#dragged back into hell because his past haunts him he's always looking forward to protect whathe still cherishes after taking 1000s of live

[fiftypiercings]

I shouldn't be the only one who thinks orv and gintama are alike...

[wolfsbanesparks]

is there an original story that you would like to write or get writing it somday? if so would you share an excerpt??

I have had a few original stories I've entertained over the years. The one I'm most invested in is called The Devil in the Details. It's a paranormal mystery/cold case type of story. It's basically two stories in one set five years apart.

Basically the "present" follows a young man as he searches for clues as to what happened to his younger brother who went missing five years ago while.

The "past" follows that younger brother, a high school senior, as he uncovers secrets of the occult in their hometown that ultimately lead to his disappearance.

It's an interweaving plot where the younger brother's disappearance haunts the narrative and the reader is left to wonder who or what is responsible while picking up clues.

I've written a (very rough) 20-30k of the story and haven't even gotten into the meat of the story yet.

Excerpt under the cut

His father stared back at him slack-jawed and confused for a moment, the smell of the whiskey on his breath souring the air between them. 

“Your mother said you came by, I didn’t think she’d let you in the front door.” His voice was strangely hoarse, though he spoke clearly. He took a few steps forward and Issac was able to get a better look at his face. It was more lined and sagging than he expected. It was as if he had aged twice as fast as everyone else.

“She didn’t. I let myself in,” Issac straightened his posture as he spoke, trying to swallow the defensiveness that always came from talking with his parents. He realized he had a couple inches on his father, though they were likely close to the same height when the man wasn’t slouched and hunched over himself. 

All he got in response was a huff of what might have been laughter, though there didn’t seem to be any humor in it. 

“Did she tell you why I’m here?”

Samuel paused just staring at Issac for a moment before raising his glass to his lips. He downed what was left in one swig and stared into the now empty glass. He nodded his head before dragging his hand down his face. “Yes...yes she did” His voice cracked with emotion and Sirius thought for a moment that he was going to start crying. Instead he gently pushed past Sirius and headed towards his study.

Sirius followed him on instinct. “So are you going to help me? Or are you going to completely shut me out like mom did? Because I’m going to find out what happened with or without you”

Once in the study Samuel all but collapsed into his desk chair. He gave no indication he was going to respond or even that he had heard his son. He stared at his desk for a long time. Long enough for Issac's anger to begin to boil over.

“Well? Are you going to answer me or not?” Still no answer. “Dammit dad! I’m asking for your help! This would all be so much easier if you just cared enough to do something instead of just sitting on your ass and--”

“Don’t you dare say I don’t care enough!” Finally Sam looked at him. There were so many emotions swirling in his somewhat clouded eyes. Pain. Fury. Sorrow. 

“Then help me figure out what happened to my brother”

“I already know everything I need to know”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Samuel took a deep shuddering breath. He avoided Issac's eyes as he spoke. Instead his eyes drifted to a photograph on his desk. Issac wondered briefly if it was a photo of Noah or if that was too much of a cliche for his father.

“He’s gone and we’ll never see him again. Not in this life...Not even in the next one I imagine.” Before Issac could protest his vague and unsettling answer Samuel continued. “He’s gone because he was good, so good, and I wasn’t. I couldn’t protect my own family from the monsters in my closet. I was a coward who thought he could outsmart the goddamn devil himself and Noah paid for that mistake” His voice broke again and this time a few tears did spill out of the corners of his eyes. “This hell is so much worse than the one imagined being dragged to and that bastard probably knew it”

“Are...Are you saying you know who took him? Who killed him?” The icy chill of realization brought bile into his throat at the mere thought. “What the fuck did you do?! Who was it?!”

“He doesn’t have a name, at least not one I ever knew” 

“Well give me a description, a location--something! You can’t just say cryptic shit like that and expect me to leave it alone!”

“Please Issac, nothing good will come from you knowing more.”

“TELL ME!” 

“I made a mistake, years ago, before either of you boys were even born. If I had known that this would be the price I never would have agreed!”

“Why can’t you give me a straightforward answer? Or some details that might actually help!”

“Because knowing the details will get you killed just like it got him killed!” Orion was breathing heavily, tears streamed down his face, making him look red and blotchy. “The two of you are so alike that way. You keep digging and digging, looking for a truth that is going to hurt far worse than not knowing ever could. I lost everything because I couldn’t stop him from learning the truth. I will not make that same mistake with you.”

“This isn’t over”

“I know”

“You can’t stop me. I have a right to know”

“I think it’s best you leave Issac, before your mother gets home”

[tetsvya]

❛ scaredy cat! ❜

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷   tendou drags you to a haunted house along with the rest of the shiratorizawa volleyball club, “forgetting” just how much of a scaredy-cat you could be!

➼ pairing! shiratorizawa vbc x manager!reader, a smidge of ushijima x reader bc i simply can't hold myself back when it comes to that man

➼ warnings! cursing, spooky houses, reader gets really freaked out, mention of fake blood

➼ type! humor, a little fluff and a little spooky, reader is in their third year, takes place in october

➼ author’s note! 2/3 of my halloween fics. please keep in mind that this is the first time i’m posting on here and first time i’m writing for hq, so i apologize beforehand if there are any mistakes or the characters seem ooc. anyways, happy halloween! have fun and stay safe. enjoy this little treat! <3

"Isn't this so exciting!" Tendou squeals in delight, and you immediately want to shake your head in response, because no, this was quite far from exciting. Coach had finally given you guys a very much needed day off, and while you had wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and watch Halloween movies all day, your oh so lovely friend had other plans.

Only a mere hour ago, halfway through your second film, Tendou had barged right into your dorm room, and quite literally pulled you out of bed before shoving you into your closet, holding it closed until you agreed to go with them. He refused to tell you who them was or where you guys were meant to be going, insisting that it was a surprise. And after ten minutes of arguing with the boy through the wooden door separating the two of you, you were rendered with no choice but to give in, agreeing to go. Tendou had released you with a victorious smile, but it was wiped away when you had tackled him as soon as his face came into view.

Alas, that's how you found yourself standing with the starting lineup of the Shiratorizawa Volleyball team, in front of a rickety old home that looked like it had been standing since the beginning of time. To make matters worse, it was covered in spooky decorations inside and out, and it was crawling with actors from the community theatre dressed up as all sorts of scary beings.

No, you thought once more, this was far from exciting.

But the lack of disagreement from the rest of the team had you keeping your mouth sealed shut. You'd be damned if you let them know just how terrified you actually were. They'd never let you live it down.

Your fingers twitched at your side, however, and you clamped down on your bottom lip as that unwelcome feeling of uneasiness began to fester in your tummy. Frowning, you found yourself really wishing you were back in your dorm room, where it was safe and warm. Semi, who had been standing beside you, glanced at you from the corner of his eye, taking note of your tense form.

"Are you all right, Y/N?" All eyes turned to you at the boy's words, and you mentally cursed at yourself for being such an open book.

"Yeah,” You forced a smile, nodding as you tried to reassure not only them, but yourself as well, "Just not the biggest fan of haunted houses."

"Don't worry, Y/N!" The only first year of the group chirped, bringing all eyes to him. Goshiki smiled reassuringly, chest puffing out as he held his thumbs up, "I'll protect you!”

You couldn't help the way your lips curled up in endearment as you stared at the younger boy, "Thank you, Goshiki."

It seems you had given the boy your gratitude far too early. The moment the group of you had stepped through the threshold of the home, which was so dark you could hardly even see the back of the person in front of you, an actor dressed as a bloody doll popped up in front of you guys, effectively stealing a squeal of fright from both you and Goshiki, who clutched tightly onto the person beside him, which just so happened to be Shirabu. The second-year scoffed, prying the younger boy's fingers off of him before muttering something to himself. Goshiki shot him a look of utter betrayal, and while the youngest of the group had been occupied, another actor dressed as a freaky clown took it upon them to creep up behind the boy. Another yelp of surprise slipped past Goshiki's lips as he leapt away from them, holding onto Reon's arm this time around. Reon paid it no mind, only offering the boy a reassuring smile as he let him cling to him.

So much for your knight in shining armor, you thought to yourself, but you couldn't help the smile that made its way onto your face. However, it was very short-lived as another actor popped up out of nowhere, getting far too close to your face for your liking. You shrieked once again, stumbling back and bumping into Tendou. Said boy burst into a bout of laughter, throwing his arm over your shoulder, "My, my, y/n-chan! I forgot how much of a scaredy-cat you w—, ow!"

The boy howled, dramatic as always, as you jutted your elbow lightly into his side, pushing him away from you. You sent him a scathing glare before turning away from him, nose raised. Because you knew Tendou, and you knew that he most definitely did not forget how jumpy you could be. He had used that information against you ever since he had found out about it, which was back in your second year, when he had forced you and Ushijima to play some horror game with him.

Ignoring Tendou's "apologies," you jogged ahead, falling into step with Semi. Said boy glanced down at you, a teasing smile playing at his lips, "Scared?"

You huffed, avoiding his eyes as you turned your head away from him, your cheeks growing warm in the process. His laugh filled the air, and you felt him nudge you in the arm gently. You turned back to him, and he offered a small smile, "You can hold on to me if you get scared."

You smiled at him, "Thanks, Semi."

He only shrugged in response, and when an actor jumped out at you once more a few moments later, you had no problem taking him up on his proposition. He teased you every time you squeezed onto his arm tighter, but his presence did reassure you a little bit. The dark lights of the house made it hard to see clearly, so holding onto someone made you feel much better.

You guys continued to stumble through the old house, jumpscares at every turn, effectively spooking the lot of you again and again. The only one who had yet to be spooked in even the slightest was Ushijima. Albeit, it had been pretty hard to frighten Tendou as well, but when an actor had finally managed to catch him off guard, he let out a petrified shriek followed by a cackle of delight. He truly was something else.

Eventually, you guys came upon the hall of mirrors. Reluctantly, you let go of Semi's arm as the narrow space only allowed room for one person at a time. You and Semi were the last to enter, you trailing in after behind the boy. You held your hands out, feeling the space before you in fear of bumping straight into a mirror. You began to think that this part wasn't as bad as the rest of the house, as nothing had yet creeped out at you, but that thought was quickly diminished as soon as an actor popped out from seemingly nowhere, right in front of you. A yelp slipped past your lips and you stumbled back. The person crept closer to you, cackling as you shut your eyes in fear.

Oh, You were so going to murder Tendou.

After a few moments of silence, you slowly peeked an eye open, a sigh of relief slipping past your lips when you realized you were alone. Wait. Fear gripped at your heart once more as you realized that you were alone. Semi was no longer ahead of you, and no one else from the Volleyball Club was in sight. Your eyes widened and your breath hitched. This was not good. You rushed forward, hopelessly stumbling through the exhibit, bumping into a mirror every now and then. Nothing else popped out at you, but that didn't stop the rapid beating of your heart. You were absolutely terrified now that you no longer had the comforting presence of anyone besides you. Hell, you'd even choose to have Tendou with you if it meant that you didn't have to be by yourself. You had no luck in finding any of the boys, but you did eventually make your way out of the hall of mirrors. You found yourself back in a dark hall like the ones from before, and reached into your back pocket to pull out your phone.

You unlocked it with shaking hands, and quickly dialed Tendou's number, bringing the phone up to your ear as you huddled into a corner, eyes peeled for anything lurking in the dark.

"I'm sorry, but your connection isn't—" You pulled the phone away from your ear, nearly crying at the little "no service" written on the top corner of your screen. You shut your phone off, siding it back into your pocket. Heaving out a sigh, you shut your eyes momentarily.

Okay y/n, calm down. Breathe. Take a second. You coaxed yourself, trying to get yourself to relax. This went on for a minute or two, and when you felt like you could finally breathe again, you opened your eyes once more, releasing a breath. You swallowed the lump in your throat, relaxing your fingers from the curled up ball they were in previously. Okay, you can do this. You can find your way out.

You nodded to yourself, letting out another breath as you continued on. It went okay for a few minutes. No one else jumped out at you, and there were only a few scares here and there but nothing too bad. Once again, you spoke far too soon. Just as you turned a corner, an actor appeared right before you. A squeal slipped past your lips, and you stumbled back as the actor crept closer to you. You knew it was fake, but that did nothing to help calm your fear. They lunged at you, and another yelp slipped past your lips as you blindly took another step backward. Your back slammed into a hard surface this time. The surface was warm, and rose up and down steadily, and you realized with a sinking feeling that it was in fact not a wall, but a person. You tensed up, instantly fearing the worse. What if it was another creepy actor? You were afraid you'd faint if it was.

"Y/N," The deep voice that came from the person had some of the tension seeping from your body as a sigh slipped past your lips, "It's me."

You steeled your eyes shut, before slowly turning on your heel. When you were facing the person, you slowly peeked an eye open, before both of them flew open at the sight of the boy before you. You had known it was him just by his voice alone, but you had been silently praying that it hadn't been. But no, it was most definitely Ushijima who stared down at you with an impassive stare.

"I'm so sorry!" You all but shouted when you noticed just how close you were standing to the ace, scrambling away from him, only to jump forward once more when another actor inched closer to you. Could they not give you a second to breathe?

"There's no reason to be sorry" Ushijima stated simply, peering down at you.

Not wanting to embarrass yourself any further, you gave a stiff nod. You took a moment to survey the area, and it was then that you noticed the lack of the other boys, "Where's everyone else?

"We didn't realize you were missing until we made it to the end" Your lips turned down at his blunt words, wondering how they could have possibly gone all that time without noticing your absence. You've been alone for nearly twenty minutes now! Ushijima didn't seem to pick up on your sour mood, however, continuing on with his explanation of why it was only him that was standing before you, "The others were too scared to come back in, so I volunteered."

Your lips parted in disbelief at his words, your hands curling into fists at your side. What a bunch of as—

"Are you all right, Y/N?" Ushijima asked, and you caught the slightest shift of his eyebrow raising upward.

However, before you could even get the chance to respond and tell the boy how far from all right you were, another actor popped out from around the corner, screeching at the two of you. Your breath hitched, and you inched closer to Ushijima as the actor did the same to you.

Ushijima only blinked at the actor, before turning to glance back down at you. While he may not have been the most emotionally intelligent guy out there, it was quite clear to him that you were terrified. His lips turned down just the slightest, and he called out your name. You peeled your eyes away from the creepy doll-like figure, wide eyes landing on Ushijima, "Are you ready to go on?"

You nodded frantically, wanting nothing more than to be out of this terrifying house. The boy took the first step forward, and you followed timidly, wide eyes scanning the area for anything creeping in the dark. Ushijima expertly weaved his way through the home, seemingly relaxed as ever as he didn't so much as even flinch when something popped out at the two of you. You, however, were practically shaking as you subconsciously inched closer and closer to the boy. While you guys didn't speak with one another, Ushijima always a man of few words, his presence was enough to soothe your nerves, even if it was just by a little bit.

It didn't take long for Ushijima to notice the gap between the two of you gradually growing smaller and smaller. The boy may not have been the best at picking up social clues, but after knowing you for as long as he did, he could practically read you like an open book. He knew your close proximity to him wasn't exactly intentional, it just happened with how many times you took instinctive steps closer to him out of fear. He wanted to help you, but he didn't really know how. He thought back and recalled the way that you had clung onto Semi before.

He called your name suddenly, and you were once again looking up at him with wide eyes. He came to a stop, prompting you to do the same before he held his arm out to you. You blinked at the outstretched limb before meeting his eyes once more, tilting your head to the side in confusion, "I'm not sure I understand. Did you hurt your arm?"

"No" He responded, thrusting his arm out a little more, "You're scared, are you not?"

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you awkwardly scratched at the back of your neck, "Is it that obvious?"

"Yes," He answered bluntly, before gesturing to his arm once more, "You can hold onto my arm if you'd like."

Your eyes grew even wider at that, lips parting in shock as you stared at the ace. You blinked at him, and when you went to reply, you found yourself stumbling over your words, "I—, you—, w—"

"You do not have to, if you do not want t—"

"No!" You all but shouted, mentally cringing as you caught the subtle way Ushijima’s eyes widened just the slightest. Coughing to recollect yourself, you offered Ushijima a soft smile as you gently wrapped your fingers around the soft fabric of his Shiratorizowa sports jacket, "Thank you, Wakatoshi-Kun."

"There's no need to thank me" He answered curtly, quickly glancing away so you wouldn't see the slightest tint of red that began to coat his cheeks, "Let's go, the others must be getting tired of waiting."

You nodded, even though he couldn't exactly see it, before taking a step closer to him. The two of you began to walk once more, but now that you were clinging onto Ushijima's arm, you felt much safer. You still flinched every now and then, your grip on Ushijima's arm turning a little tighter each time something jumped out of you before softening once more but unlike Semi, Ushijima said nothing about it. Eventually, you caught sight of the light at the end of the tunnel, quite literally. Your eyes widened in relief as you caught sight of the exit, speeding up as you practically dragged Ushijima alongside you. A weight was lifted off your shoulders as soon as you stepped out of the home. Your eyes quickly landed on your group of boys standing a few feet away, seemingly waiting for the two of you, and you hastily began to make your way over to them.

"Wakatoshi-Kun!" Tendou gasped when he caught sight of the two of you approaching the small group. Whatever he had planned to say before was thrown out of the window when he caught sight of the hold you still had on the captain, a teasing smirk pulling up the corner of his lips as he looked at his best friend, "You sly dog! No wonder you volunteered to go save our sweet manager-chan!"

"I don't understand what you mean" Ushijima spoke, the slightest furrow of his brows displaying his confusion.

"Well, you obviously—, yeow!" The boy yelped as you slapped his arm, narrowing his eyes at you as he pouted, "Why are you so rough with me, y/n-chan!"

Your eyes hardened at his words, and you went to raise your hand once more, but the boy let out a yelp, scampering behind Semi. He clutched onto the boy's shoulders, peeking his head out from behind him, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Just stop hitting me!"

You huffed in response, turning away from him as you crossed your arms. Sensing your unhappy mood, Reon took a timid step towards you, "Are you all right, Y/N?"

"No, I'm not!" You answered, lips turning down into a pout as you turned to face the boys once more, "I can't believe you guys didn't even realize that I was missing for nearly twenty minutes, and when you guys finally did realize, only Ushijima went back in to find me!"

Said boy stood silently beside you, peering at the others. Both Reon and Semi frowned at you, guilt eating away at them. Goshiki looked to be close to tears, as he had wanted to go back in and look for you, but he himself was too scared to do so. Yamagata stood to the right of him, gently patting the younger boy's back while outwardly avoiding your gaze. Hell, even Kawanishi and Shirabu looked sorry. They had all witnessed how scared you had been even when you were surrounded by all of them, so they could only imagine how terrified you must have felt while you were on your own.

"We're sorry" The boys spoke simultaneously, a sheepish smile on their faces as they looked at you.

You sighed heavily, dropping your crossed arms as you waved your hand through the air, a look of indifference replacing your previous pout. You could never stay mad at the boys for long, "It's alright. But I do expect you guys to make it up to me."

So when you found yourself in a little cafe not too far from the haunted house, a warm mug of hot chocolate cradled in your hands, topped with whipped cream and a platter of cute pumpkin-shaped cookies sitting before you, courtesy of your favorite boys, the animated voices of the team filling up the tiny booth you guys were crammed in and Ushijima's warmth from where he sat beside you bathing you in serenity, you couldn't find it in you to be mad at Tendou for crashing your plans any longer. Because while you could have movie marathons whenever you pleased, your time to make memories with your favorite people was slowly running out, and you'd rather take every opportunity you could to be with them than regret not doing so later on down the road. So yes, you supposed that today had been exciting, and while you would never admit it to Tendou, it was a day you'd never forget.

other halloween fics:

pumpkin guts war - karasuno

what’s new, scooby doo? - aoba johsai

[jobrookekarev]

One Step Forward and Three Steps Back

Chapter One of Six

Words: 2783

Summary: Jo wants to marry Alex more than anything, there’s just a few hoops she has to jump through before she can make that a reality. When she finally takes the plunge to free herself from her past, it all comes back to haunt her.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson, Jo Wilson/Paul Stadler (Past). 

Characters: Alex Karev, Jo Wilson, Stephanie Edwards, and Paul Stadler.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences, 

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Assault, Drinking, Alcohol, Divorce.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: Updates Bi-weekly 

……………………………………………………………………

“Let's make a baby,” Jo said as she walked over to him, offering up everything she had to him. 

“What?” Alex paused, truly looking over at her for the first time since he came into the loft.

“You said that you wanted a baby, and you would make an amazing dad,” Jo said, she knew that this was what he'd wanted for years now, and if that's what he wanted, she could be ready. “And that's what you're worried about, right, that I'm not all in? But I am. And I love you.”

The second her fingers touched his cheek, he pulled away. It was something he had never done before. All the times they had fought before, he had never pulled away from her touch, and him doing so now truly scared her.

“Are you gonna tell me why you won't marry me?” Alex asked again, staring deep into her eyes as if he could read the answer in her face. 

“I told you that I love you,” Jo said, but when she wouldn't answer him, he just turned away and went back to packing his things. “And that I'm not going anywhere. So isn't that enough? Can't that be enough for you?” 

“You know, I was with Mer this morning, and I was thinking, the two of us, we've been through hell. You know, all kinds of drama, crazy family stuff, we both almost died, losing people we love.” 

“No, you're not losing me,” Jo interrupted him, she wanted him to know that he wasn't going to lose her, and she didn't want to lose him.

“The point is, we grew up. Mer and I are grown up,” Alex said, turning around to look back at her. “We got through it. And hell is behind me. It's in my rearview mirror, and I'm not going back. I'm done.” 

“Alex, please,” Jo begged him, the last two words rang in her ear and broke her heart in an instant, but she held back the tears. It wasn’t the end, it couldn’t be.  

“I'm not, I'm not, some idiot kid anymore, Jo. I'm a man, and I'm done with games. I'm done with, with crazy. I'm done with losing. I'm done with drama. I don't care about your secrets and your excuses and your drama. You know, I've had that,” Alex said, and he was right. He shouldn't have to put up with her drama and her secrets, and she wished she could spare him from it all and tell the truth, but she just couldn't.

“Alex, if we could just,” Jo pleaded with him one last time.

“I just said I don't want to do this!” Alex screamed, as he raised his voice, she grew quiet. “I, I have never had one second of anything real my entire life. I want truth. I want, I want a wife and a house and a family! Amelia and, uh, Owen's wedding today, I want that!”  

“I can give you family and a home,” Jo pleaded, trying to get Alex to say. 

