#now I’ve gotta get back in the game with this little multi chapter

[normally-o-a-k]

Hey look a fanfiction

Scam/Jodie

Friends to lovers, multi chapter, no beta we die like Glenn, idk what to tag this I’ve never written fic before lmao, spoilers kinda? There’s some more chatting with the season one dads on the phone lmao it’s not the whole chapter don’t worry.

Rating: still Teen

Chap 6/?

(Double update today!)

Previous chapter:

Jodie couldn’t sleep at all, lying on his side, wings folded behind him, the tip of his tail repeatedly tapping the bed.

He was completely restless. Talking with Glenn had gone better than he expected, but still… his warning had made him uneasy.

Sure he liked Scam… but did he trust him?

He didn’t think he could honestly answer yes…

By morning he’d only gotten two hours of sleep, every minute of his dream spent back on the couch with Scam. He climbs out of bed, showers ,dresses and gets breakfast, knowing better than to expect Scam at the breakfast table this time, he leaves Scam’s dish on the table and heads back to his office to try and get some work done so they could go out later.

Out with his boyfriend…

Jodie buries his face in his hands. He hadn’t been out on a date in…. Over a decade at least… and Hell’s date spots were limited to say the least… with the Doodler on earth it wasn’t exactly like he could take him there… it felt just a bit fucked up to be worrying about date spots when the other daddies and the kids were off trying to find a solution in the forgotten realms…. Should he call someone and ask for advice? Glenn and Ron were really the only two that knew…

He calls Glenn again.

“What’s up?”

“Did you meet up with everyone else?”

“Yeah yeah, we’re good man. You want to check in with Nicky?”

“Yeah, can I talk to you a bit first?… is it Uh, a bit fucked up that I’m taking time to date right now when you guys are trying to save Earth?”

“Yeah a little bit but…” Glenn sighs “man, everybody deserves love, no one’s going tell you not to try for it if you think there’s a chance… besides, we’re doing fine! We’ll probably have this Doodler thing solved in a couple more months…”

“Yeah… okay… look it’s been a while since I went out… I stopped doing date nights after Nicolas turned five…what’s a good-… what do I-“

“Okay okay, here’s the move, you gotta impress him! what are you good at?”

“Paperwork, killing, maiming…” Jodie Frowns.

“So like cop shit. Damn, you really are screwed aren’t you? I’m guessing you don’t want to just bone down, you probably want that sensitive style dating…”

“It’s called taking it slow idiot… but yeah… I…absolutely have to take it slow with him….shit Glenn he’s a really good kisser, I’ve never felt so out of control in my life…”

“Gross…”

“I mean, that too…but I lost control of my flames and nearly set him on fire…”

“Well fuck, man I don’t know… maybe like set up something romantic? Chicks love candles so maybe he will too? Henry is bi, you should ask him how to romance guys…” he calls Henry over “Hey Henry, come help this idiot”

“Hey Jodie! How’s h-e-double hockey sticks? Jodie says you need help? I don’t know if I can help but I’ll give it my best shot!”

“Hey Henry, uh look I, can you keep this from the kids? I started seeing someone new… and I’m a little rusty on romance…”

“Oh Sure buddy! Mercedes and I do date night weekly, and I don’t mean to toot my own horn but I think they’re pretty darn romantic! What’s your new beau like? You know, A lot of romance is showing the person how well you know them”

“He uh, he’s clever, and he loves games… and stirring things up… he always dresses nice… his favorite movie is Hero… he smells like axe …” he smiles “he’s fun…“

“He likes games and stirring things up…and he smells like axe body spray?” Henry pieces it together pretty easily “Jodie… are you sure dating this guy is a good idea?”

“What..because of the axe? It’s not that bad, it kinda smells nice after a while…”

“No because it’s…” Henry whispers “Scam Actually?” He sighs “I know he’s mellowed out a bit, but I mean…you know what? No. you’re a grown guy, you can make your own decisions, and most of his pranks didn’t actually put any of us in real danger…I’ll support you! So …… you need ideas on how to romance him? ….Does he eat?”

“He ate yesterday? I don’t think he needs to though….? I think he might have been serious about feeding on misery”

“Well there ya go! There’s a lot of that down in Heck now isn’t there? Why not treat him to a misery buffet? He’d probably love that kind of thing!”

“Yeah I think you’re right… but is that romantic enough?”

“Probably? If you’re looking to tell how he feels about you why don’t you ask? A little emotional honesty is good for a starting relationship!”

“Henry I can’t do that!” He wasn’t ready at all for that kind of talk.

“Okay well you know, some people find that hard and that’s okay! there’s another way to get at least an Idea of what’s in his heart, it’s like that song by Cher says ‘it’s in his kiss’! So when you get to that point, you’ll probably be able to feel his emotions by how passionate it is!”

Jodie turns a brighter red “Henry I’ve kissed him twice…”

“Is it insensitive if I ask how that went? I’m sorry if it is, I’m just super curious!”

“It … was the best kiss of my life… he left me breathless twice… I can’t tell what his emotions were through a kiss like that Henry, I barely kept control of myself” He rubs his face with both his hands “it’s embarrassing….”

“With… with Scam? I mean I guess I can see that?… he’s pretty charismatic? He’s not…not good looking? How did it happen?” Henry sounded hesitant to say the least

“During truth or dare…and then once after he confessed…”

“You willingly played truth or dare with him?! Jodie is that safe? You remember last time-“

“I know but it was… it was fun Henry, I actually had a pretty good time…he didn’t make me do anything I didn’t already want to… “

“You guys are probably a better match then I thought… I wouldn’t have been brave enough to play another game of it with him that’s for sure…”

“I’m glad I did it.”

“Look Jodie, I know we said it was going to be a week, but the plan failed and we could really use him back, he’s actually a pretty good asset in fights…”

“yeah… okay” Shit, he’d been banking on having him stay the week.

“We can do without him for today, it’ll probably be fine…so maybe if you sent him back tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah…thanks Henry… can you put Nicky on the phone?”

“Yeah sure buddy… sorry for, you know..”

“It’s fine, priorities, I get it…”

He felt guilty now for wanting to spend more time with Scam. He could hear the phone getting passed off.

“Hey dad.”

“How was it? Are you alright?”

“You worry too much… I’m fine! We had to take out two giants because Henry blew our cover and then Glenn and Ron got separated from us. We should have sent you Henry to watch, he’s so bad at lying.” He laughs.

“Yeah Henry is a pretty bad liar” he smiles but then realizes that the pretty bad liar knows what’s up with him and Scam so it’s only matter of time before everyone knows.

“How’s it going with Glenn?”

“Good actually…”

“I know it’s probably a bit difficult remembering two different-“

“Dad I’m fine. We’ve talked about this I’m not you.”

“Okay…but you know if you want a break-“

“I don’t want to go stay with mom. I want to help my friends.”

“Alright Nicky.”

“How was babysitting Scam?”

It was an innocent question but Jodie felt instantly embarrassed. “Pretty good actually, we had a fun time.”

“He’s kinda fun I guess. He hasn’t messed with you?” He laughs

“No, nothing too bad, he took off for a bit and had me looking through repeating rooms for an hour or so last night but that’s about the worst of it”

“Weird….hey uh It looks like Ron’s about to fill us in on last night so I gotta go… see you Dad.”

“Love you, stay safe.”

The phone clicks and Jodie puts it back down on his desk, he leans back in his chair and closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Shit, there goes his week… and it didn’t sound like Nicky and Glenn were coming back any time soon either.

He felt so guilty for wishing Scam could just stay…At least they had today…

He leaves his office and heads down the hall to look for Scam.

———

Scam had admittedly taken some things for granted. One of them had been the (apparently inaccurate) freedom to roam Jodie’s castle. He’d decided to take a walk after Jodie said Goodnight to relax, and said walk had led him past some really interesting looking doors, Interesting enough that stopping infront of them got him chased out of the hallway by guards.

Which is exactly when he’d got it in his head that breaking and entering was probably a great way to blow off steam. Jodie had forbidden him from using magic with his dare and he wasn’t going to break the rules of a game so he’d have to do it the old fashioned way.

By the look of the absolutely massive golden doors this was probably the treasury, which meant it wasn’t going to be easy to get in and out unnoticed. This also meant it had the potential to be very very fun.

He waits around the corner taking inventory of what he had on hand. He couldn’t change himself or summon other items without magic so this was a rather serious test of skill for him. He’d have to thank Jodie for such a fun evening in the morning.

He hums to himself, pulling on some fingerless gloves, fashion was the first step in any plan after all. He laments the fact that he’d have to stay in his burnt suit for this but there was no getting around it without magic, his entire wardrobe was tied up in glamor magic so he was sure it would definitely count as a spell if he used it. He reaches into his pouch and tosses a vial of alchemical sleep gas around the corner at the guards, waiting for a moment for it to kick in.

Once he heard the telltale thump of both guards hitting the floor he rounds the corner and pulls out thieves tools, getting to work on the lock, popping it easily. Feeling emboldened by how easy this was so far, he decides to add a bit of flourish to his ‘just go in and out’ plan, maybe he’d just take a single thing and give it back to Jodie in the morning as a souvenir of his little caper. He hops over a few obvious traps and heads straight for a crown set on a pedestal in the center of the room. Perfection! He could just imagine the look on Jodie’s face when he drops his treasured crown into his lap, he’d have to be impressed! His grin widens and he grabs the crown.

Which didn’t feel like a crown at all. Instead the metal instantly liquified, fusing to the pedestal and trapping Scams hand between the two.

“Uh oh~ This isn’t a very good look~”, recognizing that he was effectively trapped there, he just poses for the drama of it. It took less than a few seconds for a dozen or so guards to find him like that.

It didn’t quite hit Scam how much trouble he was actually in until His magic did not work when dawn hit. Unable to just teleport out of the cell they’d put him in, panic starts to set in, though he’d never show it on the surface. The dungeon was probably packed to the brim with magic cancelling items. “Hey Mr. Guard?~ yoo hoo, I need a little help over here~ you see this bar is a little loose, and if I were to move it I could just slip out~ and you wouldn’t want that would you?”

He waits for the guard to get close and keeps him distracted with the ‘not actually loose’ iron bar while he uses his tail to carefully remove the keys from the guards belt. He needed to get out of here and fast.

“I should have expected something like this.” Jodie descends the stone steps opposite Scam’s cell and frowns, looking exhausted and hurt.

Scam tenses, dropping the keys. He needed to play this off, so he backs away from the guard and leans against the bars, he laughs, trying to look sexy and unaffected by his own predicament. “fancy meeting you here~ do you come here often?”

It wasn’t working. Jodie’s frown deepens “I thought you didn’t care about money”

“Oh not at all, it’s pointless for someone like me~” He grins and reaches through the bars reaching for Jodie’s hand “you know me so well~ I knew you wouldn’t misunder-“

“Then why did you try and rob me last night? They literally caught you red handed…” Jodie pulls his hand away.

“Well Actually, They literally caught me Gold handed! I only broke in to see if I could and , what do you know, I was able to get in without any magic at all! Out not so much~ if I had been a bit less eager to surprise you it would have been fine~ It was all just a game! ” he was starting to get nervous now… Jodie was supposed to understand…

Jodie’s expression wasn’t softening. “How much of it was a game?”

“If I told you it was just the teensy bit of B&E would you even believe me?~ I think you have some wrong ideas about what I’d joke about~ you wound me Jodie!” He clasps his hands over his chest “How can I prove to you that you can trust little old Me~?”

“You’re in a cell Scam. I think it’s pretty clear I can’t.” Jodie sighs and turns to a guard. “Let him go. He’s leaving anyway.”

Scam’s expression drops “I thought we had a date planned?”

“Look around you Scam. Really take it in and ask yourself why you think that would possibly still happen?”

“You wouldn’t have been mad if I had pulled it off~ you would have even found it charming!” He steps around the guard who unlocked his cell, moving towards Jodie.

“Maybe, but How am I supposed to trust that you’re even telling me the truth about your plan?” Jodie still frowns but his expression does soften a bit. He stops making eye contact, focusing on the far wall instead of Scam’s visibly disappointed face. “Look, just…go okay?…they’re done with being undercover…and the date is off…so there’s no reason for you to hang around.” He opens a portal for Scam.

“I see.” He doesn’t try to defend himself any further, he steps through the portal and heads back to the Daddies.

[writingwife-83]

Hi,

Can I send you a dialogue prompt?

"There are times, Molly, when I ask myself "do trousers matter?"

"The mood will pass, Sherlock."

(it's a little bit of dialogue from a Jeeves and Wooster story, between a dippy rich man and his intelligent valet. It always makes me think of Sherlock in his bedsheet.)

Thank you!

Last one for the sentence starters! Thanks to all who sent them. 😘 btw, I’m totally unfamiliar with whatever Jeeves and Wooster is, but that’s a good quote for Sherlock lol! I went with a classic “drugged and confused about relationship status” trope for this one. Hope you like! 😁

“There are times, Molly, when I ask myself, ‘do trousers matter?’”

“The mood will pass, Sherlock,” Molly sighed, placing the back of her hand against his forehead. “At the moment I’m more concerned about making sure you clear what’s is in your system from that dart the suspect shot at you.”

He lifted the blankets momentarily to glance underneath, uttering a soft gasp before looking back at her and whispering, as if it were a secret, “I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable that as we speak, I’m not actually wearing any trousers!”

“No it doesn’t, seeing as I also helped you undress, helped you have a shower, and then helped you into fresh pants earlier, none of which made me uncomfortable either,” she explained with a patient smile as his eyes widened. “If that shocks you, you should hear about some of the other things we’ve done…in the five years we’ve been married.”

[eveningstar1516]

Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 11

Rise of the Demon King

Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: I gotta Discord server guys! It's primarily Obey Me but other fandoms are welcome as well. It's kinda baby and dead so me and the other members are looking to revive it and we'd love for you to come join us. A roleplay area is included :) https://discord.gg/F3YEmDZCPS Please remember to read and accept the rules once you join for access to all the channels. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously:

After that day, Beel would take responsibility for waking the youngest whenever he slept for too long and Belphie took responsibility for making sure Beel ate whenever he was awake. From that day forward, you’d never find one twin without the other close by. Their relationship strengthened, one relying on the other. Always being there when needed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ CHAPTER 11 - 2 Realms, 2 Families (2003 words)

Making my way up the palace steps, I took notice of the lack of angels tending the gardens or palace. Oh well, I thought to myself. It is still too early for any of them to get to work. Michael led me through the castle towards the throne room. It was the same route we took on my first day here, only this time, I had a sneaking suspicion that it was about to be my last. Stopping in front of the door, Michael announced our presence and waited for the angels inside to open the doors for us. I’ve been in the throne room a small handful of times since my first day. Today, however, the atmosphere felt a little off. Normally, one would feel a sense of dread walking into this room, as it usually meant punishment. All ceremonies took place in the garden, the throne room being deemed as an unofficial courtroom. Today the atmosphere felt almost, denser than usual. Michael and I made our way towards the throne and kneeled before Father.

“Rise”

Both of us responded with a “Thank you Father” as we stood. God turned to face me.

“I apologize for calling for you this late. I do hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Not to worry Father, I was actually up finishing this week's work when Michael came to get me. If I may ask, why did you want to see me?”

“I called you to make an offer. I have observed how you ran the council this past millennium. I’ve seen your leadership and your dedication to your job. I’d like to offer you a permanent spot on the council.”

“Father, I’m sure-”

“I’m well aware of our initial deal. Bear in mind that this will not impede on your ability to see the Sins again. As head of the council, it will be your job to oversee business in the Devildom as Michael had been while you were here. You will be able to travel between the realms for business and visit the brothers while you’re there.”

“But I’d have to return and continue serving you, won’t I?”

“That is correct. You are a unique individual Y/N. You are a human with the blood of a fallen, you accepted the demons and was still elevated to the Celestial realm. As such, you have experience from all three realms. This is a powerful tool to have.”

“For you. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I am not interested in staying, nor am I interested in allowing you access to this “tool” as you so crudely labelled my experience. I made it abundantly clear that I serve you under the condition that I return once Lord Diavolo has been crowned. As the Father of the Celestials, I expect that your promises would be kept. Unless that is your telling me I’d have more luck trusting a demon if I wanted promises kept?”

“Y/N! While you’re here, you still serve Father. You cannot speak to him like that!”

“I’m not wrong though am I? If that is all, I’d like to get some rest before reporting in. Good evening, or should I say morning?” I didn’t wait for a response as I bowed to Father and walked out of the throne room without so much of a glance back.

“I apologize Father. I will see that they don’t speak that way to you again.”

“That’s quite alright Michael.”

“Father?”

“I find it to be one of their more enduring qualities. They don’t take anything from anyone, regardless of their position. It’s a valuable trait to have, if used correctly.”

“Father, you weren’t really going to cement their position as the leader of the council, were you?”

“No, I knew they wouldn’t have agreed anyway. I wanted to test them. By offering the position permanently, they would have gained an abundance of power and authority.”

“Instead they turned it down to be with Samael and his brothers. I still don’t understand what they see in them.”

“It would be wise to re-think your opinion on Lucifer and his family. Contrary to what you think, they haven’t changed much. If you looked at it from an outsider's perspective, perhaps you’ll find that they’re still very much angelic.”

“Are you seriously telling me that with a straight face? I appreciate your suggestion Father, however, I highly doubt my opinion on them could change.”

“I am not telling you to change your thoughts about them overnight.” Standing up God stepped down and put a firm hand on Michael’s shoulder.

“I’m just reminding you that Pride is a sin.” God exited the throne room towards his personal chambers leaving a perplexed Michael standing in the throne room.

“I’m not prideful.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was wrong.

~3 Months Later~

“That is all for today. Does anyone else have anything that needs to be brought to attention before we leave?” I looked around the council table and took note of Azrael's continued absence. The angel of death was called for a quick meeting with God before the start of this meeting and had yet to return.

“Alright then. This meeting is adjourned. If anyone has anything they’d like to drop off, I’ll be working by the fountain." The council of 7 stood and started chatting amongst themselves as I packed up and left. A few weeks into leading the council, I found that much like the Devildom, I couldn’t find much peace anywhere indoors. As such, I turned to the gardens, in particular, the stone fountain. It reminded me of the one in my old village square back on earth and found a sense of peace here. I’m guessing the other angels got the hint of me needing some peace and quiet to complete my work as I’ve never been disturbed while I worked here. Anywhere else though, and it’s anyone’s game.

About halfway through my work, I decided it was a good time to take a break and get something to eat. Making my way to the makeshift kitchen area in the council building, I passed by Azrael and Michael conversing with each other. We exchanged some polite hello’s when something Azrael said caught my attention.

“I apologize for not making the meeting. There was an issue with a soul’s candle that was fluctuating that I had to deal with.”

“Fluctuating? I was under the impression that a soul’s candle can only slowly burn until the soul’s time runs out and the candle burns out or someone snuffs them out. How can a candle fluctuate?”

“It’s more like the candle was shifting, evolving. The flame itself is fine but the stick itself was changing. You see, the flame is just that, a flame that will never burn out until its designated time, or if as you put it, someone snuffs it out. It’s the stick that holds most of the magic. The type of wax used identifies the soul, its nature, and where it’s destined. Only angels of death, or reapers, can tamper with the stick and alter it, however, it seems this stick is changing itself without outside interference from myself or another reaper.”

“The stick is evolving on its own and this is a cause for concern because this type of thing shouldn’t be possible and has never happened before?”

“Essentially.”

“What did you do about it?”

“For now, nothing. We’ve tried manually altering it ourselves but it keeps rejecting the change. I have a junior reaper watching it now. He’ll update me if anything changes. That is all I can tell you for now.”

“That understandable, thank you for sharing anyway. Good luck with the candle.” At that, my stomach rumbled.

“Go enjoy your lunch” Azrael replied, walking away with Michael.

“Why did you tell them all of that?” Michael demanded of Azrael.

“They have a right to know. Besides nothing would be gained by hiding it from them. It’s best they are aware of the situation.”

“That’s not your call to make Az.” Michael responded angrily as he stopped. Azrael turned to face him, a calm mask slipped on.

“Yes, it is Michael. It’s my call as the leader of the reapers and the overseer of their candle. What isn’t right is how you keep insisting that they be left in the dark, blissfully ignorant. Despite what you may think, they are a bright soul and have brought much light with them, even to the brothers. I understand why you feel about them the way you do, but times have changed. They have changed, and so have the rest of us. Everyone but you. It’s time you change too before you do something you’ll regret.” With that, Azrael left, leaving Michael standing there thinking about what the reaper had said and thought back to what their Father had said 3 months ago. Threading his fingers in his hair, he made his way to his office, hoping to distract himself from these thoughts with some extra work.

~7 Years later~

“Y/N'' I woke up realizing that I fell asleep at my desk again. Looking up, I saw Uriel looking down at me. His hand on my right shoulder shaking me awake.

“Father would like to see you. Go get dressed please. I’ll be waiting outside.” Uriel left, closing the door behind him. I leaned back thinking about why God would want to see me, especially this early in the morning.

Not wanting to Uriel waiting for too long, I tidied up the papers at my desk, and sleepily made my way to the bathroom to take a quick shower and get ready. Once I finished, Uriel and I set out except this time, instead of heading to the palace, we headed for the gates.

When we arrived, I found that the rest of the council including Azreal and Simeon were already there and waiting for us. We landed and bowed our respects towards Father. Uriel joined the council in a semi-circle behind God.

“Y/N, as I’m sure you realized, the time has come for you to return to the Devildom. I offer you one last chance to stay here. You should know that once an angel falls, they’re not allowed back. Y/N, if you through with this, you will be cast out from the Celestial realm. Are you ready to make that sacrifice?” Looking to the council standing behind God. I recalled the past millennia I spent with them. While I tried to keep a professional relationship with them, they ended up growing on me and we became a little family of our own. I realized that I was going to end up missing them. None of that matters though, not anymore. I’m finally going home, to my real family. To the brothers. Ignoring God, I addressed the angels gathered behind him.

“Thank you, all of you. Despite our differences, you all still accepted me and let me into this little family of yours. I’ll be sure to remember all you’ve done for me and I hope we could meet again someday. Oh and Mike.” Michael looked at me, surprised that I singled him out. “You don’t belong down there. Don’t forget that.” I turned back to God giving him my answer.

“Yes, I am willing.” Giving me a nod of affirmation, God addressed me for the last time.

“Y/N, Virtue of Loyalty and former leader of the virtues.  I hereby strip you of your angelic status and cast you out into the Devildom for the sin of misplaced loyalty.” I faced the edge, ready to jump when I realized I had forgotten something. Turning around, I looked God straight in the eyes and threw the strongest right hook I had ever thrown in my life before jumping backwards, tucking in my wings and closing my eyes. A content sigh leaving my lips as I let the darkness engulf me whole.

I’m coming guys. Wait up for me

[themadlostgirl]

When It’s Cold

*Felix simps come get y’all juice!

The hyperfixation hit me hard and because I just have to add backstory and character development to every single request I get, this one shot request is another mini-fic. I do not know how long it is going to be but I am hoping to keep it under ten. I already have like 5 chapters written now. Also, Felix deserves some multi-chapter love dang it!*

Prompt: Reader and Felix are stuck in Storybrooke together. What will happen next? Spoilers: it’s feelings and fluff and a horny teenagers being stupid.

