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fandom-strumpet · 4 years ago

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Some Help

Prompt: Y/N gets back from a fight, she hasn’t shown Klaus her wings yet so when she needs help getting shrapnel out of them she calls for Rebekah. Rebekah isn’t home so Klaus comes to answer Y/N’s cries for assistance.

Word Count: 1705

Pairing: Klaus x Reader

Warnings: Blood, Angst, Swearing, Non canon character

You had just gotten home early from Prom night. You got in a fight with a nasty witch and you managed to take the fight outside with no casualties. Unfortunately, he had one upped you and sent metal shrapnel flying at you. The wings managed to take the most of the blow so the rest of your body was relatively fine save a few cuts and deep colored bruises. Stumbling into your room, you headed for the bathroom where you stripped out of the dress clumsily. Blood spatters ruined the sea green chartruese gown. You felt weary, slipping into some pajama shorts and black crop top bra. Dragging your feet you set yourself down on the sofa in your room. Suddenly you made your wings appear as you sat up and studied them in the vanity. Blood streaked down the feathers, and you began plucking out all the pieces of metal. Wincing, the first piece came out and it gave a clank as you tossed it on the vanity counter. 20 minutes later you were starting to work in the areas closest to your shoulder blades which were near impossible. The amount of pain you were in had you sweating and feeling delirious. At this rate you were going to pass out if you didn’t have some help.

“REBEKAAHH!” You yelled. You knew with her super hearing she would be able to hear you even in your weakened state. Silence.

“Rebekaaaaaah!” You groaned, leaning your forehead on the back of the sofa, your arms bracing you from collapse. Tears ran down your face and blurred the figure who knocked on the door.

“Rebekah?” You questioned.

“Not quite, love.” Answered a rich, honey accented voice.

Klaus. Your heart started racing, you couldn’t let him see you like this. He would think you were some kind of freak or monster. God I just need Rebekah.

“Where’s Bekah?” You rubbed your forehead.

“She’s still at the prom dance. What do you need?”

“Some help.” You sighed and Klaus went silent for a moment.

“Perhaps I could be of some assistance? Rebekah will be gone for a few more hours.”

You shook your head and groaned. I can’t last a few more hours.

“Y/N?”

Come in.”

Stepping in, Klaus gave an audible gasp at the sight. Here it comes. He’s going to say how horrific I look, what a beast I am. But no biting comments came, rather he was crossing over to you swiftly as he admired your beauty. His hands traced over your blood covered skin like he was afraid you would break any moment.

“Dear god, love. What happened to you?”

“Got in a fight with a witch and he put metal shards in my wings.” The hybrid growled hearing that.

“I need help getting the pieces out I can’t reach.”

“Alright, sit forward a bit darling.” He climbed onto the sofa behind you. His presence was a comfort, his heat and smell giving you a sense of security in the pain you were enduring.

“Here we go,” he warned and pulled a piece out. You hissed and Klaus put one hand on your back to still you as he continued to gently pull little pieces out of the feathers. You groaned and shut your eyes tight as nausea overwhelmed you.

“I’m sorry love, only one more to go.”

“It’s- AAAAAAAHHHGGG!”

Klaus had taken the opportunity to wrench out the largest piece near your shoulder blade where your wings joined your body. Tears streamed down your face as your scream filled the room. You made your wings vanish from sight, not able to bear another moment of Klaus’ view. Leaning back to collapse, Klaus cradled you in his arms as you sobbed. He planted a kiss on your forehead and softly apologized over and over for causing you so much pain.

“Y/N, you need to take a shower.”

“I don’t think I have the energy to stand that long and I don’t think you’ll want to get in the shower with me.”

Mentally Klaus countered your statement as he would like to but considering the circumstances it wouldn’t be the right time.

“Then I’ll help you to the bath.”

You nodded slightly. He was right, you needed to get all the excess blood off your body before you could fall asleep properly. Klaus went into the bathroom to start the bath while you got undressed. A few minutes later you walked into the bathroom to find a bathtub full of bubbles. The sight made you smile a bit, it was almost kid like to see all the foam. And it smelled like roses, oh heavens it looks amazing. Klaus turned and covered his eyes as you slipped out of the robe and into the sea of foam.

“You’re good to turn around now.”

Klaus turned and smiled at you. You looked like such an angel sitting there in the tub. Your bare skin attracted him like no other but he had to stay focused on the task at hand. Getting you cleaned up. Klaus grabbed a sponge and started helping get the blood off your back.

“Love, I’m going to need you to show me your wings again.”

There was a silence as you processed his request.You didn’t like that he had to see your true form but he was right. You had to clean the wings and you couldn’t do it without some help.

“Okay,” you said softly.

You focused your eyes on the suds as a whoosh sounded and your wings appeared. Klaus was speechless once again, his mind so wrapped up in you.

“This might hurt a bit.” Klaus warned.

And he was right, your wings stung as the sponge made contact. Klause watched as a mixture of water and blood dripped from your feathers into the water, creating swirls. For the next half hour, Klaus remained by your side helping you wash off. Finally, once almost all the bubbles were gone, and Klaus deemed you clean, you were able to get out. Klaus gave you his arm in support so you could get out and he respectfully looked away to give you some sort of privacy, no matter how minute.

“Do you need any help getting dressed?”

“Actually, yeah.” You blushed.

“Let me get you some pjs.”

“Middle drawer. You motioned with your head. In a flash, Klaus was back with your favorite graphic t shirt and comfy pj pants.

“I can get the bottoms, I just can’t quite get my arms high enough for the top.”

Klaus nodded in acknowledgement and turned around to let you get half dressed. He smiled a bit upon hearing the towel drop to the floor.

“Alright you can turn around now.”

Klaus turned to see your back facing him. You still felt shy about showing Klaus everything. A girl would normally dream about being stark naked with her crush but this just felt different. You felt so exposed in this weak moment. With your wings out of sight, Klaus could now see the already fading scars on your beautiful skin. He stepped forward and gently touched your back as if you would disappear if he wasn’t careful enough. He hadn’t realized how long he had stood there mesmerized by you until you cleared your throat.

“Um, Klaus?”

“Hmm?” He shook his head, his mind registering that he still held your shirt in his other hand.

“You ok?”

“Yes, sweetheart. Apologies, I just got lost in your beauty for a moment.”

You laughed nervously and looked at the ground to hide your furious blush.

“Here,” Klaus said gently and brought the shirt over your head, sliding his hand down your arm. Goosebumps raised on your skin feeling his soft touch. He helped lift your arm and then tracing his fingers across your back he moved to the next arm. Pulling your shirt down slowly, it teased him and hid your body from him once again. You turned around to face Klaus and for a moment you stared deep into his eyes. He grinned at you, dimples appearing on his stubble covered cheeks. Leaning forward you wrapped your arms around his torso, taking in his warmth and calming scent. He hummed and you felt his chest vibrate. It made you smile and gave you butterflies rampaging around in your chest.

“Let’s get you to bed, love.”

Stooping down he picked you up bridal style which made you gasp in surprise. Walking over and setting you down in bed, he covered you up with the soft blanket. He turned to leave before you stopped him.

“Klaus?” He turned around, his face poised in question.

“Will you stay with me?”

“Of course.” he smiled and went to sit down in a plush chair.

“No, Klaus.” you lifted the covers and patted the bed, “With me.”

Klaus’ face broke out in a beaming smile and crawled into bed with you taking the covers up with him. You sat up slightly to let Klaus slip his arm around you and you hummed in content upon feeling him against you. You both rested in quiet comfort and peace until you broke the silence.

“Do you think I’m a monster?” You asked quietly.

Klaus pulled you in closer and tilted your chin up to meet his frowning face.“Not one bit, love. And don’t ever let anyone tell you that you are.”

Your face scrunched up and you could feel a silent tear roll down. Klaus rubbed his thumb over your cheek to whisk the lone tear away. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, you are absolutely stunning. Sweetheart, you are a shining star that out glows all the others, you are a gift from the heavens. Your mere presence is as calming as the roaring tide of the sea. Your smile brings joy to all who witness it and your laugh is the most beautiful song that everyone wants to sing along to because it is so contagious.”

Another tear fell down your cheek, but this time from peace. You scoot closer to Klaus until your head was resting on his chest. You closed your eyes as he started to play with your hair.

“I love you, Niklaus Mikaelson,” you whispered.

And with that you were asleep. Klaus felt stunned and elated at your words. He ran his fingers through your wavy hair and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“And I love you, my sweet angel. Sleep well.”

You smiled in your sleep feeling his chest vibrate against you.

@katherinesbtch @rome5683

#klaus mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #tvd fanfiction

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wpdarlingpan · 3 years ago

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hello, just wanted to tell you how wonderful your work is, keep it up and keep rocking :) I was wondering if you could do a yandere Peter Parker x reader oneshot where the reader has powers and she's completely badass? But she kinda has self esteem issues and thinks her feelings aren't important. I'm sorry if I made you sad TvT

I will try my best! And thank you so much for the compliments ♡

Silent Shadow. That’s what she was. At least that’s what it was before the Avengers came. She was a assassin for a group called Hydra. Hydra was all she knew and that’s all she thought there was for her. She was there strongest asset, she was even able to rake down the Winter Soldier. She had beaten every hydra agent in a fight and she had many skills. You’d think she would just run away since she was able to overthrow them but Hydra made sure she would have no one to go to outside of them so they killed her parents and took her. She was alone. At least that was until she grew a relationship with her partner. A platonic one. She thought she had no one.

Until the day they showed up.

“Cap, how’s it looking out there? Need Code Green?” Bruce said from inside the quinjet.

“No, I think we are good Bruce. Tony is taking out the rest alongside Thor. Guess this base wasn’t as important.” Cap replied through the coms. It was true. It was a pretty easy mission, that was until they went towards the cells.

Bucky Barnes alongside Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver got rid of every Hydra Agent in the cells. At least the thought they did until they reach the very end cell with a complex lock. Bucky nodded at Wanda and she quickly used her powers to undo the lock.

Once inside they see a girl. She looked around 16 years old. Bucky froze.

Another assassin.

He knew her.

He rushed to the cyrochamber and opened it to the dismay of the team. They didn’t need another Hydra Soldier to deal with but he was not going to leave her in there. Steve walked into the room and saw him opening the chamber.

“What are you doing Buck?”

“I’m getting her out of here.” He spoke leaving no room for arguments.

“What if she’s dangerous?”

“I know her. She was my partner. She never wanted this. She always fought.”

“How do you know she will still fight?”

“I don’t.”

and finally it was open and he grabbed her then made his way back to the quinjet. The team that didn’t go to the cells were already there.

Tony was the first to notice Barnes carrying a girl.

“What do you got there?”

“...” Bucky didn’t respond. He wouldn’t explain back at the compound. He just wanted her to wake up. He wanted his little sister back.

Back at the compound

Her senses slowly came back to her and she woke up to her hand resting in somebody’s. She opened her eyes and saw.... Bucky! She lightly shook his hand making him shoot up.

“Doe!”

(I thought Doe would be a cute nickname since it forms from the only name they know which is Shadow.)

“Snowy!” She said happily. She was free. She was with her older brother. Everything would be okay.

And it was. For awhile. They took a blood test from her and found out she was Tony’s missing sister who was taken after the car crash with her parents. Her name was Y/N but some still called her Shadow or Doe in Bucky case. She didn’t blame Bucky but he sure blamed himself but he wouldn’t let himself cut her out of his life because of guilt. She developed relationships with the team. Tony and Bucky were her protective older brothers, Steve, Bruce, Clint and Thor were like uncles. Natasha was her aunt. Pietro and Wanda were like siblings. Then there was the day she met Peter. She had finally worked back up her courage and bravery, not to mention her cunningness. She was herself again, just more confident than before the accident. She walked around in stride, almost matching up to Natasha. She would work on her powers with Wanda and then make sure to spend time with her family.

He had come over to the tower after hearing about the new person at the tower from Tony. He had invited Peter to come over and meet his sister, Peter being addicted to pleasing his idol said of course and made his way over.

He was of course expecting a older woman since he knew Tony’s parents had died many many years ago, he was not prepared to see her.

Peter made his way up the elevator of the expensive tower after telling Jarvis what floor he wanted to be on. The elevator opened and there the team was in all their glory sitting on the couch waiting for him and the other guest to be ready.

“Hello Man of spider!” Thor boomed loudly as Peter stepped out of the elevator. Peter waved shyly at Thor and the others followed with their hellos. After a little more waiting Tony was impatient and called his sister to come down.

“Alright, Alright I’m coming! I didn’t even take that long! It would take longer to say your full title thing you like to say about yourself. Isn’t Genius, Billionaire Playboy, Kiss ass?” She smirked as she walked into the room. Peters eyes widened.

She was Tony Stark’s sister?

“Who’s did you want me to meet?” She questioned her brother as she smiled at him cheekily after forgetting the name of the person for the billionth time.

Tony rolled his eyes but he couldn’t stay mad at the sister who came back miraculously from the dead.

“Peter meet Y/N my little sister and Y/N meet Peter Parker aka Spider-boy.” Tony introduced and Peter stepped forwards almost in a daze and held out his when to shake formally.

“Nice to meet you.” Y/N said cheekily as he continued staring. He lightly shook his head and blushed embarrassedly.

“Nice to meet you too.”

She was more confident now away from hydra and he liked her personality.

And it truly was because that was the day that started his obsession with the one and the only

Y/N Stark.

He always came over to the tower to hang out with her as they had grown to be friends but Peter wanted more. Sometimes he came over and stalked her outside of the windows. Peter had hacked the tower from the inside to not detect him as Spider Man on the outside of the tower. Whenever he was in her room he’d touch everything he could and he secretly undid the latch to her window. He snuck into her room every night just to watch her sleep, watching as her chest raised and called from her steady breathing . He took pictures of her whenever he spied and had a secret collection of them filling his closest. He had even entered the room when the other Avengers had decided to run to the store for groceries dressed in their typical jacket, sunglasses, and baseball hats disguises. He cuddled into her blankets and breathed in her scene as he held into her pillow.

He was undeniably in love with Y/N Stark.

And he wanted her to be his.

His plan was soon put into action. He knew her schedules, wasn’t too hard she was required to stay at home as it was too dangerous because of Hydra.

One day he just got lucky, the team had to go out on a mission and she was required to stay home but Tony didn’t want her by herself so he called his trusted intern, Peter Parker. He was asked to go over to the tower to keep Y/N company and he immediately said yes.

And the day started off as usual for Y/N. She woke up and had breakfast, then sat by the tv watching her favorite show Once Upon A Time. She always like watching it because the character Jefferson reminded her of Bucky. She was halfway into episode 16 when Peter arrived in the Elevator.

“Hey Peter!” She called from the couch. She didn’t even look at him. It made him slightly mad. He should be her one and only. Not the stupid tv show.

“Hey Y/N.” He replied after he got over his anger.

“What do you want to do?” She questioned looking at him with a eyebrow raised.

“There are so many things I’d like to do.” He thought to himself but restrained from saying.

“It’s up to you.” He replied shortly continuing to think through his plan. He was confident it would go right if he followed each direction.

They went to the gym and she began to work on her powers while Peter watched her intently. He needed to know her powers if things were to go south with his plans. She first turned invisible then made force fields.

She continued to make the force fields bigger and Peter had to continue to back up to avoid getting hit with it. He began to get too far away. He also didn’t want her to thing that she could push him away like this.

“Y/N stop. You need to get food in you before you continue practicing. Your low on energy.” He faked looking concerned in order to manipulate her to feel bad. Of course she was usually defiant but she just wanted Peter to be happy. So she gave in.

“Alright.” He nodded in praise at her giving in. He knew how to get her now. She needed to please others. Probably a side effect from Hydra but it could be used to his advantage.

They then began baking... well more like Peter while she watched he made her sit down after he was worried about her burning herself. She needed to be taken care of. He also didn’t need her catching onto his plan, taking a pill out from his pocket and crushed it onto the cupcake he was going to give her. It looked like sugar. After being at hydra you’d think she would check her food before she ate. But she didn’t. She had to trust Peter of course. That’s what her brother wanted from her. She felt bad not being able to help around the tower. She felt as if she wasn’t contributing enough. Y/N thought it would help if she did what she thought was expected of her, not what she wanted. She wanted to bake. But if Peter didn’t want her to then she couldn’t deny it.

Then they watched tv but Peter hated it because again her attention was somewhere else. Halfway through Star Wars he turned off the tv and waited for it to work.

Just as he looked at her he could see her eyes be going to droop.

“Oh Y/N are you tired?” He questioned with fake concern.

“Oh, I am. Just a little bit. I slept well last night-“ she was cut off by a yawn. “I don’t know why I’m so tired. I’m sorry Peter. I knew you came over to hang out.”

“It’s fine Y/N. Just got to sleep.”

Just as he said that her eyes shut and he smiled victoriously. She was his. And she wasn’t ever going to leave.

He picked her up bridal style and took her into her room and sat her down on the bed while he changed into his Spider-Man uniform and packed her some clothes. They wouldn’t be coming back here. After packing clothes into a small back pack he picked her up once again and they went swinging out of the tower with Jarvis not even alerted because of Peter hacking it before to not detect his suit.

He arrived at a small house in the middle of the woods and carefully opened the door and brought her inside. Peter glanced around the rooms just in case then sat her in the bed, attaching a chain to her ancle. The clasp part of the chain had a little padding so it wasn’t hurting her but it did keep her there. He kissed her on the head and quickly changed out of his suit. Then got into the bed wearing boxers climbing in next to the sleeping girl. He wrapped a arm around her waist and sighed content.

She was finally his.

The Avengers got back to the tower and saw no one there. No struggle. Nothing.

Tony Lost his sister. Again.

Bucky lost his little sister. Again.

And

Peter had taken the love of his life to be all his.

At least until they check the tapes.

Sorry it’s taken me forever to write this. This was my first shot at a Yandere and I hope it’s good. Sorry if I should have done less back story and more Peter but I hope you like it. Anyways thank you for the suggestion. ♡

#peter parker #yandere peter parker #bucky barnes #tony stark #spiderman #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #Peter Parker x Stark!reader

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pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years ago

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νοσταλγία (Chapter 19)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: This is a retelling/romantization of the Greek myth of Persephone’s abduction with Ivar as Hades and you as Persephone. The Reader character is a Byzantine woman, follower of the Greek Pantheon/Religion, and a devoted follower of Persephone. This takes place after 5A, but the universe of this is a little changed in relation with the series, of course. Thank you for giving it a chance, hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: The usual, human sacrifice, that’s an added one for this chapter

A/N: Hiiii, hope you like this chapter! The wedding is finally here lol, hope it doesn’t dissapoint :)

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @toe-vind-ek-jou @xbellaxcarolinax @pieces-by-me @angelofthorr @samsationalwilson

Whatever it takes to escape. Whatever it takes.

You mull over Ubbe’s words as you wait for the thralls to come fetch you, to come wash and dress you, to come drag you down to make you Ivar’s wife.

The soft knock on your door is all the warning you have, before the meek girls slip through the door. You are familiar with them, not only because they’ve been the ones to care for you ever since you were given a place to call your own in this realm of cold, but because since you woke up this morning they’ve been coming and going, preparing your bath and tending to your hair, dutifully flocking around you in a manner you don’t have the heart to tell them is annoying.

Behind them, Freydis walks in, and you meet her gaze with wide eyes.

When the King lowers his guard and loosens what you call chains…

She only smiles calmly at you, greeting you with a slow blink and careful hands crossed over her stomach. The perfect picture of a maiden, and it unsettles you.

“Freydis.” You breathe out, and she bows her head with a murmur of your name in return. Her eyes trace your room, stopping on the planters and the plants you’ve managed to make blossom under your care.

She distracts you with simple topics of conversation while the thralls take care of your skin, of your clothes, of your hair. You feel her blue eyes settle with calculating interest as she watches you stop the girls and refuse to let them braid your hair, but says nothing.

They fasten the elegant red dress -the King’s choice, apparently- on you, and after quickly brushing your hair so it falls loosely down your back, one of the thralls moves to leave the room to fetch something, but Freydis’ voice stops her.

“I’ve got it.”

You turn around and find the blonde holding a delicate wreath of wildflowers in her hands, offering it to you. You blink and the breath leaves your lips as if a giant weight was dropped on your chest.

“W-What is that?”

“A wedding crown.”

You shake your head, stepping back.

“N-No, that’s…that’s…” Your panicked breaths quicken, your eyes find Freydis’ with what you are sure is a plea written in them.

“It means something to you, doesn’t it?”

You laugh bitterly to yourself, lifting your gaze to the wooden ceiling and wondering why you are still surprised Fate manages to be cruel to you.

The Hiereia brushes your hair back with gentle fingers, her bracelets clanking against each other and making crude music against your ears.

As she starts weaving your hair to hold the flower crown, you look into the mirror. For a moment you see a flash of red veiling your features, but when you blink it is gone.

You can remember the first time they put such a crown on you, your mother’s soft touch guiding the girl of barely six years into her first sacrifice.

“You feel Despoina’s touch upon you, don’t you?” Mother asked, a smile in her voice you can remember even today, even ten years later.

“I feel…” You couldn’t find the words, and you can’t now either. “I don’t know, mother.”

“It is her hand reaching for yours,” The Hiereia explains quietly, without any prompting, as if she too can glimpse into a past long gone. And the dried pomegranate branches make rustling sounds on your ears as she fixes the crown. “You wear the crown of flowers worn by the maiden she once was, and after tonight you bear blood to honor the crown of death and iron Lord Hades placed upon her head.”

The weight of memories, of grief, of nostalgia, burdens you more than it should. The woman at your back notices, and puts heavy hands on your shoulders and her mouth by your ear.

“Chosen by Persephone,” Hearing that name still makes a thrill run down your spine, and the title that she invokes hardens your heart but makes your soul sing. “You have nothing to fear.”

You didn’t notice your eyes lowering to your hands, but the Hiereia’s soft touch under your chin, making you lift your gaze to the mirror again, forces you to face the crown they have placed on your head and the thirst for something other than flowers that comes with it.

You look down at yourself, at the hands you are wringing together, and force your lungs to take a deep breath. You are tired of panic, you are tired of wanting to run knowing you can’t, you are tired of struggling.

