#and honestly just ready for the relief of being out of this limbo

[cahootings]

.

[jo-harrington]

Purgatory - Vampire!Eddie Munson

Summary: The stage is set for the Battle for the Fate of Hawkins. And only the dead have seen the end of the war.

Pairings/Relationships: Vampire!Eddie Munson and Vecna, Vampire!Eddie Munson and The Party, Implied Vampire!Eddie/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: Angst, Graphic Gore and Violence, Major and Minor Character Deaths, Kas!Eddie/Vamp!Eddie, Body Horror, Blood, Transformation, Loss of Soul, Rebirth, Other Biblical and Literary References

Note: Woof, ok this was...a lot. Had to dig in deep for this, as did a lot of our characters. Purgatory is the third prequel to my upcoming series As Above, So Below. This one, once again, could be read as a stand alone. But I would suggest reading Heaven and Hell first. Shit, read all 3 in the same sitting. This one is very heavy, and honestly...just the tip of the ice burg of angst that is coming in this series.

Thank you to @myosotisa @ghost-proofbaby @br0ck-eddie @pastel-pillows @big-ope-vibes for all helping me see to the end of this specific installation. Let alone the countless people who I have edged with snippets of the actual series itself.

That being said, this fic and the subsequent fics/chapters in the series will not be for the faint of heart. Please check the above warnings and ask yourself if you are in the correct headspace to proceed. I am happy to answer any questions via PM or Ask.

You can find the As Above, So Below masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

"Demons can exist in purgatory[,] just as they exist on Earth, but they are there to test the soul of the sinner." —A.D. Aliwat, In Limbo (2021)

Hawkins, Indiana - September 8th, 1987

The day the Master called Eddie to action was a day like any other.

For months the creatures of the Upside Down had waited, bored and restless, to be put to use.

Eddie waited, bloodthirsty and ready to strike.

Henry's greatest creation, according to the Master himself, even greater than the Mind Flayer; however, he was still weak, still recovering from the attack that nearly killed him. It wasn't enough to just send his minions out for revenge. He wanted them to be the harbingers to his imminent arrival, to his destruction.

So they waited. They flew and fought and fed.

Eddie no longer needed to learn in order to do these things. He simply knew. Being a part of their collective consciousness was invigorating, relieving. He had been stripped away of all things human...almost...so it was a relief to feel a constant presence at the edge of his mind, to know he wasn't alone.

The day the call was given to strike, the anticipation rolled through their collective connection and then crashed into their minds.

Go. Bring about my arrival. Let them know the end is near.

Eddie couldn't contain himself; he was expected to lead, of course, and he would not let his Master down.

His legs pushed him off the ground and his wings beat most powerfully to let him soar through the skies...and the others followed. The bats with him and the demogorgons raced to follow on the ground below. They dove through the Gate, tore through the membrane, and were birthed into Hawkins to begin the devastation.

But he had a mission.

While the others began their exploration of this new world, their new playground, his eyes followed the outline of the glowing fissure straight to Lover's Lake where he could sense, funnily enough, two lovers waiting.

Eddie closed the distance to the lake with a few powerful beats of his wings and descended upon them.

With his arms outstretched, he grappled the man, pinned him to the ground as he sunk his fangs deep into the pale column of his neck. The woman's bloodcurdling screams didn't stop Eddie from relishing in the feast, nor did her fists upon his back, or the dull knife that pierced his side. It was a nuisance more than anything, and with a vague thought, some others were summoned, and within seconds she was subdued.

The human blood was a refreshing change from the countless creatures that sacrificed themselves for his sustenance in the Upside Down. He could taste memories, taste dreams, taste the imminent death as he pulled mouthful after mouthful of life-force from the man's weakening body.

As the woman screamed again and the man groaned her name, as he used the last bit of energy to reach out for her, Eddie felt it. It was stinging and sickening and he yearned for it.

Love.

Having had enough, Eddie savagely ripped away from the man's throat. The force snapped the man's neck, effectively finishing him off. The woman's sobs tore through the air and Eddie stood and turned his sights on her now.

Her eyes widened in recognition and fear as he took those few calculated steps closer.

Eddie basked in it.

"Hey Wheeler," he hissed. Jonathan's blood bubbled and dripped out of his mouth, over his chin. It sprayed onto Nancy's heartbroken, fear-filled face. "Henry has a message."

September 15th, 1987

"You failed me," Henry croaked as Eddie stood before him.

Eddie should have been afraid. But he was overwhelmed more than anything.

For nearly a year, since he had begged for mercy, he had felt nothing but the will of his master, the thoughts of his brethren, and a great, gaping void. Certain things...pain...hunger...power...they were all he needed to sustain him. To satisfy him. The Upside Down itself worked hard to keep him alive, and life was all he needed.

He had been hollow and it was a mercy.

But when he first fed on human blood...

Feeling exploded within him. Woke up the dormant parts of his mind and his body. Every time he fed it got stronger. Not just the emotions of his victims but the parts of him he thought he had sacrificed for his survival.

First it was pain. His own pain from the endless torture he had endured, amplified. The physical pain echoed through his memories, wracking his body. He had been gliding through the air over Hawkins watching the carnage ensue, and when it shot through him like a pulse and caused him to crash in to someone's yard. He had barely gotten to his feet when the emotional anguish took over.

At first, he had let the pain become anger. And he had lashed out. It was the perfect motivation to wreak havoc on the town that hurt and hated him so. To get revenge.

Then today Henry had given him a special task. The gates had been created, but he still was unable to cross. His body still too weak, but the fact of the matter was...the final lamb had yet to be sacrificed. Somehow she was still alive. And Henry trusted Eddie to take care of it.

And Eddie would have. But those kids...those pesky twerps anticipated the attack.

As soon as he had received his orders, he had taken to the skies, crossed the gate, and fought his way through Hawkins.

Eddie had been instrumental in planning the assault; countless hours of strategic DnD planning put to good use. The creatures of the Upside Down couldn't be very far from their master without becoming uncontrollable so the assault was limited to Hawkins until Henry could cross. The town was cut off from the rest of the world; a perimeter was created: no one in, no one out. No phone lines. Some pesky radio signals but the bats quickly became attuned to it.

The thing about a small town was that they rallied in times of crisis.

The citizens of Hawkins defended their homes. They held a daily memorial for those who didn't survive the night. Some used the church as a makeshift hospital, others took shifts during the day to fortify houses and get supplies, when the creatures of the Upside Down took to the shadows and attacked only when necessary.

Eddie, though, could withstand the sun, withstand the burns, so he attacked when they least expected it.

He cut through neighbors--Mike Lewenski and Pastor Charles.

Mrs. Mayfield had apparently died in the "earthquake," leaving poor Max to live with the Byers. So it was a surprise to find Max hunkered down at the Sinclair's home.

He cut through family--Ted Wheeler and Charles Sinclair.

Might have had something to do with Jonathan's death and Joyce in mourning. Might have had something to do with the fact that the Sinclair's just had a bigger house near the Wheelers so there was more of a chance to defend her. More people around.

He cut through friends--Vickie and Rick.

He propelled his body through the door of the house, only to come face to face with...

Lucas and his wrist rocket. Steve and a god damn bat with nails. Dustin and a spear.

...Max's unseeing eyes that pierced straight through him.

Eddie froze.

And all of the anger that propelled him dissipated.

And the voice started, the feelings, the memories started. They overwhelmed him, overtook him.

Henry was using him. These were his friends. Max was his friend. They had fought alongside him. He fought to protect them. He died to protect them. He sacrificed himself for their salvation.

The guilt and the sadness and the hopelessness and the camaraderie.

The memories of their laughter and their tears.

Lucas let the stone in the wrist rocket loose and it plunked off of Eddie's bare torso and onto the floor.

The screech that Eddie let out was unholy and caused everyone to fold in on themselves and cover their ears in pain.

Eddie propelled himself into flight once again, out of the window and into the sky, back to his Master.

He expected to be cut down by Henry immediately when he arrived empty handed.

A pack of demo dogs waited at his feet, mouths snarling and dripping with saliva, ready to devour him.

Eddie knew them. He knew practically all the creatures of the Upside Down at this point. But he had always had a soft spot for the demo dogs; they were young, acting only on instinct. He played games with them in the infinite boredom of their existence.

And now they would be his executioners.

The Upside Down was an unforgiving place and so was his Master.

"I give you one simple task," Henry groaned. "And you failed me. I didn't create you to fail, Beast."

The dogs shuffled, feeling their master's anger course through them. Eddie could feel it too. But for Eddie, it was buried beneath the buzzing of pain and remorse and guilt and relief. He would die soon, he deserved it.

For as vicious as he was, Henry was also poetic. The creatures of the Upside Down had given him life, they could take it away just as easily.

He stared at the dogs. There was one he especially liked. The runt of the pack--who he had called Cerberus--was right in front of Henry and growling a little less than the others. Cerberus hesitated often, wanting to cross the divide and stand beside his friend.

Eddie could feel it. And it hurt.

"No Master," he finally answered. "You didn't."

"Let this be a lesson," Henry began, his hand raised to strike.

Eddie closed his eyes prepared--

He was meant to die anyway.

--only for the wet, squelching sound of flesh hitting the ground to his ears. A searing pain surged through the collective consciousness and brought Eddie to his knees.

He was not made to kneel. But as he opened his eyes and saw his companions dead, slaughtered before him, he knew that Henry only cared for obedience.

"Go," Henry warned him. "This is your only warning."

September 21st, 1987

They refused to meet with him alone.

He could tell by the sheer number of them that showed up.

Mike and Nancy, Harrington and Buckley, Henderson, Gareth and Jeff and his old pal Mickey, Callahan and Hopper, a tall man with white hair and a severe face, and the girl.

Eleven.

The rendezvous point that he had chosen was his old trailer, half-destroyed by the emergence of the gate. He'd used the trailer as a refuge point before, to hide from the sun, just as he was doing now as his Master rested. As he should be resting, gearing up for another night of warfare.

Only...he didn't want to be in this war anymore.

It was tricky, meeting here, right under Vecna's nose. But after the past week, ever since the dogs were killed, he had decided enough was enough.

He had seen more people die in the last week than he had since his return to Hawkins. By his hand, by the creatures, on Vecna's whim. And just as many of the creatures of the Upside Down, creatures he was responsible for as their leader after Vecna, be cut down remorselessly when they were just...running on instinct, just like he was.

If they had a mind, a soul, they would have stopped.

Although, he didn't have a soul anymore, and for some reason he had stopped.

The guilt was eating at him.

It was the blood, it had to be. It sustained him and also changed him.

But sometimes the voice in his head was too overwhelmingly familiar, there was no way it could have been the blood. And in those times, all he could do was to feed again to quiet it down.

Eddie had...altered his appearance to be more palatable. He knew it was overwhelming; the glimpses he had gotten of himself...were horrifying. In car windows, in broken hallway mirrors, in unseeing eyes. He couldn't glamour his way into a trustworthy facade though, so he broke his body yet again.

And it was painful, but it was a drop in the ocean of pain he had caused in Vecna's name.

He'd bitten back the screams as the pain cut through him again. All of the extra parts he had been given broke and condensed and folded and slithered beneath his skin. His extra teeth receded and drilled deep into his jaw; that hurt the most.

He healed miraculously quickly, he had found, despite bullets and knives and even a crossbow shot through his neck. But he was dead, undead, so nothing could kill him except for his Maker.

This was no different.

He found though, as the skin knitted itself shut after his transformation back into Eddie Munson, that there was an interesting contrast between the emptiness where a soul should be, and the fullness of all his extra parts stuffed beneath his skin. He was full, uncomfortably so, but still craved to fill the void.

Hungered for it.

"If this is some kinda trap Munson," Hopper was the first to speak, cocking his hunting rifle. "Just know that I'll put you down so fast--"

"This isn't a trap," Eddie replied boredly. "It's...a truce."

"How are we supposed to trust you?" Callahan grumbled and Eddie turned to him. "You've been a lying little sneak your whole life. How are we supposed to trust you now?"

"You can ask me whatever questions you want," Eddie grinned, flashing his fangs, taking great pleasure in the rude cop cowering in fear. "I'll answer them all."

The questions came rapid fire.

How was he alive? How was he a bat thing now? Actually how was he not a bat at this moment? Why did he work for Vecna?

He answered them to the best of his ability. Some things he knew. Some things he didn't. Some he speculated. But with every question answered, he felt lighter somehow.

As though every bit of help he gave was a sin being forgiven.

Finally, a voice popped up that he had expected all along.

"How did he let you go?" Eleven asked.

"He didn't," Eddie divulged. "I'm still very much his right hand man. But he's taken too much. I'm done. He'll kill me if I leave him, so I'm pulling a Benedict Arnold. We might as well make my betrayal worth it."

The group chattered amongst themselves again, coming up with different ideas.

Could Eddie tell them Vecna's plan if he crossed over into Hawkins? Could he tell them how many creatures were still in the Upside Down waiting?

"Can you kill him?" Dustin speculated. "You're powerful! And you said it yourself, he's still weak. Can't you do what we tried to do? Cut off his head?"

"He made me what I am," Eddie sighed. "Unlike the...the bats and the demogorgons, I have will. But he isn't going to let me walk up to him and kill him."

"But you're here."

"This is different."

"But you can help us fight!"

"And how do we do that? Vecna has an army," Mike argued, full of doubt.

"Then we need to have an army too!" Dustin exclaimed.

"And where do you think we're gonna get one?" Nancy asked cynically, then glared at Eddie. "More and more of us die every day."

The discussion continued.

There was no way they could call for help, no way for anyone to get in without being killed. Despite all of the supernatural activity in and around Hawkins, even though it had been quiet after the "quake", people tended to stay away. Government interference and all that. No one questioned that the sleepy town had gone quiet 2 weeks ago.

The town was damned and would suffer a fate worse than death. No one would care.

And that's when the idea struck Eddie.

Death.

He cleared his throat to get their attention and when they ignored him, he let out a warning screech that caused them to wince.

"I'll take care of it," he told them, voice returning to normal. And he would have laughed at all the raised eyebrows and doubtful looks. "You'll just have to trust me."

September 23rd, 1987

Eddie stared up at the pillars. At his classmates, at the bodies that had been hung as trophies in the wake of Vecna's triumph at opening the gates.

During Eddie's torture, Vecna boasted about his victory over Eleven and the pesky residents of Hawkins. How had made the landscape of his mind a reality, how he had brought the bodies to the Upside Down to have as a match set along with their souls. They would always be a part of him.

Just like Eddie was.

Vecna barely came back to this place though, having set up a new base at the center of Hawkins where the gates converged. Always ready for the moment he would be able to cross through. So Eddie was free to defile the "palace" as he pleased.

He gritted his teeth and worked tirelessly to carve the bodies loose from the pillars that had been molded around them. His claws splintered and ached, only to heal back tougher when he allowed them to.

Patrick and Fred and Chrissy.

He lured in the creatures of the Upside Down with an infernal howl, and the ones who were desperate to feed responded quickly, knowing that his calls usually meant a meal was imminent.

Instead they only found their demise.

He tore them apart, just as they had torn into him. Carved out the most desirable pieces. He had done this countless times with action figures and such for DnD sessions. How much different could it be to add wings and talons and fangs to a body?

Fred and Chrissy and Patrick.

Vecna hadn't just gifted him with new life, he had made Eddie like him. Unlocked abilities buried within. So far he'd only used it to control the creatures of the Upside Down, to prey on the weak minds of the humans back in Hawkins. But now he would use it for good.

Those abilities were how their skin knitted back together and their bodies accepted all of the extra parts.

When it got to their eyes, he had to dig deep. Summon some part within him that he didn't even know was there. He had to heal them, have their bodies regenerate something that was long gone.

He closed his eyes and his hands hovered over them. He thought of the many times he had written and imagined healers in a strange land for a campaign. What did they think of as they cast healing spells or revived a fallen comrade?

They thought about light, about goodness, about love.

He could feel it filling him and spilling out of his being like a cup overflowing.

And he focused that feeling on them. Willed his hard work to take and for them all to become like him.

Chrissy and Patrick and Fred.

Their eyes were restored; Eddie had blinked and there they were. Different. Not perfect. More akin to a bat's eyes than a humans. Cold and dark.

He reached deep within him once again, searching for that light, and when he found it he concentrated once more, envisioned what they would do when they returned to the land of the living.

He imagined what his own resurrection had looked like. Imagined how he felt when he took those first breaths.

Wings began to twitch, then fingers. Breaths were taken, sounds emanating from their once-quiet bodies. Groaning and hissing and shuffling.

As Eddie opened his eyes once more he saw them.

Chrissy. Fred. Patrick.

Eddie recalls all the vampire movies he had watched over the years. At the theater, on Svengoolie. All the creatures and crypts, the heroes and hunters. He had vaguely considered himself a vampire over the span of the past year.

But for some reason, seeing the three of them returning to life...by his hand...for the sake of salvation...

Reborn.

...reminded him of Dracula and his three Brides.

September 29th, 1987

The plan was not simple.

Any time someone said a plan was simple, they were lying.

The plan to kill Vecna relied on them also killing Max. Again. Let Vecna cross through the Gate into Hawkins, have Eleven kill him once and for all, in a world where he didn't have an advantage over her. And then revive Max once more before her soul was lost forever.

So Eddie found himself, once again, at the Sinclair's house. As a guest this time instead of an intruder.

Eleven needed to be at the Gate, waiting for Vecna's arrival with the others, poised to weaken him and attack as soon as he crossed over.

Which meant there was only one other person with the ability to bring Max back in time.

Eddie.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Dustin questioned as Eddie got settled, his body too big for the tiny room they had holed up in.

"I can do it," Eddie promised. "I've already brought...what...10 people back in the past week?"

"As bat people," Dustin reminded him.

"They're alive, aren't they," Eddie deadpanned. "Most of all they have their sight back too...I'm gonna fix Red up, good as new."

"You're not even sure if you can even fix yourself!" Dustin exclaimed.

"God it's been a year, you'd think that you'd be, I don't know...happy to see me alive or something," Eddie grumbled.

"Kind of hard to be happy when you killed a bunch of my friends," Dustin reminded him.

"He's got a point," Max chimed in from her place in the cushy recliner, causing Dustin to hold his hands up in emphasis.

"Fine," Eddie hissed. "Let's get this over with then, please?"

As he held his hand over Max's face, the same way that he had Vecna do in the visions that were projected into his mind, he should have focused on all the bad emotions that plagued Max. Her sorrow, her pain and loneliness. He should have sapped out all the good and let her fall into a state of hopelessness and despair. Then from there, when she was just a speck of light in an ocean of darkness, he would snuff her out.

Instead...

Instead Eddie thought about his own light. How it had started out as just a speck in an ocean of darkness. How Vecna had submerged him in darkness. Removed all of the parts of him that made him Eddie Munson. Called him a Beast. How over the course of the past 21 days, he had earned his redemption.

He was doing a good thing.

He wasn't killing Max. He wasn't damning the citizens of Hawkins to Hell. They would get their salvation.

He would be a hero.

And as she took a final gasping breath as he stole the light from her, and the ground began to quake, Eddie felt something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Before he became this thing.

Before his body was ravaged in the Upside Down.

Before he had seen Chrissy's body crumble.

Maybe he had never felt it before.

Before he started his senior year for a third time.

Before his only shot at love walked out of his life forever.

Before his mom died.

He felt hope.

The battle had been devastating. The armies of the Upside Down thrived once their Master had joined them. They had permission to do to the residents of Hawkins what they pleased.

But the residents of Hawkins had their own army waiting.

They rallied one last time at the chance to save their town, to save the world, because if Vecna was allowed to win, it would all perish.

Eddie was thankful he hadn't been a part of it. He had seen enough bloodshed. And quite honestly, he had felt enough of the chaos burn through the collective consciousness.

Eddie also felt the triumph in his connection with his own creations. He could feel them subdue their would-be brethren. Could feel the shock from Vecna himself as his Beast had turned around and created more to stifle his efforts.

But Death begets death.

First Mike died; he had always been a lucky little shit, but his luck ran out. The whole Wheeler family, short the littlest Holly, seemed to have a knack for sharpshooting. They were taking pot shots at demobats from the roof of the bakery, when a swarm of them dive-bombed.

His death lit the fuse.

A burst of Eleven's power became uncontrollable as she realized Mike was gone, and it leveled the Hawkins town center. Buildings crumbled, the clock tower came crashing to the ground. The citizens that had taken shelter there had been killed. Both Robin's and Steve's parents had been there.

Vecna had taken advantage of the momentary weakness and doubled down on his assault. More creatures of the Upside Down spilled from the gate like oil and quickly overtook the battlefield.

Mike's death might have lit the fuse.

But Hopper's was the one to cause the explosion as he finally succumbed to the Demogorgons that he had fought time and again.

Vecna didn't stand a chance once Hop's body hit the ground.

Because Eleven, who had already lost so much, had nothing else to lose. The world could burn for all she cared, if only Vecna burned too.

Eleven dug in deep, to the core of the Earth itself, and her wrath tore through Vecna with the force of a thousand supernovae.

He couldn't control it anymore, couldn't fight back.

He simply perished...

And Eddie felt the moment that it all came to an end.

It was a shockwave through the collective consciousness, it blinded him, had his ears ringing. It was a solar flare that disrupted the frequencies of all the creatures bound to the Upside Down.

...and so did Eleven.

September 30th, 1987

The aftermath of the battle was chaos.

They didn't have days or weeks to mourn, it all needed to be cleaned up quickly. What came from the Upside Down needed to be returned.

Max was revived, easily, thanks to Eddie's practice with his own creations. Her sight, however, remained lost.

"I'm sorry Red," he apologized.

"It's fine," she sighed exaggeratedly. "Guess I just have to keep learning braille."

She laughed, but Eddie knew it was just to avoid mourning an even greater loss.

The day for them to mourn would arrive soon. It was just not today.

It had taken an entire day for them to get things in order, get a plan in place.

The town was still destroyed, countless dead. But they had a plan.

There was no government to help them now, no secret agents. No one was coming to help, they had to do it themselves.

The town was still destroyed, countless dead. But they had a plan.

Eddie himself was tasked with wrangling the creatures of the Upside Down back to their realm, and then closing the gates for good as quickly as possible. With the power Vecna had unlocked within him, the responsibility could only fall on his shoulders.

He had asked his three brides--was still funny--to help him keep an eye on the perimeter of Hawkins. They flew overhead scouting as he flexed his ability through the collective consciousness to get control over the creatures running through town.

He led most of them through the gate himself, like a shepherd leading his flock.

It was almost funny now, he was still collecting lost little sheep.

Eddie vaguely wondered how he would fix himself. With this power now, maybe he could undo all that Vecna had inflicted on him.

He could close the gates and fix himself and get back to living a normal life.

Maybe he could get his soul back; the hollowness...the void was almost...itchy now. Like it was waiting for something to fill it, he just had to find the thing that fit.

Maybe he could do the same to Chrissy, and Fred and the others. Get them all their lives back.

Maybe he could resurrect the whole damn town?

He had been known as a devil worshiper for years and now...he very well might be their savior.

Eddie headed back towards the gate, pep in his step despite the ruins of a town, the remnants of lives, that waited on the other side.

He could hear voices as he approached. Dustin and Steve, Patrick and Fred, Murray, and even Nancy, who had lost so much. Chattering about what would happen next.

He noticed something on the ground as he approached. Fallen through the gate at some point, he was sure. There was an ache within him at the sight of it, but he couldn't help but feel it offered him some hope.

A silver necklace, a cross with tiny metal hyacinths wound around the arms.

Eddie crouched and grasped the necklace as well as he could with his claws, intending on reverting to his human form, if only temporarily, to put the necklace on.

He continued his approach to the gate and he could see his friends clearly now.

But he stopped in his tracks.

"Eddie?" Dustin asked him. "You ok?"

He tried to take a step closer to it, willed his wings to propel him forward, but he couldn't.

"I'm stuck," he grunted. "I can't move. I-I'm stuck."

He could feel the buzzing of the collective consciousness echo through his mind. He closed his eyes and prayed for it to disappear but it only got louder.

And the dreadful realization hit him.

There was a price to pay when you entered the Upside Down. When it saved your life.

Vecna had paid it. And now Eddie was paying it too.

The Upside Down could give its gifts, but in return, it needed a Master.

It didn't matter if the gates were still open.

Eddie would never cross through them again.

San Gabriel Valley, California - October 1st, 1987

It was early. The sun had barely risen. But you'd been out here for a good long while.

You didn't make it out to California often, for good reason. The Archbishop always lectured you. You'd always wanted to go to the beach or...to Disneyland and ride the teacups. Something innocent. Something for you.

Something selfish.

But the last time you chose something selfish...someone had died.

A hike in the mountains couldn't be selfish though, could it?

You tried to convince yourself. Time to commune with nature. Commune with God. It could almost be encouraged.

If only the last few days hadn't left a sour taste in your mouth and screams lingering in your ears.

You stopped in your tracks and closed your eyes, thoughts racing.

Why were you still here? Surely you had exceeded expectations by now? Surely you earned some peace. Couldn't you just go home now?

Your throat tightened and you could feel tears prickle your eyes.

Couldn't you go to him now and find peace together?

When your eyes opened, you saw him on the path up ahead.

You'd gotten used to him popping up now. It was never a good sign.

You remembered him showing up at all times throughout your life: a constant companion as a child, a nagging mentor through adolescence, and now a warden.

It was never a good sign when he showed his face.

"What do you want?" you called blankly, shifting to the side of the path to skirt past him. You were done trying to plead. If he wanted something, he had to plead with you.

"It's coming," he replied calmly, serenely. As you shifted past him, he grabbed your arm and his touch lit every nerve in your body alight. "It's coming and you know what needs to happen now."

"What's coming?" you questioned. He stared at you with a small, patronizing smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "You always say some cryptic shit like that. Spit it out or I swear I'll--"

"Fate." He stated simply. Purposefully.

And with a blink he was gone.

You were about to swear, to stomp...

But this was his mountain, and he wasn't about to let you have a temper tantrum on it.

The ground began rumbling beneath your feet. It shook suddenly and violently and sent you to your knees. Rocks on the inclined earth surrounding you started to tumble and roll, bounce even. You ducked and shielded yourself as boulders shattered and the debris scattered around you.

You'd incurred his wrath before. But it had never been like this. If only you listened the first time. If only you accepted what fate had in store like he said. It wouldn't be until later that you realized...

Regretfully realized.

...that the tremor spanned for miles. Buildings shook and crumbled, collapsed. The highways shifted and cracked, faults opened in the ground. People lost their homes, their lives.

And you were bitter.

It wasn't fair. None of it was. To anyone, least of all to you.

But that was the curse that followed you, wasn't it? Your fate was to defy fate.

This time...you really should have listened to him.

"Purgatory surpasses heaven and hell in poetry, because it represents a future and the others do not."

—François-René de Chateaubriand, Mémoires d'Outre-Tombe (1848)

[adorerdraco]

I’m Here ✧ Draco x Reader

Request: Hi, so I’m not sure if you’re taking these kinds of fics for Draco, but I’ve been feeling really down lately, and I was wondering if you could write a one shot or a scenario where the reader has been having a really bad day/week and Draco comforts them? And maybe Draco lays the reader on his chest and he hums a small tune to make the reader feel better? You can ignore this if it’s an issue, but I’d really appreciate it. I love all of your fics btw! They make me really happy <3

Warnings: none bc mostly fluff, some tears, super soft!draco

Words: 1.9K

A/N: i saw this and had to do it effective immediately bc i am feeling the exact same wayyy so this was really nice to think about ;( thank you so much for requesting this and for reading my stuff and i’m so glad i can help in a way <3 i’m sending you nothing but peace, love, and light !!! but i really hope this is gooood <3 do not own gif

Life was punishing you, you thought. It had to be. Because there was no way how in the span of a week everything in your day-to-day life had gone from okay to borderline catastrophic. It was as if every situation you were in was taking its form in the worst case possible scenario and all you could do was watch hopelessly as things continuously got worse sprinkled with small misfortunes in between.

It started on a regular Monday morning, sitting down for breakfast in the Great Hall with blissful ignorance. Halfway through eating your toast, your owl had come in through the open large glass windows and dropped a letter onto your plate from home that left you some very unfortunate news and had set forth a ripple effect that began making everything else go downhill as your days progressed. By the end of the school week, you had managed to blow up a potion, lose house points because of said potion when it splashed onto some people and had some physically altering effects, tripped over your footing and fell in the middle of a crowded corridor, failed a surprise quiz, forgot to turn in an essay, got into an argument with a friend, accidentally slept in and missed a morning class, and took a trip to the hospital wing for a migraine that didn’t want to leave you alone. You could’ve sworn you had somehow been thrown into purgatory, or limbo, or something outer-worldly. 

“Are you alright?” Draco had asked you right after breakfast that Monday morning as he was walking you to your first class. “What was in the letter your owl gave you? You look worried.”

“It was nothing,” you dismissed quickly, trying to put on a half-hearted smile while you spoke to make it more convincing. “I’m fine, just tired.”

It was the beginning of the week, and he did keep you up late the night before when you were sneaking around together, so he just shook his head up and down and took your excuse even though he felt like there was more to it than you were letting on. But as the days went on, he was becoming more observant of the way you were acting and even looking. He didn’t like that every morning he saw the shadows under your eyes get deeper and darker, and he didn’t like how you would close your eyes in pain when you would groan about your headache. He also didn’t like the way he hadn’t seen you truly smile or laugh all week even when he tried countless times to amuse you or cheer you up. But what he didn’t like most of all was that he felt like there was nothing he could do. 

On Wednesday afternoon, he tried asking you again. You were sitting in the Quad with him on a bench and he was telling you a story from earlier in the day about how he had ‘accidentally’ tripped this Gryffindor boy and got Snape to take away house points from him that he thought for sure would you make laugh or perhaps give him a disapproving redirection, but when he glanced up to see your reaction, he noticed you weren’t even listening, to begin with. You had been staring down at your shoes and the way they lined up against the cracks in the pavement, kicking around some gravel as your mind was running a million thoughts per second.

“Love?” He said to you softly. You looked up at him swiftly with a quiet questioning hum, e/c eyes widened slightly from being ripped away from your thoughts suddenly. “You know if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me.”

“I know,” you nodded warmly. “I’m okay, Dray. I’m honestly just tired.”

And you were telling the truth, in a sense. You really were tired; physically, mentally, emotionally.

He frowned, dissatisfied with your answer. “Right, well if anything at all comes up, I’m here.”

From then on, Draco took it upon himself to try and increase his affections and compliments. He would hug you a little tighter, kiss you a little longer, whisper sweet little nothings into your ear before he left you for class. You felt a little bad lying to him, withholding the truth from him, and you saw the concern in his light gray’s when you’d meet him in the mornings and for the rest of the day, but it only made you feel a tad bit worse. You were starting to feel guilty for the way he was worrying, feeling like you were dragging him down into the dumps with you and raining on his usual carefree parades.

On Friday morning, you didn’t meet him for breakfast and you were out of the Great Hall faster than he could catch you. He felt like a stalker when he walked by your class, peeking his head in to see if you were there and well. He spotted you sitting at your desk, hunched over your unopened books with a grimace on your face and your head in your hands. He wanted to go in and whisk you away to somewhere far and quiet, but the Professor had caught him by the door and sent him on his way before he could even think of doing anything of the sort.

You felt the day had gone by extremely slow, relative to how the week was moving and also impossibly dismal. You were counting down the minutes until the end of the school day, ready to run to your dorm right after your last class and bury yourself deep into your duvet and pillows for the rest of the weekend.

Head still pounding, you trudged over to your final class, stopping outside the doors when you saw a small group of your housemates standing around with unnerved expressions as they passed each other papers and spoke in hushed tensed tones.

“I studied all night but my friend took the test earlier and she told me during lunch that it had stuff on it that wasn’t even in the reading!” You heard one exclaim in distress.

“We have a test?” You accidentally said aloud and a pair of eyes turned to look at you confusingly.

“Yeah? Professor’s been telling us all week.”

A scoff of disbelief escaped your lips, an overwhelming sense of defeat washing over you as you turned briskly on your heel and in the opposite direction of your classroom. Tears started pricking at your eyes, you felt the stinging of them wanting to be released but you refused to let them all out in the open and especially in front of people who were still taking their time to head to their classes. 

You were making a beeline towards your common room, blinking rapidly to try and clear your vision that was quickly pooling with unshed tears while trying to steady your breathing in another failed attempt to calm yourself. You were nearly there, you could tell by the paintings and doors that you passed by and the black stain splattered on the floor you saw every day on your way to the dorms from someone’s dropped ink bottle that Filch hasn’t been able to get rid of. 

