#i might scream when u yank me 2 my feet >~<< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[depravitydotexe]

you know what? since you want to be used and abused so much maybe one day i’ll slip just a little too much of something special into the tea i make you every morning. maybe i’ll hand it to you with a little extra urgency, making sure i watch you finish every last drop. you’ll start to feel funny and floaty and dumb and at first you’ll just assume you’re falling into littlespace until your head starts to swim. you might wonder why you can barely move and why i’m positioning your arms behind your back and tying them tightly together. but hey, you’re such a good posable doll right? that’s what matters right? and the next thing you know you’ll find yourself lying on the forest floor well out of the city we live in. of course i went out of the way for this, i wanted to make sure nobody could hear you for miles. just as you start to move your limp, weak body again i’m on top of you pushing you back down into the dirt. you struggle, pathetically, as i slowly draw the tip of a utility knife down your cheek leaving a trail of blood flowing down your face and onto your neck. you start to whimper, thinking i’m about to end your stupid little life right then but you’re surprised when you feel me cutting the ropes around your wrists and ankles loose. i gather you up by your hair and before pushing you away, i growl into your ear.

“run.”

let’s see how fast you are, sweet doll.

aww daddy 😳😳🥺🥺 u wouldnt break me 2 hard out there, right?? ud wanna play more after we're done with tag, right master??? 😣😖 whatever lil dress u put me in that morning will get all shredded n snag on things n slow me down >~<

[giggly-squiggily]

HEADCANNONS TO DABBLES ARE OPEN??????

denji and beam switch

u remember the very long rant of beam hcs? THIS IS MY ✨✨TIME✨✨

not 1, not 3, BUT

2 TICKLE HEADCANNONS

BEAM TICKLES PPL THROUGH WALLS CUZ HES A SHARK AND HE IS BEST BOY

Denji is one of his victims BUT NOT FOR LONG AHAHHAH

He quickly changes the tides (haha get it tides? ocean? shark? ahaha)

and beam is pretty ticklish to scribbles, denji isn’t too experienced with tickling but he is merciless so…. 👀

KLJRJKLEJLRJKLERJK YESH! Slime you always have the best HCs! I adore Beam, so this was alot of fun! I've gotcha covered :D

“Where the hell did he go…?” Denji looked around the empty room, shaking his head. He swore he just saw Bean rush in here, giddy as a child as he yelled out taunting “Come find beeeeeam~”s.

Hide and seek turned out to be a lot more complicated than Denji realized.

“Did he climb out the window?” Eyeing the impossibly high opening, he sighed as he leaned against the nearest wall. Too much of a hassle- he’d have better luck hunting down Power and Princi.

“Gehehehehehhee~”

Was that…giggling? Denji blinked as he looked around the room. “Beam?” He called. So he didn’t go out the window. “Heh, gave yourself away, you little sh-”

Hands suddenly grabbed him, making him scream.

And then…

“AH! AHehahahahhahahahahha! Nohohohohoho, nohohohohohoho not thahahhahahat!” The chainsaw devil cackled, squirming this way and that as fingers danced along his ribs. “Beahahhahahm, thahhhahhahat’s chehehahahhahahating!”

“Hehehehehehe! Lord Chainsaw fell for Beam’s trap! Beam is pleeeeeaased!” The shark snickered in delight, hanging out the wall from behind Denji as he squeezed and pinched his ribcage. “Tickle tickle tickle, Lord Chainsaw!”

“Gheahhahahhahhaaha, nohohohohohohoho! Aheahhahaha, Beahahahhham! Fihihihine, is thahahahhat how you wahhahahanna plahhahahy?” Denji twisted around, grabbing Beam under the arms and yanking with all his might. “Coohohohme heheheheere!”

“EEH!” Beam squeaked when he hit the ground, Denji upon him. “Lord Chains-AHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAAH!”

“Aww, can’t handle what you dish out?” Denji cooed mockingly as he scribbled along the other devil’s bare skin. “See, this is what happens when you mess with Lord Chainsaw during Hide and Seek- you get wrecked!”

“AHEHAHAHHAHAHHAHA! NOHOOHOHOHO PLEHAHAHAHHSE! BEAHAHAHAM THIHIIHCKLY!” Beam arched with a squeal when Denji swept his hand up to pinch his fin, feet kicking against the cement floor like a drum. Seconds later the ground swallowed him up, leaving Denji sitting there alone.

“Ah, he escaped!” Denji looked behind him just as the window up high squeaked. “Get ready, Beam- I’m coming for you!”

Send me a headcanon and I'll write a dabble for it!

[kaylinlmao]

Can I redo the reader escaping that instead of only Robin in the store all of the yandere tbp boys are in the store and u run as fast as u can

Version 2

You were tied to a bed in a house somewhere. You didn't know where. But you did know who did this to you. Your best friends. You just didn't understand why. But were you gonna stick around and find out? Nope. You did exactly what your mom taught you. "Bend your thumb and then twist your wrists. Then the rope will soften and will break" she had told you. So you did it. And I worked!

But you should've known you can't escape them that easily. They knew you. But you knew them. You know their fighting techniques. You know what kind of manipulation they use. You know them. As you were walking down the halls, you were thinking hard. I mean, of course you knew that they all had a crush on you! But you didn't think they'd take it this far. This all happened after telling them that you were going on a date with a guy you met. This was the day after graduation.

You didn't know what today was. Just that you already had a dorm in the college you were going to. So you ran. So fast that you ran straight into Robin. You slid around his legs, pulling and knocking him off his feet. You kept running. When you came across Billy you grabbed his arm, twisted it, and pulled, spraining his wrist. He doesn't deal well with pain. Next was Bruce. Ah shit. Bruce had a baseball bat. But without that, he gets insecure. I grabbed the baseball bat, yanked it out of his hand, and brought it down on his leg. I felt bad for a second. I mean they were my best friends.

But a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do. I kept running. Finney. Oh jesus. He might be one of the hardest ones. But he needs a tool when hurting or killing someone. Here he just has his hands. So you made him use them. You guys went hand to hand until you decided you were wasting time. You kneed him right where the sun don't shine and bolted. Vance was standing right in front of the door. Now you knew where you were. You were in their hideout in the woods. They haven't let me come here in a while. Now I know why. They were getting it ready for me.

"Don't do this Doll." he said. "I don't know who you guys are anymore." "We're your best friends remember?" "No. No. You're not. None of you are my best friends anymore. The boys that were my best friends are gone. Replaced by this." I slid around him, grabbing his hair and yanking him back. "M'sorry." I said and ran out the door.

Five years later

I was walking on the street on my way to the grocery store when I saw 6 heads of hair that looked oddly familiar. It was 11:00 at night. The boys emerged from the shadows. "Boys?" "Hello, angel." Said Finney "Haven't seen you in ages, sugar." Billy added "Makes me a little mad that we haven't seen you in so long doll." Vance said. "I'm happy here. Just go home and leave me alone." "No can do, hermosa." I bolted and ran.as fast as I could screaming for help. But it was late and no one was outside.

Faster, faster, faster. Run, Y/N. Run. Run. Run. I felt myself fall so I rolled onto the grass to break my fall. I saw the boys very close behind me but Finney was the closest. He grabbed a syringe from his pocket and stabbed it into my neck. Then. Nothing.

[yes-hi-its-ur-mum]

so glad u watched Heartstopper (idk y u wouldn’t but still) cuz all my irl friends won’t watch it and I NEED to hear people very loud and borderline incoherent thoughts. Just rant on Heartstopper. Please

Hi so I realise you sent me this like a month ago or something, but it took me a while to write it out lmao

 You ask and you shall receive <33 Hope these are borderline incoherent enough for u :DDDD

There might be a few spoilers for the books if anyone hasn't read them!!

So I read the books a while ago and I was absolutely in love with them and then I heard the series was coming out and I was so fucking excited bro u have no clue. I was out of town when it came out and the second I got home I immediately watched it. I nearly cried like thirty times and half the time I was just kicking my feet in the air and giggling like a maniac.

When Nick came out to his mum I nearly cried because he was so nervous to tell her and I wanted to just wrap him up in a hug and I'm so glad she did. His entire journey of realising he was bisexual and coming to terms with it was weirdly personal to me and the scene where he was taking the "am i gay" quizzes made me cry. The look on his face when he was typing it up and the way he was so hesitant to even write the words, and then when he got his results the tears in his eyes I- just oh my goddjfjfjc. I love Kit (Nick's actor) sm because he managed to portray the panic and fear so well, when he was with his (douchebag) friends and his (amazing) mum. I literally cheered when he punched Harry in the face it was incredible. He should have thrown Ben in the trash, where he belongs, instead of just out the door. We stan bisexual himbos in this house and that is Exactly what Nick is I just skdjdjjdjfjf. He's so protective of Charlie but so respectful of him too and I love him so much oh my goddd 😭

Ok so I wrote like a giant paragraph on Charlie but apparently it didn't save to my drafts which is fuckin annoying. Anyway I just adore him and how soft he is and how even though he's soft he’s also a bitch and I love that for him. The entire time he was anywhere near Ben I wanted to yank him back by his collar and shove him behind me. Like he was just so happy because he thought someone liked him, but then he was just using him and grrjfkfkgkgkgk I want to rip him to shreds. Anyway idk if you've read the books yet but Charlie has a pretty shitty time with his mental health, so everytime I saw the way he reacted around food I screamed internally. Like even though I know it's going to happen, and if they make a second season I know it will probably be centred around that I'm just like, so not ready for it ahhh. The way he loves Nick I wanna cry he's head over heels. I saw something that said Charlie fell first but Nick fell harder and like so true. He's so ahhhdhdjgkkggkkhkhkkjkkjjkkjkgjgk. Yes 👍👍👍✨✨✨👍✨👍😭😭😭✨

TARA AND DARCY TARA AND DARCY TARA AND DARCY 😭😭😭 Darcy is Me istg. I am Darcy. I love her so much and she's so chaotic and ahhhhjfkfkf. Tara is so soft and I'm so sorry she has to put up with Darcy's shit but she still loves her so much and Darcy absolutely adores Tara and when they were in the music room and Tara was talking about how everyone was treating her differently after she came out even though she was the exact same person, i felt that in my soul. I love them so much and if they make season 2 I'm so excited for the Paris trip lmaoooo. Like Darcy getting super drunk is going to be so so funny. And Tara talking to Charlie when everyone else gets icecream I Will Cry.

Don’t get me started on Elle and Tao I love them so much (if anyone starts headcanoning Tao as anything other than straight I’m gonna throw hands). The mutual pining I just wanna slam their heads together /hj. Them not wanting to confess in case it ruins them is so valid but also c’mon. Just kiss or something 😭😭😭. Also the fact that Tao grew his hair out in solidarity assdlfssgkjgdjgd. That might be why the tips of his hair were curled weirdly? It’s too long for the dress code but no one can tell because he curled it?? Idk. They’re just so. ah. I’m tired and in love with them all and if they don’t get the happy ending they deserve I’m gonna cry.

Sorry for the multiple paragraphs! I still have more thoughts but this is going to have to do 😭😭 You asked for a rant and you got one. Lemme know if there’s any mistakes, I couldn’t be bothered proof-reading it. Thank u so much for the ask <3333 

[yamithediaperdork]

My little brothers revenge part 3

The next 2 weeks flew by after that, with the only strange thing being that Justin started to have A LOT of close call's with getting to the backroom on time and was leaving a ton of skid marks in his pants, and that Justin had also apparently seen the error in his ways and had asked to try and host a D&D session for Alex and his friends to make up for everything he'd done.

Naturally of course Alex wasn't sure about whether or not to trust Justin, but then the bully had gone out of his way to get permission from their parents for Alex to have all of his friends over while they were gone for the session to happen.

"I just think with how rough he's had it lately, he could use a treat, and it'll be a good bonding experience for us since he's kinda too small to play football with me and the guys." Justin had said, acting sheepish.

After that Alex had dialed back the amount of ex-lax he'd been sneaking into Justin's drink's since he felt just awful about trying to make Justin a diaper boy when he was being so nice.

Of course Ben warned him it could just be a trap and to keep up the treatment (and had asked for pictures of Alex next time he had a uh-oh accident as payment for his words of wisdom) But Alex choice to believe in Justin, a choice he would come to regret.

With their parents gone Saturday morning, most of the day was spent with Alex helping Justin go over the rules for the campaign in the morning, and then hanging out and playing with his friends in the afternoon while Justin went out to hang with Grizz and Rayne.

"Man, hard to believe that Justin is being such a cool guy." Lyle said and winced as they were walking back from the park, having played a game of touch football with some younger kids (and having gotten their butts kicked, which only confirmed Alex's belief he was NOT meant to play the damn game)

"areeee you sure he's on the up and up on this?" Kyle asked, rubbing at his arm where a 5 year old had punched him.

"What? Guys come on, it's the four of US vs. him if he tries anything. we can take him!" Alex said full of misplaced pride and swagger even as he had a slight limp.

"..you realize a group of five year olds just whooped us right?" Max asked, Pausing to spit out more dirt from when he'd been driven into the ground.

"Yeah but there was a equal number of them to us and they were all sneaky like ninjas." Alex said, waving a hand. "Sides, worse case go for the nuts. it's like the weak spot on the death star."

"You've been going to your mom's self defense class again haven't you?" Max asked and chuckled.

"...Maybe." Alex huffed.

"heh, just don't" Lyle started.

"Scream out 'he's got my purse!' this time." Kyle finished and the rest of the losers club laughed while Alex blushed and fumed.

"Guys it was ONE time, let it goooo!"

While the losers club was out and playing their little games, Justin and the boys were getting everything ready for the pampering.

as it turned out the old crib wasn't going to be big enough for even just one of the boys, while the old playpen might of fit two at most though it would be cramped.

Thankfully two solutions provided themselves in this, their darkest hour in the form of finding a old car seat of Justin's that looked big enough to MAYBE hold Alex, and a old high chair that would hold Max for sure.

"So..how are we going to hide ALL of this upstairs? I know Alex and his friends are dorks, but their not stupid." Grizz asked.

"Oh, what if we went and put like sheets over them, and tell them their ghosts!" Rayne suggested eagerly.

"...Rayne buddy why don't you go have a juice box." Justin said, patting the hulking boys back.

"Kay!"

as the muscle bound boy headed up to the fridge for some apple juice, Grizz and Justin exchanged looks.

"Man, he's our friend and everything, but Jesus.. does he eat paint chips or something?" Grizz asked.

"Go ahead and ask him, I'll go and get the bucket to mop you up after he creams you." Justin chuckled. "Ok ok..back to the problem at hand..We could Make get the high chair in the broom closet, and the playpen all folded up in the linen closet. Car seat, I dunno.."

"Yeahhh whole lotta time to waste between getting them pampered and getting them in they're seats." Grizz agreed then added with a blush.. "and I didn't go though all the humiliation of buying 4 packs of those discount diapers just for them to go to waste."

By now Rayne was coming back down the steps with his juice box and smiled and waved a hand.

"heh, Yes Rayne?" Justin asked, waiting for the stupid idea to come out.

"What if like, you have the playpen and stuff all set up down here but hidden behind some stuff and we just send up the gaming area down here. you can claim you wanna set a atmosphere for the game, capture the feeling of going though a dungeon." Rayne said and smiled big time.

"...H-U-H..Man Rayne, you need to drink apple juice more often!" Justin chuckled. "Good idea!"

"nah, then i get the poops." Rayne said but grinned big time.

"..Noted?" Grizz said/asked with a sweat drop.

It was after supper, and with bellies full of Pizza and root beet, the boys made they're way down the dusty (though not as dusty as before) basement, the twins semi hugging each other as the basement's lights only worked in two of the four areas, casting long scary shadows.

Max was mostly ok, though he could of sworn he'd seen something move out of the corner of his eye.

"Uh..Alex,Justin, you guys sure you don't have rats?" he asked, a twinge of worry in his voice.

"Oh yeah, we get checked regularly, Dad's TERRIFIED of them, it's why we can't go to Disney world." Alex said, laughing though he was getting a little bit creeped out being in the basement after dark.

still he wanted to try and support Justin who clearly was making a effort. plenty of large blankets had been rolled out onto the stone floor and a coffee table was set up in the middle, not on the blankets but they were bunched around it.

there were books and note pads and pencils and dice, all the great makings for a table top game and Alex turned to smile at his friends as they took in the site.

coming around the table and looking at the set up, the boys all whistled and Alex smirked at his friends under the pale light of the basement.

"See? I told you guys we could trust Justin!" he beamed.

"heh, Oh?" Justin asked.

"Yeah, the guys were kinda worried you were gonna pull something." Alex said, rubbing the back of his head. "Buttt I knew you were trying ..to.." Alex trailed off as he saw the look on his brothers face.

"Yeahhh about that, maybe listen to your friends next time." Justin advised.

"Whatever! It's four on one Justin, we CAN and WILL kick your butt!" Alex said, balling up his fists and looking over his shoulder to his friends.

The twins and Max nodded back and got ready to fight but Justin didn't look too concerned.

"oh no, Four little dorks who already got their butts kicked by five year olds and they're threatening me. what ever will I do. Oh woe is me." Justin said, putting the back of his hand to his forehead in a dramatic fashion then grinning and snapping his fingers. "Oh wait, I know..Grizz, Rayne, wanna help me get our soon to be slaves dressed and ready for they're new life's of cooking, cleaning and doing homework for us?" Justin said.

two shadows moved out from behind a pile of boxes and indeed there was Justin's buddy's.

"Oh, by the way, feel free to fight back, but anyone who does gets a spanking. if your GOOD little boys, we'll get you dressed with minimal fussing." Justin added.

Alex of course chose to fight, as did Max since he had to have his buddies back.

the two of them lunged at Justin going for a combo knee and groin attack but Justin caught Alex in the air and just hoisted him over his shoulder with Alex's head and arms over his back and yanked down Alex's pants with his free hand and started to slap the boys butt, getting howls of pain from him.

Max meanwhile had gotten his ankle grabbed by Rayne as he went to leap and was tugged back and put under Rayne's beefy arm and much like Alex, pants were yanked down and his butt was slapped, Max howling away as Rayne giggled and gave Justin a silly grin.

"it's like I'm playing the bongo's!" he giggled childishly.

Lyle and Kyle meanwhile had taken inventory of how sore they already were, how big and strong Justin and his friends were and had just stayed put, holding each other hands while Grizz looked down at them and smirked.

"heh, so your gonna be good boys?" Grizz asked.

Both twins nodded then jumped at the sounds coming from their friends.

"H-hey! stop that! They'll-" Lyle started, looking at Alex and Max who's buns where getting red even with their undies protecting them.

"-Be good boys like us! Come on, Please stop?" Kyle finished, wincing and fighting the urge to bury his face in his brothers shoulder.

"Hmm I dunno.. Alex, are you gonna be a good boy or make your widdle friends into liars?" Justin asked, pausing for a second.

Alex of course had been beating on Justin's back, for all the good it had done him and was now stood in front of Justin, tears running down his face and pants around his ankles.

Likewise, Max was set on his feet, though the tears weren't as free flowing and he gave a glare at the Twin's who suddenly found something VERY interesting to look at at the floor so they could avoid eye contract.

"Hey now, none of that Maxie, those two might of just gotten you out of the 5 minutes spanking we had planned." Justin said.

"F-Five Minutes?" Alex whimpered, and put a hand to his sore butt. it already hurt so much from just 30 seconds!!

"well give or take a bout 30 seconds." Justin said and smirked.

a hissing sound was heard and it didn't take a genius to figure out what it was, as Alex started to sob heavily as a puddle started to form under him where his accidents wasn't being soaked up by his pants.

"well, I'm gonna count that as a third vow to be a good boy..what do you say Max, wanna make it four for four?" Justin asked.

"Rot in hell! I'll never give in!" Max vowed.

Never as it turned out lasted all of anther 40 seconds then Max had a accident too. Following a quick clean up that would keep the boys from making puddles all the way up the stairs, Justin had Alex and Max take a quick bath together to both boys embarrassment, with Justin supervising to 'keep them out of trouble' while the Twin's mopped up the piddle accidents and got the wet clothes in the wash under the watchful eyes of Rayne and Grizz.

since the cat was out of the bag so to speak Rayne and Grizz had the twins help them bring the supplies for tonight's fun up into the living room, the urine smell in the basement being a big deciding factor.

The twins had a very good idea what was gonna happen as they carried the packs of diapers upstairs for the bullies, as well as a bag of dirty socks.

Well ok, the twins knew what the diapers and baby furniture was for, but the socks stumped them.

"Um..Mister Rayne?" Lyle asked, and held the bag up with one hand, the other being used to hold his nose.

"Hmm? me? Oh I'm just Rayne kiddo. what's up." Rayne said, confused at first but then smiling.

"I think I get most of what your planning, but why the stinky socks?" Lyle asked, looking over as Kyle was being a super good helper and getting the playpen set up, even though the look on his face made it clear he didn't wanna be helping at all.

"Oh the socks are for..are for.." And Rayne trailed off, and rubbed the back of his head, then turned to Grizz. "Hey Grizz, what are the socks for again?"

"We're gonna get the babies who aren't doing homework to wear them on both hands, one hand for the ones who are, and use about 3 socks per hand and tape for make shift baby mitts." Grizz called over.

"Ohhh yeahh..So that." Rayne said and smiled brightly.

"B-But why stinky socks? I don't wanna get athletes foot on my hands!" Lyle whined and whimpered.

"Oh! this part I do 'member! it's cuz you won't be tempted to try and tug'em off with your teeth after those socks have been on me and Justin's and Grizz's feet!" Rayne said, ever so proud of himself that he'd recalled that much.

"I..but..Ewwwww!" Lyle whined and started to cry.

"oh hey hey, look, it's just kinda fair if you think about it!" Rayne said, pulling the smaller boy into a hug.

"H-How so?" Lyle sniffled.

"well we're gonna hafa smell you guys when your blort your diapers. So see? it all works out!"

Somehow not only was this NOT a comfort for the twins, but started Kyle bawling too.

With Alex and Max washed nice and clean, they huffed and pouted as they were marched down stairs in just they're towels and were greeted to the site of of Lyle and Kyle (Aka mentally labeled the traitors in both boys minds) sitting side by side in Alex's old playpen wearing nothing but three pairs of dirty white socks on each hand that were taped up at the wrist with green masking tape and at least 4 pairs of white and pink diapers around their hips.

Finishing the look off as a bib around each twins hip, Lyle had Big bird on his while his brother was rocking cookie monster.

"Heh, nice touch with the bibs!" Justin commented. "I was gonna let them keep their shirts on."

"Well you know, I found a box of them in the basement and thought, why not?" Grizz said.

The twins had tear stains on their cheeks and Justin raised a eyebrow at that.

"Did they have to get spanked too?" He asked.

"Oh nah, just had a little sob feast. kinda shocked it didn't happen sooner. they ARE babies after all." Rayne giggled.

"So what do you have picked out for our two little naughty boys to wear?" Justin asked, chuckling and yanking the towels off of the younger boys who yelped and covered themselves despite the fact that A) they had both already seen everything B) so had Justin and C) they we gonna have to move their hands once they were diapered.

"Well I was thinking something retro, and classy at the same time." Grizz said, taking on a snobbish voice and making the other bullies smirk. "Something that screams 'I'm a big dumb baby slave, but at least I can do homework.' You know, a look for the ages."

"I see I see. Looks like you two little brainiac's get to do our homework while we supervise the good boys. And Don't even THINK of fucking it up. We'll be taking all SORTS of pictures of you dweebs in all your big baby glory and won't be shy about sharing it with your classmates." Justin chuckled and then pointed over to the changing mat's on the floor.

"J-Justin come on, do we HAVE to wear diapers?" Alex tried one last time.

"Alex I'm shocked, don't tell me you WANNA run around in the buff all night!" Justin said.

somehow the boy's blush got worse and along with Max he scrambled over to the changing mat's without further argument.

thickly diapered and one hand in the make shift baby mitts (Left hand for Alex and right hand for Max) and sporting Elmo themed for Max and Oscar the grouch for Alex, the last two of the loser's club was living up to it's name.

Max had been put in a old wooden high chair which even as small and shrimpy as he was was still a tight fit and had the bullies English and Social studies homework out in front of him.

