#i like how the orange one came out i'm gonna try to draw another like it

[catmeme]

some kitty scribbles from yesterday

[angel-eyes05]

What's In A Name

pairing: roronoa zoro x fem!reader

summary: as a master thief, you pride yourself on never getting caught. that is until you're caught by the straw hats as you try stealing from their ship. unable to turn you in to the authorities just yet, they'll have to make due with storing you on the going merry in the meantime. but, your time in confinement has allowed you to get particularly close to a certain swordsman. how close the two of you get is to be decided though.

warnings/info: nsfw mdni, oral sex (fem receiving), alcohol consumption, drunk/tipsy sex, face riding, my own sex headcanons for zoro are VERY clear here lmao ,takes place in between jaya and skypiea (please pretend theres more time at sea in between those arcs cause this will not work otherwise OK THANKS), this is for the pre-time skip zoro girlies (he's 19 pre-time skip dont come for me), no use of y/n, the first half of this is just cute shenanigans between reader and the straw hats. its a lot of character building stuff but i like it.

word count: 6.3k

notes: HI GUYS IM BACK IVE MADE MY RETURN I FOUND SOMETHING TO WRITE ABOUT!!!! and its the longest fic ive ever written too god damn what a comeback lmao. ok so i started watching one piece and im head over heels in love with this man...but i'm only up to water 7 rn so i only know how to properly write for pre-time skip zoro so thats how this is gonna go. i was looking for zoro/one piece fics to read but theyre literally all established relationship ones which aren't my cup of tea so im doing it myself lmao. also i didnt proofread i got too lazy sorry if some stuff doesnt make sense sorry sorry sorry but im a simple lazy tired girlie lmao enjoy!!

dividers by: @cafekitsune

You didn’t know any of their names.

You had been aboard the Going Merry for about three weeks now, and you still hadn’t learned anyone’s names. Granted, your reason for being there wasn’t to make friends anyway. That wasn’t particularly easy to do, being tied up in some storage closet and all. 

Being one of the few residents who actually lived on Jaya had allowed you to pick up a skill or two when it came to stealing. Pirates with big bounties and even bigger treasures left their ships unattended at the docks, leaving you with some perfect quick heists from time to time. Some steals were easier than others. As much as you believed in your talents, most of the time your ability to get out unscathed was based purely on the luck of the draw. It wasn’t an easy life, many recent nights leaving you with more injuries than berries and gold pieces, but it was all you knew having lived here for so long. 

After having taken a break from heists for a bit, you finally laid your eyes on a ship worth stealing from. A pirate ship with a goat out in front and seemingly orange trees next to the helm. Most of the ships at the dock had been there for a while, leaving the pirates on board used to your tricks already. Being low on cash was another factor. So, after a bit of planning, you made your way onto the ship.

Earlier, you had found that one of the windows to a cabin had been left open, so you decided to make your entrance through there. You gathered your things and dove into the crystal blue water by the dock. Once you made it to the back of the ship, you took your rope, with your own handmade grappling hook at the end, and swung it to hook on the window sill. Luckily for you, it stuck the landing on the first try. You smirked to yourself and used the hook as leverage to climb up onto the ship. Unfortunately, this seemed to be the ship’s bathroom. Not super ideal. You’d have to venture more out into the ship. But with this came the risk of getting caught. Given your dire circumstances though, it was a risk you were willing to take.

With an attempt to make as little creak as possible, you slightly opened the door into the rest of the interior. Coast was clear so far. Suddenly, a shake rattled throughout the interior. You tumbled onto the floor, pushing open a door due to your unbalance. What the fuck was that, you thought to yourself. It quickly became no matter though, when you noticed the door had opened up to a room with a treasure chest tucked away in the back. Jackpot. You slyly made your way into the room and shut the door behind you. 

The room was neatly kept, with bookshelves, a couch, two sleeping hammocks, and a desk with navigation tools on it. There was even a bar. Though temptation pursued at you, you had to stay on task. While making your way over to the chest, you heard different creaks vibrating across the walls of the ship. You prayed to yourself that it was just the wood’s reaction to the waves. As you had predicted, the chest was locked, so you searched your bag for anything that could key the lock. 

Time became of the essence quickly as the thuds and creaks on the ship grew louder and louder. Finally, the lock to the chest made a perfect click, as the chest unlocked. You lifted the roof of the chest to find a sight for sore eyes: jewels and gold galore. This was it, you were set. You were so in awe with the vision before you, that you had failed to notice the woman standing behind you. The image you saw in one of the emeralds was a tall figure, with jet-black hair just below her shoulders, and dazzling blue eyes. “Looking for something?” the woman questioned, almost sarcastically. You seemed to have forgotten rule number one of thieving. Remember to lock the door behind you.

Quick on your feet, you whip around to throw a punch in her face, but her reflexes seem to be quicker than yours by the way she catches your fist. You then attempt to kick out her legs. The image you see next shakes you to your core. A hand, seeming to appear out of thin air, attaches itself to your calf. The hand then slowly raises your fear-frozen body into the air, dangling you upside down like a party toy. You attempt to throw more hits at her, all seeming to be in vain though. You kick and scream, like a child throwing a tantrum, in an attempt to get out. The woman looks out into the hallway and signals over another one of her companions. Fuck, this is turning sour fast. Before you can make out any other features of the man, besides his cartoonishly long nose, he uses his slingshot to pelt a rock towards your forehead. Your vision goes black as the rest of the pirates rush into the room.

The rough fibers of the rope tying your wrists together were the first thing you felt as you woke up. This was quickly followed by the underlying nausea from the waves rocking the boat, reminding you why you preferred to stay on land. You attempted to stand up, but your dizziness and the rope tying you to the floor weren’t letting you get very far. Suddenly, the door to whatever room you were in swung open, and the group of 7 pirates living on board entered the room. You slinked yourself along the back wall, attempting to disappear into your skin. You weren’t sure what felt worse: The fear of what they were going to do to you, or the embarrassment that you had been doing this for so long and still got caught.

Nope, definitely the embarrassment.

The man, no boy was a better word to describe him, standing in the middle of them attempted to speak to you before a woman with short orange hair cut him off. “If you think we’re gonna let you get off easily just because we’re also pirates, you’d be sorely mistaken!” she spoke, fiery anger lacing her words. The tall woman from earlier put her hand on her shoulder, calming her down, and walked out towards you. You tried to scoot away as much as you could as she crouched down to your level. 

“Listen, we want this to be over as much as you do. We would love nothing more than to get you off our ship and drop you off at the nearest island. But unfortunately for us, that would mean having to find a group of marines to hand you over to, who we aren’t the best of friends with right now. And we can’t drop you back off at Jaya since we’re too far by this point. So, for now, we’ll just have to keep you tied down here if that works out with you.” You began to speak before the woman cut you off. “You don’t have much of a choice in the matter by the way.”

She stood back up and began to exit the room, the other pirates following her except for two. The boy with the straw hat and another man, with striking green hair and three swords lying in a holster on his belt. The boy looked somberly at you as if he was against this whole idea. But the green-haired one just stared at you. As uncomfortable as it made you feel, you couldn’t help staring back into his piercingly soft eyes. “Come on, let’s go,” the green-haired man said to the boy, finally breaking eye contact and turning his back to leave. The boy followed him shortly after. As he closed the door, you had nothing left to focus on except for the itchiness of the rope, the empty stuffiness surrounding the storage room, and your worsening seasickness.

The following weeks had the same routine. Each of the pirates on board took individual shifts watching you during the day when they were just out at sea. The strange reindeer creature would watch you when they were out on islands. The first shift was taken by the tall black-haired woman. She would come in at the break of dawn to make sure you didn’t find some way to escape at night. You two would sit in silence for a little more than two hours, asking and answering some questions before switching spots with the blonde one. His company was strange, with him hitting on you at random points in your conversations, but he always brought you breakfast in the morning. As much as he made you uncomfortable sometimes, you couldn’t deny that his cooking was the best you’d had in years. He’d even let you take a hit off his cigarettes if you ever asked, so his visits had its perks. 

The next shift was taken by the orange-haired one. The first thing she would always do when walking into the room was ask you how creepy the blonde one was. The answer varied on the day. Once she warmed up to you, she would bring you tangerines from the trees out on the deck. As the days passed, she eventually explained that the treasure you attempted to steal belonged to her, which you begrudgingly apologized for. On some level, you felt bad. These seemed to be small-time pirates, just trying to get by like you were. The more you learned about each of them, the worse you felt about your actions towards them. 

Around lunchtime, the long-nosed one would bring you your meal, cooked again by the blonde man. This member would go into detail about his next invention he was working on in his workshop. You admired his passion and energy towards his craft. His rants and rambles were normally interrupted by the reindeer creature coming in for his shift, causing intense, yet entertaining, arguments to break out between the two of them. The reindeer was the sweetest of all the crew members, always checking in on your health and helping you with your seasickness. He would talk about his home and his experiences there. You developed a pity for the creature. His presence was calming, and you felt as if you could let your guard down around him. That would change as soon as the straw hat boy would come bouncing into the room, scaring both you and the animal. You would soon come to learn the energetic boy was the captain of the ship, which shocked you. But you soon came to understand why. His crew had a massive respect for him, even if he was the root of half their problems.

Being on the ship, you got extremely close to all the pirates. Even the tall woman from before seemed to respect you in some way. You enjoyed all of their company. There was something strange about them though. One morning early in your stay on the ship, you could’ve sworn you’d heard the tall woman say something to the rest of the crew. 

“Whatever you do, don’t tell her your name. Your name is your biggest secret.”

You didn’t know any of their names. You had thought you heard some of them speak it to each other in passing conversations, but not enough to remember who was who. You had bonded with them, but if someone put a gun to your head and told you to name your prison guard pirates, you’d be dead in seconds.

Except for one.

Zoro seemed to be his name. He would come in for the last shift. His presence didn’t frighten you, but it slightly intimidated you. His habit of carrying his swords everywhere he went wasn’t helping. He was silent his entire shift, normally dosing off halfway through after spending around an hour sharpening his swords You didn’t even attempt to make conversation with him. You found out his name when the captain would yell for him to get back to his sleeping quarters. “Zoro! Your shift’s done, you can sleep for real now!” he shouted across the hall the first time it happened. Zoro almost bounced up from his sleep and gave you one look before bolting out of the room to catch up to the captain. You could hear the echoes of their bickering from down the hall as you giggled to yourself. At least he didn’t seem to always be that stern.

It seemed crazy to you. His name was the only one you knew, yet you knew the least about him. He had hardly said 5 sentences to you in the three weeks you had been on the boat. His stoicism was one of the things that drew you into him though. Something about his demeanor, how intensely he would sharpen his swords, how his worries seemed to melt away the minute he escaped into a slumber, and how alive he seemed when he was with his crew. It was enticing. You wanted to know more. You attempted asking him questions about himself, but the most you would get were one to two-word answers. The most you got from him was when your seasickness finally got to you, causing you to puke up the dinner the blonde one made for you. “Woah, are you okay?” he asked concernedly, shooting up from his seat. When your only response was a cough and more puke, he ran out of the room to go get the reindeer. One thing he failed to do was close the door behind him. 

You speculated your options. You had no idea where you were. You could be out in the middle of the ocean. Or you could be right about to dock at land. If you managed to scrape yourself about the ever-loosening rope and sneak out, you’d be free. You’d never have to worry about these pirates again. 

At this point though, did you want to?

You took too long to decide, the reindeer rushing into the room with his medical kit, the blonde one short behind him. As the reindeer gave you a dose of medicine and cleaned up your mess and the blonde one held your hand and consoled you, your attention stayed by the doorframe. Zoro leaned against the wood, watching the work from afar. What shocked you most of all was his face. For a man who seemed so disinterested in you and your existence, his brows were furrowed, his cheeks had a light pink stain on them, and a slight frown invaded his face. He was concerned. Maybe even a little nervous. But why? He’d never shown any sort of emotion towards you before other than sleepiness. Once the reindeer and the blonde one left, he continued with his shift. You noticed something though. He sat closer to you than he normally did. 

You couldn’t tell, but you were blushing the rest of his shift.

Once he left, you sat in silence, thoughts racing through your mind, until you finally fell asleep.

You noticed a change in his behavior in the next few days. When you would ask him a question, he would respond now. And with more than just a “yes” or “no” too. He had more energy around you and wouldn’t spend his whole shift asleep. He would even let out a chuckle now and then. You didn’t know what you had done differently to get him like this, but you liked him like this. He was sweeter than he let on. 

Something had changed in you too though. On the occasions, you would catch yourself looking over his appearance. The more you observed, the more you realized how handsome he was. His clear, warm skin, his hypnotic eyes, his striking hair. You caught his appearance giving you butterflies when he would walk into your storage room. Your heart skipping a beat when he would give you even the smallest smile. You would stare even more when he would nap during his shift. Noticing certain things. The way his breath would hitch sometimes. How he always slept with his mouth open and would wake himself up sometimes with his dry mouth coughs. How his chest rose and fell with his soft breaths. How fighting with a sword in his mouth probably made his tongue stronger than other men you’ve met. You felt weird about it sometimes. Almost like some freakish stalker. But you would feel better about yourself whenever you would catch him staring at you out of the corner of your eye. 

As time went on, the crew began to give you some more freedom. The tall woman began leaving some of her archeology books in the storage room to keep you entertained. The orange-haired one would show you all her marked-up maps. The long-nosed one would even let you out of the rope to test his inventions from time to time. With the door locked of course. And then, the big display came. One day, during everyone’s shift, they told you their names. The blonde one was Sanji. The orange-haired one was Nami. The reindeer was Chopper. The long-nosed one was Usopp. Their captain was Luffy. And the tall woman, who initiated your imprisonment, was Robin. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to you. With each passing shift, you grew more excited for the next. To learn the next pirate’s name, and with that, their story. Until the last shift of the day came. And you realized.

You already knew his name.

“My name’s Zoro,” he said quietly. “I know,” you replied, bluntly. 

Something felt different about this shift. You didn’t feel the same excitement you normally felt when seeing him. Without your connection to him before, his being the only name you knew, something about him just didn’t excite you as much. Now he noticed your behavior change. “You okay?” he inquired. “Mhm,” you responded in monotony. The rest of his time there was spent in silence. 

You felt bad about what you were doing. This wasn’t his fault. Yet you were acting like this. It was almost as if the two of you swapped places. He was now the one trying to dig information out of you. And you gave him nothing more than blank faces and empty words. You wished you could figure out why you were acting like this, but you had no clue.

Today though, the crew was going to take an extra step towards including you. Throughout your time on the Going Merry, you had only left your little storage room prison a few times. To go to the bathroom and visit the kitchen on special occasions. But you hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. After proving to the crew you had changed, they planned a little surprise for you.

Robin woke you up earlier than usual. “Is everything ok?” you asked, still half asleep. Robin just smiled at you. “Come on, get up.” You looked at her confused, as she walked over to your restraints, untying you from the hook keeping the rope down. She took you by your restraints and walked you out to the room. The mix of drowsiness and confusion left you slightly panicked as you realized she was walking you out to the deck. She opened the door to a still-dark morning. 

The rest of the Straw Hats were sitting out on the deck, just conversing and eating an extra early breakfast, courtesy of Sanji. They all turned to you once you and Robin walked out. “What’s going on,” you asked, still very confused. “On Thursdays, we all like to get up early and sit out and watch the sunrise. And we were talking about it, and we felt like you should join us this time,” Nami smiled. She stood up and pranced over to you, mouth slightly agape and speechless, and took you over to sit in between her and Zoro. You turned to Zoro, overwhelmed with emotions. 

It had been so long since you felt a part of a community of people. You never exactly fit in with the ruthless bands of pirates coming and going on Jaya. Finally feeling connected to people, especially after you wronged them so horribly, brought you happiness you hadn’t felt in ages. 

A singular “I-” was all you could manage to get out, a tear trickling down your cheek. “Just enjoy it. They’ll be at each other’s throats again in a minute,” he joked, getting a soft laugh out of you. He smiled gently, brushing the tear off your cheek. His finger lingered there longer than expected. You blushed. The butterflies were back and you caught yourself staring again.

“What’s that supposed to mean!” Nami interrupted. “Well, it’s true!” Zoro retorted, leaning over you to yell at Nami. The two began arguing as you noticed the sun starting to peak out over the horizon. “Shut up you two, you’re gonna make her miss it!” Usopp and Luffy yelled. They stopped bickering once they also noticed the sky begin to turn orange. 

The pinks and oranges mixed together in a beautiful watercolor painting as the sun reflected its image on the ocean. The soft waves bobbed the ship up and down in a calming hypnotic motion, almost putting you back to sleep. The beauty of it all was so serene. Against popular opinion, you always preferred sunrises to sunsets. The representation of a new day beginning. It gave you hope in your most dire situations. 

You lifted your head back to see the colors slowly spreading to the rest of the sky. Everyone to your right was in the same headspace you were like they were in some sort of trance. They were all cuddling against each other, Robin holding Chopper in her lap, Luffy and Usopp mimicking each other’s smiles, and Nami resting her head on Sanji’s shoulder. They all seemed so close to each other. Like a little family. Connected. You turned to Zoro to see if he was doing the same as the others, but all you found was his eyes softly gazing into yours, and his hand slowly inching towards yours. The minute he snapped out of it, he sharply turned his head and hand away and cleared his throat. You couldn't help but laugh at his schoolboy behavior. With your ego controlling your actions, you took his hand and slowly intertwined his fingers with yours. You could see a smile float onto his face out of the corner of your eye. You did the same.

The rest of the day was spent out on the deck. The feeling of the sun on your skin for the first time in weeks was euphoric. All you wanted to do was soak it all in. The Straw Hats must have been in a good mood today, because, with some extra convincing, you got them to finally take off your shackles. You spent most of the day sunbathing out on the deck with Nami. She had let you borrow one of your bikinis. You two were slightly different sizes though, so the suit was a little tight on you. You didn’t mind very much. You were just happy to be out of the same clothes you had worn for 3 weeks. Sanji didn’t mind either, ogling both you and Nami and basically worshipping the two of you. “It’s ok, he’ll get over it in a few hours,” Nami consoled. You circled the deck a few times to see if Zoro was anywhere in sight, but you couldn’t seem to find him. He probably went inside to nap away from the heat. Part of you wanted him to get the rest he deserved. The other really wanted him to see you in your outfit. 

The day really took a turn when Usopp brought out the liquor from the kitchen. “I was saving that asshole!” Sanji yelled. “Oh come on, this is a special occasion!” Usopp pleaded. With some more convincing, Sanji finally gave in. You and the crew got increasingly drunk throughout the evening, Zoro eventually coming out from wherever he was napping to join the party. You all had even decided to jump into the ocean and swim around for a little bit. All except for Chopper, very sober and very nervous for any incoming sea monsters. He had managed to get you all back onto the ship with some very convincing pleading.

You and Zoro caught each other catching glimpses of one another throughout the rest of the day. Zoro admiring your figure in the swimsuit, and you ogling at the way his damp shirt hugged at his muscles. One by one, as day grew into night, crew members began to pass out on the deck, deciding to sleep outside for the night. You and the other members who wanted to go back into the cabin, Zoro and Robin, made your way back down into the ship. “Make sure you tie her back up. No hard feelings but we can’t be too careful.” Even slightly tipsy, she was still her stern old self. “Yeah whatever whatever, goodnight to you too,” Zoro drunkenly pushed off. You giggled and blushed as he took your hand and led you down the stairs into the cabin. Robin sighed to herself as she watched the two of you scamper off.

You felt your heartbeat get increasingly faster as he led you to your room. For some reason, the air in the hallway got thicker as you got closer. You blamed it on your tipsiness. But your heart slowly sank as you got to the door, realizing you had to say goodbye to Zoro for the day. He opened the door and stumbled into your room, leading you in behind him. He closed the door behind him, hesitating for a moment before going to wrap the rope back around your wrists. 

He seems distressed for some reason, breathing heavily and avoiding eye contact. You look down at your hands, as he so gently maneuvers the rope around them. The butterflies begin to well up in your stomach again, the alcohol fueling their ferocity. His hands. So calloused yet so gentle. You can smell the remnants of sake exuding from Zoro’s heavy breaths. You looked back up at him. Were you two always standing this close together? You the butterflies keep rising and rising. You don’t know what to do with yourself. You’re not sure if you should run, kiss him, punch him, but you have to do something before you implode. Until. He stops.

The rope undoes itself in his hands as he freezes. His hands are shaking, his breath is heavy, and his eyes avoid yours like the plague. You were just getting antsy but Zoro seemed in distress. “Hey?” you ask, lowering your hands and dropping the rope to the floor. “Zoro?” You take your hand under his chin and lift his eyes to yours. You might throw up at any second. His eyes are so softly intense. 

He brushed his thumb against your cheek, sending chills down your spine. You both want the same thing. Both of you are just too scared to take the chance. “It’s ok. You’re okay,” you reassure him, placing your hand over his heart. His heart, which happens to be underneath his bare chest, him having taken off his wet shirt earlier. His breathing slows, and his eyes move down ever so smoothly from your eyes to your plump lips. You catch yourself doing the same to him, and you inching closer to him. “You’re fine.” Closer. “We’re gonna be…fine.” Your lips barely brush each other. The gentleness of the kiss is calming though, as you notice Zoro’s breath slowing. 

You brush again. And again. And again. Lips touching a little more with each meet. Until they fully interlock. The two of you melt into each other as Zoro wanders your back into a wall for support. Your kisses are structured, made to get the most out of each meeting. You’re both ravenous for each other, but you know if you go at each other like mad dogs, you won’t get what you want. So you both take your time getting to know the feeling of the other person’s mouth. You slip a moan out as Zoro’s tongue seeps between your lips. His kisses get slightly more sloppy as he runs his hands down your body. He feels the underneath of your breasts, the curves of your waist and hips, and finds a nice resting place under your ass. Your hands roam his cheeks and jaw, making their way to tug slightly on his moss-colored hair. 