Almost there, you kept repeatedly reminding yourself.

All hope of solace was gone when you didn’t notice the body you had unknowingly crashed into. All you felt were strong hands around your biceps, holding you in place from toppling backward and the very familiar scent of expensive cologne and mint.

“Y/N? Why aren’t you in class?” You looked up at the platinum blond sadly, his worried eyes searching yours with such care that it pushed you over the edge.

You didn’t answer him and instead wrapped your arms tightly around Draco’s middle, burying your face deep into his robes and letting out quiet and frail weeps that broke his heart. He held you tightly, pressing kisses to the top of your head and muttering soft “I’m here’s” into your hair. You stayed in his embrace for a few minutes, letting your tears freely fall into his vest with a sense of relief that only he was able to give you at this point in time.

“I’m sorry I cried on you,” you choked out when you pulled away from him, desperately wiping away at your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“You don’t ever have to apologize for that,” he said quickly. He brought his hand up to your face, his thumb swiping delicately over a stray tear that was sitting on your jaw while you closed your eyes in comfort. “Do you want to go back to my room? I can set you up really nicely and we can talk if you’d like?”

“Yes please, I’d like that a lot.”

Draco interlocked your fingers with his, bringing the pair up to his lips with a warm kiss on the back of your hand before walking the two of you over to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. It was empty when you walked in, not a soul in sight since everyone was still in class and it made it much easier for him to sneak you into his singular Prefect room you were now extremely grateful he had. He watched contently when you shed off your robes and kicked off your shoes and immediately slipped into one of his dark green jumpers that fit you big. 

You were perched on the edge of his bed, his scent from his sweater engulfing you and doing a much better job of calming you down than you wanted to admit. He followed in your footsteps and changed into something comfier and when he finally sat beside you with his hand falling over yours as an encouragement to talk - you did. You vented to him all about the letter from home, the migraine, your classes, the argument between you and your friend, and everything else that came to mind.

“And I feel bad for ignoring you and not telling you all this before but I didn’t want to burden you,” you finished with sniffles, gazing up at him with a gloomy expression. 

“Y/N, I love you, and nothing you say to me is a burden,” he frowned slightly, “when I tell you I’m here, I mean it, for anything. You’re so important to me and it kills me to see you upset.”

In a careful movement, he had scooted towards you and affectionately cupped your face before placing a loving kiss on your forehead and murmured to you, “don’t ever hesitate to come to me.”

You let him pull you under his covers, draping his large duvet over your entangled bodies with your head resting right above his chest, the steady beatings of his heart instantly sending you into a much-needed peace. His chin was rested right atop your head and you felt his fingers run up and down your arm soothingly while he thought.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?” He asked quietly.

“Can you help me fall asleep?” you muttered, closing your eyes gently when his hand smoothed over the back of your hair. You felt him nod against your head and after a small moment silence, you heard him begin to hum the faint tune of your favorite song.

You lied there in bliss, enjoying the way his chest was vibrating against your ear and the way his fingers were playing with the ends of your hair, curling the strands around his fingers and then moving upwards to massage your scalp. And for a minute, everything was finally okay again as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, a full heart and with your love calmly lulling you away with a soft and now distant humming.

[blackandgoldandeverythingnice]

i don’t remember me (before you) - j. debrusk [part ii]

Pairing: Jake DeBrusk x female!OC

Summary: Could it be more cliche than falling in love with your neighbor when she wasn’t exactly available? What happens when getting her to fall in love with you isn’t even the hard part?

Word Count: 9,077

A/N: so, part ii - maybe one day i’ll get good at summaries and update them accordingly but honestly, no promises. this one has a LOT of warnings and i’ll adore any and all feedback. 

Warnings: adult themes, alcohol consumption, abuse [very much the abuse in this part so please be warned], shitty boyfriend/ex-boyfriend, swearing...I think that’s it

part ii

“I have travelled many miles, I don't wanna walk no more Every road and every highway led me right back to your door” -lord huron

Jake was pretty sure he’d never seen Alina nervous before. Normally she was the quintessential Russian: serious, blank face that belied nothing about how she was feeling. But right now she was tapping her foot nervously and gnawing on her bottom lip. Her hair was up in a little half ponytail thing and he forgot he usually only saw her in scrubs, his sweats or a mini dress for a night out. This version of Alina was softer, not as sexy as ‘club Alina’ but he thought he might like it better. She had on a pair of ripped jeans with a loose cardigan buttoned up, cutting in a low v on her chest. They didn’t speak much in the car ride over but Jake kept a hand on her knee, rubbing at the bare skin he could get to.

When she’d showed up at his apartment after getting ready, she shoved a bottle of wine into his hand and anxiously asked if he thought it would be good enough. Jake had managed to make her laugh when he’d snorted at her, asking how it was she thought he would know what wine was good or not.

That same bottle was now being grasped tightly in one hand, her other squeezing at his thigh tightly.

“Ease up, Leenie – you’re gonna leave a mark.” He teased, tapping her hand softly.

“Oh! Sorry, Jed.” But she didn’t loosen her grip much and he just let her keep clinging to him. He realized while she was usually a blank face to everyone around her, lately – more often than not – she was completely and purely herself around him. It’s like a wall that had been blocking back emotions before had come down and now everything she thought played clearly on her face for him to see. But only for him.

It wasn’t a long ride to get to Charlie’s and when they pulled up, Jake went to climb out of the car but realized that Alina was still sitting quietly in the back seat.

“Maybe you should just go without me. I can have him take me back home.” She nodded at the driver who was frowning and looked like he was a minute away from yelling at them to get in or out.

“Nope.” Jake responded, reaching into the car and physically dragging her out. She stumbled slightly as she hit the curb and he managed to shut the door to the car mere seconds before the driver pulled away.

“Jake…” she practically whined. “They don’t like me. I should just go, you’ll have a better time without me.”

“Leenie, if you don’t go, I’m sure as hell not going. I spend all my time with these idiots, I want to be wherever you are.” The hesitance remained on her face and he stepped closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “If you really don’t want to go, we’ll go home. Or out to dinner. Whatever you want. Ride or die.”

That earned him a giggle. “Ride or die?”  

“I’m your ride or die, whatever you want, we’ll do.” He nodded seriously until she finally gave him a smile, her facing turning determined.

“Okay. We’ll go. But if they’re not nice to you, I’m gonna let ‘em have it.” 

“I expect nothing less.” He teased, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. Forehead kisses had become more and more frequent. As had holding hands, cuddling and the way Alina would nudge her nose into his neck, brushing her lashes against his skin. At this point, they were more affectionate than he’d been with any previous girlfriend.

It still wasn’t enough but he instinctively knew he needed to go slow, knew that he couldn’t risk pushing her into something she wasn’t ready for. Shit, he wasn’t even sure if she felt the same as he did. All he had was a ‘feeling’ that things between them were different, that they were out of the sure footing that had been their friendship and in some weird limbo zone where they were both trying to figure out what the other wanted.

Sighing to himself, he took her free hand and pulled her towards Charlie’s building. He had forgotten to ask exactly who was going to be there and now that they were in the elevator, he felt a little panicky about what they were walking into.

While he’d deny it to her, he knew Alina wasn’t his friends’ favorite. And her desire to protect him meant she overreacted to the smallest chirp that was thrown his way even when it didn’t bother him. He only hoped that tonight would go okay.

Walking into Charlie’s apartment, Jake immediately felt like this was the wrong decision. There were at least eight couples and some of the girls were looking at Alina critically, from the bottle of wine in her hand to the way she was clinging onto Jake. Looking friendly wasn’t something Alina excelled at so the stoic look that Jake knew came from a place of nervousness or shyness, instead made her look like a mega bitch.

He squeezed her hand gently and turned his face into her ear. “Smile, babe. You look entirely too Russian right now.”

Alina snorted, squeezing his hand back and relaxing slightly, smiling at him. “It’s just my face, I can’t help it.”

Jake rolled his eyes, dropping her hand and placing it on her lower back to lead her through the room. He wanted to find Charlie and, more importantly, Charlie’s girlfriend. Kiley was one of the sweetest girls he knew and had always been kind to Alina, usually the only one she’d talk to while waiting for him after games.

Walking into the kitchen, he found the hosts putting the finishing touch on plates of charcuterie. And really, that just meant they were unwrapping the clearly pre-made platters.

“So much for doing the heavy lifting,” Jake teased, bundling Kiley up into a big hug. Charlie hit him but stepped around him to pull Alina into a hug. Jake noticed her stiffen slightly but return the hug before pulling away quickly.

“Ki – you remember Alina.” Jake gestured, returning to her side and throwing an arm around her shoulders.

“Of course! Welcome.” She pulled her into a hug before accepting the offered bottle of wine. “Oh wow, this is really nice – you shouldn’t have.”

Alina flushed slightly, waving a hand dismissively. “It was always one of my favorites so I thought I’d share.”

“Well thank you.” Kiley said sincerely and Jake couldn’t help smiling at her. Charlie really had found a good one. “I say we open this in here and just save it for the two of us.”

“Great idea.” She grinned back conspiratorially. “Can I help with anything?”

“Grab a few glasses, yeah? And are you any good at opening wine?”

“Am I ever!” she responded, grabbing a wine key and getting to work on the wine she’d brought. “I used to work in my Dedushka’s restaurant, if you fucked up the bottle, you had to pay for it but you also got to drink it.”

Kiley grinned at the story, taking it at face value but Jake’s head shot up at the sound of her talking about being younger. He’d never once heard her mention anything about working in a restaurant.

“What’s a ‘dad-kush-kah’?” Charlie asked earning a little smile from Alina who promptly corrected his pronunciation.

“Grandfather.” She got a little faraway look in her eyes but quickly returned to the task at hand.

“Come on, man – come say hi to the rest of the guys.” Charlie tried to shove him back in the direction of the living room but he dug his heels in, twirling around to escape and slide next to Alina.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, leaning down so only she could hear him. “You okay? I can stay with you.”

It looked like she was thinking about it, her gray eyes searching his before she shook her head slightly. “Go on, I’m good – I’ll be a wine opening maniac.”

Instinctively, he pressed a kiss to her temple and ignored the look that Charlie and Kiley exchanged before following Chuck into the living room. He greeted his teammates and their significant others, smiling good-naturedly as the boys all yelled his name or teased him about one thing or another. He was just happy that Alina didn’t hear them or she’d end up lighting them up in his defense.

He managed to stay in the room for all of fourteen minutes before drifting back into the kitchen. Despite Charlie saying it was going to be just couples, a few of the girlfriends had brought friends and he got the distinct feeling Charlie Coyle’s girlfriend was trying to set him up with one of them. He walked back into the kitchen to find Alina perched on the counter, chatting animatedly with Kiley. He paused in the doorway to watch her as she gestured dramatically with one hand, large glass of wine in the other, only pausing her story to take a long sip and accept a piece of cheese that Ki had handed her. The sweater she had on had slipped off one shoulder and he eyed the bare skin greedily, aching to touch her.

It was a relief to see her getting along with at least one of the girls, a light floaty feeling filled him at the sight. Baby steps, he told himself, baby steps.

Eventually, he couldn’t resist interrupting, moving towards Alina and fitting himself between her legs. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rested her head on the top of his while continuing to talk to Kiley.

“But yeah, I’m super lucky the other nurses are so experienced and are actually super sweet. Have you been doing nights or days?”

The two girls continued the conversation around him like he hadn’t even joined and he contented himself with sharing Alina’s glass of wine and helping himself to one of the smaller trays that hadn’t been circulated out into the living room yet. They spent the better part of an hour in there, switching to a different bottle when Alina’s fancy one had been finished.

“If you’re not gonna get your own glass, you have to be the refill bitch.”  She muttered in his ear, pressing an errant kiss to the side of his head before refocusing on whatever Kiley was saying to her.

He pushed back from the counter to refill from a new bottle, pouring it nearly to the brim before returning to his position. A couple other girls had wandered in to join them and Jake felt Alina stiffen slightly as the kitchen got more crowded.

“Ohh, boujee! Who brought this?” one of the girls cooed, picking up the now empty bottle that Alina had brought. “This is like 200 bucks.”

Surprised, he turned to catch Alina’s eye but she avoided his stare, cheeks flushing at the attention.

“JD’s gir – uh, neighbor brought it.” Kiley answered. Half a dozen people turned to look at Alina who just waved awkwardly and tightened her grip on him.

“That was – ” one of the girls who Jake was pretty sure was a friend of a friend paused to eye the way Alina and Jake were tangled together before continuing, “Generous of you, Jake.”

He knew what she was doing. It was something all the guys had to deal with: girls that wanted to be with a player because of the money. And if a girl was like that she usually assumed all the others were. Jake flushed with anger, opening his mouth to respond but Alina beat him to it.

“Actually, I bought it myself.” She answered stiffly, tugging the glass from Jake’s hand to take a sip.

The kitchen felt ice cold and tense, nothing like it had been when it had just been Kiley and Alina chatting. Thankfully, Chuck and Gryz came flying into the room shouting about everyone going into the living room. The girls that had just come in exchanged looks before turning to go while Alina stayed put. Kiley shot the two of them a concerned look but grabbed a few things to bring into the living room, leaving them alone.

He turned around so he could face her, placing a hand on either side of her body and leaning his forehead against hers. “Leen, ignore them.”

“I told you your friends hated me.” She mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Those are absolutely not my friends.” He nudged her nose with his. “Do you wanna go? I told you, the second you want to leave, we can.”

She was quiet for a second, fingers trailing along the sliver of skin between his shirt collar and hair. He practically melted into her at the sensation. “No, no – I need to be nicer. I do want your friends to like me…”

“How bout this: we spend another hour or so here, drink a bit more fancy wine and eat some cheese then we’ll go out to dinner – just you and me.”

That earned him a smile and her eyes brightened for the first time that night. “You’d do that for me?”

He sighed, feeling the wine loosen his tongue slightly. “Leenie, when’re you gonna learn I’d do anything for you?”

“I don’t deserve you, Jed.” She mumbled, staring straight at him, her eyes serious and intense.

“We’re not gonna do our little argument about who deserves who.” He teased but she stayed serious, eyes dropping slightly to his lips.

“Jake, I – ” he wasn’t sure what she was going to say, he wasn’t sure if she even knew because she cut herself off. 

Instead, she leaned forward and pressed her lips gently to his. It caught him so off-guard he hesitated for a second but thankfully his instinct kicked in before she could pull back in embarrassment and he caught the back of back of her head, pulling her in closer.

It was like everything he’d been dreaming about but better. Alina tasted sweet like honey, her mouth hot on his as she wrapped her arms around him tightly. He wound the hand not buried in her hair around her waist, tucking up under her sweater to press his palm against her skin.

Reluctantly, she pulled back, staring at him seriously. “I’m sorry.”

“Why the fuck are you sorry, Leen? Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

She giggled, sliding off the counter and burying her face into his chest before turning up to look at him. “You still wanna stay?” she teased, eyes sparkling.

“Fuck,” he grumbled into the top of her head. “I really really don’t but we should.”

Just as he was leaning down to steal another kiss, Charlie bounced back into the room. “Heyo, what’re you two doing? Come have some more wine before we have to switch to the boxed stuff.”

He stared at the two of them, tangled around each other and faces flushed but that didn’t stop him from continuing to egg them on about moving into the living room with the rest of the party.

“Alright, alright – we’re coming!” he yelled over his shoulder finally, shooting him a dirty look for interrupting. He turned back to face Alina, resting his head against hers. “Maybe we’ll stay for like twenty minutes?”

Smirking, she stood on tiptoe to press the lightest kiss to his lips before moving around him to go into the living room. He scurried behind her to follow, catching up easily. He wrapped his arm around her waist, feeling her relax at his touch. The move wasn’t lost on nearly everyone in the room. While officially Alina had been introduced as his neighbor, he was pretty sure a blind person could see the way he was touching her and staring at her and refusing to be farther than an inch away from her.

Alina remained controlled with her drinking, sipping wine slower than she had been drinking lately and that in and of itself felt like a victory. She did relax slightly but Jake noticed how she tended to stay close to him or Kiley. If she was ever talking to another of the girls, Kiley was also involved and if she moved along, Alina would do the same after a minute or so. She’d finally settled into a conversation with Charlie Coyle and his girlfriend leaving Jake to talk to a few other people while still keeping a close eye on her.

He desperately wanted to leave, wanted to get her alone so they could talk or make out or do more, he didn’t know. But he also wanted to give her the chance to get along with the group because he was hoping she’d be part of it soon.

“Slim! My guy! You crash any cars lately?” Khuls came blazing in loudly and Jake noticed Alina’s eyes shooting over and narrowing at the words.

He rubbed at his neck, “Er, not lately, man.”

Once the can was open, a few of the other guys started to chirp him, mostly around if he was going to grow a mullet again this year or if he’d been working out instead of going to McDonalds every night. He kept glancing over at Alina who was back to Russian Bitch Face and he was worried about what was about to come next if the guys didn’t stop.

And sure enough, Karson said something else about his driving and then Alina was at his side, threading her fingers with his. There was barely contained rage on her face but she seemed to swallow it down, instead squeezing his hand tightly.

Standing on tiptoe, she pressed her lips to his ear. “I’m ready to go if you are.”

He knew she was trying to make an effort, trying to get his friends to like her and in this case that meant not saying a word to them when they were chirping him.

He knew his face gave away everything when he looked down at her with a goofy smile. “Yeah, Leens – let’s go.”

“You guys are leaving already?” Kiley pouted and rather than admit Alina had just about had enough of being around so many people she wasn’t comfortable with he shrugged, swinging their clasped hands lightly.

“Sorry, Ki – we have late dinner plans.”

“Where are you going?” the girl that had been bitchy about the wine Alina had brought cut in and Jake was never outwardly rude so he just gave her a tight smile.

“Committee, down by the waterfront near our place.” He liked saying ‘our place’ like they lived together for real instead of just in the same building. “It’s Leenie’s favorite.” He added to get this girl to realize Alina wasn’t just some random girl that he’d brought out for a good time.

“Nice.” Chuck gave a reassuring nod, seeming to understand that it was time for them to leave. “Thanks for coming, bro.”

They made their goodbyes as quickly as possible but it still took about fifteen minutes to get out of there. By the time they were heading down the hall, Jake was thrumming with energy at getting to be alone with Alina. As they stepped into the elevator and the doors slid shut, Alina was wrapping herself around his body and pulling him to her lips for a soft kiss.

He pulled back, grinning down at her. “Do you actually want dinner?” he teased and she flushed slightly before smacking his stomach.

“I’m a classy lady, I need dinner first.” She smirked back at him, stepping up for another kiss but he pulled back so she couldn’t reach him.

“You know this is more than that, eh?” He paused, serious as he brushed her hair back off her shoulders.

She squeezed his waist, tucking one hand under his t-shirt and tugging on the belt loop with her other. “If it was just that, I would’ve taken advantage of the four times I’ve woken up to your hard cock poking me in the ass.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, flushing red and feeling his body overheat at her words. “You noticed that?”

“Jesus – yeah. I noticed it.” Now she was flushing, biting on her lip teasingly and trailing her fingers down his torso. “But yeah, Jakey – let’s go to dinner first.”

She seemed to have timed it perfectly, winking up at him just as the elevator door slid open and then she slinked out, heading towards their waiting Uber, leaving Jake shaking his head like a puppy. Before the doors could close on him he hurried after her, catching her around the waist just as she was opening the car door and he hustled them inside.

The couple glasses of wine they’d both drank seemed to have made them both more relaxed and Jake spent the ride back to South Boston contenting himself with sweet, slow kisses and brushing his fingers along the waistband of her jeans. He was aching just thinking about what it would be like when they got home. It was tempting to just race home and throw her on the mattress but Jake wanted to talk about it first. Make sure this wasn’t a rebound or a hookup. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take it if they weren’t on the same page.

By the time they got to the restaurant, Jake was half hard and regretting his plan to go through dinner. The Uber driver had given them a sharp warning to stop getting handsy and Alina had just replied back in Russian angrily which seemed to scare him into leaving them alone.

They were both happy it was a Tuesday and the restaurant was only half full. Jake requested a table in the back corner and while he’d always made fun of couples that sat on the same side, it was impossible to separate himself from being close to her. So he slid in next to her, crowding into her space until she was playfully trying to push him away.

“What?” he asked, ducking in close so he could kiss her. “You think I can sit all the way over there when you’re here looking like that?”

“Like what?” she teased.

“How you always do,” Jake shrugged. “Perfect.”

Alina flushed and Jake was pretty sure he’d never seen her blush as much as she had tonight. She slid her hand along his thigh, dancing her fingertips up along his leg until he was inhaling sharply and caught her wrist with his hand.

“Why won’t you let me play?” she teased, pressing her face against his neck.

Jake had to take in a few deep calming breaths and he felt grateful when the server stopped by. They ordered cocktails and an appetizer but he didn’t think the two of them had the patience for actual dinner.

As soon as the server walked away, Alina was back to teasing her fingers along his leg and he had to get hold of the situation before he wasn’t able to think straight.

“Leenie…can we talk? For just a minute?”

She frowned slightly, pulling back when she realized he was being serious. “Um, of course. I just – you want this too, right?”

The question caught him so off-guard he was quiet for a beat too long. Alina looked up at him sadly, biting hard on her lower lip. He panicked slightly, turning to face her so he could hold her face and she couldn’t avoid his stare.

“Alina,” he started seriously. “I want this. I want you. But I also want more.”

He held his breath, waiting for his words to sink in. She was gripping on to his wrist tightly, eyes scanning his nervously. “Like…you like me?”

He huffed a breath out. How could she not know? 

“Yeah, Leens. I like you. A lot. Like a lot a lot.”

“A lot a lot?”

“More than you could know.” He admitted, heart pounding in his chest. He’d watched Alina go through a traumatic relationship and he liked to think he’d helped her start to heal. Over the last year and a bit of knowing her, he’d fallen hard and stupid but it had felt like she’d been right there with him.

She opened her mouth to respond but shut it, looking shier than he’d ever seen her before. It felt like she was quiet for hours until she finally spoke.

“I – I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about someone before.” She admitted quietly, rubbing her thumb along the underside of his wrist. “I’m – shit…I’m not easy and kind of a disaster but you make me feel good; feel like someone that deserves to be loved. I want to try this. I want to be with you if you want to be with me.”

“We’ll go slow. I don’t want to push you but I need you to know I’m not gonna give up or go away just because you get a little too drunk one night or you yell at half my friends.” He teased slightly and she gave a watery little chuckle.

“Can we still have sex tonight though?” she asked and he choked on air, glaring at her when she started laughing.

“I might hold out on you just for that.” He answered with zero truth in his words. She raised one eyebrow and just leaned back without a word before he huffed a sigh. “Yeah okay, there’s no way I’m ever going to deny you anything.”

It was obvious he wasn’t just talking about tonight and instead of speaking, Alina just leaned forward to kiss him gently.

Their drinks arrived and then the food shortly after while the two of them went back to their normal relationship, joking and teasing each other except this time there were kisses and sly touches mixed in. Jake felt like he was floating. It was everything he’d been wanting for more than a year and it was better than he’d ever imagined.

Before the server could even ask if they wanted more food or drinks, Jake was sliding his credit card over. All he wanted was to get Alina alone. The restaurant was only a block away from their building and as soon as the check was signed, he was bundling her out the door and practically dragging her along as they walked.

Alina giggled behind him and he just squeezed her hand tighter. “I’m not gonna run away from you, Jed.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you it’s that you’re a drunk runner.”

“Trust me,” she started to say and he glanced over at her, drinking in the happy glow around her and the way her eyes were sparkling back at him. “I’m not running away from this.”

--- ---

“Holy shit.” Jake exhaled into Alina’s neck as he tried to catch his breath. 

He’d collapsed on top of her and he could feel her still pulsing around him and her heart racing. He lifted his head to see her staring back at him, eyes soft and a happy little smile playing on her kiss-bruised lips. She ran a hand through his hair as he finally rolled off of her, hissing slightly at the loss of her around him.

“We’ve been cuddling for weeks when we could’ve been doing that?” she whispered, rolling into him so she could wrap around his body. He lifted his arm up to hold her close, smirking and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“To be fair, I’ve been thinking about doing that for more than a year.”

“Oh?” she raised an eyebrow at him. “And how did you prepare? Watch some game tape?”

He threw his head back with a laugh, sliding a hand down her side to land on her ass. “Lotta nights alone in hotel rooms thinking about what I’d do if I had you in my bed.”

“Did it live up to your expectations?”

“Not even a little.” He answered, grinning at the glare she gave him. Before she could say anything he tilted her head up to catch her lips in another kiss then pulled back. “It was a million times better.”

They fell quiet, content to stay cuddled up in the little cocoon they’d made. Alina’s bed was a massive king but they stayed on top of each other, the sheets tangled around them. Jake felt like he was moving through a dream. Last night he had been arguing with his teammates about Alina and how they were ‘just friends’ and now he was in her bed with her naked body pressed against him, trailing her fingers up and down his stomach gently. He traced the length of her spine, a little smile playing on his lips.

He stared down at her, eyes drinking in her features. There was a little birthmark he’d never noticed right on her temple. Her hair was a mess, the dark waves tickling his arm. She was staring across the room sleepily, eyes hooded and a satisfied little smile on her lips. The warmth of her body and the way she was distractedly running her fingers along his skin was making him sleepy. Eventually, her movements slowed and they both dropped off to sleep.

The next thing Jake knew a loud banging was startling the two of them awake. Alina shot up into a sitting position next to him, blinking awake and alert faster than he was. The banging continued, coupled with muffled yelling.

Frantically, she rolled out of the bed, grabbing her phone before snagging his button down and pulling it on as she hurried out of the room.

“Fuck.” Jake hissed, jumping out to follow her only pausing to grab a pair of shorts he’d left at some point.

The banging was deafening in the living room, shouts coming through the door and it wasn’t hard to guess who was out there based on the language and the sheer fear on Alina’s face.

“Baby, let me – ” he moved towards the door but she got between him, pushing back on his chest.

She started to yell back through the door in Russian, clearly telling her ex to go away but he just kept pounding loudly. It was nearly three in the morning and he was going to wake up the neighbors if he didn’t leave soon. Nothing she was saying was working and Jake felt helpless. There was pure fear etched on her face and he stepped behind her to place a calming hand on her back.

“Do you want me to call the police?” it was the only thing he could think of except opening the door and telling him to fuck off himself. He was bigger than her ex but he’d always noticed there was something unhinged that reflected in his eyes. But if it meant protecting Alina, he’d go toe to toe with the guy.

“Yes – no – shit, they never help. I’ll just – I – fuck. I’m going to open the door but keep the chain on. He – he’s yelling about you.” She whispered at him, panic and fear overwhelming her momentarily and some of what she said made no sense. “There’s something on Instagram?”

Jake paled wondering what the fuck could’ve been posted in the last few hours to put this guy in a rage. He could only imagine that it wasn’t good.

Alina cracked the door slightly, hissing back in Russian as her ex pushed hard against the door trying to snap the chain. She jumped back in fear and there was zero-way Jake was going to let this continue.

He stepped forward, pushing Alina behind him. The second her ex caught his eye, his face turned red and he shook the door harder.  

“Stay fuck away Alinochka.” His words were followed by another hard bang as he tried to muscle through the chain.

“You need to leave.” Jake shot back, forgetting he was standing in just a pair of shorts while Alina was wearing his shirt which was only making the guy angrier.

He switched back to Russian, yelling angrily at Alina who was responding but her voice was shaking.

“Leen – this isn’t okay, I’m getting rid of him.”

The fear grew on her face and she grabbed his arm frantically. “Jake, no. You can’t get into a fight because of me.”

“He’s a piece of shit, I don’t want him anywhere near you.” He squeezed her arm softly before turning back to the door and inhaling deeply, trying to control his own temper. He threw the door open and thankfully her ex was smaller than he remembered. Definitely still an angry maniac who hit women but Jake was stronger.

Her ex tried to barrel through the door, attempting to get by him and to Alina, shoving into Jake who pushed him back. “Not gonna say it again, man. Get the fuck out of here. And don’t fucking come back.”

He tried again to get past Jake who muscled him back. He had tunnel vision, entirely focused on getting her ex the fuck away from her. He really didn’t want to get into a fist fight in the middle of the night but he would if it meant keeping her safe. Another shove and this time Jake was knocked back into the apartment. Alina gave a little shriek of panic and he heard her on the phone, giving their address and begging for someone to come quickly.

Again, her ex barreled towards him and this time, caught him around the waist. Jake fell back with a thud and just barely had time to get his arm up to protect himself from a punch. The second one landed, cracking him dully on the side of the head. Going off instinct, he pushed his hands on his chest, shoving as hard as he could to get him off of him.

The move managed to allow him to scramble up and reposition himself in front of Alina who looked like she was having a panic attack. But he barely had time to glance at her before returning his focus to her absolute fucking psycho ex who was preparing to take another swing at him. Ducking from the blow, he managed to hit him squarely in the face, hearing the satisfying crunch of a broken nose. Blood started to drip onto the floor and it slowed him down long enough for two cops to come barreling into the room, one grabbing her ex and the other pushing him back.

One cop tried to get control of the screaming Russian who was spewing blood all over the place while Jake immediately threw his hands up defensively to show he wasn’t doing anything. It only took about thirty seconds for the cops to recognize him.

“Jesus, DeBrusk?” the one that had initially tried to restrain him before realizing he wasn’t the problem. He was an older guy, maybe his dad’s age while the guy trying to hold onto Alina’s ex was younger and beefier, practically a John Cena clone.

“Yeah – can you guys get this asshole away from my girlfriend?” he snarled angrily, stepping over to snag Alina’s hand and pull her close to him. He was trying to calm his breathing, shaking out his hand that was already killing him while pulling her into his side.

“Okay, let’s all calm down here. Jesus – does this guy speak English?” the other officer said, still struggling to control him.

“Sir, officer, I’m sorry – he does but his English isn’t great.” Alina managed to get out, her voice cracking slightly. “His name is Mikhail Drozdov.”

Mikhail’s eyes flashed dangerously at Alina and he tried again to lunge forward to grab at her.

“None of that.” Officer Cena clone grunted, using one hand to twist Mikhail’s arm back behind him at a painful angle to snag his handcuffs before finally restraining him and plopping him down on the floor. “Stay. Does he understand ‘stay’?”

Alina hissed at Mikhail, her words sounding harsh and bitter. He was still glaring at the way she was tucked protectively into Jake’s side. The longer he was sitting there, the stronger the scent of vodka grew and Jake realized the guy was completely obliterated.

“Now that he’s restrained, can I ask you two a few questions?”

“Yes, sir.” Jake said, turning to his media training. He was going to get lit up by the front office if this got out but he was just happy he’d been here to protect Alina and now he just wanted to focus on getting everyone the fuck out of her apartment. “Can we grab some clothes first?”

The officer smirked at the pair of them in their state of undress. Alina was trying to cover herself and Jake made a point to shield as much of her body as she could.

“Go ahead, kids. We’ll try to interview Igor over here while we wait.”

Jake turned carefully, still keeping her as covered as he could as he nudged her back towards her bedroom. The second they were in the room Alina burst into tears and threw herself into his arms.

“Holy shit, Jake – I’m so sorry. So so fucking sorry.” She rambled into the crook of his neck, her tears soaking into his skin. “I don’t know what happened. He was yelling about something on Instagram? What does that even mean? How did he know we were together?”

Jake’s stomach flipped. Someone from the party had to have posted something that showed the pair of them together. He didn’t think it would be from the restaurant, that would take a lot to find but if it was in the background of one of the guys’ stories, it was possible.

He drew back so he could look at her, pushing her hair off her face and pressing a quick kiss to her nose. “I don’t know, baby. Maybe one of the guys shared something? And we were in the back? I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened.”

“How much trouble are you going to be in?” she asked, focusing her worry on him. It made his heart hurt a little to think about the fact that some asshole had just physically tried to assault her and she was worried about him. Carefully, she brushed at his eye where the punch had landed. “I bet the cops would let you go back to your place. You don’t have to be involved. It’ll just be me and Mikhail.”

“Leen, I’m not leaving you. We didn’t do anything wrong. I’ll talk to Bergy in the morning. He’ll help but right now we have to go talk to them.”

Nervously, she nodded through wide, watery eyes. He hated seeing the terror on her face so he pulled her in for a kiss, pressing his lips to hers and holding her tightly for a long moment. When he released her, they quickly got dressed; Jake pulling on a Bruins sweatshirt of his that Alina had stolen a couple weeks ago while she dragged on a pair of yoga pants while keeping his shirt on. The buttons were crooked and only two of them done up so he paused to carefully fix it for her.