Alex meanwhile had oddly easier been strapped into a old car seat and pulled up to the coffee table and handed the Math and science homework.

"Since when do you even get this much homework over one weekend?" Alex had asked, eyes going wide.

"Oh yeah, we asked for extra homework to make up for our falling grades. our teachers loved we were trying. So again. Don't make us look bad." Justin said and ruffled Alex's hair, making the huffy diapered shrimp squirm and try and get away.

"I can't believe I actually thought you were turning over a new leaf." Alex huffed and sulked.

"Honestly, neither could I, but you just wanted it to be true sooo bad~ Though I'm not without a degree of mercy." Justin chuckled and at that moment Grizz came in and set a baby bottle full of milk on Max's tray, then on in reach of Max.

Meanwhile the twins were being handed one each by Rayne and just took them with some difficulties in both hands and started to drink, they they wrinkled they're noses.

"heh, I guess the socks kinda keep you from fully enjoying the moo juice. Ah well, not my problem. I expect that ba-ba drained in a hour little man, I don't need you getting all dehydrated with all the crying and pissing you've been doing." Justin snickered and after handing Alex his ba-ba, walked away.

For a tiny split second Alex was tempted to grab the bottle and toss it at Justin, but then his common sense kicked in stead and he went to work, pausing every so often to drink the oddly sweet milk.

The twins tummies were starting to hurt as they chugged down they're milk but with the lack of room in the playpen and their stinky sock mitten's they weren't sure if they were gonna be able to pick the bottle back up if they put them down.

Since they had maybe already lost they're friends after betraying them before, they had silently agreed to just try and be the best big babies they could tonight since there was no point in getting a spanking now anyways.

"Sheesh, I guess that sob feast they had really dried them up. Careful little guys you're gonna give yourselves gas bubbles!" Rayne said, looking almost legitimately concerned.

"heh, don't tell me you're going soft on us man." Grizz teased, lightly elbowing Rayne side.

"Huh? no, I just don't wanna have to burp them and risk getting spit up on me."

"..You uh, Know their not REALLY babies right?" Justin asked after a second. "So I don't think that's gonna be a worry."

the mental image of being held in the bullies arms and being burped like a oversized baby wasn't exactly appealing to Kyle who slowed his chugging down but Lyle seemed to speed his up.

"..heh, I think one of them WANTS to be burped!" Grizz said.

Tugging his ba-ba out quick Lyle went to defend himself but in stead let out a massive belch that did kinda make his tummy feel better.

Kyle on the other hand took the other option when it came to gas relief as before anyone could say anything about the burp, a muffled long fart came out of Kyle's behind and the boys eyes went wide as saucers making it clear who had cut the cheese.

"Sheesh, couple of Gas holes over here." Justin laughed then wrinkled his nose, taking a step back. "Ugh, If his FARTS smell this bad.."

"yeahhh Maybe we shouldn't of put all that laxative powder in there." Rayne said, rubbing the back of his head.

With THAT announcement all four boys who had been taking a drink, Lyle having just put his bottle back up to his mouth dropped them and looked at the bullies.

"Rayne, they weren't suppose to know about that." Scolded Justin, then he grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"oh..uh sorry. How can I make it up to you?" Rayne said, while all four of the diapered losers club squirmed and whined in their baby prison's.

"Guess who gets to change all four stinkers himself?" Justin asked.

"Grizz? that's not fair he did- ...OH!...oh." Rayne started to argue, but then his face lit up as he got it, then fell as he got it.

Hearing about how the milk had been tainted, Alex grabbed his and was trying to pry the lid off to dump it out when Justin came over and shook his head.

"Ah ah ah, Bad baby brother! I guess you're gonna have to take a homework break so big brother can bottle feed you." Justin scolded, getting Alex out of the car seat and into his lap while Justin sat on the floor, pressing and rubbing the nipple on Alex's closed mouth.

"Open up little man, it's either you drink your special ba-ba and make 'present's for big brother or I get out the enema kit mom got for dad." Justin said.

Alex's eyes widen and he stared at his brothers face, wondering if Justin would really actually use that horrible looking thing on him..then recalling he was currently dressed like a big baby and opened his mouth.

"Good boy! Guess i could of just made you drink it on your own with that threat..eh, Your kinda cute like this. In a total loser big baby sorta way." Justin snickered.

Alex suckled down fast and hard, just wanting to get it over with and glared at Justin, willing himself to be able to make his asshole of a big brother end up crapping HIMSELF before Alex fudged his huggies.

As the cramps started to build in his tummy, Alex didn't think that was going to happen.

Seeing Alex being bottle fed by his brother and Grizz coming over Max gulped and gave a sheepish smile.

"I..Don't suppose you could just take the nipple off so i can chug this and get it over with huh?" He tried.

"heh, I suppose so. at least then I don't have to worry about burping the nerdy baby." Grizz said and started to unscrew the top. "But just so you know, if you try and just dump it out, I'll be tanning your ass for 5 minutes strait, then just giving you a enema."

Whether it was the threat itself, or the fact Max had loaded up on fluids on the way home he'd never be sure, but the poor boy gasped and whimpered as a hissing was heard and he soaked his diaper.

"Heh, We got our first wet diaper! Man, you must have a hair trigger bladder huh?" Grizz asked, and offered the opened ba-ba to Max. "Bottoms up soggy pants."

Whining softly but knowing he was stuck (in more ways then one with his diaper bloating out in the high chair) Max gave a week smile and drank as fast as he could.

The twins meanwhile had been given new instructions by Rayne who had decided if he was gonna have four sets of poopie diapers to change, he might as well get a cute site first.

The nicest of the three bullies (if only due to his lower IQ) he'd understood when Lyle and Kyle hadn't been abler to get they're ba-ba's picked up between the cramped space and the baby mitt and had picked up their bottle's and handed them to the other.

"Um..Rayne? I-I had more of my ba-ba gone." Kyle said meekly. "This is Lyle's."

"I Know, I want you to bottle feed each other, it'll look so cute!" he said and then with a big of shuffling around got them facing each other. "Your twin brothers so you're both close..So go on, help you brother drink up!" He encouraged them both.

Knowing better then to argue, the Twins shifted around and worked out how to get their arms out of the way of the other then both were drinking up, eyes closed and noses wrinkled from the smell of the socks, and the mini poots that were escaping almost constantly now as they were almost finished their ba-ba's.

As such with they're eyes closed they didn't see that Rayne had grabbed Justin's camera phone (After losing three cells of his own, Rayne wasn't trusted with one anymore.) and snapped a few pictures of the cuteness in front of him, and when they finished he fished them both out of the playpen and had them each put a head over one of his shoulders, apparently having gotten over his stance on burping them.

As they felt the big strong pats on their back and looked at each other over the simple giants shoulder, both twins wet their diapers at the same time but just like how they normally talked, one would burp then the other then the first one, back and forth till Rayne was sure he'd gotten all the gas bubbles out.

The twin's weren't sure how they felt about this, since Clearly Rayne was strong enough to support BOTH of them with just one hand making them feel even smaller then before, though it DID feel good to get all that gas out even if they're tummies were still cramping big time now.

"Feel better little guys?" Rayne asked, smirking.

Lyle started to nod while Kyle went to say something, but that was when the ba-ba's special ingredient kicked in. Both twins stiffened and little gasps came out of their mouths but that was nothing compared to the torrent of muck that poured out of their backside as the pink and white diapers rapidly expanded and even with the slits cut in them it was clear they were rapidly approaching a overflow point.

"Sheesh, that didn't take long." Grizz said, holding his nose.

"Oh man, their fucking toxic!" Justin complained.

between the sick sounding wet farts you could HEARD the diapers crackling as they fought to keep up but it wouldn't be till the diapers were fully loaded that they Twins would snap out of their shocked silence.

Rayne went to say something to comfort them but it was like a shrill alarm going off as both twin once again started wailing and crying, and Rayne winced, his own nose wrinkling.

"Uhh.. Can I just go and hose them off in the back yard?" He semi shouted, trying to be heard over the twins.

"Are you kidding? they'd alert the whole block as to whats going on!" Justin said, gagging a little. "Oh Man..I did NOT think this though..."

"Well what did you expect a dirty diaper was gonna smell like?" Alex huffed, though he was making grossed out faces too, plus knew that was his future."Sun shrine and rainbows?!"

"Also it's WAY too cold out to clean them up outside anyways Rayne, you'll make them sick."Max pointed out

"You two, shut up and get back to work. and Rayne..I know we were gonna make them sit in it but for the sake of everyone noses, change them now....and uh, take them to the basement to do it." Justin huffed.

Rayne nodded and off he went with the little stinkers and Grizz turned to Justin.

"Ahhh.. maybe we'll just use the pictures of them, but let them take dumps in the potty..I mean.. " he was saying, moving to go and open some windows.

"Ngggh, you might be onto something there." Justin said, then noticed Max and Alex exchanging looks and smirking. "..what's with the looks?"

"It seems to me, like the balance of power has shifted." Max said with a evil grin.

"Unless you WANT us unleashing hell in our diapers over and over again, you're gonna knock all of this off now, and hand over the pictures." Alex said smugly.

"Are you REALLY trying to threaten us with stinky diapers?" Grizz asked, half amused half in disbelief.

"If you thought the twin's were stinky they don't hold a candle up to Max, and Justin you know how bad I can be when I'm NOT loaded with ex-lax."

"..Mistakes have been made." Justin groaned, face palming.

"Are you kidding me?! I went though all that embarrassment and blew all that money on diapers and we're gonna cave in now?" Grizz huffed, looking pissed.

Max left out a poot and that fresh tears to the bullies eyes.

"Consider that a preview of whats to come." Max said and gave a evil laugh. "and tick tock guys.. us 'babies' can only hold it for sooo long~"

"Look Grizz, I'm sorry but unless you wanna be the one helping Rayne change diapers." Justin started to say, cut off by Rayne's cry of horror from the basement. "Then the plan failed."

"This is fucking bullshit!" Grizz huffed and then stormed out of the living room, grabbing his jacket.

"Grizz come on! wait!"

"No way man, screw you! I'm going home!" Grizz growled back and took off, slamming the door.

"...Well I hope your happy now!" Justin huffed at the big babies.

"Oh, we will be.. but first.. socks off and let us out of our baby prisons." Alex said, then smirked. "and don't worry, I have a feeling the diapers WON'T be going to waste."

For the first time since this little war had started, Justin felt a pang of worry.

In the aftermath, only the twins ended up messing their diapers and once Rayne found out the plan had fallen though he sulked and huffed and stormed off home too to do the extra class work that no one else was gonna do for him now.

The Pictures were turned over as promised and Justin figured Alex just deleted them, never suspecting that they were kept for blackmail power of a sort later on, and while no one else had a smelly diaper that night, all four boys kept wearing one just in case.

The twins were forgiven by Max and Alex after a bit, mostly due to how traumatized they seemed from having made such big stinkies and having to get cleaned up and had sucked on their thumbs when they weren't playing video games with Max and Alex, though they had conked out hard shortly after.

Justin, as the last bully standing, got the 'honor' of taking the shovel and going out to the trail to 'bury the treasure' and was less then happy when he came back and got told to go to bed and rest up, he was going to need it.

[kyber-kisses]

Attacked ( Dean x Reader )

Summary: When Dean and the reader leave to go on a supply run things don’t go exactly as planned when a few unfriendly faces decide to show up...

Warnings: Violence ( just the normal spn level stuff)

A/N: I literally just had a dream about this and I woke up and realized it would make a perfect Drabble. I hope you guys like it! ( also I had to write this on mobile so I’m sorry if it looks a bit odd)

One of the very last things you ever expected to be doing on a Friday night was going on a supply run for the bunker. If there were no cases Friday nights were strictly reserved for movie nights. Yet here you were, sliding into the next to Dean, surrounded by what could only be a few dozen grocery bags.

“ so why did you drag me along with you to go get groceries?” You questioned, fiddling with the unopened can of Pringle’s you had just bought.

“ Because y/n it’s my job to make you miserable.” A light smirk crosses his face as he stuck the key into the ignition.

“Haha very funny. . . You know if you had just- I don’t know, not lost at Rock Paper Scissors we would both be back at the bunker right now watching spy movies.” You shrugged, popping a Pringle into your mouth before handing the can over to Dean.

“ How does paper beat rock? How?” He grumbled as the two of you rolled out of the parking lot.

Beyond the tree line the sun was sinking below the horizon, and the last rays of sunlight leaked through the trees, lining them with a border of gold. The sky was already darkening to the east as the first few stars peaked out. The windows were rolled down, letting in the scent of warm summer air.

From the view outside the window you shifted your eyes to look over at the green eyed driver. The street lights flickered across his features and you could see he had a relaxed smile resting on his face. How could you possibly tell Dean Winchester you had feelings for him? The two of you had known each other since you were sixteen. You didn’t want to ruin a friendship like that.

“ what are you looking at?” Dean questioned, shifting his eyes from the road to you, even if it only was for a second.

Shit. He caught you.

“ Oh, just the mass amount of crumbs you have all over your face.” You reached forward to fiddle with the volume.

“Wha-“ you watched as dean quickly reached for the rear view mirror, turning it towards his face.

“Y/n there’s nothing on my face.” He turned to look at you, a hint of annoyance on his features.

“Oh, then it must just have been your freckles.” You shrugged. A smile spread across your face as you heard Dean let out an exasperated gasp.

“You are a savage!”

“ oh but that’s why you love me.” You teased, tilting your head to look at the hunter. What you didn’t expect to see was a light red creeping up his cheeks. Was- was Dean Winchester blushing?

“ We should uh- probably stop and get gas before heading back.” You nodded. Dean peeked down at the gas gauge nodding in agreement.

“Probably wouldn’t hurt.”

The moment you pulled into the gas station you felt something was off. It was an old gas station, sitting on the corner of an empty intersection. You couldn’t see any other buildings near by except the station. You would be caught here dead if you were alone, but Dean was here and that was good enough. The two of you slid out of the impala.

“Here.” You looked over the roof of the impala to see Dean toss you his wallet. “ if you go pay, I’ll fill up.”

You threw a thumbs up before crossing the pavement and entering the convenience store. Knowing it would take a few minutes to fill up, you chose to walk down the isles of crappy junk food. Seeing a bag of gummy bears you snatched it up. They were one of Deans favorites, maybe you could pass it off as an I’m sorry gift for the joke you made in the car. As you turned to head back towards the register you ran right into someone.

“ I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you the-“ you fell short when the person turned around to reveal black eyes. You were caught so off guard you didn’t even have time to defend yourself before a fist came flying into your nose, knocking you back onto the tile floor. The punch was strong enough to jumble your senses and make you fall back into unconsciousness.

Dean leaned back against the side of the impala, breathing in the warm summer night air, and tapping his fingers to the beat of the song playing out of the radio. His mind wandering back to y/n. Y/n with her big y/e/c eyes and crazy sense of humor, not to mention her give em hell attitude. Dean was never one to really speak his feelings, but he would admit ( at least in his head ) that he was completly and totally in love with you.

After another minute or two, Deans eyebrows knitted together. You still hadn’t come out yet. It should have only taken a minute. He turned to look across the parking lot, and at that same moment the windows of the conscience store shattered. Glass scattering across the pavement. That was all that was need to send Dean practically vaulting over the hood of the impala and into a sprint towards the doors. Before he could even reach his hand out for the door, he was slammed onto the ground by not one, but two very burley men who shared the same lifeless black eyes.

“Winchester.” One of the growled. Before Dean could reach for the blade tucked into his belt he was being dragged by the collar through the broken glass and into the store. His eyes frantically scanning for you to make sure you were okay. His heart dropped to his stomachs the moment the third demon rounded one of the isles.

There you were, being dragged across the linoleum tiles by your hair. You were clawing frantically at your attacker’s wrists. You already had a busted lip and your nose was bleeding heavily. Beyond that you had scatches across your arms and legs and the beginnings of a black eye were showing up.

You locked eyes with Dean and froze. For the first time in a long while Dean looked rightfully and properly scared, but why you didn’t understand. Dean wasn’t afraid of demons, he’ll he’d faced the devil himself. So why was he looking at you with such fear?

“ Well, looks like I finally caught me a Winchester, along with his precious little damsel.” The demon gripping your hair chuckled. “ Now if I time this right you’ll get to watch this precious little thing here die choking on her own blood, and then once that’s over I’ll slit your throat and go after sweet little Sammy. How does that sound?”

“You sure do a lot of talking.” You mumbled. You weren’t expecting to get a rule out of any of the demons but once the words left your mouth one of them left Deans side to take another swing at you as the one holding you yanked your hair again.

Dean took his chance and snapped his head back, slamming it into the face of the demon holding him down, who in turn stumbles backwards letting him go. Yanking the blade from his belt he rushed forward, plunging it into the chest of one holding you. In turn he swung his arm back burying it into the others neck. Before he could get to the final one black sample was crawling across the floor and seeping through one of the vents.

“Damn it!” He screamed, kicking a soda van across the floor.

“Dean, it’s fine. It’s gone.” You coughed, attempting to push yourself up from your spot on the floor. Your voice drawing Dean back.

“Y/n!” The hunter rushed forward,kneeling down in front of you. “Are you okay?”

“Ill live. I’ve been through worse.” You breathed. Dean reached up, cupping your cheek in his palm.

“ you scared the hell out of me.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He pulled back eyes scanning your face and assessing your injuries.

“Let’s get you back to the bunker so I can patch you up.” Hoisting you onto your feet you let out a yelp as you put weight onto your right ankle.

“I think I might have a sprained ankle as well.” You groaned, falling against Deans shoulder.

“ well I guess the only thing I can do is this.” Before you could question him Dean was sweeping you up into his arms, and carrying you out of the convenience store bridal style.

Maybe there was more than just meets the eye.

(A/n: this took awhile to write and I wasn’t sure how to end it but tell me if u guys want a part 2)

[sladedick]

im just creepin on your twitter (as you do) and i wondering if u would ever write some rastim? bc 👀👀

yes!!!!! sorry this too k so long i love ra’stim owo

noncon/underage/switching/violence/black humor | on ao3

           Timothy Drake stares at his American school lunch in the fuzzy security camera. His dark circles are visible under his eyes even from this height, and his hair is visibly unwashed. Equations trail their way up pale arms in smudged ink. He shovels another soggy french fry into his mouth, scratching his armpit with the other hand.

           “Are you sure you want that one, Master?” Ra’s’s assistant inquires, standing meekly next to him as he watches the screen.

           “You dare question the will of the Demon?” Ra’s booms.

           “N-no, master, of course not,” he mutters, looking down. Ra’s turns his attention back to Timothy. He’s facedown in his applesauce, clearly snoring.

           “He’s perfect.”

Share the happy news with your detective

           “Happy engagement,” Ra’s says. Tim blinks at him.

           “To who?”

           “To you.”

           “I’m not engaged,” he says blankly.

           “I am pleased to inform you that you are. To me, the Demon’s Head.”

           “No,” Tim declares.

           “Yes.” Ra’s’s grin shows teeth.

           “No!”

           “This is not a discussion,” Ra’s says. “It is the respectful thing to do before I deflower you, Detective.”

           Tim makes a disgusted face. “You won’t be ‘deflowering’ me. I had sex with Superboy.” It had been an ordeal. Kon’s Kryptonian dick had gained semi-sentience and tried to lay its eggs in Tim. Turns out Clark hadn’t bothered to give him ‘the talk’.

           Ra’s’s lip curls. “How inappropriate.”

           “No premarital sex, huh, but rape is a-okay,” Tim mocks.

           “Victor’s rights, Timothy.”

           “That’s bullshit,” Tim says. Ra’s wags a finger in his face.

           “Language, Detective.”

           Tim sticks his tongue out. “You can’t marry minors without parental consent. Your marriage is null and void. Ra’s! Ra’s, listen to me, we have to be in Alabama—”

Keep excessive amounts of alcohol away from your detective

           The reception is ostentatious, of course.

           Ra’s first notices the problem when Tim’s step is slightly halting at the reception, cheeks slightly redder—always red, really, given how pale his skin is even for a European. They’re even red through the several layers of makeup that Ra’s had his servants apply.

           Tim gives a lopsided grin, showing off teeth that, until recently, had had braces on them. That’s the second sign something is off. Timothy has been pouting ever since he was kidnapped.

           “I want — some more campaign,” he says, quite sincerely. A face, as if he knows that’s not quite right. “Clam pain.” A pause. “Sham veins?”

           “Champaign, dear,” Ra’s says softly. Timothy grabs another glass from a passing server before Ra’s can stop it. The reception is ostentatious, and Timothy’s dress is no exception, in lacy whites and pale greens, showing off his body just enough to tell everyone what Ra’s has that they don’t. And how they should be jealous of Ra’s’s high school concubine.

           “It’s poor taste to be drunk at your own reception,” Ra’s says.

           “Your … fault,” Tim says. He sways slightly. Ra’s catches his arm. “Kidnapped me. Miss my family.”

           “You’ll make a new one quite soon.”

           “Fuck you. Hate you,” he mumbles. “Don’t wanna get pregnanant. Pregant. Prenengant.”

           Ra’s snatches the glass of champagne from Timothy’s hand as the boy slumps slightly against him.

           “I insist,” he says coldly, angrily, “that you be conscious for the consummation.”

           He takes some pleasure in seeing Timothy’s skin lose its redness for the first time that night, falling away to reveal a pale face. Timothy grabs desperately for the alcohol, but Ra’s whisks it away just in time.

           “Absolutely not.”

             2. Keep your detective well entertained

           “You can’t all be monks,” Tim tries to explain. The ninja sat in a circle around him squint at him through the eyeholes in their masks, heavy armor clinking as they shift. Tim repeats it in Arabic for the two that don’t speak English, and then switches to it for good.

           “I wish to be of the shadow subclass,” Ninja No. 3 says.

           “As do I,” adds Ninja No. 1.

           “The point of Dungeons and Dragons is to be something you’re not. It’s escapism.” The four guards, practically brainwashed into the service of Ra’s al Ghul, stare at him. “Nobody is allowed to be a ninja monk.”

           “I will be a warlock,” says Ninja No. 2, waving about the bit of paper that Tim had given him, translated from what Tim remembers of the Player’s Guide. “In service of the great Head of the Demon—”

           “This is a fantastical universe. Ra’s doesn’t exist. See? Escapism!” Tim sighs. “If you don’t cooperate I’m going to tell him you were very inadequate and suggest severe punishment.” He stares sternly.

           The ninja pale. Tim wouldn’t do that, really, because then they would end up dead. He knows exactly how much influence he has with Ra’s. The threat, however, is still good.

           “I will be a fighter,” sighs Ninja No. 2. “In the service of nobody.”

           “Perfect!” Tim grins. He feels like he should patronizingly pat their heads, but refrains. That’s the kind of thing they might only accept from Ra’s.

           “I will be a sorcerer,” says Ninja No. 4, “who works for only himself, and wields fantastic power.”

           Tim nods enthusiastically.

           “I will be a rogue,” says Ninja No. 1, “who overthrows his glorious leader and takes his place, murdering his kin and raping his wife—”

           “Wait just a second—”

           “—and sending all his castles and being to endless ruin, in search of individuality.”

           “I mean,” Tim says, “I’ll allow it …”

           (Ninja No. 1 doesn’t show up the next week. Neither do any of the others. It wasn’t your fault, Ra’s assures him, though please do not encourage individuality, Timothy.)

             3. Be assured your detective is sexually satisfied and interested

           Tim sits on one side of the wooden table, idly tracing the patterned texture with one

finger. Ra’s sits stiff and regal as always, a few slips of paper right in front of him. This is obviously a Meeting. Ra’s is always around Tim, but a Meeting is different. Ra’s has something to talk about, and Tim probably doesn’t want to hear it.

             “Beloved,” Ra’s says.

             “Ra’s,” Tim replies. His voice is considerably cold. More tired.

             “I’ve been doing some research,” Ra’s says. “You have been quite uninterested in our sexual activity.”

             “It’s because I object to the rape,” Tim says.

             “Ah, I think not. I think you’re simply not … stimulated enough. So I found out what you might be interested in.”

