#joining the so tiny so small so pocket-sized club

[bindtorturekillme]

Your Eyes, Vacant and Stained

Ch.7 - 4.5k

Pairing: Frank Iero x Gerard Way

"Perfect! Let's check out the other RV's then. Charlotte, while we search, could you turn on the vehicles to check their gas levels?" Charlotte nodded. "Mikey, can you stay watch while we search the RV's?"

"As long as I'm not alone."

"Okay, Frank since you have an axe, do you want to stand watch with Mikey?" Frank was taken aback that he was asked, but did not say no; he just nodded. Mikey, on the other hand, did nothing to hide his annoyance but also did not protest.

Warnings 

Gore, Death, Murder, WORK-IN-PROGRESS, not completed (and chapters unknown) but I know the ending, trust me guys I will write it, I just need people to love this idea with me, Zombies, Gay, mcr??

Support my AO3 with part seven otherwise, enjoy ♥

Chap.1 | Chap.2 | Chap.3 | Chap.4 | Chap.5 | Chap.6 | Chap.8 | Chap.9 | Chap.10 |

Frank was the first one to walk towards the front door but Charlotte quickly got ahead of him, she had her right hand full of keys hanging from her fingers but no weapon. Instead, Scarlet was close next to her holding both.

"So, if the paperwork is correct, this key," She pulled the first key from her pointer finger. "should let us into this RV." There were only three keys on that finger and, as Frank looked around the lot again, only one was on this side of the building. The other two were tucked around the other side of the building and could only be seen from their rear-ends peaking out. Charlotte had used the key and gotten the RV open while Frank was looking around.

Ray was the one to volunteer to check inside before everyone else, "We peaked through the windows earlier and didn't see anyone but y'never know." Everyone backed up to give Ray some space, Mikey and Gerard were close behind him, weapons drawn and ready. Ray yanked open the door and the atmosphere became uncomfortably silent. The slight shuffle of Rays sneakers on asphalt almost made Frank jump, his heart was beating in his ears.

The RV moved slightly as he pressed his body weight up the stairs as quietly as he could. He whipped his head from the drivers seats to the back quickly before disappearing into the darkness. Frank watched intensely as the rest waited for Ray to come back, or scream. No one noticed Gerard look back at Frank to give him a reassuring grin, Frank was worried his fear was spreading across his face that he had attempted to keep as stoic as Mikey usually was.

Ray's head popped back out and a group sigh of relief happened. Ray had a goofy grin before saying, "Sorry, I just wanted to be as dramatic as possible. This thing is totally empty." Frank, Gerard and Scarlet all filed into the vehicle. Mikey volunteered to stay outside with Charlotte as she held the keys, not wanting to get them possibly mixed up. Scarlet leaned Charlotte's golf club against the side of the RV before going in behind Frank.

Ray had gone to the back of the camper where the beds were and was visibly tossing the tiny room around. Gerard went straight to the front of the camper and started digging through the glove compartment and pockets around both seats. Frank and Scarlet looked at each other desperately new to looting in the apocalypse and decided to take either sides of the kitchenette area. Scarlet was a bit taller than Frank and silently decided to peak through the hanging cabinets while Frank begrudgingly got to his knees to rummage through the standing cabinets.

"Nothing back here but some women's clothes and blankets." Ray tossed another blanket lazily onto the bed, giving the rest a look of disappointment. Scarlet was immediately distracted by him.

"Women's clothes? What size?" Scarlet had stopped searching as Frank begrudgingly tossed aside more pots and pans, finding nothing of use.

Ray shrugged, "I dunno? Small? Medium?" He started looking around for the clothes he tossed about but Scarlet had abandoned her spot to take over the room from Ray. Ray swiftly moved out of her way and joined Frank in the kitchen.

Frank huffed loudly before giving up, "Nothing down here either." He shouted to the group. Ray's hand appeared in front of his face, he looked up and was greeted by Ray's soft smile. He accepted his offer to help him stand.

"Ah ha!!" Scarlet exclaimed from the back, holding up a handful of different colored fabrics. Frantically she started checking the tags. Much to her disappointment, none of then would fit her.

"Yeah, there's just loose money and... shit," Gerard threw around random papers and wrappers from the front of the camper. "Nothin'."

A sigh of disappointment rained on them as they filed off the camper to Mikey and Charlotte again.

"Anything?" She asked them, but Scarlet just shook her head, taking Charlotte's club again.

"Well, let's try the next two!" Charlotte tried to keep her attitude high to keep the groups enthusiasm up but after the next two campers showed up mostly empty save for some bedding and more clothes, nothing could bring the mood back up. They had hoped one of the three within the gate would have a shower of some kind but the only plumbing all three had were the small sinks in the tiny kitchens.

The group reconvened in front of the building again. Charlotte had left each RV key with their respective camper before heading to the next, she only had four keys left for the RV's that sat outside the main gate.

"So..." Gerard spoke up." We have some gas for the trunk we drove here," he thumbed towards their truck. "But that doesn't take the same gas as the campers do-"

"And there's barely enough space for us." Mikey butt in.

"Yeah, so I'm not opposed to switching over to a camper for when we leave?" Gerard continued, mostly ignoring Mikey. Charlotte chucked at him.

"Scarlet and I carpooled here in her mini-coop. It wouldn't fit all of us either. Do we wanna check the campers and see if any have gas?"

"Maybe we should check the RV's outside the gate first?" Ray asked.

"What for? Doesn't seem like a lot of these people brought shit they needed to camp with." Frank rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, that's the worst part about this place." Charlotte started.

"People who vacation here are usually very rich so they just don't think they need a lot of the same survival stuff that normal people do. Like cans of food."

"Or showers." Mikey huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, I was completely unaware you could even buy an RV without a shower." Frank was leaning against their truck now.

"They're the small kinds of campers, we see them all the time." Scarlet waved him off. "But the ones outside of the gate seems bit bigger, I bet one of them has one!" This caused everyone to start arguing over each other about whether to take their loses and leave or to keep searching through the campers. Scarlet stood and watched as everyone argued, her face grew red as she started to feel worse for causing such a rift.

But, Ray saved the day and spoke in a loud, booming voice. "OKAY. GUYS." He clapped his hands and everyone stopped, all looking in different directions than the next person. Scarlet's face cooled but the redness was replaced with a light blush color. "We can't just stand here and argue about what to do next. It's already past noon so we might as well prepare to stay here another night. No big deal." Mikey rolled his eyes again, which only Ray caught. "Since we're going to stay, let's just check out the other RV's. Worst case scenario, we have to fight off a couple of zombies. Best case, we find a shower and food and push the thing into the gates."

Charlotte let out a hardy laugh. "You think we could push a whole RV around the gate and into the lot?"

Ray shrugged, "Figured it would be safer then turning it on and making a ton of noise before we're ready to leave?"

"You guys made a ton of noise coming here and the zombies didn't follow you up to the gate?" Scarlet added.

"You have a point... I didn't think about that before..." Ray quizzically held his chin. "Do you think we could turn it on and get it back in here without attracting another horde though?" Scarlet and Charlotte shrugged together.

"I think we're getting very ahead of ourselves here, already, guys." Gerard jumped in. "Let's just check out the campers first, if one of them has a shower we'll still need to find a water hookup for it. Frank and I did go through a lot to get a few canisters of diesel so I'd hate to see it go to waste but I can collect more."

"We have a water hookup around back, actually." Charlotte said.

"Perfect! Let's check out the other RV's then. Charlotte, while we search, could you turn on the vehicles to check their gas levels?" Charlotte nodded. "Mikey, can you stay watch while we search the RV's?"

"As long as I'm not alone."

"Okay, Frank since you have an axe, do you want to stand watch with Mikey?" Frank was taken aback that he was asked, but did not say no; he just nodded. Mikey, on the other hand, did nothing to hide his annoyance but also did not protest.

Instead of going through the main gate, Scarlet and Charlotte took them around back to show them where the water hookup was and to let them out of the parking lot from a smaller, more quiet gate meant for staffers to get to the green easier.

Since yesterday, it seemed as though the green had cleared, or at least the zombies had all wandered off far enough to stay out of their way as they made their way around the gate to the unprotected lot. There were tons of cars parked out here, scattered from the front of the lot to about two blocks away from the actual building. The RV's were all within just a couple of spots of each other in the spots marked as "Camper Parking Only".

The parking lot was not as free of zombies as the green had been. Within a couple of the cars, people with discolored skin and chunks of flesh missing were scratching at their doors and windows towards the group as they walked by. Since they came around from the back, the RV's were closer than if they had come from the front, but that did not prevent them from getting jumped. The zombies within their cars had made Charlotte recoil but when two jumped out at them from between a few big vans, Charlotte and Scarlet had yelped and jumped away from the group.

Ray quickly took care of the two zombies, throwing one off his body by slammed it into a car and using his bat to bring the other one down onto the pavement. He smashed the one onto the pavement in the skull twice, creating a loud crunching followed by a splurting sound before he whipped around and, with little time to react, was saved by Gerard. The zombie had regained its footing faster than he expected and Gerard jumped between the two connecting his bat with the skull of this zombie. Another loud crunch filled the air as Gerard followed the zombie down, smashing his bat into the head again as it hit the pavement. Both men were heaving by the time the zombies were down, one twitched but neither tried to get up again.

"Thanks." Ray clapped Gerard's shoulder.

"Always double tap." Gerard told the group before waving them forward to the campers. The first one in this line-up was no larger than the first three they had checked out, but Gerard still suggested looking just in case. Ray checked inside the campers first, like last time, before giving the okay for the rest to come in. Mikey and Frank stationed themselves on opposing sides of the camper, not saying a word to each other. As expected, this first camper was empty. When Charlotte checked the gas tank, it was less than half full.

Defeated the group moved onto the second one down the line. This one was bigger than the rest, but when Ray busted in he was immediately thrown back down a step by a zombie chomping at him. He was using his bat as a block between his body and the zombie but the zombie did not care about the barbed wire digging into it's chest. Ray stepped off the camper steps and threw the zombie down onto the pavement, topping it to hold it down. Mikey grabbed the next zombie that emerged from the camper, one that was much smaller than the first, and threw it to the pavement as well. As Ray smashed the big ones head, Gerard took to the small one and also caved in it's skull. Another three zombies flew out of the RV as everyone was half distracted, two small ones and one big one. Mikey took another small one and threw it to the ground, Frank hit the last small one in the back of the head with his axe, slicing almost completely through it's neck.

Ray pushed himself up and hit the one Frank almost decapitated to make sure it's whole head was gone. Mikey had squashed the second small one as Gerard was wrestling the last big one to the ground much like Ray had done with the first. Frank quickly came over and used his axe to separate the head from the body of the one Gerard had pinned under him. Scarlet and Charlotte had shuffled to hide behind the door to watch as the guys took on the fight.

"This one better have a fucking shower." Gerard growled as Frank helped him off his knees. All of them, save for the girls, had splatters of blood and chunks of brain matter covering their clothes, faces, and hair.

Ray cracked his neck before pushing forward into the camper again. "It's clear!" He shouted from inside, Charlotte and Scarlet had moved in quickly behind each other. Frank was unaware of why Mikey followed them in until he saw Gerard had pulled out and lit a cigarette without him noticing. He ran his fingers through his long, black hair, pushing it back out of his face almost using the blood to slick it back.

"Where'd you get that?" Frank pointed at his mouth, Gerard smirked.

"It's a secret." He winked and Frank did what he could to not blush. Gerard took a long drag before holding the butt out to Frank. Frank took a couple puffs before handing it back. Unlike the dull buzz he was used to from weed, nicotine still had a fresh effect on him. The two passed the cigarette between them for a few more hits before Gerard spoke up again. "Thanks. For saving me, or whatever."

Frank shrugged, "I was just makin' sure you didn't get bit. That's why we stay together, right? To survive?" Gerard's smirk melted Frank in his shoes every time, especially when he'd side-eye him. Frank was usually one to hold his shoulders high and be dominate towards others but Gerard was making him feel so small. And he liked that.

Ray popped out of the RV, "So, this one does have a shower, but not much gas."

"Well, we can always take gas from the other cars." Gerard waved his hand around at the plethora of cars still around them.

"Okay, there's no food on here still but there's five beds so..." Mikey's arm came into view handing Ray a slip of paper before disappearing back into the camper. "Oh, yeah and... uh... yeah, this..." Ray stumbled over his words and just held the paper out towards them. Frank took it and 'ughed' loudly, swallowing a gag as Gerard slipped in next to him to see the photo of the family they just dismembered. Ray watched silently, Frank was barely able to continue looking at the picture, let alone the bodies.

"Yeah, I'm not too surprised. They looked child sized." Gerard was emotionless. He took a long drag from the cigarette before taking the photo over to one of the adults to stuff the photo into their pocket. Ray had popped back into the camper while Frank dry heaved away from the bodies. Gerard clapped Frank on the back this time, offering him the cigarette again but Frank just held up his hand. "It'll get easier." Gerard finished the cigarette.

"So, I think if we can get two of us to get the gates open right before we pull the RV around, we could probably curb the zombies that follow us in." Charlotte was discussing a plan as everyone joined Frank and Gerard.

"That makes sense, I don't mind going. Charlotte, you should drive it over, you're the one who got us the keys." Ray volunteered. Charlotte blushed a little but determination covered her face.

"I'll stick with Charlotte!" Scarlet announced.

"I can go with you, Ray." Gerard offered.

"Sweet. Mikey, Frank, maybe one of you stay with the girls and one of you comes with us?" Frank was deep breathing with his forehead pressed against the hot car.

"I can stay." Mikey said without hesitation. Frank was thankful but was too focused on calming his stomach to reply, instead he just waved a thumbs up and continued his breathing.

"Perfect, so then Mikey, Charlotte, Scarlet, wait for us to hit the gate with one of our bats then start the RV. We'll pull the gates open then shut them once you're inside. You guys ready?" Ray pointed to Frank, mostly, but looked at Gerard.

"Do you want to check out the last RVs?" Gerard questioned.

"I mean..." He motioned at Frank, who was not looking. "We can always check it tomorrow. We did kinda take out... a lot..." Ray looked around at the bodies they left scattered behind them. "Plus, it's getting dark. We should move this thing in before it's too dark. Zombies don't really wear reflective gear." Gerard nodded understandingly and grabbed Frank's shoulder.

"You good to move..?" Gerard spoke in a low voice to Frank. "I'll be blocked them from your view." He offered. Frank took a moment before nodding and peeling his face off the metal. Charlotte and Scarlet had already started back up the stairs into the camper as Gerard took Frank under his arm to guide him away from the bodies with Ray. Mikey stayed outside the camper as the two girls climbed into the front seats, awaiting their signal.

The walk around to the front was relatively easy. Most of the zombies they saw were locked in their cars, or too far to be bothered with the three of them. Once they arrived at the gate, Ray gave it a good yank to see how easy it would be to open and was surprised that the automated system within didn't create any resistance.

"Alright, you guys ready?" Gerard and Frank nodded together, readied with their weapons. Ray banged on the iron of the gate and looked around to make sure no zombies were disturbed by the sound. From afar, the sound of the camper sputtering to life gave them more of a fright than the simple banging on the gate. But, to their surprise and relief, they were able to cruise the RV through the parking lot, onto the main road, and into the gates without too much disturbance. Very much unlike the guys welcome to the girls. They were in the clear as they went through the gates and started pulling them back to lock them in again, a loud shatter of glass had made the three of them looking around in panic as zombies started to climb out of a nearby houses window.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit." Gerard exclaimed as they yanked harder, the resistance from the automation that usually controlled the gate was effecting them now. Frank took his hands off the gate and pulled his axe up, ready to swing as the zombified bodies hit the ground and rolled into the main road. As they stood, they pushed on into something near a sprint. One was slugging a broken leg, one was dragging itself with it's hands, and one was basically still able-bodied enough to run with little to no hold back.

The fast one reached them before the gates could close completely. "FRANK, GET IT!" Gerard's yelled broke Frank's frozen fear as he could not get his mind off of the children he had brutalized.

They are already dead... They are already dead... He repeated to himself.

"FRANK, I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD IF YOU DON'T-" Before Gerard could finish, Frank threw his axe up over his head and, with his own yell, threw it down onto the runners skull. Splitting it open in two from the top and slicing down through to it's neck like a knife through warm butter. Gerard and Ray closed their eyes and flinched as more blood and brains sprayed at them. Frank had stood wide eyed, now covered in brain matter as well. He pulled the axe up again and, as the body was dropping to the ground, he brought it down again into it's chest. He did this a third time. Then a fourth before pulling himself away from the body. Ray and Gerard were almost completely distracted by Frank to realize another one had reached the gate as well now.

The RV's engine cut. "What the hell are you guys doing?!" Mikey screamed from the camper, throwing the door open he ran at them with his bat and hit the one with the dragging leg. Frank was standing and staring at them, eyes still wide with shock as one eye twitched while Mikey took out the other zombie. Ray and Gerard pulled the gate shut just as the one dragging itself by it's hands got to the gate. It was chomping at them and hitting the gate mindlessly like an elderly person attempting to get into a store past closing hours. Ray and Gerard sighed together before fist bumping.

Mikey whipped around the Frank. "What the fuck were you thinking?! You were supposed to help them, why were you just standing there?!" But Frank just stared, eyes wide and blood dripping down his face. Mikey took each of his shoulders in his hands and shook him. "Frank. Frank, what the FUCK man?!"

Instead of responding like a normal person would, Frank just looked at Mikey with wild eyes, a smile broke across his face and he chuckled a little. This only pissed Mikey off more and, out of instinct, Mikey slapped him. Frank stood stunned. Hand instinctively going to the cheek that was just slapped. He blinked a few times and Gerard and Ray grabbed Mikey by the arms and yanked him off Frank. "He almost got all of us killed, he deserved this. He LAUGHED."

"But we didn't die, everyone's fine!" Gerard started, "He's in shock, Mike. We've been doing this awhile, he's hardly had to kill anything yet."

"The only reason we aren't zombie food is because of ME, not him!" Mikey was struggling hard against their grip but Ray and Gerard together were able to keep him restrained.

"Mikey, you've got to chill, man. We all have made mistakes." Ray attempted to coax Mikey down as Frank held his cheek and continued to stare at the three men.

"I warned him to not hold us back when we met him and he almost just let you two die. We're just going to pretend that didn't just happen?!"

"I... I'm sorry." Frank's voice came out small but sincere.

"Sorry my ASS. Frank, if you can't carry your weight, you need to leave. Find another crew who you wont hold back."

"Mikey!" Ray and Gerard scolded him together as he stopped fighting back against their restraint.

"This is... difficult... I don't-"

"I don't care." Mikey sounded venomous. "This shit is difficult for all of us, not just you. You need to get your shit together."

"I'm sorry." Frank's crazy eyes tamed, but the blood spatter across his face still gave him a haunting appearance. "I froze up. I fucked up. I'm fucking sorry."

"Sorry doesn't change shit. Don't let it fucking happen again." Mikey ripped his arm from Gerard's grip, Ray willingly let him go and he stomped back towards the building. Mikey checked Frank's shoulder as he walked by, nearly pushing Frank onto the ground.

Once Mikey was out of view, Ray and Gerard noticed Charlotte and Scarlet peaking out of the RV, watching them silently. With the show being over now the two of them climbed off the camper and speed walked back inside with their heads down. Ray and Gerard exchanged a look as Frank stared at the body he brutalized.

"I'll go talk to him..." Gerard started on his way to find Mikey when he stopped next to Frank to speak in his ear again. "Frankie, you're fine. Shit like this happens. We weren't always this used to killing, I promise. We've all frozen up before." Gerard put a comforting hand on Frank's bicep and gently squeezed. The warmth of Gerard's hands brought some comfort to Frank, reminding him he was still alive and was still human.

Ray moved in to comfort Frank when Gerard moved away finally. "Don't be mad at Mikey, he's always struggled with anger but it got worse after... we left home." Frank could tell Ray was holding back but decided not to push for more information. "I'm not saying to give him a break, or excuse how he acted. Just... Don't let it impede on your judgement of him. He's been struggling more than Gerard and I have." Frank met Ray's eyes and nodded. Ray's smile could be seen in his eyes and he took Frank into a hug that surprised him.

Ray's arms around him made him feel good and safe. His body immediately sagged into Ray's as he wrapped his arms around to hug him back. He inhaled Ray's smell as he took a calming deep breath, which was almost overpowered by the smell of rotting body, but it was still there in the crook of his neck. Ray broke the hug sooner than Frank wanted to, still smiling down at Frank. "Y'know, Gerard was right."

"About?"

"We've all frozen up before. It was really hard for us to get used to this but we..." Ray sighed and closed his eyes momentarily, his smile fading. "We got used to this kind of a thing after having to... having to take out a few people we were really close with. It feels more like murder when it's someone you love." Ray attempted to give a comforting smile but only appeared to be sad. "You have to remind yourself it isn't murder if they've already been taken.

It isn't murder if they're already taken... Frank repeated in his head as Ray also headed back inside. The monster that had reached the gate was tiredly chomping at Frank still, but his ears began ringing as soon as Ray's feet against pavement faded away. Frank took his head in his hands and squatted to the ground. Eyes squeezed shut as he processed what just happened. God, you're going to make them all hate you before you can even get to your family... Frank still had heard nothing from his parents, or his brother, causing him to give up on attempting to reach them. He pushed the palms of his hands hard enough against his eyes to see stars before rubbing the pain in his head away through his temples.

Tomorrow will be better. I will do better tomorrow. It is not murder if it is already taken.

[dorthyanndrarry]

Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -45-

Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s, enemies to lovers, angst, mentions of throwing up/vomit, mentions of suicide, mentions of panic attacks, swearing

suggested rating: Mature

Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 44 || Part 46 ->

-

Chapter Twenty

Potter went to work the next day. Which was utterly beyond belief, as far as Draco was concerned.

He coped by spending the day with Mary. He did Mary’s shopping for her first and then settled in to watch her programs with her and eat biscuits with weak sweet tea. He couldn’t keep up with Coronation street, which often had long, convoluted storylines, but he adored listening to Mary’s excited recaps. The comedies were more his speed. Draco liked being able to just laugh and not think.

Elle joined them during Father Ted, hearing Draco’s laughter through Mary’s open window. And Samuel showed up after his shift, squeezing onto the middle of Mary’s tiny couch between Draco and Elle to watch a panel chat show. They all pitched in for fish and chips from a small local chippy down the street and laid the bag across Mary’s little coffee table, chips tumbling out of the greasy waxed bags as they shared around.

Mary dozed off in her little gliding rocker, her gentle snores keeping them company as they watched some sort of mystery program. Draco wasn’t following it terribly well, half-asleep himself, leaning against Samuel’s shoulder. Elle was pressed to Samuel’s other side, hugging a faded floral pillow to her chest as she watched the show. Samuel seemed the most interested, guessing what would happen next and mostly being right. None of them had a telly; Samuel and Elle preferred books, and Draco preferred company, but occasionally they all managed to come together and watch a few shows at Mary’s like this. They were always Draco’s favourite sorts of days.

Draco left when everyone else did, promising Mary he would visit again soon, waving as Samuel headed into his flat, giving Elle a hug before she went upstairs. He remained in the centre of the courtyard, standing perfectly still until he heard Elle’s door close.

It was quiet. If he strained his ears, Draco could just barely hear cars passing by on the road outside, and even then, part of him thought it might just be in his head. His mind gently twisting the sound of his own blood pumping in his ears into something alive and real, so he wouldn’t feel as alone as he was.

Draco patted his jeans down until he found what was left of his battered pack of cigarettes. He finished out a bent cigarette, lighting it with his wand, hunched over slightly to hide what he was doing. He breathed in too deeply, making his lungs and throat burn, his eyes watering and fighting to keep himself from coughing. Draco pressed his wand back into his pocket, a simple extension charm holding his wand in a space the size of a pound coin.  He wondered, with a bitter smile as he took another drag, if the Ministry would also call this misuse of muggle artefacts since he bought them in a muggle shop.

Draco closed his eyes, rocking onto the balls of his feet. He was already feeling it grow, that gnawing ache that lived in the centre of him. And with it, the desire to find a bar, a club, somewhere full of life and warmth, and alcohol to soften the jagged edges.

Draco flicked the butt onto the ground, ground it with the toe of his shoe, and went around to the back of the building to apparate back to Potter’s flat.

-

💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜 i think I had the evil eye on me last week, I had an uncanny amount of badluck, but things have been better this week, hopefully it will stay so 💜thank you for reading! 💜

Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages or reblogs on the previous 2 parts.)

💜 @idareyoutotakealook  thank you so much!😍 I’m really enjoying exploring this potential version of Draco

💜 @luna13e-blog  💜 💜thankyou!!! hope you’re feelin better 💜

💜 @dewitty1 yay for brain medicine! I don’t know what I’d do without it 💜 💜thank you!

💜 @shadowybook harry really does need a break, silly boy 💜 💜thank you!

