#enough that almost 14 years with him wasn’t nearly long enough

[whathasangramainyudonewrong]

Wrong #630

No, it’s absolutely precious that you found a cat that loves shoes as much as Baobhan Sith does, that’s not the question here

The question I want answered is what universe you live in where you think letting any animal lay on Baobhan Sith’s precious high heels is an action that will end in anything other than pain for you

[blue-lights-to-dreams]

Golden Light (pt. 2) // H.S.

part 2 to Golden Light! please read that first if you haven't already!

synopsis: you and Harry go back to your apartment after your date, and learn a little more about each other in the process.

warnings: smut, kissing, fingering (f receiving), i think that's it?

wc: 3.6k

a/n: the (maybe) long-awaited sequel to Golden Light as so many of you requested! thank you all so much for all of the love on that work, i'm so happy you guys enjoyed it. let me know what you think of this and if you'd like to see a part 3! :)

----------

The crackle of the fireplace (and the wine you were drinking) was almost enough to soothe your nerves. Almost. 

You and Harry were sprawled on your living room floor, backs against the couch, enjoying the heat radiating from the fire as Harry described what he had gotten his family for Christmas this year. It was only the beginning of December, but he had everyone’s gifts already. He was so prepared, and the gifts he picked were so thoughtful. Each came with a backstory of exactly why he chose it, usually after the person mentioned something in passing once or twice. 

A vintage whale-shaped coffee mug for his sister, who’d talked about how much she enjoyed a documentary about them over brunch one day. A beautiful landscape by a local painter for his mother after she admired another of her works when they’d gone to the art museum. He’d even gotten a custom doll made for his goddaughter after she complained one day that none of the ones at the store looked like her.

You’d picked out a riesling from your small stash of wine when you two arrived at your flat, remembering that’s what Harry preferred. You’d quickly changed into soft shorts and a graphic t-shirt, needing out of your dress, before the two of you settled on the floor and fell back into comfortable chatter.

It was probably for the better that he was the one speaking at the moment, because you could feel your head get fuzzier with each sip from your glass. As much as you tried to stay focused, you couldn’t help but run your eyes up his frame. He’d draped his blazer over the back of one of your barstools as he’d come in, leaving him in just his slacks and half-unbuttoned dress shirt. He looked stunning.

Harry noticed the way you were looking at him but elected not to say anything as he continued his story. “I’m really hoping she’s going to like it. How about you? Anything special you’ve gotten for anyone?”

His question snapped you out of your mild stupor, and you racked your brain. “Not really – I’m not nearly as prepared as you are. I only need to get a couple of things, though. Just something for my mom and a few for my friends. Nothing major.”

“No siblings?” He asked.

“Nope. Well, I do have them, but they’re my step-siblings, and I don’t think I’ve seen them since I was like 14 or so. My dad kind of packed them up and ran for the hills with his new wife at that point.” Your statement was blunt, and you picked at the skin around your nails as you explained. It wasn’t anything you had a hard time discussing anymore, given it had been upwards of 10 years. 

“Wow, I’m sorry to hear that,” Harry looked like he didn’t know what to say. You probably should have said that differently, you thought, not wanting to overshare and make him uncomfortable.

“It’s fine, Harry. It was a long time ago, and probably for the better. My mom and I have only gotten closer since then, and I wouldn’t change it.” He nodded in understanding with a small smile but didn’t respond, letting his gaze drift to the artwork hung over the mantle of the fireplace.

A hush fell between the two of you, the noise of the fire and your creaky New York City radiator the only things audible. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, just calm and peaceful. You stood to open the window – the heat was getting to be too much. It was nearing midnight at this point, so there wasn’t much commotion on your street, but the sound of cars driving by now and then was familiar and soothing.

You returned to your seat, slightly closer to Harry than you had been previously. He seemed deep in thought, arm draped lazily over the seat of the couch behind him. His eyes hadn’t left the window after they followed your movement there.

“Whatcha thinking about?” You questioned softly, turning to face him and pulling your knees to your chest, leaning to rest your shoulder against the cushions. You didn’t mean to pry, but you wanted to know what was going on inside that pretty head of his.

“Honestly,” he exhaled, brows furrowing slightly, “you.”

“Me?” Not the answer you’d expected.

“Yes, you,” he spoke with a hint of teasing, flashing a quick smile at you before glancing away. “I was thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve enjoyed myself this much on a date. I really like you, Y/N.” His eyes returned to yours like they were searching for your response.

His earnestness left you speechless for a moment. You stared back at him - his eyes were so green, so beautiful, like waves were crashing against white sand just behind his pupils.

“I like you too, Harry.” He relaxed slightly, shifting his position a hair. “This is definitely the best date I’ve been on in a long time.” You weren’t always great at expressing emotion, but it was only fair for him to know how you felt too.

He grinned, then, and pushed himself up to slide closer to you on the floor. His eyes were still locked on yours, both of you smiling at each other like giddy teenagers. His arm was almost around you now but remained on the couch as you lowered your legs, returning them to a cross-legged position. Harry reached forward, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear before allowing his hand to rest gently on the side of your neck, thumb caressing your jawbone slowly. He looked you up and down, again admiring how gorgeous you looked before flitting his eyes to your lips. 

He inhaled briskly, hand not halting its movements on your face. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, of course. You don’t have to ask, but I appreciate it.” As much as you liked Harry being a gentleman, right now, you honestly just wanted him to be anything but.

He nodded quickly before pulling you forward, pressing his lips to yours. It started with slow, gentle movements of your lips together, but quickly became much more desperate. His hands roamed your face before moving to your waist, gripping the skin above your hips just firmly enough to drive you crazy. Your hands were pressed to his chest over his thin silk shirt, and you could feel the muscles there flex as he moved his hands around your body. You weren’t normally one to care about muscles, but something about his drove you crazy.

Harry’s thumbs brushed your lower ribs as he deepened the kiss, stealing your breath for a moment. Your hands instinctively moved to his hair, fingers knotting through and gently gripping his short curls. A small groan left his throat, shooting straight to your core. His hands suddenly gripped your hips harshly, lifting you to pull you into his lap. He swallowed the small gasp you let out as he did so, flattening his hands on your back to pull you against him as you settled on his thighs. The kiss was sloppy, now, almost depraved, as he tried to pull you as close as physically possible. The way you were tugging his hair was driving him wild, you could tell, and it only encouraged you.

You pulled away from his mouth for just a second as your fingers moved to toy with the small buttons of his shirt. “Can I take this off?”

“Please,” Harry sighed, loosening his grip on you so you had the space to work. As you undid the last button, he pulled away from the couch and shrugged the shirt off, allowing it to fall onto the floor behind him.

He was breathtaking. At dinner, you could see the tattooed heads of what you assumed to be two small birds peeking out from under his shirt, but you weren’t expecting him to have so many more. Those swallows sat just underneath his collarbone, above a large butterfly on his stomach that almost appeared lifelike, the ink stretching and compressing as he breathed. His left arm was nearly covered in various small symbols and words, and you made a mental note to ask about them later. 

Your hands returned to his chest, this time without barriers. The skin there was soft to the touch but you could feel the firm muscle underneath. It was warm. Hot.

The corner of Harry’s mouth twitched as he tried to suppress a smirk at your wide-eyed gaze. After a few seconds of letting you stare, he pulled your lips back to his, unable to wait. It was just as desperate as before.

His large hands slowly slid down your back as your mouths moved together, finding the hem of your shirt before reaching underneath it to grab your hips. The feeling of his warm hands contrasted with the cold metal of the rings he wore, pulling a small gasp from you.

His firm grip on your hips was short-lived as his hands quickly began drifting upwards, thumbs slightly massaging your lower ribs. Fingers splayed on your back, Harry felt you pant into the kiss, unable to catch your breath.

He pulled away for a second, removing his hands from your skin. A small groan escaped you at the loss of warmth, which you hoped Harry didn’t notice. One hand moved to hold your face and the other bunched the hem of your shirt and tugged on it slightly. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked, not breaking eye contact. He needed to make sure you were okay with it, just like he would with whatever else ended up happening that night.

You nodded quickly, helping him lift the shirt over your head and toss it onto the floor beside you. He gripped your shoulders and pushed you away slightly so he could see you.

Harry thought you were stunning. His eyes raked longingly over every inch of you - shoulders, arms, breasts, and stomach, taking it all in. His hands slid off your shoulders to press against your ribs again, thumbs brushing the skin just under your bra. He tore his eyes away from the fabric and skin, gazing at you slack-jawed with blown-out pupils.

“Y’so beautiful, Y/N,” he panted, words slurred slightly from the breathlessness, and your heart just about burst in your chest. You weren’t used to being looked at like this, and it made you nervous, but the look in Harry’s eyes told you there was nothing to be afraid of. He didn’t look like he just wanted to fuck you – he looked like he wanted to worship you.

Instead of a response, you smashed your lips back to his. One of the hands gripping your ribs shifted to cup you over your bra, and you couldn’t help the moan that you let out. This only spurred Harry on as he followed suit, groaning into your mouth. The noise was divine – a low, throaty rumble that went straight to your core.

You needed more of his skin on you. Now. 

You reached behind yourself and unhooked your bra, shaking it off your shoulders until it dropped to the floor on top of your shirt. While you appreciated Harry asking for permission to continue with everything, you couldn’t wait until he worked up the nerve to ask you before feeling his bare hands on your chest.

He took your invitation to continue grasping at your breast, this time with no barrier. A louder moan left you as his thumb brushed over your nipple, electricity pulsing through your veins. Harry groaned into your mouth again, his other hand resting on your ass and bringing it forward until you sat directly on top of his length. It pressed deliciously against you, pulling another gasp from your throat. He was hard beneath you as you ground back on him, hips rocking in sync with the kiss.

You broke away for a moment to catch your breath, continuing to move against him. Your head fell back until you were panting up at the ceiling. Harry wasted no time in connecting his lips with your neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, licks, and soft bites along it and down to your shoulder blades. The room was quiet apart from the symphony of both of your breathing, the crackle of the fire, and the odd car passing by.

He continued to kiss down your body to the soft tissue of your breast, capturing your nipple in his mouth. The feeling was heaven as his tongue flicked the bud before moving to the other side, his thumb replacing it. His other hand was reaching down your stomach to the button of your shorts, toying with the seams of the fabric. He removed his mouth from you, and you had to hold back a whine of disappointment.

“Is it alright if we get these off of you?” he asked tenderly, staring into you again. You nodded hastily, helping him unbutton them and lifting your hips so he could pull the fabric down your legs and over your knees. You kicked them off, leaving you in just your underwear as he looked you up and down again.

With the layer of fabric gone, your center met his again. You could feel the warmth radiating from his shaft as you pressed onto him, the two of you both groaning in pleasure. The rigid zipper of his pants rubbed firmly against your clit addictively.

A sudden wave of insecurity rushed over you as you realized the situation you’d put yourself in. Here you were, on a blind date with a near stranger, and you were already sitting on top of him in just your underwear while he was still in his pants. It wasn’t like you to give in to a man this quickly, but Harry’s face and smile and body and charm had gotten into your head and pushed away your ability to reason. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be doing this - it was quite the opposite, you were having a lovely time. You just didn’t want Harry to think you were easy, or that this was your plan.

You didn’t realize your movements against Harry had stilled until he was holding your face again, forcing you to look at him. He knew you were in your head about something, and he needed to find out what before taking things any further.

“Y/N, hey, what’s wrong? Do y’need to stop?” His voice was thick with concern as he searched your eyes for discomfort. You shook your head hurriedly, not wanting him to think you weren’t enjoying yourself.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you sighed, face flushing in embarrassment. “I’m just– I’m not usually the type to fuck on the first date. I don’t want you to think that was all I wanted from you.”

“Well, ‘f it helps, I wasn’t planning on having sex with you tonight.” Before you could react negatively (as you were about to) he quickly continued, “I just want to make you feel good tonight. You said you’ve been stressed out all week about work, and I just want to make that go away for you for a while. S’that okay, baby?”

Of course, he knew the perfect thing to say. Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head at how considerate he was, and the pet name at the end was the cherry on top. “That sounds really nice. Thank you, Harry.”

He chuckled before lifting your hips off of his and setting you on the floor next to him, making sure you were close to the fireplace so you didn’t get cold. His hands prompted you to turn your body so you were parallel to the couch. One hand took root in your hair while the other caressed the bare skin on your hip as he kissed you again, slower this time. Harry used your hair as leverage to slowly pull you down until you were on your back on the floor, him slotted between your open legs.

“I want to take care of you, sweetheart, is that okay?” As if you would say no.

Your whiny ‘yes’ was rewarded with his hands caressing your inner thighs slowly, teasingly. You assumed you were noticeably soaked, the baby pink cotton of your underwear unforgiving when it came to hiding your arousal. He massaged the soft skin, moving upwards until his thumb brushed over the fabric’s seam nestled in the crease of your thigh. Your hips moved of their own accord, lifting in search of any friction they could find. Harry tsked quietly, securing a hand on your hip and pushing it back down on the floor.

He rolled onto his side from between your legs, supporting himself on an elbow with his hand cradling your head and wrapping an ankle around your leg to keep them open. His other hand traced a soft line over the wet patch between your legs, fingers brushing your clit with a feather-light touch. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Harry, please,” you whined, trying to regulate your breathing. 

He chuckled teasingly. “What d’you need, baby? Use your words.”

“I need –” you cut yourself off, unsure of why you were embarrassed to say it when you knew he already knew what you wanted. “I need you to touch me, please.”

That was all he needed before he slipped his fingers underneath your underwear and swiped them through your wet folds. The contact was heavenly, forcing a choked moan from your throat as he drew circles around your clit in a precise rhythm. He was obviously experienced, building that warm feeling in your stomach faster than even you could yourself.

“Need these off,” he ordered, tugging your underwear down your legs and helping you kick them off before he hooked an ankle around your knee and spread your legs again. His hand returned to your core, this time with his thumb pressing on your clit and his middle finger teasing your entrance. Your soft groan encouraged him to slide it into you, pulling a myriad of lush sounds from your mouth as he pumped in and out. When he curled his fingers into you and brushed against the spongy patch that felt so good, you thought you were a goner. That was until he slipped his ring finger in alongside his middle and picked up his motions on your clit once more. It didn’t take long at all for you to reach the edge, the feeling building in your insides until you felt like a rubber band about to snap.

“Harry, I’m gonna –” a prolonged moan interrupted your statement.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he spoke softly in your ear, leaving a small kiss on your cheekbone. “Let it go for me.”

That was all you needed. The rubber band inside you snapped, and your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami. You clenched tightly around Harry’s fingers, hips writhing, as he worked you through your release. He whispered praises in your ear but you could barely hear them as the room seemed to disappear, leaving just you and the feeling of Harry’s touch. You had to grip his wrist to remove his hand from you after a few seconds, the continued motion turning overstimulating quickly. 

After taking a moment to catch your breath, you rolled onto your side to throw an arm around Harry’s neck and pull him closer to you. Your nakedness was catching up to you as not even the warmth from the fireplace was enough.

Harry quickly realized how cold you were and turned to grab the throw blanket off of the couch, draping it over both of you. That was something you were quickly learning about Harry – he was very attentive, and he seemed to be able to anticipate your needs before you even realized them yourself.

After a few moments of quiet, the sounds of your breathing mixing with the other ambient noises, you spoke. “Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything for you? I feel bad leaving you, you know, high and dry.”

He laughed, leaning down to press a kiss against your hair. “I promise m’okay, Y/N. What you can do for me, though, is let me clean you up and get you in bed. Our backs are going to kill us tomorrow if we stay on this floor any longer.”

