#but if water’s gotten in between the double walls then the cup is really dead :(

[astralpenguin]

rip to the pretty cup i bought a couple of weeks ago that it turns out was SO delicate that handwashing with hot water was enough to peel away a big chunk of the decoration 😔

[voltagesmutter]

Diphallia

Final three part smut series about Leviathan and his blessing.

Pairing: Leviathan x MC (F)

Fandom: Obey Me.

Warning: Diphallia (Double Penis), first time intercourse in relationship, double penetration.

Notes: A thank you to @theinariakuma​ for your help as always, I owe you so much.

Tagging: @darkfaerry, @otome-smut-queen, @0-miles-away, @rainbowscythe, @minteyedoll, @theshove, @thebestaqua32, @rensphilia, @beelsdessert, 

[Part1] [Part 2]

Part Three: Reunited [Final]

“Are you really sure about this?” His teeth taking her bottom lip, tugging gently as hands rested on the curve on her waist. Thumbs toying with the waistband of her skirt.

“God yes,” Running her tongue over his bottom lip as he had done the day he left. “Please, yes,”.

He tried to stifle the groan that left his throat as she took his hands in hers and slid them up her thighs beneath the flimsy material of her skirt. Wetness prodding against his fingers to feel the soaked folds bare as she wore no panties beneath it. 

Her hands let go of his as he pressed his thumb to her clit, circling in a motion he knew she loved whilst two fingers ran down her slit before pressing into her tight core. Her hips gyrated down as she rode his fingers, her hands hastily undoing his belt to free the mouth watering confinements. 

“Here?” He whispered, already knowing his answer from the way her hips dipped down against his hand. The wetness of her that soaked down beyond his knuckles and the soft moans that left her parted lips.

“I- I don’t think I can wait, I need you ,” Clenching over his fingers in time to her hand wrapping around his right cock. “But... but I can if you want too,”. He could sense the desperation and need in her voice. 

“I can’t either,” He groaned, head thrown back as her left hand took his left cock. Her hands pumping him in soft movements, savouring the groans that left him.

It was the dead of night, cramped in the back seat of his car with her straddling him. Her t-shirt pulled up so her naked breasts were exposed whilst Levi was still dressed in his uniform. The moonlight being the only source of light in the empty car-park. 

Leviathan had been the last to exit the boat due to his status, her waiting patiently by the side of his car after repeatedly telling Lucifer that she wanted to fetch him alone. Lips too busy locking in an exchange to share pleasantries, Levi pushing them both into the back of his car as she moved on top of him. 

“I-ah, I need you,” She whimpered, letting go of his left cock to grab his wrist, pulling his fingers out of her. He wrapped them around himself, letting the glistening stickiness of her arousal coax over his cock. Reaching to his side, she grabbed her purse, a bottle of lube being pulled out as she pumped thick squirts onto her hand. 

Levi watched and waited with bated breaths as she covered his left cock before rising above it and letting herself line against his tip. She was on birth-control to help her menstrual cycles, no need for a condom as she slowly lowered herself down. Her eyes opened wide as she clung to his uniform jacket, the toy she used had stretched her perfectly to take him but it could not prepare her for the feeling of the pulsing heat of him inside her. Moans filled the small space of the car as she worked into a slow rhythm, raising up before lowering down until her walls loosened the grip on him. His left hand fondled her breast as it bounced lightly in front of his face, watching the pleasure twist across her features. His right hand pumping his other cock in-time to her movement, occasionally grazing his fingers against the inner of her thigh. 

“W-what are you…” His face going red as she raised herself so only the tip was in her, her hand batting away his on his cock as she coaxed it in lube. She held his at the base as she positioned herself better, guiding him to her core as she once more lowered down. This time, taking both of him into her as she cried out. “I want- all… Oh god… all of you,”. Complete in awe at the situation as she took him, a feeling completely new and exhilarating to the both of them as she continued to rise up before lowering down. His eyes completely struck to watch both of his cocks disappear into her tight heat, inch by inch into the velvet folds of paradise. The feeling of being complete, of being so full she felt his cocks at the back of her throat as her stomach pooled with heat. The intensity of it grew as she moved down him more. It only took a few rolls of her hips before-

"F-fuck..." The whine left her lips as her hips stilled, back arching as she was pressed to his lap. Both of Levi's cocks buried deep inside her. Levi couldn't think as he watched her, felt her clench around both of him. His cheeks red at how quick she came. Fingers scratching into the material of his jacket, jaw-slack with her eyes tightly shut. Immense pleasure on a new level taking over her body, white tingling heat coursing through her body as she pulsed violently around him. 

The emotions of being back with each other, their first sexual intercourse together, the fullness of him inside her, all of it being too much and plunging her off the edge head first into a mind-blanking climax.

Head thrown back with one hand on her breast still whilst the other dug his nails into her hip, pushing himself up against her as his back curved slightly. Unable to hold back as a choked groan followed a few heavy gasps, heat flooding inside her. The intensity of her sudden orgasm being his undoing as he came without warning, shallowly thrusting as he rode out his and hers releases. Her forehead pressing against his as they both panted, unable to describe the feeling taking over them. Neither had been so undone so fast. Levi still adjusting to the feeling of all of him being buried inside her, head swimming with pleasure at the tight velvet of her heat gripping him. 

“A-are you okay?” Finally asking after catching his breath, pushing the strands of hair that had stuck to her face.

“Yeah- I.. I just need a minute,” She panted, eyes still shut as her head flopped against his shoulder. They rested in the silence of the fogged up car, exacerbated breaths being the only sound. Levi’s hands curling around her to keep warm, tracing shapes of all different manners up her back whilst the softness of his lips left fleeting butterfly kisses along her forehead. 

“I’m sorry,” A meek whisper paired with rounded doe eyes glancing up at him. 

“Whatever for?” Confusion took over as he cupped her cheek in his palm, his other hand pulling down her down her top to cover herself.

“I didn’t mean too… make it finish so quickly. I- I wanted it to be a surprise… special. And- and I ruined it-“ Her words trailing off at the end as he cut her off .

“Hey, hey no tears,” Cupping her other cheek and pulling her face close to his, “That was… amazing. Everything about you is amazing. Your perfect, that was perfect. I can’t believe you even did that, no one has ever done that before…”. Pressing a delicate kiss to her lips as his thumbs wiped away the fallen tears, “You could never ruin anything, your so perfect, so so perfect. I still can’t believe you, practically a living angel, wants to be with me,”. A light chuckle from him followed after his words. It was rare for him to speak in such depth, to wear his heart on his sleeve so boldly but when it came to her. He’d climb to highest peaks of heaven to declare how he felt her. She was his guiding light, his tiny piece of stardust, his normie.

“I love you,” She whispered between a sniffle, overwhelmed by his words. 

“I love you too,” Holding her closer in a tight embrace, neither wanting to the first to let go.

 -

“Promise me you won’t be too long,” Barely managed to be spoken as his tongue glided across hers. Her hands buried back in his hair as he pressed her into the side of the brick wall.

“If I had the choice I’d be right upstairs with you,” He groaned as he pulled away, a string of saliva splitting between their lips. Their clothes adjusted, the stain of mixed release from when he finally pulled out of her was covered by the long material of his jacket.

The minute they walked in, he was bombarded with greetings from his brothers. Despite the chaos, Levi loved his family and they loved him. However, his gaze was not on his brothers, but on the woman quietly sneaking up to the bedroom, seeing her lips mouth out, 'I'll be waiting' before she slipped up the stairs. 

Levi was growing impatient as he was getting asked questions from everyone. 

Lucifer asking if he made his reports. Mammon about any treasures. Asmo about his...scent? 

As his annoyance grew, he heard a small huff--he noticed it because that was where he wanted to go. Up to the young woman who'd stolen his hat before rushing up to his room. Impatience having gotten the best of her as well. 

"Sorry boys." She spoke as she moved between the small crowd. The shirt, his shirt, was a bit big on her, showing off the purple marking on the back of her neck as she latched onto his arms. "I'm going to have to steal the Admiral away now."

Bare legged and ready for more, the others became aware of the small human and her annoyance. A smug grin on Asmo’s face, missed by the others, as the scent that lingered heavily on Levi came flooding into the room each time she took a step.

Mammon's face went red as his jaw dropped open and Asmo waggled his brows at the woman with light giggles. Everyone else had the decency to be embarrassed and look away from her. 

Without another word, Levi took her hand and ushered out of the room, his body pressed to her back to shield her from the view of his brothers. Barely making up the stairs, stifles of giggles and lingering kisses kept them from moving. Until, reminding her of his strength, hoisting her up in the air with her legs around his waist as he carried her through the threshold of his room. One long, open mouthed kiss refusing to break apart as he kicked the door shut, placing her onto his bed as he climbed above her. 

Deft fingers popping the buttons on his shirt undone, leaving the almost transparent material upon her skin but with her torso exposed. His uniform shredded in a slow moving manner, both of them taking their time to admire the other in gentle caresses. Memorising every dimple, scale and bump upon the others skin, leaving a detailed map in their minds. 

“I love you,” Lips hovering above hers, honey eyes of amber baring into her soul. His weight gently pressing down onto her as his body covered hers from above, one arm pinning both her wrists above her head whilst the other softly rubbed down the curve of her side.

“I love you too,” Parting her legs a little more so he could fit snuggly between between them. Fitting together perfectly like a jigsaw puzzle. The softness of her thighs pressing up against his as he settled properly between her. His forehead pressed against her as she let out a soft sigh to feel his hand move down the curve of her hip and between her thighs to take his lengths into his hand.

“No matter what happens, you are mine and I am yours,” Amethyst diamonds on his neck shining, just like the one of the back of her neck. Neither of them sure what the future held, but neither cared as they had each other. Both loved one and other too much to give up anything without a fight. Something he never felt he was worthy of, but the way she stared up at him with trust in her eyes, the binding pact upon her skin and the rapid beating of her heart was enough to push his doubt aside.

❁ Kinktober (18+)

❁ Masterlist (18+)

❁ Smut Drabble, Prompts and Giveaway (18+)

[mtherhino]

One side, Two lives

Chapter eight

Dam that Nerd

Warnings: swearing, description of slight gore

First Previous Next

Logan was up pretty early, but that wasn’t too weird for him. As much a he stressed the importance of a good sleep schedule and how one’s body needs rest, the actual thing often alluded him. His mind was just so hard to turn off sometimes, so he usually just decided to keep working on whatever he was previously before he tried to go to bed. So, it being somewhere around three am, the logical side decided it was the perfect time to get some coffee in his spaced theme pjs.

As he walked half dead to the kitchen he was rather surprised when he saw Roman siting on the counter. He wasn’t looking at his phone or anything, he was just staring off into space scowling as if he lost an argument. This left Logan rather confused but he continued forward. As soon as he took a step the prince turned to him and gave him a tired nod of recognition which Logan returned. The logical side went over and started preparing his usual coffee, he didn’t even think as he started grabbing the ingredients.

           He decided that he might as well strike up conversation since he was here.

“I’m surprised to see you up this early.” He said. Roman shrugged.

“ I could say the same to you.” The creative side countered. Logan nodded at that.

“Fair enough, my I mind was just awake and it wouldn’t go back to sleep. You?” Logan said as the water started heating up.

“Same”

           Logan looked over at Roman and squinted in a curios manner. Roman had wrapped his arms around himself as he had said that, though he had tried to hide it by making it look like he just crossed his arms, the logical side defiantly saw. People often do that when there uncomfortable or when their lying, but why would Roman lie? Logan thought to himself.

           Roman noticed the stare and raised an eyebrow in question.

“Take no offense but I don’t quite believe you Roman.” Logan stated.  The creative side rubbed his arm, he thought that he had done a fairly good job at lying, though he was pretty tired.

“Just, dreams.” The red side said vaguely. Logan didn’t push for answers. He looked over and saw that the coffee was done.

           “Would you like a cup?” Logan asked. Roman nodded and the glasses wearing side grabbed a red mug from the cabinet that had a little yellow crown on it. Logan put at least a bucket of sugar into his own coffee and Roman’s eyes went wide.

“How on earth can you have that much sugar?” Roman asked as Logan took a sip.

“It’s not that much.” Logan said while rolling his eyes.

“I bet that you could scoop out a spoonful of sugar even after you stirred it.”

“Well what am I supposed to do, drink it black? Straight black coffee is disgusting!” Logan exclaimed. Roman on the other hand, smirked, and chugged his entire cup of black coffee in one go. The logical side shook his head.

“I don’t understand you one bit.” Roman shrugged at that. The creative side got off the counter and stretched.

“Well, I’m going to try to get a tiny bit of sleep before caffeine kicks in. Bye specs.” Roman said with a wave.

Logan waved and went back to his room. He grabbed a book to read but even with the coffee and sugar he still found himself falling asleep.

*time skip.

Logan was able to get a few hours of sleep before he woke up to his alarm that he forgot to turn off.

“Back to the real world I suppose.” He said in a grumpy tone. The logical side started getting ready for the day and looked over at the clock. It’s six thirty so Patton should be making breakfast for everyone. I don’t really understand it but he’s says its good for family bonding. The now tie wearing side headed out of his room and into the living room, only to find Patton doing what looked like, was that homework?

“Patton? You realize that Thomas graduated many years ago correct?” Patton turned around to face Logan.

“Yah kiddo, just looking back on some of his old notes and doodles. I figured that we could try to have a nice relaxing day so I decided to look back on some old memories.” Logan looked over the fatherly sides shoulder and saw that these notes were from Thomas’s high school days. There was a lot of doodles of stars in the corners of papers that made Logan smile.

“Oh! By the way there’s some pancakes in the microwave. I woke up a little early so breakfast is already done.”  Probably not as early as me or Roman. Logan thought. He went over to the kitchen and grabbed to pancakes. Looks like Patton wanted to switch things up a bit by making blueberry. He went to grab the fridge and grabbed some boysenberry berry sirup.

           “Did you tell the others of your plan to have a “chill day”?” The fatherly side nodded

“Yup! Virgil came out for some breakfast and I told him and he told Roman.” Logan nodded and walked back to his room.

           A chill day huh? That could be nice, maybe I can get some of my own projects done or read up on some astrology. After he finished his breakfast Logan grabbed the book he was planing to read last night. It was a sci-fi novel that takes place on earth. Certain humans have evolved and are trying to take down humans that have turned the world into a cruel dictatorship. It was a fun read in Logan’s description, but sadly he had only gotten through six chapters before he heard a knock on the door.

           He sighed and stopped reading his book to answer the knock. Logan was surprised when he opened his door just to see Remus standing there with a nervous smile.

“Remus? I mean this in no offensive way but what in the world are you doing here?” The logical side asked

“Um, well, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the imagination with me. The snake is busy and I can’t bother Roman since he’s working double time so he’d just kick me out of his room. So that’s why I am here.”The dark side proclaimed while he tried to hide how nervous he was.  Logan raised an eyebrow.

“What would we do in the imagination?” The logical side asked, he would like it if there was some sort of plan before he went into a literal ever changing world.

“Well I was thinking we could go for a walk in the mystical forest. There are a lot of weird creatures that I thought you might want to document. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” Remus said, the whole time looking anywhere but Logan. When his eyes eventually did come back the the light side in front of him Remus eyes widened in slight aw at the look on Logans face. He looked so excited and happy, the last time he looked like this was when he got his very own jelly flavor. Logan, smile still on his face, slammed the door shut.

Remus was worried that he said the wrong thing before the logical side re opened the door holding a large notebook and a pencil case, now wearing a space t-shirt. Said side seemed to realize that he was very out of character and straightened his posture and tried to keep his face in a bit more neutral expression, but there was still a small smile on his face.

“Um, that sounds very intriguing Remus. I would greatly like to accompany you.” Remus face lit up at that.

“Great! Come on!” The creative side grabbed Logan’s hand and practically dragged him to the dark side of the mind palace. Remus threw open his door and it nearly fell of it’s hinges. He suddenly remembered how much of a freaking mess his room was. For Pete’s sake everything still had some pink glitter on it!

“Um sorry for the mess, try no too impale your foot while you walk.” Remus warned, he had ended up being stabbed too many times to not think there was some sharp object in this pile of rubbish. He methodically walked over to the back left corner of his room where a small trap door laid. He opened it and there was a ladder leading into darkness. He looked over at the light side carefully making his way across the room. When he actually got to the other side he peered down into the darkness under the floorboard.

“Is this your door to the imagination?”

“Yup! Both me and Roman have them in our rooms, his is in his closet or something. Come on!” The more chaotic of the two said as he started climbing into the darkness. The glasses wearing side was a bit more hesitant but he eventually started climbing the ladder. He was surprised when he went thought the door the area was actually doused in a lime green light.

           He looked around the room and took in his surroundings. The walls were made of old grey stones. The was a lot of furnitures that would have looked like they belong to an incredibly wealthy person if it weren’t for the holes and tears in the fabrics. There were also two big windows that had stain glass of morbid battle scenes on them. Although the entire area had a dark and creepy vibe, there was an odd beauty to it. He saw Remus standing on a balcony that laid between the two windows.

           Logan walked over to the green side, still taking in all the details of the room.

“Remus this place is truly incredible.” Logan said. He looked over at the taller of the two and saw how happy he was. Hmm, he probably doesn’t get a lot of compliments, I’ll need to remember that. Logan thought worriedly.

“Thanks nerd. But you haven’t even seen half of the imagination yet.” Remus said with a smile and gestured to the view in front of them. Around the castle past the mote rested the largest forest the logical side had ever scene. He couldn’t see any details from where he stood but even with his not so great eyesight he could see that some of the trees were at least three stories tall. There was a bit of rain but it wasn’t enough to be unpleasant.

           “You made all this?” Logan said, going to the edge to just get a bit of a better look.

“Kinda, the forest was made by both me and Roman but the creatures that are nearer to my castle are more aggressive or like it darker. But I guess most of the stuff on this side was made by me.”Remus said. He hadn’t really thought about the creations in the imagination being his or Roman’s.

“It’s quite magnificent.”

           Remus would deny to his grave that he blushed in that moment.

“Well, um, how about we go see it up close.” The dark side said. Logan was able to keep his straight face but there was a just a hint of a smile there.

“Ya, lets go.” The two started descending the winding stairs. Said stairs had no rails and it would be incredibly easy to fall down. Remus was completely used to the feeling of nearly falling but it often scared anyone else that came down. He looked back at Logan to make sure he was ok but he was, doing completely fine? The logical trait was walking as if he couldn’t fall and break his neck in one wrong move.  Remus had to admit he was kinda impressed.

           Meanwhile Logan was still taking in his surroundings once they got to the bottom of the castle. There where a lot of tapestries and blood red curtains lining the walls and an elegant yet dusty chandelier hung from the ceiling. The two walked to the large door, which should have defiantly taken at least five full grown men to open even though Remus  pushed it open with one shove. As Logan was trying to figure out how physics worked in this world the drawbridge started lowering so that they could cross through mote.

           The logical side was still going over the math in his head when a giant tentacle emerged from the mote and picked him up.

“What in the world!” Said side exclaimed as he was lifted into the air.

“Moly! Put him down right now! Logan isn’t a toy!” Whatever was in the water grumbled(or that’s what Logan assumed since large bubbles came from the water). The green tentacle put him down and a what looked like an octopus started to rise from the mote and started toward the creative side.

“Look Moly it’s completely fine to chuck Roman around as much as you want but you have to be a tiny bit nicer to new people so that they stick around long enough to torture.” Remus said with a crazy smile.

           Stick around for torture? Logan thought as he adjusted his outfit after being handled like a rag doll by a giant octopus. I wonder how many people can say that, well, supposedly Roman has gotten off even worse. The octopus, Moly, grumbled a bit and gave what Logan could only assume was a nod of sorts. Remus patted the creature on the head and it sunk back down into the depths of the water.  

           “Heh, yah good old Molly really likes to play with new people. You should have seen Deceit when he first met her, it was freaking hilarious” Remus said as he laughed cruelly. The blue side rolled his eyes and continued walking down the drawbridge. The two started into the woods and Logan immediately pulled out his notebook. There were thousands of odd creatures swarming the area. Glowing centipedes, birds with more eyes than arachnids and lots of creepy little rodents. The trees where twisted and the majority of them had spikes or vines on them. Logan didn’t think he could write about these organisms fast enough.

Remus found it both endearing and funny as the logical side kept turning in every direction to find the creatures that scurried into the undergrowth to get away from the two giants.

“Haha! If you keep turning your head like that it’s going to snap and I’ll have to hide your body.” Remus said. What, just because he was trying extra hard to be nice didn’t mean he could just turn of his gore ridden mind.

“It would actually be pretty easy to dispose of a body here. Forest are definitely ideal for hiding anything, plus’s if you wanted you could burn the body with ought anyone seeing.” Logan said, his eyes still wandering the forest. Meanwhile Remus was fairly sure he just fell in love.

           They kept onward into the forest, occasionally seeing much larger creatures. They passed a heard of feline like creatures that were just slightly larger than full grown male lions and Logan nearly jumped out of his skin. Though he did relax some when Remus went to pet there multi colored manes and the creatures started purring. When Remus suggested that they ride said creatures to whatever place he was leading the logical side too, Logan was rather hesitant. Seeing this and being probably the most spontaneous side in existence, Remus grabbed Logan’s arm, hoisted him onto the beast so that he sitting behind the manic man, and the feline took off.

Logan, ever so slightly scared out off his mind, clung onto Remus’s back. Remus tried his very hardest not to be distracted by this and run into a tree, that would have really hurt the Suzan’s head. Suzan was a a mixture of different creatures including cheetah, lion, leopard and lizard, though Remus decided to give them a more interesting color scheme of purple and rainbow. Now because of all this Suzan was exceptionally fast and their surroundings practically zoomed past them.

When the equivalent a rollercoaster ouster ride was over, Logan felt like he was about to fall over from dizziness. He had a death grip on his glasses and notebook for the entire time so that they wouldn’t get lost in the woods.

“Please warn me next time you pull me onto a strange magical beast.” Logan said as he shot a glare at Remus who seemed completely fine.

“Noted” he replied. Now that the logical side could put his glasses back on, he looked around at the mysterious area. He saw that they now stood in a clearing, the rain now able to get to them since the leaves where no longer covering the two. In the center of the clearing was a large lake, and even though the sky was grey the entire area looked absolutely beautiful.

           “Pretty cool right? The lake is a lot deeper than it looks, I think there’s about three underwater caves down there. It actually gets so dark at the bottom that there are a few creatures I themed after the angler fish. The teeth are really cool in my opinion.”

“Cool indeed.” The logical side said as he went closer to the water and peered into it. You could see such a unique ecosystem in just the lake alone that Logan was fairly sure that he could write a whole book about it.

“I wouldn’t get to close,” Remus said with his usual grin, “some of the creatures here aren’t to friendly.” At that little reminder the blue side took a step back. He noted that it was a bit harder than it should have been since the grass seemed to cling to his sneakers. Is everything in this forest alive? The logical side wondered as he shook out his foot.

           He looked around and saw that Remus was sitting under a large tree that was glowing a soft green. He had a sketchbook in his hand and seemed to be furiously sketching something in it. Logan was to far to see so he went over to the shade.

“What are you drawing?” He asked, slightly leaning over the others shoulder. The creative side seemed to startle a this and hid the notebook behind his back.

“Nothing much.” Remus said trying to seem nonchalant . This only made the shorter of the two more curious. He raised an eyebrow at the the green side, said person rolled his eyes and moved his sketchbook into view. On the page was a drawing of a random person, or to be more precise, a person in pierces.

           The drawing showed someone with each of their limbs cut off and hanging somewhere on the paper. Their head was also severed and had a look of horror on its face, its hair seemed to have movement so Logan assumed that the image was supposed to take place directly after decapitation.

“From what I know light sides don’t really like to see anything related to gore.” Remus said with a grin which looked ever so slightly forced.

           “I suppose that is usually the case. By the way the muscles are incredibly accurate, though if you wanted to add something for extra drama you could have a few blood drops flying in the same direction the head is going.” Logan said while adjusting his glasses. Remus looked at him wide eyes.

“I gotta say nerd I’m surprised you’re not put off by any of this.” The dark side said with a chuckle. Logan shrugged.

“Gore isn’t really my forte but I don’t see anything wrong with someone else enjoying it, as long as they don’t try to make the real things.” Logan said giving the duke a small smirk. Remus blinked at him.

“Did you just smirk?” He asked. The logical side straighten his posture.

“I have no idea what you mean.” He said in a monotone voice.

“You so very much did.” “Do you have any proof to your claim?” Logan said giving the other a raised eyebrow. Remus, now standing with his sketch pad tucked away, crossed his arms and pouted. Logan gave him a small smile.

“That’s what I thought.” As the side finished his sentence there was a crack of lighting and the rain started picking up speed.

           “Well I guess we should probably head back unless you want to be soaked and ruin your notebook.” Remus said, heading towards where Suzan and her pack was laying down. Logan nodded and headed over to the beasts. Once Suzan was more awake and ready to run Remus jumped on her back and petted her fur.

“You ready to be pulled onto a strange magical beats?” Remus said in a bit of a mocking tone. Logan sighed but nodded and immediately after felt himself be pulled onto the creature.

           “Ok, lets go Suzan, try to run a little slower this time so you don’t slip in the mud.” Remus instructed the feline who gave a small roar in response. The pack took off and Logan was a bit more comfortable this time, though he still needed to hold onto Remus so that he didn’t fall off. Then a thought came.

“Wait, the cat’s name is Suzan?” The logical side asked.

“Yup. A good name in my opinion. She’s the leader of the pack.” Remus said proudly. Logan hummed in response. Before he knew it they were back at the castle and another strike of thunder came.

“Thanks for giving us a ride, you should probably head towards your cave now that the storms gotten worse.” Remus said as he gave the cat like creature a few scratches behind the ear.

“Yes thank you Suzan.” Logan said and pet her mane. She purred a bit at this and then took of with her pack following close behind

           “Come on nerdy Wolverine, move faster or I’m just going to leave you here.” Remus said, already half way across the drawbridge.

“If you actually left me I could still find my way back to the trapdoor now that I know where it is.” The logical side pointed out as he caught up to the taller of the two. Remus smiled widely.

