#i almost NEVER tag anything unless its finished fics or graphics

[swordsmans]

hmhmhmm. if you will allow me a hater moment... it irks me when people put personal-ish text posts in character, ship, show, etc. tags. u dont need to tag your thoughts with every possible thing related to your thoughts... it's okay just to post for you and your followers...

[therenlover]

Red Nights In Jupiter (A Jimmy Darling/Reader Oneshot)

Synopsis: At the end of another long day, you fall into bed with Jimmy Darling. The men you served throughout the day don’t matter then, nor do the coins in the mason jar by the door, or the women scheduled to attend Jimmy’s next Tupperware party. No, in that quiet darkness it’s just you and the man you love, bone-tired and happy to be home. Who could ask for more?

Tags: Cuddling, Prostitution, Wound Care, Hurt/Comfort, Referenced Past Non-Con (it’s not Jimmy, don’t worry), Implied Sexual Content/Innuendo

Rating: 16+

Warnings*: Mentioned Police Officer Abusing Their Power, Referenced Non-Con, Jimmy Drinks A Beer, Non-Graphic Wound Care 

Word Count: 3000~

* - This fic includes a reader who is a prostitute and has recently been taken advantage of by a police officer in exchange for not going to jail. There are no graphic scenes and it's mentioned only a couple of times in passing, but the ending portion of the fic is Jimmy helping the reader recover from wounds (just bruises/scratches) they got during the incident. If this is potentially triggering, please steer clear!

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

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“How did the show go tonight?” You mumbled, mouth full of toothpaste.

“It wasn’t anything special,” Jimmy responded as you spit, “some dumb kids snuck in a couple of rotten tomatoes but their aim was shit. Nobody got hit, so I’ll consider it a success,”

The two of you stood shoulder to shoulder over the tiny kitchen sink in his trailer, clumsily going through the motions to wind down from an exhausting day. Outside the sky was a deep red. The last of the sun’s dying light shimmered over the ferris wheel as it made its last run, cutting through the muggy Jupiter air. In the last weeks of July, everything was sweltering. Even the walls of the little trailer were hot enough to leave a burn in the full heat of the noontime sun. Thankfully for you, as the sun receded so did the worst of the scalding heat, leaving behind a hot, wet, and thick fog over the nighttime landscape.

Jimmy finished washing his face while you rinsed your toothbrush. “Elsa and I were thinking that maybe, in the next couple ‘a years, we should invest in another ride. Not a ‘coaster, nothing huge, just something other than the ferris wheel that would keep the kids busy while their parents watch the show,” As he spoke, he wet a washcloth under the tap before wringing it out and tossing it over his shoulders. “What do you think, doll?”

“I think-” you held your tongue, your biting reply dissolving into bitter acid in your mouth, “I think that if that’s what’s best for the show, we should start investing sooner rather than later. It’s always best to be prepared so we can figure it into the budget ASAP,” With a practiced hand you bundled up your toiletries and tucked them away in the drawer. The shake in your tired digits was barely perceptible in the dimly lit room. What was best for the troupe was what was best for you. Still, you couldn’t help but sneak a gaze at the half-full mason jar sitting on the counter by the door.

“You sure?” Jimmy asked. He was down in the mini-fridge now, pulling out a can of some cheap beer. You closed your eyes and offered a curt nod. There was no need to argue over an impossible dream. If Elsa wanted a new ride, she would get a new ride.

“I’m sure, Jimmy. I’m just tired,”

Thankfully, he accepted your excuse with a shrug, settling in at the pull-down table. “Whatever you say, sweet thing,” he cooed, “now get over here. I missed you today,”

You gave in to his request easily. After everything you’d been through over the last 12 hours, you weren’t about to turn down a little affection and attention from the man you loved. Your sunburnt shoulders stung as you clambered into Jimmy’s arms and allowed your face to settle into his sweet, sweaty embrace. His heart thudded under your ear, a steady quarter-note rhythm guiding your own soaring staccato down to normalcy.

Somewhere out in the field, probably in one of the other rusted-out trailers where your friends were settling down in their own nighttime routines, a radio buzzed to life. The sweet sounds of Paul Anka crooning his newest hit loosened your nerves. Over your shoulder, Jimmy took a long swig from his can.

“How was work?” you whispered. Jimmy set down his drink with a little more force than usual. One of his fused hands found its way into his hair. You both knew you weren’t asking about the show.

“I didn’t make much today, but I’m almost fully booked for Thursday. That’s the last party until next week unless the ladies want to throw something after church on Sunday. Wednesday we don’t have a show, so I’m all yours,”

His voice was tired, a departure from his usual confidence. This wasn’t Jimmy Darling the leader and performer, it was your Jimmy boy, the man who held your broken heart together with his unusual hands. You relished in the vulnerability, letting yourself nuzzle closer to his skin. He smelled like sweat and grease and cheap cologne but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It was him. That’s what mattered.

“I could take Wednesday off, Wednesday is never that busy,” you mused.

“Then we’ll go out on Wednesday,” Jimmy was jovial but not loud, dropping his hand down from his hair to rub abstract patterns into your back above the starchy cotton of your day dress, “I’ll take us down to the beach on my bike and we can have a picnic lunch by the ocean. I know a spot off the road that nobody would ever think to go to, it’s like a private beach we’ll have all to ourselves, and the guy at the deli owes me a favor so I can pick up sandwich stuff for cheap when I run in tomorrow. Maybe I’ll even spend a little extra a grab a bottle of that white wine you like. How does that sound, doll face?”

You hummed out an affirmative, far too deep into your newfound relaxation to form words. Your boneless, half-lucid state made Jimmy laugh. His smile only fell when he found a fresh bruise on your back, making you wince.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, pulling his hand away. You whined at the loss of contact. It was rare for you to have the time to wind down together these days, every second of attention was something to cherish.

“It’s just a bad bruise,”

In an instant, Jimmy had you straddling his lap to face him with your face in his large hands. “Did somebody hurt you?” he asked, running a thumb over your cheek to check for concealer or any small cuts and bruises he might have missed, “‘cause if somebody hit my girl I’m gonna have to show them what’s what. I don’t care if they paid, they don’t get to do that shit to you,”

You couldn’t help but avert your eyes, letting your gaze linger on the veins bulging in Jimmy’s neck instead of his face. It would be too difficult to risk seeing the disappointment in his eyes. “It was a cop, Jimmy. I got busted,”

He groaned. “Those bastards…”

“Thankfully this time he just took what he wanted and let me off with a warning. He’ll be back, though, they always are. I’m sorry, Jimmy, I’m just so tired,” A shudder wracked your shoulders, a silent sob you couldn’t quite choke down. You had to take a minute to remind yourself that you were safe. Jimmy had you. You were tucked away from the world in his arms, and he’d kill someone before he let them do anything to hurt you. Nothing and no one could touch you as long as he was there. When he wasn’t, though…

You gripped his thin, white undershirt a little tighter.

Jimmy was with you, not some stranger who had picked you up off the streets for a little fun. You were at home in your caravan with Jimmy and he was holding you and nothing else mattered. There was no reason to be afraid.

He gritted his teeth. Obviously, your distress wasn’t as invisible as you wished it was. “Don't be sorry, doll, this isn't your fault. You know what? You don’t have to go back out there. There are plenty of other ways we can make the money, sweetheart, just say the word and I’ll make it happen. You never have to deal with them again,”

“But the new ride-”

“To hell with the new ride!” Jimmy was shouting in earnest now, but you weren’t afraid, pushing yourself further into his touch. Part of you liked watching him come to your defense. It was something he would only do for someone he loved, someone who was a part of his family, not just any horny housewife that used him to chase their own desires. “Your safety is so much more important than a new ride a couple years down the line! I’ll go tell Elsa to scrap the idea right now if that means you feel better. You’re the most important thing to me, Y/N. You say jump and I say how high. I’m not gonna force you to do anything, if you choose to keep working I have no right to stand up all high and mighty and tell you not to, but if you do wanna stop… I guess what I’m sayin’ is that I want you to be happy, and if I have to pick up the slack for you to do that then so be it,”

You were cradled against his chest again by the end of his schpiel. Your anxiety wasn’t quite as bad as it had been before, and the newly fallen darkness added a sort of buffer to your feelings. Everything was fuzzier in the dark. In that place past dusk where the problems of the word lost their sharp edges you let yourself abandon everything that scared you during the day. Children were afraid of the things they couldn’t see by moonlight but you relished in the anonymity of the night. Life was much scarier by the light of the sun.

“Thank you, Jimmy, I mean it,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his palm before pulling away from his touch, “but we both know I can’t quit,”

“But doll, I-”

“No buts. I bring in more in a week than the troupe makes in a month, not to mention that I get half the essentials for the mess tent at a discount from customers who are sweet on me. Someday, and that day can’t come soon enough, we’ll have enough saved up to get out of here, but until then we both just have to do whatever we can to make that future a reality,”

Jimmy nodded, draining the last warm dregs from his beer and tossing the empty can into the trash. “I just hate thinkin’ about you standing out there alone while those assholes look at you like a piece of meat,”

“I get by well enough,”

“I know you do, but you can’t blame me for worrying,” In a moment of drowsy bliss, you let a soft yawn escape your lips. Jimmy grinned. “Are you fallin’ asleep on me?”

You offered him a loose, gummy smile. “Maybe a little,”

He was quick to sweep a well-muscled arm up under your knees, lifting you up bridal style. You let out a small shriek of surprise. Jimmy didn’t let that distract him, though, as he carried your wriggling form over to your shared bed before setting you down with a low chuckle. “Now dollface,” he said, pulling off his sweat-damp undershirt and the washcloth that had been resting on his shoulders, “you up for a little bit of the Jimmy Darlin’ magic tonight, or would you rather just cuddle?”