Requested by: anon

~~~

“I blame you.” Felix said.

“How is this my fault?” I retorted. Felix and I sat on the docks of Storybrooke overlooking the water.

“You’re the one that convinced me to come to Storybrooke with you. Now look what’s happened! Pan is dead and we have no way to get back to Neverland.”

“We’ll find a way back to Neverland.”

“And how do you figure that? There is no more shadow to ferry us, we have no magic bean, or any pixie dust to fly us back. We are stuck here!”

“Will you calm down?”

“You want me to be calm? How can you expect me to be calm after everything that has happened?”

“I don’t know but you panicking is not going to help us any. Storybrooke is the only town in this realm with magic. If there is a way to cross realms we will find it here so stop worrying so much and start brainstorming. Like you said, there is no more shadow so our reliable way of getting back is gone. Magic beans are scarce if any even still exist. So our only option is to find some method of transportation that can either fly us back or we become mermaids and swim through the realms. So we gotta sprout wings or gills. Ideas?”

“Well I can’t swim worth a damn so I guess we’ll need to find a way to fly.”

“No point staying here.” I got up, “We were fine camping in the woods but that’s not going to serve us well much longer. Winter is rolling in and neither of us have ever lived somewhere that wasn’t tropical and humid all the time so I don’t think we’ll survive long on our own out in the wilderness. We need to start looking into different housing options.”

“You sound like an adult.” Felix groaned.

“I hate it too but there’s not much else we can do unless we want to freeze to death. Come on,” I held a hand out to him, “The sooner we find someplace the sooner we can start dedicating our time to finding a way out of here.”

“I’m coming,” Felix stood up, ignoring my hand. We walked all around Storybrooke looking for someplace to hole up in. My main concern was having a place with heat which left a lot of the vacant houses out since their utilities were shut off. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t for the fact that there were no fireplaces so starting a fire to keep warm was also out of the question.

It was getting late and our search had yielded nothing. I had a bad feeling that if we couldn’t find somewhere suitable through our own means we would have to resort to actually paying for housing somewhere. Which meant we would need money which also meant we would need to have jobs. Paying bills, having jobs, this was a nightmare!

We shuffled back to our camp and checked the traps we had laid for any game but only caught a small rabbit. Barely big enough for one person. Better than nothing at least.

As Felix roasted the rabbit over our fire I sighed, rubbing my arms to keep off the chill of the late autumn.

“You know what I’ve noticed these past couple days?” I said.

“Hm?” Felix hummed not bothering to look up.

“This is the first time in all the years we’ve known each other that we’ve ever really hung out.”

“Guess so.” Felix shrugged.

“Is that not strange to you? We’ve known each other for decades on Neverland. We hunted together, played together, fought together with the boys but this is the first time us two have ever been alone together. How do you not find that strange?”

“It’s not like I was close to everybody on the island.” He took the rabbit off the spit and cut it in two, “Besides, you were always off galavanting with Artie and Frank. What’s it matter if we ever hung out?”

“I guess it’s just making me wonder.”

“Wonder what?”

“Why you followed me here?” I answered as he handed me my half of our dinner. “You didn’t know that Pan had switched consciousness with that Henry kid until after we left Neverland. You could have stayed on Neverland with the other boys. You didn’t need to come with me when I asked you to. So why did you?”

“Let me ask you something,” Felix dodged around the question, “Why is it that you asked me to come with you in the first place? You had your friends on that ship already. Why take me along? Why is it that you’re roughing it in the woods with me when you have friends that are snug and cozy in that fairy monastery? Answer me that.”

“I--I--” The words were caught in my throat. Why had I asked Felix to come with me? I knew the answer lay deep in my gut but I couldn’t for the life of me bear to bring it to the surface. I bit into my rabbit with a small scowl.

Felix gave a small exhale before diving into his dinner as well. The conversation thoroughly ended. I curled up to go to sleep near the fire. Our only source of heat. I really did miss Neverland. I would deal with a million humid heat waves if it meant that I could be warm again.

Sometime during the night a gust of cold wind snapped me awake. I huddled in closer to myself trying to retain some warmth when I felt something being draped over me. I peeked an eye open and saw Felix lay down again and curled more into himself. I looked to see what he had done and realized he had draped his cloak over me. His only form of heat, thin as it was. I decided at that moment as I watched him violently shivering on the cold ground that I would gladly grow up a little and get a job if it meant we  would have somewhere warm to sleep tomorrow night.

The morning came and as casually as I could gave Feilx back his cloak. I made no mention of his generosity. I knew he wouldn’t appreciate you pointing out his selflessness for whatever reason. Too proud to accept my thanks.

We went back into town and I sent Felix off to find some cheap accommodations for us while I walked along main street and hopped into every store that I could looking for work. Unfortunately it looked like no one was hiring. Dejected and pissed after the tenth shop owner denied to even let me fill out one of their ridiculous applications I stole a handful of dollars from their tip jar. At the very least I could buy us a decent meal tonight.

We met up again outside of the diner. Felix had no luck finding a place to stay either. Everyone just shrugged him off. To my delight though he had the same idea as me and produced a wallet he had pickpocketed off the landlord he had spoken to. A couple of twenties tucked safely into the worn leather. We may not have anywhere warm to sleep tonight but at least we could get a hot meal.

We entered into the diner and immediately were met with stares. It was the same stare I got from everyone I asked a job from. I tried to shrug it off and sat down with Felix at the counter. We ordered two plates of the lasagna. The waitress was kind enough but everyone else at the counter moved away from us when it was evident that we were staying.

“Felix,” I whispered, “Is it just me or is everyone--”

“They don’t want us here,” he whispered back, “They’re not saying anything but they’re making it obvious enough. The reason no one will give us a job or let us live anywhere is all for the same reason. We were here for Pan and even though he’s gone they still don’t trust us. Just eat your food and we’ll go back to camp.”

“Do you think we have enough money to maybe spend just one night at the bed and breakfast?” I asked, hopeful.

Felix shook his head. “Even if we did I think we should be saving this for food since game is proving difficult to come by.”

“You’re right,” I stabbed into my lasagna. “It just gets so cold…”

We finished our meals quickly and left just as fast. At least I was more full than yesterday. We started on our way back to camp when I noticed a trail I hadn’t seen before.

“Where are you going? Camp is that way?”

“I know but I need to see something.” I told him as I started running down the other trail.

“Wait!” Felix ran after me. I kept huffing and puffing down the trail until it opened into a large field. In the distance was a huge house. A mansion by the looks of it.

“Whoa,” Felix said as he took in the sight of the mansion. “How did we miss this?”

“I don’t know. Let’s get a closer look.” We ran across the neatly trimmed lawn and hopped over the fence onto the mansion grounds. The lights were off inside. Whoever lived here was either gone or asleep. We checked the garage and found no car. Peeking in as many windows as we could it didn’t look like anyone was home.

“Should we?” I asked Felix. The temptation was too great. “Even if someone does live here it’s so big I doubt that they would even notice us staying here as well.”

“Let’s take a look.” Felix grinned. Strangely enough the front door was left unlocked. I tried the lights and was delighted when I realized that the electricity was working, there was running water too. Even better was that there was heat! Heat and dozens of bedrooms.

The place was so clean and orderly but yet there were no signs of it being lived in. No pictures on the walls. No food in the fridge. All the doors and windows were unlocked. There was a large kitchen, dining room, multiple rooms just for sitting in, a dozen bedrooms, and even a ballroom with a beautiful crystal chandelier. All the windows had the most spectacular views of the ocean or the mansion’s garden.

“This place is amazing!” I picked up a strange cylindrical paperweight with stars painted on top of it and tossed it in the air. “Felix, I don’t want to get our hopes up but I think we found a place for us to stay.”

“And you’re sure no one lives here?” Felix gazed around the room we were standing in.

“We searched all the rooms we came across and found no one. The place has been cleaned out of food or toiletries. Either whoever lives here desperately needs to go shopping or they just don’t exist.”

“You think we’re really that lucky?”

“I think we’re owed a bit of luck. Even if someone still does live here do you really want to spend the night shivering outside or spend a night wrapped up warm in a bed and run the risk of someone chasing us out in the morning?”

“You make a compelling argument.” Felix grinned, “Race you for the master bedroom!”

“Felix!” I chased after him as he went flying up the stairs. He got to the room first and flopped down on the large king-sized bed.

“I win! Go take one of the lesser bedrooms.”

“You only won cause you have those long lanky legs.” I flopped down beside him and sighed as I sunk into the soft mattress. “I don’t think I can move from here. It’s way too comfortable.”

“Too bad. My room.” He pushed me off.

“Hey!” I laughed as I stood back up. “Fine, you can have the master bedroom but only on the condition that you find us more money to buy food and toiletries. Got it?”

“Sounds good to me,” Felix stood too, eyeing the bathroom attached to the bedroom. “Soap or not I think I am going to indulge in a hot bath.”

“That does sound heavenly.” I haven’t had a hot bath in decades. “Have a goodnight, Felix. We go grocery shopping tomorrow.”

“Night,” Felix gave a wave as he closed the bathroom door behind him.

I left the room and wandered around the hall looking for a space of my own. I found a nice bedroom that felt just as grand as the master bedroom. I went into the bathroom and drew myself a piping hot bath. I nearly moaned when I sunk down into the water. Even if this lasts for only a night I’ll be happy. One night of warmth.

After my bath I wrapped myself in a large fluffy towel and went back into the bedroom. I really didn’t want to put my old dirty clothes on my clean body. I opened the dresser drawers hoping maybe the resident left behind some old clothes but they were all empty. I crept out of my room and checked the other guest rooms surrounding me but all their drawers were empty too. There was one place I hadn’t checked. If the owner did leave something behind it would probably be in the master bedroom. I glanced down at my towel with a grimace. It covers everything at least. I tentatively knocked on the door but was met with no answer. I cracked it open and sighed with relief when I saw no Felix in sight. He must still be in the bath.

I went to the dressers and, “Nothing? Really?!” I slammed the dresser shut again. How is it that there isn’t so much as a single shirt in this house?

“Why are you making so much noise?” Felix stepped out of the bathroom in a billow of steam. My throat went dry when I caught sight of him. Completely naked except for the towel hanging from his  hips and still dripping went. His blonde hair that usually hung in his face was brushed back opening his face up more. His torso had an array of scars I never knew he had before. That wet chest that was impressively chiseled…

I shot to my feet clutching to the towel covering me. “Sorry! I was just looking for some clean clothes.”

Felix gaze swept me up and down. He took a deep breath and grabbed something from inside the bathroom and tossed it to me. It was a fluffy white robe with a monogrammed M on the breast. “There.”

“Thanks.” I slid the robe on over my towel. “Anything else in there?”

“Nope. Just that one.” Felix turned away from me. His face looked red and I could only guess he was angry at me for barging in. “Now scurry back to your own room.”

“Right. Thanks.” I rushed back to my room, my heart hammering in my chest. That was certainly new. I never thought I would see that much of Felix. I mean why would I ever want to see his wet, practically naked, and not so shockingly buff body? No! Bad! Impure thoughts I should not be having about my...my…

Huh. What was Felix to me? On Neverland we were Lost Ones but that didn’t really fit here. I don’t know if I could exactly call us friends either. Roommates? Was that what we were now? We have been living together at our crappy camp all this time and now we’re staying in this mansion together. I guess that’s what we would call one another. Roommates.

I dropped my towel and pulled the clean robe tighter around me. My thumb traced over the M stitched on the breast. This house has no food, no toiletries, no clothes, not a single photo on any wall but yet there was a single monogrammed robe. Who was M? Who had lived here?

Those were questions for the morning. I sunk into bed and this time I did moan as I cuddled under the many thick blankets. Finally warm at last.

---

(Next)

[mrs-gucci]

The Angel, Chapter One: Intel {Flip Zimmerman x biker!Reader}

Chapter One: “Intel”

series summary. The Angels are the newest biker gang in town, looking to dethrone the current high-riders, The Sharks, a notoriously violent gang. Fresh off the Klan case, Detective Flip Zimmerman and his new partner, Detective Ron Stallworth, are tasked with finding out more information about this new gang. After a passionate affair behind the bar with a mysterious woman calling herself Siren, Flip discovers that perhaps he’s a bit closer to this investigation than he originally counted on. Can he manage to use this newly-recruited ally to not only take down The Sharks before they strike again, but perhaps use it to benefit his lonesome personal life as well? Find out all this and more in “The Angel”!

chapter summary. Flip and Ron head over to Ace’s, a local bar in Colorado Springs to gather intel on The Angels, the newest biker gang in town. The young detective gets more than he bargained for when he meets and beds a mystery woman named Siren. Except ‘Siren’ ends up being the last person Flip expected to get intimate with and now, he’s entangled in this case, both professionally and personally.

table of contents. Intel (NSFW) * Saint Siren Turned  Sharks Intercepted Epilogue

(a * indicates where you are in the table of contents)

author’s notes: hello, hello! saw a few bikers as I was driving on the highway, and my mind decided that I wanted to write a multi-chap fic about flip with a biker gang reader love interest. I love exploring the whole ‘flip with an independent/dom fem reader’ trope. so, here I am, designating an entire ten chapters to it.

**this multi-chap will have 5 parts total (4 ‘story’ chapters and an epilogue). due to the shorter number of chapters/parts, expect each to be longer, usually between 4-6k words.

word count: 6.1k 

warnings: smut. heavy flirting. swearing. a generous amount of dirty talk. degradation. oral sex. reader smokes. use of the term ‘pig’ to describe the police.

(possible) tw’s: tobacco use (as is canon for flip’s character). public sex.

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268​ (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist. I’m also willing to do a series-specific taglist if enough people are interested!)

---

“Alright, everyone. Rumor has it that there’s a new biker gang in town, called ‘The Angels’.” Chief Bridges says. “We gotta be on top of this, make sure they’re not the violent type.”

Flip rubs his chin, stroking his beard as he listens to the limited intel the department has on this new group. 

“I’m putting Zimmerman and Stallworth on this one. You’re gonna hang out at some of the local watering holes, see if you can gather some more information on this new group.”

His eyebrows raise and he looks over at his partner. “C’mon Chief, don’t you think our talents could be used elsewhere? It’s just an intel mission, a beat cop could do it.”

“This is incredibly important, Zimmerman, and I only trust my top talent to do the job right.” Bridges crosses his arms, staring daggers at the dark-haired detective. “It’ll be a quick job, I’m sure. No more than a week’s time. Now, get over yourself and do the damn job.”

He huffs softly, nodding as he looks away. “Sure thing, Chief.”

“You’ll head to Ace’s tonight, since that’s where they’re said to hang the most. Meeting dismissed.”

Everyone piles out of the small conference room and back out into the bullpen. Flip lights a cigarette as he sits down at his desk and continues typing up a report from last week’s home invasion-robbery. 

Ron sets the ‘Angels’ file down on his desk a few minutes later, sighing as he sits on the edge.

“What are you thinkin’ about this case, Flip?”

“I just wanna get it over with, rookie.” He leans back in his chair, shrugging and taking a drag. “I think it’s nothing to worry about, since they haven’t done anything yet, but the Chief wants us to check it out so I guess we have to.”

Ron nods.

“Well, we’ll head over to Ace’s after work. Hopefully we’ll find something and then we can get back to finding the Sharks.”

The Sharks were the biggest gang in Colorado Springs, spreading violence and dominating the northern part of town. But, all of them wore masks or helmets with masks, so no one’s been able to identify any of them. 

“Mmhmm.”

Flip hums, stubbing the cigarette butt out in the mug on his desktop.

Before he knows it, the clock hand lands on 6, and everyone starts packing up. Flip gets up and puts his freshly-typed reports on the Chief’s desk before heading over to Ron’s desk. 

“You ready to go, rookie?” He asks, hopping up on his partner’s desk.  “I need a fuckin’ beer.”

Ron laughs, shaking his head as he stands up and both men walk back to get the mics and listening equipment together. Flip clips the lauve to his white undershirt, then re-buttons his signature buffalo plaid flannel. 

They head out and hop into Flip’s pickup truck. He pulls away from the station and heads down the freeway towards Ace’s while Ron sets up all the audio equipment in the front seat. 

The parking lot of Ace’s is almost full when the two detective’s pull in, and when Flip puts the truck in park, he immediately catches sight of a series of bikes parked at the front. 

“They’re here.” He says in a low voice, nodding over to the bikes.  “I’m gonna go check the jackets to make sure.”

Flip casually gets out from the cab and walks over. He sees one of the jackets draped over the seats with the words ‘The Angels’ and a logo on the back. 

“Yup,” He says to Ron through the window of his truck. “It’s them.”

Ron’s eyes widen slightly. “Well then, get in there, partner. See what you can find.”

He chuckles, sticking a cigarette between his teeth and flicking his lighter on as he walks into the bar. His eyes scan the room, looking for biker-like characters, but his attention is quickly drawn to a certain young woman sitting at the bar. 

She’s not much younger than himself, if Flip had to guess, and her subtle smile was infectious. Flip was absolutely taken with her, but he maintained his cool, approaching the bar. 

“Hey, Earl.” He says, leaning against the bar.  “Get me a Miller, would you?”

“Sure thing.” The bartender nods, giving Flip a handshake before heading over to the beer fridge. 

You can’t help but look over at the handsome man that’s leaning against the bar. His eyes move over to you, and yours dart away quickly. He smirks, and when you look back over, he gives you a quick wink.

Your cheeks warm as you and the handsome stranger make eyes at each other. You’ve only been in town for a little while, and you’ve certainly never seen someone like him around before. 

Once the bartender hands him the dark brown bottle, mister tall, dark and handsome casually makes his way over to where you’re seated. His presence is intimidating in itself, patrons suddenly hushing their voices as he stands behind you.

“Like what you see?” He asks in a low voice, smirking. You chuckle.

“Perhaps, although you don’t have much competition. The human eye is naturally drawn to the most appealing sight in the room and quite frankly, I’m so damn tired of looking at old white men. You were the reprieve.”

“Mmhmm.” Flip laughs, sitting down next to you at the bar, pulling out a cigarette and holding it between his teeth as he flicks his lighter on. “I’m impressed at your ability to spin such a convenient story for your obvious ogling.”

“Don’t act so innocent, prettyboy. Your eyes were not keeping to themselves either.”

You huff softly, taking a drink, the smoke from his latest drag clouding the space between you.

 “Perhaps.” He retorts, taking a sip of his beer before looking over at you. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, I bet you’d like to know.” You hum softly. “You can call me Siren.”

His eyebrows furrow.  “Siren, really? What, is that a nickname or something?”

“Something, yes.”

He’s intrigued by your mysterious and closed-off presence, your casual yet extremely confident demeanor. God, how he’d love to make you crumble on his cock, scream his name and beg him for release.

The thought has him stirring in his Levi’s.

“Phillip.” He says after a beat of silence, taking a drag off his cigarette. “In case you were wondering.”

Back in the truck, Ron shakes his head. “Did you really just use your own name, Zimmerman?”

Flip realizes his slight mistake, mentally kicking himself for not having an alias name already prepared.

Your finger swirls around the rim of the whisky glass. “I wasn’t.”

His eyebrows raise for a moment. He liked this game you’re playing with him, in fact, he loves it. 

Finally, a woman giving him the thrill of the chase, making him work for it.

“Are you new in town, Miss Siren? I think I would remember seeing someone like you around here before.”

You nod silently. “Got here a few weeks ago. I’ve got some business to take care of, y’know, tie up some loose ends and such. Then I’ll be out of here.”

“What’s the rush in getting out of here? You don’t like it?”

Your lips curl up into a small smirk. “If I didn’t know any better, it almost sounds like you’re sad to hear that I’ll be leavin’ soon, prettyboy.”

He huffs softly in amusement, although his liking of your nickname for him is much greater than he anticipated or would ever admit aloud.  “No, nothing like that. Just curious, is all.”

“I’m more of a city girl. All this fresh mountain air makes me sick.” You quip, smiling softly. “I like the polluted smell of New York much better.”

Flip laughs. “Oh, a city slicker. Yuck.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh. He’s kinda cool.

“What, Colorado Springs isn’t enough to convert you, or at least open your mind to the idea?”

He takes one final long drag before crushing the butt out in the ashtray on the bar.

Your eyes linger on his seated figure for a moment before turning your attention back directly in front of you.

“Well, now that I’ve met some more of the locals, I’m thinkin’ about it a little more.”

“Yeah?”

His voice lowers an octave as he leans in a bit closer, one of his large calloused hands now resting on your denim-covered thigh. You shiver slightly beneath his touch, the smell of cigarette smoke and freshly-chopped lumber intoxicating as it ensnares your senses.

“I think you’d like it out here, if you gave it a shot. We’ve got a few things New York can’t offer.”

You’re biting your lip as his husky voice rasps in your ear, his close proximity thickening the tension between you. You haven’t been this rattled by a man in a long time, and damn, it feels good.

“Oh really? And what is that, besides trees and grass, hm?”

His chuckle makes you squirm in your seat.

“Men. Real men. Not the city pussies that gel their hair up all fancy and can’t get a speck of dirt on themselves without throwin’ a damn fit. I mean...”

“Big,” He leans a bit closer.  “Strong,” Closer. “Men.”

His lips are practically on top of your ear now, hot breath tickling your eardrum. He smirks. “And that’s all you’ve ever really wanted, isn’t it, slick? A big strong man to take care of you, protect you...satisfy your every whim and desire.”

You can barely see straight, vision blinded by the sheer lust rolling off his tongue. He’s so damn cocky, a real alpha male type, and you were eating it up. You couldn’t wait to break him.

“I’ll have to see it to believe it, prettyboy.” You say, voice unwavering as you turn to look him directly in the eyes with a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lip.  “So why don’t you go ahead and prove it, hm? I’d like to see you try.”

His jaw clenches along with his fists, body turning lurching forward slightly to the edge of the chair, now fully facing your side. 

“You’re walking an awfully thin line with that trap of yours, slick. I’d watch yourself, ‘cause the folks out here won’t hesitate, like city folk do, to make an example outta brats like you.”

Your eyes don’t leave his as you lean forward a bit, challenging him right back. “Lotta big talk from you this evening, prettyboy, but no action has come to match these claims. All bark, no bite, just like everyone else in this town.”

Flip is hard as a fucking rock, erection urgently pressing against the seam of his Levi’s, but he can’t even focus on that right now. You work him up like no one else ever has before, and he’s not about to let you just leave with the last word. No, he’ll have the last word tonight if it fucking kills him.

“You wanna see some fuckin’ bite, slick?” He growls, standing up and grabbing hold of your jaw, keeping a firm grip on it. “Talk to me like that again and see what happens.”

You grin deviously, wrapping your hand around his wrist, holding it as you remove your jaw from his grip.

“Heard it all before and nobody’s gotten me just yet. You’re no different, prettyboy.”

A twenty is thrown on the tabletop and then you’re leaving.

His blood is boiling, cock twitching with excitement as he lets you walk out of the bar, letting you think you can get away with this. Then, as soon as you’re outside, he strides across the room, flings the door open, and grabs your arm.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

He walks you to the side alley and pins you to the bricks, body caging yours in. You’re breathless and defenseless against him as his wiry whiskers tickle the side of your neck. His legs spread out and his large hands grip your hips as he scoops down, grinding his arousal against your ass with one long, rough stroke.

The denim-trapped bulge presses incessantly against your backside when he stills and lights up a smoke behind you, taking a brief drag, exhaling through his nose.

“Y’know, I work hard all damn day, seven days a week, bust my fuckin’ ass to get shit done.” He stands up again, kicking your ankle so your legs spread open. You gasp softly at his brazen moves, which only fuels his arousal. “I come here to kick back a few beers and have a few cigarettes, relax, unwind…”

 His hands yank your jeans down your hips suddenly, then one curls around to cup your clothed mound, lifting up against you.

“But instead of that, now, I have to bring you out here and fuck some goddamn manners into your bratty cunt before I can go back in to finish my beer.”

You can barely formulate words at the moment, his every move dripping with pure power and unwavering dominance. You’re absolutely taken by him, but that doesn’t mean you won’t fulfill your own agenda. 

Let him think he’s the boss, that he’s got you wrapped around his finger. It’ll only wreck him harder in the end.

The small jingle of his belt buckle being undone brings you back to reality, as well as his fingers swiping over your clit through the material of your panties. He pulls away for a moment, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, yanking them down far enough so that he can pull his length out. 

Luckily, due to his massive body size and the fact that you’re in a dark alleyway behind a dumpster, nothing is too exposed in case someone happens to come by and see the little show about to unfold.

Your panties are torn down your legs quickly and his digits swipe through your warmth. He smirks when he feels how wet you are.

“Now I can call you slick for two reasons.” He chuckles darkly into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I knew you liked this, dirty girl. Bet you’ve been wet all night since I came into the bar.”

His fingers trace over your clit, pressure on and off with his lazy circles, and within seconds he’s got you gyrating against him. Then, suddenly, he pulls away and steps back, hand on your shoulder. He flips you around quickly so that you’re facing him, then forces you back against the wall, flicking his abandoned cigarette away onto the black pavement.

“Why’d you turn me around?” You ask nonchalantly.

He smears some of your fresh arousal onto the tip of his cock, moving it around over his girthy length while his fingers force themselves into your mouth, grabbing and pressing on your tongue.

“I decided that I wanna ruin your disobedient little mouth first. On your knees, use my boots as padding if you need.”

Your legs close and you cross them at the ankle, leaning back against the brick wall freely, arms crossed over your chest. His eyebrows raise and he pulls his fingers out of your mouth.

“Did you not hear me or something?” Flip asks, voice low. “On your damn knees, slick, or I’ll put you there myself.”

Silence. You don’t move a muscle, watching the frustration fester. He leans in suddenly, face real close.

“I’m gonna give you one last chance to do as I say before I force you down.”

Nothing.

His hand wraps in your prettily-done hair, holding the roots just above scalp-level, yanking harshly. He steps back a bit quickly as you cry out, hand on your shoulder, pushing you down as the shock and pain weakens your knees. 

Your knees rest on his work boots and his impressive arousal is lip-level, now. He loosens his grip on your hair ever so slightly, still holding you firmly as he rubs his head over your cherry red lips.

“Don’t make me take this from you too, slick.” He warns.

You offer him a cheeky, close-mouthed smile, batting your eyelashes teasingly. He snarls, pulling your hair again, and when you yelp in pain, he pushes his hips forward. His cock forces itself into your mouth and your eyes widen, choking immediately at the sudden intrusion. 

