#it's an imposter and it's your duty to track it down and kill it

[greenfrogartist]

Batman looking a little red there, isn't he @the-stove-is-divorced ? Must be a trick of the light

[yeonzzzn]

numbers up: sim jaeyun

part three of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 15.3k

synopsis: with the imposter ghost face on the loose and your life being threatened, jake makes preparations to keep you safe and track down the copycat. you also make preparations with the heads of the film and investigation departments to bring down the imposter. trust no one and remember…everyone is a suspect.

genre: established relationship, ghostface!jake, journalist!reader, smut.

warnings: swearing, jake is fucking insane (as always), blood & m*rder, dry humping, reader gets stabbed, multiple unprotected sex scenes, shower sex, hair pulling, if I missed everything please let me know!

You’ve never seen Jake this paranoid before, or well, paranoid ever. Paranoia wasn’t an emotion Jake had ever had to feel and deal with, that was until you. Until this copycat ghost face made threats to your life and drove Jake to hold you close and always double-check over his shoulder. 

That phone call made Jake scared—truly, genuinely, scared. Which was another emotion he’d never felt. Jake usually lived on the thrill of it all. The thrill of someday being caught by law enforcement. The thrill of someone finding out his identity and challenging him. But he has you now. You changed everything. 

Which drove him to make this decision. To move himself and you across town into another apartment, leaving everything behind. 

You sat on the brand new couch you and Jake just finished moving up the stairs and into your new apartment, looking up at him on the ladder he stood on, drilling the new security system and camera into the corner of the living room. 

Your eyes wandered around your new home, to all the boxes and new furniture and new bags of clothing. You thought Jake was joking when he mentioned moving out and leaving every single thing in your old apartment behind. He clearly wasn’t. 

Jake paid for everything, the new lease for this apartment. Bought you and him new phones that had new numbers on a completely different phone plan than your previous ones. New bank accounts. New laptops, new emails, and new tablets. Books, journals, clothes, cameras, watches, literally everything. Jake even ditched his previous car and got a new one. Jake’s paranoia wasn’t a joke, and he fully went through with everything. 

He even tried to convince you to move into another town, hell a new country even, but you refused. The two of you were way too close to finishing your majors to just up and leave. You had duties here, the major one being to catch the imposter ghost face. It surprised you at the desperation Jake had to up and leave this life behind, all in the name of keeping you safe. 

Jake glanced down at you for a split second, seeing how you took in the new apartment. The blank stare on your face as you looked over every inch of this place. It hurt Jake, honestly. Up and dropping his old life wasn’t easy on him either. But it was all for you. For you, he’d do anything. That’s why he buckled and agreed to stay at the same college and town. He truly wanted to catch the imposter as much as you, but nothing was more important than keeping you alive. Keeping that pretty blood of yours flowing through your veins and keeping that heart beating. Jake wouldn’t know what he would do if something happened to you, and he honestly didn’t want to find out. 

He finished screwing in the last screw of the new security system and let out a sigh. He glanced back down at you to already see you staring back up at him, “What’s up, honey?” 

You softly pouted, debating if you wanted to ask the question that’s been making circles in your brain, “Where did you get all this money from? To do all this?” guess you decided to ask it anyway. 

Jake leaned on the ladder, smirking down at you, “I’m a serial killer, baby, you think I didn’t save money up in case something like this happened?” 

You figured that was what his answer would be and you didn’t want to admit you were terrified that he went and robbed a bank or random people. Or stolen from his victims. Jake did have a job, way before you even met him. He saved up every penny from each paycheck into a savings account that wasn’t connected to his main account and was under a different name. Jake wasn’t stupid to keep all his money in his main account. It would raise way too many red flags. That account wasn’t just his money from his job, but from earnings he got growing up. Money from birthdays or when his parents felt like handing him money. He would use some of that money to donate to charity, to make that bank account look less suspicious. 

You shrugged up at him, and made yourself comfy on the couch, laying down and stretching out. Jake climbed down from the ladder and walked to your side, “What are you thinking about, my love?” 

You sighed, staring into those beautiful brown killer eyes, “That I want to catch whoever is making our lives difficult.” 

Jake smiled, climbing onto the couch and laying on top of you, nuzzling his face in your neck, “We’ll catch them, don’t worry baby,” he placed a few kisses to your neck, his hand slowly sliding up your shirt, fingers brushing against your skin, “And once we do, we’ll have a guaranteed spot in our respective fields after graduation.” 

You knew he was right. If the two of you managed to catch the imposter you would no doubt have no problems getting your detective jobs. It would be so easy and the town would be stupid to not give you and Jake those positions. You sigh then, realizing that once the imposter is caught, they would be trialed for every crime they have committed—including Jake’s. 

Jake and you never discussed it, about what would happen to whoever it was behind the ghost face mask and what crimes they would go to trial for. But deep down, you knew they would take the hit for both theirs and Jake’s. It only made sense. You refused to let Jake go down. You needed him. You’d…kill for him. 

His kisses on your neck deepened, his teeth nibbling at the skin and tongue licking up your neck. His hand now made its way up to your breast, squeezing the plush between his fingers. 

You softly moaned, tilting your head to give him more access to you. Your eyes fluttered closed and back open, spotting Jake’s duffle bag in the corner of the kitchen. 

“Thought you were going to get rid of that?” you asked with a shaky breath, too deep in the pleasure of his touch to sound serious. 

Jake chucked against your skin, his breath sending goosebumps and chills down your body, “I will tonight baby,” he pressed his hips to yours, his clothed hard cock rubbing against your heat. He removed his face from your neck and brushed his lips against yours,  “How about we stop talking and break into the new couch, shall we?” His hand slid from your breast to the band of your shorts, slipping his hand inside, “Have to make sure the couch won’t break from how hard I am about to pound into you.” 

You pushed his duffle bag off to the back of your mind and embraced his lips to yours. 

Needless to say, the couch indeed held up from the rough sex Jake gave you. 

—

Jake dropped the duffle bag to the ground with a sigh leaving his mouth. He pulled the matches from his back pocket, debating if this was something he even wanted to do. But it wasn’t up for debate, he knew it. This was for you. All for you and the future he wants and will have with you. 

Plus he didn’t travel out to this small shitty countryside town for nothing. 

Jake has traveled here before to take care of some…things. He knew the town and knew how easily he could slip in and out without a trace. 

The town had a small farmer's market and an alleyway where they kept barrels of hay to sell to customers for their farm animals. Jake was in luck to see one was still here and had enough hay in it to catch fire. 

He pulled a match from the box, striking the red tip to the side, watching how the flames rose and lit up the alleyway then tossed it into the barrel. It didn’t take long for the fire to spread. 

Jake looked back down at the duffle, kneeling down and opening the bag, his ghost face mask staring right back at him. He smirked, rubbing his fingers over the curves of the mask, “It’s been a hell of a ride.” 

Without another thought, Jake tossed the black cloak, gloves, and then the duffle bag into the barrel. He took one final look at the mask before tossing it in. 

Jake didn’t know how long he stood there staring at the barrel, watching the flames tear a part of him into pieces. He wasn’t sad, no no, he stood there with a smirk on his wash, watching how the white of the mask burnt and crumbled away. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his crazy smile only growing wider. 

He finally walked away, feeling the heat of the fire against his back, “I’ve always loved playing with fire.” 

—

“Absolutely not!” Jake said with a stern voice, his eyes glaring at you over the top of his laptop. 

You shift your weight to one side, crossing your arms, “You know I am the head of the journalism department, right?” 

Jake raises a brow at you, “Okay, and?” 

You thin your lips in a line, narrowing your eyes, “Excuse you?” 

Danielle sat diagonally from Jake to his left, her eyes wide as she looked back and forth between the two of you, “I hate seeing mom and dad fight…” she whispered before standing up quickly, “I’m going to head to my next class…” without another word, Danielle slowly walked out of the office. 

Jake waited until the door fully closed before darting his eyes back to his laptop screen, “I said no, end of discussion.” 

You understood Jake’s worry, you really did. But without the other department's help, you wouldn’t catch the imposter. Earlier this morning, the dean of your college sent you an offer to pair up with the film and investigation departments to cover more ground for the ghost face cases. It would benefit you to have that help so it’s not just on your and Jake’s shoulders. Mostly with the recent cases. 

The imposter went on a killing spree over the course of a week, killing six students on campus, and two random strangers on the street on the edge of town. That’s EIGHT victims within a WEEK. What made these cases so major was the imposter started leaving specific items at each crime scene, clearly in a way to taunt Jake. Another ghost face mask was found at one scene, then a glove at another. The cloak was found at the next crime. A pair of bloody shoes at the next, the exact same knife type Jake has used was found at another. Then another ghost face mask. The other crimes were repeats of gloves and other items. The case was growing bigger and becoming too much for just you and Jake to handle, so when the dean gave you that offer…

“Well, I already said yes, so…” you hummed, not taking your eyes off your boyfriend. 

Jake chuckled, “Well, again, I said no. Cancel it, tell them you changed your mind,” He didn’t look up from the screen, typing something. You roll your eyes, slamming the laptop closed. Jake glared at you, “You’re on thin ice, honey.” 

You placed your hands flat on the table, leaning towards him but still being far enough away, “I run this department and you’ll deal with this choice whether you like it or not, understand?” he narrowed his eyes at you, “And you can look at me like that all you want, I’m not scared of you Jake.” 

You lifted yourself off from the table, barely turning to face away from him before he was on his feet and in front of you, hands on your waist and lifting you onto the table. He pushed between your legs and brushed his lips against your ear, his hands now flat on the table on either side of you, “It turns me on when you talk like that to me, baby,” he rubbed his nose against the shell of your ear, “It’s so fucking hot when you put me in my place.” 

He kisses your neck, one hand lifting to the other side to tilt your head, giving him more access, “It’s all true though,” you mumble, barely being able to get the words out. 

Jake chuckles against your skin, pressing his growing hard length to your cunt, “I could kill you at any moment, honey, don’t forget who I am.” 

You place your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back so he can look at you, “You wouldn’t,” you smirked, moving your face inches away from his, noses touching, “I don’t care who you are, Jake Sim, you can’t live without me.” 

Jake smirks, pushing his tongue past his lips and licking a stripe against yours then taking your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a soft pull before releasing it. It was true, he couldn’t live without you. “Keep running your pretty mouth and I’ll take you right here on this table.” He bucked his hips against yours, brushing his lips over yours, “I’d fuck you so nice and slow and hard,” he whispered then connected his lips to yours. 

You don’t know how much time has passed, but Jake had pulled you to the edge of the table, rocking his clothed hard cock against your heat in a slow but hard motion, his hands running up and down your back as his tongue pressed in and out of your mouth. Jake was so ready to unbuckle his belt and tear your jeans apart to feel that sweet pussy of yours wrapped around him, that was until a knock on the door sounded, and the door was opening. 

Jake dropped his face into your neck, backing his lower half away from you and releasing a groan, “Did I interrupt something?” 

You quickly push Jake away and drop to the floor, “No, Jay. Everything is fine.” 

Jay stood in the crack of the door, his laptop in hand, eyes darting over to Jake, “Nice seeing you again, Sim.” 

“Woof.” 

Jay rolled his eyes, looking away from him and back at you, “Put your dog on a leash, ya?” 

Jake took a few steps forward but you stepped in front of you, “Jake, we aren’t doing this,” you snapped, “Sit down, please.” Jake didn’t take his eyes off Jay as he pulled the chair out and sat down. 

Jay smirked, letting a whistle escape his lips in a way of saying “Good dog.” Jake wanted to growl and bare his teeth and bark, showing him what kind of dog Jake could really be. 

“Please, come in,” you said, waving your hand to the free seats, “Is Jungwon coming too?” 

Jay was the head of the film department. His team mostly covered sports and weather, but occasionally would show up and film crimes, sending your department the footage later to write the articles and publish both to the campus’s website. Jungwon, Jay’s second, as if on command, popped out from behind him, carrying their camera, “I’m here, just fell behind.” You could tell the younger was nervous, giving him a small smile as he walked in and set the camera on the table. 

Jake kept his eyes on Jay, studying his every movement. Not liking the way the blonde-haired male would look and smile at you. Jake was against teaming up with the other departments for more than just not wanting Jay around you. He didn’t trust him. Or anyone, for that matter. Jake didn’t care if having extra people around made finding the imposter easier, having these people around put you in danger. 

You pinched Jake’s bicep, giving him a look to behave and relax. Jake just shrugs, leaning back in the chair and wrapping his arm around your waist, and pulling you close to him, resting his head on your hip. You ruffled his hair, loving how cute he looked as he scrunched his nose and batted your head out of his hair, fixing what you messed up. It still amazed you how this man was a serial killer. This soft puppy sitting in front of you was secretly insane and committed so many murders but was so soft when it came to you. It was cute, truly. 

Another knock and the door slowly slid open, “Am I late to the party?” 

You smiled, “Nope! Just in time.” 

Heeseung slowly walked into the room, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Good, was worried I might be.” 

Lee Heeseung, the head of the investigation department. The poor guy was appointed the department head because the previous one was murdered last week…a victim of the imposter. You’ve met Heeseung a couple of times before, or well, have seen him a couple of times before. Anytime you went to the investigation office for results or photos of the crimes he always sat in the back with his lab coat and goggles over his glasses, as he worked on pieces of evidence the police department let the school borrow. 

You could tell he was also nervous, but he had plenty of reasons to be. One was the daggers Jake was sending at him, second, the man was just appointed the department head after his was murdered, and lastly, this was his first major job as the head, having to completely take over the ghost face case and deal with you and Jay on top of it. 

Heeseung sat down across from you and beside Jay, running a hand through his hair, “Sunoo should be here soon, he was printing off some extra photos from the murders a few days ago.” 

You nodded, finally sitting down beside Jake, “It’s nice to finally talk to you,” you said, leaning your elbows onto the table, “You were always so busy in your little corner anytime I was on that side of the campus.”

Heeseung smiled, “Yeah, I’m in my own little world sometimes. You could probably have imagined my surprise when I was picked to fill in the shoes. I basically had to beg Sunoo to be my second for these cases.” 

Sunoo you’ve worked with a few times before, he was shy but such a beautiful ray of sunshine. Had a sparkling personality and always brightened the room with his smile. He was super smart and would make a killer investigator one day. 

Jake listened as you, Jay, Jungwon, and Heeseung spoke back and forth. Eyeing their movements and facial expressions, noticing how Jay and Heeseung kept their eyes on you a little too long. Jake knew you were the department head and they were more than likely just being respectful, but Jake couldn’t forget the crush Jay has on you, or clock out Heeseung was basically undressing you with his eyes. 

Or maybe Jake was just getting jealous he had to share you with other people. That was probably it. 

Sunoo finally showed up, handing everyone their own folders of the photos. Jay opened his laptop up, connected the camera then blue toothing the laptop to the projector in the office to show footage they’ve taken along with footage from the security cameras around campus. You passed along articles and pulled the corkboard out. 

Hours passed as the six of you discussed the cases and exchanged information each department had. It surprised you how calm Jake was for the most part. Only getting sassy during specific topics. Jake was all-knowing of ghost face for his specific cases, knowing next to nothing about the imposter. 

The meeting finally came to an end and you were very much ready to go home and take a warm shower. 

Jake and Jay sat at the table still discussing one of the murders, meanwhile, Jungwon, Sunoo, and Heeseung prepared to leave. 

You held the door open for them, thanking Jungwon and Sunoo for attending, ready to do the same for Heeseung but he stopped in front of you. Jake clocked it immediately. 

“Thank you for welcoming us into your space,” Heeseung said with a tilt of his head, “It was finally nice getting to work with you.” Heeseung was trying to keep himself calm, shoving his hands into his pockets so you wouldn’t see how badly he was shaking. He found you extremely cute and incredibly smart. He was blown away at today's meeting because of you. 

“Likewise,” you smiled at him, “Hopefully this partnership does all of us some good and we catch this ghost face.” 

Heeseung pushed his glasses back up, “We are the department heads for a reason, we’ll catch them.” 

Jay noticed how clocked out Jake was, pulling his eyes over to you and Heeseung, “You going to bark at him like you did to me?” Jay teased. 

“Just might fuck her in front of both of you so you’ll be reminded who she belongs to.” 

Jay rolled his eyes, “She’s allowed to have friends, you know.” 

Yeah, she is, just not friends with males who want to fuck her and look at her like I do. Only I can look at her like that. Only I can fuck her. Point blank. 

Jay signed, crossing his arms, “Listen, Heeseung is a good guy, a little shy, but he’s new to this, don’t bark at him.” 

Jake patted Jay’s shoulder, “Okay, buddy,” and with that, Jake was walking towards you. 

Heeseung pulled his phone from his back pocket, “I was thinking since we are all working together, we can exchange phone numbers,” he smiled awkwardly, his glasses falling down his nose and him quickly pushing them up, “We can have a group chat as well.” 

Before you could answer, Jake wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to him, “We don’t exchange numbers.” 

Right…because you both had to get new phone numbers. No one had your new numbers, not even Sunghoon. “Everyone is a suspect,” Jake said once you got your new phones, “trust no one.” 

Heeseung glanced over at Jake, “I’m n-not trying to steal her or anything,” he stuttered, “I just figured it would be easier for us to contact each other so we aren’t running across campus.” 

Jake smiled, “We can exchange school emails and our school chat IDs, that should be good enough, ya?” 

Heeseung looked at you and all you could do was shrug, apologizing with your eyes. 

“Jay,” Jake called, “Come over here, the four of us are going to exchange chat IDs.” 

You knew Jake was doing this to protect you and him. He wasn’t going to just hand over your phone numbers that easily. He was playing smart, having to be one step ahead in this game he’s playing with the imposter. The chat IDs were Jake’s only plan to not make it seem suspicious completely, mostly since the IDs were from the college and connected to the college emails. Your numbers were safe.  

You all exchanged the IDs and made the group chat, Jay saying he’d add Jungwon later and Heeseung agreeing to the same for Sunoo. 

Once the boys left, Jake slid the door closed and locked it, staring at you with hooded eyes, “I’m fucking you on this table like I said earlier.” 

You giggled as Jake picked you up in his arms and laid you down on the table. Jealousy was cute on him. 

—

You tied red strings around the pushpins on the corkboard and then took a few steps back, resting your body against the kitchen counter. You crossed your arms and let your eyes wander the board. Stopping at each photo of the imposter's crime scenes, and at each item they have left. Looked at the school’s articles and the official news articles that were pinned by each photo. Your laptop sat on the kitchen table, replaying the videos Jay filmed and was kind enough to send to you. 

Trying to wrap your mind around these cases was making your brain hurt. Mostly since Jake was stuck at soccer practice for the next couple of hours, you’ve been taking this head on by yourself. 

You rubbed your fingers to your temples, needing a much-needed break. So you splash some water on your face from the kitchen sink and gently dab your face with a towel. You pulled a bottle of water and an apple from the fridge, sat on the couch, and propped your feet onto the coffee table. The apartment was quiet and you honestly hated it, wishing Jake’s laughter was echoing off these walls. Jake hasn’t left your side since all this bullshit started happening and the only time he wasn’t with you was his soccer practice. You always offered to go with him and sit in the bleachers, but he always refused. Mostly because he wouldn’t be able to completely focus. He barely was able to focus when you were at the apartment alone, but he knew you’d at least be safer there than at the campus. You’re just instructed to not leave the apartment at all if he wasn’t with you. Which was fair. Jake was able to hold his own because ya know, being a serial killer and all. But you? You were barely a challenge for Jake when he had you pinned to the floor and a knife to your throat after you figured out he was the ghost face. You could barely dominate Jake in the bedroom, he could hold his own. You?? Ehh.

You finished the apple and water, threw away the trash, and got back to work. You sat at the table, flipping through more photos Heeseung sent over and rereading some of the articles Danielle had written. The more you look over everything, the more your brain hurts and that small break did nothing. You sigh, reaching for your backpack in the chair beside you, digging for the documents and articles Jake has created and written, only to not find them there. 

“That’s fantastic,”  you mumbled, standing from the table and walking to the bedroom, finding Jake’s backpack on the floor by the closet. You bent down and opened it up, digging through his textbooks and folders but not finding the one you were looking for, “Fuck!” you sat on the floor, covering your face with your hands, “This is so fantastic.” 

You wanted to call your boyfriend, but you knew he was busy with practice and wouldn’t answer. But you doubt he would even have the articles to begin with. You shot back to his backpack, thinking hopefully his laptop would be in there and sure enough, it wasn’t. Meaning he left it in the office on campus, where the extra copies of the articles would more than likely be. You debate leaving the apartment, knowing you shouldn’t and Jake would be pissed off if he finds out…but he would be gone for hours and wouldn’t even know you left unless he checks the camera footage in the apartment. You tuck your lip between your teeth, ultimately deciding to leave. You’d be there and back before Jake even returned home. 

You slipped on your shoes and threw on a hoodie, pulling the hood tightly and comfortably over your head and double checking the door was locked before rushing down the stairs and making your way to campus. Thankfully it wasn’t a far walk. 

You quickly made it to the campus, unlocking the door to the office and closing it behind you. The campus was empty and quiet, being that it was the weekend. Made it perfectly for you to slip in and out quicker. Jake’s laptop sat on the table in his spot, just like you figured it would be along with the folder of the copies sitting on top of it. You grabbed both and hurried back out of the office, locking the doors. 

You made it to the first floor of the building when your phone started ringing. Your heart sank. He’s going to be so mad. You pulled your phone from your shorts pocket, expecting to see Jake’s name on the screen but instead seeing Unknown Caller. You tucked your lip between your teeth, locking the phone to ignore it. It’s probably just some spam call. You walked out of the building's doors, your phone ringing and the same caller ID popping up. 

You looked around the campus, not seeing anyone in sight. You dismiss the call, taking two steps down and your phone rings again with the same ID. You quickly dismiss it and with shaky hands, you dial Jake’s number. 

The caller you are trying to reach is unavaila—

“Shit!” you curse, redialing the number and getting the same message. 

Fear filled you, hands trembling as you stared at your boyfriend's number then the screen showing the ID calling again. 

You locked your phone and quickly went down the rest of the steps, making it halfway away from the building and parking lot when your phone once again rang. You stopped walking, looked around the campus, and finally answered the phone. 

“Hello, YN,”

You gripped your phone as it was pressed to your ear, “Hello, imposter.” 

“It’s been a while since I last spoke to Jake.” they chuckled, “I wonder why that is?”

“Yeah, crazy.” you whipped around behind you, looking back at the building you came from, then turned back towards the parking lot and looked at the buildings beyond it. 

“Isn’t it rude to change your numbers without telling anyone? Jake must have been desperate. Mostly after the very attractive photos I’ve taken of you at your…old apartment.” 

You swallowed. Whoever this was, they knew your numbers had changed and that you moved. You kept looking around, trying to find anyone near only to find no one. 

“What do you want?” you asked, starting to quickly walk again. 

“Like I told Jake, you’ll know soon enough.” 

You scoff, picking up your pace. 

“Where are you going in such a hurry, YN?” You stopped walking again, heart nearly stopping, “Don’t you know it’s rude…” 

You had a bad feeling, body shaking and trembling, “Rude that what?” you asked, but then the line hung up. 

You barely had time to realize what was about to happen. They had their arm wrapped around your neck and their knife piercing the skin at your waist just above your rib cage. 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to walk away when someone is speaking to you?” 

You tilted your head to the side and up, seeing the ghost face mask you were all too familiar with. 

You swallowed again, trying to form words but nothing came out but gasps. 

Jake slouched against the bleachers, taking his towel and wiping the sweat from his face and hair. Sunghoon sat down beside him, “Practice was hell today.” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” Jake sighs, “I’m ready to go home.” 

Sunghoon glanced over at his best friend, “You still not going to tell me where you both moved off to? Or your new number?”

Jake sat still, not looking at his friend, “I have my reasons.” 

Sunghoon moved closer, “Did something happen? Jake, this isn’t like you.” 

Jake wanted to snap at him that he didn’t know anything about him besides what Jake allowed him to see. He loved Sunghoon, truly did. But with the imposter…he couldn’t trust anyone. Not when his girlfriend's life was on the line. 

“Let’s just say it’s a long story, one you’ll know soon enough.” Jake hoped he would accept it and leave it alone. And thank god he did. 

Sunghoon sighed and just stood up, “Time to head home, see ya tomorrow?” 

Jake stands up too, reaching out for his friend's hand, “Yep, see ya at the skating rink at two pm.” 

Sunghoon took his hand, “Make sure YN joins too!” he said as he walked away. 

Jake nodded and picked up his bag, heading for the changing room. 

Once he was out of his sweaty soccer clothes and cleaned himself and in cleaner clothes, he left the locker room, finally pulling his phone from his duffle, seeing your few missed calls. Jake waited until he was in his car and heading back home before calling you back. The line didn’t even ring and went straight to voicemail. Jake raised a brow, “Okay, weird.” He redialled your number, and it once again went straight to voicemail. 

Jake at this point was parked at the apartment, calling you one more time, it rang twice and then ended. Jake quickly got out of the car and ran up the stairs, stumbling with his keys to unlock the door and stepping inside. 

“YN!” he yelled, seeing the apartment in one piece and no sign of forced entry. He rushed to the bedroom, still not seeing you. “YN!!” he shouted, still no answer. 

Jake was starting to panic. It wasn’t like you to ignore his calls. To leave without telling him or to even just leave. He paced around the living room, pulling up the camera footage on his phone, and seeing you leave the apartment. 

“Goddamn this woman!” he bite his tongue, redialing your number once again, “Fucking pick up…please god let her pick up…” 

Your phone rang again, and you didn’t have to look at it to know it was Jake. 

“Kind of rude to keep ignoring your boyfriend’s calls, isn’t it? Answer it.” 

You took a deep breath, feeling your knees going weak, continuing to ignore the imposter. 

“I said fucking answer it!” he yelled into your ear, pushing the knife in further. 

You grunted out in pain, praying someone was on campus to witness what was happening to you. It was broad daylight on a Saturday afternoon, where was everyone? 

You didn’t want to answer the call. Didn’t want Jake to hear what he was about to. Didn’t want the imposter to kill you and have Jake hear it. You knew what Jake would do… 

The imposter hisses and pulls your back to their chest, removing their arm from your neck and reaching for your phone, accepting the call and putting it on speaker. 

Jake nearly dropped to his knees at hearing the call answer, “YN!” he snapped, “Where the fuck are you?!” 

“Hello, Jake.” 

Jake’s heart stopped, almost stumbling to the floor before catching himself on the kitchen counter, jaw clenching at the sound of the voice changer, “Where is she?” 

The imposter chuckled, “Right here in front of me, say hi, honey,” 

Jake tensed at hearing the imposter use the pet name he’d given you, using it as a taunt. 

“It’s rude to not say hello to your boyfriend, don’t you think?” 

They pushed the knife in further, you gasped in pain. 

Jake was already out the door at the sound of your pained gasp, “I swear to god if you—“ 

“If I what, Jake Sim?” he taunted, “If I kill her? What will you do?” 

Jake ran a head through his hair, “I’ll fucking kill you myself.” 

They laughed, “Sounds about right coming from a serial killer.” 

Your moans filled Jake’s ears, the way you were gasping for air…he needed to get to you. Jake placed the call on speaker and with shaky hands opened the app he installed to find your location, “That makes two of us doesn’t it?” he said, stalling time to find your location, finally pinpointing you at the school. 

“I know you’re stalling, Jake,” they whispered, “To find our location.” 

Jake snarled, “What do you want?” 

Silence, and then, “To see you suffer.” 

They pulled the knife out of your side and shoved it back in, creating another wound. Your cries filled Jake’s ear and now he was sprinting to the school. 

Your body was shaking, feeling your blood pool out of your skin and down your body and to the sidewalk, “You look even prettier with your blood leaking out,” they laughed, “Jake might be too late.” 

Jake ran faster, “Leave her alone!” he screamed completely out of breath. 

“Goodbye, Jake Sim.” 

Then the call ended. 

The imposter tossed your phone off to the side, twisting the knife deeper, pulling it out and back in, making another wound. 

Your hands became weak, letting go of the laptop and folder in your hand, dropping to the ground beside you. Your head flung forward, too dizzy from your blood loss to stay upright anymore. You barely felt the knife being removed from your body and their hands letting you go. 

You fell, your temple hitting the edge of the sidewalk, blurring your vision even more. The imposter knelt beside you, lifting the knife and wiping your blood on their cloak, the black sleeve falling down, revealing a watch at their wrist. They chuckled, staring at the now clean knife, “It was fun, YN, this time we spent together today.” You stared at the mask through your blurred vision, watching as they stood and walked away. Leaving you to bleed out. 

You blinked a couple of times, too weak to try and move, eyes looking up at the blue sky. This was it. This was your end. You thought about Jake and how you wanted to feel his touch, hear his voice. Kiss his lips for the last time. You felt your heart slowing down. It would be any minute now. 

“YN!!” you heard from a distance but muffled. “YN!!” it was closer now, still muffled. You closed your eyes and then felt hands on you, “YN, baby, please open your eyes.” 

It was Jake. He was here. 

You forced your eyes open, barely being able to keep them open for long, but it was enough to see him leaning over you, tears filling his eyes. 

Jake pulled you off the sidewalk and into his arms, resting your head on his chest, panicking at the wound on your head, “Oh my god, baby, please speak to me, keep your eyes open.” His warm hand wiped the dripping blood from your face, starting to rock back and forth, “YN, I need you to open your eyes for me, okay baby? Say something to me. I am right here.” 

You fluttered your eyes open, but closed them again, opening your mouth to speak, but only gasps coming out. 

Jake saw your blood staining your hoodie, carefully lifting the fabric to see three stab wounds and the blood that continued to pool out. Jake pressed his hand to the wounds as hard as he could, feeling you jolt against him, “Shh, I know baby,” he cried, the tears finally falling, panic rising more and his rocks becoming faster, “I am so sorry my love, please stay with me. Hey, open your eyes please, YN. I can’t live without you, please.” You were fading, you knew it. Jake’s cries became more muffled and everything went black. 

— 

Your eyes fluttered open, the sounds of a heart monitor echoing in what you were assuming was a hospital room. The last thing you remembered was hearing Jake’s screams before passing out. You looked down at your body, seeing all the IVs connecting to the veins in your arms and the hospital band around your wrist. You looked to your right, seeing the hospital door boarded up with chairs. You looked to your left, seeing Jake sleeping soundly against your bed in the chair he pulled up close. His hair had fallen over his eyes, lips parted slightly, hearing his breathing. One hand rested on your thigh, and the other was under his head. 

