#it is very healing from the usual dark shit i watch

[roonyxx]

Healing Love: part 1

Summary: You have a normal life as a nurse, and you are content with it. But then a storm called Dean Winchester rolls into it and you get swept away by his charms. But secrets linger and threaten to drown you both.

Pairing: Dean x Witch!nurse!reader

Word count: 2084

Chapter warnings: fluff, wounds and medical stuff (i am no professional and have no idea what the real treatments are)

A/N:  This series is dedicated to @deans-spinster-witch she's always been very supportive of my work and I found that she deserved a little treat. She gave me an idea for a new series and i really liked it! so this one is for you @deans-spinster-witch! thank you so much for supporting me! I choose to go with Quinn, i hope that’s okay for you ;)

support me :)

Healing Love Masterlist

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Deviders made by @firefly-graphics, give her some love!

Y/n Pov

You knew you had to buy a new clips for his collar. You don’t have time for him to chase squirrels, you hurry after your dog. Who, usually, listens very well but decided that today he does not…

“Quinn! Get back here!” You jog after him in the street.

It’s the main street, god you hope he doesn’t run into oncoming traffic…

“Quinn!”

You see him running right up to a tall man eating a burger. Which contains Quinn’s biggest addiction, pickles..

You try to yell at the man to warn him but Quinn is faster and jumps up at him, hitting the man right into the thighs and making him loose his balance and fall backwards.

You run faster to get to them, and grab Quinn’s collar as soon as you can grip it and tug him off the man.

“Bad Quinn! oh god, I’m so so-” You look up at the man and are completely lost for words.

Before you is by far the most gorgeous specimen of men you have ever seen.

His green eyes captivate you and pull you in like a new point of gravity. You have never seen this colour of green before in someone’s eyes. They have the colour of forest lit up by sunbeams peeking through the foliage.

His face is dusted entirely with freckles who are more concentrated on his nose and cheeks. His jaw is strong and sharp. And his hair is a dark blond and wildly tossed around by Quinn’s nose currently buried deep within the strands.

“Quinn!” You tug him back to free this beautiful stranger of the assault.

You offer him your other free hand, “I am so sorry, Sir.”

He gives his hand and grabs yours tightly. You tug him to a standing position.

“Oh wow, you got quiet a grip there.” He smile and looks at you, his eyes scanning your face and then quickly going down your body.

“Are you hurt? I am so sorry… Quinn never is like this usually. Are you hurt?” You ask him.

“It’s okay, no really, I should have paid attention.” He glances at your dog and smiles, “He’s lucky he’s cute,” then looks back at you, “And that his owner is cute too.”

You don’t know what to say, your face goes red.

He holds out his hand, “I’m Dean.”

You take his hand and shake it, “Y/n, let me offer you a new burger, I insist.”

Dean looks down at where his burger fells and Quinn is trying to get it. You tug him back.

“It’s okay, I take it as a sign that maybe I should cut down on burgers a little.” He chuckles softly. “But I’m more than okay with taking you out for a coffee, Y/n.”

You like the way he says your name way too much…

“I-“ how can this gorgeous man be asking you out? He seems the type to date super models, your curves are a little more… accentuated than other females. But they help you with the heavy lifting in your job.

Your job that you are currently late for, you gasp and check your watch.

“Shit! I- I would love to but I’m already running late. I need to drop of Quinn before I go to the hospital.”

“Oh right.” He points to your uniform, “I will let you go then, but can I have your number? Perhaps we can do a raincheck?”

He gives me the most dazzling smile and you temporarily forget to breathe.

You make Quinn sit between your legs and clamp him in place. With your now free hand you grab his and grab a pen from one of your many pockets and scribble your number down on his palm.

“There, I’m down for a raincheck.” You smile and grab Quinn’s collar.

“I’ll wait for your call, Dean.” You say as you start walking away.

“I will!” he yells back.

It’s been 3 days and you still didn’t receive a call. You already gave up hope after two days.

Are you surprised? Not really, he’s way out of your league.

So when your phone lights up with an unknown number the third day at almost midnight you pick up thinking it is a spammer.

“Im not interested in what you’re selling.” You answer.

“I- uhm, is this Y/n? It’s me Dean.” He sounds a little out of breath?

“Dean! Oh shit sorry, I have a lot of spammers who call me. Are you alright?” Maybe he’s the workout type of guy?

“I-“ a low grunt that instantly puts you on alert makes you sit up from your couch.

“Dean?”

“I wanted to call you sooner but something got in between, I’m sorry for calling so late but I’m driving around and I might need your nurses skills…”

He sounds in pain… and he’s driving?

“What happened? On what street are you?” You ask in a hurry.

You jump up and put the phone between your cheek and shoulder while you get your first aid kit out and ready.

He gives you the street name and you direct him towards your place.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I have a cut on my shoulder, not very deep but I’m bleeding and will need stitches.” He answers while you hear his car roar in the background.

You note how he doesn’t tell you what happened. But the info he gave is exactly what you need. You start prepping your stitch kit and gauze.

“My house is the one with the green car in front.” You say, and you can hear his car turning into your street.

“I see it.”

You run outside, hanging up the phone as he parks up your driveway.

If he wasn’t bleeding, you would admire his beautiful car. But there are more important things happening now.

You grab the door handle of the driver side and pull open the door.

“Shit.” You say when you see his sleeve drenched in blood, “ You said it wasn’t that deep!”

“It looks worse than it is.” He grunts while turning off the car and grabbing the keys.

You carefully help him out of his car and into your house.

Your hands start tingling at the smell of the blood. The magic inside you is screaming to heal this man, to knit his skin back together and fight of any risk of infection. But you don’t let it surface. You can deal with this the normal way.

You sit him down in your kitchen chair and cut away his shirt.

“Shouldn’t you buy me a drink before ripping of my clothes?” he tries to joke but you can see him wincing and you nod towards the pill and glass with water on the table.

“Take the med, it will help with the pain.”

He takes it without hesitation.

You look closely at the wound while putting on gloves and begin to clean it out.

It is deeper than you thought but stitches will be enough to close it. You do wonder how it happened. It’s a very long, clean cut. Your best guess would be a sword cut.

“So you’re a knight or something? Deep breath, I will start stitching” you warn before you pinch the needle through his skin and begin to sew his skin back together.

“A knight?” he wonders.

“It looks like you got cut by a sword.” You say while focusing carefully. You notice he doesn’t even flinch when you thread the small string through his skin.

“A katana actually, how do you know?” You can feel the prickles on your face from his intense stare searching your face.

“I’ve seen a lot of wounds at work, after a while you start to recognize them.”

“Oh yeah, that makes sense, how long have you been a nurse?” He asks you.

“Seven years in November.”

“Do you like it?” He tilts his head in question.

“It’s hard, physically, emotionally,” you sigh and make a final knot and cut off the thread, then start to wrap up as much as you can, “but yes, I love it, helping people, it’s who I am.”

“There, all finished. No tugging, keep the bandage on for at least a day. Try to keep it dry. The stitches can come out in 10 days.” You explain to him.

“Oh wow, that was fast. Okay, no tugging, no water.” he smiles, “Thank you so much.”

“I guess it makes us even for Quinn attacking your burger.” You chuckle.

At the sound of his name his familiar tipper tapper feet come running towards you and gently nuzzle your thigh. You tug off your gloves and reach down to stroke his black and white head. He peeks up at you with slightly greying eyes. Damn cataracts. He’s a little old, but he’s still perfect. He’s a medium sized dog, a border collie corgie mix. Perfect for training, and he listens well, if… there are no burgers involved.

Dean smiles at Quinn and rubs his face, “He’s so cute. I can’t blame him for wanting a burger. I would take down someone for it too.” He chuckles.

Dean glances up at me, “So I have to wait 10 days to see you again?” He asks.

“You don’t have to wait, I could change the bandage tomorrow if you’d like.” You smile and start putting away all your things.

“I’d like that, but only if you come like that.” He gives you a knowing grin and points to your Viking pyjamas.

You turn red as a beet, with his urgent call you forgot all about the way you were dressed. Your pyjamas are simple, a t-shirt and shorts, an ode to your favorite TV series. You’ve had them for years, they’re all worn out and sit tightly on your body.

With no bra, you can assure there is little left to the imagination…

“Sorry- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Dean quickly says “You look beautiful, like really.”

You start smiling at the blush that makes his freckles stand out. Even his ears, that you now noticed are slightly pointy, turn red.

“Thank you, sorry for your shirt…” you tug at his cut of shoulder part.

He shrugs, “It was old.”

You two stare at each other as the tension rises. You glance at his lips, pink and plump, perfect for kisses and many other things.

When you look up you can see his eyes were wandering towards your chest, to your hardened nipples.

He clears his throat and stands up suddenly.

“Thank you, but I should get going. It’s already late and my brother will be worried.”

“Right, yes of course, I have an early shift tomorrow so I shouldn’t be up so late. Can you drive? I can give you a ride?” You offer.

“I can, it feels much better already.” He moves his arm to proof it.

“Here,” you hand him a box with a few meds “One a day for 3 days.”

He takes it and puts in his pocket, thanking you for it.

You guide him towards the door and open it for him to leave.

“So… I see you tomorrow? At seven?”

You smile, “At seven works for me.”

He’s lingering in your door, his eyes on your face.

You take a step closer but don’t move more.

You want to kiss him…

“I – uhm..” he starts.

Quinn takes that as his cue to jump and put his front paws on the back of your knees, making you stumble into Dean. You put your hands on his chest to catch yourself.

“Oh! I’m so so-“

Your sentence is cut off by a pair of perfect lips, slanting over yours. His hand cups the side of your face while his tongue brushes your bottom lip, asking for entrance.

Which you grant him. You can’t help the moan that escapes you when his tongue dances with yours.

This kiss feels like the first rays of sun after a long winter. It’s warm, soothing, and hints at hot evenings and sweltering nights.

And then a cloud passes over and the heat slowly disappears as he pulls back.

A low whine falls from your lips as you try to chase his lips.

A chuckle sounds in your ears and makes you look up in those incredible eyes.

“At seven. It’s late and you have an early shift.” He smiles.

You don’t mind the heat crawling over your face and nod as he steps back to his car.

“At seven, drive safe, Dean.” You say when he gets inside.

You stay in your door opening until his car turns out of the street, you turn, close your door and look at Quinn.

“You sneaky little match maker.” You chuckle and bend down to pet him.

His tail is wagging excitedly.

“Thank you, Quinn.”

Forever Tags 2024: @jay-and-dean @flamencodiva @snowlovespie @awkward-and-indecisive @hobby27

Dean tags 2024: @akshi8278 @pink-sparkly-witch @verytoadpapersoul @eevvvaa

Healing Love tags: @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573

send me an ask if you want to be on any of my tag lists! (or if you want to be removed)

[nethhiri]

Chapter 54: Saccharine

Warnings: references to violence, menstruation

While you didn’t remember falling asleep, you certainly must have at some point. The thing about being blind was that light couldn’t make it to your brain to tell you what time it was, nor could it regulate your circadian rhythm, so you fell asleep and woke up at random times while your body adjusted to it’s new lightless cycle. You couldn’t tell what time it was, but guessed it was sometime in the early hours of the morning. It was an educated guess based on the hulking beast essentially roaring in your ear with every breath. That and the fact that you were in Killer’s room and Killer wasn’t there. Feeling around the side of the bed opposite Kid, it was still slightly warm. Killer must have just woken up to start making food for the crew.

Usually you would have gone with him to watch the sunrise and share coffee. Thinking about how you would never be able to do that again, for even a split second, sent you back to all the depressing thoughts you were having the previous day. Worse, Killer didn’t bother to wake you, knowing that you couldn’t admire the dawn with him. You would have still wanted to have coffee in his company. You could still do that at the very least.

As you lay in bed, a wave of nausea came over you, followed by the beginnings of a headache. The nausea was easily attributed to the antibiotics you were taking, and the headache could be any number of things: fucked up sleep, dehydration, Kid’s obnoxious snoring. It wasn’t enough to bother you yet. The only thing bothering you at the moment was figuring out how to break free of Kid’s hold so you could go pee. Over the many mornings you had spent with Kid, you were only able to remove him yourself occasionally. More often, Killer would have to rescue you. You were actually a little bit surprised Kid stayed with you for however long you had been asleep. You could tell he still had his clothes on so he must have been there the entire time. 

Your hands searched out Kid’s face. One of them was over his mouth and the other pinched his nose. He twitched a few times and then thrashed to escape your grip for a breath. Instead of releasing you, as you thought he would, he only squeezed you tighter to him with a whine, making the healing wound on your chest twinge uncomfortably. You tried it again. This time, Kid’s own thrashing woke him up when he bucked his head back and hit it against the headboard.

“Ow fuck. What the fuck?” Kid’s groggy voice replaced his snoring. “Can’t ya wake me up in a more pleasant way? Like sittin on my face.”

“I could if you didn’t hold me in a vice grip . Let go of me. Gotta pee.”

When he lazily released you, you rolled on your stomach and scooted down the bed until you felt your feet touch the floor. As you stood up, you felt dizzy, but the feeling passed relatively quickly. You carefully shuffled your way to the bathroom, trying not to trip or run into anything.

As if suddenly realizing you were blind, Kid stumbled out of bed to help. “Shit. Lemme help ya.”

“I’m don’t need help. I’m fine.”

“Shut up and let me- OH shit yer bleeding!”

“Huh?” You felt the bandages on your chest. They were dry. “No I’m not.”

“Not there. Uh it’s- yer bleeding from-“ Kid pointed, again forgetting that you couldn't see.

“Oh.”

It was something that you hadn’t experienced in quite some time. And you would have been perfectly fine without experiencing it ever again. The familiar feeling of warm blood sliding out from your vagina to trickle down your leg. You might have noticed sooner if you had on panties. The cool wet feeling against your crotch was more noticeable than body temperature blood on skin.

“Are ya okay? Are ya hurt?!”

Kid broke out in a sweat when his eyes fell upon the dark red, clotty blood clinging to your inner thighs. He had pushed a lot of the bad thoughts about what had been done to you out of his mind, but they came flooding back in at the sight. His mind swam and he felt sick wondering if you had internal injuries. Although he had seen a fraction of your trauma firsthand, he knew whatever happened off camera was worse. And he felt sicker knowing that it was his fault. If he hadn’t opened his big mouth, maybe the worst of it wouldn’t have happened. Kid was about to run and fetch Killer for help, but you stopped him.

Putting the nausea, headache, and dizziness together, it all made sense. “No. I think… it’s my period?” 

It couldn't be internal lacerations or anything of that nature because you had healed all the injuries that weren't infected somewhat indiscriminately, including any tears you had in the perineal area and anal and vaginal canals. What you didn't understand was how you were bleeding. Ever since the injury that caused your uterus to put out of commission, you hadn't experienced menstruation. It must have been your healing. You had inadvertently healed the scarring in your uterus. The hormones you had been given in captivity had made whatever endometrium you had left thicken in preparation for an egg to implant. The absence of them had caused the lining to slough, and now that your uterus had a patent cavity, it was able to exit. The dull ache of a cramp solidified your theory. You didn't really remember how your periods used to be, but how bad could it have been if you couldn't remember?

"Didn't think ya got those anymore." Kid put his hand on your shoulder to steer you to the bathroom, thinking about the misunderstanding where he thought he had gotten you pregnant in the past. 

"I think I accidentally healed that old injury that kept it from happening." You cleaned up your thighs with some toilet paper. "Can you ask one of the girls for a tampon or pad or something?"

Kid shuffled his feet. "Uh... how?"

"With words." You didn't hear him move. "Well? Get moving." The sound of grumbling and reluctant footsteps faded off as Kid left. 

You wished you could blame your recent emotional distress on this, but you knew it was the trauma manifesting. His sure did take his time. You waited on the toilet for a while before deciding to give your healing another shot. Although you still didn't feel well, part of it could be attributed to your cycle. Focusing on your chest, you willed your power to pull the skin across the scabbed over wound. Your hands lay on your chest to map your progress by poking to see which areas still hurt. Only a small area remained. Even so, you didn't have the energy to finish the job. As you waited, the cramps got slightly more intense.

The door opened and you called, "Kid?" 

"And Killer." You heard the first-mate answer.

After taking care of your bleeding issue with whatever Kid could scrounge up, you let Killer change your bandages. You sat on the edge of Killer's bed, still in his shirt, now with some of his boxers on too. 

"You were able to heal more? It looks much better." 

You nodded with a pained expression, as another, stronger cramp took hold. 

"Here." Killer put something warm in your hands, curling them around a cup. 

You sniffed it. "You brought me coffee?"