You are tired, still far from defeated, but tired.

Closing your eyes, you try to center yourself, and trust. Trust in your mother, in her wisdom and in her protection, trust she had a reason for guiding you to Ivar’s side. Trust in her Gods, the Gods that she asked to protect and guide you even if you didn’t worship them, trust their hand in taking you here means there’s a purpose for you at Ivar’s side. Trust in your Gods, trust the deities you dedicated your life to wouldn’t fate it that you are defeated, trust Persephone, trust that she wouldn’t forget you when you haven’t forgotten her.

Trust Ivar, trust he can be a good husband, trust he will not try and silence you like many have before, trust he will never ask that you lower your gaze.

Trust yourself. Trust that all you survived means you can survive this, trust that you can and will fight for what you are owed, trust that no binds and certainly no men can keep you from the victories you are owed.

You take it from Freydis’ hands, and put the crown on your head yourself, raising your chin and straightening your back.

The view outside the small window shows you the kingdom you are to call our own now, but beyond it the horizon lays, the place where the skies meet the sea, and you allow yourself to feel at ease as you are escorted by Freydis to wherever it is she will take you.

____

A part of you that doesn’t hold a pit of dread growing in your chest, would have no qualms in saying the opening where they arranged for the wedding to take place is beautiful. Foreign, intimidating, Viking, but beautiful.

The sky has started to darken, and there’s carefully placed torches granting light to the ample circle where the people there to witness the union and the Völva stand.

They don’t need to tell you or guide you, you know you are supposed to walk towards the man you are supposed to marry, who stands before the witch in formal but still imposing clothes.

Leave it to him to get married in the closest thing possible to armor.

You bite down a manic smile at your own observation, and with a deep breath and a straightening of your back, you move to stand in front of him, with the officiant to your side.

A young girl is walked to the woman, and with no hesitation she signals for the women that assist her to tie the girl to a pillar behind her, a pillar you just now notice holds a container underneath, like the vessels you used back home.

The girl doesn’t squirm, doesn’t shake, doesn’t cry. She looks at Ivar, looks at you, and closes her eyes.

She does scream when she dies, when the Völva pierces her skin with the odd-looking blade, but her pain, you hope, is short-lived, and the blood of the sacrifice is collected and, you assume, that part of the ritual is over, judging by the dimming of the beat of the drums somewhere at your back.

The witch turns back towards you, dress proudly stained with blood, and says some words about Freyja and Frigg, about Odin and Fenrir, about what we are all here for: a binding before the Gods themselves, of a woman and man.

Without hesitation, and frankly startling you a bit, the woman reaches up and grabs Ivar’s face between her hands, looking into his eyes.

“Do you swear before the Gods you want to marry this woman?”

Ivar’s eyes stay on yours, burning like Greek Fire.

“I swear.”

The woman grabs your face between her rough hands, forces your eyes to meet hers,

“Do you swear before the Gods you want to marry this man?”

Your lips have breathed an answer before your mind can remember the words you should want to say.

“I swear, before your Gods and mine.”

She smiles then, pleased and warm, and releases you. You waver in the place where you stand, and a tremor makes its way past your parted lips.

This just might be the choice, the title, the name, that breaks you; you think to yourself. Everything would be easier if he could make you hate him, if he could make you see only the man that captured you and forced you to be at his side. Everything would be easier if you hadn’t realized this isn’t a captor you will grow to resent, if your foolish heart couldn’t latch on to the glimpses of the man you met in Aneridge that you still see in Ivar.

Because you wish you could tell yourself the captivating and enticing man you met in that old Saxon city was a mirage, a deceit by the cunning King of Kattegat. You wish, for it would make everything easier.

It would make marrying him only the blindly followed orders of an arrangement your mother made, and not a choice you could see yourself making. It would make marrying him in the eyes of the Gods what makes you swear loyalty to him and trusting in him, and not your loyalty and trust what makes you swear to be his wife before the Gods.

You are to be his wife. You are his wife.

In the eyes of his people, in the eyes of his Gods, in the eyes of yours. In his eyes.

Just as in your eyes, he is your husband.

You meet the eyes of the man before you, and a tremulous smile starts to curve at your lips. It is a bit broken, a bit mad; but there’s rush of freedom in finding yourself with no binds in that brief instant where you say yes.

You accept the title, not because Sieghild made the arrangement, not because Ivar wanted you to, not because ten thousand Greeks laid their hands over their hearts and kneeled, not because your legacy asked you to.

Because you wanted to.

Ivar takes his hand on yours and puts a bloodied ring the Völva hands him on your fourth finger. The woman hums a pleased sound, and you watch as she dips a small bouquet of branches into the sacrifice’s blood.

With a precise movement of her arm she specks Ivar’s face with the blood, and his eyes close. When she turns to you, she hesitates and considers you for a moment.

You meet her eyes, a new kind of fear in your stomach, and the witch raises her hand over your head.

The drops of blood fall on the flower crown on your head, and she smiles, she smiles like she knows a secret you don’t, she smiles like she knows every secret you’ve kept.

Another sharp movement of her wrist and your face is speckled in blood as well, but you feel the weight of those few drops on the crown on your head as if they were as heavy as iron.

“Before the Gods you are now married.”

The people clap and cheer, the drums beat louder and so does your heart.

Your husband’s eyes open and meet yours, and you cannot hear anything else.

You will tell yourself later that it was the pressure of the eyes of so many of the people of Kattegat on you, you will tell yourself later that it was the knowledge of what a bride’s duty is, you will tell yourself later whatever it is that can make the burden lighter.

But now you just stand on the balls of your feet, close your eyes and sink into the kiss Ivar breathes over your lips. You let him steal the breath from your lungs as his lips move tentatively against your own, and the steadiness from your hand as you raise it and let it cup his jaw and guide his mouth to press harder into yours.

You will tell yourself later that his hand is rough and forceful as he grips at the back of your head, you will tell yourself later you do not feel tenderness when his fingers run through the tresses of your hair as his hand moves to your lower back.

But now you just enjoy the touch of his lips on yours, the feeling of thrill that goes all the way down your spine, the heat that pools low in your stomach.

And no crown, no title, no kingdom, could make you feel as powerful as you do when you part from the kiss and have Ivar chase the touch of your lips, swaying forward, as if entranced.

Your eyes follow the red streak your hand now adorned with a ring leaves on his cheek and jaw, a path downwards to leave your hand on his chest, the delicate ring still shining with the red of the blood.

You ride a chariot -his chariot- all the way back to the main hall, reminded starkly of your own people’s traditions and realizing once again the Fates truly toy with us all.

Before long, the doors are opened by smiling warriors, and a feast awaits. You cannot take your eyes off the two identical thrones that await you where there used to be one.

Ivar guides you to them, and turning to his -yours too now, you suppose- people, and with his hand still holding onto yours, he turns his head to look at you, what you could swear is pride and satisfaction written all over his expression and his posture as he seems to stand taller, before raising his voice and announcing to the crowded room, to the kingdom now laid before you,

“Everyone! My wife, and Queen of Kattegat!”

When you walk outside of the tent aided by Galla’s firm hands, you find that the elders, the families, the soldiers and farmers, they all greet you with warm eyes, with kind and relieved smiles.

It feels like home and yet all there is around you is unfamiliar woods, it feels like peace even if your home burns at your backs, it feels

“Everyone’s been waiting to see you,” Galla whispers with the smile that hasn’t left her voice or her face since you awoke, weeks into your escape from Eleusis’ flames. “You know, they are going to need a leader, someone that can be their guide, someone they can love and admire.”

“Galla, wh-…”

“Someone that follows our Gods, someone that is willing to bleed and die for us, someone that when Attica is ours again rules our home.” She says, and when you turn to face her, she presses her forehead to yours, a gesture of affection and trust since you were but children.

Galla pulls back, black eyes looking into your own and even if the weariness of weeks on the road, of nights spent in the woods as sentinel, set on her dark skin like an unshakeable mark of pain and loss; when she smiles you cannot help but return the gesture, tremulous as yours is.

The Carthaginian straightens, and with a certain and proud movement, brings her fist to her heart before bending the knee. You accept her pledge, and all those that follow as the people surrounding you repeat the gesture.

“Anassa of Attica. May the Gods bless and guide you.”

You look at all those expectant faces, you face all your failures and your victories, you bear the burden your legacy earned you. And you cannot help but think if your body wasn’t burnt and broken you would have run away by now.

The Vikings cheer and raise their voices and their cups, and you find yourself smiling in thanks and in reflection of what seems to be genuine celebration.

You once again sit at Ivar’s side, this time on a throne of your own, and this time you don’t let go of his hand.

____

The feast lives on around you, loud and cheerful and chaotic, and you toy with the still-bloodied ring that now adorns your left hand, trying to make out the subtle design underneath the blood.

“You’ve been staring at it for a long time,” Ivar interrupts, and you lift your head to find him looking at you with his head cocked to the side, “Do you not exchange rings in Greece?”

Your right hand clasps at the place where you always keep your mother’s old pendant hanging from your neck, before dropping it once you realize tonight you wear some fancy jewels you don’t care much for. When Ivar’s eyes follow the movement of your hand before lifting to meet your own, you realize he may know without you telling him what it means to be given a piece of jewelry at your wedding day.

“No, it is not our custom. I…Sieghild never told me, she never…she never talked about these things.”

“And what did you make of it?”

You wear the crown of flowers worn by the maiden she once was, and after tonight you bear blood to honor the crown of blood and iron Lord Hades placed upon her head.

“It was all…familiar,” You reply honestly, clearing your throat to dispel the hoarseness that plagued it as you spoke past the memories and the stories they try to tell you. “They told me you ordered for my dress to be red.”

“I like red,” Ivar replies, shrugging one shoulder, before bowing his head to you, “And you look good in it.”

“It is a bride’s color to my people,” You reply with a rueful smile, before chuckling to yourself, “The Gods entertain themselves with this, you know.”

Ivar only smiles, tranquil and honest, but doesn’t argue, and returns his gaze ahead.

Whatever it is you are about to say is interrupted by the approaching figure. You turn your head and straighten in the throne as Freydis bows before the two of you.

You only watch with wide eyes, and she raises her head and meets Ivar’s eyes.

“My King,” She smiles calmly, innocently, “Congratulations on your marriage. May the Gods bless and reward you.”

You watch Ivar’s profile, and only because you are looking for the reaction it is that you notice the barely-there change in his posture, the subtle part of his lips, the questions in his pale gaze.

Freydis manic eyes on yours, her hand reaching for yours but it feels like it grasps at your throat, telling you those that endure pain are chosen of the Gods themselves.

Ivar sets new chains upon you and with the certainty of madness whispers that you are the reward for a lifetime of pain.

The realization of who it was that told Ivar those things, that put those ideas in his head, it strikes you and leaves you watching the interaction with wide eyes.

You wonder, like the prideful and arrogant woman the Gods made out of you, what exactly is the story neither of them has told you. You wonder, like the jealous and foolish girl you’ll never admit to being, why it is they haven’t.

Unaware to your thoughts -or pretending to be-, Freydis turns to you and smiles again, but it is truer, freer, hungrier. You don’t know if you should allow yourself to smile back.

But you shake yourself out of those thoughts, telling yourself you have no reason to distrust her. Right?

“I was hoping to steal the Queen from your side, only for a few moments.” The blonde continues, meek and unsettlingly calm.

Ivar considers her with a side smile that says he doesn’t particularly like this game she tries to play, but after exchanging a look with you, he signals with his hand in permission.

You stand from the throne and walk to Freydis’ side with careful steps. Ivar stops you before you can get too far, his hand trapping yours and keeping you close to the throne.

You turn around with an easy smile playing at your lips, because…Gods, you are a fool.

“Wife.”

Priestess.

“Husband.”

Viking.

____

Soooo, hope you liked it! I have a lot a lot of feelings about Norse and Ancient/Byzantine Greek traditions when it comes to weddings. The red is a true thing, and funnily enough the Ancient Greeks had a tradition of having the groom drive a chariot around the home he was gonna live in with his wife (or smth like that, I’ve been slowly bled for all I’m worth in these damn finals so my value as a source is a little off atm), and a lot of lil details like that that if I included would have made thisa 10k monstrosity that no one wnated to read lol

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed and I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this! Also, the wedding celebration/night of course isn’t over, but I try to keep my chapters on less than 5k lol

Thank you, sending you all my love!! <3 <3

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #vikings #νοσταλγία masterlist

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prince-of-elsinore · 4 years ago

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More reasons to enjoy Season 12

Part 2 to this post

These are just my (mostly) not too serious thoughts on things I enjoyed about season 12 (which believe me, I do have criticism of, but not for this post) now that I have finished my re-watch of it.

- they unfridged the original fridged woman. bold move, good course correction

- Mick as a foil to Sam, Ketch as a foil to Dean. That's all.

- it's goddamn refreshing to have Sam and Dean on the same page most of the time! Like in 12x15 Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell, Sam has been keeping the secret that he's working with the BMOL. But the secret only lasts one episode, and when Sam realizes he needs to come clean, Dean doesn't blow up at him. Sam being honest and Dean being accepting of Sam's decision: both evidence of growth! And in 15x20 The Future, they're on the same page about not wanting to let Cass go with Kelly. They both think he's been brainwashed (b/c that is definitely what it looks like). I just like seeing them agree on stuff, ok?

- Sam embracing his life and feeling comfortable with himself!! I see this season as a turning point, especially for Sam. I don't believe he's simply been brow-beaten into accepting a life he hates; I think he's consciously choosing to embrace the good of what he does and to take pride in it. His relationship with hunting will never be the same as Dean's, but, like I said: they're on the same page. As he tells Mary in 12x14 The Raid--"I chose this life." This is mostly due to choosing Dean, more than choosing hunting, but in any case, it is a conscious choice and Sam is making the one that is worth it to him, the choice that brings him fulfillment. And he even sees new worth in hunting itself, in a way that is very much in line with his character, as he expresses in 12x18 The Memory Remains (which I talk about more here).

- and that newfound confidence and comfort with who he is allows Sam to take a huge step in 12x22 Who We Are. I was so proud of him when he says "I called you here" instead of "We called you here." Sam has always had an independent streak, and he's stepping out from Dean's shadow in a healthy way here. He's allowing himself to be an individual agent. I always felt that in the end, he needed something of his own to be fulfilled, more than hunting with Dean--either a mentorship or leadership position (both of which he gets in the late seasons). This is his first step towards that, and he's so capable of it! He is a badass and he leads the hunters to victory over the BMOL on his own.

- and Dean lets him!! This is a huge step for Dean too! Of course he's still worried about Sam (the "you come back" gets me every time), but he's not insisting on being there to protect him. He believes in Sam. He tells Sam he's ready for this, and when Sam hears it from Dean, he knows it's true. They need each other, but here we're seeing need of a healthier type--the way no one is an island, and we all need the love and support of our friends/family. They offer each other that, and it gives them the strength they need. I was so proud of Dean in that moment.

- ALSO so proud of Dean for, for once, acknowledging his own needs. Trying to save Mary is the right task for Dean--he'll never give up on family. But in the process, he speaks some truths that needed speaking. Admitting that he was set up to fail in raising Sam, that his whole life has been so unfair. Letting himself feel resentment towards the family whose hold is so tight on him. But, at the end of the day, still choosing love. "I hate you. And I love you. 'Cause I can't – I can't help it. You're my Mom. And I understand... 'cause I have made deals to save the ones I love more than once." Dean understands better than anyone that sometimes love causes harm, but it's still love and who can blame a person who acts out of love? And the thing is, love can also redeem. And here, Mary and Dean, both of whom have made some terrible choices in the name of love, find their way back to each other through love. Dean gives Mary the forgiveness he seeks for himself. This is Dean at his best.

- and even Sam gets in on the action. He, too, chooses love, and forgiveness. The family hug at the end of Who We Are is EVERYTHING.

- ok Who We Are isn't the only good episode so I'm gonna backtrack to talk about some others, like 12x11 Regarding Dean--it's funny! It's sad! Carrying on a great spn tradition of episodes like Mystery Spot and Yellow Fever. The sticky notes are wonderful. Sam knowing Dean well enough to leave them in the trunk of the Impala, with a big "NO" over the grenade launcher. Dean holding up "Witch Killing Bullets" without saying a word. Pointing his gun in confusion at Sam, who yells and points, "Brother! Witch!" :)

- 12x12 Stuck in the Middle (With You)—who doesn’t love a Tarantino tribute? (Having just watched Kill Bill, I can certainly say I love it). And the return of the Colt! Crowley's "It’s amazing what some people just leave laying about." Snark king.

- 12x13 Family Feud—I want to write a longer meta about the theme of family and love and sacrifice in this episode, so I won't go into it here. But another nice thing is how united the brothers are in their anger when Mary reveals she's been working with the BMOL. It's the closest we get to addressing Sam's torture and violation at the beginning of the season. I get the feeling Dean isn't so angry b/c of what Lady Bevell did to him, but b/c of what she did to Sam, which makes me think he knows it was bad, and Dean supported Sam in whatever he needed after that, whether it was talking about it or just giving some space, etc. Love some defensive big brother Dean.

- 12x14 The Raid—Actually a pretty tense action episode. And Mick is cool.

- 12x16 Ladies Drink Free—The Mick team-up is fun (I like changing up the dynamics), as is seeing them stay in a 3 star hotel lol. Dean has some good moments that highlight his growth, too. His "I used to think the same thing, too" to Mick, as if it weren't already obvious that he's taken "saving people" more to heart than "hunting things." He's done a lot of work to evolve beyond who he was with the Mark of Cain and even before. He also makes it perfectly clear what he thinks of guys skeeving on underage girls, and it's nice the writers finally emphasize that Dean does not like that behavior. He's past the point in his life where he'd make a joke about cheerleaders being legal (back in season 4. Quick digression: that's definitely a gross thing to say, but I always saw it as performative more than a declaration of intent. He puts on what he thinks macho guys would say. Not that Dean doesn't oggle what he likes, but one thing has always been very clear to me about Dean--he's a fan of enthusiastic consent. Anyway this should probably be a longer post b/c I could talk about Dean and performative masculinity and sexual attraction ad nauseam so I'll leave it there)

- 12x18 The Memory Remains—I've already gone over in my previous meta what this ep says about legacy, but there are other fun things about it. Like a Goat-headed monster! Man, how long has it been since the bros took on an urban legend like this? Like... any since freakin' Bloody Mary? Also Dean being cool with the kid smoking weed. You just know he likes to light up sometimes. Man, I need more weed-smoking Dean in my life

- 12x20 Twigs and Twine and Tasha Banes--this is a good fuckin ep. Finally, someone else on this goddamn show is allowed to be as codependent and unwise as Sam and Dean, and isn't punished for it. Let Max keep his wood-puppet sister! (Wow I KNOW it's really fucked up b/c I guess he can control her, too, but damn if it isn't fascinating. And sad. I hope they figure out some way to restore her autonomy) I stan two (2) codependent witch twins

- 12x21 Something About Mary--I'm a sucker for the silent communication and flawless telepathy as Sam and Dean find the bug and lay the trap for the BMOL. And that letter from Eileen :C (Even if her thing with Sam leaves me cold, I'm glad she got to come back to life b/c she sure didn't deserve to go like that)

- Ok one more thing about Who We Are--I'm a sucker for the angst of them thinking they're gonna die trapped in the bunker. And then Dean comes through with the grenade launcher, AND gets out the hole before it caves in. BAMF. I love that they saved themselves rather than some deus ex machina. No Supernatural interference necessary. Not even any deals with reapers, etc.

- I lied, one MORE thing about Who We Are--Sam doesn't take the bad deal Hess offers him (to help with Lucifer)! Once upon a time, I believe that Sam would have been so scared that he'd take the deal with the snake, masking his fear and foolishness as pragmatism. But he knows his own worth now. He knows he doesn't need the BMOL, terrified as he is.

- Finally, it was sad to say goodbye to Crowley in the finale, but it was a worthy end. You'll be missed, Fergus MacLeod.