You swallowed, feeling how dry your throat was. You tried to sit up, but Jake felt you shift on the bed, waking him up. He slowly sat up and stood to his feet, standing closer to you and cupping your face, “YN, honey, how are you feeling?” 

You blinked a few times, once again trying to sit up, “I’m thirsty,” you said, struggling to speak. 

“Here, hold onto me so we can sit you up, okay?” Jake rested his hands under her arms and you gripped onto the sleeves of his shirt, pulling as he used his strength to help you shift up, “Be careful,” he whispered. 

Once you were sitting up, Jake helped balance you so he could raise the head of the bed and then help you lean back. He adjusted your pillows helping you feel more comfortable. 

“Thirsty,” you said with a raspy voice. 

Jake nodded, cupping your face once again, and rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks. His eyes glossed over, trying hard to not let the tears fall again, you were okay. You were safe and alive and breathing. You were here with him. He glanced up at the bandage atop your head, “Does your head hurt?” 

You nodded, the pain in your head and your waist fully kicking in, “Both do.” 

Jake placed a kiss on your forehead then went to the bedside table, grabbing the bottled water and the pain meds the doctors said to give you once you woke up, “Here, my love.” 

He handed you the meds and water. You swallowed to the best of your ability and chugged down the water, handing the bottle back to him. He set it back to the table and sat back down in the chair, pulling it closer. 

You stared back at him, watching as he reached for your hand, his fingers twisting at each of yours, before finally clasping his hand with yours, the other covering the top of your hand, “What do you remember?” he softly asked, trying to keep his breathing steady. 

“Everything,” you sighed, looking away from him and to the door, “Was that necessary?” 

“Of course it was,” he scoffed, “I’m not risking you getting hurt again. Trust no one.” 

You tilted your head at your boyfriend, reaching up with your free hand and cupping his face. Jake leaned into your touch, eyes getting glossy again. 

“I was scared I lost you.” Jake didn’t ever want to feel what he felt ever again. Seeing you almost lifeless on the sidewalk, your skin cold and your blood staining the grass and concrete. He screamed as loud as he could until finally another student came out of nowhere and called an ambulance. He didn’t leave your side. He paced the halls back and forth at your room until the doctors came out saying you were stable and your wounds were stitched up and bandaged. “I don’t want to ever go through that again.” 

You slid your hand down to his shirt collar, pulling him towards you, or well attempting to. You were still too weak, but Jake knew what you wanted. So he carefully stood and inched his face closer to yours, pressing his lips to yours. 

He kissed you a couple more times, then sat back down, “What were you doing at the campus?” he finally asked, “I told you to stay home.” 

You softly smiled, “I wanted to get your laptop and the articles you wrote.” 

Jake sighed, looking down at the bed, “Baby, I had a flash drive at home in the drawer.” 

You felt stupid, not even thinking he had other backups, “I’m sorry…” you whispered, tears filling your eyes. 

“Shhh, no,” he said, cupping your face, “Don’t cry, it's okay, I am not mad. I was worried about you.” Jake was more than worried. He was terrified. He didn’t know what he would have done if he found you dead. He’d probably hunt down the imposter, get revenge for what he did to you, and then kill himself. This world wasn’t worth living in if you weren’t living in it. 

You leaned into his face, kissing the palm of his hand, “I shouldn’t have left.” 

Jake just smiles at you, “Tell me everything that happened, from start to finish.” 

So you did. Giving him every detail possible. 

—

“YN,” Jake sighs, pushing your hands off him, “You need rest.” 

All Jake did was come into the bedroom to check on you and give you the pain meds the doctors prescribed to you and you didn’t waste a chance to jump his bones. 

You cross your arms over your chest, rolling your eyes and pouting. Jake smiles and tilts his head at you, “Stop pouting and take your meds.” 

It’s been a week since the incident. A week of laying in this bed and Jake taking care of you while also doing what he could to piece together and solve the imposter ghost face cases. The imposter has been quiet since you encountered him, no phone calls to either yours or Jake’s phone, or even any more murders. Whoever they were, they weren’t radio silent. 

Except for Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Jay of course. Sunghoon arrived at the hospital after hearing the rumors being spread around campus of Jake crying and screaming for help because you were hurt. Heeseung and Jay spammed the group chats you all had for the investigation, asking if you needed anything and of course Jake answering for you saying no. 

Sunghoon now officially knew where the two of you lived, Jake forcing—and threatening—him to keep his mouth about the location of the apartment and to never come over unless he was told to. Sunghoon finally understood now why Jake was being the way he was, all to protect you. 

“I’ve been resting for a week,” you scoffed with a click of your tongue, “I can walk perfectly fine and even use the bathroom and shower on my own.” 

Jake blankly stares back at you, refusing to answer until you take the water and medicine from his hand. So you did, swallowing the pills down with the water. You set the water bottle down on the nightstand, glaring at him. 

He glared back, “If I give you a kiss will you rest?” 

You relaxed your face and nodded. To say you’re deprived of sex would be…silly to say in the least. Jake normally fucked you any chance he could get. But after you got hurt…he didn’t want to risk hurting you or your stitches coming out. He’s told you this, but the more time that passes, the more you crave him. 

Jake sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down and connecting your lips together. Jake held your lips a bit longer, giving you a few more kisses then slowly standing up. You sat up reaching your hands for his shoulders and pulling yourself to your knees and reconnecting your lips to his, pressing your body to his chest. 

“YN,” he said between kisses, hovering his hands over your hips and then shoving you back down to the bed. He was quick to put his hands on your shoulders and push you back down in a lying position. He kept his hand on your shoulders as you glared up at him. Jake wanted to fuck you, oh how badly he wanted to fuck you. He was tired of fucking his cock with his fist the past week, but you needed rest. At least until your stitches were safe to be removed. But that still didn’t stop you from trying to fight against the hold he had on your shoulders. 

“YN,” he sighs, “You’re fucking insane,” he slowly removed his hands from your shoulders, “You were stabbed three times and hit your head, stay the fuck down.” 

Hmmm. Nah. 

You grabbed him by his shirt collar, using your slow returning strength, and pulled him down onto the bed and climbed into his lap, “Funny how you call me insane,” you start to tease him, removing your shirt from your body, exposing your bare chest, “When you’re literally a serial killer.” 

Jake was hard. His hands settled onto your hips and looping his fingers into the thin fabric of your panties, “You’re dating a serial killer, my love. Doesn’t that make you just as insane as me?” 

“What makes you insane,” you whispered, sliding your hands under his shirt and lifting the clothing up, “Is not giving your insane girlfriend what she wants,” you pulled his shirt off his body, running your hands down his broad chest and abs, stopping at the waistband of his shorts. You brush your lips against his, watching how lustful his expression was becoming, “Fuck me, Jake.” 

Jake tore his fingers into your panties, tearing them in half and tossing them to the floor, “Lift up for me, baby.” 

You held onto his shoulder as you lifted yourself up, your breasts now eye level with his face. Jake leaned forward, placing his face between your breasts, kissing them down the middle, his hands cupping them, squeezing them to his face, and taking your skin between his teeth and sucking gently, slowly working his way to your nipple and taking it in his mouth. He sucked on the sensitive nub, hands flying to his shorts and pulling them off him. Jake bit your nipple and pulled slowly, letting it slip from his teeth. He reattached his lips to it, licking and giving it one final kiss before looking up at you, “I need you on my cock, honey.” 

Jake lined his tip to your entrance, one hand on your hip as you slowly slid down him. 

“Fuck,” Jake breathes, resting his head on your shoulder as his tip kissed your cervix, “Fuck you feel so good.” 

A week without your pussy was a week too long and it took everything in Jake to not fuck his hips up into you, letting you completely take control. 

You started off slow, letting yourself adjust to his size and working up your speed. His cock felt so fucking good rubbing against your walls. You’ve craved this, craved him and his touch. You were already losing yourself on his dick, bouncing on him as if it were the last time. 

“Jake,” you moaned out his name, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Oh, fuck, Jae.” 

He bit his lip, flinging his head back and squeezing your thighs, using every ounce of self-control he had to not fuck you senseless, “Fuck, baby,” he moans, “Keep going, oh fuck please keep fucking yourself on my cock.” 

You bounced faster, his tip hitting all the right spots. 

Jake groaned, sliding his hands carefully to your waist, trying to be gentle to not irritate your wounds more than what they probably already were. He was starting to lose himself to your cunt, becoming a moaning mess each time you clench around him, “YN, I’m going to cum if you keep clenching me like that, honey.”

You kept moving, sliding up and down, up and down, rocking your hips as fast as you could go to chase your climax, “I wa-wanna cum,” you gasp, legs getting tired but still pushing nevertheless. 

“Yeah?” Jake whispered, wrapping his arm carefully around your waist, “Baby wants to cum?” You nod, biting your lip. Jake pressed you to him, flipping you over and lying you down on your back, “I’ll make you cum, honey, make you feel so fucking good.” 

You gasped as he fucked into you, using his knees to push your legs further apart, giving him more access. 

You dug your nails into his back, moaning his name repeatedly each time his tip hit your g-spot. You are nearly a second away from cumming. Jake pistoned his hips against yours, hands gripping the bed sheets between his fingers, “Cum for me baby, let it go.” 

Jake thrust hard into you, pushing his cock as far as it could go the moment he felt your cum wrap around his cock, “Jae,” you breathed running your hands up into his hair, “Jaeyun.” 

He kept pushing into you, groaning when he finally pulled out and pushed back in, rocking his hips so fast, “Going to fill this pussy so full of my cum,” he places his lips onto yours, “Fuck, going to cum so deep in this cunt.” 

Jake’s movements got sloppy, breathing becoming uneven as he kept his lips pressed to yours. Jake wanted to cum so bad, it’s been a week since he’s been able to pump his load into your sweet cunt, to feel you clench around him at the feeling of his cum filling you whole. Oh, he couldn’t wait, knowing he could burst at any moment…

“I’m cumming, oh fuck I’m cumming,” he moans against your lips, thrusting a final time and painting your walls, his cum leaking from your pussy. 

Jake rode out his high, slowly catching his breath. He pulled out of you with a grunt, shifting to your left and lying beside you, pulling your face to him to kiss your cheek. 

You smiled and softly laughed, feeling satisfied and so full. Jake was happy seeing you smile, his eyes rolling down to the bandages on the right side of your waist. His smile slowly faded, his fingers tracing over the bandage. He almost lost you. Almost was never able to see your smile and hear your laugh ever again. His blood boiled. 

“Jake,” you whispered, seeing him lost in thought, “Babe,” 

Jake looks into your eyes, “I’m going to kill them, for doing this to you.” You frown, placing a hand on his face. He leaned into your touch, “I’d set this world on fire for you, ya know,” he whispered, his facial expression relaxing, “I’d let it burn and tear apart into ashes and nothingness. Let it completely burn for you.” You leaned into him, laying your head against his chest, his arms pulling you tighter to him. Jake kissed the top of your head and stared up at the ceiling, “I’m going to end that fucker for what they’ve done to you and burn this fucking world down.” 

—

Jake stared down the other two males in front of him, burning holes into their bodies. 

Jay stared back, brows furrowed. Heeseung only glanced up every few seconds, trying to keep his eyes glued to his laptop, pushing his glasses back up his nose. 

“Say some shit,” Jay said with a cool calm with irritation. 

“Some shit,” Jake smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You just roll your eyes, “Can we not today? We have work to do.” 

Jake’s smirk turned into a frown, body relaxing and leaning into you, resting his head on your shoulder. 

“He really is like a dog,” Jay scrunched his nose, “No wonder he barks so much.” 

“Woof.” 

You drop your head into your palms, rubbing your eyes, “Jaeyun Sim, please.” 

Jake has been overprotective of you ever since returning back to campus. Your stitches were removed, but the scar and irritation were still present. It hurt to breathe at times or move certain ways, but you wouldn’t let it affect you. You needed to catch the imposter, after all. 

“Anyways,” Heeseung mumbled, eyeing Jake one last time before looking at the laptop, “The police report finally came back from your case, YN. And the photos my team took are pulled up here as well.” Heeseung sent both files to the group chat. 

“I’m uploading the…” Jay started saying, quickly glancing down at his phone, his jaw flexing then flipping the phone over on the table face down, “Anyways, I am uploading the news report we filmed on top of the official news report from the town,” Jay typed away at his computer, the files popping up in the group chat. 

The four of you looked over the files and reports. Five minutes turned into an hour, and an hour into two. Yet nothing stood out in your case. 

The imposter didn’t leave or take anything at the scene of the crime. They even left Jake’s laptop and folder. Which was odd, considering the imposter would want to take that information? Right? Nothing was adding up. Nothing made sense. Whoever this imposter was, they were thorough, and clean, only left behind what they knew couldn’t be traced back to them. This was a game to them. And they are somewhere laughing their ass off right now. 

Heeseung leaned back in the chair, flinging his head back and pushing his glasses up onto the top of his head, pulling his dark hair up with it. His fingers rubbed at his eyes, “Is there anything any of you can think of that we are skipping over?” he sighed, “Not just with YN’s case?” 

Jay also sighed, his phone buzzing and him looking back at it, carefully lifting it up, then setting it back down, “Not that I know of,” he looked at you, “Is there anything you remember that happened when you were attacked?” 

Jake traced his eyes back and forth between you and Jay and Jay’s phone, tuning out your story, not on purpose, of course, he’s heard you retell your attack multiple times now. The more he hears it, the more pissed he gets. Jay’s phone buzzed again, “Are you going to answer whoever it is that’s spamming you?” Jake said, tilting his head, “It’s been going off nonstop since you’ve been in here.” 

Jay thinned his lips, “I apologize, there’s stuff going on with my family and the arcade.” 

Jake chuckled, “Ahh, the fun arcade.” Jay glared at him, clearly remembering what Jake did in his arcade. 

You rolled your eyes again, tapping your fingers on the table, “This is irritating.” 

Heeseung sat back right in his chair, looking over at you and giving you a small smile, “Hey,” he whispered, leaning closer to you and placing his hand on top of yours, making Jake’s blood boil, “We’ll catch this guy, yeah?” 

Jake swatted Heeseung’s hand off yours, “Hands off.”’

Heeseung blankly stared at Jake and gave a soft nod, pulling his glasses back to his nose, “I apologize.” 

Jake held both your hands in his now, protecting them from being touched again. Eyeing the fuck out of Heeseung. 

You pushed aside your boyfriend's jealousy, staring at your laptop screen, looking over every piece of evidence, “Wait!” You said, pulling your hands out of Jake’s and typing away at your computer. 

“Find something, honey?” Jake asked, peeking over to your screen. 

“I forgot I put in a request for some specific reports and evidence from all the ghost face cases from start to now,” you could feel Jake shift in his chair, not because you are pulling his murders, but all of them combined. It was genius. It would be an easier way to read each of them and find the differences instead of just looking at the pictures and the news reports and articles or trying to piece each puzzle together on your corkboard. This all-in-one combo could give the advantage needed. Jake could fuck you right here in front of everyone and not give a damn. “I put in the request while in the hospital, they should be ready by now.” 

Heeseung was now towering over your laptop to get a look, but quickly sat down after a glare from Jake. He’s way too easy to fuck with. Jake smirked. 

“They are ready!” You stood from the chair, going to take a step. 

“Woah,” Jake said, grabbing your arm, “Where are you running off to?” 

You looked at your boyfriend, then the other two males, “The police station?” 

“Like hell you are!” Jake snapped, “You aren’t going anywhere!” 

Heeseung looked up at you with pleading eyes, “YN, he’s right. You literally got attacked two weeks ago, you shouldn’t be going anywhere alone.” 

“Heeseung gets it!” Jake pointed a finger at him, “Sit back down.” 

“We need those papers!” you retort, trying to pry your arm out of his grasp. 

“I’ll go get it,” Jay said, looking back down at his phone again, “I have to stop by the news office anyways and get something from Jungwon before heading out, I’ll bring the reports here right after.” 

You wanted to protest, but with the three of them, you knew you’d lose. So you just nodded, giving him a small “Thank you, Jay.” 

He shoved his phone into his pocket and smiled back at you, reaching over to ruffle your hair and walk to the door, “No problem, stinks.” Then he was out the door. 

“Stinks?” both Jake and Heeseung said in unison, both side-eyeing you. 

You shrug, “He said I reeked of dog—aka Jake—the other day before Jake’s cologne was strong and rubbed off on me, then he started calling me stinks.” 

Jake scrunched his nose, “I don’t ever want him calling you that again.” 

Even Heeseung scrunched his nose, “It’s an odd nickname to give someone.” 

You rolled your eyes, “He’s being a big brother, kind of.” 

Jake shook his head, “Nope. We aren’t doing this.” 

“Anyway,” Heeseung said, looking at you with his heart smile, “Want to get some lunch from the cafe on campus?” 

“Absolutely! I’ve been craving their coffee and wanting to try that new raspberry pastry!” 

You pulled out of Jake’s grasp and piled your belongings together and shoved them in your backpack, tossing them over your shoulders. Heeseung did the same, noticing Jake’s glare, “Are you coming as well or?” Heeseung asked. 

“Oh? I’m invited?” Jake scoffed, “You weren’t trying to just get my girlfriend alone with you?” 

Heeseung’s glasses fell down to the bottom of his nose as he continued to pack up his things, looking away from Jake, “Considering you don’t let her have any friends, yeah guess you’re invited too.” 

Jake stood to his feet, not liking that Heeseung was talking back to him right now, “Considering my girlfriend had her life threatened and was stabbed three times, excuse me for not letting her out of my sight,” he counters. 

Heeseung pushed his glasses up, “I get it, but I wouldn’t hurt her. But I get it. That’s why I am extending an invitation to you too. You also could use some friends besides Sunghoon.” 

Jake raised his brow. You looped your arm with Jake’s and Heeseung’s, pulling him out of his thoughts, “Come on you two, let’s just get some food. We can invite Jay and Jungwon too, even Sunoo! Where is he by the way?” You asked, “I know Wonnie had an exam and project to work on from what Jay said, what about the sunshine?” 

Heeseung smiled and shrugged, “Sunoo had class and work later, but don’t worry I’ll get him caught up on everything we talked about today.” 

You nodded, pulling the two boys with you towards the doors, “I’m starving!” 

Jake and Heeseung glanced at each other, allowing you to pull them both towards the cafe. 

—

Jake crossed his arms, staring up at the corkboard here at the office. It’s almost two-thirty in the morning, and nothing but the moonlight peeking from the windows lit up the room. Jake was thankful you had two exact copies of the corkboard for both the apartment and the office, making it easier than carrying the big damn thing back and forth all the time. 

He glances down at his phone propped on the corner of the corkboard on the railing, all the cameras in the apartment pulled up on the screen. His eyes shift to the one in the bedroom, seeing you fast asleep in your shared bed. He didn’t want to leave you alone, but he didn’t want to wake you up and drag you here either, all because he couldn’t sleep and needed to wrap his head around this case. 

Jake pulled the papers you requested from the police station earlier out of his backpack, reading over it. It’s been the fourth time he’s looked at this, rereading over his ghost face cases and the imposters, trying to find the fine line that would point to who this imposter was. But the more he looked over it, the more his brain hurt. 

He tossed the papers to the table, running his hands through his hair. Jake had a mental list of suspects, trying to match each person to the cases, but nothing added up. 

Jake assumed it was someone close, not specifically close to him, but close in a way they’ve known about his crimes for the longest time. Known who he was. Jake’s first suspect was Sunghoon, since his best friend was the one who planted it into your mind of the possibility Jake was the ghost face. But Jake continued to keep tabs on Sunghoon, and he hasn’t done or said anything out of the ordinary for Jake to really actually keep him on the list. So he was shoved out. The others? Full game. 

Jake’s next one on the suspects' list is Jay. Jay had always had a small crush on you, and that hasn’t changed even after working with him on the cases. Not to mention he oddly kept checking his phone today and was so quick to offer to get the papers for you. Either he really was just being a protective brotherly figure to you, or he’s the imposter. Jake also didn’t like the attention Jay gave you, still wanting to string Jay’s body from the ceiling of his arcade. 

Heeseung was the third on the list but also the least of Jake’s concerns. Heeseung was skittish and very shy. Very much in love with you, it was obvious. Heeseung looked as if he was about to crawl into his turtle shell and never come back out. He only spoke when spoken to really, unless he had something to say and even then it was quiet and not munch. His department head was also murdered and he was forced to step up, the likeliness of Heeseung being the imposter was slim. 

The rest Jake had on the list were Danielle, Jungwon, Sunoo, and a few others on his soccer team and people in his classes. 

Jake kept rotating the suspect list, trying to pinpoint exactly who would have such a grudge against him to become a copycat murderer. Someone who clearly wanted to watch him suffer, as the imposter said. 

He ran the statement you told him at the hospital over and over in his head, then looked back at the reports, looking at the corkboard, and then pulled up all the files Jay and Heeseung have shared with everyone on his laptop. 

Something clicked in Jake’s brain. His eyes widened. He quickly typed away at his computer, fingers rushing across the keys and eyes darting over every piece of information that was laid out in front of him. 

He smirked, the corners of his lips curling as a laugh escaped his lips, it echoing against the quiet walls of the office, “No fucking way,” he leaned back in the chair, throwing his hands behind his head, “I got you, imposter.” 

Jake wasn’t one hundred percent sure he figured it out, but he knew. He just knew. All Jake needed was the full solid proof. And it was his mission now to figure out a way to get it. 

Jake thought about how he found you two weeks ago, how close you were to death, how close he was to losing you. Jake never was so terrified in his life. Seeing the love and light of his life passing the line of life and death, it killed him. Drove him into a frenzy of wanting to murder every single damn person in this town and the next one over to make sure he got the imposter. But alas, that wasn’t an option. But that didn’t matter now, you would be avenged soon. 

All Jake had to do was make his preparations, which he did before finally heading back to the apartment.  

—

Jake pressed your body against the cool wall of the shower, your face connecting to the wall with a moan. He wrapped your hair around his hand, pulling your face from the wall, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear as the hot water spilled between your bodies. 

He slid in and out of you with such ease, pulling and yanking at your hair, teeth biting your ear, tongue sliding up and down your ear, soft moans escaping his lips with each thrust and kiss of his tip to your cervix, “Fuck baby, can’t get enough of you.” 

You balanced your hands on the wall, slightly pushing yourself down and lifting back your hips so Jake could pound into you easier, “Jaeeee,” your whimper, “Gonna cum soon.” 

He smirked, “Yeah, babe?” he slowed his thrusts, yanking your hair and forcing your back to connect to his wet chest, “Wanna cum? And make a mess of my cock?” you nod, reaching your hands up and into his wet hair. 

Jake wanted to ruin your pussy. Wanted to fuck you so good you wouldn’t be able to walk for weeks. Fucking you slowly was driving him crazy but oh god it felt so damn good. His breaking became uneven, his moans getting louder. He wanted to cum. To fill your cunt to the brim with his seed and hear your pretty little moans once you feel it seeping out your hole. 

He removed his hand from your hair, sliding his hands down your arms and to your breasts, tracing their outline and flicking your nipples then continued down to your belly and sliding to your waist. 

Jake looked down at your body, loving how it moved with his cock sliding against your walls, eyes taking notice of your stab wounds. Jake locked his jaw as he traced his fingers over the still-healing wounds. Your stitches are gone now, but the scars will now last you forever. A remembrance of what happened to you. A reminder to Jake of what was done to you. 

You felt Jake was disconnected, in some faraway land as he stared down at your wounds, “Jake,” you whisper, tilting your head up to look at him, “Look at me,” Your hand touched his cheek and his eyes looked to you, worried filling them, “I’m alive. I’m here and I’m alive thanks to you,” you slid your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him down, your lips brushing over his, “You’re literally balls deep in my pussy right now, focus on me.” 

He smirked against your lips, then kissed you hard. Your chest was now back against the wall. One of his hands was on your clit, and the other was on your hip. His hips fucked up into you harder and faster than before, your knees buckling, “Hmm what is it, babe?” He coos in your ear, “You said you wanted to cum, so I’m going to make you cum.” 

You moaned his name on repeat, fingers trying their hardest to grip to the wall and praying your knees don’t give out on you. You just wanted to take a nice warm shower before cuddling with Jake on the couch and watching movies, he obviously had other plans. Pulling back the curtains already naked and cock hard in his hands, eyes leading with you as he stepped into the shower with you, “Baby, I need you to take care of this. Need you so bad.” You weren’t complaining, shower sex then cuddling afterward? Still a win-win. 

His finger of your clit with the help of his cock buried deep inside you, your orgasm approached, coating his cock, “That’s it, such a good girl for me, making such a pretty mess on my cock,” he kissed your temple, “I’m fixing to cum, squeeze me tighter, honey.” You clenched around him and he gasped, whimpering out as his breathing became more unsteady. Heart racing as he felt the build-up, cock twitching, “I’m cumming, I’m cu-cumming.” 

Jake shoved his cock as far as he could into your pussy, hips pressing hard against your ass as his white ropes shot between your gummy walls. Jake already knew he came a lot, he could feel it seeping out your hole and physically see it was dripping down your leg. 

“I came so much,” he whispered and chuckled, slowly pulling out and cupping your cunt with his hand, shoving his fingers inside, “Can’t let it go to waste, wanna breed you.”

You leaned back into your boyfriend and smiled. You wanted to tease him that you were on birth control, but let him smile and kiss you as he continued to fuck your cunt with his fingers. 

You finally were able to convince Jake that it was time to finish the shower and get out, mostly now that the water was cold. Jake stood behind you with nothing but his basketball shorts on, running a brush through your hair as his other hand held the hairdryer. He stopped every couple of minutes to place a kiss on your head and whisper he loved you. He even gave you one of his favorite sweatshirts and a pair of his boxers for you to wear to be comfy. You figured his actions were all the cause of you getting stabbed. Hell if this is what it took for him to be this sweet, you’d get stabbed again(totally not, because that shit sucked. You’d never want to go through it again). 

Once your hair was dry, Jake pulled you into the living room, “Want popcorn, my love?” 

You smiled, giving him a nod, “Of course! Can’t have movie night with…out…” your smile faded. Causing Jake’s smile to fade as well. 

Your eyes widened, everything happening way too fast before you could tell Jake to move. 

Jake felt something was off when he saw how you looked behind him. He quickly whipped around, being met face to face with ghost face, their knife sliding into his chest just below his collar bone. He grunts out in pain, but uses the strength he had to push you away from them and onto the floor, then quickly grasping their wrists. It’s not there… Jake pushed the ghost face back, sending them back a couple of steps away. 

Jake took a few quick deep breaths and pulled the knife from his chest, tossing it across the living room. The ghost face was moving back towards Jake, swinging his fist but missing as Jake ducked down. 

Blood was gushing down his chest, making him lightheaded, and once he was low enough to the ground, his knees betrayed him and gave out, connecting to the floor and hands gripping his wound. 

The ghost face came prepared, pulling another knife from their cloak pocket, and walked up behind Jake, grasping a handful of his hair and yanking his head up. Jake gritted his teeth as he stared up at the mask, the knife resting against his throat. 

“Goodbye, Sim.” The voice mod said with a shake in their voice. 

Jake just smiles up at him. 

Time seemed to have slowed for you just then. Your heart racing as you see the imposter hovering over Jake, panic filling you. You were going to watch him kill Jake. They were going to kill Jake then kill you. Your breathing became uneven as you stared at him, watching as he smirked and laughed at the person standing over and about to kill him. How could he be laughing with a knife to his throat? The knife. Where was the knife?

You looked where Jake tossed it at, seeing it near the couch, his blood staining the blade and the carpet it sat beneath. With shaky legs, you stood to your feet, moving as fast as your legs would carry you, picking up the knife. 

The ghost face tilted his head, “What is so funny?” 

“You’re not the ghost face, Park.” 

Before he could respond to Jake, you plunged forward, pushing the knife into his shoulder, his screams filling the apartment and his blood coating your face as you yanked the knife out. With all your strength you pulled at the cloak, digging your foot into the back of his knee and sending him to the ground. 

The moment his back touched the floor, you straddled over his abdomen, the knife piercing into his chest, pushing it further in into the hilt touching his skin. 

“Wait! Fuck please wait!” 

You snarled. He just stabbed your boyfriend and nearly killed you weeks ago and he had the guts to beg? Fuck. This. 

You pulled the knife out and shoved it back in, “You think you can just beg for your life now?” You snapped. 

“It’s Jay!! Please, YN, STOP!!” You sat still, feeling Jay’s hands on your thighs. He gasped for air and you went back to panicking. 

You quickly pulled the mask off his face, seeing the sweat build up on his forehead and blonde hair sticking to his face. Blood dripped out of his mouth and fear covered every inch of his face. 

“It’s…you…” you whispered. 

Jay shook his head to the best of his ability, “I’m not the ghost face.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Jake said, standing behind you, eyes burning into Jay, “How the fuck did you find out where we lived?” 

Jay gasped more for air, more blood spilling from his chest and shoulder wounds. 

“Jake, call an ambulance!!” You snapped, pulling the knife from Jay’s chest and pressing your hands to the wounds, “NOW!! You need help too!” 

Jake held the pressure still to his chest and repeated, “How the fuck did you find out where we lived, Jay Park.” 

Jay took as deep of a breath as he could, squeezing your thighs, “I didn’t. The real ghost face called me one night, telling me he knew who I was, and who my family was, saying he had a job for me.” 

Jake narrowed his eyes, “Keep fucking talking.” 

“I laughed and ended the call. A few days later a duffle bag filled with money appeared on my front porch, with a note telling me to answer my phone, so when it rang, I answered, hearing that stupid voice mod on the other end,” he gasped for air again, “They mentioned the job again, and that the money was my payment. I asked what the job was, and they told me to kill you, Sim.” 

Jake’s face was unchanged, but your heart was racing. You stared at Jay, his eyes looking back at you, his thumbs rubbing against your skin. 

“I declined at first, I couldn’t take him away from you, YN. No matter my feelings for you I couldn’t do it. I donated the money to charity and went on about my business. The next day you were attacked.” 