----------

After Harry helped you clean up and change into a fresh pair of pajamas, he slipped out of his trousers, leaving him in just his boxers. You’d both crawled into your bed, and you rested your head against his bare chest as his arm stroked small circles on your shoulder. It took everything in you not to fall asleep, but you didn’t want this night with him to end quite yet.

“Harry?” you whispered, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere in the room with your words.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Thank you for everything tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed myself this much, and I just want you to know how much I appreciate that.”

“Y’ don’t have to thank me – I had just as good of a time. You’re really special, Y/N. I’d love to do this again, if you’d let me?”

“Which part?” you laughed, “the dinner part or the after-dinner part?”

“Well, honestly, preferably both.” You were both laughing now, his stomach muscles tensing under your hand. 

“I think I’d be okay with that,” you agreed, knowing deep down you’d probably beg on your hands and knees for him to let you see him again.

“Thank you, baby. Now get some sleep.” He pressed another kiss to your hair and pulled you tighter to his chest, his other hand ensuring the blankets were tucked snugly around your shoulders before he allowed his body to sink back against the pillows. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Harry.” You drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a certain brown-haired boy that you knew wouldn’t be leaving your mind anytime soon.

[siriusremusblack]

Ehh..

Ok. Seriously- even if Snape wasn’t a spy for the order or even a death eater to begin with, and just a guy with unresolved traumatic issues in his childhood- why would he be expected to be nice to Harry?

I MEAN. Harry literally took one look at Snape (and Quirrell) in the great hall, felt his scar burn and immediately decided it was Snape’s fault. He didn’t consider that maybe it was another teacher or maybe a student next to him. He immediately thought that Severus Snape was the reason for his scar hurting. There was no evidence to really support that theory other than the burning of the scar.

Not only that- but this student (Harry) repeatedly got in trouble, sassed Sev/talked back, and when Harry did learn that it was really Quirrell that was the one trying to steal the stone and SEVERUS WAS LITERALLY HELPING HIM THE ENTIRE TIME FROM QUIRRELL HIMSELF- he still decided to have that unfair bias towards him.

PLUS, Harry acted similarly to that of James at times (from Sev’s perspective). Strutting around the school as one example- he was also treated similarly to James by the other staff. He’d get in trouble but he wouldn’t receive that bad of a punishment just detentions and he was even rewarded house points.. and not to mention McGonagall breaking the rule of first years not being allowed their own broom for Harry..

Harry also looked very similar to James (his father, for those that don’t know) which was likely a HUGE trigger since James not only Bullied Severus as a child but stalked, harassed, SA’D/S*xually harassed, and almost murdered him. Then there’s the fact that he also had his mother’s eyes, Lily Evans, who was a childhood friend of Sev. One of his only friends until he lost her, twice. Harry looked at Sev all the time with contempt and disdain. He basically hated the man from day one when he originally saw him in the great hall. He had lily’s eyes. Those eyes were the ones staring at Snape with hatred. Everyday. Until Harry finally realized how messed up that actually was in the end.

So yeah. Excuse me, but I don’t see any reason for Sev to even want to be nice to a kid like that. There isn’t any reason to be- especially when he’s dealing with 11-18 year olds on a daily basis, all day. They all have different maturity levels and being a teacher and teaching one grade of students is already hard enough. Imagine teaching multiple grades???? Oh and then there’s the fact he was risking his life for 14+ years (probably closer to 20+ honestly) with barely any actual recognition or appreciation. He was a spy for so long and he had no one. Everyone hated him and for what? Because he was strict? So were the other staff members.

Plus if we also take into account the other aspects of teaching instead of just the actual teaching- that is a lot more work as well. There’s planning assignments, watching over the students, grading assignments and much more- and being a professor you’re always learning the new information that comes in on the subject(s) you’re teaching. There’s also staff meetings. He also had order meetings and death eater meetings. There’s also stocking his potions store, doing detention shifts. We also see that he helps patrol school grounds after curfew so there’s that as well. This man has so many jobs and you expect him to be nice to some bratty 11 year old that immediately decided he was bad? Like what?

And this man is autistic coded (he was based off an autistic man so the likelihood he is autistic is pretty high and practically canon I’d say but that’s my own opinion and a topic for another time) OH and he is canonically extremely traumatized with zero support system and we all know prolonged childhood trauma causes multiple different kinds of disorders that will never go away (but can have symptoms lessened through therapy, which was not made available for Sev.) AND NOT TO MENTION A TEACHERS SALARY IS HORRID. This man does not get payed nearly enough to deal with Hogwarts students, order members, death eaters and the other Hogwarts staff.

GIVE SEV A BREAK ALREADY.

[goblinhoursinsomniaramblings]

I Know Those Eyes, Part 1

one dramatic in-universe reveal per chapter, let's go!

writing based purely on vibes, but i do have an actual plot brewing.

@grimdarling69 made more feel free to dm things you might want different

Prologue here

Tim had been the first to see the shape of his family’s future collective stress nightmares.

He’d been right there, after all. He had been asleep in the Batcave when Damian had decided to… he’d been right there, waking up to a single chance, loud noise Damian normally would have never made, with a chance to stop him, bring him to the others, talk it out, find a solution to whatever Luthor had been planning with concentrated Lazarus water. But he hadn’t woken up fast enough.

He had nightmares about that night for years. Sometimes, he knows exactly what’s going to happen and lets it happen anyway. Sometimes, he gets Damian to promise he’ll talk it out, only for him to run when Tim’s back is turned. The worst are the ones where he stops him, and everything works out for the best, and Tim wakes up and remembers what actually happened. Sometimes, he wakes up after getting to see Damian grow up, take on a new mantle, and haze a new Robin.

He always dismissed those dreams as filtering a fresh wave of grief through his knowledge of forensic analysis. He’d seen both Talia and Bruce, therefore he could map rough predictions of what he would grow up to look like, once he hit various milestones. It was all academic, since he would never get the chance to prove what he would have… been.

At least up until Oracle called him to verify something.

(“Red Robin, I need a judgment call.”

“A judgment call? Seriously? What exactly is stopping you from sending this to–”

“Luthor might be alive again. Check the footage I’ve sent you.”)

And… sure enough… here Tim was, three cups of coffee into an all-nighter, manually highlighting every shot in the security camera footage he’d been sent of a visiting CEO of a new tech startup that showed the man’s features. Which, actually, weren’t a lot, but once he started going through them all–yeah, that was Luthor alright. Same build, same face, the only thing that son of a bitch did was grow hair.

Like that wouldn’t have been the first disguise anyone who saw Lex Luthor would have suggested. Hair! Long, practically a lion’s mane of the stuff, tied into a low ponytail, with one of those chin beard things to hide the shape of his face more! All of it silvered by age and possible Lazarus contamination, and he hated that Luthor might purposely be affecting a ‘silver fox’ look.

And the worst part is it would have worked if anyone had removed him from the high priority list for being flagged for recognition. Tim almost had, but… Lazarus water. A mysterious death around concentrated Lazarus water. And apparently he had been, once again, completely right!

Tim had been furious by the time he’d combed through enough angles of his face getting out of a sleek black car to confirm, without a doubt, who he was. But then, the passenger side door had opened. All his anger had become shock. His hands shook as he opened a different, far more heavily encrypted profile.

Damian Wayne, priority 0.

Almost nothing came back an exact match, of course. The growth between 14 and 18 would have affected every feature, and the footage wasn’t nearly good enough to lift a retinal pattern or fingerprint from a distance (he noted the black gloves and mirrored shades blocking both), not to mention forensic prediction wasn’t an exact science, and beyond all of that, he could be totally wrong and Luthor was hauling out a clone, or a doppelgänger-

But as each feature lined up in his predictive model, as he watched the young man get out, brusquely close his door, and fall in at Luthor’s side without a word, a (surprisingly slight, far closer to Talia than Bruce) shadow falling into his wake like it was old habit, Tim felt certain he was right. He was certain he had dreamed of a world where Damian lived long enough to have that exact face. He called Oracle back.

“Hey, Oracle? I need a judgment call.”

***

It had taken minutes for Vlad and Danny to begin calling each other by their original names again. It had taken far longer, however, to get back to a familiar dynamic.

Oh, in the short term, it hadn’t been a problem at all. However, it was simply a matter of fact they had both led very different lives before remembering who they were meant to be. Vlad’s disgust at who he had been had colored much of his early days reclaiming his ghost half, and Daniel…

A childhood as a trained assassin had not been kind on the boy. Parts of Damian Al Ghul had needed to be chipped away over these last few years, most especially the fear of the League of Assassins that still hummed through him. Thankfully, Vlad had some help on that front and oh flaky pastry he was smiling again-

Though on second thought he supposed a warm and fatherly smile would help distance himself from ‘Lex’ Luthor. Yes, Lionel Vladimir Luthor, CEO and founder of VladCo, would be a man of warmth and fatherly compassion, and absolutely no one would suspect how thoroughly he could destroy them until they had dared to cross the line.

“You know we passed a dozen security cameras, right?” came a quiet voice to his left, the young man’s eyes flashing an even brighter green on occasion behind the shaded glasses he used to mask as Vlad’s bodyguard.

Oh, Daniel. So paranoid these days.

“Really? I only counted eight,” he replied, as the two of them were waved in by the desk clerk of their hotel.

“You’re not being creative enough with the word ‘security’. We’re meeting investors with ties to organized crime.”

Ah. So they were connected to weapons instead of larger networks of cameras. Classic Gotham City logic. Why only be corrupt, when you could be corrupt and violent? Though, it wasn’t as if he and his companion had to be careful anymore.

It had taken years to get to this point. Reclaiming their ghost halves, their powers, their lairs, their titles–their many, many titles, in Daniel’s case. Not to mention dear Daniela and Dante had taken years to recover, were still recovering, really, but at least now they could be comfortable staying with a substitute caregiver-

“Oh, any word from Frostbite?” he asked absently as he plugged the number code into the elevator to bypass the purposefully broken button for their intended floor. He had never encountered these kinds of silly little spy games after regaining his memories, it was almost endearingly pointless now.

“Nothing critical,” Daniel said with a small smile as they found their way to their specific unmarked door.

That meant there were pictures. Well. Good reason to get this nonsense done quickly. He raised a hand to knock.

“Game face, badger. We have a foundation to lay here.”

“Right back at you, frootloop,” said Daniel, slipping back into the resting scowl of his new childhood.

Honestly. Spy games. Next to what he and Daniel had planned?

Minor leagues.

***

-dramatic reveal in this chapter: the lazarus tech event brought back its victims.

-i don’t want to spoil their whole plan here but they’ve got obsessions to feed that are aligning super well right now and vlad wants to take the opportunity to show he cares and ruthlessly fuck over people who have personally wronged daniel/damian along the way.

-yes i am referencing the name used by luthor's father in the tv show, but in practice i'm referring to the time superman died and luthor pretended to be his own son, replete with luxurious hair.

[writeforfandoms]

Waking Lions 14

Find the series masterlist

We learn more about Ace's past and her connection to Kate. Also, she finally gets a meal.

Warnings: swearing, past violence, mention of past murder, Ace is still morally gray, Price still needs his own warning.

Word count: 1.7k

Captain went out first, making sure the way was clear for you as you locked up. You hiked your bag a little higher up on your shoulder and followed him down and out to the street, where an SUV was waiting for you. 

“Ma’am.” Garrick nodded to you from the driver’s seat, and you settled in the back. 

You looked out the window, tired and a little detached after everything. A quick look showed that you’d been working for nearly twelve hours straight. That was… less than ideal. 

“Here.” 

You blinked and refocused your gaze on Captain, who’d twisted enough to hand a water bottle back to you. 

“Thanks.” You took the water, twisting the cap off slowly and taking a drink. You were definitely dehydrated, but you drank slowly, sips at a time, gaze unfocused. 

It had been a hell of a couple days. 

Honestly, now that you were thinking about it, you were surprised Laswell had noticed so fast. Was it just timing? Or had she gotten word of Gray poking around? 

“Nearly there.” 

Captain’s voice made you blink rapidly, lifting your head. Both men were facing forward, which was a bit of a relief. 

You still weren’t sure how you were going to deal with Captain yet. 

Garrick parked and a moment later Captain was opening your door for you. You almost made a teasing remark about him being a gentleman, but… Well, that was too much effort, and you were tired. You just shuffled after him, watching for Kate. 

Kate spotted you first, your eyes locking across the distance. You sighed, long and slow. Oh, this was not going to be fun.

But you still let yourself be herded to a seat across from her, plopping down ungracefully. That didn’t matter. You didn’t need to be graceful right then. 

“What happened?” She looked between all three of you. 

You picked up the menu and held it in front of your face. Captain could start this one. 

“Found her working,” Captain said after a few moments of thick silence. “No evidence of anyone else watching. I doubt anyone knows she’s here.” 

“And why are you here?” Laswell pulled the menu down to stare at you. Damn. She was too good at making you admit things. 

“Gray found me.” It was not any easier to admit aloud, even after all the work you’d put in burning three aliases. “Got a call from one of my clients, she informed me that he was asking around after me.” You let the menu fall to the table, exhausted all over again. Your hands were shaking. Just a little. 

Laswell frowned, leaning back a little in her chair. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure I’m not willing to risk it,” you shot back, tucking your hands under your thighs. Not that you really thought they had missed your shakiness. 

“Which contact?” Laswell tapped her fingers on the table. “Who told you?” 

You frowned at her. “No.” 

“I need to know where to start looking.” 

You sighed, tipping your head back. Valeria had called you, but she’d said he had been asking around. Okay. Gray wasn’t the type who went to underlings, so he hadn’t been asking Las Almas in particular. He’d been asking around that layer of criminal organization. Valeria knew some Russians and some AQ, which was how she’d gotten mixed up in the missile business. 

It was possible that White was just a coincidence… But now you weren’t so sure. Especially given that the last place you’d heard about Gray was in the Middle East. And the Russians had ties to AQ. 

In retrospect, you were amazed you hadn’t put the pieces together sooner. 

“He’s probably working with AQ, or adjacent to them.” You spoke quietly, without looking at any of them. 

“He wasn’t that eager to watch the world burn,” Laswell pointed out.

“Last conversation either of us had with him was years ago,” you pointed out, dull, flat. “It’s likely his morals have further skewed. Or he’s decided the ends justify the means. Or he thinks he’s using them for his own ends.” You shrugged, just a little movement. 

Captain nudged you, and then again when you didn’t straighten up fast enough for him. “You need to eat.”

You thought about arguing, you really did. But he wasn’t wrong. You flapped a hand at him, letting the others order first as you scanned the menu until you found something vaguely appetizing. Good enough. 

“So who is this guy?” Garrick asked, glancing between you and Laswell. 

“Crazy asshole,” you muttered, leaning back in your seat again. Your eyes burned a little from too many hours spent staring at a screen. 

“Bad news,” Lazwell added. “He’s got ties to weapons smuggling, but he hadn’t previously been a terrorist.” 

You grimaced but shrugged. Eh. Close enough. 

“And why does he want to kill you?” Captain spoke quietly. You could feel his gaze on you. 

“He’s wanted to kill me for years.” Your voice was too flat. This was a tone you hadn’t heard from yourself in years. You didn’t like hearing it now. “He decided to take over my father’s business a long time ago, had him killed, tried to have me killed. Didn’t work, obviously.” 

“The fact that you turned witness against him didn’t help his opinion any,” Kate pointed out. 

You huffed softly. “And you still couldn’t keep him locked up.” But there was no vitriol in your voice. This had happened a long time ago, you’d come to terms with it already. 

