#they’re trying to give away some really nice looking rope and it was nice of them to offer it to me even tho I don’t need any rn

[cosmalumi]

A summary of the rest of the story:

This is late, but better late than never I suppose. I've been asked a couple of times over the years to post the rest of the story, but I never knew how to go about writing it up, so here we go Chapter 3

This was the last one I had a proper script for. I guess partially 4? There was a snippet with Twilight and Spike figuring out how to find element bearers but I dunno if it made much sense. The script here is a bit rough and probably needed some refinement, but it gets the point across. The following are the last pages I worked on, two of which were never posted.

[START SCRIPT] He gives a short laugh. “Sorry about that! Nice to meet’cha. Name’s Nox. I hope those restraints aren’t too tight. You might be a prisoner, but there’s no need for you to be uncomfortable here.”

“…” Fluttershy glares at him.

Wow that’s actually a really great impression of my boss… You’re not related to Brass are you?

I guess you’re not the talkative type huh? That's alright, I can do it for you. How’s about we start with a name?

"Says here you’re Fluttershy. Only child of Cloud Cover and Posey who were prominent figures of the Velvet Carnation Movement until their untimely deaths ten years ago during the Ponyville fire, leading to you dropping out of Cloudsdale flight school. Currently you live in a cottage on the outskirts of New Ponyville and run an animal caretaking service.” Fluttershy is shocked, and he’s grinning “Pretty spooky, huh? The crown’s got eyes and ears everywhere… But it looks like few places are escaping us… saaay… the hiding places of your Red Sun friends?”

Fluttershy raises an eyebrow.

“Look, I get it. You don’t trust me or anypony in the castle for that matter, but you’re here on charges of attempted regicide and that means you’re on a fast track to a short rope. But I know you’re just another pony that’s been twisted by the Red Sun. If you work with us-

“I’ll never work for Nightmare Moon!” She blurts out angrily.

“But you’ll follow the Red Sun? Do you even know what kind of things they do? Because they certainly aren’t the heroes some ponies make them out to be.

“All they want is an Equestria where ponies can live in peace-” “Peace?”He places several photos on the table. ”Blood rituals, bombings of public gathering places, foalnapping and ransoming ponies to fund their activities.” Fluttershy's face is concerned. “Remember the wild weather that destroyed the harvest in Tall Tale last fall? Well the Red Sun’s goons stole the relief supplies our Queen sent. They were alright with leaving thousands to starve.

“Even if that were the case, I didn’t want to do what I did, but someone had to stand up to her. She’s nothing more than a big bully and I couldn’t sit around anymore and watch her hurt more innocent ponies. I had to try, and If that means this is my last day on Gaia, then so be it. New Fluttershy isn’t a coward!” “That’s quite noble of you. Ponies that selfless are hard to come by… which is why I don’t want to see you go down for this. Tell me who helped plan the attack and the Crown won’t press charges. I’ll make it so you never stepped hoof in Canterlot. You could go on with your life… Go back to your cottage… back to your pet.” Slides forward picture of angel. [PAGE BREAK] Fluttershy is thinking of Angel and other animals from back home. "I can’t do that. They helped put my life back together. I won’t let you hurt them. “Would they do the same for you though? I mean… they didn’t come for you when you got captured. They don’t care about YOU, they cared about what you could do FOR them.” “What and you care?” “Fluttershy, I just want to give you your life back. The way I see it, a cult took advantage of a young troubled mare and made you do things you'd never think to do otherwise. If the Red Sun was willing to sacrifice someone as kind as you, who else would they be willing to throw away for their selfish goals?” “They’re not like that…” She looks a bit more unsure this time. [PAGE BREAK] All I ask in return for your freedom is a name. If you won't do it for yourself, do it for the ones that care for you and would like to see you again. Take some time to think about it. He gets up and leaves. Fluttershy looks down pensively. [PAGE BREAK]

Nox exits. “That went well! Wanna grab a bite, Sabre? I’m thinking sandwiches-- Something with peanut butter. Crunchy, obviously. Crystal Sabre is there, looking at Nox, exasperated. She points at him accusingly. “I told you that wasn’t going to go anywhere. You should have let me interrogate her. “Look, until Brass gets back, I have to fill in for her, and that means I’m stuck with a mountain of paperwork. I even had to get up for that emergency meeting this morning! Let me have a little fun! Besides, I have a feeling it wasn’t all for nothing. “The Red Sun’s never been this bold before…What do you think changed?” Fluttershy says through the intercom window thingy “I want to talk to Rainbow Dash!” “…Who?”

[END SCRIPT]

In the end, I got too scared of the idea of backlash from one of my OCs being mean to Fluttershy ^^;; I recognize that it may not have been the case, but after how much hate I got for killing off a random guard, younger me got too scared to stick to this script and I flip flopped between redoing it or leaving it. I came to love the characters I had originally made for the sole purpose of filling cabinet roles. I struggled bring myself to make one of them the antagonist in an interaction with someone as beloved as Fluttershy. I ended up putting off the decision long enough that I lost interest in continuing the story though. This script was not the main reason I lost interest in the story, but it was a factor. My original points stand, and I don't regret deciding to let this comic go so I could branch out.

A chunk I wrote with Twilight: Sunset shimmer was a failed magician that was previously in Night's employ Twilight actually would have talked about here in this chunk: [START SCRIPT] “We know the elements are all part of a system. If they’re inactive, the bond is still there, it’s just faint, like how on a map you might not see a road between a town and Canterlot, but there has to be one because duh, all roads lead to Canterlot. We have pieces of the system and if we can isolate that link between the pieces, we could follow the link from one element back to the others. All we need to do is fine tune Rarity’s gem finding spell so instead of the beacon being any old gem, it’s whatever is on the other side of the link. Spike: “Wouldn’t the mages before you already have tried something like that? Twi: “Well the last one, Sunset or something, (Frowny scrunchy face), destroyed all of the notes from previous experiments so we’re pretty much starting from scratch, but even if they did, we have something they didn’t! A working element!” [END SCRIPT]

Night burned through so many young and eager mages trying to get what she wanted. Once they weren't useful, they got dumped.

Rest of it:

The big bad evil was going to be the guard Fenix who is actually a body hopping spirit of an alicorn from the ancient alicorn empire before it got decimated in the Alicorn-Draconequus wars. The alicorns had purged themselves of their "darkness" and went on a crusade to bring greatness and order to the rest of Gaia. The last of the Draconequus sacrificed themselves to break the alicorns into the three/four pony tribes--essentially exterminating both races. One of the newly minted unicorns had been in the Empress's inner council and refused to die quietly like the others. Since then, he's been taking over other unicorns' bodies as a way of living forever because he's scared of death (Unicorns because he wasn't sure if non-unicorns could do the necessary magic to prolong his life). That's why Fenix's personality changed when his buddy died in the flashback told by his cousin (The hopping usually kills original person. The original Fenix is gone, there's just the rogue soul now. The previous body was going to die, so he jumped ship before it did). The changeling comment by his cousin was meant to be a diversion.

The entity in Fenix's body had been around for thousands of years, just living a regular life. Ever since the rise of the two sisters, he attached himself to their leadership, usually hanging around as a soldier/guard of some kind, because he still believes in the Alicorns' right to rule and wants to help with bringing glory to Equestria and serve the greater good--the Alicorns and the ideals they choose to rule by.

Fenix had been fine living as just a guard, even under Nightmare Moon. Witnessing her uncertainty and paranoia--how the country was being divided by Night's poor leadership in recent years (especially after the whole assassin and Quake dying)--he became disillusioned by Night's rule and would go on to lead a rebellion against her by plotting to take the Elements of Harmony for himself, hopping into the body of the Red Sun Rebellion's Leader- Sunset Shimmer, then eventually hopping into Celestia to become Solar Flare/Daybreaker or Evil Celestia or whatever. The Elements of Harmony were actually ancient alicorn weapons of mass destruction. The enchantment that made them had mutated over the millennia, becoming something completely new, but contact with the soul of an alicorn of old would have ignited something. Not exactly a reset, but they would have recognized one of their original users and their original purpose.

Night is actually the darkness (a shade) that had been purged from the Alicorn Empress in the old days. It gained a will of it's own over years and forged a pact with Luna to help her take over the kingdom. She didn't remember who she was, only fragments because she was all the parts of the Empress that were deemed impure/bad. They were fine being partner rulers for a while, but then an offhanded comment led to Ponyville being burned to the ground by zealots in the Queen's name 15 or so years ago --this had been to destroy the Velvet Carnation Movement which had been a peaceful group advocating for democracy instead of monarchies--and they'd been feuding ever since and only recently made up in the comic.

Night would have freed Celestia from the Sun of her own volition to try to appease the population and show that she is a good ruler and stop all the talk of rebellion. She wanted to use her as a political puppet. Celestia would have been on a short leash.

Night would have died at the end of the comic, sacrificing herself to put an end to the old empire once and for all by holding down evil Celestia as they both get blasted by the Friendship Elements beam. The old ways were wrong, it was time to stop clinging onto the past--Celestia and Luna are left to make up and rebuild Equestria.

There was definitely a lot of middle stuff that I never figured out, but I did like the story. It just grew increasingly clear that it wasn't something I could ever finish.

Here are some of the alicorn designs I never got around to showing:

I feels quite nice to finally have it all out there.

[chaotic-for-good]

luigi fic request: you cheated on lu at a party while being super drunk (as if that'd ever happen in real life pls who'd cheat on him 🙄, but its just for the plot) and he finds out, gets super mad. So he kidnaps you in like a random cabin in the forest, 'punishes' you by overstimulating your nipples and clit while you keep apologizing to him with tears streaming down your face but he just does not give a ff.

You all really made my day yesterday! Thank you for all the kind words. I was really nervous posting that, but you’ve made me excited to keep giving it a try :)

In the process of taking a stab at this request with some minor tweaks. Hope you’ll forgive me that she doesn’t actually cheat (but Luigi most certainly thinks she does). They’re at winter formal in the woods (is formal what those frat weekends away are called? Was not a frat rat in college lol)

A little taste of ropes and rumors below the fold :) Trigger warning, another character gets pretty pushy and corners her.

Usually when you black out at a party, you take it as a sign to sit the next weekend out. Half as punishment for the inevitable embarrassment (though who can really say what happened?), half to recover from the damage you surely did to your developing brain. A little reset after behaving badly.

You spend the weekend alone, or at least mostly alone. Journaling, meditating, reading. Sometimes, you even let Luigi join for parts of your reflective time, if he promises to be quiet and keep his hands to himself (he’s not always great at the latter). You grocery shop, cook, clean, get your apartment back in order. Cuddle up and watch movies. Stop paying attention to the movie entirely when more naked activities prove to be a better cure for your frazzled nerves.

But this weekend is the exception.

It’s winter formal, and despite the way your stomach pitched the whole ride up, despite still being wracked with hangxiety a full week after a few too many at Phi Psi, you’d never back out of a commitment you made to him.

Now, sipping Prosecco out of a red solo cup in the hot tub, snow falling gently as the other girlfriends gossip and laugh, you’re actually grateful your usual weekend reset had to be postponed. Sinking into a pure moment of girlhood always has that effect on you. It’s nice to be out here, convening with nature, under the stars—especially knowing Luigi still hasn’t seen you’re wearing the flowered bikini that drives him crazy.

Inside, Luigi is running the beer pong table with his partner, Ryan, when that jackass Tyler calls winner. Luigi throws Ryan an irritable look.

Normally, Luigi is about as chill and easygoing as they come. It was rare, if ever, that he had an issue with anyone, least of all one of his fraternity brothers.

But Tyler? Tyler gets under his skin.

It’s the way he looks at you—like you’re a piece of meat. The way he’s always finding excuses to put his hands on you—a graze of your arm, a half-hug, a too-playful shove. And he gets bolder when you’re drunk.

To Luigi, you were his vulnerable baby girl he’d protect at all costs, but you weren’t oblivious. You knew what Tyler was playing at, and you didn’t let it slide. The time he had the balls to crack a joke about how he’d “keep you up late that night”, you told him in no uncertain terms to fuck off—with enough heat to make him steer clear of you for a few peaceful weeks. Good thing Luigi wasn’t there for that exchange, or you surmise he would have gotten in the first fight of his life.

So, when Luigi hears Tyler’s idiot friend pumping him up across the table about how you finally made it back to his room last weekend—and that you were in there for over an hour—something inside him snaps.

His blood runs cold.

And for the first time in Luigi’s calculated, careful, methodical life—he doesn’t think at all.

He just acts.

In some kind of predatory haze, Luigi pushes back from the table, shoving past anyone unlucky enough to be in his way. He barely hears Ryan call after him about being in the middle of a game. He pulls on his coat, laces up his sneakers and steps out into the frigid cold, heading straight for the hot tub.

He hears you before he sees you—your warm giggle, the little squeak punctuating the end of it giving away how tipsy and light you’re feeling.

Any other time, he’d find it endearing.

But after finding out what you did? It makes his skin prickle with rage.

It fills him with hunger, need—a feral desire to take what’s his and crush all of the foul feelings bubbling up inside of him until they don’t exist anymore.

You think he’s joking when he plucks you out of the hot tub under the armpits, throws you over his shoulder, and storms down the side of the house like you weigh nothing. A cacophony of laughter, what the fuck?’s and oh my god, Mangione’s follow you as he strides into the woods.

“Luigi! It’s COLD!” You squeal, giggling and swatting against his back.

But Luigi isn’t laughing. Not at all.

Instead, he grips your wrists behind your back, voice raw and rough as he growls something about the party last week. About how he knows everything.

Your heart drops.

Foggy memories bubble up as you shiver over his shoulder, yelping when he smacks the back of your thigh, grabbing your flesh and squeezing hard.

Your prosecco-fuzzy brain fights to fill in the blanks.

Jello shots with Jenny and Rachel (far, far too many). Losing at rage cage, dancing under the galaxy light one of the brothers always brings out.

And then—Tyler.

Tyler pestering you. Like he always fucking does.

Tyler herding you into a room, cornering you. Even wasted, you shoved at him, slurring something about how you wanted Luigi, telling him to get the fuck out of your way.

But what did it look like from the outside?

Your stomach lurches.

Because now, you’re being dragged into the woods by the only man you’ve ever wanted—and he thinks you betrayed him.

To be continued

[thoughtsforsoob]

places in Tokyo that they take you to :)

a/n: idk if y’all can tell but i visited Tokyo, Japan not so long ago and absolutely fell in love with it. it was such a beautiful experience and I hope that if you ever do go, you have fun too. please don’t skip out on it and make time to visit it if you can! this may be a little specific but i know this is self-indulgent. please let me know what you think of it !!!

yeonjun

team planets! i see him liking how artsy and pretty it is. he loves seeing you enjoy the different exhibits and takes so many pictures of you there. he whines when he has to take off his shoes for the water experience part (which is so beautiful btw). he whines because he knows you’re gonna tell him to “put his damn dogs away”. i think his favorite part of the flower room because he loves how you look among all the flowers. Says some corny ass shit like “yeah, they’re pretty but not prettier than you.”

soobin

Tokyo Disneyland! He is a total nerd so he would love this place. He makes you get up super duper early and rewards you with coffee (tullys tho omggg). You guys arrived early enough and are there for rope drop. He even dresses up all nice for the day. He buys the both of you matching character hats. He totally insists on porky and slinky hats (he begs to be porky so you let him). He loves getting on all the ride but his favorite was beauty and the beast. he loves the attention to detail. he even gives you a little kiss while the ending scene is happing and def makes you blush. Don’t even get him started on the parades. He watches every single one of them. Especially the last light show. He holds you close to his side and wraps his jacket around you. The whole moment just feels so sweet and romantic and he lives for it.

beomgyu

harajuku enjoyer for sure. he loves all of the clothing shops, shoe stores and everything else. He for sure goes into all of the stores and tries on a million things and has you give your opinion. Don’t worry, after all of that shopping, he’ll make sure to get you a treat! He’ll fill you both up on Okinawa ice cream, cheesy 10 yen coins and plenty of coffee!! I feel like he’d also take you to music stores. You both comb through the many floors of Tower Records and find your favorite albums. Also..what’s harajuku without a photo booth session :)) he makes you take one of those silly ones that make you look like a doll. Silly gyu

taehyun

sensō-ji! I feel like he really appreciative of older places and places that make for pretty pictures. he def makes you both put on kimonos for the whole experience (don’t be like me and def watch your step when walking in these narrow shops…aka: don’t skip down the stairs 😜) he loves the whole touristy vibe and he hopes you do to. He obviously also stops at all the food stalls and buys you and him treats to try. HE also takes a pretty picture with you in front of the temple…one where he even kisses your cheek. He is in that good of a mood omg. You two also do fortunes at the temple and you both get bad luck :(((( sorry I don’t make the rules

huening kai

snoopy museum for sure. Yeah ik this place is technically in yokohama but like…idc :) anyways, huening gives snoopy lover vibes so he would def love to bring you here. he loves looking at all of memorabilia with you and if you’re a snoopy enthusiast also, he asks you questions and makes comments. he def begs you to take a pic with him by the giant snoopy in the middle of the room. he keeps it in his wallet forever. he also loves the stuffed snoopies so you get matching ones!