“Can we just cuddle tonight? I’m still sore as hell. That asshole cop had me up against a brick wall and didn’t exactly take the time to lighten up his grip when I started to bruise,”

Jimmy nodded. “I tell you what,” he said, running a fused digit over the top button of your dress, “first let’s get that dress off you, then I can rub on some of that arnica gel we got as a gift from the new girl last month, alright? She said it helps with bruises. Once you’re all taken care of, then we can cuddle,”

“That sounds heavenly,” You smiled up at Jimmy as you unbuttoned the front of your dress, easily sliding out and discarding it as he changed out of his work jeans and into some thin cotton pajama pants. Your bra came off last, and much to your surprise your beau didn’t spend much time ogling you, instead turning quickly to go recover the ointment from the shelf in the bathroom.

From your viewpoint on the bed, Jimmy looked like Adonis. He was always handsome, sure, but you loved how the moonlight hit his bare back, revealing each plane of thick, workers muscle as it caressed his skin. As your eyes fluttered closed, you could almost feel the ghost of his body above yours. The radio across the field was still droning on outside the window. In your bed, watching Jimmy putter around the trailer and listening to the fuzzy music that drifted in from the outside, you felt complete for the first time in a long time. There was only one thing left to do that could make you feel better.

“Jimmy,” you asked, “tell me about the future?”

He turned to you with a sigh, the glass jar of arnica gel in hand, “Doll, I’m no Dr. Seuss...”

“Pleeeease, Jimmy,” you whined, “for me?”

It didn’t take anything more for Jimmy to give in. “How could I ever say no when you ask so nicely,” He sat down at your side on the bed, nudging you to roll onto your stomach and give him access to your bruised and scraped back. As he began his gentle probing of your wounds, he started to talk.

“Once we save up enough money,” he whispered, scooping up some gel from the jar before rubbing it into a particularly tender purple spot, “we’re gonna get out of here. You and Ma and me will find a nice little house somewhere with some land, and we’ll be happy there. When we get there, I’ll find a job somewhere where people won’t gawk at me. I can work construction or grow produce in the yard, and you… you, doll, will finally get to rest. You can stay home with Ma, cook, sew, read; you’ll never have to sell yourself on the streets again,”

You squirmed under his touch. “Now tell me about the kids,”

Jimmy groaned. “Really?”

“They’re the best part!”

“Alright, alright, because you won’t stop buggin’ me I’ll talk about the kids, but next time I’m down and out after a fight you’d better return the favor. I expect you to talk my ear off about all the sinful things I wanna hear while you’re busy holding a steak to my eye,”

You grinned. “Since when have I ever let you down, Mr. Darling?”

“Not once, sweet thing,” he pressed a soft kiss to the back of your head before going back to focusing on your flesh, now doing more of a massage on the less marred areas than anything else. “Now where were we?”

“The kids, Jimmy,”

“Oh right, the kids!” You let your eyes drift closed as he spoke, relishing in the feeling of his hands against your skin. Every moment in his arms was heaven. It was a real shame the rest of society didn’t see him the way you did, but it kept any potential competition away, and for that you were grateful. Life without Jimmy would be like baking with no sugar; just plain wrong. “Once we have our own place and the money is coming in, I won’t have to waste my pocket change on rubbers anymore. I’ll get you nice and pregnant and then, after nine months of getting looked after by yours truly, you’ll finally have your own little Darling, yours an’ mine. Won’t that be a sight? A little Jimmy Jr. runnin’ around in the yard, absolutely spoiled rotten by his grandma. I dunno much about bein’ a good dad, but I sure as hell know what not to do. No matter what the child ends up looking like, I’ll be there every step of the way. Who knows, if you and I get real busy we may have a whole brood of Darling children before long,”

You wanted to offer up some sort of placation, a witty reply, but you found that your tongue was too heavy and your eyes were drooping lower by the second. It was cooler now that the moon had started her ascent into the night sky, cool enough to stay comfortable with the little air conditioning unit in the window running full blast. Suddenly, the bed shifted next to you as Jimmy screwed the top back onto the jar and got up to return it to its shelf.

“Hey, Jimmy?” you called, voice thick with exhaustion. He was quick to respond, slotting the jar into its place and stepping out of the dimly lit bathroom to check on you.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” you said, rolling onto your back and getting comfortable on top of the sheets, “I just wanted to say I love you, so much,”

Jimmy was back at your side in an instant. “I love you too, doll. I dunno what I ever did to deserve you-”

“Oh stop!” your words were slurred now, dripping from your lips as you watched Jimmy climb into bed. You found your place at his side quickly. It was muscle memory to link your leg with his and set your head on his chest no matter how tired you were. "You're the most handsome, wonderful, perfect man I could have ever asked for Jimmy Darling, and don't you forget it!"

“It’s time for sleep now, doll,” he whispered, burying his face in your hair and wrapping his arms around you, “There’s plenty of time to talk about how wonderful you think I am in the morning,” The smile on his face was clear from the tone of his voice, but you heeded his words, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep while he protected you from the rest of the world.

Things weren’t perfect. You would still wake up the next day and watch the man you loved leave as both of you sold your very bodies in search of an impossible dream for the future, but that was okay. As long as Jimmy was by your side, everything would be.

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a/n: I hope you enjoyed this fic! I intended for it to be a short drabble where I could practice writing for jimmy, but in the end I’m really happy with how it turned out. This is, genuinely, something I’m really proud of, so please let me know if you liked it. Thank you so much for supporting me!!!

[lovesickjily]

present: me

Summary: When Lily Evans is assigned to be a stranger's Secret Santa, she has no idea that by the end of the night, she was the gift that James Potter had wanted the entire time.

give me some love on ao3 or ffn

okay hi merry christmas!!! sorry this fic may sound a bit rushed, but i really wanted to finish this by christmas and i did it? i hope you all enjoy xxx

There were, as Lily speculated, many feelings that people felt when it came to the topic of Christmastime, a time in which everyone showed their love towards friends and family through the gifting and receiving of presents that consequently caused them to end up with so little money that would bring Santa to tears.

Feelings of mirth and joy were expected on the holiday that foresaw snow, but frustration? She didn’t expect any of that days before Christmas.

It wasn’t that Lily hated watching her bank account come to a horrible decline during this season, because the one thing that she absolutely loved more than receiving gifts was buying them. She revelled in watching the eyes of such gift recipients, especially when they lit up like a Christmas tree, and it made her money deficit well worth it.

With Mary, who was known for her embodiment of the concept ‘the more the merrier,’ it was easy to find a gift for her, whether it was one based on sentimentality or one where the price tag had been taken off of it, Mary accepted anything and everything, so long as it wasn’t unattractive in design and form. With Petunia, who was one for the traditional gifts, it wasn’t difficult to find an expensive vase from online that appealed to those who prided themselves in outdoing every single one of their neighbours. She bought an expensive watch for Petunia’s husband, because it seemed like a good gift simply because of the price. Whether he decided to sell it or keep it was honestly up to him, though she hoped very well that it wouldn’t end up rotting in one of his sock drawers.

Now, shopping for a stranger was something entirely on its own.

She’d no idea what Remus had been thinking to invite her to a party where she knew only one person and was even more confused when everyone was assigned a person at random to bring a gift to. From the conversations in the group chat that she had been added to, she could tell that everyone else knew one another well enough, if one could conclude from the jabs that ‘Prongs’ and ‘Padfoot’ continuously sent towards one another.

Eventually, that chat was put on mute, and she’d told Remus— as well as Sirius Black, who was apparently the host of the party— to inform her of any updates about the party. Asking the latter, it seemed, had turned out to be a poor decision on her part, because it seemed as if his sole intent on living was to pester her to the point that she often found her finger hovering over the ‘block contact’ button, only to stop since he unfortunately was the host. There was also the fact that clicking such a simple button was probably exactly what he wanted, and she was definitely not going to let this stranger win.

The last thing that she wanted was to show up in front of his house and be greeted with an infuriatingly cocky on his face.

On the other hand, the first thing that she wanted now at this very moment was to know what exactly to get whoever this ‘James Potter’ person wanted for a gift, but asking Constellation Boy only resulted in responses such as “He wants you for Christmas” with an absurd amount of winking faces.

If she was to browse the Internet in search of gifts to give to strangers, what if there was the chance that he was also her Secret Santa and was on that very same website?

No, she was going to put her utmost creativity into this gift, whatever it may be.

The only question was how she was going to do that.

She couldn’t exactly throw some sentimental value into it, not when there was no sentimental value to be thrown in the first place, but she didn’t want to at all give him something cheaply overdone, like an expensive bottle of perfume or wine. There were rules about gifts, and there was unanimous agreement that one should never get a person such items for Christmas— that is, unless their name was Vernon Dursley.

It was in these moments that she’d taken advantage of the annoying group chat— currently named “Jingle My Balls,” and she could bet all the toys in the world on who had decided to name it that— to scour for any valuable information that could give her an idea of what James Potter had an interest in.

Deer, it seemed.

Lots and lots and lots of deer.

She couldn’t understand his obvious fixation for deer and its venison counterparts, but she sincerely hoped that Remus wasn’t acquainted with someone who prided himself in the slaughtering of deer just for the fun of it. It could help to explain his ridiculous nickname, and she’d almost roped herself into believing that Remus Lupin was the only sane one in their friend group, only to learn that he had been named for a reason that could only be related to the act of mooning.

If she were to get James some sort of food for Christmas, it surely was not going to be of the venison sort.

Perhaps she’d bake cookies for him and call it a day, but they didn’t last forever, not unless he decided to preserve it for reasons unbeknownst to her, and she wanted to create a lasting first impression on him.

James Potter, what in the world could you want?

Could he be interested in pottery, if one could go by his last name?

Obviously, she wasn’t going to put minimal effort into his gift, and he obviously was far from a Petunia, so a ceramic vase— no matter how expensive it was— was just not going to make do. There was nothing wrong with homemade items, and she’d actually greatly prefer homemade objects over the store-bought pieces.

Perhaps…?

Hopefully, he’d love what she had planned for him.

The final obstacle remaining was that she’d never in her life taken a pottery class.

+++

There was a difference between going all out and doing exactly what it was that this household had seemed to do when it came for Christmas decorations.

