#long story short I went slightly softer and have regretted it ever since

[geek-fashionista]

Me: There’s nothing we can do except buy a third mattress.

Husband: We need to sell this one.

Me: “Are you in the market for a cali king mattress? Are you tired of your partner beating you to death in your sleep and need some more real estate? Do you enjoy feeling like you’re sleeping on quicksand and waking up with a ratchet back?”

Husband: We liked this mattress!

Me: Because we didn’t know it was a medieval torture device!

[rayne-storm]

AUgust 6 - Gaming

Title: MOON QUEEN

Fandom: Hyperdrive

As always, Hyperdrive belongs to my beautiful and talented BFF @rad-infiniitum / @starburnedfarrago

This was just super fun to write, and although the logistics as presented are just absolutely whack, I hope you enjoy!!

She smiled as she hit the buttons with routine familiarity, starting her stream. She smiled gently as she addressed her followers and her little intro video played.

There was her channel name: STELLA-PY , and the letters rearranged themselves to some bubbly synth music to: LETS-PLAY and faded out to reveal the title card for the game that she was tackling today.

"Good afternoon, guys! It's me, Stella-Py!"

"Py" in this case was pronounced "Pie," and the comments she had received about the similarity mixed with her heavier frame were old news long ago. She kept herself in a small frame at the corner of the video, just because she knew she tended to make silly faces playing spookier games, and if anyone really got a sense of her size from that, she applauded their eye for detail. Any hate got pretty quickly removed from the chat thanks to a friend who maintained it, and her lovely (if few) fans.

"Today, we're doing something new and short, while I recover from the awful, awful fetus monster. This is one you guys have been telling me to try!"

She pulled up the application on her computer, and a solid wall of blue illuminated her screen. From the wall, white letters in a vintage font appeared one by one to reveal:

"QUEST FOR THE MOON QUEEN"

Stella smiled and let the elegant chiptunes that came after the letter play for a moment before starting to speak again.

"That's right, folks! Quest For The Moon Queen was published seven years ago to itch.io by an anonymous, indie developer that only called themself 'BL00 SCR33N.' It's remained relatively obscure since then, which is a shame because it looks so cute! From what I've seen, this is an adventure game where the player is this adorable little knight, trying to rescue and woo the titular Moon Queen. I'm super excited to get into it, and please make sure to put asterisks before any spoilers to hide them!"

She paused to let the chat catch up, answering a couple of questions about her day, how the baby cow was doing, and when she would do a baby cow reveal (the poll for the baby cow name was still going, Moomin being the leader by far). The chat satisfied, she hit ENTER on her keyboard, and the screen slowly darkened.

First came a little tutorial.

There was a little blue knight in front of a white screen, and little floating text walked the player through the various movements they could do. It was relatively simple, arrow keys to move, space to jump, and a couple of keys or mouse clicks to shoot a little spark.

After the tutorial came an adorable side-scrolling adventure where the little blue knight jumped over hurdles and shot sparks at bees and little black boomerang-like shapes.

Three levels of slightly increasing difficulty later, there was a boss fight.

The boss was labeled "THE DICTATOR" and a chiptune-version of ABBA's "Voulez-Vous?" played. The knight grew a little taller, and was faced suddenly by a giant black tarantula with a hundred glowing red eyes.

The sparks were ineffective, and Stella began to panic when she noticed a small sword icon. Interacting with that froze the boss and brought up an option screen:

"CHOOSE YOUR WEAPON"

MY STRENGTH

MY SPIRIT

Well, wasn't that unique?? Stella immediately chose to fight with "SPIRIT" and the scene dissolved into a cute little cutscene.

The little knight stood before THE DICTATOR, trembling only slightly in the presence of the fierce enemy.

"I must go!" The knight proclaimed in chiming little chirps

"But why?? You have served me loyally all this time!"

"I must find my own path, and you must care for your fallen kingdom."

The scene dissolved again, and the spider rolled over, defeated.

Stella felt there was more to the story, but could only really comment on how sweet that was.

"This is such a cute little game! You guys are the best, and if anyone has any idea how to get in contact with the person who developed this, please let them know that I love it so much!!"

The next levels were water-themed (of course), leading up to a new boss fight:

THE EXILE.

This boss was a massive squid, with pink tendrils that acted as hair. The blue Knight's sparks again were ineffective, and again Stella was presented a choice:

THE EXILE HAS REPLACED YOU. CHOOSE YOUR REACTION:

COMPASSION

CRUELTY

Stella again went for the softer route, and again, the screen dissolved.

Surprisingly, the squid-like creature shrunk to being smaller even than the Blue Knight.

"I am afraid, Knight."

"Why are you afraid? You have everything you could ever want, now."

"Because I am so small, and this world is so big."

The knight knelt and gently hugged the little creature.

"Take heart, EXILE, for there are many large things, but there is only one of you. Develop your skills, grow your talents, and the world will bend for you."

The EXILE bobbed happily, nodding.

"Thank you Knight! Good luck on your journey!!"

The EXILE swam away, and the Knight progressed.

So it went, with such bosses as:

THE CORINTHIAN, an eagle dressed like a glam-rocker, who the Knight could either PLUCK or APPLAUD. Applause led to the Knight clapping and giving the creature a CD to sing along to.

a giant troll THE BEAST that offered a stealth option to SNEAK around or SLAY.

THE PRETENDER, a shadowy silhouette of a woman, and the Knight could choose KILL or KINDNESS. Kindness led to the Knight patting the shadow on the back, and with each little pat more of the sprite filled in until the shadow became a dark-skinned woman in a space suit.

Finally, about two hours of play later, the knight was jumping on clouds and was faced with the final boss:

THE DEMON.

This boss was a massive metal insectoid, and Stella waited for the choice to appear, but a minute of waiting led to her health being knocked down halfway, and a message popping up:

NOT EVERY BATTLE HAS A SOLUTION. DRAW YOUR SWORD AND FIGHT.

That felt… wrong.

The chat was exploding to fight back as the monster hit the Knight, but she just couldn't.

Tears in her eyes, she removed her hands from the keyboard.

The health bar was knocked down to zero.

NOT EVERY BATTLE CAN BE WON the screen proclaimed, as it began to fade.

Suddenly, a shower of pink and green lights fluttered down.

The chat began to go crazy. This, it seemed, had never been discovered before. Everyone always fought the monster, and gained a trite little victory screen, the little Blue Knight doing a little dance.

This was something completely new.

NOT EVERY BATTLE CAN BE WON.

BUT SOMETIMES LOSING YOURSELF ALLOWS ANOTHER TO LIVE.

The metal shell of the boss began to melt, and out floated a beautiful woman, pale-skinned with pink and green hair, and nearly translucent green wings that shimmered and glowed.

She floated down to the body of the little fallen Knight and kissed his head. The knight slowly stood.

"Thank you, Blue Knight, for your compassion. Thank you for setting me free. You do not have to hide yourself any longer."

The armor melted away from the knight, and an adorable little creature with blue skin, long ears, and yellow eyes remained.

The descriptions of the characters changed. The Blue Knight became THE REGRETFUL SOUL, and what once was THE DEMON became…

THE MOON QUEEN.

"Thank you, my lady," the REGRETFUL SOUL chirped, and they took each other's hands.

The MOON QUEEN scooped up the little creature, and began to fly up the screen with him. As they reached the top, they turned and faced the screen.

THANK YOU, PLAYER, FOR ABSOLVING OUR GUILT AND SETTING US FREE.

The screen faded to black, and Stella initially thought it had completely ended. She was about to exit out of the program (still sobbing), when a little message slowly flowed up from the bottom:

TO LUNA.

I LOVE YOU.

I LOVE YOU.

I LOVE YOU.

-NEIL

Stella couldn't help crying harder, and blubbered out her closing spiel. The chat still kept going absolutely crazy, some claiming that this was a hacked copy of the game, or that they totally knew about the secret ending. Suddenly a new kind of message began exploding:

The game was gone.

It wasn't on itch.io, or any other site that the chat could find.

What in the world…?

Stella figured that she would deal with the implications of that later, saying goodbye and logging out of her stream.

She gave herself a few more minutes to cry before she heard the soft ping of a new email.

She sighed and opened it, ready to be assaulted by some kind of anger (per usual when she streamed), and was surprised to see the sender was going by "BL00 SCR33N."

She opened the message, and it simply read:

"You saved the knight and the Moon Queen. Congratulations. Want to meet up?"

After that was a phone number.

This was a terrible idea.

She called.

[maddiefriendlovesbilly]

If you feel up for writing more ever all I crave is Ghost angst Constantly S a d //it can have a happy or sad ending if you want I just need to agressively throw my emotions at a fiction character who is also sad//

So anon, I know its been like a few Months or something since you requested this, but here it is,,, Ghost angst!! I can’t tell you my plans because that would spoil the surprise but what I can say is: MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

I present to you:

Once More, This Time With Feeling

Rating: PG-13 (but rating may go up), SFW for now

Ship: Ghost/Spooker

Warnings: Angst, emotional turmoil, Ghost being an idiot feelings-wise, dark/intrusive thoughts, blocking others out, next chapter may have more warnings

Summary: The P.I.E. team head out for a seemingly normal case, but things quickly spiral out of control, and Ghost ends up in quite a unique circumstance, to say the least.

Word Count: 3,516

Nothing unusual happens, before it all starts, nothing that would indicate how utterly to shit everything goes in a mere matter of hours. There are no red flags, or bad omens, or warning signs. Everything seems as normal as it can be when you’re a paranormal investigator for a living - so when the call comes in for a fairly simple job, Ghost accepts and gives the woman an ETA before shouting a quick, “We’ve got a job!” down the hall and slinging his satchel over his shoulder as he makes his way to the door. He hears a distant whoop from Spooker just before he exits, to which he rolls his eyes.

The car ride is uneventful, save for some antics with Toast’s driving license - or lack thereof. They reach the large office building a few minutes before he said they would, and the woman has a look like she’d be pleased if the situation weren’t so distressing - he’s been met with similar looks much more than one might expect. He walks over and introduces him and his team, all business, and only grimaces slightly when he introduces Spooker, though he thinks the woman might have noticed nonetheless. 

She’s mocha-skinned, a fraction taller than Ghost and perfectly kempt, with a perfectly trimmed bob and rigid posture that scream, “Inconvenience me, I dare you.” An immaculate suit and tie complete the look.

Her name is Christine Hemmingway, and she explains that she works in the office behind her as a supervisor - during a recent trip to the basement, she discovered a strange new door leading to a series of branching underground tunnels reaching lengths she can’t accurately estimate without entering them - an idea she wisely rejected outright - but, from what little she saw from the entrance, might span the entire downtown area. She heard noises, possibly talking, along with a faint ebbing glow, coming from one of the tunnels on the right, but shut the door before she could see who, or what, it was when the sounds went quiet and she heard footsteps approaching. When Ghost asks, she’s adamant the door wasn’t there before, and has replaced a water cooler and a stubby filing cabinet too short to conceal the door, both of which have disappeared completely.

Looking up at the building Ghost notes that it looks completely empty, and asks Christine if she has a way inside, to which she nods and pulls out a key card with her face on it, handing it to him while saying, “Lose this, and you’ll regret it - one, because you won’t be able to get out, and two, because you’ll have to explain to security why you’re inside a business outside office hours, and while I’m sure they’d just love to hear the story of a spooky new door in the basement, I doubt it will save you from being charged with breaking and entering.” Ghost nods and after unlocking the front door and jamming his foot in the crack, he tucks the card safely inside his bag. He hears Toast mutter something like, “Wouldn’t be the first time,” and snorts inelegantly.

Christine looks like she’s starting to rethink her decision about hiring them, so Ghost spits out something professional sounding along the lines of, “We’ll do our best to find the cause of these tunnels, you can count on us ma’am,” and it seems to work pretty well, until Colon breaks the silence with a sharp cough that sounds suspiciously like laughter. Ghost fails to suppress a side-long glance his way, and does even worse at keeping a single brow from arching in question; Colon only “coughs” again, louder this time.

For the sake of his likely rapidly declining paycheck, he just sighs and opens the door, holding it there and waving the others inside. “After you.”

The others enter and he takes the rear, letting Toast lead them towards an elevator with a “1” printed beside it. Pressing the down arrow, Spooker comments, “Nice to use a normal, functioning elevator for once, usually they’re either busted or do something crazy, like move diagonally or something, and are bringing us somewhere that’ll probably try to kill us.”

They all huff varying degrees of laughter, and Ghost replies, “I hate to burst your bubble, but I don’t know what you expected when you answered the job request, because “normal” stuff isn’t something we have an abundance of in the “paranormal investigation” line of work. It’s sort of in the name.”

Spooker shrugs and smiles at him dopily, and the elevator dings beside him, announcing its arrival as the door slides open. He flinches at the volume, smile faltering, and they quickly shuffle inside. Colon hits the ‘B’ button, cringing when it beeps too. The elevator shifts and, with a groan, begins its descent. They’re silent on the way down, apart from the occasional tapping of Toast’s foot, or the click-click of Ghost making sure his flashlight works. Spooker looks up at this, and Ghost can practically see his thoughts when he starts, and fumbles at the one clipped to his belt, mouthing “Oh!” He grabs it, looking quite pleased with himself.

Ghost feels something pool in his chest at the sight, much too fond for his liking, and when his lip twitches upwards in amusement, whatever was swelling in his chest immediately curdles. The not-quite-smile sours and congeals, writhing, until he’s left with a deep scowl and an aching where something softer once lay. Despite its unpleasantness, Ghost still finds the feeling easier to deal with; bitterness and discomfort were familiar, they kept him grounded in reality, rather than letting him get his hopes up only for them to be crushed yet again. He doesn’t know how Spooker stays so positive despite how often he’s rejected and let down, especially by Ghost - he doesn’t think he could completely bounce back from many of them, let alone do it as quickly as Spooker does.

As the elevator chimes its arrival to the basement, Ghost feels a sharp pain on his bottom lip, and swears under his breath when he realizes he’s worried his lip hard enough to draw blood. The other two are too far to hear it, but Spooker glances back from where he stands in the doorway, concerned. His eyes flick to Ghost’s lips - the bottom of which now has a small bump, and Ghost swipes his tongue over it unconsciously, tasting iron - and when he meets his eyes again Spooker seems even more worried. “Are you-” he starts, but Ghost interrupts before he can finish, responding, “It’s fine - just a cut,” and Spooker looks like he wants to point out that that isn’t what he was asking, but isn’t sure how, but it doesn’t matter because it’s shut him up for now. He slides past Spooker, deciding to just put aside the whole elevator ride for the time being - he can deal with it after they’ve completed the mission, once he’s alone. He schools his features to neutrality and makes his way across the room to where Toast and Colon are examining an old wooden door, ill-fitting in its modern surroundings. “I understand what she meant by ‘strange’ now,” he comments as he approaches.

“Yeah, definitely stands out, doesn’t it?” Colon shoots back, and rolls back onto his heels, taking in their surroundings.

“All I can really think about is all that paperwork they’re going to need to redo,” Toast interjects.

Ghost snorts, pushing past them, announcing, “Alright, let’s get this shit over with,” and gripping the rusty handle and turning it. He swings open the door to reveal an empty, narrow tunnel, too long for his flashlight’s beam to reach very far ahead, with archways presumably leading to similar tunnels. Spooker, being the last one in, shoves a nearby chair into the gap between the door and frame to keep it open, just in case.