“Good luck with that. The castle is an ever changing maze that only I can navigate. It’s like a giant puzzle and I have the answer sheet” The creative side said smugly. Logan scowled.

“I guess that would make things a bit harder. But then again who doesn’t like a good puzzle.” The logical side said as he followed the duke up the staircases.

Admittedly it was kinda hard since Logan usually stayed at his desk most of the day. Note to self, start exercising more, The logical side grumbled in his head. Once they got to the top the teacher character was practically exhausted, but he still found some strength to climb up the latter back into the chaos that is Remus’s room.

The two walked back to Logan’s room in silence. It was a nice comfortable silence but Logan was honestly a little surprised that the duke even could stay quiet for so long. Once the two were at the logical sides door they stoped. Remus scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“Um, it was fun showing you some of the stuff in the imagination Logan.” The duke said, not entirely sure what to say. “If you ever want to get out of the mind palace or want to explore the creepy and unknown just give me a nock.” Remus’s smile was a mix of both nervous and awkward because: who says ‘just give me a nock’?! That was a stupid move fucking dam it!

           While Remus was stressing about this in his brain Logan had bit of a surprised look on his face before it turned into a soft smile.

“Yah, that would be nice. Thank you Remus.” Remus blushed a bit. Dam fucking nerd has to smart and cute? He’s going to kill me the bastard.

“No problem dork, see yah later.” The creative side said and started walking away. Logan was half way though his door way before remembering something.

“Hey Remus.” The dark side turned around. “Thanks for the new door.”

           After that Logan closed his door and Remus walked back to his room, pretty happy with how his day turned out. When he got there he re opened his sketchbook and turned to the drawing he was working on at the pond. He had made the one he showed Logan yesterday and used that one as a kind of coverup for what he had drawn. On the page was a not quite finished sketch of logan looking at the clearing with curiosity and wonder. Remus smile a bit and sighed, putting the sketchbook down on his desk.

“Dam that nerd.”

Finally! The next chapter! Sorry that it took so long to write I’ve been very stressed with school. I think I might make some art for this chapter because I just love making up creature that would live in the Imagination. Anyways, that’s all for now humans, bye!

Tag list:

@lovelivingmydreams

[sams-sass]

Its All Coming Back To Me Now

****I am so sorry for all the double posts, my tags go up for a few hours and then get deleted.

Hello! I hope you guys like this one! Thanks for all the love and support!

Summary: You are falling for Sam until Swan Song happens, but there is something you don't know.

Pairings: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, angst, feelings of hopelessness

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

The grass was soft under your knees. There was nothing inside you left to give. You were completely and utterly hollow. Dean was next to you, also on his knees. His face was bloody and swollen, cracked and beaten flesh. You reached down and touched the grass, letting the blades run between your fingertips. An angry and broken sob left your mouth. Your body collapsed upon itself until your head touched the grass that just swallowed him whole. Your fingers clenched into the earth, dirt and grass digging under your fingernails. You felt a hand on your back as heavy and loud sobs wrecked your body. You looked up to Dean’s face, unbeaten and normal again. Cas stood in front of you, his body whole again.  

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He said, his eyes holding so much sorrow and grief. You didn’t trust your voice so you just nodded and wrapped your arms around yourself. He walked over to Bobby and touched his forehead, bringing him back to life. You let out a small breath of relief. Dean’s hand was on you again, you could hardly feel it. You turned to face him and wrapped your arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder. His arms circled you and pulled you tightly against him, his body shaking just as much as yours. Normally, hugging Dean brought you a feeling of happiness, but not now. Not after you had just watched the love of your life get swallowed up by the earth itself. Not after you knew the fate of him. Rotting in the pits of hell for all eternity. Your sweet, loving, and selfless Sam. Gone. Forever gone. Now, Dean’s embrace felt cold and crushing. His familiar scent made your nose scrunch. The tickle of his spiked hair only reminded you of Sam’s soft locks. You shut your eyes and pushed it all down. Everything you couldn’t handle. Everything you never got the chance to say. You buried deep within your gut, letting it fester and ferment into something else.  

You and Dean climbed into the impala, driving without a destination. The sound of the engine was making your skin crawl. The smooth leather seat was uncomfortable against your bones. The drive was quiet, too quiet. Neither one of you had spoken a word. There was nothing left to say. He was gone and so were you. Dean pulled into a motel and left you in the parking lot. You could feel his broken heart. See his cracked and mangled spirit hanging on by a thread. You paid for a room and threw your bag onto the floor. Your body sank into the lumpy mattress. You have no idea how long you stayed there, it felt like days, but you finally got up to shower. You couldn’t feel the warm water on your cold and aching flesh. The shampoo had no scent to you. Your body was caving into itself and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You laid down on the bed and stared into the abyss with unseeing eyes. Your chest was empty, you couldn’t hear your heartbeat. Couldn’t feel the warmth of the blanket. Couldn’t recognize the softness of your favorite socks. You felt yourself sinking deeper into the darkness. Your body was just a vessel now, there was nothing left inside you. You were a shell of the person you once were.  

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

Two years earlier

The rotting wood was pliable and loud under your boots. Your hands were wrapped around your gun as you stepped through the house. You rounded a corner and held out your gun, aiming with precision. The witch was fast, but you were faster. She screamed when you shot her, her body falling against the wall. You stepped on her chest and took aim straight at her heart. The shot was loud in your ears, ringing against your skull. You slipped the gun into the waistband of your jeans and dragged her body out into the field to be buried. You were halfway through the dig when you heard it. A loud and throaty engine approaching the house. You swore under your breath and squatted in the half-dug hole you had made.  Two men stepped out of the car and went to the trunk, the shorter one looked around before opening it. You could see the display of weapons, rosery beads, and other items in the trunk. Your brow furrowed; no way, were these two hunters? You poked your head up higher and watched as they both took off, signaling to each other. You smiled to yourself and climbed out of the hole.  

“Excuse me!” You called to them. The shorter one spun around, his leather jacket moving with him. His pistol pointed directly at you. The taller one turned and immediately raised both his hands in surrender. You stifled a chuckle and crossed your arms over your chest.  

“Who the hell are you?” The shorter one said.  

“I’m the one who shot the witch.” You said, moving your weight to one hip. “Can a girl get some help digging the grave?” You asked before walking away and picking up your shovel again. You ran your forearm across your sweaty forehead and continued to dig.  

“What the hell man?” Dean asked his brother.  

“I don’t know.” Sam shrugged his shoulders, walking over towards you. He checked the body and saw that it was indeed the witch they had been hunting. He turned back to Dean and gave him a thumbs up, the corners of his mouth turning down in a “yup, she got it” expression. Dean rolled his eyes and walked over towards you and Sam.  

“I’m Dean Winchester, this is my brother Sam.” Dean introduced to you. You planted the shovel in the ground and looked up at them, a smile coming across your face.  

“Y/N. Nice to meet you guys.” You said, licking your lips.  

“Yeah, you too.” Sam smiled at you, his dimples giving a boyish charm to his massive figure.  

Two Months Later

“Hey.” His voice spoke behind you. You jumped slightly and turned around to face him, smiling softly.  

“Hi, Sam.” You spoke around your coffee cup.  

“Sleep well?” He asked, coming to sit on the table in front of you. When he was in front of you like this, his eyes level with yours and faces so close. It took everything you had not to wrap yourself around him and crash your lips against his. You swallowed and looked away, gathering your thoughts.  

“Eh, I’ve had better. You?” You bit your bottom lip.  

“Same.” He looked down at the floor, the left side of his mouth turning up into a smirk.  

“The life of a hunter, huh?” You said with a chuckle. You ran your ring finger over the rim of your coffee cup.  

“All glitz and glamour.” Sam joked back, his eyes meeting yours again.  

“It’s better as a team.” You said, watching him for a reaction.  

“I can honestly say, our lives have gotten significantly better since you came around.” Sam smiled at you. It wasn’t a flirty or joking smile, it was a genuine smile that lit up his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat and you had to remind yourself to take a breath.  

“Mine too.” You said and watched Sam’s smile grow even wider.  

Four Months Later

You shoved the rest of the burrito into your mouth and leaned back against the leather. The windows were open in the impala and guns and roses was coming out of the speakers. You closed your eyes and relished in the moment. Sam’s hair blew softly in the wind and you found yourself staring more than once. His green and golden eyes were glowing with the sunlight and you couldn’t stop from falling deeply into them. Sam had been acting different lately, he seemed strung out. Like when you don’t take enough butter for your bread. There were days when he was the old Sam, sweet and caring, but then he would change again. Dean was noticing too. The two of you saw him whispering on the phone, sneaking out into the dark. You watched his body acting like a drain upon itself. The dark circles under his eyes. The secrets he was clearly keeping. You tried to push down your growing feelings for him. Told yourself it would never happen, but then your eyes would connect and the hope would flood your soul again. You craved him. Your bruised and scarred skin itched for his. You licked your lips and leaned back against the backseat, the sunlight warming you.  

Three Months Later

You closed the book and leaned back against the uncomfortable chair. You rubbed your shoulders and moved your head around to stretch your neck.  

“Nothing?” Sam asked. His eyes connecting with yours.  

“Nope.” You mumbled and bent your legs under you.  

“It doesn’t make any sense.” He whispered to himself.  

“I know.” You leaned forward, your muscles relaxing finally.  

“It's like a vampire and a werewolf.” Sam said, his brow furrowed as he rummaged through the books again.  

“It’s a warepire!” Dean yelled from the bathroom, the toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head at his brother. Your eyes moved in thought. Suddenly you sat up and slapped the book in front of you. Sam jumped at the loud noise, looking at you with wide eyes.  

“It’s a nachzehrer!” You yelled. “I remember reading about them one time, they eat flesh of the dead and also eat the hearts of the living. You kill them by beheading them.” You spoke with your hands as you put the pieces of the case together.  

“Y/N, you’re a genius!” Sam grabbed you by the shoulders and kissed your cheek. You stumbled back slightly, not able to contain your smile. “Really, great work.” He smiled down at you; his eyes were so gold in this light. He was beautiful.  

“Thanks, Sam.” You felt your whole-body melt at his touch.  

Two Months Later

Sam had chosen her. He chose Ruby. You understood that he felt like he was doing the right thing, but that didn’t stop the hurt from spreading through your veins. Dean was upstairs, pacing in anger and the bitter feeling of betrayal. You knew that this wasn’t Sam. Not your Sam. This was a man who had been taken at his most vulnerable state only to be beaten down even further. Until all he could do was listen to the only voice telling him he could fix this, but Dean couldn’t see that right now. You placed your elbows on your knees and ran your fingers through your hair, holding your head in your hands. You were so heavy and tired. You felt the tears sting your eyes. Your throat clenched. Your chest felt tight and your lungs burned from lack of oxygen. The tears came and they didn’t stop. You knew it wasn’t love, whatever Sam was doing with her, but the jealousy was still there. The penetrating envy that was burning deep in your heart, building and burning, hot and thick.  

The old and broken-down convent was dark in the night. You and Dean raced through the halls, Dean screaming Sam’s name the entire time. Your hands shook and your eyes moved frantically around the decaying building. That’s when you saw him. His back was to you. He was with her. Your heart was racing in your chest. The doors slammed shut. Dean was ramming his body into the doors. Your chest hurt from how heavy and fast you were breathing. You realized you were crying, choking on thick sobs that racked your lungs. The door finally opened and you saw him. He looked defeated. His face was twisted by confusion and it took everything in you not to run to him. Dean rammed the knife through her stomach, her face lighting as she died. Sam grabbed his brothers' jacket and your arm.  

“It’s him.” He whispered before the floor lit up as he rose.  

One Week Later

You were standing in the motel room, Dean at the table and Sam on one of the beds. Your heart felt heavy. None of you had spoken much since the apocalypse started and you were beginning to wonder if you should just leave. Pack it all up behind you and never look back. Then you looked at him. His green and golden eyes holding so much pain in them. His body was still the same, but he looked so broken and small. You could feel the ache in his heart as if it was your own. Dean didn’t trust him to even go out to get a soda. There was a part of you that understood, but you knew he was trying to do the right thing. He was always trying to do the right thing. Dean stood and grabbed his jacket, leaving the room with a nod in your direction. The silence was thick as it spread throughout the room. Your jaw tightened and you wanted to wrap him in your arms.  

“Y/N, I am so sorry.” He sounded so broken.  

“Sam, I don’t blame you. Please know that.” You walked over to him and knelt in front of him, not caring anymore.  

“I deserve the blame, Y/N. I did it. I let lucifer out of his cage.” Sam was angry now, his voice rising in volume.  

“Yeah, you did. I still don’t blame you, at least not only you.” You placed your hands on his arms, feeling his muscles clench under your touch.  

“What is that supposed to mean?” He turned towards you; his face hard.  

“It means it wasn’t just you! Dean is the one who broke the first seal, Cas let you out of the panic room, Ruby is the one who got you hooked on demon blood! Of course, some blame is put on you, Sammy, but you don’t have to hold this weight on your shoulders alone.” You placed one hand on his cheek, forcing him to look into your eyes. “You are a good man and I don’t think any less of you because of this.” By the time you were done talking, your voice was just above a whisper. His face was so close to yours. His hand touched your cheek, fingers twisting around the nape of your neck. His skin was so warm.  

“Thank you.” His voice was shaky and rough, holding in his emotions.  

Four Months Later

You closed the door behind you and stepped into the darkness of night. The cold air spread goosebumps across your skin and you wrapped your arms around yourself. At Bobby's house you could always see so many stars, the sky was so clear. The moon was bright and heavy in the sky, illuminating all around you.  

“Y/N?” You closed your eyes at the sound of his voice saying your name. You turned your head to look at him over your shoulder.  

“Hey, Sam.” You smiled as he came to stand next to you.  

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked you, placing his hands in his pockets.  

“No, too much going on.” You said, your breath showing.  

“Are you cold?” He asked, already knowing the answer. You turned your head, looking into his dancing eyes and nodded. “Here. Take my shirt.” He said already taking it off his body and stepping behind you. His hands placed it on your shoulders as you put your arms through the holes. He slid his hands down the sleeves before stepping back to your side.  

“Thank you.” You curled into the soft fabric; his scent strong in your nose. He looked even bigger now, arms bulging in his t-shirt.  

“No problem.” He smiled down at you, his hair falling into his eyes slightly. You were suddenly on fire, it had nothing to do with his shirt and everything to do with him. The way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world. The way he listened to everything you said, hanging on every word. How he seemed to always know your feelings and never pushed you too far. You didn’t know the exact moment, but somewhere along the way you had fallen in love. Somewhere in the moldy motel rooms, the cheap diner food, the late nights and early mornings you had fallen hard.  

Three Months Later

“No, Sam. You can’t!” You practically screamed, tears running freely down your face.  

“I have to fix this, Y/N!” He yelled back, pointing at his chest.  

“You can’t let him in! He’s the devil, Sammy!” You grabbed his jacket, pulling him to you. At your touch, Sam melted completely. His muscles lost all the tension they were holding. All the air left his lungs and he folded against you. His arms wrapping tightly around you. You cried into his chest; he rested his head on yours as his hands rubbed your back.  

“I’m the only one who can.” His chest rumbled when he spoke.  

“Don’t leave me.” You pleaded. You felt his lips against the top of your head before he pushed you away slightly to kiss your forehead.  

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Just know that you helped me a lot this year, you’re so strong. You can do this.” The tears were forming around his eyes as he spoke.  

“Sam, I-” You tried to express yourself, tell him everything you had been feeling.

“I know, me too.” He cut you off, his fingers digging into your arms, holding your even tighter.  

Two Days Later

You were standing next to Bobby’s body in the graveyard. Tears fell down your face. Your body crumpling against the agony that spread throughout your veins. Lucifer landed punch after punch to Dean, his bones cracking under the force. You shook and jumped at each one. Then in one moment everything changed. His hand loosened and his eyes changed. He was back. Sam was back.  

“It’s ok, Dean. I've got him.” He said. You covered your mouth and shook your head, knowing what was coming. Sam looked over at you and your eyes connected across the field. His shoulders fell and a deep sadness crossed his face. He mouthed “I love you” to you, his eyes holding so much in them. You grabbed your chest and broke down completely. He closed his eyes and spread his arms out wide, the winds of hell blowing his jacket and hair back. Michael jumped on him and he and Sam fell into the pit together. The earth swallowed them whole. Then, there was stillness once again. As if nothing ever happened. Your body crawled over to the grass that had just taken him.  

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

Present Day  

You moved around your apartment, tiding up and such. You touched the picture of you, Sam, and Dean. Your smiles were wide and happy. Simpler times when the world wasn’t cruel. When you were whole and there wasn’t an ache in your chest. The days were long without him, the nights even longer. It had been a year and half. A year and a half since he jumped into the pit. Bobby called you from time to time, but you never answered. You couldn’t answer. You couldn’t look back at that life anymore. You had died that day too, not able to feel since. Food did nothing for you. Wine tasted like water in your mouth. The warmth of the sun never seemed to be enough to thaw your cold skin. No matter how much you slept, you still felt tired. You went through the motions of your day, work, relax, eat, sleep. None of it mattered. You had been dead for a year and a half, just like Sam. A knock on your door made you jump. Your brow furrowed and you walked hesitantly toward the door. You opened it to see a familiar face. Dean stood in front of you.  

“Hey, kid.” He smiled, his green eyes holding yours.  

“Dean?” You couldn’t believe he was here.  

“Mind if I come in?” He stepped around you, making his way inside and sitting down at your dining room table.  

“What's going on? Why are you here?” You sat down at your table across from him.  

“Sam’s alive.” Dean said matter of factly. You felt dizzy, like you had just been punched in the gut. You couldn’t understand what Dean was saying. You shook your head and swallowed tickly.  

“What?” Your voice barley above a whisper.  

“He’s been alive for about a year and a half now.” Dean said, his face twisting. He knew you were going to flip out.  

“What! Why didn’t anyone tell me?! Dean! What the hell! Take me to him. Take me to him right now.” You screamed, grabbing your jacket and moving toward the door.  

“Alright, hold on. Look, there is a lot you don’t know. I promise to take you to Sam, but I need you to listen to me first.” His hand was on your arm, keeping you from bolting out the door.  

“Fine, tell me in the car.” You ripped your arm out of his grasp and practically ran down the stairs and into the impala.  

Bobby’s house

“So, he didn’t have a soul?” You asked, leaning against the door frame and staring at him on the bed. Dean shook his head, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. You couldn’t stop staring at him. His face peaceful in his deep slumber. You had missed him so much. Missed the small moments with him. He was your entire world and you were so happy he was back. This was going to work. You knew it. He would wake up.  

“He hardly cared about seeing me.” Dean said, running a hand over his face. He looked exhausted. You touched his shoulder, sending him a reassuring look.  

“How was your year with Lisa?” You smiled at the blush that ran across his cheeks.  

“Shut up.” He mumbled. You giggled and the two of you made your way upstairs.

About an hour later you walked down into the living room from upstairs.  

“Hey, Dean is he aw-” Your voice caught in your throat when you saw him. He was standing in the middle of the living room, alive and well. Your heart dropped and all the air left your body. Your stomach flipped in your gut and your eyes watered at the sight of him. “Sam.” You whispered his name.  

“Y/N.” He whispered back. You couldn’t control the sob that ripped its way out of you at the sound of his voice. His feet took him to you in two strides. He placed his hands on either side of your face and pulled you to him, his lips crashing against yours. You made a noise that was somewhere between a moan and a wail. For the first time in a year and a half you felt something. You felt him. His warm and soft lips on yours. His hands on your skin. Your mouth opened to him and the first thing you tasted was him. You had dreamed of this moment for months before he fell into the cage. It was better than you could have ever imagined. Dean cleared his throat behind you, breaking you and Sam apart.  

The rest of the day passed with food, drink, and laughs. You told Sam about your apartment and Dean told some stories of his year.  

“So, you settled down and got a normal job?” Sam asked you.  

“I tried to keep hunting, I really did, but I couldn’t. Even though I was all on my own before I met you guys, I just couldn’t do it anymore. After you....ya know, I felt like I had nothing left to give. I couldn’t go out there and kill monsters when I felt so broken and helpless. So, I made myself comfortable. Lived a boring life for a while.” You took a swig from your beer and shrugged your shoulders.  

“How was it?” Sam leaned forward on his elbows, interest in his face.  

“I just told you, it was boring as hell.” You smiled and for the first time in a long time you actually felt it on your face. Sam and Dean both laughed and you closed your eyes, hearing your favorite sound once again.  

That night you couldn’t sleep and you made your way outside, knowing you would find him out there too. His back was to you when you stepped outside. You touched his shoulder and your lips parted at the feeling of his skin against yours. His arms wrapped around you tightly. Your face tilted up to look into his face.  

“I love you.” He said, his breath mingling with yours in the pitch black of night.  

“I love you so much, Sam.” You whispered, looking deep into his eyes. His head leaned down and his lips captured yours once again. Unlike before, this kiss was full of passion and heat. You grabbed a fistful of his hair in your fingers and arched your back into him. He wrapped one arm around your waist and bent his knees, lifting you to him. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you moaned into his mouth. His tongue tasted every inch of you. His fingers twisted into your hair. It wasn’t until he pulled away slightly that you noticed you were crying. You sniffled, chucking slightly.  

“You ok, baby?” He put you down on the ground, his fingers wiping your tears away.  

“I’m just so happy. Sam, you have no idea how much I missed you.” You intertwined your fingers into his and stepped even closer to him.  

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice was calm and light. You bit your lip and swallowed, nodding your head slightly.  

“After I watched you fall into the pit, I had nothing left. I felt empty and broken, there was this aching hole inside of me that I could never fill. I couldn’t taste food, my favorite song just sounded like noise in my ears. No matter how hot I made the water or no matter how long I sat in the sun, my skin was always cold. You are what keeps me going, Sam. When I lost you, I was overwhelmed with grief and sorrow. I was just a shell of the person I once was. I was gone too. Now though, your back. Here you are in front of me. Telling me you love me. I have waited to tell you that you are the love of my life for so long. Long before Lucifer and that damn pit. Sam, you are the love of my life. There is nothing else when you are by my side.” Your hands were running up and down his arms, your eyes looking directly into his. “I’m warm again, Sammy. I’m full again, and it's all because you are here.” You reached up onto your tippy toes and pressed your lips against his once again.  

“Y/N, you are everything to me. Do you want to know why Lucifer didn’t kill you that day? Because I wouldn’t let him. He tried and I fought with all my strength to stop him, because I couldn’t watch you die. You are the love of my life too, baby. Your mine and I'm yours. Forever. I'm never letting you go again.” His hands came around your face, holding you so close. His breath fanning across your skin. “It’s you and me for the rest of our lives. I promise. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but you’re my whole world now.” He wrapped you into him, holding you tightly against him. You listened to his beating heart and closed your eyes. Finally, the world was right again.  

[ilguna]

Belamour - Chapter One (f.o)

summary: they say the odds tend to favor those who need them. well, they were wrong.

warnings; swearing, death mention

wc; 4.8k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

The horrid sound of wailing is enough to wake you up from the dead of sleep. Sweat runs down your back in tiny droplets, tickling certain nerves, making you shiver even though it’s nowhere near cold. As you instinctively search the room, expecting an intruder to be waiting in the doorway--you’re met with nothing.

The room is dark, and quiet besides the muffled sobs that sound from the corner of the room. When your eyes land on the crib, you’re able to see your sister, desperate to get out and get the day started already. That or she’s tired of the silence, and she’s hungry.

“Please.” she asks politely, hands outstretched for you to help her.

You run a hand through your hair, getting it to stop sticking against your forehead. As you slip out of the small bed, you stretch your arms above your head, yawning loudly to try and get the grogginess to leave. It’s no use this early.

“Good morning.” you scoop her up gently, going to set her on her feet. The second she realizes this, she grabs a hold of your shirt tightly, clearly in no mindset to let it go anytime soon. So, instead you let her lay her head against your shoulder like she did when she was a baby, and go to leave your bedroom.

The second you step out, you realize that the house is empty. And a clear indicator is the fact that the curtain’s aren’t open to allow sunshine in. They’re still drawn shut tightly to make sure that no peeping neighbors get the pleasure of seeing what it looks like in the morning.

Although, with the severity of today’s date, you’re sure no one would bother to do something like that. Maybe some other day, or month. But things are already pretty low at the moment, why make it worse?

As you tuck your sister, Alyssum, into her booster seat, you wonder what there is for breakfast besides oatmeal. If you even think to bring it up, she’ll undoubtedly throw a fit over it. So, you take a peek into the old, paint-chipped cupboards to try something that won’t cause a fight. 

You find nothing.

You pull down the oatmeal, and then for good measure, grab the sugar. Right when you turn to give her a speech about breakfast options being limited today, the lock on the front door rattles. You close your mouth and lean against the counter, watching as the handle turns and then opens to reveal your two older brothers.

The first and oldest to come through the door is Reed. He’s got an old backpack over his shoulders, and in each hand is a jug of water. Alyssum pushes herself up in her seat to look over the back of the chair and see who’s joined you. When Reed realizes he’s got an audience, he smiles.

“You look rough.”

“You look rough.” you mock, he laughs at the tone, setting the jugs onto the end of the kitchen counter, and turns to face your second oldest brother, Mox.

In his hands is a blue cooler that seems to be weighing him down. He’s hunched over, teeth clearly clenched and looking disgraceful. He blows a single strand of his long hair out of his face repeatedly, likely irritated that he’s been stuck with the heaviest object of them all.

“Need help?” Reed asks.

And in the same exact way you mocked Reed moments earlier, Mox says; “Need help?” in a high-pitched voice, “Shut up.”

Reed snorts, delighted with himself. He slips off the backpack and sets it onto the counter. When he unzips it, he starts unloading everything he must’ve got while he was out with Mox. It starts with bathroom items first; shampoo, body wash, toothpaste, a brand new package of toothbrushes. And then immediately after is what you were hoping for, food other than oatmeal.

“I’m hungry.” Alyssum whines, Reed slides the fresh loaf of bread your way. This is from the local Bakery, this isn’t from The Square.

“How much was this?” you ask, looking at Reed. 