“Needed this,” Zoro whispers in between kisses. “Needed you so badly. But I didn’t know how.” He separates his lips from yours and plants kisses and hickeys along your jaw and neck. “I was always just too nervous for some reason. You make me so nervous.” His hands find their way into your bikini bottom and fondle your asscheeks, getting a low moan out of you. The alcohol must’ve given him a confidence boost. “Good to see you found your footing now,” you whisper in his ear. He chuckles, the butterflies speeding up in your stomach. 

The two of you stay here for a little bit. Hell, you could stay like this for hours. Just soaking each other in. Feeling his warmth brought a fire into your soul. You could tell Zoro was getting a little antsy though, one of his hands moving from your back to your front, beginning to slowly circle your clit. The other hand went to your bikini, untying the back and letting it fall to the floor as his mouth moved to your breast. Waves of pleasure crashed through your body as you let him do his work. “God, you sure this is your first time?” you moaned out. He removed his mouth from your nipple to talk. “Never said it was, sweetheart. You just assumed it.” “Well from the loner vibe you got going on mixed with being on this ship 24/7, you can’t blame me for thinking that.” “Well the loner vibe worked on you, so who’s to say it hasn’t worked on others?” he smirked. You laughed to yourself as he got down on his knees.

Zoro slipped off your bikini bottom, completing the set on the floor. He kissed your v-line with the same softness he treated your lips to. He sat back on his knees for a moment to catch his breath, looking up at you, as if to ask for permission. You held your hand out to his cheek and rubbed it with your thumb. His eyes closed as he placed his hand over yours, as if you would ever take it away from him. God now this was a sight you could get used to. He was so infatuated with you it made your heart ache. He was right here at your disposal, yet you wanted more of him. So you bent down and gave him a sloppy forehead kiss. Once you were back up, he decided to go in. 

Like most things he does, he started slow and controlled. He kissed and sucked on your inner thighs. Once his hand finally left your clit, you knew he was ready. He kissed your cunt, using his tongue to lick up your wetness. You could pass out right now if you had less self-control. Whimpers and moans left your lips, your hips naturally starting to grind against his nose, relieving the ache in your clit. You let him know what felt good by the tugs and yanks you put in his hair. He was a natural. Your guess about his tongue earlier was right too. “You taste so good, just as I imagined,” Zoro breathed onto your lips. You could tell he was starting to lose his composure with the way he continued to bury his face into your pussy. Your cunt naturally tightened around his tongue as he tasted you. Your hips began to buck into his face as your grinding pace increased, the butterflies turning into a white heat you felt getting stronger and stronger. Your bud was becoming more swollen by the second. Your grip on his hair tightened to make up for your failing knees. 

You wouldn’t be able to take much more. Zoro wouldn’t either, his hand making its way into his pants to relieve his own bulge. His pace got faster to match your grinds. The smack of your lips against his tongue, mixed with both of your moans, was pornographically loud. Suddenly, the situation of Robin or another crew member hearing became an apparent one to you. That worry quickly left your mind once one of Zoro’s hands made its way to fondle your nipple. If he asked you to follow him anywhere right now, you might just do it if it meant this every other night. You felt he knew your body better than you did. “So pretty. So good for me. You make this so easy,” Zoro groaned between licks. “Zoro god fuck me please!” Your final whimper sent you over the edge as you wailed and came all over his perfect face. He licked up your juices as he finished his own job as well. Your knees finally gave out as you fell on top of him, into his arms.

He brought you down gently, straddling you on his lap as you wrapped your arms around him. He traced his cum soaked hand across your back and kissed your nape. You were more exhausted than expected, almost passing out in the crook of his neck. Even now, he was so gentle with you. “You did so good, darling,” he praised, kissing your earlobe. “Want…more…want you…inside me,” you managed to get out. He just laughed and pushed you up to look at you. “If you took me right now, I don’t think you’d wake up tomorrow morning. Look at you, you can barely keep your eyes open, sweetheart,” he teased. You pouted. “Oh, you feel that proud of yourself?” your drunkenness fueling your frustration. “No no no, sweetheart,” he chuckled. Once your frown didn’t change, he stopped laughing and pressed a kiss deep into your forehead. “I’m sorry. What I meant was, if I fucked you with everything I have left right now, which is the only way I would want to do it, this floor would leave us with sore backs for weeks.” You stayed frowning. “I want to fuck you right, the way you deserve. And I can’t do it for you right now.” You pouted more at him. He smiled up at you and leaned in closer to your ear. “If you trust me, I promise I’ll make it worth your while. You’ll be walking funny for weeks.” God, you almost came again just now. You didn’t notice how much your jaw dropped until Zoro laughed at you. You couldn’t help but laugh back in tune with his infectious laughter. 

He kissed you with a fever behind his lips, then scanned the room around the two of you. “What’s wrong?” you drowsily asked. The exhaustion from you coming, the sleepiness brought by the alcohol, and how late it was getting was starting to overpower you. Zoro didn’t respond. He just grabbed your swimsuit and helped you put it back on, tightened your legs around his hips, and hoisted you up as he stood. You decided to ask questions once you had a clearer idea of what was happening. He opened the door and walked with you down the hallway, passing the girl’s quarters and into the men’s room. He checked inside quickly before bringing you in and signaling you to bring your legs down. You confusedly followed him to his bed as he groaned, rubbed his back, and sat down on the edge of the bunk. “Wanna explain to me what you’re doing?” you asked, slightly more awake. “If you think I’m just gonna leave you to sleep alone, tied up, on that dirty floor after what we just did, then you must think I’m a really shitty guy,” Zoro quipped before getting under the covers and trying to pull you down. You put some resistance towards him though. 

“B-but Zoro, I’m not supposed to be in here.”

“I know.”

“If someone catches me in here we’re both fucked.”

“They won’t catch you.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ll wake up before Robin starts her shift.”

“Are you sure, I mean I just don’t kn-.”

“Hey.”

You stop your nervous rabbling and look at him as he sits back up. “Do you want to go back and sleep on the cold, dirty, hard floor?” You really didn’t. “No.” “Then stay here with me.” “But what if-.” “Do you trust me?”

You sure hope you did after all of that. His kind eyes reassured you in the darkness surrounding the two of you. You took a deep breath and nodded. “Do you trust me?” he asked again. “I trust you, Zoro,” you confirmed. He smiled kindly at you. “You’re fine. We’re gonna be fine.” He steadied you by placing his hands on your hips, running his hands along your waist, and pressing his lips into your tummy. You loved the way he looked at you. Like you were his whole world. It was comforting.

He took your hand and helped you into bed. You bundled yourself under the covers and wrapped yourself around his frame. He kissed your temples one more time before slipping into sleep, his light snores hypnotizing you into a slumber of your own.

The last thing you remember before dozing off was the feeling of his hands on your waist.

Everything you wanted was right here. In front of you. Straight out of a dream. Your only fear was that it would be gone once you woke up.

a/n: THIS TOOK FOREVER GOOD LORD. anyways thanks for being here for my comeback era lol. my upload schedule is NOT going to be consistent this is just a little splurge i wanted to write lol. thank you for reading i really appreciate it (i also really appreciate engagement lol please like repost comment etc im greedy). i love one piece and i love zoro. once i meet law expect all hell to break loose im gonna write so much fanfiction about him its concerning hes so fine im so excited. anyways lol thanks love you bye.

[zeroducks-2]

Could I ask for a number 10 or 21?? Whatever you want. Both sound insane for sladick. <3

10. "Don't you dare" + 21. "Say my name" - Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson

(TW drowning, non-descriptive torture)

Waterboarding isn't the type of torture that should be attempted by amateurs, given that everything can go very wrong in a matter of seconds.

Dick is well capable of holding his breath underwater for more than five minutes. Not that much more than five minutes, but still. And it's probably because of it that his "interviewer" gets a bit overexcited, and decides to just... hold his head into the metal vat, without letting him up. At all. Dick makes a show of thrashing and trying to kick after less than ninety seconds, but it doesn't work and the asshole clubs him at the base of his back, strong enough for something in his pelvis to break, and Dick's focus is gone.

Water starts getting in his lungs and panic is quick to set in, but adrenaline fuels his burning muscles as Dick forcefully emerges with a snap, nape colliding with that fucker's face accompanied by the telltale crack of a nose breaking. And just like that he's out of the water but he still can't breathe. Regardless of how much he tries to cough and hack, his lungs stay full and it's with more rising panic that he realizes to be suffocating on the floor of the interrogation room.

He doesn't really feel it when someone lifts him up and cuts the rope around his wrists, he just registers that his arms now are free and there's pressure just below his rib-cage, then nothing, then a blow that forces him to bend over and expel a mouthful of water.

«Don't you dare.» A snarl comes from behind his back, then there's another blow to his upper abdomen, upsetting his already broken ribs, and Dick would likely scream if it wasn't that there is no room for air in his lungs. More water comes out. «Don't you fucking dare, kid. Breathe.»

Dick tries his best, fumbling for air and managing a strangled cry when more pressure forces him to cough, and finally he manages to gasp and draw a sliver of air in.

Again he's not sure exactly what happens after that, but at some point he's being held against someone's side, still mildly coughing but he's pretty sure he isn't going to die at this point. He chances a look around and sees the man who was interrogating him; he's lying face down in a pool of blood, and Dick's eyes narrow, he can't have killed him. He broke his nose, didn't he? But just that, the man shouldn't be dead. What the hell.

«There you are.»

Dick's head gets pulled up as he's held more upright, and he manages to sit up with a grunt, ignoring the pain all over. He frowns at the black and orange of the man's mask, and his addled brain puts together that Deathstroke is the one who killed Dick's torturer; all that blood comes from a bullet in the head, not a stupid broken nose. «Look up here.» There's a quiet hiss of smoke and then the man's helmet goes, showing gray hair and a sharp blue eye. Dick winces at his frown and looks away, but the other snaps his fingers and makes him reflexively look back. «Say my name.»

«Hn. Slade.» He croaks, but a moment later he's surprised to see the man's expression distend in relief.

«Yeah.» Slade roughly runs a hand through his damp hair on the nape, and weird as it is to acknowledge it, holds him tighter for a moment. «You're okay.»

«Were you... hah... doubting it...?» He rasps out, forcing a grin, and the man replies with a glare.

«What the hell came into you.» Slade pinches his chin with his usual "no arguments" tone, his glower staying. «I'm the one who decides when you work alone and when not. You were not supposed to take initiative.»

«What are you gonna do?» Dick coughs, having to turn around to expel more water. Slade lets him, helping him stay up in the process. «...punish me?»

«You know very well that I should.»

That's what Slade would normally do for a job badly done. It hasn't happened in a while though, and it's not like Dick remembers it fondly, but also... well, he kind of thinks he deserves it, because he really did mess up this time. He's gotten himself captured, to name one. Fledgling nonsense, that's what this is. At least he didn't speak a word and revealed absolutely nothing, even if it resulted in almost an entire week of starvation, a leg broken in two parts, a dislocated shoulder, contusions over the entirety of his back...

«Did they-» Slade narrows his eye and a flash passes through it, something wild that in another situation would make Dick wary. «Did they touch you...?»

Dick knows what that means. He shakes his head, not that it would change the fate of the people who captured him. He knows they're all dead already, or anyway they will be soon. But... at least it can help Slade's peace of mind. It's going to take a bit more convincing though, given the searching stare and the way the man grips him tight. Dick sighs and it sounds wet like he's had a chest infection, and tightens both hands on the man's biceps, forcing his swollen left arm to move.

«They didn't.» He says, trying to sound as assured as he can. «They didn't, Slade, I swear. They just beat me up. They wanted to know about you but they didn't make it personal... just this one,» he nods to the body of the man who went this close to drowning him. «I guess he had a few screws loose. But the others were, heh... pretty professional.»

The lines of Slade's face remain hard but there's something that unspools in his expression, Dick can tell. «Alright.» He concedes, touching a thumb to Dick's cheek subtly and briefly enough that Dick isn't sure he hasn't imagined it. «Now let's get out of here.»

Thank you for asking anon ♥ Here's the prompt list for whoever wants to peruse it, or send me another prompt :)

[drawingpad-studios]

Got another final design for As Thin As Paper Bosses.

Just one because of the funny photos I ended up with while designing.

TW for Blood of course

So here's Base Cleph's, the 5th chapter final boss

Prowling:

Attacking(didn't have room for his eye hallucinations, and also I changed my eye style a bit and idk if it would fit this. The hallucinations pretty much are the same as the concept art):

I'mma be real. There are aspects of this design that were inspired by the drawings @theothergueck did for this version of Base Cleph. I liked the idea of Base Cleph being a robot spider, more than his original completely organic body and grasshopper(his wings were to make noise like a grasshopper when attacking) inspiration. Honestly I'm glad I came to like this version of this version of Base Cleph, because now I can possibly have a part of the chapter be where he knocks you out, ties you up, monologues, and you have to escape.

I still kept his inside flesh organic for a grilled cheese-like blood pull, whenever his body goes full "demogorgon", and his head completely organic so that he could physically do the whole wide as fuck smile and eye stretching. Basically his body(and technically joints, but the sprite covers most of his joints) is the only thing robotic. So I guess he's technically a cyborg spider now.

Now with what the fuck happened to him:

As the game became unplayable, Base Cleph was left alone with his thoughts. Especially his thoughts of his screentime compared to how useful he thinks he is. Getting more and more upset and angry at how useless he is presented. With this strong insecurity, it attracted the glitches and bugs like moths to a lamp. The glitches and bugs twisting this insecurity to the point where he got so made that he started attacking those that he deams useless and/or have more screentime(with the screentime being excused if the character deemed useful). He has once attacked two characters in particular that have more screentime; an orange haired girl and a white haired guy. He done this to try to get more screentime by being a villain. One character in particular he is hunting down is Protagonist, because he sees them/you as the least useful while they/you have the most screentime.

With Chapter 5 being his chapter, and his name being "Detect Evaluate Attack Feast" and his demeanor is of the above, his chapter gimmick is to run and escape. With the chases and such being easier if you end up keeping Otempus after his chapter(because Base Cleph still respects that man and sees him as useful, no demeanor change will change that).

Though I think I already said run of a gimmick for another character, but I can change that character's chapter gimmick because it fits Base Cleph's more.

Anyways here's some bonus content. The photos that made me laugh while making his final design to where I couldn't continue making the other final designs for now:

I was trying to use the Extract Line Filter but I was in the wrong category and used the fisheye lens, and I just kept it because I just thought of the meme and finished the mistake.

*bad Duchman impression* "And stop staring at me with those big ol' eyes"

The next characters I'm gonna do are: Tretone, Antagon, Lanter, and Rozanda. So stay tuned to see what I do with their final designs.

[jayietheriverwarrior]

Aaaaaaaand since I started this drawing yet another of the wolves in it seems to have died. Whoops. *sobbing*

Okay so I follow a lot of Warriors and Lion King fan comics and I've made fanart for them before, but I also follow a few original animal comics, and I don't think any of them have made me feel so emotional and hit me so hard in the heart (except for maybe What Lurks Beneath, but that's less straight-up sad and more complicated political stuff) as To Catch a Star by SleepySundae on DeviantArt. If you haven't read it, you can check it out here: To Catch a Star Cover by SleepySundae on DeviantArt but as warned this description is gonna have heavy spoilers for the recent pages.

That said, with the recent death of Ash, and now Shadow while I was in the process of drawing this (I assume she's dead anyway, with her closing her eyes), I just knew I had to draw our favorite trio back when they were happy, when Ash was finally growing big and strong and well-fed, when everyone had worked through a lot of their trauma and come out of the other side of it happier and healthier, when they were just traveling together as a pack of oddities and misfits - Backlash the underfed and abused Dusky, the dark-pelted rebel Nova with no memory of who she was, and the emotionless and nameless mortal form of the sun - who came together as wary allies and eventually became a family - Ash, Shadow, and Lupi. SleepySundae has created some truly memorable characters and made us love them and the bonds between them. My heart is broken for what they've been through and lost, and I can only hope that we can somehow snatch some semblance of a happy ending out of all of this tragedy.

I was originally going to only loosely pull from multiple image references, but then I found one photo that perfectly captured the exact vibe I was going for, so I ended up referencing it pretty heavily. ^^ You can see it here. I had a lot of fun trying to blend my realistic style with the more stylized designs and colors of these characters. I'm not totally happy with how Shadow turned out, but I'm super super proud of how Ash and Lupi turned out. :D I referenced the QnA's for an idea of how to draw their eyes with just the iris colors, though I did kind of a combo of both that and the main comic style for Lupi by including white, yellow, and the orange pupil color as sort of a gradient? I dunno, I think it works. They're hanging out in some random forest in the upper sunny islands, just taking a moment to chill together in the warmth of the sun's rays on a couple of mossy rocks. Not sure if there's any location that looks like that in their world, but I remember seeing some foresty areas in the upper islands when Lupi first brought Ash there, so hopefully that works. ^^

[enbyhoshi]

ao3 wrapped 2023

hello again! i only ended up writing (+ posting) two fics this year (total of 16,033 words) compared to the staggering seven of last year - so i went back and forth a lot about whether i should even make this post, but i ended up doing it anyways! here we go!

🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟

from the start

wonhao, 7.4k, G, library co-owners to lovers

minghao fest fic! to be honest, i wasn't really planning on joining the fest as i hadn't written minghao before and was too nervous to, but after seeing this prompt i just couldn't pass it up. and thank god i didn't! one of my favorite types of fics is where the story takes place or focuses on the main pairing's (along with the rest/some of the other characters in whatever media is being written about) workplace, especially when it's super specific lol. and who doesn't love a lil library romance? wonhao were made for this. another favorite thing of mine, this time more on the writing side, is sneaking small references to other loved medias hehe. this time it's a reference to the dimension 20 season the unsleeping city: chapter 2 episode 1 with minghao cleaning up the orange juice in the romance section. very random but ¯\_(��)_/¯

favorite part:

“Oh,” Wonwoo mumbles. He looks a little out of it, like he’s as shocked about this whole situation as Minghao is. “Cool. I mean– that’s good. I didn’t have a plan if you ended rejecting me.” “Quit your job and move to another country?” Minghao jokes, despite the fast beating of his heart. “And what about our child?” Wonwoo jokes with him, voice a little weak. Minghao tries not to think about how he’s the cause of that. “We can’t have it travelling between countries all the time.” “I can’t believe you just told me you love me while I’m covered in orange juice.” Minghao says, trying to swallow down the huge smile that wants to break out. “This is the worst possible place for a love confession.” “Well,” Wonwoo says and his eyes dart to something above Minghao’s head and when he looks it’s the label of the particular section they’re in. It’s the Romance section. “I’d say it’s pretty fitting.”

2. untouched

soonhao, 8.6k, M, gg!bss & their stylist hao

girlies.... another minghao fest fic lol! this fic was somewhat of a surprise, since i came up with this prompt on a whim and just kinda put it on the ever-growing wip pile. and then the 2nd round for mhf happened and thought you know what! might as well! in my mind, this fic was supposed to be way different than what it ended up being tone-wise. think more angsty, more toxic, more i-just-broke-up-with-my-boyfriend-and-i-know-you-desire-me-carnally-so-i'm-gonna-use-you-as-a-rebound. basically toxic yuri but make it soonhao. unfortunately it got lost in translation and it turned out more like a typical fic but maybe its for the better lol.

favorite part:

“I did,” Minghao says. “It was good. Do you really have the acorn hat in your bag all the time?” A bashful smile breaks out on Soonyoung’s face. “You know I don’t. I just thought it’d be a fun anecdote.” Minghao smiles back at her. Her hand reaches out to move the hair from Soonyoung’s eyes but then she realises what she’s doing and draws her hand back. “The jeans too?” she says like nothing happened. “That was more…” Soonyoung looks away like she’s thinking about it, her smile turning into something softer now. “More of a personal moment that I wanted to share, I guess.”

🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟💗🌟

and that's it! truthfully, i was trying to finished at least one more fic before the year ended - and then i got sick (still am) and could barely look at a screen for more than 20 mins (still can't) lol. hopefully that fic gets published early next year then :) thank you for reading this far! see you in 2024!

[luckydragon10]

KinnPorsche Ep08 Lines of Power

Deep breath, everyone! This is probably our last chance to breathe easily before the finale. Enjoy the calming atmosphere while it lasts.

Without further ado, I shall address the lines of power, staging, and framing in Episode 8 of KinnPorsche... actually, I'm gonna take it easy because it was a very chill episode without too much wild, crazy line business.

More LoP posts: [Trailer] ... [Ep04] [Ep05] [Ep06] [Ep07] [Ep09 Part 1] [Ep09 Part 2]

Look, if you didn't already realize in the first 10 minutes that this episode is pure comedy, this shot should seal the deal. A head popping out at a random angle from a doorway is peak comedy, a pure classic staging art.

Porsche, why so cute? 😳

You guys. You guys. This looks like just a normal, cute shot on their date, right? Right?

WRONG. You've been FOOLED.

Look in the background. It's a mirror, another damn mirror!

Kinn is perfectly framed in the mirror, his other self haunting their date in a much more subtle way than Tawan did. This is a clever reminder that even though things seem sweet and fluffy now, they still have Kinn's alter ego and other life to contend with (and integrate?) if they want to be happy in the long run.

I haven't had a chance to review it yet, but I know @daltoneering has published a huuuuge meta about the mirrors in KP, so check that out for more mirror thoughts.

Nope, nothing serious. Head empty, only cute boy with beautiful golden Wat Arun temple to frame his face from the background.

Now, I ask you, what's better than one cute boy with a beautiful temple behind him?

Answer: TWO cute boys with a beautiful temple behind them!

Again, nothing serious here, but I just want to point out that the sweethearts are off center to better incorporate the pretty golden glow of the temple behind them into the shot.

You can also take this as slight foreshadowing of the religious element coming later in the episode.

The lines of power were a bit shy this episode, but for this scene, they came out in full force.

This is reminiscent of the Emperor Korn shot in Ep 05 (for good reason considering they're the same set), but this is so different and so romantic. The sparkles from the waterfall, the glowing lines of the pool, and the lower lines of the ceiling are all pointing to the central couple, giving them the focus and the power.

The lines say this is love, and love wins.

Steal every bit of happiness you can! (I'm not just saying that to Kinn and Porsche, btw.)

Lots of soft, wavey lines of light... I can't help but think that all the soft lines are helping to emphasize how much their relationship has softened.