Flip’s head falls back and his eyes squeeze shut as your throat contracts around his length. He holds your head, keeping your mouth wrapped around him, and he gives you a quick look of concern, breaking character for a moment. 

Once you give him a quick wink and small smile, indicating that everything’s okay, he draws back before pushing forward again. He establishes a consistent back-and-forth rhythm, grunting softly with each thrust of his hips. You’re taking him so well, better than anyone before. Your choking and gagging has essentially ceased within the first minute or so, the quickest recovery Flip has ever experienced.

Look, he knows he’s got a nice cock, there’s no denying it, especially when he’s got women chanting it in his ear on a weekly basis. It’s long and girthy with a slight upward curve that gives him the ability to hit the g-spot almost every time. Plus, he knows how to use it properly.

But, women often have trouble taking him or making him feel good with oral sex because he’s always concerned that he’s genuinely hurting them. A lot of women are also very intimidated by his size, which doesn’t help him in feeling okay about it. 

You, however, didn’t say a word, give it a concerned look, or hesitate even a bit when he put you on your knees. You’re something else.

He groans, fucking your mouth even harder, hands on the sides of your head. Your eyes are watering and tears have already begun spilling down your cheeks, but you’re not complaining in the slightest. He looks so incredible like this, restrain and composure slipping as the pleasure begins to consume him.

You do your best to establish a bit of suction on his length, and when a guttural growl emerges from above you, you know you’ve done it. His hips lose their rhythm soon after, cock throbbing in your mouth, meaning he’s close. 

He’s panting heavily, spine curling as he fucks your mouth harder, shuddering every once and a while from the sheer amounts of lust coursing through his veins. 

Just before his release, he forces himself to pull away, a strangled groan of agony rumbling through his chest as his shaft bobs angrily at the lost orgasm. 

“Christ!”

You catch your breath for a moment, but that moment is brief because within thirty seconds, he’s got his hand wrapped around your jaw.

“S-S…” He takes a second to compose himself. “Stand up, turn around, take your panties off and spread your fucking legs.”

This time, much to his surprise, you obey, getting into position with little resistance. He smirks, giving your ass a quick swat before rubbing his head through your folds.

“Mmm, shit, you got wetter just from having your face fucked?”

His chin digs into your shoulder as he lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes in quickly with a long, low groan, then settles inside of you to allow for an adjustment period. 

Your eyes go wide and you whimper, walls stretching out to accommodate the large intrusion. Soon, you move your hips a bit, looking over your shoulder.

“You can m-move.”

Flip nods, drawing back before pressing his hips forward again, sighing through his nose as he picks up a steady thrusting rhythm.

“Fuck you’ve got a good little cunt, wrapped around me so goddamn tight.” He growls in your ear, mouth lazily kissing and nipping at your neck.

The burn of being stretched out subsides soon after he begins, replaced with copious amounts of pleasure, jaw slacked as your body jolts back and forth with each powerful movement.

“I can feel you clenching around me, slut...I know you like this. I wanna hear you fucking admit it.” He breathes. “Tell me how good I’m making you--fuck--feel. Tell me how much better my cock feels fucking you than any--goddamnit--other f-fuckin’ city slicker’s cock.”

When he doesn’t get a response, his pace suddenly quickens a bit and one of his hands comes up to wrap around your throat, squeezing experimentally.  “Say it, slick, admit it!”

“Y-You, you feel...okay.”

You smirk, eyes squeezing shut when he brushes against a particularly sensitive spot inside you.

Flip huffs. “You’re a fucking brat--god fucking damnit.”

He snarls, hand closing tighter around your neck, lips right up against your ear.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ destroy you, slick. I’m gonna fuck your tight cunt so hard and stuff you so fucking full of my cum, make it run down your fucking thighs when you go home. You’re gonna have to walk into your fuckin’ house with my cum leaking out of you like the dirty slut you are.”

A loud whine comes from your lips, goosebumps spreading like wildfire over your skin at his words. You’re close already, the anticipation and sensations too much to hold off much longer.

“I know you’re lying, slick, I know you love this fucking cock, and I know you’re close. Say it, say it and I’ll make you cum so fucking hard you can’t see straight for the rest of the night.”

He growls into your ear, panting heavily.

“All you gotta do is--shit--say it and I’ll give you what you want, what we both know you want.”

Your walls clench and pulse around his shaft, preparing for your approaching orgasm. But, even though the temptation is sweet, you hold out.

“Eh, I’ve h-had better. You’re really--oh--not t-that big, prettyboy.”

“Fuck!”

His reaction is exactly what you were looking for, hips thrusting impossibly quick as his hands grab your wrists and pin your hands behind your back. Part of him liked this, being called ‘small’ and being taunted, although he’d never admit it to anyone.

“It’s your fucking loss, slick.”

“Oh, is it?” You smirk, adjusting your hips subtly until you find the right spot, crying out softly as you teeter on the edge of orgasm. “I don’t t-think so--fuck!”

“NO! Goddamnit, f-fuck...NO!” He tries to stop your climax, but it’s too late, you’re already there.

“Y-Yes, fuck...yes!”

You’re trembling as you ride out your intense high, his hips pumping you into a delicious overstimulation.

Your release gushes out around him and Flip feels his own climax rapidly approaching, hips starting to lose their rhythm.

Flip’s absolutely pissed that you made yourself cum, allowing his frustration to fuel his thrusts. His teeth sink into the muscle on the curve of your neck, drilling into you as hard as he can manage.

“Brat!”

He snarls against your skin.

“You’re a fucking d-dirty, filthy--yeah, so fuckin’ tight--naughty brat! O-Oh fuck, shit, gonna--fuck goddamnit--cum…”

“Are you gonna cum? Fill me up, prettyboy?”

You clench around him one more time, bringing him over the edge. 

“Oh f-fuck, yes, gonna--unnhh!”

Being fully prepared to bury his load deep inside you, fill you up, it took him by great surprise when you suddenly pulled him out of you. His eyes fly open and a choked cry leaves his lips.

“FUCK, N-NO!”

He roars, load erupting out onto the bricks and alleyway pavement instead of inside you. His hips rut forward instinctively as he rides out his high, groaning against your skin.

You smirk, slipping out from beneath his grip, pulling your panties back up over your hips. He’s still panting and recovering from his climax, hands spread on the cool brick of the building, eyes catching sight of his seed dripping down the wall as he redresses.

Before you walk away, you run a hand through his silky black mane. You give it a gentle tug, earning a low growl from the handsome man.

“Told ya, no one’s gotten me yet and no one ever will.” You pat his cheek, giving him a soft smile. “Have a good rest of your night, prettyboy.”

You’re quickly overtaken, within the first few steps of walking back towards the front entrance, by a large set of hands. Flip turns you around in his arms and crashes his lips on yours, pulling you close to him.

At first, you’re taken by surprise, but that lasts for only a few seconds before you melt into his touch, melding your lips with his. He pulls away a minute later, a big smug smirk stretched across his face.

“Good night, slick.”

He walks back towards the side door, lighting a cigarette on his way, leaving you frozen in suspension for a moment. Every inch of your skin, every fiber of your being, is buzzing. You find yourself unable to wipe the small smile off your face as you walk back towards the front of the bar.

You look through the window of the bar as you slip your leather jacket on, then your helmet before swinging your leg over your bike. The engine rumbles, ground quaking beneath it as you pull out of the parking lot and onto the freeway, wind whipping around your body as you disappear into the cool Colorado night.

-

Flip is drunk on you as he pays for his drinks and stubs his cigarette out in the plastic ashtray on the bar. The damn bastard’s essentially grinning and giggling with joy as he walks back out to his truck, or at least ‘grinning and giggling’ by Flip’s standards, which pretty much just means a small smile.

It’s quickly wiped from his face when he sees Ron in the passenger seat. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that Ron was listening the whole time, and he can only hope that his partner took the headphones off before anything too explicit happened.

He hops up into the cab and immediately, Ron begins chuckling to himself. 

“Oh, shut up.”

He says, frowning as he backs out of the parking lot.

“I hope you took the headphones off.”

“So, did you find out anything about The Angels?”

Ron asks, snickering.

“Or did you focus on learning more about the inside of her mouth?”

Flip growls under his breath, rolling his eyes.

“Can it, rookie. We’ll go back tomorrow. And, for the record, I cased the joint when I walked in, and there were no bikers in sight. No one that seemed the type, y’know?”

“Well, the bikes were there. They had to be there, right?”

His jaw clenches, kicking himself for losing focus. Although, he doesn’t exactly regret anything he did with you, he just wishes he had worked the case a bit beforehand. 

“They should’ve been there, but I’m telling you, there was no one.”

Ron gives him a look and Flip shakes his head.

“Look, I know what it looks like, but I’m serious. I cased the joint when I went in, and there was no one even close to the basic look of a biker gang.”

His partner sighs.

“I know, and I trust you, Zimmerman. We’ll go back tomorrow, like you said. We should go a bit earlier, maybe try and catch these bikers coming to the bar.”

“Agreed.”

Flip nods as he pulls back into the station, sighing when he puts the truck in park.

“Alright, let’s go report to the Chief.”

The Next Day

It’s another long ass day at the station, although there was a bit of excitement when the Chief went out to his squad car and found the window busted out.

Everyone chuckled to themselves as he flipped his shit, almost as if he’d temporarily forgotten that he was a police chief. 

Flip and Ron went out to lunch at the local diner, discussing the ‘Angels’ case, and of course Flip’s back-alley hookup last night, much to the detective’s dismay. 

He just resorted to sucking down as many cigarettes as he could while Ron fired off questions, hoping the nicotine buzz would get him through this all quicker. It didn’t.

Finally, with the Chief’s approval, Ron and Flip head out at five to Ace’s in hopes of spotting The Angels as they come to the bar.

Luckily, when they reach the bar, there are no motorcycles in sight. Flip backs the truck into a spot facing where the motorcycles were last night, putting it in park before lighting up a smoke. He and Ron pass the time with some casual chit-chat before the telltale rumble of motorcycle engines.

The first bike comes into view, the leader no doubt, and slowly rolls up to the front of the bar, foot planting on the pavement. There’s something so oddly familiar about this leader to Flip, the way they move, their demeanor in general, but he thinks little of it, determined to actually focus on the case this time. 

Once the whole gang has pulled up, Flip grabs his notepad and a pencil, ready to write down the names on their jackets while Ron pulls out his camera. The bikers' engines all shut off almost simultaneously, pavement settling back into the dirt as they all dismount their bikes. 

Flip looks at all the names on their jackets, each beginning with ‘Saint’, writing all five of them down before pausing when he reaches the leader’s jacket. It read ‘Saint Siren’, glitter-infused stitching catching in the evening sunset. 

No, it can’t be.

Saint Siren reaches up to pull their helmet off, and when they do, Flip is stunned into utter and total silence. It’s you...you’re Saint Siren. 

You're the leader of ‘The Angels’.

Ron’s snapping a bunch of pictures as the rest of the gang takes their helmets off, revealing the women beneath each. Both detectives were surprised to see that ‘The Angels’ were all women, considering the general ‘man-ness’ of biker gangs.

Your hair flutters in the gentle breeze as you hang your helmet on the handlebar of your bike, reaching into your jacket pocket for a cigarette and lighter, hand shielding the flame from the gentle breeze. 

“Zimmerman?”

Flip faintly hears his partner say, but he doesn’t process it, too focused on the reality hitting.

“Zimmerman!” Ron says, shaking his partner’s arm.

“What’s the matter with you?”

His eyes dart over to Ron, a serious expression etched on his face.

“That’s her. That’s the girl from last night.”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m fuckin’ sure!” He snarls. “I only spent all night with her. I’m not that shallow, rookie.”

Ron stifles a laugh. “Uh huh. Well, now we understand why no one could ever figure out who this gang was. No one would ever suspect women to be bikers, much less in a biker gang.”

Your jacket is taken off and draped neatly over the seat of your bike, and Flip quickly tosses his notebook on the dash, clipping the lauve to his undershirt with a sense of urgency. His face is steadily turning redder the more he thinks about it, and Ron can almost see the smoke coming from his ears. He’d be whistling like a damn tea kettle if that were true. 

“What are you gonna do when you get in there? Remember what the Chief wants, intel only.”

Flip huffs, buttoning his flannel back up before flicking on the microphone set on the front seat, tapping the top of the machine. “I know how to do my damn job, I know what Chief said. Just be sure to listen and write the important stuff down.”

He hops down, the heels of his work boots reverberating off the pavement as he walks, more like storms, into the bar.

Earl, the bartender, greets him, but he’s already closing in on you. He doesn’t even hesitate, just walking right up to the table you’re sitting at and putting his hand on the top.

“Can I speak with you a minute?” He says in the calmest voice he can muster at this point, staring daggers at you, teeth gritted. “Please?”

All the girls look up at him, then back over at you, awaiting your answer. You stub out the cigarette between your lips before gesturing for Gladys to scoot out of the booth. She does, and you slide out, standing in front of the familiar man.

“Lead the way, Flip.”

He spins around on his heel, then stops, stomach dropping. How do you know that name?

You giggle to yourself as you walk by and out to the alley. He’s hot on your tail, slamming the door shut behind him, bounding down the stairs.

“I figured it out pretty quickly.” You say, twirling your hair as you lean back against the wall, arms crossed in front of you. “After I saw the mic clipped to your undershirt last night. Looked through the yellow pages this morning and found the contact information for one Detective Phillip Zimmerman of the Colorado Springs Police Department. There’s only one other man by the name of Phillip living in this town, and he’s the guy down at the gas station.”

“Could’ve been a fake name.”

Your lips curl up into a smirk. “Yeah, coulda been a fake name, I guess. But I saw the way you reacted when you said it, looked like you wanted to kick yourself in the nutsack. The mic on your shirt tied it all together, and then when I did some surveillance on the station, I saw you.”

Flip isn’t sure if he’s more nervous or impressed by your ability to observe and fact-find. 

“I’m not the only one that hid my true identity last night, Saint Siren. Nor are you the only one that did surveillance today.” He growls, standing in front of you. “You’re one of the ‘Angels’, the leader, in fact.”

Your face is unchanging, still wearing a neutral expression, before a small smirk tugs at your lips.

“Congratulations, Detective. I’m a little surprised you didn’t put two-and-two together last night when you read the name on my jacket.”

His eyes widen, which makes you laugh. Had your name really been on the jacket that he’d seen, and he just missed it?

“Saw you not so discreetly snooping around the bikes before you came in last night. You ought to check your surroundings a little more thoroughly before ‘casually’ sauntering by the bikes and leaning over to read the jackets...someone might see you.”

You laugh quietly, shoving your hands into your jean pockets.

He’s pissed, you can tell, but there’s also a sense of respect buried deep within his gaze, and perhaps there’s even a bit of desire mixed in, too.

“I...you’re…”

Suddenly, an idea pops into his head, and the rage suddenly melts away. He could use this to his advantage.

“Join me.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you look up at him. “You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not. Think about it, it’s beneficial for both of us. You want to knock the Sharks on their asses and kick ‘em outta town, and I want to stop them from taking over the whole town. We both get what we want.”

You just burst out into laughter.  “You’re a funny guy, Detective, thinking I’d ever even consider becoming an informant. Ha! Sure, I hate the Sharks and I wanna kick ‘em out, but I don’t need the pig’s help for that.”

His jaw clenches. 

“You’re trying to turn her now, Zimmerman? What the hell are you thinking? INTEL, Zimmerman, we’re here for ANGELS INTEL, not the Sharks.”

He shakes off his partner’s words, staring deep into your eyes.

“You know this is a good idea, I know you do, slick. All we need are some names. It’ll be quick work, and in return, we’ll help you get rid of them and stay off your ass after they’re gone, as long as you don’t start or engage in any violent altercations.” 

“Man, you gotta stop. You can’t make promises like that without the Chief’s approval. C’mon, Zimmerman, get outta there!”

“I’m not falling for that bullshit, and I’m not becoming a pig, even if it’s only for a few weeks.” You say, pushing off the wall and standing up straight. “G’night, Detective.”

Flip quickly grabs you before you can even take a step back towards the door, holding your arms as he steps up behind you.

“I never say things I don’t mean, and I never make promises I can’t keep, slick.”

He grabs one of his business cards out from his wallet, teasingly sliding it in your back pocket, giving your ass a quick squeeze.  “In case you change your mind.”

Your skin has erupted in goosebumps as you walk back into the bar, overly conscious of the business card tucked into your back pocket, gently poking your bottom with each stride.

As you sit with your crew, drinking and chatting the night away, you can’t stop thinking about this proposal. 

The thought of being an informant scares you.  The thought of turning on the Sharks scares you.

What scares you the most, though?

You’re ready to get to work.

[katnissmellarkkk]

Summary: At the Seventy-Fourth Reaping for The Hunger Games, volunteering is outlawed, thanks to a tribute four years prior. Because of this, when Katniss’ sister Prim’s name is chosen from the bowl, there’s nothing she can do but hope that Peeta Mellark, past victor and now Prim’s mentor, can somehow bring her sister home alive. (Obviously heavy on Everlark.) 

AN: Hi! I don’t really have a big author’s note or anything--at least, I don’t think I do? We’ll see how long this trails on--but this is one of the fics I’ve been working on for a while. It’s multi-chaptered so there’s gonna be a lot more coming in the future, but this first chapter is honestly a little similar to the original book, with some (significant) deviations here and there, but after this first chapter, this story becomes extremely different from canon. I gotta thank, obviously, @rosegardeninwinter​ for a). making me my pretty lil banner and for b). reading the million, unpolished, unedited screenshots of my drafts that I’m sure ya’ll got tired of really quick. And also for encouraging me to write this in the first place. And also, I gotta thank everyone who liked and reblogged the lil story edit I posted months ago for this concept. It really encouraged me to write this concept out. (I’m talking about this edit right here if you forgot or never saw x). Okay, anyways, I’m talking too much but thank you! Also link to this story on AO3 [x].

Chapter One :

I stare out into the sky, introspective, as I wait for familiar footsteps to approach. The footfalls of my hunting partner, my friend even, Gale, still remain absent, despite our longstanding agreement to hunt on Reaping Day, no matter how hot it is, or how scarce the game, or how worried we may be deep inside.

Of course, how could a couple kids from the Seam not worry about Reaping Day? At least a slight bit, deep down?

Reaping Day. The day that decides the almost absolute fate of a lucky—as our assigned escort, straight from the Capitol itself, so proudly proclaims—boy and girl.

We're District Twelve. The smallest and one of the poorest districts in the country of Panem. There's an almost guarantee that whoever gets their name picked from the reaping bowl, even the strongest eighteen-year-old boy in the district, will have an almost sure fate of death. Likely before the number of tributes drops below twenty.

Tributes from our district almost never fare well inside the arena.

Almost never.

We have had a few winners in history, two of which are still around, but a few out of seventy-three games isn't inspiring much hope in anyone today.

The wind breezes against my arms, prickling the hair at the back of my neck, and I'm struck by the memory of being out here, in the forbidden territory of the woods, outside our district limits, when I was just a kid. When my dad was the one hunting and I was just along for the ride. Just along because I wanted to be with him. When I used to blindly trust him and my mother, when I thought he'd live forever, when I was too young to truly grasp the concept of the Hunger Games. When I was too young to truly grasp the concept of the world in which we live.

When I was eleven my every illusion was shattered violently. Almost as violently as the death in which my father must have endured, underground in those mines, as they exploded.

I remember hearing the alarm at school, blaring so cacophonously over the speakers that it shook the schoolrooms themselves. I remember blindly grappling through the scurrying bodies of my classmates, until I found my way to my little sister, Primrose. Her room was completely empty, but she still remained, sitting behind her desk with small folded hands, waiting for my arrival with excessive patience.

I'd always coached her on what we'd do, if there ever should be a mine accident. I made sure she knew the drill, just as I knew it. Like the back of my hand. Like a prayer or a lullaby. I could recite it in my sleep. Because my father had just as sternly instilled it into me.

I wove my way through the chaos of bodies and white-hot panic, towing Prim only inches behind me by the hand, as the kids from town lingered in the hallways, their classic, bright blue eyes large and their voices all quivering, and as the kids from the Seam dutifully made their way to the nearest exits, hoping and praying and begging silently that it wasn't their parent who had been hurt. Hoping the accident hadn't taken what was typically the sole provider in most households, here in the poorest section, in the most impoverished district.

Prim and I must have not hoped hard enough, because we learned almost immediately upon finding our mother, who was now immobilized with grief, her characteristic gentle smile eviscerated and in it's place, a blank stare, void of any life at all, that our every fear from hearing that alarm were coming true.

My mom was supposed to get a job. She was supposed to find a way to provide for us, to take care of her two daughters, who were grieving her husband just as much as she was.

But instead she lay in bed day after day. On the good mornings, maybe if Prim begged and pleaded, she'd move to a chair, in front of the fireplace and stare at the flames with the same vacant expression that had replaced the loving, kind woman who'd raised us.

The money from the government, the minuscule amount of money given to keep us afloat until our mother found work, ran out. The meat our father had hunted, the plants he'd saved, ran out. The food we had the small luxury of sometimes buying—or more times than not, trading for—quickly ran out.

And our mother still did absolutely nothing.

I take a deep breath now and try to force myself to forgive her. Forgive her for not being strong enough to keep going, forgive her for not caring enough about her own children to keep them alive in the face of her grief, forgive her for being so in love that losing my father had almost killed her too.

I know it's what my father would want. And I know it's something I can't let myself do. Because if I let her off the hook, it's like saying it's okay that she almost let Prim wither away to nothing. Forget me. I will never forgive her for almost taking my little sister away from me.

Our mother did absolutely nothing until Prim's ribs were prominent, until my stomach was nearly hallow, until our cheekbones were so blatantly obvious you could count them from down the road.

And all my fears, all my resolve, to keep the three of us together as a family, went out the window. There was nothing left to do, but wait for me and Prim to be taken to the Community Home, with the other orphans or kids from unsafe families. Kids who still remained too thin, who's eyes told stories no ear wanted to hear, who still wore bruises upon their skin like freckles from the sun, who looked nearly worse than the corpses I encountered every winter, while walking from the Seam to town. Those corpses were the unlucky ones who'd actually starved to death, who had sat down to merely rest, because they had no substance to carry them any further, and somehow never got back up.

On that day, at eleven years old, living in the Community Home sounded no worse than living with the immobilized shell that had once been my mother. My resolve to hold out until my birthday, until I could get the tesserae that would feed my family for an entire year, was shattered by the harsh raindrops pelting me from the grey, unforgiving sky.

I vaguely heard the baker's wife, the mean-spirited woman, with her deeply embittered, hostile blue eyes that somehow seemed black, scream at me, calling me names, shooing me from her property.

I'd simply wanted to rummage her trashcan, so desperate for any small morsel to take back to Prim, any motivation to take even another step forward, when I felt her rough and calloused hands shove me away.

I toppled over, my legs already weak and shaky from lack of nutrition and substance. My depleted form laid on the ground, my eyes bleary from exhaustion and the shivering wind and rain.

The witch went back inside the bakery as I scarcely conjured up the will to sit upright. I was beyond done. The fighting to even gain a fraction of my mother's awareness, to get something, anything, to feed myself and my starving sister, to even stand up, became overwhelming and I felt the last bit of my resolve crumble from deep inside.

Let them come and take me and Prim to the Community Home. I don't care any longer. Let them come.

Out of the corner of my eye, a boy exited out the same backdoor the witch had gone through. He was carrying a bag of trash in his hands and my famished mind focused on that first, focused on what could be inside the contents of that bag, on what a baker could potentially be throwing away, before I realized the boy was in my year at school. I knew him, or at least, I knew his face. But he stuck with the other blonde-haired, fair-skinned town kids and I didn't even remember his name in that moment.

In hindsight, that's absolutely hysterical now.

But he evaporated as soon as he'd appeared and I closed my eyes and let the rain drown me, hoping perhaps I could be swallowed up within the downpour itself. Hoping that perhaps I'd never have to face the reality that I was out of options and I had nothing of subsidence to take home.

But then I heard a clatter and a clang and the sound of a scream. It was her, the witch. She was screaming and calling someone names my own mother had never even uttered in my lifetime.

I mentally prepared myself for her to come back outside, to drive me away with a stick or a knife. Or possibly even a hot, scorching prong.

But it wasn't the witch. It was the boy, the one from my year. The one I thought went back inside after taking out the trash, that I believed didn't even notice me before.

He was carrying bread. Two loaves, in fact. The crusts were black and burned and the welt across his face told me, without a doubt, that he was the target of the witch's insults. That he was the victim of whatever clanging noise I heard.

And though I was the one starving to death, I didn't envy him having her for a mother.

I remember vividly, the most crystal clear image I have of this day, the boy checking and making sure the witch's attention had been claimed elsewhere. And then, without even glancing in my direction, he tossed one loaf of bread to my feet. Seconds later, the other followed.

He didn't hesitate to head back inside after that, and I've spent more time in these last four years than I'd more than likely care to admit, wondering what possessed him to commit such an act of kindness. No one was kind for free, I'd learned by that point.

And yet, as I shook myself forcefully out of my stupor, and carried the loaves back to my house at the edge of the Seam, I had no explanation for his simple act. I had no basis to explain why he would help me, when no one else ever had.

The next day, I saw him at school. I passed by him in the hallway, and saw his eye had now blackened, his cheek welted, but somehow he still managed a joyous smile. He didn't notice me then. He was surrounded by his friends. Like always, he was surrounded by a constant crowd.

He is, after all, one of the most charming and sweet people Panem's ever known.

Later that day, when I was about to walk home with Prim, who was excitedly chattering about the leftover bread awaiting us on the kitchen table, the bread I'd brought home the night prior that had filled our stomachs for the first time in months, I caught the boy looking in our direction. My grey Seam eyes met his baby blues for a microsecond, before he looked away. I snapped my gaze downwards too, embarrassed, when I caught sight of a dandelion.

It was that moment that a bell went off in my head. That I saw how I could survive, how Prim could survive. How, through the things my dad had taught me, I could keep me and my sister alive.

After that day, I could never stop associating the boy with the bread, the one who gave me hope, with the dandelion that reminded me I wasn't doomed.

