#part of this being we don’t have a music librarian currently

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

SEEN THE FUCKING HORRORS (had to lead and sightread literally 26 hours after being offered principal second)

[saintship]

Omg ur story liability is amazing!! i'm so sad more people don't write Graves as a sweet southern gentleman (who cares if he's a traitor 😭🙏) so I would love to see a part 2 just to read more of your great characterization of him!! 💕

Thank you so much! Also so fucking true

Yes he betrayed everyone yes he would refuse to let you open your own car door 🫢🫢

I’m also thinking of doing like a small town oneshot once my requests are cleared out 🤭🤭

White flags waving

Graves x fem!reader pt. 2/2

Read pt. 1

Warnings: maybe ooc graves, harassment, healthy communication, graves is sweet, mature content but no secs

Going abruptly from living from shadow to shadow by the skin of their teeth to an upscale event that recognized their branch of military was something no one on the task force was prepared for. Being a private company, it wasn’t as though there was any media or presidents to stick badges on their chest, but Price was told it was an effort to familiarize with other special ops units they could be seeing in the field.

Weeks before the scheduled banquet, half the team was already complaining. Mornings in the common area of their current safehouse were more bicker-ey than usual.

The sun cast beams of light into the living room and across the island counter, where Ghost stood preparing the coffee machine.

“This is ridiculous. They want us to reveal ourselves to whoever these people are voluntarily?”

“They’re like us, Ghost. It’s an event for private companies.”

“You have to admit it’s a perfect plan for an ambush, Gaz.” Spider scored the peel of an orange with a short knife, pushing at the edges.

“Why’s it gotta be like that?” Soap interjected. “Can we not pretend to be normal members of society for one night?”

“You sound like my friends from high school.” Spider threw away the peel, starting on the slices that she’d separated.

“It’s seven in the mornin’ and you’re arguing?” Graves emerged from the hall, eyes bleary with sleep. Spider’s breath nearly hitched at the sight of his uneven bed head, and she ducked her head to focus on her fruit.

“Well, what do you think? Trap or no trap?” Soap questioned.

“No trap. Price ain’t stupid.”

Seemingly beckoned by his name, the captain eased the front door open to return inside. Spider spotted him toss out the end of his cigar.

“Did you—go outside to smoke? Do you finally care about our lungs?” She placed a hand to her chest, her tone flared with drama.

“Needed a break from you lot.” He grumbled, taking a mug offered by Ghost with a nod.

“Where’s Ale?” Spider wondered aloud.

“Shower. That damn music was driving me crazy; s’why I came down here.”

“Ella Fitzgerald is a master of sound!”

Alejandro’s exclamation sounded from down the hall.

“I guess he’s done.” Gaz murmured.

“You don’t like Ella Fitzgerald?” Spider looked at Graves as if he’d socked Price in the jaw. “Do you have brain damage?”

“It would be fine if it wasn’t so loud!”

“Are you a librarian by night or something?” Ghost teased.

“That’s messed up. If you have a secret identity you need to tell me.” Spider finished off her orange, walking over to the hall, but was thrown off by Graves using the hand the others couldn’t see to take her hand for less than a moment before letting it slip past. The others continuing to bicker, she glanced back to see him already watching her, letting the moment linger before returning his eyes to the group with a smile playing in his eyes.

Spider blinked, scolding her rapid heartbeat. She had things to do.

The afternoon’s busy work was mostly inefficient as the team mainly gossiped about the night ahead of them. Everyone was on edge, or planning to drink themselves asleep, or planning to not say a word.

“How are a bunch of special ops agents supposed to small talk? It’s going to be awkward.” Gaz leaned back in his computer chair, looking over at Spider desperately.

“Just create a new identity; that’s what I do at parties.” Spider murmured while still writing something down.

“You’re a piece a’ work, webs.” Graves seemed to be almost talking to himself, grumbling into the folder he held in front of him.

“How has the world not taken the southern out of you yet?” Spider pointed to Graves with her pen. Graves remained stoic, but his eyes shined with amusement.

“That would take a miracle, honey.”

“Alright..” Spider tossed a discarded crumpled file at his head, which he promptly caught, grinning.

Price took it upon himself to go into the nearest town to gather nicer clothes than the ones they’d been recycling for the past months. Spider insisted on going with him, lecturing the man in the car that you most certainly could not tell how a dress fits just by looking at it.

They split up in the mall, Price giving her half of the cash he brought and wandering off to gather tuxes for the boys. Spider found a suitable store, and then a few different dresses. When the first one was zipped, a thought of sending a picture of the dress to Graves floated through her mind. Looking at the dress again; a deep blue high neck with the cutoff just at the knee and a healthy showing of back, she decided to get some photos of each before sending anything.

The next dress was more conforming, a comfortable black fabric that ended at her mid-thigh and thin straps. Then a red flowing piece with lace sleeves running the length of her arms and two shallow slits on either thigh. She photographed them all, hovering over the send button to graves after typing the caption “can’t decide!”

Exhaling quickly, she sent it, quickly tossing her phone on the pile of her clothes and silently panicking. What if his phone was facing up and someone saw? What if they told Price? Shit, shit-

Her phone pinged softly. Spider rushed to see his name light up her phone.

“I’m not a fashion expert, but the blue is nice. Classy.”

Nice. Nice, nice, nice..was that good? Spider’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard before typing.

“I’ll take what i can get

thanks cowboy”

She nearly deleted the ‘cowboy’, but couldn’t resist.

A text from Price telling her to hurry up prompted her to return the black and red dresses to their homes and buy the blue, along with short heels and a few makeup products, then walk back out to the car feeling lighter than air.

Spider made sure to beeline for the bathroom as soon as she returned, nervous for Graves’ reaction to her following his advice. She showered, taking the opportunity to shave her legs and use a scented body wash. It had been a while since she’d showered outside of necessity.

She blowdried and combed her hair, throwing it into a low ponytail to get the dress on with no hair in her eyes. The dress felt different than it did in the dressing room, as expected, but still looked professionally sexy in her mind. After a bout of eye and lip makeup, she put her hair up in a more deliberate updo, pulling a few strands to frame her face. She pulled on the heels, the height low enough to not put her in pain and high enough to add an inch or two of personal confidence. Breathing deeply, she dared to ease the bathroom door open. No one in the hall. She nearly ran to the bedroom she’d slept in to retrieve her clutch, grateful to carry around a semi-classy wallet casually.

She finally made her way out to the living room, a whistle catching her attention. Soap stood adjusting his bow tie, grinning at her blank stare.

“Shut up, Johnny.”

“Dinnae say anything!”

“Mhm.” A smile made its way onto her lips, easing the anxiety rattling around in her ribcage. Ghost and Gaz sat on the couch talking, Gaz in a black dress shirt and grey tie and ghost in a wine-red dress shirt with a dark blazer. The others trickled in slowly, Alejandro performing a short spin that prompted much hollering and whistling.

Finally, Graves emerged from the hall, adorning a crisp white dress shirt, black blazer, and-

“Your tie is blue.” Spider blurted. Not interrupting anyone’s conversation, but catching Graves’ attention.

“Well thank the man upstairs. Didn’t know if you’d go through with it.” He smiled easily, making his way over to her.

“Well, you have good taste.” Spider conceded.

A comfortable pause lingered between them before Graves spoke.

“You look beautiful.”

Spider pushed down the fluttering in her abdomen.

“Thank you. You look very nice, with your suit and..” Spider trailed off when she realized what she was about to say, Graves tilting his head.

“And what, darling?”

Jesus. “And—when you..smile. You-you look nice when you smile.” She managed. His poise seemed to falter a bit, as he fixed his cuff links and shifted his weight.

“Well—thank you.” He murmured. Spider smiled.

“Don’t mention it.”

Please mention it.

“Alright, you lot, time to go!” Price clapped his hands together, everyone filing out and into the car.

The city rolled past, Spider gazing out the window at the skyscrapers and neon signs. The tinted windows hid the true brightness of it all; proven when they stepped out and the dazzling signs all around them became apparent. The venue was on the fourth floor of the building, Price leading everyone to the elevator. It turned out to be much too small to fit all of them at once, and Spider spoke without thinking.

“We can get the one after this.”

Graves, stood next to her, looked over in surprise but didn’t object.

“Meet you there.” Price nodded. As the doors closed, Spider heard Gaz whispering to Soap,

“Are they matching?”

A hush fell over the two soldiers.

“Feels weird. Being out in the open again.” Spider confessed. Graves nodded, sighing in thought.

“You play civilian well enough, though.” He offered.

“Thanks—I think.” Spider returned.

“Listen, I think we should- talk about what happened. At least talk about it.” Graves spoke ever so softly, glancing around him, but Spider’s eyes still widened.

“Not here. Anywhere but here..” She murmured. The doors opened, Spider pulling Graves in unceremoniously. When the doors closed, she spoke again.

“I meant what I said in the med wing. And I like you.”

Graves rocked on his heels. “Straight to the point.”

“I pride myself on it.”

Another silence.

“This won’t work.”

Graves looked over, blinking. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“Our jobs, Graves. It doesn’t work.”

“Who said we gotta parade it around? For all they know, we’re close friends.”

It was true in a way—everyone knew Spider and Graves had become a sort of dynamic since that close call at the warehouse. It was chalked up within the team to be a scare that brought the two together, and if anyone had suspicions of their attraction, they didn’t voice them.

“The rest of the team isn’t what’s dangerous. It’s everyone we’ve ever crossed, and everyone we’ll ever piss off. And I try to hide it, I really fucking do, Graves..” Spider gestured to herself stiffly, her voice wavering. “But they’ll know. They’ll know and- and they’ll use it.”

Graves let a deep breath go through his nose, searching her eyes with his for a moment. He stepped forward, hand just extending to rest by her jaw, when the doors opened, and Spider quickly maneuvered his hand to his side to link his arm with hers and step forward.

“Nice save.” Graves murmured.

The banquet was all gold and high ceilings, rows of food and alcohol running the edges of the room while tables dotted the centre. Swarms of people stood in groups, nursing their drinks and seeming to be unable to relax their shoulders. They found the rest of the team at a table, still keeping to themselves.

“Are the other kids too scary?” Spider chided.

“Very funny.” Ghost muttered.

“Well, personally, I’d love to meet some fresh faces. I’ll be at the bar.” Spider gently removed her arm from Graves’, looking over her shoulder to see him lean forward on the back of Soap’s chair. He’d pushed up his sleeves so his forearms and watch were on display—she shook herself out of the observation.

“Could I get a Negroni, please?” Spider situated herself into a barstool, swiveling back and forth absentmindedly as she studied the people around her. She was surprised to see quite a few attempts of advancements between soldiers—she assumed no one had the nerve. It was just flirting, she conceded.

“One Negroni.” The bartender slid the amber drink over the counter. “Wanna start a tab?”

“Yes, pl-"

“Put it on mine.”

A voice over her shoulder nearly had her flinch—she turned to see a tux-clad man, handsome, but somehow Spider could tell he was arrogant. He had an air to him that said he assumed the best outcome for him would happen naturally.

“How you doin’?” He greeted her, but didn’t meet her eyes, pulling a carton of cigarettes his blazer pocket.

“I’m alright.” Spider sipped her drink as he lit one and took a drag, shifting her weight uncomfortably.

“You with anyone tonight?” He rested on an elbow, leaning into her space.

“Task force 141.” Spider replied shortly.

“Right.. any one of them gotten a piece a’ you?”

Spider didn’t reply.

He grinned with the teeth of a chainsmoker, scoffing.

“What, you never been hit on before? Give me a shot, honey.”

“Are you serious?” Spider’s slight raise in volume made the man finally back up, raising his cigarette to his lips again. “Either find a better pickup artist to model after or never talk to a woman again, alright?”

Suddenly, he grabbed her forearm, yanking it forward to blow the tobacco smoke into her eyes.

“Get off!” She twisted out of his grip, coughing.

“There a problem here, buddy?”

Spider glanced up after sliding out of her stool, seeing Graves appear from the crowd. He stepped forward to size up the man, who got out of his own stool to face him. He lifted the cigarette again, only for Graves to snatch and toss it.

“Yeah, that’s enough of that. I hope you’re listening cause’ I don’t repeat myself. You ever talk to her, or anyone for that matter, like that again, I’m gonna show you the difference—between military..and me.”

Despite Spider’s attraction to Graves’ assertiveness in the moment, the embarrassment won, driving her to speed walk to the bathroom. She felt his footsteps follow her, and he closer the door behind them. Spider faced away, her face in her hands.

“Did he hurt you? Let me-"

“No—no, I’m not hurt, Graves.” Spider’s cheeks burned with shame. She was not helpless. She was not helpless.

“Come on, now, what’s goin’ on?” Graves’ hands were partially extended out to her, and Spider vaguely noticed he’d loosened his tie.

“I just,” Spider sighed deeply, resting her hip against one of the sinks. Graves mirrored her, close but not touching.

“That kind of thing happened to me before I was in the military, and I thought—I don’t know..” Spider looked away, frustrated. “I thought it would be different because I’m different. I’m stronger, smarter.”

Graves nodded, looking to her with those bedroom eyes that nearly erased her rant from her mind.

“And then the fact you helped me, I was so angry at myself for not being able to just handle it; I’m a grown woman.”

Graves moved to stand in front of her, cautiously taking her hand and running a thumb along it when Spider let him.

“I knew you could handle it. You always handle it.” He murmured. “I did what I did out of instinct. I can’t let people like that get away with that shit, but more than than I can’t just watch when it happens to you.”

Spider shook ever head ever so slightly. “How are you this way with me and then when you’re working you just—you just seem so angry?”

Graves inhaled and blinked as if he’d been wounded. “I uh.. I’m not sure. Maybe you poisoned me.” He said it with faux seriousness, raising his eyebrows and pressing his lips into a line.

Spider hummed. “Figured you’d find out somehow.”

A smile pulled at Graves’ features. “I’m glad you bought the blue.” He took the side of her waist in one hand, pulling her into him, while the other traveled up her spine to rest near her neck. The action send pinpricks of electricity all over, and she didn’t care that it was childish.

Suddenly, Spider’s brow furrowed. “Hey, how did Price know to get you the blue?”

Graves looked away for a moment. “When you sent me those photos I uh, I asked him to.”

Spider grinned.

“Shut up.” He grumbled.

“Shut me up yourself.” Spider looped her arms over his shoulders, running her nails through the hair at the back of his head. His eyes fluttered closed when she scratched at his scalp before regaining himself.

“Jesus, baby..” he breathed.

“Kiss me. Please.” Spider returned his words with the same whisper.

“Happy to.”

He leaned down, moving the hand on her waist to hold her jaw and run the pad of his thumb over her cheek. Spider leaned eagerly into him, a soft noise escaping her throat involuntarily.

“I’ve wanted,” she spoke between kisses. “To do this—a long time before the med wing..”

Graves pressed one last long kiss to her lips before pausing. “That right?”

His voice was a low gravel, warming Spider’s body in places she wouldn’t admit.

“I’d watch you work. Drove me crazy.” Spider admitted, earning a grin.

“How cruel of me. And I consider myself polite..” his hands wandered, palming her chest gingerly, exploring the soft flesh of her thighs, hiking the blue fabric higher. Spider took the action as a sign to move her hands down further. She felt his toned stomach through the soft dress shirt, pulling him in to kiss him while she ran her hands up his sides. He sighed into her mouth, and when her nails returned to his scalp with more fire than before, a low groan practically reverberated down her throat. Graves pressed her into the sink gently, deepening the kiss with the hunger shared only between glances before tonight.

Spider broke away to take in his eyes, pupils blown wide, along with his mussed, pale grey hair.

“You’re so gorgeous..”

Graves huffed a laugh. “What?”

“You heard me.” She reached further still, daring to brush her hand along the inside of his thigh. “You make me crazy.”

“Fuck, honey..” he breathed erratically, his hips jerking forward at the sensation. “You tryna’ kill me?”

“I’m a medic, Graves.” Spider breathed. “I make you feel better.”

fin.

[yinandyanglifestyle]

Introductions!

Namaste wonderful souls, families, nature lovers, and dear readers. My name is Somaly. I am from Cambodia. I live in Australia. I value education, personal aspirations, and self-developments. I have enjoyed learning different aspects in my life.

I love to share my experiences, memories, and learning new ways to be creative. I have been working in the education sector almost 15 years. I love growing plants, lifestyle to be self-sustainable and the simple life. I love flowers and animals especially wild birds. Yoga, crystals, and spiritual things also mean to me.

Icie teaches me English, music, art, beauty.

Now, I work on building my own personal brand and expend my passions on creativities. I love to create more flexible and freedom lifestyle in future. You can find me on Facebook Page: (So&Jo better lifestyle, So&Jo Fairy Garden, and So&Jo Khmer-Australia life), YouTube (So&Jo better lifestyle, So&Jo Fairy Garden, and So&Jo Khmer-Australia life), and Blog(So&Jo Khmer-Australia life, and Yin and Yang lifestyle). If you would like to get to know about me, here is my personal blog address: soandjostories.blogspot.com

Kumusta friends! I’m Icie, originally from the Philippines but moved to Australia a long time ago. I value my love of anything that can be done indoors, education (particularly self-studying) and self-development.

I love to share and talk about the things that I love: anime, games (video, board, card, word), binge watching, movies food, art, events, music, languages, fashion, reading, writing stories and trying out new things. I am they/them, atheist (but maybe I love paganism) and have ADD. Plants and animals tether me especially cats, so does Kundalini Yoga.

Now, I am working on staying still at my current job because I have been so many things and I haven’t settled down: call-centre agent, copy writer, professional artisan baker, librarian and now kindy teacher. I don’t have a brand, but I want to help Somaly expand hers.

Somaly teaches me about gardening, mindfulness, sustainability and getting out of my house.

We created Yin and Yang lifestyle in 2024 because it benefits our lives. It’s about enjoying everything around you, be it geared towards feminine things or masculine things. Mindfulness is our main focus and we would like to share our journey to people who are willing to stop, look, and listen. And if you like our journey, we hope it benefits you.

This is our logo because we talk about the yin and yang philosophy. We are (technically) both women and this logo represents our personalities: sometimes, one of us is more feminine than the other and the other one is more masculine and that’s ok. Yin and Yang is in everyone and we spend time together despite our differences. This made us better people as we work together, always aspiring towards the same goal.

Thank you for being part of our community. Thanks for the likes, comments, share, reblog, and follows!

[elenille]

We tried watching Matilda the Musical movie last night.

We got to about 20-30 mins in before we turned it off. 

The 1996 movie was a huge part of my childhood and I adore musicals, so I was very disappointed in this new adaptation I was really looking forward to seeing.

If I had to use a word to describe it, it would be “grating”.

The pacing was horrendous - sudden, jerky jumps from one scene to the next, hurried dialogues, this constant feeling of being in a rush to somewhere that really prevented me from immersing myself in the movie. If it had been my first time seeing the film with no previous knowledge of the source material whatsoever, I think I wouldn’t have been able to remember half the character’s names, much less their backstories or the plot lines. How can you make a movie for CHILDREN without giving them the time to process the information they are receiving through their eyes and ears simultaneously?

The visuals were so, so, so garish and phony. Don’t get me wrong, I love the atmosphere of a colorful, kind of “fake” set (I’m thinking about shows like Pushing Daisies, for instance), but here it just felt like an over-saturated punch to the face. No subtlety whatsoever.

And the worst part was the music for me. There was literally not a catchy tune or line that I can recall. It was so unremarkable and forgettable. The songs all sounded like regular, written lines they forced the children to sing, for some reason. And there were SO MANY of them. Literally a song every couple of minutes! As said at the top, I adore musicals, but it’s not blurting into song every thirty seconds that makes them what they are. If I think back, for instance, to how wonderfully Galavant did it, back in the day, the contrast is even more jarring. So, not only is the pacing dreadfully rushed, not only we get no real introduction to the characters, not only we skip from set to set in the blink of an eye, but now we also have to pay double attention because somebody started singing once again, and if we’re (un)lucky it’s something that has nothing to do with the story or the current situation at all. Oh, and I’m really awfully sorry to say this, but screaming is not singing. Because that’s what the children were doing in my opinion. Screaming. It was nerve-wrecking.

Last of all, I didn’t understand a lot of the choices they made in the movie (in the short time I watched, of course). What was the point of removing Matilda’s brother and adding that librarian lady character (I don’t recall the name), for instance? Matilda’s brother used to be a great point of paragon with which to compare their parents’ behavior, not to mention one of the catalysts to her powers and inner change. The librarian lady was completely pointless to me. I felt they just wanted to point out that Matilda reads in the most obvious way possible, while also omitting completely her hopeful and joyful journey through literature the way the first movie did - “So Matilda’s strong young mind continued to grow, nurtured by the voices of all those authors who had sent their books out into the world like ships on the sea. These books gave Matilda a hopeful and comforting message: You are not alone.” Also, her presence cheapened the later bond between Matilda and Ms. Honey: if she already had a positive, loving adult presence in her life whom she liked and trusted, what could be new in her relationship with Ms. Honey?

Her parents were one of the biggest disappointments. The horrible abuse they put her through was so downplayed and sanitized - it sounded like the one thing they had against her was that she was not a boy. There was zero backstory to why Matilda was the way she was: we got her already fully formed and ready, with no grounds for us to empathize with or relate to her.

And WHERE exactly was her trauma? Her lonely, painful, scarring childhood? Instead of a shy, fearful, humble, mistreated child I saw a brash, bold, entitled, spiteful little kid, who had no qualms punishing her parents and standing up to just about anyone who disagreed with her, her empowerment more one of loud, brutish sauciness than a heartwarming discovery of trust, self-worth and self-confidence.

Anyway, I’m very sorry, but there was just no magic in it for me. It was very Netflix, very 2022. I don’t think I’m gonna finish it anytime soon.

[olderthannetfic]

I know that Michigan State is cataloguing and expanding their zine collection as of this year! It's just one woman who's doing it, but if you DM me I'm happy to pass along her email as I imagine she'd be stoked (unless you've already talked to them or prefer keeping them in-community in which case disregard)

We always love knowing about new things! I’m not the one who does most of the interfacing with universities, so I can’t recall if we’ve talked to Michigan State. I’ll DM you.

***

The big issues that come up a lot are things like:

Many universities have some level of science fiction collection, and they will begrudgingly accept zines about Kirk and Spock boning if they’re particularly historically significant to other parts of SF fandom.

They will not accept the next major development in slash fandom, zines about Starsky & Hutch boning.

Most of the history of slash fandom and a good chunk of gen zines are about crime shows, not science fiction. K/S may be the birthplace, but we didn’t stay there.

--

Many universities already understand the importance of fan culture history as long as it’s music or SF or something else with lots of cis man fans and (by now) mainstream cred.

This does not mean they understand why they should keep physically plain zines of fanfiction.

--

Many universities have an interested librarian, but when that person changes jobs, the administration starts giving off a “Why do we have this collection of dirty old papers taking up space again?” vibe instead of being the safe, long-term home of our carefully collected and donated items.

No collection has been culled that I know of, but this kind of clueless administration makes one nervous.

--

Many universities, very understandably, simply don’t have the staff and space to expand their collections beyond what they currently have. They definitely don’t have the budget to hold onto multiple copies of the same zine.

I can’t fault the librarians here: most of them are fighting against insufficient funding most of the time.

Fans donating mostly have more copies of the same mid-tier zines or even crappy zines nobody really liked the first time around, not primo shit whose historical importance is clear at a glance.

Find me 20 copies of Scales of Justice with its glorious silk-screened cover, and I can dispose of them in 20 seconds.

Find me 20 copies of a Sentinel zine with no cover art and a comb binding, and it’s a very different story.

***

Typically, by the time a fan is talking to us, they’ve already tried the universities and donated the parts of their collection they can, but we’d definitely be interested in helping more universities acquire a collection and, indeed, in passing zines along to individual fans.

Having items dispersed to different locations increases the chances some of them will survive.

Fanfic is only just beginning to be a major topic of cultural studies. I know there are books and there’s buzz, but it’s not something that enough mainstream people who are 60 and in charge of a university budget immediately, instinctively think is important now in 2023.

When the current crop of media studies undergrads is mid-career, things may be different.

I think collections of fanfic zines will be a lot more desirable in 30 years than they are right now. We just need to wait things out. But people are dying now, and their zines won’t be around in 30 years unless we figure out where to put them for the time being.

Our project is less about making an in-community library for all time than it is about bridging this particular gap.

You're doing a what now with the zines? Is it online or an Escapade exclusive thing?

--

Escapade used to have a zine library at the con where you could check out zines to read during the weekend. It hasn't been heavily used in years, and transporting it each year for the con got to be too much for the person in charge of it.

It and other zines that have nowhere to go are now going to find a home in a storage unit. We're going to call it the vaguely yonic moniker of Cassandra's Cavern in honor of all the university libraries that won't listen to us about the need to preserve zines now and not in a few decades when everyone's heirs have thrown them all out.

This is something morgan dawn and elf and I have been cooking up for a while since many of the universities that were taking zines are pretty full, and not everything can be successfully donated or resold. We want to preserve the physical zines themselves. There are also projects to scan things so more fans can read the stories, but this project is about the objects themselves.

[kamoniwa]

 ⟼ a little madness

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: yokai!kuroo/demon!akaashi/human!reader/werewolf!semi

⇢ au: college!au

⇢ summary: you, your friends, and some friends of your friends all get tricked by one tendou satori into visiting an abandoned amusement park for halloween. it turns out it isn’t ghosts you need to worry about, though.

⇥  kinktober masterlist

⇢ warnings: gangbang, noncon to consensual, lots of reluctance, mind break if you squint?, technical temperature play, unprotected sex, creampie, the boys are real gentle in breaking you down

⇢ word count: 11,695

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: don’t really think noncon is my forte but practice makes perfect. is the pairing self-indulgent? fat yes. does this fic make total sense? not really sure. did i have fun writing it? hell yeah. also big thank you to @ishuzoku​ for helping me come up with the flyer bc my og id was garbage lmao.

Furrowing your brows, you looked at Tendo with a mix of exasperation and unadulterated dismay.

“An abandoned amusement park. On Halloween?” Kaori asked before you could, eyebrows disappearing into her bangs. “You cannot be serious, Tendo.”