"And I brought ya breakfast," Kid's voice interrupted.

Your stomach was rumbling in a bad way. "I think I better pass. But it was thoughtful of you to bring a plate."

"Eh Killer asked me to. But I brought yer pussy shit!"

You snorted. "Yes. Good boy. Thanks for bringing my 'pussy shit'." You made air quotes. It was clear that Kid wanted a little praise for helping. Though you would put money on it that Heat actually had to ask the girls for feminine products and Kid was too embarrassed.

"Can I eat this then?" Kid was not about to waste Killer's cooking. 

"Knock yourself out." 

"Sweet." Kid's feet headed toward the door. "I'm gonna be in the shop." He slowed down and trotted back toward you to press a kiss on your cheek. "Feel better, bunny." Kid practically skipped out of the room. 

Your cheeks were hot as he called you by the pet name he normally reserved for more intimate times. It was just Killer there, but still. You lifted the coffee he brought you to your mouth and blew on the surface so you wouldn't burn your tongue, scooting back on the bed so that you could lean against the headboard and have your legs out. The mug was nice and warm. After taking a few sips, you placed it right over your lower stomach to ease the cramps, which were rolling in more frequently and worse. You heard the drag of a mug from the side table and felt the bed dip. Then there was an arm around you, pulling you in to lean on Killer's side. You heard him take a drink.

"You didn't have your coffee yet?"

"I wanted to share it with you. Like we always do." 

"Minus the sunrise."

"Got it covered, darlin." There was the sound of paper unfolding. Killer cleared his throat. "Dark blue, purpley-pink, coral, bright orange, pale yellow, sky blue. Four fish jumps, two seagulls, one pelican, one mama whale and baby, and one sea king."

You felt guilty about earlier when you thought that he had done your thing by himself. You didn't expect this. This went beyond a nice gesture. This was loving. He watched the sunrise for the both of you and wrote everything down? You had to turn your face from him and say something snarky so you didn't tear up. "You're lying about the sea king." 

"I'm not. Swear on Kid's life." 

You humphed. "Not fair." They were always a sight to behold, no matter how many you had seen.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, just enjoying the time together. You sipped your coffee until there was nothing left. Killer made it exactly how you liked it. He took the empty mug from you and set it on the side table. Drinking coffee on an empty, mildly upset stomach was not the best thing to do, but it was the only thing you thought you could keep down for now. Killer rubbed your arm with his fingers in light circles. 

"Kid seems to be in an uncharacteristically good mood lately," you mused. He hadn't even stomped once since you had been better.

"He's relieved that you're alive." Killer paused. "No one was sure if we would get you back. I think we convinced ourselves that when, if, we found you, it would be too late. If we did that, then we couldn't be disappointed if that was exactly the case. Any outcome that ended with you being alive was more than we could have dared hope for. Everyone wanted to believe we would find you alive, but we were too scared that we would be let down." His arm tightened around you. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get heavy."

"I didn't think... everyone cared that much. I mean you and Kid... yeah, but everyone else?" 

"You are part of the crew. The crew is our family. You are our family." Killer paused. "If it were Quincy or Emma, wouldn't you feel the same?" 

"Yeah... but I haven't been a part of the crew for as long. I'm not as integrated."

"What are you talking about? You've healed every single person on this ship at some point. You've fought for every single person on this ship and risked your life more than once." In a more gentle tone, Killer added, "When are you going to accept that you are worthy of being loved? And I'm not only talking about Kid and I." He meant them, and Heat, Wire, all your friends in the crew, everyone. 

You knew Killer was right. There was something inside you that put up a barrier against fully feeling like part of the crew. It protected you in case one day they decided otherwise. Then you wouldn't feel as heartbroken. It had started to crumble not so long ago, but the deceptive words of Warthin had built part of it back up again. Something Killer said had caught your attention.

"Kid and you?" 

In the silence that followed, you wish you had your vision back. Killer was probably so red he was purple. 

"Uh, well." Killer paused in his discomfort. "Yeah. I was... gonna tell you. I wanted to tell you." 

You smiled softly. "You didn't have to say it. You show it with everything you do. But... It's still nice to hear." There was a long pause. "That's your cue to say it." You put a hand behind your ear playfully. 

"I guess I have no choice. I have to compete with your three other boyfriends." 

"Huh? Three?"

Killer chuckled. "That's what you said in your sleep, when I was taking care of you." 

"I wonder what I meant by that."

"Probably wishful thinking. I think Wire and Heat would find it very amusing," Killer teased.

"I don't need eyes to kick your ass, Massacre Soldier."

Killer leaned down and nuzzled his face into your neck. "I love you, little breadcrumb." He kissed your cheek. 

______________________________________________________________

Several hours later, you were writhing in pain. Kid took you to his cabin to keep you company while Killer attend to his own duties. They both thought it best not to leave you alone with your thoughts, and for that you were grateful. Kid sat at the desk in his room and was working on some schematics or maybe charting. You couldn't tell, but you could hear the sound of his pencil furiously working. During this, Kid kept asking if you were ok and you kept replying that you were fine, but your clipped tone suggested otherwise. There was no more pain medication, not even the weak stuff. It had been used on you when you were unconscious. Kid didn't like watching you toss and turn, switching from fetal position one direction to the other, trying to get comfortable. 

"Are you sure I can't get you-"

You half growled. "Get me heat and some fucking chocolate if it will make you shut up."

All the years that you had gone without menstruating seemed to catch up at once, hitting you with every missed cramp and migraine, plus interest. Between the cramping and your lower back aching, it felt like someone was spearing you through the middle. You could feel Kid's worry seeping into you from across the room and it annoyed you. This was nothing compared to what you had endured, and yet it knocked you flat on your back. You couldn't fight it with fists. If you had full use of your devil fruit, you could end it. Maybe tomorrow would be the day. You knew you shouldn't snap at Kid and you were guilty about it. The pain of the migraine you were now experiencing and the cramps squeezing the life out of you interfered with your ability to be nice. If Kid wanted to help so badly, then so be it. He could get you a warm pack and one of your cravings. 

A few minutes later, Kid returned. "Alright, lass. I brought Heat and I didn't know what kind of chocolate ya wanted, so I brought all of it."

"What do you mean you brought Heat? I meant like a warm compress or something."

"Oh. Heat, ya can lea-"

"No! He'll do." You rolled to make room on Kid's bed. "Come." You patted the vacancy.

Heat stiffly got in beside you, unsure of the situation. He hadn't seen much of you since you returned. In fact, the last he saw you, you were near-dead on a gurney in the infirmary. This was improvement. He still didn't want to hurt you by accident, or, more likely, get hurt by you. You were giving him such a mean look, especially for someone with no eyes.

"Hands." You demanded. When he didn't move fast enough, you repeated,"Hands!" 

Heat hurriedly gave you both of his hands. You slapped one on your lower back, and the other on your lower stomach, making a sandwich of yourself. Finally, his higher than normal body temperature started to soothe your pains. He had to lay on his side to keep his hands in place. You groaned as your aches grew duller. Normally, Heat would have been very into you ordering him around. He was too intimidated to have horny thoughts. Nor was it the right time to. When your breathing slowed and it seemed as if you were asleep. Heat thought about getting up. 

"Boss," Heat whispered, "I'm scared to move."

"You should be," you said, definitely not asleep.

Kid cackled from across the room.

"Keep it down! My fuckin head is killing me." 

Kid choked his laugh back. "My bad, doll." 

There was a subtle jiggle in his hands as Heat silently laughed at his captain getting scolded. You put your hands on top of his, pressing it harder into your gut. 

"Make them hotter," you told Heat.

"I can't control my body temperature." 

You grumbled your displeasure. 

Later, as you started feeling better, you dismissed Heat so he could go do his actual tasks for the day. Killer brought you lunch, which you weren't hungry for because you had been snacking on chocolate all day. Killer was displeased that Kid let you eat that much. In Kid's defense, he couldn't say no to you. You looked so cute curled up snuggled in his sheets and he liked that you were dependent on him. During breaks between sketching, Kid would sit next to you and rub your back or offer to get you something. Even Wire dropped by to "see if Kid needed anything", but really he wanted to see how you were doing with his own eyes now that he heard you were bouncing back.

In the evening, Killer brought dinner to Kid's cabin for the three of you. Killer did the same thing as he had before after cutting everything up into bite-size pieces. He helped you with the first bites so that you knew where everything was in space. Then, you could do it without his aid. Killer had thought about bringing you soup in a mug so you didn't have to fiddle with utensils, but he knew you wouldn't like getting something different than everyone else because of your disabilities. Plus, it was better that you got some hearty food in you instead of broth. By tomorrow, you could probably use your devil fruit to heal yourself if you had enough energy. 

After dinner, you asked if you could shower. You hadn't done anything to get dirty between the last one and now, but you thought the warm, moist heat would feel good. Your body and Mother Nature were still fighting you, but they had settled down to a tolerable level. Killer would not allow a shower, and certainly not an unsupervised one. They were being extreme in your opinion. It was sweet how much they cared though. And that was how you ended up in the bathtub with both Kid and Killer. The bath was safer since you had to sit, and both of them had to clean off, so it made sense to join you. When you were done cleaning yourself, you sat in front of Killer so he could braid your hair again. You liked how it stayed out of your face and you knew that Killer was a little bit of a perfectionist, so they definitely looked good. 

"So does this mean ya can get pregnant now?"

"Kid!" Killer scolded him. 

"What?! I'm jus curious." 

"My eyes would be rolling, if I had any. Just so you know." You sighed. "Yeah I guess so."

Kid made a noise of understanding. 

"What? Nothing else?"

Killer pulled you into his lap when he was finished braiding your hair. "We'll be more careful in the future. That's all."

"Actually..." You paused, unsure how to proceed. "I was going to use my devil fruit to reverse the healing I did. I don't want to deal with this every month and I'm sure you don't either. And the chance of having a baby..." You shook your head. There was a silence that you didn't know how to interpret without being able to see either of their faces. It was making you nervous. "Is that... okay? Or.... is that something you... might want?" You choked the words out, feeling awkward even saying them. Being a mother and having a family were never items on your radar. Yet, your thoughts on the matter might be swayed if that was something that either of them wanted. They had done a lot for you lately, more than you thought they ever would. 

"Doll, that's not for either of us ta decide." 

Killer wrapped his arms around you in agreement. 

"I can...always reverse that, too. If you change your mind." You shrugged.

"Stop yer worryin about what we want." Kid flicked water at you. 

"Do what you want," Killer added.  

The next day was pretty much the same. You felt like shit when you woke up, but as the day went on, you gradually felt better. And at the end of the day, you were able to fully heal the rest of your chest. You didn't know what would happen if you reverted your uterus to its scarred state before you were done with your period, so you left it alone for the time being. The entire day Kid and Killer periodically switched off checking on you, offering cuddles, idle chat, food, whatever you wanted. It was unlike anything you had experienced before and something you definitely hadn't expected from them, more so Kid. He really did have a soft side, if you were lucky enough to see it. 

That night you were sandwiched between the two of them, as you were most nights. You liked to tuck yourself under Kid's stump and lay on his chest while Killer spooned you. That was exactly how you were positioned now. The pillowy-ness of Kid's chest rivaled your own. Killer refused to answer whose chest he preferred to lay on because he knew whatever he said would start a fight. Killer's hand was draped over you, rubbing your lower stomach, which still had echoing cramps. Kid ran his hand over your braid and gave it a playful tug. 

"I like these." 

"Mhm," you replied sleepily. 

"I'm pretty close to figurin out how to replace yer eye." 

"Are you?"

"Ya might ferget how handsome I am if I don't finish it soon." 

Kid was only joking. How could he know that was a very real fear you had been struggling with? Tears formed at the corners of where your eyelids met and dripped down your face onto Kid. You tried to sniff them back before he could see, yet it only made you cry harder. 

"Hah!? What'd I say?! What's wrong?"

"What if I do forget?" You sniffed. "W-when he took my eye... he said he's the last thing I'll ever remember. And I don't want him to be right." 

"He won't be. Don't think that for a second." Kid's anger flared. The only thing stopping him from going to the brig and beating that man to death was the fact that you would be mad that you didn't get to do it yourself. 

"We're not going to let that happen," Killer spoke from behind you. Killer felt guilt prick at his mind. Maybe he should have told you about your eye. He felt like he was doing the right thing. Now, he wasn't so sure. 

Kid brushed the tears from your face. "Don't do that. Yer so ugly when ya cry." Kid said it on purpose. He knew it would make you laugh to say something mean instead of what a normal person might say. It was part of his charm.

"Kid!" Killer protested.

You started to half-laugh half-cry. Kid was so stupid. But it was comforting in a way that only you would understand. How did you deserve to have not one, but two people that cared for you so deeply? They had helped you so much over the past few days, not to mention the effort they put in to rescue you.  Somehow, the past two days meant more to you. Any captain worth anything would rescue one of his crew. Only a captain that loved you would run and jump to hug you when he saw that you were awake, or bring you his own officer as a personal heating pad. And Killer, how two days in a row he brought you coffee and described the sunrise for you, so you could still participate in your special routine, one that you thought would be over forever. You started crying again. 

"What now!? I didn't say anything!"

"No one.. has ever been... this kind to me." You said between sobs. 

"Ya don't have to be a crybaby about it." 

"You can be a crybaby with me," Killer rolled on his back and patted his chest.

You started to roll to lay on him instead, but Kid trapped you against him.

"No, no. Stay. I like yer ugly crybaby face." 

Killer returned to his place spooning you and kissed behind your ear. "That's what people do when they love you." 

"Get used to it, princess. Can't have ya bawling yer eyes out every time we do somethin nice."

NEXT

Tag List: @bbnbhm @nocturnalrorobin

[sizzlingstarlightsky]

Ancient Games (part 2)

Azriel x Eris

(part 1)(part 3)

word count: 1300

Summary: Eris heals an injured Shadowsinger only to reveal a deeper, darker destiny. Can they work together to restore their lands? Or will court rivalry control them and power persuade their intentions?

cw: Beron being a piece of shit like usual, acotar in a different reality. This chapters a little shorter for clif hanger purposes.... get ready

Azriel POV

In the quiet solitude of the glade, Azriel the Shadowsinger watched the young prince approach with a practiced air of resilience.

The bond that had formed between them was a stroke of luck, one that he had subtly cultivated. Eris Vanserra, the prince with a heart as fiery as the leaves of their realm, had been the key to his plan all along.

As a master of deception, Azriel had honed his skills to near perfection in the treacherous night court.

His true form was that of a majestic creature of the night, a being of shadow and moonlight, capable of assuming any guise he desired.

The guise of a helpless, injured Shadowsinger had been a simple one to maintain, allowing him to infiltrate the very heart of the Autumn Court and earn the prince's trust.

Each time Eris visited, the bond grew stronger, and with it, so did the tension.

Azriel could feel the burgeoning attraction, the unspoken longing that simmered beneath Eris's gentle touch and concerned gaze.

The prince was as beautiful as he was naive, a fierce warrior with a soul that shone like a beacon in the dark. It was a temptation Azriel hadn't anticipated, and it was one that could either be his salvation or his downfall.

"Your father wants me dead," Azriel said softly one night as they sat beside the now-healed Shadowsinger, the creature's dark eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

Eris's hand tightened around the bundle of herbs he'd brought.

"I know," he replied, his voice heavy with conflict. "But I can't just let that happen. There's more to you than he sees."

"Is there?" Azriel's question was a challenge, a silent dare for Eris to prove his father wrong.

His gaze was piercing, his eyes a deep, soulful hazel that seemed to see right through the prince's armor. "Tell me, Eris, what is it that you see in me that others do not?"

The prince looked away, his cheeks flushing with more than just the chill of the night.

"I see pain," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "And I see hope."

"And what of the prophecy?" Azriel pressed, his voice a soft caress. "Do you believe in it?"

Eris hesitated, the warmth of Azriel's breath against his cheek sending a shiver down his spine.

"I... I'm not sure," he admitted. "But I can't ignore the bond that has formed between us. It feels... right."

Each night, he found himself drawn back to the glade, to the Shadowsinger whose very presence seemed to fill the void that his father's disapproval had left.

The bond grew stronger with every shared secret, every gentle touch, and every whisper of a future that could be theirs.

Eris POV

As Eris approached the clearing one evening, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and dread, he found the Shadowsinger's form shifting before his very eyes.

The creature grew taller, its wings unfurling into a cloak of darkness that seemed to swallow the light. The face that emerged from the shadows was that of a man—beautiful and terrifying, with eyes as deep and as ancient as the night itself.

"Your Highness," the creature said, its voice a seductive purr that seemed to resonate within Eris's very soul.