#spn meta #spn season 12 #my meta #spn

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bytheangell · 4 years ago

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ByTheAngell’s Shadowhunters Bingo Masterlist

(a complete list of my bingo fills for @shadowhunterbingo, check out the collection on AO3 for all the wonderful fics from this event!) Taki’s ~ Could’ve Been, Should’ve Been (Maia/Bat, Clary): Clary wanders into Taki's, and it gives Maia a momentary picture of how things could've been... how they should've been. Mermaid AU ~ Hold Back the River (Simon/Maia): Maia's research turns up more than the usual analysis, and she's left suffering the consequences of something she doesn't fully understand. Thankfully, she doesn't have to figure it out alone. Inter-dimensional Travel ~ To Fall Again (Jace/Simon): Simon Lewis didn’t think moving on was possible. He didn’t think he’d ever be ready to fall in love again. It’s a good thing life rarely waits until you’re ready. Fairytale AU ~ once upon a time... (it was made for us) (Clary & Jonathan): Princess Clarissa Fairchild dreams of a boy in a tower, one who calls to her for help night after night. Every time he calls out to her, begging for help, asking him to save her.She isn't going to let him down. Enemies to Lovers ~ I’ll See You When the Violence Ends (Isabelle/Meliorn): With tensions rising between the Nephilim and the Downworlders, Isabelle finds herself inexplicably drawn toward the enemy... or rather, one in particular. Star Gazing ~ See the Day Devour the Night (Isabelle/Raphael): When Isabelle comes to visit, Raphael takes her out to one of his favorite places. There's a lot on his mind but he knows she'll meet his thoughts with a kind heart and honest opinion.Maybe he'll actually believe her this time. Wing Fic ~ All You Have to Do Is Stay (Jace/Simon): As Simon prepares to go out for Halloween, fangs and all, Jace considers a 'mark' of his own he's been hiding and wonders if it's time to show Simon... Drunk Confessions ~ Before You Came Into My Life... (Lorenzo/Underhill): Before they got together Andrew spent a month pining after Lorenzo frequenting a karaoke bar and singing the same song week after week. After Alec hints at it, Andrew decides to let Lorenzo in on those long weeks with an encore performance. Graveyard ~ Things We Thought We’d Never Be (Simon/Raphael): Simon visits his false grave on the anniversary of his 'death'. Potions Gone Wrong ~ The Fixer (Magnus/Alec/Jace): When Jace accidentally ruins a potion Magnus is quick to come to the rescue with reminders (both literal and figurative) that he's there to help catch him when he stumbles. Omegaverse ~ Form a Connection (Raphael/Jace/Simon): Jace, after years of taking suppressants to be able to patrol and hunt with the Alphas and Betas, finds his world turned on its head when a chance encounter with his True Mates brings everything about himself he's ever fought against rising to the surface. Seelie Drinking Games ~Matching More Than Jackets (Meliorn/Jace): Jace and Meliorn start working together more and more often... and when Jace has something on his mind, perhaps a few bottles of wine will give him the courage to ask, and get him an honest answer in return. Pentagrams ~ 5 Things to Put in a Pentagram to Summon Raphael Santiago (Raphael/Simon): Simon, desperate for any hint of what Raphael likes in an attempt to flirt with him, resorts to memes in a subtle attempt to trick the answers out of him. First Date ~ Second Chances at First Impressions (Clary/Jace): Not wanting Clary to be left alone for the holiday, Jace invites her to spend it with his family - and Clary feels right at home though she doesn't know why her time with the Lightwoods feels so natural. Doctor AU ~ Ahead of Ourselves (Magnus/Alec): A lot of the hospital staff thinks that Dr. Lightwood is a little heartless... but Magnus discovers he might just be as good at acting a he is at medicine. Seelie!Alec ~ I Don't Regret It If You Don't Regret It (Magnus/Alec): With their realms at odds, Seelie Knight Alexander Lightwood and Prince of Edom Magnus Bane know that what they have between them can't last forever... but that doesn't make it any easier when the consequences of their love fall upon them. Summoning ~ Trust Us (Magnus/Alec/Jace): To save a friend in need Magnus has to make a deal with a dangerous demon. What he isn't counting on is the demon demanding something not from him, but from those closest to him instead. Portals ~ Acting on Instinct (Ragnor/Raphael): When Ragnor finds himself injured and at the end of his magic reserves, he opens a portal to somewhere safe, someone he can trust.He isn't surprised to find himself waking up at Raphael's. Rivals ~ My Only Rival Is Within (Clary/Jace, Clary & Jonathan & Jace): Jace supposes, in a way, that he and Jonathan are ‘rivals’ in a sense... and that means staying with Clary calls for a very reluctant truce. Reverse Verse ~ Everything I’m Not (Gen: Clary, Alec, Simon, Jace): Jace grew up entirely mundane, unaware of the powers he possessed. Clary’s childhood was one of strict Shadowhunter training. When their paths cross it’s a twist of fate that neither are prepared for. Rituals ~ Where the Wild Things Make Sense (Magnus/Alec): When Magnus finds a wooden figure in the woods with familiar magic, he finds himself unexpectedly entangled in the life of a mortal he never even met before. Sports AU ~ A Few Good Points (Clary & Alec, Clary/Jace): Clary didn't imagine the first time she'd meet her boyfriend's brother would be standing across from him with a sword in her hand. Reincarnation ~ Cheating Death (Magnus & Ragnor, Magnus/Alec): Magnus is used to visions of Ragnor showing up when he needs him the most, and also when he doesn’t need him. Except this one isn’t as easily dismissed as the others. This one might be more than his usual projection... Witch/Familiar ~ Bonds Fated and Forged (Clary & Alec): When Clary comes to Alec for training neither of them could imagine the changes in their lives that crossing paths would bring.

#magnus bane #alec lightwood #Clary Fray #jace herondale #shadowhunters #Isabelle Lightwood #simon lewis #ragnor fell #jonathan morgenstern #meliorn #shbingo #elle writes a few deadbeat lines

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winchestermotel · 4 years ago

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The Road We Take

Chapter 1

Pairing : Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader x Sam

Warnings: fluff, smut, angst, loss of a loved, all kinds of kinky sex and stuff(we’ll see where it goes), nsfw, 18+, slow burn(hopefully)

WC: 2464

Summary: Y/N is a hunter who has just lost a father figure. Sunny took her in when her family died tragically and raised her. She grew up listening to Sunny go on and on about how good Sam and Dean were as hunters and as people, but she personally never met them. The only Winchester she met was John and she didn’t like him at all. Now she invites all hunters on Sunny’s contact list for his Wake. She can’t wait to meet the Winchester Brothers. Their meeting isn’t ideal, but it marks the beginning of a new chapter in Y/N’s life but where does this road lead to?

Assume all warnings apply to all chapters. Chapters will be individually warned as well.

A/N: Hi. This is my first fan fic ever so if you’re reading this THANK YOU but also, I would appreciate if you could leave some constructive criticism and comments on how you would like the story to progress. If you like it, share it with your friends as well😊

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Dean Winchester. Sam Winchester. You had grown up hearing these names. Best damn hunters in the world. You couldn’t wait to meet them only because Sunny seemed to have loved them. Sunny used to hunt with their dad, John. Well, Sunny taught John how to hunt, how to fight and generally how to hold his own and Sunny introduced Bobby to John as well. It was almost weird you and the Winchester Boys still hadn’t met or chanced upon each other until now, until Sunny’s wake. The Winchester Brothers were going to be your closest relation at the wake, and you didn’t even know what they looked like.

The pain struck again when you remembered. In all fairness, you had not forgotten, you were trying hard not to think. All alone in this ramshackle house in the middle of a forest. The once maroon wallpaper, covered in decades of dust, blood splatter and sigils coming of the walls had turned brown. The green fungus on the walls was slowly creeping towards the ceiling. Neither Sunny nor you stayed here long enough in between hunts to care much for housekeeping. If anyone thought the living room looked bad, they would faint if they saw the basement. The place you occasionally held down demons, witches, vamps, werewolves, sometimes gods or any manner of monster that needed some extra persuasion to talk. The 3 bedrooms were in no better condition however the kitchen was spotless. Sunny kept all work, killings and rituals out of the kitchen. It didn’t even look like a part of the house, but your favorite place was the rooftop.

The house didn’t have another floor, the rooftop wasn’t high enough for a very nice view, but it did look over the forest. You and Sunny had set up some lights and kept a small fridge and two very old recliners. The nights you both were back home this was where you both would spend most of the time but none of it really seemed to matter now because you felt all alone haunted by your own memories and now that he was gone everything in the house was screaming for attention. Everything reminded you of the man that took you in and raised you.

You had sent out messages to every hunter on all of Sunny’s phones, but you didn’t reply to anyone. Building his pyre, burning his body had left you exhausted both physically as well as mentally. You were hardly 5’0 but had built strength and stamina from years of hunting. At 25 you still had a decade worth of experience in hunting. You had made the arrangement for the wake which was mostly just booze, bacon and burgers. Now it was time for the hunters to show up.

The clock strikes 3pm and the hunters start showing up. One after the other. In half an hour, there was hardly any space to set foot. You didn’t imagine so many would turn up. When 6 more hunters turned up you were certain you would run out of beer. The hunters all made themselves at home. You kept making small talk. Everybody apologized, everybody had stories to tell you about him. After a while you wanted the beer to run out, so you had a reason to get out of the house for a second and breath. Couple hours passed and the general topic was way past Sunny. Some had passed out from drinking, some were still playing a drinking game, others were telling jokes or catching up after years of not seeing each other. You had to replenish the beer supply twice now, not that you minded but it was only 7pm.

The noise suddenly was too much, the smells were to potent, so you ran outside. You didn’t get far before you tripped and fell just a few yards away from the front door. You looked up at the stars and tears rolled down on your cheeks.

“Why did you leave me? Why did you have to push me to the side? Nobody would’ve cared if the werewolf ate my heart but look at all of these people. They love you. Why didn’t you let me save you , you bastard? You screamed into the nothingness.

You sat there as tears rolled down your cheeks when you heard a roar an engine nearing you. As you look up, you’re blinded by bright headlights. The car comes nearer and nearer. You’re not sure the driver can see you, but you don’t move. You’re not sure you want to. The car stops right in front of you and the lights turn of. Because you had been starring right into the bright lights, now you can’t see anything, but you hear two doors creak open and you hear an angry man walking up to you.

“What the hell are you doing, lady? Tryin’a get yourself killed here?” you hear him speak as he comes closer to you.

“Dean wait….” You hear another voice. This one’s a little calmer.

The lights have somehow sent you into a trance because you can’t move. Every muscle feels a lot heavier. You look up to see two giant men towering over you.

“Oh…I..um..’’ you hear the angry man’s fury fade away as he looks at you.

“Here, let me help you up.’’ The other one offers you a hand.

You take his hand and stand up.

“Woah….’’ Is all that you can muster.

You were always the short one but these two were huge and because you were standing so close, you could hardly see their faces. Maybe you were tired from the day or drained from the crying, you lost your footing for a second and stumbled backwards when you pushed your head back to get a good look them.

“Oh hey, careful sweetheart. Are you alight?’’ He stepped forward almost immediately to help you, but you had already stabilized and nodded.

“My name’s Dean. This is my brother, Sam. We’re John Winchester’s sons. We’re here for Sunny’s wake.’’

“Oh, I’m sorry. My name’s Y/N. Please go inside. Make yourself at home. I’ll be there in a minute.’’ You said monotonously.

“You’re y/n? Sunny’s kid? Sam asked and when you nodded, he immediately hugged you.

You didn’t know whether it was nobody had hugged you or was it because he called you ‘Sunny’s kid’ you started crying again into his chest and his grip tightened.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s alright. Let it out. I’ve got you.’’ Sam almost whispered as he attempted to calm you down.

You step away and wipe your tears away and barely nodded to say thank you.

“ You alright?’’ Dean inquired.

“Yeah. I needed that I think. Come inside. Please.’’ You reply in a quiet and embarrassed voice as you turn around to lead the way.

‘They probably think you’re a stupid cry baby now. Quite the first impression.’ You think to yourself.

The second you open the door; every head in the room turned towards you.

“The Winchesters are hear!’’ somebody yells.

You think a fight is about to break out but in a matter of seconds you realize it’s more of celebration because everybody cheers them on as they step inside behind you. You’re not comfortable with the whole situation.

“This is about Sunny. This about remembering him. This is NOT about your petty little drinking games or playing catch up.’’ You yelled as you opened a door that revealed a staircase behind the living room and went up.

It wasn’t a very cold night but the thought of Sunny never being up on the roof top made you shiver.

“Mind if I join you?’’

You turned around and saw Dean walking towards you.

“Hey….’’ Is a you can muster.

“ I’m not gonna ask if you’re okay because I know you ain’t doing so well. Beer?’’ he offered

“I’ll pass. And yeah not doing so well. The guy who was the closest thing I had to a father died 3 days ago, saving me from a werewolf. I had to build his pyre, burn his body and now I have to look at his friends having the time of their lives in his house. So, you’re right, I’m not okay!’’ you almost yell at him.

“Hey. Look. I’ve lost my fair share of family. Hell, other than Sammy I’ve lost everyone I loved. I even lost him a couple of times, but life doesn’t stop. I know it’s hard right now and it never get easy, but you move on. So, we keep grinding. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how hard it gets, you got to keep grinding. And that's how we keep fighting.’’ Dean replies in a firm tone.

“Dean….he was all I had. He gave me this life. There’s nothing else I have. After my family, he took me in. Now that he’s gone I…...’’ You break down in tears again.

You feel Dean wrap his arms around you. There’s a comfort in his hug but somehow the tears don’t stop.

‘yeah, now they’ll definitely think I’m just another emotional bitch’ you think to yourself. ‘Awesome way to embarrass yourself!’

“ It is okay. You have me and Sam now. It’s what Bobby and Sunny would have wanted. You got us now. You ain’t gonna be alone ever.’’ He soothed. His hand rubbed your back.

Without breaking out of his embrace, you looked up into his eyes. They were green. He was very tall as well but not as tall as his brother. The freckles scattered over his face added to his persona. He was a very handsome man. You could see hints of his father in his face. High cheek bones, the green eyes, the way he talked had the ghost of his father.

“Do I have something on my face?’’ he smirked.

“No….you’re….’’ You weren’t sure whether you wanted to tell him what you really thought.

“ I know I’m adorable.’’ He stepped back and you could swear he pouted

“Someone’s cocky!’’ you smirked.

“Y/n, the people downstairs meant a lot to Sunny and us hunters, we’re messed up. But the fact that they dropped everything and drove here from all over the country to be here is the most they can do to show they cared. You need to get yourself together, go down and raise a toast to Sunny. Now they’ll be leaving soon but Sammy and I’ll stick around for the night…..if you want.’’ He tried not to make it sound like an order.

You turned away and looked up at the sky. You closed your eyes and thought about Sunny and a tear rolled down your eye. Taking a deep breath, you turned back around, wiped the tear and nodded.

Dean leads the way and you follow. When the other hunters see you coming down everybody is silent. The remnants of the emotional breakdown you had earlier still lingers in the air. Once in the living room, you can feel all eyes on you.

“I’d first like you apologize for whatever I said. I know what I said was wrong. You all are…..were as much a part of Sunny’s life as much as I was’’ You begin. “So many of you knew him as a friend, a buddy, a leader. He was a kind, loving man even though he would never admit it, he loved every single person in this room. I mean look at me. He took me in when he didn’t have to. The case was dealt with. He had no business sticking around but he did. Took me in when everybody refused to take me in. Hell, he died saving me and he knew nothing would survive that fall but he jumped at the werewolf, gave me an open shot and fell over the cliff.’’

You paused for a second trying to keep that ball that just formed in your throat from chocking you and your crowd cheers you on. They could feel your pain, but their cheer gave you strength to continue.

You continued “ Sunny died doing what he loved and there was no other way he wanted to go out. A couple days ago I gave him a hunter’s sendoff because he deserved nothing less. Sunny was tough, strong and stubborn as hell. The man did know how to cook though. He loved to cook. But his legacy will live in on all the lives he touched, the lives he saved and the love he gave to the people he cared about.’’ You raise your beer “To Sunny!’’

“ To Sunny!” everybody repeats unanimously.

After that things did become easier. You wanted to thank Dean, but you couldn’t see him or Sam. You moved around, talked to everybody else. Now you wanted to talk to them, you wanted to listen to what they had to tell you. Everybody appreciated the toast you raised to Sunny. You even spotted a damp eye or two, but you knew they would never admit it.

The crowd around you started thinning as the hunters started to leave. Soon, you were all alone again. Seeing off the last hunter you went outside. The black beast that you nearly let run over you was still parked there.

They’re still here. But where are they??

“Y/N up here!” you heard Sam’s voice.

You turned around and looked up. Sam and Dean were on the roof.

“ Come up sweetheart. Have a beer with us.’’ Dean smiled at you.

#spn #spnfandom #spnfamliy #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #misha collins #supernatural #supernatural fandom #supernatural family #fanfic #lovers #tragic

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Cruella: Does Every Villain Need a Sympathetic Origin Story?

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Clearly this isn’t your parents’ Cruella De Vil. This isn’t even your Cruella De Vil. However, there is something fiendishly charming about seeing Emma Stone charge into a ballroom and light her black and white dress on fire, revealing a chic red number beneath that would do Scarlett O’Hara proud. If fashion is a statement, Cruella is here to say the villain has just arrived!

Yet one can’t help but shake the certainty that by the time we actually learn the plot of Disney’s Cruella reimagining, Cruella will be in anything but black and white, or fiery red. Rather Cruella is obviously posturing to take a sideways approach to an old classic. But then again, that increasingly feels like the only direction these Hollywood redos know: the sympathetic origin story for an iconic villain.

To be clear, we’ve only gotten a glimpse of Stone as the new Cruella, and she looks absolutely fabulous in a black leather coat and cane, purring, “I’m only getting started, darling.” There’s a wildness about this interpretation befitting our current era where Harley Quinn is the hero of her own story, and Wade Wilson now leads a Disney franchise. Nevertheless, when I watch Cruella on the edge of tears in the trailer, barking defiantly that she is CRUELLA—and seemingly embracing an unfair reputation that other characters may be placing on her—a nagging question persists in the back of my head: Do we really need a sympathetic Cruella De Vil?

The trend of supervillains getting intellectual property-expanding sob stories is nothing new, be it at Disney or anywhere else in Hollywood. Maybe 25 years ago when folks liked their villains big and outlandish—think Glenn Close in Disney’s previous live-action remake of 101 Dalmatians—it was novel to see the antagonist become a tragic protagonist. But like everything else with modern blockbusters, that all changed a long, long time ago with something called Star Wars.

Back in 1977 when the original Star Wars movie was released, many audience members left the theater giddy about the world George Lucas created. In a galaxy far, far away, every pop fantasy of the mid-20th century—Wizards! Knights! Princesses! Samurai! World War II ace pilots!—was thrown into a massive cauldron that seamlessly blended these elements.

Luke Skywalker’s galaxy felt like a real place of exotic, lived-in locales, all of which captured that dirt-under-the-fingertips, tactile quality so rarely seen in fantasy stories. Sure the characters might be archetypes, but they came with histories which gave their fantasy space battles human density. Old Ben Kenobi fought in the Clone Wars with Luke’s father Anakin, who was “a gifted pilot.” But what exactly was a clone war? And why was there more than one of them? Also, what did a Jedi’s “more civilized age” look like for Luke’s papa?

For more than 20 years, no one knew the answer to those questions, which made them all the more intriguing, and the “lore” of this fantasy evermore mythic. Then came Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace, the first modern blockbuster prequel devoted to filling in the gaps left by a beloved classic’s mysteries. That movie’s problems are numerous, but at its core the most persistent, lingering issue may still be the reveal that Darth Vader was once a blonde haired little boy with the emotional range of Beaver Cleaver. Of course everyone knew in the abstract sense Vader was once a child… but did they ever really want to see it?

Additionally, did anyone really want to learn Anakin Skywalker’s reason for turning to the Dark Side is because of a bratty streak that followed him into adulthood? Probably not.

Nonetheless, all three Star Wars prequels made massive amounts of money and rather than becoming cautionary tales of what happens when you attempt to explain away all the mysteries of a beloved character, they were the first steps toward a modern staple of media regurgitation where seemingly every mug, pug, and thug would get their own sympathetic redo.

Since then, we’ve learned on screen that Spider-Man’s arch-nemesis Venom, is really a well-intentioned bloke caught in a bad romance (with his alien space buddy), Batman’s arch-nemesis the Joker is really just a Travis Bickle clone with mommy issues, and Maleficent, the reigning empress of badassery in the Disney Villain canon, was really just a woman scorned by Sleeping Beauty’s toxic father. Even Hannibal Lecter became a victim in Hannibal Rising, and the Wicked Witch of the West starred in the most popular Broadway musical of all time… where it turns out she was the hero in a conspiracy with the Scarecrow to pull one over on Dorothy.

To be clear, some of these spinoffs and reimaginings work quite well. Even if I personally am a bit chagrined at Todd Phillips’ Joker being nominated for Best Picture, Joaquin Phoenix’s sad sack killer clown created the space for a riveting performance that reminded mainstream audiences that movies can still be for adults. In another comic book movie, Magneto’s heartbreaking backstory in the Holocaust was expanded in 2011’s X-Men: First Class, which made an already relatively complex supervillain just that much more compelling in Michael Fassbender’s hands.

Overall, however, this approach has left something to be desired. And to get back to Cruella, her remix as a misunderstood tragic heroine appears to owe most of all to Maleficent. In 2014, Disney made a killing when they cast movie star Angelina Jolie as their very best big bad, a character so evil in 1959’s Sleeping Beauty that she was willing to knockoff a princess simply because no one sent her a party invite. That’s cold. And it’s wickedly entertaining. Hence why Maleficent scared and captivated generations of children.

Some characters are just too good at being bad.

The marketing of Maleficent leaned into this with a melancholic cover of Sleeping Beauty’s Tchaikovsky-inspired theme song, “Once Upon a Dream.” Now in a minor key, the new version sung by Lana Del Rey promised a scarier, more menacing version of the story, which was then confirmed by Jolie’s wonderfully devilish laugh. The big bad was finally going to have her day at the ball.

But when the movie actually came out, we learned that Maleficent was an enchanted fairy who’d been wronged. In the end, she didn’t hate Elle Fanning’s Princess Aurora. In fact, she loved the little royal and tried to save her from the curse she herself cast in a fit of justified anger. Ultimately, the sorceress adopts Aurora as the daughter she never had after disposing of her now abusive father. That’s certainly an interpretation. I guess.

It also proved massively successful in the short term, opening at a staggering $175.5 million in its opening weekend worldwide, and grossing $758 million total. Those numbers also exclude merchandising and home video revenues. If you want to know why we’re getting the punk rock Cruella, look no further.

However, did a lot of folks really like Maleficent? It made all the money in the world based on that devious marketing campaign that promised a shocking tell-all about Disney’s closest approximation to Lucifer, but by the time a sequel limped into theater five years later, relatively few seemed to still care about the misunderstood, freedom fighting warrior fairy Jolie played. Maleficent: Mistress of Evil ostensibly continued the good fight but flopped at the box office with a cume of $491.7 million, barely more than half of what its predecessor made. (Don’t cry for Disney though, as Avengers: Endgame, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, and remakes of Aladdin and The Lion King in the same year made Maleficent 2 look like a clerical error.)

What this whole sputtering franchise reminds us though is that some characters are better left bad, and the mystique of the unknown is an end unto itself. While I enjoyed Phoenix’s take on the Joker, there is little argument the character was even scarier with a PG-13 rating when he manifested out of thin air, like Beelzebub, in The Dark Knight. Or to take a step away from just villains, was Han Solo really any cooler when you learned how he got his name in Solo: A Star Wars Story? Or could you have gone your whole life without knowing thanks to The Hobbit movies that Gandalf and Galadriel were kind of, sort of, just maybe friends with benefits?

