#i am screeching through the halls of this house

[acourtofchaos]

RIGHT HOLD ON, I'M GONNA NEED TO BREATHE FOR A SEC...

OKAY, THAT'S BETTER, HERE WE GO-

I AM A MESS. RUINED. TOTALLY OBLITERATED BY THIS FIC RIGHT HERE. MY EXPECTATIONS WERE HIGH BECAUSE YOU ALWAYS DELIVER THE MOST EXQUISITE WORK THAT MAKES ME FORGET MY OWN NAME BUT HOLY FUUUUUCK THIS WAS SOMETHING ELSE. COME HERE AND LET ME KISS YOUR BRAIN.

I KNOW WE'VE TALKED ABOUT SOME OF YOUR WORK FOR THIS SERIES BUT WHEEEW WHAT A WAY TO START IT OFF

"You've heard, then," he'd replied, voice low as those blue eyes watched you over the rim of his glass.

It wasn't a question. It was a challenge. For all the audacity you had—Theodore had just as much.

THE MAN SAYS THREE WORDS AND ALREADY I WANT TO FALL TO MY KNEES FOR HIM. I LOVE YOU FOR GIVING HIM ALL THE AUDACITY. THE SORT OF NONCHALANCE TO HIS ADMITTANCE, NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE HUMBLE ABOUT IT BUT NOT BRAGGING EITHER, IS SO HOT OF HIM.

"Tell me," he breathed, his voice a low rumble against your lips as his fingers worked deftly at removing your skirt. "About those rumours..."

Your head fell back against the door, exposing the line of your throat as his mouth moved lower, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Whimpering, you caressed his shoulders, up his neck, finding his hair, fingers teasing the warm, hidden shell of his ears. At this, his back crested, and he moaned, pitching forward, hips working to fuse you with the door.

I SUDDENLY CANT REMEMBER A DAMN THING... EXCEPT THAT I'VE NEVER WANTED TO BE MELDED INTO A DOOR SO BAD

"You're right," he breathed, swirling his finger, your body pulsing underneath him—every nerve within you roaring to life. "I'll be easy on you...I'll go slow..."

I DONT KNOW WHY THIS DID SOMETHING TO ME BUT IT DID... SOMEBODY HELP, I CANT BREATHE

He wet his lips, pressing his mouth to yours in a brief kiss as he snapped his wrist, curling and scissoring inside of you. His hips rocked with his rhythm, and you caught sight of his erection straining against his jeans—

"Tight little thing," he growled, head dipping low as he watched his fingers disappear inside your dripping cunt. "I might fucking break you."

I THINK I JUST MOANED A LITTLE. THEO YOU COULD SNAP ME LIKE A TWIG AND I WOULDNT GIVE A FUCK GO RIGHT AHEAD

"As fucking delicious as I'd imagined," he cooed, drifting his other hand up your thigh, fingers kneading the trembling flesh. You swallowed, lungs still working to find their rhythm. "I don't think you have any idea how long l've wanted this...any idea what you do to me..."

WE LOVE A COCKY MAN LOSING HIS MIND AND ADMITTING TO PINING 🤌🤌 LET ME JUST GET DOWN ON ONE KNEE AND PROPOSE FOR YOU MAKING HIM JUST AS RUINED IN THE SITUATION INSTEAD OF BEING TOTALLY IN CONTROL OF HIMSELF. ILY.

-his body was massive behind yours, dwarfing you, a solid wall of heat at your back. You'd never felt so small, so fragile in a way that screamed breakable.

"Just the tip, yeah?" He whispered, and fuck—you almost moaned. His voice was ruined. "For now."

I'M NO LONGER CAPABLE OF WORDS... JUST NOISES... INCOHERENT BABBLING... OHMYFUCKINGGODI'MABOUTTOSTARTBITINGATTHEWALLS

"Merlin help you..." Theo groaned and it almost sounded pitying—dragging the swollen head of his cock against your clit before dipping lower, pressing against the folds of your greedy cunt— "you don't know what you're saying..."

His arm under your head curled inward, wrapping around your neck and holding you in place against him—his other hand guiding his length to your entrance and pressing in—shushing you softly as the first inch breached you and you cried out—as your mind blanked.

I HAVE SIMPLY PERISHED. DECEASED. MY SOUL HAS VACATED THE BUILDING. HOW IS IT YOU ALWAYS SEEM TO PUT THE THINGS I'M SO FUCKING WEAK FOR IN YOUR FICS?? THE ARM WRAPPING AROUND THE NECK??? THE HOLDING YOU IN PLACE??? LORD HAVE MERCY. YOU'RE TRYING TO KILL ME.

His lips pressed against your ear. "Shhh, you said you could handle me, yeah?"

THEO YOU COCKY SON OF A BITCH.

"Little more...you're doing so good, Bella..." he was cooing now, pressing kisses to your cheek. "I'll make it fit...we'll make it fit, won't we?"

AKSKFNRICKSMXJS. RIGHT AT THIS POINT YOU'RE GENUINELY TRYING TO MAKE SURE I GO INTO HEART FAILURE AREN'T YOU?? BE HONEST. THE PRAISE AND THE REASSURANCE AND THE TALKING THROUGH IT, I'M SCREECHING.

"Then why are you making it worse?" He hissed through his teeth, strain bleeding into his tone. You could hear the shift—wrecked, ruined, like he was barely holding onto himself. "Fuck, you're squeezing me...too tight...relax.."

THE FACT THAT HE'S JUST AS FUCKING WRECKED... MY GOD I AM ASCENDING.. 

"Keep that up and I'm going to leave you sore all day."

The thought made you clench again, your body betraying you as a broken apology fell from your lips—pain giving way to pleasure. "I'm—ohh—sorry-"

"Oh, you're going to be sorry." His pace quickened and you were seeing stars—bright and flashing and blurring your vision. "When you're spending all day in bed tomorrow...recovering..."

I WOULD QUITE HAPPILY SPEND THE REST OF MY LIFE BEDRIDDEN IF IT MEANT GETTING RAILED ON THE DAILY BY BD THEO. I FEAR I'M NEVER GOING TO RECOVER FROM WHAT THIS FIC HAS DONE TO ME

"Ohh—yes,” you choked out between moans. "Gods—you're huge—"

"I am," he groaned in your ear, the hand on your thigh shifting to your belly, palm pressing against your pelvis—he eased his pace, offering you deep, slow strokes, letting you spasm around every goddamn inch. "That's how deep I'm in you."

EXCUUUUUSE ME. MY SANITY IS HANGING BY A GODDAMN THREAD I SWEAR. 'THATS HOW DEEP I'M IN YOU' SOMEBODY CATCH ME I'M ABOUT TO FAINT.

"Good," he whispered, "I went easy on you."

You huffed, a slow smile creeping across your face. "Is that so?"

"Extremely so," he murmured, fingers tracing lazy circles over your hip. "Took all the willpower I had."

OHHHH THIS WAS MEAN... HOW DARE YOU DO THAT TO ME... NOW ALL I CAN IMAGINE IS HOW THEO WOULD FUCK IF HE ISN'T TAKING IT EASY. BUT ALSO HIM ADMITTING THE EFFORT IT TOOK HIM, THE STRUGGLE TO NOT LOSE HIS MIND, HAS ME WEAK

"Oh, she's cocky," he drawled, lips brushing your shoulder. "We'll see about that after I put you in ten different positions."

PLEASE. PLEASE. TWIST ME LIKE A PRETZEL AND THROW ME AROUND LIKE A PAPER BAG, THIS IS NOT THE THREAT YOU THINK IT IS THEODORE.

ANYWAY, I HONESTLY CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'VE HIT US WITH THIS FOR THE VERY FIRST DAY OF YOUR KINKTOBER, HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE THE REST WHEN THIS HAD ME BITING MY FIST AND CLAWING AT THE ARM OF MY CHAIR LIKE A RABID ANIMAL.

I LOVE YOUR BRAIN SO DAMN MUCH, YOU'RE AN ABSOLUTE GENIUS AND A MENACE AND I CANT WAIT TO SEE WHAT ELSE YOU'VE COOKED UP. ILY.

P.S SORRY THIS REBLOG IS SO LONG BUT WE BOTH KNOW BY NOW THEY'RE NEVER GONNA BE KEPT SHORT 🤣🤣

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 1st. theodore — size kink, big dick.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST | 2024.

summary: there’s a rumour going around that theodore nott has a big dick…..why not see it for yourself?

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, hogwarts uni (obviously), big dick!theo, size difference, size kink ofc, fingering, PIV, dirty talk, slowish sex, put on your fantasy cap for this one bc it’s a little wild, also, anyone know any wheelchair providers?

How the hell did you end up here? How had a night meant for celebration, for laughter and drinks and the triumph of a Quidditch victory, lead to this—

Fevered kisses, teeth clashing—your breath catching in the dim, muted glow of Theodore Nott's dorm—spine pressed against his door as his lips attacked yours, moving to your neck with a hunger that had your knees weak. There was a party, still alive somewhere down the hall, warmth spilling into the corridors, the echo of cheers and laughter floating past—but it was all a distant memory now. All of it blurred, lost in the way Theo's hands roamed over your hips, tugging you closer like he was starved.

Oh, right—the rumours.

Rumours have always had a way of creeping into places they don't belong. A whisper here, a careless word there. Stupid little fires, barely a spark until someone fans the flames. You've seen it before—how a single rumour can grow, how it can warp a simple night into something bigger. Something chaotic.

And now, well, you're living it.

Curiosity was what pulled you into his orbit tonight, what sparked the embers that had been burning between you two for far too long. Because Pansy Parkinson—loud, exaggerative, and far-too-tipsy—couldn't resist spilling some gossip mid-party, something about Daphne, something about Theodore and nine goddamn inches.

You know, the usual Quidditch post-match talk.

And it should have been nothing. It should have got lost in all the other Slytherin boy ramblings but instead, it stuck. Gods, it fucking stuck. Pansy's little comment sparked the fire in you, a fire that led to a conversation over drinks, your hand grazing his, and before you knew it, you were leaning into Theodore Nott at the punch bowl, asking questions you had no blasted right asking, yet went ahead and did anyways.

Something about...well—

"You've heard, then," he'd replied, voice low as those blue eyes watched you over the rim of his glass.

It wasn't a question. It was a challenge. For all the audacity you had—Theodore had just as much.

"I have," you leaned closer, your voice almost teasing as you whispered against the curve of his ear. "Big rumours, Teddy...huge, even."

He tensed, just slightly, the kind of reaction you noticed only because you were watching him so closely. You're pretty sure he wasn't expecting something like that to come out of your mouth—and you couldn't blame him, because truthfully, you weren't expecting it either.

That was, what you'd like to call, the point of no return.

There was a response from him. Something cocky enough—something like; "and do you make a habit of believing everything you hear?"

"Not everything," you said with a shrug, though your heart was in your fucking throat. "But I'm open to proof."

There weren't very many words exchanged after that—maybe some slight teasing—maybe another brush of his hand—but Theo was never a man to waste time, and it was clear that whatever curiosity you held for him had bubbled up now—heady and bold—and created a mess between you that couldn’t be contained.

The party, the victory, the cheers—it all became static as his hand slipped around your waist, his lips at your ear in a whisper. "Then let's put these rumours to rest."

You barely had the chance to nod before Theodore moved—grabbing your wrist and moving you through the crowd like you were something to be expedited, the sea of students parting before him. Pansy spotted you leaving, her eyes gleaming as she threw you a wicked smile and a drunken thumbs-up. You rolled your eyes, smirking back, but everything else blurred into the background as Theodore led you out of the common room, and before you knew it, you were inside his dorm.

The door slammed shut behind you, the cold surface meeting your back before his lips found yours—urgent, consuming. His hands moved with purpose, sliding under your shirt, lifting it over your head before you even realized what was happening. His own shirt followed, discarded carelessly onto the floor as he pressed his body against yours.

The memory blurred as the urgency of the present took over. You gasped at the feel of him, his entirety—hard, aching, massive. The outline of him was impossible to ignore, the mere suggestion of what was to come already making your heart pound wildly in your chest.

The rumours had seemed absurd at first, but now...now, they felt terrifyingly real. He was huge.

"Tell me," he breathed, his voice a low rumble against your lips as his fingers worked deftly at removing your skirt. "About those rumours..."

Your head fell back against the door, exposing the line of your throat as his mouth moved lower, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Whimpering, you caressed his shoulders, up his neck, finding his hair, fingers teasing the warm, hidden shell of his ears. At this, his back crested, and he moaned, pitching forward, hips working to fuse you with the door.

"I—I heard..." you tried to speak, but his mouth was on your neck, and the words tangled in your throat. "Gods—something about...nine inches..."

Theo hummed against your skin, the sound vibrating through you, sending blood pooling low. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his lips hovering over yours, his breath hot and heavy as he wrapped his hands around your thighs and lifted you up—carrying you toward his bed.

"What else." He muttered against your mouth.

"Daphne..." you panted, barely able to think straight with the way he was touching you, the way he was looking at you. "She...she said she couldn't take it all..."

"And if I say that's true?" He rasped, laying you down onto his comforter. "What then?"

A shiver shook you from the base of your spine, and you curled your legs around him, core clenching hard—he sprawled over you, his body massive—engulfing yours, roving his hands up and down your bare thighs as his lips left wet, warm kisses across your breasts, teeth digging into the sheer fabric of your bra—you were gasping, whimpering under him, your chest rising and falling so rapidly you'd think you'd ran a marathon.

"Gods—that's...an odd question, Teddy..." your hips bucked, seeking his touch, and he grazed your pussy over your underwear, thumb ghosting your clit through the fabric. You squeaked, and he silenced you with his mouth, tugging at the fabric until he'd fit his thick fingers under the hem. "Are you...mm..asking if I can handle it?"

"Fucking soaked already," Theo peeled away, gasping, watching you as he slid a digit through your hot slit, his breath hitching. "Yes—I'm asking if you can handle it."

"Fuck—I don't—I don't know..." he dragged a slickened finger over your clit—you quivered, biting your lip until you found your words. "Only one way to find out."

"You're right," he breathed, swirling his finger, your body pulsing underneath him—every nerve within you roaring to life. "I'll be easy on you...I'll go slow..." his thumb took over, his middle and fourth finger teasing your entrance, lips hovering over your ear. "Let's stretch you out first."

"I—" you began, and he plunged into you. "—fuck."

Theo crooked his fingers in your cunt, eyes focused on your flushing face, the flow of your moans, his breath shallow as you clenched and pulsed around him. His thumb traced rapid little lines around your swollen clit, two long fingers filling you full. He wet his lips, pressing his mouth to yours in a brief kiss as he snapped his wrist, curling and scissoring inside of you. His hips rocked with his rhythm, and you caught sight of his erection straining against his jeans—

"Tight little thing," he growled, head dipping low as he watched his fingers disappear inside your dripping cunt. "I might fucking break you."

He jutted his erection against your thigh and you moaned, clenching around him. "Mm—Theo—"

His eyes followed yours toward his crotch—you couldn't help yourself, your fingers burned to feel him—to stroke him—to feel the weight of him in your hand. He nodded, and amidst your gasps and moans you reached for him, grasping at his zipper and undoing the button, tugging his jeans and boxers down his thighs—

Theo groaned and your mouth watered. Those rumours—Gods, those fucking rumours—

"Fucking hell—" you breathed, wrapping your fingers around his thick, heavy cock—he choked, digits pumping you deep—your thighs shook, your pulse in your throat. You tightened your fist and stroked him, watching him from half-lidded eyes. "Theo—holy fuck.."

His lungs sputtered. "That enough proof for you, Bella?"

You nodded and he throbbed—twitched under your grip, blood biting his cheeks when you coated his head with the bead of his pre-cum, his breath uneven, tattered from the weight of lust—but so was yours.

You moaned. "Oh—Gods—I'm—"

Theo circled your stiff nub, pumping his fingers into your pussy, and pleasure wracked you, pouring into your pulse, your orgasm charging toward you at light speed—his lips found yours, softly, muffling your moans.

"You're close, I can feel it..." he muttered against your mouth, fingers dragging at your walls, groaning as you clenched—as your free hand gripped his hair harder. "Cum on my fingers, Bella, go on..."

You shuddered and snapped—pleasure pulsating from your core and through your limbs, your orgasm lighting up your spine. In its intensity, you bit at his bottom lip while your cunt clamped down around his fingers, a feral energy coursing—the need for more—the need for every goddamn thing he was willing to give you eating away at your sanity—all coherent thought gone, only dissipating further as Theo pulled his fingers from your soaked cunt and sucked them clean with a growl.

"As fucking delicious as I'd imagined," he cooed, drifting his other hand up your thigh, fingers kneading the trembling flesh. You swallowed, lungs still working to find their rhythm. "I don't think you have any idea how long l've wanted this...any idea what you do to me..."

Gods—you almost wanted to laugh—this felt like a fever dream. You'd been friends for years, the fact it took this to get you both here was astonishing. His blue eyes peered down at you—wide and waiting.

"Look at you," you muttered, eyes dipping down to his throbbing dick, still twitching insistently in your hand. "I think I know exactly what I do to you."

Theo snuffed a groan in his throat, but his cock twitched again, despite himself—there was no preventing that.

"Cocky as ever," he whispered, lips curling in a teasing grin. "But now's not the time, principessa..."

"I can handle you," you breathed out, though a tremor in your voice hinted at the uncertainty you felt.

"We'll see." He said. "Lay on your side."

With a flush creeping up your neck, you complied, turning to face the window. The moonlight filtered through the glass, casting a silver sheen over the rippling surface of the Black Lake. Theo moved behind you, his body flush against yours, the slickness of sweat making your skin cling together—one arm slipped beneath your head, cradling it, while the other slid under your thigh, lifting it with a deliberate, practiced motion.

His dick slid against you, the girth daunting enough if not for the sheer fucking length of it—his body was massive behind yours, dwarfing you, a solid wall of heat at your back. You'd never felt so small, so fragile in a way that screamed breakable.

Theo teased your slit, covering himself in your juices—

"Just the tip, yeah?" He whispered, and fuck—you almost moaned. His voice was ruined. "For now."

"Theo—I—I think I can handle it..." you were trying to convince yourself as much as him. You wanted him to enjoy himself, too. "Just…fuck me, please.."

"Merlin help you..." Theo groaned and it almost sounded pitying—dragging the swollen head of his cock against your clit before dipping lower, pressing against the folds of your greedy cunt— "you don't know what you're saying..."

His arm under your head curled inward, wrapping around your neck and holding you in place against him—his other hand guiding his length to your entrance and pressing in—shushing you softly as the first inch breached you and you cried out—as your mind blanked.

"Theo—" you gasped through the chokehold he had you in, his free hand holding your thigh up as it trembled. "That's—you're—fuck—"

He pulled out and rocked along you again, testing you, offering you centimeters of his length at time. Gooseflesh flooded you.

His lips pressed against your ear. "Shhh, you said you could handle me, yeah?"

His hand on your thigh shifted lower, resting on the crease. He rutted against you a few more times, dragging this out for everything it was worth until he brought the tip back to your entrance and pushed in—slowly, inexorably—spearing you open, splitting your cunt and prying you wide in a way that rid your breath.

You whimpered, hand scrambling for purchase on his hip behind you. "Ohhh—h-holy fuck.."

"Fucking hell...you're tight..." his arm around your neck tightened, holding you against him and he pressed in deeper. "That's barely half..."

You fought for air and found absolutely none, every muscle in your body tensing, your limbs trembling, your mind fizzing with staticky pleasure. You felt as though you could break in two.

"Fuck," he drew out again, and pressed back in. "You can barely take it."

He was right. You could barely fucking take it. A revelation that you weren’t surprised by—but that made all the blood in your body pool low, walls fluttering around him in protest.

"Gods, Theo—T-theo—" you grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin, eyes squeezed shut. "Wait—"

"Little more...you're doing so good, Bella..." he was cooing now, pressing kisses to your cheek. "I'll make it fit...we'll make it fit, won't we?"

You couldn't find a fucking modicum of sense to articulate a response. All you could do was feel—take and feel—the way he slid out, only to drive into you again, slowly, with a hiss of air through his teeth—drawing out loud, shameless groans from your chest.

"Mmm—breathe, Bella..." it was soft, soothing, like he was trying to coax you open with words. "Relax for me, yeah? Let me in...let me in..."

You obeyed without even thinking, pulling in shaky breaths, forcing your body to comply, even as your muscles screamed to stay tense—to fight the overwhelming fullness of him. You felt as though he couldn't possibly get deeper, but then he did, and he continued to until he bottomed out—his cockhead kissing your cervix, forcing a sound out of your chest that was more a sob than a moan.

Your eyes were shut so tight. "That's—"

"All of me," he interrupted, satisfaction dripping from every syllable. He rolled his hips, grinding against you, barely pulling out before pushing back in, and your whole body clenched in response. "Does it hurt?"

Every movement proved indefinitely that he was as long as he was thick—your core stretching to accommodate him. You felt him in places you'd never felt before—moulding and carving you out just for him, digging out new space inside you that only he could occupy.

"A little—“ the words were a whimper, and your walls tightened around him instinctively, fighting to adjust, to accommodate the impossible size of him. “Gods—“

"Then why are you making it worse?" He hissed through his teeth, strain bleeding into his tone. You could hear the shift—wrecked, ruined, like he was barely holding onto himself. "Fuck, you're squeezing me...too tight...relax.."

He pulled out and thrust back in, harder this time, sucking in air through his teeth as he worked you wider with each plunge into your soaked cunt. Your body rebelled, clenching down around him again, and he groaned, the sound vibrating through you, his hips snapping against yours in response.

"That's not going to make it easier, you know." His voice was a tight growl, but there was a grin in it, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. "Keep that up and I'm going to leave you sore all day."

The thought made you clench again, your body betraying you as a broken apology fell from your lips—pain giving way to pleasure. "I'm—ohh—sorry-"

"Oh, you're going to be sorry." His pace quickened and you were seeing stars—bright and flashing and blurring your vision. "When you're spending all day in bed tomorrow...recovering..."

It only took seconds before he was grunting behind you—lost in your tight heat as he held you against him, hooking your thigh up toward your chest as his arm tightened around your neck, cock ramming your cunt—colliding with your cervix, pushing screams from your lungs. You couldn't think—couldn't catch your breath as he drove into you over and over.

