#turned it on it made a loud noise a big ring of blue flame just blew out from the stove until it hit my pyjamas

[bugunlikeanangel]

a stove literally exploded on me

i was not hurt badly but not gonna lie that put the fear of god into me

[lina-okazaki-art]

Revalink family: Christmas edition

This is suitable for all ages. So, let's go!

<It was a particularly cold night. Despite being a knight trained to survive even the most extreme climates, the cold of Tabantha was always particularly difficult. 

However, there was nothing that orni feathers couldn't keep him warm from, especially when they were attached to a real one. 

“Can you let me go now?” said orni complained, though he made no pretense of moving away either. 

Link in response only buried his face further, taking advantage of the fact that he had removed his armor, giving him easy access to his feathered chest. 

The orni snorted, “For the chosen goddess and wielder of the sword that seals the darkness, you're worse than a newborn chick when it's cold”

Link let out a choked noise against his feathers that he interpreted as a mischievous giggle, so he took his fringe between his beak and pulled it, drawing a whimper from him. 

“You're the worst” scolded. “But it's also my fault for spoiling you.”

Link frowned at him, but his expression relaxed and then he twisted a small smile, causing a warmth to rise in his chest. He would never get used to seeing that cold, serious face turn warm and sweet. 

“Vali”

He should feel pathetic for fluffing up at that nickname, for hearing it come out of those lips almost always pressed together in a thin line, for calling it with that raspy, ungentle tone. But it was Link, his Link, using his voice, the one that almost never let itself be heard other than whimpers during training or in little whispers with the princess.

 Link, who had chosen him. Link, whom he could now call him ‘mine’.

Before he could respond a few hiccups let themselves be heard. And soon they turned into a loud cry, demanding attention. 

It was there that Link finally pulled away and, with impressive speed, went to the crib a few feet away from them, pulling the six-month-old baby out of it.

“Shhh, don't cry, Gale” whispered. And Revali could only fall more in love hearing him talk to his son with such tenderness “Are you hungry already?”

“Of course he is. He's a big eater like you” complained Revali, but he was already stoking the flame of the cauldron and pouring clean water while he took a bottle out of the small cupboard he had made to keep the baby's things “I only hope he doesn't eat rocks when he grows up”

Link looked at him a little scowling at that, but his gaze softened as he watched him prepare the bottle. Revali pretended not to notice, but the raised feathers on the back of his neck said it all. 

Minutes passed between the Hylian trying to soothe the baby and Revali preparing the milk. Sooner rather than later, he handed him the bottle and without waiting, little Gale began to drink it.

Revali stood behind and tucked them both in his wings, resting his beak on the blond hair, admiring his son's eating. 

That moment on the eve of the winter holidays, watching his son being carried by Link, who had removed his gloves to better maneuver, revealing a simple golden wedding ring on his finger, matching the one he wore as a necklace around his neck, Revali thought that this was all he wanted once they defeated Ganon and the calamity. 

And he would fight to protect them>

“This is for me?”

His son's voice snapped him out of his reverie. Looking up from his steaming cup of tea, Revali saw for a second the little baby of his memories, chubby and pink, with just a fuzz of blue hair on his head and his big green eyes sparkling. And as he blinked he was gone but instead there was a young man in his twenties, much more mature in features but still youthful, the fuzz now a long braided blue hair reaching to his hip. However the big green eyes hadn't changed, they were still sparkling, perhaps a little sharp with age, but they still had that spark of sweetness that only someone like Link could have inherited from him. 

“Who else?” he teased. “Of course, if you want to give me the bow, I'll gladly take it”

“In your dreams!” he squealed, hugging the exotic red bow and rubbing his cheek against the wood as if it were some kind of stuffed animal “This beauty will go into my collection”

“Just don't go upholstering the house with bows," Link's voice, more mature and tired, echoed in the home “Or we'll run out of space”

“Says the one who had special racks in his house to put his weapons on the wall?” scoffed Revali. 

He proudly watched the face almost the same as his memories of 100 years ago turn pink with embarrassment, trapped. 

Gale laughed and Revali looked at his husband with his trademark smug smile. In response Link averted his face, frowning, yet he did not pull away from the orni's embrace, which kept a wing around him, providing warmth on that particularly cold night. 

“You had to be father and son” he claimed. 

“Don't compare me to that smug” Gale pointed out. 

Revali gave him a bad look, "What did you say, you little brat?

Link twisted his mouth into a smirk as the two began to argue, taking a sip of his still warm tea. 

And even between the argument, his husband not supporting him and his son being a little insolent, Revali could only think of one thing. 

That despite his defeat, he had gotten his family back. And as spiteful as he was, he should thank the goddess Hylia for that. 

He had a second chance and he wasn't going to waste it.

*-*-*-*-*

Well probably this is a little confusing, but I really wanna post this beautiful commission and my little Revalink history with it!

The boy from the left is Gale, my revalink fanchild. I'm still working in his story btw, this is one of the three finals I have for him, the happier one!

The art was a commission from Bluetokii in Twitter/X! Please check her commission sheet! They're one of my favorite artist ✨

Also this is my little contribution for @revalinkweek so hope you like it!

[curlyangelsblog]

hear me out. dabi x chubby reader with a moth quirk. similiar to keigos but moth. and their an UA teacher and was kidnaped alongside bakugou and tought " ohh pretty ○^○ " as they saw his quirk or something like that

✿ Dabi x chubby!moth Reader ✿

Thank you so much for the request and I hope you like it :)

(A/n : my first language isn’t Englisch so sorry for any mistakes)

TW: fire, reader getting slightly hurt, Dabi threatening reader , reader crying but also a hint of soft Dabi.

You woke up dizzy and sweat dripping down your face. The last thing you remember was the LOV attacking. They took Bakugo and you tried to save him but something distracted you. The wildfire was already so distracting you couldn’t think straight. All those flames and loud noises. After all those years of having a moth quirk you might think you’d have it under control but something about those blue flames just drew you in. You looked at Bakugo he was gagged and hands tied. He looked scared. He was already up and was looking at you and you gave him a reassuring look letting him know you were fine and he was going to be ok. Looking up the league started to walk in. By the names you could remember it was Toga, Shigaraki, spinner, Mr.Compress and Dabi. The rest kept quite in the back. Shigaraki stepped forward and started talking to Bakugo you couldn’t quite understand him . Your ears are really sensitive and all the screaming and explosions left this ringing sound. You saw how Shigaraki went to upon his cuffs. Bakugo got up and looked back at you. Bakugo hit him in the face. Dabi stepped forward which made you spread your wings and break the restrains. You stepped in front of Bakugo after all you are still his teacher so you have to protect him. Dabi smirked at your attempt to look strong and act as if you weren’t hurt. He held his hand out and put on a fire to threaten you to not do anything stupid. But there it was this blue flame. It was beautiful…hypnotic. Dabi saw how you muscles relaxed and how fixated you were on his flame. His face scrunched up in confusion. Why you were so taken back by it. Scanning your wings it was finally making sense you’re moth. He waved the flames in front of your face your eyes eagerly following it. You tried to look away but you couldn’t.

All of a sudden the hero’s came bursting through the wall. In one sudden motion Dabi grabbed you and took you through a portal with the rest of the league.

You were still in Dabis hold when you arrived in what seemed like another hideout. They probably planned this ahead in case something went wrong.

As soon as you realized your situation you snapped out of this trance you were in and jumped out of his arms. You took a few steps back and looked around. There was only one door behind them and a small window at the top. You were not going to fit through that.

„Leave us alone“ Dabi spoke. The leauge left and Dabi made a few steps towards you. You threw your hands up and made a few steps back.

„Don’t worry little hero not gonna hurt ya“

Dabi moved a little closer and said. „So tell me … do you have all the characteristics of a moth. The wings, sensitive ears, getting into heat… and the strong feeling of mating and the fascination for light”. The last two he said with a big smirk on his face. Your face turned red because he wasn’t all that wrong.

„What do you want from me“ you said with a stern voice trying to show dominance. You were still a hero after all. Pretty new tho you just started at UA.

„ oh she can talk now. I just wanna…test something“ He lifted his arm and spread his fingers. You knew he was gonna activate his quirk so you quickly closed your eyes. „Open them“ judging by his voice you could tell he was a lot closer then before. „Or I burn them“ he held the flame to your wings and you stepped back but your back hit the wall and you let out a yelp not only from hitting the wall but also from his fire being so close to your wings. Fire was lethal for you. Especially for your wings they were really sensitive.

„ok ok…j-just not my wings please“ you could feel the hot liquid run down your chubby cheeks. You slowly opened your eyes looking directly in his. They were almost as mesmerizing as the fire. The same color and as bright as it. Dabi was confused by the way you looked at him no sign of fear or anger just pure admiration. He sickly looked away from you and made the fire in his hand bigger. Your head snapped towards it and looked at it the same way you looked at his eyes. You got closer to him, dangerously close. Dabi had to admit you looked kinda..cute? Like this. Eyes growing big, mouth slightly hanging open and if he looked closely you were smiling. No one has ever looked at him this kind of way. He planned on taking you hostage, playing with you and getting information from the hero’s out of you. But now he is confused and might have other ideas for you.

(A/n: pls let me know how you liked it, it was my first time writing something like this and pls leave me request!!!)

[joannasteez]

𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: EZ Reyes x Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Mature Themes.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.7k

Credits to who made the gif @angelreyesgirl

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @my-rosegold-soul @appropriate-writers-name @est1887 @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @brownsugarcoffy @elektriknachosss @queenbeered

Let me know if you’d like a tag!!!

✞

Your annoyance was simmering, daring to merge into the depths of some irreversible state of agitation. The engine of the classic Dodge Charger RT in your possession had, with incredibly poor timing, began to knock. The unsavory noise resonating into the thick air of the street, stilled heat of the day pushing back the regular ebb and flow of the Santo Padre streets to make way for the obnoxious sound of your engine. Your head was spinning, dazed by the bitter humidity and a steady brew of fear trembling in your fingers to dance just under the surface of your skin. The classic car was given by your father, who'd gotten it from his father, the mass of glistening matte black metal of significant value. If the engine failed, you'd be reduced to tears, wading in the dread of some existential crisis.

Your grandfather had had this car for twenty years, the imprint of his essence etched into the leather seats, and when he became grey and withered, he relinquished it to your father for another fifteen years, till finally, it was yours.

You pulled over just as the last knock sounded, the tremble in your fingers worsening. Your eyes welled, sure to leave a soft red glassiness. The need for air consumed you, the space to walk freely about, a puff of smoke or two maybe.

The pavement was hard under your feet, slam of the door accented by vexation. You picked behind your ear, that nicely rolled spliff safely kept and waiting to be lit. The lighter in your front pocket an easy grab, the flicker of orange a short friendly blaze as it singed the paper. The pull you took was slow, measured, as if to savor this minuscule moment of stillness that lived among others not so still. Not so peaceful. With release, you blew into the air, dried eyes taking in the vast blue of the sky. The never ending expansion blurring your vision as your mind sifted through slim courses of action. If you could just get the car to your garage, then you could figure the battery out on your own, saving time you didn’t have on a mechanics trips you couldn’t afford. All you needed was a—

"Need a boost?"

"Yes". The answer was so quick, it nearly gave you whiplash. The tension in your bones dissipating as you got rid of the sizzling flame around your spliff.

The stranger spun his car from its position just beside yours, the hood of it now facing yours head on before he turned it off and got out.

"Thanks so much for this".

"No problem. It's a nice ride you got, don't really see too many classics rolling around Santo Padre much", he said, eyeing the shine of the paint job. His fingers skimming the hood before he lifted it. "Where'd you get it?"

You step closer to him, a grin stretching your lips at his admiration. The RT was your pride and joy, the height of your ego bursting through to rise above some invisible ceiling whenever folks gave it compliments and stares of approval. "My dad had it for a while, gave it to me when he couldn't keep up with it anymore".

With a nod, he retrieved the cables from his trunk, the wide stretch of his back shifting just under the white fabric of his t-shirt to reveal the curve and ripple of muscles. They traveled down his arms, the bulge of them mixing with defined veins that ran across thick powerful looking fingers. He stretched one of those hands out toward you.

"Ezekiel Reyes".

You considered his hand for a moment, slipping it into your own as your eyes racked him with all the subtlety you could muster. It mustn't have been enough because that innocent friendly smile he gave you had turned into something more knowing. He knew you were checking him out but he didn't mind much. "Y/N".

His thumb skimmed the back of your hand just before letting go, turning his attention to attaching the cables to both cars properly. You minded his movements with the cables closely, triple checking the order in which he connected them with a hawks eye, a concentrated intensity that your dear old Charger RT deserved. Abruptly then, like the quickness of a blink or some single strike of lightning, a thought came to you. "Wait, not Reyes as in Carniceria Reyes?"

"Yeah it's my pops shop",

"Felipe's a real sweet guy. It's not everyday you can look through a deep book collection while the butcher cuts up your dinner". You paused, giving the beauty of his face another glance. "He should've warned me though, never told me both his sons were so handsome".

"You met Angel", he stated, a low dip in his tone. Was it disappointment?

"A couple of weeks ago. He was passing through when I stopped by to pick up somethings. He's a real charmer your brother, but I wouldn't worry. I don't think he's messed up your chances just yet", you flirted.

The assurance produced from him a toothy grin. "I'm not worried".

Silence took ahold of you then, anticipation of the moment charging the pressure in your chest to fall straight to your gut. ‘Please work' you whispered while swinging the door wide to slide into the warm leather of the drivers seat. With the key in the ignition, you twisted your wrist forward, a huff of relief puffing from your chest when the engine roars to life. You close the door quick, that relief bubbling under your skin, your head sticking out the window.

"Thanks again Reyes".

He stepped to the window, those warm endearing eyes taking in the summer glow of your face. His tongue slipped just over the plump flesh of his bottom lip. It was a rosy color, the curving dip of it enticing. He liked the way you said his last name.

"It's no problem".

You put your RT in reverse, backing away from his broad body. "See you around?"

"Maybe", he called.

You speed off, the rev of the engine blending into the ebb and flow of the town once again. Existence dipping into the horizon.

✞✞✞✞✞

You'd saw him again at some hole in the wall you frequented at. The smooth slow tempo of some classic 70s song strumming through the stereo to seep into your ears richly like fresh honey. The atmosphere was subdued, the short clinks of beer bottles and incomprehensible murmurs of frivolous conversations sating the air. It was the perfect place to think, to allow your mind to wander directionless through the never ending abyss of happenings and circumstances that had presented themselves down through the week. You made idle chitchat with the bartender about a laundry list of things of no particular significance, small smiles and light chuckles ringing from you both every now and then.

The night was going good, till you felt a creeping touch just at the low end of your back.

"Let me buy you a drink". The voice was rusted, withered by too much tobacco.

You held up the beer in your hand. "I've got already, I'm good".

This guy was tipsy, blood red creeping into his eyes, body swaying just the slightest bit. "Don't be like that, let me buy you another".

"I said I'm good", you asserted. The coolness of the bottle creating a tingling sensation in your hand. You'd crack it over his head if he touched you again.

"Sorry I'm late, everything alright?", another voice asked, but this one you knew. That deeply textured tone wrapping sweetly around your senses. You tore your irritated gaze set on the almost-drunk guy, softening it as you took Ezekiel in. He looked slightly different, refreshed it seemed, or maybe it was just his barbered hair. A Mayans kutte rested over him, comfortable like a second layer of skin, the black leather accentuating the swell of his muscles. You'd have to figure out later why your eyes diverted to them so often, they were becoming a hindrance to your thinking.

"Everything's good now", you played. Giving him a light peck to the cheek to sell the story. His arm wrapped around you in what appeared to be some reflexive reaction, all natural like he'd done it countless times before. When he realized Ezekiel wasn't leaving, the guy swayed away in true tipsy fashion. Mumbling incoherent things with a griped attitude. Ezekiel took his chair, the proximity of it in regards to yours making the point of his knee knock and slide the smooth plain of your jeans. You watched him take a glance over the bar before he called for a beer.

"Thanks for that".

"No problem", the corner of his lip turning up. "Seems like you've been needing my help a lot lately".

"Don't flatter yourself Reyes, this is just a coincidence".

"Any reason why you're at a bar alone?"

Your face screwed up in a show of confusion, but you could guess quickly the reason for the question. "Any reason why you're at a bar alone?"

He sipped at his beer. "Outside gets loud sometimes y'know, hectic. It's quiet in here. Good place to think".

"Exactly".

"A little unsafe for you though no?" And there it was.

"Everywhere's unsafe for me Ezekiel, I'm a woman. I mean I couldn't guarantee safety in my own home if I wanted to, but that's just how the world works". You paused, mischief rising in your face. "Don't worry though, I've got a little surprise for anyone who wants to test their luck".

"Oh really".

"Yeah, you men are dangerous out here. I gotta be prepared always".

His brows furrowed. "That's a bit of a big generalization to make".

"But if it's true it's true. Name one thing a man doesn't get dangerous about. Doesn't even have to be rejection", you say, turning to fully face him.

He considers the question for a moment, staring into the color of your eyes as if he'd find the answer in them. "Love".

"A man who loves, whose in love, would do any and everything, no matter how mad the shit is. He'd risk lives, his life even. If that's not dangerous then I don't know what is".

A speck of something lit in the hazel of his eyes. As if your words had brought to the present some memory buried deep within the grave of his soul. What you said hit rather close, closer than expected. "Who is she?"

"Doesn't matter, it's in the past".

"Humor me".

His jaw ticked before he spoke. "Her names Emily, but that shits all just history now. Doesn't matter". He turned the focus from himself. "What about you. Whose going all reckless about you".

"Who says he exist"

"You just did, I never specified who in particular".

So much for playing dumb. "His name is Jason".

"Sounds like an asshole".

You snort, the teasing of a headache coming as you thought on the insufferable man that was Jason. "He is. He's got that weird alpha male thing about him. Has to be in control of everything, doesn't know when to leave well enough alone".

The muted energy of the bar rose between the two of you, each taking quiet sips of your beer. You took notice of the way he surveyed the room from where he sat. That golden gaze sifting through the space and over bodies with quick ease. He was assessing, the gears in his head turning, calculating and considering every and all the possibilities of danger. It reminded you of someone.

"How long were you in for?", you ask.

"How'd you know?"

"You've been on the defensive since you sat down, lookin’ everywhere like someone's gonna up and shank you for no reason. My cousin was the same way when he got out, always looking over his shoulder". You shrugged. "Grew out of it eventually.

His eyes were a bit sullen, as if the truth would scare you. "Eight years".

"He was in for fifteen, and that prison shit is unbelievable, I mean the stories he's told me are crazy". You laugh suddenly at a memory, the resonance of it making him smile in admiration of the sound. "He did this thing for a while when he got home where he'd only have one knife, one fork and one spoon in his kitchen and I swear it was the funniest shit".

The smile falters, his body shifting awkwardly in the bar stool, embarrassed. 

"Oh my God Reyes don't tell me you've been doing the same thing".

"In my defense I live alone".

"But what if you have a special guest over, you'd be a sorry ass host", you tease.

"If you wanted to have dinner with me then just say that".

You force away the heat daring to rise in your cheeks. "We have to take a trip to home goods before I even consider a dinner with you”.

You both give hearty laughs, till the vibration in your pocket pulls your focus. With a quick slip of your phone, you realize how fast time had gone on. “Shit I gotta go, but it was real nice seeing you again Ezekiel".

"It was good seeing you too".

You press your hand against his patch, laying a sweet lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Make it home in one piece for me yeah".

"I have to. You might need me again".

"I'm counting on it".

✞✞✞✞✞

You were a joke it seemed, the universe and fate in a gaming mood, as they were using you as a source for their own amusement. Commissioning their faithful associate to do the heavy lifting of masking their scents. The two of you were at the right place, at the right time again, what a damn coincidence. Before the present week, you'd never even seen Ezekiel's face, just learning of his existence a week or so before that, and now you'd seen him twice in a matter of days. This night being the third.

He was surrounded by men who donned the same kutte as him, curious eyes swimming through the sea of bodies as they did in every other setting, till they met yours. He came to you without a second thought, eyeing the tight leather of your pants and how they clung to your thighs. The cropped cut of your vintage top revealing skin he longed to touch. Since the first time he saw you his mind raced with thoughts of your voice, visions of your lips touching his skin again, plaguing his body with the desire to have you.

You stepped away from your group of friends, meeting him half way. "You're just stalking me at this point. Not that I mind".

He clutched the openings of his kutte, that signature grin lighting his face, even with the casting over of the nights darkness. "Something told me I'd see you again. How's your RT?"

"Good, resting in my garage. I've been kinda scary about replacing the battery".

"Why?"

"I'm good with cars don't get me wrong, but something about fucking it up just makes me sick. It's a lot of history behind that car. I don't wanna destroy it".

"Understandable", he nodded. Noting the caution behind your words, the way you spoke with such passion and care about the thing you loved. It was endearing.

The heavy crunch of gravel and sand tore through the beginnings of some silent stare, an undeniable enticement brewing. It was Angel.

"I see you met this asshole already", the older Reyes said.

"I'm not an asshole Angel, just 'cause I turned you down".

He sent a smirk your way. "You didn't turn me down, we made a mutual decision that you couldn't handle me remember?"

"Right. That's exactly how it went".

A call sounded through the dewy air of the night, signifying the start of a race. You started toward a cherry red car.

"That's me", you said. In regards to the call.

Ezekiel was confused, intrigued. "You racing?"

"Yeah, the mustang", you called, strutting over to your 1970's Mustang, adding the slightest dip to your hips. Giving the brothers something to admire, before dropping low into the leather seats.

With a quick twist, the mustang roared to life, the rumble tearing through the air, growling like a fierce rolling thunder through hazy storm clouds. Another car pulled up on your right, the blue electric color of it dazzling, clashing against the fine cherry red of your own to deliver a sweet contrast for the eyes that watched on in excitement. A woman, with a dangled bandana in her hand, set herself between your car and the other, whistles of admiration thrown her way as she gave the summer evening crowd an alluring smile. At the point of her finger you revved your engine, adrenaline pumping through your veins, rushing from your chest to pulse under your skin. The leather feel of the steering wheel was smooth, the grip you held to it steady. With the downward pull of her hands she set both cars to race and you pulled your mustang swift into the night.