[dujour13]

5, 7, and 32 for Raqim/Seelah?

Thanks Ash! These forced me to flesh out some ideas 💕

5. How do they consciously realize that they like the other character? Does it take them a while?

For Raqim this might be a bit of a spoiler because I was planning a reveal moment in the fic where we’ll get to hear his thoughts. He’s conscious of it and fighting it pretty early on. She’s his type but he never knew it until he met her. She’s beautiful in a way his immature younger self wouldn’t have recognized, but this more mature self is immediately tongue-tied. The secret is, that’s why he’s so rude when they meet in the tunnels. After having been rejected in the past he doesn’t know how to act around women he’s attracted to. It doesn’t take him long to realize there’s more to it than her looks.

For Seelah it’s more complicated. He’s cute. Potential hook-up material. But every time she makes up her mind to flirt she can’t seem to do it, which is weird. There’s always an excuse why it’s not the right tone or the right moment. Eventually she starts to see why—he’s potentially more than a hook-up, and that throws her off. And then he’s Knight-Commander and she’s not sure how she’s supposed to feel about him at that point. A couple incidents in Act III will have them confiding in each other about their pasts, but at the same time clashing more bitterly about religion, so there’s a push and pull.

The key realization isn’t so much admitting it to themselves, but accepting it.

7. Do they (or would they) pursue the other character’s affection, and if so, how? Do they tell the other character how they feel? Try to earn their admiration? Woo them with romantic gestures? Flirt with them, skillfully or otherwise?

There’s a point in Act III where, due to certain events, Seelah is hurting. Raqim knows he’s been a jerk, and he tells himself it’s just because they’re friends and she needs comfort that he gives her an extravagant gift. She doesn’t know what she’s supposed to take away. He’s not really sure either. What’s nice about the gift is that it’s an acknowledgement and acceptance that she’s a paladin. Although she’s embarrassed and confused by it, it does help patch things up between them before the Abyss.

32. How do their friends react to finding out they’re a couple? Do they have lots of mutual friends? Did their friends know, perhaps before they themselves did?

Arueshalae is surprised that other people are surprised. Elan and Daeran also saw it coming – Daeran as early as his birthday party. Sosiel wasn’t so sure because of the religious arguments that he got roped into a couple of times too (Sosiel’s learning that couples can disagree and still love each other). Lann and Woljif are clueless but excited for them.

[victorluvsalice]

WIP Word Train!

I've done this meme before (under a different name), but I'm happy enough to do it again -- feels like a good way to help myself get back into the swing of things with "Londerland Bloodlines: Downtown Queensland" and "A Murder Shared Is A Murder Thirded," after I took a break from them to concentrate on Multiamory March. So, without further ado:

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your WIP(s) that start with each letter of that word.

Tagged by: @dont-offend-the-bees -- thanks Newt!

Word Given: BONES

B

LB:DQ: “Bishop?” Nines straightened up, concern written across his face. “Damn it, was this a play by the Sabbat all along?”

“I – couldn’t say,” Alice admitted, tilting her head. “I don’t think so? Judging by what he said to me, he called himself a ‘Bishop’ because he was trying to set himself up as a new god.”

AMSIAMT: Bumby’s eyes narrowed. “Apparently not enough,” he snapped back. “Yours would have been a triumph.” He smirked. “But on the other hand, you are an insane wreck, so perhaps my work is done after all.”

O

LB:DQ: “Of course they do. . .honestly, what’s happened so far is that I’ve learned they’re shit company and the Camarilla pays better,” Alice said, fishing her Bloodstar out of her pocket. “Though on the flip side, I’m not so enamored with LaCroix as to not sell him out to the man who has saved my undead ass twice. There’s points for and against both sides, is what I’m saying.”

“And both sides must be balanced if you wish to walk this tightrope correctly,” Caterpillar put in, riding on her shoulder as his wings fluttered behind him. “Give one and the other just enough of your favor to keep them happy, but never all of yourself. That way lies no ending you want.”

AMSIAMT: “Oh, no need to get violent just yet,” Smiler said, coming up on Victor’s other side and pulling a little wrapped cloth out of their pocket. “I think I can get that open with these!”

“With what?” Victor said, looking up at them in confusion.

Smiler unrolled the cloth in response, revealing a set of different little wriggly bits of metal. “Are those lockpicks?” Alice asked, blinking. “Why do you have lockpicks?”

“I found them in the library!” Smiler explained, sitting down beside Victor and indicating for him to hand over the safe. “Tucked away behind an old book on burglary, amusingly enough. I guess Elder Gutknecht isn’t against all illegal activities – just murder.” They shot her and Victor one of their winning buck-toothed smiles. “I know the basics, and I’m a pretty decent tinkerer, so – might as well give it a shot, right?”

N

LB:DQ: “Not even then – I mean, I would eat any candy bars given to me, of course, but my preference was always for baked goods – particularly, any form of cake.” Alice licked her lips in memory. “Especially strawberry cake. I always loved strawberries while alive.”

“I see – fair enough,” Victor said with a little smile. “I’m a fan of chocolate cake myself – though my real favorite dessert is apple pie. There’s just something about fresh apples and cinnamon and. . .” He rubbed his stomach. “And now I want some, darn it. Even if it really isn’t much of a Halloween dish.”

AMSIAMT: “No ledgers yet,” Smiler reported, closing the lid on an old chest tucked away in the corner. They rapped their knuckles against the glass of the window closest to them. “But I did have a thought about these! Namely, that they overlook a nice quiet-looking alleyway. Meaning, once we get the ledger, we could escape out them and not have to worry about figuring out a way past June in the kitchen, or running into Bumby at the front door. We could be away before he even knew we were here!”

“Which would only be for the good – but how do you propose we get down safely?” Alice asked, tapping a foot. “I’m all right at climbing in Wonderland, but I don’t know if that skill translates to the real world.”

“Oh, don’t worry – we’re already prepared for this,” Smiler told her with a grin. “Can you pass me the rope out of the bag, Victor?”

E

LB:DQ: “Easy, Damsel,” said Nines. “We’ll find him. We’ve done a good job of whittling down his numbers – it’s not gonna be long before he’s the only one left.”

“Yeah, but we gotta track the guy down sooner rather than later,” Skelter argued. “There’s more of those CDC folks in hazmat every damn night, and things are starting to look pretty suspicious.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m not arguing that,” Nines admitted. “But if we run off half-cocked, then there’s a good chance of a Masquerade violation, and – well. I don’t want LaCroix taking any of us to task.”

AMSIAMT: “Even with – ah – most of Sergeant Tannen’s squad injured?” Victor said, tugging nervously at his collar. “W-we weren’t exactly kind t-to them in our escape.”

“From what we understand, they weren’t exactly kind to you beforehand,” Matt said, still grinning that overstretched grin. “Accusing you of such a horrible crime – it’s no wonder you all fought back. And given how much trouble the Spirit Wardens gave them over it, I doubt they’ll insist on pressing charges.”

Alice sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. “That’s – that’s good, I admit. Just – bloody hell, I wish I’d managed to keep my temper and my senses for a bit longer.”

“Oh, really, don’t stress over it,” Carol assured her. “It’s all in the past now.” She tittered. “And besides, it’s not like you’ve killed anyone else, right?”

S

LB:DQ: “She does have to make things square with LaCroix – pisses me off, but we don’t have the manpower to throw the bastard out on his head yet,” Nines pointed out.

“Sucks,” Damsel said, before squinting at Alice. “You might have an anarch soul in you, though – how close are you to Nancy Pants up there?”

“I’ve tried on nancy pants and didn’t care for them,” Alice responded. “I may not be your biggest fan, but I don’t find LaCroix good company either. I work for him because I must, not because I want to.”

“Hey, somebody in this joint’s got to lack the restraint to keep their mouth shut,” Damsel told her. “But – you really want to help us out? Stay close to LaCroix. Smooch his ass, play ball, keep an eye on him for us. You hear anything spicy, you come talk to me.” She wagged a finger. “Don’t advertise! For all anyone in that tower’ll know, you’re still a worthless boot-licking Cammy do-girl.”

“So don’t go screaming ‘Down with LaCroix’ or anything,” Alice said, allowing herself a smile at Damsel’s glower. “But I’ve no objections to playing spy for you lot. I shall wear my Camarilla uniform, and under that my combat fatigues.”

AMSIAMT: “Sounds like a wonderful idea to me – why don’t you come with us, and then you can tell us all about it back at the MOJ?” Carol suggested, face brightening back to normal “creepily cheerful” levels.

“Yes – we’d be happy to put you up for the Names!” Matt heartily agreed. “I suspect you all could use a good meal and a proper bed to sleep in.” He eyed their clothes. “And perhaps someone to do a bit of laundry?”

“I – I would like to get out of these clothes,” Victor admitted, rubbing the back of his head as he looked away.

“So would I,” Alice said, with a subtle sniff of her blouse. She screwed up her nose. “And considering our meal options lately have consisted of surprise loaf and mushroom soup, something new to eat would also be appreciated.”

Tagging: @thesatiricaldemon, @ace-of-tales, @nebbychan -- your word, if you want to accept it, is RAINS!

[mac-cheez]

My Guide to Surviving the Waynes

This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I finally finished the ending!! Don't expect an update soon I have no idea when the fancy will strike again and the TMA brain rot is real rn.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2

---------------------------------------------------------

Dear Diary,

I was wrong. SO WRONG. You’d think rich people, especially adopted rich people, would be at least a little sane, but no, they’re not and I have no idea how to deal. It’s only been a couple days since my last entry and so much has happened. So here’s what I’ve learned:

Let’s start with the first incident that happened roughly 10 min after my last entry. I had just finished when Tim offered to meet me in the coffee shop outside of the library (he was picking me up from campus)(Alfred was busy). When I walked in I saw him about to order and walked to the side to wait. He looked at the menu for roughly 0.2 sec before looking the barista dead in the eye saying “I’ll have a Vanilla Cold Brew with seven shots of espresso.”

The barista laughed and joked “Damn you want some cocaine with that?” Then he just said, “Sure that too.” and fucking walked away? He didn’t even give his name he just paid and went straight to the pickup area. The most concerning part of that story is that they fucking did it! And he drank the whole goddamn thing without batting an eye! I was highly concerned for his well-being the entire drive home. (I really need to talk to Mr. Wayne about a rental)

What’s even weirder is when we walked into the manor Dick was just hanging from the chandelier. It was sans rope and more acrobatic, but still concerning considering how tall the ceiling was. I’m still not entirely sure how he got up there, but I just walked away hoping to find my sanity once again.

The rest of the day went relatively smoothly with the normal amount of yelling and death threats (still can’t believe this is reality). The next day something actually nice happened while I was off from college and heading to the kitchen for lunch. It was a Friday so most of the house was either at work or school, and it was pretty quiet (thank god). When I walked in one of the others was in there cooking already (Jason I think?). I decided on a sandwich since he was currently using the stove and it was going smoothly till I got to the pickle jar. For whatever reason that thing was tight as hell and was going nowhere. He looked at me and after my fifth try (and many curse words) he held out his hand. I handed the jar to him, and he opened it without trouble.

“I loosened it,” I said trying to hide my embarrassment.

“Uh-huh,” he said distractedly. We sat in awkward silence till I noticed one of the books from the library on the counter. It was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Sign Of The Four. I asked if he was reading it and he said yes. I asked him if he’s gotten to the twist yet and he looked at me puzzled.

“You’ve read The Sign Of The Four?”

“Yeah, not my favorite Sherlock Holmes Novel, but still good nonetheless,” I said not paying attention, “Are you reading unabridged or abridged?”

“Unabridged,” he said, “you into the classics?”

“Totally, I love a good Victorian mystery or gothic horror novel,” I replied.

“You?” I asked.

“More of a Jane Austen fan myself, but I can respect those choices,” he said thoughtfully.

“I’ve never read her works, but if I have a chance I wouldn’t mind trying,” I said. He looked up at me somewhere between excitement and bewilderment.

“Would you like some recommendations?” He said cautiously. I said sure, and he immediately went into a long speech about Jane Austen and her novels. By the time he was done my sandwich and his ramen were long gone. By the end, I had a list of books to read and a new reading buddy to rant about books to. We’ve hung out intermittently since then, and honestly, it was the sanest thing I did all week. However the sanity didn’t last long.

Many other incidents (too many to write) all culminated in this afternoon, when I finally caved and decided if this was my life, it might as well be documented for (at the very least) the enjoyment of others. It was fairly quiet (first clue) and my morning class had been canceled so I was just sitting in the living room doing some work. Everyone else was out and I was about to leave for my 2:30 class when suddenly someone smashed through the window and a smoke bomb was thrown. I honestly thought it was Tim or Jason being weird again, but then the smoke cleared and there was just a bunch of dudes in Green suits with question marks. They looked around and saw me pretty quickly and immediately pointed whatever weapons they had at me. Eventually, some other ones came in the room and said the house was empty and “Wayne is nowhere to be found.” They started arguing till they finally concluded that if none of the Wayne’s were here, I must be the next best thing. Honestly, I can’t even blame them, and at this point I just let it happen.

They put a bag over my head and put me over the strongest one’s shoulder. I was in a car for about an hour before I was potato sack’d again. Once I was placed down, the bag was taken off my head, and I saw that I was in an abandoned-looking warehouse. I saw some more of the brightly clothed men off to the side arguing, one looking even more ridiculous than the others. The extra ridiculous one finally gave up talking to the others(henchmen maybe?) and walked (more like strutted) over to address me.

“Hello guest of Wayne, may I ask your name?” He asked rhyming for some weird ass reason.

“Vic?”

“Ah yes but what is it’s whole, for a half shall not know?” He said lilting his voice… ‘whimsically’?

“What?”

“Your designation that all might know.”

I just continued looking at him with apparent confusion not knowing what the hell is going on. After a minute he hung his head and spoke normally.

“What is your full name?” He sighed.

“Oh! Victoria Blanc,” I said.

“Ah! And what is your relation to the name of Wayne?” He said trying again with the talking in circles bull.

“Look dude usually I could appreciate….. Whatever it is that's happening, but I’ve had one hell of a week so…….”

“Oh come now it couldn’t have been that bad.” He said dismissively.

“Alright bet! You might wanna sit down this is gonna take a minute.”

Once he sat I started explaining everything that had happened since I’d moved to Gotham. As I was explaining more and more of the “henchmen” started joining the crowd.

“He chased him through the manor with a sword?” Riddler asked (at least that's what one of the others called him).

“Yeah, and apparently this is a normal phenomenon,” I said exasperated.

“And here I thought I was crazy.”

“Oh, no this is probably the most sane thing that's happened to me all week,” I said hand waving (They untied me after a while)(I asked nicely).

I was about to continue when suddenly three figures jumped down and got into fighting positions.

“Let her go Riddler!” Said the one in Black and blue(and maybe a bird?)