When he doesn’t answer, you look to Mox instead. The two of you have a long staring contest, which is made up of you mostly waiting for him to cave. And he does, with a sigh, he looks back to the cooler and pushes it into a small space between the wall and the counter just big enough to fit it sideways.

“We didn’t have much of a choice.” Mox says, pushing on the lid to make sure it’s shut tight, “The Square was out, they were busier than usual today. If you’d gone, you’d understand.”

“So you couldn’t have gotten something else?” your attention is turned to Reed, now.

Reed shrugs, “We had a little extra change to spare. And really, it wasn’t all that much. In fact, we were practically begged to buy it because it would go to waste. He lowered the price considerably for us.”

“Enough to make a profit but now enough to gorge us.” Mox agrees, “It’s fresh too.”

You nod, hoping that they aren’t making up some blatant lie just because they wanted a fresh loaf of bread from once. You know that the bread from The Square can be daunting at times, but if they didn’t dance around the food for so long, then they wouldn’t psyche themselves out.

Plus, it’s not like anyone along that alley would willingly give anyone diseases or sicknesses. Especially not your family, with how long you’ve been going to get food from them. For you all to leave now would mean to risk going out of business, losing regular customers like that.

You pull the bread knife out of the silverware drawer, turning it over to make sure that it’s been cleaned thoroughly since Mox has a habit of not double-checking when it comes to putting away anything supposedly clean and dry from the rack. When you’re sure it’s fine, you sink the blade into the top, and find yourself satisfied when you don’t have to fight for the bread to give.

You plate a slide and a half of the semi-warm bread, and set it in front of Alyssum. She reaches over immediately, tearing apart the crust from the soft middle, and goes straight to eating. Mox gets her a small drinking cup, halfway filled with water and sets it beside the plate.

“I’m gonna go pick out our outfits.” you push the cutting board and knife away from the edge of the counter. You scoop up the toiletries to drop off on your way to the back of the house, “Feel free to start dumping water in the tub.”

“Sure.” Reed says.

You set up everything neatly and in their respective places inside of the bathroom. Above the glass tub is a tiny window with tiny curtains. You open them enough to allow light in the room, hoping to save gas in the lanterns for nights you actually need them. On the way out, you pass Reed, who’s got the first bucket of many that will fill the tub.

You start with the easy outfit first. This one will cause little to no thought when it comes to it. Alyssum is still relatively small. She’s grown since last year of course, but she’ll still fit into the dress you wore when you were her age. So, you pull it out of the bottom of the dresser by her crib--that seriously needs to be upgraded into a small bed, instead--and lay it on top. 

A dress, a clean change of underwear, socks, her tiny Jane’s. You place a small cardigan on the occasion she gets cold in this summer heat while she waits. Then, you move onto the more challenging task. You find yourself standing in front of your parent’s bedroom, unable to open the door and go inside.

Every year, it’s the same struggle. The same argument inside of your head. Why bother going inside when you can wear last year’s dress? And then you remind yourself that last year’s dress doesn’t fit anymore, and therefore you need a bigger one. None of you have the money to spare for a new one, so you have no choice but to try and fit into what used to be your mother’s dresses.

You know that the second the door opens, the old smells will be overwhelming. It’ll be enough to bring tears to your eyes and freeze you in the middle of the room. If it’s too strong, you’ll probably collapse to the floor like you did two years ago, and you ended up succumbing to the onslaught of tears that year.

You don’t want that to happen again.

You should be able to just ask one of your brother’s to do this task for you, then. If it’s so unbearable painful to go through. But it’s just as uncomfortable for them as it is for you. Reed doesn’t show it anymore, but you know that he doesn’t like to be put into situations where he’s compared to your father. And if anyone even mentions the fact that Mox looks like your mother, tears will well in his eyes and he has to excuse himself from the conversation, never staying long after her mention.

It’s been a couple of years, but the wounds are still very fresh in your minds. 

Knowing that the tub water is getting cold now, you tilt your head and grab the cold doorknob, turning it slowly like you’re afraid you’ll stir up memories. You avoid the squeaky floorboard strategically, and take your last breath of air to ensure that the smell of the room won’t be a distraction.

The first sight you’re greeted with, is the mirror that’s directly across the room from where you stand. You’re able to see that your hair is messy, and you’ve got a tired look in your eyes. To be fair, you haven’t really had a chance to fix either of those things just yet, and you’re hoping the bath will.

Wasting no time, you move over to the wardrobe. Inside on hangers are old suit jackets that belonged to your father, and dresses that you never really saw your mother wear except on formal occasions, which were rare. You pick through the dresses, looking for one that’ll fit you. Over the years you’ve grown out of even her wardrobe, proving just how much of a small woman she was.

You go ahead and settle on mustard yellow one way off to the left. You tried it on once, way in the distant past. Back then it was much too big for you, so you had to give up the surprisingly pretty color. Now, you’re fearing that it’s too small for you. Oh, how the tables seemed to have turned.

You shut the creaky wooden door as you situate the dress over your arm, making sure that the doors don’t slam back onto the frame. Your lungs are already burning, upset at your slow pace in the room. And the exact moment you go to hurry up, you manage to stir up a puff of dust that makes home inside of your nose.

Oh shit.

You sneeze, turning your head away from the dress to make sure that no matter what, it stays clean. It’s not just once, or twice. After the third sneeze has left you, Reed rounds the corner to check up on you. At first, his face is grim at the sight of you in your parent’s bedroom, but then he’s amused.

“It’s dusty in there, huh?”

“Shut up.” you sniff, and then instantly regret it because it’s obvious that there’s still stuff up your nose. You quickly shut the door behind you to make sure that after round two, there won’t be a three.

Once your body seems to get a hold of itself, your eyes are watering and you feel a little miserable. You’re just glad that you don’t have allergies like this all year round. In your room again, you fold the dress in half neatly, placing it on top of the dark oak desk. Then, your underwear, socks right on top. Off to the side, your own black flats.

You poke your head out into the doorway to the front of the house to see that Mox and Reed are at the table, eating their breakfast. Alyssum seems to be about halfway done, her pace slowing considerably. It looks like she’s done, and you’ll unfortunately have to finish off whatever soggy bread she didn’t touch.

In the bathroom, you shut the door and set out a towel. The water is probably luke-warm, mostly on the side of cold. And the second you dip your toe in, you’re so right. You scrub your skin with the sickeningly sweet soap that they had bought. As if the first smell isn’t nauseating enough, the shampoo doesn’t help much at all, either.

At least it’ll be able to temporarily wash away the smell of salt on your skin. Even if you haven’t been on the dock, in a boat or into the water in a week or so, the smell never seems to go away. It’s only a matter of time before you naturally begin to go back to the original scent that plagues the district.

And it’s not even close to the smell of sweat. In fact, the salt smell compared to the sweat, makes the salt smell sweet. Not as much as the soaps from The Square, but it’s a hell of a lot more pleasant than sweat and body odor.

When you get out of the bath, you dress in a second set of clothes that you had laid out in preparation of giving Alyssum a bath. To keep the dress dry, you’ll wear an old nightgown. Luckily for you, Alyssum doesn’t get fussy during bathtime, and she finds herself enjoying it.

And with how old she is now, you don’t really have to do anything other than monitor her. So, while she uses the soap and swoons at the brand new scent, you brush your hair free of tangles and dread the moment where you have to make it look nice for this afternoon. At the end of the bath, you still have to wash Alyssum’s hair, but right after you’re able to leave the humid room, taking the hair brush with you.

“Bathroom is free!” You shout, heading towards your room.

You shut the door behind you, setting Alyssum onto the edge of your bed. She complies patiently as you take your time getting her dressed. You skip over the shoes for now, since they’re a little tight on her feet now. Might as well let her be comfortable for as long as possible.

She manages to find a toy to entertain herself while you move to getting dressed. You make sure that your skin is dry entirely, afraid of the dress sticking to you while getting it on. While you pull it on slowly, you come to realize that the dress is loose. It’s not as nearly as tight as you thought it would be.

You dry your hair when the damp towel you used earlier, squeezing the most out. Alyssum mimics you in the motion, and manages to get the corner of your bed wet in the process. Hopefully by tonight, it’ll be dry and disgustingly wet against your feet.

You go ahead and do Alyssum’s hair, assuming that your brothers are still busy in the bathroom. You sit behind her on the bed, gently bringing the brush through her hair because you can’t feel the pain like she can. Alyssum let’s you know when it hurts, and you work your way around it. You bring half of it back, use a tiny band to secure it, and mostly leave it loose for taking it out later.

As you start your hair, you can hear the bathroom door open. With Reed being done, it’s only Mox left to go inside. You manage to get your hair to stay in place, allowing full movement of your head in any direction. It’s a relief, really. To not have to worry about that this entire afternoon.

On your way out of the bedroom, you slip on your flats and wait for Aly to slide off the bed. She lands on her feet, let’s out a nice giggle, and then rushes out of the room and towards the right. Going straight to Reed, probably.

You hang the towels up on the hooks outside the bathroom in the hallway. The bathroom is too small to have so many things clustered around at once. If and when guests come over, you’ll take the towels and whatever else might be out here, and tuck them away in the cupboards or singular shelf to resume the idea that the house is nice.

In the kitchen, you grab yourself a slice of bread and enjoy it while you wait on your brothers. Eventually, Mox comes out and wanders the hall to the shared bedroom with Reed in nothing but a towel. And not even a second later, Reed comes around fully dressed with Alyssum on his arm.

“I’ve got to do my hair now, pumpkin.” Reed says, setting her on the couch, “After that we’re gonna go.”

She huffs, but doesn’t say anything. You grab a glass of water, being careful with the jug. Once you’re done, you set everything that had been used into one neat stack on the left side of the sink to indicate that it’s all dirty. When you come back later, you’ll probably be the one to take care of it, since Reed and Mox will likely go out fishing as soon as possible.

Mox is ready before you know it, joining you, Reed and Alyssum in the kitchen. Upon agreeing that you’ve got everything you need—Reed had put Alyssum’s shoes on—and you’re not forgetting anything, you all head out, dragging your feet on it.

The second you step foot out of the house, you’re welcomed with the sight of Caspian’s family doing the same. Caspian is an old friend of both Reed and Mox. You’ve tolerated him since middle school, but recently stopped paying attention to him because he has a bad habit of getting on your nerves. Whether that be purposeful or not, you don’t pride yourself on surrounding yourself with people you don’t like.

Although, it’s not really like you have a choice. He’s a friend of Reed and Mox’s, and they’re not gonna leave him behind just because you say so. Your brothers love you dearly, but not that dearly.

“Hey!” You hear Caspian call, “Long time no see.”

“Haha.” Reed says, heading over after locking the door.

You tune the banter between them out, because you’ve got bigger fish to fry. Today is reaping day, and today your name is in the bowl four times. And compared to the people that have to take tesserae, it’s nothing. The four little slips of paper with your name on them, mean absolutely nothing. Especially with the population of District Four.

However, it’s still four. And next year the number will be five. And the year after that the number will be six. The more it grows, the more your odds increase. The thought alone is enough to make your heart stutter and struggle to resume it’s regular beat. 

To say that you’re afraid is an understatement.

But you’re one little person in a sea of thousands. There’s no way you’ll get chosen. And since the odds are supposed to favor those in need of help, your name should be skipped right over. Two valuable people in your family’s life have died already, and you don’t want to be the third.

Reed and Mox are barely above the reaping age. There’s only a year’s gap between the two of them. So, Reed is twenty and Mox is nineteen. If the two of them scraped on by without being chosen, then you should be just fine too. Plus, they were taking tesserae for a good two years while you guys got back on your feet.

The walk to the stage on your part is relatively quiet. You have nothing to hold onto since Mox is carrying your younger sister, so you pull on your fingers to ease your nerves. 

After a certain point, you decide to hum to fill the silence. The more you walk, the bigger the crowd gets. Until you’ve come upon the line of where you need to get signed in at. Without any instruction, you go ahead and get into line, still pulling on the finger that they’ll inevitably sting.

By the time you reach the front of the line, you feel sick. A part of you wants to believe that it’s just simple intuition, but you know better than that. This happens every year, and this year isn’t any different. Your finger is stung, and then you’re ushered towards where the eligible teens for the reaping stand in sections.

Your brothers catch you just before you go inside. Mox assured you that none of your hair is out of place, and Reed gives you a small pep talk on how it’s unlikely, but never be caught off guard.

You bid them goodbye, heading into the fifteen section on the left with the girls. They let you in freely, and you stand and try not to sway in the hot sun. It’s exactly overhead, maybe even a little behind. As long as it’s not directly shining into your eyes, you don’t really care where it is, exactly.

You take a quick look behind you to check up on your brothers. Unfortunately, since the back rows are the older kids, they also get taller. You can’t exactly see your brothers, but if you strain on your toes hard enough, you can barely make out the top of Alyssum’s head. Clearly, she’s on Reed’s shoulders.

When you turn back to the stage, you’re greeted with the sight of the mayor helping Mags onto the stage. Mags is the only female victor of District Four, therefore she’s the only mentor that the female tributes can get. Which is a bummer, considering her age. She might mentor every year, but that doesn’t mean she’s too knowledgeable about the technologies inside of the arena now.

She was the winner of the eleventh games, which were fifty-four years ago. Talk about there being a time difference between when she was in, and when people go in now. Back then you’re pretty sure that they only fought in one arena every single year. 

Following Mags is a small parade of male victors. The first one seems to be just as old as Mags, maybe a little younger. You think his name is Luther, but you’re not entirely sure. Behind Luther is Scotch, a lot younger than Luther. Scotch is completely bald, and seems to have a scowl on his face.

The final person to walk out is Anchor. He’s the most recent victor of Four, and he won—ironically—four years ago. Despite this, seeing him on the stage is still very new to a lot of you. Especially because of the age gap between Anchor and Scotch, which is a good ten to fifteen years, at least.

You’re sure that District Four would have more victors if it weren’t for the careers and how they prepare for the games. It’s no secret that they’re doing something with their tributes. The number of victors they have is unnatural. And one very good example of this is the latest female and male victors of District One.

Typically, you wouldn’t remember their names, but it’s the fact that they’re siblings and back to back wins that makes it stick in your mind. And they won so recently too. First, Gloss won the sixty-third games, and then his sister, Cashmere, won the sixty-fourth. 

Both from District One. They’re siblings. They’re back to back wins. That’s never heard of. It’s just not normal, and the Capitol has to know this. They just let it slide because they’re a favorite, which is so unfathomably unfair.

You manually unclench your teeth and settle for pulling on your non-injured finger while you wait. It doesn’t take too long, soon the victors have sat down, the sections are full and the anthem is playing over the stage. You watch as your mayor shuffles up to the microphone, clears his throat, and then begins the wretched speech that you have memorized by now.

It’s just a background history on why the Hunger Games had been created. It’s been nearly a century, and the Capitol is still hung up over something that happened sixty years ago. And it’s even funnier to think that they’re punishing the descendants of their beloved ‘criminals’. Simply being alive in the districts nowadays is offensive to the Capitol.

The speech finally ends, the mayor closing it up promptly to keep on time with the program. He introduces your Capitol Representative, and then takes his respective seat on the right side of the doors, opposite of where the victors currently sit.

Elysia Petalsong—honestly, their names are so ridiculous. As if their body modifications weren’t heinous enough, now they’ve got last names of fairytale characters. Anyway, she’s looking a lot more humble this year. Her outfit isn’t as outrageous as the last, which was mostly so she could get a good year's worth of spotlight. Now she’s just as lame as she was before.

She wears a blonde wig, and you can tell because there was one year her hair was brown, and her hairline wasn’t shifting every time she moved her head. She wears a yellow outfit that strangely resembles the sun. If the fabric had been a little more metallic, there’s no doubt that she’d be reflecting the sun right into all of your eyes.

There’s a huge smile on her face as she leans into the microphone. Even from this distance, you can see her unnaturally white teeth. She stands tall, “Good afternoon, citizens of District Four,” unlike other Capitol Representatives you’ve heard, her accent doesn’t stand out nearly as much, “Happy Hunger Games.”

Before you know it, you’re involuntarily rolling your eyes. They land on the ground before you, and you can see that some dirt and dust has been kicked up and onto your black flats. Luckily, there’s no actual imprints of someone stepping on them.

The Capitol finds joy in the games, while the districts writhe in agony. You’re not sure how a bunch of people can find fun in watching twenty-three teenagers fight to the death. But then again, who’s to say that the Capitol citizens are even human? They don’t act like it. They don’t think like it.

“We’ll start with the ladies.” Elysia chirps, making your heart skip in your chest. All at once, the nerves seem to resurface. And even with your greatest attempts to repress and ignore, it’s impossible. 

You wish it were possible to turn around and see your brothers. You know for a fact that would bring comfort. But there’s tall girls behind you, and your eyes seemed glued to Elysia, monitoring her every movement.

She moves smoothly to her left, gazing into the bowl as if the white paper slips inside are mesmerizing. You can’t help but to wonder if she gets a power trip each time she pulls one out. Knowing that her fingers could have selected the next victor.

She reaches in, the rings on her fingers clinking against the rim of the bowl. She hovers for a moment, like she can’t decide which one will give the best outcome. The tension that had started in your stomach has risen past your chest and straight into your throat. 

You hold your breath, it’s not like you have much of a choice anyway.

She picks out a paper slip, and you can audibly hear the other girls around you hold their breaths too. All of you share the same amount of anxiety as to who will be chosen this year. Eyes wide, and some praying that it won’t be them.

Elysia moves back to her microphone, taking her time with unfolding the paper so that it doesn’t accidentally rip. She reads it to herself, it seems and then that smile spreads back over her face. She looks out to you girls.

“District Four’s girl tribute is (Y/n) Gallows.”

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Two Fathers

More writing stuff. Not sure how far I was going to take this since no one is really interested.

The Netherlands

The roar of the crowd thundered over into the bright blue sky over the soccer stadium. Dominic was so high up in the stands that the players looked like tiny puppets running about the green pitch, following the rolling white ball and sprinting after it in white and blue jerseys. The match was 0 and 0 for the entire game. The goalies on both sides were too good. Neither team could slip in and score no matter how they tried. The sun was beating down on the exhausted crowd who was ready for anyone to score at this point. 

Dominic wiped his face on his shirt. Locally, he and his father were supposed to be rooting for the blue team. Not the white, but he really didn’t care. The important thing was being out having fun and sharing a beer with his dad on a summer day.

There wouldn’t be many more days like this. He’d gotten approved for a college in the UK and sitting in his room on the nightstand under a poster of a heavy metal band was a one way ticket to London. He had gotten a scholarship to study engineering and would spend the next eight years pursuing a doctorate. His hope was to become a civil engineer. His dream was to build and work on bridges. His father was an experienced crane operator. The idea of weight and balance and counterbalance fascinated him. And wouldn’t it be great if, after graduating, he and his father could work on the same project? The remotest possibility of that fantasy was a ways off. Even then, he would have to graduate early to make it out of college before his father retired.

The players charged towards the goal and the crowd roared encouragement, but again, the goalie caught the shot and the noise went down to a disappointed murmur.

Dominic’s father, a heavy set man in his early fifties, took him to games quite often. He was wearing a jersey for the team and a baseball cap that compressed his sweat soaked hair. He wiped his face with a cloth and stuffed it in his back pocket.

The weather was unseasonably hot. This wasn’t an area where most people were concerned about summer heat. In the past, if things got warm in the home, an open window and box fan would suffice. But now, the news was full of stories of the elderly suffering heat stroke in their homes and lying dead for days before they were found. In the city, venues like the soccer stadium were often the only relief from the heat. You could drive an hour out to get to the beach or thirty minutes in the other direction if you wanted to find a swimming pool. But in response to the heat wave, the soccer stadium enticed guests with free cups of ice and water and the soda fountains were a reduced price for season ticket holders.

However, the heat was starting to defeat even this strategy. Three times games were canceled because it was just too hot to be safe for the players. The result was a backlog of games, disappointed fans, and dodgy scheduling. If you didn’t have a ticket in advance, you would have a hard time getting one. People who had tickets for postponed games could redeem them for a future game. So now the empty seats were filled with fans who had missed games a week ago. When this game came up, his father was on the computer, spamming the refresh key until he managed to snag these seats. He kept them as a surprise.

The players filed out of the field for a brief time out. “All this trouble for a double-aught game.” Dominic said regretfully. “Did you want me to go get a refill?”.

He watched his father reach into his back pocket and pull out his cellphone and he saw his father’s eyes go wide. His face paled despite the summer heat. Dominic straightened in alarm. “What’s the matter?”

His father took one breath and then another. “There’s a problem.” He began and then stopped. “A big one. At work.”

“Are you serious? Ugh.” He rolled his eyes. “It really can’t wait?”

His father licked his lips and stared blankly at the empty field. His chest was rising and falling rapidly even though he wasn’t moving. A few more text messages came in but he didn’t look at them. He just put the phone into his back pocket, silent. It was like he had turned completely wooden.

“Are you alright…?” Dominic asked softly.

The man swallowed, his throat bobbing. He took a quick breath. “Yes. Well, then… I have to go.” He stood up, not looking his son in the eye.

“I’ll go with you!” Dominic rose but his father shook his head. 

“No. I’ll order an Uber for you.” He wrote down quickly on the back of a white paper napkin. “Here is the license plate number. It will be a red car with tinted windows.”

His father gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m sorry.” He said, before he hurried out of the stands and up the stairs.

The crowd of people, exhausted from the heat and the long game, filed out of the stadium. Dominic lifted his phone and checked for any missed calls or messages, but there were none. His father didn’t call him back or return his texts. His mother didn’t either. The stadium opened into a large plaza between it and the parking lot and lines of ice cream trucks had already started to attract customers. Normally, Dominic never would have passed up ice cream, but worry about what was going on at his father’s job kept him from joining the line. 

The Uber ride should be waiting to take him home. 

The sun was sinking lower in the sky, blazing a dull red thanks to the wild fires that were burning thousands of miles away.  The crowd thinned as he got closer to the curb where the rideshare vehicles were permitted to idle and wait for their clients. Dominic scanned the vehicles for a red car and found it.

He briefly paused and checked the license plate.

 “Dominic?” The man asked from the window.

He nodded. The driver got out and opened the backseat and then got back behind the wheel. Inside smelled of clean leather. It was cool, a welcome respite. “You know where I’m going?”

The driver had very broad shoulders and a square jaw and a short buzzcut of blonde hair. Despite the heat, he was wearing a blazer over his thin shirt.

“You’re in military training?” Dominic asked.

“You’ve got a sharp eye. Or is it that obvious?” The driver said as he turned the wheel of the car, carefully watching the road as they pulled away and started to drive through the expansive parking area full of gleaming cars. “I’m in the military now. Just making a bit of money while I’m on leave.”

“Military stipend not enough? Or does Uber really pay that well?” Dominic asked with a smirk. “Maybe I should sign up once I’m in London. For Uber I mean. Not the military.” 

He looked down at his phone again. There were no calls and texts but now that he was in the air conditioned space, he realized that he had no signal at all. He tried to text but the error popped up telling him his texts were not sent. He sighed. “What’s wrong with this phone?” 

He tried restarting it. He spent the time waiting for it to reboot staring out the windows at the line of people walking to their vehicles. A family with two children, one sleeping in a stroller and the other limp on his father’s shoulder, were getting into a minivan. The mother was on her phone. But when he looked down, his phone had restarted but once again had no signal. Maybe his dad had tried to call him but he was sitting on a dead phone all this time.

“Hey, can I use your phone?” He asked the driver.

“I’m afraid I can’t close the app or it will end the ride.” The driver said without looking back.

“Okay, I’ll get out and ask someone if I can use theirs.” They were already stopped in line to pay the toll to leave the parking lot, so he didn’t think anything of getting out to use someone else’s phone. But when he pulled the handle on the door, the door was stuck. “I think you have the child-lock on.”

The driver looked straight ahead, not acknowledging his words.

“Hey. Can you let me out?” The mother was getting into the van. She shut the door and the brake lights came on.

The man who was driving continued to look ahead, like he was some sort of robot and not responding to his commands.

“Hey! Can you not hear me? I said-...”

The man suddenly reached into his jacket and pulled out a black metal pistol. He pointed it at him without even turning around to look. The sight of the weapon sent a visceral fear through Dominic. He slammed himself against the door. “No! No!”

The muzzle flashed and something hit him. It stung, like a wasp sting he got at summer camp. 

“He shot me… He shot…” Dominic moaned.

The man put the gun away and turned around like nothing happened. Dominic felt dizzy and light headed. He turned to the window but no longer had the strength to call for help. His eyes slid shut and his world went from darkness to nothingness.

Dominic opened his eyes in a panic, immediately asking where he was. His mouth tasted like blood, his hands were tied to a post. He was lying on a bed. A piece of cloth between his teeth was so tight that it stretched the corner of his mouth. It hurt and bled. He jerked hard and the restraints around his hands tightened.

“He’s awake.”  A deep feminine voice attracted his attention. A woman in a black tightly woven combat suit stood up from a wooden chair that was placed against a stone foundation wall next to his bed. Her hair was dark and tied up in a ponytail at the nape of her neck that swayed between her shoulder blades as she walked. A black belt around her waist carried copper colored long, fang-like bullets. A long knife was at her hip. She wore black combat boots with thick treads that left a trail of wet tracks as she made her way to a door. She opened the door and a light lit up her face. Her nose was painted and long, her eyes dark and framed with thick lashes.

Above where she had sat was a thin dingy window covered with high grass. It was dark in this room save for the single bare yellow light bulb on the ceiling. His shirt was gone. His phone was gone. He gasped, struggling to breathe through his nose and around the cloth. He remembered being shot in the chest but he wasn’t even bleeding and there was no sign of any other wounds.

The man who had driven him and shot him cast a shadow as he walked in, swinging arms as thick as oak trees. He hadn’t noticed his eyes before, steely grey almost white. He was still in his cotton shirt but the jacket was gone and the holster was displayed with that same pistol. He pulled away until the zip ties bit into his wrists and his hands immediately became numb. He pulled and pulled as that man reached for his face. His thick fingers and cracked fingernails untied the gag. “Keep quiet and we won’t gag you.”