The road before you was a muddled darkness, the outward spreading glow of your headlights stabbing it and tearing it apart as your wheels took a glide against the smooth road. At the mark line, you shifted your car into reverse, whipping left, back into drive, soaring back down the road to where the crowd watched and waited. Their rigid bodies of anticipation lit by your headlights, bellowing screams waning under the busting sound of your revving engine. Your mustang tore through the finishing mark, the tingle of victory surging through you.

Pulling back up to the crowd, you rolled your window down, a slim roll of hundreds placed in your hand by the guy who’d set the race up. You showed up to win and now you were done.

Ezekiel and Angel were a little ways away from your car, your voice carrying over to them. "A little party at my place. You and your guys are cool to come".

They both nodded, heading to their bikes when Angel answered after you. "We'll follow you".

Ezekiel swung his leg, resting on the seat of his bike as he buckled the helmet over his head, his fingers gripping the ape hangers, feeling the vibration of the engine as he followed the sleek vibrant red of your car. The afternoon he met you, he'd been turmoiled, plagued with the natural uncertainties that came with being a member of the MC. That new patch stitched into the upper corner of his kutte had bought a sense of pride and belonging he hadn't felt in forever, it gave him drive, fueled his determination, but as the saying goes, all that glitters is not good. Expectation deceived him, the reality of all things made clear. And that reality was shoveling makeshift graves for men whose names he couldn't even remember, but he remembered yours. Committed himself to it like the loving kiss he gave to the jar that held the remnants of his mother every time he stepped a foot into his fathers house.

He found you flustered, out of yourself with anxiety in the dimming light of the afternoon, and then at the bar, body rigid, eyes wired and ready to do your worst to a guy who could barely keep his posture straight, and now he was following behind you, backing his bike toward the sidewalk that laid just in front your home.

Upon entry, the knock of the speakers bled a thumping bass that pulsated through the floors. Your home had seemed to expand with every new corner that came into view, the walls pushing back to make room for the swell and scatter of bodies. Sweet smells mixed with more pungent ones, the hazy aroma of weed slipping past him as he walked further into the house. A hand placed itself at his side. It was you.

"Can I get you a drink? A beer or something".

"Yeah a beer is cool".

You intertwined your fingers with his, leading him to the kitchen where the sound settled some. Beer bottles clinked, the air releasing as you opened them, handing one over to him.

He gave a quiet "thanks" before sipping, eyeing the way your lips wrapped around the top of the bottle to taste the liquid. They looked soft, full and alluring. He redirected his gaze before the temptation overtook him to do something impulsive that had the prospect of unnerving you. His eyes flitted to the side of your face, an illustration about two inches or so etched into your skin. He hadn't noticed it till now.

You could feel him staring as you tasted the beer, the heat of it tingling your skin. "It's a dagger".

He reached forward, thumb skimming over the finely crafted design, it was a professionals work. With the simple touch of his thumb, your nerves were riling, heat rushing to pulse under your skin, he could feel it. It drew him closer, lured him in. "Did it hurt?".

"Like hell, but when you've felt more painful shit, tattoos like this don't really compare". You lifted the hem of your top some, bringing his fingers to feel the raised skin there. Four inches or so worth of a healed gash rested under his considerate touch. "Got it when I spent a year and a half inside. Grand theft", you admitted.

The reasoning behind telling him wasn't sound in the slightest bit, but what was reasoning when Ezekiel had awakened such dormant feelings inside you. With those beautiful, sunny colored eyes and the warm hand caressing your side, you were liable to tell everything. Truths you hated and dark secrets that laid deep inside your past. You reached up to lay a kiss to those pouty lips, the feel of them mesmeric, dazing. Fulfillment burdened itself onto you, finally you'd got a taste of that rosy pink bottom lip, and now your body was calling for more. Begging for it with such longing that you licked your way through his mouth, his tongue acting in kind. It was slow and all consuming, his body pressing you into the counter to surround you.

"Come with me", your voice airy. Breathless. You lead him to the back of the house. Your room first on the right. A gasp left you when your feet left the floor, body in his arms as he laid you against the fresh feel of the sheets. You kicked your shoes off with ease but the discarding of other pieces left behind a sinking feeling, a pressure forming in your chest to push down straight into your gut. He was glorious, the plains of his skin bound by rich thick tanned muscles and long veins. The dilation of his pupils darkened the air around him, physique imposing. This is what you’d wanted, Why were you feeling so anxious all of a sudden?

"What's wrong?"

Your body had raced miles ahead of your mind and now you were trying to catch up. "I don't know, I just... I feel..."

"Nervous".

"It's sounds so stupid when you say it out loud".

"But it's not, It's natural, and I'll do whatever you want me to do. Whatever makes you feel comfortable baby".

He sounded so sure of it, it made you believe him. You laid against the pillows, beckoning him with the outstretch of your fingers. "C'mere".

He obeyed, body atop yours, your legs wrapping loosely around his waist as your head tilted up to give those lips another kiss. It was messy this time, fueled by desperation, your tongues slow to lick as they tasted each other's. The remnants of beer still there. He took hold of your lip, sharp teeth pulling before he kissed his way down to the heated flesh of your neck. There he sucked, bombarding your skin with pressure causing your hips to grind against the coarse fabric of his jeans. The thin cotton layer of your underwear leaving you to erupt with a fresh wave of need. He feathered kisses down your body, pushing your legs up and apart to open yourself for him. A shudder drove down your spine, that soft wide tongue of his licking so close to where you needed him. He peeled away your underwear leaving you bare before him.

"Talk to me baby. What do you need".

You could hear the pulse of your heart in your ears. "Take care of me Ezekiel, make me feel good".

He hummed, loving the airiness of your voice. So drenched with need for him you were. He was methodical despite the desire boiling in his blood threatening to burn through his skin, so he'd settled with toying with you for now. Giving that sweet glistening clit teasing licks. They were measured, the constraint of them existing solely to wreck you, to kill your resolve completely till you were reduced to in-apprehensible words filled with air. The wide-ness of his tongue felt so good, your nails running over the faded part of his head as your hips drew tight circles.

The teasing, the game of it all. He didn't know but you loved it so much. "That feels so good baby, so good", you praised.

Your words were disembodied, wandering in another plain of existence as they rolled off your lips. Your senses were bursting at the seems, and then reborn again to erupt on impact when he sucked against your sensitive nub, lapping your slick salaciously. As if he'd been starved for years, only just finding you now. The line of your spine arched, waist swiveling, grinding to meet his wet tongue. A low "fuck" fell in the air as your felt the rise of your impending release. With taut, rough fingers he hooked at the back of your knees, pushing them into the sheets. The action opened you completely to him, no choice but to surrender to his will and the feel of his lips as he drew you closer to the edge.

"Please, I'm so close", you whimpered. Vision splotchy, thump in your ears intensifying.

He sucked at you again, holding his lips still as your body shook. Quivering against the sheets. He reverted back to soft licks, tasting as you rode the high.

He rose when you settled, eyeing the heavy rise and fall of your chest as he did away with his jeans. "You Ok?"

It took you time to register the question but when you did, you threw a pillow at him. "You just sucked the soul out of me, don't ask me that damn question".

He laughed, watching your eyes dim in bliss. You hadn't noticed, but he'd done away with his underwear as well, the weight of him causing the bed to dip as he came up to where you laid. His thick fingers rolled you over, setting your face to rest against the pillows as your hips raised in the air to rest against the hot flesh of his length, the veined skin laying along your slit. You moaned in anticipation, pushing back against him.

He gripped your cheeks, spreading them to see the quivering flesh of your opening, the flushed pink shinning in the dim light of the room. His tongue slipped against his bottom lip again, reveling in the taste of you as he pushed in. He groaned, and you gave a single fleeting "yes" , the thickness of him giving a delicious stretch, rigid length hot as he pushed and pulled in and out of your depths in a slow manner. Wanting to test the waters same as he did moments ago before building you back up again. The squeeze of you made his chest tight, head swimming with delirium.

"You feel so good mama, so tight around me", he groaned.

His thrust were dizzying as they picked up to set a steady pace, your hips rolling and pushing to take him deeper. To reach that place in you that would force your vision to blur and be replaced by disfigured stars. You reach to lay a finger at your overstimulated bundle of nerves, rubbing the soft slick flesh with lazy pleasuring circles that spurred the knot in your gut to grow. A single tear fell to dampen the pillow, your depths tightening at how full you felt, at how unrelenting the stimulation of his strokes were.

The sharp drive of his hips made you go rigid, the vice like grip you formed around him causing him to fall into his own high. Pace going all slow sloppy to ride out the blissful feeling.

He pulled from you, both your body and his collapsing against the bed. His face formed with satisfaction, a beautiful buzz running through him. "You know what this means right?"

"What", you asked.

"We’ll have to see each other around more often now".

[itsmoonphobic]

𝐓𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤. ☾︎

𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝑄𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡!: 𝑀𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑟,𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑢𝑛𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒.

-> For my friends [a group of losers :)] Thank you,it's been a hell of a run,but all good things must come to an end one day. I will come visit soon,until then: I'll be lurking somewhere in the shadows. ☁️

"𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓,𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒈𝒐 𝒐𝒏." ❥︎

moon's time on mcytblr election server: 10/12/2020 - 05/17/2021 ❣︎

He felt cold.It had been so long since he felt this cold.His head was clouded,throbbing with regret and guilt of the things he said.It felt like somebody was constantly ripping his mind apart,putting it back together and taking it apart all over again.His hands shook, pale fingertips tracing his black gloves aimlessly and blue eyes shining brightly under the dark indigo sky. Moon ruffled his wings,cupping his back with the furred leather in an attempt to comfort himself and calm down his beating heart. The hollow bones hummed,crisp wind gliding over their shells and further cold nestling into his veins. No clouds were on the canvas above him,only little shimmering freckles splattered across the deep colored tarp. Moon cocked his head to the side,observant orbs gliding over the stretching landscape ahead of him. The tavern was close now,the phantom hybrid could pick up the faint chatter of people,gentle strumming of guitars,and soft ballads. The lights of houses,vibrant mosaic windows of the church he remembered visiting as a child. Moon breathed deeply,closing his eyes and nuzzling his face further into the black mask covering his nose.

His thoughts continue to buzz. He missed them. He hurt them. The young hybrid would never forgive himself for making his family and friends cry,no matter how many times they reassured him they weren't upset. Was he being selfish? He shook his head, black hair messily falling over his eyes,he brushed the strands away with the back of his hand. Teeth gritting and nose scrunching up in the process,his hair was a disaster - just like the rest of him. The assassin sighed,dropping his shoulders and retracting his wings under his black robe. They felt heavy,he didn't want to fly tonight,flying was considered a award and Moon definitely didn't deserve one after what he did tonight.The black haired hybrid rubbed at his eyes tiredly,everything felt wrong.His ears perked up at the far dong of the city bells,it ringed too loud for his liking. His sensitive senses were overwhelmed by every little noise surrounding him. Bugs and mice crawling over the moist grass under him,bubbling brooks and croaking frogs sitting by the flowing water of the river close by.

Moon clasped his hands over his pointed ears,taking a moment to calm himself and cool down. He couldn't keep this behavior up,it was unnatural for him to act like this - act so vulnerable. He hated this side of him,he wanted to cut it off with one of his blades, throw it away and never have to experience it again. Though,like most things are in life,it wasn't that simple. He would pull his knees to his chest,curl his tail around them,drape his wings over his shoulders and turn into a ball of his own fears and worries. Moon dropped his hands down abruptly,eyes filling up with tears and glazing over his blue eyes. Near. Near would hug him. They would open their arms and wait for Moon to accept their embrace himself,not wanting to push the unstable hybrid further by ambushing him with physical affection. Moon's lips quirked up - the motion so small that not even he himself seemed to catch up to it. He will miss that. He will miss it alot.

Moon cracked his neck,straightened his back and rolled his wrists. He needed to keep moving for tonight,he knew a place he could spend the night and in reality it didn't matter when he would arrive there,but his head is pounding and his thighs are aching. He just wanted to eat,drink some hot beverage and sleep. He slid his tounge over his canines,propping his hands on his knees and jumping off of the branch he was settled on. His black combat boots landed soundlessly on the furry moss,it felt nice. After a moment of processing and calculating the route that would lead him to the tavern the fastest,the hybrid was on his feet and running away into the night - his slender form blending perfectly into the shadows.

•

To say Moon was happy to be in the town center again would be a big fucking lie. It was loud,crowded and the smells were intense. Being a ghost story amongst the lands was making his problems only worse,he couldn't stroll carelessly down the brick concrete path,he needed to hide. His black hood covered his head,a shadow casted over his face and keeping him anonymous to the world. He watched the people casually,pings of jealousy climbing along his brain like wines on trees. Little kids were dragging their friends along,enthusiastic hands grabbing eachother's limbs.Their laughter and giggles filled his ears and his eyes furrowed in annoyance.The image of Violet and Rib popped up in his head. Two overly irritating brats that only seemed to get on Moon's nerves whenever he arrived at the guild. Yet the hybrid smirked fondly,he adored the two like his own siblings and would kill anyone who even dared to look at the them the wrong way. It sparked a flame of protectiveness in him that Moon never knew he could have over a pair of bothersome kids.

Moon's head peeked up behind the alleyway,his eyes cold. He scanned the crowd,spotting the tucked away motel in a corner. It wasn't far now,he just needed to successfully navigate his way though the ocean of people. The assasin pushed his back away from uncomfortable surface behind him and looked at it with disgust,middle finger flying up. Moon's hands pulled his hood down futher,extra precautions to keep himself safe. With one final sigh of uncertainty the hybrid collected all of his confidence that seemed to dissapear under all the stress,and headed towards the oak wooden doors. Focusing perfectly still,trying his hardest not to pry his eyes away from his goal and get distracted by the shiny jewelry and crystals being sold all around him. Kiosks lined the streets,both sides filled with diverted goodies that he just wanted to touch and maybe even slip them into his pockets unknowingly.

He had money,golden coins and silver medals. But the thrill of stealing was just so much more fulfilling. He knew it was morally wrong,blinking away the fact that he was a trained killer,but it didn't bother him in the slightest,Moon stopped thinking about morals a long time ago.He shook his head once again,stomach growling loudly under piles of felt and cloth. He cringed,grabbing his belly irritatingly - a pathetic attempt to stop his hunger.His throat burned,a dry wasteland dancing over his tounge. Thankfully Moon made his way over to his sanctuary for the night without problems. His feet stopped automatically infront of the small timber doors leading into the pub,cracks and ripped bark decorated the pale wood. The phantom hybrid pushed against the doors lightly,opening them in a swift motion.

Immediately the smell of cheese,dried ham,honey and bread filled his nostrils. Rum and beer,wine and herbal teas. Smoked salmon pomegranate and roasted oranges. He picked up many fragrances. And he enjoyed them to the fullest, some were stronger than others but he couldn't deny they were pleasant. Bright eyes inspected the large citadel.Dark spruce tables and chairs,cussions made of cotton,soft wool and silk. His fingers twitched,he knew they were soft,he wanted to lay his head on them and breathe in the smell of lavender and mothballs. An image flashed again. Goose used to give him scented candles to help him fall asleep. They were nice to him,they always helped around the guild. He would give them lettuce and greens in return as a thank you.Moon pushed them aside,he needed to focus on the task at hand,getting his hands on some proper food to satisfy his empty stomach.

He dragged his feet across the dirty floor,boards creaking loudly under his heavy steps.The sound attracting curious faces. Silence overtook the room slowly,the sound awfully loud. Moon didn't react,he knew they were directed at him. He could feel more and more sets of eyes settle on his form,unnerving shivers traveling along his spine. His wings shuffled quickly - defense mechanism. Puzzled murmurs filled the space of the bar,the people clearly confused about the mysterious stranger. Moon was pretty sure he looked like death itself at the moment,dark clothes covering his body,knives rattling threateningly,face completely redacted. He didn't spare any of them a glance,knowing how they would react. Fear and commotion was the last thing he wanted to cause with his presence.

'For the love of god I just want to eat some fuckin' food in peace'

With long but slow strides Moon made his way over to the bar. His thoughts from earlier in the forest slowly creepin back into his brain and biting at his cold pricked skin. Goosebumps tenderly rose over his arms and collarbone,he felt them tingle. It almost made him stop in his tracks but he kept pushing his tired feet towards the chair. He gripped the smooth wooden object rougher than intended and a soft 'sorry' brushed past his lips. The bartender stiffened,eyes widening for a brief second before collecting herself again. Moon eyed her carefully under his hood. Her skin was peachy tanned,blonde curly hair pulled up in a simple bun,eyes the color of his birth stone,Peridot. She didn't seem to catch his piercing eyes,instead shakingly grabbing one of the clean glasses and drying them off. Her back was turned to him,but he easily noticed the way she would throw a sneaky look at him over her shoulder. He took in her white dress,spiraling designs flowing over her waist,colorful flowers sprawled down her chest.

Moon breathed. It was hard,exhausting just to take a small huff of air and release it again. He kept the warm air inside longer than expected and huffed it out tardily. His head was still hurting like a bitch,like somebody breaking his shull open with their bare fists. Another imagine crossed his mind. The cozy atmosphere and smells of the motel made him recall buried memories,times when he felt warm and safe. The hybrid dropped his head tiredly,rubbing his face exhaustingly.He pulled at his mask warily,giving it a second thought before finally deciding on not caring any longer. He needed to relax,needed to feel human. His hood stayed up. Songs started playing again in the background,the aura in the pub returning to the one he felt when he entered through the doors.

It was nice. He would occasionally pick up on a few cautious looks but his body was too tired to react. His elbow rested on the desk infront of him,his other hand flying to his knife holder instinctively. Empty. He fumbled with the holsters hastily,sharp blades touching his exposed fingers,but one spot -his favorite spot- was empty. Where the fu- oh.

<- memory lane ->

"Vibes."

The owner of the name looked at the black haired assassin expectedly. Their big grey eyes lightning up with curiosity,soft dimples sneaking onto their face. Moon smiled fondly at his friend, tenderly taking their hand in his - never breaking eye contact. Vibes watched cautiously as the hybrid reached towards his ribs, guiding his gloved hand towards his knife holders. Vibes gasped, breath cutting short as they observed what Moon was holding out towards them. Soft yet fond whispers were heard behind them,yet both of them chose to ignore them and focus on the special moment being shared between them.

"I need you to take care of something very important for me while I'm gone okay?"

The silver blade reflected gleamingly under the torches and chandelier of the guild citadel. Sharp edges and curved points. Tiny,barely visible if not payed enough attention to,engraved lettering on the shiny metal.

Simon.

Vibes' eyes glanced up at Moon contentedly,their grin further widening as the realization finally fully hit them. The masked assasin flicked their forehead playfully,Vibes letting out a small 'oof' at the impact of Moon's slender finger against their skin.The phantom hybrid smirked teasingly,ruffling their hair warmly.His ego tugging harshly at his heart strings in the process. He pushed the feeling far away,concentrating on making his last visit a memorable one. His lips returned to their usual bored line,sharp canines peaking over ever so slightly.

Vibes stopped messaging their now reddened skin and patiently waited for Moon to continue. Said hybrid once again held out his palm,this time however the blade was weightlessly resting upon it. Unsure hands reached out towards the sharp weapon,grey eyes beaming up at the phantom. Moon understood the wordless question: 'Are you sure about this?'

"Go ahead."

Moon couldn't help it,for the hundredth time that night he smiled. He watched as Vibes dragged their finger pads,nails and palms over the knife. Taking in the weapon from every angle in awe.They stopped their movements,locking eyes with Moon once again:

"I'll take good care of him!"

Moon rested his hand on their shoulder,their marigold hoodie crinkling under its weight. He breathed.

"He's in good hands."

<- end of memory lane ->

Right. He gave Simon to Vibes. Moon once again couldn't help but feel the threat of a smile ghost over his lips - Vibes. They were a good friend,somebody he got along with from the moment he joined their little group. His trust in them grew over the months, everyone probably saw it coming that Simon would end up theirs.

"Moon?"

The hybrid's eyes shot up,a little too fast to be considered normal, at the mention of his name. Hands flying to grip his knives and wings threatening to escape under his robes. The moment he caught the female's eyes he stopped in his tracks.

Des.

He relaxed,falling back into his chair. He calmed down the rushing of blood in his ears,head thundering at the combination. His pale eyes watched as the giddy female propped both of her elbows down on the wooden bar table and she comfortably rested her chin on her crossed hands. Her brown hair was disheveled,soft hazel eyes searching for his blue ones. Her freckles dotted over her milky skin as always,a big contrast to his paper white color.She wore her simple white button up,few of them popped open to expose he collarbone,denim overalls keeping it in place.The last time Moon saw her she wore the exact same outfit and the hybrid really started to think that she either didn't own any other ones or that it was simply put her favorite.

She reminded him of Clove. He missed them the most- the two of them had their fair share of memories and even though they still send eachother letters every day,he misses their personal conversations. He left only a few hours ago but it felt like he was gone for months,years,decades. Clove was nice. Moon's eyes filled with a thin cover of salty tears,blinking them away swiftly before they could spill over. Clove and him used to go on walks together, they would talk about all the stupid and useless shit that came to mind,he liked their company.

They would bail him out of time out and sometimes even drag his ass in there themselves.He breathed.

"My,my - look what the cat dragged in." Des didn't even make any effort to hide her surprised and teasing tone while she threw her question at him.Moon shifted slightly in his seat,wings lowering back to their natural pressed form.He slid his mask off of his face, blinking dull up at her. She noticed his unsure movements. Not wanting to further rile him up,Des dropped the joking manner and instead happily asked him what he wanted to order.

"The usual please."

Des smiled,nodding her head at him sharply before turning away and beginning to prepare him his food and drink. Caramel glazed aprikot cheesecake and Strawberry citrus tea,Moon's favorite.The young hybrid had found his way into her hub for many years now and she knew him like the back of her hand. He used to arrive regularly,once or twice a week. She knew the assassin wasn't really able to settle down without bounty hunters being on his tail and searching the whole town when people would say they spotted the infamous 'Nighchaser' running through the streets. But things changed when Moon only started arriving once per month,his attitude along with his hair being well taken care of. She had asked him where he spent his time and he always replied the same:

"With a group of morons."

