next line.

His work is a delicate tracery that stands in stark relief against her pale skin: the careful symmetry of butterfly’s wings rooted between her shoulders, spreading across her upper arms and down her back, wrapping around her ribs and ending in a gentle curve around the undersides of her buttocks.

She’s been lying motionless as he works, for nearly an hour judging by the movement of the sun. Her breathing is so even and relaxed that Lucien thinks she’s fallen asleep. He wipes the brush clean and lays it down, then replaces the lid of the ink bottle. Finally he sits cross-legged to examine his work, losing himself in the intricate tracery of costal and sub-costal veins.

“Are you finished, Professor?” Her sweet voice breaks into his reverie.

“The first stage,” he replies. “The ink should be dry soon.”

She hums in reply, wordlessly comfortable.

“Are you warm enough?”

“Mmmhmm. The sun is beautiful on my skin.” She opens her eyes languorously, and he leans into her field of vision. Her answering smile is warmer than the sunbeam they’re resting in, and he gives into the urge to lie down on his stomach perpendicular to her, so he can breathe kisses onto her eyes and mouth. She giggles, a delicious ripple of joy which starts a warm liquid wave in his stomach that melts a path straight up his chest and face. He rests his chin on his forearms and smiles at her, a spontaneous smile that feels completely foreign on his face.

“I had the dream again,” she sighs, and all the warmth in him freezes solid.

“Which dream?”

“You know, the one from before --” her foot kicks in lieu of waving a hand. “The one with Kiro and the fog and that black haired woman.”

Lucien forces himself to breathe normally. “Was it the same?”

She shakes her head minutely, obedient to his warning about the drying ink. “No. Kiro wasn’t there this time. You were with me instead.”

The ice in his chest cracks; he can feel his heart start to beat again. “Oh.” He breathes in and out, once, twice, thrice before he thinks his lungs can carry on without active direction. “Good. That means I’ll be there to protect you.”

That means Zeus has taken his warning to heart. Helios will not be there to strip her of all his careful conditioning. That means she’ll still trust him, at the end.

Overwhelming relief sends a shudder through him, and he’s thankful her eyes are closed again so she doesn’t see. He watches her silently, memorizing every detail of her dainty features, currently blissfully relaxed and unaware of his tremor.

After a few minutes she rouses enough to look at him again. “Is the ink dry yet?”

He makes a show of examining her back, lightly dabbing his fingertips against the thick margins of her wings. “It seems to be. I can start the gold, now.”

He dampens a small sponge and begins working the shimmering pigment over her back, filling in each wing cell with iridescence that turns molten in the late afternoon sun. This is much faster work than inking the wings themselves, and Lucien finds himself working frantically, chasing the light across her. He feels a desperation in the pit of his stomach, a trepidation that isn’t soothed by the knowledge that he’ll be with her when she goes to the TV tower.

When he finishes, her entire torso is a beautiful blaze, resplendent and shining in the last of the light. He catches her hand, pulling her to her feet to stand in front of the mirror. He pulls her to face him and lifts her arms around his neck to show her the striation of the black veins as her wings flex and stretch. She cranes her neck over her shoulder to see her reflection. Her expression is a mixture of awe and delight.

“Do you see?” He demands hoarsely. He crushes her against his chest, heedless of the gold paint that smears into the weave of his shirtsleeves. “Do you see now what I see, when I look at you?” He turns her face to look up at him, begging for comprehension. All the other colours fade when he’s apart from her, but in his mind’s eye she is always golden and glowing. Her mouth falls open at his uncharacteristic intensity, but her gaze is compassionate and warm.

“Lucien, what’s scaring you?”

She doesn’t know. She can’t know, or everything will be ruined. Her awakening is so close now, and he doesn’t dare deviate from the plan. For the first time he regrets his choices, regrets his success in finding the Queen and preparing her for metamorphosis. He can’t find words to answer her, can’t bring himself to lie to her in this moment when she’s granted him such a tangible expression of his vision. Instead he slams his mouth against hers, claiming her in a fervid kiss. Her gasp of surprise only sparks fire in his belly. The voice of Ares ordering him to calm down and pull back is lost in the crackling inferno.

He bears her down to the floor and continues his voracious assault on her lips, not giving her a chance to protest. One hand tangles in her hair, the other fumbles urgently at his shirt buttons. Finally, impatiently, he yanks and hears buttons skitter across the floor as his shirt flies open. Small hands tug the tails free of his trousers and skim over his stomach to start pulling open his belt.

He grinds into her naked heat as she finds the button and zipper behind the buckle. He’s hard, rutting against her, the long months of self-restraint evaporated like water on a hot pan, leaving behind only the sizzle of need. She bites at his lower lip, not the tentative nips she’s essayed before, but a catch of sharp teeth and the taste of blood as she frees his cock and grabs his waist. She pulls him hard against her, and he slides up through her slippery folds, feeling the head of him rub along her nub. Her chest heaves under him and she releases his lip. He chases her mouth with his own teeth, before laying bruising kisses into her neck, moving down to the trapezius where he bites, hard, and rocks against her.

“ Lucien .” She gasps his name, husky and yearning, and he pulls back to look at her. “God, Lucien, please --!” Her nails drag lines of fire up his back and he pushes into her with no preamble. None is necessary: she’s wet and open and moaning wantonly with each thrust. She slides one hand into his hair and grips tight, as though fearing he’ll pull away. He returns to her mouth, panting into her, and grabs her other hand, lacing their fingers together against the floor. Her legs pull up around him and lock behind his lumbar vertebrae, pulling him deeper as she clenches around his cock. Lucien feels his eyes roll back in his head when his hips stutter.

“Not yet,” he hisses. He slides his free hand under her shoulders and lifts her with him as he pulls back into a sitting position. Suddenly her breasts are right at the level of his mouth, and he traps her against him to indulge himself in the plush roundness. She squeaks as he bites at the curving underside, but he feels her pulsing around him again. His ferocity isn’t frightening her. Just the opposite, in fact. He buries his face in her cleavage and sucks a red mark onto her sternum, branding her as his.

Lucien uses both hands to grasp her slender waist and lift, turning her on his cock until she’s facing the mirror, straddling his thighs. He spreads his knees, forcing her legs further open, and drags her back down to fully engulf him. His hands slide down her pelvis, gripping at her inner thighs hard enough to bruise before spreading her lips so she can see how he stretches her open.

“Do you see now?” He strokes her clitoris teasingly, and she jerks, driving her buttocks into him. “Do you feel how much I’ve wanted you, the fire you’ve lit inside me?” He wraps one arm across her pelvis and pins her to him, while the other hand keeps stroking, increasing in pressure and speed, until she’s shuddering around him, head fallen back on his shoulder and nails driving into his forearm. She’s entirely unable to speak; the only sound she makes is a keening wail while she tries to buck into him. His arm is an iron bar, holding her in exquisite torment. Finally he thrusts up into her and pinches her nub sharply. Her scream of ecstasy matches the violent clenching of her orgasm.

Lucien wastes no time in pushing her face-down to the floor and planting his hands under her shoulders. His abdomen slaps against her as he plunges in, whispering hotly in her ear. “You’re the only warmth in the world. You’re the only colour I see.” He can feel his thighs quivering and knows he’s close. “I can’t be without you.”

He groans gutterally as he comes, pounding against her helplessly until he feels empty and hollow. Breathing is difficult, and he rests his forehead against her spine. The gold paint is smeared everywhere, on her back and his chest and arms, but the ink wings are still precise and perfect.

He understands now that he fears losing her; not the Queen, but the woman wrapped around her. His butterfly.

[blankpaigefics]

Grim Reaper - Changbin

Genre: horror

Word Count: 965

Member: Changbin

Warnings: death, suicide

Note: this is part of a Halloween series called Tales of the Dead, collaboration with @hyunjinssmile! Half will be posted here and half on her page (that I will link here also). Also, I'm sorry I haven't had time to read over this and fix it up.

You remember the first time you saw him so clearly, as if you remove it every day. It was dark and cold and you were laying on the ground. He was standing above you, watching you with no expression. 

"Who are you?"

"My name is Changbin, and it is not yet time for you to leave this world."

He reaches out to you, pressing his cool fingers against your forehead. 

And then you wake up. You look around and find yourself in a hospital room, the monitor beeping steadily beside you. 

The doctors had told you that you had legally been pronounced dead for almost 3 minutes. It was a miracle you were alive. But you couldn't stop thinking about the face you saw on the other side. 

Once you were discharged from the hospital, you thought things would go back to normal, but you couldn't stop thinking about him. About Changbin. You were even beginning to see him in your dreams. 

You were riding the bus the next time you saw him. He was walking calmly behind a person in the bridge. The bus had come to a stand still in traffic, and so did Changbin, as the person he followed began to climb over the railing. You press your face against the window, watching the events unfold. 

You hear people begin to yell and call for help, trying to coax the person away from the ledge. But all you see is Changbin, standing beside the man at the edge of the bridge. Your eyes are locked on his form as he turns to look at you. 

Surprise briefly crosses his face as he notices you watching him. He then smiles at you gently before he leans forward, following the person over the edge of the bridge and towards the ground below. 

People scream as they watch the man take his own life, but all you can do is sit in shock. 

The grim reaper. That's what you had decided on. He had come to see you during your near death experience, and you saw him again when someone took their life. 

Your job. A nurse. You begin to see Changbin more and more often, and soon, you begin to spend short amounts of time together. One afternoon, he confirms your suspensions as you check on a sleeping patient. 

"Why didn't you take me?" You ask him. 

"It wasn't your time."

"But why? It should have been. The doctors said it was a miracle that I woke up."

He nods in agreement.

"Yeah, it was a miracle. It wasn't your time." 

"Why do I keep seeing you?"

Changbin glances around his surroundings. 

"I think you know why."

"Yeah but… how?"

He looks at you again. 

"You almost died. Permanently. You saw me. And now you'll always see me. Whenever you're around and there's not much time left."

"Not much time left for what?"

Changbin frowns at you as the monitor beside your patient begins to flatline. 

Your eyes grow wide as your spring into action. Doctors rush into the room to help revive the patient. You look up at Changbin as he reaches his hand out and presses it against the side of the patients face. Shortly after, they are declared dead. 

It becomes a morbid friendship with Changbin. Seeing his beautiful face makes you happy, but then you remember that seeing him is at the expense of another's life.

Working at a hospital, death isn't new to you, but with this new addition of Changbin, it becomes harder to handle, like seeing a good friend only on bad circumstances. 

You turn to see him walking beside you late one night as you stroll through the park. 

"This isn't far Changbin. I won't to spend time with you, without death being involved."

He sighs. 

"Me too. But it's not that easy. I have a job to do. It's-"

"I know. It's just, seeing you, I know something bad isn't far off. I don't want it to be like this. But I don't want to stop seeing you." 

"I'm sorry, but that's just the way it has to be now. There's nothing I can do to change that."

You go to speak again when you are interrupted by a howl in the distance. Your head snaps up in the direction of the sound. Was that the reason why Changbin was here?

"You should get home. It's not safe here." He informs you as he begins to walk along a different path. 

"Wait!"

Your call falls on deaf ears as the blood curdling scream cries through the park. 

---

You can't handle this relationship with Changbin. It's becoming a toll on your everyday life. You're always happy to see him, but it also breaks your heart. 

You're on your regular commute to work when you see him again. You feel your heart falter at the sight of him. Someone else was going to lose their life. Someone nearby. You glance around to find the person Changbin is following when you realise that he's looking directly at you. 

You hear shouts and cries of warnings, calling out to you, calling for help. 

You turn your head to the side to see a car swerving off the road and heading in your direction. You were meant to move out of the way, but your were frozen in place. 

You feel yourself panic as you turn back to Changbin. He's still watching you and you feel yourself smile. This was it. This was your end. There would no longer be the burden of seeing Changbin during your mundane day. 

Changbins eyes are soft as he smiles back at you, distracting you from the sudden pain as the impact of the car knocks you off your feet, turning your world dark. 

[manggojooz]

Lights

I just saw your appreciation post now but thank you so much!

I thought really hard about what song would be best for a fic and settled on Lights by BTS with either Jimin, Yoongi or Namjoon!