The allure of Cruella De Vil is right there in her name: She’s a cruel devil. How could she not be when her entire ambition in Disney’s classic 101 Dalmatians is to skin puppies for their fur coats? Finding out she used to fight the power before hoarding it may make a lot of money, but it doesn’t make her necessarily more compelling.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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tell-mi · 5 years ago

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By The Way - Part 2

After weeks of touring you met him again. But this time you both are aware of the tension with each other. And that's when a small second changed everything.

Warnings: smut, fluff, mentions of sex, language, sexy times

Your tour started in American and went on to Asia. You just landed in Tokio the last concert in asia. It was your eight's time in the country and still you cannot help but gosh over everything. Tokio itself was one of your favourite places to visit in march during Sakura but your Tourschedule this time only allowed to visit it in January. You decided to stay for another week until leaving for Europe afterwards. Soon after landing you had to directly drive to some photoshoots and an interview to your new film and album. There wasn't any time to relax the next two days as tomorrow was the big Tokio Concert.

At those beautiful days which allow you to fully feel the stardom which came with all the work you both loved it but missed your friends and family and someone to hold you in the evenings. You haven't had a relationship for over half a year since the split of your last relationship. The media always made you up with your co-stars or some other musicians which you were seen with during your collab for the new album but there never had been someone except Harry that one night. You cannot help but smile to yourself while thinking back to the moment your two bodies collided into each other and that moment afterward as harry told you how beautiful you are. It still gives you chills and a butterfly feeling in your stomach. "Berry, come one. Hurry up. We have to be at the Interview in half an hour and we didn't even started hair and make-up" Luna, your makeup artist and closest friend backstage demanded you. You were standing infront of the clothes which she picked out for you but the final decision what to wear was always loved to you. "Lunes I don't know" "What exactly don't you know? You have been somehow off for the whole last weeks." She leaned in to you and asked sceptically "Is there something I need to know Berenice Lopez? Did something happen to you?" "No, no Lunes...!" Luna didn't even believe you for one bit and raised a brow silently at you "Come on Luna, what's your problem. I am just off my thoughts the last weeks. I miss home and friends and stuff!" You managed to stutter to the girl who know you for so long you could tell she has becoming a good friend. "You need a man again!" "What?" "Urgently!" Luna turned on her heels and picked the golden jeans and a white shit witch a black blazer and held it infront of you. "Or if you want to borrow my little friend Carlos, just ask. Sometimes it can do magic, ya know?" "Carlos?" "Dios mios, my dildo Berry!" You screamed at Luna "Luna, you crazy piece of shit. You can't borrow me your dildo and what the fuck, why did you call him by a name?" You grapped the clothing from Luna's arm and started to dress up. "Because it always reminds me of Carlos. He was the best boyfriend I ever had. And you know...?" You sighed loud "I don't want to borrow something which is like your ex to you, oh good god!" Luna rolled her eyes at you and forced you down into the seat to do your hair. The both of your were smiling to each other within the morrow and soon cannot help but best out into laughter together.

***

The interviews went well and soon the evening got closer. You managed to make an Instagram story for your fans and post it just before you leave for your hotel. The nice thing in Tokio was the many people you knew. Your assistant tried to always book the same hotel. It was a small one in the city but run by a japanese family which welcomed you like their own family members and not hotel guests.

Soon as you were finished to head out to dinner with a pair of jeans, a black knitted pullover and a big red wool coat you hear your phone bing. A lot of fans reacted to your new photos and stories and a few messages were send to you. You weren't someone who had an assistant to run your Instagram account. You had fun answering fan question and do it by yourself. You ran through a few direct messages until one appeared which made your heart beat faster. Harry Styles

'You are in Tokio? How comes that I didn't knew 🤔?'

'Well hello to you too, yeah, tomorrow's the concert.'

'🙃 Nice! Maybe we can meet up afterwards. Been in Tokio for quite a few days and it will be nice to have a few common faces around. Besides I have missed you... '

You caught your breath. He is here? He misses you? You quickly checked his Instagram and saw a lot of photos from his time in Japan. He really seemed to have fun here. Being with friends eating some sushi or making music. You just realized how much you have missed thinking of Harry. Days after your first time together you had a so fully packed schedule that you didn't even had the time to ask James for his number to contact him. You felt his hands and his warmth weeks after having sex and your body urgently needed it again. You have been so desperate to see him again but at the same time so planned integrated that you knew it won't happen very soon, or ever again.

'Did you just asked for a date, Styles?😛'

'Call it what you want. You innit?'

'Si señor!' A grin flashed upon your face.

'You know what, If you could just give me your phone number I can talk to you more easily than via direct messages on Instagram :D'

You gave harry your number and within a few seconds he had called you. You two talked about everything what happened the last weeks. How excited you are to be in Japan. That you will leave for dinner soon and can't wait to eat sushi again. You talked about what took harry to Japan. You felt bad that it was because of a heartache. You knew that he just broked up with his girlfriend few weeks before your one night stand but it never came to your mind that you have have slept with each other because of that. It felt bad to not being there when he was so hurt. And now your night had a bitter taste but you didn't talk about that incident. It felt like you had been just two young agers who really adored listen to each others voiced on the phone. During talking you catch your assistants Marks in the lobby which almost seemed like a living room. You waved Mark and Luna hello while still on the phone. You never felt so good in weeks. Hearing Harry's voice on the phone made your whole body shake in happiness. Alone thinking of swing him again let your skin burn. "Alright Berenice, what was that call about and the better question with whom?!" Mark nearly shouted towards you while dramatically waving his hands upon your face like he had to raise you out of a dream. Luna just smirked towards you while you urgently begged her to say something. She knew exactly that she should help you and calm down Mark but she was too interested who it was on the phone to help you out. "It was a friend of mine. We didn't meet in a whole lotta time and it turned out that he is also in Tokio right now so we will meet tomorrow after the concert. You happy now?" You breathed out and stared at your two friends. Luna grinned like a mad cat "Finally, Berry gets to get fucked again." You where hit by surprise by Luna's words. "Lunes...you" "Gotta get you dressed right then tomorrow!" You just shook your head in desbeliefe but inside you really were happy to have your friend this time to share your heart with.

***

The dinner was fine, you got to laugh a lot. Luna took another selfie of you three and posted it with tagging you in. A lot of likes appeared directly. Also one of Harry. "Guess what? Harry Styles himself liked my photograph!" She said excited. "I never new that someone like him followed me." you almost choked on your cocktail and looked Luna and Mark deeply in the eyes hoping that they won't say another word. Mark sipped another time on his cocktail eyes still locked to you. "Is he the one?" "What?" You said hectically. "He is the one you talked to, isn't he?" Mark already knew the answer. He new you since 10 years now and he had gone with you through a lot of heartbreaks. So he could sense your heart beat faster this time again. You felt trapped and couldn't do other than smile and roll your eyes at the two of them. "Please don't judge!" Luna and Mark looked at you in desbeliefe. "I don't say anything, he is the hottest man around. So feel free to do whatever you want." Was the only thing Mark managed to say to you.

As soon as the evening ends you got a call from the organiser of your concert tomorrow. The time had to be switched two hours since there had been an electricity problem. The fans already had been informed but he asked you to also post something to get sure that each and everybody who has tickets for tomorrow is informed. You directly managed to film another video for Instagram but in the second you finished it, it hit you that the date with Harry won't work due to the new schedule. You nervously called him to explain everything. It felt so bad to tell him that you cannot meet so soon but his reaction hit you by surprise.

"Where are you now?" Was the only thing he said to you after you held a five minute monologue via the phone. "I am about to go back to my hotel but right now I am still at the bar with Luna an Mark. Why do you ask?" "Okay, will be there in ten minutes. It is only a few streets next to my flat." He hung up the phone and you cannot believe what just happened. "Guys" your head began to swirl. It was a few cocktails this evening but it wasn't only a tipsy feeling. It was an heavy excitement in your stomach. You felt like you were about to throw up. "What happened Berry?" Luna looked at you with a scared look on her face. Mark took you by your shoulders and shook you. "You alright sweets? Fuck you getting pale as the wall" You managed to get yourself together and stumbled. "You can leave, Harry will come and pick me up" "What?" Both your friends cried out. Luna shaked her head a no "I won't leave until he is here. Gotta make sure he treats you right, girl." Mark nodded in agreement "Yeah, whatever he wants to do with you, you have to be back tonight. Tomorrow is a tough day!" He sounded like a dad.

You three argued for about five minutes outside of the bar whether your friends should stay or go. "I need another drink. You all driving me crazy. I will go insane if I have to withstand this evening sober!" You cried out like a teenager standing up against her parents.

"Hope it's not because of me?" You turned around in surprise of his familiar voice. Harry standing right infront of you dressed up with a jeans and a to comfortable looking hoodie. He scratches the back of his head while smiling shyly at you.

"Hi" a really quiet greeting dropped out of you mouth. "Heya!" Harrys shy smile grew into a big bright one. He looked around to your friends not knowing how to behave. He begged you with his eyes to show a reaction but you didn't knew what to do. With a big step towards you he leaned in and pulled you into a soft warm hug. His head crawling into your neck he whispered a sweet "Damn, you smell so good!" The compliment let your legs shake. You could feel his hug tightening around your back. His head coming even nearer to your neck. You could feel his breath again. It hit you back to the night in the bathroom. You felt so hot. You turned red by the compliment. The urge to answer him came up but you don't know how to behave infront of your friends who looked at you in fully awe and surprise. "Alrighty, take care of my sis here. Aaaand no later than 12pm, right??" Mark demanded Harry as he loosened the hug a bit. Like a teenage boy who just got an speech from the dad of his crush he answered. "Sure that. By the way.." Harry reached his hand out to both of your friends "I'm Harry!" "Yeah, we know who you are" Luna teased him and bumped his nose with her finger. Fully surprised Harry looked at her and gave you a questioning look. She pointed at you "You two, have fun!" With a blink towards you she took Marks arm and both left.

Still surprised, Harry turned smilingly at you who shooked her head in disbelief of the behaviour of your friends. "I am sorry, Styles!" You giggled to him not wanting to see the reaction on his face, your hear on the street. "What was it? You need a drink?" His hands still touching your waist. His other hand holding you by your shoulders while his thumb running small circles against it. The two of you stood infront of the bar staring at each other while slightly turning red. You could say both didn't new what the next step should be. Should you lean in closer again or will it be better to separate? You began to chuckle not knowing why. Harry grinned at you surprised. "What?!" He laughed out loud. Still giggling "I don't know. Aaaactually.." "Are you tipsy?" Harry again leaning closer to you, his face nearly touching your face. You took a step back in impulse of his body coming nearer. "Stay here!" he grabbed you on your hips and pulled you right back, your bodies collided into each other. "Breathe on me!" His nose touching your nose. "What? Harry what are you doing." You cannot help but giggle again. "Didn't you say you cannot stand this night sober, Nikks? You aren't sober at all. How much did you guys have?" "What?" You got fed up by his questions. "Are you the booze police or what?" He grinned back at you "No, I am jealous that I didn't had as much as you!" You slapt his breast in an impulse. "Idiot!" You wanted to dissolve his hands still holding you tightly against him. You felt your two bodies too close to each other. You heart began to race so fast and you could almost feel his heart as well. His stare into your eyes was so needy. You didn't knew if you or Harry was the first one who forgot to breathe. "I swear Nikks, if we don't get inside and grab a drink right now, I need to take you to my place asap!" He took your head in both of his hands leaning in to a kiss. You let yourself go and pulled him closer. Your hands resting on his back while his still holding the back of your neck and curled into your hair. It was needy, it was passionately, both of you knew you were standing outside of the bar and each and everyone could see you now. But you didn't care. All you wanted to do right now was to feel your bodies against each other. You pulled back of the kiss "Soooo" you whispered out of breath. Harry took your hand. "Come!"

***

It took you a fiveteen minutes walk as you had to pause here and there leaning against a wall kissing each other. You asked how it took Harry only five minutes to get to the bar before. "Well, I haven't had a hot Latina distract me every ten metres" he leaned into another heated kiss, never letting go of you.

As you reached the door of his shared flat he pinned you against the wall again. Just like the last time. This time even more eager. He knew exactly what you want and how he could attract you. His hands teasing around the button and zipper of your jeans. Your hands beneath his hoodie as well. You grabbed the loop of his jeans and pulled him against you while he tried to unlock the door. Your hands now all over his body while you both entered the living room. You let him hectically get rid of his hoodie. Now standing infront of his bare chest you reclined back to the shut door. Only wanting to look at his beautiful upper body. "What?" He questioned you with a smirk wanting to come closer again. You pushed him away biting your lip. He looked at you in confusion, not knowing what to do. "Are we alone?" You whispered towards him. "Yeah, the guys are away for the next two days" he stared at you while you undress from your sweater and also the shirt. Only standing infront of him with your bra and jeans. You opened the jeans and let your hands slit inside your pants. Touching yourself right infront of him and moaning with pleasure. Harry was totally confused about what just happened infront oh his eyes but he was sure he liked it. A lot. He was watching you touching yourself for a few minutes. It made him so hot that he would have taken you without hesitation but everytime he tried to come nearer to you, you pushed him away. You wanted to tease him. You wanted him to look at you while you try to finish yourself. Biting your lips and looking at him with pleasure in your eyes he got so fed up by only watching than playing with you he cannot hold on anymore. Within seconds he pushed you to his couch and undressed you from your underwear. He put down his pants so quickly you can't even manage to register what happened. But in only a few seconds you were sitting on his laps kissing him and swinging your bodies in the same rythem. It went quick. You both hit your climax at the same time. Collapsing onto each other fully heated and sweaty. Both of you tried to catch your breaths until you managed to be fully sober on your thoughts again. None of you say a word and none of you were able to look into each others eyes. You already had sex with each other but this time it felt different. This time he was sober. You were not. You felt so ashamed about what just happened. How you behaved infront of him. You hectically got up from the couch and collected your clothes. "You don't wanna run away from me again right after fucking me, will ya?" You felt Harry behind you. His naked body tightly crashing against yours. His hands touching your body, touching your breasts. Slowly wandering down your body and pushing his back against you. The only thing you could do was grin to yourself in disbelief. "Mark said I should be home tonight" "I promise to bring you home safely tomorrow in the morning. Don't leave now!" His sloppy kisses down your spine made you nervous again. He turned you around in a second and pulled you into his bedroom.

#harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles story #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction

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slo-liveblog · 4 years ago

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Witch’s Heart: Bonus Stage Final Thoughts

Hello hello! Honestly I can’t believe I finished Bonus Stage after all this time... took me quite a few months, oof. Many thanks to the handful of you that stuck around during all that, and to the few new people who popped in too! Hope you’ve all been taking care of yourselves, and don’t mind the long post.

CHARACTERS

Claire: After finishing the first game, I didn’t know it was possible to love Claire even more. I was absolutely wrong. The way she took charge at the end was incredibly powerful and I’m so fucking proud of her, even if it’s sad as hell. I really really like how the game both criticizes and respects her unconditional empathy, I think there’s definitely room for both conversations and they’re both incredibly fascinating. I do think she suffers from some of the most writing pitfalls out of everyone, though. Like I said while playing, there’s really no reason given why she wouldn’t confide in Leon, or at least acknowledge that he’s likely the person there she can trust most. In addition, I found it really bizarre that Claire just... never tried to talk to Reynaldo or Sirius after learning about their pasts. Like, at all. I understand why the emphasis on Ashe was important, but it was jarring and kind of unsatisfying to see Claire act so uncharacteristically by not even really acknowledging them after their stories were over. It’s more of a story problem than a character problem though, I think, and I understand why it had to be that way especially considering the conclusions will touch on a lot of the missing pieces- I just wish there could’ve been more of a justification for it. The way her personality was explored through her interactions with everyone, and how other characters were depicted based on their reactions to her ideals, was incredible and I would die for her.

Ashe: Oh Ashe. Fuck Ashe. I do appreciate the depth given to his character, he’s definitely far more complex than I expected and kudos on that. I don’t really empathize with him as much as I do the other four mains, but I do think his writing is incredible and his relationships with Leon and Claire continue to be some of the most interesting to see play out, if not THE most interesting. Star shaped carrots man. Fucked up. Super excited to see how his dynamics with everyone continue, and he’s probably the character I’m the most interested to see make decisions going into these conclusions. His arc feels the most... unfinished, he’s never really reached any sort of closure at any point of the story so far and especially not bonus stage so it’ll be cool to see where he ends up.

Reynaldo: MY BOY. I’M SO FUCKING PROUD OF HIM... going into bonus stage my expectations for him were pretty much rock bottom from the moment I realized he didn’t have a single line in the opening scene outside of saying his name. Like, I kinda made my peace with the possibility that the writer just wasn’t that interested in developing him, and would rather spend time on the rest of the mains. But holy SHIT did he pull through in the second half of the game. The subtle but noticeable build to him deciding to side with Claire was so, so well done. I still wish there was a little more solidity to his characterization- I do have to reach way further to understand him than I do any of the other mains- but I think what we DID get for him was wonderful and god, I appreciate him so much. Definitely the character that improved the most for me from the first game to bonus stage. I can’t wait for his conclusion, here’s to hoping we do in fact get it this year. The way his similarities with Claire were set up makes me SO excited to see how their relationship develops when it’s actually the focus, and how he’ll be fleshed out more in general so we can finally have a clearer picture. Because to be honest, as much as I like the development he was given in bonus stage... there’s still a LOT of gaps to fill in with him.

Sirius: continues to be the perfect human being 1000000/10

Leon: Sweet baby boy whose expressions always make me cry. Leon is still a character I’m sort of on the fence on. Like, he’s very well written and easy to sympathize with. But I realized I’m always far more interested in how OTHER characters react to HIM than the other way around, though. He’s not really a character I personally would find interesting in general, he’s a little simple for my tastes, but that doesn’t mean I’m not 100% invested in seeing him end up happy... eventually. Something tells me it might be a while.

Charlotte: I feel like Charlotte definitely got the short end of the stick in bonus stage, moreso than any other character. Her only memorable scenes that I can think of off the top of my head were when she told Leon he could kill everyone but Claire, when she thought about how Ashe probably can’t be saved, and when she reacted to Claire after the completion of Ashe’s backstory. None of those scenes even come close to hitting the same level of intrigue or emotion as the sparse Charlotte scenes had in the first game, even if that last one does have some interesting bits in it. I said at the end of the first game that we’d only really scratched the surface and I was interested to see more from her and, well, my opinion hasn’t changed. I don’t think there was much I would’ve wanted out of her here anyway unlike the boys, so I’m not especially disappointed. Just hoping we get more excellent Charlotte moments somewhere down the line.

Zizel: I would’ve liked Zizel’s deal to be... a bit more built upon, to be honest? I could just have missed things along the way, but her triumphant moment is a little harder to get in to when we know almost nothing about her or the way she thinks beyond stuff reveled about her in the same scene. I could definitely see that her siding with Claire was being foreshadowed, but I think there needed to be juuust a bit more characterization given to her for that particular development to have the impact it seemed to be going for. Still, it was a good moment, and I think it definitely made up for a lot of the sore lack of Zizel in both games. Can’t wait to see what she does from here.

Lime: Goddddd. Okay look, I still love Lime probably more than I reasonably should. She’s wonderful and I love her design and her personality and her backstory and her motivations but... yea she’s a very very bad person. Bonus stage did really make it clear that she’s not just lashing out occasionally, and this isn’t anywhere near harmless teasing. She’s full on the primary villain of the game, in some ways, and has been doing pretty horrific stuff knowing (and intending for) exactly what she’s causing. Which we sort of knew in the first game anyway, but now it’s very explicit. And like, damn dude... I do wanna see what’s gonna happen with her. It’s tough, wanting to see a character get their comeuppance and stop hurting others while simultaneously just wanting good things for them. this really is how y’all ashe stans feel huh

Side Characters: I gotta say, I really loved a lot of the smaller characters introduced in bonus stage and the way their presence added to the development of the mains. Dorothy and Nicholas, the old dude and the thief woman (I didn’t actually realize until just now but nobody in Wilbert’s backstory had a name, huh. It may not have been intentional but considering that he might literally just not remember that far back I actually really like that decision.), and Ashe’s family and friends were really smartly integrated into the story’s themes and I appreciated that a lot. also lucy and coco rights

Overall This one gets a fucking 10/10 from me chief, some small issues certainly but as close to perfect as they get, in terms of the kinds of stories I like.

STORY

I debated breaking this up into chunks, like I did in the first game with the scenarios, but I feel like the writing quality is more or less consistent throughout the game so it would be a little redundant. I definitely need more time to think on bonus stage before I have a really solid opinion, but at the moment I kind of think the story was even better than the first game? My only major issue was the aforementioned use of Claire’s character, where she’d only really react to the boy’s backstories as she finished hearing them, with the exception of Ashe’s. And her not confiding in Leon. But other than that, it was a constant rollercoaster, with pretty much every scene being jam packed with 3000 layers of character development and relationship building with lore sprinkled in. The elements that were amazing in the first game, like the fun dynamics between the characters and the subtle and unobtrusive exposition, are nothing but improved upon. I do wish we got to play more with the idea of the demon girls living alongside the mains, I think that aspect was severely downplayed almost immediately after it was introduced, but I’m crossing my fingers those potential dynamics get some time in the conclusions. Once again, my biggest gripes with the story are just that I feel like there’s so much more to explore and I can’t wait to see how the rest plays out. still giving this bitch a 10/10 on this one it was everything I wanted and more

GAMEPLAY

Combat: This was kind of... not even really utilized in bonus stage, which I didn’t actually realize until just now. There weren’t any real “boss battles” in the way there were in the first game, the closest thing to it would I guess be Dorothy’s showdown. Considering I didn’t even notice, I think that was a perfectly fine decision. The climax worked well without any actual fights. The battle mechanics continued to be functional and everything, just... not much of a thing.

Demon Requests: It could just be because I played a lot of bonus stage at a very different pace than I did the first game but the demon requests didn’t feel as frequent or intrusive this time around. I was always really excited to get to the request portion anyway cause of the photo booth and all the cool new areas, I had a super fun time using the deep sea bubble and I think overall the stuff that was added to the fantasy spaces was really neat. also lucy and coco rights

Minigames: Very hit or miss. It felt like the minigames were either so quick and easy they were hardly memorable or so tedious they made me wanna die. Take that with a grain of salt, though, I’m really bad at video games. There were very few of them anyway so it doesn’t matter much, but I guess it would’ve been nice if the minigames were less... Like that. To be fair, they were all still pretty charming or cool conceptually. Can’t really complain about getting to fucking shoot people as Dorothy even if it was hell to play.