Lily liked to think that she fell in the former category, having decorated nearly every inch of her flat with pretty fairy lights and a giant Christmas tree in the corner of every room, and even the bathroom contained a small Christmas tree resting atop the counter. Tinsel lined the tops of the mock fireplace in their living room, and in every part of the flat, there was some Christmas decoration of some sort.

But this house— mansion?

It was on a completely different spectrum of its own.

The front lawn seemed as if it had taken everything that could be seen in the Christmas outdoor section featured at every store, and in places where snow hadn’t fallen, fake snow was used to create the illusion that the place was a magical castle in a kingdom where winter was eternal. There were, of course, a line of deer made entirely out of lights lining up the pathway, and at the very end stood a dog made of lights and a pair of antlers atop the animal.

If she had any doubts about whether or not she’d come to the right place, then these doubts were put at ease.

“This is the place,” she said to Mary, though it came out more as a question rather than anything else.

“The one and only.”

“Are you sure we aren’t— I don’t know— planning a heist? Following the plot of the Bling Ring?”

“Maybe next time,” Mary said nonchalantly, “But I don’t see why you should when you’re being offered free food here. Remember, stay safe, and please bring me a plate of whatever food they have there.”

With one last look, Mary gave her a reassuring beam as she bent down to begin her search party, as her phone had fallen off of the dashboard and slid off to who knows where. It ultimately meant that she was going to dawdle in the car for an unreasonable amount of time because she didn’t want to step out into the cold so quickly, as it was just characteristic of Mary to do stay in her comfort zone for as long as she deemed possible. It was for that reason that Lily decided to knock at the door before the frosty air could hold her captive as well.

The door thankfully opened quickly, and amidst the sweet smell of cookies and all the positivity that embodied Christmas, she caught sight of, well, reindeer. It wasn’t off-putting that it was reindeer. It was off-putting that it was reindeer. Atop each other.

She wasn’t being subjected to real-live reindeer, of course, as they were graphics that appeared on the sweater of some bloke bold enough to wear it to the party. If the sweater hadn’t had the reindeer engaged in such an illicit act, it probably could have been a lovely sweater.

They could have matched, actually, because she was wearing a sweater similar to his, the only main difference being the fact that her deer were nowhere near one another, and hers was mainly black while his was mainly blue.

She felt her eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the sight, and she blinked twice. “You must be James.”

She’d finally managed to tear her eyes away from the deer to look up at him, and she’d nearly fallen onto her knees at the fact that he was so attractive to the point that he absolutely had to know how attractive he was. It didn’t help that there was a pair of antlers atop his head, and they only served to draw attention to his messy hair, hair wild enough to make her thoughts wander off into territory that they shouldn’t have stumbled upon in the first place.

And then her gaze flickered right back to his sweater, where the reindeer seemed to be mocking her.

It was only then that he’d been able to somewhat redeem himself when he opened his mouth, and how how how could a voice be equally as attractive as his physique?

“Yeah? What gave it away?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You’ve got reindeer fucking on your sweater.”

He let out an embarrassed laugh, and she couldn’t help but notice the way his cheeks pinked at her observation. He let out a soft sigh. “I can’t believe the prettiest person I’ve ever seen in my life knows me as the bloke who wears sweaters with graphics of reindeer procreation. I swear I’m being forced to wear this right now.”

Her shoulders sagged in relief. “I was beginning to feel concern for you, a stranger. I still do feel concern, actually. I assume it was Sirius who put you up for that?”

He nodded grimly. “We made a bet. Signed a contract to wear it if I lose and everything.”

“I’m so sorry that he’s disgraced deer like that. No one should ever involuntarily wear clothing that display any form of animal procreation.”

Her words seemed to have some sort of a strong effect on him, and he began smiling so wide that she could make out a dimple growing on the left side of his face. He opened his mouth to respond, when a piercing voice rang through the air, as if the evil form of Father Christmas had awaken to fill all of their stockings with coal.

“Close the fucking door, you fucking—” There was, of course, only one person whose voice that could have belonged to, and her eyes met grey, comprehension growing in his eyes as he realised who she was. “Fuck. Close the door. I’ll be right back.”

“Sirius,” she said simply.

“Unfortunately,” he replied, and he looked out towards the car, “Is your friend coming in?”

Lily regarded his question with little interest and shook her head. “She’s just dropping me off.”

He nodded in acknowledgement. “You’re Lily, right?”

“Unless you were expecting the actual flower, that would be me.”

“I’d say you came to please, then. You’re just as pretty as one.”

She didn’t know what to say in response, because it wasn’t as if she was unconfident in her looks, but it was the mere fact that he’d managed to flirt with her twice in the span of a few minutes. “You can definitely do much bet—”

She was cut off by the sound of heavy footsteps once again, and Sirius returned with something green in his hand. She already knew what it was without even having to get a close look of it, if the deep sighs coming from James were of any indication.

“Padfoot, I swear if you bloody hang that over our heads—”

“That’s quite presumptuous of you to think that I’m trying to incite non-consensual kissing between strangers.”

“Then explain why you’ve got mistletoe in your hand.”

Sirius hung it over his own head. “I’m doing everyone a favour by giving all of you permission to kiss me, the one and only Sirius Black. This is a one-time offer, so I’d say you should take advantage of this opportunity.”

Lily concealed any feeling of disgust that he’d stirred up from his horrible offer, because she came to this party with absolutely no intention of kissing anybody, let alone Sirius, who she honestly thought couldn’t possibly be a horrible person and that his way of texting merely gave off strange vibes. Perhaps he wasn’t a terrible person in the sense that he was decent enough for Remus to befriend, but, as she’d already known long before, looks gave no clue of how a person was on the inside.

“Right, so where do I place this down?” she asked instead, holding up her present that she’d wrapped carefully.

“Don’t know about the box, but you could place yourself down on James’s—”

“Beneath the Christmas tree should be fine,” James had cut in, and he placed tentative fingers on her shoulders, to which she felt warmth spreading throughout her body, “Here, I’ll show you where it is.”

“It’s right there—” she began, but upon realising that he was helping to whisk her away from Sirius, who looked as if the being who he’d successfully been able to bag was Death itself— what with his pale skin and body covered head-to-toe in all black, save the small bit of his red shirt peeking out from beneath his leather jacket— she stopped herself. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem.”

It was a problem, actually, because she thought she’d resolved every single one of her worries when she’d finally finished making his gift for him, but she’d been far too busy dwelling on making it so that he would enjoy his present that she hadn’t even stopped for a moment to consider that he might actually fall under the category of men that seemed to make her heart do backflips. And when Sirius was unsubtly running around with mistletoe in his hands, it was obvious that both her and James were to be subjected to uncomfortability, similar to the way people wanted celebrities to date one another on the basis that they were both attractive people.

She didn’t speak her thoughts, instead choosing to plaster a smile on her face, which in all honestly wasn’t at all difficult to do, not when the interior of the place was just as festive as it was outside. The tree stood taller than any tree that she could have ever put up at her flat, and it must have taken a painstaken amount of time to decorate all of it. At closer inspection, she noticed the tree had a good number of ornaments containing images of who she assumed were either James or Sirius at different stages of life making funny faces at the camera.

“Don’t judge,” he said from behind her.

“Oh, I can assure you that I’ve expected no form of normality in this household since you’ve opened the door.”

He grinned at her. “Yeah? Have my expectations been up to par, then?”

“Somewhere up there,” she allowed, “Though, I don’t think there’s too much pride you can have in how stranger perceives you, especially when it’s on the low end of the metre.”

“I take immense pride in that, for your information. I’m taking it as a good sign, since you’ve yet to pelt an ornament at me.”

“I’d say you’re going to only have good signs, then. I, contrary to popular belief, do not pelt ornaments at people.”

“I’d pelt an ornament at any idiot who would believe you more than willing to do such a thing.”

She couldn’t help the laughter bubbling from her lips at his words, and it seemed that he took great pride in getting a laugh from her, because her actions had spurred him on to smile just as widely. Somehow, he’d managed to find a way to be such a dork while still simultaneously coming off as charming.

The ring at the doorbell snapped them out of it, and he flashed her an apologetic smile. “Duty calls— rings? Dunno which word is more fitting, but I’ll have to go greet the other guests. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“I’ll remember to not pelt any ornaments during the wait,” she smiled, and it only served to make his dimple greet her once again as he grinned.

“I knew you’d understand.”

With that, he left her to her own devices. Someone— most likely Sirius— had begun blaring Mariah Carey, the spirit of all things concerning Christmas, and if that didn’t add to the strangeness of it all, she didn’t know what did.

She placed the gift down carefully beside a red gift bag decorated with white snowflakes, and it was quite possibly the most normal sight she’d seen in the house so far— perhaps the only normal sight she’d be seeing for the night.

It was, most definitely, going to be a long night.

+++

For a place that could have possibly housed an entire army, there weren’t as many people as Lily had thought would show up.

There were so much more than she could have expected.

She’d thought that they’d only invited their inner circle of friends if she were to judge from the small number of people in the group chat, and so it would be a complete understatement if Lily said that she thought that she’d feel completely out of place in a room where inside-jokes populated the conversations. It seemed that James, who was the owner of this house— or at least one of the owners, seeing as his parents had been away on a business trip and wouldn’t return until the week of Christmas— was just as surprised as she was by the amount of people showing up.

It seemed that somebody had decided to pass on the message that anybody who learned about the details of the party was invited, and at one point, James literally had to lock the door so as to keep people out, but when Sirius had brought up the point that people could easily climb in through the windows and over the fences, his efforts were rendered futile.

It would be an absolute miracle if the neighbours didn’t call the cops on them.

Sirius, once one got over his many bouts of inappropriate behaviour, was actually a somewhat hilarious person who, in a way, seemed to understand her. It wasn’t her fault that her eyes kept wandering over to James, who’d taken to putting a pillow right over his chest so that he could cover up the cursed image of the reindeer, because she still couldn’t fully fathom how a person could be so attractive without doing anything even remotely interesting, and it definitely wasn’t her fault that Sirius was ribbing her for it.

