#i always assumed he showed them the full moon but it occurred to me tonight he might have shown off the sausage instead

[cirrus-grey]

ARCHIVIST: You’re not bitten, are you?

TIM: No, I don’t think so! Have a look!

ARCHIVIST: Yes, alright Tim, you look fine. Put them back on, please.

[midnightmoonkiss]

Oh, What A Ghost!

Ghost! Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Vampire! Reader

Summary: Being a pervert gets you punished, not that he minded.

WARNINGS!: Biting, oral (male and female receiving), face riding, fingering, butt stuff, blood, voyeurism, masturbation, orgasm denial, toys, a lot of nsfw content. Sub! Izuku

Category: Smut

Word Count: 5.4k+

A/N: Did I shove as many kinks into this as I could? yeah<3 HAPPY HALLOWEEN! :) 

Just To Clarify:

They’re consenting third years (aka 18+)

There is a heiarchy but Izuku totally tears it down 

This was a fun monster!au I made up :)

It’s Halloween lmao.

Perm. Tag List:

@coupsieddori​ @desia2​ @strwbrry-lia​

“You’re such a pervert, Izuku~”

“H-HaaaH! (L/N)..! Pl-please-! I’m- mmMM!! I’m s-ssorry-!”

“Is that so?”

To be honest, you never thought this would happen, never thought you’d be given the opportunity to make a move on your crush in such a.. bold and licentious fashion.

He did have it coming, though, considering you caught him red handed.

Ghosts were always so sneaky and aberrant, their ability to walk or float through walls and turn invisible offering a plethora of possibilities for activities, both good and bad. You didn’t expect such an ‘innocent’ and kind boy to partake in such activities that his race was known for, and yet, you weren’t all that surprised when you found out that he lived up to the stereotype.

Then again, most monsters did.

It was mostly inevitable, after all.

Just like how ghosts were perverts, vampires were sadists. And that’s exactly what you were.

Poor little Izuku, he had no idea the true trouble he got himself into, and on such a respected night as well.

Halloween.

October 31st.

The holiday was bigger than any other, the entire island, or at least the participating parts, went all out with decorations every year.

From lights to festivals, everyone went nuts.

It was the day that worshipped the supernatural, after all.

In a world where humans and creatures, previously thought as myths, coexist, humans have always overpopulated the monsters, and so schools built just for them popped up all over the globe. The one you and your dear friend, Midoriya, attended happened to be the most famous one, known for using monsters ability to fight against those who used it for wrong. It truly was thrilling, and it saved those previously in public schools from the bullying that occured all too much.

The school, UA, was like a pot of stew, all kinds of monsters mixing together. Werewolves, witches, wizards, zombies, vampires, ghosts, and so many more. Though, most typically stuck with their own group, but it wasn’t uncommon for people to branch out, just like how you were friends with a ghost and a zombie.

It took society a long time to accept monsters, and some still dont, but who needs them anyway, right?

Besides, to you, monsters were much more fun, especially when vampires and sirens were considered the top of the hierarchy.

Ghosts, ghouls, and zombies were at the bottom, their power not all that great, but vampires and sirens, alongside werewolves, were at the very top, the most well respected and feared monsters.

Though you were looked down on by your fellow vamps by befriending a ghost, you couldn’t care less.

As months flew by, and two school years came and went, you found yourself falling madly in love with the man who captivated you.

If he didnt float and walk through walls sometimes, you wouldve assumed he was a different class from how he held himself, strong, and not weak and defenseless.

You loved it.

But there was always something that made you question him sometimes, how he’d disappear without saying a word, how he’d be flustered around you one day and not the next. It was strange, but you never looked into it.

Little did you know, the dirty little ghost was up to absolutely no good.

His.. habit manifested out of fear, ever since that summer camp that occurred the first year, and he saw how badly wounded you were, he grew protective of you, even if you were miles ahead of him in strength. He’d check up on you somtimes, turning invisible and poking his head in through your dorm room window.

He knew it was wrong, peeking into a girls room- at night.. but.. he couldnt help himself.

He swore he would stop, but he never did.

One day, he happened to catch you.. doing quite a lewd act. He knew in his gut he shouldve floated away, to not be a peeping tom, but his large green eyes were glued to your perfect body, and how your fingers dipped in and out of your wet flesh with a squelch and moan that made his virgin cock twitch in his shorts.

Was it wrong to grab his dick, bucking into his hand as he watched you get off to an audio?

Maybe.. 

No, it definitely was!

But you.. you were so!!

So hot!

He lost count of the amount of times he’s cum on his hand watching you cum on your own, far too many.

But he slipped up today, let a moan escape past his hand and suddenly your ruby red eyes met his own.

He knew you couldnt see him, but he knew that you knew he was there!!

You smirked, showing off your sharp fangs, “Izuku.”

The pure shock he felt from hearing you say his name made him manifest into thin air on accident, collapsing to his knees as ghost costume covered his indecency.

There was a Halloween party tonight, and he dressed up as his race thinking it was funny- but it wasn’t really funny anymore.

And so, that led him to where he was now, willingly beneath your naked body glistening with sweat from the full moons silvery light pouring in through the window as you ground your bare pussy against his sensitive cock.

You pinned his arms above his head, your hungry gaze boring into his soul, he couldnt deny how hot it was, or how true your words were.

He was a pervert.

“Y-yes!” He cried out, tears pricking at his eyes from the embarrassment he felt at being caught, “I’m s-sorry..!”

His breath caught in his throat when you leaned down, your face hovering over his own.

“Mmm.. I don’t know if I can believe you, ‘Zuku.. How can I know you’re really sorry?”

You batted your eyes at him, pouting, such a devious thing to do.

“I-I’ll do a-anything t- haaahh.. nn.. t-to prove it..!”

He was so cute.

“Anything?” You pondered.

“Yes-“

You cut him off with a kiss, and you couldnt help but grin when he moaned against you.

This kiss turned into another, and another, and soon you were finally making out with him. It was sloppy and uncoordinated, but eventually you both fell into a rhythm, him whimpering each time you rolled your hips against him.

Swiping a tongue over his quivering bottom lip, he eagerly opened his mouth, just for you to invade his maw, greedily sucking his sweet tongue into your mouth, causing him to give in and buck up against your sopping warmth, giving your clit delicious friction.

“Mm-!”

Pulling away, his mouth chased your own for a second, “H-hah-! (L/N)!”

Pressing a finger to his plump lips, you pushed his head back down against your pillow.

“Say.. you wouldn’t mind if we’re a little late to the party, would you?” You smiled coquettishly down at the squirming boy covered in scars and freckles.

Gulping rather loudly, he shook his head, eyes wide and face burning red, his hormones going wild. How could he say no, when his crush was rubbing her naked self against him and enjoying it?

He would be a fool, a damn fool to say no, he wanted it too much. He wanted you, and he would say just about anything, do anything you wanted, to have you.

“Mm~ Good boy.” The praise went straight to his gut, butterflies forming and going wild inside him, making his hands clammy.

Reaching over, you dug around the drawer of your nightstand, pulling out a pair of red and black leather handcuffs that matched your curtains and rug.

Izuku let out a whine as his wrists were cuffed to the bed, giving in immediately.

“Bad boys don’t get to touch.” You teased, tapping his nose and watching as it wrinkled.

But this just meant you couldn't get his shirt and ghost sheet off, not that you particularly minded. You didn't need him completely naked.

Fulling slipping off him, you watched for a moment as his cock twitched, begging for you to come back to it. 

It made you giggle, and he flushed like a cherry.

Sauntering over to your closet, swaying your hips in a hypnotic way Izuku couldn’t ignore, you dug around, soon finding the glittery box you were looking for and pulling it out, showing it to him with a cheeky grin.

“W-whats in that.. (L/N)..?”

“(Y/N).”

“Huh?”

“Call me (Y/N), love.”

“O-oh…” Biting his lip, he looked conflicted for a split second, clearly inwardly debating if it was okay, before stuttering out your first name, only adding to the joy you felt.

Flipping the light switch off, your red fairy lights hung around the room made it glow crimson, your favorite color, especially on him.

The red glow made the atmosphere that much more romantic and sexy, his eyes reflecting the colors. It was like you were in the red light disctric in a dirt cheap hookup hotel, about to fuck your boyfriend who insisted upon not getting caught. How utterly disgraceful, and yet the thought excited you.

Setting the box down beside him on the bed, you sat at the bottom of the mattress, in front of his sock covered feet, noting how his hips wiggled impatiently and how he looked away with his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

Still so shy despite you rubbing yourself on him earlier.

“Look at me, darling.” You purred, dragging your nails up his leg to catch his attention.

Hesitantly, he turned his head, nervous eyes meeting your own.

It was rare that he saw them so red, the signature sign of a hungry vampire. They were captivating, and he found himself diving into their depths, drowning in you without you even touching him.

Placing your hands on his knees, you spread his legs apart, eliciting a mouse-like squeak from him. 

Even with his pants on, he felt so bare..

His heart jumped to his through when you gripped the hem of his pants and boxers, “Mind if I take these off?”

How polite of you..

He nodded his head, unruly green locks bouncing as he did so, squeezing his eyes shut.

“GAH” He screeched when you suddenly used your vampiric speed to pull them both down quickly and toss them so fast to the other side of the room that they slapped against the wall like a wet fish.

He was stunned, staring blankly at them, about to question it when he was cut off with a guttural groan, your lips suddenly wrapping around the tip of his weeping cock.

“H-hah-! A-ah! (L/-)- I me-an (Y/N-N)—! Wh-! MMMM!! Oh!!”

Despite your own mess covering his member, which definitely delighted you, you could still taste the salty precum dripping out as your tongue licked over his slit, his back arching from the stimulation.

He couldnt help but buck up pathetically with a mewl,  only to have his hips pinned down to the mattress with one of your hands.

“Ah, ah, ah~” You whispered against his tip, piercing eyes cutting into his skin like a poisonous knife as you dared him to fight against your hold.

He gulped, accepting his fate with a shaky breath.

Content with his obedience, you licked along the underside of his cock, savoring his musky flavor.

“Hnn! Hoahh..”

He was so.. vocal.. even with the slightest touch, you’d get a reaction out of him. It was fascinating, and only made you want to see how much more you could pull from him before he lost the ability to speak a coherent sentence.

Slipping his member back into your mouth, you swirl the tip of your tongue around his bulbous, flushed head, reaching up to grab the discarded lube you had left on your bed, 

“MmMm! O-oh..! My G-gosh..! Haa-!”

Squirting some of the clear jell-like liquid on your palm, you wrapped your hand around his shaft, smiling when he jumped, just to start pumping you fist up and down.

“G-GAaAh! Oh, (Y/N).!”

He himself found it hard to not thrash around from the intense pleasure he was feeling at the moment.

He couldnt help the drool slipping from the corner of his mouth as you began to bob your head up and down his member whilst simultaneously twisting your hand up and down his shaft, squeezing in places that made his mind go blank for a second.

He just felt so good!

It was so much different from pleasuring himself!

He had no control over his ecstasy, no control over how fast or how slow you went, and he loved it-!

“HyAAh!” He cried out like a girl when you suddenly deepthroated him, his tip pressing down your throat as you wet mouth squeezed and sucked on him like your favorite lollipop.

His hips fought against your hold as his head flung back, tears pricking at his eyes as you sucked him for all he was worth, his poor, over sensitive cock.

“O-OH! Oh, NnnNGH!! HaaA ! AAaaAh! (Y-Y/N)..!!!”

His handcuffs clinked together as his body began to shake, a warm feeling spreading in his lower stomach as his muscular thighs began to tense.

His orgasm hit him like a freight train, out of nowhere, intense, and electrifyingly cosmic.

His hazy green eyes rolled back, tongue flopping from his mouth as white hot and tangy cum squirted from his dick down your throat.

You greedily sucked it down around him, causing his entire body to jerk and twitch, cries and babbles fleeing past his spit-slick lips, the oversensitivity making his nerves burn in an oh-so good way.

Popping off his softening cock, you crawled back up his body, staring down at his cute, chubby, sleepy face.

You pinched his cheeks, pulling at it, successfully catching his attention and making his darkened eyes focus on you.

“O-oh-!” He stuttered,  face burning impossibly hotter as he watched you seemingly savor his flavor with lidded eyes.

“We’re not done yet, Izuku.” 

Your statement made him freeze like a deer in front of headlights. What else was there to do?

He already came.. oh!

Wait!

“Y-you didn’t.. c-cum..” He bashfully averted his gaze as you nodded, gears turning in his head again as he recovered from his high.

He knew exactly what you wanted.

“You know, you have such a soft and adorable face,”

“Wh-“

“Do you mind if I sit on it?”

Was this your way of asking him to eat you out?!

How bold!

How could you be so bold! 

Despite being nervous, he nodded his head, smiling giddily.

He had watched plenty of videos, had taken a plethora of notes, and even, as weird as it was, practiced on multiple fruits.

He was nearly positive he could please you.

He wanted to.

He needed to, to hear your own sweet moans caused by him.

He wanted that so bad.

Without thinking, he opened his mouth, eyebrows pinching together as he stared pleadingly up at you with his tongue out and ready to please.

He was such a good boy.

Standing up on your knees, you walked forward, your dripping pussy soon hovering over the excited boys mouth.

Lowering yourself, your thighs wrapping around his head, you were immediately met with an eager tongue lapping at your dripping folds.

“Oh~! My, s-someones enthusiaststic-!”

Bracing up urself on your hands and knees. You made sure not to suffocate the poor man as he rapaciously ate you out, sucking your puffy clit into his mouth and giving it much needed attention.

“Haaaah.. Izuku..! You’re such a good boy for me, eating my mm.. pussy like its your dinner!” You gasped, fingers threading through his messy green locks, pulling at them just to feel the vibrations of his moans against your clit.

You bucked against his mouth, riding his tongue and grinding down against his teeth.

“Mm-mmh! Hnmm…” His moans were muffled, wet licks filling the room.

He could feel your juices dripping down his chin as he was willingly smothered with your womanhood, completely trapped under you and beyond happy to obey.

His tongue dragged over your pretty pink labia, prodding at and slipping into your clenching entrance, slurping up your mess.

He could eat you out all day and never get tired, he was sure of it!

And your noises of pleasure were heavenly.. music to his straining ears. And the way you combed through his hair, he somehow felt like this was just as good as cumming, making someone else feel good..

But you suddenly lifted off his face, his tongue still moving for a second before he stared up at you with childish confusion.

His face was red and covered in your liquids, a true mess.

Chucking, you leaned back, wrapping your hand around his cock that sprung to life over the course of his meal, “I want to cum on your cock, Izu.”

Your dirty words made his heart jump and his member twitch in your grasp.

“P-please..” Though he knew he was going to get just that, he couldnt help but beg, it felt like he was supposed to, or that he had to- for himself just as much as for you.

“But first..” you trailed off, finally reaching into the box and pulling out multiple things that made him involuntarily buck impatiently into thin air.

In your hands, you held egg vibrators, a black cock ring, and a red ribbed vibrating dildo.

He gulped audibly once more, and you were positive if he were a werewolf, his tail would be wagging with those hearts in his eyes.

“Do you know what these are?”

He nodded his head. Gaze trained on them as you fiddled with the devices.

“Have you any idea what I’ll be doing with them?”

He shook his head, innocently smiling at you, the cheeky shit. 

“How about I show you?”

With that, you lubed up your finger, diving between his legs, pressing against his clenching hole, circling around it.

“H-haah..” His heart was pounding so hard it felt like he was at a concert as your finger slowly pushed in his tight hole.

“Nngh!” His cheek pressed against the pillow at the weird feeling of someone entering his body in such a way.

You finger thrusted in and out of him slowly, feeling around his warm, gummy walls for a certain button you knew he would enjoy having pushed.

His thighs were splayed wide for you, cock resting on his toned tummy covered by a white sheet.

You could only hope he didnt ruin his costume with how much he was leaking. He certainly had a sloppy dick.

Leaning down, you pressed kisses to his freckled inner thigh, pushing in a second finger and watching in amusement as he slowly got into it, embracing the feeling of being filled with your digits.

It wasnt long before you managed to fit in a third finger, grinning at how his ass practice swallowed them, “God, Izuku.. your ass is so greedy for my fingers, you keep sucking them back in~”

“A-aah! (Y/N)!! D-don’t say such-!! Nnghnn! Lewd th—things!”

“Hmm… I wonder… where is that pesky little spot..”

“W-what-? AH! H-AahAh! NGHH! Oh-oH! F-FaH! FuCk!”

“Bingo.”

You finally located his prostate, giving it no mercy as you aimed your fingers to press against it with each time you pushed and curled them inside him.

But from his thighs tensing beneath your lips and his cock twitching, you knew he was close again, and that was no good.

“A-AAaaAh! I’m!! I’m g-gonna! C-cu- hAh?!”

You pulled your fingers out, wiping the lube onto the sheets below you as he wiggled like a worm on the sidewalk, desperately bucking his hips and begging for you to give him more.

“Oh, I will..” Smirking over at him again, the glint in your eyes made him moan and feel like prey. You, a lioness on the prowl, and him, a mouse with nowhere to hide, completely bare for you, “But not just yet, baby. This is a punishment, after all.”

Though he was embarrassed at first with having his thighs spread so wide open, exposing every intimate part of himself to you, he didnt feel too shy anymore. You didnt judge him at all, in fact, you swallowed him whole. It was mind numbingly pleasant, and he never thought he would ever get to experience this, not even in his dreams.

For it to come true.. and to find out you were a kinky lady.. he was enthralled. 

Leaning up, you captured his lips in a kiss again, giving him time to calm down as you once again molded your lips together in a lustful heat.

He learned quick, his kisses becoming lasting as he met your pace with wet smacks and tongues brushing against eachother. His own passed over your fangs, and you both shivered when a drop of blood entered your mouth.

You inhaled sharply through your nose, eyes practically glowing in the red light of the room as you tasted him. He surely had the best blood you had even tasted before, nothing at all like how ghosts usually taste! They were bland and boring, but him-! He was nectareous and saporous. 

“Fuck, Izu.. you taste so.. magnificent..”

You licked his tongue again, holding onto that single drop of blood for as long as you could, his flavor making you keen with delight.

His lips parted to speak, but he was once again cut off with a lewd moan as you shoved the dildo halfway into his readily awaiting ass.

“GuaAh! W-wait!! It’s..! Too much!” He panted heavily, tears streaming down his cheeks from how good the vibrating phallic shaped object felt inside of him, almost like it was mixing his insides up like a blender.

“Mm, should I? You look like you’re enjoying this, Zuzuku.”

“Mmm..!! H-aAAaA..!”

Pushing further into him, you got the entire toy burried deep in his walls, pulling it back out, fucking him with the plastic object.

His thighs were spread so wide he feared they’re snap off at the hip as he rocked his ass on the toy, vision hazy as continue to cry out.

“HAAAAHH!! AAAH..!”

He screamed when the toy pressed against his button, pounding against it and making his legs turn to mush as he bucked so hard his heavy cock bobbed in thin air, slapping down against his stomach continuously.

Just when his eyes were rolling back again and his jaw was lax, about to cum, you pulled the toy out, “(Y/N)!!”

He sobbed in frustration, desperation building inside him to cum, even going as far as to try and drag you back with his legs.

“You cant cum yet, Izuku! We havent even used all these fun vibrators yet!” You held up the three vibrators with one hand, an all too innocent smile plastered on your face whilst he looked completely wrecked.

“M-mmh! B-but-!”

Not giving him time to talk, you grasped his leaking cock, pumping it a few times, watching as he tried to fuck into the tunnel you created. 

Grabbing the black cock ring, you stretch it on his awaiting member as he whines, knowing full well he cannot cum with such a device on. It would be torturous, but he was being punished after all, even if he had aready cum and his mind was turning to goo, he still remembered that. Of course you would make it so he couldnt cum again.

Taking the vibrators, you taped them around him, one snug just under his slit, and two against his sensitive spots.

Turning them on, his back arched impossibly high off the bed with a wail, involuntarily fucking up into the air from the intense stimulation.

Content, you sat back, pushing the vibrator in again and turning it on. 

You swore he was going crazy as he let out garbled moans, “G-guAAh! F-fucgh!! NAAh! Mm! Yo-ou.! Youguhhh..! MmeaaAAh!”

He was finally incoherent, steams of tears pouring from his eyes nearly consumed by his pupil, trying to fuck himself onto the vibrator and fuck into air.

He was a slobbering mess, body twitching and convulsing like a possessed child, your name spilling from his lips and muddling with other words on a praise.

“You’re so beautiful like this, Izuku… so wrecked and horny.. my little cum baby.. I bet you wanna cum, huh?”

Your hand slipped between your own thighs, slowly rubbing your clit as you got off to the gorgeous view before you.

Sweet and innocent Izuku Midoriya, the nerd of class 3A, your best friend who always helped others before himself, driven mad with pleasure, practically going insane- all by your doing.

It made you feel even more powerful than you already were.

Hearing a wet squelching, his curious gaze traveled to you, moaning heartily once he saw you fucking your pussy with your fingers, all while gazing at him with such a smolder he felt he was going to burn up. Hell, he already was burning up.

He felt hotter than the sun, and so ready to burst at the seams, but he couldnt.

“M-misstress! Pl-ehHAH.!! NHh! RidehuAh! Me..!”

What did he just say?

“Say that again, Izuku,”

“R-rAhIde-!”

“No, no, sweetheart,”

You pulled your fingers from yourself with a wet pop, pressing your hands to his sides and feeling him up under his shirt, gazing into his own once more, “before that.”

“Mmm..! Misss.. tress! H-haH.! Nnhgh..!”

Mistress. Now theres a word you never thought would fill you with joy.

Licking your lips, you decided enough was enough.

Grabbing his cock, you pull the vibrators off of him, immediately hovering yourself over him and sitting down with a hearty hum until he bottom out inside you with a cry of pleasure.

“GuAAAH!! (Y/N)!!! You’re!! So-!! NnnGh!! Mmmh! So tight-! Hahh..!” The vibrator still in his ass mixed up his insides, turning them into a liquid as you began to bounce on him like a trampoline.

He felt so good he didnt know what to do anymore, words he couldn’t comprehend bubbled past his parted lips, an onslaught of tears pouring from his ducts, pins and needles stabbing him everywhere in such a good way as he was overstimulated to the max.

Your walls hugged him like a vice, so warm and cozy, he wanted to be buried inside you all day.!

Inside you.. he was inside you!

You were fucking him so good-!

A smile made its way to his wrecked face, tongue hanging out of his mouth, sweat making his hair stick everywhere, he was connected with you…

He loved it.

And you loved him, that smile on his face warming your heart, but that familiar thirst stung the back of your throat, and your eyes were hyper focused on his neck covered in a blush and freckles.

His own cock was so big you felt like you were being stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey, but that wasnt enough to take your attention away.

Collapsing against his chest covered in clothing, you buried your nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply as the vibrations of his ecstasy rumbled in his chest and sung in your ears.

His scent overwhelmed you, made you delirious as you couldnt help but lick at his neck, nibbling and pulling at the skin.

