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alannah-corvaine · 5 months ago

Note

19) angry sex in the middle of a fight

"Jacke, we've been over this—"

"An' we'll go over it again!"

Brina heaves a sigh of annoyance, her expression pinched with frustration. This is the same argument they've been having their whole lives and it's so tired. She'd really been hoping that her years away from home would have somehow mellowed Jacke's overprotectiveness, but it seems not.

"You think I can't take care of myself."

Jacke rolls his eyes and huffs. "That's not what I said n'you know it."

"But that's what you implied."

She inspects her nails coolly, watching out of the corner of her eye as the rogue's face turns ruddy and he attempts to walk back what he thinks he didn't say. Brina loves Jacke, she really does, and has since she was eight years old. But sometimes he can be thicker than a brick and doesn't think when he speaks.

And today it's pissing her off.

"I never—"

"Come here."

Green eyes blink at her, confused.

There is no warning or attempt to explain herself as she rapidly steps into his personal space, upending his entire body with a quick sweep of her leg. In the blink of an eye, Jacke is flat on his back on the floor, still too caught up in surprise to mount a defense. In the next breath, she pins him down with her body and presses the edge of a dagger to his throat.

A single raised eyebrow tells her that her point has been made, but Jacke's never been the sort to let things go easily.

So it's not unexpected when he deftly rolls them over, reversing their positions. Hands pinned, Brina twists beneath him and kicks his shin hard, enough for him to hiss in pain and momentarily loosen his grip on her. She follows it up with a knee to his abdomen, close enough to his kidney to hurt, but not do any real damage.

"Swivin' hells, Brina—"

She doesn't relent.

They continue to grapple for the next several minutes, neither able to hold a definitive advantage for long. Jacke might be stronger, but Brina is more flexible, especially after years spent training as a dancer, and she manages to evade his attempts to pin her to the floor again.

Their mingled heavy breathing is loud in the empty afternoon silence as they finally still. The sun filters in through the open window, dust motes dancing in the light that bathes them in its warmth.

Brina sits straddling Jacke's lap, dagger pointed lazily at his chin. "Had enough?"

He attempts to sit up and grimaces. "Ye gonna keep paintin' me with bruises if I say no?"

"Maybe," she says lightly.

Brina has no real intention of hurting him, she just wants him to acknowledge that she's capable of it. She knows that he knows she is. That's why this whole stupid fight is ridiculous and a waste of breath. But Jacke is obstinate in the same way that a brick wall is immovable. And sometimes you have to wail on it a bit before it sees reason and crumbles down.

"Fine," he grumbles, going limp and letting his head fall back to the floor.

His chest rises and falls with his rhythmic breathing, and Brina finds herself mesmerized. A sudden awareness of where she is strikes her as she sits astride him, and warmth suffuses her whole body.

It's not like she's never seen that v-shaped sliver of his skin before, given his persistant lack of interest in buttoning his shirt, but now it's fascinating to her in a way that she's never allowed herself to think about.

Keeping her face neutral, she flicks the tip of her knife under one of the few buttons holding his shirt together, severing the thread tying it to the fabric.

Jacke frowns up at her. "What'n was that for? Haven't ye ruined my duds enough?"

Brina merely hums in response, only half listening. She has an impish desire to do it again, so she does. A second button goes flying and Jacke squawks in indignation.

He grips her thighs as a reflex and tries to pull himself up into a sitting position, but something in her expression stops him dead.

The world seems to slow down, the air between them becoming heavy. She doesn't know what he sees in her face, doesn't even know how she's feeling, really. Only that something has shifted, each movement between them now somehow significant.

Suddenly her mouth feels as dry as the Sagolii desert, and the act of her tongue darting out to wet her lips feels charged with unintended implication. And for once, Jacke doesn't seem to miss it.

"Bri-?"

He says her name slow and unsure, like he can feel the thick and nameless energy between them, like he doesn't know what to make of it. His fingers flex against her thighs, exerting the tiniest pressure, and blood roars in her ears.

She doesn't hear her own gasp, has no memory of jerking her hips in response to his featherlight touch; every cell in her body is immediately fixated on that sensation, raucously calling for more.

Desire like wildfire races through her veins, striking her like lightning, stealing her breath and leaving her trembling. Jacke is rigid beneath her, his grip like iron, bright eyes flickering from her face to her hips. There is something like fear in his gaze, and Brina struggles to make sense of it.

Through an unfamiliar haze of lust, she realizes that she's seated directly on top of his manhood, twitching and hardening between her thighs. A flood of thoughts she's previously forbidden herself to have come crashing into her consciousness, though she cannot for the life of her at this moment recall why she should have pushed them away.

It's so hard to think when she is made of want.

And then Jacke is gently pushing her off of him, his face a mask of guilt and regret. "Sorry, Bri, I shouldn' have—"

The loss of him beneath her hits Brina like a punch to the gut. She fixes Jacke with a piercing stare as he moves away, a thousand thoughts and feelings warring inside her head.

"Sorry for what?"

Her tone is short and clipped, she can't help it. She'd just discovered something wonderful and now he's taking it away and for what? For some emotion she can't read in his eyes? For a fight that doesn't even matter? She pulls herself to her feet, legs wobbly and unsteady, a fire burning fierce in her gaze.

Jacke scratches the back of his head and looks anywhere but at her, which only serves to heighten her aggravation. "Should'na underestimated ya, should'na started this banter again..."

"That's a load of horseshite, Jacke."

Her voice is louder than it's been in years. She hasn't yelled at him since they were kids, and Brina almost feels bad about it, but he's being evasive and it rankles more than it usually does. She doesn't even know why, except that this feels like a moment that they've been dancing around for a long time, and she's tired of running from it.

So she gets up in his face, refuses to let him avoid her. Her mother would be absolutely appalled at her unladylike confrontational behavior, but then she'd also have a fainting fit over her sitting on the lap of her best friend like a strumpet, so she lets the opinions of a dead woman lie.

"Shouldn't have what, Jacke? What exactly is it that you think you should be sorry for."

Her eyes narrow as his lips press into a thin line, holding their silence. He still won't look at her, so Brina takes his face between her hands and compels him. "Jacke, talk to me."

They stay like that, silent for what feels like a long time. Jacke shifts uncomfortably, but doesn't look away. He seems to be considering any number of things as he looks at her, his expression somber and almost sad. When he finally does speak, his voice is small and quiet.

"...m'sorry for takin' advantage of ye."

Brina blinks, not expecting that answer at all. She takes a minute to compose her thoughts.

"I thought," she says slowly, "that after we talked about everything that happened, that you understood. I love you. More than anything, more than everything. I promise you, you could never take advantage of me, because it's given freely."

His brow furrows as his eyes search hers. "I don't want to lose ye 'cause I were an addle pate."

There's an unspoken pain in his voice, a piece of debris from the years she was gone, and oh how it breaks her heart to hear it. Gently, she pulls his head down to rest his forehead against her own.

"You already did," she whispers, "but I came back, and I always will, because you're my home."

She kisses him then and thinks of Eulmore, of the loneliest months of her life spent staring out at an empty sea. She recalls the long years of silence, her words buried beneath the earth with her family. Her life is a mosaic of regrets.

Never never never again will she waste the time given to her.

Jacke doesn't push her away this time when she tugs at his shirt, the remaining buttons giving way to her grasping fingers with nary a fight. Brina doesn't stop to look at the skin she's unveiled; she could map out his scars in the dark.

He seems to sense her inspired urgency, mouth slanting hot against hers as he pulls her close. His fingers are a brand against her hip, sliding beneath the linen fabric of her shirt. A hum of approval escapes her.

She should be nervous, she supposes, as the clothes disappear from her body. Jacke's lips are at her neck and moving south as one hand tugs her blonde hair loose from its long ponytail, the other pressed against the small of her back.

But there's no room in her head for doubt, only wonder.

It's always been Jacke, she knows. Ever since the day they met at her father's warehouse, sharing secrets before names, and every day since. And there will only ever be Jacke until she draws her last breath.

She doesn't have to wonder if he loves her back or finds her beautiful; she feels it in his every touch.

And when her hands find the drawstring of his pants and slip inside to grasp him, she hears it in the groan that escapes his lips and the curses that he murmers low in her ear as she squeezes and strokes him slowly.

He softly pants her name like a prayer as she sinks to her knees, pressing kisses to his shuddering thighs. Her mouth on him is an apology, a love letter to all the time that they've lost.

He doesn't let her finish him, however, not when he still has his own amends to make.

His fingers find her hot wet heat, followed shortly by his tongue, and she sees stars as he performs his penance. His name is a litany from her lips, falling like rain over a parched desert.

She cums so hard she cries, unaware of her tears until he's wiping them away and whispering sweet nothings that are everything. The adoration in his voice is enough to heal every wound she's ever had.

Pulling him close, til they are skin to skin with nothing between them, Brina kisses him softly. In her thoughts she offers thanks to every divine that had a hand in bringing her back to him. A content sigh leaves her as she twines her legs around his hips.

Jacke's breath hitches. For just a moment, he hesitates. "...yer sure?"

"You're the only thing I've ever been sure of," she tells him, a smile hiding at the corners of her mouth.

It's all the reassurance he needs, pushing into her with a reverence that feels religious. The momentary discomfort is nothing to her; the movement of his hips sends her spiraling, lost in sensations she's never dreamed existed.

She had thought, all her life, that they were close. That the ties of their friendship had anchored to the deepest parts of her soul and it was enough. She didn't know—how could she?—that it could be like this. He is everywhere—above her, inside her, sharing her heartbeats.

Her given name escapes his lips in an exhale as he sinks into her once more, and she threads her fingers through his hair and considers that this is the first time in her life that she hasn't minded how it sounds.

"Call me that again," she sighs, back arching and hips rising to meet the angle of his thrusts.

"Rebecca," he groans, too far gone to tease her.

The sound of her name sets her off like a powderkeg; she shudders and whines beneath him, gasping for air, trying to hold on to the powerful ripples of pleasure that reverberate through her body in shockwaves. All too soon, they slip through her fingers, leaving her feeling boneless and sated.

Above her, Jacke rides out his own release, and the primal noises he makes as he buries his face in her neck have her ready to ravish him once more before they've even recovered.

For a long while they lay in a gasping, sweaty heap, too lost in the moment to ruin it with words.

Eventually, Jacke rolls off of her, and Brina discreetly stretches parts of her that had started going numb.

"That was—" she starts.

"Why in hells did we wait so long t'do that for??"

Jacke looks so affronted that she can't help but laugh, which only makes him frown harder. "Think that's funny, do ye?"

"Mhmm," she hums, eyes twinkling with mirth. With a grunt, she pulls herself into a sitting position, intent on fixing her messy hair, when Jacke reaches over and pulls her back on top of him.

"Hey!" she splutters, limbs akimbo as she attempts to right herself.

"I think," he declares as he kisses her shoulder, "that we've got lots o'time to make up fer. And right now's as good a time as any t'start."

Brina closes her eyes and smiles, leaning into his touch. "Is that so?"

"Mhmm," he echoes, pulling her down to him.

"If you," she murmurs between heated kisses, "say so."

After that, there is no more talk, only the silent language that lovers speak, long into the night.

#posts this before i can look at it again and change my mind #so we went a little bit off prompt but im mostly pretty pleased with how this turned out #they're one of my longest running ships and they deserve a good write up #my apologies for butchering jacke every time i have to write his dialogue #keeper's captain #drabbles #my writing

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xerith-42 · 1 year ago

Text

Garrance Week Day Six! Snow/Warm

You guys remember the episodes in Malachi's castle? What if I made them even more gay? And made it better because having Garroth and Laurance's "greatest fear" being the girl they like getting with another guy is weak sauce.

The copium these two men (esp Garroth) are huffing truly is something.

Traveling with one of his best friends on a quest to rescue the other one and he's in love with both of them? Laurance couldn't have asked for a better deal. In spite of his worry for Irena's safety, he absolutely cherished the time he got to spend alone with Garroth while they searched for her. It was so refreshing to get out of the village to go on what was hopefully a low stakes quest. He wasn't scared of much largely because he had Garroth at his side. They always fought well, better together, and he knew nothing could stand in the way.

"She likely took refuge in that castle," Garroth theorized as he pointed at the castle in the distance. Laurance squinted to see it through the blue of the ongoing snowstorm. He could at least make out the general shape in the landscape, even if it was blurry.

"Let's hope so," Laurance said with a shiver. "Not exactly the biggest fan of the cold." Garroth turned to look at the man who was bundled up in his cloak.

"I thought being a Shadow Knight would have made you more adjusted to the cold."

"I got used to living in the Nether, and I'm not sure if you've ever been, it's pretty hot there. I'm designed to survive in that, not these conditions." Garroth chuckled a little at the bitchy tone Laurance had that made it clear he was complaining for the sake of complaining, not because he was really that upset.

"I'm sure we'll be able to warm you up once we're in shelter." Laurance tried to ignore his mind supplying him images of Garroth holding him close to keep him warm. Being able to wake up in his arms completely at peace. Not the time for it. Then again, it never felt like it was the time for it. Why not now when they were alone without any prying eyes? It's not like Garroth would ever notice, he's always been far too dense.