I’ve been having a Hell of a time working at the movie theater and waiting for my laptop to get fixed so I can properly begin writing again and been stressing super hard about college and a kpop school I’ll be going to in my 2nd or 3rd semester but this song just really resonated me; as did your post. It really made me smile lovely thank you so much for the inclusion!

Your writing is always such a treat to read and Take My Hands Now will probably always be in my top fics. Love you and keep doing what you do best- being you! 😘 -Sheridan

—

A/N: @sevenincubistolemyheart thanks so much for sending this Sheridan! What kind of kpop school are you going to? I saw that you got your laptop back! I hope you get to start writing again and doing what makes you happy =) even if there is a lot of stress it will all be worth it one day~ fighting! 

BTW it’s my first time writing a total supernatural au kind of thing, I hope it’s not too bad xD just posting the first draft coz I’m excited… will edit later kekek and so sorry the read more function is not working on my phone… 

English lyrics taken from here

Pairing: Jimin x reader 

Word count: 2.6k approx

Genre: supernatural au; psychopomp/reaper!Jimin; part angst part romance; i would consider it a happy ending (y)  

Warnings: mentions of death, references to suicide; all non-explicit though

—

You lay on your bed in the brightness of the morning sun that filtered in through the glass window etched into the slanted roof. This was the 154th Sunday you spent without him. 

Your phone buzzes next to you, there was no point checking it anymore. The only calls or messages you received were spam anyway. You should probably get some breakfast, but you let yourself lie in bed for a little longer, making up the excuse that the sun rays were too warm to walk away from. 

You tossed around and planted your face into the pillow, a gush of sourness running through the veins in your eyelids. Will he ever return to you? 

♫ “Sunday, when I can’t answer any calls or texts I’m not in the mood for anything Though not very often, I feel sick of it I feel a little helpless right now” ♫

—

You walked down the long spiraling stairs and out of the antiquated front door. You took a few steps back before looking up, the whiteness of the roof reflected the sunlight and made the tower look like it was glowing. 

“You are a lighthouse to me. But when I am not here, I wish you would be a lighthouse to whoever may need it”, his words resounded in the air. With that reminder, you trotted down the grayish path on top of the breakwater, heading towards the rocky coastline. 

In the time he has not been around, you had saved 29 people, pulling them from the icy water, just like he had done for you. 

♫ “But I still feel like I can save someone I hear your voice Within the noise, time stops We are connected by sound” ♫

—

Although it had been many years ago, that night remains vivid in your mind. You had closed your eyes, not wanting to see this world any more. Night times were the worst. In the darkness, the lights from each house, the light from each star, made each of them stand out more. Even as you were submerged in this darkness, the lights refracted through it. As if they were mocking you, the sole blackhole that did not allow brightness to exist. 

But the magic of light is this - even when you closed your eyes, it finds a way in, it penetrates through and it reaches you. 

“It’s not your time yet”, his voice was the most angelic. He has watched you for almost a year, month after month, and today he had been worried that it would be the last time. 

“Who are you?”, you coughed, hair and clothes all soaked. 

“Someone who is breaking the rules for you…”, he sits down next to you, the waves crashing into the rocks below. 

♫ “When I close my eyes In the darkness, your light  Lights the way for me We can walk forward without fear, you & I” ♫

—

His name is Jimin, and he’s been around for a long time, longer than he could remember. His sole purpose was to guide the souls lost at sea to the afterlife. It was a harrowing job at first, but as time went by, he gradually became desensitised. But you made him feel again.  

They only get to stay away from the sea one day in a month, and he had told you to wait for him in this lighthouse if you wanted to meet him again. This was his lighthouse, nobody else could enter, it helps him find the shore when he gets too tired or when everything becomes too disorienting. Even though it was unbelievable, even though you were somewhat afraid, you still waited and met him, that month, the next month, the month after. He was like the lighthouse keeping you away from hitting the rocks and drowning. 

“Why did you save me that night?”, you leaned against his shoulders comfortably snuggled in his embrace as you both sat on the bed. He was looking at the night sky through the glass roof, beams of light pulsing rhythmically towards the sea. 

“Because your soul was too bright”, he answered and you wondered if it was ironic since you had felt like your soul was hurting so much. He kisses your forehead gently, “thank you for being here, for being my lighthouse. Now I see the light so much better out at sea, because I know you are here, waiting for me.” 

♫ “You’re my light you’re my light Always shine into my heart You’re my light you’re my light No matter how far apart we are Your light shines on me” ♫

—

He tirelessly went back to sea the day after, flying with wings wider than an albatross. His wings were clipped on one side, and you had once asked him why. He told you there are souls who are kind, there are souls who are hurting, and there are souls who are evil. He was never to judge any of them, he only had to take them to the afterlife. But even then, he was often hurt by them. Even when people die, their souls don’t change much it seems. 

“Is it wrong if I say I love you?”, you hugged him before he left again, wanting to hold on to him just a little longer. 

“Love should never be wrong, Y/N. If it can be wrong then I guess I will be the first to be punished…”, he replied with a sadness in his eyes. His slender fingers pushes your hair away from your eyes, the sea breeze chilly, but his embrace always warm.  

♫ “All the angels who know pain Flying on damaged wings through the night Every time I’m thinking about love Every time I’m thinking about love” ♫

—

What kind of punishment does a person in love deserve? 154 Sundays of loneliness? 154 weeks of longing? And counting… 

You walked around shore the whole day, scanning around to see if there was anyone nearby. You put on your headphones as the sky turned darker and the first song which came on was too bright, so you skipped it and the next one too, until you reached one that was sorrowful enough. 

♫ “I don’t wanna listen to just happy songs I’ll face my loneliness, color my life Losing and gaining, but I’m still searching for something today” ♫

—

Why was this song so sorrowful? Was it the lyrics? Was it the tune? Or was it because he once sang it to you in his soft mellow voice? 

The things you used to think about flood back to you again. They nibble at your soul again. The darker the night grew, the darker the voices became. You crouched down, breathes short and fast, hands clutching the part of your chest where your heart rests beneath. It hurts so much, how do people endure such darkness? 

“I’m your light”, the lyrics of the song chants, and it was as if you could hear his voice singing it to you. You cannot give up. He said he can see the light better because you were there, you wouldn’t want him to lose the only light he has in the darkness either. 

♫ “Yeah I believe that things will change No one is perfect Even this moment has its own meaning And we are connected by sound” ♫

—

You continued walking down the coastline, that was when you see her struggling in the water. You ran into the freezing water without a second thought as she loses consciousness. Diving into the sea, you looked around for her but the water was pitch dark around you and there was an intense fear within you. 

The salty seawater was starting to sting your eyes and you closed them momentarily. When you opened your eyes again, one of the rotating beams from the tower flashes right into the water further away from you and finally you spot her floating there. 

You swam across as fast as you could and dragged her back to shore. 

♫ “When you close your eyes In the darkness, my light  Lights the way for you Let’s walk forward without fear, you & I” ♫

—

You wrapped her in the blankets and let her take the bed. She was shivering the whole night but you nursed her well with hot water bottles, warm milk and medicine.

As she finally went to sleep, you look up at the flashing light, thanking it. For keeping you alive, for keeping her alive. 

♫ “I’m your light I’m your light Always shine into your heart I’m your light I’m your light No matter how far apart we are Your light shines on me”♫

—

You didn’t sleep at all that night. This was the 30th person you saved. Some of them went in by accident, some of them regretted that they attempted, some of them unrepentant and you could only wonder if they will look for other ways.

But you learnt one thing. You weren’t alone after all, life wasn’t only mean to you. If darkness was a diseases, then light is probably the cure. The question was how do we find our cure? For each person it must be a different path, or perhaps, the cure finds us sometimes. 

You thought you had found yours, but you never knew that it was so elusive. Was he afraid to come back because you had fallen in love with him? He belongs, quite literally, in an entirely different world from you after all. The flashes of light overhead reminded you of why you were here. 

If not for him, you would have left this world a long time ago, without ever experiencing what it was like to be loved. Until the day he says it to you himself, until the day he tells you to leave, you will willingly stay here as his lighthouse. 

♫ “I never thought there’d be a sleepless night Turns out they weren’t lies And it made me get stronger What is love? If there’s an answer, I wanna know right now I’m breaking down I can see there’s light inside” ♫

—

Her name was Lucy, she lost her job and her boyfriend left her for another girl. 

“They always say we decide what it means to be happy”, she sobbed as you were making her breakfast the next morning, “and I had decided. It was my dream to marry him and have a family… and I was happy just being the team manager at my company. I had decided what makes me happy. But then… what’s the point… it’s all lies…” 

Sometimes when we settle down in happiness, life throws a curve ball and wrecks everything. “These are just growing pains”, “everything will pass”, “you will find happiness in other things”, you were often consoled in this way too. 

But you knew better than that, some things are just irreplaceable. 

“Hold it in your heart then, the darkness that is the happiness taken away from you”, you sat opposite her, handing her a plate of toast. 

“If you can’t let it go then keep it there. The more darkness you hold, the more precious you will find the light to be”, you continued. 

The people who lost the most are also the ones who treasure what they have the most. 

♫ “Dawn will come to the darkest of nights Overcome, even the future We won’t stop from now on Decide for yourself what it means to be happy Every day, take a step to grow up” ♫

—

A week passes and Lucy stayed with you. You two would walk along the shore every day, she even tried fishing one day, although she only ended up getting angry that none of the fishes were taking her bait. 

“Are you waiting for someone here?”, she asks you suddenly over dinner. 

“No… I just stay here alone”

“I know what it’s like to be waiting for someone you love. You don’t have to hide it… I can sense it whenever you look out at the sea. I hope he comes back soon”, her eyes looked straight into yours, just like a torch shining right in. 

♫ “But it’s okay sometimes To show weakness It’s okay to be you Don’t lie to yourself any more Everything connects by sound” ♫

—

“I think it’s time for me to leave, I should go now”, Lucy beams at you and waved. 

You smiled back at her and told her to be careful on her way. 

“If you are going to keep staying here, maybe you should fix the light…”, she suggests candidly. 

“What do you mean? The light is not spoilt, don’t you see it flashing every night?”, you frowned in befuddlement. 

“Really? I thought it wasn’t working, I didn’t see anything at all”, she became even more puzzled and you grew increasingly concerned. 

♫ “When I close my eyes In the darkness, your light  Lights the way for me We can walk forward without fear, you & I” ♫

—

You stood at the junction where the breakwater meets the shore. The sun was setting, and on cue, the lights flashes from the roof of the white tower. Lucy couldn’t see the lights? Why? You felt a chill down your spine and looked around. 

The air was as still as the impending night but you spotted a man standing halfway on the breakwater. How? You didn’t see anyone walking down the breakwater and you are standing right here at the entrance. 

“Sir, can I help you?”, you walked up to the man who looked rather aged. 

He chuckles softly, the sounds rolling in his chest, before saying, “Sometimes it is the other person that needs help. Maybe I could help you with something?” 

You were so confused but you decided what’s the harm of just asking him one question first, “Hmmm… do you perhaps see the lights from this lighthouse?”

“Do you?”, he asks cryptically.  

“I do… I see it every night”, you answered. 

“And what do you think the lights mean?”

You did not answer, and he smiles knowingly at you. 

“So long as the lights keep flashing, it means that he is alive. Don’t worry about that, just keep doing what you do now and he will come back”, he discloses. 

“Who- wait… you mean… are you talking about Jimin?”, your eyes widen. “Do you know him? Where is he now? Tell me please…”, you begged him. 

“You can’t go to where he is now… he is receiving his punishment, just like you are”, he answers. 

“What for? I… is it because of me?”, you voice began to shake. 

“It is because of you… he should have sent you on, but he broke the rules. Now he is being punished. So, all the more, keep his post well and wait for him. That’s all I’m here to say”, he casually instructed you. 

“What am I supposed to do? How long will he take to come back? What if I can’t wait until then? And I can’t possibly do what he does…”, you quibbled, reminding him of your mortal limitations. 

“Why wouldn’t you be able to? You have already been doing a little of his job for a while now”, he looked up at the lighthouse, “… and why do you think you can see the light but other people can’t?” 

♫“You’re my light you’re my light Always shine into my heart You’re my light you’re my light No matter how far apart we are Your light shines on me” ♫

—

You still had no idea when Jimin would come back. But you will wait for him, so long as the light flashes every night. 