“Oh, she was free to leave a while ago.” He said casually to the masked people.

“What?” said the one in red.

“Yeah, we even offered to get her away from that mad house,” said Bob.

“Mad House?”

“Yes, it's almost criminal how they act in that house, you bats should really get on that,” ‘Riddler’ said chidingly. 

I didn't really understand why he called them bats since they all looked bird-themed but I didn't bring it up because honestly, weirder things have happened at this point. They agreed to look into it, albeit very confused(and almost offended), and said they still needed to take me back.

“Fine,” ‘Riddler’ sighed heavily, “ but Vic, sweetie, if you need somewhere safe to stay in Gotham I have plenty of friends who will keep you safe while you finish your degree.”

“Yeah, kinda tempting, but I don't think my parents would like that very much, and they are paying for it so…….”

“Very well, offer stands in perpetuity, to Arkham yes?”

“You're not gonna ask a riddle or…..” said the one in red and black.

“Usually I would but honestly I’m far too concerned right now to care.”

After that, they handcuffed him and the other goons (kinda unfair but i guess they did kidnap me) and walked me out to one of the police cars so I could go back to the manor. They offered to drive me but I've seen enough motorcycle crash scene pictures to put the fear of God (thy name is friction) in me. When I got back Mr. Wayne was in the foyer with Alfred and immediately came over to make sure I was ok.

“Yeah, I'm fine Mr. Wayne, honestly I’m more worried about the class I missed than the kidnapping,” I explained.

He seemed concerned by that but had a phone call right after that he needed to take. Alfred walked me to my room (I think to make sure I wasn't concussed) and I just kinda went back to writing and here we are. Can't wait to see what fresh hell awaits me in the coming week……….. Maybe I should've taken Riddler up on that offer.

[statichotline]

White Elephant 1

Content warnings: abuse, restraints, violence, kidnapping (implied), captivity, swearing, pet names, suicide baiting

---

“Sweetheart, you’re a fucking dumbass.” The Punk is pissed. Well, of course the Punk is pissed. All that Gus seems to ever be able to do is piss of the Punk. And when they use ‘sweetheart’ towards Gus, that demeaning little nickname that makes Gus want to scratch out that asshole’s eyes, they are pissed. 

It’s nice to know they have a tell; it can be hard to read the Punk. They always got this constant air of smug, superior, unbothered, confidence. A way of filling the cabin even when they’re four rooms over. And sometimes, Gus can’t tell when they're being an asshole for the sake of being an asshole or are genuinely trying to get under her skin. It feels the same either way, they got a way with words.

All things considered, Gus didn’t exactly need them using ‘sweetheart’ to know they’re pissed. Her being caught trying to escape again was probably big enough of a fucking hint. But hey, good to know that the fact she’s tied up on the floor in the empty rooms isn’t because the Punk is doing it for kicks and giggles.

“Kill yourself,” Gus hisses. She pulls against the rope binding her wrists and ankles, ineffective, of course. 

“Like I said, a dumbass.” They drop into a crouch next to her, looking at her like she is some sort of particularly nasty stain on the hardwood. “What’s this now, seventh time? You’d think you’d get it into your head that this isn’t working out for you.” 

“You won’t. Coward.” Gus says unhelpfully for either of them.

They let out an exaggerated sigh, running a hand through their bright red mohawk. Or not really a mohawk right now. It’s ungelled and pulled into a bun at the back of their head. It still looks cool; Gus doesn’t know how they always make it look cool. “I really should do something about this.” They waive a hand towards her. “Maybe just leave you tied up for a couple of days. I can get work done and maybe you can fucking learn something.”

They won’t, she knows they won’t not for a few days. Hours? Maybe. Something she’ll be able to easily take. Gus rolls their eyes at the Punk.

“You’re right. You’re right,” they chuckle, something deep from the back of their throat. “You just like calling bluffs, don’t you sweetheart? And, ya know?” They scruff their chin, lost in thought before shooting a mean glare down at Gus. “If it was any other fucking person, I would have proved you wrong. But nope, you. Fucking you.”

“Okay man, once again I am suggesting that you should die forever.” God, they’re such monologuer.  If Gus had to bet, it’s going to be a couple minutes before they actually do shit. They’re just trying to get a reaction out of her. Despite how fucking awful of a person they are, she’s just not scared. Mad as hell, bitter, hateful, but not scared.

Gus tries her ropes again. She has no clue how people in movies get out of these, she just feels stuck, her fingers and toes feeling tingly. The Punk watches her as she does this with unbothered eyes. They reach out with one hand and slam her head into the floor. 

“S-shit!” Gus’s head rattles inside her skull and starts pounding. Her chest hitches as she blinks her eyes rapidly trying to clear away the disorientation she is suddenly met with. That hurt. “You’re gonna give me a concussion you bitch!”

“I’m talking. Shut up or I’ll put a damn sock in your mouth.”

“Fucking make me!” 

The Punk reaches out again and Gus tries to bite them. It is highly ineffective, Gus is currently similar to a worm in her movement capabilities and she is treated to seeing stars again. The Punk lets out a hum. “I mean, I can if you want. Seems like you enjoy pain the way you ask for it. Are you a masochist, sweetheart? You getting off on this?”

“Fuck you,” she hisses. God, they're disgusting.

“That seems to be your goal right now, not mine.” They’ve left their hand on her head and have started to just kinda push down, not painful, but definitely uncomfortable. Her face pressing into the hardwood flooring. “Or… you seemed to have gotten into your pretty little–”

“Not pretty–” Another slam. Shit, shit, shit, her head is spinning.

“–head that I can’t hurt you, or something. Or at least, not more than a few hits that you’re determined enough to brush off.” They leave a pause, a tiny little place that Gus is allowed to speak her mind, but she’s still recovering from the last blow and the Punk continues without her input. “And, shit, yeah, I’m sure you’ve noticed how careful I am with you. As an example, I’m going to have to stop bashing your head into the floor because concussions can kill and I’m not enough of a doctor to say how much more you can take.” 

The Punk lowers themselves the rest of the way to the floor, sitting with one knee propped up. “Can’t break your legs, can’t cut off your fingers, can’t beat you till you can’t move. Shame on me for preferring the basics of escape prevention but, hey, I’ve already got something else in the works. Just gotta make sure that you don’t have any allergies or other medical shit. You willing to spill?”

Gus has had a bit of time to recover. Letting the Punk’s pointless words go through one ear and out the other. She barely managed to catch there was a question at all, but, fuck them, she’s not answering shit, she tries to spit at them but it ends more so on her chin. The Punk gives her a disdainful look at her attempt at disrespect. 

“Is that a no?” they ask, deadpan.

“What do you think, fucker?”

“I think you like to make things difficult for no reason.” They give a pause, snapping their fingers twice before pointing at her. “How bout this, I let you off easy for your stupid little escape attempt if you tell me what your medical shit is about. Win, win.”

“Kill. Your. Self.” She’s never going to ever let the Punk get what they want.

“Yeah, fucking figures you’d say that, get more creative, Gus.” They stand up with an exaggerated stretch, rolling their shoulders in their studded leather jacket. “I’ll see you in a few hours to untie you. Have fun, or not, clearly I don’t control you.”

Gus struggles against the floor as they leave, pulling again and again at the ropes. Fuck them and their stupid face. She hates them god she hates them.

It doesn’t take much time for the door to snap shut behind them, and Gus can’t help but slump as soon as the Punk is gone. Her chest is heaving and she is tired. Adrenaline having pushed her through her escape attempt and that stupid conversation but now that the Punk is gone, or what is left of the threat, she feels just sick to her stomach and wants to take a fucking nap. 

Of course, she’s not going to be able to, not until she is utterly exhausted, she’s too uncomfortable with the rope and floor. She doesn’t think this one would be anyone’s first choice of sleeping arrangements. Still, she shuts her eyes and forces her chest to take slower breaths. 

Every once in a while, she tries the ropes again, hoping that maybe she’ll get some slack. All that comes of it is her wrists becoming more irritated. There was one moment that she attempted to roll around to maybe and, ugh, rub the ropes against the wall or something? But the simple act of moving her head, brought back the pounding that had kept steady in the background to a jackhammer against her head.

She doesn’t end up achieving anything before the Punk comes back. They give her a light kick to her side, before reaching down and undoing her ropes. 

“I haven’t learned shit,” she tells them.

They let out a chuckle, something so very annoyed. “Oh, I know.”

[wri0thesley]

Very irritated darling offering to braid Diluc’s hair on a slow morning. They’re needlessly rough with the brush, but Diluc tries to enjoy the company, and he can’t argue that the results look nice

i love the drama of yandere - the kidnapping, the initial raging, the first time you realise what has really happened. but one thing i truly don't think i talk about enough - especially with a yandere like diluc, a 'i will protect you at all costs' man - is the monotony of being the bird in a gilded cage.

days bleeding into one another. another meal from adelinde, another dutiful kiss on the forehead, another carefully worded request for something from your captor. no needles in case you hurt yourself, but how about a book? no pencils in case you stab yourself with them, but what about a jigsaw puzzle? day after day after day, stretching on - and you should be grateful.

dawn winery is beautiful, you are provided for in every way. you are cherished and protected. but day after day, the windows remain shut and the maids pretend you do not exist and your life slips away from you.

(how long have you been here? is that a silver grey hair or a trick of the light? are the trees already shedding autumn leaves? is anybody at home still thinking about you?)

so you take any opportunity to break up the monotony. some darlings give up, perhaps. some throw themselves whole-heartedly into beliving that they love diluc, with desperate conviction. talking themselves into kisses and hoping that with acquiescence comes a loosening of the ropes, a bigger cage.

some spit and scream and never give up, sparring with words, rattling the bars. trying to break a window, hitting out at the maids, watching intently for any moment in which they could slip out of the door-

and you . . . you simply try and occupy yourself.

brush his hair. ask him about his day. ask him to play chess with you. brush his hair. watch him from your window as he trains his falcon. watch him from your window as he gardens. brush his hair.

when you find a few of his hairs, undeniably silver this time (when you know, you know when you first came here his hair was thick and red and shining as blood), caught in the bristles of the silver-backed hairbrush . . . you weep.

[concealeddarkness13]

WHG 20 Prompt 4 - Ares

Tagging: @ratracechronicler, @maple-writes, @pen-of-roses, @drabbleitout, @grailfish, @forthesanityofsome, and @pied-piper-of-hamlet!

I struggled the whole way to the train, but the fucking Peacekeepers just kept a tight hold of me and threw me into the dining car, slamming the door behind them. I didn’t try to run up to the door and be all dramatic. That would just have made them laugh. So I just glared at the door before I walked more into the car, slumping into a chair. The other tribute was there, getting some food.

Now, he seems like an interesting one. He didn’t seem too surprised about you, my dear.

I huffed and ignored them, instead looking over at him. Asher, possibly? “This sucks, doesn’t it?”

He nodded. “Yeah, sure does.” He watched me, but his gaze wasn’t horrible or intense. Kind of calm actually. “The Peacekeepers don’t seem to like you very much do they?”

I grabbed some food, not answering right away as Primary continued to say stupid shit in my head. “I was one of them, so I guess I pissed them off. Not to mention I could kill them all in an instant.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “You look young for a Peacekeeper, what made you leave?”

“They’re bastards who wanted to use me.” I stuffed a whole pastry in my mouth, and I had to admit, it was good. I glanced over at him. “What about you? How’d you get roped into this? I kind of zoned out during the reaping.”

He shrugged, poking at some of his food. “Honestly it’s already hard to remember for me too. Guess I’m just unlucky though.” He looked up at me. “What was that all about anyway, the transformation you did back there?”

It was nice to talk to someone who was actually listening. I looked down at my hands. “It’s this magic they gave me. I thought it was to get revenge on someone who caused my district to be destroyed and everyone I love to be killed, but they were lying to me. They want me to be come kind of fucked up vessel for a fucked up god.”

He sat up and leaned forward. “Can you tell me more about this god?”

I grimaced as Primary kept distracting me in my head. “They’re this creepy, perfectly preserved corpse the Capitol found deep underground, and now they’re talking in my head.”

He frowned and stood up, walking over to me. “Do you feel it’s attached to you somehow?”

I frowned and sat up, moving a bit away from him. Too many people hurting me recently. He backed up a little, as I took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I know the magic I have is theirs and the Capitol was using my ability to use it as the gauge of whether I could become a good vessel or not.”

He crouched down. “Is it distressing?”

I nodded. “They always talk to me. And they give me nightmares.”

He paused. “Do you want me to try and get rid of it?”

I blinked and really looked at him. He looked serious, not shying away from looking me in the eyes. “You can?”

“Well, I can’t promise anything but I can try.” He smiled. “I’m an exorcist, so if it’s anything like a possession I might be able to help. My name is Asher, by the way.”

I frowned and tilted my head. Was it like a possession? “I’m Ares. Sorry. But yes, please. I want this bastard gone.”

He nodded. “I’ll give it a shot. Does it know I’m going to do this? Or will it be surprised.”

I squeezed my eyes shut to really listen to them, and they laughed at Asher. “They’re laughing at you, so I guess they do.”

“Probably not a good sign…” He sighed.

I also sighed. “Probably not, so if you don’t want to risk it, I understand.”

He shrugged and came closer. “Something else will probably kill me later if this doesn’t so I might as well. Hold still please.” He reached forward, brushing his hand over my chest, around my collarbone until he paused and snatched at something I couldn’t see. And Primary’s voice went quiet. I gasped as he held onto whatever it was tighter, because I could feel the pull from inside of me.

He muttered to himself as he stayed there, and I stayed perfectly still, holding my breath. It was the most boring fight to watch, if it would be called a fight. There seemed to be some kind of horns that looked like an illusion coming from him, and his teeth looked sharper when he talked. But I couldn’t tell what he said.

He started shaking as he leaned in closer, and I gasped as a stab of pain ran through me from my chest, but I still stayed still, not wanting to fuck up whatever he was doing. But he kept getting worse, so I frowned and dared to whisper, “Asher, are you okay?”

He muttered something else and then pulled, and something ripped out of me, and I screamed, curling up on the chair as I felt like I was being burned from the inside out.

When I finally wasn’t blinded by pain, I looked up and saw Asher on the floor, and I scrambled down to kneel next to him. “Are you okay? I’m sorry!”

His chest was heaving, and his eyes were glazed over, but he showed me a feeble thumbs up, so I had to trust him. It took a bit longer, but he finally sat up, hunching over and still shaking. “Did I get it all?”

“I can’t feel them.” They had been silent since he had grasped whatever it was. And I tried to activate my magic, and nothing came. I would miss the magic, but it was worth it to get the bastard out of my head. “I don’t have magic anymore! They’re gone!”

“Oh good.” He smiled, laughing a little. “Not sure I could do that again for a while at least.”

Oh fuck. Had that hurt him? I looked away, wilting a bit and fiddling with my jacket. “I’m sorry. Please don’t do that again for me. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Hm?” He turned to look at me. “Oh, no, don’t worry about it. I probably should have warned you that it can sometimes look pretty rough.” He sat up more. “I’ll admit that was…hard, but I’ll be alright.”

Still, I wasn’t worth it. I had done some terrible things. “I’m sorry. But thank you. Primary was terrible.”

He nodded, getting up to sit on the couch. “Yeah, seemed pretty condescending.”

What had they said to him? “They made me dream of them killing me over and over,” I mumbled, slinking back on the chair and grabbing more food.

He leaned far back into the couch, looking up at the ceiling. “You must be pretty tough then, to endure that so long and not give in.”

I pouted. “They’re so fucking greedy. They’ve been alive for thousands of years and they want to cut mine off when I haven’t even experienced two decades? Fucking rude.”

He nodded. “What a bastard.” He sighed. “I’m honestly surprised they didn’t go after me when they had a chance. For some reason it seems they’re dead set on you in particular.”

I sighed. “I heard the Capitol gave a lot of people the magic, and everyone failed at being able to be a vessel except me.”

