#mute is everything but a pillow princess my dear

[kiruuuuu]

I’m not even ashamed to admit this hit me right in the thirst, @taleously! I adore these two, so thank you for this :) (Rating T, humour/fluff, ~1.5k words)

.

“- without even realising, I am holding the grenade all of a sudden and all I hear is this choir of dudes chanting ‘hot potato’ over and over -” Bandit breaks off as soon as he collides with Smoke who froze directly in the doorway to the workshop, so the two stumble inside, basically falling over each other and cursing under their breaths. “Hey, what’s wrong with you?!”

Since they attracted everyone’s attention except for two people who continue talking as if nothing happened, Smoke feels free to simply stare for a bit longer, feast his eyes on the human masterpiece illuminating the entire room with his dazzling appearance. Despite knowing nothing about art, Smoke is dead certain he’s witnessing a magnum opus which has come alive and somehow found its way to their base, a walking and talking sculpture currently engrossed in something technical and too high for him, utterly unaware of its own grace.

“Yo, Porter. Is someone else using your brain? Hello?”

He ignores Bandit a little longer in favour of basking in the presence of such ravishing beauty. He lacks the words to convey just how smitten he is, how pure and innocent his admiration, how deep the impression runs which has been left behind by the image before him, how permanent the imprint in his mind. It’s impossible to put into simple terms as nothing speech produces will ever adequately describe what he’s seeing but he makes the attempt nonetheless, scrapes together every last bit of wit and wisdom left over after his composure has been short-circuited, shattered upon entering to express his wonder.

Smoke blurts out: “He’s so fucking hot.”

Bandit looks at him weird and follows his gaze to the corner of the room where Twitch and Mute are working together on something resembling an engine. Probably due to the nature of their work today, they’ve both donned more casual clothes that are intended to get dirty, and dirty they did get. Mute’s sleeveless undershirt has long bidden farewell to its pristine white colour, making way for greasy handprints and a variety of smudges and yet it’s the most appealing thing Smoke has seen in his entire life. He’d give a foot to be allowed to wear it. Not only does it flatter Mute’s physique, it also draws attention to his upper arms which are usually maliciously hidden from the rest of the world – clearly with ill intent as the mere sight of them probably cures depression at one glance. It certainly does with Smoke. Mute’s hair is sweaty, dishevelled and falling into his eyes, and the fact that he looks like he just bit into a lemon doesn’t diminish Smoke’s urge to bite into him.

“We have to break the air conditioning”, Smoke adds and pictures it in his thoughts, fantasises about sweat dripping and white fabric turning transparent and -

“There’s no fucking air conditioning, you perv. Stop leering and move.”

“If I have to take my eyes off him for a single second, I’m literally going to drop dead.” He cranes his neck to keep watching Mute’s every move even as Bandit drags him to a table at the other end of the room. “Holy shit. Look at him. Where’s my guarantee that no one else is gonna flirt with him? What happened to the slightly arrogant but still totally fuckable nerd?”

“You mean the guy who has to be physically restrained so he doesn’t mount you immediately?”

“Yeah, that one”, Smoke agrees distractedly, his eyes steadfastly glued to Mute who’s pushing a few brown strands back but ends up smearing more soot onto his forehead which Smoke would lick off without hesitation were he allowed. “He so wants me, Dom, I’m telling you. Maybe he’s trying to flirt with me, maybe that’s what’s going on. Jesus Christ, this has to be on purpose. Do you think he sucks good dick?”

“Clearly, he chose to wear this for no reason other than to turn you into a randy ferret. And I don’t know, want me to ask him for a demonstration?”

“Keep your bloody hands off him. Not that it matters, he’s obsessed with me, but don’t even think about tainting him.” Smoke bites his lip as he watches Mute stretch, the muscles in his arms showing. “Oh man. He wants me so bad.”

“How come you’ve not asked him out then?”

“Because he’s so fucking far out of my league he might as well be playing a different sport entirely”, Smoke replies absent-mindedly and only realises what he’s just said when Bandit cocks an eyebrow at him. “I mean – that’s probably what he thinks. Or rather the image he has to uphold. You know, he’s this studious, serious, skilled teacher’s pet who shouldn’t get this turned on by an idiot like me, but there he is, dick rising as predictably as the morning sun whenever he sees me and nothing he can do about it.”

“So he’s currently consumed with desire, is that what you’re telling me?”

Both of them glance over to where Mute is fastening some screws while apparently joking around with Twitch, both of them visibly comfortable with each other and the sight feels like a stab to his heart. Like this, covered in grime and working with his hands, he’s painfully sexy and much more approachable than when he’s reading anything with a title which already flies over Smoke’s head – he looks like someone Smoke would actually chat up and that’s the whole problem. Because usually, everyone chats up the guys he likes. “Yeaaah”, he says very slowly.

The German opposite him snorts. “He’s pretty good at hiding it, isn’t he? What if he’s really a prude?”

“He can be a pillow princess for all I care, all he has to do is take it. I’d make his pretty body dance under my fingertips, you know? Play him like a fiddle, make him beg, make him scream, that sort of thing.”

“Is that so? Let him know, why don’t you?” And, much to Smoke’s horror, he turns to the person in question and yells: “Oi, Mark! Got a minute?”

“No no no, wait, wait”, he whispers and breathes a sigh of relief when Mute replies without even looking up: “I’m busy.”

“See, he’s busy, you best not disturb him, he gets cranky when -”

“Trust me, you’ll want to hear this. Porter is just telling me all the things he’d like to do to you.” This time, all conversation halts. Pairs of eyes slide over to Smoke who can feel blood rushing to his cheeks even as he tries to stay nonchalant and let none of his actual panic show on his face. He suspects he’s failing horribly, however, judging by Mute’s entirely unimpressed expression.

The young man says something to Twitch, making her laugh, and then walks over and if Smoke wasn’t dying inside already, now it’s much worse. Because not only does he have no idea what to say but also Mute’s so close all of a sudden, radiating heat and smelling like grease and heaven. “Shoot.” He’s looking down at Smoke expectantly and with a look of go on, I dare you to embarrass yourself.

“I uh”, Smoke responds and ignores Bandit’s wide grin, “how about – let’s go for some drinks? Later? If you have time? That’s, uh, I’d like to go for a few drinks. That’s it. I mean, that’s all. Don’t listen to Dom.”

“I’m not even saying anything”, Bandit murmurs, highly amused.

Mute examines him thoughtfully for a few seconds during which Smoke’s cheeks darken considerably. “I’m not deaf”, he announces, “and you’re a twat. You pay, but talk about me like that again and it’s cancelled. Deal?”

His face is burning by now because oh God Mute heard him and how much did he actually hear, so it takes a moment to register that he actually agreed. Stupidly, he babbles: “Yes, of course, thank you, I’m – yes. Deal. Let’s do it. Yes.” Mute just shakes his head again with an involuntary smile and returns to his previous task, leaving Smoke gaping and staring after him, marvelling at the back view of his body which is no less phenomenal than the front and he did it. He asked him out. He can panic later, for now he needs to contain the tremendous joy bubbling up in him.

“He likes you”, Bandit comments with a smirk, “fancy that.”

Oh I fancy him alright, Smoke’s brain provides helpfully while his mouth blurts: “I told you he’s thirsty for my cock.”

“Aaaand cancelled!”, Mute calls from the other side of the room.

Smoke can hear Bandit laugh the entire time he quietly pleads to his teammate, begging him to reconsider as Mute’s grin simply grows the longer he talks.

[clandestineloki]

fmgshdhs loki dating an innocent s/o who’s never done anything sexual but is so so curious and he just loves it so much when he uses his fingers on them for the first time and they can’t stop gasping and moaning when he rubs over a new spot inside that that has them feel so so good

"loooooove~" he teases, holding your thighs down. "if you don't stay still, we aren't gonna get anywhere soon."

"i know," you snatch a pillow, holding it over your face. "but it tickles!!1!"

loki clicks his tongue. "awh," he coos, "i'll make it better darling. can i see you now?"

you shiver, and nod slowly, your legs easing apart.

"good," he smirks, hooking a finger under your panties and sliding them off gently.

your hips buck up into his touch, and he grins. "ah- ah, princess?"

you hide behind the pillow, your body tensing up when he slides the fabric off your feet.

"there we go," he runs his hands up and down your legs. "wasn't so hard now, was it?"

you mumble something, muted by the pillow over your face.

loki sighs in adoration. you're so adorable.

loki taps a finger on your thigh, going higher until he stops just right above your wet folds.

"tch," he chuckles. "so eager for me, little dove."

you gasp when you feel his fingers tracing your cunt. mustering a bit of courage, you peek past the pillow and watch him work what seems like magic on your folds.

loki's eyes never leave your cunt, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he traces your slick entrance, gathering your juices onto the tip of his finger.

his eyes flicker up to meet your tentative gaze, and he smirks, bringing his finger to his lips and swirls his tongue around it slowly.

your eyes widen. it's filthy but it makes your face heat up with embarrassment.

"oh?" he drawls. "my innocent little dove getting all shy on me? we can't have that now, hmm?"

he toys with your folds, watching as you melt under his touch, soaking his fingers with your arousal as he teases you for being so dirty. loki finds it so cute, the lost expression you make when he shows you new things like this.

"okay, dove, this might feel a bit odd, but you can take it, isn't that right, angel?"

you have no idea what he's talking about, but you trust loki, and he'd never do anything to hurt you, right?

he chuckles when you nod so eagerly. if he didn't know any better he would have thought you were such a whiny little whore, but no, you just want to be a good girl all for him, taking everything he gives you even if you don't know what it means or what you're feeling.

loki feels you stiffen when he slips his index finger in. maybe it wasn't what you were expecting, but when he looks up at you, you're only staring down at him, doe-eyed as your hips shift a bit, hugging the pillow for a bit of comfort.

"kinda... weird..." you mumble, brows furrowing at the foreign feeling.

"you're doing so well for me, angel," he whispers. "does it hurt?"

you shake your head. "just different."

"mhm," he nods, curling his finger in a slow, soothing rhythm that he hopes will help you get used to it.

you gasp softly, thighs almost closing before you stop them, shuddering as you feel this fingertip nudge against a spot in you that feels so good.

"loki!" you whimper, seizing in pleasure as he speeds his movements, one hand pressing you down because you get so squirmy when you're drowning in pleasure.

"does that feel great, love?"

you nod, eyes rolling back as you moan loudly, toes curling with every shock he sends through you.

"loki..." you whine, squeezing the pillow.

"coming, dear?"

"i- feels weird, loki-"

"ssh, i got you, darling," he kisses your thigh, thrusting harder and driving you to a sweet climax that leaves your lips parted in a silent scream.

he doesn't stop, not until all you can manage are shaky gasps and stutters, when your cunt stops clenching down on him. he chuckles fondly, slipping his finger out and watching as your cum leaks out of your sensitive hole.

"baby," he teases. "how could you take my cock if you're almost passing out on me now?"

your eyes widen. "your... what?"

he laughs, pressing a kiss to your thigh, pretending not to notice when your hips twitch back up.

"just teasing, angel. maybe... next time~"

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

please please a part 2 of that gamer!geralt au, them doing something like Q&A

Nonie, I hope you know what you signed up for. This got out of hand lmao. like 2.4k of Q&A kind of out of hand. 

Warnings: swearing, talk of drinking to excess, kinda spicy questions, lil kisses, idk how but I meant for this to be goofy and horny and it got kinda soft? what’s new?

____________

“Holy shit,” Geralt sat staring at his phone as he mindlessly stirred pasta.

“I swear to god, if you found a way to burn noodles-” Jaskier turned away from the blender to wave a wooden spoon covered in pesto puree.

Geralt shook his head and held his phone up to him, scrolling through the replies to a tweet as he did, going on for ages as Jaskier’s jaw slowly got closer to the floor.

“What are those for?!”

“I put up a poll for a boyfriend Q&A or a game review and not a single person has voted for the game review.” Geralt was still scrolling through questions people wanted answered as he watched Jaskier’s face go from shock to confusion to a smug grin. 

“They love me,” he sang, kicking his heel up as he turned back to the pasta sauce.

Geralt rolled his eyes and started screenshotting some of the less invasive questions, shaking his head and muttering, “Course they do.”

-

Geralt pressed record, waited a moment, and heaved a dramatic, long-suffering sigh, “You guys literally didn’t even give me a choice on this one,” he reached off frame and scruffed Jaskier, plopping him down on the couch with him. 

Jaskier didn’t stay where he was put for even a moment, using his momentum to bounce up onto Geralt’s lap with a shit-eating grin, “Oh? Are we rolling?”

Geralt dropped his forehead to Jaskier’s shoulder, stifling a laugh, “This is gonna be a long one.”

“Yeah, it is,” Jask agreed, then turned to the camera, stroking Geralt’s hair, “My fans want more!”

“OH-kay,” Geralt manhandled Jaskier to sit next to him which earned him a pout and a leg draped over his lap as he continued his intro, “I’ve got a bunch of questions from twitter. I didn’t even have to confirm which video we would do, you guys just went straight for the kill. I picked a few, Jask picked a few, neither of us knows which ones the other picked.” he turned to see Jaskier wiggle his eyebrows at the camera, “Why am I thinking you picked the raunchy ones?”

The brunet pretended to be offended before he smirked, “Only a few.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he nudged Jask with his shoulder and opened up his phone to his screenshots, “Okay! First up is AdamSandlersBitch, nice name. They asked what Jaskier’s favorite gaming console and game to play is.” he turned to Jaksier with raised eyebrows.

His boyfriend cringed, “My.. my phone? I don’t know? I play a lot of Candy Crush while I listen to podcasts?”

Geralt smiled sweetly, “Wait what about Stardew Valley? I thought you started that?”

“I did!” Jaskier brightened up for a moment before he deflated again, “But I got confused and then the ADHD made me bake cookies.”

“Those were good cookies. I’ll play with you if you want?” Geralt’s normal ‘streamer dude’ persona melted away while he played with the rips on Jaskier’s jeans. 

Jask leaned forward and kissed his temple, “I’d love that.” 

Geralt blushed, even after years, Jaskier’s affection still caught him off guard. 

“Mkay! My turn!” Jaskier flashed his devilish grin and read, in his most obnoxious voice, “Dwn2Clwn said ‘do you two live together? Have you said ‘i love you’? And who tops?’”

Geralt’s mouth twisted into an upside-down U as he stared at Jaskier in muted surprise, “Honestly, not as bad as I expected.”

Jaskier looped his arm around Geralt’s, “I’m starting off easy.”

Geralt let his mock-disapproving gaze linger just a bit before he answered, “The living together is kind of new-like a few months. This one said ‘I love you’ on, what? The fourth date? Fifth?”

“Fourth.”

“No, it was the fifth, Eskel locked himself out on the fourth. Remember?”

“Shit you’re right,” Jaskier gave the camera a stern look, “In my defense, we’d been friends for a good four years before this. I wasn’t just confessing my love to a tinder date - though I have done that before.”

Geralt nodded, “That was very amusing.”

Jaskier tapped his nose, “Don’t avoid the last part, darling.”

Geralt huffed and stared down the camera, and, in the most matter of fact tone possible, said, “We switch. Compromise, folks. Can’t have one person doing all the work all the time.”

Jaskier nodded sagely, patting Geralt's chest, “We got a pow-”

Geralt clamped his hand over Jaskier’s mouth, 100% sure he was going to say ‘power bottom pillow princess’, “Nope. I’ll get demonetized for that.”

“But not who tops?” Jaskier asked through Geralt’s fingers.

He just shrugged, “I don’t make the rules.”

Jaskier tapped his phone and raised his eyebrows, telling him to move to the next question. 

“Mis- Mischanication? Shit I hope I said that right, Mischanication asked, ‘would you ever get a pet together?’ We did! Her name is Roach and she’s a little shit! I told Jaskier not to feed her, but he did, now we have the snuggliest, crankiest cat I’ve ever met!” 

Jaskier had gotten up to pluck Roach from her perch on the windowsill when Geralt had read the question and plopped down with her as Geralt finished his proud speech, “She’s not a little shit! She’s just delicate! Isn’t that right, darling?”

Geralt scratched under her chin and cooed, “You are a nasty little dragon baby, aren't you?! Just a little garbage child! Yes, you are. We love the tiny demon beast.”

“Geralt!”

He snickered and kissed Jaskier’s hair, “Next question, love.”

Jaskier grumbled something about positive reinforcement as Roach scampered back to her cat tree and he unlocked his phone for his next tweet, “This darling wants to remain anonymous,” Geralt gave him some serious side-eye at that, “they said ‘I think I’m in love with the flower twink, where can I find one of my own?’”

Geralt frowned at the camera and pulled Jaskier onto his lap, holding him close and snuggling into his chest, almost growling, “Hands off.”

Jaskier giggled, brushing Geralt’s hair out of his face as he talked to the camera, “You heard the man. Unfortunately, I was not mass-produced and I’ve been spoken for.”

Geralt looked up at him with what could only be called suspicious puppy eyes, “You picked that one just to sit in my lap didn’t you?”