Sure, Sirius was the conventional type of attractive, but when someone like James was there, Sirius was merely a rock and James a diamond.

It didn’t help that everyone— save for James— was painfully aware of her staring. She felt shame welling up inside of her, because she knew all too well that there was so much more in a person than their appearance, and she herself hated when people merely saw her as nothing more than how she looked. Now, though, she was doing the exact same thing she was entirely against, only, it was with James.

She didn’t even know him that well, and as much as she’d like to say that she’d spent the majority of her time conversing with him, she knew that would be an absolute lie, as she had barely talked to him since she’d greeted him at the door. She’d caught glimpses of his personality through the texts that he sent to the group chat, and she’d be an absolute liar if she wasn’t at all intrigued by his mannerism and himself as a whole.

She wanted to learn more about him, learn about his strange fixation with deer, learn everything there was to know about him, like if he was really the type of man her parents would have liked to see her walking down the aisle with: the type of man who made her completely and utterly happy.

Sirius leaned over to her, because of course she would be the one to end up sitting beside him, even if for just a short period of time. Of course he would, yet again, pick up on her stares. “You can’t fuck if you don’t talk to each other first.”

“I’d say in some extreme cases, that would be a complete lie.”

“I’m prone to agree, but since that idiot has only had unsuccessful dates this entire year, I’m obligated to step up. You’d make his entire bloody new year.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t exist for the sole purpose of making one single person happy.”

“Of course not, but we all know how you’ve been fucking James with your eyes, so spare yourself of wasted time and sit on his lap. He wouldn’t protest.”

“I’d protest,” she replied scathingly, “And he’s talking to his line of admirers.”

‘Talking’ was a word being used loosely here, because he seemed to be the only person speaking, having gone on about a story about himself from when he was younger. It seemed that he’d been engaged in a conversation with Remus earlier, but after the first three women came from nowhere, Remus had left him alone with them, and so he’d been forced to conversate with them, unless he fancied being found in a ditch the following day. She could already sense his discomfort from just the way his smile seemed permanently glued on to his face.

“To cut the conversation short,” Sirius began, feeling no sense of empathy for his mate, “You’re holding back.”

“I didn’t come here for you to play matchmaker.”

“But little do you know,” Sirius sighed.

“Pardon?”

“What?” Sirius asked, “You’re forgiven.”

“I’ve absolutely no reason to apologise—”

“There’s always a reason to apologise. For one thing, you’re stealing me away from the other guests. Everyone needs an equal share of Sirius Black—”

She blanched. “Right, well, that’s already enough incentive to walk away from you right about now.”

“That’s the spirit,” he replied, “Repulsion is the first step to a blossoming friendship. Let me be best man, if that isn’t too much to ask.”

“You didn’t even ask.”

“You didn’t offer. I’ve got to take matters into my own hands.”

She scoffed lightly at him. “It was nice meeting you formally, Sirius.”

“Not sure if that’s sarcasm or if you’re being genuine, but either way, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

She had to hand it to him; she wasn’t sure just exactly what he was capable of, but if Sirius Black was ever handed the opportunity to take over the world, he’d turn down that chance just to find his own means of world domination.

She watched as he walked over to the group with James, said a few magical words, and the next thing that she knew, Sirius had taken the women off of James’s hands as if they were moths and he was a flame.

What she hadn’t expected, however, was to see Sirius pushing James directly towards her, and it seemed as if he was a reindeer soaring through the sky, but the metaphor suddenly seemed unsuiting when she found him crashing right into her.

Or, nearly crashing, and she could already feel how awkward it would have been if he’d fallen atop of her, what with their bodies right up against one another and his face merely centimetres away from hers.

In reality, though, Sirius’s pushing was merely a light shove, because his arms just weren’t strong enough to move somebody across the room and acted only as encouragement more than anything else.

“Hello, hi,” James said, and he sent a glare towards Sirius, “We meet again. Your reindeer are still living in solitude, I see.”

She couldn’t help the smile growing on her face. “I see yours are still going at it. Do they ever stop?”

“Right? It’s quite rude to all the guests around here. They need to find their own time and place to make love.”

She nodded. “They are domestic animals. I expected much more from them. Do you want to go somewhere more quiet? Mariah’s gotten a bit annoying after the first five rounds of All I Want For Christmas Is You.”

“Sure, as long as it’s not for the purposes of love-making. I’d like to at least take you out on a date first.”

“Then, to your room?”

“If you insist,” he joked, and she felt her lips curling upwards once again.

+++

“Why the fixation with deer?” was the very first thing that she’d asked once they’d entered his room. She’d noticed that his devotion to Christmas only seemed to continue on behind the privacy of his door, as even the bedsheets had been changed to mimic Christmas. There was, of course, a Christmas tree in the corner of his room, and rather than the small ones that some people put, the tree was of average size. Beneath the tree were the gifts that were brought for the Secret Santa ceremony, which James had relocated in case any of the uninvited guests had decided that it would be a good idea to snatch them.

She made herself comfortable on his bed, patting the space beside her to motion for him to sit down, that she wouldn’t falsely made accusations at him if he got too close to her. He chuckled at her question. “Its antlers look like a crown, and we both know that I am the most majesty being in the world.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes at him, because though she hadn’t known him for that long, seemed like such a him thing to say. “A real answer, please.”

“You’d laugh.”

“Only if it’s funny.”

She watched his lips rise at the corners. “I took a quiz about what my spirit animal would be, and I got a stag. That’s what made my interest stagnant, I’d say.”

She unceremoniously let out a huff of air. “You made that pun on purpose.”

“Ah, don’t tell me you don’t have an appreciation for puns.”

“I have an appreciation for the funny ones.”

“I’m actually so offended right now. I’m not funny?”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that you’re funny. Your puns are the ones that need some work.”

“It was hilarious.”

“For you perhaps, but since you base your pride on the beliefs of strangers, your opinions don’t seem to matter in this scenario.”

“Oi, my puns are the greatest, thank you very much. I think your opinion is skewed because you’ve been too distracted by the reindeer fornicating on my sweater.”

She laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re laughing, which means that I am completely and utterly hilarious.”

“If you say so,” she sang, “Will you pelt an ornament at me so as to convince me otherwise?”

“Violence is never the answer. I’ve other alternatives, like begging and pleading you to please fuel my ego as it so desires.”

“I’m sure looking in the mirror gives you enough fuel to last the entire week. Month, maybe.”

“Are you calling me handsome?”

“I’m certainly not calling your puns funny.”

“I don’t know whether I should be turned on by the fact that you think I’m attractive or off because you think I’m unfunny.”

There was something in his tone that made her think that he was edging near the former option rather than the latter, and the manner in which his breaths were coming out more slowly was even more of a signal that he wanted something to happen between them just as much as she did.

“Maybe,” she started, and her fingers began moving up his thigh, inching upwards until she was cupping his chin, feeling the light stubble on his face, “We could reach a com—”

She was cut off by the sound of the door bursting open.

It was, of course, Sirius, who looked unsurprised at the sight of them on the bed together. “I’m going to assume that I interrupted you lot, but I’d say that you deserved it, because both of you were too slow to jump the other first thing when you laid eyes on each other.”

“What do you want, Padfoot?” James grumbled, and he removed a hand from her arm, which she hadn’t even noticed had been on her person.

“A lot of things, actually.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. Perhaps the eggnog that they’d served had gotten to his brain, if the alcohol that he’d dunked into the Christmas drink hadn’t done so already. “Anyway, we need to open presents. Oi, you lot. We’re opening presents, and no, that doesn’t include me.”

Sirius clapped ostentatiously to attract everyone’s attention, as if his random outburst hadn’t been heard by perhaps the entire neighbourhood. “We do not need a hearing aid for a present this Christmas,” Remus said as he walked in, and he regarded his mug of eggnog with disdain, as if it was Sirius in the form of a liquid.

It seemed that Sirius had already gathered all of the people who were involved in the ceremony, as a few other people walked in afterwards, and only Peter seemed sympathetic enough to flash them a look of apology for intruding on them.

“Never said anything about a hearing aid,” Sirius replied, “Maybe you need the hearing aid.”

“After your outbursts, I reckon we’ll all need hearing aids. Calm your arse, yeah?” James put in, and Lily felt that had the opportunity arisen, she most definitely would have paid to hear more of his lovely voice.

“He’s excited for presents,” Peter Pettigrew added, “I’m excited.”

“Don’t tell anyone, but I made sure that no one got Pete for Secret Santa,” Sirius drawled, and Lily whacked him lightly with a nearby pillow.

“That’s completely unsuitable for the occasion.”

“It’s fine, Lily,” Peter started, “He says things like that all the time. I’ve built an immunity to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to tolerate it.”

“If this helps,” James began, “I was your Secret Santa. Your present is the one with the gold wrapper, because I use only the finest materials.”

Peter scrambled up to grab the present as described, and this was more or less how it had went on, with everyone having an unspoken agreement on who could throw the most jabs at each other. Sirius was, unsurprisingly, Lily’s Secret Santa, and he’d thought it hilarious to include a gag gift in with the real gift— a pink scarf and an insanely giant framed picture of himself. It went on to show that the size of a present truly didn’t make it a good gift, and she’d have to find some open space in her closet to hang the portrait up on. It would have been quite rude of her to not put up the portrait.

Annoyingly enough, Sirius was completely and deliberately delaying her from giving her gift to James, and when the time finally came for her to give James the concrete embodiment of her hard work and effort, Sirius again was unsubtle in hiding his motives. She took her previous thoughts back. He could definitely not conquer the world, no matter how hard he tried.

“I’ve going to take a sh—”

“If you finish that last thought, I will throw you out the window,” Remus threatened.

“Remus and I will be going— actually, no, let’s all go together.”

“I am not going anywhere near the bathroom with you,” Remus interjected, looking aghast at the prospect.

“You’ve no choice—”

“I always have a choice,” Remus replied, and Lily had been looking on with such amusement that she’d been a bit surprised when he turned towards her, “I am so sorry for his behaviour.”