And now you understand, you were not a light that was saving lives, you were only saving souls. 

♫“How far apart we are Your light shines on me”♫

[popliar]

namseok fic links pt 2

more namseok fic links! for namseok_week on twt

this post includes a ton of namseok+others ot3 links too!

usual disclaimer: I bookmark so many things and sometimes I don’t remember why… but these are all readable and worth a click imo!

part 1 namseok links is here | other fic links here 

Hoseok/Namjoon

Strike A Pose - hope_and_hardship Hoseok/Namjoon. "Hoseok and Namjoon are Instagram models who are both just starting to make a name for themselves. It turns out they have a lot in common. The trouble is they don’t like each other very much." 10,500 words.

Happy Friendship Time - almostblue (fictionalaspect) Hoseok/Namjoon. "Namjoon takes a deep breath. "I thought--that you'd maybe--and we don't have to stay here, we could go out, sometimes--there's this really pretty park I've been meaning to go to, and this great restaurant I think you'd really like--"

"Oh," Hoseok says, and tries to ignore the flipping sensation in his chest. "Oh. You want to like. Have a standing…" Date, he thinks. No, wait, don't say date. "...Happy Friendship time?"

Namjoon presses his lips together, looking like he's trying not to laugh. "Yes," he says earnestly. "Yes. I would really like that."

"Well, damn," Hoseok says, all of his feelings swimming around in his chest, like he's a goddamn living fishbowl or something. This is a bad idea. This is such a bad idea. "Awesome. Sure. Let's get it."" 11,700 words.

when the moon rises - niveuos Hoseok/Namjoon. "Namjoon, self proclaimed human disaster, makes out with Hoseok, his Super Cool best friend, while they're drunk at a college party. Oh, and Hoseok is also probably the love of his life, so he's pretty sure he's just basically ruined absolutely everything between them. (Spoiler alert: he hasn't.)" lots of pining and misunderstanding! 22,000 words.

no one's got me quite like you - morsku Jimin/Yoongi, Hoseok/Namjoon. "Hoseok's had a bad luck streak in his relationships and Yoongi has always been there to pick him up, dust him off and send him towards new disappointments. Except this time, Hoseok accidentally finds the love of his life, no one around Yoongi is single anymore and the tables get completely turned when Jimin barges into Yoongi's life like he owned the place." 13,100 words.

in the heart of the light - jesspava Hoseok/Namjoon. "Hoseok doesn’t hide the way pain crosses his face. “You’re going to cite our non-fraternization policy at me, aren’t you?” he says. “Yessir.” “God,” he laughs, bitter. “I hate how well I know you.” (military AU inspired by descendants of the sun)" 13,100 words.

The Prince's Wingmen - smiles Seokjin/Yoongi, Hoseok/Namjoon. "It had been assumed that the fuss and borderline-intrusive interest in the crown prince's nuptials would eventually subside once he and his groom were married. This, of course, did not happen, and so the task fell to the royal biographer Kim Jisoo to interview, collect, and in all ways assemble the story of how Namjoon met and fell in love with Hoseok. As Prince Namjoon's closest friends, Yoongi and Seokjin have a lot to say about their role in the happy couple's pairing. And a lot more to say about each other." 23,400 words.

under the blazing sun - bananas  Hoseok/Namjoon. "That night, as he lay in his rickety bed, thin sheet barely covering his sweat-soaked body and his defenses suddenly all but non-existent, all Namjoon saw when he closed his eyes was Hoseok's radiant smile, glowing like the sun, and he thought to himself, he wouldn’t mind letting the light from this sun blind him. or namjoon has photophobia and hoseok is the sun" surfer hobi. 20,200 words.

miscommunifection - KingOfHearts709  Hoseok/Namjoon. "“And... I just want...” Namjoon freezes, why does this sound so serious? Why is Hoseok playing with his hands? “...be my boyfriend.” OR Namjoon gets an ear infection, and admittedly, context clues aren't always the best to rely on." 3800 words.

told you with a smile - pardon  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Namjoon can be evasive. Hoseok figures out why." 1000 words.

Secret Santa's Who's Who - emerald_bard  Hoseok/Namjoon. "FROM: Kim Taehyung TO: Kim Namjoon Your participation in this year's Secret Santa drawing is mandatory. I need an even number of particpants. And you can't say NO! You owe me too many favors." office au. 4900 words.

Bring Me Back Down to Earth - Katuize  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Sometimes Namjoon needs someone to get him out of his head. When he needs someone, he goes to Hoseok." caregiving, hurt/comfort. 1100 words.

we will fly well - Miralana  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Namjoon and Hoseok just want to have a nice dinner and maybe fuck somewhere where their children can't interrupt them every five seconds. (They just hope that Seokjin doesn't accidently microwave them while they're gone.)" hot and funny and sweet. 4600 words.

Pink in the Night - updownandsideways  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Maybe there's a few perks to being stuck at the kids' table every christmas party after all."  7400 words.

Like The Moon To The Sun - AttesTaetion (BTS) Hoseok/Namjoon. "“Joonie.” It’s said softly. Gently and sweetly. Hoseok is speaking to him the way Namjoon typically speaks to the little animals he comes across during his walks in the park. In a way that’s meant to soothe them. To let them know that he doesn’t mean any harm. Because he cares for them. Because they’re cute and small and he thinks they’re adorable. Basically, Namjoon has a bad day and Hoseok is there to take care of him." 5800 words.

yesterday, today, tomorrow - tsukishirohana  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Namjoon breaks up with Seokjin. He tries to put himself back together." the first 2/3 of this are about namjoon trying to get over jin and it's sad esp if you ship namjin. but the last chapter is namseok sweetness! 61,300 words.

a house made of cards (and us inside) - agustxxx, honeyboyyoongi  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Being the generally fearful person that Hoseok is, most people would think that when faced with a grim reaper, Hoseok would run the other way screaming, which is fair. But then again, most people don’t know that Hoseok’s boyfriend is the King of Hell." 10,700 words.

Hoseok/Namjoon/Yoongi

Little Admirer - gusgiis (rravii)  Hoseok/Namjoon/Yoongi. "Looking back out into the sea, Hoseok spots a glint of purple hair and a grin spreads on his lips. "Our admirer is here." Hoseok remarks, making Yoongi smile as well." Hoseok is a demon, Yoongi is a witch and Namjoon is a siren. Cute! 9500 words.

whoever’s got you got gold - wildlikeawolfpack  Hoseok/Namjoon/Yoongi. "hoseok (very much human) meets yoongi and namjoon (far from human). he offers them his blood and his hands to hold." 7700 words.

want oceans to part, overcome in a war of hearts - morelenmir  Hoseok/Namjoon/Yoongi. "Yoongi enters the little house with a clatter, blinking through raindrops in his eyes at the figure in front of the cast-iron stove. "Seok-ah," he calls, wrestling with the buttons of his yellow raincoat and the plastic bags digging into his fingers. "I need a hand--" His voice whips away into nothingness. The groceries hit the floor, eggs cracking open inside the bags. Namjoon stares up at him from where he kneels, firewood still in his hands. Yoongi takes a faltering step forward, fingers opening and closing on empty air. Namjoon smiles. "I'm home."" fantasy au. 2300 words.

Poly rapline au - runchrandom “Poly rapline au where namjoon is trying to get dressed but he left his jeans on the washing line the night before and has to make a dash outside in his boxers and shirt & hears a whistle from an upstairs apartment balcony where he can see boyfriend sope drinking coffee & watching”

Space, I Guess That's What I Choose - DefaltManifesto  Yoongi/Hoseok/Namjoon. "Yoongi doesn’t purr. He never has. It’s in the movies as a sign of the ultimate love and devotion, something everyone knows is bullshit but all it does is remind him that he’ll always be alone. The truth is, Omegas purr for all sorts of reasons. It’s a way to self-soothe the doctors say. He’s not sure what came first with him – the depression or the lack of purring, but the psychiatrist says it doesn’t matter. The anti-depressants he’ll start taking won’t let him anyways. His mother cries as he takes the slip from the psychiatrist. “It’s fine,” he says on the way home. “I’m not any good at soothing myself anyways.” Her hands turn white as they grip the steering wheel. “That’s not the point.”" follows canon timeline quite closely. 8700 words.

your body calls me - momentsinlove  Hoseok/Namjoon/Yoongi. "just really soft rapline with hoseok and namjoon taking care of yoongi" 2600 words.

shawty you can get blazed - marienadine  Hoseok/Namjoon/Yoongi. "Namjoon knows it’s going to be one of those nights the second Yoongi crawls into Hoseok’s lap." 2000 words.

we never sleep (we never try) - psikeval  Hoseok/Namjoon/Yoongi. "There’s a joyful sort of fluttering in her throat, like something bubbling up and aching with how happy it makes her feel. Just this, the two of them waiting here for her, in love with each other and with her. Never stops feeling like a miracle." yoonji and her 2 bfs. very porny. 4100 words.

Bound Together - landofpromise (BTS) Hoseok/Namjoon/Yoongi. "“How is everything? How are you and Hoseok handling final year?” “Ah, it’s going okay,” Namjoon says, then supplies, “Hoseok has a boyfriend.” “Oh, that’s why you’re acting like this,” his mom smiles solemnly. There's a reason that Namjoon doesn't feel jealous about that.” 7800 words.

Logical Thinking - Only_A_Fangirl  Hoseok/Namjoon/Yoongi. "“What’s the favor you wanted?” Namjoon asks.“Right,” Hoseok says. “So, I drank a little bit yesterday, and I got this really good idea. And then I sobered up and the idea was still good, so… here I am.”“What is it?” Yoongi asks.Hoseok takes a deep breath, looks at Yoongi pointedly for a few seconds, “Let me suck your dick.”" a huge novel of porn and feelings, i respect this so much!!! 135,100 words.

So You're Still Thinking Of Me - emlisy  Hoseok/Namjoon/Yoongi. "The classic ‘who in your otp is scared of spiders and who begrudgingly removes them’ that grew a mind of it's own and turned into long term boyfriends yoonseok slowly falling in love with their kindhearted neighbor Namjoon." 35,200 words.

Someone to Save Me; Someone to Love Me - eightninetwo  Namjoon/Hoseok/Yoongi. "Two's company, three's a party— Namjoon's just looking for a new companion, but he ends up with a whole lot more." the one where he adopts a dog! 17,100 words.

In my eyes, in my heart, you are there - sassy_ninja  Hoseok/Yoongi/Namjoon. "Hoseok starts off with everything and ends up with nothing. He starts off alone and ends up with a family. He starts off scared and he ends up braver (I mean he's still scared of spiders, but that's what boyfriends are for aren't they?) Or Yoongi offers the homeless guy outside his apartment block a warm place to stay in the middle of a Seoul winter and he ends up with Jung Hoseok." 6600 words.

You were holding on to make a point - bambambams (phanjessmagoria) Hoseok/Namjoon/Yoongi. "When he exited the bathroom, sweatpants slung low on his hips, Hoseok's shirt had been removed, Yoongi's lips closed around his collarbone. Namjoon stopped short, smirking, more amused that Yoongi had waited until he was absent to start anything. He was like that, Namjoon had found—enough of a brat, even though he was the oldest of the three of them—but he knew the agreement that they had, too. He wasn't supposed to touch or kiss or lick or bite or anything until they were all together. It wasn't that Namjoon was jealous. None of them were—they, and their relationship, had evolved beyond that. It was simply that the three of them had agreed to always be just that—the three of them. Yoongi hated being left out and had been the one to propose that particular stipulation for their relationship. So, really. He should have known better." 7600 words.

how, or when, or from where - moonsuns   Namjoon/Yoongi/Hoseok. "Stop calling it my quest,” Namjoon whines, and Hoseok laughs. “You’re the one that said it first.” “I was drunk.” “Well, the bad thing about going out with people, is that you can’t take back the stupid shit you said when you were drunk. Especially when they’re way less drunk than you.” Or, after Namjoon almost dies, he decides to go on a quest to live his best life, and takes Yoongi and Hoseok along for the ride." 28,100 words.

Lonely Night - realface  Namjoon/Yoongi/Hoseok. "It starts, as most things in Namjoon’s life does these days, with a tweet." 2400 words.