             “Please don’t—”

             The papers are slapped onto the table like a death warrant, and Tim is stared in the face by his last six months of search history.

             man turns little brother gay big dick blowjob looks back at him like the antichrist with flaming, doomed eyes. Tim pales. He tries to think of exactly what he’d been searching on PornHero before Ra’s had caught up with him, but his mind is suddenly completely blank.

             bears rail twink anal dp rimming glares accusingly at him. Tim knows that Ra’s has a perfectly neutral expression on his face. He always does. But Tim can’t force himself to meet the green eyes, not even on the pain of losing some of his pride.

             “And some more enlightening content,” Ra’s adds, putting another piece of paper on the table. Tim can barely bring himself to open his eyes and look.

             batman fucks robin hard in the ass, batman and robin blowjob, batmanxrobin—

             Tim covers his eyes. He can’t take it.

             “You’re particularly understimulated in the bedroom. Would you prefer that I don a suit in the manner of your adopted father? Would you enjoy referring to me as—”

             “No!” Tim almost screams. He wants to cover his ears. “Ra’s, please. Please don’t, okay? I’ll be good, okay? I’ll pretend I like getting fucked. Just please stop.”

             Ra’s makes a little humming sound. “This is not a punishment, Beloved. I am simply curious.” The rustling sound of papers lets him know what’s going on. “Though perhaps you can explain this? Superboy x reader fluffy love fanfiction?”

             Tim turns white.

             “I’m going to kill myself,” he declares, and he’s not sure if he’s joking or not.

             4. Install safety bars on windows; learn modern youth jargon

           “I’m going to kill myself,” Timothy says.

           It’s something he says a lot. Quite a bit, really, typically any time something goes even a little wrong. Timothy had explained to him, a sullen glare in his eyes, that it was a joke. Ra’s had eventually been persuaded.

           The fact that Timothy is crouched on the window ledge, the mountain wind making long-grown dark hair—tended to with the most expensive shampoos—swirl out behind Timothy, makes the thought of him joking much less likely.

           “That is a choice you will regret,” Ra’s says coolly. He could try to grab him, but Timothy would fall out of the window and die anyways. Then when it came time to punish him properly, Timothy could attempt to childishly shift the blame.

           Timothy flips him off.

           Ra’s raises an eyebrow. “How rude, Beloved.”

           “Yeet,” Timothy says. Ra’s assumes this also means I’m going to kill myself because right after Timothy does it, he’s falling through the air. Ra’s doesn’t hear the crack of his bones or see the blood spatter, but he sees the broken body splayed in the snow below, certainly dead.

           “How inconvenient,” Ra’s says, to nobody in particular. Except, perhaps, the three guards who monitor Timothy at all times. He makes a mental note to have them executed.

             6. Discourage your detective from staging coups

             “Fuck,” Tim says.

             “Indeed.” Ra’s’s teeth are perfect, pearly white. A wickedly curved sword at his side slowly drips blood into the oceans pooled around his feet, the corpses’ blood eking its way towards Tim’s booted feet.

             Tim stomps. Blood splashes, staining the bottom of his robes. “Fuck!”

             Ra’s sheathes his sword. The front of his shirt is crimson, showing that he, at least, did not escape unscathed. Tim draws some small satisfaction from that, even though he feels the guards still loyal to Ra’s grab at his shoulders, yanking his arms behind his back and holding him still.

             “A valiant attempt, Detective,” Ra’s says. “Next time, I suggest purging your dissenters’ ranks for spies more carefully.” He moves forward, and Tim sags slightly in the arms of the guards.

             “I’m sorry?” Tim offers.

             “You’re not.”

             Tim sticks his tongue out.

             7. Properly reprimand your detective

             “I’m sorry,” Tim whimpers, head hanging between his shoulders as he stares down at the bed beneath him, fingers curled in the sheets, eyes squeezed shut in pain.

             A hand cards gently through sweaty hair. “Shh, Timothy, it will be over soon,” Ra’s murmurs. The back of the boy’s thighs and buttocks are covered in red switch marks, from the birch thing that Ra’s holds in the hand that does not hold Timothy. The skin burns red and pink and parts bleed. Timothy won’t be able to sit down for a month without remembering this.

             The next one whips down with a wicked noise. Timothy chokes, spasms, arms shaking. He gasps, tears clinging to his long, pretty lashes like pearls.

             “You are free to cry if you like, Beloved,” Ra’s says softly. “Forty out of fifty. You’re almost finished.”

             8. Curb attempts to relate to the youth

           Ra’s throws his sword. It impales the man through the gut; a wound that will leave him squirming for hours in agony before he finally expires.

           “Yeet.”

           (Timothy doesn’t speak to him for a week.)

             9. Keep track of possessions around your detective

           “Is that my cape, Detective?”

           Tim wraps the green folds further around himself, his small form almost disappearing inside of it. “Maybe.”

           “Are you going to return it?”

           The high collar hides Timothy’s face, and slightly muffles his answer. “No.”

            10. Take very good care of your detective, and give it nobody else to turn to when it hurts

           Timothy’s eyes are wide, blank oceans, full of a sort of pain and sadness that Ra’s knows will pass, but he still almost dislikes seeing in his consort’s eyes. Ra’s’s arm is wrapped around him, fingers splaying dark hair around them, Timothy warm against his chest. His eyes are closed, the two of them wrapped in Ra’s’s cape. Before, Timothy would flinch away whenever he was to be held. Now, he almost begs to be touched with his eyes, even when he is too proud to ask.

           A shift of him. Ra’s stays still, doesn’t move, enjoying the fact of Timothy against him. A hand slowly pets his hair.

           Something is wet against his chest, where the neck of his shirt is cut down to reveal his chest. Ra’s almost has to pry Tim’s face off of him, and it comes away teary.

           “How do you fair, my love?”

           A hand rests on Ra’s’s shoulder, pale fingers against dark, tanned skin. The eyes look past Ra’s.

           “I hate you,” Timothy whispers. It’s not an accusation. Simply a sad, broken confession.

           “I know,” Ra’s says, almost, almost sympathetic.

           A pause,

           A long, long pause.

           “I love you,” Tim whispers, and it’s even softer, barely audible. And then he’s diving back against Ra’s’s chest, Ra’s’s head tucked above Tim’s.

           “I know,” Ra’s murmurs.

           The look in his eyes is the stare of a man who has killed millions, and will kill millions more.

[marshmallow-phd]

Memories Past

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Kris x Reader

Summary: The last thing Kris wanted was to move on. He was perfectly content wallowing in his misery while pretending everything was okay. But when you come walking into his shop with a broken down car, he realizes the thing he’d been avoiding the most just might be the cure he always needed. He just couldn’t believe that it’d been you all along. Kris had been your best friend when you were kids before he’d moved away without a word of goodbye. Now nearly fifteen years later, you run into him again by pure coincidence. The memories come rushing back to you, stirring something inside. A childhood crush shouldn’t upend your picture perfect life, but sometimes, destiny has other things in mind…

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I Final

**

“(Y/n), listen to me, please!” Kris had to hold himself back from breaking down the door completely in his desperate attempt to get you to understand. He realized he’d gone about explaining what he was in the wrong way, the wrong order, but you couldn’t just end it. Not like this.

When you refused to even acknowledge his attempts to talk to you, to get you to let him back in so he could explain all of this properly, he stop hitting his fists against the wooden barrier that kept the two of you apart.

Kris stood there, just staring at your door as if by some miracle it would swing open again on its own accord and you’d run into his arms, begging him not to go. But all that came to him were the soft efforts you took to hold back the tears.

You needed time. And as much as the wolf in his chest pawed and clawed at him to break down the door, he knew the best thing for him to do in the moment was to walk away. Maybe after a little while, with you left to figure things out on your own, you’d let him sit down and explain everything to you.

With one last look at your bedroom door, Kris turned and left your apartment.

Every fiber in every muscle of his inhuman being was screaming, fighting to turn back around to you. But Kris controlled himself, getting into his car that was parked out in the street. He had to keep going. He had to give you to time to process what he’d stupidly dumped on you.

Why didn’t he tell you everything before things went this far? Why didn’t he tell you that night under the stars? Or the morning you woke up in his bed at the farmhouse? Those times would have been better. He could have eased into it. Told you about his true nature before dropping the “mate” bomb. Made it seem more like a natural transition rather than an inevitability that he pulled you into.

Barely able to concentrate, Kris sped down the darkened road, needing to put as much distance between the two of you as possible to help quiet the urge to turn back. It didn’t die, but the farther he got, the more he was able to rationalize not pulling a U-turn. As he reached the back road that would lead him to the farmhouse where he could hole himself up for a few days, a sharp pain like a hundred needles stabbed at his heart.

With a yank of the wheel, Kris pulled off to the side of the road, shoving the gear shift in park with a whine from the engine. Clutching his chest, he bent over to try and breathe easier as the pain continued. He knew exactly what this was and it wasn’t good.

“No,” he huffed, the fingernails of his other hand digging into the leather of the passenger’s seat. “It’s not supposed to come on this fast.”

Was it because he was an alpha? Or was it because you so clearly told him that you never wanted to see him again, making the rejection even more apparent?

Seeing Chanyeol in a similar state last winter had scared the hell of Kris, even though he’d put on a good show. He’d tried to be a rock and a sense of encouragement for his brother who was so clearly not okay. It was a whole different story now that he was suddenly forced into that position now.

The physical pain a wolf’s body goes through when rejected by their mate was at an intensity that couldn’t be described with any known injury or torture device. White hot irons could come close, but Kris wouldn’t give those searing rods that much credit. It’s origin was deep within the wolf, coming from nowhere without any warning and no known cure except for the one person who caused it in the first place.

Tap, tap, tap.

Kris jumped at the sudden and unexpected intrusion. Jimmy was somehow waving at him on the other side of the window on the driver’s side, smiling with a little hint of worry in his eyes. How the hell-

Rolling down the window, Kris growled, “Jimmy, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I was on my way back from the races and saw you parked on the side of the road,” Jimmy explained with a lopsided smile. “You all right? It’s like one in morning.”

Kris grunted as he straightened up. “I’m fine. Just headed home.”

Jimmy rubbed a hand over his bald head. “You sure? Anything I can do?”

“I said I’m fine, Jimmy!” Regret hit Kris instantly when he saw how his friend flinched at the harsh reply. He ran a hand through his hair before dropping it down on the steering wheel. “Thanks, man, but really, I’ll be okay. I just need to get home and get some sleep.”

“Okay.” Jimmy tapped his fingers on the door before waving. “I’ll see you later. Don’t forget to call if you need anything.”

“Sure, man,” Kris nodded, pulling the gear shift into drive. “See you later.”

Careful not hit the person who was just trying to help, Kris sped down the road while going at least twenty over. The stabbing pain had subsided, but not Kris’ panic. If your rejection cause the chain reaction with his wolf to come on that fast, how much longer did he have?

Tears spilled over from one of his eyes. Kris quickly wiped it away while sniffing back more. How could he fuck it up so royally in the span of less than a few hours? He had you and then he lost you faster than his best drag time. It was taking him back to losing Jiyoon. But there was no comparison. Jiyoon was gone from this earth and you were still here, visible and touchable, yet out of sight and out of reach of his fingers.

He’d give anything to rewind time and freeze it to that perfect moment.

You’d fallen asleep before him, wrapped up in the sheets and curled up in his arms right against his chest. Your breath tickled the skin over his collar bone, warm and soothing. Kris had caressed the bumps along your spine with his fingertips, memorizing every curve and beautifully perfect imperfection that made up who you were.

It was the most at peace Kris had ever been in his life. In those few minutes before he drifted off to sleep himself, he didn’t have to worry about any outside forces coming to take you away or any past threats coming back to haunt him. He didn’t even have to worry about whether you’d accept him or not. He’d just taken that as a given and therefore taken you being in his arms for granted. For once, he’d allowed himself to just… exist. What a short lived paradise that turned out to be.

Kris didn’t even bother to pull up near the garage when he arrived at the farmhouse, screeching to a halt right in front of the porch. Junmyeon could yell at him later. He was struggling not to collapse right then and there on the grass as he all but crawled out of the car.

Just need to get into the house, he bargained with himself, just get in the house and then you can let it swallow you.

Shuffling his feet and clutching his chest, he made it up the steps and through the door, letting it slam loudly behind him.

The pain had long subsided, but the phantom feeling lingered, leaving him in fear of it flaring up again. Kris tried to keep his face neutral in case he ran into any of the others. He’d almost made it until he reached the bottom of the stairs. Tao nearly bumped into him coming down.

“Ge-ge?” Tao bent at his waist to try and get a better look at Kris, who was twisting to try and avoid showing off his red eyes and aching expression. “What happened? Where have you been?”

“It’s nothing, Tao,” Kris growled, keeping his head down. There was no way to get up the stairs without shoving the younger wolf out of the way and Tao was too sensitive to not take it personally. “I just need to get some rest.”

Tao was not going to let it go. “You look bad, Kris. Is there-”

“Just drop it!” Kris snapped, nearly snarling at his poor brother that just wanted to help. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I’m just tired and need to be alone right now. I’ll explain later.”

He wasn’t sure if he’d actually be up for telling anyone the scene he’d just been forced to play out, but he knew he’d have to tell his pack eventually, in case- Not now. Not in this state.

To Kris’ relief, Tao nodded and stepped out the way, watching his alpha trip up the stairs with concerned eyes.

**

Your tears had dried out after only a few minutes. A headache was forming behind your eyes so, with wobbly legs, you pushed yourself up to your feet and opened your door. The apartment was empty, tauntingly so. You didn’t think Kris would trick you into thinking he’d left, but then again, you didn’t really know him, did you?

Shuffling over to your medicine cabinet in the kitchen, you pulled out the bottle of aspirin and popped two into your mouth, swallowing them dry.  

With the new bout of information you’d just received, you couldn’t be alone with your thoughts. You needed to talk to someone, but the first person that came to your mind was also the person you didn’t want to see right now. Or maybe ever again.

Kris was the entire reason your life had been up ended from the scenic path it’d been on. You were perfectly content before he’d shown up. You’d put the part of your life that had involved him behind you and were happy for the future that you’d been envisioning and planning on. Hell, maybe you and Huan could have even worked through and compromised on your issues if he’d never come along. That’s what normal relationships were about, weren’t they?

And yet, you never had that chance because something decided that you and Kris were a better match. And why? Because you were friends almost two decades ago? That wasn’t fair. Where was your freedom to choose who you belonged with?

An epiphany hit you as you were trying to work your way around your receding headache to make your thoughts line up coherently. There was one person in the world that you were sure knew exactly what you were going through. She’d practically said so herself.

Hesitantly, you made your way to the living room where you’d left your cell phone on the coffee table when Kris had shown up. Sitting down on the sofa, you stared at the phone, debating.

Minseok knew Kris, according to Ji Yeon. You’d even seen them in the same group that night Kris had found you on the boardwalk. Then Ji Yeon confirmed that they knew each other enough for Minseok to know that you were Kris’ engaged friend he’d talked about.

What if they didn’t just know each other? What if Minseok was like Kris? Ji Yeon talked about how she, too, was seeing someone before Minseok came into her life. What if it was because this… mate thing had happened to her too?

The memory of first meeting Ji Yeon played in your mind. She’d shown you pictures on her camera of a particularly friendly wolf, one that seemed too aware of the camera, too intelligent to be an ordinary animal. She’d practically panicked when you pointed out how the wolf seemed to be posing for her.

Unsure if you’d even be able to speak, you simply sent a text to Ji Yeon asking if she was free to come over. With how late it was in the night, you didn’t think you’d get an answer. If not, then you’d call her in the morning. After only a minute or so, however, you received a reply simply containing a yes and an additional question that inquired if you were okay. You answered with only your address and then you waited.

Ten minutes went by before the tell-tale knock came at your door. Sighing, you stood up and opened it up for Ji Yeon.

“Hey, what’s going on?” she asked as she removed her shoes and stifled a yawn. You must have woken her up, but she came anyway.  For that, you were thankful.

You stood there and watched her with an empty feeling inside, mulling over where to start. Your exhausted brain decided to just go the blunt route. “Did you know about Kris?”

Ji Yeon froze in her half-bent position, giving you the exact answer you were expecting. Straightening up, she frowned at you. “What do you mean?”

“Is Minseok like Kris?” you countered instead.

There was a mild standoff as neither of you spoke, staring at each other. But you weren’t going to let it go or back track. Not this time.

“He finally told you,” Ji Yeon stated with a whisper. There was no question in her voice. The two of you knew exactly what the underlining subject was and there was no need to beat around the bush now.

You swallowed thickly. “You knew the whole time, didn’t you? What Kris was?”

She nodded. “Yes. I’ve always known what Kris is. What all of them are. But it wasn’t my place to say anything.”

“I thought you were my friend!” you snapped. Apparently, your tear ducts had refilled as new pools of water were filling your bottom lids once again as your fists curled by your side, your fingernails digging into your skin. “Shouldn’t I have a right to know why I’m suddenly not in love with my fiance anymore?”

“I couldn't tell you!” Ji Yeon shouted back. “I’m not allowed to! Only the wolf can tell his mate! That’s how it is!” Stepping up to you, she took hold of your shoulders, looking you in the eye. “Listen, (y/n). I understand what you are going through. Nearly two years ago, I was you. It’s confusing, at first. You’ll be angry for a little bit, but eventually you’ll understand why he chose to do things the way he did. They have to keep their secret and there’s no easy way to bring that subject up. The mate bond isn’t exactly something the average human goes through.”

You sniffed, hating how right she sounded. “But he still should have told me before sleeping with me.”

Ji Yeon flinched back, letting you go. “Okay. That I can’t help but agree with. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of things going in that order before.” Her eyes searched around the apartment. “Where is Kris? Did he leave to give you some space?”

Chewing on your bottom lip, you scratched at your scalp. “No…. I kind of threw him out.”

“W-what?” Ji Yeon’s mouth dropped in horror. “(y/n), what exactly did you say to him?”

Now you felt a little ashamed at what you had done in anger. You stared down at the floor. “After he told me about being… mates and how that was the reason Huan and I broke up, I told him I didn’t want to ever see him again.”

Ji Yeon practically pounced on you, squeezing your upper arms painfully. “Please, tell me you didn’t actually do that!”

“I was angry!” you yelled. “I wasn’t given a choice in my own life! What else was I supposed to do?”

“You don’t get it, (y/n),” she groaned. “If a wolf is rejected by their mate, they die!”

No.

As angry as you were, as hurt as you were and as much as you didn’t want to see Kris, you didn’t want to live in a world where he didn’t exist.

Your knees buckled under you and Ji Yeon wasn’t strong enough to keep you upright, sending you both to the hardwood floor.

Now you were really crying. To the point where breathing was nearly impossible. This was all too much. Too much to soak in, too much responsibility for you to handle.

“That’s not fair,” you croaked out as Ji Yeon rubbed your back. “I don’t get a choice at all? Why do I have to be forced to be with someone? Why do I have to be the reason they live or die? Who decided that was the right thing to do?”

“(Y/n), look at me,” Ji Yeon urged. Wiping away the tears so your vision was no longer blurry, you obeyed. A small, crooked smile was her lips. How could she be so calm right now? “All the mate bond does is bring you to the person that you would be the happiest with, the person who will protect you and love you like no one else. That’s all. Besides, do you really think that you couldn’t be happy with Kris?”

“That’s not the point,” you whimpered. “The point is that I should have the option to choose Kris. But I didn’t get that.” You sniffed, fearing the answer of your next question. “Is he already dead, then?”

Ji Yeon shook her head. “No. It doesn’t happen that fast. He has time. You have time to change your mind.”

“I feel backed into a corner,” you whispered. “I don’t know what to do. I’m still so angry. I still don’t want to see him. I don’t want that life.”

“I’ll stay with you tonight,” Ji Yeon volunteered. “I don’t think you should be alone right now. If you have anymore questions, I’ll answer them for you.”

You nodded, grateful that she offered before you had a chance to ask. But that would have to wait until morning. Right now, you just wanted to go back to sleep and shut your mind off. You couldn’t make a rational decision right now. You were too exhausted and confused. Your heart was being torn in two. You hated Kris - you hated the lies and the way you felt manipulated - but you also loved him. You just weren’t sure how real that love was.

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 43: Breaking Down

-I M trying 2 make text messages look more like txts.- I will probably still veer towards -writing text messages spelled like ordinary dialogue- for the most part, with abbreviations sprinkled in once in a while. 

Becoming The Mask

+=+

The dream was … vague. Toby didn't see anything graphic or specific. He didn't scream or jolt upright when he woke. Describing what exactly happened, it wouldn't even sound like a nightmare.

Innocuous; that was the SAT word someone like Blinky might use to describe it.

Toby was at school. Probably school. There was grass underfoot but lockers nearby. Darci and Mary were with him but occasionally blurred into just one girl or the other. Jim arrived, and cheerily informed them all, "Did you hear? Claire's a rock star now."

And Toby knew, with absolute certainty, that Claire Nuñez was dead.

He stood there listening to nonsense words from his friends before the dream faded out and he woke up. His breath hitched. He was shaking. His eyes stung.

Oh, god, Claire was gone.

She, she couldn't be, they weren't down in Trollmarket tonight, she was at home, she was with her parents and –

– and a Changeling. "Every Changeling you've met so far has had personal incentive to keep you alive; that's not going to be universally true." Jim had drugged his own mother unconscious without qualm after sixteen years of knowing and adoring her. Not Enrique had only been with the Nuñezes for a few months. Overdosing was easy to do by accident. Changelings were supposed to guard their secrets with their life (or, preferably, their enemies' lives) and Claire had as good as promised she was going to expose him –

His phone, Toby needed his phone, where had he left his phone?

Had he gotten his phone out of his pocket when he stripped down to his boxers for bed? Once his fumbling fingers confirmed it wasn't on the dresser in easy reach, Toby untangled himself from his blanket and stumbled to his feet. He dug through the laundry hamper for his pants. Empty pocket, empty pocket, was this even the right pair? Empty pocket, bingo! Back pocket!

His finger was headed for the call button before he noticed what time it was. Claire should be asleep. Toby wanted to hear her voice, to reassure himself that she was okay, that nobody had stolen her phone to keep her from calling for help – okay, even he could recognize his imagination was probably getting the best of him now.

-R U OK?-

Maybe he should text the group chat instead? Even if the girls were asleep, Blinky and AAARRRGGHH were in the chat now and they would be awake. Talking to someone, even if they weren't Claire, might be able to break Toby's thoughts out of the downward spirals of worry. It could be hours before Claire woke up and saw the message and texted him back.

Should he call? It wouldn't wake her if her phone was off. Of course, getting no answer might just make him feel worse.

He was hungry.

Are you hungry or are you upset?

He turned on his TV and started a round of Go-Go Sushi. He had the app on his phone as well, but using the TV gave him a larger screen, and keeping his hands off his phone would keep Toby from blowing Claire's up with a thousand texts. The peppy music, cheery colours and low stakes of the game were comforting.

Toby's phone buzzed and he dropped the controller. A cartoon fish informed him he had lost. Toby didn't care. He sighed deeply with relief when he read Claire's reply.

-yeah, Y?-

… Okay, how was he supposed to answer that without sounding like he was freaking out over nothing? Or looking like some kind of idiot who hadn't had it sink in months ago that volunteering to fight trolls might be, you know, dangerous?

Before he could work out a response, Claire texted him again.

-Did NE sneak out and go 2 ur house?- -I'll kill that little monster if mom & dad find him gone!-

-not that!- Toby replied hastily, and then considered. -At least I don't think so?- -I had a nightmare where you got hurt and woke up worried.-

Yes, 'you got hurt' was a much better, less ominous thing to say than 'you vanished and I was pretty sure you died'.

His phone rang. He'd taken a picture of Claire, Mary and Darci at the lunch table when they started sitting with him and Jim, which he'd been using as a contact picture for all three of them since most of his photos of them were in Trollmarket. The version of that picture he'd cropped to focus on Claire now lit up his screen.

"Hey."

"I'm fine, Toby. I get why you needed to check. I get nightmares too."

"You do?" About Darci and Mary, he'd guess, since she had known them longer and had never contacted him in the middle of the night except for troll matters.

"Enrique," she said simply, and Toby felt horrible for not making the connection. "Not Enrique's a brat, but he's been good about letting me check on Enrique with that mirror trick Jim showed us. I mean, it doesn't help that much, because I feel like I should've, I don't know, done something when he was getting kidnapped, but at least I know he's okay while we look for a way to save him." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I figured it'd be easier for you to get back to sleep if I called you."