"Fuck—so good…so fucking wet..." Theo moaned, the sound of his cock slippery and lewd, broadcasting evidence of your arousal. Face on fire, you tossed your head back against his shoulder and closed your eyes, chewing your lip, rocking with the force of his strokes. “You like that—being filled like this...greedy little thing..."

You whinged; he was boring into your stomach, delight gushing through your veins. You had never been with a man this endowed, and this fucking ruthless. It made you throb, set you aflame, whirled your brain with desire. Words eluded you.

"Ohh—yes,” you choked out between moans. "Gods—you're huge—"

"I am," he groaned in your ear, the hand on your thigh shifting to your belly, palm pressing against your pelvis—he eased his pace, offering you deep, slow strokes, letting you spasm around every goddamn inch. "That's how deep I'm in you."

At that, you moaned, shamelessly. Cocky bastard he was. You knew now that he was more than entitled to it.

"Can...fuck—can I cum in you?" His fingers slipped to your clit, slowly swirling over it—you didn't even have a second to process that question before the pleasure wracked you so hard you cried out, and he growled. "Fuck—let me cum in you...in this pretty little cunt.."

Somewhere in the blur, you registered his words—low, rough, pulling at the frayed edges of your sanity. Contraceptives. You were on them. It was the last rational thought you had left, buried deep under layers of heat and want. You knew you were fine, but the way he asked, in that voice—Gods—

His fingers increased their pace and you wailed. "Theo—holy f-fuck—yes—yes please!"

Lightning euphoria ripped up your spine with a shameless shriek, your climax shattering you. Your cunt throbbed and milked his dick, your thighs twitching, and your back reached for the wall but his arm around you kept you in place, pleasure possessing your nerves. It seemed an eternity—he was still fucking you through it, breaking you deep, and then he shattered too—breath washing over the back of your neck, chest heaving and lungs sputtering as he spilled his release into you, deep and sticky and hot.

You were still floating between realms of sensation and reality—your mind struggling to tether itself back to consciousness when Theo finally pulled out, releasing you. Both of you were heaving, chests rising and falling in tandem, your bodies slick with sweat and satisfaction.

A moment passed, your breaths slowly steadying, when you felt his arm snake around your waist, pulling you effortlessly against his chest. You shot him a weak, lopsided smile over your shoulder, still catching your breath.

"You okay?" He murmured, his voice a quiet hum in the afterglow.

"More than," you nodded, though your body still hummed with the remnants of pleasure. A hollow ache replaced where he'd been, leaving you startlingly aware of how empty you felt without him. "That was...you are...

"I know," he purred, lips grazing the sensitive spot behind your ear, the smirk practically carved into his breath. You could feel his smugness radiating off him, a tangible thing. "Hope your curiosity was sated."

You let out a breathy laugh, the warmth of his body seeping into your skin. "That, among other things."

"Good," he whispered, "I went easy on you."

You huffed, a slow smile creeping across your face. "Is that so?"

"Extremely so," he murmured, fingers tracing lazy circles over your hip. "Took all the willpower I had."

"Sure," you teased. "You're just saying that because I took you so well."

He chuckled, low and sinful, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your spine.

"Oh, she's cocky," he drawled, lips brushing your shoulder. "We'll see about that after I put you in ten different positions."

Your heart stuttered, your muscles tensing at the sheer boldness of the statement. Heat pooled in your belly once more, that insatiable curiosity sparking again. You knew this night was far from over.

Perhaps a little more proof wouldn’t hurt...

You turned your head just slightly, voice breathy but wanting. "Please do."

[idkyetxoxo]

Jacaerys Velaryon - Timid Flames

Summary - In a politically arranged marriage, they unexpectedly find solace in each other. As they navigate the storm of familial conflict, a night of celebration reveals desires and bravery, challenging the bounds of their union and the roles they play in a dangerous game of power.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2759

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon had only been wed for three moons—a union born out of political necessity, carefully arranged to forge a fragile peace. 

The bride, Alicent Hightower's youngest daughter, had been offered as part of King Viserys's latest attempt to mend the rift tearing apart his divided family. 

After the bitter fallout from the petition for Driftmark, this marriage had been the king's insistence, hoping it might soothe the growing tensions.

Surprisingly, the match had not been as cold and distant as some feared. 

In fact, much to Jace's amusement, our marriage had become rather... agreeable. 

Unlike my more impulsive and outspoken brothers, I shared Jace's temperament—thoughtful, measured, and often preferring quiet contemplation over conflict. 

This similarity made it easy for us to find common ground, and more often than not, we ended up agreeing with one another on most matters.

Jace, though shy at times, had grown fond of me quicker than he expected. In quiet moments, when he allowed himself to reflect on our marriage, he felt grateful. 

"You know," he once remarked with a soft chuckle as we shared a private dinner in Dragonstone, "I expected our union to be just another duty. But it hasn't felt like that at all." 

He reached across the table, lightly clasping my hand. "I enjoy this... us."

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest. "As do I. It's strange, isn't it? To be at ease in a marriage forged by others."

We were now bound for King's Landing, a return prompted by the upcoming wedding of my elder brother, Aemond. 

Though I could sense Jace and his brothers were not particularly eager to make the journey back to the capital so soon after leaving it, I longed to see my family again. 

I missed them—Helaena most of all, with her gentle spirit and enigmatic ways.

Standing at the ship's edge, I watched the shimmering blue waters stretch out before us, occasionally lifting my gaze to the sky. 

There, Silverwing, Vermax, and Arrax flew overhead, their gleeful screeches piercing the air as they relished the freedom of the open skies. The sight of the dragons always stirred something in me—a mix of awe and pride.

"Are you happy to be returning?" Jace's voice came from behind me, softer than the wind that tugged at our hair. 

I turned to find him watching me with that familiar, shy look on his face. I nodded, sighing with contentment.

"I am," I said, offering him a small smile before glancing down. "I apologize if you're not."

Jace shook his head and joined me at the railing, his shoulder brushing against mine as he leaned beside me. 

His fingers, warm and calloused from dragon riding, lightly grazed mine, sending a wave of warmth rushing through me.

"I'm fine," he assured me, though I could sense the faint unease in his tone. "It's Luke who's not faring well with the journey." 

He nodded towards his younger brother, who stood further down the ship's deck, looking paler than usual, his face scrunched with discomfort.

I chuckled softly. "Poor Luke."

Jace smiled at that, but there was a quietness between us now, a lingering tension not easily dismissed. 

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

The grand hall of the Keep was filled with the sound of music, laughter, and the clinking of goblets as the celebrations for Aemond's wedding reached full swing. 

My brother looked every bit the proud groom, standing tall with his new bride by his side, but my focus wasn't on him. 

Instead, I was hyper-aware of the tension swirling around Jace and Luke, who sat beside me at our family's table, enduring a barrage of thinly veiled insults from my brothers.

Aegon, as usual, was at the centre of it, his words dipped in honeyed sarcasm as he spoke just loud enough for all of us to hear.

"How's the sea voyage treating you these days, Luke? Not planning on visiting Driftmark anytime soon, I hope," Aegon remarked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

The implication was clear—he was deliberately fanning the flames of the bitter conflict over Driftmark's succession, each word dripping with sarcasm designed to ignite tempers and deepen rifts, a cruel game that felt all too familiar.

Luke's jaw tightened, but he kept his eyes fixed on his plate, refusing to rise to the bait.

Jace, seated beside him, wasn't faring much better. He sat rigid, his shoulders tense, clearly biting his tongue to keep from responding.

"Must be difficult, sharing the same roof with those who think you don't belong," Aegon continued, his grin widening as he lifted his goblet to his lips.

I shot a sharp glance at Aegon, my irritation bubbling beneath the surface. 

Helaena, seated to my left, tried to offer me a reassuring smile, but even her calming presence wasn't enough to quell the frustration building inside me. I hated this constant tension, this incessant prodding from my brothers, who refused to let old wounds heal.

To drown out their jabs, I did the only thing I could think of at the moment, I reached for my goblet and took a deep sip of the rich wine. 

The warmth spread quickly through my body, dulling the edge of Aegon's words.

But one sip wasn't enough.

As the evening dragged on and the taunts kept coming—Aemond, more subtle but no less pointed in his barbed remarks—I found myself reaching for the goblet again and again, the wine a welcome escape. 

It made everything seem a little softer, a little less sharp. Even Jace, who sat brooding beside me, looked more relaxed in the golden glow of the torchlight as the alcohol dulled my senses.

By the time the feast was at its height, I was no longer just drinking to forget. I was enjoying the lightness in my limbs, the freedom of inhibition. 

The wine had worked its magic, and I found myself smiling at Jace—really smiling, more freely than I had in moons.

"You're too tense," I teased, my voice soft and slightly slurred as I leaned toward him with a grin. 

My fingers toyed with the rim of my goblet as I looked at him with a mischievous glint in my eyes.

Jace blinked, clearly taken aback by my sudden shift in demeanour. His eyes widened, and I saw a flush creep up his neck. 

He wasn't used to this—me, this playful, open side of myself that rarely came out. 

Normally, I was thoughtful and composed, matching his temperament. But tonight, I felt like throwing caution to the wind.

"Relax a little, husband," I whispered, leaning closer than I normally would, my lips grazing the shell of his ear as I spoke. 

My hand drifted lazily to his arm, fingers trailing along the fabric of his sleeve. "We're at a wedding. Let yourself enjoy it."

Jace stiffened, his entire body going rigid as he struggled to process what was happening. He wasn't accustomed to this kind of open flirtation from me, and certainly not in public. 

His cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink, and he swallowed hard, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape.

"I—uh, I'm fine," he stammered, though his voice betrayed him. He sounded anything but fine. His face was a mix of confusion, surprise, and something else I couldn't quite place.

I laughed softly, delighted at his reaction. It was rare to see Jace flustered, but here he was—blushing, his carefully composed demeanour slipping with each teasing word I threw his way. 

 The way he tried so hard to remain serious only made it more fun.

"No, you're not," I teased again, my voice taking on a singsong quality as I leaned even closer, my breath warm against his ear. "You're all stiff and serious. You should loosen up a bit."

Jace's gaze flickered to the goblet in my hand, his concern growing. "I think you've had enough," he said gently, his fingers brushing against mine as he tried to take the goblet from me.

But I wasn't having it. I laughed, pulling the goblet back with a grin. 

"Don't be such a bore, Jace," I teased, the wine making me bolder than I'd ever been. "Don't tell me what to do, not when I'm having so much fun."

The way his face flushed deeper and his eyes widened at the playful lilt of my voice sent a thrill through me. 

For a moment, I forgot about the barbed comments from Aegon and Aemond, the lingering tension in the room. 

All I cared about was the way Jace was looking at me—flustered, surprised, and just a little bit helpless.

"I—I think you should rest," Jace tried again, his voice now tinged with nervous laughter. He was still trying to be the responsible one, the composed husband. 

But his usual control was slipping, and I could see the internal struggle in his eyes.

Instead of listening, I giggled and leaned even closer, letting my fingers dance up his arm. "Or..." I purred, a wicked smile curling my lips, "maybe you should dance with me."

Before Jace could protest, I was on my feet, pulling him up with me. He let out a startled laugh as I dragged him onto the dance floor, his hand clasped tightly in mine. 

His surprise was clear, but I was already spinning him into the centre of the hall, the music and wine making my movements feel light and carefree.

"Wait—what—" Jace stammered, completely caught off guard. He stumbled slightly as I twirled him, clearly not expecting me to take the lead so boldly. 

His eyes darted around the room, and I could see the mix of amusement and mortification on his face.

The people around us watched with varying degrees of curiosity and amusement, but I barely noticed. 

All I could focus on was Jace—how out of sorts he was, how flustered he looked, and how much fun it was to see him like this.

"I think I'm going to regret this," Jace muttered under his breath, though there was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

He looked at me with a mixture of exasperation and affection, clearly at a loss for how to handle this version of me.

"Not if you have fun," I whispered, pulling him close as the music swelled. 

The wine had made me bold, and I relished the way he seemed to falter under my touch. For once, Jace was the one who couldn't keep his composure.

As the night wore on, I continued to flirt, to tease, to dance. Jace was a blushing mess by the end of it, his usual stoic demeanour completely shattered.

He loved the extra attention—I could tell by the way he kept stealing glances at me, his eyes lingering just a bit too long, his lips twitching into an almost smile every time I laughed or teased him.

Even though he tried to be the responsible one, I knew he secretly enjoyed it—the way I made him feel tonight, how I drew him out of his shell. 

"Are you even trying to enjoy yourself?" I teased, glancing up at Jace as I pulled him onto the dance floor once again.

He gave me a small, shy smile, his hand resting on the small of my back as he followed my lead. 

"I am. Just... keeping an eye on you," he said gently, though I could sense his amusement beneath the worry.

"Keeping an eye on me? I'm your wife, not some unruly dragon," I said with a smirk, spinning away from him with a playful twirl. 

He caught me again, steadying me with the ease of someone well-practised in handling situations beyond his control. 

I leaned in closer, speaking just loud enough for him to hear, "But I like it when you watch me."

Jace's blush was immediate, his gaze dropping for a brief moment before he met my eyes again. He looked as if he wanted to say something—something meaningful—but just then, a familiar voice interrupted us.

"Seems you've had quite a bit of wine tonight," a deep, smooth voice said from behind me.

I turned, finding myself face-to-face with Lord Ormund Hightower, one of my distant cousins on my mother's side. His smile was easy, but there was something in his gaze that felt too familiar, too lingering as it settled on me.

"Perhaps," I replied, trying to maintain my composure as I felt his eyes linger a bit too long. "But it's a wedding. Surely a bit of wine and dancing is expected."

"Of course, princess," Lord Ormund said with a chuckle, his gaze sliding between Jace and me. 

"Though one might say your enthusiasm tonight stands out." His tone was light, but the implication was clear. 

His gaze flicked back to me, lingering in a way that made me uncomfortable, a hint of something more than politeness in his look. "I didn't realize you were so... spirited."

Jace's expression shifted beside me, his dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He moved closer, his hand settling protectively at my waist, but still, he said nothing.

"Spirited, perhaps," I said, trying to brush off the comment with a smile. "But no more than any other on a night like this."

Lord Ormund gave a slow nod, his gaze lingering on me a beat longer before he added, "It's good to see you enjoying yourself. Though, if you're not careful, some might get the wrong impression of your... exuberance." 

His smile widened, a teasing glint in his eye. "Not everyone will see it as harmless fun."

Before I could react, Jace stepped forward, his posture straight and his tone steady, but there was an unmistakable edge to his voice.

"I think you've made your point, my lord," Jace said calmly, though his grip on my waist tightened ever so slightly. "And it's noted. But I would remind you that my wife's behaviour is of no concern to anyone here, except perhaps me."

The subtle warning in his voice wasn't lost on Lord Ormund, who raised his hands in mock surrender, the smile never leaving his face. 

"No offence meant, Prince Jacaerys. Merely a friendly observation."

Jace's gaze didn't waver, his expression unyielding. "Of course. But observations, when unnecessary, can sometimes be mistaken for something else." 

His voice remained level, but there was a quiet protectiveness in his tone that made it clear the conversation was over.

Lord Ormund hesitated, then gave a slight bow. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, both of you," he said before turning on his heel and walking away, though I could feel the weight of his gaze still lingering behind him.

As soon as Lord Ormund was out of earshot, I turned to Jace, my heart pounding not from fear but from the rush of the moment. I wasn't used to seeing him like this—so firm, so sure of himself. 

There was something deeply reassuring in the way he had stepped in, calmly but assertively.

"You didn't have to do that," I said softly, though I couldn't deny the warmth spreading through my chest.

Jace met my gaze, the tension in his expression softening now that we were alone again. "Yes, I did," he replied simply. "You shouldn't have to put up with that. Especially not from him."

I looked at him for a long moment, taking in the way his jaw was still set, the way his hand remained at my waist as if he wasn't quite ready to let go. 

His protectiveness stirred something deep within me—a mixture of gratitude and something else, something more intense.

"You don't usually speak up like that," I said, a teasing smile tugging at my lips. "I rather like it."

Jace looked slightly embarrassed, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

"Someone has to look out for you, especially when you seem determined to cause a scene," he said, though his tone was light, playful.

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Perhaps I'm more trouble than you bargained for."

Jace's smile grew, and this time, it was genuine and warm, the blush fading from his cheeks as his confidence returned. 

"I knew what I was getting into. And, if I'm being honest, I don't mind it."

The confession, quiet and simple, hung in the air between us. It wasn't grand or dramatic, but it meant something. Jace didn't just tolerate my boldness tonight—he liked it. 

He liked me, in all my messiness and unpredictability.

For the rest of the night, his hand remained at my waist, steady and reassuring, a quiet but constant reminder that I wasn't alone.

That no matter what happened, Jace would always be there, standing by my side, ready to protect me from whatever—or whomever—tried to push me too far.

A/n - I need to stop with the marriage of convenience trope x

[reallyromealone]

Title: oh hey a mate(s)

Chapter: prologue

Fandom: obey me

Pairing: demon brother's x reader

Warnings: male reader, omegaverse, soulmate, neglectful/abusive family, sexual repression, reader doesn't eat because Beelzebub is a dink, fluff, anxiety

Notes: I wrote this for me mostly

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

(Name) Hummed to himself as he carried two buckets of water from the well, kicking a stone that was infront of him as he looked up at the clear summer sky as the wind blew the wild flowers along the path.

He was so exhausted, having woken at five am to start the day and prepare breakfast for his family, the buckets of water were to help his sister get ready for some event, apparently the demon princes were leaving their palace to find a mate of some sort, his sister was obsessed with them... He didn't really know much about them as he stayed in the village and his sister and parents tended to go into town whenever they could.

He didn't know if he wanted his sister to get chosen, on one hand he wouldn't have to deal with the beta woman and her... Well her but also he didn't want to be the focus of his parents, the two resentful of his gender combination as if he had any say in it "male Omega? Not natural" his mother would sneer as if it was some freak science expression, it's clearly natural if he's here.

Going through the back door, he slipped into the house shoes he was given and went up to his sister's room.

"So many alphas! They will have to choose me!" She swooned as she wore her best clothes for the princes, (name) silent as he helped her dress.

"Our soulmate marks with match and it will be wonderful!" She gushed and yelped when the dress was too tight, turning with a cold glare "watch it!" She screeched and slapped him hard across the face "damage this dress and I'll end you!"

He was so thankful when they were leaving, his sister getting into the carriage first as their father helped her in, the Alpha looking fondly at his daughter, turning to give a cold look to (name).

He will never understand their strife.

"Under no circumstances are you to leave this property, am I clear?" His mother hissed and (name) sighed, nodding "of course mother" he said evenly as the prudish beta scowled and turned away, going to the carriage where (father's name) helped her in, not even giving his son another glance before getting in himself and leaving.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he turned back to the house and the sound of silence echoed through the halls of this place he grew up in "finally... I'm taking a bath"

Despite being treated like dirt he still had a decent room in the back area and a bath, using his savings to get nesting supplies and the occasional nice thing for himself, taking a job at the local bakery until he can leave this place.

Leave this place and never look back.

Oh a dream.

(Name) Sunk into the bubbly water as he stared at his soulmate mark, a ring with a web in it, spikes at the top bottom and sides of the ring. He wondered who he was soulmates with... Would they love him?

Well let's just enjoy the silence while one can.

Alphas, betas and omegas lined up excitedly as the brothers looked over for their soulmate, each one presenting their soulmate mark but got shot down immediately by the demons.

(Sisters name) Looked excited as Asmodeus stepped towards her with a flirty grin, the young beta woman showing both her soulmate mark and her chest "am I who you're looking for?" She asked with a grin and the brunette looked at her with a smile "not even in the slightest" he whispered sweetly before a scent hit his nose.

"Is there another Omega you aren't showing us?" He asked with an earie tone, the scent was nothing like the omegas they seen before them no no... This was their omegas scent.

He knew it.

They were close, close enough for them.

"Where are they?"

The brothers entered the small country home, the sound of humming echoed in the furthest corner of the home and the alphas began their hunt.

(Name) Was dressed in a soft puffy tunic and casual pants as he made himself a sandwich, no one to stop the Omega from having an excellent lunch as he hummed softly, completely unaware that someone was watching him from the door... Specifically the soulmate mark on his arm.

Setting the sandwich down on a plate he went to go get some juice he squeezed that morning only to turn and see a red head in a fancy military outfit eating it, a sweet smile on his face and silence fell in the room before (name) spoke "who are you and why are you eating my fucking sandwich" (name) seethed out as the Alpha smiled "it's a good sandwich"

"Beelzebub, you don't take from our omega! You know better!" A voice barked out and (name) looked to see a tall black haired man with red eyes, horns on his head and "you're... Wait that means... Oh." (Name) Seemed to short circuit as he processed the fact that the princes his sister was obsessed with were in his kitchen for some god forsaken reason "why... May I ask are you here? Is it for my sister?"

"Who?" The sleepy prince asked and (name) seemed more distressed as pharamones escaped his scent glands "my sister! You know me but a beta and a woman! Kitchens aren't for princes...!" He seemed genuinely distressed and stressed out as he couldn't make sense of why there were there "shh~ it's alright... We smelt you on her, your family was keeping you away... I wonder why" a pretty man said getting close to (name) and pumping pharamones to calm him but (name) was to concerned on why they were here to begin with "you-- you called me your omega, what are you talking about?!"

"The soulmate mark" the black haired man stepped forward the pretty boy prince lifted his arm "see~? You're our mate!"

(Name) Tried to make sense as he was led out of the kitchen holding a glass of orange juice as his sister stood seething along with his parents.

Great.

Just what he needed after this bombshell.

"We will help you collect your things ~ don't worry you're always welcome to visit them!" The brief introduction stepping out, (name) learned the flirty one was named Asmodeus and the sa switch thief was Beelzebub and the black haired one was named Lucifer, the other brothers quieter but the blond one... Satan, he was analyzing the family closely and frankly, Satan could smell bs a mile away.