“Yes. And because I want to change my socials to ‘flower twink’.” 

“Do it,” Geralt kept Jaskier on his lap as he swiped to his next question, “Eggsfuckingsuck - heh, my dad hates eggs- Eggsfuckingsuck says, ‘what is the most embarrassing thing you’ve caught each other doing/saying?’ Oh boy, do I have a story for you!”

"Oh I couldn't say the thing but you can tell this story!?" 

"...you have a point... Check my insta stories. I'll put it there after I post this." 

Jaskier nodded, ever so pleased, and turned to the camera, "Our dear Yennefer of sorceryglammour once beat Geralt at trivia night when the theme was 'video games'." 

“We did shots before we went to the bar and she goaded me and Lambert into a chugging competition before the round started. I’m telling you, she planned this. Yen is ruthless.” Geralt desperately tried to justify his defeat but Jaskier was having none of it. 

“She’s mostly harmless, plus I have video evidence from that night. You weren’t that far gone.”

“Pull it up! Let’s settle it.”

Jaskier patted Geralt’s head like one would a toddler, “I’d have to get my old laptop out. Later, darling.”

Geralt had a smug look on his face, “That means he doesn’t have it anymore.”

“Next question!” Jaskier squeaked, not at all changing the subject. 

Geralt shrugged, “If you admit I won that one.”

“It’s not a competition!” Jaskier laughed, looking down at him with that stupidly smitten look on his face.

“Hmmm…” Geralt tilted his chin up defiantly, “if you say so.”

Jaskier kissed him, lingering a little bit more than could be considered chaste, “I do.” 

Geralt looked up at him, batting his eyelashes, “Fine then, next question.”

Jaskier handed him his phone and he read it off leaning his head on Jaskier’s shoulder, “CountryBumpkin42 asked if we play any instruments. I play the recorder very poorly, but Jask plays everything.”

“Not everything, but yes, I could cover a Trans Siberian Orchestra song if I had a pedalboard with enough loop settings.” Jaskier preened. 

“And more,” Geralt added, counting on his fingers as he spoke, “In this house alone he has two pianos, three different types of guitars, a drumset, a violin and fiddle, a flute and piccilo, an oboe, a mandolin, a lute, bongos, saxophone, clarinet, tambourine, trumpet, and xylophone. Did I get them all?”

Jaskier glanced from side to side with a guilty look, “Ah… no, I bought a bass sax that showed up last night.”

“Oh, did Thursday at 3 decide they wanted to switch after all?”

“Yeah! She got the third chair as a freshman on a loaner instrument! I’m very proud!”

Geralt seemed to remember they were recording and turned back to the camera, “J teaches music at the university and does private lessons.” 

“It’s how I can afford such a pretty trophy boyfriend,” Jaskier teased, ruffling Geralt’s hair and earning a little chuckle.

“Mkay, what do you have next?”

Jaskier smoothed Gearalt’s hair back down as he read the next question, “3R4108F6!J asks if we have any cute nicknames for each other.”

Geralt’s eyebrows nearly flew past his hairline, “J has a new one for me almost every day.”

“Its true,” Jaskier nodded, “I am a slut for cute nicknames. This morning was Ger Bear, one of my faves. I called him Thumbs for a bit, I lovingly call him Dumb Fuck rather often.”

“And he is Dip Shit, it’s balanced. I usually just shorten names? Jask or J is usually it, right?” Geralt asked, shifting so Jaskier was sitting on the couch between his legs and they were both turned out toward the camera but very much still cuddling. 

“And when I’m being childish I get Alfie. But Geralt is much more deliberate and specific with his nicknames. It’s a bit of a friendship level up when he uses nicknames.”

Geralt frowned at him, “I do that?”

Jaskier giggled, “You never noticed?”

He tilted his head, giving Jaskier a quizzical look, “Not at all.”

Jaskier cupped Geralt’s cheek, “You’re so cute.”

Geralt blushed again, leaning into the touch just a tad, “Who’s turn is it?”

“Yours,” Jaskier hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. 

“Okay,” Geralt blushed even more, “I had this one as an alternate, but uh, Yen asked what we’d name our first kid?” 

Jaskier leaned into Geralt’s shoulder and hummed as he thought for a moment, “I always like Blake or Spencer, but I seem to remember you saying something about old world traditional names?”

Geralt nodded, absentmindedly running his fingers up and down Jaskier’s arm, “My grandma was hoping each of us boys would be a girl and wanted mum to name us Cirilla every time. I quite like it, but I’m rather open as long as I don’t know someone with the name. I really like Eric?” 

“Oo, I like Eric.”

“But you like the neutral names.”

“I do, but it’s your hypothetical kiddo too.”

Geralt gave him a little squeeze, “There’s time for that later. What’s your next one?”

Jaskier snorted when he looked at his phone, “What are your guys’ love languages?”

Geralt just looked down at Jask, completely entangled in his arms, then up to the camera, “I’m gonna hazard a guess at physical touch.” 

“Yeah, I think that’s a safe bet,” Jaskier giggled, “I haven’t taken the quiz in years, but I was that and gifts.”

“Oh, yeah. Physical touch and words of affirmation. I got like a 0 on acts of service and gifts, but I really like giving gifts.” 

“Mhm, yes you do,” Jaksier wiggled his eyebrows, then turned to the camera, “I also had no idea you could have different giving and receiving languages till I met this one.”

Geralt nodded then turned to him with a slight frown, “you know I really thought your questions were going to be more graphic.”

“Oh, honey I saved the best for last,” Jaskier winked. 

“Fuck me,” Geralt grumbled before reading off his last question, “Cali852 asked what we did for Pride.”

Jaskier’s eyes lit up, “Oh Pride was fun. We watched the parade, of course, then Yen did our makeup and… and where did we go after that?”

Geralt looked like he’d been waiting for this, “We went to a club, where you ordered three kamakazis, knocked them all back, danced for twenty minutes, then I took you home.”

“N-no… we went to the beach, didn’t we?”

“That was the year before. We were going to go to the drag show at our regular bar too, but someone had just finished grading finals and went a little too hard.” 

Jaskier grinned, “Speaking of finals, time for the last question. I had a different one in mind but if the thing I cant say from earlier would get this demonetized then that defintitelyi would. So we’re going with ‘what is the wackest placy y’all banged?’”

Geralt snorted, “Shit who knows anymore?”

“Well there was the boat?”

“Or the train?”

“Nah, too standard. What about the cabin?”

“Heh, no I think your o-”

“I don’t have tenure darling,” It was Jaskier’s turn to slap his hands over Geralt’s mouth, “The answer is a dilapidated structure my parents still try to call a cabin out in the foothills.”

Geralt laughed and pulled his hand away, “Okay, that can be the answer.”

“Is that it? Now we just say bye?” Jaskier looked between Geralt and the camera.

Geralt shrugged, “Yeah. You wanna say the thing?”

Jaskier wiggled with a little pride and excitement, “Don’t forget to like and subscribe! Bye Fuckers!”

They both waved for a couple seconds before Geralt got up and turned the camera off. He popped out the memory card and was going to immediately start loading it onto his computer but Jask hooked his finger through a belt loop as he walked past and tugged him back down. 

“I’m tired. Snuggle with me.” 

Geralt hummed, “We just snuggled that whole time.”

Jaskier heaved a dramatic sigh, “I know and this is exhausting. I don’t know how you talk to a camera all day.”

Geralt stretched to set the chip on top of his laptop before collapsing back on top of Jaskier who had stretched the length of the couch, “Are you making fun of me?” he teased. 

Jaskier cupped his face between his hands and pulled him up for a deep kiss, “Oh never.” 

[eunjidrabbles]

for the bitter/sweet prompts can i request boxes, sweet version with dami? thank you!!

Boxes Sweet Ver.

A new start, or a painful end, it all comes in a small cardboard box. All life's stories are kept in it and sealed shut until the next phase of life, where it is unveiled again.

Word count: About 2.6k words

-

A soulmate is like a spark that appears in your life and never dims. It's a warmth that guides you together, again and again in each life. Or so that's what the people said. There was so little proof out there in the world that soulmates do exist it was pretty much a joke to you each time you hear of it. How many times have you watched your dear friends claim that they’ve found their soulmates but with it ending up to just a night out drinking to forget and numb the pain?

It was to the point where your friends actively avoided the topic with you, knowing that you were right each time, but the prospects of possibly having someone that was literally born to make your soul whole was always on their minds. They knew that you cared for them, seeing as to how no matter how much they had made you mad with the whole soulmate thing, you would always be there to help catch them when it all falls to ruins. It wasn’t as if it’s a handful of times in total, but watching each of your friends having to go through what they thought was their perfect story genuinely made you slightly angry. Who thought that it would be fun to have to search the world for someone that completes your soul? There are so many couples out there in the world who gave up on that thought and instead choose to live a normal life with the one that brings them happiness instead of with the one fate determined them to. Soulmates was just a word. The one who decides if you were complete is yourself. You would repeat that every time. This was no exception.

You were at a new bar, a little ways out of town. Usually your group would have flocked towards your usual bar in town for a night to help forget but seeing as to how that was where your friend and their supposedly “soulmate” met, going back was not an option. It was a slight shame, seeing as to how their house cocktails were not too bad. This new place though? You would hold your opinions until you have had a taste. Sighing behind the group as you all slowly made your way in and settled down at a table, you took a look through the menu placed at the table, mentally ordering down in your head the snacks to try to go along with the long night of drinks. Looking up, your friends had already went ahead to place an order for the first round of shots and with a chuckle, you placed the menu back down on the table and picked up a glass, awaiting the first toast.

A few drinks and half a plate of large fries in, you leaned back into the side of your sofa, taking a little breather while the rest of your group migrated over to the bar, eager to pick out their poison and watch it mixed right in front of them. The music in the bar was hypnotizing and along with the buzz of the alcohol pumping through your body, you could feel your heart thumping along to the beat. Throwing a glance over to the bar behind you, you did a quick head count to ensure that none of your friends had been kidnapped in the midst of all the drinking. Your eyes then slowly drifted over to the bartender who had their back turned. There was a moment where everything else was silenced in your head and you turned around more to observe them.

The moment they turned around, you felt all air rush out your lungs. There was this undeniable pull towards that woman and it felt so warm and familiar to you but you were sure you’d know if you had seen her before. With short wavy brown hair styled to frame her round face, you stared at the concentration she gave into every action. Her nimble hands tossed and caught the multiple bottles that she spun around to give your friends a show and with a few more shakes, she elegantly poured a colorful mix into a small cocktail glass. She of course, wasn’t looking at you. She was focused on making the multiple concoctions that your friends had ordered but before you know it, a call of your name tore your attention away from her.

Darting your eyes to your friend, you found yourself in the middle of walking towards the bartender. “Do you want a drink too?” Frozen on the spot with everyone’s attention including hers now on you, you stuttered when your eyes met with hers. Her half lidded eyes held a small smirk as any sense of words flew out of your head. “(Y/n)? You alright?” Shaking your head and blinking to pull yourself away, you waved your friend off with a hand signaling that you were fine. Has it been that long since you drank so much? Chuckling as you turned back to your original seat, you could feel the atmosphere of the bar slowly flood your senses again. Taking a peek back behind you once again as you sat back down, you found her gaze still on you so you shot her a small smile while raising your nearly empty glass, giving a toast to her.

Dami was her name, according to your friends who decided to poke their noses into your business after seeing how the both of you couldn’t tear your eyes away from one another. You laughed it off with yet another drink but keeping the name to the back of your mind for another night if you decided to be less drunk and flirt with her more. Seeing how you made no moves set off a chain of groans and teasing words but yet, you still waved your friends off claiming that it wasn’t meant to be your night. You were merely there to accompany your group and drink away the pain. Yes, that must be what happened. It must have been the alcohol in the system mixed along with the undeniable attraction you felt towards Dami that made you want to get closer. Throughout the night, drinks after drinks, you could feel a gaze on you even as the last of your friends who trickled out by pairs to escort one another home. Groaning as you ran your hand through your hair, you tried to shake off the pounding that was growing in your head and slowly lulling you into slumber.

“Hey.” Your eyes shot open and the first thing you saw was a glass with clear liquid in your face. Slowly moving back a little, you focused your blurry vision to the owner of the hands to find the bartender. Looking back down skeptically at the glass, you frowned. “It’s just water.” Nodding, you accepted the glass over to take a small sip and letting the cold and refreshing water do its job. Fidgeting around with the glass in your hands, you studied the woman before you. She was in a neat striped suit, probably the standard uniform of the bar and matched with fitting black pants that brought out her lean stature. Tracing your gaze back up, you found that she had been looking at you too, and you quickly take a gulp of the cold water although it did nothing to help the heat that was slowly rising to your face at being caught checking her out.

“You drank quite a bit, do you need me to call a cab for you?”

Blinking blankly while you tried to process what she just said, you nodded mutely and gathered your things as she signaled for another waiter to make a call.

“You’re like... A white knight, you know, Dami.”

She let out a hum of amusement at your sudden comment and shrugged with a small smile.

“Maybe I am one, so let me sit with you until your cab comes?”

The journey home was a blur, but all you knew was that sleep came to you the instant you rested your head on your pillow. You would have said that it was a good sleep had it not been the weird dream you had. You remember waking up in your dream with a hand shaking you up, and lot of hushed whispered conversations. From what you understood, it was a familiar voice telling you that it was “Tonight or never.” It wasn’t as if you had control over your body, it was more of watching a movie through someone’s eyes. You felt yourself being pulled into a warm embrace despite the cold metal that was covering the soft skin. Glancing up, you saw shadowed heavy brown eyes through the eyepiece of the helmet and all confusion melted away. What replaced it was hope for the future, and a yearning that made you give in; to give all your trust to this knight like figure. With that, you nodded.

“Then let’s go, my lady.” Next thing you knew was that you were running. There was a loud sounding of a bell echoing around you and once you passed through a small hole in the wall showing a forest, you heard shouting from behind and heavy thuds of countless footsteps. It was as if like every cliché scene in a movie where the protagonist trips but this hurt. You could feel the burn of your ankles and the scrapes on your knees and arm but the thumping were getting closer. Cold, dark fear ran as a shiver through you as you struggled to get back on your feet and look around for the knight who was ahead. “Playtime is over, Princess. Your father has had enough of your little tantrums.” Sharply turning back, you spot countless guards surrounding you, slowly enclosing in on you. Hobbling away from them slowly, you started shivering in fear. “You’re not supposed to leave me, you promised me!” Screaming a name that you could no longer remember when you woke up, a gleam of silver was all you saw as the knight rushed out from behind you and with a quick swing of a sword, your view was blocked by their back. Hearing the gasps from the rest, you could guess what happened but as you tried to take a peek around the knight, you heard them whisper to you once again. “There is too many of them, my lady. We need to run.” That was all the warning you can get before they turned you around and bolted, leaving their sword behind. Wind blew wildly in your face as they held you close and navigated through the woods. Shouts were heard from all around the both of you but the knight never once faltered in their steps. Only when they jerked to a stop, you were jolted in their arms and they slowly placed you on your feet. Looking down, you could see another part of the forest separated by a bridge, now snapped into two. Curses slipped the knight’s mouth, as they looked around for another way across frantically all the while so, the shoutings got louder. You felt your hand move to grip a gloved hand of the knight, grabbing their attention to you, as you reached up to remove their helmet.

Dropping it, one of your hands reached up to brush the red fringes back behind her ear, and the other to gently caress her soft face. “It’s okay.” You could see how her hard eyes soften at your words, how much this knight trusted the simple two words that you spoke. Slowly pulling her closer to you so that her forehead rested on yours, you whispered to her again. “As long as you keep your promise, at least our last breath are taken together.”

Ignoring the crowd that were approaching, you leaned up slightly and pressed your lips against hers. “Till we meet again.” With a leap, the both of you closed your eyes.

To say that the dream was terrifyingly realistic was a huge understatement. You woke up drenched in sweat, gasping for air as questions ran through your head in an endless loop. Adding onto the hangover that was from the night before, it was a complete nightmare. Rushing to your bathroom, you emptied your stomach’s contents before attempting to continue on your day by starting with a large glass of water. There was so many question that clouded your mind but one thing that stood out the most to you was the reason why you washed up, and started your long journey through pubic transport to out of town.

By the time you reached the bar, it was close to evening and there wasn’t a line into the bar just yet. Checking the time, you made your way in and looked around frantically to spot for a familiar face as you approached the bar. There already was a bartender but she was much taller, with blonde hair tied up into a ponytail behind her. “Can I get you anything?” Her voice was cheery, a stark difference to the lower tone Dami had. “I’m looking for Dami...?” The woman stared at you before looking to the back covered by a silk curtain in thought and back at you. “I don’t think she has a shift today, maybe you can try again tomorrow?” Sighing, knowing that you have no choice but to wait for another day to answer the question in your head, you gave the tall bartender a smile and nod before you left the place, preparing for the journey back home.