It was Azriel, the Spymaster of the Night Court, standing before him in all his terrifying glory.

Eris stumbled back, his hand instinctively reaching for the sword at his side.

"What... what are you?" he managed to ask, his voice trembling.

"I am what I have always been," Azriel said, his eyes never leaving Eris'.

"A servant of the night, a creature of shadow and moonlight. But now," he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup Eris's cheek, "I am something more."

Eris's breath hitched as Azriel's thumb brushed against his jaw, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to the chilling power that radiated from him.

"What are you saying?" he whispered, his voice hoarse with a mix of fear and desire.

"The bond we share," Azriel paused, his eyes searching Eris's.

His scarred hand dropping to Eris's chest, his palm pressing against the erratic beat of his heart.

"But it requires a choice—one that could either unite or destroy us all."

Eris felt his pulse quicken beneath Azriel's touch, the heat of his hand seeping through the fabric of his tunic. He swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest.

"What do we have to do?" he asked, the words barely leaving his lips.

"We must find the Dragon's Bane," Azriel said, his eyes burning with an intensity that seemed to set the very leaves around them aflame.

Eris's hand hovered over the sword at his side, torn between the duty ingrained in him and the undeniable pull of the bond.

"But my father... he will not stand for this. He will see it as treason."

"Your father is a product of his time," Azriel said, his eyes never leaving Eris's. "The world is changing, and it is time for us to choose our own path."

He leaned in, his breath warm against Eris's ear. "In three days, I will return. By then, you must decide if you stand with me or against me."

With those words, he vanished into the night, leaving Eris trembling in the cold embrace of the forest.

The bond between them was undeniable, a living, pulsing force that whispered of love and loyalty, of darkness and fire, of a destiny that could either save or doom them all.

-----

Azriel POV:

In the dimly lit chambers of the Night Court, Azriel stood before Rhysand, his eyes aglow with the power of the shadows.

The High Lord of the Night Court, with his raven hair and piercing violet eyes, sat on his throne, a crown of stars and darkness adorning his head. His expression was unreadable as Azriel recounted his encounters with Eris.

"So, the young prince has a soft spot for the beasts of the night," Rhysand mused, steepling his fingers. "Or perhaps for you, Shadowsinger."

"It is the bond," Azriel insisted, his gaze never wavering from his king's. "The prophecy is playing out as foretold. His compassion is genuine, but it is the bond that guides him."

Rhysand leaned back in his throne. "Your report is... intriguing, Azriel," he said, his voice a velvet purr. "A bond between an Autumn Prince and a creature of the night-"

"But how can we be sure?" another voice interjected.

It was Cassian, the brutally handsome warrior who had never fully trusted Azriel's intentions.

"What if the prophecy is a trap laid by our enemies?"

"It is a risk," Rhysand conceded, his gaze shifting to Cassian before returning to Azriel. "But one we must take. The Autumn Court is strong, and if Eris truly is the one to wield the Dragon's Bane, then we must convince him to join our crusade."

But Azriel could not shake the feeling that Rhysand's interest in Eris was not purely for the prophecy.

The Dark Prince had a way of twisting hearts to his will, and Eris's fiery spirit was ripe for the taking. He had seen it before—innocents drawn into the web of the Night Court's schemes, their light extinguished in the quest for power.

"Find the Dragon's Bane," Rhysand ordered, his eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and calculation.

"Bring it to me, and I will ensure your prince sees the truth of our cause. He will stand with us, willingly or not."

The words hung in the air like a noose, tightening around Azriel's neck. He knew the cost of defying Rhysand, the pain that awaited if he failed.

"As you wish," he said, bowing his head in feigned obedience.

He couldn't shake the image of Eris from his thoughts—his fiery passion, his unyielding courage, and the way his eyes searched Azriel's soul every time they met.

@chunkypossum @honeysuckle-daydreams13

I hope you're enjoying the series <3 I'm having a lot of fun creating it!

[ladythornofrivia]

birthday sleep

Shinichiro has been rejected once again, bleeding from a fight. Scarring the girl away was the last thing he needs. His nights were filled up with nightmares—Mikey’s death. Working for the last several years as a nurse, his efforts of saving Mikey, hoping Mikey would heal and recover from the incident has made him more distraught. On the night of his birthday, his friend dragged him out for a celebration at Wakasa’s establishment. What better way to start the night is when they brought tons of girls who are interested in Shinichiro. Uninterested, he went out for a smoke and met a girl with a tattoo, who is more than meets the eye.

pair: Shinichiro x Reader

warnings: sad moments. fluff. smut. mentions of the original timeline. Shinichiro being lonely yet thirsty. fluff/comfort. happy ending. Mdni. Nsfw.

A/N: happy very belated birthday to Shinichiro, who has earned 20 rejections than Leonardo DiCaprio’s Oscar award. At least Shinichiro handles rejections better than…you already know who.

There hasn’t been a day where Shinichiro wouldn’t stop himself from liking one girl to the next. Better than sulking on a corner, he goes up to the next pretty girl he sees at the most random time. And fate hasn’t been kind to him; he got beat up in a fight. When he asked the girl out, his entire forehead bled. He was out, drunk from drinking stupidly and clumsily.

The girl screamed and scrammed, leaving poor Shinichiro out alone on the dark road outside of the closed shop with a saddened look adorned his face with his head slung forward; the bleeding made a whole mess. This is going to look like a crime scene. He called his friends, and as usual, his friends made fun of him for not getting the girl properly. The definition of properly is a foreign concept to Shinichiro.

On this current night, the memories of his bleeding forehead has been long forgotten; every pain he received was in the past. And though hurtful, he’d rather have physical pain than the memories of his younger brother.

Mikey.

When Shinichiro took a caregiving class for an eternal dedication his brother, hoping Mikey would heal, Shinichiro hadn’t realized the world was falling apart around him. Emma packed and bailed without a word, Haruchiyo and Takeomi are still in a ‘no speaking’ terms and Shinichiro’s grandpa passed away. He needed a distraction, to which by liking girls from afar and courting girls, which lead to his epic failure. No words can describe how much he hated being rejected, but it won’t mean he’ll surrender to despair.

But if anything, Shinichiro got sleepy and sloopy, as of late. Mikey’s passing affected Shinichiro so much he wouldn’t help himself to have coping mechanisms. Everything is just a survival tactic, out and in of his world. His body felt numb, but he needed his aggression to release from the painful forlorn he endured from sleepless nights from sacrificing his life as a leader of Black Dragons, and studying to become a caretaker for Mikey.

One night, Wakasa, who has now been established as the own of the nightclub. Wakasa is popular among the ladies, but he never beds with them unless he’s interested in someone that caught his eye.

That is the difference between Shinichiro and Wakasa. Every girl is special in Shinichiro’s eyes, but Wakasa wanted someone who stands out from all the rest of gravitating Wakasa himself. On that night, Wakasa sat beside his long time friend, smoking, as they watched the quiet field with tension air encompassing them. Not even the wind could soothe the darkness inside Shinichiro.

“I’m glad Mikey’s dead. I’d rather have him not suffer when he’s alive,” Wakasa stated.

“Without Mikey, I don’t know how I’m able to cope,” Shinichiro said, slouching his aching back. “I can’t do shit. Everything has gone wrong in my life. Grandpa’s dead, and Emma left. I shouldn’t have neglected her while I was taking care of Mikey. I could only wish that if there’s anything I would like to have back, it would happiness and family.”

Wakasa inhaled the cold air. “You like having family someday. And you like the idea of having someone in your life. It’s not so bad.”

“Not so bad? I got rejected before I even open my mouth,” Shinichiro responded. “The last girl rejected me while my head was bleeding.”

“Well, that’s what you get for being reckless.” Wakasa puffed. “Tell you what, since it’s your birthday today, let’s hang out tonight. It’s on me, Shin. You hang out, get drunk, get any girl that you wanted as long as you’re serious on courting her. Who knows, maybe she’ll take a liking to you. After all, I have a keen eye for special ones. Anybody can be anybody, but as long as they stick out like a sore thumb—in a good way—then everything will fall into place.”

Shinchiro’s sleepless eyes remained motionless. “Mind if I ask where are we heading tonight?”

Looking at the back over his shoulder blade, Wakasa’s lips curved upwards. “I think you know where.”

~~~

Music banged into his ears as his drink refilled for the second glass. The nightclub Wakasa established is excellent. Service, the appearance, the atmosphere, Shinichiro almost feels as if the life of loneliness and hard work has been paid off, despite Mikey’s passing took a toll on him. Everything has been brushed off, forgotten, as if his experiences on taking care of Mikey is non-existent.

Shinichiro closed his eyes, head laying back at the sofa frame to lean on, relaxed. Shinichiro barely looked around, not to girls, at least. One by one, the girls approached Shinichiro to spend time on the floor. While Wakasa encouraged, since he knows that Shinichiro has a thing for girls. Surprisingly, Shinichiro rejected him, which got Wakasa shook. The girls, nonetheless, went onto the dance floor, some hung out with other men who are available for a long chat.

“I thought you said you like girls,” Wakasa assumed. “You love girls, I know you do. Every where you go, when you see girls, you never miss your chance on flirting with them.”

“Not in the mood to talk,” Shinichiro blurted. “I’m just tired. I want to go to sleep and forget about all this shit.”

Wakasa leaned forward. “It’s your birthday today. Loosen up a little. I know there’s still there, the optimistic Shinichiro. You used to smile and laugh, even when beaten down, because you know that you can get through any obstacle.”

“Well, things changed,” Shinichiro whispered to himself.

“It’s not too late to remedy the damages.”

“Can you say the same when my family is dead and gone?”

Sighing, Wakasa snapped his fingers, and one of the servants came over for Wakasa to whisper in the servant’s ear. Minutes later, a lady in blue arrived and went near towards Shinichiro, who was taking a nap at the moment. By the time the lady touched, Shinichiro seized her hand, nearly breaking the bone on her wrist, but quickened his reflex on letting go, thus, leaving the nightclub by saying good night to Wakasa. Not interested in seeing Wakasa’s reaction, Shinichiro decided to end the night by going to a convenience store.

~~~

The convenient store is vacant and soundless, which he preferred. No matter how he looks at his life, he’d rather have quietness once in a while. He may want thrill and adventure, but there comes a time when he needed a quiet space, unlike Wakasa or Takeomi, who preferred to parade themselves with ladies and drinks and loud music. To his previous goals, he wanted to have own a bike shop, but when dreams hit harsh reality, there’s nothing more than an ultimate despair coming at anyone’s way. Everyone’s happiness loses everything when the path changes without a sudden warning. And even if it does, people are still in despair. Life is tough road unless being filthy rich. Though coming from a prestigious family, even when rich, some rich families treated their children as if they’re nothing. Hard work and resilience is all anyone has. Shinichiro soon gave up his dream bike shop to look out for Mikey until his death in July.

“What a mess,” he said to himself. He only bought himself some snacks, soda and a pack of cigarettes. As he went outside the store for a smoking break, he got his lighter to switch it on, but never worked. No matter how much forced he puts in, he wanted to fill in with the familiar taste.

“Need help there, handsome,” a voice said behind him.

Startled, Shincihiro turned around and glanced at girl, who stopped out of the shadows with her thick and baggy leather jacket, red sleeve jumper, covered limb to limb with combat boots. It was cold out at night, her hands tucked into the pockets. Her long curls framed against her gentle face as she took out the lighter she kept with her. As Shinichiro nodded, coaxed, you switched the lighter on and watched as his cigarette lit.

His watchful eyes took every inch and every detail of your visage. You are beautiful, no doubt. Unlike the girls in the club. You exuded quiet confidence, very womanly, even dressing in modest yet alluringly tight-fitted outfit.

“You come here often,” Shinichiro asked.

You squawked a short guffaw. “Is that your pick up line?”

“No,” he said. “I just thought it’s dangerous for a wonderful gorgeous woman like you to be out here alone in the night. There has been stalkers and kidnappers and killers alike.”

Chortling, you said, “Very sweet of you to think of me this way.” The stroke his face, which Shinichiro’s reaction stiffened, then softened at your touch; his face leaned in further, swaying, a little tipsy.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“I’m fine. I just got out from my birthday celebration.”

“Not good?”

“It’s good, but…not my kind of night,” he answered. “I just need peace and quiet. Too many things going all at once.”

“I understand.” Your eyes flickered from his face to his tall stature, still tipsy. “Want me to take you home?”

As you came forward, Shinichiro’s face dropped onto your chest, lulling.

“What’s your address, I’ll take you home.”

Instead of answering you, Shinichiro became unresponsive.

Slinging his arm over your shoulder. Luckily, you didn’t pack up too much stuff , just a phone wallet and cigarettes and lighter carried in your pockets, and carried him all the way back to your apartment. Inside of your apartment, it’s cold and clean, you placed Shinichiro down on the couch with cushioned pillows and thick blanket. Unpacking the snacks and ramen noodles, you strolled into the kitchen and heated up the ramen for him, while making ginger tea in the process with also a glass of sweet orange juice came prepared in case he didn’t like the ginger tea.

Microwave beeped, and the noodles are heated and softened, along with cooked meat you prepped in case of emergency comes. After a long preparation, you set the meal on the table in front of sleeping Shinichiro. After that, you took a long warm shower and changed your casual clothes into comforting ones. One of your arms is covered in whole blue phoenix tattoo. And by the time you returned back at the living room to check on Shinichiro, he woke up from a smell of ramen and ate with his eyes closed, sleepy and peaceful, slurping the savored soup and the contents. He looked adorable while eating. He took the mug off the table and drank the ginger tea. It was a bit bitter so you put the honey in case he hated the taste. To your success, he loved the taste of tea. After a strong alcohol sinking into the digestive system, it must’ve been hurtful. Whatever he’s experiencing at the moment, he needed a moment of solace. After eating the snacks, he went for the orange juice. He hummed, and somehow thanked you even though you haven’t been approaching him. You wanted to give him space out of respect.

Thank god no one else was living with you. Having freedom can be so nice, especially having a handsome man in your place.

Clearing your throat, Shinichiro turned around and saw you with a smile resting on his sleepy face.

“How’s the meal?”

“It’s great,” he said, his back slumping.

“Don’t force yourself to be awake,” you reminded him, perching with your legs stretched near towards Shinichiro’s thigh. Placing your hands over him, you adjusted his slouching back. His face turned green at his drunken state.

“The bathroom’s nearby. I can take you there,” you suggested.

Shinichiro’s hazy eyes gazed at you for a moment. Time stopped for him, his breath taken, his heart palpitated by the sight of your mature beauty. Even after a clean shower, you are more than just a beauty. With your one piece pajama, the blue ink of a koi fish tattoo displayed on your right thigh as you relaxed. Shinichiro’s heart thumped loudly against his ears. This time, it wasn’t from being drunk. He admired you more and more as his anxiety risen from you being so close to him on the couch. The fainted scent wafted through nostrils; his head became fuzzier with dying consciousness. He never met you before; hasn’t seen you around in the parts everywhere in Japan. Maybe he wasn’t looking hard enough.

“Have we ever met?” he asked.

“No, this is our first time meeting each other,” you said, positioning your arm on the couch frame. “Why? Did we meet somewhere?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s just…you sound different.”

Perplexed, your head tilted. “Different? How so?”

“You don’t sound native,” he blurted, blushing. “I hope I didn’t offend you or anything.”

“Not at all,” you said. “I’ve been trying to study Japanese ever since I got here.”

“How long?”

“Around two years total,” you answered.

Whistling, Shinichiro splayed himself back at the couch frame, lifting one foot up. “I’m impressed. Not everyone handles Japanese easy. How did you learn it so fast?”

You shrugged. “Boredom.”

“Boredom? You mean you don’t have…”

“I neither have friends or anyone to converse with. Let’s just say that I’m in my own head space,” you explained.

“I see…” Shinichiro looked down at his drink, then drained the liquid substance into his throat as he eyed on you. “Didn’t mean to get drunk on you. It must’ve been a lot to take in.”

Shrugging, you said, “Nothing surprises me anymore.”

“Today’s my birthday.”

Smiling, you greeted him. But it remains noticeable when his expression wasn’t changing. “Sounds like you’re having a rough time. Do you want to talk about it?”

Placing the glass down, Shinichiro sighed, though his breath was uneven, shaking each time he exhaled. “I couldn’t celebrate without remembering that day.”

“What day?”

“The day when my brother passed away.” Shinicihiro’s steadied hand shielded on his face. “I couldn’t bear to acknowledge of my brother’s passing with acceptance. It’s all of my fault. If only I didn’t buy the airplane.”