You kept the pressure on his chest, tears now filling your eyes, “Jay…” 

“After that I tried calling the number over and over, figuring it was a burner phone. But once you returned back to campus, I started receiving text messages,” You recalled the memory, Jay’s phone constantly buzzing and Jake snapping at him to answer it, “The texts told me that if I didn’t kill Sim, they would kill not just YN, but my family. They sent me photos of my parents at their jobs, photos of my friends in their homes, and photos of Jungwon in the new rooms. Photos of YN the day she was stabbed walking into campus and then photos of her bleeding out on the sidewalk and the last photo of you Sim, from the journaling office, wearing the exact clothes you did the day I received all those texts, meaning the killer had to be nearby.” 

Jake processed the information and then kneeled down to Jay’s face, “How did you find out where we lived?” 

“They sent me your address,” he swallowed but then coughed, the red liquid now dripping down his neck, “They gave me a time frame on when I had to do it. Told me the password to the gates of the apartment complex, which building, floor, and apartment number.” 

Jake tilted his head, narrowing his eyes, “And you thought you could just walk in here and kill me? Don’t you know who I am? That I’m fucking insane. Mostly when my girl's life is on the line?” 

Jay closed his eyes tightly, releasing a groan, “Trust me, after the day you fucked her in my arcade I knew you were fucking crazy.” Jay’s words were now shuddering, his voice becoming softer, “I was…scared. I couldn’t…lose my family and friends.” 

“Who is the ghost face?” Jake tested. 

“I…don’t…know.” 

You looked up at Jake, begging him, “Call an ambulance, Jake. Please!” you started crying, blaming yourself for if Jay died, “Jake!” 

Jake stood, taking a few steps back. He understood Jay’s desperation. If some wack ass killer in a white mask and black suit told him to murder someone or else they would kill you, he’d do every task they asked of him. 

“Where is your phone?” He asked Jay.

Jay couldn’t form words, but nodded to his pocket. You let go of his chest for enough time to pull the phone from the cloak, Jake taking it from your hands, the phone soaked red. 

You continued to beg Jake to call an ambulance, tears staining your face as more of Jay’s blood stained the carpet and Jake’s eyes started to unfocus. 

—

You sat on the table in the office, kicking your feet back and forth and fingers gripping the edge of the table. A knock hit the door, and you looked in its direction, “Come in.” 

Heeseung popped his head in, glasses falling to the tip of his nose, “You called a meeting?”

You smiled and nodded, “Come on in.” 

Heeseung fully walked in, taking a look around the room, “Where is everyone else?” He asked, raising his brow. 

“They should be here soon,” you leaned back a bit against the table, “It’s just you and me for right now.” 

Heeseung awkwardly nodded, fingers playing with the straps of his backpack and looking down to the floor. 

“Why don’t you come over here?” You playfully said, “Set your stuff done and come here.” The corners of his lips pulled into a small smile. He nodded again and dropped his bag to the floor. 

Heeseung stood across from you, leaning against the filing cabinet, pushing his glasses back up his nose. 

You look him up and down, “Jake told me you had a crush on me.” 

Heeseung’s eyes widened, ears burning red, “H-He what? That’s silly, YN.” He looked away from you and back to the floor. 

“You don’t have to lie to me, Seungie,” he looked back up at you. You spread your legs apart, “What if I told you I felt the same way?” Heeseung swallowed, eyes trailing down to your bare legs, shorts riding up your crotch, “Come here, Hee.” 

Heeseung pushed himself off the cabinet and walked up to you. 

You tilted your head, “Come closer.” You shot your eyes down between your legs and back up to his face. 

Heeseung took a step back, “No, we can’t do this.” 

“Jake won’t find out,” you whispered, reaching up and grabbing the collar of his tee shirt, pulling him between your legs. 

You wrapped them around his hips, locking him into place. You kept your fingers on his collar, pulling him closer, “You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” you teased him, blowing your breath onto his glasses, watching them fog up. 

Heeseung shot his hands to your thighs, “Don’t tease me,” he whispered, the fog lifting off his glasses, revealing his blown-out eyes. 

You scooted yourself closer, your ass barely hanging off the table, and pulled him even closer with your legs, his hard length now pressing to your stomach. You smirked, “A little excited, are we?” 

Heeseung’s hands slid up your thighs, squeezing and yanking you closer, shifting himself to press his length to your heat, “I told you to not tease me.” 

You snaked your hands up to his neck, playing with his hair, “I have to be honest, I didn’t call a meeting. Only you.” 

Heeseung cutely giggled, thumbs rubbing the plush of your skin, “Only me?” 

You nodded, “Come closer.” 

Heeseung leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, “I want to kiss you so bad…can I?” 

You brushed your lips back, “Can I tell you something first?” 

He rocked his hips against you, “Anything.” 

“How did it feel?” Heeseung moves away a few inches, looking at you in confusion, “How did it feel to stab me three times and leave me for dead, Mr. Ghost face?” 

His hand was now in your hair, pulling your head back and a yelp escaped your mouth. 

Everything about Heeseung changed. His body straightened out, face from relaxed to hard, jaw locked and eyes piercing. You looked up at him in fear, and he just laughed. 

“You finally figured me out huh?” even his voice was different. It was no longer the cute bubbly tone, but now it was chilling and cold. He pulled your hair back further, giving you no choice but to look at him, “Or should I say, the original figured me out.” 

You swallowed, “Why did you do it? I trusted you.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Heeseung smirked, lifting his other hand from your thigh and caressing your face, the watch you’ve seen before sitting on his wrist perfectly, “Why did I do it? Do what? Gotta be more specific.” 

You’ve done this dance before with Jake, “Why did you commit those murders? Why did you stab me?” 

He smirked even wider, “Because it was fun,” his voice sent chills down your spine, “And for why I stabbed you?” he leaned forward, brushing his nose to your jaw, “Because I wanted to watch the love of my life bleed out.” His breath formed goosebumps on your neck and he chuckled, gently planting a kiss on your neck, “It was so easy to convince Jay to break into your apartment,” he stood back up, “All I had to do was threaten your life. You have a lot of crazy people in your corner, don’t you, sweetheart?” 

You took a few deep breaths in, trying to stay calm, “You wanted Jake to suffer, why?” 

Heeseung leaned back inches away from your face, “Because he has something that I want, a few things, actually.” He ran his hand back down to your thigh, snaking his fingers under your shorts, “Where is he, by the way? Does he know where you are right now? He is a crazy fucking dog after all.” You glanced over Heeseung’s shoulder. 

“This crazy fucking dog is right behind you,” Jake hissed, a knife now pressing to Heeseung’s throat, “And I suggest you back the fuck off my girlfriend before I start barking and slit your throat.” 

Heeseung released his hands off you, slowly backing away with Jake, “Where the fuck did you come from?” 

Jake chuckled, patting Heeseung’s back, “This is my office, you don’t think I don’t know every inch of this room from top to bottom to hide in? For a serial killer, you’re fucking stupid.” 

Heeseung gritted his teeth, “Go to hell.” 

Jake pressed the blade more into his skin, “It’s crazy how you were able to mimic everything I did, even down to the weapon and clothes, stalker much?” 

“Had to learn somehow,” Heeseung countered with a smirk, “At least I succeeded in almost killing YN, versus you folding the minute her legs were spread.” 

“Watch your fucking mouth!” Jake barked, “I will spill your blood so fucking fast don’t try me.” 

The rage Jake was feeling at this moment, the rage that was boiling, and every instinct telling him to slide Heeseung’s throat for the hell he’s put him through. For hurting you. 

Heeseung laughed, “Your buttons are so easy to push when YN is involved.” 

You pierce your eyes into him, “If Jake doesn’t kill you, I will!” 

Heeseung tilted his head back, “Like how you almost killed Jay?” 

That statement was enough proof to show Heeseung had access to your cameras, he was watching the entire thing unfold. 

“Anyway,” Jake clicked his tongue, “Where is your sidekick?” 

Heeseung chuckled, “My what?” 

Jake sighed, “Should we ask Sunoo about it instead? I know he’s outside that door. Ain’t that right, Sun?” 

The door opened and a smiling Sunoo walked in, “Figured us both out that easily?” 

“We figured Heeseung had help,” you said, pushing yourself off the table and picking up his backpack and placing it on the table, “Jake and I discussed this plenty at the hotel room we’ve been in the last couple nights, that he had to have help. Heeseung was too calm while Jay’s phone was getting spammed. Heeseung didn’t even have his phone out. How did he receive those texts?” 

You opened the backpack, seeing a laptop, one textbook, and the ghost face mask. You looked at Sunoo, “You’re the one who sent the texts to Jay and helped Heeseung track us at all times. You have your own mask too, don’t you? Hiding it in the investigation room?” 

Sunoo kept his smile, “It was there,” he shot his eyes to Jake, “But I’m assuming it’s no longer there.” 

Jake smirked, “You think I’d let some fucking copycats steal my thunder? Nah.” He removed the knife from Heeseung’s throat, and pushed him away, quickly grabbing you and pulling you to his side, “Besides,” Jake chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist and looking down at the knife, “All the evidence I have against you was already turned into the police. Sunoo’s gear too. And now that we have your gear,” Jake tossed the knife to the table, “The cops have everything they needed.” 

The sounds of running filled the hallways, enough proof that the police had finally arrived. Heeseung and Sunoo didn’t loosen their glares off you and Jake even as their wrists got cuffed and they were dragged out of the office. 

Jake pulled you into a hug, his breath hitching, “It’s over,” he whispered in your ear, “It’s finally over.” 

You hugged your boyfriend tightly, “I’m proud of you for not killing him.” 

Jake chuckled, “Trust me, honey, it took a lot to not.” 

A few investigators questioned you and Jake, then sent you on your way. You and Jake were able to walk home freely with no worries. 

Heeseung and Sunoo were on the news that night, video footage of them being pushed into the police cars and being hauled off, the newsman discussing each murder case, including the ones Jake committed. Each victim is named in tribute to the killer finally being caught. 

You laid on top of Jake on your shared couch, the bandages from his stab wound Jay gave him peeked out of his hoodie. You traced your fingers over it, “Does it still hurt?” 

Jake shifted his gaze from the TV to you, “Not as much as what it felt like when I thought you’d died.” 

You traced your fingers over his face, stopping at his lips, him kissing the pads of your fingers. 

“You won’t have to ever feel that feeling again,” you reassured him. 

Jake nodded, wrapping his arms around you, “I know. I won’t let anyone harm you again,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and softly chuckled, “I am proud of you for how you lured him in, his shyness and awkwardness might have all been fake and an act, but the way you reeled in him and played with his feelings? Those were so true. You should be an actor, for real.” 

You roll your eyes at him, “I want to be an investigative journalist, don’t have time for acting.”

Jake cupped your face and kissed you gently, “And you’ll make one hell of one too.” 

The kiss went from passionate and soft, to deep and hard. Jake pulled your and his clothes off until you were both bare and you straddled his lap, riding his cock and pinning his hands above his head against the armrest. Jake was a moaning and gasping mess as you continued to ride, letting you have full control. 

You smiled down at your serial killer, watching as his brows furrowed and eyes shut tightly when he came. 

Everything was perfect and how it should be.

— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez @jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @zeeloveshee

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[s3fka]

Resonance (Jiyan x Fem!Reader x Calcharo) : Chapter 3

Who would you choose in a world where love and duty collided, and where the heart's desires clashed with the demands of fate? The unspoken love of Jiyan, who has known you since childhood, or the fiery passion that Calcharo harbors for you despite the shadows of his past?

Chapter 1 : https://www.tumblr.com/s3fka/780595993139953664/resonance-jiyan-x-femreader-x-calcharo

Chapter 2 : https://www.tumblr.com/s3fka/780608114576769024/resonance-jiyan-x-femreader-x-calcharo-chapter-2

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Calcharo." Your gaze remained unwavering as you displayed no sign of fear in front of the ruthless Mercenary. "You know you're quite notorious in the Capital." You added, smirking, yet your eyes remained fixed on him.

"You haven't answered my question." Calcharo reiterated, pressing his blade against your throat, causing a trickle of blood to escape.

"I'm here to arrest you. Reports have reached the Capital alleging that your group is not only mistreating the innocent but also exploiting and killing them." You stated firmly, your piercing glare reflecting your anger towards him.

Calcharo tightened his grip on his blade, feeling a surge of indignation at the disrespect shown towards the tarnished reputation of the Ghost Hounds by these impostors. He shifted his gaze towards the fake Mercenaries, his expression unreadable, yet the intent to kill them was unmistakable.

"I've been tracking these imposters for days now, turning down high-paying contracts in the process. The trouble and disruption they've caused me are worth a year's fortune, and I won't let it go unpunished." he declared coldly, each word cutting through the air like a sharp blade.

He observed you carefully, he couldn't sense the slightest hint of deception coming from you. Calcharo wasn't an idealist, he readily admitted to doing immoral things, however, treating innocent civilians harshly was never a part of his strategy.

"You hear me, Officer?"

In response to your accusation, Calcharo scanned the fake Mercenaries again.

"These..." he paused, his hand tightening on the hilt of his blade, "...are not my men. They're just frauds seeking profit and fame."

He stepped back, his blade leaving a trail of blood on your neck. And at the same time, his eyes never withdrawing on the fake Mercenaries.

"Your information is outdated, and I'll ensure these rats meet their end accordingly."

He approached the closest of the imposters and, without missing a beat, slashed his neck, sending blood splattering across the place.

Calcharo fixed his gaze back on you, the fervor in his eyes had not diminished.

"My dealings with the innocent have always been... profitable for them. I'm sure you'd understand. Unless you're here to throw me in prison, I'm afraid I'm not going anywhere, Officer."

The tension was thick, and the smell of blood permeated the air. One could clearly hear the heartbeats of the fake Mercenaries, their fear now culminating in a frenzied desire to flee the situation.

But before the female bandit could make a move to escape, Calcharo grabbed her by the hair and swiftly plunged his blade into her stomach.

One by one, he ruthlessly killed all of them in front of you.

"Now, as I was saying." he lifted one blood-stained blade back towards you, "You've come to the wrong place. Your accusations are misguided. Correct me if I'm wrong, but the Capital wouldn't be dumb enough to send only one Officer to arrest me, would they?"

He glanced at the bodies laying on the ground, the sight of so much blood painted a gruesome yet satisfying portrait in his mind.

"If you're smart, you'd go back to Jinzhou and remedy your mistakes."

His voice resonated in the air brimmed with confidence and arrogance, a true pleasure of dominating such a situation.

"I hate it when someone points their filthy blade at me." You sarcastically exclaimed before deftly intercepting the attack aimed at his back. Calcharo's silver eyes widened as you swiftly defended him from an unforeseen blow. He briefly acknowledged your swiftness, impressed.

Now, both you and Calcharo found yourselves surrounded by a multitude of Tacet Discords. Having already used his Liberation skill on the Inferno Rider, the outcome of the situation now depended solely on your raw fighting abilities. You were uncertain how long you could endure the onslaught, leaving Calcharo with no option but to cooperate with you.

In that moment, you fought with him side by side, both of your movements harmonizing in perfect synchrony as though you had been battling together for an eternity.

You moved as if guided by an unseen force. Calcharo's blade trailed with lightning, while your flame effectively dispelled the shadows of the Tacet Discords. In the heat of battle, there was a brief moment when your blades clashed, a blaze and a glimmer that lit up the darkness. As the Tacet Discords swarmed around you, Calcharo's movements shifted to match yours, both of your fighting styles now mirroring each other, like a dance of death.

[Meanwhile, at Desorock Highlands...]

Jiyan was aiding the Rangers in distributing water and rations when he noticed your assistant conversing with a soldier at the field. Zhi Yu was seemingly looking for the General. Jiyan immediately made his way over to him, "Zhi Yu, what brought you here?" Jiyan asked, his eyes narrowing in concern. As Zhi Yu filled Jiyan in about your plan to capture the Ghost Hounds by yourself, Jiyan's eyes widened in shock. "What?! We should stop her before she reaches them!" Jiyan turned around, his eyes scanning his surroundings as he took a deep breath. "Qiang! Gather the remaining forces, we'll be on our way to pick up The Secretary of Justice and hunt down this Mercenary group alongside her."

Qiang saluted sharply, his armor glinting under the moonlight. "General, the remaining forces are assembled and ready for your orders. Two companies of the Vanguard, along with the Reserve Forces, have been equipped for heavy combat and are awaiting your command."

Jiyan nodded approvingly as he swiftly mounted his horse, "Well done, Lieutenant. We have no time to waste. Our destination is the Ghost Hounds' last known location. We must reach the Secretary of Justice before she engages with the Mercenaries alone. Lieutenant, have the scouts ride ahead and scout the path."

"At once, General!" Qiang saluted before galloping ahead, his horse's hooves pounding the ground as he rode to issue orders.

"What on earth is she thinking?" Jiyan furrowed his brows in confusion as he urged his steed to move forward.

[Port City Of Guixu]

You and Calcharo defended each other's backs against the Tacet Discord's attacks, disregarding the fact that both of you adhered to different codes. You upheld the law, while Calcharo lived as an outlaw.

As your blades slashed through a Tacet Discord, he couldn't help but comment, "Officer, you fight with the tenacity and spirit of a seasoned Mercenary." The compliment meant more than flattery, it was a tribute to your prowess.

"You've got guts to liken me to one of your kind. I am an Officer of the Law, not a ruthless Mercenary." You retorted, scoffing. Calcharo smirked in response, finding amusement in your words.

Suddenly, a Tacet Discord's shadowy blade aimed at Calcharo from the front, you intercepted the attack, your flames scorching the blade to ashes. Calcharo wasn't going to be outdone, an electric wall surrounded both of you in defense, sending multiple Tacet Discords to their demise. You and Calcharo's synergy was a sight to behold. It was a strange partnership, but it couldn't have been more harmonious under the moonlit sky.

Soon, the last Tacet Discord was unrecognizable, having been torn into pieces as the dreadful fight came to a halt, leaving both of you bathed in the scent of ash, sweat, and the remnants of monsters. The silence, though unsettling, opened up the opportunity to observe your surroundings.

Calcharo's silver orbs scanned yours with newfound respect, acknowledging the skill that you wielded. His voice echoed hollow as he broke the silence. "Impressive."

Though intended as flattery, you distrusted every word he spoke.

"So the rumors were true. The Leader of the Ghost Hounds is undeniably a formidable and merciless Resonator." You gazed at him, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to catch your breath.

"This is no rumor, Officer. I live and breathe the reputation I've built. The Ghost Hounds, fierce and unyielding in the face of adversities." Calcharo's chest swelled with pride as he spoke of his group. The Tacet Discords were merely a taste of what the Ghost Hounds could handle. You both stood face to face, your body still hummed from the battle, your eyes locked onto Calcharo, unyieldingly examining the man that stood before you. "I'll take my reward as I like. We're both aware that you couldn't subdue me or my men. And as for you, Officer. You fought well tonight." Calcharo never bragged, and flattery from him meant far more weight than a common Mercenary would ever give. 

As Calcharo sensed the approaching soldiers and horses a few miles away, he chose to conclude your conversation then and there. "It appears your reinforcements have arrived." he smirked, his gaze fixed on Ryou, causing confusion for you as you scanned the area without spotting anyone nearby. "This is where we part ways, Officer." he stated, sheathing his blade. "Perhaps our paths will cross again someday." Calcharo added, casting a last glance at you before vanishing into the shadows.

He left you there, speechless. Denying you the opportunity to utter a single word in response.

[A few minutes later...]

"Y/N!" Jiyan exclaimed as soon as he saw you standing in the midst of a desolated area, with four lifeless bodies strewn around you. "Are you alright?! What happened here?!" The General swiftly dismounted his horse and approached you. Jiyan sensed that a recent battle had taken place in the vicinity. He could still discern the lingering echoes of the Tacet Discord's presence that remained in the air.

"You're shaking." he prompted, waiting for you to reply as he gently squeezed your arm. You seemed momentarily lost in thoughts, but Jiyan's touch brought you back to reality, snapping you out of the trance. "J-Jiyan." you mumbled, only then realizing his presence. 

You wasted no time and immediately told Jiyan everything that happened.

"Why did you act on your own?! You were well aware of the danger posed by the Ghost Hounds. If your intention was to apprehend them, a more strategic approach was necessary." Jiyan reprimanded you, his frustration showing in his tone. He couldn't fathom why you would attempt to handle a situation like this on your own, especially knowing the risks.

"Jiyan, I believed immediate action was necessary. Whether they were the real Ghost Hounds or not, my concern is the safety of our citizens. So, please, don't give me that 'soldier' look." You glared at him, your brows knitted and arms crossed. You were perfectly aware of the consequences. "All I can say is, if you have the guts to do something about this Mercenary group, then I am more than ready to stand beside you to finish what you started. " Jiyan had the last say, only nodding at that.

You understood that Jiyan's sole concern was for your well-being. "Look at you! You're covered in cuts and bruises!" He exclaimed, taking your arm gently to inspect it.

"You should've asked for help. You weren't meant to face this alone. You know the risks, like I do." As he spoke, he carefully lifted up your top to inspect the wound he found on your back. After he made sure the wound wasn't life-threatening, he grabbed a healing pill from his pouch, popping one into your mouth. "Remember to stay on top of your health." he said, his voice deep with worry.

"I will not let this happen again. From now on, if you wish to take matters into your own hands, please include me in those plans." Jiyan carefully placed a plaster on your wound after disinfecting it.

"Okay." You acknowledged that it would be futile to debate with the General, yet as always, you remained resolute in following your decisions regardless of others' approval.

After securing the area and retrieving the bandits' corpses, Jiyan ordered everyone to regroup at their base in the Desorock Highlands.

"As for you, Madam Secretary, I will personally escort you back to Jinzhou to ensure your injuries are properly treated." Jiyan guided your horse as the rest of his army left the site.

End of Chapter 3

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

Trust Me -- Part 2

02/06/2021: Wow, uh, wow. This one got me. Almost started crying at the cheesy ending. I will cringe at it in precisely two months from now. Thank you guys SO much for all the positive feedback of PART 1, it really helped me finish this part. Without you guys, this would have been still sitting in my drafts. There's lowkey a bit of pressure in this actually being GOOD, so I'm sitting here with a bit of Imposter SyndromeTM and crossing everything I can cross that you guys like it. I can't tell whether I went overboard or not, though... I guess that's for you guys to tell me lmao.

Also, these commas can be pried from my very cold, extremely dead, fingers.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! For the first time in almost ever, I'm a bit very nervous to post this -- I hope you enjoy it!!

Tagging: @marshmallow--3 // @yourlocalfrenchie // @rahdaleigh // @sofiewithat /// @iceboundstar // @mythandmagik // @itseivwhore // @pink-polarfox // @missbenzayb // @ct-5445 // @timbreavery // @dacian-assassin // @thepalaceofmelanie // @asilverraven // @huntheimpossible // @eclectic--assassin // @thehistorynut19 // @ta-ka-shi-ma // @roki3chocoa // @fandomsfanman // @le-nottibianche // @bandit-brunsmeier // @starmoji1 // @spocktheestallion // @salty-thembo // @missingfrye // @xdeimos // If you want to be tagged, let me know!!

Warnings: Lots of swearing, a bit of graphic violence, implicit mention of sexual assault (I hope it's not a spoiler to say that this does not actually happen, but the idea is used as manipulation. It's not done well, but I'm blaming that on the character being a horrible liar, instead of me sucking at write arseholes), implied character death.

Pairing: Edward Kenway x F!Reader

Assassin's Creed Mobile Masterlist

Red Dead Redemption 2 Mobile Masterlist

The neighbouring ship was chaotic. The opponents were drunk on victory, so slipping through unnoticed was easy. The hard part was going to be staying undercover until you could free Edward and the rest of the crew without anyone falling casualty. “Strip them of their weapons and take them to the brig!” You heard the Quartermaster yell. Thinking quickly, you moved to Edward; if you knew where his weapons were, escaping could be much easier. People were already pulling out his pistols and cutlasses, fortunately dumping them in your arms. Looking around, you pulled away to hide them in an inconspicuous barrel for later.

You weren’t planning on staying long.

Quickly rejoining the group, you took hold of one of your crew members -- you recognised him as one named Jonah -- at the back of the crowd, keeping your face covered lest they accidentally reveal your identity. You kept your eye on Edward’s tense shoulders the entire time, heading below deck and to the rows of cells at the end of the ship.

As you gently pushed Jonah into the cell, someone slammed the door shut, chucking the ring of keys your way. “Lock ‘em up.” Swallowing, you nodded, feeling uncomfortable under their gaze while turning the key in the lock. Taking them out of your hands, a mop and bucket was shoved in its place. “You’re on cleaning duty, starting upstairs; let’s go.” With one last glance, your eyes scoured for Edward before they all disappeared from view.

----------

Edward

There was this crushing anxiety he just couldn’t shake. It rendered him almost motionless, crouched in the corner of the cell, picking at his sleeves. There was a commotion heading towards them; he was in for company he was not in the mood for.

Heavy footsteps gave away the visitor. “We searched your boat.” His crew parted to clear a view as Charles Marlowe relaxed against the cell bars. “We found your woman.”

Edward’s eyes snapped to Marlowe’s as he clenched his jaw, almost daring him to say more.

With a chuckle and a disgusting grin, he brought out a small knife to clean. “Don’t you want to know where she is?”

“I expect you’d would tell me regardless.”

“I would advise against winding me up, Kenway. I could always take my anger out on her instead.”

It took a second for Edward’s arms to fly through the bars, constricting around Marlowe’s throat. “What have you done with her?”

Although cold metal pressed against his jaw, he didn’t ease up.

“She’s waiting for me very nicely... in my cabin.”

Edward didn’t have to think very hard to infer his meaning.

“I’ll kill you if you touch her. I’ll kill you.” Growling, he held impossibly tighter, for if he was here, he wasn’t there.

“With your actions come consequences, Kenway. And you might not be the one paying for them.”

A dilemma came to mind: delay him to keep him away from you, or risk the consequences of his revenge?

Somewhat luckily, he didn’t need to choose.

Before Edward could comprehend that he loosened his grip, Marlowe slipped out of his grasp. The distraught Captain pressed himself against the bars, anger drenching his expression as he heaved out breaths. His captor laughed. “You’re very good at empty threats, Kenway.”

“It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.” His cold tone streaked through the crew, setting hairs on end. They had never heard their Captain like this before; so angry, so dangerous.

It terrified them.

“That remains to be seen. In the meantime…” With a mocking whistling tune, Marlowe spun on his heels and began to walk away.

“Come back here, bilge rat!” He pulled harshly against the cell door. “Don’t you dare touch her!”

“Then you better stay in line.”

As he disappeared from view, Edward’s emotions overwhelmed him, frustrated tears coming to his eyes. He turned to a solid wall, slamming the side of his fist against it and yelled.

Fear, anger, guilt, and grief echoed around the brig.

Collapsing against the wood, he hid his face in his hands, aiming to either calm himself or hide his inevitable breakdown.

----------

Y/N

“Finish up downstairs.” Nodding affirmatively, you picked up the mop bucket and eagerly headed beneath deck, having to consciously slow down to avoid suspicion. You were glad you were disguised in the uniform of Marlowe’s crew instead of the rags of the common sailors aboard; it would’ve made the job much harder than it had to be.

Keeping a level head, you walked past the cell holding your family and placed the mop bucket against the wall, scanning the deck.

Empty.

Sighing in relief, you realised that you were alone with your crew at last. As you pulled the covering off of your face, you shushed frantically, the cell almost erupting into cheers. You gestured for them to part, eyeing Edward, almost balled up in the corner of the cell. “Hey, Ed,” you whispered, watching as his head snapped up to you, eyes widening.

Scrambling up, he strode to the bars in a second, reaching through the gaps to hold you. “Thank Christ…” he exhaled in relief, bringing your forehead to his lips between the bars. You pulled away after a few moments, sharing relieved glances. “Are you hurt? Did they do anything to you?” he asked, eyes scanning you for any sign of injuries.

“No, no, I’m okay. Are you alright? Did we lose anyone?”

“I’m... fine; I haven’t done a head count yet.”

You didn’t reply, watching as Jonah came up to tap Edward on the shoulder. “Capt’n?”

He turned around, withdrawing his hands as Ryan came into view. “I can’t find my da’.” His voice was barely stable, cheeks stained with tear tracks. For a second, you both exchanged sorrowful glances.

Edward crouched down, ruffling his hair. “He’ll be around, lad. We just have to find him. Maybe he’s escaped and is planning his own rescue mission for us.”

Ryan nodded, wanting to believe him. Meanwhile, Edward stood and brought Jonah close, leaning to whisper in his ear. He withdrew, a willing but uncertain look on his face. Both retreated back into the small crowd.

“What did you tell him?” you asked.

“...That he has to look after Ryan now.”

You squeezed your eyes shut to stave off tears. “Shit.”

His fingers gently grazed your cheek. “Are you sure you’re alright? Does Marlowe know you’re here?”

Frowning, you shook your head. “I wouldn’t have thought so; if he did, I’d be stuck in there with you.”

His expression was nearly unreadable, but you could sense his anxiety. “I saw him come from here a few moments ago. What was he saying?”

“He…” Pausing for a moment, Edward swallowed. “Just Templar bullshit.”

You scoffed at the notion. “Of course he did. Look, I know how to get out of this.”

“I’ll take anything at this point.” Although his tone was sarcastic, you could tell that for the first time, he didn’t know what to do.

“He needs to die.”

Edward froze, brows narrowing, realising your intention. “No, Y/N, no.”

“‘No’ was an option in Nassau, but we don’t have that choice--”

“No, there must be another way -- “

“There is no other way! This is our only chance--”

“Are you hearing me?! He--”

“Do you understand the situation we’re in?!”

“No, Y/N, please--”

“All it takes is--”

“Just LISTEN to me!” He hissed through gritted teeth, grasping your arm to give it a sharp shake to stop you talking over him. The shock threw you into silence. Lowering his voice, he continued. “If you make so much as one mistake, he won’t just kill you; he’ll make you wish you were dead. Please, please, don’t do this.”

You were stunned. You’ve never seen him so adamant about staying your blade. The desperation in his tone threw you off; you’ve never heard him this serious -- this frantic -- before.

Edward grabbed one of your hands in both of his, bringing your knuckles to rest against his lips. “I love you… with everything I have; I can’t lose you. Not if I can help it,” he murmured, closing his eyes. Your heart broke as you watched a tear escape, trailing down his skin.

“Okay, okay.” You rarely saw Edward cry, and when you did, it was usually due to either drinking or laughing. He took a small, shuddering breath, trying to compose himself.

“We wait for Adé. Then we’ll think about Marlowe.”

“Alright, okay. Hey...” you caressed his jaw. “I’m okay. We’ll be okay. Trust me.”