“But you won't be my wife?” Alex yelled as he stopped throwing the rest of his clothes in his bag to look at her. 

They had fought before, but not like this. He was so angry, but Jo wasn't frightened of him. She was, however, frightened to tell him the truth. She knew he deserved the truth, but she couldn't give it to him. Jo knew what Alex would do to Paul when he found out. She knew because she saw how mad he got when she had shown up on his doorstep after her fight with Myers. She knew that if Paul even looked at her wrong or dared to lay a finger on her, Alex would kill him and she couldn't live with herself if she caused that.

“I, I can't,” Jo whispered, her words coming out in a painful breath. 

She wanted to explain or at least give him a part of the truth. A part of her was protecting him from his own anger, but another part of her had held the secret for so long and, every time she tried to say it, it was like the words were trapped in her head.

Alex looked so disappointed as he shook his head before he grabbed his bags and left. It broke her, it broke her to see Alex walk away like that. Jo sat down on the bench, held the pillow to her chest as she cried. After everything she had done to get away from Paul, changing her name, leaving behind all of her friends, including the boy who is like a brother to her, and starting over in Seattle. He was still ruining her life and her relationship with Alex. 

She had thought about divorcing Paul for the past few months, ever since Alex proposed. She had contacted the lawyer that Arizona had used for her divorce case. Michelle had shown Jo her options and it all seemed easier than Jo realized. She had also dug up Jo’s medical history from her time with Paul. With the clear evidence of domestic abuse, Michelle said she could help Jo get an emergency protective order. It would go into effect right away, and then a domestic violence restraining order would protect her during the divorce proceedings and for the rest of her life. Michelle said that because of their separate lives, it would be an easy divorce. She had drafted the papers and sent them over to her, all they had to do was sign them. 

Jo didn't know if Paul would make this easy and sign the papers, or if he would drag it out for years, but she wanted to try. She tried to tell herself that with the restraining order and a lawyer on her side, she could do it. Jo wanted Alex to be by her side, but now Alex was gone, and he would be gone for good if she didn't divorce Paul. 

She went over to the liquor cabinet. Jo grabbed the bottle of the hardest rum they had and took a swig. It burned her throat as she drank it and Jo took as much as she could before she put the bottle down. If she was going to do this, she needed as much liquid courage as she could get. 

Jo made up her mind. She was going to divorce Paul.

She pulled out her phone and called Michelle. Michelle set up an appointment to meet with her the following day and said she would get the ball rolling. She would file the emergency restraining order and finalize the divorce papers that had been sitting in her drawer for months. Michelle assured her that she would have a restraining order against Paul at the end of the day and that she would be protected. Jo thanked her and quickly hung up. 

Jo had always kept tabs on Paul just in case. Which was good because she knew that he was in Seattle giving a talk at the University of Washington. The past few days, she had felt trapped in the loft because of it, as she feared he would see her when she was out and about or at the hospital, but now she could divorce him before the weekend was over and Alex would never know. Then she could say yes and marry Alex. They would be happy and Alex would never know. Paul would never ruin his life because of her. 

Jo took a deep breath as she looked down at her phone. She was drunk enough to think that this was a good idea and before she knew what she was doing, she had dialed Paul's number. But, of course, he didn't pick up, Paul didn't pick up any strange numbers. Hearing his voicemail was enough to send shivers down her spine, but the liquid courage had given her enough strength to speak and leave him a message. 

“Paul, it's me, it's Brooke. I want a divorce. I'm leaving you for good. I found another man and he's wonderful. He's better than you ever were and I want to marry him. So I want a divorce. I'm in Seattle. I work at Grey-Sloan Memorial and I live here. I live at 4196 Cale St. I know you're giving some stupid talk at U-Dub, and I’m sending you the divorce papers, and you are going to sign them. Because you ruined my life enough and you don't get to ruin it any more.”

Jo hung up and she smiled. It was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders and she felt free, freer than when she was driving away from him all those years ago. Finally, she felt truly free. 

Then Jo looked around the empty loft. Alex wasn't there, he had left, and she was all alone. Jo sighed, taking another swig of the bottle. Then she texted Stephanie to meet her at Emerald City Bar. Jo needed her friend and there was no way she could spend the rest of this day sober. 

……………………………………………………………………

“Hey, what are we drinking about?” Stephanie asked, appearing at the bar and sitting next to Jo.

“Alex is gone,” Jo said as she leaned against the bar. She was genuinely drunk now and was suddenly second guessing everything that she had done. “I had the love of my life, and I just, pssh, pushed him away, and now he's gone. And I’m doing it, I’m finally doing it, but I already lost Alex, he's gone.”

“Okay, this again,” Stephanie said as she took a swig of the beer the bartender gave her. “Let's not overstate this. He's just living at Meredith's.”

“Steph, you didn't see his face. He’s gone,” Jo said, looking over Stephanie and seeing her face, Jo suddenly realized what she had said. “Oh, God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. He's not gone-gone. Kyle is gone-gone.”

“Making it worse,” Stephanie said as Jo leaned over to put her arm around Stephanie and lean her hand on her shoulder.

Stephanie shook her off and Jo decided to shut up before more words fell out of her mouth. In her endeavor to divorce Paul, it was like all her walls had finally come down. The truth slipped from her tongue like a bar of soap between her fingers. 

“He just kept asking me to marry him again and again,” Jo said as she picked at the peanut shells on the bar and tried to throw them into the bowl. “I just couldn't say nothing anymore, you know, so I just, I just said no.” 

“You could've said yes,” Stephanie said, taking a sip of her drink and shaking her head as if it was as easy as that.

“I should go home. I need to go home,” Jo said, reaching for the bag next to her and getting out. 

“What? No, you cannot drive home,” Stephanie said, getting up and chasing after her. She tried to grab the bag as Jo turned away from her.

“No, stupid, I'm gonna call. I'm looking for my phone to call a goober,” Jo said, looking through the bag and trying to find her phone. “I can't marry him. I want to, but I can't marry anyone.”

“Why's that?” Stephanie asked in her rude and sarcastic voice what made Jo realize what she had said.

“Just 'cause, none of your business,” Jo yelled, looking back at her.

“Okay,” Stephanie said, holding up her hands and leaning back.

“God, where is my. Oh, my God!” Jo paused, and she looked down at the strange purse in her hands. “This isn't even my purse.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes and took the purse from Jo's hands, replacing it with Jo's own bag. “Here, just wait, and I'll call us a cab and you can tell me all about why you can't marry Karev.”

“I can't marry him because I'm already married,” Jo said, the words slipping off her tongue. She guessed she was done hiding the truth.

……………………………………………………………………

“Okay, you can't just drop a bomb on me like that and then not say anything else,” Stephanie said as they walked into the loft, and Jo stumbled over to the couch before she caught Jo around her waist and led her over to the bed. “Okay, come on, time for bed.”

Stephanie left her on the bed and went to grab a cup of water. This was the last thing she wanted it to be doing, but Jo was her best friend, and they were both going through it right now. Cleary Jo had some deep dark secrets and Stephanie would be lying if she said she wasn’t immensely curious about it.

“I was living in my car. Did you know that I lived in my car?” Jo said, stumbling over, reaching out to put her hand on the table. It seemed Stephanie couldn't leave her for a second and she reached out to grab Jo again. 

“Yes, I know all about your street kid days,” Stephanie said, trying to grab ahold of her, but Jo pushed her away, and she was surprisingly strong for a drunk girl.

“And then I met him, and I wasn't living in my car anymore. Everybody loved him, I did,” Jo said, undoing the button to her jeans and pulling them down her legs.

“What are you doing?” Stephanie said, putting her hands on her waist and glaring at Jo. Everybody always joked about how drunk people acted like toddlers and Jo was certainly acting like a toddler right now. 

“I'm gonna go, I'm gonna go to bed,” Jo said as she stumbled over to the bed before apparently changing her mind and leaning against the post. “He never wanted anyone to stop loving him.”

Stephanie paused and sat down on the bench at the end of the bed, watching Jo for a moment. Jo had never mentioned anything about past boyfriends, much less a husband. She watched as the tears collected in Jo's eyes as she started to sob and she could sense why Jo had never mentioned him before.

“So if I, I bought the wrong something he would, he would hit me in my face or my stomach. Nobody knew that but me. So, so I ran. I had to make sure he would never find me.”

“And if you try to divorce him,” Stephanie trailed off, still trying to take in the news of Jo's abusive husband.

“I'm trying to divorce him, but he’ll never sign the papers, I'll never be free of him,” Jo said, putting both of her hands on Stephanie's shoulders and staring into her eyes. 

“Can’t you get a restraining order or something?” Stephanie asked, watching Jo pull away from her. “Does Alex know about any of this?” 

“No, no, Alex would try and protect me, but he can't. I have to do this on my own. He doesn't even know my real name,” Jo said as she stumbled over to the bed.

“You should tell him, he'll understand. Alex is a really good guy. Okay, so we're going to get naked now,” Stephanie sighed as Jo unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall to the floor. “Just keep your panties on, okay.”

Jo didn't say anything else as Stephanie grabbed onto her waist and pulled her over to the bed. They both ended up stumbling and falling on the bed together and Jo laughed as if it was the funniest thing in the world. Stephanie rolled her eyes and got up to grab the covers. As she looked up, Alex was standing in front of her in a rain soaked suit. 

“What's so funny? Alex asked as he smiled and came around to sit next to Jo on the bed.

“We fell,” Jo laughed, closing her eyes and pulling the covers over her head, still giggling from underneath them.

Alex looked up at her with a raised eyebrow and Stephanie just shrugged. “She's drunk off her ass.”

Alex nodded and put his hand over Jo's back, rubbing up and down as her giggles ended and she seemed to settle in. Stephanie got up and grabbed Jo's shirt from the floor before grabbing her jeans, tossing them both in the hamper.

“You came back,” Stephanie said, looking back at Alex.

“Yeah, well, Jo’s earned the benefit of the doubt, and whatever reason she has for not marrying me, I love her too much to let her go.”

Stephanie nodded, she didn't want to spill Jo’s secret, especially now that Alex was back, but she didn't want him to leave Jo again. She saw how messed up Jo was all night and Alex wasn't even dead. Stephanie loved her friend enough not to want to put her through that again. 

“She has a good reason for not marrying you. I won't tell you what it is, that's her job, but it's a good reason, and she’s trying to make it right,” Stephanie said as she folded her hands together.

“Thank you,” Alex said, nodding at her before he looked back at Jo and leaned down to kiss a little bit of her head that was still peeking out from under the covers. 

Stephanie wobbled as she took another step towards the door, realizing how drunk she was now that she didn't have Jo’s drunkenness to compare her sobriety to. 

“Do you want to crash here?” Alex offered, taking off his wet jacket and tie. “I'm going to hop in the shower, but I'll take the couch if you want to take the bed.”

“Sure,” Stephanie said, dropping her purse and kicking off her shoes.

She had slept over at the loft enough times with Jo that this was normal. They would have a girl's night and fall asleep on the bed, and Alex would come in and sleep on the couch. In the morning, he’d make them a hangover cure and waffles and Stephanie loved those waffles. Alex hung up his wet suit and went to take a shower and Stephanie crawled into bed. Jo would still giggle occasionally, but eventually, they both fell asleep.

……………………………………………………………………

Jo woke up to the sound of someone banging on the door to the loft. She rolled over to lay on her back and saw Stephanie sleeping soundly beside her. Her best friend had always slept like a log and she would sleep through her alarm if she was tired enough. Jo got up before she went to the hamper and pulled on her shirt. 

“Alright, Alex I’m coming,” Jo said as the banging continued, despite how late it was she figured Alex had forgotten something. She unlocked the door and pulled it open, but Alex wasn't standing on the other side. 

“Hello, Brooke.”

[honourablejester]

Zealot Barbarian Concept: Warrior Preacher

Okay, so, barbarians are my favourite of the martial classes, mostly because two things: toughness and rage. Thematically, I adore that well of savage fury that all barbarians have. And the two subclasses that immediately catch my eye with barbarians, possibly to no one’s surprise, are Ancestral and Zealot. Because ghosts and gods. I’ve talked before about how cool I find Ancestral Barbarians, the idea of the noble bloodstained scion literally haunted by their vile, heckling ancestors. Here, though, I wanted to talk about Zealots.

There’s one line in the description for the Zealot’s ‘Warrior of the Gods’ feature: ‘Your soul is marked for endless battle.’ It’s the explanation for why zealots are so easy to raise from the dead, why they’re so hard to put down in the first place. Some god, some deity of war, has marked them out to just keep fighting, even beyond death. When they die, they just get back up again, and keep fighting.

Thematically that’s just gorgeous. Because there’s so much … Is this a blessing? A constant Valhalla to soothe the rage in their soul? Or a curse? A divine mission that not even in death are you allowed to lay down? That’s toothy. Savage and tearing and raw. I love it.

‘Your soul is marked for endless battle’. Did you agree to that? Did you have a choice? Do you embrace it joyfully, in the surety of a warrior’s heaven? Or do you shoulder it as a mission and a sacrifice, to bear the horrors of war so that other people don’t have to?

I like the former. One of the reasons I love the idea of Warhammer 40K orcs is this idea, that all of chaos can throw the worst horrors in the universe at them and they just scream in giddy delight at the chance to make battle with awesome horrors. The Nac Mac Feegle in Discworld, where the deepest hell would be their idea of heaven, because look at all the targets. Endless, joyful war, and nothing you can do to them can dent their raw enjoyment. It makes for a deliciously fun and durable character.

But. But I also like the other angle. And it also kind of bumps into another character archetype I like, from a slightly different genre: the western’s warrior preacher.

The thing is, preachers in westerns often have a bit of a dark past. They’re ex-charlatans, or current charlatans, or fire-and-brimstone rabble-rousers, or philosophical warriors struggling with the duality of the gun and the cross. Josiah Sanchez in Magnificent Seven. And I love that too. Combine that with a war god. With a call to the fight that not even death will let you escape.

So. A character to play into the religious angle of the zealot barbarian. The Acolyte background, for a god of justice and protection of the innocent (I like Torm for this). A wandering preacher. Maybe a bit of the charlatan, in that maybe they weren’t originally the most devout, maybe they were mostly paying lip-service, until they have their Road to Damascus moment, a lightning strike of pure rage at injustice, and abruptly their deity starts paying rather more personal attention to them …

Character Sheet: Elias Walker

Name: Elias Walker

Race: Half-Elf

Age: 67

Background: Itinerant Preacher (Acolyte)

Class/Level: Barbarian 3 (Zealot)

Deity: Torm, the Loyal Fury

Statistics: Strength 16, Dexterity 14, Constitution 14, Intelligence 8, Wisdom 12, Charisma 12

Skills & Languages:

Skills: Athletics, Insight, Perception, Persuasion, Religion, Survival

Languages: Common, Elvish, Orcish, Undercommon, Celestial

Ideal: “Better one sacrifice for the protection of many, than allowing the death of all.”

Bond: “My soul was given unto the fires of war, so that better ones need not be.”

Flaw: “I’ve never believed in anything before, and the size of this calling, the depth of this rage, terrifies me a lot.”

Allies/Connections: The priesthood of Torm. Rosa & Luther, the married couple who nursed him back to health after that first death in their and his god’s service.

Traits, Feats and Background/Class Features: Darkvision (60ft), Fey Ancestry, Skill Versatility, Shelter of the Faithful, Rage, Unarmoured Defense, Danger Sense, Reckless Attack, Divine Fury, Warrior of the Gods

Equipment: Common clothes, vestments, halberd, 2 handaxes, 4 javelins, amulet of Torm’s holy symbol, prayer book, belt pouch, explorer’s pack

Description: A slim, almost cadaverous half-elf, with dark skin and golden eyes, bald except for greying stubble across his shaven scalp. His face seems fixed in a wry, gentle expression, but its harsh lines and the premature greying of his hair bely that somewhat. He wears dark grey vestments hung with an amulet of the Hand Resolute, and leans heavily on the halberd he seems to primarily use as a walking stick.

History: A shiftless, lackadaisical wanderer for almost all his life, with few contacts or connections anywhere, Elias eventually fell into the life of an itinerant preacher of Torm. Mostly, it must be said, for the sense of camaraderie and belonging it granted, not necessarily out of any true devotion. He was a lacklustre preacher at best, bordering on paying lip-service.

But then. In a little village on the far edge of civilisation, Elias happened to be present when a bandit warlord came to town, seeking wealth, slaughter and slaves. By luck or chance, in all his shiftless life, Elias had never seen butchery on that level before. Children slaughtered. People dragged screaming from their homes. He’d never seen the like. And it enraged him. It broke something in him, snapped some tether. His mind went blank, a perfect fugue state, and he did his savage damnedest to slaughter every bandit in range in defense of the town.

He didn't survive the effort. One skinny preacher against a bandit warband? Of course he didn’t survive. Elias Walker died that day. But in the embrace of death, the god he had always only ever paid lip service to finally came to him. Drawn by that shocking well of fury at injustice. Torm appeared, and asked him if that fury, that sacrifice in defense of the innocent, was a thing he offered willingly. If it could be something he offered up again, again and again, as many times as might be necessary. Even beyond death. And for some reason, though the thought of it terrified him … Elias said yes. Because some part of him was proud of what he’d done. And another … glad that it had been him, the useless layabout, who’d fought and died, and not someone better, some innocent who didn’t deserve that fate.

For Torm, that was good enough.

Elias woke up in a refugee camp, having been dragged from the burnt remnants of the village by the few survivors he’d died to save, when they realised that by some miracle he still seemed to be breathing. Two of them in particular, a married couple, had taken it upon themselves to nurse him back to health, out of gratitude for what he’d tried to do. They’d lost almost everything they had, neighbours and homes and friends, but they’d tried to help him anyway. Brought back into the world, given a mission so much bigger and more terrifying than anything he would have allowed before, Elias clung to that, and to them, for the courage to move forward.

[yanderereblog]

Yandere Dimitri - Reunion

um. um. well. this scenario replaces byleth with the reader–a time skip dimitri thats a little more unstable and with a professor thats a lot more emotional. it’s the reunion, but much more...happy? (dimitri has all the potential to be a yandere, so this was easy to write)

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-«« 

Dimitri vaguely sensed something amiss. He raised his head, feeling the rising sun beating down on it. His blurry gaze slowly found a silhouette. Expecting it to be his father or mother, he prepared himself for the yelling and hatred. Instead, his eye drew upwards to meet the one person he wished so badly was with him through all this hell.

It was his professor. It was you. It was his light. The one he always saw as the embodiment of hope. You walked forward, and he was covered in shadows as the light surrounded you like you were an angel. You reached out a hand. Dimitri finally lost the rest of his mind.

“I should’ve known…” Dimitri’s eye watered, “that one day, you would be haunting me as well.” He felt the lance next to him, and wondered if finding revenge was even worth it anymore. Should he just…quit?

“You…What must I do to be rid of you?” Dimitri watched the ghost fall to their knees, and waited for the harsh yelling and anger. Dimitri wouldn’t be able to handle your anger too. You had always been his light. If you hated him too, he would…he would…“I will kill that woman, I swear it. Do not look upon me with scorn in your eyes.”

But something strange happened.

“Dimitri, what are you talking about?” Dimitri’s mind snapped to attention, focusing on your words like they were his life source, “what happened these past five years? I’ve been trapped under rubble this whole time, why didn’t you come look for me? Did you think your professor would die just like that!?”

What? His blue eye almost vibrated at how quickly he scanned your face. You looked tired. You looked– “You…You’re alive!? I didn’t…under rubble…for five years?” Dimitri almost didn’t believe it, but looking at your smile was enough. The dead that haunted him never smiled. He kept his eye open, not caring that it stung. Dimitri believed that if he blinked you would disappear.

“Thank the goddess a villager managed to dig me up. It seems the goddess changed my body quite a bit for me to be asleep for five years, huh?” Dimitri’s hands twitched at his sides, the information searing itself into his brain. All alone. Just like he was. He watched you try to smile, but tears started falling from your eyes. Dimitri had never seen you cry.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you guys. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough. I wish I could go back. I wish I could–” Once everything finally settled in his mind that you were real, he no longer held back and pulled you into his arms, holding you as close to himself as possible, as though to hide you from the world.

“Dimitri?” He couldn’t stop shaking. For the first time in forever, he couldn’t hear the whisperings of the dead. He couldn’t hear his family members and friends screaming at him for revenge. Dimitri wondered if maybe his professor was actually some kind of god or goddess. To him, you represented the only good left in the world.

“Alive…you’re really…alive…” Dimitri’s voice wobbled, eye welling with tears. The warmth in his arms was all the proof he needed. He felt you shift around and instinctively pulled you closer into his embrace, panicking at the thought of you disappearing again. You were smaller, more fragile than he remembered. In fact, with his arms wrapped around you, his cape managed to completely hide your existence.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” He heard his professor’s muffled voice, and gave a self–deprecating smile.

“Am I?” He loosened his hold enough so you could face him, propping a knee up and keeping an arm around your head so you had something to lean against. Dimitri twitched at your sad gaze, not expecting the rush of happiness he felt when seeing it.

Professor is worried about me. Dimitri’s heart thud against his chest. Professor doesn’t hate me, they aren’t scared, they aren’t disgusted with me, they–Dimitri’s thoughts halted when a hand reached out and held his cheek. He froze completely, worried that if he moved you would draw away. Your thumb rubbed against his skin, wiping off the dried blood he never bothered to clean away.

The sun once again reflected off of your hair, an image of a halo forming above your head. Dimitri’s eye widened, but kept trained on his professors–YOU, he wasn’t a student anymore–face, committing every moment to memory. If this turned out to be a dream, he wanted to never wake again.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” You said. Dimitri moved his hand to wipe away the tear trailing down your cheek, but stopped. His gloves were dirty. Holding you like this…he was dirtying you. “I understand if you’re angry or even hate me because of it.” No, no. I could never hate you. Dimitri’s chest hurt every time you tried to force a smile. “I’m here now, though. And I won’t disappear again as long as I can help it.”

“Promise?” Dimitri almost lurched forward, voice not hiding his desperation and hope. He kept himself from shaking, his whole body tense. Instead of the playful smile and the ‘Of course’ he expected, there was hesitation.

“I can’t promise. I will do everything in my power to stay by your side, but if something happens and I can’t–” Dimitri knew what the end of that sentence would be, and his blood boiled even if he realized that you weren’t wrong.