Yet the shot also shows Porsche clutching at Kinn's face for dear life. I'm not over that, not in the slightest. The boy is holding on with all his might. He's gonna be fierce about it.

...he probably also needs some air.

Q: When is a line of power not a line of power?

A; When you really just need a divider.

I could try to say that the big thick wooden line in the middle symbolizes this or that, or it's about Porsche being sneaky and not just asking Kinn the questions he should ask... but sometimes a line really is just a line.

For this gag to work, the characters have to be divided and unable to see each other.

So? Not a line of power, imo. But the shot is still very nicely framed with dynamic composition.

Pretty, so damn pretty.

Great staging composition of the three cast members -- Porsche low, monk middle, Joe high.

Scenery is fantastic and engaging from foreground to background.

The angle of the sidewalk line on the left helps draw attention to the actors.

On top of it all, Porsche stands out in his black suit against the soft white, cream, and orange color palette.

If you didn't give this shot much thought during the show, take a minute to stare right now. Enjoy an aesthetic moment!

///

More LoP posts: [Trailer] ... [Ep04] [Ep05] [Ep06] [Ep07] [Ep09 Part 1] [Ep09 Part 2]

For LOTS of great meta from all over the Tumblr community and dozens and dozens of contributors, check out the Damn Good KinnPorsche Meta doc.

Also, absolutely shameless plug, but today I posted the prologue for my soulmate AU fic. It's going to be a wild ride and a big multichapter fic, so hop on board early: The King's Tree.

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch.5

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4

Summary: someone please give Nicole a break for the love of Miranda. And there be smut y'all

---

Seeing Cassandra's softer side made something flutter within Nicole's chest. The brunette was a sadist through and through. Witness to that fact was the array of torture devices that littered the dungeons. Not to mention the prisoners she frequently killed, only to haul them on the autopsy tables in her study to be examined, chopped and sectioned by the both of them.

But there was an uncharacteristic sort of gentleness in the way their lips slid against each other, sharp teeth occasionally biting down on Nicole's lower lip but never enough to draw blood. In the way Cassandra would drag sharp nails against flushed skin, but not go beyond the pleasurable amount of pain. Even the glint in golden eyes when Nicole went over some old notes of hers on more tricky anatomy concepts. Having an exclusive look at this side of Cassandra felt beyond intimate and the thought almost made her miss when the brunette spoke from where she was leaning over a notebook.

"Okay let's just wrap this up, I have plans."

Nicole hummed, dropping the liver she was holding in a freezer bag. Most body parts were already bagged and ready to be picked up by Cynthia and her undercooks, they were just putting into practice some things the brunette was curious about. She dropped the now blood soaked leather gloves in the sink and went to sit by Cassandra, who was scribbling some final notes.

"In that case I'll go enjoy a cup of tea," she sighed. "Tea that I had to skip because someone was eager to start on this early."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow at her, accompanied by her usual smirk. "I meant plans with you."

Oh? That was new. The brunette laughed at Nicole's wide eyed expression and snapped her notebook shut. She took her sweet time putting it on the shelf with the others and checking the time, pretending not to notice the redhead's inquisitive expression. Then, she lifted Nicole’s chin with a thankfully not covered in blood finger.

"Don't get me wrong I love it here but," she grimaced, "it gets stuffy sometimes. Especially in summer."

Well, that much was true. The undergrounds of the castle were oddly warm, although not downright hot, compared to what one would expect from a castle. Pair that with the annoyingly humid atmosphere and having to wear a leather apron and gloves so as to not completely ruin your outfit and you got the perfect recipe for discomfort. She really ought to ask Cassandra about installing some kind of better ventilation down here.

"Meet me in the attic in about… an hour." She leaned down and their mouths were so close that Nicole could feel icy breath on her lips.

The attic? She's never been to the attic, it was not only off limits for most staff but also dangerous if rumors were to be believed. Not that she had the clarity of mind to voice any concerns when Cassandra finally leaned in to kiss her, complete with a nip on her lower lip that made Nicole’s breath hitch.

---

The fact that Nicole had no idea how to get to the attic could be a slight problem. She had asked Anita, but not only did she not know, she also seemed mortified by the idea. Another maid just gave her vague directions to look for a ladder on the top floor. As if that wasn't like trying to find the needle in a haystack. Or the needle in a giant castle.

She was just wandering around the top floor, praying not to stumble upon anyone who would be less than thrilled to see her there. A sigh of relief escaped past her lips when she heard familiar buzzing and steps coming towards her.

"Oh Cas-" she swallowed her words when she noticed red hair spilling from underneath a black hood.

"Nicole! What are you doing here hmm?" Her inquisitive hum was way too exaggerated the same way her fangs seemed too sharp when she grinned.

"I was just looking for Ca- lady Cassandra. She asked me to meet her in the attic."

Daniela's mouth fell open, almost forming an O shape. Then back to her characteristic giggle, almost as if laughing at a joke only she knew.

"What, you don't know how to get there?"

"...Not really," she sheepishly admitted.

And that was a mistake. Nicole would've preferred to wander the hallways until Cassandra eventually got bored enough of waiting and decided to come see where her glorified lab partner was. But her plan was ruined by Daniela wordlessly grabbing her arm and pulling her in the opposite direction she was going in. She even went the extra mile to partially turn into a swarm, which made Nicole's panic skyrocket. She didn't mind bugs. But having hundreds of them fly all around you, accompanied by manic giggling was a whole other thing.

Before she knew it though, Daniela let go of her arm, laughing a little at Nicole's stumbling. She gestured dramatically towards a ladder and said:

"There you go. Say hi to Cassie for me."

"Th- thank you my lady." And with a small bow of the head she grabbed the ladder and started ascending on shaky legs.

"And enjoy your date," she called out, once Nicole was at the top of the stairs.

Blushing, she decided to ignore the comment and start looking for the sister less likely to turn her into fly food.

The attic looked… old. It was obvious that people didn't come here often, although someone probably did clean it regularly as there were no cobwebs nor dirt on any surfaces, aside from some dust. It was full of neatly arranged boxes and crates, their contents as mysterious as the castle's inhabitants. Tentative steps took her across ancient floorboards, navigating old rooms.

"Rah!"

Nicole damn near jumped out of her skin, a string of curses spilling past her lips. "Jesus fucking christ Cassandra!"

The brunette only laughed, hands on her knees and pretending to wipe a tear from her eye.

"That's what you get for making me wait for so long."

"I didn't even know where the attic entrance was! Good thing one of your sisters came to my rescue." Nicole rolled her eyes at the last word.

Cassandra stopped laughing, eyes narrowing slightly. "Which one?"

"Uh- Danie-"

"Did she hurt you?" Cassandra grabbed her arms, golden eyes looking for any visible injuries.

Nicole just laughed softly, taken off guard by the display of concern. "No, no. Just gave me a bit of a fright, that's all."

With an eye roll, Cassandra guided her further into the attic, through more dusty rooms, until they reached a short corridor, light spilling from its other end. The room they entered was relatively small, almost half of it occupied by stacked boxes as if it used to be a storage room like the rest of the attic and nobody bothered to completely clear it out. A few pieces of furniture were also present: a couch with a coffee table in front of it and paintings leaning against a wall to collect dust. This room however had a window, left slightly ajar, that allowed you to see the mountains stretching on the horizon, crowned by the beautiful orange hues of dusk.

Nicole moved to the glass to take in the view, mouth almost hanging open, when an ungodly screech from outside made her backpedal straight into Cassandra.

"What the fuck was that?" She asked, eyes widening at the sight of flying creatures circling the towers.

"Mother's flying guard dogs."

"They sound the same way I'd imagine the souls of the damned do." Nicole didn’t take her eyes off the ghoulish creatures, almost as if keeping eye contact would dissuade them from attacking.

Cassandra just shrugged. "Wouldn't be too far off. Also here." She sat on the couch, gesturing towards a cup.

Nicole went to sit by her side, grabbing the mystery cup. She frowned slightly when the steam reached her nose, bringing with it a pleasant minty and honey aroma.

"Tea?"

"Since you were so disheartened about having to skip it earlier," Cassandra averted her eyes, seemingly finding the curtains very interesting.

After a long sip, she let out a content sigh. The warmth was more than welcomed, despite the weather. She set the cup back on the table and turned her attention on the brunette, now fidgeting with the corner of a pillow.

"Thank you," Nicole said, leaving a small kiss on her cheek.

Cassandra smiled and turned around, locking their lips in a kiss that at first mimicked her gentleness, but soon turned hungry when dainty hands made their way to the brunette's nape, pulling her closer. She shifted them both, pushing Nicole down on the pillows littering the couch, until she was laying on top of her, legs on each side of her waist. Her focus was on leaving a trail of nips and kisses down Nicole's neck when the redhead jumped and barely stifled a yelp at another screech from outside.

"Ugh what the fuck is today, scare me out of my mind day?"

"How are you scared of these but countless dead bodies don't phase you?" Cassandra laughed, sound muffled by her position with her mouth against Nicole's neck.

"I used to work on corpses, not on ugly gargoyles that could chew my face off!" She gestured wildly at the window and the few creatures visible outside.

"You what?"

"You...didn't know?" Nicole couldn't help a giggle at Cassandra's confused expression.

"How was I supposed to know?"

"I thought your mother told you already. Or your sisters," Nicole shrugged.

"They knew?!" And, after something seemed to dawn on her, "Oh I'm gonna kick both their asses."

Nicole couldn’t help letting out a small laugh, placing her hands on Cassandra's cheeks and, with a pout for dramatic effect, "Right now?"

As much as the sight was both funny and endearing, the warmth starting to pool at her core was making her beyond impatient.

The indignation in golden eyes was replaced by an all too familiar glint and black painted lips went back to their work on Nicole's neck. Sharp fangs pierced the skin there, just enough to draw a few drops of blood and a whine. After licking every last bit of it, Cassandra's lips moved to the collarbones and lower, hands slowly starting to undo the buttons of Nicole's pesky uniform that was in the way.

When both the button up and the skirt were discarded on the floor Nicole tangled her fingers through black hair and pulled Cassandra in for a kiss. Her free hand went to the back of the dress, pulling down the zipper and guiding it off of the brunette's shoulders. Once both of them were left only in undergarments, Nicole pulled back to look up at the brunette.

"If I knew I was supposed to dress up I would've asked the chambermaid if there's anything fancy in the uniform stash," she said, taking in the beautifully intricate lace of Cassandra's matching bra and underwear, complete with a giggle at her awful joking.

The brunette only raised an eyebrow. "Mhm I can take care of that. Not like you'll need these for long though." Her hands reached under Nicole's back to unclasp her bra and in mere moments that too was on top of the pile of clothes on the floor.

Then Cassandra bent down to crash their lips together, tongue slipping past Nicole's lips when a wandering hand elicited a gasp from her.

Cassandra was by no means a patient person. Quite the opposite actually. But teasingly dragging her nails across sensitive skin only to feel the girl under her squirm and whine when her hand just won't go where she needed it made waiting all the more sweet. Slender fingers started to toy with the edges of Nicole's underwear. After a groan against her lips and an impatient tug of hair, Cassandra finally gave in, slipping two fingers inside her. She felt Nicole arch into her, a broken moan escaping past her lips when she broke the kiss to let her head fall back into the cushions. Cassandra took that as an opportunity to kiss the length of her neck, occasionally stopping to suck or bite at a spot, enjoying every gasp and moan she drew out of the redhead.

With Cassandra's rough pace it didn't take long before Nicole was clenching her thighs around her hand. Cassandra kissed her, swallowing her moan as she came.

The small room in the attic, Cassandra's drawing room she would later find out, was the perfect secluded spot. They spent the rest of the evening enjoying each other. First evening of many.

[outlawsworld]

Trusting Strangers - Chapter 12

Arthur Morgan x Female reader

Summary: Reader and Arthur's relationship in now not so secret. She spends one on one time with Dutch and also some alone time with Arthur.

Warning: robbing, mentions of smut but nothing too bad!

Notes: sorry it's taken me so long with this chapter. I've taken a bit of time off over Christmas. Please let me know what you think....can't wait to write the next chapter after this ending 🤤

You can also read my work on my ao3 account Outlaws_world !!

Chapter 1

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You had been tossing and turning all night. Each time you were drifting off back to sleep your memories reminded you of the events of last night. As it started to get lighter outside you decided to go check on Dallas. Sleep wasn't coming easy and you decided to make yourself useful instead of just laying in your tent. The cut around Dallas' limb had started to scab over and there was no sign of infection. You reapplied some of the herbs that Charles had given you and fed the horses. It must have been early as everyone was still fast asleep in camp and the morning birds had only just started chirping in the trees. You made yourself a coffee and stood at the end of the dock looking out over the lake. The sun was rising over the hills which filled the sky with a burnt orange. You took in a deep breath which filled your lungs with the freshness of the air before taking a sip from your coffee. There were a couple of birds floating on the water and you watched as they sat there, still and silent. You were so lost in focusing on the stillness of the morning that you didn't hear the footsteps behind you.

''Mornin' Miss (Y/L/N)'' you spun round quickly to see Dutch had walked up behind you. He was smoking on a cigar and smiling at you.

''Mornin' Dutch'' you spoke hesitantly after you caught your breath.

''Sorry dear, I didn't mean to frighten you'' he smirked. Even though it was first thing in the morning, Dutch didn't have a hair out of place and he dressed so smartly. You must have looked scruffy in comparison as you had the same clothes on from yesterday and hadn't combed your hair yet. He came to stand next to you as you both looked over the water. ''You alright after last night?'' he questioned, not taking his eyes away from the view.

''Yeah'' you paused. ''I didn't mean for it to escalate the way it did'' you tried to defend yourself. Dutch sighed as he looked at you.

''It ain't your fault Miss (Y/L/N)'' his voice was hushed as the camp was starting to stir behind you. ''Arthur has taken quite a shine to you. I realise you two seem to be gettin' on rather well'' he scanned your face waiting for your reaction. You continued to look out over the lake hoping that he would avert his gaze. ''I hope this ain't gonna be a problem''. You look at him slightly taken aback by what he had just said.

''I don't know what you mean?'' you question, looking directly into his gaze now.

''You have settled in well here (Y/N). You have also pulled your weight and done well on jobs'' he paused taking a drag from his cigar and blowing it out over the lake. ''I want to see this for myself. What are you doing today?’’ he questioned ignoring your confusion.

‘’I was going to see about those horses with John this mornin’.’’ You scanned the camp trying to find him.

‘’That can wait’’ he protested. ‘’ Ride with me to Rhodes. I’ll let you get on with your morning chores and then come find me’’ he eyed you up and down before adding ‘’ I’ll inform John of the change of plan, the horses can wait for tomorrow’’.

''Of course Dutch'' you said shyly. He patted you on the shoulder before walking back into camp and leaving you standing on the dock by yourself.

You thought about Dutch's words as you sipped on the rest of your coffee. Gaining Dutch's trust was a hard task when you first joined the gang and the last thing you wanted was to jeopardise that. You hoped that your time spent with him would allow you to finally prove your full worth to him. ‘I hope this ain’t gonna be a problem’, what did he mean by that? There was a slight nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach as you thought he might not approve of your relationship with Arthur. Was that what this trip to Rhodes was going to be about? 

You tried to ignore the feeling as you made your way back into camp. Most people had started to stir and were getting on with their chores. Although you knew Dutch would let John know about the change of plan, you wanted to tell John yourself and to clear the air from last night. When you couldn’t find him anywhere around camp you made your way over to the dirty dishes and began cleaning. You had only just gotten settled into your work when Tilly and Karen both decided to settle down next to you. As you glanced up, you saw the huge grins plastered across their faces and automatically rolled your eyes.

''Awwh come on now, don't be like that'' Karen giggled. You looked into the wash bucked and concentrated on the dish in your hand. Trying to block out the eager girls stares.

''You can't hide from us in a pile of dirty dishes, ya know'' Tilly smirked at you. You looked up and sighed. She was right, no matter what you did, you couldn't avoid them forever. ''You gonna tell us then?''.

''Tell you what?'' you smirked.

''Don't play dumb. Tell us about what happened last night'' Karen scoffed. She sat next to you with a ripped shirt in hand as she tried to sew the seam back together.

''With Micah?'' you questioned.

''No you idiot. With Arthur'' Karen tutted. ''He was clearly protective over ya, never seen him so riled up. Micah must have struck a nerve talkin' bout you like that'' she giggled as she spoke. You knew that being cooped up in the camp all day can be boring, so the girls lived for any gossip or drama. You shook your head and sighed looking over to see Arthur was sat on his cot writing something in his journal. He looked so fixated on what he was jotting down, you couldn’t help but wish he was by your side right now to answer the questions that were being thrown at you.

''Would you just leave the poor girl alone'' Sadie interrupted, she was standing over the three of you with her hands on her hips.

''We were only asking'' Tilly spoke shyly.

''Yeah, well I'm tellin'. Can't you see she has enough to do without you two at her'' she gestured for the two girls to move which they did with a grunt and a couple wise remarks. Sadie came to sit beside you and grabbed a dish to clean. ''Told you they would find out'' she giggled. You couldn't help but smirk at her comment but you stayed silent. The two of you continued to wash the dishes. Your eyes scanned the camp to try find John but instead landed on Arthur walking towards you.

''Mornin' Ladies'' he tipped his hat to the both of you.

''Arthur'' Sadie greeted him as she carried on scrubbing one of the dishes.

‘’(Y/N), can I have a word?’’ his voice was hushed as if to try and not draw too much attention to us. You glanced at Sadie who gave you an approving nod before you dried your hands on your trousers and stood up to follow Arthur. The giggling coming from the other girls behind you were more then obvious, but you ignored them. You followed Arthur back towards the dock where you had been standing not too long ago.

‘’You alright?’’ Arthur asked as you reached the dock. He placed a hand softly on your lower arm, almost taking your hand whilst looking straight into your eyes. His touch suddenly warmed your whole body and your cheeks flushed red. You were slightly embarrassed to how easily this man could change your whole mood with a simple touch. His bright blue eyes were unavoidable, you could see the corner of his mouth was upturned as he looked at you which only made your heart race faster.

‘’I am now’’ you smiled up at him. He smiled sweetly back at you as he intertwined his fingers in yours. Quickly, you glanced back towards the camp to see if anyone was watching. Before you could let go of his hand and pull away, Arthur’s free hand reached your cheek to move your face back to focus on him.

‘’Cat’s outta the bag (Y/N)’’ he smirked at your panicked reaction. ‘’I guess I’m to blame for that’’ his hand cupped your cheek still as he looked from your eyes to your lips. He was right, everyone in camp knew by now that something was going on. There was no point in hiding it. ‘’I just wanted to make sure that you were alright with it all?’’ he lowered his voice slightly as you dropped your eyes to look down at the floor.

You wanted to say how much you hated that people were already trying to know all your business, you hated that the attention was focused on the two of you because you were the biggest news in camp. Being on your own for so long you had gotten used to no one paying you any attention and you liked it that way, you never had to explain yourself to anyone. The words couldn’t form in your mouth and as you looked back up to meet Arthur’s eyes all of your worries seemed to fade away. If the whole camp knowing meant that the both of you could stop sneaking around and be together then you didn’t seem to care. All that mattered to you was Arthur.

‘’I’m alright. Though you owe me’’ you smirked at him. ‘’You don’t have to deal with the girls wanting to know every detail’’. Arthur laughed shyly as he pulled you closer to him. He leaned down and kissed you softly. It didn’t feel like your previous kisses, you were very aware that anyone could be watching but it felt more meaningful somehow. You didn’t have to hide your affection for one another. You felt a warm feeling at the fact that Arthur was happy for the camp to know about his feeling towards you.

‘’How about I take you outta camp for the night?’’ Arthur smiled leaning his forehead against yours.

‘’Deal’’ you smiled before placing a soft kiss on his cheek. The two of you slowly made your way back into camp before Mrs Grimshaw came over to tell you both to stop slacking. As you walked into the heart of camp you noticed everyone’s attention was on the both of you and you could feel a hot flush run through your body.

‘’I better finish my chores’’ you gestured back towards Sadie who was still busy washing dishes. Arthur smiled before leaning down and kissing your cheek in front of the whole camp. The gesture produced a gasp and whispers that could be heard from the girls who were watching the both of you. You bit your lip and your cheeks flushed once more before heading back towards Sadie. You sat down next to her and continued with your work, you couldn’t help the smile that graced your face.

‘’I hope you know that I can’t save you from the oncomin’ questions now’’ Sadie giggled. It was as if the other girls had heard Sadie’s comment because almost instantly they had all gathered round you.

‘’When did it happen?’’

‘’Is he a good kisser?’’

‘’Is he romantic?’’

Their questions came thick and fast and you did your best at answering as Sadie sat smirking at you. You must have looked like a rabbit when face to face with a cougar as the questions piled in. Once you washed the last dish you stood up and held your hands up in surrender.

‘’Alright, alright. Enough questions for one day’’ the girls all sighed with the loss of excitement. ‘’I’ll see y'all later’’ you took no time in waiting for their response as you strode across camp to find Dutch. As you crossed camp you scanned it to see if John had made an appearance. He was still nowhere to be seen so you shrugged it off. Dutch was sat in his tent reading one of his novels when you approached him.

‘’Ahh (Y/N)’’ he closed the book as he saw you stood in the opening of his tent. ‘’You ready to go?’’.

‘’Yeah’’ you nodded as he put his book down on his cot and gestured for you to lead the way to the horses. Dallas favouring his leg still so you took one of the spare horses for the day. You both mounted up and you followed closely behind Dutch as he led the way out of camp and onto the main road to town. The both of you rode in silence which only made you more nervous. Dutch had always been kind to you and impressed with your work but you had never had to prove yourself to him before or spent any time with him alone. Luckily Rhodes wasn’t too far from camp and you both hitched your horses outside of the saloon before making your way inside. Dutch ordered you both a beer and you took a seat at a free table in the corner of the room. The saloon was quiet as it was only midday but there was a piano player which filled the empty atmosphere.