Can’t Look Back, Can’t Look Too Far Ahead - teenuviel1227  Yoongi/Hoseok/Namjoon. "It started as directorial help for their sex tape--but what’s a couple to do when their bestfriend is the best at directing? Or Namjoon helps Sobi film a sex tape and gets caught up in the action too." 2700 words.

I Guess That's A Yes - rravii  Hoseok/Yoongi/Namjoon. "Hoseok is 19 when he ruins his first relationship by falling for someone else and eventually cheating with them. Hoseok is 22 when he falls for someone else again while in a committed relationship, but this time, he doesn't ruin it." 13,300 words.

Different - rravii   Hoseok/Yoongi/Namjoon. ""Come home with me." Based off of the INU/Prologue/Run MVs loosely." 4000 words.

Coming Home - busan_brat  Hoseok/Namjoon, Hoseok/Yoongi. "For Namjoon and Yoongi, home isn't a place. It's a person." Overwritten prose, underwritten everything else, but I'm into the pairings. 21,200 words.

and this is my one rapline ot3:

Simple Maths Hoseok/Namjoon/Yoongi. "Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi go on a holiday, share a bed, get drunk, and fall in love - not in that order." 6500 words.

Hoseok/Jimin/Namjoon

thought i'd ask you just the same - pearl_o  Hoseok/Jimin/Namjoon. "Like so many things, it's Jimin's fault. Or to Jimin's credit, maybe, is more fair, though that might just be Namjoon getting hung up on semantics." 1800 words.

i'd be lying if i said (i wanna be your friend) - raviolijouster  Hoseok/Jimin/Namjoon. "Hoseok’s head tilts to the side, a bright smile on his face. Namjoon turns to see a corresponding smile on Jimin’s face. This is a bit much, he thinks." cute! 19,700 words.

so show me, i'll show you - marienadine  Hoseok/Jimin/Namjoon. "He’s not special like Namjoon and Hoseok. If they’re stars, Jimin is a cold little moon. He only shines when he’s reflecting someone else’s light." 2100 words.

Smile At Me Like You're Dying To Say - Zee  Namjoon/Hoseok/Jimin. "Namjoon has been sitting on his ass and pining for Hoseok and not making a move for six months when Park Jimin shows up, does the opposite of all that, and ruins Namjoon’s chances forever. Or at least, that’s what Namjoon predicts will happen." 5200 words.

Goodnight Kisses - joonphases  Hoseok/Namjoon/Jimin. "Hoseok is tired, grouchy, and touch-starved. Namjoon and Jimin are waiting for him at home, ready to remind him how much he means to them." 2400 words.

Hoseok/Jungkook/Namjoon

body & soul - rapmonied  Hoseok/Jungkook/Namjoon. "Jungkook and Namjoon have been dating for almost two years. Emotionally, Jungkook has never felt more elated with someone. Namjoon’s all praise, and kissing and holding and talking and listening. Jungkook and Namjoon’s hearts were definitely in sync. Physically, however, there was a different story. Namjoon was gentle and soft and Jungkook sometimes likes to be held down and treated roughly. Enter Jung Hoseok." 10,600 words.

2/2/3 - cobbleles  Hoseok/Namjoon/Jungkook. "There is plenty of fish in the sea, two and two and three. Or: Hoseok wants to see other people and Namjoon agrees. Prompt - Secret Relationship." 9900 words.

namkookhope au by jellyfishes Namjoon/Hoseok/Jungkook. "NAMKOOKHOPE AU 💕 jungkook is looking for something casual, he signs up to tinder & meets namjoon. he’s in an open relationship and not looking for anything srs. so it’s fine if he starts sleeping w his dance teacher jhope too, right? what could go wrong?"

Speed - topbun (TrappingLightningBugs)  Jungkook/Hoseok/Namjoon. "When the force assigns him to go undercover to bust the head of a gang, Jungkook thinks he can handle it. But, when he meets drug-dealer Hoseok and street-racer Namjoon, who have an arrangement where they exchange speed for sex, they drag him in deeper than he ever intended to go. Deeper than he might ever be able to come back from." 38,600 words.

Hoseok/Namjoon/Seokjin

With sudden fall, it trails a thunderous ruin - monbon  Hoseok/Namjoon/Seokjin preslash. "Seokjin attempts to protect his crown from two usurpers." bake sale dads! 5300 words.

Something Brewing Between Us Three - merryofsoul  Hoseok/Namjoon/Seokjin. "Hoseok leans his body into Namjoon’s with a soft sigh as they watch Seokjin walk out, but perks up a little when Seokjin stops in the doorway and turns back. “It’s bean a pleasure,” Seokjin calls, and then starts laughing at himself as he leaves the cafe. Namjoon and Hoseok stand in shock for a few seconds before Namjoon says, “Oh my god.” or; Namjoon and Hoseok work in a coffee shop, and a cute customer starts to flirt with them." 11,700 words.

Can't Spell We Without W(you and you) - gbyesummer (shouldshy)  Hoseok/Namjoon/Seokjin. "“We’re going out tonight,” Namjoon says. “You should come with.” Hoseok sits up and narrows his eyes. “I don’t think Jin would appreciate me being invited on your date without asking him first.” “It’s not... like a date-date. It's a friend-date." or: Hoseok loves that they’re a close group of seven, but seven is six plus himself, and six is an even number. He's the seventh in a group with three (well, two and one almost-couple) couples. He’s a seventh wheel." I LOVE. 12,900 words.

Hoseok/Namjoon/Taehyung

i want it? i got it - brightlight   Hoseok/Namjoon/Taehyung. "“And what if I was asking? What if I asked what you want?” Taehyung enjoyed the way this put-together, successful man seemed to be shy at this, the way he looked flustered. Namjoon swallowed, looking at him. “I want you to meet my husband.” Hoseok and Namjoon live comfortably, and now Taehyung does too." 6000 words.

time to bring this ship into the shore - sugarlizard  Hoseok/Namjoon/Taehyung. "“Hoseok hyung,” Taehyung says dramatically. “You know that you’re totally the one that got away for our Namjoonie, right?”" eh. 6900 words.

come closer - pardon  Hoseok/Namjoon/Taehyung. "Namjoon tries so hard to be strong, like he thinks he’s responsible for holding everything together. He’s so painfully introspective sometimes, it makes Hoseok want to tear his hair out and plant comforting kisses on any bit of his face he can get to at the same time. Every time it's too much Hoseok and Taehyung are there, with soft assurances and gentle reminders that they’re there to help – that they want to help." 4700 words.

lay your head on summer's freckled knees - pearl_o  Hoseok/Namjoon/Taehyung. "Taehyung can never find the right words to describe their situation. Hoseok and Namjoon aren't Taehyung's boyfriends, but they always have room for him when he needs it." 4900 words.

pour yourself onto my heart - toxicmew  Taehyung/Namjoon/Hoseok. "Taehyung's always been a bit weak for cats but it's worth mentioning he's even weaker for the hot piece of ass knocking on his window looking for his." 10,400 words.

More...

hold me tight - hobipd  Jungkook/Hoseok/Yoongi/Namjoon. "Anyway, the thing Jeongguk likes... It might sound a bit strange for a 19-year-old boy, to be into something like this. This being BDSM. Bondage in particular." 15,000 words.

Steals and Deals - idyllic_hummingbird  Hoseok/Namjoon/Seokjin/Yoongi. "Boyfriends Namjoon and Yoongi sometimes commit petty crimes to get by. When Yoongi hears about a rich CEO going out of town, he convinces his boyfriend that an attempted heist couldn't hurt. Little do they know that the CEO's son, Seokjin, was given housesitting duties, and brought his boyfriend along for company. or, namgi are terrible burglars and 2seok are amused about it." 13,000 words.

Just a little bit (is what you need) - pacajins  Yoongi/Hoseok/Namjoon/Seokjin. "When you spend so much time with someone, living together and doing everything with one another, some things are probably inevitable. Like taking care of each other's needs and making sure the frustration doesn't interfere with work." 3000 words.

[fanfic-collection]

Vampire: Loki x Reader - Pt 12

Vampire Tag list: catalinaacosta , starscreamloki , dream-reaper , hufflepuff-always-and-forever , portietomednalynn , all-these-wonderful-things , jayyx3oxo , littlelokilover  , jessiejunebug , littlelokilover , vanessaaaasdfghjkl  , lokislilslut ,

It’s like it’s meandering as I’m trying to figure out where to go next. I’m not unhappy, I just... it’s kinda fun just having boring plot building though, fun for me anyways, like sometimes nothing happening and just interaction is nifty. I dunno, that’s just me. Hope you enjoy, thank you for comments!

Time passed in monotony. You tried pacing the room, counting the individual steps, counting the floorboards, looking for cracks and holes in the wood. You stared at the ceiling, at the moth-eaten curtains. You spent a great deal of time staring out the window, straining your eyes to see into the dark tree and shrub covered land.

The home seemed to be in a clearing of sorts, likely man made, within a densely forested area. For a time you wondered what had become of the owners, had they met an untimely end? You hoped not, perhaps they fell on hard times and were forced to abandon it. You thought of Loki hunting, had they been slaughtered as you slept mindlessly on the bed. How long had you been in that vision, had Loki put you in it? It seemed the only likely possibility.

You sat on the bed, picking at your fingers, wondering how long it would take to get back to the manor where Thor had been. Was Thor out looking for the two of you? Perhaps he was just looking for Loki and assumed you to be dead. How far out were you? If you were to escape, would it even be possible for you to make it back. What of the wolves? There were legends of vampires being shapeshifters, able to commune with beasts of the night, even taking their form. Some of the legends had seemed silly, fearsome creatures designed as perfect hunters taking the form of a bat. Though flying across the night sky, traveling wherever your heart wanted.

You smiled, thinking of such a thing. There was a freedom in such a life, to be able to go and travel in such a way as you pleased, but always chained down by the need for blood. It seemed to consume Loki.

Boredom gave way to sleepiness, not that you were tired. Eventually you found yourself laying on the bed, curled up and dozing.

The door opened, clicking shut behind him.

You startled, jolting upright and looking to see Loki entering. There were traces of blood on his mouth but he turned away from you, walking over and closing the curtains. Dawn was fast approaching.

Loki sank onto the bed and lay on his back, eyes closed and arms resting on his chest.

“No greeting?” You muttered, annoyed by his absence.

Loki opened an eye and peered at you. “Sorry.” He muttered, closing his eyes again. The weight of the world seemed on his shoulders as he lay there seemingly exhausted.

“Did you kill someone?”

Loki tensed, eyes opening slowly to stare at you. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and looked at the offending appendage. Slowly he sighed, gritting his teeth, “Yes.”

“You're going to attract more hunters if you're not careful.”

Loki sat up, dark circles under his eyes. “What would you have me do?” He hissed.

“You could go back to Thor, that seemed relatively low profile, you spent how many months there before anyone showed up asking questions? They probably only knew because they got to Analise.”

Loki glared at you. He unfolded himself from the bed, crossing the room to the sink and turning on the water to wash his face. Casting an annoyed look over his shoulder at you, he turned to the water and continued tending to his face.

“You missed a spot.” You muttered, folding your arms.

Loki hissed, rubbing vigorously at his face. “These damned mirrors don't work.”

“Is that why you stopped caring for yourself?”

Loki pulled away from the sink and turned around to face you, leaning against it with his arms folded. “Yes.”

“Silver is a holy metal, it doesn't work on err...” You trailed off.

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“Most mirrors are made with alluminium these days though, why hasn't Thor gotten you one of those?”

“Most of the mirrors on Asgard were of silver, it probably didn't occur to him that there would be such a problem.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “What am I supposed to eat? I can't sleep all day, and if I have nothing to do, I'm bored out of my mind, at least at the house I had the library.”

Loki's eyes flashed, ready to snap at you, but at the mention of the library, his anger faltered. He looked away sadly. “I'm sorry.” He muttered.

You wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, but being honest... “You weren't thinking things through.”

Loki grit his teeth, “I'm trying, everything is so jumbled.” He rubbed the palms of his hands on his temples, tossing his head back. “Did you eat everything I brought last time?”

“There's a little bit left, but I can't go three days without food, I need sustenance.” You glanced at the door then back to Loki.

“Eat that.”

“Obviously I will, but I can't survive on scraps stolen from poor farmers, or murdered farmers, whatever the case may be.”

Beginning to pace, Loki rubbed his hands on his face, growling softly.