Finally they emerged from her room to find two more cops had arrived and Mikhail still on the floor, spitting an angry stream of Russian at those around him. When he spotted Alina he snarled and tried to move forward.

“Where’d you find this guy?” Cena clone asked, kicking at his leg slightly.

Alina ignored him, walking back towards the first cop they’d talked to. “I’m Alina Agapov.”

“Yes, ma’am. We pulled your info. I’m Sergeant McDonald. Let’s take a seat in the kitchen, okay?” It was like a switch had flipped, the police officer turning into a kindly uncle as he led Alina and Jake towards the kitchen island where the two of them sat down. “Looks like you have an active restraining order against Mr. Drozdov.”

Jake shot a surprised look at Alina. He had no idea that she’d taken her ex to court and he hated himself for not having been around to help her through it. And that she hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him about it.

She swallowed hard, moving closer to Jake and he wrapped his arm around her, letting her lead the conversation.

“Yes, that’s right. We just had the hearing a few weeks ago. He – he’s not supposed to come near me.”

“No, ma’am. We’re going to bring him into the station and hold him. He’ll have the option of bail but the more times he breaks the order, the worse it’ll be.” Sergeant McDonald said softly but his words did nothing to calm Jake’s anger.

“‘More times he breaks it’? What the fuck does that mean – he’ll just keep trying to attack her but bail will go up?”

“Calm down.” He said sharply, shooting Jake a stern look.

Alina squeezed his leg. “Jake, please. It’s okay.”

“No, it fucking isn’t.” He huffed under his breath but fell quiet as they were asked more questions. They recounted the night, explaining that they’d been asleep when Mikhail had showed up screaming then all that had happened to get to this point.

Jake chanced a glance behind him to see two of the officers hauling Mikhail out of the apartment. He sighed slightly, pulling Alina in tighter to him. After another ten minutes of answering questions, the officer finally seemed satisfied and offered a card to Alina.

“This is where we’ll be holding him and that’s where you can get a copy of the report. Recommend you call your lawyer in the morning, he’ll know what to do next.” He looked awkward, unsure of how to deal with a girl that was so clearly emotionally drained and then slid his gaze to Jake. “Listen – we, uh, we don’t have to put your name in the report or anything.”

Surprised, Jake looked at him. “That – that doesn’t seem right. I broke his nose.”

“We can work around that, son. The guy is gonna go to jail regardless, your girl has like seven police reports filed against him so it shouldn’t be a hard decision for the judge.”

The fact that Alina had filed so many reports hit him like a truck. It had clearly been far worse than he’d even realized. In a daze, knowing the cop was giving him an out because of who he was, he looked down at Alina.

“He’s right, Jake – this can fuck things up for you.” She said softly, her gray eyes pleading with him to think about himself.

It didn’t feel right. He was worried if there was anything that wasn’t right in that report, Mikhail would be able to work around it and get back at Alina.

So he shook his head no. “Just – write it as it happened, sir. I’ll sign it or whatever but it should be right.”

Sighing, Sergeant McDonald flipped his notebook closed. “Okay…we’ll do our best to keep it quiet though. And uh, good luck – you’re playing like a beast.”

He gave him a tight smile. The fact that they were talking about his play when a guy had just violently gone after his girlfriend didn’t exactly sit right with him.

But he walked him to the door, saying goodbye to the other cop who was lingering as well, staring curiously at Alina. This had been a nightmare of a night and there was still blood all over the floor. As he shut the door behind them, he leaned against it, tapping his head lightly against the surface.

He squeezed his eyes tightly before turning to face Alina. Her face was pale, quiet tears streaming down her cheeks. He rushed towards her, dragging her into his arms and holding her as she cried.

What a fucking night.

It was almost five in the morning. He had practice in a few hours and he knew he’d need to go in early to let management know about what had happened but right now all he could think about was holding Alina.

He rubbed her back gently, tilting her face up to his. “Baby, let’s go to my place – we can lay down for a bit longer.”

She sniffled, wiping her nose with his sleeve. “This is humiliating. I’m sorry, Jakey. Maybe you should just go – ”

“Stop apologizing. And there’s no way I’m going to leave you. I told you earlier I wasn’t going to give up on you. On us.”

“You called me your girlfriend.” She said softly, hands gripping his waist tightly.

He smiled down at her, “That’s because you are. At least, I want you to be.”

“So much for slow.” She managed to tease through a watery smile. “I like it. I like you.”

“Then come on, girlfriend. Let’s go home.”

Trying to ignore the blood on the floor, he told her he’d call someone to clean it tomorrow when she tried to pause to take care of it. He kept a tight hold on her hand as they walked the length of the hall to get to his apartment. It was quiet and peaceful in his place compared to what they’d just walked out of. He didn’t want to push her but he had more questions than answers at this point. There wasn’t anything she could do that would make him not want to be with her; that didn’t mean she could cut him out and not tell him things.

Alina went straight into his bedroom, pulling him along by his hand. She slid out of her yoga pants but kept his shirt on as she crawled into his bed. He pulled his sweatshirt off then slid in next to her, wrapping around her body.

“Can we talk, Leenie?” he whispered in her ear. “I need you to talk to me.”

She inhaled sharply, sniffling as she did and he felt her shake slightly. He wasn’t sure she’d share but then she started to speak softly. “We – we started dating when I was fifteen. My uh – my parents died when I was ten. That’s why I moved to the States. To be with my Dedushka. He lived in this neighborhood in Brooklyn that was mostly Russian and I met Mikhail there. It just – it was easy to talk to him, he knew what it was like. Leaving home and being in a place where people glared if you fucked up your English.”

Jake felt his heart pounding as she shook slightly in his arms. She pushed back into him to try to get closer and he just hugged her tightly, pressing a kiss to her head as she continued.

“I’d spent five years barely talking to anyone. Too scared to speak until my English was perfect. Then Mikhail showed up. He was always with his dad when they came to my Dedushka’s restaurant. He made me remember where I’d come from. His parents were from the same city I’d grown up in. He was familiar in the most comforting way.”

She paused, trying to catch her breath. Jake ran his fingers down her arm so he could lace their fingers together.

“He wasn’t always so terrible. My Deduskha would’ve kill him, that’s for sure.” She gave a watery little chuckle before continuing. “But then…” she paused and Jake could hear her sniffling again, a little whimper slipping from her lips.

“Baby, come’re.” he whispered against her head, loosening his grip so he could turn him towards him. Her eyes were filled with tears and he used his thumbs to wipe them away. “I’m sorry, if it’s too much – we can talk la – ”

“No,” she said sharper than he expected before her features softened. “I – I know I haven’t shared a lot with you. And you deserve to hear this after tonight.”

He leaned forward to kiss her gently, nudging his nose against hers until she smiled. It was harder for her now, facing him as she spoke. She stayed quiet for a long moment before finally staring up at him and continuing.

“My Dedushka died when I was nineteen. And then it was just me.” She whispered.

Jake swallowed hard. No wonder she never talked about family: she didn’t have any. He rubbed her back lightly as she tried to swallow back her tears.

“He was all I really had left. I’ve never made friends very easily and my whole life was in that little neighborhood in Brooklyn. But…well you saw him. The older he got, the more controlling. He expected us to get married and me to be his little wife and have babies but I didn’t want that.

“I wanted to be a nurse. I wanted to see what else was out there beyond the little corner I knew. We made a deal that we would go to Boston for a couple years and if he did that for me, I’d marry him.”

Her voice was so soft, he barely heard her but the words hit him like a truck. The idea that he would’ve never had this made him sick. But he stayed quiet, rubbing her back gently as she talked.

“He got a job in Boston easily with this international accounting firm, managing the Russian relationships. He settled in better than I did – going out with the guys he worked with constantly. I was studying and working so much, exhausted all the time but I noticed how bad his drinking got. He’d come home sometimes just…so fucking angry for no reason. He didn’t get rough until a year or so ago. But it was a pattern I’d seen from Mikhail’s own father. His mama was so…broken. I started to see that becoming my future.

“It just kept getting worse. The cheating. Yelling. The hitting. But then I met you.” She smiled slightly, looking up at him and pressing a quick kiss to his jaw. “And you just…were this light, funny, perfect guy. Who was soft and gentle with me and I started to fall for you but I didn’t know how to get away from Mikhail.”

“I wish I’d – I…” he struggled for the words, feeling lost and a little blindsided. “I didn’t know how to help you.”

“Jake, you did help me.” She swore, brushing his hair back off his forehead. “You couldn’t fix everything, I needed to fix a lot of it myself first. And I made mistakes by letting Mikhail back in so many times but he was my past – the closest thing I had to family and that was hard to let go.”

“Tell me about the restraining order.” He asked softly, bracing himself for how hard it would be to hear what she had to say.

“I did the right thing – the thing you’re supposed to which is report the abuse. So I started to. He was…it was usually the worst when you were out of town. It’s like he waited until you were gone then he’d come over raging like you just saw. I almost got evicted over the summer from the number of times they had to call the cops but the management company was surprisingly good about it.”

“Jesus, Leen – why didn’t you tell me?” Jake asked, trying not to get upset.

Her eyes filled with tears again. “It’s humiliating. All the neighbors hearing him scream at me and throw things then the cops showing up at all hours. I didn’t want you to know that about me.”

“I would’ve come back. I would’ve helped.” He drew her in closer, squeezing her against his chest.

“I know you would’ve, but you deserved your summer. Deserved time with your family and friends.” Her voice was muffled into his chest and she was crying softly again.

“Hey now,” he whispered, grasping her chin to turn her face up to his. “No more crying. Let’s get some sleep, you’re exhausted. This is still the best night of my life.”

That earned him another little laugh as she angled up to kiss him softly. “You haven’t had a very good life then, babe.”

He scoffed. “I’m in the NHL. Very important and cool and do a lot of things. You’re still the best thing I’ve ever done.” He pressed kisses along her face as she giggled and swatted him away.

“Oh, so now I’m just something you’ve done?” she raised an eyebrow at him and he groaned, flopping his head back on the pillow. She kept a smile on her face as she rolled on top of him, straddling his waist.

He caught her hips to keep her steady, rubbing his thumb along her skin. “This is a nice view.”

Leaning back, she grabbed for his right hand. “You okay?” She pressed a kiss to each knuckle, frowning at how red they were before focusing on his face. Gently, she brushed her fingers along his tender cheek. “Do you need ice? I think this is gonna be a black eye.”

“I’m fine. Come’re,” he urged and pulled her down to him so he could thread his hands through her hair to pull her down to his lips. “Want a kiss. Then it’s bedtime.”

“Shit – what time do you have practice?”

“Eleven. I’m gonna go around ten though. I need to talk to Bergy and figure out who to talk to on the team.”

Alina frowned. “I told you I was a train wreck. It’s not too late to – ”

Jake cut her off, leaning forward to kiss her before pulling back. “Leen, I mean this is the nicest way possible – shut up. You’re my girl.”

“Thank you, Jakey.” She whispered, sliding off him and nestling back into his side.

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Go to sleep, I’ll wake you up before I go.”

She mumbled something in Russian, pressing her lips to his chest and then she was out like a light. He lay awake for a while after she’d fallen asleep, holding her against him and thinking about the night. Everything she’d told him about her life made things so much clearer: the way she was so strong and stubborn yet had continually gone back to an abusive boyfriend, how she never talked about her past or her family. He wished she’d told him sooner but he knew he couldn’t have dragged this out of her until she was ready.

The sun was just starting to peak through the windows when he finally dropped off to sleep, dreading what waited for him at practice later but still happier than he’d been in a long time.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

For the “everyone who died is able to wake up” sdra2 au, could you do headcanons of the characters who died reuniting with their s/o who made it to the end? If all the dead characters is too much, you can choose who to do, but if you decide to do Shinji, since he has teenage children, maybe you could include them being there too?

I can do all of them! I think the Void members are the same age outside the simulation so I’ll just leave them at that.

Obvious major spoilers! This took forever to write whew

.........

Yuri

Realizing that you saw each other as high schoolers was quite strange. But now you remembered why Yuri became so attached to you the moment you met on the island.

Everyone who woke up was shook upon seeing how tall and muscular he actually was. But you were just happy to see your boyfriend alive and well.

You tell him everything that’s happened, and he’s understandably bitter about Hajime killing him (you had to distract him with a kiss so he didn’t actually punch him).

In time he decides to forgive the boxer...but only because you asked him to.

He feels guilty about letting Monocrow be used for the killing game. So to ensure his work didn’t hurt anyone else, he destroyed all the data and blueprints associated with the bird.

The simulation reminded you of how short he was back then--and you’d tease him about it often (much to his embarrassment).

Hajime

Wakes up disoriented and confused, until he realizes he’s alive and back in the real world. Though he’s got a bit of a headache.

Then he sees you and smiles. “Were you waiting long?”

“Almost too long, you dumbass.” You just hug him tightly, grateful that his brain wasn’t fried to mush like you feared.

He has genuine regrets about siding with Mikado and offers to let you punch him if you wanted to. But you only give him a kiss and reassure him that’s all in the past.

Despite everything, he manages to joke about being turned into a doll, claiming it could be good merchandise to sell in the future. Though for now you both just wanna go home and recuperate from what happened.

Yep, he’s still got his healthy habits so he’ll be sure to take care of himself (and you, of course, since your mental health is just as important as your physical health).

Kokoro

Has the most nonchalant reaction. 

She feels unusually cold, but quickly claims it’s just an “after-effect” of the death she experienced in the program.

If anyone else was her s/o, they would’ve been angry and confused at her neutral reaction. But you’ve known her long enough to know she’s like this all the time. 

So you just smile and welcome her back, telling her you survived--like her younger self anticipated.

With both versions of Mikado gone, she isn’t exactly sure where to go with her research from here. But you convinced her to take a long break from her work.

She thought you’d be angry or at least disappointed that she contributed to the simulation’s creation, but you aren’t.

You didn’t have the heart to hate her, even though before that you resented her for using her daughter for human experiments.

Emma

Surprisingly calm...at first. She just acts like she woke up from a nap, relieved “this bad dream” was finally over.

But then she sees her hands--realizing she’s whole again and not some disgusting mess of flesh trapped in limbo--as you hold them and smile softly at her. “Welcome back to the land of the living, darling.”

Everything hits her all at once, and before you knew it, she was hugging you tightly and sobbing into your chest as she apologized for everything she did. 

She was scared she’d never see you again, worrying if you’d survive to the end (imagine her relief when you did).

You spend a bit of time comforting her, rubbing her back and reassuring her she was finally free of Mikado’s influence.

You’re close to tears yourself--seeing her slaughtered by horror movie monsters was a grim execution you wouldn’t forget easily. 

And after coming home that’s one movie genre you both avoid for a while.

Setsuka

She wakes up feeling disappointed and some back/joint pain that she didn’t see through her mission till the end, but she’s happy to be back with you.

You practically throw yourself into her arms, relieved she was whole again and not just limbs scattered across a haunted house attraction.

If you decide to tell her about the circumstances regarding her death, she might be quite unnerved, at first, though she doesn’t resent Hibiki once you mention how she was basically a puppet during that time.

Her quick forgiveness would’ve been surprising, but you only expected that from her and just smile, giving her a kiss.

“You’re taking a few days off of work. I don’t care what Tsurugi says--you need it.”

“Alright, alright..fair enough...by the way, I’m still as cute as I was back then, right?” She chuckles.

Yep, that’s your sweetheart of a former billiards player alright.

Hibiki/Kanade

(I hc that Kanade’s serial killer backstory was all fabricated, and her obsession over Hibiki isn’t as extreme irl, but she still has some overprotectiveness).

When the twins wake up at the same time, they...honestly aren’t sure what to say to you--or each other for that matter.

Kanade was staring off into space, fully aware of the horrible things she said and did. Meanwhile Hibiki looked ready to yell at her as soon as she spoke. And you were just watching them nervously.

But then you’re surprised when the younger sister reaches over to hug you, starting to cry and apologize for everything. She could never see herself doing any of those things in real life...but she doesn’t expect any forgiveness right away.

To her shock, you forgave her--knowing that the Kanade in that simulation wasn’t your sweet and shy sweetheart. The real one you’ve known since forever was right here, feeling truly remorseful for things she never did.

It’s not long before Hibiki burst into tears too and oops now both of them are crying into your arms. 

But you didn’t care. What mattered was that the nightmare was finally over.

Shinji

Your teenage kids were brought to the location of the pods by the KF (as other living relatives of the kidnapped participants were), and they anxiously waited for you and Shinji to awaken.

The relief and joy you felt upon seeing their smiling, tearful faces was immensurable as they practically tackle-hugged you. But when they ask about their father, you decide they’re mature enough to know what happened--and so you explain that he made a sacrifice to protect everyone, including you.

They promise to wait for him, as they did for you...and man is that wait worth it when he awakens to see his beloved family.

It’s a very, very tearful reunion, but it was especially overwhelming for you, considering you still have the image of your husband’s burnt corpse fresh in your mind.

Shinji’s optimism never wavers, even after everything. He points out that the way you two have interacted in the simulation was similar to how you both met in real life during high school (minus the killings, of course).

You regrettably tell him what became of Yuki, but he just hopes the kid’s doing alright, wherever he may be.

Nikei

The moment he wakes up, he takes a few seconds to register three things: he’s alive, you’re alive, and his right hand is back. 

But before you can ask him how he’s feeling, a billion and one questions fly out of his mouth.

“Is it all over?? Is Mikado gone?!! What about Utsuro--??"

You do your best to calm him down and catch him up to speed, reassuring him Mikado is gone and won’t hurt him ever again.

Though now that he sees everyone alive and well--including Shinji and Void--he feels tense and awkward, wondering what the future holds now. But you take his right hand to divert his attention back to you.

He gets pretty choked up, realizing that he’s finally free and isn’t doomed forever and can actually go home with you. You just smile and hug him, repeating those reassurances.

Considering his breakdown in the trial where he got executed, you decide you’ll have a long chat about his insecurities when you two get home--with him being the interviewee.

Teruya

Rei and Tsurugi are with you when Teruya finally awakens. Though before he can even properly get out of the pod, you throw your arms around him and he doesn’t hesitate to embrace you back.

He’s already in tears himself, relieved when you tell him you survived.

“That’s good..I’m..I-I’m glad you made it out.”

“I would’ve liked to make it out with you, too, idiot.” You huff, remembering how he refused the antidote you tried giving him for the poison. 

He told you why he needed to die so you could escape with everyone. And it hurt him a lot to do that, but you forgive him..though only if he promises to never make a stupid sacrifice like that again.

You decide to leave out how you almost got executed by an incorrect vote. For a while you thought you could never avenge your boyfriend, but with Mikado finally gone..you were now satisfied.

He’ll need a few days off of work after what he’s been through. You already chewed out Tsurugi for calling Teruya a “diversion”, so he begrudgingly allows it.

[beauregardlionett]

littered kisses

AO3 Link

The soft puffs of breath against Yasha’s clavicle were the first thing to register upon waking. She hummed low and soft at the sensation, eyes fluttering open where she was wrapped around Beau and cocooned in blankets. Golden, late morning light spilled in through the window by their bed, sun motes drifting in lazy spirals through the sunbeams as Yasha’s consciousness slowly filtered into further wakefulness. Beau had one leg thrown over Yasha’s hips, so the taller woman was careful about stretching her legs long. She grunted with the satisfying pull in her muscles that only came after a restful night, ankles and knees cracking.

Beau huffed against Yasha’s skin with the light jostling and shifted closer, nose bumping against Yasha’s chest. Smiling small and fond down at the woman in her arms, Yasha leaned back just enough to admire Beau without completely dislodging her sleepy clinging.

The monk’s hair was still tied up, but rumpled and loose, messy from being pressed into a pillow all night. Her features were smooth in her peace, making Beau look soft as grey shadows slanted gently against the sunlight on Beau’s olive skin. Yasha could just see the curling jade edges of filigree from Beau’s tattoo that peaked around the back of her neck. Unable to help herself, she reached out to trace reverent fingers over the sparkling pattern. Touch trailing up into the tight shave of Beau’s undercut, Yasha’s lips quirked with a grin when Beau twitched in her sleep and grunted as she woke up.

Yasha continued her gentle ministration, brushing her fingertips over the fuzz of hair near the base of Beau’s neck. She watched as the woman’s eyes fluttered open, those stunning, bright blues—blurry with sleep—locking onto Yasha almost immediately. The simple action sent a jolt of adoration through the Aasimar’s chest, her ribs seeming too tight for her heart.

“Mornin’,” Beau said, voice rough with her half conscious state. It felt like a gift to witness her like this, because Beau was always awake with the dawn. Before any of the rest of them even thought of waking up, Beau was up and about long before the colors of sunrise had even faded from the sky. Yasha was never the first one to wake up between them, so she took this gentle moment and tucked it carefully among her memories.

“Good morning,” Yasha murmured, hand coming around to cup at Beau’s cheek that wasn’t smushed against Yasha’s arm.

“What time’s it?” Beau mumbled, even as she leaned into Yasha’s touch and seemed ready to fall back to sleep.

“I’m not sure,” Yasha whispered, fighting a smile as Beau yawned and tucked closer to the Aasimar. “I haven’t been up long.”

“Don’t wanna get up yet,” Beau groused, as if Yasha were trying to pull the monk from bed. On the contrary, Yasha felt perfectly content to stay tucked up like this with Beau for as long as she might get away with it. At some point she expected the rest of their party to come knocking, eager to go about the day and move on to wherever their feet carried them next. They hadn’t had a period of aimless wandering without a goal for a while now; so they were happily taking advantage of the lack of expectation weighed upon them for the moment. Perhaps everyone slept in this morning, because they had been out late last night drinking and reminiscing and relaxing for the first time in months.

Yasha stroked an absent thumb over Beau’s cheekbone and felt finally settled. It was a strange sensation. For so many years there had been this restless itch beneath her skin, like a storm on the verge of breaking, like humidity climbing without relief. Before the Mighty Nein, before Beau, Yasha had been a storm on the cusp of breaking, with no relief in sight—stuck in a limbo of longing and grief. But now the jagged pieces of herself felt washed smooth, and she wasn’t a storm, but a gentle rain.

She felt finally herself.

Overwhelmed with affection, Yasha carefully pushed Beau away from her, rolling the half asleep monk onto her back so that Yasha could lean over her. Beau blinked up at her with sleepy confusion, mouth halfway open to likely voice either a protest or a concerned question, but Yasha acted first. Leaning down, braids and dreads cascading over one shoulder and tickling at Beau’s skin, the Aasimar pressed a careful kiss to the tip of Beau’s nose, fighting a smile as she did. As she pulled back just enough to look at Beau without going cross-eyed, she couldn’t help but give a soft laugh at the startled look on Beau’s face.

“What was that for?” Beau asked, sounding breathless.

“Because,” Yasha murmured even as she leaned down to press another kiss to Beau’s cheek. “I care for you.” Yasha passed the words between the first kiss to Beau’s cheek and another to the opposite. She didn’t have the words to explain everything she was feeling. She wouldn’t even try, honestly, because she was not eloquent at the best of times—and she would just end up a flushed and stuttering mess, anyway. She was always better at doing than explaining. So she shifted her weight to lean a little more comfortably over Beau and continued to pepper adoring kisses across Beau’s face.

She repeated the kiss to the tip of Beau’s nose, then trailed up to her forehead, gentle fingers brushing aside loose strands of hair. Moving to Beau’s temple, her lips lingered long enough to press a kiss there with a brief smile. Continuing her path, Yasha’s lips dragged down the line of Beau’s jaw. These kisses were just a touch more open-mouthed than before as Beau tipped her head back with a soft noise of appreciation. Yasha smiled against the curve of Beau’s chin and pressed several kisses to the underside of the woman’s jaw. Detouring down the captivating planes of warm skin that was Beau’s neck, Yasha nipped at Beau’s clavicle before making her way back up. Yasha fluttered kisses all over Beau’s jawline and cheeks, pulling sleepy laughter from her victim before Beau lost the battle with her impatience and tugged Yasha down.

Beau initiated the press of their lips, but Yasha set the pace. Littering a worship of brief kisses to Beau’s mouth, Yasha indulged them both with a deep, lasting embrace after a few moments.

They were both just shy of breathless when they finally broke apart, barely any space between their kiss-sore lips as Yasha pressed their foreheads together. She stared down at Beau with a quiet peace lining her expression. Beau was looking up at Yasha from where she was pressed into the mattress with smitten awe. Her fingers were tangled and clutching at Yasha’s baggy undershirt, almost like she was afraid letting go would mean Yasha might disappear. Or like she was on the verge of pulling Yasha into another kiss.

“I care about you, too,” Beau whispered, sounding even more winded than before. “Like, a lot.”

Yasha laughed, bright and quick, as her eyes crinkled with fondness. She swooped in to dot a few more kisses over Beau’s cheeks before laying down at her side again, smiling as Beau rolled to tuck herself into Yasha’s chest.

“That was great,” Beau murmured, trailing her lips lazily against Yasha’s collarbone. “I vote we stay in bed for a while.”

“I’m perfectly fine with that,” Yasha agreed without hesitation. She wrapped her arms snugly around Beau’s wiry frame, relishing the way Beau fit against her. They watched the morning grow old together, bundled in blankets and perfectly content to do nothing else.

[kazledazzel]

“Are you ready?” - Kitty (ask from @lucian-evander)

It was Rafael Lightwood Bane’s birthday, and Ty couldn’t understand why he was so nervous. He had done all he could to prepare. He had double checked everything. Nothing could have gone wrong. Tavvy, who was now nine years old and apparently responsible, had been given the task of making sure they remembered the present and card. Dru had written the card, making sure to include all their names (Ty, Dru and Tavvy) and had wrapped the present with coloured wrapping paper. Jules and Emma would be bringing a separate present, as would Helen, Aline, and baby Andrea. Ty was dressed in what seemed to be a suitable outfit; not too casual but no more formal than needed for a seven year olds birthday. Still, the root of his nerves was not something that could be fixed with good preparation. It still didn’t change the fact that he would be there.

Christopher Herondale would always be Kit to Ty Blackthorn. The two had built an unlikely friendship years ago, and for the first time since Ty had tried to raise Livvy and Kit had disappeared to England. The time in between had been like a limbo of going from weeks of not talking to long detailed letters. It took months for them to even send a postcard. It wasn't until Livvy had insisted Ty write Kit that they'd had any form of communication. At the time, Tiberius hadn't even know what he'd say to Kit. "Hello, I know we haven't spoken since I attempted necromancy and you confessed your love for me, but how's England? What's the weather like? Oh, by the way, I think I might love you back, but how are your parents?"

"It will be fine, Ty-Ty," Livvy said reassuringly as the Blackthorns recovered from the rush that came with portal travel and walked up the steps to Magnus and Alec’s loft. Even as a ghost, she could read Ty’s emotions without failure. She walked alongside Ty, though he was the only one that could see her. She seemed to float beside him, looking eerily beautiful in her white dress. She still looked fifteen, though if she hadn’t died she’d be seventeen. Ty would have been taller than her, except ghost Livvy found it funny to float just a few inches taller than him.

Ty didn’t reply to Livvy. The rest of his family couldn’t see her, and he wasn’t in the mood to alarm them. Tavvy skipped up the steps happily between Emma and Julian, looking smug with the present in his hands. Dru held back a little to stay beside Ty. Helen and Aline were still downstairs and in the process of calming their baby girl. Andrea, at nine months old, was not a fan of portal travel.

Magnus opened the door before the family even knocked. He beamed at them, playing the role of the party host very well. Ty hadn’t been surprised to hear that Magnus was throwing a birthday extravaganza for his seven year old. He had once heard a story of Magnus throwing a party for his cat, so one hoped that he loved his son as much.

It seemed he did, because as soon as he greeted the family he turned so that Ty could see the inside of the apartment. It looked as though a toy store had exploded inside of Magnus’ apartment. The ceiling had been magically raised so that a trampoline could fit inside, and Ty could have sworn he saw Isabelle Lightwood helping Max Lightwood Bane onto a pony.

Emma made a beeline for Jem and Mina while Tavvy raced to find the birthday boy.

“Don’t eat all of the chocolate or you’ll be sick!” Julian called, but Ty wasn’t sure if his call was directed at Emma or Tavvy. Dru entered the party and immediately found Kieran and Mark. Ty held back and Julian, being Julian, noticed.

“It’s okay, Ty,” Julian murmured so that none of the party guests would hear. Ty had told Julian about Kit eventually, and Jules had been more understanding that Ty had ever thought. Who knew Julian knew anything about love? “If it makes you feel any better, you don’t have to talk to him. I’m sure he’ll manage to keep occupied,”

“No, it’s okay,” Ty replied, shaking his head. He wanted to talk to Kit, no matter how much it scared him. He needed to talk to him after so long. He needed to know that there was still hope for them to have some sort of relationship, have it be romantic or simply as penpals. He just knew that his life was better with Kit in it. “I want to talk to him,”

Julian smiled. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,”

They entered the party.

It wasn’t like in the mundane movies, when the whole world seemed to go into slow-motion as the two love interests re-united after so long apart. In fact, it took Ty a minute or so to even spot Kit in the crowd of people. When he did, Kit wasn’t even looking at him.

Ty spotted him, standing by the snacks table and talking to Jace. Ty’s mouth went try, and for a moment Ty couldn’t remember a single word in the English language. Kit was laughing, his blue eyes like the pacific ocean. His hair was gold and he had somehow maintained a tan despite living in England. To Ty’s surprise, he was nearly as tall as Jace. He had gotten more muscular too, and there were marks on his arms.

Huh, Ty thought. So Watson decided to become a shadowhunter afterall.

Then they made eye contact, and Ty was pretty sure fireworks went off from inside him.

Jace was looking in between the two. He glanced at Kit, then at Ty, then back and forth a few times as if he were double checking what he was seeing. Then he smirked, whispered soemthing to Kit, and left to talk to his Parabatai. Kit was blushing.

Ty took a deep breath. He was going to be the one to make the first move. He walked over to Kit, overthinking every step, and stopped in front of him.

“Hi,” Ty said, trying to keep his voice from jumping up an octave. That was always a good place to start. Kit was looking at him as if his hair was on fire. Ty wondered if he’d ever say hello back.

“Hey,” Kit replied, and his obvious attempt to be cool could have made Ty laugh. It didn’t help that Livvy was floating behind Kit, giving Ty a grin and a thumbs up.

“Look Ty, I-,”

“You don’t have to apologise, Watson,” Ty interrupted. Then he realised he’d slipped up. He quickly worried that Kit wouldn’t appreciate Ty using his old nickname, or if he’d even remember their inside jokes. Then Kit gave a smile. It was a little weary and a slightly confused smile, but it was still a smile that gave Ty butterflies not in his hands but in his heart.

“I think I need to,” Kit said softly. Ty wasn’t the biggest lover of physical affection, but at that moment he would have loved to have reached out to Kit and put his arms around him. Out of respect for Kit’s comfort and personal space, he controlled himself and stayed put.

“No, Kit, really,” Ty insisted. “I get why you left. Everything with Livvy, and- I think I understand now,”

“That’s not what I need to apologise for,” Kit continued. Ty frowned a little. From behind Kit, Livvy was doing a poor job at pretending she wasn’t listening. “I- I said that I wished I’d never known you. That’s not true-,”

“Kit honestly it’s fine-,”

“No Ty, it’s not,” Kit’s voice was low. It was lower in a serious way, making Ty a little nervous. “Knowing you... I’m glad I know you, Tiberius Blackthorn,”

“Kit..,” Ty started, but the words died in his mouth. The he heard Magnus start to call everyone to gather around for the cake, and he panicked, worrying his chance to talk to Kit would be gone. Kit started to turn away.

Screw it, Ty thought. He took Kit’s wrist and turned him back around. No one would be watching; they would all be too distracted with singing happy birthday to Rafe.

Kit turned around and he and Ty collided. Ty had pulled him back around with the intention of speaking to him, but this was okay too.

There was only an inch or so height difference between them, and Ty was now discovering that this was the perfect height for kissing. They seemed to fit with each other in a way Ty didn’t know possible. He had seen how Helen and Aline were with each other, and Emma and Julian. He saw how in love they were and how the seemed so smitten for one another. He had wondered what that had felt like. He never imagined wanting to kiss someone. It had never been an urge. Not until now.

Luckily, Kit didn’t pull away. He kissed back with just as much power, making Ty shiver. What could have been a millisecond or a decade later, they pulled apart. Kit’s lips were as red as his cheeks.

“Ty-,”

“Does this mean we can still talk?” Ty blurted out, so quickly he was surprised that Kit understood. “I don’t ever want to not be talking again,”

Kit made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a breathe of relief.