He frowned. “Strange. Most beings seem to know I should be easy to take a hold of and try to possess me, so it’s odd that a being looking for a mortal body to use didn’t jump on that.” He paused. “Unless they knew better I guess.”

I frowned, looking over at him. That was interesting. “What do you mean, they knew better?”

He shrugged, grinning a bit. “Might have known better than to assume I wouldn’t know how to resist. Hard to tell though.”

I blinked. He was a lot stronger than I had assumed. “How…how would you resist? I don’t know anything about that.”

“There are a few ways to do it, blocking a spirit or demon or being from taking over your body. Sometimes it’s easiest when you’re just starting out to focus on specific body parts instead of everything at once.” He sat up and looked at me. “For example if you’re not able to keep control over everything try and focus on limbs and try and do the opposite of what you will be compelled to do, like if it tries to throw a punch make a point of holding your arm back behind you. Even if it takes over your voice and you say things that should never be said, you can keep control over some other part of you body and minimize the damage you’re in a better place than if not.” He leaned back again. “Of course, it’s easier said than done.”

I blinked. “Wow. That’s cool! They haven’t tried to take control, I don’t know if they can, but that’s good advice.”

“It helps to be confident, which you already seem to be. He closed his eyes. “And if you’re not, lie so they don’t hear it from you that you aren’t.”

I nodded. “I’ve already been talking shit to them, so I’ve got that down.”

He gave a thumbs up, eyes partially closed, and before I could grab some more food, the door to the car opened, and the man who had caught me at the Reaping walked in with a smirk.

He gestured at me. “Ares Machina, please come with me.”

I stood up. “Guess I don’t have a choice.” He just nodded, so I shoved my hands in my pockets and followed him to the last car of the damn train.

He sat down in a chair, and I followed suit, staring out the windows so I didn’t have to look at him. He laughed a little. “I’m your mentor, so I was hoping to discuss strategy.”

“I don’t intend on hurting anyone, so I’m afraid it won’t be interesting.”

“Don’t you want to survive? You could use your magic to kill everyone in that arena if you wanted to.”

“I don’t want to.” I looked over at him and glared. I couldn’t let him know I didn’t have the magic. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

He leaned forward, tilting his head. “Why fight them? The Capitol will get rid of your soul eventually.”

“Because I learned to keep fighting from this damn Capitol. Fuck what they want now.”

He laughed a little and closed his eyes. “Then there really isn’t anything I can do to help you in the arena. But I can assure you that they haven’t figured out how to destroy a soul yet. They tried with me and only took away my emotions.” He opened his eyes, and they stared straight into me. “You don’t have the magic anymore, do you?” I stiffened, but he waved me off. “I won’t tell them. If I could feel it, I know I would hate them. If you can at least defy them, then something good has come from all this suffering.”

He stood up and looked me over before taking something out of his pocket. “Here. A token from all the failed vessels. I hope you can defy the Capitol better than we could.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and left the car, whistling, and I looked down at the token. It was a coin, just a normal-ass coin.

At least until I hit a tiny button on it, and it transformed into a hollow metal dagger. There was a note inside, and I stared at it.

The Godhunter will become the Godkiller soon enough. We worked on this in secret, and it can trap a soul within it. It can even trap a god’s soul. Use it well.

I held the knife tightly and took a deep breath before turning it back into a coin. I would not fail. The whole world depended on me destroying Primary.

[rytlock-trombone]

Diphylia, Iphirrys, and Allyntu are having fun swimming, playing volleyball, and building sandcastles!! Allyntu also goes looking for pretty rocks and shells to give to her girlfriend Willowyd <3

Ghealeade, Aneidhe, Willowyd, and Niantel spend most of their time at the beach getting some much-needed relaxation in the sunlight. They do join the others in the water and on the volleyball court, but mostly they’re reading, chatting, and napping.

Tesorai, Bluira, and Diarglach are kinda lost at first. They don’t really know what people do at a beach and probably didn’t even want to be there in the first place. Tesorai is pulled into a volleyball game, and once she learns the ropes, she’s actually really good at it. Bluira and Diarglach eventually join their friends relaxing and reading.

Willowyd’s bratty fern hound, Salix, is disgusted by all this sand and seawater and the obnoxious seagulls everywhere. He curls up in Willowyd’s lap while she reads and chases away the seagulls pestering the two of them.

Willowyd’s pet bristleback, Felix, wants to play with the seagulls!! He’s having a great time chasing them around, playing fetch with Willowyd, and running around in the waves.

Willowyd’s pet wyvern, Electrocutie, has to be kept away from seagulls at all costs, or she will eat them and traumatize everyone even more than they already have been. She has a nice time playing fetch.

Aneidhe feels bad for the seagulls who keep trying to steal their food, but Willowyd assures her that the seagulls are probably very well fed and it’s for the best that her pets are keeping them at bay.

Everyone was disgusted by Willowyd and Allyntu ogling each other in their swimsuits. Diphylia threw a potato chip at them, which was promptly snatched up by a seagull.

Pipioko fell asleep and Meirlach covered her in sand.

Meirlach and Niantel wore the sexiest, revealing-est black swimsuits they could possibly find and turned a lot of heads. Diarglach went with a modest maillot, plain blue without any patterns or frills. Diphylia and Allyntu wore colorful patterned swim trunks and rash guards. Iphirrys wore a leopard print bikini. Willowyd chose a dainty white or dark green one-piece with a skirt. Aneidhe wore plain swim trunks and a rash guard. Pipioko wore a simple black one-piece that would have been a little boring on anyone else, but looked fantastic on her. Tesorai wore a black bikini top and matching swim shorts. Bluira didn’t bring a bathing suit and just wore a tank top and shorts because she really didn’t want to be at the beach at all.

what would your ocs do at the beach? Would they nap and read books? Would they stay in the waters and never getting out? Who would play with sands or collect seashells?

[juicegremlin]

Hugs (5+1)

~ 3 ~

Their last game of the season is in two days. Neil has been buzzing with energy for a week straight, watching old Trojan matches, roping Dan and Kevin into countless extra strategy meetings. Not that they mind, of course—if Neil is nervous, they’re downright apoplectic.

Andrew is… there. There to keep Neil grounded, to help him burn off any excess excitement. And it’s nice, to be needed. To be wanted.

Andrew thinks he can admit that.

They’re at practice, and Neil is practically bouncing off the walls. Andrew’s eyes track him across the court, enjoying the give and flex of his calf muscles in those shorts. Neil intercepts one of Kevin’s passes and sends it hurtling into the corner of Renee’s goal.

“Yes, yes, yes!” He shouts, whirling on Kevin. “That’s eleven, get ready to pay up.”

Kevin makes an affronted noise. “Ten, that was ten!”

“Which one of us is the applied mathematics major? It’s eleven.”

Kevin shoots a look back at Andrew, calls across the court. “Ten or eleven?”

Eleven.

“What makes you think I was paying attention?” Andrew counters.

“Andrew, I swear to—”

Wymack bangs on the plexiglass with a fist. “For Christ’s sake, it’s eleven, Day. Learn to count.”

Neil grins at Kevin, wide and toothy through the grate of his helmet. “Just one more. Hey, Matt, what’s the most expensive restaurant you can think of?”

Matt considers the question. “Does it have to be good?”

“Of course not.”

“Alberto’s, then.”

“Excellent choice.”

The game resumes, and Kevin is even pissier than before. He sends shot after shot Andrew’s way, but Andrew denies them all.

There’s some pleasure to be derived, he supposes, from defending his post. An exercise in power, in control. Neil would try to spin it into some sort of metaphor, but it’s not like Andrew would ever present it to him in the first place. Bee, though—Bee might have something to say about it.

But he’s not enjoying himself. He isn’t.

Five minutes pass; no one scores a single goal. Wymack has to break up a brief scuffle between Aaron and Jack, but nothing too major. Andrew rebounds a shot at Jack’s ankle as a reminder to keep his distance.

Neil is electric. He’s zipping back and forth across the court, all power and precision, and that fucking ass—

Andrew grits his teeth.

Neil stops just long enough to catch him looking. A bright, devilish smile splits his lips. Andrew barely catches the glint in his eye before clocking the ball headed directly for his own face.

Andrew manages to side-step, but his answering blow is almost an accident, imbued with far more force than it requires. It sends the ball cracking away from him, over every single head on the court. Andrew watches in a borderline daze as it sails and sails and sails—

—right into the top left corner of Renee’s goal.

Everyone stops. Heads turn in Andrew’s direction, and it’s a cascade—like something out of a bad horror movie. Dan barely stops her own racquet from clattering to the court floor.

Andrew blinks at himself. So rarely is he ever genuinely surprised, but that—that had not been intentional. He doesn’t think it was, anyway, and it’s never—has that ever happened before? To anyone? He’s certainly never managed it. Did he really just do that?

Evidently so, because in the next second, the court erupts into raucous noise. Nicky screeches, Allison breathes a quietly vehement “what the fuck” from where she stands near Andrew’s goal. Kevin’s jaw drops far enough for his mouthguard to fall straight out.

“Did you just see that?” he demands, of no one in particular. “Did I just see that?”

And Neil—Neil is just standing there, racquet gripped loosely in the fingers of his right hand. Andrew can see how wide his eyes are from yards away, wild pinpricks of blue in the middle of his face.

Then he’s moving—moving towards Andrew, and with purpose, tugging off his helmet. He presses it into Aaron’s chest as he passes and Aaron is so dumbfounded that he doesn’t even protest.

“Andrew,” Neil calls, all pink and sweaty and breathing and hot. “Andrew, yes or no?”

Yes or no? To fucking what?

“Yes,” Andrew blurts, because it doesn’t really matter. Neil could ask to kill him right now and Andrew would die sated.

Neil picks up the pace and Andrew just barely manages to get his own helmet off before they’re crashing into each other and Neil’s arms are locked around his waist.

It is nothing like Andrew has ever felt before. If Neil was electric a few minutes ago, then this is completing the circuit—forcing Andrew into his orbit and shouting all his nerves awake.

It should feel bad. It should feel like choking, but it doesn’t. Andrew feels warm and alive and held and impressive.

Something is breaking.

Something is breaking, but for the first time ever, it doesn’t hurt.

Then Neil is lifting, and Andrew’s heels pick up off the ground. His first thought is jesus fucking christ but he doesn’t say no, just grips tighter to Neil’s shoulders because he doesn’t think he wants this to ever stop.

“Holy shit, Drew,” Neil shouts, the sound like a million tiny fighter jets in Andrew’s ear. “That was incredible!”

Andrew makes an unhappy noise, and it is the biggest lie in the history of ever.

“I didn’t think—oh my god, you really just did that. Do you know how fucking nuts that is? Andrew, you’re so good, I can’t believe—”

The rest of Neil’s praise coagulates and finds itself a home behind Andrew’s ribs, pulsing against his heart and making it beat that much faster. Neil lets Andrew down—lets him be tethered to the earth again—and Andrew can’t say he isn’t relieved. He can’t say he is, either.

Neil pulls away just enough to look Andrew in the eye. There’s sweat on his nose, on the bow of his lip. Andrew can’t help but take his thumb and swipe it off.

“Andrew!”

It’s Kevin. He comes up to Andrew’s goal, helmetless and interrupting. Andrew bristles and he’s sure Neil can feel it.

“Can you do that again?” Kevin exclaims. “Andrew, you have to do that again, you—”

“Fuck off, Kevin,” Neil snaps, letting his arms fall away from Andrew’s waist. Andrew damned-near mourns the loss of contact.

“Neil, did you see that?” Kevin gestures widely and vaguely across the court. “That was—could you imagine—”

Neil holds up a hand. “That’s twelve. You owe us dinner.”

Kevin’s jaw hangs slack again. His eyes flit from Neil to Andrew like he expects Andrew to do something about it, but Andrew doesn’t so much as shrug.

By the time Kevin goes catatonic enough to leave, Andrew has more or less come back to himself. He still feels the ghost of Neil’s fingers over his ribs, pressing. Holding.

“Was that okay?” Neil asks, turning back to him.

Andrew doesn’t let anything show on his face. “Was what okay?”

“The—that, jackass. I should have… was it too much?”

Neil’s excitement colors with apprehension, and no, no, no, that won’t do—Andrew can’t let him look like that right now.

“I said yes,” Andrew tells him. “I meant it.”

And Neil’s already flushed, but Andrew can tell when a deeper red arrives to pinch beneath Neil’s freckles.

“I’m going to—” Neil waves a hand. “Anyway.”

He gives Andrew’s hand a squeeze before turning on his heel. He only makes it two steps, then he’s doubling back, taking Andrew’s hand again and leaning in close.

“You are incredible,” he says.

A kiss to Andrew’s nose—his fucking nose.

Neil takes off for the other end of the court, leaving utter destruction in his wake.

-

-

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | +1

Good morning, I’m fucking tired. Take this.

[laughing-with-god]

The Unsaid Vow (Prologue)

Synopsis- You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.

Warnings- Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a four-year-old (I never wrote for a kid before pls gimme a break), also I chose my future son's name for this fic but pls feel free to name him whatever you want :)

Slow burn Yandere Husband Jungkook

Word Count; 5.4k

Unlike the vast majority of married couples, neither you nor Jungkook donned wedding rings.

Never in your five years of marriage did you regret this decision, given it was brought upon by you and your husband’s lack of funds for fancy wedding bands at the time of your rushed marriage.

Well, you were never annoyed....until tonight, that is.

The scene before you was exceptionally intimate, so much so that you felt the instinctual need to look away in respect of the two before you.

The woman was gorgeous, effortlessly attracting all the attention the small conference room had to offer. In addition to this natural charisma spurred on by her borderline enchanting looks, her short and skin-tight red dress showed off her pleasantly curvy body. Her long, silky, and jet-black hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail that provided a simple background for her darling features. Utterly doll-like was her face; petite, creamy in complexion with bright doe eyes and berry-pink lips.

Such a beautiful woman was currently in the arms of an equally, if not more so, attractive man.

He was tall and slender, yet not at all lanky given his sturdy build that was a testament to his strict workout regime. His olive skin was complimented with occasional tattoos, a mix of faded and fresh ink that you knew like the back of your hand despite only the tats on his hand currently showing in his crisp Valentino suit. His mid-length inky black hair was down to frame his sharp face, and indeed it was a very handsome one consisting of full eyebrows, bow-like lips, a fleshy yet impish nose, and two large, yet seemingly bottomless, raven orbs.

This man had his arms encircling the middle of the mysterious woman, her expression lifting into a light-hearted giggle as she leaned forward to whisper something in his ear.

Whatever she said must’ve been amusing to the man, given his usual stoic facade briefly melted away as he allowed a small smile at her words, his pearly round teeth peeking out for a split-second appearance.

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that these two were lovers.

But there was only one problem with this scene.

That was your husband, Jungkook.

And that woman in his arms was not you.

As if sensing your distress and wanting to soothe your well-founded suspicion, Jungkook pulled away from the woman and ran his gaze across the room- only stopping when he spotted you. Your spouse then gestured at you, the girl following his line of sight and landing on you and your pitiful spot by the snack table. Her joyful expression briefly dropped for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it second, but she quickly plastered on another grin and nodded. The two then strode their way over to you, barely giving you enough time to steel your nerves and muster a polite purse of the lips.

Before you knew it, the woman was right in front of you with your partner at her side instead of yours. Much to your dismay, she was only more attractive up close, and you narrowly held back a grimace as she held out a hand in introduction. You took it and shook it lifelessly.

“Hello, you must be Mrs. Jeon. I’m Sana, Jungkook’s colleague.” Even her voice was pretty, musical and light to the ears.

“H-Hi, nice to meet you but please call me Y/n.” A brief and awkward pause as Sana briefly sized you up and down. “Um, Jungkook has never mentioned you….” you trailed off, side-eyeing your husband in hopes he would intervene and add context to this random goddess he’s thrust upon you.

Jungkook gracefully took his cue and explained, “Sana transferred from another branch out of the city and has only been with us for five months. I’m her case supervisor and have been taking care of her, showing her the ropes and whatnot.”