“No.” Dimitri couldn’t control himself, once again squeezing you as close to himself as possible, one hand on your head and his other arm pulling you deeper into his embrace. “Promise me. I can’t lose you too. I can’t have anyone else die.” Dimitri’s voice cracked, the trembling back again. The warmth in his arms was too good to be true, and he knew he didn’t deserve any happiness after all he has done.

But, the world couldn’t just give you back to him and expect him to let you go. He was drowning in darkness and all he could do was cling onto the little light that was left.

“Dimitri…what happened?”

He looked down, meeting those shining green eyes full of concern and care. It had been five years since he last had someone look at him with any positive emotions. To explain what happened, he had to shut down. His gaze dulled as he let memories take over.

“The Empire managed to completely wipe out all opposing forces…”

…

…

…

…

“…and for years I’ve been here, fighting off the thieves crawling from the woodwork, attracted by the promise of treasure. Vile thieves run rampant. They pillage and loot to their heart’s content. I’ve protected the monastery, hoping maybe, one day, somebody would come back.” Dimitri finally returned from his memories, completely drained. Once again, the image of Dedue smiling at him, completely content to die, surfaced. “Dedue…” Dimitri grit his teeth, eye watering.

“Dimitri.”

He snapped out of his thoughts, moving his head to look down at you. He hadn’t looked at you throughout his recollection, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to finish if he saw your distraught, glimmering eyes.

“I…” You bit your lip. It seems whatever happened during those five years of solitude, asleep or not, had changed you. Dimitri noticed how much more emotive you were, and became even more concerned over your wellbeing. You were unsettled, weak, and obviously overwhelmed. On top of all of that, you had to hear the horrific reality that was the present.

“I don’t blame you.” Dimitri said and tried to smile in a comforting way, but it almost hurt his face. He hadn’t smiled in so long that it felt foreign. He truly didn’t blame you, though. Not then, and not now.

Somebody pushed you off the cliff. Trapped you there for five years. Only by sheer luck were you found and pulled out of the rubble. And–Dimitri acknowledged the truth though bittersweet–you immediately came to the monastery, worried for all of them. Not even caring for yourself.

Dimitri’s mind rounded back to the first point. Somebody pushed you. And he knew exactly who. The empire. Edelgard. Anger rushed through his brain, and his arms unintentionally tightened around you.

“I must kill them. Every last one.” Dimitri bit out, feeling his heart tug back down into the abyss of hatred and longing for revenge.

“Who?” Dimitri snapped out of his spiraling thoughts, looking again into those pure eyes, glimmering with confusion and concern. Again, he had the urge to smile. Knowing how powerful you were, they could go rally troops and start against the empire right away. Yet, somehow, something was off.

“The empire.” He said, but almost kept it to himself. The Sword of the Creator was there, and you probably still have the strength to wield it. Dimitri shouldn’t be worried at all, because with you, it would be easy to carry out revenge. But every time he thought about you in battle, the distorted image of you falling off a cliff and being buried under rubble stuck.

You may have only said a passing thought, ‘I’ve been trapped under rubble this whole time, why didn’t you come look for me?’, but to Dimitri you had looked so wronged. Like you had been waiting for him–awake–for those five years, wondering why he never saved you. In the end it was a random villager who was searching for ore that dragged you free.

They must have been terrified, Dimitri’s deluded brain supplied, stuck all alone in darkness waiting for me. Guilt started to erode his clarity. If he thought a little bit harder he would realize that all of his thoughts were ridiculous, and that you were more capable than anyone in the world. But his brain was muddled, and with you being the last bit of light in his life, it ignited his anxiety and protectiveness.

The isolation destroyed his brain, and even though the voices were quiet currently, the damage to his psyche was dreadful. Before Dimitri was captured, people began calling him a beast, either due to his strength or sudden animalistic tendencies because of the breaking of his mind. Those tendencies only became worse through isolation and constant bloodshed.

With the only good thing in the world in his arms, how could he even give somebody a chance to take it from him? No family, no friends, he had nobody at all left. And even if his past classmates returned, could they even bear looking at him? The monster that he was? Only because you were the embodiment of goodness and hope–his brain decided–you were so forgiving and kind.  

“…tri….mitri…dimitri. Dimitri. Hello? Are you okay?” Dimitri snapped back to reality, pulled away from his spiraling thoughts by that sweet voice. You raised a hand and rested it on his cheek, and he couldn’t help himself from leaning into it fully. “There you are. You keep getting lost in thought. Perhaps we should rest? There must be some beds in the monastery.” Dimitri’s eye lidded, and he nodded.

You stood up, and Dimitri immediately followed, noting how your head only reached his chest. He was so much bigger than you. I could just–Dimitri shook his head, grabbing his lance that was resting on the wall. You grabbed his other free hand without hesitation and began leading him inside, completely unaware of Dimitri’s rapidly beating heart and constricting pupil.

His face flushed a bright red; his bright blue eye was completely trained on their connected hands. Dimitri figured you didn’t notice how flustered he was or you would stop holding his hand. He wanted to calm down, but your hand was so much smaller than his. It was soft, and warm. He never wanted to let go.

Dimitri’s delusional mind kept adding to the list of divine qualities you had. The goddess must have finally realized the horrible things he had to go through and gave you to him as a gift. That meant you were his, right? He would never again be alone.

You, completely unaware of your former student’s warping thoughts, innocently guided him into the abandoned monastery, looking around for a good place to set up camp.

(if ya’ll want more, tell me. I can do other scenarios–even pre time skip or specific reactions to events)

[legoshi-plz]

Confession (Bill x Reader)

Summary: Bill has an obsession. Bully!Bill x Lynx! Reader.

Warnings: Cursing. Bullying. That’s about it.

A/N: This was a requested fic. I don’t really care for Bill’s character but this was extremely fun to write 😁

///////

You once again found yourself in detention. This was the third time this month, which had to be a new record for you. You angrily scrubbed the cafeteria tray as you seethed in hatred at a certain Bengal Tiger that landed you in here.

Bill and his goddamn personal vendetta against you that had haunted your life for the past 4 years now. The worse part was that you had done absolutely nothing to him to warrant such a grudge. One day he simply decided to hate you the same way he simply decided to make sure every day of your life was more difficult thanks to him.

It had all started in middle school. Actually the story dates back before middle school. It started when you were born.

You were a [Y/C] Lynx, a pretty rare form of bobcat. In actuality, all forms of Bobcats were rare in this city. But that never hindered you as a child nor made you feel different. You were happy and always smiling. People always told you how you had such a beautiful smile and eyes that were even more captivating.

“She’ll be quite the heartbreaker when she gets older,” your mother and her friends would joke all the time.

You had friends in abundance in elementary school and in middle school it seemed the trend would continue. Until you got your first boyfriend. He was an ordinary leopard, sweet as could be and always made you laugh. You were in heaven for all of maybe two weeks when Bill started his onslaught.

It started off as snickering behind your back. Then he began enlisting your so-called friends in his teasing. Bill was pretty popular given not only his status as a Tiger but also his ability to make girls swoon, even Herbivores, so it was all too easy for him to get your friends to turn against you. The two of you had classes together but you’d never said a word to him. It didn’t matter, he picked on you anyway.

He gradually moved on to spreading nasty rumors, writing cruel things in your notebook, and even tripping you up in the hallway. Even your friends who weren’t ensnared by his charm began to steer clear of you. Your then-boyfriend called it quits so that Bill would ease off of him as well. You started to feel incredibly dejected, going from having quite the outgoing personality to being withdrawn and quiet.

And that continued until high school. You put all your eggs in the basket that high school would be better. It had to be. You’d even gotten accepted into the highly coveted Drama club, a big step towards you getting over your shyness. You finally had something to look forward to in terms of school.

All that was crushed however, when Bill sauntered into the club’s Freshman orientation. You felt physically sick at the thought of being subjected to his torment for another three years.

At first it had started to be no big deal. You stayed out of his way and he pretended that you weren’t there. You made a couple of friends again and were even doing well in the club. As well as you could at least while trying your best to not be seen.

And the President of the club at the time (a senior Antelope that was the Cherrington Heartthrob) offered you a part in the upcoming play. It wasn’t a main role but it was considerable for a Freshman.

“T-there must be some sort of mistake,” you said quietly as the remainder of the group either gushed or groaned over the roles assigned to them.

“No mistake, you’re easily one of the prettiest girls in this Theater, maybe even in the school. I’d be an idiot not to give you the role of the ‘Fairest Maiden’,” he said casually as he walked away. You turned around to see Bill staring at you from across the room. He looked livid.

Bill never passed up on an opportunity to let you know how ugly you were, calling you a “hideous disgrace to the feline community.” For someone like you to play a part of beauty? It had to be a cruel joke.

And so that was the straw that broke the tigers back. Somehow, it was even worse than before, his contempt for you hidden behind his Nice Guy persona. Nobody would ever believe half the things he’d done or said to you, not that you would tell anybody. Wardrobe malfunctions (that just so happen be in the form of someone ripping your clothes to shreds), bumping past you and nearly knocking you down, trashing your locker, loosening the bolts on your desk/chair. Anything he could think of to make your life a living Hell, he did it.

Which brought you to your current situation. You were currently washing dishes in detention yet again because somebody had ripped the roses from every rose bush in the school’s courtyard, and haphazardly stuffed them in your desk so that everyone could see. Before you could even enter the classroom to witness Bill’s handywork in the flesh, you were called into the Principal’s office and sentenced to two weeks detention. Typical.

“Well, well, well what do we have here,” you knew that voice anywhere.

“What do you want, Bill?” You asked quietly, not bothering to turn around.

“You just can’t seem to stay out of trouble can you?” Yoy could hear the smirk in his voice but you were determined not to let him get you riled up so you remained silent.

He walked up besides you and slapped the tray you were currently washing out of your hands. The harshness of his actions caused you to gasp, frozen in place.

“I asked you a question,” he growled, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to face him. Now you were actually beginning to panic. It was already late in the evening and you were here all alone. Bill had never physically hit you before but there was a first time for everything.

“L-leave me alone, Bill,” you craned you neck to look up at his face, now glowing in anger and disgust. He was always so angry around you, as if your mere existence was an offense to his own.

“And what are you going to do if I don’t?” He barred his fangs at you and you felt your eyes go wide in horror. Would he really attack you? There was no one around or near enough to hear you scream. You were an idiot for thinking you were safe from any threats on campus just because you were a Carnivore. You should have been more cautious like a Herbivore and maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation.

“I... I... I can’t do anything about it,” you whimpered in defeat. His grip on your wrists tightened.

“Of course you can’t. Poor little Y/N, too weak to protect herself. Thinks all she has to do is bat those pretty little eyes and guys will come running. Well where are they now huh?” Bill roared and you felt tears well in your eyes.

“Bill, please stop,” you whined softly. Bill caught your gaze and held it for a long moment before you saw something in him finally snap.

“Fuck it,” Bill murmured to himself before latching his lips onto your own. You wanted to recoil immediately but you were once again frozen in place.

It seemed that his instincts took over because in a matter of seconds he had picked you up and placed you on the edge of the sink all without breaking the kiss. His hands went to your waist to pull you closer before he jerked back, pushing you away. He had a look of shock on his face as if you had slapped him.

He was panting, his eyes filled with horror at what he’d done. He immediately turned and fled without another word.

////////

The next few days almost didn’t feel real. It was like you were trapped in a weird fever dream that dragged on endlessly. You might have even believed you had imagined the whole thing if not for Bill’s sudden change in behavior. He went from endless borderline harassment to avoiding you like the plague. It was actually.... pleasant? If you had known a kiss was all it took to get him off your back, you would have done it a long time ago.

One week bled into another and you foolishly let your guard down. You were walking back to your room from detention when someone grabbed you and pulled you into a dark empty archway. It took your eyes a moment to adjust to the lack of lighting but one look at the striped hand clutching your bicep and you knew who was behind this.

“Let go of me!” You began to struggle against his hold but Bill refused to release you.

“We need to talk. Or rather, I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen,” Bill sounded serious, more serious than usual at least, so you stopped struggling and actually listened.

“I have a girlfriend, a Tigress, the way nature intended-

“Look if this is about the other night, it never happened okay? It was a mistake, it didn’t mean anything,” Bill slammed his other hand against the wall besides you effectively caging you and shutting you up.

“How could you say that?” He growled, “ How can you sit there and say it meant nothing?”

You finally gained the courage to look up at him and immediately regretted it. His face was a mix between pure fury and utter anguish. You began to seriously doubt if you would actually make it out of this alive.

“You just don’t get it do you? How hard this is for me!” He spat. Anger began to boil in you. How dare he claim your very existence was hard on him when he had made every day of you life for years a living hell.

“I think about you night and fucking day! You’re always fucking there, acting so goddamn innocent. Acting like you don’t see anyone. Well I’m tired of being goddamned invisible!” He was heaving in malice but his eyes gave him away. They were desperate, hurt.

“B-Bill.... I don’t... understand.”

“There you go again, acting clueless. Do I have to spell it out for ya?” He leaned in closer and you could feel his breath fan your face, “I can’t get you out of my head. Never could, but since that kiss? Fuck, Y/N, I want you. Bad. Always have, only difference in now I don’t think I can control it. I’ve tasted perfection and I’m not going back.”

You were so stunned that all you could manage to do was stare. Before you was the boy who hated your guts, and now he was trying to make some sort of fear mongered confession? This had to be a joke.

“Y-you can’t be serious.... Bill how many times have you called me ugly? Or dumb? Or weak?” You gasped.

“I was lying. Every time. You’re gorgeous, and everyone knows it. I’m surprised you don’t, with the way these losers throw themselves at you.” His face was inching closer to your own.

“Everyone hates me Bill, thanks to you. No one is throwing themselves at me,” you lean away in disgust.

“Yeah because I was protecting you. You really wanna waste your time on scum leopards when you could have the King of the Jungle?”

“I don’t wa-” he cut you off by crushing his lips to yours. This kiss was nothing like the one from Detention . He had confidence about him, using every skill he acquired over the years to show off. In any other instance, you would have been swooning. But this was Bill, your bully, and you weren’t going to let yourself fall for his antics.

“You feel that? I can make you feel like that all the time. I can make you happy, so freaking happy. Just give me a chance,” his breathing was husky as he broke the kiss.

“Bill this is wrong. You’ve picked on me for years-”

“I know, fuck. I know alright, but you can’t really blame me. I had to get your attention somehow, I had to get you to notice me. C’mon, you like me too. That’s why you’re always staring at me, making sure to skip around me. You’ve been playing this game for while,” He couldn’t honestly be this self-absorbed and psychotic could he?

“I was afraid of you, idiot! I was trying to stay out of your way so you’d leave me alone!”

“Bullshi-”

“Bill!? Is that you man? What are you doing over there?” A voice in the distance (one of his friends, no doubt) called over and he unknowingly let your arm go. You didn’t wait a second as you bolted from under him, running away as if your life depended on it.

You didn’t stop running until you got to your dorm, immediately getting ready for bed without a word to anyone. Sleep evaded you, of course, the very time you needed to escape your thoughts the most. They kept going back to a certain tiger.

Had he really been pining after you all these years? Was he seriously so fucked up he thought torturing you was a way to your heart? Was this all apart of some elaborate scheme to humiliate even further?

You couldn’t be sure as the same questions played on loop through your mind. The only thing you could be sure of was you’d never been kissed like that before. Your lips still tingled defiantly with the ghost of his touch. You wanted to despise him. You had despised him. And nothing about that had changed except now you knew what a good kisser he was.

You groaned and buried your face into your pillow. You needed to get him out of your mind. Years of abuse couldn’t be wiped away in one evening.

So why didn’t the butterflies in your stomach go away?

///////////

AN: I wasn’t sure what I wanted the endgame to be so I just ended here.

[flowers-creativity]

Febuwhump Day 6: Insomnia

Fandom:  The Musketeers

Characters: Aramis, Porthos

Warnings: None

Summary: Aramis can’t sleep

Notes: First Febuwhump ficlet! I’m not doing all of them but will post if and when the muse strikes.

This one is for @aini-nufire who suggested Aramis and insomnia.

AO3 link

Later, he could no longer say when it had started. Probably around the time after the King had announced that the Queen was with child. Beaming and proud and with no doubt at all that his childless marriage had finally been blessed. The only one in the room who knew what had actually happened was Athos, and one look had made it clear that sympathy was not high on his list of reactions to the news.

So he hadn't gone to him to look for it. And he could not go to Porthos, which hurt in its own special way, nor to d'Artagnan, which hurt in a different way again.

As was his wont to do, he went to others for, if not sympathy, at least companionship. But between the memory of one stolen night with a lonely woman who told him he was worth her touch, her affection, the shadow it was casting on his friendships, his family of those three soldiers, his brothers, and the thought of what was to come – and he was terrified, and terrifyingly excited … Companionship did not help.

So he stopped going to Madame du Peigne, to sweet Marie, to playful Yvette. Instead, he went home, to his apartment near the Garrison, and fell into bed in the vain hope that maybe at home, his mind would rest.

And then he got up and lit a candle, sitting until the small hours of the morning poring over his Bible until his eyes ached and his mind was awhirl with quotes and parables that might have helped at another time but this time, did nothing to soothe the sting of his mistakes and how little he actually regretted them.

When the sun rose, he got up, tied his weapons belt around his waist and marched into the Garrison as if he wasn't dragging the weight of too many sleepless nights with him.

He could keep this up. And at some point, he would be so tired that he would be able to sleep, his mind be damned. He was sure of it.

_________________

“Aramis!”

Aramis yanked his head up, opening his eyes – he did not remember closing them … “Huh?”

Porthos loomed in front of him, bent over the table and a hand on Aramis' shoulder. “You alright? Almost landed face-first in the soup there.” Dark eyes bored into his, worriedly searching for something.

Aramis leaned back and tried not to feel too disappointed when Porthos' hand slipped from his shoulder. “Oh … Ah,” he hedged, then yawned, which was only half play-acting. “I guess I must've fallen asleep for a moment. I'm just a bit tired.”

“Hum,” Porthos said as he settled on the bench opposite without his eyes leaving Aramis' face, “you've been looking a bit tired a lot, lately. Not sleeping well?”

How about not at all, Aramis thought bitterly. But aloud, he said: “Oh, you know. Madame de Chalon's husband is away, and who am I to waste such a perfect opportunity?” He grinned his usual charmer's grin and hoped that he was good enough an actor that Porthos would not notice it didn't reach his eyes.

Porthos rolled his eyes good-naturedly, even if the worry was not completely gone. “Well, I'd say when you start falling asleep at the mid-day meal, it's time to cut back a bit. You never listen to me, though, so I won't waste my breath.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Just take care, alright? I won't be there to keep you from drowning in your soup all the time.”

“I always listen to you!” Aramis protested, ignoring the ache the whole conversation was stirring in his heart. It wasn't Porthos' fault, just the contrary. It was Aramis who had done something so huge, so dangerous that he could no longer sit and banter with his friends like they used to, that he could not ask his oldest friend for help when the thoughts of it haunted him. That he could not confess to him the darkest part of it: that he did not regret it. Not the night itself, nor what had come of it. Not the thought of a child – his child.

Porthos snorted. “Alright, you listen sometimes,” he acquiesced magnanimously. “But always is as much as an exaggeration as never.”

Aramis conceded the point with a tilt of his head, then dragged himself off the bench and said: “I'll better go and take a nap before afternoon training, then, so I won't fall asleep with a musket in my hand. I'll see you then?”

“Sure,” Porthos said, grinning widely and waving at him. “And don't oversleep, or I'll come and drag you out of bed for a bath in the horse trough. That'd wake you up quickly, eh?”

Aramis returned the grin to the best of his abilities. “No, thanks, I prefer gentler ways of being wakened.”

“Not gonna put on a dress and wake you up with a kiss!” Porthos called after him as he walked away, and the grin Aramis gave him over his shoulder felt more natural. “You'd look really nice, though!” he called back.

His grin faltered quickly, though, and he spent the next hour lying on his bed, wide awake, and tried to find a way how he could have told Porthos the truth without putting a noose around his neck like he had done to Athos.

_____________________

Standing guard was Hell. Aramis was convinced of it. Training was bad – and his performance got worse by the day – and patrols were bad – and he thanked God every time they made it through without his fatigue getting one of them killed – but standing guard was Hell. Nothing to do that required as much attention as he could spare, no conversation that kept his thoughts from straying, no movement that kept his limbs from locking up … He was sure he was trembling, and his eyes stung with involuntary tears that he blinked away quickly.

“Aramis,” he heard Porthos hiss at him, and he shook his head without looking at him.

“Aramis,” his friend repeated, “you're not well. I can see it. Everyone can see it.”

Aramis shook his head again, staring straight ahead. If he dared look at Porthos right now, he would lose it.

Porthos huffed impatiently. “Y'know, I don't wanna know what's going on. You don't need to tell me. But you can't go on like that. Look at me, Aramis.” He suddenly loomed before him, and Aramis shrank back, startled. Strong hands caught him by the elbows, keeping him upright. “When did you sleep last?”

Aramis willed his sluggish brain to come up with a quip, something that sounded enough like him that it would dispel the worry in Porthos' dark eyes. But in the end, all he managed was a pathetic “I don't know” as he blinked again, feeling moisture collecting in the corners of his eyes. That much was the truth – he had long lost track of when he slept, snatches and seconds here and there, maybe even half an hour at a time, but none of it feeling like he had truly slept and doing nothing to lighten the burden of fatigue weighing down on him.

Porthos looked at him a while longer, and Aramis felt himself swaying on his feet, clinging desperately to the last shreds of his self-control so he didn't break down right here, in Porthos' arms. Porthos huffed again and turned away. “Stay here,” he ordered. “I'm gonna talk to Athos.”

Aramis nodded helplessly, leaning back against the wall as Porthos released his grip. He drifted in his stupor until Porthos appeared again at his side and took his elbow in a strong grip. “So,” he announced, “we're going home. And you're going to sleep.”

“But,” Aramis sputtered, “our shift--”

“--is over now,” Porthos talked over him. “Don't worry about it.” He steered Aramis through the Palace's halls, paying little attention to anything else and overriding all of Aramis' weak protests. Finally, Aramis gave in – not that he expected that he would actually sleep, no matter how much Porthos wanted to help. What could he do, really? He could not take his thoughts away.

The ride to the Garrison was a blur in his mind, as was the walk up to his rooms – no, wait, these were Porthos' rooms. Aramis looked around, at a loss why Porthos had brought him here.

Porthos walked him to his bed, sat him down and sat back on his haunches before him, meeting his gaze with a dark scowl. In any other, this would have looked fearsome but even in his fragile state, Aramis could not help but know this look. This was Porthos at his most protective.