‘’So, I want to see first hand what you can do Miss’’ Dutch broke the silence as you took a sip from your beer. ‘’I’ve heard a lot of great things but never seen it for myself’’ he smirked at you before joining you in a drink. You didn’t exactly know what Dutch was expecting. All the jobs that you have done for the gang had been planned by someone else and you just did as you were told.

‘’What’s the plan?’’ you asked, slightly confused.

‘’No plan’’ Dutch raised his eyebrows. ‘’Just do what you do best’’ he leant back in his chair with his arms folded over his chest, expecting to watch a show. You took a deep breath and glanced around the bar trying to find a target. Rhodes wasn’t too far away from the city of Saint Denis which meant many rich folk passed through regularly. You spotted a couple of men sat at the bar, both well dressed and merrily drinking. They looked like they were celebrating something as they toasted to one another’s success. You quickly gulped the rest of your drink before giving Dutch a nod in their direction. Dutch glanced over at the two men and the corner of his mouth tugged upwards in a mischievous smile before he nodded at you. You straightened out your clothing and fixed your hair before making your way over to the bar to stand next to the two men.

You gestured for the bartender before ordering another beer. Once, you had been served your drink you stood, leaning on the bar in a way that would attract a man’s eye to the curve of your bum. One of the men took the bait straight away and turned his attention to you as you began to drink your beer.

‘’What is a beautiful woman such as yourself doing in a town like this?’’ he leaned towards you. His breath stank of alcohol and his eyes were slightly glazed over indicating he was a lot more drunk then you had first thought.

‘’Just passin’ through’’ you smiled sweetly placing a hand on his forearm. ‘’How about yourself?’’. Before you knew it, you were standing in between the two men drinking your beer and creating convocation. They both had closed some sort of business deal that you paid no interest too and were celebrating. You hummed along whilst congratulating them. They were both quite young, handsome men so you acted as though you were falling for their charms. After your second beer that they had bought you, you decided to take your leave and go back to Dutch. Both the men were slightly disappointed that you were leaving however, they let you go without any complaints.

‘’I think it’s best we leave now’’ you smiled at Dutch who sat watching you with a confused expression. He didn’t question you and followed you out of the saloon and to your horses.

‘’(Y/N), I think you missed the point of this trip’’ he finally turned to you before you mounted your horse. You grinned at him, before he could say another word you produced 2 watches, $20, a golden ring, a packet of cigarettes and what seemed to be an engagement ring from your pockets. You placed all the items in Dutch’s hand.

‘’Pretty sure we can sell this stuff at the general store. Plus, I found out that they have a bunch of deeds back at their house which isn’t too far from here. Turns out they will both be out of town on business next week. Might be worth a look’’ you smirked feeling pretty pleased with yourself.

‘’Well I must say, I am impressed’’ Dutch nodded at you, you couldn't help but hear the slight shock in his voice. This only made you more smug about doing a good job. ‘’Let’s go see what we can get for these’’ Dutch chuckled as he stuffed the items into his pockets. The both of you mounted up and began to head to the main street. As you were riding down the street you passed by Hosea and Arthur. They were on their way to the saloon with a wagon full of moonshine. Hosea had dressed Arthur up in a hat and a pipe sticking out of his mouth and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. They both tipped their hats to you as you passed one another but no words were exchanged. Arthur rolled his eyes as he saw the amusement on both yours and Dutch's faces.

"He's never been one for playing dress up" Dutch remarked. "No doubt we will get an earful later" he bellowed whilst laughing.

Dutch and yourself entered the general store and sold the items for $40 altogether. He decided to buy you a broach of a horse’s head cast in bronze that you had taken a shine too. You thanked him on the way out before pinning the broach to your shirt. The two of you began your journey back to camp ignoring the noises coming from the saloon. Clearly whatever Hosea and Arthur was up to was working in their favour.

‘’Good work today Miss (Y/L/N)’’ he smiled at you as you rode side by side. ‘’I’m glad we found you’’. This made you light up. You knew Dutch was hard to please and to hear him say these things only made you feel more at home in the gang. Although, you couldn't help but think of your convocation that you had by the dock that morning. You hadn't spoken about your relationship with Arthur this whole trip, which you originally though that's what this was about.

‘’Thanks Dutch’’ you smiled at him. ‘’Can I ask you a question?’’ he nodded at you to continue. You cleared your throat and gathered up the courage before speaking up. ‘’Earlier, you said that you hope that me and Arthur don’t become a problem, what did you mean?’’ you asked so shyly that you thought he might not have even been able to hear you. You heard him take a deep breath in as you looked at the road in front of you, avoiding his gaze. The silence was deafening, the only sound was your heart racing as Dutch thought about your question.

‘’I meant no offence’’ he cleared his throat before carrying on. ‘’Things like relationships can be a hard thing with the way we live. They can get in the way and distract us from our responsibilities. As long as you know the gang comes above anything else, it shouldn’t be a problem. Keep up the hard work’’ Dutch scanned your face for your reaction. You looked up to catch his gaze before nodding. "And Miss (Y/L/N), I won't tolerate any more fighting in camp" he warned looking straight into you.

‘’I understand. It won’t get in the way’’ you promised Dutch. Although you knew he meant well you couldn’t help but feel he thought you might take Arthur away from his work or even the gang. You had no intension of doing so as you knew how much the gang meant to him, and how much it was starting to mean to you as well. It was like a family, one that you have been needing for so long.

Once you were back in camp Dutch left you to tend to the horses. You brushed the borrowed horse and the Count before feeding them some carrots as a treat. It wasn’t long before the sun began to set on another day and you helped yourself to some of Pearson’s stew. Lenny came to keep you company and sat on the log next to you by the fire. It was nice to talk to someone who wasn't interested enough to ask about your and Arthur's relationship. Lenny was the youngest in the gang but he talked as though he was the oldest. He was incredibly smart and always good company.

‘’You seen John today?’’ you asked as you scanned the camp still unable to locate John.

‘’Yeah, he has been on guard most of the day, didn’t want anyone to relieve him of his post’’ Lenny shrugged. You turned your nose up at the thought of John wanting to be on guard all day. He hated that job, he always complained that it was boring. Maybe something had happened between him and Abigail which made him want to be by himself for a while. You were about to go and check on him when you saw Arthur ride back into camp. He dismounted Siego and marched over to speak to Dutch and Micah. You and Lenny both tried to overhear their conversation without any luck. Whatever they were taking about, you could tell Arthur wasn't too pleased about it. You turned your attention back to the remainders of your stew and scraped the bowl clean.

‘’Ma’am’’ Arthur drew your attention from your bowl. He held his hand out for you to take which you did gladly. He pulled you onto your feet before taking your bowl from you and placing it in the wash tub. ‘’You ready to go?’’ he questioned, his tone was slightly irritated still by his convocation with Dutch. You had completely forgotten about going out of camp with Arthur tonight but you nodded to not irritate him further. You said your goodbyes to Lenny before grabbing a couple of spare clothes from your tent and meeting Arthur by the horses.

You rode together back into Rhodes. Arthur remained quiet for the ride, you could tell something had angered him but you didn’t want to pry just yet. Instead you decided to let him calm down. Arthur led you up to the Rhodes hotel, you glanced at him slightly shocked. You had expected to go back to the open field that you had slept the other night. You followed sheepishly behind him, trying to remember the last time you had slept in a real bed. Arthur paid for a room and for a bath each before grabbing the key and guiding you to the room.

The room was spacious, with a double bed in the middle of the back wall and a wardrobe to the side. There was a draw at each bedside with a lantern placed on each one. As it was already dark outside so the room was slightly dim lit but that didn't faze you. You gingerly walked around the room and placed your things to one side. As you passed each draw, you automatically searched through them to see if there were any leftover belongings.

‘’We ain’t robbin’ the place’’ Arthur smirked as he watched you open and close all the empty draws.

‘’I know’’ you giggled slightly embarrassed. ‘’I don’t remember the last time I stayed inside that’s all’’ you felt the softness of the bed and took a deep breath in.

‘’Well we needed to get away from camp. Thought this would be better then a cold night outside" he watched you with a smile.

"You alright?" you finally asked. "Ya seem irritated".

"Nahh it's just Micah. Thinks it's a good idea to rob both the Grey's and the Braithwight's" he shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't think it's the best idea but Dutch seems to take his side" he placed his things in the same pile as yours before walking over to you and placing both his hands on your waist. You place your arms around his neck and pull him close to you for a full enbrace.

"Doesn't seem smart but I'm sure Dutch knows what he's doin'." You tried to reassure him. The truth was you thought it was dumb too. It was a small town and people talk, even with a family feud they would still know it was us that robbed from them. You let go of him just enough so that you could see his face. His jaw was tense and his eyes were looking over your shoulder, deep in thought. You place your hand on his cheek to bring his eyes round to focus back on you, just like he had done earlier. His jaw relaxed as his eyes met yours. You kissed him gently, you could feel his whole body relax when your lips met. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, as if not wanting to ever let you go. You broke the kiss and smiled up at him.

"I'm sorry, let's not talk about the gang tonight" he smirked. ‘’Why don’t ya go get a bath, I’ll get mine after’’. You nodded at him before grabbing some clothes and walking out of your room and down the hall to the bath.

You submerged yourself in the warm water hesitantly. The water felt lovely against your skin, better then washing yourself in the cold lake. You took your time in scrubbing your body head to toe, using the soap provided. It smelt of lavender and filled the room with it’s relaxing scent. Once you had finished you sat in the bath for a couple moments, embracing the last of the warm water before climbing out and drying yourself. You pulled on the clean clothes you had packed before tip toeing your way back to the room. When you walked back in you were surprised to find Arthur was not there. He must have gone to the second bathroom that you had noticed. You perched on the edge of the bed, feeling it dip from your weight. It was so soft and you couldn't wait to have a comfy night sleep. You sat there for a while before deciding to get ready for bed, it was getting late and you were begining to tire. As you rummaged through your things you realised you had forgotten your nightwear. You rolled your eyes and breathed out an irritated sigh at your forgetfulness. Instead you decided to slip on Arthur's shirt that he had given you weeks ago on your hunting trip and remove your trousers. Once, to were comfortable you climbed onto the bed laying down with your head placed on the plump pillow.

There was a knock at the door before Arthur crept back inside the room. He closed the door behind himself before finally letting his eyes find you. His mouth dropped slightly before he took a large gulp finding you in this slight state of undress. The shirt you had borrowed fell down to the middle of your thighs but both your legs were on show to him. You sat up slightly leaning on both elbows and you let yourself look over him. He was standing at the door with just his jeans on, his suspenders left to hang by his legs. You couldn’t help but gaze over him, his upper body was toned with hair gracing his chest leading a path down his stomach into his jeans. The both of you were silent as you allowed yourself to explore with your eyes. Your heart was racing in your chest and a new warm feeling began aching between your legs. You had both seen each other like this when you spent the night away from camp hunting but at that point you avoided looking over each other. This time you both welcomed each other to look. You could feel your heart begining to race as you felt his eyes wonder down your body.

‘’I wondered where my shirt had gotten too’’ Arthur said in a low tone as he slowly made his way over to you. His voice seemed to vibrate through you, making the ache between your legs worsen. This feeling was foreign to you and you began to think something was wrong with you.

‘’I may have forgotten to give it back’’ you admitted shyly, watching every step he made towards you. His shoulders were broad leading to his muscled arms that you longed to warp around you. You couldn't hide the slight shaking in your breath as he got closer. Arthur slowly sat down on the bed beside you and licked his lips. Your chest felt like it was going to burst open as he rested a hand on the bare skin of your leg, just below your knee. The sensation of just his touch sent shivers throught your body. The heat between your legs was intensifying with every passing moment and a knot in the bottom of your stomach started to grow. You slowly looked over his body and back up to meet his striking blue eyes. He didn't shy his gaze away once you met his. There was a look on his face you had never seen before. It was hungry but weary at the same time. You suddenly had a growing awareness of your need for him. You needed him to kiss you. You needed him to touch you and you needed him to relieve this unfamiliar burning feeling between your legs.

--

Chapter 13

@kashasenpai

[mist-sly]

Sing of the moon

Chapter One: Coffee talks

This is a Wolfstar MMA AU that's on AO3 that I have been writing. However I'm gonna start posting it on here too because its easier for me to kept track of what I wrote. Any ways Hope you enjoy!

It was the biggest fight of the year. The middle-weight title on the line. Millions of people watching around the world. The champ, Sirius Black facing one of his biggest rivals, Severus Snape. It was a long overdue fight, the two constantly targeting each other on social media and making comments to the press.

The hype had been real. Every press conference was another layer of added tension and anticipation to the fight. No one wanted to miss it. Sirius was athletic and had every technique known to fighting in his arsenal. A predictable fight many had said. Others argued that Snape’s slippery, submission style could be enough to beat the champ.

Either way, it had drawn the attention of everyone. Even those who shied away from the bright lights of UFC. It lured those who lived in the shadows of the fighting scene.

A large flat screen TV had been set up in the old underground stadium. A crowd of fighters all gathered round to watch, each one sitting on some old create or broken chair. “Its not looking good for him wolfy,” said a teenager with dyed grey hair. He was sitting cross legged on the floor. The TV screen reflecting of his blue eyes. “Ill say. Every punch Black is receiving is drawing blood,” a big, bulky red-haired man said. He scratched at his beard and looked over to his left staring at the young man who was sitting back on the old, patchy red couch. The young man’s eyes darted around the screen, zoning in to one thing specifically as Snape aimed a body shot. “You see something, don’t you wolfy.” The other fighters dragged their eyes away from the screen to look at the young man.

Remus Lupin sat forwards, his elbows resting on his thighs, his hands covering his mouth and nose as he stared at the TV. Remus’s golden amber eyes narrowed right as Snape connect a light jab to Sirius face. He watched as a small cut formed on the champ’s cheek, drawing blood. He drew his hands away from his face showing his frown.

“There’s always something with an opponent like Snape,” he said in a low voice. The camera angle changed on the screen. A close up of Sirius’s face, enlarged for everyone to see. One eye was swollen shut, the other turning a mix of blue and purple. You could not see where cuts began, and trails of blood ended.

This should not have been the outcome. A total of three rounds the fight went on for. Thirteen minutes and a gory scene that would make any viewer feel sick. Three minutes into the third round and it was over. The champ got hit and did not get back up. The group of fighters where quiet. This should not have been the outcome.

However, everything happens for reason.

~

It had been exactly thirty-seven days since he lost. Thirty-seven days of thinking how? How did he lose that fight? Sirius had gone through it a thousand and one times in his head. He was quicker than Snape. Had a harder punch than Snape and was far more intelligent when it came to thinking on his feet?

Sirius shook his head to rid him off the thoughts. He was on his daily run to clear his head, not bring back more memory’s and questions. He stopped, his breaths heavy, panting as he ran a hand through his incredibly dark locks of hair. “Shit,” he muttered as he looked around. The area was unfamiliar to him. Small shops and old building surrounding the street he had just came down. Clearly it was in the more run-down part of Gryffindor. Sirius didn’t even know there was a run-down part of Gryffindor.

He spotted a small coffee shop further on down the street. A few people where sitting outside it but other than that, the street was relatively quiet.

A bell rang over head as he entered. The smell of coffee and baked goods immediately hitting him like a bus. It was warm inside, a delightful change from the nippy autumn air outside. The walls were painted a vibrant orange, the furniture looking old giving the whole coffee shop a warm and vintage feel.

“Hi, what can I get you?” asked a girl behind the counter. She had long, flowing red hair and beautiful green eyes. A sweet and pleasant smile on her face. “Sorry, I’m a bit lost. Could you tell me how to get to the upper side oh and a coffee, black?” he asked the girl.

The girl snorted turning away from him. “An up sider? How did you end up down here?” the girl asked as she started to brew a fresh pot of coffee. “Went for a run, got lost in my head.” Sirius give the girl a smirk as she looked over at him. Her eyes travelled up and down his body, taking in his appearance.

“Guess that explains why your sweaty. What about the bruises?” she asked staring at the faint mix of yellow and brown that covered half his face. Sirius smirk dropped. The girl knew she struct a nerve but before she could apologise, the bell above the door went again.

“Hey Lils. Can I get the regular for the trio and a peppermint tea for me?” Said a young man who walked towards Sirius. Tall, Sirius first thought upon seeing him. Skinny too. He watched as the young man walked towards him. His hair was curly, a caramel brown colour that Sirius doesn’t think he has ever seen before. He wore an old orange jumper that had seen better days and a pair of grey sweats that were rolled up at his ankles. Sirius looked at the bottom on his sweats surprised, surly no one that tall would need to roll up their cloths.

The young man nodded at Sirius before standing beside him at the counter. “Three sugars wolfy?” the girl, ‘Lils’, asked. The young man nodded.

It was quiet after that. The sound of coffee machines running and ‘Lils’ humming echoing around the small coffee shop.

“Here you go Up sider. One Back coffee to go.” The girl slid the coffee over to Sirius before scribbling something down on a piece of paper. “Up sider?” The man asked suddenly. Sirius looked over at him. His amber eyes sparling with curiously as he looked at Sirius.

It was now that Sirius got a good look at the young man. He had handsome features, that was for sure. He had a nice jawline, not to strong and not to soft. Freckles littered his face likes stars in the night sky. He has long eyelashes that seemed to make his amber eyes brighter.

He would have looked soft, too soft, if it weren’t for the scars on his face. He had one across the bridge of his nose and another one on his left cheek going down to his jawline. The young man had a fresh cut above his right eye that was bruised.

However, as Sirius looked at the man, the man also looked at Sirius. That was not good in Sirius’s head. The last thing he needed, was for the media to know where he is.

“You shouldn’t have lost your fight,” the young man said bluntly as Lils set the piece of paper down with directions in front of Sirius. The statement had taken Sirius by surprise. So, the guy knew him, that was great but to say something like that irritated Sirius. He didn’t see Mr tall and skinny facing a world class fighter like Snape.

“Excuse me. I’d like to see yo-“Sirius started only to be cut off by the young man saying, “Snape’s gloves were loaded.” Sirius blinked at the man, “tampered with,” he added in case Sirius didn’t understand.

Sirius couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Who the hell was this guy? Some losers who clearly knows nothing. Sirius took a deep breath and looked at the man. “Look. I’m not sure how much you know after fighting but official gloves have to be worn, not to mention that the gloves got checked and nothing was off with either one.”

The man however kept looking at Sirius with those amber eyes. “That wouldn’t necessarily matter. There’s always ways around the system.” He shrugged. Sirius could feel the laughter starting to bubble in him stomach again. “Ok then. Enlighten me, how were the gloves tampered with?” The man narrowed his eyes, a darker look falling over his once soft face. “A layer of padding was taken out of the gloves. That would have been obvious if they had not replaced it with something else. That other layer would have had to been roughly the same weight as the padding. My guess is that they used soft cast.” Sirius snorted.

Sirius knew what soft cast was. What fighter didn’t? It was an old scandal back in the day with a boxer. It had long since been forgotten though. The man continued, however. “It would make the hits harder on your face not to mention as the soft cast scratched the leather of the glove it would wear the material down.” He raised an eyebrow at Sirius to see if he was keeping up.

Sirius nodded and gestured for the man to continue, taking a sip of his coffee. Sighing the man rubbed his eyes, as if he were trying to teach a child how to read a simple word that they couldn’t quite grasp. “The soft cast would scratch against your skin and the impact of each punch would increase as the match went on because the cast would harden over time. Didn’t you notice when you were fighting, how the first hit was not hard but still drew blood? How as the fight went on Snape put less effort into each hit but was still able to increase the impact every time?” Sirius stopped drinking. His coffee cup frozen at his smooth lips. He blinked at the man as he thought back to the fight. When Snape landed his first punch, he was off balance. The punch shouldn’t have had enough force to bruise his cheek so badly, the way it did.

The more Sirius thought about it, the more he realized how much of what the tall, skinny man was saying, was true.

He shook his head and narrowed his eyes on the man just as ‘Lils’ brought over four take away drinks in coffee cups. “Here you go wolfy! One hot chocolate with cream for Seb, a black coffee with two sugars for Harley, warmed milk with coco powder on top for Cain and your peppermint tea, three sugars,” ‘Lils’ said happily with a bright smile. The man, ‘wolfy’, nodded his thanks and took the four drinks.

“Wait! How did you know about the gloves?” Sirius asked before ‘wolfy’ could leave. “I watched your fight. Noticed what was happening and put it together with an old street fighting trick.” He shrugged and opened the door with his back.

“A little too good to be true, don’t you think?” Sirius said with a laugh, but the young man didn’t laugh back. He shrugged and turned his back to Sirius. “If you don’t believe me then check for yourself.”

Sirius watched as the door closed behind the man. He stayed in the coffee shop, not taking his silver eyes away from the door. The conversation replaying in his head like a broken record. He turned back around to ‘Lils’ who was wiping the countertop. “Do you have a phone I could borrow,” he said in a rush. Like somehow, he would forget everything the man just told him.

The girl smiled at him and nodded. She took out her iPhone from the pocket of her green apron and handed it to Sirius. He wasted no time in dialing a number. Listening as it rang in his ear.

“Hello. Yeah, James it’s me. I need you and your dad to check something out for me……”

P.s this is my first proper time writing so I'm not the best. 

[iwrestlenow]

Many More To Die, Chapter 12

TITLE: Many More To Die (Chapter 12)

FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)

SUMMARY: While the assassin makes another attempt on Roman's life, the necromancers find help from an unexpected source--and an all too brief reunion between Logan and Roman has some disturbing results.

SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman), Moceit (Patton/Janus) and Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)

WARNINGS: None really, not this time.

Told you this one would come faster. XD It's bigger than most, because the next one is gonna be a whopper--and also, the next installment will be the last! But fear not: I'm already planning a sequel.

...and tbh, I can't stop writing these adorable jerks so you'll get lots more stories outta me. :P

NOTES: This is based on the gorgeous piece of art by @gretacticdraws that can be found here. I ended up writing a ficlet for it, and then my brain got swallowed up. Breathe at me wrong, and I’ll write more…hell, who am I kidding? I’ll write more anyway because this? Is self indulgent drivel. XD

Also located at AO3 over here.

1022, A.A.

“Pass the glue?”