Des knew,of course she did. She knew the young hybrid found a place where he actually liked going back to,she figured he had people waiting for him back there,somewhere. Time passed and she watched him grow up,bringing back more and more stories from this mysterious place where he stayed at and introducing her to new people everytime he stopped by on his travels. He grew on her and Des knew that whoever those people were,they made Moon feel happy and that's what mattered the most.

Her hands gripped the porcelain plate gingerly,petite hands cartying the sweet goodness over to the tired assassin. She noticed his dark bags the moment he placed down his mask.They were a stark contrast to the color of his skin,ghostly pale. She didn't comment on it,she simply placed down his meal and watched as he stared at it hungrily. Moon gave a low hum of appreciation and started to dig into his food.

•

"So", Des started,Moon watched as she washed off the last of his dirty dishes and placed them organized on the counter above her, "where are you heading to this time?" Moon glanced at his hands, his thumbs twirling around eachother,fidgeting quickly while he thought about his answer.

"I don't know." He had told her truthfully,shoulders shrugging. Becouse honestly? He really had no clue where to go from here. His decision to move on and explore the world by himself was abrupt and sudden but he knew it was right,he knew his friends and family weren't mad at him but he was still angry at himself for leaving them behind. He loved them but he also knew he had to take care of himself. He wanted to scream,cry and rip his hair out becouse he felt like absolute shit. All of his worries and guilt that were lingering at the back of his head now came rushing in and they uncomfortably sat atop of his shoulders. He just wanted to sleep and let the darkness consume him so he could shut off everything around him.He breathed.

He missed them alot. Fox,even if he wanted to bash their head in most of the time made him smile. Dis,his grandma was a kind soul, she was always nice to him even if she did get on his nerves. He knew many people,he still knows them and he will keep it that way till the day he dies,he will carry their names in his head into his grave. Moon shuddered a breath,slowly getting up from his chair, interrupting Des before she could question him further:

"I'll head off for tonight,thanks for the food." With a small wave of his hand,Moon grabbed his bag and climed up the staircase, red rugs removing any trace he stepped on them , where he knew a soft bed filled with blankets and warm milk with honeycomb waited for him.

"Anytime little one." Des smiled.

•

Dropelts of water fell from his hair,the smell of tulips and eucalyptus danced in the air,flushing delicately against his torso. The room was quiet,windows wide open letting him hear the hushed howls of wolves and crickets chirping,moths gliding with the cool summer wind.Moon tangled his hands into his wet hair, fingers untangling his wild locks.His eyes closed as he slowly massaged his scapl,nails ever so slightly scratching the sensitive skin on his head.He had changed his clothes,neatly piling them up on the rocking chair in the far left corner of the small room. His tail swung carelessly behind him,the bones rattling against the wooden floor. He hid away his wings,laying his bare back against the soft,fresh bed covers. Blankets and pillows drowning him in the best way possible. He sighed contently,looking out towards the clear sky and resting his gaze on the moon.

In that moment the phantom hybrid smiled,a tear slipping quietly down his cheek. His hand came up to brush it away - but they kept coming back no matter how many times he wiped them off. The assasin draped the covers over his chest,muscles relaxing into the soft material almost instantly. His head cooled down and for the first time that night Moon breathed properly.

He breathed,closing his eyes and finally got the rest he wanted.

He loved his friends to the moon and back. ♡

<- Author's note ->

Hi. This is a little something I wrote for my dear friends over on the mcytblr election server. You guys changed my life these past months and I can't thank you enough for that. I needed to take a rest,move on and chase my dreams - no matter how cheesy that sounds we simply ignore it. I love you all so much and I will definitely,not only visit,but return one day to tell you all about how crazy the world gets out there.

Love you idiots :)

[Ps: Story is set in my personal AU of the discord - I didn't manage to personally mention all people individually so bare with me: You all are important to me <3]

[goodgodgodfrey]

Rebirth Part Nine | A Hemlock Grove Story

So, this was two years in the making. I am so so so so sorry I left this account behind without any explanation whatsoever. My life took an almighty bad turn and fell apart right before my eyes. I had an extreme rough patch with my mental health and I am extremely surprised I made it to the end of 2018. 2020 has been an horrendous year but I am back, I remembered my log in and I am ready to continue showing BIll all of the love! I hope the fandom can welcome me back with open arms! Many new fanfics and one shots to come, I promise! <3

Start the Rebirth saga here.

Tw; nakedness, self harm, blood, gore, dead Roman

Word count: 1760

 -

*flashback* 

It was late. Ana wasn’t sure how late, but the sky was dark, and the moon was bright. She awoke with a jolt, one hand gripping her chest, the other wrapped around her throat. Her breathing was staggered as pain ripped through her. Something had happened, something bad and it had rocked the universe. She pulled the blanket off her legs and swung them round, allowing her feet to hit the cold laminate flooring beneath her. The cold sent another jolt through her as her breathing steadied. Ana quickly turned and scrambled to find her cell phone, tapping the keys and pressing dial.

“Come on, come on, come on, pick up …” she said, anxiously, tapping both her feet on the floor. The dialling tone continued to ring out and ring out. With a dissatisfied grunt, Ana cancelled the call and threw her phone on her bed. “Dammit, looks like I’m taking a road trip!” She quickly threw some clothes and some supplies into a duffle bag, swapping her pyjamas for a knee length floaty dress, knee high socks and a pair of boots. She threw a cardigan around her shoulders and grabbed her cell phone and car keys from her bedside table. She threw everything into her trunk before speeding off away from her apartment. She drove for a couple of hours, the pitch-black night sky beginning to turning more royal blue as the moon left and the sun began to rise. As she past the sign welcoming her to Hemlock Grove, she slammed her foot down on her brake.

In front of her car was a wolf; a wolf with bright white fur, it’s teeth bared as it growled into her headlights. Ana’s eyes narrowed, falling on the giant red ball the wolf was holding between it’s teeth. A moment of realisation hit her. It wasn’t a ball, it was a heart. A human heart. The area around it’s mouth was stained pink.

“Oh shit …” she whispered to herself, eyes focused forwards. The wolf growled and began to slowly walk towards the car. “… Peter what have you done?” she whispered again, turning swiftly to get out of the car. From the pocket in her cardigan, she pulled out a handful of herbs. The wolf snarled, lowering its head towards the floor, preparing to pounce. Ana mumbled something under her breath before throwing the herbs towards the wolf. There was another growl, a whimper, a light thud as the heart dropped, followed by a larger thud as the wolf keeled over and hit the road. Ana quickly checked that the wolf had been completely knocked out before stepping forward. She collected the heart in her hand, a disgusted grunt escaping from between her lips. It was still relatively warm; it was fresh. Whoever this heart belonged too had only recently joined the realm of the dead. She got back to her feet, shuffling towards the boot of her car. With her spare hand, she opened the trunk and rummaged through her bag, pulling out a canopic jar. She dropped the heart into the jar before closing it and putting the jar back into the duffle bag.

“Now, what to do with you?” she mumbled under her breath, looking back over at the wolf which was now softly sleeping next to the front of her car. It took all of her strength to pull the wolf along the road and lift him into the back seat of her car. She placed another sprig of herbs by his nose, hoping it would keep him at bay. As she got back into her car, the hand which she had collected the heart, began to heat up, as if the blood it had left behind was boiling. With a swift intake of breath, she knew where to go. Her foot slammed down on the accelerator and she sped through the town of Hemlock. She was greeted with the sight of the Godfrey tower, billowing flames and smoke. Her stomach dropped as the realisation hit her that something big had gone down in this small Pennsylvanian town. As she pulled up to a large, extravagant looking mansion, her chest began to tighten. This was the place.

She slowed the car to a stop and got out, her eyes dodging around the area outside the front. As she wandered around, coming across nothing of suspicion, she turned on her heels and began to walk backwards. There was something not quite right. She could smell blood, a lot of it, but where was it coming from. As she took a step backwards, she tripped and fell, landing with a grunt onto her backside.

“What the …?” she said, lifting her grazed hand from the gravel. Her eyes fell upon a body, but not just any body. The body of the one and only Roman Godfrey, the youngest billionaire of Hemlock Grove. The guy who had taken over Godfrey Industries as a teenager. He was lying, on the gravelled exterior floor, his throat and heart ripped out. “Oh my god,” Ana shrieked, her hand almost subconsciously moving to cover her mouth. “Peter, what did you do?” she asked to herself. She removed her hand from her mouth, leaving behind a bloody handprint. Getting to her feet, she shook off the overwhelming feeling of darkness and death that surrounded her.

She stepped over Roman’s body and walked back to her car, flinging open the back seat. Her hands wrapped around the rear legs of the wolf as she began to pull the limp body of her cousins’ wolf form from the car. It hit the ground with a bump and was quickly followed by the sound of scratching gravel before coming to a halt next to Romans corpse. Ana removed the sprig of herbs from the wolf’s nose before running back to the trunk of her car.

Quickly, a pentagram was created of candles in the gravel. North. South. East. West. Spirit. Ana stripped herself down to her underwear before throwing an assortment of crystals around her neck. She sat down in the middle, crossing her legs and beginning to meditate. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours that Ana was sat inside the candle pentagram, the candles flickering and burning away. As the wolf began to stir, the flames flickered violently. Ana by this point was in such a deep trance, she did not notice, her lips were moving quickly, any words unintelligible. In order to save her cousin from life as a wolf, it would take an incredible amount of energy to channel the dark magic necessary.

The wolf staggered to its feet, shaking its head in order to rid itself of the fuzzy head the herbs had given him. It turned on its heels having caught a familiar scent and was met with five bright, flickering lights. A guttural growl began to grow in its chest, its head lowering as it prepared to pounce. Before the large wolf had a chance to pounce, Ana’s eye snapped open, her entire eyeball a faint grey colour; all colour from her iris and pupil completely gone. The wind grew, the candle flames flickering even more violently.

“Howls are heard from near and far,” Ana began to chant, her voice monotone, almost robotic.

“The moon shines on the pack. Running, howling, barking, fierce as the cold snow’

The wolf began to whine and howl in pain, writhing slowly. Ana slowly unfolded her legs, the trance she was in remaining still. She got to her feet and walked to the edge of the pentagram, where the wolf stood. She placed her hand on the wolfs face, palm flat against it’s nose.

“By the light of the moon and our piercing howls, you will become further from this cunning beast. From the circle of life to the evolution of man, you shall be reawakened as one with the land. Human once more, it shall be done!”

The wolf dropped with a short, high pitched whine. From within the side of her underwear, Ana retrieved a small knife. She lifted up her arm, placing the blade against it.

“Remus. Romulus. Capitoline. Mars. Take his curse and make it yours.” As she chanted, the blade ran down her arm, the blood dripping onto the fur of her cousins wolf form.

“Maketh the man, taketh the wolf, Maketh the man, taketh the wolf. Maketh the man, taketh the wolf.”

There was a crack of thunder and a gust of wind. Each candle flickered before extinguishing leaving nothing but the candle of the spirit. Another crack of thunder and a loud, guttural scream erupted from inside Ana, who fell to her knees. Her hand grabbed her throat as she struggled to breath. During her struggle, she did not notice the change her cousin was going through. His wolf form began to melt around him, disappearing into the gravel, leaving nothing but a blood stained and sticky, naked male form.

The urge to turn was growing inside her body like a burning sensation ripping apart each limb and muscle. The fight caused her to scream out in pain even louder, for longer. She fell onto her back, writhing into the gravel, hoping the physical pain on the outside would numb the burning sensation inside. The writhing became faster and more erratic, slowly turning into tranced fit.

“Ana? ANA!” came a male voice. Peter had come to, back in his human form, sticky and bloody. “Ana, Ana … fuck … come on…” he said as he grabbed the shaking body of his cousin. As the writhing got worse, Peter got to his feet and ran to the back of the car, rummaging through his cousins’ bag for anything that may help. He grabbed some of the herbs she had used to knock him out, running back to his cousins body and shoving it into her mouth. “Come on … chew it goddmit!” he said, panicked by the state his cousin was in. He was used to Destiny’s after spell exhaustion and fits but this was something else. It was like dark magic was ripping everything out of her. Ana made a few choking noises before rolling herself onto her side and throwing up a jet black, sticky goop.

“Ana ..” Peter said, rubbing her back. A few more coughs and splutters and Ana was sat bolt upright.

“It’s gone …” she said simply.

“What’s gone?” he replied, allowing her to place the palm of her hand on his cheek.

“The wolf!”

@fucking-hell-skarsgard

[bellakitse]

Have you considered any Tarlos Au's yet? What if Owen took the job in Texas when TK was 18 so he went to college there and met Carlos and Iris. He and Carlos are BFFs who pine over each other for years, and when TK returns from visiting his mom in NY with a tongue ring, Carlos' life gets a lot harder (pun intended). Best friends to lovers ftw

Flashes of Silver

Carlos is fine with silently pining away for his best friend TK until the boy comes back to campus with a new accessory that makes Carlos’ brain melt with desire. 

nonnie, you should know that this request made me scream with delight, thank you for the idea!!

@shippingsailors

“Are you even listening to me right now, Reyes?”

Carlos Reyes looks up from his phone across the small table wherehe sits with Iris Blake, to find her giving him an unamused look as she muncheson her chips.

“You ask me to have lunch with you here in the courtyard, just soyou can ignore me and stare at you’re phone?” she questions, making him winceat her tone. “I could be in the library; I have papers due.”

“We all have papers due, chica,” he shoots back, even though he’sseconds away from being in the doghouse with his friend, he’s never been ableto keep from poking the bear. His family has always said that for such amellow, quiet kid, he’s always had a reckless streak. “Besides you needed toeat, and not in the library, you know Mrs. Powellhates that.”

Iris rolls her eyes at him, but there is a hint of a smile on herface. “Goodie-goodie, no wonder that old bat loves you so much.”

Carlos gives her an unconcerned shrug. It’s true, the university’slibrarian, a grumpy sixty-eight-year-old woman with grey-blue hair, loves him.“She just wants you to respect her books and the sacred space they are held in,is that so hard?”

Iris gives him another roll of her eyes, scoffing at his words asshe bites into her turkey club. “What’s TK saying?” she asks through a mouthfull, pointing at his phone.

“He’s got a surprise, said he’s joining us in a few – “ Carlostrails off, he looks up to see a smug smirk on her face, and Carlos goes redrealizing that he never actually said that he was texting with their friend TKStrand, Iris just figured it out. “How did you –“

Iris snorts loudly, drawing the attention of a few people aroundthem. “Your face, of course,” she starts, pointing a delicate finger in hisface as she waves it around in a circle. “You had ‘TK’ face; it’s verydistinctive. All soft and lovesick, kind of like when someone shows you a puppy,and all you want to do is snuggle it close and love it forever. TK is the puppyin this analogy.”

Carlos’ face is so hot; he’s sure he’s going to catch flame. “Shutup.”

Iris lets out a laugh at his words; her delight is unmistakable.“Great comeback, Reyes,” she says, still chuckling, though her expressionsoftens when he says nothing. She sighs as her laughter trails off. “Carlos,when exactly are you going to do something about the massive crush you have onour friend?”

Carlos feels his pulse spike at her question, his mouth going dry.“I don’t have a crush on TK.”

Iris raises an eyebrow at him; she looks both unimpressed andsympathetic all at once. “No, you’re right, it’s not a crush. It was a crush senioryear when he moved to Texas and flashed those pretty green eyes at you. Afterthree years of secretly pining, never dating for long, moping when he startsseeing someone and being overjoyed when it only lasts a month, I think we cancall it what it is, so…. When are you going to do something about being in lovewith your best friend?”

Carlos opens and closes his mouth, not sure what he wants to say,when they hear their names being called out. Looking across the yard, they seeTK waving at them with a wide smile on his face as he quickly walks towardsthem.

Carlos looks back at Iris panicked. “Please, don’t say anything,”he begs, feeling his hands sweat.

“I would never,” Iris says quickly, just as TK gets to theirtable. She flashes a smile up at the new arrival. “Hey, TK! How was New Yorkand your mom?”

“Crowded, dirty, and fun,” TK laughs as he leans down to hug her.“Mom was in top mom form,” he continues turning his smile towards Carlos.

Carlos gets up to hug him too, letting out an oomph when TKall but slams into him as he hugs him.

“I missed you too, needy,” he chuckles softly when TK doesn’t letgo of him right away. He catches the raised eyebrow Iris gives him and feelshimself blushing again, but he doesn’t loosen his hold on TK until the boy letshim go first.

“I just really missed that handsome Texan face of yours,” TKteases as he steps out of his hug, taking the empty chair at the table.

Carlos tells himself not to react to the comment. TK doesn’t meananything by it; he’s never meant anything by it. TK likes to flirt andtease; he’s a happy-go-lucky guy who knows he’s beautiful and likes to jokearound with everyone, especially his best friend. It means nothing.

“So,” Carlos clears his throat, hoping the smile on his face isrelaxed, and not an awkward mess the way he always feels when TK is around.“You said in your text you had a surprise?”

TK grins at him, his green eyes sparkling with mischief, and withoutsaying a word, he sticks his tongue out.

“Holy shit!” Iris exclaims in amazement, leaning forward to get abetter look. “That’s hot, TK!”

“Thanks,” TK smirks pleased, before looking over at Carlos. “Whatdo you think? Do you like it?”

Carlos hears the question, but he can’t answer. How can he whenhis brain is currently melting, and will at any second, ooze out of his ears.TK Strand has a tongue ring, a silver little round stud that was made with thesole purpose of ruining Carlos’ life.

“I – I, yeah, looks good,” Carlos croaks out.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Iris biting down on herlip, probably to keep from laughing at how pathetic he is.  Looking over at TK, he feels a pang of guiltas he sees the previously bright smile on his face has dimmed, and he looks atCarlos with an unsure expression. He wants to say something, anything to bringthat smile he loves so much back, but he feels tongue-tied and silly. Hisstupid feelings feel right on the surface, ready for everyone to see, and hejust wants to hide.

“I should go,” he says, standing up, ignoring the sound of protestTK and Iris let out. “Gotta study,” he gets out, gathering his things haphazardly.

“Carlos,” TK says his name quietly, looking up at him with a smallconfused frown, his eyes a little cloudy.

Carlos flashes him what he hopes is a smile and not a grimace. Heplaces his hand on TK’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll see youlater, okay?”

TK looks at him a moment longer before giving him a nod, though hedoesn’t lose his frown. “Okay.”

With one last awkward wave, he turns on his heel and hightails itout of there, away from the boy he’s stupidly in love with, and his damn tonguering.

֎֍֎

He hides out in the library like a coward. He gives Mrs. Powell awave, getting one back, and even gets half of a smile, which is the most anyonecan usually get from the older woman, before heading for the back to his usualtable.

The thing is he knows that hiding won’t help for long, not when itcomes to TK Strand. Where Carlos likes to be cautious, TK is bold. He stillremembers the boy when he first arrived in Austin, their senior year of highschool. It didn’t take long for it to get out around school that TK was gay,and it took even less time for people to try to mess with him for it. The boyhad a slimmer frame back then, dressed in tight skinny jeans, and had softpretty features. The guys they went to school with thought he was an easytarget, and TK quickly proved that line of thinking was incorrect. He wouldfight back like a hellcat, giving zero fucks about bloody knuckles as long ashis bullies were bleeding worse.

People learned not to mess with the boy quickly after that, andCarlos has been smitten ever since. Becoming his friend had given him thecourage to come out himself. After that, though at the time TK was almost ahead shorter than him, the boy had turned into Carlos’ own personal guard dog,glaring at anyone who even dared look at him wrong for being gay.

Between his sisters, the Blake girls and TK, Carlos never had toworry about anyone saying a single bad thing about his sexuality. No, TK neverbacks down from a fight, so really it’s no surprise when half an hour afterhe’s arrived at the library, nose deep into his forensic science textbook. Thechair across from him scrapes loudly against the wooden floor as it’s pulledout, and TK sits.

Carlos looks up at him, rolling his eyes as TK makes as much noiseas he can, taking out one of his books. “This is why Mrs. Powell hates you somuch; you’re so damn loud.”

“She hates me because she loves you, and she thinks I’m going tocorrupt you with my deviant ways,” TK flashes him a broad smile, and with it, Carlosgets a peek at a hint of silver.

Jesus fuck, that tongue ring is going to be the end ofhim.

“What she doesn’t get is that I have been trying to corrupt yousince the second I saw you, to no avail,” TK shakes his head sadly. “No matterhow much I try, no dice.”

Carlos rolls his eyes again at TK’s dramatics. “You act like I’msome saint, and you’re the devil here to lead me astray, calm down thetheatrics, Tyler,” he says, smirking when TK pouts at him at the use of hisname. It amuses Carlos to no end the way TK always reacts to it but yet nevertells Carlos to stop the way he does with others. Carlos tries not to give itmore importance than he does, it’s not a big deal that he’s one of the very fewpeople who knows and is allowed to call TK by his full name. It’s nothing.

They study quietly for a while, or well, TK studies,absently playing with the ring in his mouth while Carlos stares, his hand itchingto reach out for TK every time he sees the flashes of silver.

“Are you going to ask or just keep staring,” TK murmurs, his focusstill on his textbook even as Carlos spots the hint of a grin on his face.

Carlos clears his throat, feeling himself go pink at being caught,he’s had years of practice staring at TK, you would think he’d be better at it.

“Why?”

TK looks up from his book, he closes it and puts it to the sidebefore leaning in, elbows on the table as he smiles at Carlos, obviouslypleased that he caved. “Because I felt like it, and thought it would look good.”

Carlos nods; he can’t argue with the fact that it looks reallygood on TK, but then again, everything does. “Did it hurt?”

TK tilts his head to the side, thinking about it before wrinklinghis face. “Not as much as I thought it would. Afterward, it just felt weirdhaving something in my mouth.”

“Thought you’d be used to that,” Carlos mutters, smirking when TKlets out a dramatic gasp before he laughs, his green eyes dancing with amusement.

“I am curious about that,” TK comments, a mischievous glintentering his eyes. “I haven’t even kissed anyone since I got it, they say you’resupposed to wait three weeks at least.”

Carlos swallows hard as he does the math, TK’s been away for amonth. “When did you get it?”

TK looks at him as he leans back on his chair, a slow lazy smileon his face as he looks at Carlos knowingly. “The first week I got to NYC,” hesays softly, his eyes hooded as he stares at Carlos before he lets the littlesilver stud peek out again.