The doors to the castle creaked with effort as the two of them pushed them open. Just as quickly as it opened they were stumbling in, and the doors slammed closed behind them. Laurance was hit with a wave of warmth. Within seconds it became burning hot, and panic filled his system.

Fire spread across Phoenix Drop and screams filled his ears. Irena was on the ground, crying, shaking, on the verge of dying. Laurance glanced down and saw his own hand holding Garroth by the throat, blood starting to pool around where his claws dug in.

"NO!!" Laurance screamed, trying to fight back. But he couldn't do anything. He couldn't control himself.

"Don't worry, you won't die yet," A low voice drawled. "I'll make sure you have a front row seat to watch your beloved lord fall at my hand. Then I'll make killing you seem like a mercy."

"Don't touch her!" Garroth gasped out, before Laurance tossed him aside. His footsteps were heavy as he stalked towards Irena, who was begging for her life. It all blended together. Even as Laurance internally fought as hard as he could to control himself, there was nothing he could do. Nothing. Nothing.

He could only watch in horror as his own body grabbed Irena's hair, pulled her off the ground, and just as quickly wedged his sword into her gut.

"Goodnight, my love."

"LAURANCE!!" Her scream jerked him awake. Laurance's breathing was heavy, and he had to blink a few times to let the world come into view. The walls of the castle were dull, old rotting spruce that was sparsely decorated. The fire place was active, a young man with blue hair sitting by it with a young ghost child.

The last thing Laurance took in was Irena, sitting in front of him with tears in her eyes. He hated that look from her.

"Oh my Irene, you're okay," Irena gasped out, leaning forward to press her forehead to Laurance's. She was so warm. "You're back "

"What... What happened?" Laurance muttered out.

"I-It was Malachi. He's a ghost that haunts this castle and he can't control his magick. It forces people to see the illusion of their worst fear."

"I-It was just an illusion. It wasn't real."

"Exactly. We're all okay." Finally he could feel movement in his fingers. Laurance instantly brought a hand to her cheek, his heart swelling at the rush of heat he felt upon touching her. His eyes drifted to the side when he heard the clank of Garroth's armor. Everyone was alive. It was just an illusion.

"Thank Irene." Irena tore away from the embrace with a relieved smile.

"We're going to rest here for the night. In the morning I plan on seeing if I can't find an exorcist to help Malachi out of the castle." Laurance could only slightly move his head to look at the ghost child. "He really didn't mean any harm. He was never taught to control it."

"I-I understand. I'll gladly help in the search come morning." Irena gave him a smile, before she stood up and walked over to Malachi. Laurance felt a splitting headache the minute he tried to stand up, audibly groaning at it. In an instant Garroth was at his side picking him up.

"Come on, let's get you moving," He instructed. "You've been still for some time."

"How long was I out?" Laurance questioned as he managed to move his feet towards the door, with a bit of help from Garroth.

"Two hours."

"How long were you out?"

"Less than that." It was Garroth's nice way of saying ten minutes or less. He knew how competitive Laurance could be. And how sensitive he could be to potential shadow knight effects. At least, he assumed that was the case. Laurance let out a slightly nervous laugh, letting his hair fall down in front of his eyes as he leaned over part of the castles lower walls. Garroth wasn't quite sure how he felt about how pretty Laurance looked. Maybe he was just happy to see him relaxed after being caught in that illusion for so long.

"Care to tell me what you saw?" Garroth considerably tensed up.

"I'd rather not."

"I could tell you what I saw. Means it's less likely to actually happen." Garroth didn't respond. He'd made it clear that he wasn't going to give details on his vision, but he wasn't objecting to Laurance sharing. It might be nice to know what he was worried about.

"If you'd like to, you may." Laurance sighed.

"There's no easy way to put this... I lost control. I saw the future where I gave into every cruel thought ever put into my head in that hell." Laurance shuddered at the memory, and at the cold sweeping around him. "I need you to promise me you won't let it come to that." Garroth knew exactly what Laurance was saying, but he was unsure if he could promise it. Especially with the sudden feelings for Laurance he was barely coming to terms with.

"I..." Garroth's sentence trailed off. He felt truly tongue tied. Normally Irena would know just what to say, but she was likely comforting Malachi or Dante. "I pray to Irene it never comes to that."

"I do as well." Laurance shivered again, which made Garroth laugh slightly. He took off his own cloak and tossed it at Laurance, who caught it with a confused expression.

"Go get warm by the fire. I'll keep watch tonight." Garroth didn't leave any room to argue. Laurance gave him a half-hearted smile before trudging inside as he wrapped Garroth's cloak around himself. Laurance kept a safe distance from the fire, even though Malachi had already gone to bed and Irena was on the other side of the room talking to her new guard. It left Laurance to just sit on the floor staring into the flames.

It was something he often did as a child. Laurance was incredibly rowdy while he was growing up. it was hard to keep him focused or still for very long. Except on cold winter nights when his father would put a log on a fire and go off to bed. Cadenza and Laurance would sit and watch the flames for hours, often falling asleep in front of the fireplace as a result. It was always something that held his attention, that caused some kind of fascination. Something he never quite understood.

This time Laurance could barely look at the fire for a few minutes before turning his head away and leaning against the wall in a way that it would be out of view. He could still faintly feel some warmth from it, but he couldn't stand to keep looking at it. It just reminded him of that all to real vision. Laurance draped Garroth's heavy cloak over his curled up body like a blanket. It actually made sleep come to him very easily in spite of the cold. It was almost like Garroth was holding him...

Sleep didn't last long. It felt like the moment Laurance was able to dream, just the flash of Irena's terrified face jolted him awake. And the moment Laurance was awake, he was cold. The fire was starting to die from nobody attending it, even if Irena and her guard were sleeping around it. Laurance's eyes darted to the closed door. If they were cold inside, how was Garroth faring outside?

He tried to be quiet in his movements, but if this guard was any good, he definitely knew Laurance was sneaking past them. He ducked out of the castle quickly, shoving the door behind him and coming face to face with a very confused Garroth. Well, the helmet hid his expression, but Laurance had seen enough of his face to make a guess at what it looked like.

"L-Laurance? What are you doing out here?" Garroth asked.

"Couldn't sleep," Laurance replied quickly, before shoving Garroth's cloak onto him. "You sound like you're freezing."

"You do too." Laurance brought his arms around himself, pulling at the edges of his cape.

"Nah, I-I'll be f-f-fine." Garroth resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Practicality overtook emotion. Garroth pulled his cloak on, fastening the clasp, before grabbing Laurance's arm and walking him over to the small onning that came off the eastern part of the castle wall. Laurance glanced up at him confused, but his vision was quickly filled when Garroth brought an arm around him and held him close.

Nearly instantly Laurance was filled with warmth as Garroth pulled his cloak across their bodies. It was the best way to conserve warmth. And the most romantic. It was like a scene out of one of Laurance's stupid fantasies he would have while daydreaming at the academy while pretending to pay attention. But this was real. It felt real. Laurance's blood usually ran cold, but in this moment, he felt a lot warmer than he had since coming back.

"Are you comfortable?" Garroth almost whispered. Laurance just nodded, snuggling into Garroth. More points of contact meant heat would be generated faster. That was the excuse. Laurance always had plenty of them. He knew Garroth would need them any time they got intimate together. "Rest well."

"Don't think I can," Laurance admitted. "But I don't mind being out here with you." Garroth didn't ask why, he didn't need to. Instead he let silence settle and the winter winds to whip it away. Laurance's body had been unusually cold, but he seemed to be warming up now. His body was still capable of generating heat, which would be key to him surviving these conditions. It just meant he had to share heat with someone.

"Would you like to know what I saw?" Laurance nodded.

"If you don't mind telling me."

"I just figured that you told me your to help ensure it doesn't happen. I-I'd like to ask you do the same."

"Gladly." Despite not sleeping, Laurance was usually a man of many words. Except when he was really tired. It may not have been obvious to anyone else, but Garroth could tell when Laurance started giving one word or one sentence responses.

"I saw Zane return to Phoenix Drop. I saw him... I saw him hurt people I care about, including you." Laurance let out a small hum. He liked to hear Garroth admit he cared about him. "A-And there wasn't anything I could do about it."

"But that's not true."

"Hm?"

"You don't trust Zane. You won't fall for his deceptions a second time."

"L-Laurance, I don't know if I can bring myself to harm my own brother."

"Even if he tried to kill us, again?"

"Would you not be conflicted if it were Cadenza?"

"Cadenza wouldn't be so obvious about it though." Garroth laughed gently at Laurance's argument. "She'd be way better at being secretly evil. Your brother has already let the mask slip too far down." Laurance snuggled further into Garroth's embrace, a burst of warmth coming from his body as he did. "We're gonna be fine."

"If you say so." In spite of his paranoia, Garroth did mean those words. He believed what Laurance said. He knew that when it came down to it, he would throw his own life into danger to protect the ones he loved, and if that meant striking down his brother in the process, he would do it. And he knew it wouldn't come to that point. Laurance wouldn't let it.

The two lay in silence for the rest of the night. Neither of them slept, but they were able to relax. And when morning came, they never spoke of it.

Laurance bitterly misses the feeling of Garroth's cloak wrapped around him while nearly freezing to death in Gal'ruk. And winters on the Alliance Island get colder than Garroth has ever experienced. He constantly yearns for the feeling of Laurance's breathing on his chest.

Whump quota met.

#aphmau #i dont support aphmau #text post #laurance zvahl #minecraft diaries #minecraft diaries laurance #garroth ro'meave #writing #angst #garrance #garrance week 2023 #garrance week #gay block men #cuddling & snuggling #what if we cuddled for warmth #no homo tho #very straight

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lustfangs · 11 months ago

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Treble clef anon here (𝄞)!

I hope this new piece lives up to my previous standards. Of course, as per your suggestion, we'll be taking a deep dive into the wonderful world of dumbification.

Afterall, what need have you of thoughts - when you're so wet and horny and needy and dumb that all you can think about is how bad you want to be ruined right now?

xxxxxxxxx

It began at work.

It's been a pretty busy month - with calls coming in one way, emails the other, and your boss constantly nagging you about some shit you sent to the wrong person last week, it's astonishing you're even able to keep up. Well... you haven't really been able to keep up that well. Every night you get home so tired you can barely blink without falling asleep, yet the moment you roll laboriously into bed, you're kept awake by the persistent low-level stress of knowing you've got to go to work again tomorrow.

You've thought of getting a therapist, but who has the time for that? Rubbing at your clit at night, awash with the hot flood of an orgasm or three, is all the reprieve you really get from this damn job. And even then, it's so short you barely notice.

So it's another morose, upsettingly boring day when you sit down at your desk, getting a final stretch in before switching on the shitty little company computer and opening the first few emails. They're the normal stuff: finances, shipping, some idiot lost their keys again, etc.

Except, there's one new message. Unknown sender, but you can't be bothered to run up the name. It's probably some newbie who forgot to switch to their work email. Inside, you see some garbled-looking text, obviously photocopied from somewhere, and a file attachment.

Fuck it, might as well, you think, double-clicking your way through. It's some kind of webcam app - your beleaguered old in-built cam blips to life, a dim light in its corner to show it's somehow still shambling on. On your screen, you just see your face. Haggard, strained, and shadowed with eye bags darker than your eyeliner, you look about as miserable as you feel. Across this dour screen flashes a message. Quick, subtle, but you catch it.

"Blink twice"

Hell, why not. You blink twice.

"Good girl."

Your cheeks flush, that light red startlingly noticeable in the slightly grainy camera footage. Oh, so that's what this is. One of those call-and-response porn bots? You'd heard of them before - hell, you'd been sent them before, whenever some dumbass let their email get hacked - but this one is surprisingly well put-together. Usually, big compilations of these pop up either on youtube or on porn sites, depending on what they ask people to do. Long compilations of tired workers being a little goofy, or a little slutty, into a camera that scrambles their identity when the recording's over.

It's funny, you never thought you'd get caught up in one of these. Maybe you'll be able to get off to it later, when it's inevitably uploaded to the hornier channels of the internet. No new emails. So for now, you keep watching.

"Blink again"

You blink, a damp little spot between your legs.

"Good girl." "You love doing what you're told."

Your breath hitches, the look on your own face enough to send a thrill of lust through your body.

"Nod for me."

Your head bobs once

"You love doing what you're told." "Nod again."

Thank god you're in a cubicle with a door, even if it's just a flimsy bit of cardboard. You nod, mouth slightly agape, and keep staring.

"Good girl." "Show me your tits."

You glance around, making sure nobody's around. Getting up a little, you can see there's even fewer people in than usual. Just you, your boss, and a cleaner. Guess everyone else took the weekend off. Or they're just working from home; you live too close to work not to bother coming in and keeping home separate.

Dropping back down into your seat, you flash your tits - short, sweet, and just long enough that you get an eyeful of yourself, before tucking them back under your shirt.

"Good girl."

The look on your own face is something else. Mouth a little open, tongue just by your lips, you barely manage to restrain yourself from groping at your tits, just dying to see how hot you'd look doing it.

"Again."