Logan blinked, slowly looking up from his jacket to gradually focus on Roman's face. Watching him rise from something that had swallowed his whole attention was hopelessly adorable—a thing he could never tell Logan to his face, but could never hide the smile that crept across his face when he watched Logan surface like a pearl diver.

He saw the moment Logan's face shifted, the moment he finally returned to reality. Scanning the craft supplies scattered on the riverbank around them, he located the glue pot and passed it to Roman with a curious frown.

“What are you gluing?” he asked.

Roman held up the white mask he'd selected to go with his costume for the final night of the Festival that Logan had invited him to.

“Feathers! I want to be one of those things you showed me in the graveyard—the creatures etched on the one tombstone?”

“Angels.” Logan reminded him. “You know their wings go on their back, not their face.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “I know that, Starlight. I can't exactly get a pair of wings for my costume on such short notice, though, so I...Logan?”

Roman set his mask down, scooting closer to the other boy with a cold lick of concern in his belly. Logan was staring at him with an intensity that made him want to squirm, and his face had gone completely ashen.

“What's wrong?” Roman asked, reaching for his hand. “Logan, are you all right?”

Logan blinked, drawing a trembling breath before briskly shaking his head as if to clear it.

“I—yes, I am fine. I just...” He trailed off, and that look was on Roman again.

“Why did you call me Starlight?”

Roman couldn't stop himself from frowning, confused. Gesturing to the jacket in Logan's lap, he shrugged.

“The beads you're sewing onto it—it looks like the night sky. It's—it's just a nickname, like Specs. I won't use it anymore if it bothers you.”

“No,” Logan insisted, “it is perfectly acceptable, it's just...it surprised me, that's all. Starlight is actually the name I use for the Festival. As I told you, we forsake our identities at the celebration, so we all use different names. Mine is—is Starlight.”

Roman watched Logan blink, and would have accused Logan of lying except that Logan never lied. He took things too literally, he was just...not the kind of person who did it. Not with Roman, at least. So if he said he was fine...

So why did he look like his whole world had been shaken?

“...Muse.” Roman spoke before he could think about it.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Muse.” he repeated, feeling confident about the decision. “That'll be my name for the evening. Muse.”

Logan just stared at him for a long moment before huffing, shaking his head as he scooted across the grass until he was leaning against Roman's side, shoulder pressed to Roman's arm.

“You're not required to do it. You're not part of the tribe.” Logan pointed out.

“It's your tribe, though—and I don't want to be disrespectful.” Roman insisted, reaching for the bag of feathers Logan had brought for their costume work. “Besides, I...I like it. I understand it. It's all to make the dead feel less alone, isn't it? I want to help.”

Roman focused very hard on picking the feathers he wanted to glue to his mask...and tried not to pay attention to the way Logan's head tipped to rest against his shoulder and just stayed that way for a very long time.

**********

1033, A.A.

“So that's how you did it—this is a problem.”

Roman blinked, shaking his head. He hadn't lost consciousness, he was certain of it.

...well, relatively certain.

Glancing around, Roman realized he was in his father's bedchamber, held fast by a palace guard on either side. He tried to tug free, but they held him fast, staring straight ahead with glassy, unfocused eyes and blank expressions.

“Don't bother—I've been rotating soldiers through dungeon detail for years. Nearly all of them are mine now.”

Roman's chest seized with cold, cloying horror and disbelief. He could feel warmth in the hands that held him, see their chests rising and falling with breath...

He turned to the man standing before him—salt and pepper hair and overly tanned features, with piercing blue eyes Roman was starting to realize he should have known on sight.

Colonel Mori—if only he'd remembered before this moment...

“The same curse you used on my father, I take it?” he asked, proud of how level his voice came out, clear and firm.

“Something like that.” Mori replied, idly tossing a familiar ring into the air, catching it, and repeating the action with casual thoughtlessness. “It's always been a specialty of mine—generational curses. You only have to curse a single man, and an entire bloodline or brotherhood will fall...would, at least,

if not for you and that idiot progeny of mine.”

Roman wasn't aware that he'd lunged until he had one guard's arm around his throat to hold him back. He'd actually slipped free, and found it hard to breathe until he consciously stopped trying to wrestle free of his captors.

“Logan is not an idiot.” he snarled. “He's stronger than all of us—he's the best man I have ever known.”

And just like that, he was aware of all the memories that infernal talisman had been holding back—the stolen moments, the beauty of learning new things about Logan's people...the purity of that young love that had been stolen from him.

He thought of Logan now, that lean and handsome face hardened by ten years of imprisonment...and how it opened up to him the night before, how Logan tucked against him in his sleep and clung to every touch like it would be taken away from him, just as he had when they first met...

Mori's hands were suddenly on him, gripping his chin and yanking his hair until Roman was staring directly into his eyes.

“Logan Crofter is a good man—and that is his downfall.” Mori spat as his eyes began to glow with an unholy orange light. “Good men have too many rules and too many weaknesses.”

Roman tried to shake his head, but couldn't fend off the impossible grip of the necromancer before him, the light of his gaze causing a slow, dull throb through his skull.

“Decent men have rules to keep them decent. Evil men like you have rules so they can revel in breaking them.” Roman replied flatly. “Good men don't need rules. They simply choose and act.”

The pain in his head grew, forcing Roman to close his eyes—but the light was still there, behind his lids and in his brain, turning the dull throb into a burn.

“So I'm looking forward, Colonel, to watching you face a good man with no rules—and nothing to lose.”

Mori's laughter was grating in his ears as Roman slowly began to lose the ability to think coherently.

“He has one thing, Your Highness...he has you. And I'm going to make sure he comes to find you so I can get what I want: the soul of another Lazari.”

There was some shuffling, a voice—and Roman's blood ran cold as he hung helpless in the grip of a guard and lost his hold on reality.

“Remy Somnum! Bring me Lord Janus. It's high time I added his life to my collection.”

“Yes, Master.”

********** 1023, A.A.

“You're certain this is where it is?”

Roman nodded as he finally opened the padlock on the door of the long abandoned storeroom, deeep in the bowels of the palace dungeons. “The locator spell Remus gave me works. He knows more about magic than half the court mages, even if he can't use it.”

“Picking locks as well.” Logan observed with a raised eyebrow.

Glancing over his shoulder at Logan, Roman just grinned at his expression.

“Remus didn't teach me that.” he declared, pushing the door open and ushering Logan in ahead of him. “If I'm going to be king one day, I shan't rely on anyone else to rescue me—what if I have to break free of some prison or shackles?”

Logan stepped into the room ahead of him, but immediately stopped and turned to face him, looking at Roman with blue eyes that glittered with something Roman couldn't name, something that made it hard to breathe.

It happened so fast he almost couldn't process it—Logan's hands in his tunic, the sudden feel of warmth crowding his front...

The soft, firm, smacking press of a kiss to his mouth that made his heart, and the rest of the world, stop.

For long moments, they just stared at each other, Logan seemingly reeling as much as Logan was.

“I...I am—I'm—apologies.” Logan stammered, trying to busy himself with straightening his tie instead of holding onto Roman's tunic. “I did not mean...that is to say—I just—your intellectual moments, they just—you're so—and I--”

Roman snatched up Logan's hand, pressing his lips to the back of it. He could feel Logan trembling, and Roman felt his heart tremble in sync with it.

“Me, too, Starlight.”

For a second they just stood there, Logan's hand in his, and Roman's heart...

He had never, not once in his short fourteen years of life, ever felt so tranquil or so powerful, and definitely not both at the same time.

Roman forced himself to be the strong one, releasing Logan's hand so he could shut the door and finally take proper stock of the room.

There was barely any light through the bars on the small window in the door, but Logan moved forward with purpose, locating a torch and lighting it with some spell Roman didn't recognize—one that ignited a dazzling blue-white flame that was far clearer and brighter than the golden flicker of normal torchlight.

The layer of dust covering everything in the room was so thick Roman could feel the urge to cough bubbling in his throat just from breathing the air. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and could have made it easy to mistake the space for a library save for the fact that there were very few books on any of those shelves.

“It's like some kind of storeroom.” Logan observed. “That, or...perhaps a trophy room?”

“I told you,” Roman reminded him, “this palace is full of hidden nooks and crevices—places to hide, or to hide something you don't want anyone else to find. I hardly ever notice this door, but the locator spell sure did.”

“So...who does this belong to?” Logan wondered aloud, venturing over to one of the shelving units that had a few books scattered throughout. “And if these are trophies, what are they trophies of?”

Roman wondered the same thing, so intensely it took him a moment to realize Logan was no longer by his side. Shaking himself, Roman crossed the room carefully, painfully aware of the layer of dust his feet were disturbing as he came to stand beside Logan in front of the shelf. His eyes scanned over the objects and books displayed there until...

“Here!” he suddenly blurted, reaching up to pluck a book off the shelf. “This binding matches the Tomes in the palace library.”

Passing the small, leatherbound volume to Logan, he watched as Logan ran his fingers over the cover with a strangely thoughtful look, head cocked just slightly before he opened the volume.

“Is that it?” he asked hopefully. “The geneaology?”

Logan stared at the first page, shaking his head. “No...I mean, it is one of the Tomes, the one you likely said would have the magical bloodlines of the royal family, but—Roman, this was hidden for a reason. It's one of the Forbidden Tomes.”

“What?! Weren't those lost before the fall of the Animator?”

“Affirmative...this one, however, is quite new. Old still, mind you, but maybe two hundred years old at the most.” Logan looked up at Roman, eyes wide.

“I think this volume is a reconstruction.”

That rattled around in Roman's head, untethered and incomprehensible. “Who would be old enough to be able to rewrite one of the Forbidden Tomes? And how do you know how old this book is?”

Logan just stared at it...then flipped a couple of pages before going weirdly still.

“I can...it's an incorrect description, but I can hear it. The Tomes are written in mystical dialects, languages laden with power. My power.”

He lifted his head, meeting Roman's gaze head on with an intensity that stole Roman's breath.

“The mystical dialect this book was composed in is Mairome—the language of necromancy.”

Roman couldn't get his voice to work for a long moment as Logan turned back to the Tome and began reading, eyes flicking back and forth at a speed that was vaguely dizzying, trying to consume every nuance of the page, drinking it all in.

“What...what does it say?” he finally managed to ask aloud.

Logan didn't answer for a long moment. He shut the book gently, his gaze cast downwards.

“It says,” Logan finally answered, “that King Thomas Roman I is the name of the Animator.”

“...that can't be true. That...that means...”

“It means that the king did not slay the Animator—it means your ancestor assassinated the king. It means the Necromata have a legitimate claim to the throne.”

Roman ran his hands over his face, dizzy with the onslaught of information. “Who knew this that they had to take this book from the palace library and hide it here?”

“I think I know that, too.” Logan croaked, handing the book to Roman. “Start here—you should be able to read it.”

Roman accepted the book and peered at the page. Most of the text was a blurry mess of gently glowing lines and strange symbols, but some of the words were written in clear, plain English in various parts of the page.

When he was done, he passed the book back to Logan, reeling.

“Mori...I know that name.” Roman realized. “What are these?”

“They are the True Names of the monarchy.” Logan replied. “I know the name as well—it is the name of the man who tried to kill me when we first met.”

“...you never told me that.”

“I did not know his place among the palace guard—if he was someone close to you, I feared for your safety if he knew you were aware of his crimes.”

“Corporal Mori...he's a member of the dungeon guard.” Roman murmured. “My brother and I used to sneak into the dungeons to play at adventuring when we were little—he was a new private back then, and cruel to both of us. But...Logan?”

“Yes?”

“The name in there, below Thomas Roman I. Is that the Animator's son?”

Logan swallowed thickly. “It is.”

“But...but his True Name is Crofter...that's your last name.”

“Affirmative. At least...it was. Just as Mori's name was once Thomas Roman Sanders.”

Roman couldn't speak around the sudden tightness in his throat. Instead, Logan spoke for him.

“The Animator...he's not your ancestor, Roman—he's mine.”

Then the door of the storage room opened, slamming against the pile of detritus behind it.

Roman froze. Logan, however, snatched the book and rose.

“I'll lead him away—get back to your rooms at once, and look after Virgil.”

“Logan--”

He was cut off by another abrupt kiss, this one on the cheek.

“We'll get out of this, one way or another. I swear it on the Spider's Thread.”

Then Logan was gone, diving between the legs of the figure in the doorway to lead him away from Roman's location.

********** 1033, A.A.

“Paddock.”

Patton looked up from where he was crouched beside Logan's prone, writhing body. Logan's eyes had rolled back into his head and he was muttering incoherently while he twitched and twisted with an agony Patton could only guess at.

The voice that had spoken aloud belonged to a prison mage he recognized. The man was tall, dark, and tanned. He was handsome, mostly—he always wore dark glasses that hid his eyes, so it was difficult to be sure.

“What're you doing here, Somnum?” Remus asked sharply. He was awfully fast, next to Virgil one minute and the next standing beside Janus in front of Logan's prone form so Patton could only see Master Somnum through the space between their shoulders.

“Remy—the name's Remy, you fuckin' killjoys.” the mage sighed. “Will you just move already? Patton can vouch for me.”

“I can?” He asked uncertainly. Patton's nostrils flared on reflex, trying to scent the air—and immediately felt his magic rise, all animal instinct and threat.

The smell of death, old and ripe, was on the air. Not the smell of corpses or long settled dust, but death, fresh damp grave dirt and sticky in his lungs like worms crawling.

But...

Patton turned to Virgil, crouched beside him, and put a hand on his shoulder. Virgil just looked at him, then at Remus and Remy, and nodded before focusing on his brother again.

Patton stood and came to stand next to Remus. He could feel more than hear the subsonic hiss building in the back of Janus's throat nearby, and found his gaze to reassure him before he faced the prison mage.

“He knows my True Name.” Patton admitted. “Janus can confirm it...but how?”

Remy didn't answer right away. He just stared at Patton, making him feel squirmy stomach and trembly. Breathing felt...not hard, but strange, and he wasn't sure if he liked it--

Reaching up, Remy removed his dark glasses.

“'Cause mine's Graymalkin.” he replied softly.

“What does that mean?” Virgil snapped testily. “Quoting Macbeth at each other won't--”

Patton didn't hear the rest. As far as he knew, Black Dogs and Heralds couldn't fly, but he couldn't feel the floor under his feet anymore...

...oh. Oh, he couldn't feel any of his legs anymore. The world was spinning, too—kind of like playing Statue Maker as a boy, grabbing his friends' hands and spinning, spinning, spinning before he had to stop and strike a pose--

“Patton.”

Patton blinked, and suddenly drew a deep, shuddering breath into his lungs before he started coughing. He—oh, he hadn't been breathing. That wasn't remotely good, willikers!

As he tried to get his breathing normalized, Patton found he was on the floor, being cradled in Janus's arms. His forehead was tucked against the scaled side of his neck, a lovely contrast of cool scales over warm skin and so much softer than anyone would think scales could be. As Patton calmed, he drifted, and gently rubbed his forehead against those scales, sighing at the soothing texture of their satiny surface brushing his skin, the edges gently catching in ways that sent pleasant little buzzes of sensation  from his forehead to skitter over his scalp.

Finally, he lifted his head—and found Remy kneeling in front of them, staring at Patton.

His eyes were pure onyx, from sclera to pupil—solid black orbs in his head, barely glinting in the light of the room. They were the eyes of a hijacked body, a resurrection gone wrong. The owner of the body was gone, and another soul had taken its place.

A soul Patton was fairly certain he knew.

“Patton?” Janus's voice, a question.

Slowly, Patton nodded.

Remy sagged visibly in relief. “You remember...Paddy, I'm a Reaper. I can help Logan. Will you let me?”

Feeling more like himself, Patton nodded again. Without thinking, he twisted and tipped his head up to kiss Janus's cheek before he got shakily to his feet.

“Virgil, Remy's gonna help.” he announced, still watching Remy with a secret fear that this would be a dream and that he'd vanish.

“Fuck you. I don't--”

“He's my brother. Please, Virge.”

There was silence for several moments, but then Remy was moving off some indication from Virgil, and Patton twisted to watch Remy drop to his knees at Logan's side. He touched his forehead, taking his hand and watching him closely.

“Motherfucker knows the only real way to kill a Lazari, and he's using the king to do it.” Remy muttered. “Let's see...nerd's Claim is holding, that's good, but his mind won't hold up under the Baccanal...lemme see, gurl...”

Remy shut his eyes, bowing his head. As he did, Patton suddenly felt a gust of warm air touching the back of his neck, making him flinch and whip his head around.

“Easy, Sin-ammon Roll.”

Prince Remus was there, his hand a buzzing gnat in Patton's awareness as it sat on his shoulder. He was watching Patton with a look he couldn't read—his features were like Janus's, well schooled into calm lines, but his eyes were clouded with some very turbulent emotion.

“Is the prison mage really your brother?”

Patton opened his mouth to answer, but no sound was coming out. The words were all there, but they were sort of...clogging in his throat, too many coming too fast, all fighting to escape at the same time. Fortunately, Janus's arms were suddenly there again, wrapped around his waist, cradling Patton back against his chest, warm warm warm and comforting in their familiarity.

“Patton was four years old when his brother died.” Janus stepped in. “Remington Morell was not quite fourteen—essentially executed in the street. Patton told me when they were children...their mother loved the Scottish play. Quoted it all the time--'I come, Graymalkin' when Remy called for her, 'Paddock calls' when Patton would cry.”

“...but the kid died.”

“Yes, but...it's the black eyes. They indicate the presence of a Raptor.”

“Like the dinosaur?” Remus asked.

“Like a body thief—a soul that hijacks a coprse during a botched resurrection.” Janus sighed, rolling his eyes as Patton twisted his head to look up at him.

“Ohhhh, I mean—wow.”

“Lucky for me, children age in Shadow.” Remy's voice piped up. Refocusing on Logan, Patton realized his best friend wasn't writhing and muttering anymore, just...laying there, asleep. Seemingly, anyway.

“What'd you do?” he asked, gently removing himself from the circle of Janus's arms to move towards Remy as he stood.

“Guided Logan to the Loom of Memory.” he replied. “It'll protect him for a while, and let him communicate with Roman if I'm right about how those two are bound—Mori's got the king under the Baccanal.”

“Cursing him with madness?” Patton breathed, his stomach churning with horror as he covered his mouth with both hands. “That's forbidden, Remoo.”

“Yeah, well, the Animator ain't known for playing by the rules, gurl.” Remy replied with a shrug. “So burning away a man's mind, one layer at a time until he's a drooling vegetable? Totally on the table.”

Patton felt something loosen in his chest as he grinned up at the other man. “You really are Remy, aren't you?”

Remy opened his mouth, brow furrowed with confusion—then understanding filled his features and he grinned, laughing. “Ah, geez—Remoo. You started calling me that when you were two 'cause you couldn't say Remington.”

“It's the only thing I remember really well.” Patton admitted, rushing forward to fling his arms around Remy with a choked laugh that quickly melted to tears.

“Mom and Pop kept your Vigil every Festival—but I never stopped.” he giggled wetly. “Every day—I had an altar in my room...”

“I know.” Remy soothed, holding onto Patton tight and reaching up to tousle his curls in a manner that Patton didn't recognize, but still felt weirdly familiar. “I heard you. Why do you think I snuck back when I realized you were in trouble?”

Patton pressed his face into Remy's shoulder. The smell of the mage's trade clung to him, acid and alcohol and herbs, but under that was something that set of primal echoes in Patton's head of family home safe loved, loamy earth and fresh rain.

Remy held on tight, just for a few seconds, but when he pulled back Patton felt steadier than he had in a very long time.

“We need to get the Lazari outta here.” Remy instructed. “It's a long story, but I was sent here to drag Lord Scaly off for execution. Plans changed, now I'm takin' you all somewhere safe.”

“Where's that?” Virgil asked, flinching when Remus swooped in to gather Logan up into his arms before Virgil could.

“Long story, tell you when we get there. Everyone move.”

********** When Logan opened his eyes, he was home.

It was a very familiar part of his home, however—none other than his childhood bed, wrapped in a familiar pair of arms.

Lifting his head, he had to fight not to lose his composure when he saw Roman's face. His head was nestled into Logan's pillow, features slack with repose...

Then tense, a low noise of distress rumbling in his chest, vibrating against Logan and shooting straight to his marrow.

Reaching out, Logan dug his fingers in beneath Roman's ribs. Fortunately it worked: immediately, Roman woke up with a squeal that was wholly undignified, and melted immediately into giggling he promptly cut off.

“Roman, it's okay...shhhh, you are safe. It's Logan, I'm here.”

Roman stared at him with a blank, unfocused look that scared Logan—actual fear he could not deny any longer, cold and cloying and sticking to the inside of his chest. Those green eyes were glassy and unseeing...they did not know him.

Very deliberately, Logan reached for Roman's hand, meshing their fingers together. He held them up in Roman's eyeline.

“Hold on...do not let go.”

That struck a chord, bringing some focus back to Roman's eyes. After a moment that stretched into eternity, Logan felt Roman's fingers tighten around his. Roman stared at their joined hands, mouth working soundlessly...

“I...never have.” Roman finally replied. “I never will.”

Logan's throat closed up, his eyes burning.

“Swear it on the Spider's Thread?” He hated how small his voice sounded, how desperate.

Recognition finally sparked in Roman's eyes.

“...Starlight.”

Logan lost control then, flinging himself into Roman's arms. Roman let himself be bowled over onto his back, let Logan stretch out atop his body, press his face into the curve of Roman's neck, and just held on tight as Logan wept for the first time in ten years. Deep, heaving, wretched sobs that Roman soothed him through, a hand running over his back, Roman's deep and beautiful voice murmuring soothing nonsense directly into his ear.

Time passed. The slow, steady rhythm of Roman's fingers gradually smoothed the jagged edges until he could reach out and touch them without getting cut open again.

“Did you know?” Logan finally asked, lifting his head to meet Roman's gaze.

Roman stared back up at him, uncomprehending as his fingers drifted up to caress Logan's cheek. Logan found himself unable to resist leaning into the tender touch.

“Did I know what?”

“That day by the river—before the Festival. Did you know that you changed my True Name.”

“...not until we found the Tome. I...suspected something happened, but wasn't sure until we read about your grandfather.”