Carlos takes a sharp breath, his pulse spiking as he stares backat TK and reads the clear invitation on his best friend’s face. He’s not surewhat his face is saying to TK, probably all his love and the naked lust he’sfelt for him since he was seventeen, but whatever it is, it makes TK smile backat him bright and happy, his eyes dancing.

“Finally,” he breathes, never losing his smile. “I wasbeginning to think I was going to have to hire a skywriter.”

“You –,” Carlos licks his suddenly dry lips, feeling his stomachclench when TK’s eyes drop to his mouth, and he licks his own as he watchesCarlos.

“Since I met you,” TK admits softly, his face going gentle as helooks into Carlos’ eyes. “For such a smart guy, you’re so slow, baby.”

Carlos looks at him with wide eyes; he obviously has to bedreaming. His best friend in the whole world, the guy he’s been crazy about foryears now, can’t be telling him that he feels the same. There is no way he’s thatlucky.

TK’s expression softens even further, reminding him that TK canread him pretty easily. “I have to find a book,” TK starts, pointing towardsthe back of the library where no one ever really goes. Carlos watches him as hecomes around the table, holding his breath when TK runs his hand over the backof his neck, his fingers sending shivers down Carlos’ spine. “Maybe you canhelp me,” he says softly as he walks away, never once looking back to see ifCarlos is coming.

Taking a calming breath, it takes Carlos less than thirty secondsto make up his mind and stand from the table, following TK to the back. He’sfinally been given a chance to have the one thing he’s wanted forever. There’sno way he’s letting it slip through his fingers now.

He finds TK at the very end of the library, sitting on anotherreading table; this one a little dusty from lack of use. TK is biting on hisbottom lip in that nervous way of his, and when he looks at Carlos, gone is thecocky guy from a few minutes ago, and in his place is the not so confident boythat lies beneath his usual bravado. It’s the TK that always sparks Carlos’more protective instincts. He walks up slowly to him, stepping in between hisparted knees.  

With TK sitting, it puts them at a height difference that leavesTK looking up at him. Carlos brings his hands up to cradle TK’s face, tiltingit up even further, making sure TK is looking straight into his eyes.

“Are you sure you want this?” he can’t help but ask. The last thinghe wants is to lose his friend for a momentary case of hormones.

“Do you want this?” TK asks back; instead of answering, itcomes out more teasing, but Carlos can still see the hint of nerves.

“I have always wanted you,�� Carlos confesses, finally letting itout. His heart beats hard against his chest as he gives life to his secret, butthe way TK’s eyes widen makes it worth it. “Every second of every day, I wantto be with you. I want to kiss you, hold you, have sex with you.”

“Carlos,” TK lets out breathlessly, his hands coming up to gripCarlos’ arms.

“But I want more than that too,” he continues, now that it’s outhe can’t hold back. “I have feelings for you. I’m in love with you, TK.”

TK tightens his hold on him, pulling him closer. “You never saidanything.”

“I was afraid to lose you,” Carlos whispers, now feeling unsure. “Irather have your friendship than not have you at all.”

TK closes his eyes, smiling as he shakes his head. “Idiot.”

“Hey,” Carlos starts to grin, moving forward when TK bringshis hands to the back of his neck and pulls him closer. Letting go of TK’s face,he places his hands on his waist, pressing his forehead against TK’s as the boylets out a soft laugh, and Carlos feels the same kind of giddy joy.

“I’ve had feelings for you since I met you,” TK says quietly, hisbreath touching Carlos’ face. He aches to close the distance between theirlips. “Back when I was so pissed that my dad dragged us here from New York, andI hated everything about Austin. You were the only thing I liked about it, andthen as we became friends, you became the person that made it feel like home.”

“Can I kiss you?” Carlos pleads, not being able to take it asecond longer, not when the boy he loves is telling him he feels the same way.

Carlos feels TK’s smile against his mouth instead of seeing it; hesighs into the kiss three years in the making. He pulls TK by the waist andgroans into the kiss when TK answers by wrapping his legs around Carlos’ waist,bringing their bodies flush against the other, and Carlos can feel how much TKwants him, his own body reacting to it the same way.

“Ty,” Carlos gasps out before TK slips his tongue inside his mouth.He moans helplessly not just at the taste of TK’s mouth, but also at the feelof that smooth silver stud pressing against his tongue as TK takes his time, makingsure he pulls Carlos apart with each flick of his skilled tongue.

“Carlos,” TK whispers back when he pulls away to take abreath. Carlos can’t stop touching or kissing him, and he trails a path withhis mouth from TK’s lips down his jaw, to his neck, kissing and sucking on anystrip of skin he can, instantly addicted to the taste of TK Strand.

“I knew it would be like this between us,” TK moans, his headthrown back as Carlos sucks at the pulse point under his jaw. His hand’s gripat his shirt and Carlos pulls back long enough to pull it over his head.

TK looks at him, his usually bright green eyes darkening as hetakes in Carlos’ bare chest, the piercing on his tongue peeking out as he curlshis tongue and makes an appreciative sound. “Fuck, baby, you’re a workof art.”

Carlos feels himself go hot at the compliment, and the heated wayTK looks at him, he feels it from the top of his head and down his chest.

TK makes another noise, smiling up at him wickedly as he sees hisskin turn pink. “Oh, that’s pretty,” he says softly, his hand reaching out totouch Carlos, his thumb rubbing gently over one of Carlos’ nipples. He shiversat the touch, not being able to stop the whine that escapes his lips. TK’s eyesflicker back up to his, and his smile softens. He uses his legs, still aroundCarlos’ waist to pull him back in.

Hands cup his face, and Carlos closes his eyes as TK brushes hislips across his. “We’re going to be amazing, aren’t we?” he asks against hismouth, and Carlos nods, swallowing hard as he pictures what being with TK isgoing to be like.

Yes, they’re going to be incredible, starting right now.

Carlos goes to kiss him again, more than ready to get theincredible parts started when someone clears their throat behind them, causinghim to freeze.

TK looks over his shoulder at their unexpected guest before helooks back at Carlos; his eyes are wide, but there is a twinkle of amusement inthem when he mouths ‘oops’ at him, like the little shit he is.

“Hi, Mrs. Powell,” he says brightly. Carlos closes his eyes withdread, something tells him after today he isn’t going to be the librarian’sfavorite anymore. “Carlos was helping me find a book.”

Carlos looks at TK incredulously, finding a bright smile on hislips as he looks back at him with zero shame, and shakes his head, but in theend, he can’t feel anything but happiness. This is the crazy boy he chose tolove.

֎֍֍

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Iris calls out as she walksup to them on the quad. Carlos looks up from where he’s been spending timekissing TK’s neck.

“Hey,” TK greets her back as he presses himself to his side, flashingCarlos a bright smile when he throws an arm over his shoulder and pulls himcloser. “Thanks, I honestly can’t believe we’re finally together and that ittook me sticking a metal rod through my tongue to get this going.”

“Hey, that’s not true,” Carlos protests as TK rolls his eyes.

“Don’t even try to deny it,” TK points at him. “I have beenthrowing hints forever and nothing. It took me getting a piercing, and honestly,me being tired of waiting for this to happen.”

“I didn’t know you were throwing hints!”

TK rolls his eyes again before leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.“I know,” he says gently. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty because you’re clueless.”

Carlos goes to protest again, but TK stops him by giving himanother kiss, this time on the lips. Carlos sighs into it, ready to get lost init when Iris clears her throat loudly.

“Yeah, still here,” she says sarcastically, giving him an eye rollof her own. “I knew you’d be annoyingly cute once you finally got your shittogether.”

Carlos blushes at the comment, while TK laughs delightfully.

Iris smirks back at them. “By the way, that’s not what I wascongratulating you two on.”

“Oh?” TK raises an eyebrow at her, and Carlos feels dread again asher smirk seems to grow.

She pulls a flyer out of her bag, passing it over to them, andCarlos feels his face turn bright red as he takes in both his and TK’s faces onthe sheet of paper, with the words ‘banned from the library until further notice’under their faces.

“Apparently even though she hates everyone, it takes a lot to getMrs. Powell to ban someone; you two are now legends,” Iris tells them with agrin, wagging her eyebrows at him.

“Oh my god,” Carlos groans, dropping his head into his hands. Heturns his head to the side when he hears a snicker and finds TK smiling wildly.

“You find this funny, Tyler?” he questions dryly, and though TKmakes his usual face at his name, it doesn’t diminish the smile on his face, orthe affection shining in his eyes.

“Hilarious,” TK grins.

Carlos shakes his head, unable to stop his own smile. “Why do I likeyou?”

“Love,” TK corrects, biting down on his own smile. “Yousaid you love me, you can’t take it back now.”

Carlos smiles gently at him, bringing his hand back up to cup hischeek. “I’m never going to take it back.”

TK starts leaning in to kiss him, when Iris groans, forcing themto stop.

“Once again,” she shakes her head at them. “I’m still here.”

Carlos flashes her an apologetic look, knowing it doesn’t come offas sincere when he can’t stop smiling; he’s just so happy.

“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes as she stands back up. “I’mleaving to let you two be gooey and in love, try not to get banned from all ofcampus for indecent exposure.”

They watch her leave before TK draws his attention by tugging onhis hand.

“She’s got a point you know,” TK starts, giving him a dirty smirk.“If I don’t get you alone soon, I’m going to jump you right here.”

Carlos smiles back, his stomach clenching with anticipation. “Luckyfor us, I have an apartment, and I live alone.”

TK curls his tongue, and that little silver stud meant to driveCarlos crazy peeks out. “Then what are we waiting for?”

[triforceangel13]

An Accidental Mating Ch. 14 (A Sidlink Omegverse Story)

Chapter 14 :Escape

Link let out a disgusted grunt as he pushed the last piece of a banana past his lips, threatening getting sick as he forced himself to swallow it. He couldn't afford to get sick now. This was his only source of food from these terrible people.

Over ripe bananas. He knew he needed more nutrition for the baby but they didn't care. It would be a miracle if Link was able to get out of this alive with his child at this rate before he ended up getting horribly sick from malnutrition.

He had no idea how long he had been with them. It felt like weeks at this rate but he honestly had no idea at all. Though with each passing day Link w  losing more and more hope that someone would come and save him.

They would be looking, he had no doubts about that. There was no way that Zelda and Sidon wenre't out there combing through all of Hyrule in search of him.

But he knew the Yiga. He knew they were cunning and how they hid amongst everyone in plain sight. They wouldn't just let themselves get caught and expose where they were, escecially since they had the champion of hyrule in their grasp.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he tossed the peel out of the cage, panting softly as he fought his aching stomach.

“I know baby,” he mumbled to his child, a little foot pressing agianst his hand from inside. “We'll be out of here soon I promise. Then we get to eat all the salmon you want.  Just you...me...and your father.”

Another little foot hitting his hand made him laugh softly, caressing the small bump. He wanted to make sure he gave the promise to his baby. Anything was better than rotting away in this cell in this place.

“Talking to the child again I see?” came that familiar voice again. Link sighed, glaring over his shoulder as Ezra stepped towards his cell with a plate of hot steaming food in his hands. Just one smell had the baby wiggling in his stomach again, wanting whatever it was he had in his hands. He tried to hide his urge to ask for it but it was clear on his face.

As well as the loud growling of his stomach.

“I'm allowed to talk to my child,” Link snapped at him, turning his back towards him again. “They're the only one pleasant in this place.”

“Well I don't know about that,” Ezra said, stepping into the cell and set the plate of food down next to him, but took several steps back. He had learned from the last time he had been alone with Link in his cell. “This child is the cause for this mess you're in.”

Link furrowed his brows at the sight of the food and looked up at the Yiga who pulled back his mask and crossed his arms.

“Alright let it go to waste. Thought you'd want something else other than mostly rotten bananas,” Ezra growled. “The big boss man thinks those things are the only thing that can keep the two of you alive. If he wants to use you both there's no way that's gonne happen like that. Now eat up before you get sick or something.”

Link sighed and he grabbed the plate, starting to dig into the food with his dirty hands. He closed his eyes slowly, holding in any noise of joy that would come from him. It was some sort of savory chicken dish with rice and it was one of the most amazing things to eat since he had been eating bananas for several days.

Thouhg there was something off about it.

“Why are you giving me this?” he asked with a frown after a few mouthfuls, skeptical of why out of nowhere he had gotten a meal out of this.

Ezra sighed, moving towards the door, shutting it behind him. “Let's just say that I've grown attatched to that little fish you've got in there alright. I don't want to see it die.”

Link frowned pushing more food into his mouth.“Just because you gave me this doesn't mean I trust you.”

As he said it his vision was starting to swim. Ezra turned back to him with a smirk, resting his arms on the cell bars.

“Good. Because I'm still a Yiga.”

As those words left Ezra's lips Link crumpled to the floor, his vision going black.

*

“I hate how it took us this long to find this place,” Sidon said angrily, keeping to the shadows as he followed Zelda, Riju, Buliara, as well as several Gerudo guards up the steep hill towards the Yiga Clan hideout. “Are we even sure if we found it?”

“I'm sure Sidon. The Gerudo people know what they're doing. They didn't have the evidence that Link did. But now they know. They know theses desserts well,” Zelda explained to him, wanting the prince to keep a level head during this. “Also that symbol they have will be in small subtle places. Look, there's one now!”

The princess went right to a half buried statue of a frog, an upside down sheikah eye painted in faint red glaring back at her.

“It must mean we're getting close,” Riju said, hope in her eyes as she looked about her. “Let's keep looking for more symbols.”

The group started looking, finding hidden symbols in obscure places but none of them were able to find the entrance.

That is until Sidon spotted the last one hidden high above any of them able to see up close unless they were in fact as tall as Sidon or one of the very tall Gerudo women they were with. But they all had been looking below.

“There,” Sidon said, making quick strides towards the opening of the cave. That was when he caught it. The faint smell of his mate. This was where he was.

“Sidon, wait,” Zelda called after him, looking amongst the room with large banners surrounding the circular room. “We don't know where to go next. It looks like a dead end. We must be smart as well. These people are masters of disguise and disappearing. No doubt they wouldn't leave their entrance just glaring out in the open.”

“I can just follow his scent,” Sidon retorted with a scowl. “Do no stop me. We are so close to finding him I do not want to lose him again.”

Zelda sighed, pinching bridge of her nose. “I know that Sidon but we cannot be hasty here. We don't know if they caught on that we found them.” “They are known for their tricks,” Riju said as she stepped inside, picking up one of the traveling torches and lit it with the torch that sat in the middle of the room. “But my mother had told me stories of how they liked to hide.”

She approached one of the banners and held the flame up to it. “See how there's a bit of an air current coming from this one?”

The group remained silent as she lit the banner, it going up quickly and burning away to reveal a hole in the wall, no doubt the passage they had been looking for.

With a smile Riju turned back to Sidon. “Let's go get him shall we? But as the princess said, we must make haste but we also must be diligent. If we want to get him out in one piece we must work together in a smart way.”

Sidon let out a heavy sigh but nodded his head. He knew she was right. If he rushed forward he could risk losing Link again.

“Let's go then. Together,” Sidon said.

*

Link slowly blinked open his eyes, looking around the room he was in. The stone ceiling as well as the wooden rafters of the Yiga hide out stared back at him making him shut his eyes again, wishing to just pass out again.

He had been dreaming as he had been knocked out. Dreaming of holding his baby close in his arms, wrapped in a damp blanket her big blue eyes looking up at him as she cooed. And with his arms around them both was Sidon, holding them close as they sat by the fire to keep warm. It was dream that he wanted to come true.

But the rope around his wrists and the pain in his head reminded him that it was very much a dream and that being in the Yiga hide out as their prisoner was his reality.

“He's awake,” one said to the large man next to him. “We should get on with the procedure before he gains his barings.”

“I suppose you're right,” the large man next to him said. Link opened his eyes again, glaring up at him. From what he could tell this man was the new leader after Kohga. “Though quite frankly I really don't care if he feels it or not.”

Link tugged on the ropes but froze once more when he felt the coolness of the blade touch his stomach. Gritting his teeth he glared daggers at the men and women surrounding him. The cold stare of their masks of the upside down sheikah eye glared back at him.

“What do you want now?” Link asked with a growl. “The baby isn't ready to be born yet.” Though that was a lie. Link had lost track of time and he had no idea when he would go into labor. How long had it been since he had even gotten pregnant?

“That is precisely why you are here,” the large man sneered, dragging the flat part of the blade against his stomach. “We are tired of waiting and we believe we can gain the child now. We have no use of you any longer.”

Link's eyes widened and he started to struggle again. He was going to die. His baby was going to die. There was no way they could survive without water if they were a zora child. He had to stop them! He had to save his baby!

“No!” Link yelled loudly, his voice ringing through the cave walls, his body struggling hard and he started to kick his legs to get some leverage to get out of this. His heart beat loudly in his chest and he felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.

“Hold him down!” the leader barked at them, several other members coming to grab at his legs. That was when they heard the loud noise coming from the entrance to the hide out. The leader let out a heavy sigh.

“Go see what that is,” he said annoyed, passing the blade to another member. “Cut the kid out Ezra. Prove to us you're one of us.”

All of them but Ezra shuffled out of the room to see what was the cause of the noise. Ezra stepped forward, tilting Link's chin up with the tip of the blade.

Gritting his teeth Link stared up at the mask on his face. He had to do something. The life of his child was at stake here and Ezra words rang through his head from when he had given him the sleep inducing food.

“Let's just say that I've grown attatched to that little fish you've got in there alright. I don't want to see it die,” is what he had said to him.

“You and I both know they won't survive if you cut them out,” Link pleaded “Please....please let me go.”

The mask stared blankly at him and then a heavy sigh passed his lips, the knife quickly moving to the rope that bound his hands.

“We only have a few moments before someone comes back,” Ezra stated, pushing the mask up from his face, conflict clear on his face. Link nearly crumpled to the ground but Ezra was quick to grab him, holding him up against him. He smoothed the hair out of his face despite Link tried to push away from his touch.

“Maybe in a different life it would've worked out between us,” he said, pulling away and held Link by the wrist, quickly making his way to the back entrance of the hideout. Link shook his head but followed. He had no choice but to trust him.

Then the piercing warning whistle came. Ezra's eyes widened and he shoved Link towards the stone door between them and the exit.

“Go!” he said, pulling the sickle on his back and urged Link through the door. Link clenched his teeth and did something he never expected.

“Come on! They'll kill you!” Link yelled to him. Ezra paused but started to follow through the door only for a blade to be run through his gut.

He let out a cough as blood dripped down his chin. Link's eyes widened in horror as Ezra silently told him to go again with the wave of his hand only for the door to be sealed between the rest of the clan and Link.

He was free.

Scrambling to his feet Link ran as hard as he could, doing his best to keep to the shadows of the desert sand.

He was home free! Until a pang in his stomach sent him to his knees and a dampness collected in his pants. His water had broken. The baby was coming!

I’m open for written commissions

want to support? my patreon and kofi (both triforceangel)

my a03 (triforceangel) as another place to read my fics

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 23: Smoke - Sinners Are We Chap. 5: Blow It All To Hell

So everything went wrong and everyone makes their moves

It happened early one morning, with a thick coating of smoky haze from one of the lava pits coating the city. The Poisoned Thorn Prince was spotted on the outskirts of the city and had promptly blown up a few factories seemingly for nothing more than his own twisted amusement. But if people didn’t know better that would have said he seemed to be looking for something past the smoke and haze.

There had been plenty of rumours over the sudden vanishing of the younger prince and princess from the public eye. So maybe that played into this, regardless some thought that maybe the elder prince was distracted. A target. And some members of the local resistance were a little... eager.

Orrin sighs yet smirks into his cup at the ever-familiar sound of an explosion and the smell of burning wood. Side-eyeing Dove as she hums contentedly, obviously considering it something familiar from home too. He sighs more genuinely at the loud aggressive knocking at his door.

Opening the door and leaning against the frame, “yes?”, and eyeing the dishevelled looking Rio. She looked fairly ticked off which tells him that someone went and did something they shouldn’t have and probably blew something up. How nice to know his family isn’t the only one with aggressive explosive idiots.

“That fu-darn moron”. He can’t help chuckling slightly over her ‘correcting’ herself at spotting Dove. Ahh the living were so sensitive about ‘protecting innocence’. Not that that wasn’t part of what he was attempting to do with her himself. “Jasper went and unloaded the entire artillery on that stupid poison prince”, shouldering her way in which he lets her do purely to see what might happen, “that idiot doesn’t get that it doesn’t matter what happens with that monster if we can’t take out the king”.

Orrin rolls his eyes slightly, it absolutely did matter. This little rebellion was as good as dead if his brother went down. “‘Idiot’ might be being nice I dare say”. She nods at him absently and keeps on ranting, which he doesn’t pay much mind to. Arguably this could both be in and against his interests. Dove had made quite a few friends, she seemed quite fond of them. Now the question was, would she defend them? Clearly she hardly cared for self-defence, but defence of another? If he put her in that kind of situation, what would she do? He is rather curious, but he would have rather gotten her more attached first but oh well. Brother always had to be some form of an inconvenience, didn’t he.

All three turn to the side as the window gets blown in, neither Orrin nor Dove moving or seeming all that surprised; having become rather used to sudden and largely needless destruction. Rio, however, immediately moves into a battle-ready stance and scowls deeply. Then relaxing slightly after a beat, it’s subtle but it’s there. The slight shift in stance from defending from an incoming attack to simply on high alert, “what did those boys do?! Drive that thing closer into town?!?”. She grabs Orrin with little care for his personal space and drags him off, also with little care for his personal opinions on being manhandled and shoved around like some mutt. He almost has half the mind to bash her head into the wall just a little bit. Dove hardly seems to mind it though.

“Personally, I would prefer you unhand me. I’m perfectly capable of walking away from explosions myself. In fact, I would say I am fairly adept at it”.

“Suck it up. You established you’re hard as nails a long time ago. Save all that cool calm composure for when freaking Russet isn’t here”, her scowling more, “darn demon prince”.

-

Dove tilts her head, bigger bro was here? If he found them did that mean the game was over? There was lots of bang boom and loudness. Frowning a little, but she wanted to keep playing. She liked the mortals here. She really did. None of them liked littler bro, which makes her sad. Her bro should be liked. He was very likeable. He was okay though. ‘Don’t mind’ like he always said. Maybe bigger people only liked bigger people and littler people liked littler people. And littler brother was still a big kid, a big person. Like bigger bro, not bigger like pa. No. No one was big like pa. Pa was the biggest of the bigs.