“What do you want? What … What do you want from me? My dad. He’s just a construction worker. He doesn’t have any money!” Dominic sobbed in fear. “Please. We don’t have any money!”

“Listen!” The man’s voice was sharp and cut through his panic. His face was inches from his and he could see a slight blond stubble and the remnants of a scar that crossed over his upper lip. That lip twisted in disgust revealing yellow teeth. His breath smelled like tobacco smoke. “The man you think is your father is not your father. That man ran away with you when you were young. We’re taking you back.”

“What?” 

“He was assigned to care for you as a toddler and escaped. I suppose he let his feelings get in the way of his duties.” The man reached up and adjusted the restraints to allow blood flow again. “Don’t struggle so much. You’ll cut your hands off.”

“No, you’ve got the wrong person.” Dominic blinked away the sweat rolling into his eyes. The returning blood gave him pins and needles as it pulsed through his wrists. The gag had soaked up all the moisture in his mouth. His throat was so dry he could barely swallow. He called out in a hoarse voice. “This is a mistake. My father can prove it. Just let me call him. Just give me my phone. Let me call him!”

The man and the woman looked at him with calm pity while he was gasping in panic. The woman crossed her arms over her chest. They looked at each other and Dominic held his breath.

“Let him talk to his father.” A low voice came from outside the door. The two people straightened up, their spines upright and stiff and they turned in attention. Immediately, the woman walked to the other side of the room where Dominic’s phone was on a charger.

“My phone isn’t working…” Dominic sniffed, suddenly aware he was crying.

“Your phone is fine.” She said. Her voice was soft and gentle as she approached him. “We jammed it to keep you from being tracked.” 

“Why?” He asked.

“I already told you.” She pressed his finger against the sensor to unlock the phone and scrolled down to his contacts. Then she held the phone to his ear.

The electronic sound of ringing could be heard through the earpiece and his mind raced. All he had to do was talk to his dad and he would clear all this up. But the phone just rang. As it did, another phone began to ring in the other room. It rang with his father’s ringtone, the song ‘Margaritaville.”

“Dad?!” His father’s phone was here? But he was supposed to have gone to work! Did they capture him here too? “Dad! You have to explain! Tell them… show them my papers!” He shouted at the door, towards the sound of the phone ringing.

Dominic looked at the woman desperately as she held the phone to his ear.

The deep voice from before echoed from outside the room. “Pick up the phone and talk to him. Tell him the truth.”

The phone picked up. He could hear his father’s voice both through the phone and in the other room, echoing each other. “Dominic. Are you hurt?”

“What is going on? Who are these people?”

The other end of the line was silent and no sound came from the other side of the room. Why wasn’t his father talking? He should be telling them that this is a mistake. He should be threatening them with legal action. He should be calling the cops. Why was he here? Were they holding him at gunpoint?

“You’re going to get through this…” His father’s voice was soft and soothing. Even in this terrifying circumstance where he’d been shot, bound, and gagged, that voice slowed his breathing.

“Dad. Tell them. Tell them, they’ve got it wrong…” More silence greeted him and his eyes wildly scanned the room. “Where’s mom. Do they have mom?!”

“Your mother is fine. She’s at home. Listen to me. No matter what… you’re my boy. Even if we’re not related by blood.”

Dominic’s panic increased and his voice cracked. “No. No you… you have to tell them. Did they threaten you? Do they have a gun to your head?! Why are you lying?”

“I’m not lying.”

“But you… you… you took me to the passport office, we… showed them the birth certificate.” The memory of the birth certificate came to his mind as clear as day. “Your name and Mom’s name was on it. Dad, what are you saying!” His teeth clenched and chattered. Their names were on the birth certificate. That memory was what he clung to as his world was coming apart.

“The birth certificate was falsified. It was a fake document.” His father said.

Dominic refused to believe that. His father had to be bluffing. He had to be buying time. On crime shows, experts say you should cooperate with captors until the police could be called right? The police were on their way. So long as he cooperated, the situation would not get worse and he would be rescued. He had to stay calm. “Right… a fake document.” He said. “Of course.”

He glanced at the woman. Her lips lifted in a slight smile but her eyes were sad. She huffed.

Even the burly man chuckled to himself. “You’re pretending to accept it to cooperate right? Your father is serious. It is a fake document.”

Dominics heart slammed against his chest but he took a deep breath. He lowered his eyes.

“Say goodbye to him.” The woman said.

Dominic didn’t want to say that because this wasn’t real. If he said goodbye, they might shoot his dad. “Um… Dad. So… when I was a toddler, you stole me right?” He asked, glancing at the woman who was still smiling. She gave a little shake of her head.

His father answered. “I knew who these people were when I accepted the job. I had a job to do. Raise you until you are old enough and then let them take you. But… remember when you were at summer camp and we dropped you in the woods?”

Dominic did remember. “Yeah… the time I got attacked by the deer?” 

He was only eleven then, but there was a tradition where young people at that age could be blindfolded, driven off into the woods and dropped off. They were given some supplies and told to walk their way back completely unsupervised. It was considered a right of passage. It was never good for a young child to be too dependent on their parents. Their parents weren’t powerful omnipotent all-knowing beings. Even at the age of eleven, a child had to know for themselves right and wrong, right from left. They needed to look at their parents and take their words with a grain of salt. Being without his father’s protection for the first time in those dark woods terrified him. When the deer burst from the underbrush, galloping straight at him, he screamed. The deer wasn’t attacking him. He’d just startled it.

Using the map and the GPS device, he’d found his way out of the woods. The feeling of seeing his father in the clearing, smiling proudly at him, his son, was a feeling he would never forget. After that, he realized that if he let go of his father’s hand, he could stand on his own and not die. He became a bold, independent youngster.

“Right. That was when they were supposed to take you.” His father said.

“But they didn’t take me.” He said.

“No. That’s because the GPS coordinates I gave you took you away from them. Remember, right after that? We moved across the country.” 

A feeling, cold like ice, began to run through his veins. Dominic’s eyes shifted from the woman who held up the phone for him to the other man’s face, to the light coming through the door where his father was. “But… you got transferred. It was a work transfer.”

“I was running away. With you.”

Dominic sighed, remembering this was a script. This was made up. They had guns to his father’s head. He was surrounded. If his father didn’t say these things, they would shoot him. “Right. But you’re giving me up now so you’ll be okay, right? They’re not going to shoot you, right?”

The man and woman looking over him exchanged glances. 

“Don’t shoot him. Please… Please!” Dominic begged.

The deep strange voice that commanded the two people in front of him came again. “If you agree to come peacefully with us, we will not shoot him. This man and his wife will live out the rest of their lives in peace so long as you cooperate.”

“Me?” Dominic asked. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to leave. But if his father was alive, then he could call for rescue. “Okay. I’ll go. Just let him go!”

The phone on his ear disconnected.

“Untie him.” The voice came again. “Let’s go.”

The man and woman undid his restraints and helped him off the bed. They kept their hands on his arms as they escorted him barefoot out of the room where he was held. When he stepped into the light, he was shocked to find that there were no gunmen. His father wasn’t tied to a chair. He was standing, still in the blue soccer outfit, with his baseball cap in his hands. He’d never seen his father look so shrunken. 

The man with the deep voice was sitting there, with a gun on a small table, one leg crossed over the other. He looked to be about the same age as his father, but was strongly muscled like the man with the buzzcut hair. The tan suit was fitted to his muscular frame with a white shirt, khaki pants and brown shoes. He spun a silver wooden cane in one hand. He leaned on this cane as he stood up. A golden chain arced from his breast pocket. He reached in and looked at the time before leaning on the cane to stand up.

This man rested his hand on his father’s shoulder. “That wasn’t so hard. Was it?”

His father’s hand suddenly moved to the man’s side, gripping the hilt of a knife, buried in that man’s side. “Dominic! Run!”

Dominic sprinted toward the exit, a stairway leading to a door. The door was like the stairway to heaven, the stairway to freedom, leading him away from this nightmare. He was lucky! The people standing next to him hadn’t grabbed him! He just needed to be fast enough!

His vision suddenly burst white. His feet left the ground and his shoulder collided hard with it. Pain silenced his voice and he could only grip his shoulder in agony. A heavy shoe pushed him to his back. The man with the cane was standing over him. Dominic had never seen such a cruel gleeful smile. Even though blood was spreading throughout the tailored suit from the stab wound, it didn’t affect him.

He reached down and his hand closed like a vice over Dominic’s arm. He picked him up to his feet and shoved him staggering back. He now rested the cane on his shoulder. It was clear he didn’t need it to walk.

Dominic’s ears were ringing and he realized he must have hit him in the head with the cane. The two people who had been standing guard over him made no move to interfere. Dominic looked to where his father was and found him doubled over, clutching his hand in pain. The knife was on the ground, but Dominic didn’t remember seeing his father get hurt.

“I said, if you cooperate… I’ll let him live.” The man lightly tapped the cane against his shoulder and looked at him with eyes like burning twin coals. The sight of those golden eyes sent a shock through him but they quickly extinguished themselves from burning bright to cold black. 

“What are you… you’re a vampire?” Dominic whispered. “An alien?”

“Yes… and no.” The man said patiently. “You’ll find out all these things once you come with me.”

“Dad?” He looked at his father, desperate for direction.

His father could only shiver in pain, holding his hand. “I am still… your father. Don’t forget that. Go with him.”

“He can’t protect you.” The man with the cane shifted his gaze to focus over Dominic’s shoulder. “But those two, they can. They will be your guard on your journey.”

Dominic looked over his shoulder at them. They stood, resolute, like soldiers at attention. “No this isn’t true!” Dominic didn’t care about what his father said now. He couldn’t go with them. If he left with them, he could never go back.  “No. No!”

He didn’t know much hand to hand at all beyond what he’d learned briefly when a self-defense instructor came to the camp. The instructor said always go for the crotch or the shins or the neck. These were places where even the weakest person could inflict disabling blows.

His knee rushed up to the man’s crotch but never made it. That cane slammed on his knee. Pain crashed into his brain and he collapsed to the floor, howling, rolling, unable to think or breathe. 

The cane cracked again against his ribs and he curled up to defend himself againt further blows. His father’s voice sounded. “Stop! Stop!”

“Shoot him.” The voice from the man with the cane was a cold command.

“No!” Dominic sat up only to be brought low again with a blow to his back, right above his kidneys. He fell again. It hurt so much he couldn’t move, he could only gape like a fish out of water, tears leaking from his wide open eyes.

His father covered his face with both hands, sobbing into them against the wall. The gun was still on the table. No one had reached for it.

“Are you ready to cooperate now?” The man with the cane said.

All resistance left Dominic. His father didn’t get up to defend him. He couldn’t run away or fight. The police weren’t coming. “It’s okay… we’ll get through this…” Dominic said quietly.

“Get him up. Let’s go.”

The two people described as his guard ignored his father and helped him up. He couldn’t take his eyes off his dad who leaned on the wall. His father’s hands lowered from his eyes and their eyes met for the last time. They were red rimmed and desperate, swimming with tears. They weren’t resolute. They had no hope. Looking into those eyes, Dominic understood that the truth didn’t matter. Maybe he was his father, maybe he wasn’t. In the end, there was nothing either of them could do.

[fanficshiddles]

Shut up, One shot

Thanks for the prompt, I hope you like it! xmischief-ladyx I had far too much fun writing this one! Brilliant idea, thank you for letting me run with it. :-D

Yaaaaasss a one short party <3 Could you write a one shot where an Avengers mission turn bad. A witch cast a spell on the group. first they think nothing happened but quickly a girl noticed that she feels weird everytime Loki speaks and understand that she is more and more arroused everytime he speaks and can’t’barely contain’herself. Then Loki try too understand what’s wrong with her bit she doesn’t want to tell him because she ´s too shy and embarrassed but he is determine too find out her secret

-

Kat had been relieved that nothing came of the spell that had been cast over the team from the latest mission.

When they returned, she was feeling a little funny, like a weird heat in her stomach and butterflies. But she shook it off and put it down to the adrenaline from the mission. When she went for a shower and a nap, she felt better afterwards.

But her nap was short lived because she had to go for the briefing with the rest of the team. So she dragged herself out of bed again and threw on some clothes before heading to the main room. When she entered, she was the last one in.

‘Nice of you to finally join us, Katrina.’ Fury said while glaring at her, arms over his chest.

‘Not all of us are lucky enough to just sit here and dish out orders, Sir. It’s tiring work actually being out on the field.’ She snarked at him, earning a few chuckles from the team.

Loki smirked as Kat sat down opposite him at the large table. Fury just clenched his jaw, but he said nothing and started on with the briefing.

Kat was always bored at briefings, and she wasn’t the only one. Loki was too, and he was always looking for mischief.

When Fury had his back turned, Loki couldn’t resist turning his cup of coffee into a cup of tiny snakes. So when Fury turned back around and picked it up, he got a bit of a fright.

‘Mother fucker!’ He dropped the cup and the snakes all disappeared in a haze of green.

Fury glared at Loki, who was smirking mischievously. Kat couldn’t help sniggering, she was always amused with his pranks.

‘And I wonder who the hell that was?’ He shouted at Loki, hand on his hip.

‘Why would I do something as childish as that?’ Loki said mockingly.

Kat suddenly felt a weird sensation through her body, that was focused down between her legs. She jumped slightly on her chair, surprised at the sensation. But she shook it off.

‘Loki, behave for once in your life.’ Thor growled at his brother.

‘I always behave, Thor.’ Loki said innocently.

Eyes were all turned onto Kat when she let out a whimper, her clit started throbbing uncontrollably, for no apparent reason at all. Her cheeks turned bright red at the focus turning on her.

‘Are you alright?’ Natasha asked.

‘I… Yeah. Just… stomach pains.’ Kat said quickly and cleared her throat with a forced cough.

‘Anyway…’ Fury got the briefing back on track.

Fury was asking about how the fight went, Tony was boasting about being the saviour of it all. Loki rolled his eyes.

‘I’ll think you’ll find it was actually Kat and I that got the most’ Loki stopped dead when Kat let out another uncontrollable whimper as she clenched her thighs together tightly.

‘Kat?’ Banner asked.

‘Maybe you need to get checked out.’ Natasha said, worried.

‘Yeah… Maybe I will.’ Kat said and got up quickly, rushing to the door.

She had no idea what the hell was going on. But one thing she did know, was that she was so aroused.

Kat ran as quickly as possible back to her room. She was feeling really flushed and confused, she splashed water on her face and took some deep breaths to calm down. Part of her was thinking she should go and have some fun with one of her vibrators to get it out of her system, but she found her body was starting to calm down itself anyway.

‘Well, this is weird.’ She muttered to herself.

-

The following morning she went for breakfast, feeling back to normal. She didn’t feel horny at all, so just put yesterday’s issues down to her hormones perhaps.

When she walked into the kitchen, Thor, Loki, Tony and Bruce were all there having breakfast.

‘Good morning, Kat.’ Thor greeted her with a big smile.

‘Morning Thor. Hope you’ve not eaten all the food.’ Kat said cheekily.

Loki chuckled at her stab at Thor. He enjoyed it when others made fun of him.

‘Luckily Natasha managed to salvage some breakfast for you, it’s in the fridge.’ Loki said, only briefly glancing up from the book he was reading while he ate breakfast.

But when he had spoken, Kat doubled over and grabbed onto the counter. Her clit was throbbing again, the arousal was suddenly back.

Loki and the others looked at her curiously.

‘Did you not go to the doctor yesterday?’ Loki asked.

It suddenly all made sense to Kat as Loki’s voice felt like it was inside of her, swimming through her veins and arousing her. Her mouth opened as she tried to calm herself down, her chest and cheeks were bright red.

‘I… didn’t. I need to go.’ She rushed out of the room, mortified.

The team looked at one another, incredibly confused.

Kat didn’t understand it, was it really Loki’s voice that was affecting her? Sure, he had a lovely voice and she’d often enjoyed just hearing him speak… But to be arousing her in this way, she was sure if she had stayed there any longer, she would’ve had an orgasm right there in the kitchen on front of them all.

A knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. Luckily her body was starting to calm down again, so she took some more deep breaths before answering. But her stomach dropped when she opened the door to be faced with no-one other than the God of mischief himself.

‘Shit.’ She said out loud without meaning to, and almost slammed the door on his face but he put his foot out to stop it from closing on him.

‘Kat? What’s going on?’ He frowned and stepped into her room, shutting the door behind him when she groaned and squeezed her thighs together as she reached out to put her hand on the wall for support.

‘I… I’m not entirely sure.’

‘You are acting very strange. Were you hurt’

‘Stop talking, Loki!’ She blurted out at him as she felt her pussy pulsing at his voice.

Loki glared at her, not liking the way she spoke to him. ‘Don’t tell me to stop talking, who do you’

‘LOKI PLEASE!’ She whimpered, her legs wobbling as she raced over to him and reached up to put her hand over his mouth. ‘Just shut up!’

He narrowed his eyes at her and grabbed her wrist tightly, hauling her hand off his mouth.

‘How dare you tell me to shut up. What has gotten into you?’ While he spoke, her legs gave out as they turned to jelly and she almost collapsed to the floor if it hadn’t been for Loki’s grip on her wrist.

That confused him even more as he helped her up and walked her over to her bed.

‘Loki…’ She panted, she was so close to orgasm it was unreal. ‘You need to stop talking, seriously. Unless you want me to literally jump on you and start humping your leg like a bitch in heat!’ She hissed at him.

Loki looked really confused as he tried to get images of her doing that out of his head, but then the penny suddenly dropped. His face brightened up considerably.

‘Wait a minute… That spell that was cast from the witch yesterday. She did something to your body, it’s reacting well to my voice, isn’t it?’ He grinned cockily as he folded his arms over his chest.

‘Lokiiiii!’ She howled and curled herself up as she shoved her hand down between her thighs and pressed against her cunt to try and get a little relief. She was so close to stripping naked and fingering herself, with Loki watching or not!

‘Please… Stop talking... Please, I beg you.’ She whined and tried to move across the bed, to get further away from him.

Loki chuckled darkly and stalked around the bed, into her view. ‘Oh pet, I do love hearing you beg.’ He purred, deliberately making his voice sound like utter sin.

‘Noooooo!’ She cried out, she was so close… Surely she wouldn’t cum from his voice alone though… Would she?

‘I wonder if you will orgasm just from my voice alone.’ He teased, wondering the same thing and he sat down on the edge of the bed. She tried to roll away from him again but he reached out and captured her ankle.

She writhed on the bed in utter pleasure while Loki kept speaking. And they soon found out the answer to Loki’s question.

‘I knew my voice was sexy, darling. But I had no idea how badly it affected you. You should’ve just told me.’ He said playfully.

That was it for Kat, his smooth voice alone was able to make her cum. She would’ve felt so embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact that the final release felt far too good for her to care that she had just orgasmed on front of Loki, with no physical stimulation.

‘My my, that was such a delightful sight.’ Loki purred. ‘I wonder how long this spell will last for, or if it will ever be lifted. That would be such fun, wouldn’t it?’ He grinned wickedly, he was enjoying it far too much.

‘Oh god.’ Kat squeezed her hand between her thighs tightly as she rolled over onto her front, her knickers were absolutely soaking now and she was still throbbing, because Loki, the asshole, was still speaking.

And he wouldn’t shut the hell up.

[iamtheotherdarkknight]

Make Right (BruDick RP)

In Response to “It’s Killing Him” 

@notyouraveragedickgrayson

If Bruce had to choose a moment when things really started to fall apart, he’d say was the day he pulled Jason’s still, broken body from the rubble of that abandoned warehouse. That surreal, numbness lifting as Bruce peeled away Jason’s mask to see his face for the last time.

That’s when the pain really hit him.

It was just like watching his mother and father bleed out in an alley - except it hurt so much worse. Maybe it was because parents aren’t supposed to outlive their children… And blood or no blood, Jason was his first child.

Watching strangers lower his boy – his son – into the ground that day is what finally broke him. By the end of the funeral service, it was just him and Alfred. Like it’s always been. And perhaps that has been Bruce’s mistake – maybe this is the way things were supposed to be. Maybe this cruel act was the universe’s way of reminding him of his place. It didn’t matter how long he trained, how much he learned or how many resources he devoted to his mission, he had to walk this path in solitude. ‘… or else…’

That night, Bruce stopped fighting the darkness - the Batman consumed him.

The carnage that followed Jason’s death couldn’t be called justice. Just needless bloodshed that falling short of killing. Violence that knew no shame. Batman wanted the Joker and he didn’t care what he had to do to get him. Batman had to make him hurt the way Bruce hurt. Torture him the way he tortured Jason. And the darkness only crept in further the longer Joker hid. There was nothing left to separate Bruce from the Bat anymore, no anchor. Just all-encompassing rage and an empty pain he prayed never went away. He needed that ache more than he needed food or air; it was the only thing getting him out of bed anymore.

Bruce couldn’t blame Dick for staying away. He deserved better than an emotionally crippled, hypocrite. How could he dare hold Dick accountable for his actions towards Zucco? Bruce knew full well what would happen when he finally found Joker. Arkham wasn’t enough. Blackgate wasn’t enough. Bruce knew that, and still couldn’t stop himself. That was until a young Timothy Jackson Drake appeared at his door, venti Americano in one hand and a tablet with a litany of evidence of Bruce’s double life in the other. More than that, the kid deduced Dick and Jason’s identities as Robins.

It was strange. All the information the young man had amassed over what had to be years – the eerily familiar singlemindedness Tim displayed in his pursuit. And all he wanted to do with it was convince Dick to become Robin again. “Because Gotham needs Batman. And Batman needs Robin.” The words rolled off the boys’ lips like an obvious truth he repeated one to many times. Like all whole world’s issues were nothing more than an uncomplicated problem to be solved over a cup of coffee and a few strokes of the keys.

A petty part of Bruce expected Tim to fall apart after failing to reunite the ‘Dynamic Duo’, Nightwing making it clear that he could never take the Robin mantle again. Imagine the Wayne’s rare look of shock when Tim came down the stairs of the cave, fully fitted in an altered Robin’s uniform. And when Bruce tried to protest, Tim simply shrugged it off and told him it was Nightwing who suggested he take the uniform. Tim would just have to do until Bruce found an adequate replacement… And if he resisted Tim’s help, he’d blow Bruce’s cover right out of the water.

It’s been years since that fateful day. Bruce would have loved to say that in that, he’s gotten better over time. That he had found a way to overcome the wounded savagery that overwhelmed him. That he didn’t slip back into those dark moods and was learning to be whole after having his heart picked apart, racked with guilt, shame and fear he concealed in anger. But that would be a blatant lie and nights like this he just didn’t care enough to keep up the front.

Tonight’s patrol had been taxing for the Bats.

The night ended early with the successful sabotage of Black Mask’s weapon shipment, but the win didn’t come without a fight. Batman had no idea where Sionis found the revenue to hire the mercs he had, but there was no way the people he and Robin encountered on that freight were anything ex-military. If it weren’t for his own decades of experience and Red Robin’s help tonight, the mission would have failed.

Damien left the fight with a concussion, Bruce ordering the boy go upstairs and rest. Tim, per usual, proved more resistant to his first dismissal, but his cracked ribs and broken arm and leg won out in the end. Between that and the three days Tim spent without sleep, operating the Bat near impossible. Not at Bruce was fairing much better. By the time they returned to the cave, the man sported several burns, bruises, and gashes from the explosion. The only way Alfred could get Bruce that stay still long enough to clean and dress the wounds when Bruce was sitting at the computer, typing up the reports for tonight. That was when Bruce saw the comm flash on his screen. The call came from Dick’s encrypted number.

… But he could feel ice in his veins when he heard the voice on the call.

“It’s me.”

And Bruce knew that voice anywhere.

It was a sad fact, but because couldn’t bring himself to open-up to Tim or Damien the way he had with Jason. Bruce had let his guard down with the young man and let himself be a father to him – something he could never bare to be to Dick. He could never presume to fill the void John Grayson left in Dick’s heart when he passed. Seeing Jason grow as an individual and Robin, principled and proud in the face of adversity. It always filled Bruce with pride… Perhaps that’s why seeing Red Hood stand over a fresh corpse, baring the face long dead son left him numb. Seeing that viciousness in Jason, felt like a cruel sick joke. Bruce’s only solace in Jason death was knowing the boy he cared for so much left this world with cleaner hands then him. But seeing Jason returned from the dead to become what felt like a reflection of Bruce’s darkest hours.

I was like he failed to save him all over again.

“Where is he?” Bruce demanded, his voice low and fierce. The logical part of his brain knew better than to think Jason would hurt Dick. In fact, the only person Red Hood hadn’t reconciled with was Batman. But Bruce didn’t always think rationally when it can to his first ward. Jason knew that better than anyone….

“With me and doesn’t wanna talk.” He clarified, adjust his hold Dick’s shaking form. “I’m calling a truce, old man. Let us in.” There was the briefest pause before Bruce overrode the security protocols and allow Jason to enter the cave. Bruce didn’t know could have happen to have Jason, of all people, to knock on his door and call for a truce, but he would be prepared it all the same. In the five minutes in took Jason to traverse the tunnels to central area, Bruce had covered his injuries and erased at trace of weakness. Not that it mattered once Jason ascended the steps to his platform.

Bruce’s stoic façade fell apart the minute his eyes came upon a harrowed Dick, bundled up in Jason’s arms. It’d been months since the he last saw his former ward – the two of them not necessarily on speaking terms. In fact, he and Dick had been on the outs ever since Bruce budded in a case in in Blüdhaven, stating under no uncertain terms what he thought of his ‘partner’, Catalina Flores. The actively avoided one another ever since.

Before Bruce could demand an explanation, Jason locked his green-blue eyes with his silently warning. It was always amazing how the two of them could communicate with out uttering a single word. It was part of the reason they worked so well together. So, when Jason eyes narrowed and gestured past Bruce, the man stepped aside and waited for him on the other side of the room. Once Jason was finished propping Dick in the same chair Bruce had occupied before their arrival. Despite Jason’s best effort, Dick still slumped over the edge like a ragdoll. And he was coming apart at the seams. It’s all Bruce can do, his brain running through every possible scenario, trying to deduce a reason for Dick’s state. Jason could come to him soon enough.