"Yeah. This … this really helps. I'm glad you're okay. I'll let you get back to sleep."

"See you at school."

Toby clicked the 'end call' button and picked up his game controller again.

Well. Now he knew Claire was still alive, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to sleep anytime soon.

There were some ominous scratchy noises and quiet thumps behind him, and the sound of his window sliding up. He turned, raising the game controller as if to throw it, and was paralysed by the sight of a red-eyed figure climbing in.

"Toby!"

"Jim?!"

"Chompsky said you needed help." The gnome was on the Changeling's shoulder; Toby could see him now that Jim was in the light and his eyes weren't glowing anymore. "I thought you were under attack."

"… I had a nightmare." He should've gone ahead and texted the group chat if the whole team was going to find out anyway.

"Did you want something to eat?" Jim offered.

Toby shook his head. He almost, jokingly, asked for that tea Jim had been slipping to Dr L for years, before that thought yanked his earlier fears for Claire to the forefront of his mind, and suddenly he was shaking again and could only take shallow breaths.

Chompsky hopped off Jim's arm and scurried over to Toby, chattering in a tone that might be meant to be soothing, and patted Toby's foot.

"Okay, new plan," said Jim, wide-eyed. He turned blue and sprouted horns. He picked Toby up – Toby flinched a little, and Jim did too – and put Toby on his back, and then Jim carried Toby piggyback down the stairs and to Nana's room, where he set Toby on his feet and shifted back into human shape, still half-holding Toby up.

Jim knocked on the half-open door before he pushed it open all the way.

Three cats looked up from the bed and blinked lazily at the boys. The other two paused their tussle on the floor, but only long enough to check who was there. Nana's cats were almost as used to the Lakes as they were the Domzalskis.

Nana didn't sleep with her hearing aid in. Mr Meow-Meow PI always batted her face when her alarm clock rang, and she trusted the cat to do the same if the smoke detector went off. Jim guided Toby to the bed and nudged Nana's shoulder. Her snoring stopped. She groped around for her glasses – Jim moved them under her hand and retreated back to the doorway. Toby sagged.

"Toby-Pie?" Nana blinked at him and put her hearing aid in. "You've been crying."

Jim's shadow vanished from the doorway, either to cook something or go back home.

Toby climbed onto the bed, displacing the nearest cat. Special Agent Patches rumbled warningly at him, but made room, and didn't put her ears back or hiss. The last time Toby had done this, the old calico had been just a kitten. He wondered if she could remember.

"I had a bad dream," said Toby. "One of my friends – she got hurt. She disappeared, and I thought she was dead. And I talked to her, for real after I woke up, so I know she isn't really gone, but – but it could happen. Anytime. And – I'm scared."

"Oh, Toby." Nana hugged him as best she could, then pushed down the blanket – a challenge, with Toby lying on it – to free her arms and hug him better.

"She and Jim have been fighting. He … he's wrong, but he doesn't really get why she's upset. Like, he sort of gets it but not enough to realize he should apologize, just enough to think she'll understand if he explains better. And, I know it's not all Jim's fault, because he didn't want us to know in the first place and we're the ones who followed him, but I'm still mad at him. I still feel like, like he put us in danger."

Toby's voice hitched in something like a hiccup.

"And he's just, just so hard to be mad at because he – there's so much he's not telling us but it's obvious he's hurting too, and that he wasn't trying to hurt anyone else on purpose – like, not for the sake of hurting us, I mean, because some of the stuff was on purpose and he knew it'd hurt but he thought it was, like, the lesser of two evils – and all that makes me feel guilty for being mad at him but also madder for him making me feel guilty."

"Do you need to not see Jimmy for a while?" Nana offered. She looked puzzled as well as concerned. Toby probably hadn't made a lot of sense.

"I don't know what I need."

One of the cats, he didn't see which one, hopped onto his leg and started kneading. Nana rubbed his back. After a while, Toby dozed off.

Once she was sure he was settled, Nancy got up. The bedside table, where her phone was, was on the side of the bed Toby was now sleeping on, so she had to go around the bed to get to it.

+=+

Dr Tiffany Archenn had been one of Waltolomew Stricklander's earliest recruits for Changeling world domination independent of Gunmar – so early that he had still been going by 'Waltolomew' back then.

He had also been trying, since the early 1980s, to convince her to take a guidance counsellor job at his high school. He'd had far less luck persuading her on that score.

Her current therapy practice helped the Janus Order keep an eye on what sort of things humans wanted, for bribery, or worried over, for blackmail, and whether any of them had seen troll or goblin or Changeling activity that needed to be covered up, and to identify future parents suitable for hosting new Changelings. Transferring to the school would reduce her utility, and make her job and Walter's redundant.

Maybe that was the point. Maybe he wanted to transfer elsewhere but couldn't bear to leave his school without any Changeling influence. He'd been a teacher at one school or another since Arcadia Oaks was founded. Naturally he would hesitate to cut the Janus Order's ties to the school system, even if he wanted to do something different personally.

That wasn't why he was visiting her that night. He had come to propose an even more ludicrous plan. Interim Head of the Janus Order? Her?!

"Why would I want to paint a target on my back?"

"You've turned down promotions in the past. Otto will assume you were selected because you lack ambition, and therefore be more likely to try recruiting you than killing you, but more likely to ignore you than either."

Walter was clever. Unfortunately, this meant he sometimes overthought problems with simple solutions. "Have you considered bringing Otto with you?"

Otto would suspect a murder attempt, of course, but he might still go, out of curiosity about what Walter was up to and with intent of being the one to stab first.

"The project is sensitive. Including Otto would be unfeasible."

"And you can't just kill him, because?"

"I don't know what information he's arranged to have released in the event of his death or the means by which it would come out. A bomb with a dead man's switch is the most challenging to defuse."

"Bottle bombs are the most difficult to defuse," Tiffany corrected. Those depended on the explosive's internal chemical reaction rather than an external fuse, a reaction which began immediately during the bomb's construction, and the improvised nature of most bottle bombs meant the explosion was nearly impossible to time accurately in advance.

"My point is, Otto suspects me of involvement in Bular's death, and might have gathered enough circumstantial evidence to sway the rest of the Order."

"In fairness, the Trollhunter has never had much luck against Bular before. Them finally killing him does make one wonder if they had inside help." Walter gave her an unamused look. Tiffany kept her expression mildly interested, like she was encouraging a patient to air their worries.

"Therefore," Walter continued, "I need Otto distracted, not dead. If he does turn up dead in a way that can be connected to me, any speculation he's been sharing abruptly gains weight."

"Or a faithful Changeling became indignant at being accused of treason and killed the accuser." Changelings weren't the most even-tempered of … Actually, and bearing in mind that most of her basis of comparison was Gumm-Gumm behaviour, Changelings might be the most even-tempered of trolls. Said evenness came at the cost of repressed emotion, so it wasn't same as a healthy capacity to feel and release one's emotions in order to remain calm, but still. "You realize you're just giving him time to find or fabricate more evidence against you."

"As interim head, you would have the authority to order his execution, if you so chose."

Oooh, a chance to do your dirty work for you, how tempting. Execute him yourself, you lazy ass.

"You would put me in a position of authority over you?" she taunted, like they didn't both know she would shunt the responsibility back to him at the first opportunity. Tiffany liked being obscure and going unnoticed. She wasn't going to ruin that for herself by accepting a promotion.

"Who else could I trust to give it back?" said Walter, clearly thinking along the same lines.

Ah, so that was his true goal. He wanted her to recommend candidates, and implying she was his first choice would give her incentive to suggest ones good enough to take herself out of consideration.

"Bernie Sturges." Bernie was more on the side of science than anything else.

"Otto got to them first."

"Really. I always thought they were one of yours – wanting to keep the world as it is until they're done studying it."

"Dr Sturges is investigating Bular's cause of death."

"I see." Tiffany tapped her chin. "Then you will want to delay them, before they find anything that could be ... misconstrued, as proof of your involvement. Like a friendly-fire injury from when you tried to drive the Trollhunter away and they dodged, causing your knife to hit Bular instead."

"I wasn't there for that battle."

"Trolls are stone, scars last a long time. Did you and Bular never fight side by side?" She dropped this line of questioning. "Zelda Nomura."

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Put her through a week of diplomacy where she can't pull her swords on everyone and she'll be blackmailing you to take your job back."

"Or the Order will descend into anarchy before my return."

Really, Tiffany just assumed Nomura was involved in whatever Walter was trying to hide about Bular's death. Everyone knew Nomura had once tried to infiltrate Trollmarket and steal the Amulet. She probably still had connections there. Maybe she had even found sympathizers.

(Not Changeling sympathizers; Tiffany couldn't stretch her imagination that far. But Gumm-Gumm sympathizers would still exist in troll communities, quietly, only eating humans in secret, willing to turn a blind eye to machinations leading to Gunmar's escape.)

"Gladys Groe."

"She and Otto despise one another."

"Exactly."

"And she's impulsive. I don't want to return and immediately have to start putting out fires."

"The new agent, the one who cooks." Everyone liked a good cook, so he'd probably survive, and he hadn't had much time to build a reputation on the surface, so he wouldn't be popular enough to usurp Walter or enough of a threat for Otto to attack. "If he won't give you your job back, you can give him detention for however long his human cover is still in high school."

"Absolutely not." Walter took out the fountain pen he used as a fidget tool. Tiffany had caught the flicker of red and gold in his eyes. "Otto would – Jim doesn't have the experience for anyone to respect his authority yet."

"Jennifer Smith, then." She practically ran Omni-Reach Travel already, so it wouldn't even be that much of stretch for her.

Walter's hands stilled and his expression softened as he considered. "Perhaps."

Tiffany's phone rang before she could think of any other recommendations. She checked it on reflex. A patient, probably having something of a crisis considering the time. She could leave it for her answering machine, but, 5:30 was late enough in the morning to justify the ringing phone waking her up and her being coherent about it.

"I should take this."

Walter nodded, still looking thoughtful. Tiffany put on a yawn as she answered, and watched Walter out of the corner of her eye to see how long it took him to yawn back.

"Hello?"

"Ah, good morning Dr Archenn. This is Nancy Domzalski. I was expecting your answering machine."

Walter yawned. He didn't open his mouth wider than a slit, but Tiffany saw his jaw move. Eleven seconds.

"I was just starting to wake up," she lied. "How can I help you?"

"I was hoping to reschedule my grandson's next appointment. Do you have any sooner times available?"

Dr Archenn reviewed her mental notes. Tobias Domzalski, age fifteen. No, wait, sixteen. Still fifteen? He turned sixteen soon if he hadn't already. Initially brought in for grief counselling, having lost his parents at a young age; continued to meet with her because Nancy didn't want to take him away from a therapist he had already built up trust and rapport with, in case he needed further help in the future; stress-related compulsive eating; family history of clinical depression; next appointment scheduled in three weeks.

"I'll have to look over my schedule and get back to you." She had it programmed into her phone and hadn't figured out how to check it without hanging up on a phone call. She had it physically written down as well, but that book was in her office.

"Of course," said Nancy. "I … I don't believe he's in immediate trouble, it doesn't have to be today … but I do think sooner would be best."

+=+

Previous Chapter (The school play happens)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (The kids try a new strategy for convincing Vendel their families are trustworthy)

Technically I don't think Tiffany should've been answering a call related to her practice while someone else was in the room, per the terms of patient confidentiality and all that, but Tiffany already discloses things about her patients to the Janus Order as she deems it necessary, so she's not all that concerned about the ethics of her behaviour here.

Nancy does not think Toby is delusional. She thinks he's frightened and stressed and hesitant to tell her why (all of which is true) and so is reaching out to someone she thinks will be able to help him.

I have decided that Nancy currently has at least five cats. There's the Siamese and Persian that Toby mentions in the show (upon AAARRRGGHH telling him he smells like cat, "My Nana has a Siamese," which might also be the cat we saw getting food levitated out of its bowl when Jim summoned the armour for the first time; later, watching Jim train, Toby gives AAARRRGGHH a paper bag with "dander from my Nana's Persian, and a couple of hairballs"), a calico, probably an orange tabby, and maybe a tuxedo cat – that's a particular form of black and white patches, both common and cute. Any cats of other description confirmed to be hers in the Tales of Arcadia franchise at a later time were simply not in the room during this chapter.

I want to keep Otto in the story but it's getting trickier to justify why Walter isn't trying to kill him off while he has the opportunity. Thoughts?

[beyondthelightnunau-blog]

Message Delivered

<AngelAU Part 2>

Kram had blindly rose into the Heavens. Through the Boarder, into Astria. Once there she landed with a gasp of relief. She was Home! The ever constant grip of the collar however reminded her she had a task to complete. She was quickly intercepted by a Delta Ranked Guard. They glowered at her.

“What is a Messenger doing coming from Earth?” 

“All Mother... I must speak with All Mother about the Treaty!” Kram insisted this despite her lack of breath. The Guard held up his hand with a disapproving nod.

“No Messenger speaks with All Mother. You know this. Tell me the message- and I shall pass it up as per our custom.” 

“Okay uh... The Reaper sends her regards to the All Mother? Uhm.. She refuses the Riches and Wealth. She seeks power. She will keep me and my brother, and says to offer her more than what the Demolians give her. She awaits for the offer. U...Uhm...and she said quickly or...or my wings...” 

The Guard nodded in alarm, suddenly understanding Kram’s urgency. “Understood! I will tell her immediately. You have done well Messenger. Go to your next duty.” 

Kram shuffled uncomfortably. Lark had been right. This was a bad choice. “I can’t... I.... the Treaty...?” She grew quiet- what was she going to do? Taking one step forward she thought of fleeing. Trying it just once. In the end however, she could not disobey. Not because of whatever force Katar had against her, but instead because she was too good to disobey. So with a heavy sigh she rose into the air and headed back down to Earth. 

Meanwhile, Lark was still perched at the end of the street. He was grooming his wings, cleaning them from the filth that Earth offered them. Lark had a bad feeling. A suspicion. After all no Angels went to Earth. Ever. Why would to Messengers, the lowest of the low be sent down here to deliver a treaty? It didn’t add up. It didn’t make sense. Why did it take two? Why a male and female? These things didn’t seem right. Moreover, how long had Kram been gone? Surely it had been too long now? Where was she? What was taking her so long? 

It was concern alone that had the male wander back to the Church. He was sure not to draw too near to the rundown piece of shit. It’s boarded up windows, wear and tear all seemed like a trap. The building screamed danger, and he listened. Wings folded the white haired male crossed his arms, green eyes blue eyes picking the building apart for escape points. He was certain there was a backdoor- else why would there be a fence and backyard? 

He waited, going so far as to sit upon the broken sidewalk, although he was careful to avoid the glass littering the surface. Nearly twenty minutes later, Kram landed, ignoring the glass that bit into her feet- causing bright silver blood to smear against the pavement. Not that she paid much mind. Pain was enjoyable- and not really noticed when she was in a state of panic as she was in now. Lark caught her arm with a sharp tug, “Kramelisa what are you doing?!” His tone was sharp, angry. “I... I was delivering the message back. I had.. She... The Devil... and... then she grabbed... and... I... I had to...” Lark held his hands up. “Stop. We’re leaving.” 

Kram shook her head, with tiny tears at the corner of her eyes, “No no no no!” The male grabbed his smaller sister with a grumble and took off into the air, dragging her along. He’d hardly made it fifty meters into the air before a short squawking shriek struck his ears. His progress stopped, and with a sharp look down he quickly found why. Thorns bit and dug into Kram’s neck, bright silver blood adorning the deadly leash that tried to drag her back to earth. She wheezed and gasped clawing at her brother to let her go. Pain, So much pain. It grew into dizzying sparks a swell of pleasure, overcome by the increasing about of adrenaline and stress pumping through her thin veins.

The longer her brother refused to let her go- the stronger and more violent the pull on the thorns became, until Kram was certain she was going to be beheaded. Lark gave in an released her. Oh but she did not fall, the thorns pulled taunt, and viciously slammed her poor frame into the ground, hard enough to quite literally indent the earth with an angelic impression. Kram nearly vomited from the force of impact, the thorns sawing and searing as her limp form was dragged into the house. The door opening to accept the nearly unconscious angel. 

Lark kept close to his sister, cutting his hands to try and free her from this strange leash. “What’s happening? Kram, Kram. Talk to me damn it.” Without realizing he was dragged into the church, clawing and yanking at Kram’s collar to set her free, as she blinked blearily- slightly incoherent of her situation. The thorns seemingly vanished- Kram’s collar dyed silver in blood. Before Lark was a pair of feet, and above him was a very unimpressed Huntress.

“Holy Shit.” Was the best the white haired Male could make out. He raised his arms in defense as he tried to yank his sister back. “Reaper.” Oh he knew EXACTLY who she was, while his sister moaned in pained delight? At least that’s what it sounded like. 

“Ughh....about time. Took long enough.” Katar grumpily growled, before placing a towel back on her face. Wait... was she... hungover? She lazily raised a hand, “Water. Go get me water. Make it quick.” She didn’t seem to be talking to anyone in particular. 

Lark narrowed his eyes, “She, nor I is your servant. Now release whatever spell you put on her and let us go this instant.” Lark snapped. He was quite stern, his blue eyes burning with rage. How dare she hurt his sister in such a vulgar manner, then demand water! 

Katar chuckled, the sound dark, nasty, foreboding. “Look at her neck child, she’s mine, and so are you.” With a crisp sound, much like a snap, Lark felt his windpipe constrict. A collar. Oh hell no. Glaring down, he yanked on the collar, a small name tag visible. Pet.  HELL NO. 

“You... You can’t enslave the Prince or Princess of Astria! How dare you call me a pet.” His wings expanded, their beautiful fluffy feathers glowed with iridescent light, making the room fill with rainbow reflections. “You will release us NOW Demon Pet.” He snarled viciously. 

“Down.” The word was spoken softly, and yet an unseen force slammed Lark to the ground. The blow was so powerful his nose bled. He struggled to rise but it was futile. Instead he could feel his windpipe constrict. The collar unforgiving as he gasped and choked on threats. Looking up he’d find Kram clawing at her damaged neck weakly- her eyes rolling as she wheezed pathetically. It was then, that Lark submitted. For while he acted like he did not care, Kram was by far the most precious thing to him. 

“Now if I let your collars loosen, will you actually listen?” Katar had sat up, removing the towel from her face as she gently kicked Lark in the face with her bare foot. Smearing her victory into his face with her toes. He growled in his rage, but nodded none the less. He had no choice. If he didn’t agree... what would happen to Kram? The small female pathetically reaching out for aid. 

Without any indication the collars began to loosen. The two finally able to breathe once more. Those sharp red eyes glared at Kram thoughtfully, the angel’s ruined neck slowly healing. Yet for all her pain the angel seemed... content? How bizarre. Katar pointed to the kitchen, which was relatively close, “You. Water.” Her gaze on Lark. 

The tall male stood with a growl of rage. However, he was obedient this time, turning his back on the Huntress to get her a glass of water. A simple task that was completed quickly, although he hoped she’d choke on it. Wretched Bitch. Oh Lark was furious. With a sharp movement, he handed the Huntress the requested glass of water. Katar in turn, accepted it. Once in possession of the glass, she jerked it upwards, successfully dumping the water into the angel’s face. 

“Oh no.... my hand slipped. Clean it up.” Her tone turned dark, dangerous. If looks could kill, Katar would have been dead on the spot. However, Lark was smart, and chose not to retaliate just yet. Instead he huffed and returned to the kitchen were he had seen a towel. 

The cat took a single finger, hooking it on Kram’s collar and lifting the small woman up, as she didn’t weigh that much. Kram looked upon Katar with rosy cheeks and a flustered expression. However Katar didn’t punish the angel, instead Kram was released next to Katar. “Stay.” One word, spoken with finality. Kram nodded with a soft, “Y-yes Ma’am...” 

A sickly sweet taste filled Kram’s mouth, confusing her greatly. It filled her senses along with an short spurt of euphoria. The angel grinned like an idiot, relaxing into the spot she had been told to stay, hiding her face which was now a very obvious red, her wings twitching with enjoyment. No she didn’t know WHY this was happening, oh but how lovely it was to experience. While Kram might have been basking in her moment, Lark was not only unimpressed. He was almost insulted by his sister’s happiness. 

How dare she feel good and happy and content when they were both stuck in this hell hole with this wretched... UGH! With a short flick, the water that had soaked into the carpet came up and embedded itself into the towel. The towel that he tossed into the kitchen. It landed quite perfectly on the counter, folded neatly. There was no time to be impressed however, Lark glowered at the Huntress. “You’ve had your fun. Now release us Reaper.” He was not willing to obey, not willing to cooperate and be happy go lucky like Kram. He was going to resist and get them both their freedom. Whatever it took! 

Katar gave a large grin, teeth exposed, fangs in all. “Ahhh ha, you don’t get it do you?” She turned to Kram, who sat up at attention (and slight fear), “What was your name again? Tell him about the Treaty.” 

Kram’s expression melted into an apology as she spoke, “The All Mother granted the Huntress possession of the messenger and the messenger’s brother. For ahem... Fertility and ah... use.” 

Lark’s expression was one of disgust and horror, “What?” He shook his head in disbelief, “For fertility?” He was NOT going to have sex with this monstrous woman. He wanted to argue. To say hell with the treaty. However, Lark was no idiot. To do so would mean the deaths and enslavement of so many more. Their All Mother had made a sacrifice. Two in return for many.  “But we aren’t the Messengers. We used their clothes as disguise. We were escaping. We’re not apart of these...these negotiations.” 

Kram shook her head slowly, tugging on her long white hair with a nervous smile, “But... I delivered it. That makes me the messenger... and you.... are my brother. We can’t wiggle out of this.” 

“I mean she’s right. After you two were escaping- I could offer asylum. All you have to do is obey. Especially you pet. Pet’s are supposed to obey. I mean look at your sister she’s enjoying herself.” 

Lark gave Katar an expression that could only be described as ‘are-you-fucking-dumb?’ his voice only furthered this expression as he was quite short with her. “Kram is an idiot. Over emotional, twisted, and rash. Of course she’s enjoying herself. She’s a whore for attention and will do anything for positive reinforcement. You’re not fucking special. She’ll do shit for anyone.” Kram had the decency to look offended and hurt. “I won’t obey a murderer. A blade for hire with no decency to wear CLOTHES or think about those around her. You both disgust me.”  No mercy from Lark’s verbal wrath. 

Without a warning, a sharp sweet taste filled his mouth. Sudden, overwhelming bliss flooded him. His knees went weak, Lark didn’t know if he was standing, running, sitting or laying down. He lost all sensation. The euphoria subsided and he found he was on the ground. His face red and his anger distant. He tried to pull on his rage. To strike back, but that sweet warning taste flooded his mouth once more, and he lost all sense of self and time. Grinning like an idiot he went limp. He may have resisted against pain, but not even Lark could stave off pleasure.

“Pity.” Katar hummed “Here I thought you were sooo~ stubborn. Turns out you’re just like your sister.” Katar took the towel that had been on her face, and began to clean up the blood that dyed Kram’s collar. “You’re going to get blood on my couch.” Was the only grumbled excuse that was offered. 

Kram spoke up, softly, “He means....uh... well.  I...he... we’re... not used to serving. He’s just.... angry that... All Mother would do that... he’ll come around... with time... he uh... like’s sweet things...” She stopped talking with a soft sound of distress at being cleaned up. Not that she minded, she didn’t. Instead she felt bad that Katar was doing it, her poor face bright red with embarrassment, and slight shame. 

Lark gasped softly as the bliss ended. He collected his baring. Katar grunted and stood up straight. “Alright Listen up. You both are dumb pieces of shit. You’re going to listen to me. All you think about is yourselves. You’re self absorbed. And your All Mother? Psh. She’s Nothing. None of you are Holy or grand. You’re filthy and mortal like the rest of us. No better than the Demolians. Worse even, because at least they aren’t racist cunts. You have free roam of the house, but you have to clean it. Starting with the bottles. However you,” She motioned to Kram, “You’re staying here. You can sing to me while I sober up here.” 

Lark didn’t argue, which was a first. He merely stood, and silently began collecting bottles and trash. No clinking, no crunch nor crumpling sounds. So silently in fact that his entire being went iridescent, as if he wasn’t there at all. 