If he was put off by your reactions, he didn’t show it. If anything, he was probably relishing in it, and said, “Yes, yes I am. It’ll be fun. Come on, do you really just wanna get drunk at a boring house party on Halloween?”

You snorted at that, stirring your coffee as you said, “As opposed to getting murdered at an amusement park? That’s like, straight out of a horror movie, Tendo.”

“You guys are so boring,” he whined, slumping forward across the table. Shirabu grumbled under his breath, glaring at Tendo as he nudged his drink closer to Shirabu’s textbook. “Look, it’ll be so cool! Exploring all the abandoned funhouses and imagine how freaky the haunted houses will be! Just think about it, okay?”

The looks everyone exchanged said they had and had already made up their minds, but you nodded anyway, if for no other reason than to appease him.

A moment later, your alarm went off and you bid them goodbye, walking towards the door with Shirabu for your next lecture. You were sure as shit not going to an abandoned anything this weekend.

Except somehow, against all odds, you were piled up in the back of Konoha’s car, crammed beside someone who had been introduced to you as Akaashi Keiji. He was a friend of Bokuto’s and Konoha’s and, upon hearing about your adventure, asked if he could tag along. If you had to peg him, he was more the librarian type than a ghost hunter type-- soft spoken and well mannered with pretty blue eyes that closed slightly when he smiled.

In the front seat were Konoha-- driving-- and Yachi, currently fighting with the radio and Konoha’s phone. 

In the car behind you was someone named Kuroo-- also a friend of Bokuto and Akaashi-- Kaori, Goshiki, and Semi-- a friend of Shirabu, Goshiki, and Tendo. Kuroo was almost ecstatic to be going, but Semi had seemed like he would rather be doing anything else as he climbed into the passenger seat of Kuroo’s car.

The car in front contained Tendo, Bokuto, Yukie, and-- god bless him-- Shirabu. You were sure he was losing his mind as Tendo guided him towards the location of the amusement park. The details on how exactly this had come about were lost on you, but you vaguely recalled a drunken bet made two nights ago and a video that Tendo refused to share properly, but assured you was proof that the group had agreed to the terms of said bet and then lost. Spectacularly. Supposedly.

“So, how did you meet everyone?” Akaashi asked, turning to look at you. The scenery outside was turning quickly from civilization to wilderness, the trees growing thicker the further you drove until you couldn’t tell one trunk from the next. 

Humming, you rested your chin in your hand, bracing your elbow on the door. This was the worst part of meeting someone new during a trip-- tedious small talk. But you had to start somewhere, so you said, “I met Kaori in one of our classes and ‘Toka-- er, Yachi--” The girl turned around at the sound of her name and waved. “-- is my roommate. They kind of introduced me to everyone else.”

Truth be told, you weren’t sure how they had become your core group of friends. From loud and boisterous Bokuto to sullen and taciturn Shirabu, you adored all of them, but you had had your own group of friends before meeting them. Most of those old friends had faded from sight as you found yourself absorbed in your new ones and, while a part of you felt bad, it was just a part of life.

“What about you?” you asked, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “How do you know them?”

Konoha snickered from the front seat and Akaashi cut him a glare before turning back to you. “I’ve been friends with Konoha, Bo, and Tetsuro since highschool. Kaori and Yukie were our managers,” he said.

Konoha made a turn onto a road who’s name sign had long since fallen off the rusty pole, and you wondered just how far out you had traveled. It didn’t feel like it had been long since you left, but you recognized nothing around you and there was no sign of life. 

“So, everyone but ‘Toka and I were friends in highschool, huh?” You chuckled. “What are the odds?”

Akaashi laughed with you, fiddling with his fingers as he turned back to look out his window. 

The car was now filled with the sound of music, overtaking the silence that fell between the four of you. Konoha was focused on driving and you knew Yachi was more than a little nervous-- you had almost expected her to back out and accept whatever payback Tendo had planned for it afterwards.

“Do any of you guys know anything about this place?” you asked, leaning forward and resting your chin on Yachi’s seat. Through the windshield, you could see Tendo’s shaved head and Bokuto’s spiky locks in the backseat, and worried for poor Shirabu’s sanity. “How did Tendo even know this place existed?”

“It’s an old legend,” Akaashi spoke up softly. 

Both you and Yachi turned to look at him, the latter’s breath hitching because everyone knew when those words were said, the story was going to be unpleasant.

Konoha cursed as he hit a pothole, muttering Tendo’s name under his breath as he righted the car between the faded lane lines, and Akaashi smiled at that before looking back to you.

“I doubt most people have heard of it,” he began, popping his knuckles one at a time. “It’s more of a local thing, really.”

“Well then how do you know about it?” you asked curiously, quirking a brow. You knew Bokuto grew up in Tokyo, which meant Akaashi had as well, and you were well outside of the city limits.

Akaashi smiled, tipping his head to the side and for the first time there was something other than soft indifference in it. “I enjoy these types of places and legends. It’s a hobby, you might say. This particular amusement park was meant to be scary in nature and didn’t stay open for long due to unexplained deaths and disappearances.”

Yachi squeaked, and you cast her a glance before resting your hand on her shoulder. This was probably not the best story for someone as easily scared as she was, but it was too late now, and you knew there was curiosity beneath the fear.

“That sounds way too vague,” you said, lips curling up at the corners. “That’s what everyone says about places like this. It’s not scary.”

Your skepticism was met with laughter and he said, “True. The police at the time pinned the problems on faulty attractions or poor background checks, saying there must have been a serial killer hired without anyone realizing. Sounds to me like they just couldn’t figure out what was causing it.”

You rolled your eyes, nodding along. If the park was as old as Tendo said, it could really have been faulty attractions, but you weren’t buying the serial killer story. It sounded too far-fetched compared to being crushed by an unstable support beam. 

Akaashi continued, voice dropping in what might have been a scary attempt at atmosphere if the sun wasn’t framing his pretty features in a golden glow behind him. “The locals all said that the place was haunted, too many deaths had built up negative energy, trapping the spirits of those killed there. Unable to escape, they grew angry and the deaths continued until authorities labeled the park unsafe and banned any more visitors. And then--”

“What the hell?” Konoha cut him off, hitting the brakes a little harder than necessary.

Akaashi’s seat belt locked and he grunted, rubbing at the new red mark on his neck as he asked, “What’s going on?”

“Dunno,” Konoha replied, putting the car in park. “Sorry about that. Shirabu is getting out of the car.”

The car behind you pulled up as you were getting out, eyes wide as you watched Tendo lay a map out on the trunk of Shirabu’s car.

“We’re lost,” you said, sighing in exasperation.

A tall figure blocked out the sun in front of you and you squinted up into the face of Kuroo. He was giving you a catlike grin, ruffling his messy rooster hair as he said, “Sure seems that way, princess. This place is in the middle of nowhere. I’ll be surprised if we even find it.” He guided you over to the car where the others were gathered, snickering at the look of surprise on your face. “What?”

“You know about this place too?” you asked, glancing at Akaashi on the other side of the car. He cast you a small, closed eyed smile. “Akaashi was telling us about it in the car.”

Kuroo chuckled, raising a brow at his friend. “Yeah, being friends with Akaashi has its share of hazards.”

“Look, I’m pretty sure we’re here,” Tendo said, interrupting your conversation. He was pointing to a small line that looked just like any other on the map, aside from the major roadways and cities. If he was right, you were a decent ways out of the city and your watch read 1:01pm. “If we just follow this road and then this one, it’ll lead us straight past the village and to the park.”

Shirabu looked skeptical, spinning the map around to look at it as well. He wasn’t exactly wrong but how could he really tell? All the smaller roads looked the same and they couldn’t even confirm the name of the road because there was no sign. It had also been ages since they last saw a house or even another car, so asking anyone was out of the question too.

“This is stupid,” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. No one besides Tendo really wanted to be there-- he ignored the fact that Kuroo was just as excited as his weirdo friend to be going and that Akaashi had jumped at the opportunity as well-- and it would be so much easier to just turn around and go to Hinata’s party. “We should just go home before we get lost.”

Tendo frowned at that, sharing a look with Kuroo before saying, “We aren’t lost*. It’s not much further now. Just trust me.”

The others were all inclined to agree with Shirabu, you included, but arguing with Tendo was like arguing with a brick wall-- pointless. He had already tricked you into agreeing to this endeavor and at this point backing out would be both a waste of time and gas. Shirabu was too smart to get lost anyway but, if you were lucky, Tendo was wrong and you wouldn’t be able to find the place at all.

“Do you really think we’ll be able to find it?” Yachi asked once you were safely back in the car. 

Akaashi hummed beside you, but you said, “God I hope not. I was looking forward to Hinata’s party and if we get back quick enough we might still make it.”

Konoha looked at you in the rearview, eyes crinkled as he snickered. “What, are you scared, _____? Afraid the ghosts are gonna get ya?”

Scoffing, you dug through your bag for your phone. A check an hour ago had revealed one bar, but now the words ‘No Service’ blazed across the service banner. “No, I’m not scared. There are just a thousand better things to be doing that than breaking my neck on rusty amusement park rides.”

“Sounds like cowardice to me,” he answered, laughing at you through the mirror. 

Sticking your tongue out at him, you turned back to the window, sighing as the scenery passed by in a blur. Konoha and Akaashi talked a lot about volleyball, Yachi pitching in occasionally. You knew she had managed her highschool volleyball team and knew everyone else in the group to some degree, but most everything sports related went over your head. 

Still, Akaashi made some effort to get to know you, asking about highschool and what classes you were taking. You told him about your major and asked what his was, finding out he was a literature major and constantly busy, explaining why you had never met him before. He, Kuroo, and Semi were the busiest out of all their friends, often skipping out on get togethers in order to study, work, or-- in Semi’s case-- practice with his band.

A little while later, while Yachi and Konoha were having a heated discussion about their favorite subjects, you caught the first glimpse of something besides trees. Turning to look out the windshield, you saw brake lights already lighting up and the car began to slow.

“Well, we found the village, at least,” Tendo said, reading the faded sign displaying the name of the town. “I didn’t expect it to be abandoned too, though.”

Everyone was gathered in the middle of the road, looking down the mainstreet of the village. Windows were busted out and boarded up, paint faded on rotten clapboards, and roofs missing tiles or riddled with holes. The street was littered with potholes and the whole town had an eerie sense of unnatural quiet. Everyone shifted on their heels, slowly making their way back towards the cars without a word and piling in. 

Even Tendo looked unnerved.

The town disappeared behind you but in the distance you could see the towering track of a roller coaster above the treeline. Even from so far away you could see that the paint was faded off of it, the sun filtering through clouds and casting the whole area in shades of grey. To you, it seemed like the forest was darker, the trees packed more closely together, and your heart began to thump in your chest.

“You okay?” Akaashi’s gentle voice asked in your ear. His hand landed on your shoulder, colder than expected, and you shivered underneath his touch. “You look like you’ve already seen a ghost.”

You nodded, looking over to find him giving you a look of amused concern, one corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile. “Just nervous. That town was creepy as hell and it freaked me out a little.”

“Me too!” Yachi squeaked from the front seat, turning around to give you a pleading look. “Don’t you dare leave me, _____.”

Laughter filled the car then and you patted Yachi on the shoulder. “Wouldn’t dream of it, ‘Toka.”

The towering sign for the park appeared up ahead and the car fell silent all over again as brake lights lit up again. Broken glass and gravel littered the parking lot, which was smaller than expected for how big the park looked. 

Everyone seemed to hesitate on getting out of the cars. Tendo was the first, followed by Kuroo, and then Akaashi. Like it was a signal, the rest of you followed, Yachi clinging onto your hand and Kuroo and Akaashi seeming to stand behind you protectively, close enough that you could feel warmth radiating off them.

“Do we really have to go in there?” Goshiki asked, eyeing the ticket booth with disdain. The paint on it, like everything else, was faded, the wood rotten and the window and door busted out. The latter creaked on its hinges, filling the still air with an unsettling noise that mixed with the faint sounds of creaking metal and leaves fluttering in the wind.

Everyone shuffled back towards the cars a little at his question, but Tendo took a step forward, resting his hand on the turnstile. “Since we’re actually here, may as well take a look around.”

Without another moment of hesitation, he hopped over it, peering around with an unusually quiet interest. It was the first time since you had met Tendo that he had nothing to say, his already pale face seemingly devoid of color, making his vibrant, sleepy eyes pop out even more.

Groaning, you, Shirabu, and Goshiki stepped forward, dragging Yachi with you as you climbed over the turnstile as well. You couldn’t just let Tendo wander off into the dangerous park alone. The others followed suit, muffled whispers and conversations floating through the air as they spread out in the area. 

The forest had started taking back over through the concrete, weeds and grass sprouting up through the cracks and pushing the cobblestones up and out of place. Vines of ivy and moss hung from the powerpoles, vendor booths, and some attractions further back, swaying in the gentle breeze. The buildings were dark inside, but through the gloom you could make out mannequins and shelves devoid of merchandise.

The bell dinged on the first one Tendo pushed open-- a souvenir shop. It was empty except for dust and garbage, as were the next few you entered.

Slowly but surely the group made their way further into the park, Yachi clinging onto you the whole time. Akaashi and Kuroo were right behind the two of you, Shirabu and Semi in front, forming a kind of guard while Tendo and Bokuto led the way. Kaori clung to Goshiki, who looked like he was putting on a brave front despite his pink cheeks and the nervousness in his eyes.

For all his grumbling, Shirabu looked interested as he eyed all the buildings and machinery. It was quiet, devoid even of the sound of birdsong or humming bugs, and it unsettled you.

“Oh look, it’s the pirate ship ride!” Bokuto yelled suddenly, breaking the deathly silence.

Everyone jumped, Shirabu hissing at him to shut up while Yukie shrieked, latching onto him. Bokuto had the decency to look abashed but still steered the group towards the derelict platform, testing his weight on the creaky metal stairs on his way up.

The deck of the ship was littered with leaves and dust, the seats worn down and showing stuffing and springs after however many years left in the element. There were signs of rust on the metal and the whole thing shifted slightly to emit a creak.

“Um, Bo, I don’t think that’s safe,” Kuroo called out, grabbing your arm to stop you from following up behind him. 

Tendo and Goshiki were up beside him, examining the boat itself and, before anyone knew it, the former had hopped into it.

“Tendo!” Shirabu called, a trace of panic in his voice. His fingers were wrapped around the railing, paint flakes coming away under his touch hand as he prepared to spring up the stairs, but everyone’s eyes were locked on Tendo’s precarious creep down the middle aisle. “Get out of there before you get hurt, idiot!”

“It’s fine, Shirabu,” he called, now standing at the bow. “It’s kinda cool actually. I can see more of the park from here.”

Bokuto landed with a thump a moment later, a louder creak ringing out than when lanky Tendo had landed, and everyone took a collective breath and held it. 

But as before, it held, and he joined Tendo up by the bow.

“Wow, he’s right!” he called, holding his hand above his eyes like a visor and peering out over the park. It was certainly bigger than he imagined for being in the middle of nowhere. “There’s a house over that way!”

“Probably the haunted house,” Tendo said, straining to see what Bokuto was looking at. In the distance were two stilted, twisted steeples painted in different hues. One was flamboyant and bright, the other dark and dreary, even compared to the state of disrepair of the rest of the park. “I see a funhouse too, I think. Looks pretty freaky. Wanna check ‘em out?”

“Hell yeah,” Bokuto shouted, whipping around to look at the rest of you.

Shirabu looked ready to blow a gasket, and Yachi looked ready to faint, but everyone else looked intrigued. Even you couldn’t help but be a little curious about it, having free range to explore the most interesting rides in the park. Wasn’t it everyone’s dream to be able to see what they were like without restraint? 

The sun was just beginning to fade behind the treeline, turning the clouds a thin shade of orange, but the lure of seeing something interesting had dissolved any real fear.

The two men met Goshiki on the platform and made their way back down to the rest of the group, eyes shining bright with the promise of adventure.

“I told you it wouldn’t be so bad!” Tendo said as if the stunt he just pulled hadn’t taken years off all your lives. Jumping haphazardly onto a decade old, rusted out death trap attraction at an abandoned amusement park hours from the nearest hospital wasn’t going to earn him any genius awards.

On the way towards the supposed attractions, you came across the carousel. Its metal panels were tarnished, the paint worn away from them and the animals, the mirrors grimy with dirt. Vines and ivy climbed up everywhere. The platform shifted when Kuroo stepped onto it, Tendo hot on his heels followed closely by Bokuto. 

“Let’s go see, ‘Toka,” you said, tugging her forward by the hand. Kaori took your other one, squeezing, while Akaashi guided you with a gentle hand on your back.

“Look at this,” someone said, and you turned to find Semi holding a faded paper. “It looks like a poster claiming someone was kidnapping people.”

“How the hell is it still here?” Konoha asked, peering at it around Semi’s arm. “It should have disintegrated a long damn time ago.”

“Dunno,” Semi said with a frown. Trying to see the paper, you were crowded against Semi by Yachi and Kaori and flinched when you realized how hot he was. “It was wedged in the frame of the mirror.”

The whole thing was faded but still legible, due presumably to being tucked into the mirror, and appeared to be a flyer issued by the park itself.

Due to the recent disappearances, park security has been tightened. Please stay aware of your surroundings and report and suspicious activity immediately.

“You were right, Akaashi,” you said, glancing up at the man standing behind you. “They really did think someone was kidnapping people.”

“A lot of the people were never found,” Semi said, folding the sheet up neatly and tucking into his pocket. “It’s not surprising they thought that.”

“Ohhhh, maybe the bodies are still here,” Tendo said, wiggling his fingers over Konoha’s shoulders. “Maybe it was actually the workers kidnapping people and they kept the bodies in a secret place.”

“Like where?” Shirabu asked, giving him an exasperated, skeptical look. It was getting late and they were wasting time just hanging around. He wasn’t particularly thrilled at the idea of being in the park after dark, going to possibly the scariest attraction in the place, but if they were going to do it, they needed to just get it done. “The authorities probably tore this place apart looking for them.”

Tendo shrugged, looking thoughtful. “Maybe they hid them in the haunted house. Maybe there’s a hidden room somewhere that only the workers knew how to open.”

“Could you not?” Yukie asked, slapping Tendo on the arm. “We’re going there, in case you forgot, pea brain. Way to freak us out.”

Yachi was clinging onto Kaori now, staring at Tendo with wide, frightened eyes and he almost looked repentant.

“Or, you know, could be anywhere. The haunted house would be a pretty obvious place to hide it, wouldn’t it?” he said, rubbing the back of his head. Beckoning to Yachi, she went reluctantly, letting Tendo tuck her under his arm. “Don’t worry, Yach. I’ll protect you, ‘kay?”

You and Kaori snickered at the shade of red her face turned, and Shirabu sighed.

“Can we just get going before it gets too late?” he asked, turning and leading the way down the path. The shadows were slowly lengthening, orange mixing with shades of pink and purple in the sky.

Semi fell into step beside you, Yukie on your other side. Goshiki and Konoha were having a conversation about the derelict rollercoaster to the right, and you allowed your attention to drift to it. It was eerie, the faded paint and rusted metal tracks looming like a foreboding beacon above you. Staring the way you were, your foot caught a displaced cobblestone and you went sprawling with a yelp.

Before you could smack the ground, a strong, warm hand wrapped around your upper arm and hauled you back up. It hurt, causing a sharp ache in your shoulder, but it still hurt less than the concrete probably would have. Looking up at your savior, you gave him a half smile.

“Thanks, Semi,” you said, rubbing your shoulder.

But he was frowning at you-- not that that was any different than the look he’d worn all day-- but this one was marred by soft concern. “Are you alright? You’re awfully cold.”

“O-Oh. No, I’m fine. Just got distracted by the coaster,” you said, giggling in embarrassment. “It is a bit chilly though, now that you mention it. I didn’t notice.”

There was a moment's hesitation, then the sound of a zipper being drawn down. A weight settled across your shoulders, surrounding you with an unfamiliar cologne, and your cheeks heated up at the realization that he had given you his jacket.

“That’s okay, Semi, really,” you said, shrugging the jacket off. “It isn’t that bad, and it’s my own fault. I left mine in the car.”

“No worries, _____,” he said, and for the first time you could see a small smile on his face in the dim light. “I’m not cold, so you can take it.”

“Well, thanks, I guess,” you said, pulling it back around your shoulders. It was warm and you smiled when you caught him looking at you. He was wearing a peculiar look, kind but almost possessive, and he licked his lips once before looking forward again.

You shivered, unsure if you were just seeing things. The park had rattled your nerves and Semi was just being nice. You didn’t know him well enough to make a judgement call like that and forced down the uneasiness, taking your place beside him again.

“Smooth move, klutz,” Konoha quipped, nudging your back. Goshiki and Shirabu snickered and you flipped them off over your shoulder, looping your other arm with Yukie.

The steepled spires of the haunted house came into view, beside which stood the funhouse, like Tendo said. Both looked terrifying in the dying light of the sun. Like everything else, the paint was almost gone, shingles missing from the roofs which were adorned with holes.

Without thinking, you reached out and grabbed Semi’s arm, pressing yourself to it. He glanced at you for a moment, a soft smile flitting across his face before looking at Tendo, who was staring between the two buildings.

“I wanna go in the funhouse,” Tendo said, turning back to the rest of the group. Setting his hands on his hips, he looked around at everyone. “Should we go as a group?” Kuroo shifted, pointing his feet towards the haunted house. “I kinda wanna go in there, actually.”

“Well no one should go anywhere alone,” Shirabu said firmly, and everyone nodded in agreement. If someone got hurt, no one would know for ages and then there was the long ride back on top of it.

“So we’ll split up. Everyone pick a house,” Tendo said, clapping his hands. 

Yukie’s arm around yours disappeared and she scurried over to Tendo, looking at you apologetically. Yachi took her place instead, looking for all the world like she was going to collapse from fright, and you gave her a concerned look.

“I’m going wherever you go,” she said, and you raised a brow. 

Before you could answer, Kuroo’s arm slung around your shoulders, looming over Yachi’s tiny form. “It looks like everyone’s decided. Pretty even split. Let’s meet back here in--” He checked his watch. “Two hours? That should be enough time to see everything.”

You opened your mouth to object, but Tendo nodded while Shirabu set the timer on his watch. “Everyone be careful, please. We really can’t afford any injuries.”

Yachi looked up at the dark house looming before you while the other group made their way towards the funhouse. 

You could hear Tendo’s voice echo back, saying, “That’s the reason we have you here, Shirabu. You’re a doctor and all.”

Shirabu said something in return, but it was lost in the distance as you were herded towards the haunted house. The doors hung open, swinging in the breeze and creaking.  It seemed like the house sucked all the warmth from the air the closer you got to it, and you squeezed Semi’s arm in yours.

“Scared, princess?” Kuroo whispered in your ear, raising the hairs on the back of your neck when his warm breath met your cold skin. “You shouldn’t be. We’re here with you.”

The steps leading into it sagged beneath your weight, the wood softer than it should’ve been and it came as no surprise when one broke beneath Semi’s weight. He cursed while you and Yachi pulled back, keeping him from falling over and potentially hurting himself. It took Akaashi and Kuroo both to pull him up out of the hole and a quick check revealed his jeans had protected his leg.

“Are you alright?” you whispered, looking up into Semi’s unamused face. He was wearing a hard scowl, his grip on you iron clad now as he guided you up the steps.

“Sure,” he said, eyes softening when he looked down at you. “Just annoyed.”

Inside, the light from your phones seemed to be swallowed by the darkness. The dust was thick and the air musty and humid. Cobwebs hung from everything, casting long shadows into the darkness beyond the halo of your flashlights.

Yachi yelped, tripping over a rotted track board and would have dragged you down if you weren’t holding onto Semi so tightly. His heat was almost a comfort now, driving away the persistent chill that seemed to emanate from the ramshackle walls. You couldn’t tell where the fabricated deterioration ended and true rot began.

“This way then?” Akaashi asked, leading the way into the first door. It was the kitchen area, set up to look like a butcher shop. A thick layer of dust settled over everything, motes flurrying through the painfully white light from your phones in an eerie dance that made it even harder to see.

Old props lay on the worn countertops, splotches of what was likely-- hopefully-- fake blood a dark black on the faded wood and laminate. Someone had a hand on your back while Akaashi examined a chain hanging from the ceiling, something hanging from the end of it. It made a strange noise when he pushed it, a crackly, grinding noise like it was rusty. It wouldn’t be a surprise, with the humidity as high as it is. 

“That’s a little unsettling,” Kuroo admitted, and you all jumped when a loud crash rang out somewhere further down.

“Now would be the time to leave if we were in a horror movie,” you hinted through gritted teeth, even as Kuroo stepped back out into the hall. He scanned the darkness, his phone hanging by his side, the light pointed towards the floor. “What do you expect to see anyway, genius?”

He turned back to wink before disappearing into the dark and you groaned, straining your eyes to see anything. His light was lost in the gloom and you released Yachi’s arm, taking a step forward. Semi allowed himself to be dragged along with you while Goshiki held Yachi, petting her hair as she whimpered.

Swearing, you and Semi trudged down the hallway, listening for any noises but heard nothing besides the sounds of an old building settling. Your voice caught in your throat when you opened your mouth to call for Kuroo, your ire failing in the face of the oppressive darkness in the heart of the house. Swiping a cobweb off your face, you shined your phone around, lighting up a destroyed living room area, two hallways, and a staircase.

“You don’t think he went upstairs, do you?” Semi whispered, following your line of sight.

Swallowing, you said, “God I fuckin’ hope not. This is so creepy, can’t we just leave him?”

He chuckled against his will, a quiet, rough noise as he tried to stifle it. “‘Fraid not. I don’t wanna deal with the cops.”

Heaving a sigh, you pointed the light down to the floor and found no sign of footprints in the thick dust. Flashing it behind you, you saw your own and Semi’s clearly visible and frowned. “Hey, look.”

Semi scoured the floor, waving his light all around you. “He definitely came this way.”

Nodding, you pointed the light back in front of you, down the hallway, but it was unable to break more than a few inches of darkness. “Okay, now I’m really freaked out. Where is he?”

New light joined your meager one, shuffling footsteps coming to a stop just behind you. 

Akaashi’s hand landed on your shoulder, peering over your head at where you were staring.