I never stopped associating him with his simple act of kindness, even when he became famous for some much less appreciable acts.

And I never stopped kicking myself for failing to thank him, for saving my life and my family's life, before he was whisked away, to a land far from Twelve, called the Capitol. When he later returned, now a part of a much more elite social class, thanking him for his kindness became even less of a possibility.

A girl from the Seam had no business seeking out a boy from Victor's Village. Even if I did have the guts.

Though he isn't exactly in good company here in Twelve, seeing as the only other person who holds the same title is a drunken, middle-aged man who can barely form a coherent sentence most days and lives like a hermit by his own volition.

My thoughts are interrupted by the quiet—almost as quiet as mine, but not quite—steps of Gale.

"You're late," I state without turning around, pulling the cheese from my pocket. "You're lucky Prim's cheese held up under the sun."

But Gale pulls something even more impressive from behind his back. "This will probably go nice with it," he says and I almost gasp.

Fresh bread is so rare in our district, generally reserved for the Peacekeepers and perhaps a merchant who is having a good day. Here in the Seam, fresh bread from the bakery is as common as new school shoes.

Gale updates me on his day as we split the bread and cheese and have our own version of a small feast. He'd gotten to the woods early, while I had been still at home, and shot a squirrel to which he traded for the bread.

"The baker really went for that?" I ask in disbelief. The baker was a subdued, large man, who resembled all three of his sons quietly strongly, and was one of my dad's best customers. Sometimes I think he still trades with me and Gale out of respect to my dad's memory, but a simple squirrel for a loaf of fresh bread isn't common.

"I think he was feeling generous this morning," Gale suggests a little snidely, his bitterness leaking through. "Besides. It's not like the Mellark's need the money they ask for bread. They could easily skim off their precious son and he'd probably never notice."

Gale has a special affinity for hating anyone and anything associated even minimally with the Capitol. He was lost his father in the same mine explosion I lost mine in. But whereas I don't let myself get too worked up over the inequities between the town and the Seam, and especially between us all and the victors, Gale takes a special pride in fuming over the things he cannot change.

I don't mind listening usually, since neither of us can speak our minds in public or even within our own homes, out of fear small ears will pick up on our words and repeat them elsewhere. But today, I just don't have the energy to be a sounding board.

Instead I take a segue towards a slightly different topic, but one, without a doubt, weighing on both our minds. "Prim has been having nightmares of the reaping," I murmur solemnly. "She's convinced they're going to call her name."

Gale shook his head, his demeanor becoming more subdued now. "Least Prim's name is only in there once, Catnip. Rory had to take tesserae this year."

I nod silently at that admission, knowing what it must have cost him to even allow his little brother to take additional risks of being called. Knowing it meant his family of five must be even more hungry than he leads on.

We don't say much more after that, only lingering in the woods long enough to catch some additional game from what I've already collected, and hurry back to town to trade.

As we walk back to the Seam, having divided up our goods evenly, Gale murmurs suddenly, "I might be able to stomach the idea of Rory's name being in that bowl six times if we were still allowed to volunteer."

I bypass his words the best I can. I don't want to think about what Gale must be going through, making himself sick with worry, not for himself but for a sibling in which he considers himself responsible for. And, as it happens once in a lucky moon, I feel grateful that my tesserae is still sufficient for a family of three, and I don't have to worry about Prim the same way. Her one entry pales in comparison to the thousands that are piled in that bowl.

Still, the silence between us as we walk is deafening and I can't take it any longer as we come closer to my house. "At least then, you'd get to see the Capitol," I say lightly, as a means to brighten his mood, even just a little.

At that, Gale rewards me with a humorless smirk. "Generous of the president, isn't it? To allow us district people to experience the great Capitol firsthand while they slaughter our family."

And it's true. Just a few years ago, it was allowed to volunteer as tribute in the place of whoever's name got chosen, as long as you were the same gender and between twelve and eighteen on Reaping Day.

But four years ago, when a twelve-year-old boy volunteered for his seventeen-year-old brother, an outrage sparked across the entire country. People are never happy, in any district, to see a twelve-year-old be chosen for the games. They're the youngest, the smallest, the most innocent, and never in history had a single one made it past the Final Fifteen in the games.

So when one volunteered, the country wasn't pleased in the slightest. However, like always, the anger was contained by Peacekeepers in a matter of weeks, and promises came pouring out from the Capitol that a change would be made after the games that year to ensure never again would this situation occur.

And it never again could. Because three days after the Seventieth Hunger Games, President Snow announced that all volunteering, from that point forward, was officially banned.

This new law is even more ironic when you realize that the twelve-year-old volunteer from that year became the youngest victor in the entire history of the games.

Still, I suppose the president was feeling generous that day, and he threw in a bonus treat for us in the districts. Now when someone is chosen from the reaping bowl, though their fate is sealed definitively when their name is uttered, they get to choose one family member to take on the train ride to the Capitol with them, to get a special viewing of the games with the mentors and the sponsors and the past victors, to get to experience the wonder that is the mysterious Candy Capitol firsthand.

However, when all is said and done, twenty-three family members must ride the train home alone to their districts, with their loved one in a casket beside them. The thought chills me to the bone and I shiver as me and Gale wish each other good luck. We probably won't see each other again until it's time for the customary dinner we all try to put on with our neighbors to celebrate, even minimally, that we've survived another year unchosen.

Prim is already wearing my first reaping outfit when I enter the house, though it is a bit large on her. She's slimmer than even I was at Twelve, despite her having months on me when I attended my first reaping.

I get ready quickly, if only because I want to spend time with her before we have to go. I protect Prim in every way I can but I'm powerless against the reaping.

Still, she's only entered once and that's as safe as anyone can get from being chosen. It's almost unheard in the Seam to be that safe from the games.

But my sister never did appear like she fit in here anyway. Her golden blonde hair and sky blue eyes resemble the merchants, not the Seam, and her and our mother stick out like sore thumbs next to our neighbors.

Our mom is restless now, busying herself with preparing the food for our small feast tonight and braiding Prim's hair and then mine.

I still haven't fully forgiven her for leaving us when we needed her most, but I also can't imagine how difficult it must be to have to send both your children off to be potentially chosen for an absolute death. And I let her hug me as I guide Prim out the door.

Attendance is mandatory for all in the district, but the ones viable for being chosen and those just watching don't typically enter together.

I guide Prim by hand into town, the walk feeling longer than it did with Gale. Perhaps it's the trembling twelve-year-old I'm towing, or perhaps I'm more afraid than I'm even admitting to myself.

After all, unlike my sister, I have twenty slips with my name splayed across this year. It's not as a bad as someone like Gale, who has forty-four chances of being called. But it's not as safe as the kids from town, who likely only have to worry about a handful of slips with their names.

Its not that they're rich by any standard, but they get by better than those in the Seam. Even if they're hungry, they're not at risk of starving, and no one is going to sign up for tesserae unless there is no alternative.

A year ago, my mother let it slip once over dinner, just out of the blue really, that my father had always sworn no child of his would be in need of tesserae.

I shake my head, as if to physically rid myself of the reminder. I don't want to dwell on what my father would feel if he were here. I don't want to be reminded how different things would be if he hadn't died.

I help Prim sign in and then drop her off, as gently as I can, with the other girls her age. At the last minute, she pulls on my hand, yanking me back to her with surprising force.

"Prim, I have to go stand with the sixteens," I say as she leans up and kisses my cheek.

"I just wanted to say I love you," she whispers softly, her big blue eyes so terrified, and then she steps back into the crowd of twelves surrounding her.

I sigh softly and give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. She truly is the best of our parents. Kind, smart, level-headed. She's funny and resourceful too, even if she can't take hunting animals herself.

She is the only person I'm certain that I love. And just about the only thing that keeps me going most days.

As I make my way to the sixteens, straightening my mother's dress on my hips, I check the clock. Only five minutes before we start. Before our lovely Capitol escort, Effie Trinket, reads off two names in her distinctive, afflicted accent. Before two kids know they're never coming home again.

This place isn't much. But it is all we've ever known, and no one wishes to leave it.

As more people crowd in, I begin to pick up an excited buzz in the girls surrounding me. Already knowing what I'll see, I crane my neck just the same, to peer up at the stage ahead.

Sure enough, I see exactly what I knew I would.

There's four chairs set up on the stage. One for Effie Trinket, because no one from the Capitol could ever bear to stand for more than three minutes at a time and she must have a seat to relax in before she calls out the names and sends two of us—a lucky boy and girl, as she says it—to the slaughter.

One of the other chairs is occupied by Mayor Undersee. A man who looks like he's been beaten down by life too many times as it is and would rather be anywhere but here. His daughter is my age. She sits with me at lunch, since Gale is two grades ahead of me and we rarely see each other at school. We make polite small talk but other than that, I barely know anything about her, and by association, her father.

However, it's neither of them that's stirring up the buzz within the crowd—admittedly, more so with the female portion of the crowd—and it's definitely not Haymitch Abernathy, who's stumbling on stage right at this moment. He managed to win the Fiftieth Hunger Games and I still can't imagine how. He's a paunchy man my mother's age and he's never sober, on the rare time he's even seen in public. Today is no exception, as he flops onto a chair gruffly, and murmurs something unintelligible with his eyes closed.

No, the murmuring, the now batting eyes and coy smiles, the soft vibrato still traveling within the crowd, are all because of the last guest of honor, walking upon the stage right behind his old mentor.

Peeta Mellark.

Winner of the Seventieth Hunger Games. Youngest ever. District Twelve's first and last volunteer. The twelve-year-old that changed the rules for the entire country.

The youngest mass murderer in history of Panem.

And now one of it's most beloved celebrities.

Peeta is smart—brilliantly smart—and he's always been charismatic. Even at twelve, he had the Capitol audience, as well as every single soul watching on television at home, eating out of the palm of his hand.

It doesn't hurt that at sixteen, he's become quite a looker. His blonde curls, his blue eyes, those long lashes and bubblegum pink lips. His fair, perfect skin that has not a blemish in sight. His toned, muscular body and devastatingly genuine smile that no one can help but fall in love with.

He's also the boy who saved my life. The one who committed the simple act of kindness, knowing it would cost him, to help me.

I never thanked him. And now I never can, as I'm sure he has zero memory of me. After everything else that's happened to him since, after the last four years of living as a Capitol darling, as one of the country's most cherished victors, he'd never remember the starving eleven-year-old he threw some burned bread to in a rainstorm.

But I remember him. I don't know if it's what he did for me that day or what he did for his brother only a matter of weeks later, but something about Peeta Mellark crawled under my skin four years ago and ever since, I've never been able to completely shake the feeling I get inside upon seeing him.

I break my gaze away, refusing to stare at the boy, who I will always accredit as the one who saved my life. I venomously refuse to gawk at him, like every other girl in the district.

He rarely comes out of his house when he's home here in Twelve, and I know the overzealous amount of attention he receives just by going to his parents' bakery has to be at least a part of the reason. Unlike Haymitch, who has lost his clout and his appeal with age and with deterioration, Peeta has only gained more and more notoriety as the years pass by.

You'd be hard pressed to find anyone in Twelve, outside of a few outliers like Gale perhaps, who'd say a negative word about Peeta Mellark.

Of course, rumors about his random and long stretches spent in the Capitol itself are always floating around, no matter what time of year it is, but they don't affect his public persona or anyone's opinion of him. He is, after all, the most valuable figure Twelve has and perhaps the only thing we can take any pride in.

Effie Trinket steps up to the microphone just as I turn my head away from the stage. "Welcome!" She greets, so vivaciously, so brightly, I can't imagine it even resonates in her head that she's just moments away from announcing two of our impending funerals. "Welcome, everyone! To the reaping for the Seventy-Fourth Annual Hunger Games!"

I can't even bear to listen as she prattles on, with too much confidence and dignity for someone dressed in every neon color known to man, speaking in such a peculiar accent, with a thickly painted face that is so blatantly visible to the every eye here today, even in the back row. Doesn't she realize how ridiculous she is to us? Doesn't she realize how wrong it is to preach about the morals and disciplines of the Capitol, in such a prideful voice, when they're the ones about to murder us for entertainment, and in repentance for a long over war that only a few elders can still remember?

As I advert my eyes, my gaze travels once again to the back of the stage, and I'm more than a little surprised to see Peeta Mellark with a similar expression as mine. He, too, is shifting his eyes elsewhere, away from his own escort, looking sick to his stomach.

Of course, it still can't be easy for him, even with his own games four years in the past. He was a literal child when he volunteered and it's fact that he didn't understand what he was getting himself into when he took his brother's place that fateful day. His innocence was stolen as soon as the countdown ended and talk still circulates, even in the Hob, that he wakes up screaming most nights, calling out the names of fallen tributes. Though those words are not given much weight in the Seam, as we all know, people get bored in this tiny district and bored people begin to spew lies whenever encouraged.

Effie continues, in a long overdone mantra, one I could recite in my sleep, the same one she spews every year, that two kids from every district must be chosen to battle to the death in a new and invigorating—one of her favorite words—arena, in order to pay for the blood shed during the rebellion and war, in order to ensure we'll never again even think to rebel.

It would almost be easier to swallow, this whole charade, if the people sent from the strange land of the Capitol would just be honest and blunt with us. If they'd just admit that they see us as lesser than, as animals or beasts of some sort, as less than human beings. It'd be easier if the Capitol spokespeople would just outright say, "we'll take your children, we'll starve your district, we'll ruin your homes, we'll broadcast the deaths of those you love most, all to keep you too powerless to fight. In order to make sure you never are able to stand strong, we have to kick your legs out from under you first."

Instead of being honest though, Effie Trinket is reiterating the Treaty Of Treason, in a tone so serious that it takes all the self-control possible to stop several boys standing in the fourteens from bursting out laughing. Her accent and a serious tone do not mesh well together.

Once she's done though, my heart automatically skips a beat. Because, after four years of standing in this square, I know exactly what's coming. "Ladies first!" Effie announces and I feel a bead of sweat glide down my forehead, both from anxiety and from the overload of heat. Reapings always take place in the start of the hottest month of the year.

Standing in my mother's well-crafted dress, one of the most luxurious pieces of clothing we own, only makes my perspiration worsen, as the dress was clearly made to keep the wearer as warm as possible.

Our district escort makes her way over the bowl containing the names of every girl eligible to be picked in the entire district and I feel myself take in a breath involuntarily.

There's twenty chances she's going to call out my name. Twenty chances I'll be sent to an almost imminent death. Twenty chances Prim will grow into her teen years, and later adulthood, without a sister.

The gut-churning fear I'd repressed all morning, in that moment, overtakes my entire being, curling up like a ball in the pit of my stomach, as I do my best to listen on baited breath, somehow expecting to hear my own name spoken through the raucous microphone for all to hear.

Don't be me, I whisper inside my head, more fearful than I'd ever admit out loud. Don't be me. Please, don't be me.

And, as it turns out, it's not me.

Instead it's the name I never in a million years thought I'd hear. The name I believed to be so safe I didn't even allow myself to worry about her.

"Primrose Everdeen!"

[forever--rain]

hi :) for the ask game: 5 (i've been meaning to ask you this independently of ask games but i keep forgetting so yay!), 21, 28, 29, and 33?

Hi, Blue! Hope you’re doing well today! 💜💜

5. If you had to choose a favourite out of all of your multi chaptered stories, which would it be and why?

If I’m sticking with completed multi chapter fics that I’ve written, it’s gotta be A Delicate Balance. I loved writing from Zuko and Katara’s points of view. It really allowed the tension to build and it was fun to see how much emotion and backstory I could fit into a story that takes place in a 24-hour time period. Suffice it to say, I have a soft spot for the old friends falling for one another trope that has next to nothing to do with my personal life 😜.

21. Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

I have absolutely fallen in love with what halfhoursonearth is doing with I Asked You First. The characters have been aged up (which I LOVE because mastering an element seems to take remarkably little time and the world of ATLA seems suspiciously small. They’ve got some serious GOT travel timelines going on in canon that really bug me), the story has turned into SO much more than I was expecting based on the premise, and it’s just a really lovely, well-written book 3 AU. The characterization is excellent, there’s some great female friend bonding as well as male friend bonding, the emotions come through with such sharp clarity, and the plot involving Zuko’s family has me ON THE EDGE OF MY FRICKIN SEAT. The balance between showing and telling is superb—something I struggle with myself and has allowed me to learn more about the skill! It’s a beautiful fic and I highly recommend it!

(You can also find a delightful drabble halfhoursonearth wrote for ZKDD here. It’s STUNNING.)

28. What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fanfiction?

How much of my time it was going to take up! I’m having to relearn healthy boundaries with it—which may or may not mean I’m retooling and paring down my Zutara month submissions and trying to nail down some concrete goals for finishing my other WIPs. I’ve got a lot of creative energy going in a lot of different directions right now and it’s a bit overwhelming. This is a hobby I love and I don’t want to lose that!

29. Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

Wind-Songs in the Pines is my baby, my love, my absolute delight. It’s rated G and is inspired by Anne of Green Gables. I think that G-rated fics often don’t get the attention they deserve. But I also think people see that it’s inspired by AOGG and that they might need to know about the books—but they don’t! At all! Wind-Songs is basically just the rivals to friends to lovers trope with TONS of pining. And it takes place over the course of about ten years in the 1890s/early 1900s. It’s so fun and it’s so sweet and I love it with all my heart. It’s like my comfort writing project!

33. What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?

Any time someone tells me that they come back to reread one of my fics over and over again, they steal a little slice of my heart and turn me into an emotional puddle of goo. 🥺🥰

Thanks for asking, dearest!! 💜💜

Come ask me things about writing fic!

[peppersonironi]

Siblings: The Truth of the Matter

For @duketectivecomics‘s Duke Week Day Six: All in Batfamily

Summary: Duke had a strange family. Two of his siblings had been raised from birth to be assassins. One was born in a circus. One had been a crime lord for a time. Yet another was the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company by the age of seventeen. All of them dressed up in spandex every night to punch bad guys.So when he was woken up by icy water being splashed in his face, tied to a chair in nothing but his boxers, he wasn't surprised. Now, that's not to say he wasn't worried. Duke was definitely worried. Especially since it was these two. AKA Duke gets tied up and questioned by his siblings, all while drugged with Truth Serum!

Notes: I’ve had this for a while (it was going to be a chapter of my Batfam/Avengers Crossover), and figured I might as well submit it! What’s family without pranks, right? I might do a new one later on, but we’ll see!

Duke had a strange family. Two of his siblings had been raised from birth to be assassins. One was born in a circus. One had been a crime lord for a time. Yet another was the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company by the age of seventeen. All of them dressed up in spandex every night to punch bad guys.

So when he was woken up by icy water being splashed in his face, tied to a chair in nothing but his boxers, he wasn't surprised. Now, that's not to say he wasn't worried. Duke was definitely worried. Especially since it was these two.

“Now, Thomas,” Damian said, setting a now empty water bucket to the side, “we have a few questions for you-”

“And since we loaded you up with truth serum, there's no way you're getting out of it!” Jason finished. He had an evil grin on his face as he fiddled with a hanging lightbulb that provided light to the otherwise pitch-dark room.

“Of course, the results of this session will go straight to Father. I'm sure he will take them into account with your training.” Damian had produced a clipboard from somewhere, and began to write on it with a… was that a feather quill? Gosh, Duke's brothers were so extra. “Todd, you may now commence.”

Duke could have sworn he heard water drip slowly into a pool as Jason bent over into Duke's face.

“Okay Duchess, what did you do with my power puff girls guillotine? I know you were next to it last week.”

“Umm …” Duke didn't quite know what to say. This was not what he was expecting from The Red Hood. How could he even keep a straight face?! “Jay, do you know how weird that sounded?”

Jason did not find that funny. He stood up straight. “I guess we're doing this the hard way.”

“Wait, what?” Duke started to panic. Knowing Jason, 'the hard way' would probably involve lots of guns. “I don't know what you're talking about! I didn't know you even had a guillotine, let alone a power puff girls one!” Duke couldn't hide the upturn of his lip at the end of his speech. That was one sentence he never thought he would say.

“You saw it when you were in my room last Thursday!” Jason paused, and Duke once again heard the ominous drip. Drip. Drip. Of the water. “Say, Duchess, why were you in my room last Thursday?”

Duke thought back. “I think I was looking for you,” he began, “Dick wanted everyone together for a movie night.”

Jason shook his head. “That may add up, but you've still been around my stuff an awful lot, lately.” 

“Like what?” Duke asked, honestly confused.

“MY CANDY STASH!” Jason blew up. He waved his hands around, almost hitting the hanging lightbulb. “In the kitchen! You got into it, I know you did!”

“Do you mean the single Snicker's in the bottom cabinet?” Duke had found it just yesterday, but didn't touch it for fear of a glitter bomb booby trap. “I'm sorry, if there were more, I didn't touch them. I'm not your perp!”

“That Snicker's is my stash, duchess! And you looked at it funny! I know you were thinking about taking it!”

“Do you know what happens to people in this house when they eat the last of something?” Duke was filled with horrible memories of things he wished he could unsee. “There was all out war when Steph finished Dick's Captain Crunch cereal!”

Damian nodded his head as he kept writing. “Avoiding the questions and denying blame. Good, Thomas. I didn't think you had it in you.”

Jason glared at his partner in crime while Duke denied the … compliment?

“No I'm not! I'm answering the questions honestly!”

Damian gave Duke a look that was eerily similar to Dick's 'oh, honey' face. 

“What about my rubber bullets, kid?” Jason once again leaned down over Duke, and rested his hand on the back of the chair. “You took them. Thought using a vacuum would be sneaky, did'ja?”

Ah, now Duke was in trouble. He and Stephanie had been teamed up for a prank war, part of which involved stealing Jason's ammo. “That's what was all over the floor in the living room?” Thank goodness Bruce had taught him how to evade truth serum.

“What the f*** did you think they were?!” Jason was leaning in close now, his glare boring into Duke's soul. Drip. Drip. Drip. Went the water, its pace ever steady. Damian stood to the side, a small smirk on his face as he wrote down every twitch in Duke's face, every breath. Duke began to sweat from the pressure.

“What's going on?”

All three of the rooms occupants looked over to the sudden intruder. Stephanie stood in the now open doorway, flooding the room with light. She looked very confused.

Duke pulled his eyes away from his savior long enough to take in his now revealed surroundings, and was quite surprised.

Instead of some dark, dank corner of the Batcave, or some KGB torture cell, Damian and Jason had set up shop in one of Alfred's drawing rooms. The windows had been blocked off to limit to the light, and the furniture had been pulled to the sides of the room the only other thing on the floor was a large bowl of water. The lone lightbulb swung precariously from a wire pulled from the chandelier. The Chandelier itself seemed normal, except for -

“Dick?” Duke was open-mouthed at the 20-something year old man wrapped around the gold and crystal, an eyedropper in hand, which he seemed to be using to produce those ominous dripping noises. 

“Uh,” Dick laughed nervously, “hi?”

Stephanie laughed, grabbing the doorframe to steady herself. “Oh, this is gold! What are you even doing?”

Jason grinned, standing straight. He hit his head on the light bulb, but didn't seem that bothered. “We're interrogating Duke. Wanna join in?”

“Truth serum?”

“You know it.”

Stephanie beamed as she skipped over to the others. Before she could join in on the Duke-torture, however, Dick dropped down from his perch and put a hand out to stop the purple-clothed terror.

“Wait, you gotta be in character.”

Crap, Duke thought, as Stephanie nodded solemnly before shutting the door. Once the room was back to darkness, Dick retreated into the shadows, and the dripping continued.

Stephanie walked up toward Duke, pausing to take a deep breath. She put her hands in front of her face, drawing them down as she let out the air. Within moments, Stephanie Brown became a whole other person. A much, much scarier person.

Jason cursed as Steph stalked forward, giving Duke small satisfaction that he wasn't the only one scared. “Duke,” Stephanie drawled as she bent down, “Pancakes or Waffles?”

“I …” Duke looked around, searching for help. Some kind of help. Anything that could get him out of this mess. H***, he'd even take Bruce at this point.

“Duuuuuuke?” Jason asked. “Why don't you answer the lady? Surely old Alfred has taught you some manners while living here?”

“I …” Duke closed his eyes. “My answer is … yes.”

A small snicker floated from the darkness. Great, at least Dick found this amusing.

Stephanie, however, did not. She unleashed upon her prisoner the full brunt of her own batglare(TM). It was different than Bruce's. More Vicious. She accessorized it with a tight smile.

“Which you prefer, Duke?”

“I … I couldn't tell you.” Not if he wanted to live. “I … haven't had them in a while …” Ah, there you go Duke, he thought, beating the system.

Stephanie looked to Jason, and they both grinned. “Oh, I think we can help with that.” From somewhere behind her, Steph pulled two plates, one with a stack of pancakes, the other with waffles. Somehow, they were both warm. “Which do you like better Duke? Pancakes, with their light, fluffiness?” Stephanie waved the plate of pancakes under Duke's nose, and he had to admit they smelled divine. “Waffles, with their crisp exteriors, eggy interiors?” She switched the plates, and her smirk grew as Duke began to tremble. “One is clearly superior.”

“Stay strong, Thomas.” Damian said. The little gremlin had a small grimace on his face. Ah, so he was perfectly fine with stabbing his siblings, but Stephanie's emotional torture was now inhumane?

Yeah, it really was.

Duke smashed his lips together, the only part of his body that wasn't trembling. He wasn't going to tell Steph he preferred pancakes. He'd rather die.

“He's close.” Steph said, deadpan. “He just needs a bit of a push.”

“I got it!” Jason pulled out a syringe from his cargo pants. “One more dose of truth serum. This'll get him singin' like a bird!”

