#genuinely someone lock me up i would ride this man until my lungs gave out

[slytherinslut0]

can you please write something about tom being tied up!!!! please please!!!! i know you would write this so well🥹

hejsjahshs uhm okay this could go many different ways but if you read my fic ‘this is your punishment’ i feel like reader from that fic would be looking to get revenge and what better way to disarm tom than to take away the one thing that man needs more than anything? control.

“what is this—what are you—“ tom’s voice dies off as you tighten the magical bonds around his wrists, tugging him back snug into the chair he’s so adorably trying to slip out of. it’s laughable really, the way you turned the tables back onto him and just how much he fucking hates it. “this isn’t funny. you don’t want to start this with me—“

with a flick of your finger, his tie is between his teeth and his pitiful threats are muffled—as useless as his squirming. with a smirk, you take a step back from where he’s seated, drinking him down in all his glory under the dim lighting inside his dorm. you’ve never seen him like this. vulnerable. the way his muscles flex against his shirt as he squirms, brows pinched and jaw tense—

it’s intoxicating.

”c’mon, tommy…you didn’t really think i wouldn’t get you back, did you?” your fingers find the buttons of your shirt, slowly undoing them one by one. his squirming stops as soon as you move to the second button, chest heaving as he watches you—your pulse soars, spurred on by the way his eyes burn your skin. “look, you’re talented—so bloody good with spells, i’ll give you that. but i think you forgot that i’m good too.”

at that, his eyes narrow and his head tilts just slightly—you slip the last button free on your blouse and let the fabric fall free from your shoulders, black-laced breasts bared to those raging midnight eyes.

“we’re more alike than you thought, tommy. you underestimated me, and that carelessness is the reason you’re sitting there, and i’m standing here.” you step closer again, leaning forward until you’re bent before him, breasts spilling out of the thin lace barely containing them— “a pity, isn’t it?”

he groans into the tie, and you see it—the way he’s warring with himself, not sure where to let his eyes settle—bouncing back and fourth between your tits and your smirk laden lips, hiding behind the irritation as if letting you know he loves this would mean losing.

tom riddle has never been a good loser.

“yes, such a pity.” you nod to yourself, pursing your lips. he is beautiful—beautiful in a way that is far past disastrous but when he’s stuck like this, tied up before you, he’s tamed in a way you know isn’t possible otherwise. all that danger, held back by a silly little spell. “though, i have to say…what’s even more pitiful, is the way you’ve been denying yourself.”

you slip a finger under his jaw, urging his chin up until his eyes have no where to look except into yours. you can’t believe how bold you’re being.

“you could have fucked me, you know. merlin knows i wanted it.” you whisper, free hand slipping down to his knee. “but you chose a spell. because you’re superior, right? a man above impulse?”

he grunts against the fabric in his mouth when your fingers tease timidly up his thigh—you glance down just as he shifts his legs, spreading them wider, pants tight in the crotch as his body betrays him.

you shush him, tutting. drunk off the power trip. “i know. you’re so disciplined, tommy. the rest of us could only wish to be as strong as you.”

salazar save you—you’re playing with matches, biting your lip, unable to look away. you can’t tell forsure but the outline of him looks monstrous under this shitty lighting—and you remember now, just how much you hate this game.

but regardless, you’ll play along—after all, he’s the one that made the rules, who are you to break them?

“look at you,” you whisper, fingers slipping higher, dangerously close. you graze his bulge and his hips twitch, his head almost falling back until you slip your fingers around his jaw, holding his eyes to yours. “you’re so hard.. and i’ve barely touched you…when’s the last time you got off, huh? when’s the last time you’ve fucked?”

AKSJAISHSJ OK I CANT WRITE BLURBS IM SORRY THIS GOT AWAY FROM ME BUT—

[in-ky]

An Old Scent [1] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)

Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.

Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, age gap, Negan

A/N: yay first fic! this will have four parts! i hope everyone enjoys. this is an au where the apocalypse never happened. 3.2k words

I squinted as I stepped out into the bright Virginian sun. People swarmed all around me, creating the steady hum of airport ambience that I had grown accustomed to over the years. I had just gotten off a four-hour flight home from college and all I wanted to do was shower and curl up in bed. But I couldn't. Oh, no. First I had to endure a fun thirty-minute car ride with my best friend since second grade. I scanned the curb in front of me for her small black car and caught sight of a tall woman waving at me. I grinned and walked forward, tugging along my baggage behind me.

"Ugh, it's so good to see you, Bee." I sighed as I enveloped my friend into a large hug. She let out a laugh and swayed us gently.

"It's good to see you, too," She hummed, rustling my hair "I forgot how short you were." Bee was an alpha; tall, muscular, and very quick to remind me of our differences. Of course, it was in a 'joking with love' kind of way. I was an omega; small, rounded, and very quick to punch her gently in the abdomen.

"I forgot how much of a jerk you are." I quipped, huffing and wheeling my bag to her trunk.

"Oh, come on, babes, don't be like that," Bee laughed, opening the driver side door and waiting for me to walk back to my side. "Now get in, we've got a lot of catching up to do."

---

"How are your heats going?"

"Jesus, that's what you want to start with?" I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. Bee shrugged.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," She clarified, turning out onto the street "I'm just saying, I know they've gotten pretty bad as we've gotten older. Did you try out those tips I sent you?"

"Yea, I did," I said quietly, looking at the trees rushing by on the side of the highway "They worked for a while but..."

"But you need an alpha," Bee sighed, finishing the sentence for me.

"That's the plan for this summer," I agreed "Might finally settle down."

"You know, I'm always here if you need me." She said with a wink. I scoffed at her.

"I'm not that desperate," I laughed, shoving her lightly "Not yet, at least."

"Anyone take your interest back in Colorado?"

"Not really," I hummed, tilting my head in consideration. "There was this one guy. We dated for a few months but towards the end he became a total knot-head. He couldn't keep his hands off me. I thought it was cute at first, but after I started to miss a few classes...well, that shit got old pretty quickly." Bee made a disgusted noise.

"Ugh, men," She grunted, wrinkling her nose "I'm glad I never went through that phase. I'm perfectly happy with chicks, thank you very much. Much less of a pain in my ass."

"Oh, they're not so bad," I smirked "I think it's just alphas in general." She glared at me momentarily and I stuck my tongue out at her. We drove in a comfortable silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company. That was always something I loved about Bee. We never had to fill every second with chatter, we could just exist together in the same space and be just as content. She started to hum along to the song that buzzed softly from the radio and my eyes tracked a hawk. Soon enough, we reached our exit and Bee turned the car onto a smaller road, starting the countdown to my arrival home.

"Are you excited to see your dad?" Bee asked, killing the silence.

"Yea, I am," I smiled. We hadn't always had the best of relationships, but the distance that college gave had done wonders for us. A few texts and calls had worked perfectly for us. When he invited me to stay a few weeks during summer I gladly accepted. I wanted to see just how well our relationship had strengthened. Plus I knew he really needed someone.

"How's he doing?" There was genuine concern in Bee's voice. A few months ago, my mom had revealed that she had been having an affair with one of dad's work buddies. She left with him and took my brother down to Georgia.

"I think he's okay. But you know dad, he's not really an emotions guy. He was starting to get some closure but then the divorce papers came in the mail. That really hurt him," I told her, twisting a strand of my hair around my finger. "I just don't know how Lori could do that to him, you know? She won't even let Carl up to visit. The new baby's cute, though. Looks just like Shane." Bee hummed in acknowledgement.

"Well, tell him I said hi, alright?"

"Will do." A few more seconds of silence passed. Until we stopped at a light. Bee looked up and spotted a billboard that sported a very familiar, very handsome face.

"Holy shit!" Bee shrieked, slapping my arm.

"Ow, what the hell?" I hissed, grabbing my shoulder. She pointed frantically at the sign.

"That guy! Isn't that, shit- the hell's his name?" Pulling my eyes from my lap, I let them settle on the object of her excitement. All of the color drained from my face. It was an add for a law firm. There was an old geezer posing proudly on the left, and to his right, was the man who haunted my wet dreams for the majority of high school.

"Negan." I gulped.

"Yea, your dad's hot friend you never shut up about." Bee groaned, pressing on the gas and moving us away from the sign. Negan was a lawyer/make-shift-law-professor and baseball coach at the local community college. He had a sort-of contract with my dad's department. Many times I had come home after school to the two of them puzzling out a case on the kitchen table. Negan was an alpha of alphas, something that got my little omega heart (and other things) pumping until I couldn't breath. His humor and dominating persona made me blush a deep crimson color any time I saw him. Sometimes I would spend hours sitting on the stairs just listening to him talk to my dad. His voice was something else. I had gushed to Bee about him countless times during our times at high school. But I hadn't seen him since my graduation party.

"I wonder if you'll see him again," Bee teased, nudging me again to pull me out of my trance of memories. Then, she did a dramatic gasp. "What if he's your mate?" It was my turn to slap her in the shoulder.

"He's older than my dad!" I squealed, burying my now-blushing cheeks in my hands.

"You're an adult I don't think it matters."

"I think he's engaged."

"Just 'cause there's a goalie doesn't mean you can't scoooore." Bee pulled a face at me and I returned her grimace.

"Whatever, you're lucky we're almost at my house." I huffed, falling back into my seat with my arms crossed over my chest.

"Oh, yea, omega? What are you gonna do?" I rolled my eyes as she laughed off my grumpiness. We rolled to a stop in front of my driveway and a leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks so much, Bee, I really appreciate you," I grinned, popping open the door.

"No problem, babes," She winked, unlocking the trunk "But I swear to the gods, you better fucking call me and give me updates on everything, especially if you run into Mr. Hotcakes." I rolled my eyes once more and promised her I would before closing the door. I retrieved my bag and gave her a wave as she drove down the street. When she was out of view, I took a deep breath and turned around, walking up the driveway to the front door.

I knocked heavily on the dark oak door. While I waited for someone to answer, I decided to look around at the home I had left behind about a year ago. My childhood home had changed now and then over the years, but there were still some iconic pieces of memories in the front yard that could never be forgotten. My personal favorite was Eddie the garden gnome. He was a standard gnome: small and stout with a large white beard that led into a pointy red hat. His eyes were shut and his mouth was curved into a smile. However, he was missing a nose. I grinned as I recalled the unfortunate mishap that caused Eddie to become deformed. I was about twelve, and carl was five. He had gotten a kid's baseball from Negan for his birthday and had begged me to teach him how to play, since I was on the local softball team at the time. I relented and set it up in the front yard. Eddie was our outfielder. Eddie didn't have a mitt. Well, he did, but it was his face. Carl absolutely smashed the first pitch I tossed at him and hit poor Eddie right in the face, shattering his round, pink nose into pieces. Carl bursted into tears and I had to promise him that he did not in fact kill our precious protector of our house. Lori ran out frantically and comforted her son before giving me a thorough chewing out for damaging Eddie. We never used the set again. That she knew of, anyways. Negan always let us play in his yard, though. I smiled at the memory, but the clicking of the lock to the door pulled me from my train of thought. The door swung open and I was met with the smiling face of my father.

"Sweetie, I'm so glad you made it!" He laughed, pulling me in swiftly and squeezing me tight.

"It's good to see you too, dad." I croaked, letting out a small chuckle. I tapped on his shoulder as a signal for him to let go.

"How was the flight?" He asked as he stepped out to grab my bag. I told him it was good but that the screaming kids had given me a bit of a headache. He gave a small laugh and gestured for me to enter. I thanked him and he rolled my bag in behind me. We exchanged a few words but as soon as I walked through the kitchen into the doorway of the living room I was hit by a wall. Not literally, no, but rather a wall of overwhelming scent. It was a delicious swirl of campfire and whiskey, with a hint of cigarettes and leather. I paused for a moment, my eyes forced closed and my lungs taking a deep breath of the intoxicating air. Colors danced across my eyelids. My whole body was flooded with warmth and my toes tingled. I felt safe and calm, and there was something else; something deep within my stomach that I couldn't quite identify, something I never felt before. My eyes snapped open when I felt my father's hand rest firmly on my shoulder.

"I hope you don't mind, sweetie, but I invited company over while I was waiting for you to arrive," He smiled at me. I got a good look at him then. He looked the same, his hair was a bit longer, a bit greyer. But his eyes were different. They were darker, rounder, rawer. I gave a soft smile and told him it was fine. He guided me into the living room. It was then I realized where that deadly smell was coming from. Or, rather, who it was coming from. "Negan, you remember my girl." In that moment, I held my breath as I scanned Negan. He looked fucking amazing, just as he always had. Perfect dimples guarding a charming smile, all surrounded by a gorgeous salt and pepper beard. His hair was longer than it was when I had left, not slicked back, but it still framed his face perfectly. Negan's body was draped casually over the sectional couch, legs crossed at the ankle on the ottoman. His arms were on the top of the couch and his wrists were dangling. He knew he was hot. That bastard. I suddenly became aware of his eyes raking over my form and I shifted from one foot to the other.

"'course I do, Rick," Negan said, voice silky and deep. I couldn't help but let a small shudder run down my spine. All I wanted to do was kneel down in front of him and curl up at his feet. I forced my inner omega down, shaking the thought from my head. "How could I forget the little slugger?" I cringed inside at the nickname. Especially the use of the word 'little'. I begged that he didn't still see me as the kid down the street. Instead as a grown woman. A grown omega.

"Hi, Negan." I greeted with a small smile, swallowing to relieve my dry throat. Now that I was next to him, his scent was clogging all my senses. I gripped onto the couch and lowered myself onto the cushion, hoping to ground myself. It helped, just barely. My heart was pounding, my instincts telling me to submit to this man in front of me. Why, though? Why now? He had never smelled this good before. No alpha had. Was I getting close to my heat? I did have a stomach ache, but that could be from Negan alone.

"Hey, sweetheart. How's college goin'?" Negan asked, sipping on his drink. He kept eye contact with me the whole time. Rick handed me a glass of soda and I thanked him.

"It's good!" I said after taking a sip, thankful for the hydration in my coarse throat "Towards the end it got a little hectic, but I was able to stay on top of everything, thankfully."

"You're studying film, right?" He asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"That's right," I grinned, crossing my legs to relieve some of the pressure the movement caused to build up in my lower abdomen "You still teaching law?" This caused him to chuckle. Literally music to my ear.

"If that's what you want to fuckin' call it." Negan sighed, falling back to his original position, hands resting in his lap "I talk, the kids kinda listen. I just do it for the coaching job, really. You remember how much I love that damn sport, right?"

"Baseball?" I asked, raising a brow "You mean the only thing you talked about at all of the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners you were invited to?"

"Touché." Negan grinned. Goddamn that smile. Butterflies erupted in my chest, beating hard against my ribcage, begging to throw myself at his chest and bury myself in him. Rick cleared his throat and smiled at me to get my attention.

"I want to know more about your college experience!" He beamed, rubbing a hand through his beard "Any special alphas you've got your eyes on?" I heard Negan choke slightly on his whiskey. A small bubble of pride rose in my chest. I laughed at his words.

"Dad, I don't think Negan wants to hear about my love life."

"Shit, doll, I don't mind," He grumbled "I don't get to hear any drama now-a-days"

"What do you mean?" I giggled, tilting my head "You argue for a living. Your job is to literally deal with drama."

"Yea, but that's complex drama," He growled, waving his hand dismissively "I wanna hear simple, schoolgirl 'he loves me, he loves me not' kind of bullshit."

"Well sorry to disappoint," I snorted, running a hand through my hair "but no, there's no one I have an eye on." Dad's smile turned into a frown.

"Shame." I heard Negan whisper. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear it. It was quiet, barely above his breath, and he said it while twirling his whiskey, following the words with a large gulp.

"You really should start looking, dear." Dad said with a sigh "You know it only gets harder as you get older."

"Dad please, I don't..." I cut him off "Listen, I appreciate you trying to understand this stuff, I really do, but I don't really want to talk about it with my father." He looked at me with an understanding smile.

"Sure," He nodded "But if you ever need anything, anything at all, you just let me know, alright." I nodded.

"Well, this sure has been fun, Ricky-boy," Negan grinned, getting to his feet and stretching his arms far above his head. "We do have that big court case in the mornin', though, and I need my shut-eye."

"Big case, eh?" I asked, rising from my seat as well. Dad nodded and excitement sparked in his eyes.

"You should come! It's an open court and I would love for you to see what I do. I know you always wanted to as a kid, but your mom made you wait until you were older. Well, now's the perfect time!" He rambled, grasping my shoulders.

"W-Well, I dunno, I don't want to be a distraction," I stumbled, taken aback by my father's display of enthusiasm. I turned to Negan, as if asking for permission. He just laughed.

"Oh-o, doll, I don't get distracted. Not in there, not anywhere. Don't you worry about a goddamn thing. You should come, Rick seems like he really wants you to."

"Okay, then," I grinned, nodding in commitment "I'll see you there in the morning then." I looked up to Negan and we locked eyes for a brief moment. But in that moment, something within me quivered. He brushed up against me and smirked down at me.

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart. It was nice to see you. You're lookin' great." It took all my willpower not to let out a whimper as he walked past me, taking his glorious scent with him.

My dad said that he should also get some rest, but that I could stay up as long as I wanted to. I was pretty wiped from my flight so I opted to follow him up the narrow staircase, tugging my bag behind me. I hugged him goodnight and stepped into my room. It hadn't been touched since I left last summer. The forest green bedspread was still perfectly tucked into the mattress and two plump pillows were perched at the head of the bed. My muscles ached for the soft release of sleep. I put my suitcase down by my dresser, taking a moment to smile at some old photos of me and Bee as kids. I showered and brushed my teeth before getting into the comfortable bed. I looked up at the ceiling and giggled softly at the glow-in-the-dark stars shining overhead. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I wasn't thinking of anything in particular, but for some reason, all of my dreams were plagued by the sweet smell, sound, sight, feeling, and taste of Negan.

[blahblahwritings]

Body of a Goddess.

A/N: A Billy Russo request with a reader who is insecure about her body! Hope you like it. 

Words: 1574.

Warnings: Swearing, Gross comments about weight, PlusSize!Reader if that even constitutes as a warning. Alcohol Mentions.

Business was booming. Patrons were buzzed, shots were being poured and music was rattling the windows. Working at the bar brought you a sense of joy, you knew the regulars, could handle trouble and the boss was more than happy to let you run things considering he owned about ten other bars and had a very nice penthouse in the city. He could care less as long as he makes his money. That wasn’t to say you and the other girls didn’t get good pay, he was rich but he wasn’t a dick.

This guy, however, was.

“Sweetheart, can you pour me and my friends another round?” He slurred, his attempt as a wink turning into an awkward blink as his eyes raked over you. Regardless, you did as he asked, filling three small glasses with a dark liquid, pushing them towards him. He caught your wrist as you went to move to the register. “I’d like to get a little something else from you after you finish too, if you wouldn’t mind.” Snatching your arm from his grip, you grimaced making your disgust evident then turned, wordlessly. “Fine, fucking fat ugly bitch.” He sneered, taking the drinks and stumbling through the crowd.