“What about later? When you came to me in my cell and gave me my new Name?”

“I...I'm not sure. I know I wasn't supposed to remember what you were to me, but...”

But he had. Reaching up to catch the hand Roman still had pressed to his cheek, Logan felt like he understood. Not really, but...but that was the point.

Roman never should have remembered enough to care about Logan, yet he'd come to find him, and helped him in his moment of need.

“I think,” Logan began hesitantly, “that it is as Grandpap often says. The stuff of Shadow—the things we are not allowed to know.”

Roman frowned pensively. His brow furrowed with it, and Logan let himself surrender to the temptation of bowing his head and kissing that line away.

“Miracles.” Roman murmured. “Shadow brought to the light.”

Logan made a sound of affirmation, nose brushing along Roman's hairline.

“Or an outsider brought to the Loom of Memory.”

Roman shifted under him, seeking out Logan's gaze with wide, curious green eyes.

“Is that where we are?” he asked, awestruck.

Logan nodded, running his fingers through Roman's hair.

“It is...and time moves differently here.” he explained, mouth hovering over Roman's.

Time Logan was going to take...because if Logan was Lazari, that meant he had power. If he was descended from the Animator, the First and most powerful, he had more power still. If he was bound, soul to soul, to the ruler of all the Kingdoms, Logan had power beyond magic.

He had all the power, maybe more, of his ancestor. Power enough to corrupt.

So he allowed it to corrupt him. He let himself be ruthlessly selfish.

He was not going to allow Roman to be taken from him again.

Never again.

********** He expected to feel a warm, strong pair of arms around him when he rose from a deep and restful slumber...but instead, his groggy mind was rattled by voices.

“So you've just been...what? Fooling him into thinking you were zombified? That's hot, don't get me wrong, but I don't see how he'd buy it.”

“Gurl, greedy men are dumber than a bag of hair—ain't that right, Emi?”

“Eh—yes, sweetheart. Basically, anyway. It takes a great deal of focus and power to control as many dead as Mori currently is.”

“That's why our people don't normally do it—raising a corpse is way different from resurrecting someone to life. Grandpap told Logan off for even suggesting the raising of more than two corpses at the same time. It's doable, but I think five is the limit before you risk madness under the weight of all those deaths.”

“So these are really zombies? Not people he resurrected? Gosh, that's just...scary.”

“Easy, baby brother—none of 'em are coming the fuck near you. That's why I got a heart-healer on my side...they don't tell people that they study necromancy on the side, y'know.”

“Remy, please. We don't...er...well, we don't study all of necromancy. Just necromatic theory—its relation to the mind. The function of the Cleansing, body theft, the psychological toll of magic...that's sort of how Remy and I met. I'm a bit of a bookworm...”

“Shhhh, he's waking up!”

Finally opening his eyes, he moved to sit up, reaching, fumbling until strong fingers caught his.

“It's okay, Loganberry—you're fine.”

“Logan—where is he?”

That was the moment he froze, his question coming out...strange. Deep, but not deep enough, well enunciated but too stiff.

“Logan?”

That was his voice...but it wasn't his voice saying Logan's name.

“...something's wrong.”

He looked around in confusion. Something was wrong with his eyes, the world fuzzy and haloed in blurs of color. He could recognize Remus only from the color of his tunic and the sound of his voice.

“Remus? What's happening?”

“Hold on—Virgil, his glasses.”

He didn't wear glasses, what the--

Then a pair was being set on his face, and the world suddenly came into painful focus. He was laying on a low couch in one of the palace offices. Remy and the heart-healer, Emile Picani, stood off to one side. Virgil and Remus knelt by his side now, with Janus and Patton wrapped around each other by the window.

Trembling, he lifted his hands in front of his face.

Pale. Slim. Long, lean fingers that had run through his hair so greedily, touched him so tenderly, blunt nails scoring skin in the depths of his mind...

“...Roman?”

Lowering Logan's hands—now his hands—Roman looked into his twin brother's eyes, into the face that he shared with him.

Or had at the start of the day.

“Please tell me that my brother did not just swap bodies with the fucking king?” Virgil squeaked, looking visibly ill as he swallowed thickly.

Roman, wearing Logan's skin, nodded slowly.

“I think he did,” Roman replied, “and in doing so...he just gave Mori exactly what he wanted.”

[randominternetbosonignog785]

Mikans last Christmas.

So this story was something I was going to release on christmas but then i gave up on it, but then I diddnt, so here you go. Disclaimer its kinda gory n stuff has some naughty language and its a tad bit suggestive but its pretty pg bois.

Twas the night before christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Though there were no stockings by the walls, nor trees or presents to brighten up the halls, but instead were cupboards and draws blocking out the doors and half flipped scattered tables to shield a man that was barely keeping himself stable.

Every piece of furniture was stripped from their place, only to be used as blockades to keep out any new face. In normal circumstances many people would think  the house was a tip but when it came to the biggest, most awful, most tragic event in human history, everyone had to get a grip.

Behind one of the half flipped tables near a cracked television, a large man wrinkled with age sat roughly on the floor with his rear resting against the desk's backside. The man had a slight beer belly, his scalp was just beginning to lose its hair and overall he just about had enough of life; what you'd expect from a fifty year old man who was down on his luck in the world, although ever since a certain wanker decided to ram a glass dagger into his right arm - ever since the world went tits up out of nowhere, his lucks been shit.

"Haaaarrgh...grrrrrr!"

The man gurgled and growled out his pain as he attempted to thrust a towel he found in one of his daughters med kits onto the red bleeding pool that flushed out of his arm. '

Apply with firm pressure? Even the fuckin manual's trying to kill me.' The squirming man thought to himself. Soon enough, he simply gave up and just decided to lie on the floor of his living room to try and get at least a wink of sleep, trying his best to ignore the niggling and nagging of the nerves in his wounded arm. It was hard finding the peace of sleep though, as the outside world he once knew had now become a hostile alien planet he might die in at any given moment and it didn't help that the air felt thicker than usual.

A few weeks.

It had only been a few weeks since he had his last pint, but now everybody started stabbing each other. It had only been a few weeks since he last relaxed watching his favorite shows on his favorite armchair, but now he was shivering on the floor, lacking the courage to go and sleep in his own bedroom. It had only been a few weeks since his worthless daughter had enrolled in some school for smart sods...

But now she was probably dead.

"Daddy?"

Almost feeling like a second after his conscience finally slipped into slumber, the rugged man abruptly snapped awake once more upon hearing a voice call out from the darkness, presumingly for him.

"Daddy? Are you still here?"

The female voice sounded so slender and savoury yet innocent and playful and it chilled the man to his bone. The man couldn't figure out how someone broke through his homemade barricade, but he couldn't feel surprised either, but it didn't matter now. He was now sharing his house with the one of many psychopaths that infested the outside world.

"Daaaddy~ where are you?"

'The sick fuck must be getting some sort of kink out of this' the man swore in his mind. Suddenly without warning, a heavy shower started to spew and spatter outside and somehow, the individual splats and taps managed to pierce through the man's ear drums, yet at this point the girl's calm yet threatening voice was able to drown out the rain itself.

That bitch was getting closer.

The man now knew he had no time left. He knew that it was do or die, he knew it was time to be a man. The voice sounded like it belonged to some kid, so why was he pissing his pants in his little time out corner? Finally, he remembered that he had one of his kitchen knives sitting around his used med kit and picked it up. He wasn't gonna let some little shit be the end of him.

"There you are daddy."

Before he could even start to gather his courage, that cold, icey siren of a voice was already singing next to him and a chilling warmth somehow caressed his ear. The man's heart skipped a beat. She was this close already.

He should have just skedaddled, the man should just have vamoosed but instead his bottom was eternally bound to the floor and all he did was instinctively turn around in complete despair. The man expected the intruder to stab his stomach or simply inject another piece of glass into his other arm, but instead, The very same second his heart refused to beat, his mouth was suddenly covered by some sort of thick tissue and then caused a sudden drowsiness to spread inside him. He felt weak. Before his very being fell into darkness he only caught a brief glimpse of his assassin's eyes, but it was enough information he had to know to effectively deduce who it was that had sealed his fate.

Out of anyone in the world that could have taken away his pointless life, it of course had to be his very own daughter. It was the same child he had neglected for so many years and if it was her out of all the other crazy fuckers ending his life; the man didn't seem to mind.

The man's muscles soon refused to twitch let alone break his fall as he plummeted, back first onto the floor. Despite the fact that his entire body was instantly shutting down though, somehow he managed to keep the dumbbells weighing upon his lids alift for a few seconds longer, just to try and see for certain if whoever stood above him really was who he thought and sure enough the thin girl that invaded his thoughts toward before the man.

Her straw-like hair was tangled and drowned in scalp snot and her usual nurse-like outfit was filthy and terribly torn. Her small speckless face though, in a way relieved the man with its familierality but at the same time horrified him with its grave difference in expression. The constant worry from her puppy-like eyes was gone, now replaced with an expression that the man couldn't possibly describe as happiness, but she was smiling; harder and more larger than she ever smiled before. 'Come to think of it', the man last thought, he had never seen his own daughter smile. He regretted that he had to think such a thought and he regretted how it came to this. He regretted everything and in his last moments of consciousness all the man could do was regret.

Why didn't he ever notice that he had such a beautiful daughter?

The saw sinks right into the leg bone~

The right arm tears off the elbow~

Apply firm pressure, don't leave the wounds open~

Don't forget to sterilise with cream~

"I did it daddy. Merry christmas."

After what seemed like an eternity, feeling as if at random, the man's eyelids finally decided to open, while at the same time his stomach felt as if it was still debating whether or not it wanted to burst open. He was on a bed and it felt impossible to get up. The man's sight invited him back to a blurry mess of a world, mangled with muddy pixels of blacks and greys that were meshed with a glowing orange that most likely represented light, and on top it all off, he was just about having the shittiest headache he ever had in his life. He wasn't dead at the very least, but dear god he might as well have been.

"Daddy, you're finally awake!"

Listening to that voice yet again...he now unmistakingly knew that it was his daughter who was talking.

"Mikan, what happened? What are you doing here?" The man's gritty growl of a voice, strained from obvious- stress finally uttered the name of his child. The pixelated colours that represented his proposed daughter were still mixed in with the blacks and greys of the room but slowly yet surely, he could already tell his sight was reorganising the world back together again.

"The outside world daddy." She purred. "It's scary out there. People who I thought were my friends started stabbing each other and some even started slicing off their hands and fingers and if it wasnt that they'd end up killing themselves. I was so scared."

She wasn't being serious. Given The context of her small speech, the man should have been able to feel some small amount of sorrow, but he felt none. All he could catch was the disguised yet painfully clear sarcasm in the girl's voice, which drained all the weight from her words.

"I came back home because I knew it would be safe."

That wasn't true, was it? She was back to kill him, just like the rest of me. It was the only thing that made sense; to get revenge on how he treated her. After thinking about it for a second though, the man probably deserved it.

"I saw you fainted on the floor when I found you daddy. So I took you to my room and took very special care of you."

Another obvious lie added to the man's paranoia and was beginning to feel iller by the second. What in God's name did mikan-

!

He couldn't move his right hand. No. He couldn't feel his right hand. In disbelief as well as desperation, the man worriedly wiggled every last limb that was still attached to his body, and where his lower left leg should have jolted...

Shit! He was drugged right? He must've been dreaming right? It was a dream. It had to be a dream! The meshy fog in the man's eyes finally felt like clearing and with all his inner strength he turned his head round to face his right arm; but all that was left was the arm and all that came out of its tip it was a small lump of thickly layered bandages, dyed in dry blood.

It was a fucked up dream. The man continued thinking. He couldn't feel the pain right? So it was just a fucked up dream, birthed from his newfound daily stresses. The pain from his old arm injury must have been giving him a horrific nightmare.

"It was hard patching you up when you were bleeding so heavily daddy." The bitch went on. "I had to give you a ton of painkillers and stuff to keep you from feeling the pain. I'm sorry. You must feel terrible right now. It's a good thing I saved you."

She was fucking insane. Painkillers? No- the only reason he couldn't feel the pain was because he was dreaming; This was just my mind's way of punishing him. There's no way he should still be alive like this.

"Good thing the ultimate nurse was here to save you daddy and don't worry I'll take care of you. I won't let you die like everyone else daddy. You're safe with me daddy."

"All you need now is me."

Fuck. Shit. fucking shit. This cant be fucking happning! How the hell did it come to this? The man couldn't curse enough. This was too fucked up to be a dream, but at the same time it was too fucked up to be real, but it just had to be fucking dreaming. Being drugged by his own daughter had to be a fucking dream. All of the last few weeks had to be a fucking dream. He had to believe it was. He had to for the sake of what small sanity he had left, and as if by reading his thoughts the monster smiled. Mavoilevent, vengeful and pure evil were the only words that spawned when the man's now mushy mind attempted to decipher such a grin. This was how he died: by the hands of his own fucking kid. Now accepting that, the man then realised that keeping himself aware of the living world was only going to make him fearful of the inevitable and so he let his heavy eyelids fall just so he could at least have the luxury of dying without knowing what hit him, but something out of place then uttered from Mikans small lips.

"So what do you want to do first?"

A question instead of a threat. Was it curiosity instead of bloodlust? Despite still hearing that wrongfully playful tone in his daughters still silk like voice, for whatever reason, the girl's strange question gave the man enough hair on his balls to open up his eyes to his assassin yet again. This time he was eye to eye with mikans face; her straw like hair gravitated towards him and her skin: crystal clear, causing what was left of her innocence to glow, while also horribly smudged with scars and bruises of the past, reminding the man of why he was here now. She was almost on top of him and only her slender arms held her above the man, acting as cemented pillars beside his neck. The man's response was delayed by the surprise of Mikan's random actions and all he could offer in exchange was a limp wimper of confusion.

Was she going to kill him or not?

Mikan then suddenly retreated from her pose and sat down at the end of the bed, avoiding squishing his leg. Well, the one that still had an end to it.

"Comon’ daddy, now we can play anything you want. Maybe you can try drawing on me, everyone always loved doing that back at school so you should give it a try!"

"What?" The man finally spat out.

"I'm sorry!" She blurted apologetically, while also completely out of place. "Maybe that's too weird for you. Do you want me to squeal like a pig again? You always loved doing that daddy. Roleplay was always your favorite."

Why? Why was she asking this? Did she develop a thing for fucking massicasisom while she was gone? He couldn't question everything enough, the man's mind just began to melt from stress and confusion. Despite the lingering silence the man couldn't help but create though, without any sign of permission Mikan settled onto the floor boards on all fours and simply started to squeal like a pig.

This was it. This was hell. This was God's heavenly punishment.

"@#$@%*!"

It was his fault she ended up like this. The man knew this now. Why did fate have to ram the fact down his throat?

"#$@%*^=!"

He fucking got it. He made his kid into a fucking physcopath. Big hoo-fuckin-ray! Just kill him for it already!

"Oink. €£#$@%*^=! oink oink."

But the universe thought death wasn't enough. Oh no, the sweet release of death was never enough to right this mans wrongs, experiencing the end of the world was never enough, being disected like a fucking frog was never enough. No.

"#$@%€¥₩! Oink."

He had to endure the desperate screams for attention. Take in the blood curdling cries for mere notice. He had to tolerate the broken girl's ungranted wishes for a better father.

"₩¥€*$%@! $$%£@!"

And he did...until he couldn't.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

She stopped squealing, but the animalistic screams still remained in the man's ears.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

"...Daddy?" She mumbled, somehow sounding shocked at his response.

"Shut...up. please." The man begged. He couldn't take it any more.

"I'm sorry Daddy." The girl apologizes again. With her voice finally sounding more mellow than sadistic. "I forgot you liked to see me do that with all of my clothes off...give me a second."

At this point The man was truly bewildered how he raised such a sad creature.

"Mikan." The man once again called out the name of his child as his eyes began to leak. "Please, enough of this."

Mikan then climbed back onto the end of the bed and locked with my eyes; hers instantly succumbed with certain grief as if she feared those words from the start.

"Daddy I thought you liked playing with me."

I stared back into her eyes with an assertive glance. One way or another, she had to learn that tearing off people’s limbs was some fucked up shit and no way to get what she wanted. It was the only way of redeeming himself, yet not even several seconds passed before she couldn't bare the silent treatment.

"Don’t ignore me Daddy. Dont do that again, please dont ignore me! please forgive me. I know I cut off your arm and your leg but I only did that so you wouldnt leave me alone again, I only did that so we could play forever. I only did that for us Daddy, because I love you! And Daddy loves me."

....

"...right?"

The man did not deserve to admit he loved her back because now he realized that He never deserved love. Not from his daughter, not from his late wife, hell, not even from his own old folks. The man now realised that he was human shit and all he ever offered was a shitty stench to smell for everyone around him and now he had intoxicated Mikan with his vulgar stink. The least he could do now was to relive some of the fumes and stop his daughter from absorbing any more of his odour. All he had to do was ignore her and be lucky for the man: that was what he did best.

!

As if satan himself sent everything he had to crush every shred of the man's newfound resolve, an intense surge of pain he had never felt before, striked at the ends of the dismembered body parts the man had almost forgotten about. He already saw his arm freshly bitten off and his leg cut clean but his mind was only now reacting to his sights and now every ounce of thought he once carried was instantly drowned out by a powerful, primordial pain.

"Ahhh...ahhhhhggghha. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhh!" This time it was the man's turn to squeal like a pig. The entire world's suffering encapsulated in one single moment - all the man could do was vent all the pain out for all to hear.

"Daddy, Don't scream! Please...please stop screaming like that!"

Panic flourished in the depths of the girl's mind. The painkiller's effect wore off more quickly than she had originally calculated and it was only a matter of time before her dad died of the pain caused by his dismemberment. She knew she had to drug him back to sleep immediately and wait for his wounds to heal, but somehow, the few words that slithered out of the dying man's lips, kept her sat, frozen on the bed.

"Mikan...help me please."

Those few words changed everything.

Her legs were glued. Her heart beated faster and faster but her head paused and her sense of urgency plainly disappeared. The girl's body simply couldn't be bothered to move anymore. What was this feeling?

"Mi-kan....Mi-"

Daddy was dead.

The girl felt no grief. No regret, no remorse, not a trace of despair birthed from her mistake.

She just sat there.

The nonexistent glue still sews her short legs to the mattress of the bed. Her beating heart was still rapid, but her mind acted first.

That feeling was so close to euphoric. She might have been unusual but she always imagined the death of her only family would make her sad but she felt far from that. Then she knew why.

"Daddy...-I was the last person daddy was thinking about. I was the last person on Daddys mind."

All she wanted was attention, all she wanted was agnolegenent, all she wanted was to be loved. Her patients were always weak and broken but thanks to that they depended on her, they were grateful for her and they gave her all the attention she could ever ask for. Drugging daddy and immobilizing him was just a way to make him like one of her patients and if dismembering daddy was going to make him love her forever then that was what she should do. Instead though she ended up murdering him and now she was all alone again But still, that emotion remained. The fact that she was daddy's last thought accelerated her and the feeling of knowing that made her feel so relieved and somehow Mikan couldn't barely bring herself to regret what happened. Daddy was nothing but a corpse now, she knew that she had failed at being the so called 'ultimate nurse,' she knew she'd never see, touch or talk with her father ever again and yet the final begs and pleads for his life felt like more attention than he had ever decided to give to her.

"Daddy is dead." She sobbed. Lines of tears streamed down her skin.

"But I was his last thought. Daddy yearned for me. Daddy wanted me to save him." She giggled. She didn't know why but she went on giggling until the giggles evolved into laughter and eventually the seeds of her laughter bloomed into a savage song of sorry cackles. The conflicted emotions of depression and pleasure clashed in war inside Mikan's mind and the effects of their battle gushed out of Mikan in the form of chuckles and sobs. She didn't know what she should have felt anymore. Mikan had now truly lost her mind.

!

Warmth. Embrace. Love. It was all in a single moment. Her beloved.

"Jun-ko?"

"Shush now Mikan. It's okay."

Her beloved was here and for the first time in ages, Mikan felt cleansed. Her wobbling knelt legs gave way and tumbled down sideways like skyscrapers that crashed down onto the dovay, as the warmth from Junko's breasts aroused her. A Slender yet tender arm caressed the girl's hip and softly squeezed her core; while another gently stroked off the pieces of dandruff burrowed within her straw like hair, giving Mikan an inviting fuzzy feeling inside. It was pure love. If only the world could let her stay like this forever.

"Junko..." Mikan began to vent. "Your plan didn't work. D-daddy just decided to ignore me in the end." She went on. "A-and when he died he said my name, he begged me to save him and then I-I had this strange feeling."

Junko's voice then hummed in Mikan's ear. Her boiling breath was gentle and warm and just like the sun in a snowstorm, it melted every little bit of Mikans of well earnt fatigue.

"What kind of feeling was it?"

"It was a pleasure. I-I felt good. I even felt happy, even though he's dead now..."

Before a seed of panic could begin to spread in Mikan's soul, the slight sound of Junko's voice once again quelled any flames of anxiety lit within her and the words that were delivered with that voice, finally Settled the mental storm brewing within Mikan.

"You're just like me Mikan."

That was it. She was just like her beloved. It made so much sense now and with that everything was right again. Suddenly the frail girl broke free of the others hug just to turn around and dive into the cushiony breasts of her beloved and just like that she let it all out.

"Merry Christmas my little Mikan." Junko made one last whisper.

"Now get on the floor. I wanna hear you squeal like a pig again. Dont forget to strip down nude this time you little shit."

"Of course." Mikan faintly mutterd and soon did. She diddnt like it, but if it was what her beloved wanted hee to do. If it made hee beloved happy, then she was more than willing to do anything for her.

***

Hajime.

A skinny girl, dressed in a smart yet tattered nursing uniform stood anxiously outside a holiday cabin. This girl was no ordinary girl though as in the last few hours she had mercilessly murdered two of her own classmates. The girl felt no grief, no regret, nor remorse as she felt nothing but joy when being the last reflection of someone's eye before it was darkened forever. Ibuki and Hyoko were really nice friends and they just had to be her next victims to help relieve herself, as well as in helping along Junoko's killing game but for some reason, instead of covering up her tracks, her instincts brought her here. To her neighbor's beach cabin who was coincidentally investigating her crime.