“But I was never Robin!” Duke blurted out before he could stop himself. Jason, Damian, and Stephanie looked unimpressed. “it's true ….” Duke muttered. 

“Poor banter,” Damian said as he took another note on his clipboard. “And to think you were doing rather well. Unlike Todd.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jason said as he tried to inject the dosage into Duke's neck.

“Jason, please!” Duke begged. “Don't! This is too much, even for you!”

“Duchess,” Jason said, shaking his head, “I've killed, maimed, and tortured people. Do you really think this is too much for me?”

“Damian?” Duke turned as much as he could in his restraints to look at his little brother. “Please, have pity! I thought we were good? We play video games together! You've told me I'm acceptable!”

The former assassin turned his head aside . “I apologize Thomas. This must be done.”

“Dick!” Duke was almost to tears at this point. “You're supposed to be the nice one! You're supposed protect your brothers! Protect me!”

Dick's voice trailed from the shadows, full of regret. But also … excitement? “Sorry, Duke, but I also have some questions for you.”

Duke wailed in horror as Jason launched himself forward, jabbing the needle into Duke. “Three minutes should do it.”

“BETRAYAL!” Duke called. Hopefully Alfred would hear. But Alfred knew everything that occurred in his house, so the chances that he wasn't already aware, were slim. Heck, the butler probably approved!

“Once again, Duke.” Stephanie announced, once the allotted time for the serum to start working had passed. She tented her fingers. “Do you prefer Waffles or Pancakes?”

Duke tried to stay quiet, he really did. But none of Bruce's training had prepared him for the horrendous, unstoppable force that was Batman's children.

Just then, Tim Drake opened the door to see a strange scene before him. Duke, tied to a chair wearing nothing but boxers. Jason, standing to the side with an empty syringe, a maniacal gleam in his eye. Stephanie, looking much like the super villains that they fought, her fingers tented, her face dark. Dick, once again wrapped in between the coils of the chandelier, eyedropper in hand.

His eyes were wide and unblinking as his mouth opened and closed, trying to form words.

Unfortunately, fate was not with the captive that day. Duke Thomas couldn't help but blurt out the words that sealed his fate: “I like pancakes better! The texture of waffles is just weird!”

“Uh …” Tim began before cringing as he heard Duke's words, then saw Stephanie's face. He looked to the heavens, as if begging for strength. “You guys look like you need some privacy. I didn't see anything.”

“No!” Duke called. “Tim, don't leave me!”

Tim shut the door behind him, but not before calling out: “Sorry dude, but I value my life.”

Stephanie tutted, shaking her head. “I'm sorry Duke,” she did not look sorry, “But no one's coming to save you.”

Jason whistled. “Wouldn't want to be you right now, Duchess.”

Duke slunk down in his chair. “Me neither.”

Stephanie opened her mouth, about to start a rant on the glories of waffles, when Dick leapt down from the chandelier and handed Steph his eyedropper. “Nuh-uh, it's my turn!”

The purple patron saint of waffles harrumphed, but retreated into the shadows. “I'm not doing that freaky contortion stuff on the chandelier though!”

Dick grinned as he sat down in front of Duke. From a pocket of his jeans, he pulled out an envelope. Out of which he plucked a piece of paper.

“Now, Duke, I have collected some fan-questions for you. All are completely harmless. Do us all a favor and answer … truthfully, eh?”

Duke groaned. “That was just bad, Dick.”

The acrobat didn't seem discouraged. He then unleashed a barrage of questions, completely unrelenting. Luckily, Duke was prepared.

“Best prank you ever pulled?”

“Was prepared.”

“Worst punishment you ever received?”

“Dolled out by Alfred.”

“Most embarrassing memory?”

“Not worth me telling you.”

Jason laughed appreciatively. “He's good.”

Dick narrowed his eyes slightly. “Your funniest pun was …?”

“Better than yours.” 

Stephanie, Jason, and even Damian let out a laugh at that.

“Kid, you are now my favorite brother.”

“Hey!” Damian and Dick said, simultaneously.

“Thanks Jay,” Duke said, “If only you felt this way before you drugged me!”

Jason laughed. “You're funny, Duchess.”

Once again, the door opened. This time, Harper Row stood in the doorway, and she did not look happy.

“What's this that Tim told me about you tying up Duke?”

“It's not what you think!” Dick began.

“Yes it is!” Duke cut in. “They gave me truth serum and are interrogating me!”

There was a war going on in Harper's eyes. On one hand, she seemed to be trying to be the responsible sister. On the other, Harper loved chaos. 

In the end, she sighed. “You guys really shouldn't be doing this. And you, Dick! You're supposed to stop these kinds of shenanigans!”

“That's what I said,” Duke muttered.

Once everyone looked properly remorseful – or at least pretending to be – Harper nodded. “I'm going to go now. This is your only chance.”

As soon as the door closed behind her, and Duke's last hope left, Jason let out a sigh. “That was close. Let's continue, shall we?”

Duke let out a moan, “I thought you were going to stop!”

Stephanie's voice was gleeful as it came from above: “Aw heck no, Duke! This is the most fun I've had in ages!”

“Better hurry up,” Jason said, “B will be home soon.”

Dick nodded sagely. “Of course.” He turned to Duke. “Okay, middle D, one last question for you.” Duke cringed. “It involves ducks.”

Duke’s eyes widened. “NO!” He yelled, knowing exactly what Dick was going to ask. “NO! You can’t make me!

Dick shook his head. “Aw, come on!” Duke continued to shake. “Duke Thomas, how many times have you-”

“What on earth is going on here?” Duke let out a relieved sigh as Bruce opened the door and strowed in. He glared at everyone, and even though every single member of the batfam was immune to Batman’s glare, it still gave Duke’s attackers  siblings pause.

“Just some brotherly bonding, B.” Dick said tentatively. “You know, what you’re always trying to get us to do?”

Jason snorted. “Nothing harmful going on here,” he said, “and that’s the truth.”

Dick chuckled. “Ah, that pun was good, little wing.”

Bruce was not impressed. “Stephanie?”

“We’re having fun!” She said, dropping from the chandelier. “And we’ll clean it up.”

Bruce let out a long, suffering sigh. “Damian, will you tell me what all this yelling is about?”

Damian frowned at his father, before glancing around at his accomplices. “Todd and Grayson insisted on drugging Thomas with Truth serum. I was roped into assisting. I believed that I could keep them from going too far.”

Bruce rubbed his temples and sighed once more.

“If I may, father, Thomas performed admirably under the pressure. You may refer to my notes.”

“Little brat,” Jason muttered, and Stephanie and Dick nodded along.

Bruce shook his head. “I don’t need to see that Damian. Right now I want all of you to go to your rooms. As soon as Alfred is back from the grocery store, He and I will be having a discussion about your cookie privileges.”

Dick, Stephanie, and Jason deflated all at once and filed out of the room. Damian nodded to Duke, then stalked out. Huh, maybe the kid did feel bad.

Once the room was clear, Bruce untied Duke. "I'm sorry about them. If it happens again, come tell me or Alfred."

Duke nodded, "Thanks, B."

Bruce paused at the door on his way out. “The cure is in the cave. Or you can just wait it out.” He frowned, then sighed. “Also, I hope you don’t need me to say this, but please don’t attempt vengeance.”

Duke nodded solemnly as Bruce walked out. Then he smirked. He may be comparatively saner than his family, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t up for a bit of payback.

“Maybe Cass will help me,” Duke muttered to himself. “That’ll be fun.”

[nebulawritings]

Birthday Massage

This is pure, unabashed, indulgent smut, people. Re-write of The Nanny Affair Chapter Four. There is dialect and writing taken directly from the Choices app, which they own the content and characters of. MC is Anna. Enjoy! Written in the Second Person (like the app). First time I’ve written in that style.

Choices Stories You Play: The Nanny Affair

Pairing: F!MC (Anna) x M!Sam

Reading Time: ~ 5 minutes

Warning: Mature content. Buckets of it. If you’re not old enough, behave and don’t read.

__________________________________________________________

“Goodnight, everyone”. Fuming, not looking back, you return to your room and sit heavily on your bed, still unsure of what happened. You’re holding the massage bar you bought for Sam, having not put it down after trying to tidy a little, just before Sofia arrived. Huffing, you pull out your phone to text the one friend you know who’ll understand.

OMG Sofia is here ��  Anna 

WAT!!! – Jenny

She dropped in unannounced during Sam’s bday dinner. She’s freaking terrible! You should’ve seen the way she was treating everyone. She LITERALLY called me the help – Anna

Gross. Wat did Sam say – Jenny

Nothing. – Anna

EXCUUUUUUUUSE ME?! – Jenny

He tried. But Sofia kept talking over him. Honestly, I think Sam was too shocked to do more – Anna

I hope so. Cuz otherwise. WTF – Jenny

I don’t know, Jen, there’s no way I can compete with that. She bought the boys Armani watches. ARMANI, JENNY, ARMANI– Anna

Listen, babe, u gotta sho him wat he’s missing out on. Remember the bar boy in Miami? – Jenny

OMG when are you going to stop using Miami guy against me?! – Anna

All I’m sayin is dat you worked harder for that, and he wasn’t a hot stuff multi-gajillionaire! Did Miami guy leave the gala with Lucy Street? Nuh uh, gurl, he left wit you – Jenny

You‘re halfway through responding when a knock on your door pries you away from the phone screen. If it’s Sofia with dry cleaning or something I swear I’m not accountable for my actions you think to yourself, before opening the door to find that Sam is standing in your doorway, shirt unbuttoned and chest bare, looking tired and dishevelled and yet, somehow, still incredibly sexy.

“Anna…”

“Sam, hey…Is everything okay?”. You’re surprised to see him at your door, and you try to push the thoughts of why he’s turned up, looking like that, to see you from your mind.

“Can we talk? Sofia is gone, and the boys are down for the night”.

At the mention of her name you feel anger bubbling up, and your expression hardens. “I was about to go to bed, actually”.

“It won’t take long. I need to apologize for what happened”.

Sam touches his neck tenderly and releases a heavy sigh. Your hands itch to help him relieve some of that tension, to stroke him, to touch him…His gaze meets yours, pleading with you.

“Please. I don’t like how we left things back there”.

Your resolve wavers, and your mind flicks back to the conversation you had with Jenny. To the small, delicate package folded neatly in your bathroom, an impulse buy when you’d been out with the boys earlier that you’d hoped would be an extra surprise for Sam, should the night have gone that way. It hadn’t, not with the entrance of Sofia, but she was gone now. After a lingering look, you step back and give Sam space to enter the room. You close the door behind him and turn, gasping softly when you find him surprisingly close.

“I’m so sorry, Anna. I never should’ve let Sofia talk to you that way. I should’ve been more insistent that she stop immediately, instead of trying to wait for an opening ”.

Sam reaches out and places his hands over your shoulders. You tense, wanting him to touch you and leave you alone all at once. “Sam…Why didn’t you stop her right away?”. You feel a little betrayed, although the goosepimples rising where his warm hands rest on your skin do nothing to hide your other feelings about him.

“I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of the boys…But that’s no excuse. Especially since Sofia ended up doing that anyway” he replied, remorseful.

“She made me feel like I wasn’t even there, Sam”.

“I told her that was completely unacceptable as soon as I finished putting the boys to bed”.

Despite everything, a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. Of course she didn’t put them to bed, wouldn’t want to break a nail. You try not to be too smug, although the thought of her wrestling them into bed makes it hard not to smile more. “Oh?” you say, trying to sound nonchalant, “Aunt Sofia didn’t want to do it?”.

Sam hesitates. “She…struggles with them. I decided to save us all an hour or two and take over”.

You meet Sam’s gaze, and feel yourself start to thaw a bit. His hands slip away from your shoulders, causing you to shiver as they go.  

“Sam…I forgive you”. You smile softly. “You make it hard to stay mad at you”.

“Good”.

Your expressions sours. “It’s not the same as an apology from her, though. Also, why isn’t Sofia here, talking to me herself? Is she too good to apologize to ‘the help’”. You make speech marks in the air, and Sam winces a little, clearly uncomfortable at you referring to yourself like that.

“I told her to go home. I just…”. He sighs. “I just wanted to enjoy what was left of my birthday. Everything had been so perfect…until she got here”.

You notice how he looks tense, as he rubs his shoulders with a pained expression. “I just got these knots out, and they’re already back”.

Your mind flicks to the massage bar, to the package wrapped up in your bathroom, and you make an instant decision. In the short time you’ve known him, you’ve seen Sam as a thoughtful, kind person who wants to make the world a better place; and someone like Sofia was not going to be anywhere near good enough for him. Or the boys. Aside from that, he was gorgeous; and Jenny was right. You knew how to play the game, and play it you would. “Maybe I can do something about that for you”. You move behind Sam and slip your palms over his shoulders, digging your thumbs into the tense muscles. He groans loudly, and you relish in the sound.

“Ohmygod…That feels…But you’ve already done more than enough, Anna”.

You smile, kneading harder. “Not as far as these knots are concerned”. Sam moans again and you shiver at the noise, resolve hardening with every passing moment. Your lips find his ear, speaking just above a whisper. “Tell me where it hurts”.

“A little higher. Almost – Ohhhh…”.

You dig your thumbs harder into his back, and you feel him melt into your touch. “You should get on the bed” you whisper into his ear boldly. You see Sam swallow, and he looks at you for a long moment before obeying. Your mind wanders, and you can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking. You watch Sam stretch out on the bed, facing away from you, and you smile. “I’ll be five minutes” you promise, “could you take your pants off?”. You slip into your ensuite before he could ask questions.

A little more than five minutes later and you emerge, Sam still facing away from you.

“You know” he muses, hearing the ensuite door open, “I think you’re one of the only people who’ve kept me waiting and I’m not…”. His voice trails off as he turns to look at you, and he swallows hard. “Anna…”.

You blush at the way he stares at you, but you stand firm. Slowly you move over to the bed, the white silk dressing gown you’re wearing not doing anything to hide the lacy, red bra and matching thong you’d changed into, nothing else covering you. You’d chosen the deep red to compliment your skin, and you looked killer, if you did say so yourself. Then again, by the look on Sam’s face, you didn’t need to tell yourself that he liked what he saw. “Would you like a massage, Mr Dalton?” you purred, licking your lower lip as you approached the edge of the bed, slipping the silken gown off painfully slowly.

“I…You-“

“Shhh” you whisper, smiling softly. You reach over to the massage bar and straddle his back, a warm wave of pleasure rippling through you as your bare skin touches his, pleasantly surprised that he’d obeyed, and was now only wearing his boxers (the shirt also discarded on the floor). You rub the bar over your hands, making them slick with the sweet-smelling oil, before you splay them on his shoulders. Sam groans immediately, and you bite your lip, mapping every contour of his toned back and shoulders; admiring the tanned skin on show.

“You feel…That feels…” he mutters, shifting and squirming under your touch as you move your hands lower, daring to slip beneath the material of his boxers, toying with his hips and butt. Sam inhales sharply, and you note his toes and fingers curling. “Ohhh…Christ, Anna…What are you doing to me”.

You shiver, the way his voice aches your name making a pool of excitement rise up within you. “Good things, I hope” you replied, bending down. Your breasts press against his back as you whisper in his ear. “Sam, I…” you couldn’t say anything else, as his lips caught your own in a passionate kiss. All thoughts of what you were going to say drifted away and you allow yourself to be pulled down, the room spinning as he flips you over; now looking down at you with hungry eyes. The way you watch them rake over your body makes you giddy, and you shift beneath him. “No fair” you mutter, placing your hands flat against his chest. “I wasn’t done”. You push back and Sam lets you, laughing a little as you settle on-top of him again, facing him this time.

“You look incredible” he muttered, daring to slide his hands over your body. “Is this part of my birthday gift?”. His voice is husky with want, his hands toying with your bra.

“It is” you reply, sliding down his front. “Now, let me show you how else I can work my hands”.

Sam inhales sharply and swears under his breath as you rub the front of his boxers, delighted at his obvious excitement. Slowly you pull them down, your face now next to his hips, and you gasp softly, feeling that desire building up in your core again as you looked upon him. “Why, Mr Dalton” you muttered, gently taking him in your hand, “you kept this quiet, didn’t you?”. You watch gleefully as he opened his mouth to respond, only for his reply to melt into a guttural groan, your hand now pumping his cock, thumb swiping over the head where a bead of pre-cum had appeared.

“Don’t stop” he pleads, “that feels so good…Don’t stop…”.

His voice and his words spur you on, your own anticipation building and building. You bend your head and lick the tip of his cock, a sudden gasp from Sam all the permission you need to take him into your mouth. You bob up and down, moaning around his girth, your mouth full and dripping with saliva and precum, dribbling down your chin. Unable to take it anymore, you slip a free hand underneath the lacy material of your thong, and you run gentle circles over your clit; moaning harder.

“Anna, I-I can’t-!” Sam groans, his hips bucking into your mouth. You moan louder, preparing for his release, when you suddenly find yourself being flipped over. You gasp as his fingers find your soaking core, and he starts to rub, desperately, making you squirm and cry out. “Sam!” you beg, melting under his ministrations. Your cries were smothered by a desperate, passionate kiss and you eagerly returned it, your tongue swiping over his as he positioned himself over you, all the while moving his fingers in just the right way to make you putty in his hands.

His eyes, dark and foggy with lust, found yours and you nod in answer to the silent question. You wrap your arms around his back, clinging onto him desperately as he slips inside you, groaning loudly as he pushes in, slowly, savouring it.

“Ohhhh God….Sam, please” you beg now, bucking your hips in time with his as he thrusts in and out of you, again and again, hitting that sweet spot oh so deep inside. You’ve never felt anything like it, stars already blinding your vision but still riding the high; building over and over. “Please…!”.

“I’m not…I don’t” he says, voice strained, shaking his head.

“It’s okay!” you promise desperately, tugging him close and being forever grateful that Jenny had talked you into getting an IUD. “You can trust me, I swear just – Don’t stop. It’s okay, please. I need you to..! Please, Sam!”.

His resolve wavers and his lips meet yours again in a crashing embrace. “Anna-!” he cries out, finally, pressing himself into you fully as he comes undone, thrusting and groaning as he finishes deep inside of you.

Your own orgasm follows soon after, and you shiver uncontrollably, writhing beneath him as your nails dig into his back, shaking as you desperately cling to eachother, each one of you moving and grinding in sheer bliss

You slowly come down from your high, although you stayed connected for a while, laying together and enjoying the comforting silence and comedown.

“I’m glad these walls are insulated for noise control” Sam mutters, absently mindedly playing with a strand of your hair. “I wouldn’t want you to stay quiet if that’s what’s in store…Your voice is so damn sexy”.

You laugh and slap his chest, before running your hands over the skin. “I take it this means your not mad or…Gunna chuck me out?”.

Sam sits back, stared deeply into your eyes. “I would never” he whispers gently, stroking your cheek. “But what this means I…I don’t know”.

You nod, understanding, and rest your head against him. “Can we just enjoy this?” you ask softly, as you feel his grip tighten around you.

“I would like nothing more” he replied.

You feel a gentle kiss on your head and you sigh, content, slowly drifting off to sleep in his arms.

[star-and-the-motherverse]

Chapter 6 - Off She Goes

The Butterfly Who Lost Her Wings

Word Count: 3476 | AO3 Mirror | Previous | Next

Summary: Marco tries not to think about summer. A familiar face realizes he’s out of the loop.

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* ☾ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

It didn’t really feel as if summer had ever arrived, to Marco, but it wasn’t like that was a trait unique to this particular one. When he was little, summer was the most exciting time of the year, but as he’d grown up, summer started to feel like it was getting shorter each time it came around. It had sort of lost its magic, in a strange way.

Not to say it was unwelcome—far from that, really. Summer break still probably was one of the better parts of the year. He got to spend a lot more time with his friends when they weren’t in school, and it was nice to take a couple months of break, not having to worry so much about the future.

But as days went by, he was starting to realize that he was… bored. By almost all of it. And it was strange, so strange. Really, this summer was equally as mundane as those that preceded it, and yet, here he was, feeling overwhelmingly alone.

You know exactly why that is.

Marco tried his best not to think about it—about her—as he went about his day-to-day life. But over half a year had passed since his everyday life had been upheaved. He’d practically forgotten what the bathroom countertop actually looked like when it was completely clear, or how small the guest room really was before it belonged to Star. They were little details that he was sure never would have stood out to him, not in the past. His painfully normal life had never stuck out to him like this until now, after everything that’s happened.

He missed the unpredictable nature of having Star as a housemate. The excitement, the danger, and everything else. He missed it so much.

Everything is still about Star.

He rolled over in bed, groaning, not able to find the motivation to get up just yet.

Some of his old friends hadn’t spoken to him in what felt like ages. Did he miss them too? He couldn’t tell. He thought that he did, but couldn’t even begin to think of how he might reach out. Jackie and—to a lesser extent—Janna were really the only friends from school that he regularly talked with anymore. He wasn’t exactly doing a good job of keeping in touch with anyone else.

Before he could think on it any longer, his phone vibrated. It took a surprising amount of effort for him to sit up and grab it off of bedside table. Reading over his lock screen, he saw that Jackie had texted him twice, the first message being from about an hour ago, and the other happening just now.

Jackie: Hey! How are u doing?

Jackie: Just realized you might still be asleep, sorry! xoxo

12:30 in the afternoon wasn’t a completely unreasonable time for a teenager to sleep in to, but Marco rarely ever stayed in bed for that long. He’d been up since noon at least—on a normal day, he’d be annoyed after wasting time, laying there and feeling sorry for himself.

Marco: Nah, I wasn’t. Sorry, missed your first text

Marco: It’s been a long morning 😅

Jackie: No worries :) Just checking in on u!

Jackie: Have u had lunch? Theres a food truck fair in town at the park, I think it would be fun to go!

Jackie: I bet theres a nacho truck somewhere, probably not as good as urs tho :)

He wasn’t really hungry at all, but he could certainly use the distraction. And he loved spending time with Jackie, more than anything. She always knew exactly what to say to make him feel better.

Marco: That sounds great. Did you want to meet there?

Jackie: Sure! Is 1:00 too soon?

Jackie: Also, hope u don’t mind but I invited Janna to come too!

Janna was one of the few people he’d managed to keep up regular conversation with, mostly over text. She didn’t give off the impression of a very social person, but then again, their unusual friendship probably didn’t make a lot of sense to outsiders, either.

Her reaction to the news of Star’s disappearance had been about in line with he was expecting, which wasn’t really saying much. Janna was an absolute wildcard, and he had a hard time figuring out what was going through her head even when things were normal. So her complete non-reaction, which might have caught other people off-guard, was just another Janna thing, in his mind.

She never liked talking about her emotions, and this would be no different. All he could really do was let her know that he was available to talk if she never needed to.

Marco: 1:00 is fine. And that’s cool with me

Marco: She’d probably find a way to invite herself if you didn’t.

Jackie: Lol ur probably right :P

Jackie: I’ll see you then💖

He let out a sigh and set the phone down on his bed, finally convincing himself to stand up. It wouldn’t take him that long to get ready to go out, mercifully. Such was the benefit of wearing a hoodie every day—even if the summer weather wasn’t exactly kind to him for it. He’d have plenty of time to get to the park and meet up with his friends, provided nothing weird happened.

Of course, as luck would have it, a lone laser puppy came wandering into the room, his tail wagging in excitement.

“Oh, hey… Sajak?” Star was the only one who could ever tell them apart, but he liked to believe he was getting better at it. “Yeah… Sajak.”

The puppy gave short little barks as he hopped around the room, coming to a stop in front of Marco and rearing up on his hind legs to demand his attention.

“‘Scuse me, buddy,” he said, carefully stepping over Sajak so that he could better reach his closet. “Sorry, but I’ve got things I gotta do today. No more lounging around.”

Sajak kept running circles around him and the room, occasionally pausing to stare at him expectantly. Marco tried to head out to the hall and towards the bathroom, but nearly tripped over the puppy as he rushed out in front of him before flopping down in front of the closed bathroom door.

“What in the world has gotten into you?” Marco asked, laughing, mostly to himself. He scooped up the dog with the intention of moving him. “You don’t feel like shooting me with a laser today? No?”

It was sort of a joke. He couldn’t quite remember last when the puppies had used their laser eyes. He wondered if it was related to whatever was going on with magic. It was a bit nicer to pretend that Sajak was just being particularly nice today, though.

Before he got the chance to move, a horde of laser puppies charged up the stairs, yapping excitedly. Barko Diaz brought up the rear, dragging in a multi-leash with him and nearly tripping over its cable several times as the lugged it up to the second floor.

“Seriously?” It was pretty cute at first, but now this was getting kind of ridiculous. “Guys, come on! I’m trying to do things!”

But he knew better than to tempt fate. These puppies were absolutely ruthless when it came to getting what they wanted. Truly, how could anyone say no to those adorable little faces?

He let out another low sigh. “Okay, okay, fine!” He’d had stranger mornings. If anything, he was getting exactly what he’d asked for with a distraction. His bad mood from the early morning was a distant memory by this point, which was a rather impressive turnaround.

He made his way slowly through what felt like a minefield of dogs, back to the side of his bed and picked up his phone once more.

Marco: I’m gonna be a little late, I have to take the dogs out on a walk first. They won’t leave me alone, haha

Jackie: Aww, so cute! That’s cause they love u so much ^^

Marco: Just doing my civic duty o7

Marco: See you in a bit ❤️

Jackie: 💖💖

“Settle down, Barko!” He cried out, once he’d turned his attention back to the excitable puppies. “I can’t put a leash on you if you won’t sit still!!”

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* ♥︎ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

“What the heck?”

The phrase wasn’t really intended to be a question. It was more like... some sort of out-loud expression of Star’s ever-growing confusion. She’d only been free falling for a few seconds or so, but as she blinked, she somehow found herself standing in front of Echo Creek Academy. She had no idea how or why. She didn’t even remember landing on the ground, which she was sure would have injured her under normal conditions.

“School? Again?!”

What even were the odds that she’d end up on the school’s doorsteps? Unless, for some reason, it was doing that thing where it was in every place she looked—

Oh no… it absolutely was. There was another school right in front of her. When she turned away, there was another school there, too. She turned again and again. Another one, each time.

“You’ve gotta be kidding..! Why?! Why here?!”

She was most definitely somewhere inside of the wand. She shouldn’t have been that surprised—it was one of the most likely options that she’d narrowed down, for cob’s sake—but there was still something deeply unsettling about how she’d found her way back to this place. Not long from now and she’d probably start bumping into past versions of herself, following in her current footsteps like some sort of video game. Only this time, she had no idea of how she was supposed to get out. Hopefully Glossaryck would know to come rescue her if things got bad.

At least those weird disembodied voices hadn’t managed to follow her here. Somewhere along the way she must have lost them.

“I’m not going in the stupid school,” she grumbled, having nothing but negative memories associated with its strange, magical realm counterpart. It’s supposed to be summer! I do what I want!

Instead, she took to the sidewalk, putting her hands in her dress pockets and wandering along, looking around for a glimpse of something, anything else.