“You’re only trying to make him happy. I don’t think it’s your fault,” you reasoned.

“But it was,” he objected. “I didn’t watch him closely. With much responsibility, I had to make sure I do everything I can to make him stay alive, hoping for the better result. Deep down, I knew that his condition got worse. Even his friends saw him the last time. If only I didn’t make that little error, it could’ve change everything. I shouldn’t have bought that plane.” By then, Shinichiro broke down into tears.

You scooted closer to him, rubbing on his back as your arm encompassed him, emitting a hush sound. “Shhh…everything will be alright, I know this. Even when your brother passed away, I’m sure that, somewhere, his soul is at peace. I’m sure that he’s happy that you took care of him the entire time.”

“I neglected everything that surrounds me. I neglected Emma,” he reasoned. “She packed and left, not knowing where she is. My grandfather died. And Mikey was the only family I have left. I have no one in my life now.”

“You have friends,” you assumed.

“My friends won’t understand,” he wept, sniffling. “That’s why I got drunk, because of Wakasa. He wanted me to get my mind off of Mikey by dragging me into a club and get a girl to mingle with. It wasn’t great. I was zoning out from life before me. I wasn’t having it.”

Your hand smoothed his back, noticing his breath began to steady after releasing the frustration he held in. Your eyes prickled with hot sensation, trying not to breakdown in front of him, but came up with a notion of subsiding the emotional pain. “I have 3 large packs of ice cream in the freezer. Sometimes desserts can set a good mood and lessens the tension. Just tell me which flavor you want and I’ll scoop it up for you.”

Shinichiro’s heart thudded. It wasn’t the alcohol again. One thing’s for sure for how the sensation clamored inside him. He felt…light. And right. Everything’s…quiet. His heart rate dissipated to tranquil as his eyes looked at you. Deep into the very soul of your eyes, he felt himself tranced, balanced between mind and heart—his old self was dying to get out. But each time he wants it out, the flooding memories of his old life might hurt him again. He wanted peace now. But how he can have peace when being silent within consistency. He’s not a young leader rebelled Black Dragons anymore. He’s just a young man with a burden scarred him.

You leaned back, separating yourself from him. “We’ll eat every junk food up. I swear, this can be the best method, but taking care of yourself in a healthy lifestyle. But first, junk food!” Then slowly, you stood up. “I know a place where they have the best pizza and burger and nacho cheese—nacho cheese are great! It comes with blue raspberry slushy, or cherry, if you like it more than the blue raspberry. And we could watch any movie that you like—trust me, watching comedy can be fun! Oh, and if you want something else, we can order sushi but with wasabi and katsu curry, and then we can add another pile of food we can ea—”

Snatching your wrist, he pulled you in for a kiss. Groaning, your long locks tucked back under his hand, tangling his tongue with yours, saliva thickened as you two share a heated passion he yearned. You nearly collapsed at his sudden yank, nearly knocking off the coffee table, but Shinichiro remedied it with his both hands steadying you by the waist, slithering the lines on your body. With a quiet hum, his lips lead to nibbling your cheek, kissing it lightly, almost his softer side is shown.

“You’re tickling me,” you sighed in exhilaration.

He pulled his head to see your flushed expression. “Where have you been all of my life?”

“Studying and doing things alone by myself without anyone being there for me,” you answered, cheeky. In a flash, you gave him a wink.

“Gee,” Shinichiro began, “I find it hard to believe that a beautiful woman is standing before me.”

Shaking your head, you said, “I’m not beautiful.”

Refusing your reply, “Beautiful doesn’t cover up how it feels or looks. I just know a beautiful soul when I see one.”

You said nothing, eyeing him with anticipation glimmering from your eyes.

“It’s pretty corny,” he admitted, his face flushed, index finger scratched the cheek below the eye.

Your hand rested on his face. “God, you’re so cute!” Tip of your nose rubbed against his as you let out a tiny squeal. Shinichiro watched you, his heart elated, eagerly pulling you closer to his body frame even though your bodies touched, he deepened the force, leaving you gasping, though not in a bad way.

“You want to get to know each other more? Unless you want to take a nap, it’s up to you,” you asked, eyes sparkling, hands wrapped around his neck, your lips are inches away to poke his.

His dark, cloudless eyes burned into your eyes as you watched it gleam. The misery etched on his lips faded into something more.

~~~

The door slammed open as you shared another long kiss with Shinichiro without falling or looking at your surroundings. Quiet sighs as your kisses went sloppy, and hungrier than the first. Once he rested you on an open futon bed, he placed you, laying down on your belly.

“Aaahh, Shinichiro!” your moans erected as Shinichiro took off of your tights shorts and spanked you ass.

“You’re such a slut, do you know that?” he said, his breath tickled your ass as he gave no warning when his teeth gnawed on your naked skin.

“Ahh,” you moaned out once more, turning yourself around as your legs spread before him. “Please fuck me! Right here, in my wet pussy. Lick me, fuck me, destroy me.”

Shinichiro watched as his stature towere over you, a beguiling creature displayed before him. He has collected porn than dates in his lifetime, but seeing you, he wanted to take a slow, showing trust as newfound partners.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” his voice had gone indistinct.

But you can distinguished the mood in his tone.

“You won’t hurt me,” you assured him, indicating him to move closer. “You won’t hurt me,” you repeated, plopping your kisses.

Shinichiro took into a consideration and unrestricted his attire. His black, baggy shirt came off as his pants are assisted by you. When his pants came undone, your hands clamped on his underwear, brought down as you spotted thick and lush hairlines—his happy trail downwards to his long and thick cock, leaking out with thick semen. His cold fingers pressed your tattooed skin, numbed clit throbbed at his touch.

Shinichiro could see your eyes begging him to rut you. His hands splayed and held your leg, kissing your inner thigh, then your lips as his cock shoved into your tight walls. With your wailed moans, Shinchiro sped his stamina. He hasn’t felt this good since the Black Dragon days. He had spent his life chasing girls who don’t approve of him, not even his weakened state, not even at his worst, or even as himself. His days during with Mikey, he rarely looked at girls, even when girls asked him to be their date, they only do it to get closer to Wakasa or Takeomi. Shinichiro is neither like them. Wakasa is quietly fierce while Takeomi is a chaotic and unruly. They both get girls but none of them stick in the next few months. With Shinichiro, he wanted something more than a simple date. Realizing his family his gone, all that’s left for him is to make a new one, but diving further to despair was the only way.

“More! Yes!” you groaned loudly, gyrating. His hot and thick cock fit you perfectly. The tip of his long, hardened cock pressed roughly against your g-spot. With a hot wave clambered into your body, Shinichiro picked up his pace and slammed it again onto your g-spot, earning a louder moans compare to previously. Fingers clawed onto his lanky, muscular backside, Shinichiro felt wet and warm blood stinging in cold air. His thrusts grew harder; with his few pounding movements, he felt your walls tightened, twitched against him.

“Shin,” you wailed into his hair, biting your lower lips.

“Argh,” he said, “hold me tight, baby.”

Despite the bleak memories he held with him, it was about time to end.

Tip of his cock twitch, leaking a hot seed into your hole. With countless immeasurable sighs, your bodies melded into one when Shinichiro laid beside you and held you in his arms, face to face. “I love you, (y/n),” he said. “I want to spend the rest of my life getting to know you. Your wrongs, your struggles, your greatest strength and joy—everything. I want to be there with you until the end. I want us to stay together.” His hand brushed your locks. With his soft touch lingered, your heart prickled.

“I love you more,” you said, weeping.

He kissed atop off of your hairline, then your nose, lips, and rubbed his nose together with yours. “Will you please go on a date with me,” he said with a shy voice. He’s not like Wakasa or Takeomi, Shinichiro knows what he wanted, what he needed. With you, all his inner turmoil with work and personal life and Mikey’s passing, Shinichiro wasn’t worried anymore. Shinichiro wanted an eternal happiness with you at his side, even with a scorching hell in life, he rekindled.

Chortling, you said, “How can I say no to a handsome man like you?”

Not long after, your bodies shifted under the washed sheets, no longer needing the heater.

By the end of the night, after a total of five rounds of intensive sexual intercourse, Shinichiro’s head rested in between your breasts. His soft, and disheveled, black hair played in between your fingers. Kissing his messy hair, you said, “Happy Birthday, Shinichiro.”

~~~

When Shinichiro got out from your house after sharing wonderful breakfast and a heated kiss, he spotted Wakasa approaching him with dreadful silence.

With a smile, Wakasa uttered, “Are you winning, Shin?”

© kinggetou - all rights reserved.

please report if anyone decides to steal/plagiarize my work and notify me. thank you.

[rainylana]

A prequel.

Eddie Munson x female reader

warnings: cocaine use, language, sibling loss, depression and grief, angst.

summary: this is short and considered a prequel to a potential series if you guys want it enough. so please let me know! if not, i’ll leave it as is!

Eddie remembered your screams. He remembered them everyday. That was why he couldn’t sleep now. It was raining slightly, a soft sprinkle that wasn’t strong enough to put out his cigarette. He sat on the porch steps, elbows on his knees, eyes tired and drained, dark circles under his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a decent nights sleep.

He was sleeping on the couch tonight, after a fight he’d had with you, but it wasn’t giving him much comfort. Nothing did, these days. The only real joy he got was when he visited his uncle. He loved you very much, but the spark was disappearing day by day. And maybe that wasn’t fair to say, he couldn’t begin to imagine what you were going through. He absolutely could not. Eddie was lonely, he missed you and what you once had, but his girl was nothing but a shell anymore. He missed you terribly. 

It had been two months since your sister, Meredith had died, two months since that dreaded night that haunted everyone. It was like the world had stopped turning on its axis completely, like everyone had stopped breathing.

The friend group was trying it’s hardest to heal and move on from the tragedy of loosing their friend and the state that Max was in, but it was hard when they knew how much you were suffering. Eddie didn’t want to move on without you.

You weren’t doing well. You didn’t eat. All you did was sleep and drink. You were angry, a shell of who you once used to be, so vibrant and bright, now dull and hallow. You didn’t think it was fair that Max had lived and Meredith had died. Even though Max was only living by the machine, her body was still living, her heart still beat, even if her soul was lost somewhere. Max was still here and Meredith wasn’t, and that just wasn’t fair.

Eddie put his cigarette out on the wood railing, hurrying up when the rain started to fall harder. He shook his hair like a wet dog when he came inside, squinting his eyes in the darkness of his home. He went back to your shared bedroom, gently climbing back into bed and resting his arm above his head.

You were snuggled against the pillow, lips parted as you breath in deeply. You must of been having a peaceful sleep, he figured. You didn’t get much of it, as you were usually awakened by night terrors. He brought up his finger to swipe your lip gently, sighing in exhaustion.

“I don’t know how to help you, baby.” He whispered, practically mouthing the words as if you could hear him. He just didn’t know what to do. You were becoming grey, lifeless. Your hair was matted and your face was drained, skin pale and bruised in places.

A wave of ptsd came over him, hearing your screams and your sister’s lifeless body torn to shreds by the demobats. He swallowed harshly, blinking away tears so he wouldn’t wake you up. He missed Meredith so badly, everyone did. It practically killed him for you to go through this pain, killed him because he couldn’t understand it.

He didn’t know how to help.

•

“Where the hell have you been?” You snapped, pacing back and forth wildly. “I’ve been waiting for hours!”

“I know, I know!” He apologized quickly as he rushed inside. “I know, I’m sorry, baby, there was a hold up. The guy-”

“I don’t give a fuck! Just give me my shit!” You barked, stomping toward him and grabbing the bags he carried, turning the upright for the contents to spill on the floor. You rummaged through it till you found your ziplock bag of coke, rushing to the table to dump out a little. Eddie watched as you lined it with a credit card, catching his breath against the wall. You huffed out a breath of relief as you snorted the little white lines, wiping your nose after the second one. You shakily sat down, hands shaking from your intense withdrawal.

“What?” You locked eyes with him.

He shook his head, pushing himself off the wall as he bent down. “Nothin’.” He started picking up his stuff.

“Looks like you got something to say.” You challenged, pushing back your unbrushed hair.

Eddie signed, zipping up his backpack as he tossed it to the side. “Y/n, it’s nothing, honey.”

You glared at him before you decided to drop it. “How was your day?” You asked, starting to feel calmer.

“Was just fine.” He sat down across from you. “Another day at the office.”

You nodded, placing your hands on the table as you stared off into space. Eddie very much regretted letting you get into his stash, but he’d been so desperate for anything to help you. He didn’t realize what kind of hole you’d fall into. You were hooked and it was his fault. It had been a few days since he was able to get more, so you’d been extra worked up. You took anything he had, but cocaine was what really had it’s grasp on you. Being high was the only joy you could really fathom.

“Don’t you think you should watch what you’re doing?” He looked at you through his lashes, nodding down to the bag between you.

You knew what he was talking about, but you raised a brow. “Huh?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” He said. “Your becoming too dependent on this. Don’t you think it’s time you slow down?”

You looked at him in hypocrisy. “You’re the one who fucking gets me this shit, Eddie.” You scoffed, voice sore and hoarse from previous crying sessions. “I can’t stop. It helps me, you know that.”

“I know.” He closed his eyes. “But maybe you should consider stopping. You’re becoming..too…I don’t know, you just need to stop, y/n. We’re all worried about you.”

You shook your head, a lump building in your throat. “So, what are you saying? Not gonna give me what I want anymore? You’re just gonna let me suffer. You know I need it!” Your voice cracked with tears and he looked down guiltily.

“Angel, please,” He pleaded, fisting his hands on the table. “Please, you need to get some kind of help! Anything! Just not this. I’m sorry for getting you started, it was stupid and I shouldn’t have done it. I just wanted you to feel better, but I should of realized what it would do. But baby, it’s been two months since she died.” He begged you, shaking his head with every word, hoping to get through to you. He reached out to grab your hands.

“Please, open up to me.” He begged. “Please, tell me what I can do.”

The mention of your sisters passing made you shed a tear, pulling your hands away from Eddie’s. “Just get me what I need. That’s what you can do for me.” You got up and left him at that, disappearing into your room.

Eddie stared at the table, allowing his eyes to burn with tears as he choked on his breath.

•

The weight of your sobs was causing you pain, your chest was on fire and you felt like the contents of your stomach would come up any moment. You couldn’t breath. You tried again and again to get air into your lungs, but you couldn’t. This feeling, this ache of grief in your heart was the single worst thing you’d ever felt in your life. If it wasn’t for Eddie, you’d surely kill yourself.

Your eyes were wide and you knelt down to the wood steps below you, gripping your chest as you hyperventilated. You were so loud that the neighbors dog was staring at you, pulling back it’s ears in confusion. You cried and you wept with your broken heart, shaking and sobbing as it started to rain yet again, but you couldn’t move from your spot.

She was too young, too sweet and too innocent. She was only sixteen. She had her whole life ahead of her. You didn’t even get to say goodbye. Eddie had dragged you away as the upside had caved in on itself. Her body was still there, a rotten, soulless corpse. You had no family, only Eddie, but you still felt alone.

You didn’t hear him burst outside in the pouring rain, grabbing your shoulders as he hurried to get you out of the weather. You sobbed as he wrapped his arms around your wet body, lifting you into his arms as he carried you inside.

He sat on the couch with you in his arms, holding you like a newborn baby. He rocked you, closing his eyes as he laid his head against yours, the weight of your heartache hitting him like knives to his heart. He didn’t shush you, didn’t tell you it would be okay or give you promises of false hope. He just held you. He’d done this time and time again, and holding you was the only thing he could truly do.

[azrielsshadows42]

A Court of Scales and Fire I

a/n: chapter 1 is here! I currently have a few assignments piling up so, it will probably be a few days before chapter 2 is up, sorry.

Warning: Mentions of injury, swearing, it does get steamy when shifting to the night court but no outright smut, lmk if I missed anything

prologue Character Mood Boards

Bold = Ancient language

Italics = thoughts

Both = mind speak

Word Count: 2994

Y/n woke up feeling stiff, her limbs ached, and her neck hurt from the weird angle. She looked around, wondering what time it was and remembered that they were in a cave. She would have to go outside if she wanted to find out. "Hey, Everest" she whispered while pushing gently on her long, scaled neck, fire light reflecting off to create green light patterns on the walls and ceiling. She got a low tired growl in return and rolled her eyes. "I'm going to see if I can find anything to heal you, maybe get some food while I'm at it. Stay here, I'll be back as soon as I can" Everest finally opened her eyes and looked at Y/n with worry. She didn't like the idea of being alone, especially not in a place she didn't know, but Everest knew she couldn't go with Y/n in her state and sighed with resignation. Be careful. She warned. When am I not? Everest's eyes landed on her with a deadpan expression. I hope something attacks you.