“I am so sorry that you’ve had to endure him for, what was it, the entirety of your life?”

“That’d be about right,” Peter cut in with a nod.

“I can’t believe you’re all ganging up on me.”

“You can’t honestly expect to intrude upon James and I for open gifts, only to unsubtly leave us alone when it’s time for James to open his present, can you?” she asked Sirius.

“That only makes it even more fun for him,” James said beside her, “And I’d rather they leave now than never.”

“You love us.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get out, and I’ll see about that.”

James, at that point, had taken to escorting them out of the room, and with one swift motion, he closed the door shut and clicked the lock in place. He walked towards the tree, picking up the very last gift that remained before seating himself right back beside her.

“You couldn’t have possibly found a way to clone yourself, have you?”

She found her cheeks growing red, and she shook her head. “Not unless I also found some way to shrink myself.”

He smiled softly at her response. “It’s only that I think that the best present I’ve gotten so far is meeting you.”

“Honestly, if you don’t think that this will be the best present you’ve ever seen in your life, I’m afraid I’ll have to cut off all contact with you. I worked too hard on this gift for it to only be second to myself.”

She watched his smile blossom into something nearly as radiant as a flower at her words, and he shook his head, looking a bit bashful. “Nothing could ever beat you.”

His hands drifted down to the bow that she’d tied on top of the box, slowly pulling it off, and she was glad to see that he was not one of those monsters that destroyed the wrapping paper in order to get to the gift faster. He did the action with some speed, though he was being awfully considerate in not tearing it either, and when he did accidentally make a small rip, he let out a small apology to the paper, as if he was hurting it.

Her heart only moved quicker at that action.

When he opened the box, pulling out the mug that she’d been putting all of her painstaking effort into creating, he let out a nearly inaudible gasp at the sight. He scrutinised every inch of it, and his face didn’t even once diverge from amazement, even when there was so clearly a mistake in the way she’d made it.

“You made this?” he said inconceivably, and she nodded, “How could anyone make something so bloody nice? Fucking— you’re so talented.”

She knew that his words were making her face turn so red that she had to be the living embodiment of the colours of Christmas now, because it was one thing for him to compliment her appearance, but it was something completely difficult when he was praising her work.

She’d made him a ceramic mug, having used so much of the patience that was a gift she could never have gotten from anyone other than her parents and the universe.

She’d done all of it herself, even going the length of digging out and cleaning her own clay in the back of her yard because it would take far too long to ship clay to her home, and on the side of the mug, she’d painted, of course, a reindeer.

He placed the mug down onto his bedside table and took her face tentatively in his. “Can I—”

“Please.”

He smiled widely at her, and with that, he pressed his lips to her, the taste of the eggnog he’d prepared filling her senses. There were so many things that she’d imagined to happen when he’d gotten his gift, which included— but was not limited to— him simply thanking her, or, had he turned out to be a malicious person, would have slammed all of her effort onto the ground, effectively splitting the mug into a million pieces.

She didn’t realise that she’d end up kissing him. She didn’t realise that she’d love kissing him.

There was something so tantalisingly sweet about the way he was holding on to her chin and something so utterly desirable about the manner in which he was kissing her. It wasn’t too slow or too fast, and it wasn’t even helping that her heart had taken to soaring throughout her body as if it was a shooting star, sending wonder towards every single one of its witnesses.

She’d found it too much of a coincidence that he’d end up being the person who she had to get a gift for, found it too much of a coincidence that she’d wind up being added to a group chat in which everyone but her was close with one another, and—

“Oh my goodness,” she said against his lips, and she pulled away, her eyes opening so that green could meet gold.

It was not a coincidence.

“Are you all right?” he asked her, and the way in which his glasses were skewed only added to his confusion.

She nodded. “It’s just— aren’t you peeved?”

“Peeved?” He looked more perplex. “About what?”

“We’ve so obviously been set up, and it took me this long to realise it.”

“We’ve been…” he repeated, and he blinked once, then once again. “What?”

“It’s so obvious now that Sirius set all of this up so that we could meet. Don’t you—” Her eyes widened slightly when his cheeks flared up, signifying that he knew something. He knew something. “James.”

“Right, yeah, I didn’t realise that this was a set up until after you were added to the chat, but I swear— I just thought that you were a cool person because you’re on the phone with Remus a lot. I didn’t think Sirius would take the initiative to do all of that. I— are you mad?”

Was she mad?

No, she didn’t think she was, or, at least she wasn’t mad at him.

“No,” she answered honestly, finding his rambling to be cute, “I’m not mad at all. I got to meet you, didn’t I? I think that’s enough compensation.”

“But we both agree that Sirius isn’t getting away with this.”

Her lips curled upwards. “After a few more rounds of kissing. And the sweater goes off.”

“I thought you were starting to warm up to it.”

“I could honestly never,” she laughed, but he complied anyway, pulling the cursed top off of himself. Her fingers lightly roamed over the exposed skin, and she found him kissing her once again.

There were many feelings that people felt when it came to the topic of Christmastime, but right now, all Lily could feel was joy.

There was also that small bit of wrath felt towards Sirius, but when joy was the dominant feeling, who cared what else she felt?

All she focused on was joy. Joy and joy and joy.

[ao3feedsamifer]

A Lesson in Pain, Agony, and Suffering

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2rtVjD8

by 48eyesand32teeth1sharptongue

They may always end up stuck together, but Sam is going to beat the Devil no matter what it takes. Sam loses a lot of battles, but he always wins the war.

Lucifer thinks Sam belongs to him and will do anything to keep it that way. However, he knows Sam's track record for beating him, and he's not taking "No," for an answer.

(Starts off sometime in the future, then kicks off after S13E21 and the timeline jumps around.)

Words: 17365, Chapters: 8/60, Language: English

Fandoms: Supernatural

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M

Characters: Sam Winchester, Lucifer (Supernatural), Jack Kline, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Kelly Kline, Other characters will be around

Relationships: Lucifer/Sam Winchester, Lucifer & Sam Winchester, Sam/Happiness and Sam/Curbstomping Lucifer and Punching him in the Face OTP, Very One-sided Lucifer/Sam, Lucifer/His Ego, Kelly Kline & Justice, Other endgame OTP is Sam/Freedom, Sam/Walking Out of Hell and Being Whole, It's mostly Sam/Lucifer for the majority you have been warned and disclaimed, Past Sam/Ruby but that was awful for Sam too, Sam/Jess but with a twist, past Samifer, but it was never happy because Lucifer is coercive, Kinda current Samifer, but Sam really is not happy about it at all, Side-pairing Dean/Castiel, but that is not the main focus

Additional Tags: Jack Kline & Sam Winchester Friendship, Sam endgame pairing is happiness but boy is it gonna be a long time to get there, Major Abuse, Rape, non-con, mind-rape, Torture, Psychological Torture, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Hurt Comfort Fic, mostly horror, Cage Trauma, Sam is not about this life, Sam deserves happiness but life is like nope, In Honor of S13E21, Major Canonical Changes, Semi-Canon Compliant except for the stuff I forget or deliberately change, Flashbacks, bi sam winchester, Gender-changing Lucifer, Lucifer is also Jess, Lucifer is Also Nick, Stalking and Pain, Also making Dean less abusive and toxic than canon or at least acknowledging it, Assumed Abusive John Winchester past references, Sam is Jack's biological parent in this, No technical Mpreg because it squicks me out, I don't know what else to tag this other than the title is a lot of what you get in this fic, A lot of torture in a lot of different forms, Mostly a horror fic with alternate endings and some fix it tacked on after the suffering, Sam was in the cage longer than he's lived and boy does that trauma show, Enochian, Conditioning, Horrible family dynamics, Lucifer chooses to be a horrible person and wants to use Sam anyway, Lucifer thinks he's in love but doesn't know or care about actually not being abusive, Toxic Jack and Lucifer relationship because Lucifer sucks, Kelly Kline & Sam, The power of friendship, Sam is a survivor, Maybe some Prince of Hell and White Eyed Demon resurrections if not related to time travel, Multiple Endings, Also Sam/Ruby mentions, Probably not explicit sex scenes or they will be implied but sparse because I'm bad at writing them, if this changes you'll know, When Sam is male presenting in the show he's using male pronouns, If Sam is female presenting going to change pronouns when convenient, OH ALSO Demon Blood Addiction, Angel Blood Addiction, AND A METRIC TON OF MANIPULATION, Lucifer wants Sam to love him and feels something, Gender changing Sam, Chuck can fight me, Probably time travel, Probably some reversed character deaths, Surrogacy, because nephilim birth body counts, Sam Winchester Has Powers, S13 Spoilers!, sam is just done, and barely holding on to reality, Lucifer pays lip service to the idea of redemption, but is too self-absorbed to actually change, Lucifer tries to be a Dad but has awful role models, nevermind his actual personality, Casifer, Lucifer is an awesome antagonist, I just wanted to write something extra painful, Sam working with Lucifer to fight Michael, even though he'd rather not, Non-Linear Narrative, Hallucifer probably will be mentioned somehow, Implied Sexual Content, Dubious Consent, some of their earlier S5 interactions will be different and less antagonistic, sort of, Lucifer's Cage, Sam Centric Narration mostly, But I might add Lucifer's perspective in there too, I can't believe I forgot, Stockholm Syndrome, yay, Sarcasm, also Kelly is Jack's surrogate mom, she still dies but might come back, also more s5 type lucifer, then character development, let's just say Lucifer is pissed his OTP seems in denial, and that they are defending humanity because lucifer, so that's gonna change canon a bit, but only slightly because stuff still seems to play out the same, watch me justify all my canon changes badly, Lucifer is like why don't you love me?, Sam is like have you seen yourself? Do you need an itemized list?, destroying parts of canon with fire through sheer laziness, Lucifer believes in Sam but doesn't want to, Lucifer takes the abandonment from God and latches on to dear life, to the person he thinks can't abandon him even if he tries because Fate, It would almost be tragic if Lucifer didn't treat Sam so bad, which negates all potential sympathy imo, Dysphoria, sort of ftm sam, but I'm not sure how solid gender is in this fic, because Lucifer is a genderless entity who just chooses to present as whatever is convenient, and Sam only has issues with the gender change when its magic, and inflicted against his will, because Lucifer thinks pregnancy will force Sam to be even more tied to him, and because he likes making Sam uncomfortable, because revenge for perceived wrongs, and disappointment, torture and murder and awfulness are not answers to life's problems, but Lucifer sure as heck is gonna try to make them, these tags could be a fic of their own at this point., also this is listed f/f because Lucifer and Sam switch genders in this fic, sam doesn't really care about gender too much, but the devil generally mirrors sam's gender unless there's an ulterior motive, because possessiveness and possession, honestly though Lucifer was going the Labyrinth Goblin King route in this, until Sam beat him and he had a tantrum, Possession, also Lucifer's MO is basically, everyone else: Lucifer no, and lucifer, canonically from every point ever: Lucifer yes, Majorly diverts from canon after I deal with S13 and the flashbacks, Sam trying to beat the Devil at his own game, Pseudo-redemption (except it fails for obvious reasons), Sam's level of hate and fear for Lucifer is canonical or even more, Plus past feelings, and past betrayal, Also Jack is a beautiful ray of sunshine, who also only deserves happiness, so him and Cas and Dean are gonna be trying to make things right, and maybe give a break from all the pain and suffering all the time, Trauma, All aboard the MAXIMUM ANGST TRAIN, Lucifer is like an Ex that won't accept you've broken up, Angels are also basically eldritch monsters, which is basically canon, Suicide Attempts, but we all know that doesn't work, also everything is this fic is completely out of order, until I finish it, because I can't write linearly at all

