#where he almost drowned at the end of Ch2 was my only thought

[pixelatedraindrops]

Yuma Month: Day 30: Drowning

Falling deeper…deeper into the dark murky abyss…

[jimcornflake]

Ch2 - Mantis

A/N: This is my last blorp before I pass out. It’s 2am, I’m caffeine crashing so incredibly hard, and I need to sleep. But here’s my life’s work while I’m at it, so here you go.

🎀

It wasn’t before long that you managed to lose your entire purse, your phone, one of your contacts, and- oh yeah- all the people you came in with. Your eyes were heavy and cloudy, pupils blown wide. Your body felt like a wet spaghetti noodle as you stumbled past people.

“Can anybody find me water?” You asked the nearest group of people. They were familiar faces, but for some reason you couldn’t recall their names.

“Bathroom!” A boy in a white beanie told you and pointed behind you to the door to hallway off to the side.

You mumbled a thank you and urged your jelly-feet to carry you to the nearest bathroom sink so you could drown yourself in the faucet to get rid of the wicked cottonmouth that had set in.

The fluorescent lights that greeted you on the other side are less than pleasant. You cringed away from them, shielding your eyes with your hand. You stumbled around blindly till you felt a door and decide that it was the bathroom that you’d been looking for.

You pushed it open and uncovered your eyes to find that it wasn’t even close to a bathroom at all. There were no stalls, no air-dryers, no tampon-dispenser that hadn’t been touched since 1988; only a dirty red box in the middle of the room.

At first glance you thought it looked like dirt smeared across the bright, chipped paint. You blinked a few times and looked again and realized that it was closer to blood.

The box moved and you startled immediately. You almost ran out of the room and may have peed yourself only just a bit.

After waiting to see if it would move again and being met with stillness, you moved closer. You crouched down beside it where the old rusty locks were and undid them one by one.

“Hey, tiny. It’s okay, how’d you get in there?” You clicked your tongue and cooed.

As soon as the last latched had been slid open, the box burst open and you were tackled to the floor by a grimy man with wild, wide eyes. The air was knocked from your lungs, leaving your chest aching and tears pooling in your eyes and in that moment, all you could think was, why the fuck did I expect it to be an animal?

“Run! Run! Okay? You need to run!” The man panicked and dragged you up to your feet while you instinctually struggled and protested.

He threw you in to the hallway at the same time that the doors to the party burst open and people came stampeding through screaming something awful. He tried to stop them, yelling something about traps and getting caught while he grabbed on to people who only wanted to wriggle out of his grasp.

You soon saw why he was so desperate in his attempts. It all happened in seconds.

Razor wires caught on to ankles, blades swung down from the ceiling in to throats, sharpened stakes sprung out of the floor and impaled abdomens.

You’d never seen so much blood. You’d never seen the way skin can be sliced through so effortlessly as if it were paper. You’d never seen somebody’s brain fight to retain basic function of the body and you’d never seen the light leave the eyes of their limp body.

The shock was setting in. You felt like the blood running through your veins was ice cold and the static cloud around your eyes grew as did your progressively tunneling vision.

Suddenly the hallway was a hell-tunnel filled with dead, mangled bodies; some of which were half-alive and reaching out for your help; and at the end of that tunnel was the man you’d freed from the box.

He stood at the window, looking at the street that was a two-story drop down. He kept switching from the window to your face.

His eyes suddenly widened and he pointed, “Behind you!”

You felt a sudden mildly painful constriction around your arms and waist as you were lifted off the ground. You watched as the man gave himself a running start in to the window and fell to the ground with the shattered glass.

Now it was only you and the person who was grabbing you so tightly. You wiggled and kicked and finally got your arm free. You jerked it back as hard as you could and heard a grunt as the pressure was released and you fell to the ground.

You didn’t care to look back, you made a mad dash for the window to hopefully dive out and have your fall broken on that strange dirty man. You didn’t make it as in the next second you felt a sudden sharp pain in the back of your right thigh.

It stung and you stopped and trembled, shrieking through your teeth as your hands hovered uncertainly over the wound. You collapsed to your hands and knees as your shaking legs could hold you no longer.

You clenched your jaw and clasped your hands together so tightly that your bones were almost breaking under the pressure. You pressed your head against your forearms and tried to block out everything around you.

You felt a hand yank your head back by your hair and then a tiny prick in your neck. Your pain began to melt away slowly and you involuntarily relaxed. You grunted at the sharp pain and squelch that accompanied a blade being pulled out of your leg.

The last thing you knew before you completely surrender to unconsciousness was that you were picked up from the floor as if you were nothing more than a sack of potatoes and hauled back to the room with the red box.

🎀

Hi! Did you like this? If so, please check out my other works! Thank you and have a beautiful day! ����

[sillyguyhotline]

Song Analysis: “No Children” and Keiji Shinogi

It’s been awhile since I’ve done a song analysis, but recently I was listening to No Children by The Mountain Goats and I thought it was a very fitting song for Keiji (and by extension, capturing the dynamic of Keiji and Megumi). Throughout the song are very strong themes of clinging to one’s mental illness because it’s the only thing you know, refusing to get better out of spite, clinging to all your negative traits and behaviors because that’s just how you know yourself at this point. These are all very reminiscent of how Keiji acts; the shooting sent him into a downward spiral of self-hatred, but he’s continuously kept indulging in his terrible behaviors because he believes he doesn’t have the capacity to get better. 

“I hope that our few remaining friends Give up on trying to save us I hope we come out with a fail-safe plot To piss off the dumb few that forgave us.”

I think this pretty adequately encapsulates Keiji’s attitude towards life, because Sara in particular has certainly tried reaching out to help him throughout the game. However, almost every attempt is meant with an elaborate dodging of her questions, and on the off chance she does actually get him to open up about his life a little bit, it always ends with the hopeless conclusion that he can’t trust himself and he’s beyond fixing. It’s clear that at least some of the other participants care for him and want him to become better, but he refuses to let himself have the hope of becoming better. 

“I hope I lie And tell everyone you were a good wife And I hope you die I hope we both die”

This is where, I think, Megumi starts to come in. Obviously, she wasn’t his wife or anything, but she was still a very important mentor figure to him in the force and I think she still meant something to him, even after the shooting. In the ch2 main game, when Keiji is forced to confront the victim video, he panics at the reminder that he killed her (or at least was responsible for her death). He is the reason she’s dead, and I think a part of him is glad she’s dead, but there’s something in him that doesn’t quite want to let go of how meaningful her mentorship was. 

“I hope it stays dark forever I hope the worst isn't over”

This is a very Keiji-esque line. It’s easy for him to fall into this pattern of self destructive behaviors and hurting the people around him once he’s convinced himself that nothing is ever going to get better. He’s a murderer, he can’t trust himself, and life is easier if he gives in to that. As much as he hates himself, he’s found comfort in the stability of instability. 

“And I hope when you think of me years down the line You can't find one good thing to say And I'd hope that if I found the strength to walk out You'd stay the hell out of my way”

Here’s more of the Keiji and Megumi dynamic, the idea of indulging in these behaviors not just because it’s become normal but also because you know it hurts the people who made you resort to them in the first place. Megumi also seemed to care for Keiji, and as much as she was covering up the police force’s tracks by burying Mr. Policeman’s death, she was also looking out for Keiji. Mentorship goes both ways, after all. They also seemed to have a friendship of sorts outside of work; Keiji mentions in Island Existence that they used to go out to the bar after work and hang out together. It’s not all that unusual to assume that watching Keiji spiral into mental illness hurt her as well as hurting him. She can’t find anything good to say about him anymore, he’s lost everything that he was living for and she is burdened with the responsibility. And, eventually, he does walk out of the police force, only hoping that she’ll let him be free. 

“I am drowning There is no sign of land You are coming down with me Hand in unlovable hand”

And, here they are, as the first trial comes to a close and Megumi is torn apart by her own chains. Keiji has drowned in his self-loathing, resigned himself to a life of sin because it’s the only thing he believes he deserves, and he pulls Megumi along with him as he’s unable to press the button that she’s begging him to press. They are both sinful, unlovable, horrible people, and their sins are unmistakably intertwined. Megumi is haunted by the knowledge of what she did to Keiji up until her death, and then she joins the roster of blame that makes Keiji unable to move on.

(also hi @gingus-doon i wrote this on tumblr instead of texting it sorry lol)

[jennsmischievousmind]

Fucks not Found

Die Hard

Ch1 Ghosts | Ch2 Florence | Ch3 A Matter of Seconds | Ch4 I need a Backdoor | Ch5 Die Hard | Ch6 White Flag | Ch7 Haunt the Living | Ch8 One, but not done [end]

“I’m not mean, I’m brutally honest. Five you got any band-aids?”

“Here we go sarcasm, can’t you communicate like a normal person.” One turned to you

“He’s kidding me, right? you look at the others - You’re kidding me, you’re the master of sarcasm, prendila in culo da un ciuccio imbizzarrito!”

“And Italian now, see, no communication skills,”

“Stop bickering like an old couple!” Five argued 

“How many times do we have left?” Two asked Seven in the cockpit “About 3 hours.” She rolled her eyes.

“Green lantern sucks that’s all I’m saying,” You sat back, hands up defensively.

“Seven hold me back!” One feigned to stood up

“Ok you two, TIME OUT!” Five threatened you with her index, you mimed zipping your lips.

Two hours later you were finally on solid earth, you met up in a market to eat something and review details about the extraction. 

Three and Two were acting weird, when Seven implied something happened between them in Vegas, you carefully looked at Four. One intervened, you gulped, he could kick you out the team in a second. He asked them if it was a matter of love, or just sex. Two insisted it was only sex. One approved her answered. Four gently kicked your foot under the table in a reassuring gesture.