“Oh, Sherlock,” he said, smirking like a true Herondale. “We are never not talking again,”

[drabbledragon]

Linktober: Dark

Next up is day 10: Dark! I just wanted to thank you all for the likes, reblogs, and follows, and that I wish you all a very happy new year! 

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26749021/chapters/69732201

Summary: There are circumstances that may lead one to take certain risks, and sometimes those risks lead to disaster.

Warnings: (Temporary) character death, mentions of violence, mentions of alcohol, and swearing.

Day 10: Dark

Wherever Time was, it was dark. There was not a single ounce of light here, and no matter where he looked or where he took a step forward, he was always met with pitch black. The darkness was suffocating, and he could feel his breath start to pick up once his hazy mind realised that there was no exit, that there was nothing to see, that there was no one else here to help him, and soon the whole room was starting to feel like it was closing in on him even though there were no walls and he suddenly couldn’t tell left from right or up from down or whether he was sitting or standing or lying down - it was all just dark, and it was slowly eating away at his sanity.

“You … out … right now …”

His breath caught in his throat. That fiery tone, that sweet, beautiful voice … that was … Malon, right?

Yes, of course. How could he forget the love of his life? The one he decided to settle down with on a small, peaceful ranch in the middle of Hyrule Field? The one who sang along with him whenever he played his ocarina and the one who watched beautiful sunsets with him as the last minutes of the day started to fade away? She was a constant soothing presence in his life, and he would never forgive himself if he ever forgot about Malon.

He stood still, hoping that in some way, listening to his wife’s voice could somehow lead him out of the darkness. It was strange that Malon’s voice was echoing from everywhere and nowhere at the same time, and whatever she was saying was so choppy and fragmented that Time could barely make out the syllables of each word, but her voice was like a lifeline to him, and he was willing to try and latch onto it no matter how distant it was.

“What makes you believe that I should? I have not finished killing all the enemies here, nor have I finished correcting the mistakes in this timeline.”

This voice was deeper, colder, and more unforgiving than Malon’s, and each word rang out unnervingly clear in Time’s mind. The being’s tone was indifferent towards the words it was saying, as if the very notion of killing monsters and fixing mistakes in a timeline was just another mundane task that anyone could do. Time would’ve chuckled if the situation wasn’t all so disorientating. As if fixing something so complicated as a timeline was simple, he should know; he’s been struggling with trying to correct his mistakes for years now, and all his attempts have either led to the eventual destruction of Hyrule or to the creation of more timelines, which would only make his hair turn greyer from the added stress. Honestly, at this point, he was sure that only Hylia herself or some other god could fix this.

Wait. Another god. 

Another god.

His heart was suddenly racing, the thumping in his chest and the rush of blood in his ears getting overwhelmingly loud. Had he really put on the Fierce Deity mask and become that soulless, heartless god? What were even the circumstances that led him to do that? He swore that he would only use that thing if the situation at hand was nearly hopeless - if his or his loved ones’ lives were practically hanging by a thin thread - but surely it hadn’t come to that, had it?

Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t really remember what had happened. The latest memory he had at the moment was having to buy a new shield for Wild because he broke it while shield - surfing, but that was nearly a day ago - or was it just a few hours ago? Or a couple of minutes ago? Or maybe weeks ago? For someone renowned as the ‘Hero of Time’, his namesake was definitely failing him.

How long had it been since he had given the Fierce Deity control over his body? How long had it been since he last saw light? How long had it been since he’d last seen Malon, or any of the other heroes for that matter? Where were the other heroes? Where was he? 

“He … kill me … let … go.”

He lifted his head up at a dizzying speed and his eye widened with fear. No, what was Malon talking about? Why was she suddenly talking about ‘killing’ of all things? She knew so much about the Fierce Deity mask and its bloodlust so why in the world was she tempting that thing?

He sucked in a sharp breath. 

He needs out. He needs out right now.

“Let me out!” Time yelled out to no one, but even if it seemed as such, he knew that the deity could hear him. “ Let me out right now!”

“Link … enough … let … go.”

“I know you can hear me! Let me out right now!”

“... Dead … stop … enough.”

“I will burn you to ashes if you lay a single finger on Malon! You hear me?! I’ll kill you!”

Together, he and Malon pleaded from two different sides, the latter’s coming out in careful demands and the former’s coming out in harsh screams. It was impossible to know what was going on outside, and it made Time feel all the more fearful because he didn’t know if he was off simply killing a few Moblins and Lizalfos, or was about to stab a sword through his wife’s chest. He needs to know what was going on. He needs out.

After what felt like an eternity, he felt the floor tilt from beneath him when the Fierce Deity finally nodded and said, “ Very well.” Time’s world was suddenly flooded with light.

His body was already pitching forward before his mind could even register it, and the feel of strong arms coming to wrap around his chest was barely felt through the numbness in his body. His head lolled wearily onto the person’s shoulder, and he didn’t even bother to move the locks of hair that pressed haphazardly against his face. His whole being was sagging with both fatigue and relief, and when he was finally able to make out the white dress underneath his chin and the sight of ginger locks, he used all his remaining strength to lock Malon into a tight hug.

“Link!” She shouted in surprise, but he only squeezed harder, refusing to let her go as if she would disappear without his hold. He buried his head further into her neck and breathed in the familiar scent of hay and home - cooked meals, slowly easing his shoulders when his mind finally registered that he was free from the deity’s hold, he was able to use his own body again, and that he was back home, safe and sound. He pulled away for a second, ready to scold his wife for even attempting to do something so reckless as standing up to a god, but froze when he saw the state of Hyrule Field.

The field - his home -  was littered with bodies: those of monsters, humans, and Hylians all strewn about like tossed ragdolls. Blood coated the ground in dark, messy paint splatters on a grassy canvas, and the weapons and armor of the multitude of soldiers that came here were all broken into pieces, destroyed with clean and powerful slices. The whole place reeked of death, and it was nothing like the beautiful plains he was used to seeing.

What had the Fierce Deity done?

He didn’t even realise he was staggering until he felt his wife’s arms around him again.

“Link!” A frantic voice called out, and Time was barely able to recognize it as Malon’s. “ It’s going to be alright!”

He would’ve laughed if his throat wasn’t so tight. ‘Alright’? ‘Alright’? There was nothing that could be ‘alright’ about this situation; the Fierce Deity had killed innocent people - he had killed innocent people - and there was no magical way to grab all their souls and force them back into their respective bodies. They were dead, plain and simple.

His wife was leading him towards their home with one of his arms wrapped firmly across her shoulders and another arm delicately pressing his side to hers. Time could barely keep his heavy steps in time with Malon’s strides, and the right side of his face burned hotter than the flames on Volvagia’s back, but he tried to focus all of his attention on the determination etched onto Malon’s face, hoping vainly that he could draw some sort of hope from that.

His wife was settling him on their shared bed before he was even able to register it, and the soft plush of quilts and blankets did nothing to quell the massive pit in his stomach. Neither the sting of alcohol on his skin as his wounds were cleaned nor Malon’s gentle reassurances did nothing to bring him out of his shock; his mind was still lost in Hyrule Field, looking upon the corpses that littered the green like blooming weeds.

He wondered how long he had been gone for. Minutes? Hours? It could’ve very well been days if he was being completely honest. From the time he put on the mask to the time the Fierce Deity took it off, the Hero of Time was stuck in a dark limbo, where neither his senses nor time itself existed. He surmised that the only reason he was even able to rouse was because of Malon’s voice piercing through the darkness like an arrow to the heart, and he used that opportunity to frantically regain control of his body; otherwise, if he just let that chance flitter away, then he was sure the deity would just kill her along with everyone else.

He startled when a light touch settled on his shoulder, and his eye fell onto an anxious redhead.

“Malon?” His voice trembled like that of a fearful child, and the ranchhand smiled sadly at him.

“That’s right, Fairy Boy. I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to the market to fetch some more supplies. I’ll be back in ten minutes, so don’t even think about moving, alright?”

With a tight nod, he watched her move towards the door leading to the hallway, but after a sudden thought came to mind, he quickly blurted out, “ The boys?”

He held his breath as his wife paused in the doorway, and he felt each second tick by excruciatingly slow. Finally, after what felt like years of waiting, she finally turned back and quietly said, “ It’ll be alright.”

The Hero of Time’s stomach dropped. The forced smile on his wife’s lips, the way she dug her nails into the wooden doorframe, the reassuring words she uttered trying to get him to relax even though his subconscious was telling him that he shouldn’t get such a luxury - he should’ve known that something was wrong. Something worse had happened while the Fierce Deity had possessed him, and the little child within him was too scared to find out.

The time between Malon coming home and tending to his remaining injuries was an absolute blur. He remembered her walking back into the room with a myriad of potions and bandages in her arms, and the idle small talk she tried to make as she immediately got back to work. Her voice was soothing, and Time did his best to listen to what she was saying but his mind refused to budge from the topic of the Fierce Deity and death, even long after his wife had left. He was just … numb; his body, his senses, his emotions, were all just numb, all because of a memory he could not remember.

A few harsh knocks pulled Time out of his thoughts, and the visitor didn’t even bother to wait for an invitation. Warriors came barging into the room within seconds, with Wild slowly trailing in behind him, his face well - hidden beneath his signature cloak. They stood together at one side of the bedroom, and the Hero of Time couldn’t even muster the courage to look either of them in the eye.

“What did you do?”

Every bit of Warriors’s words were filled with unadulterated rage, even if they were just barely above a whisper. As the seconds ticked by without an answer, he yelled out louder, “ Tell me, Time, what the fuck did you do?!”

The Hero of Time flinched at the words, and could only muster out a small, “ U - Um -.”

“Can you even begin to understand the gravity of your actions?!” And the Hero of Warriors didn’t even concern himself with formalities anymore. “ You killed hundreds of innocent people just for your own sick enjoyment! They were here to help us - sent graciously by the queen herself - and you just slaughtered them as if they were nothing more than pigs and cattle! And the way you killed Legend and Sky … exactly how long were you waiting to do that?”

No - Time’s breath caught in his throat - no, no, Hylia, he didn’t -.

“Are you happy that two of Hylia’s Chosen Heroes are gone now, with two others well on their way? I’m sure Hyrule loves being in a coma, and Twilight is just absolutely thrilled about bleeding to death!”

Time didn’t miss the way Wild stiffened at the mention of his mentor, nor the shuddering breath he took.

Warriors took a step forward as to shield the champion from Time’s gaze and growled out, “ Those four trusted you - we all trusted you - and you stabbed us in the back like the fucking traitor that you are.”

The Hero of Time flinched at the words. Traitors were the thing that their captain hated the most, and when he said that someone was a traitor, he wholeheartedly meant it. 

His fingers twisted harder into the sheets underneath him. As pathetic as it was, he was scared. He was too terrified to ask the dreaded question of how he killed Legend and Sky, too terrified to see how bad off Twilight and Hyrule were, and too terrified to explain that he was under the control of a deity whose powers he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. He betrayed those young heroes who he had considered him as a leader and family, and he had undoubtedly shattered any chance of regaining their trust; all he could do now is wither under the captain’s denouncement and apologize for something that couldn’t be forgiven.

It was Warriors who finally broke the tense silence by sharply turning on his heel and leading the Hero of Wilds and himself out. “ You’re a filthy disgrace to the Kingdom of Hyrule,” He spat out. “ And if I find you anywhere near me or any of the other heroes, I’ll kill you.”

The slam of a door marked their exit, and the Hero of Time was left alone again. 

The room was filled with a warm glow from the fading sunset, and all the small picture frames and knickknacks scattered about the place were highlighted in a beautiful orange - red. He would usually appreciate the breathtaking scene, happy that his cruel and demanding adventures had led him to living on a peaceful farm with his loving wife, but he couldn’t this time, not with the knowledge that this field was stained with the blood of innocent soldiers and heroes long before and after him.

He messed up - he fucked up - and he didn’t even bother to hide the small tears that dribbled down his face and onto the beautifully - quilted fabric. He worked so hard to keep the Kingdom of Hyrule at peace, and did his best to help those in need regardless of how demanding they were, but no amount of good deeds could ever bring back any of the people he mercilessly slaughtered. Who would he even blame for his actions? Hylia? The Fierce Deity? They were both deities that obviously didn’t care what a Hylian said about them; they would just go on with their respective existences, not even batting an eye at the millions they had killed for the sake of getting what they wanted.

But Time wasn’t like that: he was a person with feelings, limits, traumas, and regrets, and no matter how immune he thought he was to the problems of this world, he would always come tumbling back down from his high horse as soon as he couldn’t take being the Hero of Time anymore. He had become arrogant, the years of saving people and being a beacon of hope finally getting to his head and allowing him to take the risk of letting the Fierce Deity have control over him, thinking that in some way, somehow, he could finally regain some resemblance of control and transform back into his usual self. He was beyond stupid to think that such a simple Hylian like him could take on an otherworldly god, and he was beyond stupid to think that his plan, no matter how well thought - out, could outsmart anyone that had existed for millennia. What a terrible decision that was, allowing something as powerful as a deity to keep him in the dark while it went on doing whatever it pleased. If only he could turn back time and - .

He stilled for a second before his head shot up in an instant. He was stumbling to his feet before he even knew it, and was eagerly making his way over to wear his item pouch resided on the dresser. His hand dug greedily into the bag like a hungry wolf, and he didn’t stop until his fingers brushed against a familiar ceramic. The item came out with little resistance, and he couldn’t help but stare as the sun’s rays bounced off his ocarina’s blue shell. 

He could do it: he could turn back time and prevent any of this from ever happening. The instrument was at his lips within milliseconds, his breath already ready to blow out the familiar tune, when a sudden thought came to mind:

What would happen to this timeline? Time knew for a fact that timelines don’t just disappear, if Legend’s and Hyrule’s, Wild’s and Twilight’s, and Wind’s eras were anything to go by, so what exactly would the Malon here be left with? Would the Link she knew just cease to exist? Or would a carbon copy of himself still exist with memories only the past him would know? And what about the other heroes? Would they go on in their travels with only four heroes instead of nine, significantly reducing their manpower and chances of success? And what if they failed to take care of the overarching threat? He could be leaving behind millions of distraught people to a dismal fate with no Hero of Time to blame.

But he couldn’t remain here; not when Sky, Legend, Twilight, and Hyrule were so close to an untimely death, if not already dead. So he would go back in time, prevent the Fierce Deity from ever having any control over him, and make sure that no one died at his hand.

With his mind made up, he blew into the Ocarina of Time, and watched as the seconds ticked backwards.

Time jolted as he was thrown back into time, and anxiously looked at his surroundings: it looked like he was outside a small tavern … yes, the one he and the Links had stumbled upon two days and 16 hours ago, and judging by the moon’s high position in the sky, it appears that this is the time they were about to leave. As if on cue, an irritated Legend groaned out,

“Ugh, does he always do this? I swear, Cityboy is going to drink himself into a coma one day.”

Warriors, the person in question, directed a dramatic pointed look towards the former and slurred out, “ Hey, I’ll go into a coma whenever I want to, thank you very much.”

A cheery Sky readjusted his grip on the captain’s arm and nervously laughed, “ It’s okay; I’m sure he’s a responsible drinker and knows when he’s reached his limit.” But then added in a smaller voice, “ But I don’t think drinking this much in one sitting is a good idea.”

“No, it’s fine! I’ve seen Wars drink a lot more than he did tonight! And the stuff they had here wasn’t even that strong anyways.” Wind chimed in, and Four from beside him could only stare in exasperation at the unlabeled bottle hidden behind the sailor’s back.

Wild jogged to the group seconds after and asked, “ Hey, are we gonna get going soon? Because Twi is rounding up all the dogs here again, and we don’t want another incident like last time.” And as if to emphasize his point, he jabbed his thumb towards the direction where his mentor was busy playing with a large number of said canines.

Hyrule regarded his travelling companion with an empathetic smile as he answered back with, “ Yeah, I think we were about to leave, right Time?” And when he looked to the group’s leader, he asked in a more concerned tone, “ … Time?”

The Hero of Time didn’t even realize he was staring at each one of them until a majority of them were staring back at him, each regarding him with a curious gaze. He quickly shook his thoughts away and said, “ Yes, we should get going before morning comes.”

So the group began to trek forward towards the inn they would eventually settle into approximately an hour later, all the while bustling about each other’s actions. Time smiled warmly at the group’s antics, but quickly set his jaw in a show of determination. He had another chance to set things right, and goddesses - be - damned if he let this opportunity just slip away.

He won’t let anyone die this time.  

[itsthemoofacewriting]

Potato Peeling- Chapter 2

So, I gave myself a week to update, which seemed perfectly reasonable at the time, except I didn’t factor in that I’d just written a 15k story and the first chapter to this beforehand. Needless to say, not much writing was done in that week but better late than never, right?  

I had to learn how to make marmalade and duck l’mikan for this story, all for you Momo!

Summary: Sanji's had never had an assistant before, but now, at least once a week, Nami's there to keep him company. Rating: K+

This can also be found on AO3 and FFN.

Enjoy.

Sanji looked down at the ripped and stained little piece paper that was handed to him with nothing but warmth. The penmanship was atrocious, and years of love had blurred the writing, but he knows exactly what this is and the deeper meaning behind it.

A handed down, family recipe.

Bell-mère’s recipe.

Nami had never shared this with him before now and he’d never taken that personally. As a chef he knew how personal these were and that these were about more than just the food. It was sentimental. But he’d heard whispers about this infamous dish, Nami had mentioned it in passing and that Bell-mère would make it on special occasions when talking about their childhoods. It’s why he’d never tried to recreate it without her say so and had stuck to other mikan based dishes.

It had all started when she’d walked in just after lunch and asked if he’d started preparing for dinner. When he’d answered in the negative, she’d thrust the recipe towards him and said that he could be her assistant for the evening if he was game. He was more than game. He wanted it more than anything and had nodded far too quickly, showing just how eager he was. Luckily, she hadn’t said anything about that, to his relief.

Now he was looking over the recipe with the critical eye of a chef before they started, he didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of Nami, especially not when this was his field of expertise. He’d be a fool any other time for her, but not now.

He wanted to impress her.

He looked through the method, from cooking the duck to making the mikan marmalade and nodded to himself. it was a very well written recipe, despite the state of the much-loved paper.

His eye caught something, and he bit back a groan. “Nami-san, please tell me you’ve made this before, and you know what ‘secret ingredient’ means?”

It was one of the biggest issues with handed down recipes, especially if they’d already been passed through a fair few generations. It’s what made them family recipes after all, a special ingredient or certain mixture that made the dish unique. But what may seem self-explanatory to begin with when it’s originally handed down, started to get lost further down the line.

Nami frowned and it didn’t fill him with much hope, but as she stood next to him to peer down at the recipe in his hands she laughed. “Oh! That’s just Bell-mère’s mikans. They’re one of a kind, you can’t get them anywhere else, you know,” she told him proudly, mirth in her eyes.

“Oh thank god,” he sighed in relief. He was an outstanding chef, he knew that, but even he wouldn’t be able to figure that one out.

“Breathe, Sanji-kun, you’re in good hands. I know what I’m doing,” she said teasingly, winking at him and squeezing his hand.

He ignored the way his hand tingled her at touch and smiled widely. “I’m at your mercy, lead the way, Nami-san!” He said with a dramatic flourish of his hands, gesturing for her to start as he bowed slightly, and she giggled in response.

It’d been a week since that night in the kitchen peeling potatoes and something had changed… but also not. Nothing was verbally said, but Nami was different with him. Friendlier, perhaps? She stood closer to him, touched him more and there was occasionally a look on her face that he couldn’t decipher.

He thought he knew what it meant, but he didn’t want to overstep the invisible line and ruin whatever it is this was. He’d aired his feelings that night, at least it felt like he had, and she hadn’t accepted or denied his feelings. And that was fine, because honestly it was just a relief to know she still wanted to be around him. He was happy to have whatever he was given.

But it left him in this weird limbo, where he didn’t know how to react to her touches or her flirtatious words. The flirtatious words weren’t completely new, he knew she’d lay it on thick when she wanted something, and he was more than happy to concede to her whims. Maybe it was more accurate to say that the context had changed. It happened when she didn’t want anything, they could be in conversation and she’d say something that’d make him splutter and then moved on like nothing had happened. It was both wonderful and embarrassing.

He was brought out of his musings when her hand came to rest on his arm to get his attention. “Ready?” She asked, holding out an apron for him with her other hand.

“More than ready,” he replied with confidence and she smirked back at him.

It was clear she’d made this recipe many times before and he was truly impressed. Which didn’t say very much in truth, he was always impressed by her, but this time, he was impressed as a chef. She moved with such confidence and fluidity, hardly ever looking at the recipe on the paper.

Not only that, they moved around each other with such ease; moving to the side before the other had to ask, passing the other the ingredient they were after, it was like they’d been working together for years.

Before he knew it, the duck was in the oven for the first cook, pricked and seasoned.

“So, what we need to do now is make some more marmalade, we have enough for dinner, but we won’t any left after that, and then make the orange sauce once the duck’s done it’s second cook,” Sanji said, mentally checking off the list of things still left to do in his head.

He stopped at the bland look Nami was giving him and then it clicked. “Sorry, you’re in charge. What do you want to do next, Nami-san?”

“Thank you,” she replied tartly, in jest. “So, what we need to do now is make some extra marmalade, because we’ll have none after this and then the orange sauce. But I don’t suggest we make that until the duck’s finished its second cook,” she finished smartly, eyebrows raised and looking pleased with herself. Almost as if daring him to say something.

“Excellent suggestion! This is why you’re the chef and I’m the lowly assistant,” he praised, more than happy to play into the joke.

Nami laughed then and he’d been right, playing into the joke was more than worth it when her sunny smile soon turned on him.

“Right then, you scrub the mikans and I’ll measure out the water and bring it to the boil,” she instructed and then they were back into the task once again.

They were back to moving around each other as the mikans were placed into the boiling water to simmer until they were soft and Sanji was getting the pre-peeled potatoes out of the fridge to cut and get ready for roasting. There were a few moments in-between where Nami would stand just that bit too close or lean into him to see what he was doing and he had to remind himself to focus, to not think about how warm she felt or how nice she smelt. It was a challenge to say the least.

The scent of the duck was soon wafting through the kitchen and Sanji was kneeling down beside Nami to check the duck. He praised her technique when she wiggled the leg to check how it was cooking, and she told him how Bell-mère had shown her when she was young.

“If you’d do the honours,” she asked, stepping away from the oven to grab a bowl for the duck fat to be drained.

He was more than happy to comply as he lifted the grate the duck was sitting on and drained the fat from the tray beneath. “Using me for my muscles, huh?” He joked as he placed the duck back onto the tray and into the oven for the second cook.

“Just one of the perks of having you around,” she said coyly, looking up at him from under half-lidded eyes and oh god, it felt like he couldn’t breathe. His tie definitely felt too tight right now. He gulped heavily and her eyes traced down to watch the action, which only made it worse.

And then he was free as she turned around as if nothing had happened. He was going to end up with whiplash at this rate, although he couldn’t complain too much. He was enjoying this. This couldn’t be his imagination at this point, right?

By then the mikans were soft and once they were out of the water, Nami and Sanji were both scooping out the innards to put into the muslin bag. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Nami’s eyebrows pinched together and she looked so focused on the task, to get all the innards out and into the bag. She must have felt it as her gaze shifted to him and her focused determination shifted into something softer. He felt like a little boy being caught stealing biscuits from the jar before dinner and his eyes were shooting back to the mikan in his hands as a flush worked onto his cheeks.

“Okay, I’m done. We need to cut the rind next,” Nami said and when he eventually made eye contact, he was faced with an all too knowing look on her face, something that did nothing to help the heat on his cheeks.

He cleared his throat then. “Fine or chunky?” He knew she liked it finely cut but she was in charge and he’d always indulge her.

“Fine, please.” She beamed up at him.

His hands moved the knife swiftly through the rinds with precision, gliding across the board and watching as the pieces got smaller and smaller with each cut. That was until he could feel eyes on him and was met by Nami’s piercing gaze from the corner of his eye. He hummed at her in question.

“I can work a knife well enough, but not like that. I’m a bit jealous,” Nami admitted, watching the knife glide across with board with no hesitation.

“Years of practice,” he reassured, “And plenty of cut fingers. In the early days Zeff wouldn’t let me do anything but chop. Said I had to get the basics right first and at the time I resented him for it, but now I get it.”

“I don’t fancy cutting my fingers, but any tips?”

Sanji smiled at that. “I don’t blame you. We couldn’t possibly damage Nami-san’s gorgeous hands.” Nami laughed at that and elbowed him good naturedly on the arm. “But if you tuck your fingertips under, you can move quicker without the risk of chopping them off. Much harder to cut yourself but if you do, the worst you’ll do is take the skin off.”

Then his hand was over hers, showing her how to place her fingers and his eyes were nervously shooting up to her face. It was ridiculous, they’d touched each other multiple times, she’d certainly had no qualms about touching him, yet he still worried about pushing it too far. This felt intimate and he didn’t want to overstretch the elastic band until it snapped. Yet she wasn’t looking at him, she was looking down at her own hands and moving them accordingly.

She started cutting again when he moved away and although it was nowhere near as quick or precise as him, it was a vast improvement. “See!”

“I know you’re just humouring me-” she rolled her eyes “-but I’ll take it.”

“Everyone has to start somewhere!”

The muslin bag was added back into the water with the sliced mikan rinds. Nami started adding the sugar and stirring it to dissolve it. With everything going on, the kitchen was slowly getting hotter and hotter. Sanji had already removed his jacket but he used the quiet moment to roll up his sleeves to his elbows and loosen his tie. It’d probably make more sense to remove his vest, but he didn’t miss the way Nami’s eyes lingered over it when she thought he wasn’t watching. So that would be the last thing to go, if he really had to.

“How often did you make this when you were younger?” He normally didn’t ask questions about her childhood unless she brought it up first, but he felt they’d passed that barrier. This was a bit of a test to see whether it was true.

“Every Sunday. It was cheap to make and Bell-mère enjoyed cooking with us. We’d have it on toast for breakfast for the week coming.”

Sanji let her talk as she stopped stirring the simmering marmalade and he moved to add the duck fat to the potatoes to put them in the oven with the duck.

“Afterwards,” Nami paused briefly and Sanji understood exactly what she meant, “I’d make it with Nojiko when I’d go home. It’s like she knew I was coming; everything would be ready for when I arrived,” Nami smiled fondly, leaning back against the counter.

The duck would be done in a few minutes, but before then they had a marmalade to finish. He grabbed the dishes he’d put into the freezer earlier and Nami joined him when he set them on the side next to the simmering marmalade.

“You know how to check this?”

“Of course, I’m a marmalade connoisseur, were you not listening?” She teased and hip checked him cheekily, to which he breathed out a laugh and handed her a spoon.

He wondered if the heat and the few hours they’d spent hauled in the kitchen were getting to them. They giggled like schoolgirls as the bickered playfully back and forth about whether the marmalade was set as they poked and prodded it. It wasn’t the most professional thing to be doing but he couldn’t find it within himself to care. It was always lovely to see her like this. Especially around him.

The playful atmosphere dispersed as quickly as it’d arrived when Nami lifted her thumb to her mouth to lick the marmalade off. His mouth suddenly felt too dry. The scene before him played out in slow motion in his head and he was left wondering if it did for her too. It certainly didn’t help that she maintained eye contact as she did it, her tongue darting out to lick away at the marmalade there and he couldn’t believe he was jealous of a thumb right now.

All of his reservations were flying out of the window in the next moment as he suddenly crowded her, all of her teasing over the past week and today coming to a head. It was sink or swim… and was she leaning into him?

Any speck of confidence that he’d had in that moment deflated as the oven beeped at them and he was both cursing and thanking the oven. He’d either just missed his moment (again) or was saved from messing this all up. He hated how he swung between both scenarios so quickly.

“I’ll get the duck,” he croaked as he took a step back and smooth his apron out, just to give his hands something to do.

Nami nodded at him and turned back to the marmalade to start spooning it into glass jars.

Did she look disappointed?

The atmosphere in the kitchen was awkward and there was no avoiding it, even as he took the duck out and she soaked the pot in the sink. It was deafening and his brain was left scrambling on how to rectify it quickly.

As he put the duck on top of the cooker, he settled on apologising. He’d overstepped, he could hardly call himself a gentleman if he didn’t.

The apology was on the tip of his tongue as he turned to face her but died a quick death when he realised how close she was to him.

“You have sauce here. No idea how you managed that,” Nami said and got even closer, so, so close, as her hand reached for him.

When she wiped sauce from the corner of his mouth, he finally broke, any self-doubt crumbling around him and falling to the floor. The act was so intimate, her hand cupping his jaw and her thumb lingering at the side of face and she’s so close to him that he moved without really thinking.

He leaned down to press a tentative, albeit clumsy, kiss to her lips. He didn’t manage to land it fully on her lips, slightly off centre, but there was no mistaking what he’s done.

He’s both relieved, for finally doing something that’s plagued his mind for a week, but terrified because he could still be wrong. He stopped breathing as he pulled away.

“Have I overstepped?” He’s terrified to ask, but he has to.

Nami doesn’t pull away in disgust like he thought she would, or worse slap him, but she also doesn’t say anything for a second. He’s stunned her it seemed, so maybe that slap could still be coming.

It doesn’t.

The expression melted off after a second and he watched her eyes warm and her lips slowly curve upward, and he never wanted to look at anything else ever again.

He’s watching her lips as they part to breath out a murmured, “Finally,” and then she’s tugging him down by his tie to press their lips softly together this time.

Any hesitancy flew out of the window as Nami initiated the second kiss and his hands are on her back, somewhat confidently, to bring her in closer.

The second kiss is nowhere near as clumsy as the first when Sanji got to take his time with it and take his time he would. This is all he’d ever dreamed of since meeting the woman in his arms and he’d savour and stretch this moment for as long as he was allowed to.

He was in no hurry as he pressed their lips back together in a series of pecks, lips moving languidly against the others as they found their rhythm. Sanji felt like he was sinking, her lips were so soft, and her hands were so warm as they released his tie to smooth over his chest. Although he’d wanted to keep the pace slow, he couldn’t help it when his tongue brushed against the seal in her lips.

And closed mouth kisses soon turned into open mouth kisses. Something that he should have done much sooner. She tasted of the marmalade they’d made, and he couldn’t think of a better way to try it for the first time. He chased after the taste, groaning when her tongue reciprocated in kind. Her hands left his chest, travelling up to play with the hair at nape of his neck and his hands sunk to her hips to squeeze at the feeling of her playing with his hair.  

He hadn’t even realised that she’d been walking them back until her back hit the counter and he could finally press against her as tightly as he wanted to. Everything about this felt amazing, her taste, her touch. His previous fantasies could never have lived up to the real thing.

He pulled back briefly to let them breath, but it was a short interlude before he was kissing her again.

It wasn’t nearly long enough when Nami tried to pull away, muffling a quiet, “Sanji”, against his lips that did nothing but encourage him.

“Sanji,” she said louder this time, winding down the kissing into pecks again. “There’s still sauce to make, marmalade to put away and potatoes to deal with,” she reminded him, her hands leaving his hair to rest on his shoulders and put a bit of space between them. He didn’t let her go too far, but he did move his hands to her waist- a more sensible placement whilst he tried to compose himself and actually acknowledge what she was saying.

“You should think about adding this step into the cooking method,” he teased after a second. He could spare another moment before he had to act semi-professional again and finish dinner.

“You’re an awful assistant, Sanji-kun, distracting the chef like this,” she jokingly scolded him as she half-heartedly slapped his shoulder.

“Oh, you wound me, Nami-san.” One of hands clasped over his heart dramatically and Nami snorted in response.

“Far too distracting,” she said, her hands snaking down to him back to play with the fabric of his waistcoat. He knew it.

“Like you’re one to talk.” Eyes skimming across the apron that’d teased him throughout that day, he was far too into it considering what it was.

He leaned back in to press another lingering kiss to her lips. He would do it; he would step away and get back to work. He tried to convince himself, but it was getting harder and harder to as the seconds ticked by. In his defence, she kissed him back. She pulled away from the kiss a second later, like she’d read his mind, and covered his eager lips with her hand to stop him pressing forward again.

“No slacking in my kitchen, little eggplant,” she murmured against his jaw, planting a kiss there afterwards- like that was going to help him focus.

He froze at her words. Oh god. He didn’t know whether he was going to faint or have a heart attack. He was confident he’d be able to pull off both. Only Nami could make that nickname sound sexy.

“I’m not sure how I feel about that,” Sanji breathed back, sightly muffled behind her hand.  

“Good or bad?” She asked, curious, and pulled her hand away to rest back on his shoulder.

“Good because you make it sound so good, but bad because I have to fight off the images of Zeff.”