“He a panic attack.” Jason finally explained, his pulling a cigarette out of his pocket, but not reaching for his zippo yet. A nervous tick, just wanting something to chew on while he organized his thoughts.

“…What triggered it?” His mentor asked cautiously, trying to understand. His former ward had attack in the past. Bruce would care for Dick through the worse of them in the beginning, whenever the boy would have a nightmare or close call. But this was the first he’s ever seen the Dick since he became an adult. He was practically catatonic.

“You.” Jason spat out, as if to apply it was obvious. “Like it or not, all of this,” Jason gestured toward Dick. “Is on you.”

Without give Bruce an inch, Jason unloaded, recounting all that Dick confided in him. The young man’s mental health was in shambles and Bruce, whether he realized it or not, had only made it worse pushing Dick away. Especially when Bruce fired Dick. The older man had to admit, he was blinded with anger the night he fired Dick and all but kicked him out of the manor. Anger, and if he were being totally honest, fear. Fear of the unknown as Dick grew into the man, he was becoming, fear for the way he was started to see Dick. Because in all the years he raised Dick, he couldn’t see him as a son. And that terrified him to the core. Bruce had only realized the terrible mistake he made when the heard the Dick pulling out of the driveway for the last time.

And then Jason and the bomb happened…

“Pull your head out of your ass, old man. Your hot-and-cold attitude might work for the ladies, but that man behind me, feels fucked up enough about wanting you without your mile-thick wall of bullshit. And I know you heard me. Now, something has to change because I am not kidding around when I say that this situation, this denial, whatever ego or pride is in the way of you two... its killing him”.

Bruce was at a loss. Looking at Dick again, he felt a surge guilt run through him. Was it his fault that Dick developed this infatuation with him? Did he somehow poison the younger man’s mind and manipulated him -

“Stop, I know what you’re thinking old man. Stop making this about you and just make this right. If either of you were as sick as you think, you won’t be so scared of this.” Jason hissed, making his way to the stairs from where he came. “He’s in your care. Make it right, Bruce.” Jason repeated, warning the older man.

Bruce waited until he couldn’t hear Jason’s footsteps, steeling himself before approaching Dick for the first time in so long. He looked so out of it. Depressed and tired and just… gone. Bruce would have given anything wrap his arm around him like he had back when his thoughts towards Dick were innocent. But right now, it wasn’t about what Bruce wanted. It was about what Dick needed.  So he knelt down on the ground before Dick so they were at eye level. Dicks eyes were downcast, but Bruce didn’t make a thing of it. Just spoke in the clearest voice he could manage, hoping that Dick would respond to him.

“Dick. Can you hear me? Do you know where you are?”

[sherrybaby14]

Just a Touch

Prompt:  A short fic where Steve Rogers gropes the reader repeatedly and at first she starts to ignore it but then one time she confronts him and asks him to stop and then he gets angry and it turns into non con.

A/N:  I took some liberties and changed it a little.

Warnings:  NONCON/RAPE.  Please do not read if this offends you.  (But it turns into Dubcon)

Pairing:  Steve x female reader

Words: 3k (longest drabble ever, but not edited so probably has errors). 

You never thought you’d wear an evening gown after your prom, but here you were in a red and white show stopper at the Stark Christmas gala.  It was like a dream come true.  

“Y/N.”  Pepper grabbed your arms. “I’m so glad you made it you look great.”

“Thank you for inviting me Ms. Potts.”  You leaned in and greeted your boss with a quick kiss on the cheek. “This is amazing.”  

“For the millionth time, it’s Pepper now.  You don’t work for me anymore.”  She backed up and held your hands.  “You deserved that promotion, but I hope we still keep in touch.  As friends.”

“Only if it means you keep inviting me to fancy balls.”  You both broke out laughing. “But really, I respect you so much.  You were the best boss I ever had.  I owe you my career.”  

“Well stick with me tonight and I’ll make sure your star keeps rising.”  Pepper tucked your arm under hers and led you into the party.

The night was a whirlwind.  You’d met Avengers, politicians, philanthropists, even movie stars.  You felt like you were drunk, but hadn’t gotten the chance to touch any alcohol.  

“It’s overwhelming isn’t it?”  Pepper flagged down a waiter and took two glasses of champagne, handing you one.  “You seem to be handling it well though.  I’m not surprised.”

“Hey Pepper, come on.”  Tony appeared out of nowhere and grabbed his girlfriend’s hand. “I need you for a second.”  

“I promised I wouldn’t leave Y/N alone.”  Pepper reached out with her free hand and grabbed yours.  

“I’ll keep her company.”  Steve’s voice startled you.  

You smiled up at the blond and turned back towards your friend/former boss.

“It’s fine.  Go.”  You’d met Captain Rogers a few times and even though you’d never exchanged more than pleasantries the awkwardness of being around the famous man had long faded.

“Five, ten minutes tops.”  Pepper smiled and disappeared into the crowd with Tony.

“Having fun?”  Steve took a sip of his beer.

“It’s amazing.”  You put the champagne to your lips.  “You don’t have to babysit me.  I can survive on my own.”  

“I like watching over you.”  Steve lowered his drink. “Cheers.”

He clanked his glass to yours, but with too much force.  Your champagne went down the front of your dress along with some of his beer.  

“Shoot.”  You grabbed at the fabric.  

“Sorry.”  Steve reached behind you and grabbed a napkin. “What a klutz.”  

He pressed the cloth to your chest, but instead of dabbing at the wetness he squeezed your entire breast in his hand.  No bra would go with the dress and you felt everything.  

“Uh.”  You tried to back away, but you were against a post.  

His hand loosened, but then squeezed down harder again, groping you through the fabric.  

Your reaction was to twist away.  

“Almost got it.”  His hand relaxed, but then went to the tip of your breast and squeezed down hard on your nipple.  “There.”  

You squealed and jerked away.   Your hand covered your top and you bit back the urge to slap him.  But he looked down at you with a lazy grin and took another sip of his beer.  

“Mmmm.” He winked at you.

“Excuse me. I should head to the restroom and wash up.”  You darted your gaze.

Was that intentional?  No way.  Captain America was the definition of a gentlemen.  He would never.

“These hands.”  He held up a huge palm. “Sometimes I’m all thumbs.”

His fingers rolled and you nodded and brushed past him.  You would clean yourself up and enjoy the rest of your evening.  This wouldn’t get to you.  It was a mistake. That was all.  Steve meant spilling the beer, not grabbing you.  Either way the exchange had left you with a rock hard pebble and a decision to steer clear of Captain America.

~~

“Pepper!”  You saw your friend in the lobby of Stark Tower.  

“Y/N.”  She ran up and gave you a hug.  “Are you just getting in?”

“Nope.  I forgot my phone in the car.”  The lobby was packed.

You always got to work at least thirty minutes early to avoid the massive crowds.  A trick you picked up from your former boss.  

“I’m on my way to a meeting, but we have to get together for drinks soon.”  Pepper squeezed your arm. “I haven’t seen you in a month!”

“It’s been two weeks.” You laughed.  “I’ll call your assistant.  Get something on your calendar.”  

“Promise?”  Pepper let go.  

You nodded.

“Go!”  You shooed her off and headed toward the elevator banks.  

She waved as she walked through the lobby.  You loved how she was the most powerful person in the building but people treated her like she was normal.  That was the sort of leader she was.  Even though everyone was below her, she acted like an equal.  It was inspirational.  

An elevator opened up and you slid your way inside the mass of people reporting for work.  You didn’t pay much attention as you took out your phone and started scrolling through the e-mails.  

At least Spring finally hit New York and you were able to wear a skirt and blouse instead of a jacket, since you knew the crowd was going to make it hot.  

Once as many people squeezed in as possible the door shut and the slow climb of constant stops began.  At the first stop you felt something brush against your ass.  

You couldn’t wait until more people got off and you wouldn’t be so cramped.  The following three you felt the same brush.  When the elevator stopped a fourth time you started to think it was intentional.  

You glanced behind you ready to give a nasty look when you saw the blond super soldier grinning down at you.

“Hi Y/N.  Haven’t seen you in awhile.  How are things?”  Steve licked his lips.  “I think the las time was the Christmas party right?”  

All looks from your face faded.  You didn’t know how to respond.  

“Yeah.”  You nodded and turned back around, wanting the conversation to end.  

The elevator continued to climb and when the fifth stop came your ass was met with a hard pinch, making you jump.  

“Woah.”  Steve reached forward and steadied you, dragging his left hand over your ass while his right one stood you up again.  “Don’t fall now.”  

He didn’t let go.  His fingers were on your ribs to the side of your breast while his other hand was cupping your ass.

You didn’t know what to do.  If you smacked him you were going to draw attention in the still very crowded car.  There wasn’t room to step away.  

“I’ll keep you upright.”  He put his mouth right next to your ear.  “Go back to looking at your phone.”  

Did he think he was being nice?  He was from the past and you did almost fall.  Still the touching made you uncomfortable.  It was so uncomfortable and you didn’t know what to do, so you listened and acted like nothing was wrong as you went back to your e-mail.  

“Good girl,” Steve whispered before standing up straight behind you.  

The word made you cringe.  Who the hell did he think he was?  But telling off a superhero in front of all these people wouldn’t earn you any brownie points at work.  

His fingers would randomly move lightly.  You felt like he was getting closer to you as well and swore you randomly felt an erection brush against your back.  It was tempting to twist away as the elevator began to empty, but nobody was paying you any attention.  

“This is my stop.”  Both of Steve’s hands slid.  

He grabbed your breast and your ass fully at the same time and squeezed.  You dropped your phone, but before you could push him away he was gone.  

You stood bug-eyed as he stepped off of the elevator, giving you a wave and a wink as the doors shut.  

There was no misinterpreting that.  It was intentional.  He was messing with you.  Why?  You didn’t want to know.  It gave you the creeps, but not as much as the small wetness you felt between your legs.  Shame washed over you as you picked up your phone.  Why did that turn you on?

You didn’t want the answer and hoped you never ran into Captain America again.  

~~ “Hi.”  You adjusted the straps on your summer dress.  “I’m meeting a friend for dinner.  I think she’s here already?”

“Y/N!”  Tony stood up from a booth in the back.  

“Oh. I guess a few friends?”  You smiled at the hostess before walking back to the table.  

You thought it was a ladies night, but maybe Tony wanted to tag along too.  You almost stopped dead in your tracks when a third person stood up from the booth.  Steve Rogers turned around, giving you that million dollar smile, with wicked eyes focused on you.

“Y/N.”  Pepper stood up and came to give you a kiss on the cheek.  She whispered in your ear.  “This is not a set-up I swear.  Tony ambushed me.”  

“You know Steve right?”  Tony greeted you with the same kiss on the cheek.

“We’ve met.”  You cringed, regretting your decision to never mention Steve’s hands to anyone.

He stepped out of the way and signaled for you to slide into the booth.  All you saw was the wall though and as you sat down realized you were trapping yourself.  

“Pepper said you were going out for dinner and I thought we would tag along since the baseball game got rained out.”  Tony stood for Pepper to slide back inside before joining her.

“It’s not raining.”  It was one of the driest Julys on record.  

“It is in Chicago.”  Steve grinned at you.  “We were going to watch it on TV. Do you like baseball?”  

“Not really.” You smiled, trying to divert the danger flashing in your brain.  

“I love it.”  Steve cracked his knuckles. “Especially the thrill of getting off first base.  My favorite is stopping at second and then getting a double and going straight for a home.”

“I don’t know what any of that means.”  You took a sip of the water on the table.  

“I’ll show you sometime.” Steve winked. “You’ll love it.”  

You gave a half smile.

“So, did you hear about Lenny in HR?”  Pepper ended the awkward exchange.  

To your surprise dinner wasn’t going bad.  The four of you were having a decent conversation.  But then you felt it: a hand on your knee.  

You tried to jerk your leg away, but the booth was too tight and you didn’t want Pepper to notice.  So instead you squeezed your legs shut and put your hands in your lap to block him.  

“Have you seen Tony’s car collection?”  Steve ran his hand up your thigh.

“You can’t see it in person.”  Pepper topped off your glass of wine.  “Only digital since they’re scattered all over the country.”  

“It is impressive.”  Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it in front of your face.  “Give it a glance.”

You wanted to slap Steve’s hand away, but didn’t know how without ruining the night, so you took Tony’s phone.  Mistake.  

He was strong and went straight for your apex, sliding his fingers over your panties as he leaned closer under the guise of looking at the cars as well.  

“Wow.”  You tried to give the phone back, needing your hands free.

“Scroll through.”  Tony took another sip of his wine.  

“Scroll.”  Steve dragged out the llll, as his fingers started rubbing you.  “Some of those babies really purr.”  

You gulped as his fingers found your clit and started pressing down.  You looked up at Tony and Pepper, neither of them noticed.  Then you looked over at Steve who grinned down at you as he pushed harder.  

You tried to cross your legs, but that only gave him a moment to get better access as he cupped your entire pussy, pressing his palm into your clit.  

Shit. It felt good.  You dropped the phone and turned to shove his shoulders.  

“Woah!” Steve lifted his hands.

“Y/N is everything okay?” Pepper looked at you like you were the one being inappropriate.  

“Sorry.”  You dropped your hands.  “I have to use the restroom.”  

“You could’ve just asked.”  Steve laughed and looked at Pepper and Tony with a shrug.  

He stood up from the booth and you practically crawled out.  

“What was that about?” Tony asked. “I thought you two were getting along?”

You walked fast, not wanting to hear the rest of the table’s conversation.  When you got to the bathroom you went straight to the sink.  

What the hell was going on?  Why did he keep touching you?  Why did he think that was OKAY?  You had to tell Pepper.  Clear this all up.  Let her know she was trying to hook you up with a creep since this was obviously a set up.  

If you had your phone you would text her to join you in the bathroom.  But you took a breath and decided if you hung out here long enough she would join you.  It was girl code. No way were you going back to that table.  

The bathroom door opened and your heart jumped, hoping it was Pepper.  Instead a tall blond man came inside and slammed the door behind him.  

“What are you doing in here?”  You started for the door, but he locked it.  

“You’re such a tease Y/N.”  Steve darted forward and cupped your cheek, pressing his lips to yours while his hand groped at your breast.

“Mmmff!”  You tried to push away.

His hands went to your hips and he spun you around.  

“Stop!”  You grabbed onto the sink to stop yourself from falling.  

“I know you’re soaked.  You got wet as soon as you saw me didn’t you?”  His hand went under your dress.  

“What?”  You tried to stop him, but your panties were pushed down.  “NO!”

His hand reached back up and found your hole.  To your shock his finger slipped right inside.  

“I knew it.”  He stood behind you. “So ready for me baby.  Have you been thinking about this since Christmas?”  

“I..stop.”  This was happening too fast.  

You didn’t know what to do, how to respond.  Zippppp.  The sound of his fly coming down made your eyes go wide.  

“I knew you were kinky, but sex in a bathroom?  With Tony and Pepper out there?”  Steve stood right behind you.  “I love it.”  

It finally dawned on you what was about to happen and you tried to move away, but Steve had you by the hips.

“Here we go.”  He pushed inside of you and you gasped.  “Look how beautiful you are.”  

Your eyes went straight ahead to the mirror and you got the view.  You were bent over the sink with Steve behind you, stretching you with his cock.  

“Oh you take me so well.”  He pushed in further.  “Most woman can’t handle it.”  

How were you this turned on?  Memories of your hard nipple at Christmas and the wetness from the elevator seemed to excite you at the moment.  Was he right?  Were you a tease?  Were you into this?  

“That’s it baby.”  Steve’s pelvis pushed against your ass.  “Enjoy it.”  

He must have sensed you relax and his hands left your hips.  One went under your skirt and found your clit while the other played with your breast over your dress.  

“This is just a taste.”  He started thrusting.  “You’re coming home with me tonight.”  

It wasn’t a question, but a big part of you wanted to say yes.  You found yourself arching your back to give him easier access.  

“Quick and dirty.”  He snarled. “I don’t want anyone to come looking for us. Brace yourself.”

Again, you did as you were told and gripped the sink.  He started plowing into you, rubbing your clit and using you breast to hold you steady as you bounced into him.  

You spiraled, tightening up and contracting around him as waves of pleasure left your body.  Your eyes rolled back in your head as you shook from the most intense orgasm of your life.  

Steve pulled out and you almost collapsed as he finished in his hand.  

“Guess you don’t need these anymore.”  He leaned on the sink next to you and held up your panties, now covered in his jizz. “Take a minute and meet me at the table.”  

He slapped your ass before letting your dress fall back over you, unlocked the door and left.  You looked up in the mirror at yourself wide-eyed.  What the fuck just happened?  

[wlovat]

you haven't changed at all

okay, so, i had this idea and i told my friend @pinokeee and she said i should write it here and let all of my fellow tnbc fans see it. <3 (also, it's mainly about lock, shock, and barrel) and it takes place after the events of the film.

also, @tnbc-thoughtsandheadcanons i thought you'd like this

_______

All of the residents of Halloween Town could see Lock, Shock, and Barrel's home on fire. It was burning quickly, and the flames were steadily climbing up the sides of the rickety building. Sally rushes up next to Jack, who was watching and not knowing exactly what to do. "Jack, we have to help them! If their little elevator burns, then they'll be trapped up there and they'll die." She cries.

Jack quickly gathers Zero and some others and rushes out. They try to get there as quickly as they can. Up in the house, the kids were scrambling to find their masks and anything else they could salvage from the fire. There was a lot of smoke in Lock's lungs, and he was coughing frequently.

He found Barrel's mask and tossed it to him. "Did one of you idiots leave a candle lit or something?" Shock says, accusing her cohorts of causing the fire.

"No!" Both of them cry, being offended but not too surprised that Shock would say that. In fact, Barrel thought, setting things on fire was a lot of fun.

The three of them run to where the elevator shaft was, only to realize the rope had broken from the fire and there was no elevator left for them. "Aw, great! Nice going." Lock says and smacks Barrel across the head with his mask. Barrel scowls at him and the two of them start hitting each other.

Shock quickly bursts between them, trying to break up the fight. She pats Lock on the back slightly as he doubles over in a horrible coughing fit. "We don't have time for this stupid fighting. We have to get out of here."

"How? That was our only way down!" Barrel responds. He finds a spot in the house where the wall was completely burned away and down below was the little bridge. He could see Jack and some others coming in the distance but before he could tell the other two, they all heard a voice coming down from Oogie's lair. No - that couldn't be him. He was dead, wasn't he? Jack should've killed him.

But somehow he was there. He told them that he was burning the house down to force them to come down there with him. "So I can trap and torture you forever!" He laughs maniacally.

Lock pulls his cohorts aside and whispers to them. "We could escape. We could jump down right now."

"That bridge is too rickety, you dummy. Someone would have to catch us." Shock whispers back, making Lock roll his eyes.

They hear a bark from down below. It was Zero! They rush to the area where the wall was burned out, and a hole was there which was big enough for them to jump out of. "Jack! Up here!" They all cry, waving their hands frantically.

Jack sees them, and carefully steps across the bridge. "It's okay. I'm here to rescue you! You're gonna have to jump!"

"Are you insane?"

"That's practically suicide!"

"That actually sounds quite fun."

The three of them burst into giggles but stop when Jack yells at them. "You must be serious, those flames are coming quickly, so you must act fast. Come on now, jump." He tells them urgently.

Shock steps forward, holding her mask in one hand and holding down her hat with the other. She jumps, hoping that Jack would be able to catch her. She cries out in delight, enjoyed the thrill of it. She feels herself land in Jack's arms and he places her on the grass.

Barrel jumps, laughing with glee. He too is sat safely next to Shock. They both relish in the fresh air. But Lock was still up there. And he was coughing a lot from the smoke and fire that was quickly catching up to him.

"Lock, you have to jump!" Jack yells to him.

"I can't!" Lock yells.

"Come on! It's fun. Stop being a coward." Shock retorts.

Lock sucks in a deep breath and jumps, right as the building explodes in flames and collapses. Jack catches Lock, and steps back onto the land as the bridge collapses and falls down into the crevice. Oogie's lair remained, with no path to get to it, and no path to escape.

Lock was breathing heavily, and coughing. Jack told him to try to breathe, and Lock did. His breaths were shaky and raspy. He eventually stopped and caught his breath.

After sitting Lock down, Jack knelt down in front of them. "How did this happen?"

"It was Lock!" Barrel snickers.

"Oh, really?" Lock scoffs.

"Boys!" Jack shouts.

The two stop and look at him. Shock giggles quietly.

"Look, I just wanna know what happened." Jack says firmly.

"Oogie burned it down." Shock says. "He wanted us to stay with him so he could torture us."

Jack sighs and glances back at the lair. That no good Oogie Boogie, he thought. He turned back to them. Lock had dark ashes on his face, so did the other two. He decided to take them into town. He found a spare home no one was using and took them there.

Multiple citizens gasped and started whispering when they walked in. They didn't like that they were gonna be staying inside now. But they figured there was no other choice, besides banishment. Besides, Jack was the leader. And they trusted him.

--------

Sally closed the door and stepped over to Jack. "They're asleep. I bathed them and cleaned their masks. I gave Lock something to clear out the smoke from his lungs."

Jack nods, thinking deeply. "Are you sure we should keep them here? Inside the town? No one was happy about this."

"Everyone was scared of Oogie. They're probably just scared that the kids are gonna cause mischief." Sally tells him as they walk outside through the town to get to Jack's home.

"Yeah... maybe being around all of us will make them decide to spread apart from their bad behavior." Jack says.

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I do."

"I love you, Jack."

------

10 years later

Lock is now 16, Shock is 17, and Barrel is 15. Shock had hit a huge growth spurt and was a lot taller than the boys were. She teased them relentlessly about it.

Lock had grown his hair out and he regularly wears it in a bun. And Barrel was surprisingly still kinda short, and he had grown closer to Lock. Over the years, they had progressed greatly. The three of them helped with Halloween. They had some great ideas that helped enhance how they scared humans.

Their reputation was really good. However, Shock's was still bad.

Lock had just gotten home from helping the Mayor with some heavy lifting. He pulled his hair up and walked inside the house that he still shared with his cohorts. "Are any of you guys home?" He looked into the kitchen and saw Shock trying to rip one of Barrel's favorite shirts. He rushed over and grabbed it, holding it tight in his hand. "Shock, seriously?"

"I was just gonna make a slight rip in it." Shock chuckles and reaches for it, gasping when Lock steps back. "Come on you dingus, give it back!"

"No! Barrel really likes this shirt and I'm not gonna let you ruin it." Lock scoffs. He takes the shirt into Barrel's room and puts it in his closet. He grabs his mask and heads out.

Shock sighs and sits in her room. It'd been a crazy change of events, she realized. She thought of all of the times that they'd proved themselves to the other citizens, and how she'd grown closer with Lock. But within the last couple of years, she'd starting thinking about Oogie. And what a great team she made with the boys. And how mischievous and horrible they could be.

Shock wanted that again. Desperately. So she'd tried to do small things to get back into that routine. But everytime, the boys caught her. She didn't know what to do. She knew they didn't wanna do that stuff anymore. She suddenly got an idea and grabbed a piece of paper, sketching away. She giggled mischievously.

----------

Lock met Barrel in the woods. He walked up and they did a handshake.

"How are you?" Lock asks him.

Barrel smiles excitedly and climbs up into a tree, hanging from a tree limb. "Amazing!" He then notices how angry and upset Lock appears and his smile fades. "What?"

"It's Shock again. She's... I don't know... going back to her old ways?" Lock sighs and sits down on a tree stump.

"Why do you care so much?" Barrel asks.

"She's practically family. I mean, we've been around her for years. Since we've been in Halloween Town. You know how I feel about her." Lock replies.

Barrel climbs down to sit with Lock and console him. "Yeah, I know. But... Jack is hosting this pretty formal party for Sally's birthday. Maybe you could ask her on a date or something."

"You think so?" Lock smiles.

Barrel nods. "Yeah."

-------

A couple weeks later, Sally's party was hosted down in the square. Lock wore a nice, red suit and Shock wore just a purple dress. They showed up and greeted people. Lock was holding Shock's hand and he felt genuinely happy.

Barrel showed up in jeans and a torn shirt and ran around like crazy.

Lock and Shock laughed and went to get drinks. "He's insane." Lock says.

"I'll be back." Shock says and slinks off through the crowd.

Lock sits down with a cup of punch, feeling like he was being ditched. I brought her here on a date, he thought. And she just walked off.

A bit later, Shock runs over to Lock, giggling.

"What?" Lock smiles.

Shock gestures to a bucket hanging above the town hall. "I hung that there to fall on Sally! It has water in it with some green stuff. Really dirty water."

Lock clenched his jaw, growing angry. "Shock, are you really that stupid? You can't be doing that kinda stuff."

"Aw, come on. A little prank wouldn't hurt." Shock smirks.

Lock slams down his drink. "Don't go anywhere." He climbs up onto the town hall roof and carefully takes the bucket down. He pours it back into a pond.

Lock has a pretty tense argument with Shock. Barrel shows up to break them up.

Lock was in tears. "Don't you realize what I've done to keep everything you've been doing hidden? You'd probably be exiled by now."

"Well, maybe you guys are just suckups. To Jack - Sally. Barrel, you're obviously a complete loser. I mean... just the way you dress and act... wow." Shock says.

Barrel looks hurt, and Lock puts an arm around him. He glares at Shock.

"You haven't changed at all."

[dashielldeveron]

Viper V: de Futuro.

Warnings: violence, swears, the law.

Summary: the famous sewer scene, like they have in every rom-com.

Day five of the bomb threat. It was confined to Manhattan now, although no one could be certain. Bomb threats tended not to last so long, but this one had reason to extend: all of the sewers in lower Manhattan were backed up, and so far, no one could locate the cause. Authorities had the inkling that the bomber—Isadora’s kidnapper, your identity thief, twice—had blocked the sewers off somewhere downtown, maybe linked with the subway.

Which meant NYC was in uproar, mostly for transportation issues. The streets never cleared, and all attempted to avoid being outside for long due to the rank smell—but when one lives in an overpopulated, urban area, that tended to be difficult to evade.

All applause for your identity thief. He’d turned the city upside down with a few, simple actions. If he weren’t directly aiming and igniting this in your direction, you’d be impressed.