There certainly wasn’t any shortage of weird things to look at in the wand. Everywhere she looked were pieces of Echo Creek and Mewni, awkwardly stitched together in ways that didn’t make much sense at all. Street lamps and sidewalks wove between wells and Mewnian carnival tents. Spanish-style houses were dotted between the fields of corn that stretched out into the horizon, from what she could see past the school. Cacti and coniferous trees were growing side by side, as if they were always supposed to be that way. But even with everything going on, the looming silhouette of Butterfly Castle towered over all other set pieces, only dwarfed in size by the mountainous terrain that made up the background of this strange place.

“Ack!” she cried out suddenly, stumbling a bit as the ground beneath her transitioned from sidewalk to an empty parking lot—save for a single chariot parked on the other side. Just ahead of her, a little puddle rested on the uneven pavement, made up of that same green sludge that Toffee had left her to drown in.

She was so overcome with anger and frustration at the sight of it that she kicked it out of impulse. Just before her boot made contact with the puddle, though, she swore she saw a glimmer of light hiding within it—but not nearly soon enough to stop. When her foot landed back on the ground, and the puddle stilled, nothing was there.

A bit shaken, her gaze wandered upwards. The star-shaped insignia in the dark purple sky looked the same as it had before, split in half and all. But as she watched it, she couldn’t help but think it looked a bit dimmer. It’s fine. You’re gonna be fine, she wanted to say, but she never spoke it aloud, not entirely sold on the idea herself.

Was it fine? Is that really why she wasn’t running into any timeline duplicates of herself? She was still alone, sure, and maybe that was a good thing. There wasn’t any immediate danger, or anything like that. So why am I worried?

She wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to quell her doubts.

Surely nothing had changed, right?

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* ☀ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Tom rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand as he made his way out of his room and towards the dining hall, headed out in search of coffee. He never was much of a morning person, and that fact probably wouldn’t come as a surprise to many people. He was never thrilled about having to wake up early for meetings, or summons, or whatever else, but that was something that sort of came with the territory of being a prince.

He’d been trying to avoid Star ever since he’d failed his anger management final exam, following the suggestion from his life coach. It didn’t make sense to him at first—how was he supposed to know when she wanted to talk to him again?—but he’d ultimately come around to Brian’s advice, even if it was with reluctance. It was clear that she still wanted space. He needed to respect that.

It sure was frustrating, though. Patience wasn’t exactly his strong suit.

He was drawn out of his irritated thoughts when a messenger demon nearly crashed into him as he appeared around the corner. “Watch it!” Tom snapped, but the messenger didn’t acknowledge him as he continued in a hurry down the corridor. He couldn’t help but be a bit curious why this particular message was so important that it demanded such prompt attention.

Weirdly, the demon suddenly skidded to a halt, whirling around to come back down the hallway and stop in front of Tom, bowing. “Master Tom! Would you perhaps know where King Dave would be at this hour?”

“Uh… probably in his office?”

“Thank you, Master Tom!” Just as quickly as he’d returned, he was off again, headed back down the hall.

That was weird, Tom noted. He watched the messenger instinctively head towards the throne room, only to remember where he was supposed to be headed and travel down the adjacent hall instead. It wasn’t often that they received news worthy of any interest, so before Tom could convince himself otherwise, he was chasing after the messenger—too intrigued to stop himself from prying. It’s not like I have anything better to do, he remarked inwardly, somewhat dejected.

Light on his feet, he followed the smaller demon at a short distance so that he wouldn’t be noticed. They both quickly arrived at the king’s office, and the messenger disappeared through the towering doorway. Tom was able to catch the conversation before it had really started, listening through the door.

“—uncement from the Butterfly Kingdom, my lord! The Silver Bell Ball has been indefinitely postponed!”

What? If he was being completely honest, he’d sort of forgotten that it was almost time for the Silver Bell Ball again. He had some fond memories of the event from over the years, but he wasn’t really the dancing type. It was more boring than anything else, and it was quite funny how Star agreed with him wholeheartedly. But she always made the point of how it was nice to see everyone again, and he supposed that was one of its better aspects. It would feel weird to not go to it every year.

His father’s thought process mirrored his own. “What?” Dave exclaimed. “But the ball is a yearly tradition! Why would they do such a thing?”

Tom overheard the messenger clear his throat as he unraveled a scroll. “In the words of the Queen and King themselves: ‘it is with great reluctance that we inform you of our decision to cancel the Silver Bell Ball this year. We believe that this is the right thing to do, as the ongoing magical fritz is a pressing issue that requires our full attention. This is a difficult time for our kingdom, and we sincerely thank you for your patience and understanding.’”

“A magical fritz? What in the Underworld does that even mean?”

“The announcement does not clarify it, my lord.”

Tom heard the groan of table legs against the floor as Dave adjusted his chair. “I know that the Butterfly Kingdom is quite dependent on magic, but enough to cause this level of instability? This is preposterous!”

Admittedly, he didn’t have that much of an understanding of how magic worked, either. Most of the cities across Mewni had close ties to magic, but none of them were quite as clear cut as the Butterfly Kingdom. They had been an incredibly powerful force for centuries. If something weird was happening with magic, Star likely would have been one of the first to notice, since she was in possession of the magic wand.

“There could be something more serious at play here…” The messenger demon’s words trailed off.

“In what sense?” Dave asked.

“Well…” He lowered his voice, and it immediately became more difficult for Tom to pick up on their conversation, much to his frustration. He had to listen incredibly closely in order to make out what was being said, leaned up against the door. “There’s a rumor going around that something happened to the princess.”

Tom swore he could feel his blood run cold.

“What do you mean?” the king asked. “Is she sick?”

“Something like that. People can’t seem to agree on what’s happened to her.”

Dave paused for several moments, likely thinking over the implications of the messenger’s words. “You think that the Butterflies are lying?”

“Not necessarily. Perhaps it is an indirect lie, or a lie by omission. Whatever is going on, it appears the royal family are trying to hide it while they're so vulnerable.”

It had to be impossible. Star must’ve been fine. She was on Earth! Who did this messenger think he was, to present such a baseless claim as an actual reality? No, he’d prove him wrong. He could call her, right?

Of course! Why didn’t I think of that sooner?

Before he could even stop to remind himself that, no, Star still needed space, he shouldn’t bother her, she’ll come back to him when she’s ready to talk again—he was clicking through his contact list and tapping on her displayed nickname. Starship. He’d never brought himself to change it from that.

“Calling Star,” read the text-to-speech voice, before it was cut off by a screen tear and replaced with loud, crackling static and white noise. Startled, he snapped his compact shut immediately to silence it.

“What was that?”

“Huh? I didn’t hear anything…”

“Oh… hmm. Sorry. Perhaps it was nothing.”

He wasn’t listening to them anymore—no, he was panicking. Fear was getting to him, badly. He hated this, he hated feeling scared. This didn’t make any sense! Even if something had happened to her, the call should have gone through. It still should have let him leave a voicemail, or something! Not static and nothing else!

This was strange, this was wrong. Something was wrong, and he had no idea what it was.

“—h well,” he overheard Dave start to speak again. “I suppose it’s not—“

Unable to stand there any longer, Tom threw open the door and came storming in, glaring accusingly between them both. “That’s not good enough!”

“Thomas!” Dave scolded, standing up from his chair. “What have I told you about eavesdropping on my conversations?”

Ignoring him, Tom stared directly at the messenger, his eyes fiery with anger. “What did you say happened to Star?!”

The demon flinched, scrambling for words as he stepped backwards. “I-I’m sorry, Master Tom! I truly wish that I had more information, but I don’t. So long as the Butterfly kingdom keeps its borders closed, I’m not sure we’ll ever get an answer…”

“Then do your job!” He snarled, clenching his fists. “Go out there and find the answer, and don’t come back until you do!”

“Thomas, that’s enough!” Dave stepped between them both. “We don’t know what’s going on, and that’s how it’s going to be for right now. It’s ultimately not our business, to know what’s happening in the personal lives of other royals.”

“It is mine!” Tom hissed. “I care about her! I need to know that she’s okay!”

But no matter how much shouting he did during that confrontation—and it certainly was a lot—he never got an answer he was happy with. No amount of sulking around the castle was going to change that. He wasn’t going to find an answer here on Mewni, not anytime soon.

[plugloveff]

Chapter 7

Meek: 

“Yo, Ant go get the door it should be one of them little nigga’s for the drop” Wayne said blowing smoke out his mouth.

Popping the rubber band on the stack of money I pushed it into the money counter. The amount of money we’ve made since teaming up with Carter in the last month was what we usually made in 6 months.

Puffing on my blunt I continued to count the money just as Ant walked in carrying three duffle bags. Biggs walked in behind him with another two duffle bags in his hand.

I motioned for them to drop the bag in the corner.

“Yo Meek, I heard you locked down fine ass Chanel Wright” Biggs said sitting in the chair across from me.

Dropping the stack of money on the table I looked up at him. “What?”

“I ain’t heard of a nigga locking that down, so I gotta know how is it?” Biggs asked.

“Oh shit” Wayne said chocking on the smoke.

Sitting up in my chair I leaned closer to him. “You trying to ask me how my girl pussy is?” I asked my jaw clenching.

“Hell yeah, I’m trying to know what that pussy like.I mean it’s Chanel Wright, every hood nigga wanna piece of that” Biggs said laughing.

Wayne and Dre shook their head as Biggs continued to dig himself into a deeper whole.

Before he even saw it coming I grabbed a bottle off the table and smashed it into his head. “Don’t you ever in your fucking life talk about my shawty. Do you hear me? Her name don’t even need to be coming off your lips. I’m not the one Biggs and you know that” I barked at him. He laid on the floor holding the back of his head, there was a small gash he was leaking from.

“Meek, damn I’m sorry” Biggs said holding the back of his head.

“Yo Biggs, you really put your foot in your mouth” Dre said

“Yeah nigga, you know this nigga crazy ass fuck” Wayne said.

“Get the fuck outta here man, and next time I see you make sure you act right” I barked out.

Ant helped Biggs up and helped him out of the trap house. I was still fuming and pacing back and forth in the room.

“Yo Meek calm down, my nigga. You should’ve known this shit would happen. You wifed a hood nigga’s dream. You got a trophy on your arm you know the streets gone talk” Wayne said.

But I wasn’t trying to hear none of that. I felt disrespected and it wasn’t sitting right with me.

My phone vibrated in my pocket pulling me from my trance. Looking down at the screen I saw it was Carter.

“Wassup G?” I answered.

“I need y'all to meet me at the warehouse, we need to have a meeting” he said.

“All of us?“

"Yeah, I need talk to y'all tonight” he said.

“We in the middle of getting this week’s drops. We could be there in about an hour” I said.

“Ight, wrap it up and come to the meeting when you done” he said.

“Ight G” I said hanging up.

“Yo we gotta wrap this up, we gotta go to the warehouse after this” I said.

“Everything good?” Dre asked

I shrugged “ he just said he wanna have a meeting with us”

“Ahh shit, that don’t sound good” Dre said.

“I mean everything on our end is good. Payments come in fast and on time and he doubling our drops so we moving shit fast” I said.

“Well I guess we’ll find out in a few” Wayne said.

Nodding my head I sat back down and continued counting the money.

                                                       _______

An hour later we were walking into the warehouse. Greeting the guards, we made our way into the office. Carter, and his right hand man Dee sat at the table.

“Finally y'all made it” Dee said.

“You always so damn dramatic” Wayne said and Dee cracked a smile. Giving them a dap I sat across from Carter with Dre and Wayne on either side of me.

“So what’s going on?” I asked.

“Y'all been moving weight like crazy. I gotta say I’m impressed” Carter said. Dee nodded his head in approval.

“Appreciate it G” I said.

“So with that being said I wanna move y'all up in positions” he said.

“What you mean?” I asked

“Listen I’m turning 52 in a couple months, Dee is almost 53. We can’t be running the dope game for much longer. We wanna get you prepared to take over for us when we retire” Carter said.

“Wait what?"

"You giving us your business?” Wayne asked

“Yeah, we’ve only known each other for a little while. Thats a big move to make” Dre said.

“I know, but I also know everything there is to know about the three of you. We’ve always made money, but adding you guys to our payroll has doubled almost tripled our monthly income. Not only that you guys move smart, the legit business you’re using to clean your money makes it almost impossible to tie anything to you. Plus 10 years in the game and neither of you have so much as a parking ticket shit is impressive. I see Me and Dee in each and every one of you, if I can trust anyone to take over my operation it’s the three of you. It’ll take some time to get you guys fully in position but it’s yours if you guys want it” he said.

“Hell yeah we want it” Wayne said.

Dee smirked and shook his head. Carter smiled but his eyes were fixed on me waiting for my answer.

“So, I’m guessing this is another thing I have to keep from her right?” I asked.

“For now, this information doesn’t leave this room. It’s a quiet transition until everything is in order” he said.

Sighing I nodded my head. Running the Cartel would make me rich beyond my dreams. It was what we were hustling for our entire lives. Carter was putting us in a position to take over Miami.

“What’s the word Meek?” Dre asked.

All eyes were on me, it was still my call at the end of the day. And I knew what my answer was it was a win-win. “Yeah we taking it” I said.

Carter smiled and leaned back in his chair.  "Well, let’s talk business now” he said.

Chanel: 

“So what's the plan for your birthday?” Aria asked.

“I’m honestly not even in the mood to do anything big” I said leaning on the couch.

“Seriously your turning 25 we have to do something” Stephanie said.

“A small get together is honestly all I wanna do. I don’t wanna do the club or nothing plus we have our Christmas trip planned so I don’t need to go on a trip.

“Fine we gone plan you a fire ass party” Cassidy said.

“You guys have like two days, to plan everything” I said

“Girl we got this don’t even worry about it” Aria said.

“Enough about me can we talk about Cassidy and Cash real quick” I said.

“What about me and Cash?” she asked.

“What happened when he dropped you home? Cause you guys were very cozy the other night” Stephanie said.

Cassidy smiled and shook her head. “Nothing he just dropped me home and that’s it. He’s cool” she said.

“So what about Chris?” Steph asked.

Cassidy sighed, and played with the string of her sweatpants.

“Cass what’s going on?” I asked.

“I don’t know how to say this to you guys so you understand where I’m coming from” she said.

“Hey we’re here for you; whatever it is” Stephanie said.

“I’m not in love with Chris. I haven’t been in love with him for the past two years” she said.

“Wait what?” I asked. I could see the pain on my sister’s face and I pulled her into my chest. “Cassidy if you don’t love him why are you staying with him? If you’re not happy?” I asked.

“Because, he doesn’t deserve this he treats me so well and I can’t bring myself to leave him. He’s so sweet. But I just don’t feel the same about him anymore” Cassidy said leaning on my shoulder.

“Cassidy but your suffering, because you’re with someone you don’t love anymore. You don’t deserve that you’re only 23 you deserve to be happy. You’re not a bad person and if you don’t love him don’t force yourself to stay with him” Aria said.

“I just don’t know. I keep thinking that I’ll snap out of this faze"

"It’s not a faze if you’ve been feeling like this for the past two years” Steph said.

“Maybe, you’re right. I just can’t do that to him right now, I’m not ready I’ve been with him for the past 4 years. That’s like my entire adult life I don’t know what to do without him” she said.

“Cass, you do what you’re already doing without him. You live your fucking life. Don’t feel like you can’t be you without him” I said.

“Exactly, plus it looked like you and Cash were getting along and he’s fine af. So there’s always that” Stephanie said.

Cassidy smiled at the mention of Cash’s name. “Cash is honestly the sweetest, we’ve been texting none stop since he dropped me home that night. He makes me feel something I’ve never felt before and that shit is fucking scary” she said.

“I say see how it goes with Cash and leave Chris. Even if nothing happens with Cash, you don’t need to be forcing a relationship you’re not invested in. Shit it’s Miami there’s men everywhere you don’t need to be stuck with one you don’t love” Stephanie said.

“Leave Chris before you start anything with Cash” Aria said.

“Honestly she’s going to leave him anyway so it honestly doesn’t matter” Stephanie replied.

“All right can we change the subject please” Cassidy said getting up from her spot on the couch and walking into the kitchen.

“Fine, but don’t think we’re letting this go” Stephanie said.

“Oh trust me, I know” Cassidy said.

Before I could say anything my phone rung. It was Meek’s custom ringtone.

“Hey baby” I answered.

“Wassup Mama, you busy right now?” he asked

“Not really just hanging out with the girls”  I said.

“I need you to meet me somewhere” he said.

“Umm, ok when and where?"

"Now and I’ll send you the address” he said

“Alright, i’ll see you soon"

"Ight, love you ma"

"Love you too” I said hanging up.

“You leaving?” Cassidy asked.

“Yeah, Meek want’s me to meet him” I said standing up.

“Alright, we need to do some party planning anyway. So that’s good that your leaving” Steph said.

“Please don’t over do it, no more than 15 people cause I'm most likely just going to have it at my penthouse" I said.

"Ummm, maybe" Stephanie said.

Cassidy and Aria both glared at her. And I shrugged my shoulders.

"Anyway I have to go, but please keep it small" I said hugging each of them before I walked out of Aria's house.

                                              ___________________

Thirty minutes later I pulled into the driveway of a multi-million dollar home. I raised my eyebrows in confusion, if I didn't see Meek's Ferrari next to me I would've sworn I was at the wrong address.

Parking my car I grabbed my purse from the passenger's seat and got out of the car. Looking around the house I couldn't ignore how beautiful it was. It wasn't overbearing for such a big house, it was simple but modern but it didn't feel cold or like no one lived here. It was the exact style house I saw myself raising a family in.

Walking up the stairs, I rang the doorbell when I reached the black wooden door.  A few second's later a small middle aged women came to the door.  “Hi, you must be Chanel. I’m Isabella” she said flashing a warm smile.

Returning her smile I nodded in agreement “Hi Isabella, my boyfriend told me to meet him here” I said.

“Yes, yes come in. Ahmeek is in the living room it’s just straight ahead” she said.

“Thank you” I said watching her disappear to the other side of the house. Walking down the hallway I walked into the living room. Meek was standing in front of the glass doors looking out onto the backyard.  

“Baby, what’s going on?” I asked walking over to him.

“What do you think?” He asked

“About what?” I asked.

“The house"

Looking around I noticed how beautifully decorated the interior of the house was.

“It’s beautiful.. Who’s house is it? ” I asked.

“Our’s” Meek replied.

“Wait what?” I asked.

Meek smiled, pulling two set’s of keys from his pocket. He dropped one into my hand. “Happy birthday beautiful” he said.

Staring down at the keys in my hand I could barely form word's I was stunned. “This is our’s?”

“Yes, unless you don’t like it. But I’m pretty sure I got your taste down packed” Meek smiled confidently.

I was at a loss for word’s I didn’t know what to say. I could feel the tears, forming and I tried my best to blink them away but I couldn’t. And as one fell down my cheek Meek brushed it away. Cupping his finger under my chin to force me to look up at him. "Baby, talk to me” he said.

“I-I love it, I love you so much. I don’t know what I did to deserve you but I swear I thank god for you every single day” I mumbled in between sobs.

Grabbing the back of my neck Meek pulled me into his chest. I clung to him as I cried. I wasn’t sad I was happy. Ahmeek was the kind of man you only read about in books. But to experience such a man; to be with him made my heart swell. I couldn’t imagine living a day without him and I hoped to god I never had too.

“You’ve changed me ma, I never thought that I’d be in love or be buying a crib with someone else. But I want it all with you ma, I'mma give you my last name and I'm putting 7 little one's in you. And they're going to look just like you. You are my heart" he said.

Looking up at him through wet lashes. “I am not pushing out 7 kids Ahmeek. And I swear you making me soft" I said laughing.

Meek smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips.

I looked around the house one more time “Does the house come furnished? ” I asked.

“Nah I hired someone to take care of that"

“Wait how long have you had this house?“

"Little over a month, if you don’t like it they can redo it if you want” Meek said

“No, it’s perfect, thank you baby” I said kissing him.

“We move in whenever you’re ready” Meek said.

“We can start moving tomorrow, but right now I think you should show me to our new bedroom” I said.

Licking his lip’s Meek scooped me into his arms and flung me over his shoulder. I squealed as he carried me up the stairs and into our bedroom.

[eryiss]

Fraxus Week 2020: Day 6 - Tarot

Summary: After a crappy post-college first year, Laxus jumped at the opportunity to leave town for a week for a road trip with his friends. He intended it just to be a week away with his friends, but when he meets an unfamiliar stranger, the vacation turns into something much more. [Fraxus Multichapter]

This is the sixth part of my Fraxus Week admissions, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus​. This year I’ve made the prompts into a single multi-chapter fic. You can see all the chapters in the Masterpost linked below. Hope you enjoy.

You can read this on Fanfiction, Archive of our Own, and under the cut. Read the other chapters from this masterlist.

Chapter Six – A Carnival Reading

Bickslow had claimed it was an accident, but Laxus called bullshit. To Laxus, this seemed as though it was Bickslow and Evergreen's way of giving their new relationship their blessing. But Laxus didn't particularly care, because he had woken up sharing a relatively small bed with Freed, arm wrapped around the man's waist while pulling him close, and the man nuzzled into his chest as he slept. And, although Laxus had no intention on trying, he couldn't think of a better thing to wake up to.

With a soft smile, he shuffled slightly and pulled Freed closer. The sleeping man hummed and moved his head, revealing a small smile on his face.

This was rather a charmed life, and Laxus could get used to it.

But that was wishful thinking. They'd had their first sober kiss only a day prior, and it had exhilarated Laxus to a point no other relationships had. After that, they'd spent some time atop the RV's roof, Laxus looking up at the stars while Freed continued his book. That too had been exhilarating in a way Laxus couldn't put into words. After that, they'd eaten with Bickslow and Evergreen, spoken about how they were something of a couple but hadn't yet put a label on it, but they certainly weren't platonic.

Their friends had been supportive of that. They knew both men weren't the most emotionally vulnerable people, it seemed.

And now Laxus had woken up in the small double bed at the back of the RV, with Freed in his arms. Seeing as the man was sleeping softly, Laxus leant down and pressed his lips against the crown of Freed's head, smiling down at him.

"That was adorable," Evergreen's voice cut through the silence, and made Laxus' head snap up. He didn't think she was awake. "I didn't know you had it in you to be sweet."

"Shut up," Laxus groaned, voice a tired croak. He quickly glanced through the rest of the RV and his eyes settled on Bickslow, who was curled up awkwardly in the passenger side seat snoring and drooling onto the pillow he was spooning. He was glad that only Evergreen had seen that, as Bickslow would have gone into an overly dramatic meltdown. Which would have woken Freed up and ended the situation.

Huh. Laxus really meant it when he said he cared more for Freed than his dignity.

"I won't say anything more," Evergreen said with a smile. It was annoyingly kind. "I just think its nice. Besides, after you fell asleep we took loads of pictures," Laxus glared at her, and she laughed. "I'm joking. Well, I think so. I fell asleep before Bix so you might want to check."

"Thanks for the warning," Laxus said softly, perhaps sarcastically.

"Well, I'm only really being nice because I have something else I need to tell you," Evergreen said with a small trace of guilt in her tone. "I found that we're pretty close to a well-reviewed circus carnival, and I mentioned it to Bickslow. As you can guess, we're spending the day there."

"Why d'you need to butter me up for that?" Laxus said, not aware that he was running his hands through Freed's soft hair.

"Well, Bickslow made it pretty clear that we'd be leaving the two of you alone," Evergreen sighed. "Essentially, we're forcing you on your first date. Which might be a tad annoying to your plan of not putting labels on what you are."

Laxus glanced down at the sleeping man in the bed with him, and smiled softly. While they were taking things as they came, it certainly wasn't a bad thing that they would be spending the day together.

"I'm sure we can handle it," Laxus said softly.

"You're a hero," Evergreen laughed quietly. "Well, since you're awake now, I'm going to go for a little morning walk. See you later; oh, and keep up the kisses because it's adorable."

If he weren't wrapped around Freed, he might have thrown the pillow at the woman's retreating figure. Instead he did his best to raise his middle finger at the woman without moving Freed to a point where he would awaken. Evergreen let out a quiet laugh as she left the RV, leaving Laxus as the only person awake in the truck. As he was essentially alone, he looked down at the man wrapped up against him.

Freed really was a man of many faces, all damn appealing. Right now, his contented sleeping expression was pretty damned cute. But the night before, on the roof of the RV, he had been more handsome than any man Laxus had laid eyes on. Even the smug and cocky expression he had given Laxus when challenging him to a race at the waterpark had been hot.

It was really quite unfair that he got to be that attractive in that many ways.

"Urgh," Freed murmured quietly, and Laxus looked down at him with an expression of quiet contentment.

"Morning," He greeted.

"Morning," Freed parroted, eyes fluttering open softly. He smiled when he made eye contact with Laxus. "Well you're rather cuddly, aren't you?" Freed chuckled, but cushioned the tease with a soft kiss against Laxus' jaw.

"People always get shocked by that," Laxus commented quietly. "I've never understood why."

"Oh I fully expected you to enjoy hugging, why else would you have a body like this," Freed chuckled, moving slightly so his head was level with Laxus'. "I just expected that being in the presence of the human embodiment of annoying gossip might make you a little hesitant."

"With another guy, maybe," Laxus said the words before he could think. Was that too far for their relationship?

"You're charming too," Freed replied with a soft chuckle. "I thought that was going to be my thing."

"I gotta keep you on yer toes somehow," Laxus said with a grin. "Speaking of, Ever warned me that Bix's been plotting and apparently they're taking us to some carnival or something, and they're gonna ditch us and basically put us on a date together. You okay with that?"

"Of course," Freed nodded a little, and his nose gently traced Laxus'. "Spending time alone with you is quickly becoming a pastime of mine that I love, so you can safely assume I'll enjoy any dates we might go on. Forced on us or otherwise."

"I'm glad," Laxus smiled, jutting his chin forward so he could press his lips against Freed's in a chaste kiss. It sent a shock through him. "And I'll get to kick your ass at carnival games."

"Rather cocky attitude there, Laxus," Freed chuckled. "Misplaced, too."

"You said something similar when you challenged me to the water park race," Laxus grinned. "And remind me, who's got their lock screen as a picture of them on a waterslide screaming like they're about to piss themself."

"True, but in a carnival, you can't repeatedly push me into water and trip me up just to get your way," Freed said with a good-natured smile.

"You're really underestimating how much I like winning," Laxus grinned. "But if your so confident, we can make a bet."

"You truly are a competitive man, Mr Dreyar. I like it," Freed chuckled. "How about the loser pays for our first real date, and the winner choses what the date is."

"Sounds fun," Laxus smiled, leaning down, and pressing their lips together.

It was a slow and somewhat sloppy kiss, and both men melted into it without any difficulty. Laxus brought up one of his hands to cup Freed's cheek, smiling as the man in his arms pushed further into the embrace. Even in his half-awake state, Laxus felt a thrilling rush of excitement flow through him. Freed really did have some kind of effect on him that he couldn't describe, nor did he care to try. Because that moment was perfect.

Well, it would have been perfect. But then they heard the sound of Bickslow's phone taking a picture, followed by a loud cackling.