Love you too, Everest she thought with a laugh and left their little alcove of safety.

Y/n stepped out gingerly, it was still dark No shit, we're in a cave, but it wasn't as dark as yesterday, chinks of light streamed through miniscule cracks where entrances had once been. She looked through her bag and found the branch she usually used as a torch, they still didn't know if they were alone here. From what she could tell, this place was massive. She needed to find another exit, or the one they had used yesterday, because there was no way she could move those rocks, which means she needs to actually be able to see. "Everest!" she yelled back. Not a second later, a burst of green fire came from where Everest rested and landed a few steps away from her. The flames faded to orange, and they stayed lit just long enough for Y/n to lower the branch into the flames so it could catch fire. "Thank you!"

Now being able to see, she wandered around, what she saw shocked her completely. She knew this must've been fae made by the arch ways she had seen in the limited light this morning, and she knew it was big because of the way everything echoed, but this place was massive and extravagant and...

...completely wrecked.

It looked as though it had once housed at the very least, thousands of fae. There were rows of balconies jutting out of the walls where people could watch whatever was going on below. There was smooth flooring, tapestries of... something lining the walls, but too dirty to discern what, things were lying everywhere either broken, toppled over or, most likely, both. The entire place was in a state of disarray, it was like whoever had been here before had tried to leave it as trashed as possible. Either that or they had left in a rush, Y/n didn't want to think of that possibility, because that would lead to the question; why? What had driven them out? And more importantly, was it still here? She shivered at the thought.

She found a way out of the cave and started searching for any familiar plants, specifically ones with healing properties. After an hour or so of foraging for anything helpful, she collected some Calendula, Lemon Balm, Rosemary, Gingko and some Tea tree sprigs. She was about to return to Everest when something caught her eye. A small cabin in a clearing, maybe someone lived there. Maybe they could help, maybe they would attack. Friend or foe?

Do I want to take the chance? She mused to herself. Slowly, with her guard high, she crept closer, closer... closer. What is that smell? Y/n sniffed around her and realised the stench was coming from the hut. It's putrid She thought, like a rotting corpse and decided that whether it was friend, foe or empty, it wasn't worth getting nearer.

snap!

She whirled around, lightning fast and unsheathed her twin blades scanning her surroundings like her life depended on it. It just might. Stated a voice in her mind that sounded annoyingly like her old trainer, the one who had taught her how to wield her katanas. Just then a pair of glowing, blue eyes shined beyond her, pining Y/n to the spot with its gaze. It arrogantly strolled toward her, as if it knew it had already won.

The beast in front of her looked like a panther, except it had a scorpion-like tail, and a shimmering navy coat. Y/n dropped her bag and got into fighting position. Let's dance kitty-cat

Its slit eyes glimmered as if it had heard her thoughts and lunged. She rolled to the left, got up, and swiped at its side, but she didn't hit her target as it had moved too quickly Stupid cat reflexes. The beast had already recovered and before she could even think, a large deadly claw raked across her side, though all that happened was that she was knocked off her feet and hit the ground. Hard. Yep, that's definitely gonna bruise, ow.

The scorpio-panther thing launched itself on top of her, pinning her arms to the side. The things' tail reared up, and then smashed into her side, a sickening crack was heard, and she couldn't tell if it was the beasts' tail, the scales that her armour was made of, or her ribs. Judging by the way the tail slammed into her side again, with just as much force, she'd guess one of the last two options. Bloody hell that hurts. Y/n needed to get this thing off her and fast because a few more jabs like that and it would pierce her armour. Then she would find out what the effects of the venom in the barb were and she really didn't want to find out.

"Get off me you psycho, aristo cats wannabe" Y/n managed to manoeuvre the sword she held in such a way that she could jab her attacker. She had tried to aim for the neck, but instead hit somewhere between the shoulder and collar bone. It was enough, it had growled in pain and shifted its weight enough for her to throw all her might into getting on top. She raised the katana above the chest and thrusted it down through the heart until her blade hit the earth beneath. The beast roared, shaking the leaves of the trees.

A paw swung for her, all claws extended, but reflexes set in, she rolled off, just in time. The thing stood, and tried to run, but it looked more like a pitiful, limping, jog. It only got less than 3 feet away before collapsing onto the hilt, pushing her katana in further. There was silence once more. Not the same silence as when she had first arrived, the ringing in her ears quite loud, but she still held her breath, as if hearing her breathing would somehow make it less dead.

Y/n stepped toward it, kicked the body to make sure it was dead, and wasn't gonna turn around like Psych mother fucker! and kill her. She almost jumped out of her skin when it's tail twitched but it didn't do much else. After staring at it for a good five minutes, she turned it over, yanked out her blade and retrieved her bag from where she had momentarily discarded it. Now to find my way back to Everest...

It had taken her alot longer than she'd like to admit to find her way back but, she had managed. She walked in and felt her way along the walls to find the alcove again, once she did, she threw the bag in and crawled in after. The bag had hit Everest, and while it hadn't hurt her, it had woken her up. Everest glared at the opening, her face lit underneath by flames but once she saw Y/n, specifically the cracked armour, her face turned to surprise and worry. Are you okay?! she asked frantically. "No" Y/n answered with a playful scowl, "You jinxed it, I was attacked by something"

Everest whipped her tail around to support Y/n and guided her close to the fire. She sat down, opened her bag and got out the herbs, mortar and pestle. I'm fine Everest really, just a few bruises, She tried to smile but it turned into a wince when she shifted, And maybe a broken rib...

In response, Everest moved to lie in such a way that Y/n would be most comfortable, but wasn't particularly comfortable for her as it crushed one of her wings a bit. Thanks Ev. She started to grind up the plants to make a salve for the both of them while wondering what Ethari would have to say about this when she got back, their last conversation running through her head.

---Flashback---

"Y/n no, you cannot go to Prythian by yourself" "I won't be by myself, I'll have Everest" She supplied, not even bothering to look over her shoulder at him as she packed. "It's too dangerous" he insisted. "I'll be fine" She drawled, finally glancing in his direction. They had been going at this back and forth for the better part of an hour after Y/n's mission had been assigned to her. "Y/n, please" "Please what? Shrug off the duties I trained for years to have? Ignore my commanding officer? Think about exactly what you're asking me to do Ethari" she argued turning back to finish packing.

"I know exactly what I'm asking you" "No, you don't. Not taking this could risk my position as a tracker" she reasoned "Well taking it could risk your life!" He exploded. Y/n turned toward him, waiting for him to continue. "I can't lose you Y/n I-" he paused. "I just can't" she looked at him lovingly, walked up to him, and placed both hands on either side of his face. "Don't worry bud, I'll be back before you know it, and then you'll ask yourself why you even missed me in the first place" A hint of mischief glimmered in her eyes "Besides I can't die yet, I still have to embarrass you in front of your girlfriend with all the childhood stories and photos" He groaned "Nevermind, take your time with the mission, take the scenic route, in fact, take all the scenic routes" she laughed at his quick change in attitude. "Did you really think you could hide the fact you have a girlfriend from me? Not a chance, you are terrible at keeping secrets, and I am amazing at discovering them" He sighed deeply and muttered under his breath about her being nosy all the time. "When I get back, and I will" She said staring pointedly at him "I expect details, AND dinner, can't forget about dinner" He groaned again, louder this time, more drawn out. "Why must you do this to me?" Despite his taller frame, Y/n still managed to pull him down, arm around his neck in a side hug. "Because I'm your big sister, and I love you" "Half-sister" he corrected "Cannot stress how unimportant that fact is. Look on the bright side, you have about 2 to 3 weeks to prepare her to meet me" His head fell into his hands so his next words sounded muffled "Pretty sure nothing could properly prepare anyone to meet the level of insanity you embody on a daily basis" Y/n grinned evilly "Well then you best get started shouldn't ya" She released him from the side hug and stood up, she grabbed his head with both hands and gave him an over exaggerated head kiss designed to make him cringe. Which it did so, mission 1 accomplished, now time for mission 2. He peeked through his fingers when she started speaking to him again.

"Bye Ethari, see you in 2 to 3 weeks, love ya!" she yelled right before purposefully falling backwards off the open pavilion. She fell for a few seconds before Everest swooped underneath her gliding towards Pryithian and away from her home, her life and her brother.

------Night Court POV------

"Rhysand!" Feyre squeals, grabbing his wrists and pulling them away from her. "What are you doing?" she asks him with wide eyes, heartbeat speeding up. "Trying to please my mate" he purrs lowly, nipping at her ear and slowly inching his way down her jaw, every centimetre punctuated with a kiss. "Though she is being very ungrateful"

"Rhysand" She chuckles breathily, tilting her head back to give him more space. "Azriel said he'd be here soon with an important report" he continued his ministrations down her neck, licking at her skin, thoroughly enjoying himself. "I fail to see your point Feyre darling..." He trailed off as he revealed more of her skin kissing further and further down. "Wow, willingly admitting to failing something with no prompting, who are you and what have you done with my mate?" He nipped at her stomach suddenly causing Feyre to look down and see him playfully glaring up at her. "Would you like me to continue or not?" She thought for a moment, she really didn't want Azriel to catch them at a bad time, but on the other hand...

Feyre's eyes fluttered between Rhysand and the door "Alright fine, I want you to continue, but quickly, before Azriel gets here" He grinned, eyes overflowing with unfiltered lust for his mate. Rhysand, now having her explicit permission, hastily ripped at her clothing, she mentally rolled her eyes, having long since given up the argument that there were ways to remove clothing without damaging them. He was just about to dive in like a fae starved when someone's knuckles rapped on their door. Feyre yelped and immediately wrapped herself in the duvet even though the door hadn't been opened.

It was Cassian's voice that came through the door. "Before you two get carried away making Nyx 2.0, Azriel's back, so make yourselves decent and then mosey your way on up to the office" Rhysand let out a long, deep, suffering sigh. They could hear Cassian's footsteps disappearing. Feyre giggled at Rhysand's dejected expression "Come on, time to go be High Lord" He looked wistfully over at her shredded clothing and sighed again "Fine, I suppose if I really have to" Feyre laughed again muttering "So dramatic, big Illyrian baby"

They walked into the office to see Cassian leaning against the desk arms crossed over his broad chest, Azriel was in the corner brooding, shadows swarming his shoulders. "So, what's this about?" Feyre asked as she and her mate walked inside "An energy surge Amren felt while she was in Summer with Varian" "Right, yes about that..." Cassian started "What? What is it?" They all looked to Azriel who, up to this point hadn't said anything, or even looked at them. Finally hazel eyes met the violet of Rhys', his High Lord, his brother, then shifted uneasily to Feyre's, his High Lady, his sister. Azriel swallowed, then spoke quietly, but not unclearly "You might want to sit down..."

---------Eris's Pov---------

Eris could not roll his eyes further back if he tried, he was in a meeting with all the lords of autumn and all they talked about was themselves Their positions in the court, their 'needs'. Not one of them had brought up the underpaid farmers, the villages that had to be repaired or the resources needed for said repairs. In fact, none of them talked about the people at all.

Insufferable, selfish, pricks

They all complained about trivial things, one of them even had the audacity to complain that his house was messier than usual because he didn't have enough servants. That decrease of servants he rambled on about, was because they had died, their families struggling to put food on the table while he sat here, on a velvet chair, saying the situation was unacceptable

All because he can't clean up after himself, like an incompetent child.

A loud knock sounded through the room, his general; Madoc, walking in with confidence. "High Lord" he greeted, dipping his head in respect. "General Madoc" Eris responded "Any news about the disturbance on our border?"

"That is exactly why I'm here" Eris raised his brow, a silent order to elaborate. "I strongly suggest this matter to be discussed elsewhere as the information is highly sensitive" That was code for: The lords shouldn't hear this, Madoc had been loyal to Eris during his father's tyrannical reign, he trusted his judgement. "Very well, Gentleman" he dismissed as he and general Madoc strode towards his office. "Another time"

The guards outside opened the door for them, and closed it silently, the wards against any sound from leaving the room locking in place. Eris gracefully walked around behind his desk, scanning its surface for the report he expected to be there, but was left empty handed. "Well?" Eris inquired

Madoc merely motioned for his High Lord to sit down. "I'm fine standing" "Please High Lord, I insist" Eris bristled at that. He was not some child to be coddled. "Tell me what you know General, or I will remove you from your position" He hissed through clenched teeth. Madoc knew it was an empty threat, there was no one better than him to oversee Autumn's army, but Madoc listened, nonetheless.

"Five groups of trackers were sent out, three hit dead ends, the other two..." He trailed off.

Eris's patience was wearing thin. "Spit it out, Madoc!"

"They tracked it to The Middle..." Eris felt his jaw clench, his back straighten, his fists tightening. He knew what the Generals next words were going to be but dreaded them all the same.

Please, not there, cauldrons anywhere but there

"Under The Mountain"

---------End---------

Chapter 2

a/n: I hope this chapter was worth it, I know you are probably wondering when they will meet, it should either be in chapter 2 or 3. Have a wonderful day further :)

[thesupreme316]

Girl I’m ready for the next part of Had it Coming 😩🫶🏼

Had it Coming (Part 5): Hook'sSister!Reader X Christian Cage, Reader X Jack Perry

Summary: It's been some months after the confrontation with Jack about your relationship. Are things still holding up strongly in your life?

Word Count: 2K (hehe...i need help)

Supreme Speaks: thank you guys so much for supporting this series and showing it love. aight look, this took a hot minute so please go easy on this. also, thank you so much for being patient and to my anons i hope you are still here. Please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: DARK PORTRAYAL OF JACK (tw: obsessive, stalking), explicit language, proofread i hope (if yall wanna help a sista out lmk hmu)

You thought that all of your problems were solved. You thought you were actually moving towards happiness yet again. But no, this shit can’t get any fucking worse.

It’s been approximately 6 months since you last saw Jack. For the first month, you kept receiving messages from him ranging from angry to sadness. You blocked his number but he was getting new phone numbers and using his friends’ phones to text you. You ended up getting a new number but that didn’t even stop him as he even began texting you on Instagram and Twitter.

It was driving you crazy, the constant noise of your phone going off, and the constant feeling that you were being watched. You started to seek therapy because of it and tried everything to distract you from it. Even Tony allowed you to take time off however much you needed to cope and heal.

But then one day and for the rest of the 5 months, he was radio silent.

It wasn’t because he finally got the hints though. It was because he signed to New Japan Pro Wrestling. Because they have a rigorous training and performance schedule, he didn’t have enough time to text you.

The new silence and peace allowed you to focus on other and more important things. You started wrestling again and actually made you feel better. You were winning more matches all by yourself, the crowd slowly but surely started to get behind you again, and you were rising up to be one of the top talents within the women’s division. You decided that being in the ring was the best course of action for your career, mindset, and peace. After all, there wasn’t much you could do in just a managerial position, besides supporting your boyfriend.

And speaking of your boyfriend, you two have been going through some challenges within your relationship. Christian was keeping a closer eye on you. He never allowed you to leave the house by yourself when you had days off, and when you were at work you were always escorted to your destinations. At first, it was endearing, however, over time it became smothering and overbearing. It was like Christian was becoming less of the person you fell in love with and more into a….

Bother.

After all, he hasn’t been catering to your needs or relationship, always focused on work. You’ve tried to tell him your feelings but he doesn’t seem to listen as he’s too absorbed with his career. And was too absorbed to even send you flowers like he normally does.

He began to get very obsessed with his TNT Championship and his rivalry with his former best friend, Adam Copeland. He started to wrestle even less than usual and just paraded around the building before going home. And then he became very obsessed with The Patriarchy, the name of his faction. Originally, it was just you, Christian, and Luchasaurus. But now, you were in and out of the picture, he changed Luchasaurus’ name to Killswitch, and he added Nick Wayne to the group, the same kid he embarrassed months ago. Which all contributed to why you’re sitting here in the group’s locker room now.

Killswitch was pacing around the room, shadowboxing the air. You were sitting on the couch listening to Nick Wayne and his various questions and stories about wrestling. He’s a sweet kid, a second-generation wrestler, and very curious just about life. His big brown eyes just lit up every time you offered him advice or laughed at his jokes.

“So Miss. Y/N-“

“Nick, I told you that you don’t have to call me that. Y/N is fine with me.”

“Oh okay, Y/N, has Mr. Cage always been very stoic? He seems to be very uptight.” Nick said in a whisper, careful to not let Killswitch hear.

