#drawing whatever the fuck is so freeing but also they are destroying my nerve endings

[elmocult]

i am fucking crazy . but i am free.

[herecomesaspecialghoul]

Fuck, I don't know where my drawing book is otherwise I'd try to draw references for y'all. I don't look as, ehehehhh, as cool or handsome as some of the fanarts seem to believe. I'm just gonna describe as best as I can my ghoul form... Of course please do feel free to disregard all of this, I will and do love whatever is drawn of me. 🥰

Editted to include google images!

-My horns are very closely resembling antelope's I am told. Not too shiny, very black, an' my left one's got a little chip out of it

-My ears is very elfy- like Link from the Zeldas elfy, not " look closely and maybe there is a pointy bit there " elfy. My left ear's got a little chunk taken out of it.

-My face most resembles the Meliora era masks, but I don't have the, uhhh, carved hair. My hair's on the shorter side (and ghoul hair is actually very very thin feathers but no one needs to draw that)

-Eyes are black like all ghoul's. Solid. They don't reflect light either, which I have been told is creepy...

-Skin's like this dull darkish grey. A few shades darker than my face plate, I think. It's also all pebbley like some sort of lizard's up close (again, no need to draw that detail)

-Hands are human-shaped but I don't have fingernails. Where y'all's nail beds are, I have claws that kinda, uhhhh, jut out and curve over. Like the talons of an eagle or a hawk or some such bird! I have destroyed phones in the past by forgetting to glamour my claws away, eheheheehehehhhh.

-I try to style my wings bat-like. Copia's stage wings are my main, uhhhh, " I wanna look like that " inspiration.

-Legs are humany but I have hooves... How to explain... where the halfway point is on a foot, that's where my hooves start, and they go to where I guess is the end of the toes? I can draw this better... Oh, and these hooves are cloven! So I have, uhhh, two toes on each foot? I guess?

-Tail is pretty long, quite thin. Totally prehensile. The tip of it is an equal lateral triangle, just a flat, black- it's like someone cut a triangle from construction paper and taped it to the end of my tail, basically. This tail tip is how you know I am a Fire Ghoul. We're all connected to one of five earthly realm-ish elements and our tail tips is the only way to find out which.

-I'm not tall or short, kinda on the thin side I suppose?

-I don't have bones. Or organs. Or nerves. Still get anxiety though...

I think that is all!

[zettasserda]

How the Mighty Fall (in love) - (1/2)

Poppy x MC

words: 1,662

rating: m (swearing)

a/n: alright so as i’ve said in the sneak peak, i’m not a writer and when i do write, it’s rarely so bear with me. i had this idea concept of a confrontation between poppy and mc that happens in the bathroom while mc is being already late to kingsley’s class and poppy wants to have some fun with her. 

i hope ya’ll enjoy

Sitting on the toilet and doing her thing, Bea looks around searching for any trace of vandalism. A graffiti here, a renaissance inspired dick drawing there and maybe even a letter plus another letter carved into the wooden bathroom stall - the ultimate modern symbol of love. All of the artistic things she had easily found in at her previous college and grown to love.

She zones back in as she hears someone enter the bathroom, stopping at the sink. Realizing she was done with her thing, she dresses back up and pushes the door open, exiting the stall.

And the person that stands in front of the mirror like on a fucking fashion show, is none other than the Bloody Mary herself. It makes Bea suppresses a shudder, as she approaches the sink.

"I wouldn't want to inhale radioactive particles emerging from your way, villager." Poppy states not even bothering to look at the other girl as she puts her fabulous cherry lip gloss on. Bea rolls her eyes at that, but moves to the next sink in the row. She does a small curtsy in Poppy's direction, which makes the blonde glance annoyingly at the girl's reflection in the mirror.

"Weren't those outlawed in the eighties for being totally lame? I mean, your whole look is so depressing. I may actually be dead right now." The Queen B points the tip of her lip gloss at the new girl's brown sneakers as she gestures at them.

Bea lets out a low hum of disappointment as she turns the faucet on and starts washing her hands, but doesn't ever bother to glance at the blonde.

Her lack of response brought a certain amount of impatience and displeasure on the shorter girl's face, as she taps her foot a few times disapprovingly against the bathroom floor. She checks herself out in the mirror as she starts speaking again.

"Everything about you screams pig mud. It's exhausting to look at you." Poppy pushes, continuing to delicately trace her lips using her favorite beauty weapon. Bea sighs as she finally gives in and pleases the girl with a remark and a question of her own.

"Do you ever get tired tearing other people down?" She prompts the blonde.

"No, not really." Poppy answers nonchalantly as she finally finishes putting her lip gloss on, not before letting out a small pop. There is a short-lived silence between them, until surprisingly Bea cuts the haunting but weirdly satisfying tension first.

"What, no oompa loompas in their Loubuttons following your spoiled ass around today?" Bea throws a curious glance over at the Queen B, wiping her hands with a paper towel nearby.

Poppy glares at the taller's girl reflection on the mirror, shoving the lip gloss in her handbag more hastily than intended. God, this woman infuriated her. Realizing that silence was her only answer, Bea continues pushing and the roles reverse, as they always do. She thrives on testing the other girl, knowing she is the only one who can put her back where she belongs. And it is beautiful and freeing - a great revelation in Bea's life.

"Are they finally aware of the fact that you sleep in a casket and live off the blood of villagers?

She smirks at the blonde after disposing the used paper towel in a trash can, never letting her gaze wander off of the other girl. Bea expects an answer - no, not an answer, more of a snarl, an animalistic growl. She certainly had a lot of training from all that yelling at the poor maids.

"Or maybe they're still chained up at the wall in your hidden dungeon." The new girl folds her arms over her chest as turns to fully face Poppy, lifting her left brow, "When do you take them out for a quick walk?"

This gets her attention, as Poppy turns almost too quickly around to finally lock eyes with Bea.

"Don't be jealous at the fact that I actually do have friends here. And your only known way of making them is snorkeling with Becky the cow in vicious, underhanded local gossip and rolling around in mud." She belts it out like a song and Bea lets herself chuckle at that, because how can she not at the bratty girl?

But the bratty girl doesn't plan on stopping there.

"Also that lame version of Janelle Monae girlfriend of yours is gonna drag your rep down like an anchor to the depths of Freaksville." Bea's sudden smug smile turned cold stare can cut Poppy's petite figure in half, as the blonde only snickers at that motion.

"I mean, how damaged does a girl have to be, to be into someone as annoying as you, Fetus Face." She snorts as she concludes her voiced thoughts.

This fucking girl, both of them think at the same time.

Bea continues staring at her as if she was analyzing a brilliant cut diamond, until she opens her mouth.

"Oh wow, pretty little liar isn't even aware of the fact that her minions don't see her as anything more than a self-proclaimed magnet for popularity and reputation based on levels of fear factor." Bea uncrosses her arms and starts waving her hands in the air as if she was demonstrating a rather unknown history fact to her class. Across from her, Poppy furrows her eyebrows down so hard luckily they don't combust on the girl's face right there.

"What the fuck are you babbling about, treasure trail? They're my friends, they listen to me, they care-" She tries to simultaneously stop Newbie from saying whatever next she had planned and anger-management her way through the girl's sarcastic tone and elaboration.

This time, Newbie doesn't plan on stopping herself.

"Do they really listen to you? Maybe your wallet more? Or maybe you offer some weird sexual fantasies equal to dark fetishes of a sloppy divorced businessman in exchange for a rank level up." She moves a step towards Poppy, who doesn't back down yet, even if she probably wants to vomit at the already close proximity between the two of them. Bea continues pushing, "Maybe the possibility of you throwing a hissy fit when it doesn't go your way which results in somehow expelling innocent students and your so called friends, lingers in their mind every time they look at you, Tinkerbitch."

Poppy seems distraugh as she looks at the brunette hesitantly.

Struck a nerve.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Lumps." She says finally through gritted teeth, after finishing stabbing Newbie with a stiletto in her mind.

Bea decides to do the ultimate move and get up all in the other girl's face as she moves yet another step forward. Now she is standing in front of her, the edges and tips of their clothes almost touching. Their faces inches away as they share the same breath, making Poppy's worst nightmare come true. And Bea's reveling in the feeling.

"Did I struck I nerve? Because make no mistake, Legally Blonde. Every time you open your bitchy mouth to shit on someone for no reason at all except your own dissatisfaction and low self-esteem, you take one step closer to everyone seeing that you are actually pathetic."

Bea doesn't smirk or smile this time after ending her sentence. She gazes down at the girl in front of her with a more sad kind of look. It's pity and Poppy can smell it, making her lower lip tremble in rage.

It takes all of mother nature's willpower and strength not the end the pig girl right in that moment, to take her by her disgusting lice infested curly brown hair and completely destroy her in the academy's meticulously clean bathroom. What a sad death that would be though. For the bathroom's tiles surface, not for the pigsty standing in front of her.

"First of all, your hideous sneakers are provoking me." She composes herself after snapping out of her thoughts, but doesn't back away, "Second, your mustache is thicker than Borat's", she throws a glance at the taller girl' lips and lingers a bit longer than intended before quickly looking up at Bea's eyes again, "so you might want to do something about that." She smiles proudly, thinking of how spot on that reference was on and Bea rolls her eyes at that.

"And third," the blonde continues, "you fucking rustic scarecrow, ship yourself back to Losertown or whatever sad country you came from. You don't know me and you don't know what you're talking about."

Bea doesn't say anything at that. Poppy celebrates her victory.

The taller girl stays mute as she just looks at her curiously for a bit, which unsettles Poppy as her stomach drops a little. Any kind. Then Bea does something that probably almost no one at Belvoire Academy dared to. She glances at the blonde strand of hair on Poppy's forehead that moved there while she was going all berserk with her speech. She casually grabs it between her fingers and softly tucks it behind the blonde's ear.

Poppy blushes uncontrollably at the action as they lock their gaze once again.

"Let me write you a reality check, Ritchy Bitch. Your two apostles? They don't give a fuck about you. Honestly, no one at this academy does." She ends it with a shrug and Poppy hisses, "You don't fucking know anything, you filthy skank." She almost spits at the brunette in front of her, boiling with frustration.

"Do you really think the foundation of a relationship is based on fear and disrespect? How fucking dense can you be?"

"I don't give a fuck about your free lessons on ho-" A hand covers her mouth suddenly which startles Poppy, but keeps her in her place as intended. Dark brown eyes appear even more closer than they were before, as Bea's face was inches apart from the blonde's own.

"I'm talking, shut up." Bea orders and Poppy complies.

—— —— —— —— ——

tagging people that wanted to be tagged and shamelessly tagging those who i think might enjoy this fic:

@uhh-the-green-thing @origmansello​ @ save-me-the-last-dance @ ognenniyvolk @ imdreamingof-you @ nias-missellarious @ uselesslesbianfr @ jkeiontheworks  @somewillwin @kamilahtrash @poppysminion @captain-hanadeleine @simpforpoppy @poppysmc

also happy queen b day!

[demon-winchester]

Tremors Behind The Veil Chapter 8

-Chapter 8- Sylvia's POV: You need to pull yourself together I thought to myself as I was leaving my cover. "We meet again" I screamed at Abigor. He glanced at me and I could feel he was smiling. "Hahaha, the small girl survived... I still remember the splendid taste of your brother little vamp" Abigor replied. That broke something in me... Vengeance was calling my name. I started rushing towards the knight, he still had Aiden on his grasp and it was time to free him. I summoned my Twin Sickles and I started stabbing him. The attacks did nothing and I could see Aiden turning purple. I dashed back and I started rushing again. I jumped on some tables, I grasped my sickles tightly, I stretched the chain and I lept on Abigor. I tied the chain on his neck and I started hanging from him. He started sidestepping and I heard him choke, that's when I knew I needed to apply even more pressure. He threw Aiden on a wall, he grabbed my chains and he started gasping for air.

Aiden's POV: I started gasping and gasping trying to catch my breath. This fucker actually came close I thought to myself. I saw Sylvia hanging from him with her chains tied around his throat. "Oh so you finally decided to join the fun?" I sassed while getting up from the rubble. "Oh shit" I whispered. Abigor managed to free himself and he grabbed Sylvia pushing her to a wall. I picked up my gun and I started shooting him. The bullets were affecting him but he wouldn't stop. He kept hitting her while she was down. "You have no magic to help you this time little vamp" he growled. I kept shooting and shooting and after two magazines he screamed in pain. "Erebus...Drag your hand across its blade and let it cut you" Sylvia managed to say while Abigor started to push through the pain. I removed my gauntlet and I followed the instructions cutting myself. As the blood was touching the sword when I was dragging my hand, the blade started changing. It grew wider and somehow purple, it was shining and whatever was inside the blade it was moving around.

While the blade was getting transformed I started losing my armor and my wings, I was now a simple human with simple clothes holding a big shining purple sword. What the hell I thought to myself. I know I need to work fast. I rushed towards Abigor significantly slower than before and this time the sword was actually doing damage, it was really scratching his armor and it left an aftermath of energy after every attack. Red smoke was coming out of every scratch. He was in terrible pain... His screams would shake the ground but he would still not let her go. "You know what...You have taken a toll on all of us...I am ending you" I growled. He started laughing as I was letting the energy from the sword travel through me. I closed my eyes and I took a deep breath as I was trying to contain the energy. One breath, one movement, one moment and this torment would stop. I breathed out and a purple ray flew from the edge of the sword hitting Abigor on his chest. The blast left a hole on his body and red smoke was flowing out of it, he finally fell down helpess. I helped Sylvia up and we slowly approached him. I held the sword on top of his neck. "Sylvia, grab the handle along with me... It's closure for you too" I said to her and if she hadn't been through hell she would smile. "Any last words?" I asked Abigor. "Curse you, your children too. And their children, forever true." he answered as he was chocking. That made me smile. "So...Shall we?" I said to Sylvia. "May God have mercy upon your soul because I won't." I sighed and we pushed the blade through his neck. And with that, complete silence. He stopped moving and what was once the club was now a building in ruins. "Bastard" Sylvia said and she spit on him. "That's a great time for a drink" I said with joy and I headed to the few bottles that weren't destroyed with Sylvia right behind me. I jumped behind the bar. "Pick your poison love" I said.  We agreed on a bottle of red wine and we were ready to start drinking. "You know what, it's the perfect time for a toast." I exclaimed. "To putting an end to unfinished bussines." she said raising her glass. "To lady death and may she be on our side on the approaching fights." I continued and our glasses met. "Are you old enough to drink?" she asked. "We killed an executioner that had returned from the dead...Do you want to see my ID or does that cover you?" I sassed. She started laughing. "Calm down boy..let me jest" she answered and she kept laughing. "Anyways, with your club destroyed what are you going to do?" I asked. "Well, good question actually...I've always wanted to move to another country for a fresh start and I don't think I'm getting a better chance... I can't help but see hope throughout this mayhem and well, a fresh start is all I need...I hope. What about you?" she said. "Hm, now that I'm powered up again I need to find Circe though there's a talk I need to have with Lydia." I continued. "How so?" she asked. "Well, you see she doesn't have powers and she came all the way here in the middle of the night while we were fighting...She could've been killed, I told her to stay away from me" and as I was saying that a slap hit me. "She came here to help you, you fool and you're going to hold it against her? You know, you might know how to fight but you really need to learn to understand people more..." she said with anger in her voice. "So what do you think I should do?" I asked. "You should figure it out yourself" she said and she took a sip, "Also about Erebus" she continued. "Oh yeah what's up with that... My armor went away while I transformed it" I said. "Well that's the thing... The hunger this blade has while transformed is insatiable, it draws energy from whenever it can and your armor is a great source, you should remember though... Don't hold it in this form for more than a few minutes after your armor has gone away, it starts eating life force and that's not ideal." she continued. "Alright then, I'll have it in mind" I replied. We talked for a bit more, about her story and about mine too, the bottle had reached its bottom. She placed the glass on the table, she got up, she took a sealed one and she started walking away. "It's time to say goodbye Aiden and about Circe you should try searching in abandoned churches, those places are rotten grounds, perfect for Harbingers...Give her my regards." she sighed. "Bye then, I'll take your words to heart and I hope we meet again." I said with a smile. "You shouldn't hope." she said and she closed the door behind her. Time to head out I thought to myself so I grabbed a bottle of wine and I returned to the hideout..It was morning by now and people have started gathering around the ruins of the club. It took me some time but I reached the hideout and that pun in the entrance always makes me laugh. I jumped on the couch and I fell asleep almost instantly.... I hadn't slept that good in ages. I woke up and I checked my phone. A text from Lydia saying hello sent 10 hours ago....God how long have I been sleeping. "Hi there" I answered and she instantly started typing.