“This way,” Semi said after a moment of silence. It was broken only by Yachi’s occasional sniffle and you wondered if you shouldn’t just return to the front door and let Semi and Akaashi handle the rescue. But gentle pressure on your arm and shoulder guided you down, sniffling at the dust before you broke out into a sneeze.

The floor creaked beneath your feet, making the already eerie feeling worse as you crept down the hall. There were faded, torn paintings lining the walls, a few false doors, and windows painted black and boarded up. You couldn’t tell if the paint peeling up the walls was due to age or intent, but it certainly didn’t help settle your unease. 

“Careful,” Semi said suddenly, jerking you sideways into him. The cold hand slid off your shoulder and a light revealed a hole in the middle of the floor, where you had been about to step.

“Thanks,” you breathed, swallowing harshly. The dust was starting to sting your eyes and you repressed another sneeze, rubbing your nose. 

Skirting around the hole, it opened into another room, what appeared to be a library. Overstuffed armchairs littered the room, the shelves lining the walls stacked with what were likely fake books. There was no sign of Kuroo, but Semi led you further into the room carefully.

He wasn’t careful enough, though.

Once second you were clinging to him, the next you heard a crack and then you were experiencing the most curious sensation. Your stomach swooped as the light disappeared, and you realized belatedly that you were falling. Something warm, almost scalding wrapped around you, and your fall stopped short with a grunt of impact.

You lay there stunned for several long moments, head spinning and heart beating hard enough that you could feel it in your ears. The dark was only furthering your disorientation and you only realized you were laying on something when it moved beneath you.

Sitting up, you felt something slump over your shoulders before coughing filled your ears.

“Semi?” you whispered hoarsely. Above you, you registered screaming and looked up only to be blinded by light.

Semi grunted behind you but didn’t move, breathing heavy against your back. From above, you could hear muted conversation before the shrieking stopped.

“_____, Semi, are you both okay?” Akaashi’s concerned voice reached your ringing ears, and you nodded in response.

It took you a moment to realize he probably couldn’t see you, calling up, “Yeah, I think so. Semi--”

“‘M fine,” he yelled, though he sounded winded. 

“Are you sure?” you asked, wrapping a hand around the wrist dangling in front of you. A few feet away lay your phone, face down, the light muted but visible, and you sighed in relief. “You caught me, are you sure*?”

Semi chuckled, a rough noise. “Yeah, I’m sure. Trust me.”

“You guys stay there,” Akaashi commanded, then turned back to Goshiki and Yachi to say something. “I’ll find a way down to you.”

He disappeared and you scrambled forward, snatching your phone up. Moving back to the relative safety of Semi’s presence, you shined it around. 

The basement, you decided upon seeing the array of monster props and torture machines, was perhaps the most terrifying part of the house. It was only heightened by your adrenaline rush, the shadows seeming to jump out to your paranoid mind.

As the adrenaline wore off, you took stock of your extremities. Semi really had cushioned you-- nothing hurt-- and you turned to face him.

In the light, he really did look fine, even his breathing had evened out, and he looked back at you with a smirk. “Told you. I’m tougher than you think.”

“I’m beginning to realize that,” you admitted, getting to your feet. You didn’t let Semi get far, linking your arm with his and clinging to him, much to his amusement.

His eyes adjusted to the dark faster than yours and he located his phone near the base of a rusty filing cabinet. The screen was cracked-- which he cursed-- but it still worked, and he turned the flashlight back on.

“This is creepy as fuck,” he muttered, thumping the model of a skeletal doctor to see the dust swirl. There was a medical table in the center of the room with a light looming over it. He assumed there was supposed to be a body laying on said table and, in the dark, it was a scary thought that it was no longer there. “I hope Akaashi hurries up. I don’t like it here.”

You couldn’t stifle the small giggle, though you covered your mouth in a poor attempt. It was the nerves, you were sure, because as he moved away you held tighter, stumbling after him. He tried one door, the handle stiff enough that you recognized it to be fake. There was a set of metal double doors on the other side of the room and those swung open with an eerie grinding noise, scraping across the concrete floor.

The hallways extended to either direction, cells lining the wall in front of you and you shuddered. “Let’s go, Semi, please,” you begged, tugging him down to the left. It was the same direction that you had come from on the floor above and hoped that it would lead you to a staircase or something*.

Semi went along reluctantly, flashing his light in all the cells you passed. Most were empty, besides the occasional bed or other prop. Some contained chains mounted in the wall and his eyes flashed to you.

The hallway opened up into what may have been a waiting room if most of the furniture hadn’t been utterly destroyed. As you scanned the area, there was a noise from up ahead and you jerked to a stop, scurrying back to Semi’s side. Peeking around him while he stared down the hall, you kept a tight grip on his arm, feeling the muscles flex and tense beneath your hand. A shadow moved in the light and you nearly screamed as Kuroo stepped into view, followed closely by Akaashi.

Neither carried a light and your heart leapt in your throat when you caught a momentary flash of light reflecting off of Kuroo’s eyes before it disappeared.

Still hiding behind Semi, the four of you regarded each other in silence for a moment, before Kuroo chuckled.

“Well, this is certainly convenient, though I didn’t expect you to get involved,” he said, leaning sideways against the wall. He looked as relaxed as usual while Akaashi lurked behind him, staring at you peeking around Semi’s arm. 

He held out a hand to you but you held back, suddenly unsure of Kuroo’s words. With your heart in your throat, you looked up into Semi’s relaxed, impassive face. He made no moves, just watched the other two linger in front of your only escape route.

Then he shrugged.

“Dumb luck.”

The men burst into laughter and you squeaked, taking a step back from Semi. Before you could get anywhere, his hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you forward.

“Easy, kitten. We don’t wanna hurt you,” Kuroo said, stepping further into the room. His eyes lit up once again in the light from your flashlight, mischievous brown turning solid gold. His pupils narrowed and elongated, his smile seeming to become more sharp as he stared down at you.

You breathed in sharply, taking a step back into Semi’s chest. Regardless of whether he was in on whatever they had planned, he was the safest option as opposed to whatever the hell Kuroo was.

The grip on your wrist loosened but came to your shoulders instead, keeping you in place with a warning squeeze. You had already guessed he was tough, given he had taken the full brunt of the impact earlier, but you now suspected he wasn’t human either.

Akaashi came forward last, looking as placid and calm as ever, cold fingertips stroking down your cheek.

You shivered.

None of these men were human, if you had to hazard a guess. Staring up at them, you felt your heart drop.

“W-Where are ‘Toka and Goshiki?” you asked, and were proud that your voice barely cracked. Maybe if you reminded them people would be looking for you, they would back off, allowing you to escape.

Kuroo chuckled, flipping the zipper of your-- Semi’s-- jacket up in what would have been a cute manner under different circumstances. “Keiji here sent them looking for the others in the funhouse, but they’ll never find the doorway down here. Tendo was right, there are lots of hidden doors in this place.”

“What are you? What are you going to-- to d-do to me?” you asked quickly, wrapping your fingers around his wrist as he started to tug the zipper down. You were stalling at best, your heart thumping harshly in your chest. If there was any chance of escape, you couldn’t figure it out. You had no idea where this door was and you had the impression you wouldn’t be able to outrun them anyway.

“I don’t suppose it would hurt to tell you,” he answered, taking a step closer. You tried to shrink away, huddling down into Semi’s oversized jacket, but it only seemed to entice them. “I am a yokai, I assume you know what that is? Akaashi is your run of the mill demon.”

If that offended Akaashi, he didn’t show it, simply widening his smile and blinking slowly. His once serene blue eyes turned pitch black and when he blinked again, they were normal.

“I’m just a werewolf,” Semi said, breathing against your ear. His hands slid down, catching the zipper of his jacket between his fingers and drawing the zipper down slowly.

“W-Wait, please,” you tried, grabbing and tugging at his wrist to no avail. He was far stronger, and you were like a fly in comparison. “Please, can we just go?”

Kuroo cupped your cheek, a moderate temperature compared to the other two, and his smile seemed to soften a fraction. “No, kitten. Keiji and I have been waiting for this for far too long. The wolf probably just likes how you smell.”

You weren’t sure what that meant, but the deep, pointed inhale Semi took against your neck seemed to verify the statement. The jacket fell to the floor with barely a whisper and then your phone was placed face up on a table, beside the men’s, and the combined light filled the room. 

It felt like you couldn’t get enough air as warm hands skimmed down your stomach, stretching the soft fabric of your t-shirt out, before settling on your hips. Lips met your neck, tentative at first, trailing up to your jaw, causing you to shiver.

The heat radiating off of Semi and Kuroo was getting to you, Semi’s soft lips flitting over pleasure spots causing your back to arch. You didn’t want to like it, but when Kuroo’s hands slipped up your shirt and over your ribs, your muscles tensed in unwanted arousal. Your nipples were already peaking inside your bra, the hairs on the back of your neck raising at the first graze of teeth on your skin.

“W-Wa-ait--” you breathed and, for a moment, you thought they really would stop because they both paused.

It was over in a moment, a soft kiss pressed to your other cheek as Kuroo pushed your bra up over your tits. His hands were soft as they cupped the tender flesh, giving gentle squeezes that went straight to your core, as much as you protested. “Not gonna happen, kitten. May as well enjoy it. We’ll take good care of you.”

A new sensation joined the heat surrounding you then, Kuroo moving to the side to allow Akaashi to join in. His hands were cold compared to the other two, one on your side and one cupping your unoccupied breast. The difference was enough to make you gasp, back arching on its own into their touch, and they at least had the decency not to snicker.

“You really do smell good, princess,” Semi whispered in your ear, nipping the lobe. “I can smell everything, even how wet you’re getting for us.”

Craning your neck away from him only opened you up to another smattering of kisses and you hated that he was right. They were getting to you, their gentle touches on your body doing everything right, like they had been your lovers for years rather than men you just met today. It made it harder to think than it already was, mind still racing in a futile effort to formulate some way to escape, but even you could recognize your body giving up.

Your shirt came up and over your head, disappearing somewhere outside of your vision. There was a collective intake from the men in front of you, and Semi groaned over your shoulder.

“I knew you would be so pretty, kitten,” Kuroo cooed, palming one tit again. He relished in the way you twitched when he pinched your nipple, then he cupped both, bouncing and watching them jiggle. “Been watching you all day, we couldn’t wait to get our hands on you.”

Akaashi was the first to lean over, wrapping cool lips around one pert bud, and Kuroo stepped back to watch your teeth sink into your lip to stifle any noises.

“Feel good, princess?” Semi asked, and chuckled when you shook your head. “It will soon, then. We won’t hurt you. Just wanna make you feel good.”

The worst part was, you were beginning to enjoy it. It was so tempting to cave, to just let them have their way with you. They were gentle, surprisingly so, and it was knocking down whatever resistance you had left at an alarming rate.

Semi’s hands were almost scalding against your sides, squeezing and kneading as he suckled at your neck, feeling you whine in your throat. “There you go. Just let go.”

The clasp of your bra came loose, and you weren’t even sure who had done it, before it was slid down your arms and dumped, presumably with your shirt.

There were two sets of lips attached to each nipple, your nails digging into your palms to keep from tangling your fingers in someone’s hair but you were losing the will to fight. Your panties were embarrassingly wet, no matter how much your mind insisted you didn’t like it, and you broke your silence when cold fingers drifted down to undo the button of your jeans.

“No please,” you begged, wiggling your hips in your first real display of resistance. Hands clamped down to still them in an iron grip, and a hand clasped your jaw, forcing you to look Kuroo in the eyes.

“What wrong, kitten? You’ve been so good up til now,” he said, stroking your lower lip with his thumb. There were imprints of your teeth in the skin, and he ached to kiss you, but it would have to wait.

“I-I don’t w-want--” you stuttered, tears burning the corners of your eyes as your zipper was pulled down.

Semi interrupted you then, tilting your head just so that he could kiss the corner of your mouth, smirking. “She’s embarrassed because of how wet she is.” Dropping his voice to barely a whisper, he said, “I can smell you, princess. You want this, don’t deny it.”

Shaking your head feebly, you whined when Semi pressed his lips to your cheek, dangerously close to your lips again. It was enough to distract you from your jeans sliding down your legs, until they pooled at your ankles and Akaashi had to tug your shoes off. Your jeans hit the floor shortly afterwards, the air startlingly cool against your now bare skin only to be covered with warmth as the men caged you in again.

It started with two fleeting touches to your inner thighs, which you tried to stop by squeezing them together only for them to pried apart in an instant. Semi took the opportunity to lay another languid kiss to the corner of your mouth, tongue flicking out against your lips.

For a moment, you turned into it only to jerk away, looking in the opposite direction. You knew what they were trying to do and you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing you beg for something you didn’t want. You wondered briefly where the others were and why you could hear nothing from above, until warm hands cupped your tits again.

You bit down on your lip again when Semi circled your nipples with his thumbs, massaging your breasts as he rolled them between his fingers. It was hard to keep quiet when it felt so good, especially when Kuroo and Akaashi were teasing your inner thighs, so close your aching cunt.

Your hips rocked of their own accord, your mind too preoccupied with the warm touches on your tender nipples and stifling your noises, but all three of your attackers smirked.

“Ask, pretty girl,” Akaashi said, speaking for the first time. 

His voice combined with his fleeting, cold touch against the soaked lips of your cunt caused a gasp to break free, hips rolling up in a jerky manner against your will. Your ears burned when they laughed and your teeth sank into your lip again. It was driving you insane, they were so close but you refused to beg for it.

“Aw, did we upset you, kitten?” Kuroo cooed, placing a wet kiss against your hip. “We’re sorry. You’re just so cute we can’t help it. Come on, ask us. Ask us to touch this pretty little pussy and we’ll make it up to you.”

Another swipe across your clit timed with a tug on your nipples broke the seal a second time.

“S-Semi--”

“There she goes,” Semi whispered, tilting your head around to look at him. Tears were spilling down your cheeks as you looked up at him with wide, resigned eyes. His eyes dropped to your parted lips for a moment and you swallowed, blinking the tears away, but didn’t struggle.

The first kiss was tentative, tongue ghosting between your parted lips to test you for a reaction. You only whined into the kiss, leaning in and he delved into your mouth, tongue lapping at yours as he tasted you.

When he pulled away, you hiccupped, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you closed your eyes.

“Please, just touch me. Fuck me, do whatever. I can’t--” you whispered, thighs aching from how tense you had been for god knew how long. It was too much to hold out, not when you were so wet and aching for it anyway. They knew what they were doing, their gentle teasing and buildup working to break down any fight you had and it had worked flawlessly. 

You melted into Semi as Kuroo lifted one leg over his shoulder. Akaashi left a trail of cool kisses down your inner thigh while Kuroo kissed up the opposite one. You didn’t know whether to tremble or whine, so you did both when his nose bumped your clit, and they chuckled again.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it, pretty girl?” Akaashi asked, and you might have mistook it for affection in another situation. “Just relax.”

As if you had a choice. Hot breathe puffed across your folds, teasing just a little more until you were practically dripping on his lips. Only then did his tongue swipe across your clit, your hips jerking harshly. His hot tongue was replaced with a cold one, the two of them taking turns lapping at your clit at such a languid pace that it was more torturous than not being touched at all.

“Fuck, please, stop teasing,” you cried, voice cracking as your back arched. You were desperate at this point, willing to beg or do whatever they wanted. You weren’t getting out of it without doing so anyway, so you might as well enjoy it. “Kuroo, Akaashi, please.”

A sharp pinch to your nipples made you squeal just before Semi devoured your mouth. You could feel the aggravation in the kiss, the way his teeth clacked against yours and his tongue pressed against yours. You made muffled noises against him, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair.

At the same time, Kuroo latched onto your clit properly, and your eyes almost rolled into the back of your head as you rocked your hips against his feverish suckling. The noises he was making filled the quiet space, grunts and would-be moans that terminated against your clit as he worked to make you cum.

Your head was starting to spin from lack of oxygen and intense pleasure. Kuroo wasn’t giving you an inch and your slick hole fluttered around nothing, until something swirled around your entrance before slipping in.

You forgot about the kiss, Semi’s lips hovering against yours as you came with a cry around cold fingers. The temperature difference between Akaashi’s fingers and Kuroo’s lips was mind numbing, your eyelids flickering, trying to stay open before giving in. You didn’t bother to be quiet, letting your moans bounce off the walls. Maybe it would draw the others to you, and you could still get out of this.

Instead of withdrawing his fingers, Akaashi slipped another one in beside the first, kitten licking your still sensitive clit and listening to you whine for him to “Stop, please, too much.” He only smirked, continuing to lap until you relaxed, though the stream of noises never stopped.

There was a moment of hesitation as Kuroo stood, cocking his head in Semi’s direction. With your attention on your throbbing clit and Akaashi’s almost icy touch, you missed the way Semi beckoned to him. Their lips met briefly, allowing Semi to get a taste of you on his lips before Semi dragged him into a deeper one, tongues meeting in a heated tangle. Both men were hard, Semi grinding his clothed erection against the cheek of your ass, the chafing fabric unnoticed against your soft skin.

You squirmed against him when Akaashi crooked his fingers just right inside you, grazing over the swollen sweet spot inside you again and again until you were on the verge of another orgasm. It seemed like no matter how long his fingers stayed inside you, they never heated up. You weren’t even sure if the cold of his tongue flicking over your clit was pleasurable or not but it was such constant pressure that you hurtled towards your second orgasm. Kuroo was quick to stifle it, delving into your mouth for you to taste what remained of you on his tongue.

You came with a cry, convulsing around Akaashi’s fingers for a second time so hard you became light headed. He continued to pet that spot inside you until you were squirming to get away, tugging roughly at his hair.

Your legs shook when he let you down, only Semi’s strong grip keeping you upright. The sound of belt buckles clanging brought you down quickly, and trepidation set your heart racing again. There was no stopping it, but you found yourself trying to back up anyway. 

“Ah,” Kuroo tutted, taking you from Semi’s arm and kissing the crown of your head like he was comforting you. “Don’t start that. We aren’t going to hurt you, kitten.”

No, they certainly hadn’t yet, and you had no choice but to trust his words. Something hard pressed against your ass, hotter even than the rest of Semi. You instinctively jerked away, pressing into Kuroo only to feel something slip between your thighs.

“Excited, aren’t we?” Kuroo drawled, and you could feel the condescension dripping off of him. Semi pressed to your back again, shielding you from the cold, while Kuroo asked, “How are we gonna take her? Semi, you kinda threw a wrench in things, can’t lie.”

Semi shrugged against your back, letting his cock settle between your thighs. You whined, jerking your hips instinctively away from the heat against your folds, but it only served to make him grind into you.

“I want this sweet cunt,” Semi snarled, cupping your jaw in a tight grip and tilting your head away, baring your throat to him. He licked a stripe from your shoulder to just beneath your ear before kissing the soft skin, and you shivered at the possessiveness in his tone.

“Alright, wolfboy smells a mate,” Kuroo said, rolling his eyes. “Akaashi?”

The last of the trio stepped forward again, skimming his fingers down your cheek before leaning in to steal a kiss. “I’m okay with whatever you want, Kuroo. Just wanna feel her around me.”

There was something dark in his eyes that belied his passive words. He was deferring to Kuroo to get things moving, you were almost sure. Like the rest of him, his cock was cool against your thigh, more like a glass dildo you kept at home than a cock attached to a man.

“That makes things easy then,” Kuroo said, clapping his hands and giving you that mischievous smile. If you didn’t know any better-- you didn’t-- you would say his teeth were a little sharper, the canines more pronounced than before. His eyes certainly hadn’t changed, maintaining that almost glowing golden color this whole time. “Semi, lay on the couch. Keiji, you can take her from behind. I want her mouth.”

He sounded like he was giving out instructions to his employees rather than fucking a very reluctant person, but the other two followed his instructions without question. It was an odd sensation, to be talked about as if you weren’t there, as if you had no say over what was happening to you.

Not that you did.

It wasn’t until you were straddling Semi that you realized something. In addition to being hotter than average, he was larger than average, peeking out from between your folds to drip precum just below his bellybutton. The way your stomach swooped made you nauseous and tears fell down your cheeks all over again.

“What’s wrong, princess?” he asked, wiping them away as best he could. You wouldn’t be fooled by the concern in his tone; he wouldn’t stop anyway.

You turned your face away only to jump when a finger slipped your cunt, cool to the touch, followed by a second, only to be removed a second later. They moved instead to your slick rear entrance, circling and massaging until it gave way, eased by your previous orgasms. You fell forward, bracing yourself over Semi, who held your rocking hips still. Two fingers filled you, the stretch no more than a sting but it was uncomfortable nonetheless when you didn’t want it.

Akaashi’s other hand came down, long fingers wrapping around your throat just beneath your chin, pulling you back up to your knees. “Good girl,” he whispered in your ear before forcing your head around so he could capture your lips.

They parted naturally when his tongue glided across them, allowing him access without thought. You couldn’t place his taste; it was like he’d just eaten ice before kissing you, and you moaned into it.

Kuroo, who until then had been content to watch, groaned and stood from the dilapidated chair he had been lounging in. One hand wrapped around your wrist, moving your hand to wrap around his aching cock, desperate for some kind of relief. Your palm was soft against him, and he spit on it twice for good measure before allowing you to curl your fingers around him again. They did so automatically, squeezing tight and he hissed through gritted teeth, slit pupils narrowing further as he watched Akaashi’s tongue delve into your mouth like he wanted his cock to.

All the while, Semi was forcing you to slide along his shaft, slow, calculated moves designed to drag your clit back and forth against him. He could feel you trembling above him, your hands curled into fists against his chest, hips moving with his hands. You dripped down his cock, covering him in your slick and he almost growled at the heady scent. Unlike the other two, he could smell how bad you wanted it and it was driving him wild.

“Akaashi, hurry up,” he snapped, digging his nails into your soft hips hard enough to leave marks if he wasn’t careful.

Akaashi hummed in disapproval, pulling from your mouth to stare impassively at the werewolf. “I don’t want to hurt her, Semi.”

Yet, he withdrew his fingers and you whined at the loss.

“Finally,” Semi hissed, helping Akaashi lift you up so he could slick his cock up against your cunt before settling against your rear hole. “You go first.”

Your toes curled tight enough to cramp as Akaashi gave you a warning nudge before splitting you open. Your jaw dropped, eyes widening as you stared up into the cobwebbed ceiling, waiting for him to bottom out. Thighs trembling in Semi’s hold, you fell back against Akaashi’s chest as his hips met your ass.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he whispered, leaving cool kisses along your shoulder and neck. Goosebumps were raising up your arms and back, and he would have felt bad if you weren’t squeezing around his cock so tight while Semi positioned himself at your dripping hole.

You couldn’t decide if you really wanted two cocks, weren’t sure if you could even take two, but Semi was stretching you so wide you were crying out broken babbles none of them could make out as he seated you flush against his hips. You twitched above him, fluttered around him, squeezed rhythmically while you tried weakly to get away.

The sensation of fullness was one you had never experienced before. Even just Semi’s cock was more than you had ever taken, let alone Akaashi’s cock in your inexperienced asshole. You blinked rapidly, unable to decide if you liked it or not before a hand wound in your hair and you were pulled down. 

Kuroo’s cock bobbed in your face and your jaw dropped automatically, allowing him to smear precum around your lips. He was more salty than bitter as he slipped into your mouth, stuffing himself as far as he could before you started gagging. Pulling back, he gave you a small reprieve to gasp for air before filling your mouth again. There was no fighting his thrusts, you had to force your throat to relax or choke. A mix of drool and tears spilled down your chin as a thick vein dragged against your tongue, dripping off to the floor. In the back of your foggy mind you were disgusted.

When they felt you relax around Kuroo’s cock, his hips moving in a steady rhythm to fuck your throat, Akaashi and Semi moved. 

You spasmed around Kuroo when Semi lifted you up and dropped you back down, your hips meeting with a wet slap, his cock stifling your scream. Akaashi pulled out then, a little more careful as he stuffed himself back in, but the constant push and pull of their hips soon spread fire through your body. Kuroo was heavy on your tongue, Semi and Akaashi bumping and grinding against each other through the thin wall separating your cunt and ass, Semi’s curls stimulating your throbbing, sensitive clit.

You couldn’t fathom how you were careening towards a third orgasm, but Semi’s cock was so thick he couldn’t help but drag along the swollen, gummy sweet spot inside you. Akaashi’s low, pleasured moans in your ear gave you a vague sense of pride. These gorgeous men wanted you, were moaning for you. 

It was enough to make you forget this wasn’t right.

Kuroo thought you were moaning, your throat vibrating around his cock as he facefucked you with abandon. The tight sleeve of your throat only grew tighter when Akaashi’s hand slipped between your legs to pet your clit and Kuroo grunted.

“Keep that up, kitten, and you’re gonna make me cum,” he said, holding your nose down in his curls for a few seconds just to feel you spasm around him.

Semi and Akaashi felt the benefits of it, both your holes clenching around them as you gagged. Semi took the opportunity to grind deep inside you, rolling his hips up so that he pushed against your cervix.

Your thighs trembled around him, a squeal stifled around Kuroo’s cock as you came hard, jerking in Semi’s hold. He snarled, bouncing you on his cock with abandon as Akaashi slammed into you, spreading your clenching hole without care as he moaned.

Kuroo grunted, pumping into your mouth a few more times before pressing your nose into his pelvis and cumming, his lips parted in an ‘o’ and his head tipping back. You had no choice but to swallow until he pulled out and spilled the remnant all over your face, smirking as it mixed with your tears and drool to drip off your chin.

Semi’s back arched off the couch, strong hands pulling you down to sit flush with his hips as he spilled inside you. Your eyes grew wide at the intense heat filling your womb, the warmth rushing up through you at the same time Akaashi came in your ass. Goosebumps erupted across your skin as his cum offset the heat of Semi’s, and your vision swam for a moment from overstimulation.

Semi caught you as you collapsed forward, cradling you to his chest regardless of the mess, petting your hair. 

Akaashi slipped out of you, sharing a small smirk with Kuroo as he sought out your clothes.

“Give me my shirt,” Semi said, catching it from the air when Akaashi threw it. He forced you to sit up, watching you sway with a twisted sense of pride, and wiped the mess from your face. Akaashi and Kuroo took you from there, helping you to dress while you leaned against them, unable to keep from snickering at the state they’d left you in.