The words hurt but it wasn’t something you were new to hearing. Drunks often tried to flirt and a majority would be nice enough when you turned them down but others… others spat insults after a hit to their fragile ego. You had learned to ignore them, mostly, so you carried on with your night. Shots, cocktails, pints you name it you poured it and the rest of your shift ran smoothly.

When it got to around 3am, it began to empty and the girls started to tidy the mess. Glasses, spilled drinks, vomit, the usual. Last call was half an hour ago and you were wiping down the bar when the same guy from earlier fell forwards, barely catching himself on the counter.  “Can I have one las’ drink, darlin’?” It took you a little while to decipher what he’d asked between the southern accent that had made itself more prominent now he was trashed and the fact he couldn’t coordinate his tongue enough to form full words. Once you figured it out you simply rolled your eyes.

“I think you’ve had enough, buddy. How about I call you a ride home?” You offered despite his earlier rudeness. His eyes couldn’t even stay focussed on you, his head wobbling as if his neck couldn’t hold the weight. “Only if you’re coming back with me.” At this, you sighed, signalling Perry, the security guard to escort the guy out. “There’ll be a taxi outside in a little while.” You said, the man fighting against the fact he was being dragged away by someone twice his size as he struggled against his hold. More foul words spewed from his mouth, not unlike before until the door slammed behind him.

Another half hour passed before you were ready to close and you sent everyone on their way home, the girls and Perry included. Rolling down the shutters and locking up, you turned on your heel to begin walking to your car. It was freezing, your breath coming out in small clouds as you wrapped your jacket tighter around you. Mid-December in New York always brought two things, plenty of business and an icy chill.

Rounding the corner, you picked your keys out of your bag, unlocking the car as you got closer. Unfortunately you didn’t quite make it that far before someone hurled you into the alleyway behind the bar. You were quick to retaliate, your self-defence lessons not lost on you as you kicked the attacker, causing him to double over. This gave you the chance to stand and you stared, wild-eyed as the adrenaline kicked in. Feet shoulder-width apart, left shoulder facing opponent means a smaller target, dominant hand behind gives more momentum and power. The man didn’t stand again in a hurry, instead, a pool of vomit burst from his mouth, steam rising from it in the cold. He wiped away the leftover trail from his chin with the back of his hand before rising to his full height again. It was the same fucking guy.

You relaxed only slightly, knowing he was probably far too drunk to do much of anything. Staggering towards you, he gripped your coat at the chest and you landed a solid hit to his jaw. It made him falter for a moment before he returned the hit with a backhanded slap, sending you to your knees.

“Stupid cunt, you should’ve just let me have my way with you. I asked nicely but no, your disgusting fat ass isn’t even worth the fight.” He growled, chest heaving. He approached your position on the floor, towering over you as you tried to blink the double vision away. The pain flooded your face but you swiped his shaking legs from under him, taking the moment to sprint out the alley and down the street.

You called the only number you could think of calling in that moment and heard his sleepy voice after the first few rings.

“Babe? What's wrong, will your car not start again? I told you I’d buy yo-” You cut him off with a panicked explanation of what happened and he was on his way in seconds. You kept running, not taking the chance that the asshole would catch up to you. Tyres screeching broke you from your instinct to keep going and you whipped your head around. Relief crashed over you in waves as you recognised Billy’s car. He parked beside you so suddenly that had you been in the car you swear you would have whiplash.

Breaths came out in small ragged puffs, desperate to fill your lungs with air. You weren’t sure how far you’d ran but it was easily a few blocks. His hands found your face, concern etched into his features as he brought your eyes to meet his own. Concern turned to rage as he spotted your split lip that you hadn’t even felt in the rush to get away.

“That bastard I swear to god I’m gonna tear him apart for ever laying a finger on you.” He spat, teeth gritted. Stopping in his path as you buried your head into his chest, he wrapped his arms around you as the adrenaline faded and you began to sob. You had dealt with angry patrons verbally before but never physically, Perry always made sure of that. Billy’s chin rested on the top of your head, jaw clenching and unclenching as he tried to comfort you, anger slowly ebbing away. “Let’s get you home, c’mon, baby.” He cooed, opening the passenger side door for you.

--

Upon arriving at his place, he took your coat and brought you a cup of your favourite tea and some biscuits. You were sat on the sofa, curled up in his lap but he knew something was still off. You’d refused the sweet treats, opting just for the tea and you had tensed up as he dragged you onto his legs.

“Sweetheart, something else is bothering you, I can tell.” He whispered, tucking a stray strand of unruly hair behind your ear. His lips placed soft pecks wherever he could reach, brows furrowed as he waited for you to open up to him.

“I’m not crushing you, am I?” Your voice wavered and you couldn’t meet his eyes. You had always been a bigger girl. High School was rough for you and plenty of people still made comments about your size with their transparent concern for your health. Over the years you had learned to shrug it off, practising self-love and acceptance was the biggest fuck you to it all but there were still bad days.

Billy reeled back, not prepared for such a question, the nature of which, to him, was absurd.  “God, of course not, is that what it is? Did that guy say something to you about your weight?” He asked gently, hands moving to rest at your sides. You flinched away from his touch and that was all the answer he needed. Taking the cup from you and placing it on the coffee table, he pinched your chin so you were forced to look at him.

“You are the most beautiful woman to me, you have the body of a goddess and no I’m not exaggerating. Sculptors would have been glad to make something in your image. I adore every inch of this body, you’re soft and warm and it's exactly what I need.” He started, hands cupping the sides of your face. “Your cheeks are perfect for kissing, your arms give the best hugs, your stomach makes for a great pillow and my god you know your thighs drive me insane. There is not a part of you that I don’t love and that lowlife doesn’t deserve a second of your time if he doesn’t realise you’re the hottest, most gorgeous woman he has ever crossed paths with.” A stray tear fell from your eye at his words, a genuine smile on your face. You sniffled and he brought his lips to meet yours in a tender yet passionate kiss. His hands returned to your hips, stroking the skin underneath your shirt.

“Now, come shower with me and I’ll show you just what I think of your body.”

[jadewritings]

Love Letters To My Professor - The Day We Met

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x reader

WORD COUNT: 2k

WARNINGS: Language, dirty thoughts

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This has been in the works for a while and I'm really proud of what I have so far! But I want you all to head the warnings, things will get dark. The summary and everything may make it seem like it's all happy and innocent but I'm a sucker for angst so I'm letting you know it will be dark and there will be warnings for each chapter. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!

You sighed. It was the first day of actual college. You'd prepared so much over the break and yet, it seemed as though you weren't prepared at all. Of course, it was a bit easier now that you didn't have to worry about paying tuition fees. Your last year of high school guaranteed that with a full ride scholarship from your athletic team.

For the past 5 years you found a love for soccer. It gave you a way to release your energy and also stay healthy. You weren't a confident person by far but soccer helped with it. Switching from high school soccer to college soccer was definitely new. The game was the same but the people, the coaches, everything else.

You made your way to the first class of the day, finding it easy after a nice girl named Genevieve showed you around. It was her second year in college so she was still fairly new to the feeling of being lost and confused on such a huge campus. You showed her your schedule and she lead you to your classes. First class of the day, mythology. It wasn't a class you had to take but it was one you were interested in so you said why not and chose it as one of your extracurriculars.

The huge whiteboard at the front of the room had the words Mr. Winchester scrawled on it in cursive handwriting. Hm. Not bad. You grabbed your bag and searched for your notebook when the professor finally arrived.

"Good morning students!" His voice was loud and cheerful, like he liked what he did for a living. Even though it was the beginning of the year, all you could hear was a grumble of hello's and "sup"s from the students. Guess you were the only one who may have been excited about learning anything from this class.

"Aw come on y'all can do better than that! I'm here to make this class fun, not as boring as you think it'll be." He smiled, scanning the room, looking at the gloomy faces of his students. Until he caught your face in the crowd. Not too excited but interested enough not to seem like you didn't want to be there.

You noticed his gaze stopped on you and he stopped speaking. Your eyes widened slightly and your face began to burn as it heated up, no doubt, the blood rushing to your head. You cast your gaze down at your notebook when you heard him clear his throat and continue.

"Since it's only the first day I'll give you the syllabus for the class. I'd like you to take a look over it to get familiar with what will be going on  throughout the first semester." As he said this he walked to the left side of his desk, taking out a big stack of yellow paper. He brought it over to one side of the room and let the student take one and pass it on.

You took one when it reached you, passing it on to the next person and scanned over the black letters. The first few weeks would be notes about different creatures and a few assignments to research them.  At the end of the semester, there would be a group project and the groups had to be at least 4 or more people.

It didn't sound too bad. You actually liked taking notes especially on stuff like this. You were one of those who had different colored pens or markers for each section. Organized and easy to follow.

Your gaze returned to the professor, he was reading from the syllabus making sure everyone knew what his rules were and explains in more detail what was expected from this semester.

You weren't listening though. You were too busy scanning his body and features. His brown locks fell to his shoulders. You had a feeling he didn't want to cut his hair any shorter. You imagined what it would feel like to run your hands through it. Soft probably. He looked like he took better care of his hair than most girls you've met.

He didn't dress like most of the teachers here though. Most would be in a suit or something but he wore layers. Button up green flannel on top of a black t-shirt that gripped all the right muscles underneath and a pair of baggy jeans that fell just above his ankles. Too short the long ness of his legs. He was quite tall, he practically would tower over you.

You were mesmerized by the pale pink of his lips as he spoke. His tongue darted out along his bottom lip, giving a renewed moisture to the dryness. It made you subconsciously lick your own lips. Man what he could do with that tongue—

Wait, no Y/N! Stop that, he's your teacher! Teacher and student relationships were probably frowned upon. But who cared? You weren't underage and certainly weren't too innocent to consider it.

The bell, signaling the end of the class, caught you off guard. You scrambled to put away your notebook and shoved the syllabus inside it before you tossed it in your bag.

All of the other students were already out of the door so you were the last person in the room other than him. You were about to exit before you stopped at the sound of your name.

"Miss Y/L/N. Would you come here please? I'd like a moment to speak to you." He said, his voice was low and gruff and it sent shivers to your core.

You turned, slight fear that he would yell at you for not really listening during class. Instead, daydreaming. On the first day no less. You walked over to where he sat at his desk, playing nervously with the strap of your bag that hung on your shoulder.

"Y-Yes, Mr. Winchester?" You stuttered. You cursed yourself for being so shy like this. He was just your teacher. A very gorgeous, hunk of a teacher. But that was besides the point.

"Please, call me Sam. After all, you and I will be spending a lot more time together." He smirked and you blushed.

"W-We are?" You asked, trying to hide your face by looking at your shoes. This was very forward of him. You'd only just met why was he coming on to you so suddenly?

"Of course. You play on the soccer team. I'm the head coach." He smiles and your heart sank, a tad disappointed. But why? You'd only just met the guy. "I'm very impressed. I looked at your transcripts and saw that you got a full ride scholarship because of your work on your high school soccer team."

You looked up into his hazel eyes. There were specks of brown and green scattered around the blue. They lulled you in and you took in a sharp breath at the intensity that they held.

"Oh." You said but it was more of a release of air. "I didn't realize you were the head coach."

"Yeah. I was just about to head out to the field. We can go together since you have that next." He said, gathering his keys he'd set on his desk and stuffed his phone in his pocket.

"How do you know that's what I had next?" You eyed him suspiciously.

He turned to look at you, noticing your expression, he laughed. "I know all of my players schedules. I also keep up with their grades to make sure they are able to stay on the team. Nothing weird, I promise."

You nodded your head, suddenly embarrassed that you had practically accused him of being a stalker. Of course the coach knew his players schedules. It made sense. You'd only have mythology class and history class today but you were supposed to go set up things with the team in between before lunch.

He started out of the door and you rushed to meet up with him. His long legs took larger steps than your short ones could. He noticed your struggle to keep up and slowed his pace.

"So... you're the coach and a teacher. Anything else you might want to add to your resume?" You asked, trying to make small talk on the walk to the field.

He chuckled, "Nope. Just those two. Probably couldn't handle much more between all the practices and games and grading papers."

You nodded silently, not sure what to say next. The conversation had gone stalemate. But luckily the field wasn't too far and you already saw a group of girls crowding around what you assumed was the assistant coach.

He was just as much of a hunk as Sam was. He smiled at each of the girls, his emerald eyes sending flirtatious looks at the ones he deemed a fun time. Weird, he kind of looked like Sam. His dirty blond, almost brown hair stood in short spikes, completely different from Sam's.

His eyes landed on you just as Sam had called out to him. He looked you up and down before licking his lips. Man, what is with this guy?

"Dean, this is Y/N. She's another player on the team. Y/N, this is my brother, Dean. The assistant coach for the team." Sam introduced you.

"Ah. The full ride kid. It's a pleasure." His smile changed to a genuine one, no hint of flirty ness. His hand reached out and you took it, giving it a firm grip. Your father had once said that a firm handshake meant you meant business.

His hand held on for a lingering second. You snatched your hand away but slow enough to not seem like you were uncomfortable. He was cute, you couldn't lie. And if he wasn't your coach then you may have invited him back to your dorm but that wasn't the case. You didn't come to college to get laid, you came to get a degree and make it in the sports world. You weren't about to ruin that with a frowned upon hook up. From either of your coaches.

"Pleasures all mine." You said lowly. You turned to the group of girls. Some of them were staring. You weren't sure if it was out of envy at the attention from both the hot coaches or jealousy. You heard a shriek and then fell to the ground, someone on top of you.

The air rushed out of your lungs and you grunted hitting the ground. You looked up shocked and on edge but then you saw the familiar long brown curly locks of hair and brown eyes. Genevieve.

"Damn girl. I didn't realize you were on the team." You huffed out as she stood and held a hand out to help you up.

She smirked, "You never asked."

You both chuckled, "This just means we get to spend more time together." She stated matter of factly.

A clear of their throat turned your attention back to your two coaches. Shock evident in their expressions but it quickly turned to getting down to business.

You and Gen walked over to the rest of the girls and waiting for them to speak.

Sam spoke first, "Alright ladies. Today we are just going to get to know each other and get uniforms situated, along with lockers and such. This is going to be a wild season and I have a feeling we'll do the best we can."

You didn't know how good the other girls were but one thing was for sure, you were going to work your ass off to be the best.

-Part 2-

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[missdilucesco]

Not Yet

Art by @venranae

Word count: 2.7k

Based on my head cannon that Shigaraki gets way too sensitive after his orgasm.

My immesurable thanks to @peppermint-tea-and-chill for editing it, you are the sweetest person ever and I problaby would never post it without your help.

Warnings: Light bondage, overstimulation and toture post-orgasm.

“Okay, this is getting stupid,” Shigaraki grunted from beneath you. “I’m not putting this thing on.”

You weren’t surprised by his complaints. To be honest, he was much more compliant than first expected. When you had first shown him the ropes, his ragged mouth opened only to degrade you, calling you a dirty pervert yet never resisting as his hands and legs were tied on the sides of the bed. However, the sight of the collar gave him second thoughts. It was just a simple black leather strip with metal attachments, but damn it would look good on him. His face held a shadow of worry, his lips pressed together almost in a little pout and a blush spread over the pale skin of his face and thin neck. It was cute how nervous he looked in his tipsy state.

“But the bet was that the loser would be the winner’s slave for the rest of the night. This is what I want for the night” You shook the black collar, a light jingling noise filling the air. “Are you going back on your word?”

Shigaraki settling instead for a fixed stare as if he were angry enough to seriously considering to kill you or not. Perhaps it was the alcohol in your system, but the murderous gaze hardly bothered you. Being the dangerous and wicked man he was, Shigaraki could end you at a moment’s notice, ropes or not. You knew your boyfriend wasn’t the type to do things he didn’t want to do. If he was naked and tied to a bed with someone sitting on him, it was just another one of his many kinks and exactly where he wanted to be.

“Are you going to disappoint me…” You leaned over his skinny body, touching your naked chests together. You playfully nipped his earlobe and finished in a breathy whisper, “…Or are you going to be a good boy?”  

“You can go to hell if you think I’ll ever put that on,” he snorted. This was obviously his attempt to intimidate you and take back control of the situation. “So why don’t you at least put that ass to use and ride my cock or untie me?”  

Predictable. He was such a brat all the time. There was no way Shigaraki would be any different in bed, even if he was drunk. He had too much pride to give in so easily and being vulnerable was never a choice to him. If you wanted to be the dominant in the room, you needed to get him to understand that you hold the reins now and he has no say anymore. Feeling excitement growing in your loins, you put the collar aside and his eyes gleamed in victory. That wouldn’t last long.

“You know,” you drawled, hands traveling slowly up his naked chest, raising goosebumps on his arms and finally stopping to firmly encircle his throat. A grin splintered across Shigaraki’s face. He smiled thinking that this was your attempt to choke him, like you were merely a kitten trying to use your tiny claws. “It’s kinda cute how you think you can boss me around while tied down like a fucking whore”. You leaned forward with every word, using the weight of your body to apply more pressure to his neck. Shigaraki released a scratchy puff of air in alarm. You really were choking him.

Instantly, the muscular chords in his neck flex under your hands as he got more agitated, trying to break free from your fierce grasp to breathe. It was difficult to hold the strong son of a bitch down, but he was such a sight like that; his eyes filling with reflexive tears, his snarling mouth trying in vain to suck in any air, his head pushing away from you and into the mattress and his face getting redder with each passing second. For a moment, his raising pulse and warmth under your hands made you feel so powerful, like you could break him at any moment.  You allowed yourself to fully bask in the power you had. It was as if he was such a little plaything and the air in his lungs was a gift, and you decided he didn’t deserve it right now.  

“You are my pet and I will do as I please. If I want to put you in a collar and slap that pretty face, I will. If I want to bite you and draw blood, I will. Now stop being a brat and behave like the fucking boytoy you are” Your confident and demanding tone surprised even yourself. His cock twitched a few times under your ass, aroused at your degradation.

Loosing up your grip a little so you could better hear one of his animalistic moans, you began to grind on him to create the friction he desperately needed. An ache thrummed up your arms from the effort of keeping a consistent pressure on Shigaraki’s throat, but it was all worth to see his eyes rolling to the back of his skull and his agape mouth twitch into a smile that in anyone else’s eyes would be considered creepy. You felt a tremor of excitement. “What? You like this? Tomura, you’re a bigger slut than I imagined.”  

Your heartbeat was running wild, beyond thrilled to finally be doing something you’ve always wanted to. Everything about his lewd reactions was too beautiful to stop now. You aggressively slammed your lips to his dry ones, swallowing his moans while never stopping the movement of your hips. This went on for a time before you decided maybe he deserved to breathe again. Pulling from the kiss, you slowly released him. Shigaraki coughed raggedly and sucked the air as a desperate dying man “Now, back to where we stopped earlier…”  

With heaving breaths, he watched as you put the collar around his sore neck, red eyes burning deeply in yours.  

“Color?” You asked, starting to genuinely worry that you had hurt him.

“Green.” He laughed dryly at your worried face.  

“Good.” Smiling as well, you sweetly caress his face. Your fingertips tracing a path from his cheek to his neck, feeling up the scars and rough patches. God, the contrast of the black leather on his neck was gorgeous. The pair of you locked eyes as you tugged his collar, smiling at the thought of making him wear a cockring next time.  