They make their way down the main tunnel, shining their lights down the branches as they pass, every once in a while coming across a room, which they poke their head into, or an iron door - often locked, each with a small, barred window to see inside, and most leading to another seemingly identical tunnel, some complete dead ends, others to (sometimes totally barren) rooms - with no apparent rhyme or reason to their placement. Something about it all plants a growing seed of dread in the pit of his stomach, but he can’t place what it is that bothers him so much. None of these things are unusual to see in their investigations, and are all pretty by-the-book as entities’ lairs go, but maybe it’s the way it’s all laid out - there’s no practical way for them to search every single tunnel, that would take days, maybe weeks, so there’s no real way to know what to expect, and the door placement is so sporadic that it’s impossible to tell if something is locked because it’s important, or just another meaningless path to who-knows-where; maybe it’s that they’ve been walking for at least fifteen minutes and nothing has changed, other than the fact that he can’t see the door anymore, just a wall of darkness at their backs. There aren’t any lights, though Ghost does spot an empty sconce every so often, and Ghost isn’t afraid of the dark by any means, nor is he claustrophobic, but he can feel the darkness behind him like hands on his back, and the tunnel is carved just wide enough to almost fit two people side by side, with flawless smooth stone on all sides, and a ceiling that arcs just above Toast’s head at its peak, so close that Ghost worries it might come crashing down any moment. He doesn’t even know if these are even actual tunnels in the ground, or if they’re in another dimension, or between them - and he’d rather avoid repeating that experience, thank you very much.

Glancing around, the others don’t seem to be any more on alert than they usually are on missions, so he’s probably just overthinking it - but that explanation does little to quell the panic rising in his chest, which only grows larger, filling the space his lungs need to expand. He realizes he’s chewing on his lip again when the cut stings from being reopened. He digs his nails into his palm to bring himself back to the present, but the hands on his back have morphed into something colder, darker, and he can’t focus when, logically, he knows there’s nothing behind him but an empty tunnel and eventually an old door, but every instinct in his body is screaming that something is very, very wrong, and they need to leave right now, but he can't even tell if there’s still an available escape because the tunnel is so completely void of light and there’s nothing he can do about it.

He doesn’t see Colon take out his detector, and clearly jumps about a foot in the air when it shatters the silence with a shrill beep - and just when did it become so deathly quiet that the only sounds are their footsteps on the smooth, stone floor? - and when they look at him like he’s grown a second head he laughs awkwardly and says, “Warn a guy next time!”

Colon takes it at face value, and apologizes before turning back to the beeping machine in his hand; Toast gives him a look of “everything okay?” to which he shrugs, and Toast nods in understanding, probably planning on asking him about it later. Spooker seems unconvinced though, and while he doesn’t say anything, he steps just a fraction closer to Ghost, and maybe by doing so he’s admitting it’s not really fine, that nothing is, but nonetheless, he doesn’t move away. It’s not obvious with the close confines of the tunnel, but Spooker notices, and he smiles a little, but it’s tinged with sadness and something else Ghost can’t name.

That’s when the detector’s beeping spikes, turning frantic.

Everyone is on alert immediately, but Toast is the first one to motion in the direction of what sounds like approaching footsteps, bare on the cold stone floor. They all turn around to face whatever’s coming down the passage, the beeping steadily increasing as the footsteps get louder. A pale foot inches into the beam of one of their flashlights, quickly followed by another, and with it, the rest of the short, petite girl, a mop of tangled black hair hiding most of her face and slim shoulders. Her white dress drags behind her in chunks, shredded and stained from dragging across the ground.

Ghost feels his eyes widen, and realizes he’s stumbled back, pressing into Spooker, who’s practically holding him up by the shoulders. Through the strands of hair he can see a single eye staring out at the bodies crowding the narrow hall, and he knows it’s stupid, but he can’t shake the feeling that it’s staring straight into him, even though she hasn’t glanced up once yet. He’s pretty sure he’s shaking now, and can only hope that Spooker hasn’t noticed, for the sake of his pride.

The ragged figure stops just inside the beam, finally looking up. She meets Ghost’s stare, and holds his gaze - they stay that way, matching each other in a silent battle of ‘who will crack first?’

“K-” he starts, “Katrina?”

Spooker shifts behind him, Ghost thinks he might be staring at him too. He doesn’t break away to check.

Katrina says nothing, only stares.

He takes a quivering step forward, feels Spookers hands fall from his shoulders, reaches out. Katrina still doesn’t look away, but she also doesn’t move away, so he takes another step towards her, then another, then another, until he’s right in front of her, hand merely an inch away from making contact. The flashlight in his hands quakes violently in his death-grip, but he drops a hand onto her shoulder, which is surprisingly solid. This seems to break Katrina from her trance though, and she screeches - not unlike a banshee, Ghost thinks distantly - clawing at him. 

He veers back, not quite quick enough to avoid the talons that just catch his cheek, leaving two shallow claw marks behind. The other three behind him break from their stupors and begin shouting, pushing themselves bodily between the two of them in an effort to protect him. Spooker makes it his job to confirm that Ghost is somewhat okay, before turning back to face the enemy in front of them.

Ghost’s cheek oozes blood, but not enough to really be worried, so he just holds one sleeve up to the cheek, letting it soak up the sticky liquid. The others have their guns trained on Katrina, but he can’t manage to make himself do the same, so he just ends up standing at the back, watching. He feels like a coward. Bile still threatens to claw its way out of his throat as he stands there numbly.

Behind her ratty tangles, she catches Ghost’s eyes once more, before disappearing altogether. He hears himself sobs her name under his breath, feels his legs wobble beneath him, but somehow manages to stay standing, despite the sickening dread swimming in the pit of his stomach. It doesn’t last long though, because soon, the group of them are hit with a wave of vertigo so strong, they fall to their knees collectively. Ghost chokes on his nausea. He squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the swimming feeling, and when he opens them again, the long, narrow hallway is gone, replaced instead by an inky black room.

He fumbles blindly at his belt, whipping out his flashlight and flicking it on. He pivots, but his flashlight quickly collides with an obstacle - one that responds with a sharp “Ack! Dude-!” in Spooker’s voice.

“Shit!” Ghost spits, stumbling back - not very far, mind you, being that he hits the wall behind him not two steps back - and proceeds to shine his light directly into Spooker’s eyes until he shields them. “Jeez-Jesus, dude, Jesus.” He finally lowers the light, dropping into a crouch. “I gotta-I can’t, man. Shit!” He takes in a shaky gulp of air and tries not to scream.

Spooker probably has that look he gets when he’s trying to play it cool and seem unconcerned - but just ends up looking confused instead - because Ghost can hear it in his voice when he says, “Are y-?” He clears his throat. “Do you uh-need me to-er take care of that scratch? It could get infected if we don’t uh, do that. Yeah.”

“It would probably help to find some light,” he says, with more bite to it than either of them were expecting, “Y’know, so we don’t blind each other in this pitch-ass-black room?”

Spooker wisely does not comment on that statement, simply takes out his own flashlight and sweeps the beam around the room, eventually coming to rest beside Ghost. He looks up, realizes his head is inches away from the door handle, and sighs wearily before rocking forward and up into a standing position, opening the door.

He’s sure that neither of them are expecting to be met with a completely foreign corridor, still narrow, but seemingly lived in, at least in the past. Dim lights flicker overhead, implanted in a tile ceiling, a stark contrast to the empty sconces and carved stone of the previous tunnel.

They glance at each other once, before shuffling into the hall. Ghost sees three other doors lining the hall - one on the end and two on the opposite wall - and makes his way to the closest one. He moves to try the knob, but is impeded by Spooker catching the hood of his jacket and dragging him back, tutting, “Nope! We’re dealing with your injuries before we do anything else!”

Ghost feels himself pouting, and quickly changes his expression into one more neutral before turning around; Spooker seems to see it nonetheless, because he placates him by saying, “It’ll only sting for a second, promise!”

He pulls him to the ground, and Ghost crosses his legs, resting his uninjured cheek on his hand. He’s very much not sulking right now, even if Toast would tease him for it if he were present. He especially doesn’t glare at the alcohol as Spooker pulls it out. He does hiss as Spooker dabs at his cut, and he can see how much Spooker is struggling to not roll his eyes.

Finally, he’s allowed to do actually important things, and walks to the door, gripping the handle. It rattles, staunchly denying him entry, so he moves on. The next one does the same, and he moves to the one at the end of the hallway, which thankfully swings open with a grating creak, revealing a dimmer, but otherwise identical hallway to the one behind him. He repeats the process, with the exact same result as the previous section. He glances back at Spooker before pushing open the door at the end, to reveal a slightly dimmer version.

Again, he tries the doors. Again, the one at the end is the only one that opens. The next hallway is slightly darker than the last.

Ghost’s stomach churns nervously, and he glances once more at Spooker, whose expression is starting to match his own.

The light quickly diminishes, and soon enough they’re flicking their flashlights back on. “Crap-” he hears behind him, just before their lights flicker once, twice, and die simultaneously. A familiar giggle echoes throughout the small corridor, and Ghost shivers, moving minutely closer to where he last saw Spooker. Ghost shakes himself and fumbles toward the end of the hall, using the walls to guide himself. “Try the other doors, I’ll try the one at the end of the hall.” He hits the end of the hall a little harder than he meant to, and is a little glad for the dark, even if it can’t hide the soft ‘thud’ that bounces through the room. The door rattles in its frame, unbudging, so Ghost throws over his shoulder, “This one’s stuck, what about the others?”

“No luck over he-Woah!” A slam ricochets throughout the small place - presumably the door meeting the wall in a less than pleasant fashion. “You good?” Ghost manages to get out without his worry peeking through, falling just short of nonchalant.

“Yeah...yeah, I’m alright, just caught me off guard. Let’s go.” They hobble through the doorway, which slams shut behind them. Ghost’s mind swims with deja vu for a second, but he can’t place the reason for it, so he decides to put it aside for the moment.

Ghost thinks later that if he had to choose the moment everything truly started going to shit, he might choose this one. Like the calm before the storm, or the eye of a hurricane, or some other cliché crap.

Either way, the soft click of the door locking behind them feels like an omen of things to come.

Or maybe it’s the axe swinging directly toward Spooker’s head.

[notgonnarememberthis]

A Compromising Engagement - Chapter 3

Ho boy was getting to this point a struggle. I had very much intended on sending this chapter out at the beginning of December but when finals hit they hit HARD. I had the great misfortune of taking physics this semester and it was biting off a lot more that I could chew. I ended up having to abandon a lot of things that I wanted to do including getting this chapter finished and participating in Elementary month. I may still throw together some short prompts for that but I needed a long and restful break after finals. But I am back. No idea what I’m doing for the next chapter but that’s a beast for another day.

I’d also like to thank y’all for the massive amount of support for this story. I never would have imagined when mapping this concept out that people would respond so well. Hope y’all enjoy this update and again, thank you. Your kind words mean so much.

Sherlock wakes to the opposite end of his bed dipping violently. Falling asleep in a bed for him is a rarity, however, with a motorcycle settled in the place their couch once was, he had no choice but to retire to his bedroom once sleep threatened to claim him. He opens his eyes to find Watson wild eyed laying next to him. Her cheeks are flushed and chest heaving from effort to catch her breath.

He says nothing, allowing her to explain herself. “Mrs. Hudson let your father inside. They’re coming up the stairs right now.” Surely enough he can hear the amicable chatter of the other woman steadily approaching.

They’d been expecting his father for a week since he sent nothing more than a letter announcing their engagement. It would enrage him enough not to notice the convenient timing of the letter. Her mother, however, had yet to be informed. Hers will take much more planning as this one will be a face to face conversation. They spent the week preparing their story so absolutely no gaps or faults could be spotted and pointed out.

He nods to her, granting permission for whatever she had in mind. She pulls the sheet over herself settling herself next to him. She turns her back to the door allowing her head to rest on his chest. He places an arm over her noting how soft her cardigan feels. No wonder she wears it so much. Once again the smell of her washes over him, lulling him into an odd sense of calm he’s not quite used to. He relaxes into the hold savoring the small moments where they’re alone. Her breathing evens out and she closes her eyes as if she were sleeping all along.

He tracks them across the landing, first going to Watson’s room. He can hear Mrs. Hudson’s confusion at her being missing. She’d spied the ring once before, but said nothing. However, with Watson ‘resting’ on his bare chest, he’s certain she’s going to have enough questions that could rival what Mary could throw at them. 

He ponders for a moment why they went to Watson’s room first, was his father planning on seeing her instead? He tenses at the thought but it’s her hand resting on his ribcage that forces him to relax again. His father’s observations could rival his own on matters that he actually cared about. Any sign of discomfort could clue him into their little game.

A swift two knocks announces the presence not waiting before the door swings open. Mrs. Hudson throws an apologetic look, it wasn’t her who had opened it clearly. His father stops in his tracks when he spots the woman in the bed, if Mrs. Hudson is shocked she certainly doesn’t give anything away. Sherlock raises one eyebrow at the two of them challenging any questions to be asked.

“Meet me downstairs.” His father is curt, not caring much for pleasantries. As he walks away Mrs. Hudson mouths an apology before heading after him. Practiced intimacy helps with the weight of her against him. She’d fallen asleep on him only once after a case involving children, so exhausted that she dozed off in the car with her head on his shoulder. He wasn’t that good of a pillow then but it didn’t seem to bother her at the time. Her fake sleeping is so convincing that he momentarily regrets having to move from beneath her, lest he cause her to stir. It’s her head turning ever so slightly that reminds him of the truth, she’s tracking the movement downstairs using Mrs. Hudson’s voice.

“Think he bought it?” She murmurs opening one eye to look up at him.

“I believe so.” She drops her head letting out a breath of relief. “Ready to face the beast?”

“Not as such.” Her soft laugh rumbles against his chest pulling a smile across his lips. “What have we gotten ourselves into?”

“We’ve gotten into worse. Wait until we face my mother.” He laughs allowing the short moment to calm him before he faces the monster awaiting just below them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eventually he has to leave the comforts of the bedroom. Properly dressed he takes the stairs quickly, ready to tear the bandaid off. The quicker he can turn his father from his home, the better. He rounds the corner spying his father on the couch, a cup of tea in hand.

“Your help saw herself out.” Sherlock opens his mouth to correct him that Mrs. Hudson isn’t their ‘help’. His father doesn’t give him a chance however, rolling straight into the questioning. “Will Miss Watson be joining us?”

“She’s still getting ready. She’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“No need. I won’t be here long.” He places the glass on the table pushing aside the case file resting there. “She has your mother’s ring.”

“She does.”

“I was under the impression that the ring was lost over the years.” He rocks on his feet nodding at the statement.

“I found it while transforming the basement into Watson’s own office of sorts.” A lie, but a clever enough one that his father doesn’t push further.

“The ceremony?”

“Small. Watson’s family, her brother’s, Kitty and Archie. I imagine the captain and Detective Bell will be in attendance as well.” He doesn’t bother with an invitation towards him. It would likely be met with an announcement that he was busy and send a lackey in his place. “It is both of our wishes that it be kept a private event.” He can tell the statement bothers his father but the older man doesn’t push. He’d rather not imagine even his fake wedding be used as an excuse for his father to make contact with more criminals and those with questionable morals.

“Very well. The ceremony will be held at my estate.”

“No it shall not. Watson wishes to be married in the same place as her mother and step father. It holds significant meaning to her and I only wish to make her happy.” The lies roll too easily off his tongue. “You’re welcome to fund the wedding but as you can imagine, it’s not needed.”