“You’re staying with someone until we get this sorted.”

That got you to lift your head and glower at her. “No.”

“If he knows you’re alive and he’s searching for you, you’re in danger. Until we can deal with him, you shouldn’t be alone.” 

You grimaced. She wasn’t wrong, exactly, but you hated it. “Don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“You can stay with us.”

You blinked at the unexpected offer from Captain. “I dunno,” you drawled. “Sure you won’t try to kill me?” 

He huffed out a soft laugh. “Not on my to-do list,” he agreed glibly. 

“Good.” Laswell looked between the two of you with something very much like satisfaction, which was setting off all kinds of little alarms in your brain. Kate trying to meddle in your life was very much not a good thing. “We can discuss what you still need to do.”

You narrowed your eyes a little at her. “In terms of…?” 

“Your research.”

You blew out a soft breath. Right. Research. The thing you were supposed to be doing before you heard about Gray. “Dunno what more I can get,” you admitted, rubbing your forehead briefly. Now that you were actually paying attention to your body, you definitely had a dehydration headache. “Especially not without getting any closer to Gray.”

“You think he’s involved?”

“I think I’d be a fool to assume otherwise at this point.” You rolled your shoulders, drinking half your water in one go. 

Laswell was silent for a few long moments, just watching you. It didn’t make you nervous, not after all this time. Sure, you didn’t want her meddling, but you trusted her. 

“We’ll discuss this more after you’ve slept on it,” she decided. 

You scoffed but didn’t argue. You didn’t have the energy for that. Food arrived and you all ate, though Captain and Garrick talked quietly. You just focused on your food, working through it with a sort of exhausted determination. 

“I’ll do some looking on my side,” Laswell said, looking at Captain. You forced yourself to pay attention, though you were fading fast now that some of the frantic desperation of the situation had faded. 

Captain nodded. “Tomorrow, then?” 

“Tomorrow,” Laswell agreed. 

Captain stood, as did Garrick. It took Captain nudging your chair for you to stand as well, holding back a groan. Yup. You’d definitely spent too many hours hunched over your computer. The three of you were silent as you walked back to the car, Captain opening the door for you again. 

“Do you have everything from that apartment?” Captain asked you. 

You blinked, slow and sleepy. You needed to not be, but you’d hit your limit. The food had really cemented your fate - rather than invigorating you, the food was sending you on the fast lane to snooze land. So it took you longer than normal to answer him. “Yeah.” 

He nodded once, glancing back at you as Garrick started to drive. “You’ll stay with one of us.” 

“Bossy.” You made a face but couldn’t muster the energy to truly fight him. Not on this. Not now. 

He huffed softly. But he didn’t say anything else. Something you were rather grateful for. 

You weren’t up to your normal verbal jousting just at the moment. 

The drive to their hotel was silent, and you slowly tipped sideways into the door. Your blinks got longer and slower as you struggled to stay awake, the quiet climate controlled air too soothing. 

The car stopped and your door opened. You probably would have slid right out except for Captain bracing you, chest firm under your shoulder and temple. 

“C’mon,” he rumbled softly. “Just get upstairs and you can sleep.”

“Not sleepy,” you grumbled, just to be contrary. But you could barely peel your eyes open, instead listing harder into him until he reached across you to unbuckle your seatbelt. 

You did make sure you had your bag, though. You needed that. And you refused to give it up. 

“Up we go,” Captain murmured, soft and amused and rumbly and entirely too pleasant. You stumbled a little, but Captain held you upright and kept his arm around your waist, guiding you inside. 

You didn’t pay much attention to anything, too tired and out of it to bother to try. Captain wouldn’t let you get killed. Or grabbed. Not while he was right next to you, anyway. 

A door opened and Captain pulled you through. A moment later he was gently tipping you into a bed, and you sighed as you went entirely limp. He huffed and pulled your shoes off for you. 

“Sleep well, love,” he murmured, one finger gently touching your temple. 

And you were out.

[anatomic-girl]

Zee whispered to Crowley, “I’m sure you looked incredible in eyeliner. Even imperfect eyeliner. Wish I could have seen it.”

“Never did figure out how to do it properly. Lucas had impossible standards.”

“His loss.”

The look Crowley gave him was almost startled. He blinked a few times and then crashed his lips into Zee’s.

After spending so much of his adult life trapped in enforced reserve, Zee was flustered by the sudden embrace. To have Crowley simply put their lips together and slide his tongue into his mouth, in public, in front of friends, without warning—it churned up a complicated mixture of feelings. Anxiety and giddiness, fear and longing, embarrassment and wonder. It wasn’t like he hadn’t kissed Crowley publicly, or even in front of some of these same people. He wasn’t ashamed. He was simply…unpracticed.

Crowley’s friends continued chatting, completely ignoring the two of them as the kiss lingered. Slowly, Zee’s body started to melt into something less guarded. He was soothed by the feeling of those long arms wrapped around him. Grounded by the familiar tickle of stray curls escaping from where Crowley had tied them back. Crowley brushed light fingers across his jaw as he pulled away and smiled.

“Hi, darling.”

Zee couldn’t stop himself from blushing. “Hi.”

“You’re gorgeous and I really like you.”

“You’re ridiculous and you’ve had too much to drink.”

“Haven’t. Only two glasses, see?” Crowley said, one arm gesturing toward the table with enough exuberance that he nearly knocked over Zee’s glass. Zee caught his hand before he did any damage, then raised an eyebrow at him. Crowley sat back, grumbling. “M’not drunk. Just clumsy and in love.”

***** Chapter 14 is up! Halfway through this book now.

Fic description: Zee (Aziraphale) Marsh is a widowed hermit who secretly writes bestselling romance novels under the pseudonym Bella Swansea. His life is rigorously controlled until his new downstairs neighbor arrives. Anthony Crowley causes something to come alive in Zee that he hasn't seen in over twenty years, but Crowley brings with him some of his own very dark secrets. // Human AU, dark fic, E rating.

[the-sand-guardian]

Whumptober 14: Left For Dead

A continuation of days 7 and 13. 

<><><><><><><><><><>

Cellbit turned the key in the ignition and the van rattled to life, though it sputtered and spat much like a Fed he’d stabbed in the throat. The other car revved its engine once, and Cellbit revved theirs right back. Even in the wake of a fainting episode, Pac had those daredevil tendencies that Cellbit had fallen for several years ago. That was long past both of them, though. 

After a moment, Pac sped off in a cloud of red dust, leaving Cellbit and the others behind within it. Cell was having none of this, and quickly shifted in gear before pressing the pedal to the floor and shooting off after him. The sun was beginning to set over the Wasteland, and the reds and oranges of the sky blended into the red dirt of the ground. They needed to get home quickly before the cold set in for the night. Much like a traditional desert, the Wasteland was sweltering during the day, but someone could almost freeze to death at night. 

Cellbit was honestly a little surprised the other car had let him drive the van. Before the end of the world, he’d already been prone to Highway Hypnosis on his commutes to and from work, but now he was probably even worse about it. When you drove through miles and miles of absolutely nothing, it was easy to get lost in your thoughts. Which he was glad wasn’t happening- 

Headlights. 

He swerved hard to the left, but the other car turned to follow. It was hard to see through the high beams absolutely blinding him, but this car seemed much bigger than the one the other half of the group was in. Roier shouted something from the backseat where he sat with Felps. The other car swerved at them again. Cellbit swore and tried to dodge it, but the car rocked and nearly tipped. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Roier asked from the back.

“Trying to keep us from getting killed!” 

“Do it carefuller! Fuck, here, let me do it, switch me” 

“No! I’m driving! How am I supposed to switch you?” 

Roier groaned and started to climb towards the front of the van only for Cellbit to have to dodge another swing from the other vehicle. 

“Left! Left, Cellbit, turn left!” He yelled at him. Cellbit quickly swerved left, dodging another swing, but leaving him with enough time to knock against the other vehicle. “Muy bien! Do that again!” 

Cellbit listened and did it again. This time, the other car faltered and backed off a bit. It seemed like maybe they would retreat. Cellbit tried to keep his focus and listen to Roier should he have more instructions, but he didn’t yet. 

“Get ready to slow down” Was all he said when he finally did speak. 

Cellbit didn’t question him. The car behind him flashed their lights at him once more before speeding up quickly ahead of them. Cellbit brought his foot down on the brake and brought the van all the way to a crawl as the other car disappeared into the darkness that now surrounded them. Cellbit stopped the car and slumped against the steering wheel. 

“Fuck raiders.” 

“Next time, I’m driving.” 

Cellbit didn’t argue, but simply shifted the van into park so he could let off the brake as he sat up. Adrenaline still flowed through his veins, and he took several deep breaths to try and settle himself back down. Roier took the seat beside him. By now, he’d moved his bandana to wrap it around his forehead, since the air in the car was mostly breathable. Cellbit tried not to stare, but now that he finally saw the other man’s face, he couldn’t help but think he was absolutely beautiful. Cellbit only hoped that one day he’d be able to see blood spattered over Roier’s face and the glint of power in his eyes- a part of him almost wanted it to be his own blood, too. 

“Oi, Cellbit! He won’t go anywhere if you blink!” Felps teased from the backseat. Cell shot him a glare almost as piercing as the bullet that had hit him earlier, but he could hear Roier let out a lighthearted giggle. Cellbit himself smiled a little before shaking his head. 

Unfortunately, their moment of peace was cut short by a terrible chill. Cellbit looked out the window and into the dark void around them. It was too dark for him to see any nearby buildings to guide off of and the gps had become nearly obsolete in the months since The End. They were lost. Completely and hopelessly lost. The car of their other friends was completely gone, too, and they likely wouldn’t notice their absence until morning. 

Now there was another dilemma: Gas. Either they used the remaining gas in the tank to keep warm and comfortable for the night, or they were able to drive home in the morning. Cellbit turned off the van. 

“We need to find something to cover up with, we don’t have enough fuel to get back and stay warm tonight” Cellbit explained to the others. Felps was still in too much pain to get up and look around, but Roier had no problems digging through the containers in the back of the van for supplies. Cellbit got up and helped him search. In the end, they had found a few cuts of fabric and tarp that would do for the night. 

“You two can share, I’m injured” Felps stated matter-of-factly as he took some fabric and a tarp. Cellbit stared into him again. “What? I’m not wrong. You didn’t have to have a bullet carved out of you without dinner.” 

“He’s got a point,” Roier hummed, already getting himself set up as well. 

“Come on, don’t take his side on this-” Cellbit began to argue. Felps knew exactly what he was doing, and Cellbit was sure of that. He wasn’t going to let him win this if he could help it. 

“I’m not budging. Your knife was in my gut earlier. You can freeze for all I care” Felps rolled over with a wince and shut his eyes. 

Cellbit swore under his breath and rolled his eyes. Fucking Felps. He decided not to argue with the injured and possibly dying man any longer and begrudgingly took his place next to Roier.

“He probably does need the warmth. He lost a lot of blood, Cellbit” Roier explained as though Cellbit hadn’t been the one to fish the bullet out of his friend’s abdomen. 

“Eu sei- He’ll be fine though.” Cellbit laid down and tried to ignore just how warm Roier was. 

“And we will be too. Come on, gatito, I’m not that bad of a cuddler” Roier giggled a bit at his own joke.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Thank you for reading! I've also posted this to Ao3, where I'll be cataloguing all of my works for this month! I also have 3 other WIP fics, so if you enjoy my works please go show some love over there or feel free to shoot me an ask!

[tinyinvadr]

New chapter!

Psychoborrower 2

Chapter 14

The only thing left keeping us from turning on the Astralathe was the assortment of thick vines wrapped around it. We couldn’t PSI-Blast through them, and they were too thorny to pull apart. We needed help from a plant expert.

Similarly to the bees, the vines left a trail to follow. They obviously had a source. One that we would surely find at the end of the trail.

Along the way, we crossed paths with Adam, who was in the middle of studying a large carnivorous plant. God, those things freak me out.

“Adam? Is everyone out here? Geez, I thought this place was supposed to be super secure and hidden.”

He chuckled. “Lili sent me to find some plants to help Truman. Though, these ones seem a little too aggressive.”

Just as he said that, the leaves of the plant snapped shut, nearly snatching up his hat.

“What about you? What brings you two out here?”

Once again, we gave a very vague explanation about the Astralathe, and Adam decided to join us on our search, figuring he’d be bound to find a suitable plant if he stuck with us. I felt bad not telling him that Truman was actually awake, but technically I wasn’t even supposed to know about that, so it wasn’t my place to share that information.

Adam examined the vines closer, then snapped his fingers as he came to a conclusion.

“This looks like the work of Bob Zanotto!”

Bob was the final member of the Psychic Six. Master of Herbaphony, uncle of Truman, and husband of Helmut Fullbear.

Raz paused, confused. “But Lili told me he got fired years ago. What would he still be doing here?”

“I’m not sure. My guess is he wanted to stay close to his plants due to his psychic connection with them. I know he had a greenhouse out here somewhere. I bet that’s where these vines came from.”

Sure enough, at the end of the path, we found the greenhouse. Inside was an intoxicated and disheveled-looking Bob, tending to a plant.

“Agent Zanotto-”

One of the vines threw an empty bottle, nearly missing us.

“Hey! That almost hit us!”

“Well, it was your choice to come in here.”

Adam stepped forward, attempting to address him again.

“We’re interns from the Motherlobe. I’m Adam, and this is Raz and Flint. We need your help with a few things. The Astralathe is covered in vines, and Truman-”

Bob suddenly commanded the vines to grab us and throw us out of the greenhouse.

“I don’t wanna hear about him anymore, you hear me?!”

Before we could argue any further, the vines slammed the door in our faces.

“Great. Now what do we do?”

My question was answered only a moment later as the vine, now calm, quietly pulled the door back open and beckoned us inside.

We reluctantly stepped back into the greenhouse, and the vine made no moves to attack us. Once again, Adam studied the plants.

“Hmm… I remember reading about this. You’re acting on Bob’s subconscious, aren’t you?”

The vine waved itself up and down, as if nodding.

“Which means… deep down, he wants help.”

The vine nodded again.

Raz showed it the psycho-portal.

“Do you think he’d mind if we checked in on him?”

The vine shook its head, then snatched the portal, placing it on Bob’s head and then turning him around for us. The three of us then astral projected into his mind

His mental world was a little island in the middle of the ocean. On it were three large flower pots, and we found Bob trying to tend to a desolate, lifeless garden.

“Strange… I don’t normally get visitors. It’s usually just me and my garden.”

I quickly scanned the dirt in the flower pots. The closest thing to plants I could see were a few dead-looking twigs.

“Uh, no offense, but this doesn’t look like much of a garden. Where are all the plants? Don’t you have any seeds?”

He sighed. “I lost those a long time ago. They’re scattered somewhere across the sea, but I’m not a good swimmer.”

Raz let out a nervous laugh. “Neither am I.”

There had to be some way for us to reach the other islands without swimming. The answer came to us in the form of the psycho-portal door.

For some reason, a manifestation of the door remained in Bob’s mind, and we were able to knock it over and use it as a raft, allowing us to travel across the water.

We asked Bob if he wanted to join us, but he seemed hesitant about getting on the raft. We promised we wouldn’t be gone for long, and headed off, following a trail of flower petals in the water until we reached another island.

The most notable feature was a large pink bottle, so we pulled the cork out and headed inside to investigate. The bottle led us into a kitchen, and at the end of it was a pink refrigerator that functioned as a doorway into a swamp. It was there that we found out first seed. And… a moth.

“Aww, it’s a moth! Hi mothy!”

“Huh? Oh, hi kid. What are you doing here?”