“You’re making it sound like a challenge to change that.”

Oh god. Oh god. He wouldn’t be able to face Zeff ever again if she had her way. And he wasn’t sure if that was something to complain about or not. It wasn’t, he decided quickly, it was stupid to even entertain thinking of that negatively. He’d probably beg for it too, that’s just how powerful she was.  

She smiled up at him, like she knew exactly what she was doing, and she probably did.

He was rewarded with one last kiss, short and sweet, before she was stepping away and ordering him on how to make the sauce. Back to business. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

This might just beat peeling potatoes with her.

----------------------------------------

Am I ever going to get over confession stories? Probably not.

As always, please excuse any errors.

Thanks for reading.

[imalwaysintune]

Statement of Julian Robert, regarding the stranger that has been living in his walls. Statement taken direct from subject, the 9th of May, 2020. Statement begins...

---------------------------

When I awoke, everything had seemed normal. All my various knick-knacks that were scattered around my room remained untouched. There was only one difference I could see- my dresser drawer was open.

It seemed like a seemingly harmless revelation; drawers get left open all the time, who would be freaked out by just a drawer?

Obviously, I wasn’t. It barely registered in my mind, but looking back I wish more than anything that I would have noticed. I wish I could reach back to my past self and tell him that he’s not crazy. Maybe then I wouldn’t be where I am now.

I got out of my bed and made my way to my kitchen like any other morning and made myself my usual breakfast: a bagel and cream cheese. The cream cheese looked a little less full than I had remembered it, but this didn’t really register to me either. 

Eventually, I got ready for work. That’s the scariest part, is that everything had seemed so normal and looking back, knowing it’s not...

So I opened the drawer, and I could have sworn that one of my shirts was missing. It had been there the night prior, on top of everything else in the drawer. So for it to be gone, I was utterly confused, but I didn’t have time to think about it. I was going to be late for work at this rate, and I didn’t need more tardies on my tail.

The next... ‘strange’ thing I had noticed was when I got home. I have a cat, and I swear that she can see ghosts or spirits. She’s always staring off at things that aren’t really there, and to be honest, most of the time I just find it cute.

This time, she was staring at one of my vents that was in the living room, near the ceiling above my TV. Not only, though, was she staring at the vent with such intensity, her ears pushed back farther than I’ve ever seen them. She looked like she was hunting a prey.. no, almost as if she was being hunted by a predator and this was her last stand.

When I walked over to her, she lunged at me and it scared the hell out of me. She managed to get me pretty good with her claws, so that’s why I have this scar on my face. It would be the first of my scars I’d get in those few months after this incident.

It started slowly at first. I would notice things only slightly out of place, and I managed to convince myself that I had taken up sleepwalking. I’d never slept walked in my life, but that had to be the only solution. I lived alone, there was no one around to move the objects, and soon they became too heavy for it to be my cat’s work.

It was when things started disappearing that I got seriously freaked out. The first thing was simple: it was just a six-pack of beer from the fridge. But I took the entire day searching my house trying to find where it had gone. I checked under carpets and behind things that I knew wouldn’t have what I was looking for, but I was desperate. 

Much to my dismay, I didn’t find any remains of the six-pack. The entire rest of my night was spent chewing my fingernails too far down. I couldn’t even care about the blood that was starting to slowly run down my hands, but I just couldn’t bring myself to care.

My cat changed too. She was constantly aggressive and always staring at the vents in every room of the house. I was starting to get worried, and taking her to the vet yielded no results. It was just a waste of a couple hundred bucks.

It wasn’t until about a month ago that I started hearing things. I’ve heard the fridge open and close, though when I check, nothing seems out of place. I’ve heard the shower run in the middle of the night, but by the time I’ve gotten over my nerves, there was no sign that I wasn’t imagining things.

There was one night I woke up and my throat was dry, so I got up to get a drink of water. As soon as I opened up the door to my bedroom, I heard a crash from the kitchen, and it sounded like someone was moving around in my kitchen. I’d like to say that I braved the noise and went to check immediately, but instead, I slammed my door and cowered against it until the sun rose again.

It was by then that I even felt safe enough to get up, and I ran over to my phone to phone the police, but it was a while before they got there. I heard the knock on the door and it took all my willpower to go through my apartment and open the front door.

The only thing they found was a shattered glass in the kitchen. No fingerprints or evidence of a breaking and entering. Nothing was stolen and nothing was out of place except for the broken glass. Once they saw my cat, they started being very rude, like I was wasting their time. I wrote down my statement and they left in a rush, and I was stuck feeling like shit.

I ended up laying on the couch with my cat for hours, just stuck in a constant state of fear and confusion. Was I insane? Was this all just in my head and I was just lonely?

I finally decided to just take a shower, hopefully the hot water would clear my head. When I walked in, though, that was when I knew I wasn’t crazy.

The vent in the bathroom was hanging wide open, hanging on by one screw that looked like it would give any minute. I just sat there dumbfounded, scared to look at what could be inside.

When I climbed up onto the counter to get a closer look, I screamed. It’s not totally clear in my memory what I saw, but I do remember seeing a hand. At least... I think it was a hand. I think it was a hand fundamentally, but the joints were all pointing different directions and the fingers were way too long.

It was connected to an arm that drew my attention to a face, covered mostly by the darkness of the vent. It hurt to look at, and I could only look for a few seconds before I slipped backward and fell hard onto the ground.

It had been... smiling. At least, I think it was a smile. The face was like static, constantly shifting, and moving around. Its mouth traveled from its cheek to its forehead in the few seconds I looked at it. It was bizarre more than anything, and it wasn’t until I let it sit in my mind for a few seconds that I started to scream.

I screamed for hours, until my voice was hoarse and I heard knocking at the door. I ignored and sat there in my bathroom for hours, gripping at my hair and pulling it out in chunks. 

Through all this though, what I didn’t realize was that I couldn’t see anything. I had honestly just thought that my eyes had been closed through the entire experience, that they refused to open in the panic that had engulfed me.

When I finally had the nerves to stand and just try and do... something, I tried opening my eyes. But I found that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t open my eyes. I reached my hand up to my face and clutched at my face, and when the tip of my finger brushed against one of my eyes, it felt bone dry.

If I hadn’t lost the ability to cry, I think I would have cried for hours then. But my tear ducts seemed to be broken and I couldn’t see anything anymore.

I was numb at that point; I stumbled around my house looking for my phone, and I finally found it in my living room. I don’t know how, but I managed to open it and call my best friend at the time. I made up some bullshit excuse as to why I needed to stay with him, but he seemed more than willing anyway.

I’ve been living with him for the past two weeks, and he’s the one that told me about your institute. He wanted to check out my apartment after I’d been there a few days, just to confirm a hunch he had after I told him everything that had happened.

I urged him to let me go with him, and he reluctantly agreed. When we stepped into my apartment, my eyes started to burn. It was the most painful thing I’d ever felt in my entire life. They felt like they were moving, going from my eye sockets into the back of my throat and I felt like I was choking. I was choking on my own eyeballs.

I heard my friend distantly, asking if I was okay but the question never really registered. I felt like I was completely losing my mind at that moment. I could feel my brain cracking, like the glass that had been dropped not so long ago.

My friend immediately picked me up and dragged me out of my house, and the last thing I remembered before passing out was that face again. It was smiling at me again, it’s hand reaching towards me and... and plucking out my brain. It held it in its ever-shifting hand and squeezed and I felt it...

When I awoke next, I was in a hospital bed. Well, that’s what I gathered being surrounded by beeping machines. My friend had been there, and explained that he took me to the hospital as soon as my eyes had started to bleed. The doctors performed an MRI on me and had discovered that a piece of my brain was missing.

I think the creature stole my amygdala. I’m never scared anymore, even when I dream about… that fucking thing’s ever-shifting, breaking form. It baffles the doctors, but I escaped the hospital easy enough. I didn’t need to stay there anymore; there was nothing more they could do for me. I knew that.

It had been living in my apartment for god knows how long, and I had just been unlucky that day by coming face to face with it. My friend, now roommate, takes care of me now. He constantly has to clean my face of blood. I don’t cry anymore. But every morning I wake up after a dream, everything around me is soaked in blood.

My roommate never fully describes the scene, not that I could be nervous about it even if I tried. Now I live my life as a blind man, constantly stuck in limbo with this stranger. 

I didn’t want to come here, but my friend urged me. So I’m giving my statement, and I think after this I might try and kill myself. I don’t want to burden him any longer, and the stranger says it’s a good idea. I’m inclined to agree, if I’m being honest. Death feels like it would be such a relief now. 

Maybe I can finally see my cat again in the afterlife. Maybe I can finally escape this hell I’ve found myself in. 

--------------------------------

My entry for Shobasuckso’s horror writing contest!

[hecohansen31]

A Little Gain Of Her

(Hawthorne! Michael Langdon+Virgin! Reader (+Succubus)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

We finally made it!

I finally managed to publish the last part of “A Liittle Loss of Innocence” (Part One, Part Two)  and I am very nervous about it, because I hope it will be a worth finale to this series, which is one of my first finieshed series (MIRACLES DO HAPPEN).

As always: want to give me some feedback, heart, comments and reblog help me a lot (alongside DMs about what you liked or asks about what you didn’t, just remeber to be nice and kind!).

Feedback means the WORLD to us, fanfics writers and we will love you for ever if you do!

So I hope you will enjoy it, and let me know if you have any asks that might turn up in spin-offs for this series, love you, lovelies!

(also guys there is a little disclaimer at the end, please read it, also I put it in the end so it wouldn’t spoil the ending, love you!)

SUMMARY: Your broken heart is reayd for more heartbreak when Michael reveals a painful discovery about how their relationship started...

Will you be able to forgive me or is he gone too far?

WORDS: 9,2 K (Yeah... I might have written a bit...)

WARNINGS: Loss of Virginity (So there will be a bit of blood), Sex, Oral Sex (Male-Female receiving) A Bit of Dirty Talk, Heartbreak (Angst), Relationship Starting With Dub-Con, Teasing and Edging (also Demonic Infestetation and Succubus).

One of the true facts that had made her laugh was the one which said that you could die from heartbreak.

She found it so stupid, mostly when she honestly believed that a break-up, something which usual provoked heartbreak, wasn’t something so heavy and horrible to make your heart stop pumping blood.

But she didn’t laugh now, that her own heart was beating so slowly.

Almost as slowly her entire life, which had become unmoving, stuck in a hellish limbo, between routine and the will to do nothing but stay on her bed and cry there, hiding herself under the fluffy blankets, meanwhile she held her pillow to her chest, trying to suppress its shudders, but they still shook her body till late at night, when exhaustion took over.

She honestly felt on the brink of death and laughed at her own stupid heart for being this frail.

Even more disappointed in herself because what had happened to her wasn’t a break-up, but a straight up rejection.

(She honestly didn’t know how else to describe Michael’s words, so arrogant and light, but they still broke her heart in its deepest place).

She had, at first, felt so ridiculously stupid for having believed that he might have wanted something else from her, other than her body.

Her first reaction had been anger, throwing things in each way she could, her magic acting out randomly snapping doors closed and open continuously meanwhile books opened and glass shattered.

She had calmed down after all the energy had been lost and there had been left nothing but her emptiness.

There she asked herself why he couldn’t love her, till it heartbreakingly broke her heart to see herself in her worst state for a man.

(A man she had trusted and somehow might have loved).

But it hurt her too much and since then any distraction had been good for her, but at night, when distractions couldn’t help her, her bed ate her and exhaustion soothed her broken heart, mended roughly with a band-aid, meanwhile she hoped for her brain would just forget about him.

But it didn’t.

She had good reasons to believe that it would never forget him.

That night her bed had seemed extremely tempting, but her friends, sad and bored of seeing her moping around and moving as fast as she could, had made her take part to the annual “Witch Ball”.

In the mortal world she had never cared for these things, usually not having a knight, but right now she felt even less interested, tired and sad, definitely not in the best shape to be pushed into a pretty dress and high heels.

But she hadn’t been able to say no to her friends, when she knew they were the saddest to see her waste away, but they didn’t dare to ask for any details (although from the growls Madison had mumbled when Michael had walked in the library, one day, while they were there, she knew that they had some general ideas on what might have caused her sickness) not wanting to bring bad memories on her mind.

She knew they just wanted to make her feel better, but she didn’t know if it might have been possible, anymore.

She had no will and hope for happiness, no matter the sweet daily enjoyment she tried to find, to avoid that black hole that was in her heart.

So, she had agreed to slip herself in an elegant pink dress, the colors bringing a bit of softness in her sad sad smile, meanwhile a few good touches of make-up and to her hair had brought her back from the village of the dead, bringing a bit of colors to her face, meanwhile the hair finally out of her face were elegant and not in a messy or silly bun.

She had talked with her friends and laughed, meanwhile it all went on, meanwhile it all happened, feeling her heart soar a bit during the silly conversations; she definitely felt grateful for her friends, she was lucky to have them, but she didn’t want her sadness to be contagious for her friends.

She felt the like the only one who stuck out: single, a virgin and sad.

But she tried to keep that thought out of her head.

But it all came back as she was alone, waiting for Coco and Mallory to get ready, although from the noise she could hear behind their door, they weren’t using make-up, but definitely making out, which made her roll her eyes, a sarcastic laugh escaping her lips, meanwhile she played with her dress, dusting it off and raising it to avoid it getting caught in her nude heels.

And as if the universe heard her complain, the source of it appeared in front of her eyes.

She mistook him for a vision, much better than any water in a desert.

He wore an elegant tuxedo, but not the typical one she had seen each Hawthorne boy wore.

No, he just couldn’t avoid being a peacock even in this event, going for an elegant black tuxedo but with red designs over it, beautiful but also clearly not something everyone could pull off, unlike him, who looked completely at ease in the assemble.

His elegant dark red loafers made no sound as he moved closer to her, looking at the floor, till he raised his head to meet her eyes, which had been waiting for his azure ones and when they met she immediately saw the change in them.

The arrogant look softened.

He seemed almost happy to see her.

And she couldn’t believe he could lie so well.

She immediately lowered her eyes to the ground, her legs twisting under her, pushing her as far away from him as she could, her back hitting the soft plush velvet of the walls, her naked shoulder brushing against it, and she felt nothing but pure coldness.

He seemed to take in all her reaction, saddened by it, biting his lips slowly, pushing his bottom between his teeth, tormenting it as if he wanted to torture himself almost as she did, making himself feel like her; but she just couldn’t believe that he felt any kind of emotion different from lust or arrogance.

He still moved closer, but stopped close enough for them to have a relatively big space between them, and leaving her a little piece of air to breathe in peace.

But all the air she was taking in to avoid a mental breakdown was immediately taken away from what he said her.

-I know it doesn’t matter… but you look gorgeous, tonight-.

Of course, it didn’t matter.

But she still couldn’t help but release the first honest and genuine smile in weeks, on her lips.

-… you don’t look so bad yourself- she mumbled, immediately looking away: he didn’t deserve her love and he didn’t deserve her pity.

He let out an embarrassed laugh, his hair being thrown back, catching the light in a perfect arch of golden she wanted to touch and mess, but she just pushed her nails further in the weak skin of her palms.

She half-expected him to walk away as he had done before, almost challenged him to do it, minding him no attention, hoping for Mallory and Coco to finish their make-out session in order to finally be able to go to the ball together.

But the universe had somehow declared she couldn’t have a moment of peace.

-… (Y/N)…- she wanted to tell him not to say her name with those plump lips of his, the most sensual sound came out of them, a prayer of a fool in the throes of pleasure and they hadn’t even touched -…I think we need to talk-.

-What for? – her hysterics were shown through her tone, full of derision and annoyance, a mask to keep him from knowing how much she had wished for those words, praying that one day he would barge in her bedroom, and ask for her forgiveness on his knees.

She would cruelly deny him on most nights she dreamed it, but during her most feverish dreams… what they hadn’t been able to conclude happened, with her hands in his hair, pulling and his mouth latched on her nipples, exactly just like last time.

-… I think that you know that last time I sent you away, rather unkindly…- his tone matched hers, clearly not wanting to appear a lesser opponent, but softness shone in his eyes, asking and begging for her to give him a chance to talk, as if he was speaking to a wounded animal.

She was a wounded deer in his eyes, but the truth was that she was much worse, a broken woman, with him having destroyed the thing that held her entire heart together.

-You say “unpolitely” I say “you are an asshole, and I don’t need to encourage your assholish views”- she honestly wanted to take that step further, the one that would hurt him as he had hurt her, but she just couldn’t turn around and leave him there.

She had been always too sweet for this game of love.

-… I know that I am indeed even worse than what you believe me to be, but explanations might bring some kind of relief to your aching soul, because if you feel even a miniscule amount of the pain I have in my heart, I feel nothing but respect for you for walking around with your head high, you are much stronger than what I believed-.

She honestly didn’t want to give up just because of his silver-tongue, each word delivered perfectly with a troubled expression, as if he found it difficult to discover she had missed him almost as much as he had missed her.

Suddenly his eye bags seemed more evident and the frown on her mouth was laced with wrinkles made from worry and not enough sleep: she had been too focused on his outfit, to notice he was a broken man as well.

But she hadn’t been the one to close the door in his face, last time.

-… you might speak, but in English and I don’t want silly words to cover up the major fuck-up you did- she couldn’t hide the fact that she had been infected by the little laughter of relief he left out and he took a step closer, almost coming closer enough to touch her, eyeing her arms, naked because of the sleeveless dress.

He wanted to touch her so badly, but her dark eyes sought nothing but a reason to run away and disappear under his touch warned him.

-I promise I will do my best not to take any of your precious time- he promised, charmingly and she just rolled her eyes and almost went back to remind him about the “no pretty words policy” -… but I just couldn’t take you, last time-.

She blushed at the mention of the natural act they had almost committed to, last time.

-I was more than willing to go on- she pointed out, trying to lessen the warmth on her cheeks, she just hoped that it might not be too evident.

-And so was I- she honestly felt like she could breathe.

For the entire time, she had almost been worried that he might have seriously not wanted her, horrified by her appearance, her willingness or just because she wasn’t enough, this had sent her even farther down the self-pity road, her self-esteem completely buried under her own ugliness.

-… then why? – she breathed out, coming closer, meanwhile his eyes eyed the ground extremely carefully,

-I couldn’t… when you don’t know the truth, the entire truth- she looked at him confused, but he kept his eyes away from her -… I was the one who summoned the succubus and linked it to you-.

Her heart missed a beat and she was sure she had heard it in the wrong away: he didn’t mean what he meant, he just couldn’t.

-… you didn’t seem interested in me, or better… I thought you were too shy to… I know it was a very bad idea, but I thought you might need to lower your inhibitions for us to have a conversation-.

-We didn’t have a conversation- her tone was rough, pure stone against metal and he knew he had said the exact worst thing ever -… and it wasn’t my inhibitions you lowered: they were the barriers I put up so people like you don’t hurt me-.

Not to talk about the fact that she felt so dirty at the thought the he just manipulated her.

-…. I know! I know, I did wrong… and pushed you into something you didn’t want to, but… I need you, desperately…-.

-You can beg all you want, things will never change- she finally had the strength to do what she had been supposed to do since the start of this conversation -I hate you even more-.

She turned around, not sparing a single look for him: anger and shame burned on her cheeks and in her chest, meanwhile sadness screamed in her head, enough that she barely heard what Michael had to say, before she left him and his life.

Forever.

For good.

It was barely a whisper but…

“It’s all too bad, because my heart can only love you”.

She had been trying to clear her mind, but halfway through the ball she had been unable to do anything to stop the tremors in her hands due to her conflicting emotions, which had made her unable to focus, and knowing that her friends would get worried she did her best in order to hide every sign of discomfort, before taking advantage of the opening of the dances to jump herself in the bathroom.

There she had brushed calmly her hair out of her face, before dipping without much gentleness her face under it, knowing it would ruin the masterpiece that her friends had created, but she felt it prick at her skin annoyingly, meanwhile with her hands she pulled on the zipper on the side of her dress, finally let breathing again.

She knew she must have looked pathetic, halfway through a panic attack, Michael’s words circling in her mind mixing together.

“I was the one who summoned the succubus” and then “It’s all too bad, because my heart can only love you”.

It was all an all too sick game he liked to play, toying with her as a cat did with a mouse, which he wanted to eat.

But his voice sounded so genuine and his expression was so hurt.

But what he had done with the succubus was something she couldn’t forgive.

He had not only violated her trust but also he had violated her in a way that made her feel sick.

Clearly, she had had some kind of attraction on him, enough for the incubus spell to work on her, but it still didn’t allow him to take advantage of it in that way.

It was as if she had been dosed with aphrodisiacs and, although it wasn’t legal, it wasn’t the ideal start of a relationship she had to say.

How could she trust him, again?

She was checking herself out in the mirror, collecting the mascara under her eyes, when slowly she saw a black stain appear on the mirror; at first she thought it was just a little bit of mascara which had ended in her eyes, but slowly she realized that it was on the mirror.

And it was becoming more and more larger.

Till it completely shadowed her, as if she there was a shadow in the mirror, completely mimicking her body.

And when she had a “shadow twin”, it finally escaped the mirror, dividing itself from it and slowly gaining new features, till she had again her succubus twin in front of her.

-What the hell?! Weren’t you supposed to be gone? – she honestly didn’t know what to say, mostly after she had discovered that it was Michael the puppeteer behind her; maybe he had had wanted to try again to make her succumb to his wishes, using the succubus and its power.

But she wouldn’t fall again, immediately invoking a protection spell.

-… let’s just say that I am not here on my count- she replied, meanwhile twirling her ponytail and checking out her new outfit -… by the way… I like this outfit, brings out the little virgin you are-.

She tried not to blush but, apparently, her idea that it was Michael who was behind all of this was true… she honestly should have gone straight up to Cordelia…

-Your lover is in danger- she almost chocked on air, looking at her confused, who just shoot back at her a direct and annoyed glance as if to say “oh you didn’t know” -… I am here, because my previous master left the gate open and I have heard that some creatures might want to escape their realities-.

Which would explain her presence here, even if she and Michael had sent her away.

The gate, which linked the demonic world and human world, was still open, allowing many other demons to walk in comfortably, if they found the right road.

… which could be a total coverage for the succubus to get her to go to Michael, with a fake excuse.

-… you don’t believe me- it clearly shown in her eyes and the incubus saw it -… and I honestly know that we started with the wrong foot…-.

-Michael used you to make me fuck me, doesn’t it bother you? – it honestly bothered her, mostly when the succubus sported her matching face.

-Sweetie, I thrive on sexual energy- explained the succubus, checking herself out in the mirror, popping her lips to let the lip-gloss touch her lips in order to expand more the glossy substance -… I honestly am happy as long as that boy fucks something and satisfies is darkest desires-.

She seemed honestly enough for being an agent of chaos and a demon.

-… so I should trust you-.

-… or you couldn’t and your boyfriend will be eaten by a sloth demon… I don’t make the rules …I…- she just looked down, something almost human shining in her bottomless eyes -… I just came here to warn you so that you can save your lover boy-.

-First of all, he isn’t my boyfriend, second of all I hate him so I might as well leave him to been eaten by a sloth demon…- she could have laughed at the absurdity of the entire situation -… he betrayed me and used a succubus on me! -.

-And he told you he did it! – the succubus exclaimed almost too personally as if the thing personally shook her: he had been truthful with her, so he got a free ticked to exit the “you are an asshole” prison -… what I am trying to say is that his life would have been easier whether he hadn’t told you anything about the entire thing… he would have gotten the girl, but he chose to go down the harder path, knowing you would hate him for this-.

She was speechless, because she hadn’t thought about that in that perspective and although it wasn’t exactly a point in favor of Michael, she could see that he could have completely gotten the girl without much effort, hiding for ever that secret: it would have worked and it was a plan that would have perfectly suited arrogant Michael.

But why hadn’t he chosen it?

-You are miserable without him, and he is miserable without you… so… - the succubus batted her eyelashes as if this was the easiest of logics -… you should be together so you can be happy together-.

She didn’t need to word the question out, because the succubus answered it immediately:

-I might have this… call it prevision… that he might like you, more than as a fuckbuddy-.

-He is still an asshole- she replied, because even if she excused him, this would take a long time to be solved.

-It wouldn’t be funny if he wasn’t- replied the succubus, before offering her hand -… we better hurry up, those sloth demons can be very different from their names-.

The succubus followed her staying invisible to her and her friends, meanwhile she questioned Michael’s asking for his whereabouts and she alerted John Henry.

“Is it necessary?” had mumbled the succubus, in her ear, after she had alerted the older warlock, with the excuse of “Langdon probably has some bug in his stomach, he retreated early”.

“Do you have any knowledge on how to kill a demon more than me and him?” the succubus had stayed silent “Then professor Moore comes with us”.

“Wouldn’t you be enough?”.

It depended on whether Michael had opened a gate of hell or just a small door, and it was always good to have back up.

And also, if this was a ploy made by Michael to get her to fall in his arms, she would have been saved by John Henry.

Play me once, shame on you.

Play me twice, shame on me.

She rushed through the stairs, meanwhile the warlock tried to keep her pace behind her, screaming to go slower “or she would break a leg and there would two wounded in the infirmary”.

-… I honestly don’t think that I am the most appropriate person for this…-mumbled the warlock, clearly missing the punch he had previously spiked -… you have much better healers-.

She had chosen John Henry because she knew that he could keep a secret and knew reservation better than Hawthorne’s rules, whereas alerting Cordelia would have gotten both her and Michael in trouble.

-… I just thought it would be appropriate to make Michael be visited by a male- she honestly knew it sounded as a lie, but they were five minutes from Michael’s room and she just needed for the warlock to open the door, mostly because she already could smell the stench of rotten eggs.

“What the heck did you do, Michael?” she mumbled, mentally, thinking that if she ever thought about a relationship with him, she would have burned all his demonology books.

They immediately rushed feeling inhuman screams and when they opened the door the succubus mumbled an “oh shit” in her ear, meanwhile John Henry straight up went:

-… you said it was a bug, (L/N)? – and looked at the demons who were covering Michael’s furniture, in the form of bugs, indeed -… because there are many more and those aren’t normal bugs…-.

“… those are Damnation Beasts” murmured the succubus in her ear, before retreating slowly when a bug crawled towards her “… they eat human skin, I would stay away from them”.

-Thank you for your suggestion- she said between gritted teeth, looking around the room for any sign of Michael, but there were none and this made her heart sunk.

It hadn’t been a ploy to get her to go back to him and…

… what if she had been a minute too late and Michael had already been eaten by the Damnation Beasts and whatever had exited the door he had left open?

-(L/N) might you think about lending me a hand to kill all those insects- mumbled John Henry, meanwhile he shielded them with a protection spell.

-Yes, of course…- but she was halfway through and overthinking attack “where the hell was Michael?!” -… I am just…-.

-… panicking? – humored her the man, meanwhile he joined their hands -… just follow me, (L/N)-.

She nodded, knowing that she would try her best to at least avoid those beasts going around her school, and then she could think about Michael… she hoped.

The succubus’ hand went around her protectively, hissing badly at the flesh-easting bastards, meanwhile she repeated each Latin word John Henry uttered, till a strong blow of energy emerged from both of them, making her close her eyes for the intensity of it and when she opened them, there was nothing left of the insects, but it wasn’t done.

John immediately moved toward Michael’s bed, immediately grabbing an open book, from where a bat shaped demon was trying to escape just to get pushed back in by John, meanwhile the man muttered curses and enchantments, she honestly couldn’t tell the difference.

Bu she also couldn’t tell where Michael had been: there was no trace of him… and she was seriously starting to panic…

… and that made her hurt more than the thought of him rejecting her or tricking her.

She looked around, anxiety taking over till she finally saw Michael on the threshold looking at them confused.

-Just a demonic infestation, nothing out of the ordinary, Langdon- mumbled John Henry adjusting his hair, but Michael hadn’t seen the most surprising thing ever yet, with the way she basically threw herself at him, too worried about the fact that she had almost lost him.

He immediately tightened the hold, immerging himself in the crook of her neck, meanwhile she could feel the succubus snicker.

-You are alive- she mumbled, caressing his face as if to make sure he was real, meanwhile he grabbed her hand to bring it to his lips.

-… and you are not pissed with me anymore? – he seemed surprised again, as if he hadn’t realized she just thought he was lost forever, but before she could answer properly, John spoke up.

-… I am, you get detention, Mr Langdon, and you will have to pass me every demonology book you own- he affirmed meanwhile Michael tried to protest, saying that those books were his and nobody…

-…I will personally bring them to you, Mr Moore- she replied to John, meanwhile sending a look to Michael which clearly said “it’s either this or I set fire to them and you together”, which made him relent.

-… and you are also in detention, Mrs (L/N), I honestly don’t know what you have to do with this, but a lot of amazing spiked punch was wasted to solve this…- he mumbled, rolling his eyes, before eyeing the succubus as if he could see her, which he was actually doing -… and if the lady wants to join me, I can assure her the best night of her life-.

She honestly didn’t need to see her teacher smirking at the succubus who had her appearance (although she was sure it had a different appearance to John Henry, since it usually mimicked the appearance of the beloved by its beholder), and the succubus smirked back.

-Are they flirting? -Michael asked meanwhile she just tried to erase this memory from the night.

“Just give me a minute, handsome” replied the succubus softly and purring, sending a kiss on his way and turning around towards her and Michael “Have fun, lovelies! And be safe, he is a manchild so remember con…!”.

She petrified the succubus in her place, sending her an annoyed huff, before the succubus disappeared with a light laugh and in a twirl of smoke.

-… that was traumatizing…-.

-You weren’t here five minutes ago witnessing the literal demonic bug infestation in your room, so you can’t talk- she replied, meanwhile turning around to avoid being so close to him, her skin already tingling at the memory of how they had been embraced early -… next time, close whatever you are doing before starting to jerk off-.

He erupted in laughter and she did the same a few second back, grabbing her aching belly, clearly proved by what had happened that night: a confession, a demonic infestation and her teacher flirting with a succubus version of herself…

Well, at least life with Michael was always interesting.

-I will keep it mind, next time- he mumbled, meanwhile strolling in his room and starting to collect books, old leather and pentagrams on them told her they were the famous demonology books -… thank you for saving my life, although I do not deserve it-.

-You are an asshole not a waste of time, don’t misunderstand me- because no matter what he did, she couldn’t hate, she couldn’t stay away, it would hurt too much, so the best way was to clear things up and start again, start over and not forget about anything but try to move past it -… I would have honestly preferred that you came up to me and asked me out, but you went for the succubus method, which is… a bit fucked up… but we can work around it if you promise two things…-.

He stopped whatever he was doing, moving closer and kneeling down on the soft carpeted floor, in a worshipping attitude, his hands half a touch from setting down on her hips, but they kept to themselves for which she was grateful; she wasn’t sure she could handle his touch.

-Ask me the sun and the moon, and they shall be yours- he proclaimed reverently, getting an amused glare from her.

-… ok, now it’s three things: stop being melodramatic for the love of God, it’s annoying- she mumbled, throwing her hands in the air and rolling her eyes.

-C’mon, it’s making you laugh! – he replied, protesting weakly, too blinded by her smile, the intensity of him was suddenly too much for her and warmth came to her chilled bones.

-… let me talk in peace, ok? – she pleaded, knowing a look at his azure eyes would get her forgetting about all this -… first thing: you promise not to use magic on me, no matter what, because if you do, we are done and I will let Madison castrate you, got me? -.

He immediately nodded, not even slightly smiling at the Madison’s mention, but he honestly looked ready to take an oath and she couldn’t help but feel like he was indeed making an oath to her.

-… second: no matter what, we talk things, we don’t hide them between each other’s back, got me? – she knew honesty and faith in the other were the only thing that might have made this relationship work out… maybe… -… and even these things might make me not want to forgive you, understood? -.

Because she had been worried for him, but now that her mind was again cold and down to Earth, she was still wounded for his little “trick”.

But she also felt comforted that, in the end, he had chosen not to take the hoax too far.

-What I want to do right now is get to know you, like real people do, with no succubus or magic- he seemed the most sincere she had ever seen him -… I swear on whatever I might hold dear to my heart, that I will respect your rules and you-.

She just nodded, feeling that it had been enough adventurous and heartbreaking for her to retire to her chamber, but just as she was moving out of his room, she heard a whine of protest, turning around to see a disgruntled Michael:

-What is it? – she asked curious and wondering if there were still some of those flesh-eating assholes.

-We just made a deal, and it’s always good to seal it with a kiss- he mumbled cockily, looking very intensively to her pink lips, a bit swollen from the time she had spent biting them and from which a loud laugh erupted, at his affirmation.