His head lolled to the side, “bite— h-Huah! aaAH! Nnghhh!! MmMMmmhh! Bi-aAh-te! Me!!”

Bite him..? He was? Okay with it?

Well..

If he said to…

Your fangs sunk into his skin, blood spurting into your mouth and making your hips move inhumanly fast, he was so good..! Your eyes rolled back as you greedily sucked, his moans growing chopped, stuttered and louder.

He was slowly turning translucent beneath you as your fangs sunk into him again, and again, and again, blood flowing down your mouth like a delicious waterfall, savory and sweet, honeydew pine forest.

Blood smeared his skin growing more clear with each second as he lost his grip with reality.

“NgGHH! HAAAAAH!! MISTRuhUuESS! HAA-Ah!!”

The bed began to creak beneath you, your bounces growing more and more powerful as you felt yourself grow closer to sweet release, the blood pulling you higher up the mountain of ecstasy,

Suddenly, there was a loud snap, and a copious amount of thick cum filled your pussy, stuffing you even more to the point your belly had a small bulge from his cum. The feeling made you clamp down on him and cum with your own cries of pleasure mingling with his, fire exploding behind your vision as lighting shot down your body.

The bed suddenly broke beneath your bodies, but you were both too lost in ecstasy to even care, crying out eachothers names.

You collapsed on top of him completely, and it was then you noticed you couldn't see him at all, entirely invisible.

Catching your breath, you stared on in confusion, fleeing up his body but unable to see it.

“I-Izuku??”

No answer.

Had he passed out?

“Izu-?”

You’d feel around for a heart beat if he had one, but he didnt, no undead monster did.

Taking a deep breath, cheeks flushed and skin sweaty, you sat up, Izukus now flaccid cock pulling out with a wet pop, his cum immediately flowing messily down your thighs. 

He mustve had a pretty fucking intense orgasm if the damn cock ring snapped. Who’s ever heard of that happening before? Certainly not you.

Given a minute, you uncuffed his invisible wrists and pulled the vibrator from his ass, turning it off and tossing it to the sheets.

Geeze.. what a mess…

Checking the time from your alarm clock, you were now 34 minutes late for the ghoultastic party being thrown in the school.

Oh well.

If Izuku was a human, you were sure he wouldve died from the blood loss by now, but being undead certainly gave more leeway for fun activities.

Sitting back, you gathered his spare blood on your fingers sucking them into your mouth and savouring his taste. God, you could get used to something this good.

It was like his blood had nicotine in it, you were instantly hooked.

By the time Izuku woke up, he was fully wiped down, dressed, and practically ready to go.

It was clear to him you had cleaned things up, but how long had he been out for?! How embarrassing! He even lost control of his invisibility! Ugh.. you must think he’s a toddler… only kids lose control!!

“You okay?” Your honey sweet voice caught his attention, eyes snapping to the other side of the room where you emerged from the bathroom.

“O-oh! (Y-Y/N).. I.. um.. I’m okay..” He felt so awkward now.. would you pretend nothing happened? Ignore him? Tell everyone he was.. a peeping tom? 

He wanted to believe you were the nicest person out there but he was so terrified of you shunning him, even after such.. licentious activities.

Besides, he wasn’t entirely sure how to act right now, after having s-sex with you. He felt clammy and nervous.

“You look pale,” you chuckled, grasping his cheeks and pulling them so he’d be distracted.

You noticed that look in his eyes, and knew it well. Self doubt. You wouldnt accept that.

“Hahah… well, I am a ghost..“

Your lips pressed against his, for the thousandth ime that night, but he didnt mind.

Sighing out his nose, he relaxed into the innocent kiss with a small smile.

You cupped his face when you pulled away, admiring him.

“Hey.. your eyes are (e/c) again!” And just like that, his face lit up, “Well, I did have a nice dinner.” Your tone was playful, yet he couldnt help but burn with a fresh blush, rubbing at his neck where no doubt a bunch of bite marks laid.

“Quite a delicious one too,”

“(Y/N)!!”

Sitting down on his thighs, you wrapped your arms loosely around his shoulders, nuzzling your cheek against his, “How does your ass feel?”

“GAH!” He wrapped his arms around his head, leaning forward as practical steam came from his ears from how embarrassed he suddenly was. What a nice change of scenery.

“Hm?” He was clearly a virgin after all, you wanted to make sure he could walk.

“I-it’s… okay..”

Pecking his warm, freckled cheek, you hopped off him, diving into your closet again and pulling out a basic vampire costume, one you had purchased days before at a costume shop.

Izukus heart leaped in his chest, “You had.. the s-same idea as me?”

You nodded your head, easily slipping the attire on in front of the flushed boy, “I guess we can go as a goofy couple!”

He felt warm, so very, very warm. How you accepted him after catching his perverted act, he had no idea. All he knew was this warmth was something he wouldnt mind getting used to, monsters werent known for being warm, after all.

“Yeah.. that sounds nice.”

Here’s hoping no one spiked the punch.

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

Heart Shaped Bed

Mob Boss! Mikey x fem reader

Summery: It’s Halloween and you’re just looking for some fun of the dangerous variety. Enter: Michelangelo. A psychotic mob boss from hell who is in love with your best friend. Can you win him over and at what cost?

Warnings: NSFW, violence, alcohol mentions, car accident

((A/N: I have trouble writing crazy character despite being labelled as crazy myself, Mikey is tricky to write for in this AU so just bear with me))

October 31st, the night where all the ghouls and ghosts come out to play and superstition is at it’s highest since it’s rumoured that the veil between our world and the next is at it’s thinnest. You pull your skirt down your leg a little and take another sip of your free beer, one of the only perks of having a best friend who works at a bar. Paddy’s is always packed at this time of year, everyone is in costumes and drunk out of their minds; you are no different. You’re dressed as a sexy school girl because originality was never your forte and you wanted to show off your boobs a little, so what? You have the outfit down, complete even with bows on the thigh high socks and you look damn good.

It’s too loud to have a decent conversation with “Monster mash” blaring over the small speakers on the bar so you sit and give Sophie (Peach, as you know her) a forlorn look as if to say “more beer, please” and she complies. Peach looks radiant as she pulls the tap to refill your glass. Her light peach hair trailing down over her shoulders and her uniform or black slacks and a white t shirt with dark green hem hugging all of her curves. She was difficult to compete with but she was still so modest and complimentary of you it was hard to hold it against her. You knew half the regulars only came her to watch her, it didn’t stop you going after them though.

Looking around the room you watch and drunk idiots spill their drinks and desperately try to find someone to take home despite looking a mess, covered in fake blood or with vampire fangs. It was really something to watch. A guy in a ladybug costume fawns over a women dressed as Moticia Adams only to get the cold shoulder. You chuckle to yourself. Sat in the far corner of the room, at their usual table, sat the Turtle boys, a notorious gang in upside New York. They weren’t in costume, too good for it you assumed, and they didn’t look happy. You were aware, through Peach, that they made unsavoury deals in the back office of the bar and maybe tonight something went awry.

“Hey, babes!” you call over to Peach who is passing the incredible hulk a bud light “What happened over there?” you say gesturing subtly to the four well suited turtles.

“Not sure, I heard some yelling from the back room and then they came out. Something to do with that serial killer I think” She replies.

So a serial killing is hurting business. Huh. That explains their looking like someone died, someone has... You couldn’t keep your eyes from flitting towards them, sitting there so stoic and commanding while nursing a few now almost gone whiskys.

“Hey” you call over again. Peach turns and gives you a smile to let you know she’s listening “Isn’t that one the guy who-”

“- who choked out Steve for grabbing my ass? Yeah, that’s the one” she finishes your sentence for you.

You smile to yourself, Steve definitely deserved it. Pervert. You knew the turtle’s name but, like all residents of the bar, were reluctant to use it lest they hear you. But, tonight was a night to be brave and take chances, and you’d always wanted to bed one of them. Think of the status that gives you, sleeping with one of the most violent, deplorable men in the state. You know Mikey has a thing for Peach, on other nights his eyes don’t leave her, not that she notices; a good girl like her doesn’t have time for those “downworlders” as she calls them.

“Barkeep! I’ll take 4 martinis if you don’t mind. It’s time to take my shot” you announce to Peach who gives you a weary smile as she makes your drinks and places them on a tray in front of you.

You adjust your green and navy blue pleated skirt, hiking it further up so that the bottom of your ass cheeks would be on view and head over to the turtles, tray in hand.

You set down the drinks in front of them and say, with a smile:

“We have a special offer on tonight, boys. Buy four drinks and get me for free”

They stare at you completely unamused, but their looks weren’t going to discourage you now.

“Oh come on” you begin “That line would have killed two tables over”

Michelangelo takes a finger and runs it around the rim of his glass a few times before tipping it over, the contents of the glass spilling all over the table and onto your skirt. You jump back.

“Hey, what the fuck!” you cry out

“Act like a slut, get treated like a slut” he states.

With your tail between your legs, you huff and walk away. They didn’t have to be such assholes about it, and it kind of stung that you basically offered up your pussy on a plate and they sneered at you.

Back at the bar Peach raises her eyebrows as you take a few napkins and try and dry off your skirt.

“So, how’d it go?” she inquires

“About as well as you can expect from four mutant, snobby, rich dickheads”you reply. Peach leans over the bar and gives you a small hug and kiss on the cheek as her condolences.

Suddenly you feel eyes on you and turn around to see Michelangelo staring at you, mouth slightly agape and a strange look in his eyes. You would have called it regret, if you thought he was capable of feeling that. You ignore it and turn back to your drink.

You sense a presence behind you and turn once more to find him standing next to you looking awfully sheepish.

“Look” he begins “I’m...I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know you were a friend of- is there some way I can make it up to you? Is what I’m trying to say”

“Do you have a fresh size 3 shirt in that booth with you?” your snarky side is coming out

He laughs it off 

“No, but can I buy you a drink or” He looks you up and down “Interest you in any extra curricular activities?” His smile is so bright and charming, you feel yourself almost forgiving him for what had just occurred. And he was devilishly good looking, which helped a lot.

You trace your fingers lightly up his arm until they reach his shoulder.

“You wanna get out of here?”

He smirks, looks down and then back up at you

“Sure”

_____

Outside of the bar is freezing, especially in the tiny outfit you’re wearing and you shiver in the cold October air. Mikey shrugs off his blazer and puts it over your shoulders but you get the impression he’s doing this out of obligation rather than affection. It’s something about his movements, they feel more...Awkward and unsteady than fluid and confident. You know this isn’t his first time taking a girl home from Paddy’s, so you don’t fully understand what his deal it.

You arrive at his car, and despite knowing nothing about vehicles you can recognise that he drives a black Bentley and it must have cost him a fortune, not that he didn’t have the money. He could buy it 100 times over and still have more cash than half the people in New York.

He opens the passenger side door for you and you get in.

“So, my place or yours?” you ask

“Motel” he says plainly.

Curiouser and curiouser... You try and make a list of everything you know about him. He won’t take you home, he’s hot then cold and he has a thing for Peach. It clicks in your head. He’s using you to get closer to her. You almost smile, this was such a typical thing to happen to you, of course he only wants you for your relationship to her. It doesn’t matter either way, you’ll warm him up for her.

He drives fast and it’s not long before your on a highway and definitely breaking the speed limit.

You had been making casual conversation, the drive was always the worst part of a hook up, now you have to actually talk to them instead of make out. 

“I feel like we should have taken an uber” you say

He doesn’t turn to look at you or speak

“Because that way I could be touching you right now” You place a hand on his thigh and he still gives you no response. “Anndd you’re not listening. Great.”

He takes his eyes off the road and turns to you

“You’re the oldest in your family, you work as a manager in a clothing store but can’t fucking stand it there and you feel like we should have gotten an uber so you could be touching me right now. Did I get that right?”

You stare back at him slightly aghast and he continues to watch you. Suddenly you realise he hasn’t looked at the road this entire time and the car in front of you is slowing down

“Watch out!” you scream and the car swerves before he gains control again and brakes, the car rocking side to side a little from the sudden movements. You’re breathless and you turn to look at Mikey who simply bursts out laughing while he continues to drive, his eyes wide as full moons. He’s sick you think to yourself. Lucky you like that in a man, and there’s nothing like a near death experience to get the blood pumping.

You continue the car ride for a while in silence apart from the odd laugh from him who still seems amused that you nearly crashed.

He pulls off the side of the road into some shitty looking motel. A huge florescent sign that reads “Blue Moon Motel” sparks a little which doesn’t offer you any comfort. This place was a dump, but if it had a bed it would do.

________

Inside the room you shake off the blazer he gave you onto the chair in the corner of the room, by the end of the bed. The interior was cute, all shades of blue and white and the bed sheets has little lace style trimmings.which was delicate and sweet.

You fling yourself onto the bed, kicking off your shoes and pull out your phone, you decide you need music for this momentous occasion. You settle on “Heart Shaped Bed” by Nicole Dollanganger and press play. It’s creepy enough to be fitting for Halloween but slow enough to be romantic. The opening notes of the piano begin to stream from your phone which you place on the nightstand.

*lay me down, on a heart shaped bed Pretend it’s out wedding, pretend we just met*

“So” you spread your legs a little and look at Mikey “How do you want me?”

He gives you a wicked smile and then he’s upon you, biting and sucking at the delicate flesh of your neck with vigour. Clearly he couldn’t wait any longer you thought to yourself.

*Pretend we're in one of those movies They rent in the back of every seedy place We pass on the interstate*

You angle your head to kiss his mouth but he pulls away, making it clear that this is not a romantic occasion, this is just fucking and he doesn’t want you in that way. It doesn’t bother you, it just heightens the whole “big bad mob boss” fantasy although you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little disappointed by it.

he tears your blouse open revealing your chest and begins his work sucking and biting at your nipples and the tender skin of your breasts, you look down and can already see pinky purple bruises forming, a treasure map of where his mouth had been.

You moan a little at his touch but he continues his work down your stomach and towards your most sensitive area. Lifting up your skirt he places a kiss on you clothes mound before peeling off your underwear. You raise your hips slightly to help his get them off with ease and then he returns back down, licking between your folds until his tongue passes over your clit and causes you to moan hard.

*Just hold me through these lonely nights We'll have a blue wedding tonight*

“You want this?” he says from between your thighs, you can feel his hot breath against your skin, a sensation that is more than pleasant. 

“Yes, god yes” you squirm

“No.You wanna act like a slut, you get fucked like a slut” he returns.

Before you have time to respond her grabs you by the ankle and flips you over onto your stomach before pulling your hips up so that you’re on your knees with your shoulders and face still down on the bed. You hear him undo his flies and think for a moment as he lines up with your entrance

“wait, don’t we need protectio-” before you can finish he’s inside you and thrusting hard and deep, he gives you no time to adjust to his size and he is very sizeable... You cry out in the mixture of pain and pleasure that he’s giving you. As well as the music, the room fills with the obscene sounds of his flesh pounding against yours and the wet noises your pussy makes as he pushes in and out of you.

“you think sluts use protection?” he mocks

He feels to good for you to want him to pull out now, so you go with it, but raise yourself onto your elbows. His hands are on your hips but he trails one down your back to grab at your ponytail and pull your head back.

*So get the room with the heart shaped bed Make something gross feel romantic*

Your walls tighten around him and that elicits a grunt from him as he begins to pound harder into you, smacking your ass hard as he does. He pulls out and flips you over back onto your back and holds your legs up to your chin, his strong arm keeps them in place as he realigns himself with your entrance and pushes back in. This new position allows him to get deeper which you think is what he was hoping for.

*Make me so no one will ever want me again*

Now he has a full view of your face, eyes squeezed closed and face contorted in pleasure

“Open your eyes” he demands “Look at me when I’m fucking you”

He’s still fully clothed which you’re a little unhappy about, so you open your eyes and begin to undo his shirt. Your fingers tremble slightly partially from the force at which he’s fucking you, partially do to the alcohol you had that night.

*'Cause when I sleep with faith, I only Find a corpse in my arms on awakening*

You slide his shirt over his shoulders and throw it across the room, raising your head a little you bite into his now exposed shoulder to stifle your moans. You don’t understand how he can bring you so close to the brink this soon, but his pace is unyielding and unwavering. He fucks you like he’s punishing you.

He grabs you by the chin and squeezes 

“Open your mouth!”

you do as you’re told and he purses his lips, pauses and then spits down your throat, pushing at your chin to close your mouth and encouraging you to swallow. He’s disgusting but being treated this way only turns you on more, much to your shame, you can feel your cheeks flush with blood as he smiles down at you one he hears that familiar *gulp* sound.

*Just hold me through these lonely nights We'll have a blue wedding tonight*

He pulls out once more and gets of the bed which confuses you for a second, until he pulls you up by the hair and leads you to the wall. He spins you around and so you’re facing it and pushes your shoulders forwards and pulls your hips back so he has easier access to your pussy. He plunges his cock back inside of you and you rest your face against the wall as you take him in all the way. You think you might start seeing stars if he continues like this. Never mind him being a probable killer, they should lock him up for murdering your pussy.

One of his hands rakes through your hair and pulls back your head while the other reaches around to your face and pinches your nose shut while covering your mouth. You can’t breath at all and begin to panic slightly but also whine into his hand because of how good he feels inside you.

you feel that tightness in the pit of your stomach and know that you’re close, you try and moan into his hand, shaking your head a little from side to side to try and get him off your face but it’t to no avail. So you use your hands but he simply lets go of your hair and pins your arms behind your back. You still can’t breath and now you’re so close to cumming and black dots and filtering in and out of your vision, you think you might be close to passing out.

Finally that knot in your stomach releases and your orgasm washing over you, you practically scream into his hand before he lets go and you fall to the floor, gasping for air.

*Just hold me through these lonely nights We'll have a blue wedding tonight*

He hasn’t cum yet so he stands over you, stroking his dick, smirking at what he did to you. If it weren’t for the afterglow of your orgasm, you’d be furious and give him a peace of your mind but you were still desperately trying to catch your breath.

Mikey throws his head back before cumming on you, some of the milky fluid getting in your hair and you lift your hand up to shield your face from it. Was this to insult you? Or was it still part of the whole ‘you’re a slut’ role play thing because you couldn’t tell anymore.

He tucks himself back into his finely tailored trousers and walks across the room to put on his shirt and gather his blazer from the chair you threw it on earlier. He pulls a small rectangular card out of his pocket and throws it on the nightstand next to your phone which started playing the next song a while ago.

“You can spend the night here, if you want. Anything you get from the minibar will be charged to my card so don’t worry about it” He looks down at you, still on the floor, bright red in the face and still breathing rather heavily “G’night, sweetheart” he winks at you before heading to the door and closing it behind him.

You pull yourself up to your feet and head over to your phone, opening it and typing out a message to Peach.

[Hey girly, you won’t believe the night I just fucking had] the text reads.

You flop down on the bed and await her response. A shower could wait for 5 minutes while she replies.

Fin

[divinerivals]

A late night in the library

Warning: NSFW CONTENT

Shortly after dinner that evening they parted ways. Cassian for a night out with his brothers and her to the library. She was close to finishing a book and he learned, albeit the hard way, not to disturb Nesta Archeron when the end of a book was in sight. It was best to leave her alone and when she finished, Nesta would come to their room. Undressing as she went into such vivid detail of the stories she read. Did he remember them all? No. Not a chance. She read through books as quickly as he could fly from Velaris to the Spring Court. Keeping up with all the stories was impossible, but he tried. For her, he tried and always will. Cassian knew her better than anyone. Though she made sarcastic quips about him not keeping up, Nesta appreciated the gesture. It meant more than words to her. That he would stay up and listen to her go on about what she loved and hated about each book. Tonight was unusual for her.

Upon entering their room he noticed she hadn't retired for the evening. He knew with only five chapters remaining she'd have finished hours ago. The room was dark and barren. No figure laid in bed waiting for him to curl his wings and arms around. The hour was late as Cassian turned away heading for where he knew she would be. At least he hoped. The general commander wouldn’t know what he would do if his mate wasn’t. Perhaps she had fallen asleep in her chair reading. It wouldn’t be the first time Cassian found Nesta fast asleep with a book in her lap.

He strode quietly into the library. Moonlight shining through the elongated windows illuminating the room, casting a soft glow. His feet drifted as if he was in a trance walking past all the books and shelves. Some thousands of centuries older than him and some younger than that of his mate. If Nesta was to be found where he left her, she would be in her favorite chair next to one of the large windows. The fabric was plush and smooth when you ran your palms over it. The color was a deep vermilion like the reddest of wines. In the light of the moon, the color appeared as dark as the inky night sky. Cassian glanced over towards the area. No one was there.

“Nes?” He called out moving slowly towards the chair. Hearing no response nervousness began seeping into his bones like a slow poison.

Cassian settled into the chair, it was still warm and her scent everywhere. Sitting into the enormous chair he realized why she liked it so much. It was as comfortable as their bed and he understood why he constantly found her here. With feet tucked under herself, head resting in the corner of the chair. Running his eyes over the small ornate side table sat a small candle still lit. Briefly, Cassian watched the fire dance wildly around its glass home before moving to the mug on its left. The mug he realized was earl grey and half gone. Wrapping his hands around the half-drunk tea, Cassian could still feel warmth in the porcelain. Behind the candle and the teacup laid a new stack of books. Cocking his head to the left he noticed there were new reads at the top. Books labeled, A Cruel High lord, Wickedness of a High Lord, The High Lady of Nothing. Relief replaced the growing nervousness knowing what occurred.

Nesta finished the book and started new ones. As his fears dispersed he could feel her presence in the library and knew she’d return soon. Foolishly he smirked picking up the first book A Cruel High lord. Leaning back into the chair like it truly was his bed welcoming him. Cassian opened the book to a random page. Hazel eyes briefly scanned the well-worn pages slightly frayed at the edges. Whether it was due to old age, various readers, or both, he couldn’t say. He found himself reading an excerpt about a mortal girl. Of her kissing a High Lord of the day court while she held a dagger to his throat. His mind drifted off to Nesta. Straddling his hips and doing the same. Preferably tied to a chair like this High Lord, Cardan Greenbriar. With a name like that he’d assumed the guy would be in a Spring court, not a Day.

“I thought I felt you near,” Nesta spoke up from the shadows as she stepped into the small alcove.

Cassian snapped the book shut looking up to her, “Hey to you too,” grinning while placing the book back on the stack.

Tucking her new book into the crook of her arm, placing a hand at her waist, “You’re in my seat. Move it.”

That grin on his strong features growing at her command. Folding his arms across his chest, Cassian crooned, “You know sweetheart. I don’t think I will.”

Nesta rolled her sea storm eyes sauntering over to him, “Fine,” if he wanted to play games so would she. What her mate didn’t know was she was already a step ahead.