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2rtVjD8

[revwinchester]

Color The World - Chapter 3

Summary: Sam meets Jessica early in their freshman year at Stanford and his world is suddenly brighter.  When he loses her during their senior year, Sam’s life is plunged back into grayscale.  With the help of his family and friends, Sam starts to get his life back together.  He works and travels with Dean, restoring classic cars, and eventually meets Gabriel but struggles to let the other man in.

Author: @revwinchester Artist: @bluefire986

Pairings: Sam x Jessica, Sam x Gabriel; background Charlie x Dorothy, Dean x Castiel

Chapter Word Count: 1546

Warnings: Soul mate AU, fluff and angst (50/50 split), major character death, fire/arson, mention of suicide (no suicidal ideation, though), depression, internalized homophobia, cursing

A/N: Chapter 3!  This chapter is fluff with the tiniest hint of angst.  Since this is a bang, everything got posted at about the same time so you should check out the master posts here: 

Color The World - Fic Color The World - Art

I hope you enjoy it!

Sam and Jess quickly fell into a rhythm.  Most days they would meet for breakfast, part ways for their classes and meet up again for dinner, often surrounded by their friends.  Tonight around the table were the usual suspects - Sam and Jess along with Charlie, a spunky, nerdy redhead who Jess had met in a graphic design course, Kevin, who Charlie knew from orchestra and had dragged along the first few times because she decided that, with a double major in music and engineering, he needed to get out more and had found that he actually enjoyed himself, and Brady, one of Sam’s pre-law friends.  

Jessica was just sitting down with her cafeteria tray while the others were making plans for the weekend.

“Jess, tell Sammy that it’s ok if you miss out on one date night,” Brady demanded.

“Don’t call me Sammy,” Sam snapped back.

“I will not tell him that.  Not without more context, anyway,” Jess responded.  Thursday had become Sam and Jessica’s date night.  After their shared class, they would spend the evening together, just the two of them, unless Jess had to work, in which case they would get something to eat and then Sam would sit with her at the security desk while she checked keys and id cards and signed in the occasional guest.  Sam thought it was hilarious that she worked dorm security but, in reality, she was a glorified hall monitor.

Jess looked at Brady, waiting for the context she had asked for.  He was an interesting person.  He got along alright with the group but he tended to be demanding, especially when it came to getting attention or to getting his way.  Jess had been the only one who’d been able to get him to back down, so far.  

“We were talking about going camping this weekend,” Charlie explained.  “Brady wants to leave Thursday afternoon and get an extra day in, but...”

“But Brady and I have class on Friday morning, which he is conveniently ignoring,” Sam interjected.

“I’m more than willing to skip it,” Brady exclaimed.

“Since Brady doesn’t give a rat’s ass about his education, he can’t comprehend why I might care about going to class,” Sam shot across the table, “so, clearly my reason for not wanting to leave on Thursday must be something else and if you decide that we can leave Thursday, it’s completely settled, even though Charlie and Kevin haven’t weighed in on it at all.”

“All I’m saying is you can share Jessica every once in awhile,” Brady said with a slick smile.  

Sam was about to open his mouth again but Jess placed a hand on his thigh and gave it a squeeze before she beat him to the punch, “We can’t leave Thursday.  Even if you’re planning on skipping it, Brady, Sam has class in the morning on Friday and, if you had listened to your other friends over the past few weeks, you would know that Charlie and Kevin have an extra orchestra rehearsal this week in preparation for their concert and that rehearsal is on, drum roll please, Thursday evening.”

“Thank you,” Kevin murmured.

“Yeah, thanks,” Charlie echoed.  “I’d been trying to remind them of that since I sat down but when these two start arguing it’s almost impossible to get a word in.”

“You know, you and I could go out on Thursday night and everyone else could join us on Friday, Jess.”  Brady proposed, still with that smile, the one that made him look almost dangerous, plastered on his face.  He was going to be one hell of a lawyer, Jess thought.

Sam had had enough of Brady and slammed his cup down before standing up and walking out of the cafeteria, dropping his tray of mostly uneaten food at the dish station on his way.  

“Why do you push his buttons like that?” Jess asked, as she got up, too, and followed Sam out.

Brady turned back to Charlie and Kevin, who had their displeasure for him written clearly on their faces.  “Oh, come on, I was just joking!”

“Jokes are supposed to be funny,” Kevin responded, “and hitting on a guy’s soulmate right in front of him is never going to be funny.”

----

Jess jogged to catch up with Sam’s long strides and when she came up next to him, she slipped her hand into his.

“You know he just likes to get under you skin,” she said quietly after a few moments of silence.

Sam slowed to a stop and turned to her.  “I know.  I’m sorry,” he started but Jess interrupted him.

“Sorry for what?  For getting upset?  For having feelings?”  she asked.

“I’m sorry for how I reacted.  I’m not apologizing to him, but to you,” Sam explained. ��“I acted like I own you back there.  Storming out like that, basically forcing you to follow me.  He was driving me nuts and talking about spending more time with just you before you even sat down, lacing his words with innuendo and stopping just shy of actually admitting he wants to sleep with you and I couldn’t take it anymore. But,” he paused and let out a breath, “I definitely could have handled the situation better.”

“Sam, you didn’t force me to follow you,” Jess replied.  “Did you grab my arm and pull me out of there? No.  Did you even for a second expect that I would follow you out?”  She asked.

“No,” he whispered, “you should have stayed, hung out with your friends and finished your dinner.”

“See, you didn’t force me to do anything,” Jess looked up at him with a smile on her lips as she continued, “and you couldn’t, even if you tried, Winchester.  Besides, I don’t think he’d ever try something but Brady was making me uncomfortable, too.”  The pair walked in silence for a few minutes, Sam’s fingers lacing through Jessica’s.  “Also, I really wanted pizza tonight, anyway.”

----

Over the next few days, Brady apologized.  Sam didn’t think it was particularly sincere but the man had mostly backed off of Jess so he figured he’d take it as a win.  They didn’t end up going camping that weekend - the group had come to an unspoken conclusion that it would be way too tense for that - but they did find themselves at a horror movie marathon at a local arthouse theater.  

Sam and Dean had loved these kinds of movies as kids and Sam, being the curious kid that he was, had spent hours upon hours reading about vampires, werewolves, and other monsters and then explaining to Dean how to kill the different creatures the next time they watched horror movies together.  

Jessica, on the other hand, was gripping Sam’s hand so tight that he thought he might have permanent indentations where her nails were digging into his palm.  Her face was buried in his shoulder, except for the times when she decided she wanted some popcorn.  She blindly reached over toward Brady, who was sitting next to her and had been holding the popcorn he was sharing with Jess and Charlie, who was seated on Brady’s other side.  Rather than finding the popcorn, Jess ended up with a handful of Brady’s crotch.

She pulled her hand back quickly and muttered an embarrassed “sorry.”

“If you wanted to hold onto me instead of Romeo over there, you only had to ask, Jessie,” Brady whispered.

Sam and Jess shot him matching glares.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” he said, actually managing to look repentant.

----

Sam, Jess, and Brady went to the orchestra concert together.  None of them were sure of what to expect - Stanford wasn't exactly known for its music - but Sam and Jess were pleasantly surprised. Kevin played the cello and was so intense about it that Sam was fascinated watching him. Charlie was in the percussion section and looked like she was having the time of her life.

Brady, on the other hand, apparently had been expecting the San Francisco Philharmonic and was sure to let Sam and Jess hear about his disappointment after the concert, though he half heartedly praised the orchestra when Charlie and Kevin joined them in the lobby.

Sam was starting to wonder more and more why he had brought Brady into the group in the first place. He had seemed like a nice guy at first but his sense of entitlement was getting on Sam’s last nerve. Not everyone grew up with rich parents who took them to the opera and symphony or who were bankrolling their education.

Sam was pulled from his thoughts by Charlie's squeal. “Yes! That's perfect, let’s go!”

Sam followed the group, unsure of where they were headed. They stopped outside of a familiar building and he smiled, apparently Kevin had suggested they go to the new barcade that had opened near campus. It had everything an average bar would have, drinks, a pool table, and darts, but it also had old school arcade games lining the walls and it was 18+ on weeknights, so they could get in despite not being of legal drinking age, yet.