-Have a good night with your right hand, Langdon- she replied, turning again around and flicking him her middle finger -… don’t let the flesh-eating demons bite your ass-.

Three months in a relationship with Langdon was something she had never thought of having.

And honestly it had been much easier than what she had suspected.

Not that it had been without any difficulties (one being the fact that Michael was a manchild and would constantly insist on cuddle even in the middle of a studying session) but Michael had never ever broken the rules she had given him (except the one against him being a drama queen, but she couldn’t actually say nothing when it got her one of the best dates ever, under the stars, music playing form the speakers they had set…).

So, it was only natural it all came down to that night.

Her and Michael had joined her friends in the common room, to chat a bit in a comfortable atmosphere, since they had all finished their final exams, which prompted them to let loose, embracing each other’s partners in the chaise-longue or on the sofa.

Soft conversations went on till they became pure nonsense and soon everybody went back to their respective room, except her and Michael: she had slowly made her way onto his lap, meanwhile he gently caressed her back, tracing mindless patterns and he gently traced his lips across her neck, a sweet caress which promised much more, igniting her core.

No matter the physical closeness they had slowly reached through their nights together, in her bed (because his held much more painful memories) mumbling nonsense and philosophical conversations or falling asleep at first as far as they could, not trusting their bodies, just to find themselves tangled in each other’s arms, the following morning.

But nothing sexual had been going on, and she almost regretted that her personal succubus had disappeared.

Still, she was happy of the new relationship which had grown between her and Michael a more genuine one, based on the mutual respect of each other and a tiny (huge) dose of trust.

He loved her and, slowly, she had started feeling the exact same for him, not scared of being hurt anymore.

And because of that she was finally ready to take the last step.

She slowly brought her hand to link it with his, but she went even farther bringing his hand slowly closer and closer to her center, slipping it under her skirt, making him feel her throbbing core, slightly wet due to the attraction and sexual frustration mixed with the stress of exams.

-… what is the meaning of this? – Michael asked, surprised, but his hand made no signs to move away, meanwhile his eyes became pitch black because of lust, and she gently brushed his hand on her, feeling herself became wetter under his soft ministrations, the blue of her thong slowly becoming darker because of the wet patch on it.

-Sweetie, I thought you were smarter than that- she replied, giggling to hide her embarrassment, although she had done the first move, she still didn’t know if Michael would like that approach or if he would be scared from it: boys were always intimidated by strong women.

And she half wanted to pull her hand away, when he took control, his fingers brushing away the silky feelings of her panties to brush the real thing, much softer than the fabric.

But he was a very well-developed man…

… when he wanted to…

She brought her hands down, taken by surprise at that gesture and not knowing how to react: she had been touch-starved for so long, only fulfilling her desires through her small fingers (which were nothing compared to Michael’s skilled ones) and the sudden touch scared her and excited her at the same time.

-… I think you are trying to seduce me, Mrs (L/N)- he mumbled, before he again dived into her neck, but this time he bit it, without any gentleness, he wanted to mark her down, meanwhile his fingers pushed themselves further, not inside of her but they started taking in her most sacred place, collecting sticky wetness which was quick to form, under Michael’s ministrations -… aren’t you, sweetheart? -.

She just nodded, shyly, a bit at trouble with speaking due to his expert hands working her gently but with enough perseverance that she felt something grow in her stomach, small waves of pleasure, still too little to make her lose her mind, but enough to keep her distracted, even more when he stared at her expectantly, those pool of azure eyes looking at any sign of discomfort.

-Words, (Y/N)- he insisted, knowing that she was speechless -… I need those in order to know what you want-.

-Which is you, by the way- he had relented his grasp on her, his fingers stilling, but right on her clit, provoking small and constant waves of pleasure, and she spoke in sarcasm something she was very fluent in -… I wanted you for so long and I have had enough of dancing around this-.

He laughed, gentleness shining in his eyes, before he leaned down to kiss her, retreating their mixed hands from her skin, which prompted her protest to be slowly brought up from her mouth to his and it made him smirk in the kiss.

They separated slowly, after they had sealed their path.

-… if we are going to do this…- his word let out her time to go back and reject this situation, but she didn’t -… I would like a bed, where to take you gently, as in your worst romance novel-.

-I am still ashamed that you found my stack of erotica- she blushed, and he leaned down to kiss the blush from both her cheeks, just resulting in her cheeks becoming far more warmer, meanwhile he gently brushed his excitement coated fingers against her thighs, cleaning them in her mouth, which she opened for him, sucking on them sensually or at least she tried.

She knew she had succeeded when Michael raised her up alongside him, his bulge pressing against her front, the evidence that she hadn’t been the only one affected by this.

-… I am not- he replied, giggling, meanwhile she grasped his neck to keep herself steady on him, her legs tangling automatically against his sides -… now I know what you like in bed: a very bad stall…-.

-Finish that phrase and they will never find your body- she replied, blushing at her horrible taste in books, but Michael just hugged her tighter, showing support no matter what.

-I love you, even if you have a terrible taste in bookish genres- he just confessed, nuzzling his nose against hers, before another butterfly kiss which left her wanting more.

-I love you, even though you are the biggest tease- she replied, before trying to piston her feet against him to make him go faster as indeed… a “stallion”.

He just kissed her forehead, before setting her down, their hands moved closer, linking themselves together immediately, before they moved off to his chamber, hers wouldn’t be proper, since she shared it with Madison and if with tonight she wished to delete anything that occurred in the past, she could stay in his room and avoid the thought that this is where he rejected her.

He felt her insecurity, strolling through her veins and shining in her eyes, and as soon as they were behind closed door: he pushed her against the door, shielding her head gently and kissing her passionately.

Her legs were pulled against his side, meanwhile he grinned himself against her, making the kiss become more sloppy and lazy, open mouthed with his tongue lazily exploring hers, trailing his teeth against her bottom lips, pulling on it, and meeting her eyes in the darkest of expression, his desire coursing through their mouths, meanwhile he pushed himself with such a savage fierceness, as if he wanted to penetrate her in that moment.

She was the first one to pull away, in desperate need of air.

He allowed it, but his hands started to occupy themselves with more important matters: her clothes.

He disrobed her gently, but each piece of skin meant new excitement shining in his eyes, like a child, finally allowed to eat candies… and he laced to one of her nipples immediately, without even properly unlacing her bra, just letting it hang out around her waist, with her shirt thrown off somewhere, not that she had followed its course, when she had the beautiful masterpiece of Michael Langdon sucking her nipples as if his life depended on it under her eyes.

His golden curls, obscuring the view, but they only caressed her skin, heightening her sensations.

-… you taste like the sweetest of honey- he mumbled, finally retreating himself, in the pause before he latched himself to her other nipple -…and you look like the proudest goddess-.

-What did I say about pretty words? – she just huffed, meanwhile a moan was brought out of herself.

-… they excite you- mumbled the bastard, smirking, meanwhile flicking roughly a nipple with his tongue, his hand going under her skirt again, skimming gently over her wetness as if to make her even more aware of what he had just said.

-I have a praise kink- she mumbled pushing herself closer against him -… what can I do babe? -.

He kissed her forehead, giggling gently, before he moved with her towards his plush bed, pushing her down on it, meanwhile he joined her so they could keep doing what they were doing before, with much more ease.

There, time felt so slow, no rushed touches anymore, no matter the fact that they were aching for each other.

And she had a chance to have her own turn with Michael, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, kissing every new inch of piece of skin, meanwhile her fingers tangled with his hair, him becoming mildly calm under her soft ministration, meanwhile he finally unclasped her bran and unzipped skirt, pushing it away, leaving her just in her blue panties.

And him in his dark briefs.

They met halfway again, this time the kiss was hungry and filled with pure gluttony of the other, searching for their most intimate taste, meanwhile their teeth clashed together.

And when they separated he tasted off her from her entire body, licking a big stripe of her skin with his tongue, from her collarbones to her ear, remaining there to suck a little hickey in her skin, before branding a few others on her skin, till she had enough to be mistaken for a unfortunate creature meeting a nest of mosquitos.

But she would deal with it in the morning, she had something more important in her mind.

She moved her hand in search of his length and when she met it, over the fabric, she stroked him gently stealing a breath from his mouth, which was swiftly pulled in a surprised expression, one that made her giggle, meanwhile she dosed his neck of kisses, tracing with her other hand his collarbones.

Her ministrations didn’t stop.

She remembered still the way he had teased her when she had been on his lap.

She wasn’t even in the slightest merciful: she slipped her hand in his boxer but just a few moments, enough to spread the pre-cum forming on its tip on her palm, but pulling it away swiftly, much to Michael’s protests.

And he decided to take the situation in his hands, switching their positions.

-…  my little virgin wants to play- he mumbled, his hands trapping hers, much littler than his -… well I shall not neglect her desires anymore-.

And he moved down on her, till he came in contact with her little panties, pushing them back with the hand that wasn’t holding her down.

She helped him get them out her legs twisting to accompany his movement but as soon as his face was the closest to her mound she pulled him up, protesting.

-I want to taste you- her voice seemed so wanton that she even surprised herself at her own affirmation, but Michael just sweetly smiled at her.

-You did, last time, we were together- he remembered her, meanwhile gently pushing her hair out of her face, to look at her face without it being in the way, the softness in his face, brought her to want another little kiss, her lips pouting a bit -… and I miss your taste-.

She blushed, meanwhile he just smirked, his hands moving against her front, gently cupping one of her breasts and then an idea hit her.

-I might have had an idea that might make both of us happy- she’d have to thank all the erotica books if it worked, if it didn’t, she could blame it all on them -… but I need to switch our positions-.

And jokingly she switched their positions, rolling on him, and being on top, swiftly moving till she was facing his bulge, meanwhile she carefully positioned her mound over his face, waiting for him to approve her idea, which came faster than she thought, when he reached up to lick a long strip of her, from the skin that linked her rosy hole to her clit.

She moaned out, almost losing her grip on him, but she quickly recovered, slipping him out of his briefs, hearing a trembling moan leaving his lips, but he suffocated it in her center, pushing his tongue into her most sacred area, just to retrieve more slick and suck on her little pearl.

And this started a challenge between them, not for their own pleasures but for the other’s.

She started teasing him at first with just her hand, caressing him with regard for his most sensitive areas, before her mouth gently engulfed him.

She did it slowly at first, only tasting the tip, trying to focus her best on his pleasure, but waves of pleasure were soon building in her stomach, because of Michael’s careful attention, meanwhile he was trying to imprint every piece of skin of her most sacred center.

And drink her as if she was spilling ambrosia.

She took much more, a bit annoyed by her hair, falling on her face, but she tried her best, feeling Michael moan in her mound, even take a moment, when she licked the tip, before swiftly pushing herself down the entirety of it, her hands massaging his balls.

They knew they had been bringing each other’s to their relative peaks, but they didn’t dare to give up, as if it was seriously a competition.

And she won it, although she didn’t make Michael cum, but he let go the self-imposed calm he had chosen to tease her to devour her.

And she came.

A rough scream in her mouth and her entire body trembling, enough that she fell on his body, unable to resist, meanwhile her entire body shut down due to pleasure coursing through the entirety of it.

And when she regained consciousness, Michael gently guided her through it, his fingers gently caressing her arms, meanwhile he breathed slowly to make her mimic the pace.

-… that was intense- much more intense than last time, with a freaking succubus.

-I want to say that it is because we love each other, but if I so much as try to be romantic you will knock all my teeth out- he mumbled sweetly, meanwhile he cradled her close and, still feeling boneless due to the mind shattering orgasm.

She giggled, blindly reaching out for him, to kiss him gently, meanwhile she tangled her fingers in his hair, swapping a bit of her taste with her.

-You can say “I love you”, I won’t punch you for that- she mumbled, on his lips feeling the laugh on it and there she opened her eyes, finding him looking at her enamored, meanwhile he whispered softly:

-I love you- and with his eyes completely azure for his honesty she couldn’t deny him the matching and heartfelt reply.

-I love you too- she kissed him again, feeling him against her thigh (which ruined a bit the mood, but… she had also accepted that with that relationship) still hard and she remembered what they were there for -… and I am ready-.

He kissed her for what felt ages, as if he wanted this to last forever.

And she honestly felt like the moment before it all happened was much more intense then the what followed, when Michael distanced himself from her, just a bit and she could still wrap her hands around him, to steady herself.

-… it might hurt a bit, so if you want to back out at any given moment, all you have to do is tell me- he caressed her thighs gently, and under his hands, goosebumps appeared, meanwhile she nodded slowly.

-I know it- she replied shyly, meanwhile kissing his cheek moving closer to his ear -… I trust you so much Michael-.

With other guys she had never felt ready, because she was scared that it might disappoint her, that it might tarnish her but worst of all she just felt like it might just not be that special, not worth the wait and after it was done, there would be nothing more.

But she lived for Michael, the sweet touches they shared, the laughs which erupted because of their dumb thoughts, and she knew that no matter what, this wasn’t the end… it was just a natural step, the most natural… and even if her and Michael ended up not being a thing… she wouldn’t have wanted to lose her virginity to anyone else.

-… I won’t betray it- he mumbled, meanwhile he gently kissed the back of her hand, tenderly nuzzling his nose against it -… you are the most precious thing that ever happened to me-.

-No silly words, remember? – she laughed shyly, but answered -… you are the best thing that happened to me-.

And with that… their paths was sealed and he kissed her one last time, meanwhile his hands checked her wetness, only enticed by their soft moment, before gently breaching her entrance with the smooth tip of him, and she immediately tensed, meanwhile Michael guided her through it.

-… calm down, sweetie, you need to relax- and didn’t do anything till she indeed relaxed, pushing with much more gentleness, meanwhile he caressed her head and kneaded her breast to distract  her which worked perfectly and he was able to push halfway in, touching her barrier.

Before proceeding, he took a last look at her face, no show of pain and no tension, just a relaxed and curious expression and before shredding her last inch of innocence he kissed her, feeling her bite his bottom lip to suppress the pain.

-Do I …? – he felt the need to stop, she knew it, no matter that his face was distorted in pleasure.

-Just give me a few minutes- she mumbled, meanwhile she tried her best to slowly adjust herself, to Michael’s length, scared by the fact that it wasn’t all in and it was already overwhelming her -… please don’t move-.

-All the time in the world- he replied, meanwhile he gently kissed her forehead.

Slowly, much more slowly than the actual time that passed, she started not feeling the pain anymore, stuck in a limbo of “not-yet-pleasure” but “neither-still-in-pain”, but all she had to wait was for Michael to slowly move and something was struck inside her, the thrill of a little excitement.

-Move- she mumbled, even going as far as to push a bit Michael with the legs that had wrapped themselves around him -… for the love of God-.

-Got it! – he giggled, but she felt the clearly aroused bit in it and he actually started moving, slowly and then as she encouraged him with moans and her nails pushing themselves in her skin faster, her eyes finding his, finding him under a strange spell, hers.

He started groaning with much more impatience and his manhood throbbed inside of her and she knew he was close, and although she was excited and not in pain, she was so far away from that state of true ecstasy.

Not for long, at least, because Michael decided to take the matters in his hand, quite literally: gently caressing her clit, meanwhile he gently moved her legs up his shoulder hitting her further inside her, a spot that made her gasp at its sudden finding, meanwhile his peace also increased.

-… you don’t understand how beautiful you look- he whispered in her ear and she just nodded; the intensity of the new sudden sensation made her feel teary.

-Please please… keep going- she quivered, under him, meanwhile her legs tried to find a better way to adjust themselves on his shoulder, her muscles aching a bit, meanwhile she met him for a kiss, before pushing one down on his chest -Don’t stop-.

-You are so close, I can feel you clenching around me- and she could feel him throbbing, his pace becoming more erratic -… that’s the best feeling in the world-.

-… even better than my mouth around it? - she didn’t know where the dirty talk came from and she could see the surprise from Michael, but her dignity was long gone.

-A thousand times better- he replied, smirking, meanwhile she finally felt so close…-… I am close-.

-I am close too- she repeated, meanwhile her nails sink themselves in him, and she felt herself let go, no preparations needed, totally lost in the moment, just feeling warmth in her, meanwhile he groaned deeply in her ears, bringing her back to reality.

He fell ungracefully on top of her and she groaned loudly, before breathing out a breathy laugh.

-… that was…- he tried to breath, completely out of breath.

-… say it with your words honey- she made fun of him, but gently cuddled closer, feeling like as if she wasn’t attached to him anymore as she was before, although he was still in her, soft but in her.

-… we are going to have a second round, if you still have the energy to joke around- he joked, kissing her forehead, lovingly; there wasn’t even a bit of bite in his tone.

-Oh, you love when I am smarter than you- she fought back, meanwhile he gently exited her, making her leave out a grunt of pain at being empty.

-I love you, in general- he giggled -… a bit less when you are a smartass-.

And then he got up, on his knees, to collect the covers to shield her body, finally self-consciousness appearing so she was grateful to hide under them, also because she was honestly feeling more and more sleepy, both for the emotional stress and the physical one.

Michael immediately moved closer laying a kiss before he gently whispered that he would be getting in the bathroom to collect a few things in order to clean up, which he did gently, meanwhile cooing at her, throwing the towels in the laundry chest, avoiding make her take a look at the blood on it, but she could see it on the mattress.

She didn’t regret it.

Because in the end they were together in this, she knew it when he cuddled closer to her, bringing them together again, sleep slowly taking over.

In the end…

… with a little loss of her innocence.

… with a little loss of his dignity.

… he finally had a little gain of her.

---

Little disclaimer: the relationship between Reader and Michael started as dub-con, so I just wanted you to know that I don’t support or condone in any way, in real life, dyb-con or non-con; consent is important, never forget about it!

I really hope you will like it, lovelies!

Let me know what you thought about it, with DMs or asks or hearts or reblogs, I honestly love hearing all your thoughts!

 @ccodyfern @so-langdon @sojournmichael @rocketgirl2410 @langdonsplaytoy @dyns33 @blakewaterxx @crispygiantsaladgarden @counterculture-aesthetic @ace-fiction @langdons-little-girl @hadeslittlewhore @justabadwitch @ahstatejameskai @soph3218 @uinen-ulmiel @mega-combusken @hplotrfan @kleineshaschen @langdonsinferno  @nightsblackroses @tcc-gizmachine @msfandomblog @grim-adventures58 @littlepsychos-world @sister-langdon @grungyfeministhoe

[bloody-bee-tea]

Please Don’t Hate Me

Will I ever write anything else but Deter again? Who knows. You can read it here on AO3 or watch out for the read more, since it’s longer than 2.1k.

~*~*~

“Sorry, I just noticed how much you remind me of Talia,” Satomi said and suddenly everything made so much more sense.

Oh, Derek thought, oh, and he ducked his head, trying to hide the no doubt hurt look that flashed over his face.

It must have worked too, because Satomi smiled at him like what she had said was a good thing, like this was something he should be glad to hear, when all Derek could think was At least Peter didn’t leave me without a reason.

~*~*~

I’m sorry I remind you so much of her, Derek texted Peter later that night, when he was in the loft again, alone, like he had been since Peter had left.

Derek still didn’t know where Peter was, or what he was doing. He only knew that Peter never stayed and that he was never around Derek for longer than he absolutely had to.

It made sense now, at least.

Derek startled badly when his phone suddenly rang. Peter had been ignoring his texts for some time now, and eventually Derek had stopped trying. He could take a hint, after all, even if he sometimes was slow on the up-take.

“You’re sorry you remind me so much of who?” Peter asked as soon as Derek had accepted the call, not even bothering with any pleasantries.

“Talia. I know I remind you of her, and that it’s the reason you can’t stay. That it’s the reason you—,” can’t love me like you used to, Derek wanted to say but he bit down on those words. Because honestly, there was a whole list of reasons to pick from why Peter didn’t love him anymore, and Derek was too tired to have them all thrown into his face.

There was a telling silence on the other end of the line, and Derek looked down, biting his lip hard, so that he wouldn’t let out the desperate whine as soon as Peter started talking again. He just hoped that Peter would go with this reason to explain his continued absence and not start telling Derek all the other reasons he hated him now. It would be too much for Derek to take.

“I’m coming home,” Peter finally said, and promptly hung up on Derek, who stared at his phone for a long while afterwards.

He hadn’t known Peter still considered anything in Beacon Hills his home.

~*~*~

Derek was not impatiently waiting for Peter to come back. He had no clue where Peter had even been, so he didn’t know how long it would take him to come back, and he most certainly wasn’t always in view of the loft door.

Derek had tried to imagine what would happen once Peter did come back, and while before it had always ended with them being together again, he didn’t know what to expect now. He didn’t know why Peter would be coming back now after that phone call, what exactly motivated him, and so Derek had a thousand different scenarios to cycle through.

And yet nothing prepared him for that moment when Peter strolled into the loft, like it was his home, and he had never left for weeks on end.

“Peter,” Derek breathed out, too relieved to see him alive and well to be embarrassed by the needy note in his voice.

“What is going on?” Peter asked, demanded to know really, and Derek briefly had to smile at the lack of greetings from him.

“There’s no catastrophe at the moment,” Derek told him, even though he knew that wasn’t what Peter wanted to hear.

But Peter had sounded angry, and his voice had been hard, where it used to be all soft and gentle when he talked to Derek, and Derek wasn’t ready to have the reasons why Peter hated him listed. He never would be, and he wanted to drag it out for as long as he could. At least like this, in this limbo state, he could still pretend.

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” Peter snapped, but then he seemed to deflate. “Tell me what that phone call was about. Where did that come from?”

Derek clenched his jaw and straightened his shoulders before he spoke, raising his head high, so that Peter couldn’t see how much he just wanted to curl up and maybe cry a bit.

He missed Peter so much.

“Satomi was here,” he started, and he could see recognition on Peter’s face. “She told me how much I remind her of Talia. And—,” here Derek faltered, because it just hurt so much, “I know you hated her, so it’s not hard to make the connection.”

Derek couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, It’s not hard to make the connection that you hate me too, not to Peter’s face when he would have to see the truth there. Derek wasn’t strong enough to do that.

“What connection, pup?” Peter gently asked, and Derek briefly wondered when Peter became so cruel.

“Don’t make me say it,” he chocked out and Peter frowned at him, concern clear on his face and Derek could feel himself shatter under that look, could feel the words spill over.

“I know you hate me too, know that it’s the reason you leave, you always leave, because you can’t bear to be around me, can’t bear to look at me when I look so much like the sister you hate, but it’s not my fault, and I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to change how I look and I—,” Derek gasped for breath, could feel tears threaten to spill over and he ducked his head, trying to hide it from Peter.

But Peter was there, pulling him into a hug and shushing him, stroking his big warm hands up and down his back and Derek clung to him, desperate to keep him from leaving again.

“I don’t hate you, Derek, I could never hate you,” Peter whispered into his hair when he had stopped trembling quite so hard, and Derek couldn’t help but to scoff at that.

“I don’t, darling, listen to my heartbeat,” he insisted and waited a few moments until Derek nodded, signaling that he was listening, even though he really didn’t want to, and then Peter said it again. “I don’t hate you.”

Derek’s knees almost buckled when he heard Peter’s steady heartbeat, when he heard no lie in his words, but the relief was immediately washed away by confusion.

“Then why do you always leave me?” Derek asked, and his voice wobbled dangerously, but he couldn’t help it.

Peter always left, always left him alone, and he hadn’t so much as touched Derek the last time he had dropped by. There weren’t a whole lot of interpretations to that.

“I was looking for an alpha,” Peter said, and Derek was suddenly too numb to be hurt by that as well.

Peter was looking for a new pack without him.

Derek chuckled, because it should have been obvious. Peter would never submit to Scott as his alpha, and being an omega wasn’t doing either of them any good. Of course Peter was looking for a pack somewhere else, far away from Beacon Hills and Derek.

But still. Derek had never questioned the fact that they were pack, even when he thought Peter hated him, so having this slapped into his face. There was only so much he could take.

“Of course,” Derek muttered and pulled away from Peter, wrapping his arms around himself, though there wasn’t a whole lot left to keep together.

Derek was losing his family all over again.

“Of course,” Derek repeated, and he distantly realized that his voice was horribly flat. “I wish you luck with that.”

It was all he could say to Peter, was all he could muster up right now, and he was painfully aware of Peter’s searching gaze on him.

Derek wondered what else Peter wanted; he had already taken everything from him.

“I’m looking for an alpha to kill, Derek,” Peter softly whispered. “Not to join.”

Derek wasn’t sure he had heard him right, now with how the sudden rush in his ears almost drowned out his words, and he swayed forwards, to Peter, always to Peter.

“I would never leave you, darling. You’re my only family,” Peter said and cupped Derek’s cheeks with his hands.

Derek was dangerously close to getting whiplash if Peter kept this up, but before he could say something, Peter went on.

“You’re my love, my heart, my everything. I’ve been looking for an alpha to kill so that we can leave, so that we can be a proper pack again.”

“Why didn’t you say so,” Derek desperately whispered, because Peter had never explained, had only always left Derek behind, and this now was almost too much to comprehend and believe for Derek right now.

Peter kissed the corners of Derek’s eyes, where tears had escaped, and Derek whined high in his throat at that.

“That was my mistake,” Peter admitted. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you my plan, but I was afraid you would frown upon murder.”

There was a hint of a joke in his voice and Derek chuckled wetly at it, too, but he also tightened his grip on Peter’s wrists, and pressed their foreheads together. He didn’t want Peter to leave, ever.

“I love you, sweetheart. I always have, and I always will.”

“But the resemblance—,” Derek started but then trailed off, because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know if Peter had a hard time looking at him.

“I honestly never noticed,” Peter reassured him. “Sure, you have the same dark hair as your mother, but that’s about it. You’re nothing like her.”

Derek had been carrying that worry with him all this time, ever since Satomi had mentioned it to him, and he felt blessedly weightless now that Peter had dispelled it.

“Promise me you won’t leave again,” Derek whispered, still desperate to keep Peter with him, to keep him close and never let him leave.

Peter pulled him flush against his body, wrapping his arms around Derek and keeping him there. Derek pressed his face to his neck, inhaling deeply when he noticed the softly sweet note of Peter’s love for him.

“I won’t, I promise you, pup. We’ll leave together, and we’ll find somewhere else to live and to be happy,” Peter said, and Derek clutched at his sides.

“I love you so much,” Derek breathed, and Peter slid one hand into Derek’s hair, scratching his nails over his scalp.

“I love you, too,” Peter immediately answered, even though he had just said it a few moments ago, but Derek was far from complaining. He wanted to hear it again and again, for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry I ever made you doubt that,” Peter gently said, and Derek could hear the regret in his voice, knew it to be true from his steady heartbeat.

Peter had never meant to hurt him.

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” Derek replied, and Peter used the hand in his hair to pull his head back a little bit, pressing little kisses all over his face.

He lingered, when he finally reached Derek’s lips, pressed a second, third, fourth kiss there, always keeping it soft and gentle, and Derek sighed into the contact.

He had missed this; had missed Peter and their closeness and his touch and his love.

“I’ve got you,” Peter whispered right before he kissed Derek again, parting his lips this time and licking into his mouth.

Derek clutched at Peter’s shoulders, overwhelmed with Peter and he whined high in his throat when Peter pulled away.

“We have time, I’m right here,” Peter reassured him, sliding their cheeks together and just breathing for a second.

Derek breathed with him, noticing how fast and unsteady his breaths were, how his hands were shaking where they were still holding on to Peter.

“I’m pretty sure I have emotional whiplash,” Derek muttered after a few minutes of enjoying Peter’s closeness.

“I think so, too,” Peter said, smile audible in his voice. “I hear the cure for that can be cuddling.”

Derek immediately nodded, because cuddling sounded perfect. He wasn’t sure he could take anything more today, and he was glad Peter seemed to pick up on that.

“Come on, my heart,” Peter said and brushed his lips over Derek’s one last time, before he pulled away and steered Derek towards his bedroom.

Derek went easily, already looking forward to having his space smell like them again, without having to fear that it would fade over time.

Derek was sure Peter wouldn’t let it.

[moonfox281]

Jaydick, Angel Dick with Grim Reaper Jason maybe? Please^^

Limbo

(Word count: 8710)

AO3 Link 

“…now at the scene of the shooting, 5 men were killed, and a woman was sent to a local hospital approximately one hour ago. The police do have a suspect, and they say they’re closing in on that person…”

Winter rain always came down the harshest. The air stung with humidity, like mold and day-old bread. When the cars raced over the streets, Dick leaned forward, trying to catch the lines between the high pitch of the sirens.

Busy, this city had always been. Like when night fell, it breached its full strength, like flowers blooming under the sunlight, under the moonlight, the vivid night sky, this city, these people wrote their stories.

Dick didn’t know why he loved watching them, these creatures. He just did, like a born instinct, like spreading his wings or lifting an arm. There shouldn’t be much reason to come to a liking with this kind. Human, they are messy, chaotic, and stupidly arrogant.

Yet, they were Father’s greatest creation.

“You’ve been watching long enough.”

He didn’t turn back, just stared down. From the edge of the rooftop, the city at night appeared oddly beautiful. He shouldn’t be surprised, this city was a popular land in the Underworld community, greater count than any other place in the area, to the point that maybe even the Lord of Hell himself must wonder what in the world these people were doing to each other.

Gotham city was the greatest beacon point in the map of duty for Underworld sacred workers. And Gotham city, this very city, was the base of operations of one grim reaper.

“Angel.” Jason greeted, a bare grunt that sounded like he was inviting Dick down to Hell.

“Busy night?” Dick asked, he didn’t need to look to notice Jason’s mortal disguise. Biker jacket and cargo pants; after decades his appearance had barely changed.

“This place?” He huffed. “Always.”

They stood and watched again in silence. Up here, all the way at the top of Gotham’s greatest skyscraper, everything seemed so lively. Sirens from everywhere, and if Dick focused, he could spot every cry, every conversation, every little noise technology made, every story, everything. And instead of the gift this power was, being here, listening like this, it suddenly turned into a curse.

Madness this place was. There were nights when it made it felt like the end of the world with gunshots, screaming, bloodbath, sirens, explosions, people slaughtering each other, all for what, a good laugh.

His mind had drifted off so far, he could barely flinch when Jason moved closer.

Jason put his hand up, half grinning like a devil. “Ah, don’t you look at me like that. I just wanna see what you’re catching.”

“Stop joking around. You can hear it too.” Dick grunted.

“And that’s where you’re wrong. I listen because it’s my job. But Dickie, your power, such a gift wasn’t made for this.” He stepped closer, didn’t even budge, just lifted a brow up when Dick’s hand fisted and a blade came out.

“Oh now you’re just offending me. It’s rude to fight, we’re supposed to balance the world, not to pour more fire into this chaos.”

“Didn’t stop you from trying before.”

“You mean the kid?” Jason laughed. “Come on, he started it. A half-blood like that, I didn’t even sense any paradisal aspect from him. Tell me, can he even grow wings?”

Dick lashed out before Jason said more. And Jason expected it, the grin never left his lips when he summoned his scythe.

This shouldn’t be their routine, but it was.

“Come on, be serious. Show me your wings.”

“Not in your dreams.”

Dick pushed back, retreating his blades. Jason stood like he was waiting for more. He had always hungered for more. That was probably why Ras gave this city to him because no one could handle Gotham like Jason did, and no one could satisfy Jason like Gotham did.

Talia and Ras didn’t realize that, together, they had created a bigger threat than both of them could imagine, not until it was too late. But honestly, had she ever learned? Because quickly after Jason, she and Bruce knew how to make both Heaven and the Underworld shake with the birth of Damian.

Talk about chaos, were they, the immortals, really any different from these being under their guards?

Dick heaved a sigh and turned on his heels. He could feel Jason’s confusion splash on him, could feel him slowly turn angry, because when had he not?

“That’s’ it? You’re just gonna walk away? Like that?”

At this point, Jason sounded like he was ready to rip worlds apart. It must have been an easy night for him, with that much energy, he was dying to pour it all out on Dick.

Well, it might have been an easy night for him, but not for Dick. So before Jason could scream more, he spread his wings and flew away.

The next time they met Jason was on duty. A man was found dying in an apartment, kidnapped and murdered. But of course, he wasn’t there to deal with that. Soon enough, his clock ran out, and Jason grabbed and pulled his soul out of his body.

There was no second thought, no hesitation. The man looked dazed and frightened when seeing his own body lying lifeless in a pool of blood, and he himself was being grabbed by Jason, whose cloak was out, in his work uniform. Under the darkness of his hood, his eyes glowed with Hell’s fire, green and blade-sharp.

“Am I dead?” The man shook.

Without a word, Jason nodded. His palm spread, and his scythe was called. The man shrunk smaller under the appearance of the Reaper’s tool, giant and intimidating, with a curved blade, ripped bandages on the handle, and glowing runes of wisdom, words of choice.