You kissed and licked around Shigaraki’s sensitive jaw line, making him shiver and yelp as your teeth sank in his flesh, coloring him with bites and hickeys, only slowing to a stop when his whole neck and chest were marked in hues of red and bite marks.  

“I… love your pretty collarbones,” you said, kissing them, “and I love to mark you… so there’s no doubt about who you belong to.”

Your words of possessiveness seemed to excite Shigaraki further, causing him to shove his hips upwards sharply, desperately trying to get  inside of you. You both gasped when the tip of his hard member slipped in.

“Ride me,” he demanded. The poor thing couldn’t go deeper on his own.

Your muscles coiled at how hard it was to resist that.

“If you want something, you have to ask for it.” Your voice may not have been as strong anymore, but you weren’t about to give up your upper hand. “Politely.”

Supporting yourself with your hands on his chest, you wiggled your hips to tease him. Shigaraki tried once again to thrust into you, but you moved away before he could, effectively making him lose his patience.  

“Goddamnit, just fucking take it!”

“Just fucking ask, then.”

You sounded way more relaxed than you really were; you wanted to impale yourself on his cock so badly… but you wanted him to beg for it more.

“Fuck it- Please, ride me. Are you happy now?”

“No bad words. Try again.”

“Fuck you!”

Denying your own pleasure, you moved your pulsing hole away from him. He didn’t spare any curse as your warmth left him. Maybe you have been spoiling him through the relationship.

“Oh, come on, don’t be a bitch about it,” his voice was aloof, but his eyes burned in need. “Just do it.”

“Not until you exercise some manners.”

“I’m not-” You interrupted him the man with a slap, just strong enough to stun him.

He may have still been grinning slightly, but you didn’t miss the way his eyebrows pulled down together. Shigaraki tried to break away from the ropes, but his fingertips couldn’t reach them.

“When I get out, you’ll be so fucked.”

You slapped him again. His breathing got heavy again and the previously smiling lips were now pulled between his teeth, almost successfully hiding a moan of excitement.  

“So lewd. Makes me want to keep slapping you. And that’s what you want, I can see it on your face. Are you being a brat on purpose to make me punish you?”  

Not waiting for a reply, you traced your fingers in the little red mark you made. You loved to have his face in your hands, especially now with him whining in such a cute way.

“Open,” you said, pressing your fingers past his lips.

He sucked and licked your fingers as you pushed them into his mouth, touching the inside of his check, teeth and deep down his throat to stimulate his gag reflex. “The palm now.” As you pull your fingers out, a line of saliva connected both of you, and obediently he licked. Satisfied with his work, you changed hands and made him repeat the process.  

“Ok, now we can start.”  

You changed your position, siting now on his stomach with you back turned to him.

“Are you going to give me a handjob? I wanna see it, turn this way.”  

You ignored the comment, not wanting to spoil him more than you already had. Luckily, he stopped when your wet hands touch his stiff manhood. One hand worked in his length and the other made circles on the dripping head with your palm, making sure he had grown to full size. The only sounds in the room coming from the wetness in your hands and his deep, low groans.  

“If you want to cum you have to ask first, remember that.”  

Even without a clear answer, besides an annoyed little grunt that you took as a yes, you increased the speed of your hands. The muscles of his thighs strained, and underneath your ass you felt his stomach contract in a heavy moan.

You decided to change the pattern, using one hand to hold the base tightly as the other masturbated him. With your hands getting dry, you spit on his head and heard a soft gasp.  

“So filthy. You like to get spit on, too?” Never stopping your hands, you do it a couple more times making him whine and twitch again and again.  

Tomura would never allow himself to be seen like this, so vulnerable and submissive. To see that side of him made you forget you were still untouched. You kept a steady speed until you noticed his nearly animalistic grunts and hips thrusts; he was getting close to his release. Normally he would last so much longer, be tied down and treated like a whore must have really excited him.  

“Remember to ask before-”  

“Fuck, I wanna cum.”  

“Not yet.” You smiled, finally down to your play

“I’m… I’m going to…”  

“Not yet,” you repeated more sternly, reducing your stroking speed to merely a feather-light touch and an unbearable snail’s pace.  

Your slow movement made his body tremble violently as he shamelessly threw his head back and cried your name, as if asking for mercy.  

“Oh fuck, fuck. No, don’t stop, keep going!” He shouted, shaking from the lack of stimulation, only to be ignored.  

Shigaraki started to fuck your hands to steal back the denied friction. It was a good thing your back was turned to him. This way he couldn’t see the smile in your face. Nearly dropping his cock, you hold him only with your index finger and thumb, receiving his curses and desperate cries in return.  

“Say ‘please’~”  

“Fucking please, don’t stop now.” He pleaded between clenched teeth.  

Gripping him with your full hand now, you spit again, opting for forceful moves rather than fast ones.  

“Go faster!”  

“This attitude will get you nowhere. You know what I want.”  

“I…” He stopped to calm his breath and think. “Please go faster, I need to cum.” 

Satisfied, you did as he wanted. By how much he cursed and moved under you, it was obvious that the only thing stopping this level of frustrated Shigaraki from holding you down and fucking you into oblivion were the ropes. Unbelievable that you had to tie the bastard down to give a decent handjob without him using you as a fleshlight.  

“Hold it a little longer, Tomura.”  

“No, fuck, I can’t hold it anymore-”  

“You can. I know you can. Be a good boy for me.”  

“Shit, I-I’ve been good…”

“So that was ‘good’?” You laughed at his blatant lie.

“I had enough, please… it hurts.” He called your name in a broken voice “Just let me cum- Fuck it, yellow!”  

Yellow, hm?  

“Hold it for ten second more seconds. One, two…” You started to count.

He let out a pitched whine in frustration and you could swear that you heard a single, brief sob. “Please, I can’t hold, please let me cum.”

“You talking to me will only extend the countdown. Three, four, five…”

But Shigaraki reached his orgasm in your hand anyway, cursing and crying that he was sorry and just couldn’t do it. His orgasm was so hard that he shook the mattress and released enough cum to leave a wet stain the bed. But he hasn’t going to enjoy it for too long, after all he disobeyed you.  

Without stopping the motion of your hands, you used his cum as lube to stroke the head of his pulsing and half-hard cock. Soon he stopped to groan in relief and busted into laughter.  

“What?! What you doing? Sto- Ahahahaha"  

“You failed.”  

“Too sensitive!” He managed to say.  

He was so sensitive that your strokes felt like tickles.  

“Your laugh is so cute, Tomura.” you said. His twisted euphoria under your torture was contagious. You started laughing, too. “Come on, apologize.”  

It was hard trying to hold your position over Shigaraki when he writhed so roughly to get you off, begging you to stop. “I’m- Ahhhahaha! I’m so-” he gasped out between heaving laughs.

“You’re what?”  

“Sorry! I’m sorry! Stop!”  

But you didn’t.  

“You’ve been a brat all night. You need to just accept your punishment.”

“Just… Ahaha- Just stop for a second!”

You were decided to torture him breathless for a whole extra minute but he reached his limit before that.  

“Red, red, fucking red!” He finally cried. He endured more than you expected.

Obeying his safe word, you stopped. Sitting on the bed at Tomura’s side, you turned to face him. The poor boy was still cracking a laugh from time to time and trying to breathe properly.  

“Are you all right?” you asked gently. The little noise from his throat was enough to confirm. “I’m untying you.”  

The ropes left marks in his wrists and ankles. Trying to relieve any discomfort, you massaged them a little, kissing and blowing gently. “That was great, you did really good, Tomura”, you murmured, rubbing his wrists.

He made no motion to remove the collar, however, and it looked cute. No harm in leaving it on a little longer then. After he calmed down, his lanky arm pulled you close, wanting to cuddle. Relenting, you lied beside him and embraced his warm body. Tomura had a blissful smile on in his flushed face and, doing the best you could, you tenderly wiped the tears and drool away. Brushing his sticky bangs to the side, you kissed his sweaty forehead.

“Was I too mean?” You asked and tried to pet his hair in a soothing manner, but it was too tangled… It would take you so much time to brush all of that mess.  

He moaned lowly, hiding his face in your neck.

“Hmm, you worry too much.” Shigaraki sounded so relaxed as you gently scratched up and down his back. “It was alright.”  

And within a minute, he was sleeping soundly. You kissed him again, feeling his soft breath in the curve of your neck.

Taglist: @peridoch @hotforhandman

[nctwd127]

Arranged Marriage.

Chapter Four.

Word Count: 3772

Warning: Mention of miscarriage and physical abuse. A fight scene as well. 

Doyoung and I were harshly awakened from our blissful sleep, wrapped in each other’s embrace, by the sound of harsh banging coming from his front door. “Make it go away.” I whined into his chest. He let out a small chuckle, “Let me get up and see who it is.”

Groaning I moved away from him, burying my face into the warm pillow. Looking at him as he put on his boxers and left the room. I reached over for my phone, reading the time, 10:30pm. Who in their right mind was banging on the door at this hour?

My question was soon answered as I heard yelling coming from outside. “Where is she?” someone yelled. I soon realized that voice belonged to Yuta. “Get out of my house now.” Doyoung’s voice was loud and clear.

My heart raced, I couldn’t go out there because it would make things worse. But if I didn’t, then who knows what could happen. “I asked a fucking question. Where is she?” Yuta yelled again. Oh no.

Rushing, I threw on one of Doyoung’s shirts and my undies before running outside of the room. The air become undeniably thick and heavy as I stepped into the living room. Swallowing the lump that was growing in my throat, I walked over to Doyoung and stood behind him.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Yuta mumbled under his breath, holding the bridge of his nose. “Get changed. You’re leaving with me, right now.” He ordered at me.  

Doyoung laughed sarcastically as he looked at Yuta square in the eyes. “She’s not going anywhere with you. She belongs with me.” He spoke so firmly, goosebumps rose on my skin hearing his words. Yuta’s eyes grew as dark as a black hole as he looked at us.

“I suggest you make yourself scarce bunny boy and leave my bride to be, with me, the person she actually belongs with now.”

Doyoung visibly tensed at his words feeling like they plunged right into his heart. I wrapped my arms around his bare chest fearing he was going to lunge at him any moment. “Doyoung, don’t.” I whispered to him.

Yuta stood before us smirking, satisfied he got under Doyoung’s skin. As I watched him, I saw the way his eyes fell on the ring that rested on my left hand. His smirk dropped and he locked eyes with me immediately.

I spoke first before he could say anything about the ring, “Yuta leave. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Yuta looked at the ring once more before turning to leave, slamming the door shut after him. The noise echoing made me flinch. Doyoung turned around and held my face scanning it before he asked, “Are you okay?” I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding in and nodded. “Are you okay?”

“You’re here, so I’m prefect.” He flashed me his gummy smile that made my heart melt. “You’re so cheesy.” I teased. “Come on, let’s go back to bed.” He grabbed my hand and led me back to his room.

We laid in bed, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the air thick and heavy. My heart started to ache knowing this had to happen now. We couldn’t put it off for much longer. But neither of us wanted to speak first, scared that we wouldn’t be able to make the words come out.

He held my hand a little tighter as he sighed, bringing it up to his lips as he placed a kiss on my knuckles. I didn’t want to look up at him, knowing that if I did, I would start to cry, again. Things weren’t supposed to be like this for us.

My parents loved him, they adored him and wanted him to be with me. They had said it so many times, not just to me but to him as well. They did nothing but support us. They had spent holidays at his house accompanied with his parents as well. But all of that was fake, every compliment and wishes of everlasting love meant nothing, knowing they were never going to come true.

It was a day soon after we had celebrated our first year, and we were in Doyoung’s kitchen, baking something together like we had countless times. And as I was mixing the batter, I had looked over at him, whipping the frosting. Something about the look on his face, so focused and determined, told me that he was going to be the man I was going to marry.

The moment seemed to have lasted forever, that someday I was going to walk down the aisle with him waiting for me. Someday he was going to be my husband and I couldn’t wait for the moment that I called him that for the first time.

Now that moment will never come.

“I don’t know what I’ll do without you.” He confessed. Tears grew in my eyes. “I have loved you for so many years, I thought of a future with you. To marry you, start a family, own my bakery with you helping out.” He continued, a small sob escaping his lips.

I looked up at him, seeing his tears fall. I wiped them away, there was nothing I could say to make this better because nothing could. “Now you’re going to go off and marry someone else and live the future we wanted.”

“No, no I am not. I am not building anything with him, especially not a family. I want the father of my kids to be you and only you. If not then I won’t have kids, period.  I don’t want Yuta, I never have and I never will.” I assured.

Knowing deep in my heart it was a lie. At some point in time we made promises like that too. We were kids, teenagers, most of the time they mean nothing. But I knew that Yuta and I meant every single one of them. I carried each one with me till this day, burned into my soul.    

Small sobs were the only sound that bounced off the walls of his bedroom. Each one filled with more sorrow than the last. Our hearts ached, feeling devastated with sign of relieve anytime soon.  

“Stay with me forever.”

“Forever.”

The following morning, we got ready and dressed for our classes. Nothing was being said between us, just gloomy smiles and too many feelings to process. Once we were done, we just looked at each other. “You’re not going to cover your neck?” He mused caressing my neck where his artwork laid beautifully.

“Nope, I want everyone to know who I will always belong too.” I replied looking at his, knowing he didn’t cover his for the same reason.

We both took in a deep breath, knowing this was it. This is where we needed to part ways. I wasn’t ready to take the ring off, afraid that maybe I never will be. So there it was on my finger. “You sure I can’t convince you to stay with me, the boys and I can always find something else to do.” He suggested.

They were ready to throw away their futures for me, for all of us because that’s how tight our bond was. But they will later come to regret it, they loved nothing more than what they did now. They would learn to hate me later on and I couldn’t bear the thought of that.  

“No, I won’t let them mess with your future too.” Even though they already were.

“So then, this is where it ends…” The hurt and brokenness in his voice was almost too much to bare. “I guess it is… I wholeheartedly wish it wasn’t.” I would have done anything and everything for this not to happen.

Doyoung took my face in his hands and looked at me, almost as if to scan my every feature into his brain, knowing that today would be the last time he would look at me this close.  

“I love you Kim (Y/N), then, now and always. No matter what. And if you ever decide to change your mind, know you can always come back to me. There is no one I want in this world more than you.” He spoke softly before bringing his lips to mine. This kiss was bittersweet, full of love and also heartbreak.

The ride to campus was quiet and peaceful. We decided to drive together in my car and he would just get a ride back home from one of the boys. I was in no mood to drive so he offered too. The drive felt shorter than usual as he pulled up into our usual place.

Hendery and Ten stood there in front of their own cars, waiting for us. Doyoung and I looked each other before we got out, “This is it.”

The words hung in the air for a bit after I spoke them. He gave me a small smile, “It’s going to be okay. Come on, we have to talk to them.” He sighed as he gave my hand a small squeeze. Blinking away my tears, I agreed.

“Hey guys, how are you holding up?” Ten questioned bringing us into a hug, along with Hendery. “I can’t believe you guys knew he was going to propose and didn’t tell me anything, I thought you were my friends too.” I joked pulling away from the hug, trying to make the atmosphere even a little bit bearable.

Hendery and Ten looked so utterly confused. “You proposed?!” Hendery exclaimed, not believing what I had said. “And you said yes?”  

They took hold of my left hand and gasped when they saw the ring. Doyoung and I genuinely laughed at their reactions. “Okay, what the hell is going on?” Ten mumbled. “As far as we were concerned, there were different plans thrown at you?” They started to look a little hopeful and that put the weight of the world on my shoulders.

“Unfortunately the case remains the same. The love of my life will still marry that good for nothing bastard, who by the way, showed up at my house last night.” Doyoung answered, the bitter tone not going unnoticed by any of us at all. Watching their faces drop and the light in their eyes leave, is going to be something I will always remember. “Yeah, that’s that.” I sighed.

“I hate to be that person but … what’s going to happen between us four? Now that you guys aren’t together, are we parting ways? Are we choosing sides? Are we going with you? With you?” Hendery seemed a little frantic. Up until now, I don’t think any of us really thought about that.

“Nothing is going to happen between us. The four of us will still be the four of us. We are staying together. It’ll just be like old times, before we started dating. If of course, Doyoung wants that...” I suggested.

It felt awkward and ridiculous suggesting something as naive as that, as if we remembered what old times were like. We did spend a year and half as just friends but even then, we acted like more. We have always been more.

He forced a smile on his lips and looked at me, “Of course, nothing has to change between us, any of us. We are all still the same.”

We all shared a hug again and parted ways to reach our own classes.

This is the start of a new chapter in my life. One I didn’t want, one my parents are forcing me to have. I’m sure if they knew everything that happened between Yuta and me, they wouldn’t force this on us, on me. But the chances of me sharing that part of my life with them, was damn near impossible.

Walking into class, right away I locked eyes with Yuta. The cold and dark look still remained in his eyes, as if I could care at all about the way he felt. He didn’t object to this and of course he wouldn’t. Yuta wanted nothing more than to have the company, clearly no matter how he got it.

He sat where he did two days ago, so I sat in the front, feeling his heavy gaze burn a hole into my head.

Buzz!

I looked at my phone to see that it was a text from the devil. I ignored it, I had nothing to say to him now or ever.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

Three more texts came in from him. I spun in my chair and looked at him. As I did, I showed him how I turned off my phone, not interested in anything he had to say. With an eye roll, I turned around and faced the board, just as the teacher walked in.

Throughout class, I felt his gaze on me. It was easier to ignore today. I wasn’t paying attention at all during the lecture, I just sat there looking at the ring. Soon it would be replaced by another one that will hold no meaning or value whatsoever.

Yuta didn’t try to talk to me after the lecture ended, considering how I bolted out of the class, but nonetheless I was thankful he didn’t chase me down either.

Soon, it was time for lunch. Assuming we’d meet at the café, I walked out to my car. On my way to the car though, I ran into Yuta and his little crew. I tried hard to walk past them but of course that was impossible.

“Where you going love?” Yuta mocked me wrapping his arm around my waist, as his friends watched amused. “Let me go.” I hissed, trying to remove his hand but his fingers dug deeper into my skin.

“Oh Yuta, we didn’t know you already hit it.” Jaehyun chuckled looking at my neck.

“All four of you can fuck off. Yuta I am serious let me go now.” I demanded struggling still. “Ah you see, those marks aren’t mine. They belong to the pathetic excuse of a boyfriend she had, right?” He tried to confirm, looking into my eyes.

“I wasn’t so pathetic last night when she was screaming my name.”

We both turned to see Doyoung and the boys behind us. Doyoung looked just as furious as Hendery and Ten.

“Ah look who showed up boys, the three little musketeers.” Yuta announced to his friends. He turned to me and smirked, holding my waist with both his hands now. “You know Doyoung, now that she’s my fiancé, I can do this.” He spoke to Doyoung but his eyes never left mine as he leaned in.

Our lips met and a flashback came back rushing to me. I was left paralyzed.

“Ms. (L/N), how are you feeling?” The doctor asked as he looked over my chart. I had just woken up from the accident, my mind groggy trying to piece together what happened. One moment we were fine and then I wake up in a hospital bed with all these machines hooked up to me.