Nesta's gossamer gown hugged her womanly curves so tightly it was like a second skin. He swallowed thickly as his darkened gaze trailed from her hips up to her breasts. The cut of her gown barely kept his favorite playthings in check. The way she smirked, Nesta knew it too. Mother damn him, he only wanted to bury his face in between those glorious mounds of tissue. like he was burying his head in the softest pillows. The mere thought of her breast in his mouth, made his cock twitch. Hell, the simple thought of Nesta did. Nesta moved with the utmost grace as her hips swayed with every movement approaching him like he was sitting atop a throne. Cassian, seeing her move before she made it, unfolded his arms resting them on the chair and welcoming Nesta into his waiting lap.

Her hair pulled into a tightly braided crown granting him full access to her neckline, “This is nice,” he murmured hotly against her ivory skin causing goose flesh to rise. Pressing a chaste kiss below her lobe, he wound his arms over hers pulling Nesta to his chest. Even his wings inched a little closer to her.

Nesta leaned into his touch with a soft hum, “And this is different. Is Nesta Archeron showing affection?” He teased reaching up to undo her perfect braid, watching with domesticated ease as her hair flowed out in soft waves from its confines. He adored the way her honey-colored tresses fell and framed her face.

“Prick.”

She could feel his fingers tenderly run along her arms in soothing strokes as his lips continued their endless exploration of her neck down to the decolletage of her midnight blue gown.

“Such language sweetheart.."

Gathering the fabric of her deep blue gossamer gown, Nesta twisted in his lap. In doing so broke the tender embrace they briefly shared. He didn’t mind it, in true Cassian fashion, he preferred her this way. The way her hair fell loosely around her face, dusting the tops of her generous breasts. How the blue-grey in Nesta’s eyes brimmed with both fury and passion at him, pink lips pursed out in agitation. His arms dropped one against the swell of his back. The other on her thigh slowly pulling the skirt up. Cauldron boil him; he wanted nothing more than to take her right now in this damned library. Ravish her against the shelves, the windows, in this very chair. The area didn’t matter. When Nesta looked like she would eat him alive, Cassian was irresistible to it, a moth to a flame. She pressed up against his chest like a cat looking for affection.

Bringing her lips mere inches from his own. Sharing breaths as she purred low and wanton, “Don’t like me so crass?” she teased, “Pity,” Nesta pulled away reaching for the book that was in her arms moments ago, Holding it by the binding she shook it in front of him, “And to think I had a gift for you?”

“Oh?”

Holding the book in her hands stretching her arms as high as she could, Nesta rolled her hips into him. Teasing her love in the best way, the wicked way. Cassian let out a feral groan feeling her clothed core against him hardening with every moment. She had him pinned where she wanted him. He wasn’t a fool, he knew the flirty games she played. Fisting a hand in her soft tresses pulling Nesta to his lips, Kissing with such intensity he was sure there’d be a bruise. Neither of them, he knew, didn’t care. The hand on her thigh quickly slid up her womanly shape, curling around her arm as he freed the book from her grasp.

“Too easy,” he laughed against Nesta’s mouth, flicking his tongue over her wet lips, “This apart of those books,” he nudges towards the stack.

“You tell me,” she breathed, “ I saw the book in your hands when I approached. You were reading it.”

He snorted, “Was not,” as he opened to the first page realizing his mate had as much as a filthy mind as he. Bless whatever smut books she reads that instilled this idea. Inside the cover was nothing but a pair of black lace underthings. Cassian looked down at the book to his mate repeating the gesture a few times.

Chewing her bottom lip Nesta waited for his reaction. Her heart pounding at his wordless response. She thought he would be interested. To have her here in this room she loved so much. When she felt him enter the library, Nesta thought it was a fun idea. Many of her books had couples give themselves to one another in forbidden places. All he could do was glance at her undergarment and back to her. She almost gave up. Readying to stand and find another room to sleep for the evening. Cassian closed the book with an audible snap. The sound echoing in the stillness of the library. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a small knife lifting it to their eyes copying his opposite fist holding her garments.

“These,” he said roughly gripping the black lace, “Are mine now,” shoving them in his pocket, “If you take them I’ll tear them off of you with my teeth.”

“Is that a challenge?” She questioned, brows raised.

He smirked hazel eyes burning with amused desire, “Try taking them and find out,” a devious glint shined in her eyes while Cassian pushed back her skirt revealing her uncovered core. A single-digit reached down into the apex of her thighs teasing her entrance with a lazy stroke eliciting a mewled moan from her, “you’re a wicked woman Nesta. I love you all the more for it,” he growled against her neck running his tongue from her jaw to collarbone while his finger rubbed over her increasingly slick folds. Pulling away Cassian held the knife in front of her handing it over by the hilt, “Yeah, I saw some of that book. If you’ve read it you know what I want you to do.”

Wrapping a hand over the hilt, Nesta took the simple knife. Cassian brought a second finger to her clit in slow ministrations, “What if mm...I.... cut you?”

Sliding his fingers into her heated index, curling upward stroking her velvet walls, “Fire of my life,” his voice thick with lust, “No better way for me to go than your mouth on mine and some part of me inside you. Even if you meant the kill.”

A wicked smirk that would make the most seductress jealous crossed her high fae features. Nesta did as her mate requested. Raising the blade to his throat while he continued pumping her. Nesta gripped his shoulder, nails digging through the fabric of Cassian's shirt as she rode his fingers. Keeping the steel blade steady Nesta leaned up, running her tongue along the seam of his mouth pushing through taking the access they both craved. Lips against lips as their teeth and tongues collided in a heated dance. He'd bite and pull her bottom lip and she returned the favor. The hand on his shoulder reached up for his wing, Nesta splayed her hand against the veins. Moving her palm in fluid motions of the warm, smooth wings, silky as her skin. Cassian groaned into her mouth at the touch, her lips vibrated to the sound. Cauldron this woman would destroy him.

Her hips writhed against his fingers as he repeatedly thrust them into her core. A thumb trailing over folds before pressing hard along her clit. A guttural moan escaped her lips mid-kiss just as her hand gripped the hilt of his blade tighter, pushing into the smoothness of his skin, but not breaking. The harder she panted the faster his fingers worked. Nesta’s fingers continued moving along the veins of his wings. Like she was trailing delicately over an aged map she’s used hundreds of times. By now he was painfully hard with the sinful touch of her digits over his wings, her cunt squeezing around him, the mewled moans, and her damn voluptuous breasts pressing against the solid muscle of his chest, begging for his touch, Cassian was utterly loss into a blissful world of Nesta.

“Cass,” she spoke out in low panted breaths just below the lobe of his ear.

“Nes,” he growled onto her skin.

“Give me more of you,” Nesta demanded

Pulling his fingers from within her, Cassian reached up grabbing a fistful of hair exposing Nesta's neck. Dragging his tongue from her collarbone up to her jawline tasting the sweetness of her skin. The opposite hand roaming over her body up to her breasts grasping so roughly Nesta gasped in surprise before glaring.

“That’s not nice,” he growled lower this time, more feral.

Nesta’s hand on his wing dropped to thick waves of his hair copying his movements. Manicured nails scraping against his scalp. Carefully she angled his neck to avoid cutting him with the d blades fine tip. The action causes Cassian to drop his hold on her tresses and fill them with her heavy breasts. Fingers digging into the soft tissue through the fabric of her gown as Nesta leaned over biting and sucking the nape of his neck.

A hand dragged from his inky black hair down and down until she reached the softness of his pajama bottoms, sliding down to grasp the treasure she sought. Nesta wrapped a warm palm around his shaft, working in slow strokes listening to Cassian’s groan and feeling his hips jerk under her weight. She’s always known how hot her body ran when she called the shots, but this she held all the control. The blade at his throat her opposite hand on his cock. The general commander was hers to command.

“Now,” Nesta tossed the blade to the ground as it fell with an audible clank, “You know I take what I want. She helped pull his pants down exposing his hardened member. A wicked grin pulled at her plump lips while running a thumb over the head. She switched hands sucking her thumb of his saltiness. Cassian had to resist all urges to not come at the moment. She looked every a bit a feral goddess. Blue-grey eyes brimming with lust, cheeks tinted pink, lips swollen and red, and her long hair fallen wildly around her face. Cauldron bless the high power who gave him Nesta as a mate. Who shared his depravity or in the least entertained it.

Nesta's entire body sang with a fiery, ache for him. Wasting no time, her knees braced tightly against his thighs in the large chair, she hiked her gown up positioning herself over him. In one swift motion, she slid her soaked core onto his length taking him to the hilt. She was tight and warm around his cock, her walls conforming perfectly to him, like a glove. They both groaned in unison becoming one.

Immediately Cassian stripped himself of his shirt. Discarding it to the ground. Nesta splayed her hands across the solid muscle, as she began to move. Slender Hips rocking against muscled ones. Cassian reached behind pulling down the zipper of her dress, loosening the fabric. Nesta quickly pulled her arms from the sleeves letting the gown fall to her belly. He filled his hands with the heaviness of her breasts. Squeezing and kneading the soft tissue, taking her pert nipples in between his thumb and forefinger. She could feel his nails digging into her tender flesh. Cassian took her breast in his warm mouth. His tongue trailing over her mounds then flicking over her nipples, as he sucked her breast. Hands winding their way into his thick, sweat riddled locks pulling him further to her chest. Cassian's opposite hand slid under the gossamer fabric gripping her ass cheek. Rocking her harder and faster over his cock as she rode him.

Nesta threw her head back, moaning louder with each thrust and each suck of his mouth on her. Her sounds of pleasure echoed through the stillness of the library. Nails raking down to his slick back feeling the ripple of muscle move beneath her touch. Cassian's wings brushed against her arms as if begging for his mates attention. She knew what that meant. By the wing touch, the ragged breaths, and the way her hips shook they were close. With a wet pop, he pulled off her breast. Firmly gripping her waist she knew what he needed. Nesta quickly pulled herself off him turning in his lap before settling down and taking him deep inside again.

This way she felt him inside her more as she bounced and rocked over his cock. Cassian's hand found themselves at her breasts. Using them to hold her tight against his bare chest while he pounded her from this new angle. Cassian loved the weight of her soft mounds as her breasts bounced wildly in his grasp. He fondled her chest with hasty roughness that had her crying out in mewled responses. She tossed her back, resting on his shoulders. The sound of skin slapping against skin and her breaths ragged and high pitched repeating a chorus of mmm, Cas, fuck, faster echoed in the heady air. With each quickened thrust he could feel himself hitting her core. He could feel her inner walls squeezing his cock tighter and tighter with each movement.

Nesta’s hips quaked as the heat from within pooled out from her belly spreading through her. By the erratic thrusts, she could tell Cassian was nearing. Her arm looped around his neck. He sucked and kissed at her neckline, throaty groans vibrating her ivory skin while continuously working her breasts.

"Wing," she rushed out.

With urgency, he enclosed his wings around them as Nesta reached it with her spare hand. Her digits working the veins of his wing. She knew just the right spots to make him spill inside her. Three more thrusts, her vision blurred when she cried out his name like he was her savior. Just as he growled into her flesh.

Nesta’s arms fell to the armchairs, resting her head to his shoulder. Cassian let go of Nesta’s breasts, pushing her sweat riddled hair from her face and kissing her cheek. His hands moved down to meet hers. Entwining their hands together. His thumb running soothing circles over the back of her hands while coming down from the high.

"Have I told you how amazing you are?" He questioned. His voice laced with exhaustion and tenderness.

"Every day. But please," she yawned loudly, "enlighten me."

"I will. In the morning when I'm fucking you again."

That earned his favorite thing to hear from her, laughter. From the cold, cruel nature everyone sees of Nesta. Her laughter would surprise them. Whenever that honeyed sound came through, he swore he fell more in love with her.

"You're ridiculous."

"For you. I'm ridiculous for you, Nesta," he paused and then reached for her breasts. Touching with care before bouncing them in his hands, "and these. I'm ridiculous about your fun bags."

She snorted, climbing off him, "Don't ever call my breasts fun bags again if you want to touch them," she slipped her arms back in her dress. Cassian stood pulling his pants up. He walked around to her back zippering the gown. He turned around walking to his shirt and knife picking both up. The knife he pocketed and the shirt he kept in his hand returning to Nesta.

"You're no fun," he said, lowering himself to the floor, Cassian lifted her gown. Wiping away their combined juices with his shirt.

She looked down at him fixing a pointed look. It only made Cassian grin like a damn fool, "Out of all the men in the world. Why in Cauldron did I fall in love with you?"

"Because you're irresistible to my charm?" she rolled her eyes, laughing that beautiful laugh again, "Come on. I'll carry you to bed."

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

a/n: Over the next week or so I am transferring my fics to tumblr. I kinda prefer the tumblr platform and I am on here more than ao3. So some of the fics I will be posting, yes you may have seen before, like this one.

Taglist: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23​ @hizqueen4life​ @clockworkgraystairs​ @b00kworm​ @negativenesta​ @sjm-things​​ @whataboutmyfries​​ @justgiu12​​ @illyrian-bookworm​​ @thesirenwashere​​ @forbiddencorvidae @vanessa172003​​ @thewickedkings​​ @sleeping-and-books​​ @thefolkofthefic​​ @yafandomsdotnet​​  @alittledribbledrabble​ @iminsanenotobsessed​ @figuredihadanodustollensofalife​ @df3ndyr @awkward-avocado-s @maastrash @knifewifejude​

want to be on my taglist? let me know!

[malethirsty]

A Hard Day’s Night: Ethan Chandler

Summary: After working on both finding Mina & managing your telepathic ability, you accompany Ethan to the Grand Guignol, which causes a flood of things to be revealed.

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), Bareback (Wrap Before You Tap)

Inspired by: https://twitter.com/malethirst/status/1196862910745571328?s=21

Working with Malcolm Murray was an experience of a lifetime, but was not without problems. Ever since he & Vanessa Ives recruited your telepathic abilities to help locate Malcolm’s missing daughter Mina, you’d been working non stop. You’d had moments alone with Sembene during break, but he was more of a silent soldier, you needed someone to talk to. You could have talked with Mr. Lyle, but despite you both being closeted, you couldn’t bring yourself to, mainly cause you thought he might sell you out.

So you whiled away, all until one fateful day. The day Ethan Chandler walked into your circle, you were smitten by the American however couldn’t fully read him, it was the same with Vanessa, and you couldn’t work out why. However it wasn’t as important as striking a connection up with him. Ethan responded well, the two of you discussing things like the Demimonde, American history & his potential settling. Over time, you fell in love, but pushed the thoughts away, he was rough and tough, and would probably turn you away, you didn’t want the relationship to end. It couldn’t mean that you could avoid looking at the beautiful rugged man, his amazing long hair, his drawl, how amazing he probably looked naked.

“Y/N, are you hearing me?” Ethan clicked his fingers in front of your face, breaking your thought “Wha?” You muttered confused, Ethan grinning “I asked you if you wanted to come to the Grand Guignol tonight, Miss Ives is already going & I think she could use the company.” “So like you’d escort me like one would a lady?” The words escaped your mouth before you could stop yourself, your inward curse stopped by Ethan responding “Yeah, like that.” You breathed heavily “I guess so, 8PM sharp the production begins right?” “Yes, make sure you look your best Y/N, I’m gonna take my best man for a night on the town.” “I’ll make sure of it Ethan.” Ethan grinned at you as he walked away, you moving up the stairs, ready to pick out an outfit to wear.

As 7PM rolled around, you told Malcolm you would be out but would keep an eye out for Mina. He nodded his head in agreement, more concerned about his acquisition Victor Frankenstein, than anything else around him. You met both Ethan & Vanessa outside “Well Mr. Y/N, you look nice this evening” “Thank you Vanessa, I can say the same of you.” She smiled, which was always important to get from her as what you were able to see from her thoughts, she hadn’t lived a pleasant life, so any chance to make her smile, you’d take. “How’s the anchoring going? And how are you going to adapt it to find Mina?” Vanessa’s questions were important as going into the hustling & bustling public with telepathic abilities was like walking through a busy road packed full of noise, recently you’d learnt anchoring from her & had been locking it onto Ethan so things would be more bearable, but now you’d have to let it down a bit. “I’m sure it will go fine, it did the other night. I know Malcolm used you for most of the work, but I was able to keep it controlled when I had to attempt to seek Mina out.” “Good work Y/N, but we really must head out or they won’t let us in.” At Ethan’s prompt, you all set out to the Grand Guiginol.

The production ‘The Transformed Beast’ was quite a spectacle, thrilling the audience but you knowing of the horrors of the supernatural were not as horrified as the other viewers. You took the opportunity in less important parts to gaze at Ethan, seeing his reaction to what was unfolding on stage. Then the main actor said it, the words that would change everything “There cannot be a happy end, for claw will slash and tooth will rend!” At this your anchoring slipped. Flashes occurred, so quick you couldn’t focus back on Ethan. You saw the lead actor, leading some sort of creature backstage, you saw vampires nestled in the rafters, you saw Mina on a beach with Vanessa, Mina being bitten by some out of focus figure, then you saw people being mauled by a different figure, one that looked wolfish. Claw slashed, tooth rended & finally you saw the creature rest in the dock, time elapse as it morphed into Ethan as he awoke & started right at you, with eyes filled with pain and heartache.

“Y/N, Y/N!” Ethan was shaking you and you pulled yourself out of it “What Ethan?” You said, trying to not act like you’d seen something connected to him kill a lot of people. “It’s Intermission, you want to go out and ask Vanessa what she thought?” “Uhm, I, um” you said, trying to find your bearings, however as a dark look fell over Ethan, you knew he knew what you’d seen “You know don’t you?” He said softly, you nodded. Ethan got up & made his way quickly towards the exit “Ethan don’t!” You called out but he had gone “Ah shit” you murmured under your breath as you tore out to find him.

He was right outside the theater, which made your pursuit seem over dramatic to say the least “Ethan?” you cautioned, not knowing what would happen “Have you ever wanted to be someone else?” This was not the American you knew, this was a man who’d been through so much, close to shattering, it broke your heart to see Ethan so sad. You walked up to him & put a hand on his shoulder “I used to, but I grew used to what I had.” “And you think this is some type of gift?” Ethan asked, his voice raising “Well I don’t fucking know, I don’t even know what it is!” You responded back harshly. Ethan drew deep breaths, attempting to calm down “Mariner’s Inn, that’s where I’m staying. Let’s head back there so I can explain.” Ethan started to walk, you following behind him.

You eventually crossed the threshold and made you way to his room. Locking the door behind you, you turned to face Ethan. “So what is happening with you?” Ethan sighed “Y/N, I’m a werewolf. I turn every full moon into a ravenous creature destined to feed on flesh & blood, not caring who it is, as long as it’s carnal need for flesh and blood is fed” you nodded your head “Alright” you responded, Ethan looked surprised “Alright? Y/N, all those people” “Should not have been slain yes, but I can assume this was something you were cursed with, correct?” “Yes it was, I don’t remember seeking it out.” “So the issue should be with the one who cursed you, not yourself. Ethan, every single person at Malcolm’s house has had to step in blood, you aren’t the first and you won’t be the last. You’ve been here for me, so now I return the favor and be there for you.” “How could you be? I could rip you apart, it’s practically suicide! Why would you stand by my side through all of this suffering and pain?” “Because I love you Ethan Chandler!” The words had fallen out again, but this time you were beyond caring “I was pulled in the second I saw you at the show with that makeshift mustache, when I saw how that girl at the show had been fucked by you, I wished I could have been in her place, but as I got to know you more I started to love your personality, your kindness with Ms. Ives and myself, how you made me comfortable with my telepathy. So that’s why Ethan. Even if you can’t stand me, I cannot bare to see the one I care about distraught and upset, taking his anger out on himself for another’s curse!” You stopped, catching breath. Ethan looked shocked at all you had said.

You took the cue from Ethan’s face “I should go” “No” you turned back to see Ethan making his way toward you “I didn’t mean to take it out on you, I can see you really care despite everything, probably the only person who ever could. You really mean it?” You started up at Ethan “Every word” Ethan kissed you very deep to where a few moments passed before you split apart. You were in shock, however you were both incapable of speaking, everything already being left on the floor. Soon both of your clothes covered said floor as you fell onto Ethan’s bed, “Ride me” Ethan whisper groaned, and you obeyed. Positioning yourself above him, you lowered yourself down onto his cock, moaning out for him. Once sheathed inside your ass, you leant in for another kiss as he began to thrust forwards, him leading you in rhythm and pace, the air filling with moans from the two of you “Oh fuck Y/N, you look so beautiful. You don’t deserve to be fucked like the girl from the show, you deserve to be made love to.” Your eyes filled with tears, though more of love and some kind of happiness that you couldn’t name, Ethan looking at you understood, like he had a telepathic link & leaned up to kiss them away.

You stayed like this for a while, loving how good Ethan was fucking you. He suddenly slammed you down, taking charge of the pace, you continued to moan “Ethan keep going, I love this so much!” He grinned, picking his pace up “You’re taking me so good baby boy, clench down right there. Fuck yes” he began to grab the railing as he neared the end, you also getting close “Y/N, I’m going to cum soon, do you want me to pull out & shoot?” At this you moaned out, shooting your own load as you leaned up to kiss him “N-No, shoot in me Ethan, you’re a damn marksman, make it count.” He laughed “God Y/N, you really are something amazing. Here it comes, FUCK YES!” Ethan groaned out as he shot his load into your ass. He kissed you again, you wrapping your hands around him. Ethan for everything good & bad, was where you were most calm, and here was where you wanted to stay.

[ihopuhopwehop]

HELLO! This is my first ever fanfic I have written and it is JILY:) with a lil bit from Sirius and mentions of Snape! sorry if the format is a lil weird I copied and pasted from my notes!

One life-saving thank you kiss

The seventh year girls dormitory was engulfed in darkness. All the women asleep in their beds with the hangings drawn around them, all except Lily Evans. Lily lay in bed with her eyes towards the ceiling, her thoughts drifting to what James has told her the previous day. Animagi. James was an animagus. An illegal unregistered one. A stag. Prongs. He wouldn’t tell her why he had become an animagus but given the fact that she’d known Remus was a werewolf since third year, she figured it has something to do with that. Maybe he helped him? No that’s way too dangerous, even for bloody James Potter there’s no way he’s that reckless. Unless Remus was locked up and James was able to keep a safe distance, maybe the werewolf and stag could converse? She wasn’t sure if that would work either since deer bleated and wolves howled or barked. She wondered if Sirius knew James was an animagus...maybe Sirius is one too? After all the things James had told her she wouldn’t be surprised if Sirius followed in his footsteps. Lily looked melancholically towards the window by her bed and saw the full moon. She sent a prayer for Remus, hoping he wasn’t in too much pain. Her eyes casually glanced towards her muggle alarm clock, it read 2:37 am. Ugh. I need some sleep. She decided to think about James later and turned on her side to get more comfortable.

...