Sana didn’t even spare you a glance as she fondly looked up at your husband, coyly biting her lip and saying in a much softer tone that could've been just for his ears only, “And he’s been really good at taking care of me.”

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous stay-at-home wife who obsessed over the tiniest details between her husband and other women, but the double meaning behind her badly-whispered comment was enough to make you splutter in disbelief. However before you could even gather up the courage to ask just what the hell ‘taking care of me’ consisted of, two new faces waltzed up and joined the conversation.

“Are you all enjoying this fabulous Christmas party?” A tall, broad-shouldered but nice-looking man asked in a tone of familiar amicability.

You thankfully smiled up at him, having met him many times before.

His name was Jin, and he was the one who got Jungkook this job.

It occurred about five years ago when you first told Jungkook that you were pregnant. Being the romantic but overall good guy that Jungkook was, he insisted that you two get married so that your child could have parents who were at least husband and wife. In addition it would also lessen the judgment in your two families, which at the time was extremely appealing to you. You had agreed to marry on one condition: after running to the courthouse you two would need to move in together in a decent apartment with a room for the nursery. But getting an apartment would mean month-to-month rent, and Jungkook’s tattooing gigs weren’t stable enough to ensure that.

Jin was originally a friend of Jungkook’s older brother, but when he heard through the grapevine about the issue, he bought Jungkook a couple of suits and offered him a job at the corporation he worked at.

Now Jungkook made more than enough money to support your little family, and it was all because Jin took a chance on a college drop-out and his knocked-up girlfriend.

You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off by the unknown lady beside Jin.

“I’d say a little too much fun if anything. Sana and Jungkook, we get that you're the infamous office couple but maybe tone it down a bit, huh?” She joked while raising her brows at the close proximity between the two.

A long and tortuous silence swept the scene.

Jin glanced at you, pity swimming in his usually carefree eyes.

Not trusting your voice to say anything and desperately wanting to hide your face from the piercing eyes, you distracted yourself by taking calculated sips of watered-down eggnog.

“Daehyun...this is actually Y/n, Jungkook’s wife,” Jin told the lady in an uncomfortable voice.

You didn’t know what stung more, the fact that this stranger thought that there was more chemistry between Sana and your husband than with you, or that it was Jin who corrected this mistake and not Jungkook himself.

“O-Oh, well it’s nice to meet you.” Daehyun awkwardly said to you while avoiding direct eye contact.

You offered a tight smile, “Pleasure.”

Whatever gratitude you could’ve had for Daehyun’s clear embarrassment quickly vanished when the woman went on to continue, “I’m sorry. Jungkook never mentioned being married and he doesn’t wear a ring so I didn’t even know. I bet it must be interesting for his housewife to meet his office wife though, right?”

She laughed, not realizing that she only succeeded in putting a foot in her mouth right before stomping it all over your pesky little heart. The group didn’t seem to share your uneasiness, all three of them politely chuckling along to the lukewarm joke at your expense. Once again, you focused on your dwindling beverage to avoid the burden of speaking or even facing them directly, too scared that your miserable expression would be unanimously inspected.

“Well, we just came over to recruit you all for some karaoke!” Jin cheerfully announced, clearly trying to change the subject, “There’s a machine in the break-out room and it’s more fun to sing with a group.”

“More like you want an audience.” Jungkook wittingly teased, a handsome smirk on his face as Sana playfully scolded him with a push to the chest.

“I’ll take your jabs now Kookie because I know they stem from your insecurity that I can actually upstage you in the vocals department.” Jin rebutted in good nature, even letting your husband’s old nickname slip.

Daehyun and Sana both guffawed at this declaration, exaggerated disbelief present on their faces.

“Jungkook is the best singer in the office. He’ll upstage you without even trying.” Daehyun said in a tenor of utter confidence.

“Only one way to find out!” Jin brushed the comment off, pointing to the direction of the assumed breakout room, “Karaoke anyone?”

The so-called office wife nodded enthusiastically, taking your husband’s arm and looking up at him to plead, “Can we do a duet of that one song we like?”

Jungkook, for the first time in seemingly hours, shot you with a questioning gaze.

Be married to someone for a while and you’ll learn how to decipher what they’re trying to say with just mere looks. Your husband was wordlessly inquiring if you were going to join, if he should go along with the group or if you two should break away and do something else.

The ball was finally in your court.

Not wanting to be rude but needing to get away from these people before you lost your cool, you decided on a subtle excuse.

“I need a refill, but maybe we can meet you all later?” You said, shaking your empty paper cup as if to prove your case.

“Oh, well the drinks are right behind you.” Sana condescendingly pointed out, tightening her hold on your husband and began steering him towards the exit, “We’ll save a seat for you.”

Bewildered, you watched as Jungkook obediently followed her lead with the Daehyun girl trailing behind.

He didn’t even spare you a glance.

You wanted to be angry.

You wanted to storm up to your husband, yank him out of the clutches of his colleagues and practically drag him back home under the premise that he would never speak to Sana ever again.

But instead of a righteous rage fueled by the marital vows you two took, utter exhaustion bestowed upon you and prevented any instigation on your part.

Maybe earlier in your marriage you would’ve fought for his attention, but now you simply just wanted to go home and lick your wounds with the help of a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream while self-obsessing over Sana’s outrageous attractiveness. After all, who could blame any hot-blooded man for choosing that goddess over you? What could you possibly do but lean back and accept that she was the obvious choice?

Other than her being a knockout beauty while you were merely average on your best day, she had other qualities that made her a more appealing catch. She was most likely younger than you, obviously fit, more ambitious and professionally driven than you, and presumably has no kids.

Meanwhile, you were just an old stay-at-home mom who lived off of her husband’s paychecks while he fucked his coworkers behind her oblivious back.

Before you could draw more detailed comparisons between Sana and yourself, you felt a large hand place itself on the middle of your back, successfully guiding your attention to the only person who bothered staying by your side.

Jin smiled sadly at you, sympathy shadowing his expression as he gestured with his other hand to the empty cup still in your hold. “Let’s get you some more eggnog.”

You nodded wordlessly, still speechless from the interaction, and allowed the taller man to guide you towards the snack table. Jin then took your cup and refilled it himself, providing you the opportunity to pick at the catered food in some cheap attempt at stress eating. By the time Jin came back with a full cup, you were halfway done with a sugar cookie and eyeing the meatballs next.

“Here ya go,” Jin said as he handed over the drink to you. You took it and nodded in thanks but kept your eyes glued to the food, not wanting him to see just how defeated and tired your face probably was. But, Jin wasn’t going to let the whole thing go. “Y/n….I know what you saw and heard looks really bad but trust me….nothing is going on between Sana and Jungkook.”

You snorted. “It doesn’t just look bad, Jin. It was like they were practically rubbing it in my face. Him having an affair isn’t the problem, it’s the way they’re not even bothering to keep it down. The least they could do is be discreet.”

Jin’s jaw slightly dropped, “‘Him having an affair isn’t the problem’? Y/n, do you even hear yourself? Of course that would be a problem! Do you not care about your own marriage anymore?”

And there it was.

The big question.

Did you truly even care about this marriage?

Well, let’s look at the facts.

One: The disrespect of his alleged mistress was more offensive to you than the fact that she was a mistress.

Two: Jungkook dragging you along to this office Christmas party was the first time in over a year that he bothered to take you out.

Three: You two had humble beginnings and could barely afford food, much less wedding bands when you first got married, but now he was a very wealthy man and had no excuse for not buying you or himself a ring. Unless, of course, he enjoyed acting single around other women.

Four: And on top of all this, it had to be factored in how distant he has been with overwhelming work hours that prevented any alone time with your husband. Sex with Jungkook has been off the table for almost a year now.

But did any of this really bother you until tonight? The answer was a resounding no. You were willing to take all those burdens in stride but tonight it wasn’t just about the fact that you were the unwanted wife Jungkook got sacked with, it was the fact that you were humiliated and forced to face the type of girl Jungkook should’ve been married to all along. That was all you were truly upset about.

The conclusion that you indeed didn’t care about your marriage and haven’t in some time now hit you in a sudden wave, but in no way were you shocked.

Voice shaky and brittle, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with Jin and say the one thing you always secretly thought but never dared utter out loud. “I-I guess I always expected it to end like this. When we were younger, he was always the popular one and all the girls wanted him. We were only dating for three months when I got pregnant, and if it weren’t for our son he probably would’ve dumped me eventually and left for another girl. But, he stuck around for his kid because he’s a good father. And I’ve been nothing but a burden to him for a while now.”

Tears began to blur your vision, forcing you to quickly duck down and quietly sip at your drink so as to not embarrass yourself even more.

You heard a shuffle and suddenly Jin was holding you, using both of his lengthy arms to cage you in and rest you against his broad chest. It had been a long time since a man had held you like that, and you practically went boneless at the contact. You closed your eyes and tried to will away the incoming tears, even going so far as to solely focus on the scent of Jin’s cologne as he soothingly said, “Y/n, listen closely to what I’m about to say. You and Hugo were never a burden to Jungkook, and you two never will be. Your marriage was sudden, but it doesn’t make it less valid than any other marriage out there. Jungkook has been with you for so long, he just doesn’t realize when other women are interested in him because he’s been off the market forever. But I promise you, if I knew for even a second that he cheated, I would tell you right away.”

You didn’t say anything.

Although Jin’s words were comforting, they weren’t necessarily true. A marriage that started from a healthy courtship and true love instead of inconvenient circumstances was of course more valid than yours. And even though you were sure of Jin’s honesty and loyalty to you, Jungkook could’ve easily kept his affair secret from Jin as well.

However, you didn’t wish to concern Jin anymore. You already put him through too much awkwardness tonight and didn’t want to keep him by your side as some sort of emotional sponsor any longer than you already have. Jin always loved parties and was the life of any one he was invited to, even if it was just a lame annual office gathering. You then felt guilty for putting Jin in a situation where he would even have to console you when he should be out enjoying karaoke with the rest of his coworkers.

You promptly pulled away from Jin and wiped at your face. He released you and also took a step back, carefully studying you for any signs of further turmoil. Once sure that your face was acceptably dry, you gazed back up at him and offered a thankful smile. “Thanks Jin, I’m sorry I just dumped all of that on you. I really have to use the ladies' room though, can you point me to it?”

“It’s right by the conference room,” Jin informed, pointing out the general direction for you. You nodded and took a few steps toward it before he grasped your wrist to stop you and ask, “Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just find you and Jungkook when I’m out. Go and join the others for karaoke.”

Jin nodded but seemed unsure.

You didn’t look back to see if he actually went to follow the others, instead just advancing to the restrooms, secretly looking forward to some alone time even if it had to come from a public bathroom.

Once you entered the restroom you were relieved to find it completely empty, you weren’t sure if you could handle another run-in with Jungkook’s female colleagues. They all seemed to have a personal vendetta against you.

Instantly, you dashed to the mirror to inspect your makeup, assuming at least the mascara was ruined from your little cry. Thankfully, the damage was minimal and you were able to clean the smudges up with a damp napkin. You focused all your attention on the dreadfully small task, trying not to study your reflection too much given it would just conjure up more mental comparisons to all the other prettier women you encountered that night.

Yet the small task couldn’t last a lifetime, and you had to resort to looking at your phone in search of things to do. You weren’t emotionally ready to go out and search for your husband, so you wanted to prolong your time in the bathroom. Although it hasn’t been that long since you left the house, you decided to text the babysitter for any updates about your son.

To Emily: Hey, is everything okay with Hugo?

It only took about 40 seconds for the teenage neighbor girl to text back an answer, clearly on top of things and overly eager to provide any updates.

Emily: Yes! He ate his dinner, took his bath and we’re about to get ready for bed.

Your motherly instincts were satisfied with that response, but it didn’t do anything to subdue your desire to return back home. Your thumbs briefly hovered over the keypad, somewhat hesitant with the next text you were about to send.

To Emily: Great, thanks again for doing this. Listen, I think we might head back home sooner than we thought. Don’t worry tho, I’ll still give you the pay for the full four hours.

Before you could wait for a response from her, the sound of multiple incoming footsteps interrupted the steady silence in the restroom. Muffled female conversation could also be heard, the slight laughter and bickering amongst a group of women approaching the bathroom. Your fight or flight instinct was triggered, and to avoid any more awkward encounters you rushed to the nearest stall and shut the door- fully prepared to wait out the faceless group of female colleagues.

You heard the restroom door swish open before the women burst in, chatting and giggling with their heels clicking against the tile floor. One of the unknown females made way to the stall beside you, the others presumably hovering by the mirror if the sudden comments about their appearances were anything to go by. You quietly sighed and pulled out your phone again, ready to drown out their office politics talk.

Only for the conversation to somehow steer towards you.

“Did you see her?”

“Of course, I was very confused, to be honest.” One of them replied. “I mean….look at Jungkook and you just assume that whoever he’s with is drop-dead gorgeous, and she was just eh.”

“Yeah, she was pretty plain. What was her name again?”

“Y/n.” A third voice cut in, this one eerily familiar to you.

You glued a hand over your mouth to silence your gasp.

It was Sana.

“Did he ever mention her around you? You are the closest to him in the office Sana, and we didn’t even know he had a wife until tonight.”

“No, I didn’t know until tonight either.”

“What?! That’s insane. Literally all the time he spends with you: getting coffee, buying you lunch, driving you home after late nights, and he conveniently never mentions that he has a wife at home?”

“That’s suspicious. But I guess if I had a dog like that at home, I’d never mention her either.”

Cruel laughter from all of them.

The toilet from the stall next to you flushed, then opened as a new voice entered the discussion while she approached the sinks.

“It’s more than suspicious. He doesn’t even wear a wedding ring. And he’s so close to Sana but never mentioned that he’s married?” A pause as she washed her hands. “It’s obvious what he’s trying to do. Jungkook is trying to have an affair with Sana.”

Although this exchange was extremely hurtful to you, you felt somewhat relieved that you weren’t the only one to see what your husband was doing.

A pause hung in the air as none of the women spoke for a minute, they were willing to gossip but apparently outright declaring the obvious was a step too far for them.

Eventually, one of them chimed in with their own observation.

“Can you blame him? Sana you’re the most beautiful person in the office and you look so good next to him anyway. Much better than that cow Y/n.”

Another round of obnoxious laughter that broke your heart.

“C’mon guys. We gotta head back. Jungkook is gonna get anxious if Sana is away for too long.” Someone teased.

They all murmured in agreement, heading towards the exit as a group before one stopped them with a final question.

“Wait, Sana. If Jungkook does want to have an affair with you, what are you going to do?”

Although you couldn’t physically see Sana, you practically heard the smirk on her face as she said, “Who says we already aren’t having one?”

--

Needless to say, you ditched the Christmas party almost immediately after the bathroom incident.

You texted Jungkook a white lie about Emily struggling with Hugo, although a good father would’ve known something was up because your son had never given babysitters any trouble before. But luckily, your husband also wasn’t doing so hot in the dad department either.

You would’ve felt bad for not telling the truth if the truth wasn’t so fucking embarrassing.

“Hey, I’m gonna go home to cry like a little girl because I caught your coworkers talking shit about me. Oh, and also your little girlfriend accidentally let it slip that you’ve been fucking her this whole time. K talk to ya later!”

You grimaced at the thought of actually sending that text.

Sure it’s what that cheating bastard deserves, but you just weren’t emotionally ready for that fight yet. Especially after the night you endured, you needed some time to pick yourself up and figure out what to do next.

Divorce was the next logical step, but you were financially dependent on Jungkook. If you moved out and took Hugo with you, where would you two stay? How could you afford to be a single parent? And if Jungkook were to try to fight you for custody or the divorce in general, you would need a damn good lawyer. Unfortunately, lawyers weren’t cheap, especially one that stood a chance against Jungkook and all his wealth.

Your shoulders sagged with the imaginary weight of all these burdens.

When you entered the high-rise penthouse that you called home, you were surprised to see Emily anxiously pacing the foyer in waiting for your arrival.

“Hey, how was Hugo?” You greeted politely, already opening your clutch to pull out the agreed-upon salary.