~~~

"I feel this is what Bickslow's mind must be like."

At Freed's comment, Laxus let out an undignified snort. The two men were walking side by side in the carnival, looking forward at the large and flashy spectacle before them. Multiple stalls lined a long pathway leading towards a circus tent, of which Bickslow was dragging Evergreen towards. Past the tent were large attractions and rides, each blurting out energetic music. It was somewhat overwhelming, but was helped by the fact the mass crowds had yet to arrive.

"I always thought it'd be a nightclub," Laxus commented, grinning. "A really loud and tacky one."

"I can see that," Freed agreed, and Laxus felt a chill run down his spine as Freed's hand grazed his own. "I haven't been to a carnival like this in years. The town I grew up in used to host one once a year."

"You used to enjoy it?" Laxus asked, looking down at the other man with a smile.

"Not exactly," Freed said with a chuckle. "It only started when I was a teenager, and I deemed myself too educated and adult to enjoy myself. So I mostly spent them in my bedroom reading, and wishing death on the people who turned the music up so loud that I could hear it half a mile away."

"So you were an edgy teenager huh?" Laxus asked with a teasing grin. "You know if you had a goth phase then you have to show me pictures so I can laugh at ya."

"Fortunately, I didn't," Freed said with a smile. "But the same goes for you. If you've any embarrassing childhood photos then it's required I see them."

"That's fair, I guess," Laxus nodded. "But don't think I didn't see what you just did. I asked for goth pics, you asked for embarrassing pics. So if I show you anything embarrassing, you gotta compensate."

"I had hoped you hadn't noticed that" Freed chuckled good naturedly.

The two continued walking down the row of stalls, eyeing the food vendors. It was a little after when they usually ate lunch, and they had decided that they'd get something to eat before playing any of the games or visiting any other attractions. That way there were nothing to distract them from the bet they had made, and neither man could blame their losses on being hungry. Laxus paled a little when Freed suggested that, as feigning weakness from hunger had been an option if he lost at a game he should have won.

After eventually settling on a food vendor with sweet smelling meat wafting from their stall, they had a quick meal and further discussed the rules of their gamble. They would both play every game available in a clockwise pattern, and would work with a points system. In the event of a draw, they would flip a coin.

The first game they played was an archery range, which was relatively simple. Laxus had gone first, claiming he had earned that by winning their race at the water park. He had done okay, managing to hit the target with each of his arrows, though with a wide range of points. He ended up with sixteen over his four arrows, which was a serviceable score. But the look on Freed's face told Laxus that the man was confident that he could win.

He did.

He got eighteen points, and even Laxus could see that there was a lot less luck in Freed's performance. Laxus would have focused on that, had he not been distracted by the confident posture, determined expression and flexing arms as he pulled the string back and took aim.

"That was," Laxus began when Freed returned with a satisfied expression. "Kinda hot, honestly."

"I'm glad you think so," Freed said, and his voice was just slightly deeper than normal. He leant forward so that their faces were almost touching, but stopped just short. "Consider it a consolation prize, as I'm winning."

The smug expression on the man's face drove Laxus almost as crazy as his teasing had. And he could do was let out a muttered 'asshole' before following in his footsteps.

They continued making their way through the games at a leisurely pace, playing each of them and teasing each other as they did so. They fell into a quick pattern where the winner of the individual game would flaunt their victory in a flirtatious and teasing way, and the loser would have to stand there and take it. Laxus felt a rush every time, because the ease at which he could be his competitive self with the other man shocked him. The fact Freed was just as confident in himself was an added bonus.

None of his past attempts at relationships had been like this. In fact, he had been so busy trying not to show the more flawed side of himself that he often forgot to be himself. With Freed, it felt like the inverse of that.

After the archery game, they had moved onto a game where they had a minute to score as many points with a basketball hoop. They had been relatively evenly matched, but Laxus' high school year as a basketball player gave him an edge. He gloated his victory by rolling up his sleeve and flexing his bicep, with a teasing 'these ain't just to look at' aimed at Freed. He didn't miss the other man's smirk at the movement.

Next was a game wherein you threw darts at balloons, and each balloon you popped had a certain score inside of it. They had five darts each, and Laxus managed to win that too. He had wrapped an arm around Freed's shoulders and made a gloating show about how he had won two games in a row, and Freed had not.

The next game had them both aiming water pistols at moving targets. The person who inflated their target's balloon fasted would win, and Freed proved to have better aim. Rather than gloating, he had twisted his water gun to the side so that a cold splash of water hit Laxus on the side.

"I'm gonna get you back for that," Laxus promised, grinning.

"Why," Freed feigned innocence. "I thought you might need some cooling off. Losing that badly got you rather heated."

"So, you thought I looked hot, huh?" Laxus said, crossing his arms.

"No," Freed said, not shying from Laxus' gaze. "I thought you looked warm. You looking hot is a… continuing issue."

Laxus grinned at the compliment, but shunted his own water gun to the side so a stream of water hit the other man. Freed let out a small noise of protest, but laughed it off as the owner of the stall asked them both to move along for the next customers. Laxus wrapped an arm around Freed's shoulders as they walked, and murmured into his ear.

"You looked pretty hot yourself," He said with a grin.

"I'm aware," Freed snarked back, and Laxus laughed with a grinned.

This was new as well, the ease of flirtation. It was ridiculous to think that a day ago, Laxus had been beating himself up for the idea of having some kind of crush on Freed, and now he was openly calling the guy hot in public. It was a testament to how comfortable Freed had managed to make him, Laxus supposed.

As they walked to the next stall, they noticed how different it was. Whereas the others were open and painted with bright colours, this stall was a small purple tent with dark colours and candles surrounding it. A sign beside the door claimed 'Mistress Cana Alberona's Tarot.' Laxus rolled his eyes.

"You don't believe in fortune telling?" Freed asked, apparently having seen the eye movement.

"Nah," Laxus shrugged, then looked down at Freed curiously. "Do you?"

"No, I think it's absurd. The idea that some cards magically know the intricate futures of everyone, or the fact your personality and what you'll do is written on your hand is ridiculous," Laxus chuckled a little at Freed's dismissal of the subject. "For whatever reason, it seems like everyone I know believes in it though."

"I know," Laxus grinned. "Ever once dragged me to a psychic. We got kicked out when I found her 'one of a kind crystal ball' on Amazon for twelve dollars."

"A merciful escape for you, then," Freed smirked.

Laxus agreed, but was then struck with an idea. He reached into his pocket and fished out a coin, flipping it in the air and catching it quickly. He covered it before he or Freed could see which side it had landed on, and looked to the other man with a challenging smile. Freed looked back at him with confusion.

"Heads or tails," Laxus demanded. "You get it right; I'll get a fortune. Get it wrong, you have to get one."

"Okay," Freed nodded. "Heads."

Laxus revealed the coin, and deflated at the sight of a clear head facing upwards. Freed sent him a grin that rivalled Bickslow's for its enjoyment of suffering, and he had the balls to pat the man on the shoulder in a faux comforting way. Laxus looked at the tent with a pained expression; he really couldn't be bothered to deal with the overly dramatic lies of someone with a deck of cards and an inflated sense of self-importance.

"Have fun," Freed taunted, giving him a gentle push towards the tent.

All but trudging towards his destination, Laxus placed the money in the bucket outside and rolled his eyes at the overly mysterious sounding demand that he enter the tent. He walked in, and saw a heavily cushioned room with a low table, and a woman mainly covered by purple scarves sitting at it.

They weren't scared of stereotypes, it seemed.

"Hello, lost one," The woman greeted, still forcing a weird voice. "Take a seat, my child."

Laxus did as he was told, biting his tongue when he realised that he was probably older than the woman performing the reading. He was glad this wasn't a palm reading, having a stranger grope at his hands would be too weird.

"You wish to have your unlived days laid before you?" The woman asked.

"Sure," Laxus said without enthusiasm, not entirely wanting to play along.

"You don't believe in this stuff, do ya," The woman asked suddenly, her voice a lot more normal now. Laxus, momentarily shocked by the sudden change in atmosphere, took a second to reply.

"Not really," Laxus shrugged. "Made a deal I'd come here though."

"That's fair," The woman said, and started to remove the scarves from her face. She was certainly younger than Laxus. "You don't mind do you. This place is hot enough without the candles surrounding it and the scarves. You have no idea how sweaty it gets."

"No, that's fine," Laxus said, at a loss for words when the woman pulled a beer from behind one of the cushions and took a swig from it.

"Okay, so you don't believe in this stuff, so there's no reason to lay it on thick," She said after taking her drink. "But you did pay, and just because you don't believe in something doesn't mean it's not true. So, you wanna do this without all the added on stuff that makes the experience better, get it over and done with?"

"I guess," Laxus frowned. He wasn't entirely sure what was happening.

"Okay," The woman began, picking up her tarot deck and shuffling it like a poker player. "I'm gonna spread these you, you have to pick three. Usually I'd say there's spirit guardians guiding you, which there is but I doubt you'll care about that. Once you've picked them out, we'll turn them over and I'll explain what they mean. First individually, then as a whole."

Laxus nodded in understanding and watched as the woman laid out the cards in a smooth curve. With more care than was probably needed, he looked over the cards before picking three of them at random. Or maybe it wasn't random. Maybe it was a spirit guide.

He almost laughed at the thought.

Watching absently, Laxus saw the woman turn the left most card over, revealing an image of someone in odd clothing standing at the end of a cliff.

"The fool," The woman explained, and Laxus felt slightly offended by it. "Each card has a wide range of interpretations. In its most pure form, it can mean you'll make an ass out of yourself soon," Laxus glared at the woman for that. "But in a more spiritual sense, it speaks of a greater acceptance of the self. You will embrace the fool within you, becoming more of your real self and less burdened by your anxieties. You will find that you don't second guess your actions. You'll be as much a fool as you need to be."

Laxus almost scoffed, and tried to ignore the fact he had been considering just how much his interactions with Freed were devoid of his second-guessing nature. He didn't say anything as the woman turned the next card.

"The sun," She commented. "In its most literal sense, it means brightness is coming to your world. There will be light and growth and nurturing in your future, a new sense of happiness perhaps. But it also means the start of a new cycle. Rebirth if you will. It seems to be that you might be starting a new chapter in your life."

It was annoying, but Laxus found himself wondering if Freed would play a big part in this new chapter. He remained silent as the final card of his choice was flipped over.

"The world," The woman said, and she was smiling now. "This can mean a lot of things. Often it's further a signifier of growth and nature. But it also means that the world is literally open to you. New pathways, new experiences, a new life. That's all coming towards you, and coming soon."

"So, err," Laxus began, embarrassed that he was even entertaining the possibility of this being real. "What do they all mean together."

"I think something big's happening in your life, and pretty soon. It might have already happened. Something life changing. Something that'll open up a whole new world of possibilities, that restarts your life with something new, that allows you to be your true self in a way that you've never been before. Maybe it's an event, maybe it's a revelation or an epiphany. Maybe it's a person. But you're in for some change, and I think it's for the better."

Laxus mind forced him to think of the man waiting outside of the tent for him. The handsome stubborn man that had already had an affect on Laxus that nobody else had. The man who allowed him to have fun, and seemed to energise Laxus in a way he couldn't describe.

Maybe Freed was the change in his life.

He dismissed the thought instantly; this whole this was pointless, and wrong. He bid the woman a goodbye, and started to leave the tent. Even with his surety that fortune telling wasn't real, Laxus couldn't help but notice the similarities of what he'd been told.

Not could he help the smile that those similarities caused.

[eveningstar1516]

Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 10

Rise of the Demon King Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: I gotta Discord server guys! It's primarily Obey Me but other fandoms are welcome as well. It's kinda baby and dead so me and the other members are looking to revive it and we'd love for you to come join us. A roleplay area is included :) https://discord.gg/F3YEmDZCPS Please remember to read and accept the rules once you join for access to all the channels. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously: Satan spent the rest of the night by his brother's side, cleaning his room and slowly, step by step, bringing back how his brother usually looked like. A glowing masterpiece, worthy of both envy and praise. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ CHAPTER 10 - A Strong Bond (1616 words)

I was sitting at Lucifer's desk in his old room. After spending 3 sleepless nights in a row, Simeon helped me move into Luci’s old room which thankfully had some really good blinds to block out the celestial sun. The paperwork seemed as endless as it had in the Devildom only this time, it was the archangels' work. While they did their share and dealt with their department’s issues, the majority of the work still fell on my shoulders. I’m starting to understand why Lucifer felt this way towards paperwork. I put the pen down as I finished up the last of this week’s paperwork. Looking at the time, I realized I’ve been working for the past 9 hours straight. Getting up, I stretched my back and felt my joints popping. I filed the rest of the work and got dressed in something more comfortable. A simple dark blue turtleneck and white jeans. I made my way to the kitchen, having missed dinner, I wanted to get something to nibble on before bed. Upon entering, I found Raphael at the table with a cup of celestial berry tea. Noticing me, he looked up and waved me over.

“What are you still doing up Raph?” “I could ask the same. Here, we have some leftovers.” Raphael got up and got a plate from the fridge placing it in the microwave before getting another mug to pour more tea in. “Thank you” I took the mug with both hands and slowly sipped it. Relishing the warmth flowing down my throat. Taking the plate out of the microwave, Raphael set it in front of me before ruffling my hair and sitting back down. Laughing I retaliated back.

“H-hey! I’m not a child”

“You are compared to us. An overworked tired child that despite being in over their head, is doing an amazing job at keeping us running.”

“Thank you. It is hard though. I have no idea how Lu did it, still does it.”

“Yeah, Sammy would work himself to exhaustion. You actually remind me of him. Your determination to get the work done flawlessly and your dedication. Are you sure you’re not supposed to be an angel?”

“Heh, thanks Raph, but you and I both know I’m only doing this to go back.”

“Do you have to though? You’ve been here for a full millenia now. Don’t you want to stay?”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s lovely up here and you guys are the absolute best, but I don’t belong here. My heart is in the Devildom with the brothers.”

“Why though? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not criticizing, but why would you rather stay in the Devildom than here?”

“I guess the Devildom just grew on me. The Devildom, and the bro’s. I like the way Belphie looks when he’s sleeping peacefully, his head on my lap. I admire the way Beel protects his twin and his brothers, sacrificing everything to make them happy. I envy the way Asmo can change a tense atmosphere into an up beat one effectively dissolving any tension. I find myself thinking about Satan and the late reading nights we’d have and the discussions about cats and our books. I wish I had as much passion as Levi does with his games and shows. Confidently ranting on about them without caring what others think. I’m amazed by Mammon’s love for his family. Everything he sacrifices to make them happy. He even puts himself in the line of fire and would redirect the attention to himself by doing something stupid to distract them from their suffering. I love Lucifer. I love how much he cares for his family. All he sacrifices, all he endures, all the pain he hides from them to keep them happy. To keep us all happy... I miss them.” Tears started pooling as I reminisced about the brothers. Raphael leaned over and pulled me into a shoulder hug.

“I know you do. If it’s any consolation, I’m sure they miss you too. It sounds like you created a strong bond with them. I’m sure you’ll get to see them soon.”

“I hope so. Thanks Raph.”

“Anytime Y/N. I think you should get some rest. Don’t forget we have a-”

“Y/N, Raphael.” Michael walked into the kitchen. He had a look that closely resembled contentment and relief.

“Michael, how can we help you?”

“You should be in bed Raphael. Father wants to see Y/N. Now.” Raphael and I exchanged a look. I finished off my tea and hugged Raphael goodnight before heading to my room to change into something more appropriate for my meeting with God. 5 minutes later and we were on our way to the palace. In the Devildom After they lost Y/N The day they lost Y/N was the hardest day in their life. After they got back to the house, they both went straight to their room, not talking with anyone. Behind the relative safety of a locked door, Belphie crawled into bed and tried to escape reality. Beel sat on his bed and closed his eyes. He didn’t try to sleep, he didn’t go to the kitchen, he didn’t move. He just sat there, the pain numbing him. They stayed like this for a while before Belphie started tossing and turning, his slumber becoming a restless nightmare. Beel got up and changed into something more comfortable. He moved Belphie over and got under the covers, pulling his twin into his chest. Belphie felt himself being pulled into his older brother's embrace and leaned into it, grief evident on both their faces as they both fell into a dreamless sleep.

The days following weren’t much better. Beel wouldn’t eat as much, practically starving himself and he was rarely found. When any of the brothers would go looking for him, they’d either find him in his room or the gym. Belphie wouldn’t wake up at all anymore. He’d go weeks sleeping, if you could call nightmare filled nights sleeping. He wasn’t any better awake either. When he did wake to attend school or fulfill an order from the king, you could practically see the waves of pure wrath and resentment surrounding him, only dispersing when Beel was close by. There were days where neither of them would leave their room, both just staring into space, little words exchanged. Although they didn’t need to. Their shared bond conveyed more than words could express. The pain amplified by this bond. When Belphie was awake, the twins would practically be inseparable. Neither going anywhere without the other.

