#no wonder i automatically repress it to the point of forgetting. until something puts me in a vulnerable position again

[robinsnest2111]

slowly (once again) coming to the realisation how little my parents actually care about me. diasppointed to report it doesn't hurt any less the nth time around

[defenselesswriter]

Blanket Fort Protection

@darrenhasmyheart sent me this post and welp i wrote a whole ficlet on it so please enjoy

Five years after Scott had been bitten is when things in Beacon Hills finally started to calm the fuck down. Even so, the pack still kept up on their patrols and research and pack bonding even. Somehow Scott and Derek made the whole co-alpha thing work, much to Stiles' surprise. However, it was definitely a rough adjustment period for all involved. 

For the first time in his life, Stiles had a group of friends, and he'd even consider them family, but if anyone ever tells Jackson that Stiles thinks of him as family, he will vehemently deny it. And he could deny it. Sure, lying to werewolves isn't the smartest, but Stiles has learned how to do it. Sometimes, he just needs privacy, and if they know every one of his white lies then... then Derek would probably kill him honestly.

Stiles flinches when Derek throws Boyd onto the ground harder than he needed to. "Derbear, chill," Stiles calls out from his seat on the porch of the newly built Hale house.

Derek growls and flashes his red eyes at Stiles, and you know what, scratch that. Derek will definitely kill Stiles. 

Stiles rolls his own because he isn't scared of Derek, not really. And his automatic response to Derek's alpha eyes is definitely not the most appropriate, but no one has called him out on it yet, so as he does with those kinds of problems, he ignores it until it goes away.

Boyd stands up, definitely favoring his left arm instead of his right. He gives Derek one of his long, meaningful looks that Stiles either knows exactly what they mean or has no fucking clue what Boyd is trying to tell him. It seems that Derek understands this meaningful look because he growls at Boyd, who just shakes his head minutely at the alpha. 

After that, Stiles calls it quits on the training session. 

Once the pack has left to their own places to nurse their wounds inflicted by the alpha (Erica has a broken wrist, Isaac a sprained ankle, Boyd a dislocated shoulder, and Jackson a swollen eye), Derek turns on Stiles.

"Why do you always act like you have any authority over my pack?" Derek half yells, half growls. 

Stiles scoffs at him and falls onto the couch. "Because your pack, oh dearest alpha, listens to me. Take it up with them if you have such a huge problem with it."

Derek huffs. "We weren't done training for the day."

"You were," Stiles says as he opens his laptop and focuses his attention on the screen. A minute of silence goes by where Stiles assumes that Derek has accepted defeat. He starts reading through the Satomi pack bestiary and translating it into the Hale's. Derek is quiet long enough that Stiles forgets that they were in the middle of an argument where Derek was so obviously wrong, as he always is, when said alpha slams Stiles' laptop lid shut.

"Do you live here?" Derek asks. "Did you move in without my knowledge?"

Stiles glares at him and slides his fingers out from under his laptop. "I do have a room here."

"Go home, Stiles," Derek growls at him. "Training is apparently over, so what possible reason do you have for still annoying me with your presence?"

Stiles hums and studies Derek for a moment. Over the years, they have become friends as they both have worked together on protecting the pack and pulling each other out of danger. Derek is even known to smile sometimes, but this Derek in front of him is the same one Stiles met when he was sixteen. While Derek learned how to be happy again, Stiles learned the important lesson of knowing when to pick his battles, and this one right here is not one to pick at the moment.

Without another word, Stiles slips his laptop back into his backpack and gets off the couch. He sees something flash across Derek's face as he nears the door, but he already decided to not pick this battle, so he doesn't.

With his back to Derek and his hand on the door, Stiles calls out, "Call me when you're done repressing whatever it is that's going on." Before Derek can respond, Stiles opens the door and closes it behind him. Obviously, Derek could easily catch up to Stiles as he walks to his jeep, but he knows Derek learned a similar lesson a few years back: he doesn't have to pick every single battle.

A couple days go by with no word from Derek, and Stiles hasn't grown out of his anxiety or constant worrying over people he cares about, so he has been keeping tabs on Derek through different pack members. Isaac texted yesterday saying that Derek was cleaning the grout on the kitchen tile with his claws. Erica called last night to tell Stiles that Derek won't touch the Chinese takeout she brought over for dinner even though she knows it's his favorite. Boyd answered a simple, "Yes," when Stiles asked if Derek was still alive earlier this morning, which makes Boyd his new favorite because Jackson's only response was the middle finger emoji. That's not an answer, Jackson.

When the sheriff comes home from his shift, Stiles corners him at the kitchen table with a dinner of steak, roasted potatoes, and brussel sprouts (he had to make sure something was healthy at dinner). As soon as his dad sits down, he looks at Stiles with a resigned look. 

"I am going to enjoy this dinner before you tell me whatever you did that will upset me," he instructs, pointing his fork at Stiles for emphasis before taking a bite of steak.

Stiles allows his father to enjoy half of his dinner before he opens his mouth. "I just have one question."

The sheriff groans loudly and dramatically - and people really wonder where Stiles got that from? - before dropping his fork and knife on the table. He settles his forehead into his hand and waves his other hand for Stiles to continue.

"Did Derek show up for his shift today?" Stiles asks.

Slowly, Stiles' dad lifts his head to stare at Stiles with doubt. "Yes," he finally answers as his eyes narrow to study Stiles. 

"That was all I wanted to know," Stiles tells him and starts cutting up his steak, but it's hard to eat when he can feel his dad's eyes on him scrutinizing every detail of Stiles. With a groan, Stiles leans back in his chair and stares at his dad expectantly. "What?"

"Why do you care about my deputy's attendance?" he asks.

Stiles shrugs. "Because you're too soft on him, so if he's slacking I can give him a stern talking to."

"Uh-huh," the sheriff grunts. "I know you have figured out how to lie to your werewolf friends, Stiles, but I raised you, and I know when you're lying."

"Technically, that wasn't a lie," Stiles points out. "You are too soft on Derek."

"The kid deserves a bit of a break, Stiles," his dad argues. "And he is one of my best and most hardworking deputies."

Stiles huffs and picks up his fork to push around his potatoes. "I'm just worried about him, okay? Did he seem off today?"

The man across the table relaxes as their conversation shifts to an actual conversation rather than the interrogation Stiles had set up. Really, Stiles doesn't understand how no one has figured out where he gets a majority of his tactics from. 

"He seemed tense," his dad answers as he stabs a piece of potato. His brussel sprouts are suspiciously left untouched.

Stiles hums to acknowledge his dad's words, but he finishes his plate in silence. As he gets up from the table to rinse his plate, he nods at his dad's plate. "Make sure to finish your brussel sprouts, old man."

And if his dad could have growled, Stiles has no doubt that would have been a moment he would.

Friday night, Stiles nervously walks into Derek's house. It's pack night, and his presence is expected, but he hasn't spoken to Derek all week, so he isn't sure how Derek will react to him.

Turns out, Derek isn't reacting to Stiles at all. Whenever Stiles speaks, Derek either flat out ignores it or responds in as little words as possible and not directly to Stiles. To be fair, everyone else gets similar treatment. 

After everyone finishes dinner, they find a reason to excuse themselves before anyone can suggest a movie as they usually do. Once again, Stiles is the last one left as he finishes up the dishes. He keeps side eyeing Derek's untouched plate before he wraps it up and puts it in the fridge in case he wants it later.

Derek disappeared upstairs once Isaac excused himself, so there really was no reason for Stiles to linger once the kitchen is clean. There's something wrong with Derek, and he knows it. He just can't pinpoint exactly what's wrong. 

Before he can talk himself out of it, Stiles starts pulling cushions off the couches and grabbing blankets from the linen closet. He goes to his designated room and grabs the comforter he loves and the pillows off the bed. It takes a while, and he is genuinely surprised Derek doesn't come yell at him to leave his house, but once he's finished, he's happy with the results.

Stiles goes through and turns off all the lights in the house, starting the dishwasher as he passes it and grabs something out of the freezer. Once it's dark, he crawls into the fort and makes himself comfortable, playing on his phone until he hears footsteps on the stairs.

He can't stop himself from smiling when he hears Derek growling, "Stiles, what are you doing?"

"Cheering you up!" he answers lightly.

"I don't need cheering up," Derek gets out through what sounds like clenched jaws. "I need you to leave me the fuck alone."

For some reason, that is the straw that breaks Stiles' back. "Just get in the fucking blanket fort, Derek!" he yells.

Surprisingly, after a few quiet moments, Derek starts shuffling to the fort. When he pokes his head in, Stiles smiles at him, which earns him a glare. Once Derek is seated at the very edge of the fort, he lifts his eyebrows expectantly. Stiles glares at him instead of giving him a verbal answer because Derek is smart and can figure shit out.

With the most dramatic and heaving sigh, Derek shifts so his back is against the couch like Stiles and his legs are splayed in front of him. He even grabs Stiles' favorite pillow and holds it to his chest.

Stiles rewards him by reaching behind himself and handing Derek a carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream (the heathen's favorite) and a spoon. Then he pulls his laptop closer to himself and plays the first episode of Matt Smith's run as the doctor, which is also Derek's favorite doctor and really the man has such poor taste. It's not that Derek's wrong. It's that there are better options.

Once the laptop is set down near their feet, Stiles relaxes and takes his own spoon to the now opened container of ice cream. Mint chocolate chip isn't the worst flavor, but as Stiles says, there are better options.

It takes three episodes of Doctor Who for Derek to actually start relaxing. The ice cream is long gone and has been set aside on the towel Stiles thought to bring in ahead of time. 

As the end credits start to roll and Stiles reaches to play the next episode, Derek shifts. Stiles looks over at him, and it looks like Derek is about to talk, so Stiles puts his hand back in his lap. Netflix asks if they're still watching, but neither of them click the answer.

"It's the anniversary of the fire," Derek mumbles without looking at Stiles.

The words hit Stiles hard, but his feelings aren't the ones that matter right now, so instead of saying anything, Stiles leans forward and plays the next episode. When he leans back against the couch again, he rests his arm on the bottom cushions not quite on Derek's shoulders, though.

By the halfway point of the episode, Derek finally relaxes into Stiles' touch and leans against his side. Wordlessly, Stiles starts running his fingers through Derek's hair. When Derek nuzzles Stiles' shoulder, he knows the man is asleep. Carefully, he closes his laptop when his socked foot so he doesn't jostle Derek too much. He's not sure Derek has gotten a lot of sleep this week and is desperate not to wake Derek up.