“And I know what you think about Thor.”

Loki pulled his hands away and snapped, “No you don't. You don't know anything between Thor and I.”

You sat down on the bed, arms folded, “Then tell me, I have nothing but time.”

Loki stopped his pacing and glared at you, then back to the bed and his face softened. “I need sleep. I can feel the sun approaching.”

“Tough. I've done nothing but wait, you can talk to me for a bit.”

Loki groaned again, walking over and all but collapsing onto the bed, face down.

Despite yourself, you smiled at him, gently rubbing his back in soothing circles.

Loki sighed into the blankets at your touch, slowly turning his head away to look at you. “Can't we just sleep?”

“I can't spend all my time sleeping. At least steal me a book or something, a television? Though we probably can't get any shows out here, maybe a video player and like six seasons of a show?”

“The number of entertainment options out in this country are very limited, and traveling with such an item is not easy.”

“Then bring me back to the manor, at least there I had things to do.”

Loki glared at you, “Do you just want to be by darling Thor?”

You rolled your eyes, “No, I want something to do, enrichment, purpose. I don't give a damn about Thor. I'm here for you.”

Loki smiled at that.

“But Thor realized that keeping someone prisoner, they have to have things to do to entertain themselves or they go crazy.”

“No he didn't.” Loki muttered.

“Is that where the scars come from?”

Loki closed his eyes but stayed quiet.

“Well?”

“Some of them.” He muttered finally breaking his silence.

“Some? How badly scarred are you?”

Cold laughter came from Loki but no other response.

You sighed, trying to change tactics. “What's the deal between you and Thor?”

“What do you mean?”

“I even mention him and you get annoyed, your whole demeanor changes.”

Loki glared at you before putting his face back in the mattress. “Everyone always likes Thor more.” His voice was muffled so you barely heard it.

“Wait, are you jealous of Thor?”

Loki lifted his head up and snapped, “No! Why would I be jealous of that witless oaf.”

“You're the younger brother, aren't you?”

Loki glared at you for a moment before pressing his face back in the mattress.

“Just because he's older, doesn't mean he's the favorite.”

Loki sat up and laughed coldly, “You would like to think that, wouldn't you. My own father told me my birthright was to die, do you think he told darling Thor that?” For a moment, he seemed surprised, old memories surfacing, crossing his face in a tangle of emotions. He seemed confused, perhaps at having admitted such a painful memory and also surprised, as though he didn't expect such a memory to be true.

“He couldn't have meant that.”

Loki looked away, “You didn't know the man.”

Your face softened and you reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “Maybe it's best you forget him.”

“He waited til his death bed to tell me otherwise. Even then, it was only when yet another lie of his surfaced.”

“Thor said you had a sister?”

“Yes, that was quite the surprise to discover after a millenia of life.”

“Maybe a happier topic?”

Loki looked back at you, lips quirking over his fangs. “A happy topic, she asks for, to a cursed beast such as I. Would my birth father abandoning me, my multiple near deaths, or perhaps my most recent death be the subject you'd like to hear about?” His eyes flashed and there was a dark look in their green depths as he looked at you.

You swallowed hard, pulling your hand back on to your lap, still you held his gaze. “My baby sister has been sick ever since I can remember. I would do anything for her.”

“Even turn her into a monster such as myself?”

Finally you looked away, “No. She would deserve to rest.”

Loki looked down sadly. “I don't remember what happened after...” He trailed off.

“But, regardless of how fair or cruel it was to do this to you, I'm glad I've been able to meet you. I mean that.”

Loki took your hand in his, your heart stammered in your throat at the delicate movement. Very slowly he lifted your finger to his lips. His tongue darted out, curling over your finger. Before you realized, his fang had pricked the tip of your index finger and a drop of ruby blood swelled up. Licking his lips, gaze flickering up at you then back to your finger, he pressed his lips to the digit and sucked gently. His eyes fluttered shut, savoring the taste as he pulled away.

Slowly he smiled at you, “Thank you.” His voice was deep and throaty. Turning away, he rolled onto his side and curled up, speaking no more.

You pulled your hand back, having left is suspended in midair after he released your finger. Looking down at the pinprick on your finger, the blood already had stopped running, you tilted your head. That was the second time he had tasted you. This time it seemed to calm him.

Sighing, you walked over to the table and finished the last morsels that he had gathered for you. You would be hungry this evening, but hopefully he would bring extra in the night. If you timed a nap well, you might be able to avoid the worst of the pain. Besides, less food meant sleep would come easier.

You walked to the sink and drank deeply from the water. Occasionally you cast looks over your shoulder as Loki slept soundlessly, a smile still on his face, hand curled up by his mouth. This was different than the last time you had seen him sleep, as though he was cherishing something dear.

With nothing better to do, you lay down beside him and allowed yourself to doze by rubbing circles into his back and untangling the knots in his hair.

[crashdevlin]

To Hell and Back- 5: Highway to Hell

To Hell and Back Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version). This is an AU of my story ‘Marion’ and is just as epic as that series. 

Summary: Marion’s relentless nature gets her in serious trouble.

Pairing(s): Crowley x Marion

Word Count: 3273

Chapter Warnings: descriptions of child abuse, Hell, torture

Marion was seven hours into her twenty hour drive when she got a call from Dean. "Hey. Haven't heard from you in weeks. Tryin' to pull a 'Dad' on me?"

"No. I'm trying to pull a 'Sam'. You know, I was told to stay away." She responded.

She could hear Dean sigh through the phone. "Look, I didn't mean-"

"You did, D., but it's fine, dude. I totally understand. You need to spend time with Sam. He's gone revenge horny and you have to be with him... without me. It's cool. It's been a long time since I've had some peace and quiet, so I'm cool with this. Just tell me that you guys are keeping safe."

"Of course, we are. So, what are you up to? Any interesting hunts on the horizon?"

"No. It's all quiet on this end." She said, soliciting a scoff from the demon in her passenger seat.

"Sammy and I have been pretty busy, actually. A wendigo a couple weeks ago, a kid haunting the families of the boys who killed him after that and we just got a call from Jerry Panowski. Remember him? The, uh, the pol-"

"Poltergeist, yeah. I remember him."

"Yeah, well, there was this plane crash. He says there's somethin' janky about it."

"Oh, a plane crash? Cool, so you're finally gonna try out those Homeland credentials?"

"Maybe." There was a moment before. "How'd you know?"

She rolled her eyes. The amount of attention she paid her brother was ridiculous when confronted with the amount of attention her twin didn't pay her. "Just a good guess, I guess."

"Hey. I, uh, it won't be long, Marion. He's still not sleeping, but I'll get him back on track and we'll be fine. All of us. We'll track down Dad and it'll be like old times."

"Gods, I hope not, Dean." She exclaimed. "If it's gonna be like it was five years ago, I'd be better off just staying gone."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She'd known he was going to be offended.

"Do you honestly not remember, D.? Ten years ago, Dad started ignoring me and got all paranoid about Sam. The shouting matches between them started and he beat Sam more with his words than he ever beat me with his fists. I was an outsider for years before that but once Dad started ignoring me and you went to defending Sam, I was fucking invisible. If you and Sam find Dad and it goes back to the way it was before, then I would be happier alone."

"Dad never hit you." Dean growled. "I wish you wouldn't say that. I didn't see it. Sam didn't see it. We lived in motel rooms, Marion. If Dad hit you, we would've seen."

"You were so far up that man's ass, you could see where his fists were! Fuck, you didn't want to see! And Sammy? Dad was good at keepin' shit from him. Sammy didn't even know where Dad went all the time 'til he was eight years old!" She took a deep breath and bit her bottom lip. "Bobby knew. Bobby knew what Dad was doing. Why do you think he took me in, taught me how to defend myself? It wasn't so that I could hunt, that's for damn sure! Look, you believe whatever the fuck you want, D., but I will not be coming back to the same shit I dealt with for my whole life." She hung up and threw the phone into the backseat.

"Delusional, innit he?" Crowley asked, looking over at her.

Marion tried to fight the angry tears that were trying to pop up in her eyes. "They both had blinders on for that time of our lives, and they always have blinders on when it comes to each other. If nothing else, Crowley, this whole 'staying away from the family' thing is letting me get some shit off my chest that I never would've said in the past."

She wondered, sometimes, if it really was as bad as she remembered it to be. She often feared she might've given herself to Crowley for nothing.

Crowley seemed to sense where her mind had wandered. "I remember watching it happen, once. You were twelve, I believe. Mr. Singer was called on a hunt and sent you back to your father. Dean left to go chase a girl at the arcade down the street and Sam had fallen asleep in bed reading. John came back to the motel, drunk on somethin' cheap. You were watching Scooby Doo, he felt you should have been working on your knife skills. He grabbed your collar and shook you but his drunken fingers lost their grip and you went flying into the TV."

She nodded. "When he pulled me up off the ground, he pulled so hard that he dislocated my shoulder." She whispered.

"Your brothers didn't even ask why you were favoring yer arm or why you were having trouble hearing them with your right ear."

"They sure noticed the TV was busted, though." She chuckled. "You smoked into that biker at the next stop. I've never seen my Dad so bruised and bloody, not from any hunt he's ever been on."

Crowley gave a small smile. "They don't remember anything because they don't want to. But one day, they'll know John for who he really is."

She smiled, brightly, and reached over to pat Crowley's knee. "Thank you for putting an end to that."

"It wasn't me, Darling. That was... that was you. It was your deal."

"You gave me a pretty sweet deal compared to the idiots I mark."

"I'm glad you are finally starting to realize that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley walked into his study while Marion got settled into the room he'd specifically chosen for her. He sighed as a demon wearing an old redneck appeared beside him. "You've got one of my Winchesters." The intruder said, eyes flashing yellow.

"No, I've got mine." Crowley responded. "Wanna read 'er contract?"

"I claimed the Winchester kids before those brats were even born. The only reason you have that contract is because you were able to convince Lilith that she could help you get your numbers up. If it were up to me, that one would be dead." Crowley sighed and made a show of pouring his scotch. He'd heard this spiel many times before. "She's a wild card, Crowley. She could make us or break us, and I find the boys much easier to manipulate. Don't think for a single minute that you really have her under your control. Contract or not, she's a hunter."

"She's not just a hunter, Azazel. She's a Winchester. Instill loyalty and they will follow you to the ends. I've got her as long as her family keeps pushing her away." Crowley smiled, sarcastically. "Wild card: tamed."

"I hope you're right, Crowley."

"Crowley... who's this?" Marion asked, walking into the study and giving a wary look to the other demon in the room. "Thought it was just gonna be you, me, and the hounds."

"Can't help the higher-ups comin' to check on us, love. Marion, Azazel, Marion." Crowley motioned between the two with his scotch glass.

Marion looked at Azazel for a few long moments, her breath coming in short, her heart racing as she fought panic and rage. "I'm not feeling very well. I'm gonna go lay down." She swallowed before retreating from the room. Crowley was following right behind her and, as soon as the door to her bedroom closed, she turned to him with fury. "You've been lying to me! For years!"

Crowley shook his head. "What do you mean?"

"I recognize him! Not the man, not that meat suit, the eyes! Those jaundice-looking, sickly yellow eyes! He's the one who killed my mom! And Sam's girlfriend, right?!" Crowley opened his mouth to respond, but Marion didn't give him time to answer. "Because they got in the way of whatever your bosses have planned for my family and you want me to just sit back and be your fucking house human? What kind of person would I be, what kind of hunter would I be, if I didn't try to warn them?"

Her breath was coming in short as she ranted. "How can I sit here and play pretend like I'm your pet? Sit here, surrounded by the monsters manipulating my family to their own ends and not say anything?"

"Marion, please... don't make me-" Crowley's eyes pleaded but she felt no pity.

"I won't ever stop trying. Any chains you place on me, be they literal or metaphysical, I will break them, and you will have to explain to Lilith why you had to kill me." She shook her head as angry tears started to pour down her face. "You might as well take me to Hell now, Fergus, because I'm never gonna stop."

A hand appeared on her shoulder as the redneck with the yellow eyes showed up behind her. "I thought you'd never ask."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marion woke up in a chair, drenched in sweat, with the smell of sulfur pervading her senses. It was such a hot rotten egg smell that it made her gag. "You've brought a live one? How did you even manage?"