Kram’s glow grew soft, soothing. For she may have been slow healing herself, her ability to heal other’s was astounding, “I knoooow~ I know, you Belooooong, to Soooome~body neeeeew~” She paused for breath the next note sweet and soft, “But tonight..... you belllloooonngg~ to me. Just to little old me.” The sound was beautiful enough. Katar’s aches and pains, past wounds healed. Scars thick and mended. Her headache gone. A warm feeling filled her limbs and mind. A dull happiness spreading. Her mind went unfocused, and without her permission her mouth moved, words coming out. Oh but it wasn’t alarming. It felt right. It felt good. “I belong to you.” 

Lark snapped up to attention, “Kram you didn’t.”  The angel raised her arms, “It was on accident. I was singing, and... I didn’t mean to.” 

“Didn’t mean to...” Katar’s sharp voice seemed so out of place with that dreamy tone. Lark however seemed thrilled. 

“Get her to release us. NOW KRAM.” The female turned towards Katar with a nervous gasp. 

“But what if she wakes from it? She’ll skin us alive. Or... or... mantle our wings... I don’t want to try anything....” Lark pulled Kram’s hair savagely, growling at her. Naturally the twisted pain whore broke and obeyed her brother.

“You want to release us.”  

Katar nodded, her red eyes not really seeing the world around her, she was floating somewhere else subconsciously. Gaining strength, healed and comforted.  “I want to release you.” She confirmed with a nod. 

“You want to release Lark.” Katar nodded, only to frown. Her eyes focused onto the scene of Lark with a handful of Kram’s hair. The female bright red and staring intently at Katar. Katar of course felt great. No past injuries to cause her aches and pains, no headache, or sensitivity. Katar was in her prime, all thanks to Kram’s healing.

The thorn leash wrapped around Lark’s arm, and sharply yanked it. Just enough to dislocate it from his torso. Kram was released, Lark squawking in pain, his wings fanning out. In an unfortunate turn of events however, Kram’s arm too, was dislocated. Not from Katar’s doing, but instead due to Kram and Lark being two halves to one whole. The small female made more of a fuss than Lark did, tears bubbling and siding down her cheeks, while Lark simply glared with gritted teeth. Oh he would get her back for this. He knew Katar could be won over with Kram’s power. Which means it could happen again. Next time she wouldn’t be so lucky as to wake up. 

Katar however seem unfazed, watching them both coolly. “So are you two going to keep fighting...? Or do you want me to stop this?” 

Kram replied first, “Stop stop please? B-...be good. We’ll be good!” Lark however was much less dramatic. He wasn’t about to explain they weren’t fighting. He wasn’t going to explain that she’d been manipulated. “Yes. We’re done fighting.” His words were growled darkly. 

“Aaand?” Katar asked sweetly, confusing them both quite easily.

“And?” Lark echoed. 

Katar sighed, “You dumb piece of shit, god fucking damn it. Your sister said she’d be good. Now are you? Or do I need to hurt her more? Or instead of using you for fertility I could always use her. Right. In. Front. Of. You.”

Lark jerked forward, held back by the thorny leash, “Don’t you dare touch her you filthy heathen.” His words were snarled out, like some vicious animal. 

Katar smiled, “Kram. Kiss me. Make sure to look right at your brother.” The Angel’s face went pale, then red, then pale again. Her expression shifting from horror to excited embarrassment to horror again. She had to crawl back onto the couch, prop up on her knees to reach the Huntress’s face. Her kiss was awkward. Kram clearly had no idea what she was doing. Her lips met the Huntress’s and lingered uncomfortably while she glanced at Lark with an expression of ‘help’. 

Katar pulled away, laughing hysterically. While Lark roared in his rage. 

“I’LL KILL YOU. I SWEAR I’LL KILL YOU. DEMONIC BITCH.” 

Kram sat back, rubbing her cheeks as if that would rid her of this horrible blush, curling up silently next to the howling Katar, who might honestly have been crying with laughter. 

“Just say you’ll obey me. Just submit, and this won’t have to happen again.”

There was a pause as Lark opened his mouth to cuss the woman out- but Kram spoke up, soft, and gentle. “Lark..”

He stopped and sighed, bowing his head. “I.... submit. I will...mgh...obey...and be... .... .... a ..... good..... ...... nnngh.... ..... boy.” It clearly took him a lot of effort to say this. 

“Fabulous.” Katar perked up in a moments notice with a bright smile, “You’ll love it here. There’s a shopping list in the kitchen. Go get groceries.” 

-Angel AU

[st-str-strangerthingsfic]

Chapter 2: September 1, 1985 First Day of Hawkins Middle

Chapter Selection: [Chapter 1]–-[Chapter 2]--[Chapter 3]--[Chapter 4]--[Chapter5]--[Chapter 6]--[Chapter 7]--[Chapter 8]

El’s eyes shot open that morning at 7am. She rushed out of her room and into the kitchen where Hopper was groggily cooking eggs and bacon, a cigarette clenched between his lips humming along to the Jim Crow vinyl he had playing softly in the background.

El bounded into the kitchen and whipped open the freezer grabbing a box of eggos. It should be noted that the majority of the freezer was filled, overflowing rather, with boxes of eggos and few TV dinners. She pulled two frozen eggos and popped them into the toaster, staring into the slots as they glowed red and orange.

“Hey kid, I was making—,” Hopper protested before the eggos popped up from the toaster and El juggled them between her hands.

At the Wheeler’s, Mike was hovering over the toaster too, plate ready as Mrs. Wheeler packed his lunch chirping about how exciting the first day of 8th grade was going to be, how she couldn’t believe, and how she was so proud, so proud! Mike tapped his fingers impatiently. He wanted to bike to school early so he would for sure be there when El arrived. He wasn’t taking any chances with Hopper’s new school rules. Who knows what he would do if he didn’t see any of the party there waiting to receive El. He might just take El back home and lock her away until January.

Once the eggos popped, he yanked them from the toaster, swearing a little too loudly.

“Michael!” Mrs. Wheeler closed her eyes as if in pain from the shock of those words.

“Sorry! It’s just hot, jeez.” He walked the plate to the kitchen table and proceeded to eat as fast as humanly possible and downed his orange juice in three hefty gulps.

“Slow down son, you don’t want to call the play before it’s even started,” Mr. Wheeler droned unenthusiastically. Mike rolled his eyes and rushed his plate and cup to the sink.

“I promised I’d meet the party early before school started. We’re hammering out details for the AV club schedule.” It was almost too easy to lie to his parents now, but for some reason it didn’t ever make him feel that bad.

“Okay! But just let me get a picture before you go!” Mrs. Wheeler begged as she dug in the kitchen drawer for their camera.

“Mom NO!” Mike scurried to the front door cramming his feet into his sneakers and slinging his backpack over his blue and red striped t-shirt. The summer heat wouldn’t wear off until late October.

“Michael Wheeler, WAIT!” He could hear her clicking down the hallway. He ripped open the front door and crashed into the garage pulling his bike free and throwing a leg over just as she reached the front door.

“Sorry Mom I have to go!” He shot off down the street. Mrs. Wheeler, exacerbated, lifted the camera and snapped a shot of his retreating figure down the street. Her eyes went wide “Michael! Your lunch!” but he was already around the bend and out of their cul-de-sac.

“Okay you ready? One, two, three—cheeeee-eese!” Hopper hunched over, awkwardly holding the camera between his thick fingers, the shutter closing with a crash over El’s glittering grin.

“Cheeese!” she was positively oozing happiness and excitement. After breakfast, she spent most of her morning packing and then repacking her backpack. She chose her favorite outfit: tattered bell-bottomed jeans, her new white converse (a special splurge from Hopper), a light green t-shirt with white lining the sleeves and neckline, with a black, long-sleeve plaid tied around her waist. She’d carefully combed through her curls, making sure not to pull them apart too much and make them frizzy. She tied the orange and yellow friendship bracelet Max had made her that summer next to the blue hair band from Hopper. On her opposite wrist, she carefully tied the bracelet Mike had made her: dark blue, light grey, forest green with a heart charm embedded at the center. Lucas had suggested that she bring a picture to hang in her locker to help decorate it, so she chose her favorites from her amassed pile of film laying scattered in her desk drawer: A group picture of the whole party standing in front of the arcade, arms slung lazily over each others shoulders, mouths open and laughing; Max and El sitting on the sidewalk in shorts and sandals, too-big sunglasses eclipsing their face as they distractedly sucked on bright red popsicles; and lastly, she and Mike caught with bright smiles, faces so close together that their cheeks were touching, their curls mingling with one another’s.

She zipped her backpack after carefully placing the photos inside of a notebook.

Now, face close to the window in Hopper’s truck, she bounced with excitement as the school came into view. “Here we go.” Hopper whispered under his breath. She glanced over and gave him a reassuring smile.

Buses had started arriving with school children pouring from them crowding the green space in front of the school. Kids were embracing and shouting at friends across the lawn, re-animating friendships forgotten from the summer. El scanned the open area for the bike racks where Mike told her they’d meet her. Sure enough, most of the party had parked their bikes and were laughing and prodding one another, waiting just for her. Mike’s face surveyed the drop-off line for a sign of Hopper’s truck. Finally he spotted it and waved frantically.

“She’s here!” he yelled over his shoulder to everyone. El was practically leaping from the front seat, grabbing her lunch box and being pulled back to lean over the seat for some last parting words from Hopper: “Remember the rules.” He warned her. She nodded and shut the door halfway through a chide of “Be SAFE!” Pulling the straps across her shoulders she started walking down the path toward the bike racks, making a beeline for Mike. She was buffeted by the crowd of distracted, excited children. Girls and boys bumped into and shouldered her making direct paths to friends. A boy unexpectedly yelled across her face, startling her, as he tried to hail a friend. Mike pursed his lips and jogged forward to meet her halfway. He linked his arm through hers and pulled her along, navigating and dodging through the throng of middle schoolers.

“You okay?” he asked checking for signs of concern on her face. El recovered quickly, smiling enjoying the feeling of Mike’s arm looped through hers. She tightened her grip a little and Mike smiled reassuringly.

“El! You made it! Welcome to Hawkins Middle, or as I like to affectionately title it ‘The Hellscape that is my Current existence.’ Assholes. As far as the eye can see!” Dustin held out an arm and waved it across him indicating the lawn of kids. Rule #4 already broken. Lucas hissed and punched Dustin:

“It’s JANE, dumbASS,” he reminded, putting extra emphasis on the ‘ass’. Dustin cursed an apology and looked around to make sure no one had heard.

“It’s not that bad.” Max retorted, just arriving and kicking her skateboard up into her hand.

“Speak for yourself,” Will lamented as a group of boys walked past throwing out a new variety of insults they had perfected over the summer months.

“Come on, let’s get to our lockers. You all have English first period with Sanders, yeah?” Mike reached for El’s lunch box and started guiding the party toward the main double doors leading down the main drag of Hawkins Middle, flanked on either side with lockers muted in color.

Mike had scoped out the location and proximity of his locker to El’s one summer day when the boys had snuck into Hawkin’s middle to use the Heathkit. He walked her to her locker and showed her how to unlock it with the combination. She watched intently and then when the locker popped open she could hardly contain her squeal of delight. Mike let out a soft laugh, so happy to see her getting to just be a kid like the rest of them and experiencing all of it for the first time with him. He put her lunch box in the empty space.

“You can put notebooks that you don’t need right away for your next class in there and your text books and stuff.”

“Oh! I brought these. Mike hold this.” She yanked off her backpack and placed it in Mike’s extended palms, unzipping and pulling out the pictures. She gently shoved each one into the metal sides of the locker door, Mike reaching just over her head to secure them a little more in place when they slipped some. She stood back and smiled.

“Looks nice!” Mike beamed, his eyes resting on the picture of the two of them. El turned back to him and proceeded to unload some of the contents of her backpack. When the first bell rang, El jumped at the sound. She slammed her locker door shut and Mike helped her to get her backpack on. The rest of the party scurried over to her.

“Wait here, I’m just going to run to my locker really quick.” His hand left El’s arm and slid down across her hand as he took off jogging down the length of the hall. She could just see him over the crowd of bobbing heads, quickly fumbling with his locker—he was taller than most of the middle schoolers she noticed. Lucas wasn’t far behind him in height though.

“Mike HURRY UP WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE AND I’M NOT GOING TO GET A TARDY BECAUSE YOU HAVE AWFUL TIME MANAGEMENT” Dustin screamed over the crowd. They gave him cringing looks as they walked past. He followed a couple of aghast passing faces with a grin saying, “Hi, Nice to see yah, welcome back, this is my hell.”

Mike rushed back, coming to sliding halt into El’s side, an arm wrapped around her waist expertly.

“K. Let’s jet.” He pulled her along through the crowd. The party walked in front, forming almost a shield that forced the other kids to walk around the couple behind them. El glanced up a couple of times at Mike’s face as he volleyed in and out of conversation with the party ahead of them. She didn’t want to mention the rising butterflies in her stomach that she could only expect as nervousness. Mike’s hand felt nice though, reassuring gripping her waist, his thumb moving up and down sporadically, almost in a response to her nervous energy.

They crossed the threshold into their English class as Mr. Sanders wrote the class title and his name on the blackboard. Piling into an array of desks surrounding one another, they pulled out notebooks and chattered until the final bell rang and Mr. Sanders turned on cue:

“Alright, alright! Settle down. Settle down. And welcome back. I hope your summers were exceptionally literary. I’m sure you spent it reading and pondering the meaning of life amongst the pages of such visionaries like Thoreau, Shelley, and my personal favorite, Mr. Steven King. Now this is…” As he continued his opening speech, El stared expectantly at the blackboard, eyes trained to Mr. Sanders, attempting to catch anything meaningful. She hastily jotted down the names of authors he named just to be writing something. Her whole body tensed, pulled over her desk, at the ready. Just as Mr. Sanders was beginning to write the syllabus on the board for their first assignment, a small folded piece of paper fell onto her desk.

Mike had dropped it quickly over his shoulder. The front of the folded paper was scrawled with a messy ‘El’ on it. She glanced up at the blackboard, quietly unfolding it and reading the contents:

‘Hi. Just wanted to say, you look great today. And you’re going to do great. Love  Mike’

The ‘love’ was hastily scratched out, but not erased. She smiled and tucked the note into her notebook and started to quickly take notes from the blackboard, letting her muscles relax a little bit and ease back into her chair, releasing her sharp grip on her pencil.

[chikabiddy]

I made a thing, first ever posted fic.

A/N - I made a thing, first ever posted fic. I intend to continue, so I will post more if it is enjoyed. :)          

Logan was perched at the edge of his bed, controller in hand, his phone chimed.

Dick: Dude, u comin 2 the prty

Logan: Not rlly feeln the prty sprt

Dick: Booze n babes. Wth else is thr 2 feel

Logan: Come on, man. U no how it is when daddy dearest is home

Dick: Thght he was in NY

Logan: Got back early for some “bonding”

Dick: All the more reason 2 get out of the house

Logan: Good point

Dick: So?

Logan: I’ll try to make an appearance

           As much as Logan would rather not deal with all his 09er “friends”, Dick did have a point. Getting out of the house, and forget it all wasted, might be just what the night needed. He sighed and shut down his game. He was losing anyway. While grabbing a sweater to throw over his shirt Logan pondered the best way to get father approval on his night out. He doubted “sleepover with Dicky” would grant him any favors. He reached up to pull at the hairs on the back of his head. Maybe his dad would be in a good mood, otherwise he would just have to sneak out and deal with the fallout later. He was getting good at that: dealing with the fallout. He grabbed his phone and headed to his door when a ringtone he never thought he would hear sounded from his phone. He stared at the caller id for a full 5 seconds before he believed what he knew he saw: heartless bitch. Veronica Mars.

           His instinct was to ignore the call. No need to reopen doors better left welded shut. But curiosity, as they say, caused weak willed men to respond to fiery blonds.

           He flipped his phone open, pausing a moment. Not sure what to expect, then went with the trusty usual: “You’d think if hell froze over it would be on the news.”

           She didn’t say anything back, but if he wasn’t mistaken there were the telltale sounds of a scuffle happening. He raised an eyebrow; not something he would have imagined Veronica doing. But, well new Veronica, spikes and leather and combat boots Veronica, he really had no idea. He thought he heard a voice, and he was certain there was some kind of struggle happening. His heart began to quicken. He wanted to say something, anything. He was frozen. What the fuck. This has to be a joke. Logan was just about to hang up, or cuss Veronica out. He hadn’t decided, when he heard it. Definitely a voice, and most definitely not Veronica’s.

**********

Taught muscles reminded Veronica just how long she had crouched, not daring to move. It felt like hours since she last heard the tale-tell sign of boots on pavement, but with adrenaline coursing through her, slowing her mental awareness and ruining her generally keen judgment, who could tell. Thump, thump, thump – the painful sound of blood pounding blocked out her sense of hearing. Between that and the adrenaline, she was running pretty blind.

           Deep breaths. She willed her pulse slower. Thump… thump….. thump. She could almost make out the rushing of traffic. Could she chance movement? Were they lying in wait, ready for her to slip up, show herself? What she needed was an extra set of eyes. An extra set of hands. Can’t call Wallace, his mom would kill me if anything happened to him. Can’t call dad, he’d kill me for getting here. Weevil has helped me out a time or two, yeah. He’s the one to call. But as she thumbed through her contacts she stopped at “L”. Get a grip, Mars. Now way Logan even answers the call. Veronica moved to continue down the when she hears it: definitely footsteps. Her breath catches and her all her muscles tense. But she can feel them burning. If she is caught now she won’t be able to make any kind of quick escape.

           Veronica never really believed in God, but if there is any kind of higher power in the Universe she sure hopes it is listening. The pace of the footsteps quicken; getting louder, nearer. Thump, thump, thump – her blood rushes back to her ears. She squeezes her eyes firmly closed, hoping to focus on the steps. Hoping to predict who it is or whether they have spotted her. Her legs are burning. She wishes she could move, just sit back a little. But any sound, any tiny sound… and the footsteps stop. Far too close for comfort. Move away. Please, just move away.

           Firm fingers clench around her upper arm, forceful and painful. Veronica is yanked from her hiding spot. Her fingers clench around her phone as a scream forces its way up her throat. Calloused hands cover her mouth. She bits down, but the hand grips the pressure points in her jaw. Unwelcome tears stink her eyes.

           “Quite now,” he hisses in her ear. “This could be much more unpleasent.”

           Fear cut off her normal snarky remark. But she was still Veronica Mars. No way was she taking the easy way out. She slammed her elbow where she hoped his solar plexus would be, and found him to be unforgiving. A soft grunt and the hand tightened on her face, cutting off her muffled screams. She saved her breath; she’d need her energy for something else. Think, Veronica. Think! She went limp. Let him drag her a while, it would give her time to prepare an escape.

           “That’s it?” he chuckled. “That’s all the fight the great Veronica Mars has? What pussies.”

           Go ahead, get confident. I’m not even close to done. The guy grunted as he lifted her higher, to wrap his arm around her waist. His other hand slipped a little on her mouth, giving her the chance she needed. She bit down around his finger, hard. Blood pooled into her mouth, but she clung on. He yelled, his arm dropped away from her waist and his hand from mouth. She dropped to the ground, rolled away from him, and scrambled to her feet. Move, Mars. Move. Veronica stumbled forward, only to be pulled back by the same iron hand. Might be my only chance. She screamed, as loud and as hard as she could.

           “Stupid bitch!” He brought his fist down, clocking the side of her temple. The world went dark, and left Veronica lifeless.

********

           Shit, fuck, fuck… What do I even do here. What the fuck. What the FUCK. Logan’s hand tightened around his phone, listening harder, barely breathing. His brain was short circuiting. This is some kind of sick joke. What the fuck Veronica. He stayed silent, still listening, praying he was right. Praying it was a twisted joke from an ex- bestfriend. He heard the voice again:

           “That’s it?” a dark chuckle made his spine tingle. “That’s all the fight the great Veronica Mars has? What pussies.”

           Please, God be a joke. He heard a grunt, then sounds of feet dragging on the ground. Anytime now, Mars. Fuck, be a joke. He heard a yell, and shifting gravel. Veronica let out a scream which stood his hairs on end.

           “Stupid bitch!” A thud, and silence.

           Not again, not again. Veronica. God, no. Not again. The silence chilled him more than anything else.

           “Veronica?” God, please. “Veronica? Veronica!” What do I do? God, fuck. What do I do?

           Logan was a man of action, but this was far beyond school yard scuffles. This was out of his depth. But, Mars… Sheriff Mars. He needed to tell the Sheriff. He sprinted from his room and flew threw the kitchen. He stopped short when he saw his dad at the counter.

           “Logan. It’s late. What are you doing up?”

           “Uh, dad. I, uh. I just got a call from Veronica and she told me she’s in trouble. She, uh, she got stranded. Car ran out of gas. I was just going to pick her up, get her home. You know?”

           “Oh. Well I’m glad to see your looking out for your friends. Just, call when you pick her up and don’t stay out too late.”

           “Yeah, thanks dad. I’ll do that. Uhm, I’ll see you in the morning.”

           Logan practically sprinted to his truck, barely waiting for the engine to start before throwing it into reverse. He wanted to call Veronica, but what if that made it worse. Could it get any worse? He never drove so fast in his life, but he made it. Sheriff Mars would be home. He had to be home. He tried not to pound the door down as he knocked.

           “Sheriff Mars? Are you home? Please, it’s about Veronica,” he didn’t stop knocking, even when it seemed no one was home. “Sheriff?”

           A door to the right opened. “Excuse me, could you keep it down? You’ll wake the whole building.”

           “Please, I’m looking for Sheriff Mars, I think Veronica is in trouble. Do you know where he is?”

           “Well, if he isn’t home he is probably still at work. His PI business in town?”      

           “Do you know where that is?”

           “Downtown. Right across the street from that Chinese place.”

           “I know it, thanks.” Logan rushed back to the Xterra, cursing the lost time. How much time did Veronica have?

           Logan drove down the street, slower than he would like, but he couldn’t risk missing the office. He just hopped he hadn’t missed the Sheriff. Mars Investigations. There it is. He pulled over and jumped from the truck. The light was on in what he hoped was the office, so he took the stairs three at a time. At the top of the stairs was a glass pane Mars Investigations printed in big white lettering. The office door was locked, so he knocked.

           “Sheriff Mars? Are you in there? Please, I think Veronica is in trouble.” Logan called through the door. He heard heavy footsteps move through the office.

Locks clicked open, and the door cracked an inch. “Logan? What about Veronica?”

           “She called me, I think she’s in trouble.”

           The Sheriff ushered him into the office and set him down on an old, dusty couch. He crossed his arms and gave Logan his best Sheriff stare. Logan pulled his sleeves down over his hands and fidgeted with his fingers.

           “I was, uh, not important. I got a call from Veronica, but… it wasn’t normal. She never said anything. And I, um. It sounded like maybe a fight. I think, God, I think I heard her scream.”

           Logan’s legs were moving a mile a minute. He needed to get up, and he needed to now. He jumped to his feet. “Sheriff, I know something happened. Please, you have to believe me. I know she is in trouble, and, I. Shit, uhm. I can show you she called me. Please.” He met the Sheriff’s eyes for the first time since he started talking. Sheriff Mars had lowered his arms, his face gone pale. Logan didn’t know what else to say, he just held his breath, praying the Shariff believed him.

           “Logan, are you sure it was Veronica. Are you sure you heard Veronica?” His voice was off-key, strangled.

           “I, shit, I don’t know. I never heard her speak. But, god, it sounded like her.”

           “She was helping me on a case. Nothing special, some surveillance. Have you tried to call her back?”

           “I… no. I wanted to, but… what if that made it worse? I just, I didn’t…”

           “No, I understand,” Sheriff Mars pulled his phone out and dialed Veronica.

Logan heard it ring twice, then “You’ve reached Veronica…”

“Her phone is off,” the Sheriff pocketed his phone and turned to Logan. “Thank you for coming to me. I’ve got it from here. You head home,” he moved to what Logan assumed was his office and grabbed keys from a drawer.

“Sheriff, I just…” Sheriff Mars moved passed Logan toward the door. “Please, I have to know. I can’t… not again.”