It was frustrating, not being able to get the answers that you wanted. The dream you had that night only made things even more confusing. It was in a dark bedroom and the only source of light there was, was the slow sunrise across the horizon. This time, it was as if time was as lazy as you were feeling, and barely moving. The figure next to you was sat up on the edge of the bed, watching the sun rise silently and you were slowly tracing your eyes on the tattoos on her back.

“Do you believe that we rebirth, my love?” She broke the silence as she turned her head towards you, sheets barely draping over her figure, covering her up.

“I suppose I do.” Stretching as you answered, you lazily rose up, letting the sheets pool down to your waist as you moved yourself behind her, embracing her from behind while she went back to admiring the view.

“Then promise me, you’ll find your way back to my side each life.”

“Of course, my love.” There was no hesitation in your answer to her. You both knew you kept your promises. That was all the confirmation that was needed.

Tears were already streaming down your face the moment you woke up. Pushing yourself to sit up, you wiped away the stains, realizing what it was. Those weren’t dreams. Struggling out of bed, you forced yourself to move to repeat the same motions you did yesterday. Pushing your way into the bar, all eyes locked onto the sudden intrusion as you once again, scanned the entire bar for her. The tall bartender from the day before was there once again, staring at you. This time, the silk curtains split to reveal the person that you were looking for, that was appearing in your dreams- no. Your memories again and again each night. Storming right up to the bar, you locked eyes to find her in a similar state as you were. Her eyes were red and slightly swollen, probably from tears shed a couple hours ago.

“It’s you. Dami- no. Yubin.”

“I promised you, didn’t I?”

[ink-feathers-and-paper]

Accepting help

Original Work: The Hurricane

The characters and the story belong to me.

Prompt: Sicktemper 2021 - prompt 23) Ear infection

Number of words: 3458 words

Notes: yeah, I know, it's not September 23 yet but I never do the prompts in the right order anyway... and I didn't want to wait to post it.

Oh, and English isn't my first language, so if there are any mistakes please tell me!

...

Blue was blind. She lost one eye to illness as a child, the other in battle. That wasn’t a fatality in itself. In fact, she didn’t really care about it, she was living fine without sight. She relied on her other senses to hear, smell, taste and feel the world around her. It was how she lived the world, her way, and it was perfect as it was, she didn’t need an extra sense.

Especially when losing her sight meant that she gained so, so much more.

And, oh, wasn’t magic a wonderful thing, letting her feel the presence of everything and everyone around her? From the smallest ant to the biggest of dragons, all had a presence that she could feel.

And that wasn’t all! She was linked to Earth – oh, her dear mother Earth that gave life to her and her people, created them from the back rocks and red sands of her Desert – and thus the ground itself, the one under her feet, was alive and singing to her, chanting for her, humming sweet nothings in her ears.

Yes, magic was wonderful, and Blue’s ears could hear it all and more.

So, when one day she couldn’t hear anything, she frowned.

What’s wrong? she asked, but she got no answer. Of course. The Earth may be alive and sentient, She still was nothing but earth. With no way to hear Blue’s prayer, no way to answer her. Blue could, but She could not.

Perhaps She is just moody today, though Blue with a shrug. It happened sometimes, that magic didn’t want to be seen, heard of felt in any manner. It didn’t make Blue’s life any easier, but she could deal with it.

It never lasted anyway.

Her right ear – the one that was burned – was hurting, but perhaps she just wasn’t used to silence.

Or perhaps the foxes are playing? supposed the young woman a few days later. The magic was still silent, and Blue was getting antsy. Young kitsune foxes fed on the ambient magic and sometimes took a little bit too much.

But she couldn’t feel them anywhere. Where they were usually stood a beacon of magic, in the shape of a fox. Yet she couldn’t hear them anywhere.

They must be gone, they realised they took too much from this place and left to feed elsewhere. They will be back when the magic will be fully replenished.

Still, she missed her companions.

Using magic was getting harder and harder, more tiring each time. It felt like most of it wanted to pool in her head, near her ears, but she needed it elsewhere, so she steeled herself and made it bow to her will.

Days passed, and still nothing. Blue’s other ear was hurting too now, she was tired. Even the smallest of spells took a lot out of her and oh, what if she was losing her magic? – that would explain so much!

(Blue was scared.

She didn’t know what she would do if she lost her magic. Losing her sight was nothing in comparison to what it would mean for her.

Losing her magic would destroy her like nothing ever did before

And she wasn’t sure she could get back up from something like that.)

“Okay, are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you?” asked Youko.

Her friend sounded worried, but her voice was faint as if she were talking from all the way across the room and not sitting just beside her.

“Oh, hi. When did you come back from your mission?”

Her hair still smelled like the sea, like iodine and warm sand. Even a princess like Youko had to do her part in the reconstruction of the Empire. Especially Youko, actually.

“Last night. I wanted to see you, but I was so exhausted, I just collapsed on my bed. Thank goodness I managed to change and shower, Arashi would never let me live it down otherwise.”

Blue giggled. Arashi once came back from a mission so exhausted that he had fallen asleep in his bed, dirty boots, and bloody clothes and all. When the redhead had woken up, he had been horrified to discover that he had brought bedbugs back from his mission. It had taken him a month to fully get rid of them.

Of course, Youko had found this hilarious, and Arashi had been looking for revenge material ever since.

“But, hey, enough about me. Are you okay? You look sick.”

And, if she were being honest, Blue felt sick, too. But it couldn’t be that, her magic protected her.

“I’m fine, I just… didn’t know you were back.”

“You didn’t?”

Blue could imagine her expression, all right. She had seen it so many times before, when one of their friends got injured and didn’t tell her. Wide coppery bronze eyes lighting up in worry and anger and why didn’t you tell me sooner, you bloody idiot?!

(Why do I have to fucking guess when you are injured? I am the team medic for a reason, for fuck’s sake! Come to me!)

“I’m tired,” deflected Blue. “I overexerted myself, I think.”

“… then what are you doing out of bed?!”

Blue didn’t have a chance. Youko manhandled her onto her shoulder (darn, her friend was so strong for a so-called healer!) and carried her potato-bag-style to her room despite Blue’s protests. They grew weaker and weaker as laughter shook her shoulders and the woman resigned herself.

Youko kicked the door of her apartment open with more force than necessary and dropped her captive on the bed. “Phew, you’re heavy! You should exercise more.” Blue protested as she tried to get up but Youko kept a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t you dare move, you hear me? I’m coming right back.”

“I have duties!” protested the dark-skinned woman, fighting the hand that pinned her to the bed. “I can’t just drop them all like that.”

“Sure you can. Bedrest, doctor’s order. Don’t make me use my authority as a princess on you, Blue.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Watch me.” Her friend’s voice got softer as a hand gingerly brushed over Blue’s tightly curled hair. “You are not alone in this, you know this, right? Let me take care of a few things for you. Everyone’s in town. My brothers, Arashi, Ankora… we can help too… if you’d just let us.”

Blue felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. She grabbed her friend’s hand and squeezed it.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and Youko softly kissed her forehead.

“Thanks for letting me take care of you.”

Exhaustion washed over the Mage, and Youko hadn’t even reached the door that she was already asleep.

The next time Blue woke up, she was in too much pain to ignore. She groaned as she tried to stand, but she felt dizzy. She had the mother of all headaches, her throat was dry, and her skin was warm and clammy.

Her ears held the worst of the pain, and when Blue lifted a hand to her head, she had to bite a pained gasp. Her right ear, in particular, was hot and wet under her touch, strange-smelling liquid oozing from it. The whole room smelled like it, actually, her pillow was soaked in it. Yuk. It didn’t look good

(Ha! Blind reference!)

She was sick. Sick. Had probably been for days. What an idiot, she admonished herself. Idiot, idiot, idiot!

And she didn’t realise, didn’t tell Youko.

Oh fuck.

Youko was going to murder her. Gleefully. She was going to cut her into pieces, stamp on them and then burn whatever remained. And she was going to dance on her ashes.

The dark-skinned woman tried to stand up, but her energy had abandoned her and she fell back on her bed with a pained moan.

Great. Couldn’t get up, nobody to hear her call from the corridor and no way to call for a servant either. Blue had requested – demanded actually, you could do that when you were best friends with the Imperial family – for no guards to stand at her door nor servants assigned to her room.

They would always treat her like a fragile thing as if she were made of glass. As if being blind hadn’t kept her from fighting in two bloody fucking wars, as if being blind made her inept to live for herself.

It infuriated her.

Well, in five years, it would be the first time she would regret that particular decision.

The woman sighed and tried to summon her magic. She could call for one of the foxes to deliver a message for her, or…

Her magic sizzled and snapped. Blue cried out, more from the surprise than the pain, and rolled off her bed and on her feet, all weakness forgotten.

She was a trained soldier, and if the last years had made go soft, some instincts were hard to kill.

She stood in her bedroom, raised elbows and ready to fight for her life. She strained her ears, but everything was muted. She tried to feel the earth under her bare feet, the vibrations of the air on her skin.

But there was no one in her room… or no one that she could find or sense. And considering how fucked up her senses were, she couldn’t fully trust what they told her.

“Show yourself!” she panted. She tried summoning magic once again, but her power reared up and snarled like a wild horse. Dread pooled in her gut. “What have you done to me?” she screeched.

The smell of illness cloyed the room and her nose, her ears were out of commission and her magic didn’t answer her.

For the first time in forever, Blue wished she could see. She wished she hadn’t been amputated from a sense, because it made her oh so dependent on the others and she couldn’t function without them.

She was fine without sight, but no sight and no hearing?

That would be the end of her world, chose one or the other, not both.

Weakness started to creep back in her, dizziness filled her head, and Blue fell on her knees.

“Blue!”

Arashi.

“Blue, what’s wrong! Your magic is all worked up!”

A hand on her forehead, a curse. The man scooped her up and Blue didn’t even think to protest.

“Fuck, you’re burning up. Hold on, okay? Hold on.”

Blue barely heard him. She fell in and out of consciousness as Arashi carried her to Youko’s apartments.

(They were closer to her rooms than the infirmary.

Oh, how many times did she end up there coming back from a mission or after a spell gone wrong?

How many evenings did their little group spent there, finally together after months apart, chatting and laughing in the night – forgetting everything but each other – until the sun rose and they had to prepare for yet another day of war?)

Blue could faintly smell medicinal herbs and remedies. She could hear Youko fuss over her, her skin smelling of lavender and her still-wet hair of tea tree. Long strands brushed over Blue’s bare skin, fresh and wet, and Blue sighed.

When she woke up, she was in Youko’s bed, surrounded by her smell and old books. A young kitsune fox was sleeping on the pillow next to her, its tail brushing over her arm repeatedly. It was still too young and weak to appear on the physical plane. It could only exist in the magical plane, for now, making it invisible to nearly anyone but her. Good, my magic sense is back.

It had probably been drawn to the buzz around her head, where the Healer was working her magic, her hands on Blue’s ears. Normal healing magic, that could only accelerate healing – not her battlefield one.

(The one that could reverse time on wounds and then re-apply them on enemies.

The one Youko had inherited from her mother, and now she was the only living being in the world who could use it.

The one that nearly took Youko’s life.)

Blue still opened her eyes when she woke, they weren’t sealed shut by injuries after all. Youko had done a great job at healing the burn on her face, she just couldn't save the eye.

“Oh, good, you’re awake. How do you feel?”

“Awful,” Blue croaked. Her friend laughed.

“I can guess. You had quite a high fever, you’ve slept the whole day off! Didn’t even wake up, just grumbled something as I healed you and immediately went to sleep. It’s early in the morning if you wanna know. Arashi brought you yesterday night.”

“Oh.”

So much work to catch up on! cried Blue in her mind.

“You have an ear infection.” Youko continued. “The right’s worse than the left, it started there. Your magic was completely focused on it, it tried to heal it but, well… it’s not your speciality for a reason. It helped slow the infection down, though. Blue… why didn’t you tell someone that you felt off? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Blue felt her throat tighten up. “I… didn’t realise, I guess. I was too caught up in my work, too… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Sight. A hand in her hair, brushing it back, and Blue leaned into the hand. It was warm, it smelled of lavender under the sting of medicinal herbs and remedies.

“Headslut,” Youko teased, even though she was the same. “I’m gonna ask Ryuu to give you days off. You can’t keep going like that, Blue…”

The dark-skinned woman stood up on her elbows. Ryuu was the consort of the actual Empress of the Guryong Empire. He also was Youko’s older brother. He was in charge of the army and the safety of the Empire. His wife, more diplomatic, handled the politics.

“I can’t!” growled Blue. “You know I can’t, else I would’ve asked someone already. It’s just… I am the only one who can sense magic like I do, Youko. No one else can even begin to imagine what I feel, hear, taste, feel and, yes, see! I am the only one who can detangle those thousands of hundreds-year-old spells through the city and the Empire! I can’t stop ‘till it’s done because my work makes the matrix of spells unstable, and who knows how long it will last? I can’t just drop it like that.”

Youko hummed in answer. Her hands went straight back to Blue’s ears and she started healing again. Neither woman spoke for a while. Then, the Healer sighed.

“I am the only one who has inherited my mother’s power. I am tasked with keeping her legacy alive, her knowledge, her art alive. Did you know she had three full libraries of notes? As well as four labs, only two assistants that knew a tiny part of her projects and over ten ongoing experiments when she died. I had to pick that all up and, well, continue her work. She took some of her secrets with her to the grave, too, so each time I do something, I don’t know if I have all the information… and if it will explode in my face or not.”

“How many times did it explode in your face?”

Youko giggled. “More often than I’d care to admit,” she said. “My point is, we all have tasks that only us can do. And yet you don’t see us neglect ourselves. I try to finish my mother’s life work. Arashi’s the only ambassador we have that can get in contact with the Demon Realm. Soren’s head of intelligence, but now he’s also head of the council and has to give advice to Ryuu. Ryuu, Blue! Do you know how hard his skull is? You have to fucking hammer your point home for him to actually listen to you, and he’s doing better since our teenage years! How is that possible?!”

She stomped, throwing her hands around while she ranted. Blue laughed.

“You know, I think he’s doing it just to mess with you.”

“I know! That’s the worse part of it all, I know he’s just pretending, and I hate that he still manages to make me mad!”

“He’s your big brother, he’ll always be annoying.”

“He’s the absolute worst,” Youko grumbled, but Blue could hear the fondness in her voice. “There,” she added suddenly. “All healed up. But I’m keeping you there for another day, ‘else I don’t think you’re going to follow my orders.”

“Which are?”

Youko grabbed her face with two hands and rested her forehead against Blue’s. “Bedrest. Strict.”

“Hmph!”

“I’m nod kidding. I’m gonna stay in this chair, just next to you, to make sure you don’t leave this bed. And it sucks, because I can’t do my work here.”

They were in Youko’s bedroom, no one wanted her to blow this wing of the palace up. The mental image of a restless Youko, away from her labs and books made Blue laugh.

“Forced vacation for the both of us, then, I guess!” she teased. “Can’t be that bad.”

“Aaaargh! You know what, I take back what I said about Ryuu, you’re the worst.”

“Yep, that’s me, your oldest friend!” said Blue cheerfully. “You’re stuck with me until the end, deal with it!”

Youko whined as if she were dying, and Blue laughed. She had forgotten how good it felt to just hang out with a friend and not working beside one another. It felt like a breath of fresh air after a long time inside, a whiff of spring after a hard winter.

“Wait, I was in the middle of my lesson here, why did you interrupt me?” Youko suddenly slammed a hand on her forehead. “Nice diversion here, Blue,” she said with false venom. “Uuugh, I hate you, I don’t remember where I was now!”

“At the part where you are working on the projects your mother left behind.”

“Oh, yeah, right, thank you. I love you again.”

“Yuk!” Blue stuck her tongue out in disgust. “Thank you, but no thank you!”

“You’re impossible” the other deadpanned. “How am I friend with you again?”

“I struck sand in your eyes and you hit me with a book in retaliation.”

Youko teared up. “… fuck, and that’s my tamest friendship. I’m a lost cause, aren’t I?”

“Yep!” Blue popped the ‘p’ childishly. “But we can be lost causes together, so it’s alright.”

“Thank you. Oh, well, back to what I was saying. I hired more assistants, you know? Didn’t want to become stuck in my work as my mother was, I’d end up crazy. I needed help anyway. My point is… you don’t have to do this alone. You could, you know, teach someone.”

Blue blinked.

“Youko, I’m blind.”

“And? That’s never stopped you before, has it?”

“Losing my sight was what allowed me to start sensing magic as I do. My magic sense, it… I only obtained it because I had to develop all my senses to make up for blindness.”

“And your brain gives it the form of sight, I know.” finished Youko. “But that’s not what I was saying. Your students – if you take students, which I strongly recommend– they don’t have to see – sorry, sense – the world like you do, but if they can sense what you sense in their own way, then they could help you.”

It felt like a breeze on her skin, the smell of spring, the earth after rain. So many possibilities, so many opportunities. How did I not think of this sooner?!

Her friend was still piling up arguments to try and convince Blue to take apprentices, the dark-skinned woman lifted a hand to interrupt her.