You giggled as you looked towards the open door where Christian was loudly talking on the phone.“Yeah, but he knew how to relax, have fun, and make others a priority. But right now, he’s going through a phase.” Nick’s eyes widened at you as you cleared your throat. “He’s just a little on edge right now. But look at the bright side; you’re improving so much in the ring.”

Nick smiled at you, “Thank you! Mr. Cage has really been giving me great pointers. But I also wanna thank you for helping me with that submission move.”

“No problem, I-“ you started but cut yourself off when you heard Christian start to yell in the hallways. You excused yourself before going in the hallway and shutting the door. You grabbed his phone and put it up to your ear, making your boyfriend’s jaw drop. “I’m sorry for that. Mr. Cage is busy and will have to call you later. Thank you!” You said before hanging up the phone.

“Y/N-“

“You are being way too loud and you're going back to your old ways. This is the first time you’re yelling on the phone in months.”

His eyes cut at you and his tone grew to very stern, “That was a very important business-“

“Everything is very important business with you, right? The faction, your championship, but not your relationship. You’re focused on everything but me and I just ask if you can just once think about me.”

Christian’s face grew with confusion as he ran his fingers through his short dirty blonde hair. “Everything I do is for you Y/N. I fight for you, I protect you, I provide for you, especially ever since that day with Jack. But I’ve been trying to give you space since you feel smothered and whatnot.”

You huffed, upset that he hasn’t seen your ways yet, “Oh so that TNT Championship is for me? So this group is for me? Newsflash, all this is your doing and for your benefit but it wasn’t ever anything until I came into the picture. Has it ever crossed your mind that I feel smothered because I feel like I’m not in a relationship anymore? In terms of Jack, I’ve been doing a lot of healing but I cannot continue to heal if you’re holding me hostage like how he did.”

Christian’s eyes widened before shock, fear, and disappointment took over his eyes. It made your heart hurt, but it was something that you felt and you had to let him know. He stepped closer and leaned down, not taking his blue eyes off of you, “What are you trying to say?”

“I think you know what.” You whispered as his face was centimeters close to yours. The silence and air became so tense that you felt like you were suffocating. Before either of you could say something, his phone started to ring in your hand. He grabbed the phone and looked at the name.

“Go inside now. I’ll be there shortly.” He said as he turned his body away to answer the phone. Upon entering the locker room, you could have sworn his tone was more excited and softer…like how he used to talk to you. As you closed the door, Nick looked at you and gave you a soft smile. You sat next to him and began another conversation to wait out Christian.

Five minutes later, Christian came back into the locker room with something- someone in tow. She was a tall blonde woman, who was a little bit taller than Christian due to her heels. She looked like a supermodel. She was dressed in all black, matching your boyfriend’s actions. You looked over at Nick, whose eyes were about to pop out of his head. Already, you felt some off vibes. Christian cleared his throat to address the room.

“Everyone, I would like to introduce someone. This is will be my new manager,” Those words made both your stomach drop. However, him pulling flowers out from behind him to give them to her would make your heart drop. He continued, “and I’m sure she will be a great asset to The Patriarchy, please welcome Shayna-“

“Mom?” Nick’s voice shouted from beside you. Your eyes also began to pop out of your head. ”What is this?!”

“Nick, this is a business arrangement. This should be fun, I get more acquainted with the wrestling industry and I get to spend more time with you. Mr. Cage made me an offer that I couldn’t refuse.” She said giggling while leaning on his shoulder, making your boyfriend smile and chuckle. She rubbed his shoulder and flipped her hair while continuing to talk.

Normally, you wouldn’t get insecure about another woman near Christian but at this point, you couldn’t help it. It made your eyes and heart hurt, seeing them so comfortable together and for her to look like she naturally belonged next to him.

But also, it made you mad as hell that he was allowing someone else to showcase this behavior alone right in front of you.

To distract yourself, you started looking at your phone and you found two text messages. One was from your brother, Tyler, asking you to come see him as he had important news. From the looks of his text, which has no acronyms or emojis, you assumed that it was bad news. The other one was from an unknown number, you were about to unlock and read the text until a figure was standing over you. You looked up from your phone to see Shayna standing over you, with almost a smug smirk.

“You must be Y/N, I’ve heard a lot about you!” She said as her smirk transformed into a smile. You stood up and gave her a small fake smile. She extended her hand to you.

Looking at her hand, you said, “Nice to meet you. However, I should be going.” You stepped aside and headed towards the door.

“Killswitch, go with her,” Christian commanded as you opened the door. Killswitch started to make his way over to you.

You rolled your eyes saying, “These are family matters. I’m going alone.” Before slamming the door shut in Killswitch’s face. You quickly marched, damn near ran, to Tyler’s locker room.

You took a deep breath and opened the door. “Okay, you had no emotions in your text, is everything ok-” You looked up to see your brother…kissing a brunette woman.

Which at first you didn’t have a problem with.

Tyler quickly stepped away from the woman but soon grabbed her waist, turning her to you, to reveal all-too-familiar blue eyes mooning as she made an awkward smile.

“Anna?” You said with your voice hesitating. Anna Jay gave a small wave to you as Tyler scratched his neck and then ran his hand through his own hair.

Now, you have a problem with it. In a shocked state, turned around despite your brother’s protesting and asking you to let him explain. You shut the door and just kept walking down the hallway.

You were just shocked and angry. Your brother, whom you’re very close with just stood there making out with the same woman who was detrimental in the break up of your last relationship. You couldn’t help but think that all this trouble was karma catching up with you. After all, you did at first betray him to date his best friend and become his enemy at first.

As you’re trying to process what was happening between your relationship with Christian and your relationship with Tyler, your phone goes off to show you the message that you never opened. Your body naturally stopped in the hallway to pay attention to your phone. You swiped on your screen to reveal a message that sent chills down your spine and your phone crashing to the floor. Tears started to fill your eyes as you began to feel overwhelmed with all that was going on in your life. You dropped to your knees as you re-read the text with your tears hitting your now cracked phone screen.

Unknown number: 7:08 PM

Hey Y/N, I would like to talk and apologize to you…properly. Please text me back.

~Love, Jack

At this point, karma and trouble has caught up to you.

And you only had yourself to blame.

Taglist: @hookerforhook @hooks-martin @sheinthatfandom @triscillal @wwenhlimagines @kat04ie @batzy-watzy @cassie0sstuff  (lmk if you wanna be on or off my taglist, i don't bite)

[drconstellation]

More Half-and-Half-A-Miracle Thoughts

Part 3: The Third Archangel

Updated 10 Nov 2023

Part 1: Miracle Power Ranking is here Part 2: The Dark side of Aziraphale is here.

Before I try to put the full picture of the mighty miracle together, there is one other Archangel I want to talk about first, because yeah, if the "little" miracle had an Archangel x an Archangel x (ex-)Archangel in the equation, all working in synergy, that's some pretty serious potential power right there.

S2 has given us much to discuss about Crowley and his past. We know he is different in that he has an imagination. We know he is the only ethereal entity, angelic or demonic, who can stop time, which is no mean feat. I have a list of at least nine, possibly thirteen clues (it keeps growing! 21 clues And yes, I'm counting,) that he was once a

senior Archangel, one of the seraphim, before his Fall (but not which one in particular, for sure, alas. We can debate that later, its not important here. Really. Don't @ me about it, I'm not going to engage in this post.) They (updated link to a new discussion: the idea of Crowley previously being a very powerful angel) have all been mentioned already, none of them are new. This implies there is a huge amount of potential power that Crowley could pull upon to put into the miracle performed on Gabriel. So he is our obvious ex-Archangel in the equation.

And we already have Gabriel, in the middle.

Which just leaves us with Aziraphale, and his green-paneled waistcoat...

I've led you all on thinking he's somehow connected to Hell? Or been associating too long with Crowley? No. (Or maybe, yes? To hanging around a demon, I mean.) On one hand it does show us he is not like the other angels. On the other, it tells us something else altogether.

For all that I've been recently rabbiting on about dark horses pointing mainly to Crowley and Saraqael, we have perhaps been deftly misdirected from the biggest dark horse of all: Aziraphale as our 'missing" seraphim, Archangel Raphael, incognito.

Now, I'm certainly not the first person to suggest this at all. There have been multiple metas about it, even way back from S1. I agree with them, fwiw.

Why am I saying this now? I think this recent post about Aziraphale being present at Sodom and Gomorrah sealed it for me, especially since I had made a recent note about Raphael being the one to be assigned to escort Lot from Gomorrah. And for all that I've just discussed how dark Aziraphale can be, he is still clearly affected by what he witnessed that night, so long, long ago.

"Oh Lord, heal this bike."

Green is also the color primarily associated with Raphael, the healer. I've seen a few other colors mentioned as well (in fact, the more you search, the more confusing it gets) but mostly the color you'll see mentioned is green. And its the color Aziraphale conceals on the back side of his waistcoat. Plus he did heal Anathema (and her velocipede) back in S1 after they collided with the Bentley.

Finally, in the Islamic tradition, Raphael is known as Israfil, and he is essential to announcing the Day of Judgement, with a trumpet constantly poised at his lips, ready to blown when God so orders.

Guess who just got taken back to Heaven to start the Second Coming?

Edit: Since I first posted this, some additional information has come along to add to this. I finally bumped into a post about the wonderful golden collars in the Job minisode (It's so, so important to put at least one or two relevant tags for meta-writers like me to help find your posts readers! Then you can shit-talk in the tags all you like.) and that lead me to a webpage on basic angel symbology and the major angels, which helped to firm up a few things I'd been wondering about. One observation is angels usually go about bare-footed, but Raphael wears sandals when on Earth, as he is chief of the guarding angels, and is the guardian of the young, and watches over pilgrims and travelers. And who was wearing golden sandals during the Job minisode?

Doing some guarding of the young as well...

And Raphael is assigned to the direction of the East.

Now we have three Archangels, three seraphim, no less, side by side.

That's a mighty shitload of potential miracle power, whichever way you want to look at it. No wonder the ol' Metatrash got a bit nervous about what happened and decided to take a personal hand in things.

If your sitting there going "'Hang on, op, hang on just a darned minute - Aziraphale hasn't even been promoted to Supreme Archangel yet and Crowley could just be a Dominion, you don't know, and Gabriel's a drooling idiot, how could he contribute to it - " Just stop. Take a breath. Go back to Part 1 where I discuss the problems with our knowledge about miracle powers and their potential. Their potential. And its frustrating that in the end we just don't have enough knowledge to be certain.

So take this as my personal head-canon. I may not have really answered why the miracle was so strong. But as I said at the start, I don't think we can. Too many factors involved, too many unknowns. Too much hidden.

Bring on S3, I say!

[kay-wren]

I'll Come Running - R.C. - Chapter 39

*** Rafe drove away from JJ's house in a panic once he realized that Jessie really was gone and JJ really didn't know where she was.

Rafe couldn't contain his emotions, leaving him no choice but to pull over. Rafe stared out into the space of the dark road in front of him, only lit by the night sky. All the realization hit him at once as his lips quivered and he narrowed his eyes, trying not to let the tears spill out.

He almost hit Jessie. Over a simple conversation that she was totally justified in having. She wanted him off the coke. But she started it right? Rafe thought that argument was childish. He felt nothing but childish after the temper tantrum he threw at both Jessie and JJ. Rafe wondered what was wrong with him, he had been angry before, but he felt a new sense of helplessness... like he was spinning out of control and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Rafe finally let it all out. The sobs were ugly and reckless as he lost control of his breathing. Rafe had nobody there to calm him down, only the voices in his head.

Be a man. Men don't cry. Rafe heard his father's voice. The same words he heard when he was ten years old, and from that point forward. The words be a man plagued him everyday of his life. Those words were enough to make him dry his eyes, wipe his face, and somehow go completely numb inside. Ward always had that affect on Rafe.

Deciding not to let Jessie have any more of this night, Rafe called the only person he knew could fix this, but fix was a strong word, it was more like putting a bandaid over a bullet hole. Rafe didn't care.

"Man, what do you want? It's too late for this sh-"

"I'm coming over." Rafe interrupted Barry, who sounded less than thrilled.

"Man you were just here?!" Barry replied annoyance and disbelief. "Are you already out?!"

"Not yet, but I will be." Rafe responded with numbness that chilled even Barry through the phone. Rafe simply hung up and Barry knew it couldn't be good.

Barry did the only thing he could think to do: call Jessie. Him and Jessie had a very odd relationship, one that was constantly moving and changing, one minute she would be a smoke buddy, the next minute a buyer, and the next a bitch. It all depended on each other's mood, but in a weird way, Barry always felt bad for Jessie. After all, Jessie only started buying for her father, eventually letting it trickle into her life as well, and now Barry had a front row seat at watching the drug trap another man that Jessie cared about.

Barry called Jessie over and over again, to no avail. The fact that she didn't answer really concerned him, his mind began to wonder to the worst possible scenario, especially with Rafe being so... unpredictable at the moment.

Barry blew up Jessie's phone, every passing ring only adding to his worry, until he saw Rafe pull up. At this point Barry was just plain mad, knowing that Rafe must've had something to do with Jessie not answering her phone.

Barry was anxious to meet Rafe right in the middle of the yard, not letting Rafe come to him like he usually does.

"What the hell, country club? Why your girl ain't answering her phone?"

"Shit, I don't know man. Just leave me alone." Rafe mumbled as he put his hand in Barry's face and walked right past him towards the front door of the trailer. Barry couldn't believe the balls Rafe had on him at the moment, clearly not caring about anyone or anything. It was only a preview of the facade he would adopt for the next four years.

"You don't know? Bullshit you don't know Rafe! You know damn well where Jessie is! You better not have sent her into hiding until the bruises heal-"

"I didn't touch her, okay?!" Rafe screamed, not being able to take the mental gymnastics any longer. "And I'm not bullshitting you... I don't know where she is man!" Rafe explained still heated. He finally looked down at the ground then back up at Barry with more sadness behind his faded eyes. "She left."

"What the hell does that mean, she left?" Barry asked, trying to adopt the same demeanor of not caring, even though he clearly did, at least in a "she's my best customer" kinda way.

"She left. Are you slow or something?" Rafe laughed maniacally as he furrowed his brows and walked closer to Barry. Rafe had no regard for his life any more, and at this point he was looking for a fight— another defense mechanism he would become very familiar with over the course of the next few years.

"No I'm not slow you piece of shit!" Barry mouthed back as he shoved Rafe back. "You're just being vague as hell and it doesn't sound very convincing."

"Well I'm not worried about convincing you." Rafe whispered with a twisted smile. He began to look off into the dark distance. "I'm not worried about convincing anyone." He explained with a dark glint in his eye that Barry hadn't seen before. "So you got more coke or not?" He asked, this time a little more in touch with reality.

"Yeah..." Barry trailed off as he was trying to read whatever Rafe was fantasizing about behind those eyes, he was unsuccessful. Barry just walked inside, looking over his shoulder, feeling like Rafe could easily kill him quickly and quietly with the way he was acting.

"Take your shit and leave." Barry snapped as he took the money from Rafe.

"It was good to see ya." Rafe said as he turned and walked away with a smile Barry couldn't see.

Rafe climbed back into his truck and sped off, pulling out his phone to call the only other person on this island he could count on. 

"What the hell, man? Do you have any idea what time it is?" Topper's voice sounded through the other line. 

"Yeah, yeah, man, whatever. Hey, party at my house tomorrow night. My parents will be out of town. Invite anyone. Party of the century man." The line went dead for a couple seconds. 

"Anyone?" 

"Anyone." 

- - - 

Music was blaring. Bodies were taking up almost the entire first floor of the house. If there was one thing about Topper, he knew how to throw a rager. Kooks, tourons, even pogues were at the Cameron's that fateful night. But Rafe said anyone, right? At that point Rafe didn't really care, the more people the better. Every person was just one more distraction for Rafe Cameron to forget about the one person he wanted to see there. To say it didn't work was a lie, it did work, and that's what threw Rafe into four years of sex, money, and drugs. The parties, the drugs, the fights, seemed to be the closest thing to numbing the pain. 

Rafe made his way around to everyone at the party, slapping his friends on the back and saying hi to everyone he could. The smile on his face was bold, but not the same one he used to beam when he had his Jessie around. 

"Dude, you were right. This is the party of the century! I'm pretty sure some girl is topless in the pool right now." Topper laughed as he met Rafe in the kitchen to pour himself another drink.

"I knew it would be, thanks to you." Rafe replied as he squeezed Topper's shoulders. "But hey, the real party's upstairs." Rafe trailed off with a smirk and a raise of his eyebrows. Topper searched Rafe's bloodshot and watery eyes for a semblance of what that meant, and he thought he had a pretty good idea. Up until tonight Rafe was decent at hiding his coke addiction from his friends and family, Jessie really was the only one who ever saw it, and for good reason. 