They spent the night playing Pacman, pinball, and some racing game, along with watching Charlie destroy anyone who would dare challenge her to a game of Mortal Kombat.

Next Chapter

All tags are posted with the master post for this one so that no one got inundated with a dozen tags in a matter of minutes when this went live. :)

[libarygoldfish]

Dead until you awake - Hamilton fanfiction, Ghost AU (Chapter 1 )

Author :

I really want to post this fic somewhere and have it back up on some part of the internet. This is a collaboration between me and my dear friend Trinnie. I love it with all my heart. So please don't insult our work if you somehow found it and read it.

Rating:

Warning: Major character death, graphic violence

Category: M/M, F/M, Multi

Fandom: Hamilton (Lin Manuel Miranda)

Characters: Alexander Hamilton, Charles Lee (Li), Ling Li,

Relationship: Alexander Hamilton & Charles Lee (Li), Karin Simons (OC)/ Charles Lee (mention/post)

Additional tag: suicidal character, drug use, accident, embarrassing violation of privacy, parental issues, college failure, teenage pregnancy, attachment issues, etc

Chapter 1 :

Alex raises a middle finger to the man who drove him and his wet carton boxes to his new accommodation. It was a makeman following orders from Mr. Schuyler, helping Alex one final time before closing all his doors to the Schuyler family. Great. Another way to rub it in his face that he was never part of it anyway.

He looks at the small townhouse with its yellowing front yard and spider-webbed windows with a sigh. It is unbelievably cheap and strangely free of any negative feedback. Once Alex thought he had seen somebody said the place was haunted, but then the comment was deleted within an hour. Seems like the website has a good filter with spam content then.

He knows for sure he’d feel very alone in it. Such a big home for no one but him. Alex normally would get angry at this moment, angry at Eliza’s impassive expression and the way she gladly turned from him with a hand on her slightly swollen stomach. He’d get angry if he has the energy for it.

But he doesn’t. Everything is taken away from him: his education, his job, his girlfriend, his child growing in her stomach, and now his anger. His life is a spilled glass of water. And he wants to break the glass.

The floor squeaks when Alex starts carrying in his boxes. As if there is a second pair of feet walking with him but Alex pays no attention. He observes the heavily hanging webs across the furniture and upper corners, almost like thin veils of invisible brides. It’s a nice place to die, nobody will probably find him for a long time.

He wonders if the bottle of bromethalin rodenticide will be painful once Alex gathers enough courage to use it.

He enters the bathroom and is happy to see the taps still work. But the old water leaks a color brown and he leaves it open until it looks safe enough. The bedroom seems to be less dirty other than a few webs scattered on top of the neatly made blanket covering the bed. He simply flings it to the floor and lies down, closing his eyes for sleep to naturally come and claim his idle, unenergetic body.

Ten years, this is his 10th year stuck in this awkward position. He hasn’t get out of this haunted house since 2008. Everything seems to get bigger and fancier over this decade, but he’s still that 21 years old Charles Lee. He thinks while remembering what it was like when this new kid moved in a week ago.

People who rented this house would always move out before their one year contract reached an end. They would curse at the owner through texts, trying to leave a comment on their website, or even collecting evidence about him. They have never succeeded to get any attention, you can see their plans fall apart by those new ones filling into their empty spots. Nobody knew that being noticed was harder than they imagined.

Take this new roommate he has as the example. This ponytail-teen seems to be ignoring his present from the very first second. This boy, whose name clearly is Alex based on his email account and how most of his friend address him in that flat-touchable phone. “ Alex” hadn’t even seemed to notice he have a ghost roommate. No matter how much noises and signs he makes with every part of the house.

Shaking window? Alex simply gives it a glare before he continues his meaningless small paragraphs ( who even would spend that much of the time to debating on a website that you can only type 140 words ? ).

Disrupting the signal so that the youtube site would play a video which screams out his name? His emotionless new roommate only texted what happened to a guy named John.

Not even with his best trick that makes everyone “ realized” they have a nonhuman roommate. Alex, or more correctly, one of the worst roommate he ever had in this house ( Burr won the worst place easily, but this guy feels worse than him in a way). Charles can’t believe he just wiped those words off without a flinch, those words he spent hours and precious energies on… what a monster he is facing here.

And a monster deserves to be treated like one, he has to use that forbidden way to communicate with Alex.That way he hadn’t had a chance to do since 2009.

“Hi, Alex, I’m your ghost roommate Charles Lee. Can you please pay more attention to the fact You HAVE a roommate and he’s NOT a human? How can you possibly ignore every sign I gave you? Anyway, please stop ignoring my present cause I… really need your help on something important... please stop pretending you saw nothing, or I will keep typing on your thin computer and that flat-touchable phone. ”

He types down everything he wants to shout into Alex’s face while the boy is writing another long paragraph about something he doesn’t give a fuck. All he needs is this asshole to notice him, and at least do something about it.

Honestly? Comment section fighting is now the only thing that keeps Alex alive. It’s small and unexpected, but Alex had nothing else to look forward to when he goes to bed every day. It drags him out of bed, although he only changes places by sitting on the dusty desk. Still, progress is progress. Even if it’s tiny and insignificant.

Alex hasn’t even cleaned the place ever since he came here. If he’s going to die very soon, why bother cleaning it? He remembers he once was the most hard-working employee and what did it cause him? His education. Maybe his sanity is also out of the question. Which is why he’s seeing the pointer blinking and blinking as the keyboard types on its own. Alex raises his hands away but the stream of words continues nonetheless.

“Hi, Alex, I’m your ghost roommate Charles Lee. Can you please pay more attention to the fact You HAVE a roommate and he’s NOT a human? How can you possibly ignore every sign I gave you? Anyway, please stop ignoring my present cause I… really need your help on something important... please stop pretending you saw nothing, or I will keep typing on your thin computer-“

Interesting. But this says nothing. Alex thinks this website has such an interesting AI to respond to him. He thought AI’s would never admit they’re not human. Unless they have come up with a roleplaying model, then that’s very understandable. He decides to give it a try.

He simply types back. “Why should I pay attention to this non-human roommate? If he’s staying, isn’t he obliged to split the ownership payment with me?”

“Why should I pay attention to this non-human roommate? If he’s staying, isn’t he obliged to split the ownership payment with me?”

Can a human be more… insensitive about what just happened to him? On his computer? Charles Lee is certain that he made those keyboards typed themselves in a normal human’s eyes. Are the technologies really that advance right now? But things are still going by his plan, this one is still communicating with him.

He dislikes how this new human has no respect or fears toward him...but he remembers how great a human interaction felt like, and how much does he miss it.

So he continues sucking up battery power from Alex’s strange computer while writing down his reply to explain the situation. Jokingly trying to convince his new roommate why he doesn’t need to pay the rent.

“Are you really asking why a ghost doesn’t need to pay rent? …

Here’s why I don’t need to pay anything. First, I don’t need any place to do anything I need to. For example, I’m sitting in the same spot you are now, in a thick layer of dirty blankets. do you feel my weight or anything on you? No? great. See my point?

Second, this is MY house. Well, technically my grandma’s now, cause I leave it to her after I became a ghost.

… Should I start proving I’m a real ghost now like those weird comedy movies? “

He crosses his leg after he finished the reply, saving some additional energy he got from touching/possessing Alex’s device. Today seems to be a bit, no, so much fresher than these ten years (not physically, of course, his house is still dusty like a winter storm). To have another person to truly communicating with is… unbelievably happy. Not like he doesn’t enjoy alone time and watching others living their own lives. He’s dead, he shouldn’t have any desire to be and live like other humans. He should be moving on from this.

He won’t be one of those people who can’t move on.

Alex blinks. It’s a bit harder to tell if this is an AI that hacks into his computer or not. But then he remembers the writing on his mirror. The way his video game specifically chanted over and over in a demonic tone.

Definitely a ghost then.

“Are you a ghost of a Revolutionary general?” Alex now asks aloud. He tries not to feel stupid. But then he’s seeing a blurry silhouette, the glitchy motion around this figure.

Could it be that the more he believes in this being, the more of it he would see? Alex recalls the theory from an old movie he saw.

He opens up a Word document and types in.

“How did you die? Why didn’t you go to the afterlife? Is there an afterlife at all?”

[Fin-fucking-nally!] Charles shout out after hearing Alex’s questions. Feeling terribly happy about his new roommate’s recognition of his identity. He starts typing out his replies after calming down from that shouldn't be existed excitement.

“ That would be cool and sad if I’m from the 18th centuries. But no, I’m just a regular college fuck-up from 10 years ago. “

He can't help but imagines how terrible would it be if he's here since 1776, that kind of ghost is definitely one that can’t move one, 10 years isn't that long when compared to centuries of existence.

He continues typing in his reply after thinking about them for a few minutes.

There’s nobody to tell him can he tell a human that or not… But since this isn't a classic horror film interaction, why not telling him about it? Not like it and privacy matters that much anymore.

“ Wow wow, slow down my dude, that's some... long-story-short questions you just asked. But before I answer any of those, I need to know would you help me out or not first, a simple yes or no. Because, you know, those questions are awfully personally to a ghost, to a stuck one like me.

Alex shakes himself awake at that reply. It’s been a week since he moved in and Alex hasn’t gone outside at all; he didn’t eat much and is still counting on the fridge stock. He hasn’t interacted with anyone, which may have caused him to forget very basic manners. He forgot he has just asked someone, a former human, how they died.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to offend you. What do you mean by “help out”? What will this help entail? I pretty much have nothing to do for now so time’s not a concern.”

Alex smiles bitterly at his own reply. Time was something he never had before. He enrolled in college with an unbelievable amount of financial aid, his name too innocuous for filtering. After that, he learned that uni had never been the highschool endgame, the movie ending he imagined. No, it was a storm of progress.

He balanced between study with finding enough dough to feed himself. It went well until Alex was wrought with illness after spending 14 hours a day outdoors in January running errands. He lost precious time for his work, his study and was brought into the care of one Eliza Schuyler. She was doing Meds but helped out her Nursery friend who couldn’t attend her practicals. Eliza was drawn to his hard work and scathing humor, the way his speech naturally flaunts.