With one hand, Stiles pulls up his comforter around the both of them and curls into Derek, holding him close. In response, Derek tucks his face into Stiles' neck and clutches his shirt. They've never cuddled, not like this at least. They've been more tactile in recent years, but this feels a bit more intimate than Stiles is used to. He finds that he doesn't mind at all as his head falls onto Derek's and his eyes close.

Stiles wakes up feeling warm, but not in a bad way. He's more comfortable than he remembers ever being and sighs contentedly. Rubbing the back of the person curled into him, he starts to think maybe he'll drift off to sleep again, but then he remembers who is curled into him.

As Stiles' heart rate spikes, Derek shushes him.

"Are you actually awake?" Stiles whispers. "Like you are aware of your current surroundings?"

"Yes," Derek grumbles, and fuck, his scratchy morning voice is the cutest sound Stiles has ever heard. "Relax, please."

"So you're not mad about this?" because Stiles can't not ask.

"If I was, would you still be in my house, Stiles?"

"No...?"

"No," Derek confirms. "Are you mad about this?"

"No," Stiles quickly says, not even having to try to lie. 

Derek hums contentedly, his thumb sweeping the skin of Stiles' hip because apparently his shirt has racked up a little. "Thank you," Derek says so quietly that Stiles isn't sure he heard him correctly because to be fair, he has been focused on not popping an inappropriate boner as if he were still a teenager.

"No problem," he squeaks out.

Finally, Derek lifts his head and looks down at Stiles. His face is softer than it has been all week, and something inside Stiles melts. As if Derek could sense that, he smiles a little until his eyebrows furrow slightly and he looks at Stiles as if there is something important to say.

"Can I kiss you?" is the absolute last thing Stiles expected Derek to say.

"Do you want to?" Stiles asks, his brain suddenly moving so slowly even though right now would be a great time for it to pick up the pace and solve the puzzle in front of him.

Derek just nods, his eyes darting down to look at Stiles' lips.

"Oh my god," Stiles says, knowing his words sound a bit freaked out because he is. Doesn't matter. He rushes forward to kiss Derek but ends up knocking their foreheads together. "Fuck!" Stiles groans, his head dropping back down as he rubs his head.

Derek laughs softly, nudging Stiles' hand out of the way with his nose before pressing a soft kiss that takes away all of the pain in Stiles' head. Before Stiles can comment on magic kisses, Derek is cupping his cheek and kissing Stiles' lips. It's chaste and soft and Stiles can't fucking breathe because it's perfect and nothing at all like he imagined. It's so so much better.

"You're never getting rid of me now," Stiles mumbles against Derek's lips.

Derek pulls him closer as he kisses him. Pulling back ever so slightly, he whispers, "Is that a promise?"

[shinidamachu]

The One With The Fantasy Type Thing - Part II

Summary: I wrote Part I of this story months ago and people on Fanfiction.Net asked me for a sequel with Kagome’s fantasy (which I was already going to do, anyway) so here we go.

Word Count: 3610  Genre: get down and dirty  Fandom: InuYasha  Pairing: Inukag  Format: oneshot  AO3 Link: 🌹  Fanfic.Net Link: 🌹

“It’s not like I don’t want to do it!” InuYasha explained again — maybe for the fourth time that afternoon — and she rolled her eyes for what he was absolutely sure it was the ninth. Since the night before, the subject has been a hard impasse between them.

“Geez, I didn’t ask you to do anything!” Without wasting any more time, Kagome resumed the boring task of pick up, fold and then put the freshly dry clothes in the basket he held. “See, that’s why I didn’t want to tell you in the first place! I knew you would totally freak out.”

“I ain’t freakin’ out.” Doe-eyes turned upward at the obvious lie. Tenth time, now.

“Just let it go, okay? It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal?” He couldn’t keep his tone from raising. “How is it not that big of a deal? You want to have se-”

“Hello, Mrs. Ishida!” Kagome greeted the elderly woman he had been too overwhelmed to noticed with a shaky smile. “B-beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Miko-Sama.” The woman bowed respectfully and restarted walking. Kagome waited for a safe distance to speak again, the mortified pallor of her cheeks giving way to vivid rubor.

“Do you think she heard us?”

“I think she is way past the whole hearing thing.”

She playfully punched his arm.

“I’m serious!”

“So am I.”

Kagome took a deep breath and when the words came out, they sounded just a little bit higher than a whisper.

“Supposing I had actually asked you to do it, there would be nothing to worry about. I can handle myself.” One more fabric was set in the basket. “I did defeat Naraku, after all.”

“Oi, don’t act like you did it all by yourself!”

“I’m a priestess in the full strength of my spiritual powers.” She proceeded, like he hadn’t even spoken.

“Now you’re just bragging.”

“And if worst comes to worst, I can always use the beads.” His wife caressed the rosary for emphasis.

In spite of knowing she was joking and the fiery sensation her proximity caused on him, InuYasha put up a grumpy face.

“Great! Now I’m just dying to do it!”

Kagome chuckled.

“Then forget about it.”

“Why do you even want to do it?” That woman would never stop surprising him, would she? Every time he thought he had her figured out, she found a different way to catch him off guard.

“Because…” Kagome took the basket off his hands and placed it on the ground. Arms tangled around his neck, she stood on her tiptoes while InuYasha automatically involved her waist. “I have loved you as a human…” She smacked a kiss on his left cheek. “I have loved you as a half demon…” Another peck on right one. “And if you let me, I want to love each and every part of you.”

Before they could get interrupted by another passer-by, for the briefest of moments, their lips met. Kagome smiled at him like she hasn’t just lighted his entire body up with the innocent gesture.

She always had a way of making him feel the luckiest, most loved moron alive.

Damn it all.

“Fine, let’s try.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but if you ever feel that I’m going too far…” InuYasha didn’t need to finish.

“Deal!”

His shaking hands propped awkwardly on her waist as he tried to reciprocate the kiss over the crescent concern eroding the edges of his stomach. Kagome pressed her lips on his with urgency and traced down his nude upper body to find destination at the knot of his hakama. She untied it with all the expertise their private moments had granted her, letting a hand slide inside. InuYasha’s eyes opened wide, his pulse resounded through his ears, blocking everything else. Vainly wondering if she could hear it too, he watched her frown then pull away. Her hand retracted as well, a feeble smile on her face.

“Having second thoughts?” It was more of a statement than a question. She blinked to observe him and even in the dancing candle light it felt like Kagome stared at his soul.

“Let’s just keep going, alright?” Her skepticism lingered on as she considered him for a moment, then she was sucking on his neck, moving against InuYasha in a torturous friction. Kagome guided his hand underneath her loosened yukata, encouraging him to caress the smooth skin of her breast.

Paralyzed, all he managed to do was worry about his claws. Have they always been that sharp? It was known that if InuYasha sticked to the plan, allowing his youkai half to surface, they would grow even longer. And her skin was so delicate...

Kagome exhaled heavily, the hot air tickling his throat.

“You know we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, don’t you?” He let his hand fall to the side as she backed down to face him, sincerity overflowing from every feature and kindness from every word. “The whole point of doing this is that both of us can enjoy. If you feel obligated to do it just because I-”

“It’s not about that. I mean, it is a little. How can I ever deny you anything when you’ve given me so much already?”

“You don’t owe me anything, stupid.”

He knew she meant it. It was never like that with them. Reciprocity wasn’t demanded, it just flowed to and from each other when the “I’m sorrys” weren’t enough or the ��thank yous” were superfluous.

But he also knew himself and there was no way he would miss out an opportunity to compensate her nonetheless, jumping on every chance to make her as happy as she made him.

“Truth is… It’s hard to let go. Protecting you comes easily to me and doing this goes against each instinct I have. If I lose control, I…”

InuYasha looked away. With Tessaiga abandoned in the living room to better serve their purposes and his feelings so rawly spilled in the open, InuYasha felt more naked than he actually was.

Her hand found his chin, pushing his attention back to her as gentle as a sweet dream.

“I trust you. Don’t you think it’s time for you to do the same?”

“Maybe you’re right.” He muttered, realizing the only way to ensure he would never hurt her was learning to tame the beast inside to his will. It wasn’t something that could be done by being evasive.

“Maybe? Of course I’m right!” Her ever positive attitude plucked a smile out of him, which she then reciprocated with her own. “Besides... you didn’t seem that worried last night.”

Indeed, she still had the small purple bruises to prove it.

“Keh, that was different. I was… distracted.”

“Fine, then all we need to do is distract you again.” Suddenly her lips parted in silent exclamation, eyes glowing with mischief. “And I know just how!” Kagome hasted off his lap, not bothering to explain a thing. It wasn’t until she was half way through the room that she turned, smirked and lifted a commanding finger at him. “Stay.”

InuYasha narrowed his eyes.

Content, she walked out the door, leaving him stranded, confused and semi erect.

InuYasha’s ears twitched towards every sound she made, trying to compensate for what he couldn’t see. Footsteps, fabric flapping around and falling to the ground. More footsteps. He realized what his wife was up to only a second before she graced his vision again.

His head tilted to the right on its own and a wail — which irritatingly enough validated her prior dog joke — fell off his lips.

Kagome stood there, looking every bit the personification of his wildest dreams.

Her dark locks contrasted the white garment, which hugged her curves in a loose temptation. The lower green garb ended shortly after her ass, providing a neat view of her fair legs — memories of the night prior, when InuYasha had them up as he thrusted into her with everything he had, invaded his mind.

Sneaky wench.

Kagome started crossing her way back to him. She didn’t get too far.

InuYasha had her pinned to the cold, rough ground before she could even notice he had left the futon.

“That’s cheating.”

“That’s being creative.”

She grabbed the tresses on each side of his head and pulled him down to her lips. This time, he allowed himself to relish the marvelous feeling of her tongue touching his, demanding passage.

Her scent — which InuYasha has been determined to ignore since she had climbed onto his lap earlier — was now an undeniable presence, taking him by the hand, letting him know just how much she was ready for him, making him forget all the reasons why they shouldn’t be doing this.

A pair of hands impatiently tried to remove his hakama. InuYasha did the best he could to help her, kicking the damn thing off all the way. He broke the kiss to sink himself in her neck, giving the mark from the last night a twin. Kagome sighed in sheer approval, wandering fingers finding his erection to caress it with slow strokes and InuYasha hissed past his clenched teeth.

Soon enough, the unsettling energy he manages to keep sealed for the majority of time cracked against him wave after wave and rather than fight it, InuYasha embraced the pulsation that coursed through his body for once, letting it wake his most primitive parts.

Oddly, the transformation felt almost natural — as if his fangs were always meant to be that elongate and his claws that lengthy — the only anomaly being the sensation of watching himself from afar and yet experience everything amplified to the highest.