You heard ruckus above the deck. “Someone’s coming.” Both of you broke away like shrapnel, Edward sitting himself on the floor while you mopped, facing the wall.

And that was how things were.

----------

A couple of weeks had passed since the crew was abducted from the Jackdaw. Everyone had been forced to labour on the deck, doing various jobs, from scrubbing floors to adjusting sails to everything in between. Adé was nowhere to be seen; whether he was hidden on deck and still strategising, or God forbid, something worse, you didn’t know.

A few didn’t make it.

Keeping your identity hidden was becoming increasingly difficult as time went on, of both being a woman and lover of the imprisoned Captain. You had, however, been able to gather intel of Marlowe from the crew that despised him. Each day further validated your belief that this man would be much better off dead; the crew have no loyalty except out of fear, and you could work with that.

You understood Edward’s fear, but it would be selfish of you to stand back and not do anything, watching as almost everyone on the ship suffered; if you did nothing, you would regret it for the rest of your days.

One particular morning was extremely hot, extremely dry, and extremely labour intensive. You were almost halfway through your journey, and you knew you were running out of time. Something had to happen, and soon, or you would never make it to the end of the year.

----------

Edward

After the first week, the crew joined the common sailors around the ship, performing average labour over hours. There was barely time to rest, eat, or drink; he could tell that this was wearing him down more than any form of torture.

The sun’s rays beat down on the nape of his neck as midday approached. Orders were to scrub the floor. He had a brush in his hand the size of a polishing brush, sharing a bucket with four other members of his crew. Each time he made eye contact with one of them, he’d give them a reassuring look; they’d all get out of this, he just needed a plan.

Doors were haphazardly flung open, Marlowe revealing himself from his cabin, followed by an entourage of his closest crew. They clumsily made their way across the ship, bumping into those scrubbing the deck, only to send them a look as if it was their fault in the first place.

One of them knocked over a bucket of water, spilling the liquid across the wood. Edward looked up to observe the situation. It belonged to his crew, including Jonah and Ryan. Marlowe stopped, his stare set on the ones kneeling, completely ignoring the real culprit. “You.” He crooked his finger towards Ryan. “Get up.”

With a petrified look on his face, Ryan stumbled to his feet, shaking like a leaf. “It wasn’t--”

Marlowe put his hand up, a warning to shut up. “It was your bucket, was it not?”

“Y-Yes, but--”

“So it was your responsibility, correct?”

“W-Well--”

“It’s a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question, boy.”

“... Yes, sir.”

Marlowe turned to call to his second in command. “Get the cat.”

Edward’s heart stopped. By now, the ship had dropped to complete silence. They wouldn’t… he was only a boy. Marlowe was sadistic, but he wouldn’t be that evil, would he?

Before he could stop himself, Edward found himself standing protectively in front of Ryan. The child gripped onto his sleeve as he was pushed behind his Captain by the arm. “Why don’t you give a punishment to someone who deserves it?”

Marlowe held a neutral expression. “You’re right…” With a wave of his hand, arms snaked themselves around Edward’s, pulling him away from the others, restraining his movements.

Edward’s eyes flitted to Ryan for a split second; he was pulled to sit beside Jonah before he gained any more unwanted attention. Marlowe came to stand in front of him, unpinning his cape from around his shoulders. It fell into someone’s arms, who carried it away. Although his limbs were pulled harshly behind him, he held his head high, a hard expression in his eyes.

Undoing his cuffs, Marlowe smirked. “I believe you deserve twenty, in place of that boy…” Without warning, a fist came into contact with Edward’s sternum. If it weren’t for the arms holding him upright, the force would have sent his knees buckling. As he regained his breath, he glared at Marlowe. “Another twenty is in order for disobedience…” Another strike winded him again, this one seemingly worse than before. Keeled over, hair blocking his vision, he almost didn’t notice Marlowe leaning into his ear. “Then, about as many as I deem fit…”

Standing up straight, he shook out his hand. “Get him ready.”

Edward stumbled as he was half-dragged across the deck to the main mast. His chest and face collided with the post, the wood almost burning his skin. His arms were pulled taut above his head, rope quickly entwining itself around his wrists. He gave them an experimental tug, his heart skipping a beat when he found not even an inch of give.

Oh, fuck.

Hands gripped the back of his shirt, swiftly tearing it open. His muscles tensed as the sunlight hit his skin. Closing his eyes, he steeled himself with a breath.

The first strike licked his skin, the force shoving him against the post, ripping open stripes of flesh. Pain shot across his back. Biting a back a groan, Edward clenched his jaw. Sweat trailed down his temples, arms straining against the ropes.

Resting his forehead against the post, he prepared for the next lash.

But the strike never came.

----------

Y/N

Ooh, boy.

You were shocked at yourself for a moment, your hand firmly wrapped around Marlowe’s extended wrist, the cat of nine tails trickling Edward’s blood onto the back of your hand.

“I demand satisfaction.”

Gasps and muttering littered the crowd, and you kept to yourself the true realisation of what you’ve done.

You’ve challenged Marlowe to a duel.

“Don’t…” Edward looked over his shoulder, voice loud enough for only you to hear.

You spared him a side glance, urging him to quiet down.

Instead of the expected anger, Marlowe chuckled. “Alright; who demands it?”

You pulled off your face covering and hat, the sun hitting the skin on your face fully for the first time in two weeks. “Naturally, me.”

He hummed darkly, eyes narrowing with recognition. “Naturally.” He began to unsheathe his sword.

“I thought you were a man of tradition; are pistols not your forte?” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him.

After a prolonged glance, metal clicked back into its leather hold. “You really don’t know what you’re getting into, my dear.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“... Let’s get this over with.”

Your heart pounded. This was such a stupid move.

But it was also your only move.

Hiding your own fear, you held eye contact with Marlowe. With trembling fingers, you drew your own pistol, gifted to you by Edward from your last birthday. It was very much your lucky charm, and you hoped it wouldn’t fail you now.

“Ten paces, on my count.” You had no idea who the voice belonged to, nor did you have the current emotional capacity to care. Pulling the hammer down on your pistol, you turned your back to Marlowe. A blank was fired, the echoing shot a signal to start moving.

1…

2…

3...

It was almost deadly quiet.

4…

5…

6…

This was stupid, this was a bad idea. You won’t make it.

7…

8--

An unexpected shot rang out. You dropped to the floor, a pain beginning to blossom in your side.

“NO!”

Marlowe had cheated. Internally, you scoffed. Of course he did.

Although it stung, you were surprised at how bearable the pain was, given you just got shot.

Or did you?

You lay still, partly in shock and partly to plan what to do next.

“What are you all looking at? Get back to work!”

“Y/N? Y/N/N!” You heard Edward’s voice crack. “You cheating bastard!”

“Now, now, Kenway. Don’t forget the position you’re in.”

Floorboards creaked as someone approached. Pistol miraculously still in hand, you waited for as long as possible. Just a little longer....

A shadow shaded your face from the sun. Without thinking, you turned, aimed, and shot.

Marlowe stared back, glassy eyed, blood trickling down his nose.

A moment later, he collapsed.

No one dared to move, choosing to stare at the body in front of them, not quite believing that he was dead.

The monster of a man was dead.

After the adrenaline ebbed away, you sighed heavily. “Glad that’s over.” A hand came into view, offering assistance to stand up. You locked eyes with someone who should have made himself known a long time ago. “Adé!” Accepting the help, you smirked. “Great timing.”

You quickly moved to Edward to begin untying the knots around his wrists. “What the fuck were you thinking?!” he exclaimed, exertion clear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for worrying you--”

“Worrying me?” One wrist freed, he deftly moved to the other. “When I saw you lying there, I felt as if I had died!”

You sighed. “I needed to do something, lest you became more bone than back.”

“That was the most stupid plan I’ve ever seen in my life.” His hands free, he paid no heed to his own wounds and immediately tried to inspect yours. “You were so irresponsible--”

Bringing his face to yours, you stopped him talking with a kiss.

He diffused immediately, finally processing that you were in front of him, alive, and Marlowe was the one dead on the floor. Melting into you, the tension in his muscles dissipated, replaced only with relief. He broke apart from you, burying his face in your neck, his arms wrapped around you tightly.

“If the plan worked, it couldn’t have been that stupid,” you remarked.

“I’m so sorry.” His words were mumbled into your shoulder.

“You were looking out for me; I would have done the same if the roles were reversed.” You hugged him back, recoiling when he suddenly flinched in pain. “Oh, God, I’m sorry.”

“Shall we just accept each other’s apologies and call it a day?”

You laughed. “That would be good.”

Turning to the hands on deck, you raised your pistol in the air. “It’s over, lads! We can go home!”

You held your side, the pain greatly subsided under the amount of other emotions you were feeling; joy, relief, but also grief. Not for Marlowe, but for the ones that didn’t see this day.

You made a vow there and then; a vow to live your life the way they would have lived.

With joyful, carefree fun.

With the ability to live in the moment.

With gratitude for what you still have that they lost: For some, love, and for others, life.

[loruleanheart]

Desired Fate, Chapter 5

Read on ff.net

Read on AO3

“Kill her...” 

Zelda’s heart plummeted as the full weight of his words hit her, her world falling and crashing into a million pieces.

No! Wait...! She moved her mouth to protest, but no words came forth.

Zelda tried to take a step back only to find her legs were like lead. She tripped backward, falling into the shallow water. 

The Champion imposters crowded her with swift precision, following their master’s order without hesitation. The dark Urbosa raised her scimitar. Zelda braced herself, squeezing her eyes shut. There was no one to save her. But even worse, she felt too numb to care.

And just as she resigned herself to this harsh fate, a blinding flash engulfed the forest, and the expected killing blow never came.

Zelda shielded her eyes, peeking out from between her fingers to see the Hollows writhing as they faded away. 

Was that.... the spirit that lives within the sword....?

She shakily breathed out and looked around, the hooded man was looking at her with a shocked expression. 

He turned to look at the sword, startled, “What?!”

Zelda was only vaguely aware as Link and the little Guardian came to her side, her knight having tracked her down with the little one in tow.

“Link?”

The knight offered her a hand. 

“I’m… alright.” Zelda got to her feet on her own. The back of her pants was soaked from falling into the water. She grimaced in discomfort.

As Zelda stood, Link drew his sword and rushed at the hooded man, giving a shout.

“Link! Wait!”

“I won’t allow you to take that sword, boy.” The wizard threatened. Link cast a glance at the sword on the pedestal, still glowing as if beckoning for him to claim it. He tried to make his way to it, but it was clear the hooded man was intent on stopping him.

Zelda stood back, stunned. Link is... the hero?

The hooded wizard levitated the orb between his hands, summoning malice to rain down on the knight. Link ran to dodge it. The mysterious man countered, levitating himself as if being raised by some invisible force. He brought his knees to his chest, becoming one with the orb. The ball of energy rushed at the knight. Link flew through the air, landing hard on the dais. As the boy stirred he turned his head to see his standard-issue knight’s sword had been broken in two. Wasting no time, he got to his feet and pulled the sacred blade from its pedestal.

The hooded man sneered at the knight, backpedaling a few steps in hesitation before jumping back into the orb and flying at Link once again, in a rage. This time Link swung the sacred blade at the right moment, shattering the illusion. The wizard fell to the ground. The orb went back to its original size and shape and landed some feet away. The hooded man reached for it, but Link quickly kicked it further away and held him at sword point.

“You can’t kill me. I am fated to revive Calamity Ganon. My purpose isn’t complete.” There was a slight waver in his voice, that stirred something in Zelda.

She rushed to the Link’s side who was standing over the strange man.

“Who are you?” The Princess demanded.

“Well if you must know... Your Highness,” the man said coldly, “I am Astor, prophet of the Calamity. Lord Ganon selected me to bring this world to its knees,” he said defiantly.

Astor… His name is Astor… Zelda’s eyes met with his. His sharp yellow eyes were looking at her with disdain, but there was something else she saw. There was true terror in the man’s gaze, despite the coldness his voice projected. 

Link held the edge of the sacred blade to Astor’s throat, threatening to apply dangerous pressure.

“Link, wait! No more... Please…” Zelda searched for an excuse not wanting to see a beheading right before her eyes. “H-he could be a valuable source of information on the Calamity if we take him alive.”

Link looked at her as if studying her expression. Her knight was unreadable to her and he said nothing in return. Zelda prayed she had come off as convincing enough. As the princess, she did have a sort of authority over him, and he was obligated to follow her orders, after all. So he didn’t protest.

As the knight was distracted, the prophet bolted upright and shoved past him, grabbing his fallen orb. Link moved to guard Zelda. The dome went up again, this time a hollow version of the hero emerged. 

Astor glanced at Zelda, who was looking back at him over the boy’s shoulder. The two shared another long gaze. A conflicted expression crossed his pallid features. He hesitated and then pointed to the small Guardian which was some distance from Link and Zelda. “Destroy the Guardian!”

Zelda gave a small gasp, but before she could act, the manifestation of Link made fast work of the little Guardian, leaving it in pieces. Link moved to take down his copy, skillfully dispatching the Hollow with little effort, mercifully bringing an end to his doppleganger’s empty existence. The Hollow disappeared in a puff of red malice.

When Zelda looked back, Astor was gone. Zelda collected herself and breathed out in frustration as she approached the broken down Guardian, surveying the damage. Sure, It may have technically been a piece of artificial intelligence, but she’d begun to see it almost like a friend, having ascertained it had come from the future to protect her. It truly was her guardian. But what would become of her now? Without her sealing power did she still have a chance to stop the Calamity? She hung her head and shed a single tear.

There was a long moment of silence between the princess and the knight. She couldn’t read his expression, leaving her wondering what he was thinking - or worse what he thought of her. She held everything back, trying to project the same unreadable expression. It was the lowest she’d ever felt.

The silence was broken when the Champions found them. 

“Zelda?” Urbosa came forward, seeing the broken Guardian at her feet. “Why would you wander away from the group? Are you hurt?”

“No, Urbosa. I’m… alright…” Said Zelda, still numb.

Urbosa looked down at the Guardian. “Oh my...” Urbosa sighed. “What should we do about this?” 

Zelda thought for a moment. “.... Perhaps Robbie can repair it.”

“Ok Champions. You heard your Princess. Everyone help carry as many pieces as you can.” Urbosa said as a way to lighten the somber mood.

Everyone complied and no one complained. Not even Revali.

Zelda collected a few small screws and gears, putting them in her pouch connected to her belt.

oOo

They were on their way back to Hyrule Castle. Zelda sighed as she shielded her eyes from the setting sun. A few paces ahead of her was Link, Master Sword at his back.

Already Link has gone from an ordinary knight to the one destined to wield the sword that seals the darkness. Yet, I’m still in the same rut I’ve been in all my life. And now… It’s like I’ve got a target on my back because of this cursed power I can’t even use.

In her mind’s eye, the moment replays again and again. “Kill her.” His voice had been so dark, so cold, and so full of hate.

I’m such a fool… His image must have appeared on the Sheikah Slate as a warning, and I...

She felt tears threatening to break forth. She raised her hand to her face. And then she felt everyone’s gaze on her.

She stopped in her tracks, and her voice wavered as she spoke. “How can I… If I am unable to awaken my inner power…” 

Urbosa came to Zelda’s side with concern in her eyes. “Okay everyone, let’s take a break.”

Everyone broke off and began to congregate in small groups. Urbosa pulled Zelda aside.

Zelda took a deep breath. “Link… He’s become so much stronger.” That was just the beginning of her troubles. Urbosa didn’t need to know anything beyond the obvious.

Urbosa smiled knowingly, “And yet, I have not. I presume that’s what you were thinking, hm?”

Zelda nodded. “More and more monsters have been appearing lately. It is a sign that the Calamity draws near. So there isn’t much time. And still, no sign of my power awakening…”

“Yes, I understand your frustration, but perhaps it is self-defeating to compare your progress to Link’s.” Urbosa turned her attention to the young knight, who was some distance from them being showered with praise by Daruk and some Hylian soldiers. “He… is the same boy he was before acquiring that sword.”

One of the soldiers held a plate of rocks. Link took a rock in each hand and wolfed them down without a second thought.

Urbosa gave an unsurprised cluck of her tongue. “He will rise to... any challenge with no hesitation. That’s all there is to it.”

Daruk laughed. “Well done, Little guy. Eat up!”

Zelda grimaced, feeling queasy.

Urbosa smiled at Zelda. “But I know that you too are capable of rising to any challenge. Look how hard you’ve worked to get this far.”

“But I’ve been trying all these years, and nothings changed….”

Urbosa went quiet for a moment, looking more saddened. “I know, little bird. I was there… I haven’t forgotten all your struggles. But I have faith that you are where you need to be and everything will unfold as it is meant to. You must accept that too.”

“But it isn’t… It isn’t in the slightest...” Zelda was reeling. Everything felt out of sorts and very wrong. “Excuse me, Urbosa….”

Before Urbosa could protest, Zelda walked away as fast as she could. It was all too much to bear. Her head was spinning. She was about to lose control of all her anxieties and distress she’d been holding back. She broke into a run, and as soon as she was out of sight she vomited.

oOo

“Is that the Sacred Blade I see?” King Rhoam stood up from his throne on the second floor of the sanctum.  “Link, I’m very pleased it was you. Now I have divine confirmation that I made the right decision in choosing you as Zelda’s knight.” The king looked so pleasantly surprised he mercifully didn’t seem to notice Zelda’s disheveled state.

But Impa did.

“Your Highness…” Impa rushed to the Princess. Urbosa held a comforting hand to Zelda’s shoulder as she gave a nod to Impa.

“I’m fine, Impa. I just got a bit ill on the way back.”

“Thank you, Champions. You have done your duty well, and as a result, Hyrule’s hero has been discovered… There is only one last thing required to oppose the Calamity.” Rhoam looked to his daughter.  “Oh… Where is that little Guardian? It’s usually always at your side.” Rhoam asked, which threw Zelda. He really was in an exceptionally good mood.

“Broken… Regretfully...”

“Ah… That’s unfortunate...” King Rhoam offered. His voice was not unkind. He even sounded a little disappointed and she wondered why.

“I’ll take it to Robbie and Purah first thing tomorrow for repair,” Zelda said, numb. Impa gave her a much needed gentle push towards her chambers.

“Link, Champions, I’d like you to join us for a celebratory dinner.” King Rhoam continued.

Zelda headed to her bedchamber, taking care of her disheveled state. She washed her face, undid her braid, and brushed her hair, before changing into her royal gown, one of her waiting maids stepping in to assist her in tying and lacing up areas that required an extra set of hands. The dress was exquisite, but truth be told, it limited her range of movement.

Zelda took her seat in the dining hall at a long table opposite her father. Link was to her left and seemed to acclimate to the formal setting quite well despite eating rocks with reckless abandon just a short time before. Impa was seated to her right. The Champions were further down the table, closer to Rhoam who exchanged pleasantries with the Champions. Daruk, Revali, and Urbosa dominated much of the conversation. Mipha was more reserved.

“You know, Mipha was just tellin’ me the other day how she believed Link would be the one who could wield the sword,” Daruk mused out loud to the whole table.

Mipha looked flustered, but then the Zora princess composed herself and said sweetly, “Daruk, I told you that in confidence.”

Daruk laughed. “Oh… Sorry. And yet, you were right. You should own it!”

“Is it my understanding that you and Link have been friends since childhood?” Rhoam asked, trying to make polite conversation.

Mipha stiffened at the King’s question. “Yes, that’s correct.” She smiled serenely at Link. The boy looked up from his meal, acknowledging the zora princess.

“It has been such a pleasure to have you join us for another meal after all these years, Chief Urbosa. It is deeply unfortunate that the queen could not be here to see this day.”

“Indeed… I think of her every day,” Urbosa replied. “Zelda looks so much like her. Now more than ever. The queen was about the same age Zelda is now when we first became friends.” Urbosa glanced across the table at Zelda, giving her a reassuring smile.

“Zelda, that’s your favorite cake and you’ve barely touched it,” said Impa, the royal aide showing concern in her voice.

It was true, she’d been kind of picking over it with her fork. “I’m quite full already…”

“It’s just unlike you to turn down fruit cake.”

“I can’t take another bite. I might get sick again…”

“Okay. Okay. Say no more.”

The dinner was winding down, and King Rhoam spoke in an official tone. “ We will hold a ceremony to honor the Champions in three days. Zelda, it will be your duty to handcraft the sacred blue garments for each of the Champions, including a tunic for Link.

Zelda closed her eyes, holding back a sigh. She replied dutifully. “Yes, Father. I’ll get started on them right away.”

[kickingitwithkirk]

A Kiss Upon Your Shoulder

Pairing: Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Trouble Lacroix (OFC)

WC:3536

Warnings: 18 + only: kissing, humping M/F, intercourse, cursing, mention of addiction, angst

A/N: For @saxxxology #saxxxology vol.1 writing challenge

SONG PROMPT: Off My Mind-my favorite on the album

A/N: Set season 14 during Dean Winchester's possession by Apocalypse World's Micheal. Timeline extended and some events altered from series. I borrowed title from song lyrics.

*no beta- all mistakes are mine.

*GIF not mine

The sound of the bunker door closing reverberates through the room.

Several of the hunters around the map table stop what they're doing to watch an unusually tall Omega with long, smoky pink hair braided in a loose plait and wearing hunters garb descend the metal staircase halting at its bottom.

Sam Winchester is sitting at the far end of the table alternating between his phone receiving updates from hunters out in the field and the laptop looking for clues in the search for Dean while strategizing with Mary and Bobby their next move froze disbelieving his eyes.

“Sammy,” the Omega hesitantly says, her lightly accented voice startles him out of his stupor.

Batten down the hatches Sammy boy, Trouble just done walked back into my life… Dean used those exact words years ago introducing him to this Omega, never knowing how true they would turn out to be.

But not for him.

Sam's eyes shift into a fiery glow as his inner Alphas outrage surfaces at this imposter trying to pass itself as his long gone Omega.

“What fucking game are you playing at?” Sam gets up growling, stalking towards her pulling his demon blade.

“Sam wait!” Mary hollers at her youngest son knowing all too well the damage Sam can inflict under normal circumstances but in the state of extreme stress he’s currently under doesn’t want him to do anything he’ll regret.

The Apocalypse World hunters glance at each other perplexed having never before seeing an enraged Alpha, unsure what they should do.

After their arrival to this reality Sam gave them a crash course on life here, including the multiple genders of humans, Alpha/Beta/Omega, their confusing hierarchies and how they relate to each other.

The Alpha/Omega intricacies and nuances were still hard for them to comprehend since all of them were Betas.

The Omega cast her eyes down in deference to the large Alpha. “I'm here abo...” she doesn't finish speaking as he wraps his hand around her throat, slamming her back against a support column. She seizes his wrist as her eyes snap up meeting his glaring back before tilting her head as far as she can to the right exposing more of her throat.

Sam cautiously leans in, running his nose along her neck. The unique scent of winter, perceptible only to the Alpha under the scent blockers she’s used triggers memories he’s diligently repressed to keep this Omega off his mind come flooding back. The blade clatters loudly on the floor in the now silent room.

Wrapping his arms around her nuzzling into the curve of her neck he sucks on that spot he knows drives her crazy. Biting her lip she tangles her fingers in his long hair drawing him back up, running her tongue over his lips seeking entrance that he grants swirling his tongue around hers.

Someone's wolf whistling snaps them out of acting couple newly presented teens caught by their parents being very naughty.

“Hmm, not sorry,” she whispers nibbling on Sam’s ear making him quiver.

“Behave,” Sam mutters back taking a deep breath and subtlety adjusting himself before turning around to deal with everyone's reactions, not really ready to answer the inevitable questions.

Scenting his anxiety she twines their hands together offering a reassuring squeeze.

They’ve drawn quite a large audience from the library and adjoining hallways. People are elbowing each other grinning, whispering among themselves about their Chiefs and strange woman's reactions to each other then necking in front of everyone.

Mary stands there, arms crossed with the patented mom’s not amused look.

Sam huffs out an embarrassed laugh. “Everyone this is Trouble Lacroix, she’s my...she's an old friend.”

“I’m just an old friend after everything I went through for you?” Trouble snaps and Sam growls a warning at her tone but fuck it, she was right.

When Dean introduced them they were both junkies. Sam drugs of choice were demon blood and the power it gave him. Trouble’s was whatever made her forget her hunter fathers dominance over her as an Omega.

By the time they both got clean Sam found he could love again and she had learned to trust the Alpha in him wouldn't hurt her like others had. Sam swore during his next rut he would claim her as his Omega.

A week before he said yes to Lucifer and the subsequent showdown at Stull Cemetery he went into rut.

At their secret rendezvous, an old hunters cabin in Arkansas with his rut over Sam hadn’t claimed her, saying he couldn’t damn her, that this was his last chance to, unlike Jess, save her from certain death.

Trouble stood at the cabins window overlooking a small lake silently crying, unable to respond. The Alpha scented her sadness wanted nothing more than to comfort his Omega but all he could do was to kiss her shoulder, as he’d always done before leaving that last time.

Almost a decade later Sam can see the damage his refusals done in her sorrowful eyes.

“You kiss all your old friends like that?” Bobby quipped sarcastically eliciting a few laughs and breaking some of the tension.

“You look like Bobby Singer but you...resonate all wrong,” Trouble remarks as her light colored eyes surveys the others in the room finally coming to rest on Jack. “A Nephilim without Grace?”

“Yes, he is,” Mary answers crossing over to stand next to Jack, “how can you know that?”

Trouble shrugs “I’ve always been able to perceive things that are outside the normal spectrum.”

“You can what?” Maggie asks confused.

“The Omega can see that you’re out of tune with this reality,” Castiel states tipping his head to the side studying her, “she also possess other abilities.”

“I don’t need them to see your a dick.”

“Trouble,” Sam warns knowing she’d picked that up from Dean.

“Sorry, Angel of the Lord.” She half ass apologizes.

“And you suddenly show up here out of nowhere because?” Mary tersely inquires in her Alpha voice. Sam bristles unhappy that another Alpha, even his own mother, thinks they can question the Omega.

Releasing Sam’s hand she steps closer to Mary taking the same stance staring her straight in the eye. “I’ve seen Dean.”

Trouble tells them everything about her encounter with Dean in Nova Scotia, where she’s been the last two months.

They question is why he let her live when he’s killed others he has had contact with, another piece in a puzzle not making sense.

Sam asks her to stay but she turns him down, telling him it's safer for her to keep moving. He counters what better place is there for protection than in the heavily warded bunker?

She reluctantly agrees but only until Dean returns.

Mary makes it vehemently clear it’s problematic having an unclaimed Omega stay.

Sam reminds his mother that he is a mature Alpha, been making his own decisions without her input his whole life and with the daily suppressants he’s taken for years can control his instincts.

That got Mary’s back up, ready to argue with her youngest son, reminding him the Omegas already made the unmated Alpha act out. Bobby pulls her to the side and somehow he convinces her that the Omegas will be an assist in finding Dean. She doesn’t like but relents. Trouble is to stay in Dean's room, his Beta scent will help cover hers more to mollify Sam and a physical space between them for Mary.

Sam's frustrations over having not found Dean yet and his personal anxieties were intermittently fluctuating. The stresses he’s under, hardly eating, barely sleeping a couple hours a day while keeping track of people out on cases and figuring out how to help Jack adapt to not having his powers. Then there’s Nick, the mere mention of his name makes Sam shudder, let alone the traumatic physical and emotional memories dredged up by their face to face interactions.

Thankfully, there hadn’t been any real drama between Mary and Trouble. They’ve avoided each other as much as possible in the bunker.

It was really late or early, depending on how one looked at it, and Sam was still setting in the quiet library, waiting for the last couple of hunters to check in. “Sam, you’ve been here for hours, go to bed.” Trouble softly remarks as she walks up behind him gently running her fingers through his hair.

Sam closes his eyes enjoying her touch. “Just waiting on Maggie and Sharon to check in then I'll go.”

She snorts snagging his phone when it sounds, “Who you lying to? OK, their at the one star for the night. Everyone's accounted for.” Sam reaches for his phone and she dodges typing before handing it back and walking off.

“Cas is what...the hell that’s happening!” Sam gets up going after her.

“Bobby’s idea so go bitch to him mister ‘cause technically your off duty for the next twenty-four hours.” Trouble says unintimidated with him following her fuming, “Your exhausted Sam, you need a break so quit fighting and let us help.”

She stops at the shower-room door. “First, go bathe, you reek Alpha, then meet me in your room.” Sam goes from pissed off to aroused in three seconds. Trouble scents him, “Yeah right, it’s Netflix and chill...” She remarks them gives him a mischievous grin sashaying off.

Sam had been making courting overtures towards her, even though they were on a time limit, hoping he'd be awake long enough to make the most of this opportunity.

After the much needed shower Sam heads to his room in nothing but a low slung towel tosses it with his clothes into the dirty laundry hamper. Trouble came in carrying a tray of food locking the door behind her stops, inhaling sharply at the view of a completely naked Sam. He shivers as her eyes rove over him.

Sam’s not as bulked up as he was a decade ago, a leaner version still possessing a well defined upper body leading down to his flat stomach, the sharp v of his hips and those long legs. And between those legs...Swallowing hard and flushed Trouble moves setting the tray down on his bedside table as he hastily pulls on sweats and a grey t-shirt.

“Your three episodes behind in that series, figured you might want to watch it.” Trouble says grabbing his laptop and crawling onto his bed pulling up what he had been watching. “Have you seen it?” He asks sitting next to her.

“No, first your gonna eat,’ she gestures towards the tray with tomato rice soup, crackers and fruit, “then you can catch me up.”

By episode three Sam had eaten everything on the tray, brushed his teeth and was sacked out. Trouble shut the laptop down and placed it on the desk.

Turning out all the lights but a bedside one she slips back in next to Sam picking up the book she brought from the library. She’d been reading for awhile when Sam rolls over in his sleep, one leg landing between hers, arm draped across her waist and his head on her shoulder nuzzling into her neck murmuring, “back in my bed.”

As consciousness slowly filtered through the haze of extended sleep two things simultaneously get Sam’s attention, the cool scent of the Omega he’s spooning and his morning wood trapped between them.

“Must’a been a good dream,” Trouble yawns rolling onto her stomach, the sheet sliding down reliving her long legs and lower cheeks peeking out under her oversized T-shirt burying her head in the pillow mumbling “I was gonna leave after you fell asleep.”