“I see. Do keep in touch. I wish to hear more in the future but I have a meeting with a very powerful ally. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.” The threat comes out softer than he expected. Convinced, even.

When Watson finally descends the steps he’s already gone. She seems relieved but concerned nonetheless. He guides her to the kitchen where he’s already preparing their coffee for the day, his hand brushing her lower back as he fills her in on the conversation.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Where the talk with his father went smoothly, Mary was the opposite. It was to be expected but both of them were uneased and exhausted by the seemingly relentless questioning. Their first date, when it became official, who knows of their relationship, how many dates there had been across the years, and more were tossed at them across the hour with both of them longing for a break and another coffee.

“Joan why don’t you go get us some coffee I wish to speak to Sherlock alone.” They flash each other a concerned glance at each other. This was far from what the two of them planned, but they’d have to honor her wish in order not to raise suspicion. He squeezes Watson’s hand nodding to her that it was okay. She’s still hesitant in leaving, eyes lingering on the two of them even as she goes up to the counter to place their orders.

“Mary-” She places a hand up stopping him mid-sentence.

“Save it. You are hiding something.” Her jaw is set, accusatory. He swallows heavily letting out a sigh. “Why did you propose to my daughter? Joanie told me before how you hate marriage. I won’t be fooled by a simple death threat with the two of you. You’ve seen more than I care to remember.”

His heart sinks caught in the plan. He nods in submission. “Truthfully, I proposed because of my father.” The woman across from him lets out a disapproving noise that feels more painful than any scolding. No wonder Joan is so well put together. “He had a talk with me, not unlike the ones that I imagine you’ve had with your daughter. My brother recently passed and my father is not a young man. He said something that frightened me.” He sucks in a breath. “I don’t wish to be the only Holmes remaining.” He glances over at Watson ordering at the desk. Her hair is swept up and her suit coat unbuttoned. A relaxed polite smile graces her features as she speaks with the cashier. “Watson,” He catches himself using her last name still. “Joan, she’s the only one I’d ever trust to share that with. For so long I thought the name only brought with it death and pain. Yet she stayed and I still can’t piece together why.”

“Good.” Her simple response causes his head to snap towards her. “The ring?”

“My mother’s. It’s the one thing of hers that I managed to keep away from my father. It’s the only thing that felt right.”

 “Grandchildren?”

“If Watson wishes I will give my life for the child just as I would for her.” A click of heels announces Watson’s presence again as she hands them each their coffee.

“Well now that the two of you are engaged Sherlock is going to have to start coming to our lunch dates.” The younger Watson shakes her head at the change in tone, shooting a look at him asking silently what he had said. He simply shrugs in response. “Have you told your brother yet?”

Beneath the table her hand slips into his, relief flooding over the both of them that thus far, their ruse was being bought. Not quite willing to look into the future at what challenge awaits them next.

@tamarknott @averageinside

Also a big shoutout to @lilspookydiaz for making this all possible in the first place!

[killerqueenmachine]

Yoü and I - Roger Taylor x Reader

Pairing: Roger Taylor (Late 1970's) x Reader Words: 4927 (including song lyrics)

Prompt: Lady Gaga's song "Yoü and I"

Summary:  There's something about the chase - six whole years. After a brutal heartbreak six years ago you're finally eye to eye with your long lost love. Something about just knowing when it's right - I'd rather die, without you and I.

Warnings: Slightly angsty beginning, smoking, alcohol, fluff, a bunch of swearing, SMUT; fem!dom (blink and you'll miss it), fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, choking. Almost on the edge of being sappy.. Wow.   Note: The lyrics for the song is written in italics. I'm imagining this fic is going on in the late late 70's. This was supposed to be short and sweet but… I've never learned to stop and I was born with a very prominent 'too-much' gene. #notevensorryaboutit __________________

It's been a long time since I came around

Been a long time but I'm back in town

And this time I'm not leaving without you

"Have you heard Queen is coming to town?"

You glanced up at your friend, who was standing right in front of you. She knew very well how you felt about Queen. That particular band - or more precisely - the drummer from that particular band had you so whipped you felt like your life had been on standby the past six years. What was meant to be an innocent summer flirt turned into the biggest heartbreak you had ever had - and it was all your fault.

"Queen…" you repeated, voice barely louder than a whisper. Slowly you shifted your eyes back to the newspaper in front of you. Out of the corner of your eye you could see her smirk. She knew exactly what was going on in your mind. You had to see him. You needed him like you needed oxygen and even if he didn't feel the same way anymore, at least you could finally get closure.

When you met Roger six years ago, the two of you instantly hit it off. He was the exact type of guy you had been looking for. Intelligent, talented and slightly crazy. All you wanted was a quick shag and he made it very clear that it would be a one-time deal. None of you managed to keep those promises and your one-night stand turned into a date and then another date and then a vacation together. He didn't have a lot of money, but your family did and even though you wanted that to be a secret, you really wanted a nice get away with him. You flew to Nebraska to stay in your aunt's cottage. She had a wonderful little place in a quiet forest somewhere deep in Nebraska. For a whole week it was just you, Roger and an unhealthy amount of alcohol and cigarettes. And condoms.

Even though the two of you never officially called yourself a couple everyone around you saw you as one. To you he was Nebraska and to him you were New York or NY, occasionally even just 'baby doll'.

The honeymoon phase of your 'relationship' ended once you got back to London and Roger found out that Queen was going on a tour in America. There was no way you could join them - not even Freddie's girlfriend Mary or John's fiancée Veronica got to join them. That quickly became the end of your love story. Forced apart, both broken hearted. Or so you thought. Barely a week after Queen had left the UK all the papers were filled with Roger's promiscuous life and how he had one woman after the other slung across his lap.

"Hello? Are you in there?" Your friend lightly knocked you on the top of your head.

"Uh, yeah.. Sorry just going through some.. Memories" you shrugged.

"Thought so. Do you wanna go see them?... See him?" she asked quietly before handing you another cup of tea.

"I suppose" your voice was cold and hard, which was very unlike you. But you needed to see him.

A few weeks later the day was upon you. Queen was in town and you were mentally preparing to either get your man back or get your heart broken once and for all. You were there early with your friend which luckily resulted in you getting to the very front. Front and on the right. The concert was amazing - of course it was. Those four men were the most talented people you had ever known and seeing all of them again made you so happy. You had forgotten how good they made you feel - just seeing them have fun on stage was enough to knock the air out of you. At one point you got eye contact with Brian who quickly recognized you and flashed a toothy smile in your direction.

As the band prepared to perform their song "'39" all of them - including Roger - moved to the front of the stage. On his way down from the drum rises, Brian grabbed on to his arm and said something in his ear, which made him look in your direction - you could only imagine, that Brian had made him aware of your presence. Finally, his eyes caught yours and you could feel your cheeks redden. His jaw almost dropped, and he seemed to forget where he was and where he was going, which Brian quickly reminded him of.

As soon as the concert ended you saw Roger run off stage and before you even had the opportunity to move away with the crowd, a security-person came and asked you to stay back, "Roger Taylor's order". You bid your friend goodbye, even though she had offered to stay. Whatever was about to happen, needed to be between you and Roger.

You taste like whiskey when you kiss me, oh

I'd give anything again to be your baby doll

This time I'm not leaving without you

Once the whole crowd had faded out, the fence was pushed apart allowing you to enter the stage area. The security person followed you back stage where you saw Brian as the first person. A light gleam of sweat covered his skin and his white button up was opened all the way down. He was the actual definition of eye candy.

"(Y/N).. Wow. It's been so long - nice to see you!" he exclaimed and pulled you in for a sweaty hug. You laughed and wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight. If everything with Roger went wrong today, this might be the last chance you had to do this. The hug broke apart, but Brian let his right hand rest on your shoulder as you broke apart.

"Haven't seen you in like.."

"Six years.." you finished his sentence, feeling your heart get heavy again.

He pulled you in for another hug and gently rubbed your upper back.

"Roger is waiting for you. He's in the dressing room with Freddie right now, but he'll come out once he's do-"

Just as Brian was about to tell you, Roger opened the door to the dressing room. He looked like a prince. His hair wasn't as long as it was the last time you had seen him, but he looked so handsome. Once his eyes finally met yours again nothing else mattered. Fireworks went off in your stomach and your knees went weak. He was right there.

"Roger.." his name came out as almost a plea. A soft smile tugged on the corner of his lip as he made his way over to you.

"I missed you so much" he said, barely louder than a whisper as he swept you into a tight hug.

Your feet touched, as did your knees, thighs, hips, stomachs, chests and faces. The hug couldn't be tighter even if you tried and the possibility of the two of you falling over was horrifyingly big, but none of you cared.

You stood in silence for multiple minutes while the world just continued on around you. Roger had one arm wrapped tightly around your waist and the other one around your upper torso with his hand placed on your neck. Both your arms were slung around his neck pulling his head into your neck and you felt his steady breath blow against your collarbone, before he shyly pressed his lips against the skin on your collarbone.

"Nebraska" you whined feeling tears threaten to spill from your eyes.

It wasn't on purpose, that you had used his old nickname but in the heat of this very quiet and intimate moment you almost forgot that you had been apart for six years. You felt him chuckle against your skin and for the first time in a long time your hug broke apart.

"Do you want to go out for a drink maybe?" he asked softly. Something about those six years seemed to have made him softer than you could've ever imagined, but that might just have been because he was just as overwhelmed as you were.

"Could we maybe go to my place for a drink instead? I really just want to be alone with you" you admitted, looking up at him through your eyelashes. He flashed you a smile and nodded, grabbing your hand and pulling you into his chest.

"I'll just make sure that everything is packed up and inform the guys that I'm leaving"

You nodded and ghosted your lips over his, barely touching them yet still getting the faint taste of whisky and cigarettes. He gave your hand a slight squeeze before he let you go and turned around to check up on everything.

You say sit back down where you belong

In the corner of my bar with your high heels on

Sit back down on the couch where we made love the first time

And you said to me

Less than an hour later the two of you walked through the door of your flat. Roger toed off his shoes as you locked the door and turned around to take of your stilettoes.

"Don't" he said and grabbed onto your arm. You put your foot back down and shot him a questioning look.

"I like the way they look on you" he admitted and smirked at you.

You just laughed and shook your head. If all you had to do to keep him happy was to keep your stilettoes on you would do it in a heartbeat. Your hand ran up his back as you walked past him and into your living room that had a small bar up against one of the walls. He swiftly followed you and as you sat down on one of the bar chairs, Roger went behind the bar and pulled up two glasses pouring both of you an old-fashioned whiskey, complete with ice cubes, orange twist and cocktail cherries.

"I still regret it sometimes, you know" he said, taking a fair swig of the liquid.

"Regret it?"

"The tour"

"Nebra- Roger.. You shouldn't" you didn't know what to call him. Every fibre in your body wanted to call him Nebraska. Pretend that the past six years had been a bad dream and that nothing between you had changed. All you wanted to do was to jump his bones and have another of those magical nights that you had shared in the past.

"You can call me Nebraska, you know that baby doll" he smirked, walking around the bar. He placed his free hand on your knee, pushing them apart and standing between them. His hand went from your knee all the way up your thigh before he snaked it around your hip, firmly pulling you close to him.

"I can't help but imagine what would've happened to us, if I hadn't left you. If you could've been there with me." He said, drawing small patterns on your butt with his thumb.

"We would probably be married and at the rate we were going at it, we would probably have a few kids as well" you joked, taking another sip of your whiskey.

"Don't even say that" he hissed through gritted teeth.

"We both know it's true though" you stated once again.

"Don't…" he almost begged. This really seemed to hit a soft spot in him.

"I.. I know. But look how everything worked out for you even-" He slammed his drink on the top of the bar and firmly cupped your face before crashing his lips onto yours. His fast movements took you by surprise but a quick second later you closed your eyes and melted into his touch, kissing him back with the same intensity.

He gently bit your lower lip as the kiss broke and once you opened your eyes again, a slight chuckle left your now swollen lips.

"You got a bit of my lipstick on your face there" you laughed, tracing your thumb across his red tinted bottom lip.

You downed the rest of your whiskey and just as you swallowed, Roger took your now empty glass and placed it on the table before lifting you off your chair. Instinctively you wrapped your legs arounds his waist and your arms around his neck. Both his hands rested on your ass as he walked across the floor and threw you onto your old brown leather couch.

Something about this place,

Something 'bout lonely nights

And my lipstick on your face

Something, something about my cool Nebraska guy

Yeah, there's something about, baby, you and I

You were laying on the couch while Roger stood by your side with his gaze locked on you. His blue eyes had darkened, as had the whole feel of the room. Pure passion and need seemed to beam out of his eyes. He towered over you, while slowly unbuttoning his shirt. You finally kicked off your shoes and once Roger had finally rid himself of his shirt, you reached out your arm and made a slow 'come-hither' movement at him.

"I've.. Missed this" he softly spoke. His voice was way softer than you had imagined it would be at this point.

He sat down on the edge of the couch and you scooted over and sat up to make space for him. He slid back and rested his back against the back of the couch, and you moved back over to learn your head on his shoulder.

"You know.. I missed you too. But all those stories made it seem like you had gotten well over me" You said, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder leaving yet another soft mark of your lipstick on his skin.

"Stories?"

"Uh.. Yeah. You were kinda all over the newspapers with all your uh.. Promiscuous adventures.. As soon as you had left to go to America" you sighed, reliving the utter heartbreak you had gone through, seeing all those pictures back then.

"I didn't.. Know that those stories made it ov-"

"Oh they did. I saw the pictures"

"Oh.. Listen, I just needed a fast way to get over you and it was so easy to pick up women and I-"

"Don't.. I don't need any excuses anymore. You're here now and that's all that matters."

You quickly rid yourself of your shirt, leaving you in your skirt and bra. While leaving a trail of wet kisses on Rogers bicep and neck your slowly crawled onto his lap, softly grinding against his crotch. The lipstick marks that you had left on his skin, fired you up even more. He was finally marked as yours again. Needy whimpers left his lips as you grinded down on him a little harder.

"You like that baby?" you purred against his ear, still grinding against him. At this very moment he was at your mercy - a thing that rarely happened. He nodded quickly, moving his hands up your thighs to grab onto your hips, steading you against him.

"Mmmh, keep making those pretty little noises for me" you said with a smirk. Your voice was sultry and sensual, which clearly had a strong effect on the blonde man underneath you. You grabbed his chin with your thumb and index finger and tilted his head up, so your eyes met. You had never seen him so needy and flustered before. You ghosted your lips over his before moving your hands down his bare chest and unbuttoned his trousers.

"Don't be a tease" he warned with a fragile voice, tightening his grip on your hips. You flashed him a playful smirk before getting out of his grip and sliding off his lap. He whimpered at the loss of contact, reaching his arms out to pull you back but you managed to back away just enough to be out of his reach.

"Can you take your trousers off for me, baby?" you purred reaching underneath your skirt and pulled of your panties, waving them in front of his face before leaning down and shoving them in the front pocket of his trouser. It didn't take him more than a few seconds to fly up from the soft couch and quickly pull his trousers down, before mindlessly kicking them off.

"Oh, you've started wearing underwear? Since when?" you laughed, softly tracing a fingertip over the black fabric that covered his visible boner.

He shook his head with a light laughter, grabbing your wrists to pull you close to him again.

"I missed this so much. No one has ever made me feel the way you do" he admitted, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone before reaching his hands around your back and unclasped your bra, pulling it down your shoulders and throwing it away.