The night fell slowly on Asia's World City, you geared up for Murat’s extraction. The plan was to use the sky’s crane to go from building to building, gas masks for a grand entry on the main hall, and a zip line for extraction. You look at yourself in the mirror, wearing all black and suit up like a spy, you kinda liked it, damn you were far from Italy and your barista job.

Before that you met Four in his room.

“You be careful up there, okay!”

“Yes m’am,” he cockily smiled, while packing his abseiling equipment. “By the way .. about what One asked Two and Three...,” you let the question hanging.

Four’s lips closed in a thin line, his green eyes searching yours “We…,“ loud knocks on the door scared the shit out of you two, followed by Three’s voice telling Four to move his ass. 

 Your post was at the end of the zip line, laptop on top of a barrel, One was supposed to meet you there later to pick up the target.

Four and Seven on the cranes, Five in the lobby, Two and Three waiting for their go-to.

“Team set – Target set – it’s your call One.” You announced on the comm. You felt like a fucking MI:6 agent or something.

“Hit it, guys!” One spoke.

Five launched the laughing gas, Two and Three entered the lobby a minute later, heading for the lift.

“Five, I got a transmission, someone is calling the police from the security post!” you heard her groaned preceded by a loud bang.

“We’ve got 13 minutes from now!” She cursed , you launched a chrono on your laptop.  

Four secured the zip line on his side, One arrived to secure it not far from you. Murat’s bodyguards became agitated because of the crane overhanging the penthouse.

Two and Three were on their way up. While Four decided to take a dip to avoid the bodyguards. One ran to the other side of the building.

“Skinny dipping” you let out snorting.

Focusing on the chrono you realized 60 seconds had passed and Four was still underwater.

“One … have you ever seen Le Grand Bleu? Four ain’t the main role!” you stated with a warning tone.

“That’s a good movie.” Two intervened shortly

Seven insisted Four was going to drown, but One stayed radio silent. Biting your lip, you became agitated; until Seven took over and shoot in the pool glass near Four, allowing him to breathe through the bullet hole. You let out the breath you were holding; shit One what the fuck man, you thought!

Police Sirens were being heard in the distance, the bodyguards left the pool area, you gave Four the go-to.

“How you doing over there? You having fun yet?” One asked Four on the comm, whom was abseiling and installing high intensity speakers on the windows’ penthouse. “Anyone ever asked you dumb questions when you’re ninety stories up?”

You sighed “Don’t distract him please, he has already lost time,”

“Yeah mom” One sighed “You care way too much for the boy, Eight,”

“Mate, Four cut One, you’re really ruining my flow right now, you know that?”

Neither of you came up with a smart answer, fortunately One moved on pretty quickly. 

Time came for the second hit. One launched the audio in the speakers, the THX synthesized crescendo, you saw the glass shattered because of the high frequency. And then it was the 4th of July without the pretty colors. Gunshots were fired from the entire penthouse. At some point you wondered if from where you stood you could receive a bullet, so you curled up a bit behind your laptop and the barrel. 

Apart from Three being under nitrous, everything was going as planned. Four had the target in no time.

“Bad news, I got a lift with 3-armed douchebags coming up. And more guys that were on the floor below, coming up the stairs, also armed .. for whatever that’s worth.” Switching the view cams, you saw Two and Three stuck at the stairs.

“15 minutes, time’s out” Five called out.

“Shit, police are crowding in the lobby,” You look around for One for direct advice, but he was nowhere to be seen until you look above “One, what the hell are you doing on the crane!?” you asked over the comm. “That’s ..that’s high,” was all he said.

They were surrounded and Seven for the second time tonight ended up saving their ass, maybe he wasn’t that bad after all you thought. They obviously got so mad at Seven for exploding the pool and drowning the all penthouse, almost killing Two.

You heard some screaming, looking above your screen like a meerkat you saw Murat Alimov sliding down the zip line. You detached him at his arrival, but he started running away, leaving you wondering but seeing Three hot on his tail you understood, this latter tackled the target to the ground. You groaned flinging your arms up “And now you’re hitting him, really!?!” Two landed next to you, followed by One.

“Your toy boy is stupid” you grabbed Two’s carabiner

“Tell me about it.” She sighed, reloading her gun

“Can’t one of you stop this dumbass!?!” One pointed at Three still beating up Rovach’s brother

You both shrugged.

“You've picked this dumbass.” Two said

One excused Three’s behavior to Murat Alimov, he asked you to take him quickly to the elevator.

“Sir, this way” you held his arm urging him forward the lift.

“Come on Four. We’re moving,” One came running behind

“Just go, I can’t get across. They cut the zip line,”

You stop dead in your tracks, still holding Murat.

“Four ...,” your voice was low even though everyone could hear you in the comm.

You heard gun shots and Four cursed.

One stopped behind, talking to Four, you were processing your next move. Shoving Murat to Two, you grabbed the pearl handle-gun Three stole and ran the opposite direction.

“Hey that's mine chiquita!”

One swirled on himself seeing you run “We're not waiting for you just so you know.” One voice echoed; you heard the elevator’s door closing.

“Four what’s your location?” you asked while running.

“Eight, go!”

“Where the fuck are you?!”

He sighed “I’m going for the crane!”

“Meet you there,”

You arrived at the crane’s feet, hardly breathing, “Shit I need to work on my cardio,”

“Eight!” you heard from above, Four jumped down next to you.

“See, you got out!” you slapped his chest for worrying you. Voices from the crane distracted you.

“Run!”

Four started running followed by you, but it wasn’t just a run, it was full parkour shit and you had no choice but to follow him.

Soon your charger was empty, 2 guys were down, 1 got thrown over the edge by Four, meaning only 3 left.

“Why are we climbing!?” You yelled at Four as he started running up the ledge.

One of the assholes started throwing grenades at you, like it wasn’t enough. Then you look ahead, Four jumped on 4 pylons and turned to you.

“Shit, Shit, Shit!!”

“COME ON!” The adrenaline took over, your legs jumped, feet joining on the 5 square foot platforms on top of the pylons. Four got a hold on you when you reached him.

“Shit!” you let out nervous laugh. “I’m a newbie in parkour remember?” But immediately you felt trapped, the douchebags were shooting at you. Suddenly a loud explosion had you two look up, your eyes widened as a bunch of I-beams fell from the sky crane.

“WHOA!!” Four yelled, shoving you inside the pylons corner, shielding you with his body, you grabbed onto him as hard as you could, trying to shield him as well. You tried focusing on something else than the heavy metallic sound the I-beams were making. Directing your attention on Four’s deep voice cursing and breathing loudly.

Screwing your eyes shot, you felt Four’s arms tightening at each thunder like sound. All of sudden the rattles sounded far away, a white silence filling your ears except for your heavy breathing. Locking eyes with Four, he pressed his forehead on yours. “Let’s go,”.

You resumed your escape, climbing down the pylons, without being seen, calling out the squad to give your position. Four was leading the way, but a shadow caught your eye. Before you could say anything, Four had been ran into by the biggest bodyguard, propelling the both of them into the empty. You froze, an image of your brother dead at the wheel flashed in your mind - not again - Until you heard a loud bang and Four cried out, he was alive, you ran to the edge, and saw them like 6 stories under, on a net, fighting.

"No, no, no" you look around, trying to come up with something until you saw a rolled fire hose.

"Big Mclane energy" grabbing the hose you tied it up to your waist, not thinking any longer in fear your brain you’d stop you, you jumped. Screaming like hell on your down, until the hose came to an abrupt stop, the knot immediately untying under the pressure letting you free fall 2 meters. Slamming on the metal net, the shocked knocked your airway for a second.

You groaned "..Never again!" propelling yourself up with difficulty. The adrenaline kicking in you ran to the big guy, jumping on his back and tightening his neck. It didn’t last long till he threw you off him with one arm, going on with punching Four. Between Four’s grunts breaking your heart, you heard the team arguing on the comm’. Seven yelling he’ll not let the both of you behind. Crawling back to Four, the big guy pushed him over the edge, himself falling a bit backward, a gasp escaped your dry throat. Fortunately, Four’s foot got stuck in the orange plastic net, you no longer cared that the big guy was still there, you had to go for Four. The big guy was determined to catch Four to crush him himself. 

“GRAB MY HAND!” you extended your arm over the edge, facing the void, his left hand grazed yours, but a foreign hand slide around your neck.

“NO!!” Four yelled, writhing trying to reach the ledge. 

The fall had already knock out your lungs so it didn’t take long before your vision became fuzzy. As the guy chocked you, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your mind drifted to your brother, his warm hug before he got on that green car, his cheeky smile never leaving his face, his hand in yours at your mother’s grave.

“It’s only the two of us now.” A tear rolled down your face.

Sixth chapter White Flag

A/N: don’t forget to double tap if you liked it 🙏 

[frywen-bumbles]

The Way to a Man's Heart Goes Through His... Cat? Ch2

Days 6-7: Jaskier gets some unexpected messages and looks after house plants

AO3

Master of Music.

Jaskier loves the sound of it.

What he doesn't love is the half-empty document staring at him from his laptop screen.

'Historical Facts, Recent Myths, Current Connections: The Witchers in Historical and Contemporary Music'

He has all of his research material on hand. He has read through it. Several times. But writing the actual research down isn't happening.

Gods above how much he wishes he could just compose new songs and throw his brain out of the window. He doesn't even believe in any gods but if praying will help writing to happen he's willing to try.

Roach sits on top of the bookshelf, in one of her favourite places to... stare at him. And judge. Or maybe Jaskier feels like the cat is judging him. She hasn't warmed up to him during the first week at all, all she does is stare at him whatever he does but doesn't let him close enough to touch yet alone to brush.