"Dude... what do you mean?" Topper asked with a hint of worry to his face. He figured Rafe's newly disheveled and reckless state had to be tied to whatever he was referring to upstairs.  

Rafe didn't reply with words, only a swift nod of the head as if to say come with me.

The sound of the party faded into the distance as Topper followed Rafe up the winding wooden staircase, to be met with a new smell, one that replaced the smell of sweaty bodies and alcohol and was replaced with a smell of skunk and other substances. Topper had a feeling he knew where this was going. 

Rafe opened the door to a spare bedroom, smart enough not to let anyone use his room for such activities. After all, his room was a mess anyways, he hadn't cared to clean it ever since Jessie left. He had let himself go in just about every way possible, and his room was no exception. 

Topper was met with a sight to behold, plenty of people doing lines right off the glass table and  enough weed to go around for the rest of the night. 

"Dude," Topper harshly whispered as he pulled Rafe's shoulder so he would face him. Topper looked less than impressed, and Rafe didn't look too fond of the judgement Topper was so clearly giving him either. "Are you insane? W-What you're into hard drugs now? Is that why Jessie left?" Topper snapped with furrowed brows. He had never seen Rafe so wild and careless, the kook king was typically anything but those two things. 

"Don't" Rafe snapped back with a little too much force, he stopped himself from laying a hand on Topper as he withdrew his fist and let his hand hang loosely beside him. "... talk about Jessie, okay? She's gone. And this night isn't about her." Rafe mumbled with a sly smile, trying to play it off like he didn't almost just pummel his best friend over speaking the name of the love of his life. He had successfully managed to dodge those questions and those feelings tonight, and Topper clearly just ruined that streak, making Rafe feel like he definitely needed a line now. 

Considering the newfound mix of emotions Rafe was feeling, he did just that. He went over to the glass table, not bothering to pay anyone considering it was his coke and lined up the white powder just right before taking a quick drag and sniffling soon afterwards. Topper still couldn't believe his eyes, he genuinely thought he was dreaming. 

"Okay, seriously," Topper began as he rubbed his head, "did someone slip something in my drink or did you just do coke right in front of me?" Topper asked. Rafe just stood up from the couch and laughed. 

"Dude, you're not hallucinating. And you need to chill, it's just something to take the edge off." Rafe replied as he patted Topper's shoulders. 

"Why're you doing this Rafe? Why're you throwing your life away? You know that's where this leads, right? You're starting to act like a po-"

"Shut up, man!" Rafe corrected Topper as he gave him a swift and forceful shove. Rafe gritted his teeth as the words left his mouth, clearly fed up with the accusations. 

Rafe already felt his life had been thrown away, and that was long before Jessie ever entered the picture. Rafe got dangerously close to Topper, this time looking him dead in the eyes with his chest moving rapidly and his blown pupils looking strait at Topper's normal ones. 

"The rest of my life is going to be filled with kook dinner parties, kook business deals, and all other kook shit. For just one night, I wanna have a little fun." Rafe said through anger, doing a great job at disguising the hopelessness he had been feeling since Jessie left, the same hopelessness he had when he met her that night at the Island Club, the same hopelessness that Jessie so effortlessly relinquished him from. 

Whether it was through fear or pity, Topper received the message loud and clear, only nodding his head, not daring to peel his eyes away from Rafe for one second for fear of what he could do to him. Rafe noticed one thing in particular about the past 24 hours. Barry and Topper seemed to look at him differently, with a newfound fear-no, respect- for Rafe Cameron. Rafe thought maybe this is what his father was meaning all those years, maybe this level of reverence was what Ward was trying to instill in him, and he just never found it until tonight. Rafe started to relish the way everyone looked at him, like he held all the power in the room, like he was unstoppable, unapproachable, and untouchable. He loved it. 

What started as a night meant to mask the heartache turned into a lifestyle of commanding the room. 

[azriel-landsayd]

Azriel held his hand out to grip Nephele’s wrist to halt her from walking any further. “Here, we will take a rest here.” It was more than he usually took. But he could not help it. The grassy feel was welcomed, the air breezing by. He felt his body had grown largethic in the past few days, and he was not getting any better. He had not admitted to Nephele, he did not wish for her to see him as weak and try to escape. They were being held back because of him now, he unpacked slowly before he finally just laid down in the grassy field. Feeling his body growing weaker, but he was unsure of how he came to be ill. He could not make sense of it. Had Nephele managed to slip him something? She would not dare? They were fucking, and she surely looked all too pleased riding his cock, the image of her on top, her large breast bouncing her pretty face filled with pleasure. No, she could not, and aside the pendent he wore protected him from magic, gripping the pendent now. The intricate design of the pendant, adorned with mysterious symbols, held immense magical power. Azriel knew that much. A few months ago, her father had approached him and offered a deal he could not refuse. With his own mother being ill, and his sister taking care of her. He never refused a well-paid job, no matter how questionable. His head pounded with a relentless, throbbing ache, as if tiny hammers were chiseling away at his skull. Beads of perspiration formed on his forehead despite the gentle breeze, and a queasiness churned within his stomach. The source of his affliction? The pendant, that hung around his neck, pulsated faintly with an otherworldly energy. One Azriel could not feel. “Darling.” He finally relented, he was given no choice but to trust her. He worried it would be misplaced, that she would flee, and he would die in this field. It would be well-deserved, he did not question that. He had kidnapped her and bound her like an animal, their dynamic only changing because they enjoyed each other bodies. “I am not sure if you noticed, but I feel like shit.” He spoke quietly, as if he were trying to conserve his energy but wore his trademark smirk. “I do not know what is wrong with me. I need to get to a healer, the village is only half a day away.” Azriel spoke, closing his eyes as he lay there. Remembering that she was gathering healing herbs when he kidnapped her, now turned his head slightly to meet her gaze. For the first time, noticing how warm they were. Brown, but not dark. They reflected light, the smirk turning into a gentle smile, “you have very pretty eyes, has anyone ever told you that?” For the first time, sounding sincere, and perhaps he was. Even in sickness, her beauty still stood to him. Breaking the trance, he felt like he was being pulled into. “Do you think you could fix me up, darling?” He asked her, but she was his only hope. He did not believe he was so close to death, it was only a sickness. Azriel was sure it could be cured, perhaps some food did not sit well, or he simply got a cold. “Go on, go into town.” He stated, finally moving closer to her and unbinding her from his handy work. He was good at tying complex knots that were not easy to undo for the common man. Digging into one of his leather pouches and grabbing a few gold coins. He was handing everything to her for her to flee with ease, he was ill. She had the gold and into town, she could and should honestly. He had no idea what her father’s intentions were with her, but why should he care? He was only paid to deliver her. The fucking was just an extra. Azriel watched her as she gathered herself, and soon she was walking toward the village, watching her until her body disappeared from his view. “Please come back.” He whispered softly into the wind.

Minutes turned into hours as Azriel lay gasping for respite, his strength weakening with each heartbeat. Visions began to flicker before his eyes, flashes of possible futures that twisted and contorted with each passing second. His mind became a battlefield, the pendant's magic clawing and manipulating his thoughts, blurring the line between reality and illusion. Awaiting the return of his Nephele, but would she? Doubt also gnawing at him.

[tonight-i-may-see]

🦋 🦴 🍅 🐚 🪲 ☁️🐝 hehehe

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately 

I've been thinking a lot about healing, the past...a lot of years HDJFNF have brought a lot of trauma for me and I've realised that healing sometimes doesn't mean fixing. Sometimes healing is accepting that it happened and moving on, or accepting that something is a part of you and moving on.

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing? 

Usually whatever I'm watching, right now it's CM, but in terms of writing style not really? I kinda just do my own thing. Same with scriptwriting 🤷‍♂️

🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing

I really need to work on integrating dialogue into scenes better, a lot of my fics either barely have any or straight up don't and its kind of an issue

🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises?

It depends I think, I like them if I know they're coming, like 'I've got a surprise for you' is great, but people just springing things on me (mostly if it's plans) can really really throw me off and upset me (shoutout to autism ‼️🗣🔥🫡)

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

(this is more than 50 but idc)

"Unconsciously, he seems to have shifted one of his legs closer to you. Spying an opportunity, your knees shuffle to either side of his foot and you pull him from your mouth- eliciting a choked grunt from Aaron- and start using your hand instead as you roll your hips to grind against the black leather of his lace up boots."

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

honestly it was a shot in the dark bc I thought it'd already be taken but it wasn't somehow, I wanted something cm related that still felt like a username, so I took out the 'in' in 'wheels up in 30' and boom

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

@hotchfiles you were one of the first people to start interacting with me when I was still on my old sideblog, and talking to you behind the scenes too has just been very fun, you're very kind and have been so welcoming :)

@de4dlyniightshade my pookie wookie super dookie...you aren't on here a lot but I'm so excited to play silly horse game with you tomorrow :3

@softhairedhotch honestly getting to dm with you and come up with oc and hotch shit and just talk to someone who's pretty similar to me has been the highlight of my day since we started <:) you're a really cool guy

@mandarinmoons you're always in my notifs and I get so excited seeing your name HEHE

@ssahotchnerr I'm tagging you bc you're honestly the person that inspired me to get back into writing and make the old sideblog in the first place, I wouldn't be here or know these people otherwise so thank you for always killing it in your writing <3

@ficmeoutofthisworld I was always so scared of interacting a lot w ppl but the way you've rbd and replied and dmd me in the few months I've been here has really brought me out of my shell <:) tysm <3

@ralvezfanatic THE REAL MVP OF RALVEZ TY FOR OPENING MY EYES AND BEING IN MY NOTIFS ALWAYS KING 🔥🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️💯💯💯

[siblingskissing]

Why is incest/encouraging (minor x adult relationships)/illegal relationships/sexualisation of minors etc. something that you feel very strongly about and that you feel is okay to share and express?? Just some sick fantasy or a joke? Does it arouse you? Do you genuinely take pride in these strange posts or is it just for the shits and giggles?? Just curious.. and I little overwhelmed, thats all —its not everyday you come across these type things. It makes me sad that this seems serious. But would suggest help from a professional if not been already. lastly, I apologise for mistaken words or misuse of grammar as English is not the first language. No hateful intent. Grateful for your time.

Hi! So usually I don't respond to asks like these but you were very generous with your wording so i don't mind explaining this here. No one send hate to this person because this is a genuine question and I appreciate the kindness in your tones.

My content is a cooing mechanism used by MANY people in order to deal with trauma. All these scenarios and posts are not meant to encourage real life acts but rather fictional scenarios that I (and others) have control over and can cope with.

I'm not gonna share my traumas- no one deserves to know that information and no one needs to hear me talk about it. But my point is: Me making posts about two characters I like in (admittedly) dark scenarios where I can control the outcomes and situations in a perfectly safe way is my way of healing. Many therapists encourage this and my page is a safe haven for others who do this/ like dark content scenarios.

I never encourage people to act on things of this nature in real life. I never encourage people to treat fiction and reality as the same thing.

Think for a moment on people who make horror movies. Subjects like murder, torture, SA and abuse are portrayed and explored without any real world abuse (in most cases, I'm aware some do feature real world abuse of actors and I refuse to watch those films).

People are allowed to enjoy fictional acts of violence and badness without their moral code being questioned. Not everyone enjoys it, and that's why we made a community that those people can block out using tags. My content isn't for everyone, but that doesn't mean I must cater to everyone either.

Thank you for the polite questions and I must again say- no one send this person hate or bother them.

Also sorry if anything seems weird or is misspelled, my brains been weird lately and I keep zoning out

[sir-phineas-lost]

TDP Book 5: Water

So this apparently dropped almost a week earlier than what was announced and I binged all of it at once as usual. Since I only just finished it I can’t quite tell if I like it better or worse than previous seasons (for summary: I loved the first 2 because it looked like they were heading somewhere really interesting, I hated season 3 because it completely dropped the ball and season 4 was starting to head back in the right direction). I feel like I should write a few things down to sort them out. Lots of spoilers below.

I think it was the right decision to split the party up more than they were last season because it no longer feels like Ezran is just hanging around for the sake of it and gives Rayla and Callum more time to interact and rebuild their relationship. I still don’t care one iota about said relationship because they are boring MC-shipping, but at least it doesn’t feel like it is actively eating up others’ screen-time.

The detour to Lux Aurea feel superfluous. It is very disconnected from the other subplot involving Karim and Kim’dael and the one lasting consequence (Zubeia’s wound) is apparently healed by the end of the season with absolutely no input from the main cast. Obviously this is setup for next season and this mysterious mushroom-mage but I can’t help but feel that there had to be a more convenient way to get there.

As usual, Claudia remains the very best part of the show and I will not hear a bad word about her. Her worry for Viren is so absolutely palpable it hurts and for once I think they dodged all the pitfalls of framing it as a sin. Having Terry around proves to be the best change to the show as a whole since the timeskip and he keeps being a positive influence on Claudia without being judgemental about it.

This also makes it pretty jarring when we get to Claudia’s final confrontation with the gang and after a full season of humanizing her and proving that she will listen to reason instead of going for the kill, she goes into full villain-mode from the start with crazy ranting and “I will destroy you all” speeches. All so that the gang can feel uncomplicated in dealing out the most graphic violence in the show so far. I used to joke that I would be ok with Claudia reducing elven cities to ash, I now think I would be fine with her ripping out Ezran’s spine while making Callum watch. As a treat.

Side-note: I am very ok with the trend of Claudia transforming into monster-ladies for big fights.

Please keep that up.

Viren also continues his positive development from last season, but unfortunately it is the exact kind of “redemption” I didn’t want for him and Claudia. The kind where it is all about him agreeing with everyone else that everything he ever does sucks and that dark magic is unambiguously evil. Sorry to people who like this development but I don’t see a lot of moral complexity in doing a 180.

Callum actually has a pretty interesting arc this season. After being convinced last season that it was his curiosity that would make him susceptible to Aaravos’ influence it instead draws direct parallells between him and Claudia by having love for his friends and especially Rayla be the reason he breaks his own moral code. It still relies heavily on the show’s nonsensical policy on dark magic for his guilt to make sense but it is something.

Unfortunately the show seems committed to its policy of character-centric morality. Ezran can make a speech to Callum about how they should focus on containing Aaravos instead of killing him because violence should be a last resort, and yet make no attempt at anything but violence when stopping Claudia.

Overall I just find it ironic how a book called “Ocean” manages to drive home how shallow this whole show is. It paints its main thesis on its forehead but has absolutely nothing of interest to say about it. “It is bad to do bad things for good reasons”. No shit Sherlock. Come back when you actually have something to say about what makes something bad in the first place or how to deal with the things that made someone think the bad thing was necessary.

[chopzoe]

a new old backstory piece of Tit for Tat from Levi's perspective; where Levi escapes a prison cell and tries to heal someone from Farlan's gang

“I said to boil the water before we drink it!” she grumbled, watching Jonah sigh and roll his eyes. 

“This one time isn’t going to make a difference,” he retorted, merely wiping his mouth with his arm.

Angrily, Levi tightened her lips and decided to not say anything further, turning just to catch Farlan staring at her, tilting his head in understanding appeasement. “I gotcha.”

-an unknown amount of time later-

Fucking rat.

It was the first thought Levi had when she opened her eyes and recognised the dark ceiling above herself as belonging to one of a prison cell, hopefully still underground as the last thing she could need now on top of all was having to escape from surface prison, in broad daylight in the absolute worst case. It was meant to be a simple robbery. They had it all planned - Farlan, that is - and it was going well, just a quick raid through an armoury until someone from the gang, Jonah that filthy motherfucker, decided not to give a rat’s ass and play a hasty lone hand instead. Running straight into the arms of a MP. And guess who got the shit end of the stick? Not Jonah.

Levi just moved, craning her head to orient herself further and wanting to rise from the hard sleeping bench, when an unforeseeable blow struck her back down again, leaving her mouth fill up instantly with the taste of blood. 

“This one’s for Oliver, scum!”

Oh. She almost forgot. So the pig she had beaten the crap out of was named Oliver. What a stupid name.

Her jaw protested when she twisted her mouth to spit out the warm metallic fluid, making her hope it wasn’t broken. “That pussy punch is all you got?” she murmured, the sarcasm passing her lips that suffered a bit as well, stinging in harsh protest from being moved.

“I won’t risk my job for doing worse to a lowlife like you,” the guy snapped, fidgeting with his hand - he wasn’t used to punching people, something Levi took in with a scoff, and to be honest, the look she managed to get of that uniformed beanpole now only further confirmed the assessment, he probably has just been doing paperwork all his life. “The punishment you will get for what you and your accomplices did is more than fitting.”