Overall The demon requests were actually really enjoyable this time around, but the minigames and combat were kind of downplayed. Not to big of a deal, though, it’s not as if they were a focal point of the game to begin with. 7/10

ART & SOUND

Character Design: Not much to say that I didn’t already say after the first game, but the special bonus stage outfits are absolute bangers and I wish they got shown more often. And maybe I would’ve liked the guys to have a little more variety to their suits. But that’s nitpicking, Claire and the demon girl’s dresses are absolutely gorgeous.

Sprites and BGs: The overall art quality definitely got shaky in places but I gotta say, they pulled out ALL the stops for the sprites in this one. Ashe just fully has an entirely new set of them, and everybody else gets tons of new expressions too, all of which are super super good at conveying incredibly specific emotions. All I’m saying is, this would be a totally different game for me without the sprites, and I was always ecstatic to see new ones and figure out what was going on in the character’s head based on them.

OST and Sound Effects: Again, pretty much the same deal as the first game. I think there was a bit of a higher frequency for songs that made me immediately want to search for them so I could listen to them later though, thank god for that. So many good tracks.

Overall Continued to impress me, and then some. Only a slight improvement from the first game, in my opinion, but even that is pretty impressive since I didn’t have many issues with the first game to begin with. 8/10

So uh, in other words, I really really loved this game. Cannot WAIT to start best boy’s conclusion!!!

#witchs heart #slo reviews #slo talks #LETS GOO

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mariamermaid · 5 years ago

Text

Dark Rituals

Draco X fem. Reader

Summary: In order to flee from their death eater families, the two young lovers search for a way out…

Words: 3.2k

Warning: Blood, dark curses…

Halloween Masterlist.-->

Come to me

In the night hours

And I can´t sleep

´cause thoughts devour

Thoughts of you consume

Your cold feet almost lost feel as you snuck through the corridors. The heavy book in your arms was dusty and the pages felt old and dry against you skin. You couldn´t allow yourself to get caught again, but you had to find him. Now.

You had a milder judgement, especially since Snape was director. But he knew that the other students shouldn´t become too suspicious. Your sudden friendship with a certain Slytherin boy was too much already. Times had changed. You caught a glimpse of the moon outside the walls of Hogwarts. In a few days would be full moon. It was now or never.

You waited patiently until the teacher had left the hall, then you toddled to the room of requirement, your breathing heavy with adrenalin. You didn´t knock and the sudden swung of the door, let Draco recoil.

“I thought you already slept.” He mumbled, his body sitting up on the satin couch. Your letter had caught him by surprise and then you had asked him to come at a time like this. He was worried.

“I think I found a solution.” You exclaimed and watched how his tired eyes enlightened by hope. You dropped the book onto the couch and sat down, searching frantic through the pages. Draco´s hand caught yours and made you look up again. Unlike you, he was still calm, he was always the calmer one. The one, who thought before talking, who, remembered the table manners. At least he wasn´t a disgrace for his family…

You sighed and pushed the open book to him, his eyes wandering over the words. Then you could watch how they suddenly grew big, then stopped at the very last words and his head slowly turned back into your direction.

You´d lie saying that you weren´t nervous. Hell, your entire body was shaking.

You proposed a risky spell with several consequences bigger than ever imagined.

“I´d understand if you don´t-“, he didn´t let you finish.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked instead, now both of his hands grabbing yours.

“I.. I don´t know, but it´s the only thing that could work.” You explained quietly, your eyes now searching everything in the room in order not to look at his waiting face.

He jumped up, so quickly, you flinched. Then he walked up and down the room, his hand running through his blonde hair.

“Draco, I understand that you don´t want to do this… I mean we don´t even know if it´ll work.”

With the same rapidity he kneeled down in front of you, the solemn light of the waxing moon hitting his face.

“I want this. I really want this.” He reassured you, the explicit certainty in his voice almost made you scream.

“I want to marry you.”

I can´t help but love you

Even though I try not to

I can´t help but want you

I know that i´d die without you

“Hermione please listen to me!” You grabbed her arm, pulling her back. You had seated her at a bench outside. The wind was piercing cold, the autumn air searching through your heavy jacket.

“How could you?!” She asked you again, her voice filled with anger and disappointment.

“I didn’t have a choice; they would have killed me or my family. Do not tell you wouldn´t do anything in order to protect your parents? Your family?”

Your words brought her to stop and slowly she turned back to look at you. She knew you well enough to know, that you were saying the truth.

“I´m sorry”, she mumbled, but you shook your head. “It´s fine.” You reassured her.

“No, it´s not. I know that you would never possibly do something like this.” You nodded and silently accepted her apology. There was no point of arguing now.

“I have found a plan, it could make the mark disappear, free me from this curse. But it´s risky.” You explained carefully, but Hermione nodded quickly. She was ready to help.

“What do you need?”

“Well, first and foremost, I need you.”

Her eyebrows furrowed as she starred at you and the wind blew a few strands of her locks into her pale face.

“I need you as my… witness.” You explained even more carefully, but she didn´t understand yet.

“Witness?”

“A witness to marriage.”

Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. Within a second she stood so close to you, her hands grabbing your arms.

“You want me as you maid of honor?!”

You nodded again, nervously biting your lip. “Yes, I found a ritual, very dark and very old. It certifies a marriage in order to remove all marks and curses laid on the pair. I´m talking about the old magic from the Salem witches.”

“Wait, but you´re talking about a ritual that removes the marks on the both of them. You´re planning on marrying a death eater?” You couldn´t even speak up, while Hermione finished her thought. She gasped for air once again. “Is it Malfoy? Are you planning on marrying Draco Malfoy?!”

Stay with me a little longer

I will wait for you

Shadows creep

And want grows stronger

Deeper than the truth

You needed two witnessed to confirm the marriage and you needed people, who would lie for you and were able to fulfill the high standards of the old magic. Hermione wasn´t your closest friend, well you had lost many of your friends, when you started staying away from them in order to protect them. But you had always got along so well, having easy conversations. You understood her struggle as a muggle blood, you found it hard yourself and bounded over the very first year in Hogwarts. You were a disgrace since your beginning at Hogwarts, where you were parted into Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin like the rest of your family.

You had asked Draco to find the second witness. Luckily, he understood that he couldn´t just chose Zabini or Goyle. So, he knocked at the door of probably the only person that might help him.

“Mr. Malfoy, how can I help you?” Snape asked in his monotone voice as always.

“May I come in?” Snape nodded and closed the door behind him, but not before glancing down the halls again.

“I need your help.” Draco didn´t bother to sit or talk around it. “I want to get out. I don´t want to be a death eater, I never wanted this.”

Snape barely nodded. “I understand, but I can´t help you with that.”

“Yes, you can.” He took out a semi neatly folded piece of paper from his jacket. He handed it over to Snape, only two words were written on it.

“Mr. Malfoy, what your proposing here is…” Snape flinched while reading the words. He had heard of the ritual, but never imagined to put use to it.

“Risky and dangerous, I know. But it´s my only chance, our only chance.” Snape watched him, he saw certainty in his eyes, he saw a chance he never had.

“You know, it´ll only work if you really love each other.”

Draco shrugged, but Snape stormed closer to him. “Draco, do you love her? Can you imagine living with her till the end of days?” He asked sharply, but Draco held against his stare.

“I do and I will do anything to keep her safe with me.”

I can´t help but love you

Even though I try not to

I can´t help but want you

I know that i´d die without you

The night was only a few hours away, you had started avoiding Draco at all costs. You had literally run off into the girls bathroom and then chatted with Myrte for half an hour, just to be sure he was gone. You didn´t know what had come over you, but the fear that it couldn´t work was just too big. You were literally about to blow off the ritual, well the entire wedding.

The moon was rising and you cursed at the perfectly filled circle for looking down at you.

When you entered the room of requirements you were surprised to find Hermione already there.

“What are you doing here?” You asked overly annoyed, she still shrugged innocently, ignoring your angry tone.

“I don´t fully approve of this, but it´s a wedding and I´m gonna help you get ready.”

Goosebumps crawled upon your skin when you heard the word wedding.

“Yeah, you can leave then, the wedding´s off.” You snarled, but Hermione remained ruthless.

She ignored your comment and pulled your arm towards the closet. You gasped when eyeing the dress.

“Hermione, it´s…”

“Stunning I know, it´s why I picked it.” You couldn´t help but laugh. “For somebody who doesn´t approve, you are pretty supporting.” She softly grabbed your hands and you turned back to her.

“I can´t stop you, I know that. But you deserve all the happiness in this world and if that´s the way to get it, I´ll help you get there.”

She smiled sadly at you and you felt yourself tearing up. Before you could even weakly speak, she hugged you tightly.

“Oh Hermione”, you sobbed against her shoulder. “What if it doesn´t work?”

“Do you remember the Yule ball?” She asked whispering.

“You went with that Brick from Durmstrang and Draco was dying of jealousy, he didn´t talk to Pansy all evening. He even dropped her on the dancefloor. He couldn´t help but stare at you.” She paused. “You never knew it and I didn´t tell you, but when I was sitting outside and you were grabbing something to drink and I cried about Ron and his stupidity, he ran into me. He was all over the place, and then I straight up told him; He should´ve asked you in the first place then. You should´ve seen his look, I´ve never seen him so vulnerable. You make him a better person.”

I can´t hep but be wrong in the dark

´cause i´m overcome in this war of hearts

I can´t help but want oceans to part

´cause i´m overcome in this war of hearts

You knew Hermione tried everything and in any other situations, those words would have been reassuring. But not now. The thought of seeing him dying because of this old, stupid ritual; it was too much.

You left Hermione´s warm hug and stormed out of the room of requirements, right into a hard chest. You looked up to find Snape right in front of you, his face neutral as always but his mouth slightly opened. He seemed ready to speak, but now words left his mouth. A certain glimmer was in his eyes, you thought he looked more friendly with it. It might have been dead since Lilly Potter…

“Y/n…” You hadn´t noticed Draco, he stood a few feet behind Snape, a white shirt and dark pants. His hair was sleekly put back, he looked good. But the look in his eyes, you couldn´t even bare it.

“I´m sorry, Draco”, you sobbed and ran past the two Slytherins.

Tears started rolling down and uncontrollable sobs escaped your mouth. Your dress, which was mostly made of thin materials, flew in the air as you stepped outside. You ran down the hill from the castles as fast as your feet could carry you. You reached the black lake in a record time and completely breathless. The night was young, but the moon shone bright.

Your strength was gone and you collapsed next to a tree. There was no snow, but the temperatures were freezing. You knew the ground was dirty, but all you could do, was fall onto your knees and continue to sob.

You hated yourself for thinking you could go through with it. Afterall you were stupid teenagers, too young to be adults, too old to be children.

It hurt even more, because you knew what it meant. You were a prisoner of Voldemort’s followers; you would never be free. And you had lost Draco.

It was truly hopeless.

“Y/n?”

You froze.

You hadn´t noticed that Draco had followed you. But you felt his presence right behind you. He stood there, the silver light hitting his skin in a perfect angle. You didn´t turn however, you remained sitting on the ground, your eyes facing the lake. You had stopped sobbing, but the tears didn´t stop.

“I´m sorry”, you croaked and swallowed. You voice was rough and sounded harsher than expected.

“I´m sorry”, you repeated with steadiness. “I shouldn´t have brought the idea up. It was a mistake.”

You heard how the ground beneath his feet ruffled and within seconds, he kneeled in front of you.

“Don´t.” He cupped your face with both of his hands. “Don´t be sorry. We´ll get through it, together. Married or not. Marked or not. Because we have each other.”

Finally, you had the courage to look up and stare in his mesmerizing eyes. “We´re marked even if we´d win, we´ll go to Azkaban.” You smiled sadly, but Draco didn´t let go.

“What made you think, it wouldn´t work?” He asked with such intensity, you let out a rough, sarcastic, laugh.

“Why? Draco, we´re young! Do we even know what love is? Don´t tell me you were not worried! We could die trying this!” You sighed and swallowed the tears that came up again.

“People tried it before. The mark didn´t go away, it absorbed them. They died. I don´t want to see you dying.”

“Why do you think I would die?”

You couldn´t help but stop and stare at him. The question was so full of truth, it hurt you to answer. So, you didn´t.

“You think I don´t love you enough? Is that why?”

You shook your head, not knowing what to say. But he knew it was the truth.

“Do you know how you make me feel? When I look at you, my heart hurts because I love you so much. You don´t know how many times I went over my future plans, they all sucked, unless you were there with me. I love you, Y/n, with my entire heart and if you still want to, it would be an honor to me, if you´d became my wife.”

You listened to each and every word he said and the more he talked, the more you smiled. Draco wasn´t one to talk about his feelings, but now you were surer than ever.

“Okay.” You nodded.

“Okay!” He finally closed the gap and kissed you.

I can´t help but love you

Even though I try not to

I can´t help but want you

I know that i´d die without you

You came back, hand in hand with your fiancé. Hermione smiled and you even caught a glance of Snape´s small grin.

“Glad to see you stuck up with her, Malfoy”, Hermione added smiling and padded Draco’s shoulder.

“I don´t want to interrupt you two lovebirds, but the moon is dropping. This might be your last chance…” You looked up to Draco, he already was smiling.

“We´ll do it.”

You had sat down in a circle of red candles; a bigger one with white candles included Hermione and Snape. The room was dark, through the window was the last bit of the full moon.

Various symbols decorated the floor, you sat across Draco, he tightly held your hands.

A dark flower crown sat on your head and red lipstick rounded your lips perfectly. In the middle, between you and Draco were four bowls, a chalice and a long silver dagger. The four bowls were symbols for the elements, one with water, fire, earth and feathers for air. The smell of burned sage laid in the air. A dark shadow settled across your and Draco´s heads like a veil. Hermione and Snape had their books opened in front of them. They exchanged looks, but then nodded, as did you and Draco.

“Blood turn black and heart turn stone

Two lovers shall bound

Two lovers shall hound

Brought upon them, Head to toe, skin and nerve

The curse will break, blood will turn black

Hearts will turn gold”

Hermione and Snape spoke synchronized, even though the books laid in front of them, they didn´t need to look down. As the spoke, Draco took the dagger and cut his dark mark, a thin line of blood was opened and slowly, but surely more blood followed. You saw that he didn´t flinch, you bit your lip as you cut your mark only seconds later. Then you took each other arms, pressing the open wounds against the other. As the blood mixed, a few droplets fell down into the chalice.

“Enemies of ocean and sun, elements of night and day

Hear us

We´ll curse your eyes, we´ll curse your lies

Protected from evil we shall be.”

Draco then continued.

“I can´t help but be wrong in the dark

´cause i´m overcome in this war of hearts.”

You smiled as he spoke and he nodded again.

“I can´t help but want oceans to part

´cause i´m overcome in this war of hearts”

You lifted the chalice to your lips and took a sip, then you offered it to Draco, who did the same. As the taste of blood remained on your lips, you kissed Draco.

Then you felt a slight sting, both of you looking down as you watched how the dark mark disappeared, nothing but a scar from the dagger was left then.

***

The war was over.

It was almost a year later and you hurried through your apartment in the middle of London. “Draco, they´ll be coming soon, where is the wine and the champagne?” Then you heard the bell rang and Draco, who hurried past you. He pressed a kiss on your head and went then to open the door.

Potter, Ginny!” He greeted them, giving Potter a friendly hand shake, patting his shoulder and hugging Ginny. Shortly after them arrived Hermione and Ron and last but not least Neville and Luna. Hermione hugged you tightly as you stood a little on the side of the group.

“You look stunning, Y/n”, she nodded and the rest said their welcomes. You smiled. “Yeah, it´s going well, we´re happy here.” She pressed you arm and offered a genuine smile.

In the meantime, Harry had approached Draco to help him with the champagne. “I would´ve never dreamed of this day”, he explained smiling and Draco chuckled. “If you had told me in the first or second grade, I would have killed you!” Harry laughed, but then his face went serious again. “I´m glad you decided this way, you know? I know it wasn´t always easy, especially for you, but I know you chose the right side.” Draco nodded in agreement. After all this time, they had made peace.

Ron interrupted the round as he clumsily beat a glass of champagne with a knife.

“I want to make a toast!” He announced and the rest gathered around, smiling and laughing.

“To Y/n and Draco, who stood against it all!” All of your friends and applaud, Draco next to you looped his arm around you and pressed his lips against your cheek.

“To Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy!”

#draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy oneshot #Tom Felton #tom felton imagine #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #mariamermaidimagine

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tazzytypes · 4 years ago

Text

Apocalypse: Sanctuary - Chapter 14

Hey guys! Thank you so much for being patient with me as I work to keep this story going. Between work and school my schedule is completely booked so finding time to sit down and write can be hard. As always, thank you for all the likes and comments. They really make my day and I get super excited when I see those notifications on my phone.

Read more on AO3 or see the Masterpost for more chapters!

Emily stood dutifully with her “sister witches” in the salon of the subterranean boy’s school, glancing here and there. She was desperately trying to read the room. Tension was high, but no one cared to explain why. Instead, she felt like a toddler watching her parents get a divorce without the needed schema to even understand marriage

God, she missed college. At least there, things were actually explained to her. All Cordelia said was they were here to perform a ritual of the Seven Wonders. The name sounded familiar, but other than that, she knew nothing.

What she did know was that the Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men was the counterpart to Robichaux. Why they separated the coven based upon gender alone was… perplexing. Emily imagined prestige had something to do with it, a concept that made her roll her eyes at the sheer absurdity of it all.

Emily had never been to California. One of her friends had moved there after high school, but they weren’t particularly close and the contact between them was now non-existent. It wasn’t as if she could reach out to the girl — duty being what it was and the fact that they were now in the least hospitable place in the entire state.

It was a pity, Emily hoped she would have at least seen the beach or LA. More to say she had than out of actual desire.

She looked up as Myrtle shimmied beside them, keys in hand. Quietly, she bestowed them upon the group — first Zoe, then Queenie, and finally Madison and herself.

“We’ll be doubling up in the broom closets they call rooms,” Myrtle said, keeping her voice low. “Make sure you check the sheets before you lay down.”

She spared a pointed look at Madison, “and don’t go about wandering in the night. God knows what these little perverts will do.”

Madison stood with her arms across her chest, an unconvincing smile more a smirk than anything else. She leaned forward and flashed a grin. “Just because I get more than anyone else in this coven doesn’t mean I don’t have standards.”

Myrtle smiled in a way that made the blonde frown and turned back to the center of the room where Ariel and Cordelia were still talking logistics. The Seven Wonders required careful planning. With the stakes being life or death, there was no room for even the smallest of errors. They also had to assure that the greasy little weasels weren’t cheating them out of their throne.

Madison leaned in towards Queenie, eyes flickering from the boy wonder.

“I have dibs,” she said.

A brow shot up Queenie’s forehead, “On what, bitch?”

“The bed.”

“Girl. I am not sharing a room with you.”

Madison turned to Zoe. The brunette’s eyes were trained ahead, purposefully not meeting Madison’s eyes. The ex-movie star rolled her eyes which came to settle on Emily. She shook the key with a painted “6” on the fob.

“Looks like we’re bunk buddies.”

Emily spoke before she could think, “Joy.”

“Whatever.”

Across the room, Michael watched Emily. He didn’t stare, but blue eyes frequently dashed to the girl. She stood stoically a few steps away from her sister witches with a stern expression on her face. As soon as she was brought into the light, however, it disappeared. Furrowed brows relaxed with the rest of her expression, only to return as it was but a moment before.

Her companions seemed not to notice, treating her as a bumbling and anxious thing. No, this girl was but a cat waiting to pounce from the shadows.

Emily’s eyes dashed to his as she felt his stare. For a moment they locked eyes, but she quickly averted her gaze and focused on anything but him. He watched a moment longer.

Madison whispered something and she rolled her eyes, but a blush crawled up her neck. Her eyes flickered back to him, but he quickly turned his attention to the conversation at hand.

Days before, all Emily had been able to glean from her conversation with Cordelia was that this important ritual would determine who the next Supreme would be… whatever that meant.

For all the useless information the others had given her, they did not explain what the Seven Wonders entailed. “You’ll see,” was the closest she had gotten to a response.

Either way, Cordelia wanted her help. What she could help with, she wasn’t quite sure. The witches seemed to find pleasure in keeping things vague.

Thus, long story short: Emily was in an underground all-boys boarding school doing occult shit straight out of a Steven King novel.

Green eyes flickered to a nearby bookshelf, her eyes trailing over the titles instinctively. Most of them were old, books having that rough binding with wrinkled spines that only came from constant use and gold inlaid titles. There was one, however, with no name.

Looking about, she carefully made her way over to the shelf. It wasn’t far from where she was standing — a few feet at most. Gently, she eased the large weathered tome into her arms, balancing it upon her hip as if it were a child.

It was a grimoire written in Latin. It was the one subject she had made traction in, reassuring her whenever she couldn’t conjure small objects to her hand or make butterflies out of roses.

That being said, she was far from fluent. Some words and basic sentences popped out at her, but beyond that was incomprehensible. Emily wished she had her pile of references with her. It would at least give her something to do while the adults tackled the issues at hand.

“Finis venit,” she muttered under her breath, eyes narrowed as she read the handwritten note on the inside cover of the book, “ante initium.”

The end comes before the beginning?

A burning sensation in her hands nearly made her drop the tome with what would no doubt have been a very loud, attention-drawing thud. Biting her lip to keep from crying out, she eased the book back to its place.

Her eyes darted around the room as she shuffled away from the bookcase. No one seemed to notice her faux pas, too engrossed in their own thoughts and tasks. Eventually, her gaze was drawn to the blonde boy who stood next to Ariel, Hawthorne’s headmaster. His hands were positioned behind his back, fist clenching as he continued to pay attention to the discussion before him.

Glancing back to her hands, she found a small circular burn mark around her right middle finger. Red irritation bloomed brightly upon her skin but quickly faded into nothing.