“I feel fine, just a little sore.” I answered, then the realization hit me. “Yuta. Where is Yuta doctor?” I asked worried and shaken up.

“He is well, he’s recovering. He has a small concussion but nothing to be worried about. His parents are with him right now. Yours are on the way.” He informed but he had a sadden expression on his face when he looked over at me.

“What is it doctor? Is something wrong with me?” I questioned feeling anxious. “The accident, it put a lot of stress on your body.” He started. I looked at him blankly, not understanding where he was getting at because I felt perfectly fine.

“I’m sorry Ms. (L/N) but there’s no easy way of saying this.” He paused, I took a deep breath preparing for the worst.

“You lost the baby.”

~Yuta felt something he hadn’t before, it felt like his brain tickled for a second when their lips met. ~

Before I could even process anything that was happening, Yuta was being ripped off me and thrown to the ground by Doyoung. “Don’t you ever in your fucking life touch her again Nakamoto!” Doyoung screamed as he straddled Yuta’s waist and threw punches at his face, drawing blood from his lips.

They wrestled around on the ground fist flying around, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing around in my brain as I stood frozen. Yuta managed to get on top and threw hard blows to Doyoung’s face making his head hit the concrete every time, drawing blood from his nose and lip. Everything was moved in slow motion for me.

All the five boys who stood around reacted and separated them but it was too late. Doyoung laid on the floor unconscious with a bloody face. The circle that had formed has disbursed and it was just us now. When my body snapped back to action, I ran to Doyoung’s side. Teary eyed, I held his face before Hendery and Ten pulled me away so they could pick him up carefully.

Yuta stood behind us with Sicheng and Jaehyun holding him back. He was furious looking at me as I worried over Doyoung.

“Let’s take him to my car, I’ll take him home.” I instructed. We walked over to my car and they put him in the back seat. “You sure you can get him out on your own?” Hendery asked, closing the back door, where the love of my life laid.

“No but I’ll manage. I call you guys later.” I hugged them goodbye and got into my car, driving away from them, from Yuta, from everyone.  

My mind kept drifting to the flashback I had gotten when Yuta kissed me. It felt like eternity has passed since the last time I thought about that day. I tried so hard for years to forget about it. It was the most heartbroken I had ever been. I was forced to go through it alone because Yuta couldn’t remember me, not the way I remembered him.

No one knew about us. It was just him and me. And then the accident happened and our memories were erased from him. Then it was just me who knew.

I lost two things that day and one of them, I didn’t even know existed.

I pulled up outside of Doyoung’s house and got out the car. I stopped when I saw Yuta’s car pull up behind me. He looked enraged to his core, blood drying at the corner of his lip, a busted lip and purples and blues were painted under his left eye, he looked almost scary.

My eyes welled up with tears at the sight of him. Seeing him right now was torture as my heart was going through that terrible memory again.

“Go away Yuta.” I firmly said despite feeling like I was going to break down any moment now. I started opening the back door to get Doyoung out, who was still unconscious. He didn’t weigh much but right now he was too heavy for me carry on my own, I wished I hadn’t rejected the guys help. Yuta groaned behind me and pulled me away from the car before he went to get Doyoung out of the car.

In silence, we walked up to the door and I pulled out my keys to open the door. “You have the key to his house?” Yuta wondered walking in, Doyoung being held up by his body. I didn’t answer and just showed him the way to the bedroom. Once inside, Yuta laid him on the bed. I left to get a wet rag to clean him up a little.

“You can leave now. I don’t want you here and he especially wouldn’t want you in his house.” I snapped at Yuta once I walked back into the room, noticing he was still here looking around the floor seeing our clothes scattered from last night. He took a heavy breath to calm himself before he looked at me. Eyes still as dark and cold as they could ever be. “We need to talk.”

“There is absolutely nothing you and I need to talk about. I want you to get out.” I demanded as I walked over to my unconscious boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, and started cleaning the drying blood at the coroner of his lip.

“It wasn’t a fucking option (Y/N).” Yuta stated yanking me up by the arm and took me to living room. “What the hell is the matter with you? Let me go you fucking asshole. You’re hurting me.” I shouted as I hit his hand to let me go.

“What do you think you’re doing, walking around with a fucking ring on your finger that doesn’t belong to me? Walking around showing off your hickeys like some kind of fucking whore. Walking around like you don’t belong to me now?” He questioned me, the pure raw anger in his tone made me flinch in his grip.

I have never seen Yuta like this. But the frustration of everything that was going on right now clouded my mind in fury.

“You think you’re some big shot, don’t you Yuta? You think you can own me just because our parents forced this stupid marriage on us?! Well no! At the end of the fucking day, I belong to one man! And that is Kim Doyoung. Someone you will never be!” I answered back, my voice raised.

His grip on my arm tightened more, there was sure to be a bruise in the shape of his hand there tomorrow. He laughed before he spoke. “Believe me princess, I’m not happy about this marriage either but I am not losing a company I have put a lot of work into because of you. And don’t kid yourself, you wish Doyoung was at least half the man I am.” He retorted.  

“Doyoung has always and will always be so much more than then pathetic excuse of man you call yourself Nakamoto.”

Smack!  

The sound of the slap echoed in the living room. It didn’t register in my head what just happened as the sting took over my right cheek, tears forming on my waterline. Heat radiated off cheek as I brought my hand up to hold it.

“I want you back in your home tonight (Y/N). I’ll come back here and drag you there kicking and screaming if I have too.” He warned me.

I watched him slam the door shut as he left.  

Masterlist

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

13. A Shot in the Dark Part 1

Part One of the "Prologue" chapter.

This could have all been prevented. Had they just not brought it here. This could have gone smoothly. This could have succeeded, but instead of being on one accord and being on the same page, they had all taken various pages out of Simon Laurent’s book. 

“Do you think she’s dead?” Jalicia asked. “I heard at least 6 shots… you think he put them all into her?”

“Shut up, 227,” Sunny said.

“Oh, I’m 227 right now? We’re still on Date Night? Grace just got shot…” Sunny grabbed Jalicia by the collar and the younger one laughed a little bit. “You still tryin’ to be Grace when Grace isn’t here? Because, that’ll be a long ride, considering that she’s dead now.”

“I said shut up. Xan. Pull over.”

“That’s not protocol,” he said. 

“No, it isn’t. But, we were outside, and it wasn’t his home, so one of two things have happened, either he left her there to die, or someone has called for help. Either way, this is a different circumstance.”

“She wouldn’t want us to risk the operation for her.”

“NOW, you care about that? You didn’t care about that when you tried to make Simon an X, BEHIND her back!”

“That was the ONLY thing I cared about!” He hissed at Sunny. “And did I work alone? Was it ME that made her stop trusting her fucking team?”

Now, she grabbed his collar and he swerved the van. “Pull the motherfucking van over!” She growled. He obeyed. They switched seats and she circled back to where Grace had been shot. As suspected, there were police lights, an ambulance, the firetruck. The usual. She tried to pass by slowly and try to see. She couldn’t see Grace, but she did see a covering over an obviously dead body. Xander and Jalicia must have seen it when she did, because he yelped and Jalicia burst into tears. The workers were waving the van along, so she sped up only slightly, to not draw too much attention. Then, she saw him, standing with the police, talking… Simon.

Her breath hitched and she blinked away tears as she continued driving. Neither Xander nor Jalicia mentioned him, so she presumed that they hadn’t seen him. But she had. Now, it was time to regroup.

.

“Yoga and Meditation for Seasonal Depression with Sunny!” the community center board read when Simon stepped into the building with his mat and bag. She had been there for a while. He knew that, because he had too, only from the outside. She had a head full of faux locs that he hadn’t seen her sporting prior to whenever she made him think that she was Grace a few nights before. She saw him the moment he walked into the gym, but her expression was unreadable. He enjoyed that, to a certain degree. He did like that he didn’t have to feel as tense around her as Jalicia or Xander, but he had a feeling that he couldn’t be as relaxed around her as he was around Alexandria, and her little warning that night made him even more weary about the casual smile that she had on now. She was maybe like him… and he knew that he was nothing to toy around with, and would pay her the same reverence, until he understood her better. 

“Hi. I’ve never seen you in the community center before,” She said. She extended her hand, “Sunny.”

“Yeah, the sign says so,” he said, taking her hand and shaking it. They both held tight and shook firm, staring each other down, either trying to outshake or outsmile the other. And in a moment, they made the simultaneous decision to end both. “Is it okay that I’m not a regular? The post and fliers didn’t mention that it was a closed class.”

“It’s open. But, if it gets full and I see regulars…”

“I know my place,” he said. They both smiled again. 

“Well then, find yourself a spot on the floor. Looks like you’ve come prepared. Have you done this before?”

“No. But, I once tried capoeira at a country club.” She frowned. “I’m going to presume that look is because it’s an art form created by enslaved Africans. Trust me, I’ve gotten that speech already.” 

She rolled her eyes and pointed towards the door. “I’ve got other guests to greet. See you later, Monison?”

“What? Simon.”

“Right. If I forget again, I can always go with Surveillance Soccer Mom.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t?”

“Your preference is… noted.” She cheerily went to greet the people coming in, who she seemed to know, because she hugged them and talked animatedly with them. It was different than how she’d handled him and reminded him again of Grace, and the way that she had a certain obligatory politeness that seemed to be taught and structured and perfected… Sunny had that too, only she was using what he’d called Grace’s “customer service manners” with  him, and the more natural pleasantries with the other people there. He wondered if she had made that choice on purpose, or if it was just a side effect of her not trusting him? At any rate, he noted that she didn’t immediately reach for her phone to alert Xander, the way that Jalicia had whenever she’d seen him enter her space. In fact, she hadn’t done so, even by the end of the class.

She wished several of them well, gave some info on upcoming things, and other warm and gentle dealings, until it was only she and Simon left in the room. Still, he noted, she didn’t get onto her phone. In fact, she seemed to be waiting for him after she packed up all of her things. He knew that she didn’t have to lock up, so he wondered why. She offered no insight. Just stared at him, with all of her things packed away and her bags on her shoulders. Still, no phone. 

Simon collected his things and went up to her, hoping that he could gain something from whatever their exchange was about to be. “I… you know who I am, right?” he asked. She threw her head back and cackled to the skies, echoing off of the gym walls until they were out in the cold of the air and her lungs felt the repercussions. “I now regret asking that.”

“I know who you are. That lackluster writer that has risen to popularity only because you’re in a package that can be rewarded for mediocrity. Timonthy Something.”

“Did you say Timonthy? TiMONthy?”

“I’d call you “Tim,” for short, but that’s one of my favorite characters from The Magnus Archives, and I don’t wanna blend that world with the one you’re a part of. Maybe I’ll say “Mon.”

He chuckled and put on ear muffs. “You seem really chill about me being here, is all. I thought that maybe you didn’t realize. The others are a little bit different about me.”

“Meh. Maybe if I was there, I’d feel differently. It isn’t like I’m not empathetic. I really am, and if the others feel threatened or anxious, I would never discount that for them, but I also have no firsthand experience with you that has given me any reason to personally hate or fear you and I don’t like to say it out loud too much, as it makes space for my loved ones to get really offended and upset, but the people who were there for whatever it is you supposedly did - I’m hesitant to take what they say at face value, because they can be very close minded. Grace isn’t trippin,’ so maybe they are.”

“Then, why did you threaten me?”

“If you read it as a threat, I can’t change that, but it does help to mold my opinion of you and what you’ve been doing to my good sis…”

He frowned and looked at the ground. “Well… when you put it that way, I guess it wasn’t threatening. I’m not a harm to her. I never have been. I don’t think that I could hurt her if I tried. She grew up on the streets. I was in one fist fight when I was 13, and it was mostly me just getting the shit kicked out of me and trying to shield myself.”

She laughed again, “I’ve been told you have that effect on people. What’d you do to get your ass kicked?” 

“I told people that I had a crush on a boy.” She immediately stopped laughing and felt bad. He shrugged his shoulders, “It got me sympathy points and my first boyfriend, so I can’t be too mad.”

“You can, if you choose to, but if you choose not to, I support that. It’s up to you.”

He looked at her and she seemed genuine. She seemed nice, despite him knowing that she was definitely on a murder team. “Okay, so if you’re not threatened or whatever the others are, why’d you come after me?”

“I didn’t come after you. If I had come after you, you’d be in the Field of Nulls. I gave you a chance to be free from that kind of destiny. It is never pretty. Never painless. Never without every bit of suffering that can be provided, and the death is slow and potentially terrifying. It’s death sentences that only the worst kind of scum gets to endure… You seem like high level scum. Just because you have poor impulse control, bad judgment in romance and a passionate death wish doesn’t mean you deserve what we do to people. And Grace shouldn’t have to worry about you, either.”

“The Field of Nulls,” Simon repeated.

“I think you know what that is.” She wasn’t smiling. In fact, she was staring at him with a threatening expression. “Personally, I’d have called it the Wormfood Wonderland. So far, only the Apex and the nulls know what it is. And you know what we do with the nulls.”

“Is that another name for your Xs?” This man’s curiosity blew her mind. She couldn’t tell whether he really was so curious about learning more secrets or if it was a defense mechanism to avoid fear of danger.

“Yes,” She said.  

He started to ask something else, but she waved a finger and said, “Aht aht aht. Have a good day, Salmonella.” 

“I refuse to answer to that one!” He said and huffed a little bit as she got into her car, which looked like a ladybug… like it was one of those red bugs, and she’d added spots, headlight eyelashes, a sunflower on the head, and various bumper stickers of witchy stuff and pro vagina sentiments… He furrowed his eyebrows at the I Heart My Vagina one and really wondered who the hell this woman was. Maybe he didn’t understand her at all… and if he couldn’t understand her, that would certainly make it harder for him to win her over or overthrow her. Either way… when her car started, some loud female rap music began, she tossed something out, and she took a few moments getting settled before she actually drove away. Simon watched her pull away and then looked down at her litter… It wasn’t litter. That was why she left it. He picked it up. It was a flier from his mom’s bistro and in curly q handwriting a message: “I SAID stop,” with a smiley face sticker.

He glared at the direction the car had gone in. She wouldn’t. They couldn’t. What would she do to his mom? Nothing. He didn’t believe her. His mom was an upstanding citizen in two countries, a local feminist icon, in a way - single mother and business owner who frequently allowed gatherings for rallies and stuff in her place of business, and a good, wholesome person. They didn’t even hurt that killer’s wife. There was no way that they would hurt his mother… But… He couldn’t risk it. He backed down. He wasn’t going to press Sunny. She was too mysterious… He… was afraid of her. Unlike the others, even Xander, whose weaknesses he saw, understood and could exploit in the face of danger.. He just couldn’t figure that out with Sunny.

From everything he took note of, she had… he didn’t know how to word it… nothing of value to her. Of course, she seemed like she loved her family and her friends, and the kids, but… she just read like an empty vessel, mimicking a loving daughter, friend, mentor. Even when she was around the yoga students that she seemed to genuinely like, he just felt like her energy wasn’t decipherable enough to throw caution to the wind. THIS. Was definitely a threat. 

He was frustrated after that. He went to the gun range. He spent a few days on a “detox” of sorts. He stayed away from Grace’s friends. He went to practice shooting, visited his mother, got chewed out by his literary agent, and went back to the bookstore coffee shop to try to focus on his book again. All he had at this point was a title: Beauty, Like the Knight… and the tentative synopsis that he bullshitted to Chloe, “She’s an avenging angel who slays child predators and stuff.”

“HOW is that urban?” She had demanded.

“They’re in a fucking city, Chloe,” he’d said, with a low coldness in his voice that she wasn’t used to and he certainly had never used that type of language with her before. The silence between them tipped him off that she was shocked and potentially upset, so he chuckled awkwardly and said, “I haven’t had coffee today, but I’m in the coffee shop. She’s on a quest to end a trafficking ring in an urban setting and… I don’t know, Chloe… I’ve got a lot of notes. I’ll produce an outline today.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay… Simon, are you okay?”

“I went through a recent breakup… Should fuel my soul for creativity.”

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize that you were involved with anyone. Well… I look forward to seeing what type of urban magic you create.”

He nodded and hung up. Urban Magic… He tilted his head at the screen. Maybe he  should add magic to the story. He shook his head. They didn’t WANT magic from him. Magic wasn’t selling recently. Maybe if he lollygagged long enough, he’d miss this wave of everybody trying to pretend to care about diversity by lazily including POC here and there or telling a tone deaf story, but dipping the language and/or characters in a little bit of color/culture that the writers didn’t understand or know… He sighed… And why did he even care to stay relevant in writing if he was going to be writing crap that he didn’t even care about?

But… he did care about her. He cared about her life. He cared about her story. He missed her and he missed the rush of having her there. But, he knew that he had to make the choice and currently, that choice was that he loved his mom and Grace refused to be around him. Her friends were keeping them apart, but if even one of them would hurt his mother in the process, he had to let go of this remarkable fantasy where this beautiful deadly knight falls in love with a sensible prince, no matter how much he was willing to give to her in the process. Besides, he’d never done this before - let himself be so taken up with someone that he shirked all reason and rationale to know them and to love them… So, Simon decided to move on.

It “worked” for a little while. For a few weeks, he stopped following them, stopped watching, and even got back into the habit of focusing on work and stuff. He was sending Tulip massive therapy checks and whenever his 26th birthday rolled around, he tried to enjoy himself. He and his mom went to Minnesota to visit Tulip and her mom for both his birthday, Christmas and New Year, since those were all three so close and the Olsens were like their family. He opened his social media back up and was regarded with a lot more online love than he had for the weeks he had been set to private, hoping to weed her out. She was gone. He had to just accept it.

Except… he couldn’t deny himself one indulgent little search. It was his birthday, and he had resisted for weeks! That was very big of him, considering that most of his year had been spent focused on her and her alone and this was ONE day where he should have been able to just try to peek and see if anybody saw what she was doing on today… And… she was back…

He saw an account come up in her name on one of the social media platforms “Grace St. Catherine Artwork” and… he was now scrolling through her photos while everyone was having cake… She had artwork she was posting. The Saint and The Shadow… They seemed to be foils, but no… no, no… He understood it better than most of the people giving the works likes. That static figure in the background of the heroine in these images wasn’t an enemy, lurking around her… it was an extension of who she was in the light… and some of them even had a face… His face. She was really good, even though she “dabbled,” according to her. But, she “dabbled” in a lot of things that she wound up being pretty good at. He wanted to go through and like them all, but he was so afraid she might vanish again… and even though he was supposed to just be checking, a small indulgence for his birthday… he knew the moment that he saw a video of her drawing vigorously while Hazel walked around on the desk and read the caption, “Thinking about my ex on his birthday and making what I would have given him. Not gonna show you all, but that’s what I’m doing. 😝” and he noticed that it had been posted today… he felt like he was falling down a dark chute that led him directly back into his deepest feelings. 

“Oh, he’s on Grace’s page,” he heard his mother say and it snapped him back into the room. He looked up and Tulip was staring at him in concern, Mikayla, in confusion and Aunt Meg gave him a sympathetic look. His mother kissed him on his hair and squeezed his shoulder, “We can do gifts later.”