💜 @addicted-to-w0rds 😆it’s such a good image 💜 💜thank you! 💜 💜

💜 @languedor71 draco does like to bother people into spending time with him the little shit😂 💜 💜thank you!

💜 @deadhoneybee thank you so much! hope the delay didn’t dissuade you lol

💜 @devilrising draco loves being loved and wanted and needed, the silly boy, someone just give him some attention 💜 💜 thank you so much!! (happy to see you again)💜

💜 @beelzebub-banshee 😁at least your doggos are having fun while they wear themselves out!  💜thank yous! 💜

💜 @pain-changes-everything  draco; half blunt asshole, half a ball of anxiety and panic, a recipe for a man🤣 thank you soooo much!

💜 @havingaverydrarryday thank you!

💜 @chamomileteafuel  💜  @harley--queen  💜 @hmmihaventdecidedyet  💜 @atomicauthorathletevoid  💜 

💜 @kaosuiinku    💜  

[angelamajiki]

Damn that Bully Dabi and Hawks fic was an amazing read! I love it when you write them full on bastard mode!

Pro Hero Bakugou sexually harassing his weak quirkless secretary who does her very best at her job. She's good at it but Bakugou always looks mad (read: sexually frustrated). High on success after a good rescue, he wants to celebrate....

OR

Cop Bakugou sees a pretty little thing outside a club. She looks sus so he decides she needs a pat down. Maybe he'll plant something to blackmail her into doing certain favors. Very bully, very bastard Bakugou.

PARINGS: Pro Hero! Bakugou x Secretary! Quirkless! AFAB! Reader

CW: yandere, dubcon/noncon, dirty talk, choking, cunnilingus, overstimulation, scumbage bakugou, use of the word rape, quirkless reader, size difference, age gap, death threats, sexual harrassment, bullying, mindbreak, masturbation, office sex

AN: I’ll probably write the cop Bakugo at some point too! For now, mind the tags and enjoy :)

They say to never meet your idols and in retrospect, you wished you would have listened.

Try as you might, it seemed like Mr. Dynamight was never satisfied with your work. Admittedly, you joined his agency as his office secretary based on having a crush on the pro, but you assumed his brash nature would calm down in an office setting. You did everything he asked, obediently followed his every word, which was all met with harsh glares and what you thought were dissatisfied grunts.

Surely you thought it wouldn't be about your being quirkless, but rumors were high strung in the office about the blonde’s feeling towards those without quirks. It would explain the harsh glares and judgment he passed on you despite your work effort.

The man even went as far as to ask for your personal phone number, only to leave scathing voicemails whenever you couldn't show up to work or miss out on work gatherings he put together. You couldn't help but flush at the thought of him missing your presence. Maybe you were just bad at reading his signals? Or maybe he was just hell-bent on bullying you more than the rest of the staff.

The job paid very well, so you couldn't exactly up and leave based on his behavior. However, you did notice how...handsy Mr. Dynamight has become with you. It was subtle at first, brushing shoulders in the hallways, letting his fingers ghost against yours when he handed you paperwork.

It soon escalated to always having a hand on your shoulder, holding your hips when he had to brush behind you, towering over you from behind your chair when you showed him something. You couldn't say that you weren't flattered, but his rough demeanor remained.

It started becoming uncomfortable when he made passes at you, making sure you were cornered and alone when he did.

“C’mon, am I really that fuckin’ intolerable that you can't get lunch with me, pipsqueak?”

You assumed that he was just messing with you, so you always turned him down with a flushed face and ran back to your desk, leaving him blue balled and more desperate by the day. There's no way a pro hero like him would actually be interested in someone quirkless and weak like yourself.

But that's the reason why he liked you anyway. So small, so weak, so obedient, so perfect for him to fuck up. God, if he didn't want just to rip your tiny pencil skirt to threads and spear you on his cock like no tomorrow. A pretty thing like yourself shouldn't be working. No, no, no. You should be at home, in his home in his bed with his ring on your finger. You belong to him, don't you see that?

Katsuki only ever gives you the time of day, not those other stupid bitches who crawl up his ass every morning trying to get a crumb of attention. And what do you do with his precious time? Waste it. Always whining about how you really shouldn't, that he shouldn't be seen with someone like you. As if he gives a fuck about what the media has to say.

He even checks up on you when you're not at work! Isn't he such a gentleman? Sure, he's a bit vulgar, but he's trying to show he cares. But if you want to act like a stuck-up bitch, then he’ll gladly treat you like one.

After a particularly tough fight with a villain, the blonde wanted nothing more than to use and abuse you to get some steam off his chest. It was late, but he prayed to whatever gods were out there that you were still in the office. He left you a voicemail for good measure, hoping that you would do what you always did best and stayed obedient for him.

It was locked up for the night, but he could see your office light on from the street. Perfect. Such a good girl for him. Little did he know that you stayed late quiet often.

You hadn't even seen his previous call come through; you were too busy listening to an old one with plenty of derogatory terms being spat your way. A hand shoved in your skirt, you couldn't help but finger yourself the sound of his voice calling you moronic for skipping out of work. Mr. Dynamight was your childhood crush after all, you had jerked off to plenty of interviews of him in the past. Sure, it was creepy but no one had to know. The older man was so big, so strong and handsome. You couldn't help but feel fuzzy from the voicemail, even if it was degrading you, it was for you alone.

Speak of the devil and he will appear.

“Well, shit. Whadda we have here, pipsqueak?”

A rough chuckle came from behind you as he pulled your desk chair out and swiveled towards him.

“Caught ya red-handed, huh? Who knew you were such a little slut for me.”

Taking the phone from your hand, he hung it up on the receiver and took your hand out of your panties. He snatched your fingers greedily in his mouth and sucked your wetness off of him.

“You know what, I’m feeling a bit hungry. And you taste like something in the vein of what I’m tryin’ to have for dinner.”

Katsuki devoured you in a hungry kiss, lifting you out of the chair and onto your desk. He tossed aside the papers messily and spread your legs to see your slick moistening your sheer tights and panties.

“Bend over and spread that fuckin’ pretty pussy for me, pipsqueak.”

You shook your head, already feeling humiliated enough by being caught with your pants down, literally.

“That wasn't a question, that was a command, you bratty bitch. What happened to your manners?”

God did his words stir something deep inside you. Waiting was no longer a priority; catching you like this was proof enough in his mind that you were just playing hard to get.

“You should consider yourself lucky that I want you to sit on my face, you know that? I have bitches trying to get on my dick every day, but it only gets hard for you, pipsqueak.”

“I-I thought you didn't like quirkless people!”

“It's all the more reason I want to be balls deep in your cunt right now. So weak and pathetic, it's fucking cute.”

You could feel yourself tighten around nothing just at his words. He was right, you were just a pathetic plaything for him. Not hesitating any longer, he ripped off your skirt and threw it behind the both of you. Your tights also got ripped to shreds, leaving you in your blouse and panties.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” He muttered, mostly to himself as he took your panties off and pocketed them. For later, he thought.

Katsuki didn't hesitate to spit on your already wet cunt before diving into his meal. Each stroke of his tongue sent fire straight to your core, each suckle of his lips drew a whimper from your mouth. Hips bucked into his mouth before he held them down, using just one hand to cover your torso. So small and petite for him, how cute would you be up against his massive form.

“M-Mr. Dynamight!”

“Heh, so fuckin’ cute. Call me Katsuki, sweet thing. Or daddy, if you're nasty like that.”

Your hips were held taught against his face, not allowing you to squirm or inch away from his searing tongue fucking your hole. He continued to ravage you with his mouth, pulling away only a few times to give your pussy a nice spank. Groaning into your cunt, he stroked himself at the same time.

Humiliation had dissolved into pleasure as he serviced you, tears springing in your eyes as he gripped his head tightly with your hands and thighs. Having already masturbated before getting caught, it didn't take long for him to make you see stars and roll your eyes into the back of your head.

“K-Katsuki, I’m cumming!” You shouted, squirting onto his tongue as your body shook around his head. Your fingers threaded deeply into his hair and tugged as he continued to work his tongue into your hole, riding out your orgasm.

He didn't stop, though.

“Too much, it's too much!”

“I’ll stop when I’m finished, little girl.”

You tried to push his head away, but he gripped your wrists from under your legs and had you pinned against his mouth, shaking and screaming from overstimulation. Once he brought you another good nut, he pulled away and gave your clit a kiss, chuckling when you jumped.

Standing up, he pushed his mask up to pull his back and took his rock-hard cock from his pants. He spat on your dripping hole once again before lining up his fat head with it.

Katsuki hissed as he sank himself into your cunt, holding your hips in place as you whined and squirmed under him, still overly sensitive. God, were you gripping him in all the right ways. Your legs around his waist, your hands on his forearms, and your cunt around his cock.

“Relax, pipsqueak, or I’ll end up breaking you.” He chuckled. “But you might like that, huh?”

Seeing your teary, fucked out face while teasing you? He nearly jizzed himself on the spot. But he had to hold out for you. A choked gasp was all you could respond with as he got right in your face, breath tickling your cheeks as he looked in your eyes.

“Such a dirty slut, getting off to the sound of my voice. It's better in person, isn't it?”

“D-Daddy!”

Was all you could whine as his thumb made his way to your clit, drawing slow, gently circles with his roughed-up finger.

“Oi, oi, oi, did I break ya already, pipsqueak? Y’know, you coulda just asked for my cock like a good girl if you were gonna get this drunk off it.”

His hips slowly drew back, almost pulling out all the way before slamming back in, earning a squeal from you.

“Or maybe you wanted me to take you by force? Show ya what the fuck happens to quirkless little girls who tease their fuckin’ man so much that he just has to come and take their little cunt to show ‘em who’s boss, eh?”

You couldn't help but tighten around him from his words, squirming under his hot breath as he started to grind his hips up into yours slowly.

“Good girl, letting daddy rape your cunt so willingly.”

Katsuki chuckled, sealing a hot kiss on your mouth while he gripped your throat. His hips began to piston in and out of your pussy, thick veins grinding against your spongy walls.

His brutal kisses swallowed your moans and tears while he squeezed your throat. His other thumb continued to swipe against your clit in fast motions, causing your to clamp down and flutter against his thick cock.

“Shoulda known you were a whore from the start, wearing those skirts that hugged ya in all the right places. Bending over and letting me touch you how I pleased, it's like you wanted this to happen.”

The pace of his thrust increased as he started to chase his orgasm, holding your throat and hips down to use you like the hole he knew you were. He growled and snarled into your mouth as he choked you, even more, watching the blood flood to your face.

“Yeah, baby, I've got your life in my hands now. If you won't be mine, I’ll fuckin’ kill you. Then nobody can have you.”

“Y-Yours! I’m yours!” You managed to gasp out, gripping his forearm and digging your nails into it, hoping he’ll let you up for air

“Damn straight, now cum for me, you quirkless little bitch.”

The haziness from the lack of air and the pleasure pooling in your gut sent you over the edge a third time, making you cry out his name as you came. Katsuki was right behind you, eyes screwed shut and practically foaming at the mouth as he came deep inside you, finally letting you breathe once he finished himself off.

You sputtered and coughed, desperate to fill your lungs with air as he pushed some stray hairs out of your face.

“Ya did good, pipsqueak.”

He praised, giving your ass a spank before pulling out and tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“You’re coming home with me, so don't worry about the mess.”

“By the way, you're fired.”

TAG LIST: @tomurasprincess @suzuki-violin-school @sightoru @alrunemara

[kakashiswilloffire]

hey friend! i saw you are taking requests and would love to submit one if you're up for it!

would love something fluffy and sweet for kakashi. maybe some lazy day off shenanigans with his s/o and his ninken? bonus points if snuggling in a dog pile is involved at some point. reader can be gender neutral.

thanks and congrats on 100!

thank you so much!! i'm not really a dog person so i struggled a bit but i hope you enjoy!!

ao3

words: 2.4k

warnings: none!

It was the first day off you had both had in nearly a month. Team 7 kept Kakashi busy, if not with missions, then with training all day. On top of that, he was still in the on-call rotation all jonin were required to keep their names in, though his shifts were less frequent due to his status as a sensei. You had recently been promoted, and with that, your responsibilities were upped and you had been asked to step in for one of your colleagues who had recently run into some unexpected health issues. The time you had been able to share at home together had been limited to early mornings and late evenings, and frequently, there had been nights where the apartment you shared had remained empty entirely. Your fiancé had been counting down the days until your schedules finally overlapped, and you had exactly twenty-six hours in which you both had no obligation to the outside world.

You were awoken by the fire alarm screeching and a handful of swear words, followed by a crunching of plastic and sudden silence. Gaze flickering to the side, you noted Kakashi’s two-thirds of the bed empty and grinned, holding back a chuckle.

“Everything alright, babe?” you called out.

The reply came with an air of resignment. “Did I wake you up?”

You brought your arms over your head, feeling your joints re-align and pop lightly as you stretched.

“Not necessarily, unless you need help cleaning up?”

“No!” He replied quickly, and you heard the broom skitter across the tiles, dragging the remains of the smoke detector with it. “Go ahead and go back to sleep, I’ll come wake you later.”

Not one to deny the opportunity to rest after how late you’d gotten in last night, you snuggled back into your pillow with a small smile. It only took a moment before you were drifting off again, although not as deeply as you had been. You were dimly aware of the sound of teapot being filled, the burnt toast smell wafting through the open door, and your fiance’s graceful footsteps as he danced through the kitchen.

Wait.

Danced?

You raised your head up slightly, freeing both ears to focus on the sound of the Copy Ninja’s footsteps. His weight wasn’t distributing evenly on each step and the pattern of his footfalls was irregular. Bringing yourself to a sitting position, you suddenly realized that he was humming absentmindedly in the small kitchen.

Kakashi was not known for his stoicism, but the level of professionalism he established outside of the copy of Icha Icha attached to his palm was carefully maintained even in his downtime. When you went out together for dinner or drinks with friends, he told few jokes and mostly at Genma or Asuma’s expense. Gai’s repeated challenges to karaoke contests, both in locations with and without a karaoke machine, had always been flatly denied in favor of watching you and Kurenai choose the heartbreaker duet of the week to belt out. When you found yourself at the rare club, it only took light coaxing to bring him onto the dance floor with you, but anything more than swaying to the beat was out of the question. As long as he was having fun, you didn’t mind him not joining in the way the others teased him to do, but you had wished that he would be able to let go of his responsibilities long enough to really enjoy himself one day.

You slinked out of bed, keeping your movements as fluid as possible as you wrapped the comforter over your shoulders. As silently as you could move, you travelled into the hallway and through the living room, the smell of something acrid and burnt slowly getting stronger. You flattened yourself parallel to the wall, though not touching it to prevent the noise of the comforter dragging along, once you approached the doorway to the kitchen. He was certainly humming, and you couldn’t repress a grin, realizing he must be nearly skipping from the counter to the pantry from the way he moved. As slowly as you could, despite your excitement, you leaned around the corner to check on the man in the kitchen.

Kakashi was wearing boxers and a binder, his most comfortable outfit when secure inside your shared home. To your delight, he had chosen one of the binders without a mask attached, and you had a clear view of the slightly silly grin plastering his face as he shifted intermittently from humming to light, mumbled singing, punctuated by murmuring the ingredients he was using as he reached for them. He was stationed at the stove, stirring a medium pot and tasting from it in between verses of his song, reaching for more salt or minced garlic to adjust. He closed his eyes, bobbing his head side to side at a line he took a particular interest in, the morning sunlight catching glints of silver in his messy hair.

Taking advantage of his eyes being shut, you whipped back around the doorway into the living room, quickly tiptoeing away. You were so in love, and so happy to see him carefree, your mouth fell open in a silent scream and your hands, corners of the comforter still held in each, flew to your face.

You had to tell someone. No one would ever believe that Kakashi Hatake, master of a thousand jutsu, could be so sweet and cute behind the former ANBU exterior. Quickly, you crouched to the floor, abandoned the comforter, and made the required handsigns, pausing for a moment to remember if it was hitsuji or uma that came after saru, then gently pressed your palm against a squishy couch cushion. With a puff of smoke that evaporated almost as quickly as it was created, Pakkun sat before you.

You brought your finger up to your lips in a shushing gesture immediately. The tiny dog squinted, but nodded his agreement after a beat. This was your third or fourth time summoning him, and the first time you had done with without Kakashi. Animal summons were not your strong suit, and you had never particularly been a dog person, a fact that Pakkun had keyed in to almost instantaneously upon meeting you when you had no more than polite “my boyfriend’s pet” level interest in his paw pads. They were as soft and supple as he claimed, but you didn’t quite understand the appeal of man’s best friend.

You made the simple gestures required to convey that there was something to see and led Pakkun quietly toward the entryway to the kitchen where you could hear the rice cooker being sealed and started. Kakashi had switched to a different song and was now vocalizing the instrumentals softly, occasionally pausing to mime playing the instruments he was mimicking. Your hand found its way over your mouth, your heart melting with the gentle domesticity. Then you jerked away, feeling a soft scratch at your feet.

The pocket-sized grizzled dog glared at you until you bent down, when he pointed upwards toward a mess of hair. You felt a pang of guilt as you realized from this angle, all you could see was the shinobi’s calloused hand pushing silver strands out of his face, the black engagement band glinting dully on his finger. For the wedding in four months, you had managed to arrange custom bands for you both with the Hatake crest engraved into the matte surface. Kakashi didn’t know yet, and you knew that with how mission work was, he wouldn’t get to wear it often, but he would have a piece of his clan’s legacy with him whenever he did wear it.

The feeling of disappointment radiated off of the dog with the headband as you absorbed the fact you hadn’t considered him not being able to see over the counter. After a moment, you held out both your hands cupped together, fingertips resting on the floorboards. Pakkun regarded this, looking from your hands to your face, which you tried to humble appropriately. He sniffed at your exposed palms, then delicately stepped into your arms.

Bringing him up to your chest as you stood back up, you felt him stiffen. Had you moved him too quickly? Were you holding him too tightly? You ran two fingers down the back of his head instinctively and were surprised to find him relax. Kakashi tasted the cloudy liquid from the pot again and nodded firmly, turning toward the doorway. You whipped around, placing your back against the living room wall and clutching Pakkun tightly to your chest. You both held your breath, waiting to see if you’d been caught.

He sang to himself, “almost ready!” and you released your breath. Quickly, you snagged the blanket off the floor and made your way back to the bedroom.

“What’s the occasion?” Pakkun demanded as soon as you had the door shut behind you, jumping onto the bed.

“There is none! It’s just our first day off in a while, and he thinks I’m still asleep!”

Pakkun considered that quietly. “His pa, Sakumo, used to do the same thing. If he thought no one was around, he’d put on a whole concert for himself. Kakashi used to join him, up until his death. Then I didn’t catch him humming again till about a year after Minato’s death. Life had been rough for the poor pup up till about then. But he’s been in there all morning singing to himself?”

You nodded, pulling the gray comforter tighter around your shoulders. You knew your fiancé had been through more than most people should ever have to go through, but to think he might be making a breakthrough with his depression and trauma—to start singing again?

Pakkun made an odd noise that reminded you of a sneeze, then pawed at his eye and seemed to clear his throat. “I gotta tell the others. They’re gonna lose it.”

“Yeah, you should definitely head back and let them know the good news. I’m supposed to be asleep after all, he’ll probably come wake me up in a minute or two.”

The sly dog hesitated, then a wicked glimmer flashed across his eyes. “Or…”

Before you could react, you were engulfed a thin cloud of smoke that smelled vaguely of grass, and your bed began to creak. You jumped up, gasping at the number of variously sized dogs that had appeared in the room.

Pakkun addressed the crew before anyone could ask any questions. “Stay quiet. We’ve got a stealth mission ahead of us. Everyone, this is Kakashi’s partner, the one he’s marrying soon.” He then turned to you and pointed out the pack members in a line. “Bull, Urushi, Shiba, Bisuke, Akino, Uhei, and Guruko.” They were all undeniably adorable, and you’d have to ask your fiancé when he had the time to commission them all matching vests and headbands, but you were still shocked to see so many dogs. Did he really have eight summons? When most shinobi had one, if any?

“Name of the game is observe without being detected. Target: Kakashi. Location: kitchen. Standard formation. Questions?”

With no questions being posed, Pakkun lept up onto Bull’s head and led the way. You marveled in how quietly such a massive dog could move and trailed the pack as they made their way through your apartment.

You heard the timer on the rice cooker ding, then the seal breaking and relished the scent of the steam drifting through the air. There must be a stick of lemongrass in the rice this morning. You could see that Kakashi was beginning to set the table, gathering everything for a cozy breakfast for two.

He was also singing, audibly, with some degree of confidence.

One by one, the dogs all stopped and froze in awe. Akino and Uhei stepped around to the other side of you, and Shiba—or maybe it was Urushi?—popped their head between your knees to try to see. You were surrounded on all sides by the ninken, and you started to feel comforted by their warmth. Together, you all listened to your man serenade chopsticks and bowls as he spun to the small table, breaking into a mock tap routine as the china hit the wooden surface. You felt your head tilt to the right as you let the waves of love rush over you as you watched him carefully adjust the oily, burnt pan in the sink so he could wash his hands.

“Alright, love—breakfast is ready!”

For just a moment, you forgot that you were supposed to be in bed. You didn’t move as Kakashi rounded the corner, freezing when he saw nine sets of puppy-dog eyes gazing wistfully back at him from the middle of the living room, all heads tilted to the right and dreamy smiles plastered on each face.

“Ah! Uh, how long have you, uh…?”

Together, you moved as a pack toward your loved one, tackling him in a ten person hug. When you wormed your way past Uhei, you cupped Kakashi’s face and brought him in for a deep kiss, feeling butterflies in your stomach. He blushed slightly, tracing his thumb along your jawline.

“I love you, and I’m so glad that you feel safe and happy and loved with me,” you whispered fiercely, trying to beam the intensity of your emotion at him without being too aggressive.

He smiled, Sharingan deliberately taking the whole scene in as he lay on the floor with you, pulling you into his arms. Pakkun trotted over to sit on his chest while he brought you in for a firm, tight hug.

“Me too. And I’m glad you got to meet the rest of the clan.” He let the Sharingan fall shut, relaxing against you.

“Would’ve made more miso soup if I’d known everyone was coming over. Have you seen the dog bowls around anywhere?”

[kagedaddy]

nightie time - oikawa tooru

Warnings: explicit content

oikawa tooru [masterlist]

just a little something short, sorry i’ve been gone but i’ll be continuing the boyfriend scenarios series so check the masterlist if yah haven’t read it.

You glance at the different meats in the freezer, picking up the steak cuts before moving on to the bread section and picking up your tall boyfriend’s all time favourite, milk bread. Checking the grocery list one last time before heading to the counter and ringing up your groceries, you thank the sweet old cashier lady and began your journey back to the apartment. Your phone rings in your pocket, playing your overly obnoxious ringtone, you shift all the grocery bags to one arm before answering the small device.

“(your name)-chan, I’ll be heading soon. Are you home, princess?”comes the peppy voice of your partner, “Hey Tooru, I’m nearly home.”you say as the apartment building comes into view. “That’s good, princess. Get home safe, I love you.”a smile graces your lips at the affection, “You too, babe. I love you.”you say before ending the call and entering the building, politely greeting the security guard and reception lady before stepping in the elevator and pressing the floor to your apartment. Once on your floor you slide the key in the keyhole and push your door wide open for you to enter. Dropping all the grocery bags on the kitchen counter, you head into your shared bedroom and rid yourself of your outside clothes and slipping on one of Tooru’s old shirts, his old Aoba Johsai volleyball club shirt. You throw your hair up in a bun before heading back to the kitchen and typing up your cutsie apron. You take out the butter, salt, pepper, garlic and rosemary to season the steak. Once it has all been prepped, you set out the plates to use for dinner ad begin cooking your meals.

“(your name)-chan! It smells amazing in here!”the sound of your front door shutting signals you the arrival of your pretty setter, “Mhmm, yum! What a fucking tasty sight.”a smack comes down on your ass, “Tooru!”you gasp and whirl around in surprise to your cheeky boyfriend, who leans down to peck your lips. “Tooru, go have a shower. You’re sweaty and stinky.”you shoo away the male, pushing him to the direction of your bedroom, “Awwe princess, I thought you like it when I’m sweaty.”a smirk plays on his lips and it has you flushing a brirght red which earns a teasing laugh from the setter which echoes in your apartment, you turn back to your cooking. You hear the shower start and you take the time to set out his favourite milk bread and prepare the other ingredients to make the sandwiches.

The oven dings and you take the pan out, taking out the steaks and cutting them into thin strips, you jump in surprise as arms find themselves around your waist and a head tucks itself in the crook of your neck, “I can’t wait for dinner, princess.”Oikawa whispers in your ear, kissing his way down to the base of your neck earning a soft mewl from you. “Oi! Baka I’m making dinner.”you playfully scold the tall male, he laughs and kissing the top your head, “Alrighty, its all ready now.”you plate the sandwiches before setting them infront of you and Oikawa as soon as the food was placed on the counter Oikawa immediately ravages the sandwich and fuck, the sight of your man devoruing his meal sends a burning sensation in you. 