Hello                    Hi there                    What's up MY GOD YOU'RE ALIVE                    You're not getting rid of me that easily ...... Look we need to talk                    Okaaay, feel free to say what you want Not here... I mean talk in person                    What's going on? Look, can you be at the garden behind the hotel at 12?                    Like... Midnight? Yes                    Alright... I'll be there

And so time came to pass... I dressed up and I headed to the garden. The place was beautiful. Bushes with unique colours all around... A fountain in the middle frozen from the cold with patches of icebound flowers surrounding it, benches placed under old lamps and snowflakes longing to hug the frigid landscape. I saw her and I approached her, we nodded and we both started looking at the frozen fountain. "Look" I told her, "I know I haven't been the most supportive friend. I've been so caught up with the -whatever the fuck this shit is- and I never took a moment to think that I didn't act the way I should have". She raised her eyebrow. "No matter how difficult this thing is, I should have considered how nerve racking must be seeing a friend you've known all these years put himself on the grasp of death..." I continued. "Could you please tell me what you did that you think was wrong?" she asked. "Well, for starters, when I talked to you about this situation you wanted to help and I did my best to stop you from that, even if I wanted to protect you I should have been a bit more careful. Next when I lost my bluetooth I didn't even try to contact you another way which led you to coming to help me.. I should have escorted you out of harms way that very moment but instead I screamed at you and I returned to the shitshow... Lastly, I should have contacted you the moment I was safe..." I replied.  "Hm" she said, "Do you know why I called you here?". "No" I replied. "Look, I do want to apologise myself... I felt like a burden coming on the club, I shouldn't be something else you have to have your mind on".  "Wait" I said interrupting her, "I never got to tell you that but thank you... You weren't a burden... on the contrary, I don't know how that fight would have ended if you hadn't stepped in at that moment".  "Nevertheless, we had a deal and I broke it... The moment that I saw those pieces of rubble fly towards us I knew that I shouldn't have been there and the fact that I made you endure the hit really made me feel bad" she continued. "Please don't do this... You were the best support I could have asked for" I said. "This world isn't for me and I can't pretend that I am able to withstand the anxiety that comes with it... I don't know if I can help you anymore and that includes comms... It's hard for me to say that you know" she sighed. "I understand... The moment I saw him approaching you... I've never felt so much concern and so much hate, not towards him... Towards me for dragging you into all...that" I said. "What I'm trying to say is I'm sorry and thank you.... You were a big help and I'd feel happy to have you on the comms if you're up to it..." I said with a small smile. "There's another thing... The trip ends in a couple of days and you'll be alone here which will make the situation even worse. I'm asking you... Leave this behind and come home with the rest of us" she continued. "I can't do that... I would love to return to how things were but now that's something I'm unable to do... My plan now is saving Circe, returning home and finding a way to get these stuff off of me" I sighed. "That sounds fair" she said, "So, all good?". "It seems like it..." I replied, "We still have a night to spare, what are you in the mood for?". "Okay, I have a great idea. We head to this great 24/7 diner, get a bite, a drink and then walk in the old city" she said excited. "You know what... I dig that, let's not waste a moment!" I replied. And so we begun. We headed to the diner and we bought some snacks and hot chocolate . We started walking around talking laughing and just enjoying this part of the city. The cold was stinging a bit but nothing we couldn't handle, I didn't really mind because it was just what was needed for the scenery to look like that. Roofs covered in snow all around, tall trees almost crystallised by the cold and snowflakes dancing in the breeze. The time was passing fast and after walking around for hours we concluded that we should return. We were moving in an alley to save time and we saw a person emerge from its end. I have a bad feeling I thought to myself, I looked behind us and I noticed someone was on our tail. "Give me your gloves" I said with a low voice and that's exactly what she did. I summoned my gauntlets and I covered them with the gloves. We had almost reached the end of the street but the man was still blocking, he now had his hand inside his jacket... We were getting closer and closer. "Look what we have here" the man said while drawing a knife , "such a great night to do a good deed and help my poor soul". We tried to step back but a woman was in the way with a knife on her hand as well . "I don't think they are really into charity love" she said to who I presume was her boyfriend. "Here's the thing kids, if you give us your stuff we'll let you go, it would be terrible to stain this street with blood wouldn't it" the man said to us, "I like your pink gloves dude, really... Manly" he continued and the couple started chucking. "Oh you have no idea" I said under my breath. "Don't" Lydia told me. "We don't have all night, start with your wallets" said the woman. "You heard the lady, now hurry... It would be a pity for something bad to happen to your lady friend... You get me dude, man to man, you know how that is, she looks like fun" the man said and I felt my heart pumping. "You done fucked up" said Lydia. "Stop talking girl" said the man while putting the knife closer to her throat. I grabbed the hand and I smashed his elbow, a loud crack echoed in the alley, the man fell down and he started screaming in pain and in disbelief. "You little shit!" screamed the woman and she tried to stab me but I blocked the knife with my gauntlets. "What the fuck" she muttered and I grabbed her head with my arm, I smiled and I smashed it on the wall letting her drop down unconscious. His screams were still going and I saw Lydia kicking him in the guts. "His stupid voice enrages me" I said to her and I approached him. "Nah I got it" she said, she took a few steps back and she kicked him in the head knocking him out. "Ouch, that's gonna hurt like a bitch when he wakes up" I chuckled. "Thank you... Exactly what I was going for" she replied and she started laughing. "I hope you won't kick me too but I may have stained your gloves with a tiny bit of blood" I said. "Nah they make them look less childish... You know, the blood really brings out a murderous intent the normal pink just can't" she replied smiling. "Cool point of view... Does that mean I should stain your pyjamas too?" I said with a grin. "Sheesh, I'm trying to make a joke here and you take it as a chance to hit more people" she laughed. "On my defense I read on a fashion magazine that scarlet red is gonna be worn a lot this year" I continued. "Admitting you're reading fashion magazines isn't a great defense per say but you do you" she replied with a laugh. "We should probably call the police shouldn't we?" I said and she pulled out her phone. "Already on it" she Said. She left an anonymous tip and we continued our wall back. Some time passed and we finally managed to reach the hotel. I followed her to the lobby "So I guess this is goodnight" I said. "Oh, you're not going to your room?" she asked. "We shouldn't give miss old hag the chance to ask questions should we" I replied. "Fair" she said, "That was fun... You know, up until the mugging part". "Attempted mugging you mean... But yeah, it was fun" I said. "The trip days are running out" she continued, "we should do something tomorrow". "I would love to but I have a lead for Circe that I need to follow... Can't wait for when I get back so we can hang out more" I said. "Likewise" she said and she yawned, "I guess it's goodnight then". "I guess it is" I replied with a smile, "Goodnight". "Night" she answered and she started going up the stairs. Time to go back to the hideout and be all alone I thought to myself and I sighed. I walked out of the hotel and the sun was rising.

[in-tua-deep]

Honestly God and five and siblings goals. Also do you have any more info on that au??

(about the late addition/universe child au here ;3c)

adsfSDFGH are you kidding they would be the most insufferable kind of siblings where God and Five are consistently bothering each other and getting on one another’s nerves because they both are strong personalities that clash but at the same time if you even THINK about being mean to the other they will kill you without mercy

of course there’s being protective AND being irritating to multitask which God considers her job as a big sister clearly??

at some point Five figures out how to shift the academy like two inches to the left dimensionally speaking so that it sort of becomes something almost like how the Commission HQ was out of time but not quite?? it’s the house that when you enter you kind of feel like you’re entering a liminal space because it’s not quite in the dimension but it’s also not not in the dimension?

which is a longwinded way of saying that Five figures out how to squirm right through a loophole so God can come to their family dinners sometimes, when she wants to come

absolutely no one is sure what to do with,, you know,, God as their,,,, what? step-sibling? Like,, yeah the universe didn’t marry Reginald or whatever but she’s five’s sister and five is their brother so??

klaus just rolls with it and teams up with god to irritate five while also taking her side on genuinely everything because she gave Dave and Ben back

(“That was actually me??” Five protests loudly, because he was the one who had to fucking jump into an active warzone after Klaus ditched and grab a big old adult corpse and lug it home like does no one have ANY respect for the effort he makes?)

Five only brings up being ‘older’ than God exactly one (1) time because she immediately turns him into a 3-year-old until he manages to contact their mother to set it right (and even then she made him stay that way for a couple of days for “teasing his sister” before returning him to age 13)

“Hey how come you can change Five’s age but he can’t?” Allison asks over breakfast. No one touches the coffee pot because God made it, and it’s like black sludge. Well, Five drinks it - but he hardly counts.

She takes a sip of her tar. “Eventually he’ll be able to do it, but he’s too young right now.”

“HEY you know the conversion rates, right?” Klaus interjects, “How old is Five in universe years?”

God just kind of shrugs. “I spent my first few hundred years cradled in our mother’s arms as she spoke galaxies into being. I was probably a few hundred thousand years old when I made my first planet, and then a few hundred thousand more than that when I figured out life.”

Five is also drinking sludge tar coffee and carefully not commenting.

“Is Five a baby?” Luther asks incredulously, and he absolutely deserves the mug that is thrown at his head. He’s only fortunate Allison yanked him out of the way so it shattered on the wall instead of his thick skull, and that Vanya immediately moved to restrain Five from lunging across the table.

God, for her part, simply shrugs. “It’s a bit difficult to say. We aren’t the same as other people. We aren’t even the same as each other. One day, when we’re old enough, we’re supposed to leave our mother and become universes unto ourselves - but that’s so far into the future as to be eternity.”

Mollified, Five sits back and nods his head, because it isn’t fair to judge his age by human standards or by universe standards really.

Except then God smirks and says, “But he’s definitely younger than me and being not even a hundred definitely makes him a baby.” 

They end up just having to cut God’s visit short that day before they manage to completely destroy the kitchen. As it stands they’re going to have to entirely replace the flatware. Diego ended up just bear hugging Five to his chest and walking out of the room at one point, which Five quickly escaped and jumped back in. Klaus told Diego it was a bad idea, and so the black eye is Diego’s own fault.

honestly just the knowledge that your brother is kind of ?? a god? or a demi-god? they’re all somewhat unclear on everything

“I think I’m having a crisis of faith.” Klaus wheezes from the floor when Five finally ends up trying to explain after he does his thing so he can have God over at the house. “Are we religious? Are we supposed to be religious now? Are angels real?”

“You’ve been calling Dave your angel for literal months, Klaus.” Five points out, unimpressed.

Klaus rolls over to prop himself up on his elbows and give his littlest brother the stink eye. “YEAH. But like, in a GAY way not a CELESTIAL way thank you.”

“Important clarification.” God deadpans from where she’s sitting on the couch inspecting her nails. Allison is painting her other hand in confident strokes that only faltered a little upon finding the exact identity of the little girl in front of her.

“Does no one care about my crisis?” Klaus howls mournfully to the ceiling.

“I finished the tea.” Dave announces, coming into the room and just looking at Klaus on the floor with fondness instead of the general exasperation that’s sitting on every other sibling’s face. That’s how they know it’s love.

“That’s why he’s an angel.” Klaus sighs dreamily, accepting the cup and reaching up to pull Dave down to cuddle while Five makes a face at the blatant PDA going on in the house

honestly just Dave being super calm and just very very calmly turning to Klaus upon finding all this out and being like “Klaus, love of my life, I know you told me your family was weird but what the actual fuck.” 

And he’s from like, the old days when fuck was a really really bad word so you know it’s bad

(someone: i have questions about religion - 

god: actually i’m agnostic

someone: …

god: …

someone: but aren’t you goD -)

now i’m picturing claire coming over and having a tea party with her uncle five and also oh, god

(patrick, frantically, in the background after being filled in on all of this: what the fuck allison what the fuck)

but basically five in this au is like,, a very weak god?? because he’s a baby in terms of years and their power is supposed to grow with their years (which probably means that the universe absolutely could have interfered but it would have been a little like using a nuclear bomb to get rid of a spider in the house)

Five can: part the fabric of the universe to travel - both spatially and temporally, do some quick and dirty magic tricks like swapping two items or jumping an item to his hand instead of going to it, and speak the language of the universe - which is how he contacts his mother (it’s a little bit like yelling for your parent from across the house and hoping they’ll come closer to hear you)

God can do a whole heck of a lot more than that but she binds herself with a lot of personal rules - the chief of which is not to interfere too badly in mortal affairs because she’s a big believe in free will. And also if she tries to help one person, where does she draw the line?

(God likes Allison because she gets what it’s like to be capable of overriding someone’s free will and then choosing to not do that - even when it’s the easiest option available)

“So like, do I get my own planet?” Five asks, idly spreading peanut butter on bread as he prepares his favorite snack.

“Maybe when you’re older.” God says, just that side of condescending as she loudly clicks buttons on a gaming system she stole directly out of Ben’s hands not even ten minutes ago. He just let her have it and sat down at the table with a book and a deep sigh.

“I’ll kill you.” Five says mildly, like he’s commenting on the weather. “I’ll kill you, and no jury would convict me.”

“On no.” God deadpans, not even looking up from her game. It may or may not be pokemon. “Whatever will I do. I wonder where people go when they die. Surely it isn’t my own home dimension. Oh, the horror.”

“Don’t bring me into this.” Ben mutters, loudly flipping a page and making Five snort in laughter.

honestly i’m just picturing a whole lot of shenanigans tbh,, like not even connected series of flashes of just sort of a slice of life comedy

(“Some big sisters teach their little brothers to ride bikes.” Diego mutters, rubbing at the side of his head where his entire goddamn ear vanished a moment ago when he’d be volunteered for God to try and demonstrate something on him, “Just harmless bike riding. Not vanishing people’s fucking ears. The nerve. See if I hang around you two again.”)

Just Diego at the police station getting really frustrated with a case and being like “Hold up Eudora -” (“Don’t call me that.”) “I’m gonna call home and see if god is in, see if she knows that the hell is going on here. If not we might have to talk with Klaus, ugh.” (“Diego what the FUCK.”)

technically god has a name but it’s in like,, universe language?? it’s in starsong and not really,, applicable to human ears? the universe has a starsong name as well, and technically so does Five, which is probably why this au five was so resistant to getting a ‘name’ - he already had one

(Luther, horrified: wait when you said about being the four horsemen were you being literal

Five: don’t be silly Luther, if my sister wanted to cause the apocalypse she’d come down here and do it herself, not outsource

Luther: i am not comforted by that)

even after their first somewhat interesting meeting, god actually does get along with klaus very well - partially because his powers most directly relate with her ‘dimension’ so to speak, the one she calls home most of the time

i’m currently picturing a team up between god, claire, and five and it’s horrifying and wonderful and i’m sure causes more than one stress ulcer in the house goodness

but yes needless to say i do have a lot of thoughts about this au lmao

[jeonminhao]

Best Regards, Jeon Jungkook

BTS JEON JUNGKOOK | 2.5K WORDS  |  FLUFF

Rating : PG-15  | Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Neigbor AU!   “You really didn’t hate Jeon Jungkook, the resident graphic designer with – as Seokjin had put it – a heart of gold and zero self-perseverance. You really didn’t think you bore any resentment for the tenant who lived next to your apartment. Or that was what you were trying to think for the past month until you saw three post-it notes stuck on your apartment door when you got home from a meeting.”

A/N. I’m trying to write again so here goes nothing! Let me know what you think! Find me on AO3 :D

You didn’t hate your neighbor, really. You barely knew the guy! Your landlord only told you his name was Jungkook and that he was a graphic designer. “Maybe you knew each other!” Seokjin, your overly optimistic borderline dopey landlord had said when you mentioned you were a music producer. That was not how it works, but you couldn’t really destroy your landlord’s excitement, so you replied him with a smile. You didn’t think you’ve even met the guy when you first moved in aside from the note slipped under your door telling you to stop making loud noises at night. It would have been fine if it weren’t for the fact that he took the time to doodles dying stick figures on one corner with one stick figure clanging cymbals on the other corner (you might have ended up replying with a very bad doodle and an equally passive-aggressive note but that was not the point).

You really didn’t hate Jeon Jungkook, the resident graphic designer with – as Seokjin had put it – a heart of gold and zero self-perseverance. Min Yoongi, the resident grumpy cat lady who happened to be your cousin, had also told you the same thing, although with a very much more interesting choice of words (“the dumbass who loves Iron Man a little too much and looked like a muscly rabbit” Yoongi said as he helped you unload some boxes). But then again, you’ve spent most of your life with Yoongi and you knew the guy never said anything nice to anyone except for his cats. Hell, he even told you, his favorite cousin, that you looked like 'the hairball his cat hacked up’ when you fought off some bullies who made fun of him.

“He’s not that bad.” Jimin, the beautiful dancer who lived two floors above yours commented the other day. He had accidentally listened to Yoongi’s very creative opinions on Jungkook. “Kinda dumb when it comes to girls, but a very decent guy. You look like you can get along with him.”

“Excuse me, are you implying I’m kinda dumb too?” You asked.

Jimin only flashed you a grin as he sauntered off and it reminded you of Yoongi’s cat that would always try to claw your face whenever you came too close to it.

“Come to think of it, you are similar in some ways,” Hoseok, your best friend, commented offhandedly as he picked up another box. “You have that look on your face.”