“No. No… I’m good.” He smiled and Tulip noted that it was a different one than the one that he had earlier. She couldn’t tell which one was more painful to look at, that empty one from when they arrived, or this one laced in emotion that she just… worried about.

Whenever she found him later, she reminded him, “You said that you two were over.”

He nodded, “We are,” he said and Tulip knew that he never lied on purpose, but he sometimes… lied to himself and fully believed it. It was fine before Grace, but all she could do now was be afraid for him and his… delusions of grandeur.

“I thought she gave up social media.”

“I guess she felt comfortable enough to return. It’s just a business page, though. Well.. An art page. But, it looks like she sells her work. That’s cool. Good for… good for her.”

“Simon, please promise me that you won’t get yourself entangled in this woman again…”

He frowned and turned to look at her, “No.”

“Simon.”

“I’m not going to promise you anything about her. I can’t. I don’t like to lie, and… I just don’t know. I don’t know what I’m going to do when it comes to her. I never meant to become obsessed. I’ve never stalked anybody. I never… was the person that my emotions for her turns me into. I can’t make any promises anymore, Tools. Not about her.” She sighed and wanted to cry, but also didn’t want to in front of him. He patted her on the back, absentmindedly and went back inside. 

After the holidays, whenever he got back into town, he’d successfully been ONLY watching Grace’s one art social media page (not officially following it, either) and had been “off” of watching her friends or engaging in their business for almost two months! He was proud of himself. He wondered if that was why when he got home, there was a jumbo envelope outside of his door with no postmark and HAPPY BIRTHDAY in big letters and familiar script. He picked it up and opened it before even unlocking his door, neglecting his luggage bag now to see this artwork, drawn onto cloth, of him curiously reaching out for a rose, meanwhile its thorns were wrapping around him and even cutting into his flesh. His face is enamored and the rose is wilting. He looks like if he can just touch it, he believes that at least one of them, or perhaps both might be saved… Or… maybe he looked like if he could just touch it that one of them or both might perish… So, he didn’t really know what message she wanted him to comprehend from it. He guessed that would depend on perspective, and in either… he still needed to touch her. 

.

Simon messaged the art account, “I don’t understand. Why are you doing this to me? I stopped. I left you alone. I let you go… Why are you torturing me? Is this what it felt like to you? Are you punishing me for wanting you too much? For giving up on you and moving on? Please… just… tell me what you need me to do…”

Sunny sighed and held her forehead, then looked at Xander, “What is it that you need him to do?”

Xander rubbed his hands together, thinking to himself, then said, “Arrange a meeting for him, in the Field, since he fucking knows about it now. Make him come alone and… I’ll handle it from there.” Sunny bit her lip and stared at the screen. “Come on, Sunny. You’re the only one that might be able to fool him. He’s too skilled in Grace for any way that I might type it up to actually sound like her. You capture her perfectly. He obviously believes that this is her page.”

“That’s mostly on the strength of Xandria copping her art style. This just… This is going further than what you initially said we were doing, which was figuring out if he really had moved on or if he was just waiting for an opening to come for her again… It feels like we CREATED an opening that he wasn’t waiting for. If you would have told me about the birthday present, I never would have agreed to this.”

“Sunny…” Xander kneeled in front of her and cupped her face, “I would never ask you to do anything that you don’t believe in and I won’t ask you to do anything else for me, ever. But, I  have to protect her and I have to protect all of us. He’s dangerous.”

“I don’t think that he is, Xan…”

“He IS!” He rolled the chair aside and began to type, hoping that maybe Simon was too shaken up to note any differences. “I think we need to face each other and finally settle things, good or bad… I’m not going to live in fear. I’ve done that already.”

Simon wiped away tears, “There’s nothing to fear. I just… Okay. Let’s meet, then. Remember our last date night?”

Xander blinked and looked at Sunny, “Do you know what that means? Is this code? Did she have CODE with him???”

Sunny shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, “He was her official alibi for a few months, just in case, so maybe it’s something to do with that. She’d definitely remember though, and he’ll definitely know that she wouldn’t have forgotten a detail like that.” She folded her arms and watched Xander type.

“I do. But, that’s not what I want. I want it on MY terms. You’ve controlled enough without my permission. Meet me in the place that you weren’t supposed to be.”

Simon suspiciously looked at the message. That could mean anything and while Grace was very vague at times, he usually knew exactly what she was vaguing about... “Your apartment?” he asked. “The storage unit? Where is this place that you’re talking about?”

Xander frowned, “I think he’s made me. Sunny… You have to help.”

“I literally don’t.”

“If he figures out that this is a set up, he’ll react and it’ll be bad.”

“Then just say “Sorry, I can’t do this. I’ve gotta go,” and leave him the fuck alone.”

“NO! I can’t do THAT.”

Sunny rolled the chair back in front of the computer and typed out, “Huh. I was told that you and my Left Hand discussed this place whenever you last saw each other. She was… compelled to give you some advice on the subject.”

“Oh…” He frowned. If she wanted him to come to the Field of Nulls, maybe he understood this drawing, after all… She didn’t think that she could come home unless he was gone. She intended to kill him. He let tears fall down his face. She betrayed him. He knew that she was upset and that she wanted distance, but he never would have thought she would take it this far. He responded, “I don’t like this Grace. It feels like I’ll be harmed. I’m going to have to set up some insurance. If something happens to me, I’ll have to have someone… release things. Are you okay with agreeing to this?”

Xander hissed, “Shit!” Sunny stared at him. At any moment, he could just admit defeat, confess to Grace and work on fixing her anger about it. “Reply something, please?”

She sighed and typed, “Do whatever makes you feel safe. You should know that I wouldn’t hurt you, but I understand why you’re leery.”

This was… oddly trusting, but suspiciously selfish. Grace would begrudgingly agree to do their last Date Night alibi and take upon the potential danger to her group all on herself. As much as it hurt him to know it, she would NEVER allow even the idea of putting them in danger, not for anything, not even him. And… to just contact him and then do so, out of nowhere, when he hadn’t been bothering any of them or her in months? He looked at the artwork again. He began to look through artwork that he had salvaged of hers and he found one that he remembered, of him. He checked it against this one and wow, this was elaborate as hell of a plan and ALMOST got him, but… that wasn’t Grace’s work. It was beautiful, and he loved the whatever the message was or the warning… but, somebody else had made this. He wondered if they had forged the “Happy Birthday,” or if Grace had actually written it, and if she had, had it been for this? That didn’t seem likely. “If you don’t meet me at our last Date Night in 30 minutes, I’m going to set the wheels in motion.”

Sunny tossed her hands in the air. “He made us. You’d better come clean to him and to Grace.”

“It’ll take me less than 30 minutes to get to his house and kill his ass,” Xander said, grabbing a bat with nails hammered into it.

“You can’t be serious. Grace is gonna…”

“Forgive me! Grace is gonna forgive me for fucking up and fixing my mistake!” Xander fussed. Sunny tried to stop him and he snapped at her, “You’re wasting my time! He’s gonna rat on us to the police!” She moved aside, hurt and scared, but when he pulled off, she called Grace. This was going too far and even if he DID successfully kill Simon, he was going to definitely be fucking arrested and thrown into prison for the rest of his life. 

“Grace, this is an emergency. Xander is going after Simon.”

Grace KNEW it was true, because even though Sunny was playful, she wouldn’t play like this and this was the first time that she had ever said his name right. “Warn him,” Grace said first. Sunny typed it into the messages, as Grace added, “And explain it to me.”

After the 15 minutes it took Sunny to explain everything, from the warning Simon to stop, Xander being paranoid that he was still out there, watching and waiting, the fake art page, the gift, the ruse and tonight’s messaging, Grace was already heading for the airport. Xander was going to lose his shit, but Grace was losing hers and Sunny could tell that there was gonna be hell to pay whenever she got back. 

It was hours later that Xander came back home, and Sunny wasn’t there. Jalicia was asleep, but he woke her up and went over it with her. He had gotten a call from Grace. She found out about him spearheading his first executive decision to take Simon out while she was in Canada and she was on her way… She pulled rank on him, and she was probably going to kill him… to… to actually choose this null over him… “She’s unfit to lead, right? She’s… she’s fucking lost it, right? RIGHT?”

Jalicia pulled him into a hug and let him cry on her, “Grace would never hurt you, Xander. Your paranoia is just messing with your mind. Grace would never, ever hurt you.”

“She’s choosing him over us. He threatened us. He said he would turn us over and she’s going to give him what he wants? She’s going to just LET him use her like a puppet? She’s let him void out every part of her that has made her the champion we put all of our trust into!”

Jalicia knew Sunny’s routine enough to remember which tea to make, which grass to smoke, which songs to play and Xander eventually fell to sleep in her bed, crying over it all.

.

Grace called Simon and he picked up, while at her old apartment. “It's me,” she said.

“Hey… Was it you? Before?”

“No, but I’ve been caught up to speed. Where are you now?” He said the address and she froze, “My old apartment?”

“Yeah. I figured that 808 would be less likely to set my headquarters on fire if they were here. The damage that might be done to uninsured neighboring apartments and all that. The thing is that I was trying so hard to get over you and to give you space and they just… didn’t let me. This shouldn’t be allowed. They shouldn’t be allowed to do this to me…”

“Well… Let’s call it even for your previous violations.” They were silent. “Please, Simon. If you ever cared about me, don’t hurt them…”

“Why does..?” he groaned so loudly it scared her. “Why does EVERYONE act like I’M the dangerous person? I’m THE ONLY person in this entire situation who ISN’T fucking dangerous!” He took a deep breath and shook his head, “Sorry, that was unfair, and I’m sorry.”

“You said that you were going to turn them in if I didn’t come to see you.”

“I knew that wasn’t you. They… still don’t know you as well as they think that they do and if they do know, they certainly can’t translate it properly. I wouldn’t hurt them or you, I was just testing to see if they would tell me the truth.” He heard a knock on the door and he froze. 

“Are you gonna let me in?” she wondered. He thought about grabbing his gun, just in case she didn’t believe him and in case that wasn’t her and she had actually sent Xander, after all… but… why go through all of this for that? He looked through the peephole and she was there. He wanted to open it and throw his arms around her, but what if she wasn’t alone? What if she had a syringe and the van was right around the corner? Oh God… He was doubting her. He was afraid now. Xander had won, in a way. He didn’t want to open the door. “Simon, are you in the apartment, or not?”

“How do I know that you aren’t coming here just to finally get rid of your stalker problem?”

“I guess you don’t know that anymore than I know if tomorrow morning, I’ll have a bigger stalker problem than I had yesterday. It's up to you whether you trust that I’m here to try to fix things or whether you break my trust and hurt my friends.” He opened the door and glanced up both hallways before stepping out, but she pushed passed him and went inside of the apartment. It was similar to the storage, but somehow more haunting in a home setting. Her face everywhere and all of the information and surveillance reorganized. She sat on the couch with the Grace mannequin/doll.. Which was now more detailed than before and also now wearing clothes she’d left behind. She raised an eyebrow and shook her head.

“I was never going to hurt you.”

“I know,” she said. 

“I… don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I did this. Why I took it so far.”

“I do.” 

He sat down between her and the mannequin, “Because I let you and I encouraged you. I wasn’t sure, but I surely had my thoughts and I liked them. I liked my thoughts of you being so into me that you would follow me around or watch me for a long time, even obsess over my photos and hang on my every word. I don’t know what the fuck love is supposed to look like, in a normal setting. I thought maybe that was one of those things… that this was how it was supposed to be if he was really into you and then, I indulged in the thought of somebody loving me and wanting to serve me, not because we had endured shit together, or because I pledged revenge in their name or I saved them, but just because I’m me. I wanted to be special. I’ve always wanted to be the love of somebody’s life. Even when I was little, before I… before the Apex…. The FIRST Apex, I never had the love that I craved and thirsted for. I suppose those years didn’t teach me much. Because I still managed to get inside of a pretty carriage with a nice man and head directly into disaster.”

“It's not your fault. You didn't ask for anything, and even if you wanted me to... I made a choice and you never knew for sure how far I took it all. But... Please tell me you don’t think that I’m so bad? As that man? That this disaster is like that one...” He looked like he might cry and she reflexively took his hand. They smiled at each other. He exhaled and squeezed her hand, “I found him,” he said.

“What?” she asked, laughing a little and confused about the random turn in the conversation. 

His face turned serious, and hers followed, matching the expression. “I  found  him.” She was still confused, but suddenly apprehended by stress as Simon moved to grab an envelope much like the ones that she got from the flower shop, like the one that he gave Jalicia. He was saying words that didn’t make sense. Stuff like, “Outside of their territories, city limits, neighboring towns news,” and so on and as she pulled out a mugshot of a man who obviously had seen better days, a flood of emotions came rushing over her. This man in the photo, years older, and a lot of stress later, but it was undeniable. She had forgotten certain details, but her body had definitely remembered them in the trauma it stored. If she took off some years, added some money, and a big bright pinky ring, it was him. This was the man that took her. 

This was the man that stole her life and gave her this awful destiny that made it so hard for her to love… She looked at Simon, and he helped her flip through the pages, because she couldn’t. 

This man was arrested not too long after she disappeared, and whenever he got out, he went to a half way house and reentered society… all in a span of time before she ever got back home… He had moved on and lived past it while she had still been in it. The sound that erupted from her was terrifying, but Simon refused to react to it.  Instead, he set the information aside and took her hands into his. 

“I was going to give it to them and try to lure you back to me, but whenever they threatened my mom, I,” he sounded ashamed to even admit it. “I chose her…” 

“They threatened your mom?” Grace asked. “God, Xander spiraled…”

“No, not him, the girlfriend.”

“Alexandria? She’s been out of the…” She stopped, seeing something regretful in his face. Her heart broke. “Sunny?”

“I didn’t know if she meant it, but I couldn’t take the chance. It wasn’t like she knew that I had this, but I wanted to avoid something happening to Mom. I love my mom.”

Grace shook her head, “She wouldn’t have, but, she might have let Xander, if he went for it. She’s… she wouldn’t have, but she didn’t tell me… She told me everything, I thought, but she left that part out. Would she have?”

“Xander making murder attempts, Sunny making immoral threats, do they even… still acknowledge you as their leader, or has the mission changed?” He asked. He wasn’t being manipulative, this time. He was actually very concerned. Because, if the Apex thought that Grace was turning on them… If they thought she was a threat to everything they’d built, or unfit to lead… if they thought that she was a danger to them all…

“I have to go…” She said, collecting the information and leaving the apartment. “Don’t follow me,” she said. “I mean it.”

“I’ve learned my lesson,” he said, choking down the anger of rejection and the disgust of her rushing into potentially dangerous arms with what he thought might be the most important thing she had ever been given in her life! 

Her eyes were soft upon him as she hugged the information to her chest. “Thank you, Simon.”

His anger was gone. He came over and gave her a hug. “You… remember our last Date Night, don’t you?”

She scoffed and laughed, “Duh. That romantic ass shit. Why?” 

“I just… hoped you had.” He smiled at his feet, “You didn’t tell them.”

“I mean, I didn’t tell them any of them. It would be easier to just tell them if the need arose, than to give them several to potentially stumble over. To be honest, it was a shame it was fake. That’s the kind of thing…” She bit her lip and now she looked at their shoes. “That was around the time that I knew how I felt about you.” She turned and left quickly, not offering how she felt. She… knew that he probably knew. He knew everything else about her.

.

Grace felt like an outsider here. Maybe it was the time she spent in the safe house, maybe it was the fact that two of these three people had kept secrets from her and tried to lie to her, whether in her personal interest, or theirs… she hated it, but she also would forgive them. They were held together by interweaving threads. Even if she didn’t fully trust them right now, what could she do? Do this shit without them? Unlikely. And there was the whole matter of Simon. She hadn’t seen him since she had been back. Sometimes, she thought that she felt him watching, but she was always too afraid to turn around to check. More afraid that he might not be there than the thought that he might. 

The X was taking the trash out in the alley, the way he tended to do around this time at the place that he worked as a custodian. Sunny felt conflicted about it, since he hadn’t been a criminal in years. Jalicia felt like the group needed to heal before trying to do a job like this. Xander was willing to do anything to get into Grace’s… well… her good graces. Grace was out for blood and feeling betrayed that only Xander seemed as bloodthirsty about this as she did, and that even this seemed fabricated for her pleasure! 

They had gone over Jalicia’s tactical plan, and it should have been a breeze to pick him up, but whenever Grace got out of the van and to wait and the van was still, in the darkness, the man was cautious. There were no businesses doing anything in the alley at this time of night and he knew that a van meant criminal activity. He didn’t want to get involved and tried to rush back in. Grace knew that the door would lock, so she rushed upon him and when she did, he was prepared and shot her right in the abdomen. 

Should she have known to not rush him like that? Of course. Could she rationalize in the moment that she did? Not really. And whenever Xander started the van, Sunny opened the door to try to grab Grace, but the X was pointing the gun at the van now and Xander swerved out of panic and Sunny couldn’t catch hold of her. The other shots fired and Sunny screamed, unable to see behind the van, but presuming of course, that he finished Grace off, unless he had been firing at the van and simply missed every shot. She didn’t know what the hell had just happened, but Xander was still driving and crying, and not seeming to turn around and mow that motherfucker with this thing. 

.

Simon was out of his car by the time she was shot, his own gun drawn and his heart racing as everything happened much too fast for him to save her from what happened. The first gunshot rang through the night and he watched Grace fall and the van start. They were going to leave her. OF COURSE they were. That’s what they DID. But, he wasn’t going to. He could hardly see the shadow moving and shot him first in the back of the neck, but once the body fell he advanced on him, continuing to fire into him until he emptied the gun and reached Grace. She was unresponsive. It was too dark. He could see a little bit, but the security lights on the outside of most of these buildings hadn’t been changed in a while and the nearest one only gave him a little, so he made sure that she knew it was him. He turned on the flashlight of his phone and found the wound to try to stop the bleeding. He was on the phone and writing something on her hand, and trying to hold it together, but he couldn’t. He was crying and confessing on the phone to having shot someone. They were thinking he meant that he shot the woman he was calling about, but he managed, “No. No… Not her… I love her. I shot him. I’m sure I killed him.” 

He wasn’t crying because he killed someone, though maybe later, that would hit him harder. He was crying because all he had ever wanted to do was help her, save her, protect her, and it was his fault that she was dying in his arms. It was his fault… and she had just gone unconscious...

14. A Shot in the Dark Pt.2

[ill-skillsgard]

Sweet Demons, Part 6 FINALE - Zeitgeist/Axel Cluney

Title: Sweet Demons

Description: It's the weekend of Friday the Thirteenth, the biggest motorcycle rally and festival in the Western Hemisphere but nothing is more enticingly chaotic to her than the mysterious new member of the famous Motor City Sweet Demons.