You were both a sight for sore eyes. Almost shivering with need and anticipation, you in only your skirt and Roger in only his briefs. You laced your fingers with his, pulling him in for a kiss where neither of you touched each other’s faces. Even though it had been six years since you had seen each other, everything felt natural between you. Like it was meant to be.

"How do I make you feel, baby?" you whispered against his lips. You felt him smirk before you pulled away, gently tugging him along with you, moving to your bedroom. He followed along, silently at first, but once you squeezed his hand, egging him to answer your question, he finally spilled his guts.

"Like… Like home. You make me feel like time is standing still and…" he started as the two of you entered your bedroom. He swiftly pulled you close to him again, slamming your chests together.

"You make me feel like life has a purpose and" he sighed softly before continuing.

"I know you've read the stories about me and even though I've been with a lot of women, you're the only one that have had the ability to make me feel loved. Truly loved." he pressed a soft kiss to your nose.

"And truth be told" he said before shaking his head with a smile plastered to his lips.

"I haven't been looking for someone who loved me - or someone I could love. It's always been you and I hoped and prayed that you would be here for me once I finally grew up and realized what I had with you. You always were my baby doll"

You felt the tears prick in your eyes. With every word he said you felt yourself falling harder and harder.

"I still love you, Nebraska. I'll give anything to be your baby doll again" you said with a shaky voice.

"Let me show you just how much I love you, baby doll" his voice was raspy and strained.

Something about the chase

Six whole years

I'm a New York woman born to run you down

Still want my lipstick all over your face

Something, something about

Just knowing when it's right

Before you got the chance to answer him he roughly pushed you onto your bed and you hit it hard making you bounce. He quickly crawled over you and grabbed both your wrists, pinning them above your head using only his left hand to hold them down. You bucked your hips up against his, desperate for his touch.

"Patience, baby" he purred, placing sloppy kisses down your neck, over your collarbone and down between your breasts. His free hand went to cup one of your boobs, gently massaging it before he flicked his tongue over your nipple. The feeling of his wet tongue and warm breath sent shivers down your spine and caused a soft whimper to emerge from your lips.

"You're so beautiful and those noises of yours are heavenly" He almost sounded like he was begging, even though you didn't really know what he was begging for. He was in complete control and could do anything he wanted to at this very moment. He removed his hand from your breast and scooted off you to sit beside you instead, giving him easier access to your core, while still holding your hands pinned to the mattress.

He pushed up your skirt and didn't waste another moment before running his skilled fingers over your throbbing core. You were already so wet for him which he quickly noticed.

"Well now baby, what's going on down here" he smirked, running his fingers up and down your slit.

"Don't tease me" you moaned through your stacked breath.

"I would nev-"

"Yes, you would"

"Yeah I would"

As the last word left his lips he slid a finger into you causing you to loudly gasp and wriggle to get your hands free from his grasp, but it didn't help. His cocky smirk was glued to his face as his finger slid in and out of you, he quickly added another and started picking up his pace, curling his fingers up against your g-spot. Every time his fingers went over that soft spot within you, you moaned softly and bucked your hips, closing your eyes to focus on the feeling that was going on between your legs.

"Plea- I'm so close" you murmured.

He placed a soft kiss to your temple and pressed his thumb against your clit. A loud gasp ripped from your body as your orgasm started to flush through you Your toes and fingers curled, thighs and biceps tensed, and your hips bucked up like mad, making your back curve like never before. Rogers name left your lips like a prayer. A hot, needy prayer.

"Fuck.." Roger moaned, finally letting go of your hands and his hand flew to his crotch. A big wet spot started to show on his underwear. Your body finally relaxed again, yet your breath was out of control.

You tilted your head over to look at Roger and quickly noticed the wet spot on his underwear, which caused you to smile softly at him. The pure post-orgasm bliss ran through your veins as you lifted you hand and ran it over this thigh.

"That hasn't happened to me since I was a bloody teenager" he laughed, clearly a little embarrassed. You smiled in response and batted your eyelashes a few times.

"It's okay Roger… But I'm going to need a round two, so you better get that under control" you teased, pushing yourself up on your elbows to get closer to him.

"It's hard to control yourself when you're lying there making all those pretty noises and.. Mh" he moaned as you ran your hand over his wet underwear.

"Let's get these off you, yeah?" you asked, gently tugging on the elastic band. He softly nodded and laid on his back to pull them off. You followed his lead and finally rid yourself of your skirt as well. Finally, you were naked together. You sat cross-legged on the bed and just looked at Rogers naked form as he was laying there in front of you. He was so beautiful. A light sheen of sweat covered his chest and neck which made him look even more heavenly than he normally did.

You ran your fingers over his collarbones and down his chest, softly pinching his hips.

"I've missed this" you said, feeling like you had repeated those exact words way too many times already. He didn't respond, instead he just softly kissed your hand before sitting up across from you. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. A kiss that quickly deepened, signalling that another round of raw pleasure was coming. You broke the kiss and rested your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms lazily around his waist.

"Ready for round 2?" you giggled into his neck, while drawing tiny circles on his bare skin.

"You bet'cha" he laughed and leaned against you so hard that you fell back on the bed, pulling him on top of you. You looked up at his beautiful hooded blue eyes and fell in love all over again. The light from the room made it look like he had a halo.

He crashed his lips onto yours, needier and more desperate than ever. You spread your legs a little further apart making room for Roger to settle between them. His hardening cock rubbed against your sensitive core, causing you to gasp once again. Roger caught your gasp in his mouth, as he initiated another feverish make-out session.

"Condom?" he asked between the kisses. Every ounce of logic had left your body at this point and for once in your life, you couldn't care less about being safe or responsible.

"Fuck it. I want you to fucking.. Just.. Take me. Raw. I don't fucking care, Roger. Just.." you didn't manage to finish your desperate rambling before you felt him snake his hand down to line his cock up with your entrance and with a buck of his hips he bottomed out in you, causing you to scream out in pleasure. He filled you up perfectly and the quick movement took you completely by surprise - luckily he had made you plenty wet before.

"I'm so sorry, I couldn't help myself" he apologized and placed a soft kiss on your nose, not moving his hips so you could calm down a little after the very abrupt start.

"Don't apologize - fuck me.. I want you to fuck me so fucking good"

He kissed you again and started moving his hips, slowly pulling out before pushing into you again. And again, and again. His pace as so steady, clearly exposing that he was a drummer.

"I. Fucking. Love. You." he moaned with a raspy voice every time he pushed in to you.

You wrapped your arms around his back, scratching some long and severe streaks down his back. You felt your orgasm start to boil up which caused you to quickly move one of your hands down between you and Roger's sweaty bodies to apply pressure to your clit. Rogers thrusts were starting to get sloppier, but knowing that he had already cum once, you knew he would be able to hold it off for a little longer.

"I'm close, Rog" you whispered against his lips before pressing a soft kiss onto them.

"Where do you want me to cum?" he asked, starting to sound a little hoarse.

"In me.. Fuck a baby into me, Rog" Those words made him throw his head back in a desperate whine.

"Don't say that.. We're not even..-"

"We've been waiting for long enough" you almost cried out, so close to your own orgasm that you couldn't even think straight.

Roger moved his hand to your neck and gently choked you before pressing another needy kiss to your swollen lips.

And with that, your orgasm hit you like truck. You arched your back and a noise, that could only be described as a primal scream or growl left your lips. You shut your eyes and your jaw dropped, while every single muscle in your entire body tensed up and stayed that way for longer than you had ever tried before. Your walls clenched around Rogers length which was the last drop he needed to follow your lead into his own orgasm. Robe after robe of thick cum shot into you and the air filled with the sound of Roger's needy and desperate grunts and moans.

A few moments later, everything went quiet and you softly opened your eyes again, to see Roger still above you. His head was hanging down between his arms, that had miraculously managed to keep him from falling on top of you. You moved your hand up to move his hair away from his sweaty forehead before you pressed a kiss onto it.

The softest sigh left his tired body as he finally pulled out of you and fell down on his back right next to you.

It's been a long time since I came around

Been a long time, but I'm back in town

And this time I'm not leaving without you

After laying in complete silence for a few seconds, Roger managed to shove himself off the bed to go fetch something to wipe you off with. There was nothing more disgusting than sleeping in a pit of cum.

Soon enough he shuffled back into your bed and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I'll never leave you again, baby. Never" he whispered against your cheek.

You were almost falling asleep but seeing Roger with his after-sex glow made your eyes gain a little extra energy. You pushed him softly, so he would lay down flat on the mattress. Shortly after you pressed a kiss to his temple, cheekbone, jaw and lastly his lips.

"I surely hope not" you lightly joked before laying down. You placed your head on his chest, getting calmed down by the soft sound of his heartbeat. You wrapped your arm around his waist and moved your hips so close to him, that your pubic bone was against his hipbone. He pushed his leg between yours and finally the two of you were as entangled as physics would allow you to be. He used the arm he had under your body to draw tiny drawings on your spine, while his other hand moved over and tilted your chin up, so he could kiss you one more time.

"This time I'm not leaving without you".

[kuno-chan]

Fear

Summary: AU where Rayla gets captured and is reunited with Runaan in his cell. Ep. 8 timeline.

Rated: T for angst because I’m a masochist apparently

--

He ignored the pain in his left arm. Or lack thereof.

Prince Ezran was still alive. With the other human and Rayla, no doubt.

With The Dragon Prince.

On one hand, Rayla would take care of the egg. She would try. As much as she hesitated to take a life, her own… she would die for it. It was the strangest mix of relief and -- Runaan shook his head. On the other hand, why she didn’t complete her mission, kill the human princes and take the egg to The Dragon Queen herself was beside him. He just didn’t understand it. There was a time where he always understood her.

He supposed that, perhaps, he had sheltered her. Runaan had told her, but never truly showed Rayla the horrors of mankind. What they thought of elves. What they did to elves. Even then, sitting there in his cell as his arm lost more and more feeling with each vaguely passing day, his mind circled back to when he had decided to take Rayla on the mission.

She had proven herself in combat and he had figured that she deserved the chance to prove herself on a real mission. How wrong he had been. Rayla hadn’t been ready. Not that she would never be ready, but she needed time. He had more to teach her, clearly, if she put her trust in humans to care for The Dragon Prince. What lies had they told her to get her on their side, he wondered. Rayla was much smarter than this.

He should have kept her home. There, he could have found a different way to prove she wouldn’t hesitate. Taught her more.

And he never regretted bringing her more than when the humans dragged her into his cell and chained her right across from him.

There was that strange mixture again. She was alive. She was fighting, kicking with every inch they dragged her.

She was chained across from him.

When the human guards left the cell, she yanked at her chains, not even realizing who was in the cell with her. Then, she looked up and her eyes widened. “Runaan… you’re alive…!”

“Am I?” Her hand, he noticed, was just as purple as his arm. So, it had started to tighten on her too.

Her face fell. “Runaan… I--”

“Get some rest,” he interrupted her. “You’re going to need it.”

He meant it. She was going to need to preserve her strength for when that human came back. Hopefully, she had eaten and wouldn’t be too affected by the Xadian foods the human mage tried to tempt them with.

She slept for several hours. In that time, Runaan took inventory of her. Naturally, she was in better shape than he was at the moment, but she didn’t seem to take any damage in the human kingdoms. When she woke, he asked her, “Where did your braid go?”

She winced. “Oh… you noticed that? Of course you did. You see, it’s a long story, but we ran into some humans and they kind of… shot arrows at me?”

Runaan sighed and shook his head.

“Runaan, Callum and Ezran are different--”

“Rayla, they’re not different. You know this. Humans lie. They cheat. They will sell you out and maim you--”

“They tried to save me, but I told them to go! They even swore they’d come back for me. You weren’t there!” Rayla argued. “The egg is more important than my life. They can get it there. The older prince is a mage. He--”

“I don’t care what he is.” Runaan’s voice was firm. “Look where you are.”

“Runaan…”

Runaan looked away from here. He said nothing. She shouldn’t be here in this cell with him. She should still be in Xadia. Going to Xadia. Somewhere. Anywhere but here.

“Runaan, please.”

After a long moment, he spoke. “...where is the egg, now?”

“Callum and Ezran are taking it to The Dragon Queen. It needs to come from them. Runaan, you have to understand--”

Understand? How could he understand?

Though he couldn’t entirely blame her. After all, she hadn’t seen what he’d seen. Her life had been short, so far. In Xadia, he had been… perhaps he was the one to hesitate. Show no fear, they were taught. But there were times he thought of Rayla at the end of an enemy’s blade and it--

The night he faced her, he… he would have killed her if it meant saving the mission. Saving Xadia. It was his duty. He’d told her not to do it. Don’t make him fight her. Granted, she was no less confident, but he didn’t want to kill the child he’d raised. Even for Xadia.

In all honesty, he hadn’t been sure what kind of man he would be after that. Their duty came before all else. If the situation had been turned around, he would have been proud, hoped, that she would do the same.

It sent no less dread through him. When his duty was over and he went back to Xadia with no Rayla, her blood on his swords, he wasn’t sure he would ever pick them up again a whole living being again. Her death would have been swift, but his would have been slow and numbing.

Maybe he would even welcome it.

And yet, duty. Show no fear.

He made an oath to do these things first and foremost.

“I taught you better than that,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You put us all at risk. All of Xadia at risk when you gambled on those two humans.”

Rayla’s chains rattled. “I gambled on those two humans because you taught me better! Runaan, you didn’t talk to them. Travel with them. Just trust me, for once--”

He frowned. “I did trust you and you hesitated!”

“Well, I didn’t hesitate against you! Did I? I’ll do anything for Xadia! Even if it means fighting you..” Her voice got softer. “Even if it means being stuck in this cell so those two human princes can take the egg to The Dragon Queen and maybe stop this war. So no one else has to die… So no one else has to live with the shame I do.”

Runaan didn’t say anything. He never pressed her too much about her parents. Sometimes, she talked to him at night about them. Or over dinner. Sometimes, it was just a slip. But he had always wanted her to know that she could come to him about that. That it was okay to talk about what she felt because of her mother and father’s decision when The Dragon King was killed.

Rayla sighed. “Runaan, I know-- I know I’ve let you down. A lot. We’re here because of me. And I’m sorry for that, but what I did… I did it for Xadia. I meant what I said. I bound my heart for Xadia. It doesn’t mean I’m not still sorry that I couldn’t make you proud.”

Runaan paused for a long time. He looked at her, her eyes downcast and saw, for an instant, the girl he took in years ago. The girl who tirelessly worked to master her basic fighting techniques and would run to show him when she finally succeeded. She shouldn’t be here.

“Rayla--”

The door unbolted. It creaked open.

That human walked into their cell. The human mage placed his silver staff against wall, pushing in and uncovering that forsaken mirror.

“Excellent. I thought I heard voices.” The mage’s voice was cold, but there was something slick behind it. ”Now that you’re up, the both of you are going to help me with something.”

“Like stabbing you?” Rayla snarled at the mage.

He ignored her. “Perhaps, with the two of you instead of one, we can come to some sort of compromise.”

Runaan snorted. “We do not compromise with humans.”

The mage smiled. “You see. That is what has us all here in the first place, doesn’t it? Your kind don’t want to compromise with humans and look where we are. But a compromise can be forced.”

Runaan watched him, contempt in his every fiber. The mage put a bowl on the table in the cell. “I’ve already told you,” Runaan hissed. “We will never help you.”

“From what I remembered, we three were not here. You and I were.” The mage walked over to Rayla and every step had Runaan thinking of a new way to kill him.