Running a hand up the back of her thighs he pushes till she parts her legs far enough for him to touch her outer folds feeling how wet she already is before slipping two fingers into her tight channel. Trouble moans as he them slides deeper, making her wriggle against the mattress seeking friction against her clit. Sam crawls over wedging a knee between hers.

“Sam..we..sho..shouldn’t.”

Pulling his fingers out Sam moves straddling her legs, pinning them closed as he sits on her thighs stroking himself, using her slick as lubricant. Grasping her hips he starts rutting his cock between her ass cheeks.

Grunting, Sam shifts picks up momentum and with her under him, even like this, knows he’s not gonna last long. “Fuc..fuck Trouble..gonna cum…” Sam jerks back fisting his cock rapidly, cumming on her before falling forward and catches himself with one hand next to her, breathing hard. With his other hand Sam runs his fingers through his spending's rubbing it across her back.

Trouble pushes up onto her elbows looking back at him, “Dude, are you scent marking me?”

“Maybe.” Sam replies with a smug smile.

“So gross, Alpha.”

Sam was beyond frustrated and feeling sick on his drive back from Atlanta. The rumored sighting of Dean end up being a bust, another one of those crazies he’s sick of wasting his time chasing. Switching off the radio that's making his headache pound harder making him wish he was home already.

Trouble, utilizing her abilities, was able to help eliminate some of bogus reports. Unfortunately, when any of them got to close, Dean disappeared.

The last time she had him, he created some kind of feedback knocking her unconscious. Cas checked her over, telling Sam she would be fine.

When she woke up Trouble tells them she’s seeing Dean doing strange experimentation on different types of monsters using Archangel Grace and it scares the hell out of her.

That was Sam’s breaking point. He stormed through the bunker in full Alpha mode from the infirmary to Deans room, packed her duffel and hauled it to his room. Even Mary knew better than to get in his way this time.

Sam couldn’t get her off his mind anymore now he had her back in his bed. She allowed him hold her whenever they slept together but wouldn’t permit anything else since that morning.

The Lebanon City Limits sign was a welcome sight. Sam was sweating, shaky and just wanting to get home.

He arrived at the bunker wondering what the hell he had caught. Mary greeted him with a hug and frowned catching his scent. Sam played it off, saying the Beta who had one too many hits of the brown acid was ill and he must have caught it.

Another hunter handed him a bowl of soup and bad news about some gypsy vamps attaching truckers. He had them set up checkpoints and sat down to hack the traffic cams. Mary gripped his arm concerned as he’s typing but he says he‘s good. She didn't believe him but doesn’t push knowing he wasn't gonna stop.

Six hours later as he left Nicks room he felt a massive surge go through him, no longer able to ignore what was wrong and it was his own damn fault.

Sam had forgotten his suppressants and for the first time in years was going into rut. He made it to the end of the hall before passing out.

Cas had been by his friends bedside since Sam was found unconscious in one of the hallways days ago. He had been able to temporarily bring Sam's fever down and gave him sedatives to help him rest but with his age not being mated and having gone years without a rut his biology was demanding only cure, his chosen Omega.

Cas had called the Omega only getting her voicemail, left a message and began sending multiple texts.

He explained to Bobby that Mary had to leave the bunker, not only for her safety but the Betas also living there, unsure of how Sam will react to having another Alpha present when his Omega returned. Bobby found a case in Oregon that would occupy them for at least a week.

So Cas continued to do the only thing he could and watches over his friend.

Sam woke groggy from the sedatives to the strong scent of an Omega in heat pulling him to full consciousness.

Rolling onto his side he finds Trouble lying next to him naked, covered in a light sheen of sweat fitfully sleeping.

Moving to spoon her from behind he grips one leg hooking it over his rocking his hips sliding his engorged cock through her dripping folds, Half asleep she whimpers pulling out of his grip, drawing both legs to her chest. Rumbling in discontent Sam scoots behind her again, lines up and buries himself in her tight heat making her moan with pleasure, her cunt stretching around him.

Sam pulls out and hauls Trouble onto her hands and knees spreading her legs wide and sinks back in till his hips are flush against her ass. Feeling her relax around him Sam grasps her waist so tight bruises already forming and growling at the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her slick cunt he starts pounding his hips rapidly.

Trouble reaches out grabbing the headboard to stop Sam from shoving her into it since he has six inches and nearly seventy pounds on her and is running on his instinct to mate.

Sam's knot starts to swell he continues thrusting wildly wrenches her hips up, forcing her to arch her back more as he grunts ramming the now fully engorged knot into her cunt locking them together and falls over her back, rolling his hips as she clenches him cumming.

Sam pushes himself back upright pulling her with him, flush against chest seizes a fistful of her thick hair bends to bite deeply into her neck making Trouble cry out loudly and cum again.

As they counterbalance each other Sam runs his tongue over his mark cleaning off the seeping blood helping the wound seal up faster before shifting to lay them down on the mattress.

Feeling the tug of his knot Trouble clenches tightly around him again, sending another orgasm rippling through Sam, releasing more of his seed into her.

Sam wraps his arms around Trouble, their bodies trembling from the exertion and a feeling of immense peace he’s never had before settles within him. He places a kiss upon her shoulder as it dawns on him he’s finally being to call her his omega.

“It's just every time I think about ya know its a..its like a nightmare. I can't eat, can't sleep, it’s always just there watching.” Dean bitched as they’re walking through the hallways.

“Dean, it’s just a beard, I’ve been a little busy lately” Sam remarks back exasperated and relived to have his brother back giving him a hard time.

“Yeah well, that’s not an excuse ya know, ‘cause a.. Duck Dynasty called and they just they want it all back.”

“Some people say I look good.” Sam proudly states almost telling him why he’s really kept it.

“No..no Sam, no people say that.” Dean shakes his head.

“Duck Dynasty is a step up from Dr. Sexy in some peoples opinions,” Dean turns to counter that insult disbelieving his eyes like Sam did weeks ago.

Trouble’s leaning against the wall now sporting titian tresses that rival Rowena's.

“Good to have you back Dean,” She says giving him a hug, “and I like the beard.” Walking over to Sam she pushes him against the wall wantonly kissing in front of Dean.

Breathless, Sam touches his forehead against hers running his fingers along the flannels front, “I was looking for this shirt the other day ‘mega.”

“Hmm, my bad, suppose I need to be punished Alpha.” She teasingly remakes biting her lip as Sam purrs low in his chest sliding the shirt off her shoulders.

“You’re back together?” Dean blurts out in disbelief interrupting them.

Sam turns pulling Trouble with him, her back flush against his chest reaches up moving her hair revealing his mark.

Dean looks between them, “fucking took you long enough Sammy,” he barks before continuing down the hallway grumbling, “there better not be any more surprises.”

Sam nuzzled into her neck breathing in the new honey-vanilla scent mixing with her naturally cooler one reaches down placing his large hands protectively over her womb where their surprise is resting tenderly kissing her shoulder.

[blissfullyshipping]

Pocahontas (Thorin x Reader) - Chp3

Story summary: Homeless and wounded after the Battle of Moria, Thorin and his kin find shelter in an ancient dwarven tribe. He meets the Chiefs daughter who teaches him the ways of the tribe and the beauty of nature.

**Fandom: **The Hobbit (Set before the quest for Erebor)

**Warnings: **None

A/N: I don’t really know if the khuzdul phrases are correct? Hopefully they are lol. “Italics” = Khuzdul

Who takes an arrow out of their wound?! You think as you rip part of your tunic, revealing your midriff slightly, and hold it tightly against his bleeding shoulder. Stupid, insolent dwarf holding you at knife point, you snatch his dagger from his limp grip and stash it into your belt

You look over at Kafrumi, who looks down at the two of you with cautious eyes. Your hand tightens around the wound and the dwarf flinches in his unconscious state, “We should take him to my father. You go back to the tribe with him, I’m going to look for the rest of his party.” You mutter dismissively, getting up and walking past him. 

“Y/N,” he stops you holding your arm “The chief won’t allow it, we will both look for them.” You turn to look at him and shake your head stiffly, eyes trained on his grip. Sighing, knowing there’s no room for discussion, he takes off his bow and set of arrows and hands them to you silently. You take them and leave without a word, running off into the dense forest. 

You decide to travel back to the pond and think of the words your father had told you two days prior. Kafrumi is to be your intended. Growing up as the daughter of the leader of the tribe you knew certain things would be expected of you. You will be the first dwarrow chieftain the tribe has and to keep the title within your family and to avoid conflict with those who don’t believe in you, your marriage to Kafrumi was proposed. When your father told you, you tried to keep your face void of your true emotions. You kept your mouth shut and when he was done you left.

Arriving at the pond you continue through the vines the dwarf jumped out from, your mind recounting the way his soaked tunic stuck to his firm, broad chest. The way his eyes narrowed at the sight of you and how your skin burned from it’s intensity. There’s anger burning in those eyes, angry at the world and the Valar, a mystery you find yourself wanting to unravel. Never have you met a dwarf quite like him. And then he ruined by opening his mouth and trying to attack you.

You track his journey from the pond and soon follow the low murmur of voices. Finally, you’ve found the rest of his party illuminated by their fire. You’re shocked by the number of dwarves that occupy the makeshift camp, this is not what you expected. You expected a group of bandits or an army, not a dishevelled and injured camp speaking in hushed frantic tones to each other. Does no one speak khuzdul anymore?

You decide against drawing an arrow and step into their camp, a dwarf with a poorly cast leg spots you and yells in surprise, garnering the attention of the others. 

“I mean no harm.” You say in your limited Middle Earth Westron. The dwarves continue to stare, dumbfounded, you sigh in frustration. “Ren de khazadul menu?” The question seems to snap them from their stupor and they murmur amongst themselves. You hear someone whisper in disbelief ‘She’s a dwarrow?!’ and you will yourself not to throttle the dwarf. “Men bi khaham Matoaka, Y/N L/N ai-menu duzhuk” 

An older dwarf with a round nose steps out from the crowd and bows “Balin, at your service azbadu men.” 

“Matoaka has your leader,” you admit to the two dwarves. Balin had taken you away from the camp and was accompanied by his much more aggressive brother, Dwalin, who grips his axe in anger from your words. “He’s being treated for arrow wounds.” You lean back and smirk at Dwalin, his brother quickly pulling him back as he tries to lunge at you. 

Dwalin shoves Balin back and whispers something harshly to him, both dwarves turn to you and eye the dagger stashed in your belt and the arrows on your back. Cautiously, you rise to your feet, both hands out to try and dissolve the situation. 

“I can explain, it’s not what you think.” you insist, slowly backing away from the furious Dwalin. “I promise you he’s being treated at the tribe, I can take you there.” 

You hear Balin try to coerce his brother with no success. When your back hits a tree Dwalin charges. Quickly you duck, his axe lodging into the trunk, you turn and kick him in the back giving you enough time to run to Balin and hold an arrow to his neck, muttering apologies as you do so.

“Listen to me dwarf!” You hiss facing Dwalin, who looks like he might implode with anger. “We are treating your leader, I can take your clan to the tribe.” 

“It’s clearly a trap!” He growls. You swear to the Valar in frustration, here you are offering a place for the imposters to seek shelter only to be met with violence.

“Think of your kin,” you nod to the camp, “They’re wounded, exhausted and now leaderless, the Matoaka are gentle folk. I know not where you come from, but here dwarves do not kill dwarves.”  you state and remove your arrow from Balin’s neck.

“We have to have trust brother.” Balin adds moving towards his brother who nods and storms off back to the camp. “Let us gather our belongings and then we’ll follow you.”

“You could’ve been hurt Y/N,” your father scolds you, once you had led the foreign dwarves into the tribe your father had summoned you. “Nothing good comes from your hastiness.” 

“I don’t believe they hold any threat father, they’re too injured to fight.” 

“But you didn’t know that before seeking them out,” he clarifies “What if they were waiting for you, you would’ve defended yourself with a bow and arrow?” 

“I’m fine Adad, I promise.” You insist. “Something has happened to these dwarves, they had no shelter and their supplies were running low. We have a duty to look after them.” You father smiles at your answer and chuckles.

“You’ll be a fearless leader one day, lukhudel. But do not forget to be wary.” He pauses and gestures to the door. “Now go to the infirmary, don’t think I didn’t notice your limp, get it wrapped before you do more damage to yourself.” You grin and take your leave, forgetting the arrogant dwarf who is currently residing in the infirmary.

Ren de khazadul menu? - Do you speak Khuzdul?

Men bi khaham Matoaka, Y/N L/N ai-menu duzhuk - My clan is Matoaka, my name is Y/N L/N

azbadu men - My lady

Adad - Father

lukhudel - Light of all lights

[fuzzhugs]

Two Warriors

@thegoldensoundtwice inspired me with her “Cornflower the Warrior” piece. I thought to myself: “What if both were warriors?”

*

Matthias remembered falling asleep in his bed in the gatehouse cottage, so it came entirely as a surprise to him when he opened his eyes and found himself standing in the middle of Mossflower. He couldn’t identify the particular part of the woods he was in, and everything was shrouded in a thick mist. He examined himself and found he was wearing his traveling gear as well as the Sword of Martin the Warrior. The sound of pawsteps from behind caused him to turn around.

“Oh, Martin,” he breathed a sigh of relief seeing the legendary and ancient warrior of Redwall. “I was starting to think that I had been sleepwalking. What do you need from me? Is the Abbey in danger?”

“No,” Martin said, his voice calm, “there is no danger, I only need-” he stopped suddenly and looked behind him, his eyes darting from left to right, as though he was reading something written in the air. “Something is not right.” He turned to Matthias, “stay here.” Martin dissolved into mist and vanished from sight.

“Martin!?” Matthias called into the misty forest. “Martin, what’s going on?”

The spectral mouse returned a moment later, appearing out of the mist in an instant. He seemed flustered and distracted. He grabbed onto Matthias’ arm. “Hold on.”

Matthias felt static building around him like it did on a dry winter’s day. Before he could question Martin, there was a blinding flash and a sound like rushing wind. It was over in a moment, but Matthias’ vision did not immediately return. “Martin, what happened?”

“There was something strange in the dream. I’ve moved you to a safer place until I can fix it, a dream between dreams. I’ve had to place a few others here as well. This dream touches many other creature’s stories, so you might see some strange things here, but don’t worry, nothing here can hurt you. I’ll be back soon.”

The silence that followed informed Matthias that Martin had gone again. Matthias stood in place, rubbing his eyes as his eyesight slowly began returning in a grey-green blur. He took stock of himself when he could finally see clearly again. The woods around him were still misty, but he was in a different spot altogether in the middle of a forest trail. He didn’t recognize it as anywhere in Mossflower. The towering trees seemed foreboding, but he trusted Martin’s words that nothing would hurt him, and he began following the path, looking for a better place to sit and wait.

He heard voices coming out of the shrouded woods as he walked along the trail. The voices were indistinct, and Matthias couldn’t tell what they were saying. Some of the voices didn’t sound like voices at all, speaking in tongues of which he had no knowledge.

After traveling for a short time, he came across a clearing. The large boulder sitting in the middle looked like the perfect place to sit for a while. He crossed to the boulder and grabbed the top and pulled himself up. When he was halfway onto the rock, he looked up and saw that some other creature was doing the same. In his surprise, Matthias lost his grip and fell back to the ground. He was stunned by the impact and the breath was driven out from his lungs. He lay there in a stupor as the other creature scrambled across the rocks and peaked over the edge.

“Sorry,” she said looking down at him, “I didn’t know any other beast was…Matthias?”

Matthias shook his head to clear it. He looked at the stranger above and saw it was… “Cornflower? What are you doing here?" She was dressed in traveling clothes similar to Matthias’ garb, with sturdy bracers on her forearms and cloth wrappings over her footpaws as well.

“Never mind that, where did you get that sword?”

“Well, there was this whole affair with a riddle, and the Abbey roof, and a snake. You were there for most of it. I’m surprised you don’t remember,” Matthias said cheekily.

“No, where did you get that sword?” Cornflower reached to her side and pulled out the same sword that was resting in a scabbard at Matthias’ side. She dropped down as Matthias stood up. He pulled out his sword and compared it to the one in Cornflower’s paw. They were identical in every way, from the edge on the blade to the small scratches on the hilt that would only be noticed by a beast who held it regularly.

“Martin brought you here, that’s clear enough,” Matthias said, “but why did he give you his sword?”

Cornflower gave Matthias a confused look. “The Warrior of Redwall usually has the Sword with them, Matthias.”

“Yes, that’s why I have the Sword, why do you have the sword?”

“Because I’m the Redwall Warrior,” Cornflower insisted. “Are you feeling ill, Matthias? Did you hit your head or something?”

“What do you mean you’re the Redwall Warrior?” Matthias asked, getting more confused by the second.

“As you said: riddle, roof, snake. Then there was Cluny.”

“You’re telling me that you killed Cluny?”

“You remember something else happening?” Cornflower said, looking at Matthias suspiciously. She raised her sword in a defensive posture. “What are you? Some sort of ghost playing a trick on me? An imposter? Why are you pretending to be Matthias?”

“I am Matthias,” Matthias asserted.

“Then tell me something only he would know.”

Matthias thought for a moment. “There’s a sensitive spot behind your ears. You always laugh when I touch you there.” He smiled as Cornflower’s ears turned pink. “Now you. Something only Cornflower knows about me.”

“You’ve always wanted to find your mother and learn why she left you at the Abbey.”

Matthias nodded. “It seems we’re who we say we are, but not as the other remembers. Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

Cornflower returned her sword to its scabbard. “When Martin brought you here, he said something about a “dream between dreams” or something like that. My ears were ringing, so I didn’t catch all of it, did you?”

“A dream between dreams,” Matthias confirmed. “A dream that touches many other stories. I didn’t understand what he meant at the time. Does that explain our differences in memory? We’re from places where our histories are different, where events played out differently?”

Cornflower shrugged. “It sounds strange, but if it’s what Martin said, I have no reason to doubt it. Look at me closely,” she told Matthias. “Am I exactly like the Cornflower you know?”

Matthias peered at the creature who so closely looked like his wife. “No,” he said. “there is a sternness, a hardness in your eyes that I’ve never seen before. You hold yourself differently than my Cornflower.”

The warrior Cornflower nodded. “You’re different from my Matthias too. My Matthias is still awkward and clumsy. But you, you have an air of confidence and maturity about you. I look at you and can see you have the same features, but you aren’t my husband.”

Having settled the matter of their identities, the two warrior mice climbed back up the boulder to rest until Martin came to retrieve them.

“Awkward and clumsy?” Matthias asked. “I was always tripping over myself, knocking things over, spilling baskets of nuts. I found it embarrassing.”

“I always thought it was cute. You had…have so much energy that it gets the better of you, but you always put things back the way they’re supposed to be.” Cornflower thought for a moment. “Tell me about the Cornflower you love. She’s not…weak, is she?”

“Well, she’s not a warrior like you or me, but I would never say she’s weak. She can be fierce when she needs to be. Back during the war with Cluny, she used a stew-pot to take down a rat and burned down a siege tower single-pawed. I have no doubt she would fight to defend Redwall and our son.”

Cornflower sat silently until finally saying, “I…we have a son in your world?”

“You don’t?”

Cornflower shook her head.

“Mattimeo. Matthias Methuselah Mortimer properly, but we only call him that when he’s in trouble, so we call him that quite a bit.”

“When was he born?”

“Not long after Cluny. We…my Cornflower and I got married pretty quickly. As you’d expect, Mattimeo came along shortly afterward. You didn’t want any children?”

“My Matthias did, but I wanted to avoid it. Don’t get me wrong, I love the young ones at the Abbey. Matthias and I always make time to play with them when we can, but I never thought… I imagined it’d be difficult to have the responsibilities of a warrior and a mother both. I didn’t think I could make the split evenly.”

“Well, you aren’t exactly wrong,” Matthias explained. “It was difficult, being a father and a warrior, and I often wish I could spend more time with my son, but I think it’s my amazing wife who makes it possible. She’s always there, keeping our home in order, which is no small task, certainly. She understands my duty and responsibility, and doesn’t begrudge me when I’m gone for days at a time, sorting out business in Mossflower. And I understand too, when she absolutely needs me to be there at home.” Matthias put a supporting paw on Cornflower’s shoulder. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. If you’re anything like my Cornflower, and if your Matthias is anything like me, then I think you could make it happen, but it’s your choice.”

Cornflower closed her eyes and smiled. “My Matthias could do with a few lessons from you. He isn’t nearly as well-spoken. And having a second Matthias around wouldn’t be so bad. One of you might actually do what I tell you to.”

“Or we’d both end up not doing what you tell us to.” Matthias suggested.

“That’s true, you’d better go back to your own Cornflower.”

Matthias looked around. He had lost track of time, and the misty forest seemed to grow neither darker nor lighter. “You know,” he said, “I’ve haven’t had the chance to fight many skilled swordbeasts. What would you say to a little sparring?”

“With real swords?” Cornflower said incredulous, “one of us would kill the other.”

Matthias took out his copy of Martin’s Sword. “Martin said that nothing here could hurt us.” He ran the blade along his arm like a razor. It should have cut through his fur easily and left a bald patch, but there was no sign of damage. He rapped the blade down against his arm, hard enough where it should have drawn blood, but there was not cut, only a lingering frigid sensation. “Poke me with your sword,” Matthias told Cornflower.

“What? No.”

“Okay, I’ll poke you then.”

Cornflower quickly removed her sword and made a shallow jab at Matthias’ leg. Again, there was no injury.

“I’d say we’re safe.”

Cornflower climbed down from the boulder and got into a ready stance. “Do you often fight with your wife like this?”

“Usually she just yells at me for getting crumbs in our bed.”

A sword rarely has the opportunity to clash with itself, and so something new and unique began to play out in the dream where two worlds met. The steel of Martin’s sword, forged by a badger from a fallen star, rang and pealed like a bell as it met its twin. The two mice led each other in a dance around the clearing, matching their footwork, falling into a rhythm of spinning, guarding, and striking. Such a display had never been seen in the waking world. After a time, both mice stood down, sweating and gasping for breath. Neither could land a blow on the other nor gain a clear advantage. They fought the same way, moved the same way, even improvised the same way. The fight was proving fruitless.

“I always thought you two were cute together,” said a voice from nearby.

Both mice looked and saw Martin sitting on top of the boulder looking down at them.

“About time you got here.” Cornflower stated.

“What happened, Martin?” Matthias asked.

“Difficult to explain,” Martin said, “but everything is fixed now and I can get you back to where you belong.”

“Wait a moment,” Cornflower insisted. “You could have put us anywhere in this dream-world, but you chose to put us close together. Why?”

“I thought you might appreciate gaining some outside perspective on your own lives,” Martin said, sliding down from the rock. “To see your spouses and yourselves from a different point of view, but I think it’s time you were sent home.”

Matthias and Cornflower said farewell to each other, complimenting each other’s skill with the sword. Martin took Cornflower away first, popping back after a few moments for Matthias.

“Are you prepared to return?”

“It’s not going to be like the trip here, is it?”

“Everything should be stable now. The journey should be easy.” Martin led Matthias off into the mist.

“I have to say, Martin. I wouldn’t want to fight her for real.”

“Neither would I. And I think she was holding back.”

Matthias shrugged. “So was I. It was hard fighting somebeast who looked like my wife, even if it was only sparring.”

As the two beasts walked, the mist became thicker and the forest grew darker, and Matthias found it hard to see where he was walking, but he could feel Martin’s paw guiding him, and he followed his spectral friend through the dark. He began to feel tired, and his eyes closed on their own accord.

When he opened his eyes again, he was in bed. The first light of morning was sneaking through a crack in the curtains. He felt a little cold, and he realized Cornflower had stolen all the blankets again. Reaching over, he gently touched a spot behind Cornflower’s ears, causing her to lightly giggle in her sleep.

Matthias settled back down into his pillow, ready to doze long into the morning. He was back with Cornflower. His Cornflower. He wouldn’t want any other.

[echoheart0324]

Hi there, it's very interesting they show screen shots of Ava and brain as well Master of Master and luxu. I Specifically interesting what going on with ava and brain talking about in the screen will show in the next khux updates. Oh another thing, ava may or may not be the that killed strelitza and give the green and the bop to brain. He is probably not the real union leader. But that's just one of the theories that I hear around. What do you think?

I discussed that theory a while ago, but yeah, that’s the one I’m aboard on at the moment since it has the most evidence behind it. I go into a little more depth in this ask, where a follower brought it up to me while a mutual added some more info to it.

()()()

Otherwise, it might be a new character? To narrow down the possible suspects of Strelitzia’s murder:

It’s not Ephemera since we see him receive the book. He’s also the obvious leader type, since everyone seems to agree he’s the main leader out of the five, so it’s 100% not him.

It’s not Skuld cuz she’s heavily against violence, based off how she reacted to PVP. She’s also loyal to her duties as a Dandelion, where she wants as many people to escape from the war as possible, so it’s very unlikely she murdered her.

It’s probably not Ven, due to how he explained to the other leaders how he had a talk with Ava. So unless he spied on the other leaders, this would be disclosed information that only an Union Leader would know. His reaction to PVP also shows how against he is about fighting. There’s a slim possibility, but it’s unlikely.

Brain’s a popular finger to point to, and we can’t exactly say much due to how his personality keeps shifting tones, and a few of his lines differ with each translation (like the friendship line for example). However, while it could be him. I personally don’t think so (it might be cuz I’m biased). There’s quite a few posts I’ve made in the past discussing this, but I can’t find them right now. Sure, he agreed to PVP, but he helped solve who Strelitzia was interested in, which would be a terrible idea if you’re trying to cover your tracks as much as possible. Though for sure, he’s definitely the imposter in the group (unless it’s a herring where someone else becomes the ‘virus’ in his place instead).

It’s not Lauriam at all. Period. This one should be self-explanatory.

It’s not Elrena at all. She’s shown caring about Strelitzia deeply, though they rarely talked much. However, Elrena knows her at least a bit, since she knows Strelitzia’s interested in the Player.If we assume ‘Darkness’ is the killer since they share the same unique sprite, then her killer is most likely a male, due to how they use ‘ore’ in the JP version (unless they just wanna use a more masculine tone).

[velkynkarma]

oh my god. if you wrote something set in Failsafe of what the hell Keith did to get that scientist info, I would die. please. oh my god.

Please don’t die! But I hope you enjoy :)

Takes place at some point in chapter 4 of Failsafe. (For the 2018 April Fools Prompt Day)

———

Keith guides the pod into the Blade of Marmora’s base and sets it down in the main hangar, fingers tight on the controls.

By now, the others will know that he’d left. By now, Shiro’s probably starting to worry, unless he’s found the note in the Black Lion. By now, they’re probably fighting over whether to track him down or not, or trying to figure out what to do in his absence.

He hadn’t had much of a choice. He’d had to leave then, in order to make it to the Blade’s base before the solar flares closed it for another two quintents. Ryou’s already been locked away in the sleep chamber for more than a month. He doesn’t deserve to be in there for longer than he has to be. Waiting and spinning his wheels over an action he can’t take would have driven Keith crazy.

Shiro will understand. He probably already knows where Keith’s gone. And the team can survive without him for as long as this takes. Shiro can fly the Black Lion, and Lance can handle Red. They won’t be stuck without Voltron. It’ll be fine.

He hopes it will be fine, anyway.

He hasn’t been to Blade headquarters for a while. And he’s not sure that Kolivan and the rest of the Blades will be all that happy with that.

He’d never really meant to get himself in so deep. The Blade of Marmora had never really required his presence, back when the team had first discovered them. They’d been willing allies of Voltron, but that had been it.

And then Shiro had vanished. And then he’d come back. And things had changed, suddenly.

Shiro had been different then. Insistent. He’d needed to have control of their missions, and when he couldn’t—when the Black Lion refused him—he’d tried to direct through Keith, instead. Keith had found it unsettling. He didn’t always agree with Shiro’s decisions, especially when Shiro hadn’t been focusing on what Keith thought were some of the most important part of Team Voltron’ duties: tracking down Lotor, the new head of the empire, and figuring out how to deal with him.

Shiro hadn’t agreed. His focus had been elsewhere. And he’d been distant. Keith had felt like he was floundering in his own team, and he hadn’t liked how Lotor seemed to be slipping through their fingers. So he’d started working with the Blade more in his spare time, what little their was, trying to not let Lotor be completely forgotten in the face of other Voltron duties. And when Shiro had reconnected with the Black Lion, it had been all the more reason for Keith to throw himself fully into his Blade commitments.

He’d become more integrated with the Blade. More trusted. His rank had risen, and he’d started going on more difficult missions with teams, being given more responsibilities. He’d become a valued member of their brotherhood. And while Kolivan often lectured him for his rashness in combat, and insisted on learning to temper his fury, he’d learned, and he’d gotten stronger, and he’d grown closer with many of those Blades.

And then it turned out that Shiro wasn’t Shiro at all. He was a copy that had nearly gotten everyone killed.

Keith hadn’t known what to make of it. At first he’d been furious at this imposter that had upset the balance of Voltron so easily. But it only took a matter of quintents to realize this was no malicious spy. This other-Shiro had been just as horrified by the discovery as the rest of them, and full of guilt at what he’d done, accidentally or no. He’d never argued when the team had tested him thoroughly for more traces of trickery and deceit, and he’d done everything he could to still support Voltron by his own efforts.

Keith had wanted to be furious. But this other-Shiro hadn’t been an aggressor; he’d been a victim. And he hadn’t really known what to make of that. He’d taken long enough to assure himself that the team wasn’t in danger with that—that fake still leading—and he’d retreated even further into the Blade, just to get away. He’d needed time to think.

And he’d needed time to find Shiro. The real Shiro. Because, victim or not, the Shiro they had wan’t the right one. The real one was still out there, missing for months, and he needed Keith’s help.

So Keith became more prominent in the Blade’s hierarchy. He went on more dangerous missions, took more risks to gather intelligence and search for Shiro. He used every contact he had to try and find the real Shiro. He’d worked hard and trained harder and became a tireless supporter within the Blade to further his own goals, and in the process he’d become invaluable to them. Reliable. Trustworthy.

And then he’d thrown it all away, when Shiro had been found.

Shiro had needed Keith. Shiro had always been the goal, the reason he’d kept sticking around, once Lotor had turned on his own empire and made a grudging alliance with Voltron. Once the real Shiro had been found—and not even by his own efforts, or the Blades, but by his own clone—Keith had no further reason to stay. Not when Shiro was still in trouble, rescued or no. Not when he’d still needed help with his recovery.