Now that this form wasn’t casting his conscience away like it used to, InuYasha was comfortable. He wasn’t himself and at the same time he was. It was confusing and exciting. Frightening and new. Definitively better than becoming human, when he didn’t feel like himself at all.

“InuYasha?” Her ministrations had ceased, giving place to a wicked ache.

Her bust rose and fell underneath his weigh — nothing but fragile woven and repressed tension between them — and InuYasha dragged his red eyes to hers, waiting for a reaction. Kagome reached for his cheek, softly tracing what doubtlessly was a violet stripe.

"You can still back down anytime." The resonance of his voice still bewildered him after every sound he made, keen fangs making difficult to talk. Kagome freed his face of her touch.

"No way."

InuYasha clutched her chin and lifted it slightly towards him, their noses brushing.

He waited, but Kagome showed no fear. Instead, she offered him a grin — the one she knew was his undoing —, her gaze defying him to do the very naughty things he was already planning to.

The youkai smashed her mouth with his own, stealing her breath away his sole purpose as their tongues gravitate towards one another. Fingers in his hair, Kagome clung to him, eager for more. InuYasha held her still and right when she thought he would give her what she wanted, he nibbled her lower lip and deliberately stretched it to the limit — not so hard to cause pain, just enough to let her know what she got herself into.

She moaned, her eyes half-lidded. Opening a devilish smile, InuYasha ripped off the piece of clothing that separated their chests, earning a gasp from the arching woman underneath him. The sound echoed through the room and right then they were the only people in the world.

Her breasts immediately got captured into the intense care of his palms and he went back to kissing her swollen lips. Kagome’s hands were everywhere, a constant distraction mapping his body and making his cock twitch at the minimum sign of approximation.

Using his nose to lift her chin, exposing her throat to him, InuYasha ran his tongue from there all the way down to the narrow valley between her boobs, avoiding the pieces of woven that somehow survived his claws and leaving behind a hot trail of saliva. He covered a nipple with his mouth, not at all surprised when the whole area got promptly decorated with goosebumps. It was so damn easy to cause them. Kagome held him there — writhing, wailing — as InuYasha took the nipple on his teeth, biting it slightly. What wouldn’t he give then to see her expression and whisper filthy things in her ear? Her head, however, was thrown back in pleasure and besides his mouth was currently occupied. In the end he decided it was just as good.

It didn’t take long for his wife to retaliate — she went straight for his ears —, but InuYasha was one step ahead. Gripping Kagome’s hands before she could achieve her goal, he nailed them above her head and undid the red tie that completed the improvised uniform to knot her wrists with it. He couldn’t have her talented fingers wandering free and risking ending things too soon.

It was true the measure could only restrain her movements to an extent, but InuYasha had no doubt she was gonna behave. In fact, he looked forward to making sure of that.

Kagome, however, willingly succumbed to his commands. Her surrender came in a heavy exhalation and she bit the veery lip he had nibbled on to hide a grin. It was impossible not to grin back. Redirectioning his attention to her breasts, he picked up where he left off, circling her nipple with his tongue and using his hands to lift her skirt up.

A growl reverberated through the room when InuYasha pushed himself right against her damp folds and he realized, with contained amaze, that it was coming from him. No wonder her scent was so strong — apparently his wench decided to repeat the mischief from the night before, trading the strange underwear that used to cover her most intimate parts in the past to nothing at all. ‘An improvement’, she had told him and InuYasha couldn’t agree more. Searching for friction, he rubbed his lenght across her again, making sure to brush over her clit.

“InuYasha, now!”, she cried, and in a regular day that would have been all it would take for him to obey, gladly giving her whatever she desired, for how long she needed until she was satisfied, but this time he wanted her to beg for it. InuYasha relentlessly moved his hips, scraping his claws down her belly, then back up as he watched his wife with a cocked eyebrow. If a youkai was what she wanted, a youkai she shall get. “Please!”

Only then he thrusted into her.

It was such a powerful feeling, whenever he became them, and InuYasha knew in that moment his youkai self wouldn’t content itself with little — after all those years of restrain, he had no idea how starving it was until it had a bite. Now there was no stopping it.

InuYasha pulled back leisurely, slamming in once more with a hard push. Then another, then another — always spaced, always hitting just the right spot — causing their heated bodies to swing on the floor.

“F-faster!” Kagome whispered, choppy moans escaping her clenched teeth. InuYasha laughed and grasped her waist, increasing his pace to an frenetic rhythm.

“Like this?”

“Yes! Yes, just like that!”

He went on for several minutes, building her climax until she was dangerously over the edge... then returned to slow, tough assaults, starting it all again, knowing her release would be even more intense if he did.

“InuYasha!” She protested, but he ignored her, focusing on going deeper and biting her ear. Palms on the floor on each side of her head, InuYasha pierced his claws to it for support when the time came to accelerate things again. And accelerate he did.

Kagome was a nook of pure ecstasy. Her legs tangled around his hips, urging him to keep moving while still trapping him there. InuYasha speeded up, feeling himself getting closer and closer. Finally, her muscles tightened and she screamed at the same time he let it all go with a ravenous groan.

Once the high worn out, InuYasha reluctantly pulled out of her and ripped off the tie on her wrists. Kagome lowered her arms, immediately massaging the marks it had left. The sigh of relief she made as she did so spoke directly to his throbbing cock. As anticipated, he was still hard as a rock.

“I ain’t done with you yet.” InuYasha murmured in her ear, smiling when she held her breath. “On all fours.” He ordered, giving her space to obey. Getting rid of the remaining rags hanging from her shoulders, Kagome started to get in position without a question.

The green material still covered most of her rear, but what he saw was more than enough to make his hand slip to his cock, stroking in anticipation as he waited. The last thing he remembered was Kagome looking back at him with a convidative smile, then the fabric of her skirt was tearing to pieces under his claws and he was grazing his tongue up her thigh, cleaning the juice that dropped down.

Getting to her center, InuYasha paid a long lick to her walls, tasting himself, making his wife tremble and whimper. He aligned at her entrance and, wasting no time, took what was his.

With renewed appetite, he shoved himself inside her moving as fast as his body allowed. There was something about having her that way — skin glistening with sweat, hair slicking on her back, his cock getting in and out of her — that brought a nasty smile to his lips.

Oh, if the villagers could see their precious miko now, getting fucked hard and good by the half demon. Part of him wanted them to know just how hot she was for him. Part of him wanted to make her scream so loud that she would wake them all up and let them know it herself.

The combined sound of their moans and flesh hitting flesh was making him insane. His hands left the grope on her ass to grab her boob and pull her hair, leaving him free to suck on her neck and thrust harder. Kagome gasped in approval.

“Touch yourself.” Demanded InuYasha, his breath so close it blew a few strands of her hair. He liberated her from his embrace in order to let her do as she was told. And she did. Turning back to catch a last glimpse of him, Kagome lowered her upper body until her cheek was laid on the floor and one of the arms she had used for support disappeared underneath her body.

Never ceasing his moviments, InuYasha took the opportunity to run his claws up and down her spine as she shivered compulsively, getting louder by the minute, his name the only distingable word falling off her mouth.

Then Kagome tightened around him, reduced to a shaking pile of mess as he rode her orgasm, searching to amplify his own. His arm snaked around her waist and he rolled his hips once, twice, until finally erupting inside her one more time.

InuYasha pulled out — quivering a bit himself — and his wife crawled away, the sight almost getting him going again.

“InuYasha?” It was like her voice had just woke him up from an wonderful dream, promptly returning him to his senses. “You’re alright?”

He blinked.

“‘Course.” InuYasha answered with a smile, until the realization of everything they had just done slowly made it fade. “You?” “My knees are a little sore, but other than that… I’ve never been better.” Kagome giggled and laid on the floor, looking beyond satisfied. That didn’t diminished his guilt. InuYasha rushed to her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He repeated, planting kisses on the hurting spot between one apology and the other.”

“Hey now, It’s okay.” She reassured, hands petting his hair. “It was totally worth it.”

“Crazy woman.”

“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”

Before InuYasha got the chance to reply, he noticed the absolute chaos of shreds that circluded them. He grabbed the closest one. Destroying them had felt like such a good idea at the time.

“Damnit!” Kagome looked at him as if he was a boy who had just broken his favorite toy. Which he had.

“I can sew a new one, you know?”

He considered it for a while, then shook his head, conformed.

“Don’t bother. I’ll just ruin it too.” InuYasha threw the fabric away and kissed her forehead. “Besides... as fun as this was, in the end of the day I’d rather have you wearing nothing at all.”

“I’m fine with that.” Kagome said, lifting her head so she could catch his lips with hers. He reciprocated while sneaking his arms behind her back and knees, picking her up and taking her to their futon.

After covering a sleepy Kagome with the first blanket he could find — the woman always gets chilly somehow — he joined her, trying to figure out how he had got so damn lucky. InuYasha used to think about Kagome as an anchor, always keeping him centered. Now he had learned she was more like a lantern, lightening the way, guiding him through the dark. There was nothing he couldn’t do with her by his side.

Watching the serene expression on her face as she slept, he was taken by an unconditional truth. A truth she had proved to him over and over. A truth he had known since forever, and yet a truth that amazed him whenever he was faced with it.

“You really love me, huh?”

“What gave me away?”

A/N: thank you so much for reading it! I can't tell you guys how much it means to me. Oh and don't forget to let me know what you think.

Also, tagging: @keichanz @xfangheartx @mcornilliac @petri808 and @xxracheyxx because they seemed to have enjoyed the first one.

[iwritethat]

Jason Todd: Should’ve - Part 2

Request: Multiple requests for a Part 2

A/N: Finally!

Warnings: Strong language, a tad of angst I suppose

>>>>——————————>

~ Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~

It was a funny situation, you refused to step foot anywhere near Outlaw safe-houses since the incident, nor could you pinpoint exactly how you felt about the situation. You were never dating; never labelled your relationship anything more than friends by association so you couldn't hate him for his actions; you'd never said you'd loved each other so he had no idea how his choices would affect your feelings - but you had the right to be angry, to be furious and to be as vengeful as you wished. You'd pushed yourself to learn everything from Black Canary leaving you with mastery in a variety of martial arts, your training with Green Arrow meant you rarely missed and even took to sparring with Wonder Woman. However, Arrowette had become Oliver's new protege and the girl looked up to you unconditionally, her presence influenced your decision to leave having outgrown being a sidekick.

.