“M-Mrs. Jeon, I swear I tried to have him in bed by eight like you said but he’s being stubborn and said he won’t go to sleep until you come back and read to him-” The teenager rushed out all at once, clearly nervous that you would scold her.

You held a hand out to stop her rambles, using your other hand to give her the money, and offered her what you hoped was a comforting smile, “It’s okay, Em. Thanks for doing this on such short notice. Why don’t you run home now and try to enjoy your Christmas Eve?”

Emily looked relieved that you weren’t mad, gratefully taking the cash before grabbing her jacket and shoes to make her exit. “Thanks so much for this Mrs. Jeon. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas.” You farewelled while walking the young girl out, locking the door behind her.

You turned around and proceeded down a long hallway that led to the bedrooms, stopping at the door beside the master room which belonged to your four-year-old son. You opened it to peer inside, the familiar deep blue walls with painted-on sea creatures greeting you back, swiftly reminding you once more of Hugo’s obsession with the ocean.

Your son was bundled up in a twin bed so big that it practically drowned him, his small frame barely being recognizable in the large fish-printed duvet wrapped around his tiny frame, only his small and adorable face peeking out to stare right back at you.

Hugo was essentially a carbon copy of Jungkook. At first you were somewhat resentful about this, how was it possible that you carried a baby for nine months and he came out with absolutely none of your features? But after a while of watching Hugo grow up and come into his own slowly but surely, you were pacified by the conclusion that while he may look exactly like his father, his personality and heart took after you.

“Dumpling, why did Emily say you were giving her a hard time and wouldn’t go to bed?” You asked gently, sitting by his side and petting his black hair.

‘Dumpling’ was a nickname you chose for Hugo since you first found out you were pregnant with him. It stemmed from your sudden pregnancy craving to eat dumplings and nothing else, you once even going two straight weeks surviving off the food. There were many times where Jungkook had to bribe you into eating other things, playing on your guilt for not providing your baby all the nutrition he needed. But even now ‘Dumpling’ still stuck, if Hugo’s chubby cheeks were anything to go by.

“Mommy, I-I’m sorry but-” His big doe eyes looked up at you in teary guilt, “I really needed you here. It was a nece-necess-”

“Necessity, bub.” You finished for him, grinning at his attempt at a big word.

Part of you wanted to scold the boy for being difficult, but you didn’t have the heart to. Lately, Hugo has been more clingy to you than ever before. Yet it was practically impossible to punish him because Hugo has always been a good kid and you knew deep down that he didn’t act out unless there was something else going on. You suspected that it had something to do with the lack of his father’s presence that forced him to hold onto you like his life depended on it.

“Well try not to do it again, okay? Emily is a nice girl and she’s just following my orders when she tells you to go to bed.” You said, ducking down to peck the crown of his head and continue running your fingers through his hair.

Hugo nodded in understanding but ultimately stayed silent, basking in your cuddles.

All was silent for a passing moment, and while Hugo enjoyed his mother’s touch, your mind gradually returned to the turmoil that was your marriage.

A sudden epiphany struck you and bit your lip as you debated an idea.

Should you expose your son to your future plan?

The victim of any divorce has always been the children who were left behind. And the last thing you wanted to do was blindside Hugo. Perhaps you should play the hypothetical game just to see where your son’s head was at? It went without saying that Hugo was closer to you than Jungkook and you were more of a parent than your husband. But still, every kid deserved to have a say in their parents’ divorce.

“Bub, how would you feel if….it was just me and you?” You hesitantly inquired.

“What do you mean mommy?” Hugo titled his head in bewilderment and craned his neck to look back up at you.

“What if me and you went away to live together?” You clarified.

“Like a va-vayca-”

“Vacation? And no. But forever. Just me, you and no one else.” You whispered, as if Jungkook himself would storm in and catch you planning your escape with the toddler.

“Oh.” A pause as you could practically hear the mechanisms in his four-year-old brain trying to work out the logistics of what you just proposed. “Okay.”

The nonchalance in his youthful voice had you taken aback.

“It’s a really big decision, Hugo. You wouldn’t mind...not living with daddy anymore, right? You would hardly ever see him, dumpling.”

The boy shifted to lean more of his body against you, essentially resting against you with his head on your chest as he said, “But it’s like that already, mommy.”

Your heart broke.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer to you, feeling a maternal instinct to comfort and protect.

“Okay Dumpling. I need you to promise me not to tell daddy what we talked about.”

“”Kay.” Hugo yawned and closed his eyes, inhaling deep breaths of your scent and beginning the process of falling asleep. “When do we leave?”

“It’ll take some time, bub. You start school in a few months, so mommy will try to find a job while you’re there.” You told him, not bothering to try to explain the concept of a lawyer or apartment deposits on top of that. “But we can do this. It has to be a secret but you're my partner in crime.”

“Like spies?”

You chuckled, “Yeah, like spies. Promise to work with mommy in utter secrecy?”

You held up a pinky, one that Hugo grasped with his own.

“Promise.”

Author’s Note:  So....A while ago before I took my long ass hiatus, I did a poll for which yandere story I should write next.  The Unsaid Vow won but that was around the same time that shit hit the fan in my life.  Recently was scrolling through my notes on my phone and found some of the plot points for this story and I needed a lil break from QQ.  Plus I know so many ppl were hyped for this concept so....Here ya go lol.  This is kinda short but it’s just a set up, Chapter one’s plot line will start a few months after this when Hugo will start kindergarten and Y/n will actually start looking in to jobs, lawyers and apartments.  Also I’m sorry but I’m really bad at writing for kids lol, and I absolutely refuse to write that gross ass baby talk so just pretend your son is a lil genius okay? Also srry Once but I needed really pretty girls to be villians in my story so yeah, Twice girls in here aren’t likable but aren’t reflective of how i actually feel about them lol.

Big thanks to @sushireads​ once again for creating the cover art for this fic.  They literally are becoming my go-to for fic art.

And my beta readers @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop​! They beta’d for QQ and I came to them really early about this fic.  They were with me since the beginning and have given me advice with creative choices to just simple grammar.  They easily could’ve leaked the first draft of this too but they didn’t and kept it secret for a while.  I was really insecure about getting out of my comfort zone with this plot but they really guided me.  

[neverasfarawayasitmayseemxo]

It’s Like Fate

I can’t stop writing stories about this man! This is a story where you meet Austin at the premiere. Please enjoy! 🤗 (I don’t really care for the title but oh well, I didn’t know what to name it lol)

“Wow, this is crazy!” your friend Penelope squeals.

You nod, unable to speak as you look around at the chaos before you. Your friend dragged you to the premiere of Elvis. You weren’t necessarily a huge Elvis fan but you did like some of his songs. Penelope loved celebrities and all things pop culture. Back in 2008, she was first in line at the premiere for Twilight because of her obsession with Robert Pattinson. Her persistence got her a nice picture with him AND Taylor Lautner at that premiere. Tonight, Penelope was very excited to meet Tom Hanks, he was her favorite actor after all.

The premiere was pretty wild. The red carpet was rolled out and there was a mass amount of fans lining both sides.

“Thank god we are right against this rope” she said looking down and grabbing it to steady herself.

“I can’t believe how crazy this is! All for a movie” you say and shake your head in disbelief.

Penelope looks at you, eyes wide.

“This isn’t just any movie, [Y/N]. This is ELVIS. This will for sure be Oscar nominated. Plus, the guy who plays Elvis is so damn cute” she explains. She stands on her tip toes and looks around.

“Where are they?!” she asks.

You look and watch the other fans holding up their phones and merchandise to be signed. You liked celebrities but you weren’t obsessed with them like Penelope was. They were just normal people. They did normal things. What was the big hype?

Suddenly, screams erupted and people started to push you.

“Oh my god!!!!!!! They’re here!!!!!!!“ Penelope jumps up and down excitedly.

You look over and watch as the cast gets out of the black stretch limousine.

The first one to get out was a very VERY attractive man. You’ve never seen a boy with such perfect hair in your life.

“Who the hell is that?“ you ask, unable to take your eyes off of him. He wore a black button down shirt exposing a lot of chest. His silky black pants complimented his black boots.

“That’s Austin Butler. Oh my god, I can’t even look at him” she cries. “He plays Elvis! AUSTIN!!!!!!”

You watch as he makes his way down the carpet posing for pictures with fans and grabbing their black sharpies to sign posters and tshirts.

“There’s Tom Hanks!!!!!!!! I need a picture!!!!! TOM HANKS!!!!!” she screams, waving her hands frantically.

You look over at her and laugh. She was absolutely crazy but you loved her for it.

“Hey there”

You look up and your mouth drops. It was Austin Butler. He was standing right in front of you.

“Hi” you say with a smile.

He had beautiful blue eyes, as blue as the sky on a cloudless summer day.

“Thank you for coming” he smiles.

“Oh….uh….of course” you say.

“Oh my god….TOM!!!!!!!” Penelope screams right in your ear.

You and Austin both look at her and laugh.

“Big fan?” he asks.

You nod.

“Austin, keep it moving” a woman with slick black hair says. Maybe it was his publicist?

Everyone was screaming his name, throwing their hands in the air, reaching to try and touch him but he wouldn’t move.

The “maybe” publicist started to push him forward but he stopped and held out his hand to you.

You look down and grab it. You could hardly breathe. What was he doing?

“What’s your name?“ he asks.

“[Y/N]” you say loudly so he could hear over the screaming fans.

He squeezed your hand. “[Y/N]” he repeats as he gives you a once over with his eyes. “I’ll remember that”

His publicist pushed him down to greet more fans.

“Did. That. Just. Happen?” Penelope paused after each word she said.

You were taken aback. You couldn’t believe it either.

“I don’t know….pinch me” you say, jokingly.

Penelope squeezes your arm.

“Ow!” you squeak, grabbing your arm to rub away the pain.

“Hey! You told me to!” she says. “Oh my god….TOM!!!!!!” she yells, erratically, trying to get his attention.

You turned back towards the carpet and sigh. Austin Butler wanted to know your name. Maybe going to this premiere wasn’t so bad after all.

~

“I’m so happy I got a free poster!” Penelope says as you find your way to your seats in the movie theater.

It was packed full of people. Thankfully, Penelope ordered tickets way in advance so you were both able to get seats.

You look down at the poster you were given and run your fingers along Austin’s chin.

“You like him, don’t you?”

You look up and Penelope crosses her arm and gives a cheeky smile.

“What? No, what? He’s a celebrity. He’s whatever” you say and roll up the poster.

“Admit it, [Y/N]. You think he’s soooooo cute and you totally want him” she sings.

You shake your head. Sometimes Penelope was so immature.

“Yeah, yeah. For sure” you say, just to get her to shut up.

Suddenly, everyone in their seats began to scream.

You both look down and see Baz Luhrman, Austin Butler and Tom Hanks walk infront of the giant screen.

“TOM!!!!!!!” Penelope squeals again.

But you are just fixated on Austin. Jesus Christ, he was so hot. You couldn’t stop looking at every part of him. His hair. His height. His chest. His eyes. Everything was mesmerizing to you

“Thank you all so much for coming to the premiere of Elvis! We hope you enjoy the show!” Baz says into a microphone.

You watch as Austin’s eyes search the crowd.

“We couldn’t be more pleased with how this movie came to be. We had a lot of hard working people create this masterpiece.” Baz continued.

Austin’s eyes continued to look into the crowd. For some crazy reason, you felt like he was looking for you. You shook the crazy thought from your brain.

“We couldn’t have done it without our amazing Elvis” Baz exclaimed. The theater erupted with applause.

Austin took the mic and smiled.

“Thank you so much. It means the world to me” he says. Suddenly, Austin’s eyes are on you.

“I….uh…I’m excited to share this with you all. I’m not sure what else to say other than thank you for coming out tonight. For taking the time out of your busy day to come here and see this movie. It truly warms my heart” he says, as if you were the only girl in the room.

Austin hands the mic to Tom and he says his thanks. You look away shyly and then back up again but Austin was still looking at you.

“Dude. He’s STARING at you!” Penelope whispers into your ear.

You nod without breaking his gaze.

“He is…isn’t he?” you say.

He winks.

At that moment, the lights go off and the room begins to applaud.

You strain to see where he goes in the dark. You watch as he, Tom and Baz are whisked off out of the theater.

“Gahhhh, I’m so excited!!!!!” Penelope says.

“Me too” you say, biting your lip. You weren’t sure what you were really excited for, the movie about to begin or the fact that Austin Butler couldn’t stop looking at you.

~

The movie ended and the applause erupted again.

“That was absolutely spectacular” Penelope says as you both exit the theater.

“It was really good” you say. The entire time you couldn’t stop thinking about Austin. Watching him on the screen made you like him more and more.

“Tom Hanks was brilliant!” Penelope brags. You laugh and nod.

“Austin was….perfect” you say quietly.

“You loooooooove him” Penelope sings and dances around you. “Oh my god. Imagine if you date him!?”

You shake your head.

“Oh stop it. He’d never date me. I’m not even famous. I’m nobody” you explain to her. He wouldn’t date you, you thought. This was just some crazy thing where he just looked at you and that was it. It didn’t mean anything. This would all pass and nothing would come of it.

“Excuse me”

You and Penelope turn around to come face to face with the same lady with the slick black hair that was pushing Austin on the carpet before.

“Is your name…” the lady trails off as she looks down at the clipboard in her hand.

“[Y/N]?” she finishes.

Your stomach starts to flip as if you were on a rollercoaster going 100mph.

“Um…” you start to say.

“Yes, this is [Y/N]!” Penelope says enthusiastically. She grabs my arm and shakes me a bit.

The lady looks at me.

“Hmmm…white off the shoulder jumpsuit…” she says looking back down at her clipboard. “Yes, it seems you’re [Y/N]”

You nod and she could tell you were a little confused.

“Austin sent me out here to find you. He wanted to come out himself but I refused, considering…well, he’s a huge star and we don’t need any more fans bombarding him” she explains.

You nod once again.

“So, this is for you” she says and rips a piece of paper off of her board and hands it to you.

You look down at it and read what it says.

There’s something about you…Please attend the premiere party at my house tomorrow at 8pm. Here’s my address…you can bring your friend.

Xo , A

“Oh my god…..we are invited to a party!!!!!!” Penelope squeals, jumping up and down.

“Please” the lady says with an eye roll. “Do not lose that paper. We don’t need Austin’s address all over town”

You nod. “I won’t, I promise”

The lady smiles, “See you tomorrow girls”

She turns on her feet and walks away.

You look at Penelope and her mouth is wide open.

“I can’t believe we are invited to Austin Butler’s house!!!!!!!!!” she whispered. “It must be LOVE at first sight!!!”

You look down at the piece of paper again. You felt your heart flutter with excitement.

“It looks like we are going to have to go shopping tomorrow” you say with a grin.

Penelope squeals and grabs your hand. You both walk out of the theater and into the cool summer night.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

A new servant desperately struggles to understand what exactly Merlin is:

A cryptid? Arthur's boyfriend? Simply a dude? The court jester? Something else entirely? Who knows, certainly not the new guy.

The first time the new kitchen-hand, Tristan, saw The King’s dark-haired servant sprinting down the corridor, he couldn’t tell if the man was laughing or crying.

He was fast, faster than Tristan thought possible for someone whose arms were so full of laundry, but he politely steps out of the way, coming to the conclusion that he must’ve been late for something. At least... he did think that, until he turns the next corner to see three of The king’s most trusted knights peering out of windows and into random doors. Tristan freezes in the corridor, he’d heard that servants were treated extremely well here, but he’d only been employed for a few days and he didn’t want to risk anything by pushing past or addressing his betters.

One of the knights, Sir Leon, his brain helpfully supplies, spots him stood there, and his annoyed frown quickly morphs into a friendly smile:

“Pardon me, sorry, I don’t suppose you’ve seen Merlin around anywhere, have you?”

Tristan’s eyes go wide and the grip he has on his tray tightens, but he forces himself to take a breath and answer, trying his best to keep his voice even:

“Merlin is... The King’s manservant? Tall, with dark hair?”