“What? Beauty?”

“It’s more of a perpetually confused look. But whatever helps you sleep at night.”

(You chucked your sandal at his head at his comment.)

So yes, you really didn’t think you bore any resentment for the tenant who lived next to your apartment. Or that was what you were trying to think for the past month until you saw three post-it notes stuck on your apartment door when you got home from a meeting.

“Do you want me to buy you a headphone? :(“

“It’s amazing how you and Yoongi and Hoseok are friends for so long! I wouldn’t have survived it.”

And more intricate doodles of what you thought was you screaming while the other stick figures cried in the corner.

.

Jeon Jungkook was a little shit and you didn’t know why everyone thought you’d get along with him. You, as the mature adult that you were, decided to play loud music that night only for Jungkook to slip more notes and stupid passive-aggressive doodle at midnight. The exchange went on for the next three months. Which was why you were now lying on Yoongi’s couch, asking him for more revenge ideas. You had played most of the songs on your favorite playlist, to the ones you hated. And you had collected a pile of post-it notes with doodles and weird notes that you were sure were filled with more passive aggressive messages and insults.

“He’s a little shit, Yoongi.” You groaned.

“You have one more thing in common then,” Yoongi replied.

“I am not!”

“Didn’t you try to make better brownies for our neighbors, Namjoon last week?” You opened your mouth to retort, only for Yoongi to cut you off, “and both of you ended up sending tons of food to our poor neighbors by the end of the week.”

“He started it.” You grumbled.

You should have known better. You should have left the apartment when you realized Yoongi was silent for a good minute before his lips curled into the most obnoxious smile you have ever seen.

“[Y/N]…” he started with a manic grin. “Do… do you have a crush on Jeon Jungkook?”

“I DO NOT!”

You definitely did not have a crush on your tall, cute neighbor of yours that always tried to get on your nerve. And the heat on your cheeks was definitely because of the hot weather. Nothing to do with how Yoongi kept staring at you with that stupid grin or the thought of Steve that popped into your mind.

.

“Hey, [Y/N].” You jumped at the voice and quickly turned around to face Jungkook standing by his door with his eyebrows raised. His lips quirked into a smirk at how wide-eyed you were.

“Jungkook.” You nodded, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Hey, can you play those cute songs you blast the other day? I kinda like it.” Wait, what?

“Do you not have iTunes, Jungkook? You know you can buy the tracks online, right?”

“It’s free.” He shrugged. “I’ll draw you some doodles if you want.”

You gawked at him. Jungkook, bless his heart, had the decency to look a little sheepish for a mere second before he went back to his annoying self.

“Don’t forget to play the songs!” He grinned before he entered his apartment, leaving you gaping at his door in confusion and shock.

.

“Were you trying to flirt with her?” Taehyung asked the moment Jungkook closed the door behind him.

“Uh…”

“Cause that’s so pathetic.” Taehyung snorted, ignoring how red his best friend’s face had become. “Man, I told you to be all cute and romantic and you decided that sending weird notes and doodles are romantic?”

Jungkook groaned and buried his face in the couch while his best friend watched him from the kitchen, clearly used to his antics. “Wh-ami-sup-to—do!”

“Well, you could start by actually talking to her and not acting like a kid. She’s pretty nice once you get to know her.” Jungkook quickly turned to Taehyung, his eyes wide.

“You’ve talked to her?!”

“She gave me some brownies, which, in my opinion, taste better than yours.” Taehyung shrugged, sipping his coffee while he enjoyed the sight of Jungkook flailing on the couch, mumbling more incoherent words. “I can’t believe you have a crush on your neighbor and your first idea is to tell her she played her music too loud.”

Jungkook was about to reply when he heard it. The bubbly pop music she had played the other day. The songs he requested her to play for her. His face bloomed into what Taehyung described as ‘disgusting, love-sick, puppy face’.

“Do you think she likes me too?”

“Jesus, you’re really pathetic, Jungkook. This is why you’ve been single all your life.”

.

You really didn’t think you like him. You were just entertaining him. Maybe he was too broke to buy one track on iTunes. Maybe his laptop broke. You were just doing him a favor. Definitely not because he flashed you that cute smile that morning when you picked up your mails. Not because of the way your heart beat a little faster at the sight of him helping your neighbor and playing with some random dogs by the street. Most definitely not because of the butterflies in your stomach every time he greeted you in the hallway. It was justa favor.

But when you jumped out of your couch to run to the front door, beaming from ear to ear at the little notes and cute doodles he drew you for the day, you knew it wasn’t just some simple favor for a neighbor. He drew you a little cat and you thought it was you, judging from the frown on the face and your favorite dress. It was too adorable and you ended up sticking it on the fridge along with the other doodles he had given you.

You were, as Yoongi and Hoseok had said, completely and utterly fucked.

.

Friday was supposed to be a good day. But it rained the moment you exited the building and you had to deal with traffic. As if it wasn’t bad enough for you, you ripped a hole on your rain boots on your way to a meeting. You had to sit with wet socks for a good three hours, freezing your ass off because you had also forgotten to bring your favorite scarf. The client ended up not liking the song and ordered you to do more revision, much to your frustration. But the highlight of your awful day has got to be the time when you realized you’ve forgotten your keys and locked yourself out of your own apartment while Seokjin was away for a vacation with his daughter and Yoongi was visiting his family for the weekend.

“Great.” You sniffled, rubbing your nose pink as you sat down in front of your apartment. Your hair and clothes were wet from the rainstorm and you wondered if your makeup was still intact or you’ve already turned into a sad raccoon. You were too engrossed in your pity-party for one to notice the opened door next to you. You didn’t even notice it until said person crouched in front of you with worry plastered all over his face.

“[Y/N]?” Jungkook hesitantly called.

He smelled like pine and fresh soap and something else that made you feel at home. You looked up at him, startled at how worried he looked.

“Are you okay?”

At his words, you sniffled a little louder, your eyes burned with fresh tears. He gently put his hand on yours in comfort and it was like a dam broke, the tears you desperately tried to keep in check rushed down your cheeks.

“I can’t get inside!” You wailed, slapping the door pathetically.

“Shit. Please don’t cry. Oh, shit–” Jungkook panicked. “Do- do you want to go inside? I can make you some tea?”

You really didn’t know why it just made you cried harder.

“Y-yes.” You hiccupped between your tears as you let Jungkook guided you inside his apartment.

.

Jungkook’s apartment was like how you imagined an artist’ apartment would look like. Books scattered near the bookshelf, his laptop propped on the coffee table with sketches strewn all over the floor. There was a small pot of cactus by the window. It was oddly endearing and so Steve.

“You can sit here.” He offered, grabbing all his sketches and dumping it on the lone couch beside you. “I’ll get you some towels and clothes? Will that be okay? I can make you tea too.” He rambled.

You can only manage a weak nod, trailing behind Jungkook while he dug out a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants from his bedroom.

“You have a nice apartment.” You said between hiccups. “I like the little cactus.”

He laughed and it almost sent your heart into overdrive. He had that adorable blush on his cheeks as he led you to the bathroom, explaining which one was soap and which was shampoo in case you want to use it. You didn’t really pay attention to it, too focused on the way he smiled and the affectionate pat on your head before he left you alone. And if you accidentally used the soap on your hair, it was understandable. You were sad and tired.

.

Jungkook was sitting on the kitchen counter when you finally stepped out of the bathroom with a T-shirt and sweatpants that were definitely too large for you. You tried to pull up the pants as you waddled to the kitchen, trying not to trip on your pants by accident (damn Jungkook and his long legs). He quickly looked up, face blooming into a warm smile at the sight of you standing in front of him (his brain short-circuited at how adorable you looked in his clothes but he would never tell you that).

“TEA!” He said a little too loud, blushing as he almost shoved the hot mug at you.

“Thank you.” You hesitantly took it, sipping and sighing in relief as it slowly warmed your body.

“I have to finish some work first but you’re free to do anything here. You can grab anything to eat if you’re hungry or you can just sleep. Just–,” he paused, “just make yourself at home.”

You dumbly nodded while Jungkook ran to the living room, wanting to get away from you as soon as possible so you wouldn’t see how red his cheeks were. Too tired to do anything, you decided to join Jungkook in the living room. You walked past the fridge, smiling at the little notes he had until your eyes caught the familiar notes and handwriting that definitely belonged to you. The little ugly doodles you did for him, the weird messages. You froze as it dawned on you. Jungkook had kept every single note you have sent him and stuck them all over his fridge.

“Hey are you ok–,” Jungkook’s question died out when he saw you standing in front of his fridge, holding a piece of paper.

“You kept this?” You softly asked.

“Uhh–,” Jungkook’s mouth slightly opened, trying to find an excuse that doesn’t scream ‘I have the biggest crush on you’.

“That’s really sweet.” You giggled, feeling warmth creeping up your face. You didn’t know if it was the tea or the weather that made you look at him in the eyes and said, “I kept yours too.”

Jungkook was sure his brain stopped working the moment the words escaped your lips. You kept his doodles. The doodles Taehyung thought was a dumb tactic to get your attention. He thought he heard you said it was cute and you really liked them, but he couldn’t really hear it over how loud his heartbeat was. So, being the smart person that he was, he took a step closer towards you and blurted out, “I really want to kiss you.”

(He did get to kiss you, only to panic a moment later when he felt how feverish you were.)

“I’m okay.” You insisted as Jungkook dragged you to his bed, forcing you to take some medicine and get some sleep. “Kiss me, please?”

“You’re really sick, [Y/N]. Let’s talk about this tomorrow okay? When you feel better.” He smiled, though he still planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Okay.” You cutely nodded and Jungkook swore he died and went to heaven when you reached out your hand to hold his before you fell asleep.

[writingbarnes]

Best Regards, Steve Rogers

Summary : You really didn’t hate Steve Rogers, the resident graphic designer with – as Scott had put it – a heart of gold and zero self-perseverance. You really didn’t think you bore any resentment for the tenant who lived next to your apartment. Or that was what you were trying to think for the past month until you saw three post-it notes stuck on your apartment door when you got home from a meeting. NEIGHBOR AU!

Character : Steve Rogers x Reader  |  Genre : Fluff,crack, failed attempt at angst |  

Words : almost 2.5K

Author’s Note : Sometimes you get months of writer’s block and then you finished a one shot in a few hours :))) What is writing. I have like 2 version of this so if you see the kpop one that’s me 🤷

Enjoy <3 Tell me what you think! Thank you @pleasecallmecaptain for reading this mess and for the inspiration behind the rain boots lmao

You didn’t hate your neighbor, really. You barely knew the guy! Your landlord only told you his name was Steve and that he was a graphic designer. “Maybe you know each other!” Scott, your overly optimistic borderline dopey landlord had said when you mentioned you were a music producer. That was not how it works, but you couldn’t really destroy your landlord’s excitement, so you replied with a smile. You didn’t think you’ve even met the guy when you first moved in aside from the note slipped under your door telling you to stop making loud noises at night. It would have been fine if it weren’t for the fact that he took the time to doodle dying stick figures on one corner with one stick figure clanging cymbals on the other corner (you might have ended up replying with a very bad doodle and an equally passive-aggressive note but that was not the point).

You really didn’t hate Steve Rogers, the resident graphic designer with – as Scott had put it – a heart of gold and zero self-perseverance. Bucky Barnes, the resident grumpy cat lady who happened to be your cousin, had also told you the same thing, although with a very much more interesting choice of words (“the dumbass who’d jumped off a plane without a parachute because he thinks he’s cool” Bucky said as he helped you unload some boxes). But then again, you’ve spent most of your life with Bucky and you knew the guy never said anything nice to anyone except for his cats. Hell, he even told you, his favorite cousin, that you looked like 'the hairball his cat hacked up’ when you fought off some bullies who made fun of his prosthetic arm.

“He’s not that bad.” Natasha, the scary redhead lady who lived two floors above yours commented the other day. She had accidentally listened to Bucky’s very creative opinions on Steve. “Kinda dumb when it comes to girls, but a very decent guy. You look like you can get along with him.”

“Excuse me, are you implying I’m kinda dumb too?” You asked.

Natasha only flashed you a grin as she sauntered off and it reminded you of Bucky’s cat that would always try to claw your face whenever you came too close to it.

“Come to think of it, you are similar in some ways,” Bucky commented offhandedly as he picked up another box. “You have that look on your face.”

“What? Beauty?”

“It’s more of a perpetually confused look. But whatever helps you sleep at night.”

(You chucked your sandal at his head at his comment.)

So yes, you really didn’t think you bore any resentment for the tenant who lived next to your apartment. Or that was what you were trying to think for the past month until you saw three post-it notes stuck on your apartment door when you got home from a meeting.

“Do you want me to buy you a headphone? :(“

“It’s amazing how you and Bucky are friends for so long! I wouldn’t have survived it.”

And more intricate doodles of what you thought was you screaming while the other stick figures cried in the corner.

.

Steve Rogers was a little shit and you didn’t know why everyone thought you’d get along with him. You, as the mature adult that you were, decided to play loud music that night only for Steve to slip more notes and stupid passive-aggressive doodle at midnight. The exchange went on for the next three months. Which was why you were now lying on Bucky’s couch, asking him for more revenge ideas. You had played most of the songs on your favorite playlist, to the ones you hated. And you had collected a pile of post-it notes with doodles and weird notes that you were sure were filled with more passive aggressive messages and insults.

“He’s a little shit, Bucky.” You groaned.

“You have one more thing in common then,” Bucky replied.

“I am not!”

“Didn’t you try to make better brownies for the new neighbor last week?” You opened your mouth to retort, only for Bucky to cut you off, “and both of you ended up sending tons of food to our poor neighbor by the end of the week.”

“He started it.” You grumbled.

You should have known better. You should have left the apartment when you realized Bucky was silent for a good minute before his lips curled into the most obnoxious smile you have ever seen.

“[Y/N]…” he started with a manic grin. “Do… do you have a crush on Steve Rogers?”

“I DO NOT!”

You definitely did not have a crush on your tall, cute neighbor of yours that always tried to get on your nerve. And the heat on your cheeks was definitely because of the hot weather. Nothing to do with how Bucky kept staring at you with that stupid grin or the thought of Steve that popped into your mind.

.

“Hey, [Y/N].” You jumped at the voice and quickly turned around to face Steve standing by his door with his eyebrows raised. His lips quirked into a smirk at how wide-eyed you were.

“Steve.” You nodded, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Hey, can you play those cute songs you blasted the other day? I kinda like it.” Wait, what?

“Do you not have iTunes, Steve? You know you can buy the tracks online, right?”

“It’s free.” He shrugged. “I’ll draw you some doodles if you want.”

You gawked at him. Steve, bless his heart, had the decency to look a little sheepish for a mere second before he went back to his annoying self.

“Don’t forget to play the songs!” He grinned before he entered his apartment, leaving you gaping at his door in confusion and shock.

.

“Were you trying to flirt with her?” Sam asked the moment Steve closed the door behind him.

“Uh…”

“Cause that’s so pathetic.” Sam snorted, ignoring how red his best friend’s face had become. “Man, I told you to be all cute and romantic and you decided that sending weird notes and doodles are romantic?”

Steve groaned and buried his face in the couch while his best friend watched him from the kitchen, clearly used to his antics. “Wh-ami-sup-to—do!”

“Well, you could start by actually talking to her and not acting like a kid. She’s pretty nice once you get to know her.” Steve quickly turned to Sam, his eyes wide.

“You’ve talked to her?!”

“She gave me some brownies, which, in my opinion, taste better than yours.” Sam shrugged, sipping his coffee while he enjoyed the sight of Steve flailing on the couch, mumbling more incoherent words. “I can’t believe you have a crush on your neighbor and your first idea is to tell her she played her music too loud.”

Steve was about to reply when he heard it. The bubbly pop music she had played the other day. The songs he requested her to play for him. His face bloomed into what Sam described as ‘disgusting, love-sick, puppy face’.

“Do you think she likes me too?”

“Jesus, you’re really pathetic, Steve. This is why you’ve been single all your life.”

.

You really didn’t think you liked him. You were just entertaining him. Maybe he was too broke to buy one track on iTunes. Maybe his laptop broke. You were just doing him a favor. Definitely not because he flashed you that cute smile that morning when you picked up your mails. Not because of the way your heart beat a little faster at the sight of him helping your neighbor and playing with some random dogs by the street. Most definitely not because of the butterflies in your stomach every time he greeted you in the hallway. It was just a favor.

But when you jumped out of your couch to run to the front door, beaming from ear to ear at the little notes and cute doodles he drew you for the day, you knew it wasn’t just some simple favor for a neighbor. He drew you a little cat and you thought it was you, judging from the frown on the face and your favorite dress. It was too adorable and you ended up sticking it on the fridge along with the other doodles he had given you.

You were, as Bucky had said, completely and utterly fucked.

.