Your friends kept in touch, Kyle Rayner and yourself had grown closer with his adventures in alternate galaxies keeping you distracted as well as regular trips to Los Angeles. Roy acted no different, he visited frequently like nothing had changed which gave you opportunities to inquire about Jason and the Outlaws despite Roy's reluctance to bring up the subject. You knew he felt guilty about your heartbreak, but you'd assured him it wasn't his fault and thanked him for letting you make your own decisions, you could never resent him for that. You'd learned that Roy had left shortly afterwards, choosing to focus on improving his own mental health and Kori had joined the Titans leaving Jason to his own devices.

"He still asks about you y'know..."

"Like I give a shit Roy." You frustratingly sighed, experimenting with your technologically advanced arrowheads.

"I know... Anyways, there's a new Outlaws team, a superman clone called Bizarro and Artemis of Bana-Mighdall. They're kinda... close?" Roy shrugged, awkwardly rubbing his neck as your attention focused on him at the mention of new members.

"Artemis?! Who the hell is that?"

"Forgotten already (Y/n)?"

You flicked around to see the smiling blonde archer, better known as Tigress in the vigilante game.

"Ah I missed you Arty, but I meant Jason's new teammate."

"Hold up, this whole boy drama is about the Red Hood? ROY! What the hell??? How could you let our lil dork go near him?" Artemis shot a deadly glare to Roy, practically raging with this new information much to your amusement.

"Whatever replacement, it's (Y/n)'s life." Roy simply shrugged, unphased by her actions which only aggravated her further.

"You're supposed to be looking out for them whilst I'm not around, you should've done something!"

"I'm right here and old enough to make my own decisions!" You cut in, confident in your words.

"See." Roy gestured to you after your statement, emphasising his point to Arty.

"Shut it Arse, I love this dysfunctional Arrow family but I don't need looking after anymore remember. I'm flying solo." You quelled their sibling-like spat with a calmer tone offering them both a kind smile.

The two exchanged a worried glance, understanding that you were in a lot more danger alone and your carelessness toward your wellbeing wouldn't help matters. As for your latest mission in Gotham City? That was risky considering the Outlaws were also running around.

———

Jason paused, eyeing the way the mysterious shadow moved with such deadly elegance and although your uniform had drastically darkened to that of an assassin-like attire, he could recognise your personal movements anywhere as much as he regretted being able to do so. He was suddenly on hyper alert, disregarding whatever his task was to shadow you from above ensuring you were safe.

It was almost instinct to do so, the vigilante clocking a sniper up above your angelic form ready to shoot. He didn’t have the opportunity to think, automatically jumping down to your level and pinning you behind a pillar before shooting the marksman himself.

"Ah... ouchhh~" You rubbed the back of your head, finding your back against cold stone with a sculpted body flutteringly close to your own as if shielding you whilst he dealt with the threat with his free hand holding a gun.

"Damnit (Y/n)! Are you okay?!" Upon hearing your voice, he lowered his weapon, turning to you with a sense of urgency.

"What the- Jason?! What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" You immediately pushed him away from you, anger getting the best of your emotions.

"I just saved your life!" He argues back, equally as passionate about this discussion.

"I didn't need saving asshole, I had a plan that's gone to shit because of you. Guess you have a habit of doing that huh?" You gestured to the perpetrator, the marksman covered in a web substance holding him in place thus unable to shoot you. Jason observed, noticing the automated crossbow set up to fire on your signal - you knew what you were doing and he’d ruined it.

"You almost got shot! I'm not leaving until I know you're alright."

"Didn't stop you last time." You bit back, the remark dissipating Jason’s argument.

"(Y/n) I-"

"It's (v/n) to you." You brushed him off with little more than a glance, although he instinctively grasped your forearm and upon realising, had to make a plausible excuse for his need of contact.

"I've got a new team with some superpowers, I can assist."

"Yeah no, as I remember 'You're not strong enough to be apart of the Outlaws' were your exact words, so I'll pass." And with that you turned you back on him like he’d done to you.

.

You made it to the rooftop, target now out of sight but a flash of scarlet caught your peripheral vision, leading you to duck, flip and face your opponent.

"Who the heck are you?"

"Artemis of Bana-Mighdall. You?"

Oh. She was beautiful, strong, and an Amazon - no wonder Jason was into her, so there was no point in sticking around awaiting the painful truth which would crush your heart all over again.

"I'm outta here."

"Wrong. Where is Red Hood?" The woman cocked a brow, axe held out to block your pathway as you glared at her, stepping back to cross your arms.

"Like I give a damn, find him yourself." Artemis didn't appreciate your tone, pointing her weapon at you with a more demanding voice this time.

"If you've hurt him I -"

"Oh trust me, I'd love to kick his ass for everything he did but I have better things to do." You readied a defensive stance, the woman clearly preparing an attack as she swung until Jason protectively slid in front of you, tossing his helmet to the concrete.

"Don't even think about it!"

Artemis halted, confusion written in her expression as she silently awaited an explanation as to why her teammate had been so deadly with his order. You on the other hand were furious with his display, drop kicking the vigilante and straddling him, pulling back your hood and scarf so your identity was on full display leaving Jason slightly awestruck, he hadn't seen you in so long that he wasn't ready for the flood of feelings that overwhelmed his heart. He'd wanted to embrace you as he did when he used to return home because in a way you were home - although he knew you felt the opposite, all that was left for him in you was hatred and betrayal.

"What. The. Hell. Jason?" You punctuated every word, hands holding his shoulders to the concrete until he answered you.

"Makes sense now." Artemis muttered to herself, recognising you immediately as well as the way Jason gazed at you.

"Considering you blocked my number, I didn't expect you to jump on me so fast doll." He could never forget what you looked like, nor the sound of your voice even after all this time, despite knowing you hated his guts. Maybe that was why he was so cocky with you, it was better to put on a show than let you in.

"You know why I did that, you left me Jason!" He hated the pain in your voice, the way you emphasised exactly what he’d done and it killed him to hear it yet refused to back down.

"Why would that bother you so much? We're friends, you should understand."

"We were friends, not letting me join your team I could understand but just leaving me with no explanation? Ignoring my calls? Telling me to go back to Star City? Telling me to leave you alone? Those were things you didn't even try to help me understand so you don't have the right to question to my behaviour Jason!" Your words were spit like venom, poisoning your relationship further and only hurting Jason as he was forced to recall those repressed memories. He regretted it. He regretted everything.

.

"Love of Red Him?" The newcomer acted as a welcomed distraction, breaking the tense heavy silence that even Artemis seemed to wince at.

"What?"

"No - no... it's (Y/n)." Jason quickly corrected after you’d bluntly spoke, a lack of uncertainty filtering through despite his best efforts.

"(Y/n). Love of Red Him." The clone nodded in confirmation, agreeing with his leader who seemed mortified at the directness.

"Love? 'Red Him' isn't capable of it, Roy should've told me that and you should remember it." You coldly added, getting to your feet and walking toward the roof edge without looking back leaving the Outlaws in silence.

"I like her, more than anyone else I've met despite the angst. So is she still single after your decisions because I'd make her happier than you by the sounds of it." Artemis smugly commented, Jason chose to ignore her as his gaze watched you disappear into the night.

[darks-ink]

Unseen

Prompt: After getting his by his parent’s newest invention, Danny discovers he is trapped in Phantom form and can’t change back.  Prompt by: @kinglazrus Word count: 4,165

[AO3][FFnet][more Phic Phight fics]

A bright flash blinded Danny, and he braced himself for a painful impact. Surprisingly, it didn’t come. He peeked between the fingers of his white gloves, right at the weapon still pointed at him.

“Uh. I don’t think it worked,” he muttered, as his parents’ faces paled further.

His dad lowered the weapon, flipping open a panel to check. “It definitely fired, though. Mads, check him over just to be sure.”

“But I’m fine!” Danny exclaimed as he lowered himself closer to the floor anyway and submitted to his mom’s worried examination. “It didn’t even hurt or anything!”

“It wasn’t designed to hurt, sweetie.” His mom carefully inspected him, rubbing over his chest – the impact site, apparently – and even asking him to unzip his jumpsuit. Underneath it, his skin wasn’t even bruised. Nothing showed that he had been hit.

“See,” he waved a hand demonstratively, “Totally fine. No need to worry or fret, okay?”

“But that doesn’t make sense!” His dad waved the invention around, and Maddie pulled it from his hands before he damaged it. “It should’ve worked!”

Seeing the glare his wife was shooting him, he added, “Not that I wanted to hurt you, Danny-boy, but–”

“It’s fine.” Danny shot him an understanding grin, one which doubled as a soothing one for his mom. “Accidents happen. I shouldn’t have dropped in so unexpectedly – I should’ve known that I would startle you two.”

“And we should know better than to shoot first and look later.” His mom looked off-put, but she sighed and relaxed a little. “We got lucky this time, but it shouldn’t have happened.”

“Why were you coming down anyway, kiddo?” His dad had perked up a little now that it was clear no one had gotten hurt. “Important ghost business?”

“Uh, no.” Danny’s grin turned sheepish as he started to rub the back of his neck. “Jazz wanted to know what we were doing for dinner.”

“Couldn’t you just have used the stairs?” His mom looked at him, her expression somewhere between intrigued and perplexed. “Why were you in your ghost form anyway?”

“Jazz said that it was good for people – for you – to see me hanging out as Phantom.” He scuffed his boot on the floor, for once not floating in his ghost form. “Something about connecting the ways you saw me or something?”

She accepted this answer with a nod. If Jazz said it, it was likely right – and she was pretty sure it was, anyway. She hadn’t seen Danny in his ghost form a lot – it was still hard to think of him as Danny instead of Phantom. “And the phasing through the ceiling instead of using the stairs?”

“I, uh, didn’t really think about it.” Danny dropped the hand from his neck and shrugged. “I use my powers all the time, even in human form. Phasing through the door instead of opening it, floating down the stairs so they don’t creak, lighting a ball of ectoplasm instead of turning on the lights…”

“Fascinating,” his dad mumbled, and Danny abruptly remembered that the man was there, too. “Your powers are so easily accessible even in your human form that you use them so casually?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” He floated over closer to his dad, so that he was more easily included in the conversation. “My core never leaves, human or ghost. And when I first became half-ghost, I kept accidentally using my powers in human form, not in ghost form. I guess it just comes naturally.”

His mom shook her head. “I still can’t believe that we missed it for all these years.”

Danny opened his mouth to answer with one of his usual replies – assurance that it wasn’t their fault, that he had hidden it, etc – but she held up her hand and quietened him before he started. “It’s alright Danny. It was a stray thought, nothing serious.” Then she smiled at him. “We’ll do pizza for dinner, okay sweetie? Go and tell your sister – and use the stairs this time, please.”