"Crowley had her on contract. Didn't even have to engage a reaper. She's here, but no one can know she's here. We don't want her being found. Oh, and you can't let her die. Anything else is fair game, Alistair."

"Can't let her die? She's a human in Hell! Why can't I kill her?"

"Believe me, I feel your pain, but if she dies, she goes up." Azazel jabbed two fingers upward. "And she knows a lot more about our plans than I want Heaven privy to. Just give her some of that potato soup you used to whip up for the Jews, keep the torture less than fatal and we'll be fine. After we finish the plan, then you can take her out."

"So... you're Crowley's bitch." Alistair walked over to her as Azazel disappeared. "It's been a long time since I had to worry about keeping a victim alive. It's definitely a unique challenge down here. So, did you get caught with something you should have left alone? So curious, you humans."

Marion looked at him defiantly but said nothing as he slowly brought a knife to her sweat-soaked clavicle. "I love when they think they can hold out. You think you're strong because you're a hunter, a soldier for your father's cause. In the end, you are just a fragile little girl in a vessel full of pain receptors... and I know just how to activate every single one of them."

"But you won't." She whispered, hopefully.

He smirked. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because..." She swallowed. "You need to keep me alive. If you torture me the way you want, I'll go into shock and I'll die. If I have no hope, no reason to try to hang on... if you put me in a position where I might have any say in whether I live or die... I will choose to die, and you can't let that happen. So... you'll have to go soft on the torture, Al."

"You're right, of course. But I have all the time I need to slowly break every part of you, and unlike every other soul in this place, you won't be made whole again at the next dawn." He dug the knife into her skin, slicing a shallow cut from her clavicle to her navel and smiling as she cried out in agony.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marion spent much of the next few decades screaming. She was usually alone, but for Alistair. Every couple of years, Azazel would show up to see if she was still alive and to mockingly monitor her mental state. Lilith showed up just twice to taunt her. She never saw Crowley and after a few years, she didn't think she wanted to.

She didn't try to talk, anymore, her voice disused except to scream in Alistair's face. She thought she might have even forgotten how to speak until the day Azazel walked into her cell with a guest in tow. Her eyes widened at the sight of her father... his soul, anyway.

Her voice was hoarse, but she managed a whisper. "Dad?"

"I'm so happy to see this little family reunion! It's not every day we get to see something so touching in Hell." Azazel quipped.

"Marion, what are you- your brothers have been looking for you for months." John's voice was pure confusion, but his words made Marion tear up at the thought that she'd only missed several months on Earth, while she'd spent a century in Hell, alone and in pain.

"It's been quite a bit longer for poor, young Marion, and to answer for her, since I know this is all a bit overwhelming... she fell in with a bad crowd, John. She made friends with a demon, a pissant little crossroads demon." Azazel slammed his hands down on her shoulders and she whimpered. "Between that and her nosy Winchester nature, we had to shove her deep into the Pit so that we could maintain the plan."

"Friends with a demon? What is he talking about, Marion?" John asked, his voice full of accusations.

Marion looked down, dread filling her as she was forced to finally divulge her greatest secret to her father. "He saved my life. Back before Mom, before this hunting bullshit, before any of us knew about monsters." She closed her eyes. "We were at the park when D. and I were four. Dean begged and pleaded and finally convinced you to get us ice cream from the truck. I was more interested in a butterfly, this pretty yellow and blue one. I chased it out of the park and it flew into the street. There was a truck and it would've flattened me, but Crowley pulled me back just in time."

Marion looked up. "He disappeared so fast and I was so young... I thought I imagined it... but then I saw him again after the fire and he kept showing up whenever I was alone and I was alone a lot. He told me when i was nine that he was a demon, but... he'd always been so good to me, so I didn't think it mattered."

"Here's my favorite part, John." Azazel cut in.

"He saved my life on several hunts." Her voice had started coming in stronger, but much more hoarse for the effort. "And when you started hurting me, I knew I could count on him to stop it, but I... I didn't want him to hurt you to get the job done. I knew it was the alcohol and the stress and the sadness you felt when you looked at me and saw Mom. So... to make it stop without hurting you, I made a deal." She gasped out a sob as her body tried to cry but was too dehydrated to manage the tears. "I agreed to help Crowley find people who tried to run from the hounds, and he made it where I'm invisible to you when you're drunk. That's why you never noticed me anymore, because you're always drunk."

"You sold your soul?" John growled.

"No. I sold my life. You sold your soul. Which one did you do it for?"

John looked away. "Dean was dyin'. I had to."

Marion shook her head. She knew more than John thought she did. "Because somebody's gotta stop Sammy if this prick's plan works, right? You would've done it yourself if you thought you could, but no, you leave it to his brother to kill him."

"I just gave up my life and my soul and the only weapon that could take this monster down to save your brother! What else can I give?"

"Nothing now." She said, looking from her father to the demons standing over them. "Just... don't give them what they want! No matter what they do, don't-!" Marion managed to frantically get out half of her warning before Azazel's fist connected with the side of her head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marion had woken up alone and stayed that way for a while, decades. Alistair had stopped coming to torture her, having found a new Winchester to play with that he didn't have to worry about keeping alive. Gallons of water, buckets of 'potato soup' which was mostly just potato water, and vitamin pills kept showing up with an increased frequency. So when her cell door opened and a form slunk in, she almost felt up to whatever fight was coming.

Crowley turned around from silently closing the cell door and surveyed the scene before him. If he hadn't known he was in the right place, he would never have recognized her. She was seventy-five pounds, if she was soaking wet, and she was covered in dirt and dried blood. On the wall over her head, there were hash marks, seemingly drawn in blood. A quick count told him that there were three hundred and sixty-five of them. More than half of them had a circle around it. Days and years. He heard a shuddering sigh as he stepped closer to her.

"You never came." She whispered and he had to school his face to keep his emotions at bay.

"It took me this long just to find you, Pony." His words were soft, and he used a nickname from her youth to put her at ease. "You think Azazel would just tell me where he put the only thing..." He faltered before continuing. "...worth taking from me?" He walked forward and pulled on her shackles to break the links. "I've spent years trying to find you, couldn't be blatant about it, called in favors from people I've been holding for centuries. Come on, stand up."

She shot a weak glare at him. "Do I look like I can stand?" She whispered.

"Well, if you wanna get out of here, you're gonna find the will to walk, sweetheart."

"Out?"

"Out." He insisted, helping her to her feet and ignoring the way the wounds and scars under his hands made him want to kill Alistair. "Out of Hell. A lot's happened since you've been gone, Pony. Sam died, Dean sold his soul at a crossroads and now the tin soldier who killed Baby Brother is on the way to open the Gates of Hell and let everyone out, which is sure to be a party. Sam and Dean are on their way to stop him, but he's bound to get the gates open for a few minutes, at least. I'm going to draw you a map. The soldier is gonna open that gate in about nine hours." Crowley pulled out a familiar piece of paper and turned it over, drawing a map.

He handed her the map, making sure Marion could see that it was drawn on her contract. "You make it there. You don't get caught. You make it here." He pointed to the far point on the map. "You make it topside and you burn the map. Azazel and Lilith can't bring you back without the clause in your contract saying your body can cross without a Reaper. Get topside, burn the map. Understand?"

She nodded, weakly. "Topside. Burn it."

Crowley ran his thumb across her dirty cheek and sighed. "Good luck, Pony."

She took a shaky step toward the door and sent and unaddressed prayer up to anyone who was listening. "Please, let me get out safe."

[hitsuhinalover]

Hitsuhina month 2018 & 30 days OTP challenge

Day 2: Taking care of sick other

A/N: Day two!!! I may have gotten a little bit carried away...this is quite long for a oneshot, I think (at least in so little time). Some of my fics for the hitsuhina month/challenge will be much shorter. Also, I hate to write Rangiku such a slacker...but for the sake of the story!!! I'm sorry, Rangiku.

Warnings: I think this is the first time I write a fic where one of them is sick? Besides, an unoriginal title.  

Disclaimer: I don’t own Bleach.

Let me take care of you

She hadn't come.

The clock had ticked past eight o'clock about forty minutes ago (forty-three to be precise), but there was no trace of his childhood friend. Catching himself staring at the clock once again, he huffed and turned his attention back to the paperwork on his desk.

Beside having the most powerful ice zanpakuto in the Soul Society, Captain Hitsugaya was known for his abilities to get paperwork done in a way that matched Captain Kuchiki's. This morning, however, reminded him of the dark times his division had suffered from when paperwork was supposed to be done by Captain Isshin Shiba and Lieutenant Rangiku Matsumoto. The same piece of paper had been lying in front of him since other Soul Reapers had started bustling in the aisles, bringing messages and papers in the beginning of the new work day.

When Hitsugaya had stepped into his office at seven o'clock, ready to begin his work an hour before everyone else, he had immediately engrossed in his work. At eight o'clock, he could proudly have told he had been having a productive morning, having gone through a great number of paperwork, meticulously reading all the information before signing. But after that? He stared at the paper, without understanding anything that stood there, until either the clock or the door captivated his gaze once again.

“You can go to see her, you know.”

With a startle, Hitsugaya turned to meet Matsumoto's eyes. She was lounging on the couch, clearly not working, and looking back at him with a slight smile. Hitsugaya knew he should shout at her, to command her to do something productive, but his eyes just slid back to the door.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he announced, feigning indifference. He was looking at the door because he wanted to, not because he wanted someone to come!

Matsumoto chuckled, raising her eyebrows. “Oh, we both know what I'm talking about. She hadn't come today, so you're worried. Go to see her.”

No, he wasn't. She wasn't required to come here every morning, just to wish him a good morning. Actually, it might be better if she came no more, since he had to always stop his work for awhile to reply to the smiling girl, maybe chat a little bit. Often she stayed until she had only five minutes to rush off to work. No, putting an end to her morning visits would be a rational way to act.

“You aren't yelling at me for not working. You didn't even yell at me for coming late, just looked disappointed.” Matsumoto put a hand over her chest, shaking her head. “And it even felt like you weren't disappointed because I came late but because I came, instead of a certain dark-haired girl.”

Hitsugaya glared at her. “Start working, Matsumoto.”

The knock on the door didn't leave the lieutenant time to reply. Hitsugaya jumped up from his chair, eyes glued to the door. Calling the person behind the door in, he hoped his voice didn't sound to others as terribly hopeful as it did to him.

“Some papers from the 5th Division, sir,” a Soul Reaper said.

The Soul Reaper who had come in was a girl with dark hair – but she wasn't the girl Hitsugaya had been waiting for. Despite his excellent memory, he couldn't even remember which seat she held, nor what her name was. He didn't care.

The only girl Hitsugaya cared about hadn't come.

“Where's Hinamori?” Hitsugaya demanded.

“I don't know. I was told to bring those papers to the 10th Division. Do you have any papers I should take back?”

“What do you mean you don't know?”

She shrugged, oblivious to Hitsugaya's widened eyes, rush in his words. “Lieutenant Hinamori wasn't in the office today. But I'm sure Captain Hirako knows everything you want to know, so I can–”

Before she had ended her sentence, Hitsugaya had charged past her and out of the room, leaving the girl gaping after him. She turned to look at the blonde woman who shrugged like she wouldn't care, but looked as smug as a cat that got cream, or sake if that particular cat happened to like it. “Young love is so cute, isn't it?” However, her smirk changed soon into a frown. “But I guess it leaves me with paperwork.”

………..

Captain Hirako didn't know whether his day turned into better or worse when Toshiro Hitsugaya barged into his office. On on hand, it was funny to follow how he and Momo danced around each other, both oblivious to other's gigantic heart eyes. Being asked about his feelings for the dark-haired girl, he started stuttering something about not having any kind of feelings towards his childhood friend, except for a possible tiny spark of friendship. All this while blushing furiously. Very entertaining. And right now, Hirako was beyond bored.

On the other hand, when Hitsugaya thought someone offended Hinamori even in the slightest, or was a hazard to her, he ended up being a hazard to all the poor souls present. Noticing the temperature dropping, Hirako supposed he was now the poor soul in question.

Still, he couldn't pass a chance to have some fun.