The Sheriff turned to look at him. “Logan. Veronica is not Lilly.”

Logan crumpled and lowered himself to the couch. “Can I… Can I please just wait here? Until you know, until she is back?”

The Sheriffs eyes softened, and he laid a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “You should go home. But, I will call you. As soon as I know.”

[veryangryhedgehog]

“The Personal History of Mr. Lucius Marcell

Part I: In which he acquires a New TA” 

By Hedgehog

There is one sentence that nearly every child grows to loath. The utter hate and disgust behind the specific way these words are phrased becomes so engrained into the very soul that even years later, the mere mention can send shivers running full tilt down the spine. The phrase I am referring to is of course: “So, how was school today?”

See, it worked. Isn’t it funny how four tiny little words can leave such an impact? It may not even be what the sentence implies that causes the body to convulse with revolt: that remembrance of drab halls, graffiti-crusted bathrooms, and the feeling that absolutely no one wants to be there. Rather, I would argue that it is the prospect of actually answering the question at all. How is one supposed to respond? “Absolutely terrible. I’m bored, no one likes me, and I feel very much alone”? Clearly, the truth will not suffice. This merely invites further probing. No, there is only one way to field such a question. Observe.

“So, how was school?” Ms. Miller asked her children from across the rotisserie chicken that she had purchased from the supermarket earlier that evening. When no one responded—Mike taking a massive bite out of a leg to keep his mouth busy while Cindy looked down at her plate—she let out a small huff of indignation and glared at each of them in turn. “Cynthia?” She dug.

Said teenage daughter shrugged in response. “Fine,” she said.

“Just ‘fine’?” her mother asked. “Honey, it’s your first day of senior year, the best year of your life.”

“Sure. Whatever.” Cindy turned back to her food. The last time she’d given half a damn about school had been a full two years ago. Sophomore Cynthia had been a straight A, 4.0 student, a two-time runner up at state for track, and president of the student council. One nervous breakdown later, and here she was: a B average student with not a lot else to do. What had triggered such a breakdown of her essential personality? Stress mostly, but it didn’t really matter. The point was that she was over her delusions of grandeur and overall a much better person. At least she thought so.

Ms. Miller pouted once she realized that she was getting nothing else out of the older child, but quickly turned to her son instead. “Mike?” she asked. “How about you?”

Sure he would reply much the same way as she had, so that the interrogation could end and they could get on with their lives, Cindy turned her thoughts elsewhere. Needless to say, it took her a second to get over her brain fart when Mike said something completely unexpected.

“It was...” he began. “Kinda weird.”

Mike no! The inside of her head screamed. You were the chosen one! You’ve doomed us all!

Looking pleased, Ms. Miller proceeded with her questioning. “Weird?” she tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” he began, “it was all pretty normal, but then after lunch I had—” Mike paused for a split second, narrowing his eyes slightly as if he didn’t quite believe what he had seen. “I had history with that Marcell guy.”

If there had been one word to bring her out of her blue screen of death and into a whole other level of panic, it was that one. Cindy stared a hole into her brother, trying to telepathically yell at him to stop talking.

But it was much too late. “Cynthia,” her mother turned back to her, “didn’t you have Mr. Marcell when you were a sophomore?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “He’s a little... eccentric.”

Mike opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again just as quickly. It appeared he had come to the same conclusion as Cindy had two years ago. The thought had just taken a little longer to pierce his skull. It was simple really: if he told his mother about Marcell, she would never believe him. Not about the darkened room due to his “rare skin condition”, not about the unit on Atlantis, and least of all about his habit of yelling at the textbook whenever it disagreed with him.

Marcell had rarely been mean, and never creepy, but he was kind of a weirdo. Except you never came upon this revelation until after the fact. When you were in his classroom, you were the weirdo. At least, that’s what it had always felt like to Cindy, though that could have just been sophomore Cynthia’s appalling lack of self-esteem.

The rest of dinner passed quickly enough; the courtroom adjourned once Ms. Miller realized that neither of her children really wanted to talk about Marcell and his odd demeanor, and Cindy nearly forgot about the whole thing. She had essays to write, and more importantly, time to waste on the internet.

So, it was almost unexpected when she got the text from Mike the next day in the middle of sixth period: Might have left my lunchbox in Marcells. But hes really creepy. Will u plz get it for me? Ill do ur chores for a month!!! And this was the captain of the sophomore soccer team. What a little wuss. But the offer was tempting. She hated cleaning the toilet.

2 and uve got urself a deal, she typed back under the desk.

There was a long pause, and then the answer came. Fine. Thx!

Cindy groaned. She never imagined ever having to set foot in that classroom again. The space still seemed to exist on an entirely different plane of existence, one filled with AP tests and sore feet from hours of running, stress about grades and boys you didn’t really like. Yet far too soon, the final bell rang and she found herself making her way down that old, familiar hallway, procrastinating in any way she could.

And then, suddenly and without warning, she was at the door. It was ajar, and beyond it lay the soft blue of not-quite darkness. Peering inside, the classroom seemed empty, and Cindy’s eyes darted back and forth before landing on the red lunchbox that sat on the dirty tile floor, just beside the hard seat of a desk.

She darted in, intending to snatch the lunchbox and make a quick escape, but the instant her fingers brushed the handle of the lunchbox, she froze.

“That’s not yours, is it,” said a voice. It was not a question.

Firmly gripping the box, Cindy turned to find a figure sitting with his feet propped on the teacher’s desk, smirking. Ah yes, she’d nearly forgotten about his habit of appearing out of nowhere when you weren’t looking. This time, she was sure he hadn’t been there a second before.

“It’s my brother’s,” she attempted an innocent smile.

He didn’t seem to recognize her. It had been two years, after all, and she had changed a lot since then. “So he chickens out and makes you get it, huh? I didn’t think I was quite that terrifying.” He laughed, sitting up now. “Which one is he?”

“Mike Miller,” she sighed. “And I think he thought since I survived a whole year with you...”

Marcell frowned, eyebrows knitted closely as he held up a finger. “You took my class?” He asked. “Miller... Miller... wait!” He finally remembered, then shook his head. “No. Cynthia?” His brown, almost red eyes widened incredulously.

She nodded, embarrassed. “Though most people call me Cindy these days, if they bother to talk to me at all.”

“You’ve certainly changed.” He stood from the swivel chair and leaned against the front of the desk. “You cut your hair.”

“And that’s the first thing you notice?” she laughed, shaking her head.

“Of course,” he said. “You had the very distinct habit of flipping it to the side when you were about to start arguing with me.”

Cindy felt herself blush a little. She had been such a little bitch. “I probably wasn’t the most pleasant student.”

“On the contrary,” he countered, “it was certainly better than the silence I get from most kids. At least you kept me on my toes.”

“I just couldn’t believe you were teaching a whole unit on a city that doesn’t exist.”

“Ah,” he grinned, revealing sharp, white teeth. “Atlantis.”

“Which I will never forget was actually a city on the lost continent of Lemuria, thank you very much.”

Marcell crossed his arms over his chest. “Was it that strange?” He seemed bemused.

“It wasn’t strange, it was just...” she shook her head, “different. You were different.”

A moment of silence ensued, in which Marcell seemed to be considering something.

“Well,” Cindy shook herself. “I should get going.” She waved, turning to leave. “It was nice talking to—“

“Would you like to know why?” He asked suddenly, the final syllable seeming to float around the room. “Why I’m so... different, as you put it.” He added when she paused.

A second passed, then two. Then five. Cindy wasn’t really thinking about what she would say, it was just that she never expected the offer to just suddenly give up all the secrets that made him eccentric Mr. Marcell. She’d tried the whole year to figure out his deal, and now he was just going to tell her?

“Yes,” she said finally, definitely, turning back towards him.

“What if I told you I was two-thousand years old?” he asked, face completely straight. “Would you say I was crazy?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’d say you were pulling my leg.”

“Then I don’t suppose it’d be any more plausible if I were a two-thousand year-old vampire.”

“Absolutely not.”

Marcell sighed, looking positively done. “I’m a two-thousand year-old vampire.”

“Uh huh.”

“I know most people think we’re only legends, and more recently, fictional teen heart-throbs.” He ran through the line as if he had rehearsed it many times. “But—“

“Don’t get me wrong.” Cindy interrupted, to which he looked surprised. “It’s not that I don’t believe vampires exist, I just find it hard to believe that my mild-mannered history teacher is a ‘creature of the night’.”

He blinked. “That was... not the response I was expecting.”

“Welcome to Ede Valley,” she chuckled, approaching the far window that somehow managed to be even more broken than when she’d last seen it. “Where we’re all just a little bit... strange.” On the last word she yanked the chain, which miraculously pulled up the shade just enough that the fading light from outside landed on Marcell’s face.

He seemed merely miffed as smoke began to rise from his nose and the tips of his ears.

Nodding, satisfied, Cindy shut the shade and strode back across the room, grabbing a loose chair and plopping it in front of Marcell’s desk. “Alright,” she said. “I believe you.”

“You know that could’ve killed me, right?” He attempted to frown, though the corners of his mouth twitched upwards.

She waved the question off. “You would have stopped me first.” Glancing back at him, Cindy put her chin in her hands and waited. They sat like that for a solid minute as the clock ticked quietly in the corner. “So, are you gonna tell me or what?” she asked finally.

“What?” He replied.

“How it happened, how you became a ‘Creature of the Night’” she gestured sarcastically. “Well you can’t just tell me you’re a vampire and then leave me hanging like that.”

Marcell looked a little surprised. “You really want me to tell you? It’s... a long story. Don’t you have student council or track or something?”

“Nah, I quit both of those a long time ago,” she shook her head. “I’ve got nowhere to be. So spill. Just who are you, Marcell?”

“Where to begin...?” Marcell sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

Cindy sat back. “How about at the beginning. That’s where stories usually start, right?”

“The beginning...” He nodded slowly. “Now that was a very long time ago.” He took another deep breath, and Cindy waiting patiently for him to begin,

“I was born in 67 BCE, in Britain. Of course, it was usually referred to as Albion back then.”

“Wait, wait,” Cindy interrupted. “67 BCE? You’re telling me you’re sixty-seven years older than Jesus.”

“Yes,” he said, a little impatiently. “Now do you want to hear or not?”

Cindy stuck her hands up in surrender, and Marcell continued.

“I lived in a small village near the coast, up on the top of a series of hills. My uncle was the Smith, at that time a highly secretive and valued trade, so my life was more comfortable than most. We had three rooms in our hovel.” He had to pause as Cindy chuckled.

“But anyway, my father, uncle, brother, and I all lived in a small house. Well I say house, it was more like a hut than anything. Thatch roof, walls that could blow over with a slight breeze, the works.”

“What about your mother?” Cindy asked.

Marcell smiled, though the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. “She died shortly after my brother was born, which was a sadly common occurrence in those days.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He shook his head. “I don’t remember her. And there wasn’t really time to think about things like that. My brother was learning to be a Smith under my uncle, so it was up to my father and me to put food on the table. I remember the old woods, so filled with spirits and gods, the only sound the bending of my bow. Those were... carefree times.”

“And something tells me they didn’t last,” Cindy said.

Marcell nodded. “One morning, while my father and I were hunting near the beach, we heard something strange: voices. But they weren’t speaking in any tongue that we knew. Cautiously, we peered out from the trees to see a whole battalion of men with tan skin and golden, shining armor. ‘Who were they?’ We wondered. ‘Where had they come from?’ Then we saw their boats, though we weren’t sure if we could even call them that. They were enormous, towering over the men on the beach, more like dragons than vessels with which to tame the water. That was when we realized that they must have come from over the ocean.”

“Who were they?” Cindy asked, leaning forward.

“The Romans, of course. Didn’t you pay any attention in my class? The Romans invaded the southern tip of Britain in 55 BCE.”

Blinking, Cindy shook her head. “Oh, right. I remember. Sorry, it’s just hard to connect you and... 55 BCE. Anyway, keep going.”

“And then...” Marcell winced, as if he was watching a character in a book or a movie about to make a horrible mistake. “Just when we were about to turn around and get out of there, I stepped on a branch, the loudest branch in the world, it seemed. And the Romans heard. They turned towards the woods, looking for us. I remember my father gripping my shoulder so tightly, his eyes wide. These men were clearly warriors, with thick armor and sharp spears. We didn’t know what they would do if they found us.

“One of them called something to the trees in their strange language. At the time I thought he was probably asking if anyone was there. I thought we were safe. But a second later, another Roman called in response from directly behind me, and I felt a spear tip poking at my back. The Romans were in the woods as well.

“My father leaned over to me and whispered: ‘Run. Get back to the village, get your uncle.’ I paused, frozen in fear as the Roman began to prod us towards the beach. But my father had given me an order, you didn’t disobey your elders in those days. I nodded, just enough for him to see, and without warning the Roman, turned and streaked back through the trees.

“From behind me came shouting, and then the crash of an army running through the woods. I panicked a little then. They were following me. There was no way I could outrun full grown warriors. But I knew the forest far better than they did, and within a few minutes, I had reached the village.”

“Hold on,” Cindy interrupted. “I don’t mean to question your father, but isn’t it a terrible idea to lead your enemy back to your village?”

Marcell nodded, thinking for a second. “By modern, or even Roman standards, maybe, but you have to understand that back then, the people of Britain weren’t so much kingdoms or even cities as tribes. We hadn’t experienced the art of organized warfare before. Everyone over the age of ten knew how to wield a sword, so leading a raid of disorganized warriors back to your village meant you’d probably outnumber them and probably win. But we were not prepared for the Romans.

“As soon as the first huts appeared through the trees, I began to shout. ‘Help! Help! Uncle, anyone! There’s a raid!’

“Of course, as soon as they heard this, the people of the village, men, women, anyone who could fight began grabbing weapons. My uncle ran out of his workshop and grabbed me by the shoulders. ‘Who is it?’ He demanded, shaking me so much I could barely talk.

“‘I don’t know,’ I shouted over the growing confusion. ‘Strangers, from over the sea!’

“But I didn’t have time to say more, because by then the first of the Romans were emerging from the trees.”

“And you fought back, right?” Cindy asked.

Marcell nodded. “Of course we did. Killed a few, too. I remember hitting one of them, a boy who couldn’t have been much older than I was, square between the eyes with an arrow. The blood just poured down his face before his eyes crossed and he collapsed, almost on top of me. But...” He sighed, looking off to the far wall. “We were slaughtered.

“See, whenever we had warred with our neighbors, the battles had been relatively small, but uncontrolled. The easiest thing was to let the warriors go wild and rely on numbers to win. But the Romans had strategy, formations and the like. They didn’t act as a jumbled mess of warriors but as a single unit.

“Though we fought valiantly, once my uncle, our leader, was killed with a spear to the chest, it was all over. The Romans cut through almost all of us, I watched my brother die right in front of me, and I almost followed him. My bow had been broken in the confusion, and as my eyes were glued upon the still body of my brother, his killer raised a sword to kill me too. But then, another soldier, an older man with watery, blue eyes, put a hand on his shoulder and said something to him.

“I didn’t know the words, but they stuck with me until I eventually learned what they meant.”

Cindy raised an eyebrow in question.

“‘Nonne huic,’ he said. ‘Not this one.’”

“Not this one...” Cindy repeated under her breath, thinking. “Wait. Didn’t you tell us that the Romans enslaved the people they conquered? The one’s they didn’t kill, at least?”

Nodding, Marcell smiled. But he was not happy. “That is correct.”

“So this Roman man spared you because he thought you would make a good slave?” Cindy’s heart dropped a little as Marcell nodded again, and then a little more as he held up his arm, and Cindy could see a faint, red discolored line running around his wrist that she’d never noticed before. “Why you?” She asked, her voice suddenly very small. “What made you special?”

“I have an idea,” Marcell admitted. “But he never told me himself.

“More importantly,” he continued, “that was the first time I saw her.”

“Her?” Cindy frowned, confused.

“In the old Celtic tradition, there are many legends of the Morrigan, the goddess of death. She is said to appear on the greatest battlefields, driving men to madness with her laughter. And there, right as the Roman raised his sword to end my life, there she was, skin pale as death and cloak of crow feathers blowing in the breeze as she guided his hand. At least until the blue-eyed Roman stopped him. I blinked, and the Morrigan was gone. For years afterward, I thought I had been seeing things.”

“But you weren’t, were you?” Leaning forward, Cindy’s eyes narrowed. Part of her remained skeptical, but she of all people knew that there were strange things in this world.

Marcell tilted his head, surprised. “What makes you say that?”

“Because you wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise.”

“Very astute.” He nodded. “I’ll come to that later.

“After the battle, almost everyone I knew and loved was dead. There were maybe four or five of us left, mostly young, the leftovers who for whatever reason hadn’t been killed outright. I think one of us fought, but I was so numb and confused that I don’t remember that much after that.

“The Romans dragged us back through the forest, all of us tied together by one long rope. But reaching the beach only numbed my head more when I saw my father lying in a bloody pile at the edge of the woods. I should have felt sad or angry but I just felt... nothing. None of it seemed real to me. I let the blue-eyed Roman guide me onto one of their huge boats and into the dark below with all the rowers.

"It wasn't until they actually started rowing that I realized what was happening. They were sailing away, back across the ocean, and were taking me with them. That was when I finally broke out of my trance and started screaming: ‘Stop! Turn the boat around! I want to go home!’ But of course no one could understand me. This was the first time the Romans had ever been to Britain, mind you.

“I started tugging at the pole that I was tied to once a few of the Romans came down to see what was happening. The blood dripped down my arms, but I was too focused on the Roman who carried a whip. He had a particularly cruel look in his eyes, and didn’t look afraid to use the rope in his hands. But once again, the blue-eyed Roman stopped him simply by putting up a hand.

“He approached me, saying a lot of words that didn’t make sense. ‘I want to go home,’ I cried, but he didn’t understand. ‘Please, let me go home.’ He just shook his head. Then his voice rumbled again, steady and low. I couldn’t tell what the words were but the tone quieted me.

“As I continued to cry he wrapped his arms around me. Of course, in any other circumstance this would have frightened me more. He was a complete stranger, after all. But I had just lost everything, and whether he be the cause or not, the tears kept coming and I didn’t back away.”

Cindy shook her head. “Man,” she said. “What was this guy’s deal?”        

“You’ll see soon enough,” Marcell adjusted in his chair, and continued.

“The journey was many weeks, but it could have been forever for all I knew. The blue-eyed Roman often came down to see me, and eventually convinced the slaver, the one with the whip, to untie me from the pole so my wounds would heal. Gradually, as he talked, I began to pick up some of his words. Tempestas for storm, navis for boat. Tu for you and ego for I. Eventually, I learned that his name was Gaius Marcellus.”

“Wait,” Cindy interrupted. “Marcellus? But isn’t your name—?”

“I’ll get to that,” he intoned. “Don’t you have any sense of dramatic timing? Anyway, now I knew his name, but as soon as I told him mine, he just shook his head. From what I could grasp of what he was saying, my name was... well, bad. It wasn’t Roman. Non Romani est. I needed a new name. A Roman name.”

“So this guy took everything from you, and now he was taking your name too?” Cindy asked. “Weren’t you angry?”

Marcell thought for a second. “A little, I suppose. But keep in mind that I was unarmed, trapped in a small space with strangers who didn’t speak my language. I was far too scared to argue. This man could kill me if he wanted. So when he patted me on the head and said: ‘Your name is now Lucius,’ there wasn’t much I could do about it. It sounded a little like my name, I suppose. He got the ‘Lugh’ right at the very least. He and everyone else on the ship began to call me that, and eventually I started to respond to it.

“I can’t remember how long we were at sea, I think at one point or another I lost track of the days. But one day, I felt the ship stop. I had almost forgotten what it was like to not be jostled around by the waves at every moment. Though I felt fear rising in my throat as I wondered just what would great me outside of the ship, I almost didn’t have to time to be properly scared, for just then, the slave master came and began to parade us onto the deck.

“The air outside felt more thick and heavy than it should have been, and the light seemed almost... brighter, more stark than back home. I immediately hated it. The slave master began to force us done the gangplank and onto the dock below, but held out his stick when he got to me. ‘Not you,’ was what I think he said. ‘You with Marcellus.’”

“The blue-eyed Roman?” Cindy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “He bought you?”

“Yes,” Marcell nodded. “Is something the matter?”

She shook her head. “It’s just... hard for me to imagine. Buying another human being, I mean, renaming him at your whim like some kind of pet. And you... you talk about it so casually, like it’s nothing.”

“In principle, I can see how appalling it would seem to you,” Marcell nodded slowly. “But in practice, being a slave in Rome was... very different from what you’re familiar with.”

“How so?”

“Some were treated cruelly, I suppose, those with harsh or uncaring masters, but for most a slave was almost... part of the family. It sounds strange, I know,” he laughed. “But we were provided room and board in exchange for work, allowed to have families, and routinely freed when we were too old to do the work we had been bought for.”

Cindy’s face still remained scrunched in confusion.

“I’m not trying to defend slavery. A slave is still a slave, after all. But in Rome, it often wasn’t the worst position to be in.”

“Okay,” she nodded slowly. “I think I understand. What happened then?”

"I waited a few minutes before Gaius came over. He placed a small bag of coins in the slaver’s hands and led me away. We plodded down the gangplank, landing on the bustling dock below. I stayed close to him. I’d never seen so many people in one place before. He kept a hand on my shoulder as he guided me into the strange city.

“We went in the opposite direction than the rest of the slaves, and I looked over my shoulder, wondering where they were going. Though if I was honest, I didn’t think I wanted to know.”

“So was this Rome?” Cindy asked.

“No, no,” Marcell waved her off. “Rome was about two hours inland, along the Tiber River. This was Ostia, a small port on the coast. It was a rather small town at the time, but for me it was massive. There were people everywhere, flooding the paved streets, and the buildings seemed to tower over me, like they were trying to close me in.”

“You’d never been to a town before,” Cindy realized, her eyes widening slightly.

Marcell nodded. “I almost froze up, but Gaius was... very understanding. He led me through the town quickly and to a wagon that was waiting for us. I did know what this was.” He smiled wryly. “Gaius pointed at me and then at the wagon and I obeyed, climbing into the back.

“The journey through the countryside was... hard, to say the least. It was the first vaguely familiar sight I had seen in weeks, the rolling hills and green trees were a little comforting, but I couldn’t help thinking that with every turn of the wheels I was getting further and further away from home. I didn’t cry, though I wanted to, and there was this twisting, knotted feeling in my gut that would not go away.

“Eventually the wagon came to a stop, and looking up, I saw an enormous house with farmland and several other buildings surrounding it. We had arrived at Gaius’ villa.”

“So you didn’t go to Rome at all, then?”

“No, not just then.” Marcell shook his head. “And that was probably for the best. Remember how I had reacted seeing a town as small as Ostia. There were at least half a million people in the city of Rome at that time. But anyway, Gaius was not a rich man by any means, but he did have a villa about a day’s distance from Rome that provided an income from the farm, and a townhouse in Rome itself for festivals and events.

“At first I was confused. The very concept of such a big house for only one person was something that I’d never really heard of. Gaius didn’t have to go hunt for his food, there was just masses of it stored in the kitchen, and there was no need to fear wolves or other predators, for there were none there anymore.

“However, I adjusted fairly quickly. I think it is... easier for children to accept new things for what they are than adults. Gaius taught me enough Latin to get by, and I picked up quite a bit more from the other slaves. Within a year I was almost fluent in Latin, in another I had completely mastered it.”

Cindy blinked. “Wow. That was fast.”

“It was by necessity.” Marcell shrugged. “That was the one common language everyone spoke at the villa, and I had always been good at remembering things. Later, I would learn that I have a particular skill for languages. Gaius must have been impressed, for I quickly became his... I guess ‘Personal Assistant’ is the best way to put it. If he needed a letter written, I transcribed his words. If he needed to remember something, I remembered it for him.”

“That must have been horrible,” Cindy said, shuddering a bit.

Marcell tilted his head, looking genuinely confused. “How so?”

“Well, you were taking direct orders from... uh, the man w-who destroyed your life,” Cindy frowned. “Didn’t that make you, like, angry?”

“Perhaps a little at first.” Marcell nodded slowly. “There were several times I thought about killing him; it’s probably what my family would have wanted. Revenge for their deaths. But, well... I wouldn’t say I loved the man, but I respected him.