Too bad Tom was being a little prick. Wanting to be thorough in initiating you to be consigliere, he wasn’t letting you have a spare moment to yourself, and when you collapsed on your bed at home each night, your brain transformed into mush.

“Who should I give this job to?” Tom tossed you three profiles across his desk and kept striding towards his liquor cabinet.

“Sydney,” you said, picking out his file and setting it in front of his chair, “He’s got the subtlety that Moss and Murtagh don’t. Also, Bauman called; he wants to hire you to plan an operation for him across the Hudson, and Judge Le sent you this package in the mail.” You pulled a slender rectangle out of your blazer pocket and threw it his way. “It’s weighted like a fountain pen, probably in thanks for your help last week.”

Tom caught the package without looking away from his liquor cabinet and unwrapped it as he chose his bottle. “Excellent. I want you to look at Bauman’s initial operation to see what your instincts are. If you can’t figure anything out, give it to me. Text Sydney that he’s going to Harlem for the next five days. Tell him to leave his rings at home.” He dug his fingernails into the crack where the tape didn’t cover the cardboard and forced it open, and he tapped the opening into his palm. “You’re right,” he said, holding up the fountain pen, “Engraved. Put it with the rest.” He threw it back to you.

Catching it with both hands, you slid it into the pen cup. “Also, Holland, we should get the New Jersey representatives on the payroll soon. They’re trying to introduce a local law that’d let them gerrymander more often, and we want them in our pocket, if they have that power.”

“Get on it, then,” said Tom, and he poured an unhealthy amount of whisky into a tumbler. He held up a hand. “Wait. I don’t want them if they haven’t passed that law. Get them in our good graces but don’t commit to anything serious.”

You jotted that on your legal pad. “Got it. Are Z and Haz still going to the Heights today?”

“If the streets are manageable.” Tom took a deep drink and winced. “Fuckin’. Fuckin’ bomber.”

“Are we doing anything about that?”

Tom drained his glass. “You bet your arse we are.”

***

“You’re the worst,” you said, attempting to rest your weight by the pads of your index and middle fingers on the grimy wall of the sewer so that the pressure was removed from your heels for even a moment. “I’m not doing this again.”

“Tell me how you really feel,” Tom muttered, waving the flashlight in your direction.

“I could be touching the Gawain diamond right now. Maybe. It’s unclear when it’s coming in.” You pushed off of the wall and rubbed the grit between your fingers. “Instead, I’m living like a goddamn ninja turtle.”

“If you want pizza after this, just say the word,” said Tom, “but stop fuckin’ complaining. Come on. I’m hearing voices in the distance.”

“You could have sent some lame-o soldier to do this.” You leapt over a sopping puddle underneath a grate but managed to land in a deceptively squishy moss.

(Harrison had also voiced this sentiment. Why would the don and his consigliere go perform a humiliating task? “I want her eyes on everything they can be when it comes to this case,” Tom had said as if you hadn’t been present, and he loosened his tie enough to slip it off but keep the knot. “And I’m not letting her out of my sight.”)

“Yet I want you.” Tom peered around a bend, holding out his arm to keep you back.

“Yeah, well,” you said, “You may need my brain, but if it’s scrambled from not relaxing, it may not be on its best behaviour.”

“We’ll see about that,” Tom said under his breath, and he stood upright, dropped his arm, and beckoned for you to follow him farther. Before he could take could take more than three steps, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Christ, Viper, if you wanted time off, all you have to ask. Not—not now, of course. Gotta get situated. But once things calm down, you can…” Tom turned towards you, and in his face was an exasperation you hadn’t seen since you missed your mother’s birthday: weak, raised eyebrows with a mouth open simply because it didn’t take any muscles for it to drop and eyes with the suggestion of watering.

You shook your head. “I don’t want any time off.”

Tom shook his head in tandem, biting his lower lip and furrowing his brow. “Then what do you want?”

A series of shouts came from down the sewer, and Tom’s hand shot to his gun over the clatter of running footsteps from the other direction. You hissed at him that he couldn’t shoot in the sewer; he’d ruin their ears. Tom reluctantly withdrew and trudged forth.

You came upon a capacious, underground crossroads with tunnels going in six directions. Tom began to speak, but your hand on his shoulder silenced him as you listened.

“The police,” said Tom, “are down that one.” He gestured towards the one towards your left.

“Agreed,” you said, placing your chin on the back of your hand; Tom took a deep breath. “But listen: what’s the tinny sound? I’d say it’s chains dragging on the floor, but it’s not sixteenth century Spain.”

“There are so many things I want to say to you right now, but none of them are appropriate for this situation.”

“Tell me later,” you said, “Someone’s gotten to the blockage before we did.” You approached the tunnel, Tom close behind. “Ffffffuck. We won’t see raw evidence.”

Another shout and water rushing—holy shit, more like a fuckin’ deluge—surging your way.

“Oh, my God,” you said, and you grabbed Tom’s hand and ran—which tunnel did you come in? That one, sure. You chose that one.

Tom ran past you, but he came to a halt when you couldn’t keep up. You made the grossest decision of your life to take off your heels and run in the sewers in your bare feet. (“I’m gonna get the plague, and it’s gonna be your fault. I’m gonna get the plague, and hepatitis, and all my organs are gonna fail.”)

Shouts and watery footsteps from behind. An instruction to split up. A gunshot reverberated down your tunnel, the bullet skimming the wall, and you stuck a finger in your ear and twisted to pop it.

You came to a fork in the tunnel and bolted down the left path (“That’s how you get out of a maze,” you said, “you just keep your hand on the left wall.”), and Tom glanced back when you yelped at having stepped in a wet moss. A low pipe struck the back of Tom’s head, and his knees buckled, his hands flying to his scalp.

“No, no, no, it’s okay,” you said, peeking back down the sewer, “Come on. Stand up. We’ll be out soon. Arm around my shoulder. Let’s go.”

Tom put his arm around your waist, and his palm tightened around the spot where it curved into your stomach. Wrenching him upright, you urged him to put as much of his weight as he needed on you, mostly because you were a masochist who wanted to drop dead right there, and if this is the closest to romantic contact you’ll get, you’ll take it.

You came into another open crossroads and let him lean against the sewer wall while you stretched, water trickling in after you, not yet covering your feet but rising.

“Firehoses,” Tom said, his hand flat against the sewer (that had better not be the one he touches you with), “The chain dragging noise. Firehoses. They must be trying to blast out the blockage with water pressure.”

Nodding, you rolled your shoulders backwards. “If you say so. Which is—”

“Don’t say anything,” said Tom, “I hear someone coming.”

From another tunnel approached the manic splash of a runner—panting. Heavy panting. When he entered the crossroad, he doubled over and tried to breathe. Dressed in black. Hiding his face. Gotcha.

His head snapped towards you when you moved towards Tom, who snaked his arm around your waist again for support. He whipped out a gun, and though it’s too dark to make out what type it is, you get the feeling it wasn’t the one fired earlier.

“The fuck are you?” he barks, and it’s natural; it’s not the same person as before, who was very careful to conceal his identity. His gun shook for a second before steadying.

Tom opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You spoke for him. “You don’t know me?”

“You’re not with the police?”

“Are you with the bomber?”

You heard a click. “What’s it to you?”

“Personal interest.”

“A chick with personal interest. Not police.” He cleared his throat. “What up, Viper?”

You reached towards Tom’s holster and aimed his gun at the grunt before he could protest, but Tom did let out a choked sound: the barrel had grazed the outline of his cock—and you cocked his gun, hand never trembling. “Tell me about my identity thief.”

“You already know everything,” said the grunt, edging backwards and stumbling on sewage, “Precision like Mozart and justice like it’s judgment day. And if I can shoot you now, then the first part of my boss’s justice will be served pretty hot.”

“Justice,” you said, staring for a moment at the sludge between your toes, and you flexed them. “Then you know it’s not justice for me to shoot my hostage right here and now.” You pulled Tom into a chokehold and dug the barrel into his forehead. “You wanna get out of here, huh? Go on, then, before I blast this concussed fireman’s brains out.”

Tom’s hands gripped at your forearm, initially trying to pry you off but falling still. The grunt was hesitating, but his gun was lowering.

“C’mon. Don’t make me come over there.”

He bolted. Your grip on Tom’s neck loosened, and your arms fell to your side. Panting, Tom ran his fingers through his hair, only a suggestion of gel left. He shook his head at you, his eyes wide and jaw dropped.

“You are,” he said between breaths, “the craziest woman I’ve ever come across. And that’s why this is working—mmf!”

He inhaled sharply at your return of his gun to his holster, and you, grinning with a glint of wickedness in your eyes, glanced at his belt, jerked the holster back to its place at his side, and lingered with your fingers in his belt loops (the leather kept his pants fabric a little tighter to his skin than necessary, and you bet if you cared to, you could easily feel around for the v of his hipbones).

You were close, so close, and he couldn’t make himself look anywhere besides into your eyes. “Who’s talking here, Viper or the adrenaline?” he asked under his breath.

You yanked his belt loops to your hips. “Are you saying this doesn’t turn you on?”

“Is scared to death in the realm of turned on?”

“Sometimes,” you said, stepping away. It was the adrenaline talking. You had no idea how your aim was; you don’t shoot the guns, and Tom had been helpless in your arms. Pure luck had never felt so sexy. You shifted your foot on the edge to examine the underside, and grimacing, you said, “We’re getting out of here before I obtain several parasites. How’s your concussion?”

“Unsure if it is,” said Tom, his hand flying to the back of his head, “I wish I could see the bruise when it appears. Still not the best on my feet at the moment.”

“Well, lean on me, then, if you need to.”

***

Warm water bubbled up to your ankles. The foot soaker thing had been commandeered from a secretary in the business side of Osseous, and you were going to stay in it until you burned and scrubbed away the first five layers of skin.

Tom clutched an ice pack to the back of his head, and he hunched over to scroll through his phone on his lap. “I can still order that pizza, you know.”

“Let me have some semblance of professionalism around you, Holland,” you said, writing down the sewer events on your legal pad, “Besides, I have leftover hibachi at home.”

“Please order the pizza; I’m starving,” said Haz, untying his boots and removing them.

“Put a vegetable on it, for the love of God,” Zendaya said without looking up from her phone, “How you eat is abominable.”

“I eat vegetables.”

“Potatoes are a starch,” said Zendaya, “Have you guys been on twitter today?”

“What’s going on?” Tom popped his back and folded both his arms behind his head.

She flicked down her phone with her index finger. “A twitter account for Epiales, that political writer, was created this morning.”

“It’s fake,” you said on reflex.

“How do you know? It’s verified.”

“It can’t be.” You began to stand but sat again. “I’m not getting out of the foot bath. Come over here,” you said, frowning.

Z obliged, and she scrolled through the tweets for you. Shaking your head, you said, “It’s bogus. Total bullshit.”

“How would you know?” Haz asked from the liquor cabinet.

Oh. Um. “Look at how the sentences are structured. Epiales has flawless grammar. I don’t even have to go through all of them; there’s a comma splice in this tweet. Rookie mistake. That’s not something you do once you know it’s wrong. Plus, didn’t Epiales say on his website that anything not on the website, in that law journal, or in the Times wasn’t him?”

“Yeah, he did,” said Tom.

Zendaya pursed her lips. “So, who’s this fuck?”

***

When you got home that evening, you smushed your face in Trout’s belly for as long as she would let you. Simple and soft. She wiggled loose and trotted off to your bed before you felt okay again.

After reheating the hibachi, you settled into bed to write down that day’s plant records so that you could watch Netflix. Trout reacquainted herself with your freshly scalded feet.

Normal stuff. A couple of names you missed—you added those to your notes. A standard run-through, except for the conversation that occurred soon after you left.

You trudged through your own conversations; did your voice really sound like that? Z had departed for the day; you listened to her goodbyes, but Harrison and Tom loitered in his office.

“Something’s gotta be up,” came Harrison’s voice, distant but distinguishable, “Viper’s a little too smart for her own good.”

“She already has Dr. Prine,” said Tom, his voice muffled, like he was pinching his lower lip, “Who’s to say she doesn’t have other connections in high places?”

“What if she’s behind the bombs and kidnapping?”

“No. She wouldn’t want herself out in the public eye.”

Harrison sighed. “But how’s she know where everything is? No one’s that clever.”

“She is.” Tom paused. “The latest Epiales article—the one on the website. It did mention something about the mob.”

Shit. Shit! That had been the one you’d written in Tom’s childhood bedroom, the one where you were desperate to finish and needed something. You’d slipped.

“You think she knows Epiales?”

“I’m thinking the interview wasn’t a coincidence and that there wasn’t a burner phone. She’s got to have a way to contact him.”

“What if she’s feeding him information about us?”

“Epiales hasn’t done much with the information so far, if that’s true,” said Tom.

“Tom,” said Harrison, “She knew that the twitter was fake. Completely convinced. She knows exactly what to say to everyone and can act like a chameleon in any situation, seems like. I like the girl, but how do we find out if she’s a snake in the grass?”

“Well, Haz, you know what you do with snakes,” came Tom’s voice after a beat, “Charm them.”

***

de Futuro: concerning the future; at a future date.

***

taglist: @hollandroos @starksparker @pparkerwrites @qxeen-of-hearts @stealth-spiderr @presidentbttrflyfreak @parsleysbaby @madmadmilk @paradoxparker @gryfinpuffs @bi-writes @astronomyparkers @wheremyotpat @infamous-webhead @laurfangirl424 @softspideys @gendryia @plethoraofpuppies @laucontrerasv @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @spiderboytotherescue

[dixielis]

An Interesting Turn of Events [3/?]

Pairing: Jotaro Kujo x Noriaki Kakyoin Summary: There were three things Jotaro Joestar was completely certain about: One. 80’s rock was the be-all end-all of music. Two. The movie Jaws wrongly portrayed sharks as evil and blood-thirsty, and he did not stand for it at all. Three. Being an alpha while also part of the Joestar-lineage was an absolute curse. Warnings: Omegaverse with omega!Kakyoin and alpha!Jotaro A/N: Chapter 3! Just the boys being gay and playing pokémon

Read on Ao3 here: LINK

He was usually a morning person. But last night he had an unusually hard time falling asleep, his mind constantly going back to a certain omega he had met just the day before.

Jotaro didn’t understand what was wrong with him. It wasn’t like he had never spent time around another omega before. But his mind seemed to think that it was.

He let out a deep sigh as he sat up, resting his bare feet against the cool wooden floor. He tried to ignore the obvious tent in his boxers as he got up for his morning shower, in which he used considerably colder water than he normally would.

As he went downstairs after getting ready all three of his brothers were already seated around the kitchen table eating breakfast.

“Jotaro! You’re up unusually late” Jonathan commented as Jotaro poured himself an extra large cup of pitch-black coffee. Jotaro just mumbled in response, not one for small talk in the morning.

“As I was saying” Joseph continued, clearly having been interrupted by Jotaro’s entrance. “I ran into him yesterday and the dude seriously tried to make me trip me down the stairs, so I might have broken into his locker and I might have stolen a couple of bills out of his wallet”

“Joseph!” Jonathan exclaimed in a clearly unhappy tone.

“Who did you steal from?” Jotaro asked as he furrowed his brow, taking a sip of his bitter coffee as he took a seat at the table. He was not following this conversation at all.

“Our least favourite next-door neighbour. I just think of it as payback for all those stitches I had to get because of him”

“Joseph, you still shouldn’t steal from people” Jonathan tried to reason with him.

“He killed our dog”

“We don’t actually know if that was him”

The room fell silent as Joseph and Jonathan ceased their arguing. The air in the room had gotten uncomfortable at the mention of Danny, who had been killed under suspicious circumstances several years prior.

“Whatever, I’ve got an extra fifty bucks now. Who’s up for McDonalds?”

“Me!” Josuke immediately shouted out, waving his hand in Joseph’s face.

“McDonalds is for Saturdays only, Joseph”

“Shut up, Jonathan. Josuke is a growing boy, he needs the extra calories!”

“That’s right, I’m gonna end up being taller than all three of you!” Josuke claimed as he stuck his tongue out towards Jonathan teasingly.

“I hardly think that cheeseburgers will have much to do with your height, Josuke”

Jotaro stayed quiet sipping his coffee while the others argued about trivial things. Little arguments like these were common when your household consisted of four boys all on the line of reaching adulthood. Jonathan, being the oldest, had turned 19 just a couple of months back. He therefore had the most responsibility and control over what happened under their roof. That was the way it had been for the last two years, when their father had unexpectantly passed. Now it was just the four of them against the world, living in the house, borderlining on mansion, that had been left in their name.

Jotaro was pulled back from his little trip down memory lane as he noticed that Joseph was looking straight at him with questioning eyes. Jotaro quickly averted his gaze as he chugged down the last of his now lukewarm coffee.

“You seem distracted, Jotaro. Anything on your mind” Jotaro silently cursed him out as Jonathan and Josuke turned to look at him as well.

“Not really” Jotaro replied. “Just schoolwork and stuff”

“Oh! Speaking of schoolwork, I’m planning a party for tomorrow night!” Joseph exclaimed excitedly, clapping his hands together.

Jotaro furrowed his brows. “What does that have to do with schoolwo-“

“Am I allowed to come?” Josuke chipped in, practically vibrating with excitement.

“No, Josuke, you’re too young for any of Joseph’s events” was Jonathan’s immediate response. Josuke pouted at him.

“Can I have double McDonalds instead then?”

“…fine”

“Works for me!” Josuke said as he stood up, moving his dishes off the table. “I’m off to school then, see you later” He was out the room before any of the others had a chance to tell him goodbye.

“Who’s coming to your party?” Jotaro asked, silently hoping that it would be one of Joseph’s smaller gatherings for once.

“Everyone of importance, and a few dozen more” Joseph replied. Jotaro’s wish for a quiet night would apparently be out of the question then.

“You two can invite some people as well if you want” Joseph looked between Jonathan and Jotaro.

“I think I’ll at least invite Will and Speedwagon over”

“I already invited Speedwagon, nobody would even come around if it wasn’t for the legend himself” Joseph rested his chin in his hands as he focused his gaze on Jotaro expectantly. “How about you Jotaro?”

Jotaro simply gave off a slight shrug. “I’m probably just gonna invite Pol and Avdol over” Joseph let out a slight hum at this.

“If Polnareff throws up on the carpet again I’m going to cry” he warned. Jotaro let out a slight snort in response.

“I’ll be sure to tell him” he answered as he got up from the table. “I’ll be going now”

“See ya”

“Don’t cause any trouble now” Jonathan warned him. Jotaro just waved him off.

He pulled on his usual coat and secured his trademark cap on the top of his head, letting a couple strands of hair poke out from underneath it.

The air was unusually cold as he stepped outside. Autumn was approaching fast and Jotaro found himself already missing the summer. He really didn’t enjoy the cold. He buried hands deep in his pockets and started making his way towards the gate.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed another person walking down the street from the corner of his eye. That blonde head of hair was unmistakably that of their next-door neighbour, Dio. But something seemed off about him today. Instead of walking the shortest route to school that he would normally take he was apparently taking a de-tour.

Jotaro decided not to ponder over this fact for very long. He should just be glad that it would be easier than usual to avoid Dio, since they were not exactly on the best of terms. Jotaro took a quick glance down at his watch. He should probably get going if he didn’t want to be late for homeroom. And the dark clouds in the distance seemed to promise rain in the near future. So he rid all his thoughts of Dio and walked off in the opposite direction.

**********

Jotaro’s first few classes, to his delight, went on uneventfully. By the time lunch came around it was pouring rain outside. He could hear a few people moan about it as he made his way towards the cafeteria, following the stream of people moving in the same direction. Jotaro decided to wait outside the hall until the crowd had thinned out. Since he was a head taller than everyone else it would still be easy enough for him to be spotted.

“Oi Jotaro!” he could hear Polnareff’s voice drift over the sea of people around him. Jotaro just watched on as Polnareff and Avdol made their way towards him.

“I guess eating on the roof will be out of the question for today. Polnareff suggested that we just be lazy and grab a table in the cafeteria” Avdol explained to Jotaro, gesturing towards the doors to said room.

“Oh” Jotaro replied, before pausing for a moment. Polnareff and Avdol looked at him expectantly.

“I won’t be able to eat with you guys today. I have other plans”

Avdol and Polnareff exchanged a quick look of slight disbelief.

“Why? What did we do? Please don’t dump us, I need more than one friend in my life” Polnareff rambled, giving Jotaro his best attempt at puppy-eyes. Their effect on Jotaro was extremely limited.

“It’s nothing like that, I just have a group assignment to work on” he quickly explained, before Polnareff would start to fake-cry or something equally embarrassing.

Avdol’s eyes narrowed slightly. “During lunchbreak? Assignments are normally worked un during class or free period”

“Yeah!” Polnareff agreed. “Using lunch break for anything other than eating should be considered a crime. You sure that you haven’t just given in to one of those omega’s wanting to go on a date and trying to cover for yourself?”

Jotaro shifted uncomfortably at Polnareff’s choice of words. It was just studies, nothing more. Even though he might have wanted it to be something more. He adjusted his hat so that it would cover more of his face, his cheeks reddening slightly.

“No. Sorry” he replied quickly. “But if you’re serious about getting a table you should probably get going”

“Just you wait until we get back, I am going to interrogate you so hard” Polnareff threatened, looking Jotaro straight in the eye.

“Jotaro is right though, let’s get going, Pol” Avdol said and grabbed a hold of Polnareff’s wrist, practically pulling him away. Jotaro could feel Polnareff’s curious gaze on him until Avdol had finally pushed him through the doorway.

Jotaro let out and audible sigh and leaned his head back towards the wall. He however didn’t get many moments of rest until he heard several voices calling out towards him. They had most likely been waiting until was completely alone.

“Jojo!”

“I’ve saved you a seat if you need it”

“Aren’t you gonna have lunch Jojo?”

Jotaro groaned as he was soon surrounded by a small group of omegas, each of them looking up at him with hopeful and hungry eyes.

“Fuck off” Jotaro replied flatly. He heard a few giggles emerge among the omegas at this as they shifted even closer. They just continued rambling on about whatever unwanted propositions they had for him today.

“Jotaro!”

Jotaro’s head snapped up as a familiar voice called out to him. Kakyoin was standing a mere few meters away, smiling hesitantly at him. Jotaro immediately found himself stepping away from the girls as he moved towards him. He could hear the disappointed murmurs coming from behind him, but he simply ignored them. He instead focused his gaze on Kakyoin, who was looking back at him, a smile still present on his lips.

“Hey” Jotaro said, burying his hands in his pockets. Kakyoin let out a slight chuckle.

“Hey. You know any place we could go work? I’m guessing the cafeteria is pretty full by now” Kakyoin tucked a piece of hair behind his ear as he spoke.

“There’s a corridor on the second floor that is usually quiet, let’s go there” Jotaro answered. He risked a quick glance behind him. The omegas were still huddled in a small group, watching their exchange intently.

“Sure thing, you mind leading the way?” Kakyoin said. Jotaro nodded, and started making his way up the nearby stairs, Kakyoin immediately falling in step beside him.

Jotaro’s mind began racing for something to say. He had always sucked at making small talk with people. And the slight feeling of nervousness that washed over him with Kakyoin so close at his side didn’t make it any easier.

“So, uh, how are you liking school so far? Since you’re new and all that”

Kakyoin seemed to ponder over the question for a moment.

“It’s pretty similar to my last one, so it’s been pretty easy to fit in. And most people have been really nice to me so that’s always a plus”  Jotaro hummed lightly in acknowledgement.

“And the teachers seem to be really good as well. Apart from a couple of them or so. But that’s how it almost always is. For some reason it’s always the gym teachers that are the worst. I’m not sure why that is”

Kakyoin kept talking as they made their way down the corridor. Jotaro spotted an empty table in between two small sofas. “Let’s sit here” he said and gestured towards it.

Kakyoin stopped his rambling and looked towards the table. “Oh! Looks comfy” He gave Jotaro a slight smile.

They sat down on opposite sides of it and pulled out their lunches as well as their schoolbooks. Jotaro just had a couple of sandwiches with him, not really a fan of cooking unless it was absolutely necessary for him to do so. Kakyoin on the other hand opened up a bento box, filled to the brim with various types of dishes.

Jotaro watched as he took out a pair of chopsticks and started eating, bringing some noodles up to his lips, slurping them up loudly. Kakyoin must have noticed him staring, as he met Jotaro’s eyes momentarily, before looking down at the sandwich in Jotaro’s hands.

“Would you like to try something? It’s all really good” he offered, pushing the box a bit closer to Jotaro.

“No it’s fine” Jotaro replied, looking away.

“You sure? That sandwich doesn’t look very filling” Jotaro watched as Kakyoin picked up something with the chopsticks, bringing it towards him. “Here, try some, my mom makes the best Tamagoyaki”

“What is it exactly?” Jotaro asked, looking at the yellow roll of food being held out towards him.

“An omelette of sorts” Kakyoin replied. “Come on now, open up!”

Jotaro stared at the chopsticks in Kakyoin’s hand, now a mere few centimetres away from his face. He opened his mouth slightly, and felt as Kakyoin brought the piece of food into his mouth before withdrawing the chopsticks. Jotaro chewed slowly as he tried to keep his cheeks from turning red.

“It’s really nice” he said, adjusting his hat slightly.

“Told you!” Kakyoin smiled brightly at him. “You can have some more if you want, my mom always packs way too much for me anyways”

Jotaro shook his head slightly and tried to ignore the slight flush on his cheeks. “No, it’s fine. But thanks anyway” He decided to occupy his mind by opening one of his books and flip through it idly. From the corner of his eye he could see Kakyoin doing the same, while still shoving food into his mouth at an alarming rate.

They started going over their notes from the day before, deciding what would be relevant to bring up and what they should scrap entirely. They soon ended up with a simple draft of what still needed to be done.

“This is probably as far as we’re gonna get before we can check in with the others on Monday” Kakyoin commented. “So I say we’re done for the week”

“Yeah, I agree” Jotaro said and started cramming his books back into his bag. “I could try and find some more recourses we could use, I have a couple of books at home that might be useful”

“Go ahead if you want to, but I’m gonna take the weekend off” Kakyoin replied.