Big lady Rio makes them stop by holding out her arm in front of them as they get out of the home building. Dove hums at the destruction around, yup! Bigger bro surrounded by smoke and ash. She don’t know why Rio makes a mad face, did she not like Rusty? He did make people disappear a lot. That wasn’t very nice. She didn’t like that. He was bigger bro but littler bro was more likeable. Older not better.

Rio lady says some words Remi and Olive say are bad mean words that you shouldn’t say. Family says them a lot, so can’t be that bad right? Maybe living just no like them.

Suddenly bigger bro and someone else fly by having a boom match. The not bro man doesn’t look like he’s having fun though. Neither does the on-the-ground-man bro hits when he makes a red mess and doesn’t get up.

-

Orrin makes a point to ‘shield’ Dove, not that he truly needs to but he had an act to play. Plus, he couldn’t have her running off to that moron of a man. He is slightly thrown off by her grasping his arm tightly though. Maybe she did need to be shielded, was she truly this fragile?

Rio eyes her then whispers at him while dragging them off, “she’s never seen someone die before, has she?”. Orrin simply shakes his head, “she knows sometimes people disappear, but that is all. She has seen people get hurt, however”, Rio sends a sad sigh Dove’s way. He will never understand the living.

But... he absolutely enjoys the tenacity. Oh yes he does. Watching multiple ghost hunters and rebels blasting the high Hell out of brother dearest. Even spotting one of the secret turrets pop out. This really was a plan that would work but surely they are well aware that father will show up at this point. So what will they do? Will they launch every possible plan immediately? Take the opportunity? Or admit that they simply can not win? Quirking an eyebrow when one of the turret shots is an arrow and string, huh, so they were attempting to trap instead of only assault. Arguably smart. Father would obliterate that in less than even a fully livings heartbeat.

“I’m to guess there’s some form of a plan to deal with the big dog?”.

Rio rolls her eyes but grins almost impressively meanly, “obviously. I would have thought by now you would know we’re no joke. Besides, we got some of those freaking spooks off distracting that monster, hopefully both of them. So maybe this brat will be alone for long enough”.

Orrin blinks, well, he did not quite expect that. Particularly not on rather short knowledge. But, spotting a little black and white dot, he can’t help the sly cruel grin. Shit was about to hit the fan, so to speak, “so where are we off to?”.

She looks back at him, glancing to Dove, “getting her to the safe house, then the barax”. Ah, see that doesn’t really work well for him. In fact, it doesn’t work at all. Now that just simply won’t do.

So he grins a little more, Dove huffing at him like she does when she thinks he’s planning unpleasant things for someone. Which was fair. After all, he usually was. He certainly was now. “Ah, well then, ‘fraid that’s not something that’s gonna happen hon”, he jerks them to a stop, her whirling around on him, suspicious and confused, “I have a far better idea”, tightening his grip and yanking her towards him, “how about you-”, then spinning around and shoving her into the road, “-go play in traffic for a little while”. Orrin turns to Dove quickly, “wanna play pass?”, she gives him an unsure hum but seems interested enough. So Orrin grabs her up and turns back to the surprised and starting to look pissed off Rio, “and take the little lady with you!”, promptly throwing her at the mortal woman.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!!!”.

Orrin simply points up with a grin.

-

The city goes into absolute panic emergency mode as Phantom slams down into the ground, blue flames erupting from around him and a loud snarl ringing out over the buildings. When the dust and smoke settles enough the powerful monster of a ghost looked both pissed and incredibly giddy, which was nothing short of terrifying for the town’s folk.

The entire area transforms into a battleground in an instant, the members of the resistance and ghost hunters all effectively identifying themselves to each other. This was a situation where they either died or won, staying in the shadows wasn’t an option with Phantom here. Here in a town that had genuinely attacked one of the princes. They were as good as dead already.

But amongst all that chaos one rebel was running practically threw the centre of the battlegrounds with a wide-eyed child, wondering what the goddamn fuck the girls ‘caretaker’ was thinking; or if he even was. Regardless, not even seconds pass before Phantom is floating in the air shooting massive blasts into the city.

Nearly everyone stops as there’s a shout of, “OH RUSTY!”, in a singsong mocking voice. Giving one hunter the chance to run a distracted Russet through with a crystallised blood blossom extract spear, just as one of Phantom’s blasts destroys the turrets.

-

Dove is looking around everywhere, there are parts of mortals flying around, red everywhere, they’re making loud noises, pa is there laughing and making things go boom, bigger bro’s on the ground, lady Rio is running and whipping her face around like crazy while saying lots of mean words she thinks are about bro, when both of them and almost everyone look to her littler bro. Ori was standing on a sidewalk, against a wall, grinning wild. People always disappeared, died, when he looked like that. So she makes a sad huff when he yells bigger bro’s name but like he’s singing a lullaby.

Then Rusty’s making hurty loud noises and suddenly her and lady Rio are looking at him and there’s green and red everywhere and he doesn’t look like he likes it and pa looks mad. She tries to leans towards him so he won’t hurt no more but lady Rio turns away and holds her real tight.

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU CALL HIM!?!?!?”.

Ori laughs, “I’m more like my grand uncle than father would like!”. Dove just sees him hold out his arms in a shrug from the corner of her eyes. “In that, I prefer to play the long game. Or entertain myself with chess and all the little pieces of it I can find, as that dead old coot would say!”. Dove can hear the grin in littler brother's voice but that doesn’t matter right now, Rusty needs help! He’s hurting!

Chunks of the road and buildings are getting blown to bits as pa stops anyone from getting near bro, protects bro. She has to get to him. Has to help him. Bro isn’t strong. She knows this. She’ll help him just like pa. She’ll be a good little girl. She knows littler bro told her not to but she hopes he won’t be mad or sad as she phases through lady Rio’s arms.

To focused on flying at her Rusty to stop at lady Rio getting blasted at the ground towards Ori. Or Olive laying missing her little legs. Or the mortals laying around without their beating sounds, in circles of red. Or noticing how the battleground paused for a split second over the floating child going at the Poisoned Thorn Prince.

-

Orrin chuckles faintly down at Rio as she struggles to stand up, a scowl on her face, “you”, coughing, “you bastard”. He just grins, flashes his glowing blue eyes, and winks cheekily. She immediately body slams him into the wall, “ah ah. I would do that if I were you”.

She practically growls at him, “and why the Hell not”.

Orrin chuckles, “don’t you have a little girl to protect? And you just let her slip through your grasp. Now what kind of mother does that I wonder”, he continues as she just snarls at him and presses him into the wall more, “besides, I can see two ways this can go. I’m equally interested in either or, frankly. Because tell me, what made those two wonderful little monsters that are mother and father dearest, the monsters they are today? Why all they had to do was watch the people they cared about die and betray them”, he grins very meanly at her paling. So he leans his head towards her face, “or perhaps, she could defend those bonds. With the living she’s met. After all, that idiot of a brother has shot her point-blank and left not even a singe to be seen”.

That gets her to step back, understanding flashing across her face. Good. Looks likes this was a good time to places the cookie crumbs. Not that he was anything close to subtle there. But then again, wars and battlegrounds hardly called for subtleties. “You- you planned this”.

Orrin shrugs, “oh hardly. Russet showed of his own accord. Simply doing what is in his nature to do. And frankly, you lot really do seriously underestimate how protective father is”, chuckling, “to think he would be distracted and not come immediately”.

She scowls at him but moves to pin him again, but against the ground, as the wall near them explodes. Her looking around wildly, both of them watching one of the hunters intercept Dove and try moving her away from the area. Dove squirming and trying to phase away, though unable due to the hunters' suit. Rio muttering, “if that’s- then why isn’t she attacking Jestine?”, sounding genuinely befuddled.

Orrin rolls his eyes, “she’s a pacifist”.

Rio snaps her head to him, “what?”. Which he simply rolls his eyes at again and gives her a look that says that should have been obvious. Dove didn’t have a violent bone in her body, that was more apparent every day. He decides to be truly and genuinely honest, curious what she’ll make of it, “our family would destroy her”.

Rio blinks at him, “you didn’t plan this”, standing up, “you were running away”. He doesn’t bother arguing that beyond huffing slightly indignantly, as she points at a couple of guys, “hold him, with ecto-weapons”, and runs off after Dove. Orrin simply chuckles at the two men that scowl at him.

He’ll stay put for now. He’s got a show to watch.

-

“HOLD ON! I KNOW HER!”.

“JACKET NOW! KID’S TRYING TO PHASE LIKE CRAZY! WHAT IS SHE THINKING!”.

“YOU DON’T EVEN WANT TO KNOW”.

Dove whips her head around at arms she knows wrapping around her, seeing lady Rio holding her again. But she still couldn’t get past the purple jacket! And bro was still hurting! And they were trying to make him hurt! Didn’t they know when playtime was over?!? She knows her eyes are wet as she points at bro, maybe lady Rio will understand her. But her saying, “Dove honey”, makes her stop. Lady Rio never said her name? Why?

Lady Rio swallows, the two of them huddling on the ground as chaos and loudness is everywhere around them, “or Robin if you like that. Russet, or... Rusty, has done a lot of bad and, and sometimes people who do bad things have to be punished or they’ll hurt people. Make more people disappear”. Dove doesn’t get to think on that as the ground next to them gets smashed apart and they go flying. Lady Rio rolling across the ground and not moving.

Dove doesn’t know where to look. Lady Rio is hurt, Rusty is hurt, pa got hit by something and looks not happy, Olive, and Remi, and Jasper, and Maseti, and Shilenta, and so many people. There’s too much. Too many. Where does she look? Where does she go? Mortals so easily to hurt but bro...

Was he bad? Did he ‘deserve this’? But, watching them hit him with another glowy pole thing, he couldn’t take much more. They were going to make him go away! That- no.

“YOU CAN EITHER FIGHT BACK OR WATCH ALL THE FRIENDS YOU'VE MADE HERE DIE!”. Dove snaps her head to littler bro, tears on her cheeks. “WHAT'LL IT BE! DOVE!”. Everyone snaps their heads to her then, even Rusty and pa. She almost doesn’t catch, “and what will you do to or for her, mortals? To the little Golden Princess? The youngest of the monsters you so hate?”.

Hate? Ma... and pa... and bro’s. Are they not liked? Hated? But why- snapping her head around as another purple suit grabs her arm and pulls to the side, the ground exploding again. So many were hurt. Were hurting. Because... because family was here.

“EVERYONE’S GOING TO DIE BECAUSE YOU DID NOTHING! THEY'LL ALL BE GONE!”.

No.

She doesn’t want this.

Dove tilts her head back and screams.

[keroujack]

Hi, can you do #46? Your writing is amazing, I’m a little jealous 😭❤️

bruh dfjkasla;d you’re unbelievably sweet thank you so much ❤️ i really hope you like it!!

46. “What happens if I do this?” 

Steve was 15 and the neighbors were moving out.

He’d watched them pack from his spot on the roof. The little spot right outside his bedroom window. Allowed him to see down into the living room of the next house over. It was already piled high with boxes when his mom let the statement slip at dinner one night.

“The Upton’s are moving to the Hamptons,” she’d said.

Steve couldn’t remember a single time either of his parents had ever spoken to Mr. or Mrs. Upton other than the occasional hello while crossing paths to get the mail. Couldn’t quite understand why the news was important enough for her to waste her breath over.

His father didn’t. He just hummed.

Two weeks later, the house was empty.

Steve was 16 and they still didn’t have a neighbor off to the right hand side.

He’d watched his fair share of Open Houses from his spot on the roof. Thought about taking a look himself on more than one occasion. Considered what it would be like to jump over onto the little patch of roof that matched his own, how easy it would be to open the window and climb inside. The thought was tempting, but the small gap between houses made his palms sweat. Was enough to keep him on his side of the line.

So he just watched. Watched couple after couple after couple, one upturned nose after the next, walk through and leave. Never saw the same face twice.

Maybe that was the beer’s fault, the weed’s, made his memory all hazy and weird. Mostly, out there on the roof, staring at the stars, he thought maybe it was the house’s fault.

Big empty houses could be intimidating. He should know. He lived in one.

Steve was 17 and there was a moving truck outside.

A moving truck, a beat-up Cadillac, and a shiny blue Camaro.

He watched them unpack from his spot on the roof. Sipped a beer, slow, careful, kept his eyes on the living room below.

From what he could see, they were a small family, normal enough. A quiet father with stern eyes. A young mother with bright orange hair. A small daughter with a head of her own to match.

If he hadn’t been watching closely, he might have thought that was it. Father, mother, daughter. Small family of three. Quaint and picturesque to fit the small-town Indiana mold.

Except, that wasn’t it.

There was a fourth person walking around the house. Somewhere. What had to be a son. Broad shoulders, blond hair. Hands curled around cardboard boxes so tight they creased beneath his fingers, lined with rings.

The other three, the picture-perfect three, spent their time in the living room, hanging curtains, arranging vases on shelves, but the son, he only came into the room to pick up another box, to drag it somewhere else. Spent his time somewhere else. Out of the frame.

Time passed. Steve had another beer. Watched the lights go out one by one by one until the house was as dark as it had been these last two years. Dark and desolate.

Steve was 17 and they finally had neighbors again.

“The Hargrove-Mayfield’s,” he learned, as per his mother’s explanation a few nights later. “From California.”

“That’s cool,” Steve said. Hardly even a hum of a noise as he pushed at the broccoli on his plate. Had to punch at the silence somehow when his father didn’t.

The explanation ended there, dinner went back to cold silence.

Later that night, he climbed out onto the roof, the late-June air outside his bedroom window warm, perfect. His parents would be gone again in the morning and he’d bought a brand new bottle of whiskey off Tommy, could hardly even wait to drink it beneath a blanket of stars. There was no breeze to rattle the trees, the slow burn of alcohol cut at the back of his throat, and if he squinted hard enough, he could see the Big Dipper.

Life was lighter. Summer was here.

The world outside was dark, calm, but the light from the living room next door drew his attention like a moth to a flame. The dull hum of noise. The cadence an argument, volume that matched.

There wasn’t much he could see. Mostly just hands. Young hands. Lined with rings and waving like mad. On the opposite side of the room, the hands were stronger, rougher. A father’s hands. Balled into fists. Unmoving.

Until suddenly they were. Moving. Grabbing a vase off the shelf to throw against the wall. Cracked it, shattered it clean. Sent shards and flowers to the floor with a violent crash.

The crash gave way to silence, silence to flat air. To empty space. Disappeared and faded into the light. Into the house.

For two years, the house next door had been empty. Dead. Lifeless. Now it was full of fire, with hands that dripped kerosene and a dark rosewater stain that licked at the wall like flames.

When Steve closed his eyes, he could hear sirens.

When he opened them again, he could hear the telltale flick of the locks on the window across from his. Watched a hand lined with rings pull it up, open.

Steve watched him, lazy, hazy from whiskey as he-the son-climbed out the window, shut it behind him. Faced the yard with a heavy breath that Steve might have seen if the air’d had any kind of chill to it.

It wasn’t like it was weird. He knew the kid had seen him, they’d caught each other’s eyes as he sat down on the little patch of roof that mirrored Steve’s, pulled a cigarette out of his pocket before he completed the full motion.

The kid had even spoken to him after he’d placed the cigarette between his lips. After he’d felt at his pockets with ring lined hands and grabbed at his thighs with well-practiced intent. Voice low in pitch, in volume.

“Got a light?” he asked.

“No,” Steve said, shook his head, doubted the kid could see it against the night sky, the black tiles that pillowed his head.

The kid’s laugh was sharp, humorless. A little mean.

“Jesus.” He took the cigarette out from between his lips and stuck it behind his ear. “’Course you don’t,” he mumbled, rubbed a hand that glinted gold against the moonlight over his face. “Fuckin’ hick town. Of course you don’t.”

Steve sat up, slow when he felt his cheeks heat, felt something irritated, annoyed flood up his chest. He took another long sip of the whiskey, winced around it, made sure to feel it burn all the way down before he screwed the cap back on.

“Here.”

Thoughtless. He threw the bottle over the gap before the kid had his head fully turned in his direction, caught it with an ease, an effortlessness Steve could admire. 

For all this kid knew, Steve was a stranger, an idiot that laid on the roof of his house in the middle of the night, but he didn’t hesitate to unscrew the cap. To wrap his lips around the bottle and tip his head back, to close his eyes and take a smooth drink.

Silent. Steve just watched.

The kid threw it back over after another even swig, but he kept his mouth shut. Made it clear he didn’t have anything more to say.

That might have been the first time, but it was far from the last.

Steve was 17 and the new neighbors had a habit of getting loud.

The situations were always similar. Steve would watch from the roof, hear the phantom hum of an argument, prepare for the locks to undo, for the window to open once the argument gave way to silence. To him.

“Billy,” he’d said after the fourth time, after Steve had thrown him the beer he’d convinced himself was just an extra when he’d grabbed it on the way out.

“Steve,” he replied, didn’t flinch when the can cracked a few feet away. Billy’s eyes were on him-blue, he had blue eyes, Steve realized-as he took a sip.

And so it went.

Steve was 17, Billy would be 17 next month, and apparently, he wasn’t the only one that preferred stars to the interior of a big house.

“Know anything about stars?” Billy asked him one clear night in July, when the moon was bright and Steve’s watch told him it was nearing 3 AM.

“No,” he said, honest. “Do you?”

“Not a clue.”

Steve laughed. It was easy to laugh with Billy. He’d cried out on the roof more times than he’d ever admit out loud, but he never laughed.

Billy was funny when he wasn’t an asshole, when he wasn’t filled to the brim with angry red, when his temper had calmed and argument-born adrenaline had all but disappeared.

“My dad’s a dickhead,” was the only explanation he’d ever offered. Let it slip after five weeks and half a bottle of cheap vodka that they’d been tossing back and forth. Was quick enough to cover it with a quip that Steve didn’t have to answer, didn’t have to know how.

He could just laugh. So he did.

Steve was 17 and he wasn’t sure he’d ever laughed so much in his life.

He didn’t laugh that night in August, though. The one that changed things.

He’d been in his room, had the window open to allow the air to circulate. The shouts that came when the sun went down didn’t surprise him, nor did the strong, angry sets of hands he saw arguing when he climbed out and sat on the roof. To wait. 

It was the absence of a bare hand, raised, the flash of an elbow, pulled back, a fist that hooked right to left that made his breath catch.

The hands lined with rings, covered in blood when they came back into the frame.

Steve felt his heart hit the ground.

Billy’s lip was split when he climbed through the window not five minutes later, blood a fat line down his chin.

He didn’t sit once the window was closed behind him. Not even a hey.

Didn’t need one when he was already at the edge of the roof.

“What happens if I do this?” he asked, gestured across the gap between houses, to the space where Steve was sitting. “If I jump over. Is your roof gonna cave in under my ass or what?”

“No,” Steve said, confused, hated how much red there was covering Billy’s face, his hands.

“Okay.” Billy nodded, eyed Steve, the space around him. Took a hard breath in and then out. “Back up.”

Steve didn’t need to be told twice. 

Billy jumped the gap without another word, without hesitation. Landed on his feet with a dull thud, a hint of a wince that pulled at the corners of his lips.

The weight of his body knocked into Steve’s when he sat down next to him, heavy, careless.

The blood down his chin was so much worse up close. Deep, dark, dripped a thick shade of red down his tanned skin. Steve had to ball his hand in the hem of his shirt to keep from reaching out to wipe at it.

“Billy?”

His eyes were closed. His chest was almost heaving, up and down and up and down harsh, rapid.

“Yeah?” He sounded breathless. Different.

Steve didn’t bother asking him if he was okay. Decided to take a leap instead.

“Do you wanna come inside?” he asked, watched when the question made Billy open his eyes, revealed a cool shade of blue that seemed to steam against the red, the blood on his face. “You’re bleeding like crazy, man. I mean, I could-I have stuff for that. That could help you clean up.”

Billy swallowed hard, considering. Was slow to shake his head. “Don’t wanna bug you.”

“You’re not bugging me,” he insisted, knocked his shoulder into Billy’s when he didn’t move. “I mean it. Come on.”

Steve stood up, held his hand out. An offer. Billy eyed it. Eyed him.

Took it without a word, let Steve pull him up. Let Steve help him in through the window and lock it behind them.

Steve was 17 and he’d do anything to protect him-Billy- from the house next door. The monster that lived in the house next door.

Anything.  

[tomahawk-swing]

🤗 for whichever one of them you'd like... or both

The Angst Meme

🤗: Could you give us an angsty excerpt about your muse?

Dingo couldn’t breathe. His hands tried to pry the Darkloid’s fingers away from his throat, nails digging into materialized data, to no avail. Burnerman’s grip was strong as a vice.

Let me go. Let me go !!! Dingo wanted to scream, but no air could make it through his throat - let alone a noise. He looked in Sam’s direction, but he couldn’t find her. His vision was a blur, tears stinging at his eyes from the smoke that rose all around them. Let me g-

His wish was granted, though not in the way he hoped. The world turned black for a second, as Dingo was hurled into the distance, his flight abruptly stopping against a tree.

What air remained inside his lungs was knocked out at once. Dingo coughed and choked, while he forced his eyes to open. By the time his eyelids responded, a dark silhouette was already looming over him.

“It’s game over for you, you shitty brat.” Burnerman pointed his cannon at Dingo’s face. A faint blue glow lit up inside the barrel. “Got some last words ?"

Dingo couldn’t take his eyes off of the flamethrower. Off of his imminent, gruesome death.

“How ... how did you find me here ...?” He wheezed. Dingo didn’t care if he died. What truly made his heart ache, was knowing that he was only the first name on the Darkloid’s list. 

Next would be Sam, defenseless, human Sam, up against a bloodthirsty monster. Tomahawkman would get a few more moments to see the forest burn, before his PET was engulfed in the flames as well. If the entire space inside the dome went up in flames, there would be no stopping the flames from spreading to the village. 

Dingo’s wasn’t just losing this battle. He was failing to protect what mattered the most to him.

Again.