Warning: 18+ Mentions of drugs/alcohol/violence, eventual smut/various kinks

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Max demanded that I went into the house and left Axel alone but how could I have possibly ignored what I saw? From the living room window, I peered out so I could continue to watch what was happening. Bradley had helped Axel up on his feet and took him to the clubhouse while my dad hauled the garden hose out from the backyard to start spraying away the peculiar black vomit that had come up from Axel's throat. Confusion set in followed swiftly by anxiety. Nothing about what had happened made sense and the longer I watched my dad pointing a jet-stream of water at the place Axel had thrown up the more I realized that whatever ungodly liquid had come out of that man was leaving a nice deep blemish in the concrete. I paced around the house for a few minutes, unsure of what to do. Nothing had prepared me for what had happened outside. My head pounded and a sick swirling of guilt twisted my gut until it became difficult to breathe. I wanted to go to Axel just to see if he was okay although I was brimming with unanswered questions that wanted to explode forth. The way he had glared at me and told me to get away from him was playing on a loop in my head. Holding my hand to my chest, I tried to breathe in deeply and rationalize what I witnessed but there was nothing I could draw from. The pitch black liquid that seemingly burned through concrete was the last thing I had ever expected to witness. "Angel? Where are you? I need some bandages in here!" I heard my dad yell from the garage. I found a first aid kit under the sink in the downstairs bathroom and brought it to the garage where Braun was sitting on an old white plastic lawn chair with a balled up rag held to his right eye. The rag was not only caked in oil but also soaked in blood. "Get that shit off of his face, you're going to get it infected!" I yelled, shoving the first aid box into my dad's arms. "Why do you care?" Braun spat. "Hey now. You better fuckin' cool it, kid." Dad admonished in a way that was completely sincere and not at all bordering on the edge of a joke. "I've had about enough out of all yous." "I'll go get you some ice... Your eye is swelling like a balloon." Braun shot up from the chair and yelled, "why don't you go try to take care of Axel? Stop pretending like you give a fuck, 'cause it's not cute!" I stood up straight, offended and threw up my hands in defeat. "Fine! Fuck you too then! Fuck everyone!" When I went back into the house I was even more upset than before. I had fucked up so royally that everybody was at each other's throats. Then Max finally came down from the clubhouse to find my father in the garage taking care of Braun's deep cut and his ruptured eye. From the kitchen, it was easy to eavesdrop on anything that was being said in the garage, that I knew so I held my breath and listened hard to maybe try to gather some answers without having to go digging myself. "He all right?" Dad asked as Max entered the garage from the back door, sighing in frustration. "He'll be fine. More just pissed off about the Widow-Maker I think." "I tried to have a look at it but... Something's wrong with the fuel tank." "So weird. He was riding last night... How could something go bust overnight?" "Ah, who fucking knows. Might have to open her up to have a look." "Fuck, Al... I don't know. We have to hit the road like two hours ago. The rest of them are antsy to get going... I don't know what to do." The rusty squeal of the back door rang and a familiar gait thumped through the garage. I swallowed down the breath I was clenching in my lungs and took in another. If anyone came in through the kitchen entrance it would have been obvious that I was listening in but at that point, I didn't much care. "Just go. I'll meet you guys at the next stop once I get her going. Don't let me hold you up." Max Sweet lamented, "fuck Axe... I don't want to leave you behind." "Janet can tail. I'm not leaving here without the Widow-Maker." "Axe... You sure?" "I'm positive. You guys hit the road. I'll see what's up with her and get her going again then I'll meet you up North." "Shit," said Max. "I guess so." "Bring her on up. We'll have a look at her," Dad said. "Thanks, Al. And again... I'll cover the cost of filling the hole in the driveway." "Ah, fuck it. I got a guy who owes me a favor. I'll get it fixed. Don't worry about it." "I'm a little worried about it." "I'd rather you puke your fuckin'... Whatever unholy shit that was on the driveway and not on someone's face." "Where is she?" I heard Axel ask quietly after a few seconds of silence between the three. "She's in the house," Dad replied. "But you best focus on the task at hand." "Yeah, we have to get going," Max agreed. I went up to my bedroom and watched out the window as the Motor City Sweet Demons all got on their bikes and took off without Axel. I felt guilt rip at my throat like a rabid dog and I longed to go to the garage to speak to him even though I was at a loss for what to say. From the second floor, I watched Axel in the driveway, scratching the back of his head, staring at the Demons as they set off. Once he was left alone he circled his bike again, frowning, looking genuinely hurt. It felt terrible to me and all at once I wished I could disappear off the face of the Earth. He kicked up the stand and pushed the Widow-Maker up the driveway, disappearing from sight into the garage to begin work on it. I gave it a couple of hours before I decided to snake my way down into the garage to see him. Even though I had gone over what to say in my head a hundred times I was still afraid of what he would say to me. When I entered the kitchen to get to the garage door I heard the clanging of metal on metal. The sounds of Axel taking apart his bike were loud and I paused for a moment to gather my thoughts before opening the door. He looked up at me when I opened the door but quickly dropped his gaze back to what he was doing when he realized it was me. The seat of his motorcycle had been taken off and the bolts were on the ground right beside it in a metal dish. I wasn't exactly sure what he was doing but it looked like he was working on taking the gas tank off the bike. Grinding the toe of my sandal into the ground, I cleared my throat but he either didn't hear me over the sound of the Allen wrench or simply chose to ignore me. The latter made my heart sink and I immediately felt like Axel wanted nothing more to do with me. I approached the bike, grimacing and trying to lock eyes with Axel but he wouldn't pull himself away from dismantling his bike for a second. "Are you um... Are you okay?" I piped up. With lips clamped shut in concentration he shrugged. "I don't know. Does it look like I'm okay?" "I just wanted to make sure you were... Feeling all right?" "I'll be all right once I'm on the fuckin' road." Blinded by his words, I took one step back incredulously, "I'm sorry... I didn't know you were so eager to leave." "My gang's on the road right now without me. Of course, I'm eager to leave." "Well, you don't have to shut me out. I mean... I think you owe me an explanation after all that." Axel dropped the screwdriver that he was using to unscrew bolts and clapped his hand on the fuel tank that was half off. "I don't owe you anything, okay? I told you that I don't catch feelings at the beginning of the weekend and I wasn't just saying it to be cute. You and I had a good time but right now, I'm about to put my fist through a window and I need you to leave me alone." I stammered when I realized that what he said hurt worse than it should. The icy glare he gave me before picking up a wrench from my dad's toolbox was as forbidding as it was repelling. "Fine. I can see that it meant nothing to you at all. No romance. No nothing. That's fine by me. So when you come back here again, don't look for me." Axel pretended not to hear what I said and the longer I stayed there and watched him ignore me the angrier I got. "Fuck you! What the fuck is your problem?" "You, clearly." "No! You are the problem! How dare you try to tell me you don't catch feelings when you spent the whole weekend with me. You had full intentions of coming back for me before all this. Why are you suddenly acting like you're too good for me now?" He only raised his eyebrows before hunching over and reaching underneath the gas tank to disconnect the fuel lines. "Axel!" I yelled at him. He punched the fuel tank and stood up, the lines of his face deepening with anger. His eyes smoldered and he came in my direction. I hardly had a moment to flinch before his hand was squeezing my face, his immensity over me backing me up until I was pressed up against a steel standing tool chest. "What do I have to do to show you that I am not the kind of guy you want to spend your time with? You saw what happened. I'm. Not. Normal. I'm a walking fucking nightmare... An accident waiting to happen." I remembered the day I first saw him and thought the very same thing that he had just growled at me. He was an accident waiting to happen. Nobody with tattoos like that could have any kind of notion of normalcy. Although I hated Axel for being exactly the thing he told me he was, I hated myself more because I was just as bad. No matter how hard I tried to go a different way in my life I knew that I would always end up a selfish, self-indulgent delinquent and there I was, in his grip and at his mercy. He released my face but did not recoil an inch. He kept me backed up against the chest. "Angel... You are one fine piece of ass but us together... It would be too much. I have to get some fucking answers before I can pledge myself to anything. You don't seem to understand me when I say that I cannot get close to anybody. Even if I really, really want to. Try to get it through your head. You and me... It's got 'bad idea' written all over it. So, please...  Don't make this shit harder than it already is." I held in all of the emotion that wanted to burst from my mouth. Nodding my head simply to pull myself back from the edge of crying, I blinked and blinked away the tears. I knew he was right but I wished that he wasn't. I loathed that I couldn't manage to turn him over to me. No matter how badly I wanted him he wouldn't have me. I was just another stop on his journey. "Okay... I understand." "Thanks," he said shortly and then stepped back from me. He looked me up and down once and then turned back to his motorcycle; the only thing to him that really mattered. Biting my lip to keep from spilling anything more, I let my body relax a little. He went back to work as though I wasn't there and I stood still, hands clasped behind my back, aching to explode and tell him everything inside of me that was gouging to get out. The back door opened and a fan of light came in from the sun as well as my dad. He paused and looked between the both of us almost like he could smell the tension in the room. "You kids all right?" He asked us. "Yeah, Dad. Fine." "Gettin' there," said Axel. "How far along have you gotten on that bike, Axe?" Axel squinted as he reached under to pull off the last line. "Well, Going to take the tank apart. See what's going on." "Fuck, kid, you gotta get on the road," Dad reminded him. "I got plenty of working bikes out back, you're welcome to any of them." Scoffing in disbelief, Axel ran his greasy fingers through his hair looking taken aback by my dad's offer. "Al... I couldn't. I can't... I can't leave my bike here. I won't ride anything else." "I know, I know. Figured I'd offer, is all." "I really appreciate it, Al. I should have this taken care of by tonight then I'll be out of your hair for good." Dad looked at me and noticed that I had been exceptionally quiet during their conversation. Although, he chose not to draw attention to it. My dad knew how to read a situation and act accordingly. I was glad he didn't point out how I had been standing there like a statue with a wild animal of a disclosure clawing at my insides, gnawing on my ribs like the bars of a cage. It almost made me feel sick. The garage door was wide open so I turned and started walking towards the end of the driveway, ignoring the shallow pothole that Axel had created in it. Nobody called after me and I was glad because once I got to walking I didn't want to stop. Not until I made my way down the street, walked along with the curve of the bridge that bounded over the highway and through the main street to the beach. Because it was Monday, there weren't a lot of families on the beach enjoying the sun and swimming in the water. There were no groups of girls laid side by side sun-bathing in their bikinis and no kids running around in the shallow, lapping water playing with Frisbees and splashing each other. I didn't much care for the beach in my town usually. There were so many better ones nearby but on that day it was a relief to sit in the sand and look out at the same water that I had been looking out on for years. I wanted to tell Axel about what I did and I knew if I did that meant I would have to apologize to Braun too. My selfish impulse had hurt a lot more people than I intended. I felt cowardly as I took off my flipflop sandals and buried my toes in the sand so the feeling of the untouched under layer would cool my feet. For the first time in a long time, I decided to go swimming. I left my sandals where I had sat down and made my way to the edge of the water. The wet sand sucked in my footsteps and the water splashed up my ankles to my shins and then to my knees. With no regard for the temperature, I walked right in until I was deep enough to dive over the curl of a wave, swimming out further and further until I was far enough for the shore to shrink. There I floated, relaxing in the silence and letting my body get carried back with each gentle undulation. I skimmed the water all around my head with my fingers to make sure nobody that could potentially see me floating out there in my tank top and denim shorts thought I was a dead body. I probably looked strange but I didn't really care. It felt good to just close my eyes and pretend like I was no longer alive. The sun beat down and dried my face quickly so I took a long dunk under the water and resurfaced to breathe. When I turned away from the beach all I could see was the water meet the sky and for a moment I forgot what was plaguing me. I spent the brightest hours of the day reliving the tourist experience. I bought an ice cream cone from the shop that we always used to go to and ate it in the park on a wooden memorial bench beside a fountain that never had any coins in it because people would always fish them out. I walked through the shops and said hello to the store owners that used to hire me for Summertime jobs as a teen. Then I went to the pond and skipped rocks. It felt good to do those things again. By the time I made it back to the beach the sun was just beginning to set. Judging by the bluish cast in the air I assumed it to be almost nine o'clock. Just about the time that the bars lit up only it was the first Monday after the Thirteenth and nobody would be hitting the bars except maybe a few old-timers that never missed a night. The town was calm and so was I. Until I heard a motorcycle coming down the main street. I looked back and saw a black and green chopper with Axel on it, a black bandanna tied over half of his face and a pair of sunglasses obstructing anyone from seeing what he looked like. I tried to make it appear as though I hadn't spotted him but he had spotted me and pulled up loudly, slowing to a steady chug just before the blockades. I didn't watch as he set his feet down on the ground, clutching the bars to maintain the weight of the machine between his legs. He revved the engine a couple of times in an attempt to get my attention but I didn't want to just whip around and go to him like some kind of pansy little girl with no backbone, even if that's exactly what I wanted to do. The engine roared again and I threw up my hands before turning around to face him. I shrugged at him and turned away again. Maybe it was immature of me but maybe I didn't care. He killed the engine and it wasn't long before I heard the shuffling of sand behind me. "Angel," he called to me. "Axel," I mumbled. "Hey! I'm talking to you. Don't ignore me," he commanded. Then it was time to whip around only to shoot a hateful look in his direction. He had pulled down his facemask and hooked the arm of his sunglasses onto the collar of his shirt so they were neatly tucked away beneath his leather jacket. He had even removed his riding gloves, opting to shove them in the back pocket of his jeans as he approached. "Oh! But it's okay for you to ignore me? Why don't you go get fucked." "Angel, please. I'm sorry." Struck by his apology, I shook my head in disbelief. He noticed my shocked reaction and smiled at me. He looked so menacing in his green boots, black jeans, and leather jacket but as soon as a hint of a smile cracked over his lips it threw off the entire illusion. "Sorry for what?" "For everything. I should have kept my hands to myself. You and I should have never gotten involved at all." "Okay, you sound like an asshole again." "I AM an asshole. That's what I have been trying to say! I am a constant source of disappointment to everyone I come across. There's nothing good about me at all." To hear him say those things about himself cut me inside. I frowned at him and reached for his hand. Turning his palm over, I stared at his rings and brushed the pad of my thumb over a=the skull-shaped one on his middle finger. I sighed heavily and let go of his hand and in response, he took a step toward me. "You are right though. I do owe you an explanation." Digging my toes into the sand, I waited for him to ready himself to speak again. He sighed and looked out over the water and then back at me. It was getting darker and the streetlights came on but the light didn't quite reach where we stood on the beach. "Obviously you saw what happened," he began with a heavy sigh. "Yes." "I'm still trying to figure it out. There's something wrong inside of me... There's something there that's rotten." "What is it?" "I don't know yet. All I know is that at any given moment, anyone around me is in danger." "Can't you control it?" I inquired. Axel scratched the back of his head then hooked his finger under his bandanna and pulled on it. "For the most part, yes. But... It gets harder to control when I'm pissed or... I don't know, excited?" "I understand why you don't like kissing now." Axel took one more step closer to me and closed the short gap between us. With my feet in the sand, he seemed extra tall and I tipped my head back to look at his face. "It's not that I don't like it. It's that... I don't want to hurt somebody and when I met you I knew that I had to be careful. If I did something to you... To Big Al's daughter... I'd be done." "So... You're sick? I still don't understand." "I don't understand it either. I've been searching for answers for a long time. I've been looking for somebody that can help me or at least explain why this affliction chose to manifest inside me." "I hope you find the answers you're looking for." "Me too." Axel wrapped his leather-clad arms around me and I returned the embrace, pressing my cheek to the left side of his chest and inhaling his scent quite possibly for the last time. "Axel..." "Yeah?" "I'm sorry for what I did to your bike. I just... I didn't want you to go. I wanted answers too. I know I'm a huge fucking selfish brat and I fucked up huge." "You did fuck up huge. Big time. But... So did I. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you." "I wanted it. I wanted you," I admitted. "Fuck, honey... I want you too. and it scares the Hell outta me for so many reasons." Squeezing him tighter, I tried to fight back the tears that were burning their way up from my throat to my eyes. He kissed the top of my head and held me harder still. "I don't want you to go," I whispered. "I don't want to be alone again." "I'm going to come back. I will. As soon as I can, I'll run to you. I just can't be with you right now. Not today... Not like this." "But you said you can control it." "Sometimes! I am not taking the risk that one day I might lose control. I lost control today, you saw! That could have been someone's face. I could have killed Braun. I could kill you just as easily." "Let me come with you!" I pleaded. "No! You're not coming with me. You wouldn't last a fucking week on the road." "I have it in me! I can do it." "Your father would have every biker in the country looking for me if I let you come with me. Don't be stupid... I know you're not." I finally broke and let out a sob. "I am stupid. So fucking stupid. I'm sorry!" "You're not stupid!" He held me by the arms and gave me a shake, my head wobbling lamely as I battled myself not to cry. It was a battle lost though and Axel pulled me back in. "You're just... A product of your environment. You're a spoiled brat with a father who let you do whatever you wanted because that's the motto he lives by." Axel started to giggle, holding me at an arm's length again so he could watch me cry. "Look at you. You're such a fucking brat! I can't handle it." "Shut up!" I sniffled. "Listen to me," his voice got lower. "It's not that I don't want you to come with me. It's just... You know you can't come without a bike. I'm following the Demons and you know damn well you can't ride with us unless you know your shit." "I can learn fast." "Yeah, you will. You're Al's daughter. You have a permanent fucking seat with us for life. There's a throne with your name on it, Angel. You just have to embrace it." "I'll learn, I promise." "I know you will," Axel told me. He leaned in and kissed me full and hard on the lips for a split second before pulling away again. "And you know I'm gonna be here every Thirteenth until the day I die, right?" Axel stroked my hair and pulled me into him again. His leather started to feel sticky on my skin so I pushed his jacket open and wrapped my arms around his waist, tucking my fingers under the hem of his shirt just to feel his skin again. I knew his time to depart was drawing nearer but I just couldn't force myself to let go of him. His natural fragrance and his black leather was the most exhilarating combination of smells and I craved them. "Come on, walk to my bike with me," he whispered. I didn't say anything and I hardly looked up as he released me from his embrace, causing me to give him up. My arms hung loosely at my sides until he took my hand and pulled me along. Once we reached the blockades he let go of me and went into his throwover bag. I watched as he rummaged around and pulled out the acid-stained rag of a shirt that I hated as much as I loved. "Here. I wore this shirt for like five years straight when I was a teenager so it should stink like me forever," he passed the shirt to me and I accepted it. Then he went back to the jet black leather saddlebag and pulled out a stolen pair of my panties. I opened my mouth but nothing would come out. I could only watch as he rose them to his mouth and inhaled them, letting his lashes flutter, a demonic smirk darkening over his face. I held his shirt close to me and looked up at him with no words. He tucked my pink panties back into his bag and approached me, wrapping me up in his arms again. He placed a gentle kiss on my cheek. I winced at the feeling of his mustache prickling my skin but welcomed it at the same time. Then he kissed my lips once, two times and then again for much longer. Relaxing, I melted into him and accepted any of his kiss I could get. He whimpered very slightly and I knew it was because he didn't want to stop. "I wasn't lying when I told you I'm coming back for that pussy," he whispered next to my ear. "I know." "Good." "I'll send you postcards." "Dirty ones?" "Are there any other kind?" We both laughed and it dawned like a great bell between us that it was time for him to get on his bike and leave. I drew a deep breath in through my nose and tried to cleanse myself of all of the emotion that had been shared. It was bittersweet to watch him straighten his back and stretch out before getting on his bike. With the toe of his boot, he kicked up the stand and mounted the Acid Bath Widow-Maker. He turned the ignition and she roared to life, lights blindingly sending a beam over the sand. Axel revved the engine before using his left hand to pull his facemask to his chin. "See you later, Zeitgeist." "See you later... Angelica," he called before yanking the black material up to cover his mouth and nose. Digging the soles of his boots into the ground, he walked the bike back, turned to me once more, winked then turned back toward the road. With a smooth peel out, Axel drove away and I watched him until he was out of sight. Shuddering out the remnants of my sadness, I started on my way home once the sound of the Widow Maker faded into the newly rising fog. My dad and Braun noticed me from the lit garage as I came up our street. I walked the length of the driveway and didn't stop until I was five feet away from them. I stared at my dad and then at Braun and then looked to the back of the garage where there was a bike covered by a thick black tarp. It had been shielded beneath the tarp for years, never moving. "Dad..." I said. "What's up, sweetheart?" "I wanna ride my bike."