“Youko, you’re a genius.”

“… I am?”

Blue hated that tiny voice, that doubt weaved in it, with a passion. Her friend was so intelligent, and yet she thought herself below average. If only she had not spent her life comparing herself to her siblings, perhaps she would have more confidence in herself.

“Of course you are. And you know what? I think it’s worth a shot.”

Youko gave a watery chuckle. “You’ll do it?”

“Yes. I’ll make a stop by the Academy at the end of the week, perhaps talk with the other Mages. They might know someone. But only if we start spending some more time together. It’s been too long since our group had a game night.”

Youko laughed. “Of course. First night tonight with Arashi and Ankora?”

“Oh yeah. I know the perfect game.”

Sometimes, you just have to accept the fact that you need help… and that it’s not the end of the world, Blue mused. And that it’s good to have friends. Now, let’s show ‘em who’s boss.

[aesop1]

clumsy [1]

pirate!chanyeol x reader

a/n: hello, im new. i like exo. i decided to write to my heart’s content at 1 am. i wrote this in about an hour. on my phone. with no beta readers. so let’s do this!

word count: 3.1 k

warnings: none so far, just a few swear words; no semblance of a plot; may not continue this, depends on how i feel.

(i do not own gif)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

———————-

“yn, would you help me with this load?” your father called out from the front of the saloon. glancing over, you spotted him stumbling whilst balancing two large crates atop one another. he sighed in relief as you claimed the top crate. “thank you.”

“of course,” you carefully traversed the cobblestone incline leading to said saloon, ignoring the murmurs from the customers within.

in your small village on a small island, everyone knew everyone. meaning everyone knew you: the klutz who co-runs this place with her widowed father. by klutz, you’re not the cute, clumsy, trip-over-her-feet-into-a-dashing-gentleman’s-arms klutz; you’re zone-out-for-a-second-and-not-notice-the-wooden-bench-you-just-successfully-flipped-over klutz. after your third grand mishap, everyone labelled you as variations of clumsy, one of the most famous ones being:

“bungler, do you need help?” one of the men clung to the bar called out, earning some dramatic guffaws from his colleagues.

the first moment you heard the term bungler, you laughed. your father quickly explained to you the negative connotation revolving that word, basically calling you clumsy and awkward in a rather mocking sense. ever since, it has stuck to your character and become your alias around town.

successfully dropping the crate in the kitchen, you leaned back in your stance, hands on your hips as you caught your breathe. the rough melodies of traditional sea shanties meandered through the kitchen, taunting and reminding you that outside awaits a whole audience of creatures who are just waiting for your next spectacle. you were brought back to reality by the sound of the other crate being placed on yours.

“yn, dear,” your father gently pinched your chin as he took in your conflicted form. “head upstairs, I’ll finish up here and close. you’ve worked hard today, as you always do. thank you.” with a smile and the familiar burning sensation in your eyes, you held back your tears and thanked your father, hugging him and sliding out of the kitchen to evacuate to your room.

upon entering, you untied your apron and tossed it to your bed, cracking your joints everywhere as you finally allowed relaxation to overtake your being. collapsing onto your bed, you closed your eyes for a well deserved moment. you knew it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing to be so clumsy, but having a whole town mock you really takes a toll on you, as it would anyone else.

they treated you as if you were a jester, as if you were meant to appease to their humor, their entertainment. you were a show pony with a twisted ankle and they merely laughed. finally allowing a tear to slip to your pillow, you clutched the linen blankets beneath you, seeking some sort of comfort. some escape. you sat upright and stared out the bay window overlooking the vast sea.

before her death, your mother spent her days filling your mind with wonders and promises of a better life out beyond the horizon. stories of princes saving princesses and knights conquering territories. however, your father kept you grounded with his forewarnings of sea storms and pirates. oh how pirates petrified you. filthy criminals gone rogue, pillaging villages just like yours for some excitement and wealth, murdering those in sight for any reason they can think of. if they didn’t like your face, they’d carve it out cleanly just for fun. the memories of the horrific tales your father would whisper to you as scary stories always turned your blood cold, all before your mother would hit him for scaring you and then comfort you with her own stories.

a sudden chill ran up your spine as you continued to admire the ripples of the ocean, a foreboding aura emitting off the once tranquil site. shuffling to lay down, you pulled the blankets over your head, trying to shake off the fear that coursed through your veins.

—–

a deafening screech outside jolted you awake, sitting up and hyperventilating as you took in your surroundings. you were in your room still, wearing the same clothes you wore to work. everything would’ve been normal if it weren’t for the glow of red flooding your room from the fires just outside. peering out the window, you choked on your breathe when you saw your childhood town in flames, bodies littering the floor like a war scene. screams continued to fill the atmosphere, clashing metal sending a numbing sensation through your body.

ignoring your fears, you willed yourself out of bed and bounded down the halls to find your father, grateful you had decided to wear pants the day prior. however, lady luck decided to turn a blind eye to you, sending you skidding down the hall and falling directly on your back. while you attempted to catch your breath, you rolled over and peered down the staircase before you. if you were struggling to inhale before, the scene before greatly helped your misfortune when a sharp gasp hit you.

your father lied dead right at the open doorway, a shadowed figure towering over him. due to your rather raucous scene, the silhouette was staring directly at you. frozen for a moment, you stared at one another, a prey subject to it’s predator’s deathly gaze. with a pivot your way, the pirate took one step towards you which sprung you to action, clambering to your feet and dashing down the hall again, ignoring the ache in your muscle. realizing you’re trapped, you took a sharp left into your father’s room, scanning for a weapon you could use. of course he had nothing, spending his days in his kitchen every chance he had.

a deep chuckle resonated through your house, overcoming the chaos outside. the blood rushing to your ears blurred the sounds outside, leaving you hypersensitive to the thudding of his boots stamping on the weak wood of the stairs. your heart leapt, running entirely on adrenaline rather than reason.

with that in mind, you already found yourself clawing out the window and grasping the dense vines lining the walls. rather than traipsing down like any same person would’ve, you instead climbed up onto the roof. your father wasn’t really one for house maintenance, the many missing shingles proving that statement. scaling the treacherous terrain beneath you was a harder feat than you could ever imagine, a shingle skidding off the roof right past your father’s window most likely giving away your location.

with no other option in mind, you stood there, overlooking the ashes of your now ruined community. a pang of sadness hit you as you spotted the bloodied face of your taunter from earlier and you shut your eyes. probably not the best idea, especially when the thump behind you startled you to death, another shingle sliding out from beneath your feet. for the second time that night, you fell, the impact causing a snowball effect of loose shingles giving out. you rolled off the roof entirely, plummeting directly to the ground and blacking out.

——–

faint voices enticed you from your slumber, pulling you into consciousness. you weren’t aware of the first few minutes of the conversation, but as you came to more, it became clearer and clearer.

“it was a pretty good load, I’ll give you that,” a voice chuckled out, followed by the familiar sound of coins clinking together into a pile.

“I told you so,” a vaguely familiar voice chimed in. the depth of the voice almost lulled you right back to sleep, your brain now concentrating on how smooth and alluring it was.

“why hadn’t we attacked before?” the first voice asked, steps getting louder and louder. or maybe it was just the pounding in the back of your head.

“it’s such a tiny speck on the map, I didn’t even think about going there before. who knew it was such a hotspot for trading.” the steps were indeed getting louder, as well as the voices. especially that buttery rich voice that could fill a theatre with ease. “they didn’t even have a militia.”

“they deserved to be hit by us, they were too comfortable with their safety.” you rolled your head side to side, hoping to coax your eyes open before the two reached you. “what’s this?” your eyes shot open when you realized the voice was less than a meter away. you forced yourself to take in your surroundings, drowsiness still a very apparent factor in your muddled mind. wooden crates surrounded your being, a white tunic covering everything. you held your breathe as the cloth was lifted slightly, but not enough to reveal your concealed form.

“ah baekhyun took it after my incident.”

“what incident?” a snicker from the previous man resounded, then a long exhale.

“I went towards this saloon because I saw the owner dead at the front. I wanted to see if any of the guys were in there looting. by the time I reached the front door, I just saw a girl run, slip, and fall right on her ass at the top of the stairs. when she looked at me, she recovered and took off.” the other voice sniggered at the story of my misfortune. “I decided to follow her, I thought she was amusing. she disappeared for a minute, but then I saw a shingle fall. by the time I reached the roof, she was gone. not really sure how she got away so quickly. when I climbed down and out the front door, I saw baekhyun struggling to pull this supply barrow. so I helped him. I doubt anything useful is in this.”

“should we check?”

“I’m not really in the mood to sort out garbage, let’s just send jongdae and sehun down.”

“sounds good.” their voices began fading away before a door closed, completely muting them. you sat up, wincing at the throbbing sensation in your skull. pushing the tunic off, you discovered you were in a supply room of sorts. your bones ached, specifically your entire backside. you guess you fell directly into the barrow when you fell off the roof. you stretched your limbs forward, awakening the heavy weight of sleep from your body. turning your head, you noticed a porthole right beside you.

you crawled over, peering outwards to the endless blue. no signs of land anywhere and an eery stillness settling over the waters. your stomach sunk once your predicament clicked in your fuzzy mind; you were a stowaway on the ship of pirates who destroyed your village. even if you managed to find an escape from here, where would you go? your home was your father, the man who lie dead on your front door. a body of chilled air began suffocating you, your throat swelling up with the familiar forewarning of tears. you pulled your legs close to you and hugged yourself, the last person you had in this life.

the door creaked open, introducing two new voices. instinctively, you leapt out of the barrow, ignoring the pain shooting up your person and dived behind some other crates.

“so chanyeol said we had to clear out the barrow with the tunic,” one voice stated.

“I’m not seeing it,” the other voice answered. you decided to cautiously peek out to witness who you’re dealing with. a man, tall and thin yet by no means lanky. the other being on the shorter side, yet still significantly taller and stronger than you. you’re going to die. “there’s a tunic underneath this barrow, not on top.”

“well yeah that’s the only barrow in here, even if it didn’t have the white sheet over it, we still could’ve figured it out, idiot– wait.” silence fell over the two. you peeked out again to see the shorter man with his arms up in a halting position, most likely the man to cut himself off. “why would chanyeol describe it as having a tunic if it didn’t.”

“I don’t know, maybe it had the tunic when he came down and he just took it off.”

“why would he still describe it as that if he took it off himself?” more silence. the taller one stared down at the other, emotionless as he processed his words. without warning, he pulled out a sword from his side, backing away and scanning the room. the shorter one followed suit, revealing a sword of his own as he walked the opposite way of the taller one. he was walking right towards you.

holding your breath, you recoiled into the wall, praying that the boxes around you would shield yourself. it seems the tables were turning in your favor, because the man stepped by you, continuing to search for his trespasser. when he and the other man met at the other side of the long room, they shrugged to one another and turned towards the door.

“well that was weird,” the taller one mumbled in an agitated tone.

“let’s tell chanyeol. even if there’s no one on board, he should be aware of the possibility.” with that, the door opened and shut. for precautionary measures, you waited a minute or two, at least until your heart stabilized and your breathing evened out. you leaned back against the wooden walls and clawed at your olive toned pants. you were shaking, whether it be from fear or the dread which began appearing the minute you awoke, you were near your breaking point.

the spare drops of adrenaline motivating your weak heart caused you to finally stand. you crawled over the boxes carefully, making sure to not make a sound and alert anyone who may be nearby. although you knew the coast was clear since the two men left. all you had to do was find an escape and–

“how could we forget we were sent down here to check the garbage,” a voice from before blurted out as the doors slammed open, the other one laughing at the clear aggression evident in his comrades actions. without even thinking, you leapt back into your spot from before. of course you just had to stumble over the empty crate which had hidden you from the assailants, causing it to topple over with an unnecessarily loud crash.

there you sat, in the open, curled into yourself and staring at the two men who stared right back in shock. it felt like an eternity went by as you all refused to break the trance set by the three. your eyes darted between the taller one and the shorter one, taking in their young and… un-pirate like appearance.

you were expecting large, bulking men with wiry beards tinged with silver, scars over their blinded white eye with an eye patch resting comfortably on their forehead. layers upon layers of coats and ragged clothes to keep warm during cold ocean nights. maybe a hook or a peg-leg, but at that point you were stretching it.

at the end, it was the tall one who just so happened to cough and break the silent pact. you scrambled to your feet, the two men already grappling you before you could even stand erect. they both lugged you away, dragging your flailing and screaming body away.

splinters dug into your ankles, the only protectant you had being your stockings beneath your pants. the grip the men had on your arms were sure to leave bruises on your delicate skin. your screaming reduced to a series of pleads by the time you reached the deck of the ship. your eyes began blurring with the tears that you held back this entire time, the gravity of your situation hitting you.

they brought you to a hallway which lead you to a large room laced with treasures beyond your imagination. never have you seen so much gold in one landscape. jewels scattered across a rococo desk, necklaces lining any edge they could dangle freely on. a bed that could hold five yous and still have room for comfort sat against the edge of a wall, a scarlet duvet stretched across the planes of the bed like a coat of snow. candles were the only source of light here, no portholes in sight.

“where’s chanyeol?” the tall one asked aloud.

“I’m not sure. he went in here before we went downstairs.”

“we still have to clean out the barrow.”

“I know, sehun. fuck, why do you have to keep reminding me.”

“you seem tense, dae.” sehun reached his free arm to dae’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. dae immediately reacted by slapping his hand away.

“leave me the fu–” a door opening interrupted the two bickering, all attention directed towards the man leaving what you believe was his private restroom. “chanyeol.”

your eyes expanded when you met the face of the pirate who has been plaguing your life since last night. the roof pirate. he looked at the two men, then down at you. when his eyes landed on your helpless being, the twitch in his eyebrows revealed he remembered exactly who you were. with a clap of his hands, he took two long strides to stand before the three of you.

“well look at this,” he slurred out in a lazy manner, as if he had all the time in the world to deal with you. “you found my stray kitten. good work, boys.”

“your what?” sehun spluttered out, earning a smack in the back of his head from dae.

“jongdae, sehun, you are free to leave.” he never took his eyes off you, a smile slowly stretching upon his connivingly handsome face.

“do we still need to clean the–” another slap and a whine and they were gone, leaving you stranded on the floor with this man standing above you. the situation reminded you too much of the last scene you saw of your father lying dead beneath this man. you cowered away from his gaze, your cheek pressed against your shoulder. the man crouched to your level, grabbing your chin and turning you towards him. his hands were calloused, yet some warmth seeped through the rough exterior. rather than it being the comforting warmth of a fireplace or a home cooked meal, it felt more like the flames of hell themselves, tickling your skin with their embers. you were forced to stare at him, a demon trapped in the body of a boyishly attractive being. black hair tousled haphazardly like a nest, obsidian eyes darting around to each and every feature on your face, narrow cheeks cascading downwards into a sharp jawline.

“looks like I did manage to claim you after all,” he finally spoke, tapping his finger against your jaw. tonguing the side of his mouth, he leaned forward to your ear, fiery breathe sending shivers through you. “I’m going to make your life a living hell for trying to run away from me.”

[antecedentlypod]

EPISODE 2 TRANSCRIPT

-opening music-

Lorrie: Y’know, I really like this job, I really do, but fuck. What’s up with these stories?! I thought I was gonna be reading children's books. Not that these are bad but a little bit much I guess? Anyways, where’s, where is that story. Okay, almost there. There we are. Take one of the Twelve Brothers, read by Lorrie Adams. 

Take four of the twel- f-fucking, fuck. 

Take fourteen of Twelve Brothers, read by Lorrie Adams. 

-Once upon a time there were a king and a queen. They lived happily together and had twelve children, all boys. One day the king said to his wife, "If our thirteenth child, which you are soon going to bring into the world, is a girl, then the twelve others shall die, so that her wealth may be great, and so that she alone may inherit the kingdom."

Indeed, he had twelve coffins made. They were filled with wood shavings and each was fitted with a coffin pillow. He had them put in a locked room, and gave the key to the queen, ordering her to tell no one about them.

The mother sat and mourned the entire day, until the youngest son -- who was always with her, and who was named Benjamin after the Bible -- said to her, "Dear mother, why are you so sad?"

"Dearest child," she answered, "I cannot tell you."

However, he would not leave her in peace, until she unlocked the room and showed him the coffins, already filled with wood shavings.

Then she said, "My dearest Benjamin, your father had these coffins made for you and your eleven brothers. If I bring a girl into the world, you are all to be killed and buried in them."

As she spoke and cried, her son comforted her, saying, "Don't cry, dear mother. We will take care of ourselves and run away."

Then she said, "Go out into the woods with your eleven brothers. One of you should climb the highest tree that you can find. Keep watch there and look toward the castle tower. If I give birth to a little son, I will raise a white flag. If I give birth to a little daughter, I will raise a red flag, and then you should escape as fast as you can, and may God protect you. I will get up every night and pray for you, in the winter that you may warm yourselves near a fire, and in the summer that you may not suffer from the heat."