They're out in the air before you even realise, and with the click of the far door, you know the janitor's gone for the day. Just you, and your boss in her closed office.

"Touch them."

Your repressed need for some release takes over; groping needily at yourself, you do everything to look as slutty as you can in your reflection - kneading, pinching, pressing them together until your nips are nice and puffy, and you're aching to have them sucked.

"Good girl." "You hate thinking, don't you."

You keep staring, transfixed.

"Nod if you don't want to think"

You've nodded already, and it takes a second for you to realise you actually need to stop. Breath shaky, you drop your hands from your chest, just moving your arms to squish your breasts together and jiggle them a little, chair creaking beneath you.

"Good girl." "Don't think, just nod."

Your head bobs on its own, following the words.

"Don't think." "Take off your shirt."

The cotton lands in a heap on the floor, barely able to contain the instinctual nodding, as you get to see your smooth skin for the first time today. A drop of drool lands on your leg. Where'd that come from?

"Don't think." "Good girls don't think."

Another wet drop on your legs.

"You're a good girl, aren't you?"

You nod vigorously, staring at the image of your own tits.

"Say it."

You stop, suddenly unsure. It feels so good, but... say it? Your mouth forms the words, your head fills with their tune. Will your boss hear you? Surely not, she's behind a closed door afterall?

"Say it."

You raise your head a little over your cubicle wall, just enough to see. She's busy behind her desk with something, barely visible through the slats of her covered office windows. The door is firmly shut.

"I'm a good girl."

"Good girls don't think."

"G- good girls don't think~"

"Good girl." "What are you?"

"I'm a good girl."

"That's right. You're a good girl. And good girls don't think." "Good girls are dumb."

You shift your legs, and feel your own fingers already there, rubbing away at your clit like there's no tomorrow. It's so, so, wet down there, and you can't help yourself now, can you?

"Say it."

"Good girls... are dumb."

"Good girl." "What's your name?"

"I-"

You can't... remember? Your own name? Where was it again - oh, yeah. It's on the floor, on your discarded shirt. You fingers slip inside for a second, and the blind, gasping lust that seizes you refuses to let go, wetly plapping your own hand against your plumply pretty labia, every thought vanishing like smoke.

"What are you?"

"I'm a good girl~"

You whine, eyes rolling over how good you're making yourself feel.

"Your name is slut."

"My name is Slut?"

"Remember, good girls don't think."

"Mnnh~"

You bite your lip, unable to block the low moan sliding out of your throat, your new name locking into place. You should have that put on your... cube ickle? That's a long word.

"Long words are funny." "Good girls are dumb. Long words aren't dumb." "You don't need long words. You're dumb." "What's your name?"

"Slut."

"And what are you, slut?"

"A good girl~"

"And what are good girls?"

"Uhhh..."

You strain your mind to think, absently licking the sweet slick off your own fingers. Humping your hand, creaking the chair, you desperately try to grasp what you were thinking about - was it your wet, aching pussy? No, that's not it. What about this hot feeling between your legs? And how about those cute tits on the screen in front of you? Yeah, that makes sense!

"Good girls are dumb." "My, you really are a good girl."

"Mmhm..."

"So what are you, slut?"

"Uhm... I'm..."

"You're a dumb slut. That's what."

Your whole body trembles as the pleasure suddenly washes over you, hips rolling your sloppy pussy onto your fingers, helplessly riding them as you stare at the pretty slut on the screen.

"Stand up"

You shoot to your feet, tits bouncing as you try to keep fingering yourself, even standing up. Oh look, you're boss' door is open. Wow, has she always been this hot? You shoot a look back down at the screen.

"Cum in my office." "Edge until you reach me. Kneel every time you get close."

You follow the pretty instructions, dumb brain shorting out every time you get so, so close, and dropping to your knees, dripping wet juice all over the floor each time. By the fifth time, you're right by her door, and fat tears are rolling down your face as you grope desperately at your tits instead of your puffy pussy. Finally, you step inside. The office is decorated all in black, as is your boss, her chest and thick cock both straining against her clothes. Standing there, you fingerfuck yourself for her pleasure, squealing with need as the floor soaks in your juices, the smell of sex wafting through the room.

She just watches, clicking a pen.

Why is it so hard now? you think, mashing your clit so hard you're crying all over again. Let me cum for her! I want to cum for her! I'm a good girl! Good girls are dumb! I'm dumb slut! Dumb slut want cum! Just those words flash through your mind, and soon enough you're saying them out loud.

"I'm a good girl! Good girls are dumb!"

"Yes, my dear. Good girls are dumb. And you're such a perfect, pretty, dumb little girl for me, aren't you~?"