The wish, the relief, or the end.

Death, had always been just that simple.

Jason sprung his scythe, and tore the air. A cut was created, and a gate was called, the gate to Limbo, where judgments were made, to decide whether a soul would go to Heaven or down to Hell. Jason opened the door for the man, and waited.

He looked lost, frightened, and regretful. All of them looked like that when it was time. He looked back at his corpse, wishing it was a dream, then looked back at Jason and realized it was not. They always hesitated, always lingered, because it wasn’t an easy decision to make.

“What if I go to Hell?” The man asked, the everyday question Jason answered.

“That’s not my decision to make. But if you stay, you won’t be able to reincarnate.”

“So there is that thing.” The man huffed, dazed and uncertain. “But my life, my wife and kids. I’ve still got my wife and kids.”

Jason didn’t express anything, he just stood there, keeping the door open for the man. With his hood on, it was hard to see anything but his glowing eyes.

“If you stay, you’ll stay a ghost, and slowly, you’ll fade away, once you disappear, no reincarnation is possible anymore.”

“Who gives a damn about reincarnation, I need to be there for them. Without me, who would they‒ Please, my kids, my wife…”

“If you stay close to them in spiritual form, slowly, your soul will suck the life out of them. They’ll go weak and ill. Is that what you want?”

Desperation painted ugly on the man’s face. Tears started to shimmer in his eyes and he sobbed the most painful sounds.

Jason stepped aside, keeping the door open wider, and slowly, he urged the mortal forward.

“Go to Limbo, once there, your fate will be decided. The sooner you reincarnate, the sooner you’ll be in the same world with your kids and wife.”

That was, if he could reincarnate. If Hell chose him, his soul would serve the deserved sentence until the Court decided he was qualified to reincarnate. And even if he went to Heaven and passed all the blessings before his new life, his rebirth would be in another form, maybe in another country, another gender, and possibly he would never get to know his wife and kids anymore.

But of course, none of that should be told. Jason wasn’t technically lying, and if he did lie, he had the power to anyway. His job wasn’t to remain sacred and pure, his job was to the get the dead to Limbo, and guide souls down to Hell, in whatever way possible.

In the end, the man accepted. He took steps ahead, stopped abruptly to look back at his own corpse when Jason pressed behind him and stopped him midway.

“Don’t look.” He whispered. “The longer you linger, the harder it’ll be.”

And that was it. The man took one last step, down to the dark gate that greeted him. And just like that, Jason shut the door, waved his scythe, and cut the air. The crack closed, and the gate disappeared. Once the gate was closed, it would never be opened again.

All the changes happened swiftly, and then nothing was there, all that was left was an empty corpse, ready to be found. Dick didn’t know why he kept watching, didn’t know why his head didn’t immediately come up with an excuse when Jason appeared behind his back, walking out from the wind.

“Angel.” He greeted, the usual name, same mocking tone. He didn’t change back, his cloak floating around in the air like black smoke, ripped and worn out from centuries of serving. In the Underworld, the older your cloak the bigger your weapon, and the bigger your weapon, the more powerful you became. So far, Jason’s scythe beat every Reaper’s blade Dick had come across.

“Spying on me? The great head angel Richard? I’m honored.”

For Father’s sake, Dick wished him to just shut up.

“You’ve been busy lately.”

“It’s Gotham, I’m always busy. But you, the hell are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in ages and now suddenly you’re here twice in a week?”

Dick bit his lip, looking down and not at Jason staring at him. “Field study.”

Jason laughed, honest to god, laughed. He barked out the sound like Dick just told him a wicked joke.

“Field study? The only one that needs to get his sanctimonious ass down here and watch is Bruce.”

“Jason!” Dick hissed, scandalized.

“What? Is he even watching now? His dearest soldier is down here getting his wings all dirty while talking to a bloody Reaper like me‒”

“Oh for Heaven’s sake.” Dick ran out of patience. His feet were already on their way when Jason grabbed his arm and twisted him back.

“Don’t you turn your back on me. You watched me. You fucking watched me. You don’t get to watch then walk away when I actually pay some attention.”

Dick grunted and jerked his arm back. “I told you, field study. I’m not down here to play, and especially not to be your target so you can rain down your tantrum on Bruce.”

Jason stood still and slowly, his hand drew back and hung low. He didn’t try to reach out for Dick, and when he spoke again, it felt like Dick had done something wrong.

“So that’s it? Just work?”

Dick swallowed and nodded. “Just work.”

Jason looked hurt somehow, even when he was near invincible. Reapers’ powers were destructive, powerful and raw, that was why they were the guardians of the gates to the spirit world, and for the same reason they could never go up. Destruction was forbidden in Heaven, and Dominions like Dick were blessed with powers not to destroy, but to protect.

Jason looked away, and then down. Slowly, his cloak faded into dust, and his mortal vessel formed. Everything was the same, every line and edge on his face, every hair except for the white streaks, everything except for the clothes.

“That man,” He started after the uncomfortable silence they shared. “The man I just sent to Limbo. He’s going to Heaven. I can tell.”

And Dick believed him. Despite Bruce’s stubborn morals, Dick understood the right and wrong in Jason’s judgment.

“Thank you.”

Even when it wasn’t his job to bless the souls before reincarnating anymore, it hadn’t been for a long time, but still, Dick didn’t know how to bid a goodbye before leaving.

The day Dick led the carriages down to take the souls the whole of Limbo was there. The reincarnation ceremony was always the biggest event of this world, a glorified day for the good and humble ones to go to Heaven, to receive the Angels’ blessing, then to step into the lake of their reformation of a new life, a new start.

It had been years since Jason had seen Dick in his full form. Through the clad of his golden armor, with silver swords in his hands, he could feel Jason’s eyes piercing through him, somewhere hidden in the crowd. He knew how to be invisible, how to draw himself away from all the fame and attention, even when Grim Reaper was an honorable title that only worthy souls could ever deserve. Reapers couldn’t be made, but had to be chosen.

Father had his way of doing things, and sometimes even his blood children like Dick couldn’t understand him.

The other Angels following him landed on the pillars circling the hall, but Dick flew down toward it, landing right on the rock in front of the blind of the waterfall, the water source that came all the way from Heaven, reaching through the clouds that could never be seen all the way from down here. He let his wings swipe and dip down in the water, felt the gold flakes fall from them and dust the air. In the light of the sun Clark created, his feathers shone a milky white, with rainbows reflecting on them every time they moved like sunlight on water.

Bruce once told him, too long ago, when he had still been too little and frequently got knocked down on his ass by the weight of his own heavy wide wings, that angel’s wings represented their power and responsibility. The bigger and wider they were, the more you took after Father, and the more gifted you were. And he also remembered himself growing up looking after Bruce’s thick wings like some kind of honorific symbol of power and glory.

The older he got, the more those words faded into nothing in the back of his mind.

Once Dick took the first step on the water, the whole of Limbo bowed, and there he was, standing tall and still. Jason looked straight at him in the eyes, no hiding, no hesitation, in the middle of the bowing crowd, he stayed on his feet with his head held high.

Arrogant, but proud. Grim Reapers may be less noble than Angels, but they were never any less powerful.

The other Reapers stood up first, slowly turning into their true selves and walking out, ready to begin the ceremony. Jason followed them, eyes never leaving Dick. With each step he took, his form revealed, his robe, long coat with the hood on, and a belt carved with the symbol of a four-horned goat skull, the sigil of Hell. It had always been a subject for Heaven to chat, how Reapers chose their forms so alike to human’s outfits. Probably because they were the closest ones to the mortal world, they watched over them, collecting souls, guiding them to Limbo, or to Hell. Their job bound them to the human world, to their lives, and maybe, it was the Reapers who understood Father’s creation the most.

Jason spread out his palm, calmly walked to the middle of the hall, and fire burst and blazed on his hand, powerful and beautiful. His scythe morphed out from the flame, giant and ancient-looking, reaching way over the top of Jason’s large form, with its blade curved and bigger than even a person.

This was merely a half of his real form, but in Limbo, due to respect to the deceased, no spiritual workers revealed their true appearances, as their looks could be quite a shock for humans sometimes.  

Jason walked towards Dick, face stoic and cold. For a moment, Dick held his breath. Everybody was watching them.

Dick stepped forward, raising his wings and folded them against his back. The tails of them swiped the ground, drawing lines of runes following his steps, until he stopped.

It had been thousands of years since they first met. Jason had grown up to be such a fine man, if Dick was a frightened soul trying to escape from Limbo and back to the land of living, if he came to the gate and met Jason, he would definitely run back twice as fast. There was always something about Reapers that drew other’s breath away, maybe not as holy as Angels, but notably more imposing than Demons.

That was probably due to their serving, their course was always human and human only. Sacred workers of Hell but their loyalty never lay there. These gatekeepers had always been a mysterious puzzle Father casted down for none to solve.  

Dick drew his swords on both sides, drawing more runes on the ground. The letters ran up, flowing in the air after the tips of his weapons, and when he crossed them together and hit the ground fire burst into life in every cauldron around the hall.

“Let’s the ceremony begin.”

There was no speech, no personal message, only instruction and information. Soon enough, the other angels led the souls into the carriages that would bring them to Heaven. Three million five hundred and forty-eight souls in total they collected this month and among all of them Dick recognized the man Jason had guided the last time they had met. He looked at ease this time, no confusion, no regret. He even seemed happy.

It was good, it was what Limbo was supposed to do to them, ease their minds, get them ready. That was why this place had always been so peaceful, so humble looking, so close to the naked nature of the living world, with rivers and mountains, forests and fields, open markets and villages where the souls lived the time they had among the spirit world’s sacred workers.

Jason lived here too, when he wasn’t busy collecting souls and doing his duties down in Hell.

It had been long since Dick last visited this place, too long for him to even remember.

When the carriages left and the Angels flew up to Heaven, Dick stayed back. He hid his wings and morphed himself into a humbler presence. A cloak should be good enough to keep all the attention off him. Dick was confident so as he marched to the edge of the market and watched people doing their trades down in the shadow of a tree. No money in Limbo, as so for every level of the spirit world, because money was a creation of one of the seven sins. The people here traded objects, fruits, vegetables, any supplies they had to each other. Food wasn’t a necessity in the land of death, but eating was a joy no one should be stripped of.

Watching these innocent souls living like they had, or should have in their own world, only simpler and carefree, made Dick happy.

“You love watching them.”

Jason walked closer from behind and sat down next to him. He had changed back to a more suitable attire as well, but Dick doubted that could ever actually work. The only ones that could wear black in Limbo were Grim Reapers, and Reapers always wore black when they were out.

An apple was suddenly pressed towards Dick’s face, and Jason huffed when Dick was caught off guard enough to look surprised.

Dick took it with an awkward nod of gratitude. His fingers lightly brushed Jason’s when taking the apple.

“I heard there’s an apple tree up there, in Heaven.” Jason said, eyes looked away and towards the market.

“Tim told you?”

“Yeah, he’s down here frequently enough. Unlike somebody.” Jason’s eyes glanced at him, and Dick ducked himself further into the shadow of the cloak to not face him.

“We have a garden. Many trees are grown there.”

Jason just kept on looking at him, as if he was unsatisfied with Dick’s answer, as if he was waiting for him to say something else.

They stayed silent, until time felt like thin air, passing by without even the slightest notice. It was hard for immortals sometimes because time had never meant much to them. What could be a lifetime for a human being, for them, it was just a day passing by.

“Who’s on watch today?”

Jason suddenly asked. Dick’s answer came out like a huff of breath.

“Tim.”

Without any further words, a smile crept onto Jason’s lips when his head fell on Dick’s shoulder. They sat closer than before, sides pressed together.

Their hands, different in every way, in size, color, power, but still, they found a way to be entangled.

When Dick burst through the door and marched inside, Harley was more than ready to bail.

“Okay, I’m out of here.” Was all she said before disappearing behind black smoke. The devils around looked as paled as if they had been sprayed with holy water, falling off the desks and onto their asses when Dick walked over in fury, catching the front of a devil’s shirt and hissing in his face.

“I need a word with the Lord.”

All he got was a shaky finger pointing to the door before the devil’s mouth actually foamed and the green light in his eyes flickered weakly.

Dick grunted and pushed him down on the floor. Devils, they were so weak in front of an Angel’s presence, not to mention a high-ranking Angel like Dick, as if their auras were poison in their lungs.

Behind his desk, with a glass of wine in front of his face, Ras seemed bored and annoyed when he saw Dick stride his way into the room like a tornado. He was already rubbing his temples before Dick even began speaking.

“First,” Ras raised a hand to stop Dick. “I don’t control him, out of all the Reapers, he’s always been a wild card. Second, he didn’t do anything wrong.”

“A man was clocked out before his true fate because some Reaper waved his scythe and made the decision. That was the third case this year, from one Reaper. And you say nothing is wrong?”

Ras’s eyes turned his head up and glared at Dick. They had never liked each other, but they were the ones to help keep the world balanced.

“Hell is to punish and repent, not to encourage wrong doing.”

“Don’t speak moral to me, boy. I’ve been seated on this chair since far before you even learned how to flap your wings. All of you up there, listening to God’s orders and pretending to watch but do you actually see?” He touched his glass, and looked at Dick through the red liquid with an intense eye. “Worthy or not, Heaven or Hell, what if He was the one who wrongs?”

Dick stomped over in fury, slamming his hands down on the desk and facing Ras close enough for him to only see the blue of his eyes.

“You do not speak of Father that way.”

Ras only stared back at him. His eyes, dead black like ink, tired and old, but the shape of them never ceased to frighten others.

“The light of Him is strong in you, boy. But not all of us are the same, some souls deserve to be down here, so others can stay living, even when it is against the rules.”

“You don’t know that.” Dick hissed. “It’s Father’s decision to make.”

“Balancing the world, keeping it in order, that’s our jobs, isn’t it? But how many souls have gone down here when millions went up there? It’s not a sign of solitaire for this crazy world, Angel.” Ras shook his head. “You know it, deep down in you. And it has been biting inside you, that the millions you bless, were all just casualties of the few that went down here.”

“Ask yourself, what if the world is unbalancing itself? What if it’s killing itself and all of us mighty are just here, watching it burn while waiting for God’s guidance.”

Ras pulled on Dick’s coat, smoothing an old wrinkled hand down the cloth. “Tell me, boy. Do you really trust your Father enough to let him write what is wrong or what is right?”

Dick grunted, smacking Ras’ hand away. He never liked this man, and Ras always had his way to crawl himself into others’ minds in a not very pleasant way.

Bruce might have put up a fight, Ras might have enjoyed a fight. But Dick was not Bruce, and he had no intention of satisfying the old Lord of Hell’s need in seeking chaos. That was probably why the man hated Dick so much. Bruce would have explained and made a speech, entertaining the man, but Dick, Dick would just be himself and shove a “No.” to him.

Unlike Bruce, Dick knew Hell’s way of seeing the world, understood their own conception of saving the world by wiping it all and starting fresh, he was just stubborn enough to not let it happen.

Dick was already heading out the door when Ras called, hands stomped down on both sides of the desk, hair long and pooling down around his shoulder, blending in with the grey of his beard. In that green coat, he looked like an old vulture and wasn’t that a perfect symbol for death.

“You’re His favorite, so ask Him. Did He create us to be obedient or to protect life?”

Dick didn’t like Ras, didn’t like how he could be so right sometimes.

“Do not resent yourself for how I have made you to be.”

Dick pouted, looking back into the moose’s eyes and then down to the water of the fountain. Sunlight patted his head, and he felt Father’s warmth toy with his hair before a bird landed down next to where he was sitting, singing. Caged in a child’s form, newly born and inexperienced, too pure to learn, and yet, to know, Dick hated how he looked different from his brothers and sisters.  

In the garden, Father found him staring down at his reflection on the water, frowning at the wings that were different from Bruce’s, his mentor.

Four. Bruce had four. Why didn’t he have four?

“Cherish the life I give you, my child, no matter how different it is from others.”

The light warmed his wings, next to him, the moose sat down.

“I don’t live, Father. I can’t die.” Dick pouted again, but all he heard was Father’s laughter.

“You can’t die, but that doesn’t mean you can’t live, Richard.” Father smiled, even when it wasn’t in any certain shape, Dick could still feel it by the wind, and the light. “And just like us, down there,” The fountain glowed, showing Dick Limbo, where Reapers were gathering for a ceremony. “Them too, if we can live, then they can die.”

“Reapers?” Dick squealed. “But they are gods, just like us.”

“Sometimes, dying doesn’t necessarily come in the form of decease. They’re the gods of Death, and for that, they must be able to know how it feels to die. They’re powerful, and power can come with consequences when you have no sympathy. So, I gave them desires and feelings, so they can die too, so they can understand the value of the souls they guide, or the lives they are capable of taking.”    

“Take lives?” Dick asked, rolling himself in Father’s embrace of light. “But isn’t that only your decision to make?”

And Father just smiled again.

“It is, still, I gave them the power too. Because when the hard time comes, it takes more than one hand to write what is right, or what is wrong.”

That night, they immediately fought at first sight. Lightning struck down at every wave of Dick’s swords. He was furious, and Jason did nothing to tame him but instead fueled his rage more. Father’s old words came back to his mind, faded and flickering like a ghost.

“Finally!” Jason barked through the grit of his sharp teeth, lips grinning madly wide when raising his scythe. The blade hit the ground and tore it apart.

They got too lost in themselves, didn’t even care to hide anything anymore. The field they chose to put on the mass of their brawl was far away from civilization, empty and wide, Dick spread his wings to their full size, all of them, and flew up to strike down thunder and lightning, knocking down trees from around and having them burst into flames.

Jason’s laughter only got bigger and louder. Flesh and skin melted from his face after the waves of Dick’s power, his real form revealed, and he made his enjoyment obvious. He wielded his scythe, gathering flames and blowing it all at Dick.

At this point, even when they were invisible to mortal eyes, humans must know the gods were angry. Jason’ eyes were burning with Hell’s fire, all the grass around him turned ill and dark, until there was nothing but ashes. With each contact their weapons made, air broke and light cracked. Everything around them was in flames, Jason was burning himself. Black and red, dark coat and robe hovering and floating around, he looked at Dick through the hood, so close they were both breathing each other’s air. His scythe was deadly, his strikes were true, but up this close, staring into each other’s eyes, the God of Death didn’t have a bit of fury.

Dick hated how this was how they had always been. Fighting, hurting, because this was how they were supposed to be. Heaven and Hell, Reapers and Angels, they were two sides of a coin, different, but the same.

“We’re doing it all again, aren’t we Angel?”

He knew it, why wouldn’t he? He knew Dick would be furious for the souls he took against the laws, knew Dick would come down by himself to talk him back to his senses. After all these years, perhaps he had finished waiting and now craved an excuse to meet again.

Father was right, Reapers could die, because they felt too much, just like humans. And had Dick always been this cruel to him? Making him wait and fueling his hope only to wait for more.  

Dick grunted and laughed, dropping his swords down in the burning grass. He felt Jason storm towards him, but he had lost the will to fight. In the end, he had already known it from the start, that he was merely acting like this for the sake of the morals Bruce loved so much, and he, himself was craving to meet Jason again.

His hand reached out, and when Jason got close enough, just enough, Dick pulled on his coat and smacked his lips to the stained teeth of the skull that was Jason’s face. Everything about him was hot, burning, just like always.

In a moment, Jason closed his eyes and pressed them even closer, but then the next, he pushed Dick’s shoulders away.

“What are you doing? He might‒”

“He won’t.” Dick said bitterly, desperately. “He hasn’t been on watch for a long time, Jason.”

Jason stared at him, the skull that was his face furrowed and frowning. And then in a swift moment, he was kissing Dick back twice as hard, and three times as desperate. His scythe slid out of his hand carelessly as he now clutched at Dick’s waist and hugged his shoulder, the tip of its blade pierced down into the ground at the end of its fall, right next to Dick’s silver swords.

A Reaper’s kiss would take a life, an Angel’s kiss would bring a life. And here they were now, kissing each other like two sides of the coin, so different, but inseparable.

When Jason laid him down on the burned grass, Dick shrugged himself into his mortal vessel, but retained his wings. Jason always loved his eyes, as some kind of symbol that his love came from the core, that it stayed strong and unwavering, no matter their differences. It was like he was trying to spit in Father’s face and tell him he would love Dick anyway.

When his robe had faded into gold dust, revealing only naked skin, Dick’s hands found flesh when they touched Jason’s face. Jason had also morphed into his human vessel. Slowly, his robe and coat turned into black smoke, and dissolved into thin air.

“I love you.” Was all he said.

And “I love you.” Was all Dick answered.

They kissed again, but this time it felt different. In human vessels, everything felt a thousand times stronger. Everything was a shock, and Dick shook when their skins slid on each other like they were meant to be.

It was wrong to say gods couldn’t feel. Gods had feelings, and gods could love. Because it wasn’t something that could be molded, it was something that came naturally, like the hair growing on their heads, like a thought crossing through their minds. As Angels, many sins they couldn’t touch, many desires they couldn’t feel, but Father gave love to them, because there was nothing wrong with love.

No limits, no rules. If you understood it right, love had always been just that humble and pure.

But humans, they made everything different, with desires and sins, needs and wants, as if it was food with spices in it. They made love surprisingly electric and passionate.

They could only do this in human form, and for that, Dick forever envied this species. Angels may love, but they couldn’t feel lust. Unlike Reapers who spent their eternity of serving close to humans, lust, sins, desires, they had it all. Angels were children of God, love was in Dick’s blood, but that was all.

“Angel.” Jason called. He wasn’t mocking anymore, the same nickname, but endearing.

“Angel.”

Dick shivered at his voice, felt his kiss and warm breath coat his neck. His hands, the hands of Death, caressed Dick’s skin so tenderly. Dick wrapped his wings around them, felt the muscles on Jason’s back flex like waves of the ocean on every feather.

His hands smoothed down his chest, felt every inch of his skin. Jason stared at him, eyes green like Hell’s fire, but the way he was looking at Dick made the earth quake.

The whole time, he called Dick names, angel, Richard, and Dick, like the time they met in the living land and Jason had joked and given him that name. It was slang, he had explained, and Jason had served for far too long to not get familiar with the human’s culture.

As if Dick ever cared. To him, every word Jason used on him, at this moment, felt like a love song.  

He lifted Dick’s thighs up, and forced them to wrap around his waist. They both sighed when he dove in, lightning struck and ripped the sky, the earth rumbled, and winds blew.

They had always been close, but now, they were connected.

“Jason.” Dick called breathily. And Jason did nothing but touch his face.

“I’m here, angel.” He tucked back a lock that had fallen into Dick’s eye. Dick touched his skin, felt his heat, his muscles, the power that ran beneath them.

Jason started moving. Dick heard his breath losing its steady rhythm, felt the heat of Jason burning inside him. Lightning cracked around them, waves then waves of them, piercing the ground and adding more to the raging fire they were lying in the center of.

Their bodies were so compatible, as if they were born to be like this. Dick felt Jason’s hand on his when he pulled the Reaper in and kissed him. Despite his appearance, his grudges and his raw strength and power, Jason was all about gentleness and care. He touched every feather as if memorizing it, held Dick’s hand and kissed it as if asking for permission.

Maybe this softness had been in his core since the very beginning, buried and hidden underneath the intimidating appearance of a Grim Reaper. Or maybe it was just Dick, it was just him that was special enough for Jason to treat this way.

For tonight, Dick didn’t care. As if all the responsibilities were now burned into ashes by the flames that surrounded them. In the center, holding onto each other, Dick wished this was how they could always be.

The next time Dick visited Limbo, Jason was sitting on a rock in his field, entertaining the kids of the village with the sparkling butterflies he made from the dark smoke. In his normal attire, even with the giant scythe resting on his back, Jason looked oddly humble and adoring.

“Angel!” A kid screamed, a tiny finger pointed out, and immediately, all of them ran over towards Dick like a herd of ducklings.

Children, their souls were always so pure and sensitive they could easily pick up the presence of a high level spiritual creature close by.

Dick picked a girl up and spread his wings out just to hear them all giggle in amazement.

“You’re taking all of the spotlight again.” Jason walked over, picking a piece of straw and putting it between his teeth. His scythe hung high and mighty behind his back, blade sharp, threatening to tear apart the sky.

He must have just gotten back from work.

“Mr. Angel, can you fly?” The girl against his chest suddenly asked, and who was Dick to deny such cuteness.

He flew her close to the clouds, all the way to the top of the mountains and back, picking fruit from the high up trees, and wild flowers that were still cold and wet from the snow. She was happy and by the time Dick got her back to the ground, everybody was asking him to fly them too.

When Dick finished with the last kid, it was already high noon. The whole time, Jason sat silently, patiently on the rock, watching them.

“Alright kids, let’s get back to your cabin. Remember what Old Nan makes today?”

“Stew beef and tomato bombs!” They all yelled.

Jason chuckled and snapped his fingers. Black smoke curled up from the ground, wrapping around the kids and every little giggling face, and then in a swift moment, they were all sent back. The field was left empty with Dick and Jason standing like statues, looking at each other’s faces.

From here, if Dick turned back, he could spot Jason’s cabin, old and simple looking but it was just the look, inside, he had it all. A nice kitchen with glass windows to get all the sunlight, a big oven that must be barely used because he was busy in the living land all the time, one huge guest room that he once invited all the other Reapers to for some beers and business chat. And one nice bedroom with a bed so soft and covers so warm, Dick could still remember lying in them, in the hold of Jason’s arms, and counting down the time he had left before going back up to Heaven.

When Jason held his hand, when he pulled it and guided him, Dick mindlessly let him lead the steps to the cabin, and then inside, to the living room where he had already memorized everything. Jason had a coffee machine over in the corner, right next to the pillar, and a mug that had a red skull on it on the counter. He had a guitar, hanging somewhere on the walls, or sometimes it could be down on the couch. He even once snuck Titus into Limbo and shrunk the hell hound into a normal dog size to fit into the place.

That was a good memory. Damian missed Titus, maybe Dick should let someone take the kid down to Hell for a trip next time. Hell’s citizens couldn’t go to Heaven, but Angels were always the exception, they went wherever they wanted, wherever they were needed, and that could be anywhere.

Everywhere.

Anytime.                

Responsibilities.

“I’m taking over Heaven.” Dick said, feeling the missing weight of his wings behind his back. He had hidden them back when walking in to fit through the door.

Jason looked at him like he had said something wrong or hadn’t even said anything at all.

“What?” He shuddered, his hand slipped out of Dick’s.

A Reaper shuddering, that was odd. Dick had thought he could only pull that out of him when they were having sex in human form.

“I’m taking over Heaven.” Dick repeated. “It’s not huge news to everyone, up there at least. They’ve been taking orders from me for almost a millennium. Some of them even seemed overjoyed, actually. I don’t know how to feel about that.”

“How to feel about that?” Jason spat. “You, taking over Heaven?”

Suddenly, he stepped back. A few strides of his feet like someone had hit him hard.

Jason had never looked this frightened, this lost during a fight. He, the great and powerful Grim Reaper, the gate’s keeper, the watcher. He, who redefined God’s words and fell in love with an Angel.

“Yes.” Dick smiled, didn’t know why his action made Jason’s face twist and change like he was pierced by Heaven’s blades, as if his body was vulnerable to Dick’s words and actions.

“No.” He said, shaking his head. “Was it Bruce? Did that fucking sanctimonious asshole force you to do this?”

“No. Jason, no.” Dick desperately wanted to cry but couldn’t. Jason didn’t deserve this, he deserved a reaction, a colorful one. Dick wished he was human, wished he could feel things as strongly as them.

“Bullshit!” Jason screamed. For a moment, Dick thought his control had snapped and Jason would have turned back to his true form. “He made you do this! He made you. Is that why you suddenly come down here so often? Is that why you were on fields study?” Jason didn’t leave a single second out for Dick to explain. “You’re not even trying and yet you’ve already done better than that fucking asshole. He must think this is funny, huh? Throwing this all to you, what has got into his head, huh? He was addicted to that chair and that fucking fountain or whatever you guys up use up there to talk to God. He was fucking addicted to it!”

He must have spent too much time with Roy again. For Heaven’s sake, Roy was an Arch Angel, not one to go back and forth carrying messages like this. That was Tim’s job, Tim and his fiery wheels.

He suddenly strode over and grabbed Dick’s shoulders, jerking him back and forth with shaky hands like he was trying to shake some sense into him. He looked so serious, tense, but serious.

“Tell him no.”

“Jaso‒”

“NO!” He shouted. “Tell him no. Please, Dick. Tell him no.”

“I can’t!”

Jason looked dazed, confusion painted on his face. “Wh ‒ what?”

“Bruce left, Jason. He left for Father… and I don’t know… I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

He was just gone one day, leaving Heaven and the sake of all other worlds to Dick’s hands. Father’s chair had been left empty for approximately a century. Since then, Bruce had taken over Heaven, baring his shoulders and making decisions for him. And now, he had left too, leaving Dick alone and lonely with the destiny that had been set for him.  

Jason stayed silent. Either was he amazed or caught off guard by the news, he didn’t show much. Just after a moment, slowly, calmly, he spoke. “I don’t care.”

Dick huffed out a bitter laugh. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

“Do I know what I’m saying? Do you know what you’re saying!” His hands slid down, curling around Dick’s arms until they were holding hands. Such sweetness, Dick would miss it. “You know well the price to be a Seraphim. You’ll only serve Heaven and Heaven alone, you won’t be able to come down to Limbo or the land of the living anymore!”

Or Hell. Because a top choir Angel’s presence would destroy Hell with the light of their presence.

Jason couldn’t go up from the places he served. And Dick couldn’t go down from the place where he stayed.

How could Dick not know what that meant? After all, it was in his destiny, in the way Father had made him, with six wings instead of four like he usually showed. And if his destiny wrote down their parting, then Dick could only follow it.

Farther wasn’t cruel like Hell usually joked, nor was he merciful like the mortals constantly praised. He was just Father.

Too wise, too powerful. And neither made him cruel or merciful, they made him unpredictable.

Dick raised his hands, with Jason’s still in his and touched his face. “Show me yourself.”

Jason looked back at him in question, but he didn’t oppose. Soon, the skin on Dick’s fingers started to melt, his clothes started to fade, black smoke spread out, hugging his whole form. Dick would miss this feeling, touching the edges of his coat, looking into the darkness of his hood, running his fingers on the hard cold skull that always looked at him so endearingly, with Hell’s fire burning in the hollow of his eyes.

Jason’s real form was always larger, broader, more intimidating looking. He wrapped his arms around Dick, pulling him close, until Dick could feel nothing but the molten heat of the great Reaper, and the hardness of Jason’s large belt pressing to his chest.

With gloved fingers caressing his cheek, Dick looked back at him, at the face of his lover, to memorize this moment of being intimate, of being so close. He wanted to remember, to carve it into his mind. Jason’s hold, Jason’s heat, Jason’s way of tenderly touching him, Dick wanted it all.

“Stay with me, stay with me forever.”

“They need me. The worlds need me.”

“Forget the worlds. Forget everything. You’re an angel… my angel.”

And forever, he shall be.

“Why can’t it be anyone else, but you?” Jason’s voice came out broken, a low whisper of wind and death.

Dick touched his hand, running his fingers to feel the hem of his long sleeve, then to the middle of his chest. Dick pressed his palm through the open coat, onto the robe, felt Jason’s chest, where his body was cold and hot at the same time. Through Heaven’s eyes, Dick could see, the vivid red of Jason’s flame, burning in his chest, fueling his destructive power.

Through Dick’s silence, Jason had figured it out. “The kid. He doesn’t have wings, does he?”

Dick could only smile, cheek rested where Jason’s chest burned the most.

It was easier this way than thinking about Damian’s ill fate. Where would he be, what would he do? Father didn’t created him, Bruce and Talia did, and now the poor boy, half-blood and confused, got caught on the line crossed between two worlds. Heaven or Hell, Angels or Demons, either where or what, he didn’t belong.

Dick wished Father was here, wished He’d have given something else more than a smile or whispers of encouragement that he himself could figure it all out.

Maybe Dick could. But it seemed so hard, doing it all alone like this.

“Angel.” Jason called, lifting Dick’s chin up and looked at him in the eyes.

It seemed only fair if Dick stripped for him too, so he did. His wings were too big they knocks things off inside the room, feathers flew everywhere, milky white blended in with the ash black of Jason’s presence. It was one of the rare times Dick showed his true form, but for Jason, he would do it all.

Jason touched his chest, his neck, his waist, the small of his back. He closed his eyes and shut the flames in them, laying their foreheads together.