A few minutes passed and Lily decided if sleep evaded her she may as well think about James now. James and her had become good friends during sixth year and only got closer when they were both head students. She wondered if he still had a crush on her or if he outgrew it. He certainly outgrew most of his immature qualities, although sometimes his arrogance still shined through, but nobody’s perfect and he had come a long way from the prideful boy that had levicorpused Severus in 5th year. She almost wished that James and Sev would have been able to work out their differences or at least perceive the other as they ought to be perceived. But Severus and her had even grown apart so she figured it wouldn’t be possible for James and Severus to become unlikely acquaintances, especially if Severus was as into the dark arts as he seemed to be since that unforgettable day under the beech tree. Nonetheless, Lily supposed her and James got along quite well, even flirted from time to time but she still wasn’t sure if James was just charming or if he actually held romantic feelings for her. She wouldn’t mind going on a date or two with him just to see what would happen. She knew they were at least physically attracted to each other, the tension between them was evidence of that, but she wasn’t sure if it was just her feeling the attraction or if it was truly mutual. Even though she is a Gryffindor, there was no way she would ask him out without at least an inkling of how he felt towards her. Lily checked her clock again and saw that it was almost 3 am. She forced her eyes closed and tried to deepen her breathing. CREEK. CREEK. CREEK. CREEK. What was that?? It sounded like someone running up the stairs!?Lily snatched her wand off of the beside table and whipped it towards her closed hangings just as James burst through those hangings.

“Lily!” He whispered urgently, “please come quickly I need your help! Sirius is hurt and I don’t know how to fix it! He’s outside by the beech tree please hurry“ he begged desperately

Lily began to slide her slippers on and follow James out of her dormitory when she finally got a word out to him.

“James why are you guys outside past curfew, not to mention when it’s a full moon?” She cast him a look that showed how stupid she thought this was.

“ look Lily, I told you yesterday I was an animagus and I am, but so are Sirius and Peter. We use it to help Remus through his transformations because animals will not be changed into a werewolf if they are bitten or scratched. But this doesn’t mean that we won’t get injured if we aren’t careful. Tonight was one of those nights but my healing charms aren’t working like they normally do and I can’t figure out why or how to help Sirius!” He had his hands fisted in his hair as he spewed out his explanation getting more anxious and desperate as he finished.

They continued frantically racing through the main doors and towards the beech tree. And while Lily was shocked that James and the others actually did become animagi to help Remus, she knew the time to scold him about the consequences of his actions was not right now. Instead she said “ James I will help you but I’m not sure I’ll be able to do much more than you. Which healing spells have you tried and how did this happen? I need to know what I’m dealing with.” Lily spoke with newfound authority and determination now that she knew just how bad her friend could be hurt.

At this point they had reached Sirius, who was unconscious and sat up against the beech tree with his shirt torn from the neck hole and down his abdomen. This revealed several healed cuts still bright red and what looked to be unhealed bite marks that were unhealthily deep and went from his right ear and down his neck. oh no. Lily thought. It crossed one of his major arteries...

“I used Episkey for the ones here” he motioned toward the ones still trying to completely heal themselves, even though the cuts themselves were cinched together it still was red and inflamed. “And I tried Episkey and Reparifors [a charm that reverts magically induced injuries I think] on the bitemark on his neck but it hasn’t done any good. Him and Moony were just having fun and then next thing we know the wolf inside took it too far and bit him. Moony has never actually bitten any of us before” He looked at Lily with a furrowed brow and a deep frown etched on his face. “Please Lily try anything I just need my friend”

Lily immediately bent down to get a closer look at the bite mark, chewing on her lip thoughtfully and going through all of the healing charms she knew. For some reason, her mind flashed back to an afternoon with Severus.

“Look Lily! I created a healing charm!” Severus showed her the incantation written in his potions book.

“What? You created one?! How did you do that? Have you tried it on anything”

Severus paused, knowing full well he had created the incantation to heal sectumsempra, the dark magic spell he also happen to create. He chose to leave that part out of his conversation with Lily and instead said,” yes, ive tried it! You have to say it a few times but it works with major cuts and I believe it may even help with internal bleeding but I haven’t tried it on that yet.”

“Wow sev! That’s really advanced...especially for a fifth year. I’m glad you were able to create an incredibly useful spell...that should help when you have to go home over the summers...” Lily looked at him somberly and promised,” you know you’re always welcomed at my place, you don’t have to stay there-“ Severus cut her off saying, “ no, no don’t worry about it, a few...acquaintances from Slytherin said I could join them when needed and mom has been really helpful...”

the memory faded as Lily was brought back to the present. “James I’m going to try a spell that I’ve never tried before, so I don’t know how well it will work but...” Lily looked at him for permission to try the unknown spell on his brother and when James gave an imperceptible nod she slowly lifted her wand. Lily then started to whisper the incantation, hoping she said it right. “Vulnera Sanentur” she paused for a second to she if anything occurred. When nothing happened she figured she may as well try saying it multiple times. “Vulnera Sanentur...Vulnera Sanentur” After the second whispered incantation a few of the smaller bite marks had started to close while James looked on in awe and Lily prayed it continued to work. After the third whispered incantation, the larger holes slowly, but surely stuck themselves together. Lily stood there for a moment, also in awe of the spell work and how it had actually worked when James yanked her to him in a tight hug. “Thank you Lily” James breathed into her hair. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if...” He didn’t finished his sentence and instead tightened his hold on her. Lily slowly returned the gesture and then broke away to glance at the wounds and the still passed out Sirius. “James have you given him a blood replenishing potion yet?”

“I gave him one right after it happened but I supposed he lost that blood as well.” He reached into the pocket of his robes to reveal a small vial labeled in a messy scrawl “blood replenish”. He opened the vial and pressed his palm on Sirius’s forehead to press the top of his head back towards the tree and have his mouth pop open enough to pour the potion into. Sirius awoke with a deep shuddering breath and then frantically sat up, swiveling his head while trying to figure out his surroundings. Once he saw James and Lily he sank back down onto the tree. “Scared me there Padfoot, thought you were puppy chow” James spoke to him, trying to make a joke to hide how worried he had truly been. “Pfft as if Moony would take me out, I’m the only one that truly knows what he’s saying” Sirius replied while his eyes drooped from having lost so much blood and it being almost 4 am. Lily wondered if Sirius realized that she knew about their monthly escapades but she assumed he wouldn’t care so long as she had saved him. James then moved beside Sirius hoisting him up and setting Sirius’s left arm above his shoulders. “Hey Lil, could you grab his other arm, I think we should help him get back to the dorm. Pete’s already there, I sent him back once this happened and told him to keep an eye on the map and distract professors if needed.” Lily nodded her head and cautiously made her way over to Sirius and made sure to gently set his right arm over her shoulders. As she did this Sirius smirked at her,” thank you for saving me lilykins” Lily met his gaze and quirked her lips into a half smile “you’re welcome Sirius, without you I wouldn’t be able to control ole prongs over there” Sirius tilted his head down towards her his smirk growing as he said“ oh I’m sure you could have found sooomme way to control James” . Lily shook her head at him with a smile playing on her lips, “Only you would make an innuendo at a time like this Black” James looked at them affectionately before beginning to walk towards the castle.

—

They finally made it to the portrait hole at about 4:25 am, Sirius looking much better as his face regained color and he was able to walk a little bit better, but Lily still thought she ought to help them up the stairs to their dormitory. James spoke the password as Lily said “Okay Black, once we get you upstairs you need to go to sleep and make sure to get plenty of rest, you need to give your body time to recover even if it is healed with magic.” Sirius saluted her as his response. James and Lily guided him into the common room and started their trek up the stairs, only pausing once for Sirius to take a breather. They made it to the Marauder’s dormitory where Peter asked how Sirius was and opened the door for them to bring Sirius through. James lead them over to Sirius’s bed and Lily and James gently deposited him on his bed. Sirius immediately closed his eyes and started breathing deeply, worn out from the traumatic event he’d been through. Peter looked at James looking at Lily. Lily smiled at them both and headed towards their door to leave when James decided to follow her out. James left the door cracked while he and Lily stood facing each other on the landing right outside his dorm. Lily could feel the tension building around them and hoped she wasn’t just imagining it. James looked at the incredible woman in front of him with burning hazel eyes and a crooked smile on his face. He took a step towards her and placed one hand on her cheek, still gazing at her warmly. Lily brought her hands to rest on his neck while her breathing sped up and she wondered what would happen next. She thought about taking control and kissing him first, but thought it might be a little inconsiderate for her to instigate it when James’ night had been stressful enough without throwing their first kiss into the mix. While Lily had been pondering this, James had brought his other hand to her waist and lent his forehead down to meet hers. He slowly brought his nose down to gently touch hers as he whispered, “ thank you. You have no idea what this means to me.” Lily smiled at him and was about to reply when he finally closed the small space between their lips and kissed her. Lily’s heart pounded erratically with joy as she kissed him back, leaning her head back to allow them to deepen the kiss. James hand wound itself into Lily’s curly hair while his tongue gently prodded her bottom lip. she parted her lips to let his tongue meet hers. They both explored each other’s mouth with tenderness and the slight hesitation all first kisses bring. And while she had never imagined their first kiss would be after such a trying night, the kiss itself was spectacular and made her weak in the knees.

—

After they broke apart, they both stayed close to each other, their noses touching, trying to catch their breath. James’ lips stretched into a huge grin while Lily’s cheeks heated up, but she too grinned very wide.

“Was that a good “thank you for saving my best friend” kiss?”

“mmmh” Lily hummed contently “the verbal thank you would have sufficed but I definitely appreciated that thank you” Lily paused as she considered what she was about to ask and then summoned her Gryffindor courage to say “James, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend, as my date?” James face, incredibly enough, broke out into an even larger grin and whispered “why Evans, I thought you’d never ask”

The end!!! Enjoy my first ever fanfic:) ps. Spencer Stewart (the guy pictured below) could be Sirius Black jus sayin;)

[doe-wiegenliedofgreen]

Song of the Black Bird; Scene 2

Song of the Black Bird short story 

✠ Lich ~In the Country of Marlon, “Column Forest”~

.

I had crossed the sea and arrived in Marlon.

When I reached the forest nearby the capital city of Bariti, I could see a bear waving to me.

It was my friend, Eater.

When I alighted on his shoulder, Eater first asked me, “Is Lord Held doing well?”

“…Yeah, you know.” I brushed it off with a vague reply. I wasn’t going to make him worry unnecessarily by responding honestly, that he was on death’s door. “How are things on your end?”

When I turned a question around on him, Eater nodded in satisfaction.

“We’ve got an understanding. Everyone in the forest says they’ll welcome us as friends.”

“Is that so? Thank goodness.”

Frankly speaking, if it was just me alone I wouldn’t have any need to live in a forest. As long as I had a tree to rest my wings, I could be fine living just about anywhere.

But it wasn’t so for Eater. Exposing his enormous frame to the public would get us wrapped up in needless turmoil. And I didn’t want to put a friend through that kind of danger, a friend so dear that he had run out of the Millennium Tree Forest and swam through the ocean all the way here to Marlon because he missed me.

“You’ve become quite sociable with people--or perhaps I should say, sociable with animals, Eater.”

“Heheh.”

Eater seemed bashfully pleased, scratching his head.

But his expression abruptly clouded.

“…Ah. But.”

“What’s wrong?”

“They said they had a condition to it. They wanted us to solve some trouble.”

“What trouble?”

“They said that lately some weird people have been coming from town and laying waste to the forest.”

“I see. Hunters, right?”

“No.” Eater shook his head. “Those kinds of people have been there for a long time now, and because they don’t hunt more than necessary the forest animals have accepted it. –This is different, they say some group of pure white-skinned people have started randomly rampaging around.”

“Pure white skinned people…Hm.”

That was very interesting.

Perhaps I had arrived at a purpose already.

But then—

“I can’t say anything on it unless I actually see them for myself.”

“I hear they always show up after the sun’s gone down. They’re more likely to appear on nights when the moon is close to full.”

“…As I recall, tonight should be a full moon. Wonderful. Well then, shall we go dole out some punishment for the ruffians that are disrupting the peace of our forest?”

“Yeah! I’ll do it!”

“Naturally. I am the brains of this outfit, after all. It is your job to fell our enemies…However, try not to kill them if possible. We can’t afford to get caught up in any more troublesome developments. Try to drive them off with moderate wounds.”

“Got it!”

Well—

That was assuming that our foes were mere human beings.

.

But that night.

Under the full moon, as I waited on a tree branch fighting drowsiness, just as Eater said these things appeared.

In number—there were perhaps ten. Certainly their skin was white, so much so that they seemed entirely bloodless, and most of them were naked. They weren’t wielding anything that looked like weapons.

No…One of them is different.

There was a woman in the center of the group. Unlike the others, she seemed to be a normal human being. Her skin wasn’t that pale, she was wearing a black outfit, and—

In her hand she was clasping a red wineglass.

Without meaning to, a laugh fell from my mouth.

Bingo. I’ve found it. A Vessel of Deadly Sin that rules a demon!

While taking care not to be spotted by the group, I flew down to Eater’s shoulder as he crouched in a nearby clump of bushes.

“Eater. …Eater, wake up.”

“—Hm? Right. I’m awake, I’m awake,” Eater replied, half asleep.

“They’ve come, our enemies.”

“Oh. Well then, we gonna do it?”

“Yeah. But—We have a change in plan.”

“…?”

“There’s no need to go easy on them. It seems our targets are not humans but rather ‘dead soldiers’.”

“Dead soldiers?”

“Walking human dead. They’re dead from the start, so there won’t be any problems in doing anything further to them.”

“Okay, I see.”

“Ah, only, there is a woman in the center—she’s holding a wineglass, and she’s an exception. Don’t kill her—just knock her unconscious.”

“The woman with the wineglass. Got it.”

Eater stood, and then with me still on his shoulder he began to walk in front of the intruders.

“…Ho. What’s this—”

The woman with the wineglass gazed at Eater with great interest, despite her surprise.

“—A bear, how odd. It’s the first time I’ve seen one so big. …Well, good. This is a rare opportunity to see the combat strength of the dead soldiers.”

The woman raised the wineglass, up, and then all the dead soldiers glared at Eater at once.

It seemed that all of them now regarded the enormous bear before them as an enemy.

I was correct; unmistakably this woman was manipulating the dead soldiers by borrowing the power of the demon who dwelt in the wineglass.

“Come…My dead soldiers, devour this bear!”

In concert with the woman’s cry, the dead soldiers launched their assault on Eater.

.

In the end, it was shorter than I had anticipated.

Without even ten minutes passing by, the dead soldiers had all been reduced to rubbish, and the woman who’d been controlling them was on the ground in shock before Eater.

“Shit! Useless bloody corpses!” she spat.

The fighting spirit had not yet faded from her eyes as she glared at Eater.

But the outcome was clear.

“—Wrong, woman.”

I spoke to her from Eater’s shoulder.

“--! The bird…speaks!?”

“The weak one is not the dead soldiers—it’s you. It seems you haven’t yet gained full control over the demon’s power.”

“…Tch.”

“I do understand. You’ve been practicing controlling these dead soldiers here. However…You’ve had a bit of bad luck. Of all things, we have chosen this forest as our home.”

“Just…who are you!? You’re not just animals!”

“That wineglass is beyond you. Hand it over. If you do, we will spare—”

“Answer the question!”

The woman threw a knife at me while screaming.

I deftly moved to the side, but I failed to get away, the knife grazing my left wing.

“--! My beautiful feathers…you’ve wounded them…”

I could feel myself beginning to simmer with welling anger from my heart.

“…Eater. Please dispense some punishment.”

Eater drew close to her, and slapped her right cheek with his open paw.

“Hwoogh!?”

The woman’s body was blown to the side.

“…”

She didn’t get back up.

“Looks like she’s passed out. That’s what she gets for being such a disobedient child. …Anyway, I think perhaps we shall accept the wineglass now.”

The wineglass had fallen from the woman’s hand, and tumbled to the bushes nearby.

“Hey. What is that glass?” Eater suddenly asked me.

“Inside this vessel—is the ‘Demon of Gluttony’. Your relative.”

“I don’t know anybody called that.”

“Ah…that’s right.”

He had also had his memories stolen by Held.

But well, once he’d reunited with “him” dwelling in the wineglass—that might serve as a jumpstart for Eater regaining his memories.

More important than that was…the dead soldiers.

Earlier had been a bit of a let-down, but still a power that lets one move dead bodies was extremely fascinating for me.

That power, and the “mud doll” technique that I had—if I combined the two, maybe.

Maybe that would bring me one step closer to the completion of a “new race” that I sought.

I landed on the ground and got closer to the glass.

“Come—Show yourself. Our colleague residing in the vessel…’Demon of Gluttony’!”

In response to my call, the vessel began to emit light.

The light eventually rose up from the vessel, and gradually began to take on a human shape.

.

That form must have been “him”, who I knew so well—

.

No.

It wasn’t.

.

It wasn’t “him”.

.

“—Who are you?” the light asked me.

But that was my line.

“Who are you!?”

“I…am the ‘Demon of Gluttony’—”

“No you’re not! The ‘Demon of Gluttony’ that I knew isn’t anyone like y—”

“Huh…Does that make you an acquaintance of that pig?”

It was a joking woman’s voice.

Without a doubt, it didn’t belong to “him”.

What did this mean?

While I had been living in the forest—

What had been occurring in the world outside?

Eater, who clearly didn’t get the situation at all, spoke to the light. “You my ‘rel-a-tive’?”

“Oh my, what a delicious looking little bear—but regrettably, I am not related to you.”

“Well then, who’re you?”

“I am the ‘Demon of Gluttony’. My name is—”

.

--And that became my first meeting with “her”.

<<prev------directory

[a-collection-of-villainous-aus]

BLIND AU

(Drabble one)

(I do not claim to be a fantastic or even a good writer, I just write to share, if you do not like just scroll on by <3)

For once he’d taken a nap, settled down into his office chair, leaning against the plush velvet cushioning and sighed contentedly.

Yes he deserved this, after dealing with humans and all their moronic ways he needed it and the demon could not deny this sleep thing that Earth dwellers did was indeed relaxing.

Black Hat had even come to the conclusion that he must’ve been wearing down as his right eye had started to become impaired no doubt due to exhaustion, rest would fix everything right up.

He was blind as a bat in the other not that had ever been disclosed to the public or even his workers, why should such information be shared with such weaklings, so here the king of all beasts slept, curtains drawn, feet up, resting in hell knows how long…honestly after Demencia and Flugs antics this should have been done much sooner.

SOMETIME LATER.

Black Hat stirred, stretching bones cracking, hmm must’ve slept with his mouth open, it was dry, reaching out in the darkness easily finding his special brand in the draw and pouring himself a shot, still half asleep and drinking it down, warmth burning down his throat into his belly.

Ignoring that there was a sense of something being terribly wrong…. With himself.

BECAUSE he was the great and terrible Black Hat nothing was ever wrong with him.

Hat blinked and rubbed at his eye, hmm everything was dark, well of course he’d shut the curtains that was what it was!

Of course…this was an excuse…complete denial as he knew full well he could see in the darkest of places.

Not to worry, maybe his night vision was playing up, something he had devoured could be causing it.

Yes, yes that was it.

The demon knew his office well enough that it was easy enough to travel it blindly, opening the curtains he stared out at nothing.

“My…no moon, or stars tonight, it must be particularly late for all the humans to have their lights out.”

He raised a brow, ignoring the fact that he could blatantly feel the sun’s warmth on his coal skin.

Oh! Maybe it was his inner eyelid, that could be closed...only...he didn't have one.

So that meant, these last few months, the issues that had been occurring with his sight was not exhaustion.

Well clearly there was only one way to react.

Demencia was currently hanging over Flug, keeping a vial out of reach, wanting attention from the usually busy scientist, laughing at his frustrated growl

"I need to finish in time for the deadline you know Jefe has been less patient...well more so than usual of late!"

"What this little thing?"

She teased dangling said little thing between her fingertips and pulling it out of reach just as he made a grab for it.

"Too slow nerd!"

" Demencia! "

The doctor rubbed at his temples before scrubbing his hands down hands down over his face, paper bag creasing, this really was the last thing he needed with all the recent mishaps and their near completely technologically impaired boss who seemed to be even worse than usual and of course whose fault was it when things went wrong!

Of course it wasn't Demencia's and no it couldn't Black Hats cause he was so damn perfect...well he was but STILL!

The blame always went to him.

"We can watch a film or some YouTube videos later, just let me finish my work. "

Hearing the tone of Flugs voice, how tired he clearly was, she could tell he was on the verge of pushing it too far, especially after Black Hat had honestly been harder on both of them, even she'd noticed it despite her love for him.

Neither of them dared to ask if anything was wrong and honestly he would only deny it.

There were occasions off camera where he sat with them, talked about past victories, the demon did not quite hate them to the extent he showed on screen, but trying to get personal information from him...honestly you were more likely to get a river of blood from a stone.

"Fine...I'll keep prodding you if you fall asleep."

Then breaking the silence a cry inhuman, tearing though out Hat Manor, followed by other ungodly sounds, crashing, banging, heavy foot steps running through hallways frantically.

They all knew Black Hats screams of rage, those were not that, what in all of hell had happened?

Flug had been about to reach out to his creation and was surprised when 505 walked on by and opened the lab door, cautiously mind you, anyone would have to be mad to just barge on out after hearing those horrifying sounds.

The corridor was perfectly intact so their master had not been past them, though with the noise one would have thought otherwise.

505 looked back and waved a paw motioning for them to follow, any other occasion Demencia would have been shoving by to run into Black Hat's waiting arms or squealing delightedly to see one of his monstrous forms, Flug would have been terrified but overwhelmed with scientific curiosity.

Leaving the bright, sterile lab for rich red and black hallways darkened by crimson windows and unlit ebony chandeliers, walls lined with oil paintings of Black Hat as well as other objects, peculiar in nature and no doubt what their Boss assumed made for a posh high-class gentle man of the day...though if Black Hat was up to date his garb would not be so Victorian.

(Not that either Flug or Demencia complained and had even agreed that coat looked dashing on him.)

There were no longer and footsteps, just an array of demonic screams leaving Black Hats maw from wherever he was, it appeared as if the bear knew though and they followed his lead, Flug was sure Demencia knew to but judging by her expression, even she knew something this time was different and not for the better.

[austennerdita2533]

A/N: Here’s the Part 3 to my TO 5x06 Road Trip AU. Full of all the fluff, pillow talk, feels, and bed sharing Klaroline deserve! I hope you like it because I almost gave myself a feels attack writing it. *angel halo*  

On FF.net: (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

On A03: (Here)

Happy reading!

xx Ashlee Bree

In The Stillness of the Dark

Klaus kicked a foot free of the sheets. He rested it atop the comforter and exposed his pant leg to the knee as Caroline reached up to extinguish the lamp. Dousing the room around them into comfortable darkness, and privacy.

After a shower, a phone update from Freya, some takeout with a side of Runaway Daughter strategy, a cheap bottle of wine from the convenience store down the road, three episodes of Game of Thrones on the TV, and an argument that sprouted over who loved the left side of the bed more (which Klaus won - but barely - by declaring that “old sleeping habits only ripen with age, sweetheart, and I doubt you want me accidentally invading your space whilst we sleep”), the two of them had settled into bed for the night (he on the left, she on the right) with nothing more than a blanket and too much history between them.