“Go have a shower, I can handle the dishes.”he takes the dishes out of your hand and gently pushes you to the direction of your bedroom, you eye him suspiciously before nodding your head. You strip off and brush out your hair before stepping in the warm shower, After you had finished you brushed out your hair and got into another of Tooru’s comfortable shirts, leaving the bathroom your boyfriend was laid out in bed waiting for you and a movie prepared. “Shouldn’t you sleep early? You got a game tomorrow.”you playfully scold the chocolate haired man, he gives you a pout and you rolled your eyes, he knows you could never deny him with those gorgeous orbs of his. 

“You’re too adorable, Tooru.”

You join him in bed and almost instantly are you wrapped around his toned arms, drawing your tiny frame closer to his warmth, he presses play on the remote and the movie begins playing, you laid comfortably on his bare chest tracing unknown forms on the toned muscle. Oikawa catches your hand, halting your movements you look up to him in question and a devious smirk decorates his pretty face, moving your hand down to his hardening member. Guiding your hand to palm him through his sweats, you take initiative and squeezing down on his length earning a breathless moan as he allows you to please him. 

“Help me relax, princess.”

“Tooru.”you whispered out and as a response he runs his hand down your side, hiking up the oversized shirt and groaning when he notices the lack of panties, he shifts to sit stop his stomach and his hands find purchase on your hips rubbing smooth circles on the protruding bones. “Princess, make daddy feel good.”he rasps out, your pussy clenches on nothing and you’re quite sure he can feel your juices leking onto him, “Yes, daddy.”shifting your position between his legs before pulling on the waistband of his sweats with your teeth, slowly pulling it off his body. “So big, daddy.”you drool at the sight of his large manhood, pussy slick in need to be stuffed, giving him few pumps and leaving kitten kisses on the slit before you take him in your mouth, hallowing your cheeks to take completely take his size, his hips buck up and his manhood hits the back of your throat causing you to gag around him but it only encourages him as he takes your hair and pushing your lower on his cock. You bob your head up and down, tongue outlining the prominent vein, hands gently massaging his balls to further please him, this time he tugs your hair pulling you off his cock.

“Sit on daddy.”You move to hover over his throbbing length before slowly sitting yourself on his, a hiss leaves your lips as his stretches your little cunt, “Daddy!”you cry out when he bottoms out in you, tip already against your cervix, you try to get used to his size but he was impatient and grips your hips lifting you up and dropping you back down on him, drawing a pornographic moan from the both of you. His thumbs your clit as he continues to fuck you, his hips coming to meet you halfway allowing his cock to sink deeper inside you and you’re seeing stars, he pace was not slowing you knew your orgasm was close. Your stomach tightens, your nails raking down his chest as his rubs harder circles on your clit, your clenching tightly around him and your pussy pulse as your orgasm comes crashing down. Your body slumps but he thrusts harder into as he chases his own high, his hips become sporadic before spilling his hot load inside you, filling you up nice and full.

You slowly roll of him, moaning leaving your lips as his softening dick slides out of you, returning back to your cuddling position, nuzzling yourself to his warm body and planting a sweet kiss to his lips.

“Thank you, princess. Nightie time.” 

//

hey hey! was feeling out of it. shits been going on and I’ve finally found time to write, if yah enjoyed this leave a like and comment, have a great day! jaa ne!

happy happy birthday Sakusa, babe 💕

all the love xx

[castielgurl]

Football is a game, Love is like a battlefield

Romanogers Week

Prompt: Enemy to lovers

Natasha Romanoff is a football player of Russian descent. Red-haired with a dreadlock style, she likes to wear piercing on her nose and hates makeup. She likes to change the color of her hair, sometimes braided or even short hair exactly like a man. She is very fierce and does not care about negative comments on her Instagram page. As a famous female soccer star, she is often the victim of attacks by male soccer fans. They said she shouldn't play football, it's better to stay in the kitchen. Just because she’s a women’s soccer player. Natasha is often involved in anti-social media bullying campaigns.

 Natasha is now at the peak of her career. She has joined the big London -born club Chelsea Woman`s FC with the highest transfer value in the market. Has won the Women's English Premier League. Won the European Cup with her country Russia. She is a midfielder who is the team captain for her club and country. Natasha has just been awarded European Player of the Year. Natasha is a person known for her assertive leader character and violent style of play. However, Natasha's life changed forever when she met her future husband.

 Steve Rogers had a bad boy image. Even so, he became a young girl’s craze pretending to know about football. Because he is a tall, lean body, six-pack, white skin, blonde hair. Every time he played football, the girls would scream like they were hysteria. Steve has of course been dating a bunch of beautiful women from models to a famous actresses.

 Like Natasha, Steve is also a world-famous football player. He represents Chelsea FC, has won the Premier League title three times. Won the Champions League with Chelsea with him as the top scorer. Steve also represented his country USA at the World Cup. He is the captain of his club and country team. Steve is a striker who is known for his fast running style and energy as strong as a bodybuilder. Steve has won World Player of the Year twice.

 Because they play at the same club. The two finally met on the training ground. The training fields for male and female players are only separated by a fence. Since the two of them have opposite characters of course disaster is about to happen.

 It all started just because of a ball. Steve was challenged by his teammates for a crossbar challenge he kicked too hard accidentally falling into the women’s training field area. The ball, unfortunately, hit right on Natasha's head. Natasha's face flushed with anger. She then shouted and ask who kicked the ball earlier. Natasha took the ball, she knew the ball did not belong to the women’s team. Natasha went across the fence to the men's field area and kicked the ball hard against the body of one of the male players. He was not in pain but the player turned around.

 “Who is the dumbass who kicked the ball? You better talk now! ” Natasha's voice was fierce.

 "Eh, why are you shouting. Are you on your period? ” The blonde man laughed cynically.

 Natasha was very angry, not that she didn't know who the player was. Steve Rogers aka football Hollywood star. But Natasha didn't care who he was.

 “Are you too stupid? Don't know how to play football? Why do you kick the ball and hit people`s heads? You want my feet to reach your face? ” Natasha insisted on fighting even though she is too tiny and Steve was six feet tall.

 Steve laughed when he heard this little woman scold him. He was not immediately intimidated by Natasha's threats. She was like a puppy that barked loudly but was too cute. This woman with dreadlock hair reminds him of rapper Snoop Dog.

 “This is a football field, what do you expect? of course, the ball flying everywhere why are you so angry? If the ball hits your face that's a good sign. At least it can fix your face” Said Steve as his friends laughed as well.

 Natasha's face grew red. Then she tries to elbow Steve's. Steve wants to fight back but his friends stop him. They said he only looked like a coward if he hit a woman. Steve assured his teammates he would not use the physical.

 "You are too rude. Do you think you're good-looking? I know guys like you, playboys, and sleep with a lot of women. But the fact is you are nothing. No one loves you. They are just riding on your success. ” Natasha stared sharply into Steve's eyes. That's when Steve slightly faded his ego. Because the green woman's eyes were so beautiful Steve admitted it. But he returned with his ego.

 "I am not afraid of you. Your body is small. I can carry you and keep you in my pocket ”said Steve with a cynical smile.

 "You start first. Why don't you just apologize? ” Natasha doesn't understand.

 "If you are still not satisfied. What do you say we play a game? Whoever wins will have the right to ask the losers to do what they want. ” Steve wanted to challenge her.

 "What game?" Natasha asked

 “We play matches with five players per team like 5-A Side. We play on the East End outdoor field boys versus girls. What do you want to say? ” Steve is sure Natasha did not back down from a challenge.

 “Well, we will meet tomorrow at 5 after training. But you have to do what I want. Don't begging when you lose later ”Natasha did not hesitate to agree. She wanted to teach this man a lesson.

 "Fine, I will see you tomorrow Snoop Dog," Steve said while laughing at Natasha's reaction.

 Natasha’s teammate asks her if she seriously wants to fight with the men’s team. Natasha is sure they can win.

 "Nat, are you sure about fighting with male players. They are not ordinary players. They have just won the European League they are World-class players. Steve is a highly-skilled player. ” Her friend Yelena tries to change Nat's mind.

 "Hey, don't be afraid, we are also the best team in Europe. Male and female players are the same. What matters is the strategy to win. We are equal with them. After all, Rogers needs to be taught a lesson. If his team loses he and his team must wear a drag queen costume. Imagine how funny that is. ”Natasha was convinced

 "I think Steve is hot. How can you talk to him, if it happens to me I will be speechless ”said Yelena who is a Rogers fan

 “Hey, don't you see that asshole? You didn't hear him call me Snoop Dog. ”Natasha cannot believe Yelena.

 Yelena continued to laugh out loud. She admits it's very funny. Yet Steve spoke the right thing. Natasha is not good at dress up. Many times Yelena wants to do a makeover with Natasha. But she rejected it because she thought the way she dressed was not important because the performance is what matters.

 “Really? You laughing. Well, his face is not bad. But on the condition that he cannot speak up. On his forehead he should be written Jerk, then people will stay away from him ”Natasha really hated Steve's sloppy mouth.

 "Nat, you have to be careful because too much hate can lead to love" Yelena teased

 "Hey you don't see us anymore we are the worst enemies from the past life"

 The next day.

 Natasha has selected five players including herself Maria, Wanda, Yelena, and Hope to represent her team. While Steve chooses Bucky, Sam, Scott, and Clint on his side.

 "You call me Snoop Dog, I also have a bad name for you" Natasha and Steve meet in the middle of the field before the match starts

 "What is it?" Steve stood with his hands on his hips

 “Barbie Kent. If your team loses you have to wear a women’s dress to the training session. You will definitely lose ”Natasha said confidently

 “Woww you are playing dirty now huh?. If your team loses you and your friends have to wash my car in a bikini ”Steve said with a smirk.

 Natasha should teach this man a lesson.

 Natasha’s team took the lead with a goal from Wanda. Steve initially wanted his friend’s not to play rough because they were girls. But after the goal, Steve told his teammates to use their full strength. After that, a lot of fouls ensued. Steve's team managed to score two goals from Steve`s. The match was not the most interesting but various incidents of fights between Steve and Natasha quarreling over various issues. Everyone was so depressed to see them both throwing hurtful words at each other. The sexual tension between them is very obvious. Before the end of the match, Natasha successfully scored an equalizer. She jumped for joy in front of Steve. Yet drama ensued when Natasha’s team asked the referee to consider a penalty when Bucky tackled Maria inside the box but was objected to by Steve. Eventually, they quarreled and everyone else was only able to see them quarrel. All the players have given up and just want to end the match. The result of the match ended in a draw. No one loses no one wins.

 “Why don't you two go in the room and just make love? Seriously that's the solution to your problem, ”Scott told them

 Their reactions were both disbelieving and showing disgusted faces thinking they were both going to have sex. Natasha definitely wants to vomit. Eventually, they returned to their respective homes feeling dissatisfied.

 Then every day Natasha bumps into Steve. Because they practice in the same building. Somehow every day will definitely come across. Natasha wanted to avoid seeing Steve's arrogant face. They will meet before entering the training ground, in the club cafe, in the gym, in the parking lot, in the elevator. Wherever they will surely meet. Every time Steve would tease Natasha he deliberately wanted to make her mad. Call her Snoopy, and ask when she will release a new rap song and so on. Of course, Natasha hates Steve’s jokes. Natasha will also ask where he is partying with the barbies.

 Steve's day was not complete if he didn't see the redhead's face every day. Natasha's face flushed when she was angry, her husky voice when she grunts, he loved hearing Natasha fight back when Steve teased her. She was a bit funny when angry, she was a little fierce but she looks cute when her face was red, she will bite her lips when she felt disgusted with the words Steve threw, it was a sexy lip for Steve. Also, her tiny size when trying to standing on her toes. Steve has met many pretty women, yet Natasha catches his eye. Natasha is not the same as other women. Honestly, Natasha is very beautiful but if she changes her appearance, surely many men will chase after her. Steve imagines she wearing a red dress with curly hair for sure he will be mesmerized. She is just as passionate about football as he is. Most of the girls he met were not interested in football. Steve searches all the information about Natasha on the internet and stalks her Instagram. His teammates knew Steve had lost his mind over the red-haired woman.

 But the question is does Natasha want to accept him? And how does he get started? The woman must have hated him so much.

 Then the football season is about to end, all the players will take a summer vacation. After that, they will join the national training camp in preparation for the World Cup. The Chelsea club hosted a Gala Night to award the club’s best players for the season. This season the club combines an awards ceremony for the men’s team and the women’s team.

 When Natasha Romanoff’s name was announced as the Women`s Player of the 2021 season she took on the stage. Steve and all his teammates were speechless as she wore a sexy red gown. Her hair was styled in a curled and she ditched her piercing. She's the most beautiful woman Steve has ever seen. Steve starts to feel jealous because all the men are focused on her. Steve doesn't like other men looking at his women.

 After Steve received the best player award for the third year he wanted to take his boots in the club boot`s storage room. But something unexpected happened Natasha was also there. Natasha thought Steve was going to make a nonsensical joke because of the dress she was wearing tonight. Natasha hates wearing it she was forced by Yelena. Yet Steve didn't say anything to her surprise.

 “Why don`t you say something, like a bad joke? Yelena picks this dress ”Natasha expected a response from Steve.

 “Why should I do that? Do you want me to fight with you until we are both old? ” Steve continued to pick up his boots on the top rack.

 Natasha came to stand behind Steve. “What is wrong with you today? This is not you. ”Natasha knew something was wrong

 “Do you know who I am? Do you really know me? ” Steve turned and stared into Natasha's eyes. Inside he wanted to drag the woman into his arms. Because she looks so pretty tonight. But he keeps his composure.

 The question startled Natasha.

 "I just don't understand why you like to fight with me. There are many more female players out there that you can choose to fight. ” Natasha still doesn't understand what Steve's intentions are.

 “You really want to know the truth. Well, I'll tell you now. Because I love to see your angry face, I love to see your red face, your lips, your staring eyes, your sexy voice, your feet when trying to stand on your toes, your style before kicking the ball. You are really cute. I like you Natasha ”Steve approached Natasha closer

 Natasha doesn't believe in Steve Rogers' words. Maybe he drank too much alcohol.

 "Actually I love you, Natasha Romanoff. All I do is to get your attention. ” Steve said as he stared into Natasha's eyes.

Then Steve grabbed Natasha's chin and kissed her lips. Natasha froze and couldn't resist the man's kiss. Then she realized and pushed him away and ran out of the room.

 When she returned home Natasha could not sleep. Her heart was pounding after being kissed by Steve Rogers. What the hell? Steve Rogers expressed his feelings to her. Natasha turned to the right and to the left trying to forget the man but in her heart, it was like in turmoil. She thought Steve hated her and she hated him too. Yet she turned out to be wrong and unable to resist his charmed. Kissed by Steve like she was struck by lightning.

 The next day Natasha and Steve meet again on the training ground. Natasha looked at Steve from a distance and waited if the man wanted to taunt her or laugh at her. But he was so different he just kept quiet and even stole Natasha's gaze when he thought Natasha wasn't looking at him. And when Steve and Natasha meet in the hallway Steve stares at Natasha's face. Like Natasha is the only person who is on his mind every day. Steve and Natasha just stood nearby and stared at each other. Their teammates bump them who were staring into each other’s eyes. Wondering what really happened between the two of them.

 A few weeks later Natasha and Steve flew to Qatar to compete in the World Cup. For the first time, the men’s team and the women’s team will compete at the same time. Natasha and Steve both focused on the biggest tournament of their careers. Natasha, who represented Russia, excelled in the competition. And her team managed to win the World Cup for the first time. But of course, attention is given to men's football. Steve Rogers stole the show by winning the golden boots award and Player of the tournament. Even though the USA only made it to the semi-finals, it was still an incredible achievement. Natasha watched the semi-finals matched in the stadium with the fans. Steve spotted the red-haired woman easily despite a hundred thousand people in the stadium. Natasha let her hair down and donned a USA jersey while cheering for his team.

 Natasha then turned around to show the jersey she was wearing with Rogers' name on the back. Steve smiled when he saw that and she giving him a flying kiss.

 After the match, Natasha and Steve met in the tunnel. Their teammates force them to acknowledge each other’s feelings.

 "I also really like you, Steve Rogers. So are we going to date now? ”Natasha asked Steve.

 "There are only two things in my mind that are football and you. You drive me crazy. Let`s date then ”Steve said while opening his both arms.

 Natasha who is only five feet three tall looks cute jumping to hug Steve Rogers who is six feet tall.

 "Even though I didn't win this match, but I won your heart," Steve said as he swings around Natasha on the air. Then they kissed in the tunnel of the football stadium. The kiss happened so passionately that they didn’t notice the photographer was taking a picture of them. The breaking news when the two big stars of world football are couple overshadow the story of the England team winning the World Cup.

 A few years later Steve Rogers and Natasha were about to get married and it became the wedding of the year as the union of the two best football stars in the world had sparked a phenomenon. All the tabloid newspapers have already started figuring out how their child will be born later because he or she is will definitely a great football player because of the DNA of both their parents.

[greenninjagal-blog]

Loop Number Three Hundred Twelve

Hello who wants a quick one shot about Time Loops!

Summary: Patton is having a really bad day, and Virgil and Janus might just have a fix. He just wishes he found them three hundred loops ago.

Word Count: 5453

Quick Taglist: @alias290 @chelsvans @coyboi300 @dante-reblogs @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @harrypotternerdprincess @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @mrbubbajones  @musical-nerd18 @nonasficcollection @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @the-sunshine-dims @themagicheartmailman @themultishipperchild @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws @welovelogansanders  

Read on AO3 || My General Writing Masterlist

Janus is folding origami snakes when Virgil finds him. 

Which, in itself, is not new or unusual. Janus has been making origami creatures since before Virgil had ever met him: cutting perfect squares of papers, folding along invisible lines, creating something new from the boringness. Some people like making tiny stars, but Janus turns squares of paper into pocket sized friends. Some of Virgils’s favorite presents are books in which he found little purple and gold paper spiders tucked between the pages, or the cranes that he unfolded to find little sweet and sappy messages for him, or when he was emptying out his school bag and found butterflies hidden in the depths, left there with care and love and waiting to be discovered on a rainy day.

Janus folds origami and Virgil keeps every single one he’s ever gotten his hands on-- sometimes even going as far as to dig the few Janus recycled out of the bin and keep them in his collection.

So the origami isn’t necessarily new or weird or confusing. 

Finding him behind the school building, cutting class to fold them is.

Janus is, despite his outward appearance and his claims to the otherwise, a huge nerd. Virgil finds that adorable about him: the way he gets excited to go to school and learn something new, the bounce in his step when he was heading towards his psychology class, the rumbling of his words when he forgot to take a breath while describing history to him. He’s a nerd who reads autobiographies with crappy romance novel covers strapped on them and begs Virgil to watch the new Netflix documentaries with him.

When they had been seven, Janus had been very adamant about being a host on the History Channel. Virgil had been interested as long as he got to be the guy that went out and found Mothman to invite on to Janus’s show. 

(Sometimes Virgil finds himself missing the simplicity of being seven-years-old and knowing what he wants to do with his life.)

Still Janus isn’t the type to cut class usually. Playing hookie was Virgil’s game, not his. But Janus hadn’t shown up to meet him outside his locker at the break between their classes, and Virgil had made the decision that locating Janus took priority over Personal Finance. 

 Its nice outside, far nicer than it has any right to be. The sun is shining, with just enough heat to make Virgil consider taking off his jacket (he doesn’t), a breeze carries through the air playing with his bangs, and the bells had just rang so everyone is in class and not outside. There’s barely any noise out here: a zombie apocalypse  picturesque scene. It used to unnerve him, but now it just gives him peace of mind.

Behind the school is his fifth place to check, right behind: the far corner of the library that Janus likes to power nap in during lunch, the stairwell to the roof that is supposed to be locked but they’d jimmied open last year, Janus’s actual class where his seat was empty and several kids glanced at Virgil as he had scurried by, and the parking lot where Virgil checked to make sure that Janus hadn’t just driven away and left him in this hell alone without even a text message goodbye. 

Janus is, in fact, still at the school, sitting in grass against the wall of the school that faces the parking lot. If Virgil hadn’t been looking for him, he might have mistaken him for a dark shrub or the Art Club's newest modern art installation. His bag is next to him, half his books spilling out into the lawn and at least a whole tree’s worth of folded paper around him. The piles of origami snakes remind Virgil of noodles, a mixture of colors and then twice as many in just plain white. 

“Hey,” Virgil says, approaching slowly in case this is one of those times when Janus wants to be alone more than he wants to feel alone. 

Janus folds another crease with the edge of his thumb nail and throws his sloppily made friend into the pile with the others. There’s a stack of pre-cut paper next to him, but it's all loose leaf paper. Which meant that he had folded his way through his stash of actual origami colored paper, which meant that he had been doing this since a lot longer than before second block, like Virgil feared.

Janus sighs thumping his head back against the brick walls and picks up another sheet. Virgil takes that as a sign to sit down next to him. He drops his bag off at his feet and reaches around the assortment of pins (Xmen, Marvel, gay flag, banned books week, one from a video game he liked the art of but had never played, etc) to unzip the smallest pocket. He pulls out another stack of the thin paper in an assortment of colors and places it on top of Janus’s current stack.

“So,” Virgil says, picking a snake off the ground. “Wanna talk about it?”

Janus flips the snake over and begins the process of folding the tail, ruthlessly. “Do I want to talk about it,” He echoes sourly, pressing each fold like it was a matter of life and death. “No, I do not want to talk about it. Because its stupid and a waste of time and I shouldn’t care but I still do and you have so many better things to do than listen to me whine about Patton Hart, yet again!”

Janus folds the head down and then stars into the empty eyes with a glare.

Virgil points his own snake at Janus and wiggles it a bit, “If its bothering you this much, then it can’t be stupid. And besides I love hearing about how much you hate Patton Hart. What did he do this time?”

“I don’t hate…” Janus lets out a sigh, “He didn’t do anything. In fact he didn’t even show up to class today. I heard a couple sophomores say he was acting funny earlier so I assume he went home early.”

Virgil frowns at that, trying to think back to the morning. He’d been running late and preoccupied with a Spanish test that he had forgotten he had first block, but he does remember seeing Roman and Patton in the halls. They hadn’t been holding hands like usual, which is probably why it stuck in Virgil’s head. They were the most lovey-dovey couple in the whole school: holding hands, kissing, flamboyant declarations of love... Virgil has nightmares about the way that Roman had asked Patton to Prom Junior year and had made Janus swear that if he ever plans on taking Virgil to a dance, he wouldn’t do it with glitter, the marching band, and in front of the whole school.

Patton had also looked different, Virgil remembers. Less cheery, more despondent. He had a smile on his face, but it looked forced and his eyes were glazed over like he wasn’t listening to anything at all.

Which, okay, fair. Roman tended to say the same things every day but phrased them differently. There were really only oh-so-many ways to say the words “I love you” and Roman had used up all of them in freshman year.

“So he wasn’t there,” Virgil says, shrugs, and takes a moment of silence to hope that Patton is getting some well needed sleep: Patton is one of those guys that just...finds a way to be involved with everything. Bake sales, choir, poetry club, talent show, office runner, treasurer of the student council-- if there’s something anyone needs to get done, Patton probably can do it. Not to mention he’s the nicest person Virgil has ever met. He honestly sees the good in people and its a shame that he’s dating Roman, because otherwise he and Janus would have invited him into their relationship a while ago.

(Roman isn’t exactly someone Janus or Virgil could stand on a weekly basis, much less daily. Virgil is pretty sure if Roman ever tried any romantic shit that he pulls on Patton, on Virgil he’ll spontaneously combust. Janus gets hives from being in close proximity to the gooey lovefest that Roman brings around any time he opens his mouth. And of course, Roman isn’t the type to share anything.)

((Ninety percent of their relationship these days is locking eyes while Roman did something and fake gagging like the mature adults they were.))

“What’s the big de--” Virgil stops, “Wait, isn’t debate today?”

“And take a guess who was my partner,” Janus summarizes. He tosses the snake to the ground and picks up another sheet of paper. “He...The Dragon Witch immediately failed me because he didn’t….and I couldn’t…”

He messes up the fold because his fingers are shaking too much. Virgil gently reaches out and takes the paper from his fingertips. It floats down to join the other snakes, and Virgil gives Janus’s hands a squeeze. 

There’s a welt of anger in his chest, bubbling up in a nice simmer. He hates the Dragon Witch, although he’s never had her class or even knows her real name (Roman had coined the title in freshman year back when he had been a benchwarmer for the football team and it had caught on until the whole school used it). She’s known for being generally awful to every student that came in, a little unhinged, and even her own daughter-- a girl in the grade below them-- agrees that nobody wants to be in her class. Unfortunately, despite the many protests held by small pockets of students, the Dragon Witch has tenure and the school board’s stance is “if it isn’t broken, don’t fix it”. Ergo, she still lives on this plane of existence and Virgil thinks about egging her car often. Probably too often.