Friday was supposed to be a good day. But it rained the moment you exited the building and you had to deal with traffic. As if it wasn’t bad enough for you, you ripped a hole on your rain boots on your way to a meeting. You had to sit with wet socks for a good three hours, freezing your ass off because you had also forgotten to bring your favorite scarf. The client ended up not liking the song and ordered you to do more revision, much to your frustration. But the highlight of your awful day has got to be the time when you realized you’ve forgotten your keys and locked yourself out of your own apartment while Scott was away for a vacation with his daughter and Bucky was visiting his family for the weekend.

“Great.” You sniffled, rubbing your nose pink as you sat down in front of your apartment. Your hair and clothes were wet from the rainstorm and you wondered if your makeup was still intact or if you’ve already turned into a sad raccoon. You were too engrossed in your pity-party for one to notice the opened door next to you. You didn’t even notice it until said person crouched in front of you with worry plastered all over his face.

“[Y/N]?” Steve hesitantly called.

He smelled like pine and fresh soap and something else that made you feel at home. You looked up at him, startled at how worried he looked.

“Are you okay?”

At his words, you sniffled a little louder, your eyes burned with fresh tears. He gently put his hand on yours in comfort and it was like a dam broke, the tears you desperately tried to keep in check rushed down your cheeks.

“I can’t get inside!” You wailed, slapping the door pathetically.

“Shit. Please don’t cry. Oh, shit–” Steve panicked. “Do- do you want to come inside? I can make you some tea?”

You really didn’t know why it just made you cried harder.

“Y-yes.” You hiccupped between your tears as you let Steve guide you inside his apartment.

.

Steve’s apartment was like how you imagined an artist’ apartment would look like. Books scattered near the bookshelf, his laptop propped on the coffee table with sketches strewn all over the floor. There was a small pot of cactus by the window. It was oddly endearing and so was Steve.

“You can sit here.” He offered, grabbing all his sketches and dumping it on the lone couch beside you. “I’ll get you some towels and clothes? Will that be okay? I can make you tea too.” He rambled.

You can only manage a weak nod, trailing behind Steve while he dug out a  T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants from his bedroom.

“You have a nice apartment.” You said between hiccups. “I like the little cactus.”

He laughed and it almost sent your heart into overdrive. He had that adorable blush on his cheeks as he led you to the bathroom, explaining which one was soap and which was shampoo in case you want to use it. You didn’t really pay attention to it, too focused on the way he smiled and the affectionate pat on your head before he left you alone. And if you accidentally used the soap on your hair, it was understandable. You were sad and tired.

.

Steve was sitting on the kitchen counter when you finally stepped out of the bathroom with a T-shirt and sweatpants that were definitely too large for you. You tried to pull up the pants as you waddled to the kitchen, trying not to trip on your pants by accident (damn Steve and his long legs). He quickly looked up, face blooming into a warm smile at the sight of you standing in front of him (his brain short-circuited at how adorable you looked in his clothes but he would never tell you that).

“TEA!” He said a little too loud, blushing as he almost shoved the hot mug at you.

“Thank you.” You hesitantly took it, sipping and sighing in relief as it slowly warmed your body.

“I have to finish some work first but you’re free to do anything here. You can grab anything to eat if you’re hungry or you can just sleep. Just–,” he paused, “just make yourself at home.”

You dumbly nodded while Steve ran to the living room, wanting to get away from you as soon as possible so you wouldn’t see how red his cheeks were. Too tired to do anything, you decided to join Steve in the living room. You walked past the fridge, smiling at the little notes he had until your eyes caught the familiar notes and handwriting that definitely belonged to you. The little ugly doodles you did for him, the weird messages. You froze as it dawned on you. Steve had kept every single note you have sent him and stuck them all over his fridge.

“Hey are you ok–,” Steve’s question died when he saw you standing in front of his fridge, holding a piece of paper.

“You kept this?” You softly asked.

“Uhh–,” Steve’s mouth slightly opened, trying to find an excuse that doesn’t scream ‘I have the biggest crush on you’.

“That’s really sweet.” You giggled, feeling warmth creeping up your face. You didn’t know if it was the tea or the weather that made you look at him in the eyes and said, “I kept yours too.”

Steve was sure his brain stopped working the moment the words escaped your lips. You kept his doodles. The doodles Sam thought was dumb. He thought he heard you said it was cute and you really liked them, but he couldn’t really hear it over how loud his heartbeat was. So, being the smart person that he was, he took a step closer towards you and blurted out, “I really want to kiss you.”

(He did get to kiss you, only to panic a moment later when he felt how feverish you were.)

“I’m okay.” You insisted as Steve dragged you to his bed, forcing you to take some medicine and get some sleep. “Kiss me, please?”

“You’re really sick, [Y/N]. Let’s talk about this tomorrow okay? When you feel better.” He smiled, though he still planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Okay.” You cutely nodded and Steve swore he died and went to heaven as he watched you reached out your hand to hold his.

[rosadearest]

Love is Madness

Rating: T

Pairing: Harry/Draco 

Genre: Dadaprof!Harry and Potionsmaster!Draco 

Summary: Draco is oblivious, he and Harry need to get their shit together and Hermione is done™.

 A/N: this is for @peraltiago-drarry for our group fic exchange! your prompts were amazing and i tried my best to make your dreams come true, but dude i apparently can’t write more than a hundred words consecutively without it turning into a hot pile of garbage. all my love and i hope you like it though!

 Other authors: @okaypottah @tossermalfoy @pixiemalfoy @ssoftdrarry @hpotterlocked 

The headmistress’s office hadn’t changed much since she had taken over from her predecessor, who, likewise, had not deemed it necessary to redecorate, in order to keep memories alive and to not destroy the beautiful peculiarity that gave the space a special kind of atmosphere seemingly calming to everyone who was allowed to enter. And it was, calming that is, at least to her.

She loved the way the many windows were not only granting a sensational view over Hogwarts and it’s grounds all the way to the forbidden forest, they were also, at least on good days, allowing sunshine to be dancing over the many odd artifacts and books that Hermione and the people who came before her had collected over time.

She loved the way strange sounds filled the room, she couldn’t stand silence these days. It reminded her way too much of the need to stay hidden, the fear of being discovered, quiet nights spent fearing for the world she was so proud to call home, the absent laughter of friends and loved ones that would never be heard again. 

She loved-

“Hermione!”, the door burst open and ripped her out of her thoughts.

“Not again,” her eyes cast a pleading look over to the portraits behind her desk. Dumbledore met her gaze for a second and she was pretty sure she could see him smirk before he closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. To his left, McGonagall's painting was as it was most of the time, empty. Sighing to herself she turned around to face the reason of her despair: “I didn’t know you never learned how to knock.”

 “I’m sorry, but he’s literally driving me insane! I swear, i can feel how my brain is slowly deteriorating! I don’t know how long it will be before I do something we will both regret. He’s fucking planning something again, I just know it. I already tried to talk to Neville and he was no fucking help, as expected.” He stumbled up the few uneven steps leading to the big circular opening of Hermione’s office.

 “Now hold on a second, Neville has nothing to do with your inability to solve your own problems. Also these delusions have to stop, we’ve been over this enough times. He’s not planning anything, and if he is, it’s probably none of your business.” She frowned, her tightly knitted brows drawing closer together.

Trying to control his anger his fists clenched at his sides. “You just don’t get it, Hermione! If I have too look at his stupid smirking face one more time…”

“Why can’t you two just at least behave like professionals about this?”, she violently shook her head, a few loose curls breaking free from her hairdo, swinging around her face. “I’m not asking you to be friends or get married for Godric’s sake! Please, just try to be a little more agreeable with each other.” 

“I am trying!”, he spluttered,”he is the one that’s not agreeable. I can already see the headlines! Chosen One attacked! Hogwarts Potions Master arrested! Or what do you think of Reformed Death-Eater Draco Malfoy: Not reformed after all? Please Hermione, I beg you, don’t let me end up in Azkaban! I will die if I have to go there a second time, I promise you, I will die.” He flourished his hands, his usually so sleek appearance ruined by his frenzied behaviour.

“Merlin, Draco, could you be any more dramatic?” She rolled her eyes and was met with an offended gasp. “Dramatic? Me? You’re the one who chooses to ignore the problematic behaviour of one of your employees. I simply cannot continue to work like this!” 

Hermione took a deep breath, letting the atmosphere of the room calm her. “Okay, Draco, listen to me. As Headmistress of this school, I am telling you, and by that I mean you and Harry to get over your little rivalry or whatever this is. You are not only interrupting the orderly running of lessons, but if I have to listen to either you or Harry complain about each other one more time I will be forced to find replacements for you both. How’s that for ignoring problematic behaviour?” 

 “The nerve of that woman! As if I’m the one who should be reprimanded for his behaviour!” He was fuming. He didn’t care what Hermione or Neville said. He was not crazy, at least not yet. Potter was planning something and it irked him that he couldn’t work out what it was. There was no way Potter’s unwillingness to do anything productive during their meetings could be explained otherwise. Also what was it with all that staring? It made Dracos skin itch uncomfortably to say the least. 

The only thing that bugged him even more, was that they were supposed to work together on a project for inter house unity, another one of Hermione’s brilliant ideas that did nothing more than helping Draco lose his mind even faster. In those rare moments where he was being completely honest with himself, he could see the benefits. Hermione and her ideas brought a new kind of peace over the school, something that hadn’t existed for as long as Draco could remember. 

He could also see how it made sense that it was Potter and him who were the ones chosen to do the project, after all if the respective Heads of Slytherin and Gryffindor could get their shit together and work alongside each other, why shouldn’t everyone else do too. But all these facts did nothing to calm Draco down as he stormed down the corridors, his robes whirling behind him, making his way towards in the dungeons. 

Still grumbling he made a sharp turn around the last corner, coming to an abrupt stop as his gaze fell upon a very distinctive head of unruly dark hair, blocking the door to his private rooms.

“What are you doing here, Potter?”, he snapped, pushing past Potter and entering his study. “Hello Draco, nice to see you too”, he replied, a slow grin stretching across his features as he followed him inside and planted himself in Draco’s favourite armchair. 

Draco leaned against his cluttered desk with a huff when Potter spoke again. “I thought you maybe had calmed down so we could talk about why you left our meeting today in such a hurry.” 

“Why I left..? Are you being serious? You were just sitting there, not saying or doing anything remotely helpful, instead letting me do all the work by myself and staring at me with your insanely stupid green eyes! Why are you always just staring?”, he exclaimed, raking his fingers through his blond, already dishevelled hair. 

It was nice, letting all his frustration out on Potter. It reminded him of their school days, at least without all the punches and such. Speaking of Potter, Draco was pretty sure he had said something, though with the way he was inspecting his shoes rather than looking at Draco, he wasn’t certain. “Sorry, did you say something? I can’t hear you when you’re mumbling into your lap.”

When Potter looked up Draco could see the light bush that was creeping its way onto his face. “I said: Cause you’re pretty”, this time he looked Draco in the eyes while speaking. 

“W-What..?” Draco was still not sure he understood correctly, he couldn’t be. Against his will he could feel his face starting to burn with embarrassment. “Is this one of your stupid ploys to humiliate me? Because it won’t work.” 

“Humiliate you? Merlin Draco, we’re not at school anymore, well technically we are, but, no, forget it. You know what, I’m just gonna do it now. I wanted to wait for the right time and all that but you’re just so unbelievably dense.” Draco spluttered. “Excuse me?” 

“Just shut up for a second, will you?” He took Draco's offended silence as a sign to continue. “Will you let me take you out? On a date?” Potter’s eyes nervously raked over Draco’s face gauging his reaction. 

“You..want to date..me? Why..?”, he whispered, his voice so different from the irritated tone he had used only moments before. Potter was fiddling with the hem of his shirt, but looked at Draco with a kind of fierce determination that made his knees weaken. 

“Well, as I said, you’re very pretty”, he stopped the fiddling and pushed himself up, out of the armchair and towards Draco, his piercing gaze never leaving Draco’s wide eyes. “But you’re also smart and can be actually funny, when you’re not being spiteful. Although even that can be amusing when it’s directed at the right person.” A small smile was stealing its way onto Draco’s lips. 

“You have made an effort to right your past wrongs, offering apologies to everyone, not expecting them to accept, but hoping nonetheless. You’ve worked so hard to get this teaching position, to get your degree, not letting prejudiced idiots stop you. You made friends with the people most important to me, which I know you didn’t do for me, but still..” He stood close to Draco now, who was still so very confused with the way this conversation was somehow turning out very different than he had expected it to. 

Draco swallowed, Harry’s eyes now downcast, following the way his throat moved. Looking at Harry he didn’t quite remember how he ended up in this situation, crowded against his desk, his brain not coming up with much more than how the green of Harry’s eyes was even greener up close and how soft his lips looked and wondering if his hair would be soft if he raked his fingers through it. “Potter..I..”, he murmured, gaze snapping back up to meet Harry's. 

“Can I..?” Draco could only guess what he meant, but when Harry's lips met his, every rational thought flew far from his grasp. When he was later asked how their first kiss had been like, he would say it was a little like an explosion, setting his veins on fire, which, sure, sounded fucking clichè, but it was the truth.

It was barely a meeting of lips, but he could feel their magic flooding around them, interlacing and then retreating again. 

It was perfect, it was too much, and at the same time not enough. 

Draco knew he could never be without it again.

[soartfullydone]

May I put it in, little Kurta?

under the cut because whoops my hand slipped

*

She is a shaking, quivering mess and has been for some time. Her breaths come out in pants as she tries to re-center herself—to get some semblance of control—but that’s absurd. What about this situation is in her control?

The mattress beneath her is soft, and she rests on her side because that’s where he has positioned her after drawing her towards the brink and denying her for a third time. He has free reign to do whatever he wishes, and his whims are vast; her arms are bound behind her, locked parallel against her spine, her back forced into an arch. To the naked eye, she would look insane, as if she was doing this to herself willingly. A Nen perspective reveals something different. Pink aura is wrapped around her arms, and it isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Oh, that’s right. You can’t burn my Elastic Love away until I hurt you. How much pain will it take? he asked her so long ago, or so it seems. Maybe tonight we’ll find out together, but… You already hate my Nen so much. I think I want you to show me how much. 

She supposes she’s still in the process of doing that. She barely sees past the red in her vision, barely remembers who she is or why she agreed to do this with him, if she fully agreed to it at all. If her body is a bow pulled taut, that string snapped long ago; she unfortunately has yet to follow. She wants, more than anything, to bring her thighs together and roll her hips, knowing that if she could apply just the slightest bit of friction, she’d tip over the edge at last, and the pleasure wouldn’t be so agonizing.

Instead, he has her legs spread apart, fingers digging into one inner thigh as he licks a slow, teasing trail down the other. Her body is slick with sweat and desire, but it’s also been ravaged by his mouth as he’s traced and marked new paths along her skin. She feels him toying with her with acute precision, each nerve a slave to sensation.  

She’s pretty sure he is actually killing her, that she’s somehow reached his elusive, secretive benchmark. Her death by his hands is just taking a lot longer than she thought it would… And it’s being done by much more than his hands.

Reflexively, she struggles against his Nen and feels the immediate retaliation of his teeth scraping the inside of her leg. That sharp graze sends a violent shudder coursing through her body, and her mind screams, Finally, but she still doesn’t come. A sound of angry desperation rips from her throat, and his laugh ghosts over her skin, adding another layer of sensual torture.

“That was an amusing try, but you need much more than that, don’t you?” When she doesn’t answer, he shifts her body. Her weight falls heavy on her left arm, but the drag of his nails from her waist down to the swell of her hips distracts her. “Don’t you?”

Whether he means more pain to dispel the Nen or more pleasure to make her climax, the answer is—

“Yes,” she says, her voice higher and strained. Some might refer to it as begging. It’s all she can get out as another shudder hits; at this point, even the sound of her own aching need has consequences for her, but it still—isn’t—enough.

The bed shifts, his presence nearing. He brushes back the hair that’s fallen over her face, and there is nothing tender in the gesture. It is inspired by pure selfishness and vanity. He wants to see everything. The rapture on her face. The disgust twisting her lips. The hatred caught in her eyes. He wants to watch every minute play of emotion and reaction, knowing that he alone is the cause.

The thing about toys is you experience phases of obsession with them, and right now, he is in the eye of that particular storm, its god and its willing victim. And as both god and victim, he wants to inflict his obsession on this particular toy, wants to watch the contagion spread, and spread it has. She looks up at him now with those fascinating red eyes that abhor and distrust him, and they show how very little those reservations matter because they also say, More. She wants him, and he’s happy to give but also to take and take and take. In the end, he is chasing his own pleasure; hers is merely a byproduct. 

Hisoka. 

She remembers his name, not because her eyes find his but because of what she finds in them. Wide-eyed eagerness completely lacking in anything resembling innocence. His eyes absorb her like she’s a tapestry, and he is unraveling every thread that makes her a masterpiece, the last person who will ever take in all her perfections and imperfections before he tugs the last thread loose and destroys her. The hunger to see what becomes of her after is stark on his face, too, making his high cheekbones appear sharper against his pale skin. Her attention snags on the blue teardrop drawn on his left cheek, nearly smeared beyond recognition, and she wonders when she’d tried to ruin his canvas and destroy him in turn. 