“Alright,” his friend started, “here's how I see it. There's somethin' goin' on that don't let you sleep. Don't tell me it's Madame One-or-another or Mademoiselle So-and-so. I know what you look like when you're tired because you've been enjoying yourself. So it's somethin' else, and you're not talkin' to me about it. Or the others.”

Aramis could do nothing more than nod dumbly. All of his usual light banter had dried up, and he knew it had gone too far, anyway. Porthos would never accept diversion now.

“So this is how it's gonna go,” Porthos continued. “We're goin' to bed now. And I won't ask, and you don't have to talk. But you will sleep.”

“I can't,” Aramis choked out.

“You will,” Porthos repeated confidently. “Because you know I'm here, and I've got your back.”

Aramis shook his head and leaned forward, burying his hands in his hair. “No, Porthos, Porthos, please,” he begged without knowing what he was asking for, “I can't, I--”

Porthos' hands closed around his wrists, and he tugged until Aramis had no choice but lift his head and meet his gaze. “Trust me,” Porthos implored.

There was only one reply to that: “Always.”

Porthos nodded, satisfied. “Come on.” He helped Aramis shed his doublet and boots, then guided him until he lay prone on Porthos' bed. Aramis let it happen, past refusal and past hope. He listened to Porthos moving around the room, closing the curtains so the room was dipped into a half-light, then shedding his own outer layers and crawling into the bed behind him. Porthos' arms closed around Aramis and pulled him back to his chest, his bulk shadowing him. The warmth emanating from that broad chest seemed to sink right into his bones, and he only now became aware of how cold he had been. He closed his eyes and let himself sink into it, into the strength and protection promised by the arms folded around him. Even if he could not sleep, he could rest here, knowing that his friend was here and did not want to pry, wanted nothing but for him to be warm and comfortable and get better.

Porthos' voice was a balm as he whispered: “Sleep, Aramis. I have your back.” It stripped him bare but at the same time, enveloped him like a warm blanket. Trust me, Porthos had asked, and he did, with a child's simple knowledge that no evil could touch him here. Not even the nightmare of his own creation that his life had been recently.

“Sleep,” Porthos repeated, and with a deep sigh, Aramis let go.

He slept.

[writeroutoftime]

lost in love and time - chapter 1

CATCH UP - PROLOGUE PART 1, PROLOGUE PART 2

pairing: bucky barnes x reader 

summary: haunted mansion au - flash forward to present time and natasha and sam can’t seem to drag you away from work. when they finally do, what is it about a call that pulls you to this house? 

warnings: none 

words: 2092

a/n: first of all, I am so so sorry for the long wait in between the prologue and this chapter! life kinda got in the way, but I am back on track now! also, bucky is not in this chapter, but don’t you worry he is coming soon and this is really important to set up the rest of the story! so, please enjoy, stay safe, and have a lovely day!

oOoOo

Present Day

The soft and steady tune of a waltz pulls your mind away from the paperwork in front of you and transports you to another world. It is a world you’ve traveled to many times, but one you can never place your finger on. There was the familiar presence of someone near you, but as always, it was impossible to identify who they were. All you could make out was the protective and comforting feeling they provide you with. The waltz grows in volume in your mind, but keeps the same, steady tempo as you and the haze of the presence with you glided across a blurry room. The dance continues, and you feel yourself grow lighter and lighter, the room starting to come into focus. You could now make out a faint outline of the man you were dancing with, and the rest of the room follows with it, until –

“y/n!” Natasha shouted, pulling you out of your daydream.

Her voice snapped your eyes open and you all but gasp at sound of it, jumping slightly in your chair. Papers that were on your desk flew to the floor from your sudden movement, and you hurried to pick them up. “Did it happen, again?” you asked.

Natasha nodded with a small smirk. “And just as I was getting that song out of my head.”

“Try having it stuck in your mind all the time.” you groaned in frustration. “I’ll never be able to place it.”

For as long as you could remember, you had this tune stuck in your head that you could never identify. It was some kind of waltz that had the power to distract you. Each time that happened, it was as though you were pulled into some kind of memory, but nothing ever became clear or made sense to you. No matter how many songs you listened to or how many hours you spent pouring over classical compositions to find something similar to what you heard, you always came up empty.

“Well, I’m just here to collect those files on that house you just completed. There’s a potential client who wants to see the new design.” she said, but you caught her apologetic look at your frustration.  

Immediately, you began to look for said files among the mess that was on your desk. You worked at a firm that specialized in designing, decorating, and selling high-scale houses, and you were one of their top interior decorators. Many clients asked for you specifically because of the way you were able to pull inspiration from vintage decoration, yet still give buildings a fresh and modern feel.

As you looked for the files, Natasha glanced around the office, noticing how cluttered everything was. There were unused mugs and containers from past meals scattered throughout. “When was the last time you went home, girl?” she asked. “Or went on a date, for that matter.” she mumbled, but you caught her quip at your lack of a love life.

“Very funny.” you deadpanned as you handed the files over. “And for your information, I went on a date about two weeks ago.”

“And?” Natasha asked, now seated in the chair across from your desk, an excited smile on her face.

There was a moment of hesitation before you responded, not meeting her eyes. “I didn’t call him back.”

“y/n!” she groaned and threw her arms up in frustration.

“What?” you defended. “He just wasn’t the right guy, I could tell.”

Your friend rolled her eyes at the answer she had heard a million times before. “They never are. How can you know after just one date?”

“I just do, okay?” you grumbled, not wanting to have this conversation again. “I know the right guy is out there, and I’ll know when I find him.” you added as you waked to the window that looked out over the city.  

Since you were young, you had believed that there was one perfect person out there for everybody – you just had to find them. As you grew older, those around you began to reject that notion, but you held onto it even tighter. Why shouldn’t you wait for the one you were meant to be with? And maybe it was taking longer, than you (or Natasha) would like, but that didn’t matter to you. When it happened, you would know.

Recently, though, you did have to admit that you had been spending more time at work and less time socializing off the clock. It just didn’t feel right to you. For some reason, you never really felt connected to this day and age and how people wanted to ‘hang out’ by clubbing and going on Tinder dates. Some called you old fashioned, but you just knew what you liked. So, while others were out doing that, you threw yourself into your job.

Luckily, before Natasha could suggest yet another blind date to set you up with, the two of you were interrupted.

“How’s my favorite interior designer and realtor doing?” you heard and turned to find Sam in the doorway to your office.

A smile stretched across your face as you greeted Sam and motioned for him to come in and join you and Natasha. When you started working at Stark Realtors, Sam and Natasha had been the first two people you met, and the three of you had remained friends since. Despite you being an interior designer, Natasha being a relator, and Sam being an architect, you all, surprisingly, found yourselves spending time together both in and out of work.

“Fine. Just thinking that y/n here needs to take a little break from work.” Natasha said with a teasing grin.

Before you could make your case, Sam made himself comfortable in and chair and grinned. “Hell yeah! I’m down for a weekend away. How ‘bout this weekend?” he asked, casually.

“Perfect.” Natasha said and her head snapped towards you, curiously.

“Guys, as much as I’d love to spend the weekend with you, I can’t.” you said and rushed to look busy by putting some papers away in your file cabinet.

Groans of protests came from Sam and Natasha at your statement. “Come on, y/n!” Sam pleaded.

“I’ve seen your schedule for this weekend.” Natasha said. “You’re completely free.”

Your mouth opened at her words, trying to think of a counterargument. After a moment, you closed your mouth and placed your hand on your hip and glared at her, hoping she would cave. It was a lost cause, and one you shouldn’t have engaged in. Natasha was the master of the stare down, and you knew that within a minute she would have you agreeing to go on the trip.

Her gaze intensified, and somehow gave off an authoritarian, yet innocent look, and you were the first look away. “Damn it!” you mumbled. A sigh left your lips, but after a moment you turned to your friends with a slight smile. “Alright, I guess we’re going away this weekend.”

They cheered at your words and promised to take care of everything. All you had to do was pack, and pick them up tomorrow, after work. Not long after, Natasha left with the papers she had originally come in for, and Sam offered you a hug before he left.

Once your office was empty once more, you fell back into your desk chair and exhaled loudly through your mouth. Silence once more washed over you, and you willed the tune that had been stuck in your head earlier, not to come back. For a small amount of time, you focused on the paperwork you needed to complete and file, shuffling papers around every few minutes. It wasn’t until the phone rang that you were pulled out of your bubble.

“y/n y/l/n, interior designer for Stark Relators. How may I help you?” you answered, eyes still focused on your paperwork.

“y/n, y/l/n?” the voice confirmed, slightly nervous.

You forced a sigh back at the repetitiveness of the caller so far. “Yes, sir. How can I help you today?” you asked, again.

“Well, I was wondering if maybe you had time to stop by the house I work at for a consultation? My employer is looking for a change, and you come highly recommended.” the man on the phone spoke.

The tone surprised you, but you quickly balanced the phone between your ear and shoulder and grabbed your calendar. “Of course, sir. When would be most convenient for you and your employer?”  

“Tomorrow. Tomorrow would most likely work best.” he spoke hurriedly.

As you were about to confirm the appointment, you remembered that tomorrow afternoon you were leaving with Sam and Natasha, and you were booked with meetings and other appointments all morning. “I’m so sorry, sir, but tomorrow doesn’t work for me. I could do first thing on Mon- “

“No!” he all but shouted, then cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, but I must ask, is there any way it could be tomorrow?” he almost pleaded. “I promise it will be worth your while. It is quite a big project.” he added trying to entice you.

Right as you were about to decline, something inside of you told you to accept. “Alright, sir.” you agreed and settled on a time for early evening, and he gave you the address.

At the end of the call, you thanked him for his time, and hung up, a smile on your face. Sam and Natasha were going to kill you, but it would be – at most – a thirty-minute delay before you could start your weekend away together. What could go wrong?

oOoOo

When Friday came around, you had everything packed and got in your car to go pick up Sam, and then you picked up Natasha. As soon as she stepped out of her apartment, she took one look at your outfit and gave you a pointed glare. “Really, y/n?” she asked, arms crossed over her chest.

Sam, who had been messing with the music, looked up. “What’s wrong?”

“You didn’t notice y/n’s outfit? Don’t you think it’s a little strange to be wearing something so professional for a weekend away?” she asked Sam, though she kept her gaze on you the whole time.

Her stare made you squeamish and you couldn’t help the guilt that was rising within you. Instead, you just waited for her to get in the car and drove away. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t refuse this consultation.” you finally said, your voice at least had the decency to sound shameful.

“A consultation, really?” Sam asked, sighing in frustration.

Natasha threw her arms in the air. “The whole point of this weekend is to get away from work, and now you’re driving straight towards it.”

In your defense, this was an offer you couldn’t pass up, and, again, you had felt some pull to accept it. “Like I said, this is a big deal, and not just for me. Maybe their looking to sell this house, which could mean big bucks for you Natasha. And Sam, maybe as the designer, I could suggest that some architectural changes be made.” you tried to persuade your friends.

After a moment of silence, Sam spoke up. “How long is this going to take?”

“Thirty minutes at most.” you guaranteed.

The silence that followed that time, you took as reluctant acceptance. The drive continued, until you turned down a dirt road that was long and somewhat narrow. It felt like it wouldn’t end, and the further down the path you drove, the further from the outside world you got. Whoever lived here, did not want to be disturbed. Finally, you could see some property ahead of you that most likely belonged to the employer of the man you had spoken to on the phone.

Your pressure on the gas began to slow as you saw gates ahead of you, and eventually you stopped, and all three of you let out a gasp. Bent over the steering wheel to get a better look, you gazed upon the glorious mansion that was in front of you. It was a grand, white structure that had pillars down the front and iron gates placed around the house. It gave off a late Victorian feel and you thought it looked absolutely beautiful. Of course, the grounds surrounding it needed a bit of love, and it truly looked like no one lived there, but you still loved it.

“Just look at it.” you whispered, more so to yourself.

“Now how do we get through the gates?” Sam asked.

oOoOo

tags: @readermia @mgk-rooklover1997 @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @dabooks23 @loser-alert​ @themeanestlittlewitch​ @peaches-roses-sins​ @tiffanynguyen03​

[writehardwhumpharder]

Carson drabble - A new low (unfinished)

Carson stared up at his ceiling for the third night in a row. He was really starting to hate the look of it. Carson turned over with a sigh  to look out the window instead. The moon was bright that night, casting odd, dark shadows over already dark spaces.

"What am I doing?" He asked out loud to himself. No matter how long he laid there attempting to clear his head, he wasn't going to fall asleep. Not after what happened a few days ago at least. Carson was no stranger to nightmares, he usually had them a few nights a week, but that never stopped him from falling asleep before.

Even if he had stopped resurrecting living things when he was a kid, the memory would still haunt him. Death just isn't something you can forget. He'd stared into that black abyss, let the cold emptiness wash over him as he reached in to pull a soul back out. But this time, Death had pulled back. Carson always knew that there would be a limit to his powers, eventually the reaper wouldn't stand idly by while he messed with the scales of life and death. There was a natural, inevitable end to all life and Carson had found it the hard way.

It all started when a young woman died in a traffic accident on her way to work. Carson got to her a minute or so after the crash, while metal was still hot and smoke poured out from the ravaged engine. It was before the authorities got there, he was one of a small crowd beginning to form in the intersection. Seeing the young kid crying in the backseat, Carson didn't hesitate to grab her hand through the broken window and reach down for her fading soul. The world melted away around them and Carson focused solely on the energy in front of him. When he felt the lingering threads of life in the bottom of the black hole, he pulled, but a stronger force pulled back, and hard. Carson thought for a horrible second that it would take him too as he was swept up in Death's current. He struggled to separate himself from the woman’s soul which was being violently dragged deeper into that cold abyss. The message was clear. This was a soul Carson couldn’t take back. He was just a visitor here, given the privilege to retrieve souls from a power much stronger than himself. It was a privilege that could be taken away, and if that power wanted Carson, it would have him, plain and simple. Suddenly he was falling, sinking, fading, dying. Through either luck or mercy, at the last second, it let go. Pulling away like a receding tide, and then he was back on the street gasping for air. The world was so bright in comparison that he scrunched his eyes closed against the harsh light. Every fiber of his being trembled with fear and he clutched his chest protectively. A very young, very surprised paramedic stared down at him. She'd been reaching for the paddles to restart his heart when he jolted awake on his own.

"Sir, don't move, your heart just stopped for a moment. Can you tell me your name and how you were involved with the crash?" she asked.

"Oh shit... oh shit..." Carson mumbled to himself. He thought he'd only imagined dying and here this girl was telling him that those horrible moments he'd spent in the clutches of Death himself were real. He... he had to go home.

"Sir? Sir, can you-" she started again, reaching for his arm as he leapt up, still a bit dizzy on his feet. Carson didn't wait to let her finish. Once he was sure his heart could handle it he took off in a sprint down the street towards his apartment, his plans of going to the store completely abandoned.

When he got back he opened the door with magic, too desperate to get inside to mess around with the key. He slammed it behind him and paced back and forth a couple times before sinking into the sofa. Still trembling, Carson fought to regain control of his thoughts. Every time he thought about it he shivered all over again.

That was three days ago.

Carson managed to put the event out of his mind for periods of time during the day but each time he tried to fall asleep, he spent the night staring at his ceiling, blaring rock music most of the time to get his own brain to leave him alone. The whiskey helped with that too of course. Carson didn't make a habit of drinking often but every night since then he'd drink until drifting into a numb sleep, only to startle awake an hour or so later. When Carson saw Daniel yesterday he could tell he'd been giving him odd looks, but since he hadn't heard any of the usual screaming, he assumed Carson was sleeping just fine.

When morning finally rolled around the lack of sleep was starting to take its toll. His tired sluggishness was replaced by an odd jittery feeling and the simple task of sitting up almost made him throw up. After a few long moments of just sitting on the edge of his bed Carson decided to make some coffee. It was around 7am which was much earlier than he'd usually wake up but lately, time was blurring together and he looked forward to the morning when he could give up on the futile act of trying to fall asleep. Of course starting the day with so little energy didn't give Carson much hope for it but he had to keep going, they had a case to solve. It was probably better if he just tired himself out, Carson reasoned, sleep couldn’t evade him forever. But deep down, Carson knew that he was scared to close his eyes, because every time he did, it felt like he was dying all over again.

By the time his coffee was done brewing Carson was lost in thought again, leaning against the counter, staring at nothing. The beep that the machine made when it was done startled him so much that he jumped back, blinking his eyes to look for the source of the annoyingly loud sound.

"Right... right, coffee..." he mumbled, pouring it into a mug, skipping the milk and sugar. Carson stumbled over to the couch, looking for a way to kill some time until the rest of the world woke up. Or at least until Daniel did. Carson briefly considered waking him up in some obnoxious fashion but ultimately decided against it. Danny had enough to deal with at the shop right now.

"I need more friends," he sighed, "I need more sleep."

He decided to check his messages while forcing some dry cereal down his throat. The thought of eating disgusted him but Carson knew he'd only feel worse later if he didn't. Riley had mentioned that Morris wanted him to come to the station that day, she was probably expecting him to come in at noon but seeing as Carson had nothing else to do he might as well get it over with now.

The headache forming behind his temples was steadily getting worse, but honestly, when wasn't it? He slipped his pain meds into his coat just in case and put on his darkest pair of sunglasses before going out. Carson learned back in college that with sleep deprivation his alertness tended to fluctuate. Part of the time he'd feel almost normal, awake, energized. Then a few minutes later he'd struggle to simply keep his eyes open. The walk to the station was a lot like that. He’d go a few blocks without having any problems, just breathing in the fresh morning air to keep his brain clear. Then suddenly fatigue would wash over him again and threaten to knock him over. Carson grabbed onto a light post and bent over, trying to catch his breath. He took a few deep breaths before straightening then kept going. All in all, he only had to stop and sit down four times on his way to the station, which Carson considered to be a major victory given how shitty he was feeling. Realistically he knew he couldn’t keep going like this, eventually his body would give up on him. And it was exactly Carson’s personality to push himself to that point with a sort of  “do nothing and see what happens” approach. His mom wouldn’t be at all happy if she knew about that, Carson’s brain conjured up an image of the exact face she’d make and he burst out laughing, looking like a madman on the street. He wasn’t even sure what was so funny about it but with his brain being absolutely scrambled right now it didn’t really matter. Honestly, the lack of sleep wasn’t really his biggest problem. It was the constant anxiety that tore through him every time he thought about what happened when he tried to resurrect that woman. His nerves were shot and the caffeine he was using to compensate only added to the problem.

The police station came into view and Carson jogged the last few steps, just wanting to get inside. It was busy like usual but all the background noise stayed pleasantly in the background, too fuzzy to really bother him. The receptionist smiled at him as he walked in, he’d met her before a couple times.

“I’m here.” Carson said, stopping in front of her. His arms hung heavily at his sides.

“I see…” Janice trailed off, giving him an odd look as she took in his appearance, “I suppose you’re here to talk to Morris, you can head back to his office.” Her eyes lingered on him as he walked straight to the back corner of the station where Morris’s office was.

What she didn’t see was how hard Carson was trying to walk in a straight line, fighting to keep all his limbs in coordination. Hell, if he was at home right now he wouldn’t have even tried not to stagger into the wall, or maybe he’d have just crawled there. “Can’t fall down if you’re already on the floor”, Carson thought to himself, it was becoming one of the mottos he lived by. He walked past Riley’s desk where she was hard at work, filling in some forms. She noticed him and turned in her swivel chair.

“Hey, I’ll meet you in there in a minute,” she said. Carson looked at her like he understood none of what she had just said.

“I’m getting coffee.” He declared, heading to the break room. While Carson wasn’t really on the payroll, bagels and coffee were fair game, so he walked up to the machine and picked up the empty pot. Carson stared at it with a frown, not having planned on actually making the coffee himself. Wishing the pot would just magically refill itself, Carson racked his brain for some sort of instant coffee spell, he knew he had one. Just as he was about to start making a ritual circle in sugar, the door to the break room swung open and Riley was quick to whisk the pot away from him. He had this sort of vacant look today and she honestly didn’t trust him to use any kind of complex technology.

“Step aside, I’ll make it.” Carson did as he was told, watching patiently as she scooped some fresh grounds into the filter then filled the tank with water. The machine made some weird noises and started to drip hot, brown liquid into the bottom of the pitcher.

“Aren’t you going to take your sunglasses off?” She asked. Carson raised a hand to touch them as if he had forgotten they were there. Lowering them for a split second, Carson looked into the room, instantly being blinded by the bright fluorescent bulbs. Spots stained his vision for a few seconds before fading away.

“Nope.” He said, sounding certain.

“Whatever, here,” she held out a mug for him to take and didn’t miss the way his hands shook as he gripped the handle, “what’s wrong with you today?” Riley asked.

“Nothing, it’s,” the question was enough to send Carson’s mind back to that dark place again and a full-body shiver raced up his spine, “nothing.”

“Okayyyy,” Riley said sounding unconvinced but didn’t push the subject, “since you’re here we should head over to Morris’s office, he says he has important info. on the case and there’s some paperwork for you to fill out.”

Carson sighed deeply and walked over to the kitchen counter, grabbing milk and sugar to add to his coffee. “Paperwork, my favorite,” his voice was so dull as he said it that Riley couldn’t even consider it sarcasm. Carson looked her in the eyes as he slipped the flask, which he’d been keeping within arms reach the last three days, out of his pocket, pouring an unknown amount of whiskey into his coffee. His head was already killing him and despite the energy coursing through his shaking body, Carson wanted nothing more than to melt into the floor right then and there. This concoction probably wouldn’t help with either of those things but he had a state of semi-consciousness to maintain if he was going to get through the day. The goal was to be awake enough to move around but numb enough to keep the waking nightmares away. He’d never truly forget what he saw, what he felt, but given some time Carson would shake the feeling. He just had to get through a few more days to get it out of his head.

“Wow okay, not even gonna ask what that’s about…” Riley gave him a look of concern, judgement, skepticism, and pity all in one. Carson didn’t like it one bit but you can’t walk around looking a right mess as he was without getting a few odd looks. He followed her out of the break room and sank down into Morris’s sofa happily once they were in his office. Riley sat in the desk chair opposite Morris, actively ignoring him in interest of actually getting some work done.

Carson felt his eyes starting to slip closed, and suddenly sitting down wasn’t a very viable option. If he stayed on the couch any longer he’d fall asleep then probably wake up screaming. Not wanting to risk a new level of embarrassment in front of these people, Carson reluctantly dragged himself out of the chair and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest to try to get somewhat comfortable.