“Its stupid,” Janus repeats and the cavity where Virgil’s heart should be aches a little for him, “I know she’s had it out for me. Ever since that first day when I pointed out all the books on the syllabus were written by rich white men. But it was just… I felt really good about this one, Vee.” 

Virgil knows this. Janus had been practically vibrating since the assignment had been given out. He’d gone above and beyond with his research for the topic-- something about selflessness that had gone straight over Virgil’s head when Janus had been talking about it. Patton hadn’t even been that bad of a partner, Janus had said, despite never having time to practice for it. They had exchanged numbers and texted details and notes to one another all week.

If Virgil hadn’t spent most of the afternoons lying next to Janus playing League of Legends and listening to Janus’s black pen scratch out preparation notes, he might have been jealous of how much attention Janus had been giving Patton. (and vise versa.)

“We were going to win,” Janus says softly. “And then Patton decided to just not show the fuck up! Why can’t I count on anyone but you? Why must I suffer in a world full of idiots?”

“Hey, at least he’s cute,” Virgil says.

“At least he’s cute,” Janus agrees, resignedly. “Do you think he’s going to break up with Roman?”

Virgil shrugs, “Do you want to ask him to join us if he does?”

“I would never pass up an opportunity to spite Roman like that,” Janus says, which is actually code for “I would never pass up an opportunity to dote on Patton and Virgil, do you think he’ll let us paint his nails, I have the perfect shade of blue to match his shoelaces--” 

(They’ve had this conversation at least once every season since Janus had caught Virgil sighing at the smaller boy in the halls midway through freshman year.)

Janus wiggles his hands from Virgil’s and picks up the unfinished snake but its softer now, less angry and more care. When he completes it, he points it at Virgil and offers a guilty half smile.

“Sorry for making you miss class.” 

Virgil wants to laugh because really that was the last thing on his mind right now. He shuffles through the snakes on the ground picking out his favorites to add to his collection. “Nah, its cool. You can just do my taxes and budgeting in the future and we’ll call it even. What are you gonna do with all of these?”

Janus hums, looking at all of them, “Maybe we can hide them around school to confuse people.”

“Can we write “you’re next” in a red pen on the inside of them?” Virgil asks with a grin, “like some horror movie shit?”

“Whatever you desire, darling,” Janus says and Virgil is incredibly grateful that he’s in love with his best friend. Virgil doesn’t usually count himself as lucky, but Janus had to be some kind of miracle: a person who understood Virgil the way that no one else ever bothered to. Janus has the type of laughter that makes everyone else want to laugh as well, the type of smile that begs for mischief, the type of loyalty that reassures Virgil no matter what happens they have each other’s backs.

Also he’s pretty, and Virgil likes staring at pretty things.

Janus leans forward and gives him a peck on his cheek. “Thank you.”

“You missed,” Virgil says with a stupid ass smile, because he’s stupidly in love and wouldn’t have it any other way.

Janus rolls his eyes very fondly and leans in again, until Virgil can see every shade of brown and green in his mismatched eyes, until he can feel Janus’s breath on his face, until Virgil loses track of the nanometers between them. Virgil’s eyes are half closed already, anticipating how the rest of their newly established free time is going to be spent and not feeling a speck of embarrassment or guilt about it--

And then he sees the movement out of the corner of his eyes and freezes up. He’s certain without looking that it is a teacher and oh god they were going to get expelled for something. There’s too much stuff around them-- their bags, the millions of snakes, their own bodies-- and even if they left everything there they’d surely get found out from that stuff, and then the school would call his mom and Virgil did not want to have that conversation with her again. 

But then he does look and its not a teacher at all. Virgil blinks, once, twice to make sure he’s seeing things correctly.

“Virgil?” Janus says, still several centimetres away from kissing him and obviously aware of how Virgil had tensed to high hell.

“I thought you said that Patton went home sick,” Virgil says absently.

Janus sits back, following his line of sight to the corner of the building where-- sure enough-- Patton Hart was walking without a care in the entire world. He was dressed differently today than Virgil remembered him ever dressing: the memories of his polo and his cardigan give way to the reality of sweatpants and a soft sweater that cannot be comfortable in the heat of the day. Virgil tries to remember if that’s what Patton had been wearing earlier and… yeah it was. From this distance Virgil can’t tell the look on his face, but he doesn’t look like he’s worried at all.

He’s walking with a purpose. And that purpose looks angry. 

“Does Patton have a car?” Janus asks.

“I don’t...think so…” Virgil says tracking Patton’s progress across the lawn.

“Then who’s keys does he have in his hand?” Janus says not entirely rhetorical.

With barely a nod between the two of them, they scoop all the paper snakes into Virgil’s bag and take off after him.

Its extremely weird, Virgil thinks. Because its so quiet that their footsteps sound like slaps, and they have to duck around a red truck to avoid Patton’s glance back. Janus crouches delicately, slinking between the cars and Virgil wastes a moment watching how gracefully he moves. 

He’s like water flowing, controlled and effortless and an undercurrent of power. Virgil doesn’t doubt his ability to fight right this moment, doesn’t doubt his killer left hook, or his dirty fighting tactics that Janus picked up in the name of self defense and preservation. Virgil’s body hums with adrenaline as he watches Janus follow after Patton.

He leans against a jeep that doesn’t actually have a parking pass but no one’s complained about it and Janus peeks around the bummer to see where Patton was heading.

For a second, Virgil thought he was going after Janus’s car-- the little gold mazada 3 thats a year and a half old and a gift from his parents. He’s just about to yell, to scream, to ward Patton off, because it was already shitty of him to not show up to the debate, but touching Janus’s car? That’s like super assholeish and Virgil has never once wanted to call Patton an asshole.

Janus, however, is quicker and covers his mouth with his hand. “Look, I think...he’s crying,”

“What?” Virgil whispers, squinting-- oh shit, he should probably get an appointment to update his contacts soon -- and Patton is crying. Its the silent type of crying that's born from using a smile to hide the hurt too much and Virgil immediately decides that Patton doesn’t deserve that ever. He feels each one of those tears like a punch to the gut, each soft barely audible gasp like a knee to his jaw, each sniffle like an elbow to the back of his head.

Patton storms past Janus’s car and goes straight to the fiery red Prius that Roman (and his twin Remus) share.

“Oh my god,” Virgil breathes at the same time as Patton takes the blade of a key to the side of the car.

The noise is awful. Janus flinches curling into Virgil as they watch with morbid fascination: Patton doesn’t waver, doesn’t hesitate as he carves deep into the paint and the metal, perfecting each and every letter.

By the time he’s finished, he’s bawling big fat crocodile tears that soak all turn all his cheeks puffy and soak the collar of his sweater and Virgil’s stomach is a twisted knot of emotions he doesn’t know what to do with.

“FUCK OFF” written on the side of Roman’s car explains things very well, anyway.

Patton drops the keys on the ground and then follows after in such a dead weight fall that Virgil feels the shockwaves from where he is. He curls in on himself, sobbing horrible, gut-wrenching howls of pain.

Janus leaps around Virgil to run after him, and Virgil only stumbles slightly trying to come with him. 

“I didn’t…” Janus says, loudly--loud enough to make Patton jump and Virgil flinch and the empty parking lot feel crowded, “I didn’t know you were into Modern Art, Patton.”

Virgil thinks that if it were any other situation, he might have snorted. But when Patton turns to them with his blue eyes so full of tears that Virgil thinks he might drown in them, he forgets every other thought he has had.

Its just...rage.

“I’ll kill him.”

And Virgil means it, the same way he says that the sky is blue, or that he won't take off his sweatshirt, that he loves Janus with all his soul. He means that he will go right back into that building and search through every single fucking classroom until he finds wherever Roman spends his third class of the day and then he’ll drag him out to the parking lot by his stupid perfect hair and run him over a couple hundred times.

Virgil will go to jail for manslaughter and he wouldn’t even feel sorry.

Patton lets out a shuddering sob and frantically tries to wipe away his ugly tears, making noises that Virgil assumes are meant to be words but they come out scrambled and grated and wrong. And Patton who’s never done a single mean thing in all the time that Virgil has known of him, does not deserve to feel a hurt that bad. How dare Roman make him feel a pain that bad.

Virgil rolls up his sleeves and spins on his heel to go take care of the issue-- but Janus catches him by his hood and yanks him back.

“Patton,” Janus says softly (a tone that's normally reserved for two AM sleepovers and lazy saturday movie marathons and sad boi hours that come and go like the seasons), “What can we do?”

Patton lets out a shriek, and when he looks back up there’s no sadness. Its a fury, an anger, its frustration that boiled into a suffocating gas and Virgil guess that he’s not going to need to end Roman’s life because Patton is perfectly capable of doing himself.

“You can shut the hell up!” Patton screams, “And Leave me the fuck alone!”

Virgil and Janus share a look.

And well...Virgil has been breaking rules since he was a kid and Janus isn’t the type of follow orders simply because. Without discussing anything they both sit down next to Patton, and Virgil starts pulling out the origami paper again.

“What are you doing?” Patton hisses in a way that Virgil has never once seen him do. His fingers shake, but he keeps himself calm and cool and collected.

“Its called origami,” Janus says, although he knows very well that’s not what Patton was asking. Virgil watches his fingers flick in the air, a mesmerizing dance that once Patton looks at he couldn’t look away from. 

Patton’s tears drop, his face is still puffy and dangerous, but Janus says nothing about it. Virgil holds his breath and watches as Janus folds, unfolds, pinches, twists the paper into a jumping frog. He sets it out on his palm and lets Patton stare at it like it holds the secrets of the universe.

“I like making things when I get upset,” Janus says. “Would you like me to teach you?”

“I…” Patton sniffles, rubbing away his tears again. He sounds so small and insignificant that Virgil wants to wrap his arms around him and protect him from everything. “Why…?”

“I know how to do many animals,” Janus continues on, “frogs, snakes, spiders, cranes… Or we can just fold paper in any way we want to, too.”

Patton is silent. Janus picks up another piece of paper and begins folding it in half. There’s a breeze through the parking lot, colder than before, bitter and smarting. Virgil tugs the sleeves of his jacket over his hands and tries not to wonder what happened to the sun. 

“The motion is calming to me,” Janus explains, “I like the creation of something new and different, the repetition--”

There’s a huff.

A snort.

And then...well then Patton is laughing a terribly wet, mean laugh. Janus pauses halfway through folding the head of the frog to make sure Patton hasn't been replaced by a skinwalking alien wearing Patton’s face, and Virgil can’t really blame him at all. The small boy kneels over laughing so hard he ends up gasping for breath and Virgil shivers at how the noise steals all the warmth from the air.

“Fucking stupid,” Patton manages, through gasps that sound suspiciously like whimpers. “Everything is so fucking stupid.” 

“I see someone taught the five-year-old a new swear word,” Janus says. “Who was it? Remus?”

“Just go away, Janus,” Patton says, laying his head on the asphalt.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Janus tuts finishing off his second frog, “You really don’t know where that piece of road has been.”

“Actually I do!” Patton bolts upright, “I do know! Its been right here! Its been here no matter what’s happened, never moving, never changing, and even if I marked it with chalk or paint or took a jackhammer to it or blew it the fuck up it will still be here when I wake up tomorrow! Now fuck off!”

Virgil blinks, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. 

“I am learning so many things about you today, Patton,” Janus says without missing a beat. He picks up another sheet of paper, “You’re into modern art, you’re passionate about parking lots...my, my, my. Perhaps we should have done our debate on road construction instead. Would you have bothered to show up then?”

“Like it matters.” Patton says, even more unlike himself. Virgil thinks he’s seen Patton overbook himself for commitments more times than he can count and apologies are nearly always coupled with food of some sort: cookies, fudge, pasta salad. Sometimes even to things he never even said he could be there for. Patton is more apologetic than Virgil ever has been, and Virgil likes to apologize for existing.

But here is a Patton, or a version of him, that seems so defeated, so angry, so sad and upset and miserable that he’s just...given up. Consequences be damned.

“We lose,” Patton says looking up at the sky, “We lose because Mrs. Hydrus hates you, Janus, and so she makes us do it without any notes, then every time you stumble, she interrupts and asks for clarification despite being the moderator, and she cuts down our time by a whole minute. And when you say anything back to her she sends you to the principal's office and gives us a zero for the assignment, anyway. We lose. But its fine because you never remember anyway and then you get to wake up and be humiliated all over again. And it doesn’t matter what I do! Okay? We lose!”

Janus stops folding his frog and turns to look directly at Patton. Virgil is too, and he can scarcely breathe.

“What did you just say?”

Patton turns to face him swiping away another round of tears. “Go ahead, Virgil! You’re just like everyone else. Go and call me c-crazy! Tell me I’m insane! T-take me to the doctors! Whatever! I’m so t-tired of this and I can’t even die.”

Virgil swallows hard. There’s a lump in the back of his throat, a lump that’s growing until he can barely breathe around it. Janus brings a hand up to his mouth like he might be sick right there on the concrete. 

“Patton…” Virgil breathes. “Are you a paper frog?”

Patton stares at him like he’s stupid so Virgil reaches out with shaky hands and picks up one of the finished frogs from the ground. He carefully unfolds it, piece-by-piece, until its back to the original square. Then he holds it up for Patton to see, and begins to refold it the way that Janus had.

“Are you,” Virgil asks, “being refolded like a paper frog?”

Patton’s face says everything.

“H-how,” Janus asks, “how many times?”

The other boy blinks long and slow and sniffles. “I-I don’t know. Around three hundred twelve? Maybe? I lost count so long ago.”

“Three hundred twel--” Virgil repeats, “Holy shit, Pat! That’s almost a year.”

“Why didn’t you come to us?” Janus asks, although they all know why really. Despite them being debate partners, Patton and Janus don’t talk. Janus and Virgil admire him from afar, and only talk to him in passing. For the longest time Virgil didn’t even know if Patton knew his name, and now they’re sitting here wondering why strangers would ever interact with one another?

“What about…” Virgil motions to the car, the keys, the fun words written in the red paint.

Patton shakes his head so hard his body trembles. “He doesn’t...he never...I tried so so hard but its so much easier to leave him be. It takes so much to convince him and then… then its not a true love’s kiss solution.”

Virgil’s gut twists just thinking about that. About how many times that Roman made him prove that he had seen everything before, and then for a kiss not to work when they both were head over heels in love with each other and then waking up again, convincing Roman again, then telling him the kiss didn’t work? Virgil could guess it didn’t go over well at all. 

Knowing Roman it had probably dissolved into a “we’re not meant for each other?”, followed by a “i will always love you no matter what.” , and finished with a “If it will save you from this loop then we’ll have to break up”.

From the sight of the keys on the ground, Virgil can guess how far it went this time.

“I do love him,” Patton says almost desperately. “I do, I do, I do! I swear I love him so much--”

Janus puts a hand on Patton’s shoulder and he falls silent immediately. “I believe you,” Janus says, “I’ve seen the way you look at him, Patton. No one here thinks that the two of you aren’t perfect for each other.”

Its a pain to admit because its friendzoning both of them right now, but Virgil would weather that if it meant Patton wouldn’t sound so heartbroken. Janus meets his eyes over Patton’s shoulder and gives him a nod. At least they’re on the same page for this.

“Three hundred twelve time loops,” Virgil says, “does not sound like it was fun at all.”

“Are any loops fun?” Janus asks.

“Fruit loops are fun,” Patton sniffles again. He rubs his eyes and hunches over in his sweatshirt. “Do you guys...do you guys really believe me?”

Janus’s lips curve into a wry smile, “Patton in all the time that I can remember, I’ve never seen you have the guts to key someone’s car. And now you’re saying fuck? And telling me off? That's a whole lot of character development to happen without me noticing, unless it was a time loop.”

Patton giggles, just a bit. It's still weepy but it makes Virgil feel like he can breathe for the first time. 

“Don’t worry, Pat,” Virgil says, “We’ll figure this thing out.” 

“H-how?” 

Janus sighed leaning back a little, “Well we could ask Logan.”

“Logan?” Virgil echoes, “you mean Remus’s boyfriend? You think he’s got something?”

Janus shrugs, “He is a witch.” 

“A what now?” Virgil says. “Since when was he a witch! You never told me that!” 

Janus grins sheepishly, and rubs the back of his neck, “I forgot? I love you?”

Virgil blows a raspberry at him. “Just like how I’m gonna forget to mention you when I find Mothman. But I love you, too.”

“Its a cruel love, this thing we have.” Janus says rather poetically and Virgil reaches over to shove his shoulder. Janus laughs sways so he falls onto Patton’s shoulder. Patton for his part smiles, bright and blinding and it takes both their breaths away when he laughs again.

Virgil can’t imagine having to redo the same day twice, much less three hundred times. He wonders vaguely if Patton has any idea how strong he is, how amazing, how inspiring he is to keep that glow inside himself despite everything.

He’s smile fades for a moment and he perks up all of a sudden. “Oh My Gosh! Logan’s a witch!” He makes a flurry of arm movements that forces Virgil to duck, “Oh my gosh that means--!!”

“Deep breaths, dear,” Janus suggests, although it goes ignored.

“Yesterday--like actually yesterday, your yesterday, not the last loop, Logan and Remus got into an argument over a bottle and I thought it was gatorade! Remus was trying to drink it but Logan wouldn’t let him and they ended up spilling it on the floor! I helped them keep it up but I got a little bit on my hand! I didn’t think too much of it but what if it was like some sort of potion?”

Janus considers it, “Hmmm, its a good starting place. Let’s go ask him what it was.” He stands up and offers a hand down to Patton and Virgil each. Virgil takes it and turns back to also offer his own hand to the smaller boy. 

“Come on, Hart, this is going to be your last loop.” Janus says.

Patton stares at their hands almost as if he was afraid to take them. He glances down at the origami frogs, at the keys, and their bags, then back up at them with an fearful expression. “You...you promise?”

Virgil laughs, “Yeah, we got you, Pat. Promise.”

Patton shakes from head to toe, but he grabs both their hands and smiles like he has hope for the first time in three hundred twelve days.

[neverhaveieverheardkazbrekkersay]

Gloom and Glare - Chapter 1.1

𝔬𝔫𝔢

Kaz

Kaz Brekker needed his reasons. Sentences to substantiate his actions. Something to tell others when they asked. He always needed reasons. And he always had them. Though they were not essentially good ones at most. And they always were not truly his.

Most commonly dripping from his mouth were the words “Money is good”. It is what had him do most things. Money is good. Greed is your god. But this was the reason all people from the Barrel gave. He had picked it up on purpose. To fit in, to not attract unwelcome attention.

Second were the reasons his clients gave him. To get revenge, help a poor man, make investments. Replicating their words was more of a lie than a reason of his. But he did not care. It kept him out of unwanted trouble. Away from people who asked too many questions.

Third were the Dregs. The gang he had joined when he was just fourteen. New to these corners of Ketterdam. They kept him afloat in his first year. Then he turned the wheel around. Bringing them up to where they were now, and he kept them at their size and importance. Impossible to substitute.

The jobs he gathered found their way to him through them. No one would know the name Kaz Brekker this well if it was not for the Dregs. Not by now. It was sure he would have built his reputation without them the same. It would have taken longer. But Dirtyhands would have risen as he always did. Destined for a higher place.

In between all these, there was one thing that the reason for was not a fabricated one, chosen carefully, to please and reassure. The one was truly his and he was glad he never had to give it. No one ever asked. They did not know. But even if they did, they would be too scared. No messing with the Bastard of the Barrel.

The sound of his cane on cobblestone had been bouncing off the wet walls. Fifth harbour was always damp. The sea leaving stains on all the walls it could reach. It belonged to them, the Dregs. He had gotten it for them. It had not been the most impressive thing he had pulled from his pocket. He had tricks more dangerous and helpful than the ones he had used for the job. Still. They were proud and it made them ruthless. Ruthless enough to pat him proudly on the shoulder. Wincing under his gaze like scared dogs when he had looked at them. Leaving him be, not daring to close in on him again.

By now Kaz had gotten used to pats on his shoulders. He was too successful to always escape them. So, he had let them touch him as they pleaded as long as there was cloth between skin, and they did not mishandle their privilege. He had been closed to chopping off fingers before. The crow head of his cane had broken enough hands.

He had heard the soldiers who dared to come to the Barrel brawl. They were drunk, like always. It was a mystery how they had managed to get into the first army. How why they had been selected to be the ones coming to Kerch. And how they had gotten through the fold alive. They had crossed just a few days ago. A supply-run. The only one out of ten in the last month that had made it. And the only one carrying Ravkan ambassadors.

Now, these soldiers were getting drunk. Gambled in the clubs. Behaved like pirates more than soldiers. If they would have been Kaz’s men, he would have gotten them to sober up. He would have hung them upside down over a canal until they were clean. The more they drank the longer they would hang.

When they came to him that day. In the middle of the night, he had wished them to be drunk. Just as he had wished to be quicker. Fifth harbour had been the last place he had suspected to get attacked. His thoughts had been trailing off. To Inej, a small Suli girl he had started working with over the last few weeks. He called her wraith; the Dregs called her his wraith. She was like a tiny invisible spider, catching secrets in her web. Disappearing in shadows as though she was part of them. The darkness seemingly following her. She wore it like a cloak. It suited her.

It had been useful to him. To get secrets out of people unexpected. To have someone in his back pocket who was ready to defend him at all times. No one saw her. No one saw her coming. Just like he did not see them coming. He had wished for Inej to be there. To escape the shadows to help him. Lend him a hand. He had wished them to be drunk. He had wished to be quicker.

Now he is trapped. Hands tied behind his back. His legs strapped to a chair. His bad one hurting more than on average days. Kaz thinks he might have slammed it against something when he had tried to escape one of the soldier's grip. He hoped it to have been one of the other soldiers but judging by the pain it had more likely been a wall.

He was inside a tent. Outside were voices. Footsteps of people passing. Occasionally the smell of unwashed bodies and a cigarette or two reached Kaz’s nose. From far away there was the sound of waves crashing against stone and wood. He was at the temporary Ravkan military-like camp just outside Ketterdam they had persisted to build. Next to the coast facing their eastern one. And closer to Ravka and the fold than he favours to be.

He despised the fold. The big wall of darkness splitting Ravka into two. It had been there all his life and he begged for it to be gone. The creatures inside disgusted him and there was no way of getting around or through safely. He had done his best to avoid it, but it did not change what had him hate it. Even if it were gone, he would still see himself as from the other side. What he most despised about himself and anything else. Nothing coming from the other side was effective in his eyes. It was weak.

A man in a red kefta sat in front of him. The surface of a simple table, covered by paper and quills, the only thing between them. If Kaz freed himself, he would easily be able to spring across and tackle him. The heartrender would not have time to act his magic. He would be too surprised to be attacked by a cripple who had been bound to a chair just seconds before. Kaz could overpower and beat him within seconds.

The silver head of his crow cane was peaking over the table, leaning against it on the heartrender’s side. If Kaz worked flawlessly, like he always did, he could get to it and kill the heartrender. The feeling of a scull smashing at the contact with his walking stick would make Brekker smile. It would always be one of the best feelings at last.

“Oh, look who’s awake,” the heartrender noted monotonously. His eyes lifted from the paper in front of him and locked with Kaz’s. He was not scared. Not like most people were when facing Dirtyhands himself. But of course, he was not. You are a cripple tied to a chair, Kaz reminded himself.

The heartrender’s eyes bored into his. Reddish hair falling into his forehead. This one looked drunk even now but Kaz was sure he was sober. He had been writing when Kaz woke and Kaz did not think someone would write with a head full of alcohol. But the white in the heartrender’s eyes was dipped red and he slurred his words. The second might be caused by his thick ravkan accent as well.

Kaz had not heard many people speaking with an accent like this. The Grisha coming to Kerch tried their best to not show theirs. It would give them away too easily. Luckily Kaz had never had this problem. If anything, he would be having a Kerch accent when trying to speak Ravkan.

The heartrender did not speak again. His blue eyes kept on Kaz, something raging behind them. The paper in front of him stayed abandoned and the feather in his hand hung limp.

After some time Kaz had enough of silence. “What business?” Reciting the familiar words, he had said to many people in his life, he leaned forward as far as he could. He wished to seem natural, he did not want the heartrender to suspect him to be feeling the ties around his wrists and ankles. Looking for their weak spots. Ready to get free at any given moment.

“Who are you,” the heartrender rejected. Kaz knew he was avoiding telling him what this was all about. Kaz guessed to know what it was, but there was no way that they knew.

“None of your business,” Kaz replied. Rocks scrapping together with every syllable. Harsh and uncomforting. Kaz liked his voice.