“God, I need a cigarette,” Madison whined beside her, crossing her arms and leaning back on the wall. Bored, her eyes trailed back to her new Sabrina. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“Cordelia asked me to come.”

Madison scoffed, “What does she want you to do? Throw up on them?”

“Who the fuck knows,” Emily said with a sigh. The reaction gained her a small, cheeky smile from the blonde. The amusement didn’t last long.

“If you know you’re not a witch, why the hell do you even stay here?”

“Cordelia thinks I have potential.”

“Ha!” Madison said, “What a load of crock.”

Queenie rolled her eyes as she stood beside the two, Madison sandwiched between the human voodoo doll and the powerless newbie.

“Can you stop being a bitch for, like, five seconds?” Queenie snapped at the blonde.

“Whatcha’ gonna’ do? Kill me?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

A small smirk crawled onto Emily’s lips at the banter, but quickly vanished the second she felt Madison glance towards her. From across the room, Michael couldn’t help but be amused at the scene. He did his best to hide a smirk of his own, covering it with a hand in an attempt to save face.

Madison rolled her eyes and scoffed before shuffling away from the pair to put as much distance between them. Emily glanced at Queenie and they both snickered.

“Like I said,” Queenie said, “I got you, girl.”

“I’d hate to be on your bad side.”

“Damn straight.”

Emily pushed off the wall and stood a little straighter as she noticed Cordelia turn. The warlocks retreated to their side of the room save for Ariel and the curly-haired angel. Green eyes met blue and the two simply stared at each other for a long moment before diverting their attention back to the reigning supreme.

There was something about that boy… something Emily couldn’t quite place.

“Today we take part in an ancient ritual used by our coven for generations,” Cordelia spoke, “The new must be ushered in and the old ushered out to maintain the strength of our coven.”

Finally, she turned to the boy-wonder, “Are you ready to take on this momentous task.”

“I am.”

Emily jumped as a loud chorus of cheers erupted above them, boys stomping their feet and yelling as loud as they knew how. She forced her eyes back on her headmistress and tried to quiet her racing heart.

Cordelia didn’t look pleased, everyone else too preoccupied with the noise to notice. It was a slight difference: the near imperceivable furrow of the brow and thinning of the lips.

Her eyes then trailed to the boy. He was smiling up at the crowd, basking in their adoration. It was a genuine smile — not the one he had shown when they first arrived.

The rowdy boys were quickly silenced with a well-aimed look of their headmaster. Emily could hear the shuffling of feet above her head as they skittered off into the halls, leaving the room feeling tense and lifeless.

“Like little roaches,” she heard Myrtle whisper to Zoe. The girl’s response was drowned out by the voice of their headmistress.

“Let the test of the Seven Wonders begin!”

***

The Seven Wonders was a test of seven magical talents… or at least that is what Emily observed.

Telekinesis was the first wonder, an easy enough skill for those who could actually use their magic. She felt a surge of jealousy at that thought. It was easy for Cordelia to say magical talent didn’t matter when she had more than Emily could hope to possess.

Michael held up his hand and a book crossed the room as if it had a mind of its own. The grimoire was a heavy tome in her arms, but the boy made it look as light as a feather.

He opened it to the first page, brows furrowing as he read the hand-scribed dedication. Closing the book, he looked to Ariel. The man was grinning ear to ear, clapping the boy on the back and praising him for a job well done.

“This is but the first test,” Cordelia reminded, voice stern, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

The fair-haired woman turned to Michael, “The next test is Concilium. Control the minds of someone in this room.”

That wording did nothing to ease the tension in Emily’s body. She quite liked being in control of her own thoughts and actions. The thought of someone being able to override her autonomy at will made her palms sweat.

Emily didn’t know what to expect until Madison and Zoe started dancing at random. Their faces betrayed their true feelings, Michael’s powers not strong enough to make the pair like one other. A small smile flickered to Emily’s lips at the frowns carved into their faces, but it quickly vanished when she felt the boy’s eyes on her.

They danced and danced and danced some more in a silent room. If not for the circumstances it may have been poetic. The strings of the puppet-master were far too visible, their bodies too stiff. It made her skin crawl.

Just as the dance ended, Emily felt a sudden presence behind her followed by a feather-light tap on her shoulder. Her hair stood on end and a shiver ran up her spine. Hands instinctively curled into fists which swung back towards the sudden presence.

The problem with instinct was that your body moved before your mind could decide to. Her fist was mere inches from his face when she finally realized what she was doing. Michael’s hand swung out to block the blow, fingers curling around her hand as he caught the punch mid-air. Emily’s heart was racing in her chest and the boy-wonder could feel her heartbeat through her hand.

Power flickered through the air. Michael feeling like he was on the other end of an electrical shock. Gently, he let her hand go and it pulled back to her side as if his touch was fire.

“Careful,” He warned, a crooked smile curling at his lips. Emily’s eyes narrowed ever slightly. “You’ll end up giving someone a black eye.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed ever slightly, biting back a retort. If someone didn’t want a black eye, they shouldn’t sneak up on others. She was tempted to throw the other fist… but she doubted her headmistress would approve.

“You have conquered transmutation,” Cordelia noted, the pair turning back to the current supreme. Michael stepped back from her charge with the expression of a content cat. The Supreme’s frown was more prominent now, her eyes filled with annoyance she could no longer hide. “Now it is time for you to conquer the next task.”

She spared a glance at Ariel who stood beside her. He beamed at his student, looking to the woman beside him with an air of smug contempt. He was comically shorter than the woman, but her own expression did nothing to squash his silent gloating.

“One of your mentors has hidden something in this room. Find it using divination.”

Michael stepped around Emily, the girl taking a step away from him as he made his way towards the blonde woman. Stopping before her, he held out a hand palm-up. After a moment, Cordelia placed a dozen or so runes and bones into his hand.

Turning on his heel and taking a few deliberate steps, Michael crouched in front of the fire. He tossed the objects onto the floor. Emily stared at them, trying to sense their meaning. She had read tarot cards before — accurate readings, too… or so her friends had said. Runes and bones, however, were another beast entirely.

The bookshelf. Her own thought startled her as if she had heard another’s voice inside her head. She watched Michael’s eyes flicker up to one of the many bookshelves.

Then he was gone, vanishing into thin air. Emily moved closer to the wall, hairs standing on end once more. The next thing she knew, the boy-wonder was standing next to his headmaster who jumped as a hand was placed on his shoulder.

“I believe this is yours,” Michael said to the man. Ariel grinned and laughed, patting the boy on the back as he took back his pocket watch.

With every task, Cordelia’s mood soured. Anyone outside of Robichaux wouldn’t have been able to tell the slight difference in her demeanor. Her posture straightened into a thin line, her eyes growing sharper and sharper until her gaze could cut stone.

Pyrokinesis and Vitalum Vitalis. Michael made them look easy. Flames roared when drops of his blood hit the wick of a candle. He made a mouse come back alive after snapping his neck.

The latter disturbed Emily more than the former. Emily realized she had never seen anything die before. She’d experienced death, naturally — old pets and family members passing to the other side. There was something about the sharp cracking of tiny bones accompanied by a shrill shriek that made all her hairs stand on end. Her body buzzed and she felt a momentary pressure on her forehead.

Zoe turned at the sudden snap of power which echoed through the room. Emily stared at the sight before her, her eyes distant. It unnerved Zoe, the way the other girl stared. It felt like a black void had curled around Emily.

The second the mouse was brought back to life, the spell which entranced the woman broke. Clarity came back to Emily’s eyes and she finally felt the presence of eyes upon her. Zoe averted her gaze, pretending she had seen nothing.

“And so, we arrive at the final test,” Cordelia announced, “Descensum.”

Slowly, Michael’s hands came to rest behind his back. The more wonders he accomplished, the more contempt he held. Cordelia worried what his plans for the coven were. There was something about that boy that sat her on edge.

Her eyes flickered to Emily for but a moment, watching her whisper something to Queenie. Green eyes widened at the senior witch’s response.

Emily’s attention darted between the line of witches now standing before the fire. Queenie had chosen to stay with the younger witch to explain what was going on.

“What’s Decensum?” Emily asked

“To prove you are the next supreme, you have to go to hell.”

“Hell?”

“I didn’t believe it at first, either.” Queenie said, “but, then again, I’m a human voodoo doll so anything is possible.”

Emily’s lips twisted as she took in the information, trying to decide how she felt about the concept of hell existing. She had never been a particularly religious person… agnostic at best. It was an existential conundrum — one existing thus implying the other did as well.

Closing off her thoughts, Emily forced herself to save the existentialism for after their little trip. Hopefully, by then she would forget about it entirely.

Cordelia’s voice pulled them from their whispered conversation. Their headmistress’s voice rang loud and clear throughout the room, demanding attention.

“But today I am not asking you to perform this wonder,” The Supreme continued, dragging her eyes back to Michael, “I am asking you to conquer it.”

Emily’s eyes flickered back to Queenie as she shifted to her other foot, eyes narrowed at her supreme and brows furrowed.

“What is she doing?” Queenie muttered. Emily pulled her eyes away from her companion and looked to the scene before her. The wizards shifted uncomfortably, lips pressing into thin lines. Emily’s eyes then settled back on Cordelia.

“I’d like you to retrieve my dear friend, Misty Day,” the blonde woman continued, “who lost her own battle with this very task.”

“That’s impossible!” one of the warlock’s snapped, an African American man — Behold — dressed to impress in the same black color they all donned. “Those who don’t return from Decensum are gone forever; property of the underworld.

“But even Orpheus was able to challenge Hades to bring back Eurydice,” Emily muttered. She felt eyes upon her, but when she looked to the boy-wonder his attention was solely on Cordelia.

Queenie spared the girl a glance, “What was that?”

Emily slowly removed her eyes from Michael, “Nothing.”

““No other Supreme’s been made to do this, ever. This is not only unfair,” Another wizard — Baldwin — noted, angry eyes encased by thick-rimmed glasses, “this is suicide!”

Cordelia cut them off with ease, “Which is why I offer a compromise.”

The Supreme looked to Emily expectantly. The brunette glanced about the room, unsure of what was coming. Finally, after a good moment, she stepped out of the shadows. Cordelia offered her a reassuring smile as Emily came to stop by her side. She could feel the warlock’s eyes on her and she found herself focusing on the floor after meeting their gaze.

“Emily is a catalyst,” Cordelia explained to the warlocks. “One of the strongest I have ever seen. While she has yet to show any magical ability, we have found that others of our kind can tap into her magic and use it to power their own.”

“This is sabotage!” Baldwin said, his pose reminding Emily of a hungry wolf. What was Cordelia thinking? She wasn’t ready for this. She didn’t want this. She didn’t—

“Michael will need all the help he can get,” Cordelia reminded.

All this while, Ariel had been quietly fuming. He should have known the witches would try and undermine the alpha. Jaw clenched and expression sour, he did his best to keep his cool.

“Enough.” He said, head turning to his fellow warlocks before his gaze returned to the blonde witch, “Cordelia—”

Cordelia’s head cocked ever slightly to the side, waiting for him to speak.

“I need a word.” He finally concluded, words rushing past his lips. Cordelia simply nodded, and he led the way back into the shadow-filled halls of Hawthorne.

***

“You’re changing the rules!” Ariel exclaimed, voice rising and anger taking the forefront as soon as they were out of earshot. He paced back and forth in his office, trying to contain his rage. “Michael should only have to descend as you did!”

Cordelia stood calmly at the center of the room, poised with her hands resting in front of her. Her stillness was unsettling… more similar to a snake than a woman. It only served to anger Ariel more, waving his hands as he talked just to keep from imploding.

“You didn’t see what I saw,” the woman noted, voice stern and unwavering. Stubborn. Just like her mother. “Our world hangs in the balance. There is darkness coming and, if Michael is going to be the one who leads, us he needs to be able to withstand anything.”

Ariel stopped in his tracks.

“Bullshit.”

Cordelia’s gaze was as cutting as a knife, her hushed tone betraying her surprise, “excuse me?”

“I saw you drop. I know what’s really happening here.” Ariel said, satisfied as Cordelia’s face fell into a frown. “You’re fading, but you’re afraid to let go.”

“And you’ve hit a wall. Grand Chancellor is as far as you’re going to get,” Cordelia spat, “You and your powers have reached their limit. Your kingdom will only just be this hole in the ground.”

Ariel sputtered, unable to find a single retort. The woman was a scorpion and she was more than ready to sting him with her tail.

“Unless, of course,” She continued, “you use Michael to extend your influence.”

“This is pathetic — accusing me to cover your blatant attempt at his life. I won’t lose that kid over some sad, futile cling to power.”

“I’ll remind you that I am also risking one of my own girls in this venture.”

“An inexperienced whelp!”

“Who has more untapped potential than you can ever dream to have!” Cordelia snapped, “You may insult me, but I will not let you insult one of my girls.”

“But you would send her to her death… What a supreme you are.”

“You actually believe I am trying to get them killed?”

Ariel took a step towards the woman, then another, “What I think, Cordelia, is that you are your mother’s daughter, who I knew fairly well. You may come with a kinder facade, but deep down, you’re nothing more than a weak, frightened woman… just like Fiona.”

He watched as Cordelia’s eyes betrayed her fear, her insecurity. Ariel had hit the pressure point, the Achilles heel. Cordelia’s sad eyes hardened, her own rage boiling in her belly.

“With a flick of my finger, I could crush your larynx and tear it from your throat.” Cordelia warned, “Do not think for one second I am weak. I have humored you men, and coddled your fragile egos, but in no way does that mean you actually have a say.”

The woman took a step towards the man, forcing him to step back in turn. “I outrank you. I can destroy you. So, I suggest you fall in line because I am still your Supreme.”

A creaking interrupted them, their eyes trailing to the door which now stood open. Michael stood, doors moving without his touch. His hands sat behind his back with a solemn and resolute expression.

He locked gazes with Cordelia. There was something about his eyes that made her hair stand on end. He looked human, but his eyes seemed off and his presence made her stomach churn.

“It’s okay,” he said, “I’ll get your friend back.”

***

The warlocks and witches had divided themselves in opposite corners of the room, leaving Emily to stand aimlessly in front of the fire. Their whispering was a roaring sea in her ears, an annoying buzz to a mosquito she couldn’t squash. She found her head quirking just to free her ears from the sound.

Sparing a glance at the warlocks, she was met with narrowed and sharp glances. Baldwin spared a look in her direction before turning back to Behold to whisper something. They turned their backs so she wouldn’t read their lips.

The gaze of her fellow witches was less than reassuring, themselves whispering about the circumstances just as the warlocks. Zoe looked up and the younger witch quickly averted her gaze. Cordelia’s announcement blind-sided them all. Emily had always said she was going to go to hell… she just never expected it to come this soon.

“Cordelia’s sending her to her death!” She heard Madison hiss.

“Keep your voice down, bitch!” Queenie responded, slapping the girl’s arm before they also turned to keep Emily from hearing their conversation.

With a sigh, the brunette turned her gaze back to the fire. Curling her arms around herself, she stared into the flickering flames. Fire had always comforted her, its warmth and snapping flames. She could stare at it for hours, trying to make meaning out of the chaos.

Higher, she commanded in her mind, watching a single flame sputter higher before returning to its place. When she was small, she’d amuse herself for hours with the instances of coincidence, commanding waves to rise or wind to howl and pretending she had any control over it.

It was the silence Emily noticed first. It pulled her from her mulling like ice water poured over her head. Slowly she turned to find Michael standing behind her. He watched her eyes dilate at his sudden presence before returning back to normal, allowing him to watch the colors of her hazel eyes switch ever slightly. The girl practically vibrated with anxiety.

“Cordelia says you are a catalyst.”

“Try a charger hit with lightning,” Emily noted with a scoff. Michael’s head turned slightly to the side, analyzing her response. The gusto behind her words quickly faded, hand moving to fret with her bracelet. “Or… at least, I’ve been told.”

Holding out a hand, he watched it as she regarded it. Eyes once wide in doe-like fear narrowed into calculating pinpricks. Blue eyes stared at her, judging which piece in the puzzle she was. She didn’t look him in the eyes for very long.

“Shall we?” Michael asked.

Hesitantly, her hand rose from her side and her eyes flickered to his face. She was searching for something. Neither of them knew what, but whatever she saw was satisfactory enough for her to place her hand in his own.

Emily had never been one for physical contact. Her high-school years had been spent perfecting the art of walking down a crowded hall without brushing a single arm. Michael’s hand was warm, somewhere between natural and unnatural. It was as if the boy had a fever.

Her hand, in contrast, was unnaturally cold. Her fingers were like ice against his flesh and twitched slightly at the contact.

“Tell me what I need to do.”

“Just focus on my words,” He told her, true meaning lingering in the air.

And don’t mess up.

***

Emily’s nose itched and her head buzzed, but she did her best to ignore it. It was as if there were a hundred bees in her body, all batting their wings at once. She had yet to get used to the infrequent thrumming of her bones.

The silence was oppressive, sounds of breathing and footsteps more akin to howling wing and roaring thunder. Cordelia knelt beside them, muttering spells as she slowly wound a ribbon to connect Emily’s hands with Michael’s.

When she looked up to the warlocks, they were whispering one another. As before, they shielded their faces from view, glancing back at Cordelia every few seconds.

Emily found herself speaking before she could think, the monotonous silence far too overwhelming, “So which underworld do you have to conquer?”

Michael’s voice was somewhere between bored and annoyed.

“Does it really matter?”

“I mean… different religions have different tales — Greek, Christian, Egyptian — it changes based upon the culture.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, dear,” Myrtle spoke with a small chuckle. She did not even try to mask her contempt of the boy. “it’s all semantics.”

“Until you have to have Anubis weigh your heart,” Emily muttered to herself. A smile flickered to Michael’s face and left just as quickly.

The boy-wonder laid on the floor, his head in Emily’s lap. Her hands were placed on his chest where his arms crossed like he was buried in a casket. His golden hair tickled her arm. She could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to look at him.

What did Cordelia expect her to do? Even if she was a catalyst, she couldn’t control that power. Emily’s hands felt clammy in boy-wonder’s. Suddenly the ribbon felt itchy and his hands too warm.

Apparently, the binding was supposed to channel her magic into his own. Emily just thought it made her look stupid. Cordelia gave her a reassuring smile as she finished tying off the brunette’s right hand. Touching the girl’s cheek, the Supreme pretended Emily’s jaw wasn’t tense beneath her fingers.

The coven gathered, standing around the pair. They were like giants, looming over them. Emily was less than pleased about having someone at her back. Michael felt her fingers twitch against his own.

“Ready?” Michael asked the girl, forcing her to finally meet her gaze. Emily nodded and his eyes looked past her and towards the ceiling.

“Repeat after me,” He told her, “and focus on the words.”

“Got it,” Emily said, voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum,” He began to chant, “ut salutaret inferi.”

“Dedice me in tenebris,” she repeated, doing her best to put weight behind every word, “vita ad extremum…”

“Decensum.” They spoke in unison.

Myrtle stood by Cordelia, a hand on the woman’s shoulder as the blonde fretted at her necklace. Emily would alright, she reasoned. The transfer of power did not mean she would be lost to the underworld forever.

The rest of the witches looked towards their fellow sisters. Eyes shifted between their companions and the girl on the floor, gaging their reaction to what was occurring before them.

“Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum,” Emily continued to mutter, Michael’s voice already falling silent as he descended. Her brows were furrowed in concentration, hands squeezing the boy’s. “ut salutaret—”

Her breath left her like a sigh. With a dull thump, Emily fell limp to the floor. Her body curled around Michael’s head; hands still outstretched towards his. The rope that bound them together burned until it was ash. Their hands were still connected, holding onto each other as if their lives depended upon it.

Zoe lurched forward instinctively, a spell already on her lips. Cordelia’s hand shot out, her arm keeping the other woman from taking another step.

“No,” she said, voice betraying her concern, “we must not interfere.”

“She’s not ready for this!” Madison said, rounding the group so Cordelia was forced to look her in the eye. The ex-movie star gestured towards the sleeping girl. “She can’t even make a flower change colors and you expect her to find her way out of hell?”

Cordelia was less than impressed with her student’s reaction.

“You underestimate her power.”

“And what would that be?” Ariel demanded, voice raised and hands clenched to fists at his sides. The Supreme could feel his eyes boring into the side of her face.

Slowly, Cordelia turned to regard him.

“Emily’s power is entangled between this dimensions and the next,” she said, trying to convey her urgency with every word. It was getting hard to keep her anger from overflowing. “A rare gift. There is no one more suited to this task than her.”

Brown eyes flickered to the slumbering girl, her body lacking its previous tensions. It was the calmest Cordelia had ever seen her. A small, proud smile claiming her lips.

“When she is finally able to pull that power into the waking world,” Cordelia noted, eyes boring into Ariel’s like a knife, “she will be a force to be reckoned with.”

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x oc

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moody-blues-requiem · 5 years ago

Note

Au with King Risotto (feared and goth god among men) and hes going to take you, the fair maiden, as his wife. How’s the wedding? How’s that first night?

OK SO I got really into backstory here, but I really fucking enjoyed writing this! the first two-thirds are sfw, below the second dashed line is n/s/f/w. Enjoy your King Risotto!!The setting is medieval/fantasy, blended into a more modern day. The year 2001, in Sicily. The island-kingdom is ruled by Passione, as is the rest of the country, but Sicily is ruled by one of the most fearsome kings there is. He is good to his people and protects his home island, the ferocity arises when someone dares to challenge him. King Nero.

Many rumors have spread about the king, and his seemingly magical abilities. He can control metal and bend it to his will, as if it were just an extension of himself. Some say a witch cursed him upon birth, gifting him control over metal but halving his lifespan. Others say he’s a demigod; either a son of Hephaestus, god of metalworking and the forge, or Ares, the god of war. Either one seems fitting to the king.