Rayla’s lip was curled with disgust. “It’s not like I’m going to help you either.”

“Oh? But I have a proposal for you, elf. And you will care to hear it. Tell me about this mirror and maybe one of you can leave this place.” Runaan could see the flicker in Rayla’s eyes, but she kept quiet. Good girl. The mage, too, was looking at her long and hard. He finally sighed. “Well?”

“I can tell you where to shove it.”

The mage stared at her. “You’re so young. You don’t know anything about it, do you?”

“How do you know that?” Rayla quipped. “I could be a hundred year old bloodthirsty monster.”

“Rayla-” Runaan started.

“Rayla? Is that her name?” The mage glanced back at Runaan and flashed a small smile. Runaan could have bitten his throat out at that moment “Because I’m not an imbecile, Rayla. You don’t think I know about elves? You believe I’m just one of the common people who don’t know about your kind? Truly know about your kind? I know so much more than you think I do. Now, since you are useless on the matter of this artefact. Would you care to tell me where the egg is?”

Rayla hissed. “Why would I tell you anything?”

The mage crouched in front of her. “Why don’t you tell me? Tell me what it would take for you to give me the information I need to know. If you could have anything in the world right now what would it be? Your kind don’t care for money. Food? You must be starving after such a long journey. Power maybe? Your simple freedom?” The mage stood and moved aside, clearing the path between Rayla and Runaan. “Or is it his freedom?”

Rayla’s face fell. Runaan didn’t move. He dared not give this mage anything to work off of. But Runaan could see it in her eyes and the mage had, too.

Rayla frowned though.

And she closed her eyes. She looked up at the mage and spit in his direction. “I want nothing but your death.”

Runaan nodded slightly. The mage turned to look at him. Runaan and the mage stared at each other for what felt like eternity. The mage searched for that one thing and Runaan showed him nothing. Not a flicker of anything but disgust.

Then, the mage in all his bile, smiled at Runaan. “I see. Then you are of no use to me. Elf, do you remember the challenge you presented to me earlier? Before she arrived?” The mage walked over to his silver staff on the wall, purple stone gleaming. “The one where I was to find something you fear more than death?”

Runaan’s heart dropped into his belly.

Show no fear. Show no fear.

Show no fear.

The mage took his staff from the wall. He walked toward Rayla with deliberance. His staff shinked into position, the stone on the forefront. Rayla snarled at him.

Show no fear.

Show no fear.

“Well, I do believe that I’ve achieved my goal. Surely, I have found something you fear much more than death. Do you believe so--”

Show. No. Fear.

“--Rayla?”

The mage began his wicked changting and chills rinked down Runaan’s spine. Rayla’s snarl didn’t -- couldn’t -- hold as her face fell. Her eyes widened. Her mouth fell open. They began to glow--

Show no fear, show no fear, show no--

Only the blood curdling screams that erupted from Rayla had him rattling at his chains. She thrashed and kicked and convulsed as her very essence was being drawn from her. Her very being. Rayla’s soul was fighting against the mage’s horrific magic as bright purple lights nearly blinded Runaan, but he didn’t care. She was screaming and sobbing and her sobbing mixed with her screaming--

Rayla.

Years of war, death and bloodshed had painted his life, but Rayla’s screams of agony were the worst sounds that had ever reached Runaan’s ears.

Rayla’s screams died out. She died out. He couldn’t feel her there anymore. She was no longer there, her body no longer even physically present for Runaan to see. The mage turned around and raised up a gold coin. There was frantic movement in the coin--

The mage smiled down at Runaan.

“There it is. That is the look I was looking for.”

[s0mebodyto-love]

finsta

a/n: I’m back with a Ben fic to output my emotions about real life things lmao so here you go!! My actual experience ends with the post, so I’m hoping something actually happens lmaoooo. Here’s college!Ben with some childhood friendship and some fluff thrown in too.

WC: 1750

Every Thursday night, the bar right across the street from the bus station hosts a karaoke night, and on many an occasion you find yourself there with your little crew. It’s you, your roommate, and some of the girls you sing with in an on-campus choir for non-music majors. The drinks are cheap and everyone goes to sing and have a good time right before the weekend hits.

The little Irish pub lowers its lights and the prices of drinks, and fills quickly. Bursts of cold air blow through the door as it opens and shuts, regulars going in and out to smoke and college students pouring in.

You and you friends swagger in, wrists donning loose orange paper bands showing that you’re the right age remain inside and order drinks. You get a beer, while the others in your group sip on vodka crans and ciders, and you all commandeer a table towards the raised dining area acting as the stage tonight.

At this specific location, karaoke can be anything. Throughout the night, you see people singing their hearts out to Disney, ABBA, and Fifth Harmony. Anything goes, and everyone is singing everything. It even comes down to a group of nearly thirty-somethings singing “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling 29” that leaves you in stitches as you sing along.

However, the song you sing hits a little bit more towards home than you expected.

This week has already been a little bit rough. You’ve been on your period, and you reminded yourself of your on-again-off-again feelings for someone back at home… Ben Jones. You’ve known each other since the earlier days of schooling, back when you were 10 years old and him 11. Over the years, it snuck on you slowly just how much you liked him. Your families get along, and have known each other just as long as you two have.

You don’t talk a lot, and most of that has to do with the fact you go to different universities.

But whenever you’re both home, you find yourselves sitting at a high-top at the local coffee shop or shoved into a tiny booth at a local restaurant to sit, eat, and talk for three hours at a time, at the very least. There’s no one else you’ve ever been able to do anything like this with, and that’s made a large impact on your love life.

Any attempt at a date with anyone else is a comparison to Ben.

So this week, karaoke. Right.

You sang Maroon 5’s “Payphone”, rather poorly but you kicked major ass at the rap (which no one expected), and you got to sing it while an old flame from freshman year was in the room.

“Whatever happened,” you wonder, “to those plans we made for two? A load of bullcrap.”

~*~*~

The crowd tapers off from the pub around 1 AM, as a pair of girls sing Madonna’s “Like a Prayer” and as your crew decides to venture into the cold drizzle to get late-night pizza. At this point, you’re tipsy, two of your friends are drunk, and the last two of your friends are sober.

The pizza parlor is packed with college students leaving other bars in groups of 5-6 and pack into booths with the steam still rising from slices of pizza. Your crew stands in the front and orders, then moves into a similar booth and get to talking about anything and everything.

And you get to talking about Ben, after talking about a different date you went on that was okay but clearly was no comparison to the boy you know from home.

“He’s just… everything I guess? My person?” your rambling begins.

“I don’t know, he’s just always been one of my good friends, he knows my family, he’s known me forever… If I’m still attracted to him after all his bad hair phases, I think that means something?” You bring up pictures on your phone too, trying to make the point that one you two would be so good looking together, and two he’s just so attractive to you and you absolutely have to show that off to anyone who will listen.

“Like, see?” They do.

The conversation moves forward after that, but you’re stuck. As you always have been.

You’re quiet the rest of the night, your thoughts stuck throughout the car ride back to campus.

As soon as you and your roommate walk through the door to your apartment, you book it to your bathroom; no longer shared after one of your other roommates moved out at the end of last semester.

Drunk you pees, then sits on your phone for five minutes, typing away on a caption for the finsta post you know Ben will have access to, but unsure if he’d ever read it.

i know you can see this and i hope i’m making this obvious enough. because here is where im most open, and if i don’t get it out now im afraid i wont. liquid courage. its you. it has been you since i realized i cant spend three hours with anyone else in a starbucks and get away with it. no one compares to you, and no one will. and i get you probably don’t feel the same. but if i don’t say anything i know ill regret it. youre the person i see when im singing all these dumb fucking love songs, and im sorry. and here i am, i guess. im sorry. ignore this, or maybe tell me what you think. im sorry.

You smash period and enter repeatedly so the block of text isn’t the focus of the finsta feed, and post.

It’s like in “We Bought a Zoo”. Twenty seconds of courage, even if it’s the liquid kind.

~*~*~

The next day sees no response from Ben, and you’re not surprised. He’s not on social media often enough, let alone that he’d actually see your drunk post. But you let it be, because you’re almost afraid to know what his response is.

A week passes by, and still nothing. Your friends are wondering about it too, and you have no updates for them.

And you’re too afraid to text him.

Friday night sees you driving four hours home, and mid-drive it appears.

[@yourfinsta] @bennieandthejones has liked your photo

And then, a text.

I think we need to talk. When are you home again?

Your heart pounds, and before you can think about it, you call him.

Within one ring, he picks up.

“Hello?”

“I’m literally driving home right now. I have a busy day tomorrow, but I can squeeze you in at noon-ish. Lunch?” Your voice shakes a little, but then so does his.

“Um, yeah. Okay. Usual place?”

“Yeah, I think this calls for real food and ice cream.”

“Ok, I’ll see you then. And y/n?”

“Yeah?”

He pauses, hesitant and unsure of what he wants to say.

“Nevermind, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He hangs up, and your heart starts pounding again. That night at home, your sleep is rough but you make it through.

~*~*~

At 12:03, you arrive at the local diner you and Ben frequent when you catch up. He’s already sitting in a booth, wearing a maroon sweater and dark wash jeans. You slide into the bench opposite him.

“Hey.” You greet him.

“Greet” he says in response. An inside joke, a good start you suppose.

“So… I guess I have some explaining to do?” you ask, and he nods.

“It’s just… I want you to know I don’t want to force you into any of this. I was drunk and when I’m drunk, a lot of my feelings come out whether or not they should. And that’s what happened that night. And you’re stuck in this because of that. I’ve had these feelings on and off for years, which is why I never really pursued it. But recently… I felt those feelings really strongly, especially after I ended up on a date and then I realized that all I really wanted was for it to be you, and not this random grad student I went out with.” You take a deep breath.

“Long story short, I think I’ve liked you longer than I actually know. And not telling you was kind of killing me. Please respond.”

Ben looks at you very seriously, closed fists pressed against his chin and elbows propped up on the table. He takes a minute to think, and the minute starts to feel closer to an hour. He starts speaking slowly.

“Did you know”, he questions, “that I started having feelings for you back in high school? You were dating that kid from the high school in the town over, and I remember feeling this immense jealousy because it should have been me. That never went away, and I remember you two breaking up because college was looming and I knew that starting something wasn’t a good idea. I was leaving too, how could I ask you to start something when I was about to leave? And then you ended up going to school far away and I couldn’t ask you to tie yourself to me when there’s so much to experience. I took what I could get, and that was this. For us. I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrows furrow together.

“You have no reason to apologize here, you goof.” You look down at the table, skin flushing slightly. Ben makes his way from his side of the booth to yours and carefully puts one arm around your shoulder, while grasping at your hand with his open one.

“I’m apologizing for not doing this sooner,” he mumbles, gazing at your lips before looking back into your eyes. “Is this okay?”

You nod yes, and verbally confirm.

“I’m good, yeah.” You whisper, leaning in closer towards him. You two are still maintaining eye contact, and your heart is pounding.

He leans in quickly, pressing his lips against yours briefly before pulling away. His lips were softer than you expected, and they were sweet too.

“Still good?” he asks, arm still around you and with no apparent plans to move back to the other side of the booth.

“More than, yeah.” A small smile is on your face, cheeks flushed and slightly bashful. You’ve never been one for PDA, and this was more than enough for you.

“Good. Where does this put us then?”

“Together, I think.”

“I like the sound of that.”

[awol-newt]

another wayhaught fic

it's like marrow without bone (to live in a house with no home) Maybe God is God. Maybe the Devil is me. Well, I'll just throw my chains on. And tell myself that I'm free.   - Delta Spirit, "Salt in the Wound"

“I just wanted to be free.”

Nicole knows that voice. It sends chills down her spine as quickly as it makes her blood boil. She knows that voice because she heard it before she got shot.

A WayHaught fic.

“I just wanted to be free.”

Nicole knows that voice. It sends chills down her spine as quickly as it makes her blood boil. She knows that voice because she heard it before she got shot .

(The first time. Not… not this time?

   Huh.

       Where’s Waverly? Wynonna?

           Where is she ?)

“You’re in purgatory,” the voice tells her and she whirls around in a fury, brown eyes narrowing as she takes in the sight of Willa Earp. And then she takes a moment to take in their surroundings.

It’s the sheriff’s station. Lonnie’s desk is still a mess and Nedley’s office door is propped ajar. Her own desk still has two binders, a stack of case files, and a mountain of paperwork on it. The small AM/FM radio clock flashes like it might after a loss of power.

It’s the sheriff’s station and it’s empty. There’s no Nedley or Lonnie or Dov or Chris. There’s no Nash, either. There’s nobody but Nicole and Willa.

She feels it now. The stillness of the air and the heaviness in her chest that threatens to turn into something like panic. She closes her eyes and counts to twenty, inhaling for five and exhaling for five until she feels calmer. When she opens her eyes, she hopes to see Wynonna and Waverly staring at her like she’s lost her mind; it’d be better than the reality, which is cracking an eye open to see Willa staring at her with an aura of impatience and maybe something like resentment.

“You aren’t dead. Yet,” she says. It’s so blasé, the way those words come out of her mouth and the sigh that follows.

Nicole pales and shakes her head. Shakes away the unnerving feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

“Where are we?” she asks.

Willa rolls her eyes. “I already told you. We’re in purgatory. You know, that annoying place between Down There and Upstairs.”

“Purgatory,” Nicole says again. It isn’t a question this time because she remembers now. Being shot. Again.

Charles Gagnon had marched into the station and pulled a gun on the room, demanding his brother be released from their custody. Henri Gagnon had been arrested the previous night, swerving down Main Street drunker than Wynonna after a shit day. The damned hoser had sideswiped Nicole’s cruiser while she was responding to a 10-71 of suspicious activity at the bank across from Shorty’s. His saving grace was that she hadn’t been in the vehicle when he took off a layer of paint and her side mirror. His downfall was that he panicked, stopped his own car, and tried to make a run for it.

He was caught, of course. She’d marched him down the block to the station, tossed him into the drunk tank, suspended his license, and wrote him a fine. The rest of the night was procedural — dealing with his car and her cruiser, the headache of paperwork that such an incident incurred, and trying not to fall asleep during the last hour of the graveyard shift while she sat at her desk handling said paperwork. Especially since she had to turn around and come back to work that afternoon.

Such is the life of a sheriff’s deputy.

But getting shot — again? That is a hazard of living in Purgatory where just about everybody owns a gun or has access to one. Not to mention the crazies and the supernatural.

Charles Gagnon fell into the former category. A little off his rocker with a short fuse and serious co-dependency issues with his brother. When he began waving the gun around, it was Nicole who stepped forward with her hands raised and her movements as unthreatening as she could make them. She walked slowly towards him, putting herself between Waverly and the madman.

“Let’s just talk this out, Charles,” she had said gently.

She tried to follow the handbook and her police academy training. They’d roleplayed scenarios with gunmen and hostages. And after the situation last year with Wynonna, Shorty, and Champ, she had attended a two-day seminar in the big city with a TAC team. Except none of those things prepared her when he pulled the trigger anyways.

She remembers pushing Waverly to the ground and Wynonna drawing Peacemaker. She remembers falling and another gunshot and then Waverly shouted her name. But then…

Oh.

She fell. The floor was cold and it felt so nice because her shoulder was burning and aching. And then Waverly was there, her Waverly, scrambling to lean over her. Her hands went to Nicole’s shoulder and she pressed. Hard. Nicole screamed. And then…

Then she was here. With Willa freakin’ Earp.

“And she remembers.”