However, as they lay down face-to-face, pillow-touching-pillow, a gentle kind of trust and contentment descended. Draping over them both like a blanket that tickled their nerves clear through to their toes. Freeing them of the awkwardness, but not the fluttering tension, they might’ve endured in this scenario years ago because their connection was no longer frightening. It was no longer unbreachable, or avoided for ‘reasons’—

And neither was he.

This borrowed bed, with this Hybrid mastermind tucked inside of it only inches away, felt familiar to Caroline in a way that was warm. Plush. Cozy. Safe. And promising. Which, ironically, were all things she needed but weren’t those she believed she’d experience with a man like him, or with any man at all. Ever. And sure as hell not all at once…after years of supernatural plots, enemies, teaching, magical kids, and widowed dreams.

It was a natural and comforting feeling, though, the weight of Klaus beside her, the smell of his damp curls and cologne-soaked skin so close she could almost taste it. So close she could almost taste him again.

He was daunting in all his Henly-wearing, sweat-pantsed glory, though. Like resin she couldn’t rinse from her heightened senses.

He was shiver-eliciting in ways Caroline once refused to acknowledge, but now couldn’t help but see and admire clearly. No longer afraid of what that revealed about her, or what it meant about them someday.

Like a rock against her side, Klaus was sturdy and smooth.

Propped on one elbow, his wisdom peaked out from the stubble of his jaw, dark and worn against his fair ageless cheek, as he placed the remote on the nightstand. Wit battling with tact each time he glanced back to chat with her in those low, drawled British tones. Assurance mixed with calculation creased his forehead, too. Just above the eyebrows. It gave him a cheshire cat aspect sometimes when he was determined to be appeased or knew he was right, which occurred at regular intervals throughout their acquaintanceship, but not constantly by any means. Vulnerability marked the lines of his form if one knew where to look, after all.

And Caroline did.

Around the eyes, across gripped-white knuckles, behind twitching muscles and hardly audible sighs, between long stretches of unblinking silence: these were the places she located Klaus’ fears and feelings of inadequacy. It was also where his deepest desires hid in plain sight.

Entranced, her interest piqued, she never could help but analyze everything about him she could glean.  

For instance, although he never moved or flinched nearer since they lay down, Klaus regarded the small distance between their bodies so softly, so acutely, that Caroline wondered why he never tried to make it disappear, eradicating the gap between them completely. It would’ve been easy for him to accomplish. Simpler than a reach-and-scoot; faster than the time it’d take for her to decline. It wouldn’t have taken long at all for him to swallow her like a giant spoon coming for the light of the moon.

There was something about how his smile spread to stretch across his lips gradually, gingerly, however; curling upwards to melt the shadows of his face into gold because their companionable vicinity was like champagne to him - not necessarily his first choice, but worth every fizzy sip she offered - which told Caroline he’d drink up the barest drop of hope he could find in her. It reminded her, again, how he was the kind of man who not only waited with relish, but stuck to his vows with purpose that never strayed.

Klaus owned a patient heart. And his had stayed with her, it seemed.

The fact that he refrained from touching her again, particularly when their pinkies hovered mere centimeters apart under the covers, was evidence of this. It not only showed great restraint on his part, but greater disappointment and regret on hers. Though she wasn’t sure why? Not at first, anyway.

As it happened, Klaus and Caroline were stiff from travel, emotionally drained, and drowsy - but not drowsy enough to keep from thinking in silence, apparently. Or from staring. A lot.

Eyes met eyes like magnets. Or like boomerangs which had finally circled back around to an inevitable destination.

Their locked gaze became unobtrusive in its intimate fragility because serenity gusted over them like beams of moonlight from the window. Trickling in with milky whites to shoo away the demons they each carried in their heads that rattled bones of insecurity and doubt. Rankling them together in acceptance of this one moment, of this one shared night.  

Bad timing, obstacles, and awaiting problems and responsibilities seemed to diminish the further they snuggled into their pillows. The world around them shrinking and shrinking and shrinking until it left them alone together in silhouette, no more than two. Just her and him.

The dimness heavy’d their yawns in such a manner that Caroline knew it wouldn’t be long before their tired lashes fell to rest against their cheeks as the hum of the heater lulled them into the quiet after goodnight; especially, now, since the pitch of their voices was diminishing to that of a whisper and slurred syllables already. For the only reason conversation held out at all was because, despite the lateness of the hour, neither one of them wished to be the first victim to surrender to sleep.

“I don’t need to worry about any Edward Cullen-type surprises from you tonight, right?” Caroline said as she slipped her right hand, flat, under her cheek, to nestle against the mattress.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well? Do I? You are an Original.”

Klaus scratched at his chin, chuckling, “I believe I don’t quite follow your question, love. Can you rephrase it for me, by chance?”

“Just tell me if you have any other weird Original-exclusive abilities. I think I deserve to be made aware of them all before it’s too late, don’t you?”

“Before it’s too late?” he said.

“Yes.”

“Too late for what? For me to read your thoughts, to convince you bunny blood will never fill you up? Specificity would be helpful here, I think.”

“Oh, please,” Caroline rolled her eyes. “Don’t be daft. Not only do I not adhere to the bunny diet, but you of all people aren’t telepathic. Like…at all.”

“Not since I met you, that’s for bloody certain.”

She frowned at this but said nothing. Klaus rubbed at the corners of his eyes then peered at her sagely as he plopped his chin in his palm, and sighed,

“Listen, if you mean to ask if I sparkle in the darkness after midnight, then the answer is no. I do not. I prefer to turn my diamond-glow off whenever I’m in shared sleeping quarters, you see, so as not to appear overindulgent, inconsiderate, or rude. I assume you know I would do this for you of all people? Clearly,” he added with a sweeping gesture at his perfectly unlit skin and the clock behind him, which read 1:02 A.M., as if this facetious remark explained everything.

“You’re ridiculous,” Caroline replied with a snort. “Are you always like this?”

“Rarely.”

She humphed.

“So, what, I’m the exception then? I bring it out in you in full-force or something?”

He shrugged. Letting her think whatever she wished. “Ridiculous questions deserve ridiculous answers, sweetheart.”

“I only wanted to know if you’ll be able to sleep tonight, that’s all,” Caroline said drily.

“Ah.”

“Is that so terrible?”

“No. That’s, uh - it’s actually…” Struggling for purchase, Klaus flipped onto his stomach and crossed his forearms under his chin so he could blink at the headboard. “Why couldn’t you have asked me that to start, Caroline? You and I are above these silly pretenses. We always were,” he said, side-eyeing her softly.

“I know I just—” she exhaled sharply, “You have a lot on your mind with Hope, your family, New Orleans, and you’re sifting through many questions and frustrations with magical complications, and I…well, I didn’t want to provoke you into a discussion about anything unless you wanted to share your thoughts with me. That’d be—and I’d never want to make you feel, you know…”

“You’re cute when you’re ruffled,” Klaus cut in.

Caroline skirted past the unexpected flattery, but not without pausing to blush first.  “Anyway, the point is I’m here for you. I’ve got your back either way, whatever happens.”

“You’re—but I’m so—?” His voice was thick. “Thank you,” he choked out.

“I mean, I’m not afraid to kick you in the ass when occasion requires it, but I also know when it’s wrong or inappropriate to prod. So, yeah,” she puckered her cheeks, “I figured it’d be easier to warn you about what’ll happen if I catch you watching me sleep like Cullen instead.”

“Which is…?” he said with a quick change of tone and subject.

Caroline’s lips twitched upwards, broadening into a smile as she tilted her head to consider him, “I’ll freak.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep,” she said with an overemphasized pop of the ‘p.’ “And I’ll retaliate in ways you can’t imagine, mister.”

“That sounds serious, indeed.”

She nodded, jostling her elbow at him, “I am part monster, you know,” she winked.

“Well, then,” he drawled and cracked his knuckles, “I suppose it’s too bad I left my Caroline Forbes handbook packed in my suitcase, now, isn’t it? Or I’d jot this detail down straight away for safe keeping.”

“I think you can remember it.” You remember everything else, she wanted to say but didn’t.

“Perhaps,” Klaus acquiesced. “That said, I find there are no incentives worthwhile enough for me to try at present, do you? And I’m a man who needs motivation. Besides,” he tapped his index finger against his lips, leaning in with a devilish glint, “to stop me you’d have to gouge out my eyeballs. So go on,” he smirked in challenge, “I’d love to see you try.”

He grinned at Caroline’s reaction: a sharp intake of breath followed by a rustle of covers, a playful shove, a squeal, a pillow to his face, and an ‘Oh my God, you are such a freaking creeeep! I can’t believe you said that.’

They rolled and tousled for some minutes afterwards, their separate sides long forgotten. Giggling all the while. Klaus repeatedly (and unsurprisingly) allowed himself to be pinned to the mattress by her knees, which she used to her advantage at long last by securing his wrists against the headboard then pressing her forehead against his until he froze, the sea of his irises flecking with gold waves as he became prey instead of predator. And happily so. That’s when she threatened to compel herself her own private town to sleep in if he couldn’t promise to keep his eyes closed til morning, or to at least try.

Klaus relented without too much protest after that.

When Caroline lauded her easy success as they curled back beneath the covers, however, he told her it was because he’d hate for her to be lonely. “You deserve better than that,” he added as he reached to pull the sheet over her shoulder. Fingers ghosting over her bare skin.

Something about the way he said it - flat with no sarcasm, no hesitation; pointed in sincerity but also reflective in a way that scratched at rawness in his throat - twisted knots in her belly so hard she could barely breathe. Or speak. Or do anything except reel, astounded and gawking. To know that Klaus distinguished between “alone” and “lonely” so profusely, the fact that he considered how those things affected a person in big or small ways, touched Caroline’s heart almost as much as it saddened it. For how long had he felt this way, himself, over the centuries? How often in her young, ageless life already had she?

A keen pang fluttered in her chest at this: revealing another thumping tether of similarity.

Then, before she realized it, one of her hands had slipped out from under her head of its own volition and reached forward to palm his cheek. Tenderness bursting toward him in a rapid rippling stream,

“So do you,” Caroline said like the coo of a dove, “so do you.” Her fingertips trailed circles along his jaw, lingering by the corner of his mouth only to drop against his forearm with a pinch after a moment. “Now get some sleep. You’re old as dirt and probably need more under-eye concealer in the morning than I do.”

“After you, love. Ladies first and all that,” Klaus smiled.

“Creep,” she breathed in reply.

Caroline shut her eyes and listened to the symphonic thud thud of his heartbeat after that. Too cozy to remove her arm from where it clutched his in caress. He didn’t seem to mind. And when she stirred a few hours later, cradled against his chest on the left side of the bed, breaking her own rule to study the smoothness of his closed eyelids, to map the constellations of freckles on his neck; plucking at her own curiosities about his soft defenselessness and longevity in the stillness of the dark while he slept, she found neither did she.

[astronomyparkers]

Skyline

Warnings: None

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Thank you to all those who followed me and read my first fic!  I’m thinking of doing a part two to this one, so if you like it, let me know!

Your fire escape had always been your favourite part of your apartment.  Situated outside your bedroom window, you had spent countless hours of your life lounging on the metal steps, reading a book or catching up on some homework.  Last summer, you had wound a string of fairy lights around the rails, which were coated in shiny dark paint.  Your landlady had protested at first but, after you proved that they weren’t endangering the use of the fire escape in any way, she had let you keep them.  The small victory had brought a smile to your face, and now your escape was even cozier than before, and was still just as cozy a year later.  This year’s summer brought scorching heat and clear nights, and you spent most of your free time out on your escape, trying to catch a breeze.

You sat on your fire escape now, wearing a lightweight hoodie and pajama shorts, doodling in a journal.  School was out for the week and tomorrow didn’t require a six am wake up call, leaving you free to stay up late and admire the Queens skyline at night.  It was nights like these that you loved the most; nights that seemed like they were pulled straight from a movie scene, with stars that glimmered like flames, a full moon bigger than you had ever seen before, and the sounds of the city mixing in with the quiet melodies that drifted out of the speakers propped up on your window sill.  You would be content for the rest of your life if you could keep moments like these forever.

Of course, no sooner had the thought crossed your mind that the scene in front of you changed. To your left, there was a burst of light a few blocks away, and flames began to rise around the building. Sirens quickly began sounding, drawing nearer and nearer as the flames grew.  Despite the noise, you could hear shouts in the distance, and you got up from your seat on the stairs to see if you could find out the cause of the light.

You leaned over the railing as far as you could safely go, straining to see.  For a moment, there was nothing but the fire, until the burst of light occurred again, bigger and brighter than before.  You could feel the heat of it ripple across your face, and you stumbled back in shock.  Emerging from the source of the fire was a swinging figure, rushing away from the scene. You leaned over the rail again, even farther, squinting through the darkness to make out the identity of the figure.  After a moment, with the aid of the moonlight as the figure swung up through your street, you realized that it was the masked hero of Queens, Spider-Man.

Although anyone and everyone knew of Spider-Man, you had never seen the crusader in person. Of course, you admired him; there was something to be said for someone who spends their life trying to help others. And he seemed so down to earth—one of your friends at Midtown said that they had spotted him helping an old lady with directions, and another spoke of how he left notes for lost bikes and the like. A boy in your AP literature class claimed that he had been saved by Spider-Man a few months ago, and that he sounded like he was a teenage boy, not actually a man quite yet.  His bravery seemed to extend far past his age.

At that moment, Spider-Man’s bravery wasn’t the only thing extended too far.  While your mind had wandered to what you knew of him, you had leaned further and further over the guard railing.  Your train of thought was halted as you lost your balance on the bottom half of the metal bar (when had you climbed up onto it?) and you began to pitch forward.  Frantically, you tried to grab onto the railing and pull yourself back up, but no sooner had the thought crossed your mind that you felt yourself pushed back onto the safety of the fire escape.

Confused, you looked up to see Spider-Man in front of you, his arms still around your shoulders from where he had quickly grabbed you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, concern apparent in his tone (his voice was high but definitely male; it appeared the boy from your AP literature class had told the truth).  

You nodded your head, swallowing hard.  You were still a little shaky from the adrenaline of the scare. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Are, um, are you okay?”

“I—yeah, um, I’m okay,” Spider-Man answered confusedly, dropping his arms. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, you kind of just, like…blew up a restaurant.” You bit your lip. “At least, I think it was a restaurant?  It was in the general vicinity of Vizzini’s.”

“I didn’t blow up Vizzini’s; the three guys who are currently webbed to a lamppost across the street blew up Vizzini’s.” Spider-Man defended himself, crossing his arms.

“Either way, it doesn’t make my favourite Italian restaurant any less blown up, does it?” You tilted your head. “Sorry.  That was rude.  I’m usually less rude?  I think it’s the shock of almost falling off a seventeen story high fire escape. Thank you, by the way.  I should’ve said that before.  That was also kind of rude.”

Spider-Man laughed. “It’s okay.  I’m just glad I swung by in time.”

You smiled gratefully. “Thank you, really.  I owe you. Even if you did blow up my favourite Italian place.”

“Well, thank you for asking if I’m okay,” Spider-Man replied. “No one ever does.  And if you need a new favourite restaurant, there’s a great Thai place over on 68th.  Amazing larb.”

“I’ll check it out.” You nodded.

Silence fell between you two.  What did you say now?  The shock was wearing off, and you realized that you enjoyed talking to Spider-Man. However, you were also aware that it was Spider-Man. What else were you supposed to say?

“I like your drawing,” The masked hero said after a moment, pointing to your notebook full of doodles that still sat on the stairs.  It was flipped open to a sketch you had done of some flowers in a park, to practice some shading.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” You walked over to the notebook and picked it up. “It’s just a little hobby, nothing big.”

“Hey, hobbies are great!  They don’t need to be big.” Spider-Man replied. “Were you drawing tonight?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, a bit.  I like to spend time out here, especially at night.”

“Can I see?” Spider-Man reached a hand out for the notebook.

You shrugged again, passing the book to him.  You weren’t really one for showing your doodles to people, but then again, this guy just saved your life.  You weren’t really in a position to complain.

Spider-Man accepted the book and flipped through, stopping at the drawing you did tonight. It was of the Queens skyline with all the stars shining above.

“This is my favourite,” He said.  Although you couldn’t see his mouth, you could almost hear the smile. “It’s a good night for drawing, huh?”

He passed the notebook back to you, and you tore the page out. “Here.  Keep it.  As a thank you.”

Spider-Man shook his head. “No, thank you, but I can’t.  It’s yours.”

“No, seriously, it’s just going to stay in the book forever,” You gave a small smile. “It’s really not a big deal.  I want you to have it.  And look, there’s Vizzini’s there; it’s like a memoriam for the best Italian place ever.”

Spider-Man folded the drawing and tucked it into one of his black bracelets.  You realized, looking closer, that they were his web shooters.

“Thank you, uh…” Spider-Man trailed off. “I didn’t catch your name?”

“Y/N.” You smiled again. “And you’re welcome.”

Spider-Man glanced over his shoulder, towards the burning building.  You had almost forgotten about the fire. “I have to go,” He took a few steps back, towards the rail. “But be careful next time, okay?”

“I will, but you better be careful too, Spider-Man.” You gave him a long look, stressing each word.

The hero nodded, and with a wave, he was off, swinging from web to web.

By Monday morning, your friends knew of your meeting with Spider-Man, and by lunch, it seemed like the entire school was flocking towards you to hear the story.  Once the day was almost over, you felt like you had repeated the tale thousands of times, yet people still clamoured for all the details you could give.  A small group had gathered around your locker, looking at you eagerly.

“He took the drawing with him?” A girl from your calculus class said in awe. “That’s so cool!”

“Yeah, you’re so lucky, Y/N,” Another classmate said, shaking their head.

“I mean, I did almost fall from a hundred feet,” You reminded them. “And accused him of destroying my favourite restaurant.  He probably took the drawing so he could show it to the Avengers and tell them about the weird girl who jumps over fire escape railings.”

“I think you’re wrong,” A voice from next to you piped up. “I think he appreciated you asking how he was doing.”

You glanced beside you to see Peter Parker, a kid who sat behind you in physics.  You weren’t particularly close to Peter, but you had talked a few times, and your lockers were located in the same row.

“You think so, Peter?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, well…no one ever asks the hero if they’re okay,” Peter shrugged, opening his locker and placing a few books inside. “They just kind of assume they are.  Everyone likes being treated like they matter.”

“You make a good point.” You smiled. “Thanks, Peter.”

“No problem.” Peter gave you a shy smile.

Just then, the bell rang, signalling it was time to get to final period.  The group around your locker began to disperse, but not without one final question.

“Do you think you’ll ever see him again?” Someone asked curiously.

“Nah,” You grinned wryly and shook your head. “I can’t imagine that a random citizen who hangs out on fire escapes and doodles is of much interest to a superhero.”

With that final comment, everyone parted ways to their final class.  Only Peter stayed behind, saying he would see you in physics.

Peter grabbed out the books he needed for his final class, and looked at the drawing he had taped up in the back of his locker.  The Queens skyline seemed to shine, even in plain graphite pencil.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Y/N.” Peter grinned to himself and shut his locker. “You’re a lot more interesting than you think.”

{part II}

[sugarpinecrews]

title: scattered word count: 1,795 ship(s): n/a, implied minor ot3 if you squint warning(s): detailed discussions of necromancy, death, murder, violence, body horror, gore, decomposition, and possible desecration of the dead a/n: prequel to this fic. 

         Steven stands straight, hands buried deep in his front pockets, gaze colder than usual. In the moonlight, his eyes have a strange sort of glimmer, as if tears trying to hide, or, a more likely reasoning, the unknown striking fear in his long stopped heart. At his side stands Cib, his eyes dancing erratically between the ground, his feet, and Jeremy, who responds to this sight only with silent anticipation, an opening for the pair to explain whatever mess they’d found themselves in this time.

         Emotional withdrawal came with few downsides, especially given his current lifestyle. Although his friends easily passed as typical humans, Jeremy knew their secrets; the vampire too stubborn to acknowledge a body turning feral, a werewolf too ignorant to distance himself when instinct takes hold, the demon who has gone through countless expendable bodies in his centuries spent in this realm --- Jeremy lived as a lone necromancer, a specialist in the dark arts, and this lifestyle came with its own set of secrets. The collection of bodies hidden in the freezers downstairs, the organs lining shelves and tables, the vials of indiscernible contents --- his roommates knew to never step foot in his work space, as did they know to never question the chanting, the strange scents emanating from behind closed doors. The others knew even less, only that remains, rather dead or dying, could be given to him with no questions asked. He would find a use for them, and that would be that.

           Recognizing signs of death became second nature as time passed by, impromptu autopsies occurring in a darkened basement in the middle of another Friday night. A vampire’s attack presented much different destruction than an accidental gunshot, or vehicular manslaughter, or strangulation, and Jeremy knew to never question his friends’ decisions. He could only assume the raw, feral drive a vampire must experience, and he saw no need to pry for the details; just as he didn’t question their motive or reasoning, they knew to never question him, never asking what occurred once a body has been taken in by their friend. This was probably for the best; he doubts the men, even despite their immortal or supernatural instincts, could quite stomach his nightly routines and rituals. 

             Often, regardless of the one responsible, the delivery would be made by Steven. A simple text would be sent --- a short ‘on my way’, or a quick ‘got you another one’ --- and Jeremy would free the space necessary to house the newest addition to his collection. Typically, too, the body would still be in decent enough condition; if a vampire has killed a victim, fatality usually didn’t lie in blunt trauma, or disruptive entry against a cavity somewhere --- it would be blood loss, bite marks against the throat or shoulder blades, and Jeremy could work with this. Cleaning blood from skin was a simple job, one he could busy himself with once the evening has fallen dark, or when the world has yet to awaken.

            It was rare a body was gifted to him that wasn’t the direct cause of Steven’s rage. There was the handful of mistakes --- the ones Cib accidentally shot, or found himself drunkenly beating to death outside of another bar somewhere --- but those tended to be the only exceptions. Jeremy knew the third member of the group committed atrocities, knew James more than capable of doing so, and always wondered when he would receive one of these all too unlucky victims. Curiosity, though unspoken, piqued at just the thought of the damage a werewolf could do to a body; still, this didn’t strike him with any unnecessary concern when the full moon again cycled their way. He even joked with his roommates about the supposed dangers of its influence, taking pleasure in scaring the more timid of the two.

            Night fell hours ago, and Jeremy retreated to busy himself downstairs well before this occurred; he intended to reach out to the spirit of one of Steven’s latest victims, a woman in her early twenties that appeared to be in pristine, healthy condition prior to the attack. He had no pressing matters to discuss with her; perhaps he could ask of her death, receive details regarding his friend’s M.O. --- he wouldn’t ask the man himself, as he didn’t think the topic that dire, but he had nothing better to do tonight. His roommates busied themselves upstairs, presumably with a movie or video games, and he considered, more than once, sneaking up behind them, frightening them once more of the horrors awakened by the full moon shining bright outside. These ideas were quickly dashed, shoved aside in favor of his work, and the joke was soon forgotten. It isn’t until his phone buzzes on the table nearby, vibrating with a new text message, that he remembers his friends possibly missing his presence upstairs.