After she had blessed her children, they went out into the woods. One after the other of them kept watch, sitting atop the highest oak tree and looking toward the tower. After eleven days had passed, and it was Benjamin's turn, he saw that a flag had been raised. It was not the white one, but instead the red blood-flag, decreeing that they all were to die.

When the boys heard this they became angry and cried out, "Are we to suffer death for the sake of a girl! We swear that we will take revenge. Wherever we find a girl, her red blood shall flow."

Then they went deeper into the woods, and in its middle, where it was darkest, they found a little bewitched house that was empty.

They said, "We will live here. You, Benjamin, you are the youngest and weakest. You shall stay at home and keep house. We others will go and get things to eat."

Thus they went into the woods and shot rabbits, wild deer, birds, and doves, and whatever they could eat. These they brought to Benjamin, and he had to prepare them to satisfy their hunger. They lived together in this little house for ten years, but the time passed quickly for them.

The little daughter that their mother, the queen, had given birth to was now grown up. She had a good heart, a beautiful face, and a golden star on her forehead.

Once on a large washday she saw twelve men's shirts in the laundry and asked her mother, "Whose are these twelve shirts? They are much too small for father."

The queen answered with a heavy heart, "Dear child, they belong to your twelve brothers."

The girl said, "Where are my twelve brothers? I have never even heard of them."

She answered, "Only God knows where they are. They are wandering about in the world."

Then she took the girl, unlocked the room for her, and showed her the twelve coffins with the wood shavings and the coffin pillows.

"These coffins," she said, "were intended for your brothers, but they secretly ran away before you were born," and she told her how everything had happened.

Then the girl said, "Dear mother, don't cry. I will go and look for my brothers."

Then she took the twelve shirts and went forth into the great woods. She walked the entire day, in the evening coming to the bewitched little house.

She went inside and found a young lad, who asked, "Where do you come from, and where are you going?"

He was astounded that she was so beautiful, that she was wearing royal clothing, and that she had a star on her forehead.

"I am a princess and am looking for my twelve brothers. I will walk on as long as the sky is blue, until I find them." She also showed him the twelve shirts that belonged to them.

Benjamin saw that it was his sister, and said, "I am Benjamin, your youngest brother."

She began to cry for joy, and Benjamin did so as well. They kissed and embraced one another with great love.

Then he said, "Dear sister, I must warn you that we have agreed that every girl whom we meet must die."

She said, "I will gladly die, if I can thus redeem my twelve brothers."

"No," he answered, "you shall not die. Sit under this tub until our eleven brothers come, and I will make it right with them."

She did this, and when night fell they came home from the hunt. As they sat at the table eating, they asked, "What is new?"

Benjamin said, "Don't you know anything?"

"No," they answered.

He continued speaking, "You have been in the woods while I stayed at home, but I know more than you do."

"Then tell us," they shouted.

He answered, "If you will promise me that the next girl we meet shall not be killed."

"Yes," they all shouted. "We will show her mercy. Just tell us."

Then he said, "Our sister is here," and lifted up the tub. The princess came forth in her royal clothing and with the golden star on her forehead, so beautiful, delicate, and fine.

They all rejoiced, falling around her neck and kissing her, and they loved her with all their hearts.

Now she stayed at home with Benjamin and helped him with the work. The eleven went into the woods and captured wild game, deer, birds, and doves, so they would have something to eat. Their sister and Benjamin prepared it all. They gathered wood for cooking, herbs for the stew, and put the pot onto the fire so a meal was always ready when the eleven came home. She also kept the house in order, and made up the beds white and clean. The brothers were always satisfied, and they lived happily with her.

One time the two of them had prepared a good meal at home, and so they sat together and ate and drank and were ever so happy. Now there was a little garden next to the bewitched house, and in it there were twelve lilies, the kind that are called "students." Wanting to bring some pleasure to her brothers, she picked the twelve flowers, intending to give one to each of them when they were eating. But in the same instant that she picked the flowers, the twelve brothers were transformed into twelve ravens, and they flew away above the woods. The house and the garden disappeared as well.

Now the poor girl was alone in the wild woods. Looking around, she saw an old women standing next to her.

The old woman said, "My child, what have you done?" Why did you not leave the twelve white flowers standing? Those were your brothers, and now they have been transformed into ravens forever."

The girl said, crying, "Is there no way to redeem them?"

"No," said the old woman, "There is only one way in the world, and it is so difficult that you will never redeem them. You must remain silent for seven whole years, neither speaking nor laughing. If you speak a single word, even if all but one hour of the seven years has passed, then it will all be for nothing, and your brothers will be killed by that one word."

Then the girl said in her heart, "I know for sure that I will redeem my brothers."

She went and found a tall tree and climbed to its top, where she sat and span, without speaking and without laughing.

Now it came to pass that a king was hunting in these woods. He had a large greyhound that ran to the tree where the girl was sitting. It jumped about, yelping and barking up the tree. The king came, saw the beautiful princess with the golden star on her forehead, and was so enchanted by her beauty that he shouted up to her, asking her to become his wife. She gave him no answer, but nodded with her head. Then he himself climbed the tree, carried her down, set her on his horse, and took her home with him.

Their wedding was celebrated with great pomp and joy, but the bride neither spoke nor laughed.

After they had lived a few years happily together, the king's mother, who was a wicked woman, began to slander the young queen, saying to the king, "You have brought home a common beggar woman for yourself. Who knows what kind of godless things she is secretly doing. Even if she is a mute and cannot speak, she could at least laugh. Anyone who does not laugh has an evil conscience."

At first the king did not want to believe this, but the old woman kept it up so long, accusing her of so many wicked things, that the king finally let himself be convinced, and he sentenced her to death.

A great fire was lit in the courtyard, where she was to be burned to death. The king stood upstairs at his window, looking on with crying eyes, for he still loved her dearly. She had already been bound to the stake, and the fire was licking at her clothing with its red tongues, when the last moment of the seven years passed.

A whirring sound was heard in the air, and twelve ravens approached, landing together. As they touched the earth, it was her twelve brothers, whom she had redeemed. They ripped the fire apart, put out the flames, and freed their sister, kissing and embracing her.

Now that she could open her mouth and speak, she told the king why she had remained silent and had never laughed.

The king rejoiced to hear that she was innocent, and they all lived happily together until they died. The wicked stepmother was brought before the court and placed in a barrel filled with boiling oil and poisonous snakes, and she died an evil death.-

These stories are… weird. They ma-ma-ma mm, make me feel weird. And I don't like it! Like, sense of impending doom sort of weird. Is-is-is-is fuck, is that normal? I don’t think that's exactly normal. I guess. Since I'm gonna have to cut this all out to send off later, I-I think I’ll just start using the aftermath of the recordings to just… talk? Just-just to log and explain what's been happening. Like, like-like-like last night, I could’ve fucking sworn I heard the book moving on its own. Like-like I don't know, it could’ve been hallucinations. I don’t even sleep in the same fucking room I record in. How the hell would I hear the pages fli-flipping if it wasn't a hallucination. It had to have just have been a hallucination, it can’t have been anything else! I dont-dont-dont like it though. Fish has been acting weird too. Not like-like weird weird but just, off? She keeps saying she doesn't feel right. Maybe she got sick? I'll have to ask her later. Gotta make sure there's, like, meds and stuff. I-i-i-f she did, get sick. It-it-it-it’s really not that bad if-if she gets sick, it's not like she's on her own or anything. [chuckles softly] she's my little sibling, i-i-i-i-i-i need to take care of her, I need to make sure that she's okay. [sighs] I just hope it do-do-do-fuck, it doesn't interfere with her schoolwork. She w-worked so hard to get into college, i-i-i-i mmm, I don't know what I’d do if someth-something made it so she got behind. She's my-she's my-she’s my best friend. I should go check on her, end recording.

[oh-my-otome]

Hello, Amalthea dear! If you’re not too busy, or whenever you get a chance, could you do a headcanon on how the Ikemen Sengoku suitors would lovingly wake up the MC? Much love ❤️💕

Thank you for your patience, my lovely!

Kennyo has been up for awhile, holding you close to him with one arm draped protectively over you, keeping you nice and warm against him, His other arm comfortably under your head, like a pillow. 

When you open your eyes, they focus on his smile– it hangs lazily on his features, handsome for all of its sleepiness. You bring yourself closer to him, earning a low rumble of a laugh that hums in his throat.

He apologizes for waking you up, but he just loves the feel of you in his arms, and couldn’t help cuddling you, first thing in the morning.

Motonari wakes you up accidentally, when he shifts to sit up and stretch. To compensate you, he pulls you back down and cradles your head against his chest, resting his chin gently on top of your head.

He begins stroking your side in an effort to lull you back to sleep and, wrapped in his embrace, you find that it’s a little more effective than you thought. 

You find your eyes beginning to close, despite yourself. 

Before you know it, you’ve taken a little cat nap even though you thought you were fully rested. 

Only this time, when you wake up again, Motonari’s the one who has drifted off to sleep, safe in your arms.

Ieyasu’s got it all figured out, down to the last detail. 

He’s made sure to tell his cook exactly what to make– all of your favorite breakfast treats –and had them ferried up before your usual waking time, for a breakfast-in-bed surprise!

Of course, you can only assume that that was the plan, as Ieyasu is sleeping soundly next to you, curled in a little ball, with one hand clinging to yours. 

Just a little way away from the bed lies a legged tray table packed with a sumptuous morning meal, and even a card with your name on it– in his handwriting. 

He must have fallen asleep after positioning everything just so!

His brow is slightly furrowed as he dreams, and you giggle quietly each time he mumbles snatches of the conversation he must have had with his staff about what foods to include.

Ieyasu stills after you place a kiss on his cheek, and he trades innocently talking in his sleep for burrowing further under the covers.

Shingen takes advantage of you being a stomach sleeper, and lightly moves your hair away from your face, so that he can have better access to your shoulders and neck.

He gives you a gentle massage, as you slowly make your way out of sleep, all soft respectable touches, and you find yourself adjusting in the covers to give him better access.

Chasing each caress with a quick kiss, you sigh a greeting to him, and he gives you a bright smile to rival the brilliance of the morning sun.

Hideyoshi has been up for hours, off doing his morning training. After a stop at the baths, he’s fresh and clean when he returns to your room. 

When he crawls back under the covers, he gives the bed a playful bounce, the momentum causing you to roll over right into his arms.

You wake up mid-roll, but there’s no exasperation in your features– you don’t mind a little silliness first thing in the morning. 

The two of you are all smiles as you fit against each other, and settle in the sheets– nuzzling and sharing chaste kisses –saying ‘good morning’ in your special own way.

Mitsunari shifts a little bit, holding his book aloft as you adjust in his arms. It’s always like this, first thing in the morning, the two of you sleeping in and being late risers to boot.

Typically, he quietly leans over to pluck a book from the shelf, and waits patiently for you to wake up, holding the book in one hand and stroking your hair with the other. 

This morning, though, you ask him to read aloud, and his cheeks color slightly in the morning light.

“Oh, you wouldn’t be interested,” he insists, and you shush him with a sweet peck to his temple.

Emboldened, he sits up straighter, fluffing the pillows behind him, before hoisting you against his chest and leaning back as one, against the headboard.

As he begins to read, you notice that his voice sounds a little more rough and deep than it normally would. Attributing it to him having just woken up, you lay your ear to his chest, hugging him close to your side, as you listen to him read.

Since meeting you, Nobunaga usually likes to sleep in, but this time he’s up before you are. 

Half-asleep, you feel a strange sensation– like you’re floating –and you open your eyes in alarm, looking around wildly.

You realize, then, that you’re being carried princess style, and look up only to find Nobunaga peering down at you in surprise– he’s standing there with you in his arms, out on the tenshu, a thick blanket draped around his shoulders.

He huffs a laugh as you wiggle in his arms, trying to get down. He settles himself on the balcony, placing you in his lap, and wraps the two of you up like a cocoon.

You managed to ruin his surprise– waking to the golden sun, as it rises to greet you –but he smiles at you as if it doesn’t matter, dropping a kiss on the top of your head.

Yukimura has made sure to sneak out of bed to quietly open the windows, wanting to let the call of the morning birds entice you out of your sleep.

With the muted light of daybreak filtering into the room, and the fresh air rolling in, you stir in the bed clothes, shifting closer to seek out his warmth. 

He pulls you to him readily, snuggling as close as he can, savoring the feel of you against him, and drawing the covers higher up– higher than they need to be –to give you the first kiss of the morning.

Sasuke likes the feel of your legs tangled with his, underneath the blankets.

When you try to roll over onto your side, he playfully catches your legs with his, and draws closer to you.

He catches your hand next, when you give a mock push against his chest, and he uses the momentum to pull you with him, feigning being knocked back.

With you half on top of him, he brings his other hand up to nestle it in your hair, while at the same time drawing your captured hand to his lips. 

He doesn’t take his eyes off of yours when he presses a kiss to the top of your hand, and wishes you a good morning.

Mitsuhide is laying quietly, hugged up against your back, with his arms low on your waist. 

Hands clasps and nestled near your stomach, he smooths a kiss on the back of your head, nuzzling into your hair, where you can’t see him smiling warmly– a secret only for him –the covers rumpled all around you.

He knows that you’re awake when you scoot back a little into the cradle of his hips, and arch your back into his chest as you give a little yawn. 

Mitsuhide waits for you to look back at him, over your shoulder, kissing his way from the top of your head to your ear with soft butterfly kisses.

Kenshin has been waiting impatiently for you to wake up, and had half a mind to shake you awake himself. 

Here he sits in the bedding, however– resting on his elbows with you having slid down his chest, into his lap.

He’s not usually the type to notice these things, but the color of the sky as the sun climbs higher looks particularly beautiful this morning, and in a fleeting moment of sentimentalism, he really wanted to share the view with you.

He hasn’t the heart to actually wake you up, though, so he burns the memory into his eyes, stroking your hair where it spill over his lap and down onto the bed.

He finds comfort in the fact that he will be by your side for many more mornings than this, and there is always tomorrow’s sunrise to look forward to.

You won’t find Masamune waiting for your to arise from your beauty sleep, like every other day.

Instead, the sweet smell of freshly-made pancakes– fluffy and golden –are what pull you out of your sleep, this particular morning.

He usually likes giving chase, and has nothing against you waking up by his side, but as you walk into the kitchen and find him waiting for you at the breakfast table with an easy smile– your place set and ready, food still piping hot –you realize that this time, he wanted you to come to him.

[kneesheee]

Sweet Pea’s Sapphire

|epilogue|

Sapphire was drunk.

Sapphire was drunk and that was surprising in itself because Sapphire drinks but she doesn’t get drunk. Especially not after having her drinks drugged. But here she was standing on top of the bar in the entertainment room of Stone Manor loudly singing a rendition of Purple Rain.

She had long ago thrown off her Serpent Jacket and was proudly strutting around in just her bra and a stolen pair of Joaquin’s cargo pants. Of course, in retaliation, Joaquin was recording her “to play at her wedding” but everyone knew that it was for blackmailing purposes.

Beyoncé’s Dance for You started playing, and Fangs nudged him with his elbow. “You should go get her down before she starts stripping and giving Toni lap dances… again. Somehow I don’t think Cheryl would appreciate that.”

The two boys laughed knowing exactly how jealous Cheryl was of Toni’s and Sapphire’s friendship. Not to mention that Cheryl wouldn’t want to do anything to hurt said friendship especially since Sapphire had only just stopped glaring at the ginger whenever she came around. Yeah, Saph was still not over Cheryl entering their group and manipulating her friends away from her.

“But, dude, seriously, once the second verse hits, I don’t doubt that somebody would get hit with her bra,” Fangs teased, and Sweet Pea shook his head with a smile. He downed the rest of his drink before standing up and making his way over to his ex-girlfriend who had started to slowly belly roll alongside the beat. Just the sight of that had heat pooling in Sweet Pea’s lower region, but he still maintained his sanity as he got closer.

“Aw, come on SP,” he heard someone groan as he stopped in front of the bar. Sapphire though perked up and look towards Sweet Pea. Her eyes widened even as a smirk pulled on her lips and she dropped down into a split. Immediately, wolf whistles and groans of sexual tension echoed around the room. Sapphire paid them no mind as she gazed at the beautiful boy standing before her.

She swung her legs around until she was sitting as she could get in front of him. “You’re cute as fuck,” she said and felt a flash of confusion when she heard her brother choke on a laugh. The boy in front of her laughed also even as he was fighting off his own cocky smile.

“You’re beautiful yourself princess,” and Sapphire’s nose scrunched up. “Princess? I’m more Xena than Cinderella.”

He laughed again, and she smiled. He had a nice laugh. “Yeah, I can believe that. But I was thinking more of a Female Loki.”

Marvel! He was Marvel fan! Fuck, he was becoming more perfect with every word. “I think I’d make a better Shuri or Female Tony Stark.”

“I can totally see that. You’re certainly smart enough for that.”