"You know, Roachie if you won't let me touch you soon your owner will have to shave you naked when he returns."

Roach doesn't answer.

Of course, she won't answer. He must be going bonkers. Maybe a walk will help. He doesn't hold high hopes, everything is going shite anyway, what good could one walk do?

He snaps a quick silly selfie of himself and Roach and sends it to Roach's owner, like every day. It doesn't take long for the mark to turn blue to note the message has been seen. No answer, but at this point, Jaskier is not surprised. There has been no answer in the previous days, why break the tradition now? Some people just aren't made for small talk and Jaskier isn't going to force it. Not that he'd want to see the man. No, that would be ridiculous.

He gets lost in his thoughts, trying to figure out how to put together his thesis in some sort of coherent way as he walks to the nearby park. His phone buzzes in his pocket for a new message. He digs it out, not giving it much thought expecting to see a message from Essi or Pricilla. What he sees makes him almost drop his phone in his shock.

Cat dad answered? And with a photo?

A honk makes him realise he's standing in the middle of the road like an idiot and he crosses to the other side to reach the park. Only it feels like he doesn't need to have a walk anymore, this is more excitement than he's had in the entire week.

He opens the message.

A selfie with a blonde girl and a man stare back at him. He feels like his heart will stop.

"Essi?" Jaskier has to talk to someone. He knows he shouldn't, he promised absolute confidentiality. But he will burst if he doesn't talk about this to someone. He will absolutely without a doubt die.

"What is it, Buttercup?" Essi drawls like she has all the time in the world.

"Cat dad it insanely hot!"

"Whaaat? He texted back?"

"Yes! He's off the wall hot? I can't deal with this! How am I supposed to just sit working on his desk knowing what the man looks like? He will haunt my dreams, Essi!"

"Well, spill the tea! What does he look like?"

"You know I can't tell you, just know he's the hottest dude I have ever seen, okay? I can't deal with this. How am I supposed to write academic bullshite when his picture sits on my phone and I could just... look at it whenever I want to?

"Jaskier, for fucks sake. Your thesis is already a year late. You have been promised a place in the doctoral programme. If you keep sitting on your arse with this, instead of being the brightest student at the Uni, you will fail, understand? Get your shite together and stop falling in love with every person you happen to see."

"But, Essiiii... He's really hot!"

"I know, darling. Just keep it in your pants until you've finished with your thesis. Then I give you my permission to go chase the hot cat daddy."

"Melitele forbid, Essi, you're no fun. I wasn't going to chase him! I don't even know where he is. I just can't get over the hotness, okay?"

"Mm hmm, I know you too well. Get back to work or do I need to remind you why you took up pet sitting?"

"No. I'm sorry. I'll take a small walk and then get right back to writing, I promise."

Jaskier does not get back to writing.

He stares at the picture in his phone trying to figure out how a gorgeous man like that could have such an impersonal home. The man has his hair tied back in a messy bun, revealing an undercut which tells the milky white locks are natural. Jaskier didn't know he had a thing for blonds, but he sure as hell does now.

The girl's young, maybe around ten years old, Jaskier isn't sure. Kids aren't exactly his forte, all of his friends are still firmly stuck in their studies instead of having families of their own.

The picture had been taken by the girl, the grin wide on her face suggesting taking it had been her idea. But the soft smile the man has as he looks at the girl is melting Jaskier's heart.

If only someone would look at him like that he could die happy.

A crash from upstairs startles him enough to put down his phone and look at the time. Jaskier tries and fails not to fall into despair. He has wasted another day, not a single word written and how he wishes he could just throw up all of his ideas into coherent text but it is not happening.

He closes his laptop. It's no use. Going like this he'll never graduate.

Roach stares at him from the door, covered in dust and... definitely more dust.

"I'm a mess, aren't I, Roachie?"

Roach doesn't answer. Instead, she screams and runs downstairs, expecting him to follow like a good servant. His phone buzzes for a new message and Jaskier taps it open.

<Water the plants. Remember to brush the cactus.>

Remember to what the what now? He stares at the message, trying (and failing) to ignore the image above it.

"What the fuck?" he mutters to himself as he makes his way downstairs to stare at the house plants he has given no thought at all up to this point. On the windowsill in the kitchen is a lone cactus, right next to where Roach likes to sit and look to the yard. A cactus completely covered in cat hair and Roach is happy to provide how that particular thing happened. She jumps next to the plant and rubs her head against it, leaving even more hair on the spines.

"Brush the cactus. Okay then..."

<How do I brush a cactus?>

<What the fuck Jask?>

Jaskier snaps a picture of the cactus and sends it to the group chat with Essi and Pricilla.

<How do I get rid of the hair???>

He gets no response. ... appears on the screen several times before crying laughing emojis fill the screen.

<Thanks a bunch -.- >

He goes to dig through the cabinet where he found cat things and discovers a comb.

"That'll have to do," he sighs and gets to combing the cactus, careful not to harm it. In the end, the cactus comes unharmed from the endeavour but unfortunately, Jaskier doesn't. His palm is adorned with spines he spends a good five minutes plucking out with tweezers.

<If i die bc of a cactus related infection I'm blaming you>

<omg what did you do>

<Squeezed a ball of hair in my hand but it was filled with spines from the cactus>

<lmao>

<lmao???? I'm suffering and you're laughing??? Essi, Pris is being horrible>

<it is only what you deserve>

<OMG rude!>

<kissy face emoji>

Jaskier looks up from his phone when he hears water splashing. He doesn't even want to know what toy the cat has decided to drown now but if he doesn't hurry the whole kitchen will be filled with water.

Roach is happily playing with a toy mouse dunking it in her water bowl and tossing it around, spreading water everywhere.

"Roach, please? Could you just... not do that?" Jaskier begs as he fishes the mouse out of the water bowl and puts it to dry in a cabinet. "This may come as a surprise to you but I do not enjoy mopping the floors after you." He complains as he dutifully takes kitchen towels and dries the kitchen. At least it's better than the time Roach tucked the entire kitchen rug in the water bowl while he was out.

"You are a menace," Jaskier tells Roach after he has cleaned up everything. Roach meows.

Jaskier feels like he has barely fallen asleep when he wakes up. At first, he doesn't understand what woke him, but another yowl has him wide awake. What has him jumping out of the bed and run is the sound of pumping, like someone was trying to unclog a toilet.

"Roach you bastard, where are you? Please don't throw up on a carpet!!" Jaskier tries to find the cat based on the noise, stumbling in the dark. To his horror, the noise is coming from the second floor, where he was absolutely forbidden to go.

"Roaaaaach...!" he whines and makes his way up the stairs.

The view that awaits him when he flips the light on is totally unexpected. It is so unexpected Jaskier has to pinch himself to believe he's actually standing in a real room.

It is, and really the only way to describe it is every little girl's dream room. The room spans the entire second floor, ceiling low on the sides showing it was renovated from an attic, pinks, purples and blues adorning the furnishing.

And right on the middle of the white rug is the vomit.

"Fuck."

Jaskier collects the rug and carries it in the bathroom and spends an ungodly amount of time washing it, hoping against all the odds, the stain would leave.

It doesn't.

Come morning and Jaskier is sure it's all been a weird dream. Unfortunately for him, the stained rug awaits him in the bathroom when he goes to brush his teeth and he groans in frustration.

Roach meows at the closed door and scratches it until he lets her in so she can stare at him. Jaskier sighs and snaps a quick selfie, hair mussed and toothbrush still in his mouth and sends it. No need to prolong it, now he can hopefully focus on writing.

He's drinking his third cup of tea when his phone buzzes for a new message.

<Roach's hair is as messy as yours>

Jaskier stares at the message, sent from an unknown number.

<Who is this?>

<Youre looking after daddys cat>

<You're the girl! From the picture!> <I'm Julian but you can call me Jaskier> <Wait you shouldn't text strange men does your dad know you've texted me?>

<You're not strange you just told me your name> <I'm bored daddy went out with grandpa and im left with uncle> <Hes no fun> <I'm Fiona>

<Hello Fiona, it's nice to meet you>

Jaskier doesn't know what else he's supposed to say. How does one talk with children? Just like normal people? Right?

Wait!

Jaskier comes to a sudden realisation; now he has the perfect opportunity to ask cheat codes for Roach to get the cat to, well maybe not like him but to tolerate him.

<How do I brush Roach? She doesn't let me near her>

The screen fills with laughing emojis earning a sigh from Jaskier. No help then.

<Give her cheese> <Shes crazy about it but only gets it after shes brushed>

Of course, why hasn't he thought to give the cat cheese? Maybe because it doesn't make any sense. Who gives cat cheese when there are perfectly good cat treats available?

Nothing else about this makes any sense either and since writing isn't happening nor is Fiona texting anything else he makes his way to the fridge and digs out a block of cheese and cuts a piece.

Roach runs at him screaming. She thrills and screams and rubs herself against the drawer where all of her brushes are.

Roach doesn't purr when he combs through her fur, but feeding her bits of cheese every time she gets too annoyed helps and like a miracle Jaskier manages to brush a cat-sized pile of loose fur to show for his efforts. He gives Roach the last piece when he has finished and tries to pet her, but she sprints away from him with an annoyed meow.

Maybe Roach doesn't hate him as much as he thought after all.

[constantconfusion111]

Etched into your skin - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 below, thanks everyone for your likes/RT, you’re the best :) Link to AO3

Ch1 ; Ch2 ; Ch3 ; Ch4

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

“Aahh, the handsome young man is back. What a lucky girl I am.”

Type smiled kindly at Jeed. One week had gone by and he was indeed back in her bar. Mostly to relax and enjoy the end of a long week of Uni. Maybe a little bit because he wanted to hear Lhong’s band again.

“Hello P’Jeed, you look great tonight.”