The orgasm comes with a scream, dropping you to your knees, then onto your face, as wet cum squirts against the glass of her office, thumping dully in the heart-pounding quiet. Your breaths are nothing but moans and whines, your poor mind gone completely. Just a fuzzy haze left, mumbling something into the wet carpet as trembles wrack your body, showing off your pretty back, and your pretty cheeks, to your new master. Wasn't she your boss already~?

~~~~~~

tadaa! I can do a part two if you like Something tells me your boss won't be satisfied with just watching you lose your mind in front of her.

I get the feeling she wants to keep you.

But who am I, the author, to decide such things?

P.S. I hope you feel a little better now, and hopefully you'll have an easier time of it than before.

Treble clef anon you are my savior!!!! I’ve missed you <33 please send that second part over I’ve been so busy lately :((

#nsft #bd/sm blog #nsft text #rough cnc #nsft concept #cnc k!nk #* zel answers.

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depraved-gf · 1 year ago

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I know you aren't a therapist, but an analyst. Still, you "oddly" feel like a safe space; and I just don't know what to do with this. I lost my best friend a few months ago. My dog, Morgan. He meant everything to me and went where I went. Rarely left my side. I was careless one day, and he crossed a dangerous street. I turned a corner close to my house and saw him on the other side of the avenue. I didn't think, I instinctively called his name, he looked up; saw me, and ran towards me. A car ran him over, and I saw everything happen. I ran over, but the damage was too great. I heard him choke and felt his last little heartbeat in my own hands, life took him away from me. And it was my own fault. I had never loved anything as much as I loved him, and pictured us traveling to distant places again, together. I wanted to see him grow old and grey and take him out on a stroller when his little paws couldn't bear him anymore. I wanted to hold him when he passed, but never like this. Never ever like this. I can't forgive myself for this. I grabbed what I could pack in the back of my car and left the place I was living in with him. The shadows of the walls sit silently, and vacant; as they wait for my return. I don't want to go back. I can't. His ashes wait there too, I had a friend of mine pick him up and take him there. I was gone long before they started to turn him back to dust. WHY? I just don't understand.

I'm sorry if this makes you upset. This hollow I call grief overspills from time to time; don't worry. It's like a star's light, coming in waves, and slowly dimming.

hi, love. I may not be in practice atm, but I do have a degree in Psych (and thank you for the honor of feeling like a safe space - that really means so much to me). I've lost a pet (and people) in very tragic ways myself, so I'm hoping that maybe I can ease some of this heartbreak...

Firstly, sweetpea, you have the right to grieve however you wish. If being away from that space is what you need, you take all the time in the world if that's what you require. You do what YOU need to stay well and don't feel one ounce of sorry for it.

Secondly, it's the most tragic and unfair thing in the world to lose someone so precious to us, especially when it's unexpected and we have to watch the outcome, isn't it? Feels like you can't breathe sometimes, memories replay the most when we're trying to sleep, or move about our day.. It's painful and the guilt can be insurmountable. But most importantly, I don't want you to continue to hurt and blame yourself here. There's no blame needed to be given, love - no justice needed to be faulted on someone for an action. A series of actions has happened, and that's all this is. That's all anything in this life is really, baby. And sometimes, much to our dismay, they're very unfortunate. This just happens to be one of those times.

Lastly... And I want you to remember this part the most: No matter how much time you had with him, beautiful Morgan lived his life with the person he cared for the most - and he was in this same person's hands when he crossed the rainbow bridge. That in itself is the biggest blessing. Morgan lived and passed with someone who gave him a warm home, food, and an unfathomable amount of love - I can tell just by the way you write about him. Though he's not with us, Morgan lived the happiest life a dog could ever wish for. And though it's unfortunate he couldn't be with us longer, please be at peace knowing that you were the one who gave him such a wonderful life. He loved you with every ounce that his little doggy body and heart could. And he always will.

I don't know if you believe in an afterlife, but I do believe that somewhere, sometime after we've left this Earth, we are able to reunite with our loved ones. Whatever that looks like, be it a simple energy, or physical representations, etc. I may not be religious myself, but I firmly believe we'll see them again. There's too much we don't know about this world to believe that life and death is simply it. That's just me, though.

Overall, please, be well, sweet anon. Give yourself a much needed break. You more than deserve it. <3

PS, I like the way you described grief. I describe it in ocean waves myself. There's somethin' real pretty and ethereal about this planet and universe, isn't there?

#ask repressedh0e #Ask Psych repressedh0e

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pof203 · 2 years ago

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A Summoner Birthday

Previous post: https://pof203.tumblr.com/post/721440855573020672/a-summoner-birthday

Battle ahead.

Enemies:

Blue Fencer

Fire Mage

Water Wraith

Red Yaksha

???

Preselected Characters:

Lupin

Wakan Tanka∞

Maria

Bigfoot

Choji

Selected Support Character:

Masked Ball Christine

Story (Chapter 2 Part 2)

Here we go!

Boundless Tail!!

With that last blow, you managed to defeat the Wicked Stepmother and Stepsibling as they start to regain their true selves.

FLASH

Oh my goodness! What are we doing here?!

I don't know. I remember that we sat down to watch television, then suddenly, we're here. Wherever hear is. And why is Lupin here, too?

Lupin: The TV you were watching. Does it by any chance connect to the Internet.

Babalon: I'm not sure how that helps, but yes. A lot of television sets connect to the Internet these days.

Then I guess we better get you up to speed.

One explanation later...

Arc: So, we're back in Boogeyman's world.

Boogeyman's Voice: Pretty much. Are you upset?

Arc: More like surprised. If I had known Lupin and his friends would be coming here for his birthday, I would have come in case of trouble.

Lupin: I just didn't want to cause you trouble.

But do not worry. As soon as we find all the breakers and reboot the system, we'll be able to send everyone back.

Babalon: I hope you can... (suspicious) I just hope you can do it with an Invader around.

I'm a little hurt to hear that. Was I really that bad during that time?

Lupin: You were just going through some issues and I help you get through them. You were never bad at all.

Arc: I know Lupin and I don't get along very well, but I know he's a good judge of character. If he says you're not bad, even during the Invaders' move, then he's right.

Wakan Tanka: I know. And I thank you for that, My Lupin.

You take each other's hand and then embraced happily.

Bigfoot happy to see Wakan Tanka happy. Wakan Tanka and Heyoka happier together. Makes Bigfoot happy.

Arc: (shocked) Hold on, I just realized something.

Babalon: What is it, dear daughter?

Arc: This story we're in, I know it, too.

Maria: So?

Arc: Well, in the story, the girl had two wicked stepsiblings. But it was just me and Mother here.

Babalon: Come to think of it, you're right. Where's... (shocked) Oh my goodness!

Maria: What's wrong?

Babalon: I just remembered. Before me and Arc went to watch our show... I saw Azathoth playing an online game. You don't think...

Lupin: That he might be the other Wicked Stepsibling?

Arc: If that's so, where is he?

Maria: If I have to guess... He's already at the ball.

Arc: Then we have to get to him.

Lupin: (checking the map) The map says that the breaker is at the palace where the ball is. But it says the palace is still a ways from here.

Babalon: (taking one of the pumpkins) Then we have no time to lose.

Maria: (confused) Are you going to...

Babalon: Why not? In this virtual world, magic works like a charm. And I'm ready to do my part for my family and friends.

Bipedid... Bobbili...

Poof.

In an instant, the pumpkin transforms into... an orange stretch limo.

Choji: That's amazing! Volos is never gonna believe this.

Maria: It's beautiful... And modern.

From Wicked Stepmother to Fairy Godmother in a snap.

Babalon waves her wand again to Arc and their clothes change.

Now this is much more appropriate for this world. Let's go!

We get into the limo and Babalon drives us off to the palace.

In the palace, the ball was in full swing as dancers glide through the room. Sitting on the throne was who we were expecting to be.

That's right, everyone, just dance. It's gonna be okay... For me, that is! *maniacal laugh*

Babalon: (worried) Azathoth, please stop this!

Azathoth?: Mother! You and Arc have arrived. Just watch, I'm about to make you the proudest mother ever once I've captured the Prince's heart... Speaking of which, there he is now. Welcome, Prince Cthulhu.

You can tell that he's talking about you.

Lupin: Hey, you're good kid and all, but I already have someone and I love him dearly.

Wicked Stepbrother: I see that... But you can do way better.

Bigfoot: (upset) What that mean?

Wicked Stepbrother: Why would you want to be with him? You only like him just because he's popular, just like everyone else. But when he was a god and you realized you had the power to take that from him, you saw it as your chance to have him all to yourself.

Wakan Tanka: (tearing up) ...

Lupin: That's not true! I did what I did because I truly love him and he loves me.

Wicked Stepbrother: (scoffing) Last I heard, he loves everybody. What makes you so different?

Bigfoot: (sternly) Because he Heyoka. Wakan Tanka love Heyoka then, love Heyoka now. And Heyoka love Wakan Tanka.

Wicked Stepbrother: Though I don't understand why he would love him in that powerless state. Prince Cthulhu, you and that Invader were both gods, yet you took that away so you could have him all to yourself... But me, I can be way better than him. I am like you. You will be mine.

I understand that you want to make Mother happy, but this forcing Lupin to love you is not the way to do it.

Babalon: It hurts me to see you like this.

Wicked Stepbrother: We've said enough! Bring the Prince to me, my dancers!

Wakan Tanka: (determine) No!

Wakan Tanka and the others try to protect to you, but there are too many dancers to fight off. You try to fight them, but they quickly pick you up and take you to the Wicked Stepbrother who then tried to wrap you up in his tentacles.

Wicked Stepbrother: Now, Prince Cthulhu, I have won you. You are now mine and mine alone.

You try to fight off the tentacles as the Wicked Stepbrother tries to lean in to kiss you.

Wakan Tanka: (losing his temper) THAT'S ENOUGH!!

Wakan Tanka runs through the dancers and grabs the Wicked Stepbrother by his shirt, pulling him away.

Wakan Tanka: (burning with energy) I know Heyoka is the prize in the Game, but that's no reason to treat him this way. He has made up his mind. Though this does not mean I have officially won the Game, he decided to be with me... You think I have completely lost my godhood?

FLASH

Then you need to think again.

With one hit from his fist, Wakan Tanka∞ frees you from the Wicked Stepbrother's grasp and you rejoin the others.

Wicked Stepbrother: (angry) You don't frighten me. I will defeat you!

Bigfoot: (determine) Wakan Tanka and Lupin together! You no take him away.

I make sure that.

Guess it's time to get cooking. You ready, Maria?

Maria: This is suppose to be a story about the character my clothes are based on, but Azathoth's warped mind is change the story, and not for the better.

Lupin: Don't worry, we'll fix it.

You take Wakan Tanka∞'s hand.

Lupin: Together.

Wakan Tanka∞ smiles happily to you.

The battle begins.

To be continued...

#my birthday #birthday #tokyo afterschool summoners #housamo #babalon #arc #choji iimori #maria (housamo)#wakan tanka #bigfoot #azathoth #wakan tanka infinity

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the-firebird69 · 10 months ago

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We do have other things happening full scale of tax occurring on the Trump streets globally they are attacking them to get them out of their f****** way. They're pulling them out of office and firing them today and they're making sure they stay out they're losers start to finish and there's nothing anyone can do about it we hear our stories but right now their leadership posts are cut down to about 60% of what they were last year and 10% went today.

You're going after the money and the money centers and they're taking out huge amounts of money from accounts and he stole the money from people they're taking their own money out they said we don't know why we're letting you sit with it you don't protect it and you're not keeping it from the empire and you're not keeping it from other people and you're a lazy slum and they're each going after what money they took and it's working

Thor Freya

Olympus

A friend here said it months ago and nobody did that's the right thing to do and it's working

Bja

I'm going ahead and doing it and take my money back this fool has had enough they'll get all the banks again this ridiculous

Tommy f

We're going to be in it together one way or the other and I hope hostilities reduce on us a lot of it is led by Trump and he's an a****** he thought he'd break you guys up and ruin your day and take more stuff and it is it is happening this way right now we are taking our share and we're going to go ahead and taking all out and we're going to own it and he's going to come at everybody and lose

Mac daddy

I'm putting all the weight on you is wrong and people keep doing it it's led by these trumpsters or idiots oh man they're fanatically f****** annoying

Daniel

Cuz other people here watching their stupid skits they can't believe how awful it is they're fooled by the Max and they just keep hanging on to it and pissing everybody off of themselves and dying cuz Trump thinks he's AI boy

Thor Freya

He's not AI boy he's AI man he says every time that stupid sucker and I seen computers that are massive and his is only like a mile it's teeny by comparison these these computers were 20 miles across and their Mac computers some of them with a plan and they're extremely powerful and they're running armies of robots that lost I mean they lost against huge numbers of troops and his max are after some serious quandary these these Giants are massive Trump is after them too and he's getting pushed out acts like it's nothing wants to go after some defunct laser was taken out by a small fleet I mean that guy's a fool we have to do something more than what we're doing now

Bja

You want to open factories and you said we should he's got a whole bunch of chassis and tons of stuff that he can sell and we'll have a technique to make sure you're making vehicles for our people doesn't care if we make it just for hours eventually get bigger and it goes overseas and stuff I do see what he's saying you don't want to have a whole bunch of weird trucks driving stuff around it shouldn't and we get the fact that we like a lot of small cars and we want to do that and this assholes in the way trying to blow up plants and things like that so you got to add security and since you have the airspace to a degree might be able to protect them and if that happens people get mad at them some people are willing to work under those circumstances because they hate them but it is that people's discretion but really the weight would become more on them instead of less and eventually they will won't be able to do stuff and there's already factories like that all over the world and he's saying that and I agree people are doing it already

Bja

We're going to be getting starting to do that we know what he's saying and all the stuff is just going to run cuz this one moron I'm going to pull them out of there

Mac daddy

I'm getting our share too out of the banks and everything this guy is a f****** fool I'm sitting there on it seeing you run the bank he doesn't have control and share and we're pulling them out all day and night from now on he's coming up the money and we're going to take care of it they're walking by and threatening him as we're ripping the living s*** out of them this guy is a f****** fool

Macs

We're going after them too taking them down they come back and pull them away take care of them I mean they were running things only for like 5 years cuz that was huge attitude saying they still run stuff I'm ridiculous

Minority morlocks and we're taking our share too and we're going into the banks and we're recording the areas off and yeah we're Dustin a lot this is going to be piles of these stupid m************

It's time to go home we think

Olympus

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scgarhigh · 3 months ago

Text