“And I learned a lot about him. Gaius was a career soldier, finally just nearing the age of retirement. He’d had a family, a wife and son, but they had both died of plague when he had been on a campaign. Though he never really talked about it, I could tell that he missed them dearly. In that way I also learned possibly why he’d chosen me to save. One day, I found a drawing of his son, and—“

“Let me guess,” Cindy interrupted. “He looked just like you.”

Marcell laughed. “Not exactly, but yes, the resemblance was there. So you see why I couldn’t bring myself to just kill him. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I was quickly ‘Romanized’, as we call it today. I enjoyed the easy, new life I was living. Yes, there was a long period of time where I missed the peaceful forests and old hut with my family inside desperately, but I buried that quickly. I think the books helped a lot.”

“Books?”

“Yes, Gaius had a large library in his villa. Sure, we had had stories and legends back in Britannia, but we had never written anything down. So whenever I wasn’t assisting Gaius I was down in the library, reading whatever scrolls I could get my hands on. It was a wonderful distraction, but I think the act of learning also excited me to no end.

“And that was how it was for... oh, eight years. I read books, assisted Gaius, and even accompanied him to Rome several times. Eventually I began to feel more like some sort of weird nephew than a slave. The man was... kind to me.”

“But...” Cindy leaned forward.

The darkness of the room almost seemed to grow a little deeper as the smile shrunk from Marcell’s face. “But of course, nothing good lasts forever.” He nodded.

“I was about twenty when I met her for the second time.”

“The second—? Are you talking about—?” Cindy began.

“The Morrigan?” He asked as she shifted in her seat. “Gaius was sick. He was getting old—it was a small miracle for anyone to live much past sixty at that time—and the last year hadn’t been kind to him. He’d been ill on and off for that time, but had just recently taken a turn for the worst. I was outside, getting some air, when I caught sight of the crow-feathered cloak walking down the road towards me.”

Cindy smirked a little. “What, she wasn’t flying or cackling or anything?”

“No,” Marcell laughed. “Just walking. I remember being frozen in place, unable to even breathe. Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “I was not really scared of death, just simply in awe. She seemed so powerful, so alien, like she was something not of this earth. She was death, she held humanity’s life in her hands, and could snuff it out at any moment.

“She stopped a short distance away from me. I squinted, trying to get a view under the wide, dark hood. She said nothing, just stared back at me.

“‘You’ve come for Gaius, haven’t you?’ I asked, and the hood nodded slowly. ‘What happens if I stand in your way?’

“From under the hood came laughter. It was hard, and so cold I physically shivered. ‘I remember you, boy’ she whispered. Her voice was surprisingly smooth, steady. ‘You’ve evaded me once before. Do you think you could do it again?’

“‘I don’t know,’ was all I managed to get out, my throat constricted by the cold the Morrigan emanated.

“‘Come closer, boy,’ she held out a hand, and I began to walk towards her without meaning to. She finally let me stop about a foot away from her. Then she lowered the hood to look at me, and I flinched. She was beautiful, her skin a pale porcelain, her hair black as night and wild. But her eyes... they were clouded, dead. Like a blind woman, or a corpse.

“She chuckled as she saw my reaction. ‘Surprising,’ she said, her blue lips parting, ‘you haven’t even screamed yet. Think you’re brave?’

“I shook my head. From all of the stories I’d heard, it was never a good idea to brag to a goddess, especially the goddess of death.

“‘But you won’t step aside? You Britons are always so stubborn. Oh, but you’re not a Briton anymore, are you?’

“I looked away, down towards the dirt. What she said was true: I was not a Briton. I bore a Roman name and had a Roman master. But I myself didn’t feel like a Roman. I had never cared about the dictators and the wars and the politics. So what did I care about? This villa, and all of the books inside. Gaius, and all the slaves who worked for him. What would happen to them if he died? What would happen to me?

“‘No,’ I replied firmly. ‘I will not step aside.’

“Her expression was icy, the smile falling off her face. Keep in mind,” he added as he saw Cindy’s confused face, “that gods are not like you and I. They are ageless, all-powerful, and used to getting their way. You do not stand in their way. I probably wasn’t the first human to do so, but those that did were few and far between.

“I blinked, and suddenly her milky eyes were an inch away from mine. ‘Tell me, boy: do you fear death?’

“‘I don’t know,’ I stuttered, though I didn’t really consider the question. I tried not to think about those kinds of things.

“‘Good,’ she grinned. ‘Because now you’ll never truly know.’

“I began to back away slowly, away from the corpse goddess. ‘What do you mean?’

“‘You do know what happens when you cross the gods, yes? I could just kill you now, but that would be too anticlimactic for my tastes. So if you won’t let me take the life of your master, then I’ll make you do it for me.’”

“What?” Cindy blinked.

“That’s exactly what I said,” Marcell nodded grimly. “But I didn’t have time to do much of anything else besides, for it was at that moment that she stuck out a long, spindly finger, and touched my chest.

“Suddenly, I felt very cold, emanating from the place where she had touched me and spreading over my limbs like ice. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, my world was filled with the laughter of Death. This was what dying felt like, I was sure of it.

“And then... my heart stopped. Literally. At some point I had fallen to the ground, and everything was still. I had to be dead. There was no other explanation. But then how was I still thinking? I felt nothing but cold. Then I opened my eyes, The Morrigan was gone, and I was alone outside the villa, laying on the hard, dirt ground. For a minute, I thought that maybe I had imagined the whole thing.

But as I felt my chest, I knew that that was just wishful thinking. You see, my heart was as still as... well, death. And the world looked different somehow, like there was a whole new spectrum of shadow that I hadn’t been able to see before. I felt frozen solid, and I grasped at the dirt desperately, trying to find something alive.

“But I stopped. There was something alive, something close. Something... warm. I couldn’t tell what it was, only that it was hot, and red like the sun and I needed it. Blindly, I crawled my way towards the thing, up the stairs and into the villa and...” He broke off and closed his eyes, almost as if he were in physical pain just thinking about it. But there was something else, too, something in the shape of his lips and the shortness of his breath. Cindy came rather abruptly to the realization that she was alone in a room with a predator. And she didn’t like that look that was creeping into his features.

“Mr. Marcell?” She asked finally, unpeeling her heart from the inside of her throat. “Did you... kill Gaius?”

He stared at her for a solid minute before answering, his pupils appearing more red than brown in the low light of the classroom. “I don’t know,” he said. “To this day I don’t know if it was the illness that got to him or...” his breath almost caught in his throat. “Or me.” He took a deep breath, shaking his head.

“These new ‘Teen angst novels,’” he rolled his eyes, “often picture my kind as slaves to our bloodlust. They make us lose control so that we aren’t wholly responsible for our actions. This is... not the reality. We are always in perfect control of ourselves and we know exactly what we’re doing. It’s simply that the hungrier you are, the less you care about artificial constructs like morals, the more you become like an intelligent animal.

“And the Morrigan had sapped all of that from my body. I raced through the villa, half man and half mist, and into Gaius’ sickroom. And there was the source of what had attracted me so. Gaius’ fever, his blood pumping so fiercely in an effort to keep him alive. Without thought, or hesitation, I tore the skin of his inner arm with my teeth and drank furiously.

“He hardly made a sound, just a soft whimper, and I barely noticed anyway. I could feel the coldness of my dead body being driven away by the blood, the life I was taking from him. That,” he sighed. “That was the point of no return.”

“What do you mean?” Cindy barely managed to squeak out.

“My... transformation, I guess you could say, didn’t really begin until I first tasted blood.”

“So if you could have, I guess, resisted, would you have—?” Cindy began, before Marcell cut her off.

“Have gone back to normal?” He asked. “I doubt it. My heart had ceased to beat. If I hadn’t taken the life of another, I probably would have just died. The gods are not kind, after all.”

He began to stare into the distance again, but Cindy couldn’t wait any longer. “And then what happened?”

“Then,” Marcell shook himself. “Then I stumbled backwards as the gravity of what I was doing returned to me. My vision began to swim as my whole body started to pound. I stumbled from the room and out of the villa.

“I don’t remember much after that, just pain, like I was being stabbed with a dull knife, but over my whole body. At one point I may have fallen asleep, but I’m not sure.

“It was the next morning when I finally came to my senses, laying in a pile of hay in the stables. I felt relatively normal again, but even before the thought formed, by the lingering taste of iron on my tongue I could tell that the events of the previous night had been entirely real, though I couldn’t remember all of the details.

“I was dizzy, and my mouth felt oddly sore and sensitive. I spit, and two of my teeth plopped into my hand. But as I ran my tongue over my teeth I found that I wasn’t missing any. I had grown new teeth in the middle of the night.” He opened his mouth, showing Cindy his oddly pointy canines.

“I licked the blood off of my chin and fingers, and hated myself. Nothing had ever tasted so divine before, and yet I was starting to remember the fact that this was a living person’s blood I was so enjoying. More than that, it was Gaius’ blood. This thought brought me back to my senses, and I stood abruptly before almost being brought down again by dizziness. But I had to see, had to know if I’d killed him.

“Except that the second I stepped into the sunlight outside of the stable my skin burned. I shrank away, back into the shadows, and watched in horror as blisters began to form on my forearms. Keep in mind,” he added, “that vampires were not as culturally engrained in Rome as they are today, so I had no idea what was happening to me. I paced back and forth though the stable, trying to figure out how to get back to the villa while avoiding the sunlight. I couldn’t make it across the field. If I tried, I would die.

“Then, a miracle happened: a cloud blotted out the sun. I didn’t think; I just ran. The residual light still made my bare skin tingle, but I made it under the roof of the villa without harm.”

“Hold on.” Cindy held up a hand, and Marcell blinked a few times, coming back to reality. “I have a question: just how much does sunlight affect you? I mean, I opened the shade earlier and you look fine now.”

“As far as I know, the sun is one of the only things that can kill me. But only direct sunlight can really do it. It still hurts if it’s through a window, but to a much lesser degree.”

“Or from behind clouds.” Cindy nodded. “Which you didn’t know at the time.”

“I made a very lucky guess,” he admitted. “But I wasn’t really thinking at the time. I ran to Gaius’ room, and almost bumped into one of the maids. My heart sank as I saw her expression. ‘Is he...?’ I began.

“‘Soon,’ she replied. ‘His time is coming, you should go to him.’

“‘Thank you,’ I nodded, entering the near silent room. I stood in the doorway for the longest time. Gaius almost looked small, like a child, in the bed, and so very pale. His arm had been bandaged, so I couldn’t tell just how much blood he’d really lost. Still, I couldn’t help but think that this was all my fault.”

“But it wasn’t. I mean, not really.” Cindy said, though the more she thought about it, the less sure she was.

Marcell simply laughed. “I’ve been wrestling with that question for two-thousand years.” He looked off towards the wall. “And I still haven’t come to a solid conclusion. I think I’ve made my peace with that. But at the time... well, I’m sure you can imagine.

“Gaius looked up at me after a minute, smiling weakly. ‘Lucius,’ he whispered. ‘Come here, my boy.’

“I obeyed, kneeling beside the bed and gripping his hand, and cried.

“‘No, no, child,’ he said. ‘Do not cry. All things have their time.’”

“Then he didn’t know what had happened,” Cindy asked.

“I’m not sure.” Marcell shook his head. “I didn’t really have time, or the courage, to ask. In fact, before I could say anything he beckoned me closer and placed a piece of parchment in my hand. ‘What’s this?’ I asked.

“‘Everything,’ he said. ‘My land, my library, it’s all yours now.’

“Of course I tried to protest, but he wouldn’t hear of it. And in the end, ‘thank you,’ was all I could say. I sat there with him until he finally stopped breathing, just as the sun was going down. In the course of one day my life had changed completely. Again. I was no longer Lucius the slave. Now, I was Lucius Marcellus the Roman.”

“He gave you everything?” Cindy asked. “But you were a slave!”

“And he was without an heir.” Marcell shrugged. “And anyway, I think I was the closest thing to family he’d had in a long time. Needless to say, I felt worse than death. I thought I had killed him, only for him to leave me all of his worldly possessions. I retreated to the library and didn’t come out for weeks, poured over the numerous scrolls for some way to cure my curse so that this never had to happen again.

“No one came near me, of which I was glad. I was so afraid of giving into my hunger and hurting someone. Eventually I became so desperate for sustenance that I tracked one of the rats in the walls and drained it dry. And thus was born Lucius Marcellus, the bane of rodents forever after.”

Cindy tilted her head, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards despite herself. “So, you don’t need human blood in particular.”

“No, any animal will do as a substitute, but that’s all it is, really. Nothing satisfies even remotely as much as human blood.

“Anyway,” he continued, shaking his head, “Gaius had collected writings from all corners of the empire and beyond, and it wasn’t long before I came across various legends of ‘the vampire,’ and found that there was no known cure beyond death. After that, I didn’t stay at the villa for long. It was hard to be in that place with its constant reminders of Gaius, and the slaves and neighbors were beginning to suspect that all was not right with me. I freed most of Gaius’ slaves, only leaving enough to keep the farm going, and left immediately.

“I decided to travel, learn all I could. I now had all of the time and money in the world, after all. So I did, for many years, which is a story all by itself, until I finally decided to settle down for a while in the city of Pompeii.”

Cindy’s eyes widened. “Pompeii? But isn’t that—?”

“—A story for another time.” Marcell finished for her.

“What?” She stood. “But you’ve barely scratched the surface. You’ve still got one-thousand, nine-hundred years to account for!”

“And it is already almost 6 o’clock,” Marcell motioned towards the window, its shade glowing around the edges from the setting sun. “I’m sure the janitors would like to get in here and go home.”

Cindy sighed, grabbing the long forgotten lunch bag. “You, my good sir, are a tease.”

“Tell you what,” he smiled crookedly, “I seem to suddenly find myself in need of a Teacher’s Assistant for seventh hour, to help me with paperwork and listen to me ramble. Could you swing it?”

“I have study hall then,” she grinned. “I’m completely free.”

“Then we’ll talk tomorrow and get the paperwork all filled out.”

“I’m holding you to that.” Cindy pointed a finger before making her way through the sea of desks towards the door. “Good night, Mr. Marcell.” She waved. “And... thank you.”

“For what?” He asked.

“I’ll tell you some other time.” She shook her head. “It’s a long story.”

[nickikpopart]

Backstory “How to draw LOVE”

“What´s wrong with you”

Other´s POV

Jungkook left his apartment a little earlier to pick up Jimin for their second date. Finally. How he could ever think that Jimin didn´t wanted him. Yoongi had really treatend him to think that and the guy was still not giving up, made it harder for Jungkook. He wanted Jimin to be his  and Jungkook will tell him that today. He was happy that he talked with him yesterday and that Jimin gave him a clear sign that he wanted the same thing. And Jimin talked about LOVE. Jungkooks heart was beating really fast. He had planned everything nice and romantically and hoped Jimin will like it and understands that he is the one for him.

While at the coffee-shop…

Jimin was happy that they made finally a time for a second date. Though he still feel a little down, because during all the trouble and  that Jungkook thought that he didn´t wanted to be with him. It was also a little his fault, because he still let Yoongi going over him. He knows this has to end, Yoongi had no right to be jealous. Jimin wasn´t cheating on him. Deep in his thoughts, suddenly…

“Yahhh…. Why did u just stopped talking to me yesterday?” Jimin was shocked by that sudden outburst and turned around. He didn´t had heard him coming in. Yoongi was standing in front of him head almost red, hands build up into fists.

“What´s wrong with you? Huh… You know why I don´t answer you. Why you keep bothering me. We broke up. When do you finally get that, Yoongi?” Jimin was almost yelling at him but he was also little scared that Yoongis outburst might lead to something. "Didn´t i made it clear to you yesterday?"

“I want to talk with you. I want that you give me another chance, please Jimin!” Yoongi was almost exploding while screaming at him. Everyone was looking at them. Namjoon came out of the Kitchen, because of the noise they made and was whispering into Jimins ear that they should go out to clear things, but it was too late.

Jungkook had arrived the Coffee-Shop and stumbled into the scenery. He couldn´t believe what he saw and immediately were putting himself in front of Jimin showing him his back, so he could might protect him. Jimin, still shocked over Yoongi´s outburst, grabbed Jungkooks hand and was standing still behind him. He felt little better now after he was here.

“What´s wrong with you? Hey, don´t you get it that Jimin don´t want to be with you anymore. How often he has to tell you this. Back off, ok” Jungkook raised his voice while talking to Yoongi. He was also shaking a little because he didn´t how far Yoongi would go.

“Who are you, to talk to me like that? You little piece of Sh..” Yoongi was about to explode. "Hey Jimin, do you really want to go out with that little boy. Are u crazy!"

“Little Boy! Me. I´m the one who will protect him from now on because I like him very much and he deserve to be loved. You don´t have the right to yell at him.” Jungkook backed off a little. The situation got a little heated and out of hand right now. He felt Jimin shaking and turned around. "And come on, look at you. Huh. Who has a childish behavior here."

"Jungkook, please stop. You make it worse." Jimin was shaking while talking. He was so scared. "Yoongi, u don´t have the right to tell me who i go out with. Jungkook is mature and he cares about me more than you ever did."

“Be calm Jimin, I’m here ok. Don´t worry.” Jungkook hugged Jimin while talking to him almost whispering.

“How can I, I never saw him like that before. I´m so scared Jungkook. Not only for me, also for you.” Jimin was still shaking while he talked with him.

“I can handle that, Jimin. OK!” Jungkook was caressing his back, while trying to catch a glimpse of Yoongi through his right eyes. He had turned his head around a little to watch him through the mirror on the wall.

“Wtf… Jimin listen please, I don´t want to go that far but if you don´t talk to me, I might do. And to you, are you think i wouldn´t lay a hand on you!"” Yoongi was raising his voice again which made Jimin chuckle. Jungkook had let go of him and made a move in Yoongi´s direction.

“Stay back from him, ok or I forget myself. Just try something and i will prove you wrong.” Jungkook couldn´t believe himself what he had said right now. He wasn´t that kind of guy who gets angry easily but Yoongi was making it really hard for him to stay calm. From one second to another Yoongi had the chance to get near Jimin and was grabbing his arm. Jungkooks reaction was also really fast and Yoongi was hitting the table behind him really hard. Jimin was shocked by the sudden Action of Jungkook and was stepping back.

“I´m sorry, Jimin. Ok.” Jungkook was looking at him, also shocked about himself. His eyes were looking fondly at Jimin and searching for any reaction from him. Jimin came back to his sense and was looking at Jungkook.

“Jungkook, please don´t say sorry. I know you just want to help but this is going too far n…” Jimin, while making a Step near Jungkook, couldn´t complete his sentence because Yoongi got back to his feet and was grabbing Jungkooks right arm really hard. He pulled Jungkook away from him. Jimin didn´t really know what he was doing. He just don´t wanted that Jungkook get hit, so he tried to get in-between them. His sudden action caused that he got almost hit by Yoongi´s right fist. But he got pulled away before that happen, so Jungkook was the one who was going down, but not before he had let Yoongi feel that his actions had an echo. Yoongi was again hitting the table behind him, while Jungkook got on his knees holding his right hand in pain. Jimin was still shaking by these actions but came immediately back to his senses when he saw Jungkook going down. He moved fast to him and were holding him tight.

“Yoongi, please go. It´s enough now. You were going too far. Leave us alone. I hope you understand it now. Just go.” Jimin was almost pleasing him but with some real anger in his voice. This was too much.  Jungkook got hit because of him. He felt a little guilty and was almost crying because of it.

"Hey, out of my Coffee-Shop or i call the police!" Namjoon had heard the noise really clear and came out of the kitchen. He had try helping Yoongi back to his knees but got his hands yanked away. Yoongi was really pissed but left immediately but not before saying something again. "For now."

Namjoon put back the table to the right place, bowed to every guest and appologized for what happen. Jimin immediately did the same while lifting Jungkook up and sat him down on a chair. He tried to hide his Tears that were started to flowing. He still felt guilty, all this happen because of him. Jungkook saw his tears, lifted his hand and erased thim from his face softly.

"Jimin please, stop crying. It´s not your fault. He is a jerk, who don´t understand that you don´t love him anymore."  Even he had a lot of pain, he was thinking about Jimin´s feelings first. Jimin was amazed and his tears were flowing again but this time with a little smile.

"Jungkook, u didn´t had to do that. Now you are hurt and it kinda ruined our date." Jimin slaped his Arm while scolding him.

"Aishhh, Jimin. That hurts, but yeah you are right. But let me do something ok." Jungkook looked him in the eyes and Jimin calmed down immediately.

"I will get you some ice!" Jimin said while getting up and going to the kitchen. Jungkook searched for his phone in his pocket and called his brother. He was talking with him for some minutes until Jimin came back.

"Who u were talking with?" Jimin asked curiousley while putting the icebag on his hand.

"Ahhhhhh... that hurts... Just with my brother. Don´t worry." Jungkook said and kissed Jimin´s cheek, which made Jimin blushing. "You are so cute when u blush. Let´s go, my brother is waiting for us."

Jimin was taking his Jacket and helped Jungkook to get up. Then again Jimin bowed to the guests and apologized, so Jungkook did to and they were about to left when Namjoon...

"Jungkook, hmmm... uhmmm... say hi to your brother from me." Jimin looked at Namjoon fondly. He knows what´s going on. Jungkook looked at Jimin questioning.

"Hmmm, does he know my brother?" Jungkook asked Jimin.

"Yes he met him, when he came first here. I will tell you later everything, when i talked with Namjoon. I need permission from him." Jimin said while still looking at his Boss.

"Ok, yes i will do." Jungkook said and waved his hand in Namjoons direction. Namjoon smiled a little. After that they left the Cafe. Jungkook couldn´t drive so they used Jimin´s car to get to Jin´s apartement. Jungkook still couldn´t believe what happen minutes before. He was watching Jimin driving.

"Jungkook, i need to concentrate so stop looking at me like that." Jimin was giggling but there was still some sadness in his voice. Jungkook heard it and his heart skipped a beat. That´s why he talked with his brother earlier. Jin wanted to help. They arrived the apartement building after 30 minutes. Jimin parked the car when he was about to get out, Jungkook grabbed his arm and pulled him back. Now face near face. Jungkook looked deep in Jimins eyes and he lost it. He had put already his finger under his chin and closed the gap between them. It was just a short kiss. Nothing passionate. Jimins lips were soft and Jungkook smiled by that Thought.

"Jungkook, what was that for?" Jimin ask while smiling. "Just..." Jungkook smiled to. "We should go, Jin is waiting."

They got out of the car and in the elevator. After another 2 minutes they arrived the apartment. Jin was waiting already and lead them to the kitchen. While they were sitting down, Jin was taking out a coolpack from the fridge. He putted it a little roughly on his brothers hand.

"Ouch... Jin... why... that hurts." Jungkook flinched by his action.

"It should be. How could you?" Jin punched his brothers shoulder. "What have i teached you? Staying calm in such a situation. But anyway, did he got hurt to?"

"Yes he did!" Jungkook thought the pain was ok until his brother hit him to.

"Then i´m little proud of you." Jin was peting his brother head. Jimin was getting up to use the bathroom. While Jin used that to talk to Jungkook. "I  prepaired some little dinner in your Apartement. For you two. I had also called the restaurant to cancel."

"Thanks hyung, i own you something." Jungkook was happy that he could still surprise Jimin. "btw.. i should say hi to you from Jimin´s Boss, Namjoon."

"Oh.. ahmmm... Thx, that´s..." Jin was suprised to hear that, but smiled by that thought.

"Jin-Hyung... is there something you wanna tell me?" Jungkook was surprised to by the way his brother looked when he said that.

"No, everything is fine." Jin scratched the back of his head. "Jimin is back. Now go and have fun."

Jin didn´t needed to tell him that twice. Jungkook will make this evening special for both of them. While he got up, he were putting the cool pack on the table and grabbed Jimin´s hand.

"Huh... were are we going Kookie?" Jungkook chuckled when he heard that nickname. it was cute.

"Over to my apartement, Jimin. Is that ok?" He asked him. So they left Jin´s apartement and were going over to Jungkook´s. Jin wasn´t lying when he said that he had prepaired something. The table in the livingroom was nicely decorated. Jimin´s eyes widened when he saw that.