Her mind quiets as he braces a hand by her head, strands of her dark hair still trapped between his fingers. He leans over her, his chest brushing against her sensitive breasts, and she whimpers. That’s when she feels him press against her entrance—but he goes no further. 

Instead, Hisoka smiles against her ear and asks coyly, “May I put it in, little Kurta?”

I’m going to fucking kill you, is what Melody Kurta wants to say, but her blood is boiling too hot, her arms are tingling with sleep against her back, and her entire body is shaking. The words simply will not come, but goddammit, she is going to. 

Almost blindly, she strikes, her teeth latching onto flesh—an earlobe—and playfully nip it, she does not.

Of course, he loves her attempt to nearly tug off his ear, his moan hot and loud against her. “You’re so mean, darling. I thought you’d like it if I asked you nicely, but if you insist---” 

With one, hard stroke, he’s buried completely inside her. Melody’s vision goes white, her orgasm cleaving through her as Hisoka’s pace doesn’t at all relent. She doesn’t know what she says, what she cries. She can’t even hear what sick and twisted praises he’s giving her, but it doesn’t matter. She’ll hear them, eventually, whenever she comes back down; he’s nowhere close to done.

Behind her back and unknown to both of them, the Elastic Love binding her arms starts to burn away piece by piece, like paper catching fire in spots as it’s held mockingly above a flickering candle.                              

[ahgaseda]

made of stone || chapter 02

⇥ synopsis : when you return after years apart to pursue a divorce from your husband, Mark, you fall back into a contentious relationship because your partner still refuses to give up his dangerous fighting career...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, descriptions of blood and violence, alcohol or drug use, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

Busan treated you as if you had never left. From the back of Mark’s bike, you closed your eyes and breathed in the surroundings as wind battered your body. The chill couldn’t touch you so long as you were tucked against Mark. He radiated heat and warmth and no cold could hope to compete.

From the countryside to the city, the night became brighter with energy. The lights of Busan were vibrant and colorful. You could smell the delicious offerings of the market and heard the bustling of the night coming alive. This was the home you remembered; the place you had once belonged.

The motorcycle came to a growling halt outside of a market street. Mark situated the bike between a few others in a cluster, earning some cheers and hollers from the boys nearby when they noticed his arrival. They gladly told your husband how much money they had riding on his win tonight.

You stood from the bike and pulled the helmet free, flipping your hair loose and inevitably drawing a few long whistles from the same men. Mark rounded on them, proceeding to crack his knuckles in their general direction, and the catcalls died down rather quickly.

“This is my wife,” Mark announced with an edge of warning to his tone. “She’s been on vacation in Seoul for a few... years.”

You snorted at the annoyance in his voice.

Mark didn’t hesitate to take your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, and led you into one of the food stalls. “Are you hungry?” he asked sweetly.

You had no doubt Mark would buy you whatever you wanted. The scent of the market made your mouth water at the array of street food freshly prepared, but you were too anxious at the moment, glancing down at the sight of his fingers tangled through yours. “I’m not, but thank you for asking,” you replied, polite.

Mark said nothing as he continued leading you through the stalls. Not long after, an elderly woman greeted Mark excitedly, speaking so low and hurried you could barely keep up. Mark’s eyes wrinkled with a smile as he indulged her, letting her pat and squeeze his bicep as she led him to the back door. Apparently, she also had some money riding on his fight.

“Good to see illegal fighting has its own building now,” you sneered with disdain. “No more back alley bullshit.”

“Try not to run your mouth too much in here,” Mark warned playfully, releasing your hand and hooking his arm around your waist. “I’m only getting paid for one fight and I’m not in the mood to go pro bono.”

“I thought you would do anything for your sweet wife?” you taunted, batting your lashes.

Mark scoffed and joked under his breath, “Not since she left me with two years’ worth of blue balls.”

Blushing, you snorted back a laugh.

The moment you stepped inside the concrete building, you winced at the ringing in your ears. People were crammed inside from wall to wall and their individual conversations blended into one incoherent roar. Your ears adjusted as Mark brought you to a square pillar and instructed you to stay put.

“Fine,” you grumbled at being bossed around. Mark flashed you a smirk.

He stepped away from you long enough to greet the ring leader, embracing his friend and voicing his readiness for the fight. You felt the familiar signs of nerves coiling in your stomach and racing through your veins.

Jinyoung was quick to wave at you from his position alongside Mark, face alight with glee at your first visit in years. You waved back, albeit nervously.

“Who am I fighting today?” Mark asked under his breath.

“Chansung,” he replied, pointing at the man across the room. Someone discreetly handed Jinyoung a wad of cash as they passed by, which he quickly counted.

Mark bobbed his head.

Jinyoung lifted an eyebrow, glancing at you once more. “She’s back, huh?” he questioned mischievously.

Mark looked to you and his heart throbbed. “For now,” he whispered sadly.

“You know she would stay if you just gave her what she wants,” Jinyoung reminded, patting his friend on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I know.”

Jinyoung shook his head with a smile and teased, “So stubborn. You’re both made for each other.”

With an insincere scowl, Mark returned to your side, discarding his jacket and withdrawing bandages from his pockets. He handed you his keys and phone, which you took without a word.

“Jesus, Mark,” you squeaked, cutting your gaze at the shirtless man on the other side of the open circle. “He’s twice your size.”

Mark spun more of the white wrap around his hands and fingers, then replied calmly, “I’m fast, baby.”

Flustered at his nonchalant attitude, you ordered, “Don’t take any hard hits.”

“Some things can’t be avoided,” Mark cooed, jumping up and down in place before punching the empty air at your side.

Watching him warm up, you glowered. “I’m serious.”

“I’ve been at this a long time,” Mark started, pretending to dodge invisible hits and delivering his own.

“I know,” you reminded softly, tracing your gaze over the scar on his chest. “I was with you every step of the way.”

Mark came to a stop, finally giving you his attention. “I remember,” he sighed, caressing your cheek. “I never thanked you, did I?”

Surprised by the gentle gesture, you leaned into his hand and let yourself fall into the warmth of his irises. “For what?” you asked after a pause.

“For always being there,” Mark explained, stroking his thumb over your skin. “I think I took you for granted. I came to expect it from you.”

Glancing at the opponent across the way as he threw powerful practice punches of his own, you murmured, “Mark, we don’t have to do this now.”

Mark felt you trying to escape and he gripped your face with both hands, staring deep into your eyes. “I never acknowledged what you were going through every time I stepped inside that ring. Hell, if I saw you getting beaten within an inch of your life, I would lose my fucking mind,” he spoke for your ears alone.

You blinked in surprise, listening to him finally give you some absolution for what you had endured for his sake. You could hardly believe he had put away enough of his pride to admit it and tears quickly threatened.

“It’s different when it’s the person you love and not yourself,” Mark finished.

You braced your palms on his chest and pleaded, “Then, don’t do this.”

Mark sighed and for a moment, you thought he would surrender. But he quickly asserted, “I have to.”

Bristling, you replied, “Then win and don’t take a single hit to the head.”

Mark bit his lip, fighting a smile, and teased, “Those give you heart attacks, huh?”

“Yes.”

He bobbed his head. “Well, you know it’s not easy with all the...”

You grabbed your husband by the face and yanked him toward you, chests colliding. Smashing your lips on his, you kissed him with the fire and urgency of someone starved of affection for the better part of two years.

Mark got a solid grip of your waist and brought your body against his, letting you dominate his mouth with your kiss. Shivers danced across his skin - of excitement and arousal - and Mark could hardly believe that after all this time and the bitter heartache, you were still head over heels in love with each other.

Breaking away, you met his hazy eyes and ordered, “Destroy him.”

“Destroy him,” Mark echoed back to you with a flirtatious smile.

You kissed him again, this time slower and much more of a tease as you slid your tongue between his lips. Not far away, Jinyoung whistled and cheered, but you were too lost in Mark to notice.

“Don’t take any hits,” you whispered between kisses.

“I won’t take any hits,” Mark replied obediently.

Tangling your fingers in his hair, you brushed your lips over his ear and rasped, “And maybe I will make it up to you.”

“And... what?” Mark stammered, blinking rapidly.

“You heard me,” you said, smug. Placing your hands on his chest, you pushed him away. “Now, go.”

Mark grinned and pulled the tank top over his head, tossing it to your waiting grasp. He raked his tongue across his teeth as he jogged backwards toward the center of the room, never taking his gaze off of you. When he finally turned to face his opponent, you felt the blood drain from your face in fear.

You had to give him some incentive; something to light the fire in him so he would take the fight as seriously as you did. If he wasn’t going to give it up, you had to ensure he didn’t fall.

Standing by the concrete pillar, you folded your arms and watched with bated breath. Then, the guilt washed over you further with the force of an inescapable wave. This was the life you had left behind. The one you ran from and never looked back. It weighed on you heavily; so heavily you were convinced your own bones were breaking from the inside out.

Each and every time Mark took a hard hit, you knew it would be the one to end him. The man you loved was infatuated with death and you were always trapped on the sidelines to watch him dance with her. A day would come when he would hit the ground and the light would die in his eyes, and you understood that would be the day you would rip your own heart out of your chest.

You hated yourself for where you currently stood. Two years apart had amounted to nothing. You kept yourself away from the man you loved and had absolutely nothing to show for it.

Tears filled between your lashes and you glanced up, realizing Mark was staring intently into your face from across the room. Something fell over his expression and you quickly fought back your tears to appear strong for him. Mark saw that, too, and it hurt him even more.

But he knew he had no one to blame but himself.

chapter 01 ⇤ chapter 02 ⇥ chapter 03

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[xhexxhexania]

Very Bad Ideas

[Never call me a female who doesn't know how to burn bridges. I burn those bitches down to the ground. Good for me, I also know how to swim. When I cut my losses and hauled ass out of Caldwell, I honestly expected it would be a century before I came back. I wouldn't have left with quite so much style, flair, and glymera mutilation otherwise.

Even I don’t believe that lie.

Not only did I enjoy making the glymera bitch scar herself, I was very well paid for the events leading up to it.

But.

There is some shit you can’t ignore. 

And that is exactly how my sorry ass landed in front of the Iron Mask, or what remains of it. It’s not totally destroyed, so that rules out a ZeroSum style planned exit. Nope. This looks like shit went massively sideways. Riding a few blocks past my former job, I park my bike off to the side of a coffee shop. Heading into deep shadow at the back, I scatter myself back to the Mask, reforming close enough to escape most notice, and masking myself in the symphath way. With all the yellow police tape, this place might still have crime scene types poking around. The club might have been Rehvenge’s idea, but Trez and I were the ones keeping this place together. Too many fucking memories. That’s not the only thing setting my nerves on edge, though. The entire building feels wrong, in a way I can't even begin to put a name to. This wasn’t a drug fueled brawl gone bad, like the news and CPD are trying to spin it. The humans aren’t ready for the truth of this, and I wonder if any other party even knows the truth of it. I pick my way to the area from the newsfeed I caught, looking for anything humans might have missed. The fact that I can still smell blood, mostly vampire, tells me this was probably targeted. None of the scents are immediately familiar beyond that, making it easier to keep a lock on my emotions. Here and there are little signs that the club was starting to show its age; worn carpet near one of the bars, cracked leather on a few seats. The place was due for an overhaul. Working my way back to the private rooms, I poke my head quickly in each, even though the biggest one has the door blown to splinters. This was the main target. Whoever was in here was the main draw, and the other vampires were a bonus. Rolling my eyes, I inhale deeply, expecting all kinds of sex, and bonding scents to hit my nose, along with the stench of blood. Sadly, I am not disappointed. Weeding through it all, I can get a vague sense of some of the people who might have been here. There are scents I know, but none that I know /that/ well. Good to know the Brotherhood still shows up, even if it does seem like they got caught with their panties around their ankles. Not as badly as the glymera raids, but it was still a solid attack on the race. Before I’m conscious of the decision, my feet have taken me to my old office. Nothing is locked up in this place, but even if it reopens, vampires will be steering clear for years. The office has more clutter than I ever tolerated, but the desk is the same. Crouching down, I feel around for the catch on the hidden drawer. Nothing much in there besides a list of phone numbers without names, and a combination. Brushing off my leathers as I stand, I scan around the room. It’s been painted several times, so the latch for my hidden safe will require some demolition work. It can’t be helped, but looters are common in this area of Caldwell, so the CPD shouldn’t get too worked up. Pocketing the papers, I pull the knife from the holster at the small of my back. The point I’m looking for never looked like more than a slight imperfection, and the paint has made it virtually invisible. Working the tip of the blade in, I spring the catch, moving the small section of wall on stiff hinges. I twist the dial on the safe without looking at the combination, and swing the door open. Like the drawer, there’s not much inside; two copper keys, an elaborate black lacquer box that contains a bloodstained length of white silk, and a diamond necklace. Six carats, square cut, heavy platinum links forming a thick chain. A stupid place to leave it, but the male who gave it to me wouldn’t keep it when I tried to give it back. The keys I slip into the front pocket of my leathers, but the necklace goes into a velvet bag before I zip it into the inside pocket of my jacket. The box will be an awkward fit in my jacket, but I tuck it under one arm for now. My best place for answers is the last place in the world I want to go. Dematerializing back to my bike, I strap the box on the back, knowing better than to try jamming it into the tiny storage compartment. I slip inside the coffee shop and place my order, even though alcohol would be far better than caffeine for what comes next. The tiny table tilts as I sit down, so I anchor it in place by putting one boot firmly on a leg. I made coffee for Rehvenge when he tried to talk me out of leaving Caldwell. I could call him. I could call Trez, or iAm, or any of the other numbers on that sheet of paper. One of them probably kept their digits, same as I have. Hell, there’s even a male I could text. That would be Number One on my list of Very Bad Ideas. He tried to get me back, for a while. Apologizing, swearing he could change. He must have gotten over his emo bonded male shit by now. Found himself a nice, obedient female to give him young. The texts stopped years ago, but the mating was over the night he tried to drug me to keep from leaving before my needing hit. Not that I ever shared that detail with anyone. Somewhere along the line, that male and I stopped being on the same page about young, in a big way. I still avoid them like the noisy, breakable, little plague carriers they are, but he decided being an uncle wasn’t enough anymore. Hot coffee splashes everywhere as I jump, kicking the table over. The human behind the counter hurries over, doubtless concerned about being sued. I brush him off, and grab a handful of napkins to clean myself as he bolts for a mop. I did know the one scent better than I thought. Little Wrath. The fucking prince, no longer little, obviously, was in the middle of shit at the Mask. Reaching my Ducati, I pull the lacquered box free, and stuff it in the front of my jacket. No going to my place on the Hudson first. I’d only find an excuse to leave again. The route to the Compound is at once painfully familiar, and completely alien to me. For a time, the people there were my family, and treated me better than a symphath deserved. I respect the hell out of most of them. The right thing to do is check on everyone, and offer my assistance. Odds are the door never even gets opened for me. If it does, I might face exile to the Colony, execution, or a polite request for blood and a signature to finalize the divorce. Whatever happens, I need to get some answers. The fact that my codes still work on the gates is a shock, but why bother revoking clearance if you never expect the person to show up to use it? When the mansion finally appears on the other side of the final gate, I park my Ducati in the courtyard, and make my way up the stairs. Too late to run now. Pulling open the front door, I step into the vestibule and wait to see how this Very Bad Idea ends for me.]

[hopeatermeetsgodzilla]

Chapter 9

“- and that’s pretty much how the ORCA is supposed to work.”

“Why’s it called the ORCA?”

“I based the prototype’s plans on a machine your parents created.” Florès answered, a smile on his face. “A machine supposed to allow one to listen to whale songs. Another name for orca’s are ‘killer whales’, and since one of the most plausible theory about Titans is that they could easily destroy us if they wanted to... it seemed appropriate.”

“Orcas aren’t actually whales, you know?” Madison told him. “They’re actually a sub-species of dolphins. They just look like whales. It proves that us trying to classify things based on their physical appearance is moot.”

“It’s still appropriate then: Titans look like giant humans, but according to your mother, they’re not.” Madison nodded as Florès went back to typing on his computer. “Also, if the 14 feet tall guy who can bath in lava ends up being a human, I’m gonna have a stroke.” He added, the teenager snorting.

The door of the lab opened, Stanton walking in. “Hey, Florès- is that a teenager.”

“She’s Dr. Russell’s daughter, don’t be fucking rude.” Florès snapped at him, before getting up. “You got new sound-banks?”

“Yeah.” He handed what looked like a disc to the programmer. “The Antartica Titans went free, and fought the Japanese Sea one.”

“We really need to find them names that aren’t just their location.”

“Well, do you have any ideas?”

“... Kevin.”