(Namely could feel the tension as he went to his room, Belphegor and Mammon following happily as the white haired demon looked at his mates room, much less nicer than the rest of the house and very small though the bed looked comfy to say the least "Bel, don't nap there" he said to his brother knowing if he did they would have to drag him out of that bed. (Name) Thought over on what he would need to bring, packing his important stuff and treasured items before going to his clothes "you don't gotta bring that... Unless there's something pretty in there" Mammon teased and (name) looked scandalized at his words only for the demon to laugh.

(Name) Didn't have many belongings so the packing was quick as Mammon held the bags, giving (name) a tight lipped smile when he tried to take them "(name), don't make the princes hold your things!" His mother scolded him and (name) went rigid and went to take the bags anxiously but Asmodeus gently took one of his hands instead "ah, but what alphas would we be if you not help OUR omegas things?" (Name) Tried not to make eye contact with his family as his sister seethed, he knew she wasn't going to make a scene here; not with so many people.

Not infront of the men she obsessed over.

(Name) Was ushered to the carriages where Lucifer helped him in, he could hear his sister argue with their parents as he was seated between Mammon and Lucifer, their pharamones making him a bit dizzy as Beelzebub and Leviathan sat infront of him.

(Name) Didn't know what to say as the demons spoke amongst themselves and Mammon kept an arm around (name)s shoulders, the smell of his expensive cologne and pharamones were tempting but (name) tried to not react "I'm quite surprised" Beelzebub commented as he snacked on some candies he stored in the carriage "what do you mean?"(Name) Asked curiously, voice soft and careful as the reality of everything set in "you haven't went into preheat, it's weird" he said simply and (name) seemed uncomfortable before speaking "o-oh, I'm on really strong suppressants..." He explained awkwardly and the others seemed to understand a bit "when was your last heat?" Lucifer asked in a serious tone and (name) bit his lip "uh... Three years ago?"

Oh he did not like the the silence that fell in the carriage "Asmo and Satan are gonna be piiiised" mammon said with a laugh and Lucifer sighed "we are going to have to take you off those... You're only supposed to be on those for a few months and then off for a few months" Lucifer said seriously and (name) nodded, worried about well... Mating with them.

Oh god, he's barely spoken to someone outside his family let alone sat with the concept of mating!

God he didn't even -- no one's explained that to him other than keep your legs closed and being shamed deeply for being an Omega!

Oh god it was really settling in now.

There goes his day dreams of living in the woods.

Fuck.

The ride was silent for the rest of the trip save for the occasional crunch from Beelzebub, reminding (name) that he hadn't eaten yet as the red haired man infront of him ate away happily but (name) didn't say anything about his stomach turning into knots as he remembered what his mother taught him, the betas words like venom in his brain.

'an Omega lives to serve, your needs don't matter over your alphas, never ask for something-- only accept if offered'

So he ignored the knots in his stomach, ignoring the fact he was starving and hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon due to the rush of preparing his sister for something that he ended up getting.

Oh god she seemed pissed, like he had never seen that much anger from one person holy shit, god be did not want to have to deal with that. He's probably going to see her at the wedding, fuck there was going to be a wedding! He's going to be marrying seven princes! Fucking hell did that mean he was a royal!?

"We're here!" Mammon said as Lucifer was out fast to help (name) out, the Omega snapping from his meltdown to see the gloved hand and gently took it, helped out and kept close "this is your home now!" Asmodeus said charmingly as he walked beside him "I'm sure we will get along VERY well"

[deadsetobsessions]

Headmaster Dumbledore is sure that the ghosts of Hogwarts were hiding something. He’d be the first to admit that he’s nosy when it came to things like these, but he simply doesn’t have the time. Whatever that lingered these halls, he’s sure does not mean Hogwarts any harm. The ghosts would not protect it if it did.

Albus Dumbledore Hummer around a lemon drop as his quill scratched over endless parchment paper.

His wand glowed green for a brief second, an acknowledgement, and settled down into its current owner’s hold.

——

Danny Phantom hadn’t thought the castle he found during the summer months in this universe would be… so full of life. Not when there were ghosts, floating around like the castle were their own home.

Magic.

They were ghosts made of magic.

His core struggled, at first, to survive. Then, it took the magic and thrived.

He floated, invisible amongst the glittering candles beneath the imitated night sky, and watched students file in.

Quite different, from his own entrance.

He had floated into the tower, having felt a hint of resistance that he knew now were the castle wards. The ghosts, what he thought were ghosts before he realized ectoplasmic ghosts existed, stopped dead. Hah.

The shades dancing and whirling and conversing froze as he entered the tower. Life and death, and the beings that walked the line, stopped at the arrival of the One Who is the Line. The boy king wreathed in black and green glanced around.

“Hello. I’m Phantom.”

“The High King,” a ghost whispered. “Our king.”

“He’s an American?” Another one asked, scandalized. Danny, surrounded by those who he recognized as his, cracked the first smile he’s had in a while.

“Who cares? He’s…” The knight sunk to his knees, bowing with his ghostly sword in front of him.

The ghosts bowed. Danny floated in further. “Can you tell me where I am?”

“Of course.”

——

Now… he’s watching the children get Sorted. Weird, for a hat to decide your classmates, but whatever.

Harry Potter’s name is called, and the whispers broke out. He doesn’t know why, but Danny couldn’t ask the ghosts. They barely know the current headmaster, as the dead generally care only for their own times.

Danny decides to visit the lake octopus. Lake squid? Something like that. The mer people beneath the waters liked him, the last time he went. The Sorting is put out of Danny’s mind. He’s dead now, too. The only thing he cares about now is to explore the vast halls of Hogwarts and the occasional visit to the kitchen to steal some food for his living body.

(Thank the Ancients he found a house elf who knew what seasoning was.)

(Sometimes, Danny flew to where his home would have been and gets comfort food at the nearest town. He missed it, but he can’t go back.)

The ghosts know by now to call for Phantom should they need something (“I’m American,” he joked at the ghost. “We’re not big on kings. You can just call me Phantom.”)

——

The third year he’s there, Danny feels the effects of Clockwork’s power. When he investigates, it’s the red headed girl he once saw leaving the library, paper clutched in her hand.

She helped save one of his subjects, so he owes her. Plus, if she’s using Clockwork’s powers, this Hermione has potential.

And… she’s using it to study.

She reminds him of Jazz.

——

A wave of ice crackled and froze the fleeing rat and the feral wolf man.

“What?!” Harry screeched to a stop, eyes wide at the ghost child in front of him.

Danny turned, and landed gently on the ground. Snape snarled at him in suspicion. Danny allowed himself to become living again, black hair and blue eyes and tan skin replacing the white, green, black thing his dead form had.

“Who’re you?” The red-headed boy, Ron?, asked him through gritted teeth.

Danny smiled at them, dimples appearing. “A friend.”

Before the trio and co. could say anything, Danny whips his head around, palm coming up.

“Stop.” He orders. The creeping sense of cold and dread shuttered to a stop. “Go over there,” he said, and the dementors, hovering at the edge of his periphery obeyed. Danny turned back to the mildly terrified and flummoxed group.

“Let’s go. You’re all going to catch a cold, if you don’t move it. Especially you, scrawny and greasy.” He pointed at the godfather and Snape.

——

“Hey, Danny?”

“What, Harry?”

“Why’d you help us? I mean, you said you didn’t want to involve yourself in stuff like that.”

Danny hummed, wisped tail curling up against him as he soaked in the sun’s rays. “Because you reminded me of myself. And in the end, you died.”

“You literally brought me back,” Harry deadpanned, remembering the place between life and death, and how the angry Danny was when he stormed onto that train platform. The King had taken him by the scruff of his shirt collar like a particularly incensed mother cat, and dragged him off away from a puzzled Dumbledore.

“You were being stupid. You’re too young to die.”

“Like you?”

Danny snorted. “Nah. I didn’t have a choice.”

[ihavethedreamies]

In the Doghouse | Yeosang

Kang Yeosang - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.8k

Pairing: Dog-Hybrid!Yeosang x Cat-Hybrid!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Hybrid AU!, Historical/Period, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Kitten, Love), Swearing, Kissing, Biting/Marking, Bonding/Mating, Heat/Rut, Pheromones, Oral (F! Receiving), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Breeding Kink (u3u)

Trigger Warning: There is some talk of abuse and/or neglect in this. It doesn't go into detail, but the reader in beginning is living with a cruel relative. It's not related to Yeosang or the relationship between the two. Also, Yeosang is a 'Police Dog', but there is very little talk of police and cops.

Author's Note: This is NOT Omegaverse, but they do both go into rut/heat. They have animals ears and tails and he's got a knotted doggy cock. Yeosang is supposed to be a Doberman, even though the breed wasn't in this time period. This is set in the late Victorian Era of London, and sorry if it's not completely accurate to the time.

I will be doing all the members and uploading them as I go. I normally like to upload a whole series at a time but I'm trying to pack to move.

-> Series Hub <-

🦁 Hongjoong's 🦁

🐻 Jongho's 🐻

🐯 San's 🐯

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

"Geddat fuckin' cat!" You heard the storekeeper’s shout echo through the narrow street as you dashed in the opposite direction. You clutched the bag closer to you, hoping to hide it from prying eyes. You purposefully wrapped your tail around your leg, hoping to make it less obvious, ears flattening to your head to blend in with your hair. Turning a narrow corner into an alley, you heard some footsteps against the cobblestone behind you, but they ran past where you had entered. Leaving the alley into the opposite street, you turned the way you had come, back toward your house. Sliding into another back alley, you placed the strings of the bag in your mouth. Without stopping, you jumped up onto the ladder hanging down from your second-story window. Climbing up the rungs, you pulled the window open all the way and jumped into your bedroom. Unhooking the rope and wood ladder from the windowsill, you reeled it in and shut the window. Panting for breath, you rested against the wall, sliding down so you were sitting on the floor. Heaving for air, you glanced at the bag that you had brought it, laying in a heap on the floor under the window. Finally, when you could breathe easily enough, you got on your knees so you could reach and grab the sack, opening it. Inside, the two loaves of bread were still steaming and your stomach rumbled in desire.

"Man, I wanna fish…" You sniffed in displeasure, tail whipping angrily behind you. It was bad enough you had to steal food to eat, but all you could typically manage was some bread or maybe potatoes. As you stood to close your door so you could enjoy your haul, you heard banging from downstairs. Someone was pounding on the door. You heard your aunt call for the person to hold on and you stood still, staring at the open door of your bedroom. Did they really find you? They never had before…

"Hello, madam. I hate to bother you, but I was told that a thief might have made their way into your second story window." You heard from down the hall, at the base of the stairs. Your eyes widened in panic and you prayed that your aunt would cover for you. Fat chance.

"Second story? You've got to… (Y/N) get down here, right now!" She screeched and your ears flattened at the noise. Stepping forward as quietly as you could, you stuck your head out just enough to look past the door frame to see your aunt standing halfway up the stairs. Her own tail was swinging back and forth with ire and her arms were crossed. The nastiest look you had ever seen was on her face and you clicked your tongue.

"What did you steal this time, you lazy stray!" She hissed and you shuffled out of the room, bag hanging limply from your hand at your side. There was a man in a police uniform in the doorway, and next to him…A dog hybrid. He was…beautiful, honestly. Prettier than you for sure. His hair was longer, with a slight wave at the end of the black strands, two tall, pointed ears sticking out from the top of his head. You couldn't see a tail, so it was probably docked into a nub. The hairs at the back of your neck and base of your tail rose, shoulders tensing as you got to the top of the staircase. His sharp eyes met yours, and you knew that's how they found you. Fucking police dogs…

"Give me that!" Your aunt swiped the bag from you, her claw-like nails scratching your hands, making you pull them back. Holding your other hand over the red marks, you glared hard at her when she opened the sack.

"Bread?! You stole bread?!" She hissed, fierce eyes searing holes into your skull.

"Maybe if you didn't fuckin' starve me, I wudduna had ta'!" You hissed back and you flinched as you saw her raise her hand.

"Now, madam, it’s nothing to harm her over. We'll take her to the station." A smooth, deep voice prompted you to open your eyes, seeing the guard dog holding the wrist of your nasty aunt. His grip was loose, so as not to dig his thick claws into your aunt's skin. He should have though… Your aunt took her arm away from him when he let her go and you were more willing to go with him then stay there any longer. Honestly, jail would be a welcome change. You followed the dog down the stairs and your aunt went as well, handing the stolen loaves to the human officer. With a strong hand on your bicep, the police dog led you further down the street, his partner following.

"Did you really steal because she starves you?" The elder officer asked you, his tone gentler than you expected. Your aunt wasn't poor, by any means, but you lived in what was equivalent to a storage room.

"I get a potato every other day if I don't." Your tail flicked nervously, ear flicking when a drop of water hit it. Glancing up at the sky, you sneered at the gathering clouds, feeling another drop land on your face. You wiggled your nose, feeling the drop most likely wash a trail of dirt off your face.

"She doesn't feed you any meat?" The dog furrowed his brow, letting you go, eyes zigzagging over you. It was evident your clothes were somehow too big and too small at the same time, and your boots were old.

"Alley bastards don't deserve meat." You spat out the words you were so used to hearing. It wasn't your fault that your mother slept with a commoner, but your aunt and grandparents took it out on you. The only reason your mother's sister took you in was because she got a tax cut for listing you as living with her.

"How old are you, Miss (Y/N)?" The human officer asked.

"Twenty…somethin'…" You weren't for sure, never celebrated your birthday.

"I think the baker will be willing to forgive if we return the bread. Yeosang?" The officer looked at the dog and you did as well.

"The poverty shelter doesn't take cats, does it? Just dogs?"

"Yessir." The dog, Yeosang, sighed, glancing back to you. The rain seemed to be waiting as well, only a few drops falling as you looked nervously between the two men. What were they going to do with you?

"She could stay with me, if that is alright with her." Yeosang cast you a look, his gaze warm and you blinked in shock. Charity? Wow, you had heard of it before…

"Any where’s better than auntie's…" Your tail was still whipping and the elder officer nodded with a hum.

"Thank you, son. You may get off your shift early. Make sure she gets a good hot meal." The human smiled warmly himself and headed off toward the bakery, bread bag in hand.

"Are ya sure? I'm notta hassle?"

"No, kitten. Let's get you some meat." The hand that had been on your arm went to your upper back so he could pull you to walk next to him, then he led you presumably to his home. Right as you got under the awning over his front door, the rain started to pour.

~*~*~

"Slow down, love. There's plenty." The dog was way gentler with you than you expected. His home was nice and warm, cozy, and smelled good. He had presented you with bread that he had bought the day before, as well as some cured meats, cheese, even some fruit. Not sure where to start, you reached carefully for a slice of summer sausage and then your vision went red, your appetite raring to full force. Yeosang huffed in amusement, able to hear the rapid purr you let out as you ate. When he had removed his uniform coat, he just had on a thin white button up underneath. The shirt did very little to hide the obvious muscle underneath, the buttons struggling to hold still over his chest. As you had started to eat, he rolled the sleeves up to above his elbow, showing toned forearms. He ate more leisurely, and once you were no longer ravenous, you slowed your pace. You took each chance you got to look over him, he was absolutely stunning.

"Yer' from the far east, yah?" You asked around a mouthful of different things you had just shoved in. He hummed with a nod and your eyes flicked to the water ewer he had set on the table and he poured some into a stein. Eagerly taking the drink, you chugged it down, a little bit of the water dripping past your bottom lip. Letting you a groaning exhale after you had gotten everything down, you slumped in your chair. You hadn't felt so full in so long and you weren't expecting to get a nice meal when you stole the bread.

"Are ya' like…a saint or somethin?" You asked, not sure why he would help you.

"Pardon me?"

"You know, like those folks in the Bible that help…saints or whatever…" Your nail clicked against the glass cup you were holding. You weren't very educated, but you tried to retain what little bit of information you had learned.

"Oh, um, no. I think I would just qualify as generous." He smiled bashfully and you let out an 'ah' in realization.

"Thanks for the meal…I um, I don't want to go home but…"

"You don't have to go back there, kitten." The dog smiled, his own pointed ear drooping a bit along with his pitying gaze. Normally that look pissed you off, but you just felt bashful then.

"Do you have somewhere I can go, then?"

"I told you; you can stay here. I have a spare room anyway. It's hard for women to find work, harder yet for a cat hybrid…" He paused to think it seemed.

"I-I can clean! Or, uh…well, I'm good at physical stuff, I can run…places." You weren't sure what else specifically you could do, your only 'skill' was cleaning. Or stealing.

"If you want to help with housekeeping, that's up to you. I am more worried how people might see a man and woman living together outside of marriage." The dog grimaced a bit.

"Oh. Right." You hadn't thought about that… It was one thing for normal everyday people, but he was a public officer.

"What if ya’ hire me? As yer' official housekeep? That wouldn't look suspect, yeah?" You offered.

"That would probably work. For now. Here." He stood up, motioning for you to follow him. You did so, going toward the narrow front entryway and then up the steep stairs to his second floor. There was a room to the left, but he let you into the one on the right, the door right on the landing. It was pretty bare, and to most, small. However, it was way bigger than where you had been before and had a real bed.

"I-I can really stay here?" You felt your throat tighten, stepping further in.

"Of course, love. Tomorrow we can figure out the details, why don't you get some sleep?" You turned back to look at him, that warm and sincere smile still present. Overcome with emotion, you pounced forward, wrapping your arms around his toned middle, cheek to his chest.

"Thank you, Yeosang!" You sniffed, trying not to bawl. He rested his hand on your head, thumb rubbing the back of your ear.

"You're welcome, (Y/N)."

~*~*~

Over the next two months, you lived the best days of your life. Yeosang had commented that his house had never looked so clean, even though it wasn't messy before. After the third day there, and you had thrown up from overeating, you paced yourself more. Finally, you were used to being well fed, and you no longer looked like you were actually starving. The second week you were there, he had taken you to a tailor and bought you two new outfits, ones that actually fit. You preferred the simple shirt and pants, but he also got you a simple dress that was a soft blue. You cried. You had been crying a lot, so touched by how sweet he was being.

One day, you were in the market to buy a few things. No one that you had stolen from in the past knew it was you. Combined with being healthy and clean, you were also in a nice dress and your hair was done.

"(Y/N)!?" The voice made you stop cold, hand still reaching for a squash on the seller's stall table. Your aunt.

"You stupid twat!" She screeched and before you registered where she was, her hand was in your hair, claws scratching your scalp. You yowled, dropping your basket, potatoes and apples rolling away. People gasped, turning to watch the fight, but not stepping in to help.

"I've had to pay more than ever now that you left! I had to pay a bloody fine as well, endangering a ward or something! You little whore! I know you're living with a man not your husband! What would your mother think, you raising your tail for a dog?!" She was screaming, hissing and spitting. You tried to get her to let you go, but not wanting to fight and ruin your dress. You knew the words she was speaking weren't true, but the people around didn't, and you didn't want the negative gossip to get back to Yeosang. When a blowing whistle hit your ears, you mewled in relief, rapid footsteps nearing. The horrible woman was pulled away from you, and you slumped into a pile, holding your head.

"(Y/N), are you okay, love?" Yeosang was quick to your side, looking over your head. A growl was rumbling in his chest as he shot a searing glare at the other woman. You didn't look up to see who the other officers were subduing her, burying your head in Yeosang's chest to hide.

"Oh, kitten." He whined, holding you to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he easily lifted you, carrying you toward home, ignoring the stares and whispers.

As you sat on the table, he dabbed at the scratches with a cloth dipped in alcohol, the disinfectant stinging. You winced again and he apologized, trying to be gentle.

"Did you hear what she said?" you whispered. Your eyes were glossing over the bottle next to you, brain trying to process the letters you saw. Yeosang had been teaching you, but you could only read the big word, 'VODKA'.

"It's not true, so it doesn't matter." he whispered back.

"Maybe…I should leave?" Your voice cracked, really not wanting to follow through with the suggestion. The cloth on your head left and he stepped back, hand on your chin to tilt your head back. He looked over your face, noticing your red blotchy cheeks and glossy eyes.

"Why?"

"Because…what if it comes back and hurts you…?" You sniffed, trying to avoid his eyes. His hand left your chin, but then both went to cup your cheeks.

"(Y/N), kitten, I would be heartbroken if you left." The dog's deep voice was so warm, soft, like his hugs.

"Yeah?" He wiped a tear away from your eye and smiled, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to yours.

"Yes. If you're so worried…" He drifted off, one hand leaving your jaw to take yours.

"What if we get married?" He finished and it was like time stopped. Your ears started to ring and you slowly lifted your head back up to look him in the eye again.

"What?" Your voice was so soft that if he wasn't a dog or another hybrid, he probably wouldn't have heard.

"(Y/N), I know it's only been a couple months, but I've fallen in love with you. I want you to stay with me." He brought your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. You burst into tears then, crying hard, harder than you had before, babbling nonsense.

"I-I-I want to stay too!" You cried and he pulled you into his chest, thumb rubbing the back of your ear.

"Then?"

"I wanna be your wife." You mumbled, sniffing hard so you didn't drip snot on his uniform shirt.

The next few minutes were nearly a blur, your mind finally caught up as your back hit his bed, his lips fervently pressing to yours. His breath was heaving, chest rumbling and his sandalwood and rosewater scent was growing stronger. You felt like he was going to swallow you whole, and you wondered why it was said cats and dogs didn't get along. You had never felt so loved unconditionally and wholly but by Yeosang, a dog, despite that you were a cat. An alley cat at that. In that moment though, you truly saw him as a big, strong working dog, easily surrounding the little stray cat that had been taken into his home. But instead of growling and scaring the little kitty, the big pup had laid down and wrapped around the small cat, protecting and loving her.

"Your tongue's rough." He huffed in amusement, only pulling back a second before his mouth sealed back to yours, tongue wrapping around your smaller one. You whimpered and mewled, head growing hazy from his kisses. Your back arched as his mouth left yours, trailing to your jaw and down to your neck. As he unbuttoned your dress, he licked and sucked over the skin revealed, tugging at the fabric to get it over your breasts so he could shuck it off. The dress floated down to the floor behind him, settling on the floor with a flutter. Once you were down to your undergarments, nothing more than a thin chemise and light set of stays, he sat up to kneel over you. He had luckily taken his uniform jacket off earlier, because in his haste to remove his shirt, two of the buttons flew off, clattering against the wood floor. You had seen him shirtless before, but never had the chance to touch, so you had to take the chance. Yeosang chuckled, his ears drooping a bit in pleasure as your small, warm hands ran over the smooth skin of his chest and stomach. He really was physical perfection. Biting your lip, your hands went to work on his belt and he took the chance to untie your stays. You felt a little more air flow easier threw your lungs as he pulled the garment off and you squeaked as he moved. Quickly, so quickly, he pulled your chemise off as well, leaving you bare, and essentially picked you up and tossed you back up the bed. As you tried to get your bearings, you didn’t notice him resting his stomach on the bed.