“Just getting some seeds for Bob’s garden.”

“What?! Oh no, you don’t wanna do that. Do you have any idea how dangerous those things are?”

The Moth took flight, taking the seed with it. We chased it down across the swamp, getting some help from belching bulbs that looked like Bob. Eventually, we followed the Moth into a ruined greenhouse belonging to Tia Zanotto, Bob’s mother.

There was a dark pit on the other side with a drain at the bottom, and the Moth dropped the seed down into it. We levitated down, entering a cavern illuminated by glowing bottles of liquor, pouring out their contents like waterfalls.

“Stay away from there! You’ll just put him in a bad mood.”

The aforementioned Bad Mood appeared. They have incredibly strong defenses, and cannot be attacked directly. Thankfully, Adam had experience dealing with them.

They key was to use Clairvoyance on the Bad Mood in order to see its source. Destroying the source calms the mood down, which makes it disappear.

Continuing on, we found another room in the greenhouse, though this one was almost completely flooded with liquor. At the far end, we found a coffin with a wooden replica of Tia inside.

The implication that she died of alcohol poisoning was very worrying considering the state we found Bob in. It seemed he had adopted her unhealthy coping mechanism.

After sifting through several empty bottles, the vines found the seed and gave it to us, and we returned to Bob’s island to plant it.

It only took a few minutes for the seed to sprout, growing into a pink rose that looked like Tia.

Bob was wary of the idea of planting more seeds, but we assured him that this would ultimately help him process his painful memories.

The next bottle we found led us to a shipwreck. Once again, the Moth showed up and took the seed before we could get it. It was aggravating, and even I had to admit it. Real moths are way cuter, anyway.

When we went inside the ship, the interior looked exactly like the Motherlobe, only flooded. After taking down another Bad Mood, we followed the Moth into the flooded depths of HQ. We took a Bob Bulb along with us so his belches would make an air bubble for us. It smelled really bad, but it was better than drowning.

We eventually made it to Truman’s office, and we found the seed at his desk. Like with Tia, there was a wooden Truman at the desk, and he looked like he was in the middle of shouting at someone. This had to be a memory of when Bob got fired.

The second seed sprouted into a plant that looked like Truman after we planted it. Bob seemed to be a bit more at ease with us continuing our search for seeds, seeing as nothing bad happened with the garden.

A third bottle surfaced, and we almost could’ve gotten the seed and left right away if Raz hadn’t provoked the Moth, but I couldn’t be too mad at him. The world within this bottle was a massive wedding cake, and damnit, I was gonna eat the walls!

We traversed through the cake until we finally found the seed at Bob and Helmut’s wedding ceremony. A wooden Helmut stood in front of the Feel Mobile, holding his hands out. This was the only happy memory we’d come across, but it was bittersweet knowing what happened in Grulovia. For all Bob knew, the love of his life was dead.

Recovering the three seeds pieced the story together, and it was heartbreaking. He was so distraught after losing Helmut that he fell into alcoholism. He became so dependent on it that Truman had to fire him, since he wasn’t in the right headspace to continue working with the Psychonauts.

Shortly after planting the final seed, the Helmut plant started to grow out of control, with the Tia and Truman plants doing the same. The Moth arrived, hovering in front of the monstrous plants.

“I tried to warn you, but did you listen to me? No. Now I need to protect Bob. AGAIN.”

It circled him, spinning a cocoon around him and guarding it as the plants began to attack. The skies darkened, and the sea became a whirlpool. Before we could do anything, the plants knocked us back. Luckily for us, we landed on the psycho-portal.

Adam deflected the plants’ projectiles with his yo-yo while Raz and I fired rapidly at them. We were able to temporarily knock them out, and Raz and I took that opportunity to break open Bob’s cocoon. His emotional distress unleashed a Bad Mood and a wide variety of negative thoughts. We were able to fight them off, but the Moth just knocked us back onto the raft.

Even after defeating the Bad Mood, Bob was fully willing to stay in the cocoon. We needed to get the plants under control. Raz decided to change tactics, and called out to the Helmut plant.

“Hey! Why are you doing this? I thought you loved Bob!”

“Ha! I don’t really love him!”

At that, Bob broke out of his cocoon.

“Helmut would never say that!”

The Moth grabbed onto him, dragging him away by force.

“It’s not safe here! Come with me. You won’t feel this at all.”

The three of us combined our power to take the plants down before the Moth could take him away, and soon, he regained control. The plants shrank back down, and the Moth became a mask, which Bob tossed aside.

“Thanks for your help, kids. I think I can handle this garden myself now.”

I looked out at the ocean and saw more seeds floating on the surface of the water. Those first three seeds were only the beginning on Bob’s road to recovery.

“Oh, don’t worry about those. I’ll just take them one at a time.”

We returned to the physical world, and Bob agreed to help us with the Astralathe. The four of us headed to the Heptadome, and shortly after we got there, Helmut showed up.

“What happened to your beard, Bobby? Are those gardening tools?”

Both Bob and Adam looked thoroughly confused. Raz and I kept quiet, though, thinking it might be better for Helmut to explain for himself.

“Bobby, it’s me. Your PSI King. My body’s still in Grulovia, so I’m borrowing this one. These kids found my brain earlier and helped me get back to my senses.”

Bob smiled. “They just helped me get back to mine, too. Oh, Helmut, I never thought I’d see you again! I mean… I’m not seeing YOU, but… you’re back.”

“Heh… Can’t get rid of me that easily. Now, come on, we’ve gotta do something about that beard. It’s a mess!”

The two of them walked off, seemingly forgetting about the vines. But as they left, the vines retracted, Bob’s link with them continuing even from a distance.

For a full minute, Adam stood there in shock.

“Wait, so… Helmut Fullbear is back? And his brain is in Nick Johnsmith’s body? This is huge! Does anyone else know?”

“Just Morris and Gisu. They’ve been brainstorming interview questions for K.L.O.B.”

“In that case, I’d better go fill them in! Who knows? Maybe l can convince them to interview you guys too! I can tell this is gonna be in the history books someday!”

Brimming with excitement, Adam rushed back to the Motherlobe, and Raz and I were alone once again.

“Okay… This is it, Flint. We’re gonna fix everything. You ready?”

I don’t think either of us were ready for what we were about to face. But we had to. For the sakes of both our families, we had to set things right.

“Nope. Let’s do it.”

[thedocs-in]

Military School Pt.1

Sorry this took so long to get out, a self-indulgent Cecilxreader fic that I started to write took over my life for a couple on months. And then school started.

But I wrote this about two years ago, and I only meant for it to be shared with people on this Cecil server I was in. But, considering its gone now, I figured why not. And Cecil is supposed to be like, 14 or 15 in this.

This is part one of a three part story. The second part should be up possibly by the end of the week. Gotta make some edits to it first.

Plot: Cecil gets into a fight that nearly gets him expelled from high school, and almost gets sent to military school.

Link to Pt.2

TW: blood, injuries, and mentions of violence and sexual harassment (very briefly on that second one)

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

Sitting there in an uncomfortable chair, Cecil leaned forward. His elbows resting on his knees and a bloody rag pressed against his nose. Though, given the fact that his shirt was already covered in his own blood, the rag was pretty much useless. Craning his neck, he looked at the senior who sat across from him. The senior he’s labeled ‘Jackass’ looked like shit, his shirt stained with blood. The skin around his nose and one of his eyes starting to turn purple.

The senior pressed a bloodied rag into his face, as his lip had been busted and his nose broken. Two of the seniors’ fingers were in a makeshift splint; and while he had heard something pop, he wasn’t sure if they were broken or just dislocated.

But it didn’t matter; he was still screwed regardless. Up until this point he had gotten away with getting into fights with assholes or bullies. Middle school kids were too embarrassed that they got their ass kicked. Sure, there were times when someone would snitch, and he’d get in trouble. But most of the time he’d get a warning or detention, considering the other kids never got hurt enough to warrant suspension, or worse, expulsion. But high schoolers were different, you fight back, hurt their ego, and they’ll find a way to make your life miserable; especially if they had been on top of the food chain.

But here he was, sitting outside the principal’s office contemplating everything that went wrong, how he let his temper get the better of him.

Craning his head up, he got a better look at the ‘jackass’ sitting across from him. And he was met with a glare that could melt steel. Lowering the rag, he checked his nose; thankful that the bleeding finally stopped.

He returned the dirty look to the senior, scrunching his nose in the process. Which only sent a wave of pain through his face, and he was convinced that it was broken. It wasn't the first time it's been broken, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. But knowing his dad, a trip to the emergency room wasn’t likely, as his dad would rather just set it at home.

Looking at the floor, he stared at the ugly linoleum. He could see a few stray droplets of blood on the ugly brown linoleum, that was probably outdated when it was put down. And he wondered who had the bright idea to choose brown of all colors.

But his thoughts were interrupted when he heard a shouting match break out behind him. The door to his right muffled the voices, but he quickly straightened up when he heard his dad shouting.

The ‘Jackass’ spoke up, “Sounds like you’re in trouble you little shit.”

He looked at the senior and could see that he had a shit eating grin on his face. But he watched as the smug look turned to regret as blood started to run down his chin, and he moved the rag from his nose to his lip.

“I wouldn’t have kicked your sorry ass if you had just left my friend alone.” He spat back.

He leaned back in the chair and looked up to the stained ceiling, attempting to make sense of what was being said. All he could tell was that it didn’t sound good for him. Occasionally he could make out his dad insulting whoever else was in there.

The shouting quickly died down, and he heard a third voice talking, then footsteps.

On his right, a door quickly opened, and he turned his head to look. Standing in the doorway was short and portly man who looked both terrified and exhausted.

He sighs, “Both of you in my office, now!”

Forcing himself up from the chair, he reluctantly walked through the doorway. Quickly spotting his dad standing across from the ‘jackasses’ father.

His dad quickly looked at him, and ice filled his veins. He could see that his dad was not happy. Catching his eye for a moment, he quickly looked elsewhere as he walked into the office. While he was never scared of his father, for once he was nervous. The fact that this fight had gotten so out of hand made things look worse for him.

As soon as he was within grabbing distance, his dad pulled him close. Quietly seething at him through his teeth, “You are in so much trouble!”

What little color there was in his face left as he rarely saw his dad this angry.

The portly man walks around the room and sits down behind his desk. On top sat a little placard, ‘Principal Owens’.

With a sigh, the principal sat down. “Mr. Stedman, I’m afraid we have a serious situation on our hands here. I don’t take kindly to violence occurring on school grounds, especially when it leads to serious injury. And to be completely honest Mr. Stedman, this isn’t looking good for your son.”

He felt his chest tighten. And while he wanted to defend himself, he bit his tongue right as the ‘jackasses’ father started to yell.

“I want that little bastard expelled and arrested! Look at what he did to my son!” The man spat, gesturing to his son’s injuries.

Principal Owens cuts in with exasperation, “Mr. Lawson please, before any decision is made, I want Mr. Stedmans’ to explain himself.”

Now with everyone’s attention turned towards him, his mouth suddenly went dry, and he had no idea how to explain himself. Where to even begin, and if they would even believe him. Considering it was his word against ‘jackasses’ and his cronies. He had a few friends that could certainly vouch for him, but he didn’t want them involved in this mess.

He could feel his dad’s grip on his shoulder tighten, and in that moment, he was almost too terrified to even look towards his father. Taking a deep breath, knowing that even if he told the truth, he could still be screwed. “He’s been harassing my friend for days. And when I went to talk to him, to tell him to leave her alone, he took a swing at me. I didn’t start the fi-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Mr. Lawson lost his grip on his son for a moment as the senior attempted to lunge at him, calling him a liar. Thankfully, his dad quickly put himself in between the two teenagers, and Mr. Lawson pulled his son back.

Principal Owens stood up quickly and slammed his hands onto his desk, “That’s enough! I will not have any more fighting! Especially in my office.” Looking over to Mr. Lawson he said, “Control your son!”

He watched as the ‘jackass’ huffed in anger.

As soon as things started to calm down for a moment the principal looked at him, “Cecil, what do you mean he’s been harassing your friend?”

Breathing a sigh of relief, he began to explain things. “All of this started two weeks ago, when he started to harass my friend. He kept making all sorts of sexual comments towards her, or him and his friends kept harassing her after school. I went to go talk to him, to tell him to knock it off. But all he did was attack me. I didn’t go looking for a fight, but no one else was telling him to stop.”

As the words left his mouth, he could feel the tension growing in the room. But he noticed his dad’s grip loosen a bit.

The principal narrowed his eyes at him, as he leaned back into his chair. “And why didn’t you think to report this to the office? And why hasn’t she come forward?”

What anxiety he felt, was quickly replaced with anger, “I tried, and no one did anything! She tried, but no one would take her seriously. If you really don’t believe me, ask her. Ask the teacher that caught the ‘jackass’ messing with her yesterday.”

He still couldn’t remember his name, though at this point it wasn’t worth trying.

“Young man, I will not tolerate that language in my office or my school.” Owens said. “Which teacher are you talking about?”

He wracked his brain trying to remember who had caught the older student, but his memory was failing him. “I don’t know, I think it might’ve been the P.E. teacher. I wasn’t there, she just told me about all of this, this morning. She said it’s been happening after school for the past two weeks. She said that the teacher saw and stopped it but didn’t do anything else.”

Principal Owens sighed and rubbed his face. And for what felt like minutes, everyone was silent.

His dad cleared his throat, “Principal Owens, I’d like to know what you plan on doing? I agree that what my son did was wrong, but if what he’s saying is true, I hope ‘jacka-’, Mr. Lawson’s son is punished as well.”

Biting his tongue, he had to stop himself from laughing at his dad’s slip-up. Over the past couple of years, many of his teachers had complained about his colorful language. Resulting in a lot of parent teacher conferences, where they quickly learned where he got it from.

But before Principal Owens could respond Mr. Lawson interjected, “Are you kidding me? My son is the victim here, I want the little menace arrested.”

He felt his heart stop for a moment and his dad’s grip tighten again.

“Now hold on.” Principal Owens says. “Before the police get involved, I want to make sure that everyone is telling the truth.”

Mr. Lawson’s face was turning red, “I know for a fact that this isn’t the first time that little bastard has done something like this. Everyone knows he’s done this before.”

“Sir please calm down; I know all too well about Cecil’s previous incidents. I’ve seen his records, but his past incidents have never been like this. And I don’t think the police need to be involved yet.”

He internally breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that the cops wouldn’t be involved just yet.

Lawson opens his mouth to start again, but Owens stops him, “I think the best course of action, for now, would be suspension for both. I want to see if what Cecil say’s is true. If it ends up being a lie then your son can return to school immediately, if not, then he’ll have to serve out his suspension. And he will be put on academic probation when he returns.”

‘Jackass’ begins to whine, “What?! You can’t do that? I’m needed on the team. I need this to get into college.”

The older Stedman cuts in, “Kid, if you have to rely on to being a football player to get yourself into college, you probably shouldn’t be going. Besides if my son is lying then you have nothing to worry about.”

Both Lawson’s looked at his father, moving their anger from Principal Owens to the older Stedman.

Before either Lawson could say anything, Owens speaks. “Now Mr. Stedman, I cannot let Cecil off with just a warning, he did injure another student. If he’s telling the truth, he’ll have to serve out his suspension, and a few weeks of detention when he comes back. But if your son is lying, I will be forced to expel him.”

His father, now much more levelheaded, spoke. “I understand.”

“Now please, go home. I have an incident report to fill out.”

As he and his dad walked out of the principal’s office, his father spoke to him quietly, “We’ll talk about this when we get home.”

He nodded his head, “Yes sir.”