          The phone vibrates once, then again. Upon the second message, he decides to humor the men upstairs, hoping the response will dissuade them from coming to physically find him. Materials are placed aside, and he moves to grab his phone. Immediately, he is puzzled by the messages. Both from Steven, they contain little Jeremy has come to expect from him.

          We have something for you, on our way.

          We’re so sorry.

          The latter of the two is strange, something Jeremy, in all his time knowing the vampire, has yet to experience firsthand; what would the man have done to have any guilt over? Even when corpses are gifted his way, another victim of the immortal’s latest anger, there was never any regret, never any negative response. Then came the inclusive phrasing, the ‘we’ rather than ‘I’ --- who was with him? Cib, James? He didn’t like the idea of a group coming into his home, much less his personal work space; he opens the text message completely, ensuring the read receipt will appear, and then places his phone back onto the table. He leaves this here as he leaves the room, heading upstairs to see if his roommates were still up --- it was nearly eleven in the evening, but he wouldn’t put it past the pair to stay up even later.

           Upon entering the living room, he finds the space abandoned. Assuming the two went to bed, he busies himself cleaning up the mess they left behind, ensuring that he’ll be near the front door when the company finally arrives. He hopes the encounter will be brief, just as each other drop-off has been; Steven will park nearby, hand the cadaver over, and then disappear into the night. He wouldn’t have time to do much with the corpse tonight, given the spells and rituals he still intended on participating in once this interaction has ended, but it would give him something to do tomorrow, and for that he was thankful.

            Perhaps a half hour passes by before a knock at the door is heard. Jeremy approaches, readying himself for whatever nonsense was soon to envelope him, but nothing could prepare him for the presence awaiting him on the other side of the door.

           Steven stands straight, hands buried deep in his front pockets, gaze colder than usual. In the moonlight, his eyes have a strange sort of glimmer, as if tears trying to hide, or, a more likely reasoning, the unknown striking fear in his long stopped heart. At his side stands Cib, his eyes dancing erratically between the ground, his feet, and Jeremy, who responds to this sight only with silent anticipation, an opening for the pair to explain whatever mess they’d found themselves in this time.

         Uh, shit, Steven starts, stuttering his way into an explanation. He bites his bottom lip, takes in a shallow breath; Jeremy is surprised to see such a distressed presentation, but he doesn’t express this, only allows silence to give way to more of an explanation. He had a busy night planned, after all, and didn’t wish to waste any more time than necessary with this. 

        It’s the full moon, Cib interjects, and Steven’s expression paints one of annoyance at the words. Jeremy supposes the moon has something to do with their odd behavior, but has little time to focus on this possibility before the men before him continue.

        James freaked out and, uh, Steven pauses yet again as he explains, takes in yet another fearful, short breath. Minuscule mannerisms create an air of regret, one that is rather foreign to Jeremy, but this, too, isn’t rightly expressed, mostly due to his lack of interest in reasoning. Offhandedly, he hopes they’ve brought him one of James’ victims; he will soon curse himself for such a hope.

        He killed Parker, Cib interjects yet again, and it is met with the same response as before; Steven looks to him in astonishment, as if saving those words for a later date, but Jeremy just continues to stand there stoic. He wonders, distantly, if this is what regret, or loss, or anger is meant to feel like. He wonders, too, if the pair standing before him truly did feel bad for the act --- if James would later feel guilty for such a deed --- but, as could be expected, none of these thoughts are spoken aloud. 

       Show me the body, he says, and he is met with an awkward sigh from both men standing before him. He is led to Steven’s car, to the newly opened trunk; in it lies a trash bag tied loosely shut, and another bag left wide open. In the latter, Jeremy can make out what appears to be entrails, organs ripped from their typical resting places --- silently, he reminds himself to clear his coming plans. It was going to be a long night.

         The sun rises above the city, and Jeremy continues to labor over a bloodied table. He has stayed here all night, cleaning limbs clear of blood, organizing organs and muscles, stitching skin together where applicable. Many wounds would require more resilience, time that he didn’t have available right now; decomposition has already set itself in motion, and he needed to get certain tasks finished before he placed the body over ice. His mind focused on little other than his work all evening, even doing so well into the morning. It isn’t until there is a knock at the door that he snaps out of his precise haze and remembers a factor he hasn’t yet considered.

         You in there?, he hears on the other side of the door, mentally kicking himself for forgetting the existence of his remaining roommate; how was he to explain this loss to his friend? Typical humans experienced emotional attachment, and he knew this all too well --- with little knowledge of sympathy and loss, he decides to do the unthinkable, never once pausing his work as he does so.

         Yeah, he says, currently with both arms reached into the chest cavity of their shared best friend. Ribs stab themselves into the air, flesh ripped apart, exposing empty space where the organs setting on the table across the room are meant to be. He takes a deep breath, reminds himself to be understanding of whatever reaction this sight receives, and continues to speak. Come on in.

[nemesis-nexus]

Winter Solstice/Yule 2019

HAIL THE ANCIENT FAMILY! Great Dragons we call out to you on this Yule night! This year has been quite a ride and there have been many challenges but with you by our side we were able to overcome EVERYTHING that was thrown in our Path! We know no matter what happens that we will always emerge triumphant because while we walk our Paths as INDIVIDUALS, we also walk TOGETHER as a FAMILY!

Tonight is the Winter Solstice, the Longest Night ot the Year, and the beginning of the Yuletide! These last few days leading up to the Solstice have certainly been some of the most trying I have ever had to endure...

I know that a few of us have lost loved ones and for those of you who like myself have experienced a significant loss especially in recent days, know that you are not alone and that my door is always open if you need to talk or vent. It is for everyone generally speaking of course but the focus is on those of us who may be enduring slightly more difficult and arduous time than others this particular year...

For my personal situation I will vent here to venerate my beloved one and give him the respect and send-off he deserves:

HIS NAME IS MARRRRRRREDUUUUUUUUUUK!!!!!!!!!!!!

My BELOVED, TRUSTED, HANDSOME and FIERCE WARRIOR was someone who took in this lifetime the form of a big gray Maine Coon cat that waltzed up our front walkway, into our door, made himself at home and stayed with us for the last 5 years, until such time as Father called him to the Rainbow Bridge and I had to let him go so he could move on, to go be with the Ancient and Eternal Family...

HAIL MARDUK!

YOU WERE THERE WHEN I NEEDED STRENGTH!

HAIL MARDUK!

YOU LISTENED AND NEVER PULLED AWAY!

HAIL MARDUK!

MY ARMS FEEL EMPTY WITHOUT YOU IN THEM!

HAIL MARDUK!

MY HEART ACHES WITHOUT YOU HERE BUT BEATS WILD WITH YOUR SPIRITS FREEDOM!!!

This Solstice please be grateful for any family you have that loves you unconditionally because this is such a rare thing that those of us who hear about it can only assume it's a myth..

This Solstice comes at a time that is very painful for me personally; I lost not only one of my best friends, but one of my most trusted confidants and sources of psychic and emotional strength... My world has been rocked inside out and upside down... I am angrier than I have ever been, not just because of this but this and a whole host of other things, and I don't know what to do about it... but I don't want to make this about that, I just want people to understand that if they are stressed out or depressed or otherwise despondent that they are not alone! Again my door is always open if anyone needs to talk or vent!

This time of year can be very difficult for a lot of people, in fact there is a clinical diagnosis called SAD or Seasonal Depression. It is a kind of mental malaise if you will that descends upon people during the holiday season because either they don't have anyone to celebrate with or those that they do have are so judgemental or otherwise toxic that they are more destructive than constructive or even superficially festive to spend the holidays with so it becomes a psychic struggle of extreme proportions to determine whether or not it's worth it just to sacrifice yet another part of your sanity for the sake of maintaining an image or whether you should simply let go and do your own thing by yourself as you've become accustomed to doing anyway...

We learned through trials and tribulations who our real friends and Family are and as a result we maintained some relationships while we unfortunately had to let others go! We know that weeding the Garden is never easy, especially when what must be uprooted were those who we thought were perennials but through decay turned out to be weeds hell bent on poisoning the whole landscape!

While we may be human we often share traits with with our animal brethren whether we know it or not, after all we are all connected in this great circle or web of existence! For example the Alphas of many prides and packs do not place themselves above the rest of the Family because they know that despite their position their job is to PROTECT the Family not use it as a means of self-glorification!

This is how I run the Temple of the Eternal Dragon, keeping EVERYONE in full view and on an even keel so I know who's being messed with or who may be a sheep in wolf's clothing so to speak.

It is not necessary for me to be in full view of everyone all the time, in other words I don’t need to and have no desire to lord myself over anyone as everyone is perfectly capable of handling themselves. However, if I do need to make my presence known I will and if I do need to make a tough call I will do that as well.

Leading by example is understanding that without the rest of the pack THERE IS NO PACK, that it's NOT about YOU! The reason why many people fail as leaders is because they put themselves first and expect everyone else to just fall in line! Many so-called leaders think that they can show no respect whatsoever to the rest of those who make up their pack and still expect them to jump when they are ordered to do so!

This does not work because when one is only concerned with where THEY are going and what THEY are doing they literally lose sight of the rest of the pack and why they are there to begin with! This leads to a breakdown in the pack and often to the loss of the pack itself!

It is not uncommon if a wolf decides that they have had enough of the shit of the Alpha to challenge them in a fight to the death for control of the pack! This occurs in the human world as well though not always on a physical level because we know that death is NOT just a PHYSICAL thing!

In the human world the worst thing that can happen is when one loses all credibility and is no longer able to be taken seriously. This can happen when people are in positions of leadership but abuse that authority and treat those who supported them as though they were obligated to do so and should be grateful for the chance!

This is NOT acceptable, this is NOT leadership, this IS a DICTATORSHIP! If the Agents of Abraham taught us anything it's that dictators do not last and they will not be remembered favorably by the rest of the world and for good reason! Causing the ire of those who never did a thing to you is one of the most despicable practices one can engage in and eventually it will catch up to them and like the wolf who challenges the Alpha so too shall the dictator fall and fall hard!

True leaders demonstrate the same level of respect to everyone in their pack that they would want for themselves! Doing this shows the rest of the pack that they are valued not only as a pack but as individuals as well and more often than not will result in that leaders election, reelection or exaltation beyond because they know that the one leading the pack has everyone else's best interest at heart not just their own!

Respect like that CANNOT be demanded, it can only be EARNED and none of these so-called leaders will ever understand this because they are too wrapped up in the notion that if they are the one in charge then they can do whatever they want to and no one can or should ever question them!

What they fail to realize is that when one makes everything all about them all the time eventually they're going to find themselves by themselves, or at the end of a 'long pointy stick' - I know my fellow Heathens caught that reference! Nobody wants to be a member of a pack where their leader doesn't give a damn about them to the point where they have no problem announcing it to the world how much they don't give a damn about them then abandoning and ultimately dissolving one pack to defect to another!

No pack can survive that kind of shoddy guidance, because if everyone in the pack behaved like it was everyone for themselves then every member would be a target! Divide and conquer is a popular battle strategy because when one's ego gets incensed to the point where they will disregard everyone else then the rest of the pack is as good as dead! The same as in the human world if you have a platoon of soldiers going into a combat zone and then each soldier trying to be a war hero decides to go off in their own direction and nobody is listening to the platoon commander, that platoon is already dead even if they haven't been killed yet!

This is why RESPECT and TRUST are two EXTREMELY important things, without either one of them there is no pack and without a pack there is no leader! The sooner some people come to terms what this concept the better off they will be and so will the rest of their group!

Battle hardened and all wise Father and Mother, we are grateful for all that you have done for us and all that you have provided us with! Now in this time of transition, when the Dark Moon hangs on high and the Sun is reborn we know that those who have tried their worst will be fully exposed regarding the hostile animus they have presented against your Children and they will receive their just rewards in kind! HAIL THE ANCIENT FAMILY!

On this Blessed Yule let us remember what is most important;

The old Friends who stayed by our sides through everything,

The new Friends who weathered the storms,

Our Family - both Blood and Spiritual - who even when they are scattered the world over are always ever present in our hearts and minds!

This Yule let us take the time to not only appreciate and celebrate the spirit of the holiday but to also acknowledge all those who are unable to be with their families because they are deployed all over the world, willingly putting themselves in harms way so that we can celebrate the holiday without having to be concerned about being attacked by International aggressors!

Let us embrace our loved ones and be grateful for the fact that we have people to be with, there's so many out there that have no one! Let us be grateful for the things that we have understanding that there's so many others that have nothing!

With the rebirth of the Sun signaling the onset of Winter and Spring, the season of rebirth soon to come, we are facing some very dark times, however, like the Phoenix we will rise from the ashes! The clouds may kick up, they may block out the Sun, they may make it rain sometimes harder than others but for all of their noise and drama the Sun still exists and will come out after the storm passes!

This Yule take the time to brighten somebody else's day, don't assume that just because somebody might be in a foul mood or otherwise not overly jubilant that they are just that way because they're cantankerous. The fact is the holidays can be a very depressing time for some and we never know what someone's personal situation is. Sometimes all it takes is a friendly gesture and some kind words to uplift someone else's Spirit!

For all my Family - both Blood and Spiritual - and for all my Friends;

I wish you glad tidings,

An abundance of Prosperity,

Your cup to overflow,

Your plate to never be bare,

Peace of Mind in all that you do,

Strength of Spirit to push on through no matter how difficult times may get,

and above all…

I hope that you realize just how important you are to me; more valuable than any gem, more priceless than all the art in the Louvre, rarer than an honest politician, it is YOU who makes life worth living and I thank you for not only being part of my life, but for not abandoning ship during rough tides!

This Yule take the time to look around and truly appreciate everything and everyone you have because you never know what tomorrow brings and when you won't be able to let them know just what they mean to you!

Be careful never to part company on bad terms keeping in mind that the last thing you say to someone could be THE LAST THING you say to someone!

If you have a Family to take care of, Friends who would do anything for you, a strong Spiritual connection and Faith in yourself, you are the richest person in the world! Money is nice but it can't buy everything: Respect, Honor, Loyalty, Love, Strength, Commitment, Valor, Pride, Courage and Stalwartness are just a few of the things that cannot be purchased no matter how much money you throw down but they are the most valuable things that one can possess!

A Blessed Winter Solstice and Yuletide to you and yours!

"Ancestral Pride

In the bonefire bright and round,

The Flames crackle a joyful sound!

In the Darkness mystery is created,

In the Light wisdom is elated!

Throughout the year we are exposed to much,

Some things are seen while others are touched!

Whether it's senseless violence or vicious betrayal,

We will push on through we will prevail!

There is nothing that we can not overcome,

No matter the task until the job is done!

When the bells have tolled and the lines are drawn,

When the people feel that they can't carry on,

When the sky grows dark and the winds blow cold,

The people will gather the strong and the bold,

When the masses arise fully awakened,

The power will return to the ones from whom it was taken!

When the thunder cracks loud and the lightning blazes across the sky,

The people will stand proud willing to fight or die!

When the spears are rattling in the most serious of ways,

The people will herald the end of Abraham's days!

When Logic, Humanity And Reason are restored to the land,

The enemy will burn to the ground as united we stand!

Through the ashes of the past and the pain that was plenty,

All future Generations will remember

WE ARE ONE EVEN THOUGH WE ARE MANY!”

HPS Meg "Nemesis Nexus" Prentiss"

ZI ANA KANPA! ZI KIA KANPA!

MAY THE DEAD RISE AND SMELL THE INCENSE!

AVÉ IGGIGI!

AVÉ ANUNNA!

AVÉ DRACONIS!

HAIL THE GREAT SERPENT!

HAIL THE ANCIENT FAMILY!

🐍🌎🌬💖🌿🦌🐺🐲💧🔥🐉

HPS Meg "Nemesis Nexus" Prentiss

[piratethornton]

Pirates of the Clawribbean

Chapter 7: U Zornhain

Fandom: Zootopia

[1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10]

Now Nick knew not to underestimate her, he almost always won their duels much to Judy's frustration. He eventually took pity on her and gave her tips where he could, and the crew watching (who always favoured Judy) would shout out advice and encouragement. Even Bucky and Pronk would try to distract the fox to give Judy the upper hand. She improved each day, reaching the point where Nick's easy smile was overcome with panic as he struggled to keep pace with a flurry of swift slashes from her.

Judy couldn't think of another time in her life when she felt so content; she had seen and done so much, yet there was more to come. She looked out to the glistening sea, reflecting the setting sun, and breathed in the sea air. She thought back to the time she first arrived on the Black Paw. She had been frightened and uncertain, and now she couldn't imagine being anywhere else. Even her view on the Captain had changed. Instead of a fearsome, cold-hearted pirate was a charming rogue eager to go on a treasure hunt, who had rushed aboard the Bloody Tusk to save her from Boarbossa and showed such concern for her safety. Someone she could very easily call a good friend.

"Enjoying the view?"

Judy jolted as the very fox she had been thinking about came up and leaned against the ship's edge next to her. She smiled up at him then gazed at the sea once more. "It's so big. I mean, I always knew it was big, but from here it's easy to believe that there's nothing else in the world."

"Yeah, it has that effect," said Nick, shrugging slightly. "...So, missing your fiancé?"

"Huh? Oh." Judy frowned guiltily. She hadn't given much thought to James Buckington for a while. "To be honest, I only agreed to marry him to help my family. If we find Captain's Maul treasure, I may be able to call off the engagement."

Nick smirked. "That bad, huh?"

"No, he's not bad, he's just...not for me." Her gaze moved to the horizon and became sad. "I do miss my family, though. I hope they're not too worried."

"What do they have to be worried about? It's not like you're on a pirate ship on a reckless search for buried treasure and occasionally almost getting killed by evil boars."

Judy couldn't help but laugh at that. "I'll have to be careful about what I say when I see them again." A thought occurred to her. "Is there anyone you miss?"

Nick was silent for a moment. "I only have my mother. She lives in Zootopia. Every now and then I visit her and give her a piece of treasure as a gift. She thinks I'm a high-ranking merchant sailor. Keeps her happy and gives her something to brag about to her friends."

Her curiosity grew a little. "Why did you become a pirate?"

He gazed intensely at the sea, his ears flickering slightly, as if contemplating how much to tell her. "When I was young I learned that foxes weren't supposed to be heroes. They were villains. So I decided to become one. When I was seventeen I managed to join Boarbossa's crew, and I was excited because I thought I was where I belonged. But then I saw what sort of mammal Boarbossa was, and I knew I had to get out. I met Finnick and Honey, and we set out to do piracy our way."

When he mentioned his crewmates, he managed to pull himself out of his melancholy and he leaned towards Judy conspiratorially.

"Don't tell anyone this, but compared to most pirates, we're pretty soft. We can find buried treasure and carry out robberies by stealth alright, but when it comes to 'plundering', we just put on a huge show, make the sailors wet their breeches and leave as soon as we can with their cargo to avoid any bloodshed."

Judy titled her head. "You've never killed anyone?"

"There have been...accidents, and moments of self defence, but we don't really like getting our hands dirty if we can help it."

"So... when you threatened to kill Ben and I-"

He gave a huge smile which had a tint of sheepishness. "Huge bluff."

"Oh, cheese and crackers!" She smacked her head into her palm.

"Yeah. We're pretty much all bark and no bite."

Judy gave a small laugh. "You are simply the worst pirates I've ever come across."

"At least we look good." He winked.

They turned their attention back to the sunset, Judy's eyes fixed upon the horizon. Jack had told her that the moment the sun disappears beneath the sea, a green flash can sometimes be seen, signalling the return of a soul from the Land of the Dead to the Living. The sun gently sank lower and lower until...it was gone, with no hint of green at all. She sighed softly in disappointment.

"Have you ever seen the Green Flash?" she asked Nick.

"Once, I think," he replied. "Out of the corner of my eye. The one time I wasn't looking."

Judy studied him for a moment. "Are you waiting for someone to come back?"

"My dad," he said quietly, staring out to sea. "I... heard rumours that he was taken aboard the Sea Vulture. I don't know how true they are, but I still watch out for it, just in case." He glanced back at Judy, who was reaching out a paw to touch his arm. He forced a laugh. "I get a rabbit on my ship and suddenly I'm all mushy. That's a dangerous gift you've got there, Carrots."

Judy stared at him for a second, then smiled back. "Don't worry. I'm in complete control."

"Shut up!"

"No, you shut up!"

The door opened and was quickly slammed shut again by Honey, looking thoroughly irritated.

" Nick Wilde, why did you let those dumb dumbs join our crew?"

"Honestly? They wouldn't shut up."

She growled in frustration then took a deep breath in an effort to calm herself down. "I've just been checking the map. We're about to reach 'u zornhain'. Care to translate?" she asked Judy.

"It's the song of death or destruction," answered Judy. "I don't know what it refers to, though. I assumed we'd know it when we saw it."

"Nathan's probably the expert thanks to Ben," joked Nick. "Right, Nate?"

He shouted the last part to the polar bear inspecting the rigging, who had fortunately made a complete recovery from his injury. His response to the fox was a snort and a tiny eye roll.

"Wait a minute," said Honey, suddenly looking worried. "It's a full moon tonight."

"Yes..." said Nick slowly, an eyebrow raised.

"Captain!" Bobby called from the crow's nest. "There's movement in the water!"

Everyone gathered on deck ran to the side of the ship Bobby was pointing to. Out in the distance swells in the sea could just be made out in growing darkness. Something was swimming towards them.

"Sirens," said Honey.

"Sirens?!" repeated Judy, sharing Honey and Nick's panic.

"Evil creatures banished from their own kind to the open sea," explained Honey. "They sought protection from bloodthirsty monsters in return for-"

"You can tell the story later, Honey," interrupted Nick. "We need to get everyone below deck. Do you still have those earplugs?"

"I have some," she replied, leading everyone to the door, "but I don't think I have enough for-"

A single, long note rang out from the sea, stopping the crew in their tracks.

"It's started," said Nick gravely.

The first note was followed by two others, and the ship jerked suddenly, causing the crew to stumble. They looked up at the helm to see Flash steering the ship toward the singing.

"Nathan, get Flash away from the wheel!" shouted Nick.

The polar bear was halfway up the stairs when the singing turned from a few simple notes into a sweet, haunting melody. Nathan stopped and gazed out to sea, utterly transfixed.

The door crashed open and Finnick, Ben, Yax, Bucky and Pronk rushed through, looking confused.

"What's going on?" demanded Finnick.

"Cover your ears and go back down," ordered Nick, hands slamming over his own head.

It was too late. A second was all it took for their ears to swivel and their minds to be taken by the sirens. Only Judy, Honey and Ben were unaffected, and Nick was digging his claws into his skull to try to escape the growing music. It was to no avail, and soon his hands dropped and his eyes glazed over.

"Oh no," groaned Honey, snapping her fingers in front of Nick's face in a futile attempt to wake him.

Judy looked about her. Almost every member of the crew were standing stock still, focused on the sirens and their singing. It was certainly on the most beautiful things she had ever heard, but she didn't feel compelled towards it, and she didn't feel any different.

"Why aren't we affected?" she asked.