The heartrender lowered his eyes. “Kaz Rietveld.” Kaz groaned when he heard his old name. “Known as Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, Bastard of the Barrel. Seventeen years old. Born in East Ravka, fled to Kerch at a young age. Part of a gang called the Dregs with his own little crew of special people. Got the gang from the reputation of just a few thieves up to one of the better-known ones. Competing in the streets of Ketterdam with other gangs.”

Slowly, every of the heartrender’s spoken word got Kaz more uncomfortable. He shifted in the chair, still trying to untie himself. With time he was thinking he might not manage it in time. Those knots were good.

“You claimed fifth harbour, created the crow club and did much more for these Dregs.” The blue eyes fixated on Kaz again. “All in three years.”

“I’m a good businessman.”

“You’re a thief and a cheater, not a businessman.” Kaz scoffed, leaning back to get another perspective on the room and his binds. He had heard these words before. They did not bother him anymore. He knew what he was and nothing of what they said was right. They called him so many names but none of them get close to what hid behind his furrowed brows and cold eyes.

Again, Kaz leaned forward. The heartrender mirrored him. Resting his elbows on the table, loosely folding his hands. “If I am just a thief, a cheater, a barrel thug, one of the worst. Then what do you want from me?” With every moment facing the Grisha, Kaz got more suspicious. What if they did know what he thought no one knew.

It was one other thing he hated about himself. It belonged to Ravka and reminded him, always, that he did too. If he could, he would have cut this part out of himself. No matter the bleeding, the pain. He hated it more than he feared the consequences.

“We’ve been tracking your every step, Mister Rietveld.”

Kaz growled. “Brekker.”

“Mister Brekker.”

The heartrender grabbed the quill and scribbled something onto the paper. Kaz watched him, fiddling with the ropes around his wrists.

“We’ve had suspicions for you to be someone we’re looking for,” the heartrender continued. “We aren’t sure if you really are this.” The heartrender’s unbothered gaze caught Kaz’s. “I personally think this is a waste of time. But the Darkling has an eye out for you. She wants to test you, to be sure.” He got up. His sleek long fingers gathered the few things on the table.

Now was the time. Now Kaz should escape. He could, the ropes on his wrists were loose, the ones on his legs would not make much of a problem. He could grab the heartrender’s collar, slam his head into the table until he was unconscious, or better, dead. This was the perfect moment to escape. And yet he did not.

He watched the red-headed heartrender slide the papers and quill into a slender bag. When his hand hovered over Kaz’s cane he froze. Kaz guessed him to be considering if he should take it but then he felt her too.

From the entrance of the tent black spread across the cloth. With a smooth motion, the heartrender grabbed the bag and stepped away. To the side of the tent. His head lowered. Not in fear, Kaz realized. But in respect.

All the people he had heard talk about the Darkling feared her. Why didn’t he? The others had not even met her, he had. Why wasn’t the heartrender scared of someone as powerful as her?

In the black entrance, a silhouette appeared. Dark robes, seeming to float around a surprisingly small figure. The Darkling.

Kaz knew her by many names. The black Heretic, General Ghafa, shadow summoner, witch. But he had never seen her. Not many had. Not outside the second army. She was like the shadows she controlled. Everyone knew she was there, they feared her, speculated about her real face whenever they thought she was not there. But only few knew this real face.

He would see her now. She was standing there.

The darkness pulled into her. It formed the sharp silhouette of the girl, still leaving her in shadow. Then out of the shadow stepped, Inej.

Tagging: @man-cardoor-honk-sand (If you want to join the tag list just tell me) 

[ourneverendingpossibilities]

I’m Sorry (9/?)

Anime: Kuroko no Basuke Pairing: Aomine Daiki x reader Rating: K+ A/N: FINALLY!! After soo long, here’s ANOTHER chapter!! AHH. I hate to say it, but this story is coming to an end... I think there’ll be a few more chapters? Can’t guarantee.. But I’m grateful everyone has been patient with me!! You can also find it on my AO3!! Enjoy! ___________________________

The day you met Aomine Daiki, was on a clear blue sky.

You were practicing dribbling on a nearby court, moving the ball between your legs in a quick motion. It was one of your weaker moves, but you were at least good at shooting. It wouldn't be enough to win the next game though.. You frown, halting your movements and stare up at the hoop, as if studying it. How many times have you faced up against opponents taller than you? Surely there has to be a way to outsmart them and be able to reach the hoop?

The ball began hitting the cement once more, and you narrowed your eyes, making fake movements before spinning on your feet. Taking a jump back, you shot the ball into the hoop, watching as it effortlessly sinks in.. Wiping the sweat from your eyebrow, you sigh, staring at the ground... Is there a way to get better? How can you be the assistant captain if you can't lead your team with the captain?

"OI! Move off the court! It's not meant for girls!"

The voice cut you out of your reverie, and you glare, turning your attention to the group of boys... Great... You're going to be harassed once again from playing a 'boys' sport. You made your way to your ball, only to stumble when one of them grabs it, spinning it on his finger as he sneers at you.

"You think a girl can play against a group of boys and win?" he laughs, not bothering to look at you. It was clear to you he was the leader... His arrogance was evident.

"Girls can play any sport boys can!" you glower, eyes narrowing. "Besides, this is a PUBLIC court... Anyone can play on it!"

He sneers, stopping the spinning of the ball. He looks at it, casting a glance at you. He then starts to tease you with the ball, watching as you jump up and down, trying to reach it... Curse your height!

"How can you play when you're not even tall enough to reach the hoop??" He laughs, and then proceeds to throw your ball off the court... You gasp, turning to chase it, only to trip on his foot, and you almost hit the pavement. Hard...

Instead, you wind up in someone's arms..

"OI! Pick on someone your own size!"

You blink, gasping lightly as you inhale the young boy's scent, finding yourself blushing... He smells good... You look up at him, mouth parting as his beautiful navy blue hues meet yours, and you're suddenly tongue-tied... H...He's so....

Cute.

"Tch... Whatcha gonna do about it, shorty?" the older male sneers, not liking his bullying was being interrupted...

Aomine's snaps out of his fascination of you, turning to look at them, glaring. He puts you behind him, grabbing the ball from the other teen and laughs, spinning the ball on his finger...

"I'm gonna fight you! Four on one! If you can beat me, I'll leave with her and we won't be on the court again!" He replies smugly, bouncing the ball on the ground... "But... If I win..." He then charges at them, bouncing the ball between their legs, and throws the ball into the hoop with one hand.

"... You'll apologize to her and never step foot on this court again."

xxx

You watch the game, mesmerized by the young boy's plays... He was laughing, grinning with mischief as he made each shot, dodging each of their moves effortlessly... It was hard to believe he was your age.... He plays like a natural.. As if he breathes basketball...

At the end of the match, you're unable to tear your eyes away, feeling slightly flustered at the scene before you... No words could begin to describe what took place, and you feel rooted to the ground... Everything about this... Is surreal, and she finds herself feeling just a little envious... Not because of his skill persay... But because he looks like he's enjoying himself... And she finds herself wishing, he never stops smiling.

The thought makes her blush deeply, and she crouches down, burying her face in her knees.

"Oi! You okay?"

His voice brings her out of her turmoil, and she looks up at him, his gaze curious and a slight hint of worry. You immediately stand up, nodding your head as you dust off your shorts.

"A...Ahh!! I'... I'm okay!!" She looks around, noticing the males are gone... "W...What happened?"

He clicks his tongue, a soft frown on his lips, "I kicked their butts.." He replies, tossing the gross ball away. He didn't want to touch anything belonging to them.. He then runs towards the edge of the court, grabbing your long forgotten ball. He brings it back to you, holding it out towards you.

"Here!"

As if shocked, you take the ball from his hands, gasping at the small twinge of electricity... You hear it from his lips too, before looking up at him , swallowing the lump in your throat..

"T....Thank you..." you whisper, a tiny smile on your lips. He rubs the back of his head, unable to meet your eyes, a small blush dusting his cheeks...

"Those guys had it coming...:" he whispers, "Anyone can play basketball... and I was tired of them picking on you..."

You find yourself staring up at him, a tiny giggle leaving your lips.

"Y...You're a really good player... er..."

"D...Daiki..."

Your eyes widen at his stutter, but he says his name with clear conviction, and you're once again, amazed at his stature... And you feel... safe with him... Something you've only experienced with your father... Speaking of...

"AH! It's getting late!! I have to get back home!" you gasp, bowing at him. You meet his gaze, grinning at him brightly,

"Thank you Daiki!! I appreciate what you did for me!"

You then begin running off the court, only to stop at his voice.

"Oi!! I didn't catch your name!!"

You whirl around, eyes wide at his words, and you smile bigger, waving a hand.

"It's _______!"

You almost trip in your haste, but you had to get home! Otherwise your dad would start to worry... and he wouldn't let you out to play on the courts again! As you ran away, Aomine couldn't take his eyes off your form.. You were cute, and he had caught you training a little... He could tell you were a good player, and he hopes to see you again on these courts...

"Be safe, _____-chan...." he whispers, before he makes his trek back home.

_____________________________

~ Two years later ~

It'd been a couple years since you ran into Daiki on the street court... And you couldn't stop thinking about him... His enthusiasm for the sport your father played somehow renewed your interest, allowing you to bond with your father... It'd been rocky since you were forced to live with your mother, and during that time, you couldn't return to the courts, unable to meet with Daiki again... You wanted to play with him, get to know him as a person... Everything about him, it screamed at you.. Somehow you found yourself going to Teiko... Per your mother's request.

And that's where you now stood, in front of the gates, staring up at them with wide eyes... A prestigious school... The aura around it was powerful, and you found yourself sweating.. You were feeling anxious, having everyone's attention on you... Since you'd grown up, some of your assets... had well... stood out...

"Hey.. She's cute!! We should go talk to her!"

"I'm going to make her my girlfriend!"

"Let's get her to join our club!"

You started to feel your palms clam up, and you swallow the lump in your throat. All you want is to make it to homeroom, and relax. The first day is always the hardest, and you didn't want to fall behind... It was when you were heading inside you saw a flash of navy blue hair.. And it made you pause... You watch, eyes wide as the boy you met a couple years ago walks by, accompanied by a beautiful pinkette, and they seem very close... You wanted to shout his name, to confirm it was truly him, but something held you back.. Before you got caught, you ran up the stairs towards your class, unaware of those hues looking in your direction.

xxx

"You're _____-chan, right?"

You were in the middle of eating when the VERY same girl who you saw with Daiki earlier appears.. A huge grin on her face. You place your food down, tilting your head to the side..

"H...How do you..."

"It's my duty to know everyone ! I also heard of your basketball abilities!!" she grins, unaware of your inner turmoil... If this was Daiki's girlfriend... Why was she here in front of you?

"I want you to join the basketball team as an assistant manager!"

Her words bring you out of your reverie, and you look at her, stunned...

"...Eh?"

"I don't think Dai-chan has realized you're here.. But from your description, I'd say you're the same girl he met on the court a couple years ago!" she coos, sitting beside you. Her eyes were wide, but the sparkling effects were there, and you felt a twinge of guilt for the bluenette.

"He couldn't stop talking about you _____-chan! He was excited to meet someone who liked playing basketball like him! Though he was upset you didn't show up again after that."

'H...He talked about me?' you thought, eyes wide and a slight blush on your cheeks... Why was your heart, beating fast, as if you were running on the track? What kind of face would he make, when he sees you again? Suddenly, your stomach began to churn in knots, and you bite your bottom lip.

"W...What's your-"

"Oh! I'm Momoi Satsuki!! I'm Dai-chan's childhood friend!" She explains, understanding your confusion.. You let out a soft sigh.

"I.. I thought you were..."

"Dating??" She scoffs, making a face, "No way!! Dai-chan is more like a brother to me!" She pouts, before shaking her head, holding out a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, _____-chan!! I hope you'll help me manage the basketball team!"

You look at her, before your gaze goes to her hand, with a smile. Gently taking it in yours, you can feel the smile meeting your eyes, and nod. "I look forward to helping the basketball team!"

Little did you know, a certain someone was on the other line, tucked inside Momoi's pocket.

____________________

End of day came by in a flash, and suddenly you were dreading going to the gym... You wanted to, but the prospect of Aomine NOT remembering you lingers in your head. From Momoi's words, he DOES remember you, has even talked about you non-stop... Despite the one meeting... And yet, why wouldn't your heart stop fluttering?? Was meeting you that exciting for the bluenette?

"______-chan!!!"

Startled from your thoughts, you look up, watching as Momoi runs to you, grabbing your hand happily. She drags you towards three people... An older man, who you assumed was the coach... A guy you recognized as the team's captain, and senpai, Nijimura Shuuzo, and finally.. The red-head who was vice captain, and one of the smartest boys in Teiko..

Akashi Seijuro...

"This is who I was talking about!! This is _____-chan!!" She looks at you, gesturing to the three males, "This is the coach, Sanada-san... The captain, Nijimura-senpai, and vice captain, Akashi-kun!"

You take in each of their expressions, but the one sending chills down your spine the most, was the red-head. Despite him being your age, his demeanor spoke volumes, and you swallow thickly, bowing in front of them.

"I... I'm ______! I...It's a pleasure to meet you!"

You knew it was slightly rude not to say your last name, but you never wanted to be addressed so formally... Even in class, you'd rather be addressed by your first name. Most people respected that, and never questioned it.. And thankfully, the others nodded at you, accepting your introduction before talking to each other about the regimes... You look at Momoi, prepared to ask her what your duties were, when a very familiar voice echoed through the gym, causing you to gasp..

"_-_-_______?"

Turning your head around, you notice Momoi's smile, but find your eyes widening at the boy you met a couple years ago... He's much, MUCH, taller now than he was back then... And suddenly, you never felt so... small.

You give him a smile, lifting a hand in a hesitant wave, "H....Hi there..... Daiki-kun..."

When you greet him, you watch as his face lights up, and those beautiful blue hues sparkle until your skin was burning... And you longed to keep that smile on his face... It was as if the two of you were in your own worlds, only attention was on each other, and nothing else matters... You were brought out of your thoughts when he ran at you, wrapping his arms around your shoulder as he gives you a noogie..

"Be prepared!! I've gotten stronger! And I want to face off against you one day!"

You tilt your head in confusion, trying your hardest not to sound like an idiot... Because your entire being was screaming to touch him.. To hold him... And just like that day, when he had beaten those boys for you, Aomine was the sun, and if you got too close, you'd surely be burned.

__________________________

You let out a soft whimper, though it immediately vanishes when a tiny pressure rests against your forehead. You don't want to open your eyes, in fear he's going to leave.. He's not physically here... He's only here in your dreams... And you want to keep him here... You want his heat, his scent, his warmth... Everything Aomine Daiki is... You want to hold it in the palm of your hand... And yet, it's time to stop living in the past, and move on...

You slowly open your eyes, releasing a slow breath, and when you feel the swing shift, you realize one thing...

Aomine is resting underneath you...

When you fell asleep, you landed on his chest, and the whole time you were napping, he remained in place, keeping you close... As if protecting you from the cool breeze.. His heart continues to beat under your ear, and you were scared to move, in case he got angry, or he would place you down, leaving you alone...

Instead, his arms tighten their grip, and you snuggle closer to his chest.

"Miss me that much, _____?"

His voice is teasing, hot against your ear, and you feel your cheeks burn in embarrassment... C...Curse him!! Your heart continues to beat in your chest, and you knew... You couldn't get over him... Not even if you moved to a different continent....

Your heart would always be Aomine's...

Slowly getting up, you cast him a glare, half straddling his hips as you look down at him, pouting...

"I could say the same about you... Aomine-kun.." you murmur, not missing the frown at addressing him by his last name. You grab onto his sweater, and move to get off him, when he tugs you back into his chest, growling darkly.

"I...It's getting late!!"

"Don't care..." he mumbles, gently nipping your ear, "I'll stay the whole night if I have to..." he lets the words linger, and it makes your heart race... Letting out a soft gasp, you ignore the heat on your cheeks as you meet his blue hues...

Licking your lips, again ignoring the burning stare on your mouth, you whisper, "....Why?"

He clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes before leaning in, closer than before. His breath tickles your mouth, and you so badly want to close the gap... To just drown in him again and again.

"Use your head, _____... I know you're not stupid."

And when you open your mouth to retort, he swoops in, and silences your protest with his own, forever sending your heart into a frenzy.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter nine: yellow tulip

“I can’t believe that,” Zelda groaned.

It was ten minutes before Legacy was about to take to the stage, and Zelda had to take a seat behind their set to better take in the news. Sam, Marla, and Aurora had been there all day in anticipation of her and also Metallica's arrival in the audience. There was already a small crowd that congregated out there, but they needed a moment alone, away from the noise. She rubbed her temples with the pads of her fingers and closed her eyes. Her black hair blanketed the side of her face so Sam and Aurora couldn’t see into her eyes.

“I can’t—fucking—believe that,” she muttered in a broken voice.

“It’s okay—he’s gonna be in good hands with Exodus,” Aurora promised her; after Marla had said about them, Sam knew her words only came to soothe the feeling.

“Yeah, I mean—” Sam hesitated in search of the right words. “—it's like he's dead, too, Zelda. He's just gonna be in another room. Maybe he'll be right next door to them.”

“It's not gonna be the same, though,” Zelda insisted as she raised her head. “It's just—not gonna be the same without him.” She shook her head and rested her sinewy elbows upon her slender knees. Sam rested a hand on her shoulder: even though her black hair spread across part of her face, she could see the disappointment in Zelda's eyes.

“We'll have to enjoy every last minute, then,” she remarked.

“It's the only way, you know,” Sam pointed out.

“It really is,” Aurora chimed in.

“Every last minute of Zetro's singing,” Zelda said in a soft voice, “every last note—every last part of it. Just right there. Just right within my ears.”

Without another word, she climbed to her feet so she could look at both Sam and Aurora in the eye. She tucked a lock of jet black hair behind her ear: those eyes were dry and yet Sam could see it within her. She also noticed a little orange ear plug tucked snugly right in her ear.

“Let's go see them,” Zelda declared, “you ladies have protection?”

Aurora reached into her shorts pocket and took out a handful of those same orange ear plugs, and Sam took two for herself. Once they were closed off from the loud noises of the world, Zelda led the way to that one part of the floor, right front of the stage. Louie had already taken his seat behind the drum kit, and his jet black hair shone under the soft golden light of the overhead lights. He held his drum sticks down behind his snare drum, out of sight. He flashed Zelda a thumbs up and she nodded at him in return. Sam huddled closer to her so she could see his youthful little face in between his yellow hi-hat and the raggedy toms.

Greg emerged from the left side of the stage with his bass already slung over his shoulder: he almost somersaulted into his spot in front of the three girls, and it made Aurora burst out laughing at him.

“Do that again and we'll vote on it,” Zelda called out to him, and Louie burst out laughing. Eric surfaced from the left side, followed by Zetro and then Alex. Zetro made his way to the microphone in the middle of the floor: he glanced about the floor before him with a twinkle in his eye. Sam then felt a tap on her shoulder: she turned her head only to be met with Marla waving at her.

“Oh, hey!” Sam greeted her.

“Nice little crowd we got here,” he remarked: his voice echoed throughout the tiny club. “Better than it has been lately, too.” Sam brought her gaze over to Alex, who had picked up a little black guitar and adjusted the strap so it was closer to his chest.

“Anyways, we are Legacy,” Zetro continued, “buncha California dudes who walked right out of a Bela Lugosi movie opening for our pals Anthrax here in their home turf. This song is called 'Over the Wall'.” Sam could hear it in his voice: he was ready to make his exodus.

Eric took one step forward and let his fingers do the talking. Alex joined in like clockwork; Greg's bass thundered through the floor and all through Sam's bones. His bass tone was big and heavy that it made her bones rattle, as if he tickled her. Louie put his head down such that his black hair sailed behind his head like the tentacles of an octopus. Zetro held onto the microphone stand and pinched his eyes shut.

The three of them were met with a wall of sound, such that Aurora huddled closer to Sam and Zelda. It wasn't as big as it could be but Sam knew they could play in a much larger venue from that point on out. Marla stepped her way through the little bit of crowd towards her left side. Within time, she leaned in closer to her, and Sam realized she was looking at something.

“His guitar is too big for this room.” Even with the ear plugs in, Sam could still hear Marla say that, and she brought her face closer to follow her gaze. She lowered her eyes onto Alex and then she took a glimpse over at Marla, who watched him with stars in her eyes and her expression in awe of him. Sam kept her gaze fixated on his long slender fingers on the frets. He moved about the strings so slowly and yet the sound he made with them was indeed so big and vast. It was as if he painted on canvas with the very sound of the guitar.

From there, she knew this young boy was an artist.

He raised his head and flipped his little fine black curls back away from his face, and the tiny gray sliver shone bright under the lights: a little pearl the size of a nickel up against the helmet of black about his head. He bowed his head again in time for his solo.

“He's just too big for the room,” Sam followed up, which in turn brought a laugh out of Marla. She watched him in awe as his fingers switched about the nylon strings like little baby eels. He played as though he was about to make a king cobra rise up through the floor boards next to him. He never moved from his stance there on the floor but he did kick his hair back with a flick of his head. He let his tongue slither out from between his lips, much like a snake.

Zetro stepped forward and belted into the microphone yet again.

Marla turned her head to Sam to show her the twinkle in her eyes.

“He's going to go far playing like that,” Marla remarked, and she sounded a mile away. “Sixteen year old baby and it looks and sounds like he's been playing for twice that long!”

“Kinda makes you want to see more from him, doesn't it?” Sam asked her over Zetro's shrieking, to which Marla nodded at her. Zelda reached her hands out to him as if about to touch him. Louie hit the big cymbals and Zetro leaned forward to give her a high five.

The next one was “Alone in the Dark”, and a song whereby Alex bowed his head and led the way. He moved forward just like Eric in the previous one and he stood right next to Zetro.

Aurora turned her head to Sam and Marla.

“I like this one,” she declared over the wall of sound.

“I do, too,” Sam replied right in her ear. “Even though it's still real hard and fast, there's something weirdly innocent about this song.”

“It's like a fantasy novel,” Marla added. Zelda nodded her head along with Louie's steady drumming: every so often, he glanced over at her and nodded along with her. Greg stood at the edge of the stage with his head bowed so he gazed down at the four girls. A pocket of Alex's dark hair cast a shadow over his head and shoulders so they could hardly see his face or the little sliver at his forehead. He had turned away from the crowd by the time he let out his solo. He stood there, with his legs spread apart and his head bowed, like a little wizard who created something for the audience to drink up, to help open their minds.

Legacy played one more song before Zetro blew a kiss to the crowd and Zelda reached out to him yet again, that time to take his hand. He mouthed something to her but Sam couldn't hear him over the orange pieces nestled in her ears.

Alex disappeared into the shadows before anyone could grab his attention, and Louie and Greg hustled after him. Eric was the only one who lingered behind with his guitar leaned against the speaker for a ribbon of distorted feedback.

“So dark and violent!” Aurora joked, and the feedback abruptly stopped, which allowed the noise of the crowd to flow over them.

Within a few minutes, Charlie emerged from the shadows and took a seat behind the drum kit. Frank followed with his big black bass over his shoulder, and then Dan with his shirt on his head and a white flying V over his little bare body. Scott and Joey rounded them out, the latter of whom waved at the four girls down below with both hands and a big goofy smile plastered on his face. Sam noticed a wide silvery metal bracelet on his right wrist.

“We're home, New York!” Scott proclaimed through the microphone, and he hustled over to the right side of the stage for his guitar.

“The boys are back in town!” Joey shouted into the microphone head. “The boys are back in the fucking town!” Sam gazed on at Joey's slender body as he held onto the stand with his left hand and the microphone itself with his right. It was then she had an idea. She turned to Aurora and gestured at her purse.

“Do you have your camera?” she asked her, to which Aurora shook her head.

“Not on me, no,” she replied in a muffled voice.

“Ah, damn it—” Sam was cut off by Scott's grinding guitar in front of them. She recognized that riff. It was the song they played for her the first time! She clapped her hands and almost jumped for joy right then. Charlie's drums pounded so hard that it knocked the wind out of her. Frank's bass rumbled like an earthquake. Dan's guitar screeched into the room, the same vastness and power as Alex's guitar.

And then there was Joey. His high operatic voice filled up the place, such that Sam found herself breathless by that addictive chorus: “it's a madhouse!” She tried to sing along but her voice vanished into the wall of sound before them. She could feel the crowd behind them moving and pulsating about.

“We're at the very edge of the mosh pit!” Zelda shouted. “Holy shit—ow!” Someone's sandaled foot beaned her right in the back of the head.

“Oh, damn, you alright?” Aurora yelled back to her; Sam couldn't hear her, and thus she returned to Joey. His black curls streamed behind his head even though there was no breeze in there. He was like a dark prince, a man of shadow straight out of the cavernous woods of upstate New York. If Alex was the sorceror, Joey was the man in the castle.

The curls atop his head even resembled to that of a crown.