Nicole scowls. “Do you have to be such an asshole? I’m apparently dying and I don’t even know if Waverly and Wynonna are okay!”

Willa’s face softens at the names of her sisters. “They’re fine,” she tells Nicole. “They’re both fine. Wynonna shot the guy who shot you.”

Despite everything that happened following Willa’s return, despite having every reason not to trust her, Nicole believes her. It’s a reassurance that she needs to hear, and it allows her room to consider her current situation more clearly.

“I’m dying,” she murmurs. It’s barely audible but it feels so incredibly loud. Those words. “I’m dying.”

“You’re not dead, yet,” Willa reminds her, gentler this time.

Nicole’s eyes widen.

“I can go back?”

She begins to scan the room, looking for any bright gateway or swirl of lights so she can steadfastly spring in the exact opposite direction. Willa must recognize what she’s doing by her darting eyes.

There’s a sigh and a shake of her head. “It isn’t a choice. This isn’t like on television. It’s out of our control.”

“Is that why you’re still here?”

Nicole blinks and suddenly they’re standing in the Pine Barrens near Purgatory. There’s a heavy layer of snow on the ground and it continues to fall with flurries dusting the evergreens and the branches of the trees that dropped their leaves long ago. It’s quiet and beautiful.

She can’t feel the cold or the wind that rustles the branches and sends them swaying just barely.

“This is my purgatory,” Willa says. “I’ve been here since I crossed the border, since Wynonna…” She trails off, never completing the sentence.

Since Wynonna shot her. Since her sister shot her. Since she made the most foolish mistake of her life. Since she lost everything.

“I just wanted to be free,” she says again, even softer this time.

Nicole recognizes the weight in her voice. Has heard it in her own voice so many times throughout her life. It’s the heaviness of regret, of exhaustion, of sadness, and of defeat. It’s the pull of so many, I’m sorry’s that can never be enough to do what’s been undone.

“Free from Daddy, from the Earp curse, from that godforsaken town. From remembering what I had and what I had lost. Free from having to be anybody but Willa. I just wanted to be free.”

It’s a desperate explanation. It isn’t an apology or imploring for forgiveness. It’s the story of a young girl who had to grow up too fast and be too much too soon, who found pain and darkness in every corner of her world.

Nicole knows something about that. It’s a tale with which she’s very familiar. She isn’t sure she ever really knew what light was until she met Waverly and fell in with Wynonna and got to know Nedley and the rest of the town. Until she found a place that felt like home and people she could call family.

But Willa— Willa never got that chance. To really get free from the machinations of souls older than both of them combined. To find her own light somewhere out there.

She looks at Willa out here, a bright spot of life, morose as she may be, in this vast wilderness and unending white only speckled with forest green and ash gray tree trunks and limbs. And when she blinks again, they’re back in the empty cop shop.

“I wish you’d had the chance to be free without being such a shithead,” Nicole finally says. It isn’t forgiveness but it is understanding and maybe a tinge of sympathy.

Willa laughs. It’s rough and sharp and sounds like it hurts her as much as it disquiets Nicole. “Yeah,” she says. “Except I didn’t have the chance and now I’m here. Waiting for the Universe to decide where I belong or if I’ll never belong anywhere except purgatory.”

“I don’t think anybody belongs nowhere,” Nicole offers, though the optimism sounds uncertain even to her own ears.

Willa shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I have to pay for my sins somehow, right?”

The sadness is clearer now. The despair and defeat that clings to the once heir. It holds tight to her, suffocating like a python’s constriction; each gasp for air brings you a little bit closer to death.

“I’m sorry it wasn’t different.” Nicole means these words.

“Me too.”

It isn’t absolution but it’s something. The grip of sadness loosens just slightly.

There’s a buzz beneath Nicole’s skin. Like the tingling of a limb falling asleep when you sit or sleep funny.

“Do you feel that?” she asks Willa.

And Willa looks at her and cants her head to one side. It’s a Waverly-sort of mannerism, and Nicole feels a sharp tug at her heart.

“The tingling and that chest pain?” she clarifies when Willa doesn’t respond.

The hum of her body grows and grows and it’s starting to become really uncomfortable. It feels kind of like what she imagines being lit on fire might feel like.

“They’re saving you,” Willa finally tells her. “The Universe. My sisters.”

“I’m… I’m not going to die?”

Nicole’s jaw tenses with another lance through her chest.

“You’re not going to die.”

Willa’s voice begins to fade, sounding distant against the blood roaring in her ears. The edges of her vision start to go black as the pain increases exponentially. She hears Willa speak to her one more time and she strains to listen as she squeezes her eyes tight and feels herself begin to fall over.

“Look after them, okay? Tell them that I love them. Both of them.”

And then she wakes up with a jolt, her eyes snapping open to meet the most beautiful hazel eyes she’s ever known.

“Waverly,” she breathes. And it hurts. It hurts and she’s alive.

There’s a steady beeping of machines next to her and her left arm is slinged. Her head is fuzzy and all the lights are soft but she’s alive and Waverly is safe and so is Wynonna and Willa is marginally less awful than she’d thought before she got shot. Again.

“Nicole. You’re awake,” Waverly whispers with a bright smile and tears in her eyes.

“I’m here, Waves,” she says and she can hear her words slur, loosened by whatever drugs they’re pumping through her veins. “I’m alive.”

“You almost died, Nicole. Again. Again! You’re like a cat with nine lives, I swear, Officer Haught.” She pushes from her chair next to Nicole’s bed and paces the length of the small room. She’s exasperated and Nicole can tell she’s a little angry, the emotion warring with the elation that Nicole is awake and alive.

Alive and awake.

“I saw Willa,” she mumbles. “In purgatory. That’s where I went when I was waiting to live or die.”

Waverly slumps back into her seat and reaches for the hand of her not shot-up arm. “What are you talking about, baby?”

She feels the medication even more saliently now. She has to fight against it, the fog that wants to cloud her brain and pull her back under. Part of her is afraid she won’t wake up again.

(It’s going to be a thing, isn’t it?)

What she tries to say is this: “I saw Willa in purgatory. The real limbo, between heaven and hell kind of purgatory. She said she just wanted to be free and I kind of understand that. She wants you to know that she loves you, both you and Wynonna. And she asked me to look after you guys.”

It doesn’t come out that clear and concise but Waverly’s smart and Waverly knows her girlfriend and Waverly knows how to piece together drunken, slurred speech like nobody else. She gets the message and her eyes tear up even more than before.

“She said that?” she asks and the question is so, so soft and scared and hopeful.

Nicole’s head dips in a nod. “She said that.”

Waverly wipes at her eyes and laughs a sad but happy laugh. The words are a lifetime too late but they do mean something. They do begin to patch the hole in her heart that’s been torn through with so much grief and trauma and loss. She laughs again.

“She’s still the worst,” Waverly grumbles.

“Totally the worst.”

Waverly holds tight to Nicole. It’s enough of an anchor and a promise that it feels okay to drift away for just a short while. She’s got Waverly to tether her down so she can float away to dreamland and not fly too far away.

Nicole dreams of falling snow and the smell of evergreens and feels the warmth of a crackling fire in a hearth. She dreams of three little girls with smiles on their faces as they run happy and free.

[slayxwolf]

Scott McCall Imagine- Alpha Affliction

Request: Hey, love your writing. Could you do a Scott McCall fic where Y/n is the leader of a rival pack and there’s tension between them because of it?

Word Count: 2,572

“I could have killed you” you heard from across the school. “But you didn't- not like you could anyway” you scoffed. “For once, could you just admit that you screwed up?” he sighed. “For once, could you just except that you’ve been beaten?” you returned. “Who the hell are you talking to Y/L/N?” coach bellowed, breaking you out of your wolf hearing. “Christ, no need to shout” you whined, holding your head due to how loud he sounded. “Language! Don't make me give you detention on a Monday morning” he yelled, already walking off to go and scold Greenburg, for something petty most likely. You opened your locker door and grabbed your books, you smirked into it after sensing someone familiar. You slammed it shut and the person standing behind it barely waited a second before beginning to grill you. “What on earth were you thinking? I’ll tell you what, you wasn't” he lectured. “Stilinski, I’ve literally just gone through this with McCall” you rolled your eyes. “We both know he has a soft spot for you, but I'm telling you, stop messing with his head!” he warned, using unneeded hand gestures. “No one got hurt!” you stated. “But they could have” he issued. “But they didn't” you growled, letting your eyes flicker red for a brief second. There may have been a slight run in with yours and Scott’s pack that turned a bit sour last night, but it turned out alright in the end. “Someone’s going to get hurt if you carry on the way you are with Scott” he told. “Are you threatening me Stiles?” you asked, smirking with amusement. “No, but I’m warning you. The worst thing you could do is break his heart. You know what happened to him in the past, if you’re looking for a weak spot, pick anything but that” he said, before walking off down the hallway. You stood there for a second and dropped your head, knowing exactly what he was talking about, though it was never your intention to capitalise on his loss.

Things weren't always like this. You didn't ask to be an alpha and by no means did you intentionally kill someone for it. You belonged to your older sister’s pack, and things were so much simpler back then. When the Darach showered up, she needed to get your pack out of the way, because your sister was too close to revealing Jennifer Blake for what she was. Most of you died, but you managed to survive. You had to stand and watch as the members of your pack screamed in agony at the wolfs bane that slowly made its way around their bloodstreams. You knelt beside your sister, it was the only time you had seen her cry or show any vulnerability. You took as much of her pain as you could, but there was no hope. You closed your eyes and allowed your sobs to be muffled by your hand that covered your mouth. “Please sis- It hurts” she begged. “I cant” you said, shaking your head as tears rolled down your cheeks. “Please” she begged once more. You couldn't watch her struggle for breath, when she had been so powerful in life. The one person you didn't want to lose- was now begging for you to end her life. You cradled her motionless body in your arms, feeling the pain she felt. “I'm sorry” you whispered, before taking the life of the person you loved the most in one brisk movement. You screamed and sobbed for hours afterwards, until the remaining pack members had to pry you off of her body. You hated your red eyes, but hated the blue that hid under them even more. You lost more than a sister that day. But you couldn't grieve forever, with your remaining strength you held the pack together until it grew in size and power. However, what happened that day changed you and you weren't sure it was for the better.

“I’ll see you later” you said to one of your pack members, before you went your separate ways. You checked the time on your phone, it was 9pm and you had only just left school. Long story short, you had been on alpha duty all day, trying to prevent your pack from killing Scott’s. You even had to stay and wait for Lacrosse practice to finish, because of a few of them being on the same team as the others. You put your phone in your back pocket and crossed your arms, before finally heading home. You walked for about ten minutes until you let out a loud sigh in frustration. “Are you still not done following me Scott?” you shouted, proceeding to walk. All of a sudden you felt someone next to you. “How did you know?” he asked, in both curiously and embarrassment. You simply glowed your eyes red at him, “Oh right” he mumbled as your eyes faded back to their usual colour. “So are you going to tell me why you’re stalking me?” you asked, tilting your head. “I wouldn't call it stalking” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m pretty sure that's what the Sheriffs Department would call it, oh wait it doesn't actually matter, I'm sure your father in law will let you off with it” you said incredibly sarcastically. “How many times do I have to tell you? Stiles is not my overprotective boyfriend!” he raised his voice, meaning it echoed through the empty streets. You stared at him, trying to keep a straight face. It didn't last long until you both burst out laughing. “Woah, has the ice queen melted?” he asked, referring to how he’d only ever seen you scoff after becoming an alpha. “Not quite” you said shortly, as both of your laughs came to a stop. “No seriously though, why are you following me?” you questioned, killing the somewhat friendly mood. “And there she is” he mumbled. You simply raised your eyebrows, waiting for an answer. “Stiles thinks you’re up to something and I came to find out what” he accidently told. “Figures it would be him, he hates me” you complained. “Why would you think that?” he asked, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. You just gave him a blank expression, followed by an eye roll, Stiles made his dislike pretty obvious. “I'm sure if he got to know you more, he’d change his mind” he tried to convince. “I’ve known you all for most of my life" you returned. “I mean if they got to know the new you, you’ve been different since-” he tried to sympathise. “Don't try to understand Scott, you have no idea what it's like” you claimed, stopping still. “My first love died in my arms, because I dragged everyone into the supernatural word. Allison died because of me” he also stopped and raised his voice, in built up emotion rather than anger. “I had to kill my own sister Scott, it isn't a competition of who’s life is the shittest!” you matched his volume. “But look at yourself, you're too busy hating the world for what its done to you, that you didn't realise, and still don't realise that all we’ve ever tried to do is help you” he ranted. “I have no one Scott. All I had was her and when she died, she took a part of me, a part I’ll never get back- and no one was truly there for me when I was hurting, I still am hurting. So forgive me, for not being the optimistic idiot I used to be” you retort. “You pushed us away, we couldn't help someone that didn't want to be helped. Look, I'm sorry about your sister- but you cant carry on like this” he spoke a lot softer. “Carry on like what Scott?” your volume remained loud and aggressive. “You cant carry on being a temperamental psycho- like a ticking time-bomb” he regretted saying it, the second he finished speaking. “Watch me” you replied laconically, pushing past him before he saw the tears that welled up in your eyes.

“I'm going to kill him” you growled, eyes glowing. “Who?” one of your pack members asked, slightly amused. You paced back and forth, In the apartment building that you shared with most of your pack. “Scott fucking McCall” you claimed, through gritted teeth. “Do it” another spoke, biting into an apple. “No one is killing anyone” another stated rationally. “What did he even do?” someone asked. You stopped still for a second and actually thought about it, putting your anger aside. You thought about the past, you remembered everything that had faded from your memory, due to your hatred and hurt clouding your vision. Scott watched one of his closest friends change into a dark and manipulative Alpha. He knew you were just trying to protect and build a pack, but he knew that you were losing yourself along the way. You remember ignoring Stiles’ calls, skipping lunches with Lydia, pretending not to see Allison in the street and you remembered telling Scott that you never wanted to speak to him again. You remembered telling Stiles that you weren't interested in his dumb plans anymore, telling Lydia that you didn't care about her pointless guy stories, telling Allison that you needed time for yourself. You did push them away. You were hurting, but you were also hurting them. It was too late to apologise to Allison, to tell her that you needed her or to say goodbye- but it wasn't too late for the others. “Omg” you mumbled, at your sudden realisation. “What?” one of your member’s asked. “Excuse me” you simply replied, pushing past them and through the front door.