“Can you walk, kitten?” Kuroo asked, setting his hands on your shoulders. “Or do you need someone to carry you?”

“I-I can w-walk,” you stuttered, throat raspy. You frowned and grabbed it, swallowing with a wince.

“Good girl,” Kuroo said, dropping a kiss on your lips and smirked when you leaned after him as he pulled away. “We don’t need to worry about you telling anyone, do we?”

Shaking your head, you allowed Semi to wrap an arm around your shoulders, keeping you close to bathe in his warmth as Kuroo led the way up the hidden stairs a little ways down the hall they had been blocking earlier. At the top of the stairs, you could hear voices calling your names and perked up, trying to follow the echoes in the darkness.

“This way,” Kuroo said, leading the way though there wasn’t a speck of light in sight. Your own phone was tucked safely in the pocket of Semi’s jacket, which he had taken back. “Keiji, give me your phone. Appearances.”

Right, couldn’t let the humans know.

Everyone crowded around you, throwing questions all at once, until Shirabu lost his temper. He insisted on looking you and Semi over, just to determine for sure nothing was the matter. 

He seemed a little concerned by how out of it you were, and asked if you hit your head.

Three sets of eyes landed on you, all carrying a different weight as they waited for you to speak.

“Just tired, Shirabu,” you murmured, hiding your face in Semi’s side. “It took ages for them to find us. Can we go home now?”

The tension eased, though you kept your face hidden, allowing him to guide you blindly down the hallway.

It was even colder outside than earlier, and Kuroo took over the spot on your other side, gently shooing Yachi towards the other. She had insisted on keeping you company, watching you with wide, worried eyes while Akaashi and Kuroo whispered together behind her.

Even now, she watched the way the three men hovered around you with curious concern. They treated you like a precious object-- or a possession that needed to be protected.

You nodded in response to something Kuroo said, trying-- if possible-- to curl even closer into Semi. Akaashi hovered in the background, pretty face as impassive as ever until he caught Yachi looking at him.

His lips curled up in a smile, his face softening ever so slightly, and she relaxed. Whatever had happened to you down there, it seemed to spark something in the three men.

Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been that bad.

[clarionglass]

lads. lads oh my god. once again i am caught up in magnus archives-esque bullshit in my day-to-day

so i don’t think i’ve put this anywhere on the internet but i’ve just (read: within the last couple of months) started a new job, it’s like a day a week and v flexible so it fits v v nicely with all my teaching

so i’m working with an orchestra, like, not the full-time state orchestra but the next rung down, all v v v professional musicians and staff it’s just not full time. unfortch this isn’t a performance job but at least i’m in the office a bunch so if they ever need another flute they can just look to the library room and hello! there i am! anyway yeah it’s in the library. i originally applied for the librarian job, didn’t get it, but a mate who works there saw my cv in the pile and sent me a message like “hey u want work?” to which i replied “yes of course,” proving once again that it’s not what you know it’s who you know

technically my job title is “library processing assistant”. basically i go through the many, many, many drawers of the filing cabinets in the music library, and go through the score folders, updating the catalogue to make sure what’s on there is correct for what we have (often it’s not and we’ve got parts missing), standardising the catalogue, and labelling the parts so that if anything goes missing again, we can more easily track it down. i.e. if you know there should be 4 viola parts and after a concert only 3 come back, you can ask all the violas if they gave their music back. rather than just being like “did we have 3 parts or 4? :shrug emoji:” so in other words, i’m an archival assistant. literally, i am the martin/tim/sasha of my workplace. which is good and fine! i had a brief chuckle at being a tma nerd and getting an archival job, then just got on with it. it’s been a good job! and actually a Lot less stressful than teaching lately! so yay!

fast forward to yesterday, when the email for the work christmas party comes in. it’s going to be “an activity and dinner”. and the email had the phrase, and this is a direct copy-paste here:

“...please let me know ASAP if you have any issues with claustrophobia, fear of heights, not able to climb stairs, if you fall outside of the weight range of 40-140kgs, are unable to walk for more than 2km...”

which of course makes me wonder what the Fuck this activity is going to involve. and gets all my tma senses going buckwild, bc that’s the buried, the vast, and possibly the hunt right there. add dinner, that might get the flesh into it too. at my work christmas party. ya know, the work where i work as an archival assistant. naturally i come out of the poky lil library room to ask what the hell is up with that list, and boss’s pa assures me “it won’t be life-threatening” (cheers babe, that thought actually hadn’t crossed my mind yet), but “i’m not sure how much of a surprise [boss] wants it to be” i tell her that it’s fine to be a surprise, it’s just an intriguing list, then go back to the library and attempt to get on with my work. i do not see my boss for the rest of the day.

now, a little bit of info about my boss: i’ve found her great, and i love what she’s doing with classical music in my state! good points all round! and i’ve always got on with her perfectly fine, i think i’m a fairly easygoing person, but when i first told another muso friend i got a job there they said “oh, hm. what’s it like working with her? i’ve heard she can be a bit interesting to work with, i know there’s been quite a bit of staff turnover there” which doesn’t tally with my experience at all! but in the current context... also, i should probably note. she’s english, with very grey eyes.

basically i may very well die at my work christmas party? idk lads but wish me luck

[galactic-pirates]

@purlturtle​ thanks for the tag! :)

Four ships:

#1 James Watson / John Druitt / Helen Magnus (Sanctuary)

my current obsession

I have zero choice with these guys. I didn’t choose to ship them, they just grabbed me and haven’t let go yet. It’s just tragic. The whole quasi-immortal thing, the century they spent apart, time travel, being possessed by a homicidal energy parasite, what’s a little murder between friends? They have everything.

#2 Myka Bering / HG Wells (Warehouse 13)

again the moment I saw them I was gone. #ships of pain seems to be a theme as do the fact that Victorians out of time make for the best ships bwahaha.

#3 Artie Nielsen / James MacPherson (Warehouse 13)

This is an odd one as I rewatched Warehouse 13 several times and then one day I saw this scene ^^ and my mind went into overdrive and it hasn’t left since. They are a big part of the 60k (and counting) fanfic I’m writing atm. Also #rare pair seems to be a thing for me atm.

This completes the trifecta of ships of pain and betrayal.

#4 Eve Baird / Flynn Carsen (The Librarians)

This is the “non-hurty” ship! Haha. Now I could have put a lot of things for #4 but I thought I’d stick with ships I’m currently writing. I mean don’t get me wrong there’s some angst to deal with here too but generally much less than the epic betrayals in the ‘ships of pain’ above.

First ever ship:

Jack Malone / Samantha Spade (Without a Trace)

Not something I’d go for now but twenty years ago... it was one of those ships that should have been a cliché but wasn’t. I quit this show pretty early (only watched season 1-3). I think I got grabbed because it was subtle. The actors did a lot with body language and the odd line here or there.

Last song:

Ok iTunes is currently playing ‘Nothing Lasts Forever’ by Maroon 5 (I always have music playing).

Last film:

National Treasure 2: Book of Secrets

I’m a bit of a sucker for archaeological/treasure hunting thrillers to be honest. Oh wow actually the more I think about it... yeah hunting for historical artifacts is a major theme. What’s not to love? There’s treasure and there’s history and there’s mystery and adventure. Oh that’s not in reference to the movie btw. I’m not saying this particular movie is all that great, it’s the genre I enjoy.

Currently reading:

Kingdoms at War (Dragon Gate #1) by Lindsay Buroker

I’ve been reading a lot more lately. It’s been a goal for years but this is the first year I’ve really ran with it. I’m way ahead of target and averaging 6 books a month thus far (if you can average with only 2 months of data lol).

Currently watching:

Sooooo many things. Seriously TVMaze Watchlist keeps track for me. I also made it my goal this year to actually finish shows rather than just starting them. I don’t have access to all the episodes yet (just the first 6 seasons) but I’ve almost finished those for:

The Flash

Currently consuming:

I share the confusion as to what this question is about. If it’s food then I guess it’s lunchtime and so in 10 minutes the answer will be:

Soya yogurt

Currently craving:

Now this could be food? Buuuut c’mon lets be real. True I have food cravings sometimes (don’t we all?) but for the fun let’s say something else, something I crave a lot more frequently.

Lego!

Haha. Seriously. I have a problem. Too much is never enough. I always want more. So many cool actual sets, so many cool Rebrickable sets, and so many dreams of MOC’s I want to make.

[mayonnaisetoffees]

Mayo's Fic Recs

List of my favourite fics below the cut; this list is a WIP and completely personal taste; a mix of fandom classics and lesser knowns

Please remember to leave comments and kudos for the authors and podficcers!

*shows particular favourites

Fandoms currently included: Spn, Merlin, Les Mis, BatFam

Fics That Changed Me Fundamentally

Loaded March*** by Footloose. Merlin | E | 1.26M(Series)/ 35k (First part) | 188k hits (First part)

The reason SAS Captain Arthur Pendragon can’t keep a communications specialist in Team Excalibur because none of them are good enough. And then Lieutenant Merlin Emrys gets assigned to his squad, and Arthur does everything he can to prove that Merlin isn’t good enough, either. Except he is.

You can read all about my thoughts on Loaded March here, here, and here. Basically this fic series is beautifully written, has absolutely delicious UST, has found family, magic, and high stakes. It’s been part of my life for almost a decade now, I made friends through LM that I still have to this day, and it genuinely changed me as a person. Plus there are 78k of Extras to itch that I Finished Now What scratch. Parts 1-5 have been podficced and you can find them in works inspired by this one in each part.

Down to Agincourt*** by Seperis. Supernatural | E | 1.12M(Series)/ 154k (First part) | 73k hits (First part)

The world’s already over and they’re already dead. All they’re doing now is marking time until the end.

S7!Dean is transported back to the aftermath of where 5x04 The End left off. Much like LM, DtA was one that I avoided for a while. I didn’t think it would be my thing. I’m not usually into End!verse, it sounded so bleak from the summary, and it sounded so long for something I wasn’t sure about. If you’re reading this and nodding along? You are as much a fool as I was. Yes, it’s the end of the world. But it’s not over yet. This is a beautiful journey in what it means to be yourself, how to survive the end of the world, a How-To for Coups, and a study in food as a love language. I only read this fic this year, but like LM, it has genuinely changed me. Map of the World has been podficced.

Supernatural

Let’s start with the current hyperfixation. All of these are at least passively Dean/Cas unless otherwise stated. I've split into ones from my first time around in the SPN fandom and more recent ones because the vibes are actually really different and it took me some time to adjust (Not in a bad way! In a time has passed they have grown as characters way)

Old-School SPN (AKA the Classics my first time around)

Canon-Compliant or Divergent

Home in Motion* by nomdeplume13 M | 232k | 48k hits

Castiel swore he was done with spur of the moment decisions that permanently changed Dean Winchester's life. A year after the angel's most disastrous, his newest may present the largest challenge of dean's life: Fatherhood.

Did someone say kid!fic in canonverse? This is perfect. Canon divergence from the end of S6. Cas saves a baby from a neglectful mother and gives him to Dean to raise. They all move in with Bobby. Great OCs. Bobby considers Cas his son. Listen everything I say here will not be able to begin to encompass how much I love this fic. Just trust me on this one.

Named* by RC_McLachlan M | 95k | 95k hits

Jesus Christ is dead. Somehow, that isn't the worst part of Dean's week.

With a summary like that, need I say more? No but I'm gonna. This is one of the funniest fics I've ever read, but it doesn't take any emotion from the serious moments, if anything it heightens them. There are so many quotes from this I think about all the time. It was written in 2010 and so there's a bit of misogyny/character assassination of Anna in places.

Second Childhood by CloudyJenn (read by exmanhater) G | 16k (1h30) | 10k hits

"Dude, I can't do this whole thing by myself," Dean said with far more desperation leaking into his tone than he liked. It would just be too much to make it through hell and death and Lucifer only to have Castiel bail on him because of a frigging baby.

They beat the Apocalypse (OG-S5) and then Sam gets de-aged by a spell. I've listened to this so many times I know it by heart, it's an ultimate comfort fic to me.

Defy Any and All Expectation* by Tenoko1 (read by Tenoko1) M | 138k (14hrs) | 37k hits

Chuck's newly released books tell of another war between Heaven and Hell. Team Free Will sets out to try to defy prophecy, only to realize there is a lot more at stake and amiss than the not-quite-accurate words of one Prophet of the Lord. Along the way, Dean and Cas' relationship continues to evolve into something neither expected or were prepared for, all of their lives transforming in ways no one could have expected. But with no shortage of cases, monsters, and mayhem, it's going to require the help of new friends and old enemies if they're to have a hope of saving the world one more time. Alternate Season Six.

So this is a re-written version of Tenoko1's The Path We Choose which I don't think is around anymore. By the time I was reading the re-write as each chapter came out, I knew every single line of TPWC and it wasn't all that much shorter. It's such a perfect canon divergence because they are all 100% in-character. If you're into podfic, you already know what an absolute gift 14 hours is, but if you have never tried podfic before, Tenoko1 is a fantastic place to start. Her voice is soothing and energetic and her Cas sometimes comes to mind when I'm reading fic in Misha's place (sorry Misha)

His Fucking Kids 'Verse by 8sword M | 96k(Series)/ 3k (first part) | 26k hits (first part)

Jesus, the school should just have a parking spot labeled, “Reserved for the Novak-Winchesters,” because Dean’s getting sick of having to cruise around the parking lot looking for a spot every time he gets a call from the principal about Emma.

Emma survives and Dean and Cas are raising her and Claire. This fic series will make you laugh, make you cry, and (nowadays) make you wish Emma had survived to be a part of Wayward Sisters.

One Species Too Many by wallmakerrelict E | 22k | 37k hits

While Dean is laid up for a month after breaking his leg on a hunt, Cas decides that it's a perfect time to adopt a litter of kittens. But even though he's gotten better since Purgatory, Cas still isn't quite the same as he was before fixing Sam's head, and being trapped in a cabin with him for weeks on end is making that all the more obvious to Dean. When Sam takes off on a hunt, Dean has to figure out on his own how to navigate his new relationship with Cas while also helping to raise a bunch of fuzzballs that aren't even cute. Not even a little bit. (Well, maybe a little bit.)

Dean breaks his legs, and honey!Cas brings home some kittens to foster. It's achingly sweet and also painful because you know Dean wants to fix Cas but there's nothing to fix. It is tagged for ableism for this.

Tripping* by Hatteress E | 49k | 78k hits

That time the universe decided Dean belonged with Cas and wasn't afraid to pull out the big guns to make it so. Big guns in this case being obsessive fangirls, archangels turned tricksters and overly enthusiastic cupids. Welcome to Dean's life.

Alt!S5 and it is beautiful. Also any fic with Missouri is an automatic win.

Broadway Musical by Grifitings M | 12k | 79k hits

This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle. The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at. Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.

Jimmy deserves a sainthood and frankly I don't even want to hear about crack if it's not on the level of the Host yelling at Cas not to touch the butt.

Classic AUs (AKA AUs from my first time around)

Try Something Tuesday by almaasi E | 48k | 144k hits

Dean Winchester teaches a third-grade class. He's new to this whole ‘bisexual’ thing - but by pure happenstance, he meets Castiel: a particularly dapper male librarian who moonlights as a substitute teacher. Dean's curious and Castiel is willing, so why the hell not? Except, fate never intended it to be one-time-only...

This was one of the first spn fics to really really stay with me and it never really left.

Rock 'n' Roll Queer Bar by ChasingRabbits E | 127k(Series)/ 8k (Part1) | 29k hits (Part1)

Ellen and Jo Harvelle run Harvelle's Roadhouse, a bar that unintentionally becomes a beacon for wayward queer souls. Her employees: Dean, the smartass runaway with a big heart and bigger mouth; Castiel, the college drop-out turned hippie; his (surprisingly heterosexual) trouble-making brother Gabriel; and Charlie, who has been told several times that the back room is not to be used for after-hours Dungeons & Dragons games. But there's a lot of love in this place, and a new family for anyone who may otherwise be without.

This series. If you've ever felt unsure or out of place or anxious or just really felt like no-one understood you, this fic is for you. I first found this series when I was coming to terms with my queerness and I genuinely think it was invaluable. Also I am a sucker for the go for a dinner at Cas's family and end up storming out trope.

Play It All Night Long by janie_tangerine (read by Tenoko1) NC17 | 43k (4hrs)

The rom-com-ish one where Dean hosts a late night radio show, Castiel is a regular listener of his who starts calling one day and ends up calling more often than not and Dean finds himself liking it. This, until one day Castiel calls for not exactly petty reasons (just before Dean's brother Sam is visiting with his girlfriend for spring break) and things get very, very crowdy at his place. He also doesn't know it's just the beginning of it. Also features Gabriel, Chuck, Andy, the Roadhouse crew and a huge amount of music quoted. Especially Bob Dylan.

Again, this podfic has got me through many a night of insomnia. Cas calls in after a particularly shitty day and it all goes from there.

New-School SPN (AKA post-2014)

Canon-Compliant or Divergent

Tall Grass by aeli_kindara E | 57k | 28k hits

“I think we should have a garden,” Cas says. Dean looks up from his beer. He hasn’t had that much to drink, but Cas still has a vague look of unreality about him, a splash of living color that doesn’t fit in the bunker’s echoing stillness. Dean didn’t hear him coming. A lot of the time, Cas is so unobtrusive it feels like Dean has the bunker to himself, with Sam away. Dean shakes his head to clear it. “A — garden?” he repeats.

There is a reason you will see this recced time and time again. It healed parts of me I didn't know needed healing.

So Says the Sword* by komodobits E | 85k | 73k hits

The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’ Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected

I saw ssts mentioned in like every single If you're getting back into the fandom READ THIS rec list. For good reason. It's described as "canon-adjacent in that seasons one to three happened exactly the same, but when Dean goes to Hell, he is not raised by Castiel". It's one of the most interesting concepts I've read and it's one of those fics where the writing style will stick with you. Castiel POV in a way you've never read before.

Aching in the Absence of You* by sobsicles E | 95k | 9k hits (in 5 days)

Brittle and battle-worn, Cas looks at him over coffee one morning and says, "I need to go," and Dean instantly knows that he's not coming back. He's not really sure how he knows it, but he does. It settles into the pit of his stomach, curling hot and tight like something he instinctively wants to tear out with his bare hands. He takes a breath, and it gets stuck in his throat, hitching there. It hurts, hurts, hurts when he finally exhales. "Yeah," Dean says, "of course you do," and he nods jerkily as he looks down at his phone. He doesn't say goodbye. He doesn't look up from the screen when Cas gets up and leaves the room. He doesn't finish his coffee, or move for a long time. By nightfall, Cas is gone.

If you don't already know sobsicles, I am delighted to introduce you to the person who will smash you to pieces with a hammer to put you back together Kintsugi-style. This one is post-finale but without 15x18 (it'll make sense as it goes). Cas says he's going to leave again and again Dean doesn't ask him to stay. Full of lines so beautiful they'd make Shakespeare weep, Sobsicles has this way of writing that is so evocative and paints such a clear picture. Fair warning, if you're Dean-coded, this might be A Lot.

dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d's to the destination)** by sobsicles E | 108k | 25k hits

Freedom is just one adjustment after the next. ~~~ Cas hums again. "I think you already have. It's been months since everything settled. All that's left to do is...get used to it, and perhaps—" His voice stalls out, uncharacteristically, and his gaze roams Dean's face with intensity. When he speaks next, his tone is a little raw. "Perhaps what one does with peace is...whatever they want." "What if I don't even know what that is?" Dean grumbles, arching an eyebrow in challenge. "'Cause I know damn well you don't just mean good food and a good bed and time in Baby, not simple wants like that. You mean—ya know, the big things, the wants we didn't get to have before." "Yes," Cas agrees. "If you're not sure, figure it out." "Easier said than done."

Yes, two sobsicles recs back to back. This one I read first and it still holds such a special place in my heart. A sign of a good fic is being able to picture it perfectly. The sign of an amazing fic is that when reading this I was so in Dean's shoes I could feel a pool cue between my hands and Baby behind my back. And I sobbed like a baby in this. It has probably my favourite ending ever. It's genuinely beautiful. If you don't read another on this list, read this one.

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara M | 52k | 14k hits

In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean. (A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)

The ultimate Cas character study and interwoven with poetry.

So There It Is, I've Said It All by PorcupineGirl (read by Ceewelsh) G | 4k | 13k hits

"Why, do you have something you need to say to me that you don't think I'll like?" I think I'm in love with you. "Yeah. I guess so."

Dean figures out he's in love with Cas then can't stop thinking it. This is genuinely beautiful and if you've ever had trouble actually saying the thing you're thinking, you'll relate to Dean here. I recently did the podfic for this.

you won't find this place alone by amidsizedfrog G | 9.5k |

When Claire said she was dropping out of college to pursue hunting full time, Dean said, “right,” and left the room. Or, the cross-generation conversation about formal education, choosing your own path and figuring out what it looks like to find a family. Or, in other words: "But what I do have is a GED and a give-'em-hell-attitude, and I'll figure it out." - Dean Winchester

This is a beautiful look at education in the hunter world, and I love anything that looks at Dean and Bobby's relationship and this does it perfectly. Also best cameo ever.

Seek to Know You Better by ahurston E | 33k | 23k hits

Dean and Cas, a long stretch of highway, and 36 questions empirically designed to make two people fall in love. As if they weren't already.

This is perfect. It has a lovely slow pace like it has the vibes of an indie film if that makes sense? Like it's two guys going from place to place talking. It was an instant favourite.

Newer AUs (AKA more recent AUs)

And This, Your Living Kiss* by opal_bullets M | 57k | 69k hits

Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen.

When I asked which fics were absolute must-reads for someone who'd been out of the fandom a few years, this was said repeatedly. But what really got me to read it was everyone actually told me more about what it meant to them than just the summary. It's a study in poetry, a study in learning who you are and who you used to be, and a reminder that it's never too late.

The Graveyard Shift* by riseofthefallenone, PurgatoryJar E | 620k | 175k hits

Dean’s favourite coffee shop, The Graveyard Shift, is only open after the sun goes down. Which is perfect for him, because that’s exactly when he craves coffee the most while doing the overnight at the fire hall. The coffee shop’s owner is pretty perfect too, but it’s kind of a bummer that Dean never gets to see Cas during the day. In a world where the supernatural live more or less in peace with the rest of humanity, it’s a little impolite to ask Cas just what he really is - or what his dark past entails.

A fantastic magical realism fic - magical creatures live and work with humans. Gabe and Cas run a coffee shop, Dean is a fireman, and the burn is slow and delicious and the intrigue kept me reading for like a week every single spare minute.

Painted Angels by WinJennster E | 106k | 162k hits

Author Castiel Novak has finally hit the big time, with a book based on his failed college relationship with a brilliant painter. He's put all his pain behind him, but at a book signing, he comes face to face with Dean Winchester for the first time in twelve years, and the reunion doesn't go like Cas hoped. Dean's a broken man, with a lot of scars and secrets, shoulders weighed down by his demons and self loathing. Cas sees a second chance with the man he's never stopped loving, but Dean's moved on, and is about to get married. Sam launches a "brilliant" plan to reunite his brother and his best friend, but Cas is worried it will all blow up in their faces, and he'll go through the agony of losing Dean a second time.

The first part of this I actually saved back when I was first in the fandom but I never got around to reading it (I had a To Read folder of 100+ fics that I absolutely dove into when I got back into spn) and the rest of the series finished in 2016 so I'm counting it in this section not the other. On the one hand, I wish I'd read this when it first came out. It's beautiful and heartbreaking, and so visual. On the other hand, I think I appreciated it a lot more now than I would have seven years ago. The parallel of me coming back to the old fandom that I loved dearly with Cas coming back to see someone and places he loved so much really hit. (Although coming back to the spn fandom was much easier and much less heartbreak!)

Finale Fix-Its (yeah fuck you Dabb that this has to be a whole category)

The Goldenrod Revisions by aethylas M | 66k | 15k hits

A rewrite of Supernatural’s final two episodes, expanded into a five episode arc - in which Chuck needs to be defeated, Castiel deserves to be saved, and the characters in this story get a very different ending.

Script format re-write of 15x19 and 15x20 into a 5-episode finale fix-it. As far as I'm concerned, this and chocolatecakecas's American Pie fanvid are the Supernatural finale.

break the skin (to break the barriers)* by sobsicles M | 30k | 9k hits

The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment. ~~~ Dean is silent for a long, tense moment, then he gruffly says, "It's not for banishing the angels. It's to summon them. So, it doesn't—it's not to get rid of 'em, but to draw 'em in." Mitzi can't help but glance up at him at that. His voice is so heavy with so much unexplained pain, and she doesn't understand why, or what angels have to do with it. She knows religion can impact people. She's very aware that it can get complicated, and that it can be a huge source of pain for someone, but Dean sounds grievously wronged, somehow, as if it's a truly personal thing. She pushes through, focusing back on her job, clearing her throat before murmuring, "Well, I guess we all want angels to visit us sometimes." "Just the one," Dean mumbles. "Your guardian angel?" Mitzi asks. Dean breathes out, "Something like that. As close to one as an angel will ever get."

Therapy through getting tattoos and telling your life story to someone who obviously doesn't think it's real. Outsider!POV not just done well, but done literally the best.

Kingdom Come by ahurston E | 17k | 10k hits

Cas wakes up on the coast of Maine. He makes his way home.

I don't know if this counts as finale fix-it as it's more fuck the finale we're ignoring that. There's just so much love and care in this fic.

The Family Business by chai_lattes M | 16k | 5.5k hits

It's all over. It's been weeks since Chuck's defeat and Cas' return from the Empty. There are no threats on the horizon, no apocalypses to stop, but there's something that keeps the Winchesters from being happy. Something that's maybe always been there. On their way back from a hunt, they find John Winchester, back from the dead.

If you're anything like me, you start rubbing your grubby little hands together at the tag John Winchester's A+ Parenting like yes let's address this! This is one of the best examples of John coming back and how it jars with the life that they have built. Also Claire and Jack getting to share screentime!

Merlin

If I have a forever fandom, it's Merlin. I've always kept one foot in this fandom, and it introduced me to fandom, and most importantly to podfic which kinda had an impact. All Merthur unless stated.