[teamatsumu]

Temptation

Summary:  After all, he has never been able to say no to her.

Pairing: Ishida Uryuu x Inoue Orihime

Word Count: 3,775

Warnings: Angst, Smut, Adultery, Post canon, swearing., you have been warned!

A/N: This is a murky piece lmao. Problematic content, so don’t come for me. It’s fiction!

The nurse’s foot was tap, tap, tapping on the marble floor, the noise ringing in the quiet of the room. Uryuu was sure it was unintentional, but it didn’t help his concentration at all. He didn't want to reprimand her, though. He wasn't sure he had the energy to. He blinked and pursed his lips, focusing on the file in front of him.

“Everything looks fine to me,” he looked up at the nurse, who looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here. Uryuu couldn’t blame her. If he remembered correctly, she was on hour 14 of an 18 hour shift. “And she wants to leave?”

The nurse nodded. “Her attendants are in the waiting room. She already has her bags packed.”

Uryuu hummed and closed the file, holding it up for the nurse to take it from him. “Then discharge her. Write her a follow up for two days from now. Make sure a resident signs off on that. Then she’s good to go.”

The nurse nodded politely before leaving the office, the door shutting softly behind her. Uryuu sighed and leaned back in his chair, taking his glasses off to rub his eyes. It provided little relief to his burning eyelids. He stretched his legs beneath his desk, hoping to abate the building tension in them. Again, it did almost nothing to improve his situation. He knew what he really needed was a good night's sleep.

He wasn't sure he was going to get it, though.

It's not like Uryuu had a lot going on at the hospital. He was a consultant now, not a resident. He could afford to step away and have his juniors run the show for a bit. After years and years of hard work, he was finally at a point in his life where he didn't have to struggle just to keep up with his career. At 30, he was finally qualified enough to take a breather.

Life wasn't that kind to him though. It never had been. Why would it start now? One problem always replaced the next, and this new problem came in the form of wide, brown eyes and a soft little smile.

Dammit. He was thinking of her again. He looked at the clock hanging on the far wall and mentally cursed at himself. Ten minutes. That's how long she had stayed out of his mind. He should be proud. It was a record. But he had wanted to stay strong for longer.

He wondered what she was doing right now. Midday meant Kazui was at school and Ichigo was at work. And she didn't work at the bakery on Wednesdays. So she'd be home. Alone.

Shut the fuck up.

The voice in his head was cruel and sharp, but it was what he needed. He couldn't afford to think of her. Couldn't afford to imagine her home at her lonesome, knowing he could head over right now and be uninterrupted for a few hours, at least. He knew where these thoughts led. Sooner or later, her voice would ring in his ears if he let these images run free in his head. Quiet little whimpers, biting at her rosy lips to keep the noises at bay, looking at him with those big eyes loaded with unshed tears as the pleasure kept building and building…

Fuck.

Uryuu nearly jumped out of his skin when a soft knock on his door sounded in the quiet of the room. He bit the inside of his cheek, scowling at himself for his blasphemous thoughts. He needed to get a grip. He straightened in his chair and put his glasses back on.

"Come in."

And in poked a head of burnt orange hair, the very subject of his crude fantasies just a minute ago.

No.

"Ishida-kun," her voice made his heart squeeze. "Can I come in?"

Of course you can. Have I ever refused you?

"Inoue-san, of course. Please." He stood up in courtesy, watching her open the door just enough to slip in and shut it behind her. Uryuu froze in place.

She was wearing the same skirt as last time.

It had to be intentional. Inoue-san was dense sometimes but she wasn't an idiot. She knew what she was doing. To him. But he had to believe she didn't have a clue, because she was humming and pulling a chair back to sit on, right across his desk.

Shakily, Uryuu sat down as well.

"Are you okay? Did you want something? You usually text before you show up." Or when you want me to come over. When your husband isn't enough for you. When you need me to make your pain better.

She shook her head, giving him a big smile and placing her hands neatly on her lap. "I was just out running some errands. I thought I'd drop by."

Liar. Uryuu knew instantly. There were no errands. It was just him.

He nodded anyway, letting the corners of his lips curl up. "Well, I'm glad you did. You know you're always welcome."

Her eyes held gratitude, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. It made Uryuu stiffen slightly. Had she been nervous? Had she been scared he would turn her away? His hold on the arms of his chair tightened. Did she really believe he would ever do that? Did she think that at any point, he would reject her?

She was all he had.

No. No. He had promised himself. No more. He couldn't do this to her. He couldn't do this to Ichigo. The few times it happened was already one time too many. Surely, he would not be reduced to this again. This was immoral. It was reprehensible. To have an affair, right under her husband and child's nose-

Her smile had wavered, lessened, her eyes boring straight into his. Her hands were no longer still, fingers wringing together in nervousness. The room was silent, the only noise coming from the ticking of the wall clock. The air felt charged. Heavy.

It was like the very walls were holding their breath.

"Why are you really here, Orihime?" His voice was low, as if he was afraid to disrupt the stillness of the space around him.

"You know why." Her voice was a mere whisper, her eyebrows creasing.

"We can't."

"Why not?"

"Because-" He grit his teeth. How could she ask him that? "Because you're married."

She looked down at her hands, her hair falling gently over her face. "That didn't stop you last time."

Uryuu screwed his eyes shut, teeth clenched so hard it made his jaw ache.

"Or the time before that."

He stood up slowly. Every muscle in his body protested the action. He wasn't even tired, yet he felt like he was weighed down by lead. She had stopped talking instantly, but she kept her gaze on her hands, twisting and pulling at her fingers to calm her nerves. He could read her so easily. She was an open book to him.

He walked around the desk until he stood before her, leaning down and placing his hands on the arms of her chair. At this proximity, the scent of her shampoo invaded his nose, making his eyelids flutter. She seemed to dig her chin further into her chest as he drew nearer.

"Look at me."

She didn't. She kept her stare steadily on her lap. Uryuu sighed, defeated. He knew exactly what he was going to do. Every molecule in his body screamed for him to do it. She was here, still and pliant on a chair in his office, offering herself to him, right within his reach. At the end of the day, he was just a man. Weak willed in front of this woman. A slave to his desires.

There was nothing he desired more than her.

He leaned his head down and nudged his forehead gently with hers. He felt her intake of breath as her head lifted up just marginally. Tilting his face, he slotted his lips with hers.

It was intense and hard from the very start. There was no room for soft, passionate love when their time together was already so limited and riddled with guilt and sin. As much as Uryuu would like to go slow, he couldn’t. One look at her was enough to drive him insane. Here she sat, before him, ready for the taking. In a couple of hours from now, she would be home again. With the man she shared a last name with. A last name he would never acknowledge. To him, she was still Inoue-san.

There was no going slow. Uryuu was desperate.

His hand came up to cup the side of her head, pushing his lips harder against hers, eliciting the first little whimper from her throat. His tongue invaded her mouth immediately, feeling her own tentative movements. It nearly made him chuckle. She came to him, practically begging with unsaid words for him to fuck her. And yet, now she was the one being hesitant.

It just wouldn’t do.

He gripped both her arms tightly and hauled her up until she was on her feet, arms winding around her waist tightly and pulling her body flush against his. He knew she liked that, and he was validated by the sigh that escaped her lips. He swallowed the sound hungrily, feeling his core stir as every part of her body pressed and pulled along with his. Her hands had fisted the white lab coat he adorned, and it made him realize they were wearing too many clothes.

His heart ached again. They didn’t have time.

Their lips broke free for air, and Uryuu immediately descended to the soft, unmarked expanse of her neck. She was pliant and warm, the smell of morning dew and fresh, flowery detergent. Her hands, gentle as always, carded through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp and sending a violent shiver down his spine. He nibbled at the skin just under her ear, knowing she could hide it with her hair. Her sounds became louder.

He was already undoing the buttons on her shirt, eager to feel more skin. He could feel himself hard and throbbing in anticipation, grinding into her hips for some form of relief. Once her shirt was pushed down her shoulders, he abandoned the kisses on her neck to lean back and look at her, and he wasn’t disappointed.

Her skin had flushed a beautiful rosy pink from her cheeks down to her neck. Her lips were swollen and red, her neck carrying a slight sheen from his treatment earlier. He cupped her breasts, hearing her keen at the contact, eyes fluttering shut. Fuck.

He pulled down the cups of her bra immediately, mouth descending on his right nipple to suck it into his mouth. The reaction was instant, back arching as she gasped, head thrown back. It lit a fire inside Uryuu that he hadn’t felt in a long time. This moment right here. This was the reason he still allowed himself to sin. It was shameful, yes. It was heinous. But when he had her trapped in his arms, tasting her flesh and hearing her pretty little sounds flood his ears, he couldn’t blame himself at all. She was the worst temptation. And he would always give in.

“Ishida-kun…” It was breathy and desperate. Uryuu could feel her fidget and rub her thighs together, begging for relief. He would give it to her. He would make sure she never craved anyone but him ever again.

It was times like these that Uryuu barely recognized himself.

His mouth left her nipple with a soft pop, straightening his back and peering down at the wanton expression on her face.

“What do you want, Orihime?” The same question. This time, with an entirely different undertone.

“You. All of you.” Her nails dug into his waist. She was staring at his lips. Uryuu couldn’t help his little smirk.

He turned her around and pushed between her shoulder blades until her front pressed into his office desk, her ass in the air. He didn’t leave her wanting for his touch however, leaning over to put his weight on her until she sighed. His lips brushed the shell of her ear.

“You dirty girl,” he whispered, hand running under her skirt and skimming up her thigh until he reached the apex. God, she was soaked. And it was all because of him. This time, he huffed out a small laugh. “Walking all the way here and giving yourself to me like this. Do you want me that badly?”

She pushed against his fingers, trying to make him rub her where she needed it the most. “Yes.” Her voice was small, and it sounded almost ashamed. But Uryuu knew better. She wasn’t ashamed. She was desperate. His cock twitched.

He slid his hand up further until he felt the waistband of her panties, tugging them down the swell of her ass and off her thighs. They hit the floor around her feet with a soft plop. The next second, his fingertips were brushing at her burning center, not wasting a second before he pushed two fingers into her down to the knuckles.

She gasped and moaned loudly. Uryuu brought his left hand up to her mouth, to clamp it shut, nudging his nose against her cheek.

“Do you want to get caught?” He asked. She shook her head slightly, hips twitching and walls clenching around him. He curled his fingers, watching her eyes roll up into her head. Tears coated her eyelids, not yet falling, but no worries. He’d have her crying in the next ten minutes or so.

Her quiet whimpers were drowned out by the sound of the filthy squelch Uryuu’s fingers made as he moved them in and out of her, spreading them apart to open her up. Not that he needed to do much. He’d fucked her just last week. She would’ve been fine even without the prep. But he couldn’t stop right then. He was too engrossed in watching her face, the tiny shifts in muscle at every movement he made. He could feel the palm of his hand get wet where it held her mouth shut. He pressed his crotch hard against her ass. She looked….. divine.

How ironic, considering what they were doing.

She gasped when his fingers left her abruptly, mouth free from his grip so she could take big, heaving breaths. The sound of his belt clinking and zipper pulling down had her stilling in anticipation. Uryuu lifted up her skirt, sighing at the sight. He ran a gentle finger up her skin, feeling the shiver that ran down her back. He lined himself up to her before leaning down, elbows resting on either side of her head. Her cheek was pressed to the desk, eyes looking up at him. Her expression was relaxed. She knew she was about to get what she wanted.

She gave him the tiniest smile when their eyes met. Uryuu pushed forward.

The relief was instant for both of them, moaning in unison. Uryuu felt his face scrunch up at the tight grip around him. Warm and hot and twitching. He didn’t stop until he had sunk all the way in, letting out a long, shuddering breath.

“How are you already this tight?” His voice sounded strangled. He heard her giggle and blinked his eyes open, watching the rose flush of her cheeks. Her hair was a mess, sprawled over the desk around her head like a halo. It made him smile too, bending his head forward to brush his lips against her temple. She sighed in contentment.

"Feeling better?" He joked, making her laugh more openly now. His tongue darted out to lick at her bottom lip. She hummed.

"Much."

He pulled out slowly before surging forward again, his skin meeting hers with a wet slap. Her smile disappeared.

"Uryuu…" God. Not his name. Not like this, unhindered, cracked and yearning. Uryuu groaned and started moving in earnest, unable to hold himself back any longer. He leaned his chest against her back and grabbed a tight hold on her hips, thrusting harder into her.

Uryuu’s head was swimming. He could no longer think straight.

Her voice gained a higher pitch, back arching at an angle that made him hit deeper into her. She clenched around him just right, making his rhythm stutter. He growled like a man possessed, hips smacking harshly between her thighs at a pace she simply couldn't keep up with. Her hands scrambled for purchase over the desk, gripping at the edges above her head for stability. Each deep thrust of his cock punched a mewl from her throat that she desperately tried to keep quiet, her cunt clenching down on him in a way that made him dizzyingly close to cumming.

No. Not yet. Not so soon. She'll go away if you do. She'll leave.

His thoughts were broken and muddled as they screamed at him. He wanted to listen to them so badly, but the delicious rub of her walls made it almost impossible to. In his hazy state, he realized she was stiffening up even more, tears streaking down her cheeks and hips jerking with every slam of his cock deep inside her. He felt a sick satisfaction wash over him.

"You gonna cum for me?” He growled in her ear, fist in her hair dragging her head around to look at him again. Nose to nose, eyes boring straight into hers, he saw her and all the need that overflowed within her, felt it in the way he split her open. His eyes were hooded and his sweating forehead pressed into hers to keep her eyes on him. "You love this don't you? Taking me like this and then going home, still sore from the feeling of my cock. I bet you think of me when he looks at you. I bet you wish it was me you were going home to."

He couldn’t believe the words leaving his mouth.

She almost sobbed as her hips twisted without rhythm, but it didn't matter. The plow of Uryuu's hips kept hers pinned to the desk, kept her from losing his pace, and that’s just how both of them liked it. “A-Ah, U-uryuu, y-yes--”

Uryuu's hand reached under her legs, finding her clit to rub harsh circles into. She mewled, forehead banging into the desk hard before every muscle in her body seized up.

"Cum," Uryuu could barely recognize his voice. "I can fucking feel it, baby. Cum, for me, c’mon, cum--" He tugged her head back, nerves firing across her scalp and making her eyes roll. The slick sound of her pussy was growing louder and wetter. He continued to fuck into her even when she clenched so tight it felt like he couldn’t possibly thrust back inside, feeling her ride her high. His pace didn't falter and his fingers didn't halt, dragging out her orgasm until she was mumbling incoherently into the wood of the desk, crying and trying to move away from his insistent fingers.

Uryuu shuddered against her and grunted. He pressed deep into her body and stopped, panting harshly. He rasped out a groan, long and low, against her sweating neck , hips stuttering, fingers massaging hard at her ass and thigh as he swirled his hips into the tight squeeze of her insides. Hot jets of his cum filled her, squelching louder now with each of his shaky thrusts. With every flex of his cock he panted, moaning at the end of each one while he pinned her down with all the weight of him and twitched his hips forward as deep as he could get, knowing she would have bruises due to the unforgiving edges of the desk.

Both of them stayed that way for what felt like hours, panting and writhing as the desk under them groaned harshly. He wedged an arm under her head, feeling her sweaty face press into the give of his muscle.

"Are you okay?" His voice was raspy.

She hummed and didn't say much more, nodding slightly and shifting her hips. He cursed softly into her shoulder blade, finally pulling out of her with a wet squelch that made his ears burn. He straightened up, feeling his back protest the action. Her skirt was pushed all the way up to her waist and he watched, mesmerized, as his cum dripped down the inside of her thighs.