Jotaro heard a low melodic sound come from the omegas direction and he moved his eyes towards him. Kakyoin held some sort of small, handheld gaming-device in his hands, his fingers moving rapidly over the buttons. Jotaro simply observed him for a few moments. He noticed that the tip of his tongue poked out between his lips in concentration as he looked at whatever was on the screen in front of him.

“Say, Jotaro” Kakyoin started, looking up from the device to meet Jotaro’s eyes. “What do you think I should name my new Snorlax?”

“Um, your what now?” Jotaro asked, unsure if he had heard him correctly. Kakyoin turned the device around, and pointed at what looked like a big, sleeping blob on the screen.

“As in the Pokémon Snorlax. What should his name be?”

“I, uh, don’t really know anything at all about games, so I don’t know”

Kakyoin regarded him with a strange look in his eye. “You… you’ve heard of Pokémon, right Jotaro?”

Silence fell over them as Jotaro looked into Kakyoin’s wide open eyes for a moment, before slowly shaking his head. Kakyoin let out something that sounded close to a whine before he quickly stood up, moving around the table before Jotaro had even registered what was going on.

“Scoot in a bit”

Jotaro did as he was told, and Kakyoin sat down beside him.

“It’s time for you to learn a bit about one of the greatest gaming-series ever made” he said and looked at Jotaro with a slight glint in his eyes.

“Let me just name this thing real quick” Kakyoin then pushed some of the buttons in a quick succession, clearly very used to doing whatever it was he was currently doing. Jotaro watched as he put in the name ‘Lazy Fuck’ under the big, sleeping blob.

“Isn’t that a bit mean?”

Kakyoin let out a small laugh in response. “It’s true though” Jotaro watched as text flashed across the small screen in a quick rate that he was unable to keep up with. Kakyoin kept pressing the buttons for a couple more moments before he shifted closer towards Jotaro, their bodies getting tightly pressed up against each other.

“I’ve started a new game for you. We’re just gonna skip the story-parts, what we want is to catch all the Pokémon”

“Why?”

“That’s the whole point of the game! Look” Kakyoin shoved the device closer to Jotaro’s face. “Pick one of these little guys”

“I, uh” Jotaro stammered slightly as he looked at the three small, brightly coloured blobs at the screen. “The blue thingy”

“Squirtle it is then!” Kakyoin said, as he pushed a button. “What do you want to name him?” he paused and looked up at Jotaro expectantly, his violet eyes sparkling.

“…Blue?” Jotaro replied uncertainty. Kakyoin let out an audible snort but gave him another bright smile.

“Sure thing, Blue it is”

Ten minutes or so later, Jotaro decided that he didn’t mind this Pokémon-thing too much. He and Kakyoin took turns naming everything they caught. Jotaro’s usually ended up being named after whatever colour they were or what animal they looked like. Kakyoin would instead name his after obscure pop-culture references that Jotaro only got about half of the time.

Kakyoin passed him the device when they managed to capture their next Pokémon. Jotaro thought for a few moments about what to name him, before deciding to simply call him ‘Kakyoin’.

“Wait, why are you naming him that?” Kakyoin asked him, as Jotaro gave the controller back.

Jotaro shrugged. “He kind of looks like your little hair strand” he replied and poked gently at the long, wavy piece of hair framing Kakyoin’s face. He didn’t miss the way Kakyoin’s cheeks flushed slightly at the contact.

“My hair does not look like a Slugma, Jotaro!” Kakyoin cried out and slapped him lightly on the shoulder, while clearly fighting to hold back a smile.

“It’s true though, same colour and everything” Jotaro said back, also trying to keep his expression serious, but failing miserably at it. Kakyoin wagged his finger at him.

“Just you wait, I’m gonna get you back for that” he warned, before his face shone up in the wide grin that he had been trying to hide earlier. Jotaro could feel his heart skip a beat.

He then realized how close to each other they were sitting, with both their arms and their legs pressed up against each other. He could smell the various scents coming off Kakyoin without even the slightest of trouble. He smelled kind of fruity, and sweet, but not overly so. With an underlying scent of comfort. Of warmth. The omega was clearly relaxed around him, which translated into his scent as well. It made Jotaro want to lean forward just a bit more and bury his face in his neck.

But he wouldn’t do that. Because he wasn’t a creep.

“Hey, Jo-otaro!”

Both Jotaro and Kakyoin quickly turned around when they heard the loud voice coming from behind them. Jotaro groaned internally as he watched Polnareff and Avdol walk towards them. Avdol was looking between the two of them, clearly wondering why they were seated so close together. Jotaro found himself leaning away slightly.

Polnareff had a twinkle in his eyes that Jotaro didn’t like one bit, since it usually meant that he was up to no good.

“Who is your friend here?” the Frenchman asked curiously as the two of them reached the table.

“I’m Noriaki Kakyoin, it is nice to meet you” Kakyoin said with a polite smile, his eyes jumping between the two men.

“Hey, how does your hair do that? It kinda looks like a noodle” Avdol elbowed Polnareff hard in his ribs and he quickly continued “in a good way, of course!”

“Regular perms and a lot of willpower” Kakyoin answered with a laugh. “And I guess it kind of does look a bit like a noodle”

“Sorry for my friend here, he doesn’t mean to be rude, that’s just how he always is. I’m Muhammad Avdol, and this is Jean Pierre Polnareff” Avdol said with a polite smile as he gestured between the two of them.

“I thought you were going to do schoolwork, Jotaro?” Polnareff asked as he looked down at the game still open and running in Kakyoin’s hands.

“We’re done for the day already” Jotaro replied curtly, as Kakyoin quickly put aside the device. Jotaro saw Polnareff and Avdol share a thoughtful look before turning their attention back towards the pair on the sofa.

“Jotaro apparently knows nothing about Pokémon, so I thought I would teach him the basics” Avdol let out a brisk laugh at Kakyoin’s words.

“Jotaro sure is hopeless when it comes to anything that doesn’t live in the sea” He said in agreement. Kakyoin let out a slight chuckle as well.

“You want anything?” Jotaro asked abruptly, narrowing his eyes at Avdol.

“We were just going to check if you wanted to walk to class together, break will be over in ten minutes”

“It’s fine. You guys go ahead” Jotaro answered them. Polnareff cocked his head slightly to the side. Avdol just gives him a slight smirk, like he knew something that he shouldn’t.

“Mind if we join you-“

“We should get going then!” Avdol exclaimed, drowning out Polnareff’s half formed question. He then grabbed a hold of Polnareff’s shoulders, starting to push him away from the scene. Polnareff gave Jotaro a disappointed glance, before Avdol kicked at his heel to get him to get a move on.

“See you later, Kakyoin!” Polnareff yelled as he was pushed away, his hand emerging over Avdol’s shoulder to wave towards them. Kakyoin just let out a slight laugh and waved back towards him.

“Your friends seem nice” he said as he gave Jotaro a genuine smile. Jotaro nodded.

“They’re a little annoying at times, but they’re good people” he responded, meeting Kakyoin’s eyes for a moment. Kakyoin moved to grab a hold of his gaming device again, flipping the screen open. He shifted slightly so that Jotaro could observe what he was doing. They stayed in a comfortable silence for a minute, before Jotaro cleared his throat. Kakyoin looked over at him expectantly.

“So” he begun, keeping his eyes focused on the tiny screen on Kakyoin’s handheld device. His mouth felt dry as he tried to form the question he wanted to ask.

“My brother is having a party at our house tomorrow night. They can get a bit noisy and… out of hand, but they are usually still really nice” Jotaro paused for a second.

“You could come over if you want?” it came out more as a question than an invitation. Jotaro finally met Kakyoin’s gaze, his eyes practically glowing.

“I’d love to”

Jotaro’s heart sped up. That had gone a lot smoother than he had thought it would. As Jotaro told him the details of the part Kakyoin quickly scribbled down his address in his notebook. Just as he finished the bell rang.

“I guess we should get moving” Kakyoin said. The heat from his body being pressed up against Jotaro’s suddenly left as he stood up. Jotaro immediately found himself missing the warmth.

They quickly said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Jotaro couldn’t help but watch as Kakyoin turned the corner, only to find him looking back at him as well. Kakyoin gave him a discrete wave and a slight tug of his lips, before he walked out of his line of sight. Jotaro turned back around and tried to remember where he was and where he was going, his mind suddenly feeling all muddled.

Jotaro realized that he was falling for Kakyoin.

And he was falling hard.

[lilyharvord]

Song of the Phoenix Part 4

Find Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3 

@evangelineartemiasamos, @mareshmallow, @scarletguardsource, @war-storm

      Rori had taken Dane’s old office, but any markings of the old owner had been removed. Now the room was decorated more sparsely, with fewer personal touches. I had almost grown used to it too, the brightly colored trinkets that Dane had collected during his travels and put all over the room had always been my favorites. Now, they have been replaced with many heavy books on law. If there was one thing Rori liked to show off, it was her knowledge of Monfort’s laws and history. 

       We had been shown into her office at sunset, and had been left with two cups of coffee for me and Cal, and a small cup of tea for his mother. She hadn’t touched it though, and it had gone cold a while ago. She had instead been staring out of the window behind that desk, watching the sun slowly set and light the room on fire. Cal had gotten tired of looking at me and telling me to sit down while I wandered around the room. The last time I had been in here, Rori had tried to get me to join up in her government, assuring me that I would be doing a great service to everyone. I had told her that it was probably best if I stayed away from governments for a while, and that I preferred what I was doing. 

       I wondered if she would try something similar this time. 

       As if my musing summons her, the sliding double doors into the room open and Rori steps in. An older woman, probably a few years younger than my mother, she was stiff and honestly reminded me of Anabel at times. She preferred to dress in a staunch uniform, that was neither military, nor political. She did not belong to either class of people, but instead saw herself as something in the middle. 

       She clears her throat to announce her presence, and Cal rises from his chair, to meet her eye. Waving his gesture of respect away, she slides behind her desk in a graceful swoop, her expression cool as she says, “Welcome back to Ascendant you two. And welcome back to the world of the living Miss Jacos.” 

      Coriane shifted uncomfortably in her chair, reaching out for her cup of tea. She nods softly at the greeting, and Rori eyes her carefully before saying, “My name is Rori Journ, I am the Premier of Montfort.” 

     “I know who you are, my son explained if very clearly,” Coriane replies, her voice sharpening slightly, but the words drop at the end, and I can see how her hands shake slightly in the small slosh of the tea in the cup. Cal seems to notice too, because he reaches out to set his hand on her knee. In response, she sets her hand on his. “You run a government that I have never heard of or seen, but this place… it is perhaps the most magical thing I have ever seen.” 

     “And you are perhaps the most magical thing we have seen.” Rori speaks without any of the genuine warmth that Cal’s mother managed to infuse in her voice. Slowly leaning forward and resting her forearms on the table, Rori continues, “Do you have any recollection of what happened? Perhaps you remember death?” 

      Coriane’s grip on the tea cup turns her knuckles black, and she swallows before saying, “I remember little to nothing, just blackness, and then waking up in the middle of a storm.” 

      “Amuse me if you will, what is the last thing you remember before the blackness?” Rori  asks as she slowly pulls a group of files from the top shelf of her desk. 

     “That hardly seems like a question-“ Cal begins, but Rori silences him with a look, as Coriane delicately sets her cup of tea back on the edge of the desk. Swallowing, she inhales deeply and closing her eyes whispers, “It’s all very fuzzy, a lot of what happened that night was not my own… thinking.”

      “How so?” Rori interrupts, as she opens one of the folders and uncaps her pen. Coriane watches it for a moment before saying, “A whisperer at the court had been in my head for years, at least that’s what I believe.” 

      Rori nods, her eyes never coming up from the paper as she writes that down. She looks up then, her brow raised. Seeing that this is an invitation to continue, Cal’s mother sits up a little straighter in her chair, clears her throat and says, “The only things I really remember are handing Cal to the nurse and then writing in my,” she trails off and then laughing softly to herself, continues with, “It must sound so silly, a grown woman writing in a diary. But I wrote one more entry, and then went into the bathroom. I remember the water, and the wall with the mirror, and the wedding crown. I threw it on the floor before getting into the tub.” 

      She looks down at her hand, and running her hand along the hem of her sleeve, she looks away. I narrow my eyes slightly, but watch as she slowly seems to transform. Her eyes harden, and her spine straightens further. For a moment, I could picture her like a queen, dressed in gold and black, the colors of her house mixed with Cal’s. She would have been beautiful; I could see how his father had loved her. 

      Meeting Rori’s eyes across the desk she said, “Is there a point to these questions?”

      Rori looked up from her file, her eyes searching us across the desk. Eventually, she folds her fingers together and asks, “Do you know what happens when dead people come back Miss Jacos?”

       Coriane raised her brow, the first true sign that I had seen of her being shocked by the use of that title. Her lips pursed before she said, “No, but I do know that I was married before death, and that there is a proper title because of that.” 

        “Til death do you part is the vow, I believe. As you both passed away, I believe that the title is no longer fitting. You were not a widow were you? Your husband was a widower for perhaps half a year before he married again. You two are no longer married by law. I believe it was customary in court to keep your family’s name as well?”

        Whatever wind had been in Coriane’s sail was lost with that comment, and she seemed to try and sink into the chair. Something in me ached at that, and I said carefully, “Cal is living proof of their union.” 

       “But he is not a marriage certificate. Children are born out of wedlock quiet often, are they not?” She narrowed her eyes on me, and I quickly dropped my eyes. When none of us seemed willingly to provide any more evidence against her, Rori reached up to fix her hair, although nothing was out of place. She collected herself for another second before saying, “When dead people come back, people get scared. Why didn’t my loved one come back, why did my enemy come back?” 

       Cal seems to shift for a moment in the chair, as if he is already thinking of the long, long list of people that we both put in the ground who would not be happy to see us. Rori does not miss the movement, and I feel oddly like a student again, sitting in front of the teacher after I had been caught with Kilorn for a prank that we had pulled. 

     Steepling her fingers, Rori points them at Coriane and says with a cool smile, “You are not alone though. We have reports flowing in from all over the country of strange storms, and people who were long thought dead returning. We have no explanation for such events., although our electricons have begun to develop a method for detecting the storms before they occur.” 

      “Electricons?” Coriane whispers in confusion, and Rori simply gestures in my direction. I tense, realize that she had never seen my ability in action. Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I held my hand out. Summoning the sparks feels glorious and they dance across my fingertips, before catching and stretching between my fingers like webbing. The bright purple light races up my arm before I force it back down to my hand where it dies slowly. 

       “Fabulous Miss Barrow,” Rori says as she watches my hand. “We’ll need you working with the others to help us detect these storms. Did you happen to detect the storm that brought Miss Jacos to us?”

      “Yes,” I whisper softly, making Coriane turn to me in shock. She had been staring at my hand the entire time, mesmerized by the sight of lightning in my hand. It normally took people some time to get used to the idea that I could just conjure electricity from thin air. There was no need for it to already be present, although we had determined that when I harnessed a storm without creating it, I was impossibly deadly. Ignoring the look she gives me, I continue, “I had no idea what it was though. I thought I just had a headache from the power of the storm.” 

       “Interesting, Rafe complained of something similar hours before one hit, but the others have observed a sort of diminishing in their abilities when the storms are directly above them, did you notice such a thing?”Rori asks, turning all her attention on me. She reminds me of a damn bird of prey sometimes, or something that wants to pick my bones clean and then use them to clean its teeth. Raising my chin though, I say, “I’m not in the practice of going out and training in storms anymore.” 

      “Pity,” Rori observes, her eyes dancing to my hand again, this time the one missing my engagement ring. I slowly shift it to my side so that it is out of her view, and she barely reacts. Whatever was going through her mind, it must have been interesting. She does not give me her attention for long though, and eventually turns back to Coriane saying, “We need to determine if there is a pattern to the people returning. Or even better, if we can determine how you are returning, we can perhaps put a stop to it or learn to control it somehow.” 

     “Control it?” Cal asks with a snort before saying, “You want to be able to bring certain people back?”

       “If there is a murder Mr. Calore, who do you think would know the killer better, the victim or the witness?” Rori eerily asks, as she rises from her desk. 

       “Depends on if the killer stood in the front or the back.” Cal replies sharply, his eyes devoid of all the warmth I loved so much. Rori turns back to him from the small table where she is pouring herself some coffee. She smiles at Cal, setting the tea pot down before saying, “Of course. Another hypothetical situation then? Someone knows very important information, but they were killed before they could deliver it. Imagine the power one could have if they could control whether or not that information actually got to its destination.”

      “It sounds like you want to play a game of god,” I say coolly. She frowns at me before turning back around to pour tea into her cup. When she turns around Rori says, “Miss Barrow when I was a little girl, before Montfort became even more balanced, and the Silvers ruled over us, do you know what my parents called them?”

       I swallowed my retort, waiting for her to speak. She tilts her head to the side with a curious smile and says, “gods, we thought they had actually come down from the heavens to rule over us. I’m sure you experienced a similar situation growing up, until you discovered you could do things they never dreamed of?”

       I looked away, avoid both Cal’s and Rori’s eyes. She did not stop talking though, her voice cool as she said, “Do you know what they called Ardents when they first began appearing? Young gods, Miss Barrow, sent to battle the Silvers who had abused their power. I’m sure plenty of the little red children in Norta who saw you called you a god.” 

      “They mostly wanted me to not show up at their houses.” I said harshly. Regardless of the argument she was trying to make, something was not right about determining who came back and who stayed dead. What if it turned out it wasn’t something that could be controlled? It would be fun to watch Rori stumble over that roadblock, but I had a feeling she would not be this confident unless she knew something and wasn’t telling anyone.

      Sitting back down at her desk, she sips at her tea for a moment before saying, “For the time being, I want you to stay in Ascendant Miss Jacos. As for you two, Miss Barrow and Mister Calore, I’m afraid you’ll have to stay as well. If the dead are returning, and we have no control over it, then anyone could return at any moment. It would be best if you both were not alone when that happens.” 

      Cal rises from the chair quickly then, offering his mother his hand. She takes it, and he pulls her to her feet before saying, “Thank you for the coffee and tea, Premier.” 

      “Of course, if you remember anything else Miss Jacos, do not hesitate to contact my office and ask to speak to me.” Rori smiles at us, and I grab my coat in a huff before pulling it on and following Cal out the door. 

       We pass through the multiple marble hallways that take us out into the main building center. There are representatives everywhere, walking to and from their offices, carrying folders of paperwork or just their early dinner if they are staying late. I walk next to Cal as he keeps a tight grip on his mother’s arm. I can practically see the steam rising from him, and his mother tries futilely to pull her arm from his grip. 

       “Cal,” I spit eventually, and he stops, spinning around to say, “She is insufferable.” 

      “Let go of your mother’s arm,” I continue as if he never spoke, and he looks down at his hand which is gripping her arm in a vice. He releases it softly, and then whispers an apology. She smiles softly and rubs at the spot before saying, “She does not make friends easily I take it?”

      “The representatives voted her in because she was conservative compared to Dane. She didn’t want to go to war anymore, and really only wanted to deal with things back here. She campaigned on the platform that we should get rid of the Raiders before we went around pushing our beliefs on everyone else. Fat lot it’s done us,” Cal says as he starts walking again. His long strides mean that his mother and I almost have to run to keep up with him. He doesn’t slow down either, and I have to roll my eyes as we step out of the building and onto the long line of stairs to the bottom. 

      Coriane seems to take them two at a time next to me and huffs, “Is he normally like this after a meeting with her?”

     “I call it the soldier mode,” I grumble as I try to keep up, “he’ll rant for a few minutes and then be over it.” 

     Sure enough, Cal rants all the way back to my parent’s town house. At least he slows down at times though when he sees us falling behind. Eventually, I give up trying to keep up, and so does his mother, which means he often has to sit on corners and wait for us. His mother has more than enough questions though, about the shops we pass, and the people. She eyes a young silver couple walking with their friends who are red, and then asks me, “Is this place really true? It can’t be possible, all of this.” 

     “I used to think there had to be a catch, that there was something that was being kept from me, but I worked with Dane for years. It’s all true, all of it.” I reply with a smile, as I watch the group enter a small coffee shop, chattering about a play they were seeing tonight. We pass by the shop, and the smell of fresh bread hits my nose, making my mouth water. I swallow, and then gesture up a street and say, “My sister works at a shop up that way, and my brother Tramy works near her too. He’s going to take over the little garden shop once it’s owner dies. He’s been working under him for years.” 

      “We should go see both of them!” His mother says suddenly, and then slips behind me to make her way up the street. I freeze in surprise and say, “Wait!” 

      Cal turns the corner toward my parent’s home ahead of me, and I end up stuck between them. It’s an easy choice though. Cal knows the city, his mother… does not. So I hurry after her, sprinting up the hill to catch her. She is paused outside of a jewelry window, looking over some of the necklaces in the window when I finally reach her. She turns to smile at me and then says, “Lead the way.” 

     Catching my breath, I try not to growl in annoyance, and instead force calm before gesturing up the street. She follows at a happy pace, looking around at all of the shops. There are very few people on the street right now for such a lovely day in early spring. No doubt everyone was at home preparing for some sort of late winter snow, or maybe even a rain storm. I pick up the pace a little at the thought. I do not want to get caught out in either. Snow seems unlikely though, especially with how warm it is. 

       I lead us around another corner and the shop Gisa works in comes in focus. The window is filled with beautiful fabrics on display, as well as a few dresses. I open the door, causing the little bell above it to ring. 

      I hear movement in the back as we step in, and then my sister’s head pokes out from the doorway behind the counter. She grins brightly at us and then says, “Mare! I wasn’t expecting you.” 

      “We’re on our way back from the meeting with Rori, thought we’d stop by and say hello.” I say as I look over a bolt of fabric that she has pulled from the rack. It’s stunning lace, and I finger it for a moment before Gisa appears on my shoulder and whispers in my ear, “Do you want to see the sketch I have for your dress?”

       I glare at her and then reply in an equally soft whisper, “I told you I was just going to do something from a store. I don’t want you wasting your pay and your time on-“ 

       “What kind of sister would I be if I didn’t make my sister’s wedding dress?” Gisa admits, and I can’t ignore the little whine of pain her voice. Sighing, I shake my head and say, “It’s sweet, but Gisa I don’t want you to spend that much on me.” 

      “I want to though, not only will you look stunning, but everyone will want to buy my dresses then because Mare Barrow wore one for her wedding.” Gisa teases as she squeezes my arm. I have to laugh with her as I take my hand off the fabric. She looks at it with me for a moment before saying, “I don’t know how good you would look in satin, so I was thinking lace, maybe even a lace veil, something super long so that you have to have people carry it behind you.”  

       “Do I look like I want to wear a train that long?” I ask with a smile before glancing at Cal’s mother over my shoulder. She is fingering a particularly beautiful blouse that Gisa’s master had made. I nudge her and then say, “You have a customer.” 

      She frowns at Coriane and then whispers, “it’s so odd, she looks like she’s the same age as you, but she’s Cal’s mother. She could be his sister.” I frown and then turn back to look at the lace again. Reaching for another pattern, I say, “She’s going through a lot. She died when he was only two. He’s grown now, and she has no idea who he is as a person.” 

       Gisa looks at me for a moment and then whispers, “Or any idea about the two of you.” 

     “What makes you think that?” I grumble, and she nods to my bare left hand. Her words a careful as she says, “Mama almost had a fit when she didn’t see it. She thought you two had broken off the engagement and just hadn’t told anyone.” 

      Shaking my head, I glance over my shoulder again quickly, but she’s moved further away from us. Leaning my head toward my sister I say, “It’s my fault. I took the ring off. Cal wanted to tell her, but I… I don’t trust her yet.” 

      “Does she know that you two were… together, at all?” Gisa whispers in surprise, and I shake my head again quickly. Her eyes widen and she hisses, sounding oddly like our mother, “Mare! She’s going to probably have a heart attack if she finds out the two of you lied about the whole thing.” 

      “We’ll tell her when I’m comfortable with her.” I assured, but I don’t sound very certain. Gisa shakes her head at me and then whispers, “You’re asking for trouble.” 

       With that she crosses the little shop to Coriane, and smiling, asks if she likes anything. Mostly she just has questions, some about Gisa, which pieces are hers, and where she learned to sew so beautifully. My sister is more than happy to talk about her sewing, and eventually her painting. 

      I ignore them both for the most part, wandering around the store and looking at all the bolts of fabric. I hear my name come up in the conversation though, and glance over my shoulder and tune back into the conversation. 

        Coriane gestures to me and then says, “You seem very close with your sister.” 

      Gisa glances at me for a moment before saying, “It wasn’t always that way.”  

       “You were always a stuck up pain,” I say with a shrug and she sticks her tongue out before saying, “Mare was jealous, the only thing she was good at was pick pocketing, until she got the wrong person and ended up with her hand in a prince’s purse.” 

        I flip around on her, and she smiles, only for it to fall quickly when she realizes how far she went. Coriane looks between the two of us and hesitantly says, “Oh?” 

       Gisa’s eyes scream an apology, and I have no choice but to look back at the pattern I was eyeing before and say, “Yes. I tried to steal something from Cal. That’s how we met.” 

      Coriane laughs at that, and I look at her with narrowed eyes, trying to understand where the joke is. She smiles at me and then says, “What in heaven’s name was he doing out in the Stilts?”

      “He liked to frequent the bars there when the court was staying at Summerton, he wanted to know the truth about what was going on with us. He didn’t just want the information from his advisors. My friend was in trouble, and I needed money. So, I reached into his pocket and he caught me.” 

       “Much to Mare’s surprise, she was the best thief in the Stilts.” Gisa says as she hurries by me to hide behind the counter and go back to work. I glare at her, wanting to punch her in the teeth. She was certainly painting a lovely picture of me. Thief turned princess, turned murderer, I was certainly a colorful portrait now. 

     “I’m surprised Tibe let him do such a thing,” Coriane murmurs as her brow furrows. She shakes her head with a sigh and then says, “Unless he did it in secret and didn’t tell him.” 

      “That was probably the case,” I agreed, and Gisa looked between the two of us. She clears her throat eventually and then says, “Speaking of Cal, where is he?”