“You’d really like to know, wouldn’t you ?” Burnerman laughed. “Let’s say I have a pretty knowledgeable benefactor. Someone who’d very much like to break your neck with their own hands, but let’s say they’ve got better things to do. Like, I dunno, gather an army, and start an uprising. Does that ring a bell ?”

Dingo’s heart skipped a beat. How could he forget the last time he’d heard this kind of delusional speech ? How many months, how many years had it been ?

He had grown complacent. Worst, he had left a job unfinished. Yes, he had saved his friend from the enemy’s clutches. He had recovered, his wounds had healed. he had put the horror behind him. yet he’d left out the most important part.

He hadn’t caught the bad guy.

“Andou ...!” Dingo had no time to ponder on his realisation. A bright light burst from Burnerman’s cannon, and Dingo only had time to throw himself to the side, so his head wouldn’t be blasted right off his shoulders.

Run ! Run !!! Dingo wanted to yell, but all his energy went into his legs. The air scraped at the raw skin on the back of his hands. Every step sent a thousand needles of pain coursing through his back, a hundred hammers pounding at his skull, but what other choice did he have ?

Maybe he could run and run, until Burnerman ran out of energy. Surely, he would find some brilliant idea, anything, a way to beat that enemy. He had to find a way.

A wall of flames rose to his right, and Dingo leapt to the side. He knew this forest by heart. Every tree, every protruding root, every rock. This was his field. His home. He couldn’t lose here !

The wind suddely picked up, and Dingo cast a glance above his shoulder. Burnerman wasn’t chasing him. 

He was right above his head.

Dingo skidded to a stop, and flung himself backwards. A stream of blue flames came rushing from the skies, with such blunt force that it dug a hole into the ground. The impact sent a shockwave around, followed by a wave of blue fire.

Dingo was thrown off his balance. His body rolled a few times, before it finally came to a full stop. The grass was warm, in an oddly comforting way. Maybe, if he just closed his eyes for a second, he would wake up in his bed, cuddled in a warm blanket. Sam would be here, stroking his hair. Healthy. Alive.

The acrid smell of smoke filled his nostrils again. The sound of loud steps reached his ears, covering the low crackle of burning wood. The smell of smoke, that he so despised, was keeping him alive.

In a desperate attempt, Dingo reached for his tomahawk. His hand closed around the handle, he brought the weapon by his side. Still lying on the ground, his eyes hardly open, he raised his arm, blade turned towards the enemy.

Burnerman stared down at Dingo for a second, before he burst out laughing.

“Really ? That’s your big plan ? It’s so pathetic, I’m almost tempted to see where you’re going with it !” The Darkloid cackled. “You know what ? I got my orders, but it doesn’t mean I can’t have a little bit of fun. Imma toy with you some more ! Maybe let your useless Navi see the moment you kick the bucket, or something ! Yeah, let’s do that !”

Burnerman sent a strong kick at Dingo’s ribs, forcing the boy to drop his weapon. He grabbed Dingo by the hood, and gave his catch a dubious look. “Don’t go dying before I say you can, you little rat ! I wanna see the look on your Navi’s face while I finish roasting you up !”

Dingo couldn’t even struggle against Burnerman’s grip. He was in too much pain. His consciousness was already fading away, his senses growing dull. He had one last glance for his tomahawk, its blade glinting amongst the flames. A last beacon of hope, soon engulfed into the blaze, while his enemy sung gleefully.

“Delivery, coming through !”

[castielsshield]

Noise

Title: Noise (Leave A Message Part 2)

Pairing: Female OC/Sam Winchester

Synopsis: After losing Jess, Sam continues to leave messages on her phone as a coping mechanism. Unbeknownst to Sam, that number has been adopted by another person.

Word Count: 1,696

Warnings: None

Part 1 || Part 3 || Masterpost

— • —

From that day forward, I continued getting voicemails from the stranger. I learned about him from the simple conversations he had with himself. Most of the time, the messages contained nothing but the man on the other end crying and apologizing to the woman named Jess. Every once in a while, details about his life seeped through.

    I learned that he had been going to college at Stanford, and he had dreams of becoming a lawyer with a family. The girl he was leaving messages to was his first love. The guy he mentioned in the first message, Dean, was his brother. They were working together to find their missing father.

     It went on like that for months. The messages began at the beginning of December. Now, it’s the beginning of May. Now, the voicemails started to change.

     My phone rang in the middle of the night, two in the morning, to be exact. I knew it wasn’t my father calling me; he wasn’t out on business at that time. ‘It must be Mystery Boy,’ I thought to myself, groggy from waking up without warning. Looking at my phone, I saw 'Mystery Boy' typed across the front of the screen, confirming my theory.

     Letting the phone ring until the mystery man reached my voicemail, I rolled over to turn on my lamp. Pulling out my chapter book, I began reading as the guy left a message to Jess on my phone.

     Around five minutes later, my phone notified me that I had a new voicemail with a now-familiar ping. I placed my bookmark in the dip between the pages and picked up my phone. I opened the phone, not bothering to look at what the screen said, and started the voicemail.

    Instead of meeting the usual sound of light crying as I had expected, the man spoke in a normal voice. Though it seemed to be his casual voice, there was still something there. A sadness that filled his words, impossible not to notice.

     “Hey, Jessica. As you might know, today’s my birthday. I’m finally 23. It’s also been exactly six months since Yellow-Eyes killed you.” The voice paused for a moment as the man on the other end let out a tiny, miserable laugh. “Life has a bit of a messed up sense of humor, doesn’t it? We finally got a call from Dad. He told us to stop looking for him, but I know Dean. He’s not going to stop looking until we find him.”

     He stopped talking again, letting the statement hang in the air as he thought of what to say next. “On the brighter side of things, Dean and I are getting along pretty well. We’ve been pranking each other a lot.” He let out another laugh, but this time it was genuine. “We went to a bar not too long ago. When he was in the bathroom, I put superglue on the side of his beer. He never saw it coming. I'm pretty sure I've started a pranking war between us.”

     I smiled at the last part. ‘I’m glad he’s finally finding happiness after what happened to his girlfriend. I hope it stays that way for him.’

     “I miss you, Jess. I miss you so damn much. I haven’t gotten used to you being gone. I’m getting used to not getting phone calls from you. I’m getting used to not being able to smell your perfume on my clothes that you liked to wear on lazy days. But I’ll never get used to you being gone.” His voice grew sad again as he got lost in old memories of him and his deceased girlfriend. “I was going to ask you to marry me, you know. It would’ve been amazing to be able to call you my wife. I wanted to ask you as soon as I heard about my interview at the law school. I would have, but I couldn’t find a ring that was special enough to give to you.” He let out a deep sigh that made me feel as though the place where my heart should be was just an empty cavity.

     “I’m sorry. I have to go, Jess. Dean found another case a couple of days out from here. We’re going to pack up and head out. I’ll talk to you later, babe. I love you.”

     The voicemail ended with a beep, and I clicked save. ‘He was going to ask the woman to marry him. He wanted to have a life with her, but whatever killed Jessica snatched those dreams away from him. He mentioned something about a case. What are they, detectives? And what the hell is Yellow-Eyes?’

     I shook my head at myself and sighed. I turned my lamp off and pulled the blanket up to my neck, resting my head on the pillow. I tried pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind, but my brain was already too active to fall back asleep. I turned my lamp back on and went to sit at my desk.

     I sat down and pulled out one of my many sketchbooks. I leaned back in my chair, looking at the stars behind the glass of my bedroom window. Realizing I hadn’t looked at the stars in ages, I decided I wanted to get a better look at them. I grabbed a couple of things I would need to make a good drawing, my jacket, and my phone. Then, I slipped out of my room, careful to make as little noise as possible. I made my way to the back door, trying to stay completely silent.

     I was a few feet away from the door when I stepped on a creaky floorboard. It let out a groan from my weight, and I froze in place. I winced, praying that my dad’s snores were too loud for him to hear over. I held my breath, straining my ears to hear any noise that might be coming from my dad’s room.

     After a moment, I could make out the faint snores of my sleeping father. I let out a sigh of relief and crept forward, finally making it to the wooden back door. I unlocked the door and opened it enough so that I could slip out into the quiet May night. 

     I made my way over to the ladder attached to the side of the house and climbed onto the roof using one hand. Once I had made it to the middle of the roof. I sat down and placed my stuff next to me, taking special care to make sure my pens and pencils didn’t roll off the edge.

     I leaned backward, resting my back on the hard shingles of the roof, putting my hands by my sides. Tilting my head back as a breeze came by, the cool air gliding across my skin, I stared up at the sky. My eyes searched the dark void, trying to identify the different constellations.

     Our house, which is more like a big cabin, is far away from everything, resting in the middle of a massive piece of land. Because of that, there wasn’t a lot of light pollution to block out the bright stars of the night.

     As I looked up at the stars, taking in their ancient light, I realized that they weren’t the colors I thought they were. They weren’t white and yellow like I had always believed. Instead, they were blue and orange and red. ‘I know what I’m going to draw.’

     I sat up, picking up my sketchbook, and opening it to the next blank page. I began by coloring the entire background in a deep navy blue blended with black making it look like the night sky. Then, I used my white gel pen to create a pattern of stars that resembled a woman standing in a fire.

     With my lightest touch and a white colored pencil, I created faint lines connecting the stars. Together, they formed the silhouette of a woman standing among flames. It wasn't easy to see the white lines, but you could still make out what the image was.

     To top it off, I used my other colored pencils to shade in the color of the stars. The ones that made up the fire were yellow, orange, and red, while the ones shaded light blue created the woman's form.

     When I finally set my blue pencil down, my back and neck were sore from hunching over, but I completed the artwork. I packed up my supplies, taking a last look at my newest piece of art before closing my sketchbook.

     Leaning back against the roof, I looked up at the stars once more. Folding my hands behind my head, I imagined I could see the burning woman on the inky background of the night sky. The thought of something I created shining in the black-and-blue abyss for everyone to see was enough to make me smile.

     Lost in the peaceful moment, I could feel a tide of emotion building inside of me—love, happiness, calmness, peace. 

     The feeling shattered in an instant as the snap of a stick echoed from the woods.

     I sucked in a breath, my head snapping towards the direction of the sound. I squinted and strained my eyes, trying to make out what had caused the noise. Through the whole process, I was mentally cursing myself for not bringing my knife.

     Sitting stock-still, I waited for another moment to see if anything would happen. When nothing did, I gathered my things in my arms and made my way back down the ladder.

     Easing open the door, I was unable to lose my feeling of apprehension. I shook my head at myself. ‘It’s nothing, Ash. You’re being stupid. It’s the forest. It was an animal, nothing more.’

     But the moon was cold. The pale light bathing the earth no longer granted the feeling of safety it held earlier. The forest that had once offered a safe place was laughing at me, taunting me. I felt as though I was being watched. Watched by something that took everything safe and calming about my home away from me.

[2k18leo]

“Did you just kiss me?”

((reposting this because I made a few alterations. Happy (little late) New Year!!!)

“So, you think you’ll go through with it tonight?” April asked you with a smirk and an eyebrow wiggle. The two of you were heading up the elevator of the Marriott Marquis Hotel in Times Square. It was already past nightfall on New Years Eve and you were both lugging around big boxes of various fireworks to the roof, where you would later meet up with the turtles.

A warm, pink glow flashed across your cheeks as your eyes glanced to hers and then straight down to the floor. Letting out a little wry chuckle, you stammered, “I-I don’t know. I mean, all you guys are gonna be there and--” She cut you off,

“Girl,” she let out a groan, “So what? It’s New Years!” She straightened her glasses with her cheek while shrugging her shoulders. Her hands were placed in their usual spot, within the pockets of her bright yellow-green sweatshirt. “We’re literally gonna have the best seats in the city. It’ll be perfect!”

“What if he… rejects me?” You say in a joking way to help keep the mood light, but deep down that question has been burning inside you for so long.

April let out a hearty laugh, her shoulders twitching rhythmically, “Don’t be crazy. He would never.”

“But what if—” you began.

“But nothing, hon.” She cut you off, smiling, “Trust me. I know him. I know all of them. We’ve been friends since I was, what, eleven? You gon’ be just fine.”

April has known the boys for a much longer time than you have. You’ve only been friends with them for maybe a little over half a year? Maybe April did know what she was talking about… you hope.

The elevator finally came to a halt at the top floor and the both of you carried the boxes of fireworks out and down the hall to a fire escape exit. There, the two of you carefully climbed the rest of the way to the rooftop.

The crisp air hit you right away, blowing your hair out of your face and back behind you. And the lights. Wow. You never, ever seemed to get tired of this view. It was breathtaking, to say the least. An image could never entirely capture the beauty of that skyline. Billions of shimmering lights dazzled beneath you to miles ahead of you. But this, Times Square, there’s just nothing like it. Millions of people were crowded together at the base of the hotel, all clamoring, laughing, and continuously waiting for the big ball to eventually drop, marking a new year.

“Ayyeee, there’s my favorite girls!” You heard that familiar voice behind you. Turning around, you recognized the blue-clad turtle with the shit-eating grin, followed by his three brothers who were leaping up from the side of the building. Of course, Leo’s presence made a slight pink glow across your cheeks. Out of the corner of your eye you see April giving a smirk in your direction as she eyed the two of you. Leo was oblivious to the expressions between the both of you as you shot her a warning glance. The turtle’s mask tails lightly flapped in the wind as he made his way over to the boxes of fireworks.

“Ho-ho yeah! Let’s see what we got!” He rummaged through the boxes with Mikey when you heard Raph set down a large watercooler on the other side of you. He tossed you a soda in a koozie, which you gratefully accepted, and then one to April and another to Donnie. The purple-clad, who was tinkering on his bo staff to make sure the flame thrower worked, as well as the fire extinguisher, caught the soda without even glancing away from his weapon.

“How you been, Shorty?” said Raph, shutting the cooler after getting himself a soda, then using the cooler as a seat.

You answered, completely used to that nickname he had coined for you, “Great! Bit chilly, but what else is new, y’know?” You shrugged your shoulders in your big wool and polyester coat. The weather was even harsher on the roof of this building. “Still job hunting, so that’s a drag.”

“Ah, well,” said the snapping turtle, raising his soda can in your direction, “To a new year and a new job.” And everyone chimed in to repeat the phrase, wishing you good luck. An appreciative smile took a new expression upon your face as you raised your drink as well.

A short time passed and it was about seven minutes to midnight; you were mingling with Donnie and Raph about random topics. Mikey has been deejaying in the middle of the roof. You guys were sitting on the edge of the building, overlooking the crowd. You three were currently discussing where you would each like to travel and why. You could hear April howling with laughter from somewhere behind you, probably at some wise-crack Mikey or Leo made.

You kept a close eye on your phone to check the time. The closer it got to midnight, the more nerves scattered themselves inside your body. You were really trying hard to listen to Donnie explain how the pyramids of Egypt would be such a fascinating travel location because of all the myths saying that aliens created them or something, but your mind was just mostly focusing on a completely other topic. Leo.

While subconsciously nodding along to Donnie’s story, now off on some tangent about wheatfields, you were straining your ears just to hear Leo’s voice, or even his laugh, behind you. It was such an attracting sound. So sweet. Like honey attracts bees. And you, of course, were the bee. Gah, were you even going to have the balls to pull this off tonight? Every feeling inside of you was either rooting for it to happen or for you to back out and play it safe. Now normally, you weren’t a risk taker, but this was gonna be different. When that ball dropped, you were gonna change that part of yourself. This is the time to try new things, after all. Ugh. Why does this have to be so difficult?

“Yo, y/n!” Leo’s voice chimed, calling to you, “Hey, come look at what we’ve set up. D, bring your torch!”

You got up, followed by Donnie, and walked up to the other three who were gesturing to the fireworks they had laid out in such a specific pattern. Raph stayed behind to alert the rest of you when the time comes. Four minutes to midnight. The crowd’s cheering grew slightly louder as the time passed.

“Alrighty, so you got your standard Peony shells,” Mikey pointed at a few rather large firework casings, “Some Chrysanthemums, a few Willows, a Diadem, which I’m more than pumped more, your Palms, Horse Tails, and Rings. And as for the smaller stuff, we got Roman Candles, Fountains, Firecrackers, Sparklers, Smoke Bombs, and some Ground Spinners. So, I’ll definitely be the first to say, you girls hit the jackpot!”

Directly after April first bumped you proudly, Leo nudged your shoulder in an approving way. You smiled up at him, praying that he couldn’t see the blush on your face. He smiled back and you couldn’t tell if he gave you a wink or not, the moment passed too quick. Okay, two minutes to midnight.

“Aye, the ball’s about to drop.” Raph called to us, “C’mon, let’s go!”

You all made your way back over to the edge of the building, hanging your legs over the edge. You sat by Mikey, who plopped himself in between you and April, and Leo made his seat on the other side of you. Something in your heart did a tiny dance and you couldn’t help but smile. Not just about the fact that Leo was sitting next to you, but about the whole scene. Times Square, the crowd of millions of people beneath your feet, you literally dangling your feet off the edge of the rooftop of a towering hotel, your closest friends in the world by your side. Honestly, what could top this?

There it went, the chrome ball that everyone had their eyes on, slowly falling every second. The swarm of people below you started chanting, “SEVEN… SIX… FIVE… FOUR…”

You and the gang joined in, “THREE… TWO… ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Loud cheers and screams echoed all around you. Mikey spun his flaming kusari-fundo around above his head in a celebratory twirl, making you laugh. You turned to your other side to finally do it. You were going to kiss Leo. This was it. Your body felt so light. A huge smile was across your face as you turned to face him. But before you could even act on anything, his hands were latched to your cheeks with his lips pressed against yours. Wait. He kissed you?! Immediately, Mikey said exactly what you were thinking,

“Omigosh!”

April laughed at Mikey’s reaction as you flooded out all noise around you. So, this is what it was like… kissing him. Wow. You couldn’t believe your senses. The only thing that made you pull away was a thundering BOOM that erupted above you. Once you realized it was only Donnie who had set off the first of the fireworks, you looked back to Leo who was smiling wildly at you.

You smiled back and then realization hit you a second time, “D-Did you just kiss me?”

His expression faltered a little bit. Was that disappointment in your voice? But he nodded back with a smaller smile. Your eyes lit up as another firework went off above the roof. Without warning, you practically threw yourself on him, kissing him again.

Behind you, Mikey turned to April, “Did you see—?”

April nodded in a smug fashion, “Yeah, she planned for it.”

“Pay up; he kissed her first,” said Raph, chuckling to April. He held his hand out, awaiting his prize for winning some bet he and April had set months ago. April rolled her eyes and slapped a ten dollar bill in his huge hand.

The rest of the night was spent with laughter and shimmering lights followed by booming sounds. Leo had his arm around you most of the time, when he wasn’t trying to do some reckless tricks over the fountain fireworks, of course. Mikey was trying out some moves with his kusari-fundo by trying to light multiple fireworks at once. Donnie was ready with the fire extinguisher application wired into his staff. Raph and April were having a Roman Candle fight and laughing when Leo got hit with one of the blasts. When you checked to see if he was alright, trying to stifle the laughter that was bubbling inside you, he gave you a reassuring wink and kissed you on the forehead before lighting a Roman Candle himself to chase Raph with. Was it always this easy? Why did you believe things had to be so complicated? He liked you back. After months of overthinking things, he actually liked you back. What a wonderful start to the year.

[fandom-necromancer]

822. The rain is nice, isn’t it?

I know my prompted stories are prio 1 but I found this half-written in my work document and just found enough time to complete it. And one story is better than no story, right? ;)

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

‘You are being partnered up with a new guy fresh from the academy.’ ‘You are kidding me. Why not just fire me? Spares you the problem of dealing with a traumatised newcomer.’ ‘He is an android, Reed.’ ‘Great, so you won’t have to fire me, because the phcking thing will beat me to the hospital to never return to the job. Nice move.’ ‘Gavin! Could you stop with the racist bullshit for just one second? Just because you pissed off Connor enough doesn’t mean every android is out to get you.’ He stopped to await any comment, but Gavin kept his mouth shut firmly. In fact, he was wondering why his teeth hadn’t yet given in to the force he bit down on them. ‘As I said: Android. Will be your partner. He has newly deviated and has yet to decide on a career. We were chosen because his initial purpose would have been an investigator of some sort, not unlike Connor. And he could give him guidance, as he is in the same precinct.’ ‘Fine, fine, and what the hell is that supposed to mean for me?’, Gavin spat, begrudgingly accepting what fate had in store for him. ‘Be nice, Reed.’ ‘You gotta be phcking-‘ ‘Out of my office!’

In the end the tin-can wasn’t that bad. In fact, not much had changed to what it had been before: Gavin worked alone, sat hunched over his desk emptying mugs of coffee and being a general asshole to whoever dared to talk to him. The toaster sat opposite to him, working diligently on his tasks, completing reports Gavin had left unfinished during a smoke break and always sending in a complete transcript of any crime scene they came back from or of any witness interview they might have pursued. It was an effective working arrangement Gavin had never experienced in his life forced to get along with nosy idiots and too big egos. The major reason for them being able to work together so well was that the android never spoke.

In a whole of three weeks now not a single word had passed these lips. Even with Connor, he did that weird android-connection-thingy and went on with it. At this point, Gavin asked himself whether the thing could talk at all. But his curiosity never went so far as to actually pick up a conversation with it. He cherished the silence too much to break it. Especially if that android hadn’t decided yet to stay.

The fourth week started with a coffee magically appearing on his desk. He had just arrived at work and the toaster was already working – maybe still working? Gavin didn’t care. He looked around for whoever had placed the cup there. Was this a prank? Someone pouring salt in it just waiting for him to drink it? He picked it up curiously, before even starting his computer. It was still warm, hot even. Freshly made. He sniffed at it but couldn’t find anything wrong. The last careful sip cleared his suspicion then: It was just a regular coffee, black with sugar, just how he liked it. Had to be Tina. She was the only one knowing how he took his coffee. Now to what she had done wrong for her to make sure he was in a good mood…

He couldn’t find anything, and Tina denied having ever prepared him coffee. But fair enough the next day there was another perfectly made cup on his desk. Also, whenever he had gone for a cigarette pause or on the toilet there was always another one there. He swore he was going crazy. Who the hell would do that? For what reason? But after another week it was just another thing that happened. Magically appearing coffees weren’t something bad after all.