Sapphire blinked. Just who the hell was this cute boy and how did he know her. She was one hundred percent sure that she would’ve remembered meeting someone as gorgeous as he. She turned her head a little and grabbed a bottle of wine from behind the counter. She quickly uncorked it and chugged it down before turning to look back at the boy.

She sighed just a little, “You are really pretty,” and then she yelled as she looked around the room for her best friend only to see her locking lips with that Blossom bitch. She wasn’t even a good powerpuff girl. “TONI! LOOK AT THIS HOT PIECE OF ASS IN FRONT OF ME!”

Toni pulled away from Cheryl to look at her gem sister and the apparently attractive person in front of her only to come to the sight of Sapphire and Sweet Pea. Toni immediately started laughing. “GO LOOSE, SAPH!”

Cheryl even chuckled as she realized what was going on, “I thought you said that she doesn’t like drinking.”

Toni smiled and shook her head, “She doesn’t. Not after everything that happened with Nick, the Dick.”

Of course, not what many people were privy to was that Sapphire just had one hell of a week dealing with SE’s Board wanting her to be more included in the company’s business and then she had to deal with flushing out some of the bad businessmen committing industrial espionage. Then she was being fought tooth and nail at the teenage club that she was trying to get opened. And not to mention the fact that since opening Stone Industries, her cousin, Sonja, had Sapphire wondering if going to jail for murder really worth it. If she had one more meeting to sit through, she swore she was going to scream.

Back by the bar, Sweet Pea was trying to coach Sapphire off the bar, but she was too busy flirting with him. Her hands reach out and gripped one of his muscles. A sort of thrill went through her imaging him picking her up and holding her against a wall—

Sapphire nods, eyes scanning Sweet Pea’s face slowly, taking in every aspect and feature on it and she smiles pleased when she finishes, “I gotta ask, do you come here often?”

To her mansion? Yes, twice a week and sometimes three if there’s no more ice cream in at any of their homes.

Sweet Pea snorts, fondness for this dumbass making his heart to beat faster. “Charming as always, I see.”

“I can show you ‘charming’.” Sapphire says, eyebrows wiggling in a suggestive manner and while the others groan and stifle laughter from around them, Sweet Pea just smiles. “But before that, I’m a woman of honor and I gotta know: are you single?”

Sweet Pea immediately paused, and it was like someone pressed mute on the room with how quiet everyone got.

Sapphire only looked directly at Sweet Pea. She swore she was going to cry if this stunning boy was taken. She had never felt more beautiful than at that moment with the way he was gazing up at her as if she was the most important thing in the world to her. She felt like a character right out of the romantic novels Joaquin gifted her for Christmas two years ago.

She felt like a princess.

His Princess.

“No, I-. I’m actually… courting someone at the moment,” he replied sincerely. “I made a mistake and now I just hope she feels the same.”

Courting? Who the fuck uses courting in a regular sentence like that? But at the same time, she felt dread settle in her stomach. Whoever this girl was to get this attractive ass dude to use courting in a sentence must be pretty damn special.

“You should buy her diamonds. Or pearls. Or Swarovski studded chocolates. Those are good. Oooh, you should buy her some sapphires,” she smiled goofily before giggling abruptly. “My name is Sapphire. Sapphire Stone.”

“I know who you are,” pretty boy says again and Sapphire pouts. He was a fan? That just took his attractiveness down like a lot. Sapphire sighed before she slowly slid off the bar to stand unsteadily on her feet. She looked at pretty boy and patted his cheek, “You’re way too pretty. I hope the girl you’re courting gives you another chance.”

And then she turned and pressed herself to her brother’s side. “Quin? I’m ready to go home.”

She didn’t hear the soft mutter of, “I hope she does too” from behind her. -- It’d be another two weeks before anyone would catch a glimpse of Sapphire. She had been hiding away trying to buy a publishing company mainly because she did not have the patience to wait any longer for updates. She had also attended a few anime conventions and had to do a photoshoot for Teen Vogue and Seventeen. Not to mention, she was being considered a voice actor to an upcoming show. She was tired, and she wanted nothing but to get to her bed when she walked into her house.

She didn’t even notice the rest of the Kingpin and the Northsiders that were sitting in the front room. She only hung her keys on the hook and pulled off her shoes throwing them wherever. She took off her jacket and chucked off her shirt and pulled off her pants as she made the walk towards her room. The last thing the people sitting in her living room heard was the sound of her door slamming shut.

The Kingpin members each turned to look at each other as if wondering who was going to go check on her. Toni was immediately shaking her head, “Did you see her face? Her eye bags had bags. The last time she looked that, and someone bothered her nap, she sent the man to hospital from femur. You know how hard it to break a femur?”

Joaquin pretended to not even see the looks being directed at him. He lived with Sapphire and he knew how wise it would be to leave her alone. All the Kingpin did, but clearly Sweet Pea didn’t have any self-preservation instincts as the taller serpent stood up and head down the hallway.

A second passed before a loud inhuman screech of anger was heard alongside a high-pitched yelp and something hitting the ground. Fangs jumped from his seat rushing to help his best friend, “Don’t kill him, Saph.”

“Shit,” Joaquin cursed when the sound of Fangs screaming for dear life came a second later. He jumped up ready to help his friends while also trying to figure out how to escape his sister’s rage when said girl came storming out. She had a crazed look in her eyes and her hair was in disarray. She didn’t bother to take off the make up on her face and she was just in her underwear. Literally. She was only in her panties.

“Come get them out of my room and know that the next person that enters won’t be leaving with their life,” she growled before she spun around and left. Joaquin in turned threw a pillow at Archie and Reggie who were both staring after his younger sister. The glare he gave them could’ve scared the devil.

Joaquin walked out the living room and towards his sister’s bedroom only to find her with a pair of Toni’s noise cancellers on and Fangs and Sweet Pea sitting extremely still right by the door eyes never leaving Sapphire.

“What happened,” Joaquin questioned, and two eyes flickered up to him quickly before they were shaking their heads. Joaquin rose a brow before motioning for them to leave the room. The two boys stood quickly, and Joaquin slowly closed his little sister’s door before heading back out towards their friends. -- It was hours later, and the group heard when Sapphire awoken and moved to take a shower. When she finally emerged, she was wearing a stolen t shirt from Jughead and a pair of Sweet Pea’s stolen sweatpants that pooled around her feet, but she walked without even noticing the extra fabric.

Anyone with eyes could see she was still tired even as she moved to sit in the free space beside Joaquin and cuddle into his side. Sweet Pea chuckled, “Tired, Princess?”

“Even Xena needs sleep,” she mumbled as her brother began to run a hand through her hair.

“Someone should tell Tony Stark and Shuri that,” he casually replied and watched as Sapphire’s brow crinkled. She peeked up at him because she swore she heard a conversation similar to this.

[“You’re beautiful yourself princess,” and Sapphire’s nose scrunched up.

“Princess? I’m more Xena than Cinderella.”

She sighed just a little, “You are really pretty,”

“TONI! LOOK AT THIS HOT PIECE OF ASS IN FRONT OF ME!”

Toni pulled away from Cheryl to look at her gem sister and the apparently attractive person in front of her only to come to the sight of Sapphire and Sweet Pea. Toni immediately started laughing. “GO LOOSE, SAPH!”

“No, I-. I’m actually… courting someone at the moment,” he replied sincerely. “I made a mistake and now I just hope she feels the same.”

”You’re way too pretty. I hope the girl you’re courting gives you another chance.”]

Sapphire immediately felt herself flush in embarrassment as her drunken mumbles from two weeks ago finally registered in her mind. She pressed her hands to her eyes as she remembered how much she called Sweet Pea attractive. Not to mention she remembered how disappointed she had felt when he had said he was courting someone. “Kill me now,” she groaned in embarrassment and everyone burst into laughter.

“Oh, come on, Princess. Your words did wonders for my self-esteem,” Sweet Pea teased, and Sapphire shook her head. “I don’t even know how you all put up with me or how I put with you.”

Sweet Pea shrugged with an easy grin, “You are legit one of the best people on this earth.”

Sapphire turned and gave him a shy smile back, but it dropped at his next words as she rolled her eyes with a scoff, “And because you think I’m pretty.” -- The sun was beginning to set when Sweet Pea found Sapphire sitting on top of one of the cliffs at Sweetwater river. Her eyes were trained on the cliff edge that she had been flung off months prior and he watched as a shiver ran through her. But he said nothing as he made his way over and sat down beside her.

Sapphire jumped when she noticed someone beside her and turned to her head to look at Sweet Pea, but his eyes were trained on the setting the sun. She felt her lips twitch as she watched the colors dance across his face before she turned back to forward.

A beat passed before she said, “I wasn’t lying, you know. You really are incredibly pretty.” Sweet Pea smiled but didn’t turn to her knowing that it’d only make her flushing cheeks flush deeper.

“Thank you,” he replied sincerely. Another beat of silence passed before he was going, “Hey, Saph?”

She hummed in acknowledgement and he swallowed thickly wondering if he was brave enough to go through with this. And then she turned her gaze on him and he knew that he would replay this day repeatedly if he could if it meant seeing her with the rays of the fading sun sprawling across her face as the glow of the moon lit up her eyes.

“Do you remember when I was talking about the girl I was courting,” Sweet Pea started, and he watched as Sapphire’s face twitched as she tried to fight off a blush and change her features into something more neutral. She nodded her head slowly. “I was wondering if you could help me woo her so to speak. Not that your suggestions of buying her jewelry and chocolates were bad. I just can’t afford it you know.”

Sapphire huffed out a laugh remembering suggesting he buy Swarovski studded chocolates like they aren’t ten thousand dollars.

“Why do you need my help,” she inquired. She watched as Sweet Pea flushed a little before turning to her full on.

“Like I said before, I made a mistake. I broke her heart, and now I’m trying to fix it.”

“Maybe she doesn’t need fixing.”

Sweet Pea inclined his head in a nod, “Maybe, but it doesn’t mean I’m not willing to try.”

Sapphire turned her head to look at the moon settling shining over the river, “Tell me about her…. Tell me about this girl.”

Sapphire was completely unprepared for the soft look that crossed his features and how his eyes lit up.

“She is… she’s perfection. She has this is ability that I doubt she even notices to light up a room when she smiles and dim the sun when she’s sad. She always has this twinkle in her eye whenever she starts rambling passionately about something that had gained her favor. She’s protective until the point where you would think it was overbearing and annoying, but you know that she’d only want the best and safest things for those she cherishes before herself. Everything about her is confident and smooth. She always in control and with her by my side I feel like I can take on the world…

…And then I messed up and I tried to convince myself that I hated her. That she wasn’t the girl for me. You know that saying about he looked at her like she was the sun? In a way it was true. Except during that time, I never really looked at her except in frustration. I basked in her warmth when she was near. I complained about her when she was gone. But I hadn’t never took the time to look at how my actions affected her when she was gone from my side. On the days she said nothing around, I complained thinking she was being jealous hearted and petty. When she started to resemble the girl I had first met, I hid my emotions from her and tossed my actions in her face…

…Until one day, I stopped and paid attention to her. When I finally manned up and acknowledge that I was wrong. And in the beauty of the sunset, I wondered how I never seen it before…

…She’s a hater but she’s a lover. She will fight, but she has suffered. She can be cold, but she can be warm. Everyone marvels at her beauty, but they glance at her storm…

…She was the girl that was always there. No matter what I did before, she was there to love me even when I didn’t deserve her love. I guess I took that for granted and went on to make a huge mistake that cost me her heart. Because I finally realize that she’s exactly what I need in my life, because she was proof that broken things could still be beautiful…”

He finally stopped and really looked at her only to notice the tears streaming from her eyes. “Saph,” he whispered reaching out for her and she let him instead of flinching back like she used to.

“SP, well never be those kids again,” she muttered before she tried to clear her throat. “She sounds like a good person though.”

“The best,” he replied, and Sapphire didn’t want to look him in the eyes. She knew what she would find. Love and passion and fondness and so many other synonymous words that she couldn’t think of… couldn’t process at the moment because her heart was beating too hard and beating too fast.

“Sapphire,” he whispered, and she took a deep breath and cautiously looked into her eyes. “Be my Pea, again. Be my Sapphire. Please. I want to hear people whispering about us. Sapphire’s Sweet Pea and Sweet Pea’s Sapphire. Please. Give me one more chance.”

“How do I know you won’t hurt me again,” she finally replied. “How do I know you won’t leave me again?”

He took her hands in one of his and lifted her chin with the other. He stared her right in the eyes as he said, “Because you’re it for me. I know where still just teenagers in high school. But I doubt that there is literally even another person in this universe that was made for me and me for them like you. I can’t be without you, Sapphire, whether as your friend or your boyfriend. Either way, my heart… my soul… my very existence will always belong to you.”

Tears trailed down her face even quicker as she tried to turn away, “You’re a goddamn sap. You know that?”

She took a deep breath before looking at him once again, “One chance, SP. I’m giving you one last chance. Don’t make me regret it.”

And the smile that lit up his face had her believing even for the moment that she doubt he could even try, and when he kissed her, she swore it felt like ending one chapter and the beginning of another.

[filmfanatic82]

The Long Game (Chapt 3: Fusing Pink with Green)

AO3 Link (HERE)

Chapter 3: Fusing Pink with Green

“Explain it to me again why I can’t go back to my own apartment?” Trini huffs out from the confines of the bed as she mindless flips through the endless array of channels on the tv.

“It’s not safe,” Kim replies without missing a beat. She makes her way around the suite, unceremoniously collecting her belongings and stuffing them into a beat up army duffle.

“You’re like a fuckin’ broken record, Hart.” Trini stops flipping, reaches into her jeans pocket and produces a yellow power coin. “I’ve got one of these as well. Remember? I can take care of myself.”

Kim stops at the sight of Trini’s power coin as a look of shock crosses her face. “You still have it?”

“Yeah. Tried to give it up once or twice but Jason wouldn’t let me.”

“Can you still…,” Kim trails off, not really knowing how to finish her sentence.

“No. Not in years. You?”

There’s something about Trini’s last word that snaps Kim right out of her momentarily trance and back into the reality of the situation. Truthfully, she doesn’t know how to even begin to answer that.

Straight up morphing? Like they used to do back when they were a team? No. Kim hasn’t been able to do that since that fated day eight years ago in Angel Grove.

Not like she hasn’t tried to. God, how Kim has tried. Time and time again. But that ability seemed to just disappear into thin air the moment she left everyone behind.

But there are other things… Things that Kim has discovered she can do throughout the years that simply can’t be described with mere words. Things that need to be seen to be fully understood.

“No,” Kim quietly responds as she goes back to packing. A moment passes and then--

WHACK.

Kim is blindsided by a throw pillow to the head. “Jesus. What the hell?”

“I need to go back to my place.”

“Not happening.”

“Then what the hell am I gonna wear? Huh? Doubt this is just gonna be a day trip.”

“Here.” Kim grabs a nearby gray v-neck t-shirt and tosses it back at Trini, hitting her square in the face.

Annoyed, Trini clicks off the TV and pushes herself up into a sitting position. Her hands wrap around the edges of the soft t-shirt, holding it up in front of her body and gives it a once over. It’s big. Not comically too big, but just big enough for it to be uncomfortable. “I don’t do dresses.”

“It’s not that big.”

“I need my own clothes, Hart.” Trini replies, balling the t-shirt up and tossing it back in Kim’s direction.

“Fine. I’ll get you new ones.”

“No offense, but I don’t trust you buying clothes for me.”

“Why not?”

Trini doesn’t respond. She simply gives Kim a head to toe once over with her eyes and then comes to rest with a judgemental stare. “Cause I’ve seen your wardrobe.”

Suddenly, hit with a wave of self-consciousness, Kim tugs on the ends of her generic black t-shirt, taking a moment to thoroughly it. Sure, her style has hardened over the years into something else. Something that uniquely feels right. Swapping her old high school style slowly over time for a simple uniform of leather and t-shirts accompanied by a few pieces of silver jewelry here and there. It’s nothing special and yet, it fits Kim like a glove.

“There’s nothing wrong with my wardrobe.” Kim pushes down her doubts with a hard swallow and then straightens herself up a bit in an attempt to give off the appearance of not caring.

“Sure. If you’re planning on spending the next decade on the back of a Harley Davidson.”

“It’s a Suzuki.”

“What is?”

“My bike,” Kim says with an exhale of breath as she runs her hands through her extra messy locks. “It’s a Suzuki.”

A small, uncontrollable laugh erupts from Trini’s lips. “Of course it is.”

Without another word, Trini slides off the bed, slips back on her flip flops, and then heads straight towards Kim with a sudden resolution that is more than a bit unnerving.

“What are you…,” Kim trails off trying to read Trini’s face.

“You done?” Trini motions downwards to the army green duffle in Kim’s hands.

Kim opens her mouth to respond but can’t seem to find her words. Not with Trini this close to her.

Suddenly, the distinct scent of vanilla mixed with a bit of jasmine fills Kim’s nostrils, triggering an overwhelming rush of emotions. She closes her eyes for a brief moment, in a feeble attempt to ground herself. But the scent is just too powerful.