“You can sit down if you want to…” Morris said, not sure why Carson felt the need to suddenly stand up instead.

“Nah, I’m good.” Carson replied.

“Alright well let’s do the easy stuff first. I have two witness reports I need you to look over and sign. if there are any details I missed you can add them in in the spaces provided. Then I’ve also got a waiver for you. You don’t have to sign it but it would save me a lot of time. Every time you go and get yourself hurt on our watch it’s a whole mess of paperwork to get it sorted out. And knowing you…” Morris looked him over, not in a judgmental way necessarily, but Carson got what he was hinting at. It would be easier for everyone if he just waived their liability.

“Mmm yeah, sounds like a good idea,” Carson said tiredly, rubbing his eyes with one hand. Morris handed Riley the waiver first on a clipboard and she passed it along to Carson with a pen which took an unhealthy amount of fumbling for him to grab. Riley watched as his eyes quickly scanned over the paper. If he wasn’t doing that thing where he mouths the words to himself she would have thought he was going into REM sleep instead the way his eyes fluttered back and forth, only half open.  

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

Carson understood maybe a quarter of the document in front of him but he signed it at the bottom anyway. His signature looked more like a scribble than it did letters but it always kind of looked like that… Riley leaned over and took the clipboard back from him and set it down on Morris’s desk.

“Okay and I already wrote up the witness sta-,” he paused, “they were right here a second ago…” he fumbled around. “Miller.”

That’s all he needed to say for Riley to know he expected her to find the documents. They were partially hidden by a stack of files she brought with her.

“There are two of them to sign. Make sure to read them carefully and add in any missing details. We summarized all the main points to speed things up but you still need to fill in the blanks.”

Carson accepted the clipboard again and risked sitting back down on the couch. This was going to be a bit more difficult than he thought. Okay here it goes… Carson squinted at the page.

“On August 18th, 2019…” He started. The rest of the words kind of blended together, “witness went to the location: Central Ave in Bushwick, Brookyn, New York…”

“You really don’t have to read it out loud. We know what it says,” Riley told him.

Shit that was out loud? He must really be losing it not to notice that. “Oh, okay, I’ll just read it then…” He reached for his mug instinctively and let it warm up his hand. Taking a sip, Carson forgot that it was equal parts coffee, whiskey, and sugar. He glanced into the dark liquid for a little longer than he intended to.

“I don’t think this is working,” Riley said. “Maybe it would help if I read it to you…”

She gently took the clipboard and mug out of his hands, setting the mug down on Morris’s desk out of his reach. “Okay, On August 18th, 2019 the witness went to the location Central Ave. The incident was described as follows by the witness: At approximately 10:30pm he came across a group of seven people all suspected to be magic-users. The suspects used…”

Eventually they got through the first statement and Carson even managed to recall a few more details to add in. He signed it and waited for her to move on the next one. Riley again acted as reader and transcriber.

“On August-“ Riley started to read.

“Um, wait a moment,” Morris interrupted her and pointed to Carson. “I think he fell asleep.”

“I guess we need to wake him up before we continue, right?” It was a genuine question from trainee to supervisor.

“Yes you need the person to be conscious for the interview,” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Don’t bother though. I want to get through a few of these files then we can get back to it.”

[alecmagnuslwb]

My Heart is a Haunted House

Read on AO3

The house before them is one of the more foreboding she’s ever seen. It’s the kind of sprawling crickety old mansions that would send Scooby Doo and Shaggy screaming into the hills. So of course they’re about to go inside of it.

“It should be easy, a quick in and out, grab the book and go,” John says entwining their fingers together and tugging her through the gates.

She’s heard him say that before, many times, and it’s almost always not true.

“Why exactly are we doing this instead of drinking all of Oliver’s free booze at the Justice league Halloween party?” she sighs trailing behind him using her free hand to keep her dress from getting too dirty.

She worked hard on her and John’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer inspired costumes this year. Her red dress and flowing coat are practically exact replicas of the ones Drusilla wore and John’s long black duster is an exact replica of Spike’s that she bought online for an amount of money she’s not too proud to admit to.

If this little outing ruins any piece they’re wearing she’s going to be so mad.

“Because I lost a bet to Richie,” he says when they reach the large door. He lets go of her hand and tugs on the knocker shaped like a lion’s mouth. She doesn’t know why he does it, it’s not like someone’s going to answer, no one’s lived here in years.

“Yeah, you lost a bet,” she says flicking her wrist and opening the door. “So why am I here?”

It’s not that she doesn’t want to help John, it’s just that this is the first Halloween in years where they haven’t caught wind of some death cult trying to sacrifice a bunch of virgins or a vampire gang taking advantage of the spooky evening to massacre a party of college alcoholics. It’s their own personal Halloween for the first time in a long time.

They get a free night to rock their kickass costumes, drink a little too much and dance borderline inappropriately together in a public space; it’s supposed to be a fun Halloween not a work Halloween and she wants to soak up every bit of it.

John chuckles looping his arm through hers and pulling her inside the dark foyer of the house.

“Because you love me and wish to support me in all endeavors,” he says conjuring a ball of light to his hand and sending it into the air to guide them to the library.

Zatanna sighs as he drags her along, “I love you. The second thing is questionable though.”

John doesn’t say anything just chuckles and runs a hand through his slicked back extra bleach blond hair. Convincing him to dye it for their costume had been easy a few kisses in the right spots and he was putty in her hands.

They follow the conjured light down a long dark hallway covered in cobwebs, furniture draped in white cloths. It all gives the house an even more spooky vibe than the outside has achieved. A few creaks and groans of old walls catch her attention, but she brushes them off continuing down the hall until the light stops directly in front of a set of large ornate double doors.

The doors are a deep dark wood, the only thing in the house that isn’t rotted, with gold sigils and ornate figure heads sticking out from them.

She recognizes some of the symbols, signs for magic and protection, a few others look a bit more dastardly and far more John’s area of expertise.

“Some of these don’t look too friendly,” she says watching as John runs his hands along the carvings.

He moves his hand in a sort of motion, “A few, but we should be fine I don’t feel any magic running through them, do you?”

She shakes her head still eyeing the door nervously and he smiles pulling the handles of the door and opening them wide. A gust of cold wind bursts out across them sending Zatanna’s hair flying back and the light that’s supposed to be guiding them sputters out. Not a good sign.

She looks at John about to say that out loud when a booming deep female voice washes over them.

“Who dares to enter my home?” the voice says and with another burst of air John and Zatanna are sent forward into the room barely staying on their feet. The lights begin flickering on and off and books start flying off the shelves.

“Fine, huh?” Zatanna says as a blur in black and white rushes past her knocking her to the ground. John attempts to rush to her side but is hit by the same blur. He’s pushed all the way back into the one bare wall groaning as his back slams into it and he’s lifted up. The boards of the wall creak violently turning and bending around his wrists and ankles keeping him in place. A rope slides loose from the curtains tangling around his face and into his mouth.

The blur zooms at Zatanna again and she rolls just fast enough out of its reach her back colliding with something hard and pointy. She lifts herself up and turns finding a stack of bare bones that are very much human and very much real.

They’re not the first people to come for a book in this library, they will however be the first to leave. First they’ll fight this entity, party their asses off and then they’ll go kill Richie for sending them in here blind.

The blur settles down in front of her and Zatanna can now see the essence of what was once a woman. Her long dark hair nearly touches the ground, her bare feet hover dripping wet and her flowing black dress whips in the air she’s circulating around them.

“You shouldn’t have come here little girl,” she growls her eyes lighting up a bright red before she reaches her long dark nails at Zatanna and sends her flying to the other side of the room. She does to her what she’s done to John securing her to the wall with old pipes and silencing her with a long curtain around her mouth.

She eyes Zatanna for a moment, Zatanna holds her star defiant and annoyed not even bothering with trying to break loose yet. The spirit hisses and averts her attention to John struggling against his bonds. She slowly hovers over to him leaving a trail of dark red water dripping from her feet as she goes.

“Such an attractive man,” the ghost says once she’s near him. She runs her long bony finger down John’s jaw her dark nails looking like they’re moment away from making a cut. “Yet, so disheveled and sad. How unfortunate.”

Zatanna works to free one of her hands. Her strongest magic may rely on the use of her voice, but she isn’t helpless like this. She focuses all her inherent magical energy to one point of her body sending it to her right arm willing it to move the pipes just enough to wiggle free.

She feels the pipes creak and move around her wrist slowly but surely working to give her space and time to get out of this mess.

It takes a moment, Zatanna’s eyes flicking up to see the spirit leaning in a little too close for comfort to John. Just as the spirit is putting one of her cold hands around John’s neck, her mouth open wide and leaning in she finally breaks a hand free from the pipes lifting up just enough to pull the curtain out of her mouth and off of her face.

“Esaeler em ylteiuq,” she whispers and she falls to the ground silently the pipes not so much as creaking as they let her go, landing on her feet like a cat. The spirit is too focused on John, taking a deep whiff of his hair that makes Zatanna cringe, to notice as she pulls an iron poker from the nearby unlit fireplace. She brandishes it like a baseball bat creeping up behind the ghost, she catches John’s eyes for a second and winks.

“He’s my disheveled, sad, attractive man,” Zatanna says earning the ghost’s attention. She turns around her dark stringy hair flipping over her shoulder. “So, hands off,” she says swinging the hot poker directly into her head.

The ghost screams and flicker in and out before disappearing altogether.

“That won’t take for long,” Zatanna says rushing to John pulling the rope from his mouth and releasing his bonds.

“Thanks, luv,” John says as drops to the ground not quite as gracefully as Zatanna had rubbing at his wrists. “Should I be offended you said disheveled and sad before attractive or am I reading into it too much?” he asks with a pout.

Zatanna shoves at his shoulder, “Shut up,” she says rolling her eyes. “We need to get this damn book, banish this spirit and-“

Zatanna freezes when she sees John’s eyes flicker behind her a look on his face that screams, oh fuck and not in a good way.

“She’s back isn’t she?”

John just nods and Zatanna turns quickly hands raising, she’s had enough of this.

“Gard siht ypeerc ssa tirips ot lleh!” she shouts flinging a black shinning burst of magic into the spirits chest. She screams immediately her body contorting and flickering in and out of being until soon enough she bursts into a thousand flickers of dark light. John grabs Zee as soon as she shatters and pulls her behind him to protect her from any gunk or dangerous feedback.

The blast leaves not a bit of proof the ghost was ever even there, just like that no fanfare or mess and she’s gone from this plane of existence.  Zatanna looks down happy to see their costumes still gleam in perfect condition. Zatanna smiles squeezing John’s hip before pulling out from behind him.

“Well now we know why Richie decided this was the favor I owed him, too scared of a ghost,” John says angrily straightening out his jacket. “Let’s find this bloody book and get out before we find out she had an equally space invading murderous sister,” he says walking over to one wall of shelves stepping over the pile of bones as he conjures another ball of light to guide them.

Zatanna heads to the far wall, she scans the spines finding the title Richie gave John and pulls the damn thing from the shelf. She stomps over to John and grabs him by the lapel of his leather jacket. She waves the book in front his eyes so he’s sees that they’re in the clear to get the hell out of there before he can even react.

“We have a party to attend,” she says pointedly dragging him out of the house so fast their guiding light can barely keep up. She seals the doors of both the library and the house with some heavy-duty magic as they go. Maybe this way if the spirit wasn’t the only thing in the house no one else will suffer the fate of those poor bones inside.  

“Next time, Richie can get his own damn book,” John says as they finally find themselves on the sidewalk again. He takes the book from her arms summoning up a quick portal and tossing the book through. Zatanna hopes it lands on Richie’s head, hard.

“Shall we?” John says holding out his arm for her, conjuring up another larger portal for the two of them. His ability, and her own frankly, to shake off attacks and monster encounters without a thought truly never stops astounding her. Zatanna smiles reaching up to fix a piece of his hair that had fallen on his forehead before linking her arm in his and happily stepping through the portal.

The party is already in full swing by the time they arrive, all the supers dressed to the nines in elaborate costumes, except for Bruce who’s wearing a tux, seemingly going as himself tonight. Zatanna eyes around the room admiring the work Ollie and Dinah, who were in charge of the festivities this year, have done. John eyes the room as well, looking for the nearest drink.

“Oh my goddess,” Zatanna says eyes glued across the room where Dinah and Ollie stand. John turns from where he’d been grabbing two large goblets of unknown liquor from a passing tray and follows her eyeline.

“Oh, I’m so glad we made it here tonight,” he says in absolute glee taking a sip from his skull shaped drink. Zatanna is too, because now for the rest of their lives they’re going to have something to hang over the heads of the great Green Arrow and Black Canary.

She grabs the second drink from John and tugs him along to greet the pair.

“Love the costumes,” Zatanna says once they reach them, John tosses his free arm across her shoulders and she leans into him with a smile. She takes a pointed sip of her drink as the pair turn to face them with wide eyes. Up close their costumes are even better.

Dinah is wearing fishnets just like she usually would, but instead of her usual blue and black tones she’s sporting a white corset and coattails and a dark wig over her usually blonde hair; Ollie’s trench coat is so accurate Zatanna is certain he stole it from one of their closets and his usually perfected goatee is gone in favor of an obvious stubble along his jaw. They make a pretty damn good Zatanna and Constantine, not quite original grade good, but good nonetheless.

“In our defense we never thought you’d show,” Dinah says recovering from her shock with a bright smile. She’s clearly nowhere near as embarrassed about this as Ollie is, which means it was definitely Dinah’s idea in the first place. “You never make it to these parties; you’re always stopping some snake demon death cult or zombie rat apocalypse.”

Zatanna and John both chuckle, both of those exact things have happened to them on Halloween before. “Finished off the death cult early this year,” she smiles. “I love the wig; you really should think about going back to your natural color.”

Dinah preens at the compliment tipping her top hat Zatanna’s way in thanks.

“You two look great as well, a perfect couples costume choice,” she smiles wrapping a hand around Oliver’s arm. “Well, second best couple’s costume.”

“Wouldn’t that technically still make us the best since we’re the genuine article?” Zatanna says with a smirk.

Dinah scrunches up her nose. “Touché.”

John snorts and reaches out pulling the cigarette from Oliver’s mouth and sighing.

“Fake smokes, come on now if you’re gonna perfect the look you’ve gotta let the chain smoking be a character guide,” he says with a teasing smile tossing the fake cigarette back at Oliver and patting him on the shoulder. Oliver finally breaks from his wide-eyed surprise and just glares.

“Come on you two, there’s a party to be had and you never get to enjoy them,” Dinah says tilting her head at the dance floor.

John tosses back the rest of his drink and then the rest of Zatanna’s before grabbing her hand.

“Eyeballs to entrails, my sweet,” he says altering his accent just slightly and quoting the character he’s sporting tonight.

Zatanna smiles a wicked smile tilting her head to John’s before pulling him out to the dancefloor, finally getting to really enjoy their Halloween.

[txtdiaries]

Void - Chapter One

SUMMARY | Amidst your world shattering to pieces, the boy you met long ago manages to fit everything back together again. Also - zombies. Lots and lots of zombies.

PAIRING | Yeonjun X Reader feat. TXT

CATEGORY | apocalypse au, end of the world, survival, angst, romance, enemies to lovers, slow burn, etc.

WORD COUNT | 3.1k

WARNINGS | dark content, lots of swearing, some mentions of slightly gore-y topics, weapon possession, etc.

SONG REC | Massacre, The New American Dream - Palaye Royale

PLAYLIST | void playlist

Preview / Chapter One / Chapter Two

It was hard for the boys to remember their old lives - a time before the world burned, before the bodies around them stopped looking like humans and more like rotting flesh - to imagine the memories they shared, the places they had seen, or even the things they had done together. It was hard, yes, but it wasn’t impossible.

Therein lies the problem.

It was hard for them to not be reminiscent of the past, to not be swayed by the memories of their old lives. And it is what haunted them everyday, constantly dragging them down when the only thing they had to do was keep moving.

Sometimes life has a funny way of reminding you that you can’t always get what you want.

12 hours down.

The younger boys in the car were starting to get impatient. Not only because the ride was painstakingly long, but because they were in charge of directions, and not one could read a map to save their lives.

“How much longer?” The youngest asks, picking at his nails in boredom.

“Yeah, where even are we?” The boy near him chimes in, peeking expectedly over the seat at the eldest, who’s now driving.

“Utah?” The blonde smashed in between the two of them asks, looking at the other boy in the passenger’s seat. He opens his mouth to answer, but Yeonjun cuts him off swiftly.

“Idaho,” He corrects him. “Don’t you know how to read a map?”

“He’s too young for them, the only map he’s ever read is Google Maps.” Soobin jokes from beside Yeonjun, legs kicked up onto the dashboard as he sits in the passenger seat.

Everyone but Beomgyu laughs, and then the second youngest next to him is speaking up. “Jun, why did we head North and not East to begin with?”

“Because, child,” Yeonjun says wistfully, “Idaho’s filled with forests, Utah and Arizona have lots of flat land. We’ll have lots of cover here to sleep and make our way East, it’s just easier this way.”

The car is silent as the rest of the boys ponder this, and then one of the youngest speaks up.

“Who made you the boss?” Taehyun grumbles, turning towards the window again.

“He’s the oldest.” Soobin replies, reclining his chair back so he can get comfortable, “He’s also the one driving, so I wouldn’t complain too much.”

The small talk quiets down as the younger boys all decide to sleep, and the second eldest opts for gazing at the green scenery passing by just outside the jeep. It’s not long before soft snores can be heard throughout the car, and the only two left awake are the oldest boys.

When the quietness becomes deafening, only then does Soobin speak.

“Know where you’re goin’ Jun?” He still faces the window. His voice is low - soft.

“A gas station, hopefully. We’re running on a quarter of a tank and if we don’t fill up soon we won’t make it far.”

Soobin breaths out a bitter laugh, and then shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

Yeonjun’s gaze flicks over to his friend, but their eyes don’t meet. He looks back to the winding road and his grip on the wheel loosens just slightly, his shoulders slouching as well. He knows what he means, he just doesn’t really want to talk about it.

“Just East, Bin. You know there was talk of help there. Groups - they could help us.”

Soobin’s already nodding, because he’s heard this speech dozens of times now. Go East, get help. It was his mantra, the thing that kept him going everyday. Problem was, he wasn’t so sure it was possible.

“So what are we gonna do after that, hm?”

Yeonjun shrugs easily, “We’re taking it one day at a time.”

And then it goes quiet, both boys’ minds reeling with their own thoughts and worries.

Soobin is the one to break the silence again.

“I just wanna go home.” He says, voice wavering just slightly, “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

Yeonjun understands where he’s coming from, and it hurts to see his best friend so miserable.

“We’ll get home. All of us, it’ll be okay.”

Soobin almost laughs, because he knows the truth.

He knows it won’t be okay. It won’t be okay because they’re trapped in some jeep in some state, in a country that isn’t theirs, and the chances of them even finding help are slim to none, let alone getting back home. 

Soobin stays quiet.

The drive continues.

“We’re here, you all know the drill.” Yeonjun speaks to the rest of the boys after he finally steers the faded jeep off the freeway and into the parking lot of an abandoned, torn apart gas station just off I-84 a few hours later. Mumbles of agreement sound through the car as seatbelts unclasp, and the boys all prepare themselves for the work that lies ahead.

“I’ll check around the back for any gallons of gas,” Yeonjun explains as he eases on the brake, easily pushing the gear shift into park before unlatching his own seat belt, “Soobin, check for cash. The rest of you, find any food or supplies you can. And for fucks sake, try to stay together this time, got it?”

Yeonjun was used to this - being the one to give orders to the younger boys while simultaneously trying to swallow his own anxiety. He liked to say it got easier as time went on, but it didn’t. It never did.

“Everyone got their weapons?” Soobin asks, giving the younger ones in the back a side glance. They all nod.

The boys all have unique weapons in their possession, but they all have become proficient in using them, as they had no saying in the matter at all.

The youngest - who was, in a way, the least experienced - has a weapon that is as safe as possible for him to use, but can also be used to protect him. A metal mace, designed for clubbing, which he keeps tucked into one of his belt loops, and has aided him since he first discovered it. It hasn’t failed him yet.

The next eldest - skilled, but still clumsy at times - has a weapon much like the prior boys, just with more accessories. The head of his mace contains a spiked, metal ball, meant for piercing in one of the most painful ways possible. He’s used it many times. It’s his favorite.

The newly turned adult - finally getting the hang of this whole apocalypse thing - has a weapon different to the other boys, but still efficient. An axe, sharpened so thoroughly it could slice off a finger in the blink of an eye. He’s lost count of how many zombies he has taken out with it, but he’s proud of himself and his weapon. He’s getting better.

The second eldest - who doesn’t have to use his weapon, or rather, weapons, if he doesn't have to - is as skilled, if even more, than the rest of the younger boys. His weapons: two machetes, kept on him at all times, both slung in their holders at his waist, hidden almost completely by the clothes he wears, but able to be taken out in a moments notice. They haven’t failed him, ever. He knows they never will.

The oldest boy of the group - the newfound leader of them all - has a simple weapon. An aluminum bat, used for baseball or softball, but does a pretty damn good job at blowing zombie skull out as well. The boy has always been confident in his weapon, but more importantly, in himself. He knows he’d be fine with or without it. 

“Okay,” Soobin speaks, “Ten minutes, tops. If anyone sees anything, do not keep it to yourself. Kill what you can, leave what you can’t. Don’t take any chances-”

“We got it, Bin.” The youngest replies, trying to ease the black-haired boys’ anxiety. He sighs and then nods, motioning towards the gas station.

“Okay. Let’s go then.”

The boys all pile out of the car, and the fun begins.

They split up, all moving quickly and silently to where they need to be. The three younger boys all stay together, making their way inside to look for food and supplies. The second eldest goes straight for the register inside as well, grabbing a stray crowbar from it’s place leaning against the wall on his way, just so it’ll be easier for him.

The oldest, however, splits off. He heads around the building towards the back, searching for any gas he can find.

“What kind of food are we looking for, Binnie?” The youngest asks once inside the store, rummaging through shelves of boxed snacks and packages of junk food, giving him a momentary glance before searching around again.

“Stuff that’ll last. And please don’t get shitty junk this time, Kai. We don’t need snacks that will slow us down, we need food. A little is okay, but try to get a variety, alright?” The boy speaks, biting on his lower lip as he wedges the crow bar into the register, bending his arms at an angle so he can drive it down and into the compartment. He takes a deep breath before lurching the bar forward with all of the strength he can, the metal groaning underneath it. In a second, the register pops open, and he stumbles forward a bit to make up for the momentum of it all. 