Canon-Verse

Seven Magpies by syllic (read by lunchee) E | 33k (3hr15) | 58k hits

Arthur opened his eyes a minute later to the sight of seven magpies streaking across the top of the clearing, their shapes dark against the white clouds and the muted grey of the sky. He tried to remember what it was that seven magpies meant—he'd had a nurse who had sung the rhyme to him as a child—but couldn't. Arthur wakes up somewhere he doesn't recognise, but where he clearly belongs.

Okay so this is an AU but it's Canon-AU so it's going here. Fantastic role reversal fic that you will be thinking about for weeks.

and from your grace, i fell by TheDragon (read by Ceewelsh) T | 4.6k (41mins) | 13k hits

“Where’s Merlin?” he asks the maid. “Where’s that idiot of a Court Sorcerer?!” “Begging your pardon, Your Majesty. I thought you knew,” the maid replies, not daring to look him in the eyes. “He’s taken ill.” “And he couldn’t be bothered to tell me himself that he would be unable to attend today’s council meeting?” Arthur questions, voice full of acid. “He hasn’t woken since he collapsed two days ago, Sire,” the maidservant says, blissfully unaware that what she’s saying the power to stop Arthur’s heart in its tracks.

When I first read this, it had me completely transfixed. I could not stop reading. It was so raw and so full of emotion. I was then lucky enough to get TheDragon in our exchange, so I did a podfic for it and it's probably the most proud I've been of one.

Modern AU

The Student Prince* by FayJay (read by FayJay) M | 145k (15hrs) | 696k hits

A Modern day Merlin AU set at the University of St Andrews, featuring teetotal kickboxers, secret wizards, magnificent bodyguards of various genders, irate fairies, imprisoned dragons, crumbling gothic architecture, arrogant princes, adorable engineering students, stolen gold, magical doorways, attempted assassination, drunken students, shaving foam fights, embarrassing mornings after, The Hammer Dance, duty, responsibility, friendship and true love...

A classic is a classic for a reason. I'm also pretty sure this introduced me to podfics so like special place in my heart x2. Did you know if you filter AO3 by hits on Merlin, this has 426k more hits than the second result? Now that is a Fandom Classic.

Drastically Redefining Protocol* by rageprufrock (read by lunchee) E | 46k (5hr30) | 269k hits

In which Prince Arthur meets Merlin and all hell promptly breaks loose.

As I always say, if this can happen to me and I still love the fic, nothing is going to change that. Arthur hides from his duties in a cupboard and gets stuck in there with a chainsmoking med student.

Fundamental Imperfections by Starlingthefool (read by bravenclawsome) M | 12k (1hr35) | 123k hits

In which an argument about Dickens leads to a Twitter scandal, broken bones, midnight conversations, and transatlantic longing. (Or, an AU with Arthur and Merlin as moderately famous authors.)

This fic has everything: Charles Dickens, long distance texting, Morgana choking a Sherlock cosplayer with his own scarf. This is the ultimate comfort fic and I compare all fics to this even when they're incomparable. I never read the sequel because it was WIP and I was waiting for it to complete, it hasn't been updated since 2015 and apparently ends on an unhappy note, so if you're going to read the sequel you have been warned.

Les Mis

Modern!AU

Overzealous Oddities by YassHomo e/R, Courf/Cosette/Marius, Comb/Ép | G | 6.4k | 4k hits

Courfeyrac: Remember when I smashed our tv and we laughed about it? Enjolras: No. Courfeyrac: Let me rephrase Courfeyrac: I've smashed our tv, lets laugh about it.

I love me a text fic and this is in my opinion the best one around. Just look at that summary. I have quoted that so many times.

But Paris was a very old city and we were young* by GingerNinjaAbi E/R, Courf/Jehan | M | 99k | 42k hits

Perhaps somewhere in between all the cups of coffee, shots of tequila, sunny March days, terrible lumpy jumpers, love, cigarettes, drunken nights and the desire to change the world they'll all leave Paris with a degree in something. Or not. Grantaire's money is on no. But he's a pessimist who's hopelessly in love, so perhaps his opinion shouldn't count.

The ULTIMATE modern!AU tbh.

Tagged by Salomonderiel E/R, Courf/Jehan | E | 155k | 28k hits

So there's this artist. He could probably be compared to Banksy, but he's a lot more... cynical. He shares rooms with a poet who braids his hair with flowers, in a flat near Covent Garden they rent from a short-tempered shop keeper with a penchant for fans and who'd do anything if you mentioned Poland. Sometimes, the three of them will go and deface public buildings in London whilst completely smashed off their heads. And then there's this, shall we say, 'revolutionary'. He has a band of other revolutionaries, who all meet at this cafe by Borough Market. He shares rooms with his best mate, a philosophy student, spends too much time with a flirty guy who has a thing for poets, goes boxing with a guy in a red vest, wants to punch the wet sop who drools on the blonde waitress and is getting tired of this guy who keep breaking his laptops through sheer dumb luck. Thank god the hypochondriac's there to keep an (slightly too) attentive eye on their stress levels. The revolutionary thinks the graffiti artist's work is a waste of space. The artist thinks the revolutionary's campaigns are a waste of time. And all the while, the poet and the flirt drool over each other in the background...

This is perfect and it's funny and it's beautiful and it rips my heart out multiple times.

Canon

To Be Free by kjack89 (read by Ceewelsh) Gen, Cosette/Marius | T | 3.8k (32mins) | 375 hits

Three blows from a bayonet had transfixed Combeferre’s breast, followed by a fall from the barricade as he rapidly lost first blood and then consciousness. But neither of these, it seemed, was enough to kill him, as much as later he might perhaps wish that they were.

I read this because it was on a list kjack89 did of their favourite fics which don't necessarily have the same hits traffic. It's nothing I would have usually read (canon era, not e/R, MCD) but I am so glad I gave it a go. It's a study on what if Combeferre had survived the barricades too and the guilt. This stayed with me for days afterwards until I eventually messaged kjack89 to get permission to podfic it.

BatFam

Canonish (I don't know differences between canons but these are all they're superheros fics)

Robins United by laceymcbain (read by reena_jenkins) Gen | T | 49k (6h15)/ 19k (2h25) (First part) | 103k hits

Bullets, knives, a three story fall, even a fucking crowbar hadn't managed to keep Jason down permanently, but Dick Grayson (and the rest of his "family") was going to kill him with kindness.

The ultimate batbros series. Also if you haven't heard reena_jenkins' podfics before, you are welcome. Pre-pandemic I took a lot of public transport and reena_jenkins kept me sane.

batcoons by drakefeathers (read by reena_jenkins) Gen | G | 6k (49mins) | 14k hits

Jason and raccoons have a lot in common. (Additionally: his so-called family are much bigger pests than the stray animals hanging around his safehouse.)

This is funny, it's heartwarming, and it's a really good character study.

AU

Here Comes the Sun by batsy_rocks Clark/Bruce | T | 19k | 20k hits

Clark Kent is a kind-hearted reporter working in the big city. Bruce Wayne is a stressed dad of four with no idea of what he's doing. Then they meet.

Bruce Wayne is a Tired Single Dad™. It's genuinely such a sweet fic.

[thero0ks]

Broken Dishes <Arno Dorian>

Another fic I had posted on AO3, but not Tumblr. Please enjoy ♥

The pile of books never seemed to dwindle. Novices had a terrible habit of never returning books where they found them. Of course they didn’t hold a candle to the master assassins who liked to take their books for a walk. (Y/N) was currently searching for a particular volume the council was requesting. She’d searched every nook and cranny of the library, but the book was nowhere to be found. “It couldn’t have grown legs and wandered off.” She muttered, when it dawned on her that several master assassins visited the library yesterday. Someone had taken the book to their study, and she was on a mission to find the book before the council berated her endlessly for the misplacement of the precious tome.

She found herself climbing the spiral steps in the Cafe Theater. There were several rooms to search, and she went to work knocking on each door inquiring after the tome. She’d made it to the end of the hall with no such luck. There was only one room left to check, and she felt nervous interrupting its occupant. She hoped he wouldn’t answer, so she could search his desk for the novel and leave a note. She hesitantly knocked three times, but much to her disappointment she could hear shuffling inside the room. Finally the door swung open revealing Arno Dorian the master assassin himself.

“Pardon monsieur, it seems a tome has gone missing from the library, and I’m trying to locate it. Do you happen to have the copy of Ezio Auditore’s journal entries?” Her hands fidgeted with her robes absentmindedly.

“Oui, I didn’t know it needed to be back so soon.” He teased lightly, opening the door fully to let her in.

“Normally no, but the council needs it, and I will be reprimanded if it isn’t in their hands by noon.” She explained.

“Ah, I see.” He said grabbing the book off his nightstand, and placing it in her hands.

“Merci beaucoup.” She said letting out a relieved sigh taking the book from him. "You can have it back as soon as the council deems it." She said over her shoulder, causing the man to chuckle. Chocolate eyes watched her figure disappear. He’d seen her in the library on several occasions, and he could not deny that she was a beautiful woman. It was at that moment that Arno decided to make more frequent trips to the library to speak with the pretty bookworm.

* **

Pascal wrapped his arms around her (p/l/c) frame, "missed me?" His voice was husky in her ear.

"Pascal?" She asked spinning in his arms wrapping her arms around him. "When did you get back?" She asked pulling back to inspect him. Her eyes running over his frame looking for any new scars, and taking in his features.

"This morning.” He said planting a kiss on her lips. “A rose for mon ange." He bowed presenting her a blood red rose.

"Merci mon amour." A sweet scent enveloped her when she brought the rose under her nose.

"Can you bare to part with your books for only a moment mon ange?" The blond inquired tapping her nose.

She blushed, "I will have one of the novices clean up tonight. I will meet you at four."

He smiled pressing a kiss to her hand. "It's a date ma belle ange." He slipped away into the shadows leaving her stomach fluttering. She closed her eyes engulfed in the flower’s scent once more.

Arno pressed himself against the bookshelf clinging to the shadows as Pascal passed. He peeked around the corner to see the pretty scholar lost in her own world. Something inside him urged him to follow Pascal. He tailed the man through the crowded Parisian streets. The man stopped at a social club hesitating to survey his surroundings to confirm he wasn't followed, before slipping through the door.

Arno found a place at the bar, which was crowded allowing the master assassin to easily blend, and observe the man completely undisturbed. His chocolate hues widened when another woman greeted the man at his table. Arno could assume the rest, but he couldn't leave without being completely sure of the affair.

Pascal's fingers trailed the green eyed vixens cream skin as he placed the pendant on her neck. Soon his fingers were replaced with lips, and the two were lost in each other.

Arno had witnessed enough. He quickly placed a few francs on the bar slipping back into the street. Exposing the man's true character seemed like the best course of action. If he told the librarian she may not believe him, but she deserved to know. His heart ached for the woman. She appeared to be taken with Pascal, and the man was an ass.

* **

He found her at a table in the library flipping through a large novel. “Salut.” Arno’s soft voice echoed across the empty library. She glanced up her eyes taking a moment to bring her back to reality, “Salute monsieur Dorian.” She said offering him a soft smile.

“A secret admirer?” He inquired nodding at the blood red rose that sat beside her.

A blush crept up her cheeks, “non." She said simply.

"A lover?" His eyes lit up, and a small smile crept on his face at her soft innocence.

"We've been seeing each other for some time." She confessed, playing with the pages of her book. Her mind seemed somewhere else.

"Is there something troubling you amie?" He inquired, taking a seat across from her.

Her teeth sunk into her lip, rolling it nervously deep in thought, "he seems different as of late."

Arno nodded his head a sign for her to go on. "He's gone a lot during the day. Which wouldn't be odd, but…" she said trailing off.

"What is it?" His hand found her’s gripping it for support. A friendly gesture to ensure he was listening.

"Well he told me he was on a mission a few weeks ago, but that same morning his mentor approached me asking where he was. His mentor was under the impression he was with me, and I was-"

"Under the impression he was with him." Arno finished her sentence with a grim face. She dipped her head in confirmation the cowl blocking her features for a moment.

"I do not want to seem paranoid, but I'm not a fool either." She said simply.

"Does a woman with red hair and green eyes mean anything to you?" He inquired gageing her reaction to the question.

Fine brows furrowed deep in thought, but she shook her head slowly, "non." She hesitated her eyes fluttering closed for a moment to gain her composure. "What do you know?" Her (e/c) eyes snapped open in a flash.

Arno let out a heavy sigh, "I overheard the two of you in the library this morning. Something about him was...unsettling, so I followed him." Arno said running a hand up the back of his neck. Admitting his snooping filled him with shame.

"And what did you find?" Her voice came out hard, and flat.

"A mistress...his mistress." He clarified at the end. Her jaw was set, and there was a spark behind her (e/c) eyes. She stood up abruptly, grabbing the rose and mangling it beyond repair.

Arno's brows shot up at the scene unfolding. "That lying connard!" She seethed. Her hands picked up the large book, angrily forcing it back into its place on the shelf.

"(Y/N), let's think about this rationally." He said in attempts to calm her.

"I'm going to give him a piece of my mind." She said simply storming out of the library, Arno hot on her heels.

"You know you cannot kill him." Arno said plainly as she stormed up the hall towards Cafe Theater.

She scoffed "monsieur Dorian. You think me so rash? I was only going to threaten...then use force if necessary." She added at the end.

Arno gripped her by the shoulders, "you need to breath, and think about this."

"If you're waiting for me to break down and cry you'll be waiting a long time, because he doesn't deserve the satisfaction of hurting me. I won't allow it!" She said throwing her hands up in anger. "I decided a long time ago that I get to choose who hurts me. My tears won't be wasted on someone like him." As soon as she said it, she ran out of steam and her composure fell.

Her back hit the stone wall and her feet slowly eased her down until she was sitting on the cold floor. "What am I doing?" She mumbled the back of her skull hitting stone.

Arno took a seat next to her, "Heav'n has no Rage, like Love to Hatred turn'd, Nor Hell a Fury, like a Woman scorn'd."

Her eyes gazed up at him tuning her head to face him, "The Mourning Bride?" He'd caught her by surprise."A well read master assassin who helps damsels in distress. Monsieur you are full of surprises." She teased nudging his shoulder.

"Arno." He said softly. "Please just call me Arno." His eyes were soft gazing into hers. She could see the faint scar running across the bridge of his nose and cheek. His face was hypnotizing in the candlelight. He had eyes that she could get lost in, and before she found herself slipping into a sea of chocolate she cleared her throat.

"I need to speak with Pascal." She said pushing herself up from the ground. "Thank you Arno."

"Would you like me to come with you?" Arno asked scrambling to his feet.

"Could I stop you?" She inquired. He let out a breathy laugh with a shake of his head. "Then I suppose I'm stuck with you." She jested, a ghost of a smile on her face.

"I believe we have dinner reservations to ruin." Arno said lightly gesturing towards the end of the hall.

The pair made their way down the hall to find Cafe Theater alive with music, and voices melting together. Her eyes locked on Pascal seated at a table by the stage. He hadn't noticed her peeking into the room. He was out of his robes, sporting a smart emerald jacket, and his blond locks were plaited with a ribbon.

"What's the plan?" Arno inquired leaning against wall. His arms folded across his chest playing the role of a mysterious stranger perfectly.

"Don't have one." She said her eyes darting around the room for a woman with red hair and shamrock eyes.

"Wait. You don't have one?" Arno asked straightening up.

She waved him off, "believe me. I did this all the time on missions. I'm much better at winging it. Pissed Bellec off." She snickered.

"You told Bellec you were going to 'wing it'." He asked trying to hold back the laughter.

"No, of course not. I told Bellec he was going to watch me wing it." She said waving him off.

"Pray, how did he take that news?" Arno asked with a an uncontrollable smile.

"Usually he’d say: I want the last words you think about before you die be 'I told you so.'" She said attempting to imitate Bellec's gruff voice. Arno shook his head at the image. It was exactly the kind of thing his old mentor would say. Her voice brought him back to the dimly lit cafe.

"That's her isn't it." She said spotting the redhead a couple tables away from Pascal. Arno peeked around the corner, and with a nod of his head confirmed her assumptions. "Come on." She said dragging him by the front of his robes.

"Mon amour." She greeted sweet poison dripping from each word.

"Mon ange." Pascal greeted. "Late at the library again?" He teased.

"Monsieur Dorian was filling me in on some research he did." She said taking a seat at the table. Arno followed suit curious what the woman was up to.

"Oh, a book lover as well?" Pascal inquired. "Master Dorian, what is the sudden interest with a lowly scholar?" He inquired.

(Y/N) had to refrain from rolling her eyes. The man was cheating on her, and he had the audacity to get jealous that Arno showed an interest in her. “A brilliant mind, and a beautiful face is rare in this world mon ami.” The word ‘ami’ had a hint of warning laced in it.

Arno turned to (Y/N) with a thought flickering in his mind, "are you in love?" Arno's voice was like silk.

"Out." (Y/N)'s voice came automatically.

A glint showed in Arno's eyes. He was unsure if she would understand, but there was no doubt now. "Of love?"

"The one I love doesnt love me." Her voice came soft. "Shakespeare?" She questioned, but she already knew the answer.

"Oui."

Her jaw was set as she turned on her old flame, sparks coming to life behind her eyes, "you dared bring her here?"

"Bring who amore?" He shifted uneasily caught in his lie.

"Her. Your mistress." Her head inclined towards the red haired woman. "You couldn't be shamed enough to keep it private?" Her voice cracked at the end.

"Mon ange, she's nothing." His voice came out quiet. "I love only you."

Her eyes grew sad, and her mouth went slack studying him for a moment. "Pascal, you do not break those you love." The chair legs on the wooden floor made a loud echo in the room as she stood. She left the theater without a glance back.

His footsteps were silent, but she didn't need to hear him to know he was there. Paris' streets were empty and the lights sparkled off the surface of the Seine. The marble railing was cool on her legs as she leaned against it waiting for him to speak.

"Who broke you?"

Her hood was thrown back and the cool breeze trailed across her skin. She weighed the question her eyes boring into him. A sigh released, and he knew he'd gained her trust. "My father. That was a long time ago. I put the pieces back together, but a broken dish will always be a broken dish." She said with a shrug of her shoulders. Her gaze drifted over the obsidian surface of the river, as if she were attempting the shake the emotions that bubbled to the surface of her mind.

Arno shifted on the cobblestones unsure what to say. "Death broke me. Maybe we're all just broken dishes in the end."

She snorted, "what a sorry title for a life."

Arno stepped closer to her. Her frame was silhouetted in the moonlight, and he finally realized that she was a tragic beauty. Held together by only sadness and empty dreams. Books were a solace for her, because she felt everything so deeply. She hadn't the tears to spare anymore. Living in perpetual sadness lead her to greet sorrow like an old friend. It was then that he realized that some people found beauty in sadness. Some women were like flowers, and sunshine. Others were like silk and midnight, but this girl was a raging storm that would swallow you whole and spit you right out. She'd weathered too many storms to settle for anyone who couldn't handle the tidal waves and driving rain.

"Maybe our broken pieces would fit together." If it hadn't been for the empty streets she wouldn't have heard the soft whisper of his voice.

For a moment he was worried she hadn't heard him, but she pushed herself off the railing to stand in front of him. "Are you going to be there when my world comes apart? I've given too many pieces away to support everyone else."

He looked down into those soft (e/c) pools. "Then I'll give you some of mine." He said softly. It was in that moment he knew she needed to be kissed, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to kiss her. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips slightly parted. Long lashes gazed up at him, one hand cupped her face and the other tangled in her (h/c) locks. When their lips touched the world seemed to float away. The only real thing in the world at that moment was the two of them entangled in a kiss. When they finally parted, their lips were swollen, and there was no room for anything but love in their eyes.

"You have the kind of eyes a girl could get lost in." She said softly. There was no room for anything above hushed whispers. "I cannot bare to say goodnight."

"Then tell me good morning." He said softly kissing her once again. Hands entwined he lead her to his room. On a feather bed they wouldn't have to part. Their souls could become one, and they’d never have to say goodnight.

__

Tag List:

@pink-polarfox @marshmallow—3 @jstar1992

[suzuki-violin-school]

“On a rainy New Year’s Eve...”

I am very soft for this one but I threw it together in like an hour so it’s kind of blehhh

Masterlist

Content: antisocial bookworm, sweet soft babie deku, guava juice, denki being Stupid

Y/n walked into the common area of the dorms, tired and confused as always, dressed only in pajamas shorts, a large, large t-shirt and an even bigger unzipped hoodie- A men’s XXL she’d gotten as a gift. Big hoodies were comfortable. She held an open book limply in one hand, thumb marking her current page. She rubbed her eyes with her other hand.

All festivities in the room had halted when she’d arrived- She wasn’t one for large gatherings, even just amongst her classmates. Even if less-sociable students like Koda and Tokoyami were there, Y/n most likely wasn’t. Her showing up to the New Year’s party was highly unexpected.

Until she spoke.

“What the hell are the rest of you doing up?” She asked, confused. She glanced through the windows, confirming the color of the sky- Inky, pitch black, clouds hiding the moon, and only a few dim stars showing through. Generally late at night. (With no discernible concept of time, the color of the sky was what led her internal rhythm.)

“…It’s New Year’s Eve,” Mina stated flatly, a red solo cup of sparkling cider in her hand. Looking around, almost everyone had one, as well as a few choice snacks and a few party horns.

“We didn’t think you’d make it to the party!” Kaminari said excitedly, doing a dumb little dance to his own internal music.

“Oh. Last time I paid attention, it was December fifth,” Y/n said casually, continuing her trip to the kitchen, still in pursuit of a glass of guava juice. Heaven on Earth. Pure bliss poured right into a pink Sailor Moon mug. The nectar of the gods. “I have no concept of time, I guess.”

Y/n was quick about pouring herself a glass of juice, and she took a single sip before burying her nose in the book, reading as she walked back to her room.

Tried to walk back to her room, that is.

She was stopped by a gentle hand on her wrist, softly pulling her hand- and consequently, her book- away from her face. She glanced at the person committing the sin (interrupting her reading) and found that she couldn’t be mad- It was Midoriya, smiling softly, his eyes as bright and shiny as ever, his freckles prominent on his cheeks in the strange party lighting.

“At least stay for the countdown,” he said. “We hardly get to hang out with you! …Please?”

And how could she say no to those big, beautiful eyes, that cute pout, his scruffy hair-

“Alright, fine,” she said, sighing. She walked over to the window and turned, leaning back against it and sliding down to the floor. There she sat, her juice on the floor next to her, her face once again hidden by a hardcover copy of something called Visitor At Dawn.

As awkward as ever, Midoriya sat down next to her. Once again, he committed the great crime of interrupting her reading. Once again, Y/n didn’t have it in her to be mad.

“So, what are you reading?”

“It’s a romance mystery-thriller novel,” Y/n said. “It’s originally an English book, but it was translated into Japanese by the brother of my favorite librarian downtown. It’s pretty good, I guess, but I’m really just reading it as part of my exploration into Western literature. I’ve found a trend in Western writing, y’see, male authors tend to write a lot about things they don’t know anything about, namely woman things, and the way they describe women in their writing is absolutely hilarious! So far, if I were to average their descriptions of a main love interest, it’s a woman whose breasts enter a room before the rest of her does, with a voice pleasant enough to drown out her own words so you don’t have to listen to her, who only wears high heels and is never aware of how much cleavage she’s showing.”

Y/n laughed at her own rambling before noticing how much she’d just said. She stared down at the book in her lap awkwardly.

“I’ve never been into Western writing,” Midoriya said. He’d never heard Y/n talk so much in all the time he’d known her. Even when she was present in a conversation, her responses were short and quiet. Clearly, he’d finally hit the jackpot- It made sense. Of course she’d be much more willing to talk about something she was passionate about, and she was passionate about books, always carrying around more than one at a time. “It doesn’t sound like they write women as characters, more like objects.”

Y/n smiled to herself, realizing that Midoriya wanted to talk with her, that he was actually interested in what she had to say. That he didn’t mind her nerding out over her books.

“Yeah, exactly!” She said. “They’re plot devices, not characters! Even male main characters aren’t really characters, a lot of them are authors self-projecting onto a fictional person to live out their own fantasies, and a lot of the time, it’s just stupid. This might be the seventh Western romance-mystery book I’ve read, and it has the same plot as the other six!”

“Yeah? What’s the plot?”

“Detective goes out drinking one night with a close friend, sometimes a work partner, and he picks up a tip on a new case client,” Y/n said, adjusting to sit up in a more ‘active’ manner. She turned the book over in her lap, keeping it spread open on her current page but turning it away from herself. “When he meets the client, it’s a beautiful woman unlike any he’s seen before! Her husband was murdered, or her sister, or father, and so the detective looks into the case, falling in love with the woman as she attempts to help him solve it. In the end, the murderer’s either been the woman’s father, her brother, or the detective’s trusted friend. …And each one has, of course, at least two fascinating sex scenes.”

Y/n rolled her eyes heavily when she said that, and Midoriya averted his gaze for a moment, sex being a very awkward subject for him. Before he could respond, everyone else in the room had started counting down. He glanced at Y/n, who was watching her classmates carefully. He’d only asked her to stay until the countdown, but it didn’t look like she was about to get up and go back to her dorm room. Was she going to stay with him and talk about books some more?

“Five.”

“Four.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

“Happy New Year’s, Y/n,” Midoriya said, smiling. He surprised both Y/n and himself when he leaned in close and kissed her cheek.

With the ruckus of gleeful yelling, cheering, the honking of party horns and snapping of party poppers in the background, Y/n simply returned the favor, laying a sweet kiss on one freckled cheek.

“‘With the darkness of night surrounding them, the two leaned in close, hardly even hearing the noise spilling into the street from the inn. The streetlight reflected them lazily in a puddle at their feet, the image distorted with every drop of rain that fell around them. “I think a New Year’s kiss is in order, ma’am,” he said, a smirk pulling at his lips. She looked up at him through thick lashes, her ruby-red lips curling into a smile. “Perhaps,” she said teasingly, tugging him ever closer by his dark tie. “Kiss me, then.” …It’s the only New Year’s scene I can remember,” Y/n said, smiling. “It’s nice to have my own kiss, though. I’ve only ever read about them.”