“Y-Yeosang!” Your nails dug fast into the sheets as his long tongue lapped a path through your slit. A growl rumbled from him and his hands held your thighs apart so he could slide his tongue into your cunt, the feeling made you twitch and shiver. He was breathing so hard through his nose you felt the puffs of air against your clit, tail flicking against the bed. Something was rising fast in your tummy, and he could feel your gummy walls clench unevenly around his tongue. The dog’s nose bumped your clit once more and you nearly squealed as your orgasm hit. He eagerly drank up the slick that flowed from you, licking his chops as he pulled away once you were done. He smiled down at you, softly, admiring your red face and heaving chest. Before you could really come to reality, he had flipped you onto your stomach. There was some rustling, and you had been too busy trying to register what had just happened, the next thing you knew, his bare body was laying over yours. He didn't rest down too hard, he was bigger and heavier, but you shivered at his skin on yours, hard chest to your back. You shivered as his hard cock nestled in the crook your ass.

"Big as my fuckin' arm…" You huffed to yourself and he chuckled, biting his lip, chest rumbling.

"Think your sweet cunt can take it?" His deep voice right in your ear was in itself orgasmic and your core was rapidly heating. You were pretty sure you hadn't had a heat in so long from being in poor health, and so it seemed your system needed to compensate. Your whole body was rapidly rising in temperature, he could tell from where his skin pressed to yours. The delightful scent of vanilla and lavender you normally exuded was growing stronger, the aroma filling his lungs. You whimpered when his strong arm wrapped under your stomach, lifting your hips into the air as he grinded his cock against your weeping folds. He wasn't normally one for crass language like you, but he was spewing sweet filth as you tried to formulate a thought to respond. The heat was nearly growing painful, and even though he was huge and you inexperienced, you needed him inside.

"Such a pretty pussy, kitten. Bet it's leaking so much to let me in. Take my cock and my knot." He groaned when he ran his thumb up your slit, gathering your slick that was nearly dripping from your core.

"Want me to ruin your cunt, love? Split you open, fuck you silly, then pump you full. I wonder if a kitty can even get pregnant by a dog. Guess we'll find out…" It seemed your heat was sending him into a semi-rut, his mind was full of nothing but sinking into you and fucking you into the mattress. He had honestly wanted to for weeks but had tried to keep the thoughts away.

"Y-Yeosang! Please!" You mewled, nails digging into his pillow, tail flailing back and forth. You yowled when his strong hand grabbed your tail at the base, wrapping some of the length around his fist, tugging on it. He smirked as your cunt let out another glob of slick from the sensation, your rapid purr growing in strength.

"Not just my wife, but my mate. Want your womb to hold my pups." The male chuckled, adjusting to press the fat head of his leaking cock against your core. You shivered, a bit worried he was too big, but you needed him. And his knot.

"Hold on, kitten." He licked his lips to prevent the saliva that had gathered from leaking, holding the base of your tail and hip for leverage. Your breath hitched, cunt spasming as he started to press in. He watched in delight as your folds eagerly stretched and sucked his cock in, even more slick spilling out, leaving a puddle on his bed. The base of his cock had already started to swell a bit, but he wasn't going to knot you so soon. No, he was going to have his way with you for a good long while first.

"Fuck!" You squealed, claws puncturing his bedding, teeth digging into the pillow. His hot cock was searing through you, the burn of the stretch just fueling the fire in your womb further. Tears sprung to your eyes and you gasped for air, intense waves of pleasure crashing over you, sending you to climax before he was even halfway in. Yeosang felt your gummy walls clench and pulse around him, and he threw his head back, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he groaned. The grip on your tail tightened just a bit and you keened at his slow ease, but his restraint was wavering.

"J-just do it, 'Sang~" You mewled, sparks of arousal shooting up your spine from your tail. He didn't hesitate with your consent, and he snapped his hips to bury the last few inches into your hot vice. Your vision spotted as the head of his dick pressed at your womb, hips pressed to your backside. He sat there for a bit, letting you get used to the searing pleasure, grinding down into you every so often. As he heard your breathing even out a bit more, you let out a big shudder and he released your tail, falling forward so his hands caught him on the bed. The dog let out a small whimper, furrowing his brow. A clawed hand went to your sternum and he helped you hold yourself up on your arms so your back was parallel to his chest. His nose ran over your shoulder, right new to your neck and your body tensed in preparation, your cunt tightening even further. With a little lick, his teeth dug into your skin, and he sucked and licked as he bit, sealing you as his mate. Your eyes rolled back into your head, most of your strength leaving you as you came again, spurts of slick drenching his groin and balls. Pulling back from the mark, he licked the blood away and you fell onto your chest, using what little strength you had left to grip the already torn sheets.

"Ready?" He didn't wait for your response, slowly puling his hips back, cock halfway in, then fucked back into you. You yelped, his rapid and hard pace was immediate, no build up, and your brain ended up as fucked as your cunt. You were babbling and mewling, tail thrashing before he gripped it once more, holding your hips still as his battered against your ass. His free hand snaked down to your stomach, and he groaned at the shallow bulge that would form each time he buried to the hilt, your tiny body straining to take him. You bit the pillow again, using it to muffle your scream as he plowed through another one of your orgasms. His thrusts grew shallower, burying deep each time and fucking back in just by an inch, hard and grinding. Your eyes crossed when the base of your core started to burn once more, pussy searing as his knot started to swell. He whimpered between grunts and growls, head thrown back, sweat slick black strands tickling his upper back.

"I'm going to breed you, kitten. Fill you with my seed till you have my pups. Even if it takes all night." He groaned as your cunt fluttered once more and he gave one more hard thrust, letting his knot swell. You gasped and heaved at the feeling; he hadn't even begun to cum yet. When the hot spurts started to fill you, flooding your weeping womb, you nearly passed out. The sticky fluid dowsed the fire that your body had set and his hips jolted with each squirt, pressing as deep as he could. As the waves of his orgasm faded, he let your tail go, falling forward once more, heaving for breath himself. You were breathing heavily, but otherwise quiet and he glanced down to look at your face. You were still conscious, barely, eyes staring blankly at the wall, tears drying on your cheek and drool had left a dark spot under your mouth. Gently, so much so compared to his rough fucking, he pet your hair, pulling a few strands away from your sweaty brow.

"I love you, (Y/N)." He whispered and he noticed your lips quirk gently into a small smile.

"Love you too~"

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[wutheringcaterpillar]

An Assassination of The Heart

Pairing: High School!Jackson Rippner x Reader

Summary: Jackson had always had a rough life after being taken into foster care, having no positive outlook on life until you walked into his life. Only an unforeseen circumstance changes him forever.

Warnings: Established relationship, mentions of blood and murder, heartbreak, mentions of drug abuse, cigarette smoking, very brief mention of smut

I wanted to have a take on Jackson’s life before he became whom we know him to be on Red Eye. I hope you all enjoy this concept as much as I do.

August, Autumn of 1989

Waking up to the sunlight peering peacefully through the blinds, Jackson brushed the beads of sweat from his forehead, glancing toward the alarm clock ringing before pressing down on the button.

“Jackson are you up yet?!” He rolled his eyes from the screeching sound of his foster mother Evie.

“Yeah!” He hated his life. His biological mother had abandoned him on the sheriff department’s door, step father dead before he was even born from overdosing on heroin.

Now here he was in the small town of Harpeland, Georgia, in a house with seven other “siblings”, cramped in a small square room with nothing but a twin size bed and a rickety old dresser. The only plus side was the small window that looked out toward the creek where deer often resided for food and rest.

He had no friends, often staying to himself and failing in school but his needs were often pushed to the side, his achievements ignored, causing him to believe there was no point in trying anymore.

Pulling out his converse from underneath the shitty excuse of a bed, he grabbed his backpack, throwing on his beanie and began walking down the dirty old trail to school.

There was hardly ever anyone around since he liked to get a head start not wanting to deal with his foster siblings annoying him. He rarely ever got peace and quiet, often finding solace in old novels and looking forward to the time he had study hall but his schedule was quite different this year. With failing so many classes he had to double up, which he didn’t really care about. He was a smart individual, always acing his tests but never turning in homework or showing up and participating in side projects.

Walking up to the school, other students shouted their jokes at him for his last name being Rippner. He never payed attention to them, their words never bothering him.

As the bell tolled, he walked into the classroom late.

“Mr Rippner, the rules haven’t changed, you’re expected to be in your seat at 7:15 am.” He ignored her protests silently, and took an empty seat near the back wall, getting ready to put his head down until he noticed the principal walk in with a girl he didn’t recognize.

The teacher huffed at the interruption as the man whispered something in her ear and she nodded in response.

“Class we have a new student, this is Y/N L/N. She’s coming here from Ohio, give her a warm welcome and-“ Jackson faded her voice out, breath hitching in his throat when he layed eyes on you.

His crystal blue eyes transfixed on your immense beauty, he couldn’t help but think you were kind of cute with your backpack hanging off one shoulder carelessly, arms wrapped around your torso nervously.

Butterflies fluttered in his stomach when you approached him, pointing to the desk in front of him.

“Is this seat taken?” 

“Ugh-no, no. All yours.” He smiled brightly, your cheeks blushing a rosy shade of pink from the strange boy’s smile as you thanked him and sat down.

Jackson couldn’t stop himself from staring at the back of your head in disbelief, his hormones running wild. He had never felt like this before and was convinced there wasn’t a girl out there for him but now, maybe that wasn’t the case.

“Shit..” Your pencils fell down onto the floor, the students around you giggling and chuckling at the incident while Jackson was quick to bend down and help you retrieve the yellow wooden utensils.

“Oh, thank you. You didn’t have to-“

“I know, but I wanted to.” The class carried on but his mind couldn’t escape the intrusive thoughts, thinking what it would feel like to have his fingers interlaced between yours, stargazing with you, knowing your hobbies, exchanging books. 

Time passed slowly, watching the clock tick by with each excruciating passing second. 

When the bell finally rang you gathered your book, stretching and standing from your seat but when you were in the midst of walking out to your next class a hand brushed against your arm gently, that swoonful voice.

“Hey! Um, let me walk you to your next class?” You nodded kindly, biting down on your plump bottom lip trying to simmer the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He was cute, ridiculously cute and the only person who’s reached out and been kind to you, who would you have been to deny the boy a simple walk to class?

Jackson shared many classes with you, and always offering to carry some of the heavier textbooks out of the kindness of his heart.

The last period of the day seemed to be the only one you hadn’t shared and it completely dragged on considering it was algebra, the worst subject to ever exist.

When the bell rang at the end of the day, you packed up your belongings and headed to your locker only when you opened it a note fell out. The writing was particularly neat, and the grammar and punctuation nearly perfected.

Scanning the words, you read the mysterious letter.

“Meet me at the at the dock down the hill by the creek. You seem like a smart girl, I know you’ve done your research as you said. I’d love to have the chance to get to know you better. I want to know your interests, hobbies, everything. I look forward to seeing that beautiful smile tonight.”

Jackson

Your cheeks heated a rosey blush painting your skin as your stomach fluttered with butterflies. Maybe this school wasn’t so bad after all.

~

Arriving home, Evie noticed a spark in Jackson. He didn’t walk through the door brooding or tired, he didn’t throw his backpack onto the sofa like he normally does. More importantly he actually sat down in the chair at the kitchen table while she continued to rinse off vegetables for dinner, the soft sound of the antenna radio playing in the background while his siblings were outside playing in the summer heat.

Jackson tapped his foot nervously, hid mind still revolving around you and he wanted to hold it in, but for some reason he couldn’t.

“I met a girl at school today.” Evie’s eyebrows perked up in interest while tossing the roast in the oven snd the vegetables in a pot on the stove before removing her apron and taking a seat across from her son.

“Oh yeah? What’s her name? Given it’s a small town I assume she’s new, am I right?” Jackson nodded adoringly.

“Her name’s Y/N, and she is breathtaking. I’ve never seen a girl as pretty as her before. I um-“ Jackson itched at the back of his neck nervously.

“I asked her out tonight by slipping her a letter in her locker. I think she likes me to, I hope at least.” His mother settled her hand atop of his motherly, expressing how overjoyed she was for him. 

“That’s great honey! Remember what I always say, you’ll know when you know. You did the right thing by trusting your gut, the smart kid you are.” She ruffled his hair and excused herself to check in on her other children outside by the sandbox and tire swing. 

Mentioning that dinner was almost done, she sent everyone to go wash their hands and mentioned that Jackson had first dibs on the shower tonight, winking his way happily. For the first time in a long time Jackson sat at the dinner table, tossing jokes back and forth with his siblings enjoying the meal Evie had prepared.

Washing up and showering Jackson slipped on a jacket and jeans, tying his converse while heading out in the starry night sky toward the dock.

Evie couldn’t stop the acute smile painting her face as she watched her son chase out the door after a girl. He was always a difficult book to read and if it just so happened there was a girl that was able to decipher the writing inside his mind she wasn’t going to complain.

Opening the window, she shouted out through the screen.

“Don’t forget curfew is at 10!” Jackson waved at her, and turned down his path.

Upon arriving to the wooden dock, crawdads sang melodically throughout the atmosphere, crickets singing harmoniously in rhythm with the critters. This always held a special place to him, where he would go to clear his thoughts and just get away from the noise and clutter of his house. He had never brought anyone here, it was his only little peaceful sanctuary.

Sitting down, he placed his backpack beside him and checked his watch, it was only five pm but his heart pattered in anxiousness to see you and if you’d show.

He passed the time by pulling out his notebook, creating a portrait from memory of this morning when you walked into the class room. Reminiscing the way your hair flowed effortlessly over your shoulder, the blue jeans and black sweater draped over your body. He had always been a talented artist but like the dock, they were his creations that he didn’t wish to share with the world.

As he was etching out your figure, he thought he heard a tumbling in the grass, his head whipping around in curiosity only to be met with nothing and carrying on with his drawing.

That was when your hands curled in on his sides, spooking him but his frightened frown and girlish scream ended abruptly, a sincere grin forming when he saw it was you.

“Didn’t think I’d show did you?” You challenged him, taking a seat beside him and flinging off your flip flops into the grass, dipping your feet into the chilly water.

Jackson was quick to close his notebook, embarrassed and not wanting to you to see his drawing in fear of creeping you out.

“So, you said you wanted to get to know me. Ask away, also I brought snacks.” You shook a baggy filled with chocolate covered pretzels, sprinkled with your love.

Jackson took one willingly out of the baggie, slipping his shoes off and dipping his feet in next to yours. The sudden skin to skin contact causing bursts of electricity to pulsate through your body.

Looking down shyly, Jackson did the same but hadn’t moved his ankle away.

“Alright. So what’s your story? Any siblings, what do you like to do for fun? Any stories I should know about?” He chuckled slightly, his blue eyes shining subtly in the moonlight as he explained the complicated living situation he had been involved in his whole life. He normally would have felt uncomfortable talking about the reality of what his biological parents were like but you didn't seem very judgemental, if anything listening with open ears and an open mind. Although you felt sorry for him with the nearly non existent memories he had of his parents, there was a pang of jealousy when you'd learn he had siblings, and just that his mother was genuinely concerned about him. You would have killed for that.

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to have siblings. It gets quite lonely at times and I find myself falling asleep reading a book on the floor of my room. My parents constantly fight, hardly pay any attention to me. I could be dead, floating down the river right now and I still don’t think they’d notice.” Maybe Jackson hadn’t realized how good he had it compared to others. His face softened at the sad story, lapping his bottom lip in thought of what he could say to turn that inquisitive frown upside down.

"Well, for what its' worth you're more than welcome to come steal one of mine, though I must inform you if you are used to privacy, you will learn real fast it's nearly non existent with siblings." And there it was, that delicate, alluring laugh that left him hypnotized by your beauty.

Time passed slowly, but the conversation never staggered. You talked about the past, present, and the future. Fears, school. The basics, but he didn't want to mention about his interest in art, not yet, at least until the portrait was done. He didn't want to scare you off too early.

A week passed like the speed of sound, every night you ended back down at the dock.

Jackson had spent his nights after leaving you perfecting the portrait he was drawing of you sitting in a meadow, a small stray cat sitting beside you while birds and deer perforated the background at sunset.

When he would rest his head to sleep he found it difficult due to his mind running wild with the vision of you and him together forever. The way your eyes shined in the sunlight, how you smiled widely every time you saw him, and the way your voice sometimes staggered when you were nervous, he had never heard a laugh that sounded so heavenly and perfect, everything about you was perfect to him. He was falling fast, and it didn't scare him.

The following day he had to run to the post office for Evie whom was sending a package to his grandmother for her 80th birthday. In the process of walking back home, as he passed stores, he stepped backwards when a bracelet caught his eye.

It was a simple white band with different types of flowers decorating the width and he couldn't stop himself from going inside and purchasing the personal gift for you, knowing that you'd love it.

When he arrived home, he rushed to his mother, wanting to show her what he had bought for you in excitement and anticipation of her approval.

"Jackson, it's beautiful! She'll love it!" He smiled brightly, not being able to contain the clear blush heating his cheeks. Evie took him into the dining room to find a gift bag and some tissue paper, her heart warming that her son was finally opening up to her more and more every day now that you had entered his life. She just hoped that it would last for the sake of her son.

At the normal time, he had met you down at the dock, gift bag in hand. You had loved surprises and dropped your bag in the grass as he passed you the bag.

"Jackson what is this?" He shrugged, smirking confidently.

"I saw something I thought you'd like, so I bought it." Pursing your lips, you untied the bag, tossing the tissue paper out onto the ground to reveal the simplistic accessory. Your stomach fluttered with butterflies much like the first day you met him. No one had ever bought you anything just because, but maybe that was because your parents were too busy trying to buy out each other on business deals to care too.

"Jackson, you didn't have to do this for me..." Your voice was low, tone settling in disbelief. He reached for the bracelet pushing it onto your wrist gently.

"Don't say I never gave you anything." Wrapping your arms around, you rested your head on his shoulder, hands caressing his back while you listened to his pulse thumping rapidly.

When you pulled away, you pecked him on the cheek before taking your usual spots next to each other on the wooden surface.

“You smoke?” You shook your head shyly, never having really tried. 

“Do you want to? You don’t have to. It helps calm my nerves.” Motioning with your head, he pulled the tobacco tube from the containment of a hidden compartment in his backpack.

He handed you the lighter, giving you the honors of alighting the unlit tip.

You watched the butt glow orange, the smoke diminishing into the summer air as he puffed from the tube, his plump wraps securely around the white object.

Passing you the cigarette, you took it nervously, Jackson showing you the best way to hold it between your fingers.

“Now when you put it between your lips, you’re going to breathe in gently. You’ll feel the smoke clouding your lungs. You’ll then release and expel the remnants, got it?” Nodding nervously, Jackson watched intently as you inhaled.

You didn’t get very far, the discomfort in your chest causing you to cough and choke on the smoke, passing Jackson the cigarette back causing his insatiable laugh to reveal itself for the first time. He began patting your back, hand rubbing soothing circles into the delicate skin.

“Okay, okay. Fair is fair. What do you think about roller blading? It was all I really did where I’m from. Never really had friends and found a thrill feeling the wind blowing through my hair. It’s actually quite fun and I researched some trails in the area and checked them out before starting school. Wanna give it a go?” Jackson shook his head checking his watch realizing he was already late back home. 

“I can’t, my mom will have my ass if I’m not on my way back. I’m not going to make you walk home alone though, where do you live?” You giggled slightly in astonishment that his parents cared enough to give him a curfew, something you weren’t used to.

Nodding forth, he picked up his belongings following after you. 

To his own surprise, you didn't live far, quite the opposite. Your family had just moved into a new home next door deep in the woods. He hadn't even known they were doing construction but the more you know. Now he knows how you found the dock so easily.

The following afternoon, he had met you down the road near the roller rentals business that had just opened. Jackson was slightly unsettled that the bearded, partially overweight man running it he didn't recognize. It was a small town, everyone knew everyone but he shook off the uneasy feeling when your arms wrapped around him from behind. After all people moved all the time.

"Boo! Did I scare you?" He chuckled awkwardly, not wanting to admit that you did in fact startle him.

Having never done this, he followed your lead.

"Two pairs please!" After telling him your sizes, the man disposed his cigarette in a plastic container sitting on the edge of the stall.

The man's hand brushed over yours to exchange the cash but you didn't think much of it as things like this happen all the time, surely it was an accident. This went unnoticed by Jackson as he was looking out at how empty the park was for a sunny saturday afternoon. The only thing that caught his sight was a bird taking a bath near a bush. He knew your love for animals and grabbed your attention. Handing him the blades you gasped in awe at the adorable scene, before bending over in front of the stall to put your own on.

"You ready?" The guy behind you grunted as if he were waiting a tip but you didn't bring your wallet and Jackson had no more cash on him. Honestly he thought it was quite rude of him to do so. Nodding forth, you skated side by side down the empty streets, wind blowing freely through your hair as the sun shined down in it's ball of heat, warming your skin. Jackson had fallen quite a few times, his cheeks turning red embarrassment but you thought it was quite cute. With each incident he seemed to be more determined to not mess up, wanting to impress you that he was a quick learner and able to skate even while smoking a cigarette.

For once in his life he felt care free with you by his side, once he finally got into a steady stride. You screamed and laughed together like you were in complete control of the world, not a worry in your heads. He didn't think he'd enjoy this as much as he did.

Stopping to get ice cream, you shared a cone like lovers do, giving him the cherry while you showed him the skill of how you could tie the stem into a knot within seconds. He believed you to be quite impressive, and just an easy, kindhearted person. Who couldn't love you?

After making a few stops at a book store, and some antique outlets, Jackson skated home with you, kissing you goodnight on the cheek, skating home with a smile that never left his face but he felt like someone was watching not only him but both of you. When he'd look back no one would be there, maybe he was just being paranoid.