“Alright alright.” He planted his feet back on the floor and triggered his transformation back to human form.

No flash of light came.

He frowned, tried again. Still nothing.

“Are you okay?” his dad asked, leaning closer. “You’re just… standing there.”

Danny looked at his clenched fists – still covered by the white gloves of his jumpsuit. “I can’t shift back.” He poked the ball of warmth in his chest – it was still there, just… idle. Like his core whenever he got hit with the Plasmius Maximus. He didn’t even know it was possible to lock his human form away like this. “I can still feel my human side, but I can’t switch to it.”

“That… makes sense.” His mom wandered closer, still holding the invention. “This was supposed to stop a ghost from using their powers – temporarily, of course. But it only worked on your ability to transform, rather than your ghostly ones.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How long was it supposed to last?”

“Not sure,” his dad admitted with a shrug. “Anywhere between a day and a week, depending on a number of factors. Strength of the ghost, how close to the core we hit, all of that stuff.”

“So it won’t be over before school tomorrow?” Danny groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Of course. And you won’t let me stay home, will you?”

His mom shook her head. “No sweetie, you already miss enough classes as-is. We can’t let you stay home over something like this.”

“I figured,” he mumbled, lifting off of the floor. Might as well fly over to Jazz to tell her they were having pizza, since that was what started this whole thing.

“And use the stairs, young man!” his mom yelled, moments before he passed through the ceiling.

With another sigh he re-angled himself, flying through the stairway instead.

Danny eyed the closed locker in front of him speculatively. Then, figuring that he had noting to lose, turned his arm intangible and stuck it right through.

He was still digging for his books when Sam and Tucker joined him, leaning on the lockers to either side of him.

“Didya forget something, dude?” Tucker asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. “I know you’re not hiding anymore, but this is going a little far, even for you.”

Danny sighed, pulling the last books out of the locker. “My parents accidentally hit me with one of their new inventions yesterday. I’m locked out of my human form for anywhere between a day and a week, or so my dad says.”

Sam sucked in air through her teeth. “And they wouldn’t let you stay home, huh? That sucks.”

“Mom said I miss enough class with my ghost hunting anyway.” He flung the backpack over his shoulder again. “Which is fair, but still. I’m not really excited about the prospect of going to class as Danny Phantom.”

“What are the chances that the teachers will give you detention for being a distraction?” Tucker shot him a shit-eating grin, leading the group towards Lancer’s classroom. The bell would ring soon, anyway.

Danny grumbled wordlessly. Then, almost impossible to hear, he added, “At least mom wrote a note explaining it.”

“So that’ll be about 50% of the teachers, got it.” Tucker swung his PDA around. “I’ll keep track for you so you can sue them for discrimination.”

“On what basis?” Danny frowned at his friend, ignoring the wide-eyed glances he was starting to receive as more and more people filled the hallways. “Being a ghost? I don’t think that that counts.”

“I’m sure that I can think of something,” Sam assured with a smile so evil Danny almost shivered.

Thankfully he was saved from having to answer by both the bell and the fact that they reached Mr. Lancer’s classroom. They entered immediately, Sam and Tucker moving to their seats. Danny stopped by the teacher’s desk, instead.

“Mister… Fenton,” Lancer said, tone tired and clearly barely repressing a groan. “What can I help you with?”

Danny pulled the note out of his pocket and offered it to the teacher. “I, uh. Accident in my parents’ lab, so I can’t shift back. Mom wrote a note explaining it.”

The teacher read over it once, then again. Then with a sigh he handed it back. “Very well. Take a seat and try not to distract the class.”

“I’ll do my best,” Danny said, grinning. He wandered over to his usual desk and plopped into the seat. More quietly, to Sam and Tucker, he added, “Not that it’ll make much of a difference.”

“No kidding,” Sam muttered, eyes narrowing into a glare as Paulina entered the classroom. The girl was followed by a horde of other girls, of course, but none of those mattered in comparison. It was Paulina who had had a shrine dedicated to Phantom in her locker – even though she had thankfully taken it down after the reveal.

The girl visibly perked up when she spotted Danny. He, in turn, sunk down lower into his seat – and barely repressed his automatic reaction to phase through it to sink deeper.

“Ghost boy!” she chirped, moving towards him instead of her seat. She might’ve taken down the shrine, but she still harbored strong feelings for Danny. Luckily, like most people she seemed to struggle with connecting his ghostly persona with his human form, even knowing that they were one and the same.

Unfortunately, that meant that he had to deal with the full force of her adoration – at least until he could shift back to human again.

“Paulina,” he greeted with a shaky grin. He tried to peer around her and make eye contact with Lancer – hoping that the man would shoo her off and into her seat. Unfortunately, Mr. Lancer seemed to be too occupied with his papers to notice. “Shouldn’t you, uh, get to your seat? Before the class starts?”

She ignored the suggestion and leaned on his desk instead, somehow blinking flirtatiously at him. “What are you doing here, mi amor?”

Danny blinked at her disbelievingly. “I… am part of this class? I’m here every day, unless there’s a ghost?”

Thankfully Lancer had finally noticed his plight, and came over. “Miss Sanchez, if you could stop distracting your fellow students and sit down, that would be wonderful.”

She shot Mr. Lancer a glare, then cast a longing look over at Danny, and then finally sat down. Danny couldn’t wait for this stupid invention to wear off. He was already so done with this stupid thing.

And here he had been, thinking that he had been getting a lot of attention ever since revealing his identity. Apparently it was still better in his human form, despite everyone knowing he was Phantom. Imagine that.

The rest of the classes went… Well, they weren’t normal, by any means, but it went alright, at least. A lot of the others still looked at Danny, but he could ignore their stares well enough. The only real problem had been when they had tried to watch a video during Chemistry – Danny’s eyes started glowing even brighter once the lights went off, which was apparently quite distracting to everyone else.

And there was, of course, lunch. When he had walked into the cafeteria, the entire room had shushed – but then his ghost sense went off and he spend the entire break catching Technus.

And now he sat in the locker room, Tucker by his side, staring at his gym clothes thoughtfully.

“Dude, just put them on.” Tucker was lacing up his own shoes. Everyone else had already left – Danny had waited until the locker room was mostly empty on purpose. “You know what Tetslaff is like. She’ll make you wear them anyway – might as well avoid the fight.”

Danny snorted. “Yes, because I make a habit out of avoiding fights.” Still, he complied and started peeling off his gloves.

“Don’t I know it,” Tucker grumbled in response. He straightened his beret – why did they let him wear that thing, anyway? – and pointed towards the doors into the gym. “I’ll tell Tetslaff that you’re on your way. And, uh, that you’re stuck in ghost form and all that.”

“Thanks Tuck.” Danny looked away from the pile of ghostly hazmat he was acquiring to shoot his friend a grateful look. “Try not to get killed.”

“If I do I’ll just come back as a ghost!” he shouted back as he left the locker room.

Still smiling, Danny carefully freed himself from his suit. It wasn’t exactly designed to be easy to put on or remove, and while that normally wasn’t a problem for Danny… Well, he was finding a lot of problems he didn’t normally run into, anyway.

Like how he had spent the entire day struggling to stay grounded. And forcing his legs to stay legs, instead of dissolving into a ghostly tail.

Having finally changed into his gym outfit, Danny tried to sneak into the classroom unnoticed. Unfortunately, his gym clothes did little to dampen his natural glow – and once someone caught sight of his scars, their shout alerted the rest of the class as well.

“Mr. Fenton,” Tetslaff snapped, gesturing for him to come closer. “How nice of you to finally join us…” she trailed off into silence, apparently having seen his scars as well.

Dash, unlike most of the class who had gone quiet, decided to go loud, instead. “Hey Fenton, what the hell are those?”

“They’re scars, Dash.” Danny rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, hoping not to come across as defensive as he was feeling. “You know what scars are, right?”

The boy spluttered, clearly grasping for a reply that was at least as insulting as Danny’s. Kwan spoke up instead. “But where did they come from? And why are they… green?”

Danny waved a hand over himself, demonstratively. “Um, they’re green because I’m a ghost. Ectoplasmic flesh is green, and so is ectoplasmic blood. Therefore, scars are green instead of red.” Then he paused, considering his words for a moment. “And as you might tell from the fact that they’re faded, they’re not new. They’re from the accident that turned me half-ghost.”

“Then why haven’t we seen them before?” Mikey asked, a note of genuine curiosity in his voice. Now that the question was asked, more voices started repeating it, demanding an answer.

“I’ve always had them.” Danny frowned, shooting a quick glance at Tetslaff in the hopes that she would call the class into silence. But, unfortunately, she seemed content to listen to his explanation as well. “But only as Phantom. You can’t usually see them, though, because I always wear my jumpsuit in ghost form, and that covers up most of my body.”

“Well!” A large hand landed on his shoulder, and Danny stiffened – and almost reflexively charged an ectoblast. “Now that this fantastic Q&A session is over, why don’t we get back to gym class, huh?”

Tetslaff pushed him back towards the class, and Danny quickly sidled up next to Tucker and Sam. “Today we’re running a standard training course. We’re starting with timed laps around the room, and some hurdle jumping after. Any questions so far?”

She completely ignored the raised hands, instead storming on in her explanation. “No? Good. First ones up are you guys.” She pointed at a few students – including Dash and Danny. “Get your asses to the starting lines already!”

Danny grumbled under his breath, but trudged over to the line anyway. At least he didn’t have to pretend be less athletic than he really was, now. Even if he wasn’t all that great at running, anyway. Stamina? Sure. But actual running speed?

Well, he never tested that, but still. He flew everywhere. Danny was pretty sure that he walked less now that he was half-ghost, not more.

Tetslaff whistled for them to start, and he burst off. His sneakers felt weird on his feet – wearing regular clothes always felt weird in ghost form – but they didn’t hinder his movement. The rhythmic pounding of his shoes on the floor of the gym felt good – sounded good.

Then he surpassed Dash and felt a smirk crawling up. Actually, you know what? This felt even better.

Danny crossed the finish line as the first of his group – and by wide margin, too. The teacher eyed him appreciatively, noting down his time on her clipboard. “Would you look at that, you really have been holding back on us, Fenton.”

Dash finally crossed the line, and scoffed in-between breaths. “Yeah, duh. Have you seen Phantom fight?”

“He says, like it came with being half-ghost,” Danny muttered, intending for only Sam and Tucker to hear it. Unfortunately he forgot how many of his classmates paid attention to him nowadays, and most of them seemed to have overheard it.

“Didn’t it?” Valerie asked, apparently genuinely curious. Her eyes scanned him, up and down, clearly locking on his lean muscles. “You actually worked out, Danny?”