It was a dumb move in the persective of a killer to randomly show themselves up to the detective but to Mikan; it was something she had to do. As expected, the door was open and just by opening the door the girl could see the boy she was looking for completely conked out on his bed. Being the ultimate nurse she could instantly tell that hajime was sleeping on the investigation due to obvious stress but despite that she couldn't help herself and without a second thought the girl dug under the boys covers and gently squeezed the slumbering life saviour to her core. Just like last time in the hospital, her hunch was correct. Hajime was just as warm, soft and comforting as her beloved.

She held the boy tight and as the emotions that came with the memories of her last Christmas came back to haunt her, she held tighter and tighter. The raging battle inside her soul was back. The truce of those emotions was not going to last forever. The fight between love and pleasure. What was more important to her? Seeing her friends free themselves from her beloved's killing game and live out the rest of their lives together? Or was it making sure that she was the last face, the last person, the last thought everyone would have minds before they finally die and witnessing all their anguish and hatred for herself? The attention she always craved was so close in her reach but the accursed emotion of guilt she thought she had repealed long ago was getting in the way again.

She then came to an ultimatum And whispered in hajimes ear

"Hajime. I did it."

...

...

He was still asleep.

With her internal struggle more or less settled, the girl squeezed the boy one last time and slept peacefully beside her second yet brief love.

Art credit:

Picture made by 'lil Mikan.' https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/1118770/manga

[autumnslance]

Hey, I'm gonna need you to give us a short story with Thancred teaching Aeryn how to gunbreaker now, specifically through dueling and close melee range.

((You’re just trying to enable me and get some trope-ridden, indulgent fic posted, huh? Well joke’s on you buddy, I already have a tropey, indulgent draft, though it’s from Heavensward patch era, featuring grumpy Thancred, amused Midgardsormr, and definitely a sparring match. Now on Ao3. So is the follow up.))

——-

“You’re avoiding me,” Aeryn said before Thancred could walk away.

“No,” he answered. “I have been busy. As have you. All of us, preparing for Ser Aymeric’s grand tournament.”

“Then let’s prepare,” she said. “Spar with me.”

“Perhaps later–”

She crossed her arms and glared. “Why? You’re lounging, so please don’t tell me you’re currently busy. I also checked with Tataru.”

Thancred closed his mouth to bite back the ready reply. “Why do you need to spar anyway? We all know you are going to win. ‘Tis what you do.”

She caught the bitterness he tried to hide. “Not always,” she answered. They did not look at each other for a long moment. “Anyroad, I shouldn’t get complacent. And you’re the best sparring partner.”

“Am I?” he asked. There might have been a hint of acid in his tone.

“None better. Absolute taskmaster.”

He snorted and pushed off the wall he was leaning on. “Well fine, if you’re going to be flattering.”

They made their way through the gates and across the Steps of Faith, the wind whipping at their clothes and hair. Aeryn watched him.

“What?” He asked.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked. “After so many years in Thanalan, and you tend to wear lighter gear–”

“No,” Thancred said after a moment. “It is rather refreshing actually. And desert nights are chilly in their own way. Though I admit, I would not say no to an afternoon lounging in Vesper Bay’s square over crossing this bridge.”

“With overpriced orange juice from the Pissed Peiste?”

He did not reply, though for a moment it looked as if he might. He must have remembered he was angry, and wished to forgo banter. Aeryn suppressed a sigh.

“The tournament will be happening around here,” Thancred said as they reached the open plain beyond the Steps. The road stretched east and up toward Camp Dragonhead, clouds gathering over distant Xelphatol beyond the hills. Down to the west, she could barely make out the glint of Whitebrim’s towers.

“You will want to have a good idea of the ground,” he continued, crouching and peering across the open space. “Wouldn’t do to fall face first at some private’s feet because you tripped over a chinchilla’s burrow.”

“I think there’s a detail coming out to grade the area later today,” she said, drawing her rapier. “But that will just make it easier.”

“Hrmph.” He stood again, stretching as he did, then swinging his arms. “No doubt. Still; let us forgo magic for now. I want to see how you have worked on your swordsmanship these past few moons.”

“You’re sure you’re not cold?”

“I am limbering up,” he said, tone as cool as the air.

Aeryn shrugged. If he wanted to be that way. She was about to start her own stretches when Thancred suddenly dashed at her, blades drawn, making her bring her own up to meet them and immediately putting her on the defensive, forcing her back a few steps.

“Do your enemies announce when they’re ready?” He snarled, testing her defenses. He was mostly using his long Allagan blade, but she kept an eye on his smaller off-hand weapon; he had changed how he fought during his time in the wilderness.

Before, he had fought with a single sword, or matched short blades. His style had been flamboyant, even to the point of showing off, as a way to obfuscate his strikes and baffle his foes. As he pushed Aeryn across the clearing, she noted he still fought with flair and panache not found in most combatants–yet seemed more direct, less reliant on feints and misdirection than in the past. There was nothing wasteful in his movement, for all they flowed like a dance.

She could admit she was a bit envious.

And still on the back foot, godsdammit. She tried a parry Haurchefant had taught her, and gained back a few steps. A few quick strikes practiced with Lucia put Thancred on the defensive, and she caught him briefly grin.

“Mayhap your flirting across Coerthas has done you well after all,” he said, a sharp edge to the teasing.

“What?” Aeryn demanded. How dare he, he knew her better than—

The Echo’s warning came a moment too late as he spun away from her riposte, running his blade along the length of hers until with a flick of his wrist, her sword was caught, her arm twisted back as he stepped behind her, his offhand coming up to rest lightly against her throat.

“You’re easily distracted,” his voice rumbled low in her ear.

Aeryn turned her head to retort, but the words stuck when their eyes met and she was suddenly, intensely aware of being pressed against him, back to chest, their breathing heavy from the exercise and nearly in time with one another. They were close to the same height–he was only perhaps two ilms taller–so their faces were close, his brown eye strangely hooded and his lips were right there as he leaned in and gods why was she even thinking that…

They were close enough she could taste his breath, their lips barely brushing. Her eyes closed of their own accord, in anticipation of further pressure.

“…No,” he breathed, and she was suddenly spun, like when they used to dance to entertain the other Scions in that time Before Ul’dah.

Aeryn and Thancred stood in the snow, staring at one another. “That’s enough for today,” he said brusquely. “If you stay focused, you should do well enough against the Grand Companies.”

“Thancred…”

He turned away. “I apologize; that was an inappropriate distraction.”

She stared at his back for a long moment. Before he could turn his head to look, she cleared her throat. “Nothing to apologize for,” Aeryn said shortly. “All’s fair, as they say.”

“…Quite,” he replied, though sounded strange. “I believe I am rather cold after all, and will retire to the Forgotten Knight for some of Gibrillont’s mulled wine.”

She waited for him to add more, to invite her along, to offer to discuss whatever the seven hells that had been, but he walked on toward the gate. To be fair, though, she couldn’t quite manage to make those offers herself.

Aeryn watched him go, then continued to practice; not as effective as with a partner, but better than nothing, and she wouldn’t be returning to the city with him and the continued air of awkwardness.

“Thou art restless,” Midgardsormr’s voice rumbled from her left. Aeryn paused, looking over to see the small dragonet form of the ancient wyrm sitting upon a nearby stone.

“There is much to prepare for tomorrow,” she answered, returning to her drills.

“Yet there is spare time for courtship rituals?”

Aeryn fumbled mid-maneuver, nearly dropping her rapier. She blinked at him. “What? No! That was…we were sparring. Practicing, for tomorrow’s tournament.”

The dragonet tilted his head. “‘Tis not what it appeared, but mortals are strange.”

She only grunted a response and returned to her ready stance. Feint, riposte, zwerchhau…

“He is strong and skilled,” Midgardsormr continued, in a musing tone. “As I recall, such qualities are sought after, as mortals require physical mating to pass on–

“Midgardsormr,” Aeryn hissed–after stumbling again, her face on fire.

He flapped his tiny wings, and she swore he was grinning. “I was but making an observation, child, and musing on the differences between thy kin and mine own. Draconic mating is a melding of mind and spirit, rather than the flesh.”

“I am aware,” Aeryn said tightly, trying to not snap at the Father of Dragons. This was not helping take her mind off that almost-kiss. She was certain, too, the elder knew that.

There was a shift in the dragonet’s stance, and his deep black eyes now watched her closely, the hint of mirth faded. “Thou hath enjoyed the man’s companionship in the past.’Twould seem since his return, you have been at odds.”

Aeryn sheathed her blade; she was getting no further exercise in today. “…Yes,” she finally answered him. “‘Twould seem that way. I…failed to save the person he entrusted to my care, and then I failed to bring her back.”

Midgardsormr shook his head. “She but followed thy Mother’s call, and made her own choice. There was naught for thee to do upon the matter. Thou shouldst not blame thyself–Nor bear blame from others.” The last came with a slight warning growl.

“I…I don’t know if he does or not,” she admitted. “We’ve worked together, and he was honestly concerned when I was poisoned…And…” Her back pressed to his chest, his eye looking into hers, their lips not even an ilm apart. “…I’m likely imagining things, that’s all.”

That had to be it. A simple distraction, as he had said. She mustn’t read into it.

“Hrmph,” Midgardsormr rumbled. “How thy people have propagated when capable of such self-delusion is one of life’s great mysteries.”

She glowered at him. “Which of us is the expert at mortals, actually being one? You’re mistaken. Thancred is known for his flirtations and distractions; that is all it was. Naught more.”

The dragonet stretched, and made a motion almost akin to a shrug. “Thy protestations are noted,” he responded, before fading out in a puff of aether.

Aeryn rubbed her forehead. She could still sense his rumbling chuckle in the back of her mind. Once she was more or less composed–or at least no longer felt as if her face would set fire to the Gates of Judgment when she passed through them–she made her way back to the city.

—

What in the seven bloody hells had he been thinking?

Thancred ran a hand over his face as he nursed his mulled wine. The problem, of course, was that he had not been thinking. Caught in the rhythm of their sparring match, he had reacted on instinct, and she was right there and…

Inappropriate, he reminded himself. For so very many reasons. He knew at one point he had had a list, the first time he had bucked this ridiculous notion of an interest in the woman who had become their Warrior of Light.

There was one; the champion of the realm could certainly do better than a grizzled, magicless rogue.

There was another; since his misadventure in the Lifestream and being left in Dravania’s wilderness without magic, he now looked and felt closer to his actual age of thirty-two winters. Still young enough to do his job, but it seemed a decent gap against her twenty-six. She was even younger than–

That thought made him slug down a too-large gulp of too-hot wine. It helped focus the pain and gave an excuse for the tears threatening to appear as he coughed, waving away the bartender.

Aeryn had looked him in the eye and nodded when he had told her “whatever it takes” and yet…

That was not fair, and not part of the list, though he couldn’t help the anger, the grief, the shame at lying to F'lhaminn.

He retired to the small room in Cloud Nine that Tataru had rented for him. Laying in bed staring at the ceiling, he found his mind wandering back to the sparring match. How Aeryn felt pressed against him, how she smelled, how her grey eyes had darkened and then closed as their lips nearly touched…Godsdammit.

He could always blame spending time alone in the wilderness for how easily distracted he was by a pretty woman, colleague or not.

That Aeryn had seemed willing did not help; it would have been easier if she had pushed him away, cursed at him, reminded him that she did not experience such base attractions. A voice whispered that did not negate a desire for intimacy, and there were those rumors of her and the knight. He told that voice to shut up as he rolled over. But his imagination continued, conjuring images of furthering that kiss, of pressing closer, his fingers tangling in her fine black hair, the taste of her…

The aftertaste of mulled wine on his own tongue remembered the bite he had smelled in the fallen cup at Falcon’s Nest, her lying on the floor as chaos reigned outside, and the feeling of his heart in his throat at the idea of Aeryn poisoned.

Perhaps that was why he was in such a strange mood, he decided. Fear for his friend’s life, even as he was still grieving Minfilia.

Satisfied, he turned his mind to a mummer’s breathing exercise, a trick to fall asleep quickly, forcing his mind to still so he could rest.

—-

((There’s a lemony solo-Thancred follow-up to this too.))

[simp4cas]

New Memories

Sam Winchester × Reader

Prompt: After getting to know why your boyfriend dislikes Halloween, you're determined to make him forget all about it.

Warnings: Implied smut, fluff (sorta)

A/n: There is an Office reference in this fic since that's the only other show I watch other than Supernatural.

So I gave this fic idea to @holylulusworld as an ask for her Kinktober list and kinda ended up writing a version myself. So be sure to check out her's too right here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, let’s go home.”

“What?”

“We’ve been out here for half an hour.”

"You really don't like Halloween, do you?" You ask, momentarily looking away from the joyful crowds of children in various and creative costumes as they skipped from house to house, their candies in their bags rustling with each step.

The taller Winchester sighs beside you. "You already know why I don't like Halloween."

"But it was over something stupid!" You say, and smile, removing your hand from his and wrapping it around his arm. "We're out here creating new memories. Come on!"

He looks at you with a smile ghosting his face, his eyes roaming your costume of brown slacks, a tan shirt with a brown tie and fake glasses perched on your nose. "You really went all out with you costume, right?"

"Dwight K. Schrute," you smile and speak in almost bored tone to match your favourite character's voice. "Assistant regional manager."

You look at Sam expectantly and he sighs. "To the, you mean."

You chuckle and continue walking, the orange and purple lights decorating the subarban houses lightening up your mood. “And, I didn’t go all out. Just bought these online. Wasn’t that hard to find.”

The two of you had been walking in the neighborhood for the past hour, not trick-or-treating (even if you wanted to, you doubted people would hand you candy) but just walking and looking at the decorations put up. The children laughing everywhere and everyone just being happy really brought your spirits up.

“Atleast I wore a costume,” you say and look at Sam with a smirk. He was obviously donning one of his flannels and his jeans.

“We wear costumes everyday,” Sam chuckles, guiding your hands around his torso so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders.

After walking together in a comfortable silence for another five minutes, you look down at your watch. "Hey, I think we should head back."

"Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re right. Anyways, we should probably check on the guys-” you look down at your watch again, forgetting the time- “How many movies do you think they’re done with?”

“I don’t know. Four, probably.”

You tilt your head slightly to agree with Sam. While you and your boyfriend were busy making cookies and brownies with cool Halloween design frostings, Dean was ready to binge watch all the Halloween classics. Cas and Jack had joined him- the nephilim was curious and wanted to see the movies and the angel was happy spending time with them.

You and Sam had joined them for one movie, you quickly dragging Sam off for him to join you in your walk around the neighborhood.

"You sure you want to leave? I can stop with the complaining-"

You fake a yawn, and shake your head, pouting slightly as you look at him. "No, I'm just tired." You peck his lips. "Let's go home."

~~

You weren’t tired. Ever since you had heard why Sam didn’t like Halloween, you felt like it was your job to somehow turn that around and with an entire day that felt quite magical already, you were ready to spice it up slightly. Sam was already one to not want to make a big deal of things but having dated for about a year and the relationship going really great, you knew you owed it to him.

Looking at the fitted red dress that you were wearing, you sigh slightly. It was the only costume left in the local supermarket (well not the only one but the others were way too inappropriate) and was expensive. But now looking at yourself in the mirror and feeling the fabric- it was sure worth it. But it wasn't a complete costume without the red horns that were on your bed. It was way too inappropriate to be dressed as the Devil so you chose to not wear the headband.

Checking yourself out in the mirror and making final touches to your makeup, you nod your head and turn around to find your sandals.

Just then, someone knocks on your door and you turn, stopping mid-stride.

"Y/n?"

Sam? Shit, you were going to surprise him in his room.

You stayed in his room most nights and most of your stuff was there- you only came here for alone time or to grab something else.

You had given him an excuse that you would get changed into a hoodie you had left behind and meet him to watch a movie together. You had a speech prepared and you had the surprise entirely planned out.

"Y/n?" Sam asks again and the handle twists.

"I'm here, I'm here! Don't open the door!" You exclaim without thinking and look around the room. You spot your red heels at the foot of your bed and you quickly jog to them and put them on. If Sam was already here, you ought to be completely ready.

"Are you fine? What's wrong?" He asks, his voice laced in worry but thankfully the door doesn't open.

"Nothing's wrong," you huff, blowing your hair out of your face. "I just-" you turn to clean your bed "-wasn't ready." Quickly pushing the horns and other clothes into your bedside drawer, you jump onto the bed and try your best to lay in a sexy pose, though with your deep breathes and slightly messed up hair, you were already convinced you had messed things up.

You were lying down on your elbows, your body angled towards the door. One of your legs was hanging off and the other was precariously on the bed, showing off the strappy red heels you'd put on. "Okay," you say, trying to slow down your breathing, "you can come in now."

The door pushes open and Sam walks in wearing a suit. His jaw immediately falls open when he sees you on the bed.

"Y/n-"

"Why are you wearing a suit?" You ask, frowning a bit. Sam takes a step forward, his eyes raking your form before he opens his mouth and closes it. He looks in the hallway before shutting the door, his bewildered expression not wearing off.

"I-" he starts off and shuts his eyes, shaking his head "-I thought we were going to watch one movie."

"No, I wanted to surprise you!" You chuckle, your nerves seriously not helping. Was he angry or something? You really didn't plan for this. "Get your mind off your humiliation," you add in, chuckling nervously.

"Oh," he whispers softly and stands there for a moment before pulling his suit jacket off hurriedly, struggling a bit and walking to the bed quickly.

You chuckle as he struggles to remove his tie and climbs over you, pressing his lips onto yours.

"Sam-" you giggle between the kisses he was showering you with. "What- why are you in a suit?"

The Winchester draws back and looks down at you, his lips already kiss-swollen. "I tried to dress up like Michael," he whispers, his breath fanning over your face.

"Scott?" You ask, a smile creeping onto your face.

"Yeah. The Michael to your Dwight."

"You're supposed to be my Angela."

"Well, I wasn't going to put on a skirt."

"You could have been beets. Or-" you're cut off with another kiss.

"You're gonna start rambling again," Sam whispers again and you feel the blood rushing to your cheeks.

"Sorry," you chuckle and look into Sam's eyes. Your breath catches slightly when you notice his blown out pupils. "You like this dress, huh?"

Sam pecks your lip before speaking in a dangerously low voice. "Well, if wanting to tear it off your body counts as liking the dress then sure."

You chuckle and cup his cheeks, smiling softly at him. "You look good in a suit."

He kisses you again, harder than before and you sigh slightly. He takes it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth to deepen the kiss.

You wrap your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer as his hands grip your waist in a bruising hold.

You smile into the kiss. You were definitely going to make new memories tonight.

[peacefulrestvalley]

A Terrible Idea

Fandom: Shall We Date? Love Tangle

Summary:  

Four knocks on the door to the captain's quarters was all the warning he had before Rami loudly shouted from the other side, "HEY CORNELIUS, OPEN UP!" and then kicked the door once.

Rami and Cornelius share a drink one night aboard the Starling Kaleido where many things are said, but nothing is as important as what is left unsaid.

Notes:  Inspired by Cornelius's Vicious story in the spin-off Personalities as well as @northernscruffycat's commentary on Rami and Cornelius's main routes because, believe it or not, I would not have put the two together without reading both of these. This piece can be implied to have occurred in the Vicious Personality timeline before the Starling Kaleido docks and he narrowly avoids being shanked by MC (who is referred to in this story as her default name, Julia Darwin).

Four knocks on the door to the captain's quarters was all the warning he had before Rami loudly shouted from the other side, "HEY CORNELIUS, OPEN UP!" and then kicked the door once.

Unlike a certain someone, Cornelius had been actually working even as late in the night as it was, busy checking weather reports and comparing them to the Starling Kaleido's course one more time before heading off to sleep.  However, Rami's hopeful intrusion had him lunging toward the door in a mad race to put an end to the loud voice that could, and most certainly would, draw the attention of a guest out for a midnight stroll - or worse, a staff member.  He swung the door open with surprising force and came face to face with Rami holding up two glasses and an unbearably bright grin.

"Hey, yo-"

"Get inside!"

Cornelius pulled him by the arm into his quarters and then shut the door behind them in a decidedly more delicate manner than how it was opened.  "Honestly," he began what Rami knew would be a tirade out of embarrassment, "you could have done anything else in the world to get my attention but that.  You know your pounding and hollering is going to draw attention, and especially so late at night you know it's going to be the wrong type of attention.  You kn--"

"But would I have gotten your attention?" Rami interrupted with his grin still plastered on as he set the glasses down on a table and began to rummage through what he knew to be the liquor cabinet.  To Cornelius's disbelief, he brought out a bottle of vodka immediately and continued to search.

The answer was no, and Cornelius knew they both were aware of it so he decided to drop the subject.  Instead, he remarked, "Did you really bring your own drinkware?  Surely you know I have my own you can use..."

"No, no, look at them," Rami responded, eyes still scanning the cabinet.  He seemed to be weighing his options.  "Hey, you got any juice?"

"There's orange juice...and I believe some cranberry juice left as well."

Rami laughed as the information delighted him.  "You drinking on the waters after all?  Nobody drinks cranberry juice alone without alcohol."

Rolling his eyes, Cornelius returned as he moved to inspect the glasses, "No, it's been leftover since the last time you had one of your...visits."

"Oh," he said as he paused with a bottle of peach schnapps in hand, "oh yeah!"  He set it on the table with the vodka and glasses.  "Man, I hope it's not expired..."

"I haven't looked."  It was a dry acknowledgment as if he hadn't cared at all, though that wasn't the case.  No, if Cornelius genuinely hadn't cared it's doubtful he would have recalled it in the first place.  "Look," he continued, "I know you want to drink, but I've got an early morning tomorrow with a busy day, and--"

Rami's interruption came as he went to the small kitchen and brought out both juices, "You're always busy.  ...Did you look at the glasses?  I got them at the last port of call.  There's one for me and one for you.  Choose whichever one is your favorite."

"Really..."  Both glasses were rather kitschy and borderline obscene so he picked up the least offensive of the two, a highball glass with a regional slogan and pair of scantily covered breasts on one side.  "I suppose this one.  If anyone peeks inside my cupboard I can at least laugh it off."