“Handsome and charming, what a great mix. Where are your little friends?”

“At home, they’re finishing some assignments.”

Techno and Champ had slacked off on their anatomy’s paper all week, preferring lounging around and playing games with the other guys to the point of forgetting entirely about the paper. The only thing that saved them was when they actually saw Type submit his own assignment in. Anatomy and sports injury was a bitch of a subject, Type didn’t know why these two morons thought they could just wing it 10 minutes before the deadline. The result was them sacrificing their first night of freedom of the weekend to graphs and thick textbooks, whining and pouting all along. Well, Techno whined and pouted, Champ pretty much just grumbled and started to work right away.

In a burst of generosity, Type had thrown his notes on the table for them, reminding them kindly they would now be in his debt and they better remember it when he’ll need to collect it.

“Damn Type, signing a pact with the devil sounds less scary than this!”

Techno had still snatched the papers from the table and started to scan through them.

So here Type was, alone, in Jeed’s bar, ready to… relax. He ordered his usual drink, asked for some snacks and went to a small table in a corner, further away from the female consumers that were once again near the stage.

Just as he was looking around wondering where the band was, Type saw Lhong coming out of the bathroom. He raised his glass to catch the man’s attention, successfully making him stop by his corner.

“Hey dude, good to see you, where are the other guys?”

“Trying not to fail a paper.”

The singer snickered and grabbed some of the still untouched snacks.

“Glad at least one of you managed to come. Stay here and we’ll join you at the end of our set.”

Lhong jumped on stage, soon joined by the guitarist and bassist. But no trace of the drummer. Type glanced left and right, trying to catch sight of the man, unsuccessfully. The band didn’t seem to be waiting for him either and started to play at once.

Type eyebrows were furrowed during the whole set as he knocked down a first drink, soon followed by a second.

Why the fuck did that guy tell him to come back today if he wasn’t going to be here? Who does that? He could have just said ‘thank you’ and move on? If Type had come only for that guy, he’d be quite pissed right about now. But all is fine, he was here to enjoy the alcohol and atmosphere first, the band was just a part of the atmosphere. And the band sounded just a little bit less good without the drummer, just a little bit more boring. Whatever, he just needed more alcohol.

As soon as the band was finished and the clapping subdued, the three musicians joined his little table, pushing another one closer to bring more drinks for everyone, graciously bought by their fans of the evening.

“Did you enjoy it?” asked Song with a bright smile, the youngest and definitely most cheerful of their group.

“Mh, you guys are talented. Is the other guy not here tonight?”

“The other guy?” said Song, tilting his head at the question.

“You know, the drummer.”

“Aah! Phi was quite busy, he stayed at home.”

“Why?” came Lhong’s question, his eyes focusing razor sharp on him. “Interested?”

Type sneered and pushed one of the fuller glasses in the man’s face.

“Just drink, it’ll keep you from talking shit.”

It’s like he couldn’t be curious anymore.

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

What a week, and it was only Tuesday.

Classes had really picked up the pace and everyone was starting to slowly drown under the amount of work that, as if enchanted, kept piling up without ever disappearing.

Tharn needed all the boba Thailand had to offer. He knew his study group was already waiting for him at the library, but he needed something to wake up. He’d been sleeping poorly for weeks now and he was starting to feel the effect of it.

Saying he had made peace with the idea of Type not wanting to have anything to do with him would be an overstatement. Numb would probably be closer to the truth.

Even if he did manage to track him down, what would he say? Something like-

“Hey! Here you are, you quitter!”

Tharn almost choked on his sip in surprise. He turned around, uncertain if the voice was really calling out to him.

A man was walking toward him in swift strides, expression set in the most offended look Tharn had ever seen on another person. Tharn placed him easily enough as the man he’d briefly met at Jeed’s bar some 2 weeks ago. The guy was too pretty to be easily forgotten, he had had the fluffiest hair and the most expressive eyes.

He remembers how the man had watched him the whole time the band had been on stage, how intense his scrutiny had been.

Tharn had been just as surprised he’d taken notice. Usually, when he plays, he gets lost in his own world where everything feels better, a little less heavy. But he couldn’t have shaken the weight of that stare off his shoulder even if he’d wanted to.

Frankly, if circumstances had been different, if he wasn’t still trying to come to term with his soulmate situation, he would have definitely picked him up. Tharn was quite sure he would have been successful as well.

He was definitely too pretty for someone that scowled that hard.

However, at this specific moment, Tharn really wasn’t sure of what was going on.

“Pardon?”

The man was as attractive as he’d been at the bar, but had swapped his casual slacks for a blue football shirt and shorts exposing wide patches of tanned skin.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know. You told me to come back last Saturday to hear you play and then you didn’t even show up.”

Tharn had to search back to try and remember what he could have possibly said to deserve such anger. He’d said the guy should come back for their next performance.

“Mmh… the band did perform Saturday.”

“I know! But you wouldn’t, you weren’t there!”

Tharn raised both eyebrows, understanding slowly settling in. He would have definitely managed to pick the guy up.

“Was Nong sad because he missed me?”

Tharn would wish for a long time he’d filmed the footballer’s reaction. The next moments were full of sputtering and indignant looks, cheeks reddening and scowls deepening.

“Shut up! Who are you calling ‘Nong’, we’re the same age! And who missed you?!”

Tharn smiled around his straw.

“You look very angry for someone who didn’t miss me.”

“I’m not angry,” he hissed between his teeth. “I’m annoyed because you’re talking nonsense! And you didn’t respect your engagement the other night!”

That guy was a terrible liar. Tharn wondered if he at least believed in what he was saying or even he knew it was in vain. In any case, his reaction only made Tharn want to push his buttons some more.

“If I had known you were waiting for me, you could be sure I would have come.”

“Who said anything about waiting for you! If you give your word you should follow through, that’s all!”

Tharn hummed, sipping some more of his drink, staring at the man who was in turn looking down at his mouth at the mouvement. Pushing it, he liked his lips for good mesure, grinning as the other only seemed to frown harder.

“Well… You should come next time again. I promise I’ll be there.”

The man scoffed, crossing his arms on his chest. He had an air of someone that wasn’t really used to being pushed around. Which Tharn could imagine without too much problems. He was very good looking, that was a fact, but he was also tall and clearly in very good shape. There was an edge of aggression in his posture, daring anyone to just try and come after him to see what would happen.

“Ah! Fat chance! I’m not going to waste my time for you.”

“But how will you know if I keep my word this time around.”

“Why do I care?”

Tharn raised a single eyebrow, tilting his head slightly.

“Because… you just shouted at me for it right now.”

“... Whatever,” was the only answer he received, the man turning around swiftly to leave.

Tharn laughed, calling after him.

“See you soon! I’ll be waiting for you at P’Jeed’s!”

Tharn hurried back to the library, laughing to himself as he replayed the conversation in his head. He apologised to the other members of his group as soon as he arrived at their table and sat down on his seat next to Lhong.

“What took you so long, I started to worry.”

Tharn hummed while taking his laptop out of his bag.

“Nothing bad, just saw a guy on the way over here and stopped to talk for a minute.”

“A guy? Do I know him?” wondered the other man.

“Yeah, the hot one, he’s friends with Techno.”

Lhong seemed to think about it, looking at the ceiling until understanding dawned on him.

“Ah! You mean Type?”

And in an instant, Tharn’s whole world tilted from its axe.

[purrincess-chat]

Will You Be My (Fake) Lover CH2

I changed the title! It’s no longer Not Just a Friend, so don’t be confused. This is the fake dating AU which I feel like this title encapsulates more. I didn’t want anything too fancy or complicated, and I thank all of you for your lovely suggestions. I think I’m gonna make the chapters a bit longer and combine some ideas because I keep coming up with new ones for this fic, and I don’t want to drag it on too long chapter amount-wise, so I’m gonna try to keep it at 10, but it may end up being 11 or 12. I figure that’s cool beans with all of you.

Read on AO3

Chapter 2

“So, what’s the scoop? How did you two get together?” Alya asked, holding up her phone.

“Yes, how did you confess your feelings, Marinette?” Lila piped up, pacing down to join the group and crossing her arms over her chest.

“I-” Marinette started, but Adrien came to her rescue.

“Actually, I confessed to her,” Adrien corrected, and everyone gasped in delight.

“Dude, I didn’t know you were into Marinette.” Nino punched his arm.

“I only realized it myself recently. Around Heroes’ Day actually,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Marinette is always trying so hard to help everyone, and I realized at the picnic that I really admired her, but she’s so amazing I was a little nervous about telling her. Then when she got kicked out of school, I couldn’t bear to let my feelings go unsaid any longer, so I went by her house and told her.”

The class hung onto every word, their faces bright with intrigue and excitement, and even Marinette found herself getting lost in his words. She had to remind herself that this was all just a cover story and not real, but a girl could dream, couldn’t she?

“That’s so romantic!” Rose sighed, cupping her cheeks.

“We’re so happy for you two,” Mylene added.

“We can totally go on double dates now!” Alya said, taking Marinette’s hands excitedly.

“Well, congratulations, you two,” Lila said with a sly grin. “So, have you two kissed yet?”

“Kissed?” Marinette’s spine stiffened.

“Yeah. You aren’t a real couple until you’ve kissed,” she said, and Marinette felt her palms starting to sweat again.

“She’s right, ya know.” Mylene nodded, and several classmates echoed their agreement.

“Uh, well, we…” Marinette fumbled, cheeks hot, and Adrien gave her hand a squeeze.

“We haven’t kissed yet because we want it to be a special moment,” he piped up, and Marinette relaxed a little.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be shy.” Lila insisted, eyes baring into them tauntingly. “If you two are really a couple then kissing shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“I don’t think now is the best-” Adrien tried, but he was soon drowned out by the encouraging chants of their classmates.