His aura flickered brighter in annoyance. “Sam made me,” he finally admitted. The green that crept over his cheeks definitely wasn’t out of embarrassment, no sir!

A loud clap from Tetslaff interrupted the conversation before it could continue, however. “Alright, break it up! Next runners are up.”

She led the next students to the starting line, and Danny took this chance to move to a quieter corner. Most of his classmates took the signal for what it was and left him alone – even when Sam and later Tucker were called away to do their runs.

Unfortunately the peace couldn’t last, as Tetslaff called him forward again when everyone had had their run. Now, it was time to run with obstacles.

Now this, Danny knew, he could do. He actually jumped a lot, both in human and ghost forms. It was simply convenient for quick shifts – jumping off of somewhere tall or just straight-up jumping up meant that he could fly off right after shifting.

And, having already finished his regular run, he knew he could do that pretty well, too. So, really, there was no reason for him to do badly at a combination. Right?

The starting signal went off, and once again, Danny shot away from the line. He maintained a steady run, kept his eye on the first hurdle coming up. There were two more right after, and he was mentally calculating if he could clear them in one go or not–

First hurdle, strong push with his leg, and off the ground he went. Second and third hurdle flew by as well, and Danny quickly made his way to the finish line.

Miss Tetslaff eyed his critically, then heaved a weary sigh.

“Mr. Fenton,” she said. “You are aware of the fact that you were supposed to run this course?”

“Um.” Hadn’t he? He turned around to look at the course, very sure that he had, at least, started with his feet on the ground. In doing so, however, he noticed that he was definitely floating now. “I… Oh. How, uh. How long have I been flying?”

“You didn’t notice?” Dash exclaimed, this time having witnessed the whole thing since he wasn’t in the same group. “Are you serious, Fenton?”

He flushed green again and opened his mouth to reply, but Sam cut in before he could. “Flying comes naturally to ghosts, Dash. Plus, have you ever seen Phantom not float?”

Tetslaff shook her head but noted down the time anyway. “Doesn’t matter anyway,” she decided, with a quiet grumble to her voice. “We have no one to compare his data to anyway, and we can’t have him compete either.”

Which they had, apparently, seriously considered. Even though 1) that would’ve been cheating, since Danny wasn’t human, and 2) Danny didn’t have the time for it. Seriously, he couldn’t even keep up with school! How would on Earth would he make time for sports? Also why? He genuinely had better things to do.

Sam and Tucker ribbed at him, of course, for accidentally flying his lap instead of running it, but thankfully no one else gave him trouble. And so the rest of gym class passed by without further problems, too.

Danny laid on his desk, head resting on his folded arms. Sure, he should be paying attention to Mr. Lancer. But the teacher was just so boring, and he was so tired. He hadn’t slept well last night – several ghost attacks had interrupted him as always. And sleeping in his jumpsuit proved to be more difficult than he had expected, too.

So now here he was, almost asleep during English class. Blinking very slowly – but making sure to open his eyes again every time. He didn’t want to fall asleep, but… it was very tempting.

Lancer was keeping an eye on him, though. Despite the man knowing about the cause of his troubles – or perhaps because of it – he continued to push Danny. It was probably well-intentioned, but sometimes Danny just wished the man would stop.

Not that he said that out loud, though. Everyone in Amity knew not to make wishes – and even if he worded it differently, Danny didn’t want to hurt Lancer’s feelings. Especially if the man was just trying to be nice, or do the right thing.

“Mr. Fenton,” the teacher called, and Danny almost didn’t squash the groan he wanted to give.

Instead he mumbled a wordless reply. Pushed himself up a little further, the glow of his eyes making them look sharper than he really was. “Myeah?”

“Could you tell us the answer to the question, please?”

His eyes moved from the teacher to the board he was standing next to. It was, surprisingly, a question he knew the answer to. For once, he had read the book – and remembered enough about it, too.

So, naturally, he gave the answer the teacher was looking for.

“Excuse me?” Lancer asked, looking confused and somewhat thrown off.

Danny repeated his answer, frowning. He was sure that he was right, so why was Lancer acting so weird?

Sam nudged him, and he looked over at her with a brow quirked. “You’re speaking in ghost, Danny,” she explained.

“Oh,” he said. “Uh, sorry.” He turned back to Mr. Lancer and repeated, once again, the answer – this time making sure he stuck to English.

The teacher shook his head in exasperation. “Yes, that is correct. Thank you Mr. Fenton, and please try to stick to English next time.”

He ducked his head, cold crawling up to his cheeks – blushing green once again. “Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

Seeing that the teacher was distracted, Valerie leaned over to his desk. “Does that happen often?”

“Slipping into ghost?” he asked, sinking down on his arms again. “Usually only when I’m in ghost form, and even then only when I’m tired or distracted.”

She nodded, scribbling something down in her notebook. Seeing the motion, he cocked his head at the book. “Keeping notes, Val?”

“Yeah,” she carelessly admitted, looking back at him. “Someone has to. Besides, Dani keeps dropping by and knowing more about you translates into knowing more about her.”

Valerie toyed with the pen in her hands. “Can… humans learn that? Ghost, I mean? Or is it a language of the dead only?”

“Ask Sam or Tuck.” Danny shrugged, not that it was very visible since he was still lying down. “It comes naturally to me – sounds just like English, too.”

Another nod. A soft scratching as she noted down this, too. At the front, Lancer had fallen silent.

Danny risked a look over and saw that they were supposed to be reading, now. He opened his book, eyes aimed at it but not actually reading. He wouldn’t remember any of it, anyway. Not with how sleepy he was.

Besides, he was warm and surprisingly comfy. Surrounded by his three best friends, who would surely keep his safe – even if he was in danger, which he wasn’t.

“Are you purring,” Valerie hissed, incredulous.

“No,” he protested, not even bothering to prop himself up or to stop the rumbling coming from him. “I’m not a cat, I don’t purr.”

She looked at him, skeptically. Sam now also leaned in closer – glancing at Lancer to make sure he didn’t notice – and added, “His core hums when he’s content. You just usually can’t tell because the flesh of his human form mutes it.”

“In other words–” Tucker shot Valerie a grin as he, too, joined the conversation. “–it’s absolutely purring.”

Danny groaned, but didn’t say anything. He stood no chance against the combined forces of his friends.

And so, content and surrounded by the soft voices of his friends, Danny Fenton-Phantom fell asleep.

Still purring, of course.

[fangirl-skeleton]

How Do You Say ‘I Love You?’

A/N: So I've never actually written for a ship before. They've all been reader inserts, so bear with me.

Also idk if I'm actually going to make this into a series, every time I do I end up giving up, so I'm not going to make any commitments this time. And I'm sorry if I kinda shoved a bunch of different tropes into this one chapter.

But I had the idea for this and I had to write it. So here you go!

(This is based off of the song 'If I Could Tell Her' from Dear Evan Hansen btw. Virgil's lines are underlined in that song for your convenience.)

(Oh also this kinda came out angstier than I originally intended, I promise it's not too bad and the fluff outweighs it, but it does kinda have some angst mentioned.)

Warning: Mentions of anxiety (wow shocking), kinda angsty, repression, suggestive jokes I guess?

Word count: 2,683

It was just after 5 pm, and while the rest of the cast and crew of his schools production had left, Virgil Grey remained behind to continue working on the set. Technically, he wasn't supposed to be there after school without teacher supervision, but since he was a senior and in charge of the painting of the set, the staff of the school had decided to turn a blind eye.

Virgil had worked on the stage crew every year since he was a freshman. As much as he loved it, to be honest he had always wanted to be a part of the cast. Unfortunately, he had always been too anxious to even bring himself to audition, and he always regretted it afterwards. It wasn't exactly a fun cycle to be stuck in, but this was the last production before he graduated, meaning he had just let his last opportunity to break out of that cycle pass him by.

He wondered how Roman did it. Roman Prince, his boyfriend of four months, never seemed to have an issue with putting himself out there. On the student council, theatre star, talented singer and musician, Spanish Language captain. He was the lead in the production for the second year running, playing Evan Hansen. It was almost frightening how Roman was so different from his character, and yet he played him so well.

Virgil was amazed at the way that other people's words never seemed to get to him, but there was always that part of him who was a little jealous; he thought as he continued packing up paint cans and brushes into a cuboard below the stage. While he was doing that, something caught his eye. The Dear Evan Hansen CD that they had used in rehearsals before they had found somebody to play the piano accompaniment. He picked it up, remembering how the CD player was still somewhere in the wings of the stage. Maybe he couldn't bring himself to sing in front of everybody, but he just wanted to get up on that stage at least once before he graduated. Nobody else was here.

Nervous but excited, Virgil climbed back up the stairs to the wings of the stage. Grabbing the CD player and plugging it in just off to the side, his mind and heart were racing. He had remembered to lock the doors, right? Since the school was mostly empty of students, there hadn't been a reason to leave them open.

Taking a deep breath, he hit play on the second track, slowly stepping to the middle of the stage as the gentle piano began to play. The words were coming. He breathed out, letting his nerves ease up, and allowing him to lose himself in the song.

I've learned to slam on the breaks Before I've even turned the key. Before I make the mistake, Before I lead with the worst of me.

The first few lines rang out through the hall quieter than he meant them to. Somebody could hear, he thought, before pushing it to the back of his mind. The doors were locked and the windows were too high up to see through. Even if they did hear, how would anybody know that it was him?

Give them no reason to stare. No slipping up if you slip away. So I've got nothing to share, No I've got nothing to say.

Step out, step out of the sun If you keep getting burned. Step out, step out of the sun, Because you've learned,because you've learned.

He took one more deep breath in, letting the song completely take him over.

On the outside always looking in Will I ever be more than I've always been? Cause I'm tap, tap, tapping on the glass. I'm waving through a window.

I try to speak but nobody can hear So I sit around for an answer to appear, While I'm watch, watch, watching people pass. Waving through a window.

Can anybody see? Is anybody waving back at me?

Suddenly Virgil heard footsteps from the wings of the stage. His heart leapt, as he quickly shut the music off, and his mind started running through places to disappear, before none other than Roman stepped out, clapping slowly, a huge smile on his face.

"Hey, Roman. I- uh..." Virgil stuttered. "I didn't know anybody was still here."

Roman walked closer to him. "I didn't know you could sing like that." He grinned. Virgil blushed. "Really, you sound great."

"You think?" Virgil replied sheepishly, brushing his hair out of his face.

"Yeah, you're way better than some of the people in the production." Roman said, taking both of the shorter boys hands in his.

"Thanks." Virgil replied, not really knowing what else to say. "What are you doing here so late?"