“You sure like your books,” Midoriya said, completely in awe of Y/n’s recitation.

“And I sure like you.”

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Hallucinations and Salutations || Leah and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: The woods PARTIES: @phoenixleah and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Kaden goes hunting in the woods and finds a phoenix instead of ballybogs.

Somedays Kaden wished he could just ignore what he knew, just stay at home and maybe have a nice, normal relaxing night, warm and comfortable, dog curled up beside him. That wasn’t his life though. So here he was, walking through the woods. There were reports of large frogs along one of the hiking trails in the woods. In isolation, not terrible news. Weird but fine. However, the reports also said that some of the people who crossed their path ended up in the hospital with symptoms of poisoning. If Kaden had to guess, he was pretty sure once he got there, he’d find ballybogs. He could have let it lie stayed home. Sure, it was winter, there were less hikers than normal, but that didn’t mean no hikers. He could have just closed the path. No, instead he was going to take care of the problem personally. He’d made sure to wear gloves and a scarf wrapped around his face and hat. He really should have brought goggles, too, to protect himself from the poison but he hadn’t actually thought that far ahead. And he wasn’t sure he had any. Along the way, he heard a heartbeat up ahead and paused. There was no way to tell for sure what sort of creature it belonged to just by that, but the rhythm and the footfalls certainly suggested human. He fucking hoped. “Hello?” he called out, voice muffled by the scarf. “Anyone here?”

Despite the rain’s miserable qualities, there was always something special about a walk through the forest after a storm.  The way the puddles settled on the ground, like temporary pools of reflection that begged to be explored or splashed in.  Leah, of course, would never venture close enough to something so dangerous to her, but they were certainly nice to look at.  Especially now, when they seemed to be dancing, swirling different shades of blue throughout them.  If she were being honest with herself, she didn’t even know how she ended up here, or why she was in the forest on this particular day.  A more lucid version of herself might have explained that she was attempting to get back on her feet and exploring the forest alone like she always did seemed like the best way to do that.  It had been working, too, until she came across a rather large toad that she immediately recognized as a ballybog.  A ballybog who viewed her as a threat and shot some of it’s poison right onto her face.  That didn’t matter now, though, because the puddles colors were still dancing, intoxicating and bright, and she wondered what kind of unknown magic they possessed.  A voice she recognized shook her out of her thoughts, it echoed through the trees around her.  She looked up, spotting the most annoying person on the planet.  “You again?!”, she said, rolling her eyes dramatically.  “I’m trying to watch the show in peace, Kaden.  Is nothing sacred anymore?”  Behind him, a dog was juggling on a unicycle, and she scoffed out a short laugh.  “Is that yours?” she asked looking beyond him.

Of all the people to find out here, it was Leah. Kaden thought about rolling his eyes and walking away, he was sure she wanted nothing to do with him anyway, but she beat him to the punch. At least on the former part. He still was planning to opt for the latter himself but her words threw him off. “Again?” he asked, scrunching his brow. “Leah, what the fuck are you talking about? A show?” He glanced behind him, following her finger and gaze, only to see nothing there. He whipped back to look at her. “Is what mine? Leah are you al--” The pieces came together and Kaden sighed. He was out here looking for ballybogs. Either the librarian was off her rocker, or, more likely, she found the monsters first. “You know what, you’re right. Nothing is sacred. In fact, I’m here to take you to the show,” he said reaching his hand out to her. “Come on, we have to get out here.” Before more ballybogs found them. She was clearly already under the influence and the last thing they needed was for him to fall under, too. “It’s, uh, it’s not-- I mean, the show is… somewhere else. Not here,” he said, trying to play along. Only he had no idea what he was working with. Or if she was going to trust him in the slightest.

“The show is there, you Indagor,” Leah said, pointing to the puddle of rainbow colors.  If only she had seen that type of representation when she was a young teen.  Still, she looked to his hand and reached to grab it, something about it seeming warm and inviting.  Warm, warm, warm.  She gasped, realizing his trick almost instantly.  “No!” she shouted at him, pulling her hand back just before it grabbed his.  “You may not feel my skin.  It is no warmer than yours!”  She rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands into her pockets and swallowing, anxious about how close that had been.  Was Kaden here to steal her tears, then?  She furrowed her eyebrows at his words, looking to the rainbow puddle.  Was this just the pre-show?  She turned to him again, suspicious, but taking a few steps in his direction.  “I’ll allow you to show me, but don’t think you’re getting any tears out of me, buddy.”  She should really try to be nicer to him- he was Bea’s friend and someone Regan liked to kiss, for some reason.  “I like your beret and striped shirt”, she muttered stubbornly as she walked behind him.  “You must get along so well with the other mimes.”

“In-da-what?” Kaden said, brow furrowing. He shook his head. It didn’t matter. Clearly his attempts to persuade her wasn’t working. The hallucinogen from the ballybog was too strong. At least he hoped like hell that’s all this was. “Fine. I won’t take your hand,” he said, holding his hands up in a bit of surrender. It would be so much easier to just leave her there and walk away but no part of him could ever actually leave someone behind like that, let alone someone he knew. “Tears? Putain, did our conversations before make you cry or something? Why would I want you crying? I just want to get you out of, uh, the way. Out of the way of the performance.” He hoped this would work. Hell, at least she was following him. That was something. “My what?!” He stopped dead in his tracks and she ran into his back before he turned to look at her. “I am not a mime. I’ve never been a mime. And I’d sooner die than be a mime, got it?” He didn’t care if she was practically high, he wasn’t going to stand for this slander.  

“Inda-goooooor”.  Leah sang out the last syllable, holding her hands out triumphantly as she walked closer to Kaden.  “They’re monsters that look like buttholes and never leave you alone. It was rude to call you that, but sometimes that’s just. How. I. Feel.”  A wave of relief overtook her when he relented and seemed to not need to feel her skin just yet.  Perhaps there was a way she could distract him long enough to get away, just in case he got that idea in his head again.  She furrowed her eyebrows at Kaden, his words jumbling and stretching and mixing together.  There was no deciphering what he was saying, and suddenly, concern overtook her features.  “Kaden, Bud, you doing alright?  None of that coming out of your mouth sounds like words.”  She watched the ground as she walked behind him, fascinated by how all the little people down there managed to create such intricate choreography on the spot.  As she walked into him, she let out a grunt, reaching for her collarbone and rubbing it, though none of the pain she’d been used to appeared.   “If you’re not a mime, then why are you dressed like that?”, she mumbled under her breath.  Hearing calming music in the distance, she looked beyond Kaden, noticing a creature dancing in a rather large puddle a few paces ahead of them.  “Now that is fascinating!” she said, squinting her eyes to get a better look.  “Is that the show?”

“Putain de merde, really?” Kaden said with a sigh. Of course she was insulting him with rare supernatural lore. That was about the only thing that made sense right now. “Pick a simpler insult next time, alright?” For a moment, he considered asking her how she knew all this, where she got those supernatural books she had at the ready. She was clearly under the influence of the ballybog poison, she might tell him. But even if he did ask, there was no guarantee anything she said would be coherent. And even if it was, he was damn sure he didn’t want to be the sort of person to even ask right about now. “What do you mean it doesn’t sound like words?” he asked. Well that made it clear now was not the time for any conversation. He needed to get them out of these woods and get her home in one piece. Quickly.

Kaden’s brow furrowed as she mentioned mimes. Why was it always the fucking mimes? “Dressed like what?” He looked down at his clothes, checked his shirt. It was flannel. And his jacket was black. Nothing was striped. He was damn sure of that, he would never willingly walk out of the house wearing black and white stripes. But it was nice to see that Rumpleskuffs hadn’t messed with his wardrobe on his way out the door. What wasn’t great to see was Leah leaning over into a puddle that had a hand rising up from it. “Leah!” Kaden shouted as he reached to grab her and yanked her away from whatever the hell was crawling out of the water. It was strange how warm she was given how cold it was outside. Maybe the poison was giving her a fever. Merde, they had to get out of there. “Come on, we’ve gotta g--” His words were cut off by a scream as he felt something wrap around his ankle, trying to drag him down and backwards.

Leah nodded, satisfied with herself.  She wasn’t sure if his frustrated mention of poutine was due to the fact that she was definitely smarter than him, or if he was just that upset that there weren’t any fries around.  Either way, his reaction was funny, and a snorted laugh escaped her.  Normally, she would have been mortified at such a loss of composure in front of someone she was not at all comfortable with.  “I mean you’re talking all jumbled up, almost like a song.  Remember the mirror house at the summer carnival?  You sound like that.”

“You know… all stripped.  Red Scarf.  Beret.  Face paint.  Isn’t that the mime uniform?” She said as she walked over to the puddle creature to get a better look.  She was sure she was a safe distance away, and huffed in annoyance when Kaden made the dramatic move to yank her away.  She turned around to face him when he screamed, looking him up and down with concern.  First, his words were jumbled up, and now he was screaming.  Clearly something was wrong with him, they really needed to get him to this show to calm him down.  After staring and searching for a while, her eyes fell to his feet, and to the hand wrapped around his ankle.  “Oh look! That’s weird.  That thing looks like it’s trying to pull you into the puddle.”  She furrowed her eyebrows, watching as the hand danced around Kaden’s ankle, coaxing and curling and cunning.  It seemed familiar, like the horror stories about water monsters she and her siblings used to tease each other with when they were children, prompting fear in her belly after every rainstorm that plagued White Crest.  She shook her head, snapping out of her thoughts, and focused again on the man in front of her.  The mime clothes were gone, but Kaden’s face was filled with distress.   She licked her lips, stepping forward to grab his hands, attempting to pull him away from the monster in the puddle.  “Don’t worry Kaden, the water won’t kill you like it would us, but the monster’s teeth probably will.”  Her feet were getting dangerously close to the puddle as well, but she was too focused on pulling Kaden to safety (and maybe too high on ballybog) to realize.  She tried as she pulled to place the name of the monster- Voltron, Virginia, VapidHunterMan- “Vodnik!”.  Saying the name aloud stirred something deep within her, and her eyes locked with Kaden, concern suddenly lacing her features.

Kaden didn’t have time to question her about whatever strange mime illusions she was seeing. Not now, not as he felt himself being dragged down towards a puddle. “The water won’t what?!” he shouted back as he clawed at the ground and rocks and roots, trying to find something to hold on to, anything to pull himself out of the iron grip around his ankle. His heart pounded in his chest, what a fucking shitty time for Leah to be under the influence of a hallucinogenic supernatural frog. Would she even reach out to take his hand? Even try to help? His eyes grew wide as he watched her, chest heaving as he dug his fingernails deeper into the dirt, trying with all his might to keep himself from being yanked away. It was possible that even if she were in her right mind, she’d leave him there. If he found the breath to speak again, maybe he should tell her to run. At least one of them would make it out alive that way. Then he felt her hands around his and his head shot up to meet her gaze. She was helping? Right, she was helping. He did his best to help let her guide him away from the monster, hoping she was strong enough to at least afford him some leverage as he kicked backwards, flailing to hit whatever it was trying to pull him away. “Vodnick?” he said on an exhale? Putain. A fucking vodnick? Shit fucking shit.

Kaden scrambled even more, got his free foot square on the ground and used it to push himself forward, out of the monster’s grip. He tumbled to the ground, landing on his side, shoulder sliding through the mud and grime of the forest floor. He groaned as he stood up and straightened himself out. It looked like the monster was gone. For now. But they were surrounded by puddles. And one of them, maybe all of them, contained a monster. “We have to get out of here. N--” Before he could say now, a roar split through the forest and a creature burst up from the ground, water splaying and spraying around it. Kaden threw himself in front of Leah like a human shield, reaching for his knife. It felt small and pointless against the growling creature but he was going to do his best. Not what he came prepared to fight, but he was damn sure his training wasn’t about to let him down now.

Leah pulled and pulled with all her might, her eyes now traveling between Kaden’s face and the monster that threatened to pull him deeper, deeper, deeper.  It was hard to focus, because his face morphed and twisted as she pulled, like the puddle she was looking at earlier, but with more less color and more eyes. When Kaden was finally free, she plopped back onto the ground with a grunt, feeling the slight sludge of mud underneath her.  What an interesting texture- she had an urge to reach out and touch it with her- No….Mud wasn’t good- mud meant moisture, and moisture meant water, and water definitely meant ouch.   It was a better idea to reach for Kaden next to her for support as she stood up, and that’s exactly what she did.  Although he was saying something, Leah barely registered it, instead focusing on the trees that swayed and danced behind him.   She was about halfway to standing when the monster roared out, but it wasn’t the noise that gained her attention.  Small droplets of water made contact with her arm and a harsh, sizzling noise could be heard underneath the roar.  She cried out, covering the skin with her hand, eyes wide as she looked between it, Kaden, and the Vodnik.  There was something about the pain from the splash that sobered her up considerably, though only enough to cause her complete confusion in what around her was real.  She grabbed the small of Kaden’s back as he jumped in front of her to shield herself, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in.  

“I can’t-... Don’t let it… It wants to get me we-” Her words were cut off by another cry of pain as a wet, slimy hand wrapped itself around her ankle from behind them.  Water from the creature’s hand soaked through her jeans immediately, and the stinging from it hurt worse than she expected it to.  There were always times growing up that she’d had the occasional contact with water, it was almost inevitable, especially living in White Crest, but something about this felt heavy and elevated, so much so that she didn’t bother hiding the pain from Kaden like she normally would. As it attempted to pull her down, Leah was thrown to the ground.  She thrashed and struggled, attempting to get away before she was submerged.  “Kaden!”, she cried, her voice fearful and desperate. “I can’t get wet! I ca- don’t let it take me, ...p-please!”

Kaden kept his eyes in font of him. Which was his first mistake. The vodnik had shifted behind them and the hunter twisted back to face the screams from behind him. “Leah!” he shouted as he saw her being pulled down. Shit, she was on the ground before Kaden had a chance to figure out what was going on. Putain de merde. He reached out to grab her back and missed her at first. Shit, the knife was in the way. He dropped it and tried again, gripping her hands and wrists, pulling her away from the monster. “Hold on! I’ve got-- What?” His brow furrowed at her shouts that she couldn’t get wet and nearly loosened his grip as she slid back. Shit, shit. He threw himself towards the monster and her ankle and started prying the beast’s grip off her. Still, it didn’t make sense. Vodniks didn’t secrete acid, did they? It was just water. Why was she afraid of it? Putain, didn’t matter, he’d figure that out later. Right now he needed to get her away from harm and kill this fucking monster.

Kaden’s mind raced as he tore the monster away from Leah. Vodik. Shit, had to run through his memory for what he knew about them. Water monsters. Great, that was obvious. Came out of any water, right he saw that right now. Weaknesses, what the fuck were their weaknesses? He was pretty sure anything would kill them, nothing specific needed. But there had to be a catch. There was always a catch.

Putain. That was right. “We have to get it out of the water. Back up!” he shouted once she was free. Kaden then reached into the puddle before it tried to slink away and dragged the beast from the water. A shiver ran down his spine as his hands touched the water, worse than any werewolf, but he didn’t have time to worry about that now. He reached down for his knife, any knife, only to find it wasn’t there. Shit. “The knife!” he yelled, hoping she’d figure out to toss it over.

A searing pain continued to pulsate from Leah’s ankle, where the Vodnik’s hand was securely wrapped with no indication that it had any intention of giving in.  In the depths of her mind, a monster like the Vodnik was always something she was most afraid of, and it was some sick twist of fate that she was stuck begging for help from someone she trusted so little.  Still, she wrapped her arms around Kaden as he pulled her free, and for the first time, she was grateful he was a hunter.  She couldn’t believe that thought had even crossed through her mind, but it was true- she just hoped she’d forget about it before she completely sobered up from whatever was making her feel so loopy.  

As soon as she got her bearings about her, she backed up like he asked, being sure to avoid any other puddles dancing on the ground around them.  The water still swirled and twisted inside, but it no longer looked inviting or entertaining.  Something shiny caught her attention out of the corner of her eye, but she needed to deal with something much more important first.  Sucking in a sharp breath through her teeth, she pulled at the wet jeans around her ankle, rolling them up to reveal her smoking skin underneath. The water from the Vodnik had done a number there, but it was nothing a few tears couldn’t fix.  At least none of it had burned off- Kaden had gotten to her just in time.  Kaden… was he speaking again?  Whatever he said sounded hollow in her ears, like he was worlds away instead of 7 feet.  She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to make out his words in slow motion.  The knife.  Oh!  The knife!  Did he lose it?  She looked around her feet, trying to recall where she’d seen the shiny silver twinkle just moments before.  “Ah!” she said when she finally located it, picking it up and turning to him triumphantly. Except, it wasn’t a knife she was holding at all, it was a twig.“The knife!”, she called, tossing it across the way to him.  

His grip slipped and slid aas Kaden tried to hold onto the mossy, slimy monster that was thrashing against the grip of his arms. The vodnik wanted desperately to drag kaden back to the puddle, deep down into the murky waters and devour him. It tried to find a way to grab the hunter, pull him down. A chill shot through Kaden as he did his best to keep it contained, shoving his elbow into the monster, slamming his boots against any loose limb he saw. It wasn’t fear that brought the chill, though. It was something else. If only he had a fucking knife. He took a chance to glance back at Leah to see what the hell she was doing. That glance didn’t provide much answers, she was wandering around near aimlessly. “Putain! Any second now!” he yelled back as the monster clawed at him and roared. It was trying to grab onto his wrist, pull it away and drag him back.

Just when Kaden thought he’d have to reach for a rock and make shit up as he went along, his head shot back to see the knife flying towards him. He caught it and twisted it under hand, stabbing the monster in the gut, digging the blade deep into its flesh. The screech of pain that waled through the forest was loud, but Kaden had heard much worse. He kicked the thing away and leaned over to slit its throat, pulling the blade across swift and clean, before stabbing it in the heart for good fucking measure. It wasn’t long before the creature stopped writing and screaming and lay there in the forest dead. Certainly not the worst fight Kaden had endured, but all the same, he felt drained in a way he couldn’t explain. Like there was a fog around him and like he was freezing at the same time. “I don’t-- Are you--” he started to ask before he slunk back down to the ground to sit and hold his head. He needed the world to stop spinning. “Okay,” he managed to say at last. “Are you okay?”

Wait-... no.  The twig knife Leah tried to throw fell halfway across with a plop, and she realized a moment later that the weight had been all off.  Maybe whatever was making her feel loopy was making her see things as well.  Focus, Leah.  She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep breath in before opening them again, noticing a glint under a few leaves a few feet away.  “Sorry, I got it!”, she called grabbing the new knife and tossing it back and forth, making sure it was the right weight.  “Here, this should be right!” she called to him, tossing it across to him, hoping she was right this time.  She let out a breath of relief when he caught it deftly.  There had never been any doubt in her mind that he’d been lying about being a hunter, but watching him do his work made her want to close her eyes and turn away, especially at the scream the creature let out- desperate and agonizing.  It didn’t feel like Nell with the Ustra, or how she and the others had dealt with the reanimated corpses. The way Kaden killed the Vodnik felt much more final, but she supposed that when you were trained to kill your whole life, finality was to be expected.

The skin around ankle still stung like a bitch, and she still couldn’t tell up from down, but she was fine.  “I’m okay”, she nodded, watching in concern as he slunk to the ground.  She walked over to him quickly, and warm skin be damned, she placed her hands on his arms- gently, as if to get his attention.  He was freezing, and something gnawed in the deep precipice of her memory, begging to come through.  “Are you?”, she asked, tilting her head to try and make eye contact.

His first instinct was to push her away, refuse the help, soldier on by himself. It was what he always did, it was what he was supposed to do. But Kaden didn’t have enough energy to fight her help. He couldn’t tell if her skin was warmer than usual or if he was just that cold but it almost hurt it was so warm against his skin. The exact opposite of what he was used to whenever Regan or Morgan touched him. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. The thing was dead. That meant he should be okay. “We have to get out of here, there could be more. And the bally--” Kaden tried to push himself up off the forest floor and start marching ahead, but the trees looked sideways and his head was light and dizzy so he reached out to brace himself on her shoulder, trying to steady the world. It didn’t do a whole lot of good. “Back. Have to. Get there.”

“Woah, okay… Kaden, you need to stay sitting”, Leah said, trying to guide him back down.  “You’re… not, we-...” The bally.   Ballybogs?  That certainly explained why nothing seemed to make sense… had she had a run in with one before Kaden found her?  She looked back at him, her face questioning and full of concern.  “There’s something… we’re forgetting something, Kaden… it’s why you’re all out of whack.” Something about Vodniks that would explain why Kaden could barely speak.  She searched him for injuries, holding up an arm, tilting his head to look at his neck, moving his legs to make sure they had the proper dexterity… but everything was in perfect working condition. Everything except… his body temperature.   His skin was so cold. Oh!  “You’re hypothermic...” she said, squeezing his hands gently between hers.  “Common Vodnik tactic. Too much contact with its puddle, that’s why.”  She looked him over again, and with each passing moment, he seemed to be getting worse and worse.  She grabbed his wrist and felt for his pulse, and paled when she was met with one that was irregular and weak.  It was getting bad fast, and if she didn’t do something quick, he was going to die out here.  Letting out a nervous breath, she surveyed the area, and then she quickly pulled her coat off, draping it over him.

If you would have told her 4 months ago that she was going to do what she was about to for a hunter, she would have never believed you.  She would have told you that he got what he deserved for messing with a vodnik, that this is what hunters got for trying to play god on a daily basis with their sick cruelty.  But even as the images of Kaden blank faced and slitting the vodnik’s throat danced through her mind, her heart hurt at the idea of letting him die here. “Don’t worry”, she whispered, though she wasn’t sure he was processing anything she was saying.  She placed her hands on his arms once more, closing her eyes.  With expert precision, she released the heat from within her, feeling it flow from her hands and into Kaden, coaxing him back to the warmth of the world.

The words felt like they were going through cotton to get to reach his ears. Kaden furrowed his brow and tried to piece them together again, find the meaning through his haze. “Hypothermic?” he repeated, hoping maybe saying it aloud would help give it some more meaning. It sounded bad, it was bad. What it meant for real, he couldn’t say right then. He just knew he felt bad. And if that was bad, he had to trust her that was the bad thing happening right now. “N--no. You need your c-coat,” he said, teeth chattering as she put her coat on him. He wanted to refuse it, it was still winter and cold in Maine, she needed it. He would be fine. Just fine. Still, he didn’t have the energy to knock it off. He didn’t manage to reach his hand upwards before she took both of them in her own. Maybe he shouldn’t question it. She was clearly doing better than he was right now.

Kaden had no clue what was going on, what she could manage to do with her hands to cure him of whatever hypo-thing was happening to him. Wait. Was she magic? She said she couldn’t get wet. Did she think witches would melt like in the wizard of oz? But she wasn’t green. And they weren’t in Kansas. Or Oz. Thinking was still hard, but the heat coming from her hands felt like it was spreading, pushing its way through the rest of his body, almost as if someone had turned on a space heater and thawed him out. Slowly, he felt some of the fog lifting as the warmth settled in around him. His brow continued to crease as she continued to help. “Are you… what are you, exactly? Because I’m pretty sure librarians don’t normally do that.”

It was finished as quickly as it started, and Leah could tell just by glancing at Kaden that her plans to warm him up had worked and that he was feeling much better.   What she hadn’t expected were his questions so soon.  She was sure it’d take him a while to come to, so that Leah could formulate a believable enough explanation that would make sense to someone with as much supernatural knowledge as Kaden had.  She pressed her lips together, pulling her coat off of him and slipping it on, now a bit more aware of the frigid temperature now that she had given Kaden a good amount of her heat.  “Librarians don’t normally do what?”, she asked as she zipped it up slowly, avoiding his eye contact.  It was surely only a matter of time before he worked it out, and for once, she didn’t know how she felt about Kaden knowing what she was.  “What makes you assume I’m anything but human?”

“Function like a human space heater or get burned by water,” Kaden filled in as he wiped off his knife and put it back away in its sheath before standing again. “It was just water, right? I mean, I didn’t think vodniks shot acid but I could be…” He didn’t think he was wrong, though. Curious that she mentioned the word human. His head tilted to the side at her statement. Here he was assuming she was a spellcaster when it might be a touch more complicated than that. “Not much. Just, uh, well... that. What you just said.” He waited for the churn in his stomach, the unease of the thought of standing next to someone not human, a monster. But it didn’t settle in the way it once did. He was left feeling blank and a bit confused. Was that worse? Kaden didn’t know. There was guilt, or something like it creeping in. From what or why it was there, that he didn’t know.

“Vodniks don’t shoot acid”, Leah answered quickly, shoving her hands into her pockets.  She was going down an incredibly stupid path.  Alone, in the woods with a hunter, practically guiding him toward what she truly was.  Her family would practically disown her if they found out about it.  All the teachings churned through her mind, that hunters were awful- desperate for a kill and would turn you over for information or tears at a moment’s notice.  They were trickers and evil and wrong.  And Kaden proved that, right?  He was insufferable and a know-it-all and just incredibly broody in every sense of the word.  But then why did she feel a sense of trust toward him?  Why did she feel like she could tell him and he wouldn’t use it against her?  “It’s no secret between us that I’m aware of the supernatural, Kaden.  I just thought you were implying something, is all.  I guess my coat was just extra warm, that must have been what helped you.”

Kaden wasn’t sure why the lack of trust stung him. There was no reason he should care. And there was no reason for her to trust him. None at all, really. Sure he saved her from the vodnik, but that was just his obligation, just because of what he was. His training. He was a hunter. And he knew how she felt about those. About him. Maybe he should just shut up and be grateful that she didn’t let him die out there. “Yeah. Must have been,” he said, shuffling and not meeting her eyes. Still, he couldn’t leave well enough alone. “You know for a second I thought you might be like Bea. Considering, you know. Friends. All that.” That sounded stupid even to him as it left his lips. “Guess I was wrong. And it was just the coat. Nothing supernatural at all. Guess I should thank your coat and not you. In that case.” He wondered if she would take the bait. Probably not.