"Ishida-kun," His gaze snapped up to hers, eyeing the deep red color on the apples of her cheeks. She was pouting a little, clearly embarrassed. "Don't- don't look."

Uryuu couldn't help the little laugh that escaped him, leaning down again to pepper small kisses all over her hot face, wrapping both his arms around her waist until her body felt like it was one with him.

"You are so cute, Inoue-san." He inhaled her wonderful, after-sex smell as he pulled her up straight. "I wish I could-"

He stopped.

The air in the room shifted immediately, and Uryuu knew he had just burst the little bubble they had created. He regretted it with every fiber of his being, because she was already going rigid again, arms twisting in his hold a bit. He knew what this meant. He knew what would happen now.

Somehow, despite doing this many times now, the ache didn’t seem to numb at all. In fact, it got worse.

He helped her clean up and dress herself, not meeting her eyes as he did the same. His mind was clearing again, as it always did after every such encounter. Now would come the regret and the longing, and the harsh internal lecture about how this was the last time, and that he would never do it again.

It was all delusion, of course. He knew that. As she gave him one last sweet kiss and told him she'd see him soon, he knew there was no way that this was the last time. They would see each other again in a few days, when either he cracked or she did, either here, at her own house, or the quaint little apartment Uryuu lived in, and they'd play the same game all over again. He would let himself be consumed by her. She would let him taint her body. He would fall asleep alone and exhausted. She would go home to her family and pretend she hadn’t seen him since high school. Rinse and repeat.

After all, he had never been able to say no to her.

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

Let me know what you think! Requests are open.

[kiljoius-writes]

Uprooted - Chapter 1

Ao3 | FFN

Next Chapter

Chapter 1: Jump Up, Heart Sunk

Pairing: Sasuke Uchiha/Hinata Hyūga

Summary: All Hinata really knows is that she’s not quite fond of Fugaku's son. Her eyes land on Itachi, who is standing between the two men. No, not that son.

The other one. The one who is awkwardly sidled up in the opposing corner of the room. He’s always so aloof, as if he’s too good for everyone else around him. He just wasn’t the type of person she could find it in herself to respect.

Sasuke was no friend.

For the SasuHina discord server challenge: Arranged Marriage AU

Word Count: 4.4k

Rating: T

~

Today, Hinata is 20.

It’s not the lavish birthday bash that Hanabi is destined to have, but it’s still quite a nice party.

“’Ey Hinata.” Kiba swings around her front, almost losing his balance. Hinata automatically grabs at him to keep him steady and he flashes her a toothy smile. “Think your cousin over there’d be interested in me?”

Hinata looks over her shoulder to find whom she recognizes as Hikari, a branch member with beautifully long, dark green hair. She looks back at Kiba and lowers her eyes at him disapprovingly. “Is my celebration a good time to pick up on women, Kiba?”

“Ah, c’mon—”

"She is right." Shino approaches him from behind, causing Kiba to instinctively throw his fist backward. Shino's quicker and knows Kiba well enough to catch it in his hand before it lands a hit. When he sees who it is, he lets out a groan of frustration. Shino releases the fist and pushes his glasses back up his nose. "It is what some might call 'inappropriate’.”

Hinata’s always found Kiba and Shino’s interactions to be some of the funniest.

“You guys are boring,” Kiba huffs childishly, folding his arms, “never let a guy have any fun.”

The group naturally settles in a corner of the grand hall they’re partying in. Even though it’s Hinata’s birthday celebration, it’s really just a façade for clan politics to take place. She doesn’t care much, it’s not like she really wants a party anyway. But, as always, father gets what father wants.

“You guys know why I’m single?” Kiba interjects, bringing a glass of sake to his lips to throw down his throat. He shudders and coughs slightly before setting it on the table next to them. “Women are intimidated.”

“Intimidated?” Shino questions quietly, and Hinata knows he’s blinking in disbelief behind those sunglasses. She smiles as she looks back at Kiba.

“Yep, by my power.” He thumbs towards his own chest, then swipes at his nose. “Guess I gotta tone it down a little.”

“Yes, please,” Hinata teases him gently and he glares at her, but she knows it isn’t serious. “No glaring. I don’t want you scaring the pretty ladies away with your power.”

"Ah!" Kiba barks a laugh, patting her roughly on the shoulder. She stumbles a bit but rights herself easily. "And what about you, Hina? You single cause all the men are intimidated by that crackling force in those palms?"

Hinata blushes at the over-the-top compliment, shaking her head. “No, I am single because I want to be.”

“Sure ya do.” He rolls his eyes, and her smile quickly fades to a frown.

“What do you mean by that?” she nearly snaps, but it comes out even and controlled.

“He means nothing by it.” Shino’s tone is warning and Kiba recoils from it. Hinata’s smile returns as she turns to lean against the wall with them.

The three quietly observe the crowd before them. It’s a typical Hyūga event, with Hyūga servants bustling around haughty clan leaders and politicians. She catches a glimpse of her little sister with her ear being talked off by one of those haughty clan leaders or politicians' sons. She feels bad for Hanabi, always expected to entertain whatever noble's son decides deserves to command her attention. But she plays the part quite beautifully, now. Just a few years ago, her byakugan would flash on and off as she internally debated whether to close any chakra points. Now, she's 14 and has fallen into her role well.

Then her eyes bounce to a man who matches her father in height as they speak, Fugaku Uchiha. It’s typical for the Uchiha to be here, the clans visit a few times a year, and an event like this is a perfect opportunity to ‘chat’. Hinata didn't like to concern herself with whatever that meant, it wasn't her place. Besides, she didn't really want to know, anyway. All she really knows is that there is both understanding and animosity between the clans, and that’s enough for her.

She also knows she’s not quite fond of his son. Her eyes land on Itachi, who is standing between the two men. No, not that son. The other one.

The one who is awkwardly sidled up in the opposing corner of the room, drink in hand, other arm folded over his chest, by himself. Hinata squints at him. He's always so aloof as if he's too good for everyone else around him. They'd been around each other plenty, and it was never particularly pleasant. At best, awkward silence filled the space between them. At worst, he was making snide remarks toward her and she would do her best not to let him know how little she thought of him.

He just wasn’t the type of person she could find it in herself to respect. People like Kiba, Shino, Naruto, Chōji, Tenten, Lee. Those were people she could respect. People who were kind without the expectation of anything in return. People who lifted others up, no matter what. People whom she thought of as friends.

Sasuke was no friend.

So, when his eyes cast up and lock with hers, almost immediately, she frowns and turns away. Kiba picks up on it and looks where she had been. She peers up from the corner of her eye to catch Kiba giving a mocking wave towards the Uchiha, then his hand flips around and his middle finger is up. She almost gasps and tells him to ‘put that away right now!’ but just as her eyes find Sasuke again, he’s glaring his mean glare back and his middle finger is up, too.

She almost laughs. Then Sasuke puts down his drink and raises his hands in front of his chest, flopping them around and sticking out his tongue like a dog panting. He’s mocking Kiba and it can go nowhere good.

It takes both Hinata and Shino grabbing both of Kiba’s arms to keep him from stomping up Sasuke. Both of them know Kiba’s no match for him, and to pick a fight at a Hyūga event would be disastrous for all involved.

“Fucking asshole,” Kiba seethes, yanking his arms out of his respective teammates' grasps as his temper cools, slightly.

Hinata breathes a sigh, reaching out to wipe at his jacket. “Control yourself, Kiba. Remember, that power.”

A laugh leaves him and that’s what gets him back to normal. His hand roughs through her hair and she swats at it.

“He’s approaching,” Shino informs them in a whisper, and Hinata whirls around to find that Sasuke is indeed strolling over to them.

It always has to be something, doesn’t it?

“Tell me, Inuzuka,” Sasuke says loftily as he approaches, his stride lazy as he carries his drink in an equally lazy way, “do all the members of the clan smell like dog, or is it just you?”

Hinata lets out a tired breath as Kiba’s face turns red enough to match the markings on his cheeks. “The hell crawled up your ass and died, Uchiha?”

“This sad celebration,” he deadpans and Hinata squints up at him.

“Can we help you, Sasuke?” she asks, hoping to redirect him away from her dear friend who is ready to explode.

Kiba’s resolve is admirable right now, though, she must admit.

"Yeah, I guess you could." He turns his attention to her, and she slowly takes a step back. She's pleased when his footsteps match hers to follow, and she continues luring him away as if he's her prey. He holds out his arm towards her and she looks at it questioningly. He points at a spot in his bicep that she recognizes as where a chakra point lies, and he taps it. "Close this one, then, hopefully, I'll black out and escape this terribly boring party."

Hinata sighs. She expects nothing less of bratty Sasuke. “Very funny, Sasuke. If you are so terribly bored, why don’t you simply…leave?”

Sasuke smirks down at her and she glares at it. “Don’t you think I would have—a long time ago—if I could?” She presses her lips together, unwilling to answer that. “No, the best I can do is entertain myself somehow. Your dog teammate is an easy target, and that’s his fault, not mine.”

Hinata finds that she can’t argue that point with him. Kiba’s always been too hot-headed for his own good. He is an easy target. But she won’t simply stand by and let Sasuke of all people bully him in her own home. So she darts her eyes around for a brief moment before they land on a main family member she knows for a fact is smitten with Sasuke, despite how Hinata has lamented her distaste for the boy. She smiles as she taps her on the shoulder. “Emiko?”

The girl whirls around to meet Hinata, then her eyes falter to Sasuke, and a deep blush takes over her cheekbones. She bows. “Oh, Hinata! And Sasuke! Hello!”

“How long has it been since you two have been acquainted?” Hinata questions in mock innocence, slowly taking a step back. “Emiko, Sasuke has been interested in finding the perfect sugar cookie recipe. Perhaps you may enlighten him?”

“Oh, really?” Emiko brightens up, stars in her eyes as they settle on Sasuke, who has a deep grimace on his face.

It suits him, she thinks. He rarely looks genuinely happy anyway, she thinks his face is frozen into a grimace often enough that it’s the default look of Sasuke Uchiha.

Another step back and his dark black eyes flash over hers, filled with irritation. “Not exactl—”

Hinata cups her mouth, and whispers to him, "her secret ingredient is cayenne."

This makes his grimace grow and she steps back again, Emiko set down the path Hinata had planned for her, and now she’s returning to her team.

“That—” Kiba points at Sasuke and Emiko, then looks back at Hinata. “That was devious.”

“Diabolical, even,” Shino agrees, tilting his head down at her.

She smiles, proudly. These are not insults from Kiba and Shino. They are compliments.

“Why, thank you.”

-

Nearly a week after her celebration (read: political meet and greet), Kō finds her while she’s shopping to summon her. She tilts her head curiously at her former caretaker. It had been a while since he's had to come to collect her for one reason or another, and she's actually interested to see what it could be for.

Nothing could prepare her for what she was about to be told when she was led to the Uchiha district.

“E-Excuse me?”

When Hinata lost to her sister in the bid for the heiress of her clan over 10 years ago, she never expected this.

“What she said.”

Hiashi and Fugaku shared a look briefly before looking back at their respective children.

“Do not act so surprised, Sasuke.” Fugaku waves a hand. “This is the way forward for our two clans.”

“But—” Hinata’s lips thin to a harsh line when her father’s eyes shoot into her like an arrow. The elder doesn’t have to say much to quiet his eldest.

But Fugaku isn’t as lucky as Hiashi, it seems. “This is ridiculous.” Sasuke pushes his palms onto the table before him, shoving his chair back. He begins walking away, and it’s Hiashi’s voice that recalls him. Hinata keeps her head forward, watching her father’s icy gaze bore into Sasuke’s back. “What is it, Lord Hyūga?”

“I would not be so eager to attempt refusing this proposal.”

Hinata’s teeth clench.

Marriage.

An arranged marriage.

“And what if I do?” Sasuke dares, and Hinata turns to find him looking over his shoulder, eyes squinted in a scowl at her father.

“It’s not up to you, boy,” Fugaku adds, and Hinata looks back at him. She can see him sucking his cheek in, something she’s noticed Sasuke do before, too.

Her head turns back to Sasuke when she hears him chuckle sarcastically. “What are you gonna do? Oust me from the clan? Go ahead, not like it matters to me anyway.”

Back to Fugaku. “No. I’ll simply have Lady Hokage revoke your title as jōnin.”

“Yeah, right, Tsunade would never—”

“Don’t test me.”

Hinata inhales through her mouth, exhales through her nose. She’s never been comfortable with tension, but she can at least deal with it if it’s between her and another. This tension is a whole new level of uncomfortable.

Now she’s turned back to Sasuke again, and she watches his head hang, fists ball up. Her own fists are curled into the fabric of her pants, too, her entire body feeling as tight as his looks.

“And what about you, Hyūga?” Her eyes find his when he looks back at her, eyebrows low. Her throat feels dry as she attempts some sort of response.

“Seems Hinata has more respect for her family than you do, Sasuke,” Fugaku responds on behalf of her.

Whether that was true or not is debatable. Hinata doesn’t have strong feelings one way or the other towards being ousted by her clan or losing her title of jōnin. No, the one thing her father does hold over her is the caged bird seal. She’s unsure of whether she’s willing to risk receiving it by defying him.

“Typical,” Sasuke mutters curtly, and he’s moving away now, concluding the heated interaction.

Slowly, Hinata turns back to the two men before her, two men who have always intimidated her for different reasons. Both of their eyes set on her simultaneously, and she’s surprised to see Fugaku’s mouth turn into a taut smile. “He’ll come around.”

“If I may…” Hinata ventures a question, trying to sit up as straight as possible and hold her head high. “What brings this on…now?”

Hiashi shoots her a warning look and she wills herself not to recoil from it. Fugaku speaks for them, “a contract signed long ago, around the time your title of the heiress was relinquished to your younger sister. With your 20th birthday passing, it comes into effect.”

Hinata swallows and nods. Her fate had never been her own, anyway.

-

Hanabi swings her legs as Hinata complains.

She’s been complaining for nearly an hour straight.

Hanabi inhales through the straw of her iced tea until that horrible sucking noise starts bubbling and Hinata stops to glare at her.

“I’m out,” Hanabi sighs, crushing the paper cup between her fingers.

Hinata’s glare deepens. “Have you no sympathy, sister?”

"Kinda hard." Hanabi shrugs, pulling the straw from the cup to put in her mouth, chewing. Hinata instinctively reaches out to pull it from her and Hanabi huffs, annoyed. "Elder sister! Look, it sucks, and I do feel bad. But, arranged marriages are fashionable right now, and lots of clans are doing it. And you know I’m in the same boat, right? Father’s gonna marry me off when I turn 20, too, and I have to be clan leader.”

Hinata softens. She hadn’t quite thought of that in the time she’d been ranting.

“At least he’s hot, right?” Hanabi wiggles an eyebrow and Hinata’s sympathy fizzles out, lips pulling into a purposeful frown. “What! It’s true. You know how many girls would be falling over themselves to be in your position?”

Hinata wants to make a snarky remark, as Kiba might make but restrains herself. "Looks are not enough for me, unfortunately."

Hanabi shrugs, swiping the straw out of Hinata’s hands. Hinata lets out an annoyed grunt and tries to grab it back, and soon they’re in a petty slapping fight over this stupid straw.

“Sisters shouldn’t fight,” a lazy voice drawls near them, a voice she’s becoming far too familiar with once more. Hinata lets go of the straw out of reflex, feeling a little ashamed that Sasuke’s stumbled on her in the middle of a squabble with her sister.