Roman shrugged. "I realized my jacket wasn't in my locker. I think I left it here somewhere after rehearsal."

Virgil just then noticed that Roman wasn't wearing his bomber jacket, which didn't happen often at school. White, with gold around the sleeves and collar. Roman wore it everywhere, but now he just stood there in a red t-shirt.

"Oh, I haven't seen it anywhere, but I can help you look." Virgil offered.

"You're not busy?"

Virgil shook his head. "Just packed up. Wait, how did you get in here anyway?"

Roman laughed. "You left the back door unlocked."

Virgil grimaced. "Right."

After quickly fixing that, the two headed into one of the wings to look for the jacket.

"Where did you actually leave it?" Virgil asked, checking one of the low shelves where people usually left spare props and clothes.

"On there, but I think somebody might've moved it." Roman pointed to an empty table.

Virgil walked over to the table, ducking down to look under it. "Oh, here it is." He pulled it out by the sleeve, but slipped on a random chord when he tried to stand back up. "Whoa!"

He felt Roman catch him from behind before he could fall, one arm around his waist, the other around his shoulders. He was looking straight up at Roman, who was grinning stupidly.

"Hey there." Roman smirked. "You okay?"

"I-I'm fine." Virgil assured him. "Did you like, plan that or something? Not that I'm really complaining..."

Roman laughed. "I did not plan anything, I guess that fate keeps throwing us together."

"Well preferably not in a literal sense next time." Virgil said. "Here."

He unwrapped himself from Roman's arms and pulled the jacket over the taller boys shoulders. Roman put the sleeves on, and Virgil fixed the collar, before gently pulling Roman forward into a soft kiss. Roman automatically wrapped his arms around Virgil's waist, before Virgil pulled away and wandered over to perch on the edge of the table.

"So, how's the rehearsal going?" He asked.

Roman walked over to where Virgil was sitting, wrapping his arms around the back of his neck. Virgil lazily placed his legs around either side of Romans, bolder than he would normally be at school since he was confident that nobody else was there. "It's going well, I suppose. I don't know."

Virgil cocked his head. "Something wrong?"

Roman sighed. "It's just the scenes where Evan and Zoe are alone together. Don't get me wrong, Elle makes an incredible Zoe. It's just that apparently, my emotions aren't convincing enough."

"What do you mean, you're an amazing actor?" Virgil asked, though he had a feeling that he knew what Roman meant.

Virgil knew all too well why it was so hard for Roman to play a role where Virgil's twin sister, Elle, was playing his love interest. The two had been best friends throughout middle school, and were still super close, but a lot had happened within that time. During freshman year, before either of them had come out, the two had ended up dating. Awkwardly.

Even though most of their school had been convinced, the people close to them (Virgil, the rest of their families, their best friends Patton Foster and Logan Berry, Elle's now-girlfriend Audrey) had guessed what was going on long before either of them told anyone. Virgil had been at a different middle school than Roman and Elle, since he hand't been comfortable with such a big one, so he hadn't met Roman properly until high school. Virgil had had a crush on him since then, however, including the time in which he and Elle had dated.

For the past two years, the two had moved on like nothing had ever happened, but playing two roles like Evan and Zoe was surely bringing up memories of that period of repression that they'd both rather forget. It couldn't be easy.

"Apparently I don't look like I'm 'interested enough' in her. The director kept reminding me constantly. I understand where he was coming from, but he was getting rather harsh about it, I'd say." Roman looked so frustrated. He was trying to act like he was mad at the director, but Virgil could guess pretty easily that he was mad at himself.

"Ro, I'm sorry, I know that having to act like that with her again must be hard, even if it is just part of a play."

Roman laughed lightly. "To be honest, all I wanted was to turn around and tell him that he had the wrong Grey twin for that."

Virgil pulled him closer, Roman leaning down and gently kissing him on the forehead, making his cheeks turn bright red. "You're too charming, Princey."

"You flatter me."

Virgil laughed, before he had an idea. "You know, I could always help you practice. We could even try now, if you want?"

Roman looked surprised. "Really? Thank you, darling, that would be amazing! You know Zoe's lines for the scene?"

Virgil rolled his eyes, climbing up from where he sat, but keeping hold of Roman's hands. "Trust me, I know it too well. Elle never stops practicing. Our rooms are right next to each other, and the walls are stupidly thin."

Roman smirked. "Thin walls, hey? I better remember that for later on."

Virgil raised an eyebrow, though he was trying really hard not to blush. "Watch it." He warned Roman.

Roman held up his hands. "Fine, fine."

Virgil shook his head in laughter, pulling Roman along to the stage. "You're a weirdo."

"And you find it charming, my dear."

Virgil switched on the CD player, before joining Roman on the edge of the prop bed that was still on the stage. "Shut up."

He did.

The music started playing around them, and Virgil watched as Roman's mannerisms instantly switched over. He started fiddling with his hands, hunching over more, looking terrified and shy, just like his character.

"He thought you were awesome." He stuttered out the first line perfectly.

"He thought I was awesome? My brother?" Virgil tried his best to characterize Zoe the same way his sister did, although he knew that he was too nervous to focus on it. He knew how the song went. Was it too soon to say it? He wanted to, but he was terrified.

"Definitely." Roman continued.

"How?"

"Well..."

He said, there's nothing like your smile,

Sort of subtle, and perfect, and real.

Roman's voice was enchanting, and Virgil immediately felt some of his anxiousness slip away. The way that Roman was looking at him, he wished that he could just stare at him all day. Oh god, that sounded really creepy now that he thought about it.

He said, you never knew how wonderful that smile could make someone feel.

And he knew, whenever you get bored you scribble stars on the cuffs of your jeans.

And he noticed, that you still fill out those quizzes that they put in those teen magazines.

Roman grabbed both of Virgil's hands, pulling the two of them to their feet. This wasn't part of the directions, Virgil knew, but he guessed Roman was just doing his own thing this time.

But he kept it all inside his head,

What he saw, he left unsaid.

And though he wanted to, he couldn't talk to you,

He couldn't find a way,

But he would always say...

Roman dropped Virgil's hands, wrapping his arms around Virgil's shoulders like they were slow-dancing.

If I could tell her, tell her everything I see.

If I could tell her, how she's everything to me.

Roman let go, taking a couple of steps backwards as he sang.

But we're a million worlds apart,

And I don't know how I would even start.

If I could tell her...

If I could tell her...

Roman slowly paced back to Virgil, before they both sat back down on the edge of the bed.

"Did he say anything else?" Virgil spoke the lines clearly, but he was almost completely unaware of what he was saying, he was so caught up in the moment.

"A-about you?"

"NevermindIdon'treallycareanywa-"

"No no, he said so many things, I'm just trying to remember the best ones!"

He thought, you looked really pretty-

Or uh- It looked pretty cool when you put indigo streaks in your hair.

Roman gently brushed Virgil's purple bangs out of his face. It had never occurred to Virgil how well the lyrics fit the two of them until now, but oh my god. It was kind of insane. Roman quickly pulled Virgil to his feet again.

And he wondered how you learned to dance like all the rest of the world isn't there.

Roman spun him around slowly, grinning like an idiot.

But he kept it all inside his head,

What he saw, he left unsaid.

If I could tell her, tell her everything I see.

If I could tell her, how she's everything to me.

But we're a million worlds apart.

They both sang that line, stepping back slightly. Virgil wondered how he even managed to get it out, as the moment he was anticipating drew closer.

And I don't know how I could even start.

If I could tell her...

If I could tell her.

But what do you do when there's this great divide?

Roman stepped even further back across the stage.

He just seemed so far away...

And what do you do when the distance is too wide?

It's like I don't know anything...

And how do you say...

Virgil's breath hitched in his throat. Sure, they were acting, but they had never said it to each other before. This felt real, and the look in Roman's eyes just made it feel more real. One of pure adoration.

...I love you?

I love you.

He stepped closer every time he said it, and Virgil's heart beat faster.

I love you.

I love you.

Virgil wasn't supposed to join in on that line, he knew it. It just felt... right. Like all the air had been knocked out of him, in a good way. Roman couldn't keep the smile from his face, but somehow looked like he was on the verge of tears at the same time. They were close enough to join hands again, Roman resting their foreheads together gently. He sung the next part softly enough that even if they had been surrounded by people, Virgil still would have been the only one who heard it.

But we're a million worlds apart,

And I don't know how I would even start.

If I could tell her...

He pulled away, holding Virgil's face in his hands, looking at him like he was the whole world.

If I could...

He immediately pulled Virgil in to kiss him, like he had to do it before he heard whatever Virgil might say. It was clear that he was just as scared.

"I mean it Virgil." He whispered. "I love you."

Virgil felt like he was on top of the world, like his heart was going to explode. "I love you too, Roman."

They kissed again, this time Virgil pulling Roman in first. Afterwards, Virgil pulled himself close to Roman's chest, Roman resting his head on top of Virgil's.

"Kind of cheesy, isn't it, falling in love in the middle of a stage?" Virgil mumbled.

Roman smiled. "I suppose it is, my love."

A/N: Aaaahhhh okay I’ve never actually posted a fic directly to Tumblr before, it’s up on my Wattpad too (same username), please like or reblog if you enjoyed!

[0erasurehero0]

The Reaper of Ashmore: Chapter two

Hey, it’s been a while! Finally I have updated The Reaper of Ashmore (TROA)! I’m excited for what you think!

@rayonfrozenwings @dragonbound135 @a-court-of-ink-and-paper @i-put-the-sass-in-assassin @repressed-feels-syndrome @the-bookish-soul

I tagged those who were in the comments and those who asked to be tagged. If you want to be tagged for further updates just say so. I’m sorry if I missed anyone.

                                                 Chapter Two:

                                                 Wake Up Call

 Groaning, Ash slipped from the black, silk sheets and stepped into the bathing chamber. A large, claw foot tub leaned against the far wall; the sink stood on the right along with the toilet. On the left wall was a rack that held towels, bath products, and clothes. A door on the left led to the walk-in closet.

        She turned the faucet and began running a hot bath--it was to relax her muscles, which seemed to twist together when she got drunk. These days, it feels as if her muscles are twisted every other day.

        Reaching behind her, Ash plucked the bottle of bath salts off from the ground and poured some into the bath. The water was so hot that steam billowed all around her. She sighed; this was going to be wonderful.

        Slipping off the robe that hung closely to her hips, Ash carefully stepped into the bath, hissing at the warmth that greeted her.

        She stayed in the water until it was cold, or to the point where her toes were so pruned she looked like she had aged a hundred years.