eyes roll at the mention of his twin and the cheesy movies he'd forced them to sit through, but the smile on his face is one of pure endearment. his brother truly his best friend. the one who'd been first to notice the change in him when he and lucian began to date. " well, i hope you like mean girls. it's about to be the only thing he wants to watch with the holidays coming up. whatever you do, don't try and tell him it's not a christmas movie. " heart flutters, still gets giddy after all this time. still feels the same rush of excitement as he did in the beginning. thinks he'll feel it forever, always think of himself as the luckiest unluckiest person in the world. because as much as so much tends to turn to shit, this . . . lucian choosing him to love, eradicates all the bad. " alright, then we'll go to a cooking class. if the only thing i can make by the end of it is a non-cremated grilled cheese, then we'll consider it a win. " and spending time together, trying something new . . . that could never be a waste. smile grows wider when the other hoists him onto the counter, and the moment their bodies are close, cruz wraps his legs around the taller males frame. another thing that hasn't changed — the need to be closer than logic allows. always trying to find a way to pull him in more. " good, " he hums, truly content. " 'cause i wanna stick around for a really long time. " forever, he thinks. forever. until the end. until their old, grey. when everyone else fades away, ages. leaves. as long as they're together he can imagine a future far longer than he was ever able to before. lips touch his and his brows furrow, an ache forming at the thought. no one had ever asked to take him away before. knows it's likely because most people always expected from lucian, because of his stance, his money. the last two things that came to cruz's mind. hands reach up, caress his face. thumb brushing along his lower lip. " so i get to be the first ? " he teases, tries to put a more positive spin on it. " dig out your rain boots, " he chuckles, wears a proud smile. " it's not gonna be a fun in the sun type of vacation. "

there's not many things that could willingly convince lucian to spend his increasingly dwindling free time taking a class. but feeling like he was giving something to cruz that he clearly cared about would be it (even though lucian insisted they could just order dinner every night, he didn't care). easy crooked grin spreads over his mouth, lips curling back, "baby, you're not a bad anything. but i'll take one with you. its cute as shit - straight out of one of those cheesy ass romance movies dante made us watch." his eyebrows wiggle over his face, mood too good to hide - thats just how it seemed to be with cruz, "you know there's not a damn thing in this world i wouldn't do with you. anyways, not like its a real fuckin' class with a grade and shit. you'll be fine, baby boy." the prospect of a cooking class date is pushed somewhere into the back of his mind as cruz latches onto his shirt and tugs; its feels like it pulls straight through him and lucian wished that he could open himself up, hold cruz inside of him for a bit. "i'd never get tired of you." hands move to rest on the backs cruz's thighs, easily lifting him onto the counter and spreading cruz's legs to slot himself in the space it created. he wants to laugh, but some part of him feels like that would create something between them that cruz wouldn't understand - he explains first, "you wanna take me somewhere? no one ever asks that." his head dips forward, pressing chaste kisses against cruz's mouth, "take me anywhere you want, baby boy. i'll follow you anywhere."

#littlcfreaks #cruz.#cruz \ lucian.#this got so long

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mxacegrey · 2 years ago

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The Masked Part 6

Fandom: Fate the Winx Saga

Pairings: Sky x reader, Riven x reader, Saul Silva x reader (Platonic or otherwise undecided)

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 FATE THE WINX SAGA UNDER THE CUT!! Descriptions of violence. swearing, hints of child abandonment and off-screen character death.

Series Masterlist

“He's not coming." Bloom stated to the seemingly empty woods after her little conversation to Sebastian.

“What did he say?” Rosalind asked, walking up to her after the Solarian troops turned visible.

“‘We'll work something out.’" Bloom quoted.

“Ah.” Rosalind replied.

“I think he knows what we're up to.” Bloom explained, shivering slightly.

“It wouldn't surprise me. Bavani is convinced he's got spies everywhere.” Rosalind retorted.

“I trust every soldier here.” Silva said to Rosalind.

“Six more fairies drained. In six different regions of Solaria.” Rosalind turned her head, head tilted to the side.

“You think he's stalling for time.” Silva stated, causing Rosalind to raise her eyebrows in response.

"Every day out in the world, he's gathering strength. With more Blood Witches. More magic. He'll be stronger than me soon. We just have to hope we can stop him before he's stronger than Bloom.” Rosalind explained.

Meanwhile, Silva had placed you in ‘house arrest’, ensuring no-one would know you were a blood witch too. A ring on the phone next to you had you pause the show you were watching on your laptop.

“Virgil!” You exclaimed, smiling happily.

“Darling! Where are you?” His voice replied.

“Campus. I’ll meet you by the border.” You replied before you hung up. Quickly dressing in a smart causal outfit, you slipped your laptop into a messenger bag and peeked your head out of the door. You walked down the corridor as quickly as you could but hid behind a wall as you saw Beatrix and Sky having a little discussion. You noticed Beatrix handing Sky a familiar book before walking away, however not before a final glare was thrown his way.

“Shit!” You cursed under your breath before running away to a weak spot outside of the barrier. As you ran towards Virgil’s figure, you noticed two figures standing by the barrier further down. Virgil’s arms were opened wide as you walked into them, hugging him for the first time since the summer. As you stepped into his arms, the barrier behind you turned a turquoise blue before solidifying. “Well, let’s just hope no-one comes looking for me.”

Virgil pushed you away gently before the two of you headed for a coffee shop nearby. You noticed some more familiar faces sitting in a secluded area of the shop, drinks and food before them.

“Hey!” / “Hi!” / “Took your time!” / “Afternoon.” came the four sitting down. They had sat in a manner that allowed you and Virgil to share a seat, before placing two mugs in front of you.

“So let the meeting of the grey wolves commence.” You smiled at the rest.

“So what’s the latest?” Virgil asked, holding his mug in his hands as he leaned back into the sofa.

“Well, the fairies we’ve gotten in the last 3 years have gotten stronger. They are now able to branch into other forms of fairy magic.” One of the fire fairies, Adara, explained. “Oh! And our spies have got parts of Rosalind’s and the Winx suite’s plan.”

“The specialists are fine. They’ve got their fairies and they all work really well together.” The specialists siblings, Aife and Fallon, stated. Fallon was sitting next to Adara while his sister was sitting next to the other blood witch present.

“And Hunter? What about you?” You looked at the witch in question.

“The witches are strong individually, though not to the extent of Valtor. But if we work together then we are as strong as him.” Hunter explained before mentioning his spy in Sebastian’s midst. “Our spy in Valtor’s ranks did let slip some of his plans. Apparently he’s meeting with Bloom, right now about your uncle’s book.”

After the ‘formal’ meeting was done, the group spend time together laughing and joking like they haven’t for a while. After dark, you all split ways, Fallon and Aife went with Adara and Hunter with Virgil. You headed back to the barrier alone only to discover ash as you walked past. Your trail led you towards the graveyard where Bloom stood before the burnt body of Rosalind, her friends coming up behind her.

“I lost control.” Bloom stated, eyes never once leaving the body before her. With a frustration groan, you unlocked your phone to text the group.

Grey Wolves

You

Prepare for war.

#sky x reader #sky fate winx saga #riven x reader #riven fate winx saga #saul silva imagine #saul silva x reader #blood witch reader #specialist reader #fate the winx saga #fate the winx saga season 2 spoilers

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to-be-a-dreamer · 2 years ago

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Julie and the Phantoms AU

What's going on y'all I've been enabled so now y'all get some half-baked angst!

Huge thanks to @we-are-inevitable for helping me finish this AU because it's been sitting on the back burner for literal months and I could never figure out all the details on my own.

CW: death, homophobia, terminal illness, emotional abuse

Okay, so! Here's the characters we're working with (they're not perfect stand-ins, this is just the general role they'll be fulfilling in the story)

Jack Kelly - Julie Molina

Racetrack Higgins - Rose Molina (he's Jack's younger brother tho)

Charlie Morris- Carlos Molina

Medda Larkin - Ray Molina

Spot Conlon - Flynn Taylor

David Jacobs - Luke Patterson

Sarah Jacobs - Alex Mercer

Albert DaSilva - Reggie Peters

Katherine Pulitzer - Willie

Joseph Pulitzer - Caleb Covington

Bryan Denton - Tia Victoria

Don't ask about Nick and Carrie, we don't talk about them, they've caused me so many problems in this AU. There's a version floating around in my brain with Spot and Race as Nick and Carrie. I've been through some things.

ANYWHO I have no idea how to structure this post because there is so much going on so we're just gonna start and hope for the best. I think we'll go by character and talk about where each of them is at the beginning of the story because I don't 100% know how everything fits together yet. Fingers crossed that this is somewhat comprehensible.

(Also, in case you haven't watched the show, Luke, Reggie, and Alex are all members of the band Sunset Curve, who died in 1995 before manifesting as ghosts in 2020. So when I'm talking about David, Sarah, Albert, and Les, their backstories take place in 1995)

Jack Kelly

Jack loves music, it’s basically his entire life. He spends all his free time out in the garage writing and playing songs with his little brother, Race. They would always talk about making it big one day and becoming a famous singing duo. But really what Jack loved was being able to share something special with his brother. He never felt closer to Race than when they were making music together. The two of them would sit side-by-side at the piano with their youngest brother, Charlie, and their adoptive mother, Medda, listening to them play and joining in when they knew the words. Those impromptu little concerts with the three people he loved most in the world were some of the happiest memories of Jack’s life.

Then Race got sick. Then Jack had to watch his fun-loving, goofy, energetic little brother waste away in a hospital bed so quickly it made Jack’s head spin. Then Jack was left with a garage full of instruments he couldn’t bear to play and half-written songs he didn't know how to finish.

He's still close with his mom and Charlie, but there's been a... shift... in the air around the house. He's written some short poems, but nothing substantial, nothing like what he used to write with Race. Jack doesn't play the piano anymore. He doesn't sing in the car or the kitchen like he used to. He hasn't even so much as hummed since Race died. He can't. Every time he even considers making music all he can think about is Race using what little strength he had left to ask Jack to sing for him one last time. All he can see is his little brother taking his last breaths as Jack sang him a soft, desperate plea. ("You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Oh, please don't take my sunshine away")

Jack doesn't want to sing anymore. He can't sing anymore. So he doesn't. He tries to pretend that he doesn't need music anymore and just goes on with his life as best he can. He cheers at Charlie's Buddy Ball games and helps his Ma cook dinner every night and bothers his Uncle Denton at work and laughs with his best friend, Spot, and does everything he can to ignore the gaping hole in his heart.

He doesn't need music. Not really. He doesn't even want to make music without Race there to do it with him.

Jack Kelly does not need music.

He doesn't.

Don't ask why he still signs up to be in the music program the next school year. Don't ask why he can't bear to sell his keyboard like he told Medda he was planning to. Don't ask why he's so so disappointed in himself when he can't bring himself to just play when he's told he has one last chance to participate in music class before he gets kicked out.

It doesn't matter.

David Jacobs

David loves music, it’s basically his entire life. He loves singing, he loves playing guitar, he loves writing songs, he loves everything about it. He lives and breathes music, he doesn't want to do anything with his life other than make music to share with the world. That's the whole problem.

His parents have always told him he has great "potential". That he's smart enough to get into the top universities in the country and to get a full-ride basically anywhere. All he has to do is focus on his studies and fill out his resume with extracurriculars and work experience. Apparently, spending every waking hour of the day writing songs and rehearsing with his band doesn't count as "extracurriculars" to them.

He knows they just want what's best for him, he knows they just want him to get into a good college and get a good job one day. He knows that. But he just wishes they would understand that music is what he's passionate about, it's what he loves, and it's the only thing that makes him feel truly alive. David knows he's smart, he knows he could probably go to some big-shot college and become a lawyer or a doctor or something but he doesn't want to. He wants to write songs and share them with the world. He wants to do something actually meaningful with his life.

It's... tense... at home, to say the least. His parents get mad every time he brings home any grade less than an A, which is becoming increasingly more common as Sunset Curve, the band Davey started with his twin sister, Sarah, and their two best friends, Albert and Bobby, has started gaining some real traction in Hollywood. (I think Bobby is still Bobby, it doesn't really change anything about the story so he might morph into one of the Delanceys at some point, I dunno) His mom keeps signing him up for after-school activities against his wishes and then gets upset when he blows off the meetings to rehearse with the band. His dad keeps trying to get him a job at the company he works for but Davey never sticks around long enough for him to set up an interview. He manages to pacify them a bit by volunteering as an assistant coach for his little brother, Les's, little league team, but it barely helps.

The last straw for David is the day his sister, Little Miss Perfect Sarah, who had always followed every single outrageous rule and expectation his parents gave her, manages to work up the courage to come out to their parents and they act like she just confessed to a murder. There's a lot of yelling and, for the first time in his life, David worries that his mother might hit Sarah, she looks so angry. His sister leaves the house with tears streaming down her face and David moves to follow her before realizing he would be leaving Les alone with his parents looking absolutely murderous. He doesn't think they would actually hurt Les, but he's not taking any chances.

As David sits in bed with his little brother curled up at his side and trying to block out the sound of his parents fighting with each other over whose "fault" this was, David finally accepts what he's always tried to deny.

His parents would never truly accept him. He'd always wondered if he just did what they wanted, if he just worked hard to keep his grade up and joined all the clubs they wanted and got into a good college and got a good job that they would be proud of him. He had convinced himself that they would, that he was choosing their disappointment by pursuing a career in music.

But now he knew better. If they could manage to go from looking at his sister as if she'd hung the stars in the sky to borderline disowning her in a split second, they could never truly love him. Their love was and always had been conditional, and David had no intentions of fulfilling those conditions just to be accepted by the people who had never even tried to understand him.

Sarah came back after spending a couple nights at the studio (aka, Bobby's garage) but it didn't change David's mind. His mother kept insulting Sarah every chance she got and his father wouldn't even look at her. The twins spent a lot of time writing songs together at the studio, avoiding their parents together. Sarah insists that she's okay, that she had expected their parents to react the way they did and she just wanted to wait out the storm until they hopefully came around. David sees straight through her lie but doesn't comment on it.

David isn't sure what does it. But one day he's finally had enough. He comes home with yet another B- on an English paper and endures the lecture from his father and the screaming from his mother with a blank stare and no emotion in his heart other than mild disgust. Then he goes to his room, packs as much as he can into a duffle bag, and heads straight to Sarah's room. She knows exactly what he's doing without a single word exchanged between them.

"So that's it, huh?" "Come with me." "Davey, I can't" "Sarah, they're never going to change! Never. I know you want to fix things with them but there's nothing to fix. They never loved us. Not really. Not in the way you want them to." "Don't you think I know that? I'm not stupid, Davey, I know this isn't the way things are supposed to be but it's the way things are. And I- I know it's pathetic but I want them to love me. I want my parents back. So... so I have to try, Davey, just let me try." "...Fine. You know where to find me once you've had enough of their bullshit." "What should I tell Les?" "I- I'll figure that out later. I'll skip class and catch him at school before he gets on the bus and say goodbye then. I just. I can't stay here another second."

So Davey leaves and hides out at the studio. He never manages to catch Les in time to talk to him but Sarah tells him plenty of stories about what's going on at home. It took his parents three days to realize he was gone. They weren't happy. Davey couldn't care less about their happiness.