So he’d broken away from the Blade. He’d attended missions less. Disappeared for longer periods of time. Refused the more dangerous work, when he knew he had to make it back alive. And eventually he’d left the base entirely, returning to the Castle of Lions for good.

The Blade…hadn’t been happy with that decision. They still worked with Voltron, of course. Both parties were too useful to the other to not, and it was too beneficial for both sides. But they’re colder to Keith now, when they do. Keith can feel disappointment and betrayal emanating from every Blade he ever interacts with, on missions, and he starts doing his best to avoid them. Kolivan usually speaks to Shiro directly now, when making requests or planning attacks; Keith rarely acts as the in-between.

He never thought he’d come back here, to Blade headquarters. He’d never planned to, not unless Shiro ordered him to. And while he’s never told Shiro what was happening with the Blade, Shiro’s not stupid. He definitely suspects, and he’s never pressed Keith to come back.

But now? Now, he doesn’t have a choice.

He doesn’t because the team doesn’t. Because it’s evolved, because that ‘fake’ Shiro isn’t a ‘fake Shiro’ at all anymore. He’s Ryou, his own person, but a valued member of the team all the same. He’s fought his way past being a victim to take control of it, and to fight the Galra in his own way. And now he’s dying, and Keith can’t bear to let him fall.

Seven months ago, Keith would have done anything to avoid that clone. Seven months ago he’d wanted to be furious at him. He’d retreated into the Blade of Marmora completely just to avoid him.

And now he’s back here to try and save him.

Several Blade agents approach him as he opens the pod’s hatch and leaps out. “Keith,” one intones. Her voice is digitized due to the mask most agents wear even in the base, but Keith can hear the disgust in it anyway.

He fights back any reaction showing on his face. His own mask is currently disabled to leave his face visible. Among the Blade it’s a way to show one isn’t trying to get away with anything, since one can be so easily identified. Right now, he needs to look as non-threatening as possible.

“Hello, Kamatir,” he says. “I need to speak to Kolivan.”

“We are here to ensure you reach him,” Kamatir says, with an edge of warning.

They are definitely not happy with him, if they’re sending a not-so-subtle escort to make sure he doesn’t run. He hasn’t been greeted quite this harshly since he and Shiro first arrived to meet with the Blade.

But Keith doesn’t fight them, or argue. Instead he only nods and follows. Kamatir takes the lead, and her companion follows behind Keith to ensure he doesn’t run back to his pod and try to flee, but at least they do him the courtesy of not trying to disarm him of his Blade. Whatever’s happened, he isn’t considered an enemy or a thief just yet.

They take him to Kolivan immediately. The leader of the Blade of Marmora is in the central command room, reviewing intel and star charts for whatever task he is planning next. Kamatir steps aside long enough to let Keith pass her, and then turns and slams the door shut behind him, leaving him alone with the head of the Blade.

“I am surprised to see you’ve returned,” Kolivan says shortly.

“I had to,” Keith says. “It’s an emergency.”

Kolivan turns to regard him. “If it was an emergency with Voltron, I am sure Shiro would have contacted us long before now via our usual channels. This is a personal emergency.”

“No,” Keith says. Kolivan stares at him, and the head of the Blade’s gaze is dangerously discerning; Keith can feel him searching for any trace of a lie, or a manipulated truth. He’s very good at it. That’s one of the many reasons he’s in charge of such an already secretive organization. “Sort of,” he finally amends. “It isn’t for me. Not exactly. One of our team is…is very sick.”

“Not one of your paladins,” Kolivan observes bluntly. “Or that would constitute an emergency, I imagine.”

Keith clenches his jaw, but Kolivan isn’t wrong. Ryou could operate the Black Lion, but he wasn’t really a paladin anymore. He’d given up the title the moment he’d given lead back to Shiro, the day Shiro had been strong enough to re-assume command. And he wasn’t really vital to Voltron, not with two others that could also pilot Black. “No. Not one of them. But he is a valued member of the team, and without help, he could die.”

“And what do you think the Blade could offer?”

“Contacts,” Keith says. “Skilled scientists and doctors that know the value of discretion. You were able to get Slav easily enough. You have to know others.”

Kolivan narrows his eyes at that. “Discretion? Who exactly is ill? I am sure the Coalition has medical specialists willing to heal those of Voltron at a moment’s notice.”

Keith’s pretty sure Kolivan already knows, but he’s being pushed to answer. Lying wouldn’t help any; Keith’s already on a razor’s edge with the Blade. “Ryou,” he answers finally, through grit teeth.

“The clone,” Kolivan says.

“Yes.” They’ve tried to keep the nature of Ryou’s existence a secret, and the greater public has no idea that Ryou is anything other than Shiro’s ‘twin brother.’ Keeping such a secret from an organization dedicated to digging them up would have been impossible, however, especially since the Blade had been instrumental in rescuing the real Shiro.

“Why do you wish to preserve the clone?” Kolivan asks. He seems genuinely surprised. “It’s only a Galra weapon. That it turned on its masters in the Empire was beneficial, but you have your true leader back. There would be no loss to the war effort if it dies.”

Keith’s been trying to maintain composure, but his expression breaks into a snarl at that. “He’s a person,” Keith snaps. “And he’s family now, and he needs us. It’s not about the war effort. It’s about what’s right.”

Kolivan doesn’t seem particularly impressed with his outburst. He’s always lectured Keith about his temper, and letting his emotions get the better of him. Getting angry at him won’t change his mind.

Patience yields focus, he reminds himself. He has to be calm. He has to make this work. The team needs this. Shiro needs this. Ryou needs this, most of all.

“I’m sorry,” Keith says, after taking a deep breath. “We’ve all been very worried. Ryou is important to us. We’ve been trying to find ways to help him, but our regular contacts at the Coalition aren’t working. He needs help. You might be able to figure out who can help him.” He gives Kolivan a pleading look. “Please. Just a few contacts, and maybe we can make a difference.”

“No.”

Keith’s heart plummets into his stomach seconds before his rage takes over. “What? Why?”

“I told you the day you came here, Keith,” Kolivan says, turning back to his screens. “Our organization is built on secrecy and trust. We lost secrecy with Zarkon’s first fall, and our emergence into the light. But trust is still valued—and you do not have any of ours any longer.”

“So you’ll just condemn someone to death over that?” Keith asks. He’s furious, but he’s also worried. Please, don’t let my decision cost Ryou his life. He doesn’t deserve it….and it would hurt Shiro so badly. “That’s ridiculous! I’m not asking for anything complicated!”

“You’re asking for Blade resources for a highly personal mission unrelated to our society’s purpose,” Kolivan says. “Resources my men and women have put their lives on the line to obtain, resources we have carefully curated and vetted. You want Blade knowledge for free—and after turning your back on us, when we are no longer convenient to you?”

“That isn’t what happened,” Keith protests. But it isn’t a false statement, either.

“My Blades came to rely on you, Keith,” Kolivan says sternly. “This is a brotherhood. This is a family with purpose. And you have spat on it.”

“They need me too!” Keith says insistently. “I was a paladin of Voltron before I was ever a Blade. I’m sorry that work became more important. I’m sorry that I became unreliable. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there for this team when I might have been needed. But I can’t be in two places at once.”

“Then you have made your decision,” Kolivan says. “I will acknowledge your importance to Voltron, and do not see the point of detaining you. You are free to leave. The flares will make travel impossible in fifteen doboshes—be gone by then.”

“No!” Keith snaps. “Not without those contacts.”

Kolivan freezes. Then, very slowly, he turns to look at Keith.

It’s hard to meet his gaze. Kolivan is imposing, and very dangerous. That’s the other reason he’s risen to leadership in the Blade of Marmora. But Keith refuses to back down anyway. He can’t go. Not without answers.

That sends a spark of familiarity through him. Kolivan seems to realize it, too. His eyes flick for just a moment to Keith’s sheathed dagger, and its glowing purple jewel in the hilt. And then he says slowly, “You should know by now, Keith. There is only one way to obtain knowledge here.”

Knowledge or Death. The old Blade adage. Answers never come freely. There is always a price.

“What do you need, in return for those contacts?” he asks, voice tight and sharp.

Kolivan regards him carefully. Then he finally says, “There is a mission of some difficulty. Data must be acquired regarding a powerful superweapon a Galra engineer is designing. It will require exceptional piloting skills to reach, due to the station’s position in a dangerous and highly unstable quintessal field. Much like this base, it can only be reached for a limited amount of time, and the location is already overrun with Galra forces.” He taps up a display on one of the screens near him. “Flying in and out will be difficult, and any agent will be required to remain unseen for approximately three quintents in the base itself, until the way out opens again.”

He turns to regard Keith. “I have already sent two Blades, and neither has returned. The mission is tailored to your unique skillset, but even so, it will be exceedingly dangerous.”

Exceedingly dangerous…more like suicidal. The information must be worth quite a lot to the Galra, to hide it like this, and to the Blade, to risk multiple agents on failures. Kolivan doesn’t like taking unnecessary risks and prefers laying down enough groundwork to guarantee a success, even if it takes extra time.

“How much is this knowledge worth to you?” Kolivan asks.

How much is it worth to Keith? There’s a very high chance he won’t come back from this. There’s a chance it could be for nothing, and those contacts won’t know the answer anyway. There’s a chance that even if they do find the answer, there still won’t be a way to save Ryou. After all of this, he could still die.

But he thinks back to the person trapped in that sleep chamber. To the way he doesn’t even resemble Shiro anymore, with his withered body and too-pale skin and the way even Shiro’s already awful scar looks ghastly on his face. He thinks back to the times he’d needed to supervise Ryou, when Shiro had been so exhausted he’d barely stayed upright and desperately needed the break. How Ryou’s mind had been wandering and confused, how he’d never really remembered he was Ryou, and yet even sick, even thinking he was Shiro, how he’d tried to do right by Keith. How sometimes he’d be cheerful and encouraging and ask about how Keith’s day was going, and how other times he’d panic and apologize for missing Keith’s birthday or for not being there for him when he’d been needed. How towards the end he’d been so weak, so vulnerable, so confused, and yet he’d still trusted Keith absolutely, still remembered him, despite all the times Keith had avoided and distrusted him.

He thinks about what losing that person might mean. The way Ryou would never get a chance to be something better than what the Galra had made him for. The way he’d already suffered, and how awful a way to go this would be, terrified and confused and in constant pain. The way it would hurt the team so badly to lose him, after all their attempts. The way it would devastate Shiro, who’d struggled so much to help Ryou survive, who’d given up countless nights of sleep and every bit of his free time to watch over his dying clone, who even now was probably tearing apart every resource possible to find him help.

How much is it worth to Keith? Everything. It’s worth everything. For his team, for Shiro, for Ryou, it’s worth it. Absolutely.

“Even if I die,” Keith negotiates, “You still forward those contacts to Shiro.”

“Those terms are acceptable,” Kolivan agrees. “I will research contacts based on your requirements during the mission, and deliver them in the event of your death. Then you agree?”

Keith nods, grim and determined. “Give me the mission specs.”

————-

The mission is harrowing.

The preparations are uncomfortable. Keith spends two quintents trapped in the Blade base because of the solar flares, studying up on every minute detail carefully as the Blade members ignore him with pointed disgust. He feels like a ghost among what had been his own kind, but he doesn’t care.

The flight into the base is terrifying. It almost kills him, on the way in. It almost kills him again, on his way out. He’s not sure anyone without his own instincts, enhanced further with hours of training alongside the Red Lion, could ever make it in. Not even a Blade.

And the three quintents trapped on the base are exhausting. He spends vargas curled up in tiny spaces and deepest shadows, avoiding sentries and patrolling Galra, trying to remain unseen. He absolutely cannot blow his cover, or he’ll need to avoid a manhunt for three quintents, and with this many enemy soldiers that’s impossible. He’s almost caught, getting the data. He barely sleeps, for the next three quintents, terrified that dropping his guard for even a second will get him discovered. He is caught at the very end, when he steals a Galra ship to escape, when the quintessal field’s energies retreat long enough to permit entry and exit. He manages to get away, but not without a nasty limp and quite a few injuries for his troubles.

But he does it. He does it, and he delivers the data to Kolivan with vicious triumph, slapping the drive on the table as he limps into the command center. “There,” he says, blunt and to the point. “My contacts?”

Kolivan takes the drive, and replaces it with another one, which he slides across the table to Keith. “Six scientists, or science teams,” he says, also without preamble. “All with specialties that match well against the symptoms you described. Each know the value of discretion and each are well hidden, off the grid. Show them your blade, and they will accept your inquiries immediately.”

“Good. Thank you.” Keith takes the drive, and tucks it carefully into the waist pouch on his Blade of Marmora uniform.

“Do you require healing?” Kolivan asks, eyeing his bloodied lip, and not missing Keith’s limp.

“No,” Keith says shortly. He does, actually, but if he stays for healing he’ll be trapped on the Blade base for another two quintents while the solar flares make travel impossible again. He’s not so bad it can’t wait for a cryo-pod on the Castle of Lions, and if he wants to get there at a reasonable time, he needs to go now.

“Very well,” Kolivan says. “You have done well, Keith. The Blade thanks you for the knowledge you have brought.”

Keith snorts. “No problem,” he says, as he turns for the door.

“Keith,” Kolivan says. “A warning.”

Keith freezes. His heart clenches, for just a moment, but he breathes again, just like Shiro taught him, and when he turns to face Kolivan his expression is steady.

“The Blades do not trust you,” Kolivan says bluntly. “This is a society built on trust. Regardless of your reasons, you have spurned that. Many Blades see being used until they are no longer convenient as a betrayal. I understand your actions, so I have not taken action in response. Yet.”

“But?” Keith asks.

“But I would advise you do not return,” Kolivan says, and he, too, sounds grim. “If you turn your back on the trust of the society, you do not desire to be a part of it. If you are not a part of it, you have no right to a Blade, or everything it means.”

Keith’s eyes narrow, and his hand slides defensively over the hilt of his sword. “You can’t take this from me. It awakened for me.”

“For now,” Kolivan says. “But there have been traitors before, and there will be traitors again. I am not saying you are one—at least, not intentionally. But the next time you return, Keith, you will be forced to make a choice. Your Blade, or your convictions. I can do no less for the society, and the Blades trust me to make sound decisions for its preservation.”

Keith’s jaw clenches, but after a moment he nods. “Alright. I understand. And thanks for the warning.”

Kolivan nods to him. “You are skilled, Keith,” he says after a moment. “You would make a strong agent. Make the right choice, and the Blade will learn to trust you once again.”

“I need to think about it.”

“As you should. It is a deep choice. Now go—you have eight doboshes before the flares build again.”

Keith nods, and turns away, with his hard-earned knowledge and an even harder choice.

[pjstafford]

We gave you Handicapped Parking. Season Seven Review. The 53rd Blog in the Disability in the World of The X-Files Series.

In the last 18 episodes of The X-Files season 7, nine of the episodes had enough of a reference or image of disability that they could not be ignored but, yet, none of them warranted a separate blog. In the nine some followed the patterns seen in other episodes. However, more frequently in these nine episodes, disability is simply a part of a character’s profile / story and not the focus.

In The Goldberg Variation, the luckiest man in the world has a prosthetic eye. He lost his eye in a plane accident where he is the only survivor. The show avoids connecting his luck to the prosthetic and instead connects it to the accident and survival. The prosthetic eye is used as a plot device for how Mulder tracks down the character Weems and, also, as a bit of unfortunate humor as Mulder returns the eye and Weems cleans it and pops it back in his socket. Once back it is impossible to tell the character has a prosthetic eye. Except for one reference to poor depth perception it is not discussed again. There is also a special needs child in this episode; a young boy who needs a liver transplant which he receives as the episode concludes.

In The Amazing Maleeni a character pretends to have had his legs amputated due to a car accident. Again this is used mostly for humor in a comedic episode as there are jokes about him enjoying the sympathy from female coworkers. When Mulder pushes him out of the wheelchair to expose the fraud, his boss says “we gave you handicapped parking.” This is a funny line which is delivered well. I do not find the humor offensive as it speaks to the fact that utilizing handicapped parking when you don’t need it is, in fact, universally perceived as a pretty despicable action regardless of what other despicable actions you might take. The most significant statement on disability comes from the imposter himself who indicates disability is a good cover because no one suspects a person with disability of robbing a bank. This is a nice, again comedic way, to demonstrate the ableism of society.

In Seiin Und Zeit we have a chilling portrayal of a woman imprisoned for killing her son, finally confessing, because it might be easier for a patrol board to “buy the story” of a woman having a psychotic break and killing her son than to believe she did not kill her son ( no body was ever found) but that her son periodically appeared to her and was a “walk in” (described as a child taken by spirits to prevent the harm that might otherwise occur to them. ) This storyline speaks to the ongoing pattern in the series of questioning whether a belief in the paranormal is a sign of mental illness. In this case the woman found that a psychotic break of killing your son was a better version of mental illness for the purposes of parole than that of belief in the paranormal. There is also reference in this episode to the “Twinkie” defense.

In Closure, we see the pattern of Scully belief system related to mental illness. Mulder is working with a psychic. Scully impugned his credibility by revealing that he has a diagnosis of schizophrenia. In what is, by now, a familiar pattern, this makes him at least untrustworthy and possibly a suspect in his son’s disappearance.

In Theef, at the end, through voo doo, Scully is blinded. This does allows the killer to get the upper hand on her, but she is able to find her gun and shoot the killer: preventing other deaths. She does not “give up” her duties or responsibilities because of her impairment.

In Chimera, the “monster” of the week turns out to be the most perfect suburban housewife who, because her happy life was a lie being threatened, developed a disassociative disorder where she became a raven killing creature. I like this episode but believe it would be better examined through a feminist perspective.

In Hollywood A.D. the continuing theme of whether or not belief in the supernatural makes you crazy is played with in the diner scene. First as the producer is leaving he says to Scully’s “ I think he is crazy for believing what he believes and I think you are crazy for not believing what he believes.”

In Je Souhaite a genie is giving wishes. One of two brothers does not have the ability to walk and uses a motorized wheelchair/ scooter. Despite the genie suggestions that the brother could wish for the functional use of his legs and not to be disabled, the brothers do not understand until the brother says with his last wish that he wished for legs before the building he is in blows up. While this is another comedic episode and this is used as a gag, I found something refreshing about the disability not being so significant in the person’s life that the first thing he would wish is to not be disabled.

In Requiem, the agents revisit the site of their first case. They reunite with Billy Miles who is now a police officer. He mentions his father, the police chief, had the psych results “fudged”. The Smoking man is back, sick and dying and using a wheelchair. Near the end of the episode Krychek throws him out of the wheelchair down a flight of stairs.

[thunder-the-ranger-wolf]

Enter Darkness Chapter 23

Bluestar led Firepaw  on the  trail  to  the  training  hollow.  The  path  was  strewn  with  freshly fallen golden leaves  that  rustled beneath their paws. Firepaw’s  mind raced  as  he  searched  for suitable  words.  What  should he  tell  his  leader?  That  Tigerclaw  was  plotting  to  get  rid of he and Ravenpaw?  And what  would he  say when Bluestar  asked him  why?  Could he  bring  himself to  say out  loud the secret he'd kept for moons until last night? Anxious thoughts buzzed in his head and by the  time  they  reached the  sandy hollow,  Firepaw  had still not  spoken. The ginger apprentice was surprised to find that the  hollow  was  empty.

“I  asked Tigerclaw  to  hold his  training  session in  another part  of the  forest  today,”  Bluestar  explained as she  padded into  the  center.  “I  want  to  concentrate  on your fighting  skills,  and  I  want  you  to concentrate  on them  too—which  means  no distractions.”

It has to be now, he   decided.  She  needs  to  know  about  the  danger  we're all  in, and I'll never  have  another  chance  like  this….

Sudden movement  flashed in  the  corner  of his  eye.  A  swish of gray  whirled past  his  nose,  and Firepaw reacted instinctively, springing up as  forward as  his  forepaws  were  knocked lightly  from  underneath him.  He  landed solidly and spun around to  see  Bluestar  sitting  calmly  beside  him.  

“Impressive trick,” she offered. “But you were easily distracted. Do  I  have  your attention now?”  she  growled.

“I…” Tell her!

“I've been having dreams!” He blurted out. “Where I lived another life. It was actually really similar to this one, far too similar, and I'm trying not to make the mistakes I have before, because-.”

“Because?”

“Because things get so much worse for ThunderClan. There's a reason Spottedleaf's prophecy says 'Fire alone can save the Clan.’” He insisted. “So that might mean you won't believe me, but Tigerclaw isn't who you think he is.”

“How so? Is he an imposter?” Bluestar sounded faintly amused. Firepaw closed his eyes and exhaled roughly.

“StarClan give me strength.” He murmured. “Being deputy wasn't enough for him in my dream. He wanted to be leader. He tried to kill you, Bluestar.”

“Well I doubt it worked.” She snorted. “There are plenty of others in ThunderClan to stop him.”

“There are, but I was the only one who knew the first time around, and that was because I was an outsider. You and the rest couldn't see anything wrong until it happened because you grew up with this cat. Ravenpaw felt more comfortable telling me, an outsider, about what Tigerclaw did than anyone else, than his own leader.”

“Well Ravenpaw is naturally skittish. I'd hoped that being apprenticed to Tigerclaw would bring out more of his personality.”

“How is that possible when Tigerclaw overshadows every cat he meets?” Firepaw grumbled. “But that's not the point. The second time around, I was there. The battle where Redtail died… Oakheart died in the rockfall while Redtail was still alive.”

“You're saying that Oakheart didn't kill Redtail?”

“Yes.”

“And you believe that Tigerclaw did?”

“I know for a fact. Ravenpaw and I hid in some undergrowth because we'd been told to go home, but we were curious as to what Tigerclaw was doing. I… I'm sorry to say that we both froze up when they started fighting. My entire goal was to stop Redtail's death but when it came time…”

“You're a cat, Firepaw, and a young one at that. You seem to have quite the burden on your shoulders as well. I will consult Ravenpaw when we get back, and if what you say is true, then Tigerclaw must be exiled.”

“That's how he becomes leader of ShadowClan.” Firepaw blurted out. “Keep an eye on him, definitely, but if he goes off on his own then he gathers more cats to wreak havoc on the Clans.”

“So what do you suggest we do?”

“Get Ravenpaw to confirm my story. I told the other apprentices last night, so they'll back us up if needed. We keep Tigerclaw prisoner within ThunderClan.”

“It would be a great burden on our Clanmates to treat him as one of their own when they find out the truth.”

“Then… I guess we can't tell them.” Firepaw mumbled, crouching in the dust with ears flat to his skull.

“So it is decided.” Bluestar announced. “We shall wait for the right moment. Tigerclaw must act before we can condemn him.”

Decisions made, they turned to training.

“Now Firepaw,  you have  been  with  us  for many moons, and I have  watched you fight. With  the  ShadowClan  warriors  you were  fierce. You outwitted Greypaw  on that  very first  day we  met,  and you defeated  Yellowfang  with  your cleverness  too.”

She  paused, then  lowered her voice to  an  intense  hiss.  

“But  one  day you will meet  an  opponent  who is  all  of these  things  as  well—quick, fierce  and clever. It’s  my  duty to  prepare  you for that  day.”

Firepaw  nodded, allowing her words to  wash over him. He'd done something, even if it was just setting Bluestar on the right track, to prevent the downfall of his great leader. His  senses  were  fully  alert as the  musty odors  and tiny noises  of the  forest  overran him.

“Let’s  see  how  you fight,”  Bluestar challenged.

“Attack me.” She ordered.

Firepaw  looked at  her, sizing  her up and wondering  the  best  way to  begin.

Bluestar  was  standing  less than  three  rabbit  lengths  away. She  was  twice  his  size, so  it  would be  a  waste  of effort  to  begin with  the  usual paw  swipes  and wrestling.  But  if he  could leap  straight  onto her back  with  a  powerful  enough jump, he  might be  able  to  unbalance  her. But no, that'd be too easy for her.

He decided to try it anyway. He  had aimed to  land squarely  on her shoulders, but  Bluestar  was  ready for him.  She  dropped swiftly into  a  crouch. As  Firepaw  hit  her, she  rolled onto her back. Instead  of landing  on her shoulders  he  found himself crashing  down toward her upturned belly. She  caught  him  with  all  four paws  and flung  him  away. He  hit  the  dusty  ground hard and lay winded for a  moment  before  he  scrambled to  his  feet.

“Interesting  strategy, but  your eyes  betrayed  where  you were  aiming,”  growled  Bluestar  as  she  stood up and shook off the  dust  from  her thick coat. Of course he had. How many times had he watched Cloudtail and Squirrelflight make that same mistake?!

“Now, try again.” This  time  Firepaw  looked at  her shoulders  but  aimed for her paws. When  Bluestar  dropped to  the ground he  would hit  her as  she  crouched. Firepaw  felt  a  rush  of satisfaction as  he  leaped, but  it  turned  to confusion as  Bluestar  unexpectedly  sprang  into  the  air and let  him  crash into  the  ground where  she  had stood just  a  heartbeat  before. He flipped on his back and pushed up as she  thundered down on top of him,  squashing the  breath  out  of him for mere moments before he threw her off with all his strength. To their mutual surprise, Bluestar bounced a fair few snake-lengths away.

“Interesting.” She purred as she rolled to her paws and shook the dust out of her grey coat. “I underestimated the power you held in your back legs. I thought for sure that I would squish you.” She chirped. “But you'd do well to use that move sparingly. Your opponents will often be far heavier than I. You certainly wouldn't have taken down Lionheart with that move.”

Firepaw tried to imagine Greypaw's larger-than-life golden mentor performing the move that Bluestar just did.

“Even Whitestorm would be squished.” He insisted, laughing.

“Indeed, now try something else.” Bluestar offered.

Slowly, he  crouched and began to creep toward Bluestar. She mirrored his  crouch and hissed tauntingly in  his  face  as  he  approached. He  raised  a  paw  and swiped  at  her left  ear. She ducked to  avoid his  strike  and reared  up, towering  over him.  Quickly Firepaw slithered beneath her body, and in  one  fast  movement,  raked a paw across her exposed stomach.  Bluestar  landed on all fours and Firepaw was  ecstatic! Had his claws been unsheathed, she'd have a large gash across her stomach from head to tail. Then  he  saw  Bluestar  panting heavily and for the  first  time  remembered  her wounds. Had he  reopened them? He stared at  her, and to  his  relief her eyes  glinted proudly back  at  him.

“Now where did you learn a move like that?” She purred, curious. “Did your dreams perhaps resemble a life before this one?” She asked. Firepaw nodded, stunned. Did she know where he'd come from?

“We must test the depth of your knowledge and train your body to act accordingly. For now, it’s  my  turn to attack you.”

She  sprang  at  him,  knocking  him  to  the  ground, then  retreated and let  him  pick  himself up before  leaping again. Firepaw  braced  himself, but  she  bowled him  over easily. She stood back and let him stumble to his paws.

“Keep in mind, young one, that you are not fully grown yet. Bracing yourself would keep you upright if you were closer to my size, but for now you must accommodate your own.”

Firepaw  scrabbled  to  his  feet  again, preparing  for her attack. This  time  he  didn’t  dig  his  paws  into  the soft  ground, but  stood lightly, keeping  his  weight  on his  toes. As  Bluestar  flew  toward him,  he  hopped neatly out  of her path, reared  up onto his hind legs, and pushed her flying  body onward past  him. Bluestar  landed gracefully  on all  four paws  and turned.

"Excellent!”  she  purred. “But  that  was  an  easy  move. Let’s  see  how  you deal  with  this  one.”

They  trained until  sunset. Firepaw  heaved  a  sigh  of relief when  he  heard Bluestar  meow,

“That’s  enough for  today.”  

She  seemed  a  little  tired  and  stiff  but  she  still leaped  easily  out  of  the  sandy hollow. Firepaw  scrambled after her. His  muscles  were  aching  and his  head  spinning  with  all  he  had learned. As they  trekked together  back  through the  trees,  he  couldn’t  wait  to  tell  Greypaw  and Ravenpaw  about  this training  session.

And she finally knows the truth! She knows to keep an eye out, even if she doesn't entirely believe me yet… here's hoping she doesn't go into as much of a tailspin this time.     

[lingeringchaosxstrikes]

Saving Papyrus

AAAAY it’s Fanfiction!

When the skele bros from Underfell arrive in the Undertale universe Papyrus makes it his mission to save Underfell Papyrus (Edge) from his wicked (and abusive) ways or die trying! Probably the latter. But he won't give up! Everyone can be a good person if they just try, right?

My crappy fanfic where I explore some of the ways in which the world can break a person and how people pick up their pieces. Pain and suffering, love and healing, complicated relationships, abuse, depression, good and evil, fluff and violence. Can even the worst person be saved? I can't afford therapy so this is mostly therapeutic writing (and to increase my writing skill) for me, but you're welcome to enjoy it too :)

Warnings: I'll get this out of the way now; Strong language, sibling abuse, child abuse, Some handplates inspiration, angst, violence, fluff. Accidental Fontcest. Unintentional slow burn. I think they are all tagged? This might change over time! Tags will be update

                              Chapter 1:  Handsome Imposters

                                                   sans

                                                    ***

If Sans never saw a flower again it would still be too soon. He held his ground as the buttercup hissed at him from the snow, fangs dripping.

“What do you want trashbag?” It greeted its little eyes narrowed. It hadn’t been easy, tracking the angry flora down. He had seen it following the human, and, more importantly, Papyrus had mentioned on more than one occasion about how wonderful his new ‘flower friend’ was. Sans couldn’t let that go unchecked. The human could handle themselves, but, Papyrus. . .

Yet it had been nearly impossible to find the stupid weed. Sans had spent more time and effort than he had on anything in his life (at least recently) looking for the little abomination of nature. Sans had been lucky, honestly, stumbling onto Flowey by the ruins just now and turning him blue on what had been a pleasantly planned trip to see the old lady. It was weird. He had meant to turn the flower’s soul blue, but the whole flower turned blue instead. Whatever, as long as the effect was working properly.  Flowey glowered up at him waiting for an answer.

“Well,  bud.  I can’t help but notice how you’ve been stalking the human,” Sans said with an easy smile.

“Puns? Really?” Flowey drawled, not looking impressed. “I’ve been watching the human, so what?”

“What’s got you so interested?” Sans asked sliding his hands out of his pocket.

“Well golly, friend! It’s not every day you see a human!” Flowey chirped with false cheer.

“Cut the act,” Sans said shoulders tensing.