His hurt tone made Leah pause, but it was the mention of Bea that really caused a pang in her heart.  He was being so incredibly dramatic, as always, but he had never brought her up directly, before now.  She let out a huff and started walking out of the forest slowly, knowing he’d follow close behind.  After closing her eyes for a short moment, she began to open up, finally.  “You’re not far off, actually”, she started, clearing her throat awkwardly.  “When Bea and I were little girls we were total opposites- still are, in some ways.  Bea was confident and stood up for herself, and was always taught to be proud of what she was, and I was quiet and shy and would have rather folded into myself than given an oral report to the whole class.  And I can’t even remember how we discovered we could both start fires- can you imagine two tiny pyromaniacs on the elementary school playground?  That’s how I always picture it, now.  But it connected us, irrevocably and forever.  And it’s something that’s so purely part of each of us, but not for the same reason.  There were things she could do that I couldn’t, and vice versa.”

“But as a phoenix”, she glanced at him, only for a moment, desperate to read his reaction and desperate to hide from it at the same time, “I always knew it was important to hide who I am.  Not out of shame, but out of pride and protection.  In the same way that you were taught that the supernatural were dangerous, I was taught that hunters were.  Are.” She paused her speech, but kept walking, wary of the awkward silence that hung between them. “I almost brought you tears when I found out what happened with Agatha”, she admitted.

Kaden stood there blinking for a moment, stunned by the vulnerability Leah was displaying. He hadn’t even really asked for it. Alright, maybe he had poked for it at little, but it was more about her than she’d shared with him maybe ever. Here. In the woods. A few feet away from a dead vodnik and probably a few ballybogs now that he remembered. All he knew to do was stand there and listen. For a brief moment, he believed she was also a witch, just like Bea and Nell and Luce. Even Cece and once upon a time, like Morgan. But what she really was stunned him even more. “A what?” he blabbered before he could even think. He could have put the pieces together. In fact, he was almost there, but it just seemed unreasonable to think it was possible in a way. A phoenix? He knew a banshee (two, even, unfortunately) and now a phoenix. He couldn’t comprehend it. Both species that he was told were rare enough he’d likely never cross paths with one of them his whole life as a hunter. He could only manage to blink some more, trying to process what the hell he’d just learned and what it meant. And why he was now the sort of person who just accepted that and didn’t reach for a knife. “Oh,” was all he managed to say in response. “I… thanks. I-- I mean I heal pretty quick but, uh...:” Kaden shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down, to the left, right, anywhere but right at Leah. “That makes sense. You know. You and Bea. Now.”

Leah let out a long sigh, nodding.  It was over.  It was out, and there was no taking it back anymore.  She glanced at him again, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to call all of his hunter friends to come and kidnap her and her family for their tears and steal all the information in the scribary.  Well, he didn’t know about the scribary, did he?  But instead, she was just met with thanks.  Thanks, and maybe a bit of shock as well. “You have to understand why I haven’t exactly been… the warmest to you now, or comfortable sharing what I really am.  I don’t share it with anyone, really.  Which, ...please keep this between us, Kaden.”  She nodded, chewing on her lower lip anxiously.  “And I’ll do my best not to set you on fire”.  Her playful tone, she noted, was probably foreign in Kaden’s ears, but she hoped it shone through earnestly.  Suddenly the dog on the unicycle from earlier road around them, tipping its hat at her.  “I think I’m still hallucinating a bit…”, she said, her eyes wide as she waved back at him.

“Right, makes sense,” Kaden replied, still reeling a bit from everything she’d just told him. And even more so after she threatened him. But with a smile. Right. It was so easy to forget how dangerous she could be when talking to her. The same way it was easy for him to forget that Regan, Morgan, or Ari could be dangerous at times. It was the same trap he’d watch bleeding hearts fall into for years. And here he was, falling into it all on his own. He rolled his shoulders back, like he could shrug it off physically, whatever weirdness he was feeling. It didn’t go anywhere, but he could at least pretend it was all just a result of the hypothermia he’d felt earlier. “Yeah, try to keep that at a minimum, thanks,” he finally said back. With a sigh he started taking some shaky steps forward. “Let’s get out of here. For real this time. Should be this way. Come on. We’re going to avoid any and all mimes. Real or imaginary.”

[leam1983]

Felix the Reaper - Thoughts? Review?

Can't really go into too much detail, it's rather late as it is and the ol' bed is beckoning, but I also want to couch this down somewhere while it's still fresh...

So, Death as a concept - as a character - obviously permeates the whole of human civilization. You've got Anubis and Osiris, Humbaba the Undying, thousands of years of mythology surrounding the concept of life leaving you and your flesh-bits rotting, generation after generation of people processing grief in visual and abstract forms - and now, we're sort of living in a context where Death isn't really all that scary anymore. We understand it, we can push it back in some cases - and when we can't, then we can sort of map out its occurrence. What started as just this inexplicable force swiping at hunter-gatherers and that warranted Danse Macabre paintings across Medieval France is now something we can put an almost-precise date and time on. There's a bunch of "death clocks" online that project a potential DOD based on your age, gender, health status, habits and BMI; sort of turning the concept of memento mori into a shockingly literate manifestation.

You will die, one day. We're so aware of that that a bit of science and Web design wizardry can shit out a half-serious guesstimation of when it'll happen. Pre-Colonial aspects of Death survive in Mexican culture in the forms of both calaveras and the Santa Muerte cult, and the inevitability of death now even counts as a game mechanic in the SoulsBorne genre. You've got Terry Pratchett's extremely Humanist rendition of Death and, well, Hollywood faff à la Meet Joe Black. The short of it is we're far from the robe-wearing zombie we used to plop everywhere as a reminder of our own supposedly sinful urges or on the fleeting nature of youth.

Another item that's of interest is the notion of life and youth being represented as the Maiden - and of Death being in love with her. Sometimes, the affection isn't returned and disgust is shown. That's most of Holbein's death-related works, in this case. In others, the Maiden leans in, lets the skeletal figure push a hand underneath her skirt and against one of her thighs. They share a kiss, press against one another in the way honest lovers might. He's a dried-out corpse with a bloated midsection and she might've stepped out of some sixteenth-century church in the Netherlands, but their liplock is intense and genuine. In one statue, the Maiden looks like she might've just surrendered to the Reaper's arms, but her hands are also touching his scythe....

Eroticism, a commentary on suicide or plain acceptance - there's several ways to look at that duality, and it's even managed to worm its way over to cultures that don't natively have similar associations with human remains. The Japanese, for instance, do have their own Gashadokuro concept, but the locals of Nagasaki needed their initially-exclusive exposure to Portuguese traders to shrink down their massive skeletal eidolons of doom and to design woodblock prints where a Danse Macabre effectively meets the dress codes and habits of the locals under sakoku, or the Emperor-mandated closing-off of Japan to the outside world.

Death as a dancer. Death, especially, as a force that's quite lively, despite its attributes. A force that falls head-over-heels for Life in its own anthropomorphized form.

This is what Danish devs Kong Orange opted to work on in Felix the Reaper. Their Death has a human name, has a thing for the stuffier ends of Business Casual, is maybe eighty pounds overweight - and won't ever, ever, let the music die. He's also in love, obviously - and in love with Betty, the equally portly and nimble personification of Life. The pair look a bit like a Fernando Botero couple waiting to happen, with ample waists and sagging breasts held aloft by spindle-thin legs - but if Ghostbusters taught us not to cross the streams, then you can assume that Life and Death starting a tango in the same workspace could have severe coincidences on the biosphere. Not that Felix cares, he'd want nothing more than for Betty to notice him. His supervisor is voiced off-camera by Sir Patrick Stewart, who's as delightful as always, and who sort of plays the part of the well-meaning supervisor who eventually realizes his new employee's quirks don't diminish his potential.

And what is Felix's job, exactly? Well, he's Death. He's not getting paid to distribute hugs and kisses, obviously. He gets sent to the mortal plane to, well, kill people, and more specifically, to kill people in precise and pre-ordained ways. His "televator" takes him to an instant frozen in time, and he has to alter the surrounding scene so that once time resumes its course, the requisite accident or happenstance occurs. You do that by picking up items, flicking switches, and placing targets in the path of whatever it is that's set to kill them. You also move the sun around the world using a magical sundial doohickey, as Death can only move in shadows. You're basically Death in the same sense as in the Final Destination movies, except you really, really, really want to twerk and sashay your voluminous heinie through the small changes needed to turn a nothing-burger into a drunk huntsman getting his head stuck in the stump of a decapitated deer, so the dejected and near-sighted hunter you've been following mistakes him for a target and shoots his spear through his brain-case.

And yes, Felix does twerk and he certainly sashays. Dude dresses like a stuffy librarian, sure, but seemingly loses all inhibitions once his headphones come up - which allows the player to share in his personal soundtrack. This particular Reaper seems to have a thing for very bass-driven and samply EDM, with occasional forays into Ambient and Jazz. His many, many, many idle animations all sync with whatever it is that's playing, and so does the variety of prances, somersaults, grands jetés and twirls he goes through while moving from place to place. Comparatively, you get the sense that Felix's coworkers are more the dour and solemn type - with a few unsubtle cameos from Skeletor and Manny Calavera in the opening cinematic - and Felix, well...

Let's just say it's a wonder he has those hips and that paunch. If he twirls around for every little thing he does, then you'd assume he only sits down to hoover an Olympic athlete's worth of food once a day. Or maybe I'm overthinking things because, well, death.

And therein lies the problem, honestly. In thinking, I mean. Felix is a puzzle game through-and-through, and also ties into a Challenge system in order to really tickle those completionist nerves. The starting scenarios are braindead-easy, but the later ones left me stumped for fifteen minutes per screen. Add to that the notion that the game doesn't check off some of them as complete if you only do the bare essentials, and you're left with another would-be mobile offering that doesn't reach its endpoint until you exhaust every little bit it has to offer - even if you're effectively done with the main gameplay loop. It's a great game, but there's just not a whole lot to do in those six chapters, beyond repeating bits of drudgery until your noodle clicks or you give up and look up a solution online.

It's a shame, too. The isometric perspective is perfect, and the game could've been pitched as a hybrid between a puzzler and, say, XCOM: Enemy Unknown. You'd take cover to hide from moving targets or to escape daylight and instead of shooting at them, would emerge from cover to move items around or solve puzzle elements. You could've had Death evoke the illusion of a friendly face to inject some more concrete narrative delivery, for instance. Steal a friend's features, magically conceal yourself, and then have your target piece her own weaknesses together, leaving you to retreat and regroup before executing your plan of attack. But no, everything is out in the open and everything is spelled out for you. Kong Orange could've also stolen a page from Hitman Go and set multiple triggers in place to truly sandbox the experience.

What is there is fun - it oozes personality and charm - but there's just not enough of it to justify Steam's full asking price, IMO. Comparatively, the Switch's online store is currently running a sale for it (as of Sunday the 15th, at least) and lists it as being 2,15$. Two bucks for a few hours of harmless fun is a pretty good deal, as far as I'm concerned. It also underlines why the devs and Daedalic Entertainment alike consider it as having "bombed", as the marketing effectively targeted Devolver's usual stable. It's not crunchy enough, however, and not exactly irreverent enough to warrant that comparison. A more hefty Felix could've earned its full 20$ price point on PC - and Kong Orange's very design for Betty makes it obvious that if Felix ever returns, it'll be in a co-op setup with the love of his, well, unlife.

I'd be up for more of this cuddly, swinging skelly - assuming the devs mature a tad and put something together that's just a smidge more compelling.

[alicedrewbanks]

alice + jj / summer flashback

                                                 you can call me al – july 19th

Alice had never been denied books before and so she didn’t know how enraged she should be at these circumstances. Politeness took over her and she delicately repeated,

“But I’m going to be starting here after the Summer, so -,”

“As I’ve already said, it is only available to current students.”

“I can’t get books out from my school now though.” Alice persisted, speaking in an urgent whisper. “Please? I really don’t want to go to the community library.”

The thought of the lack of the books they had there made her shudder. The librarian sighed, turning to another customer, obviously growing bored of Alice. She stared sadly at the three books that sat on the desk – one on paranormal activity, one on planting and The Invisible Man.

“You can take them out on my card.”

Her head flicked in the direction of the voice and saw an older boy not even looking at her properly. She wasn’t used to speaking to older boys apart from Matt and his friends, so she didn’t even know how to take part in the conversation.

“Oh, no, I can’t do that.” She replied with an awkwardly polite laugh and a shake of a hand.

He finally looked at her and Alice was taken aback by the fact that not only was he an older boy, he was beautiful. She never really had an interest in boys before this, but could always appreciate someone’s beauty and he possessed beauty in abundance.

“No, really, it’s fine.”

He spoke in a low voice, but a little louder than Alice’s whisper.

“No, I mean, that would be against the rules.” She said with slightly raised eyebrows, smiling all the same. “But thank you.”

He smirked at her and the librarian turned away from her computer, speaking in an even tighter whisper than before.

“You are 160 days overdue on this book. The charge is £75.”

There was a silence and Alice looked between this boy and the librarian with great bemusement.

“What?” He said with no attempt at speaking in a low voice now. He laughed. “I just found this in my room and thought I was doing a good thing.”

An uncontrollable giggle left Alice. The librarian gave her a stern look causing Alice to try and get a handle on her laughing, but all she really noted was that the boy was looking at her with equal levels of bemusement. Now she was left with an uncontrollable blush.

Embarrassed at the colour, she pointed at the books, picking them up to return them to their correct places.

As she was placing the last of the books, The Invisible Man, back, she jumped at a face appearing behind the shelf.

“Sorry, sorry, I just wanted to let you know I’ve paid my debt to the library.” Alice smiled, turning her face down and away from him.

“Quite a high price tag for a book. I hope it was worth it.” He let out a small laugh.

“Can I speak to you without the shelf between us?”

They now had less space and shelves between them as Alice walked out the library, not wanting to break any more rules in her little place of worship.

“I’m Jay, by the way. Or JJ, lots of people call me that.” Jay announced when they were outside the library with the sun hitting his face and making it comparable to a statue in an art gallery glistening in the light. She took a breath.

Despite them living in a tiny village, she wasn’t familiar with this older, mysterious boy.

“I’m Alice. You can call me Al, but not many people do.” He laughed at her poor joke and it made her heart beat wildly.

“Like the song?”

Laughter sang between them and she nodded wildly.

“Just like the song.”

let’s hear it for the boy – july 29th

“A boy? A boy!”

All that George received for that was exasperation from Alice.

“Yes, a -,”

“Oh, shut up, George,” Millie hit his arm and turned back to Alice. “Tell us EVERYTHING!”

Normally it was Millie telling them everything about a boy she had met at a party or George privately telling her about his undying love for Millie. There was never anything Alice had to say about other people, it was always about her books or subjects or tea or music. This was so very different and she didn’t even know where to begin.

“Yeah, start with what boy it is.” George continued, rubbing at the spot where Millie had hit him.

“Well, his name is JJ and -,”

“JJ? As in Jay Jhaveri?” George asked, looking more alert.

“You know him?”

“Know him? He is dreamy and so much older than us – Ally, you like an older boy? Where would you have met him? At a party? If you’ve gone to your first ever party without me then I will SCREAM -,”

“Mills -,”

“We met at the library.”

“That day you were supposed to meet us at the library?”

Alice provided George with a sheepish smile, them both knowing now that she had ditched their planned true crime documentary marathon, so she could spend the day with JJ.

“So it’s been two weeks?”

“One week and three days?” Alice responded, carefully trying to sound like she hadn’t keeping track.

“What have you guys done? Are you still a virgin?”

“Millie, heck, of course I am!”

Millie shrugged.

“Being older he’ll want sex sooner than guys our age.” She said matter-of-factly. She turned to George, “How long would you wait?”

“I’ve been waiting 16 years. I’m good at waiting.”

Millie raised her hand as if he had proven her point.

She wondered if Millie was right. ‘Boys’ was not something Alice had any knowledge on. Maybe she should find a book on them.

“Anyway,” She changed the subject, suppressing her fear on how these things worked. “You both know of him? What do you think?”

George filled his air up with cheeks and puffed them out slowly.

“I think this is so cute! You seem like an unlikely couple, but if you like him – we need more details! Spill, spill, spill.” Millie squealed, but Alice kept her eyes focused on George causing Millie to turn and stare at him too. He felt both sets of eyes on him and waved his hands wildly.

“Yeah, well, he is cool, I guess… but he is much older than us? What, like eighteen?”

“Nineteen…” Alice said in a small voice. “Nobody else knows about us right now and I’m only telling you two, because we know about the age gap. When I turn seventeen, which is very soon, then we won’t hide it. He’s just… lovely.”

George eventually nodded.

“Well, if you’re happy.”

                                                i think we’re alone now – august 3rd

They skipped the song by Joy Division and it went to Africa by Toto. They only listened to the happy and silly songs together.

One earphone each.

Her head was resting on his shoulder with his arm wrapped tightly around her. The sun was beating down on them. This was how summer slipped away – in the space between his arm and torso.

“Can I ask you something?” She softly edged her head up so he knew she was listening. “If the rules were different with the library, would I have even stood a chance with you?”

She laughed so much that she shook his chest and then his laughter shook her. That was how they moved, one after the other.

“Maybe in a parallel universe I did get those books and we never even spoke.” She mused softly and he let out a long sigh.

“Oh, I’m glad I live in this universe then.” He shifted slightly, moving to his bag. “I did note though that one of the books was this? Hopefully it was this anyway.”

She pushed herself up to be leaning on her elbow and took The Invisible Man out of his hands.

“I didn’t realise you were paying such close attention…” She stared at the book in amazement.

“Yeah, yeah, you’d think I just wouldn’t remember anything about the day I met you.” She laughed again, feeling suddenly shy and embarrassed.

“I think even in the parallel universe where I get those books, you would still have an overdue book and I would still laugh at you…”

“So I wouldn’t be replaced with a library?”

“Wait, no, nobody replaces a library for me. Libraries are my holy ground, my church, my safe place. All people are second place.” She laughed lightly, leaning back into his chest, feeling something tighten in his body ever so slightly.

“I don’t really have a safe place like that. I guess my flat is now, but it’s not really a home.”

It made Alice feel sad. Very, very sad.

He just wanted a home.

She understood that JJ had a hard life and it was one she would never be able to relate to. She also knew there were rumours about the life he had been leading and company he was keeping, but again she couldn’t relate to that. She did know that the person he was with her was who he was or wanted to be and sometimes people were put in hard positions in life.

She put her hand on his chest and circled the general area of his heart.

“This can always be your safe place. Right in the middle of a field, listening to music and, if you like, being with me.” She looked up at him and watched as his eyes moved to focus on hers. Something told her that the answer touched him.

She could never understand a life as difficult as his, but she wanted him to know an easier life even if it was just when they were together.

                                                              drive – august 16th

She had never even touched herself before and now his hand was on her. It felt like pure ecstasy and she didn’t want the feeling to ever end. Eventually her hand was gripping at his shirt and her eyes were closing, the last image of his lovely face in her head, as she moaned out, shaking out the feeling of the joy. Her eyes opened again and she was gasping again.

“What the heck?” She asked all breathy and bewildered. He searched her face, his smile reaching his eyes as he kissed her softly.

“You uh… liked it then?”

She shook her head, still unable to get over the shaking in her toes.

“I… have no words.”

He removed his hand from underneath her summer dress and touched her tingling skin.

“Are you cold?”

“A little.”

He kissed her again and rolled over pulling a sweater out for her. She sat up, pulling it over her head. Another present from him.

He groaned putting his head in his hands as she untucked her hair from it.

“What’s wrong?”

She furrowed her eyebrows in equal parts confusion and amusement.

He peeked out from his hands.

“You have no idea how perfect you look right now. Ugh… I just… I like you in my sweater.”

She laughed.

“I like being in your sweater.”

“I’m sorry, my place does not deserve to have you in it.”

She took his face in her hands and shook her head.

“I’ve told you before, I think it’s charming.”

They stared at each other, their faces so close. It was something they were doing more frequently these days. Staring at each other in intense silences. Whenever they did it Alice was tracing the outline of his features so she could remember them perfectly for when she went to sleep. She liked to think he was doing the same.

“I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel.”

He groaned loudly, breaking all the silence.

“Ah fuck, Al, I’m going to take you home before I get carried away.”

Alice bit down on her smile. She had never spoken like that before and felt suddenly powerful over him. She did really want to make him feel good as well, even though she had no idea how to do that. His reaction made her want to try.

                                                        -------------------------------

As they sat in his car, parked around the corner from her house and with the windows all steamed up from them kissing, she was sure nobody would see them.

He pulled away and then moved back in for another kiss and then another and then he finally sat back properly in the driving seat with his hands on the wheel and shook his head.

“You really should go in, because I don’t want to be the guy who keeps you past your curfew.”

“Okay, okay, dad.”

He rested his head on the wheel watching her carefully again and she thought they might fall back into staring at each other, but then he spoke.

“I meant what I said earlier, you know. You’re fucking – I mean, you’re perfect. You’re just an angel and I don’t know what the… heck… what the heck you’re doing with me, but you are.”

“JJ, you’re -,”

“I love you, Alice Banks.”

She stopped and stared right into the face of this beautiful boy and this felt like all the romantic classics she had read and read and now it was happening to her.

“I love you too.”

                                                   you can’t hurry love – august 25th

“You want to take it outside?” Matt was in the doorway of her room pretending to punch the air. When she looked up from hurriedly hiding away her lip gloss that she had been applying, she saw he was holding a book in front of him.

“Mmm… I can’t today – I’m going over to Millie’s for this thing.”

Matt let out a low whistle, stepping further into the room.

“You know you’re the world’s worst liar, right?”

Wringing her hands in her lap and then hitting them against her forehead, she nodded.

“I am completely aware of that fact.”

Matt took a seat next to her, almost giddy in his energy.

“Well, I thought I was coming here for a traditional summer afternoon, so you now must pay the price of your secret.”

He spoke in a dramatic voice and ended it with an evil laugh. She rolled her eyes.

Taking a deep breath, she readied herself for telling him the only secret she had ever had to keep.

“Firstly, we just got back from our holiday two days ago, so I am not buying the disappointment,” She took another breath, looking at Matt directly, so it didn’t look like there was any reason to be nervous. “Secondly, I’ve kind of been dating someone this summer and -,”

Matt gasped.

“George?”

Alice’s face contorted into pure confusion.

“What? No?”

“Come on, that’s going to be the natural assumption.”

“Hmm… I don’t see how… Anyway,” She had to ready herself again. “I’m dating this boy called Jay, well, JJ, and he’s -,”

“What?” Matt’s face was now far from being excited about this news. Maybe George was the only acceptable person for Alice in his eyes. “JJ?”

“You know him?”

His face tightened and he took some time to reply.

“I know of him. He’s the guy who hangs around Owen Summers?” He put his head in his hands and sighed.

Alice did know that he was friends with him as she had looked at his Instagram and there was that time when her Dad was driving her back from Millie’s one night and she saw JJ and Owen in a car. She had noticed him immediately and he looked like a completely different person to the one she knew from summer walks and bedroom talks, but then he saw her and softened around the edges. She smiled at him then and he did the same, getting softer still.

“How did you even get caught up in that?”

She looked down into her lap, feeling small all of a sudden.

“And how old is he?”

“I’m going to be turning seventeen in a week; it’s only a two year difference.”

“Yeah, sure, that makes it all fine!”

Alice shook her head at Matt getting up from the bed in anger.

“Matt, he’s a good person, no, a great person. Just because he has a few bad friends doesn’t make him a bad person – he’s not like that. I love him and I thought you would be able to trust my judgment. Have I ever been wrong about someone before?” She stopped, pleading with her eyes, imploring Matt to respect her decision. “Do you know something about him?”

Matt sighed, turning away from her and then immediately coming back, kneeling at her feet.

“No, no, I don’t, I just -,”

“Then listen to me.” She spoke with a firmness that she was sure Matt wasn’t used to hearing from her unless they were in a heated political debate and it was never directed at him.

He nodded his head slowly.

“I will, I trust you.” He softened, pulling her in for a hug. “Come on, you know it’s my job to protect you.”

                                                love will tear us apart – august 30th

She walked up to JJ in the playground that surprisingly didn’t have any children in it despite it being a hot day. There was an unshakable giddiness in her stomach at all of this. It was the first time they were meeting in daylight so close to possible people who could see them. How could she not think of their future together and how this could be them all the time? It was almost her birthday and she was hoping he would come to the celebration with George, Millie and her family.

He was sat in the swings as she practically skipped up to him.

“Hello, beautiful,” She giggled, delicately taking one of his hands. Suddenly she felt very shy being in public with him.

“Uh…” He looked up at her and her face immediately changed to one of concern.

“What’s wrong?”

There was a silence that could have lasted a little while longer for Alice. In the silence, he was still hers.

“I need to talk to you.” She let go of his hand and took a step back. How could she not see this coming? “I just… I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

It didn’t make sense.

There could be so many reasons why he would want to end it or the reasons why he couldn’t possibly want to end it, but she could only think of one.

“You said you loved me -,”

She was already crying.

“I didn’t mean it.”

She exhaled sharply. He wasn’t looking at her. There was nothing else she needed to hear from him.

He didn’t mean it.

With tears she didn’t try to wipe away, she turned and stormed off. He didn’t deserve to hear anything else from her and she didn’t deserve to be lied to by him.

“Alice, I -,”

At the faint sound of his voice calling after her, she walked faster so she couldn’t hear what he was trying to say.

He didn’t mean it.

[duskowithapen]

Five Times Eve Baird Said Jump

Fandom: The Librarians

Relationship: Platonic Eve Baird and Cassandra Cillian

Read on AO3

Read on Fanfiction

Read Part One

Part Two

CILLIAN

Cass thought that the whole ‘jumping from a great height’ was just a one-time thing. It wasn’t. At least she had something softer to land on than Ezekiel did. Originally for Writer’s Month Day 13: Music

“Why can’t I ever go to a museum for normal reasons!” Eve lamented, and Cassandra hid a wince.

“Uh…”

“Don’t answer that!” Eve snapped, banging on the locked door once more before turning around to survey the cramped storage room. “Alright, please tell me that you worked out exactly how that grave robber was controlling the rock dudes?”

“Dr Nair’s not a grave robber, he’s an archaeologist,” Cass explained, “And as far as I can tell, the lute is like a remote. Playing the right notes in the right order wakes the shabti up, and then another set of notes makes them obey the player.”