“Anything?” Beomgyu asks as he stuffs his backpack with water bottles, looking at the eldest in the room.

“Not much, but it’s something.” Soobin replies, bending his arm back behind his head to keep the crowbar handy in his backpack, sorting through the money in the register after. The boy hums and continues on, moving to help the rest with supplies. The hardest part is almost done. All they have to do now is collect and fill up. And then they will be on their way.

Or else, they would have been, if the blue-haired boy wasn’t having so much trouble finding any gas. 

Yeonjun swears under his breath momentarily as he searches the back for anything, sifting through empty containers and wood, trying to find just one gallon. Hell, he’d take half a gallon. Anything to get them to the next stop.

The sun is beating down on the boy, and he stands up straight after a few minutes of searching, sighing in frustration as he does so. He wishes it wasn’t this hard sometimes. He wishes it wasn’t like this sometimes. 

Something in his peripheral flashes, and he turns his head to the right towards the corner of the building. His heart rate suddenly picks up as he sees it, finally. A gallon - filled to the very top with gas. Yeonjun could cry right then. It was like heaven on fucking earth seeing it.

The gravel beneath his worn, black dr. marten boots scrapes as he jogs over to the gallon, and he thinks he’s home free, that is until he actually reaches for the gallon. 

In the blind of an eye, Yeonjun is suddenly pinned against the brick wall of the gas station, a knife to his throat and an arm bent across his chest, keeping him from moving at all. 

His heart drops quicker than it ever has in his life, and he curses himself for being so stupid. And then, after a moment, he realizes what he’s looking at. And this shocks him even more than his own stupidity.

A girl, knife gripped with whitening knuckles and adorned in what he hates to admit is a really sexy outfit, stands before him. Gaze dark and lips curled into a scowl, staring up at him dangerously.

Yeonjun feels like he could cry again. But this time, not out of joy - only pure shock.

“Who are you?” The girl asks him bitterly, voice higher than he thought it would be. 

Yeonjun stares dumbly at the girl, vocal cords apparently not working anymore as he hyper focuses on the sharp metal pressing against his adam’s apple. She lets out a sharp sigh before adding more pressure, making Yeonjun’s eyes widen as he lifts his arm up to grip her wrist. His arms - and to be completely honest, everything else - are a lot longer than hers, so he can reach easily. The girl doesn’t ease up, and Yeonjun struggles to let out a choked gasp.

“I said,” The girl repeats, “who the fuck are you?”

Yeonjun hates that he notices how she has a slight lisp, or how nice her teeth are, or even how pretty the light freckles dotting the bridge of her nose are, but he does. After all, he hasn’t been in the presence of a member of the opposite sex for months (un-zombified, he should clarify) and it doesn’t help that she is attractive. So, so attractive.

“Yeonjun.” The boy manages to pant out. This seems to please the girl just the slightest, and she lets off the pressure a bit, letting him breathe finally.

“Why are you here?” She questions him again. He coughs internally, realizing that she really does ask a lot of questions.

“Gas.” Is all he can say around coughs before he lets go of her wrist. The girl lets out a dry chuckle, void of all humor as her eyes flash to the gallon near her feet. She’s glaring at him in no time.

“Yeah, looks like it. Problem is, you were about to steal my gas.” She replies, letting out another deep sigh before her eyes flash with an emotion he can’t decipher.

“Are you here alone?”

Oh fuck, Yeonjun thinks.

He keeps his lips pressed in a tight line as she studies his reaction. Her eyes blow wide as she realizes he isn't, and then she’s yanking his arm away from her to walk him towards the entrance of the station, knife still pressed firmly to his throat.

Yeonjun weighs the options in his head momentarily.

On one hand, he is clearly stronger than the girl - that much he can tell by the way her hand grips his arm shakily, as if using all the force she can muster.

On the other hand, he doesn’t want to be shanked to death by a blood stained knife sharper than Beomgyu’s axe, so he figures it is best to just go along with what she wants. If she was going to kill him, she would have done it by now. That’s something he learned awhile ago.

“Tell whoever it is you’re with to give me everything you both have, and I won’t kill you.” She says harshly, jabbing her knee into the back of his leg momentarily to make him move faster, not realizing he was in a group. Truthfully, Yeonjun has no clue what to do, but he knows he’ll figure it out soon. And if he can’t, someone else will.

Once the girl rounds the corner and steps him up to the entrance, he sees the rest of the boys sorting through food for the trip ahead. He feels his lungs deflate with defeat then, feeling like the shittiest leader on the planet.

He prays the girl doesn’t kill them.

She’s back to kneeing him painfully in the back of the leg, and he clears his throat awkwardly, trying to get their attention.

“We found cash,” Soobin explains as he hears his best friend’s sound, still keeping his eyes trained on the packages in his hands, “Not much, but it’s something. Did you find any-?”

Once his eyes flick up to his friend, he stops talking. His hands drop the food in his grasp and he visibly pales. The younger boys look up as well, all reacting in similar ways. It is silent for a few moments, the only noise being Yeonjun’s ragged breathing, before his friend moves.

Soobin doesn’t waste any time before sliding his machetes out from their holders, the metal sounding sharply through the air as he twirls them in his palms to grip them properly. He steps forward towards the two just outside the exit, gaze dark. Yeonjun has never seen him look so intimidating.

Yeonjun gives his friend a worried look before the tallest lunges forward, already shouting as he takes long strides toward the two.

“WAIT!” Yeonjun screams suddenly, voice thick with fear as the girl behind him yanks him away from Soobin, shielding herself completely with him as the knife presses dangerously hard against his skin.

“Fucking wait!” Yeonjun pants, eyes squeezing shut as he grips onto the girls wrist again, nails digging into her skin as Soobin stands just inches away. His weapons are raised up, ready to slice into what would now be Yeonjun’s ribs if he proceeded.

“Nobody move!” The girl finally speaks up, eyeing Soobin from over Yeonjun’s shoulder, breath hot against his ear. He tries to ignore the small affect her breath on his skin has, and focus on the main problem at hand.

“Come any closer and I will not hesitate to slit his throat.” The girl says, voice visibly shaking as she does so. Yeonjun is still panting.

“Take whatever you want,” Soobin growls, “Just don’t hurt him.”

“Give me everything you have.” She replies. “Everything.”

Soobin sighs and his eyes glance behind him for a second, looking at the rest of the boys frozen in place.

“We don’t have much. Just a little bit of cash and some food and water. That’s it.”

The girl scoffs and Yeonjun feels her knife lighten up just slightly. He doesn’t hesitate to act quickly.

Yeonjun twists out of her grip in a flash, and has the girl pinned to the ground in an instant. Her cheek is against the concrete and her arms are bent back behind her, knife abandoned on the ground. An angry groan leaves her lips as she kicks her legs, and Yeonjun knows if looks could kill, they would all be dead.

“Now that that’s sorted.” Yeonjun groans, motioning for Soobin to grab her knife. The taller boy snatches it up off the ground before walking forward and pressing the heel of his boot against the girl’s lower back. She lets out a moan in pain before glaring up at him.

“I swear to god I’ll kill you.” She seethes, breathing shakily.

“Sure sweetheart,” Soobin rolls his eyes, giving Yeonjun a grin, “But it looks like we’re in charge now. And the question I wanna know is. . .”

Soobin pauses, lips inching up into a smirk now. Yeonjun mirrors his expression.

“Just who do you think you are?”

A/N: PLS ignore any mistakes there may be - it’s 1 am and I haven’t proof read, lol. Enjoy!!!

[yadds]

What would happen if Tony just suddenly reappeared at the Avengers compound and the first person to see him is Peter, who’s still haunted by Beck’s reality bending?

__________________________________________

Three years after the final snap, Tony suddenly appeared outside the Avengers Compound, disoriented and weak but alive. He wandered into the nearest building, having to stop every few steps to breathe and clear the white spots from his vision, chest heaving. When he’d regained his bearings enough to look around him, he realized he was in the common area for the Avengers.

He released a sigh of relief. “Fri, what the hell happened?” he rasped.

He frowned when nothing but silence met his inquiry. Something wasn’t right.

He scrutinized his surroundings closer. It was similar to the compound he knew but not quite the same.

He staggered, hands gripping the back of the couch tightly as he was bombarded with images of the smoking ruins of buildings surrounded by scorched earth.

Right. Thanos and his cronies ensured that a redesign would be necessary. And apparently whoever was in charge of the rebuild either scrapped his baby girl or couldn’t figure out how to coax her into running their buildings for them without Tony’s brilliance.

Well, it appeared that this was once again Avengers HQ so this should be as safe a place as any to be until he figured out what was going on. He hoped.

Right now, he was willing to risk just about anything for a glass of water and the sight of the refrigerator across the room was too tempting. He shuffled across the room, leaning heavily on furniture and walls along the way.

He reached for a cup from the cabinet, but his shaking hands couldn’t maintain a grip, sending two glasses plummeting to shatter on the floor at his feet. Falling forward, he rested his forehead against the cool metal of the fridge and tried to hold back the frustrated tears crowding behind his eyes.

He heard footsteps padding into the kitchen but didn’t have the energy to turn around. If it was an enemy, they could just kill him at this point for all he cared.

That resolve was quickly tested when he heard the footsteps stop abruptly before he was suddenly hauled into the air and thrown against the wall next to him, an iron grip around his neck.

His eyes wide and heart about to leap out of his throat, it took him a minute to recognize who had him captured. Peter.

His muscles relaxed as much as was possible with adrenaline overflowing his system while still being pinned down by a superhuman.

If he was expecting the same reaction from Peter, he was gravely mistaken.

“Who the fuck are you?” Peter snarled, eyes flinty and mouth a tight line.

Tony’s hands were coming up, open-palmed in the universal sign of ‘I’m not a threat’ but they were webbed in place before they moved more than a couple inches.

“Well this brings back fond memories,” Tony joked weakly. Fight or flight brought out either life-saving genius or the stupid and snarky in him. Obviously this was a case of the latter.

Peter’s face twisted, grasp tightening around Tony’s neck. “What do you mean?”

Tony wheezed, wishing he could tap on Peter’s arm, something like real fear creeping through his veins. He’d always known Peter was among the most powerful of all of them, but his sweet temperament, even in the worst situations, made that easy to forget. There was nothing sweet about this hard creature in front of him, all rough edges, bared teeth, and corded muscle.

When it was obvious that Peter expected an answer, Tony let out a few pointed coughs, eyes darting down to the hand nearly cutting off his air supply.

When it loosened, infinitesimally but enough that he could speak, he answered, “When we met the first time, you webbed my hand to the door when I tried to leave,” he croaked.

Peter pulled him away from the wall just to slam him against it again. “How do you know that?” He growled, eyes wild.

“What do you mean how do I know? I was there, you idiot! I had that stupid webbing stuck on my hand for two hours!” Tony babbled, hysteria building.

Peter’s grip slackened but didn’t completely release. Tony could feel the fine tremors traveling from Peter’s hands into the thin skin behind his jaw.

“Something else. Tell me something else only you would know,” Peter commanded.

“What? There’s a lot that I know that no one else does. One particular item apparently seems to be how to get my AI integrated into this building.”

Peter wasn’t amused. “I’m not playing around, asshole. You have thirty seconds to tell me something to prove your identity or I’m gonna snap your neck.”

Okay. There was some motivation. Tony’s mind was racing, but mostly in useless circles, everything still cloudy and sluggish. He continued to latch on to their early interactions. “After we got back from Berlin, I did a video to show to your aunt and in one of the outtakes I made a comment about her wearing something skimpy. You didn’t think it was near as funny as I did,” Tony said quickly.

“That was on video. Easily hacked and found by someone else,” Peter dismissed immediately.

“I-I don’t,” Tony stuttered, panic setting in.

“I’m losing patience,” Peter warned, eyes narrowed.

“Just wait! I-I’m trying to-“ Peter’s finger brushed against Tony’s carotid. “Titan!” he shouted.

Peter’s whole body froze. “We were on Titan and you were the last one to disappear. You begged me not to let you go, to make it stop, but I couldn’t, I failed, and you-you died in my arms and I was left there alone and I never got to tell you how fucking sorry I am for dragging you into all this bullshit, for not protecting you and-“ Tony hoped that was enough because he physically couldn’t push any more words past the familiar mass of guilt that took the place of Peter’s suddenly absent hand in stealing his ability to breathe.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter breathed. Tony looked up to see Peter staring at him cautiously. Seeing him with eyes wide and hair rumpled, looking so suddenly, vulnerably young was jarring after the cold-blooded killer act.

“Hey, kid,” Tony responded hoarsely, knees buckling as he crashed to the floor, hands still stuck to the wall.

__________________________________________

Bruh. This was again supposed to be a start of a prompt that I wanted to just fill in a quick one shot, but this initial intro part keeps coming out much more involved than the single paragraph I plan for. 🤷🏻‍♀️ At least this version is much less intense/angsty than what I came up with a few days ago.

Hoping to continue this though and finally get into my original idea

Now with a Part 2! 

[whereisten]

Gentle Monsters

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 Preview | Part 6 (End)

Summary: After a night of running from a wild animal, you meet Johnny, the owner of the conservatory greenhouse you accidentally broke into. Johnny is kind and sweet—a little too sweet.

Genre and Warnings: angst, horror, fluff, violence, smut (fingering, unprotected sex), profanity, mentions of murder, death, blood, manipulation

Word Count: 6.4K

————————————

“How did you know I was here?” You asked Johnny, who only held his head down to avoid looking you in the eyes.

“I recognized your scent the moment you stepped in.” Johnny walked closer to you quickly and held your arm.

“Come with me to the gazebo, we can talk there again..” he searched your watery eyes for confirmation, but you shook your head.

“I don’t want to go to the fucking gazebo, tell me what’s going on right now!” You pulled away from him.

He sighed and closed his eyes. “Please...y/n...I can’t allow anyone else to hear what I’m gonna say to you.”

He took your hand and led you to the gazebo that the two of you once spoke in. Only this time, it was raining.

The sky and the conservatory were dark and gloomy, a perfect representation for how you currently felt about your relationship with Johnny.

“I’m—not normal..y/n” Johnny watched your hand as you angrily pulled it out of his own.

“What the hell does that mean?” You asked, but really, deep down you already knew this. You tried to ignore it for the past two months, but the events of that night always came back to haunt you.

“I’m cursed..So you know how in folklore there are vampires, witches, and ghosts?” Johnny paused and looked up at you.

You nodded while wearing a look of confusion.

“Well..there are creatures called lycanthropes..more commonly known as werewolves. What you saw that night..that was real..it was a werewolf.” Johnny waited for your response.

“I...am one.”

You stepped back. “...no.”

Johnny held out his hands to pull you closer to him and shook his head. “Please..don’t be afraid of me.”

“You told me it wasn’t you! You told me the monster wasn’t real! And I believed you, like an idiot, I believed you because you were sweet and kind!” You shouted while tears rolled down your cheeks.

“And I told you the truth, y/n! The werewolf that chased you that night wasn’t me, please believe me! I’d never hurt you!” Johnny walked up to you as you continued to back away.

“You killed...them...you killed them oh my God.” You looked on the floor as it all started to come together.

“No! It wasn’t me, I promise, I’d never lie to you! And Jaehyun isn’t my real brother, we’re in the same pack! I’m his alpha, but he’s trying to get rid of me.”

You felt the harsh thud of a wooden pole against your back. You couldn’t back away anymore, you could only look up at the man that towered over you.

There was no where for you to go.

He held your arms. “Y/n...believe me..please, I don’t know who it was..they had a human cover their tracks in wolfsbane.”

You shuddered under him. You couldn’t trust anything he said. “You made me feel like I was crazy, like I was hallucinating. But you knew that what I saw was real! I don’t trust or believe you. Get away from me!” You pushed his chest but he didn’t budge an inch.

You continued to beat his chest with your fists but he didn’t move. His steady pecs took every hit like it was nothing.

“Y/n...y/n..please” Johnny finally grabbed your wrists to halt your tantrum.

“Don’t do this.”

“I never want to see you again, let me go.” You cried as Johnny’s eyes started to water as well.

“You don’t mean that.” He whispered, but his grip on your wrists tightened.

“Please, don’t leave me.”

“Ow!” You tried to pull out of his iron grip.

“Tell me you’ll stay.” Johnny begged as you tried to wiggle out. You swore you’d have an imprint of Johnny’s long fingers on your skin with the way he held you tightly.

“Johnny! You’re hurting me!” You looked up at him.

He opened his mouth and gave a somber look. But nothing came out. He released you and backed away.

You held your wrists and looked down at the red marks on your skin. “What the hell, Johnny?”

He looked at you and stepped forward to comfort you, but you ran out of the gazebo and into the rain.

He ran after you. “Y/n...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you!” His superhuman speed allowed him to quickly catch up to you and spin you around.

You hated feeling his touch, and on impulse you slapped him. “Just like you didn’t mean to kill them, right? Just like you didn’t mean to lie to me, right?”

Johnny stayed still, he focused on calming the low growl in his chest, the one that came from the infuriated animal within him.

His face was still turned in the direction of where you slapped him. He breathed heavily and clenched his jaw.

His hair was soaking wet from the rain now and his eyebrows and eyelashes were even darker than before. His dripping black shirt clung to his abs.

“I mean it when I say I never want to see you again.” You walked away and left Johnny.

He looked up and watched as you ran away towards the city. He couldn’t blame you for being upset. He did lie to you, it was only because he wanted you to feel safe. But now, he lost you.

——————

You closed your door and turned your back to it. The walk home was long and tiring, the rain subsided a bit but you were still soaking wet. Fortunately, you eventually stopped crying. How could everything go so wrong? How could he deceive you like this?

You looked at your phone and saw a text from Elaine.

Elaine: bar is still a mess, it’ll stay closed until further notice.

You locked your phone and walked to your room before throwing your bag down.

You changed into dry clothes and plopped down into your bed before exhaling loudly.

You turned over on your back and stared at the ceiling before drifting off into sleep, never noticing the pair of red eyes that watched you from the corner of the room.

You started to dream of random things; days on the job before everything happened, you saw your smiling boss and your laughing coworkers. You smelled the beer and felt the sticky countertop at your fingertips.

Then suddenly, you were back in your dark bedroom. You stepped forward and saw a man sitting on the bed beside the dimly lit lamp on your nightstand. You initially thought it was Johnny and felt your heart begin to race.

“W-Who are you?” You asked.

“I’m whoever you want me to be.” The voice said smoothly. His voice felt warm as it flowed into your ears. You were drawn to him.

You walked closer and stood over him now. “Jaehyun?” You furrowed your brows. “Why are you here?”

He stood up and looked down at you through dark eyes. His cheekbones stuck out in the shadows of the warm light. His lips turned upward as he watched you under him.

He was so close to you, you could feel his warm breath on your neck and collarbone but you didn’t back away. You batted your lashes and breathed heavily as he held your waist and pulled you even closer.

You didn’t know why you felt the urge to wrap your arms around his neck as he nuzzled his face into your own, but you did anyway. It felt wrong. It felt...strange. But his control over you was unbreakable. It was like you forgot about everything when he was around you. You wanted to give in.

He sat down on your bed again and pulled you to sit on his lap. He gripped your thighs and started to massage his fingers into them while kissing your neck down to your cleavage.

You gasped at the feeling of his soft lips on your skin and felt your heat growing under you.

You both breathed heavily as you felt him grow under you as well. He kissed your jaw and leaned forward so that he could nibble on your ear. “Let’s finish what we started in the shower.” He whispered, sending chills up your spine.

The shower.

It all came back to you. This wasn’t the first time you dreamt about Jaehyun.

You pulled away and searched his seductive eyes. “Why do you keep doing this to me? H-how do you keep doing this to me?”

Jaehyun bit his lips and smiled. “This is what you want. I’m just allowing your dreams to come true.”

“No—no this isn’t what I want.” You stood up and backed away from him.

He sighed and stood up.

“You’re just like him! How do I know you’re not the one that killed those people?” You stared at Jaehyun who only smirked.

“You don’t know. But that’s the fun part.” Jaehyun ran a hand through his hair, making him look even more irresistible than he already did.

“Maybe Johnny lied, maybe Johnny told the truth” he shrugged before continuing. “It doesn’t really matter, babe. I’ll be the only alpha after all this.”

He stepped closer to you.

“What matters is that you stay away from him..at all costs.” Jaehyun’s playful smirk disappeared now. He gave you a stern glance and tightly closed his lips.

“And if I don’t?” You asked.

Jaehyun chuckled and lightly dragged a sharp nail down the side of your face. If he applied a bit of pressure, his nail would’ve punctured your skin like a shiny nail punctures a tire.

“Such nice skin you have.” He eyed you up and down and bit his lips. “Little to no imperfections. It’d be a shame if that were to change.”

He looked at your eyes and smiled wickedly.

You inhaled sharply and jumped up in your bed.

What if Johnny did tell the truth? What if it was Jaehyun that chased you that night? Was Johnny only trying to protect you? How did Jaehyun keep entering your dreams? Why did Jaehyun mention that he’d be the alpha?

You had so many questions and while you wanted to run to Johnny for help, you still weren’t sure if you could trust him.

Then, you remembered a book that you glanced over at the bookstore earlier.

6:45 PM, I still have time to go there again.

You jumped up and ran down to the new bookstore.

——————

The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Werewolves

You finally decided that it’d be best to do some research of your own and to find out more about these creatures you once thought were fictional.

You sat down at a table and opened the intimidating book.

A year ago, you would’ve laughed your ass off once you saw a book like this. But after seeing the things you’ve seen, you knew that this was no laughing matter, that werewolves were actually very very real.

You flipped the pages and found a section on the different abilities that werewolves can have.

They all seemed pretty self explanatory, superhuman strength, super speed, claws, healing, etc. but there was one ability that stuck out to you.

Telepathy- can read minds, hear thoughts and sense emotions. More advanced alpha’s can even manipulate thoughts and dreams through telepathy.

Your eyes widened. This was how Jaehyun kept entering your dreams. He was manipulating you. Not only did he force you to dream of him, he forced you to have nightmares of Johnny that painted him as the villain the entire time.

You believed Johnny was the killer because Jaehyun wanted you to. He wanted you to fear Johnny so that you’d stay away from him.

You flipped through and read up on the hierarchy system in werewolf packs.