He turned to Marinette with an apologetic wince, and they averted their gazes, cheeks pink as the chorus around them grew. Adrien’s eyes seemed to carry a hint of defeat, and Marinette recognized the telltale signs of insecurity in them that signaled his desire to back down. It was the same look he got whenever his bodyguard showed up to take him away from hangouts - the lack of will to fight.

Adrien didn’t like to cause trouble for others, and Lila knew that, her expression growing smugger with each passing moment of their hesitance. Her eyes seemed to read, “gotcha” as they shrank more and more under pressure, but as Adrien opened his mouth to call an end to their suffering, Marinette reached out and took his hand.

“Okay,” she said over the noise. “We’ll do it.”

“That’a girl!” Alya cheered.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Adrien asked softly.

“Yes. I’m sure,” she said with a reassuring smile, and he swallowed hard before placing a hand on her waist and leaning down.

Marinette stretched up to meet him, the whole class holding their breath in anticipation. It wasn’t exactly how she pictured her first kiss with Adrien, but his lips were gentle and uncertain as if asking for permission. Her lips tingled against his, and she could hardly believe that this was really happening. She could barely feel her feet on the floor anymore, and it only got worse when they both realized that they’d have to be a bit more convincing, leaning deeper into the kiss, prompting wolf whistles and cheers from their fellow classmates until they finally parted with rosy cheeks.

“Sorry,” Adrien mouthed as Nino wrapped an arm around his shoulders while the other boys patted him proudly, and the girls all crowded around her with similar praises.

“Well, I guess now we’re official,” she said, reaching for Adrien’s hand again.

“Good for you two,” Lila said through thinly veiled disdain that only Marinette and Adrien picked up on.

“Thanks,” Marinette shot back with equal venom.

“Good morning, class. Everyone find your seats,” Mlle. Bustier instructed upon entering the room.

Marinette gave Adrien a reassuring smile, and his gaze softened on her, conveying his gratitude for her help. She’d probably have to explain a lot to him later, but for now they were in the clear. That is, almost in the clear.

As Marinette moved to her seat, she found herself met with cold green eyes glaring from the top row, and in that moment, she knew she hadn’t heard the last of Lila.

***

“Okay, so we ran into a small hiccup, but I think it was a good start,” Adrien said that afternoon over tea.

“We’ll have to watch out for Lila. She’s so good at lying, she can see through anything,” Marinette said, tapping the side of her cup with her fingers, and Adrien nodded in agreement.

“Fortunately for us we’re such good friends that no one had a hard time believing we actually like each other. Even Alya and the girls were convinced you’ve had a crush on me,” Adrien said, flashing her a grin.

“Um, yeah, totally! We get along so well that it would be easy to read our interactions as romantic,” she stammered, tugging on one of her pigtails before taking a big gulp of tea and breathing a sigh of relief.

“Exactly, and since we both know Lila is a liar, we can look out for one another. I can make sure she doesn’t try anything suspicious with you again, Marinette,” he said, perking up a bit. “Ya know, I was really nervous about all of this, but you and I work so well together that I think we’ll be able to pull it off. I almost think we’d make a good real couple if we actually felt that way about each other.”

“Yeah, totally,” she said flatly, tracing the rim of her cup and averting her gaze to hide her disappointment.

“Thanks again for agreeing to do this. I know it’s a lot to ask, but you really saved me,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder with a warm smile. “Not having to pretend with Lila is a huge weight off my shoulders. I’m really in your debt, Marinette.”

“It’s no biggie. Anything for a friend,” she forced a smile, and Adrien’s phone buzzed.

“Gotta head to fencing. Thank again, Marinette.” He stooped to kiss her cheek with a wink. “See you tomorrow, girlfriend.”

“Yeah, see you.” She waved as he gathered his things and headed out the door before leaning against her fist with a sigh.

“What’s the matter, Marinette? You and Adrien are finally dating, shouldn’t you be happy?” Tikki piped up.

“That’s just it, Tikki. We’re not dating; it’s all just an act,” she sighed, swinging her legs around to the floor and heading up to her room where her photos smiled back at her mockingly. “This just confirms that Adrien really doesn’t see me as anything more than a friend.”

“Well, he picked you over Kagami. That has to mean something, right?” Tikki urged, but Marinette wasn’t convinced.

“He picked me because I know about Lila, so he wouldn’t have to explain why he couldn’t date her,” Marinette corrected, flopping onto her bed. “I have a feeling that this fake romance is the only romance I’ll ever get with him.”

“You don’t know that for sure. Maybe this will help him realize that he has feelings for you, and you’ll end up together for real!” Tikki said, spreading her arms out.

“Yeah, as if I could be so lucky,” she grumbled, reaching out to touch a photo on her corkboard, and Tikki deflated.

“If Adrien knew your true feelings, I’m sure he’d never ask you to go through with this if it hurts you,” she said, sinking down onto the pillow next to Marinette’s head. “Why don’t you tell him you can’t do it?”

“Because then he’ll have to date Lila, and I can’t let that happen. Adrien is desperate to stay away from her, and he’s come to me for help as a friend. I couldn’t say no,” she explained, face falling. “I can swallow my own feelings if it means that Adrien is happy. I’d do anything for him, even if it hurts.”

“Just be careful, Marinette. If you bury your feelings too much, it will only hurt worse later, and if you let your emotions get the better of you, then Hawkmoth could akumatize you.”

“Don’t worry, Tikki.” Marinette flashed her a smile, reaching up to brush her cheek. “I won’t ever let that happen again. Never again...”

***

Lila sat on the park bench, glaring ahead as children ran and played just a few meters away. Behind her, a silver car rolled to a stop, and her jaw clenched as she heard the window roll down.

“I thought you promised that I’d be the one dating Adrien,” she growled.

“Adrien has become more secretive and rebellious as of late, but don’t worry. I will take care of this frivolous romance of his,” Gabriel said calmly. “Things will be smoothed over soon enough then you can have your reward.”

As the window rolled up and the car pulled off, a sly grin curled on Lila’s lips as she glared over at the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Marinette wasn’t going to keep Adrien away from her. She had no clue who she was messing with.

***

“Your soup, monsieur.”

Adrien smiled up at his server politely before picking up his spoon, but to his surprise, the dining room door opened for his father. Back stiffening, he sat up straight, dropping his spoon and blinking to ensure he wasn’t dreaming. Although, considering the circumstances, he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. The room seemed to grow hotter in an instant, and Adrien swallowed as his father took his seat.

“Father-”

“Who gave you permission to see Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” Gabriel started coldly, and Adrien felt his stomach flip.

“I-”

“It wasn’t me or Nathalie, so who was it?” He pressed, and Adrien shifted his gaze to his lap.

“No one,” he mumbled.

“What was that?” Gabriel quirked a brow.

“I said no one,” Adrien spoke up. “Father, I just wanted-”

“I am the one who decides what is best for you,” Gabriel cut him off sharply. “You will stop seeing this girl at once.”

“But, Father-”

“End of discussion, Adrien. You have betrayed my trust, and I will not tolerate you disobeying me.” Adrien’s jaw clenched, his hands squeezing into fists.

“Why can’t I be with her?” He shot back, eyes watering.

“Because I said so-”

“What has she ever done to make you disapprove?” Adrien continued. “Marinette is smart and kind, and she’s always helping others.”

“That’s enough, Adrien!”

“She’s the best possible influence I could have!” Adrien said, voice rising in volume.

“That is not your decision to make,” Gabriel growled, and Adrien’s fists shook in his lap, air building inside his lungs until he couldn’t contain it anymore.

“I love her!” He shouted, slamming his fist on the table and Gabriel sat back with a stern glare. “I’m in love with her, so please don’t take her away.”

“If you felt this strongly about her, you should have come and talked to me,” Gabriel said, calmer now. “You went behind my back which is something I cannot forgive so easily, and if your outbursts are a result of your feelings for her then I forbid you from seeing her ever again.”

“Father, no!” Adrien pleaded, but Gabriel stood up, signaling the end of their conversation.

“I will have my dinner in my office,” he instructed Nathalie as he headed for the door. “See to it that Adrien practices his piano before bed.”

“Yes, sir,” Nathalie said, flicking her gaze over to Adrien whose head hung low.

“Is this what she would have wanted?” Gabriel froze at the door at Adrien’s voice, turning to face him. “Mom. Is this what she would have wanted?”

“She would have wanted what was best for you,” Gabriel said flatly, but Adrien met his gaze challengingly, causing Gabriel to quirk a brow.

“Even if it made me unhappy?” He asked, and Gabriel lowered his gaze, turning back to the door with a sigh. “What would you do in my position? If there was a way that you could be with Mom again, wouldn’t you take it?��

“I’d do anything to get your mother back,” he said, voice low and gravely, and he stood in silence for a moment before speaking again. “I will allow you to continue your relationship with Miss Dupain-Cheng if it really means so much to you. Nathalie will keep an eye on both of you.”

“Thank you, Father!” Adrien said, shoulders relaxing in relief.

Gabriel pursed his lips, staring ahead with a distant expression before nodding and pushing open the door. Adrien leaned back in his chair, breathing a sigh of relief before finally digging into his meal. That was close. Too close, but he was safe. For now.

***

Marinette was in her room when Adrien called, and she took a deep breath before answering.

“Hey, Adrien, what’s up?” She said in an attempt to sound casual though it came off stiffer than she’d like.

“Okay, so my father tried to intervene, but I convinced him to allow us to be together, so that’s good I guess,” he stated, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s not really letting up on my schedule very much, but Nathalie said you can come along and watch my photoshoots or practices if you want.”