You stretched out your knuckles, as though you were going to knock on the door but then quickly moved your hand away again. You had been pacing back and forth outside of Scott’s house for about ten minutes. You just didn't quite know what you were going to say, or why you were even there. You then decided to live by the 5 second life rule, so you quickly knocked on the door and waited nervously for what was next. When you didn't receive a response, you figured it was late and he may have been asleep or with his pack. You placed your weight on the door to focus your hearing on his house, just to check if he was ignoring you. That was when the door swung open and you fell into his house. “Ouch” you mumbled. You looked, expecting to see Scott with a confused expression on his face, when you were met with nothing. Why would Scott leave his door unlocked? You stood up and brushed yourself off, before slowly walking around his house. You figured you might as well wait for him, considering you were already there and all. You reminisced, looking at the house that was once familiar to you. You stood in the doorframe of his kitchen, when you heard a heartbeat approach the front door. They stopped, before hesitantly pushing the door open. You were met by Scott, his eyes glowing red and his fangs retracted. You simply flicked the light switch on and smirked to yourself. “What the hell Y/n?” he asked in surprise, his face returning to normal. “Hey Scotty” you smiled, it was what you used to call him when you were younger. He looked at you hesitantly, not sure if you were plotting your revenge from your altercation earlier. “God Scott, don't look so on edge” you sighed. He threw his motorbike key on the side of the couch and took his jacket off. “What can I help you with?” he asked, uncertain. “I just wanted to say that I'm sorry” you said reluctantly, but honestly. Scott flashed a non-intentional smile, with a hint of smug creeping across his face. “I accept your apology” he simply returned. “What? Just like that?” you asked, not sure as to what the catch was. “Y/n, I’ve always been here for you and I always will. I was just waiting for you to finally realise that” he spoke softly, taking a step closer to you. You stood up, no longer leaning your weight against the doorframe. “I shouldn't have treated you all like shit, especially not you” you dropped your head. Scott delicately brought your head back up. “It’s okay to be hurt Y/n, but you need your friends. Lydia, Stiles-” he began to list off. “You” you finished for him, staring into his eyes. “Yeah-” he simply whispered, and with that he leant down and pressed his lips to yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him tightly against you. You were now leaning back against the doorframe, as he deepened the kiss and hoisted you up. You were that lost in the moment, that neither of you heard the front door open. 

“Finally” Lydia accidently praised out loud, immediately covering her mouth afterwards. You and Scott slowly broke away, smiling at one another. You then both proceeded to turn to look at the full living room, both giving a small laugh of embarrassment. “That was hot” Malia approved. You looked at them all awkwardly, it was the first time in a while that you had been together with everyone like this. As much as you had neglected them, Lydia, Kira, Malia and Liam stood smiling at the thought of you being back where you belonged. You then glanced behind them, seeing Stiles with a straight look on his face. Your face dropped as he approached the two of you slowly. “We're having our weekly pack pizza party, would you be interested in joining us?” he asked with a genuine smile on his face. You relaxed and returned it, pulling him into a long awaited hug. “I’ll take that as a yes” he laughed brightly, issuing to Lydia who was about to order them. She didn't even have to ask for your order, it was as if you had never left them. Your friends then continued to start setting up the movie, drinks, blankets and snacks for you all. You walked over to Scott, with a sweet smile formed on your lips. He put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close to him. “I missed this” you breathed. “We missed you” he replied, kissing you on your forehead. Although some of the members had changed, the friendship and love that kept you all together was still the same. You wanted to protect your pack, but it was time to put yourself first for once too. No more fighting, no more rivalry. It was time to focus on the new chapter in your life, which had a much brighter outcome. 

Requests are open loves x

[blahblahblippyblah]

Magnus Chase and a Plotless Hogwarts Fanfiction

Chapter 7: Learning to be an Animagus

full story: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11429727/chapters/25899828

Alex tries to teach Magnus to be an animagus. Fluff.

Yes I know the spelling is terrible. I'm too lazy to go through to correct it. Also when I transfer from my phone to my computer it sometimes doubles paragraphs or sentences.

It was late Friday night as Magnus patrolled the 12th floor corridor. Magnus enjoyed being on duty at night. When he went to do his rounds around the castle to make sure no students were sneaking out of their dormitories he got to explore. There is no better time to explore and discover the secrets of Hogwarts than 2am. Magnus got to the end of the hall and pulled back a tapestry. He found what he was looking for. A new passageway of stone stairs. He wondered were this one went. He raised his wand so that the light from it illuminated the floor better and began climbing up the stairs. After about 200 steps he found himself down a weird corridor. He followed it and then found himself facing a tiny wooden door. He reached out and opened it. He found himself now at the top floor of the astronomy tower.

The moon was shinning in through the open windows. Magnus felt a slight breeze as he stepped into the tower. Magnus. In the window sat a black cat. When he walked in it turned its head. One eye glowed a bright yellow tinted brown the other glowed a deep dark brown. It watched him for a sec then turned to stare down at the grounds. He walked over to the window sill and gazed up at the moon and the starts in the clear inky black sky. The cat moved it's gave to the moon. He became lost in thought. Exactly a year ago he was staring up at his sky from a ratty sleeping bag in the middle of a deserted alley. If only last Magnus knew where he would be now. He stood there staring at the sky for a bit then signed and decided it was probably time to head back to his office. As he turned to walk away the cat shifted and jumped down onto the floor. As it fell down it glowed and transformed into the shape of a person. He shrieked out unmanly in fright.

"Calm down beantown. It's just me" Alex said laughing at Magnus look of shock.

"Wait your an animagus?" Magnus said looking confused.

"Ya I told you I dedicated my life to tranfiguration. Seems fitting that I also learn to change species since I change genders."

Magnus started up in shock at Alex. The dude was super impressive. Magnus had only met 1 other animagus before and that was Sam. Whe he first saw Sam in Lion form he had almost wet his pants. He also knew it wasn't an easy thing to learn and most wizards couldn't even fathom doing it.

"That's so cool. How long did I take you to learn to become a cat?" Magnus asked.

"Hmmmmm" Alex pondered. "It took me 3 years to learn the cat. I started in my 6th year at Hogwarts. The it took about a year to learn transforming into a Weasel. But after that I got the hang of it and it would only take about half a year each with lots of hard work."

Magnus's jaw dropped. "Wait you can transform into more than 1 animal?"

"Ya. First multi species animagus ever. I am up to 12 species so far. Registration with the ministry is a pain tho, because of me they had to invent another section on the forms" Alex explained as he jumped up to sit on the window sill.

"So what other animals can you turn into?" Magnus asked now super interested.

"The horsefly is my favourite. But being a cat is the easiest for sneaking around the castle. The grizzly bear is always a student favourite." Alex went on.

"Omg you my friend are the most impressive person I have ever met. That is literrraly the coolest thing ever." Magnus said walking over the the window to sit down as well.

Alex smiled and Magnus was pretty sure he saw him blush. It was hard to tell though since Alex's face was obscured in shawdows.

"so how hard is it? Would you be able to per say teach someone?" Magnus asked.

Alex tinted his head to Magnus and raised an eyebrow.

"You want to learn to be an animagus?"he asked.

"Well ya. If always wanted to be. I think it would definitely help out with taking care of magical creatures. Maybe I can be something big and scary like an elephant." Magnus said smiling.

Alex rolled his head back and laughed. "Well I can try and teach you. But it's the hardest thing your tiny brain will ever try to do." Alex joked, yet she still had a hint of seriousness.

"Would this be a bad time to mention I've never even been able to transfigure a pocket watch?" Magnus said.

"So your saying I'm going to have my work cut out for me. Well i guess it can't be any harder than teaching first years to sit still for 5 minutes." Alex said. And smiled at him. His eyes shinning in the residual moonlight.

Magnus smiled back. He could feel butterflies creeping into his throat making him want to choke or vomit as his stomach twisted uncomfortable to deal with their flapping. He had a feeling he was quickly falling for Alex. That meant trouble. He thought after Halloween when he realized what was happening he would be able to convince himself to not stare or think of Alex in that way, but every time they hung out together he fell deeper. Being alone with only Alex was even worse.

He was brought back to reality when Alex snapped his fingers in his face.

"Your're staring again? Are you Ok?" He asked punching his playfully on the arm.

Magnus shook his head. "Ya sorry."

"Anyway if your serious about learning come to my office Saturday after lunch. Well start this week." Alex said jumping down from the window sill.

"Sounds great' Magnus said.

"See you then" Alex said and waved. She turned towards the sort and slipped through it as a black cat.

*

A piece of chalk flew across the room and nailed Magnus between the eyes.

"Ow!" He exclaimed.

"Your not concentrating hard enough! I know it's hard for you to use your brain but you can at least try" Alex said his voice slightly raised.

"I am!" Magnus said back. He was starting to regret asking Alex to teach him how to be an animagus. The guy had no patience. In Magnuses defense he was trying really hard. He was concentrating hard than he ever had before. He could feel his face start turning red since he was focusing so hard he forgot to breath. Still he couldn't even manage to transfigure his ears.

He had been coming to Alex's office every 3rd night for the past 2 months. She was working him like a dog. Sometimes he didn't leave until late at night. Completely exhausted. Mentally and physically.

"Well your not focusing on the right thing then. When you close your eyes you need to see in your mind what you want to become then u need to feel it. What animal are you imagining?" Alex asked.

"I am trying to imagine a horse. But I can't see the details. I mean how am I suppose to know what I would look like as a horse." Magnus said frustrated.

"Ok let's just focus on one part then. Let's start with the tail. Your blonde so let's assume your tail would be blonde as well." Alex said as she walked over to Magnus in the middle of the room.

"Now feel where your tail would be imagine it and how it would feel to have a tail." Alex said as he sat on a desk in front of Magnus.

Magnus scrunched up his face and tightly closed his eyes. He tried his very best to imagine a tail coming out of the base of his spine. He tried to image the swishing a horses tail would do and how his would feel. Yet he felt nothing he couldn't imagine it. 'Come on Magnus. Feel the tail. Be the tail' He thought to himself. He found his mind wandering. Instead of a long swishy tail he felt that his tail was more stiff. It curled up instead and waved back and forth as he walked. It's hair was short and golden. Way softer than any horse tail. The fur was thick and warm. He shook his head and opened his eyes. Gods he was hopeless.

"I'm sorry Alex. Maybe I'm not cut out for this. I can't focus. My mind can't seem to stick on one thing long enough" he said defeated.

Magnus turned to walk to the chair when Alex let out a surprised gasp. Magnus Magnus turned to walk to the chair when Alex let out a surprised gasp. Magnus turned back to him wondering what he was now pointing at. He was surprised to see he was pointing at him. He looked down. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"What?" Magnus asked somewhat alarmed at the look on Alex's face. Alex just jumped down from the desk and ran over to him. Alex grabbed behind Magnus and spun him around. He reached out and Magnus felt something weird. Alex gently touched his tail. Magnus cranked his neck to see Alex running his hands through his thick furry tail that has sprouted from the base of his spine. It was golden in colour and about the same length of his arm.

"Omg I have a tail" Magnus exclaimed as Alex let go of it and started at it impressed.

"It would appear that your mind doesn't see you as a horse. Looks more like a dog tail... interesting." Alex said tapping his chin.

Magnus reached back and grabbed his tail. It was as real as his other body parts. Alex reached out again and started petting his tail. Magnus felt an electric current travel up his tail and then up his spine to the back of his neck. It flushed his face and caused him to blush. He felt embarrassed about the blushing but it was really distracting having Alex touch his tail.

"Its so soft" Alex said letting it go.

Magnus grabbed at it and held it against himself. It was so weird yet so cool. Then another thought came to mind.

"How do make it go away? I'm pretty sure Mallory would never let me live it down if I showed up to breakfast with a tail"

"Well essentially do the same thing you did to make it appear. Imagine yourself without the tail"

Magnus frowned. Now that he had the tail it was a little difficult to imagine it gone. He scrunched his face up again and tried his hardest. When he opened his eyes the tail was gone.

"I did it!" Magnus said super excited he reached over and hugged Alex forgetting about the fact Alex might hex him for it.

Thankfully he didn't. He hugged Magnus back. Magnuses stomached did a few back flips inside him.

"Your the best teacher ever" Magnus said as Alex broke up the hug.

"I know" Alex said. "I bet we could have you turning into whatever it is you transfigure into by Christmas."

"You think?" Magnus asked.

" Ya your a quick learner. Anyway it's not that late but I think we can call it a day. Wanna go get some coffee with me?" Alex asked.

"Sure" Magnus said. He followed Alex out of his classroom.

*

Alex and Magnus headed to the staff room and Alex put on a pot of coffee on the fire. He then crashed beside Magnus on the couch. He slung one arm around his shoulder and laid back into the cushions looking completely relaxed. The butterflies came back to Magnuses stomach.

" So ummm...what's new with you?" Magnus asked not knowing what to say.

Him and Alex usually hung out and talked all the time but he was having trouble coming up with something interesting to say whole Alex had his arm around his shoulder. He smelled like wet earth and clay with a hint of sandalwood.

"Nothing really. I helped Sam pick out a crib the other day. She said I can come to her next appointment. Amir wants her to go to a muggle doctor. Apparently the muggles have a way to take a picture of a baby while it's still in the womb."

"Cool. I bet your gonna be the best aunt and uncle ever."

Alex laughed. "That baby is also going to be the most spoiled kid in the world. Blitz has already made the kid enough fancy outfits so That it never has to wear the same thing twice for the next 2 years. Mallory has already started saving to get it's first broom and Hearth and Halfborn won't stop reading up on how to change diapers and stuff like that. I caught them both practicing on a cat together.

Magnus laughed. He too was guilty of secretly reading up on baby care with Hearth whiel Blitz sat at his sewing machine making baby clothes. Plus he was way better than Hearth. He could change a diaper in less than 30 seconds now. Hearth still couldn't figure out where to tuck and pin.

"Its definitely going to be the most lived baby ever" Magnus agreed.

Alex smiled in agreement. They sat watching the fire for a bit. He only extracted his arm from around Magnus when the kettle was done. He poured them 2 coffees and handed one to Magnus. Magnus slurped his coffee noisily.

"Hey Alex. Thanks again for teaching me. I really appreciate it." Magnus said.

"Hey no problem. I kinda like spending the extra alone time with you. Plus you look really cute with a tail" he said sipping his coffee. Magnus's stomach do a flip again.

" Oh do I Now?" He tried his best to joke. "I wonder why a dog though? Is it usual to not be able to choose the animals?"

Alex made a sideways smile and pondered for a bit. "Hmmm not always. I mean lots of wizards choose, but sometimes your personality is too much of you so there's not much you can do. You seem pretty confident I who you are so maybe that's why. I think the reason I can do so many animals by choice is because I'm never stable with whole am. I kinda transition more than just my gender. But also my personality and confidence. Also that brand of magic isn't very well know."

Magnus just nodded. "I kinda wish it wasn't a dog. The night my mother died, The fire that killed her. It was started by some werewolves. A gang I guess. I don't know why they wanted to kill us. But since then I haven't been very fond of dogs." Magnus said.

Alex just frowned at him sympathetically. He didn't say anything tho. Something Magnus appreciated about him. He hated when people gave him the old 'oh I'm so sorry for you' speech.

Alex just put his arm back around him shoulders and pulled him closer. Magnus slipped on arm around Alex's back. The contact made him feel closer to his friend, and a little more comfortable.

"If I have learned one thing it's that you don't get to choose who you are." Alex said eyes staying fixed on the fire. "We just have to learn to accept and live ourselves the way we are. If we don't we will never grow as people and never learn."

Magnus nodded and Alex leaned his head against his shoulder. His green hair tickled Magnus's ears and cheek. This time he didn't try and fight the butterflies. They sat like that all night watching the fire. At some point they must have fallen asleep because Magnus woke up the next morning in the same position. As he stirred so did Alex. The rising sun bathed the staff room in orange light. Alex didn't say anything about falling asleep together but she broke the silence by suggesting they head down to get breakfast.

[hopecannotbefalse]

make this chaos count || sanvers

Summary: 

“You’ve never been the enemy, Danvers.”

Neither friends nor enemies: it was different than that, they were more than that. 

aka the leverage!au

Meeting Maggie Sawyer was the moment for Alex Danvers. Place a trademark on it and move on. She had plenty of powerful moments in her life (losing her father and mother, gaining her sister, almost dying, blowing up her apartment and everything material she loved), but they didn’t change her in the way meeting Maggie Sawyer did.

the momenttm

Alex didn’t speak as she sat next to the now ex-lieutenant. A quick finger lift to the bartender and within a minute her drink was in front of her.