‘Reed!’ Gavin flinched at the sudden shout. ‘Reed, you fucking asshole did you really just tell a witness to go fuck themselves? I can’t-‘ Gavin had turned around towards Hank, who was suddenly interrupted by his ringing phone. ‘Hank Anderson? Yeah- yeah- what? No! Of course, I do! No, now listen!’ He shot Gavin an angry look before turning and walking away talking on his phone. Well, that was weird.

‘Hey, Reed, have you seen these…’ Gavin looked up to Chris, who frowned at his vibrating phone the exact same moment, then shrugged. ‘Thanks, T’, he called into the bullpen, then walked off to his desk. Gavin locked eyes with Tina, who just stared at him with the same clueless expression. Gavin shook his head and turned back to his work.

‘Hey, Gavin I need these-‘ The third person to try and talk to him that day was interrupted by loud music from a Youtube-video playing on his work PC. ‘Ah shit!’ With that he was gone, and Gavin sat there again completely oblivious to what was going on.

Finally, he had enough and jumped from his chair. ‘What kind of damn game are you all playing, huh?’ He was met by clueless, even startled faces. ‘Don’t think I didn’t notice this shit! What the hell is going on?’ More silence followed as no one seemed to have a clue what he meant. ‘Fine. Fine! I need a phcking break!’

He stomped off to the breakroom just to cool down a bit. More coffee wouldn’t be good for him, as he had his steady supply prepared by whatever idiot played that elaborate prank on him. He absent-mindedly noticed Connor walking over to the new android and talking to him. But it just offered his hand in return, like always. God, he needed a goddamn break from this. From all of this! He grabbed his package of cigarettes from his desk and marched outside to get some fresh air.

He took a deep breath of cold air and sighed. Why was today such a weird day? It had all been fine not so long ago. He stared into the light rain outside the front porch, cigarette in hand, unlit. He couldn’t bring himself to getting the lighter.

Behind him the door opened, and Gavin tensed again. Couldn’t he be left alone for two minutes? He turned to look at the calm blue circle of the new android’s LED. ‘What do you want, toaster?’, He sighed ready to end this phcking day. ‘Ah, forgot, you don’t speak, right. How silly of me!’

He turned back, flicking his lighter a few times to produce a tiny flame that was blown out by the wind as soon as he had it near enough to the cigarette. Frustrated he pushed lighter and cigarette back into his pocket. Fine. No smoking then.

He watched the android step out from underneath the roof to stretch out one hand into the rain and smile as the first drops gathered on the white chassis. If freaked Gavin out again and again seeing androids without their skin.

‘The rain is nice, isn’t it?’

Gavin stared at the android and for once couldn’t hide his open surprise. ‘S-So you do speak!’ ‘Yes’, the android answered. ‘But I don’t like it. Too many possibilities to hurt unintentionally.’ He let his arm sink again, watching the water drop to the ground. ‘You never talked. I like that. I thought I could repay you by direct the others away from you.’ ‘Heh, pretty shitty having Connor as a guardian then’, Gavin commented without intonation. ‘I agree. He is rather… Noise based’, the android nodded. Gavin laughed at that and met the confused eyes of the machine. The Detective just continued to chuckle and slapped his arm: ‘Hey, maybe we have more in common than I initially thought. Come on. Let’s get back in. Gavin’s the name.’ ‘Nines.’

[kathyprior4200]

Hidden Hazbin Sins

NOT FOR KIDS! NO COPYRIGHT INTENDED.

For many of the residents in Hell, it was an average day of chaos, murder, sex, drugs, and drama. Poverty-stricken demons smuggled food from dumpsters while others snuck into darkened stores. More disturbingly, other demons even resorted to cannibalism on unlucky citizens who had been killed in gang fights, run over, or stabbed to death by Exterminator harpoons.

The Happy (Hazbin) Hotel seemed to be running fairly smoothly with the addition of the clean-freak cyclops demon Niffty and even the indifferent gambling alcoholic Husk. Charlie, the blond-haired demon princess, stood outside wearing a red bellhop uniform complete with gold buttons, gold threads hanging around the brim of her small red hat and a ruby apple necklace around her neck. Her face was white, eyes yellow, and red blushes were off to the sides of her face. She remembered a week ago when the hotel first opened, cutting a tied up red piece of ribbon with a large pair of scissors, the crowd clapping half-heartedly. Currently, she was holding the door for a line of demons waiting to get in.

“Welcome to the Happy Hotel!” said the princess cheerfully. Razzle and Dazzle were busy lifting up luggage and placing them on a rolling cart to go up into the elevator. Though many of the demons rolled their eyes and snarled at Charlie, she kept up her positive demeanor.

Inside, a banner hung over a front desk with several colorful balloons and streamers off to the sides.

“No more sin, share a big grin!” Charlie recited her motto. “Vaggie will check you in and get you situated at the front desk.”

She mentioned to her moth demon friend, who saw her and blushed with a small smile, blowing her a quick kiss. Vaggie turned to a light blue dragon in the front.

“I have a reservation for a room with a balcony,” the dragon said, his wings folded. He showed her his cell phone in his claw which showed the order he had made online.

Vaggie looked it over and nodded. “Two nights here, room 666, with a cost of…”

Charlie looked over at Vaggie. “They don’t have to pay any souls. This place is free for the first one hundred customers!”

“What?!” Vaggie exclaimed in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Because I just came up with it today,” she explained. “If we are to encourage demons to come here to get better, why not make it free for them?”

“Your Dad won’t be happy about that.”

“I know. But it’s my hotel, and I might as well leave a friendly impression.”

“Move it, bitch,” scoffed a green snake-like demon with a pink dress and dark green hair who shoved Charlie aside with her hand. Charlie’s eyes glowed red for a second, but she took a deep breath. Vaggie pointed her harpoon weapon at the snake lady and glared. Heeding her warning, the snake huffed, flipped back her straggly green hair and moved on to her room.

Charlie shrugged, as she continued to hold the door. “It’s a start, right?”

Vaggie sighed and continued with her next customer, a werewolf. “Room 66 is currently occupied. 63 is available if you’d like to stay on that floor.”

Dazzle flew into the room, lifted down one of many old fashioned blood-stained key and placed it on the desk.

Vaggie handed the key to the brown furry demon. “The bar is over down the hall to your left. Charlie’s Fun and Games event will start at 7:00pm in the dance room. Ring your room bell and Niffty will fetch you breakfast in the morning. If you have any questions, just ask me or Charlie.”

“I have a question,” said a familiar sounding voice as the werewolf left for his room. The white spider demon Angel Dust strutted up to the desk, with his usual white and pink striped outfit on and pink gloves on four of his hands.

“One second,” Vaggie said. She turned to him. “What, Angel?” Vaggie deadpanned.

“Do you know where the drug vending machine is here? I want some Angel Dust and I’m getting tired of those purple popsies to be honest.”

“What’s in a name!” someone commented from in the line.

Vaggie crossed her arms. “No drugs are allowed here. It’s problematic enough that alcohol is being served here. We don’t need any more of your ideas. I’m busy here!”

Angel continued, “What we also need is a stage with new poles for dancing on. Italian electro music, and a secret strip club in the basement! Man, that’d be the shit!”

A black dinosaur-like demon growled at Angel. “Go fuck yourself, slut.”

Angel just grinned widely. “Only if you watch me, hot stuff.”

“Get out!” Vaggie bellowed, pointing toward the door.

“Oh well,” Angel shrugged. “Time to make some moves on Husk. It’s so easy to warm up to him when he’s drunk…”

Angel happily scurried away while Vaggie face-palmed. “Someone kill me a second time,” she muttered out loud.

“Can I do it?” asked the snake demon, who peered out of her room.

“No!” Charlie and Vaggie yelled at the same time, startling the snake who ducked back into her room. Charlie and Vaggie laughed from across the room. Almost losing hold of the door, Charlie grabbed onto the handle again, smiling back at the visitors.

 Later on that evening, the bar was packed full of demons scattered around in every direction. A group of dragons were sitting together, enjoying flaming spirits of liquor that Husk had brought to them. A family of red imps were playing cards over by a booth. Only a group of doll demons seemed to enjoy the rainbow decorated karaoke section that Charlie had set up. They sang at the top of their lungs and danced in a circle.

“See? They’re getting it!” Charlie smiled, sitting next to Vaggie. Vaggie let out a small smile. “Well, I’m impressed, Charlie. Maybe your idea will be successful in the long run.”

Charlie brushed Vaggie’s long white hair from her light gray face, careful not to touch the pink X over her friend’s eye. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Angel Dust giggled under his breath nearby and began to do a slutty dance on a table.

“Anyone have a lampshade I could use?”

A random one hit him in the face. “Thanks, dick!” he called putting it over his head.

“Wow, he remembered my name,” smiled a blushing Dick, an orange-faced demon with an elongated forehead shaped like…

“Will you cut that out?” Husk hissed as he glanced at Angel shaking his butt as the demons laughed and jeered.

“You like that?” he asked, hearing Husk’s voice. “I figured you would, deep down.”

“Son of a crackhead,” Husk muttered.

“Heard that, cat in the hat! Sadly, it’s true, though.”

The two girlfriends relaxed as the demons chatted (and fought) among themselves. Husk drank more booze behind the counter in several gulps. Niffty scurried to dust off cobwebs, mop the floors, and carry any remaining luggage to the room or outside.

Charlie stared at the nearby stage, the microphone vacant.

“Say…has anyone seen Alastor?”

“Nope, not me,” replied Angel, still dancing with the lampshade on his head. “Then again, I can’t see much of anything.”

“Take that damn thing off!” said Vaggie. “It’s unprofessional!”

“Sorry, tots, can’t hear you over the sound of how sexy I am!” he replied.

“Not me,” Vaggie said.

“Nor me,” said Husk. “Thank Lucifer. That radio punk was getting on my last nerves. Glad I don’t have to hear any more dad jokes tonight.”

“But he always comes on Fridays and the weekend,” Charlie says. “And it’s a new moon on Earth, I think. He always comes up with new tricks to share with us during that time.”

“When’d you get into that stuff?” Husk asked.

“Human studies,” Charlie replied. “Oh what it could mean to be a human for the first time…”

“It’s a shithole if you ask me,” Husk replied. “Lost chances, war, depression, the whole nine yards.”

“Or life can be good,” said Vaggie, “Until, you get…assaulted by a bunch of masculine pigs.”

An old pig demon oinked at her in anger and slurped up a mud smoothie.

“Heh, no offence?”

“It’s alright, Vaggie,” said Charlie. “Perhaps when we go to Heaven, we’ll learn more about all kinds of people.”

“I can’t hear you,” Vaggie mentioned.

Charlie snapped her fingers and the noise in the bar dulled own to a fading hum. The spell would last for several minutes. For now, it was just Vaggie and Charlie talking in the crowded room, no one else noticing.

“You’re the daughter of the devil and a seducing being,” Vaggie pointed out. “You may not ever get redeemed.”

“But how do we know?” Charlie asked. “Think about it. My dad got sent down from Heaven for going to the dark side. There has to be a way for demons to rise up from Hell! There’s like two sides of a large coin.”

“You’re forgetting Earth and tons of other places,” Vaggie said. “Even if that would be the case, how good would we have to be to get sent to Heaven or even back to Earth?”

“Perhaps by showing more…humanity.” Charlie said, wistfully.

“Ugh, not this again.” Vaggie leaned closer and spoke in a low voice. “Look. I’m willing to be open minded about the possibility of Heaven existing. It’s something I learned about in my life, after all. But to think these demons have some connection to humans…”

Charlie cut her off, lowing her hands sideways slightly in a downward motion to make her point. “They not only used to be souls…they are still souls! Deep down, as long as they’re somewhat alive, they retain some amount of their human characteristics from their past lives!”

“Not fuckin’ buying it.”

“Vaggie, it only makes sense. I’ve seen it for myself when my family showed me the Purge. They briefly showed their human forms before they were killed. This proves that they aren’t true monsters. They need help. They need love, just like everyone else. Dad and Mom don’t want to believe it, but…I have a feeling they also know it to be true.”

Charlie continued, changing the topic into something more light-hearted. “Perhaps Heaven has animal-like bipedal creatures as well, but nicer and fluffier! Maybe with angel wings. Humans and animals are everywhere, within many angels and demons!”

Vaggie held on firmly to Charlie’s shoulders, and stared her straight in the eye, raising her voice slightly more toward a normal tone. “Charlie, listen to me. I, too, have…seen things. Earth, Heaven, Hell…they’re all different. From what I heard, angels belong in Heaven and demons belong in Hell. The evil humans come down here, already dead. Living humans belong on Earth. That’s just the way it works.”

Something in Vaggie’s eyes told Charlie that her friend wasn’t entirely convinced of her own spoken words.

“Swear on your afterlife…for your own safety and sanity, you will not tell anyone else about this.”

Charlie looked around, eyes wide. “Do you think…some demons will want to take advantage of me and…my position as heir?”

“Finally out of your childhood comfort zone,” Vaggie mentioned with a solemn nod. “Please, Charlie. I will do whatever I can to help you redeem these sinners. But, promise me, you will be smart and always watch your back. You can’t trust everyone.” Vaggie stared at her scarred chest and put a hand up to her eye. “I learned that lesson the hard way.”

Charlie’s soundproof spell had ended, and the noise of the bar came back in full force.

“Ya girls done?” Angel asked, white hair frazzled from dancing and wearing the lampshade.

“Yep,” said Charlie. “Anything you need?”

“Other than a whiff of coke and a thrill of a fight, I’m good.” He picked up a cherry from a drink and sucked on it.

“Time to go see Cherri Bomb. She’s making actual cherry bombs for our next turf attack! Catch you guys later!” He winked and swaggered out of the room.

“Why did you bring him here, again?” Vaggie asked with a sigh.

Charlie answered. “He was clean for two weeks, and now…well, I’m going to give him another chance. It’s the only thing to do.”

“Whatever you say,” Vaggie answered. She held on gently to Charlie’s hand and the princess squeezed back affectionately.

 “But seriously, though…where is Alastor?” Charlie asked, more to herself, looking back at the stage. “He was a big help to starting the hotel and it was fun dancing with him.”

“I swear I’ll gut him if he ever makes a move on you again,” Vaggie seethed. “Let’s forget about that cocky bastard and enjoy ourselves.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Charlie smiled. “But I have faith that he’ll change for the better. You’ll see.”

  The red neon Pentagram symbol in the sky was the only thing that lit up the time that was considered night time. Though the sky was constantly red, the demons still kept track of time in their afterlives, despite the fact that such a concept may not exist outside of Earth. The one thing that died harder than any sinner was old human habits.

Two small imp-like demons by the names of Tee and Vee wondered around in the shadows, Tee holding a small black cell phone. Tee was short, fat and dark purple in color, while Vee was thin and red. Both had horns, clawed feet and hands as well as small pointed tails. Both were wearing black suits with blue Wi-Fi logos on them. They were mini mercenaries and spies hired by none other than Vox, the TV demon. On this night, they were sent on another one of their missions.

They spoke in New York accents or perhaps Australian accents. It was hard to tell because they talked so fast.

“Another night, another dollar,” Tee said. He reached for a small arrow and threw it at an unsuspecting ogre. The beast roared as the arrow exploded against his foot. The ogre fell to the ground and Tee jumped up toward his face. In one swift motion, mid jump, he got out a spear from his utility belt and stabbed it right though the ogre’s large yellow right eye. Vee stepped in to finish the job, finally ending the monster’s agonized yells.

The duo had their gruesome eye kabab snack on a spear as they walked along.

“Need at least 66 kills tonight,” said Tee. “That should be doable.”

“But remember what Vox really wants,” Vee reminded him. “A chance to overthrow his rival overlords. Just think, we’ll be internet stars after we help Vox conjure Hell!”

Tee elbowed him sharply. “He will get all the credit, jackass, not us. We’re just doing this ‘cause we have no choice.”

“Oh, don’t be so glum, bum,” Vee said. “Though yours is quite big.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. Anyway, we’ll still be recognized in some form. Perhaps he’ll be especially pleased with us and beckon us over to his bedroom…”

Tee shook his head, clenching his purple fists. “All Vox does is take selfies with Velvet and talk dirty to Valentino on the phone. He gets the good life, while we’re out here doing his dirty work.”

“Makes it easier on him,” Vee said. “He’s busy making plans, after all. You know about the New World Order? Project Mech Tech? Several secret plans of his involving keeping everyone glued to their screens. Brainwashing, propaganda, convincing ads. It’s already just as powerful as it is in the human world. ‘Xept down here, Vox can bend others to his will.”

“Like…us?”

“Those who are either sheep or foolhardy enough to stand up to him.”

“But they’re demons, not sheep.”

“Tee, you retarded, ass!” He punched his college in the face and the two demons rolled down the street in a snowball spiraling brawl.

They yelled and grabbed onto each other’s tails, biting and screeching insults.

“Tee, pee!”

“Bum, scum!”

“Gas ass!”

“Slut, mutt!”

Nearby, a smoking female hellhound barked in disapproval.

“Butt…what?”

Vee stopped and stared straight ahead.

“Coward, what’s your pro…” Tee began, before noticing the direction the orange demon was looking toward.

“…blem?”

They stood up and saw a long black alleyway in front of them. The ground was littered with broken glass, cigarette butts, and the occasional skull here and there. Graffiti was spray-painted on the brick walls in various colors of red, blue, yellow, and green. They were mostly expletive words, nude women, and crying demon stick figures surrounded by flames. Further up above, someone had spray painted a rainbow with sun rays coming out from it. A foul scent of garbage and rotten flesh permeated the space.

Vee peered into the darkness and heard the faint sound of footsteps and humming. A distinct feel of…electricity? ... hiding among the shadows.

 Tee shuddered, holding up his clawed hands. “No, no, no, no, I ain’t goin’ in there.”  

“I sense a powerful presence,” Vee stated. “If we don’t take a risk, who will? Besides, if we don’t show up with some special report this time, Vox will have our heads.”

“He…wouldn’t…right?”

Vee grabbed onto Tee’s plump arm. “Just come on!”

“Okay…whoa, slow down,” he called as he was dragged along.

They slowed their pace as they reached the cracked dead end. The path turned off to the left, ending in another wider dead end further away. The walls were on either side of both paths with no windows or doors. Well…save for an old wooden door that was behind a pair of old curtains made from circus tent flaps.

A silhouette of a demon stood in front of the door, drawing a pentagram symbol in the air. A little golden keyhole appeared to the right and a matching old-fashioned key was pulled out from a pocket. The key went in and the door opened with a slow creek.

“Let’s go,” Vee whispered. They followed the figure not too far behind from the door.

They continued walking, occasionally glancing up at the red sky above them. The eerie silence was soon replaced with humming from the demon in front of them. It sounded distinctly male and appeared to be a jolly tune. Vee couldn’t quite name the song the man was singing, but it made him feel strangely at ease. It reminded him of those songs he heard at the circus or at musicals he attended with his parents. Not that it mattered now, since his parents were dead due to the so called “angels.” Tee on the other hand, was quivering, his legs itching to race right out of there.

“Come on, man,” Tee whispered. “Let’s kill this demon and leave.”

Vee let out a silent gasp and tapped Tee on the shoulder. “Look.”

They both stopped as the figure’s footsteps ceased further ahead.

For a moment, all was dark and quiet.

A snap of fingers was heard and five white candles were lit up at the same time. They were at the end of the alleyway, this time surrounded by circular concrete walls. The man was standing in the center of a crimson pentagram surrounded by a red circle that was drawn on the ground, taking up most of the space. The white candles glowed with yellow light at the ends of the five points.

“Whoa, is that who I think it is?” whispered Tee, so low that he could barely be heard. He held up his phone and started to record.

 The figure was revealed in the candlelight: a slender man wearing a tattered pinstriped red dress coat, trailing along slightly behind him. Dark shoes with red deer hoof-prints on the bottom soles. Red and black fur upon his head with large furry deer-like ears with black tips. Small dark antlers sticking out from between his ears. Thin neck and slander arms and legs. A vintage microphone staff stood in his right hand.

“Yes,” Vee said in a hushed tone. “The Radio Demon.”

Alastor walked over to a large deer skull stained with blood, antlers still intact. The trophy was attached to the wall via an old wooden plaque. He walked over and slowly knocked on the bone forehead seven times. It was a “shave and a haircut” sounding knock.

The Radio Demon stepped back as the skull’s slanted eyes glowed red. A scroll dropped out from its mouth but with a wave of his hand, it vanished. A spiral symbol in the center of the pentagram lit up: a universal symbol for a portal. The demon hummed some more.

With Tee still recording, Vee excitedly reached for his phone. He had to alert Vox. At last, the duo would be getting their big break…and a hefty sum of souls for their night’s work.

He began to rapidly text, his phone set to silent, the brightness of the screen turned as low as possible:

Vee: “Lord Vox, it’s V, T of 19:29. Radio Demon’s hideout found. Located at west end of…”

“A-CHOO!”

Tee sneezed out loud into his arm, phone in his other hand. The Radio Demon’s ears twitched at the noise. The humming stopped. The candles went out.

Tee and Vee rammed their backs against the nearest wall, not daring to move or even breathe. They heard the shuffling of feet, and the subtle sound of the microphone staff moving slightly side to side.

For an entire minute, nobody made a sound. Vee turned to Tee and both of them moved their eyes toward the other direction. Vee held up three fingers then mimicked tiptoeing side-ways. Getting the message, Tee followed Vee, shuffling three quiet steps to the right. After ten seconds, they moved again. Tee still recorded with a shaky hand in the dark, while Vee was careful not to drop his phone.

Vee pointed toward the exit and Tee nodded. Vee began to tip-toe from the wall, inch by inch making his way toward the open wooden door.

A slow creaking sound made then briefly freeze. For some reason, the door wasn’t moving.

A chilling sensation crept to the backs of the demon’s necks. Both of them turned back to look through the darkness.

 But the only lights they saw in the distance were the glowing red radio dials in the Radio Demon’s two eyes. The creaking sound was, in fact, the demon’s head slowly turning backward to stare right at the terrified faces of Tee and Vee.

SLAM!

The wooden door whammed shut, causing Tee and Vee to jump and yelp.

The world turned into a psychedelic mess of vibrant colors. Reds, blues, and greens morphed together in the sky and along the walls. Shadows of deer heads dripping blood danced along a red-lit wall like shadow puppets.

“Open the door!” Vee cried, punching against the wood, which was now colored a strange yellow.