The following night the crickets chirped throughout the breezy atmosphere, water rippling calmly in the pond as you layed on the wooden dock star gazing.

“I promise, I’ll always be around.” Jackson smiled softly, crystal eyes shining under the moonlight. Involuntarily, your hands inched toward one another, intertwining your fingers together and latching in a display of affection. You giggled from the touch, staring at the size difference of his hand on yours. After a few moments of star gazing, Jackson caught your stare in him, biting down on your bottom lip playfully. He watched you quizzically but with an endearing smile on his face.

“What?” Before he had time to think you leaned in, not being able to resist the urge to kiss him any longer. In an alluring motion, your lips captured his, causing Jackson’s breath to hitch in his throat and his eyebrows raising in surprise.

Your lips were chaste, soft, the taste of the strawberry lip gloss insatiable. His hand grazed over the softness of your cheek, heart thumping rapidly in his chest while he deepened the kiss, his lips slowly curling into a smile as he dipped his tongue playfully onto yours.

The night sky settled as you slowly grazed your hand up the nape of his warm neck.

Falling back into the dampened grass, the atmosphere seemed to come to a still. Adrenaline and hormones rushing through your veins in a wave of disparity and lust as your lips curled in unison, hands skimming one anothers' bodies slowly scratching at each other’s clothes.

“Are you sure? I-I don’t want you to feel pressured, and-“ You shushed his concerns by pulling him back  down, hips grinding upward to feel his hardened mound, giving him all the reassurance he needed to pollen your untouched rose.

The night had passed slowly, the sun starting to peer up as you awoke in his arms, checking the time on your watch.

“Shit. Wake up we’re going to be late!” Jackson groaned from his deep slumber, goosebumps on his skin from the chilly evening, wiping off an ant from his arm in the process.

Shoveling around, he began to panic when he saw the sun knowing full well his mother would have a field day with him once he returned home.

“Fuck, I-I don’t mean to run off but my mom will kill me. It’s better if I just go home and let her know I’m alright then to even bother going to school. Will you be okay walking alone?” Giving him a reassuring smile, your hand caressed his soft cheek, calming him down merely instantly.

“I’ll be alright. I wish I had parents that cared as much as yours. Go home I’ll catch up with you later, I’m sure your mom will understand. You worry too much y’know?” He chuckled kindheartedly, his hand inching toward yours and thanking you for being understanding and just having a calming demeanor. Leaning in you placed a kiss to his lips, reminiscing back to the memory of last night, falling asleep in his arms after making passionate love. He was the boy you had been waiting for all along.

As he left you shouted after him. 

“Oh and Jackson, I don’t regret last night, I um- I’m really happy it happened.” He smiled sweetly, rushing back to give you a passionate kiss before agreeing he hadn’t regretted it either and he would see you soon.

Evie paced the kitchen, hands trembling as she bit her nails nervously waiting for the clock to strike 8 am so she could call the school. The police were of no help, informing her that a missing persons report could not be created until it was at least 48 hours past when she had last seen or heard from him.

Marcie, Jackson’s older sister consoled their mother, reminding her of the fact Jackson was a teenager, surely he was alright and just forgot to call.

“Bye, love you.” Your voice was like soothing music to his ears and for a moment, he didn’t think you realized what you said. Those two words, seven letters, making his heart patter quickly, stomach fluttering with butterflies while he smiled to himself watching you walk off through the meadow back home, not giving him a chance to say it back but one thing he was sure of was that he was falling fast at the speed of love, knowing in his gut from that moment forward he would do anything to protect you.

When Jackson arrived home, his mother slammed the door closed behind him in fury and anger.

"Where have you been?! I've been worried sick about you, for all I know you could've been dead in a ditch, you know the rules!" Jackson began to apologize right away, explaining that he had fallen asleep at a friend's house but she knew better than that. In his flustered state, he attempted to speak further but Evie wasn't having any of it.

"You are grounded for a week. I expect you home right after school." When Jackson tried to argue, she cut him off.

"It's not up for discussion son. Now go to your room." Scoffing, he threw his hands up in defeat, walking in a fast pace toward his room slamming the door shut in irritation. What was he to do not having alone time with you, especially after last night.

He needed to be near you, to talk with you. It was only your touch, your voice that could calm him down, keep him sane from this fucking house. He wrote a letter, asking his mother if she could at least walk it over to your house and give to your parents. He didn't want you to think that last night was a mistake or that you weren't good enough.

After much debate, Evie gave in knowing how much you had helped Jackson come out of his shell and settle his disruptive emotions. She had explained to your parents it was for only a week but they acted as if they didn't even know you were dating Jackson. When she peered in through the door way, papers were scattered across the table, expensive decor hanging on the walls. She hadn't known that they were that financially set.

When the moonlight bore and the ruckus settled in the house, Jackson quietly inched his door open, seeing that all the lights were off and not a person in sight.

Walking back to his room and closing the door, he snuck out through the window, walking over to your house and seeing a singular light on. Maybe that was your room, maybe you found it hard to sleep as well. Glancing down at the driveway, he picked up a few pebbles before going to throw them at your window, praying he had the right one.

The sound reeled you away from the book you were indulged in, your heart pounding in your chest when you raised the window to see Jackson standing outside in the midsommer night.

"Jackson, what're you doing?"

"I had to see you, can you come down?" Nodding, and telling him to wait a moment. You wrapped a robe around you, tumbling down the stairs and rushing outside, jumping up into his arms while he caught you effortlessly. He was everything you wanted, everything you needed. You nuzzled your head into the warmth of his neck, breathing in the freshly shower scent of his sea breeze body wash while he held you, basking in the moment of solitude with one another, nothing but the sounds of the awakened night animals cooing softly in the background.

"Your bracelet, you still have it on." He smiled in adoration, his voice like a velvet day dream.

"And I'm never taking it off for a single second." He didn't have long, knowing Evie would often wake up through out the night.

"I have one more surprise for you that I'm always done with. I've been working on it since the day we met but I want to wait until I'm off from being grounded and then I'm going to make sweet love to my baby girl." You giggle, pressing your lips to his before bidding him goodnight. He waited to ensure you were back in your house before heading back over to his.

The following morning Jackson arrived at school, he walked to class worried that he hadn't seen you at all but tried to convince himself that perhaps you had fallen ill. It wasn't too far fetched that there was a bug going around school. He sat anxiously, finishing up the final touches of his portrait for you, hoping it would help time pass. Around 12:00 pm, there was a phone call made to the school and Jackson was pulled from class. Only it wasn't his mother who made the call, bu they must have received some kind of verification for him to be pulled. Furrowing his brows, he gathered his books, walking back home.

The school hadn't told him much but the teacher and other supervisors watched him with sorrowful eyes, looks of pity. Jackson was confused as to what was going on but he just lived down the road so he'd have an answer soon.

When he approached his house, Evie was on the porch sitting on the swing with a reddened face, tears streaming effortlessly down her cheeks while she blew her nose. This was unlike his mother, she normally didn't cry, and why were there police cars in the driveway? His first thought was something happened to one of his siblings.

“What’s going on?” Evie cried with a whole heart for her foster son, she had never seen him so happy, the light at the end of the tunnel seeming visible until now. This would surely wreck any and all progress Jackson has made. She wasn't prepared to tell him but what choice did she have?

“Honey maybe you should sit." He nodded awkwardly, gulping back an anxious lump before taking a seat next to her. She didn't really know where to begin or how to rip the band-aid off. How could she explain a situation she didn't truly understand herself?

She stood from her seat sighing and glancing out the window knowing that if she didn't speak now, he was going to find out for himself. She owed him the explanation. Softening her tone, she turned to her son with apologetic eyes with a look of motherly endearment and sorrow.

“It's Y/N. They found her body in a river this morning behind the tracks, Jackson honey I’m so sorry.” In that moment time seemed to stop. Jackson was frozen in his seat, lips partially agape. When Evie took a hesitant step forward to attempt to console her son with open arms, Jackson merely shoved her away the tears springing freely as he ran out the door.

Sprinting all the way to your house, he saw the police cars in the driveway, your pup whimpering with sadness next to your father’s leg. When the ambulance carried out your body on a stretcher, covered with a white sheet the reality crept in harshly, all too sudden.

“Jackson!” His mother yelled after him trying to get him to come back inside but her voice was merely a whisper, his eyes fixated on the bloody sheet covering his first and only love’s body. 

He stumbled and ran to the ambulance, tears springing freely. Ripping the sheet off of your head freely, he was met with the cold, hard reality of the situation. Your skin was pale, lifeless, blood stains on your cheeks and in your beautiful hair. It had looked like your face had been beaten in with a weapon. He wasn't sure if he wanted to vomit, to keep crying, or kill someone.

The ambulance workers pulled him away against his will, recovering your body and closing the ambulance doors. Jackson fell to his knees, your mothers touch on his shoulder startling him.

"I-I just saw her last night. I-I didn't even get to say goodbye...I never got to say it back."

He searched every trail you walked, every pond, every dock, every diner but there was nothing. Not a single clue. Strangers passed by him hastily, rushing to get their morning coffee, none of them appearing familiar. 

He was desperate, he was tumultuously sad and depressed, but the anger outweighed any other emotion.

After a long day of searching and investigating, he returned home to his bed, ignoring his mother and siblings wanting nothing more than to just be left alone. No one understood his pain, no one could understand the profound connection he shared with you. Most importantly no one would ever be able to surmount the palpable, tentative, fragile love you held for one another.

Toward the end of the long, dreary, tiresome day Jackson found himself walking toward the dock where you shared probably one of the most intimate forms of love, the moment that you made love with one another.

Sitting down on the ground, the rain continued to pour down relentlessly, lightning shocking the sky and rendering the animals into a safe space for the night. His feet swished in the water, staring down at the ripple effect when he noticed the bracelet he had bought for you laying in a mud puddle in the dampened grass.

He didn’t hesitate for a second, reaching for the only thing he had left of you. He examined the beaded accessory in his hands, squeezing it, causing him to cry more. How did this get here?

“What am I supposed to do!” He screamed at the sky, feeling completely hopeless, knowing someone had done this to you and he hadn't had a clue. If it was here, that meant someone had eyes on you, but who?

Looking through the photo album, he skimmed as his tears painted the pages until he realized there was a common, terrifying theme that neither of you had caught in the photos.

The man from the rollerblading rentals was somehow in every photo lurking in the background menacingly. How had he not noticed? Perhaps he was too blinded by living a happy life with his first love to notice anyone but him and you together.

Shutting the album he ran to the phone book pulling the hefty book from a side table drawer near the landline in the living room. 

Flipping to the back where local advertisers were listed in hopes of figuring out the man’s name. With his thumb he traced down each page, ready to give up until he reached the last one.

Derek Lauer was his name, listed along with a business and personal number. Finally one step forward into finding out who this man was that took his innocent little birdie away.

The following morning Jackson had set an alarm, wanting to be at the clerks office as soon as they opened hoping to find an address.

When he retrieved what he wanted after some convincing to the older woman sat at the desk who clearly hated her job and life. The odd thing was the address was nearly three hours away.

Formulating a plan, he waited until Evie and his siblings were asleep, taking the car keys and heading out to the road. His knuckles were turning white from how tight his hands were wrapped around the wheel. Jaw clenched, in anger and fury, his heart rate increasing with each passing moment.

When he pulled up to the driveway, the house contained a sold sign, the date being just yesterday. This didn't make any sense. He knew he wrote it down right, glancing down at the paper again, he was about to look back up when a man's voice echoed through the night.

"Jackson, right?" He whipped his head around, recognizing the man to indeed be the one from the roller blading rental. It took everything in him to think rationally and not pounce at the man and rip his toxic, sick, twisted brain out.

“I know it was you. You sick fuck, what did you do to her.”

“Oh you don’t want to know, a pretty young thing like that. I think your imagination will suffice.” Jackson’s blood boiled inside, heart pounding with anger. He was ready to jump at the man, wanting to strangle him and torture him slowly for what he did to you but the cops around the corner staring at the scene made him stop. He wouldn't be any use to you locked up in prison for killing a murderer he couldn't prove to be guilty.

With technology not being too advanced at the time, Jackson had no actual proof, DNA identification was just beginning and it wasn't rare for the wrong person to be convicted. It's not like he could go to the police station and just say this guy confessed when he had no idea where he was going. How did he know his name?

"You should really watch over your girlfriend more, never know what kind of demented people roam the streets, do ya?"

What was his motive for taking you to the dock? How long after Jackson left you did he break into your home and abduct you? There were still missing pieces Jackson had to fill in but he would get his revenge one way or another, even if he had to do it himself. The law, the police, the courts they were always corrupt, never fully doing their job. No, the only way Jackson was going to get his revenge was to leave home, and start a life of his own. Surely an 18 year old was better at researching the some old sick fuck. People always doubted Jackson's thinking and learning skills, well he was about to prove them all wrong with his first target.

The man got in his car with his final box, making the rookie mistake of having a clear plate on his car. Jackson wanted him to think he wasn't going to follow him and stayed stood there in the rain until the cop cars left. He'd figure out a way to dump Evie's car somewhere once he finds a new, safer ride.

He clutched the portrait and bracelet he kept in his jeans, taking off in a fit or rage but remaining calm to keep his thinking clear, and tactical.

From that day forward Jackson vowed to obtain his revenge by taking these rich, scumbag assholes off the streets for good. They never had to pay any time, always sweeping things under the rug, cops covering for them. No, no that just wouldn’t do. If they thought for even a second they had the upper hand they were sadly mistaken. Jackson would forever be a frigid, moral-less man after losing his one true love, unable to love another woman ever again.

[princesskenny1998]

South Park | Kenny McCormick x afab!goth!reader ~ Remembering

You sit at the edge of your bed, staring at the empty space where Kenny used to lie next to you. The room feels colder today, the weight of silence pressing down on you like an anchor. The faint light of dawn barely touches the gothic posters on your walls, the muted colors blending into the shadows. Normally, this was the time you’d be sending Kenny some sarcastic text about how much you hated mornings, or maybe he’d already be here, sneaking in through your window like he always did. But not today. Today, he’s gone.

You shut your eyes tight, as if that could somehow erase the memory of yesterday—Kenny, smiling, his usual carefree self, right before it happened. The screech of the truck’s brakes, the horrible sound of metal against flesh. The blood. So much blood. It’s a sight you’ll never be able to forget, no matter how hard you try.

Your phone buzzes on your nightstand, jarring you from the spiraling thoughts. It’s a text from one of your friends:

“Hey, heading to school. You in?”

You stare at the message for a long time. School. How are you supposed to go to school today? How can life just… continue after what happened?

With trembling hands, you type out a response.

“Not coming. Kenny’s gone.”

You hit send and drop the phone back onto the nightstand, pulling your knees to your chest. The tears come again, hot and fast, burning tracks down your cheeks. You hadn’t cried this much in years. Being goth meant you weren’t supposed to care about much—or at least that’s what everyone thought. But Kenny… Kenny was different. He saw through the tough exterior, the black clothes, the sharp eyeliner. He made you laugh when you didn’t want to, made you feel alive when all you wanted was to disappear into the shadows. And now, he was gone, taken by something as random and meaningless as a traffic accident.

Your phone buzzes again. Another message. You wipe your eyes roughly and glance at it.

“What are you talking about?”

Your stomach twists. How could they not know? Didn’t the whole town see what happened? It was right in front of the school, for crying out loud. You quickly type a response.

“Kenny. He’s dead. Yesterday. The truck.”

This time, the reply is immediate.

“Are you feeling okay? Kenny’s fine. I literally just saw him.”

You freeze. A cold chill crawls up your spine. What the hell? You shake your head, refusing to believe it. Maybe they didn’t see what happened, or maybe they just didn’t want to believe it yet. Denial is the first stage of grief, right?

You glance at the clock. 7:45 AM. School starts in fifteen minutes, but there’s no way you’re going today. You can’t face the halls, the teachers, the awkward conversations where people don’t know what to say to the girl whose boyfriend just died.

But the more you think about it, the more unsettled you become. Why don’t they remember? Could it be some sort of sick joke? You get dressed slowly, throwing on your usual black attire, the only armor you have left against a world that feels like it’s falling apart. You leave the house without saying a word to anyone and make your way toward school, walking quickly despite the leaden feeling in your limbs.

The schoolyard looks normal, too normal, when you arrive. Students are hanging out by the lockers, chatting like it’s just another day. Your eyes scan the crowd, half-expecting to see someone else crying, someone else mourning. But there’s nothing. It’s as if yesterday never happened.

You head inside, feeling disoriented. Your friends are gathered near your locker, talking and laughing. You approach them cautiously, your heart pounding.

“Hey,” you say, your voice tight, “are you seriously telling me none of you remember what happened yesterday?”

They turn to you, puzzled.

“What are you talking about?” one of them asks, tilting her head. “What happened?”

Your stomach flips. This can’t be real.

“Kenny,” you say, your voice trembling now. “Kenny got hit by a truck right outside. He… he didn’t make it.”

There’s a pause, then awkward laughter.

“What? Kenny’s not dead,” one of your friends says, rolling her eyes. “I literally just saw him a few minutes ago.”

You feel like the floor is shifting beneath you. “What are you talking about?” you demand, your voice rising. “I saw him die! I was there!”

They exchange uneasy glances, clearly uncomfortable. One of your friends reaches out to touch your arm, as if you’re fragile, like you might break at any second. “Maybe you should go home, okay? Get some rest. You’re not making any sense.”

You yank your arm away, stumbling back from them, feeling dizzy. They don’t remember. No one remembers.

And then, like a nightmare made real, you see him.

Kenny.

He’s walking down the hallway, casually weaving through the crowd like he always does, his familiar orange hoodie unzipped just enough to reveal his worn-out t-shirt underneath. His messy blonde hair falls over his eyes, and he’s got that usual crooked grin on his face.

You freeze, your breath catching in your throat. No. This isn’t possible.

“Kenny?” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the noise of the hallway.

He looks up, and when his eyes land on you, his face lights up. “Hey!” he calls out, making his way toward you with that easy, lopsided smile you know so well. “What’s up?”

The world around you tilts, your knees nearly giving out beneath you. You stumble back, pressing a hand against the cold metal lockers to steady yourself.

Kenny stops in front of you, his grin fading as he takes in your wide, tear-filled eyes and the way you’re trembling. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice soft with concern. “You okay?”

You can’t find the words. Your vision blurs as tears spill over, and your whole body starts to shake. “You… you’re dead,” you manage to choke out. “I saw you… the truck… you…”

Kenny’s face softens, and then, something else flashes in his eyes—recognition, realization. His mouth opens slightly, and he takes a step closer. “You remember,” he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper.

You just stare at him, the tears streaming down your face. “How are you here?” you sob, your knees buckling beneath you. “You were dead. I watched you die.”

Before you can collapse, Kenny’s arms are around you, pulling you close, holding you up. “Shh,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice shaky but filled with a strange mixture of relief and disbelief. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

You bury your face in his chest, clutching his hoodie as if he might disappear again at any second. “This can’t be real,” you whisper, the sobs racking your body. “How can you be here? How can you be alive?”

Kenny’s hands gently rub your back, soothing you. “It’s… complicated,” he says quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “But I’m here, okay? I’m here.”

You pull back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. His face is right there, inches from yours—his blue eyes, his messy hair, the little scar on his cheek that you’ve traced with your fingers so many times before. He’s real. He’s alive. But how?

“I don’t understand,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Everyone else… no one remembers. But I saw you. I remember. How is this possible?”

Kenny’s eyes search your face, and for a moment, you see something in his expression—a flicker of sadness, of something deeper. Then, slowly, a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “I don’t know why you remember,” he admits, his voice soft. “But… I’m so glad you do.”

You blink up at him, trying to wrap your head around it all. “What do you mean?”

Kenny swallows, his grip tightening on you slightly, as if he’s afraid to let go. “This happens to me,” he says quietly, his voice tinged with a strange mixture of resignation and relief. “I… I die. A lot. And then I come back. No one ever remembers. It’s like it never happened.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. “You… you die and come back? How?”

Kenny shrugs, his smile faltering. “I don’t know. It’s been happening for as long as I can remember. But the thing is… no one ever remembers. Not my friends, not my family. No one.” His voice softens, and he looks at you with something almost like awe. “But you… you do. You remember.”

You stare at him, your mind racing. It’s impossible. And yet, here he is, standing in front of you. Alive. Real.

“How?” you whisper again, though you’re not sure you even expect an answer anymore.

“I don’t know,” Kenny says softly, his thumb gently wiping a tear from your cheek. “But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m here now. And you’re the first person who’s ever remembered. You don’t know what that means to me.”

You can’t stop the tears from falling again, your body still trembling with the weight of it all. But this time, Kenny’s arms are strong around you, holding you close, grounding you in this impossible reality.

“I’m here,” he whispers again, his voice soft but certain. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

And for now, that’s all you need.

[steddiealltheway]

(IMPORTANT NOTE: this was supposed to be ABSOLUTE CRACK for Ruth’s birthday ((happy birthday @kurtkankle)) but this Heartstopper x Steddie Stranger Things crossover turned out to be surprisingly wholesome at the end. SO if you want to completely ignore the crack, replace Dart with Mews and… maybe it’s better. And Ruth… you’re the only person who could get me to post this instead of keeping it in my drafts.)

Charlie goes to Nick’s house, thinking only of his strong rugby arms. Instead, he’s greeted at the door by a pet that isn’t Nellie.

“Nick. What the fuck is this?” Charlie asks, bewildered at the creature weaving it’s way through nick’s legs.

Nick smiles and picks the creature up. “This is my cousin’s pet, Dart. I’m taking care of him for the next week.”

As if the creature knows that Nick is talking about him, it unhinges its multiple jaws and screeches.

Charlie stares at it for a few moments before deciding that maybe he can go without Nick for the next week. But then he sees someone come into view over Nick’s shoulder.

“I’m Steve,” the hottest American man Charlie has ever seen says, sticking his hand out toward him.

“H-hi,” Charlie responds taking his hand back and shaking it.

“I hear you’re Nick’s closest rugby lad,” Steve says with a big, clueless smile.

Charlie laughs nervously. “Yep, that’s who I am.”