Well, this is different. Maggie’s fingers itched to grab for the handcuffs that were no longer attached to her belt. What a catch Alex Danvers could have been—maybe enough to save her career. No, nothing would of kept CADMUS from fucking her over at the end. (Although Maggie didn’t know if she’d even be able to bring Alex in if the opportunity arose. Luckily, the thief was always a step ahead of her.)

“Gloating isn’t a flattering look.”

“I’m here as a friend.” Alex turned to face her, her fingers giving away her nervousness as they tapped at the glass. They hadn’t gotten to sit down and drink together since they had just first met: years had come and gone, priorities shifted, they had both changed. The biggest change was now, Alex didn’t have to make sure the woman wouldn’t arrest her.

“Friend?” Maggie scoffed as she downed another shot. This isn’t a moment for the flirty banter that usually arose between them.

“Mhmm, the enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Alex drew her drink closer to her lips as she spoke, only taking a long drink once she was finished. They had never been friends, never been enemies; always somewhere stuck in between. “I think we’re on the same side now.”

How did she get here? This was the situation of her nightmares (or certain dreams including Danvers). She had lost her job; no, she was fired from her job. There was no argument, no discussion—she had gotten too close to something and her whole life was ripped away. She had always wanted to be a cop, always wanted to help people. Now, in what should have been her pivotal moment, she had been disgraced just for that action. “I’m really not in the mood.”

“I’m not here... I know you, Sawyers. I could use someone like you. I know what we could do together.”

“Yeah, and what would that be?”

“Take down CADMUS.”

How the fuck did she get here?

“We are on the same side now, Maggie.” Alex’s voice was softer than it was before. It echoed the night in Chicago when they had flirted in the bar, before all of this, before of what they had become. Now was her rock bottom. It was the only reason she even considered Alex’s proposal.

“Can I trust you?” No, she wasn’t worried about the mission or risking her values—she didn’t know if this faux-relationship between them was something that could sustain them fully. For all she knew about Alex, she didn’t know much at all. It had always been that way. Alex would give her just enough to help or flirt but never enough to show her any truth behind the woman. Whiskey burned at the back of her throat as she took another long drink.

“Can I trust you?” Alex retorted; her nose crinkled, fear hiding behind the confidence that she portrayed. Alex had more to lose if this went poorly—she was offering Maggie an open door, a hand into her life. Something she hadn’t offered anyone else before, an offer she wouldn’t make again. “Maybe not, but it’d be a lot more fun if we tried.”

What the fuck happened?

Alex Danvers planned every moment. Every single moment, every move was manipulated to suit their needs. Ever since she was 16 years old, Alex was ready to go. Ever since her parents were killed, she was responsible. Mistakes had been made, but she had learned from them. She had to protect Kara. Through different foster homes, Alex had always been the constant for Kara.  Until she was 18, then she did what she needed to do to protect her little sister (and Winn, just a years later).

Alex became what she was to protect them. She knew she had to be a step ahead; she had Plan A – Z outlined twice over before she made a move. To be fair, some were bad plans, plans that would end with more destruction than she liked. Some ended with death and she never told Kara about those plans. Those plans stayed strategically in the back of her mind just in case. Luckily, “just in case” had only happened once.

All her plans, all her preparation couldn’t help her when she heard Maggie Sawyer had been fired.

All plans and secrecy were gone. The reward could be worth the risk.

           big sis <3 : don’t do anything stupid, i’m bringing someone home.

           kara: WHAT?!

“I shouldn’t be surprised that you work above this bar.”

“Live there too.”

The apartment is more of a loft than anything else. The simple layout would have screamed Alex. The exposed brick accented the character of the place enough to make it warm instead of dark. A metal spiraling stairway led up to what must be the living space. It was expensive and nothing Maggie could ever dream of affording. Parts of the apartment didn’t match—the oversized love seat that was filled with light colored pillows, the painting easel set against the wall near an impressively sized window, a large cork board and corresponding white board. It’s slightly larger than she would have expected, but the majority of the floor was taken up by an oversized bar that had been converted into some geek heaven. The main wall was filled with multiple monitors that made up a larger image.

Perhaps she should of given Kara more than a 5 minutes heads up. The room was scattered around when they walked in further.

It was obvious someone had done a quick clean up of the place. The white board was streaked with marker and the cork board had bits of paper still attached to pins—like someone had ripped the papers off in a hurry.

“What did I say about not doing anything stupid?”

The first person out came from behind the desk with a shove. “Kara!” The man yelped as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Maggie swore she could hear something about bulletproof under his breathe as he kicked against the desk out of spite. She recognized the man—he worked with Alex, he had been the one that had almost blown up the chief of police in Gotham.

“You said that before you brought Lord to the last place.” The next person appeared beside Winn within an instant. The woman stood cross-armed, looking a mixture between cross and worry.

Alex rubs her fingers over her forehead while she shakes her head; that wasn’t not something she liked to remember. “Everyone, this is Maggie,” Alex moved unnecessarily. “Maggie, this is everyone. Winn,” Alex points out as Winn looks at Maggie with the most pathetic doe-eyed gaze. Alex would definitely need to watch him. He at least had the decency to try to put on a neutral face once he caught her glare. “And Kara.”

“The sister,” Maggie smiled, she hadn’t recognized her.

Kara glares at her as if she could throw her into the sun if she said the wrong thing. Okay, maybe, shooting someone’s sister was a bad introduction. “I’ve heard all about you.”

“Kara,” Alex drawled out her name out like a warning. “Play nice.”

“Are we being arrested?” Winn asked before Alex snagged the tablet out of his hands, earning her Winn’s attention once again.

“Pull up our CADMUS file.”

“Alex,” both voices call out and Maggie almost smiled at the terrified look on both of their faces.

“Pull up the file,” Alex repeats the command, handing the tablet back over the table to Winn. There was no way she could do the task at hand—that was Winn’s job. The words were softer the second time; trust me was etched into her tone. It takes a few more moments before Winn even looked at the device in his hands. (Maggie has to remind herself that this is the same kid that blew up their last loft to get away from the PD. Yeah, that story was infamous.)

“CADMUS, aka the dark side.”

“I’m regretting that movie marathon now,” Alex murmured as she crossed the short floor to grab at a bottle of whiskey. They all gravitated towards the center of the room—Maggie fleetingly felt out of place as she moved to lean against the table. Alex’s eyes flicked quickly to her and then back to the screens ahead of them. Maybe this was a bad idea.

(Plans H-Z all ended poorly, yet Alex still took the risk.)

An hour later and Maggie knows more about CADMUS than the government would ever desire. She should have been able to detect it was Lillian Luthor behind the entire debacle. The details would need to be repeated, but the gist was clear. CADMUS had a hand in the local police department and Maggie had gotten too close with her investigations of the disappearances of the alien population. Winn had pulled all the information he could from Maggie’s devices before destroying them.

“What the hell kind of phone is this?” Winn had scoffed as he had plucked the phone from Maggie’s hands. “No, you can’t use anything like this anymore. Here, take this.”

Alex watched Maggie closely; they were exposed and she was unsure. Being unsure wasn’t part of the plan—she had to be sure. It was her job to know everything, to be one step ahead of everyone, yet with Maggie she was taking a risk. One that even glares from Kara underestimated. (Just to be safe, Alex had Winn make sure their failsafe was ready.) The night was more serious than any of the previous meetings and it had left with Kara leaving through the front door instead of the window. No, they couldn’t trust Maggie with that quite yet. Kara’s life was not negotiable.

“Your team is not nearly as frightening as everyone says, Danvers,” Maggie scoffed as she took her own seat at the table. The last few hours had exhausted her. It was only 2 days since she had been fired and now she was what… a criminal? “Especially Winn, you should hear the stories they tell about him.”

Alex leans against the wall, just enough respectable distance between the two of them. The stand would be confident to anyone else, but not to Maggie, she can see past it. It’s uncertain and vulnerable. “Winn’s a craigslist find; had to adopt and get out of a bad home,” Alex joked.

“The academy doesn’t teach you anything about being recruited by criminals after termination. Although, considering, they probably should.”

“Do you know what you’re getting into?”

Any sense of small talk was gone. Maybe it was the alcohol clouding Alex’s judgment, but she couldn’t be okay without the uncertainty.

“You’ve never been the enemy, Danvers.”

Neither friends nor enemies: it was different than that, more than that. Maggie swears she can see a slight grin on Alex’s face through the dim lighted room. The sunlight had disappeared during the briefing and they hadn’t bothered to adjust the lighting. First it had been the monitors projecting light upon their research, but now it would feel wrong to turn on more lights. Muted light encouraged the soft, vulnerable atmosphere between them; it reminded them of all the nights they’d met before.

“I know who I need to be,” Alex disclosed. If they were the bad guys, so be it. Alex’s loyalties didn’t lie on the side of right or wrong. “But after this is over, even if it goes to plan, I can’t promise your job back.”

Even with her planning and connections, Alex didn’t know if she’d be able to swing for Maggie’s position back in the department. Plans like this didn’t go down clean—there were always messes. Taking down CADMUS meant risk: identities being exposed, money lost, reputations ruined, lives lost. Kara and Winn knew the risks and what they may lose. They had been with Alex during the development phase; they had encouraged the mission. It wasn’t just a job; this one was personal.  

“Better than the alternative,” Maggie’s eyebrow arched when she smiled slightly. “Besides, I already told you… you’ve not the bad guys here.”

“You’ve always been the good guy,” Alex smiled, honest to God smiled and yeah, any reservations slipped away. “It’s made it fun.”

It was late and they were tired, but Maggie couldn’t stop thinking how mesmerizing Alex looked. The window shades were cracked and the moonlight hit against the floor—her view of Alex was limited, more shadows sketched over her features than anything. The light was overrated—the darkness didn’t look so grave with a sight like Alex Danvers in it.

“Running on the rooftops of Gotham.”

Oh, Gotham. Darkness had been entrancing there as well. (Maybe it had been Alex after all that was the one that changed the darkness for Maggie) “Geez, imagine us as partners.”

“What about now?” Alex asked. The smile had slipped from her lips; Maggie only wished it had been there longer. Partners with Alex Danvers: who would have seen the day?

“I don’t know.” It was honest and late and maybe they had drunk a little too much. She cleared her throat before pressing the home button of her new phone. “It’s after midnight.”

“It’s always after midnight with us.”

“I meant it’s getting late. I think I need to go home and lose my cool for a little bit.” Too close for comfort was a bit of an understatement. Whatever this was with Alex deserved more than this. Alex wasn’t someone to give into for simple comfort in the midst of her darkest moments. No, whatever they had been deserved to have a better story than this one. Not now.

“Oh, right, you probably shouldn’t go back to your apartment though.” Right, CADMUS probably still wasn’t too happy with her. “Winn ran a check and there are some officers outside watching your place. I’ll send Kara over to get any essentials tomorrow.”

Wasn’t that fucking fantastic. She wondered if they sent over Miller or Scott over to stake her out. Those losers were probably dying for the chance. “Guess I’ll go find a motel.”

“You can stay here. I mean… there’s an extra bedroom that Winn usually crashes in.”

“I do need someone to go back there tonight though,” Maggie mentioned. “Is your apartment dog friendly?”

Ford wasn’t at all what Alex expected.

A heap of loving golden retriever met her at breakfast the next morning. It wasn’t remotely the type of dog Alex had imagined Maggie to have. He was full of hair and absolutely gorgeous, who wasn’t a sucker for a grey-faced golden retriever?

Kara is going to love him.

They had never had a pet—neither had Winn. Growing up like they had, they couldn’t have pets. It would have slowed them down, kept them from doing their job fully. (Alex couldn’t imagine what would of happened if Ford was with them during the debacle in Gotham.) As soon as he had said his hello to her, Ford had moved towards the door, tail wagging faster after a few moments. Within seconds, Kara and Winn were through the door.

“Ford!” Kara squealed in delight as she saw him. She dropped to her knees slightly too hard as she buried her fingers into his fur. Kara had brought him back from Maggie’s apartment the previous night.

“What a traitor.”

Alex hadn’t realized Maggie had snuck behind her, a smile pulled at her lips. Even Maggie couldn’t be upset with the actions of her dog. Ford was old—her parents had told her he was depressed without her around. He had been a part of her life since she was teenager. He had finally calmed down enough by eight to be a comfortable apartment dog. Now at thirteen, Maggie couldn’t imagine not having him with her. 2 cities, 3 ex-girlfriends and countless sleepless nights had only cemented the bond between the two of them. Yet, here with Kara, he was absolutely enamored. “I think he’s fallen in love.”

“Everyone loves Kara,” Alex reasoned; there was no reason to believe the dog wouldn’t fall in love with Kara. Animals had always been drawn to the alien. Back when they were growing up, Alex thought of it like another superpower—her little sister was practically a Disney princess anyway. Animals circling around her head like a halo were just a part of the package.

“Still a traitor.”

Winn’s cough interrupted all of them. A disgusted look was plastered on his face as he had skirted around Ford and Kara’s reintroduction. “Can we please stop with the love fest? I got things to do.”

“Like what? Standing out in the rain all night for a video game?” Alex teased as she stole one last glance at Maggie and her smile—oh goodness.

Winn mocked shock with a hand to his heart. “That’s rude. You don’t have to be rude.”

Maggie still skirted around the background as they all settled into their spots. Winn pulled up the information on the screen and Kara had, god dammit, found a way to fit the large golden retriever into her lap as she sat cross-legged on the floor. It was going to become a problem eventually, but Alex didn’t have the effort to care.

“So what do we do? How are we going to go after Luthor?”

Three sets of eyes were on her: each had their own glint of disbelief in them. “Oh no, we are not going after Luthor yet. What are you crazy? We’d be shot down within minutes even with—ouch!” Winn yelped at the sudden elbow in his side. He cringed at the next warning poke into his side by Alex. Eventually they would need to tell Maggie about Kara, but for right now they needed to test her.

“What Winn was trying to say was we can’t just go after her. That would be a suicide mission. We don’t work like that. No, we have to start small. Gain more information before we can even start to draw out a plan how to take her down. CADMUS had ties into a lot more than we even know—they got you fired for just even looking into the disappearances,” Alex’s voice was strong an confident as she stared at the monitors.

Maggie could do slow; she didn’t want to, but she knew how to play the long game. They were right, CADMUS had more involvement than she even realized. Taking away the head of the organization may be self-rewarding, but it wouldn’t take down the organization. That had to be the goal, not revenge.

“We need information.” Even Winn didn’t have the knowledge on CADMUS that they would need to move forward.

“Winn,” Alex ordered.

He shot a quick glance over to Kara’s position on the floor before pulling up something on his tablet and flicking his wrist for it onto the monitors. “Got it,” he mumbled as he awaited Alex’s explanation. “Lena Luthor.” Within a moment a flurry of information was on the screen in front of them. Maggie scooted into a chair as her eyes read across the screens. “Adopted daughter of Lillian Luthor and sister to Lex Luthor. She took over Luthor Corp once Lex went to jail two years ago.”

“We need to see if she has any link to CADMUS,” Maggie muttered, starting to see the plan form ahead of her. “How do we get in?”

“I need access to their computer systems. Until then, I can’t break through their security without alerting them to us.”

Alex’s eyes danced across the screen. “She’s hosting a party this Saturday for their grand revival of their new name… lots of attention, lots of security at the party—all on the wrong place.”

A low-risk mission seemed like the perfect spot to test out Maggie’s skills.

“So, how do you like parties?”