FIN

[strangershield]

New Love

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Original Character

Warnings: none

-

Steve had learnt a lot over the past year. He discovered that the upside down existed. He discovered that he was a damn good babysitter. He discovered that being King Steve wasn’t as fun as it sounded. His most recent discovery came after the most recent trip to the upside down. The adventure allowed him to grow closer to the kids, even if he didn’t recognize it at first. Bonding with them helped him forget about Nancy, the girl who broke his heart. He was happy for her and Jonathan. He was a nice guy and a better boyfriend then Steve could ever hope to be. Still, seeing her smile in his arms hurt like hell. The kids helped distract him and also helped Steve get over his long lost love. How could he be thinking about his sorrows when the kids needed his guidance? Not that he knew, but the kids knew how much he was hurting over Nancy and how he enjoyed looking out for them. They didn’t necessarily need his help, but they liked helping him. That’s how Steve learnt about her. He was dropping Dustin and Lucas home from the arcade when Lucas started complaining about a cousin coming to stay for a couple of weeks. “How am I supposed to deal with this? My sister’s bad enough, I can’t have my cousin too.”

-

“How old is she?” Steve asked, his motherly tendencies ready to give advice.

“I dunno, I think seventeen. Around your age anyway.”

“Ah, so she’s older. Can’t simply give her to your sister then.”

“Nope, and it sucks.”

They arrived at his house and Steve watched Lucas go inside before starting the route to Dustin’s. It was silent until Dustin decided to break the ice.

“That’s good that she’s your age isn’t it?”

“Where the hell are you going with this?”

“Nowhere, I’m just saying you should be able to show her around. What did you think I was going to say? You’ll find love?”

Steve scoffed and looked at the younger boy through the mirror.

“Of course not. Remember, love is messy and full of crap that no one should have who deal with.”

“Right, whatever man. Just don’t make a fool of yourself.”

“Yeah yeah get out. Don’t you have a cat to feed?”

“Now that’s just low.”

Both pulled a face at each other as Dustin left the car. Steve watched him enter the house before sighing and starting the car again. “No, so not happening.” He muttered to himself. He wasn’t ready for love again. He didn’t need the commitment. Besides, he hadn’t even met the girl. What was wrong with him?

-

It was the following weekend when Steve received a call from Dustin asking him to pick him up from Will’s since his mum was out. He agreed but immediately regretted his decision when he arrived at the Byers’ to see Jonathan’s car in the driveway. A part of Steve had secretly hoped that he would be out because wherever he was Nancy wasn’t far behind. Yes, he was no longer in love with her but he still cared about her, and seeing them together felt like a punch in the stomach. Cursing himself, Steve reluctantly left the car and hoped that by some miracle Nancy wouldn’t be there. He didn’t need that tonight. It seemed as though his prayers were ignored when the one and only Jonathan answered the door with Nancy right behind him. Steve tried his best to not look deflated. The other two however could not keep the surprise off their faces.

“Steve, um hi.” Nancy started awkwardly.

“Did we have a group project that we forgot about?” Jonathan asked, genuinely confused.

“No, actually, I’m Dustin’s ride.”

“Oh, sorry of course! Come in.” Steve followed Jonathan inside, regretting his own existence. The three were still friends but there was still an unspoken awkward tension that they all liked to avoid. Steve was usually the one to remove himself from situations to avoid the harsh sting of lost love and jealousy.

“I was just about to make some hot chocolate for the boys, want any?”Nancy offered, to which Steve politely declined.

“And Lucas’ cousin is here by the way if you want to meet her?” Nancy led them into the kitchen where she was preparing the drinks. Steve, having completely forgotten about Lucas’ cousin, stood startled. He knew whatever feelings he had were unnatural and fake since he’d never met her, so why did he feel so nervous?

“What’s her name?” He asked Nancy and Jonathan, curious.

“Daisy.” A voice that was not either of theirs replied. Steve followed the voice and turned around. He heard Nancy introduce him to her, but he didn’t take any notice. He was speechless. Steve Harrington was speechless. No, he was mesmerized. Mesmerized by her brown curls, her rich, dark skin and her vibrate eyes. She took his breath away in a way no one ever had, not even Nancy. She was the most beautiful girl Steve had ever seen.

“It’s nice to meet you Steve.” Daisy smiled and offered a hand. Snapping out of his trance Steve returned the smile and shook her hand. “Likewise, Miss Daisy.”

Nancy then began a conversation with the girl and Steve helplessly watched her. He began to notice how her red top brightened the room, how she had a small gap between her front two teeth and how the lights bounced off her skin. He looked at her natural afro in awe. She was someone who stood out and didn’t blend in easy but wasn’t apologetic about it. During their time together Steve hardly said a thing, scared he’d come across as rude or arrogant. He wanted so desperately for her to like him and scolded himself for being so shy and intimidated when a voice at the back of his head perked up.

‘You’re King Steve, the man who can have any girl he wants.’

Steve quickly shunned the voice, shocked at his own thoughts. King Steve was no more, a facade of the past. Girls were not prizes to be won and no title or popularity status changed that. He shifted his gaze to Nancy for a moment and sighed. If King Steve were real, then he would have the girl. But no, he was just Steve. And just Steve would have to fight to get the girl and he didn’t mind. He allowed his eyes to go back to Daisy, still at awe of her beauty. His feelings must have been clear to see as Nancy looked over at him and was taken aback. She watched him look at Daisy with pure appreciation, almost love, and smiled to herself. She hated hurting Steve but she couldn’t ignore her feelings and hurt herself. Now she was happy with Jonathan and if she was happy Steve deserved to be happy too. Armed with a plan and six cups of hot chocolate, she turned to Jonathan. “Help me deliver these?”

He nodded and took three cups. Daisy and Steve offered to help but she refused. As they left the kitchen Nancy locked her eyes with Steve’s and unspoken words were shared between the two. Despite the look of love mixed with loss and regret in his eyes he understood what Nancy was doing and why. He knew, and gave her a smile and small nod. She smiled back.

Steve watched her leave before looking back at Daisy. She was preparing her own cup of hot chocolate, her back facing Steve. It was quiet but not awkward yet Steve longed to break the silence. Nancy had given him a chance and he did not plan to let it go to waste. He was trying to think of something to say when Daisy turned with two cups in her hands. She handed one to Steve and led them to the small table. “For you, mysterious Steve.”

“Mysterious?” Steve questioned, sitting opposite her. He’d been called many things before but never mysterious.

“Well you’ve hardly said a word since you’ve arrived and I’m curious.” She replies matter-of-factly.

Steve smiled and decided to take a risk. “It’s not everyday that someone’s beauty makes me speechless, and I rather enjoy it.”

He glanced up to see her reaction and felt his insides melt when she blushed. She looked adorable when she blushed. After bearable small talk Steve discovered that she’s visiting for three weeks to see her family. “So I’m guessing this is your first time at Hawkins?”

Daisy nodded and confessed her excitement but also her fear of a new place to him.

“Well, I could become your personal tour guide. I’ll show you the best places in town and tell you what to avoid.”

“Really?” She asked, not wanting to intrude on his life. When he insisted, she smiled and agreed. He smiled a pure, happy smile that made Daisy want to kiss him and die at the same time.

“We can start tomorrow, I’ll pick you up at eight.” Steve was suddenly filled with confidence which wavered as his offer hung in the air. He felt as if all the air in the room had left his lungs until she picked up her drink and smiled at him.

“You better mysterious Steve, otherwise my cousin will beat your ass.”

They laughed before falling into a comfortable silence. Steve smiled. For the first time in a long time, he was genuinely happy.

[high5nerd]

Alone Together---Chapter Twenty-three

Seven moah, and then it’s all archive stuff...I think?

Alice and I arrived back home around lunchtime, still getting used to the shining daylight that was lacking down in the lair. The heat waves were gone for the time being, but nonetheless the humidity was still slightly unbearable. Even the birds and forest animals were in a lazy manner, much like we wished we could be in. But we had to get home to make sure Sadie wasn't getting into trouble.

But when I saw Sandman sitting outside on the wooden bench with his head in his hands, that made me nervous at first. His pointy hair somewhat drooped towards his forehead, and he kept rubbing at his closed eyes.

"Is he okay? I hope Sadie didn't get into another argument with him." Alice nervously bit her lip.

"Ah, if they did they'll make up instantly. I'll let him in." I patted her shoulder gently and strolled over to the dream spirit.

"I bet she locked the door again." Alice rolled her eyes, a smirk on her rosy lips.

Sandy looked up once I stepped onto the patio deck, eyes bloodshot from...tears. As well as lack of sleep, but tears. That made my heart drop instantly. As a professional in bringing forth fear in every living being, it wasn't normal of me to become afraid of something. It happens, yes, but rarely.

But Sandy's face scared the shit out of me.

"Sandy? What happened?" my own voice shook.

He opened his mouth, as if he was going to vocally tell me, shut it, and leaned his head back down into his hands. Alice looked at me worriedly, before letting herself in and running down to Sadie's room. I sat myself next to Sandy and nervously glanced at his wringing hands and his almost heartbroken face.

"Is everything okay?" I asked again.

They...took her.

He wouldn't look at me. He was ashamed. Ashamed of himself….

Why I wasn't responding fast enough, I have no clue. Maybe I was too shocked that the Elders would actually go through with what they said they do to spirits who break the rules. But I knew that Sandy's predicament...I've never seen it in him ever. I've known him more than any other Guardian, maybe any other spirit, and never have I seen him like this. Ever.

Alice threw open the sliding glass door, her eyes wide with horror, "Sadie isn't here!"

I stared blankly at her, too shocked to react. She closed the door behind her, her hands shaking with fear.

"The Elders took her."

"Why?! She didn't do anything! We're to blame!" she angrily retorted.

I knew she wasn't mad at me, and was only expressing her absolute anger towards the Elders for taking her little sister, but that got me to finally snap. I abruptly stood up and snarled, "Five years we've gone unnoticed, you would've thought they'd notice right when I told you I liked you!"

"Oh my God," she ran her hands through her hair, panicking, "They're just like the mafia. They take someone we love hostage until we pay them."

They're not like that at all! Sandy looked up at her, horrified.

"Yeah they are! Why else would they kidnap MY sister because of Pitch's doing?!" she pointed a thumb at me.

That got me even more pissed off, "Hey! You're in this as well! This wasn't one sided, sweetheart, you're just as involved as I am!"

"It's illegal for you, not for me!" she shot back, her eyes becoming glassy.

Stop! Stop fighting! Sandy looked between us, getting more and more jumpy the more we shouted at each other.

"Oh yes, like dating a 'ghost' would be legal and sane, huh?" I hissed, folding my arms.

I SAID STOP FIGHTING! NOW! Sandy stood straight up and pushed us to gain our attention.

Alice and I stared at each other, realizing what we just did. She pursed her lips and looked at the ground, as did I. Sandy's nostrils flared as he breathed heavily, holding his spiky hair to gain some sort of control over himself.

After a moment of silence, I finally muttered, "This is my fault. I should've been more careful in protecting you and Sadie-"

"None of this is your fault, Pitch. The rule isn't fair, and you and I and Sandy know that. Even Sadie. Many others would agree." Alice sighed sadly.

"It is. Because maybe if I did something to prevent this from happening…"

A hand touched my shoulder, and I looked up to my left. Sandy apologetically looked up at me, and then down at his curled shoes.

Maybe...Maybe even if you did, it still would've happened. They're not easy to hide from.

"The moon sees everything…" I murmured, allowing Alice into my arms, who bit back tears in order to remain strong.

Sandy patted Alice's back sympathetically, If they're holding your sister...the only thing we can do is to go to the Elders and confront the situation. You can't escape this anymore...you have to face your crime.

"I can't believe love is a crime…" Alice whimpered, hiding her face in my chest.

I can't believe it either. It went from trying to save humans to being something utterly redundant, Sandy's face became hard, We should convince them to overwrite it.

"They're not going to unless Man in Moon says otherwise." I said, looking at him seriously while stroking Alice's hair.

It's worth a shot...right?

Alice said he did have a point. It was worth trying to convince them to dissolve the law, but the odds wouldn't be in our favor if we did. What the main mission was, was to retrieve Sadie and confess of my crime...and if I'm lucky enough, I'll be spared.

Sandy suggested we might as well hurry up and head to the North Pole while we can before the sun went down. We needed all the daylight we can. Alice chose to ride with me on the nightmare as Sandy drove his dream plane. 

The entire ride there was mostly quiet, and by the time we reached the cold atmosphere up north, Alice turned to me and asked, "Why the Pole? Isn't that North's domain?"

I nodded, "It is, but as courtesy to the Elders, he houses the Courtroom of Spirits in his palace. Mother Nature wouldn't house them in her domain despite being part of them but...you get the picture."

"...What if Sadie's hurt?" Alice's question was so close to a whisper I almost didn't catch it over the roar of the wind.

I kissed her shoulder comfortingly as Sandy's plane and our nightmare ride dove downwards, following the light of the aurora borealis. Despite Alice's wishes to see it in person, now wasn't the time to be engrossed in it's beauty.

"They wouldn't hurt her. To all spirits, it's by far forbidden to hurt a human, whether young or old. If they did, the case would be taken off my shoulders for the time being as they would be charged with treason."

Though now that I thought about it, Grim wasn't a very friendly person. He held a lot of grudges, especially against humans that avoided death in miraculous ways. If anybody there, Grim was the most likely to hurt Sadie. Maybe not intentionally, but it was still a factor. I didn't tell Alice that, for she was worried enough.

I had to prepare myself for this. It wasn't the trial that terrified me, but the thought of what the punishment would be. I heard from a rumor that in cases like this, the humans' memories could be erased. So all memories of me would be gone. Or maybe mine would be gone, and I would have no recollection of them.

God, what if I just disappeared? What if I was banished into a realm I couldn't escape until they released me? Alice and Sadie would be long gone…

Sandy flew in first through an open hatch in the ceiling that was used as the central cooling system for the workshop, and I bade the nightmare to follow him. Immediately, we landed on our feet firmly as sand of both black and golden showered like ocean waves around us. Alice moved close to me, glaring right at Destiny as if to challenge her to move.

They all stood there, serious and stone faced. North and the other Guardians stood there as well as witnesses, the only ones of the entire encounter that looked genuinely worried and broken.

"Hello...Father." Mother Nature said flatly.

I couldn't respond to that, but I didn't have the heart to look away. Mother Nature flinched at Father Time's hand on her shoulder as he gave her a look, "Not now, Emily Jane. First the trial, then your confrontation."

"Your sister was quite persistent." Grim commented towards Alice, who immediately panicked.

"What did you do to her?!" Alice yelled, lunging towards him but I held her back by her arm.

The Grim looked at Sandy, tilted his head downward in what could've been a nod, and then glanced back at Alice.

"No. None of us even laid a finger on her. Sandy was quite...spoken, about that."

My eyes widened in shock at the play on words and whipped my head around to stare at Sandy, who could only stare at the ground as if facing a scolding. Alice glanced at him too, not understanding what he meant by that, but knowing that Sandy went far enough to make sure Sadie wouldn't be in danger.

"Enough," North sadly interrupted, "Let's...let's get this over with."

…..

The Courtroom of Spirits was a smallish room, in a sense. The place where I stood with Alice and Sadie behind me was a perfect circle, the flooring of smooth, polished dark wood. The Guardians sat in pews level with us, but the Elders sat in extremely tall chairs, an imposing height to frighten the truth out of the people being questioned. From the left sat Mother Nature, Grim, Destiny, then Father Time, respectively. The lighting was so dimly lit, the only source of brightness was from the lanterns in the high ceiling that almost disappeared and the candles that sat on the small desks of the Elders.

"Pitch Black, King of Nightmares, formerly Kozmotis Pitchiner, General of the Golden Army," Father Time's voice changed to a booming tone than the raspy way he talked before, "You are brought here under the infringement of Cupid's Law. This law states that no spirit in any form shall be romantically involved with a human, and is strictly prohibited."

Yeah, duh. Why else would I be here? I wish I could've said that, but not in front of Alice and Sadie.

"What do you plead?" he asked, peering down at me.

I wish I could've glanced at Alice. I could feel her and Sadie's fear, and this time...I didn't like the feeling of it. I wanted to give them a soft smile that it would be okay. But it wasn't. They knew that.

"Guilty."

Mother Nature pursed her lips as Sadie whimpered, and I could faintly hear Alice hurriedly shush her.

Father Time nodded slowly, not expecting that I would openly state the truth. He looked to Destiny, who said in her echoing voice, "You plead guilty. If you knew you were breaking the rule, why would you follow through with it?"

My fists clenched tight at that, "Because the love I had for Alice was worth the risk."

Even Mother Nature looked surprised at my response. Grim appeared slightly impressed, but then shaded his face once more. In the witness pew, Tooth beamed at Alice, who shyly smiled back.

"May the first witness, Sadie Xaviers, please stand," Mother Nature called.

That surprised me. I didn't know she would be the first one called up, I would think North or Sandy since they were more informed than the others. The others just heard through rumors...I think.

Sadie was brave as she stood next to me. When she previously stood behind me, I forgot she was fifteen years old, but thought she was the ten year old girl I met when all of this fell into place. Her height almost reached my shoulders, and she stared straight towards the Elders, prepared for their questioning.

"How old were you when Pitch first became known to you and your sister?" Mother Nature asked, a little bit more gently than she was before.

Sadie's response was quick and to the point with full honesty, "I was ten years old, Ma'am."

"How did you and Pitch first meet, if you can remember?" Destiny asked.

Sadie quickly searched her brain before responding, "Pitch carries his duty of giving nightmares to children who sleep at night. But I wasn't. And I also wasn't scared, and I was the first child that didn't treat him like a monster, at least that's what he told me. He walked in through the shadows and was...shocked, to say the least, that I simply was talking with him."

"Did Alice believe in him at your first encounter?"

"No, miss."

Grim finally spoke up, "Did you aid Pitch and Alice in their relationship?"

"...Yes."