“Archaeologists are just legal grave robbers,” Eve muttered as she started pulling at a half-open cabinet. Cassandra took her place at the door, leaning down to look at the lock. It’s times like this that she wished Ezekiel was here.

The Clipping’s Book had sent her and Eve to the Grand Egyptian Museum. It wasn’t finished yet – the building was mostly completed bar the outside cosmetic stuff, but the interior and exhibits still had a lot of work to be done on them before the grand opening. The article had been about the newest archaeological find that was to be the crowning piece of the opening – the largest collection of intact shabti, life sized and incredibly detailed, along with intact musical instruments and scrolls containing Pashedu’s dissertations on magic. It was those dissertations that put them into this mess. Eve and Cass had only been in the museum for maybe ten minutes, dodging escaping construction workers and archivists before being caught by the shabti and their master.

Dr Rashida Nair, the main archaeologist in charge of the dig, had been quite upset with how his finds were being treated and accredited. None of his colleagues believed in the myths of Heka’s Lute – a 19th Dynasty instrument given to artesian Pashedu. The deity of magic, before Isis gained that domain, was so impressed with the mans’ skill that he granted Pashedu the ability to bring them to life with the lute. Dr Nair decided to prove his colleagues wrong and regain Pashedu’s dissertations at the same time. Cass had been able to decipher that much from Dr Nair’s research notes before the man himself found them.

A loud crash shocked Cass out of her reverie. Eve stood before the cabinet, now on its side, with hands on her hips. In the wall, almost level with the ceiling and almost two metres over Eve’s head, was an air duct. “What do you say to getting out of here, Cass?”

She walked to Eve’s side and frowned. “Uh, I don’t know if I can get up there.” While she’d become a lot fitter in her time as a Librarian – thanks to her drill sergeant of a Guardian – she wasn’t exactly a gymnast.

“You can if you climb on my shoulders,” Eve said, already crouching.

That was easier said than done.

Cass wobbled on Eve’s shoulders, feet wrapped around her back and fingers probably holding onto the blonde hair a lot harder than necessary. “I really don’t feel very comfortable up here!” Her mind immediately flickered to all the ways this could go wrong – how injured they would both get if she fell – what would happen if they landed on the corner of the cabinet –

“I’m not going to drop you, Red. Trust me.” Eve still sounded way too nonchalant as she stepped onto the cabinet, hands wrapped around Cass’ calves. “If you stand, do you think you could unscrew the vent?”

She squinted. “Yeah, I’d just need something like…” One of Eve’s hands moved away from her leg, making her yelp, and reappeared with a Swiss army knife.

“This?”

“Yes, that’s perfect!” Cass squealed and waved her arms as Eve’s hands grabbed her feet and pushed upwards. After a moment, she recovered enough to press her hands against the wall and look down. Eve glanced up with a smirk.

“You gotta stand on my shoulders, Red.”

“But you could give me a little more warning first,” Cass grumbled. Eve’s hands stayed around her calves as she balanced on strong shoulders. She started on the screws, dropping each one into her pocket.

“I really need to get you your own pocketknife, same with Stone, if he doesn’t already. Everyone should have one. Although I’m pretty sure Jones has it covered with his lock picks…”

Cass pulled out the final screw and tugged at the vent grille, almost dropping it in surprise. It was lighter than she thought it would be. Carefully, almost overbalancing, she balanced it on top of the cabinet further in the corner. “Alright, now what?”

“Now, we crawl.” Eve grabbed Cass’ feet again and pushed.

She yelped. The air vent seemed a lot smaller now that she was trying to climb into it. It took a lot of wiggling to get herself in there, since the duct was only about five centimetres wider than her shoulders on either side. Once her legs were in, Cass twisted onto her side as best as she could and looked back. “Again with the no warning!”

There was a huff of laughter. “Sorry, Red!”

“How are you going to get up?”

Eve didn’t answer. Cass heard a handful of footsteps, a bang of shoe against metal, a grunt and suddenly there were hands on the edge of the vent. A couple of soft thuds reverberated through the wall as Eve used her feet to help propel herself upwards, before her face appeared in the opening. As Eve pulled herself the rest of the way in, Cass took a moment to admire the play of light and shadows against the muscles of her arms. Even though she sees Eve as an older-sister/mother figure, she could still appreciate a strong woman – she’d always been a little weak for them.

After a moment of struggle, Eve was fully in the vent, blocking the light with her broader shoulders. “Okay. Cass? Think you could work out how to get to the roof from here? I’m pretty sure Nair’s got a helicopter up there – the rock dudes were taking the scrolls upstairs, not down.”

“Well, the room they put us in was on the ground floor, south side based on how the light was coming in through the windows as we passed…” Cass mused to herself. In the close confines of the vent, she couldn’t indulge in the full extent of her synaesthesia, but she could still see the building floor plans Ezekiel had found for her. He’d been bitter about being kept back by the cold he’d gained from his and Eve’s dip into the Indian Ocean, but he could still hack into the museums systems. “Considering the building layout, the size of the lower exhibition halls, the current level of construction and the position of the loading dock compared to where we are… if we head straight along this duct, then take the second – no, third left, that will lead us to the larger main vent that runs straight from the main lobby of the museum to the loading dock. They haven’t finished the north wall, so the vent will open up there. We can get out and use the outer scaffolding to reach the roof. That should stop Dr Nair or the shabti from noticing us.”

A hand clasped her ankle for a moment. “Well, lead on Red. Let’s go stop a grave robber.”

As the two started army crawling through the vents, Cass heard Eve mutter – “I honestly thought I’d be dealing with mummies when I said that…”

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

Cass had a much better appreciation for Ezekiel if this is what he went through on some of his heists. She was regretting wearing a short-sleeved top now, with her elbows red and raw from the crawl through the vents, and her knees aching under her tights. Eve seemed to be faring better, but the back of her shirt was damp with sweat, and there were bleeding grazes up the back of her upper arms. She’d saved Cass from falling a dozen metres into a ventilation shaft leading to the basement when she hadn’t noticed the gap in the vent. The grazes came from her lunge to catch Cass’ waist, and then the desperate pull upwards. They’d both been a lot more careful after that.

Eve nudged her. “Ready to start climbing?”

Looking up, Cass swallowed. The scaffolding resembled a fire escape – metal platforms connected by ladders – but a lot skinnier and creakier. “No,” she sighed, “But we’re going to be doing it anyway.”

The climb wasn’t as nerve wracking as Cass thought it would be. Eve climbed up after her, in case she slipped, and as long as she didn’t look down, it was almost fun. Partway up, as they inched across a beam to get to the next ladder, Eve tapped her. “Hey Red, what’s that?”

Cass squeezed past the pillar of large orange buckets and smiled. “It’s a waste thing, I think. Jake was telling me about them. It’s so that the builders can send waste down without having to carry it – kinda like a garbage disposal.” The long tube was made out of buckets as wide as the chutes had been inside, all stacked together with the bottoms removed.

“Huh.”

Then they cleared the last ladder.

The building was shaped vaguely like an angled rectangle. The back of the museum was wider than the front, and the connected front courtyard extended far enough to make the entire thing look like a triangle without the point. The roof itself was made up of six upward-angled roof sheets, running perpendicular to the front of the museum, resembling a fan. In the middle was a row of concrete sheets, splitting the museum into front and back and angled opposite to the rest of the roof. This was where Dr Nair had set up his helicopter. A line of shabti holding scrolls were slowly climbing out of a maintenance hatch under the musical instructions of the doctor.

Eve tapped her. “Okay, if I make a distraction, do you think you could get the lute off the doctor and, I don’t know, turn the shabti off?”

Cass frowned. “Maybe… Magic tends to follow the concept of duality, so if I play the activation notes backwards, it should stop the shabti.”

“Should? I don’t like should.” Despite her joking tone, Eve looked concerned.

“I am relatively sure. Worst case, it does nothing.”

“If it doesn’t work, you might need to break the lute,” Eve said after a moment. She spoke over Cassandra’s protests. “I know, preserving history and all that, but we need to stop these shabti, so let’s hope that your music theory works.”

“Alright…” The reverse notes would work – just like the natural world, magic follows a set of rules, and according to those rules all Cass would have to do was reverse the notes. She liked rules. They were like quadratic equations or linear functions – they had one right answer. No grey areas.

“Anyway, I’m going to head to the other side of the roof – once I get to that roof section there,” here, Eve pointed at the section one space from the furthest edge, “I want you to head along this side and duck behind the raised section the helicopter’s on. Once I see you there, I’ll distract the shabti long enough for you to get the lute.” There was a pause, and Eve glanced at her from the corner of her eye. “Are you going to be okay getting the lute?”

Cass knew Eve was thinking about the last time Cass played distraction, and the injury she’d gotten. Frustration made her tone sharper. “I’ll be fine Eve. I can handle one archaeologist.”

A calming hand rested on her shoulder. “I know you can Cass. I just – I’m always going to worry about you. Same with Jones and Stone. Same with Jenkins, same with Flynn. You guys are my charges. I’ll always be concerned.”

“I know that,” Cass responded, “But you’re also going to have to trust us to do our job. I can handle this.”

Eve gave her a sharp nod and breathed in deep. “Alright. Remember, wait until I get to that fifth section, and then go.”

The two women split, and Cass watched with envy as Eve steadily, gracefully, crept along the edge of the roof. The second her feet hit the fifth section, Cass was off. Her steps may not have been quite as sure, but she still made a steady pace towards the helicopter. Dr Nair wasn’t paying attention to anything but the scrolls and his lute, fingers picking at the strings almost absentmindedly as he barked orders at the shambling shabti. The sound of heavy stone feet hitting the concrete roof masked any noise Cass could make. Hidden behind the last section, she wondered about what kind of distraction Eve would make. Eve always had a gun on her, so maybe she’d shoot something? Or maybe she’d use something else – in her time as Guardian, Eve had learned the importance of not damaging artefacts, so she might try something that wouldn’t harm the shabti. There was some construction stuff on the far edge, perhaps she’d throw something?

As it was, all of Cass’s guesses were way off. Eve sprinted towards the helicopter, not trying to hide her approach in any way. At the last minute, she veered around a shabti, snatched the scroll it held, and sprinted across the roof. As she ran past Cass’s hiding place, Eve shot her a wink.

“Hey, Doctor!” She yelled, “I’m pretty sure this scroll is valuable – be a shame if I tore it!”

“Shabti!” Dr Nair screamed, strumming a rapid tune on the lute, “Stop that woman! Collect the scroll without damage!”

Instantly, the shabti dropped whatever they were holding and ran towards Eve with all the speed they could muster – which, admittedly, wasn’t much.

“I read somewhere that papyrus dissolves in vinegar – maybe I should test it!” Eve yelled in response, darting to the edge of the roof. With a wave, she jumped off the edge. Cass stifled her shock with her hand. Eve is fine, she reassured herself, there’s probably scaffolding on the other side, she’s just jumped down a level or something. She’s fine.

Most of the shabti were gone now, with the last of them only a few metres away. Cass took her chance.

Dr Nair only noticed her arrival as the lute slipped from his hands. It was a surprisingly heavy instrument, Cass noticed as she stumbled away. The doctor lunged at her, but suddenly Eve was there, catching his arms and locking them behind his back.

Not for the first time, Cass wondered what the hell Eve learned in the military.

“Play the notes!” Eve shouted, one eye on the shabti who had reversed their path and were now headed in their direction.

It should be noted that Cass has never really played an instrument before. Once her parents realised how mathematically and scientifically inclined she was, things like the creative arts – music, painting, dancing, drama – all slipped to the wayside. Thankfully, the activation notes for the shabti weren’t the most difficult piece of music to play… and the ancient Egyptian lute only had two strings. Her fingers slid along the long neck of the lute, tassels tickling her arm. Cass winced as the strings tore at her fingers, but that first note still rang out.

The shabti stopped.

Another note, with fingers just a little bit higher. A longer note with fingers closer to the oval-shaped body of the lute. A couple of quick notes – not as quick as the doctor was able to play them, but a close enough facsimile – higher than others played. The whole tune was a discordant mess, given that it was being played backwards, but Cass was pleased to see that it seemed to be working.

As the final note was strummed, the doctor was shocked out of whatever stupor he had fallen into. “You idiots! You’ve destroyed everything!”

Eve hauled him around and let him go, putting herself in between Cass and the archaeologist who was practically frothing at the mouth. “I’m pretty sure the museum will see it just a little differently considering we’ve stopped you from running off with their artefacts.”

Dr Nair laughed hysterically, backing further down the roof. “You have no idea what you’ve done, do you? What you just played wasn’t to turn them off or whatever you thought it was – it was to destroy them.”

Cass’s breath caught in her throat. Magic lies on duality. The activation notes didn’t turn the shabti on, it brought them to life. By reversing the notes… Cass essentially ordered them to die. Spinning around, she saw the shabti, still clustered around them and the helicopter, started to glow. Orange lines etched themselves into the hieroglyphics and filled their eyes. Even as she watched, the orange seemed to grow darker.

Eve grabbed her arm. “Cass, we need to go!”

Further down the roof, the doctor had already gotten to the maintenance hatch – it slammed shut inches in front of Eve’s fingers. She could barely hear Dr Nair’s laughter. A frown pulled at her face. “Well, that was rude.”

Then Cass was being pulled away again, back to where they got to the roof in the first place. Glancing down at the lute still in her hand, she went pale. She had brushed up on a little ancient Egyptian before coming here – and those looked a lot like a countdown etched in glowing orange on the bowl of the instrument. “Uh, Eve?”

“Cass, we need to hurry up!” Eve started to climb down the scaffolding, but Cass pulled her back.

“We’re not going to have time!” She waved the lute closer to her Guardian’s face, and when there was no comprehension, she huffed. “This is a countdown!” And they didn’t have very much time.

Eve glanced down for a second, then to her left. A strange look came over her face. “Cass, we’re going to need to jump.”

My Guardian has gone mad. “Eve, are you crazy?! That’s like a twenty-metre drop!”

“Not if we take the slide.” And then Eve had an arm around her waist and was pulling her over the edge. The thump of their feet hitting the scaffolding made Cass’s teeth rattle. To their left was a bright orange bucket-tube.

“Oh no. No, no, no!” Cass looked on helplessly as Eve guided herself into the tube.

“It’ll be okay Cass. I’ll catch you at the bottom if I need to.” And then Eve was gone. The tube shuddered. There was the echo of Eve crying out in… excitement?

Cass sighed. Of course her Guardian was an adrenaline junkie. A flash of orange caught her eye. There was a curved squiggled shape on the lute. Nine. It changed. Eight. Again. Seven. Cass shuffled into the tube. Held the lute to her chest. Took in a deep breath.

Eve’s voice came from the depths of the tube.

“Just jump Cass!”

She jumped.

At the bottom, she spluttered as she sunk into a sand dune. After a moment, Eve’s smiling face appeared above her with a helping hand. “That was fun, right?”

No one would blame her for immediately tugging her Guardian into the sand and trying to bury her, right?

[chefrat]

it’ll get better

pairings: reader X whoever you want it to be

type: angst 

word-count: 2.7k

warnings: cursing, angst, bad marriage 

A/N: wrote this after seeing my mom go through her third divorce in under a decade, also I’m kind of new to this whole writing thing but I found it relaxing so why not 

Marriage is not always easy, you could ask anyone who had been married and they would most likely agree. Of course, the both of you knew it wasn’t going to be easy at all. If your relationship was already rocky from the beginning then it obviously wouldn’t be smooth during marriage. You kept telling yourself, ‘it'll get better.’. Repeating it non-stop even when you would go to bed. The nights he would come home after work without even saying a word, you felt like a wall to him. Just invisible but you thought to yourself, ‘it’ll get better.’. And some days, it felt like it would. Some days he was that loving man you met that day in your local library. It started with stolen glances, you were way too shy to say anything to him. He was delightful to look at, a handsome man with a sweet look in his eyes whenever he smiled. It took weeks for either one of you to say anything, of course the first move was done by him after days of reading near each other, he couldn’t ignore the energy that radiated off you. Maybe that energy he saw in you once had run out, it made you sad thinking that the love he probably had for you was no longer there. That was the thing about him, when you shared your worries with him he was convincing, letting you know that it would be okay, that it would get better. 

When he first started working extra hours of course it made you sad, thoughts gnawing you, thinking to yourself that he was probably trying to get away from you. ‘For our future, babe. What if one day we have kids and need the extra money?’ In a way he was right, but kids? Oh, of course you wanted children! He was actually the only one who felt awkward about the subject, talking about having kids always made him nervous or as he would put it ‘We’re still young, I doubt we’ll have any soon’, it made you question his true intentions. But you tried your best to make him comfortable, dropping the subject and never bringing it up unless he would which was never. Some mornings he would wake you up with a hand around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest feeling his breath tickle the nape of your neck making you sigh in content. ‘Maybe he still loved me.’ And some mornings, you awoke to an empty bed, it seemed like he didn’t have time to say a goodbye. Confused by the mixed signals he would send, you continued to tell yourself, ‘it'll get better.’. 

The day he left for work without his wedding ring you brushed it off, thinking he probably was in a rush. It happened again a few times until he had given up on picking up the silver ring that weighed him down. You were quick to notice and it absolutely pained you. There were days he would hug you from the back while you stood in front of the bookshelf you guys had in the hallway, trying to read the spines of the many books you had collected throughout your relationship together but the tears in your eyes blurred you vision. The burning in your eyes and the aching in the pit of your stomach, you felt horrible all-over. He would ask you why you were upset, it hurt him hearing your small cries and it hurt him even more knowing that he was the cause of your pain. Maybe it was selfish of him, only showing he cared when he knew he was responsible. Maybe if he played his role as the husband better then it would make him less of the bad guy. “Please, don’t cry. It’ll get better.” 

It was December, Christmas Eve to be exact and his mother expected the both of you to make it for dinner. The drive was only three hours, nothing huge but the thought of being with him in the same car for three hours made you nervous. It’s probably been weeks that you haven’t been in the same room as him for more than three hours other than sleeping. You brought a book and earphones to distract you, not ready for confrontation. Before you could even get in the car he already had music playing, not too low nor too high but enough to block out any form of conversation from happening. This time you weren’t sad but angered but again, always the pacifist in the relationship you decided to ignore it. Glad to have the earphones in hand to block out the music he chose. It was pathetic, like two kids arguing and giving each other the silent treatment. You couldn’t help but notice that he decided to wear his wedding ring that day. Biting your tongue, you tried your best from asking him, why, trying not to sour the mood that was already so depressing. 

The mood shifted once he parked in front of his moms house, with a sigh he lowered the music. He starred at the stirring wheel for what felt like hours but was only minutes. Sighing again, he planted a smile on his face and turned to look at you. “Ready?” You felt your eyebrow tick, the nerves getting to you and his coldness just making it worse. With a nod, you continued on not meeting his eye but instead desperate to reach for fresh air. The wave of fresh air after opening the car door calmed you. You’ve met his family before, this wouldn’t be any different so why were you feeling like this. Well, it would be different to spend this dinner while the both of you failed to communicate with each other. You both walked toward the front door, his hand grazed yours as you walked making you cough out and cross you arms. 

Dinner wasn’t as awkward as you thought it would be, he tried his best to talk to you and to make you comfortable which you appreciated but it reminded you again on how selfish he was. He didn’t want to be seen as the bad guy, not in front of his family so he played his role well. His older sister sat next to you, whispering to you gossip from her work place. Thankful that she was there to distract you from her horrible brother. “So, how’s it been at home? I hope he’s treating you well.” You didn’t need to look over to him to know he was side eyeing you guys, as if to keep you on track on the show you guys were putting on. “It’s been great actually! He’s been nothing but a gentlemen. Sure, some things have gotten rough but that’s marriage, right? It’ll get better.” The smile on your face hurting the corners of your lips, it’s been so long since you’ve smiled like this, even if it was false. It was a clear sign for help, a sign that your relationship has been nothing these past seven months. But she wasn’t able to catch on, she only smiled in approval. 

January rolled by and nothing has changed much except that you had started a new job only without letting him know. He wasn’t at home that much so he wouldn’t notice your absence. And, starting a job isn’t a horrible thing but you still didn’t know how to feel about the tingling feeling in your chest, scared of being yelled at. The new job was simple, nothing too hard or too basic either. You’d be starting as a part time librarian at a local university. Why not surround yourself with the things that relax you, right? You dressed for the job and made your way to start a new chapter in your life. Sure, you’ve had others job before but when you married, he had wanted to take care of you and keep you at home. He ignored your pleas to let you find a job, soon you stopped asking and instead embraced being kept away from the world. Maybe it was the wrong move to get a job behind his back but with how your relationship has gone there’s really nothing to share between the both of you. 

The job was simple, you were quite knowledgeable in the area and able to find your way through the library quickly. Students poured in and out, some in groups and some by themselves. You couldn’t help but feel content with the new job, something that kept your mind off from what awaited you at home. A strained and sad relationship, feelings that were once so well recognized but now so foreign to you. The thought of it made your smile falter but you quickly pushed it to the back of your mind. For your first day of training you did pretty good, satisfied with how your work had ended you headed off to the nearest coffee shop to reward yourself with a cup of warm coffee. You glanced at the clock, 5:19 PM. Still enough time to make it home before he would, he usually would make it around seven-ish or so, so you weren’t worrying. 

It continued like that for a few months, him never suspecting a thing and still not finding the energy to wear his wedding ring. You didn’t expect it from him anymore until he noticed you weren’t wearing yours either. “Hey, and your ring?” He asked during dinner while you gripped the fork with a bare hand. “Oh, must of forgot to put it on while washing my hands.” His teeth bit down on his bottom lip but hummed in response. Dinner continued with tension in the air, it made you nervous how quiet it was after a while. Minutes passed until he stood up with a plate barely touched. He threw the food into the garbage and gently put the plate into the sink. “I’m sorry, I lost my appetite.” You turned you attention back to your plate, gripping the fork until your knuckles turned white, holding in tears. Biting your tongue until a sharp pain went through you and a metallic taste teased your tastebuds, mixing with the current dish you were dining. The dining room was empty other than yourself and your aching heart, you allowed a fear tears to slip through. A rough sob prepping itself in your throat but you muffled it by bringing the back of your hand against your lips. “It’ll get better.” You whispered, rubbing your tears away. 

Things started to make you feel more anxious when he suggested couples therapy through dinner that you prepared and had begged him to come home early from work so you wouldn’t be sat alone at the dining room table again that week. He looked you in the eye, after months of rarely any contact at all. Hearing him suggest couples therapy gave you hope, maybe he did want to work it out with you. Or maybe, divorce was too much paper work for him. Maybe he rather learn to live with you than having to go through the whole process of falling in love again. “I honestly think it could work, I miss seeing you happy.” You bit your tongue at his words, tears forming in your eyes. This time you allowed yourself to break down in front of him, he sat in his seat surprised. He wasn’t sure on what to do so he only watched, watched how you unraveled in front of him. Missed seeing you happy? As if your depression wasn’t caused by his neglect, by facing his cold-shoulder every other day. Of course you weren’t putting the whole blame on him, you were to blame as well for your poor communication skills and never speaking up. “I am, so so so sorry for everything. Please don’t cry anymore. It’ll get better, I swear.”

And so couples therapy started, some times he would show and sometimes he wouldn’t. The therapist was kind enough to continue sessions with you even when your husband never showed, and you grew to appreciate his kindness. But that’s what therapists do, you told yourself, they get to know their patients even if the other half was missing. Other half, partner in crime, lover, husband, whatever he was had been missing for quite some time now. Moments like this made you think about leaving, you had the money to be able to live by yourself for a while and you could always go full time. But thinking about how much it would affect him saddened you. It seemed like you still cared for the man that rarely showed you any emotion. Out of frustration, you cleaned the house. The distraction was well needed especially after he never showed for your session, not even sending a message to excuse himself. You couldn’t be angry though, he was a hard-working man and you knew he worked hard to get this far in his career. As you cleaned the house, you found photo albums. The pictures of your wedding, when did it all go wrong? It almost felt unreal going through the pictures, the pictures of the both of you smiling and holding hands, kissing and dancing. 

The first time he ever had a full conversation with you was when he had found a scribbled piece of paper on your side of the bedroom. It was crumbled up, aimed to be thrown away but he had gotten his hands on it thinking it was paperwork. Well, it wasn’t exactly a civil conversation but more like yelling. “What is this?” He asked, holding the yellow paper up. You closed the book and placed it on your lap. Your breath hitched at the sight of it, feeling your blood run cold. It was a letter you had written after too many wine glasses of sweet red. A letter were you expressed your anger and your hurt, were you yearned to feel his love again but also desperate to never come back. A letter that explained to him that he could shove his empty promises up his ass and about how much you hoped to find the courage to just pack up your things and just leave. “I asked you a fucking question, what is this?” His voice was loud, booming even and it scared you. You felt the tears start to form but you bit your tongue, trying your best not to let them out. “Don’t cry, all you do is fucking cry!” Maybe this argument is what you needed, something that got both of you heated enough to confess your true feelings. “And what if all I do is cry? Can you blame me? All I do is live in your shadow and throw on a fake smile for this shit-show we call a marriage!” The tears came in running, blurring your vision like it had many times before. You weren’t able to see his expression but it was obvious he was still fuming. 

“How is this ‘shit-show’ ever going to get better if you don't ever try? All you do is sit on your ass and mope and cry and just fucking exist for no reason. God, sometimes I wish you had a little bit more personality!” His words were strong, his voice was as well. It was clear that he had wanted to say that for a while after it so naturally rolled off his tongue. You winced at his words but he still didn’t back off, seeing you hurt did not matter to him anymore. Rubbing your tears away, you stood up, letting the hardcover book fall to ground making it thud. “Fuck you, I don’t need this.” The ring pulled from your finger with so much ease, it felt like a breath of fresh air and you sobbed at the feeling of letting go. You threw the ring at his feet which he stared at in disbelief. Were you seriously ready to throw this marriage away? He clenched his jaw looking up to face you. You were quick on your feet, leaving the house barefoot and only with your wallet and car keys. ‘Please chase me.’ But he didn’t, and just like that, you were gone. And for the last time you thought to yourself, ‘No, it would not get better.’

Marriage is not always easy, and letting go isn’t easy as well but sometimes it needs to be done before it completely ruins you and your spirit. 

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