“Alright, I’m gonna tell Graham, but I don’t think she’s gonna like it.” Stanton commented, Florès shrugging and taking the disc. “Anyway, they fought, Antartica won, and we got a ton of new stuff to work with.”

“Please tell me there’s a video I can go off of for context on these noises in there.”

“Oh yeah, you should be fine.”

“Alright, cool.” There was a pause. “Get out of my office.”

As the mechanic turned back around, sitting at his computer and putting his headphones one as Stanton left, Madison spoke. “Laughing.”

“... what?”

“The Titan that fights the blue-haired one. He just laughs the entire time.”

“... right, you were there.” Florès remembered. “Is there anything more you think you can tell me about these guys?”

-

“- so yeah. We don’t know where the Iwato Titan went, just that he went underground, the Infant Titan is currently flying to Skull Island, the Japanese sea Titan is going back to Isla de Mara, and we also don’t know where the Antartica Titan is.” A scientist explained to Serizawa, who nodded as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

First, Emma goes rogue and frees the Antartica Titan, and now the only Titan who’s not on the move was the Mara one!? At least, they were getting a lot of data on Titans out of this mess. 

And the government deciding to get involved in their business now really did not help. “So not only have you lost sight of over half of the Titans currently known Titans, but one of your officials caused the early awakening of three!?”

“My daughter’s life was on the line, and seeing as they already killed a good chunk of our staff because your military thought we were overreacting and refused to act in time, I had reasons to believe they would not hesitate on following through with those threats.” Emma retorted, standing next to Serizawa with an unrepentant expression. Her husband was standing back a bit, clearly overwhelmed with what his wife had been doing.

“Everyone, we’ll focus on what to do with Dr. Russell once we have the situation back under control.” Graham intervened. “For now, we need to find where the Antartica Titans went, especially since the only thing we know for sure about them is that they’re brothers-”

“SERIZAWA!!!” Said scientist turned in shock, seeing Florès tumble out of the elevator and run toward him, before stopping. He was visibly out of breath as he tried to speak, and English seemed to escape him. “Titanes... tormentas... ubicación...”

“Take a deep breath, Florès.” The older man told him, the mechanic nodding and taking a large gulp of air before resuming.

“Are there any freak electrical storms that started over the last few hours?” He suddenly asked, looking extremely worried.

“I-” They turned toward the computer screen, pulling up a map of the planet. Indeed, there was what looked like a rapidly growing storm slowly moving away from the South African coast. “... Yes. How did you-”

“We have a base around there, right?” Florès asked again, Graham the one nodding this time. “Can we use that base to send one of those super-fast drone after the storm?”

“Why?”

“I think it’s where the Antartica Titans are hiding.” Was all the mechanic said. Graham looked at Serizawa for a moment, unsure, but sent out the order to send out a drone the moment he nodded. When the beeping point reached the border of the storm, she pulled up a small video, showing the inside of said storm.

As the drone advanced in the storm, it eventually found three shadows in it’s center, only illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning. They seemed to be walking on the clouds, golden hair moving behind them as if they were underwater and rain drops highlighting their silhouette. 

Suddenly, a faint noise, somewhere between a chirp and a growl could be heard, following by the silhouette on the right turning toward the drone and sending an electrical bolt toward it. Contact was lost soon after.

They all turned toward the programmer “How did you know they would be within a storm?” Mark asked Florès, who shook his head.

“That’s not important. What’s important is: where are they heading?” Florès asked, Graham immediately checking the map.

“North-west.” She answered as Mark came closer.

“Is there anything of note in that direction? Like another Titan?” He asked, and realization struck Serizawa.

“... Isla de Mara.” The older scientist muttered under his breath, horrified.

“What could they possibly have to do with the Mara Titan!?”

“Well, you said Titans showed animalistic behavior, right?” Mark asked, Emma nodding as he turned back toward the screen. “If that’s the case, he’s probably going there for food, a fight, or a f- something more intimate.”

The look on Florès’ face was almost comical in it’s sheer terror. “You really need to learn how to steel your nerves.” Serizawa commented, turning toward the younger man and making him snap out of his thoughts.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Florès started, visibly at the end of his patience. “Am I the only one who remembers that the Mara Titan LIVES IN AN ACTIVE VOLCANO!? If the Antartica ones are going there for any of those options, and considering that all four of them are already fucking with the laws of reality by existing, none of these options look good!”

“Especially if they land on Mara.” Emma continued, horror slowly dawning on her. “Whatever they’re planning on doing to the Mara Titan- Florès stop making that face, it’s probably fighting- we need to find a way to draw them away from it.”

“Or move the Mara one!” Florès exclaimed, turning toward Serizawa. “I- we could use the ORCA to draw the Mara Titan away from it’s territory and into the storm, taking their fighting away from civilians, buying us time to evacuate the island and maybe an opportunity to kill them.”

“What!?” Serizawa exclaimed, turning toward Florès as if he had just spouted something ridiculous. “You do realize that killing a Titan could have devastating ecological consequences-”

“Mara lives in a volcano, and I’m pretty sure Antartica has been frozen for longer than the current continents have been a thing. I doubt either of their death would cause such a big impact.” Florès countered, frowning. “Plus, we didn’t know the Mara Titan was a thing, right? Maybe there’s others that are still hibernating.”

“You don’t get it.” Graham started, pulling a few files out of her desk and handing them to the younger man to read. “Back when Monarch was first formed, we did try to kill one of the Titans in 1954, by dropping an atomic bomb on it. Not only did it not work, the Titan ended up absorbing the energy and leaving no trace of it ever being set off behind!”

“Mierda...” He muttered under his breath.

“Still, with the kind of storm they’re setting off,” Admiral Stenz started, everyone turning toward the screen, “It would be in everyone’s best interest if you were to get rid of them.”

“Didn’t you hear Graham?” Emma snapped. “Atomic weapons won’t work.”

“... well...” Serizawa muttered to himself... “I might have an idea... Colonel Foster! We’re going to need the Argo, and an emergency evacuation of Isla de Mara.” The colonel nodded, getting her talkie-walkie out and directing the soldiers around the base of Serizawa’s instructions. “Graham, go get Coleman and Stanton. Florès, you’re coming with me, and remember to take the ORCA. Russell, after the stunt you pulled, you need to stay here.”

“Can I come?” Mark asked, Serizawa nodding.

“We’ll need as much help as we can with what’s coming.”

[zankokunowisdom]

Survival

It’s been a while because just too much stuff was going on. *sigh*

During this period I had the worst mood since the beginning of this challenge but it wasn’t a breakdown so I didn’t loose yet! I have about the same amount of days to go! Then summer will come and hopefully the majority of stuff I have to deal with will be dealt with.

I should’ve posted more often because now I might miss some key details.

It was a very polar period, because on one hand, I’ve managed to improve and be at the best possible states in certain areas, on the other, some nerve-wracking and crappy things happened as well.

I am for sure getting stronger and my confidence has really grown.

I have bought a whiteboard which is really cool. My friend died so that really sucked.

I was just cooking one day and I turned on this Ted talk to pass the time

And it introduced me to some really useful ideas, the main being idea about breaking habits and using 5 second rule to do more. As great as this ted talk is, the book is even better, I just started it but it really provides great advice on how to capitalise on your impulses to do things and make sure that you really do them. I’ve finally bought a whiteboard with the help of reinforcing the habit of acting instead of over thinking, I finally got tested for HIV and I’ve been putting it off for months, it helped me to do some small things as well like get out of bed, or avoid eating candy, and so on. I love and it really works for me so far (when I remember it, hehe).

I feel like I will be ready to date #soon. Like in a month or a couple of month I should finish my reflection process (well, and I will only get some free time in my schedule after my university and work torture ends) and I will try to meet some new people, maybe new friends, maybe new boyfriends, we shall see.

Reminder that I  love Jessica Jones, I’m watching the show very slowly but it’s so so cool and I really want a third season.

I need to meditate more regularly, I didn’t have time to do proper planning for this week so hopefully I will be able to shift my course a bit during weekends.

The new months is here and spring is here too. I’m a bit tired to be properly excited but like yay, I hope it will be a good one. I’m definetly worried that I will just be buried in routine to properly enjoy life but hey, it’s a challenge. Life likes to throw challenges at me when I want them and when I don’t want them.

But I’d like to say that it’s not like I “have” to do all these things. It is my choice. Saying that you have to do something kinda strips away your power but you are in control of your decisions. I could walk away from my job or tutoring gigs, or say “fuck you” to the university but I’m not doing that because I know that I’m focusing on the big picture and all those things will be useful for me in the future.

This year will be really exciting because whatever shape my life will take it’ll be quite different from what I have now. It’s one of these “the end of an era” moments when you move from one life period into another. I know that 22 is young but I feel so old in some ways, like I can’t believe that I’m not 17 or 19 anymore, I’m so much more in control of who I am, much more mature, it is interesting to feel like you have at least some things figured out.

It’s also very cool actually, when you feel bad or is unable to do something perfectly or something like that, to realise that you’re not at your peak yet. And you can become even better. I’m already improving so much in different areas: there’s been a huge progress in my singing cause I’ve finally figured out how to belt properly and discovered my low register, I’m making tiny-tiny steps in drawing, it is by far my weakest skill so far if you compare to singing, English, biology or magic but I’m sometimes pleased with my drawings and it’s cool enough. I may never be like a good artist but I will be able to show at least concepts of creatures and hopefully places (I haven’t even started to work on how to draw places yet) that live in my head in the future. I’m getting better as a teacher, I’m developing internally and am much happier with myself and my outlook on life, just happier in general. My friendships are getting better, I’m much more aware. And I’m only able to spend like very tiny percent of my energy on each separate thing because of sheer amount of stuff I have to do. If/when I’ll finally able to properly focus on improving in fewer specific areas, I hope that results will be even better.

I really need to up my lucid dreaming game but it’s very-very difficult with my crazy schedule because my mind isn’t really relaxed-inspired most of the time. But this year is my best year in terms of dream as well so it’s not a huuge problem!

It really-really feel surreal to me to enjoy living. I sooo didn’t think that I could be the person that I am today. I wonder if it’s even normal to like life? Yeah, I’m glad that every day exists. Their number is limited and death will come. I can’t escape it. Not directly. So every day is a gift in a sense. I really need to destroy these last manifestations of negativity that exist me so I could waste as little time as possible.

One moment can change a day. One day can change a life. One life can change the world. This is my favourite quote at the moment.

I want to be happy, to feel beautiful, to feel wise and smart, I will make myself happy, I will make myself feel all the feelings that I want to feel. I can’t control what happens to me, not always, I can only control how I respond to those things, how I deal with them. And I’ll do my best to deal with them in the mentally, emotionally, physically, spiritually, financially, artistically, intellectually way possible.

P.S. “Mori” was born this month. That only means something to me, don’t ask.

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Wine after Whiskey

The post-breakup emotions had washed you clean, there were no more what ifs circling your mind, no more tears flowing, no more breakdowns or questions on what went wrong. 

It was all over­ – so you thought.

It was in the moment that you recognised the familiar head of waves in the same restaurant that you were immersed with all the feelings you thought you left on the bedroom floor, along with with the whisky.

You feel your body go numb, for a moment you can’t even pry your eyes from his figure, his figure bundled in a black coat with a scarf dangling loosely around his neck– The scarf that you brought as a joke because he can never manage to wear scarfs in the correct manner. 

You pull yourself away from the trans that he pulled you into, your eyes waving towards your friend in front of you, her wine scraping her lips as she side-eyes Harry. “Thought he was in London.” She murmurs as she makes her gaze further obvious, 

“Stop staring. He was in London.” ..“I guess he came back to New York for something.” You shrug, driving the sparkling wine down your throat to satisfy the stinging nerves arising in you as the presence of Harry grows more intense. She rolls her eyes, placing her wine glass down on the table, her bluish-green eyes narrowing down on you, “More like he came back for you.” You shake your head and scoff,. There is no way he flew from London to come to New York right before a snow storm is meant to hit, not to mention he is the one who broke off the relationship. If anything, he is presumably praying that the two of you don’t cross paths. 

“He did not come all this way for me, can we go? The snow should be starting soon.” You softly demand, pushing a small strand of hair behind your ear, your hand already gesturing for the waitress for the check. 

You stand to your feet and draw your black coat up your arms, encircling your lilac tinted scarf around your neck, allowing it to fall elegantly against your outfit. You turn around and your eyes directly meet with his, of all the eyes in the room his are the ones already staring at you–burning a vibrant virescence– a burning sensation fills your senses as you feel as though all the breath has been beaten from your chest. 

“Y/N?” His voice sends shivers down your spine, your friend’s own eyes widening as he approaches, clearly, she didn’t even expect he would make an appearance any closer to you. 

“Harry,” You nod, regarding how there are a few females in the restaurant now staring at their phones facing your way undoubtedly snapping pictures or worse, a video. 

“Hey ol’ Harry, don’t acknowledge me or anything. I’m just standing here with your ex.” Your friend mutters, pushing her hair behind her shoulders as she arranges her coat collar, 

“Hi, haven’t missed your smart arse comments.” He rolls his eyes, 

“Haven’t missed your arrogance, how’s the new girl going?” She presses, intentionally trying to exasperate him. The two of them have never really gotten along. 

“Don’t you have another bottle of wine to drink?” He muses, motioning over towards the small bar, “Drunk-o, go get yourself another glass, you look a little thirsty, and not just for wine.” He continues, trying to find the right nerve to hit with her. 

“Stop it, goodbye Harry.” You mutter, swinging your bag over your shoulder and heading for the door, ignoring the gazes and prying eyes of the others within the restaurant, not caring too much about the fact they are moments away from sending the fan world into total crises with the pictures of you and Harry in the same radius. 

The harshness of the New York wind is something you never grew to enjoy, the air before a snow storm is stone cold. You pull your coat tighter around you, your boots tapping against the snowy pavement, your friend taking a place beside you. 

“Y/N” Your name is announced and you freeze in your tracks, unsure of whether to turn around and meet the green eyed man behind the voice or to keep walking. You take a breath and keep walking, your heart aching as you take every step further away from him, your eyes refusing to look back. 

“Y/N, can we please talk?” Harry’s voice distracts you and it takes you a moment to notice the fact that he has caught up to you, his long legs and pace being enough to casually reach your other side. 

“About what? The fucking weather?” You snap, struggling to keep your emotions concealed as the visions of the breakup begins to haunt you again. 

“I just want to talk.”

“When I wanted to talk you left, you fucking left and went to London without a word.”

“Look, I am sorry. Can we talk, please? preferably in private without her.” He gestures over towards your companion. You stop walking and you breathe in the fresh, crisp air, your mind pacing rapidly in an incoherent manner. What do you do when your ex-stops you in the middle of New York City, wanting to talk? You stare up at him, trying to find the precise words to say to him if any are even available. 

“Why the hell do you choose now to talk? Literally right before a fucking snow apocalypse?” You huff, becoming bothered and confused. He is the one who left.. He got up without warning and left, left you in between the sheets of his hotel room. 

“Can we just talk? My hotel is right over here.” He sighs, “Do I need to get on my fucking knees? Do I need to beg and cry?” He moans, causing your friend to snicker,

“That is a sight I would like to see,” She chuckles, “But, I will leave you two to reminisce about what how Harry likes to leave his girlfriend in a hotel room, maybe this time don’t be a coward about it.” Your friend presses his buttons, “Call me if he decides to be a jackass, again.” She gives you a small hug, proceeding to walk off down the street to her apartment. 

You walk beside Harry, keeping your eyes on the paved concrete, watching your feet step one in front of each other. Your mouth stays tightly closed, nothing being said between the two of you as the bitter wind picks up and small snowflakes begin to fall at a moderate pace. Harry mildly guides you into the entryway of the hotel, the warmness of the lobby radiating you immediately, sending a warm embrace around you. 

It is in the moment that his card swipes the door and pushes it open that the memory of the last night together sinks in. The night that started off ideally and ended in heartbreak as you woke up to an abandoned bed and a note scribbled with his apologies and his breakup speech. Your eyes scan the white linen sheets and the black blanket draped at the end of the bed, 

“So where should I expect to find the breakup letter this time? Perhaps the pillow?” You challenge taking a peek around the entire room, your eyes settling themselves on the wide window overlooking the city. A glimpse you have seen on many occasions, yet you can never get enough of how the city glows a brilliant gold hue at night. 

“I am sorry, I should never have done that.” He closes the door and launches the card to the table, 

“What part are you sorry about?”

“All of it. I regret leaving you, I gave up a three-year relationship without an explanation. I was– I was in a confusing place.” He begins to somewhat express his grounds for breaking your heart and dissolving a relationship that was meant to endure whatever the world threw at it. His sister had even chosen the colour she wanted to wear to your wedding.. in a joking, yet somewhat serious conversation.

“I needed space to breathe and I went about it the wrong way. I destroyed us and I want to fix it.”

“You want to fix it? You act as if you can just pour some glue on the relationship and fix it all.”

“I know it isn’t that simple.” He breathes while he takes a seat at the end of the bed, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what to say.. I am sorry, I want you back." 