Nick stares at him awkwardly and invites him inside. Charlie takes one glance at Dart and hopes he doesn’t bite his face off. Luckily, he keeps to himself and follows Steve into the living room as Charlie and Nick got to Nick’s room.

They “study” for about an hour before the door slowly creaks open, and in comes Dart excitedly. But then Steve follows him quickly, bashfully looking up at Nick and Charlie who haven’t had time to untangle themselves from each other.

Steve looks between the two and smiles softly. “You two remind me of me and my good friend Eddie.”

Charlie and Nick glance at each other and silently debate asking Steve more. Nick is the first to speak up, “Steve, are you and Eddie… dating?”

Steve scoffs. “No, we’re just really good pals.”

“Who… kiss sometimes?” Charlie asks, confused.

Steve nods with a big smile on his face.

Nick sits up and crosses his arms. “Is this… an American thing?”

Steve shakes his head. “No, no. This is a me and Eddie thing.”

Charlie nods and leans over to Nick whispering, “And how do you know him, again?”

“He’s practically my cousin’s older brother. He’s staying here while Dustin stays with the rest of his friends.”

Charlie nods, still confused about the situation, before returning his gaze to Steve. “Steve… do you… think about kissing him often?”

“All the time. It’s my ‘Roman Empire’ as Dustin says.”

Nick and Charlie exchange another look before Nick squeezes Charlie’s shoulder and says, “I got this.”

Charlie watches as Nick carefully approaches Steve and puts a gentle hand on his back, leading him down the hall and prompting, “So, tell me more about your friend Eddie.”

Charlie sits back and glances to his right where Dart is curled up on the floor next to Nellie, wondering if this tops the most confusing moment of his life, ranking even above getting Nick Nelson as a boyfriend.

A few minutes later, he wanders down the stairs, easily picking up on the conversation.

“I’m… in love with Eddie?”

Nick is quick to say, “I’m not saying you are, I’m just telling you it’s okay to like both men and women. But maybe you are in love with him.”

There’s a brief silence before Steve says, “I think I am.”

Charlie peaks around the corner where Nick is sitting at the dining room table across from Steve, with a small smile on his face. “I know it can be confusing, but think on it over the next week. And I’ll be here if you have any questions.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair. “God, I miss him.”

“I can’t imagine going a week without seeing Charlie.”

Charlie’s heart skips a beat at the comment, and he wonders if he should stop intruding on this moment.

“So you two are… going out?” Steve asks carefully.

“Yeah, we are,” Nick answers with a proud smile.

Steve smiles back, a look of contentment settling over his face as if realizing if Nick and Charlie could do it, so could he.

Charlie steps on a creaky part of Nick’s house, and the two glance up at him. Nick holds him arm out invitingly and Charlie is quick to join him in the offered embrace.

Steve runs his hands over his face and laughs, “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it before. Robin has been giving me looks for weeks, and I haven’t been able to read them. She kept telling me she couldn’t tell me what it was about until I realized it for myself. It all makes sense now.”

“And Robin is…?” Charlie asks.

Steve smiles brightly and is quick to ramble about his best friend, and Charlie shares stories about Tao in return.

Eventually, Steve’s phone starts buzzing, and he’s quick to excuse himself, cheeks turning red as Eddie Instagram handle lights up his phone.

As he walks away, Nick and Charlie glance at each other again and smile gently. Nick laughs, “Do you think that’s how people saw us when we were first getting together?”

Charlie smiles. “I think we may have been much worse.”

“Or much better honestly.”

Down the hall, they hear Steve argue, “Yes, I know you don’t have an international phone plan. I’ll pay for your bill. Yes it’s important! No, it’s not the kids. No it’s- Eddie. Eddie, I’m in love with you!” There’s a pause and a heavy sigh before Steve continues, “You are not buying a plane ticket to London when you can afford an international phone call. This is not a debate!”

Nick squeezes his arms around Charlie and whispers, “Yeah, we were definitely better.”

“Why are they like this?” Charlie laughs.

Nick laughs in response as they continue listening to the disastrous conversation, glad that they helped someone else have their similar happy ending.

[thatone-brightstar]

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 9: You catch more bears with honey

Words: 5k

Summary: Who knew Chicago could be so small?

a/n: Please read! I normally only add warnings for like smut, but I don't want to trigger anyone; so listen please, trigger warning: mention of suicide attempt in flashbacks and panic attacks. You have been warned.

Other than that, thank you for sticking around thus far, commenting is always appreciated and if you ever need a friend to talk to, don't hesitate to reach out ❤️‍🩹

Carmy despised many things. The sensation of burning his tongue when he tasted something in a rush, and the hard pressure over his chest every time he opened Mikey’s accounting books, were just a few. But gatherings organized by his family were definitely above everything else, especially when he had no other choice but to attend. He could think of ten things off the top of his head that he’d rather be doing on his off day than drive to his sister’s house in the suburbs and spend a whole fucking afternoon with people he didn’t give a shit about. Yet for whatever reason, instead of spending his Sunday doing something he enjoyed -like going up to the coast or testing his lungs’ capacity to hold in air while he out you out-, instead he was stuck cutting up fruit for a punch Sugar insisted that he take.

He could have easily avoided the whole situation if he had kept his fucking mouth shut, but when he let your name casually slip on one of their spontaneous conversations and she had heard it, he knew she was going to pester him until she got any sort of answer. 

“Who’s that?” She asked and he could hear the grin in her voice.

“Uhh..” ‘Shit’.

“Bear, are you seeing someone?”

He had contemplated the question for a second, because he didn’t really know. He never asked you out officially -he didn’t have the words or know what to say- he just wasn’t built like that. And with everything going on in both your lives, he didn’t have much time to contemplate it. Besides, you had been ‘going out’ for a couple months already, and it wasn’t like you seemed bothered by the lack of a label, either. 

“Yeah… I-I am.” He spoke, the words falling comfortably around him. 

That was enough of an answer for her to insist on bringing you around for one of Pete’s Nephew’s Birthday party -or some shit like that. He was glad that Nat wanted to meet you, and under any other circumstances he would have obliged, but god did he hate that shit and the simple thought of being around screeching children made his skin crawl.

“Don’t add strawberries to the punch. Remember Pete’s allergic.” Nat called through the phone as he finished thinly slicing the oranges. “I don’t want him to end up in the ER like that one fourth of July party.” 

Carmy snickered into the phone that rested on his shoulder. “I told ‘em that shit had berries in it, his dumbass wouldn’t listen.” He grumbled.

“Well what did you expect? You idiots had him taking shots ‘till he was cross-eyed! He was lucky the alcohol made him puke ‘em out...”

“Yeah… that was a fun party.” He joked, earning an incoherent groan from his sister. “Fine... I won’t add berries.”

“Thank you. Alright I’ll see you in a few.” She said, mumbling a quick ‘Love you’ before hanging up.

By the time he was done saving the diced fruit into the containers, Carmy heard his front door open and your soft steps advance deeper down the hall. He enjoyed how quickly you had gotten comfortable going in and out of his apartment, particularly after he had given you your own set of keys. ‘That way you won’t have to wait at the gallery when I’m runnin’ late’ He had said in the most nonchalant way, though his insides felt like shutting down at the idea of your rejection. Your thank you came in the form of a heartwarming candlelit dinner, complete with an entree and dessert- that he had unknowingly bought- and that you hoped expressed all your gratitude. He had to bite his tongue many times that night because it was the only way to avoid a ‘Fuck, I love you’ to slip past his lips.

“Hey, hun.” You called, dropping the box of cupcakes you insisted on bringing and leaning up to peck his lips.

“You know you don’t have to take anything, right?”

“And show up empty handed? Do you not know me at all, Berzatto?” You joked, popping a piece of pineapple into your mouth before he sealed the container. “Besides, they’re cupcakes, that shit’s like catnip for kids.”

He snickered lowly as you took a seat on the barstool across from him.

“D’you need help with anything?”

“Nah, I’m good Love, thanks.” He said and you shuffled in your seat trying to ignore the flutter in your chest that the simple word caused. You wondered if there would ever be a time where his sweet words wouldn’t pull such a reaction from you, ‘hopefully never’ you thought.

“So, what should I expect?” You asked him.

“What’do you mean?”

“Yeah, y’know any weird uncles to stay away from…”

“I mean, my uncle Jimmy’s kinda iffy but that’s about it.”

With a soft smile you asked “You got an uncle named Jimmy?” 

“Why, is that weird?”

“No, just… very Italian of you.” You said with a laugh.

“Shut up” He half laughed. “He’s more of a family friend… but y’know, everyone’s an uncle.”

“No, yeah I get it, same” you laughed. “Okay, so just your uncle Jimmy, then?”

“Oh and Pete. He’s not weird, just a nerd, but you’ll probably get along fine.” He grinded then sniggered harder when you playfully pushed his shoulder.

He quickly got dressed while you skipped through the few channels available on his TV. Then once he was ready, although just physically, you helped him with the fruit containers while he carried the gallon of punch and your cupcakes down to the first floor.

The car ride was spent on raking your nails mindlessly along his arm as he asked about your paintings and the classes you gave to the few kids who didn’t go away for the summer. You also talked about the upcoming function and how you weren’t sure of the theme you wanted for your paintings yet. Between that and the classes, you didn’t have much time to use the workshop in the back, but you made good use of the extra hour you sometimes stayed while waiting for him.

In turn, Carmy told you about Marcus’ new desserts and how proud he was that the team was starting to come together after so long. You remembered Syd calling you a few weeks before, excited that Tina had finally called her chef and a fondness spread through you at how things were finally turning for both of them. For everyone really.

The closer you got to the destination, the more your nerves bubbled in your stomach. Your foot bounced anxiously in the passenger seat of Richie’s car, making the box of cupcakes that rested on your lap rustle with your movements. Your insides were a worried mess as you nibbled on your thumbnail with eyes glued on the road and a thousand thoughts racing per minute. Carmy took his hand from the steering wheel and placed it gently over your bouncing knee, trying to calm you, but it only transformed your thoughts into words that spilled from your parted lips.

“What if she hates me?”

“She's not gonna hate you.” He reassured.

“How do you know that?!”

“Because she's been buggin’ me about you for the past two weeks.” Carmy groaned in a faux exasperated tone. 

“Sorry, I’m just really nervous. I’ve never met anyone’s family before.” You said, threading your fingers tightly through his.

“Yeah? It’s going to be fine, trust me.” He assured and reached your joined hands up to kiss the back of yours. He wanted to admit that this too was a first for him, but you were nervous enough as it was and he didn’t want to burden you with his own anxieties. 

You reached Sugar’s house around noon, the bustling sound of feral children penetrated the closed windows of the car even as he parked half a block away. You both sat in the silence for a couple minutes, basking in the few moments of peace left.

“I hate this shit too,” Carmy said while opening your door. “but we’ll be an hour or two, max. Just to get Sugar off my ass.”

“What, you don’t wanna parade me around like arm candy?” You teased to hide your obvious tenseness.

“Trust me babe, if I could, I’d keep you all to myself…” He mumbled with a sigh against your temple before placing a kiss on it and rounding the car to take out the stuff from the back.

The first thing you were met with after crossing the threshold was the heavy smell of smoked sausages. Toasted bread and the sweetness of caramelized onion filtered through your nostrils as you made your way deeper into the room. The excess sounds of laughter from the living room mixed with the distant screaming was slightly overwhelming, but you were soon grounded by Carmy’s strong arm around your waist, guiding you to where you assumed the smell came from.

“Bear!” The tall woman greeted once she spotted her brother, taking off the oven mitts and walking to his side to hug over his shoulders.

You stood a bit awkwardly to the side, before she pulled away from him and looked at you with a smile.

“Hi, I’m Nat.” She introduced herself after a few seconds where no one spoke. You took her outstretched hand with a nervous chuckle and introduced yourself.

“Shit- right, sorry. This is my sister Nat, Nat this is my -uh- girlfriend.” His words came out rushed, afraid that once they were out you’d refuse them. But all he saw were glowing eyes and blushed cheeks pushed up from your smile.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, well by name at least.” Sugar said, eyes raking over her brother in scrutiny. “I saw you at the restaurant once, right?”

Your palms grew sweaty at the memory, how you had stupidly believed Richie and how you had thought that the woman in front of you was Carmy’s wife. Now that you stood closer and could find traces of his face scattered around hers, you wanted to slap yourself for ever believing such an idiotic lie.

“Yeah, I worked there for a couple months.” You responded, placing the box of cupcakes over her kitchen island, where she began flipping the hotdog buns she had pulled from the oven.

“And what do you do now?”

“She’s an artist.” Carmy answered for you, a proudness evident on his light features as he turned to you with a ghost of a smile.

“I give painting classes to kids. And also do some work on the side.” You specified.

“That’s pretty cool. You must be used to all of this, then.” Natalie said, signaling to some kids that ran past the doorway playing tag.

You laughed in agreement, the nervousness dissipating the more you interacted with her. While Carmy mixed the punch, you helped her buttering the buns and placing a sausage in each one, all throughout a scattered conversation. 

“I’m gonna take these to Pete.” She said, taking the tray of hotdogs and thanking you for the help. “Bear, once you're done, put the punch out on the patio, will you? And try not to spike it with anything!” Natalie yelled from the door.

“It was one time!” He yelled back, a smile hidden behind his words. “It was just once…” He muttered softly to you.

“I believe you…” You assured with a teasing smile. “So… girlfriend, huh?”

He gave you one of those looks that made your insides quiver, the kind that  had you all flustered and throwing the dishes into the murky water when you still worked at the beef. Carmen shrugged and looked back down at the punch with a soft smile.

“I thought it was a good time…”He  whispered. “A-are you okay… with it?”

He looked at you again. Crystal eyes gave a clear view to his swirling emotions and for a brief moment, you finally understood why they say that the eyes are windows to the soul. 

“Yeah. I’m really okay with it. ” You whispered back and despite your hectic surroundings, his glowing features proved that he had heard your every word.

“Good, good.” He rambled, clearing his throat.

“Carmen, my boy!” 

You both turned to the entrance, where a man with slicked back hair and thick aviator glasses walked towards Carmy, arms stretched out.

“Haven’t seen you since you roofied my kid’s party!” His chuckle boomed as he hugged Carmy, one hand clapping hard over his back.

“Jesus, why is everyone rememberin’ that today all of a sudden?” Carmy joked. “And it was Xanax, okay? I’m not a fuckin’ perv…”

“I’ll forget it when you do somethin’ worse, alright? Wow…” He said, turning to you. “You’re new.”

You whispered a nervous ‘Hi’ to who Carmy introduced as Cicero, or his uncle Jimmy, the man taking you by the shoulders and placing a soft kiss on each cheek. Before you knew it, you were surrounded by a group of people greeting your boyfriend, all with a different topic and speaking over each other's words. He navigated easily around them, as if the action was almost routinary, though the hard grip he had around your hand gave away how anxious the situation really made him feel. 

They were asking you questions too, flinging them in your direction, hoping you’d catch the bait. ‘How’d you meet?!’, ‘How long have you been together?’, ‘I’m glad he finally has a girlfriend, we were startin’ to think he was gay!’. The last one earned an uproar of laughter from the group and distracted them enough that you could pull yourself away from the hoard. Carmy wasn’t so lucky, one of his aunts had her arm looped through his, holding him in place. You shot him an apologetic look as you took the punch and hauled it out the back door, mouthing a ‘Sorry’ with a shrug and a smile.

You placed the glass cylinder on the long white table that rested on the grass, surrounded by platters of fruit and some already cooked hotdogs. The noise was a bit higher than inside, but the soft breeze of the summer afternoon helped calm the slow growing headache.

“The wolf pack got to you, huh?” Natalie asked, placing another tray of cooked dogs then standing beside you.

“Yeah.. I guess.”

“I think they just got all excited cause they’ve never seen him with anyone…” She turned to look at her brother through the glass door, with a certain softness that one only reserves for someone who you’ve seen grow up.

You turned too, he was listening intently to a short woman speak, hands clasped behind his back and nodding politely to her conversation. The crowd had dispersed and you were glad that he didn’t have to be stuck in the whirlpool of taunts from his family anymore.

“Haven’t really seen him outside that stupid place in a while...” She spoke, pulling you from your thoughts. “Did he… tell you about Mikey?”

You let a few seconds pass before answering “He kinda mentioned him, once.”

Nat nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the playing children around you. “Well, I’m glad he at least has someone to talk to. God knows he won't even take my calls.” 

She smiled down at you, a soft tint around the rim of her eyes and the button of her nose. It was surprising how similar they looked, even in their sadness, their facial expressions mirrored each other’s well. You wondered if Mikey looked anything like them, sharing the same sandy blonde hair and the saddest of blue eyes.

She then sniffed softly and cleared her throat. “Drink?” She filled up the plastic cup with the orange liquid once you nodded.

“Babe, look! someone gave Jack a plane!” A tall man shouted towards Natalie, while shaking the controller in her direction. “Come see!”

“I gotta go make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone-” She grumbled to you, making you laugh, then took her cup and began walking towards him. “You’re doing great, babe!”

You stood leaning on the side of the table, sipping on your drink and observing your surroundings. You watched how Nat’s husband wrapped his arms around her and tried teaching her how to steer the model plane. Then, how in a fit of laughter it came plummeting down and almost crashed into the ground before it rose back up again. You silently giggled from afar at their actions and how happy they seemed.

“You left me alone to die in there.” You felt Carmy’s sultry breath fan the side of your face, then his arm fall softly over your shoulders.

“Hmm, you seemed pretty comfortable to me…” 

“Yeah, right.” He sniggered.

“Your uncle Jimmy seems nice…”

“Yeah.. just never borrow money from him..” Carmy mumbled and before you could ask what he meant, he cleared his throat and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “D’you wanna get outta here?”

You looked up to glistening eyes and bit your lip to hide your smile. “What did you have in mind?”

He shrugged looking around the open space and taking your cup before raising it to his lips. “Dunno. I just know that you look really fuckin’ hot in those jeans and it’s driving me insane.” 

Your breath got caught in your throat at his blunt response, the smile on your face curving into a more mischievous one and you looked around wondering if his family would even notice your absence. 

“Okay. ” You whispered up at him and his brows raised in surprise. “I’ll, uhm just use the bathroom and meet you by the car” Then you stepped up on your toes and kissed the curve of his lips. 

As you made your way past the kitchen and along the hallway that harbored the open bathroom door, you saw an array of picture frames decorating the cream colored walls. You took your time admiring each one, a fondness blossoming inside your chest as you spotted the familiar pair of eyes and wild hair. The frames were in timeline order and even though there weren’t many pictures, it was nice to see the siblings slowly growing up. You recognized two of the three in one of the images, which seemed to have been  taken on Christmas morning. The third, an older boy with raven hair, was the one you could only assume as Michael. He looked different than what you imagined he would, but all three shared the same beaming smile.

It wasn’t until you reached the end of the hall that the fondness you felt in your chest turned into heavy bricks, plummeting into the ground and ripping a hole through the floor. You recognized the older dark pair of tired eyes staring back at you, how could you not? You had seen them many times before in the nightmares that you foolishly tried to escape. But it was too much of a coincidence and there was no way that Chicago could be that small. Yet the picture could not be clearer. 

In front of the less rundown restaurant that you had come to love, stood a younger Carmy, maybe in his late teens, with his arm falling loosely over his older brother- a man whose face you had not known before, but could now unmistakably identify as the one who you had run into that unfaithful night on the bridge. 

Your body shattered in sudden waves of cold sweats and you weren’t sure how long you had been standing in the middle of the hallway, gawking at the picture. Your hand held a tight grip  on  your stomach as the other hovered over the erratic beating of your chest, trying but failing to calm it down. The same adrenaline laced thought kept running in circles around your head ‘Chicago can’t be that small. It’s just a similar face.’ But no matter how hard you tried to kid  yourself, you knew deep down that it was him. 

The burning pressure began to grow and you used the last bit of strength left to move your legs from where they stood frozen on the floor, into the entrance of the bathroom and shutting the door with an impolite slam. It was then that the memories fell too heavy, pushing you down to level the floor and crushing your chest into an uncountable number of pieces. The bustling sounds of the party seemed too far away, clouded by the static ringing in your ears and by the sound of your own shallow breaths. You could feel the panic attack slowly inching closer to you, the corners of your vision bled dark and made the yellow lights in the bathroom swirl into watercolors that turned white and gray everything around you. You tried the stupid breathing exercises again, but every exhale left with a chest shaking cry that you had to silence with the flesh of your palm. 

The static in your ears now turned into rushing water and the overwhelming screech of tires and metal crashing against thick concrete. You were cold again, harsh pins and needles poked at the skin of your bare feet with every step on the fresh snow. You were cold and numb. Hot tears streamed from your eyes, burning a trail down your frostbitten cheeks and salting your trembling lips. You were angry again, cold and angry and numb all at once, feeling your fingertips glide over the freezing metal railing of the bridge. Clouds of hot air left your lungs in shaky breaths as your aching bones gripped tightly and your feet climbed up between the rails that separated you from endless nothing. 

Then finally, as your legs swung over the metal and you sat with your feet hanging over the dark water, you felt… nothing. It was as if all the pain that had been compressing your chest over the past months had suddenly evaporated. There was no lying boyfriend, no sickly grandmother or frustrated career. Just you, the icy barrier nipping at the back of your thighs through your leggings and the thousands of twinkling stars that had never looked brighter in the light polluted sky. You could lastly enjoy the silence you had so desperately tried to find during the months where your life seemed to fall apart. It was there, right in front of you, if you were only so brave to take the small leap and reach out to touch it.

A voice called your name from a distance, trying to break past the thick mirage that replayed in an endless loop. A soft blow vibrated against your back and the muffled voice called again with no response. It was as if you were trapped in a snow globe, cursed to relive the haunting memory of your own demise. Not even the constant vibration of the discarded phone resting beside you on the tiles could pull you out of your head.

‘You don’t wanna do that…’ A deep voice called from behind you. ‘You don’t wanna do that.’

**********

Carmy knew something was wrong when after twenty minutes of waiting by the car, you never came out or answered his calls. He asked his sister if she had seen you and when she answered ‘no’, his worry increased. His first thought was to search deep into the hallway and could hear you behind the bathroom door, soft whimpers that were barely audible through the outside noise, but still present. With his heart in his throat, he was able to push the unlocked door open just enough for his sister to slip past the narrow space and find you curled against it, eyes glued to the wall in front of you but completely dissociated.