Her heart skipped at the thought. This was everything she’d always wanted. An opportunity to be closer to Adrien and watch him while he worked, but she found it hard to be excited when she knew deep down that none of it was real. Maybe if she hoped hard enough then Tikki would be right about him falling for her in the end. She could wish anyway.

“That’s good to hear,” she replied with a smile.

“I did persuade Nathalie to pencil in a little time on Friday, so I can take you out on a date,” he said sounding satisfied with himself. “I think it will help solidify things publicly for us.”

“What if we posted on Instagram? That way a lot of people can see us,” she suggested.

“Good idea, Marinette!” Adrien praised. “Can you come over now?”

“Now as in right now?” Her eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. I’m just practicing my piano then I was going to work on homework,” he said, and Marinette bit her lip.

“Um, sure. I can come over now I guess,” she said, pursing her lips with a wince.

“Awesome! This will be the first time anyone has gotten to hang out here with my father’s permission.” He grinned, seeming excited, and Marinette’s face softened with a laugh.

“See you soon,” she said, and Adrien’s sunny disposition reminded her of why she’d agreed to this.

He’d seemed so anxious earlier that morning, but now he was totally relaxed. Even if he didn’t love her romantically, Adrien felt comfortable enough with her to go through with all of this, so that had to count for something. Her friendship meant a lot to him, so she’d always be there when he needed her. No matter what.

***

Lila glared down at her phone as she stalked up the sidewalk. Adrien and Marinette’s newest Instagram post told her that Gabriel hadn’t held up his end of the deal after all. Seeing them snuggled together as Adrien showed her how to play piano was so sickeningly sweet, she could barf. It seemed as though she needed to take matters into her own hands to expose their phony relationship. Not having Gabriel’s help did make that somewhat difficult, but Lila wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

“Good morning, Chloe!” Sabrina greeted off to Lila’s right as the girl in question climbed out of her limo and tossed her purse into her arms without glancing up from her phone. “How was your trip to London for your uncle’s birthday yesterday?”

“Ugh, so lame.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Do you have my homework?”

“Yes, Chloe. All finished and everything.” Sabrina presented it. “There is something I think you should know before you go inside…”

“Did Kim start wearing that awful cologne again?” Chloe gagged, nose wrinkling in disgust.

“Well, no-”

“Good. It gives me a headache.” Chloe massaged her temples. “Spit it out already. I don’t have all day.”

“Well, have you checked Instagram today?” Sabrina winced.

“This morning. I have 200 new followers,” Chloe said, fluffing her ponytail.

“Did you see Adrien’s newest post?” Sabrina asked as Chloe applied more lip gloss.

“No. I get notified every time Adrikins posts,” she said, smushing her lips together before closing her compact. “Why?”

“Well…yesterday he and Marinette announced that they’re dating, and-”

“They did what?” Chloe snapped, and Sabrina instinctively shrank. “Do my ears deceive me?”

“Yesterday at school while you were out, they came in holding hands, and then they kissed-”

“Dupain-Cheng kissed my Adrien? Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Chloe shouted.

“Well, Adrien posted a photo of the two of them on his Instagram last night, so I thought you’d seen it.” Sabrina winced, bowing apologetically.

“Ugh, this stupid app didn’t notify me!” Chloe growled down at her phone before gasping in realization. “Oh, no! I have that stupid wannabe blocked! That’s why it didn’t show me his post. Ugh! Dupain-Cheng thinks she’s so clever stealing Adrien out from under me while I’m away. She’s not going to get away with this!”

Lila ducked behind the column as Chloe stomped up the stairs, pursing her lips. Fate, as it would seem, just handed her a second chance, and perhaps she wouldn’t have to do anything after all.

[noonawriter]

Delicious Rendezvous Ch2

WORD COUNT: 4100 and some change

WARNINGS: kissing (same sex and opposite), sex (kinda rough but not really), biting, blood

DELICIOUS RENDEZVOUS

CHAPTER 2

“Shall we begin?” The central Councilor asked. Though it was phrased as a question, it was no such thing.

Heechul knew the rules inside and out, though, so he pretended it was one in order to say, “Let me summon my secretary.” When the Councilor’s eye twitched minutely, he knew he’d won. A small red spark shot up from his fingers; inside of a minute, the demon arrived at the vampire's side, still with half his hair pulled back into a ponytail, strangely unmussed. “I name Donghae-” Heechul gestured in his direction with an open, upturned hand, an old tradition to show a lack of weapon or artifact held at the ready, “-my secretary for this session.”

The Councilor folded his hands together, his flat expression somehow still skeptical. “He brought no writing instruments.”

“He has a great memory,” Heechul lied. Then knocking against the gate of his mind, he heard a voice. Who’s supposed to be the brainless idiot this old guy is complaining about? And why do all three of them think so loud? I want pizza too, but you don’t hear me whining about it. When these mean assholes get stuck in traffic later, they'll deserve it.

After a moment of being startled, he realized it was her voice - the nameless woman several rooms down. He scanned the Councilors. No sign that they’d heard anything. Heechul’s shoulders, arms, thighs, every muscle in his body stiffened in shock.

It was then that he realized all at once what she was: Untrained. Untamed. And very, very dangerous.

Not only a connection of such strength and focus, made without knowing it, but she was... Oh god, they can’t know about this. None of them can know about this! Hastily, Heechul schooled his expression. Without even realizing it, she was doing something he’d never seen nor heard of. She was reading the Council.

“Enough of this insolence!” The central Councilor roared. “You have long pleaded for an audience. Courier after courier, day. After. Day. You have it now; do not waste our time further.”

The outburst was strangely reassuring, as it contained no hint that they’d detected the reading of their thoughts and futures. That gave Heechul the strength to go on. And the will. Because if he didn’t- If the formless destruction he foresaw came to pass...

He couldn’t bear the thought.

"Very well, I’ll get right to the point,” he said, placing his hands on the desk, spreading his fingers wide, steadying against the feeling squeezing his chest that was all too much like a tightrope wobbling beneath his feet. “Something is coming.” He leaned forward. “It will not only turn our community upside down, but may well be the end of the world as we know it. I- We can't let that happen."

The spurned Councilor from earlier cut in without the necessary request. "And do you offer any evidence for such a farfetched claim?" He sneered. "Or do you just have a baaaad feeeeling?" He finished mockingly.

God, this jackass again, Heechul thought, barely keeping himself from saying so out loud. Happy to doom us all just because he doesn't get to fuck whoever he feels like.

With his attempt disastrously rebuffed, the remaining formalities of the meeting were both disorientingly short and endlessly long. Two minutes in a flash that also went on forever.

Just as Heechul had thought it was over, the very thing he dreaded happened. He didn't know what precisely had been shot in their direction; a second's warning was all he had, and it was all he needed. Immediately, his hand shot out to grab one of Donghae's muscular biceps, pulling hard on his energy reserve to put up a quick burst shield strong enough to dissipate it. Hopefully.

If it was from anyone in the audience, or only a casual shot from a Councilor, it would hold. If not...

His shoulders slumped in relief. It held. He could tell because he was here rather than being burned to a crisp.

"What a pity," he heard faintly in the voice of the Councilor who had apparently decided to become his nemesis, right before the high-pitched shriek of wind that signaled his leaving.

Turning around, Heechul found the room empty. He nearly dropped to the floor, grateful for the ordeal to be over. Fucking Claude, he thought with no small amount of resentment. In his grasp, he could feel Donghae trembling faintly, so Heechul steeled himself to look more steady than he felt and turned to the demon.

"Good boy," he said, patting Donghae's cheek. His demon looked a little sallow. "Oh, I bet you're hungry after all that, aren't you."

"Yeah," Donghae replied in a near-monotone, though his eyes regained a bit of their usual shine at the words.

Because he knew what needed to be done, Heechul told him, as he released Donghae's arm, "Let me indulge for a moment, hmm?" After a split-second magic scan confirming the room was indeed empty, he took Donghae's face into his hands, cradling his jaw, then slipped his tongue into the demon's mouth, clearing his mind of all but the pure physical sensation, the sheer pleasure of their tongues sliding against each other's edges, their lips slipping together, every nerve ending that lit up to hum in decadent enjoyment. Only a few seconds of that before he pulled away. "Feeling better?"

Before him, Donghae beamed, his complexion restored to its usual smoothness, too. "Much better."

"Good." Heechul ruffled the demon's hair. "Run along, now. I've got a date with a pretty little witch." Not to mention, Heechul thought, all the more reason to watch my back after that stunt. With a sigh, he brushed imaginary dust off his clothes, straightened his collar, and headed to the endless night's next task.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No sooner than he’d crossed the threshold of the cozy quarters did you launch into a tirade.

“What was all that about a formal claim?!” You’d waited for who knows how long, stuck in this room because who knows what else is out there, and all you’d had was the bowl of stew the confused-looking, very tall butler brought you. After the day you’d had, you were at your limit of patience.

But the vampire - Heechul, that’s what the unnervingly handsome man from earlier had called the leader - only waved your objection away with an infuriatingly causal but dramatic flourish of his hand. He raised his eyebrow. “We’ve barely known each other for, what, two hours? I’m not about to go that far.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “That's not what I meant and you know it.”

He stared you down, but you weren’t about to budge. “Rudeness aside,” he drawled, “what brought you to me in such bad shape?” 

In that moment, your heart dropped to your feet. “I… can’t tell you that.” No matter the horrible things he’d said to you or terrifying things you’d just witnessed, you couldn’t put him in danger. You couldn’t allow someone else to suffer because of you.

Surprisingly, Heechul only smiled indulgently. “Yes, yes, just about everyone here answers the same way.” With a world-weary sigh, he continued. “Very well. You need my protection, don’t you?”