“Mhh,” she sighed, “Right.”

At that moment, the cell door began to open, revealing another MP who started to enter. Apparently, fate or whatever else that was in charge for all of that was happening decided to be a little more gentle with her today. The second one was not that different from his colleague - he waddled a few short steps inside the cell, breathless from the way, even though he wasn’t fat in the slightest, which had her come to the conclusion that he was simply just unathletic. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the very welcoming task of coiling herself out of the shackles, hiding them behind her back, cautious not to attract attention from the two sweethearts that were supposed to guard her cell and began discussing the further procedure of when and how they would be bringing her before the judge. 

She had luck, the metal allowed her slim wrists to slide through; the usual guests in this establishment were twice as tall as her and weighed considerably more - the latter had only intensified, as they had trouble getting their hands on proper food lately, which prompted this raid to begin with. To be fair, they wanted to get their hands on gas and weapons as well, but food was priority. This better be worth it.

“Hey,” the other now snapped at her, beginning to step closer, “Don’t sleep, the judge is awaiting you.”

It was the last sound the guy made; just when he bowed down to get her, Levi yanked the loose shackles upwards, coiling them around the neck of the MP and having him very unkindly meet her knee, the force of which it collided with his nose had him knocked out, slumping onto the edge of the bench on which she squatted to get the higher ground. The attack caused the first MP to scramble for his rifle, but she already heaved the unconscious colleague - who by the way reeked of cigarettes and old sweat - and threw him at the other, buying her enough time to dash off the bench and towards him, landing a blow with her clenched fist and beating him unconscious after a short scuffle. 

Standing in the cell, Levi tried to flatten her breath, having to admit the fight did take its toll on her. She spent a split of a second eying her sore knuckles, furrowing her brows and sighing, though not regretting it as much as the red splotches on her white shirt. There weren’t any noises coming from outside, luckily enough, but there was no guarantee no one would come check the cell, as two MPs who were supposed to escort her to the courtroom disappeared. Examining the beanpole, she quickly decided it would be best to put on his uniform, even though it definitely won’t fit. The other option was even worse, however. The imagination of having old sweat and stale cigarette smoke on her skin was enough to fill her with the urge to gag. 

Swiftly, her fingers went on to pull the clothes off the guy, feeling her skin prickle with the sight of that fucking green horse on the back of the jacket, but donning the pieces on anyway, as it was the best strategy to have more time to sneak out of the building and disappear back into the tunnels as a whole.

Tightening the belt as far as it allowed to prevent the pants from slipping, she finished her disguise with the rifle, swinging it over her shoulder and beginning to make a move out of the complex, clenching her jaw at the feeling of sweat making the fabric cling to her all too hot skin. The boots were way too fucking big, having her feet appear like those of a child in comparison, but fortunately, her own boots were similar enough not to strike attention, not on the first look at least, if anyone even were to inspect her boots to begin with. She wore the pieces of her own clothes underneath as well, buttoning up the shirt higher than she would normally prefer in order to hide the blood stains on the collar of her own shirt, and even though it wasn’t summer, it started to become damned uncomfortable.

Nevertheless, the way out was stupidly easy, no one even questioned her, despite the ill-fitting uniform. Levi tried to look as unimpressed as always, forcing herself to ease her features enough to look calm and composed and not like someone who beat three MPs in the last twenty-four hours. The taste of blood and stinging of her knuckles reminded herself enough already.

The streets were familiar, and the further she got, the more nonchalant she felt, letting down her guard a bit. No one of the residents in this area of Stohess would be able to recognise her anyway or even question anything. And it’s been a while since she last saw any green horse bastards. 

She just passed a group of people, meandering through the spaces between them, when a tall man met her tracks as unfazed as her, causing her to come to a stand suddenly as he did the same. For a millisecond, her breath stopped as well, but not without smelling the aftershave first, leaving her irritatingly dizzy.

“Pardon,” she only uttered, not wanting to attract any more attention and stepping aside to continue going down the street immediately. Yet, something made her turn and look at who she almost bumped into. Not having anticipated the stranger staring back. Weirdly enough, the keen blue eyes were most noticeable besides his imposingly tall stature and well-groomed blonde hair. Perhaps it was because of the mix of this knowing look and odd and misplaced curious smile that had her heart halt in alarmed shock for a moment.

Quickly, she turned on her heels, accelerating her steps but not so fast so she appeared as if she was fleeing. He didn’t come after her, in the end, and even though it lifted the dread off her shoulders, when she made her descent to the Underground City, the remaining feeling of alertness remained. He was wearing a uniform, but he wasn’t a MP or one of the Garrison. 

Those freaks usually don’t wear the Wings of Freedom on their backs.

When everything had settled, her suspicion would turn out to be justified. 

As he returned, Farlan looked at Levi, the grim expression was enough to let her know. “It’s happening again.”

She stood from her chair, starting to walk to the room Jonah lay in. It had started with stomach cramps and vomiting, but in a matter of only a few hours, his condition rapidly got worse, leaving the man only a husk of his former self. Hearing the retching noises made her halter, tensing her jaw. Mechanically, Levi pulled the kerchief hanging around her neck up to cover her mouth and nose, pulling on a decent pair of gloves before turning the knob and opening the door to the separate room. 

As low as her sympathy was towards the man, the condition he was in managed to stir a very uncomfortable memory. Her eyes trailed the sunken eyes and pale skin before they set on the bucket standing next to the bed, regarding its content with a slight alarmed pinch of her eyebrows. Her skin crawled at the ghastly sight - a white mess, weirdly odourless, looking almost like thin soup.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped, “Should have listened to you after all.”

Jonah muttered even more diffuse words, hard for her to make out, which didn’t make any sense in the end anyway. She had made a decision, whose success was highly hypothetical. 

“I’ll go find a doctor."

“Levi-”

“Listen to me,” she said, muffled by the cloth she still wore across her face, “I’m not letting you croak here. I’ll get my hands on some meds.”

“No one… is going to help,” he rasped, sneering. "Especially not you.”

Her eyes stared at him, unimpressed by the surrender in his words, though she had to admit there was some amount of truth in his last words. The amount of people around here who were able to recognise her by appearance was not as small anymore as everyone from the nameless orphan to the merchant selling his goods at absurd prices kept talking about the small woman, knowing whenever she was around there were most likely some faces needing to be rearranged. 

The hood of her cloak was drawn down to veil her from the stares of the cripples waiting inside the waiting room of the small surgery. With a bit of luck, no one would even question it, as she could just be someone hiding a festering rash. It smelled horrible, of piss and disease, and she felt her breath halt not only from the smells but also from the protesting burst knuckles she had almost forgotten, forcing her hands to ease. 

For a while, she tried to suppress her compulsion, keeping herself from pacing about; the longer the wait the higher the probability Jonah wouldn’t be even alive anymore upon her return. If she even managed to get her hands on the right meds. 

When the next patient was called and a humpback started to rise and walk to the front, that’s when she walked as well, stretching out her hand and getting a hold of the guy’s hood, rudely stopping him in his tracks, only hearing a startled choke and using the surprise to move on in his stead.

As she was making her way through the surgery, a pair of clean bandages and a small flask of alcohol disappeared inside of her deep pockets. When she got to the doctor, she straightforwardly got to the matter.

“I need medicine.”

“Would you please take off your hood?” the man kindly asked, unfazed by her blunt appearance.

Her hands rose to her face and lifted the hood away, prompting the doctor to speak the words she definitely expected.

“You are free to exit the surgery immediately.”

“I’m not here to do anyone harm,” she stated, even though it was a lie, as she was still feeling the need to grip the handle of the knife that was resting inside her pocket with its foreboding weight. “I just want to help a guy I know.”

“I have to see the patient to give a diagnosis,” the doctor insisted, “And without a diagnosis, there is no proper cure.”

“He’s vomiting and shitting,” she went on, “Three days ago, he drank water from a ditch, and it’s been like that since then. He isn’t eating or moving for that matter, I think he’s gonna kick the bucket.”

“Give him water and mix it with some salt. Give him any kind of juice. He desperately needs water, and nutrients,” the doctor explained, crossing his arms dryly. “The rest is up to him.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. There has to be some kind of medicine.”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

Her patience ran out; in the blink of an eye, her hand grabbed the knife from her pocket, holding it up and she could see how every colour drained from the man’s face, and with that, his stance grew defensive and frightened. “Get your notebook and write a prescription.”

Fortunately, and yet with very trembling hands, he did do what she told him, ripping the note out of the book and holding it out.

“Thank you,” she uttered, out of place with the knife pointed towards the man who treated the sick and hurt, making her feel like crap for doing this but quickly pushing the thought aside and snatching the prescription away, smacking a handful of money on the desk. 

It was so much worse. He didn’t even react when she stepped to the bed this time, his eyes mere slits, directed to the dark ceiling in a vacant stare. 

Without wasting any more time, Levi turned on her heel, beginning to storm back out of the surgery. The humpback from before began to puff himself threateningly, but seeing her unconcealed face, he hastily shuffled back, the quiet grunt of fear being the only sound coming out of him. She relied on her agitation to guide her back, hoping it would not be too late by the time she arrived.

“You need to drink this,” she muttered, lifting the cup to the man’s lips, trying to encourage him to take a sip, but he wouldn’t, doing what she wouldn’t have anticipated instead - in what seemed to be the last spark of strength he had left, Jonah pushed her, as he went limp, his eyes rolling back, the fluid spilling onto the linen instead.

She felt her hands shake, calling him a final time.

“Levi,” she heard Farlan, feeling his hands tug at her, starting to guide her away from the unresponding man, humming what she knew herself, “He’s dead.”

Levi breathed, staring at the haggard figure in front of her. 

[mekanikaltrifle]

hi! for that ask game- i'd love to know 13. 17. + 29. for either Andrea or Dani! im always very curious about those two :)

!!! very good picks and thank you for waiting while I got my shit sorted out :3c I'm gonna try answer both characters as best I can, so watch out for a longpost about two very different women...

13. When do they fake a smile? How often?

From the first moment anyone in-game met her, Dani was faking a smile. She's had to do it in self-defence ever since becoming a ghoul and later a vampire, and she was never anything but genuine in life. You and I know however, what the World of Darkness does with bright and genuine souls. Andrea meanwhile smiles more often than you think, and it is almost always fake-- but less placating and more a threat, like a wild animal letting you know exactly what weapons she has. She's smiling, sending you a very wrong signal. And you can't help but feel like that smile's the sort attached to someone who wants to see you burn...

17. What do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?

The first thing Dani thinks, and she's sure she's not just seeing shit-- is she sees where her sire bit her throat. The wound wasn't closed right away even though it's healed by now, because Atlas found theirself at the mercy of their newly-embraced childe in a deep, violent frenzy. They were lucky to survive it, because the mortal in there with them really didn't. The second is the sun damage on her cheeks and her hair. She misses being able to risk it and only worry about a little skin damage, and not burning up entirely in a plume of flame and ash. Though she barely looks in mirrors because she doesn't care about her appearance, Andrea tends to notice that she needs a haircut, but is not going to go get one. That she's sweaty and she knows she used to keep her hair and stuff nice (and practical). And she knows why she doesn't now. Most people likely notice that too, after they notice her detached expression, or the improivsed explosive she was attempting to attach to a vampire servant's car...

29. How do they respond when someone doesn’t believe them?

As an academic with a doctorate, Dani has defended a thesis. She's argued her case at archaeological conferences, she's argued with grant committees and with universities. You name an obstacle to academic and physical progress and she's argued with it. Didn't always win, but that's the nature of the beast, right? Nowadays as a Tremere, she's even more aware of how unlikely the shit she's doing is and more aware she's doing to have to get used to not saying a damn thing unless she's 100% sure. Weirdly, she can get used to it... maybe there's something in the Blood that likes secrecy. And our beloved Andrea... how does she handle being disbelieved? Strangely well. Someone so hair-trigger and violent and fucking insane should go off on one, right? But no, if she's trying to tell someone something important and they accuse her of lying or don't believe her she's more likely to press it again, and if they disagree again? She's gritting her teeth, squaring her shoulders and telling them it's their fucking funeral. She doesn't usually try to reach out to people, so if she does it's probably pretty threatening.

[crepuscularqueens]

writing pattern tag!

Rules: Share the opening of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

thank you so very much for tagging me @dr-lizortecho :) <3

would you come out and die for me

It wasn't that Sam didn’t understand what he was getting himself into. Okay? It wasn't that. He wasn’t naive or stupid. He’d read the files, he’d pieced so much of this shit together himself, spending long sleepless nights poring over accounts and linking events and blurry photos and making educated guesses that got proven right the more they dug up.

someday my pain will mark you

It starts with a fight. An argument, the pale, thin man’s incessant nagging wearing yet another hole in the thin skin Logan has over his temper. It never takes long for him to grow aggravated, to snap at the other man, but today proves different. Caliban usually needles at a point until he gets a reaction, then withdraws, but today he stands up to Logan’s temper and serves it right back.

when i walk into a room, i do not light it up

Quentin was trying to be mature. That’s what this was all about, he was an adult, as were all his friends and exes and half-way sort-of maybe-kinda-if-you-look-at-it-sideways exes, and they could manage being civil to each other. He was trying to show that he could move on from the absolute disaster he’d created, show up to a party with all of his friends and act just as he always had. In Q’s case that meant moping in the corner sulking and watching everyone else have a good time. Nothing out of the ordinary here.

i bit the fruit and all heaven broke loose

Silver did not expect Flint to come find him after what happened in the tavern in the sense that he was anticipating the captain’s arrival. Howell was tending to his leg, the barely healed wound irritated once more from the actions. But, Silver found, when he heard Flint’s steady footsteps approaching, he was completely unsurprised that the man would be at his side at a time like this.

perfect

“It really is the perfect paperweight.” Stede’s voice was pleased, a little hint of wonderment despite what could have been viewed as a complete disaster and waste of their time. Ed could see Stede balancing the petrified fruit on the tips of his fingers out of the corner of his eye before setting it on his desk. It had been fun for what it was, despite it all, and Ed could not help but be fond of the other man. Lucius’ words kept rattling around his head, that bizarre little man over there likes you very much, round and round they went, finding all different angles to come at him from.

held by you (felled by you)

Once the tears start coming, Edward’s knees pulled up in the bathtub, a blanket protectively over him like a shield from the reality he has to face coupled with the dark memories of his past, they don’t stop. Not when he’s taken from the grip of his painful memories, and not when Stede offers his immediate, unthinking forgiveness, that’s for certain.

take your sword, run me through

It’s not the initial wound that really hurts, you know? The blade punching through, slicing clean, you hardly feel it for what it is. Coming back out, now that’s never going to be quite as effortless and neat. Hurts like a bitch. But the care afterwards? Fuck, now that’s the excruciating part. Ed took a greedy swig of some of the expensive stuff Stede had in his quarters as the man tended to the wound with slightly shaking hands.

he kisses me softly to wake me up

The night was not quiet or still, because there was never a night that could be quiet and still on the sea. Strangely, that was something Stede adjusted to quite fast, the constant movement in and around his ship, whether it be tame and gentle as a mother nursing a child or wild and vengeful, he never found he had much trouble falling asleep on the water. So, it wasn’t the movement of the ship on the water that woke him on this particular night. But something had.

we bleed holy water

The evening had a cold crisp bit to it, a breeze rustling the scatter of fallen leaves on the pavement, sliver of moon hiding behind a thin veil of cloud, and Natalia was on the hunt. Through the scattered trees that meandered down the hill they were waiting on, a small group of grad school students were walking together, laughing with good spirits at a joke one of them told. Bucky could tell when Natalia had her sights set on someone she liked, a worthy prey, a trophy. It’s not that he’d ever been disappointed in her choices, it's just…

Shores Begging For Big Moons

It was hot and dry on this goddamn planet. It was always hot and dry on these planets, too close to their suns, relying on imported water and food, settled impractically on a rock that wasn't suited to support life on its own. Sam had grown up on a planet that was humid and teaming with greenery and life, when it wasn't entirely waterlogged. He hated being stationed on these outlying planets, far from SHIELD command and full of less than savory characters. Part of the deal of being on interplanetary rotation, which Sam had asked for a couple years ago, knowing full well what he was signing up for. But all the same he couldn’t wait to get back to base, spend a little time on a planet whose atmosphere wasn't thirty percent dust. Steve never seemed to mind being stationed out in these places, Sam couldn’t understand it.

no pressure tagging @sambambucky and um. anyone else that wants to for real you are tagged now if you want to do this <3