“You chose a bad day for confessing your feelings, Momo isn't here today.” A grin, accompanied by a raised eyebrow. “Unless you came for me? I'm flattered, but you're not really my-”

“Where's Hinamori?” Hitsugaya interrupted him. “The 5th Division doesn't have assigned missions for a couple of days, so she can't be on a mission.” The moment the words slipped out of his mouth, he blushed, hurrying to explain. “As a captain, I naturally need to know these kind of things. I didn't especially check the schedule of the 5th Division, don't even think about it.”

With a grin Hitsugaya didn't like at all, Hirako drawled, “Sure, whatever you say.” Having to suppress a shiver due to the sudden cold wind, Hirako decided to reply quickly to the boy's question. “I heard the poor girl was so sick she almost fainted in her way to work, so I gave her a day-”

The door slammed close, making Hirako shake his head. “Why are the young always in such a hurry? Especially the young in love.”

……......

At first, Hinamori mistook the pounding noise at the door for her headache. When she heard the familiar voice of her childhood friend calling her name, she jumped up from the bed and stumbled a couple of steps before collapsing on the floor. Oh, it felt so good to press her burning forehead against the cold floor! She could stay there forever. If she had her eyes closed, the room couldn't tilt and make her want to vomit.

“Hinamori!” Hitsugaya's shout startled her, reminding her of how Hinamori had found her new sleeping place. She should probably reply something to him before he would break the door, since moving felt too challenging.

“You can come in.” Some coughing and four attempts later, Hinamori got the message through. The knocking immediately stopped and the door was slammed open. Hearing his gasp, Hinamori remembered she was still laying on the floor. Oops.

Hitsugaya's fingers squeezed her shoulders, touched her forehead. Mmm. Whether it resulted from his zanpakuto or not, she didn't know, but Hitsugaya's body temperature had always been a little bit lower than others. At winter nights in her childhood, when she had buried herself under dozen blankets, she had loathed when a cold hand had snaked in to touch her neck and startle her. Now, however, she didn't mind Hitsugaya's cooler body temperature in the slightest.

“Hmm?” Hinamori asked when she finally understood Hitsugaya had said something she hadn't caught despite his several repetitions. “Yes, I'm alright, thanks for asking. Just a little bit sick, I think.”

“Yeah, you're burning up.” Had Hinamori looked up, she would have seen Hitsugaya frowning and biting his lip worriedly. “I'm going to help you to bed.”

Hinamori muttered something more or less coherent, which soon changed into a surprised shout as the nice cold floor disappeared under her. Hitsugaya's one arm was supporting her back, whereas the other was under her knees. Having walked the small distance Hinamori had stumbled before collapsing, he placed her carefully on the bed. He was even giving her a blanket, but Hinamori raised her hand to stop him. “Not cold.” He had to lean down to understand what she was mumbling. “Open the window?”

“I don't know if it's a good idea,” Hitsugaya stated, a frown still lingering on his forehead. “But I'll bring you some cold water,” he promised, already in his way to the kitchen.

Soon enough Hitsugaya was back with a glass of water that she drank quickly. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Hitsugaya replied, touching her forehead. Still hot. Closing her eyes, Hinamori enjoyed the moment, the feeling of his cool hand on her forehead. Not only did she feel less hot, but also...safer, somehow.

“You should probably get to work,” Hinamori sighed at the same time Hitsugaya said, “I should probably take a day off.” Having stared at each other for awhile, they both opened their mouth. With a small giggle, Hinamori nodded him, prompting him to speak first.

“I should take a day off to take care of you,” Hitsugaya replied to Hinamori's suggestion. “Otherwise, you're just going to end up lying on the floor again.” His smirk evolved into a chuckle as Hinamori's eyes flew open. “Hey! Only because I had to go to open the door for you!”

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth were turned slightly upwards. “Anyway. I'll send Hell butterflies to Matsumoto and Head Captain Kyoraku, but I'm sure it'll be fine. I haven't taken a day off in ages, and my work today would have just been paperwork.”

Hinamori gasped dramatically. “'Just paperwork'?! You must have a fever, too!”

“Matsumoto won't touch it, and I can do it at the end of the day,” Hitsugaya pointed out.

“Oh, I already thought you cared about me more than your paperwork. How wrong I was!” Hinamori joked, her eyes now shining because of mirth, too. Although Hitsugaya knew it was just a joke, his heart started beating more quickly.

“Seriously, though. I don't want you to get a fever, too,” Hinamori worried.

“Hey.” With no more teasing, Hitsugaya reached for her hand. “Remember how resistant I'm to colds?  Back in the Rukongai, you always picked up every common illness there was, but I? Never.”

“And you always just mocked me!” Hinamori laughed, pretending to be offended.

“Just a little bit. I helped, too.”

Raised eyebrows. “When?”

“Do you remember the time I made you chicken soup with Granny? You actually liked it!”

“The time I got a stomach flu afterward? How could I forget it?”

Hitsugaya huffed. “Don't complain, at least you got rid of your cold. Moreover, I'm a better cook nowadays.”

……......

“So, do you remember how much garlic Granny put into soup?” Hitsugaya asked, staring at the ingredients in front of him. After a thorough search and continuous asking, he had managed to localize everything he needed. To his dismay, though, his memories of actually making soup were blurred at best. Maybe he hadn't been the master chef he had thought he had been, after all.

A yawn. “No,” Hinamori mumbled, eyes closed. “Just put the amount that feels right.”

Hitsgaya frowned. Start experimenting, while Hinamori was very sick? Not a good idea. With a glance to a tired-looking Hinamori, he decided he was going to make her soup another time.

“You know what?” Hitsugaya started placing everything back. “I'm going to brew you some tea. Which flavor would you like?”

“Hitsugaya?” Hinamori called.

“Mm?” Hinamori replied, opening drawers. Since he had been drinking tea with Hinamori so many times, he should remember where she kept her tea.

“Stop fussing. I don't need anything.” Hitsugaya flushed almost as red as Hinamori. Whirling around, he was about to announce that he definitely wasn't fussing, but stopped short at the sight of her face. Despite how uncomfortable she was feeling, judging from all the sweat beads that were glimmering on her face, she was smiling. Without being able to do anything at it, Hitsugaya noticed a frown on his forehead and at the corners of his mouth melting away, his lips mirroring a small smile Hinamori had. However, when he remembered Hinamori’s words, the smile disappeared.

“I can leave if you want,” Hitsugaya suggested, already turning away. His voice probably gave him away, but he didn't want her to see disappointment on his face. “You can probably rest better then.”

“No!” Hinamori shouted, startling both Hitsugaya and herself by the intensity of her reply. He turned to look at her, but she didn't meet his eyes. “I mean...it's been great that you've been here, thank you.” A quick glance to his face, then her gaze was wandering again. “Just...you haven't taken a day off for a long time, so you should really be enjoying it instead of taking care of me.”

Sighing, Hitsugaya walked to sit next to Hinamori. “You always take care of others, but when you need help? You say you don't want to cause any trouble.” He placed his cool hand on her forehead, alleviating her headache and fever. Maybe it didn't result only from his lower body temperature, but also from him being a person she cared a lot about. A person she loved. “But I tell you a secret: right now, there's nowhere else I would rather be than here with you.”

[taztaas]

#50 taakitz? Maybe with your favorite au!

Hey anon! Sorry, this took ages. This was a bit tricky, I figured that High School AU’s are my fave but the prompt didn’t really fit, but I went with that anyway. I already wrote this (1688 words jeez I have no chill) and then I remembered that I really like fake dating AU’s… That one would have been easier. But, well, here you go. I made Taako some sort of sleep gremlin sorry for that. Also I have no idea how high schools work, please indulge me.

#50 “It’s not safe here.”

Something raps against the window and Kravitz jolts awake, a music sheet sticking to his face. He has fallen asleep at his desk again. Sitting up, he rubs at his tired eyes, half-wondering what woke him up. Something hits his window again, a small stone it sounds like.

Not really thinking about it he stands up, walks up to his window and opens it. He peers into the darkness below, and spots something humanoid-shaped crouching down on the gravel, bending down to pick up more stones.

“Hello?” Kravitz calls out unsurely, because he’s now awake enough to realize that he really isn’t friends with anyone who would be out on the school premises after dark, throwing things at his window.

The shape below stands up and Kravitz’s heart stops for a second because the person looks like Taako and he’s been gathering courage to ask the elf out for ages.

“Oh shit! Skellington?!” Lup laughs - because of course it had to be Lup - too loud and it makes Kravitz cringe in nervousness. “What are you doing in my brother’s room with your clothes on?!” She yells, trying to keep somewhat quiet at the same time but failing miserably, which seems to be a running theme with the twins.

Kravitz sighs. He goes to one campus Halloween party after watching Fantasy The Nightmare Before Christmas and Lup hasn’t let it go since. He ignores the nickname, and ignores the other thing Lup said even harder because what.

“This is my room, Taako’s is on the other side.” Kravitz whisper-shouts, “What are you doing here? It’s after curfew, you shouldn’t be out here, it’s not safe.” And it really is risky, Neverwinter High is extremely tight-assed about their rules. Breaking those rules - and getting caught - equals many grueling and boring hours in the school’s equivalent of community service.

“Pshaw, who gives a shit!” Lup says with a grin and a dismissive wave of her hand. Now that Kravitz’s eyes have gotten accustomed to the darkness, he notices that she’s wearing a red robe over her PJ’s and a pair of bunny slippers which seem a bit of an inconvenient choice in footwear for a night outside. “Get Taako for me?”

“Why don’t you just go around the building?” Kravitz asks with a frown but Lup just scoffs and shakes her head at him, as if exasperated by Kravitz’s ludicrous suggestion.

“And go through all that trouble when you can just walk a few steps across the hall to get him? Fuck that! Go get that boy for me.”

Kravitz pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t know either of the twins that well but he’s familiar enough with their reputation that he knows it’s useless to argue.

“Fine. Wait just a moment.”

Lup grins and gives him a double thumbs up, her ears perking up excitedly. Kravitz closes the window just in case, not trusting Lup’s ability to control her impulses. He doesn’t want to come back to his room to find it full of gravel.

Resigned to his fate, he leaves his room and walks across the hall to Taako’s door. It takes a couple of knocks but then the door opens, revealing Taako in all of his drowsy glory. His hair is a tangled mess falling over his shoulders. He’s wearing a too large, worn t-shirt that is almost falling off one shoulder and a pair of sleeping shorts that are really way too short to be decent.

Kravitz is used to seeing Taako in carefully put together and thought-out looks, so seeing him like this makes something twist in Kravitz’s stomach and he bites his lip. Taako looks adorable. Thankfully Taako seems to be too out of it to take notice of Kravitz’s ogling.

“Muh?” The elf says intelligently, rubbing at one of his half-lidded eyes, ears drooping, other hand still on the door.

“Oh, uh. Your uh- sister is asking for you.” Kravitz stammers out and Taako blinks in response, but doesn’t look any more awake for it. He leans forward from the doorway and looks out into the hall, looking both ways. Besides the two of them, the hall is empty.

“Mrp?” He huffs out and looks at Kravitz with suspicion. His ears twitch in agitation.

“She’s ahh, she’s out on the courtyard, below my window.” Kravitz explains and points his thumb behind him, over his shoulder, indicating his dorm room. Taako’s eyes, glowing slightly in the dark, follow the movement.

“Meh.” Taako concludes and reaches for Kravitz’s hand, grabbing it before Kravitz has any time to panic about his clammy palms. Taako pulls his door closed with his free hand. Kravitz stares down at their joined hands in confusion before looking up.

“Uh, Taako? It’s just over there? You can actually see my door…”

“Mmm.” Taako says, staring Kravitz in the eyes blankly.

“You… You want me to walk you?”

“Mmm.” Taako keeps staring but his ears rise up slightly.

“Uh, okay I guess.” Kravitz says unsurely, but screaming internally - he’s holding Taako’s hand!! and pulls Taako with him to his room which is an uncharacteristic mess of bard-class assignments and reaper homework, double-majoring overwhelms him sometimes and work piles up.

Kravitz leads Taako to the window and lets go of his hand with no small amount of reluctance. Taako stands still, staring dumbly at the window, unable to comprehend the mechanism of opening it in his sleepy state. Kravitz sighs and reaches past him to open the latch and push the window open. His arm brushes Taako’s in the process and his skin breaks out in goosebumps.