Even without knowing any of the situation, he’d hit the nail on the head. “...I do.” The admission made you shrink in on yourself. You’d never imagined you’d have to ask anyone for such a thing, but after last week-

No. You couldn’t think about that. Not now. Not unless you wanted to fall apart. And you were close. Dangerously so. Showing up at Delicious Rendezvous was the only saving grace you could think of on the fly. Its reputation drew you there. Strength resided within its walls; your soul knew, somehow, that you would be taken in. So, no, you weren’t going to fall apart now. That would be a terrible idea while asking for help.

“Then, given…” He looked meaningfully towards the door, presumably in the direction of where the mysterious meeting you’d been politely kicked out of had been held. “Given all that you’re facing, I can offer you temporary protection. A barrier that can repel most magic I don’t allow.” He stepped closer. “It’s not foolproof, as no shield is, and it cares nothing for the intent of the caster, mind you.” His lips forming the words were distracting, even more so than his unaffected, haughty stare. “But it will last three full moons, not a sunrise more.” Heechul brought his folded hand up, examining his nails. The tension in his brow made his nonchalance look strained. “Be that as it may, there are only two options for how to go about this.”

The way he delivered the lead up to his solution was almost hesitant. But if he was going to be insufferable about everything, you might’ve been better off taking your chances with your own skills. You sigh, knowing that you have to agree to one or the other. “Spit it out already.”

His gaze locked with yours; the corner of his mouth curled up in an all-too-enticing smirk, leaving you with the distinct impression that he was trying to toy with you. Drowning in gold, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. If he was using his powers to enchant you, it nonetheless felt as though he’d cast nothing at all. “Blood magic or sex magic. I’d say dealer’s choice, but you have to be willing for one or the other. It won’t work any other way.”

“Wait, but what about-” You started, mind going in a million different directions at once. Knowing good and well that blood magic was a life or death type of ritual. Sex magic was a different ghost of its own. While you weren’t extremely versed in this form of ritual, you knew enough to understand that both parties had to finish and it had to mean something. 

He cut you off by saying, “You don’t have to worry, sweetheart.” As though he’d read your mind, he continued, “Vampires are made, not born.”

Absently nodding, you did what you always do when you get nervous - you bit your bottom lip, nibbling anxiously on the plump muscle. Couldn’t help it. Your eyes scanned the room as you searched for a place to walk away; anywhere to be away from his intoxicating presence. Yet, you couldn’t find it in your being to go anywhere that could get you far enough to make that happen. In the process of scanning the room once more, your eyes landed on his back as he stood at a countertop rifling through an ornate box, its very shape captivating.

“Have you made a decision?” He seemed to know you were about to speak. Without turning around, he nonetheless continued without waiting for an answer, “I’ll need to set up either way. Should you choose blood magic, I need to contact my healer so he’s on standby.”

You blanched at the thought. There would be no knives involved tonight. Taking a deep breath and steeling your nearly set mind, you spoke the words breathily: “Sex magic.” You saw him perk up at your decision. “Please. I don’t know if I can handle blood right now.” Heechul turned around and your stomach tightened at the sight of his face. If you could describe it in one word, it would be desire.

He took a deep breath in through his nose, shutting his eyes and rolling his shoulders back. “Wonderful choice,” he said as if savoring every syllable; the lust-filled tone of his voice sent shivers down your spine. He stood before you, taking your face into his hands, gently cradling it. “Keep in mind, both of us have to cum and it has to mean something. Doesn’t have to be love, but can’t be just to get off either. Make sense?” His eyes bore into yours, desperate to make sure you understood just what was at stake.

You nodded small, eyes wide. You couldn’t help but wonder just how this was going to work. Mind reeling, you felt his fingertips at your waist. A small gasp escaped your lips as you were drawn back into the present moment. The look on his face told you this wouldn’t be any plain sex. 

“You have to communicate with me. If it feels bad, if it feels good.” He began to guide you backwards to the overstuffed settee. “Sit here for a moment. I need to gather some components, and you need to relax. Have a drink.” He brought up a single finger, still with that devilish smirk plastered across his face, his gaze focused solely on you in a way that shouldn’t be so thrilling. “Only one, though - I need you sober enough for this to work.” The glint in his eyes made it clear that he’s excited, though the stiffness nearly hidden in the movement of his body said differently. He moved a curtain to the side and disappeared to an adjacent room as you helped yourself to the bar.

One whiskey sour later, you heard Heechul calling for you. You tipped the glass up and went to find him. Patchouli scents the air as you cross into a bedroom you didn’t know existed. He was standing to the side, one eyebrow cocked up as he watched you walk in. He wasn’t just pretty, as you had originally mused. Truth be told, he was otherworldly and vaguely threatening and you had never been more turned on in your life.

His suit jacket lay across the dresser next to the curtain-drawn entry. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, giving you a glimpse of a smooth, toned chest. His sleeves were rolled up, showing a hint of a tattoo on one arm. His wide-legged stance was commanding, inviting. You found yourself wanting to wrap your arms around him and kiss the smirk away, but you held off, though it wasn’t easy in the slightest.

Heechul cleared his throat, crossing the room in two strides; invading your space. In a heartbeat, his arms were wrapping around your waist and drawing you close. Foreheads almost touching, you could feel the warm breath coming from his parted lips. His eyes searched for any signs of uncertainty. When he found none, all traces of it burned away from within you, his lips brushed against yours and you swear the spark you felt could jumpstart anyone’s heart. 

You gasped and he chuckled, deep and throaty. Easy as anything, he spun you around so your back was against his chest. “A few things first,” his lips brush the shell of your ear, “mainly, I need your verbal consent. Say it like you mean it.” He walked you towards the bed, hands tightly gripping your hips.

“I want you to fuck me, Heechul.” You tried to sound loud and strong, but his lips worked down your neck and found their home over your collarbone, where he began to suck deeply, bending your voice in the process. “Fuuu...” You whined, feeling a wetness in your panties.

He growled at the sounds he was drawing from you. “Mean it, princess.” His right hand found the waistband of your leggings, pulling it out and allowing it to snap back into place. Your body jerked into him and he made sure you felt the outline of his hardness. “You have to mean it.” His wandering hand dips into your bottoms, fingers searching for your wetness. “Say it.”

“Fuck me, please,” you moaned as his fingers hit your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles. Combined with the subtle motions of him grinding on you from behind, your mind was in a haze and you didn’t want to come out of it. It’s delicious. It’s addictive. Heechul knew what he was doing and dammit if you don’t want to ever stop. Your free hand reached back to slide into his hair, threading through his luxurious locks. Like a reflex, you pulled on his hair when he hit a certain spot. He bit down on your earlobe in kind.

“Clothes off. Now.” Domineering words got you clenching around nothing and moving faster than you expected to in your lust-filled state. Once your top was gone, you felt cool fingertips working to free you of your bra. You watched as the offending garment flew across the room. One second passed, then his hands were cupping your breasts, kneading and tugging. His dulcet tones guided you as he worked you into a frenzy. “Bottoms now, sweetheart.”

You pulled away, albeit hesitantly. His ministrations had your nipples harder than they’d ever been. “Not fair,” you whined when you realized he was still fully clothed. He smirked wickedly in your direction, hands slowly moving to undo buttons one at a time. “I’m naked and you’re nowhere close.” You roll your eyes and saunter up to him, your bodies achingly close, taking over the task.

Heechul’s eyes widened at your boldness - gone was the timid little witch from before. He saw the desire radiating from behind your eyes. It was as though another person had taken over, making him harder than he was; you could feel the twitch and press of it against you, irresistible, leading you to press even closer. His eyes looked to the ceiling and then shut tightly as a sigh crossed his lips as your fingers traced the outline of his abs. He could feel your hands as they tried to quickly rid him of the belt and unzip his trousers. Sensing your frustration, he looked down and grasped your hands, moving them away from his body softly but insistently.

“I’ve got it. Just lie back.” He leaned in for a deep kiss, tongue sweeping across your lips, begging for entrance. Impatient, you granted it eagerly, trying to wrap yourself around him. But Heechul had other ideas. His hands gently pushed you back onto the bed, and he let out a dark chuckle as you bounced back. After he finally made quick work of his remaining clothing, he crawled to settle himself over you. 

His hardness was nestled between your thighs just out of reach of where you wanted him to be. You rutted against his hips, aching for some sort of friction. “Nope. We’re not gonna do that. Don’t be so needy.” His patronizing tone made you flush with embarrassment. Your hand began to sneak down to your core to get some much needed relief; before you could get there, he caught your hands, both the wandering one and the other, bringing them over your head and pinning them there with his own. “Be patient. Good girls get rewarded.” The look in his eyes begged you to test him. The grind of his hips gave away that it wouldn’t be much longer. 

“Trust me?” His sly question caught you off guard. Your eyes grew round as you felt a thick cord wrap around your wrists. You wanted to cry out, or to resist. You didn’t, though. Whatever the reason for that, in the next instant, he slipped inside you with no resistance. You gasped at how easily he slid in. “Good girl. Taking it all. I knew you’d be ready for me,” he groaned into your ear.

You didn’t even want to pull at your bindings because it all felt better than you could have ever imagined. Heechul was filling you up better than anyone ever had. “Fu...” was all you could manage as he began to test the waters. His thrusts sped up slightly. One of his hands found your throbbing bud and began to work you over. You were babbling. You writhed against him, utterly helpless beneath an onslaught of sensation. 

He pistoned his hips, finding that one spot that had you seeing stars. You knew he had to be able to feel you clench and know you’re close. He continued his brutal pace; you whimpered, long past any embarrassment about it. “You’re close, I can feel it.” He gritted his teeth. “Look at me.” You couldn’t help but obey his command. His eyes seemed different right now, still primal, but with a sort of protective determination behind them. The next words he spoke bore that out. “Hear this. I will protect you. You have my word. I don’t give that lightly.”