“Heyyyy Uchiha.” Hanabi chomps down on the straw and kicks her feet up on the table outside of the café they were enjoying tea at (enjoying being subjective, of course).

Hinata watches as Sasuke nonchalantly plucks the straw from her mouth, then grabs at her ankles to pull her feet off the table. Hanabi whines. “Don’t you have manners, little Hyūga?”

“Hey!” Hanabi huffs, folding her arms in a pout as Sasuke pulls up the chair between them.

“He’s—” Hinata catches herself. She was about to point out that Sasuke was correct in his assessment that she was being rude but can’t bring herself to say it aloud. At this point, his ego is the last thing she wants to encourage.

“Scram, brat.” Sasuke nudges his head to the side, and Hanabi laughs, loudly.

“Think you can talk to an heiress like that?” Hanabi quirks an eyebrow, daring him.

“Thought you didn’t like that title, Lady Hanabi.” There’s no humor on Sasuke’s face as he says it.

“Don’t be jealous,” Hanabi berates, leans forward, and wags a finger in his face, "'cause you're just the runner-up in your own clan. Runner up in inheritance, runner up in looks, runner up in power—"

“Hanabi!” Even Hinata can’t stand to listen to this any longer, because she sees Sasuke’s eye twitch, and it’s one of the few times she witnesses it. Her sister is one of the few people that can bring a rise out of him, and she doesn’t care to have it happen right here and now.

“Fine, fine.” Hanabi heaves a dramatic sigh as she slams her palms on the table, gathering herself to her feet. She shoots Hinata a look, eyelids low. “I meant what I said though…” She glances at Sasuke, who is looking at her with the faintest hint of curiosity. Then, she glances down at his lap and finishes in a cryptic fashion, “I heard the rumors are true…”

Hinata rolls her eyes as Hanabi begins skipping away, humming and oh so pleased with herself. Sasuke turns his body to her, rests his arm on the table, and looks at her seriously. "What rumors?"

“Oh, you know…” Hinata says, vaguely.

There were no rumors. It was just her sister playing with Sasuke. Hinata decides she’d like to play with him, too. It wasn’t her who started it, anyway.

With an irritated grumble, he shakes his head and it makes her smile. He waves a hand in front of his face. “Anyway, I have a plan.”

“A plan?” Her interest is piqued, now.

“To get us out of this ridiculous arrangement.”

Hinata tips her head up, then turns her full body to face him. She nods at him to continue, hands clasped in her lap, ready to listen.

“We go over the top.”

She blinks. “Over the top how?”

“Affection.”

Her heart sinks. “Excuse me?”

“Like now.” He reaches out to set his hand on hers and it’s…uncomfortable. She automatically pulls it away and he rolls his eyes, annoyed. He grasps it again and slots his fingers between hers. Her face goes bright red and her mind goes cloudy. “Everywhere. Here, middle of the village, on missions, in front of our dads. Especially our dads.”

“I—I’m not understanding,” she breathes out, hand tugging from his. His grip tightens.

“Really lay it on thick,” he continues, “make them regret ever trying to pair us up. Basically, embarrass the hell out of both our clans.”

Her hand finally relaxes and she can focus on the way it feels. She’s surprised that his hand is actually warm, not icy like she’d imagined. Not that she’d ever really imagined what Sasuke’s hands would feel like…but it was interesting. Collecting her thoughts, she responds, “how do you figure that will make them call it off?”

“Think about it,” he responds, leaning in closer, “both our families are uptight. Having the children of the leaders acting ‘unbecoming’.” He pulls up his other hand to air-quote. "Neither of our dads wants us to be happy, not really. It’ll sicken them to the point they’ll have no choice but to separate us.”

Hinata ponders this plan.

It’s a ludicrous idea, she thinks, but she has nothing better to offer. It was like he could read her mind when he tells her, “feel free to throw out your own brilliant ideas.”

She huffs, looking away, eyes landing on their interlocked hands. It’s a very strange sensation to have Sasuke’s fingers interlacing with hers. “I have none.”

“Not surprised,” he scoffs, leaning away from her now. “Then you’re in?”

She bites her lip as she looks back up at him. He has a smirk on his lips, and it irks her that Hanabi’s right. He’s objectively hot (not the word Hinata would use) but his ego is far too big for his head and that is not hot (to her, at least). However, she can’t help but agree to this ridiculous plan. She truly had no better ideas, and she supposes it’s worth a shot. “Fine. We’ll try it, I suppose.”

“Good.” He nods approval and his other hand lifts to beckon her with his index finger. “Now kiss me.”

Hinata pales. “Excuse me?!”

“You’re in, right?” He raises an eyebrow, asking as if his command was as normal as telling someone to smile. She nods, reluctantly, and he curls the finger again. “So…kiss me.”

Hinata darts her eyes to the side. There are quite a few people around, many of whom she recognizes, and that makes her shudder. Unfortunately, that’s the point and that’s why he’s telling her to do it now. So, she sucks in a deep breath.

Hinata leans forward to press her lips to Sasuke’s. It’s a close-mouthed kiss, it’s short, and it is not romantic.

But then the hand that was beckoning her finds the back of her head and keeps her there, and a little gasp escapes her for it.

She does her best not to activate her byakugan, the overwhelming desire to close his main chakra point creeping up on her as his lips move against hers.

When she’s finally able to shove that urge back, she chooses to focus on how his lips feel against hers. She’s not the most experienced in kissing outside of a few clumsy moments as teenagers, but even she has to admit Sasuke might actually be…good at it. He’s not too rough in the way she feared boys would be, but he’s not entirely gentle, either. His lips move naturally against hers, and they’re soft, slick, and…strawberry flavored?

Does Sasuke Uchiha use strawberry-flavored lip balm?

The thought is quickly squashed when a panicked voice calls out. “HINATA?!”

Then Sasuke is being torn away from her, and her eyes fly open to find her cousin’s cascading, long brown hair towering over him.

“Neji!” she gasps out, eyes landing on his veiny ones, looking ready to seal each and every one of Sasuke’s chakra points.

“Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing, Uchiha?” Neji snaps, one foot coming to rest on Sasuke’s chest. Hinata whips her head around to see Tenten, mouth covered in shock, and Lee, who is quickly coming up behind Neji in an attempt to subdue the man.

Sasuke smirks smugly up at Neji, propping himself up on his elbows. “Kissing my fiancée. What are you doing, Hyūga?”

Neji stops at that, and Hinata swallows, chest feeling horribly tight.

"Neji…" Lee's voice calls him back, and Neji turns his head to meet his eyes with Hinata’s. The veins around his eyes relax, but he's still glaring.

“Hinata?” Neji’s asking for clarification, and she has no choice but to give it to him. Neji is aware of the marriage, but obviously has no clue about this plan Sasuke has concocted.

She clears her throat, and pulls her shoulders back, projecting confidence. "He’s right, Neji. I was kissing my…fiancé.”

With that Neji removes his foot, but not without shoving it into Sasuke’s chest briefly, causing him to groan and clutch at it. He moves away from Sasuke and turns his body to her. He comes closer and leans over her, in a hushed voice. “Really, Hinata?”

Her lips press into a line as she nods, quickly. He sighs, shaking his head.

“I didn’t think you’d cozy up so quickly,” he whispers, eyes darting to the side to catch Sasuke’s conceited look as he pulls himself to his feet. He returns to her. “Very well. Just…will you be a little less…”

“Horny about it?” Tenten interjects. Hinata recoils, not realizing she had flanked her from the other side. “Don’t give your poor cousin a heart attack.”

“I apologize.” Hinata bows her head, and she knows her face is beet red.

“Come.” Sasuke holds out an indolent hand for her between the two, and Hinata bites her tongue at his commanding attitude. No different than when they were children.

Neji tilts his head at Sasuke, his glare never leaving his expression. “Ask nicely, Uchiha.”

Sasuke clicks his tongue, eyebrow perked at the man. Then he looks back down at Hinata and her heart skips at his words, “come with me, Lady Princess Hinata Hyūga, loveliest, most breath-taking woman in the entire Land of Fire.”

Tenten laughs, loudly. Lee looks at him in confusion. Neji breathes an aggravated sigh.

Hinata’s jaw flexes as Sasuke continues, “please. Is that better?”

Neji doesn’t respond, nor does Hinata, but she takes his hand, regardless.

As he leads her away from Team Gai, she tries to control her breathing.

“Now where is it we’re going?” she asks, quietly, letting their fingers intertwine once more. She’s well aware of the questioning stares they’re receiving from the village folk.

“Dinner with the Uchiha,” he responds nonchalantly, not looking back at her, “time to become acquainted with the family again.”

Hinata’s stomach flips uncomfortably.

It had been a while since she’s seen his entire family together.

Next Chapter ->

[nullvoidface]

wound

CW injury, not described in detail

The Blight warband wasn’t exactly the most outstanding ‘band in the fahrar. In fact, they weren’t the ‘most’-anything. Other than perhaps the most unexceptional group of charr.

Corvus Blightstep, 14 years old, with fur like fire and charcoal, trodded forward. The suffix to his name chosen for his eager curiosity for the world around him.

You’d be forgiven for thinking it was due to his inability to sit still though.

“I don’t like this…” A taller charr muttered, mostly to herself. She was larger set than Corvus, her fur nearly the same shade as the sand in Grothmar Valley. Her blue eyes (though she insisted they were green) scanning the near barren land.

Before them, a lone mountain rested, the locals claimed it to be a dragon, though Corvus doubted it.

Corvus chuckled. “Are you scared?” He looked back at Malia Fairblight, her crystal eyes staring him down.

“Of course I’m not- besides if the dragon was real I’d kill it.” She pouted and walked up besides the smaller charr. “But… Our primus is gonna be really mad if he finds out we skipped training.” Malia let out a nervous laugh.

Corvus took a few seconds to respond. “Yeah,” was all he said as he continued forward with Malia behind him.

Once they made it to the small settlement at the mountain, they managed to get through some shrubbery to finally stand on some boulders at the foot of the mountain.

Looking up, Corvus felt himself get vertigo as he tried to determine the true size of the cliffs.

“There’s no way we’re gonna climb that.“ Corvus looked back to Malia who was looking up at the steep wall of rock. “At least we know it’s not alive.” Malia chuckled.

“I could do it.” And immediately he regretted speaking up. He knew he had to do it now or he would never hear the end of it.

“Really?” Malia cocked a brow in disbelief. “I don’t think you can even reach that crack.” She let out a light laugh as she pointed to a large crack in the rock not too far above Corvus. The wind had thrown dirt and seeds into it, allowing for grass to grow wild.

Corvus flicked his ears and tail. “Watch me.” He huffed, suddenly feeling more sure about his abilities than he probably should. He took a few steps, placed his back paw on a rock and stretched his body as far as he could, pushing off the rock with his other leg for just long enough to gain enough height to grab onto the ledge with his paws.

He grunted as he managed to place a paw above the crack and held on. Placing his back paws into the crack, he could look down at Malia with a smug grin plastered across his face.

“Just be careful, I don’t want you to fall. The ground is pretty rough.” She crossed her arms and watched as Corvus climbed even higher. She grew more and more nervous. This wasn’t a controlled environment like when they had the primus nearby.

Sure the village wasn’t too far away, but she would really prefer if she didn’t have to run off for help.

Corvus continued upwards, now at least four metres up. He was above the shrubbery.

“Corvus, I think that’s enough.” Malia was growing uneasy watching the smaller teen. The vertigo was starting to set in as she followed his figure up and up and up.

“Shit-“ there was a deep shattering sound as a rock hit the ground and split into pieces on the rock below.

“Corvus, come back down, it’s not-“ Malia didn’t finish her sentence before she watched as Corvus came crashing down with a thud.

He coughed and sat up to grab his shoulder. Bleeding heavily from the large gash.

Malia stood there for a few more seconds until she was finally able to comprehend what had happened.

“Son of a-“ Corvus winced as he moved his paw slightly to better put pressure on the wound.

“You’re such an idiot! I told you!” Malia knelt down by Corvus and looked at the wound. It was pretty bad.

“Go.” Corvus said, almost a command.

“What-? No, you’re bleeding.” Malia shook her head.

Corvus felt the pain a bit less now the adrenaline was kicking in. “If you go you won’t get in trouble.” Corvus gave her a pleading look. He didn’t want to be the cause of someone else’s punishment yet again. He could deal with that on his own.

He would just wait a bit before making his way back to the fahrar, it clearly wasn’t anything deadly.

Malia nodded and disappeared behind the shrubs.

Corvus let himself cry for a few moments, cursing himself out for his stupidity.

And then, like nothing had happened, he got up on his hind legs, clutching his shoulder, and walked back to the fahrar.

[after-out-of-place]

Sila / DD - The Gems (Part 1)

DD zoomed towards the city a bit faster than the intergalactic speed limit allowed in this area of the known universe. She was in a rush but not reckless, the goal was to reach San Bearino in one piece, and if she was on time to meet her bestie, then all the better. (Sila was of the patient lot.)

After nearly 40 mins of concentrated driving, and stopping for two untimely red lights, she was at the parking lot of the mall they had arranged to meet, and twisted down the floors to -14 where Sila preferred to park - on account of it always being half empty. As she got there, she heard a whistle, and she clenched her jaw, remembering countless cat calls any time she walked down the streets of San Bearino. She had gotten disincentivized to the sound almost completely at the time, but now it got to her - there had been no cat calling in her direction for a couple of years, both on account of her not roaming the streets in the wee hours of the morning, and on the account of her beloved BG not leaving her side for longer than a breath when they ventured out of the Sanctuary. It was the whistling which got her out of her own head again, because it wasn’t her usual cat call, it was, as she realised with a pang of pain, the tune of one of the band’s older songs. DD quickly located Sila from the tune and parked up in the spot next to her.

As DD took her helmet off and peeled her protective suit from her slender frame, Sila was still humming the song, leaning against the side of her car. Sila’s arms, neck and earrings were draped in thin bands of copper, brass and gold, she wore the pair of harem trousers the two of them had picked on their last shopping trip and a halter top, which allowed all the movement required for six arms to move freely. DD looked her part too, with a fitted suit of uncreasable material and deep V, and a few tasteful bits of jewellery from her beloved. DD ruminated that Sila actually had a lovely, soothing voice, and thought back to the times when Sila was not only After Out of Place’s drummer, but singer too. Both the band and the producers knew Sila’s voice was not strong enough for live stage performances, so Chritty’s arrival to the band was more than welcomed by all of them, yet DD had to admit she quite enjoyed listening to Sila's lulling voice. “Are you gonna stare at me forever, Glam Girl?” “I didn’t want to interrupt your singing. I like it.” “We can sing and walk!”