“Gee Sans, what do you mean by that? Why, humans are so rare and interesting! We hardly ever see them down here!” Flowey exclaimed in an all too innocent voice. Sans rolled his eyelights. A smug smirk grew across the flower’s features. “You know, except when they’re killing all your loved ones over and over .”

Sans felt his left eye awaken with magic. Flowey laughed his annoying, maniacal laugh.

“Hit a nerve, did I smiley?”

Sans felt his permanent grin grow wider as the noise of his gaster baster materializing behind him reverberated around them. Flowey’s eyes widened.

“Wait!  Wait! I can’t res-”

The blaster’s maw opened wide as a stream of pure magical energy blasted at the flower. Even while blue the flower dove underground, the blast missing him. Apparently, there was something off with his blue spell. Great. A growl came from beneath Sans and a vine shot out lashing him across the face knocking him on his tailbone.

Sans yelped his eyelights going normal. He usually could dodge better than that. He had learned many resets ago that the flower was more powerful than he appeared, still, Sans could do better than that. He had to. For Papyrus.

Sans stood back up looking around. His blue spell had been disrupted by Flowey’s attack and he looked around waiting for the flower to dive up above ground like some demonic sea creature to continue the attack.

“SANS!”

Sans turned letting his shoulders relax seeing his brother jogging enthusiastically up to him.

“Hey bro,” Sans said easily.

"Sans! What has happened?" Sans winced as his brother all but picked him up standing before him, eyes slightly bulging.

"It's fine bro, tibia honest, it's just a flesh wound," Sans said his grin turning into a real one. The cut on his cheek leaked a few red drops of marrow. Sans brushed it away with his fist.

“Now is not the time for puns! You are clearly injured!” Papyrus’s hands were on his hips as he hovered over his older brother like a mother hen. San’s gave a lazy wink, sliding his hands back into his jacket pockets. Papyrus examined the jagged crack across his brother’s cheek.

“What happened?” Papyrus asked again, softer, removing a piece of monster candy from his pocket handing it to Sans. Sans sighed popping it into his mouth, feeling the warm tickle of healing magic as the crack faded. He hoped it wouldn’t scar. Truth be told, he was lucky to be alive. His memory was hazy these days, but he was pretty sure the flower was more than capable of dusting him and had at least once.  Was Sans just lucky or was the demented little weed holding back?

“I fell,” Sans said with a shrug. Papyrus’s eyes narrowed. Yeah, Sans wouldn’t believe himself either if he was Paps.

“Sans! You need to be more careful!” Papyrus scolded. Sans sighed with relief.

“I will bro,” Sans said with a tired smile.

“The great Papyrus cannot always be there to protect you! If you weren’t such a lazy bones you wouldn’t fall!”

Sans gave a soft chuckle not seeing how being lazy and falling correlated but he wasn’t going to argue. He closed his eyes as the last of the green warmth began to fade.

“SANS! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY FALLING ASLEEP!?”

“Nah Bro,” Sans said with a yawn. “I’m just resting with my eyes closed.”

“That’s sleeping! You sleep far too much!” Papyrus said with a huff.

Sans gave his brother a wink. “I guess you could say…”

“Sans, no!”

“I’m bone tired.”

“UGH!” Papyrus groaned. “Come on Sans, let's check the last few puzzles and head home,” Papyrus muttered and the pair of skeletons made there way back to Snowdin town, stopping to let Papyrus triple check the last few puzzles while Sans leaned against a tree making puns.

Why Papyrus even bothered to calibrate his puzzles anymore, Sans didn’t know. Frisk had left this morning for waterfall and Sans had enjoyed pranking him with the telescope. The look of confusion on the kid’s face as he appeared at his other stations was fantastic. He couldn’t wait to meet up with the kid in Hotland. In Sans’s opinion, there was no need for sentry duty in Snowdin anymore or puzzle calibrations.

Sans sleepily walked by his brother’s side his fingers tracing over the now healed bone. He didn’t like to lie to Papyrus, but, Paps didn’t need to know about that twisted little flower Sans had had a “conversation” with before his arrival. Something wasn’t right about that flower. He felt like there was something he was forgetting about it, like how he often forgot about Gas- no he wouldn’t think of him.

The flower knew about the resets. That much Sans remembered and his notes entailed. It followed the human, it had killed him at least once, and it wouldn’t leave his brother alone. The way it had hissed at him, and sliced bone with its vine, while blue even. . .That flower had better hope Sans wouldn’t run into it again.

“Whats going on?” Papyrus asked loudly causing Sans to pull away from his musings looking around. Denizens of the town were huddled in the center by the Gyftmas tree, all in a circle. The brothers walked closer, Papyrus craning his neck to see. As they broke through the circle they came upon a view of Doggo. He was panting harshly and blood stained the white snow around him. A deep gash was across his chest and Grillby of all monsters was knelt next to him his fire a green tinge from the effort of the healing magic pouring out of his flamed hands.

“What happened!?” Sans said as Papyrus gasped softly next to him.

“Doggo was attacked,” Dogaressa reported her ears drooping.

“What? By who?” Papyrus said, horrified. Sans swallowed hard. It couldn’t have been the kid, so who else would attack Doggo? He could hardly see.

“I the great Papyrus will not abide by such violence!”

“We’re not sure, he hasn’t said much,”Dogamy said. Doggo whimpered and mumbled something.

“What? Are you sure?” Dogamy said looking at Doggo in surprise. He turned back to Papyrus looking unsure. “He says you attacked him, Papyrus. Papyrus and Sans looked at Dogamy stunned. The townsfolk began talking amongst themselves and looking at the tall skeleton curiously.

“That’s ridiculous! Papyrus wouldn’t hurt anyone. Besides Doggo can’t even see,” Sans said crossing his arms raising a brow bone.

“ It was Papyrus!” Doggo said gruffly trying to sit up. “I was trying to help Sans and you-” Doggo yelped loudly in pain and Grillby pushed him gently back into the snow still focusing on his wounds. “I know his smell, I know his voice and I saw him move! Papyrus attacked me!” Doggo said after a moment and he yipped loudly again as Grillby moved his hands down on the wound. Sans frowned and looked at Papyrus who looked just as bewildered.

“Well you’re wrong. He’s been with me for the past twenty minutes and neither of us have seen you. That wound looks pretty fresh,” Sans said defensively.

“This can only mean one thing!” Papyrus said.

“You’re being framed?” Sans suggested.

“There’s an imposter on the loose!”

“We shall investigate into this!”Dogaressa stated, tail beginning to wag. Papyrus’s enthusiasm seemed to be spreading.

“WOOF!” Affirmed Greater dog.

“We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Agreed Dogamy.

“I know what I saw,” Doggo growled.

“Doggo’s blind as a bat and his nose is ruined from dog treats. It could've’ been anyone,” Sans said quickly. He didn’t know who did this, but he wasn’t going to let anyone else accuse Papyrus of such violence. At least no one else was blaming Papyrus besides Doggo. San’s tried to avert his eyes from Doggo. The wound placement and type hit a little bit more close to home then he’d like to admit.  

“I the great Papyrus shall not rest until I find this imposter and present him to the royal guard!” Papyrus yelled enthusiastically.

“But!” Doggo whined.

“Come on Sans!” Papyrus yelled and he ran forward to explore the town for potential imposters.

                                                 sans

                                                  red.

                                                  ***

Sans’s face was becoming uncomfortably intimate with the slush-filled ground.

“I-i’m sorry Boss!” Sans squirmed trying (and failing) to escape from the boot that was pressing down said skull into the ground.

“You. Fell. Asleep. Again.”

Sans groaned feeling like his skull was going to burst. Maybe it was. Maybe Boss had finally gone off the deep end and he was going to kill him. At least he wouldn’t be tired anymore, Sans thought closing his eyes. As the pressure increased a sharp spike of fear shot out of his soul. Dammit. So much for embracing the sweet embrace of death and all that shit.

“It was only for a s-second Boss, I swear!”

His younger brother growled above him.

“Then this is only going to hurt for a  second Sans.” Oh Sans did not like the sound of that. He squirmed under his brother’s foot and yelped as his brother grabbed his left arm.

“Don’t! Dont! I’m sorry Boss, please don’t-”

“Shut up! I told you what I’d do if I caught you sleeping at your station again!” Papyrus growled. Sans’s eyelights widened and he squirmed desperately trying to get away.

“Don’t!” Sans begged.

Papyrus dug his heel into his brother’s spine and grabbed gripped his ulna with both hands and began to bend it. Sans yelped loudly and Papyrus applied more pressure bending it further still.

“Ow fuck! No! Please no! Please, don’t break my arm Boss!” Sans yelled his one red eyelight turning white, his other eyelight appearing in the previously empty socket and both shrinking to tiny pin pricks. Sans dug his fingers into the snow. He had to get away. He had to. His soul was screaming at him to do something, anything to make Papyrus stop. He began teleporting just as there was a sickening CRACK.

Sans screamed as he lurched into the void his pain receptors firing off the deep end. He felt like he couldn’t breathe as his vision went completely white with pain.

“FUCK.  FUCK.” He howled, unshed tears filling his sockets. He snarled wrenching his arm trying to get it away, away from Papyrus- and that was when he realized they were in the void still.  It was too long. They shouldn't still be here. He hadn’t even meant to take Boss. Complete and utter darkness surrounded them, weighing on them, trying to get into they’re every crevice and curve.

“Sans!?” Papyrus’s voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard in this vast emptiness echoing for what seemed like forever.  Sans? Sans? Sans? A noise that didn’t belong here. Sans grit his teeth through the pain trying to focus. Papyrus was still gripping his broken arm, tightly, painfully and Sans cursed again. He needed to focus.

Go back.  Go back. they needed to get out, now. He closed his eyes trying to focus on Snowdin. Teleport. Come on. Snowdin. Now. Fuck!

A pair of purple eyes regarded them in the distance and Sans sucked in his breath they needed to go hom-- and they blipped back into existence, Sans back face down in the snow and Papyrus standing, no longer holding Sans down with his boot.

Sans howled as he ripped his broken arm out of Papyrus’s grasp holding it close to him. Sans growled and kicked Papyrus hard in the knee knocking the other skeleton onto his tailbone as he attempted to get his bearings from the sudden shift back into existence. Sans slumped to the ground groaning, staring at his arm. His ulna was cleanly snapped in half. Papyrus growled from the pile of snow Sans had kicked him into and Sans quickly crawled backward putting distance between them.

“You idiot! How dare you try to escape me!?” Papyrus stood up wiping snow off his armor, marching towards the smaller injured skeleton.

Fuck you, Asshole. You sadistic mother fucker. Is what Sans wanted to say. Instead, a whimper escaped him as he cradled his injured arm. Yeah. Real threatening Sans. That’ll put the fear of Asgore in him.

“ ‘M Sorry Boss,” Sans whispered. Papyrus raised his hand, likely to strike him when a bark made them both pause.

“Who’s there! Don’t move!” The two skeletons turned to see Doggo standing there hands on his hips, squinting, trying to see them. A dog treat was lit stuck in the corner of his mouth.

“Doggo, back to your post,” Papyrus snapped his red eyes going back to Sans. Sans simply stared at the half blind dog. What the fuck was he wearing? San’s thought in confusion. Where was his royal guard armor?

“Who’s there?” Doggo demanded walking closer. “Sans? That you?” The dog sniffed the air. “You’re hurt!” The dog said cocking his head to the side.  Sans felt his sockets widen, his one red eye returning the other socket going blank. Doggo always did have it out for him. Was the bastard really stupid enough to try to take advantage of Sans’s weakness with Papyrus standing right there?

“I said go back to your post!” Papyrus growled again, an edge to his voice that held no room for argument.

“It smells like tears and bone marrow,” Doggo said taking another step closer. Fuck. This guy was really going to try something, wasn’t he? Sans tried to stand up, to defend himself.

“I said back off!” Papyrus growled a red sharp bone appearing and it slashed it across Doggo’s form. Doggo yelped falling back, hp droplets spraying.  -50, -10, -5. Doggo whimpered and gave a hitched howl his ears flat. Sans checked him and sucked in the breath. When had Doggo’s HP gotten so low? Well low for Doggo anyway. He only had 5 HP left!  Papyrus raised the bone again and Sans wondered if he was going to finish him off. He had disobeyed two direct orders.

“Be grateful that we’ve lost so many guards already,” Papyrus growled and the bone disappeared in his grasp. Sans flinched as his brother’s gloved hand reached for him and grasped him by the back of his hoodie.

“B-boss?”

“Take us home.” Papyrus growled. Sans really did not want to teleport after getting stuck in the void like that, but that was a direct order from Boss. Sans didn’t need to be told twice. With a far less painful crack, this time the two of them fizzled out of the world and back in onto their lumpy green couch.

“Ugh, Fuck,” Sans groaned digging his sharpened claws into the arm of the couch. It did little to distract him from the pain.

“What the fuck is wrong with our rug?” Papyrus demanded. Sans, who could really, give a froggit’s ass about the rug was still cradling his damaged arm. The bone would have to be set and it was going to hurt. A lot.

“Huh?” Sans sighed and looked. Sans frowned. It was purple and green? What the fuck? What had happened to their black and red rug? Papyrus jumped to his feet and began inspecting the house.

“My axe is missing! And why the hell is the pet rock covered in sprinkles? What happened to the nails it usually eats? How is it supposed to get strong now!? AND WHY THE FUCK IS THERE A PORTRAIT OF A BONE? WHERE IS THE PORTRAIT OF THE WAR AGAINST THE HUMANS?” Sans winced as his brother stomped up the stairs, likely, to look for more changes. He heard a door slam and his brother literally screamed in rage. Whatever Papyrus had found in his room, Sans assumed, did not please him.  Heh.  It wasn’t funny, but Sans dissolved into laughs anyway.

Sans didn’t have long to enjoy his brother’s rage as the door opened. Who the fuck was stupid enough to enter their house!?

“B-Boss!” Sans yelled trying to summon his magic through the splitting pain in his goddamn arm.  His magic of course, hardly even sparked to life. Great.

“I’m sure we will find the imposters soon!” A loud and very familiar (and anxiety-inducing) voice stated as a tall skeleton in a ridiculous red and white costume walked in followed by a shorter skeleton with a blue hoodie, hands in his pockets. Sans felt his eyelight go out. What the actual fuck!?

                                                 sans

                                                   ***

“Sure we will, Bro,” Sans agreed lazily, “the impastas won’t know what hit em. They’ll really regretti running into the great-”

“Don’t fucking move!” A rough voice interrupted. Sans and Papyrus froze to see a very angry looking - well, he looked like Sans. Or a version of him. One eyelight was out the other was glowing red focused on both of them. He looked to be Sans’s mirror image. He was wearing a black fur coat with a red shirt underneath, black and white sneakers and to Sans’s surprise, he had a golden tooth. Papyrus gasped.

“Sans! He looks just like you!”

“I dunno Paps, you really think my mouth looks like a shark’s?” Sans inquired eyeing the sharpened teeth the other had before looking the monster up and down. Well, Sans thought to himself, Papyrus was right. There were  imposters on the loose.

“Shut up!” The other Sans growled and Papyrus stepped forward.

“SANS! He’s adorable!” Papyrus said and he actually picked the other Sans up from under his arms. The other Sans appeared too startled to resist, eyelights going out, and he looked absolutely frozen. Maybe even afraid. “So cute!” Papyrus all but cooed. The other Sans let out a gruff growl.

“Uh, Bro! Don’t do that!” Sans said sockets widening.

“Hello, angry imposter Sans!” Papyrus said happily.

“PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN!” The other Sans screamed flailing and thrashing like an enraged wild animal, his eyelight back and glowing red. The other Sans looked like he was about to bite Papyrus when all at once the other Sans screamed in pain going rigid. “FUCK! OW!”

“Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself jumping around?” Papyrus asked concern in his voice placing the smaller skeleton back down.

“Fuck- st-stay away from me!” The other Sans ordered backing away from them cradling his left arm against his chest.

“Sans! He’s hurt!” Papyrus said taking a step toward the imposter.

“Bro, wait,” Sans said quickly. Sans didn’t trust this imposter of himself, even if he was injured. Papyrus waved him off taking another step towards the angry doppleganger. A Row of red bones appeared in front of Papyrus. Papyrus froze in place looking perplexed.

“Boss!” The Sans imposter said sounding relieved. Sans turned sharply to see a very angry looking Papyrus. Or a very angry looking Papyrus imposter. The monster had dark red eyes, a deep scar over his right eye, and a battle body that looked about as sharp and unfriendly as the skeleton wearing it. He also was at least a foot taller than Papyrus.

Papyrus turned and stared at his clone. “Wowie! Sans! It’s another me!” Papyrus said seemingly completely oblivious to the murderous rage in his alter ego’s eyes.  Sans felt his magic stirring as his soul jumped anxiously in his ribcage. He didn’t like the way either of these imposters looked at all.

“Who the fuck are you two,” The Papyrus imposter growled. Next to Sans. his Papyrus gasped.

“Please, watch your language! I am the Great Papyrus, and this is my brother Sans,” Papyrus said without missing a beat. The Sans imposter made a strangled noise behind them, something between a laugh and a grunt.

“This is ridiculous,” The Papyrus imposter growled.

“May I ask your names? You certainly look a lot like my brother and I! Are they magical disguises? They are very cool.” Papyrus said with excitement.

“ I am Papyrus.This is Sans. And you two, are dead,” growled out the Papyrus imposter and a slew of bones appeared aimed at Sans and Papyrus with sharp jagged edges.

Chapter 2

[gadgetgirl71]

Amazon First Reads May 2021

Did you chosen your Amazon First Reads book for May? I only got around to choosing my Amazon First Reads book a few days ago. So her were last months choices and you can find out which book I chose.

Suspense

The Secrets of Us by Lucinda Berry, Pages: 271, Publication Date: 1 June 2021

Synopsis: Dangerously addictive, The Secrets of Us is a pulse-pounding exploration of a disturbed psyche and the bond between two sisters desperate to escape a troubled past.

Foster sisters Krystal and Nichole have always been there for each other, so when Nichole is committed to a psychiatric hospital after trying to kill her husband, Krystal drops everything to defend her.

Scarred by a hard upbringing, Nichole and Krystal managed to construct comfortable lives for themselves. Krystal became a respected lawyer, and Nichole was happily married to an architect—until Nichole starts raving that her husband isn’t her husband, believing that he’s an imposter.

Driven by fierce loyalty, Krystal starts asking questions, but she’s not sure she can bear the answers. Her investigation leads to the sisters’ dark shared past…to a horrible tragedy and a well-guarded lie that cemented their sisterly bond.

But that lie can’t kill the truth—the battered, gasping, clawing truth that’s coming for them both. Now Krystal and Nichole must both fight for the lives they’ve built before they’re consumed by the one they left behind.

Historical Fiction

The Girls in the Attic by Marius Gabriel, Pages: 351, Publication Date: 1 June 2021

Synopsis: The bestselling author of The Designer presents a sweeping story of blind faith, family allegiance and how love makes one man question everything he thought he knew.

Max Wolff is a committed soldier of the Reich. So when he is sent home wounded, only to discover that his mother is sheltering two young Jewish women in their home, he is outraged.

His mother’s act of mercy is a gross betrayal of everything Max stands for. He has dedicated his life to Nazism, fighting to atone for the shame of his anti-Hitler father’s imprisonment. It’s his duty to turn the sisters over to the Gestapo. But he hesitates, and the longer Max fails to do his duty, the harder it becomes.

When Allied bombers fill the skies of Germany, Max is forced to abandon all dogma and face the brutality of war in order to defend precious lives. But what will it cost him?

Mystery

Beneath Devil’s Bridge by Loreth Ann White, Pages: 344, Publication Date: 1 June 2021

Synopsis: A true crime podcast yields new revelations about a shocking murder in a riveting novel of suspense by Washington Post and Amazon Charts bestselling author Loreth Anne White.

True crime podcaster Trinity Scott is chasing breakout success, and her brand-new serial may get her there. Her subject is Clayton Jay Pelley. More than two decades ago, the respected family man and guidance counsellor confessed to the brutal murder of teenage student Leena Rai. But why he killed her has always been a mystery.

In a series of exclusive interviews from prison, Clayton discloses to Trinity the truth about what happened that night beneath Devil’s Bridge. It’s not what anyone in the Pacific Northwest town of Twin Falls expects. Clayton says he didn’t do it. Was he lying then? Or now?

As her listeners increase and ratings skyrocket, Trinity is missing a key player in the story: Rachel Walczak, the retired detective who exposed Pelley’s twisted urges and put him behind bars. She’s not interested in playing Clayton’s game—until Trinity digs deeper and the podcast’s reverb widens. Then Rachel begins to question everything she thinks she knows about the past.

With each of Clayton’s teasing reveals, one thing is clear: he’s not the only one in Twin Falls with a secret.

Contemporary Fiction

These Tangled Vines by Julianne MacLean, Pages: 302, Publication Date: 1 June 2021

Synopsis: From the USA Today bestselling author of A Curve in the Road comes a sweeping and captivating tale of one woman’s journey to the lush vineyards of Tuscany—and into the mysteries of a tragic family secret.

If Fiona has learned anything in life, it’s how to keep a secret—even from the father who raised her. She is the only person who knows about her late mother’s affair in Tuscany thirty years earlier, and she intends to keep it that way…until a lawyer calls with shocking news: her biological father has died and left her an incredible inheritance—along with two half siblings.

Fiona travels to Italy, where the family is shocked to learn of her existence and desperate to contest her share of the will. While the mystery of her mother’s affair is slowly unravelled, Fiona must navigate through tricky family relationships and tense sibling rivalries. Fiona both fears and embraces her new destiny as she searches for the truth about the fateful summer her mother spent in Italy and the father she never knew.

Spilling over with the sumptuous flavours and romance of Tuscany, These Tangled Vines takes readers on a breath taking journey of love, secrets, sacrifice, courage—and most importantly, the true meaning of family.

Domestic Thriller

The Darkest Flower by Kristin Wright, Pages: 296, Publication Date: 1 June 2021

Synopsis: You’ll never believe the terrible things being said about the perfect president of the PTA.

Attempted murder? Inexplicable accident? Either way, a PTA mom struggled for her life in an elementary school cafeteria, poisoned by a wolfsbane-laced smoothie at the fifth-grade graduation party. Now all eyes are on the accused, the victim, and a woman hired to look deeper.

Ambitious defence attorney and single mother Allison Barton is anxious to escape the shadow of the low-down dog of a marquee partner carrying their renowned Virginia law firm. A win for her high-profile new client will give Allison the career she deserves. And PTA president Kira Grant certainly appears innocent—except for the toxic bloom in her backyard and perhaps a bit of a malicious streak. But no one said the innocent had to be likable—or entirely honest. Besides, with an image as carefully cultivated as her garden, Kira would be insane to risk everything on something as outrageous as the attempted murder of one of her closest friends.

What about those in Kira’s orbit, a sunny suburb of moms behaving badly? What do they really know about Kira? What does Kira know about them? For Allison, the answers are getting darker every day.

Family Drama

Like Wind Against Rock by Nancy Kim, Pages: 217, Publication Date: 1 June 2021

Synopsis: A novel of explosive family secrets, regret, and all the little decisions that shape our lives and make us who we are.

At the age of thirty-nine, Alice Chang suddenly finds herself living in the last place she expected: her mother’s house. But in the face of divorce, eviction, and the recent death of her father, she doesn’t have a choice.

Watching as her mother thrives in a new job and meets younger men at the local gym, Alice struggles, reflecting on her parents’ marriage, her relationship with each of them, as she adjusts to being single again for the first time in twenty years. Then she finds her father’s old journal…and uncovers a shocking family secret that forces her to question everything she thought she knew about love, regret, family, and her own path forward.

As Alice comes to terms with the man her father really was, she must finally decide who she wants to be and what it will take to get there.

Contemporary Romance

The Checklist by Addie Woolridge, Pages: 347, Publication Date: 1 June 2021

Synopsis: In an energetic debut novel about personal and professional chaos, author Addie Woolridge introduces a multicultural cast whose exploits are redefining the modern rom-com.

Killing it at work? Check. Gorgeous boyfriend? Check. Ambitions derailed by an insecure boss? Sigh—check.

Things were going a little too well for Dylan Delacroix. After upstaging her boss on a big account, she gets dispatched to the last place she wants to be: her hometown, Seattle. There, she must use her superstar corporate-consulting skills to curb the worst impulses of an impossibly eccentric tech CEO—if she doesn’t, she’s fired.

The fun doesn’t stop there: Dylan must also negotiate a ceasefire in the endless war between her bohemian parents and the straitlaced neighbours’. Adding to the chaos is a wilting relationship with her boyfriend and a blossoming attraction to the neighbours’ smoking-hot son.

Suddenly Dylan has a million checklists, each a mile long. As personal and professional pressures mount, she finds it harder and harder to stay on track. Having always relied on her ability to manage the world around her, Dylan’s going to need a new plan. She may be down, but she’s definitely not out.

Fantasy

Bacchanal by Veronica G Henry, Pages: 347, Publication Date: 1 June 2021

Synopsis: Evil lives in a traveling carnival roaming the Depression-era South. But the carnival’s newest act, a peculiar young woman with latent magical powers, may hold the key to defeating it. Her time has come.

Abandoned by her family, alone on the wrong side of the colour line with little to call her own, Eliza Meeks is coming to terms with what she does have. It’s a gift for communicating with animals. To some, she’s a magical tender. To others, a she-devil. To a talent prospector, she’s a crowd-drawing oddity. And the Bacchanal Carnival is Eliza’s ticket out of the swamp trap of Baton Rouge.

Among fortune-tellers, carnies, barkers, and folks even stranger than herself, Eliza finds a new home. But the Bacchanal is no ordinary carnival. An ancient demon has a home there too. She hides behind an iridescent disguise. She feeds on innocent souls. And she’s met her match in Eliza, who’s only beginning to understand the purpose of her own burgeoning powers.

Only then can Eliza save her friends, find her family, and fight the sway of a primordial demon preying upon the human world. Rolling across a consuming dust bowl landscape, Eliza may have found her destiny.

Memoir

The Puma Years by Laura Coleman, Pages: 298, Publication Date: 1 June 2021

Synopsis: In this rapturous memoir, writer and activist Laura Coleman shares the story of her liberating journey in the Amazon jungle, where she fell in love with a magnificent cat who changed her life.

Laura was in her early twenties and directionless when she quit her job to backpack in Bolivia. Fate landed her at a wildlife sanctuary on the edge of the Amazon jungle where she was assigned to a beautiful and complex puma named Wayra. Wide-eyed, inexperienced, and comically terrified, Laura made the scrappy, make-do camp her home. And in Wayra, she made a friend for life.

They weren’t alone, not with over a hundred quirky animals to care for, each lost and hurt in their own way: a pair of suicidal, bra-stealing monkeys, a frustrated parrot desperate to fly, and a pig with a wicked sense of humour. The humans too were cause for laughter and tears. There were animal whisperers, committed staff, wildly devoted volunteers, handsome heartbreakers, and a machete-wielding prom queen who carried Laura through. Most of all, there was the jungle—lyrical and alive—and there was Wayra, who would ultimately teach Laura so much about love, healing, and the person she was capable of becoming.

Set against a turbulent and poignant backdrop of deforestation, the illegal pet trade, and forest fires, The Puma Years explores what happens when two desperate creatures in need of rescue find one another.

So my choice for May was: The Girls in the Attic.

[kickingitwithkirk]

A Kiss Upon Your Shoulder

Pairing: Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Trouble Lacroix (OFC)

WC:3536

Warnings: 18 + only: kissing, humping M/F, intercourse, cursing, mention of addiction, angst

A/N: For @saxxxology #saxxxology vol.1 writing challenge

I was originally to post this on Dec 31, 2019 but lost my internet for several days. I apologize for the delay- Country living and winter in the South don’t mix.

SONG PROMPT: Off My Mind-my favorite on the album

A/N: Set season 14 during Dean Winchester's possession by Apocalypse World’s Micheal. Timeline extended and some events altered from series. I borrowed title from song lyrics.

*no beta- all mistakes are mine.

*GIF not mine

The sound of the bunker door closing reverberates through the room. Several of the hunters around the map table stop what they're doing to watch an unusually tall Omega with long, smoky pink hair braided in a loose plait and wearing hunters garb descending the metal staircase halting at the bottom.

Sam Winchester’s sitting at the far end of the table alternating between his phone receiving updates from hunters out in the field and the laptop looking for clues in the search for Dean while strategizing with Mary and Bobby their next move froze disbelieving his eyes.

“Sammy,” the Omega hesitantly says, her lightly accented voice startles him out of his stupor.

Batten down the hatches Sammy boy, Trouble just done walked back into my life… Dean used those exact words years ago introducing him to this Omega, never knowing how true they would turn out to be.

But not for him.

Sam's eyes shift into a fiery glow as his inner Alphas outrage surfaces at this imposter trying to pass itself as his long gone Omega.

“What fucking game are you playing at?” Sam gets up growling, stalking towards her pulling his demon blade.

“Sam wait!” Mary hollers at her youngest son knowing all too well the damage Sam can inflict under normal circumstances but in the state of extreme stress he’s currently under she doesn’t want him to do anything he’ll regret.

The Apocalypse World hunters glance at each other perplexed having never seen an enraged Alpha unsure what they should do.

After their arrival to this reality Sam gave them a crash course on life here, including the multiple genders of humans, Alpha/Beta/Omega, their confusing hierarchies and how they relate to each other. The Alpha/Omega intricacies and nuances were still hard for them to comprehend since all of them were Betas.

The Omega cast her eyes down in deference to the large Alpha. “I'm here abo...” she doesn't finish speaking as he wraps his hand around her throat, slamming her back against a support column. She seizes his wrist as her eyes snap up meeting his glaring back before tilting her head as far as she can to the right exposing more of her throat.

Sam cautiously leans in, running his nose along her neck. The unique scent of winter, perceptible only to the Alpha under the scent blockers she’s used triggers memories he’s diligently repressed to keep this Omega off his mind come flooding back. The blade clatters loudly on the floor in the now silent room.

Wrapping his arms around her nuzzling into the curve of her neck he sucks on that spot he knows drives her crazy. Biting her lip she tangles her fingers in his long hair drawing him back up, running her tongue over his lips seeking entrance that he grants swirling his tongue around hers.

Someone's wolf whistling snaps them out of acting couple newly presented teens caught by their parents being very naughty.

“Hmm, not sorry,”  she whispers nibbling on Sam’s ear making him quiver.