Only one alpha per pack. They are rarely challenged, but a beta can gain more power if they develop new abilities.

You continued reading.

An alpha must control the amount of murders committed by the pack or they break the laws of nature. In this case, if the number of killings gets out of hand, the alpha can be overtaken by a stronger beta or an entire pack that feels that he can no longer fulfill his duties.

You remembered how Johnny told you he was the alpha of the pack. If Jaehyun was trying to take his spot, he’d want to weaken him, right? Jaehyun knew that by taking you away from Johnny, Johnny would become weak and broken, just in time for Jaehyun to take over with his increased strength and multiple abilities.

Jaehyun killed innocent people because he wanted to become more powerful.

You put the book down and placed your head on the table.

“Fuck.” You clenched your hands into fists and felt your chest tighten. You felt terrible for accusing Johnny, again. You even slapped him.

He was trying to tell you the truth but you shut him out. He was only trying to protect you. He was always there for you when you needed him and you treated him like shit. You had to go make things right.

You ran up to your apartment and into your bedroom. You swapped your sandals for sneakers but stopped when you felt a presence behind you.

You quickly spun around and faced the person.

“Why didn’t you just ask me?” Jaehyun tilted his head and smirked that annoying ass smirk again. For once, you weren’t seeing him in a dream, no, he was really in the room with you.

“Do you EVER go away?” You snarled as you pushed past him.

“I know what you’re thinking but you’re not correct.” Jaehyun followed behind you while you grabbed your backpack and threw it over your shoulder, you turned to him.

“Get out of my head, Jaehyun. I know you’re a power hungry animal that killed innocent people. I know that you’re only using me to hurt Johnny. This game you’re playing is over.” You turned to leave but Jaehyun quickly blocked the door. You realized that he also had super speed. Was he already more powerful than Johnny?

“I can’t let you do that.” Jaehyun crossed his arms and looked at you through glowing red eyes. You shivered at the sight. You remembered that night. The same eyes that watched you as you ran for your life.

“Or what? You gonna kill me too?” You shook off your fear and face him.

“you’ve been terrorizing me for weeks. If you wanna hurt Johnny by killing me, then just do it!”

You gripped the strap of your backpack, and waited for his response.

He only laughed and looked at you, his eyes still glowing.

He stepped forward and grabbed your waist. He leaned down to your ear and whispered. “You act like you’re brave but I can smell your fear, I can hear your racing heartbeat..I can feel the adrenaline pumping through your beautiful veins. You’re naive for trying to save him from his inevitable demise.” Jaehyun’s velvety voice echoed in your head as he pulled back and looked down at you. You trembled at his close proximity and the feeling of his sharp nails in your side.

“Tell Johnny I say ‘hi’.” Jaehyun said before dragging a claw down your back. You screamed out in pain as he scratched you. His three nails felt like a hundred needles running down your back simultaneously.

You bent over and cried out in pain. Your entire back was on fire. “Ah! Fuck you, you asshole!” You looked up but there was no one there. He was gone.

The excruciating pain of the scratch radiated throughout your entire body, it was like he had dipped his nails in poison and the poison had entered your blood stream.

There’s only one person that could help you. And you had to get to him fast.

————

You jumped out of your Uber and ran to stand under the covering in front of Johnny’s door. The rain didn’t let up, it only poured down harder as the thunder shook the lamp posts and lightning illuminated the dark purple sky.

You knocked on Johnny’s door and waited for him to answer. You had never been inside his house, but you knew it was the only house close to the conservatory.

A minute had passed and still no answer.

You knocked again.

There was a light on, so you knew that someone was home.

“Johnny...it’s me..I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you.” You yelled over the pestering rain that hit the roof and windows of the large house.

“Please..forgive me. You don’t have to let me in. But I want you to know that I am so sorry.” You sighed and waited for the door to open and reveal the bright face of the man you adored. But he didn’t open it.

You winced at the pain that seemed to grow in accordance with your fleeting hope that Johnny would open his door and welcome you in.

“Also...that asshole, Jaehyun, scratched my back and..it hurts like hell.”

You waited a few more minutes and held your head down. “Okay, I’ll leave.” And as you turned to step off his porch, you heard the door open.

You turned back to see Johnny standing there in a white t-shirt and boxers. His hair was pushed back out of his beautiful face and his eyes were sad. He pursed his lips.

“Hi.” He said quietly.

You walked up to him quickly. “Johnny, I’m so sorry, you were right..” you winced again. “It was Jaehyun. I’m sorry for ever thinking it was you.” You looked up at him through large eyes, hoping that he’d take you in his arms and hug you tightly.

“What did he do to you?” Johnny furrowed his brows.

“He..scratched me.” You said through teary eyes. Johnny quickly grabbed your wrist and took you inside.

“Shit. Come with me, now” He muttered and led you into his house. It was larger than you thought.

He led you up a grand staircase and to one of the rooms.

When he opened the door to the large room, you gasped. It was beautiful. The walls were lined with medieval art and the golden bed was covered in a dark red, silky comforter and sheets. A matching red lace canopy draped over it.

There was a velvet covered lounge chair at the foot of the bed. Johnny pointed to it. “Lay on your stomach.”

You took of the jacket you wore to prevent any staining on the Uber’s car seats. You laid down and waited as Johnny ran to another room. He quickly came back with a bottle of dark liquid.

“I’m..gonna have to take off your shirt.” Johnny hesitantly stepped towards you.

You took your shirt off and threw it to the floor, then took off what was left of the bra that Jaehyun had ripped through. “I don’t care..please..just help me.” You cried out.

Johnny looked on your scarred and bloody back and teared up. “I’m sorry, this is all my fault.”

“No, Johnny. There’s only one man to blame for this.” You turned your head so that you could look at him. His sorrowful expression made your heart break.

He poured some of the liquid on your back. You hissed at the tingling sensation that the cold liquid brought your body, but it soon eased some of the pain.

Johnny kneeled down and placed both hands on your back and rubbed circles around each of the three scars. He closed his eyes and focused.

You heard and felt your torn tissue and skin closing. You realized that Johnny has the ability to heal. Of course he did. Now you understood why he never had dying flowers or plants, why everything in his conservatory was always full of life.

Your heartbeat slowed down to its regular tempo as the pain subsided. “Thank you, Johnny.”

“There will be permanent scars. A scratch from a werewolf is like a marking. He did this for me to see it every time I look at you.” Johnny stood up and turned his back to you as he held his head down.

He walked out, but soon came back with a wet towel and a small bowl with water.

“I wish this never happened. I should’ve protected you.” A tear ran down Johnny’s cheek as he kneeled down again and wiped away the blood that covered most of your back.

“Hey. It’s okay. There’s nothing we could’ve done. He will stop at nothing to hurt you, Johnny” you held his arm.

Johnny gave you a small smile, you were so worried for him, he knew you still cared for him.

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“I know...I won’t let him hurt you anymore. You have nothing to do with this.”

He looked down at the floor. His glowing and skin radiated through the dull lighting of the warm room. His deep brown eyes were calm and his delicate lips donned a soft pinky shade.

He was gorgeous and everything you wanted, you couldn’t hold back any longer. You held his face and pulled it towards yours.

You closed your eyes and kissed him softly, turning your head and sticking out your tongue for entrance. He opened his mouth and let you explore while his hand held your back smoothly.

He brought his chest closer while you sat up,?still kissing him gingerly. He pressed your back so that your chest molded into his.

You breathed heavily as he held your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your hands fell from his face and held his back. You ran your delicate hands over the scars you felt while he sucked the warm skin on your neck between his moist lips.

He then lowered his head to your chest and took one of your nipples into his mouth, circling his hot tongue around the dainty and hard point. You let your head fall back and sighed out his name. “Johnny...”

His large hands massaged your breasts as you felt yourself grow wet in your jeans. You looked down and watched the man in between your legs. His broad shoulders and his strong arms held you close while you slowly fell apart for him.

He looked up at you through dark eyes while fervently licking around your other nipple. You closed your eyes and cried out quietly.

His hands ran up your sides and his thumbs pressed into your breasts, making sure to massage them as he continued to suck and lick your nipples.

You couldn’t take much more of his teasing.

“Johnny..” You moaned out and leaned down to lift his shirt over his head.

Once you did that, he picked you up and carried you over to the bed, gently placing you down on the cold and silky sheets.

You kicked off your sneakers and laid back. You watched through hooded eyes as he carefully unbuttoned your jeans and slid them off.

He looked up at you and waited for you to give him permission. You quickly nodded and continued to watch as he smirked and dragged your panties down slowly.

He licked his lips as you hissed at the cold air that hit your exposed entrance.

Johnny took his boxers off as he watched your chest rise and fall. He felt himself grow at the sound of your increasing heart beat and the rosey smell of your pulp skin and wet womanhood.

You were so beautiful to him. He held himself over you and looked into your large eyes and parted his mouth slightly. “I think I love you.”

He let out in a soft and deep voice that made butterflies go wild in your chest and stomach. He wasn’t supposed to say that out loud, but he couldn’t hold it in.

“I’m sor—“ he started but you stopped him.

You smiled and pulled him down to kiss you. When you pulled away, you saw his goofy smile and eyes crinkle. “I think I love you too.”

He kissed your lips again, your tongues happily danced around each other. His fingers worked their way into you, gently circling around your bud. He pushed them in as you moaned under him.

He kissed your jaw and neck while moving his fingers in and out easily. His thumb continued to rub small circles and his other hand massaged your breast.

“Johnny..take me..please” your doe eyes made him weak.

“I don’t have protection.” He whispered.

“I don’t care..” You started without actually thinking it through. But the truth was you really didn’t care. You wanted Johnny to make love to you for the longest time before this night, and now, with the feeling of the silk sheets under your hot bodies and his long fingers moving in and out while coated in your juices, you couldn’t resist.

He was everything and more. A kind, gentle and gorgeous man. Regardless of the curse he had, he made you feel safe and warm.

He couldn’t control his circumstances and you knew he wouldn’t hurt you, he would do everything to protect you, even if that meant giving up his title as alpha.

“We can stop if you want to.” Johnny stopped moving his hand and looked into your eyes.

“No—no, don’t stop.” You held his arm and caressed it with your thumb while nodding.

Johnny smiled. “Okay, anything for you, baby.” He held his member, gently stroking it. He gripped your hip with his other hand and pushed in slowly, giving you time to adjust.

You moaned and fell back into the plush bed under you. You wiggled and shifted your legs to give yourself more comfort before nodding to tell him to continue.

He pushed the rest of his long length into you and kissed your neck as he did.

You closed your eyes and felt him move his hips, pushing in and out of you slowly and delicately. He was always so gentle with you. It was like you were fragile goods in his large hands.

Your eyes opened when you felt him pull away. The cold air from the separation hit your chest unexpectedly. He just wanted to see you, to see you writhe under him and moan out his name.

He watched himself disappear into your beautiful body while your hands gripped the shiny, red sheets under you as you struggled to hold onto your sanity.

You watched his arms and abs as they formed small balls of sweat. His muscular arms flexed and his large, strong hands gripped your thighs and used them as an anchor as he dug himself into you over and over. You licked your lips at the sight and felt yourself nearing your climax.

He groaned as he felt your walls around tighten around him every time he pushed into you. It was even better than he imagined, he had to do everything in his power to hold back the animalistic nature of his other self that wanted to go faster..and harder.

The animal in him wanted to fuck you roughly, but Johnny didn’t.

Instead, he held both ankles and brought them up around his neck. The new position made you throw your head back.

“Johnny..yes” you whined loudly as you felt his length push into you at a different angle.

His pace increased and his hair stuck o his forehead as pushed into you harder.

You felt the skin from his hips hit yours as he lowered himself and kissed your collarbone.

You moaned and shut your eyes tightly at the feeling of his pillowy lips and teeth sucking small marks on your hot skin.

“Johnny...I’m gonna—“ you started breathily.

He groaned and sent a low vibration through your skin. “I know..me too.” He pushed faster and used his thumb to rub circles around your bud again. You moaned as you stretched around him.

“Ahh! Don’t stop.” You ran your hands down Johnny’s back and pressed him into you so that his length could go even deeper into your aching core.

Johnny groaned the sexiest sound you ever heard when you clenched around him. He went faster, so fast you weren’t sure when he was pushing or pulling anymore. The speed at which he went wasn’t humanly possible. All you knew was that this speed gave you multiple, tiny vibrations in your core that pushed you to the edge.

He buried his face into your chest and breathed heavily, panting as his orgasm drew close.

He thrusted into you with more pressure, roughly pushing your body down into the bed with every movement. You swore you heard a low growl escape his mouth.

You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. You cried out loudly after every push. “Johnny!” You cried out and felt your body tremble under him. Johnny then climaxed, he still moved to allow you to both ride your orgasm out, but his pace slowed after he came inside you.

He pulled out and fell down beside your weak body. You both breathed heavily and turned to face each other.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve-“ Johnny started.

You ran your hand through his hair, pushing it out of his forehead. You smiled. “It’s okay. I don’t care.”

Johnny smiled and leaned forward to kiss you. Everything he did was perfect. You couldn’t be happier to be with him. All you needed was him and all he needed was you. You thought the problems you faced were over, but what you didn’t realize was you gave him exactly what he wanted and the problems were only just beginning.

——————

The next day, you woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon.

You opened one eye and squinted at the bright light that poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. When you looked around and saw the red sheets and canopy above you, you realized that you weren’t in your bedroom.

You looked around for Johnny, but couldn’t find him so you sat up in the bed, dragging the red sheets over your naked body.

You looked around the room for a dresser, anything that might have clothes in it.

You walked to a closet and opened it. There were T-shirt’s neatly folded and tucked in a container inside, you grabbed one and threw it over your head. You smiled at the scent of Johnny’s woodsy cologne in his t shirt.

In the drawer under that one, you found folded boxers. You took one and wiggled into it.

You ran downstairs towards the smell and found Johnny in the kitchen. His bare and broad back faced you as he flipped a pancake with one hand and was lightly shaking a sizzling pan of bacon with the other.

He looked so good, you bit your lips and walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“That smells good” you hugged his back.

He laughed. “Good morning to you too!”

You giggled. “How do you do that? I can’t even fry bacon without being at least five feet away.”

“Well, you’re not a master chef like me.. that’s probably why. It’s a gift you have to be born with. You can’t just “get” finesse like this, baby.” Johnny placed the pans down as he turned to you and winked.

His soft hair now fell in his forehead, making him look adorable but still so handsome.

You scoffed. “You’re such a dork. No one even says ‘finesse’ anymore..”

He smirked as he looked down at you in his oversized T shirt and boxers. Your radiant skin showed brightly in the sunlight that poured through his windows.

Your eyes were bright and happy, he loved seeing you like this. The way your lips curved at the corners when you smiled and laughed, the sound of your giggle, the way you batted your lashes and stared through doe eyes, it all made him weak.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” Johnny smiled and picked you up before taking you over to the kitchen island and placing you down to sit on it.

Your legs still around his waist, he held your face and kissed you deeply. You moaned as you felt his tongue on yours again, a feeling you never grew tired of.

You ran a hand through his thick hair and leaned forward.

He pulled away to breathe and you licked your lips. “Mmm...Johnny.”

Your rubbed your hands over his flexed arms and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“I can’t stop thinking about you...” you pulled yourself closer so there was no space between his growing member and the thin fabric that covered you slit.

“I want to feel you again..all of you.” You seductively whispered. His breathing grew short as you continued your dirty talk. You moved your hip up and down so that his tip ran against your clothed slit.

“I want you to make love to me..hard..ruin me, don’t hold back..” you kissed his ear and pulled away.

He bit his lips before kissing you again. “Anything for you, baby.”

You nodded. “Good...but master chef..”

Johnny still looked at you through wide eyes and an excited expression. You felt him gorwing in between your legs.

You liked messing with him and getting him all worked up, so you leaned forward again and whispered “You pancake is burning.”

He jumped up and let you go before turning to the pans and quickly flipped the pancake onto a plate he set aside. You burst out laughing at the look of panic on his face. “Are you enjoying this? Such a naughty girl, come here.” Johnny grabbed the bowl of pancake mix and dipped his finger into it. You gasped. “Nope! No...don’t even think about it.” You laughed and jumped off the island, running to the other side. He ran after you while holding the bowl. You both ran around the kitchen island, but once he cornered you, he dance around you with his finger in the air before booping your nose to leave some mix on it. “Ah!” You cried out. You both laughed before kissing one last time before breakfast. —————— [3 months later] “You’re losing, Johnny, when I pass, Jaehyun will have full control over the pack.” The old man’s loud and husky voice rumbled through the large and dark abandoned church. The dome shape allowed his voice to echo. The pale old man’s face of disappointment was only lit up by the moonlight that peaked through the holes in the broken down building. “Father, please trust me. I will not disappoint you.” Johnny kneeled on one knee and held his head down when he spoke to his pure blood alpha father. Luckily, it was just the three of them. Johnny, Jaehyun, and Johnny’s father. The rest of the pack had left the emergency meeting ten minutes earlier. The meeting was held because two more gruesome murders had occurred in the last week. The only explanation for how the bodies were torn apart would be that they were hunted and murdered by werewolves. 

Johnny was still unable to detect which member or members of his pack were committing these crimes. No matter how much he threatened everyone, the murderer wouldn’t step forward. His father was old and ill, and could no longer fulfill his duties as the alpha. He gave his power to Johnny, but Johnny was unable to keep the laws of nature balanced. If he couldn’t control his packs murderous tendencies, he certainly couldn’t remain the alpha. He knew that the killer was Jaehyun, but he had no proof. Every day, Jaehyun grew more and more powerful and became a threat to Johnny. He already fought him for scarring you, but Jaehyun only lost that fight by chance. If it weren’t for the small bit of strength Johnny still had over Jaehyun, he would’ve won. Johnny never let you know that you fought, but you could tell from the knew scars Johnny had on his biceps. “And what do you plan to do?! How will you save this pack?! I was a fool for thinking someone like you could handle this!” Johnny’s father yelled before clutching his chest and leaning back into the stone throne he sat in. Jaehyun looked over at Johnny and smirked. He knew that he was getting closer and closer to winning, and once Johnny was removed as the alpha, he would be killed by the new alpha, Jaehyun. See, an alpha can’t just lose their position..they have to be killed for their incompetence, it was just the way packs worked. “Father..a new alpha will be born, your bloodline will continue.” Johnny spat out. Johnny knew that, unlike Jaehyun, he couldn’t murder innocent people to gain strength and new abilities, but he did know that producing a new pure blood werewolf to continue his bloodline would guarantee his position as the alpha and his life. The power he would gain from the birth of his child would be indisputable and unchallenged by the pack. Jaehyun clenched his jaw. He knew this was Johnny’s plan. He knew you were just a part of it, and no matter how hard he tried to scare you into staying away from Johnny, you still went to him. Johnny would become an alpha with the highest power. Alphas like this are stronger and more able to lead the pack because they have risked their own life and contributed their bloodline to strengthen the pack. “I certainly hope this is the case. It’d be a shame for this pack to have to bury two alphas at the same God damn time!.” Johnny’s father stood up and grabbed his cane before walking past Johnny who still held his head down. His tall caretaker went up to him and held the brittle man while he walked to the black and tinted Cadillac outside of the church. Johnny stood up and brushed off his jeans before turning to Jaehyun. “And I thought I was the asshole.” Jaehyun smirked. “Pretending to love a girl just so that she can give birth to your werewolf baby? That’s..crazy.” Johnny clenched his jaw. “Whether or not I love her is none of your business. Unfortunately for her, things had to work out this way.” Jaehyun placed his hands over his chest and laughed. “Oh! How sweet. Johnny’s in love” he teased Johnny. He rolled his eyes. “You do know that her chance of surviving the birthing is like...zero, right?” “Fuck off, Jaehyun. She’ll be okay.” Johnny spat back and turned to leave, he couldn’t stand to be around him any longer. “The naive girl loves you and here she is, risking her life for a man that doesn’t love her back.” Jaehyun continued as Johnny walked away. “You’re using her because you’re a coward.You were never meant to be alpha!” Johnny spun around and rushed over to Jaehyun. In the blink of an eye, he stood over Jaehyun and held his throat, his sharp nails digging into it. Jaehyun held his wrist to try to pull him away, but in his fury and rage, Johnny was much stronger and tightened his hand so that Jaehyun couldn’t breathe. “Stop testing me..” Johnny looked down at Jaehyun as he gagged and choked for air. His piercing eyes were a stronger red than Jaehyun’s. He rarely got like this, but Jaehyun was really testing his patience. He always seemed to forget that Johnny was stronger and faster. Jaehyun’s eyes fluttered shut as he struggled to stay alive. Johnny released him and walked away.

Jaehyun rubbed his throat and started to laugh. Johnny didn’t know if he truly loved you or not. But he knew that he had to focus on making his father proud before he died..even if that meant losing you. a/n: WHEW...ok so like, Johnny is not like this at all, but i just love making him..a little evil >:) hope you guys like it!

[theprodigypenguin]

89 Jegulus

89: “I didn’t know you could sing.”

I was hoping I’d get an excuse to write about my headcanon of Regulus having the voice of a fucking angel, so thank you very much anon. I’ve been thinking about how to write this lil fic ALL day and it ended up being waaaay longer than I planned, whoops. Enjoy!

James had never felt so betrayed before in his life as he kicked at the grass he was walking across, hands shoved into his pockets and head ducked as he made his way across the field of grass and down towards Black Lake. He was currently alone, which almost never happened, but for the next hour Peter, Remus, and Sirius were all serving detentions. James hadn’t even realized he was the odd man out until he was suddenly standing alone in the hall watching Sirius get dragged away towards the trophy hall, looking miserable. James had turned to quip at Remus how reckless Sirius was and “he should definitely follow my lead more”, but Remus wasn’t next to him, and neither was Peter. How was it James could be so used to having them next to him, he doesn’t even realize if they aren’t there, because where else would they possibly be?

So he had an hour to spare, sighing in boredom as he reached the edge of the lake and stared out over it, slouching his shoulders and trying to decide how to pass the time when an unexpected sound broke through the sound of the lake water lapping against the pebbles around James’ shoes. Music, he realized. Someone was singing, and it was such a smooth, haunting voice that James almost expected to see a ghost or a phantom. The voice singing was rich and made a shiver race down James’ back, distinctly male, and the lyrics were uttered like they were holy verses not meant for mortal ears.