Rarely is he seen outside his castle’s walls, no one is certain how he passes all his time. But of course, on the fateful day in which you two should meet, you run into him in the most awkward way possible: literally. You bump into his large figure in the marketplace-- he doesn’t flinch, he’s a walking wall of muscle, after all, but it knocks his signature black cloak to the ground, in the dirt. People gasp. You apologize profusely. He silently extends a hand to help you up, and you think it’s kind of him to show such a nice gesture before he’ll probably have you executed, or something like that. But King Nero surprises you-- all your life you’ve heard stories of what a ruthless, fearsome warrior he is, but now he just quietly asks for your name. You gather up his cloak for him and respond. You insist on cleaning the cloak for him, promising to do a better job than any old royal tailor could. That actually earns a small smile and a ghost of a laugh from Nero. He agrees, and pays for your groceries before you can refuse.

In an act fueled by over-politeness, shock, and maybe a little bit of a crush on the King, you say that since he paid for your food, he should come to your home for dinner tonight. “The cloak will be ready by then too,” you say, “and you might as well stay for a meal you paid for.” Nero thinks for a moment before agreeing, “but not because you owe me a debt. You owe nothing.” You’re left with those words as he returns to his castle.

In the evening, as the sun sets, there’s a small knock on your door. King Nero! He looks comically oversized in your small house, but he seems comfortable enough. “It smells wonderful,” he says, “may I ask what’s cooking?”

“Involtini di pesce spada,” you reply, just now pulling the food from the oven. Swordfish rolls, a traditional favorite. “Have a seat at the table, your majesty, I’ll fix you a plate.”

“Please, call me Risotto.”

The two of you dined together, Risotto eating the two rolls you served him and politely asking for a third. You were flattered by how much he enjoyed your cooking, and after dinner the two of you chatted quietly over glasses of red wine. It was… almost strange, seeing him not as a warrior or a political figure or a half-god, just a man sharing a nice meal with you. It made something in your chest stir, in a warm, pleasant way.

When the moon had risen high in the night sky, Risotto reluctantly told you that he had to depart. You fetched the now-clean cloak for him, but he left it neatly folded in your arms. “Keep it,” he said, “a gift from me.”

He saw himself out, but stopped on your porch, turning back around to face you. “I… really enjoyed tonight, [y/n].” His crimson eyes looked up at the sky, then back down to you. “I don’t mean to impose, but… can we do this again?”

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

The wedding took place on a fair day in early June. It was a small ceremony, only attended by the closest of your and Risotto’s family and friends. There would be a public ceremony tomorrow, filled with thousands of guests from all over the island-kingdom. To be honest, you weren’t looking forward to the non-stop camera flashes and cheers of the large crowds, but such was life in the public eye. With Risotto by your side, you knew you’d make it through.

The ceremony was simple, but elegant. You and Risotto matched in all-black, his signature color. You had a more traditional white dress for tomorrow, but for now, you wanted to complement your lover. You recognized all eight of Risotto’s guests as various members of the royal court. They congratulate the two of you profusely, from the polite and reserved Prosciutto kissing your knuckles (you’re a queen now, after all) to Formaggio slinging his arms around both your shoulders and pulling you two newlyweds into a congratulatory hug. It was an intimate ceremony, a magical moment where you could practically see the love in Risotto’s eyes. Seeing such strong, clear emotion on his features was a little startling, but it warmed your heart. When you kissed to seal your new marriage, you wanted the moment to last forever.

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

After a long night of celebrating; with each other, with Risotto’s and your friends, and with the kingdom as a whole, you and your king were exhausted. That didn’t stop his large, warm hands from wandering across your body, and it didn’t stop you from pulling him into a passionate kiss. You had peeled off your wedding dress as soon as the two of you had returned to your room-- it was beautiful, yes, but it was infinitely more comfortable to be wearing nothing but a light slip and panties. Risotto had apparently felt the same, stripping down to his boxers before scrubbing off the highlighter on his cheekbones and collapsing into bed. His hands worked at your breasts, occasionally one moving to cup your cheek or brush a stray hair from your face, while you worked your legs around his waist and pulled him in close. You rolled your hips against his, already feeling the familiar heat of his growing erection, and before long Risotto was on top of you, nearly tearing off your slip and panties and his own boxers. His newfound burst of energy seemed to affect you too, as you dove in for another messy, passionate kiss while his fingers worked you open, preparing you for his cock.

You’d taken him before, but calling Risotto “big” was almost an understatement. Thick, uncut, decorated with a few veins and a tuft of white hair at the base, you spread your legs eagerly for Risotto’s cock. He wastes no time in plunging in, though he starts with just the tip and works the rest of his shaft in slowly. Wouldn’t want to hurt his queen, after all. The two of you groan together in pleasure when he reaches the hilt, now filling you completely.

It’s a bit of a messy affair, with how tired the both of you are, but something about the sloppiness of Risotto’s thrusts and your deep moans makes the moment all the more raw and real. Hot. You bite down on Risotto’s neck and he playfully swats at you, reminding you that the two of you are going to be the center of attention for quite some time, and he can’t be going around covered in hickies like some horny teen. Jokingly groaning, you shift to bite lower, nipping at skin that is (barely) covered by his usual outfit. He seems to accept this, groaning low and full of pleasure. His hips speed up, smacking against your own.

His fingers rub harshly over your clit, bringing you to a fast orgasm to meet his own. The way you tighten around his cock has Risotto seeing stars, pushing himself in deep and releasing his load into you. You can feel how his cock pulses with each spurt of cum filling you up. It’s a lot, you’re not surprised to feel his cum start to drip down your thigh, but you love it all. You love Risotto so, so much, and you tell him so in between messy kisses and gasping breaths. He holds you close, his low, rumbling voice telling you that he loves you just the same.

#risotto nero #la squadra di esecuzione #jjba #vento aureo #hitman team #golden wind #my writing #va #n/s/f/w #fantasy au #lasquadrahoe

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fyrapartnersearch · 5 years ago

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if the saloon doors are a-swinging...

howdy, howdy fine folks! shock and surprise, i am looking for a couple of writing partners c: i am 26, and i work fulltime as well as go to school part-time, so while i cannot promise rapidfire posts, i am becoming better about daily posts! as long as they're relatively short, sweet, and to the point. so, limits/fun factoids about my style/"tl;dr are we compatible?" first: + when reaching out to me, please tell me your limits and any plot/character ideas! + addendum: i will not respond to messages that don't contain any information about you, your limits, and what you're looking to write or what characters you'd like to use! it doesn't need to be completely fleshed out, thanks! + i write over discord near exclusively now! + i'm adaptable and laidback! however, i do not write pedophilia, rape/sexual assault, incest, abusive relationships, romantic large age gaps, nor master x slave. i will not write explicit content with minors either. + quality is far more valuable than quantity regarding length. i prefer shorter nowadays! those tasty, 1-3 para potato chip rps, so to speak c: + third person only, please +i do like long-term! + romance and platonic is welcome! as far as romance goes, all gender identities and sexual identities are a-okay. i do admittedly have a preference for m// lately, so i will likely turn some other pairings down depending on what i am currently already writing! + i prefer writing middle-aged to older farts! they come in all shapes, sizes, colors, identities, and backgrounds! i wholeheartedly welcome the same! + i love ooc chatter! i'd prefer it if you did too, but it's absolutely okay if you're just interested in writing! it is not a dealbreaker + if you're not feeling it or if life happens, that's okay. you are free to either tell me you want a change, drop altogether, or even ghost me! i will do my best to communicate, but i am sorry in advance if i disappear without a word! i try to be pretty good at letting people know if i am not feeling it or if i am going on a break c: + yes, yes, i know i write like a goob - but i promise you that my posts will be crafted with love and care what do i like to write? [cravings] + constantly changing! i have a couple of silly nuggets rolling around. mostly fluff with sprinkled angst. + post apocalypse slice of life is also great. with plenty of humor to spare. + anything with werewolves and their human beloved very concerned about the recent furniture chewing phase, and wow is frontline expensive for a 400lb beast. + want something depressing? how about something inspired by bioshock? impossibly beautiful underwater world with genetic manipulation, unhinged leaders, and missing children. + a silly, humorous story about a familiar and their witch + something a bit more rocky, but an old fashioned western physician falling for an outlaw/ sheriff/ rancher, etc. bonus points for post-apoc and western themed. please, i got the perfect ole grizzled doc for this c: [modern] + i love modern, but i am not really looking too intensely for it right now c: i am happy writing about firefighters and lawyers, scientists, military readjusting to civilian life, boring divorced dads who find lifelong love with other divorced dads, fluffy slice-of-life, etc. + military and coming back home! + leaving the city for a life on a farm! + leaving the farm for a life in the city! "y'all mean to tell me you don't know what noodling for catfish is?"

[(somewhat) historic] + btw, i am not a history buff - so be prepared for anachronisms galore! c: which might mean plumbing and dental care centuries before it was introduced. + noire crime! old grizzled detectives and their partners in crime trying to figure out these gosh dang murders. dang killers, bringing down everyone's vibes. + a detective moving to a podunk old town, with a ~mysterious past~. however, there isn't any mysterious past, the locals just humor the guy and i have a soft spot for the detective falling for the sheriff while constantly heckling him for assistance. + western! please, just... anything western. i love cowboys, ranches, train robberies, just... i will maybe propose if you let me indulge this.

[fantasy & monsters] + i am also happy to write fantasy! + fantasy can genuinely be blended into anything, into modern, sci-fi, post apocalyptic, etc. + i am also happy with pure, vanilla, cheesy fantasy - with kings, queens, beautiful warhorses and kingdoms by the sea, and conventionally attractive people with healthy teeth and... far less dysentery. + i am happy to write sci-fi into fantasy - hunters/mercenaries with eyes that can hologram maps and prey, platinum horses made of gaskets and titanium joints who breathe steam, a kingdom in the sky, anything! + something all 'bout dat circus life! star crossed lovers tropes abound! + very, very old monsters who pester that one Highly Top Secret Government Agent ™ to let them see the spectral ghost of their mortal loved one from centuries ago. the ghosts of their in-laws also tag along. + good-natured, summoned demon spouses who just wish you'd get along with your in-laws who reside in a lovely three-bedroom villa style family home in hell. + i have a love for monsters trying to figure out this whole. human. thing. attempting to fit polo shirts for their office job over their curled horns, old werewolves trimming their nosehairs and their primary physician chiding at them for eating too much red meat, etc. there are so, so many possibilities + also dragons! [post-apocalyptic] + i've got spurs that jingle jangle jingle! post-apocalyptic in the wild, wild west sounds incredibly fun! + one innocent or guilty chump gets kicked out of a survivors organization, and their closest friend follows. then they both adventure into the great unknown of a hollow world. + zombie survival, maybe? [sci-fi] + space pilots, space pirates, space colonies, space travel, spaaaaace! + i don't have anything specific! typically, my sci-fi is blended in with other themes c: if you have anything, i'd love to hear it! [... guilty pleasures] + i love the cheesy and humorous things to temper the chaos. love, love, love writing that domestic, usually peaceful, sweet life of two happy people who have been together for ages or just met in their golden years after struggle and just... working for their happy endings. + though i am not usually interested in cheesy, obnoxious tropes... i have a soft spot for two grumpy, gruff guys falling for each other c: [miscellaneous]

+ this is hardly an exhaustive list of ideas or themes that interest me! if you have something in mind that you do not see, or anything at all, please do let me know! i love brainstorming and hearing ideas c: + note: i love writing with pretty boy archetypes!! but i am inundated with them at the moment in my current threads, bring me yer more grizzled and rough and tough boys! the two characters i have in mind are too old and boring to keep up with pretty, lithe youngins! what characters do i have in mind? plenty! craving two in particular, but i have plenty more in mind if the following two don't catch your interest: + one is svelte, aloof, posh, thoughtful. the very characterization of something like... a sleek, abyssinian cat playing the cello. intriguing, a little odd, an intimidating, coded villain - but really, just socially awkward, and a sweetheart. + the other is beefy, grumpy, and also... a goof at the core. the archetype of an ornery grandpa with the warmest heart and a distinguished grey streak in his hair. both are middle-aged men and adaptable to anything from old-fashioned fantasy, to modern, to sci-fi, to fantasy-modern hybrids, to post apocalyptic. they can be rogues, kings, survivors, lawyers, detectives, chefs, scientists, neighbors, loyal right-hands, anything from protectors and anchors to the village/office boob. i am preferring to write the former gentleman, but i am up to write either, or someone completely different! i am also happy to elaborate upon contact if you are interested! fortunately, each one is more complex than several adjectives and a stereotypical archetype. i'd also love to hear the characters you have in mind! are you interested? well, neat-o! i can be reached at discord on howdy^3#6518, i look forward to hearing from you!

#independent roleplay #oc rp #multiple paragraph #para #semipara #long term #messenger #submission

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westfrosts · 6 years ago

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Accidents and Proposals - Colt x MC

A/N: hey it’s wzkdj here from instagram, a.k.a Khadijah! ! y’all may recognise me from the previous fic Ifraah and I posted on this account ( Apple Pies )

side note: we agreed on Y/N / MC being too cringey and wattpad-y so we settled on a name for our MC: Zafira

this fic is in the same universe as the previous one, Apple Pies :)

this came from the idea: MC vomiting on Colt LMAO, excuse how long it is and how extra the entire first half is hehe the word count is around 6100

also, we have a few cameos from our choices group, Justine, Ifraah, Mics and I, Khadijah all make our cameos with our faves bc i was feeling it and thought it would be funny lmaooo so be on the lookout for those :)

Tag List: for all the Colt lovers hehe, if y’all don’t want to be tagged just let me know and if you do then just throw us a comment or sumn! @tabithacarlisle @lifeof314universe @flowerpowell @lady-dianelewis @confessionsofabrokegirl @drakewalkerdrunk @zeniamiii @i-am-clementine @gayplaychoices @marcela13mars @ladymarquess @claudevonstruke @stillafictosexual @wolfmckenzie @emomoustache @inkandfables @thegardendiety @akrenich @ckanekos @coltkaneko @pixelburied

“Damn, I thought we were going to a five-star restaurant.” Riya almost whined, pouting as she sat down beside Darius opposite Zafira.

“Sorry, Babe, but not everyone has Jonas Brothers’ type of money.” Darius said with a shrug. Zafira burst out laughing and lifted her hand for a high five. Darius grinned and slapped her hand right as a waitress came up to their table.

“Hey guys, my name’s Justine!” she said enthusiastically, before she gestured to her name tag which had ‘Justine’ written on it. Zafira didn’t miss the bright jingling silver bracelet that had ‘BUCKET’ written in caps before a big red heart. “I’ll be your waitress for today. Here are your menus, don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything,” she said with a smile, “Oh, and I should let you know, we currently have the meal deal on the Grilled Chicken Sandwich if you happen to be interested in a free cookie by any chance…” she winked.

The three of them gasped in unison as the waitress walked off to tend to another table and looked at each other. “Free cookie?!” Zafira said in amazement, as she watched Darius and Riya mirror her expression.

“We have got to get that meal deal.” Darius practically demanded, with a slap of his fist on the table, none of them paying any attention to the three menus that jumped up and almost fell off.

“I can’t believe we’re giving in so easily to capitalism.” Zafira said sadly, sighing in dismay. “Wendy’s 1, Karl Marx 0. I’m sorry, Marx, we have failed you.” Riya and Darius burst out laughing at her remark and eventually Zafira was guffawing along with them.

…

Soon enough, Justine was bringing out a tray with the orders on and Zafira couldn’t help but rub her hands together in excitement. “Chicken Sandwich, get in my belly! Y’all have no idea how long it’s been since I last ate a burger, my stomach can no longer recall the sweet taste of that seeded bun.” Zafira shook her head sadly as her eyes widened upon the tray placed down on their table.

“Here are 3 Grilled Chicken Sandwiches with those free cookies I promised. Enjoy your meal, guys!” Justine said with a smile, laughing at the faces the three of them made.

“Thank you!” They chorused, almost salivating at the sight in front of them. Justine grinned as she walked away and Zafira and Darius couldn’t dig into their burgers any faster.

“Guys! Wait, I’ve gotta get a pic to put on my IG or Snap! Guys, c’mon, don’t finish the burgers already!” Riya exclaimed in a panic, shooing away their hands and pulling out her phone as fast as she could. Darius and Zafira exchanged glances and rolled their eyes before moving away from the table and crossing their arms in unison.

Riya finally took the picture and settled back into her seat with a smile. “You can dig in now, guys, go on. Oh my gosh, it looks so good, look at those crinkle cut chips! Mmmm…” She murmured as she rubbed her hands together.

“Finally!” Zafira groaned, before she quickly scooped up the burger and took a bite. Her eyes widened and rivalled Darius’ own expression of wonder.

“Oh… My…” Darius whispered, and even Riya looked shocked, something they didn’t often see at a fast food restaurant.

“This is…” Zafira mumbled, staring at her burger in amazement.

“...Art.” Riya finished off. The three of them nodded in agreement before diving back into their meals.

“Truly, no one does Grilled Sandwich like Wendy’s do.” Zafira said around a mouthful, “These chips! They’re so soft and potato-ey! I could eat these forever.” She moaned, washing everything down with a swig of her drink. She let out a loud, garbled burp and Darius and Riya looked up at her in surprise. They shared a funny look before they were once again roaring out in laughter. All of the customers around them looked at them weirdly and a girl sat at the far end of the outdoor eating area rolled her eyes. “High schoolers… just wait until you get into college, y’all won’t have much to laugh about then.” She shook her head, adjusting her headscarf and glasses before going back to using her laptop, labelled with an ‘Ifraah hearts Hayden Young’ sticker.

By the time they were finished with their meals, Zafira sat with her hands on her belly and a weird feeling inside her stomach. “Guys, is it me or are you feeling a bit nauseous too? This burger has done a number on me,” she groaned, “What did they even put in there?”

Darius and Riya sat back looking very content. “It must be you, that burger was…” Darius trailed off, kissing his fingers and throwing them in the air, “Simply beautiful!”

“Yeah, who cares about five-star restaurants anymore?!” Riya stated passionately.

…

It was only half an hour later when the trio had finished revelling in the aftermath of the food and that sumptuous free cookie, that Zafira felt the first gurgle in her stomach. “Uh oh…” She trailed off, eyes widening as her hands reached for her stomach in slow motion.

“What? What is it?” Riya asked, frowning at Zafira’s now sweaty face. “Are you OK? You look really hot…”

Zafira shook her head, hands flying to her mouth as she got up and raced towards the entrance of the diner.

“Zafira!” Darius called out after her. He exchanged a bewildered look with Riya. “What the heck?!”

Inside the diner, the Mercy Park Crew felt a sudden breeze as a blurry figure that looked an awful lot like Zafira rushed past them. “The hell?” Mona said, perplexed. Toby and Ximena watched the figure dart into the ladies’ bathroom and glanced at each other before shrugging and going back to what they were doing. Mona realised that the person looked awfully familiar and even Logan and Colt looked after the figure in surprise.

Zafira, however, paid no attention to her surroundings, and threw the closest stall door open before doubling over and emptying the contents of her stomach in a toilet. Damn, she thought, maybe Wendy’s really isn’t the one. Her stomach clenched once more before she was gripping each side of stall, desperate to not make any contact with the toilet bowl itself lest she contracted something even worse. The acid burned in her throat as sweat and tears rolled off her face. “Bloody… hell…” she coughed out, hastily pulling on the toilet roll to wipe her mouth, “I swear, if I vomit again, I’m gonna scre—” she dry heaved, slapping a hand over her mouth and squeezing her eyes shut. Zafira turned and leaned against the stall wall, breathing heavily. “I definitely have to sue these witches, what the hell did I eat?!” She grumbled.

As she walked over to the sinks, she caught sight of her reflection and groaned. Her face was red with dried tear tracks and her hair looked like a complete mess, “Great!” she mumbled, before washing out her mouth and cupping water in her hands to throw over her face.

Another lady came out of a stall further down and walked hesitantly towards the sinks. “Hey, are you, uh, OK? I heard someone retching their insides out…” She trailed off, as she began washing her hands, watching Zafira carefully in the mirror. Zafira couldn’t help but notice her large hoop earrings that had ‘Hamid’ written in the middle with a heart around the text.

“And you can only assume it was me because of how I look?”

The stranger gaped and blushed, looking down at their hands and scrubbing away furiously.

Zafira laughed. “I’m just kidding, don’t worry. Yeah, it was me. That dumb Grilled Chicken Sandwich must’ve been made with poison or something,” she groused.

“Oh no! Damn, maybe you should sue Wendy’s or something! Can I get you anything, though? A tissue, some water... a lawyer perhaps?” she added with a giggle, “I’m Mics.” She smiled, holding out her hand towards Zafira to shake. Zafira lifted her own hand towards hers but hesitated upon finding them both wet.

She looked up at Mics, “Wet handshake?”

“Wet handshake,” she confirmed, as they laughed.

Meanwhile, in the main section of the diner, Darius and Riya were fretting over Zafira and trying to figure out what to do after rushing after her. “Should we call an ambulance?!” Riya asked, fumbling over her phone and hastily trying to put in her pass code.

“No!” Darius exclaimed, throwing a hand over her phone screen, “...At least, not yet.”

“OK, let’s… take her home? Give her water, a blanket, put her in front of the fireplace, warm her up, but with a cold towel on her head, Netflix in one hand, popcorn in the oth—” Riya began listing off rapidly, marking them off on her fingers.

“I don’t think she needs all of that just yet, Babe. Let’s focus on making sure she’s alive first, and then take her home… Wait, how are we gonna take her home? We walked it here and probably didn’t bring enough money for a taxi or the bus home! Shit.” Darius groaned, rubbing his hands over his face beneath his glasses.

“Those driving lessons would’ve come in real handy, huh?” Riya said sadly, “Hang on, is that Logan over there? We can just ask him, right? I mean, he’s pretty much in love with Zafira, he’d do anything to make sure she was OK, wouldn’t he?”

Darius looked at his girlfriend weirdly, “Really? Like that wouldn’t be overstepping any boundaries at all?”

Riya threw her hands up in defense, “Like all boundaries weren’t dropped when he showed up outside school for Zafira?” she countered, looking at him pointedly.

“...Good point… weird and stalkerish point, but still…” Darius sighed, folding one arm and holding his chin with the other, scrutinising Logan.