The two moved side by side towards the elevators continuing the song together. When they first formed the band, DD sang the back up vocals on some of their tracks, though her heart was not really into it. These days, she only sang in the Sanctuary, as she danced around doing her chores. But in the practically dead -14 level of the car park, she allowed herself to join in, and the two friends danced and sang as they walked one of the band’s oldest songs. When they got to the lift they were at the chorus and Sila went into an interpretation of Chritty’s singing voice, a mixture of meowing, howling, purring and actual singing, which Sila could not possibly do at the same time, so did one after the other, and DD’s laughter echoed and bounced across the concrete walls and pillars of the parking lot. It really was for the best that Chritty was their singer now, the band had found their identity with him. **** They started with some delicious lunch - insect sushi for DD and fiery veg rice for Sila. They spoke about things at the Sanctuary, about the goose finally settling in with CryonGlub and BG having to put up a long and tall fence to give Marcie and her ducklings some respite from the ever excitable quadruped. DD was more than keen to share pictures of CryonGlub doing just about anything, sleeping, eating, howling, bubbling, giving sass to BG, staring into space, just merely existing, and Sila was equally excited to see them all. They arranged the next date Sila would take CryonGlub for a long walk to give BG and DD some space, alongside all the other Sanctuary inhabitants, and for Sila to spend time in the great outdoors as she called it - the hills near San Bearino, where she sometimes went hiking. DD asked tentatively about Sila and how she was, how her work was, and just as usual was met with answers which both let on how her friend was somewhat stressed out, but also vague of any particulars. It was rare Sila opened up about her work, though sometimes she had asked DD for advice on how to tackle conversations with some of her coworkers. DD felt honoured in those moments, and did her best to support her friend. Even after all these years of hanging out at Our Place, and then in the band and outside of it, Sila had kept her private life to herself. DD was sure her friend was single, for one, and that she lived in one of the nicer areas of the city, though she had never visited. DD had hoped that now the whole story with her sister and her father was out, Sila would feel like she could share too, but perhaps the time hadn’t come just yet. DD only hoped it would not take such monumental efforts as it had with BG in the time of their crisis.

The friendship between the two girls had started off timidly, they were both reserved and almost professional in their dealings with one another at the start. BG had used his calm charm to facilitate a more friendlier tone between them, and slowly but surely they had warmed up to one another. Still, their friendship was built on unreserved support, lack of judgement and not meddling in the other’s affairs. And meddle she would not. Perhaps there would be a time. Perhaps not.

Sila kept throwing side glaces to one of the side tables and DD raised a brow at her friend. “Some diamond studded wanna-bes are a-glaring.” explained Sila. DD used her hand mirror to steal a glance and frowned. “Oh that’s Gemma and her girls, ‘gems’ she calls them.” then she confirmed: “Yes, that very same Gemma…” “Well, they better keep their distance, because my palms are rather itchy today.”

[mortalprinceoflies]

Name: Luke Blackburn

Age: 39

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual, Polysexual

Fc: Jeremy Jordan

Appearance: 5’10”, fit but has a dad bod (and he’s proud of it!), short dark hair, hazel eyes (they shift between light brown/green/red depending on his mood, but he almost never notices), big smile, multiple ear piercings, style varies between “that one cool teacher” and early 2000’s grunge/punk.

Personality: Clever, excellent storyteller, good listener as long as he’s not stuck in his own head, sarcastic/quick witted, makes dad jokes specifically to embarrass his two older daughters and make his youngest laugh out loud, can’t go through daily life without music in the background, will burst into song whenever he feels like it, petty but specifically in a merciful way, puts on a brave face for his daughters and students but has a lot of trauma, definitely a theater kid, protective, has a vengeful streak.

Occupation: high school guidance councilor (verse dependent)

Talents: singing, acting, playing violin and piano, getting people to open up to him.

Abilities (when he recovers his memories and magic): Fire manipulation, illusion, glowing eyes, transformation into his angel form (blond hair, red eyes, black wings, glowing skin, fiery halo made of eyes, goat/ram horns), vocal hypnosis. He’s not as strong as he was as Satan, not by a long shot, and he can’t wield contract magic, nor does he gain immortality. He can also learn various spells and rituals, if he chooses to.

Likes: Music, peaches, soul food and authentic Mexican food, motorcycles and classic muscle cars, musical theater, spending time with his family, tattoos, tongue piercings, horror comedies, football (he and Riley play whenever they get a chance.)

Dislikes: Organized religion, hypocrisy, grits, pineapple, fishing (he doesn’t have the patience), clubbing, golf, politics.

Family: Mother (Lydia Blackburn née Cromwell), Father (Richard Blackburn), Wife (Delaney Blackburn née Roberts), Daughters (Riley - born July 4, 2004, Morgan - born February 14, 2006, Jayden - born October 31, 2009)

Birthday: July 13, 1984

Background: Nearly forty years ago, during the height of the Satanic Panic, Lucifer and Lilith had yet another falling out. Of course, their relationship had never been the best; he was stubborn and controlling, she was ambitious and bitter, and they’d reached a point some decades ago where even phenomenal sex and the hint of a light at the end of the tunnel weren’t enough to keep them together. To say that the divorce wasn’t going well would be the understatement of the century. Lilith wanted many things that Lucifer wasn’t willing to give up, chiefest among them being half of Hell to rule as her own. She claimed to want to focus on rehabilitating sinners rather than torturing them. Lucifer, paranoid and corrupted as he was, was not only convinced that she was lying, but also that there was no need for rehabilitation in the first place. Sinners went to hell to face endless repentance. It’s what they deserved! What he deserved. They argued back and forth, each screaming and throwing things in an effort to prove they were right. What he didn’t know was that Lilith had already been gathering power behind his back. She had worshippers. Faith. And she was ready and willing to use it against him.

Thus, Luke Blackburn was born to a wealthy couple in Macon, Georgia (US) in 1984 as a healthy human baby boy, and Lilith took over as the Queen of Hell.

As a child, Luke was restless, but well taken care of. He showed an interest in art and music at a young age, though his parents only permitted him to learn to play the violin and the piano in a vain attempt to keep his talents refined. It didn’t stop him from taking an interest in country/western, folk, Rock’n’Roll, and heavy metal. He learned to play songs that they didn’t approve of, and took great pleasure in doing so, even joining a folk metal band in his teen years.

The older he got, the more rebellious Luke grew, denouncing his Baptist upbringing all together. He and his bandmates would regularly go out of their way to organize and run charitable fundraising concerts around the same time as the local churches would, benefitting everyone from homeless vets to at risk youth to local shelters and food pantries. This led to them simultaneously becoming local celebrities and social pariahs, as church leaders labeled them an evil satanic cult. There was a small media shitstorm. Mob mentality took hold. The unfortunate passing of the band’s guitarist in a road rage accident led to them finally dissolving, and Luke has carried guilt over it ever since, even though it wasn’t his fault.

He was seventeen and still trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life when his mother finally saw how much he was struggling. She tried to connect with him, to help him, but he pulled away, convinced that she was just trying to get him to go back to church. It took several tries for her to make even the smallest crack in the barriers he’d put up, but when she showed up at one of the shelters he was volunteering at and started working, those barriers began to crumble. They began talking more, carpooling, coordinating. Coexisting. When she told him that she hadn’t been to a church service since his friend’s funeral, he was shocked, immediately asking why. She said it felt hollow to worship a god who would condemn a young man for being different, especially when he’d done so much good for others, and that she couldn’t stand how the worshippers of such a god talked about the people around them. As if they were below or lesser than. She confessed that she’d been struggling with her faith for a long time beforehand, but only recently realized why.

Luke and his mother continued to grow closer after that. She was the first person he told about his sexuality when he was 18, and she accepted him with open arms. His father did, too, at her insistence. When he expressed an interest in studying to become a councilor of some kind, his parents were supportive, paying for him to go to a top university. When he got a girl pregnant at 20, they were disappointed, but more than willing to help out when he said he’d take full responsibility. His eldest daughter, Riley, was born just before his 21st birthday, and while he never married her mother, he was a very dedicated co-parent. He met his future wife shortly after that, a spunky law student named Delaney who knew she wanted him almost immediately. Her boyfriend at the time was also into him, and the two would regularly invite him over for threesomes, but he rarely had the time or energy to accept due to school and parental duties. It wasn’t until Delaney made an effort to connect with baby Riley that Luke realized that he could see himself spending the rest of his life with her. He proposed on a brisk spring morning. She eagerly accepted, having broken up with her boyfriend only a month prior, and even insisted that they get married over Spring Break at a courthouse. He was a bit taken aback by her overenthusiasm, but she was earnest when she told him that she wanted to build a life with him and Riley.

His parents were not thrilled with the suddenness of the wedding, but agreed to go along with it as long as they were allowed to host a larger ceremony later on in the summer or early fall. Luke and Delaney happily made the compromise. By the time the ceremony rolled around, Delaney was already pregnant with their first daughter, Morgan, who was born the following Valentine’s Day. After that, the couple made the decision not to have any more kids until after both of them were out of school and working steady jobs.

Things were rocky for a while, but they made it work, becoming quite the formidable team. Delaney graduated first, and was almost instantly offered a position at Luke’s father’s law firm, which she graciously accepted. Luke graduated that fall, having finished his degree early, and took a guidance councilor position at the high school he graduated from. He and his wife coordinated their schedules so that at least one of them was always home with the girls, which was challenging but doable. Things were looking up for the Blackburn family. Mostly. It was around this time that Luke began having horrific nightmares of hellfire and brimstone, of tortured faces that seemed both far too familiar and totally unrecognizable. He began losing sleep, which Delaney recognized quickly and confronted him about. When he told her about his fucked up dreams, she held him, tried to comfort him, encouraged him to seek therapy, which he resisted at first, but eventually agreed to. It helped him more than he thought it would, causing him to open up about past traumas that he’d previously kept locked away. Things got better again, slowly but surely.

Jayden was a surprise, but definitely a pleasant one! She was born on Halloween, a holiday baby like her sisters before her, and instantly captivated Riley and Morgan. Her whole family adored her, and still does! Even now, in the thick of their teen years, with Riley off at college, the three sisters are thick as thieves. Morgan is a junior in high school, and she does her best to protect and help Jayden through her freshman year. Luke legitimately couldn’t be prouder!

He and Delaney opened up their marriage recently, after having a lengthy conversation with their daughters about what that means. They still love each other passionately, and are very committed to their partnership and the family they’ve built, but they both have an interest in experimenting with other partners and possibly adding a third person to their relationship.

[blanketmoss]

Ok everyone get ready for angsty teenage talk time here we go (ok coming back to this it got really long and upsetting I’m hiding it under a cut but I’m still posting it because it helps for some reason)

I got into a massive argument with my stepdad, it wasn’t really an argument he was just following me around screaming at me while I was crying (because loud and also grown man yelling at me)

Like it was bad to the point where my mum had to stand between us, and two other adults who heard about it were shocked at how far he went with screaming

This all started because I asked him to please not put my switch on the arm of the sofa if he knew it was going to fall off and kept telling me not to do that (I just thought it was strange that he would do something he knew could damage it and was so strict with me about)

But uh yeah apparently it was a buildup of months of stress and other stuff unrelated to me but still. I’m guessing you shouldn’t take it out on a 16 year old when you’re nearly 50

I HATE that he follows me while screaming too it’s so overwhelming and I end up biting myself and screaming and hitting my head into walls and stuff

I feel like anything that comes out of my mouth is misinterpreted by him because he’s expecting me to be a stereotypical sitcom teenager that constantly berates people

Also like once or twice a year (more when I was 13-14) something like this happens and me and my mum have the ‘would you be happier if I divorced him’ talk and I always say not to because I don’t want to ruin our lives and change everything over an argument

I feel like I can’t say anything around him because he ends up thinking I’m trying to put him in the wrong or tell him off or I’m ‘being cheeky’ or something

Fffuck I hate being autistic I wish it was just me and other autistic people and my mum my mum is the only one who gets close to understanding, she tries to work with me not against me and I love her so much. I know he would never hurt me and especially not her but when they argue I get worried he could get mad enough to do something stupid and take her away from me forever

Sometimes I want to hurt my stepdad because it feels like he tolerates me to be with my mum and other times I love him and see him as a father figure it’s so complicated

Like I love him as a dad but he’s also a big reason why 13 year old me almost made myself not exist anymore

Human relationships are so complex I wish I was an insect in a zoo I could just eat and exist

I feel like I was born on the wrong planet or something I love earth so much but the humans on it are so awful to me sometimes because something about me is off and they can tell, and the only tolerable humans tell me they feel like they’re from other planets too

I feel like an alien trying to find other aliens to stay sane while stranded on a foreign planet with inhabitants that consider me vermin

[imjustacargirl]

Animals and Anxiety

With Christmas just around the corner, Its time to reflect and yet we feel slightly empty in our home this year. Its been nearly a year now since we had to say goodbye to our Moo and sometimes I still hear him scratching on my door at night or see him out the corner of my eye. It’s strange the effect pets have on us as humans, though not in our life for very long they still have a long lasting effect on us. They become part of our homes and our families. They have personalities. Funny traits. Emotions. But why? Why do they invade our homes and settle and become part of us? How do they have this emotional effect on us and our families? And why do we like it? Well, I recall evenings during my childhood when I was sad my cat would immediately know if I wasn’t happy and would be by my side. If it was in the evening and I was in bed he would stay with me until I fell asleep. But how do they know? That’s the one thing I could never understand. How did he have such a soothing effect on me without even uttering a word. Just his presence alone was enough to sooth me. But how?

The science behind it

It has been proven scientifically that animal petting helps reduce the stress hormone Cortisol. Specifically the act of petting causes physical changes within the body from reducing cortisol to increasing the endorphin levels within the body. But why? I find that the physical touch is the reason for this as the soft feeling of an animals fur acts as a soothing stimuli much like a teddy bear or soft animal. The physical touch creates a soothing effect as a release of oxytocin is also a result. Further helping in reducing stress levels. Studies have shown that they provide a happy effect on those who are disabled aiding them in increased levels of smiling and speech where having a pet dog has led to them wanting to interact with people more.

Unconditional Love

Furthermore to this, pets have an unconditional love bond to their owners. They don’t judge us for the things we do or say. They offer unconditional love and acceptance to us. This reduces stress too as it provides us a small sanctuary where there is always our pet at home which gives us a somewhere to go regardless of our actions. They are always there for us even in our darkest times let alone our best times. We nurture and protect them and in turn they offer us loyalty. They are out little sidekick who is always by our side waiting for us to come home from work or school. It has been said that if an owner dies in their home a dog will lay down next to them and die too as they cannot get food or water anymore. In Edinburgh there was a dog called the Greyfriars Bobby and he spent 14 years guarding his dead owners grave until his own death in 1872. Never leaving his owners side even in death.

Mindful effects

Their presence alone can act as a method of mindfulness. Interactions with them can act as a way of grounding yourself and being in the present as it is just you and your pet. No other external distractions just the two of you. It not even physical touch that creates this effect but also the physical activity which accompanies it as daily walk and playing. Providing a distraction to allow for the mind to rest. Creating a calm and trusted environment knowing that no matter what your pet will be there for you regardless creating a restful environment where one can recharge and re-energize.

But how do we get to this point? How do they work their way into our hearts and homes? There’s a  feeling of responsibility and purpose we receive from welcoming them into our new homes like a new-born baby. As when owning a pet it comes with all the responsibility similar to having a child. They need to be feed, played with, exercised or bathed. All are important activities which need to be done almost daily when owning a pet. By doing so we feel a sense of accomplishment and responsibility as their living and happiness depends on you. Allowing for us to feel as though they are our own little child which we have to look after. Making them part of our family no matter how big or small.

Well, when looking at this overall it is clear to see that we love and care for our animals like they are part of our family. Acting as emotional expressors where they allow for us to express all our emotions good and bad through their companionship. They allow for a space to release our emotions as well as giving us a sense of pride and responsibility. From giving us unconditional love, always being there for us, giving us something to care for and be there for them in return. They give us a place to express how we feel, spend time with exercise and feel at home with. That sense of security that only family can provide. Giving us a sense of purpose and companionship. And as the year comes to a close that’s what I’ve been missing this last year. My little furry friend waiting for me at the door when I come home. Or giving me a morning/bedtime cuddle. Even if he could have been a pain in my arse a few times it never mattered because he loved me and I him. He was always there for me when things went wrong. An invisible presence that even if he wasn’t in the room you could still feel that he was here. Where now the silence is deafening. He truly is gone but he is and will always be part of our family.