"They're males," Honey answered, now inspecting Finnick. "One track minds."

"But Ben-"

The cheetah waved a paw. "Once you've heard Gazelle, no voice can compare."

"Gazelle?" asked Honey, confused.

"She's just an opera singer," Judy explained hurriedly.

"Just an opera singer?!" repeated Ben, flabbergasted.

"Did you say you had earplugs?" Judy asked Honey, ignoring Ben.

Honey sighed sadly. "Even if I had enough for them, now they've heard the song they won't work."

The hypnotised crew were now moving slowly to the edge of the ship all with dopey smiles on their faces. Judy ran in front of Nick and tried to push him back, but he simply shoved her out of the way, his eyes never leaving the sea.

"We need to get them below deck and restrain them somehow," said Judy. "Ben, can you take care of Flash?"

"On it," he replied, heading up the stairs.

"Honey." Judy jerked her head towards the rest of the crew. The badger nodded in understanding and went over to Yax. She pulled at his arm but he stood firm.

Judy walked in front of Nick again. "Come on, snap out of it! We want to get Captain Maul's treasure, remember? Maybe you can find something for your mother."

"It's so pretty," he murmured dreamily, his gaze never wavering. It was as if Judy didn't exist.

SPLASH!

"FINN!"

Honey grabbed a rope, tied it around her middle and jumped in after Finnick. Judy seized the other end and looked over the side of the ship to see Honey swimming after the small fox. Surrounding them were several creatures: grey-brown, sleek with flippers and a round, protruding muzzle. Their mouths were wide open as they continued their song and they were gazing longingly at Finnick.

As soon as Honey reached Finnick Judy hauled the rope back up, looping it around the mast for extra leverage. She felt something soar over her head and saw Bobby walking to the edge. She quickly tied off the loop and raced after him, snatching his tail. Though this slowed him slightly, he still steadily moved closer and closer to the water.

"Stop! Stop! You have to stop!" she shouted at him as he dragged her along the deck, completely unfazed by her actions. Then something in the distance caught Judy's eye. Several tall, thin fins were slicing through the waves towards the ship, and Judy's panic grew higher.

"Come on, Bobby!" she pleaded. There was no response. They were almost at the edge now, and she looked around wildly, searching for anything to help. She looked down at the tail in her hands and, because she could think of nothing else, clamped her teeth around it.

There was a yowl of pain and Bobby soared into the air. When he landed he observed his surroundings with an utterly bewildered expression, nursing his tail.

"What's going-?" He stopped halfway and put a paw to his head, groaning slightly. His face slowly turned back to the sweet singing as it began to reclaim him.

Judy wasted no time in grabbing his tail again and biting it. She quickly took her chance and dragged him to the door, halting only when she saw Honey scrambling back on to the ship with Finnick struggling in her arms.

"We have to hurt them!" Judy told her.

Honey scrunched her muzzle in confusion. "Huh?"

"They're distracted by pain!" Judy explained further, just as a panting Ben came back through the door.

"I've put Flash in the galley," he said, trying to get his breath back. "It should be a while before he comes back up."

"Get Bobby and Finnick below, too," ordered Judy. She bit Bobby's tail a third time when he started walking to the sea again.

Honey's eyes widened at Bobby's reaction, and experimentally gave Finnick a short, sharp smack to the head.

"Ow!"

Honey quickly handed the small fox to Ben. "There's sleeping draught in my medical room. Give them a swig and they'll be out like a light."

Ben nodded and took Bobby's arm with his free hand, then descended below deck.

Judy and Honey turned their attention to the rest of the crew, and an evil smile spread over the badger's face when she spotted the antelopes.

"I've waited so long for this!" She ran up behind them, jumped and slammed their two heads together. They slumped down, out cold. "Err...oops."

Only Nick, Nathan and Yax were left, leaning against the bulwark and gazing dreamily at the sirens. Yax was leaning over so much that he was dangling over the edge.

Judy grabbed some more rope. "Get Yax next, and keep an eye on Nick! I'll restrain Nathan!"

With one end tied securely to the mast, Judy looped the rope a few times around Nathan's legs and middle and fastened it off with a strong knot, knowing that even if she and Honey were able to cause him pain, they would not be strong enough to get him below deck. She plucked the rope, and once satisfied went back to Honey.

The yak and fox were now trying to jump over, and Honey was positioned between the two, one arm latched on to Nick's shoulder and the rest of her wrapped around Yax, desperately biting and scratching at his back, with the claws on her foot digging deep into the bulwark. Her attacks had no effect on his thick hide. Her mouth full of hair, she looked at Judy with huge, pleading eyes.

"Try his legs!" Judy told her whilst grabbing Nick and punching his arm.

"Ow!" Nick snapped his attention to his arm and rubbing it.

"Come on!" Judy pulled at his coat with all her might, managing to get him a little way from the edge, until his ear swivelled and he heard the song again. Almost mechanically, he turned back to the sea so Judy climbed on to the bulwark and pushed firmly against his chest.

Fortunately Honey had managed to deliver a successful bite to Yax's leg and was now tying him up. Ben had also returned and looked ready to collapse from a mixture of exhaustion  and stress.

"You two, get Nathan!" yelled Judy, gesturing her head to the polar bear struggling against his bonds. As Honey and Ben started hauling him in, Judy risked a glance behind her. The sirens' expressions were no longer serene, but murderous, and the song emanating from them was almost deafening. The sharks were slowly circling beneath her, creating a small whirlpool, the sight of which cause Judy to gasp and look away. The cloth beneath her fingers squirmed as Nick tried to get around her, but she clung on steadfastly. She made sure her feet had a good grip on the wood, crouched down then sprung back up against Nick, causing him to fall on his back and her to fall on him.

Nick's head smacked against the deck which roused him once again from his stupor, and their gazes met. Judy blinked twice, realising she had never noticed how green Nick's eyes were, but snapped out of her reverie when his look lost focus. She rolled off him, elbowed him in the gut, and lead him to the mast.

The poor fox had to endure several punches and kicks while Judy tied him up next to Yax. When she finished, she joined Honey and Ben in restraining Nathan, which took a considerable amount of effort but they were eventually able to bring him down. Judy ran and fetched the sleeping draught, and once administered the three hypnotised mammals fell into a deep and peaceful sleep, and the other three collapsed against Nathan's large form and sighed collectively in relief.

"What now?" asked Ben.

"They'll be asleep 'til morning, by which time the sirens will have gone," said Honey. "There's no point moving them, even if we were able."

"We'll have to take turns watching, just in case," said Judy.

The sirens' song continued, though there was now a hint of desperation that Judy couldn't help but feel a surge of joy from. Honey brought up the stew Yax had been preparing and they ate under the stars, listening to the mournful music and saying little. Ben fell asleep after his forth helping, and Honey offered to take the first watch. Judy rested against Ben's stomach, promising herself that at the first opportunity, she was going to study the map again for any other potential surprises.

[qqueenofhades]

i know you [i walked with you once upon a dream]: four

Post-1x16 canon divergence. When Lucy Preston, a history professor at Stanford University, is visited by a strange man who tells her that her entire world is a lie, she is drawn into a mystery more dangerous than she could have dreamed, and a hunt for a past she can’t remember. But who, or what, is she going to find – or lose – along the way?

chapter three/AO3

Lucy spends the rest of the afternoon searching up and down for Lorena. She supposes that the thing to do would be to find the local police precinct and file a missing person report, but she can’t help but wonder if that would make it worse. It doesn’t seem at all likely that Lorena was actually intending to just pop out to the shop and has somehow forgotten to come back, but. . . Lucy doesn’t speak Croatian, would already be identified by the barista as the stranger who came in looking for Lorena, is evidently also known as the woman Lorena’s estranged husband wouldn’t shut up about, Lorena assumed she was there to flaunt their new relationship in her face, and Garcia Flynn is clearly, to say the least, a man with a checkered history. Lucy’s not a cop, but she doesn’t need to be to see how bad it looks. Like she distracted Lorena so Flynn could arrive, put a bag over her head, throw her in a car boot, and otherwise make sure the divorce was final, or that Lucy herself killed her, slipped rat poison in her tea while her back was turned and then had to scramble to hide the body, or. . . she doesn’t know. None this is of course what happened, but Lucy has heard of the Amanda Knox case. She’s not about to take chances with being a young American woman accused of murder in a foreign country, where all the evidence already helpfully points in her direction.

Finally, though, she decides that however suspicious it might look to bring this to the police’s attention, it will be several orders of magnitude worse if she doesn’t, and she didn’t come all this way just to shrug and head back to Stanford when a woman is missing. A woman who has a young daughter, and who was, if anything in Flynn’s deranged version of events is true, was at least targeted, if not killed, by a shadowy crime syndicate of some kind that clearly has no problems playing dirty. The obvious difficulty, of course, is that they might then feel perfectly entitled to do the same to Lucy, but before she left Istanbul, she sent an email to Amy explaining that she had just made a big mistake, and done exactly what she shouldn’t have. If for any reason she hasn’t gotten back or made contact in three days, Amy should call the police, the papers, and otherwise make a stink. These bastards (because Lucy at least cannot deny that there is something going on here) are not going to get away with vanishing her without a trace.

It takes her a while, but she finally finds a station and a cop who speaks English, and makes her report. The basic details are simple enough, but they quickly run into trouble with anything more. “How exactly did you know the victim, Mrs. Preston?”

“It’s Ms., just Ms. Preston.” Lucy has spent a lot of time recently correcting people on her title. She isn’t so full of herself as to insist on being addressed as Dr. Preston outside an academic setting, and she does have on an engagement ring, so it’s a logical assumption about her marital status. She almost wonders if she’s made a mistake insisting so swiftly that she’s not, if perhaps she should have thought to take it off. Lorena already thought Flynn up and ran off to randomly marry her one day, and to judge from the look on the cop’s face, at least part of that idea has also occurred to him. “And I – I didn’t really know her. Her husband came to visit me  at Stanford – California, in the States, Stanford University, I’m a professor there. You can call and check if you want. Anyway, he – he wasn’t making much sense. I thought he might not be well. He mentioned Lorena’s name, so I tracked her down on Facebook and I flew, uh, I flew here.”

The cop raises an eyebrow. “That is quite a favor to do for a stranger, Mrs. Preston.”

“It’s – ” Lucy bites her tongue. The more she points that out, the more he’s going to think she’s hiding something, more than he clearly already does. This of course is the truth, but she can hear how utterly flimsy it sounds. “It was. . . it was an unusual encounter.”

The cop flips to a new page in his notepad. “Unusual how? Can you give me the details of what this man Flynn said or did to you?”

Lucy watches his face, to see if that name is any more familiar to him than he’s letting on, but she can’t tell. And there is, of course, no way to condense anything of what happened on an otherwise unremarkable Monday morning into something that won’t spawn a hundred more questions with progressively more impossible answers. “He. . . wanted my help. With a research project he was doing. He had a few dates in history, places where he had dug up some interesting stuff and wanted me to take a look.”

“And you don’t know why he chose you to approach, of all the history professors in America.”

“No.”

“Which dates were these?”

“1754, colonial America, something to do with the French-Indian War.” Where that comes from, Lucy doesn’t know. It startles her. “And Houston 1969, the Apollo 11 moon landing, and – and Washington 1972. The Watergate scandal.”

“Ah,” the cop says. “So he’s a conspiracy theorist, yes? To prove the moon landing did not happen, anti-government paranoia, this kind of thing?”

“I. . . I don’t know. It was a short meeting. I didn’t think I’d be able to help him.”

“But it left enough of an impression on you that you decided to go find his wife?”

Lucy doesn’t have any idea how to answer that. Not when this makes no sense even to her. “I wanted to help them,” she repeats, steadily as she can. If she talks about secret agents and dead drops and strange phone calls and everything else, she is definitely in for an unpleasantly close-range inspection of Croatia’s formerly-Soviet justice system, which isn’t likely to be a good time. “Their daughter, is she all right? She must be home from school or wherever by now. I don’t want her sitting alone, wondering where her mother is.”

“The girl is staying with a neighbor. They phoned to report Mrs. Flynn missing shortly before you arrived.” The cop considers her again. “Are you familiar with the daughter?”

“No, I’ve never met her.” Lucy twists her fingers in her lap. For the oddest and most inexplicable moment, she had some kind of – flashback, hallucination, memory, what? Reading a file. Something about Flynn’s family. Something related to something he did in 1969 – but how does that even make sense? He’s probably in his mid-forties if she had to guess, he would either not yet be born in 1969, or only a very small child. Even more bewildering and alarming is Lucy’s momentary conviction that she was there too. In 1969, when she definitely wasn’t born. The moon landing. She just mentioned that, not knowing why. Jesus, what is happening to her?

It must show on her face somehow, and this, obviously, is not the thing to convince the cop of her status as a reliable, sane, well-balanced, and definitely not-murdery individual, and he briefly looks as if he’s thinking about keeping her for more. But it seems he can’t do that without formally arraigning her or filing a charge of some kind, and there is nothing concrete to do so with. “Very well, Mrs. Preston. While this is going on, it is a good idea that you do not try to leave Croatia. We will have to find you if we have more questions.”

“I – I have a job, I need to be back by Monday – ”

The cop gives her a look that clearly says that if she didn’t want to fuck up her life, maybe she shouldn’t have jaunted off here and whacked the wife of the man she may or may not be illicitly involved with. But after Lucy signs an affidavit (all the alarm bells going off in her head about signing documents you don’t understand without a lawyer present, but not seeing any other way she’s going to be allowed to leave tonight) she is finally released, not feeling at all better about that decision than she did at the start. She could call Noah, especially if she might be about to need bail money, see what the dollar-to-euro exchange rate is going at these days, but. . . as much as she tries to wrestle away her inexplicable reluctance to do it, she can’t. She still can’t remember when exactly they got together, or how. These gaps and flashes in her memory, as if someone has taken a pair of scissors, cut out bits, and badly stitched in others, are terrifying.

Pulling up her hood against the chilly evening wind off the water, Lucy starts to walk. She has no idea where exactly she is going. There has to be a cheap and reasonably non-skeevy guesthouse around here somewhere, and considering her current circumstances, she really does not want to be alone on the streets after dark – especially as a young woman in a foreign country where she doesn’t speak the language. It’s hard to feel more vulnerable, and she reaches into her purse in search of the pepper spray she usually keeps in there, in case she needs it. Then she remembers, of course, that she had to throw it away going through security at SFO, and groans out loud. Bang-up job, TSA. Really keeping America and its citizens safe.

She should at least buy a cheap phone of some sort. Is anywhere still open? She doesn’t want to get socked with international roaming charges every time she turns on her own, even just to use the wifi, and besides, it would be detrimental to her aims of avoiding contact with her worried family. This is so unlike Lucy, the girl who always asked permission to go anywhere in high school and actually worried about breaking her curfew, that she has to wonder if she has somehow had a personality transplant. All these flitting, ghostlike half-memories, the inability to remember the most intimate details of her life or Noah’s. . . like she’s changed bodies with someone, like another version of herself. Or in other words, exactly what it sounded like Flynn was talking about, and she thought he was crazy, the first time they met. And according to him, the last. Of course he’s disappeared, right when she needs to actually talk to him, right when Lorena has too, when –

Just then, headlights fall over the street, a car rattles down the cobblestones, and slows next to Lucy. The window hums down. “Dr. Preston?”

It’s a woman’s voice, American. Yes, because this has not happened nearly enough in recent days, a random stranger wants to talk to her. At least this one has gotten the title right. In the low glow of the streetlight, Lucy can see that she’s older, silver-streaked black hair tidily cut to her shoulders, dark eyes, and a commanding manner. “Dr. Preston,” she says again. “Is that you?”

Lucy debates making a run for it, not that she can outstrip a car on foot, and this is not a wise thing to do when she is already the prime suspect in a missing-person case. But she somehow trusts this newcomer more than she did the other ones, and she isn’t exactly overflowing on options to start with. After a moment, she turns. “Yes?” she says warily.

“Agent Denise Christopher.” The woman holds out a hand. “I’m with Homeland Security. You can get into the car, Lucy, it’s all right. You’ve had an eventful few days, haven’t you?”

Lucy balks. “Have you been following me?”

“We had someone keep an eye on you when you left San Francisco, yes. Why don’t you get in, and we’ll talk.”

Never get into a car with someone you don’t know, the fourth-grade “Stranger Danger” VHS tape drones unhelpfully in Lucy’s head. But Agent Christopher doesn’t look like a hitman (or rather, hitwoman) – not that that means anything, as she probably wouldn’t. And Lucy is tired, sore, shaken, very confused, and very much in need of an answer or five.

She gets into the car.

Denise – Agent Christopher, why did she seem familiar, first-name, for a moment? – smiles and swings behind the wheel, evidently pleased that Lucy decided not to make this difficult. Lucy glances into the back seat, but there doesn’t appear to be anyone else there, just them. Agent Christopher shifts into gear, and they roll down the street to the main ring road, then out onto the motorway. They are clearly going somewhere, and Lucy bites back the inane impulse to object that she isn’t supposed to leave Croatia. She still somehow fears getting into more trouble, though that event horizon seems to have been passed a while ago, and all of this is so utterly, unrelentingly bizarre that she has finally given up fighting it, is just going to have to throw up her hands and go with it. Alice woke up eventually, and discovered that Wonderland was just a dream. Lucy only hopes she’ll get to do the same.

At last, when they have been driving for almost forty minutes and have left Dubrovnik well behind, Agent Christopher speaks. “Do you know Garcia Flynn?”

Lucy had a hunch that question might be coming, and she still has no idea how to answer it. She mulls her words carefully. Christopher wouldn’t be asking that unless she already knew that Lucy met and spoke to him, and denying it outright is clearly not going to work. At last she says neutrally, “He seems to think I did.”

Christopher glances at her swiftly sidelong. It’s difficult to say if this was the answer she expected or not. “Do you want to confirm that you saw him in the morning of Monday, February 20? On the Stanford University campus, I believe?”

“I. . .” Lucy is getting tired of law enforcement officers thinking she’s in cahoots with this nutjob. “Fine. Yes. He came to visit me. We spoke briefly. Then he left.”

“Did you know that Garcia Flynn is wanted by the United States government, on suspicion of unprecedented terrorist activities and connections?”

That catches Lucy like a bag of rocks across the midsection. She should have guessed, and indeed she had more than an inkling that something like this was the case, but maybe she really has had an unfathomably lucky escape. “Unprecedented?”

“Yes. This isn’t just a matter of blowing up a building or driving a truck through a crowd or gunning down some innocent people on a beach or anything like that. This man is a danger to our very existence.”

“What – what is he supposed to have done?”

“That,” says Agent Christopher, “is the difficult part.”

“I work at Stanford. I’m pretty sure I can handle difficult.”

Again, that oblique sidelong glance. “So you don’t have any idea?”

“Would I be asking if I did?” Lucy’s frustration shows in her voice. She can’t help it.

“I suppose not.” Christopher overtakes a dawdler in the fast lane. “It’s complicated, because strictly speaking, we can’t prove any of it. But in the short version, he was responsible for destroying a unique, priceless, and irreplaceable machine made by a company called Mason Industries, in – you’ve heard of them?”

“I.” Lucy swallows. “I only saw the newspaper article. He – Flynn – asked me if I know someone named Rufus Carlin. I don’t.”

One of Christopher’s dark brows arches. “Rufus Carlin, in fact, shared some very disturbing data with Connor Mason, the CEO and founder of the company, and the inventor of the machine that Flynn destroyed. As a result, this data made its way to my colleagues and myself in Homeland Security, and believe me when I say that the apprehension of Garcia Flynn is now the highest-priority case on the entire federal counter-terrorism docket. If you have any idea or lead on his whereabouts, now would be the time to share it.”

“I don’t,” Lucy insists, with something close to panic. “I don’t know where he is.”

Christopher evaluates her a moment more, finally decides that she’s telling the truth. Then she says, “Well, as it happens, we might. It seems he has an older half-brother named Gabriel Thompkins –which is strange, we went through his files several times and there was never any mention of him before. It’s like he just appeared out of thin air. At any rate, he lives in Paris. Given Flynn’s recent pattern of trying to make contact with a list of personal or family targets, we think he might next attempt to check in on Gabriel. But this man is trained and dangerous, backed into a corner, and is certainly expecting to be tailed, as well as prepared for a fight. We need an incentive for him to show himself, draw him out of cover, and put him off his guard.”

“And?” Lucy doesn’t like where this is going. “What does this have to do with me?”

“Come now, Lucy.” Agent Christopher exits the motorway onto a country road, takes a few turns. It’s only as they pass through a jungle of barbed wire onto a dark airstrip, with a private jet sitting on the tarmac, that Lucy realizes they must be at some kind of hidden black site, and that that, right there, is their ride. “Do you really think he’s going to miss the opportunity to talk to you?”

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

Paris, France – City of Lights, home of poets and artists, legendary romantic destination, etc. etc. – is a fucking shithole.

To be fair, Garcia Flynn’s current low opinion of the place might directly and inversely correlate to his level of anxiety about why he’s here at all, and the unpleasant encounter he just had with so-called French customer service (he hates to stereotype, especially as someone from Eastern Europe who gets plenty of that himself, but sometimes it just fits). He has been trying for the last forty-five minutes to see if his brother is here or not, not even sure if he wants to find him, existing in a sort of terrified exhilaration and mind racing too fast to wrap around the consequences. This, he supposes, is what he gets for shooting scientists, instead of asking their advice on what destroying the Mothership might do to reality. But he remembers Anthony, at one point, describing the space-time continuum as similar to a piece of chewed gum. Pull on it from either end, and it first starts to split in the middle. That’s where reality is starting to tear back into what already happened, the changes that Flynn and the trio made, despite the attempt to reset it to the original template by saving his family. He’s been keeping an eye on history, and 1969 – that was about the middle of the expeditions that they went on, yes. That’s about where the hasty patch job would start to pull out its stitches. The official account of the moon landing has suddenly altered, explaining how there was a mysterious attack on NASA’s computers and Katherine Johnson helped save the day. And that means the other change Flynn made back then, saving his half-brother’s life, might have returned into history as well.

Flynn can’t help but think of the fact that if the rips are going to start cascading back into existence, like a chain of knocked-over dominoes, that means everyone who is alive and present right now who shouldn’t be – Lorena, Iris, Anthony, Lucy’s sister Amy, just to name a few – is going to start disappearing, depending on when the correction hits. If his half-brother is back, that means it’s happening. That means this time, there is no Mothership to fix it, and trying again might just make the temporal destabilization even worse, riddle it with holes and contradictions until the entire thing collapses, like a sand castle gutted by the waves. That means that he might lose his family again, right before his eyes, with absolutely no way to stop it.

Flynn swears, banging his fist against the wall of the telephone booth, as a few passersby give him a funny look and walk faster. It’s already bad enough that he has pissed off Rittenhouse to a degree unseen in the organization’s sordid history, that they’ve warned him to stay away from his family and Lucy and everyone else, and yet he needs to do something, he needs to warn them. He doesn’t dare go back to Dubrovnik, as the place is probably saturated with agents already, happy to shoot Lorena and Iris through a long-range sniper rifle if he so much as shows his face, but he thinks madly that if he could just kill those ones, the ones threatening them now, then they’d be safe, they’d be –

For another, oh, five minutes. Until Rittenhouse sends more. Sends their entire fucking private army.