It seeps into Kim, invading every ounce of her being, willing her to make a move. To simply reach out, wrap her hands around Trini’s waist, and pull her closer until their bodies are touching.

“Kimberly?”

The sound of Kim’s name-- her full name-- instantly brings her back to reality. Her eyes pop back open and she gives Trini a slight nod. “Yeah. I’m done.”

“Good.” Trini grabs hold of Kim’s duffle bag, hoists it over her shoulder, and then without another moment’s hesitation, starts to head towards the door. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” Kim calls out, still frozen in her spot.

“You’ll see,” Trini responds with a hint of a playful smirk.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Less than an hour later, Kim finds herself trapped in her own mini version of hell on earth… Target.

Overly bright lights. Endless sea of useless, colorful crap. Irksome people pushing and shoving their way through the aisles with their annoying loud shopping carts. Everything about these types of places make Kim’s skin crawl. The simulation is just too much. Too many unknown variables for her to predict.

“You look miserable,” Trini points out as she casually pushes her cart through intricate maze of clothing racks. She takes her time, checking out the wide array of tops, all a far cry from her high school days of flannels and oversized band t-shirts.

“I’m fine.” Kim rolls her shoulders and gives her neck a quick, but audible crack, trying to shake off her impending anxiety. She drums her fingers on a nearby shelf filling the void with a steady tinging sound as her rings hit against the cool metal.

“Right.” Trini picks up a pale yellow scoop neck top, giving it a once over, before tossing it into the cart. “Biker chick Kimberly doesn’t do shopping?”

“No. It’s not that. Just not of fan of these types of places.”

“What? Like Target? How can you not like Target? Everyone likes Target.”

“Not me,” Kim mutters under her breath as she moves towards another shelf farther away from Trini. Every fiber of her being desperately craves to just open up and explain why, but she knows better. This isn’t the time nor the place.

Especially not in a place like this.

Instead, Kim turns her attention to something else… someone else to be more precise. To Trini.

Kim silently focuses in on Trini, watching as she holds up two different tops, comparing the price tags. And as she does, the rest of the ever present distractions seem to melt away. The world around Kim goes completely and utterly quiet, as if someone has randomly hit the mute button.

After years of practice, tapping into her powers has become almost second nature to Kim. Like flipping a switch. Select a target, focus for a few moments, and then the rest always seems to take care of itself. There just isn’t a better explanation for it.

It tends to develop in Kim’s mind like a polaroid picture. Fuzzy at first, but as seconds tick by, edges sharpen and objects become more defined. Sometimes it’s just a flash. The briefest of glimpses into an image or even an idea. And other times, it’s so much more. Images so intense that they linger for days-- even months-- at a time.

“If you like it, you should get both. And that pink one you put back ten minutes ago as well.” Kim nonchalantly flips through a rack, barely paying attention to the tops as she does. It’s not about the tops. It’s about the mere act of doing something. Something that’s mundane and normal.

“How did you…” Trini trails off as a look of utter confusion sweeps across her face.

Kim knows that look. No. She more than knows it. Kim dreads it.

It’s the look that happens whenever someone gets hit with the eerie sensation that their mind has just been read.

“Just a guess,” Kim quietly replies, once again moving herself farther away from Trini.

An awkward silence falls between the two of them as Kim wanders from rack to rack without any real purpose or reason. Anything to avoid those two chocolate brown eyes that are currently boring into the back of her skull.

Kim makes her way over to a nearby display of hats and instantly spots a plain yellow beanie. She scoops it up, examines it for a moment or two, then tosses it towards Trini’s cart.

“Who’s this for?” Trini fishes the beanie out from the sea of tops and jeans and holds it up.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I owe you one. Never got around to replacing that one of yours I lost at the quarry,” Kim responds with a light shrug of her shoulders.

A small but noticeable smile crawls across Trini’s lips as the memory washes over her like a warm, gentle wave. “Forgot about that.”

“I didn’t.” Kim catches Trini’s eyes and returns the smile.

“Toss me another one. Just in case your ass loses this one too.”

Kim bends down to grab another yellow beanie when suddenly--

WEE-HOO. WEE-HOO.

The store alarm blared over the loud speakers at an ear splitting level, practically drowning out all other ambient noises.

“Fuckin’ shoplifters,” Trini mutters under her breath as she continues to shop, completely unphased.

Kim, though, doesn’t hear her. She can’t. The screech of the alarm invades Kim’s brain, blocking all other rational and sane thoughts. The thoughts that keep the deep, darker urges at bay.

Kim hunches over, hands gripping onto her knees for dear life. Her breath quicken as beads of sweat start to form at her hairline.

“Kimberly?” Trini’s voices calls out in a faint, tinny echo as if she’s hundreds of yards away.

“Princess… Princess… Princess…,” Kim chants under her breath as she feels the tremors radiate up her arms. Her knees slightly buckle under her body weight but moving isn’t an option. Kim knows better. She has to just focus. Breath and focus.

“Kim?”

And then there’s a touch. Just the lightest of fingertips against Kim’s shoulder blade, but it’s enough.

The shred of control that Kim has been desperately clawing to hold onto instantly crumbles, slipping out of her grasp like grains of sand. She feels the undiluted anger plow through her veins at an inhuman like pace.  

“Don’t touch me!” Kim growls as she rips her body away from Trini’s hand. A distinct flash of green light burst forth from her eyes, creating a minor halo effect around her face.

Trini recoils in a mixture of shock and fear, not fully knowing what to do or say.

But it doesn’t matter. Kim seizes the opportunity to push herself upright and then without another moment’s hesitation, bolts from the store.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Master Kimberly, you need to lay still,” Alpha 5 chirps as he repositions Kimberly’s arm back into the designated strap.

“Right. Sorry.” Kimberly lets out a nervous breath of air and swallows thickly. She tries to focus in on anything else in the world except for the fact that she’s currently being strapped down to a large metal table by a zillion year old robot. Easier said than done.

“Kimberly, before we start, there are a few things we need to--”

“No,” Kimberly cuts Zordon off with a definitive tone to her voice. “We’ve been through this already. I don’t want to know.”

“I know, but there are some critical elements that you must understand. Your essence is about to be fused with one of the most powerful evil forces in all of existence. And with it will come unforeseen powers that you nor the other rangers have yet to experience. Powers that if left unchecked will consume you.” Zordon pauses for a moment to let the weight of his words fully sink in.

“I’ll lose myself.” Kimberly closes her eyes as wave after wave of fear mixed with anxiety crashes down upon her. She swallows down the ever growing lump in her throat and blinks back a hint of tears.

“Kimberly, you don’t have to--”

“Just get it over with, okay?” And with those words, Kimberly lays her head firmly back down on the table and gives a nod of confirmation to Alpha 5.

Alpha 5 moves forward and affixes the final head strap, giving Kimberly a gentle pat on the shoulder as he does. “It’ll be over before you know it, Master Kimberly.”

“Thanks Alpha.” Kimberly forces a smile and then with a deep sobering breath, shuts her eyes once again, bracing herself for what’s to come.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Kim sits on the curb outside of Target, arms folded up against her knees, just watching the steady stream of shoppers pass by. She barely moves with the exception of the occasional blink or two, almost appearing to be in a deep, meditative state.

A moment passes and then--

“Fuck it.” Kim exhales a deep breath of air and runs her hands through her hair, tucks a stray lock or two behind her ear in the process. Her hands instinctively grope the inner breast pocket of her leather jacket, searching for something, and then, like magic, produces a beat-up pack of cigarettes and sleek silver lighter. Kim snags a single cigarette from the pack, pops it into her lips, and flings the light open with a graceful flick of her wrist. She watches the flames dance for a moment or two in front of her face. There’s something hypnotic about it. The vibrant oranges and reds against the bland concrete colored background. Almost magical.

Kim leans forward, dipping the tip of the cigarette into the flames. But before it can light up--

A hand reaches in, snatching the cigarette straight from Kim’s lips.

“Yeah, no. Not fuckin’ happening, Hart.”

Surprised, Kim glances up to find that the hand belongs to Trini. “Hey. I--”

“When the hell did you take up smoking? Do you know how insanely bad these things are for you? You’ve got a history of asthma,” Trini cuts Kim off with a harsh, almost parental, tone to her voice.

“Who’s the mom, now?” Kim responds as a small smirk crawls across her face. She flicks the lighter closed and puts it back into her inner pocket. “And I don’t. Not normally. I just have one every now and then to help take the edge off. Especially when things get intense.”

The meaning of these last words instantly softens Trini. She lets out an exasperated sigh and then takes a seat next to Kim on the curb. “You’re talkin’ about what happened back in there?”

Kim gives the slightest of nods in response. She stares out once again onto the stream of shoppers, unable to bring herself to look Trini in the eyes. She knows that if she does, there will be no holding back. No secrets left untold.

The two sit in silence for a moment or two, then--

“It’s still bad, isn’t it?”

“Depends on the day and the situation.” Kim shifts a bit, kicking a nearby rock with the toe of her black leather boot. “Most of the time it’s fine.”

“You know we could’ve helped. Me, Jase, Billy, Zack. I’m sure Zordon and Alpha could’ve figured out what caused this with one or two of those scans they used to do on us. Hell, maybe even found a cure for it,” Trini responds with an ever so slight tremble as she fights back her emotions.

And there it is. The singular lie Kim’s been holding onto for the last eight years. The root of everything that has transpired so far and the sole way they will-- or hopefully will-- survive what’s to come. Her green-tinted cross to bare.

If only Kim could reveal the truth to Trini. She’s thought about it almost every single day since leaving Angel Grove. But with the truth comes the risk of jeopardizing the plan… and then the last eight years worth of painstaking sacrifice after sacrifice would all be for nothing.

No. The lie needs to remain in place. Just a little while longer. Until Kim is 100% sure they’ll survive… Until it’s over.

“There’s no cure.” Kim sits motionless, letting the half-truth linger between the two of them. She fidgets with one of her silver rings, trying to keep herself distracted from the skin-crawling silence. Waiting for Trini to say something… anything.

But the response never comes. Trini simply gets up off of the curb, brushes off her jeans, and then extends her hand to Kim in an offer to help her up.

Kim stares at Trini’s hand for a second, not fully sure what to make of it. Is it acceptance? Understanding? Or something else? Her mind cycles through the million and one ways to interpret this simple gesture, but can’t seem to land on the reason.

“I'm not gonna bite, Hart,” Trini says while moving her hand a bit closer to Kim.

Kim reaches up, wraps her fingers around Trini’s soft hand, and takes hold, allowing the small Latina to pull her up off of the curb. She’s forgotten just how strong Trini really is, both mentally and physically.

“Good. Now c’mon, moneybags. You need to pay for my stuff.”

“Who says I’m paying?” Kim responds with a slight chuckle.

“Oh you’re paying. You’re paying for this entire freakin’ mission. So you better get used to whipping out the benjamins.” With that, Trini starts to walk back towards the store entrance, leaving Kim standing there with a small but genuine smile on her face.

It feels like a start of something…

[impala-dreamer]

Back In Black

SPN FanFic

~ The Winchesters travel to Louisiana to help out an old friend and Dean gets a moment of happiness before the walls come crashing back down.~

Dean x Reader, Sam

4,803 Words

Warnings: Possible tiny spoiler for 12x12. Blood. Angst. Pain. Sad. Also happiness, romance, implications of activities sexual in nature. Everything but the kitchen sink. 

A/N: This is for my dear buddy Meg, @megansescape for her 300 followers celebration. My song prompt was “Back in Black” by AC/DC. I didn’t use it how you might think ;) Huge thank you to my poodle @idreamofhazel for reading this over and for helping save the entire thing from being tossed into the shredder. Hope you enjoy! Let me know whatcha think! 

Blood. There was so much blood. Her blood. It poured from her mouth, her sides, the cuts on her arms, the hole in her chest. It coated Dean’s hands and dripped down his shirt as he cradled her in his arms. She was gone.

“Dean!” Sam’s voice boomed throughout the room but Dean could barely hear him. It was muted and distant; nothing could break through the cloud of pain and grief that surrounded Dean as he lay on the cold ground rocking her to his chest. Sam knelt down, falling to his knees next to Y/N’s limp form, tears filling his eyes. “Dean, what did you do?”

They were back on the road where they belonged. Witches, demons, it didn’t much matter what lie ahead; Dean was happy to put the Big Bad aside for a while and focus on the small stuff. Mary had disappeared again after the crap with Ramiel, and frankly he was glad to see her go. She’d put them all in danger, hell, Cas had almost died, and he couldn’t stand to look her in the eye after.

When Y/N had called, asking for help on a case, he’d been more than happy to load up the car and take the thirteen hour drive to Louisiana. The wind and the road helped clear his head, helped him push away the questions and distrust that bloomed in his gut.

Sam tried to get him to talk about it, to verbally work through the issue, but each time he opened his mouth, Dean turned the radio up a little higher until Sam got the message. AC/DC blasted from the speakers and filled the car. Dean sang along, tapping his hands against the wheel, letting the song sweep him away. It was his theme song today, his entrance music into the next story. He was back in action; back in black, back to the old days before things got complicated and everything was shades of gray. Back when bad guys were bad guys, people were good, and Dean could tell the difference.

They pulled into the Sunrise Motel and Dean cut the engine. Before Sam could ask which room was hers, a door a few rooms down swung open and Y/N stepped out into the sunshine. She leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed casually across her chest, but her smile betrayed her excitement. It’d been at least three years since she’d see the boys, and her heart raced with anticipation.

The doors creaked loudly as the Winchesters exited the Impala, and Y/N started towards them, meeting Dean halfway and jumping into his outstretched arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist as his hands gripped her back and thighs and they fell into a kiss as if no time had ever passed. Sam stood by, rolling his eyes, but secretly enjoying the smile that filled his brother’s face. Dean was do for some unadulterated attention, and he knew how much Y/N cared for him.

They broke away after a long minute and she climbed down, adjusting her tight green shirt and turning towards Sam. She smiled broadly and opened her arms. “Sam! I missed you so much,” she said as her hands locked around his shoulders and forced him down to her level.

He hugged her tightly and laughed, “It’s good to see you too Y/N.”

“So, what’s got you stumped Princess?” Dean wiped at the corners of his mouth with one hand as he watched her attack his brother.

Y/N stepped away and took a deep breath. “Demons, dude.” She shrugged, “at least I’m pretty sure.” She shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and rocked on her heels, looking back and forth between the two hunters. “Man, it’s good to see you guys. Ya’ll wanna get a drink or just get down to it?”

They replied in tandem but with different answers, Sam opting to get down to business while Dean took the leisurely approach.

Y/N laughed, “Lucky for you, we can do both.”

The bar was just down the street and mostly empty since it was two o’clock on a Tuesday. The trio piled into a booth, Y/N sliding in next to Dean, his arm falling around her shoulder naturally. They looked good together, Sam thought. She was good for him: tough, charming, smart and caring. But she was also fiercely independent and stubborn, which worried Sam and made him nervous about the case. If she was asking for help, she really needed it. She would never use something like this as an excuse just to cozy up to his brother.

Two rounds of beer and three years worth of catch up stories later, they finally got down to business.

“I know it sounds stupid, but I’m really stuck. I’ve never seen demons work like this. I was almost sure for a while it was witches, but the evidence is pushing me away from all that.” Y/N leaned her elbows on the table, picking at the label on her empty bottle as she spoke. “It presents as murder/suicides. married couples literally ripping each other apart. They’re found beaten and bloody, seemingly by each other’s hands. One of them kills the other, then offs themselves right after. Three couples in the last two weeks. I’ve checked for everything, hex bags, cursed objects, ties to any suspicious people; nothing pans out.”

“So you think they’re being possessed?” Sam asked, leaning forward in his seat.

Y/N shook her head, “No. That’s the other thing; no sulfur. No strange behavior leading up to it. No witnesses. No nothing.”

“What makes you think it’s a demon then?” Dean turned, leaning on the table to get a better look at Y/N. He rested his cheek on his hand and drew his bottom lip through his teeth as he stared at her.

Y/N took a deep breath, her shoulders falling as she exhaled, looking worn and defeated. “Honestly, I don’t know. What else could it be?”

Sam’s eyes raised towards the dim ceiling, his lips turning down at the corners as he thought. “Maybe some pissed off god, or a rogue cupid?”

Y/N laughed solemnly, “Cupid?”

“Don’t laugh, those guys are…” Dean shivered, remembering the naked hugger from years ago. “Anyway, don’t worry Y/N. We’ll figure this out and get you back on the road in no time.” He smiled, flashing his pearly whites at her.

She turned, adopting his pose, her head resting on her hand as she returned the smile. “Hopefully not too soon,” she said, placing her free hand on his thigh and squeezing gently. “We have some more catching up to do, don’tcha think?”

Dean’s eyes grew wide and he licked his lip, his body reacting quickly to her flirtatious touch. Across the table, Sam coughed in annoyance, attempting to break apart their foreplay. Dean looked away, clearing his throat and raising a hand towards the bar, “Check please!”