She just didn’t know that the downsides to him were sleepless nights, a frayed mind and a man desperate to rise above his station.

She realized too late when her belly swelled and she had to hide from her sisters by staying over at his place 24/7. The nights she couldn’t sleep with his desk lamp on and the cackling of his keyboard, her feet aching which prevented her from seeking relief from the morning sickness. The way Alex tried to do work from home to tend for her needs went underappreciated. They were sketched in different shades of pencil gray, smudged in terrible condition. Both missing schools, both not working enough to sustain themselves and both miserable. Both failing uni and there was no salvation but to retake the year. Scholarship ripped away from Alex and his chance of regaining a similar one is a number with many zeros behind a dot.

One of them had a family to fall onto, the other did not. And he would never do. And he will soon make a child fatherless with the bromethalin waiting in his bag like a ticking time bomb.

He stands up from his former position, taking few steps to face that kid who smiles bitterer than how he should in his age. Not like he’s that much older than him, but he knows what other kids look like at his age, at least how they look like at 2008. Replying him further with a sarcastic tone between his sentence doesn’t sound like a good option at this moment. Charles decides to write his answer with a different kind of tone he was planning to use.

“ Non taken, it was good enough that you are curious than furiously trying to kick me out…”

He remembers the first few families who seem to care about him at first. Our little girl has an imaginary best friend, they said. How cute, he like a dog just like her, they awed. He wants her to let him be IN her body, they screamed. Totally ignored is the reason behind his intention to possess her, only looked into the things that conquered over their minds. Most humans who didn’t get scared treated him like a pest. forgetting who is the real owner and who’s the new *guest*.

“ ...that help relates to my afterlife. To answer your one of your question, Yes, the afterlife does exist. Even though I haven’t been to my own afterlife yet. But I can feel it... like that company you always want to get in, but you just not qualified... ANYWAY. I, clearly still stuck in between. This means I still haven’t moved on, I still have regrets I NEED to fulfilled… I know we just start to know each other for couples minutes, it’s fine if you don’t want to help me at all. “

He tries to look Alex in the eyes, saying out the help he needs while typing it down.

“ Can I… Possess you? And maybe borrow your thin-Computer for a day. I just need to find her, I mean, finish that things I can’t leave behind … I won’t overdo it, of course, even I know too much possession can kill a human. “

Alex blinks and rereads. Blinks some more. Traces the line with his finger. So his battery level has decreased almost by half. He quickly imagines how being killed by this will be like; probably feeling drained and tired until you suddenly drop dead like a shut-down PC.

So it’ll be a sort of death in your sleep kind of way...suddenly the bromethalin seems a tad ridiculous. Alex’s having an easy way out, and it comes unexpectedly almost like everything else in his life.

“So..Charles? Why are you asking for permission? Did you almost kill someone when you tried to possess them?” He asks to find out if there’s really a guarantee of death should this possession business be real.

“ Well, it’s a tradition. A routine we need to follow if we need to possess a living thing. Like… inviting a vampire into your house? “

Charles types back with a sense of relief but misunderstands Alex’s reaction to his response. He only catches his reaction of him touching the decreasing battery level.

“To be honest, I have never really possessed a person more than an hour before. I heard about how possession kills a health human though. And killing someone with this… unfortunately *power* isn’t my intention.”

He lies down on the ground, pretending he can feel those dust on the floor again. Like what he used to do when he wanted to avoid his parents’ meeting. Sleeping on the cold floor with AC running whole night always made him sick enough to not seeing anyone, but still able to do his works.

Alex for a moment cannot see the blurry figure anymore and panics a bit. He hasn’t seen it lying down.

“Wait? Where are you?” He calls. “I’m curious, how do you know you are poss- how do you know you have successfully possessed someone?”

“And how will possessed death be like, I wonder? Is it like brain dead or stop-breathing-dead?”

“ I'm on the ground buddy. Already missing me without even seeing me clearly?”

He didn’t get up from the ground but stay in the same position, typing out his answer with his head this time. One of the few good things about being a ghost, you can type with your mind. Which lower the rated battery dies out, but still takes a lot of battery power out fast.

“I’m glad you are getting serious now, cause your computer is dying faster than I thought. Well, I would be able to control your physically. Kinda like your 2nd personality in some way, you would still be able to interact with me internally??

…and the ...um, death? It would be like a brain dead situation. I would be slowly draining your brain, human’s natural energy source, where we have most of the electric signals going on. That’s probably an important reason why a ghost need consent to possess anyone. We are basically slowly sucking up your life juice. “

“...how can I trust you to control me?” Alex asks, shuddering. This sounds like an out-of-control situation and that’s something unacceptable for Alex. No way. Not after the downward spiral he and Eliza were helpless to escape.

“Can’t you do what you’re doing now? Like…” Alex looks to the ground, not seeing the blurry figure very well so he pins his gaze onto a particular spot. “Like...not be in my body but still using my life force?”

John’d criticize him for his need to control everything. But Alex thinks once you’ve reached such a low point as now, your complex is of the least concern.

He wonders if Charles needs to keep his ghostly state a secret.

“Well, that’s not how human possession works, unfortunately.“

He replies to Alex with a smirk on his face, chuckles lightly from how easy human imagines possession would be. Why would he be controlling those machines than humans when humans are so much more efficient?

“ I figured out that we can only control lifeless subjects distantly, but not any lives who have a thought. Do you know I even have to negotiate with a bird if I want to possess it? Yes, I tried E V E R Y T H I N G . “ And he can’t understand any of their words no matter how hard he tried.

“And I’m only a regular ghost who barely managed to keep my energy wave together, forcing a living being to be fully under my control… would possibly break me apart. So yeah, you totally don’t need to worry about me doing anything you don’t want. I would be like your subpersonality, who doesn’t have enough power to push you away from the spotlight? “

For a moment, Alex isn’t going to take the risk. But then he sees himself in the phrase “tried E V E R Y T H I N G” and does a double-take. He knows very well the feeling of having done everything and still ends up alone. Defeated. A failure.

That feeling of loneliness, helplessness and trapped is what he sees in this ghost friend. He has nothing to lose. And even if he dies from this, maybe Charles can take over his body. And live a better life than him.

It’s a win-win.

“You’ve got yourself a deal. How do I give consent?” Alex asks into thin air.

Charles can't hide his smile when Alex really agree with this … Is he truly going to give his consent to use his body? Dear god, I promise I won’t kill this innocent kid and use his body as little as possible.

“OMG, you are giving me your consent ?! ...Here, repeat this sentence after me till you can see me laying on...no, sitting on the ground with my favorite sweater. “

He sits up and tries to make himself looks less messy, someone is going to look at him clearly with giving him consent. At least Alex would see a ghost with a fixed hair. A good first expression would probably make their face to face interaction less awkward.

“ repeat after this till you see me: I, Alex (your full name), agree to let Charles Lee possess me at my free will. Not because of outside force or threat by the ghost who is going to take control of my body temporarily.”

“If something goes wrong...Nah, I mean, who is there to miss.” Alex chuckles carefreely and repeats the phrase written on his screen.

“I, Alexander Hamilton, agree to let Charles Lee possess me at my free will. Not because of outside forces or threat by the ghost…” A drop of sweat trails down the side of his face. Alex is really reaching the end of this sentence. He has forgotten what it feels like for his heart to beat this fast, for him to feel the liveliness of expectation, “who is going to take control of my body temporarily.”

He shuts his eyes.

A connection suddenly appears right after Alex finishes his sentence. Charles can take control of Alex’s body without any barrier now. But he wants to wait till he finally can see him in the eyes. And make sure he still agree on doing it afterword.

“Alright, I think we have built that route for possession now… can you hear me? “

He asks curiously, trying to calm himself down from talking to a real human in five years. Hoping Alex would be able to hear him.

“ Do you… regret your decision now ?”

Alex’s eyes open as he is startled by the sudden voice in the previously quiet room. Following the direction of it, Alex sees a young man sitting on the floor.

A handsome face, symmetrical and nice to look at if not for the way blood is dripping over the left side of it. His ghost, Charles Lee, is wearing a large sweater with the faded writing of a university name. His skin is translucently pale, so pale that the dark eye bags are as pronounced as eye make-up.

“You are...Charles?” He reaches out to touch the ghost’s shoulder and it felt as if his hand passes through a block of ice. It’s a numbing feeling, strangely calm. If death is actually like this, Alex doesn’t see why he has anything to fear.

“No. I don’t regret it.” He offers his hand for a shake. “Not at all.”

“ Yep, I’m your local-very-dead ghost roommate, Charles Lee. “

He puts on a more relaxing smile when Alex start asking him questions instead of getting irrational about his present, he did meet a better human this time. Better than the last human who tried to kick him out with holy water (which was only a waste of money).

“ I’m glad that you didn’t freak out meeting me. You know, I don’t exactly look like a normal human. Do I give you a good first expression? Like my style so far ?”

He shakes Alex’s hand with his most steady handshake, greeting his temporarily human in a manner he hasn’t use for ages. Can’t help but gets exciting about having this opportunity enter his life, well, dead-life.

“ Are you sure you are ready for a possession though? I don’t feel you have enough energy for it. “ He asks after shaking Alex’s hand, noticing the condition of his current stage isn’t as good as he imagined before their connection.

“Let’s roll with it. I’m probably the best chance you’ve got.” Alex brushes off Charles’s concern for his health. “We’ll start soon. I’m gonna help you free yourself from regrets.”

Even though Alex is still living with his.

“ … Let’s start this tomorrow, I insist. We need to give your body some time to get used to our connection. “

He pats his new human on the shoulder and tried his best to still looks exciting. Like this connection between them only means the possession, nothing more.

But he knows nothing more about it, this is a completely new experience for him too. He has no idea what might happen next.

“both of us need some charging right now. Possession would work the best with a fully rested body. “

And so they slept.