Scott stomped about in his big black Doc Marten boots, and his thick black hair covered his face so Sam couldn't see his thick eyebrows. Meanwhile, Dan stood off to the left with his face serene and the little light tufts of hair standing on end like a crown itself. Every so often, Frank flicked his head back so his hair sailed up and then landed back down on his shoulders. He pointed at Marla, who cheered back at him and he showed her a big grin.

Legacy were fierce, dark, and poetic, but Anthrax were bright and colorful despite their own darkness as well. And much like the set before them, they only played three songs, the last of which Joey leaned back and brought the microphone to his lips and let out the longest, highest note Sam had ever heard from him. He did it a few times, the last of which was so high that she could see his stomach muscles tightening up under his shirt and a wave of chills swept over her. Aurora and Marla gaped at each other and Zelda shouted “oh my fucking god!” at the top of her lungs.

He was like an opera singer: this little dark skinned Indian boy with a voice straight out of the Italian opera. He held the microphone stand away from his body so he stood there with his arms spread out in a crucifix shape. The wall of sound around them was utterly deafening, and Sam was a part of it all.

The noise. The feeling. The standing right there at the edge of the mosh pit with her girl friends. There was nothing like it.

The four girls bustled past the railing and made their way after the five of them into the backstage area, away from the crowd and away from the energy behind them. Frank clapped his hands and Dan gave his hair a toss back.

Sam took the plug out of her right ear and brought a hand to it given the sharp sound around her.

“Oh, jesus,” she muttered.

“You alright?” Dan asked her.

“More than alright,” she replied, and she looked into his sparkling eyes. She realized she never really spoke much to Dan.

“Good show, and I'm glad you girls could make it, too!” Frank declared.

“There was no way we could miss this,” said Marla as she took out her ear plugs.

It was right then Sam realized something was missing.

“Wait a minute, Cliff never showed,” she said in a broken voice.

“Yeah, he did,” Frank told her. “Louie said he and James were both near the back. I saw him, too. By the looks of it, it looked like he was lookin' for you, too. He was dressed real nice.”

“Aw!” Sam's heart skipped several beats right then.

“Better go catch him, Sam,” Frank continued as he ran his fingers through his lush hair, “he looked a little disappointed.” He broke a little bit of a smile at her when he said that. And without another word, Sam doubled back to side of the stage.

“We'll be back here!” Marla called after her. She rounded the corner to find most of the crowd had dissipated back outside, and Cliff's wide brimmed hat was nowhere to be found. Sam stepped outside in search for him. Night had fallen over Brooklyn, but the street lights cast that orange light that she knew what to look for through the darkness.

Nowhere to be seen. She fetched up a sigh and she walked past a man with a blunt full of marijuana and a girl across from him, right there on the sidewalk. She peered around the corner to the dark alleyway. No one there.

She doubled back through the cloud of pot smoke and peered around the corner that time. Still no one there. Sam stood there on the sidewlk with her hands pressed to her hips.

Maybe he was all the way around the other side. Indeed, she returned back inside of the club, across the empty floor in search of him. She pushed open those doors, only to be met with more orange light and nobody on the sidewalk.

“God damn it,” she groaned. “Shit...” She doubled back into the club and returned to the little nook of a backstage area. Zelda, Aurora, and Marla all had taken their seats on a lumpy couch pressed against the wall and Dan and Frank were helping themselves to cups of water.

“D'you find him?” Marla asked her, to which she shook her head.

“Oh, man!” Frank declared. “I'm sorry, Sam.”

“Nah, it's alright,” Sam told him, “I was just so caught up in the moment that I forgot he told me he was gonna be here.” She peered about the nook. “Where's Joey, Scott, and Charlie?”

“In the next room,” Dan replied as he handed her a little cup of water. “Joe's dunkin' his head in ice water, and Scott and Charlie are getting things to eat.”

“The dudes from Legacy just bounced, too,” Frank added. “Just got in their van and boogied—so you just missed them, Zelda. Something about getting to Jon and Marsha's house before they turn it in for the night, and Louie getting back to the building before the doors lock, or some shit, I forget.”

“Zetro told me to meet up with him tomorrow,” Zelda replied as she ran her hand over the back of her head, “at least that's what I think he said to me.” She groaned and grimaced at the feeling. “I got kicked in the head.”

“Yeah, I saw that!” Dan told her; Sam took her seat on the arm of the couch next to Marla.

“I'm a drummer, though,” Zelda insisted. “I can take a lot before it really gets to me.”

“A drummer paying Louie Clemente's rent,” Frank joked, and the bunch of them laughed. Right then, Joey stumbled into the room, with his black curls soaked wet and his dark lips twisted into a tight grin.

“Hey, there are my girls!” he said in a loud voice.

“Joey, I had no idea you sang like that,” Sam declared.

“You should hear him in a bigger place,” Frank told her. “He just sings to the heavens.”

Joey made his way over to the couch and took a seat right next the arm: he sat right in front of Sam with his slender legs crossed. His black curls glistened from the ice cold water in the next room, and a single droplet trickled down the side of his face. She could already smell the hops from the beer on his breath.

“I'm so glad we could get here,” he said to her with a few little breaks in his voice.

“Get here in a new car no less,” she pointed out.

“I'm gonna need you to drive, too,” he stated with a flat look on his face.

“Not a problem,” she answered with a shake of her head and a shrug of the shoulders. “I can totally do that.”

“As long as you don't barf,” Zelda pointed out.

“I'd be more worried about Scott and Billy barfin' while in the car,” Dan told her before he took a sip of water. “Joe just has kind of—sort of—a little bit of a hard time holding down his liquor.”

Sam thought about the few times she had seen Joey drink and let it overcome him. She wondered how much he had took in just then, and she frowned at the very thought, especially after her feeling down his body and his hair. He was soft to the touch, and the booze seemed to take that away from him. She didn't want to fix him, but she wanted to find a way to get him away from that lest something happen to his little body.

Charlie called Joey, Frank, and Dan into the next room: he had pushed back his curls from his face, and thus showed off the fine beads of sweat under his eyes and along his forehead.

“Marla's man was workin' extra hard tonight,” Aurora remarked.

“Yeah, I was!” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “It was—being here, being back home in New York and at L'Amour.” He shrugged his fine shoulders. “I just had to go hard and fast tonight.”

Joey tried to stand to his feet by himself but he almost lost his balance and fell right on the seat of his skinny jeans. He giggled and extended a hand to Dan and Sam, both of whom helped him up. He raised a finger at her.

“I'll be—” he hiccuped, “—I'll be right back.”

Sam returned to her spot on the arm of the couch and she watched him stagger after Dan and Frank into the next room.

“Can't hold his liquor,” Marla recalled.

“I know,” Sam said, thoughtful, “I once told him I don't really like the idea of him drinking so much because it can do a number on him.”

“Oh, yeah.” Marla nodded her head at her.

“I'm also gonna have to call Cliff tonight, too. That just kills me.”

“In your defense, Sam, we were all in the heat of the moment,” Zelda pointed out as she ran her fingers through her black hair. “I missed Zetro by about twenty minutes.”

“And that was just because they had to go,” Aurora chimed in.

“They had to go and I'm gonna have to talk to Louie, too...”

Joey returned with a red cup in hand and a smile on his face.

“You wanna go home, don't ya?” Sam asked him.

“Go home and take a shower,” he replied as he guzzled down whatever was in the cup. He gave his black curls a toss back and kept the smile firmly plastered across his face.

“You just got your hair wet,” Aurora pointed out.

“That ain't a shower, though!” he chuckled as he took one last swig of it. Sam stood to her feet and adjusted the bottom of her shirt.

“I'll see you ladies later,” she said.

“I just might have a new hair color when you see me again,” Marla told her with a wink.

Sam and Joey returned outside, where they were greeted by not only another cloud of pot smoke but the aroma of sage burning.

“Yow-za,” he blurted out as they walked past that little circle on the sidewalk. Sam led him through the darkness back to his car, where he almost collapsed right into the front seat. She took her spot in the driver's seat and held still. The silence in the car made her ears ache a bit.

“You got the key?” she asked him.

“I do,” he replied.

“Where is it?”

“It's—it's—hang on a second...” Joey patted down his slender legs and then he reached into his back pocket. He showed her the key ring and she took it for herself.

They rolled out of the parking lot and returned to the streets: lucky for them, the crowd in the club had cleared out quickly, and thus, they only had a bit of the late night traffic to deal with.

“I'm gonna have to call Cliff when we get home, too,” she declared. “I can't believe I missed him.”

“I mean, he did kiss you,” Joey pointed out as he sank down in his seat.

“He did! And he asked me out to that show, too. I have to tell him.”

“Well, remember—we are playin' a second night tomorrow. You can catch up with 'em tomorrow night when we all meet up again for a second time.”

“That's true...” Her voice trailed off and they fell into silence as they made their way towards the freeway.

“By the way, Marla and I really like that Alex kid,” she said. “The lead guitarist in Legacy.”

“Oh, he's from another planet,” he replied with a bit of a slurring to his speech. “He and Danny both.” He hiccuped and lowered his chin to his chest. She peered over at him and his drooping eyelids.

“Just the way he stood there was so—serene. Real dark music but it was like he was beckoning something from the floor.” She peered over at him. “By the way, are you feeling alright? You don't look good.”

“Charlie called me back to the room there for sump'n and I can't remember what—I went back there to get another cup of beer 'cause there wasn't really much to eat there. And I remember us talkin' about the whole thing with the booze but...”

“It's the spur of the moment,” she finished.

“Sweat—fun—that's what it's all about for me, even if it means cuttin' loose for a bit. I gotta say that it's nights like this where I can't really help myself.”

“Joey, I don't know if it's the rush of adrenaline wearing off, but—” She stopped, and he turned his head for a look over her.

“But what?” he asked her.

“After tonight, I strangely feel—a lot closer to you,” she confessed. “I feel like I've seen another side to you. A side beyond what I've done in my art journal and what I've done for you in that alleyway.” She drummed her fingers on the edge of the steering wheel.

“And I dunno if it's the booze talkin' but—I feel closer to you, too.”

“And if I must confess...” She glanced over at him again, that time to look over his black curls, made even darker and fuller in appearance by them being wet. He took another glimpse at her.

“What's that?”

“I need to feel your hair again,” she declared.

“Why, you wanna get yourself lost in it?” he teased her.

“Not necessarily,” she replied. “I just need to feel the texture of it at the roots especially.”

She looked over at him again, at those jet black curls: every so often the lights from the city shone through the window onto them and they glistened like little embers from a fire.

“These curls are so thick and lush,” she muttered, “and coarse. And soft, all at the same time. They're everything and nothing. They're so—they're so—”

“Curly?” Joey asked her with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Curly is an understatement,” she quipped, and he chuckled at that.

Within the hour, they had returned to her building in the Bronx. Despite his word, Joey collapsed on the couch and fell asleep within mere seconds. It was late after all, and Sam knew there was no way she could call Cliff right then. Thus, she took a shower and turned in for the night herself.

Despite the rush of adrenaline and it being such a late hour, she could scarcely fall asleep. Cliff remained firm in her mind, the image of a tall man seated in a spindly chair with his bell bottoms spread wide over his pointed black leather boots and his black wide brimmed hat rested upon the crown of his head. He rested the side of his head against the backs of his knuckles and he gazed on at her. He waited for her. He was ready for her.

She couldn't stop thinking about him, even when the sun arose over the Bronx and she headed into the next room for a pot of coffee and a bite of breakfast. Joey had rolled over onto his stomach and let his right hand dangle down to the floor. She squatted down to examine that silver bracelet: just a flat, smooth rectangle of metal that hugged his wrist, but she wondered where he had gotten it from.

He awoke at ten thirty and he was eager to head back to the club for a second round.

“You sure you're up for it, Joey?” Sam asked him as they bustled back outside and towards his car parked at the curb. “You barely ate anything just now and you look really hungover.”

“I gotta,” he insisted as he slid into the passenger seat. “I woke up late—it'd be like wakin' up late for a class.” She fetched up a sigh as she put on her sunglasses and rounded the front end to the driver's door.

That time around, Alex had taken a seat outside of the side door with his guitar cradled in his lap. His sunglasses obscured his eyes from them, but his stoic expression never changed as Joey climbed out of the car.

“Hey, kiddo—” He was cut off by his own vomiting right on the sidewalk, right in front of him.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, man!” Alex scrambled to his feet and scurried away from there before Sam could get a word in. Joey spat and groaned at the feeling: he rested his hands on his knees and breathed hard. Zetro and Cliff emerged from the side door just then: the former gasped.

“Fuckin'-A, Joey, did the room clear out?” he declared.

“Get him something to eat!” Sam ordered him. “He woke up like an hour ago and he was insistent on it.”

“Yes, ma'am!” Zetro put his arm around Joey's back and guided him into the club. Meanwhile, Cliff turned to her: he wore that wide brimmed hat once again and he held a little yellow tulip in hand. Sam swallowed and she gingerly stepped onto the curb, and she stood right in front of him.

“I can't believe I missed you last night,” she confessed, to which he handed her the tulip. “And—I'm really sorry I did.” To which he shook his head.

“Don't be,” he told her in a low voice. “If anything, it was actually my fault. I called your place yesterday to say I was gonna be here late but—when I never got an answer, I just thought, 'oh, she's probably there already. I'll look for her.'”

“I tried looking for you, but—I didn't see you anywhere,” she confessed. “Frankie saw you, but by the time he told me, you were already gone.”

“Yeah, Lars was hungry,” he explained. “Again, don't be sorry. Be happy that we're here right now for a second shot.”

“And here I am,” she told him as she held the tulip close to her chest.

“And here we are,” he echoed as he leaned in for a kiss on her lips.

[milkybonya]

Soulmate!Wooseok

This is part of a Soulmate!Pentagon series that was requested by an anon: Soulmate!Hongseok / Soulmate!Kino / Soulmate!Shinwon / Soulmate!Yeo One / Soulmate!Jinho / Soulmate!Hui /Soulmate!Yanan / Soulmate!Yuto

Warnings: this is more dark/angsty ! 

Pairing: Wooseok x reader

Summary: Everyone has an hourglass necklace that looks the same as the one their soulmate has. The sand does not stop falling until the moment your soulmate is standing before you. 

Song (rec) to listen to while reading: The Black Hall by Pentagon

[a/n]: im thinking about my anon who requested Wooseok scenarios before hehe,, i hope they’re doing okay, i hope all of you who read this are doing well !! take care of yourselves, or else i’ll be sad :(

You’ve worn the necklace ever since you can remember, the cool, silver chain against your skin becoming a natural feeling. The necklace has been like an anchor when you’re in deep thought, anxious or nervous, keeping you down to earth and bringing you back to reality. It’s always satisfying to watch the tiny grains of sand trickle through the glass.

The hourglass itself is small, barely the size of your pinkie finger, so it’s not too heavy or bulky when it hangs around your neck. You’ve always adored it and considered yourself lucky for having such a pretty necklace. Since everyone’s necklace is unique and the only person with a necklace like theirs is their soulmate, some people end up with some crazy looking hourglasses around their necks.

Yours is very simple: just the glass and a deep maroon-coloured sand that falls. Nothing extra or fancy, and you love it that way.

Sometimes you scramble for the necklace when you see an attractive person in your vicinity, hoping that the sand has stopped falling, and that you’ve met your soulmate. It has never happened though.

Some people date around even though they haven’t met their soulmate yet, but you tell yourself you want to be loyal. Your friend is a bad influence, though.

“Come on, there’s nothing wrong with going to the club! Please, just come once and have a good time. I promise I won’t make you talk with anyone!” your friend begs as she pulls your sleeve. 

With a sigh, you give in, and she starts to head for the closet of your room to find things for you to wear.

“I’ll come as long as you let me choose my own outfit,” you say. Your friend agrees with a quick nod before you can say no, and walks out so you can quickly choose something to wear.

All dressed up, you and your friend leave and head to a nearby club, one that is apparently good, according to your friend. Her hourglass is still full of trickling sand too, but she’s always in the club looking for a lover. 

“I don’t really believe in soulmates or destiny,” she always says. “I’ll find my own lover!” but sadly, her relationships never last.

There is a long lineup outside of the club already when you approach it, the black doors shut with two ushers on either side. The building is only two floors high, with all of the bricks painted black. 

Your friend has her arm looped in yours tightly, and is walking for the doors. You wonder why she’s not going to back of the line and get worried when people glare at you. But the ushers seem to recognize her and open the door for her immediately.

“How did we get in that fast?” you whisper in her ear as the two of you enter.

“I come here way too often,” she responds. “Everyone here knows me!”

The music gets louder and louder as the darkness of the hallway leading to the main area swallows you. Then, it’s all bright lights and people moving their bodies: dancing, laughing, flirting, singing along.

Your friend walks to the dance floor immediately, and you notice a lot of people eyeing her and her moves up. You don’t want to leave her side but you’re hesitant to be the centre of attention, so you just hang around the lounging area, becoming a wallflower.

While still dancing, your friend gestures for you to join her, but you shake your head and she gives you a pout. She ends up dancing over to you and dragging you to dance with her. I’ll never forgive you for this, you think.

You try your best to loosen up and enjoy the moment, imagining that no one is watching you, even though you have become the centre of attention as you dance around your friend who is popular here. She doesn’t care though; all her attention is on you and helping you have a good time. 

Looking around, your eyes fall on the DJ who is on a platform near the back of the club, clearly enjoying himself as he belts out tunes. You admire the way he’s vibing with the music and having a good time. 

The black hair that keeps prickling his eyes bounce around as he moves his head to the beat. His large eyes move away from his hands that are entangled with the buttons and keys in front of him to look at the people on the dance floor. When his eyes meet yours, he gives you a small smile, nodding at you. You can’t help but wonder if that smile was a greeting or if he was laughing at your embarrassing moves.

“Stop staring at the DJ!” your friend shouts in your ear, trying to break through the loud music.

You stick your tongue out at her and continue to dance.

After some time, you’re worn out and resting in the lounging area, drinking something cold to help you cool off and catch your breath. You can’t help but look in the direction of the DJ again. Yes, he’s cute. Maybe you’re already crushing on him. You can’t help it! This is your friend’s fault >:(

You notice that he has removed his headset and someone else is taking his place as he leaves the platform while running his long fingers through his hair. Even the way he walks is so cool and effortless. You feel a hand wipe across your chin and you turn to your friend.

“Stop drooling over him! Just go talk to him already,” she says, sipping her drink.

“I can’t just do that..” you say.

“Oh come on! What, do you want me to do it for you?” she asks, already standing up. Even pulling her arm down is not enough to stop her, and you put your head down on the table as she approaches him. Curious, you move your head a little to the left to peek at the tall figure of the DJ who is listening to your friend’s words with a small smile.

As soon as your friend points in your direction, you hide your face again. The DJ laughs from his spot next to your friend. He places his hands in his pockets as he walks over to you, his necklace swinging against his chest.

“[y/n], you can’t hide forever, you know. He’s here now.” your friend says, tapping your arm that you’ve laid across the table. You slowly look up to see the beautiful face of the DJ grinning down at you. He scratches the back of his head before he sits down across from you. Your friend does nothing but give you a wink before walking off.

“I’m Wooseok,” he says, in a deep voice. “You’re [y/n]?” you nod silently in return, still slouched over the table and looking down in embarrassment.

“Nice necklace,” he says, making you realize that you’re pulling on it - your nervous habit.

“Thanks,” you say, looking down at it.

“Doesn’t it kind of look like mine though?” Wooseok asks, holding his up so you can see. 

“Yeah, but why are you still wearing it if the sand has stopped falling?” you ask.

He gives you a shocked look, his eyes falling onto his hourglass.

“It has... stopped falling?” he asks. He looks around before his eyes return to you.

“Wait, what about yours?” he asks.

“What about mine?” you ask, looking at your necklace again... only to notice that the sand in yours has also stopped falling. When he notices your wide eyes, Wooseok laughs.

“Our necklaces look the same and the sand stopped falling at the same time. I wonder what this means?” he teases.

“You’re my soulmate,” you gasp.

[fakesurprise]

One Evening, and What Followed After

I spotted the lights on in the fourth floor window of the apartment half a black from the building. And as simple as that, everything shifted. The building. An apartment. No longer the place I’d lived in for over two years. I didn’t break stride as I walked, hands still deep within my pockets. It could be nothing, but no one survives on could be. I walked past the building and halfway down the block. The moon was a faint sliver in a clouded sky, the air heavy with the promise of snow. It was the quiet and dark of an early November as I moved into one narrow street and down a side alley. Rats behind garabage moving away. The impressions left by a homeless man sleeping in a doorway. Faint sounds of TVs from open windows. I heard both ER and Roseanne playing through closed windows nearby. The neighbourhood was small apartments and quiet houses. No sirens within a four block radius.

Everything was as quiet and boring as I preferred.

I took a deep breath, double checked that no one was following or watching me, and a moment later drifted up into the darkness and through the air to the apartment. Everything is diffused when one is a mist: vision becomes hazy, smell and taste almost the same thing. Hearing remains, though my range is diminished; I could improve it all had I not brought my clothing with me, but that was far less wise.

I had a small stash in a tree trunk outside town, enough for a few months in another city. With the funds in the apartment it was enough for a new ID as well. Without it, I would be stuck being Wilbur Tanner. Not a name I liked, but if I’d learned anything since the change it was to pick names close to my deadname. If I had died at all.

I shoved all the thoughts borne of worry aside and slipped in through the opened crack in the bathroom window. The apartment was not large. Small kitchen, bathroom, a living area with couch and bed, one single dresser, a tiny closet. It was clean and quiet, on the top floor of the building and if I had to I could go right through the walls to get into the hallway.

You learn to consider such options when you haven’t aged since 1982.

I enter slowly, diffusing more until I would be barely visible as a haze in the air near the ceiling.

Four people. Two male, two female. And one dog.

The dog growls, barely loud enough for people to hear him.

Only cats are comfortable around me.

“See? We’re fine,” one of the woman says as I move into the living area. “I can’t believe you convinced us to break into his home, Sh –.”

“Norville.” One of the men, his voice flat and hard.

“Norville. Look. Fred brought his dog, followed that sweater from the club. Confirmed it was this apartment.” She is smoking, waving the cigarette like a conductor, nails gleaming with a manicure more expensive than my rent.

The one called Norville is in the kitchen. “I said there is something off about him. Look at this kitchen. The fridge has food, but the oven is spotless and almost no dish even used!”

“Dude.” The other man is holding the growling dog without a hint of authority. Short, chubby and worried. “We broke into his home. Wilbur might be odd, but this is breaking the law!”

“The place is clean enough for a serial killer,” the other woman says as she comes out of the kitchen. She is bored; some of that is Valium. Not as wealthy as the other woman, but she wishes she was. I suspect they’re cousins.

The one with the dog is named Thomas, not Fred. He’s clearly only here because he was promised food. The wealthy woman’s family own a few restaurants, and conversation fractures between them. All are tense, worried, listening for sounds in the hallway.

I could arrive outside my apartment, if they have no one watching. Could bluff them into leaving. Two men. Two women. One dog. None has a wooden stake, no hint of garlic to them.

I am being hunted by a quartet of idiots who watched too much Scooby Doo. It would be funny, except it never is.

And there is something off. Even as a mist, I feel the hairs on my non-existent neck rise.

The fourth one – Norville – comes out of the kitchen. Tall and thin, thick glasses balanced on his nose. He looks like a scrap of nothing, but he holds their attention, was able to draw them here.

The dog is growling at him. Not me.

I swear.

No one noticed, since mists don’t make sounds. The dog is briefly distracted by the wind.

Norville has influence, far more than his age and demanour suggest. He is wearing a thick leather jacket two sizes too large. Under it is a book. I can feel it, now than I’m trying to.

As thought it was hidden.

There are alien harmonics in the air.

Something is deeply wrong here, and I have no idea what it is.

“Vi, you folded his sweater and put it back into his dresser,” the chubby guy says.

The rich woman gives him a stare. “I do know how to fold laundry. It is best we leave.”

But even so, she waits on Norville. They all do.

I have no idea what the book is. Or what it does.

I leave, out the window and to another alley. Reform.

I don’t feel the cold. I haven’t since June 11th, 1982. But my hands are shaking as I look down at him, and for once I imagine I must look as pale as people think vampires do.

Is four people a coven? Is this magic? Is magic actually real?

I have no idea. And no one to ask. I start walking. My fault, for joining everyone from the factory at a club last night. Also for hunting earlier; I was too full of energy to kill four people at once, even if I was so inclined. I could kill them in mundane ways, but that book put even that solution from my head.

I knew I should go to the club, get information on them. Find out what they were, if possible.

But every instinct whispered for me to run, and I hurried out of the city before they became a scream.

I had wanted others like me to exist, maybe. But other weird things I had not considered at all.

Some days I thought I was all that. A decade a vampire, never caught.

Most days were like today, where I was amazed I was still alive.

I could stay. Confront Norvile. Ask more questions.