“There’s no handle!” Tee replied, kicking at it in vain.

“Ack! I’m blue!” said Vee, staring at his light blue body in the strange light.

“I think you’re seeing red!” Tee replied, failing to notice his fat crimson body.

Vee grabbed daggers and bomb arrows and threw them rapidly in front of him. The Radio Demon dodged them all and merged into the shadowy ground.

“He’s…gone?” Tee asked, looking through his phone camera.

Vee held on tight his phone and glanced back at the texts, finger hovering over the “send” button.

The red dial-eyes emerged right in front of their faces, rows of sharp yellow teeth appearing below. Though the sudden loud radio static that filled their ears, Tee and Vee screamed. A voodoo spirit shaped like a black lizard with white eyes snatched the phone from Vee’s hand, dropping it by Alastor’s left foot before scurrying off. He brought down his pointed shoe and crushed the device to pieces, sparks flying, screen cracked. The remainder of the pieces burst into flames and vanished.

Before Vee could blink, two black tentacles sprouted rapidly from holes in the ground and latched themselves onto the demon’s arms, pinning them back. He struggled to escape, but they were wrapped too tightly.

Tee was running as fast as his little legs could carry him, the camera phone shaking with every step. He put the phone in his pocket, ran up to the wall, jumped, and grabbed onto a small branch sticking out from a hole in the worn down concrete. Knowing the branch could break at any moment, he frantically searched around for another handhold.

A-ha!

Up off slightly to the right, was a crack large enough for him to dig his claws into. Tee took a deep breath, preparing himself. If he could push off with his legs, swing toward the crack, get ready to let go…

The branch snapped off as he was forcibly brought down with a hard tug coming from near his legs. He phone fell out of his pocket, landing sideways on the ground. The camera showed two more black tentacles wrapping around Tee’s stubby legs, dragging him toward Alastor as he screamed. Even digging into the ground with his claws did no good.

Another tentacle gently lifted up the phone and brought it back as well.

Alastor cocked his head to the side, his mouth in an ever-present smile. Vee was lifted up to Alastor’s level and held close to the wall.

Vee laughed nervously. “Oh, hey, Alastor. Heh heh. Great seeing you this f-fine night. I-I wasn’t gonna do anything, I swear.”

The reply was a dark chuckle mixed with static.

Vee felt Alastor’s four-fingered hands grip his head.

“I…I won’t say anything! Way too young to die again. Please…”

Vee’s head crashed against the wall with a loud thud. He let out a high pitched scream.

“Owww! No! Tee, get outta…AUUUGH!”

Vee gagged as his skull cracked against the concrete. Bile filled the demon’s mouth and dark red stained the wall. He gasped for air, black spots across his vision. After his head was slammed against the wall a third time, Vee’s eyes rolled back and his thin body limped downward, relaxed.  Shards of skull and bits of brain spilled to the ground. Alastor reached down toward the utility belt, and pulled out a dagger. He severed the demon’s head, clean off. The lifeless head fell to the ground, rolling until stopping near a restrained Tee.

Tee reeled back as far as he could, yelling through a tendril that was covering his mouth. Alastor smiled down at him, red dials moving, antlers expanding from his head. He held out his palm and flames appeared along with faint symbols hovering around them.

For several minutes, all Tee knew was a searing hot pain consuming his body, the smell of smoke, and the reeking smell of burning flesh around them. He inhaled the smoke and heard the radio static buzzing in his ears. All Tee could do was close his eyes and wait out the agony. Hoping that the heat and noise would soon…

Fade away…

Slipping into…black…

…constant…

…peace.

 With that, the Radio Demon tossed the phone into the flames, the camera and screen revealing his demonic face before the device exploded into electric sparks.

 The colors returned to normal and the flames went out. The only sound was the sound of static, slowly fading back into the vintage microphone. His eyes returned to their normal full red color and his antlers shrunk until they were small sticks on his head once again.

   He snapped his fingers and the white candles lit up again. The skull’s eyes glowed red.

Clearing his throat, Alastor spoke the password in the Creole language:

“Ou pa janm konplètman abiye

San yon souri!”

(You’re never fully dressed without a smile)

  The eyes glowed green and the ground below him vanished. Flames rose from the circle surrounding the pentagram. The inner circle was now a portal to a “basement” of Hell.

Several shadowy spirits rushed out of the hole, ecstatic to be free and to roam wild. Though the ground had disappeared below him, he stood perfectly still where he was.

More tendrils rose from the ground and wove together to form stairs starting at the top near Alastor’s feet. He walked merrily down as the portal slowly closed.

He reached the bottom of the stairs and made his way forward.

“My cozy lair, how much I’ve missed you.”

The lair was a sort of mashup between a haunted house and a middle class home from the early 1920’s.

Black walls stood on either side, blending in so well, it looked like the black ether outside. Red metal columns lined the sides and supporting the high black ceiling above. The black floor stopped at an area and wooden floorboards filled the rest of the ground. It gave the appearance of a floor torn up by an earthquake on the edge.

The first room was the living room. An elegant fireplace contained red flames that were constantly burning. A black leather couch faced a red wall that was decorated with various deer head trophies of many sizes. Some were stuffed versions of real brown deer. Others were the rotten partially furry heads of deer monsters from Hell. A fair amount were deer skulls with arching antlers. A resting rifle was displayed on the top of the fireplace, the same one he used as a human long ago. A red rug lay below the couch and took up much of the living room. The walls had borders with antler designs all in a row.

 Attached to the living room was the kitchen. The wood floor met black and white checkered tile, a green line separating the different kinds. There was a high wooden countertop with a couple of bar stools facing the living room. Several appliances included an old fashioned stove, wooden cabinets, a metal sink and a mustard yellow fridge with an icebox.

Alastor opened the fridge door and gasped out loud.

“Oh my Satan!”

Among the eggs, food, and drinks was a severed purple demon head, with one eye missing.

He reached in with his hand…and pulled out an empty cartoon.

“Curses, I’m out of milk!” he exclaimed. “How am I supposed to have cereal tomorrow?”

He shut the door and sighed. “Oh well. I can always have a snack, instead.”

 There were fans in every room (no air conditioning in Hell). To the left of the kitchen, a darkened path led to the bathroom and two bedrooms. There was also an extra room where Alastor kept all his radio equipment ready: a small microphone, headphones, a control panel of buttons, and even a sign that would lit up and read “on the air” in bold letters.

The bathroom consisted of a toilet, and a vanity with a mirror and a sink with two separate faucets for hot and cold water. Taking up much of the space was a black clawed bathtub in the shape of a cauldron. Alastor turned one of the knobs and a stream of dark red blood jetted out of the large faucet. He turned another knob and streams of red liquid sprayed out from the dish-sized shower head overhead. He tightened the knobs and the blood ceased flowing.

“Good, it still works,” Alastor said, relieved.

He made his way past the guest bedroom to his own room.

A twin-size bed had red satin sheets and a quilt made of soft deer fur neatly folded on the top of the bed toward the edge. The two pillows were neatly fluffed up and propped against the wooden headboard.

Closer to the doorway stood an old fashioned small screen TV with two large antennae jutting out from the top. It was light tan in color, complete with knobs on the front and to the sides. When he pushed the power button on the remote, a black and white show slowly appeared on screen. Unlike many old TV’s and remotes, Alastor had upgraded his with magic, allowing him to go to multiple channels. He watched some picture shows for a while on his bed, then turned the TV off.

He peered out a window, watching the outside world…or lack thereof.

This was a void world, a dimension where the Loas and shadow spirits resided and where the black tentacles originated…from mythical monsters in dark pits. Alastor’s lair hovered in place among the blackness. The demon grinned as he spotted rogue demons being chased, and sometimes mauled on by voodoo shadow creatures. A wrecked blaster from Sir Pentious’ blimp floated in the space. Here was were all the items and victims went when Alastor pulled them into the parallel place. Sometimes Alastor would send unlucky individuals here for entertainment and substance for the Loas. In return, they allowed him easy control of his powers. (Sure he was powerful enough already on his own, but even he knew that dark magic was dangerous for everyone.)

 Alastor stepped down and opened his closet doors, revealing an array of suits, pants and shoes, mostly in dark reds and blacks.

 But nestled behind the line of clothing was something extra peculiar.

 In a large rosewood cabinet was a collection of hand-crafted Voodoo dolls.

 Large ones made of cloth and straw with round button eyes and stitched mouths. Miniature ones made of wood. Several of them had pins with rounded ends stuck in various places.

 But the ones on the widest middle shelf were the most noticeable. They were small dolls made in the likeness of Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Niffty, Husk, and even an Alastor one. All the heads seemed to be bigger than the bodies.

How ironic that hands who had performed countless killings, were also so gentle and precise when it came to voodoo doll making.

“I’ll start with mine, as usual,” he said. He picked up the figure representing himself, complete with tuffs of his own red hair on its head, red clothing made of cloth over the body and red buttons for the eyes. The arms and legs were black stitched material, no designs on them. Branded on the back of the doll was a voodoo symbol of protection, ensuring that no one else could use the doll against him.

“At least I can always count on myself.”

Grinning, he put the doll back onto the miniature stage. He examined the Husk one sitting by the crafted bar.

“You really are a grumpy cat,” Alastor mentioned. “But, I’ll admit, you were still fun to make.”

The doll had a white face with black fluffy ends, red eyebrows, black buttons for eyes and a red bowtie. He had a slight frown on his face. The ears were made of cotton balls and a black hat sat on his head. Red wings had been sewn onto the back.

“Don’t get into too much trouble. I want you to be the puurfect person for that Hazbin Hotel.” He laughed and paced him back at the cardboard bar.

“Cute little darling Niffty,” he continued, examining the miniature doll with bright magenta hair and an attached fake yellow eyeball. The white shirt and pink skirt were there as well (though Alastor had left out the poodle design on the skirt).

“Keep being handy and we’ll get along dandy,” he said in a sing song voice before putting her back beside the cardboard chimney.

 “Oh Angel Dust,” he said with a roll of his eyes. He picked up the white doll, which had a small version of the white and pink outfit that Angel wore. He had a black bowtie, a head a little bit too football shaped, stitched smiling mouth and blue eye buttons.

“You get on my nerves, even in the process of making you,” he said. “I can’t even tell what those pink dots under your eyes are for. And your extra arms…they get all tangled everywhere. Well, at least you’re entertaining much of the time. You’ll have your purpose…and not of any sexual kind, good sir.”

He placed the Angel Dust doll on a web made of black string.

“Hello, naggy Vaggie,” Alastor commented as he observed the gray doll with long white string hair and a pink bow on the top. The white tank-top with the leggings were fastened onto the doll. One button was yellow while the other spot was painted with a pink x.

“Charlie’s best friend, yet different as night and day. No one likes a pessimist around, even in Hell. You got used to Hell, you can get used to anything. Even if it’s something unexpected in the future, perhaps?”

He placed her in her spot by a small paper lantern.

“Your pride is conssstricting isn’t it, Sir Pentious?”

He glanced up at a Sir Pentious doll wrapped up in black string upside down.

“You killjoys will fall again in the trench,” Alastor joked as he looked at a Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench doll stuffed into a hole in the wood.

“Cherri, you’re the bomb,” added Alastor to a doll with strawberry pink string hair and drawings of cherries on her clothes and fake eye. “Just try to control any explosive tempers you may have.”

 Finally, up on another shelf, he came to his favorite group of people: Charlie, Rosie, Mimzy, and of course, his dear mother. (Made with deer characteristics like his). The Charlie doll had blond strings for hair, and her face was painted white with the red blushes. From the black bowtie to the white shirt, leggings and shoes, this figure was almost like the real thing. Another Alastor figure was placed in the middle of the three women. Off to the side, a black deer figure representing his father had pins sticking through his chest, head, and crotch.

“Charlie, my charming demon belle, how will you fare in running your hotel?”

Charlie was placed in front of his figure.

“Darling Mimzy, lover of jazz, who are you behind the glamor and pizazz?”

The white-haired, pink-eyed Mimzy figure was to his left.

“A rose by any name is still a rose. We shall see how our collaboration goes.”

The tall Rosie figure with black eyes, and a pink hat and dress was off to the right.

And right behind the Alastor figure was the doll that resembled his mother.

Version one resembled her human form: light brown skin, thick hair, wearing a beautiful dress and holding a bowl of jambalaya in her hands. The second version was her with Alastor’s grayish skin, red hair, red eyes, and antlers, wearing a black dress with skulls and symbols embroidered on it.

“Ma mere…” (my mom)…

“Tu me manques beaucoup.” (I miss you very much.)

His mother’s words came back to him: “Al, my darling, always remember to smile. Keep your head up, leave any doubts and weakness behind.”

Still wearing his grin, he wiped away a stray tear of sadness.

“You’re right mom. I can’t feel insecure now. You sinned in your life…just so you could see me again…still can’t believe it. I won’t let you done and I won’t let myself down…”

He opened up a final section of the cabinet, this one revealing the dolls dressed like overlords. Vox with a pin through his TV head, Valentino with two pins through his straw chest, Velvet restrained in velvet cloth. Most noticeable of all was a cardboard throne standing up straight, but with a visible tear down the center. Lucifer and Lilith wearing white, sitting on the ground covered in necklace chains. A paper apple staff with the apple part detached and the long black part torn in half.

Alastor grinned at a third doll of him positioned on a throne made of antlers and bone.

“…Especially when I have grand plans set in motion. Hahahahahaha!”

[sweetboybucky]

Velvet

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Word Count: 1600

Warnings: One giant order of fluff with bearded Steve and a side of mild spice. Some swearing, because who can form coherent thoughts about this man. Not me. 

Summary: The softest, prettiest jacket for the softest, prettiest soldier. 

A/N: I know it’s been some time since I last posted, and for that I am very sorry. I’ve missed writing, and I’ve missed all of you even more, but writer’s block is a real bitch sometimes. I wasn’t sure when I would post another story - and then Chris wore that to the Oscars. So. Y’all can blame him for this one. And my lovely peach @tropicalcap, for fueling my thirst with those messages she sent me the night of the Oscars, but also for being lovely all the time. I adore you, Gigi. This one is for you. 

(And, I feel like I say this in every author’s note I write, but I’m gonna say it again - I cannot thank all of you enough for being so kind and patient with me these past few months. The start of 2019 was rough, but your kindness has made it a little easier to look forward to a positive rest of the year. I love all of you, with all my heart. I hope you enjoy this one.) 

My Masterlist

***

A noise, something quiet, something a few feet away, rouses you from that peaceful place of a half dream.

It brings awareness to your mind. A certain sense of urgency to your bones as soft footsteps move across the floor of the kitchen, the living room. Fall and still just in front of the couch where you rest, phone still propped awkwardly in your lap. Fingers brush against the knitted sleeve of your sweater. Over the apple of your cheek, into your hair.

Something between confusion and contentment settle heavy in your thoughts, a strangled sound rising from your throat and eyes cracking open a little, just a sliver. Enough to catch the night casting a curtain of black along your apartment. Enough to find that familiar shock of blond through it all, a fresh, scruffy beard and the most beautiful crystal blue.

The view settles the confusion - a memory of sending him off to get ready for Tony’s next big event after a blissful day in the quiet outskirts of New York, falling asleep trying to wait up for him to come home - and soothes that flare of mild annoyance at being woken up. It draws another note from you, sweet and just loud enough for him to hear. To tip his head down and chuckle, warm in the chill of late winter, light in the black of the night.

“Hi,” you murmur, a breath into the still air. Your hand reaches for him, clumsy in its movement but still finding its way to his handsome face. Landing on his cheek, stroking over the dark, short hair there.

He leans into your touch. Turns his head enough to kiss your cool skin, heating it under the gentle gesture. Fingers wrap around your wrist, his mouth moving against you as he answers, just as quiet, “Hey, gorgeous.”

You tip your face up, purse your lips in a sign you know he’ll be able to tell. And he does, laughter bubbling through his chest as he leans down to kiss you. Achingly tender. Tasting of sparkling champagne and the sweetest vanilla.

One little golden strand slips from the neat styling of his hair and falls onto his forehead as he sits back on his heels to look at you again. He looks impossibly beautiful, more charming than you think one man should be allowed to look with that fond smile the creases at the corners of his eyes.

A grin curls at your mouth, tired and small. You drop your hand in favor of tucking the blanket lying over your lap more firmly around you. “How was the fancy party?”

Steve’s resulting sight is drawn out and low. It’s answer enough to your sleepy question. But he speaks anyway, “Long and boring. The usual.”

“Don’t let Tony hear that,” you tease. Sit up a little more, rub at your eyes. You look at him from beneath your lashes, lean into his gentle touch as he reaches forward and strokes your hair. Pets that spot just behind your ear.

Your own hands reach forward to pull him closer, into the circle of your arms. They find the lapels of his soft jacket and -

You pause.

Open your eyes a little further, let the darkness give way to a better view of his silhouette, where he kneels on the floor beside the couch.

Dark dress shoes and dark slacks, tailored to a near perfect fit. A crisp, white under shirt and a black bowtie, crooked to the side just a little. Just enough to make your fingers itch to straighten it. But they still, a color that straddles the line between blue and green, muted and pretty and soft coming into view. You skim your hands along the fabric again, eyes narrowing.

“Is this -” you cut yourself off, trace the pretty material again. Lean over enough to flick on the lamp resting on the end table and drawing in a surprised gasp as you finally see Steve in all his beautiful glory before you.

“Is this,” you start again, one finger mapping an invisible pattern on his jacket, voice breathless as you continue, “Is this velvet?”

Steve looks down, face a little surprised but entirely too passive for the situation. “Yeah, it is.” And then his expression grows sly, one dark brow raising in a way that sparks a hot lick of fire to light in your heart - because he’s wearing a goddamn velvet suit jacket - as he adds, “What do you think?”

Eyes scan him up and down again. Your mouth grows dry, tongue wetting your lips, dumbstruck at the mere sight of him. That last bit of fatigue in your body gives way to something heady and overwhelming.

“You’re never allowed to wear anything else,” you tell him, voice low and trembling just a little. In any other instance, you might have the sense to be embarrassed about it. In the moment, you’re too focused on bunching the material in your fists, pulling him close.

He laughs, blissful. Completely aware of what he does. Completely too evil to care about the quickening of your breath, the rough beating of your frenzied heart.

“You think it looks good, sweetheart?” 

But you can’t explain - can’t even begin to tell him how beautiful he is. Always and now, especially, in that muted blue-green. With that crooked bowtie and sly smile. It sparks that heated flame under your skin into a roaring fire, tearing through every rational thought in your mind and only leaving behind those that begin and end with Steve.

You find your voice for him, somehow, and answer, “Good doesn’t even begin to cover it, Steve.” You grip those lapels again, rub your thumbs along them and tug again, “Jesus, fuck you look so handsome, get over here.” 

He follows you easily, pushing your body back against the couch. Settling into the cradle of your thighs, holding himself up with arms on either side of your shoulders.

He smiles down at you, bright and uninhibited. Hidden from prying eyes in the darkness of your tiny apartment. And you don’t think you’ve ever felt so lucky to be the one to draw that expression out of him.

“I’m glad you like it,” he whispers, words hot against your skin as he leans in, presses a lingering kiss there.

A groan slips through your lips, “God, you look gorgeous.” You pluck at one of the sleeves, give in to the need to keep your hands on him, caressing the plush fabric lining his body. “Who picked this out?”

“Pepper. Said it was a trend right now, or something.”

“Of course it was Pepper,” you grumble, because of course. Only she would be the one with enough sense to envision this look. To create your undoing with just one jacket and one crooked bowtie. “Remind me to send her one helluva thank you card.”

Something mischievous settles in his otherwise affectionate expression. “Didn’t know you would like it so much,” he says, resting his forehead against yours. Dark brows draw down and his voice grows low, husky, “Guess I’ve got something to use to my advantage, now.”

“Steven,” you bite, any heat behind it lost to the noise you make as he nips at your ear, the curve of your jaw. You push at his shoulders, let out a pitiful groan, “You are evil.”

“I know,” he chuckles, the sound bubbling from his mouth as he traces the line of your brow with the tip of his nose. He presses a kiss there a moment later, mouth trailing down the side of your face until he seals it over the seam of your lips, careful and slow.

Minutes bleed away that way, quiet and soft and sweet in the way they always seem to be with Steve. A gentle soul laid bare before you, finally comfortable enough to let go, even if just a little.

“I’m glad you’re home,” you find yourself saying. His hand strokes over your hair, settles at the side of your neck, and he kisses you again before you breathe, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too, baby.” And it’s so tender, so sincere, even as he leans down again to nip at your lip.

Rough hands slip beneath the thin layer of your sleep shirt. Trace the fluttering lines of your ribs and settle on heated, sensitive skin.

Velvet runs plush under your fingers, gives under your grip as you slip your arms around his shoulders, hold onto the back of his jacket. Tip your head to the side while he trails his mouth over the sweep of your neck. And suddenly it’s so much - the warm, heavy weight of him. The way he presses down just a little, just enough to feel it. The way he smirks against your mouth, swallows the ragged gasp that parts your lips.

You pull his face up with a hand settling among the short hair at the back of his head. Let your eyes trace over his figure one last time before asking, breathless, “You think Tony can make a new Cap suit out of this stuff?”

His laughter rings through the apartment, bright and loud and nearly as beautiful as he is before you, settling so easily into your life and home with his soft lips and softer jackets.

It tastes even sweeter as he leans down to steal another kiss, and another, answering your question and the thousands of others you have to ask with a silent, sure promise.

MAIN TAG LIST:

@solarbarnes II @akamaiden II @my-meant-to-find-blog II @marvelous-avengers II @jack4xx II @buckyforbreakfast II @theglowstickofdestiny II @bucky-at-bedtime II @notimetoblog II @deceivedeer II @teawithbucky II @veronicalei II @part-time-patronus II @thunderous-flower II @thelostverse II @delicatecapnerd II @pizzarollpatrol II @laurfangirl424 II @stevieboyharrington II @yknott81 II @bucky-smiles II @buckysb-tch II @a-watson-in-search-of-a-sherlock II @heartssick II @spxder-bxck II @bottled-starr II @buckybarneshairpullingkink II @yenneffersstuff II @fangirlfictionmain II @creideamhgradochas II @queenofstarliqht II @dessinemoiunehistoire II @ellaxiv