This went on for a few months. One day after being rudely awakened from a nap, Belphie found himself wandering the house for a quiet place to sleep. Normally, he’d just head up to the attic, however today, he found his feet leading him down to the catacombs, towards Lilith’s, now Y/N’s casket. He doesn’t know what brought him here, but as soon as he saw it, his eyes started watering. He doesn’t know if it’s because of the memories he has assorted with the casket or if it was because Beel was sitting next to it, leaning his back against the side, crying. Sensing Belphie’s presence, Beel opened his eyes and turned his head towards his twin. He cracked a small, tired smile as Belphie moved to sit next to him. This was the first time Belphegor had seen Beelzebub cry since Y/N’s execution. Sitting next to his brother, he leaned into the larger demon letting his own tears flow. Their hands gravitated toward each other as they took hold. For the first time since the trial, they sat together in silence; tears flowing down their cheeks. Eventually, they fell asleep like this, holding each other's hands. It was Levi that found them. The 3rd born having come down to place the gift he got for Y/N from the convention on the casket. He spotted the twins sleeping with tear stained cheeks and left. He came back down a few minutes later with a blanket and a few snacks for when they awoke. Not wanting to disturb them, he set down the Ruri-chan kit and carefully draped the blanket over them. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was envious of the twins connection and devotion to be there for each other. Then he remembered about their connection. He knows the twins can feel what the other is feeling. He realized that they were probably taking this the hardest, their shared connection amplifying the pain. His envy for them left, replaced by something resembling pity. He left them in the catacombs and retreated to his room. The twins awoke at the same time. They took notice of the blanket draped over them and the fruit tray placed next to them. They exchanged a smile as Beel leaned over to grab the tray, offering the fruit to Belphie first. Belphegor grabbed an apple slice and held it towards Beel. Beel opened his mouth accepting the slice and repeated the action with a clementine. They continued like this, feeding each other until the tray was empty. They stayed down in the catacombs for a little while longer, their bond conveying the vows they made to each other. They’d never leave each other's side. Always be there for their other half.

After that day, Beel would take responsibility for waking the youngest whenever he slept for too long and Belphie took responsibility for making sure Beel ate whenever he was awake. From that day forward, you’d never find one twin without the other close by. Their relationship strengthened, one relying on the other. Always being there when needed.

[unloveable-unreachable]

You’re the One My Heart Wants- Alex Morgan x Reader

Word Count: 3,318

Warnings: Swearing

Author: Me

A/N: Hey guys this is a first attempt at an Alex Morgan x Reader multi-chapter story. I hope you like it, and I’ll post chapters as much as I can. 

Chapter 1 

Headlines for the 2019 NWSL Season:

~~Marta leaves the NWSL after two seasons with the Pride, Orlando obtains star forward, Y/L/N, from Portland.~~

~~Portland Thorn fans grieve over the loss of their champion forward.~~

~~What will be the career for Y/F/N Y/L/N be like at Orlando Pride?~~

~~Orlando has high hopes for their new forward, Y/L/N, and hope this change is just what the club needs.~~

Y/N POV

It’s weird, I’ll admit, having your name thrown all over the headlines for the upcoming season. I never imagined leaving Portland, especially this soon. I joined the club right out of my second year of college back in 2014, it was a perfect fit for me. I loved the team, and most of my best friends were on that team. Like Sonny and Lindsey. Don’t get me wrong, I have other friends on the team like Tobin, but only because I’m the only one who will go skateboarding with her (at least that’s what she says, but I know she loves me even if she won’t admit it). 

Being one of the players during the 2015 Women’s World Cup put me in the headlines, especially because I was only 21 and scored in two matches, so I was used to being in the headlines. If not for that then for the 2016 Olympics for sure, yeah that was a hard time for a lot of us. We’ve grown since then though, we put more work in than anyone else I know. We want every win more than the opponent every time we step out on the pitch. This World Cup is where we’ll prove ourselves.

Anyways, yeah leaving Portland was really hard for me. Having to pack up my whole life, along with my Corgi, Luna, and moving to the other side of the country was definitely a struggle, to say the least. One of the only good things about being traded to Orlando is that I get to see my moms. Let’s not confuse that with my actual mom, she’s a whole other story. My ‘moms’ are Ali Krieger and Ashlyn Harris. During my rookie season on the National Team, they took me under their wing, because Ali saw me distance myself from the others and she took it upon herself to take care of me which also means Ash gets drug into it, too. But she doesn’t hate it at all, I’m the kid they wish they could have raised themselves (let’s be honest here, they are the ones who raised me. They just don’t realize it yet). They’re the ones who helped me find my new house, and the ones who helped me (along with Uncle Kyle) move in.

“Yeah mom, I got all of my stuff moved in and unpacked already,” I say to my actual mother. “Okay, I was just making sure. Cause you know I won’t be there to check on you every day and I just want to make sure you have everything ready,” she said in a very uptight tone that I’ve always hated. “Have you met anyone yet? Are there any men you have your eye on?” I nearly broke my head rolling my eyes as hard as I do. Let’s be clear here, I’m gay. I’ve been gay since I was 13, but I can’t tell my family because they wouldn’t understand. Also because if I came out to them I would still be the disappointment of ‘their three girls’, except this time I would be completely disowned. Never to hear from anyone in my family ever again, not like I ever hear from them now but you get what I mean. It’s not something I’m quite ready to dish out yet. “No mom, no guys,” I say trying to end our conversation because I have training in an hour and I knew Ali was going to come pick me up. We say our goodbyes and I run out to meet Ali, who always gets excited to see me like she hasn’t seen me in years. It’s refreshing, to say the least.

Our 2019 season started with a loss to Portland. It was a bittersweet match for me to say the least. At the end of the match Tobin, Sonny, and Lindsey came and gave me hugs until I couldn’t breath. I missed them, and I know that Sonny missed my playlists in the locker room. Lindsey and Sonny practically beg to come stay at my house for a movie night, and of course, I give in without any help from Tobin. The next match was against North Carolina, who has my other best friend on the team, Sammy Mewis. We manage to lose that one too, I know the team is just getting used to me being there but there isn’t any connection between any of us it seems. Sammy also begs to stay at my house because she missed Luna and my movie collection.

Our next match is one of the ones I’ve been waiting for, because playing Utah was always a great match and because I get to see my number one best friend- Kelley O’Hara. When they get to the stadium, I immediately run up to Kelley and jump on her back causing her to fall over, filling the stadium with laughter. “I missed you, Smalls!” I yell at her as we lay on the pitch. “I missed you more, Biggie Smalls!” she shouts back. We have nicknames that we gave each other back in 2015 at the last World Cup. She’s “Smalls” because she’s 5’5” and I’m “Biggie Smalls” because I’m five inches taller than her and built more. She came up with them, and I just go along with it because she’s my best friend and I love her more than anything.

The match ends with Utah winning. We need to get out of this slump or it’s going to be a long season for us. Kelley catches up to me while I walk out of the locker room, “Hey Y/N! Do you wanna go out for drinks tonight?” she asks with a big ass grin on her face. How could I tell her no? “Of course, Kelley. Meet me at my house later and we’ll grab an Uber and stay out as late as you can,” I say back smiling at her. I have to run to catch up with Ali and Ash to get a ride home. “You played good today, moms,” I say as Ash slings her arm around my shoulders. Ali laughs at the mention of ‘moms’ because she knows it’s true but won’t admit it, at least not to me. “You played really well too, kiddo. They just need to get you the ball more, you really work your magic when you get a chance to get a touch on the ball,” Ash says as she ruffles my hair causing me to laugh, as we get in the car to head to our houses. When we pull up to my house, I hop out and say thanks for the ride like I always do. “Hey Y/N, don’t forget I’m coming to get you in the morning for our hike. Don’t sleep in or I’ll make your life hell,” Ali says trying to be all serious but ends up cracking a smile. “I won’t. Love you guys!” I shout from the front door. “Love you, kiddo!” Ash yells from the passenger window.

I hear a knock on the door a few hours later while I’m setting out Luna’s food, and then hear the front door open knowing it’s Kelley. When I look up from the dog food I’m caught a little off guard at the sight of Alex, not in a bad way but in a surprising way. She’s standing next to Kelley watching her play with Luna on the floor. “I can’t believe you haven’t brought Luna to see me more. She loves her Aunt Kelley, and obviously missed me,” Kelley says to me while cradling Luna like a baby. I let out a laugh and say, “We just got moved in like a month ago, and she enjoys her time with Logan. But I’ll be sure to bring her soon, she sure does miss your walks.” I catch Alex looking at the tattoos on my arms, and she sort of blushes at the sight of me catching her. “Hi, Alex,” I say trying to kill the awkwardness in the air. “Hi, Y/N,” she says back shyly. 

Alex and I have a teammate relationship that strictly stays on the pitch. We work really well together when we’re both on the field, but that hasn’t happened till the game tonight and we all know how that one ended. I normally keep to myself or I just stick to either Ash or Ali just because I know they’ll protect me if anything should happen. Alex and I don’t really interact outside the stadium, so tonight’s already starting out awkward. Thanks, Kelley...

Kelley finally sets Luna down asking if we’re ready for drinks, which of course we are. “Yes, please. I gotta buy you a round after your win tonight,” I say to Kelley who just gives me a cheesy grin and two thumbs up. Alex says the Uber should be here already, I tell them to head out while I lock everything up. I end up sitting in the back with Kelley since Alex knows where all the good bars are. 

When we finally reach the street we’ve been looking for, I notice Alex is just out in front of us not really sticking to the group that much. “How’s she doing? If you don’t mind me asking,” Kelley says to me quietly as we follow Alex. “Um, as far as I know, she’s okay. We don’t really talk that much outside of the pitch. Why do you ask?” I answer a little confused by her question. We hear Alex say something about a phone call and that we should go in and she’ll find us. We go in, find a booth and order our drinks. “Okay, so I was asking you because she’s been going through a lot lately and I didn’t know if that was affecting her while she played or whenever she was out of her house,” Kelley says and I look at her confused. She lets out a sigh, “The short story is that she and Servando split up because he didn’t support her life choices, and he told her that he could never love someone like her.” Kelley sips on her beer before continuing, “Their divorce was final right before the start of the season, that’s why she hasn’t been acting like herself lately. She just really needs friends here since I’m not around that much.” I take a long gulp of my drink while I process what she just told me. “Look, I’ll be her friend because she obviously needs someone to talk to. And I can look out for Alex for you and let you know what’s going on,” I say causing her to smile big. “See that’s what I need, both of my best friends being friends,” she says as she clinks our drinks.

By the time Alex finds us, Kelley and I are already four beers in and also several shots in. As she sits down next to Kelley, after ordering her drink, she’s caught in an ‘argument’ between me and Kelley. “I’m just saying you could’ve gotten the ball to the right more, your right foot is your weapon. Use it!” Kelley practically yells at me. “Oh yeah, O’Hara? What about those sloppy passes you were sending to Christen? I know you can do better than that,” I shoot back at her causing her to get all defensive and flustered by my statement. That manages to get a laugh out of Alex, which is great because I don’t think I’ve seen her smile since we left my house. When we all finish our round of drinks, I offer to buy the next round as Kelley jumps up to dance to whatever song is playing in the bar.

Apparently, I’m the only one who can hold their alcohol, because at the end of our night out I’m the one dragging both of them out of two different bars and forcing them into the Uber. “We’re going to Y/N’s house!” I hear Kelley yell from the backseat. I roll my eyes at her and give the poor man my address, and we finally get away from the bar scene for tonight at least. When we get to my place I grab Kelley’s phone from her to send a text to her teammates letting them know where she is and that she’ll be back at the hotel in the morning. And yet again, I have to drag them through my house to the back patio. “Can we pleaseee have more drinks?” they both asked at the same time causing them to laugh (and me as well). Since I know neither of them are leaving my house tonight I give in. I walk over to my bar and grab Kelley the case of beer I bought for tonight, and a bottle of wine for me and Alex to share. 

Kelley, the party animal, plays her music from my outdoor sound system. She jumps up and down to the music around the patio while Alex and I just laugh at our best friend. I sneak inside with Luna, while Alex and Kelley start belting out a 90s hit song that I can’t remember the name to. I blow up the air mattress in the living room before I forget, or before I’m too drunk to remember to. I leave Luna asleep on the air mattress whenever I slip back outside. I take my spot next to Alex who’s listening to Kelley tell a story about a match she played in back when she was at Stanford. I take the opportunity to steal one of Kelley’s (my) beers.

As Kelley laughs at the end of her story, I take full advantage of the situation by recording her for my Instagram story. The music changes, although Kelley doesn’t notice because of her laughing. I recognize the song and start humming to it and begin swaying in my seat to the music, as I’m doing that I notice Alex go to stand up from her spot next to me. She sets the wine bottle down on the table and turns to me. “Do you wanna dance?” Alex manages to ask through drunken slurs with her hand out. I, in turn, let out a drunken laugh and then I take her hand pulling her close as we start dancing side to side, singing to the song. Kelley disappeared at some point but I don’t notice because I’m focused on Alex. Alex starts laughing, but before I realize at what, I focus in on her eyes. They were absolutely mesmerizing, and the way her face looks as she laughs is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. And oh god her laugh, it could cure any sadness. Wait, why am I looking at Alex like this and why is she laughing? “Kelley!” I laugh out, “Go put Luna back to bed before I make you go to bed.” As Kelley hurries back inside, I notice me and Alex are still embraced, but we aren’t dancing anymore. I pull away first, as smoothly as I can in my drunken state. I reach for my drink and sit back down in my spot and finally feel the buzz from all the alcohol I’ve consumed tonight.

After what feels like forever, Kelley comes back out to the patio. Except this time she has on different clothes, my clothes of course. I laugh loudly when I see her, because like I said before I’m five inches taller than her so that makes my t-shirts look like dresses on her. She does a little twirl showing us her whole outfit before going back to drinking her beer. Our night goes on about the same as it started, Kelley is showing off her dance moves, Alex is relaxing more, and I’m just really enjoying their company. 

I look at the clock on the wall to see what time of night it was, knowing that Kelley has to be up in the morning to meet her team and that I have to be up for my hike with Ali and Ash around the same time Kelley has to leave. “Okay,” I slur out, “Kelley has to be up in the morning and Krashlyn will kill me if I’m not up when they get here in the morning.” Kelley and Alex laugh in agreement to the last part. I stand up from the couch, gulp down the last of my beer and snag the practically empty wine bottle from Alex’s grasp.

Like how the rest of the night has gone, except with way more alcohol in our systems, I have to drag both of them back inside my house. The house is filled with drunken giggles whenever I leave them on my couch while I head to the kitchen. I grab the headache meds and bottles of water for everyone before walking back to my drunk friends. “Someone can sleep on the air mattress with Luna and the other person, whoever it is, can sleep with me upstairs, or you can both sleep down here with Luna. I don’t really care either way,” I slur as I say my goodnights while I walk up the stairs to my room. I collapse on my bed when I finally reach my room, as I do my phone dings. I look and, of course, it’s my group message with Sonny, Sammy, and Lindsey. Sonny and Lindsey have been arguing about who misses me the most (of course I know it’s Sonny) and Sammy is talking about how Rose’s dog doesn’t like her as much as Luna does. I remind all three of them that I did just see them all last week and that I’ll see them for National Team training pretty soon. I finally tell them to go to bed, send them all (especially Sonny) my love, and I plug my phone back in.

I decide that I really don’t want my bed to smell like sweat, beer, wine and whatever else Kelley managed to get me to drink in the morning. So I get up and take a hot shower. When I come out of my bathroom I hear a knock on my door, expecting Kelley to ask for more blankets like always. When I open the door I’m welcomed by a very drunk and smiley Alex Morgan. “Coould I borrow some clothess?” she manages to get out between giggles. I just laugh and nod my head to her question. I have to help her walk to my bed because walking is not Drunk Alex’s forte. I sit her down, give her a small smirk and turn to grab clothes for her to wear. I hand her the clothes and help her carefully to the bathroom so she can change. “Call if you need any help,” I say and she just smiles as I close the door. It doesn’t take her too long to come back out of the bathroom. I look up at her as she thanks me and tells me goodnight again before heading back downstairs.

I finally get into bed after a very long day and an even longer night. I set my alarm and shut off my bedside table lamp before turning to my side with my body pillow. As I was just about to fall asleep, I hear a noise outside my door. Confused, I get up out of bed and open my door. And there she is, with her killer smile and stunning blue eyes.

“Can I sleep with you?”

To be Continued

[aurltas]

author interview tag (!)

aaAAAA ty to @backcountry-deltora for tagging me!!! much loveee <333 i haven’t been looped into a tag game for so so long and this is making me feel 10000% better about the fact that i have not written a single fic related thing in MONTHS o)-( but i love to talk about writing and myself so here we go,,

Name: i went by crystal silvera on ffn and here for the longest time so a lot of ppl know me as crystal but my Real(TM) name is dani and my ao3 name is auritas so like take ur pick haha

Fandoms: currently in mxtx hell (im a mdzs main, to the shock of no one) but my og fandoms that i am still very much attached to are deltora quest (the OG og), young wizards, the raven cycle, and yuri on ice

Where you post: ao3 alllll the way babey (but i originated from ffn and still have some stuff up there.......it’s Not Good tho)

Most popular one-shot: oh boy i knew this was gonna be a popular one bc i only wrote like?? rambly reflective thematic pieces(?) before this, my First Attempt At Fluff lmao. even then, But we’re alive (because we bleed) still exceeded my expectations by far in terms of reception, probs bc mdzs was such an up and coming fandom at the time and i posted it right on the crest of that cql wave

Most popular multi-chapter fic: obviously where the light goes, also known as my beloved CHILD !!!! i don’t write multichaps anymore but this is 2 long ass chapters so ig that’s Technically a multichap haha,,, yeah i knew this one was gonna be popular for the same reasons as the previous one + the very intentional tipping of the scale i did here with the balance of fluff and other things. like this is just pure distilled sugar it’s so so fluffy

Favourite story you’ve written so far: oh mannnn i gotta say where the light goes. especially that first chapter, just,, damn. what was i ON ?? its so good!! what the heck!!! quite proud of my metaphor work there, even if balancing prose/poetry feel is very stilted at times . in terms of that balance i think i did a Really good job with and neither did the both of us bc i went back and reread where the light goes for inspiration and i was like “oh god this is DROWNING in metaphors i need to lighten it up a little”

Fic you were nervous to post: i was nervous about where the light goes bc i had such high expectations going in, like i Knew people were craving what i had but i was like, did i do it right?? will this be my breakthrough in the mdzs fandom??? and it sort of was and sort of wasn’t, which,, fair. also SUPER nervous for astriferous bc i had written it all in like, one (1) day and it was for an exchange LMFAOOO (and you can really tell it was all written in one go......it was only when i hit the end that it got Good)

How you choose your titles: when i write fic i’m often scrapbooking a TON of different things together so titles are often just whatever it is i’m already drawing from. there are a few exceptions, like here, then, begins the mending, or and i need nothing more where a phrase popped into my head during the writing/drafting/brainstorming process and i was like OH THAT’S REALLY GOOD. TITLE IT IS

Do you outline?: usually only if it’s plot-driven, like my (incomplete for . Reasons) (ok i was being pestered bc i took it as a prompt and my promptee was. hm) YW multichap equilibrium, for which i outlined EVERYTHING. it was so annoying but i also lowkey liked it because these were MY messy outline notes and i could go as ham as i’d like

Complete: everything that’s posted !! except equilibrium ofc . that’s gonna stay where it is unless by some miracle of nature i get my momentum back for it

In progress: i am working on another jaslief oneshot!!! and for my mdzs folks i have been working on a rly long lesbian songxiao oneshot for a Very long time and it’s . mwah (i showed it to one of my friends and she lost her mind so i think i can say that with confidence)

Coming soon: probably nothing until i’m released from ochem/thesis hell hahahahahahahaaa but if anything were to come out this year it would be the songxiao most likely !

Do you accept prompts?: not after what happened last time !!!! ;o; until i’m done with school altogether, i really need writing to remain something For Me

Upcoming story you’re the most excited to write?: i wanna finish my jaslief SOOOO bad oh my god . i put in so much self-indulgence in there and used what i learned from where the light goes to make it REALLY good n thematic. like don’t get me wrong i am also so excited for my songxiao but i wrote it with some uhhhhh Influence from things i was going through irl and it feels weighty now?? idk i’ll work it out eventually,, i’ve also had oubing fic brewing in my head for literally a year and i REALLY wanna write some pynch in the barns/cabeswater content. let me write about dreamthings and nATURE

Upcoming story you’re most excited about?: bold of u to assume i read multichapters anymore HAHAHA i rotate through the same library of 100 one-shots i have bookmarked now......but back when i did read multichaps i was REALLY into the work of iruutciv + orchids_and_fictional_cities team from yoi, they were absolute LEGENDS and their fic and miles to go before i sleep changed me as a person lmao (i also did read part of their ongoing but monsters are always hungry, darling and i’m actually still in their discord for it but it is SO so intricately crafted and i fell out of the loop and didn’t rly get back in) . currently i follow megafaunatic aka etymologyplayground’s work the most closely for my mxtx fix (my fav from them currently is probably you, asleep and dreaming)

tagging: @lenawin4 and uhhhhhhh anyone else who feels like doing this?? for my life i cannot recall any other writers off the top of my head rn o)-(

[impishnature]

Writer Tag Game!

I was tagged by @infriga <3 thanks~ I love these~~

Author Name: Impishnature, Impish_Nature on AO3 and most people call me Imp. It actually isn’t a pokemon reference or at least I never intended it to be.

Fandom(s) you write for: Gravity Falls, King Falls, Don’t Starve, Good Omens. I’ve written for others, started out on livejournal and ff.net, but these are the ones you’ll find me in now.

Where you post: AO3, tumblr and patreon - I have a load of WIPs there that have never made it here.

Most popular one-shot: Huh. If I were to guess I’d say ‘Stanford’ Pines. That one got a burst of attention after I first wrote it and I’m really glad for it. I wonder if that’s still the case. According to AO3 it seems to be my most popular oneshot! I have no idea how to check on tumblr haha!

Most popular multi-chapter: Brand of a Dreamer! The multichapter/first story I wrote for Gravity Falls and got so much love I had to keep writing. ... I feel like I should be worried that it’s all gone down from there but I like to hope its more that people go back and read it than the opposite ^^ Plus The Light Keeper isn’t that far behind so I must have been doing something alright.

Favorite story you wrote: Hoboi. I feel like this is a struggle because whatever you’re working on is the most fun thing you’re working on- otherwise you wouldn’t keep writing!  I had a lot of fun with Cascading Chaos, that’s whats popped to mind right now at- midnight, I need to sleep. But honestly anything where I work with a friend on a story is so much fun and I’ve had a lot of creative spirals <3 

Story you were nervous to post: Always nervous. Always anxious and shut down social media for a little while afterwards. Though getting better at that. But the one I was probably most worried about was my Ace fic- I was worried that people would tell me it was unrealistic or ‘Ace people don’t act like that’ or general... not niceness about sexuality? It’s scary to put parts of yourself out there. I guess a few of my other vent fics have also worried me but in the heat of the moment they probably didn’t so - Gotta say it was Ace on Deck. And all I can say is that the responses were great and lovely and kind and I honestly hope that I might have helped a few people too by writing it. So the nervousness was worth it for getting it out there.

How do you choose your titles? Heh. A lot of the time they choose themselves.

What do I mean? Mainly that if I’m daydreaming a story and a line pops in and I go ‘that’s it. thats the title’ it usually means I’m going to write it. 

If that doesn’t happen I sit for ages whining about what to call it - that mostly happens with Chapter titles though. 

For instance? Fic I’m writing at the moment? Good Omens with Crowley fighting Heaven and Hell to make sure Aziraphale doesn’t get hurt? - Avenging Angel. It just fit and that was that and oh boy I knew that the fic needed writing.

How many of your stories are complete? Going by AO3 102! I have 102 complete fics on there and 8 WIPS. But we all know there’s more than that really. I’d say there’s at least another 10 that have never made it to the light and that’s not counting old fandoms from years ago... We don’t talk about them though.

In progress: Good Omens one shot! I got hooked on the song ‘The good, the bad and the dirty’ and it fuelled the one shot <3

Coming soon: Hmmm... I mean the WIPs I’ve been meaning to work on is a Victorian Era Good Omens Fic, an Early Hollywood Era Good Omens Fic.... And a werewolf Gravity Falls fic~ So maybe some time soon? Idk writing is hard at the moment.

Upcoming story you’re most excited to write: Again I have to say Avenging Angel/the one I’m working on because if it wasn’t the thing I was most excited to work on then I wouldn’t be working on it!

Top five favorite authors: Ohhhh but there’s so many gooduns Helloearthlings for King Falls AM stories! @babyblueavenger on AO3 for the Mystery Nerds AU <3 Such a good AU @sightkeeper I can’t help it, your remnants fic has fuelled me to write, fight me.  Asbelow AO3 Time has changed me is amazing @apathetic-revenant By The Skin of Your Teeth <3  @infriga Your 1 Step Forward, 20 years back will forever be one of my favs I went for the fics I go back to time and again. ^O^ You all are amazing! 

Tagging: Any of the above who haven’t done it! Any writing friends/mutuals that I’ve chatted to before please go for it and tag me! I wanna know what you all are working on!!!