Instead i walk faster. Still seeming casual. Nor running. Someone out on a nighttime jaunt toward the edge of the city.

No one to pay attention to. No one important.

I ran, once it felt safe. Burned off energy drawn from people. Made myself hungry. Sharpened myself to being dangerous.

No one followed, or if they did they never found me.

It was almost two years later that I realized that Norville was the real name of Shaggy.

And it left me with even more questions, and less of a desire for answers.

Because for all the book did, they’d still made fun of him.

As if they knew something about him that he never knew.

I tried to tell myself it was a foolish idea, but it persisted like pinstripe clothing had. What if they did know nothing. What if they made him real, by accident? What if that could happen.

And what if I was somehow that as well?

Drugs don’t work on me like they do on humans.

I spent most of 1996 trying to invalidate that truth.

[orangenfrottee]

Sweet Water River (WIP, 1/2?)

Sometimes, fire wasn’t the best solution. But it was the first anyone in Riverdale thought of. Things were already pretty out of control when everything started happening at once.

This picks up where chapter fourty-five left us and was meant as a short one-shot. It’s currently at 4000 words and could grow depending on feedback. It still needs some edit work.

Characters: Meant to be full cast. More or less in order of total screen time so far: Betty, Toni, Ethel, Fred, Cheryl, Pretty Poisons, narrator!Jughead, Archie, Veronica, Jellybean, Kevin, Evelyn, Sweat Pea, Fangs, Pop, Ricky, Reggie, Hotdog, Penny, Penelope, Juniper, Edgar, Jughead, FP, Nana Rose, Polly, Hal, Dagwood, Vegas

Relationships: Mostly gen with current canon pairings: Cheryl/Toni,  Archie/Veronica, Kevin/Fangs, Reggie/Veronica, Betty/Jughead, past Archie/Josie (mentioned), Edgar/Everyone (somewhat mentioned)

Tags: crack treated seriously, the farm, arson, fire, Serpent Laws

Warnings: canon typical insanity, canon typical self-harm, canon typical drug use, fire, religiously motivated plural marriages, original names for so far unnamed members of the Pretty Poisons, tiny bit of made-up backstory for Toni

Sweet Water River

An alternative chapter fourty-six.

Our story about the small town Riverdale, known as the Town with Pep, took another weird turn. Turns out sometimes just one time too many can have enormous consequences. This time it was as if a single domino stone was tipped that wasn’t meant to and suddenly the whole town fell.

It seems like all of us had this unhealthy fascination with flames. Again and again, it boiled up and over. Maybe the first time it showed its insane face was all the time back then, when we were still young and innocent kids. The weird boy lit a match and believed that was enough to burn his elementary school down to the ground. It wasn’t, but the police took his prints anyway, worrying about a possible arson career in his future. A couple years later, the Southside Serpents tried to set the Riverdale High ablaze in a petty act of revenge but were stopped just in time. These were the times we failed and no flames started licking wallpapers, wood or stone. But with time, we all learned.

The first to succeed was Cheryl Blossom. After she burned a book full of pain with her cousin Betty Cooper, she torched her childhood home Thornhill down to its foundation walls and rid our hometown of its horror house. Later, Betty tried to do the same to her childhood home but forgot to drench the building in gasoline before letting the candle fall. While the house survived, Betty learned. And the next time an occasion arouse, she recruited me, Jughead Jones, and together we set my childhood home aflame. We stayed after to watch the flames over a couple of Pop’s milkshakes.

So, you see, things were already quite out of control when everything started happening at once.

*

Archie Andrews couldn’t take his eyes off Veronica Lodge. With Josie McCoy gone and their relationship ended the way they did, there wasn’t really anything keeping him away from Veronica anymore. They were endgame, weren’t they? So, when they came way too close to kissing again, he crossed the last few inches. They kissed.

Reggie Mantle saw them.

*

Ricky DeSantos was angry. Kurtz stopped contacting him, again, and he was on his own, again. Ever since his older brother Joaquin had to leave Riverdale, he was left on his own. Again and again. As much as the Serpents kept repeating their rules, they never seemed to apply to him. Wasn’t a serpent’s family to be taken care of in the case of death or imprisonment? He never was taken care of. He always ended up alone.

That was why he gladly joined Kurtz’ plot to scare the young Jones girl and show her how fake the Serpents were. No one cared about their families. But that plan failed and he was left as alone as he was before. Hands in his coat pockets he walked further down the streets, wondering what to do now, when his hand made contact with a matchbook he took from the diner. The Serpents didn’t deserve a headquarter. But fire was pretty.

*

Kevin Keller wanted his family with him at the farm. He heard about Josie just taking off at a blink of an eye to tour the states with her father and decided, that if he wanted his father and Sierra with him, he had to act soon. He excused himself from dinner at the farm and went home. Finding the home deserted, he unlocked the front door and sat down in the living room and waited. Surely, they wouldn’t be too long.

*

Ever since joining the farm, Fangs Fogarty did everything with Kevin Keller. When Kevin excused himself from dinner, so did he. He missed his Southside Serpents just like Kevin missed his Dad and stepfamily. He went to visit their campsite and found Sweet Pea and Hotdog at the camp’s fireside. He was glad he got to see Hotdog again. He missed that dog.

Hotdog lifted his head, when he heard the well-known steps of Fangs and gave a happy bark. Sweet Pea looked up from the pan of beans he was heating over the fire and gave a small smile.

“Hey Fangs! Glad to see you back! Hand me another of those cans, I’ll make us some grub.”

Fangs smiled. He missed this. He grabbed a can of kidney beans and opened it on the way to the fire. Handing the can over, he patted his lap to get Hotdog to move to him, wanting to get pet.

“I missed you Sweet Pea. You should come and join us.”

*

At the same time, Betty Cooper hid behind some bushes in the snow and peered into a window of the old Sisters of Quiet Mercy and watched the farmies at their joint dinner of drugged goatmilk, savory muffins with their self-grown magic mushrooms and other weird concoctions.

She was waiting for an opening. She wanted one last shot at saving Juniper and ending this crazy cult for good.

*

Ever since she, Dilton and Ben had gotten so into Gryphons and Gargoyles, everything fell to ruins. Her best friends were dead, she was put on suicide watch, suffered seizures and was sent to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy where her delusions were fed instead of cured. Only saved by a friend, Ethel Muggs spent the last weeks trying to get her life back in order. It wasn’t easy. Her mother wasn’t happy she just fled the Sisters but obviously also didn’t want her daughter drugged. So, she went into helicopter mode. Ethel wasn’t allowed to do anything outside of school but come home straight after her last lesson. No clubs. No school musical. Still, most days she was just picked up right at the school gate. Twice a week she met with a psychologist.

She was healing, but somehow, she felt like something still held her back. Something she had to finally let go to become better. She had to take care of the bunker.

*

Edgar Evernever was a controlling puppeteer and while she did what she had to; Toni Topaz hated every minute of it.  She felt horrible at how she had to betray Betty’s trust after she plotted with her to get the poor Juniper out, but Edgar and his first wife Evelyn knew about it. They had her phone bugged and half the school were their spies. Someone had seen her walk into the bureau of the Blue and Gold and Edgar and Evelyn obviously were able to put one and one together. She hoped she could give Betty a sign, but she knew there were cameras in the corridors and just couldn’t do it. If she failed at proving her loyalty to Edgar, she’d had to leave and Cheryl would be all alone with them.

She felt sick watching Cheryl partake in the goatmilk and the other drugged foods, and she felt sick partaking in them herself. Sometimes she ringed for sanity. She kept seeing her dead mother in the flickering lights in the drowning chamber and repeatedly heard her dead father’s voice advising her to be careful. She clung to Cheryl and the truths she knew. The farm was a cult. Her parents were dead and so was Jason Blossom. She had to keep Cheryl safe. Edgar Evernever was a puppeteer, but she was no puppet.

*

Fred Andrews was at home, cooking dinner for himself and for Archie. Then the phone rang and Mary surprised him with a call. He was always happy to hear her voice. Listening to her chat, phone held between his ear and his shoulder, he finished cooking and split the food on two plates, making sure to give Archie an extra helping of proteins and greens, to ensure his son had a good sized and proper meal he just had to heat up when he came home later tonight after his boxing practice

Taking his plate in hand, he moved to the living room where he sat down on their couch, setting the plate in front of him. Mary was still going on about shenanigans in her law firm, that made him smile. Chewing a piece of cauliflower, he absently lit a couple candles, to give the room a warmer tint.

*

Reggie was livid. He did everything for Veronica. He drove over the Canadian border once a week to get illegal alcohol for her illegal speakeasy. He robbed her father’s illegal drug factory for her. He robbed his own father’s car dealership for her. He got his car taken for her, he got beat up for her, he got shot for her. What for? She held him at arm’s length, only letting him near, when she was lonely, constantly letting him know he was only a replacement, calling him Archie and brushing him off whenever she didn’t have need for him.

He was done with Veronica Lodge and her stupid speakeasy.

*

Jellybean Jones, angry, at her mother who just left town without giving her a good explanation and the rest of her family for always having so much to do and never spending time with her, did what Betty Cooper failed at. After emptying one of Hal’s left-behind canisters of gasoline between the stairs and the living room, she lit a match at the house entry, threw it behind her and left the building. Feeling the heat behind her, proof of her accomplishment, she stood at the road and wondered for a moment where to go now.

Behind her, the Cooper House burned.

*

Veronica Lodge smiled at Pop and thanked him for the takeout order he just finished for her. It was her rare night off and she would be spending it with her Archiekins.

*

Penelope Blossom hugged baby Jason Junior close to her. Riverdale only brought her pain and death. This time she would do it right. She set the baby into a car seat and grabbed her last bag. The two of them would leave the town tonight.

*

Ever since first Cheryl and soon Toni joined the farm, the Pretty Poisons were just abandoned like last week’s trash. But the Poisons weren’t letting them just get away with that. Grabbing bats and pipes, they sat on their bikes and rode towards the Blossom Estate, Peaches at the front. They would trash their stupid poolside that lured them in.

*

Penny Peabody left Riverdale the day of the fight between her and Gladys Jones. But she wasn’t done with the town, so she didn’t go far. Once her informants let her know Gladys was gone, she was back with a simple plan. She set the Riverdale High ablaze.

*

Polly Cooper put Juniper to bed, sure the special goatmilk she gave her before bedtime would ensure she slept through the night. After, she joined the other farmies for the trek into the woods, where they would light a huge bed full of coals and walk across it. It was always a special treat.

*

Chuck Clayton had everything, then Veronica Lodge stepped into his life. And boom, he was left with ruins. When he managed to build up the tiniest bit of a new life, chance happened. He got too close to his art teacher’s daughter, and now he was being kicked out of the program. He lost everything, again. And who’s fault was it? Veronica Lodge’s. He would make sure she lost everything, too. Grabbing some canisters full of gasoline from the back of his truck, he started setting the Penbrooke on fire.

*

Hal Cooper was dead. Killed off in a freak accident during a prisoners’ transport. But most of all Hal Cooper was angry that someone had the atrocity of trying to use him, the Black Hood, the serial killer of Riverdale, as a chess pawn. But he wouldn’t be one. He was better at this game then Hiram Lodge. He’d take the asshole out. But first he would set his biggest fault right. He should have never sold his baby, the Riverdale Register, to that horrible man. He’d rather see it burned to the ground. Tonight.

*

Angry at Rosemary, a girl working at the Maple Club, for overcharging him, the random dude emptied his reserve canister of gasoline from his car in the lobby of the Five Seasons and lit a match from a matchbook complementary to the services at the Maple Club.

*

Archie Andrews was at the boxing gym El Royale getting some training in while waiting for Veronica bringing take out from Pop’s, when one of his boxing members from the juvenile detention center came running in.

“The Gilded Gloves last week was a set up! And I have proof that Hiram Lodge was behind everything!”

He snapped. Hiram Lodge was guilty of pretty much everything. Angry at himself and the stupid gym, Archie trashed what he could and set the rest on fire.

*

Kevin has been waiting for way too long already.  He missed dinner, but he was unwilling to miss the farmies’ nighttime activity in the woods. It was his favorite, walking across burning coals. He acted on instinct and set the old wood structure of his childhood home aflame. If they couldn’t keep living in their house, they surely would come live with him at the old Sisters of Quiet Mercy, right?

*

Fangs didn’t understand. Why didn’t Sweet Pea want to join the farm? Was it their campsite that held him back? It was winter and way too cold to live outside. Fire would surely help them be reborn. He grabbed one of the bigger sticks they used for firewood and flicked the embers and burning wood pieces from the firepit out and towards some of the tents. They immediately caught on fire.

“What the fuck?! Fangs?!”

“You need to join us Sweet Pea, Serpents. There is nothing left here for you now. Come with me, to the farm. All of us. All our Hotdogs. Joaquin. Midge. They’re all there.”

Fists flew.

*

Having waited hours in the bushes for all the farmies to leave, Betty opened the badly closed window with a crowbar. Creeping through the long corridors, she made her way up to the same room Toni led her into. Juniper was fast asleep. Betty picked her up and held her close. This time she would succeed. Holding her firmly she walked the same way back, out of the window and back to the car she parked just out of sight. She placed Juniper securely into a baby seat she just acquired that day.

She went to the back of the car to get some of her father’s extra canisters of gasoline she liberated from the Joneses’ garage. Hurrying back to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy, she dumped those through the still open window and threw a match. She knew this probably wasn’t enough to rid Riverdale of the stain that was this building or its history or the farm, but her priority was Juniper. She ran back to the car and drove home to Elm’s Street. Whatever came next, she’d need Jughead.

*

After their laced dinner, it was time for another session of walking through coals. It was cold outside and her girlfriend forgot to take her warm coat, so Toni gave Cheryl her own and went back for the other one. Just inside the door, she heard a soft voice coming from the kitchen.

“It’s going to be okay now, Juniper.”

Was that Betty? She’d love to check but couldn’t risk anything being caught by the cameras. She grabbed Cheryl’s coat from a hook by the backdoor and left.

*

Ethel Muggs emptied another canister of gasoline into the bunker. She was sad to see it go and sad it probably wouldn’t be enough fire to actually destroy the bunker, just its interior. Still. Throwing the empty canister in, she lit one of the matches she got from Pop’s Chock‘lit Shoppe and threw it in. At the same time, she started running. She wanted the bunker gone, but she wouldn’t burn with it.

Soon she had to acknowledge that while the fire might not be enough to destroy the bunker’s walls, it was enough to catch the trees and brushes around the bunker on fire.The wind helped it spread quickly.

She ran faster through the snowy woods. Thankfully she knew the area and the fastest way to the road. She was lucky. Just as she reached the road a car came near. The window was let down and Betty screamed at her to get in the back while she stopped the car.

“Ethel? What the hell happened here?”, Betty closed the window again, to save Juniper from any ash and put the car back to driving once Ethel was safely inside.

*

Reggie Mantle was back at La Bonne Nuit. Entering through the backdoor, he made it downstairs without being seen. It was the rare night off, so the place was empty. He wanted to trash the place, but seeing it, made it harder. This place has been so much work. He trashed some of the glass ware and started to empty the high percentage alcohols onto the seating areas and the tables. He dropped a lit match from one of Pop’s matchbooks they had everywhere and left.

*

When Mary ended the call, Fred stood up to bring the phone back to the station and froze in front of the window. The neighbors’ house was burning. With great presence of mind, Fred grabs their fire extinguisher and runs outside without putting the candles out first and without closing the door behind himself. An unlucky gust of wind brings the curtains too close to the flames. Vegas barks and runs outside, knocking against a side table on his way, starting another fire in the room. Within seconds the whole room is on fire.

Outside Fred has eyes only for the burning Cooper/Jones House and the small girl at the front door, that seems so lost and frightened. He runs over and holds her close.

“Jellybean? Are you okay? Where’s Jughead? And your father?” He tries to steer her away from their house to his and sees his own house nearly as merrily aflame as the other.

*

Toni and Cheryl were trading coats and kisses at the coal side when Kevin joined them.

“I think my dad and Sierra will be joining us at the farm soon.”

“That’s great Kevin. And you’re just in time to be witness to the newbies’ coal walk, too. It’s a magnificent night. Ma Chérie will be completing her initiation. Wasn’t your boyfriend supposed to as well?”

Toni let Cheryl banter with Kevin and concentrated. It was true. Tonight, she had to complete her initiation. She was supposed to be ready. She had to be. For Cheryl.

*

It’s not the first time for Pop Tate to hear the fire alarm at the Shoppe, nor is it the first time he smells smoke. Deliberately calm Pop tells his customers to stand up and leave the diner in an orderly fashion. Being the good man that he is, he makes sure all his patrons get out safe and sound and follows behind. Outside he asks for someone’s phone and calls the fire department. Just then, looking at his Shoppe, he realizes it’s really on fire.

*

Veronica Lodge was never shocked, so she chose to be angry instead. After she gave a short and anonymous call to the fire department about the burning El Royale, she zoomed in on Archie.

“What the hell happened here? Did you just set the building on fire? Archie? That’s stupid! This place isn’t even insured. Do you know how much money you’re just burning for nothing?”

Veronica wasn’t happy with the proceedings at all. And she wasn’t in the mood to listen to Archie’s explanations.

“Let’s go back to Pop’s. Maybe we can hide behind some milkshakes and think of something to do about this.”

They didn’t come far when they met the first scared person fleeing from the Pop’s.

*

“What the hell is going on tonight? How can the whole town of Riverdale just be on fire?”

Jughead and FP Jones were at the police station to pick up a couple of loose ends left over from Kurtz’ apocalypse and to make it easier for FP’s deputy to take over the position of sheriff for the time being, when suddenly all their phones started ringing at once.

“Pop’s and the Maple Club give matchbooks as freebies. Plus, fire = pretty. I’d say it was just a matter of time.”, Jughead answered between phone calls. When he saw Jellybean’s name light up on his mobile phone, he answered immediately. “Jellybean?!”

It’s a man’s voice on the line. “Jughead, she’s fine. She’s with me.”

“Mister Andrews?”

“Yes. Listen, both our houses are on fire and I can’t reach the fire department-“

*

Polly saw the flames first. It must be a good sign for their coal walk tonight. The newly joining farmies were surely blessed.

*

Peaches and the Pretty Poisons were just done trashing the poolside that now, in the winter, hadn’t been looking that inviting in the first place. The ruins of Thornhill loomed dangerously above them, so they decided to smash in the couple of greenhouses they could see on the premises.

“Girls? I guess we’re done her. Let’s go.”

They were just wanting to turn back, when the wind turned and they saw the thick smoke coming from Fox Forest and the town center. The fire must be huge. And it moved towards them. They needed to leave. Walking back to their bikes, she realized old hag Penelope Blossom never left the barn she stayed in to scream at them to leave her property. There weren’t any lights there at all, even her car was gone.

But there were lights in Thistlehouse. With Cheryl and Toni at the old Sisters of Quiet Mercy, was Nana Rose all alone? They couldn’t just leave her behind to fend for herself, she was half blind, couldn’t walk and has been welcoming all of them into Thistlehouse with hot tea or cocoa whenever they needed a little bit of grandmotherly advice.

“Change of plans. Amaranth, Quinoa, check on Nana Rose. Make sure she’s ready to leave. We can’t bring her on our bikes. Barley, Rye, make two teams and check the sheds, barns and the rest of the estate for other wheels. The fire’s coming this way. We have to leave asap.”

*

Toni was halfway across the coals to her Cheryl who was waiting for her with love and adoration plainly on her face and arms open in wait for her. Two more steps. One. Then her naked feet were finally back in the cold white snow and her girlfriend’s arms tightly around her.

“I knew you could do it, my TT. I’m so proud of you. Now we can all get married to Edgar on New Year’s.”

Reveling in her girlfriend’s tight embrace, Tony was terrified to even think of her feet. Or the new deadline of horrors Cheryl revealed. Looking up to blink away tears and check if Cheryl was really alright, she noticed the thick smoke in the sky. That must belong to a huge fire. A fire.

“Babe? Is the forest burning?”

*

The only car the Pretty Poisons found was the Blossom Twins’ red convertible. It would do. They helped Nana Rose, who was so excited about their little nighttime adventure together, to sit on the front passenger seat and placed her chair in the back. Peaches slid in the driver’s seat, signaling to the other’s to get going. They were riding to safety now.

*

Evelyn was the first to act. She clapped her hands twice and rejoiced at how all her sister and brother sheep immediately stopped what they were doing and looked towards her and Edgar for guidance.

“Brothers and Sisters, it seems our night has to be cut short. Please follow us.”

And the sheep did. They left the coals as they were.

TBC

I hope you enjoyed? I’d really apreciate feedback of any kind.

Also, I don’t think anyone will die, but pretty much everything will burn.

[samwhambam]

SAYM! my bday is coming up and if you could write just one teeny tiny coliver thingy for me that would make my day

UUUUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I LITERALLY CAN’T SAY NO TO YOU. 

happy 69th birthday babe and enjoy this cute lil thing that I wrote and did not proof-read

The halls of the hotel were quiet, all patrons asleep, or atleast keeping silent. The elevator dinged at the end of the hallway andsuddenly two men barreled out, laughing and stumbling over each other. One wasdancing down the hallway, moving his hips in large circles while the other sangan obnoxious stage whisper of At Last thatpenetrated every door they passed.

“First dance part two!” Oliver said, the first word loud andclear but the rest tapered into a lower decibel.

“At laaaaaast!” Conner began the song again after hisdrunken haze blurred the rest of the lyrics. But then he stopped suddenly,patting his jacket pockets. “Do you have the key?”

Oliver kept walking, stopping in front of their room. Hestared at the key card slot. Two beats of silence passed before he registeredConnor’s question, sticking his hands into all his pockets before pulling outthe piece of plastic. He stuck it in the slot before pulling it out, turning itaround and swiping it with the correct orientation. He placed his hand on thehandle, pushing down slowly. The light bounced off his new platinum band,shining brightly before Oliver pushed the door open.

Connor felt all the air rush from his lungs at the sight. Hestarted to move slowly, trailing in behind his husband. His husband. A word that was never in hisvocabulary was suddenly his favorite in the Oxford English Dictionary. Itbrought stability, a foreign feeling in his fucked-up world. No matter whathappened, they were together.

A world together where they were partners. No secrets. Equalparts in the murder club. After Connor survived law school, they were free toofficially start their life together. Visions of a small house on a streetwhere they weren’t whispered about in relation to their positions in theKeating drama. Vacations where they didn’t have to worry about returning to thenews of a friend’s death. A life where Connor could practice law. Something he was starting to realize was a lot to askfor.

But his daydreams were interrupted by reality when Olivertook off his suit jacket, draping it over the chair in the corner. The darkblue fabric covered the dull pattern of the chair and Connor was grateful. Hedidn’t want to see anything that wasn’t Oliver. Oliver who was now toeing offhis shoes, the colorful socks he had chosen to wear were now fully in the openand Connor discarded his own shoes, his matching socks on display.

His jacket also joined Oliver’s’ on the chair, the mid-tonegray a contrast against the blue. He sat next to Oliver before turning to facehim. Oliver smiled that large, gummy smile that Connor had so quickly fallen in love with. Then they both fell back onto thebed, laughing with their legs hanging off the end.

Oliver’s hand closed the space between them, grasping Connor’sin his bony grip.

There were so many things Connor wanted to do that night. Heenvisioned a hot and steamy wedding night where he couldn’t keep his hands-offOliver. Something sexy and filthy to mark the occasion that Connor had neverseen coming. They had every surface in the hotel room to consummate theirmarriage. They had all night. And an endless supply of lube that Connor hadpacked while Oliver laughed at him.

“We’re not going toneed all that! Just grab the travel sized one!” Oliver said in-between deeprumbles of laughter.

“You never know!”Connor had laughed along with him, packing the large bottle in a ziploc bagbefore nestling it into their duffle bag.

But in that moment, that could all wait. All Connor wantedto do was look at his new husband. His new husband who was looking at him likeConnor had given him the biggest gift of all. And maybe he did. He had takenhis forever, wrapped it up in a little box. Wrapping paper that was shiny andclean and creased perfectly along the edges and tied with a large red bow.

And Oliver had given him the same gift back and nothingcould ever compare to the twinkle in Oliver’s eye before he leaned in andkissed him.

[ratretro]

prompt: natsu having to take care of a drunk lucy after a party he barged into because of cana's phonecall

Title: Midnight Call

Pairing: NaLu

Prompt: natsu having to takecare of a drunk lucy after a party he barged into because of cana’s phone call

Rating: M; cause nudity mention I guess. I’m not sure. haha

None of these characters are owned by me, they are all owned bythe wonderful Hiro Mashima!

A/N:

May or may not be very barge-y. I always feel like he gets hellaawkward around her when shes drunk so im kind of winging it which seems to bemy best style haha it actually ended up barge-y so im kind of happy so here you go completed prompt under the read more!