His parents don't even try to get him to come home, which just reinforces Davey's certainty that he did the right thing. According to Sarah, they're "waiting him out", expecting him to come running back to them within a week.

Davey never sees his parents again.

He's not particularly bothered.

Davey spends all of his time writing songs about anything and everything. Some of it meaningless, most of it not. He's never been that great at talking to people, so he pours every pent-up emotion he's been feeling for years into his songs. His anger towards his parents, his pleas to his sister, his regrets about his brother, his desperation to make something of himself. He writes about all of it. Some of the songs make it onto Sunset Curve's setlist, but most of them stay in his song journal.

His grades don't get any better or worse, but Sunset Curve gets big. Or, at least, big for a garage band of self-taught high schoolers with about $12 between the four of them. They start booking bigger and bigger gigs and they even manage to pull some favors and scrape together enough cash to self-record an EP.

Then their big break comes. A featured show at the Orpheum! It's everything Davey and his friends have been working towards for years. It's their chance to make it big, for real. Davey thinks about inviting his parents so they can see that he wasn't delusional, that his dreams weren't just stupid fantasies. But he talks himself out of it almost instantly. He doesn't need to prove anything to them. He doesn't want to prove anything to them. They already showed him their true colors and Davey didn't regret his choices.

The only thing he regrets is that he had to leave Les. His little brother didn't do anything wrong and he was one of the only good things about living in that house. He misses Les every single day and considers going back just for him. Sarah tells him that Les didn't handle his running away well and she can only do so much for him. Their parents haven't been taking out their anger on Les, that's the only thing giving David enough strength to stay away.

He knows it's for the best, he genuinely would have lost his mind if he had to stay in that house any longer. That doesn't make him feel any better.

His songs about Les stay private.

Sarah Jacobs

Sarah likes music. She likes her drums, even if her mother would prefer for her to spend more time practicing piano. She likes helping her brother write songs for their band and goofing off with her friends in the studio. But what she really loves is performing. There's just something about being on a stage in front of a crowd of people, buzzing with energy and knowing that she's about to blow them all away. It makes her feel absolutely electric and leaves no doubt in her mind that this is what she wants to do with the rest of her life.

If only she could muster up the courage to tell her parents that.

She admired Davey for how little he managed to care about what their parents thought. Maybe he just had a passion for music that Sarah lacked. Maybe there was more pressure on him to succeed, therefore it was easier for him to disappoint, and therefore it was easier for him to stop caring in the first place. Maybe she was just a coward.

As much as she knew that it shouldn't matter what her parents thought, as much as she knew she would be better off taking a page out of her brother's book and just doing what made her happy, as much as she knew she had what it took to succeed in music, Sarah wanted nothing more than for her parents to be proud of her. And that meant keeping her grades above a B, staying in ballet classes, going to a good college, and getting a "real" job.

Sarah hated herself for how well she played the role of Perfect Daughter. She hated how easily she slipped into the pleasant, kind, soft-spoken little girl her parents had raised her to be. She hated how she kept her head down whenever her parents ripped into David for whatever way he'd managed to disappoint them this time. She hated how no one knew who she really was, not even herself.

She wanted to be able to listen to the kind of music she liked and not be scolded for it. She wanted to wear clothes that felt like her and not like she was dressing up in a costume as someone else. She wanted to do and love and enjoy the things that she wanted to do and love and enjoy. She so was sick of pretending to be someone she wasn't. She wanted it to stop. Sarah Jacobs wanted to be herself more than anything else in the world.

Maybe that's why she did it.

Maybe that's why she had looked her mother in the eye and managed to gather up enough courage to be honest with herself for once in her life.

She wasn't sure what she had been expecting.

She knew what she had wanted. She had wanted her mother to prove her wrong. To look at her with the same amount of love and adoration she always had and to tell Sarah that she loved her no matter what she did, no matter who she loved.

Sarah isn't surprised to find herself sobbing alone, curled up on the couch in the studio after listening to two people who were supposed to love her unconditionally call her the vilest names in the English language.

And it hurts. It hurts so so much. She had always known, deep down inside, that her parents would never accept her for who she was. That was why she had always hidden her true self so deep down that even Sarah herself didn't know what her true colors were.

She had always known what would happen when she finally revealed those colors.

But knowing you're about to be stabbed doesn't make it hurt less. It doesn't stop the knife from piercing straight through your chest, making it impossible to breathe through the pain. It doesn't stop you from feeling the blade twisting inside your heart, destroying every last shred of hope.

She goes back home. David tells her to stay at the studio, that he'll take care of her there and that it'll be easier, in the long run, to cut their parents off then and there. She knows he's right. But she can't help but want her parents to love her again. If they had ever truly loved her to begin with.

So she goes back, she endures the anger and the hatred, she watches her brother leave her to pick up the broken pieces of their family all alone, she lets her parents blame her for David leaving, she lets Les scream that he hates her for not stopping him, and she lets him come back an hour later to sob through his apology.

She lets it happen.

And her parents stop screaming at her every time she walks by, resorting to ignoring her as if that meant she didn't exist. And Les stops begging her to convince David to come home, deciding he hates his older brother for leaving him and crying into David's pillow when he thinsk she wasn't looking. And Sarah plays her role of the perfect daughter when they're out in public, resisting the urge to flinch every time her mother puts an arm around her waist with a fake smile plastered on her face.

She had revealed one of her true colors and it had ruined everything.

She didn't regret it for a second.

Charlie Morris

Charlie is ten years old. That doesn't make him stupid. He understands what's going on around him, no matter how hard his mama and his older brothers try to hide just how bad things are. He knows why Medda is constantly working overtime, but makes sure it's only at night so she can spend every possible second at home with her boys. He knows why Jack looks so sad and lost all the time and why he can hardly bear to let his little brothers out of his sight for longer than a few minutes. He knows why Race isn't going to school anymore and why he doesn't help out at Charlie's Buddy Ball games like he used to and why he keeps waking up in the middle of the night with coughing fits so loud Charlie can't sleep through them even though their bedrooms are on opposite sides of the house.

He knows why Medda and Jack look so frantic when they can't get Charlie's big brother to stop coughing and just breathe and why Medda makes him and Jack stay in the other room when the ambulance comes and why Jack is holding onto him so tightly while they wait for Uncle Denton to arrive. He knows why the doctors and nurses keep giving him sad smiles while he sits in the hard, uncomfortable chair of the hospital waiting room and why his mama looks so sad when she tells him he has to say goodbye to his big brother and why Race looks so unbelievably tired as he manages to give Charlie a small smile.

He knows why Race doesn't say anything when Charlie lays down next to him and just wraps an arm around his shoulders, letting Charlie ramble about everything and nothing. He knows why Race rarely even opens his eyes over the next few days and why Jack stops driving him to school in the mornings. Instead, Uncle Denton picks him up and brings him to the hospital where Medda and Jack had spent the night. He knows why everyone looks so heartbroken when Race finally manages to stay awake long enough to talk and his only request is for Jack to sing to him.

He knows why his mama is hugging him tight to her chest, her tears soaking into his hair, as the steady beeping that was always running slowed to a stop. He knows why Jack breaks down into heartwrenching sobs as soon he finishes his song. He knows why Uncle Denton doesn't even say anything, he just pulls Jack into his arms and stares at Race. At his body.

Charlie knows why he's never going to see his big brother again. He knows why Jack won't even hum along to the radio anymore and he knows why Medda can't bear to touch anything in Race's room, even though there's dirty laundry on the floor and he knows she hates that. He knows why Uncle Denton keeps bringing homemade dinners over every single night and why he keeps smiling and joking as if nothing's wrong. He knows why his teachers don't seem mad when he doesn't have any of his homework done when he comes back to school two weeks later.

He knows what Medda and Jack mean when they sit him down and gently explain that Race had to "go away" to "be an angel". He knows that Jack can barely drag himself out of bed every morning and that Medda is struggling just to hold herself together as it is. He knows that they don't need him to be having a breakdown every time he feels like it (which is fairly often, if he's being honest). He knows that at least one person in his family needs to be okay.

So he tries his best to go back to normal, to tell Jack all about this day like he always does, even when he just wants his brother to hold him close and let him cry. Jack smiles every time, so Charlie thinks it's worth it. He tells his mama jokes and stories while she cooks dinner, even though he wants to tell her about how much he misses his brother and how angry he is that he had to go. Medda laughs at his jokes every time, and Charlie knows it's worth it.

Uncle Denton gets him a tablet for his eleventh birthday, and Charlie discovered pages upon pages of stories, information, and videos about ghosts and the afterlife. Charlie thinks a part of him knows that none of it is true, but come on, can you blame him for wishing there was a way to know Race was still out there somewhere?

That's all Charlie wants. He just wants his big brother back.

Les Jacobs

Les is ten years old. That doesn't make him stupid. He understands what's going on around him, no matter how hard his older siblings try to hide it from him. He knows that Davey and his parents are always one wrong look away from the next fight. He knows Sarah would do anything in the world to make their parents happy, even though they treat her like garbage. He knows that as soon as he's old enough for his parents to start setting expectations of him, he'll be going through the exact same things.

He knows that it wasn't Sarah's fault that Davey left, and he'll feel sick to his stomach for the rest of his life every time he thinks about the things he said to her when he was too angry and hurt to think straight.

He knows that Davey would have moved mountains for him, that he never would have left Les if he had any choice. But he still can't understand why he never even said goodbye. He can't understand why Davey never came back for him. He can't understand why Davey would leave him and Sarah to fend for themselves.

He can't decide which of his siblings is being braver, David for having the strength to get out while he still could, or Sarah for having the strength to stay and try to fix things. Either way, Les is glad to have her around and, years later, when he knows that those three months were the worst three months of his life, his biggest regret in the world is that he never took a break from his forced anger to tell Sarah how much he loved her.

His parents dismiss Sarah's invitation to the band's show with an air of annoyance and indifference, but Les couldn't be happier. Davey would be there. And as much as Les has been trying to hate his older brother for more-or-less abandoning him, he can't help but feel giddy at the prospect of seeing him again. Sarah arranges for him to ride to the show with Bobby's parents under the guise that Les is spending the night with a friend.

Les is giddy with excitement the whole week leading up to the show and, as Sarah tells him goodbye before she leaves a few hours early to run a soundcheck, Les barely even gives her a second look, too busy digging through his closet to find the matching shirt he and Davey had gotten on vacation the year before.

It's not until days later that he realizes that was the last time he saw his big sister alive.

He's not quite sure why Bobby's parents seem so worried when they arrive at the theatre. It's a bit empty outside but they are kinda early. He doesn't like how Mrs. Shaw squeezes his hand tighter while she speaks softly to the worker at the ticket booth with a mixture of shock and horror on her face. He can’t understand why Bobby is sitting alone backstage or why he bursts into tears the second he sees Les or why he can’t stop crying long enough to answer him when he asks “Where’s Davey?”

His parents don’t show up at the hospital for nearly four hours. No one can get ahold of them, apparently. Les isn’t sure where they could be. He doesn’t know what could possibly be more important.

Albert’s dad and brothers are around somewhere, Les saw them come in but they didn’t exactly exchange small talk.

Bobby and his parents are the ones to tell him what happened. Mrs. Shaw is the one to pull him in close and wrap him tight in her arms while he cries. Mr. Shaw is the one to hold his hand when they finally let him see his siblings after hours and hours of begging. Bobby is the one to hold him close when he runs out of tears and can’t bear to do anything else.

Les is ten years old. That doesn’t make him stupid. He knows that his parents are the reason Davey never came home. He knows his parents are the reason Sarah was so miserable all the time. He knows that maybe they couldn’t have done anything to stop what happened that night, but they sure as hell took away Les’ chance to say goodbye.

So when his parents finally show up having the audacity to look like they’d been crying, Les doesn’t run into his mother’s waiting arms when she calls out to him. He buries his head back in Bobby’s shoulder and ignores her, just like she ignored every desperate plea Sarah ever cried. He pulls away from his father’s uncharacteristically gentle touch and begins to walk away. And when his father tries to follow after him, like he never, ever did for Davey, Les yells at them to leave him alone, in the coldest voice he can muster.

He never quite remembers exactly what he said to them, but he knows it was all true. That they were the ones who drove Davey away, that they never once believed in him, that he was right to leave them, and that Les is surprised he stuck around for as long as he did. That they treated Sarah like she was nothing, less than nothing, that she had done everything for them, that all she had ever wanted was for them to love her. He tells them that his siblings died hating them and that he would die the same way.

He’s pretty sure Bobby’s parents stuttered out something about grief and Les not really meaning it but he did. And his parents knew he did. Because they knew he was right.

They could spend the rest of his childhood honoring his siblings and pretending they were heartbroken. They could keep trying to have a relationship with him and keep trying to “learn from their mistakes”. They could give Les the entire world and it wouldn’t change what they had done.

They had stolen something from Les that he could never get back, and he had no intentions of ever forgiving them for that.

Yeah so those are the only characters I've put a lot of thought into, so we're gonna do a rapid-fire version of the last four that are important to the plot. They'll all probably develop more as the AU goes on, and feel free to send an ask if one of them catches your eye!

Albert DaSilva

Listen, I love Reggie Peters with all my heart, he's probably my favorite character on the show. But I could not for the life of me figure out what to do with him in this AU. Jac suggested Albert be the third member of Sunset Curve and while I'm super excited to explore this version of the character, I have absolutely zero thoughts about his backstory.

Like, I guess I could do what I did with David and Sarah and just. combine his Newsies fanon backstory with his JATP counterpart's backstory, but I'm not 100% sure how to do that. He's definitely got some kind of daddy(?) issues 'cause I'm giving him Reggie's one-sided friendship with Ray/Medda

As of right now, Davey and Sarah are having a shared crisis, and Albert's just having fun hanging out with Medda and messing around with Charlie. He is simply vibing.

I told Jac that he would probably gain some trauma as the AU progressed and they responded, and I quote, "i cannot WAIT for this"

Send me an ask if you want Albert to get trauma and/or daddy issues.

Spot Conlon

Spot as Flynn is probably the best decision I have ever made in my entire life because they're such different characters but also they are exactly the same.

He’s doing all the same things that Flynn does, he tries to help Jack stay the music program, he gets mad when Jack lies to him about the band, he helps Jack get through the ups and downs of life, and he’s Jack’s #1 fan (he’ll accept being tied for first with Medda and Charlie)