"We don’t always get what we want.” You shrug, your eyes moving back to the window, admiring the snow falling a little heavily than what it previously was. You turn back to look at him, “You left New York, went to London and went out as if nothing ever happened. You got away scot free… I had tabloids following me, I couldn’t leave my apartment because everyone wanted to know what happened to me and the ass of a musician I fell in love with." 

"Look, the pot is calling the kettle black.” He shakes his head, “I saw the pictures of you and that twat of a friend of yours, the one who you claim wasn’t anyone to worry about. I also saw the ones with that random guy.” He mutters in an ill-tempered tone, bringing up the pictures that surfaced when you were forced to go out with a group of friends to essentially ‘get over’ Harry and your broken heart. 

“Well damn, it isn’t like I dated them or slept with them. Those girls you were with the other week, which one did you leave at the hotel? Or did you just take her out and forget to call her?” You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes onto his, waiting for an answer. 

Never once did you see him looking miserable in any photos, he appeared to always be cheery and smiling, a clear indication he did not give a fuck about the relationship he destroyed with a small piece of paper and some scratchy handwriting. 

“Nothing happened, can we try again? I haven’t been sleeping, all I have been thinking about is how I fucked up something that too good for me.”

“Awww, poor baby, you can’t sleep. What a shame, try being the one that was actually dumped by fucking pen and paper.”

“I said I am sorry!” he raises his voice, “What more do you want from me? My blood? Hell, take it. Take whatever the hell you want, that will satisfy you.” He continues in a raised tone, his leg shaking as he continues to sit on the edge of a bed, an indication he is getting furious and is ready to explode with emotions. 

You unravel the scarf from your neck and place it down before sliding off your coat, allowing it to drape over the small desk. Harry stays staring at you, words no longer being a form of communication, nothing but intense emotions filling between the two of you, emotions that are luring you closer to his body, emotions entangling themselves within your thoughts of forgiving him.  

He opens his mouth talks but stops himself, thinking for a moment, “Love, I don’t know how to make it up to you. If you want to leave you can leave and I won’t bother you, but please think about giving me another chance.” His voice is soft and low, his fingers fidgeting with the buttons on his coat, “I um, I’m sorry, though, just know that.” He presses, his eyes finally lifting from his lap to view up at you before flickering down to his lap. You step closer to him and press your finger under his chin, forcing him to peer up at you. 

“You– you are the most obstinate, inconsiderate arsehole who broke my damn heart, and you don’t deserve to be forgiven, but I love you. Everything in me is telling me to walk out that door and leave you in here alone, but I can’t.” .. “I fell in love with you, and only you.” You continue slowly, making sure he understands each and every word, and to your surprise, he hangs onto each and every word that leaves your pink lips. 

“I love you–”

“I’m not finished.” You promptly cut him off, “Get on your knees.” You command. He immediately gets up and does what you ordered. You roll your eyes, sinking to your own knees, “I didn’t think you’d actually do that.” You chuckle, “Break my heart again, and I won’t let you back in.” You whisper, moving your body closer to his, 

“Can I speak?” He challenges with a small smirk. You nod, allowing him the time to talk.

“I love you.” He breathes, your lips driving themselves against his in an impulsive way. 

For a second he doesn’t kiss back, perhaps not sure on what to do… He takes greedy possession of the moment, enabling himself to entangle himself with your kiss, his hand pressing to your side, pulling you closer to him. He carefully pulls away, your lips separated by an inch as you both rest your foreheads against each other, your heart beating rapidly from the onslaught of possession felt. 

“So, there hasn’t been anyone else?” He softly challenges. You shake your head at him.

“Having someone after you would be like having wine after whisky.” You respond, “We can either spend this snow storm talking and reminiscing about how you fucked up, or we can catch up on lost time… between the sheets.” You gesture towards the bed, unable to control the raging sensations inside you that are ready to get themselves out. He doesn’t say another word, he stands to his feet, helping you up before engulfing you with another luscious, and passionate kiss.

List of my other Prompts found HERE

[booksummarieswithkatz]

Beneath a Blood Moon by R.J. Blain, a summary

Okay, terms to know can be found here.

Now that that’s out of the way let’s get on with the story.

WARNING: THIS FOLLOWING CONTENTS INCLUDE RAPE, PHYSICAL ABUSE, SUICIDE, AND MURDER.

Sara Madison is a stripper living in Las Vegas, at twenty-one, she has been working under a fake ID for the past three or four years, ever since she escaped her rich, controlling, and abusive father. Since Sara has no proper credentials she’s confident her father can’t track, she’s been working four gigs and paying for college one class at a time, with her current income and pace it will take her over a decade to finally get a degree and a more savory job. As the days go by she becomes more and more tempted to let go of her principles and take the extra income for going home with clients from the clubs, but despite the criticism from her coworkers she has persevered. It’s here that we begin the story.

Sara gets back at four a.m. from the club, and on her doorstep is a black funerary urn with crimson-red roses inside. Hidden among the roses is a note: These roses aren’t red, unshed blood is blue, this urn for the dead, I made just for you. One trip to vomit later and Sara is terrified, but she can’t call  the police because they will just blame it on her being a slut and then ask uncomfortable questions about her less than real records, so she heads to class like nothing happened and heads to the club. It’s then that we learn her main method for getting good tips on-stage: find a client you like, dance like it’s just for them.

When she looks out at the crowd, she doesn’t see anyone that catches her fancy until – she saw him. The hottie™. He is perfect: the right height, the right amount of muscle, a rugged handsomeness that’s not too rough but not too smooth, and these inhumanly golden-amber eyes that just scream sexy (that’s “sexy” read as “totally a werewolf”). So a very good night of tips later and Sara puts on the feathers and sequins for her next gig. On her way to the gig, she meets – surprise – the amber-eyed man and a friend of his, who hope to get some souvenir pictures. Of course they get their pictures. Hot guys always get pictures. The amber-eyed man even blushed. And has a sexy voice. And a nice ass. Priorities.

Too bad that when she gets home there is an ominous empty hourglass and another note. What a fucking buzzkill, huh? So she calls her only friend and coworker, Isabella, and hustles out to her place to crash until all this blows over, but she forgot her textbooks, so the pair wait until they finish work (the amber-eyed hottie wasn’t there this time, what a shame) and stop by Sara’s apartment. Then they get knocked out from behind.

They wake up in a shack, tied up with some shitty rope. Sara chews through the stuff and frees Isabella, but because escape attempts that don’t involve ridiculously complicated plans never seem to work in fiction, their captor appears. This douchebag’s name is Rory, and he was Sara’s boyfriend until he cheated on her just before she ran away from home. So Rory comes in and is all like “love me baby” and Sara is just like “why would I love someone I could not trust to keep his dick in his pants tho?” and he’s all like “because if you don’t ima kill both of you,” and Isabella is all like “hey, hey, hey… if I fuck will you not kill me?” to which he responds “OH YEAH.” And so the two start flim flamming their jimmie jams, while Sara – bruised but not broken – crawls out into the moonlight of the Nevada desert. The moon tonight is an eerie blood red color, and as Sara drags herself through the sand – maybe she is broken, her sternum at least – Rory and Isabella show up and start mocking her, then Rory gives one last offer *cough* death threat *cough* which she refuses cuz Rory is a bitch and Sara takes no prisoners. So Rory draws a weird pattern on the ground, and asks Isabella if she is willing to be his, then gives her a good snogging, and then they turn into giant wolves. Hungry wolves. They start eating Sara alive.

But as she screams and writhes in the sand, something comes to her, an offer for help, an offer for safety. She accepts. Sara’s new wolf howls in triumph, and turns her attackers into puddles of meat paste. Sara returns to the shack, is released from her lupine shape as the moon sets, vomits everywhere, washes herself off, and nabs some sweatpants and a shirt before setting off toward the distant lights of the city.

The night blurs, and Sara finds herself on her doorstep. She spends the next several days going between three states: horribly sick, disturbing gluttony, and the kind of lust that would impress a succubus. Her wolf is rutting, and at this point any male will do (where my gay wolves at Blain? Gimme my gay wolves dammit!). But Sara’s got her heart set on keeping herself under control, and finally convinces her wolf that she will take any man the wolf wants, so long as he fits her standards. The wolf agrees. Once she can finally stand without vomiting, shitting herself, or needing a cold shower, Sara realizes that her new diet – all meat and 25,000 calories per day – is really taxing on her bank account of two bits of string and an expired condom. So off to work she goes, and her boss is pissed. He sets her up to dance twenty minutes straight every hour (usually it’s five or ten minutes only) and demands that she keep her clothes completely on until the after-hours VIP special, not a good way to get tips. Also he tells her to glue some feathers to her ass. For some reason. Of course, she doesn’t really have a choice so she heads up on stage and oh-baby, its the amber-eyed hottie.

Now, I don’t mean to tell Blain how to write her books, but I find it suspicious and hamfisted that the amber-eyed man is the first patron she ever chose to dance for a second time, but it’s also a romance novel so I guess I can just go fuck myself (in more ways than one) and let plot convenience happen. So Sara heads out on stage, takes in the new – and in here overwhelming – aroma of male arousal, and starts putting her assets on display with a nice bit of flamenco on the pole. Now, the amber-eyed man has company again, the other man from before, and a woman who is sitting as close to on that man’s lap as she can while still looking classy; needless to say, Sara’s wolf agrees with her that amber-eyes is sex on wheels and they put on the performance of a lifetime (or something, idk, romance novel shit).

Once she’s offstage again, a coworker named Danny slaps her on the ass, tells her she’s killing it, and asks if Sara is willing to go home some VIPs, a man and his wife, that want her specifically. She says no, and Danny clarifies that they are willing to pay her twenty grand directly AND give the boss another fifty k to let her go with them immediately. Sara, because she is not an idiot, knows that this is an ultimatum, and since twenty thousand will buy a lot of food for her very demanding wolf,  she accepts. Danny says “great, now put on this dress and blindfold, and here’s some vodka to steady your nerves!” Sara agrees, because sometimes a bitch just needs a drink, and gets changed; she is then led down to her new clients’ car.

Her clients are pretty cool, surprisingly, and the man has a seriously familiar voice. They tell her that she has been hired to act as a plus one for their friend, whose wife recently passed away and has been taking it really hard lately. After some comments about how “he’s really determined” and had “better get down here before the buffet closes,” the friend, Sanders, finally shows up, angry because he “couldn’t find her.” All his complaints dry up when he opens his door and sees her though, and after the couple in front, introduced as Charles and Wendy Desmond (that’s right y’all, Big Daddy D returns!), have a nice long laugh at his expense.

Sanders, flustered and (by his scent) clearly aroused, takes off her blindfold and who guessed it? We all guessed it, he’s the amber-eyed hottie. The aforementioned arousal is mutual. The four of them drive off to the buffet and decide to have an eating contest, Sara and Sanders versus Wendy and Big Daddy D. Sara destroys them all. They head off to Cirque du Soleil, and after that to their hotel. And by hotel I mean a penthouse sweet at the Venetian ($10,000+ per night).

It’s in their hotel room as they wait for Sanders to park that Sara realizes how her wolf has gone quiet, and she’s answering questions she shouldn’t, and doing whatever she’s told without consciously agreeing to it. Wendy and Big Daddy D continue to ask her about her life and why she accepted their offer, they ask if anyone gave her something to drink who shouldn’t have. Danny spiked the vodka with wolfsbane. But, hold on, Sara thinks, why would they know it was wolfsbane whe-… they know! Sara and her wolf freak out and shift, only instead of the powerful predator they were during the full moon, they come out of an excruciating transformation as a tiny, wobbly puppy.

Sanders, Wendy, and Big Daddy D are very upset to find how new she is as a Fenerec, especially when they can tell she has no pack and no mate to protect her. They do their best to calm her down and figure out how she ended up like this since she did not go through the ritual and it’s supposed to be impossible to become a Fenerec as an adult without it. Big Daddy D confiscates Sanders’ cell phone and demands they get nasty, because apparently Sanders is the third most powerful Alpha on the continent (second is Richard Murphy and first is Big Daddy D) and his previous mate dying means that he is at a big risk of running wild, and that means his entire pack of over a hundred wolves will run wild with him, so the Inquisition has demanded he take a mate of Big Daddy D’s choosing. Big Daddy D, seeing that Sanders was going to court Sara when she was still a human and that Sara was mutually interested, is quite pleased to find that she is now a Fenerec (circumstances notwithstanding) and is therefor won’t get old and will be much sturdier than Sanders’ previous human mate. He asks Wendy to leave the room and return in wolf form, then gets her to help Sara shift back to human. They all sit and eat room service (I want this metabolism dude). He then graciously allows the two to have the room to themselves for the night and takes his wife to get a new room and perform some extracurriculars of their own.

Unsurprisingly, Sara and Sanders almost immediately take a trip to pound town. A most satisfying venture which we don’t get to read about because the book has a plot but no “plot” :(. Regardless, they form a mate bond and Sara is brought into the Seattle Pack, however, the promised warm fuzzys do not come but instead a lingering cold comes through instead. Assuming it’s normal, Sara ignores it and has breakfast with Sanders, before getting dressed and heading off to class for the day. After class Sara returns to her apartment and promptly gets kidnapped again, this is what happens when you split the party. Never split the party.

Sara awakens in a tiled room with a shower head above her, a man is standing above her and is dying her hair bright red. This man introduces himself as Kent, and promptly displays his abilities as a sorcerer by torturing Sara with magic repeatedly. It turns out that Kent is the Sorcerer that killed Sanders’ previous mate, Mary, and he plans to use their fledgling mating bond to torture and break both her and Sanders for a power boost. He drags Sara through a curtain of silver chains, hangs her by her arms from the ceiling, and positions the curtain around her on all sides, trapping her. It then revealed what else the sick son of a bitch keeps in his basement: he’s kidnapped a dozen or so male Fenerec, broken their wills, and turned them into slavering beasts capable only of sex and pain. We also meet Kent’s conspirator, a water witch named Brandy, who is aiding him in exchange for power and also some kinky mad wolf sex.

After a week of repeated torture and abuse, Kent loses his patience and decides to just make a video of him raping Sara and sending it to Sanders to really fuck him up after severing their bond and also her bond to the pack. This turns out to be a mistake, because when he unchains her legs to spread them she whips her feet around his neck and chin and snaps his fucking spine. So satisfying.

However, because this book seems to hate Sara, it’s not just sunshine and roses, because Brandy sucks up all of Kent’s extra powers and becomes ridiculously OP, she makes out with Sara (kind of unnecessary but okay), says that she’ll drown but won’t die, and floods the basement. True to her word, Sara floats in the flooded basement for another week before she gets pulled out by some Inquisitors sent to investigate the scene. The group, and you should remember their names, are Dustin (water witch), Holly (Fenerec), and her mate, Barry (also Fenerec). They get Sara lucid enough to say her name before freaking out and calling Sanders.

Sanders shows up with the kind of hurry usually reserved for a horse with it’s ass on fire, and glomps onto Sara immediately. He brings her back to the hotel, brings her back into the pack (still no warm fuzzys like she was promised), and then they “ensure” that the mating bond is properly restored. The next day, Sanders has to go do work things and wants Sara to just chill out and rest after that harrowing experience. Of course, trying to keep someone in a confined space is probably not how you should treat someone that just escaped from cage-based trauma, so Sara goes outside and sees that Sanders, helicopter mate that he is, has arranged for some big, intimidating Fenerec bodyguards to look after her. But putting someone that was just in a traumatizing situation involving lots of males she didn’t know and couldn’t trust in the exact same situation is a BAD FUCKING IDEA, Sara ditches her guards at the first possible instant, and because she is also a goody-two-shoes she goes off to her former place of work to formally tell her boss that she quits and he can go fuck himself.

The bouncer convinces her in the least suspicious way possible (they split the party again because they are idiots) and she agrees to meet her boss in his office. Of course, that was a terrible idea and the boss sticks a needle full of ketamine and wolfsbane in her arm and ties her up in a sex dungeon; someone in New York (it’s her dad) wants her enough to pay some rather excessive amounts to insure promptness. Luckily for everyone involved, Dustin, Holly, and Barry show up and rescue her again. They are even kind enough to convince Sanders and Big Daddy D not to kill everyone inside the club. Except for the bouncer, because he told Sara that when she came back from New York he was going to “enjoy breaking her and turning her into the perfect slut” and that’s not paragon at all. So he dies a horrible death and there is much rejoicing.