I wish I could've responded with a shout denying that, but even I knew that was right. She may not have gone great lengths, but she did encourage it. But that wouldn't put the burden on her shoulders, the Elders wouldn't do that to her.

Soon, Sandy's turn came. He stood tall, straightening his spine so he looked dignified.

Questions drilled out, like when he found out about the relations and if he's ever physically seen it as well. Things ranging from where, how, and why took probably about twenty minutes.

But when Sandy responded to Grim's question, that was when I realized that Sandy was...maybe...somewhat considered-and I awkwardly say this-a friend.

"Do you believe Pitch's and Alice's intentions are true?"

Sandy glanced at us, and smiled. Wholeheartedly. He meant every word that he loved her, and so did Alice about him. Honest.

The third was North, who told of how he pulled me aside when Alice and I came to retrieve Sadie from her little play date and warned me that it wouldn't work, yet I still continued with it. He didn't sound keen with the idea of us together, but even he agreed with Sandy that my intentions were good and that I was coming from a good place, 'for once.'...and that he might be able to forgive me.

The rabbit stood up, though didn't say much since he wasn't as well informed as the rest. He did tell of how a strong portion of hope came between Alice and I, and that was why he believes it would be wrong to destroy what we've created, because it would be destroying the value of hope.

Tooth shared the memories of Sadie's teeth that fell out while I was in the picture, and I was...quite honestly, honored by the happy memories that were shown.

Things from chasing a ten year old girl around the yard as she laughed and squealed, napping on the couch with her drawing on the floor of what I look like, to seeing Alice and I through the window out on the grass late at night (that little sneak!), and to the final memories of her baby teeth where they proved of my love for Alice when she would watch us laugh together and dance slowly while I kissed her hands.

Tooth closed the golden box and finished her testimony, "I side with Pitch and Alice on this. I know my opinion is not considered, but even the memories held inside show that what they've found in each other, what they cherish, isn't some fluke like Cupid did long ago. He really means it, and so does Alice, just as much. They speak the truth...and I wouldn't say this about the old Pitch," she looked at me, not smiling but still giving off a harmless, hopeful appearance, "I can see that he's changed. Alice has helped him, when no one else could."

It was silent for a minute when she sat back down in her seat, her wings still fluttering with leftover nervousness. North gently smiled at her for her bravery and she sent one right back, shyly. I looked back at Alice, who grinned. She didn't look so scared anymore. Still afraid, but less.

"Jack, you're our final witness. Do you have anything to add?" Father Time asked, staring at the winter spirit.

Jack blinked, looking surprised that one of the Elders actually addressed him. He was still considered a new spirit, a rookie, and sometimes new spirits weren't invited to speak in a court case like this. But this was an exception apparently, and it made me nervous. I gave the boy a hard time, worst than...no, just as worse as the others, and I don't think I officially apologized for my wrongdoings to him either. 

It wasn't like I was going to, saying sorry was hard for me to do. But also that a spirit who is an adolescent, and that adolescents hold grudges worst than Grim himself, terrified me that he would jeopardize this. One witness countering this and everything could crumble.

He stood up, keeping his staff sitting against his chair and not in his hands like he usually has it. He fidgeted with his sweatshirt before stuffing his fists in his pocket, looking back from me to the Elders.

"I...I don't know. I mean, Pitch and I have a bad history, and...I thought it would kind of ruin what I see going on now. I thought if he was brought here, it was because he would harm someone, like how he harmed us in the past."

That made me flinch. I couldn't bear to look at Emily Jane...Mother Nature, at his statement. I was afraid she would have her mother's angered face, or my disappointed frown.

"But he changed, just like Tooth said." he continued.

That made me look up at Jack, the hope refilling my heart. Alice turned to Jack, surprised, as did Sadie.

Jack smiled before continuing, "I'll never forget what he did. But I'll also never forget how he mended his ways and became a better person because of Alice and Sadie. I think...I think that it was good he broke the rule, because if he didn't...he wouldn't have found the goodness he has now, you know?"

Okay, you're not supposed to end a statement with 'you know' but thanks anyway, Frosty. I smirked at him, and he beamed back before sitting down.

I looked back to the Elders, who looked genuinely surprised that the Guardians supported Alice and I. With a slight nod from Destiny, Grim smirked and whispered something to Mother Nature, who made some sort of face of agreement. Father Time heard them and stood up in his seat, holding his hourglass to his side tightly.

"Alice Xaviers and Pitch Black, please step forth," Father Time commanded.

Alice stood next to me, and was brave enough to reach out her hand and touch her pinkie with mine. Immediately, I grasped her hand, feeling her relax a bit and gave her a quick squeeze before they could notice.

"We have reached a verdict."

[tiaraofsapphires]

Apoptosis- A Mass Effect Andromeda fic

Everyone wants human/angara babies after this fic but instead I wrote this...

Read on Ao3 here!

-runs for the hills-

Summary: Something goes wrong during a mission and Sara is left with a choice

Sara’s mouth tasted like copper. Someone—Cora?—was dragging her backwards out of the room, arms hooked around her armpits.

People were yelling. Angry, afraid, primal. She understood why, but couldn’t comprehend.

“He didn’t mean it—he didn’t mean it,” Sara muttered.

She could barely hear herself over the yelling and the ringing in her ears but she repeated it over and over, as if it would make it true.

It wasn’t his fault. It was hers. It had been a mistake going into the holding cell. It had been a mistake to go into that wing of the Nexus in the first place.

Everyone—literally everyone, even her own brother—told her to stay away. Eyes always soft, pitying.

It had been a day and the Tempest’s crew was in various states of recovery after the battle and Sara needed to make sure it wasn’t a dream. That it wasn’t some terrible nightmare or SAM’s idea of a cruel joke, forcing her to watch a simulation of what could happen. So she could be prepared.

But, gods help her, she could’ve sworn she saw Jaal in the kett’s eyes for a moment as the creature hunched in the corner of his cell. That flash of particular softness that he always reserved for her. The light she saw was like the one she’d see when he would stare at her when he thought she wasn’t noticing. It was a sad light, mournful. As if conscious of what he had become.

She had approached, closer, her mistake, heedless to the people at her heels telling her to stay away.

He was right there. She could see the light in his eyes. He was still there inside that shell.

Then a bony hand caught the side of her head, snuffing out that hope in an instant.

Jaal would never hurt her. This wasn’t him. It wasn’t right.

Cora finally released her in a deserted hallway. They both could hear the faint sound of a scuffle, of an unnatural and garbled voice.

The door to the cell would be shut again, likely not to be opened. They would throw food at him, likely. They didn’t know if kett could survive without food and Sara didn’t want to find out by accidentally starving him.

Cora was watching her.

Sara didn’t want to look at Cora. The older woman already thought her impulsive and immature even after the Archon. This incident was only another bullet point on the growing list of Sara Ryder-related screw-ups.

“Ryder—Sara. Go back to your quarters. Clear your head. There’s nothing you can do,” Cora insisted, all but shoving her in the direction of her quarters.

Sara’s throat worked around a lump. She wasn’t going to cry. She cried enough on the ride from the mission back to the Nexus.

Nothing she could do. That was the nth time she heard that and, even then, it didn’t make it any easier. She wasn’t going to cry in front of Cora, not again at least.

“Don’t let them hurt him,” Sara said, unsuccessful in keeping the waver out of her voice.

She wasn’t sure what she’d do if she came back and one of the Initiative had executed Jaal—what was left of him at least—without her knowledge. Tann knew there would be hell to pay if anything happened to Jaal on his watch, but would that be enough?

The memories of slaughter and battle were still fresh in everyone’s minds. There was no love for the kett on board, no matter who the kett used to be.

Cora smiled, but it looked forced.

“Got it.”

Sara turned on her heel and marched to her quarters. One foot in front of the other. Ignore the ringing and the swelling and the limp and the way each breath felt like cinders were floating in her lungs. She should’ve stayed in the medical bay for at least another hour before she left for the containment cells. The medi-gel was doing its work on the burns and lacerations, bandages sticky to her skin. She should probably go back to get her head checked out.

No. Stay the course.

The people she passed eyed her strangely. She wasn’t sure if she saw pity or fear or a combination of the two.

The lump forming on the side of her face and the bandages slapped to her neck and chest made her look like she got in a fight and lost.

She did, didn’t she?

Stay the course. She bound the shattered pieces of herself with glue and tape and pride.

In a span that seemed like an instant and an eternity, she was back in her temporary quarters.

The door slid shut behind her and she leaned heavily against it.

Alone. Alone, again. Even though SAM was in her head and Scott was awake and ever-concerned about her well-being, she was alone.

She had watched a thousand paths and a thousand futures burn to one. Jaal was kett. There was no future.

Her stomach lurched and she stumbled to the bathroom, gagging into the sink.

Sara wanted to break something. She wanted to rip and tear and burn until the whole damn galaxy felt even a fraction of the pain she was feeling.

She sobbed, eyes and throat burning.

She should have killed him outright, the moment the Exaltation had taken hold of him. All of the color and light on his body had been corrupted and destroyed before her eyes, as she screamed from where she watched.

Drack had Jaal pinned to the ground before she could think to move, towards or away from him. He had also killed the kett who had Exalted Jaal. She didn’t know when he did that, but black blood dribbled out of the blistered corpse. For a bitter moment, Sara had wished the kett had lived so she could’ve killed him slowly, bit by bit.

Shaking steps had brought Sara closer to Drack and Jaal. Her hands were tight on her rifle and her knuckles cracked. Jaal struggled under Drack. He cursed and yelled, the beautiful lilt of his voice gone.

Sara knew she should have killed him. A quick shot to the head and what was left of his soul would be at peace. Or perhaps he would be reincarnated. She knew that if he was reincarnated, he would be turned into something beautiful, just as he was as Jaal Ama Darav. And then, maybe, they could find each other again.

But she gave the order, locking Jaal in the tiny holding cell on the Tempest and not listening to anyone who told her that it was futile. And she wept.

She wasn’t sure if keeping him alive, dragging him to the Nexus, was an act of mercy or weakness.

What could the Initiative do for him, except keep him in a cage? He couldn’t hurt anyone, or himself. For all she knew, he could be trapped in his own head, slowly suffering and burning as his cells died and morphed and were corrupted.

“SAM, did I do the right thing bringing him here?” Sara asked aloud.

What kind of answer she was expecting out of the AI, she didn’t know.

“I do not know. My understanding of human emotion tells me that this was the correct course of action. Killing him would have caused an immense amount of emotional damage.”

Sara nodded at nothing.

Emotional damage. Yeah. She felt broken up enough while Jaal was still alive, technically. Guilt, grief, anger. All in one roiling mess.

How would she have felt if she had to kill him herself? This kett didn’t look like Jaal. The beauty of him had been destroyed. It would have, should have been easy, killing a dead man.

Her mouth shook.

It wasn’t fair. He sacrificed so much to get them to where they were, only to be turned into a kett soldier. Because she got to close, put him in the firing line.

The kett already knew that she was unfazed by the idea of her own death. She faced death three times, one time entirely voluntarily, and still marched on.

So, what did they do, but take someone she loved and irrevocably stole him from her. That was her punishment for what she did to them. For killing the Archon. For taking Meridian from them.

It wasn’t fair. This war took and stole from her. Her father, almost her brother, now her love. Hero, savior, with nothing to show for it.

Gods, how was she going to tell Jaal’s family? How was she going to explain this to Sahuna?

Sahuna treated her like a daughter despite the difference of species, and Sara couldn’t help but regard her as someone like a mother.

“What do I tell her?” Sara asked.

“The truth would be the wisest course of action. I think it would be cruel to withhold this information from her.”

Objective. Pragmatic. Two things that she really didn’t want to be at that moment.

“I don’t think I can do it.”

“Would you rather Director Tann tell her? Or perhaps Director Addison? Or one of their secretaries?”

Sara almost punched a hole in the wall at the thought.

She could almost hear the stiff-voiced message, a flat and empty message of condolences. An offer for monetary restitution—a small one at that—and a delivery of Jaal’s personal effects.

No.

“I am activating the vid-com,” SAM said, ”Will you contact Sahuna on Havarl?”

She swallowed, regretting bringing up Sahuna in the first place with SAM. But she knew that if she didn’t do it now, she would avoid it until Sahuna was the one contacting her.

“Okay. Call her,” she muttered.

She wiped her face and walked back to the vid-com in the center of the room.

Dread and panic grew like tumors in her stomach, choking the life out of her.

She wasn’t ready. But she never would be ready. SAM knew that. He was buried so deep in her mind that her thoughts might as well be his.

Time passed, sluggish. For a moment, Sara thought she wasn’t available and wasn’t sure to look forward to or dread that fact.

Her heart dropped the moment she saw Sahuna’s image. The fresh wave of grief almost bowled her over. She hadn’t realized the similarities between them, the angles of their faces, their smiles. Not until Jaal—until…

“Sara! How nice to hear from you? How are things? Is my boy treating you well?”

Sara never hated and loved that voice more in her entire life. The lilt and the genuine happiness clearly passed from mother to son.

She wanted to die. Anything to keep her from saying what she had to say.

“I’m sorry.”

The words escaped Sara’s mouth in a fractured squeak. What more could she say but to apologize?

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated, shaking her head, eyes trained to the ground. “Jaal—he—I couldn’t.”

The kett had pinned him, overwhelmed him. Sara had been too far away, but she had the perfect view, just enough so that she was in Jaal’s field of vision.

They probably meant it that way. They wanted her to watch the starry light in his eyes and the kindness of his face be destroyed.

“My son—is he dead?”

Sahuna’s voice wavered and splintered.

Sara covered her face and started to cry. Big, heaving sobs. Her hand went up to her chest, where a large bandage covered medi-gel and burn wounds. She pressed, pain threading through pain.

“No! They turned him! They fucking Exalted him. Now he’s one of them!”

She couldn’t hear Sahuna’s grief over her own. Sahuna wasn’t there during the fight. She didn’t see Jaal fighting and struggling to break free. He hadn’t been in a trance. He had fought every moment before the injection took hold of him.

He had called out Sara’s name. It was the last thing he said. Only love in his eyes, love for her, as his skin cracked and blistered.

“It was my fault. I should’ve protected him,” Sara cried.

Everyone told her that there was nothing she could have done. There were too many kett, too few Initiative. The kett had a plan, executed to near-perfection.

It all felt like a lie, a bunch of excuses. Sara was Pathfinder. She should’ve been better and guarded her own. She never should’ve let the kett separate them. That was when everything went wrong.

The one time she failed to be able to coordinate and organize, Jaal was lost.

“Where is he?” Sahuna asked.

Her voice sounded thick with tears.

Sara wiped her eyes, forcing herself to look at Sahuna’s image. The angara looked like she aged twenty years in 2 minutes.

How unfair it was to Sahuna. She lost her husband to the kett, now her son. Even with an extended family, it would be lonely.

Sara couldn’t fill that void. She wasn’t angara.

“He’s on the Nexus. In—in a containment cell. They wanted to kill him but I couldn’t do it. I threatened to quit and take SAM with me if they did anything to him.”

She tore into Tann the instant he suggested ‘putting down’ Jaal. In fact, she was probably an inch away from strangling him if she didn’t feel so tired and deflated.

If it was fear of bodily harm or fear of losing their human Pathfinder that stayed his hand, Sara didn’t know. She didn’t care.

As long as Jaal wasn’t harmed. Even though it wasn’t Jaal. The pieces of him that she touched and loved were gone.

She wasn’t even sure if she would have followed through with the threat of leaving. Without her rank as Pathfinder, what was she, now that Jaal was gone?

“I want to see him,” Sahuna said.

Sara immediately cringed. She didn’t want Sahuna anywhere near the Nexus or the cell. Sara knew what was there. It would do them no good.

“He isn’t there anymore, Sahuna. It will—you won’t see your son.”

There was no closure to be had, surely. Who they knew as Jaal wasn’t accessible anymore. The co-opted and reanimated corpse was only to be destroyed.

The two of them cried together for a long time, few words exchanged. There was nothing more they could do at that moment. They could only cry.

The tears abated after a while, enough for them to catch their breaths.

“Sara, my daughter,” Sahuna began.

Sara hiccupped. The question that seemed to repeat itself as they cried together was brought to the foreground: why was Sahuna being so kind to her? Sara got Jaal killed, at the end of the day that was the truth. To not be yelled at, to be treated to a soft word, to be still treated like family even though the link between them had been severed.

It was more kindness than she deserved.

“I will come to the Nexus.”

“Sahuna—,” Sara started, only to pause when Sahuna raised a hand.

“I will come to the Nexus. Not to see Jaal, but to see you. Angara—we comfort each other during times of loss.”

Sara opened her mouth to argue and then let it close with a click.

“Okay.”

She felt small, smaller than she ever felt before. She stood against monsters and among the traces of gods with a stiff spine and all it took a grieving mother to bring a Pathfinder to her knees.

Sahuna nodded. There was a ghost of a smile on her mouth. Sara wondered how long it would take for Sahuna to truly smile again.

“Stay strong and clear, my daughter. I will contact you soon.”

Sahuna’s image blinked out of existence and Sara wanted to call her back.

She wanted Jaal back, alive and whole. She could return to the holding cell and watch the kett pacing the cell and try to find Jaal somewhere. She could sit there and watch and watch. She could let herself waste away watching him.

“How do I find a cure?” she whispered.

Sara kept asking that question to anyone who would listen. And those were few.

How? How could she cure Jaal from this affliction?

Lexi had pushed that cold, hard idea—Sara couldn’t call it a truth—that Exaltation was permanent. She had told Jaal this, that his people couldn’t be restored after being Exalted. Sara knew that if she went to Lexi, she would receive the same answer.

But Sara couldn’t bring herself to accept it.

There had to be some way to bring Jaal back. Death didn’t stop her the three times it tried to touch her. Why was this any different?

What was all that different from Exaltation and death?

“How do I find a cure, SAM?” she yelled.

An answer. She needed an answer. SAM killed her and brought her back from the dead. Threw her into an unknown abyss attached to thread and yanked her back in the name of the Initiative, of survival.

She remembered death feeling like falling, but that was all she could remember. Maybe people aren’t meant to, aren’t able to remember what happens after one dies. SAM experienced death too, that day. SAM was becoming more human-like by the day. If he felt what she was feeling now, the gnawing ache of sorrow, maybe he would regret sinking so close to his human symbiont.

“I don’t know,” SAM answered.

His voice offered no emotion, as usual. That was one thing that the AI lacked.

For an instant, Sara was angry. That wasn’t a good enough answer.

But, ‘I don’t know’ wasn’t ‘there is no cure’.

There was some hope to be found in that. A flickering, weak hope at that, but still hope.

Sara wasn’t sure if SAM truly understood what love was or if he could experience it.  He had been in her head through it all. When she met Jaal, when she first kissed him, when they first made love under the waterfall. SAM was there during the confessions, the kisses, the sex, everything. It could just amount in his databank as a series of memories, unattached to trivial human emotions. Or maybe he learned something that no computer could teach it.

Regardless, Sara had a feeling that he would help her get Jaal back. Help her find and exhaust every possibility.

“Do you know where to start?”

“I have a few ideas, Pathfinder.”