Taako leans out of the window, just a bit too far to be safe and Kravitz is unable to stop himself from grabbing the back of Taako’s shirt to keep him from falling, just in case, even though he knows Taako has magic powers. Taako doesn’t seem to even notice but his other ear turns back towards Kravitz for a moment, like it has a mind of its own.

“There he is!” Lup yells from down below and Kravitz can’t help but to twitch in anxiety. They are so getting caught and raking leaves around the campus for the next month.

“Lulu?” Taako mutters, his first actual word of the night as he squints into the darkness where Lup’s eyes glow like a couple of lightening bugs.

“Get down here bro, we’re getting my fifteen dollars back!”

“You want to go rob Greg fuckin’ Grimaldis on a wednesday night?” Taako asks before he yawns widely, his ears pressing flat against his head.

“Uhh, yeah?” Lup says, her tone indicating that it should be obvious.

“…Okay.”

Taako starts to clamber out of the window and Kravitz’s jaw drops open because he’s going outside in those shorts? Taako doesn’t even have shoes on, just fuzzy socks.

“See you later, handsome.” Taako says with a tired but charming grin and Kravitz smiles back hesitantly.

Taako jumps down, casting featherfall at the last possible moment to be as over the top as possible. He lands softly on the grass, striking a pose and discreetly pulling the hem of his shorts down a bit while he yawns widely once again.

“Show off,” Lup snorts with affection and then they’re off.

Kravitz closes his window, hardly believing what just happened. He turns off the lights and goes to bed, still feeling dazed.

He is woken by a tapping at his window, and he curses himself for being such a light sleeper. Kravitz tries to will himself back to sleep but the tapping continues. He tries hard to ignore it until he hears the sound of his very much locked window opening and he scrambles up in alarm, gets tangled in his blankets and falls to the floor with a soft thump.

From his new perspective, he sees Taako stepping into his room through the window. The elf seems even more sluggish than before. He must’ve ran out of energy after managing whatever mischief he and Lup had been up to.

“Hey.” Kravitz says quietly, trying to sound casual despite laying on his floor after getting tentacled by his own bed covers.

“Mmh. ‘s cold.” Taako mutters and shuffles, zombie-like, to Kravitz’s bed and gracelessly flops down onto it. Kravitz fights his way out of the blankets and gets up to his knees to peer at the elf sprawled across his bed.

“Uh, Taako?”

He gets an unintelligible mumble, muffled by the mattress, in response.

“Are you… Are you gonna go back to your room?” Kravitz asks, standing up, holding his blankets in one hand.

“Nnn.” Taako whines. He doesn’t get up, but at least he rolls over slightly to make some space for Kravitz in his own bed.

“Okay. Okay, I guess this is happening.” Kravitz says under his breath and throws one of the blankets on top of Taako who makes a pleased little noise and burrows under it.

Kravitz settles down next to him, being extremely conscious of their proximity and taking extreme care not to brush against the Taako-shaped lump under the covers.

He lays there, stiff as a board, eyes closed and breathing manually but eventually he manages to fall asleep.

Until he wakes up again, for the third time. Unsure what woke him up, he opens his eyes and finds himself laying on his side, face-to-face with Taako who is wide awake and whose face blooms intense red as Kravitz catches his eye.

He’s really close and Kravitz feels his own cheeks heating up. Taako’s breath hitches and they stare at each other with wide eyes.

Kravitz clears his throat, and whispers, “Hey.”

“Hey.” Taako breathes. “Sorry I crashed on your bed.”

“‘s okay.” Kravitz mumbles, blinking heavily, because he has had about a wink of sleep and he still needs to get up early. He can’t remember the last time he was this tired. “You can stay if you want.” Kravitz’s eyes fall shut.

There’s a beat of silence, before Taako says, “For realsies?” And Kravitz smiles, already half asleep. “For realsies.”

I kinda wanged it at the end there I couldn’t think of anything good :(

[feral-flower-child]

Siblings Through Trauma

The house is exactly as Evelyn last saw it. Small, cozy, well kept. All it needs is a white picket fence. She and Edward haven’t stopped holding each other in some way since they left, needing to be reminded that what happened is over and they’re both there and alive.

That night is quiet. The calm after the storm. Neither want to sleep. Both know they should. Eventually they both fall asleep on the couch, only for Eddie to wake up hours later crying and scratching at nonexistent stitches. It takes a long time for Eve to calm him down. They don’t sleep for the rest of the night.

~~~

"You got some new tattoos."

The sentence is a soft break in the silence that had taken up the morning. Neither has talked about what had happened yet or the nightmares they experience nightly, even though it's been weeks. Maybe they should.

'Yeah I did.' Eve sits down on the couch next to her brother with her water bottle in hand, still sweaty from her early morning run. The exercise clears her mind. She turns her back so that he can see the large tattoo across the plane of skin. Part of it is obscured by the sports bra she wears but most of it is visible.

Tentatively he lightly traces the words, knowing they’re in Fae but unable to read them. "What does it say?"

It's our story. The Hotel. The…the deaths and tortures. Everything. So I never forget. Even if my memory is wiped again or something happens, I’ll always remember. Her voice is quiet in his mind as she visibly shudders. One of her hands traces the tattoos right above her hips. These are the names of everyone who died. That’s yours. She points to the middle name, an elegant symbol with winding writhing swirls.

"I-it’s so beautiful. The story. It looks so beautiful." But it's not. He talks equally quiet, blocking memories and pain as he takes his hand from her back.

She turns back around and nods at him. 'Yeah. It does. That’s the wonder of Fae. Making the ugly beautiful.'

"And this one?" Eddie gently holds her right arm and turns it so her forearm faces up, revealing another winding story in Fae.

'Mine and Dark's story of how we met. What I remember at least. At the end is a traditional Fae song for love and protection for couples. Well mates but same difference. It's also got our first kiss.' She smiles at the memory.

"In the burnt down library among the wreckage of a bomb." He rolls his eyes and pinches at her arm.

'Yep!' She swats at him and stands, draining the water bottle. 'I’m going to make breakfast if you want some before your shift at work.'

"Sounds good to me." Edward watches her leave with a soft smile.

~~~

Edward lounges on the couch, having not done anything during the day besides eat a little. Evelyn watches him from the hallway with a concerned frown. A ping goes off from her phone, causing her to check the notification with a sigh. Yet another order from her shop. She’d reopened a few days ago and all her customers have been pounding at her proverbial doors for their supplies.

She ignores the new order and walks back into the living room and sits down next to Eddie. 'Bad day?'

He just nods.

'Want to talk about it?'

A shake of the head. She sighs and leans forward to kiss his temple.

'You know where to find me Eddie. I’ll always listen.' She's about to leave when he grabs her wrist.

"I…I just keep remembering. Everything. The sounds. The screams." His voice is quiet and broken, just barely a whisper but Evelyn can hear it well enough. "Knowing…knowing you were here and you could be hurt and god I prayed that he would protect you. Even if he was doing all of this, he would protect you.

"And then…it was quiet. And he sat by my cell in silence. I could tell he wanted to talk, he wanted to say something. Maybe to try and make this better. And then…he left. And my cell door opened and I got this just sudden urge to…improve myself. And—" His voice cracks as he shudders. Eve places a hand on his. "And then I wasn’t myself. At all. Nothing. And there you were and you looked so broken and hurt and I knew what was going to happen but I didn’t want it to. I don’t even remember how I hurt you. Just…blank."

She doesn’t talk, just wipes tears from his cheeks as her own face becomes damp with sorrow. Eddie sighs shakily as she lays down next to him to hold him. They don’t talk anymore, just hold each other and cry silently.

~~~

The adoption center is a cacophony of animals barking and meowing and chittering. Evie walks from pen to pen, oo-ing and and ah-ing at each animal. Her brother follows behind her with a soft smile, laughing when she gasps loudly.

She’s stopped before a large pen with a St. Bernard, the dog panting and pawing at the cage at Eve. 'I love her already,' she hurriedly signs.

"You don’t even know if she’s what we’re looking for." Ed throws an arm around her shoulders and reaches his other hand through the chainlink. The dog immediately licks at his fingers, earning a smile from both of them.

'Fine then let’s ask.' Evelyn ducks under his arm and goes back to the front, asking one of the caretakers about the St. Bernard. Edward stays and continues to pet her talking quietly with her. When his sister bounds back with a caretaker, her smile is wide enough to let Edward know that she’s already got her heart set and there’s no way he can say no.

"Since you’ve already decided we're getting her, what's her name?"

'Talia. Isn’t it such a pretty name? And she’s a service dog for panic attacks and people with PTSD.' She kneels back down and pets Talia through the fence, laughing at the licks she gets in return.

"Yeah, it’s a beautiful name Evie." He turns to the caretaker and they begin to talk adoption.

~~~

Do you remember when we met? Evelyn asks. The stars are spread out above them, the grass chill and soft against their backs. Talia lays between the two siblings, her head and forelegs on Edward's stomach and her tail and one of her back legs on Evelyn's.

Edward laughs next to her, a rich sound that she has been hearing more and more lately. "Yeah of course I remember. You almost blew up my condo."

She sputters next to him. I did not.

"Yes you did, don’t even deny it." He sends a snapshot of a memory to her. A younger, scrawnier, teenage Evelyn crying inside his old condo while her hands and eyes glow an explosive red. "You scared the shit out of me and my roommate."

Okay so I did almost destroy your condo. Sorry. But it wasn’t really my fault so there’s that.

"Uh huh. Why are you asking?" Edward looks over at her with a slight frown.

In return he gets a sigh. I just. I don’t know. I miss it. The simplicity. Before everything else happened. I wish I could be fifteen again. Okay no, fifteen sucked ass. Sixteen was good. I stayed with you.

"I understand. But did you have Talia? Did you meet Ava and Camilla? Did you find Dark?" Talia thumps her tail at the mention of her name, panting slightly.

………no. Evie finally looks over at him.

"Exactly. It’s been shit. But it being shit led us to our good times. For instance: if a random starving teenager who had a lot of problems didn’t randomly show up on my doorstep freaking out because her powers were getting out of control, I wouldn’t have the best, most annoying little sister in the world."

Her lips finally quirk in a smile as she punches him on the arm. 'Had a lot of problems'? As in past tense? She looks back up at the sky. Does that mean that all the shit we went through back then will be worth it?

Eddie pulls her closer. "Yeah. I hope so. Hey look, a shooting star." He points to a streaking light in the sky. "Make a wish."

They sit in silence for a few moments before pushing Talia off them and heading back inside.

~~~

Evelyn stands in her room, her duffel bag on the bed while she grabs clothes from her dresser and closet to fill it. Talia watches from the threshold of her room. Evelyn doesn’t hear Eddie walk in and lean on the doorframe, at least until he speaks quietly. "I’m sorry Evie."

'I told you it’s fine. You need space right now and I’d be an asshole to deny it.' She turns to her brother and smiles at him reassuringly. He doesn’t seem convinced.

"Where did you say you were going again?"

'A mansion. We got the invite a few weeks ago remember? Apparently there’s a gathering of people, more egos. I’ll be okay I promise.'

Ed sighs and looks at the bag. "Phone, wallet, spells?"

Eve laughs and grabs the heavy duffel. 'Yes brother dear, I have everything I need. Stop worrying.'

"Impossible to do I’m afraid." He cracks a smile and walks over to envelope her in a hug. "Stay safe okay? Text me if you need me."

I will. I promise. I should get going. Take care of yourself and Talia yeah? Evelyn backs away and smiles at him.

He manages to smile back. "Yeah of course. You’d probably kill me if I didn’t take care of her."

'You’re learning. I love you.'

"Love you too. Now get going." He pecks her forehead and smiles as she backs away. She smiles back and opens a small rip in the air to place her duffel in the void before closing it.

Talia whines at the rip and Eve kisses her head before opening a larger portal, this time opening to a fringe of trees. With a final wave Evelyn walks through and closes it, leaving the room almost unnaturally silent.

Edward sighs at the quiet and pets Talia before getting ready for his next shift at the hospital.

~~~

WOW THAT TOOK FOREVER. Okay so for anyone confused, this is a story of snippets into my character Reaper's life after an event in a roleplay where her brother is Dr. Iplier aka Edward/Ed/Eddie. Reaper's name is also Evelyn.

@pleaseletthisjimbetaken @splatoon-jim @californiakxng @written-stone @readeatfightlove13