So everyone gets together and has a chat about why someone in New York wants Sara and decide that the best solution is to have Sara show up at the airport as if she had not been rescued and tail whoever tries to collect her. So everyone flies to New York before Sara does to set up the operation. Unfortunately Sara’s flight gets rerouted to Chicago due to bad weather and is then canceled. So Sara calls an emergency number given to her by Sanders and ends up having a chat with the Shadow Pope. They get along swimmingly and Sara asks if she can be let out of her pack because that lingering chill from the pack bond has escalated into a seething mass of hatred that crawls up her spine and beneath her skin and tries to poison her thoughts. The Shadow Pope says she can but has to be directly supervised by her mate still, also that she should call him because he’s freaking the fuck out right now. When Big Daddy D picks up the phone, he reveals that Sanders is so wild with worry that he had to be sedated, then hands her off to talk to Sanders’ second in command for the pack, Joseph. Joseph basically implies to Sara that she’s a piece of shit whore and that she should just kill herself now and save her mate the trouble. Sara responds by not escalating the conversation, not because she didn’t want to but because she gripping her cell so hard in crumples to pieces.

Now without a plan and no way to contact anyone for help (and by that I mean not thinking clearly enough to borrow a damn phone) Sara uses her cash on hand (Sanders gave her several hundred) to buy the first plane to Atlanta and then takes a nonstop bus to New York. Upon arrival in the big apple, she checks her bank account to find that the Inquisition payed her for Kent’s bounty (it’s a dizzying number of zeros). One shopping spree later, she checks in at the Plaza (where she knows Sanders is staying) and sends a package to Sanders room (containing the sexiest underwear she could find). Then heads to a big fancy party that everyone is attending to scout out who has the money to orchestrate Sara’s capture.

At the party, Sara steals the show by being gorgeous™, and Sanders shows up so hot and bothered you could fry an egg on his dick. They have a really cute moment together and then all of those feelings turn to ash when he brings her to meet Joseph, and a submissive female of the pack named Chrissy. So there they are, the two pack members sitting on a sofa staring at Sara and Sanders at the door, Sara tells Sanders that she wants out of the pack, that the pack hates her and wants her gone, and that his promises of love and family are a crock of shit and she will not stand for it even if it meant losing him. And you know what Sanders does? You know what he fucking does?! Slowly and calmly he lets go of her hand, walks away from her, and sits down next to Joseph.

So here Sara is, traumatized after multiple rounds of kidnapping and torture and abuse, she finally makes it back to the one person she can count on to support her, and he completely ignores all of her problems and gets mad at her instead. Good. Fucking. Job. Dick-knuckle. So Sara runs out of the party and to the nearby beach, she feels pretty used right now and is convinced that Sanders doesn’t want or love her and that he would want out of their mating bond if he could – but mating bonds last till death – wait… mating bonds last till death! So Sara walks into the frigid waters of New York in winter, and kills herself from hypothermia and drowning. That’s right. She did not attempt to kill herself; she succeeded in killer herself. Good. Fucking. Job. Sanders. You dick-knuckle.

So Dick-knuckle finally calms down and uses his nose to smell the reek of satisfaction coming off of Joseph and Chrissy, and realizes that – oooOOOH SHIT! - I think I fucked this up guys! And that’s when he checks the mating bond to find that she’s dead. D-E-D DEAD. As is proper for someone who realizes that they might have just drove the person they love to suicide, he freaks out and runs out to the beach. Luckily Dustin was forced to follow along and he gets his team of pet sharks to find her and bring her to shore. They then begin to furiously attempt to resuscitate her and Dustin forces her to shift to her wolf form to recover more quickly. Also, Big Daddy D gets fed up with Sanders’ shit and cleans his clock so he can’t put his foot in his mouth again by misunderstanding Sara’s emotional damage and fucking everything up more.

Once she’s awake again, Sara’s wolf takes charge and runs into the ocean again to get away from those she feels can’t be trusted (everyone). Dustin gives her the counter proposal of “I have three dozen sharks with thirty feet of you and if anyone tries to bully you I will let the sharks eat them, otherwise you can come chew Joseph and Chrissy’s faces off. Faces are high and protein and you have not been eating enough for a newly turned.” This incredibly reasonable offer of shark-bodyguards and tearing off her abusers’ faces coaxes Sara out of the water enough for Big Daddy D to pick her up and give a firm talking to about how a pack is supposed to be. He manages to convince her to join his pack (currently him and his wife) and feel what a pack should be like. The moment the bond clicks into place he showers Sara in his protective care and Wendy supplies her own brand of maternal love, it’s a pretty damn good feeling for someone who had thought that nobody loved nor supported her.

So once she is a bit less hypothermic and a bit more willing to talk, Big Daddy D, Wendy, and Dustin really sit down and listen to what Sara needs to start getting better, and at the top of that list is actually learning about how this whole mating thing works, because everyone was so caught up in their complete contexts they forgot that she knows literally fucking nothing about Fenerec society and culture. The trio finally start helping her to understand the complex knot of pack politics fuckery that just happened and how they plan to stop it from happening again and how to fix her current problems with Sanders and how protect herself from such things in the future.

So Big Daddy D says “fuck the inquisition! You want your hot boy back? I will get you your hot boy back.” And then he forcefully subjugates Sanders, takes control of the Seattle Pack, and isolates the two of them from the pack so they can slowly teach Sara how to use the pack bond. Also he reveals that not only is the Seattle Pack a bunch of fuckups for driving their alpha’s mate to suicide and sending the alpha careening over the edge of insanity, they also were driving the most valuable kind of Fenerec to their death, because Sara is an omega; meaning that Sara’s most immediate instinct is to do anything that the pack needs to keep order and stability, which seriously compounded with the fact that the feeling she was getting from the bond was that her existence was the problem that needed solving. So along the way, Desmond gives Sara the Fenerec version of the Birds and the Bees, which is consisted of: And then they both get really horny and form a mate bond, they remain infertile until they rut in the winter, which is when the female (&$#! and ^#$%&@ as well as ^&%&*$^%$ the male to make him fertile so that they can make puppies. And Sara, who just really needs to make her own damn decision for the first time since choosing Sanders as her mate, asks that Sanders stays with her for the night instead of Wendy or Big Daddy D.

So they head towards the elevator and oh boy, Joseph is in the elevator when the doors open. Sara is so surprised that she immediately lashes out and knocks him the fuck out. One punch right to the chin. She drags Joseph’s body to Sanders like a sack of potatoes and demands that he join her in her room as thanks for not killing his second. Sanders thinks that’s just about the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen aside from Sara (naked), Sara (clothed) and Sara (wolf form), in that order; he happily agrees to spending actual uninterrupted quiet time with her for the first time in the whole goddamn book why can’t they just get a normal relationship Blain? You dick.

Anyways, the couple spends a few hours just being with each other and solving their problems and figuring out how to salvage the trainwreck the pack made of their relationship, and they decide that the best course of action was simple: GIT. FUCKING.  N  A  S  T  Y  . So they fuck for about eight straight hours and also Sara on the sly decides that she’s gonna give the gift of pregnancy to Sanders, since his previous mate Mary couldn’t have kids and he’d been forced to give up the idea of being a father (why don’t Fenerec just adopt? Probably a wolf spirit thing).

NOTE: For the rest of the summary I shall attempt to spell the word “pergant” differently every time.

So although Sanders won’t know it for awhile, Sara is pergnent; this will continue to fuck up everything for the rest of the book. Everybody has a meeting about how to proceed with luring their quarry out into the open, and track down another gala for The Rich Assholes of New York (my favorite reality tv show btw). They plan to have Sanders and Sara arrive together as a married couple to taunt their prey into making a mistake.

However, because once again this book just loves to shit on Sara’s happiness, the limo driver (who works for the Inquisition) shoots Sanders with a dart gun, and he passes out. Sara tears the driver’s throat out with her teeth and grabs his gun, shooting the second assailant positioned outside her door. She makes use of the confusion to drag Sanders into a nearby lake to lose their would-be abductors, then shifts to her wolf form to keep him warm until the drugs in the dart wear off. Unfortunately, because this book just hates it’s protagonist, Sara startles awake to find that Sanders turned into his wolf at some point and he’s currently checked out and mostly wild. He leads Sara on a month long trek across the continental U.S., and becomes a hyper-aggressive near-out-of-control bestial trainwreck that barely even recognized the need to feed and protect his pregart mate.

Around the time they’re somewhere between Montana, Idaho, and Washington (they made excellent time, wow), Sara gets grabbed by a group of strangers with silver cages and collars. While Sanders does circle back to free her, they still manage to put a tight silver and metal muzzle on her. Even though she escapes with her mate, they can’t get the muzzle off, and Sanders has to feed her though the cage piece by piece, she begins starving; her purgansy is at risk. Sanders has already been starving himself to keep her fed, but it’s not enough. He goes out to hunt. He doesn’t return. Sarah starts to wander after his scent, she hasn’t eaten in days, she’s thin and weak, starving and pargnat.

Someone picks her up, it’s Richard Murphy! The bastard pretended to be a concerned motorist and snuck up on her! He helps her take the muzzle off and calls Big Daddy D. Sanders disappeared because he ran in front of Big Daddy D’s SUV and got zapped by Nicolina (if you don’t remember her from previous summaries she’s a wizard). They let Sara hear Sanders’ voice, and when Richard goes in to a convenience store to buy her some food she turns back to human form (this is still okay because the first month of pergalerncy won’t miscarry from shifting). And Richard gets a surprise eyeful of hot naked Sara before grabbing a blanket for her and driving out to a lodge Sanders’ keeps when the pack needs to get away from the city.

Everyone has a sweet reunion (and [re]introduction for Nicolina, Alex, Lisa, and Amber), and then Sara presents herself to her mate so he can finally calm the fuck down and shift back to human so they can tell the story of why they suddenly disappeared on the way to that gala.

It’s decided that someone in the pack and possibly the Inquisition is working for whoever wanted Sara in New York (it’s still her dad, I didn’t really explain it but it’s clearly foreshadowed and everything). But Sanders is an idiot still, so he demands to go to his landscaping company’s greenhouse to make sure his babies (plants not puppies) are doing well. Also Wendy got pregante so that Big Daddy D wouldn’t start burning down forests looking for Sara, because he’s basically adopted her anyway. So Wendy, Big Daddy D, Sanders, and Sara all head down to the greenhouse to check on the plants and let Sara experience Sanders’ love for his work, they get a few Inquisitors to watch the place for safety but none are allowed in because males with permanganate mates are territorial enough to start killing strangers. This is also splitting the party, since they could have had a veritable army and they are stupid for allowing it, because someone starts shooting at them and the two men go out to kill the attackers, leaving the remaining enemies free to capture the two perogent women. Slow claps all around.

So Wendy and Sara get taken to a boat and brought out to sea to evade pursuit and are placed in a room by their captors, who are also Fenerec. The leader of the abductors is a little bitch who thinks he can dominate them enough to stop their transformation at the full moon in a few days assuming they play nice. Sara says that’s some bullshit and, despite the fact that she will almost certainly cause her puppy to miscarry, changes to her wolf to protect her alpha female, Wendy. Over the next several days Sara protects her charge by ruthlessly savaging anyone who crosses her, usually because they tried to give them drugged food. But low and behold the full moon cometh and Sara uses her super-cool-omega-protagonist powers to be as dominant as she needs (really just printing a blank check there) to keep Wendy in human shape so she doesn’t erroneously terminate her pargnency.

Their captors, however, are a bunch of idiots and send in some wolves to take control back; Sara responds to this by subjugating the goons sent after her and then going full rambo on her captors. Sadly, Sara doesn’t get to kill their leader, he gets eaten by a giant fucking shark that jumps onto ship. The shark, satisfied with his meal of big stupid wolf, gives Sara a whole tuna and then leaves. Wendy tells Sara that killing everyone who knows how to pilot the boat was a bad move, also these overly friendly sharks are creepy. So a non-specific amount of time passes, with Sara still a wolf and Wendy still mad that they are drifting somewhere in the pacific, until they see land in the distance. Sara jumps off the boat and swims to shore, and Wendy soon joins her. The boat crashes onto some rocks and splinters to bits, trapping them on the island. Also it’s an island so they sort of jumped the gun on the whole “yay we’re safe” thing.

So they chill on the island, and Wendy sets a bunch of shit on fire to try to attract rescuers; Sara goes hunting and tries to keep Wendy sane, which goes pretty well until the next full moon. Sara succeeds once again in keeping Wendy human, however Wendy is getting pretty fucking pissed about her situation and starts attacking Sara when she gets close. Eventually Wendy gets so fed up that she just hops on a friendly sharks back and leaves the island altogether. Sara remains on the island since she is kinda terrified of sharks and she’s also the size of a adolescent wolf so trying to swim past the horizon is basically suicide. So she starts starving again, because the sharks left to protect Wendy and stopped giving her fish and there are only so many mice and birds a small preganta wolf can eat.

Another unknown amount of time passes and humans land on the island, it’s Dustin! YAAAAAAAY! He picks Sara up and gives his uncle a call (turns out he’s Sanders’ nephew) and says that if they let her stay as a wolf then both she and the puppy will die, and if they force her to shift to human she’ll survive and the puppy almost certainly wouldn’t. Sanders takes this really well. Psych! They have to peel him off the ceiling and sedate him while they ask Dustin to help Sara shift back to human.

Dustin pulls off a real bully for modern medicine in that he uses his powers to not only safely shift Sara back to human, but also got her puppy to shift with her; turns out Sara was paraganet with a true born Fenerec baby. So that’s pretty great.

Sanders comes onto the scene by crashing past all obstacles like a lupine cool-aid man, and he and Sara have a nice moment together and take a nap or something. Sara wakes up first and gives the Shadow Pope a call. They have a chat about how to catch the traitors in the Seattle Pack; it turns out that nobody thought to just pull all their phone records until Sara suggests it. Geniuses, the lot of them. The Shady Pope delivers all the phone records and they discover that around a dozen or so Fenerec have been communicating with a series of New York and New Jersey phone numbers; the biggest offender being a wolf from New York named Arnold, that nobody seems to know where nor when he appeared, and that Joseph was also involved up until the night Sara drowned herself.

Sara takes one look at whose number the traitors were calling and has a panic attack because it is * le gasp * her father’s number. “Oh it’s all my fault” she says, and is then told that that’s probably not true, because the communications of the traitors go back all the way to before Mary’s (Sanders’ last mate) death. It’s decided that Sara’s father is an insane rogue wolf, that he probably killed her mother trying to force her through the ritual, and that he has been aiming to destabilize and take over the Seattle Pack long before he located and targeted Sara, so yay absolvement of guilt onto the mentally ill, progressive!

Everyone has a nice good think about how to lure out Sara’s father (henceforth to be called Dig Baddy), and decide that they will have the ladies head up to an out of the way resort and the men will ambush the traitors and the rogues all together (of course the women can’t help with dangerous things, they’re all pargetna and stuff). The women take this very well. NOT. Wendy, Sara, Nicolina, Lisa, and Amber tell the guys they are going shopping, leave their phones at the hotel, grab a rental car, and book it up to Seattle (they were in Cali at this point). They then proceed to steal Sanders’ truck (not actually because the Shady Papa modified all the paperwork to be in both Sanders’ and Sara’s names) and then one of Sanders’ blankets so Sara can keep his scent with her to remain calm, as one does.

They gaggle of women head up to Canada, cross the border, and head to an Inquisition gun range. Sara tries to learn how to use a Beretta, but it turns out that she is a flinching mess with no ability to aim, however, it turns out that Sara turns from completely inept to perfect marksman when they put a fully automatic Glock 18 in her hands. Everyone recognizes that this is bullshit but if it fits and ships so they put one in her purse and call it a day.

After departing from the gun range, they leave Canada and enter Alaska, where they drive to an out of the way Inquisition airstrip to lure Dig Baddy. She gives him a call and he goes full dumbass and flies out immediately. He arrives, but with Sanders and Richard at his side. You see, Dig Baddy is convinced that the reason Sara ran away and became a stripper was because he didn’t let her have a harem and get her lady garden ravaged on the regular, so his solution is to abduct Richard and Sanders, drug them with copious amounts of wolfsbane and give them to his daughter as hot, sweaty, eager to please peace offerings. Sara responds by handing Richard a gun and saying that shooting her dad would give her the greatest pleasure possible. A Glock 18 empties a 32 bullet magazine in two seconds. Dig Baddy goes from deranged idiot to puddle of meat paste in about that long.

Sara tells Richard that he can’t follow any orders he doesn’t want to if they don’t come from her, and then they get Nicolina to cover the runway in ice so the next plane that comes (filled with Dig Baddy’s goons and the Seattle Pack traitors) will run into the first plane and turn into one hell of a fireball. It works, and they all head back to Seattle to find out what happened to Big Daddy D and company.

They learn that the Inquisition had put Big Daddy D and the rest of the group into protective custody so they wouldn’t run wild without their mates, and they all head to the Desmond’s house to chill. Sara realizes that Sanders misses his pack and decides she needs to deal with her trauma with them so she asks Joseph to bring over all the members he thinks Sanders needs to cheer up. 80 wolves end up in the Desmond residence, and Sara gets over her issues with them after a round of pointing her Glock at them followed by some good old fashioned cuddles. Also, the Shady Poopy bought them a nice house using the bounty technically owed to Sara for dealing with a pack of rogue Fenerec (judging from mentions in other books, it’s like 5 million dollars per head). The End.