     Coriane straightens up in surprise and then looks around as if she just realized her son was missing. I shrug and reply, “Probably almost back to the town house, that, or on his way back here trying to find us.” 

      “Should we go find him?” Coriane asks in worry, and I smirk before shaking my head. She looks out at the sky which is getting much darker, as night approaches, her face pinched in worry. Gisa looks up from her work on the counter and says, “He probably assumed you went to see me. He’ll be at the town house when we get back. I’m closing in a few minutes. We can walk back together.” 

      Coriane does not seem at all calmed by that statement, but nods nonetheless. Her unease makes her for an uncomfortable companion while we wait for Gisa to clean up the shop and lock the door behind us. Even as we make our way down the streets to the town house, she seems to want to sprint ahead of us, or push us faster. I wonder if this is what my mother had looked like when I used to run off and play in the mud by the river. She’d had three boys before me though, so I doubted she was all that worried about me.

      As we rounded the corner to the townhouse, the streets become a little busier, even though a light drizzle has started to fall. I can see the light on in the living room of the house, and I can almost imagine how warm it is inside. Through the open curtains, I can see my father in his chair by the fire place, smiling as he watches something in front of him. Bree passes by the widow to collapse in a chair out of sight, and Tramy follows, probably bickering with his brother. 

   We start up the steps, and Gisa opens the door before announcing us to everyone. My mother pokes her head out of the living room and says, “Thank goodness! We were beginning to worry that you all had gotten lost.” 

     Clara pokes her head out near my mother’s legs and then says, “Aunt Mare, hurry up and come help me with my puzzle. Cal is not helping.” 

      I smile as I shrug my coat off and slip out of my boots before entering the room. Sure enough there are pieces all over the floor, and Cal is laying on his side next to them, propped up by his elbow. Clara grabs my hand and pulls me toward them before sitting down cross legged on the floor. She pouts and then says, “Cal says we have to do the edge first, but I want to do the picture first.” 

       “He’s right. It’s easier to do the outsides first and then middle.” I say as I sit down next to her. She narrows her eyes at me and then says, “You never agree with Cal.” 

      “Do to,” I argue with a teasing smile, “But only when he’s right, which is not often.” 

       Cal grunts at that, and then smiles at me. At least he was in a better mood. His mother slips into the doorway then, as Gisa squeezes by her to force her way between Bree and Tramy on the couch to watch everyone. My mother watches Coriane for a few moments before saying, “I can bring you a chair from the kitchen-“ 

      “I think I’m just going to go to bed. Thank you though.” She smiles softly at all of us, and then says, “Excuse me.” 

      With that she vanishes like a phantom. The stairs creak slightly, and in the silence that follows her departure, we can all hear her moving down the hallway upstairs, and closing the door quietly. 

      “Odd sort isn’t she?” My dad grunts, and I throw a piece of the puzzle at him, before hissing at him to mind his manners. He smirks at me and then dipping his head to Cal says, “Must run in the family.” 

       Cal laughs at that and then sits up a little straighter to say, “I’ll check on her in a little bit.” 

      Gisa gets up then to tell our mother the truth about our engagement and she nods gravely. Eventually my sister relays the information to everyone. My brothers are not happy with the whole thing, but agree to play along. My dad is the most displeased. He watches the two of us for a moment before saying, “You two have been pulled apart by everything, including each other. And you want to let something like this do it again?”

        “It’s not like we’re not together Dad,” I assure him as I help Clara put a few pieces together. She hadn’t understood what me and Cal being engaged meant, when we had first come to my family with the news. As far as she was concerned, we had already been married because she saw us kissing, and only married people kissed according to her. It was nothing special for her to not see me wearing my ring, but it was an added bonus that she had never really liked calling Cal anything other than Cal; although Farley had tried for a while to get “stupid” to be his new name. Clara had liked it, for a time, and then had gotten bored of it. So at least we didn’t have to worry about her slipping up and calling him uncle or something like that. 

      “I just think it’s ridiculous,” My dad argues as he rises from his chair. He ruffles Cal’s hair in an oddly paternal way as he passes and says, “I would think you would protest the most. You were the one who spent months planning that proposal and asking each of us for permission.” 

       Cal’s face pales with a blush at the accusation and then says softly, “If Mare is uncomfortable, then I won’t put her in a position that makes it worse.” 

      “Just be careful,” my mother whispers, “I know I would be furious if I found out that my sons had been hiding their engagements from me because they thought I would be upset with who they chose.” Bree snorts at that, and gets a glare from my mother in response. 

      “All of that thinking is in the past,” my dad agrees, and I sigh as I whisper, “That’s the problem, she’s from the past. She doesn’t understand anything that is going on, let alone how much everything has changed.” 

      “Then you two can be her introduction to it.” My dad argues, and I purse my lips before saying stiffly, “We already made the decision. We’re sticking with it.”  

      Cal looks at me carefully, and I sigh, forcing the tension out of my shoulders with the exhale. Reaching for another piece of Clara’s puzzle that she’s searching for, I offer it to her and say, “I need time, I need to know who she is.” 

       No one argues with me about that, not even Cal, who simply reaches across the space to set his hand on my knee. His touch is warm and reassuring as he caresses his thumb up and down the inside of my leg. I fear how much I will miss it in the coming months, when these touches will be forbidden once more.

[emmas-storybook]

When The Right One Comes Along (2/?)

Summary: Modern AU - Killian and Emma are neighbors who occasionally pass in the hallway, when Emma has a seizure and Killian has to take her in. Fluff and a bit of humor ensue, as well as a date that turns into more.

Notes: So I did a thingy and wrote a second part to this story! I may be adding more parts, but i’m not 100% sure yet. If you missed the first part, you can read it here. This is my first shot at a multi-chapter fic, so bear with me :). And shoutout for @profdanglaisstuff who beta-d this for me and caught all of my silly mistakes!

Word count: 1197

Read on A03 here

After Emma had gotten dressed, the two made their way out to Killian’s car. They’d decided it would be better off if he drove, given the circumstances. The drive to The Rabbit Hole was no more than ten minutes, and most of the ride was spent listening to the radio.

Suddenly, Killian interrupted the barely audible music. “Y’know, I’m really trying to play it cool, but I’m truly nervous, love,” he stated with a timid chuckle.

“Oh really? I couldn’t tell at all,” Emma winked, “But it’s all good, I feel the same way.”

“Great minds think alike,” Killian smiled, still looking ahead at the road, and slyly snuck his right hand over to her thigh and gave a small squeeze, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Emma.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Killian went over to the passenger side and opened the door for Emma. “Milady.” He smiled and took a wry bow.

The two made their way in and took a seat at a booth towards the back, each sitting across from the other. Emma wasn’t usually one for those ‘romantic things’, but she couldn’t help feeling a hint of fondness for Killian. Just from one day, she’d learned that he was caring, and had her best interests in mind. He respected her boundaries, and wasn’t turned off by her vulnerable moments that the seizure had caused. Most of the people in her life had left her, but he was different. He genuinely cared.

“Love?” Killian questioned.

Emma snapped out of her moment of musing, “Sorry, I was just...thinking,” she gave him an apologetic smile.

“About me, I assume?” He smirked

“You wish”

As the night went on, the two conversed about various things, learning more about each other. Emma learned that Killian had moved from England with his brother when they were younger, and that he had graduated two years early to go to medical school. He was a nurse in the ICU, so Emma’s suspicions were put to rest; he wasn’t trying to make a fashion statement with those scrubs.

Killian learned that Emma had been diagnosed with epilepsy just a few years ago, and that she was still in a trial-and-error process with finding the right medications to control the seizures. They only happened around once a week, usually when she was overly stressed or tired. He also learned that she currently worked at the local bank as a secretary, usually opting to take the bus there instead of driving due to her seizures.

After Emma had gotten Killian to agree to let her pay the bill (post-arguing with him about it for nearly five minutes), the two went out to the car and headed on their way home.

“Love?” Killian hesitantly questioned. Emma turned her head to look at him and gave him an encouraging nod, silently giving him the go ahead to continue his question.

“Would you want to come over to my apartment for a little while longer? I have the day off tomorrow so I have a bit of time to work with,” he added a wink, “But it’s quite alright if you’d prefer me to walk you straight to yours for the night.”

Emma smiled, “Of course I’d love to stay for a little bit. I feel like being on your couch might be a little more comfortable when i’m actually conscious and not drooling,” she scoffed.

Once they had made their way up to the hallway, Killian unlocked his door and motioned for Emma to go inside. Emma made her way to his couch, and Killian into the kitchen.

“I’m getting a water, love. Would you like anything? Perhaps a cupful of your drool from earlier?” He winked, “Just kidding, but really, is there anything I can get you?”

Emma rolled her eyes playfully, “A water too, please. I’d prefer not to drink a bodily fluid unless I’m stranded on a remote island.”

Killian grabbed Emma a water and made his way to settle on the couch next to her. He was surprised at how well the night was going, and he was already mesmerized by everything about this woman. She was beautiful, witty, kind, and trusted him while she was vulnerable. He could tell that she had built walls around her heart, but he was willing to be patient. He wanted to be the one to take those walls down, brick by brick. Suddenly, Killian’s thoughts were interrupted by a light touch to his thigh.

“Hey, do you wanna see what’s on Netflix, maybe watch a movie?”

“Of course, that’d be wonderful. Let me turn the tv on first.”

After what seemed like hours of debating and indecisiveness between the two of them, they finally made a mutual decision to watch Mama Mia (Okay, maybe not a mutual decision. More like Emma giving in to Killian insisting they watch it). About halfway through the movie, Killian heard a snore escape from Emma. He turned to look at her, and sure enough, she was dead asleep. Killian chuckled to himself, and grabbed one of his throw blankets from the back of the couch, and tucked her in. As silently as he could manage, Killian turned off the movie and made his way to his bedroom, double checking that the lamp in the living room was left on to give her a nightlight. Once he had thrown on PJs and crawled into bed, he smiled to himself. Today had been a good day, and he was already smitten with Emma Swan.

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

Emma woke up to the sun peeking through her blinds. Which definitely weren’t her blinds. She quickly sat up and looked around. Soon enough, she realized that she must have fallen asleep on Killian during their movie. He’d obviously tucked her in and conveniently plugged in her phone for her. Always a gentleman, his earlier words rang in her ear.

“Ah, I see you’re awake, love. Sleep well?”

Emma jumped up from the couch, startled, only to find Killian smiling at her from the kitchen. So he’s an early riser, she thought to herself.

“Damn you scared me,” she chuckled, “But yes, very. Thanks for letting me stay the night. And tucking me in,” She added with a wink.

“Care for some breakfast? I can make us some pancakes if you care for those?”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Emma chimed, and made her way towards the kitchen. Despite her tiredness and post-sleep look, Emma assisted Killian with making their breakfast. Once they had eaten and cleaned up the dishes, Emma grabbed her stuff from the table in the living room.

“I really should get going now, but I had a really great time. Other than the having-a-seizure part, but you get what I mean.”

Killian smiled, “Of course love. I’m glad you enjoyed our time together.”

Emma leaned over and gave Killian a chaste kiss on the cheek, making him blush.

“See you soon, Killian,” Emma gave him a sultry smile, letting his door close behind her. Just a few minutes after she’d gotten settled in her apartment, she received a message on her phone.

See you for a second date this weekend?

[archangelgabriellives]

Nightmares Part 2

[Part 1]  [Part 3]

Well this thing has officially gotten out of hand. 1300 words? Where? Where did they come from? 

Tags: Sabriel, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, angst

~~

The walk down the cold hallway seemed like it took forever. Sam’s fingers on Gabriel’s shoulders felt like they were digging deep into his bones. The cold concrete floor felt like it was burning his bare feet, and every step he took was another that led to more pain, more torture. But there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Sam guided Gabriel around a corner, and suddenly, he was trapped. Gabriel’s vision tunneled, and the hall seemed to stretch on forever. Inky blackness swirtled at in the corners, threatening to overtake his vision and throw him back into the terror of his nightmare. Gabriel twisted his fingers together, picking at his skin as his breathing grew more and more ragged.

“Gabriel?” Sam’s voice pulled him back a little, reminded him that he was safe at the bunker. “You ok?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Sure thing, Sammy.” Gabriel’s voice was shaking slightly, but even with his eyes darting all around him, he managed a small smile at the tall hunter. Sam frowned, clearly not convinced by the archangels attempts to prove he was alright.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I’ve been talking to you this whole time and you haven't responded at all. Plus, you're still trembling.”

Gabriel stuttered for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Um, you know, it was just a nightmare. Guess I’m still trying to shake it off.”

“Hmm,” Sam hummed, clearly not buying it. “Ok, well, I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah, ok.”

Sam gave one last comforting squeeze to Gabriel’s shoulder, then turned to head to his room, leaving Gabriel standing dumbly in front of his own. But as he turned to open the door, Gabriel found himself frozen. The thought of going back into that room again made his stomach roll and his lungs constrict painfully.

They had given him his old room back. The room where he used a little of his already faded grace to sear his story on the walls as a way to reach out, and a few protections too. When he left after he defeated Asmodeus, Sam and Dean had to tear down the drywall to get rid of it. But the fragment of grace that he used never left. It hung in the air, and Gabriel was unwilling to let that small bit of tainted and fractured grace back into his body. He didn't want another part of him to be sullied by the presence of the demon who tortured him for years.

Gabriel knew that’s what caused his terrible nightmares, what made him feel like there were eyes on him all the time. His grace wanted him back, wanted to be whole again. But it was warped, gruesome, almost self aware. Gabriel hated being alone with it.

Hands were on him again, cupping his jaw softly, fingers wiping away tears that Gabriel didn't know were falling.

“Gabriel?” Sam was crowded up close to him, worry coloring his features. “Gabriel, talk to me.”

He tried, he really did. He tried to tell Sam that most nights he could handle it, that the room didn't always remind him of being tortured, that he hated being alone. But when he opened his mouth to speak, all that came out were raspy broken gasps. He sucked in shallow breaths as he felt the strength in his legs start to fade. Sam was there to catch him, though, and he half carried, half dragged Gabriel down the hall to his own room.

“Alright, you're ok,” Sam said as he guided Gabriel into his room, leaving the door open so the panicy angel didn't feel trapped. “Here we go. Sit right here.” He sat Gabriel on the edge of the bed and dropped to his knees in front of him. Sam scooted in close, right in between Gabriel’s legs and gently stroked his hands up and down Gabriel’s arms. “I need you to breath, Gabriel. Can you try and do that for me?”

It took him a second, but Gabriel nodded.

“Good,” Sam smiled wide. “Breathe with me. Ok? In…,” his hands slid up Gabriel’s arms as they both took a breath in, “and out.” Sam’s hands glided down as their breaths mingled between them, ending with Gabriels hands clutched in his own, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “So good, Gabriel. You're doing so good. Can you do it again?”

They repeated the process a few times, breathing in and out, until Gabriel’s panic had subsided and his tears had stopped.

Sam reached up, a hand on Gabriel’s neck as he rose from the floor. “I’m gonna get you some water, ok?”

Gabriel only nodded, his eyes on the floor.

Sam retrieved the water quickly, and sat on the bed next to Gabriel as he handed him the glass.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” Sam asked as Gabriel took a few gulps of water.

“...I can't go back in there. Not right now.” Gabriel gripped the glass in his hands so hard it could crack.

Sam raised a hand to Gabriel’s back. “Can you tell me why?”

Gabriel spoke around the lump forming in his throat again, his words hushed and terrified. “He’s still in there.”

“Oh, Gabriel.” Sam’s heart ached for his friend. “I’m so sorry,” he said as he pulled Gabriel into a loose side hug. “He can't hurt you anymore. He is dead. You killed him, remember?”

“I know, Sam. I know,” Gabriel whispered as he leaned into Sam’s solid form, “but it just feels like he’s not gone. He’ll never be gone, not all the way. And I can't…” The tears formed in his eyes again, and Gabriel could feel himself crumbling under the weight of everything again.

Suddenly, Sam was up off the bed, surprising Gabriel as he rounded to the other side.

“Sam,” Gabriel asked in bewilderment, “what are you doing?”

As he pulled his blankets back, Sam smiled at him. “Get in, Gabriel.”

Gabriel was off the bed just as quick as Sam was, backing up towards the door with his hands up in defeat. “Oh, no. No, Sam. You don't have to let me in your bed.” Gabriel’s heart ached with each word that fell out of his mouth. There was nothing more that he wanted than to lay with Sam, to feel protected by the large hunter. He hadn't felt safe in so long.

But Sam wasn't going to hear any of Gabriel’s protests.

“I’m not going to let you be alone tonight, Gabriel.” Sam caught Gabriel before he could bolt out the open door. He gripped Gabriel’s wrists gently, and after a quick thought, raised them up to place a kiss on one of Gabriel’s palms, the other pressed against his chest. “And I’m not going to let you be afraid anymore.”

Gabriel stared wide eyed at the man in front of him, shocked at the tender kiss. “...Sam.”

“Please come to bed,” Sam pleaded in a hushed voice. “Let me help you.”

A tear fell, rolled down Gabriel’s cheek until Sam reached out to wipe it away. It was all too much for him, and Gabriel cried. More tears came, the sobs hurt his lungs, but Sam was there for him. He wrapped Gabriel in his long arms, held him while he weeped. When he quieted a little, Sam easily picked up the angel, and with Gabriel’s arms wrapped around his neck, he got them both into his bed.

“It’s ok. I’ve got you, Gabriel.”

Gabriel cried as he listened to Sam’s words, did his best to believe them. He let Sam’s larger body envelope him, block him out from the world around him. And as he focused on the feeling of Sam’s fingers in his hair and the light rumble in his chest as the hunter spoke, Gabriel drifted off to sleep again.

~~

ok, where is the fluff, Alison???? I am capable of this, just so you know. And I have a thought for a part 3. oh god. this is a never ending fic. 

Sabriel tags

@bloody-destiel-sabriel @little-boyking @howaboutnotcaring @viana-dascolli @thetricksterarchangel @sabbycorgs @amywyn13 @nnegann @ajcza @digi-doubles @midnightstar789 @forgot-to-care-again @imbiowaresbitch @destielandsabrielshipper2017 @eventuations

Everything tags

@doctor-zyre @ourloveisforthelovely @authoressskr @superwhoavengelocketc-blog @sumara62 @mscrazycatbitch @emmii4 @redberrysweets @space-time-paradox @tgpanther @anxietywontmakethewordsgo @I4life @l4life @acarpouschimerical @warlockwriter

Nightmare tags

@gammaspectrum @sa5nthunderheadrev @ace-of-black-hearts @scrollingkingfisher @imbiowaresbitch @midnightstar789 @supernatural618 @gabrielsammysangel @yeahbecauseimbatman @nathyfaith 

[kyouryokusenshi]

Homecoming

Summary: Post MSIV. Doggett welcomes Reyes home. SMUT. Written late for the @xfpornbattle .

Read on ao3

Also tagging @today-in-fic

Thanks so much to @marinafrenzy for beta-ing!

Notes: This is in the same universe as "Into the Unknown" where Monica and John make an appearance and reunite with one another. I didn't include this piece in that story, because I'd have to change the story to mature and since it started as an Instagram fanfic, it wouldn't work to post this on that platform.

Monica Reyes just finished explaining to John Doggett that she had spent well over a decade working as a double agent. It was a difficult concept to entertain at first, and to be honest, the mere mention of her working for the smoking bastard was enough to make Doggett shiver with discomfort. But something in him told him he owed it to Monica to hear the whole story. And what a story it was. A depopulation of the entire planet, with William being the key, a virus. He didn't believe it at first, it was his nature to question everything. It was a lot to contemplate, even if his years on the X-Files made him a little less rigid about extreme possibilities.

"He wanted William to fulfill those plans. I decided to put a stop to his agenda by contacting Agent Scully and giving her and Mulder a lead on William’s whereabouts, so they could find him before he did. Then Skinner shot me," she mused with a wry smile.

"So he's dead...for good this time? The smoking man?" John asked.

Monica nodded. "Yes, though I have my suspicions. The man survived a missile strike."

Sensing her fears, John reached for Monica's hand. "Let's not focus on that right now," he said huskily.

His familiar touch sent shivers down her spine. It had been too long. An overworked workaholic,that's basically what she had been for the past decade.

That familiar look in his eye was one she recognized. One that had craved intimacy following cases and that brought back memories of the many occasions when they consummated their relationship.

"Are you sure about this, John?" She didn't want either of them to make decisions they would later regret.

"Shut up and kiss me, Monica," he pulled her towards him and she fell into his embrace.

He cupped her face as their lips connected and she felt the tension slowly melt from her body as she returned the kiss.

Monica reached her arms around him, snaking her hands around his neck and up to his head, clasping threads of his hair between her fingers.

John took it a step further by slipping his tongue into her mouth, to which she happily obliged as their tongues danced together.

Their lips broke apart and Monica threw her head back, moaning as John began to tease her neckline with slow kisses and nibbling.

"Oh God, John. You're killing me," she said breathlessly.

"You like that huh?" He asked, clearly enjoying what this was doing to her.

Monica pulled forward and grinned. "You shouldn't start things you have no intention of finishing, John," she whispered as she moved to grip the hem of his shirt.

John grinned as he happily assisted her with removing his top.

Monica placed her hand on his bare chest and slowly teased his chest hair as she admired his physique. He had filled out in all the right places yet was still impressively fit.

"Don't stop what you started, Monica," he leaned in to whisper in her ear before he Began to lift her top.

Monica moved her arms and allowed him to remove her shirt in one swift motion.

She pushed him forward as he walked backwards, towards his bedroom. "I'm ready for that house tour," she whispered before nibbling his ear.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said as he moved his hands to unfasten the clip of her bra.

He managed to undo it in one attempt, and Monica threw the garment across the room, not watching as it landed onto the sofa.

John felt the strain of his erection against the confinement of his jeans at the sight of her breasts, perky and firm. Keeping fit and never having been a mother probably attributed to that.

The next few moments were a blur until John felt himself falling back on the base of his queen-sized bed.

"Someone wants to say hello," Monica grinned deviously as she pressed her hand against his erection.

John moaned. "Oh Monica,"

"Did I ever tell you how I love it when you cry my name?" she asked as she moved to straddle him.

Slowly she moved on top of him and trailed her tongue down his chest.Her nipples hardened in anticipation.

The sight of her was almost too much to bear for John. He reached out and cupped her breasts in his hands, teasing her nipples with his thumb.

Monica pulled back, never losing sight of him as she moved to undo his belt.

To facilitate the process, John reached out and unzipped his zipper, eager to be out of his constraints. His pants were off as fast as he had undone her bra, and he watched as Monica slowly slipped out of her slacks.

Moving towards him, she returned to her place on the base of the bed. She was already wet with desire after spending countless nights thinking about him in order to get herself off. Had he felt the same about her? Or had he moved on and didn't tell her? No, John wouldn't do that. He was always faithful and loyal, just like...well, a dog. Speaking of which, he really should get a dog.

Watching her was killing him and it was only making John realize just now how much he missed not only her unusual theories and brilliant mind, but how she always seemed to know exactly what he wanted, in and out of the bedroom.

The next thing John knew, Monica was slowly removing his briefs until they fell to his ankles and she took him into her hands and massaged slowly back and forth.

Once they were undressed, Monica returned to her place on top of him, easing herself down onto his rock hardlength. John placed his hands just above her hips as they rocked back and forth in unison.

"God,Monica,” he rasped.

Bothwere aching for release after years of deprivation. Monica often relied on her personal massager as it wasn't realistic for her to have any semblance of normalcy while being undercover.  John had dated a few women since Monica, but all were short term. No one had been quite on the same wavelength with as Monica. She understood him through and through.

Monica moaned, throwing her head back as she came, not once, but twice. No one had been able to take her to the promised land quite like John did. Aside from their personal chemistry, the sex had always been amazing.

Soon, she felt him stiffen beneath her, gasping as he reached his own release. Falling to their  sides, they both heaved heavy breaths before John turned towards her.

While his refractory time was about twenty-five minutes, John wasn't done. Just looking at her made him realize how much he had missed her in the past several years. He struggled to get in the mood with the few short term relationships he had had and often suspected that's why they ended up being short term. None of those women were Monica Reyes. Beautiful and intelligent...amazingly sexy and great in bed. Just looking at her as she undressed had always gotten him rock hard. He turned to face her and surprised her by slipping his fingers into her wet folds, taking her by surprised as she let out a gasp.

He moved so that he was right above her and began to tease her already hardened nipples with his tongue.

"Christ...John..." she moaned.

God, did he love it when she said his name. "Say my name, Monica," he demanded.

"John...JOHN Jay Doggett.FUCK, don't you dare stop!" she cried.

His tongue danced along her nipples before moving down her navel. He pumped in and out of her before his tongue was just above her mound.

Clenching her hands around his arms, Monica felt John move lower and cried out as his tongue teased her clit. He held onto her slender legs as he positioned himself, andhis tongue slid into her.

Monica ran her hand through John's hair as she helplessly succumbed to him and came several more times.

Slowly, John felt himself begin to build up.

"I have this amazing shower," he breathed finally.

Monica sat up. "Oh really?"

"I promise you won't be disappointed."

John helped Monica off the bed as they made their way towards the master bathroom.

As John promised, it was immaculate with marble walls and multiple showerheads, perfect for two. Next to the shower was a large Jacuzzi.

"You've really outdone yourself here, John," she whispered.

He dimmed the lights to complete the ambiance for the occasion while Monica fumbled with the shower faucet.

John brushed his girth along her ass before he slipped himself in behind her, causing her to cry out in surprise. She had to admit she was impressed with his refractory timing, but he always was amazing in bed. Sex with John Doggett never disappointed.

Monica braced herself against the marble walls with her open palms as he pumped in and out of her.

"Fuucck....harder!" she cried.

John wrapped his hands around her waist for leverage. Being close to the same height had its advantages, he thought, as the shower water spilled over them both. He continued as he lathered up a sponge and ran it over her shoulders.

"Never leave again," he said, leaving no room for argument.

"Never," she said breathlessly. "You're going to have a hard time getting rid of me, John Doggett."

"Oh...and John?"

"Anything for you, Mon."

"We're getting a dog."

FIN