"You don't like the prescription one that implies you're an alcoholic?"

Once again, and certainly not for the last time that night, Cornelius rolled his eyes.  "Not in the least bit."

"Well, I thought it was funny."

"You're also a terrible person."

He wasn't, but Rami laughed all the same.  "Anyway," he implored, "just have one drink with me.  I know you've got an early morning but one drink won't kill ya.  It'll get you to sleep faster.  See, I'm saving you, I'm--"

"One," he cut off, emphasizing his self-imposed rule.  "So, what are you making?"

"Sex on the Beach."

"You know that's a terrible idea."

And Rami laughed hard enough that Cornelius feared the engineer or someone would overhear.  It was a laugh that wouldn't nearly have been as funny if it weren't for prior experience.  "A...terribly delicious idea," he finally spat out.

Once again, the captain rolled his eyes and suppressed a laugh that otherwise may have been difficult to contain.  Composure was a hard thing to come by at times but damn if he didn't try.

He didn't say anything but Rami went right to work with a shaker and practiced motions.  Both cranberry and orange juice were doled out in equal parts and presented in both boobs and pill glasses for their enjoyment, and Rami took the initiative and held out his glass for Cornelius to clink against in a toast: "To never having sex on the beach again."

"...What?" was his response accompanied by a laugh while Rami downed half his cocktail at once.  Of course, Cornelius would be slower with his, choosing to savor the concoction as it was the only one he would have, and took a sip to appraise the adventurer's work.  "Mm, not bad.  Definitely better than the real thing."  He raised an eyebrow, though, when Rami polluted his with a bit more vodka.

For once it was Rami's turn to roll his eyes but neither of them spoke about it.  Instead, he sat down leisurely and kicked up his feet onto the large dining table, precisely because he knew how much it irritated his companion, and gave a large, satisfied sigh: "This is the life, isn't it?"  

It wasn't, and both of them knew it, but once again it would be one of the many things between them that were left unsaid.

"You act as if you don't have an upcoming lecture."

"Well, it's not now," Rami retorted, waving his hand in an exaggerated motion. "I mean, it's not even tomorrow!  You're too serious."

"On the ship?  Yes, of course, I am.  I have to be," came Cornelius's dull response, as if it was a standard reply to a common complaint between the two - which it was.

Rami immediately went into a double finger gun gesture and teased suggestively, "But Cornelius on land...  I mean work hard, play hard, am I right?"

"...Not anymore, I suppose."  In a certain sense, it was true for many reasons, but when Rami's expression fell he added, "Just because all my time on land is devoted to her."

"That's still playing hard! Don't make it sound like you're miserable ashore."

"Sorry, that wasn't my intention. It's bliss, honestly."

As Rami finished his glass and went to work on fixing himself another, he blurted seemingly out of the blue as if it was naturally the right time and level of mutual inebriation for such a thing: 

"So...you gonna marry her?"

Cornelius paused briefly but answered in the same intonation as talking about the weather, "Probably."

Immediately Rami set a bottle down on the table louder than it needed to be and shook the shakers more robustly this time.  "Probably?  ...Cornelius, she is the best damn thing to ever happen to you, and if your life with her isn't kittens and rainbows then I will marry her and be happy instead!"  

It was a strange threat but Cornelius only looked at his glass, half-empty with sex on the beach as its only memory.  "You're reading too much into things," he began and tried to hide how desperately he wanted Rami off his back for this topic; one drink just wasn't enough for that.  "I love her so much, but it's been a long day - and tomorrow's going to be longer.  Honestly, I'm thinking about the ship and my passengers right now, not the ring I want you to help me design for her..."

This was the first Rami had heard of this obvious distraction, but he nodded because that was respectable.  It was understandable.  Also, he was included.  Rami stuck his index finger out at the captain before he polished off half his second cocktail and prophesied, "...And she's gonna fucking love it."  

He may or may not have pre-gamed coming to the captain's quarters.

Cornelius knew which it was.

"So," Rami began as he sat comfortably back down, "how is Julia?  How are the animals?  Her job?  Her life?  You know, I text her these things to get a conversation going and all she answers is fine."

Cornelius definitely knew which it was.  

"Honestly, she thinks her life pales in comparison to your adventures, so that may be where your lukewarm responses stem from with her."

He pointed his finger repeatedly but had no response because the finger had done all the talking - he knew it, he was just so damn remarkable and was certainly not being edged out of wonderful friendship with Cornelius's partner.  

Rami finished his drink once again with a certain finality: he was distracted; he was placated; it was done - until he was sober, that is, and wrapped up planning his lecture when the tide would have room to wash back in with its evidence of other lives lived.  He certainly wasn't looking forward to that, the anxious thoughts and energy with little constructive outlet until the next adventure at a port of call.  Without the many planned activities aboard the ship, there would be little holding him back from jumping off and taking his chances in the ocean; at least the danger would be fun, very much unlike this quiet, subtle sense of hazard they faced together.

Even though the captain successfully bottled up all his tension to the point where most people would mistake that it wasn't even there, Rami wasn't most people.  He watched Cornelius finish his cocktail in appreciative silence but saw past the seemingly relaxed composure and knew it for what it was - restraint.  

...But of course, they both had their ways of releasing the pressure.

"Hey," Rami spoke up again, "you make a drink this time."

"No seriously, just one drink was more than enough.  As I said, I've got an early morning ahead of me tomorrow, and--"

"--I'm not talking about for you," he interrupted. "I mean for me!"

Despite his objections as a captain, he knew that if Rami wanted another drink then he was going to get another drink regardless of what anyone else said, so he didn't waste much time weighing whether or not he should oblige his request.  "Hmm, I only know vodka tonic..."

Instantly Rami shot it down.  "Boring."

"...Well, what if I made a new drink for you?"

"A brand-new, never-before-seen Captain Cruz cocktail for me?" he exclaimed, and Captain Cruz wasn't sure if he was poking fun at his expense or not. "...DEAL!" 

Cornelius didn't know the full terms or conditions, but a deal was a deal and he started to mull over his options in the liquor cabinet.  Of course, he wouldn't lose to Rami's practiced taste even if he had no idea how to go about doing so, and the pleasantly warm sensation of alcohol did nothing to hinder his competitive confidence.  "Let's see," he thought aloud, "we just had Sex on the Beach, so..."

"Sex on the Boat?"

Cornelius paused because while he was certain that Rami was joking, he was uncertain that it wasn't a real thing.  "Is that even in here?" he asked and handed him a bartender's recipe book.

"Hold on, let me check," Rami responded and began to leaf through the pages.

"Look for something with vodka if it's not," Cornelius instructed as he set out a few liqueurs as options before digging back into the cabinet. "I don't want you getting sicker than you're already going to be tomorrow just because you switched liquors."

It was a suggestion based on experience but of course, Rami ignored all that.  "Hey, there's one called Buttery Nipple..."

"Let me see the recipe," he commanded and grabbed the book for himself but then Rami batted it out of his hands to the floor, stepping on it for good effect.

"That's cheating."

"Well, what was in it?"

"...Nipples."

The subsequent eye-roll was almost audible.  "And, let me guess, butter?"

"You know that's a terrible idea."

"You're a terrible idea."

Rami laughed aloud, enjoying the sound of Cornelius's stifled snicker and the clinks the bottles made when he put most of them back into the liquor cabinet as if he had been struck with inspiration.  

"You've come up with something," he noted dryly.

"I have," he agreed with equal parts dryness.

While watching Cornelius pour, shake, and strain whatever cocktail he was making for him, Rami struggled to keep up and identify if this was actually based on a real drink or if he was just putting whatever the hell he thought of in there and using him as a guinea pig.  Either way, he was curious and shot the captain an eager grin as soon as he slid the finished concoction over.

"Voila, the Captain's Special."

"How original," Rami remarked and swirled the drink vaguely around after taking a sniff.  It seemed all right, and he didn't identify anything particularly strange while he watched him make it, but he also knew that it was amateur hour over in the captain's quarters that night, special or no special.  "No name like Bottom Deck or I'm Gonna Throw You Overboard Rami?"

"I'd need a salted cream for that last one so maybe next time," Cornelius responded wryly as he cracked a smile.  "Now are you going to drink up or what?"

Rami's eyes twinkled as he swung his arm away in an exaggerated gesture and said, "Now did I hear that right?  Our fearless leader, the ordinarily extraordinary Captain Cruz, is-"  His hand knocked into Cornelius's empty glass but did little else but send it sailing an inch away. "-encouraging me, the ruggedly handsome and dashing explorer, to drink MORE?  As in-"

"I can send you back to your cabin and pour this down the drain, you know."

"-MORE than this incredibly good-looking traverser of the lands and sea has already--"

Cornelius grabbed Rami's errant hand before it knocked into anything else and commanded, "Oh just drink already!"  He pushed the hand with the cocktail close to Rami's face before both of them laughed, a small spill being a minor casualty.

Finally, he drank that damn drink, draining it about halfway before pausing with a pensive expression.  If he minded that Cornelius's hand still laid atop his on the table then he didn't show it.

"Well?" Cornelius prompted as he gave a slight squeeze, clearly anticipating a review on his spontaneous creation.  

Rami took a few appreciative seconds before asking vaguely, "You seriously just made this up and haven't tried it yourself?"

"What does that mean?  Of course I did." He was impatient. "Do you like it or not?"

"Try it."

Cornelius shook his head.  "No, I'm done drinking for the night.  This one was all for you."

"All for me," he mused and ran his thumb alongside Cornelius's finger.  At this stage of things, neither of them minded the contact, but it was always a question of how much pressure Rami needed to apply for the restraints to loosen further.  "You know, once I finish this you'll have never known how it tasted - a fleeting moment of history, forever gone..."

"I'm fine with that," Cornelius answered, "as long as you tell me what you think."

There was a beat of silence in which Rami decidedly did not tell him what he thought.

"So it's good, bad...?"

He downed the rest of the drink and declared as he set the drink down on the table with finality, "Gone."

Cornelius's eyes narrowed in response and he attempted his best intimidating and interrogative stare.

While it worked on everyone else aboard the ship, Rami just brought his free palm up and shrugged in a manner specifically designed to be as grating as possible.

Whatever additional chip he added to break open the crack in Cornelius's walls this time had worked: in a sudden and almost violent manner, Cornelius grabbed the front of Rami's shirt with his free hand and crushed his lips against his, pressing his tongue to part through without preamble.

Rami went with it as a rudderless boat rolled with the waves, carrying itself further out on the sea's whim.  That is to say, he parted his mouth and let Cornelius's tongue slide in to gather as much as he desired.  Their fingers intertwined and Rami freed a soft moan, thankful he didn't have to wonder how much longer he had to prod anymore to transition to this eventual part of the night.

It was an intense but not particularly long kiss as the captain did part from those adventuring lips, although keeping in a breath's vicinity.  "...Not bad," he concluded, watching Rami gaze at his lips with some measure of satisfaction as he touched his jaw tenderly.  "Not bad if I say so myself."

Rami gave an impish grunt in disagreement and added, "You can do better."

"Then let me do that tonight."

"You mean let me do you?"

When they would later finish acting out the unspoken feelings between them and Rami would unsuccessfully attempt to sweet-talk his way into staying 'til dawn, it would be the last time Cornelius rolled his eyes that night.  But until then, Cornelius gave one more eye roll and answered with another passionate, unrestrained kiss.

...If only just to shut him up.

[cassiedangerclouds]

Everything Is Green {Krii7y}

DeviantArt: SugarHigh100 (Smii7y)

Twitter: Beaudicea (Kryoz)

~

Trigger Warning!: In this story, I will write about colour blindness. Sorry if I do not get it correct as I myself do not suffer from anything of the sort (I am mildly longsighted). If this may offend you, please don't read. And I would really love to hear from some colour blind people on how I can fix my perception of it up in case I write this type of thing again.

Remember that this is MY interpretation of colour blindness (Protanomaly and Tritanopia), this is how I understood what I read from my research. So please don't take it personally if I get it completely wrong.

In this story, there will also be:

Anxiety Attacks –Based off of the ones I get. Because everyone experiences these differently-

Bullying (mentioned)

Swearing

Self-Deprecating Tendencies

~

Life gets pretty boring when all you see if various shades of green, grey and if you're lucky, violet.

But not the pretty, dark violet everyone else sees. No, it's a dull, kind of light version.

That's just life when your parents are Red-Green and Blue-Yellow colour blind and you pull the short straw on both ends.

No, I couldn't just have one; like not perceiving reds or greens properly. Or maybe become a very rare case and not be able to see blues properly.

No.

I ended up Red-Green in one eye and Blue-Yellow in the other.

So my world is full of dull, warped greens, boring and monotonous blacks and whites, only light grey and maybe, if luck wants to grace me, with violet. I strive for the moments that slightly purply-blue colour pops, I try to capture every detail of the moment so that I can try recreate it.

My parents try to tell me that when I'm older, my eyes may get better.

But I know that they won't.

Magic doesn't exist. If you're born with these things, you live with them forever.

People get weirded out by me. I confuse them. So I learnt to keep to myself. I sit under the trees, on the grass, things that should be blindingly green and are but just a dull blue really.

I got told that my glasses would help me see colours properly, but the kids all picked on me, so I don't wear them anymore.

The glasses were pretty cool I guess, I mean they were blue and red, and the world looked amazing back in fifth grade for the month that I wore them.

It's been five years since I've worn them though, I figured that, if I was picked on in fifth grade, high school would be no saving grace. So they sit in draw at home, collecting dust.

I guess life isn't too bad, I mean, at least I'm not blind. But this is no better.

"Hey. Hey. Can you hear me?" I kept my head down, knowing exactly who it was.

"I asked you a question."

I looked up, not too much, just enough to see if it was who I thought it was, "Yeah. I guess. I'm not deaf." I said, tapping my fingers against the ground.

"I'm not here to pick on you kid. I'm not an arsehole. My friends and I saw you sitting by yourself and I wanted to know if you wanted some company."

This time he caught my full attention, "Like for real? This isn't some big joke that Evan and all that set up to give me hope?" I asked.

He laughed, "Nah dude, honestly, Evan and his friends are a little overrated." He said, "With the exception of like Ryan. Oh and Craig, he hangs out with us sometimes."

I smiled, "I mean, sure. I guess that I could come and sit with you guys." I said.

"Sick." He said, helping me up.

He led me over to a table, not far from where I was sitting, I noticed him stumbling a little.

"Hey fuckers. I'm back." He announced.

"No one gives a fuck John." One of the other males at the table replied, looking up from his phone.

"Fuck you to, bitch." John replied.

"So guys, this is...uh I never asked your name, did I?" John asked.

"Good goin' John. You see a lonely kid, invite him over, but don't even ask his name." another said, this one was for sure in grey.

I snickered a little, looking over the group, of course, looking at everyone wasn't going to help me tell them apart, but it was worth a shot.

"HEY! That sounded a lot better in my head." The grey one stated.

"So, what's your name stranger?" one of the guys closest to me asked.

Come on, just say Jaren. "Lukas." I answer. What the fuck did I say that for?

"Well Lukas. As you could figure out, I'm John. In order around the table from my left. Cameron, Ryan, Craig, Anthony and...where did Crystal go?" John asked for a person I guess was here before he came over to me.

Crazy hair, grey guy, glasses, panda case. I recited in my head, it was the only way I'd actually remember them.

"Brock's nut of a sister came over and requested that her friend join her for a conversation." Anthony, I think, answered.

I frowned, "Cassidy isn't too crazy." I stated, causing everyone to stare at me.

"What. She used to be my..." I trailed off, "Never mind. Why did you invite me over here. I'm just the weird kid."

"We're all weird here." Cameron said, completely ignoring my slip up or at least I hope he did.

"I mean. Probably not. At least compared to me. Nobody is as mutant as I am."  I stated, looking down.

"What. Why? Because your eyes are different a little off centre or your hair is white? Every time I saw you, I always thought you just bleached it, like John does with his." Craig said with a shrug.

I sighed, shaking my head, "Okay. Don't like freak or anything okay John. But like, that jumper you're wearing is probably rad. But it's like literally all green, different shades. But to me. That whole thing is green, except the white bits near your wrists." I always found it was an easy way to explain my problem to people by talking about something that probably wasn't green and trying to tell them that's how I see it. "I can imagine and sort of figure out the colours, because I've done it for so long-"

"What shades of green?" John asked.

I shrugged, "The top is like a lime kind of colour. So it's probably like yellow or somet'in'. Uh, the middle is a dull green. So that's like red or orange, I don't remember because I don't see those colours a lot. The top of the sleeves is like, mint ice cream green. So they're some type of blue." I explained, hoping I got the colours close.

"That's so cool dude." John said.

"How do you live like that? Not being able to see colours. Only green?" Craig asked.

"Well. I mainly see the green spectrum, but I can see light grey, black, white and sometimes, violet. But it's like not the cool dark violet colour, it's more like what I think you would see as a cross between magenta maybe and periwinkle. I can see some shades of yellow, kind of. Most colours appear as greens though." I explained, tapping my fingers against my leg.

"Well, sit down you weird ass human." Cameron said.

I smiled, shaking my head, "Sorry. This was a nice..experience, but I'm just gonna leave." I said, turning around, I walked back towards where I was.

Suddenly I was on the ground, noticeably colder than before.

I looked up and saw my jumper in John's hands.

"Hey, fuck you. Give me my jumper back, it's cold." I demanded, getting off my arse, snatching my jumper out of his hands, slipping it over my head.

"It's a mild fifteen degrees, it's not that cold." Cameron stated.

"Shut up, you Kiwi fuck. We get it that it's fucking freezing in New Zealand." A feminine voice said from behind me.

Cameron pouted, "Piss off you Aussie bitch." He stated.

"Oh, and this is Crystal. Crystal, this is –"

"Hey Luke." Crystal said with a shrug.

"Vibe." I returned, watching as they walked over and sat between Cameron and Ryan.

"Wait- you two know each oth-"

"Whatever, reunions are boring. What did the nut want with you, aye?" Cameron asked, nudging Crystal's shoulder.

Crystal shrugged, "Never say that again. Worst Australian accent ever. Come on Fitzy, you're the closest one to where I'm from and you can't even fake a believable accent." They said.

The group started to banter, giving me the perfect chance to slip away.

I kept walking, not really knowing where I was going, I just knew I had to get away from that group before something bad happened to them because of me.

"Hey. Hey! Lukas, wait up." I heard a call from behind me, recognising John's voice, I picked up my pace, not watching where I was going.

Once more I was on the ground and I noticed that it was because I had bumped into someone. I stood up, "I'm so sorry. I-" my breath hitched.

In front of me stood well known school menace and Evan's right hand man Jonathan.

"I-I'm so so sorry. Uh, Delirious." I said, I could feel myself shaking.

Delirious turned to face me, and I could feel my lungs get heavy.

"Dude. Are you okay?" he asked me, sending me into surprise.

"What?" I managed to squeak out.

"I asked if you were okay? You hit me pretty hard and fell to the floor." Delirious said.

I shrugged, "I'm uh. Fine. Just yeah. Sorry." I stammered, my breathing starting to even out.

"Lukas, why are you-" I heard John stop dead, his boots squeaking as he skidded on the hallway floor. "Fuck."

"Well, if you're okay. Then I'm just gonna walk away." Delirious said, walking away.

I was still shaking, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight.

"Dude, are you okay?" I heard John was near me now.

But I still didn't open my eyes, I shakily pointed at my bag, "Pap- Pap- Bag" I started coughing.

"Pap Bag. Pap. Paper Bag! Oh, get the paper out of your bag!" John figured out, quickly flipping the latch on my bag and handing me the almost empty bag.

"I don't understand how this will help you." John said.

I cupped my hand around the opening, placing it near my mouth, breathing in and out into the bag.

My breathing went back to normal after five minutes and the coughing stopped.

I moved it away and drew in a deep breath.

"What the fuck was that?" John asked, making me painfully aware that he was still there.

I opened my eyes to see him standing in front of me, "That was an anxiety attack you fucking idiot. Holy shit. I could've-no-probably would've passed out if you hadn't have helped me. Jesus, I haven't had one that bad in a while." I stated, half talking to myself.

"Your welcome. I mean, I don't know how to respond." John said.

I smiled, "Thank you. But seriously. I thought that Jonathan was a bully. He didn't even threaten me. I think a lot of people just spread rumours and one rumour made it out and became popular saying that the BBS are bullies. They're probably just a bunch of misunderstood kids. I- I'm sorry for walking off." I said.

"Nah dude. My friends can be a little much sometimes, even for me." He said.

"Oh. Okay. Well, I'm still sorry. It was a good thing you did you know, asking me to join you guys. Your friends don't seem to bad. I'd probably fit in with you all. I feel like a big dou-"

I felt something warm against my lips for a split second and then it was gone.

"You talk too much." John stated.

My face started heating up, "What the fuck? We haven't even known each other for a day. John you're fucking weird," I stated, pulling my sleeve over my hand, wiping my mouth.

He laughed, "You enjoyed it. Don't deny it." He said.

Maybe I did. It doesn't matter, I don't even know the guy. "No I didn't." I retorted, but I knew my body language said otherwise.

"You're a bad lyre Lukas. You're red as a firetruck." He teased.

"Shut up you fucking prick." I muttered.

He rolled his eyes, "Come on. Come and hang out with me and my band of Misfits." He said.

I sighed, "Fine." I said and we walked back towards his friends, maybe a bit closer than previously.

But seriously, who the fuck kisses someone they just met? Like what even is that?

"Someone who has a set." John replied.

"Fuck. I said that out loud. Sorry." I said.

He stopped and turned to face me, "Stop fucking apologising. You've done nothing wrong." He said.

And that's when I noticed one small thing, well not really small thing, but it was something that would this was a moment I'd never forget.

~

Everything is green.

But his hair is my favourite colour.

Because it is violet.

~

Authors Note:

Hi guys!

Yes, I am a weirdo. I would've made it John's eyes, except that in this case it wouldn't work because John's eyes are blue and for them to be violet, they'd have to be yellow. Which just isn't realistic.

Anyway, that's it.