Another knight pushes forward, he looks to be the oldest, with dark hair falling in an almost deliberately tousled way around his bearded jawline. His charming grin seems just a little too wide to be genuine, but Tristan isn’t quite sure if that’s because he’s about to take pleasure in punishing someone, or if he’s just being polite to a stranger:

“Yeah, yeah that’s him, seen him? Arsehole turned our shirts pink in the wash, and something tells me it was deliberate.”

Tristan gulps at the accusation and he takes a shaky step back, but before he can even think of defending the stranger that he now thinks must’ve been crying, the last of the three knights, a giant, if Tristan believed in such things, steps forward:

“Don’t worry, we won’t beat him too much.” 

He says it with a grin and a quirk of his eyebrows, but once again the kitchen-hand can’t tell if it was cruel or genuine, if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Uh... yeah, he turned left at the end of this corridor, but I didn’t see where he went after that, I apologise.”

Sir Leon waves away his apology with a smile, looking to the long-haired knight with a raised eyebrow:

“The stables?”

The man grins widely, nodding his agreement as he turns his grin to the giant. Sir Leon offers Tristan another soft smile, murmuring his thanks before moving past him, elbowing the other two to prompt them in to thanking him as well. The three of them march down the corridor with almost vindictive smiles on their faces, and Tristan prepares himself to see a vacancy note, or possibly a funeral invite, posted on the notice board by the next morning.

When he passes a window that evening to see the King’s manservant being carried on the giant’s shoulders as five other knights pelt them with gloves, a grin on every face, he decides that... well... it’s probably best to just not to ask.

~

The next time he sees Merlin, a few days later, The King is also there.

This is the first time Tristan has been in Arthur Pendragon’s presence, and though the other servant’s all rave on about how awkwardly kind he is, he’s a bundle of nerves. Not even Cook’s stories about how often she whacks The King’s knuckles with a wooden spoon when she catches him about to pilfer something stops Tristan’s heart from racing. 

The King was overseeing a few of the servants decorate the main hall for a feast, and whilst Tristan is certain that that’s not something The King normally does, he doesn’t question it, just thinks that maybe the other servants had been telling the truth, and he was a genuinely nice, but normal man. 

Merlin stands at his side, and though Tristan can’t hear their conversation, the two of them are clearly bickering over something. The servant can’t help his curiosity, wanting desperately to move closer to find out what sort of things The King allows his servant to bicker with him about; luckily, the table right next to them has yet to be laid, so he moves towards it quickly. He doesn’t even glance at them, terrified of being caught out, but perhaps Merlin surviving the knights non-wrath the other day is encouraging him, and his steps don’t falter. Their words come in to focus, and he has to stop the confused, and slightly horrified, frown from spreading across his face:

“Arthur, I swear to the Gods, if you make me wear that hat again, I’ll piss in your wine and serve it to you in front of a crowd.”

The King scoffs just as Tristan shakily begins laying down the cutlery:

“That’s treason, Merlin.”

“Do I look like I care? Not only will I piss in your wine, I will not hesitate to push you over a balcony at the first opportunity. This hall is high up and it’s a long way down to the gardens. He drank toxic wine and turned loopy and tipped himself off a balcony and went splat! That’s what people will say. I’m not wearing the Godamn hat.”

Tristan has to focus extra carefully to stop himself from gasping; Merlin just threatened to kill The King... that’s got to be a death sentence. Pissing off some knights that he’s obviously friendly with is one thing, but threatening to kill The-

“Ha ha. Very funny. If you can’t tell, Merlin, I’m being sarcastic, I know you struggle with complex concepts like that.”

Merlin just rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he says with no hesitation:

“My mind is more than capable of coping, My Lord, it’s your belt I worry about being able to cope nowadays.”

Tristan bites his tongue to stop himself from yelping and turns away so neither of them can see his horrified face. The King just makes an outraged noise in the back of his throat, and Tristan can hear Merlin snort in laughter at whatever expression Arthur was wearing to match such a noise:

“Go to the stocks. I want you there for three hours.”

Tristan lets out a confused breath; Merlin threatens to kill The King, and gets playful sarcasm, but he implies The King might be a tad overweight, and gets sent to the stocks for three hours? How is that-

“Yeah... no. Not happening. The feast starts in less than two hours and I still have to help Guinevere organise some stuff in the courtyard, do Gaius’ rounds for him, then put an extra hole in your belt and help you get dressed because, despite being a grown man, you’re still an idiot who’s incapable of putting clothes on in any sort of decent manner.”

Tristan finds himself relaxing a little. This seems to be the norm for them, but surely... surely The King had a line somewhere, and a servant just flat out refusing to be disciplined must be where it lies?

Arthur just scoffs, and Tristan angles his head in such a way that he can see him roll his eyes:

“Fuck off.”

Merlin grins, seeming to cast a suspicious gaze over the room to make sure no one was watching and somehow completely missing Tristan stood just there, before saying quietly:

“You love me really, you prat.”

With that, Merlin reaches up to yank at a lock of The King’s hair before hurrying off in the direction of the courtyard before Arthur can react. The King jumps slightly, clearly caught by surprise as an annoyed flush rises on his face, but Tristan just frowns in confusion when his shock gives way to a softly amused smile.

Huh.

~

The next few times Tristan saw Merlin made him fear for the servant’s safety. He was being taken on hunts by The King and his knights, that’s meant to be for squires, to learn the ropes and gain experience in tracking and riding. 

He supposes it isn’t entirely unheard of for a servant to follow their master on a hunt, but with the way Merlin complains without pause, and The King in turn complains about his complaining, he thinks it would better for everyone if Merlin just... didn’t go. When he brings it up to another servant, a lovely woman named Guinevere who had helped him get unlost at least three times in his first week, she just laughs and smiles at him pityingly:

“I wouldn’t worry, those two have been like that forever, they’re practically inseparable.”

Tristan responds with a rather intelligent sounding:

“...What?”

Gwen laughs softly again, shaking her head and patting his shoulder consolingly:

“You’ll get used to it, they’re just... like that.”

She gives him one more smile before turning to wave the boys out of the gates and walking back to the castle as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Tristan supposes that it probably is.

The next time Tristan sees Merlin leave the city gates with the knights, Sir Elyan, Sir Mordred, and Sir Lancelot this time, it’s distinctly worse. Because he’d caught sight of the patrol rota last time he ran food down to the training ground, and he was certain that those three had a city patrol right about now.

Before he even has time to gape in shock, he hears Merlin’s pleading voice as he trails Sir Elyan like a lost puppy:

“Please, El, I promise to stay out of the way, I will do anything, but I swear to the Gods if I have to spend one more minute around that prat, I’ll hurl myself from the battlements.”

Swearing to the Gods and threating to hurl various people, including himself, from significant heights seems to be some sort of theme for The King’s manservant. Before Tristan can consider the implications of that, Sir Elyan turns to Merlin with a wide, teasing grin on his face:

“You know, I would’ve let you tag along for free, Merlin, but now that you’ve promised me something I feel the need to take advantage.”

Tristan tenses at that, a shot of ice spiking down his spine. He has keen eyes and sharp ears, he knows that Sir Elyan is the lovely Gwen’s brother, Sir Mordred seems to have an... odd worship for the servant, and he’s definitely picked up on the close bond between Merlin and Sir Lancelot, but is this where Camelot’s image comes crashing down in Tristan’s head? He knew that it was better here for servant’s than other Kingdoms, but there are always people who’ll take advantage of their position, no matter where you are. Merlin’s shoulders just drop and he asks in a sulking voice:

“What do you want?”

Tristan grits his teeth, moving his gaze so no one would catch him glaring at the knight as he tries to figure out a way to help, a way to get this virtual stranger out of being... abused, in such a manner. If he’d carried on glaring, he would’ve noticed Elyan’s soft smile and amused raised eyebrow:

“Next time you gather herbs for Gaius, bring back some more of those flowers that you got for Gwen. She said they added vibrancy to the house, whatever that means, but they make her happy, so...-”

Merlin just giggles and nods and Tristan relaxes, looking back to them with a confused smile on his face. That was... actually kind of sweet, he can definitely see the resemblance between the knight and his sister:

“-AND I want whatever Arthur’s having for dinner tonight, his food always looks way nicer than ours.”

Merlin lets out a faux annoyed groan, but then rolls his eyes and grins, nodding:

“Consider it done. Can we go now? I really don’t want to risk him seeing me and giving me some stupid chore to do.”

Elyan laughs and nods, and the four of them begin making their way out of the courtyard and into the city. Sir Lancelot finally joins the conversation, clearly amused as he says:

“You know it’s literally your job to do chores, right?”

Merlin turns to glare at him as Sir Mordred and Sir Elyan laugh, and Tristan only just hears his reply as the castle gates shut behind them:

“Fuck off.”

Tristan decides it would be pointless to bring this up to anyone again, he figures he’ll probably just get the same answer as last time.

~

The next confusing incident happens only a few days later. But Tristan supposes that at this point... it really shouldn’t be confusing. Gwen was right, he did just... get used to it.

He heard the steps pounding down the corridor before he saw him, but they were coming fast and hard, so he presses himself against the wall, holding the tray to his side to protect it as best he could as Merlin comes skidding round the corner. 

He stops just long enough for Tristan to calm himself by spying the wide grin on his face, but he’s quickly sprinting down the hall again, laughing as he waves whatever it is he’s got clutched in his hands. The second set of loud, rapid footsteps stops Tristan from stepping away from the wall quite yet. Just a moment later, Sir Gwaine follows Merlin’s skidded path around the corner, though the heavier man overshoots slightly and he runs into the wall opposite Tristan with a crash and a deep groan.

The rebellious knight gives a wide-eyed Tristan an awkward nod before pushing himself off the wall and following Merlin’s blazing trail, screaming down the corridor:

“I warned you Merlin!! Don’t come between a man and his ale, now give that back you bastard!”

Tristan hears Merlin’s laughter grow louder, even from the two corridors away that the other servant had managed to race to.

He shrugs to himself, waiting for a moment to see if anyone else was going to come barrelling around the corner before sighing, and continuing his journey up to the visiting Lord’s chambers.

It was unusual, he thought, how quickly he’d come to terms with the fact that a servant was sassing The King and pranking the knights and inviting himself on various hunts and patrols that he really had no business on. Unusual indeed.

~

He’d learnt to ignore it. Or at least brush it off.

In the two weeks since Merlin had (presumably) stolen Sir Gwaine’s skin of ale, he’d seen the servant call The King a long list of imaginative insults (what the hell is a dollop head?), walk around with Sir Leon’s cloak on because he was a little chilly, accuse someone of treason (and somehow been right about it), and threaten to kill at least seven people; including, but not limited to: The King himself, The King’s already dead father, some stuck up Noble (though that was under his breath, Tristan just happened to be stood next to him), and Sir Percival.

And Gwen was... absolutely right. He's just... like that. He's Merlin, and that’s what Merlin does.

So when he turns a corner in a rarely used to corridor to see him pressing The King against a wall, snogging the life out of him, Tristan simply turns around and walks back the other way. Both of them look fairly happy with the arrangement, and they’d probably chosen this corridor for the exact same reason Tristan had: it was out of everyone’s way, and was unlikely to be inhabited.

He thinks it’s odd, how... un-odd he finds it. He absent-mindedly thinks that, with the way they acted around each other, he really should’ve seen this coming. A sudden thought occurs to him, and he ducks into a storage cupboard, laying his tray down carefully as he rummages through the boxes. He lets out a quiet “Yay” when he finds what he’s looking for, carefully picking up his tray with only one hand and nudging the door open again with his hip. 

He walks back towards the corner he had just turned (and turned again) making a conscious effort to keep his steps quiet; he places the danger sign, usually used where walls had collapsed or windows had been smashed, in the middle of the corridor, a clear indication of “Do Not Enter”.

He nods smugly at his quick thinking and easy handy work before mentally planning the quickest route to the kitchens and following it hurriedly.

He casually wonders if he has time to circle around to the other end of the corridor so he could put another sign down before Cook gets angry at him for being late. Probably not. At least, not before they... finish up and move on. Hmm. He suddenly panics about the thought of them seeing the sign and knowing that someone had spotted them but... well. Hopefully they would just appreciate it and move on.

Yet again, he decides not to bring this up to anyone. He may or may not have overheard a few of the knights making some sort of bet, and he may or may not want to watch on with amusement as they fail to realise that all of them have already lost.

Tristan smiles to himself; working here had turned out to be rather entertaining, in the end.

~

THE END

I know it’s short, but I really didn’t know what else to add without it sounding like I was just repeating myself over and over😅

I hope y’all enjoyed it!!

[archerincombat]

some things are meant to be secret (and not to be heard)

“Are you serious right now?” Ravi accuses. “I—come on, man. You two are divorced. Or at least exes. Probably divorced though—with Christopher and all. Anyway, you two are getting remarried? Congrats! That’s so awesome.”

Buck blinks. “Are you trying to hypnotize us?”

“Is it working?”

or, ravi fic (coda edition)

11k | read on ao3

Regrettably, Ravi’s first thought isn’t of Buck (bestie?) or Eddie (widowed???) but how he’s even going to begin to explain it to Marcus, who Ravi thinks runs a fan blog for the 118.

He isn’t certain on the latter, even though the other day Marcus asked Ravi for Bobby’s chili recipe and then never actually made the chili, he keeps his phone brightness irresponsibly low and closes his laptop less than inconspicuously whenever someone enters the room, trying to start small talk that Ravi and Avi see right through—since they’ve been friends with him for ages.

Sebastian doesn’t get it, but he’s nice enough to nod his head and allow Avi and Ravi to stash the whiteboard of theories underneath his bed. You know, the one he only sleeps in when Ravi’s on shift? Yeah. Ravi tries not to be the perfect imitation of the :D emoticon whenever he thinks about it. Which has proven to be extremely difficult, since he’s always thinking about it.

“Are you serious right now?” Buck asks, hair distinctly mussed and hand distinctly resting on Eddie’s thigh, and it’s, listen, Ravi’s not going to judge his superiors, especially when they’ve clearly worked so hard (no that isn’t an innuendo. Ravi’s proud of them, okay?) to get to this very moment: making out in the bunk room, but he has to wonder, just a little bit, if Buck and Eddie are extremely good at playing the long con.

“Are you serious right now?” Ravi accuses. “I—come on, man. You two are divorced. Or at least exes. Probably divorced though—with Christopher and all. Anyway, you two are getting remarried? Congrats! That’s so awesome.”

Buck blinks. “Are you trying to hypnotize us?”

“Is it working?”

Eddie nods. “You know what?” he says to Buck. “I kinda see where he’s coming from.”

Ravi turns to him. Eddie’s never…they still don’t really speak much, even after he came up to Ravi in the locker room and asked all those questions that Ravi’s pretty sure was some kind of allegory but he was never too great at English in the first place so maybe that’s putting too much weight on it and it’s really just a metaphor or a simile or something that’s less determining than an allegory. You know 1984 with its allegories. Anyway, Ravi isn’t saying that he’s the reason they got back together, but there are wheels in his head, and boy are they turning.

Then Buck frowns at him. The wheels unturn.

“Just don’t, like, tell anyone about it, okay?” he asks, with an uncertain glance at Eddie. “No offense, but I’d rather that they didn’t hear it through the 118 grapevine.”

“Well have you tried not making out in the bunk room?”

Buck pinches the bridge of his nose. Eddie gives Ravi a small, apologetics smile and then Buck a huge, unabashed grin like, God, I’m so in love with him. And Ravi thinks this is worse, actually, because the cute handholding and shit is working and now he’ll never be able to milk the fact that he was the reason they got together because Eddie will turn those giant cow eyes at Buck and inevitably Ravi will get roped into babysitting on date night and then he’ll have to introduce Christopher to Avi which, what the fuck, or something else just as harrowing because Ravi works at the 118 and life’s a fucking nightmare or whatever John Mulaney said and—

Maybe this is overcorrecting, but Ravi thinks he wants Buck and Eddie to be divorced again, actually. At least when they’re in front of him.