Is he planning to shoot those too, and think there will be no retribution?

It never stops.

It never stops.

Fingers shaking, he dials the directory again, waiting. It takes a while, but this time he finally gets an address for a Gabriel Thompkins. It’s in a tony, upscale part of the city, second arrondissement, not far from the Louvre. He slams down the phone and pulls his jacket straight, checking that it covers his sidearm – he is really not in the mood to be dragged into the gendarmerie just now – and starts to move fast. What he’s going to say, if anything, he has no idea. I’m your half-brother, who technically you never met, because you died before I was born? Is it possible this is like a badly tuned radio, and Gabriel will flicker out of existence again before he gets there, reality caught between two competing parameters, battling to decide which one is going to take precedence? Jesus. What has he done.

Flynn makes it across the city in record time, turning into the narrow street, shoving past the inevitable brigade of Vespas, delivery vans, and sidewalk café chairs, up to the flat. He rings the bell, looks behind him shiftily, and then hammers on the door. Someone shouts something that sounds unflattering from the second-floor balcony (Flynn’s French isn’t quite as good as his Spanish, but more than sufficient in this case). “Come on,” he growls under his breath. “Don’t you need to go get your single espresso and smoke your cigarette and read Le Monde?”

His interesting ideas about what constitutes a typical Parisian’s life aside, this does in fact get a response. There are footsteps in the hall behind, and the door opens. “Oui? Puis-je vous aider?”

Flynn opens his mouth, then shuts it, because he’s momentarily spellbound. It’s looking at himself, about ten years older. Dark hair considerably shot through with silver, square glasses, smile lines, sweater and corduroys. Gabriel Thompkins looks like a retired college professor or a successful novelist, the kind of man who has spent his life creating things, not tearing them down. There is a wedding ring on his finger. He has a family. A good life. Flynn remembers jabbing a shot of epinephrine into a small boy’s arm, a muggy July day in 1969, looking into his younger mother’s face, telling her that he only ever remembered her being sad. That he wanted to fix it. It was good to see you again. He tries to answer, but he can’t. It sticks raw.

“Can I help you?” Thompkins repeats, this time in English, as if Flynn might not have understood the first time. His brow creases, as it’s not every day a shifty-eyed stranger who looks very much like you turns up in a fluster on your doorstep. “You look – sir, have we. . . have we met?”

“A long time ago,” Flynn says by reflex. He still feels punched. “I – I can’t really explain, I’m sorry. I just – I probably should not have come.” He wants to ask, wants to know what it was like to grow up with their mother, happy, but doesn’t know if Gabriel’s memory includes him or not. He doesn’t know how this works. Lorena and Iris only remembered three years of his absence. “I – I’m sorry for bothering you. If someone comes by, you – I was not here.”

With that, leaving Thompkins utterly baffled, Flynn whirls on his heel and retreats, thinking far too late that he’s likewise pointed out someone else for Rittenhouse to target, that if a team of commandos arrive tonight to drag Thompkins out of his tidy flat and shoot him in the head, there will be nobody to point the finger at but himself. He blunders down the Rue Bachaumont in complete distraction, half-seriously thinking of jumping into the Seine to put an end to this unqualified disaster, this burning dumpster fire, that is his life. They ordered him to disappear, and perhaps that is the only helpful thing left for him to do. Will that buy his family’s safety, once his corpse washes up in some river grate weeks from now and they have to identify him by his dental records? From Rittenhouse, perhaps. But if the timeline keeps buckling in under the weight of its contradictions, if people disappear and reappear, if –

Flynn turns the corner, and walks straight into Lucy Preston.

Shock is not a sufficient word for either of their reactions. They collide, start into the usual apologies for knocking heads with a stranger, then stagger backward, get a good look at each other, and blanch. Neither of them appear capable of thought or movement or speech. Then Flynn grabs her by both wrists, jerks her bodily off the sidewalk, swings her around under the cover of a low market awning, and hisses, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Belatedly, it occurs to him that if he wants to convince her of his noble intentions, this is a piss-poor way to start, and it would not be best for someone to see it and get the wrong impression (and, he supposes grimly, this isn’t the first time he’s kidnapped her). She pulls at his hands, trying to loosen his grip, and he lets her down. The two of them are still standing close together in the small space, and he feels an odd lurch in his stomach as their eyes lock. She takes a moment to catch her breath; if she was expecting to run into him here, clearly it was not nearly that dramatically. Then she says, “We need to talk.”

“Do we?” Flynn glances edgily over his shoulder again.

“Yes.” He has to give her credit, she doesn’t back down or flinch, staring him in the eye, which sometimes not even grown men have been able to manage. “And we don’t have much time. Is it true? Are you – ” She hesitates, but only briefly. “Are you a terrorist?”

That’s quite the icebreaker to go for, Flynn thinks. Though he does, by any objective metric, deserve it. He knows she doesn’t remember, but he has a brief moment of useless longing for when that meant she would touch his hand gently and tell him she was sorry for his loss, not revert to seeing him as the hulking monster determined to wreak havoc on her nice ordinary normal world. “Who have you been talking to, Lucy?”

“People.” She looks at him defiantly. “And they’re here. In Paris. Looking for you. They’re using me as bait to try to draw you out. They’ll be here soon.”

“Wh – ” Flynn’s hand goes by reflex to his gun. He grabs Lucy by the wrist again and pulls her backward into the crammed alley, her ending up almost against his chest. “Who’s looking for me?” he hisses at her. “Who?”

“Homeland Security.” She pushes herself off him and glares. “You know, I’m more than slightly tempted to let them catch you.”

“Homeland Security?” Flynn swears. “You mean Rittenhouse? They’ve infiltrated every level of that department, it’s a nightmare, it’s – ”

“What?” Lucy is exasperated. “Rittenhouse?”

“Yes, Lucy! Rittenhouse!” He almost yells it at her, the same conceit observed by someone trying to make someone else understand, as if saying it louder and louder will make a difference. Absolutely nothing about this new timeline is the way he wanted it to be, and he hates himself for almost wishing that he hadn’t done it. He can’t regret that Lorena and Iris are alive again, but otherwise, it is the very epitome of being careful what you wish for. “Do we have to go through this again? You didn’t believe me when I told you that they existed last time either!”

Lucy stares at him, lips white, and he belatedly thinks that if her interest in hearing him out, and buying them a little time, is the only thing stopping Homeland Security from moving in to nab him on the spot, it would possibly behoove him to have more tact about this than a Panzer brigade. “Rittenhouse,” he repeats, more levelly. “Ask your friends about that.”

“They’re not my friends.” Lucy is scurrying to keep up with him as he barges down the alley, hoping that this does not come to a shootout in the middle of a nice Paris neighborhood – the city has too much unfortunate recent experience with that kind of thing – but also not planning to be taken quietly. He doesn’t know why. Ten minutes ago he was prepared to drown himself in the Seine and put an end to it, but now he’s seen her again, she’s here, she doesn’t know the danger she’s in, what happened to all of them and might still, and somehow, something in him isn’t quite ready to give up the fight after all. He pushes open an unlocked back door, pulling her in after him. They appear to be in the stock room of a patisserie, which smells delicious if nothing else, and he briefly wonders that if he’s already a wanted criminal, if stealing a brioche or a pain du chocolat is really going to make that much of a difference. He reaches behind her ear, fingers brushing her hair, and finds the small crumple of a smart-foil GPS tracker, peeling it off her.

Lucy stares at him, clearly wanting to ask how he knew that was there. “How did you get to France?” she demands instead. “They have a warrant on you, they – ”

“I used to work for the NSA, do you really think I don’t know how to get out of a country with the authorities looking for me?” Flynn hisses, peering through the crates. Seems clear, but he hopes the baker does not come in unexpectedly; his trigger finger is a little itchy right now. He leads the way around, Lucy following him almost despite herself, drawn into his orbit like a star devoured by a black hole. “I don’t suppose you did anything useful, and read that file I gave you?”

“I’ve been a little busy!” Lucy remembers to keep her voice down, but that is one of the more scathing whispers Flynn has ever heard. “Your wife’s missing!”

That takes him like a skillet in the back of the head. “She – she what?”

“I went. To Dubrovnik.” Lucy’s eyes meet his, half guiltily, half defiantly. “I met your wife. She told me what you think happened. And then she. . . she vanished. I don’t know how or why.”

Garcia Flynn knows several languages. Quite a few, in fact. English, Croatian, Russian, Spanish, German, and some French and Italian. But there are not enough curses in all of them to adequately convey what flashes through his head just then. He wants to shake her, to demand what on earth made her do that, even as he is horribly aware that all of this, every bit of it, is his fault. He was the one who insisted on seeing her one last time, introducing that element of chaos and danger into what otherwise would have been her boring life with her boring fiancé and boring problems. And nor can he know if Lorena has been taken in strategically by Rittenhouse, to hold as hostage against him – which would be bad enough, but still allow for the possibility of rescuing her – or if she’s vanished more permanently, a casualty of the ripping space-time, the world remembering that she is supposed to be dead and adjusting matters accordingly. He presses a hand against the wall, struggling to control himself. He should not be surprised that by trying to save everyone, he’s losing them dramatically and spectacularly instead. And more. And worse. This is going to gain momentum. It’s not going to stop.

Just then, there’s a thump in the next room, and Flynn remembers that they’re still standing here like idiots, right next to Lucy’s tracker – even if he’s taken it off her, that does him no good unless they get away from it. He grabs her, practically tucking her under his arm like someone stealing a valuable vase from an antique bazaar, and pulls her back out the door into the alley. Just as it bursts open after them, and someone yells, “Come out with your hands up!”

Flynn responds to that by shooting, which is how Flynn tends to respond to most things in general. He doesn’t think he’s hit them, unfortunately, as there is the sound of shattering glass but no yells or cries of pain, and Lucy stares at him with her mouth open. He thinks blackly that she’s getting her answer as to whether or not he’s a terrorist, all right. Then he grabs her again, pushing her up the alley in front of him, and wheels to fire one more time from around the corner. Then he jumps onto the nearest of the ubiquitous Vespas, pulls Lucy down in front of him, and reaches around her to hotwire it, gunning it to life within thirty seconds (he might admire the efficiency, if there was time to do so). Kicks off, and races away down the street at top speed.

Lucy is too involved in clinging on for dear life to scream at him, though Flynn is sure she will get to that part soon enough. He more or less knows Paris, though it’s not the city he spent the most time in, and he also has a few tricks up his sleeve. He knows they won’t risk shooting at a moving target in the middle of boulevards and plazas packed with tourists and civilians (or hopes so, at least) and they’ll have to catch him first if they intend to take him down.

He does not intend to let them. He dodges and weaves and throttles still harder, earning more than a few French obscenities and succinct gestures thrown in his direction, but he doesn’t care. Half the other Vespas are driving at the same pace, anyway, and without the tracker, it will be difficult for their pursuers to get a bead on theirs particularly in a city packed with the stupid things. Lucy is probably sorely regretting the moment she ever thought this was a good idea, but likewise, Flynn will have to worry about that later. He wants to tell her that if she trusted him to take her home through time, this should be nothing, but – for the third time in his life – this Lucy Preston is not the Lucy he has known. You’d think he’d get used to it.

He isn’t used to it.

They zip and dart and zigzag across Paris like a demented bumblebee for God only knows how long. At last, when they have gotten far enough away that the sirens have faded, all seems more or less tranquil, and nobody appears to be looking at them, Flynn lets the stolen scooter coast to a halt in a side alley. Lucy is gasping, clinging to the handlebars, and there is an excruciatingly tense moment as they stare at each other. The silence becomes overwhelming. Then at last, eyes flat, lips set, Lucy wipes her brow with her forearm and throws her shoulders back.

“Right,” she says quietly, furiously. “Talk.”

[quirkyqirl]

I was over excited about this trip but I am slowly getting a mild case of the blues. Let’s begin with how the day began, I woke up at 7 am showered and made sure I had everything packed for this trip. I was maybe overzealous with the planning but everything went as planned as far as the itinerary. There was this guy on the shuttle to the airport who kind of rubbed me the wrong way. He skipped six empty seats to sit by me of all people.

My bag was overloaded so instead of putting in the bag compartment I sat it next to me. The shuttle was anyways so I figured no major issue. This guy decides to sit next to me for whatever reason and just took the notion to move my bag out the way. So, I exchanged words with him with no response back from him. I later came to the assumption that he didn’t speak English.

I was feeling maybe a bit petty so I stared him down until I believe he got uncomfortable and started fidgeting and playing with his phone. To my dismay, I learned he spoke English very well so he understood exactly what I had said.   My flight was delayed and a full flight at that, but somehow I managed to get a second-row seat. The lady next to me whispers to her husband not many people traveling along on this flight. Boy, don’t remind me! I get to Jose Marti Airport and waited through another line once I passed through customs.

They opened another line and people almost knocked me down to rush and get to it. We get through their checkpoint and  had to wait for our checked bags. I waited almost 30 minutes panicking only to find out my bag was on the carousel behind me. I rushed to use the bathroom that has no seats and door doesn’t lock but hey my bladder was full. Then I rushed over to the currency exchange in another building. I previously already exchanged US currency for Canadian currency.

I was hailed by anxious cab drivers  on my way to the  exchange area once I got over there it was another line I waited in. I had exchanged US dollars early this morning to Canadian currency only to get literally the same amount back. So, for 245 Canadian dollars, I got a whopping 180 cuc back.  I just sucked it up and left the building only to see that one cab driver that had been following me waiting for me. I was a tad creeped out but I said to myself what the hell.

He took me to my destination and didn’t rip me off either. I begin to climb the stairs when a rather decent looking guy comes rushing down saying my name. I said yes that’s me he grabbed my heavy bag and we went up more stairs. I was little confused because the Airbnb host picture I had seen was not him. But I learned he was the host son. When I got to the apartment he begins questioning me how I got there.

I said I arrived by cab and he points at his dad and said he sent a cab for you. Of course, I forgot I asked for a cab to be sent and the dad was not to please by his facial expression. He called the driver and I guess explained the situation. He didn’t speak English and didn’t have many manners either from first impressions. The whole time while his son translated he never acknowledged me.

The son gave me some half-assed directions to get a Wi-Fi card and how to get to a grocery store. Showed me how to use the keys and in my opinion, rushed off. When I did finally decide to go for a little adventure I found I was locked in the apartment from the outside. I stood there like a deer in headlights fumbling with the keys. The only thing that saved me was a teenage boy appeared at the next apartment doing something I have yet to figure out what exactly.

I asked for help and he tried to in Spanish, but something is dawn on me to hand him the keys to unlock from the outside. It worked to my surprise and his as well. For an hour I walked around got lost and still didn’t find the Wi-Fi card place. I got quite a few stares and some catcalls from men. At this point, I am rather down my last trip to Cuba last year I felt was better.

I stayed in Cojimar and now I am in La Playa. I want to remain positive but I am feeling a tad lonely. No real restaurants or anything I have yet to discover. But tonight, is a full moon maybe I will be surprised. I am going to try to find this Wi-Fi card place again now.

Well, I eventually found the Wi-Fi place and purchase a card for 3 Cuban dollars for 1hr. The place is like a park and the young male teenagers sell them. Once I left I went to a restaurant ordered a daiquiri and their version of cordon bleu chicken with beans and rice accompanied with a salad. When I came back to the apartment it took about 10 minutes to get through the first gate because of the lock. Once I passed that obstacle the apartment door wouldn’t open at all.

I started panicking and kept trying, for about three hours I was outside and it was chilly. My internet wasn’t working at all but I thought it wasn’t smart to go to the park now at night. I called my ex-boyfriend in the states to get help. He tried to find my host on his Airbnb app but could not. So, I went on my app and something told me to hit the call host link and it worked.

He picked right up but gave the phone to his daughter who spoke English. He was there in 10 minutes, I handed him the keys he got through the first gate then went to the apartment gate. The same problems occurred but somehow he fixed it for the moment at least. He called his daughter to tell me that it had never happened before and basically, he is sorry. Well after a night of some rest am ready for the next adventure.

I went out to find some sort of breakfast and followed the Airbnb host son directions to find the markets. Funny thing is I am always getting lost but I managed to find the markets easily. I settle for some sort of pig in the blanket type of meal with a small cup of Pina colada. I only ate the bread because the meat was not to be trusted by the look of it. Once I finished I walked back and was wooed by a guy name Selz I believe.

From what I understood he wants to marry me and he is a competitive dancer. His house has a palm tree in front of it. We had a rather odd conversation with two different languages. He bought me some churros which were just ok in taste. This little lady came out of nowhere begging for pesos.

Selz and the churros guy told her basically to stop begging from what I understand by their actions. Both saying she is American leave her be from what I am learning Cubans are proud people. I finally found an escape from Selz and just told him I will come back when its dark. I am not opposed to a fling but he just was not my cup of tea. So now I am back at the apartment watching some English movie in front of an old-school fan. I wonder what’s next for me I am curious.

So, after watching Zorro which was my Papi favorite movie I took a long nap. I went out at 5 pm to go get a Wi-Fi card. Just as I  am making it down the block I hear somebody screaming MIAMI!!!. Turns out it was Selz with his friend drinking and walking, Cuba is always alive I am learning. His friend greets me and Selz continue to tell him how he wants to marry me.

The friend’s house was on the way to the Wi-Fi place, he took a picture of me and Selz together afterward I use the one hour to contact my friends and update social media, keep up with what’s going on in my neck of the woods. Selz was infatuated with Instagram and looking at all my friend’s crazy pictures and some of my minds. He explained to me that he was leaving Monday to go work on a project in Valdero. Tonight, we are meeting up at 8 pm to go see old Havana. I was mesmerized with old Havana last year and can’t wait to see it again.

Well I met up with him and we walked around and he showed me  his home. Then he took me to this house that prepared meals for sale. That was the best meal I’ve tasted in a while which consisted of pork chops ,beans and rice with tomatoes and sweet potatoes. We then went to see if his friend was home who works at a music place. He wasn’t there and my bladder was about to burst.

He took me to his brother house to use his restroom. After seeing it I wasn’t sure if I wanted to use it there was no door or running water. But when a girl must go she must go! Well we finally caught one bus to get to Havana I assumed but he was still looking for his friend and we went to his job. He was stuck on taking me to hear the music.

We finally went to catch another bus and when it came everybody rushed to get on. I was so anxious I didn’t notice my foot had slipped into a pothole and twisted. He caught me as I lost my footing and said “Dale”. I was in so much pain the bus was packed so I had to stand the whole ride. I was located behind the back door so when it open either my face kept getting hit or my foot.

I had already started to regret even going out. We got to the location and he had to help me get down. He kept asking was I in pain a lot and I started to get a little angry. He had to stop for everything like a hotdog and drinks. I was in pain and it was ridiculous that he still was full of energy wanting to go dance.

We kept walking around aimlessly and I finally said get a cab I want to leave. For three hours cabs passed us by not going to La Playa. So, we walked further down to where the buses came we missed two because I couldn’t run and they were over packed. Kids were hanging from the doors because they didn’t want to wait for another ride. Kids were everywhere drinking and gyrating, breaking the glass and running behind each other.

It was alive but I couldn’t get over the pain my foot was in. Finally, a bus going to La Playa came and thank goodness it was not over packed. People were still trying to push people out the way to get on the bus. Selz kept saying this is Cuba this is Cuba meaning this is how it is. I was dozing off on the bus amidst all the noise and yelling that the kids were making.

Finally, it stopped and I wanted to cry when I saw the stone say we were only on Calle 60 and I needed to make it to Calle 66 and 13. So more walking on my foot and Selz kept wanting to stop at stores to buy fresco and I wanted to just go home. So, he walked me to my apartment slowly but surely and watched me go up. I never hated stairs so much and of course, I started experiencing issues with the first lock but finally, it opened. I took my sneakers off and my foot was so swollen I wasn’t sure if it was broken or sprained. I just got immediately in bed thinking that rest would heal my pain.

When I woke up I was proven wrong, the swelling was huge and I barely could walk. So, I made myself shower and the hot water made it somewhat better in feeling and I forced myself to stand up for some time. I am not sure how my last day in La Playa will be I still need to get some Wi-Fi and food and make sure I have a cab to the airport tomorrow. How will I manage to do that with and swollen foot?

Well, the Airbnb host son came by while I was watching old movies on the flat screen in my apartment. He asked how my stay had been and I told him I found everything well, but I needed a cab to get to the airport tomorrow. He suggested I walk to the hotel and I explained I had sprained my ankle. So, he said he would come by later to see what can be done. He did return around 5 pm and said his dad will come for the key in the morning and they arrange a cab for me.

That was finally done but I really wanted to speak with my friends and get some food. I forced myself down the stairs and began the short but long walk since my new condition. I felt so different the stares and dragging my foot along the walk. But eventually, I got to the park where they sold the Wi-Fi cards at. I use my whole hour and my way up to the street to the first restaurant I had dined at.

I ordered food and a mojito and sat there contemplating my trip. I ventured back to the apartment and felt super groggy. I made it in the apartment and once again I struggled with the first gate. When eventually one of the tenants came out to help me and explained how the lock has been causing problems. I was like finally from the whole trip someone hears me struggling with this darn gate.

Once inside I packed and passed out after setting my alarm. I woke up before my alarm and listened to the sounds of Cuba. Chickens and whistles and the start of the morning in the neighborhood. I showered and tried to play with my foot to get it working I guess you can say. Shortly after there was a slight knock on the door.

It was Diego the Airbnb host to check the place out and wait for the cab with me. The driver came in his aged cab and Diego helped me and told me to be easy on my foot. He said adios and told me how much the cab would be and we pulled off. I am back home after a pretty easy flight and great margarita mix. I hope I have not bored you with my long blog. And that you don’t assume my take on the trip was negative I just wanted to let you know everything that occurred.

If you would like to travel to Cuba I have some tips that may come in handy for you. The tips are below: 

Do your research on Cuba and its borough’s there is about 15 in total.

If you are traveling from USA our dollar is nothing there try to exchange to Euro or Canadian before you go. (Get smaller bills)

Everything is pretty cheap I didn’t even spend all the money I had brought.

You will have to purchase a wi-fi card unless your service works there.

Drink bottle water versus faucet water.

Cuba lacks in finances so don’t expect over the top luxury but a richness in culture.

Some places may not have common toiletries or you may get charged for a to go box like I did.

If you have an airline credit card try to purchase your flight through their rewards program. I purchase through my SouthWest  rewards and my total was the flight taxes only. Which was only 70 bucks this tip can be used for any flights.

Next is pictures from my trip:

 Well I will be doing and YouTube vlog about my travels to La Playa,Cuba which will include more pictures and video footage,see you guys on the next blog !!

  My Visit to La Playa ,Cuba I was over excited about this trip but I am slowly getting a mild case of the blues.