He kissed Dick’s nose, his cheeks, his lips. Even with no flesh, his touches were gentle and warm, just like the way he had always been.

“I’ll wait for you.” He breathed, so close, so endearing, yet, he said the words like he wanted Dick to seriously carve them into his mind. His words, his promise, the promise in their parting.

“I’ll wait for you. Even for a million years, even when Hell breaks and Heaven falls, even when the sun dies and worlds collapse, until we find each other again. I’ll be waiting right here, so anytime you look down, you’ll see, my love for you is eternal.”

Their hand found each other again, interlocked, like how their fate had always been. Dick looked at him how they always had. Two sides of a coin, but facing each other.

“And even for a millions years, even when Hell breaks and Heaven falls, even when the sun dies and worlds collapse, I’ll still be watching down on you.”

So they kissed, not for the first time, but hopefully, not for the last time. Entangled, as who they were, as what they were, no hiding, naked and different, but still, they was how they loved each other.

So they kissed, before Dick’s wings covered his face and the light from his other four came taking him away from his Reaper’s embrace.

                                                    10 years later.

“You’ve talked to Father.”

Kate looked at him, her eyes the color of fire. Her wings clipped, head bowed as Dick walked over.

Up upon the sky, she flew down, all of her eyes closed, a sign of an honorable greeting only a Cherubim like her could give. His face was no longer for everyone to see, hidden behind the fold of his wings, but his eyes were clearer than ever, as they should have always been. He could see her watching him, could see that like everyone else, she missed the sight of his eyes.

“I did.” Dick smiled.

“What did Father say?”

Familiar words, familiar advise. “Be patient, my child.”

From here, next to the gate of Eden and the fountain of the worlds, looking down to the water, his vision reached beyond worlds, down to the land of the living. Everything spread out, human’s world, Limbo, Hell, the dark places that lied in between the edges of the spirit worlds, where lost souls tried to flee and never made it back. He saw human pray, saw them slaughter each other, love each other, live and die with each other, conquer the world and then tried saving it, passionate and lively, flawed but beautiful, all in that one tiny world of theirs. And then Limbo, peaceful and quiet, humble and pure, with children running through the fields, open markets and bonfires from villages, music and nature, trees and mountains.  

“He couldn’t see you.” Kate said, floating near him.

Dick smiled back, and shifted his vision. “No, he couldn’t.”

Just a bit away from the village, located alone and isolated, in the wide field and back facing the mountains, a familiar cabin came into his view.

“But he knows I can see him.”

On a rock, in the middle of the field, a Grim Reaper sat. His eyes looked up at the sky full of stars, a kiss landed on the tips of his fingers, and up, they were sent towards the sky.

With a soft smile and eyes of Hell’s fire, even when a world away, a kiss from Death was sent to Heaven.

Even for a million years, even when Hell breaks and Heaven falls, even when the sun dies and worlds collapse, until we find each other again.

My love for you is eternal.

END.

[livingdarwinaward]

Isle of the Lost

I stumbled over the side of the small boat, legs cramped from the days at sea. I stretched, then looked around. “Damn.” The island was creepy, the rocky beach filled with bones, bodies, torn sails, and driftwood from ships. The tidepools glowed with lost souls, and heaps of trash were caught between boulders. I kept my hands on my knives as I walked toward the massive building in the middle of the island, warily eyeing the sirens dotting the beach.

“A shame,” one of the sirens told me. “Had you come in a larger ship, Heran could have added to her hall.” She indicated the building in the middle of the island, clearly made from wrecked ships. “I’d like to at least live up to my grandmother’s legacy.”

“That is exactly why I came in a small boat. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business with Heran.” I continued walking toward Heran’s hall.

A mermaid stopped her weaving for a moment to smile at me. “You’re clever. I like you.” She kept weaving, hiding her face as she continued, “And between you and me? Take everything she tells you with a grain of sand.”

“Heran?”

The mermaid nodded, and I started walking again, coming up on an actual path, the entrance of which was littered with bits of old statues. I made to step over the pieces, but a stone hand shot up and floated in front of me in the universal ‘stop’ signal. I stopped, wishing I could step around it as the pieces cobbled themselves together into a mostly human form.

“All the missing statue parts of the world and you couldn’t find a nose? Seriously?”

The statue glared at me (somehow, even though not a single change in facial expression) and said, “You seek entrance to Heran’s hall.”

“Yes,” I told it. I sensed spirits, but they felt different than most. Trapped, somehow. Bound. I couldn’t tell how I knew. “Who are you?”

“We are Lost,” a different voice said. The statue crossed its arms, somewhat awkwardly due to the arms being in multiple pieces, and the same voice spoke again. “Do not become Lost yourself.”

Don’t. Don’t take the path. That was a normal spirit, one only I would be able to hear. Apparently sensing my confusion, the spirit continued. If you get lost on the path, you lose yourself, you become Lost. Bound to Heran. It will be worse for you than most, being what you are.

Meaning? I asked it.

You’re a raven, you’ll be tasked with keeping all of the spirits on the island, an enemy of Helcor. The scrap of mist next to me resolved into an image of another raven in human form. Our beloved goddess made that very clear when I was stripped of my cloak.

“Do you wish to pass?” A third voice came from the statue of the Lost.

I looked between the other raven and the statue. “I have to take the risk. I have to find Dicey.” The statue moved aside and I started onto the path.

The second my feet were on the path, ground ahead of me erupted. Sand, pebbles, rocks, and just about everything else launching up to form a city, mud brick buildings decorated with primitive murals.

Okay, now the high possibility of getting lost on the path makes more sense, I thought. I jumped at the voice of the other raven, who’d apparently followed me onto the path. I couldn’t see his face anymore, As he was back to being just a wisp, but I could just feel his grin on me.

What? He asked, Did you think I’d let you go alone? I’m Haloti, by the way.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Pan. Thanks for helping, but no, I really didn’t expect you to,” I said in a rush. “I’m assuming we have to find the hall through this.” I paused. “Whatever this is.”

Lost civilizations, Haloti told me. More than just objects and people can be lost. Heran has a ‘library’ of all lost knowledge and ideas, or so I’ve heard.

“This will be more difficult than I thought.”

It always is with gods. Haloti shivered. We should start looking. Stay together— separating can get one of us lost easier.

“Makes sense.” I stepped forward, and shades appeared, not true spirits, but images is the past. “D’ya think we can ask them for directions?”

Where would we ask for directions to?

“Places with things of value or things that get thrown away, probably.”

Or places of power or importance, Haloti said. If I had my cloak, I’d be able to sense spirit trails and corruption.

“Take mine.” I got ready to unclasp my cloak, dreading the loss. I’d never taken it off, never wanted to lose my identity, but if it came down to Dicey, I’d do it.

Haloti changed back from his wispy most to his own form, just to give me a look. Are you kidding? He asked, as near to shouting as a spirit could get. I’m not getting you in trouble, too. The consequences will be more severe for lending it to me of all people.

“Why?”

I was stripped of my cloak for a reason. That’s all I’ll say. I won’t take it.

“Wait.” I pulled up my hood, launched myself into the air, spiraling up and up. I looked out across the maze, and saw Heran’s hall. “Ha.” The hall was somehow more distant than before, and more so than I thought the size of the island would allow. If I could grin with a beak, I would have. I dove back down to the maze and Haloti, who seemed to have figured my plan out. “I think we can just fly over.”

You can. I don’t have my cloak.

“You can’t fly without it even as a spirit?”

Yes.

I paused. I honestly didn’t want to go on without Haloti, as he seemed to know more than I did. “I may have a way you can come with me.”

How?

I scraped my foot against the ground. The hard dirt of the illusion held, so I knelt and pulled out my stylus, drawing a rune on the ground. The illusion melted away, but only where the rune was. Right, I’m dealing with a goddess’s magic here. I drew a circle around the spot where I’d drawn the rune. The illusion in the circle melted a bit, but held. I cursed. Some more trial and error experimentation eventually got me a circle of the actual ground, with a bit of driftwood that was half carved into a dolphin. I held out my hand to Haloti. What should his rune be? “Give me your hand,” I told him.

Haloti looked dubious, but gave me his hand. I thought for a moment, then wrote alone on his hand. “What does that rune mean?” he asked.

“It’s what I’m naming you. That one means alone,” I said as I wrote that rune on the bit of driftwood, surrounded by binding runes. “I’m binding you to this--” I held up the wood “--so that I can bring you along when I fly over.”

Haloti looked even more dubious now. “If you think it’ll work.”

“It should. I’d test it by throwing the wood, but I feel like you’d just end up as a Lost.”

I pulled my hood up, then grabbed the wood in my claws and flew upward. Once the hall was in sight, I flew toward it. I didn’t look down, fearing that if I did, I would get lost. Haloti’s thoughts were loud, but incomprehensible. He seemed worried, but I didn’t focus too hard on him, trying to keep Heran’s hall in sight as it seemed to flicker and shift. Then it vanished. Shit. I dove, trying not to think too hard about how it was ruching up far too fast to account for my own speed. Haloti’s thoughts became a scream in my head, just as we hit the ground.

The impact was delayed. We went through, Haloti said. We’re underground.

I shrugged off my hood, stretching as my body shifted and grew into my human form, then picked up the stick I’d bound Haloti to. “What is this place?” I didn’t expect any true answer, but Haloti was completely silent. I looked over at him. There was no definition to his features, a wisp of soul standing far too still. I could feel the current of unease in his mind. “Haloti?”

This is the Limbo. I didn’t know it became lost after… after I came here.

“‘Here’ being the Isle, I’m assuming?”

Yes. Haloti seemed to turn around, looking at the hazy wisps of trapped souls kept from the after. Have you heard of what happened? Why the Limbo was lost?

“Legend was that the Limbo was sealed to all but the gods, but something happened to lock even them out, so the whole system was lost, but no one was even sure it had ever existed. Many ravens I knew thought it was an old story the gods told to keep us in line somehow.”

It most likely was, but I doubt anyone is told the whole of it. Haloti formed just enough to smile at me, but it was strained. I wouldn’t have— I never knew it ended like this, though.

“You—“ I stopped as I noticed Haloti staring at one soul.

No, not her. That should be— Haloti looked at me. I should explain, he started before another soul caught his attention. I felt a whisper of relief go through him as he looked at it.

“You don’t need to.”

I should. Someone needs to know the whole story.

Leaning on the nearest wall, I gestured for Haloti to go on.

That man, Haloti said, gesturing to the second soul he’d seen, pulled Avi— he gestured to the first soul —into his scheme to bring an army from the Limbo into the world to destroy the gods. Avi was human, one of my closest friends, and when he— a rude gesture was aimed at the second soul —tricked her into helping him, she went to me to borrow my cloak and come here. The Limbo hadn’t yet been sealed, so she got past the barriers and nearly got souls out. My cloak was stripped from me because I’d lent it to Avi, but I was given the option to bring Avi to justice… Haloti trailed off for a bit, and I understood why.

I couldn’t kill her, so I ran. For five years. I knew someone else would be sent, but I couldn’t bring myself to betray Helcor so completely. I didn’t realize Avi’d ended up here. I’d heard the Limbo had been sealed, but not that it’d been lost.

“Why’d you come here?”

I heard somewhere that cloaks that we’re stripped came here. I wasn’t sure if it was true, but I came anyway. I wanted to find my cloak. Destroy it. Hopefully then I could escape the shame of letting Avi die.

I stood up. “I doubt that’ll work, but you can try. Now let’s try to find our way to Heran.”

Haloti nodded. Yes. Perhaps some souls may know.

We had to be careful to find a soul who wouldn’t trick us, but we could only do so much to ensure that we followed a trustworthy one. Haloti advocates for Avi, but I argued that she would be the obvious choice and may give the wrong directions.

You have a point. Haloti said as we left the room we’d been in to explore the catacombs further. As we followed the voices of souls, we went deeper, even as we never picked one.

Suddenly light broke out and we found ourselves in front of Heran’s hall. The door looked ancient, ornate.

“We come to deal with Heran,” I said.

The door swung open. When Haloti and I entered, we were faced with a maze. Heaps of things that had been lost forced us to have to find our way through, and when we could see the walls, ancient artifacts— probably priceless— were hung up or on shelves. We eventually found our way to the back, where Heran herself lay, her long tail coiled over the ground and around swords, bones, stones and other ancient, lost treasures.

“You come for your cloak,” she said to Haloti. “And you come for your friend. She is not here, little one.”

“I know,” I said. “I come for information. Can you find her?”

“Perhaps, for a price.”

I pulled out my bag, tugging out the bones inside. “Bones of a mermaid who died on land. Her body was lost to the sea, and she rotted like a human.”

Heran grinned, and I fought back a shudder. “How nice,” Heran said, drawing out the phrase. “Yes, this may do. For your request. You, however--” she addressed Haloti now, “--must pay your own price. Think hard.”

Heran turned back to me and beckoned for the skeleton. When I handed it to her, she tucked it behind her, then dragged herself over to a crack in the wall and stuck her head in. something inside began to glow, and I heard Heran chanting.

I looked at Haloti. He hung as a wisp of mist in the air, and I barely heard the whisper of his thoughts, only the faintest trace for me to know that he was thinking, but not enough for me to tell what he was thinking. A sound pulled my attention back to Heran, and I saw her pull her head from the crack, frowning.

“I cannot find your friend,” she said. “She either is not lost or is dead.”

“Or she is lost beyond your reach,” I muttered.

Heran looked at me with raised brows. “How so?”

“She opened a portal to disappear. I’m not sure it was to any place in this world.”

“You think she is in the Rift.”

“Or another world.”

Heran looked at me. “Hope that that is so. You should go to the City of Heroes. There is a way to travel between worlds there, much safer than portals.”

“Thank you.” I bowed, then turned to Haloti. “Would you join me if I asked?”

He materialized, then shook his head. No. I thought of my price. At Heran’s encouragement, he continued. I will give my soul.

“You wish to become Lost?” Heran asked. “Truly a strange request.”

I wish to forget. If that is the way to do so, I will take it. I only ask for my cloak to burn first.

“Haloti--”

“I will grant it.” Heran heaved herself to find the cloak.

The last thing I heard before I found myself back in my boat, the island nowhere in sight, was Haloti.

I’m sorry, Pan.

[canaryatlaw]

well, today was all around pretty great. I’m just. the relief is so overwhelming. After two months of waiting, reading one line on a message and it’s done. All those hours of studying paid off. and like, the whole time I was stressing about it before and after taking it people were always like “oh but you’re so smart I’m sure you passed” and I was just like well I appreciate your confidence in me, but you weren’t there when I kept failing on all the practice questions to the point where I’d start crying from being so frustrated, how my “missing assignments” list had become multiple pages worth of entries, how much I slacked off because I wanted to do something else and didn’t do my daily assignments, all while having a sinking feeling that I was fucked. I did feel a bit better about it after actually taking the test, which I somewhat attributed to the whole adrenaline rush thing because that’s a thing that would happen whenever I’d walk out of an audition, even if it went pretty shitty I’d walk out with a burst of confidence, so I kinda felt like it was probably just that. but at the same time I couldn’t deny that I had a supernatural peace over me calming my mind and guiding me while I was taking the test, and I knew that wasn't coming from anything inside me, because all I was filled with was doubt and fear, but as I worked on it I felt peace, I felt the studying I did shine through, I felt like I could do this. After a month of thinking I was definitely going to fail, I felt calm. I felt like I could do this. And I know none of that came from inside of me, because there was none of in me, I know that was God being by my side and never leaving me as I struggled and doubted myself the whole way, He was right there making sure I never fell. And I’m honestly tearing up right now writing this just thinking about it. Like yes of course things haven’t always been great, and there’s been a lot of stuff lately, but I cannot deny that God is good, He has been so good to me and I never would’ve gotten here without him. Okay, now that there’s all that done, my actual day. Woke up at 7, got ready, made sure to put waterproof mascara on (up until recently I had been using it every day because I am completely unpredictable as to when I’m gonna start crying, but I read a thing that said to avoid it when you can so I’d been using a different one, but knew today called for waterproof) because no matter what way this went I knew there was going to be tears. I left a little early because I had to stop by the office and drop off my lunch, since I was bringing a lunch with me that required refrigeration and didn’t want to drag it though court with me for who knows how long. So I’m on my way, and once I get on the train platform and there’s a train pulling up right next to me, my phone decided it wanted to take a plunge out of my pocket. now, to be fair, my pockets were a tad small for the phone to fit with earbuds plugged in, so it wasn’t all that well secured. but it took a dive, coming loose from my earbuds, and sliding on the platform a solid two feet before coming to a stop about 6 inches away from the edge of the platform. All I could do was look at it then turned to the person next to me who had seen the whole thing and was like “well that could’ve been a lot worse” 😂😂 and I mean, I’ve dropped my phone on the tracks before (though that was objectively not at all my fault) so I know just how true that is. Once I got on the train and looked at it my glass screen protector was broken but my actual screen was fine, so that’s what matters. Standing room only on the train, took it to the office stop and got off, then ran upstairs to stick my lunch in the fridge on my floor, and then stepped in to use the bathroom before heading to court. It was once I’d stepped into the bathroom and I was looking at my phone and refreshing my email, that I saw an email marked from the IL Bar Admissions Board and of course I knew exactly what it was, and my heart started racing. I definitely hadn’t expected to hear from them earlier than 9 am, and it was like 8:30 at this point. So I follow the link in the email to the site, sign in, and eagerly click the new message I had labeled “exam results,” took a deep breath and looked down to see “We are pleased to advise that you have passed the July 2018 Illinois Bar Examination” and I was just flooded with so much relief. I was even thinking like, are you sure? they isn’t an accident?? this is actually me??? And, crazy enough, it seems like it was. And I can’t even tell you how relieved I am to know and for all of it to just be over. Swearing in isn’t until November 8th, so I got another month to spend in not quite an attorney limbo, but I know I’ll survive. I know that once we get sworn in they’re definitely just going to throw us into the deep end, so I need to make sure I’m really paying attention in court so I’m not fucking this up. I was the first of the five new hires who had taken it to find out, so once they heard I got it of course they were very nervous. But I continued on to court, where I was shadowing one of the female attorneys I like a lot but hadn’t really been able to see in action yet. We had a bit of an odd schedule, mostly about setting trial dates, but we were running back and forth a bit, but overall it wasn’t bad. I was gonna stick with her the whole day and there was a deposition at 1, and since you always need to prep your client for the deposition you need to get there like an hourish early. It was 11 at this point so we ended up going to the corner bakery cafe that was right next to the courthouse, where we were eventually joined by two other attorneys (guy attorney I kinda like showed up and I was like “ugh, nobody told me this guy was coming” and everyone laughed) (making fun of boys is how I show my affection to them). Through that conversation I found out that 3 of us (the new hires that took the bar) had passed, but sadly two of them didn’t, so that really sucks for them. Thankfully though the firm will keep them on and not just dump them, so that’s good. Other lunch topics included one of the top attorneys who handles almost all the med mal cases apparently just confidentially put in his two weeks notice (I was warned not to tell anyone under any circumstances, but later in the day another lawyer came into our office and told us the same thing) which was....interesting. I’m not really sure if they have a hierarchy or what going on there so I don’t really know how the big wigs work. Oh well. After we finished eating we walked over to the opposing counsel’s office to prep our client for the deposition. Fairly simple car accident case, our client had been parked in a parking lot when she got rear ended by another car that had just pulled in, hard enough that the other woman’s car ended up being totaled. The deposition of her was normal enough, nothing too extraordinary, but the real fun started afterwards when it was our turn to depose the defendant. now, to paint this picture for you, this woman who caused the accident is at least in her 70s if not 80s, and tbh should not have been driving. At first there was a lot of back and forth about her license saying she needed corrective lenses while driving and she was like “I never wear my glasses when I drive” and other stuff about when she got cataract surgery and this whole big mess, then there was another mess about medications because one of the meds she listed in the interrogatories was for sleep issues and comes with a fuck ton of side effects that could easily have contributed to the accident, but when we ask her about it she straight up says she wasn’t aware of any of the side effects, and get this, it’s not even her prescription, it’s her brother’s who gives some to her when she can’t sleep 😂😂😂 I was honestly trying to hide my smile because I was just like oh man, I can’t believe she just said that lol. Then there was a whole fight about what doctor did the cataract surgery which is a very odd spot to object and the lawyers started going at it, neither willing to budge, so they had to certify the question, meaning it has to go to a judge who will decide if it should be answered or not. and then towards the end when they were going to do cross OPC and their client took a “break” during which the lawyer I was shadowing was like “watch, they’re gonna have her change everything now” and sure enough when they came back in the room suddenly she remembered the cataract surgery was in 2016, not 2013 like she initially said, and of course she was wearing her glasses at the time....even when she literally just said she never drives with them on. and like, our attorney was not having it, she was PISSED. I was honestly surprised they were trying something so brazen like that when it’s legit just a bald faced lie and everyone knew it. so on redirect we fired back, our attorney was like “so earlier you said this and now you're saying this? so were you lying then or are you lying now?” and the OPC looked like he was gonna have a stroke haha it was pretty good, and the depo went well overall so there very well may be a settlement offer coming in there soon. After we headed back to the office, where I typed up my notes from the depo and sent them to the attorney, and by the time I finished that it was like 5:15 so I headed out. Train ride home was fine, got home and got some food and was ready for The Resident this week. I won’t get into it too much because I’m mad tired but the episode made me rage so much about the state of our healthcare system and fucking children not being able to get the life-saving medication they need because their parents can’t afford it. honestly, I was so angry lol. so there’s that. After of course was 911, which was basically a continuation from last week’s in their earthquake situation. All I’ll say about it was the point where all the firemen/EMS/everyone else disobeyed orders to evacuate the building to save the firefighter that was trapped with a little girl had me on the verge of tears, it was really well done and I always appreciate stuff like that. So that was good, and after that I just watched the news casually for an hour before starting to get ready for bed, and now I’m here and GOD am I tired, what a day, so I think I definitely deserve to go to bed now. Goodnight dear friends. Thank you for all your love today, it means the world to me.

[imjustthemechanic]

The French Mistake

Part 1/? - A Visitor

So I decided to write something ridiculous again.  Steve is getting bored of being a guest in Wakanda, so when Natasha offers him some superhero work, he jumps at the chance.  Something about the whole situation, however, just doesn’t smell right.

Steve hadn’t been expecting visitors in Wakanda, but if he had, he would have known which ones to look for.  Tony probably wouldn’t be ready to talk to him for a while yet, Bruce was missing, Thor was in Asgard, and a lot of the others were hiding, but Natasha – Natasha might well stop by to say hello.  So it was a surprise of sorts, and yet not quite, when she did.

They met in the botanical gardens in the Wakandan capital, and Nat smiled as he came up to give her a hug.  “Good to see you, Steve,” she said, putting her arms around him.

“Good to see you, too,” he replied.  “Another new haircut?”

She’d cut her hair short again, in a chin-length bob but without the curls.  “Clint calls this one the Hot Android Chick,” she said.

“That sounds like Clint,” Steve agreed.  He sat down on the round bench that encircled the central fountain – there was moving water everywhere here, creating a mist in the air that nourished over two thousand uniquely Wakandan species of plants, and helped cool everybody in the blistering African sun.  “Is he…?”

“He’s back home.”  Natasha remained standing.  “Don’t worry about the others.  That’s not what I’m here for.”

That was an ominous phrase.  Of course, Steve thought, Natasha wasn’t here on a social visit – she just wasn’t the type.  The tone of her voice suggested that it was something serious indeed.  Was her new haircut a disguise?

“What happened?” Steve asked.

Nat looked around.  There were visitors enjoying the gardens, and botanists working with the flowers, but nobody was close enough to eavesdrop.  A few, particularly children, were staring, but that was because Steve and Nat were probably the first white people they’d ever seen in person.  The Wakandans were, by and large, a people who respected each other’s privacy.

Even so, Natasha offered Steve a hand to get up, then led him back into a bower where shelves housed at least fifty different types of orchid, from tiny ones that looked more like insects than flowers, to a giant species whose frilly white blooms were nearly eight inches across. She took one more look outside to make sure they wouldn’t be interrupted, then leaned in closer to Steve.

“Thor’s back,” she said quietly.

There was a rustle overhead that made them both look up, but it was only a troupe of colobus monkeys making their way through the trees.  Steve lowered his gaze again.

“What’s he found?” he asked Nat.  Thor had left after the defeat of Ultron, hoping to learn more about the Infinity Stones.  If he’d returned, he must have something important to tell them.

“Not what he expected,” said Natasha.  “Loki’s alive.  Apparently he was hiding on Asgard pretending to be somebody else, until he found where they’d stashed the tesseract.  Once he did, he took it and ran off.”

That was bad.  The Battle of New York actually wasn’t even one of the more traumatic things that had ever happened to Steve – but fighting off aliens in the canyons between skyscrapers hadn’t been any fun either.  Steve absolutely agreed with Tony Stark in hoping it never happened again, even if he wasn’t so enthusiastic about the other man’s methods of guaranteeing that. “Has he gone back to the Chi’Tauri?” he asked.

Nat shook her head.  “As far as Thor can tell, he slipped out by a portal that leads to Earth.  He wants us to help bring him back.”

“Why us?” asked Steve.  “I’m a wanted criminal, don’t forget.”  Steve rarely forgot that – every time he thought he had, something popped up to remind him.  “Why not Stark and the rest?”

“Stark’s got a lot on his plate,” said Natasha. “He’s the one who’s having to deal with all the politicians on this, and he’s constantly in the public eye.  If Stark gets involved, then the media finds out, and we have to deal with the accords.  We’re hoping to keep it low-key.  Pun not intended,” she added, the corner of her mouth twitching.

Steve spared her a withering look for the joke, but he did understand her reasoning.  “We won’t want anybody panicking when they hear the name Loki,” he said.

“It doesn’t improve our image any to have him back, either,” Nat agreed.  The Avengers, or what was left of them, needed all the good PR they could get.  “The idea is to recapture him quietly, without fuss. So no Stark.”

“How do we do it, then?” asked Steve.  Loki had come quietly in Germany, but only so that he could cause them problems in person.  Outside of that, he hadn’t done anything quietly, and the tesseract was not quiet object.  If Loki were really on Earth, it was frankly astonishing that the whole world didn’t already know it.

“Thor’s going to help,” said Nat.

Steve snorted.  “Because Thor’s all about quiet.”

“He’s asked us to meet him at the Nasjonalgalleriet in Oslo, undercover,” Natasha explained.  “I gave him a bit of advice about what ‘undercover’ entails but I don’t know if there was a point.  Blending in is not exactly in his nature.  But he’s promised to provide a containment unit for the tesseract and some weaponry.”

The situation just didn’t sound right.  “Why would Loki be hiding out, though?” Steve asked. “Especially if he’s already got the tesseract.  Why isn’t he swaggering around declaring himself king again?”

“Thor’s theory is that he’s looking for something else, probably something that’s in Norway, near where HYDRA found the tesseract in the first place,” Natasha said.  “He’s not entirely sure Loki’s got an overarching plan because apparently he often doesn’t, but he’s got to want to use the tesseract for something.  It’s not a very good doorstop.”

Steve had a bad feeling about the whole thing, but at the same time, he couldn’t say no.  Not when the tesseract was involved.  That damned thing he’d already died for once, and now wouldn’t seem to go away – it had been a relief to see it shipped off to another plane and yet here it was again, as if determined to devil Steve until the end of time.  If the tesseract were a part of this, then he had to do something.

Although honestly, even if Loki hadn’t had the tesseract, Steve wouldn’t have been able to just sit by.  What he’d said to Stark all those months ago was entirely true – when Steve saw a bad situation, he couldn’t just ignore it.  Especially when he was sometimes the only person who could do something about it.  That just wasn’t the way he worked.  There.  Two perfectly good reasons to get involved, neither of which in any way involved the fact that just hanging around as a royal guest was driving Steve crazy with boredom.

Overhead, the monkeys rustled again.  Steve nodded.  “All right,” he said.  “Let me talk to T’Challa.”

It was just around sunset the next day when Steve and Natasha boarded a small craft, built to look like an Avro RJ but capable of much greater range, at the city’s airport.  Steve had dyed his hair brown and Natasha had bleached hers blonde, and they were dressed in t-shirts and jeans as if they were tourists.  It reminded Steve of going undercover at the mall in Washington, though now they’d had slightly more time to prepare.  At least this time there weren’t going to be any HYDRA goons looking for them.

Probably.  Scandinavia and the secrets hidden there had been on of HYDRA’s primary areas of interest, and might still be.  They would have to be on the lookout for surprises.

“So,” Steve said, settling down in his seat. “Two of the only slightly super members of the Avengers against Loki. Remind me how we’re gonna keep this quiet again?”  It had taken all of them before… of course, that time, Loki had an army.  Hopefully there wouldn’t be a repeat of that, but Steve still had trouble believing that Loki was skulking around keeping his head down.  It just didn’t sound right.

“Thor has assured me he has a plan,” said Natasha. “Besides, there’s really nobody else he can ask.  I’ve already explained why Stark can’t get involved, Clint wants no part of Loki or the tesseract, and Bruce… yeah.”  She shook her head.  “We’re it.”

She had a point there.  “Did you tell him about our argument?”  The media had called it Civil War, which was a ridiculous hyperbole for something that had, at its worst, been a dozen people duking it out in an airport parking lot.

“Of course I did,” said Nat.  “If I hadn’t explained about the accords, he would have just marched in with his hammer swinging.”

“What did he say?” asked Steve.  He was confident Bruce would have been on his side, because of the trouble government control had caused him in the past, but he’d never been sure about Thor.  It seemed most likely he would have found the whole thing silly.

“Not much, but I get the feeling he thinks it’s just humans being petty and tiny again,” Nat replied.

That figured.

The Wakandan aircraft didn’t need a takeoff roll. It lifted smoothly from the ground and ascended to cruising altitude – it would make an approach landing at the airport in Casablanca, where they would transfer to a regular flight bound to Europe, in order to maintain anonymity.  Steve sat watching the buildings slowly drop out of sight below them, and wisps of cloud start to appear.

“I should have asked this earlier,” Nat said, “but… how have you been?”

The view outside began to rotate as the craft turned north.  “I’m working on it,” Steve said.  He felt like he was in limbo, as long as Bucky was frozen.  “You?”

“Working on it,” Natasha echoed.

Steve wasn’t sure he should ask, but after a moment’s doubt, he forced himself to.  “And Tony?”

“He’s working on a lot of things,” said Natasha. “He said you sent him the world’s douchiest apology letter.”

That was enough to make Steve sit up and look at her instead of out the window.  “I sent him an apology letter,” he said. “What was wrong with it?”

“Other than the fact that it said sorry you couldn’t see I was right the whole time?” Nat asked pointedly.  “You didn’t even address the main reason he was so mad at you in the first place, or the fact that you used to lecture him for keeping secrets from you.  It’s gonna take a lot more than that before he forgives you, Steve.”

Steve sat back again, scowling.  “Maybe I don’t care if he forgives me.”

“You asked how he was,” Nat reminded him.  “Clearly you care on some level.”

“So you’re still on his side,” Steve observed.

“There are no sides in this, Steve,” said Natasha.  “We’re all on the same side, and by letting our enemies play us against each other we’re just falling into their hands.  Trust me, I know how that works, intimately.  You know it, and Tony knows it, but if you really want me to come down with one or the other? The accords exist and they’re something we’re going to have to work either with or around.  You’re going to have to compromise eventually, because they’re not going to go away.  I’m on the side of getting shit done.”

“Hence going behind everybody’s backs to catch Loki,” Steve said.

“I’m trying to avoid creating a situation in which anybody needs to invoke them,” said Natasha.  “I made Thor promise to at least try this without raining down bolts from above, and if we can do that, the accords will never come up.”

Of course the secrecy had been Natasha’s idea.  This was making more and more sense all the time.  “So Loki can do whatever he wants, but we have to sneak around.”

“Yes,” said Natasha curtly.  “How is your friend?”

She was changing the subject, but Steve was okay with that – he didn’t want to talk about the accords, either.  No matter what anybody told him, he couldn’t imagine just working with them.  Nobody should be allowed to tell him when or how he was allowed to intervene.  Steve followed his own moral compass, and it had always served him perfectly well. Being under anybody’s control just gave them an opportunity to use him as a weapon, and he would not let that happen. He’d rather just sit on his ass in a garden in Wakanda and watch the world go to hell.

Natasha was right, he observed – he was a terrible liar, even to himself.

“Bucky’s… they’re working on it,” he said.

Natasha nodded, and offered him a reassuring smile. “They’ll figure it out,” she said.

“I know they will,” Steve agreed.  He had faith in the Wakandan scientists – and he needed something good to have come out of the whole damned mess.