The motel was thankfully empty and Sam snagged a room across the parking lot from Y/N’s. He set to work right away, pouring over the Men of Letter’s files on his tablet, trying to keep his mind off the debauchery surely taking place across the way.

By sunrise, he had narrowed his search down to two possibilities, and he shut his eyes, allowing himself a few moments to recharge before the day truly began. Kicking off his shoes, he collapsed onto the closest bed and stretched out, hanging his long limbs off the sides, letting his fingers rest midair. Just as sleep tugged at his eyes, a fist began pounding upon his door.

“Go away!” he mumbled and turned his face away, retracting his arms and gathering up the pillow beneath his head. He buried his face in the synthetic down and curled into it, hoping the disturbance outside would leave him be.

“Sammy! Move your ass!” Dean bellowed from beyond the door, his fist connecting with the thin barrier once again.

With a heavy groan, Sam lifted himself from the mattress and unlocked the door, returning almost immediately to his pillow. Dean walked in, a tray of coffee cups in his hand and Y/N bouncing behind him.

They were wide awake, relaxed and happy; sappy smiles filling their faces as they took seats across from each other at the little round table by the door. Dean pulled a cup from the paper tray and held it out towards Sam. “Drink up Sleeping Beauty, we’ve got work to do.”

Y/N laughed quietly at the sneer Sam threw at Dean as he sat up at took the coffee. “Thanks.”

“You look exhausted sweetie,” Y/N teased, taking as sip of her own brew.

“I was up all night doing research while you two were…” Sam paused, waving a hand in their direction. “Whatever.”

“Oh it was a little more than ‘whatever’,” she said with a wink. Dean’s hand fell to the table, brushing against hers and she lifted it up, lacing their fingers together. Dean sighed and they fell into staring again, quite content to let their eyes do the talking. Dean’s thumb traced her lifeline, running gently across the crease in her palm. She held his gaze, her cheeks taking on a rosy glow under his inspection.

“Anyone want to know what I found out?” Sam’s hands and brows were raised in question, annoyed that they had woken him up just to ignore him.

Dean mumbled in response, a barely audible “Sure” passing his lips.

Y/N blushed and looked away, finally turning her attention to Sam, “What’dja find Big Guy?”

“Arawyn of Llangollen,” he said, wiping a hand down his tired face.

“A what of a who?” Dean asked, dropping Y/N’s hand as he turned towards Sam.

“Actually a who of a where,” Sam corrected. “Just, read it, it’s right there.” he put his coffee on the nightstand and laid back down, covering his eyes with one arm slung over his face.

Y/N shrugged and picked up the tablet, scrolling through Sam’s notes, getting the gist of the information.

“Arawyn of Llangollen was a powerful witch who terrorized the Welsh village back in the 1100s,” she spoke quickly and without emotion as she read, almost robotically absorbing the information. “She cursed happy couples to incite discourse, often ending in…ah.”

“Ah?” Dean lifted his eyes up from her lips where they had been stationed, watching with unabashed hunger as she spoke.

“The couples fought until they killed each other. Like, gruesomely killed each other. Eww, there’s sketches…” Y/N tilted the screen so Dean could see a rather crude drawing of a man ripping his wife’s head off of her shoulders.

Dean’s eyebrows raised and he frowned, “Hmm. So this is good, how do we kill her?”

Sam piped up from the bed, “There’s nothing to kill. She’s been dead for almost a century; the files are very clear that the case is closed. She was dealt with. Permanently.”

“So why are we talking about her?”

“Copycat or something?” Y/N put the computer down and looked over at sleepy Sam, waiting for an answer.

He huffed and sat up, pushing his pillow away. “Or something I guess. Haven’t quite worked that out yet.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Dean stood up and moved around his chair, leaning his hands on the back, “Let’s get moving!”

“There’s nowhere to go Dean, dead end.” Sam was up, rocking on his feet, his frustration evident on throughout his features. He ran a hand through his long chestnut hair and sighed as it came to rest on the back of his neck. “We just have to… wait and see what happens.”

“I told ya I was stuck,” Y/N sat back, slapping her hands on her denim clad thighs. “What’d you think I called you for?”

Dean laughed, the relaxed smile pulling at his face, lifting his lips and crinkling the delicate skin around his eyes. “I just figured you missed me,” Dean winked.

Y/N pursed her lips and blew him a kiss, “You know it baby.”

Sam growled and threw himself back down on the bed. “Could you two take your flirting someplace else so I can take take a nap please?”

They left Sam alone and went out for a walk. It wasn’t a very Dean thing to do, and actually wasn’t a very Y/N thing either. Still, they spent the rest of the morning walking hand in hand through the town, occasionally stopping to linger near a shop window or settle on a bench, content to sit in the warm sunshine and watch the townsfolk shuffle about their day.

It was strange, taking time like this in the middle of a case, but truly there was nothing to be done but wait. Y/N had done all the legwork the week before, visited all the victim’s families, interviewed every witness, examined every crime scene. All they could do was wait.

While it was unusual, Dean kind of liked it. He liked how easy it was to relax with Y/N, how naturally their footfalls fell into sync, how warm and peaceful it felt when her head rested on his shoulder. He found it so relaxing Dean had to remind himself not to get used to it. In the end they’d wrap the case and take off down different highways once again.

They enjoyed a late lunch at Mabel’s Diner when Dean’s stomach growled a bit more than could be ignored. Bacon cheeseburgers and milkshakes; solidifying the day as one for a 1950’s dating manual.

When they ran out of Main Street, they kept on walking, soon finding themselves in a grove of pecan trees. Golden and orange light filtered through the pale green leaves, reminding the couple just how long they’d been out. Even with sunset approaching, neither was quite ready to get back to the real world. The day had been too perfect, too lovely, too free of monsters and blood. A little vacation of the mind where they could allow themselves to dream of something better.

“We should probably get back,” Y/N said sadly, pausing in the aisle of trees, looking over her shoulder at the town they’d left behind. “Sam might need us.”

“Sam would have called.” Dean tugged her hand, pulling her close with the swift motion. She fell against his chest, her hands caught between them, fingers sliding under his shirt to dance over his collarbone. Very slowly Dean dipped his head, capturing her lips in a sweet kiss. His hand found her face, his thumb tracing the hollow of her cheek while they breathed into each other, the fading sunlight bathing them in a fiery glow.

Dean’s arm wrapped around her, his left hand pressing into the curve of her lower back. He walked her slowly backwards, their lips still locked together, his tongue sweeping lovingly over hers. Y/N let out a tiny moan when her back hit the tree trunk, and another as Dean covered her with his body, inch for inch pressing his weight on top of her. She melted against him, giving herself over to his whim, the flames of desire growing hotter inside of her.

Lips moved, hands roamed, hearts pounded; their actions making them both dizzy with passion. Too engrossed in the moment, neither heard the snap of the tree branch in the distance, nor felt the torrent of wind swirl around them; it wasn’t until it was too late that either hunter noticed a shift in the air.

Sam woke around noon, rested and ready to go. He returned to his notes, looking over everything with a fresh eye. As he downed the last dregs of his cold coffee, his vision passed over the crime scene photos once more, this time pulling out the similarity that he and Y/N had overlooked before. In every photo, lying next to the butchered woman, was a small wooden coin; easily passed over if you looked too quickly. Sam recognized it now and his heart stopped. He knew what they were dealing with, and it was no witch from the past.

Dean opened his eyes, squinting as a harsh light burned in the darkness. A single bulb hung from the ceiling above him, and he shielded his eyes, trying to take stock of his surroundings.

His head was swimming as he sat up, a deep ringing filling his ears. He was alone, it seemed, in a damp basement, the smell of mold and ancient dirt drifting through the air. “Y/N?” He climbed to his feet as he called to her, still disoriented from the attack. One moment they were going at it in an orchard, and the next he was waking up concussed in a windowless pit.

“Dean.”

He spun around, turning towards the sweet voice that spoke his name. Y/N stood calmly at the far end of the room, the dim light barely touching her face. She smiled and stepped forward, her lips pulled back into a malicious grin.

“What happened, where are we?” Dean moved towards her, his legs weak and unsteady. He stumbled forward, his head knocking into the low light, sending it swinging back and forth, casting eerie rays around the muddy walls.

“I got tired of the game Dean, figured it was time to end it.”

Dean shook his head, trying to focus on her face, but his eyes were blurry, almost shaking in his skull. Something was very wrong but he couldn’t pinpoint the source. “What game? What are you-” He froze, looking up at Y/N as she blinked slowly, her eyes opening to reveal total darkness. “No.”

“Oh yes Dean,” she laughed, her voice taking on a dark edge he’d never heard before. “You call yourself a hunter but you had no idea your little girlfriend was a demon, did you?”

He swallowed hard, his head still spinning. “This isn’t real. There’s no way.”

“You’re an idiot Dean. Always have been.” Y/N walked around him slowly, keeping him at arm’s length. “Even Y/N knew that, but she didn’t care. You were just an easy lay when she was bored. That’s not to say she didn’t enjoy herself. God knows I did last night.”

Dean balled his fists, his jaw clenching tightly as the demon taunted him. He shut his eyes tight and took a deep breath, summoning up his courage and pushing away the shock. “Exorcizamus te,” Dean began, speaking low and determined, but his words were cut short as Y/N’s hand gripped his short hair, pulling his head back painfully.

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed, her lips grazing his ear.

“Oh yeah, why not?” Dean scoffed, his attitude surfacing partially beneath the fear and worry flooding through his system.

Y/N released her grip on his head and walked around to face him. She tilted her head and smirked as she lifted her shirt, revealing a gaping wound in her stomach. It oozed fresh blood, dripping down slowly onto her her pants. “If I go, your girl goes. I made sure of that.”

Dean’s heart sank, his shoulders fell and he dropped his head; this was impossible, an insane nightmare made real. He gritted his teeth and looked up, staring hard into black eyes. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus-” Dean gasped as Y/N’s fist connected with his jaw, snapping his head back and causing the loud ringing to return to his ears.

“I said,” She struck him again, another fist to his face, this one landing under his left eye. “Don’t,” she clawed at his shirt, pulling him up and striking him a third time. “Do that!” A headbutt sent him flying backwards, the edges of his vision darkening as he collapsed to the ground.

He crawled to his knees, his knuckles pressing into the cold concrete as he panted, trying to catch his breath.

“You should just stay down Dean. Stay down and die like a good boy.” She hovered above, her lips spewing venom down upon him. Dean’s muscles tensed and he shot up, knocking into her with all his strength, sending her backwards into the hard wall. She landed with a huff, all of the air expelling from her lungs.

She laughed. Dean sneered as Y/N’s beautiful face was contorted with the demon’s hateful cackle. He lunged forward, fist aloft, prepared to put an end to the nightmare.

“Dean, it’s not a demon. Where are you?” Sam spoke into his phone as he sped away from the motel; the Impala’s tires screeching and leaving thick black marks on the pavement. He hung up and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. Neither Dean nor Y/N were answering and he’d left enough voicemails. He’d just have to take care of this himself.

Once he’d figured out what they were after, he’d been able to link everything back to a coven of witches living out by Bell’s Pecan Orchard. If he’d identified the coin correctly, and he was sure he had, they were a coven of Arawyn’s followers; proteges who followed in the witch’s footsteps, passing down her spells through the generations. The coin was their calling card, a talisman left behind as proof of their works. Well, today it would be their undoing.  

Dean’s fist drove into Y/N’s face again and again, pushing blood up from the cuts his knuckles left on her cheekbones and around her eyes. Her nose flowed freely, coating her mouth and neck in the crimson mess. No matter what he did to her, she laughed; black eyes mocking him, making him long for Y/E/C.

“Give it up Dean. You can’t win this. If you kill me, Y/N dies. Then where will you be? All sad and depressed and guilty as always.” She smiled as a glimmer of joy passed over her face. “Oh, you should kill yourself. That would end all that silly little pain. Death would be a blessing to you Dean. Can you picture it?”

“Shut up!” Dean screamed, his hand closing around Y/N’s throat, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her neck. She gasped and clawed at his hand, but the evil smile never left her lips. The black eyes remained fixed on his face.

Sam burst through the house, his gun held high, witch killing bullets loaded and ready. He stalked through the rooms until he found the trio of witches sitting around an altar in the dark. They chanted over candles, an ancient cloth spread over their table, it’s archaic lettering worn and faded with time.

Y/N’s lips were turning blue; her nails scratched at Dean’s arm, desperate to pull him away. He held on, squeezing tighter, feeling her windpipe buckle under his grasp. Suddenly her smile faded away, the clipped laughter ceased, and her eyes returned to their usual sparkling color. Dean gasped and released her, stepping back in shock as Y/N was seemingly returned to him.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” he yelled, his hands falling to her shoulders in an attempt to steady her. She coughed, rubbing at her neck with shaking hands as she caught her breath. “Are you OK? Jesus!”

Y/N brought her hands up quickly, knocking his hands off of her shoulders. She cracked her neck, tipping her head to each side before looking up at Dean, the blackness returning to her eyes. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you? I mean, come on!” She laughed and struck him, hitting the bridge of his nose with her forearm. He doubled over, clutching his face as the blood poured out. “Let’s just finish this.”

Dean bent down and pulled his knife from his boot, gripping the handle tightly as he stood up and drove the blade into Y/N’s chest, piercing her heart.  

Gunshots rang out above Dean’s head followed by the thuds of solid masses hitting the floor. He held Y/N, one hand clutching her shoulder, holding her still as he twisted the knife in her chest. He expected to slow her down, to hold her still so he could continue the exorcism, but something was wrong. The darkness faded from her eyes and she gasped, sucking in a desperate breath of air. The smile fell away and her mouth dropped open in shock. “Dean…”

The fog clouding his mind lifted and Dean blinked furiously, his eyes darting about her face as he realized what was happening. She was no demon, no hellish force was keeping her alive; she was real, she was his, and now…

Y/N’s head fell back and her knees buckled as her body went limp; the blood pumping organ halted forever, stopped mid beat. Her last breath escaped slowly as Dean fell to the ground with her; it passed her lips as a whimper before her voice was no more.

Dean shook, his hands trembling as he ran his fingers down her face, passing over the deep bruises and cuts made by his fists. The blood caked on her skin, standing out in stark contrast as the color left her cheeks and lips, turning her a ghastly gray.

“No. No, no, no.” Quivering lips pleading with no one, begging to the empty air for help. “Y/N please…” He shut his eyes tight, willing himself to wake up, to find this just another one of his horrid dreams, but the feel of her warm blood soaking into his shirt, running down his arm, told him his wish would remain unfulfilled.

Slowly he pulled the blade from her chest, tears spilling freely as a bubble of blood followed the stained metal. He lost it then, raising his face to the rotting ceiling and screaming into the darkness; the vocal manifestation of his pain and guilt filling the dank space.

Sam was checking for a pulse on the body of the last witch when he heard it: his brother’s voice wailing from below. He froze, his muscles tensing as he realized what it could mean. He hadn’t known they were there, hadn’t even thought to look for them.

He flew through the house, finding a stairwell behind a pantry door in the kitchen towards the rear of the house. His long legs carried him quickly down the steep stairs; the moldy wood bowing and creeking under his weight.

Sam found them on the floor against a far wall, the single lightbulb offering a meager beam of illumination. Still, Sam could see clearly the terrible scene before him: Y/N bloody and gone, cradled to Dean’s chest, the knife still clutched in his hand.

“Dean, what did you do?”

They were back on the road again, Sam driving while Dean slept. He’d passed out not long ago, dehydration and exhaustion from his tears getting the best of him. He hadn’t stopped, hadn’t spoken or eaten since they’d burned her body, scattering her ashes amidst the pecan trees.

Curse or no, Sam knew Dean had been broken by this. He had killed the only girl he’d ever really loved; the only woman who could bring him peace in their crazy life. Whether he’d admit it to Sam or even to himself, Dean would be forever haunted by his actions, scarred by the witch’s curse, hating himself for the life he’d taken.

Dean’s eyes fluttered open as the setting sun hit his face; another day gone, another mile driven. He sat up and rubbed a hand down his face, wiping the lingering grains of sleep from his eyes.

“You OK Dean?”

“I’m fine, Sam.” His voice was low and quiet as he turned his attention out the window, not wanting to submit to questioning just yet.

Sam ignored his answer and pressed on, “Dean, you know it wasn’t your fault. The witches… it was a curse; an illusion. It wasn’t-”

“I said I’m fine, Sam,” he snapped, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he grit his teeth.

“You’re not fine, Dean. You need to-”

Dean turned the dial on the radio, drowning Sam’s words under Angus Young’s guitar riff as his song filled the car once again. Dean sighed and pressed his head back against the seat, staring up at the roof, praying the tears would stay down where he put them.

The joy of the song failed to touch him this time; there was no go get ‘em attitude anymore. Just the color that washed over his heart. He was back, back in black. Back in the darkness that never seemed to truly leave him. He didn’t know why he even tried anymore; as soon as he saw the sun, the black would inevitably return.

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