           To be honest, Natsuhated that stupid thing. Whoever created these pocket sized lacrima wasdefinitely out to get him. None the less, the entire team had forced him to getone which they then discovered was their worst idea yet. First, they’d had to pooltogether money to replace the damn thing more than enough times. He was eitherbreaking it, or losing it, and rarely answered it when he did have one. Still,Lucy had insisted she was going out tonight with the girls, and that meant hewasn’t invited. Which was fine. He and Happy had been wanting alone time forweeks now, and this was the perfect time to have a guys’ night. Except… they’dimmediately become worried for Lucy within 30 minutes of her leaving the smallapartment.

           Whichbrought him to this very moment. It was the first time he’d ever kept thedevice so close to him before, and he’d certainly never kept his eyes glued toit. In fact, both he and the exceed had been buzzing with anxiety which wasdefinitely not how they wanted to spend their guys’ night.

           “I’msure she’s fine, Natsu.” Even though Happy was normally, well, happy he held atone of hesitation in his voice as he hovered in the air beside the pinkette.

           “Butya know how she gets, Happy!” Natsu sounded particularly exasperated with thethought of his partner drunk and asking some stranger to make her purr. Though,he also knew that his reasoning for that was a territorial issue as well as aconcern for her safety. He scowled at his train of thought for a second but wassnapped out of it by the buzz of his lacrima. There were only 4 people who had hisnumber: Lucy, Erza, Gray (unfortunately), and Gramps.

           Thename on the screen read ‘Lucy’ in big letters, and Natsu very nearly had aheart attack. Lucy had been out with Cana, Erza, and Levy for only 2 hours. Howthe hell had she already gotten herself into trouble? Hesitantly, he grippedthe phone in his hand, and tapped the answer button on the screen. And justlike that he wished he’d never put the device to his ear.

           “NA~~~~~TSU!!”that was not Lucy, but it absolutely did not surprise him to hear Cana’s voiceblaring over the music of what sounded like a club. Had Lucy mentioned a club?If she had he would’ve been glued to this damned lacrima the second she leftthe apartment. Had he mentioned how concerned he got when she drank? It wasnormal for him to be there since 100% of the time, up to now, she’d drank atthe guild. It’s easy to keep an eye on the entire team when they’re howlingaround the guild. Or in Lucy’s case: crawling. The thought of her crawling at aclub made him cringe immediately.

           “Whatdo ya want, Cana? Why do ya even have Luce’s phone?” he wondered briefly if she’deven heard him over the music. Before she could respond the dragon slayer movedthe device away from his ear to tone down the amount of damage his ear drums weretaking. He pitied Cobra for a single moment. Then, it was gone. Replaced withanxiety.

           “Well!Our lovely girl is having a blast of course, but~” she was dragging out wordsagain, and had she not been Gildarts’ daughter he might’ve just fought her in adamn parking lot.

           “Outwith it.” A demand, and his tone certainly was not on the forgiving side. Soon,the brunette was giggling through the phone.

           “Oh!Is that Natsu!?” it was Erza’s voice now. Is this what girls do? They getdrunk, and then call random guys until they get someone who will actually stayon the phone? He felt himself slowly slipping into rage. Why didn’t Lucy haveher phone anyway? Had she wandered off, and they needed him to find her? She’ddone that on more than a few occasions, and every time they sent him to go findher.

           “Natsu.Listen. We’re at Lullaby, and you should join us.” First of all, this wassupposed to be a girls’ night out or whatever they’d called it. Second of all, hereally didn’t want to deal with Erza.

           “Lookif you’re both done I’m hanging up now.” And even if they weren’t done he sureas hell was.

           “HeyLucy! You can’t just walk up to strangers every time we look away!” it was Levythis time, and it was definitely in the background. Why was she going afterstrange men? His eyebrows knit together, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

           “Justget her home safe will ya.” He was done listening to this, all he’d been wasanxious the entire time since she left, and he’d thought he left her in goodhands.

           “Willdo—Lucy no!” it was Erza again. This time a chiding, slurred voice came fromthe line.

           “Whatdo you mean, no?” it was Lucy’s voice, completely lacking her normal tone ofvoice, and way of speaking. Lucy wasn’t rigid like Erza sometimes came off as,but you could definitely tell she was the Heartfilia heiress. Well, with thefall of the company heiress was an incorrect term, but that wasn’t really theproblem. She’d lost that particular pattern of speaking, and that had himnearly groaning into the phone.

           “That’sNatsu! Duh. Look, there’s a scarf so he’s not a stranger.” Some of her wordsstarted awkwardly stringing together, but there was no mistaking Lucy’sinterpretation of the situation. She saw a scarf, and immediately thought he’dcome there. Which means the ‘stranger’ was someone she thought was him.

           “I’mon my way.” Click. He shoved the stupid ass lacrima into his pocket, beforeexiting their apartment, and stalking down the road. He passed the canal wherethe boat men waved and gave him a ‘Hello!’ from the river bank. He muttered theentire time he stalked down the stone road, but a small part of him enjoyedthat she immediately rushed to a person she thought was him. Another part wasangry. If a scarf was enough to derail her than he’d have to give her a chidingin the morning.

           “Happy.Go back to apartment and get a cup of water ready will ya. We’re in for a long night.”From the look on the exceed’s face he knew he understood. The blue cat was wary,but gave a swift nod. He was gone in seconds. It took him about 10 minutes toreach his destination. He’d seen Lullaby a million times while passing throughto get to the guild, but he’d never once realized what it was. Well, it wasnormally day when he had seen the building so surely that played a factor.

           Itwas time for the dragon to storm the castle, and kidnap the princess. Heentered the club, and the first thing he caught scent of was Lucy. Truth betold, he could find her anywhere, anytime, any day. He followed the scentthrough the crowd, just barely making his way to the bar. Mavis, that’s why hehated these types of places.

           “Natsu~”Cana’s voice rang to his right, and he immediately turned. He supposed the lookon his face must’ve caught her off guard, because she let out a tiny squeak,and a chuckle.

           “Youliiiiiiike her!” she was mimicking Happy now, but he wasn’t going to deny theaccusation. He was here for a blonde, and he’d be leaving with a blonde. Cana pointedthrough the path of people, and he immediately saw her. There’s no way hewouldn’t. Her hair was the color of sunflowers, and her skin as white as snow.She was talking to a man, and he noticed quickly it was the man in the scarf.

           “Thanks,Cana.” He wasted no time barging through the crowd, and leaving a chorus of ‘hey!’in his wake. As soon as he was in reach he gripped her upper arm, and whirlingher around to face him.

           Hecould tell she was about to fight back from the rage in her chocolate coloredeyes, but that meant absolute shit to him right now. Realization hit her like atrain.

           “You’renot Natsu!” she pointed at dick bag. That’s what Natsu had decided to name theman in the white scarf. “You’re Natsu!” she pointed at him a gave a sigh ofrelief.

           “Natsu~”she was whining, and normally he’d find it cute, but right now? Not so much.

           “We’regoin’ home, Luce.” He pulled, gently, and she immediately moved close to hisside.

           “Butwe just got here!” valid point. But not valid enough.

           “You’vealready mistaken one guy in a scarf for me! You’re clearly drunk.” Well, to befair that was the whole point of their outing. That didn’t mean he had to likeit. Then, she was sulking, and Mavis did he hate when she sulked.

           “Fine.But only a bit longer, okay?” he relented, but he would deny it if anyone saidhe was happy about it.

           “Yay!”and with that she rejoined the girls. He went ahead, and he drank. Not much, he’dhad maybe a beer before Lucy reappeared at his side. He hadn’t really beenpaying attention when she left, but checking her outfit now it more thanobvious she hadn’t been going to a regular bar. It was the little black dressin every girl’s closet (according to Erza). Strapless, form-fitting, short. He foundhimself gritting his teeth, but he brought himself back down quickly.

           “Let’sgo home.” It was a simple statement.

           “Ifyou’re not ready to go yet it’s alright. I wouldn’t mind waiting a bit longer.You were looking forward to this right?” he wasn’t about to ruin her night overhis own petty jealousy, but it seemed he’d already done a good job of that.

           “Atfirst I wasn’t, but now. I want to go home now.” She seemed to be pleasantlyhappy. She was humming, and swaying. He was almost positive the swaying wasn’ton purpose, but more of a lack of depth perception, and drunkenness. Shegrabbed his arm, and tugged, stumbling back a few steps. He pulled her to himjust in time to prevent two things. One: her nearly barreling into someone.Two: her nearly falling to the ground. He sighed, but led her from the clubwith ease. He was practiced in the art of Lucy navigation.

           Oncethey were on the street it was an easier process. He just hefted her onto hisback, and made quick work of their travel home. If it went as planned then he andHappy could get her changed, and make sure she chugged the glass of water.Which was why, when he came to a stop in front of the strangely dark apartmentbuilding, he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He’d struggledgetting the front door open which meant one of two things: Happy wasn’t here,or he was sound asleep. It turned out to be the former. He groaned loudly, butwent to work on getting his partner changed anyway. It was likely that the exceedhad gone to see Charle. They’d taken up late night dates by the river. It wasHappy’s way of showing off by catching her a fish.

           Natsureally wished the cat would let him know beforehand. Obviously, he would havetold him eventually when he left guys night to go see his girl. Though, Natsucouldn’t fault him since he’d done a similar action.

           “Alright,Luce. C’mon.” he made an upward gesture with her arms, and grumbled as he wentto work trying to get the stupid thing off his stumbling partner.

           “Zipper~”she cooed at him, and boy did he hate when she did that with her voice. Ofcourse there’d be a damn zipper. She turned around to show him her back, andmade several pointing motions.

           “Yeah,I got it.” He muttered before brushing the hair from her neck, and then tuggingthe zipper. The dress dropped like a ton of bricks, and he jumped back a step.Braless. She’d gone to a busy club, BRALESS,and then hit on men in scarves. Was she trying to give him a heart attack?Probably.

           “Somethingwrong?” she purred while turning on the balls of her feet to face him. Hegulped, taking another step back. There weren’t a lot of things that scaredNatsu Dragneel, but boy did she when she drank.

           “Iknew you’d come. If the girls made a fuss, and I slipped mention of a boy in ascarf. I knew you’d come for me.” It was sultry, and Mavis be damned he wasscared. She took a step towards him, and his skin turned a shade paler.

           “What?So, that was a damn ploy to get me out there!? Why!?” he was enraged. She’dplayed games with his emotions, she’d scared him because he thought she wasgoing to get hurt.

           “Because,”she mumbled, her face turning the shade of the pale pink carnations they’d seenearlier that day, “I wanted to see something.” She wanted to see something?

           “Yacan’t just ask outright, can ya?” he was mumbling now. He couldn’t understandher train of thought. Then, it flickered in her eyes. A dangerous look that hada shiver run up his spine. Now, she’d try to distract him.

           “Say,Natsu. Make me purr like you always do~” he didn’t always do that, but when shejutted out her chin, and he looked into those beautiful eyes of amber speckledwith gold it was like he couldn’t resist. He reached out, and scratched underher chin. She reciprocated the motion with a low purr that caused her throat tovibrate under his fingers.

           “Iwanted to see if you’d get jealous.” His fingers halted immediately, and whenhe went to hold her gaze, she immediately looked away. He knew that look. Thatwas the look she gave when she felt guilty.

           “I’msorry.” It was a low whisper, but he still caught it. One of the perks of beinga dragon slayer he guess.

           “Why’dya want to see that?” he was asking a daring question now. He was aware of hisown feelings for the blonde, and he was more than aware of how she felt abouthim but he’d been waiting on her. He was waiting for a sign that it was okay toproceed to another level in their relationship.

           Shepulled away, and stumbled to the bed where she immediately fell in. She proceededto roll until she hit the wall before tucking herself into her blanket for refuge.Not ready yet, clearly. That’s fine. He’d wait.

           Hecrawled in beside her, and it wasn’t long before she’d nestled against him, andwhispered several more apologies, which he gladly accepted. She’d recognizedshe was wrong, but the connotations behind her actions were more than enoughfor Natsu. They were going further in their relationship, even if it was just asmidge. That was fine. They’d be together forever after all.

[othercat2]

Fic: Build a Life From Scratch 5/?

Subbjuggulator Piled by Five Rusties In a Semi-Public Place! Sweet Pale Action!! Watch This High Church Clown Get Papped In Front of An Alien Voyeur!!!

You do not make much of an effort to conceal your tracks. She’s Sheena and you were never a boy scout. You figure with how mad she was, once she gets it together, she’s going to track you, find out where you live. The idea of having an angry Jungle Princess out there watching the house is not a comfortable one. You do not typically like to be the one being watched.

(You are pretty curious about what Demoness is up to. She emphatically hadn’t wanted either Highblood or Catskin, “Disciple” to get killed. Catskin was someone who had reason for revenge against Highblood and also Demoness. So, a victim of Highblood’s creepy religion, and whatever shit Demoness had had to do because her boss told her to. You decide that maybe Demoness feels she owes “Disciple” for whatever happened. Highblood of course, was being an asshole, whether or not he was defending himself.)

It takes you a while to get home. Demoness had done some fancy flying and dodging between the trees, and you hadn’t gotten a good read on directions while she was doing so. Fortunately, you’ve done enough walking around and exploring that you’re able to eventually find familiar landmarks and get home without getting too turned around. (The thought “home” hits you weird. It is not a term you expected to come up with for Demoness’ Neolithic Hobbit hole.)

It’s quiet when you approach the house, so you figure that Highblood and Demoness have argued things out and retreated to the bedroom. (You’ll be sleeping in the living area then.) You open the door and well--they haven’t gone to bed.

There’s a pile off to the left of the fire pit, in the middle of the floor. It’s made of bones and furs and rocks and Highblood is surrounded by five or so iterations of Demoness. Two are leaning on either side of him, and one’s in his lap, snuggled up against his chest as much as her horns will allow. One’s setting up tallow candles, apparently for some romantic ambience, and another is pouring something that is definitely not water from a waterskin into a leather cup.

Highblood himself is seated upright, but seems to be mostly half asleep. He’s doing some kind of scalp massage for the Demoness in his lap. They are both doing this sleepy little hum-purr duet thing.

“You going to just stand there, or come in?” the Demoness pouring the drink says. She hands the drink off to one of the other Demonesses.

“Should I? Looks like you’re all occupied.” Despite your words, you step inside the house, closing the door behind you.

“Disciple?” one of the Demonesses leaning against Highblood asks.

“Dirtblood heretic of a false--” Highblood mutters, glaring at you, for lack of anyone else to glare at. The Demoness in his lap reaches up and smacks his cheek. Her hand lingers, stroking where she smacked him.

“Shhhhhhhhhhhhoooooooooooooosh,” she says, a humming vibration that manages to somehow send shivers down your spine.

“Stop that,” Highblood mutters.

“No,” the Demoness in his lap says. “Rub my neck.” She shifts around so her back is to Highblood’s chest.

“I’mma break your neck,” Highblood says, but does what he’s told.

“Disciple?” The Demoness prompts, pouring another drink. This one she hands off to you.

“Catskin’s in one piece, and decided to leave me in peace instead of pieces,” you say, and take the cup. The contents are definitely alcoholic with notes of honey. You take a sip. It’s sweet and definitely alcoholic honey.

“Mead,” Demoness says.  

“Don’t drink it, shit’ll make you crazy,” Highblood says.

“It’s not mind honey,” Demoness says back. “Just honey.”

“Mind honey?” You ask.

Demoness explains about beehive computers, and how mindhoney was dangerously psychoactive. “Mindhoney mead could be a thing,” Demoness says thoughtfully. “But it would make your head explode.”

“That would definitely suck,” you say, and take another, longer sip of the mead. You’re about to make your excuses and call dibs on the bedroom (since they weren’t in it) when Highblood sees the toothed club you’ve been carrying.

“Where’d you get that [macuahuitl]?” Highblood asks. The word doesn’t quite translate, and you don’t know the word that you heard in its place.

“This?” You gesture with the club. “Demoness gave it to me.”

Highblood makes an impatient “come here” gesture with one hand. “Let’s see it.”

You glance a question at the nearest Demoness, who just smiles at you. The Demoness in Highblood’s lap shifts out of it and you shrug, handing him the makwah-whatever. The thing looks tiny in his huge hands as he turns it this way and that. “It meeting with your approval, big guy?” you ask.

“Some good workmanship here,” he says, apparently taking you literally. “Has a nice weight to it. Someone had time to match up the flints by color before fixing them to the club. Needs some carving on the flat.” He looks up at you, indigo-purple eyes amused. “Wiggler small of course, and it ain’t hardly been used. You just wave it in the bitch’s face and hope?”

“Told him not to kill,” one of the Demonesses says before you can get a chance to tell him what you think of that.

“Why the fuck not?” Highblood demands.

“Like I would’ve anyway,” you say. “Sounded like she had a pretty valid reason to kick your ass.”

“You talked to that heretic bitch?” Highblood starts to say more, hand tightening on the club, but one of the Demonesses pats him sharply on the cheek, and he growls at her instead.

“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t, that’s got nothing to do with your creepy bullshit,” you say back.

Highblood snarls at that. “You think you got any right to disrespect my faith?” he says.

“I don’t give a fuck about your faith,” you tell him. “Catskin calmed down once Demoness dragged you home by your ear, and I think we got a truce.”

“A motherfucking truce?” Highblood demands. “A truce you say, all motherfucking ashen in my face when it was my moirail that was all that kept me from destroying that bitch.”

“Is that how it plays out in your skull, asshole?” you ask. “From my end Demoness threw me at Catskin to distract her long enough to rescue your purple ass.”

“Like I’d need rescue from the likes of that,” Highblood mutters. His grip loosens on the makwa-whatever, and it settles on his lap. One of the Demonesses takes it back and hands it to you. He looks more tired than angry now.

Outside the Carnival, with no ticket in my pocket I am surrounded by nonbelievers. It’s the Highblood’s voice. You aren’t sure whether you actually heard it, or if that’s just what his face looks like, and you’re subconscious is supplying a caption from some of the things Highblood has said.

“You should teach him to use the [macuahuitl],” a Demoness says to Highblood.

“And why would I be doing that?” Highblood grumbles.

“You want him to just flail around with it like a wiggler with a stick playing at being a warrior?” Demoness asks.

“Hey,” you say, offended. The Demonesses ignore you, much the way they seem to be ignoring their boyfriend’s protest.

“Give you both something to do,” another Demoness says.

“Anyway, have to close the loop,” yet another Demoness says. “Have to make one, and send it back.”

“So I have to learn to use one, and how to make one?” you ask.

“Still don’t know how you think I’m the one to be doing it,” Highblood says.

The Demoness who mentioned the “loop” drapes herself over Highblood’s back, arms around his neck. She bonks her horns against the back of Highblood’s head. “We have to close the loop.”

Highblood growls at her, but it’s really more of a purr. “What happens if we don’t?”

“I’m pissed off because we have a broken loop,” she says, and bonks her horns against the back of Highblood’s head again. “Things that are made have to be made to exist.”  

Highblood sighs, extremely put upon, and asks you, “what do you usually strife with?”

“Sword,” you say.

“Size and shape, specialty?” He asks.

So you explain the katana, shitty or otherwise to him. In return, he explains the [macuiahuitl] to you, with a side trip to various other kinds of maces and clubs, with a further digression into flails. He also talks at length about what materials are needed for the creation of a good [macuiahuitl,] and training in how to use it. You make a few attempts to argue your way out of it, but Demoness asks you where you’re going to find the iron to make into steel and then the swordsmith to fold it all those fussy times and turn it into a katana.

After more talking, you abscond for the back room. You are not entire sure about what you’ve been talked into. You’re even less sure about how you got yourself included in their little pale bacchanalia. They were definitely more comfortable around you, and you couldn’t help but remember Highblood a few nights previous coming out to talk to you about your dreams. You think about Demoness taking you flying. Were they putting the moves of some variety on you? Did you actually give a fuck? You didn’t do relationships. You preferred anonymous hookups. (They were safer.)

You had to be reading them wrong.  

You dream disjointed dreams featuring you and younger-you. You’re both in the middle of a black-sand desert and huge broken gear wheels made of stone. The sky is full of red tentacles whiplashing across the sky, branching off. You’re talking about something but you don’t remember what it was when you wake back up in the evening.

Training becomes a thing, three, four times a week. Highblood chops a couple of pieces of wood down into crude clubs and you beat on each other in between chores. The big troll hits hard, but you’re pretty sure he’s going at maybe a half to a quarter of his usual strength and speed. Sometimes Demoness joins in with her skinny little wands and tendency to throw every goddamn rock within a mile at the both of you.

Somewhere out in the woods is Catskin. You can feel her watching the house, watching you. It’s eerie as fuck, and you want to believe that you’re just being paranoid, but you know it’s her. You think Highblood has a similar feeling; every so often you get this sweeping chill coming off of him, and you remember him saying, that ain’t you, that ain’t a fucking troll. So you figure it’s some kind of radar thing he’s doing with his terror field.

Demoness doesn’t want either you or Highblood going too far out in the woods. This pisses Highblood off to no end, and he spends a lot of time bitching about it. Demoness is also not happy about it, though for reasons you don’t understand. There’s this thing called “ashen” that Demoness does not want to be, and feels she’s having to be. Highblood meanwhile doesn’t think you are worthy of his ash corner and he sure as hell ain’t pitch for a heretic and so on.

Finally, you give up and just ask Demoness about it while helping her weed the garden. “So, I know we got side-tracked into talking about clubs, and talking about training with clubs, but there was also some commentary about ‘ashen’ which since has been a frequent recurring argument between you and Highblood,” you start off. “What are we talking about here?”

She grins at you. “We are talking about clubs,” she says, and laughs at the expression you can’t help making.

“Clubs,” you say flatly.

“A three lobed club!” Demoness says. “It’s conciliatory, like moirails, but instead of cuddling one idiot, you keep two idiots from killing each other.”

“And that would be the ‘pitch’?” you ask.

Demoness tilts her head at you. “Yes, but also no,” she says. “Pitch is concupiscent hatred. It’s rivalry, not killing. Disciple and Highblood can’t be rivals, no respect, no admiration.” She makes a face. “I’m pale for Kurloz,” she says. “I don’t want to think about him ashen!”

“First names, this must be serious then,” you say. “And I guess I’m the only one available to cockblock your boyfriend and Catskin?”

“I know you don’t feel it,” she says. “You don’t have to club them. But if I have to go ashen, it won’t be good.”  

You get a weird feel then. Like there’s a calculator in your head, adding things up. Highblood, Kurloz, really, really didn’t like making Demoness angry. You get the feel that Demoness could be scary as fuck if she were really and truly angry. She was pretty scary even when she wasn’t angry, but for Highblood she was also some kind of demigoddess. If Highblood were too scared of Demoness to feel “pale” for her anymore, they’d both be fucking miserable.

For a variety of reasons, you were feeling involved enough with your roommates that you didn’t think you could stand Demoness or even Highblood being miserable. Also, you were pretty sure it wouldn’t be safe to be around Demoness or Highblood if they were being miserable. “Well shit,” you say.

She gives you a questioning look.

“I should point out right here that I know fuck all about any kind of relationship, human or troll,” you say. “So I can’t guarantee I can do fuck all for them ‘ashen’ but I guess I could try?”

“Just don’t let them kill each other,” she says.

“Okay, I guess I could try doing that,” you say. “Maybe you could explain what the deal is between them? I mean, I have a pretty good idea what happened, but details would be good.”

Demoness tells you about the Signless, a mutant who preached about peace and the abolition of the hemospectrum. This was not a popular belief and went against most of the core teachings of Highblood’s religion. It was also not a popular belief with the Empress, who had Highblood put the rebellion down in his usual fashion. (The Signless and the rebellion were also absolutely necessary to ensuring the lives of the Players, which is the only reason the rebellion happened in the first place.)

The Disciple was one of the Signless’ closest followers, his friend and his lover. Seeing another troll after a couple of “sweeps” and having it be the Grand Highblood had sent her into a rage. “It’s not good for either of them,” Demoness says.

“Why is it important?” you ask. “I get the feeling you want her to stick around?”

Demoness hums an agreement, and drops more weeds into the basket. “I’ve been looking for them, for the others,” she says. “Not as much as I might, because I do what I want now, not what I’m told, but it’s important. That we come together.”

“Who is telling you what to do?” you ask.

“No one,” she says. A little while later, she says, “Ghosts.”

“Ghosts. Ghosts of who, if there’s no one around?” you ask. “And what are they telling you to do?”

“The Gods need to come into the new universe and complete the act of creation,” Demoness says. “There is a specific point they must enter. One of us is standing on that point because she’s a huge goddamn bitch so they can’t come through.” She glares at the basket of weeds as if they’d personally offended her. “I do what I want now, and what I want is no one fighting.”

“And maybe getting allies for some kind of showdown between good and evil?” You ask.

“What is good? What is evil?” Demoness asks. “This universe is half-made until the Gods come through and finish the work They began. That is what actually matters, not good or evil.” She gets up, and carries off the weeds to dry out and burn.

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