Ximena looked up in that moment and noticed the two facing their table, looking at Logan specifically. “Hey, Logan, are those your friends or just some… creepy kids?” She asked, jutting her chin towards the two, confused. Neither of them seemed to notice, too lost in their inner turmoil.

Logan looked in their direction and frowned, “Those are… Zafira’s friends? What are they doing here?”

Riya snapped out of her reverie and noticed the entire table now looking towards them. “Crap!” she hissed under her breath, before shoving Darius towards the crew.

Darius made some incoherent noises in dispute but by the time he was done, he was in front of Logan with Riya’s hand firm on his back. He looked over his shoulder at her, widening his eyes with irritation while Riya gestured towards Logan with her eyes. Darius let out a long breath, pinching the bridge of his nose while turning towards the table. By then, they had all stopped eating and instead focused on the weird pair stood in front of them.

“Hey, uh… Logan, Riya here, is… proposing...” Darius trailed off, trying to figure out which of his eyes to look into and instead focusing on a spot between them. There was a long silence while everyone stared at Darius, waiting for him to continue, including Riya who was watching him with the most bewildered look.

“...Proposing? To Logan? That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard!” Colt broke the silence with a scoff, before he threw his head back, dissolving into laughter, “Who’d want to be with this loser, he’d probably smother you with his teen angst before you could get another word in!” He cackled, shaking his head while wiping at the corner of his eyes, “Damn, that was a good one, I haven’t laughed like that in a long while.”

Mona pressed her lips together to avoid laughing herself and Toby and Ximena side-eyed one another before turning away with smirks on their face. Logan narrowed his eyes at each of them before turning to Colt, “Are you done yet?”

Colt grinned cheekily, “By all means, go ahead.”

Logan rolled his eyes, turning back to Darius, “Go on.”

“Riya… wants-you-to-drive-Zafira-home-because-she’s-sick-and-probably-dying-in-the-bathroom-like-none-of-us-can-drive-and-you’re-just-sat-here-so-like-yeah-anyway-like-I-said-she’s-probably-dying-so-she-needs-to-go-home-you-know-to-get-better-and-recover-from-whatever-the-hell-just-happened-wouldn’t-you-rather-she-die-at-home-instead-of-in-a-Wendy’s-bathroom-like-c’mon-a-Wendy’s-bathroom-of-all-places-how-sad-like-wouldn’t-it-be-a-lot-nicer-if-she-died-at-home-or-something-not-that-I-want-her-to-die-but… yeah. So yeah.” Darius said as quickly as he could in one breath. He coughed into his fist and put his hands on his hips. “Right, my job here is done.” He stated with a nod of his head before turning around and marching resolutely into the ladies’ bathroom. Logan stared after him with his mouth agape, along with everyone else at the table. Riya stared at the swinging door of the bathroom before turning back towards Logan.

Toby looked between the now still door of the bathroom and Riya, “Did he just walk into the—”

“Ladies’ bathroom? Yeah.” Riya interrupted with a sheepish smile. “Sorry if we’re overstepping, but, like, we really wouldn’t be asking unless it was completely necessary, like, Zafira was literally about to die, like, you should’ve seen her face, you know what, she could actually be on the floor right now, drowning in her own vomit.”

Once again, there was complete silence at the table as they all stared at Riya. Mona raised a sharp eyebrow at her, “You know, saying Zafira’s drowning in her own vomit doesn’t make us any more likely to put her in our cars? It does the opposite. No matter how cute she is, I’m really not trying to get my seats stained in Wendy’s… Though, I would be willing to make an exception for Zafira, you know, I don’t want her to die in her own vomit, that would just be too tragic.” She mulled, twirling her straw around in a milkshake.

Before anyone could get another word in, the crew’s phones all pinged simultaneously and they exchanged a tense look before Ximena picked up her phone first. “It’s from Kaneko…” she trailed off.

“Need 4 of you at the garage in 10 mins, got 5 potential buyers lined up for a range of Mercedez-Benz 190 SL roadsters…” Mona started.

“Let me guess, I’m not included in that ‘4’, huh?” Colt rolled his eyes, slouching in his seat while sipping his drink.

“Colt, it’s the same gang we dealt with last time in the Mall, the ones that brought guns, so I don’t want you around them. Come back when the deal is done, until then, I don’t know, go hang out with that girl that you, Logan and Mona can’t seem to stop fighting over.” Toby finished with a shocked expression, “Is that, Boss, poking fun and bantering around? I never thought I’d see the day.” Toby whispered in amazement, adjusting his glasses and rereading the text message. Ximena grinned and looked at the three in question.

Colt seemed shocked upon the last part of the message, his expression not going unmissed by the rest of the gang. Logan and Mona raised an eyebrow, looking at Colt with intrigue before he quickly schooled his features and turned away, clearing his throat. “I could’ve done those deals just as well as the next person,” he grumbled.

“You should count yourself lucky, your dad’s trying to keep you safe and instead sending us into the line of fire,” Logan said with a shake of his head, “Thank your lucky stars.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll count them when I see ‘em.” Colt rolled his eyes.

“Really? Well, considering you’re going to be the one driving Zafira back, you should be getting ready to count them when you see her.” Mona said slyly with a smirk.

In that moment, Riya realised that they were all somehow acquainted with Zafira, making a mental note to ask her about them later.

Colt gaped at Mona as he opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said dismissively, choosing to stuff a handful of chips in his mouth to avoid more conversation.

“Sure.”

Colt narrowed his eyes at her as the rest of the crew stood up, getting ready to leave. Riya stood there watching them leave, confused as to what was going on.

Logan turned towards her and offered a sheepish smile, “I’m sorry, I can’t make it, I’ve gotta head back,” he said while rubbing the back of his neck, “looks like Colt will be the one driving her back, is that OK? You know, if you really want me to take her I can—“

“No, no! It’s fine, wouldn’t want you to get into trouble with your, uh, boss or anything…” Riya said quickly.

“Let us know how Zafira feels, Colt.” Ximena said, patting his shoulder. The crew began walking out, minus Colt, who was left in the booth staring into his drink absentmindedly.

“Yeah, if she’s not feeling any better, maybe we can drop by with some fancy meds and a gift basket or something,” said Toby, raising his eyebrows in excitement, as he slipped into Ximena’s car.

“OK, first of all, I don’t know why you’re excited about that, second of all, great idea, let’s just, us, the Mercy Park Crew, drop by Zafira’s house, where a cop resides.” Mona said sarcastically, as she unlocked the door of her own car.

Toby pouted, “Damn, I forgot about that.”

“C’mon, we’ll have to worry about Zafira later, it’s already been 5 minutes and you know how Kaneko hates it when someone’s late.” Logan said, sliding into his seat and sticking the keys in the ignition.

Back in the ladies’ bathroom, Zafira was surprised to see Darius walk in, who quickly threw his hands over his eyes. “Zafira, you in here? Look if you’re dying on the floor, drowning in your own vomit, then let me know, otherwise I’m keeping my hands on my eyes because I’d hate to look like a pervert or something, ya know?”

Zafira gaped at him before she let out a confused laugh, “Uh, Darius, what are you doing in here?”

“I came to see how you were feeling but also because I just told Logan that he should take you home because you’re not feeling well… so, let’s go, I’d hate for you to to meet your ending here in the bathroom.”

“Wait, what? You asked Logan? Why would you do that? Where did he even come from? I don’t need him to take me home, I can just wal—“ Zafira cut off with a heave, slapping her hand over her mouth and gripping the edge of the sink.

Darius removed his hands and quickly stood next to her, placing a hand on her back. “...You were saying? Look, just let him take you home and then you complain all you want back there, sound good?”

Zafira nodded her head miserably as Darius guided her out of the bathroom.

Thankfully for Riya, she saw Darius and Zafira make their way out of the bathroom before she felt the need to initiate small talk with the brooding Colt.

Darius steered Zafira to the table while she sighed, rubbing a hand over her face.

“Hang on, where’d everyone go? Where’s Logan?” Darius asked, looking around the diner confused.

“Colt? ...Don’t tell me the entire gang was here and we didn’t even know.” Zafira said with a laugh.

“...Wow. You look like you’ve been through hell.” Colt stated, looking at Zafira with slightly veiled worry.

“Thanks, it was really hot back there.” Zafira deadpanned.

Colt laughed and stood up. “C’mon, let’s get you home before you vomit all over my shoes.”

Zafira raised a brow and then leaned forward towards Colt, faking a dry heaving sound.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Not on the shoes! Not the shoes!” Colt yelled, jumping back onto the booth and backing away.

Zafira moved back before she burst out laughing, slapping her thigh. “Your face! Phew, that was a classic!” She wiped at the corners of her eyes as her giggles died down.

“You little…” Colt shook his head, folding his arms while glaring at Zafira. The waitress walked over and gave Colt a look.

“Could you please get off the booth, people sit in those.” Justine said before putting a hand on her hip, “I’d hate to have to call my manager out for this.”

Colt quickly jumped down and brushed himself off. “Sorry about that,” he said, coughing into his fist awkwardly, “Right, let’s go.”

He speed walked out of the diner and the trio quickly followed. On their way out, they passed a couple that were sat in the outdoor eating area, with one of them feeding the other that had their eyes closed. “Damien!” The lady called out, laughing while putting her hand over his eyes, “You’re supposed to guess by the taste, stop trying to peek! Stop trying to smell it too!”

“Khadi,” the man called Damien complained, placing his hand over hers and trying to pull it away, “this is too hard, let me be the one feeding you and you’ll see how hard it is!” He laughed, finally managing to free his eyes. He gasped upon seeing the piece in Khadi’s hand. “See! I knew it was a cookie!”

“Yeah, obviously! But you didn’t know which one, so your punishment is not getting the rest of it.” She stated proudly, popping the rest of it in her mouth while Damien watched in horror.

Zafira smiled to herself. Cute, she thought. But her smile dropped when she saw Colt’s motorbike. “Hang on, you’re taking me home on that?” She paled, placing a hand on her stomach, “That doesn’t sound like a such a good idea…”

Darius and Riya watched her with worry, and even Colt frowned.

“I would love to indulge in your car fantasies, which, on any other day, I would absolutely hate, but seeing as we have no other way of getting you home, the bike is the only option… Unless you want me to carry you all the way home.” Colt said, raising an eyebrow at Zafira.

Zafira furrowed her brow and sighed, “Fine, motorbike it is,” she turned to her friends, “I take it you’ll walk it?” she asked.

Darius and Riya nodded, “Don’t worry about us, you just focus on getting home in one piece.” Darius said sympathetically, patting Zafira’s shoulder.

“Yeah, in one piece that isn’t covered in vomit, please.” Colt added, swinging his leg over the bike and pulling his helmet on.

Zafira rolled her eyes and waved her friends off, “See ya later, yeah?” She jumped onto the bike behind Colt, taking the spare helmet from his hands and strapping herself in. “Hey, Colt, pull over to the side of the road when I give you a sign, unless you want chicken sandwich all the way down your back.” She laughed.

Colt rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time even though Zafira couldn’t see. “...You’re, OK though, right? Not thinking about dying anytime soon?” He asked hesitantly.

“Why? Would you miss me?” Zafira teased.

“Of course.” Colt said, without missing a beat.

Zafira’s eyes widened as she slid her arms around his waist, feeling the bike start up. She stared at the back of his helmet in shock, waiting for him to continue.

“Who else would talk shit about Logan with me?” Colt said. Zafira could practically hear the smile in his voice.

There it is, she thought while shaking her head, what were you hoping for, you fool.

Colt began driving out of the diner and down the path he knew a little too well now, trying not to pay attention to how Zafira’s arms were wrapped around him.

It was only halfway through the journey when Colt felt a few rapid taps on his shoulder. He frowned, before realising this was one of Zafira’s ‘signs’ and quickly looked for an opportunity to pull up to the side of the road.

As soon as he’d found a spot, Zafira was all but jumping off the bike and unfastening her helmet. She knew she’d hate to vomit all over someone’s lawn or a public walkway in general, so she pressed her lips together and couldn’t help but thank her lucky stars when she saw a bin sitting a few yards away, running over to the poor, unsuspecting thing.

As she hurled more of her meal out, Colt hurriedly parked the bike and rushed over to Zafira’s side. He blanked once he got to her and decided he would hold her hair back instead of standing around like a lamppost.

With his free hand, he poked about in his pockets looking for any tissues or anything else that would help the situation but fell short and instead chose to rub her back instead.

“Better out than in, am I right?” He said halfheartedly, frowning as she began taking deep breaths.

“Right, you’re probably not in the best position to be speaking right now, I’ll just let you vomit to your heart’s content.” He winced as she heaved once more and then stood up straight.

Thankfully, Zafira had managed to nab some napkins before she’d left so she managed to clean herself up as best she could. “What the fuck was in that burger that’s making me so cough up my insides so violently?! Do I need to sue these little shits.” Zafira exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips and blowing some hair out of her face.

Colt couldn’t help but smile and zone out for a second. How cute.

“Hello? Earth to Colt? Are you in there?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about how cute you look, you know, all sweaty, hair a mess, red in the face.”

Zafira gaped at him, “I… wha—?”

Colt smirked at her, “Cat got your tongue?”

Zafira narrowed her eyes, “You just wait until you catch me on a good day, ‘cute’ won’t even cover how good I look, and the cat will have your tongue.” She said, flipping her hair as best as she could over her shoulder.

Now it was Colt’s turn to gape at her, but he managed to recover enough to raise an eyebrow and have his charms back intact, “Well then, it’s a good thing that every other day is your good day, huh? Maybe that’s why I’m always so speechless whenever I first see you.” Colt slid his hands into his pockets, pinning her with that mesmerising look.

Zafira’s mouth opened and soon enough a bright pink blush had made its way onto her face. She stared into his dark eyes and found herself captivated, unable to break the gaze. “Are you… flirting with me right now?”

“Maybe.”

“Unbelievable.”

Colt managed to snap out of whatever he was preoccupied with and stared at her, somewhat confused.

“You’re really trying to charm a girl when she’s at her most vulnerable state, right after she vomited up a Wendy’s, knowing that she’ll have no choice but to get back on that bike with you, and have you drive her home where you’ll probably hint at wanting to be invited in.”

Colt gawked at Zafira, rendered speechless. “What?! I never—“

“I can’t believe you, Colt,” Zafira put her hands on her hips, “You’re an incorrigible flirt, just who do you think you are?”

“Whoa, hang on a minute! You’ve got the wrong end of the stick—“

Zafira gasped in horror, her hands flying up to her mouth, “You were trying to give me your stick?!” She almost screeched.

Colt threw his hands up in defence, taking a step back as his mouth dropped open in shock. Then he narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms again. “You’re fucking around with me, aren’t you?”

Zafira presses her lips together, a snort coming out against her will. “Sorry, you’re just too easy to play around with.” She burst out in full blown laughter, smacking her thigh.

Colt sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“I can think of a few things.” Zafira smiled coyly.

It was Colt’s turn to blush as his expression went slack. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

Zafira laughed, “C’mon, Lover Boy, you still need to take me home.”

…

It was when they were outside the Wheeler residence that Zafira once again felt that familiar lurching feeling in her stomach, “Oh no…” she moaned, unfastening the helmet as fast as she could for a second time that day. This time, Colt was slightly more prepared and he’d already parked the bike and dismounted it.

“Let’s get you inside, I don’t think anyone wants to see a girl projectile vomiting right about now.” Colt chuckled, wrapping one arm around her back and ushering her inside. But it was too late, Zafira felt the familiar burning of the acid in her throat and was heaving out small neutral coloured bits onto Colt’s shoes faster than she could tell Colt where the keys were.

There was a silence after Zafira had stopped hurling out her meal or rather, what was left of it.

“...” Colt blinked a couple of times, almost unseeingly.

“...Guess you no longer want to come in and give me your stick, huh?” Zafira said for no reason, with a weak laugh. She straightened up and pressed her hand to her face, trying to wipe away whatever had stained her mouth.

Colt stared at her for a few seconds before he burst out laughing. Zafira was shocked and slowly joined in, not caring how they must’ve looked to passersby.

“I can’t… I can’t believe you just... brought up the stick again... after you just threw up on me.” Colt said in between laughs.

Zafira’s laughter dissolved away and all she could do was stare at Colt’s shoes sympathetically, rather embarrassed.

“Those shoes, they didn’t cost much did they? This is awful, I’m so sorry.” She moaned, squeezing her eyes shut and dropping her head back.

“It’s fine, nothing that sweet, illegal money can’t fix.” Colt joked with a wink.

“Colt!” Zafira gasped, looking around furtively, “You can’t just say stuff like that out loud!”

“Why, will your dad appear out of nowhere if I say ‘illegal’ three times? No wait, maybe I should rub a briefcase full of a couple million dollars and then say it.” He wondered, putting his free hand on his chin and rubbing it thoughtfully.

Zafira shook her head and laughed, “Will you shut up?”

He grinned as they stared at each other again. It’s really quite easy to get lost in those eyes, Zafira thought, damn.

Zafira cleared her throat and looked away, fiddling around in her pockets to pull out the keys, but not without Colt catching that lovely pink blush on her face again. He smiled contently.

“Is your dad home?”

“No…why, you tryna give me some of that stick action?” Zafira wiggled her eyebrows up and down.

Colt pressed his lips together to avoid laughing. “We’re never gonna let that one go, are we?”

“Nope.” Zafira grinned.

Colt shook his head, “I was asking because I was looking forward to stealing that apple pie.”

Zafira sighed dramatically, “Even in a cop’s household, you can’t let go of your criminal behaviour.”

Colt narrowed his eyes, “You know, for the daughter of a cop, you’re awfully close to us criminals.”

“What can I say? I’m attracted to the dark side.” She joked, removing herself from his hold and guiding them inside. She took off her shoes and suddenly stopped, remembering Colt’s burger covered shoes. “Right, uh, give me your shoes, wait, and your jeans, I think I got those covered too.”

“Wow, you like to move fast, huh?”

“Shut up!” she slapped his shoulder, “You know what I mean!”

“Do I, though? Do I really?”

Zafira put her hands on her hips, “Hand over your things before I decide to shower you in chicken bits.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Colt grinned cheekily, as he kicked off his shoes and moved to unbuckle his belt, all while maintaining eye contact.

Zafira’s eyes widened, and she rapidly began turning pink once again, “I’ll, uh, go find some trousers while you, uh, yeah.”

“Oh, so now you’re shy. What happened to wanting the stick?” He teased.

“Not another word out of you, Colt.” She pointed at him, with narrowed eyes as she walked backwards. Colt saluted her with a wink.

Once Zafira was no longer within his sight and safely in the bathroom with a change of clothes, she placed a hand on her chest and took a deep breath in. What the hell is going on?! She shook her head and quickly washed up, throwing her clothes in the hamper and changing into a tank top and sweats. She looked at herself in the mirror and halfheartedly tied her hair up in a bun. “Yeah, this is fine. I’m not making an effort for no one, this is… fine.” She tried to reassure herself, dusting herself off absentmindedly.

“Hey, uh, Zafira? Are you really finding me some clothes right now or was this just part of your ulterior motive to get me half naked in the middle of your living room?” Colt yelled.

Zafira’s eyes widened and she hurried out of the bathroom into her father’s room, grabbing the first pair of combat trousers she saw. “Wow,” she scoffed, “how fitting.”

She raced back into the living room with one hand over her eyes. “I’m here, I’m here! Don’t be doing any weird half-naked things!”

Zafira held the trousers out in front of her, keeping her other hand firm over her eyes. When she felt him grab them from her hand, she spun around, giving him her back.

“Let me know when you’re done.”

“You scared of seeing a little thigh, Zafira?”

“No,” she said firmly, “I’m giving you privacy, you know, because I have manners?”

Colt laughed and after some more rustling sounds, he called out to her.

“Are you sure? I don’t trust you…” said Zafira.

“Yes, I’m sure. Why don’t you come over here and check?”

Zafira turned around with her eyes still closed. She slowly opened one and then the other, relieved to find him fully clothed. “Right, I’ll just, throw these in the washer and get them back to you as fast as I can. I don’t know about those shoes though…” She trailed off, looking concerned at the now chicken covered shoes.

“Relax,” Colt chuckled, “I’ll just, wash them… and then… donate them or recycle them somehow. Yeah. Maybe I’ll keep them, you know, as your first gift to me, Zafira vomit.”

Zafira scrunched up her nose, “Ew! No! Don’t do that… wait, what do you mean ‘first gift’?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. Were you not inviting me back here to tell me you have a huge crush on me?”

Zafira’s jaw dropped, “I do not have a huge crush on you!”

“Oh, my bad,” Colt frowned, “it’s just a small crush then?”

Zafira pinched the bridge of her nose, “What am I gonna do with you?”

Colt grinned, “This is beginning to feel a lot like déjà vu, don’t you think?”

Zafira shook her head with a small smile as she gingerly picked up the trousers and went to the utility room after dropping by the hamper. Once she’d started the wash, she slowly walked out into the living room where Colt was now gazing at her family photos. “You’re still here?”

Colt looked up at the sound, “Where else would I go?”

Zafira shrugged, looking out of the window to find the sky bathed in a warm orange, “I don’t know, home.”

“This place feels more like home to me right now…” he murmured.

Zafira bit her lip and looked around, desperate for a distraction of some sort. “Well, what better time to watch movies illegally than with a criminal by your side, right?”

She bounded over to the couch and pulled out her laptop from under some books as Colt watched her, amused. He slowly walked over and sat down next to her, wondering how he got so lucky to have someone like her in his life.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Zafira asked, turning her head to him.

“Well, for cleaning me up I guess,” he laughed quietly, “but also for giving me… a home of sorts. I can’t believe I’ve felt more love in this household than I have in my entire 20 years of living as Kaneko’s son. Is your dad looking to adopt any time soon?” Colt joked halfheartedly.

“Well, if you stick around, maybe he’ll take you in as his son-in-law.” Zafira said, turning back to the laptop with a small smile on her face.

Colt’s face warmed as his mouth opened in shock, “Was that... an indirect proposal just now?”

“Maybe.” She winked at him, focusing on picking a movie and smirking at his red, shell shocked face.

FIN.

Written by: @wzkdj (Instagram)

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