But he puts his hands up in surrender, because really, the only people Ravi’s interested in telling live with him and stay far enough away from the 118 that it shouldn’t be an issue. “I won’t tell anyone,” he promises, trying not to grin. “I swear.”

“You look like you’re lying.”

“I’m not lying!” He protests. “This is just my face, Buck. And anyway, how do I know you’re not lying? How many couples who were divorced get back together anyway? What are the statistics on that?”

Eddie stands up, finally. Ravi gets the impression—or well, not the impression, because once he and Buck spent an entire week arguing about what the best Pokemon DS game is (there’s only one right answer and it’s Pokemon Platinum) which wasn’t so bad until Buck said his favorite starter was Totodile (“It’s an alligator. It’s not misunderstood, Buck.”). Anyway, he gets the feeling—the premonition, even—that if Eddie wasn’t here, they would be pulling up a government website of divorcement statistics before Buck remembers that they’re not actually divorced.

And Ravi knows that too. But to be fair, Buck did chase after him with a chainsaw. This is like…reparations or something. Yeah, he’s pretty sure that’s right. Buck probably has some British blood in him. It’s only fair.

“We should probably go before Cap calls us for dinner,” Eddie says meaningfully. He runs a hand through his hair, but he’s blushing so obviously that it doesn’t look suave at all, which is a great thing for the citizens of Los Angeles’s ego. Not Ravi’s, of course, but other people.

Buck makes the universal sign for, I’m keeping my eyes on you, and jumps up after Eddie, bumping their shoulders together, which is cute but means that his eyes are very clearly not on Ravi and he—

Ravi pulls out his cell phone and dials Marcus’s number. He picks up on the second ring. “You’re not going to fucking believe this.”

continue on ao3

[bamby0304]

Her Saviours- Ch.34

Series Masterlist

Summary: During an odd case, the Winchesters came across Y/N, a scared young Omega girl who had been used as a lure for a nest of vampires. After rescuing her from the monsters, John and his sons took her in knowing she was in no state to live among ordinary people. But three Alphas and one Omega is a mixture bound for disaster.

Warnings: Explicit language. ABO dynamics. Angst. Violence.

Bamby

Coming to, you found yourself tied up to one of the foundation pillars. Sam was to your right, with Dean on his right. Meg was crouching in front of the three of you, watching, waiting with a smirk placed firmly on her face.

Sam grunted and gasped, waking up moments after you.

“Hey, Sam?” Dean started. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but your girlfriend...is a bitch.”

You snarled at Meg which just made her smirk grow.

Sam ignored you all, though, as he focused on Meg, his mind ticking as the pieces fell into place. “This, the whole thing, was a trap. Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearin’ what you had to say. It was all a set-up, wasn’t it? And that the victims were from Lawrence?”

She chuckled. “It doesn’t mean anything. It was just to draw you in, that’s all.”

“You killed those two people for nothin’,” Sam spat.

“Baby, I’ve killed a lot more for a lot less.”

“You trapped us. Good for you. It’s Miller time.” Dean shrugged. “But why don’t you kill us already?”

Meg rolled her eyes. “Not very quick on the uptake, are we? This trap isn’t for you.”

The second the words left her lips you knew the truth.

“John.”

Her head snapped in your direction. “Clever girl.” She smiled.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re dumber than you look,” Dean scoffed. “'Cause even if Dad was in town, which he is not, he wouldn’t walk into something like this. He’s too good.”

“He is pretty good. I’ll give you that.” She stood and walked over to him. You had to struggle against your binds to watch as she straddled him. “But you see, he has one weakness.”

“What’s that?” he asked, voice tense with repulsion.

“You,” she answered simply. “He lets his guard down around his boys, lets his emotions cloud his judgement.” She leaned in closer to him. “I happen to know he is in town. And he’ll come and try to save you. And then the Daevas will kill everybody… nice and slow and messy.”

Dean had all the faith in John, though. Nothing she said would scare him. “Well, I’ve got news for ya. It’s gonna take a lot more than some….shadow to kill him.”

“Oh, the Daevas are in the room here,” she countered. “They’re invisible. Their shadows are just the only part you can see.”

“Why you doin’ this, Meg? What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who?”

Meg turned to Sam to answer his question, her tone going from cocky to defensive quickly. “I’m doing this for the same reasons you do what you do… loyalty. Love.” She paused before her grin returned. “Like the love you had for Mummy… and Jess.”

“Go to hell,” he spat.

“Baby, I’m already there.” Crawling away from Dean, she moved over to Sam before sitting herself in his lap. “Come on, Sam. There’s no need to be nasty.” She leaned in to whisper in his ear, “I think we both know how you really feel about me.” Her body was pressed against his. “You know, I saw you watching me. Changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn’t it?”

The rope that had you tied to the spot was cutting into your wrists as you struggled against them. You wanted to dig your teeth into her throat and rip it out. You wanted to tear her to shreds and wear her blood like war paint. You wanted to kill her with your bare hands and teeth, and not stop until she was turned to nothing.

“I didn’t mind,” she went on. “I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun.”

You felt something primal snap in you as she began to grind against him. But what really got your blood pumping was when she started the nibble on his neck.

“You wanna have fun? Go ahead then. I’m a little tied up right now.” Sam’s voice was tight as he just sat there stiffly.

Slowly, he turned his head to catch your gaze. You held it as you continued to struggle against your binds. The stench of your rage was thick in the room. There was no doubt everyone could smell it.

The sound of something metallic clinking against the ground had everyone freeze.

Meg waited barely a second before she scurried over to Dean and snatched away the knife he’d been using to cut away at his ties. Then she slid back over to Sam, right back onto his lap.

“Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts free?”

Sam shook his head. “No. No.” She pulled back to watch him as he went on, “That’s because I have a knife of my own.”

Breaking free from his bins, Sam grabbed Meg and smashed his head into hers. She fell back with a heavy weight as he grunted and groaned in pain, clutching at his head.

“Sam!” Dean called out. “Get the altar.”

Fighting the pain and dizziness, Sam pulled himself to his feet and fumbled over to the altar as quickly as he could. Grabbing the table, he flipped it, sending the contents of the altar flying and falling.

The sound of screeches filled the room as shadows began to suddenly rush Meg. The three of you watched as she was dragged to the large windows before she was thrown through them.

Sam hurried over to Dean, handing him a spare knife before he moved to cut you free. The second you were able to move you ran over to the edge of the window and looked down. Lying there, on the ground in a mangled heap, was a now very dead Meg.

Dean and Sam came over to stand on either side of you, the youngest breaking the silence, “So, I guess the Daevas didn’t like being bossed-”

Before Sam could finish his sentence you grabbed his shirt and pulled him down to you. Crashing his lips onto yours, you devoured any words he’d been about to speak as you reclaimed him as your own.

When you finally let up and gave him the chance to pull away, Sam looked down at you with wide eyes.

“Mine,” was all you could say.

Dean shifted behind you, which had you spinning on your heels to grab his shirt to hold him in place.

“Mine,” you repeated.

With both brothers in your grasp, the Alphas nodded. “Yours,” they said at the same time.

Their confirmation allowed you to relax. Your grip on their shirts slipped as you felt the tension, stress and anxiety fade away.

“You okay?” Sam asked as he stepped closer to you, resting a hand on your shoulder.

Nodding, you found yourself lost for words.

Seeming to sense that, Dean placed a gentle hand on the small of your back. “Let’s get you back to the motel room.”

All you could do was nod again as you let the brothers lead you away, feeling security and comfort replace the negativity you’d been filled with moments ago.

…

One of Sam’s hands was in yours, while his other held the duffle bag of supplies. Dean was a couple steps ahead, pulling out the key to the hotel room out of his pocket.

You were more than eager for rest after the job’s events. The whole thing had been taxing on so many levels. More than just physical. So the idea of being able to rest up for the rest of the night before moving on sounded amazing.

“Why didn’t you just leave that stuff in the car?” Dean asked Sam as he started unlocking the room’s door.

Sam shrugged. “I said it before, and I’ll say it again. Better safe than sorry.”

As Dean opened the door, the three of you shuffled into the room, only to come to a sudden stop at the sight of a man standing by the window.

“Hey!” Dean yelled in an instant, out of instinct.

Your instincts were different, though. Using your free hand, you held it out in front of the older brother as your other hand held Sam back. “Guys… wait…”

The scent had hit you before you’d fully comprehended the thought of someone breaking into your hotel room. You knew he was there before you could even think of a whisper of there being a threat.

Sam dropped the duffle bag and reached for the light, turning it on to erase the darkness in the room and reveal who was standing in front of you.

John smiled at the three of you, proud and relieved.

“Dad?” Dean was clearly shocked.

John simply nodded. “Hey, boys. Y/N.” 

Reacting with emotion, Dean stepped forward, meeting his father halfway before the two of them embarrassed in a long and tight hug. The emotion filled the room, reaching even you and Sam as the two of you hesitated to move from the room’s door.

As they pulled away, John looked to his other son. “Hi Sam.”

All Sam could do was nod as he responded softly, “Hey, Dad.

John’s eyes turned to you, then. The breath he let out released so much tension and emotion. There was so much longing and need. He needed the reassuring touch of his Omega. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you weren’t his.

Finger’s slipping out of Sam’s grasp, you felt your heart ache a little as you did what you were taught to do and stepped up to the Alpha of your pack.

John pulled you to him as soon as you were within reach. Grasping the back of your head, he buried his face in your neck as he breathed in your scent. At the same time you could sense him scenting you, making sure to leave a reminder of himself as he held you against him.

Pulling back ever so slightly, he searched your eyes without really reading them, before he pulled you in and pressed his lips against yours in a desperate kiss.

It was muscle memory. With the muscle memory came other memories which flooded your mind and heart. Tears pricked at your eyes as you lifted your hand to grasp his jacket and hold him closer. Melting into his touch and the kiss, you revelled in the memories of comfort and security this man had created with you over the years you’d been together.

Cupping your face, he wiped away a stray tear from your cheek as he pulled you away. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too, sir.”

He chuckled lowly at the title. “You being a good girl for my boys?”

“Always.”

Humming his approval, he leaned back in to press his lips against yours in a tender but shorter kiss. Pulling back, he slipped his hand into yours, keeping you by his side as he turned to his sons.

“So… what happened?”

Dean was the one to jump in line and start answering his questions. “It was a trap. I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” John assured him. “I thought it might’ve been.”

“Were you there?”

John nodded, answering Dean’s question. “Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy, right?”

“Yes, sir,” both of his sons answered.

“Good.” John gave a short nod. “Well, it doesn’t surprise me. It’s tried to stop me before.”

It was Sam’s turn to ask questions, “The demon has?”

“It knows I’m close,” John explained. “It knows I’m gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to hell. Actually kill it.”

The look of confusion but intrigued in Dean’s eyes barely covered the hope lingering there. “How?”

John just smiled. “I’m workin’ on that.”

“Let us come with you. We’ll help,” Sam offered.

Shaking his head, John declined the offer, “No, Sam. Not yet. Just try to understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don’t want you caught in a crossfire. I don’t want you hurt.”

“Dad, you don’t have to worry about us.”

“Of course I do. I’m your father. Your Alpha.” He gave your hand a squeeze before he went on, “Listen, Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s good to see you again. It’s been a long time.”

“Too long.”

Hand slipping from yours, John stepped up to his youngest and pulled him into a hug. The two held each other with a different kind of emotion than what he’d shared with Dean moment’s ago.

It happened so fast.

As John and Sam pulled away something came out of nowhere and grabbed them, throwing them across the room. You felt a force grab you, like invisible hands clutching at your arms before you were tossed like a ragdoll against the wall.

Your head collided with the drywall with enough impact that you felt yourself growing dizzy in an instant. You were so caught off guard you could only barely focus on the others as Dean cried out for his family before he too was thrown around.

Claws slashed at your arms, cutting through your jacket as blood began to seep through the wounds. You cried out, screaming as whatever had you did just barely enough damage to make sure you weren’t able to fight back.

“Shut your eyes!” Sam ordered over the chaos. “These things are shadow demons, so let’s light ‘em up!”

Barely having enough time to react, you squeezed your eyes shut just like he’d told you all to do. Behind your eyelids you saw the brightest of lights fill the room as Sam did something to banish the shadow demons. They screeched and screamed as the light erased them from existence momentarily.

Hands were grabbing you again in a matter of seconds, only they were gentler. You could sense they belonged to Sam without needing to open your eyes. Letting him grab you, you let him guide you out of the room as Dean hurried to help John before the four of you rushed out of the hotel as quickly as you could.

Leaning on Sam, your eyes now open, you let him rush you over to Baby. He’d grabbed the duffle bag of supplies before leaving the room at some point. Once he was certain you were steady enough, he let you go and threw the bag into the back of the car before turning his attention back to you.

His hands and eyes searched everywhere, taking in your injuries. “How bad are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, grabbing his hands to stop him.

Letting his hands stop, he watched as yours slipped into his grasp before he gave them a gentle squeeze. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against yours as he let his breathing calm down, along with his rapidly beating heart.

As Dean and John caught up, Sam then pulled away to turn to them. “We don’t have much time. As soon as the flare’s out, they’ll be back.”

Dean shook his head as they came to a stop by the two of you. “Wait, wait, wait! Sam, wait. Dad, you can’t come with us.”

Sam was clearly shocked. “What? What are you talkin’ about?”

“You… you’re beat to hell,” John started to argue.

But Dean was adamant, “We’ll be alright.”

“Dean, we should stick together. We’ll go after those demons-”

He cut Sam off, “Sam! Listen to me! We almost got Dad killed in there. Don’t you understand? They’re not gonna stop. They’re gonna try again. They’re gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad’s vulnerable when he’s with us. He- he’s stronger without us around.”

Leaning against Baby, you watched the three Alphas, sensing them trying to out scent each other to win the argument. As they stood there it was becoming more and more clear that John was beginning to agree with Dean.

Sam shook his head. “Dad, no.” He reached out to rest his hand on his father’s shoulder. “After everything… after all the time we spent lookin’ for you- Please. I gotta be a part of this fight.”

“Sammy, this fight is just starting. And we are all gonna have a part to play,” John explained. “For now, you’ve got to trust me, son. Okay, you’ve gotta let me go.”

There was a brief moment of hesitation before Sam nodded, letting his hand fall from his father’s shoulder in a sign of defeat.

Knowing he could go without either of his sons fighting him on it, John stepped away from them, getting ready to leave. Only before he could walk off to his truck, which was parked at the other end of the ally, he turned to you.

“You should come with me.”

Your mouth gaped open and closed out of shock. “Wha… what?”

“I know you’re hunting with them,” he started. “I know you’re putting yourself in danger, and I know they’re encouraging it. You’ll be safer with me,” he explained as he reached his hand out expectantly, waiting for you to take it and go with him.

The thing is… you would be miserable with him. You knew it, deep down. He would have you locked away in your hotel room, tucked away from anyone who might harm you. Anything that might harm you. But that was harmful in its own way. In a depression, anxiety, bad thoughts and bad mental place kind of way.

But how could you say no to the man who saved your life? Didn’t you owe him everything? Until challenged, he was your Alpha, right? So how were you supposed to deny his request?

No answer came to mind, so you did the one thing your body was screaming at you to do.

Slinking back, you found yourself sliding into Sam’s side as you shook your head. “No.”

John looked at you dumbfounded. He was completely shocked and confused, and you even spotted a hint of betrayal in his eyes. But he didn’t fight you on your decision, and you realised in that moment the two of you were experiencing your first disobedience against him.

Lowering his hand, he turned his back on the three of you and started towards his truck. When he reached it he paused and turned to look at your little group one last time before he got into the truck and drove off.

Sam’s arm wrapped around you as he led you to Baby and guided you into the backseat. Neither of the brothers commented on the decision you’d made as they got into the front. Not even Dean questioned why you’d denied their father as he started the car.

In fact, if you didn’t know any better… you swore you could sense relief in both of them as Dean began to drive off in the opposite direction of their pack Alpha.

Bamby