        Stepping out of the tub, she got dressed quickly--dark red undershirt, brown leathers on her chest, shoulders, knees, wrists, and elbows, brown, knee-high boots, and a pair of black pants. These were the clothes she wore most around the kingdom. She had a nicer pair of leathers, full body on, that she wore when traveling.

        Or when she felt particularly good-looking that day.

        Ash ran her hair through a towel, it would dry quickly considering it was so short, and stood in front of the mirror.

        Her skin was as pale as snow, her dark, brown short hair (styled as an undercut) hung slightly in her face. She quickly fixed it so that most of the hair was slicked back, except for one short piece that was flipped and hung in her face. But it wouldn’t affect her activities.

She found herself as being...pretty. Pretty boyish, that is. It wasn’t her fault. She knew a lot of women in her family that were the same way. It was just something in her genes.

        But she couldn’t deny the fact that she liked it this way. Her looks attracted the attention both of that of men and women, giving her an advantage in the dating world.

        As if she’d date at all. No one wants the commander--they want the royal.

        The clock on the wall dinged, indicating that it was time for the classes to begin. Ash turned to leave, but stopped short when she realized she was forgetting something. She snatched up the sunglasses from the bathroom counter and swiftly made her escape.

                                              ******************

        The halls were eerily quiet at this time in the morning. No one was awake except for the students, who were kept in a separate wing in the palace.

        She stopped by the kitchen and grabbed one of the pastries that her favorite cook left for her--a middle-aged woman with olive skin and dark, greying hair. Her eyes were a forest green that always seemed to be alight with joy.

        “Thanks Madame Renee!” I slipped out of the kitchen, but listened for Renee’s reply.

        “That child--always in a hurry.”

        Laughing, Ash jogged down the hall.  

        Swiftly making her way down the winding corridor that encompassed many rooms that held sleeping royals and royal advisors, Ash went over today’s agenda:

        First, eat breakfast.

        She stared down at the half-eaten pastry in her hand and smiled a closed lipped smile. Check.

        Second, find out whether the shop has obtained any more steel or not. Preferably the kind that can be stained with color for pleasing-my-eyes-type-of-purposes.

        “Ah, so we’ve already begun the day with a tedious task. Wonderful,” she said to herself.

        Ash came to a stop at two tall, mahogany double doors. They were intricately designed with patterns of the tails of snakes, dragons, sea serpents, the marks of sharp-clawed beasts, flowers, vines, what seemed to be a child-like drawing of wind, and words written in the ancient language. All this was carved into the mouth of a sharp fanged wolf. The top of the mouth started at the top of the doors, widening all the way to the bottom of the doors.

        Ash smiled to herself. According to knowledge of only her, her brother, and her mother, Ash had helped design that door. With the help of her Vallasar, Zenaida, they two of them spent a month of brainstorming, sketching, then carving into the two large slabs of mahogany. It was one of her favorite things she had ever created, especially since she did it with Zenny.

        Ash gave a little knock as a warning that she was about to enter and pushed open the doors.

        She stepped into chaos.

        People milled about the room, using their outside voices, giving her a headache. They jumped person to person, pointing something out on a piece of paper or object that they held. She saw a group of blondes bent over some papers, maps, and figurines on a table in front of the far wall. A wall completely open to the outside world. Magic kept things from getting in and from getting out.

        Oh, and glass, of course.

        Ash frowned and strode over to the table full of blondes in the back of the room. She considered what all the hubbub could possibly be about, but nothing rang a bell. The only thing she could determine it being was that they called for a meeting that she simply just wasn’t invited to.

        What a bunch of cowards, she thought to herself. Too scared to come and talk to me when I’ve woken up with a hangover. I’m not that bad.

        If she were honest with herself, Ash quite enjoyed the fact that they feared her. It gave her a sort of leverage.

        She stopped in front of the group of people and leaned against a pillar that lined the steps leading up to the dais where the table stood. No one turned. No one even seemed to notice her.

        Rubbing her hands together, Ash cleared her throat.

        Again, no one turned.

        Clapping her hands together once and clearing her throat with obvious annoyance, Ash was finally able to gain the attention of the blondes.

        They turned in unison.

        The royals. The king, queen, prince, and princesses.  King Rynses was a…burly man. He was covered in hair, heavy set and still slightly muscular around the arms from sword training, and riddled with power. It seemed to pool off him in waves of green.

        Power had a visible color to her while others never could see it.

        Her step mother, the queen, stood tall in all her green glory. She was a perfect match for the king, Ash had noticed a long while ago. The older woman, around in her fifties, wore an emerald gown etched in silver and gold around the bodice, sleeves, and hem of the dress. She smiled wickedly when she realized who it was that interrupted their meeting.

        Her father huffed.

        “I was wondering where you were! I sent Willham to go get you up, but I guess he forgot.” The king swung is head over to Ash’s little, half-brother. The fourteen-year-old smiled apologetically.

        Her father turned back around, a warm smile coating his face. He always seemed to smile so wide that his eyes would automatically close. She loved it.

        “Ash, my dear, we’ve noticed a few problems have begun to arise in Ether. We’re not sure what it is that’s causing the issues but…we know what the issue is.” The king rubbed his face, a heavy, tired sigh rising from him.

        “And? What’s the problem?” I pushed off from the pillar and crossed my arms. I could feel my heart beginning to beat to rhythm of excitement.

        “Things aren’t dying,” he whispered.

        Ash’s breath caught in her throat as she tried to gasp. Her eyes widened with disbelief.

        As if! I would have known. I would have felt it!

        “That can’t possibly be! What are the statistics…what are the numbers? How many are past their death date?”

        Out of nervous habit, I began tapping my foot against the linoleum. The clicking of my shoe rang out against the room and it gained the attention of a few onlookers. My heart began racing to the beat of fear, confusion, and fury.

        Only one creature can stop death.

        A death god.

        And one seems to be messing with the fabric of life.

        That son of a bitch, Ash thought. And an idiot at that. A death god knows better than to stop death. Especially without permission from the mother goddesses.Or from their own mother. Even a mother can change an all powerful god’s mind.

        “Ash, I need you to round up a team of Reapers and head into Ether to deal out death slips.” Ash, I need you to round up a team of Reapers and finish the job. Kill those who did not die.

        She hadn’t been sent on a mission in a while. What about her vacation…she was supposed to leave tomorrow for…well, she forgot where she was supposed to be going but it didn’t matter. It was a break from this place.

        “And on the matter of your vacation…after you’ve done your job, you and your students may stay in Ether for two more weeks to do as you please.”

        It was still a vacation and she’d take it. Ash gave her a father a smile and bowed before running out of the room.

        Her father yelled out, stopping her for a second. “Ash?”

        “Yes, your majesty?”

        “Appoint a second, third, and fourth in command. I’ve noticed the trouble you get into. It might be best to have backups…just in case.”

        Ash lifted her chin. “The probability of me dying is a low one.”

        King Rynses raised his head in turn. “But it is a probable one.”

        And with that, Ash ran out of the room and made her way toward her classroom. Class would be taken outside later today.

        The room teemed with tired souls and some of those few that were always hyper. Ash made her way toward her desk and set down a cup of coffee.

        She had a feeling she would need two more cups before the end of today’s lesson.

        “Good morning! How is everyone today?” Always greet the class with a smile and go-lucky expression. The first lesson on how to get your students to somewhat like you.

        A series of groans and grunts filled the room. Ash’s smile faltered as she realized this was going to be slightly difficult if no one wanted to cooperate. With a sigh, she walked to chalk board near the right wall and began writing down today’s objective.

        Defeat level twenty angel. Raise a level forty demon. I placed the chalk back into its spot and read over what I wrote. They were ahead in their demon studies. I had always preferred demonology over angelology. Demons were, after all, her specialty.

        Someone from the top row whistled. “Is there some special thing or exam going on that we should know about? Because raising a level forty demon is way ahead in our lessons.”

        There could be a slight chance, Ash thought to herself, that I forgot to mention that they stopped on raising a level twenty-five demon. They go by fives, except that the first demon is a level one.

        Ash squared her shoulders and swung around to face her students. She gave them a toothy grin, her capped fangs glinting in the light. Too many sweets as a child.

        “Well, you see, we’ve come face to face with a real issue. I need all of you trained. Fully trained.”

        Someone scoffed. “The new year practically began yesterday, and you want us trained fully by the end of this day? How in the realms are you gonna accomplish that?”

        “First, Seraphine, use proper grammar. It’s ‘going to’ not ‘gonna’. And you shouldn’t underestimate me. You’d be surprised by what your mentor can accomplish in one day.”

        The room was silent, the only sounds being that of pen tapping and feet shuffling. Ash huffed.

        “A lot! I can do a lot in one day!”

        I was pretty sure this day was going to last a lot longer than I had anticipated. I was just hoping that the students would understand, would listen.

        “Wait, does that mean we’re going to be fighting really soon?”

        Ash glanced up toward the top row of seats. A young man, around the age of twenty-three, her age, was seated far into his seat. It was as if he was trying to hide.

        “Ah, that. Well, I’m not so sure. But by the end of the day I will be taking three of you with me to Ether to attend a mission with me. Those three will be named my second, third, and fourth in commands. Today’s lesson is a competition.”

        I swiftly made my way towards the chalk board and drew out my plan for the lesson.

        “There will be ten teams of three. I will give each team a paper with six objectives written down that you must complete in the span of an hour. The objectives are pretty easy to understand; three of them are to defeat a certain level angel and three are to raise and control a certain level demon. The levels will be a surprise. Use the techniques you’ve learned these past few months; all of them will help you. I will not make you do anything I know you can’t do. If you lose control of a demon or angel, I will be there to assist you. I will hover over each team for ten minutes apiece. One team will have my help in the beginning and the other at the end.

        I will select who will be on each team. I will select who I help first and in what order I want to help them. I won’t stand there for ten minutes for each team, I’ll spread the time out. Maybe I’ll help you for five minutes in the beginning and then five minutes at the end. Or I’ll help you for two minutes here, four minutes there, and another four minutes some other time. This class is dismissed.”

        Everyone packed their things and began to leave, but before they could go I stopped them.

        “I’ll have some syllabuses ready later when we begin. For now, dress in your reaper gear and eat something. Rest your bodies. Try to stay relaxed as this is not for a grade. Really, just think about is a competition.”

        Again, they turned and opened the door, but I had remembered one last thing and stopped them once more.

        They groaned and turned to face me.

        “And remember—if you do win and go with me to Ether…you can die. You do not gain your indestructible abilities until after graduation. Please, remember that. But do not slow your team down because of this. If your team wins and you do not want to go, I will replace you with someone on the second-place team. Now, you may leave.”