James shuffled away from the edge of the lake, creeping as quietly as he could to the outcropping of trees that were hanging over the water, the roots twisted out of the ground and wrapping together, buried into the lake and deep into the bedrock below the surface of the water. The willow trees that had grown together had roots half in the water and half out, leaves and branches hanging like a veil to just brush the water and make it ripple. James did his best not to make a sound as he maneuvered over the protruding roots, climbing over them and reaching out to push aside the veil of hanging leaves so he could reach the closest tree trunk, then inched his way to the side, clinging to the bark as he peered around the wide trunk, stunned at who he found sitting there, hidden by the leaves and sitting on one of the large roots.

Regulus Black, of all people, was sitting with his heavy robes draped over the root next to him, leaving him in only his black trousers, shoes, white uniform button up shirt, and green and silver Slytherin tie that was hanging loosely around his neck. His sleeves had been folded back above his elbows, his bag sitting open at his feet and a book open on his lap, though he didn’t appear to be reading it. His black hair had been pushed out of his face and tied at the back of his head, though strands had fallen out of the tie and hung in front of his eyes, which seemed to be half closed. There was a rather small orange cat curled up on top of Regulus’ robes, the tip of its tail twitching and its eyes closed as it purred, lying against Regulus’ thigh as if listening to his voice; and he was singing.

James hadn’t spoken a word to Regulus since before the summer when Sirius had shown up at his door looking as if he’d been beaten within an inch of his life. It had been a while. James probably wouldn’t admit it out loud, especially to Sirius (he knew how sensitive a topic his family was), but James had been insanely worried about Regulus. If those people were willing to hurt Sirius the way they did, what was happening to Regulus now that his brother was gone? So he was rather pleased to see Regulus didn’t look unhealthy or injured in some way. In fact, James had never seen the younger Black look so relaxed before. Relaxed, yes, unharmed, fine, but the lyrics of the song he was singing as he turned the page in his book without looking at it hit James in a different way. Even while the melody was pleasant, the lyrics held a melancholy worthy of a Black, and it broke James’ heart.

He tried to look closer, shifting a bit, feeling his heel slip before his mind could register it, landing with a painful crash and grunting as he found himself somehow flipped, his legs tangled in tree roots, glasses falling off his face, robes flung around him. He was staring directly at Regulus, who’d stopped his serenade abruptly and was hugging his book to his chest with wide eyes locked on James as the ugly cat beside him hissed at the Gryffindor, who had elegantly slipped off his perch and was now lying on his back, halfway to being upside down, his head and back aching.

“Oh, um, hello there Regulus,” James greeted as casually as he could manage, offering a sheepish grin. “Fancy seeing you here, huh?”

Regulus scrambled onto his feet, grabbing his robes and his bag, shoving his book into his bag as the orange cat hopped gracefully off the root to follow as the Slytherin tried to put distance between himself and James, who was staggering and stumbling as he rolled onto his stomach and up onto his hands and knees.

“Wait! Hang on!” James was frantic as he lunged forward, grabbing Regulus by the arm before he could get through the veil of weeping willow leaves and branches, tugging him back a few steps before stopping as Regulus turned to give him a scalding glare.

For a moment James was frozen and unable to talk, he could still hear the sound of Regulus’ singing voice, the words burning into his brain like a hot iron leaving a permanent brand.

“What?!” Regulus yelled, and James blinked in response before managing to speak.

“I… I didn’t know you could sing.” Regulus looked even more annoyed, but his face had filled out with red from embarrassment and humiliation, ducking his head as if to make it easier. “I mean, Sirius can sing, super well in fact, but… I mean… this is a major compliment, but I think you’re even better than… him… you know?”

Regulus just glared at James. “Being compared to my brother isn’t a compliment, Potter.” He yanked his arm away from James’ grip, but didn’t leave the trees. In fact he stepped back over to the root he’d been sitting on before, dropping back onto it but not letting go of his things as the orange cat hopped up next to him, bumping its head into Regulus’ shoulder.

James motioned to it. “I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Regulus said, watching the ginger cat prod onto his lap, essentially kicking off the robes and the bag before flopping down, ears flicking.

“When did you get him?”

“I found him a few months ago,” James was surprised he actually answered, watching Regulus scratch behind the cat’s ears. “He was lost in the snow, I found him when I was at Hogsmeade.”

“You rescued him then.”

“Yes.”

“That’s really nice,” was all James could manage to say, and Regulus cast him yet another glare, flinching noticeably when James walked closer, sitting down on a lifted root a few feet away from Regulus. “So… what was that song you were singing?”

“Sod off, Potter.”

“I’m just curious. I liked it. Did you write it?”

Regulus turned his head to seeth at James, but although he was glaring and looked like he wanted to strangle him, his cheeks were bright red, and for a moment James had to struggle against a smile as his eyes went from Regulus to the ginger cat in his arms, both of them bristling similarly. Regulus was acting like a scorned cat, and honestly, it was pretty cute.

“I told you to sod off. Where the hell are my brother and the rest of your stupid friends? Go bother them!”

“Wish I could, Reggie,” James said in a sigh, leaning back with his hands on either side of him and tilting his head. “Those three all have detentions, so I’m on my own for the next forty minutes.”

“How is that my problem?”

“You just happened to be here, not my fault,” James argued, noting the way Regulus tensed up, jaw setting as he turned his head away and scowled. James tried to ease into his next statement, stretching his arms up. “Not that I mind of course. I’d rather have run into you here than someone else. I never get to talk to you, being in different houses, you know? When’s the last time we had a chat, huh?”

Regulus looked dumbfounded. “Do you mean never?”

“We’ve talked before-”

“When?” Regulus interrupted, looking furious. “Name one time you’ve ever willingly stopped to hold a conversation with me. Go ahead, one time.”

James watched Regulus quietly for a moment, the way he was hugging the little ugly orange cat and curling forward like he felt he was being attacked, trying to protect the most vulnerable pieces of himself, like his heart. Regulus looked on edge and overly cautious, clearly not trusting James to be so close, and it made him realize just how much Regulus must be hurting.

“Why are you alone?” James found himself asking. “You’re not with friends on your free period?”

Regulus looked momentarily exhausted before turning his head down, reaching up to stroke the ugly cat’s head. “No.”

“Why not? Are they in detention too?”

“I don’t have friends,” Regulus blurted, then a look of shock lifted his face, like he couldn’t believe he’d actually said that out loud, pressing his lips tightly together and hunching his shoulders more.

James could only stare for a moment, shaking his head. “No, that’s not true. You’re the Slytherin Seeker, you’re famous, I’ve heard tons of people praise you and say how cool you are. There’s always someone next to you talking to you.”

Regulus just shook his head, staring at the ground. “Having people following me around wanting to be my friend because of status or name is different than actually having friends.”

James felt uneasy. “So you’re telling me you’ve been completely on your own for the past few years, without a single friend?”

“Friends have come and gone, once they’ve gotten their fill of my draining presence,” Regulus drawled maybe a little too dramatically, looking up at the green canopy, “and I wasn’t supposed to be alone…”

James felt something like guilt at that last statement, seeing through the vague and unspoken truth that Regulus hadn’t actually said. He was never planning to be alone when he came to Hogwarts, that had never been the plan. He was supposed to have Sirius in Slytherin house with him. James felt guilty, because even if Regulus was in Slytherin house, he was still Sirius’ brother, and James loved Sirius, so why didn’t he try to help Regulus sooner?

It would have been only natural, right? James, Peter, and Remus were all only children. That made Regulus special in their little quartet. He was the designated little brother, but James had been so blinded by Sirius’ own resentment towards his parents, that he didn’t even realize Sirius wasn’t the only one being hurt by them. Maybe if he’d reached out sooner to Regulus, taken him in like he’d taken Sirius when they first met on the train, maybe things would be different. Regulus wouldn’t be sitting by himself under the willows singing a broken song about loneliness and love.

James stood up and shuffled closer to Regulus, who froze up but didn’t protest as James plopped down next to him, their shoulders touching. Regulus seemed to be watching him suspiciously, one hand close to the wand sticking out of his pocket, like he was preparing to hex or stun James if he did something threatening. That was something else, that defensive reflex as if Regulus was simply used to people turning on him.

“What book were you reading?” James asked, leaning down to pull the book out of Regulus’ bag, noting the etching of a broom sewn into the cloth cover and feeling over the title: Brooms over the Centuries. “Oh this is wicked! Is it like a history book of brooms?”

“That is what the title might suggest,” Regulus mumbled in irritation, but he moved his hand away from his wand to instead wrap his arm back around the orange cat, who was watching James with an ugly face and wide eyes.

Despite how irritated inconvenienced he acted, after a moment of flipping through the pages in the book and making notes on how cool the brooms were, Regulus ended up leaning towards James, so close their faces were nearly touching as Regulus clung to James’ arm and pointed out the moving illustrations and gave narrative of each one, clearing having already memorized the book.

“In the beginning witches and wizards didn’t have brooms, they just used tree branches to fly, but it was dangerous and not very accurate, so after some experimentation they came to the conclusion that adding broom tails to the backs actually made it easier to navigate in the sky.” Regulus was pointing at a diagram on the page of how a basic broom was made, and James snickered.

“Can you even imagine trying to play Quidditch with just a tree branch?”

“People think it’s a dangerous game now,” Regulus said in amusement, and laughed at his own joke as James laughed with him.

“Merlin, these old brooms look so dumb, but I can’t help but want one! I’ll hang it on my wall with all my Quidditch stuff!”

“I think they’re opening a broom museum in Northern Ireland,” Regulus said, reaching into his bag as James gaped at him.

“No way, really?!”

“Yeah, I read it in Quidditch Weekly.” Regulus sat straighter with a magazine in hand, flipping it open to the page where an article was detailing the opening of a new Museum dedicated to flying brooms, with a sub section dedicated to Quidditch.

“Oh man, we have go!” James said in excitement. “When does it open?”

He didn’t realize he’d said the wrong thing until he realized Regulus wasn’t answering, tearing his eyes from the magazine and instead looking at the drawn expression on the Slytherin’s face, like he was waking up from a dream, blinking his silvery eyes and furrowing his brow. Like he hadn’t even noticed he’d been having such easy conversation with James.

James took a slow breath before smiling, shutting the book on his lap. “Regulus.” 

The younger boy blinked and turned to look at James, who hesitated and noted they were still close, shoulders pressing together and faces inches apart. Close enough that James could see the ivory of Regulus’ skin blemished by splotches of red and tanned sections that he never would have noticed from a distance. From a distance Regulus looked like porcelain, like an invaluable doll, untouchable and perfect and unblemished, but this close James could see tiny imperfections that made him seem so much more human. The tiny spots of sunburn, the tan on his cheeks and forehead, tiny scars near his lips and peeking out of the pitch black of his eyebrows from one too many Quidditch injuries to the face (and maybe one or two hexes). Regulus’ eyes were piercing grey and silver, but the left eye seemed to be a fraction of a shade darker than the right. They were lighter than Sirius’ eyes, James realized. Even his hair somehow looked different. While Sirius kept his somewhat wild and untamed, Regulus’ looked soft and silky and reflected against the sun that filtered through the leaves.

“Can you sing that song?” James asked on a breath, blurting it out when he decided he’d been staring for too long. Regulus looked immediately uncomfortable, so James reached out to grab one of his hands, not even paying attention to how he squeezed his fingers as he kept eye contact with the younger Black. “Please. I want to hear you sing again.”

Regulus seemed to consider it, lips parting to take in a sharp inhale before it caught in his throat, eyes going wide when another familiar voice sounded.

“Prongs, you down here?!” Sirius, just beyond the veil of leaves, down by the lake edge with Remus and Peter. “Mar says she saw you shuffle down here, you better not be planning to jump out at us!”

James met Regulus’ eye, feeling something akin to loneliness as the Slytherin shoved his things into his bag and stumbled frantically over the roots, the opposite direction of Sirius and the others. James yanked his wand out as he reached out to grab Regulus by his wrist, holding his wand up and quickly uttering a silencing spell to muffle his voice from his friends, leaning towards Regulus so their foreheads were touching.

“Later, you have to promise. You’ll sing that song for me later. Promise?”

Regulus looked frightened and hopeful at the same time, looking over James’ shoulder before meeting his eye and nodding, then turned and pulled out of his grip, disappearing through the hanging leaves.

James slowly lowered his wand, turning sluggishly and pausing when he caught sight of the ugly orange cat still perched on the root of the tree. “Watch after him for me, yeah?”

The cat flicked its tail and hopped off the root to follow Regulus, and James took a breath, turning to join his friends but unable to think of anything that wasn’t the hauntingly beautiful sound of Regulus’ song.

Send in prompts: Dialogue Prompts | Miscellaneous Prompts

[gffa]

Sometimes I think about yelling at STAR WARS fandom to slow the hell down because I have so many things to read and so many books and comics on top of all the fic, but then I remember, THIS IS THE BEST PROBLEM TO HAVE, oh no I have so many fun things to read! How awful! I can’t keep up with everything that I know I’m going to enjoy, so I have to post a list before I’m finished catching up, because otherwise it’d take me another month! Terrible! The fandom really has put out some absolutely wonderful things lately and I’ve just felt really happy and fizzy about them, I’ve been excited to yell about them and now I want to yell at other people about all the stuff I loved. STAR WARS FIC RECS: TIME TRAVEL RECS: ✦ Hearts Entwined by KeeperofSeeds, obi-wan & shmi & qui-gon, time travel, 6.5k wip   stolen moments between Padawan Kenobi and Shmi Skywalker, glimpsed by Qui Gon Jinn, and his continued attempts to understand both this strange new addition to the Temple and the unexplained relationship between the pair PREQUELS RECS: ✦ And the Void Answered Back by Ghost_Owl, obi-wan & anakin & rey & finn & poe & ben & yoda & maz & cast, force ghosts, 37.5k wip   (Follows the Force ghosts of Anakin, Obi Wan, and friends getting dragged kicking and screaming through the events of The Force Awakens) ✦ Youngling by LostintheTARDIS, obi-wan & anakin & cast, de-aged!anakin, 65.5k wip   Obi-Wan is sent on a rescue mission to find his missing padawan, shot down after completing a mission of his own, but what he finds is not what he expects. “No, it… It’s not possible, Obi-Wan. How can Anakin Skywalker be this little boy?” ✦ Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi by stonefreeak, obi-wan & anakin & padme & cody & bail & palpatine & cast, 16.5k wip   By an old Republic law, all members of the Jedi High Council are senators in the Galactic Senate, and can thus be voted in as chancellor. ✦ The Orchards by Raven_Knight, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, 3.6k   When young Obi-Wan Kenobi is injured on a previous mission, Qui-Gon Jinn refuses to accept further off-planet missions until his Padawan’s recovery. Yoda assigns the pair an in-Temple mission of utmost importance while Obi-Wan heals. Master and Padawan welcome the change of pace. ✦ Staggering Is For Those With Nothing To Live Up To by shiningjedi, mace & ponds & depa & yoda & obi-wan & cast, 4.9k   Ponds has fought side-by-side with his general for over two years, so if Windu thinks that he can’t tell when something’s off, then, with all due respect, he’s made a serious error of judgement. ✦ Blow me away, Master Kenobi by stonefreeak, obi-wan, 1.9k   An explosion at a spaceport caused by anti-war extremists leaves Obi-Wan to navigate his way up through the surface through the debris. And then he finds the children… ✦ Found Clan by silvergryphon, boba & ocs & obi-wan & anakin & cast, 18.4k wip   After the Battle of Geonosis, a Jedi Healer discovers young Boba Fett mourning the loss of his father. Not about to leave a ten-year-old boy on his own, she promptly adopts him with the full collusion of her Padawan. ✦ The Art of Dual Wielding (Specifically, How to Not) by F-117 Nighthawk (F117_Nighthawk), obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, ~1k   “Hey, Master, can you teach me Jar’Kai?” ✦ On the political ramifications of a marriage between a Jedi and a Senator by Deviant_Accumulation, obi-wan & anakin/padme & cast, 9.4k wip   In a shocking revelation, Nabooian priest Father Herriem has come forward stating that one year ago, he has officiated a marriage between Senator Padmé Amidala, former Queen of Naboo, known for playing a major part in the Liberation of Naboo, current Galactic Senate representative of Naboo and leader of the liberal south-up faction, and Knight Anakin Skywalker, Jedi General of the Republic Army. ✦ The House of My Father by ReneeoftheStars, dooku & cast, 2.4k   Dooku has left the Jedi Order and returned to his homeworld of Serenno, where he claims his rightful place as the Count of House Dooku. His sister-in-law is less than thrilled with his arrival. ✦ untitled by stonefreeak, dooku, 2.6k   Yan Dooku looks out over the holotable, filled with recent battles against the Republic. Battles that has started to go increasingly well for the Republic, with the heightened morale from their new chancellor. ✦ Full of Charts and Facts and Figures by ambiguously, mace/depa, 4.3k   Mace and Depa get kidnapped by pirates. ✦ Shed by SingManyFaces, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, ~1k   Not long after being assigned to Anakin, Ahsoka becomes worried he’s hiding something serious and goes to Obi-Wan for advice. ✦ Tipping Point by Ria Talla (ronia), adi gallia & finis valorum & eeth koth, 3.3k   “I believe that if what’s happening on Naboo is allowed to continue, the other member systems will wonder what they owe to a Republic that can no longer protect them.” ✦ The Path of Totality by Raven_Knight, obi-wan & yoda & qui-gon & cast, 1.8k   Before going their separate ways into exile, Obi-Wan Kenobi shares with Yoda a lesson of wisdom he’d learned from his late Master, Qui-Gon Jinn. A lesson of darkness, light, and hope. OBI-WAN/ANAKIN RECS: ✦ Homecoming + Ben + To Love What Death Can Touch by Ripki, obi-wan/anakin & luke & leia & cast, western au, 3.7k   After a long absence, Anakin finally returns to the Lars farm. (Western AU.) ✦ The Missing Part by Nightstar269, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, modern au, 57.4k wip   Anakin Skywalker, a student of mechanical engineering, has always felt that his life was lacking something, a feeling that was made much worse with the deaths of his mother first, and of the woman he loved some time later. Still haunted by the pain and heartbreak, he tries to go on with his life as well as he can. When an initiative of the director of the university has the students attending the classes of another degree so as to enrich their knowledge, he will meet someone that will turn his world upside down. ✦ Across the Darkness by xpityx, obi-wan/anakin & anakin/padme, 19.3k wip   Obi-Wan knew they had hit the temple’s inner security measures when Anakin went from calm to clutching both Obi-Wan and his lightsaber between one step and the next. ✦ Desire by Ralph_E_Silvering, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, mild d/s, 10.8k   Anakin Skywalker decides to take his investigation of an illegal smuggling ring in entirely the wrong direction when he finds a substance called “Desire"…and Obi-Wan cleans up his mess, as usual. ✦ What An Expensive Fate by FromDreamstoEmpires, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, sith!obi-wan, sith!anakin, 1.3k   Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at him, “But you like it when I tell you what to do.” He said softly, hand pulling on his curls until Anakin was forced to look at him, “Don’t you, sweetheart?” ✦ In the Details by SingManyFaces, obi-wan/anakin & anakin/ahsoka & obi-wan/anakin/ahsoka, NSFW, 2.3k   Anakin spends time learning the bodies of those he loves, and enjoys the same treatment. ✦ Collar by bell (belldreams), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, 4.1k wip   “You have to be sure, Anakin. Once we’re in, we’re in.” “I think I can handle being your sub, Obi-Wan.” ✦ Pursuit by Icse, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, 18.5k wip   Aka ‘Obikin Equestrian AU’ on Tumblr. ✦ Thank You, Dear Heart by supercalifragilistichespiralidoso, obi-wan/anakin, ~1k   Obi-Wan calls Anakin by a pet name when they’re not alone ✦ came last in the technical by destiny919, anakin & ahsoka + background obi-wan/anakin, 1.5k   “Okay, Snips,” Anakin said confidently. “We’re doing this. We’re making this happen.” ✦ my heart is an echo chamber by Burning_Nightingale, obi-wan/anakin, 3.4k   Obi-Wan Kenobi and Darth Vader don’t meet again until their final confrontation on the Death Star. Not in person, at least. ✦ Rebel with a Cause by planetary_retrograde, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & cast, 12.6k wip   A year after the fall of the Republic and the rise of the Galactic Empire, former Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi has formally joined the Alliance to Restore the Republic. His new mission: training Rebellion pilot and resident loose canon Anakin Skywalker. ✦ untitled by subskywalker, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, cock warming, 1k   “Remember dear one,” Obi-Wan reminded him as he pet his curls with one hand while the other stroked his cheek gently. “If it gets to be too much or if your need a break just tap our signal, okay?” ✦ Out Of Control by Gildedmuse, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.2k   “All right. But you owe me, and not for saving your skin for the tenth time . .” “Ninth time. That business on Cato Nemoidia doesn’t count.” ✦ last one on the list by destiny919, obi-wan/anakin & cast, ~1k   TIL the Han Dynasty was founded by a sheriff who was transporting convicts when several escaped. Knowing the punishment for this was death, he freed the rest and organized many into a rebel band, eventually going on to help overthrow the ruling Qin Dynasty and install himself as Emperor. ✦ darling can’t you hear me (s.o.s.) by nessa_j, obi-wan/anakin & cast, 3.5k   Stranded alone on a planet, Obi-Wan thinks his transmissions aren’t being received, and starts sending private messages to Anakin, not knowing that Anakin can hear everything. ✦ a night full of stars by Ralph_E_Silvering, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, 2k   Obi-Wan, Anakin and Ahsoka are sent to Batuu on a mission by the Jedi Council. While there, Anakin and Obi-Wan finally act on the unspoken feelings between them. ✦ untitled by spell-cleaver, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, ~1k   So for the prompt mashup, Magical Accident, Accidentally Married, Obikin Thanks! ORIGINAL TRILOGY RECS: ✦ The Family Tree by frodogenic, vader & luke, 12k   In which Luke Skywalker is stranded in a tree waiting for a flash flood to recede. Too bad he’s got company… Post-ESB oneshot, can be read as canon-compliant. ✦ They rhyme by liv_k, obi-wan & anakin, 5.2k   Past and future, darkness and light, despair and hope meet one last time. ✦ Stitched With Its Color by lammermoorian, luke & hera & cast, 4.4k  Luke’s been all over the galaxy searching for clues about the Jedi - he should have started a little closer to home. REBELS RECS: ✦ in this world by xpityx, zeb/kallus, NSFW, 2.1k   It had been eight months. Eight months since he’d last seen Alex in person. He’d still been Kallus then, had still been convinced that the Ghost crew were taking him to his executioners. FULL DETAILS + RECS HERE!