“Behave,” Sam mutters back taking a deep breath and subtlety adjusting himself before turning around to deal with everyone's reactions, not really ready to answer the inevitable questions.

Scenting his anxiety she twines their hands together offering a reassuring squeeze.

They’ve drawn quite a large audience from the library and adjoining hallways. People are elbowing each other grinning, whispering among themselves about their Chiefs and strange woman's reactions to each other then necking in front of everyone.

Mary stands there, arms crossed with the patented mom’s not amused look.

Sam huffs out an embarrassed laugh. “Everyone this is Trouble Lacroix, she’s my...she's an old friend.”

“I’m just an old friend after everything I went through for you?” Trouble snaps and Sam growls a warning at her tone but fuck it, she was right.

When Dean introduced them they were both junkies. Sam drugs of choice were demon blood and the power it gave him. Trouble’s was whatever made her forget her hunter fathers dominance over her as an Omega.

By the time they both got clean Sam found he could love again and she had learned to trust the Alpha in him wouldn't hurt her like others had. Sam swore during his next rut he would claim her as his Omega.

A week before he said yes to Lucifer and the subsequent showdown at Stull Cemetery he went into rut.

At their secret rendezvous, an old hunters cabin in Arkansas with his rut over Sam hadn’t claimed her, saying he couldn’t damn her, that this was his last chance to, unlike Jess, save her from certain death.

Trouble stood at the cabins window overlooking a small lake silently crying, unable to respond. The Alpha scented her sadness wanted nothing more than to comfort his Omega but all he could do was to kiss her shoulder, as he’d always done before leaving that last time.

Almost a decade later Sam can see the damage his refusals done in her sorrowful eyes.

“You kiss all your old friends like that?” Bobby quipped sarcastically eliciting a few laughs and breaking some of the tension.

“You look like Bobby Singer but you...resonate all wrong,” Trouble remarks as her light colored eyes surveys the others in the room finally coming to rest on Jack. “A Nephilim without Grace?”

“Yes, he is,” Mary answers crossing over to stand next to Jack, “how can you know that?”

Trouble shrugs “I’ve always been able to perceive things that are outside the normal spectrum.”

“You can what?” Maggie asks confused.

“The Omega can see that you’re out of tune with this reality,” Castiel states tipping his head to the side studying her, “she also possess other abilities.”

“I don’t need them to see your a dick.”

“Trouble,” Sam warns knowing she’d picked that up from Dean.

“Sorry, Angel of the Lord.” She half ass apologizes.

“And you suddenly show up here out of nowhere because?” Mary tersely inquires in her Alpha voice. Sam bristles unhappy that another Alpha, even his own mother, thinks they can question the Omega.

Releasing Sam’s hand she steps closer to Mary taking the same stance staring her straight in the eye. “I’ve seen Dean.”

Trouble tells them everything about her encounter with Dean in Nova Scotia, where she’s been the last two months.

They question is why he let her live when he’s killed others he has had contact with, another piece in a puzzle not making sense.

Sam asks her to stay but she turns him down, telling him it's safer for her to keep moving. He counters what better place is there for protection than in the heavily warded bunker?

She reluctantly agrees but only until Dean returns.

Mary makes it vehemently clear it’s problematic having an unclaimed Omega stay.

Sam reminds his mother that he is a mature Alpha, been making his own decisions without her input his whole life and with the daily suppressants he’s taken for years can control his instincts.

That got Mary’s back up, ready to argue with her youngest son, reminding him the Omegas already made the unmated Alpha act out. Bobby pulls her to the side and somehow he convinces her that the Omegas will be an assist in finding Dean. She doesn’t like but relents. Trouble is to stay in Dean's room, his Beta scent will help cover hers more to mollify Sam and a physical space between them for Mary.

**********

Sam's frustrations over having not found Dean yet and his personal anxieties were intermittently fluctuating. The stresses he’s under, hardly eating, barely sleeping a couple hours a day while keeping track of people out on cases and  figuring out how to help Jack adapt to not having his powers. Then there’s Nick, the mere mention of his name makes Sam shudder, let alone the traumatic physical and emotional memories dredged up by their face to face interactions.

Thankfully, there hadn’t been any real drama between Mary and Trouble. They’ve avoided each other as much as possible in the bunker.

It was really late or early, depending on how one looked at it, and Sam was still setting in the quiet library, waiting for the last couple of hunters to check in. “Sam, you’ve been here for hours, go to bed.” Trouble softly remarks as she walks up behind him gently running her fingers through his hair.

Sam closes his eyes enjoying her touch. “Just waiting on Maggie and Sharon to check in then I'll go.”

She snorts snagging his phone when it sounds, “Who you lying to? OK, their at the one star for the night, everyone's accounted for.” Sam reaches for his phone and she dodges typing before handing it back and walking off.

“Cas is what...the hell that’s happening!” Sam gets up going after her.

“Bobby’s idea so go bitch to him mister ‘cause technically your off duty for the next twenty-four hours.” Trouble says unintimidated with him following her fuming, “Your exhausted Sam, you need a break so quit fighting and let us help.”

She stops at the shower-room door. “First, go bathe, you reek Alpha, then meet me in your room.” Sam goes from pissed off to aroused in three seconds. Trouble scents him, “Yeah right, it’s Netflix and chill...” She remarks them gives him a mischievous grin sashaying off.

Sam had been making courting overtures towards her, even though they were on a time limit, hoping he'd be awake long enough to make the most of this opportunity.

After the much needed shower Sam heads to his room in nothing but a low slung towel tosses it with his clothes into the dirty laundry hamper. Trouble came in carrying a tray of food locking the door behind her stops, inhaling sharply at the view of a completely naked Sam. He shivers as her eyes rove over him.

Sam’s not as bulked up as he was a decade ago, a leaner version still possessing a well defined upper body leading down to his flat stomach, the sharp v of his hips and those long legs. And between those legs...Swallowing hard and flushed Trouble moves setting the tray down on his bedside table as he hastily pulls on sweats and a grey t-shirt.

“Your three episodes behind in that series, figured you might want to watch it.” Trouble says grabbing his laptop and crawling onto his bed pulling up what he had been watching. “Have you seen it?” He asks sitting next to her.

“No, first your gonna eat,’ she gestures towards the tray with tomato rice soup, crackers and fruit, “then you can catch me up.”

By episode three Sam had eaten everything on the tray, brushed his teeth and was sacked out. Trouble shut the laptop down and placed it on the desk.

Turning out all the lights but a bedside one she slips back in next to Sam picking up the book she brought from the library. She’d been reading for awhile when Sam rolls over in his sleep, one leg landing between hers, arm draped across her waist and his head on her shoulder nuzzling into her neck murmuring, “back in my bed.”

As consciousness slowly filtered through the haze of extended sleep two things simultaneously get Sam’s attention, the cool scent of the Omega he’s spooning and his morning wood trapped between them.

“Must’a been a good dream,” Trouble yawns rolling onto her stomach, the sheet sliding down reliving her long legs and lower cheeks peeking out under her oversized T-shirt burying her head in the pillow mumbling “I was gonna leave after you fell asleep.”

Running a hand up the back of her thighs he pushes till she parts her legs far enough for him to touch her outer folds feeling how wet she already is before slipping two fingers into her tight channel. Trouble moans as he them slides deeper, making her wriggle against the mattress seeking friction against her clit. Sam crawls over wedging a knee between hers.

“Sam..we..sho..shouldn’t.”

Pulling his fingers out Sam moves straddling her legs, pinning them closed as he sits on her thighs stroking himself, using her slick as lubricant. Grasping her hips he starts rutting his cock between her ass cheeks.

Grunting, Sam shifts picks up momentum and with her under him, even like this, knows he’s not gonna last long. “Fuc..fuck Trouble..gonna cum…” Sam jerks back fisting his cock rapidly, cumming on her before falling forward and catches himself with one hand next to her, breathing hard. With his other hand Sam runs his fingers through his spending's rubbing it across her back.

Trouble pushes up onto her elbows looking back at him, “Dude, are you scent marking me?”

“Maybe.” Sam replies with a smug smile.

“So gross, Alpha.”

**********

Sam was beyond frustrated and feeling sick on his drive back from Atlanta. The rumored sighting of Dean end up being a bust, another one of those crazies he’s sick of wasting his time chasing. Switching off the radio that's making his headache pound harder making him wish he was home already.

Trouble, utilizing her abilities, was able to help eliminate some of bogus reports. Unfortunately, when any of them got to close, Dean disappeared.

The last time she had him, he created some kind of feedback knocking her unconscious. Cas checked her over, telling Sam she would be fine.

When she woke up Trouble tells them she’s seeing Dean doing strange experimentation on different types of monsters using Archangel Grace and it scares the hell out of her.

That was Sam’s breaking point. He stormed through the bunker in full Alpha mode from the infirmary to Deans room, packed her duffel and hauled it to his room. Even Mary knew better than to get in his way this time.

Sam couldn’t get her off his mind anymore now he had her back in his bed. She allowed him hold her whenever they slept together but wouldn’t permit anything else since that morning.

The Lebanon City Limits sign was a welcome sight. Sam was sweating, shaky and just wanting to get home.

He arrived at the bunker wondering what the hell he had caught. Mary greeted him with a hug and frowned catching his scent. Sam played it off, saying the Beta who had one too many hits of the brown acid was ill and he must have caught it.

Another hunter handed him a bowl of soup and bad news about some gypsy vamps attaching truckers. He had them set up checkpoints and sat down to hack the traffic cams. Mary gripped his arm concerned as he’s typing but he says he‘s good. She didn't believe him but doesn’t push knowing he wasn't gonna stop.

Six hours later as he left Nicks room he felt a massive surge go through him, no longer able to ignore what was wrong and it was his own damn fault.

Sam had forgotten his suppressants and for the first time in years was going into rut. He made it to the end of the hall before passing out.

**********

Cas had been by his friends bedside since Sam was found unconscious in one of the hallways days ago. He had been able to temporarily bring Sam's fever down and gave him sedatives to help him rest but with his age not being mated and having gone years without a rut his biology was demanding only cure, his chosen Omega.

Cas had called the Omega only getting her voicemail, left a message and began sending multiple texts.

He explained to Bobby that Mary had to leave the bunker, not only for her safety but the Betas also living there, unsure of how Sam will react to having another Alpha present when his Omega returned. Bobby found a case in Oregon that would occupy them for at least a week.

So Cas continued to do the only thing he could and watches over his friend.

**********

Sam woke groggy from the sedatives to the strong scent of an Omega in heat pulling him to full consciousness.

Rolling onto his side he finds Trouble lying next to him naked, covered in a light sheen of sweat fitfully sleeping.

Moving to spoon her from behind he grips one leg hooking it over his rocking  his hips sliding his engorged cock through her dripping folds, Half asleep she whimpers pulling out of his grip, drawing both legs to her chest. Rumbling in discontent Sam scoots behind her again, lines up and buries himself in her tight heat making her moan with pleasure, her cunt stretching around him.

Sam pulls out and hauls Trouble onto her hands and knees spreading her legs wide and sinks back in till his hips are flush against her ass. Feeling her relax around him Sam grasps her waist so tight bruises already forming and growling at the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her slick cunt he starts pounding his hips rapidly.

Trouble reaches out grabbing the headboard to stop Sam from shoving her into it since he has six inches and nearly seventy pounds on her and is running on his instinct to mate.

Sam's knot starts to swell he continues thrusting wildly wrenches her hips up, forcing her to arch her back more as he grunts ramming the now fully engorged knot into her cunt locking them together and falls over her back, rolling his hips as she clenches him cumming.

Sam pushes himself back upright seizes a fistful of her hair pulls till she is flush to chest, biting deeply into her neck making Trouble cum again loudly.

As they counterbalance each other Sam runs his tongue over his mark cleaning off the blood he’s drawn, helping the wound to seal up faster before shifting to lay them down on the mattress. Feeling the tug of his knot Trouble clenches around him again, sending another orgasm rippling through Sam, releasing more of his seed into her.

Trembling from exertion Sam wraps his arms around Trouble, keeping her close, finally able to call her his Omega and gently placed a kiss upon her shoulder.

**********

“It's just every time I think about ya know its a..its like a nightmare. I can't eat, can't sleep, it’s always just there watching.” Dean bitched as they’re walking through the hallways.

“Dean, it’s just a beard, I’ve been a little busy lately” Sam remarks back exasperated and relived to have his brother back giving him a hard time.

“Yeah well, that’s not an excuse ya know, ‘cause a.. Duck Dynasty called and they just they want it all back.”

“Some people say I look good.” Sam proudly states almost telling him why he’s really kept it.

“No..no Sam, no people say that.” Dean shakes his head.

“Duck Dynasty is a step up from Dr. Sexy,” Dean turns to counter that insult disbelieving his eyes like Sam did weeks ago.

Trouble’s leaning against the wall now sporting her natural titian tresses that rival Rowena's.

“Good to have you back Dean,” She says giving him a hug, “and I like the beard.” Walking over to Sam she pushes him against the wall wantonly kissing in front of Dean.

Breathless, Sam touches his forehead against hers running his fingers along the flannels front, “I was looking for this shirt the other day ‘mega.”

“Hmm, my bad, suppose I need to be punished Alpha.” She teasingly remakes biting her lip. Sam purrs low in his chest as he slides the shirt off her shoulders.

“You’re back together?” Dean blurts out interrupting them.

Sam turns pulling Trouble with him, her back against his chest and movie her hair to reveal his mark.

Dean looks between them “Fucking took you long enough Sammy,” he snaps turning to continue down the hallway grumbling, “there better not be any more surprises.”

Nuzzling her neck he inhales the new honey-vanilla scent mixing with her naturally cooler one.

Sam reaches down tenderly placing his large hands protectively over her womb where their surprise is resting and kisses her shoulder.

[kickingitwithkirk]

A Kiss Upon Your Shoulder

Pairing: Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Trouble Lacroix (OFC)

WC:3536

Warnings: 18 + only: kissing, humping M/F, intercourse, cursing, mention of addiction,  angst

A/N: For @saxxxology   #saxxxology vol.1 writing challenge

I was originally to post this on Dec 31, 2019 but lost my internet for several days. I apologize for the delay- Country living and winter in the South don’t mix.

SONG PROMPT: Off My Mind-my favorite on the album

A/N: Set season 14  during Dean Winchester's possession by Apocalypse World’s Micheal. Timeline extended and some events altered from series. I borrowed title from song lyrics.

*no beta- all mistakes are mine.

*GIF not mine

The sound of the bunker door closing reverberates through the room. Several of the hunters around the map table stop what they're doing to watch an unusually tall Omega with long, smoky pink hair braided in a loose plait and wearing hunters garb descending the metal staircase halting at the bottom.

Sam Winchester’s sitting at the far end of the table alternating between his phone receiving updates from hunters out in the field and the laptop looking for clues in the search for Dean while strategizing with Mary and Bobby their next move froze disbelieving his eyes.

“Sammy,” the Omega hesitantly says, her lightly accented voice startles him out of his stupor.

Batten down the hatches Sammy boy, Trouble just done walked back into my life… Dean used those exact words years ago introducing him to this Omega, never knowing how true they would turn out to be.  

But not for him.

Sam's eyes shift into a fiery glow as his inner Alphas outrage surfaces at this imposter trying to pass itself as his long gone Omega.

“What fucking game are you playing at?” Sam gets up growling, stalking towards her pulling his demon blade.

“Sam wait!” Mary hollers at her youngest son knowing all too well the damage Sam can inflict under normal circumstances but in the state of extreme stress he’s currently under she doesn’t want him to do anything he’ll regret.

The Apocalypse World hunters glance at each other perplexed having never seen an enraged Alpha unsure what they should do.

After their arrival to this reality Sam gave them a crash course on life here, including the multiple genders of humans, Alpha/Beta/Omega, their confusing hierarchies and how they relate to each other. The Alpha/Omega intricacies and nuances were still hard for them to comprehend since all of them were Betas.

The Omega cast her eyes down in deference to the large Alpha. “I'm here abo...” she doesn't finish speaking as he wraps his hand around her throat, slamming her back against a support column. She seizes his wrist as her eyes snap up meeting his glaring back before tilting her head as far as she can to the right exposing more of her throat.

Sam cautiously leans in, running his nose along her neck. The unique scent of winter, perceptible only to the Alpha under the scent blockers she’s used triggers memories he’s diligently repressed to keep this Omega off his mind come flooding back. The blade clatters loudly on the floor in the now silent room.

Wrapping his arms around her nuzzling into the curve of her neck he sucks on that spot he knows drives her crazy. Biting her lip she tangles her fingers in his long hair drawing him back up, running her tongue over his lips seeking entrance that he grants swirling his tongue around hers.

Someone's wolf whistling snaps them out of acting couple newly presented teens caught by their parents being very naughty.

“Hmm, not sorry,” she whispers nibbling on Sam’s ear making him quiver.

“Behave,” Sam mutters back taking a deep breath and subtlety adjusting himself before turning around to deal with everyone's reactions, not really ready to answer the inevitable questions.

Scenting his anxiety she twines their hands together offering a reassuring squeeze.

They’ve drawn quite a large audience from the library and adjoining hallways. People are elbowing each other grinning, whispering among themselves about their Chiefs and strange woman's reactions to each other then necking in front of everyone.

Mary stands there, arms crossed with the patented mom’s not amused look.

Sam huffs out an embarrassed laugh. “Everyone this is Trouble Lacroix, she’s my...she's an old friend.”

“I’m just an old friend after everything I went through for you?” Trouble snaps and Sam growls a warning at her tone but fuck it, she was right.

When Dean introduced them they were both junkies. Sam drugs of choice were demon blood and the power it gave him. Trouble’s was whatever made her forget her hunter fathers dominance over her as an Omega.

By the time they both got clean Sam found he could love again and she had learned to trust the Alpha in him wouldn't hurt her like others had. Sam swore during his next rut he would claim her as his Omega.

A week before he said yes to Lucifer and the subsequent showdown at Stull Cemetery he went into rut.

At their secret rendezvous, an old hunters cabin in Arkansas with his rut over Sam hadn’t claimed her, saying he couldn’t damn her, that this was his last chance to, unlike Jess, save her from certain death.

Trouble stood at the cabins window overlooking a small lake silently crying, unable to respond. The Alpha scented her sadness wanted nothing more than to comfort his Omega but all he could do was to kiss her shoulder, as he’d always done before leaving that last time.

Almost a decade later Sam can see the damage his refusals done in her sorrowful eyes.

“You kiss all your old friends like that?” Bobby quipped sarcastically eliciting a few laughs and breaking some of the tension.

“You look like Bobby Singer but you...resonate all wrong,” Trouble remarks as her light colored eyes surveys the others in the room finally coming to rest on Jack. “A Nephilim without Grace?”

“Yes, he is,” Mary answers crossing over to stand next to Jack, “how can you know that?”

Trouble shrugs “I’ve always been able to perceive things that are outside the normal spectrum.”

“You can what?” Maggie asks confused.

“The Omega can see that you’re out of tune with this reality,” Castiel states tipping his head to the side studying her, “she also possess other abilities.”

“I don’t need them to see your a dick.”

“Trouble,” Sam warns knowing she’d picked that up from Dean.

“Sorry, Angel of the Lord.” She half ass apologizes.

“And you suddenly show up here out of nowhere because?” Mary tersely inquires in her Alpha voice. Sam bristles unhappy that another Alpha, even his own mother, thinks they can question the Omega.

Releasing Sam’s hand she steps closer to Mary taking the same stance staring her straight in the eye. “I’ve seen Dean.”

Trouble tells them everything about her encounter with Dean in Nova Scotia, where she’s been the last two months.

They question is why he let her live when he’s killed others he has had contact with, another piece in a puzzle not making sense.

Sam asks her to stay but she turns him down, telling him it's safer for her to keep moving. He counters what better place is there for protection than in the heavily warded bunker?

She reluctantly agrees but only until Dean returns.

Mary makes it vehemently clear it’s problematic having an unclaimed Omega stay.

Sam reminds his mother that he is a mature Alpha, been making his own decisions without her input his whole life and with the daily suppressants he’s taken for years can control his instincts.

That got Mary’s back up, ready to argue with her youngest son, reminding him the Omegas already made the unmated Alpha act out. Bobby pulls her to the side and somehow he convinces her that the Omegas will be an assist in finding Dean. She doesn’t like but relents. Trouble is to stay in Dean's room, his Beta scent will help cover hers more to mollify Sam and a physical space between them for Mary.

**********

Sam's frustrations over having not found Dean yet and his personal anxieties were intermittently fluctuating. The stresses he’s under, hardly eating, barely sleeping a couple hours a day while keeping track of people out on cases and  figuring out how to help Jack adapt to not having his powers. Then there’s Nick, the mere mention of his name makes Sam shudder, let alone the traumatic physical and emotional memories dredged up by their face to face interactions.

Thankfully, there hadn’t been any real drama between Mary and Trouble. They’ve avoided each other as much as possible in the bunker.

It was really late or early, depending on how one looked at it, and Sam was still setting in the quiet library, waiting for the last couple of hunters to check in. “Sam, you’ve been here for hours, go to bed.” Trouble softly remarks as she walks up behind him gently running her fingers through his hair.

Sam closes his eyes enjoying her touch. “Just waiting on Maggie and Sharon to check in then I'll go.”

She snorts snagging his phone when it sounds, “Who you lying to? OK, their at the one star for the night. Everyone's accounted for.” Sam reaches for his phone and she dodges typing before handing it back and walking off.

“Cas is what...the hell that’s happening!” Sam gets up going after her.

“Bobby’s idea so go bitch to him mister ‘cause technically your off duty for the next twenty-four hours.” Trouble says unintimidated with him following her fuming, “Your exhausted Sam, you need a break so quit fighting and let us help.”

She stops at the shower-room door. “First, go bathe, you reek Alpha, then meet me in your room.” Sam goes from pissed off to aroused in three seconds. Trouble scents him, “Yeah right, it’s Netflix and chill...” She remarks them gives him a mischievous grin sashaying off.

Sam had been making courting overtures towards her, even though they were on a time limit, hoping he'd be awake long enough to make the most of this opportunity.

After the much needed shower Sam heads to his room in nothing but a low slung towel tosses it with his clothes into the dirty laundry hamper. Trouble came in carrying a tray of food locking the door behind her stops, inhaling sharply at the view of a completely naked Sam. He shivers as her eyes rove over him.

Sam’s not as bulked up as he was a decade ago, a leaner version still possessing a well defined upper body leading down to his flat stomach, the sharp v of his hips and those long legs. And between those legs...Swallowing hard and flushed Trouble moves setting the tray down on his bedside table as he hastily pulls on sweats and a grey t-shirt.

“Your three episodes behind in that series, figured you might want to watch it.” Trouble says grabbing his laptop and crawling onto his bed pulling up what he had been watching. “Have you seen it?” He asks sitting next to her.

“No, first your gonna eat,’ she gestures towards the tray with tomato rice soup, crackers and fruit, “then you can catch me up.”

By episode three Sam had eaten everything on the tray, brushed his teeth and was sacked out. Trouble shut the laptop down and placed it on the desk.

Turning out all the lights but a bedside one she slips back in next to Sam  picking up the book she brought from the library. She’d been reading for awhile when Sam rolls over in his sleep, one leg landing between hers, arm draped across her waist and his head on her shoulder nuzzling into her neck murmuring, “back in my bed.”

As consciousness slowly filtered through the haze of extended sleep two things simultaneously get Sam’s attention, the cool scent of the Omega he’s spooning and his morning wood trapped between them.

“Must’a been a good dream,” Trouble yawns rolling onto her stomach, the sheet sliding down reliving her long legs and lower cheeks peeking out under her oversized T-shirt burying her head in the pillow mumbling “I was gonna leave after you fell asleep.”

Running a hand up the back of her thighs he pushes till she parts her legs far enough for him to touch her outer folds feeling how wet she already is before slipping two fingers into her tight channel. Trouble moans as he them slides deeper, making her wriggle against the mattress seeking friction against her clit. Sam crawls over wedging a knee between hers.

“Sam..we..sho..shouldn’t.”

Pulling his fingers out Sam moves straddling her legs, pinning them closed as he sits on her thighs stroking himself, using her slick as lubricant. Grasping her hips he starts rutting his cock between her ass cheeks.

Grunting, Sam shifts picks up momentum and with her under him, even like this, knows he’s not gonna last long. “Fuc..fuck Trouble..gonna cum…” Sam jerks back fisting his cock rapidly, cumming on her before falling forward and catches himself with one hand next to her, breathing hard. With his other hand Sam runs his fingers through his spending's rubbing it across her back.

Trouble pushes up onto her elbows looking back at him, “Dude, are you scent marking me?”

“Maybe.” Sam replies with a smug smile.

“So gross, Alpha.”  

**********

Sam was beyond frustrated and feeling sick on his drive back from Atlanta. The rumored sighting of Dean end up being a bust, another one of those crazies he’s sick of wasting his time chasing. Switching off the radio that's making his headache pound harder making him wish he was home already.

Trouble, utilizing her abilities, was able to help eliminate some of bogus reports. Unfortunately, when any of them got to close, Dean disappeared.

The last time she had him, he created some kind of feedback knocking her unconscious. Cas checked her over, telling Sam she would be fine.

When she woke up Trouble tells them she’s seeing Dean doing strange experimentation on different types of monsters using Archangel Grace and it scares the hell out of her.

That was Sam’s breaking point. He stormed through the bunker in full Alpha mode from the infirmary to Deans room, packed her duffel and hauled it to his room. Even Mary knew better than to get in his way this time.

Sam couldn’t get her off his mind anymore now he had her back in his bed. She allowed him hold her whenever they slept together but wouldn’t permit anything else since that morning.

The Lebanon City Limits sign was a welcome sight. Sam was sweating, shaky and just wanting to get home.

He arrived at the bunker wondering what the hell he had caught. Mary greeted him with a hug and frowned catching his scent. Sam played it off, saying the Beta who had one too many hits of the brown acid was ill and he must have caught it.

Another hunter handed him a bowl of soup and bad news about some gypsy vamps attaching truckers. He had them set up checkpoints and sat down to hack the traffic cams. Mary gripped his arm concerned as he’s typing but he says he‘s good. She didn't believe him but doesn’t push knowing he wasn't gonna stop.

Six hours later as he left Nicks room he felt a massive surge go through him, no longer able to ignore what was wrong and it was his own damn fault.

Sam had forgotten his suppressants and for the first time in years was going into rut. He made it to the end of the hall before passing out.

**********

Cas had been by his friends bedside since Sam was found unconscious in one of the hallways days ago. He had been able to temporarily bring Sam's fever down and gave him sedatives to help him rest but with his age not being mated and having gone years without a rut his biology was demanding only cure, his chosen Omega.

Cas had called the Omega only getting her voicemail, left a message and began sending multiple texts.

He explained to Bobby that Mary had to leave the bunker, not only for her safety but the Betas also living there, unsure of how Sam will react to having another Alpha present when his Omega returned. Bobby found a case in Oregon that would occupy them for at least a week.

So Cas continued to do the only thing he could and watches over his friend.

**********

Sam woke groggy from the sedatives to the strong scent of an Omega in heat pulling him to full consciousness.

Rolling onto his side he finds Trouble lying next to him naked, covered in a light sheen of sweat fitfully sleeping.    

Moving to spoon her from behind he grips one leg hooking it over his rocking   his hips sliding his engorged cock through her dripping folds, Half asleep she whimpers pulling out of his grip, drawing both legs to her chest. Rumbling in discontent Sam scoots behind her again, lines up and buries himself in her tight heat making her moan with pleasure, her cunt stretching around him.

Sam pulls out and hauls Trouble onto her hands and knees spreading her legs wide and sinks back in till his hips are flush against her ass. Feeling her relax around him Sam grasps her waist so tight bruises already forming and growling at the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her slick cunt he starts pounding his hips rapidly.

Trouble reaches out grabbing the headboard to stop Sam from shoving her into it since he has six inches and nearly seventy pounds on her and is running on his instinct to mate.

Sam's knot starts to swell he continues thrusting wildly wrenches her hips up, forcing her to arch her back more as he grunts ramming the now fully engorged knot into her cunt locking them together and falls over her back, rolling his hips as she clenches him cumming.

Sam pushes himself back upright seizes a fistful of her hair pulls till she is flush to chest, biting deeply into her neck making Trouble cum again loudly.

As they counterbalance each other Sam runs his tongue over his mark cleaning off the blood he’s drawn, helping the wound to seal up faster before shifting to lay them down on the mattress. Feeling the tug of his knot Trouble clenches around him again, sending another orgasm rippling through Sam, releasing more of his seed into her.

Trembling from exertion Sam wraps his arms around Trouble, keeping her close, finally able to call her his Omega and gently placed a kiss upon her shoulder.

**********

“It's just every time I think about ya know its a..its like a nightmare. I can't eat, can't sleep, it’s always just there watching.” Dean bitched as they’re walking through the hallways.

“Dean, it’s just a beard, I’ve been a little busy lately” Sam remarks back exasperated and relived to have his brother back giving him a hard time.

“Yeah well, that’s not an excuse ya know, ‘cause a.. Duck Dynasty called and they just they want it all back.”

“Some people say I look good.” Sam proudly states almost telling him why he’s really kept it.

“No..no Sam, no people say that.” Dean shakes his head.

“Duck Dynasty is a step up from Dr. Sexy,” Dean turns to counter that insult disbelieving his eyes like Sam did weeks ago.

Trouble’s leaning against the wall now sporting her natural titian tresses that rival Rowena's.

“Good to have you back Dean,” She says giving him a hug, “and I like the beard.”  Walking over to Sam she pushes him against the wall wantonly kissing in front of Dean.

Breathless, Sam touches his forehead against hers running his fingers along the flannels front, “I was looking for this shirt the other day ‘mega.”

“Hmm, my bad, suppose I need to be punished Alpha.” She teasingly remakes biting her lip. Sam purrs low in his chest as he slides the shirt off her shoulders.

“You’re back together?” Dean blurts out interrupting them.

Sam turns pulling Trouble with him, her back against his chest and movie her hair to reveal his mark.

Dean looks between them “Fucking took you long enough Sammy,” he snaps turning to continue down the hallway grumbling, “there better not be any more surprises.”

Nuzzling her neck he inhales the new honey-vanilla scent mixing with her naturally cooler one.

Sam reaches down tenderly placing his large hands protectively over her womb where their surprise is resting and kisses her shoulder.