Natalie crouched down towards you in a hurry, wrapping her hands over your tear stained cheeks and pulling your blank face up to help your eyes focus on hers.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Look at me-” She urged. 

Only a soft ‘I knew him..’ fell over and over from your lips.

“Breathe, hun, you gotta breathe, okay?” Her voice was neutral, but the slight tremble in her hands gave away the thin panic.

“Your brother-” You finally said, swallowing the dryness that invaded your throat. “I-I knew him he- I-”

The words felt heavy over your tongue, head still clouded with the visions of a memory that you thought buried six feet deep. You could feel the loose soil around it pile inside your mouth as the words unearthed themselves.

“it’s okay, yes Carmy’s outside-”

“No, Mikey! T-that night, on-on the bridge when I… He was there, he-” You took a deep breath and screwed your eyes shut. “I-I was gonna jump and he-” A soft cry replaced your words, then you felt Natalie’s arms circle your back and press you hard against her.

The force of your cries were muffled by her shirt, staining the soft fabric with your snot and makeup, but she didn’t seem to care.  You still couldn’t understand it. It felt like a cruel joke orchestrated by whoever the fuck was in charge of existece, to make you believe that you could finally leave all your horrible mistakes in the past - to let you grace happiness with the tips of your fingers- only to have reality slap you in the face and beat you back down to the ground.

The pressure of her hug grounded you back to your body and helped create a tempo for your erratic breathing, until soft sniffles were all that was left of your breakdown. Her soft strokes on the back of your head comforted you in a way you didn’t know, in a way that only an older sister could.

You felt Carmy’s soft knocks vibrate on the door and a slight panic bubbled again.

“You can’t tell him! He’s gonna hate me, you can’t-” You whispered in a rush.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay..” She hummed. “I’m not gonna tell him, okay? I won’t. But you’ll have to eventually. He has the right to know.” 

“I know, I know. I will, I promise, but I can’t right now. I just- I can’t…”

She nodded in understanding and pulled her arms from you, letting you push yourself onto wobbly knees and make your way to the sink, where you tried to clean up as best as you could. After washing away the remnants of salty mascara streaks on your cheeks and drying your face, you turned to Natalie still sniffing back a few tears.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

She only nodded slowly with a forced tight smile and raked her fingers through her hair in a gesture that reminded you heavily of her brother.

“I’m gonna -uh- stay here. A little longer.”

With a soft ‘Okay’ in her direction and a heavy heart, you turned to exit. 

Carmy quickly pushed himself off the hallway wall where he patiently waited for you, a heavy look of worry concealed under his creased brow.

“A-are you okay? Do I take you to the ER or somethin’...” He rambled as soon as he spotted you, reaching up to rub warmth into your cold arms. “Jesus, you’re freezing. Is everything alright?”

“Y-yeah. I didn’t mean to freak you out, I'm sorry.” And you truly meant it, but he couldn’t grasp on to what degree. “I just got really overwhelmed-”

“Hey, no- it’s okay, don’t apologize.” He wrapped his strong arms around your shaking frame and whispered “I knew this was a shitty idea…” Into your hair.

You shakily inhaled the familiar scent of his aftershave and cigarettes, the voice in your head taunting you to ‘Enjoy it while you can, after you tell him, he won’t even want to look at you’ and a fresh batch of tears threatened to burst out.

“Where.. where’s Sugar?”

“She said she needed the bathroom.” You mumbled into his shirt.

“Okay…C’mon, let’s get you home.” 

All you could do was nod and trail behind him, hand locked tightly into his. The party had moved to the patio, where a chorus of voices sang Happy Birthday, oblivious to your escape. You had underestimated the time you spent in the bathroom because what had felt like only a couple of minutes to you, was actually long enough for the sun to start setting over the skyline by the time Carmy turned on the car and began the drive back. 

Your forehead spent the whole ride home pressed to the window, hoping that your skin absorbed some of the coldness and reduced the pounding between your brows. Carmy’s hand never left your leg and you didn’t look in his direction, scared to see the hardened  expression that loomed over his features when he was deep in his head. You felt guilty. To see the poor man in torturing thought, trying to figure out what it was that could have made you spiral in such a way. You only spoke when you asked him to drop you off at your building and he made no effort to contradict your choice, despite heavily wanting to.

You only threw  an empty smile and a kiss on his cheek, accompanied by a soft ‘good night’ before rapidly exiting the car and disappearing behind the hard wooden doors. Carmy felt confused and worried, above anything else and couldn’t shake the sensation off his shoulders as he reached his eerily silent apartment without you.

The stairs to your floor had  never felt more difficult to climb, and when you finally dragged yourself through your door and spotted your grandfather resting on the couch, the dam that had only slightly cracked in Natalie’s bathroom, finally broke. You flung yourself to his side and cried until the back of your throat felt raw and stung with the waves of your shuddering breaths. He held you close without question, rubbing your back rhythmically and humming one of the lullabies he’d sing to calm you down as a child.

You didn’t know if you cried out of guilt, anger or fear. Or if maybe it was a mixture of it all, but it didn’t matter. Because the only image that swam infinitely in your head was the menacing memory of the frostbitten skin on your cheeks and the -until today- unknown man that had pulled you off the State Street Bridge’s edge. 

Chapter 10.

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne, @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha, @yum-yahgurt and that’s it lmao

[whoisshel]

Madmax

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

word count: 1479

tw: swearing

previous part

For the rest of the school year, your nightmares became less and less. By the time summer started you barely had any. You were happy to be able to enjoy your summer knowing that it was all in the past now. During the summer, you hung out with Jonathan and Nancy a few times, and sadly if you were with Nancy that usually meant Steve was around. You spent most of your time with Robin or Eddie though. When you were with Robin, you would usually hang out at your house and watch movies or go swimming. You and Eddie would go to a lot of drive-in movies in the next town over, but the two wouldn’t watch a lot of movies. 

You were now back in school, including Eddie since he failed his classes and is now having to retake Senior year. It was your favorite time of year, Halloween time, Eddie and you already had your matching costumes picked out and were ready to go to parties so Eddie could make a lot of money by selling drugs. You just had to get through school today and tomorrow, but tomorrow night you could have the time of your life.

You park your car in the school parking lot and get out, heading over to where you spot Steve’s car. Inside you see Steve and Nancy kissing, going over to the driver's side you bang on Steve’s window causing them to jump apart. 

Steve looks out the window seeing that it was just you, “What the hell, Y/N.”

You couldn’t respond because you were laughing so hard but stopped once a car came screeching into the parking lot. Nancy and Steve get out of the car to get a better look at what the noise was. A blue Chevy Camaro speeds into the parking lot with a boy about their age and a young girl in the car. After doing a sloppy parking job, the teen boy in full denim and a mullet gets out of the car and the young redheaded girl quickly gets out getting on her skateboard going towards the middle school. Carol and her new group of snobby girls stand there checking him out. 

You turn to look at Nancy and Steve with an annoyed look on your face. “Who the fuck is that, douchebag?” Nancy and Steve just shrug, “He your new bestie King Steve.”

“Oh knock it off.” Steve gives your shoulder a light shove as you chuckle.

You spot Eddie pulling in and say goodbye to the couple before skipping over to your boyfriend. Once Eddie gets out of the car, with his back towards where you were coming from, you jump on his back once you make it over to him. Eddie lets out a loud, “Jesus Christ.” 

You get down, so he can turn around to face you, you put your arms around his neck and he puts his around your waist. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I am cute, aren’t I?” You hum, giving Eddie a cocky smirk. In response, Eddie lifts you off the ground swinging you side to side as you squeal. 

“You’re such a pest,” Eddie says, setting you back on the ground.

“Only to you.”

“Oh yeah, then why is Steve Harrington glaring over here?” Eddie nods his head over to where Steve is standing. Turning your head, you see Steve looking in your direction from his car with Nancy still next to him. 

You give him a smirk and a short wave before turning back to face Eddie. “I'm a pest to you, but mean to everyone else.”

“That’s my girl.” Eddie chuckles before you both start walking to the school with his arm around your shoulders and your arm around his waist.

Later on, you are walking down the hall after one of your classes when you spot Steve standing at the end with his sunglasses on.

“You look like a stalker with those things on,” You said, once you reached Steve.

“Thanks, Y/N, you're so nice.” Steve scoffs, putting the sunglasses on his head as you lean against the wall next to him.

“I try.” You shrug, then look down at the binder in your arms where an orange paper sits on top. You pick it up pushing it in Steve's direction. “You going to this?”

“Tina’s party, yeah,” Steve responds, handing the paper back. “Gonna get sheet faced?”

“Yeah, what the hell is that about?” You and Steve both chuckled at the awful pun.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to need it after tonight.” Steve sighed at the thought of the awful and awkward night he’s going to have.

“Oh, you have the dinner with Barbara’s family tonight, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Steve groaned, then turned to face you pointing over his shoulder in a joking manner. “I could invite you if you’d like?” You waved your hands in front of you to stop him from going any further. “Oh fuck no, leave me out of this.”

“I wish I could get out of this that easily,” Steve said he then spotted Nancy and Jonathan walking your way. He put his sunglasses back on and crossed his arms, slouching against the wall. “Here she comes.”

When Nancy and Jonathan stopped at Nancy’s locker, Steve walked over to Nancy picking her up the same way Eddie picks you up. With Nancy now consumed by Steve’s attention, you saw Jonathan get a bit disappointed and walked over to him.

“Hey, Jonathan,” You said as you reached him, you both continued to walk down the hall and towards your next class. You saw that Jonathan also had an orange flier for the party. “You going to Tina’s party?”

“Oh, no. Nancy’s trying to talk me into it, but I’m going to take Will trick-or-treating.”

“That sounds like fun.” You tried to sound enthusiastic, but the two just laughed at your failed attempt. “How has Will been?”

Jonathan had a small smile at the thought of his younger brother. “He’s doing alright. He’s had a couple episodes lately, but he’s pushing through it.”

“That’s good.” You smiled at Jonathan’s optimism for his brother. You hoped Will would feel better soon, and that the episodes were just that, not anything worse.

—----------------

Later that night, you were sitting at your desk on the phone with Robin, while you added the finishing touches to your costume. 

“Did you see Tammy Thompson today, she looked gorgeous.” Robin gushed to you over the phone about her new crush.

“Ugh, I don’t get how you like her.” You groaned, really not getting what Robin sees in Tammy. “She’s like the female version of Steve.”

“Don’t even get me started on Steve. All she does is look at him.” You could feel Robin’s eye roll through the phone.

“Another reason why you shouldn’t like her.”

“Yeah, but she’s actually nice like she actually stands up to her friends when they’re being mean.” 

“But the singing!”

“Let’s not go there.”

“I’m going there 'cause if she doesn’t stop singing with her awful voice I’m going to punch her in the throat so she’ll never be able to sing again.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Robin knew you were joking, but she thought she’d egg her friend on and the two ended up going back and forth playfully arguing. As the argument continued, you heard the leaves rustling outside your window and could hear what sounded like someone yelling at the branches.

“I’m going to have to let you go, I think I hear Eddie trying to climb into my window.” You cut the argument short.

“Alright, have fun with your boyfriend while I just lay here dreaming about having a girlfriend.” Chuckling, you both said bye to each other and hung up the phone.

You walked over to your window opened it and stuck your head outside as you watched your boyfriend struggle to get up the tree. After a few moments of watching him struggle, you finally called out to him, “You know, you can use the door now.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie yelled out for the second time today. “Why do you keep trying to scare me?”

 “You’re just easy to spook.”

Eddie finally made it through your window and pulled you into a kiss. As the kiss grew deeper, Eddie put his hands on either side of your face to pull you in closer and you grabbed onto the lower part of his shirt near his waist. They continued kissing, taking slow steps towards your bed when they were interrupted by a knock on your door.

“Let Eddie know that we have a front door.” Your mom called from the other side of your door.

The couple looked at each other shocked that you had been caught, but then quietly started laughing at the situation. “Got it, Mom!”

[sky-neverending]

Falling (doesn’t feel so bad when i know you’ve fallen this way too): Part 1

so i’ve decided i’m gonna start posting parts of my michie oneshot until i finish it and post the whole thing on ao3 so uhh here’s part one!!

They say the old Waylon place is haunted. And it is, in a way. For nothing ever truly dies there, the Waylon’s made sure of that.

But there’s someplace else in that tragedy-ridden town that holds the very same spells and incantations that the Waylon’s placed on their home, a building used as a backup in case anything ever went wrong.

Hatchetfield High.

So when Richie Lipschitz died in that school, on that fateful day, his spirit never really moved on. He stayed dormant in those halls for a week, and then two, and then almost three. Watching. Waiting. Holding out for Maxwell Jågerman to show his face at the sight where he took an innocent boy's life.

And it happened.

The doors to the gym cluttered upon, catching Richie’s attention. It was night, school was closed. Someone had broken in.

“Are you sure about this?” he heard a familiar voice say, squeaky and filled with worry. “Who knows what kind of door we’re gonna open.”

“We have too, Pete,” a girl responded, again her voice a familiar tone. “For Ruth, and Richie, and everyone…” His head perked up at his own name, and he walked toward them, feet light on the floor. “Grace, summon these bastards.”

He stepped through the door, looking into the darkness as Steph, Pete, and Grace knelt in the middle of the gym with a large black book in hand. They began chanting, and a chill ran through Richies undead spine as something in the air shifted.

“Stop!” He leapt forward, calling to them. “Stop, stop what you're doing!”

Everyone turned to look at him. “Richie?” Pete whispered, like he was afraid of what he was seeing. “Richie, how are you here? You- you're dead!”

“Max is dead too, and somehow he is haunting us, so who knows what the fuck is going on anymore?” Steph threw her hands in the air. “Sorry, Richie, for not being happy about your sudden appearance. But we are freaking the fuck out!”

Suddenly, Grace stood. She took the book she was holding with her, flipping through the pages as she talked. “This makes so much sense!”

“Sorry, what?” Steph walked toward her. “Care to clue the rest of us in?”

Grace rolled her eyes. “The Waylons, they put evil magic on their house, right? So it makes sense that they might have put the same spell on another place they founded.”

“Like the school!” Pete said, catching on. “That’s why Richie is here, he’s in the same situation as Max!”

“Then why isn’t he trying to kill us?” Steph asked, yanking the book from Grace’s hands. “Because, if you don’t remember, we currently have a very angry, very undead jock plotting our demise!”

“Shut the hell up!” Richie yelled, stalking toward her angrily. “Everyone, just shut up! I have no clue what the fuck you guys are talking about anymore, but I don’t like the look of that book. Give it to me.”

“No!” Steph said, turning away from him. “We need to do this!”

“For fucks sake, Steph, you aren’t the main character in a poorly written anime,” Richie grumbled, reaching for the book. His hand skated over his skin, and she screeched at the contact, dropping the leather bound pages on the floor.

Richie caught them mid-air, right as Steph stopped screaming. “Why can you touch me? Why are you so cold? What the FUCK is going on?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just how ghosts work, Stephanie Lauter,” said Richie, pronouncing each syllable of her last name separately. “Now, I'm going to keep this book because I, frankly, am frightened of what you are going to do with it.”

[rocketboots564]

Teen Wolf OC: Enrico’s Dream

Here’s a bit of writing I made for a Teen Wolf OC of mine: Enrico Mahealani, the son of one of Danny’s cousins, who comes to live with him after his father’s death. This takes place after the events of the Teen Wolf Movie, and is part of a sorta fix-it au of mine that I’ve been brainstorming over while watching Teen Wolf for the first time.

For more info on him check out here

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“Life is the art of dying” -Atticus Finch

The dreams started from the moment I moved into Beacon Hills.

It always begins the same way

I open my eyes, standing in the entrance of an old, decrepit house, deep within a forest of some kind. The walls and furniture were grayed and dirtied, covered in dust and mold. It smelled of rot and ash, but more than anything, it had the lingering scent of animal fur and blood. Burn marks decorated nearly everywhere he looked, even parts of the building had caved in or fallen apart, peering out into the forest outside.

“Where am I?” I mutter under my breath, a strange sense of unease and confusion climbing up my spine, snaking its way through my body. The place had been burned down, and ages ago by the looks of it. What little was left standing was covered in soot or marked with claws. Shadows and darkness took shapes in the deepest corners of the many halls and walls of the house, as if someone or something was watching me, an audience of hidden eyes staring upon me like wolves watching their prey. This place was home to tragedy, to souls lost and massacred by hate.

It wasn’t until I started to look around that I heard them… the whispers coming from the stairs. My eyes I darted to the main staircase, tracing up each step as the whispers got louder and louder, as if trying to scrape warn me, clawing their way into my ears and head. At the very top of the stairs, amidst the light of the full moon that blanketed the house, I saw it…

Two bodies, strung together and hung to the ceiling by rope, their feet dangling right above the ground. My heart nearly stopped, my face running cold as I watched them dangle above ground. Their faces were bloodied and scarred, blood dripping from their open wounds. One was a dark-skinned man, his face hung low in an expression of despair. A terrified, betrayed look rung in his dead eyes, as if all he had ever known and loved had turned against him in his final moments. The other was pale, with long, blonde hair that was matted with grime. As if in opposition to the man, her head was held high, angered tears streaming down her face as a fiery and vengeful rage filled her furrowed brow.

Both of them couldn’t have been any older than 17. They were teenagers…kids… just like me.

“Oh my god,” I whispered under a hushed breath, trying to force the terror in my heart back down as I stepped closer. Their gored faces began to twitch and shudder, flickering to life as they shouted in unison, “SAVE THEM! SAVE THE PACK!!”

They screamed in agony, their bodies writhing and jerking around. Their eyes flashed a deep yellow, as their wounds began to loose more and more blood, dripping down the steps of the stairs into a bloody pool at the bottom.

Panic began to set in, my instincts taking over as I ran to the stairs. “Hold on! I’m right here!” I cried out, running up the steps, hoping I could make it. Save them! I have to save them! my thoughts echoed in my mind, each step feeling like a mile, my body moving as if time had slowed to a screeching halt. My hand reached out, my fingers stretching toward them, blood rushing through my veins. Their screams biting into my skull like glass as I winced, my eyes shutting tight from pain.

The next thing I felt was a burning heat.

My eyes blinked open, and the two bodies were gone. The house was now burning, fires feasting away at whatever was left of the house. I gasped, stepping back as the stairs back down crashed in on itself, burning away as hole began to form, leading into a dark, empty abyss. Confusion and fear began to claw at my heart as I stumbled back, the flames spreading across the house at an alarming rate.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, as I turned to face a man. He was tall, towering over me, his piercing gaze staring me down. His mouth bared fangs, his ears long and pointed as his irises of his eyes glowed a bright blue.

“W-Who are y–”

“FIND MY SON… FIND STILES” he interrupted, his voice growling like a beast as the flames began to engulf him, eating and burning away at his flesh. His grip tightened, as he threw me over the edge, my arms reaching out as I fell down into the empty pit below. All I could do was watch, falling endlessly into darkness as he burned alive.

It’s then that I wake up.

My throat gasps for air as I sit in my bed, alone again. No more flames, no more of that house, and no more bodies…

For others, dreams are a natural occurrence. They pass and go without so much as a thought in people’s minds. Some even remark at the absurdity of their dreams, the comical and nonsensical nature of them.

For me, dreams always mean something. They allude to hidden truths, of what has passed, and of what has yet to come. They are puzzles, intricate clues tangled in a web of vague visions that haunt my sleep.

And, most of all, they are gateways of communication, my own personal radio to those beyond the grave, the spirits of the dead.

I don’t know why they keep happening.

Questions racked my mind. What was this “pack” and who were those people? Who is Stiles, and who is that man’s son? My thoughts echoed back to me as they rang in my skull, my gaze drifting to my hands as they clenched tightly.

Something is wrong in Beacon Hills, and I intend to find out why.

(Fin.)

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Taglist:

@fionajames

[final-girl96]

Firefly Chapter Fifty-Nine

We made quick work of the guys near the record shop. Ellie ended up taking the bow and arrows that the one guy had. It was a lot better than shooting and making a bunch of noise. We walked through the store and out the otherside. All the other stores were closed up tight. “Where are they?!” Ellie and I looked at each other with wide eyes and ran. When we passed a hallway, I grabbed her arm and pulled her down it. “Now what?” She whispered.

I was looking around in a panic until my eyes landed on an air duct shaft that was open. It was a huge risk to go through there. We didn't know what would be lurking inside. “Through there. Hurry.” I pointed, and she looked at me like I was crazy, which I probably am. “We have no other choice, Ellie. We're trapped.” She huffed out, ducked down, and began crawling inside the duct. I took one more look at the end of the hall before following after her.

Luckily, we only came across a skeleton of a soldier. No infected or spores. When we got to the other end, we came out onto a balcony that was above a store. It was dark, but I could see several infected down below. Me and Ellie exchanged looks. We only had three arrows, and there were five or six infected. We ducked down, sitting with our backs to a piece of plywood that had been pressed against the railing. It hid us from the view of people and the infected. Ellie leaned closer to me and whispered into my ear. “I peeked around the plywood to see two men standing in the store on the other side. I looked around for something to throw. Finding a brick, I picked it up and threw it behind me. It hit a shelf, making a loud bang as the merchandise fell off and to the ground. Clickers and a couple runners screeched from below, and the curses of the men filled the air. Two more men showed up to help them…well, and they tried to help them. They weren't fast enough, though.

They did, however, take all but two of the infected. Only one of the men was able to get away, and once he was gone, Ellie took the last remaining infected out before we jumped down. From there, we were able to make our way through another store that came out close to the store Joel was in. There were even more men standing around near the escalators and by the door leading into the frozen yogurt store. It would be tricky, but we had no other choice but to take them out. Ellie let the first arrow go, and that set off the fight. Going back and forth; the two of us against at least six men.

It took a while to finally take them out, but once we did, we were able to get to Joel and stitch him up. “This isn't looking too good. We're going to have to try and find antibiotics.” Ellie looked at me worried. “We have to get out of here and find somewhere else to stay. Maybe we can find a neighborhood.”