"Jungkook.. is that... how... is that for me?" He asked him, while taking of his shoes.

"Yeah... i had asked Jin to help me cause i have almost ruined the date with my action." Jungkook apologized again. "You like it?"

"No and yes. No, because Yoongi was the one who ruined it somehow and yes i love it. It look so nice. Jin has that romantic thingy in him, has he!" Jimin said while walking up to Jungkook.

"Hey, i can be romantic to... and yes he has. Btw... i didn´t know he would get so whipped by hearing that Namjoon send him a hello." Jungkook said to Jimin.  "That was kinda interesting."

"Oh, hmmm... that´s beside. Today is our date. So let´s start. I´m hungry." Jimin said while smiling at him. Jimin got that look from Jungkook. "Not you, i mean the food. it looks so yummy."

"Hahaha... " Jungkook was laughing while sitting down. "Ok sorry, my bad. I thought...."

"Stop... give me your plate. I will cut the meat for you." "Jimin took the plate from Jungkook and cutted the meat in little pieces. Then he started feeding Jungkook bite by bite.

"Hehhyshsh, i´m growinghh up. I can doshsh that on my own." Jungkook said while mumbling. That was to cute, Jimin thought. He was laughing while watching Jungkook.

"Don´t laugh at me, or... " Jungkook raised his eyebrow. "Or what..." Jimin immediately got up from the table and stepped back.

Jungkook got up to and followed him. While he made a step forward, Jimin made a step backwards, not knowing the wall was near. No where to go, Jimin stands still while Jungkook came near to him until he was just one step back. So closed, Jimin started shaking and was putting his head down. His feelings turned upside down. He started blushing by Jungkooks sutten move. Jungkook recognized that and put a finger under his chin to lift it up.

"Jimin, i...." Jungkook couldn´t end his word, because Jimin had put his hand behind his neck and were closing the gap between them. The kiss was not heated or forced. No it was nice, soft and warm. Jungkook was humming while kissing him.  He was putting his arms around Jimin´s waist and pulled him closer. After some time they backed off and looked at each other.

"Jungkook, hmmm... i don´t know if this is to early, but i really want to be with you. i don´t want that to let go. i´m.... uhmmm...." Jimin didn´t know what he was saying. He just were knowing that he was falling in love with Jungkook.

"I want that to. And as i said i don´t push u in a relationship with me. But if i´m right now, i like you, i like you very much and if you would ask me to be your boyfriend, then i would say yes, if it is that what you want. Because i want it. I don´t wanna let go of you. I waited two years to get the chance to say it to you."  After that Jungkook lifted Jimin up.

"Kookie, yes i wanted to ask you... would you... uhmmm..." Jimin still lost for words.

"Yes, Jimin i want to, ok. We will try. We will work this out. See how it goes." Both were happy by now. Just Jimin thought hopefully some person accept it and stays away from them.

"Don´t worry about Yoongi, Jimin. We can handle that. I will protect you, ok." Jungkook said while kissing his cheek. "So where, were we. Ahhh... eating. I think the food is cold now. Should we watch a move and i make us popcorn."

"That´s a nice idea Kookie." Jimin sighst and let himself falling on the sofa in the living room, while Jungkook was going to the kitchen. 15 minutes later he came back and joint Jimin on the sofa. So they were sitting there, cuddling each other while watching the movie. Jimin took care of Jungkooks hand while cooling it, after that he putted some creme on it and a bandage. After the movie was over Jimin choosed to stay over night and Jungkook accepted without complaining. He enjoyed it that Jimin took care of him.

Meanwhile...

Jin was sitting on the table in the kitchen... thinking.. “Namjoon, why...”

HOW TO DRAW LOVE AU ( 12/? )

Jimin follows a well known artist on Facebook; not knowing it is Jungkook; a boy he met two years ago and fell for despite being in a relationship. Jungkook suddenly disappeared on him without saying why and left Jimin with a lot of “what ifs”.

@golden-kookmin... so the date went well after all with some ups and downs but hopefully yoongi will stay out of this... we will see what happen next. Also there comes a new sidestory up.. Namjoon....

[wannasoftimagine]

lee daehwi as your soulmate

imagine having daehwi as ur soulmate where u have the date u meet written on ur wrist

(as requested!)

ur soulmate clue isnt really visible for awhile just bc ure like. a tiny kid for the first majority of ur life lol

for awhile u just have a smudge of ink on ur wrist so,,, u dont rlly have a choice but to let it be

ANYWAYS

once u start to get older, the markings on ur wrist start to become more and more clear

ure not super sure if theyre letters or numbers or smthn else, bc it doesnt show up on ur skin quite right yet

eventually, ure able to decipher it as a set of numbers and ure like. okay cool BUT WHAT DOES IT MEAN

u talk it over w some of ur family and friends, and everyone seems to have their own idea abt what it means

but the more ppl u talk to, the more they start to agree tht it seems like a date - for several years in the future

at tht point u realize that its probably the day tht ull finally meet ur soulmate, so theres not rlly much u can do abt it until then

ure a little tempted to try and search for someone with a similar clue, but there are just SO MANY to sort thru tht u decide its not rlly worth it

u try and focus on urself - struggling thru school, spending time w family/friends, typical stuff that most ppl ignore bc theyre too busy searching for their soulmate

honestly its kinda nice knowing when ull meet ur soulmate, since u can relax until then

time passes bc u kno. tht tends to happen in life

SO

it starts to get closer and closer to the date when u meet and NOW the nerves are coming

bc ure like ?? what are they like? what if i dont like them? what if they dont like //me//? where are we gonna meet? what time? do they have the same clue? what if i dont recognize them????

honestly ure a mess of worries by the time the day comes

trying to sleep the night before is almost impossible since ure such a bundle of doubts as u toss and turn in ur bed

come morning, u do ur best to dress as nice as u can

but honestly ure starting to doubt ur sense of fashion and style at this point

eventually u have to calm urself down bc theres no point in stressing out too much, or else ure just going to freak out and have an awful day, soulmate or not

then ure like waaaait a second,,

n u realize tht u dont know when exactly or where ure going to meet ur soulmate

which makes things much harder tbh

u settle on staying on a park bench, watching ppl pass and letting ur wrist casually rest beside u so its out in the open

ure hoping tht someones just going to walk by and be like oH HELLO SOULMATE

as time goes on u realize tht ure not that lucky

actually ure prob rlly unlucky bc bugs seem like theyre attacking u and u take tht as ur cue to leave

ure wandering around a little bit when u stumble across this cute little hole-in-the-wall cafe, so u decide to go in and rest ur feet there

(also maybe meet ur soulmate bc tht would be super Aesthetic u feel)

anyways

u wait around with a cup of coffee and a bagel, hoping that ull see someone walk in with a mark similar to urs

u realize pretty quickly tht it wont happen bc 1) so many ppl keep coming in and out, and 2) no one walks around showing off their wrist tbh

tht leaves u growing more frustrated and worried in ur spot

part of u wants to just approach random strangers and ask “listen im meeting my soulmate today CAN I SEE UR WRIST”

but the realistic part of u is like “what the heck no dont do tht”

u settle on agreeing with the latter

at some point, as ure boring holes into the dozens of strangers frequenting the cafe, u start to nod off

u dont even notice until one of the workers is shaking u awake with a polite smile and telling u tht the store is closing, so ure going to have to please leave

thts when ure like “wow,,, i was rlly tired bc it is LATE outside” but also “WAIT WHAT IF MY SOULMATE CAME HERE WHEN I WAS ASLEEP”

even as u frantically look around, u dont see any cutely written messages from ur presumed soulmate or anything like tht

all u can think is tht maybe ur soulmate clue doesnt mean what u thought it did

after all, its around evening already, and u still havent seen a sign of them

u end up wandering around outside again, too worried abt the possibility of never meeting ur soulmate to be freaked out over the whole “tiny kid walks around alone in the dark!!!!” thing

anywho

u keep checking ur phone (and feeling rlly grateful tht u havent run out of battery yet) and time just keeps to slip thru ur fingers

u end up going to a small restaurant for dinner, but its a place tht uve visited before and u dont see anyone new that could be ur soulmate

afterwards u decide to head on home with a heavy heart

u keep thinking “mb its not the date when we meet??”

but honestly ure not sure what else it could be

like is it the date ur soulmate is born?? but thtd be a kinda creepy age difference,,

and,,,, okay yeah u cant rlly think of anything else

u may or may not get lost a couple of times bc ure so absorbed in ur own thoughts

it doesnt help tht ure not exactly the best with directions

by the time u think ure nearing ur home, ur phone flashes at u with the time 11.51pm and ure like “???!!!!!!!!!!!”

u dont even know what to think at tht point

but then u get hit with the realization tht ure not meeting ur soulmate today and u might never meet them at all, and ure crushed with this aching sense of nothingness

ure just about ready to curl into a ball and just lie on the street for the rest of ur life when u hear someone yell “URE WALKING IN CIRCLES”

and u snap ur head up to try and see who said tht, and u see someone sticking his head out of his window and gesturing wildly

“wHAT” u manage to yell back, bc itd be embarrassing if this guy was trying to help u navigate around and u ended up sobbing back in response

“URE GOING IN CIRCLES UVE PASSED MY WINDOW LIKE 10 TIMES”

and thats.. just as embarrassing tbh

“ARE U LOST??? WHERE DO U LIVE”

all good intentions aside, u frown at his figure to tell him “IM NOT TELLING U WHERE I LIVE”, a pause, and then u add on “U CREEP” bc ure a strong independent individual who doesnt need any freaky dude in ur life

“AT LEAST USE UR PHONE OR SMTHN!!!! URE NEVER GOING TO GET HOME AT THIS POINT”

u feel a little dumb at that bc,,, honestly uve been so wrapped up in ur head tht u kinda forgot u could just use ur phone for directions back home

still just as u pull it out, it flashes a “dead battery” symbol and just. dies on u

“ITS DEAD” u tell the guy, altho ure not rlly sure why ure telling him this bc what if he really is a creep and now he knows u cant call for help ??????????

“IM COMING DOWN”

okay, thats definitely not helping ur i-think-hes-a-serial-killer idea

when he finally closes the window and makes his way down and outside to u, uve prepared urself with a rock

just,, in case,,,,,

(its not even a really good rock but u gotta do what u gotta do)

“i didnt want to keep yelling” the guy says, and he looks much sweeter in person (and when hes not screaming directions at u)

he sticks out his hand and ure like ?? but u take it anyways

“im lee daehwi!! do u want to borrow my phone?” he holds it out to u and even tho ure really tempted to take it, ure still a little skeptical

“if i put my address in there, then ull know where i live and u can track me afterwards”

he seems to find tht both very amusing and very insulting, since his face contorts into a half-laugh half-grimace

its a funny sight in of itself, so u cant help but smile at his expression

u end up bickering a little bit, and by the time he shoves his phone into ur face, u glance at the time and its past midnight and oh

today isnt the day u meet ur soulmate, then

ur face falls and he immediately yanks his hand back, obviously concerned

“are u okay?? whats wrong????”

and even tho hes still basically a stranger u cant help but show ur wrist to him and manage to explain tht u thought u were going to meet ur soulmate today, but its too late bc u still havent met them

but daehwi is giggling and ure like “dONT BE A JERK” but hes already pushing his own wrist into ur face

instead of the date, his reads “11.51 PM” in the same small dark font, and its like oh. OHHHHH

he pushes at ur shoulder, teasing u tht ur clue was more obvious bc “i had to wait around every day to see if i met someone new!!! i just want to sleep but i had no idea when id meet u”

and even as hes pouting u can barely process how relieved u are so u. accidentally zone out juuuust a little bit

he notices of course, and manages to get ur attention by saying “im glad its u tho bc ure super cute”

u stare at him, suddenly super focused on him, and he laughs

“i was just trying to get ur attention, but i do think ure rlly cute”

ure both still a bit in shock, but u manage to carry on conversations well enough bc now tht u know ure each others soulmates, ure desperate to talk to each other forever

he ends up insisting on cutting ur convo short and walking u home bc its so late, but he gives u his number and a quick, embarrassed peck on the cheek with a promise to talk to u soon

its even harder to fall asleep that night, ur head filled the memory of daehwi grinning at u like ure the best thing hed ever seen

others: jisung | sungwoon | daniel | woojin | more coming soon!

[ravager-life-for-me]

Summary:

The Kree planet doesn't have the same atmosphere as Peter's used to. So they need to fix him up with something if he's going to be able to breathe while getting to the vault. Kraglin has just the thing.

Chapter 2: Every Breath You Take

The Eclector seemed to be abuzz with new life. Everyone was doing whatever it was they did as their little pre-steal ritual, whether it was important stuff like checking gear, resupplying their ammo packs, checking in with the Tailor to make sure their Ravager jackets were up to snuff, or really weird stuff like grooming each other’s hair or fighting over what looked like a balled up sock. Peter swam through the crowd per his usual route. It was under feet, away from elbows, and ducking out of reach of an errant claw or knife. Lots of blades were flashed in the galley. Almost had a “that’s not a knife, this is a knife” moment between Hyvar and R’x. Peter saw a blade slice right in front of his face before he stumbled back into the solid mass of a familiar pink-skinned Ravager.

“Hey! I was just lookin’ fer ya!” said Oblo and flashed a grin with a staple of Ravager metal teeth. “Look at you! Not scrubbin’ no decks today, right?”

“Yeah,” said Peter, who sounded more put-out than how he really felt, which was just on the edge of terrified. It was better this way. Sometimes they liked to cheer him up when he was pouting. Sometimes they knocked him on his back and told him to suck it up, but Oblo usually didn’t, so, it was how Peter decided to play it. He scrubbed the back of his head and shrugged a shoulder.

“What’s the matter then?” asked Oblo.

“Oh, I dunno.” Peter scuffed his foot on the ground. He was absolutely milking in. “Just thought it was gonna be something really cool, y’know? But it’s just crawling through vents. I do that, like, all the time.”

“Oh it’s gonna be great. Yer probably gonna have to dodge lasers and kill some guards once yer down there.”

“What?” Peter’s throat started to constrict before Oblo struck him on the back.

“Nah!” he said and doubled over with laughter. “By the stars, could you imagine? That’s ridiculous! You’re just going through the vents!”

“Yeah!” Peter answered, defensive. “I know! Don’t make it sound like, I dunno, like a death sentence.”

“It’s not. Like you said, you do it all the time. Yeah, cause yer the best at cleaning them,” said Oblo and laughed again, barely able to compose himself. “You know what we used to do?”

“What?”

“We used to take Kraglin, right, when he was fresh, and we—”

“Pete!”

“Hey hey, we was just talkin’ about you!” said Oblo as Kraglin waltzed through the galley, finishing up whatever drink he’d managed to steal off the nearest table. It had to be sour because he was fighting with his tongue, his face starting to pinch and squinted down into the cup before he tossed it back towards the table. Kraglin came up to them and Oblo thumped him on the chest. “Remember when we put you in the vents?”

“Yeah,” said Kraglin absently. “Seemed y’all was keen on repeating it today, too.”

“Woulda been funny,” said Oblo, tempting Kraglin to sock him in the jaw.

“Well…” said Kraglin and waffled his hand before he pointed down at Peter. “Hey. Need ya for a second. Got somethin’ important fer the mission.”

“Important?” Peter was excited. Genuinely excited. It was a treat to get something, especially if it was important, and he couldn’t help but wonder what this gift might be. But he was quick to squash that down and give Kraglin a skeptical eye. He had learned early, act aloof and just a little callous and make it a joke in order to save yourself. “What’s so important, huh?”

“You come with me and you’ll prob’ly find out,” said Kraglin and hooked his hand over his shoulder as a wave to follow before he went back the way he came.

Peter checked with Oblo, who was thrusting another thumbs up at him, wagging the tips of his thumbs near his cheeks before he laughed. His face was flushed as he slumped down at a table and picked up the oily-looking drink he’d been enjoying before Peter found him. The Ravager next to him knocked shoulders and they both clanked their mugs together, shouting something at the ceiling and then chugging their drinks.

“Well he’s gonna have a headache,” Kraglin was muttering as Peter caught up to him. They went down towards the medic bay and stopped off in a supply closet. Kraglin opened one of the panels in the wall and started rummaging around in a crate. “Gonna hafta put him on a cannon if he’s gonna…hey, Pete! Good, come ‘ere.”

“I am here,” said Peter. “What’s this yer giving me?”

“Somethin’ important, like I said. Got it rigged up to yer ‘sensitive Terran system.’”

Kraglin said this in a fluty voice, wagging his head back and forth like it was a whole ordeal to recalibrate something so Peter could use it. Like he was the only Terran ever in space, which he discovered wasn’t even true! Just, y’know, not exactly as common as Xandarians, sure, maybe even rare, but Kraglin didn’t have to be a dick about it, is all. He crossed his arms and stood back.

“What?” Kraglin asked without looking over his shoulder.

“Nothin’,” said Peter.

“Then don’t pout.”

“I’m not!”

“Ya are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, ya are.”

“Oh my god, Kraglin, just—”

“Ah, found it.”

Kraglin thrusted his fist out and capped Peter’s comeback, which wasn’t much of a comeback at all, really. It was just a roundabout conversation that would drift in and out at the same point each time he and Kraglin managed to talk to each other for more than five minutes.

Peter tried to stand on his tip toes and see what Kraglin had, but it was wrapped up tight in his fist. He even crouched down to Peter’s level and gently grabbed his shoulder. He was about to reach up to the side of his head and plug something in when Peter braced his neck and jerked out of Kraglin’s grip.

“No, what is that,” said Peter, holding himself.

He’d had lots of things stabbed into him, the translator being the first and foremost. There was a biometric system implanted by the Doc, an alien set of handcuffs, a syringe with a tracking bug on it from a guild of thieves who thought they could use Peter to get to Yondu, and two different sets of teeth from bat-like creatures that made him throw up this green and purple sludge for what felt like forever.

“Listen, I know ya don’t rightly know what them fuckin’ Kree folks are,” said Kraglin, forcing the words “fuckin’ Kree” out between his teeth, “but planets that they inhabit have lots of nitrogen so’s they can breathe.”

“Yeah?” asked Peter. “So?”

“So.” Kraglin motioned vaguely at the ship around them. “So, we got a pretty even mix here. Mostly anyone who can breathe what we need is good.” Peter felt himself intimately aware of his need to breathe then, and consciously pumped his lungs full of air. “Yep. Like, say you went with us down to Xandar, right? Fine fer you. Fine fer me. Fine fer the Captain even, and he don’t even look like us, right? But Tullika’s gonna be a sight more poisonous than yer used to.”

“Poisonous?” Peter quaked and Kraglin squinted his eyes as he watched the kid go paler than usual. But Peter swallowed and rolled his eyes, if only to stop himself from crying. His tongue felt a little thick, so he cleared his throat. “I mean. More and more you guys talk about it…sounds like it’s gonna be, like…dangerous.”

“Some,” said Kraglin with a shrug. He finally held his palm out flat and showed Peter what he’d fetched from the supply crate. “But this’ll help.”

The contraption didn’t look to be more than an inch or two long and about as thick as Peter’s pinky. The dull silvery metal curved slightly, ending in two small red buttons. Kraglin waited for Peter to poke it once before he offered to plug it in again. Peter jerked his head back out of habit before he finally relented, shoulders tense but still as Kraglin fitted the device just behind Peter’s ear. It fit snuggly against the hinge of his jaw. It didn’t sting, so it seemed that nothing had actually penetrated his skin. Peter wondered briefly how it was staying in place. It hummed just a little, just the edge of recognition, and it felt warmer than he was expecting.

“Right, that should do it,” said Kraglin, nodding once. He fondled the piece again to be sure it was absolutely snug before tapping once on the button closest to Peter’s earlobe. “Ya feel that?”

“U-huh,” Peter answered.

“Good.”

Kraglin pressed it and suddenly the world disappeared as something metal materialized in front of his face. The mask seemed to build in pixels wrapping around his head, leaping up over his eyes and forming two perfectly circular red caps of glass. Peter whipped backwards to get away from it, his throat constricting again as the mask completely encased his head except for his neck and the top of his skull, leaving a tuft of hair. In his panic he started prying at the sides, grappling with anything he might get his fingers under to free himself. The air was hot, almost burning in his nostrils and chest.

“Hey, hey, hold on,” said Kraglin, trying to grab Peter as he thrashed about.

“Get it off!” Peter screamed, yanking at the edge under his chin. “Kraglin! Get it off! Get it off get it off get it off!”

“Hold on,” said Kraglin. He finally had Peter’s wrists and held on so he wouldn’t toss himself back into a wall or beam himself on anything in the supply closet and knock his brains loose. “Hey, I’m right here, Pete. Y’hear me?”

Peter was panting hard, his chest rising and falling fast. He felt himself getting dizzy and nearly buckled if not for Kraglin having a tight hold on him. His eyes stung and he couldn’t tell if his vision was blurry because of sweat, condensation, or tears, but he stared wide-eyed through the red lenses until he saw Kraglin’s face. The Xandarian looked calm as ever. He didn’t have words yet, just raspy gasps of air, but it was good to find Kraglin. It was good that he was holding his wrists. Peter told himself this over and over until his heart wasn’t beating at the back of his throat.

“There we go,” said Kraglin, taking big slow breaths as he encouraged Peter to do the same. “You go anywhere that don’t got any air or it ain’t got the right air? You press that button, like I did. That’s gonna save yer life.” Peter sniffled inside the mask, his whole body trembling. “You good, Pete?”

Peter nodded.

“Ya want me to show you how you take it off?”

He nodded again.

There was another button that appeared on the outside of the helmet once it was activated. It was larger and harder to depress, making it easy to find but safe in a fight. Wasn’t gonna just disappear on accident if someone clubbed him. Kraglin took Peter’s hand and ran his finger over it, showing him where to press. The mask disintegrated much in the same fashion that it appeared. The air was much cooler in the Eclector and Peter took giant, grateful breaths before he collapsed against Kraglin, sobbing angrily into his chest.

“Okay,” said Kraglin, and patted his back. “None too pleasant.” When Peter started picking at the device to get it off his head, Kraglin held his hand again. “Keep it there, Pete. Like I said, it’ll save yer life.”

Instead of saying how much he didn’t want to go anywhere he would need it, or how he didn’t want to have to go through with the vault job and how he wasn’t sure he was ready for it, how he was scared, he cried until he felt wrung out. Kraglin, for what it was worth, let him.

After a while, Peter calmed down. He slipped out of Kraglin’s arms, standing awkwardly near the wall as he wiped his face with the back of his hands. Kraglin peaked down at his uniform, which weren’t worse for wear. If anything, Peter’s face was now streaked with dirt except for the lines down the sides of his cheeks. Kraglin dusted his hands and stood.

“Come on, then,” said Kraglin with an eye roll. “Let’s go get you cleaned up ‘fore anyone sees ya.”

He put his hands in his pockets and started off towards the washroom. Didn’t even mind that Peter had hooked his hand into the crease of his elbow and was holding on like he was being escorted.

“So,” said Peter, and sniffed again. “This thing.” He gestured vaguely at the device still there under his ear. “It’s special then, huh?”

“Yep,” Kraglin answered.

“You went and got me something special?”

“I just said, didn’t I?”

“You think I’m special?” asked Peter and there was that old impish grin again.

“I think yer a special case of ‘pain in the ass,’ sure,” said Kraglin.

“Tsk.” Peter wrapped his arm around Kraglin’s skinny waist. “You think I’m special.”

“No I don’t,” Kraglin shot back, trying to wriggle out of Peter’s hug.

“You do.”

“I do not!”

“You do!”

“No!” He broke away from Peter with a shove, not unkindly of course, before he stomped ahead. Peter was right on his heels, taunting back up at him, “You do, you do, guys, Kraglin thinks I’m special!”

“I’ll toss you out the airlock, Pete,” said Kraglin with a scowl, but he let the kid stay close by and walked with him all the way to the washroom, even when he had plenty of other tasks to see to before they were set to head off on the job. Weren’t nothing but his own sort’ve pre-steal ritual, seeing after the man who would get them into the vault. Well, not man. Boy. Brat, actually. But the brat would be able to breathe, so that set up his chances for survival to a higher percentage, and Kraglin felt better about it.