It’s just. He’s also Spot. If you know what I mean. I don’t know how else to describe his role in the story, he’s Jack’s ride or die and that’s all there is to it.

Spot’s still a DJ I think, but I feel like he’s got a funny story for how he got into doing that. Or just how he ended up in the music program in general. Also, yes, during the I Got The Music scene, Jack does daydream Spot rapping. He’s very confused afterwards but I think it’s funny so it stays.

Joseph Pulitzer

He's taking on Caleb's role.

He's a creepy magician guy.

He manipulates his daughter.

He sucks.

That is all.

(I mean like I'll give him a backstory if you want but yeah, his main character trait is: sucks)

Katherine Pulitzer

Katherine my beloved!!!!

Okay so her backstory is incredibly involved with Pulitzer's (duh) so I guess this is kind of like a 2-for-1 type thing here.

Anywho, Katherine and her father were a double act together performing magic! I'm thinking around the 1970s or 1980s ish. She enjoyed performing but she wasn't a fan of her dad. He didn't really care about her, he just cared about how he could use her to make his show better.

She's only seventeen, so she doesn't really have a choice, but she's been making plans to get away from him the second she can, and then... well... she's not really sure. She's going to start out performing on her own, just to make enough money to keep a roof over her head, and then she'll figure it out from there. Maybe she'll find something she's actually passionate about. Maybe she'll be a performer for the rest of her life.

Katherine doesn't care. All she cares about is getting away and making something of herself. She doesn't care what she ends up doing with her life as long as it's something she can call hers.

Yeah so then a few months before her 18th birthday, one of her father's magic acts goes horribly, horribly wrong and that's the end of her story.

And then she becomes a ghost.

And now she's stuck under her father's thumb for the rest of eternity.

If only someone would come along and help her learn that she doesn't have to let her father define her and that she does have the power to stand up to him and take him down. And if only that someone was also very smart and funny and pretty and was a drummer in a 1995 rock band and was also struggling with figuring out who she was without her parents around to tell her....

IF ONLY

So yeah! That's more or less everything I have for this AU so far! I do have some ideas in mind for different scenes and overarching plotlines, so please please do drop an ask if you want to hear more! Ideas include but are not limited to:

Unsaid Emily scene but with Les! (I have a song in mind :D)

Wake Up scene but with Jack!

Les growing up and having to watch his siblings' best friend getting famous off the songs he stole from them (see it's even Worse because most of the songs are about his family because Davey wrote all of them)

Jack and Charlie having a nice little heart-to-heart about grief and such (it is criminal that we never got a scene between Julie and Carlos talking about how his obsession with ghosts and the supernatural was his way of coping with his mother's death)

Sarah and Katherine meeting for the first time

Albert telling Jack about Les (That scene from episode 5 where Julie calls Luke selfish and Alex+Reggie tell her about his mom)

Sarah running off to the studio after coming out to her parents (I have an idea for this scene that involves Albert! Mans gets to actually do things!)

Once again, huge thanks to Jac for their help with this AU and I hope y'all like it! I have spent two days writing this post instead of working on a paper that's due in 2.5 hours! Haha send help :D

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narcissisticmf · 3 years ago

Text

come back, please | peter pevensie x fem!reader

description: y/n lives in narnia and after the pevensie siblings leave, she feels like her connection with peter was left unfinished. she begs aslan to go see him in his world.

trigger warnings: angst, violence, sword fighting, mentions of anxiety/depression, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: 3.1k

You stood beside Caspian as you watched Aslan stand before the crowd of Telmarines and Narnians. The air was rather brisk that day, you felt your clothed arms grow subtle goosebumps all amongst them. You attempted to avoid eye contact with anyone except Aslan, for you were unable to look to the Pevensie siblings without shedding a tear or two, or many more. You felt Caspian nudge your arm softly with his elbow as a way to comfort you without using words. You forced a small smile to your glossy lips and continued to look at Aslan.

"If any Telmarines wish, I will return you to your forefathers. I'm not referring to Telmar, either. Your ancestors were seafaring brigands. Pirates run aground on an island. There they found a cave, a rare chasm that brought them here from their world. The same world as our kings and queens," Aslan trailed off and continued to explain more about where he would send any of the volunteers.

When he'd mentioned the kings and queens of Narnia, your eyes flickered to the Pevensies. The warmth in your eyes slowly started to grow cold when you locked your gaze with Peter, who looked back at you with a gentle expression. Through your lashes, tears blurred your vision. You felt as though you shouldn't be crying, you did your best to fight it, but the tears continued to trickle down from your waterline, along your cheeks staining your soft skin.

After a family had offered to go through with Aslan's offer, he awaited upon another volunteer. You bit the inside of your cheek, knowing what was coming when Peter stepped forth.

"We'll go," He swallowed thickly, his gaze bounced from Aslan to you.

"We will?" Lucy's voice raised in pitch.

"Come on. Our time's up," Peter released a breath and walked towards you and Caspian. His attention was solely on the prince as he pulled off his sword. "After all, we're not really needed here anymore," He handed the sword over to Caspian who took it in his grasp.

"I will look after it until your return," Caspian spoke with incandescence.

"I'm afraid that's just it," Susan spoke up. You glanced up to her with a knowing expression. "We're not coming back," She finished.

You felt Peter stand before you, but your eyes refused to look up to him. Without making any weeps, hot tears fell down along your flushed cheeks. Your blurred vision caught a glimpse of Peter's hands motion towards your face. His warm palms caressed your wet cheeks, making you finally look up to him.

"Why must you go, Peter?" You released in a soft whisper, nearly inaudible.

"I've learned what I can from this world, Y/N.. it is time for me to live in my own," He spoke gently, a subtle sadness under his tone.

"I will miss you so much," You choked out, in an attempt to keep your voice steady, but you failed miserably.

Peter parted his glossy lips and stared at you with the most comforting gaze you could imagine. He snuck his arms around your shoulders and buried his face into your shoulder, squeezing you tightly. You wrapped your arms around his torso with all the emotional strength you had left in you. You couldn't let go, not until he would first.

"Don't forget me," You whispered, lifting your head up to look at him.

"Never," Peter pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. You fluttered your eyes closed in response and let the warmth from your forehead spread throughout the rest of your body.

You felt Peter pull away, his fingers grazing across your sides as he stepped back, keeping his eyes upon you as he made his way to stand beside his siblings. Caspian and Susan shared a goodbye beside you, but you continued to watch Peter as he did you.

A burning sensation overtook your eyes as you watched the Pevensie siblings make their way between the trees of which Aslan had made for anyone who wished to go into another world. As soon as they stepped between the trees, they disappeared and you were left with your heart sunken into your stomach. More tears trickled down your cheeks as you stood silently watching the same spot Peter once stood.

More Narnians and Telmarines volunteered to go, but not all. Many people chose to stay. You planned to stay in Narnia with Caspian and the rest of the Narnians. You continued to stand still, watching the same place Peter was last seen before he disappeared.

The night was rather cold in Narnia, brisk wind and starry nights. You remained in the same spot for hours on end, still staring at the same tree. You hadn't known why you felt so weakened by Peter's departure, but you knew there was no way you'd be able to cope in any healthy manner.

"Don't you think it is time you get some rest?" Caspian's voice was heard from behind you. You couldn't break your gaze from the trees as more tears begun to fall.

"He's not coming back," You whispered through your parted, dry lips.

Caspian begun to walk up along the steps behind you. He stood to your side and followed your gaze to the same tree. "If it makes you feel any better, I am just as unhappy to know that Susan will not be back either," Caspian stated quietly.

"Knowing we are both miserable makes me even more unhappy," You released a soft breath, feeling emotionally tired.

Caspian sighed and continued to stand beside you, for even his company may do some good for you. After hours upon hours of looking through the trees, you broke your gaze and looked at Caspian. His eyes found yours and your parted your dry lips, breathing slowly.

"I've done enough mourning for one day," You spoke, "Goodnight, Caspian."

Starting down the steps, you walked along the stone of the fortress and headed towards your chamber. With sleep, prehaps, you'd be able to regain some emotional strength for the days to come.

The sun's rays snuck through the curtains of your chamber and struck your eyes mildly. You groaned and turned over, in no desire to awaken just yet. Your body felt awfully heavy and the skin around your eyes puffed due to how much you'd been crying.

Slowly, you fluttered your eyes opened and felt the mixture of mucus and tears harden along the inner corners of both your eyes. You took your knuckles and rubbed them away, releasing a deep sigh as you did so. You begun to sit up against the headboard of your bed. You pushed yourself off the mattress and walked barefoot about your room. You quickly changed from your sleepwear to your armor. Although not needed, you decided to practice some sword fighting early that day, in hopes of getting your mind off of Peter.

You pulled your boots on over your barefeet and grabbed your sword from the case at the end of your bed. Hurrying across the hall, you made your way out into the field where many Narnians were gathered. You kept your eyes peeled for Caspian, in hopes of asking him to practice with you.

"You're looking well rested this morning, Y/N," The voice of Caspian was heard from behind you, making you jump.

"Don't creep up on me like that," You scolded softly and watched him chuckling lightly. "Mind practicing with me for a little while? I need to get my mind preoccupied."

Caspian nodded his head, "Allow me to get my sword first." You nodded in response and scurried out further into the field, where you both would maintain a harmless battle away from the rest of the Narnians.

Awaiting in the field, you held your sword by the handle, having the blade kiss the grass. The sun's rays were potent that day, the leather armor against your body grew hot against your skin. When Caspian was seen in the distance with his sword and two shields, you released a breath and felt the adrenaline begin to build.

"We can't fight without shields," Caspian offered a grin as he tossed one to you. You rolled your eyes playfully and held up the shield in your free hand. "Ready?" He asked as he stood relatively far from you.

"Are you?" You offered with an evil glint, swinging the blade towards him as he dodged it with his shield. When Caspian tried to strike you from the head, you bent down so that you'd dodge his hit. You took the opportunity to swing your sword at his feet, causing him to stumble backwards.

You stood straight and watched as he slowly got up, swinging his sword towards you from the left and right. A grunt left your lips when your blade came to contact with Caspian's shield, a spark flew off the metal.

You couldn't help but remember Peter, how you and he would often practice together. Mostly because your sword fighting needed some work, but never directly spoke of that. You missed him truly and it grew harder to come into terms with when you knew you'd never see him again.

Caspian's strike to your blade kicked you from your thoughts. You mentally thanked him for that. You let out another grunt and swung your sword to his, the strike so powerful that it knocked it from his grasp. Caspian looked rather surprised and when you kept swinging, he dodged almost every hit with his shield.

You swung beneath his feet, which caused him to jump, swiftly avoiding your hit. You watched as Caspian reached for his sword upon the grass, making you swing to his shield again.

The both of you froze when you turned to notice Aslan was watching over the field at the top of the castle, overseeing all the Narnians. You released a soft breath and slowly brought your blade down, endless thoughts of Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy ran through your mind. You dropped your sword and begun to run back into the castle.

"Y/N! Where are you going?" Caspian called, but you were already hot upon your feet, too fast to turn back.

You scurried up the stairs, making left and right turns until you'd make it to the top, where Aslan stood overseeing everything and everyone. You needed to take the opportunity you had to speak with him yourself. You opened the doors to the top and looked straight ahead, seeing Aslan still there, before the same tree you spent all of yesterday looking at.

"Aslan," You breathed out and watched as his head turned to look at you. His light green eyes found yours, his mane moved softly with the brisk wind. You made your way towards him and stopped once you came to the edge.

"I see you've been practicing on your skill, dear one," Aslan stated, turning his head toward you.

"I need something to occupy my mind," You bashfully admitted.

"Missing them, are you?" He asked, with concern.

"More than I would like to admit."

"I miss them too, Edmund and Lucy will return eventually, in a few years potentially," Aslan continued to look at you, finding your face was written with distress. "What's the matter, dear one?"

"I must see Peter again," You spoke in a shaky tone. "I want him to come back and be here."

"Y/N, Peter has grown and learned all that he could from this world," Aslan said, his eyes softening.

"Can't I visit him in his world?" You spoke gently.

"Yes, but only for a little while," Aslan breathed out.

"How long?" You whispered.

"Two days of their world and then you will return."

You nodded gently, parting your lips as you stared at Aslan. He nodded in response and motioned towards the trees, the wind picked up in and the leaves rustled against the thin branches. You watched with a mesmerized gaze, keeping your eyes locked with the leaves. The color of the sky faded into a dark grey from a light blue. You squinted softly and turned your head to look before you. The road was slick and droplets from the sky fell rapidly down upon the ground. Puddles overflown against the sides of the road.

Glancing down at your clothing, you noticed you'd been dressed in a maroon colored uniform with your hair now straightened against your shoulders. You parted your lips and turned to look around, noticing how busy the streets were.

Slowly, you stepped forth to make sure no oncoming vehicles would hit you, when both sides of thr street were clear, you scurried across and made it to the other end, seeing that many a persons walked about the concrete. You'd been in Narnia so long that you'd forgotten what the streets were like during the daylight. You questioned if daylight would still be referred to as the same despite the gloomy whether that arose over England.

You turned your head to notice several people were exiting the underground railway station. You felt a nervousness grow deep inside your stomach. The center of your palms produced a thin layer of sweat when your eyes were met with four people you knew all too well in your world. You parted your lips softly and watched as Peter, Edmund, Susan and Lucy came up from the staircase and upon the same sidewalk as you had been upon. You were unsure if they'd recognize you, being so far away.

Your eyes locked with Lucy as she turned her head and noticed you. She had a wide grin upon her face as she reached to tug Peter's sleeve, her gaze never breaking with yours. Your lips formed into the most beautiful smile, shining ever so brightly on such a dull day.

When Peter looked to Lucy, she pointed towards you and her eldest brother followed where her finger led to. When his deep blue eyes fell into your warm ones, he froze in a state of shock, but also great happiness as you could tell his smile was rising. You missed everything of him, his smile, his eyes, his voice, his arms and his incandescent attitude. Susan and Edmund were the last to notice you, smiling happily.

You couldn't hold yourself back any longer, you begun to run towards them with pure excitement running through your veins. The adrenaline ran through you like wildfire, spreading about beneath the surface of your skin. The pit of your excitement lied within your chest, where your heart was palpitating like crazy.

"Peter!" You smiled as he started running in your direction. Behind him, the rest of the Pevensie siblings ran to you. You released inhaled deeply once you were close enough to Peter. His smile was wide as he wrapped his arms around your torso, lifting you up and spinning around with a sweet laugh escaping his lips. You hugged his shoulders and buried your face into his neck.