When daylight came, we made sure Joel was bundled up before tying the sleeping bag to the horses. I opened the doors, and we headed out into the cold winter air. The snow had slowed down for now. “Do we head back to Tommy?” Ellie asked. “No, we keep heading towards Salt Lake City. That's where the doctors are. But right now, we need to find somewhere we can hold up until Joel is better.” I hoped we could find some antibiotics along the way somewhere.

We walked all day, taking breaks to check and make sure Joel was doing okay. I had to sit him up and give him small sips of water. We didn't have much left, and we only had a few pieces of jerky left. We had stopped at a few stores trying to find more bandages along with medication, but we're unlucky. We eventually came to a neighborhood and picked the closest house that wasn't all boarded up. We led the horses into the garage and closed the door. Ellie stayed with Joel while I checked to make sure everything was clear.

While I was in the house I grabbed a few couch cushions and took them down to the basement, laid them on the floor, and ran back upstairs to get Ellie. When I went into the garage she had found a couple of buckets and filled them with snow for the horses. “Joel, can you stand for me?” I asked, kneeling down beside him. He groaned as he sat up. Ellie came over and helped me get him to his feet. Then we helped him down into the basement. While I got him settled Ellie went back up and got all our stuff. She handed me the blanket and I covered Joel up, zipping his coat before I did so he was warm.

After Joel was settled in Ellie and I sat down on either side of him. “Are you warm enough?” I asked Ellie. She pulled her jacket closer around her neck and nodded. “I can go upstairs and look around for more blankets. I'm sure there are some in a closet somewhere. They might be musty though.” She shook her head. “I'm okay. Should we look through the rest of the houses for supplies?” She asked. I took a deep breath, nodding my head slightly. “Yeah. Yeah, we will. We can do it tomorrow. For now we should get some rest.”

She moved down to lay on the floor, facing towards Joel and laying her head on his shoulder. I stayed sitting up until she was asleep and then went upstairs in search of blankets. I was able to find three of them. They were musty like I figured they would be and a little moth eaten but they weren't all that bad. And besides, you can't be too picky in a world like this. I went back down stairs and covered Ellie up with one of the blankets.

I then laid down on the other side of Joel, laying as close as I could, putting my head on his shoulder, and covered myself up with a blanket. Then I took the third one and threw it over the three of us as best as I could. It should be enough to keep the three of us warm. I was hoping it would keep us all warm. It was getting colder the later it got. I leaned up, kissed Joel's cheek, and then slowly fell asleep.

[eternityofwords]

I have a book titled "Oracle" by Semra Haksever, which gives you different "oracles" on every page, so I decided to open it randomly and write a short story inspired by whatever it landed on. This is my twist on page 407. Enjoy.

I haven’t slept in weeks. I can’t remember the taste of anything other than the decaying moths and cockroaches. The silence in which I encapsulate myself while the sun is in the sky is roaring in my ears. I think my constantly strained muscles are about to burst. There are families of spiders that are currently hiding in the corners, but they don’t bother me during the day. Sometimes I talk to them or let them crawl all over my body because I enjoy how different it feels from the usual tightness of my limbs. Sometimes I even snack on them - I consider them a delicacy in comparison to my familiar menu.

The moon is my enemy. The night sky makes my bones ache and my heart race. When the sun goes down, I am not safe. I feel the splinters of the mouldy wood stabbing my skin. I hear screeches in the house - they’re searching for me. No, they are hunting me. They want to harm me. I hear the sound of scratching against walls - they are breaking the house apart and they will not stop until they reach me.

I’ve seen one of them. I was in my bed one night, alone in the inherited two-story house that I used to have all to myself - used, since now they’re here - and turned off the lights. As I was returning to my bed, I noticed the two bright white eyes with tiny deep dark pupils in the corner of my bedroom, attached to an unearthly body bending with the shadows. I felt my body tense, then my legs going limp, but I didn’t fall. I didn’t yell. I didn’t even run. I kept my eyes fixed on those large eyes and slowly retreated. I closed the door and kept my eyes on it until I reached the end of the hall, where I pulled down the ladder to the attic as quietly as I could. As I stepped on the first step, I heard the door creak open. I flew up the ladder and closed the door behind me in less than a second.

In the attic, I cradled myself in a corner on the moist wood. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I could only sob as quietly as possible and shake uncontrollably. I kept hearing noises underneath. I felt spiders on my skin, and back then I was deathly afraid of them. It felt like with every spider that I managed to flick off, more came for revenge. I vomited in my mouth and had to swallow it back. I had to piss myself because I was too terrified to move. I didn’t sleep. When the first light of the morning made its way through the small hole in the roof, the house went deathly still. No sound, no movement. I waited in my corner until I felt certain it was well past noon, and then I started crawling as gingerly as possible on the dirty floor. I went to the trap door and stared at it for a long time trying to gather up the courage to open it. Images of the creature that might still be lurking - quietly now - in my house kept flashing before my eyes. Ultimately, I decided that I would stay in the attic until the next morning, and if it didn’t return that night, I’d go out.

I looked around the attic and felt my heart stop when I realised just how empty it was. There was a large plastic barrel full of rainwater - I never got around to fixing the hole that I saw the sun peek through. To my surprise, it was almost filled to the brim with water. The next rain would’ve made it overflow. In one corner I found some old jars and paint cans, in the other I found a box full of nails. I felt my stomach rumble - I was hungry, but I knew I would have no problem making it through the night.

The night passed. I froze with fear when I heard the sounds downstairs - it sounded like there were more monsters now. I felt so hopeless and desperate and reminded myself that I’ve never had it in me to fight for my life. I decided that if they came back the next night as well, I would simply let myself starve to death in the attic.

The next day I laid down all day, only getting up twice to take a few sips of water. When I saw the moonlight through the hole, I heard them again. I closed my eyes and promised myself to keep on faking death until it became reality.

I did not move for a few days. I did not sleep, but I wasn’t awake either. It felt like slumber, yet I could feel everything. The hunger that was threatening to eat me from the inside. The spiders creeping into all of my holes. The unyielding thirst that made me feel like I was floating. The layer of dust that formed on my body and that filled my throat, making the urge to choke so unbearable that my eyes started to water. The pants that kept getting wet and dry and increasingly more filthy. The muscles that felt like they were rotting on my bones, underneath my skin. The heart that was slowing down with every passing moment.

The monsters downstairs.

I awoke with a halt when I realised one thing: If I died, they might smell me, somehow make their way here, and devour me. I would kill myself to escape their hunger, only to find my rotting corpse in their jaws. I would not let that happen.

I will never understand how I managed to turn myself over on my stomach and crawl to the barrel. I used it to help me up, and when I wanted to cup my palms, my head fell directly into the water. I had no strength to pull myself up again. I kept swallowing and swallowing water, inhaling it through my nostrils, trying to do something but unable to. I probably hung to the barrel too hard because at one point it tilted and fell on the side, on top of me. I choked and threw up for a long time. I felt the heavy dust stick to my wet skin and clothes. That was when I finally fainted.

I don’t know for how long I was gone, but I know that when I woke up I had an idea. The sun was out and a memory was burned at the front of my mind: a protection spell I learned from my grandma, made exactly with the objects in my attic. The issue was that I needed water for it to work.

I looked into the fallen barrel. To my surprise, there was still some water left inside. I don’t know what I was thinking - I hadn’t yet recovered from death and I was anything but rational - but I decided that I was done with drinking water after that experience. Still crawling, I took all the jars (except for one, I kept it just in case) and filled them with nails, then poured water on top. I filled nine jars and left them open. I left no water for myself.

Afterwards, I realised just how hungry I was. When it hit me, it felt like I would die of starvation right there. That was when I ate my first rotten cockroach.

Well, my first twenty-or-so cockroaches.

And I was certain they were the best thing I’ve ever eaten.

After filling myself with food, I was thirsty but refused to pour out my now “sacred” water, so I pissed in the spare jar and drank it. It was somehow worse than the bugs, but I had no choice. Then I emptied one of the paint cans on the floor and decided that would be my toilet from that point onward.

After a week, I poured some of the rusty water on the wood. It actually helped me feel slightly safer at night. This is how I spent all of my days in the attic.

I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve been living in this mess. After losing track of time when I decided to kill myself, I found no point in counting the days if I could never get the exact number.

I keep pouring rusty water. I think it keeps them at bay, but that doesn’t mean I don’t lock up completely when I hear the monstrous scratches on the walls and the horrible screams.

I am so scared.

I’m out of bugs. Dead or alive. There’s not a single cockroach left. No moth. No spider. I’ve eaten all of them alive. The flies that came to me because my attic now smells like something is decaying inside? I’ve eaten them as well. Oh? My clothes? In my stomach. My faeces? In an endless cycle of being eaten and shat out. Pieces of my skin?

I’ve run out of rusty water. I don’t produce enough urine to keep the spell going and drink.

I need to give up on the spell.

I’ve gotten weaker.

They’ve gotten stronger.

I think they figured out where I’m hiding.

Goodbye.

[kinshenewa]

Sun hummed, looking worried. He took a bite of the cucumber he had in his hand, pacing in the living room of the housing he and his brother shared.

"What's got your frills so down?" Moon asked, sipping his almond milk as he watched his brother pace with his frills covering most of his face.

"The human hasn't shown her face for almost a week now. I am worried." Sun replied, running a hand over his head and brushing his fiery orange frills back. "I need to make sure she is ok." He said firmly, looking determined as he marched over to the door and opened it.

"Good luck," Moon called, and Sun nodded as he left.

Sun went to Cadence's living area but found she wasn't in at the moment, as there was a small light to the right of the door that was red, meaning her presence was not detected inside.

Sun decided to wander the halls for a bit, only seeing her after an hour. She looked a little pale, holding a tissue to her nose as her eyes were drooped. Sun gasped softly in surprise, rushing over before trying to act cool.

He cleared his throat, smiling at Cadence as she looked up. "Hello human, I had noticed that your ravishing presence hadn't left your room for a few days. Care to share why?" He asked, smiling.

She chuckled, sniffling softly as she replied, "Ah, just a little under the weather. Got a bit of a bug, but it will pass."

Sun blinked, processing her words before saying, "Oh! You are sick?" She nodded, blinking slowly. "Yup. Must be flu or some shit. But it will pass."

Sun smiled, strutting closer as he said, "Ya know, I know a way to help with sickness."

She looked up from the floor, leaning against the wall as she said, "Oh yeah?" She quirked a brow, and Sun nodded eagerly.

"Yes, yes! Follow me!" He said cheerily, starting to walk. Cadence followed after.

He opened a door, and Cadence went into the dark room. "Where the fuck is this?" She asked, turning to him.

He turned on a light, and it was revealed to be a little storage closet. He smiled, a small click being heard through the room as his fangs became more prominent.

She quirked a brow, tilting her head and opening her mouth to ask a question, but was cut off as Sun grabbed her by the shoulders. He pulled her closer, his fangs dripping a bright pink liquid that dripped onto her shirt.

She screeched, punching him in the gut. He doubled over with a grunt, and she darted around him and made a beeline for the door. "I'm just trying to help!" He called after her retreating form, but she didn't look back.

Some time later, he returned to his living area. Moon looked up from his tablet as he was reclined on his favorite blue recliner. He quirked a brow as Sun grabbed an ice pack and plopped onto the couch, putting it on his stomach.

"What did you do this time?" Moon asked, returning his gaze to his tablet.

"Cadence is sick, so I tried to help her, but she hit me when I brought my fangs close to her neck," Sun replied, closing his eyes and resting his head back.

Moon's eyes widened, and he looked up from his tablet to look at Sun intensely. "Sun, you fucking dumbass." He said, looking furious, "Do you fucking realize how she could file a complaint against you?! She could get you kicked off the council because, from her view, it was assault! She thought you would genuinely hurt her!"

Sun winced, frowning as he replied sheepishly, "But I wasn't going to-" Moon cut him off, "She doesn't know that! You'll be lucky if you simply get a stern talking-to! She doesn't know how our biology works, you fucking dumbass!"

Moon looked furious, and Sun fiddled with his fingers, looking at the ground in shame.

"I-I forgot that not everyone knows how it works…" Sun said in a small voice, and Moon groaned loudly.

"Now I need to go and convince her not to report you!" Moon growled, turning and walking out, slamming the door behind him.

[waltwhitmansbeard]

go on, claim my heart: chapter fourteen

see my masterpost for what came before this.

Every morning, when Vax wakes up, for the briefest moment, he swears he can hear an infant's cries, just barely in earshot. It takes a single breath, slow in, slow out, to remember. Today, he awakens in a room he does not recognize in a house he hates, and once he understands that he does not hear his child just on the other side of the wall, he turns his head to see empty sheets beside him. Terror grips his heart, and he launches out of bed, throwing on clothes haphazardly in a matter of seconds before stumbling into the hall. The doors leading to the others' bedrooms are still closed, so Vax goes first to the parlor they'd spent most of the previous day, hoping to find her in there. Instead, all he sees is Grog, sprawled out in front of the dead fire and snoring loud enough to shake the walls.

Cursing under his breath, Vax flies through the halls, head on a swivel in the hopes of catching her out of the corner of his eye. She's not in the main foyer, nor the dining room, nor the music room where his father lets all manner of expensive instruments collect dust. With each empty room he searches, the hole in his chest only grows bigger; surely she was not taken, surely he did not once more sleep through the abduction of one of the most important people in his world, surely he has not failed to protect his family again—

He screeches to a halt in the middle of the hall leading toward his father's study. The grounds. Keyleth has always found the natural world comforting in times of emotional turmoil. He spins around and barrels outside into the cold, scanning the rolling hills of the estate in the low pre-dawn light until he just barely makes out a familiar speck of red beneath a mighty oak on the far edge of the property.

He nearly topples over with relief, jogging across the lawns as calmly as his heart allows until he believes himself to be within earshot. "Kiki?"

Her head pops up, having been bowed low, and as he approaches she asks, "What are you doing up?"

Panicking, is what he doesn't say. Instead he falls to his knees in front of her, takes her face in his hands, and kisses her until his already faltering breath fails him. "Do not ever," he pants, "do that to me again."

She smiles sheepishly, not needing elaboration. "I apologize. I didn't think..."

He kisses her forehead this time, simply elated to be holding her and no longer frantically searching his father's home. "It is fine, I just..." He sighs. "What are you doing out here anyway? It's dark and freezing."

"I had a dream." For the first time in days, there is a hint of hope in Keyleth's voice. "I dreamt of the cherry tree back in Zephrah, and how whether we are in our cottage or the castle, that tree will always be home to me. And then I was beneath the soil, following the tree's roots as they stretched out, farther and farther, impossibly far, until they touched the roots of another tree, and I followed those, and then I was above the earth again, this time at the base of a tree so large I could not see around to the other side of it. And I knew this tree to be the Sun Tree."

Vax frowns, confused. "I...am not following."

Keyleth grips his hands in excitement. "Percy has told me of the Sun Tree, an enormous tree in the center of Whitestone that Pelor planted there forever ago. It is an important part of his city's history, a symbol of the Dawnfather's protection of the place. But it is also just a tree, a part of the natural world, connected in the way that all living things are."

He's trying not to look as baffled as he feels, but it is becoming harder to trace the thread of her excitement. "My love, I don't understand. What does this have to do with you sitting beneath this tree in the dark?"

She chews her lip nervously. "You know that my understanding of my...gifts is tenuous at best."

"I do, not that I think that is any condemnation of your abilities."

"Well, thank you, but what I mean to say is that I do not fully comprehend how I can do the things I can do, nor how I know I can do them in the first place." She heaves a big breath. "And yet well I know that if I place my hand upon this tree behind me, I can open a door in its trunk that leads us straight through to the Sun Tree in the center of Whitestone."

Vax blinks. He tries to envision it, a doorway opening in the tree in front of him and the city of Whitestone waiting on the other side. It makes no sense to him, but he nods all the same. "Alright. Sure. I won't pretend that I understand what that means, but I have seen you pull lightning from above and shake the floors in rage, so if you say you can do this, then I believe you."

She sighs in relief. "If I am right, we will be able to get to Vilya a full week earlier than we'd originally planned."

He presses his lips to her forehead again. "Then let us pray that you are. Come." He stands, pulling her to his feet with him. "We will eat and prepare for our journey, whether it be by horse or tree. Let's wake the others; I know my father is eager to see the backs of us."

Keyleth grumbles her disapproval under her breath as they head back toward the house. Once inside, they are met with the house's butler, who informs them that a breakfast has been prepared. They're led to the dining room, where the rest of their groggy party is already eating. Vax settles in next to his sister, Keyleth on his other side, and he's just about to tell them the interesting development when another person skitters into the room, dressed in a frilly nightgown and clutching a stuffed owlbear in one arm.

Velora zooms over to the twins, poking her head between them. "Are you really leaving?" she pouts, swiveling to look at both of them. "Mama says you're leaving today."

Vax exchanges a look with his sister, whose heartbreak is apparent on her face. Vax is still in disbelief that this little girl exists, that his father would keep such a wondrous thing from them. He bends down and tucks her wild bedhead behind one ear. "Did your mother tell you why we came to visit yesterday?"

She shakes her head. "Something important and boring, I think." Vax huffs out a little laugh at that. "But can't you stay? I haven't even shown you my tree house!"

From across the table, Grog's eyes light up. "Tree house?"

Ignoring him, Vax crooks a smile at his little sister and says, "I would love nothing more than to see your tree house, Velora. But..." And as desperate as he is to get moving, to walk through his wife's strange plant door and go to his daughter, he cannot bring himself to break this girl's heart, this girl with whom he is already hopelessly enchanted. She reminds him so much of Vex, of the even wilder spirit she was as a young girl, and if he could he would sweep her away from this house and his father's austere tempers, take her to Zephrah where she can tumble across the castle grounds and dig her hands into the earth.

Vex rescues him. "Velora, darling, did you know that you and I have a niece?" Eyes wide, Velora shakes her head. "It's true! Her name is Vilya, and Vax is her father. And...well, right now, Vilya is in some trouble, and we are all on our way to help her."

"Oh." She hugs her owlbear contemplatively for a moment before turning and throwing her arms around Vax. "I hope you can help her and that you come back soon."

Vax's throat is suddenly thick, and he collects Velora in a hug. "So do I." He doesn't say that he will never come back here again, that her father has demanded his absence forever. If he must, he will be the villain who crushes her hopes so that she may still believe her father is a good man.

When he releases Velora, who sullenly trudges away to properly dress for the day, he turns back to the table, and in his periphery he sees a tear rolling down Keyleth's cheek. He places his hand atop hers and squeezes it. He does not need her to recount her pain in this moment; he, too, feels the exquisite ache of Vilya's absence when confronted with Velora's childlike spirit.

Over breakfast, Vax explains Keyleth's plan to expedite their travel to Whitestone, and even though he's met largely with doubtful stares, no one objects to at least attempting travel via tree. They eat quickly and pack up their belongings before gathering in the foyer. Syldor does not come to see them off, though Devana does, Velora sulking on the grand spiral staircase leading to higher floors. Vax thanks her profusely for her hospitality, but Devana waves him off. "I am sorry we could not do more." The phrase is said bitterly, and they both know all too well that they could have done more, if only Syldor had been willing.

Vex kneels before Velora and plucks a feather from her own hair to tuck behind the girl's ear. "I will send you lots of presents," Vex promises, "to remind you that Vax and I are very fond of you and will be missing you terribly."

"Can I come visit your castle?" Velora asks, lip trembling.

Vex hesitates, but then Keyleth is there, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You are always welcome in Zephrah, Velora. I am sure..." She takes a deep breath. "I am sure you and Vilya will get along magnificently."

Velora beams and hugs onto Keyleth's leg, and Vax watches a flood of emotions pass across his wife's face. Vax tears his eyes away from the scene to briefly detail their planned means of travel, and Devana, saint that she is, promises to bring their boarded horses to their own stables to look after until they can be sent for. As they all head for the door, Vax spies Keyleth murmuring something to Devana before passing her a sealed envelope. Devana nods and says something low back, and then Keyleth is joining them at the exit. With that, the Ashari group sets off across the grounds toward the large oak, Keyleth at the very front.

As they walk, Vax whispers, "What was that you gave to Devana?"

Her shoulders slump forward. "A letter to be sent to my father. I wrote it this morning, when I could not go back to sleep. I...I do not regret leaving, but I do regret the manner in which I left. I hope he can forgive me for doing what I needed to do."

Vax folds her arm into his. "I highly doubt there is a crime you could commit for which your father would not forgive you." Keyleth sighs and leans into his side.

When they've reached the tree, Keyleth places her hand upon the trunk and closes her eyes. "I think...we should have only a brief window to make it through," she says, and Vax must admit he is not made confident by her tone. "I suggest hurrying. I'll have to be the last one through, as I must keep the door open from this side."

Looking at each other nervously, the party falls into something resembling a line. Vax stands just beside Keyleth, not wanting to go through until the absolute last moment. Keyleth bows her head and concentrates, gripping Vax's hand tightly. For a long minute, nothing happens, and Vax worries that perhaps his wife, gifted as she is, has overestimated the extent of her talents. Then, with a creaking snap, the bark of the oak's trunk begins to split open, a black gap appearing in the wood. This gap widens, and the black is flooded with light. The light grows and grows with the groaning, cracking wood until an opening just a bit smaller than Grog is clearly visible in the tree, through which, Vax can hardly believe, they see a city, one with which Vax is wholly unfamiliar.

"Go!" Keyleth shouts, and Percy, who was standing stunned just a foot or so from the tree, jolts into action. He runs through the tree, quickly followed by Vex, the gnomes, and Grog, who must duck to make it through. Vax squeezes her hand once more before joining them, and the moment he has passed through the portal, which feels as physically mundane as stepping through any doorway, he turns and beckons Keyleth to come. She does, releasing her grasp on the tree and stepping through just as the doorway shrinks rapidly behind her.

Once they're all through, Vax wraps his wife up in a hug. "You are brilliant," he breathes in her ear.

"Um, Vax?" At Scanlan's question, Vax releases Keyleth and turns. His eyes go wide.

The party stands in a town square, edged on all sides by quaint cottages and brick buildings, with various streets and avenues branching off between them. Right before them, they face a large thoroughfare leading deep into town, and shambling up that thoroughfare, innumerable and terrifying, is a horde of what Vax can only assume is the undead, hunched and decaying and clearly heading straight for them.