"Ah! Y/N, I missed you," Peter spoke as though a large weight was taken off of his shoulders.

"I missed you.. all of you," You let happy tears trickle down your cheeks as Peter placed you down onto the concrete. You slowly peeled back from him and took Lucy into a hug, along with Susan and Edmund.

"How did you get back?" Susan asked with a grin to her lips.

"Aslan, I will be here in your world for two days," You released a breath.

"Why two days?" Lucy questioned.

"I suppose it has a lot to do with how much I miss you all.. how terrible it was to let you go the first time.. it'll hurt no less the second time," You sighed gently.

You looked from Lucy to Peter with a softening expression. "If it's okay, I would like to speak to you," You mentioned softly.

"I'll catch up with you, wait at the traffic light for me," Peter looked to Edmund, Susan and Lucy as they all nodded and headed up along the sidewalk. You turned to look at Peter, who was already staring down upon you.

"I couldn't bear it," You released in a gentle breath. Peter offered his hand and you gladly took it, feeling an overwhelming sense of butterflies in your stomach. He lead you to a small bench before the road and you took a seat in it, soon after he did as well.

"Peter, I wish you could come back with me," You admitted.

"I wish I could as well," He pressed his lips together, "But I'm afraid I am just grown too old to go back."

"You're never too old for Narnia," You spoke softly. Peter offered a thin smile and took your hand in his own, entwining your fingers together.

"Come back, please," You felt your eyes brim with tears, "There's so much I haven't gotten to tell you."

Peter gently took his free hand and brushed away the tears from beneath your eyes. "What is it that you haven't gotten to tell me, Y/N?" He whispered and leaned in closer, making the moment much more intimate.

"Two days won't be enough time," You looked up to him.

"Come back, bring Lucy, Susan and Edmund.. Narnia needs you. I need you," You admitted ever so gently. "I'm unsure if Aslan will ever do this for me again, Peter."

Peter rested his forehead against yours and looked down at your fingers intertwind with his own. "There's only one thing Narnia has that I would go back for in a mere second," His voice lowered.

"What is it?" Your eyes flickered up into his own, a deep nervousness kicked back into your stomach.

Peter pulled his head back gently and smiled, his dimples caving in as he did so. You parted your glossy lips and watched as his blue eyes locked with yours. You felt your body move closer to him, not physically, but rather emotionally.

Before you could comprehend it, your lips were overtaken by Peter's. You fluttered your eyes closed in response and gave into the kiss, feeling your lips mold together in the most perfect sync. You felt his chest press against your own. You took the opportunity to cup his cheeks with your palms, feeling pure gaiety within your body. You missed Peter more than you could even begin to explain. You were unsure where else this kiss would lead, but you had no intent to rush there.

a/n: hello lovies!! so this may have been one of my favorite things i've ever written. i know it's angsty but those are the types of pieces i love writing the most. i hope you enjoyed this one and who knows maybe i'll write a part two? hmm? haha! anyway, thank you so much for reading! be safe and treat people with kindness. — angelina.

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 1 year ago

Text

Firstly: You're not a bother. And secondly if I say that friendly discussion is welcomed, and you're free to disagree with me, I mean it. This is both and I'm welcoming it, because it'd be a dull life to not have one's opinions or views disagreed ever.

It's a constructive conversation.

And when it comes to Lucius not being worried about our heroes, I agree with him being able to just smirk back as he watches them squirm. Which is very much a Big Bad thing to do, and he has no reason to be worried. I also remember the scene, which is why I was very reluctant to think that we'll get a real ending, unless it's some grand Kamikaze type of an ending. Because Lucius isn't where the MCs are. I was thinking that the characters that aren't on screen are locating Lucius and going there behind Lucius' back when his attention is on the Royal Capitol. Y'know, like a backstab?

I... was thinking that the 3 months he took to plan the final arc kinda promised for something big. Something great. Which is why I held onto a lot of hope for this autumn, because a planning break that lasted for so long implies that someone has more than one ace up his sleeve, which is why this autumn especially feels very lacklustre to me. And it doesn't help that the last time I felt surprised by BC was, well, actually, suppose Asta winding up to Hino was a tad bit surprising, but the JuLu reveal was the Big Surprise. But ever since then, the plot seems to have been dragging along after all the fights, and I do appreciate a good fight in the series, but I want a story as well.

But as you said, it's Tabata's story. He's sharing it with the world, and it's his to do whatever he wants with it.

When it comes to scenes Tabs feels that he needs to draw, I want to believe that he really will tie all the loose ends together. Lichita being on the new coloured spread made me hope for her to be present and important in the upcoming chapters. Tabs, actually, has a lot of potential with bringing back a lot of the dead parents. Zara could be there against Zora. Lichita? Lucius could use her as an... undead human shield. Acier is already causing a lot of emotional suffering to the Silvas.

This is basically Rades' spell, but on a different level.

He could have had the Bulls regroup a bit better before just barging in. He could have had more "let's collect our thoughts", which we got in Spade arc. The tempo of that was much slower. So, I feel like these chapters just want to be done with. The writer problem of "I just need to get through this scene so that I can move on".

I want to be wrong. I've wanted to be wrong with waiting for the story to pick up from the beginning of the Spade Arc. Because even that felt a bit rushed. And if Tabs did what he did with the Elf Arc, he'd tie up the events of Spade (the ground work for which is laid) with the events of the Final arc. Especially since Adra was also in that coloured spread.

Also, the very beginning of BC feels too convenient. Asta to just happen to be at a location where his grimoire is. The grimoire to have wound up there. Lucius to have accepted Asta being there from the very beginning, because if a man who can see into the future finds one things/person standing right before him that has not existed in any other scenario, then why wouldn't he just do away with it? Sure, in the beginning it might not seem like much of a threat, but not when that one person starts winning a lot of the fights. Like... when things have gone as far as the Final Arc, Lucius shouldn't be that surprised.

There is so much story, so much lore, and so many plot twists that I feel haven't been addressed in the past year, that I'm losing hope for BC to be bouncing back.

The one thing that gives me hope is that I was very disinterested in the Royal Knight's arc. I basically skipped 50% of the episodes because it was just "blah blah" to me, so maybe this is just that. I'd need to sit out for these fights to just end, until we'd get to the actual interesting part.

I'm just frustrated with the lack of a story this year

About chapter 369:

Remember that these are my own, personal opinions, and you don't need to agree with them (however, friendly discussion is welcomed as always). And my opinions are affected by the rumour I heard about there being only 3 chapters of BC left, including 369. Meaning that we'd get the finish, maybe, Christmas 2024.

The chapter was very MagLuck centric, which is amazing to those who love the dynamic duo, and I'm happy for them, but... I felt that essentially... nothing happened? I mean, Asta comes back, with Ichika, and we have the very brief "omg Captain Yami's lil' sister is here?! wait?! He has a sister??!!", but it was very brief. And, I get that due to the tempo of the point where the story is, them being in the battle where we've been for the past... 30+ chapters (granted that Asta was in yet another battle within those 30 chapters, but it's been basically just one battle after another ever since the start of the Spade arc); battles make the tempo quick. That's how most prose works. You can't focus on many events in the heat of the battle, but BC... in my opinion, has become about nothing else than fighting. It's like Luck took over Tabs and it's just fight fight fight. The movie was just one 1h+ long fight scene with minimal story, and so is the manga as it stands now.

And... if Tabs is supposed to wrap it up in 60 or so pages, I cannot see how he could realistically do that unless it ends in the "you all die" ending. Which would be very un-BC like.

Could Lucius die of a heart attack? It's possible. The big bad's heart can't take the toll of all the mana he's consuming suddenly and it gives out and he flops down. Asta and Yuno wouldn't get their rivalry settled and life in Clover would go back to business as usual. (I'm not seriously suggesting this of course, I'm trying to be funny)

I hear that this is very Berserk type of a situation to be in. You got one chapter every 6 months and nothing essentially happens, because the plot is progressing so slowly. But as of now, I feel like BC is a falling house of cards. A lot happens, without proper development, and it's buried under flashy fights, maybe, meant to distract the reader.

The next chapter will (if we believe the battle order in the end of chapter 368) have the Mereo&Morris battle, and the last issue will deal with Yuno&Asta vs. Lucius. But it all feels too hasted.

There absolutely are good things about BC, which is why I'm saddened to feel that it's going out in flames. I just don't find things to expect anymore.

I am happy to those who feel hyped for the MagLuck moment, and them having their Great Duo Fight against the big bad, and my criticism isn't just about this chapter. It's about the last 100 chapters. The movie. The lack of lore, world-building, character-building, the lack... of a story.

And I blame the manga industry pushing Tabs to burnout, which is why we're here.

I feel bad for Tabs. I feel bad for the story. It could've been a cool story.

And that's the real tragedy here, to me. What might've been

#Black Clover #black clover spoilers #black clover manga #369 spoilers #lovely mutuals #try to bear with me when I'm in my 'dramatically slumps onto a bed and groans in frustration' phase

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ravens-words · 3 years ago

Text

Home is Just a Room Full of My Safest Sounds

Carlos just wants to take care of TK. Eventually, he lets him.

3x07 Coda

AN: 90% of this was written after the episode (4 am), and the other 10% while i'm at work, so if you're reading this, lower your expectations lol

"She's dead," TK whispered, lowering the phone.

Carlos stared at his boyfriend, paralyzed and helpless. Time seemed to stop.

His eyes never left TK's face, even as he heard the others call out their goodbyes as they left, even as the door closed behind them with a soft click, even the phone slipped from TK's slack fingers and onto the floor with a thud.

His eyes never left TK's- but TK's left his.

Carlos' heart hurt as he watched him spin on his heels, as if lost, his hand coming up to grab at his chest, his throat. He was restless in a way he hadn't seen in a while, and that scared him more than he was willing to admit.

"TK-"

"No, no, no," he muttered, over and over, hands gripping his hair, eyes squeezed shut, "no."

"TK?"

There was no answer. TK continued the stream of muttered denials, and Carlos, for a few seconds, froze.

He wanted to hold him, to offer him the comfort he must needx but if there was one thing he knew about TK, it was that attempting to touch him while he was this agitated would only aggravate him more.

So, Carlos stayed where he was, always a step away, moving with him, but never closer, and waited.

TK's breathing started to speed up, his chest heaving, and Carlos stood in front of him, hands outstretched, but not touching any part of him. "Take a deep breath for me, sweetheart."

TK didn't seem to hear him, so he said it louder, and it seemed to startle him into taking a shaky breath.

"Again," he said softly, breathing right along with him. "Come on, TK, breathe."

"TK-"

"I can't," he whimpered, shaking like a leaf, "I can't."

"Yes, you can. Come on, we'll do it together, okay? I breathe, you breathe," he told him.

TK nodded, and Carlos walked closer, and offered him his hand. TK took it immediately and squeezed hard enough that it hurt, but he didn't let it show.

It took a while, but he got his breathing back under control soon after.

"Carlos," he said shakily.

"Yeah?"

Unexpectedly, his face crumpled, and Carlos pulled him into his arms; holding him gently, rocking him side to side. God, he would do anything to make this better.

But there was nothing he could except hold the man he loved while his world fell apart around him, and hope he was enough to keep him from falling so far that he couldn't get back up.

TK didn't cry.

Not after he got the news, though he came close to it. Not while he was packing to go to New York, not while he was sitting on their couch, unable to sleep, all night.

Carlos drove Owen and TK over to the airport, and the whole way there, he kept throwing looks at his boyfriend, who did nothing more than stare out the window with a far away look in his eyes.

When it was time to say goodbye, Carlos held him tightly, and was a little relieved when TK's arms wrapped around him in return.

"I'll be on the first flight out tomorrow, okay?"

TK nodded, and when he pulled back, Carlos didn't let him go far. He put his hands on both sides of his neck and squeezed gently. "I love you," he reminded him.

TK mustered up a tired smile that was a pale imitation of his usual one. "Love you."

It took three hours for Carlos to be able to get a hold of TK. He'd never been so terrified all his life.

He'd lost count of how many times he tried to call him with no answer, so when his phone rang, and an unknown number popped up on his screen, he almost didn't answer.

"Hello?"

"Baby," came his boyfrind's breathy, exhausted voice, "sorry, my phone die-"

"You're okay," Carlos whispered, collapsing back into his chair, "god, TK, you scared me."

"I'm sorry," TK said, "at least it's not really my fault this time?"

Carlos let out a small laugh. "Yeah. Hey, where are you?"

"At the airport. Enzo's coming to pick us up."

"Is your dad okay?"

"He's fine. A little bruised up, but nothing serious."

"Good."

"Hey, I gotta go, okay? I'll call you again as soon as I can."

"Okay, sweetheart. Hey," he said, just before the line went dead."

"Yeah?"

He let out a breath. "I'm so damn happy you're okay, TK. I don't know what I would have done of something happened to you."

"I'm okay, Carlos."

He wasn't that convincing, but Carlos would take it. "Okay. Love you."

"Love you, too."

Carlos waited for him to break.

Throughout the funeral, and the wake, he stuck close to him, bracing himself for it, but it didn't come.

The whole time he was expecting it, it didn't come.

When he woke up, it was 2 am, and he was alone in the bed. Confused, Carlos stumbled out of bed and put into the hallway. His first stop was the bathroom, then the kitchen, then the living room- he didn't find him.

He was starting to get worried when he heard it.

A giggle.

He stepped outside, and without TK noticing, watched him.

TK had Jonah cradled in his arms, the boy looking up at him with such a sweet smile that it brought tears to Carlos' eyes.

He stepped put the door and walked quietly over to him, sitting down beside him.

TK leaned into him.

"What are you two doing out here?"

TK sighed. "He was fussing. I couldn't sleep, so I figured I'd help Enzo while I'm still here.

Carlos nodded, and moved his arm from under TK's weight to wrap it around him loosely.

"I think he misses her," TK whispered thickly, voice shaking.

Carlos closed his eyes at the pain he heard in those words, and wished there was something, anything, he could do to take it all away. "Baby-"

"I miss her," he said in a rush, "I miss her so much, Carlos."

Carlos moved to sit sideways, and pulled him in, just as the first sob broke free. It was quiet, strangled, and sounded like it was torn out of his throat. One arm went to wrap around TK's back, and the other came up to settle in his hair. He held him tightly, and gently, and rode out the waves of pain and despair right along with him.

Jonah fussed a little, and like a switch had been flipped off, TK pulled himself together and sniffled, a heartbreakingly sad smile on his lips. "I'm sorry, kiddo," he whispered, leaning down to kiss one rosy cheek.

"He's gonna be okay, TK," Carlos assured him, rubbing his arm gently.

TK didn't look away from his brother. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because he has his father," he answered, "and, he has you, and I know you'll do everything you can to be there for him."

TK looked up at him, smiled, and pressed a kiss to Carlos's neck. "Thank you," he muttered, breath fanning out across his skin and making him shiver.

"What for?"

"Being here," he replied, "putting up with me."

Carlos shook his head and pressed a small kiss first to his lips, then to his cheek. "You never have to thank me for that, TK."

TK, with Jonah dozing off in his arms, settled back into Carlos', breaths gradually evening out as time passed. Carlos grabbed a quilt off the back of the chair and spread it over the brothers, holding them both tightly, watching over them as they slept.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #911 ls spoilers #ejwritestarlos #lemme know what you think #btw I haven't edited this/reread this lol so i'm sorry 😭

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