It couldn't be clearer that he meant it. You believed him, and the feeling of something formed in the instant you realized that - something powerful that intertwined the two of you in a place far beyond words.

However, a moment later, he blinked and his irises changed colors. A deep red hue shined through; though it frightened you, deep in your soul, you knew he wasn’t going to hurt you.

Then he grunted, the sound frustrated. Its faint echo reverberated in your chest.

“I’m sorry,” Heechul said, the meager syllables painted in something like desperation. “I know you said no blood. I tried to avoid it, but we don't have- We barely-” Panting, he cut himself off, ducked his head to rest on yours for a moment. “It's not going to work otherwise. I can feel it. It... It'll help me protect you. Please.” He whispered his plea into your ear, so softly it was almost inaudible.

You can kind of feel it, too. How the bond is incomplete, how you’re reaching towards it but can’t quite make both ends join.

“How bad will it hurt?” You asked, trying not to sound scared.

“For about a second, bad,” he admitted. “But it feels fantastic after that.” After he pulled back, his lips met yours firmly, though gently. “I’m asking you to trust me one more time. Or say the word and we can stop right now.”

The very notion was unbearable. You bucked your hips up towards him with as much leverage as you could manage in your current position, showing as well as telling him, “Don’t stop! Fucking do it, finish this.” Even if your words sounded more desperate than you’d wanted to let on, hovering on the edge, every bit of your body straining up to meet his. “I’m ready,” you breathed, hoping it was enough.

Before his eyes blazed in hunger, you could’ve sworn you saw them gentle for a moment. But if it’d ever been there, it was gone by the time his lips dragged a pleasurable path along your jaw, then down, down, down.

He stopped at your heaving breasts, nuzzling and licking. The pressure of his canines against your nipples sent your body into overdrive. His eyes meet yours one more time as his hips pick up their tempo. You see it in his eyes, the genuine meaning behind this ritual. He snapped into you harshly, finding your sweet spot over and over. One hand rubbing deliberate circles on your throbbing nub as he brought you closer and closer to finishing.

He bit down. 

Stabbing pain, here then gone. A euphoric feeling soared through your veins. White light danced behind your eyes as you came hard. Your back arched more than it ever had, and you barely noticed the stutter in his hips when he came.

For a moment, you lost your breath. He gently suckled at the bite mark on your breast, tongue laving over the marks and cleaning you up. When he looked up at you with what must’ve been a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, the tip of his tongue caressing the closing wound, something mysterious hidden in his expression nonetheless left your heart feeling warm and full.

Before the two of you could come down from your high, you noticed a thick golden cord linking around your right wrist and his left. It glowed intensely, hot against your skin. You hissed in response to the pain, but Heechul quickly hushed you with a kiss to the bite mark he’d left behind. The spellwork joining you tightened, then seeped into your skin, his following immediately after. Your eyes went wide, but neither of you bothered to say anything. Couldn’t, maybe, for a small stretch of time that felt too momentous for it.

In the silence permeating the room, you felt the seal before he acknowledged it. Strong, safe, those were the closest words to how it felt, a layer over you but also nothing at all, somehow in you but not quite that, either. Carrying something without it having any weight.

Brushing up against your mind was something you could’ve sworn was Heechul’s smile, his expression hidden from view against your skin. Your magic surged up to tug on it hard, wanting to wrap yourself up in him and never leave.

_______________________________________________________________

Author’s note: Again, a huge thanks goes out to @thesirenandtheking​ for his amazing collaboration skills and editing. I wouldn’t be able to post this goodness without his expertise.

[spideyy-girl]

Training ~ Richie Tozier

Requested by anon: Hey, first of all, LOVED the Richie imagine and I love the fact that you write for The Umbrella Academy. My sister likes MCR and got me into that show and I love it! Anyways, I’d like to request a Richie x Reader with 9, and 21 I think? It’s: “I hate you” “Love you too, darling” and: “Sometimes I wonder how I fell in love with you” Or something. Anyways, thank you love!

9: “sometimes I wonder how I fell in love with you”

28: “I hate you” “love you too, darling”

Summary: Richie wants to play at the arcade but Y/N wants to sleep in and some things are said.

Fandom: IT (2017)

Warnings: lots of swearing (this IS a Richie fic), love confession, cringey writing

Word Count: 1984 (5.3 pages)

Date: May 10, 2019

A/N: Ok this took way too long, and I am so so sorry about that. I was having major writing block but I’m feeling back on my game again now. Also, the new IT Ch2 trailer has me sCrEaMiNg.

Y/N laid on her stomach in her bed, head borrowed into her pillows as soft snores left the girls slightly open mouth, a small wet spot of drool forming on her pillow. The sun shone brightly through her large window beside her bed, birds chirping loudly on the branches just outside her window, yet she slept on. Today was the first day summer vacation, and the teenage girl was more than happy to sleep in until past noon like she currently was.

Well, that was the original plan. But suddenly she feels cold water crashing down onto her mess of hair and down her back, startling the girl awake as she sits up straight in her bed. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes to see what caused the chaos, only to see one of her closest friends, Richie Tozier, standing at the side of her bed, a wide smirk on his face as he holds back his laughter.

"What the fuck, Richard?" She almost screams as she quickly throws the covers off of her and getting out of her bed. At this point, Richie's smirk had only grown wider, putting the now empty glass on her bedside table and leaning against the wall, pushing op his glasses as he examined her.

"You weren't answering my calls," said Richie simply, shrugging his shoulder. "So I thought I might pay you a visit to see what was so important to be ignoring your favourite person in the world." He smiled at her as she stopped and just stared at him in disbelief. After glaring at him for a few seconds, she shook her head and went over to her closet to find something to wear that wasn't completely soaked. 

"How the hell did you even get in here?" She asked as she pulled out a shirt and signalled for the boy to turn around sh=o she could change, which he did after some silent arguing. 

"Easy. You hide a key under the mat in front of your house," he says, still facing the wall. "You should probably move that to a safer place, you know. That's like the most simple place to keep a spare key."

"Just shut up," Y/N said as she turned Richie around to face her again once she changed into a new outfit that didn't consist of fuzzy pyjama pants. "What do you want?"

"Training starts today!" He says, hitting her shoulder and looking at her like she was dumb. The look was given right back to him as she sighs and walks out of her room and downstairs, Richie following close behind.

"What the fuck are you even talking about?" She asks as she goes into the kitchen and takes out two bowls and starts pouring cereal into both of them. "You woke me up over this bullshit? What do you mean by training?" She pours in the milk and grabs two spoons, putting one in each bowl and handing the cereal to Richie, who gladly accepted it and started chomping down.

"Street Fighter, duh," he says as he chews on his cereal. Y/N grabs his free hand and puts it in front of his mouth, telling him to "cover up your mouth, that's disgusting." to which Richie only rolled his eyes back as a response, but kept his hand held up. "C'mon, Y/N. I told you about this literally yesterday. You said you'd come to the ar ade with me cause the guys are ditching me!"

Y/N groans as she slams down her bowl of cereal, some of the milk splashing out of the little bowl. "Rich, it's the first day of summer! I was supposed to sleep the entire day away. You know my sleeping schedule has been shit for months."

Richie looked down, starting to feel bad for waking her up. It was true, ever since the kids in Derry started disappearing, starting with one of their best friends little brothers, Y/N hasn't been able to get out of her head. She has told him that she was getting usually less than 3 hours of sleep per night, and it only got worse from there. Richie sighed, and looked back up, making eye contact with her beautiful Y/E/C orbs. 

"Alright, let's crack a deal then," he says, his voice sounding not so cocky anymore. "We go to the arcade, and you battle me on Street Fighter. And if you manage to beat me, we'll go home and sleep for the rest of the day."

"Richie, that's so unfair!" she says, throwing her arms up before putting them back down to her sides. "You know I'm shit at Street Fighter! I'm shit at all video games!" He smiled at her, grabbing her hand and dragging her out the door.

"Yeah, trust me I know," he says as he goes to grab her bike for her and hands it off to her as he gets on his own. "And that is exactly why we need to do some training! You'll be the best Street Fighter out there by the end of the summer!" Y/N groans as she gets on her own bike, buckling her helmet.

"You know what Richie, I hate you," she says as the pair starts peddling off the driveway and onto the street, making their way to the arcade. Richie looks over to the girl he's known for as long as he can remember and smiles at the all too familiar phrase.

"Love you too, darling," he replies, just as he always does whenever she says that too him. Y/N can't help the smile that stretches across her face, wondering if one day maybe he would say that to her without the sarcasm behind it. 

Y/N had to admit that she had a little crush on the four-eyed boy. Well, that would be an underexagguration. Y/N had practically been in love with the boy riding down the street beside her for almost two years now. It started as a small crush in 5th grade, but young Y/N quickly dismissed it, remembering her other small crush on Stanley just a few months before and that was still slightly present. But as weeks turned into months, and months turned into years, Y/N had to admit to herself that this was more than just a slight infatuation. 

Soon enough, the teens had made their way to the arcade, the bright neon sign flickering the words 'Derry's Best Arcade!'. They walked in and firstly got a slushie from the counter and some tokens to spend on the Street Fighter game. Once they were set with extra large slushies in their hands and a solo cup full to the brim of tokens, they started on their so-called "training" as Richie called it earlier. They were in the dimmed arcade for at least an hour and a half, but neither of them were really keeping track, both of them determined to win. Y/N wanted to win so she could get back into her comfy bed as soon as possible, while Richie was continuing to win to make sure that didn't happen, and he could spend more time with the girl.

After three-fourths of the tokens in the cup have been used up Y/N groaned and started walking away from the machine, pacing back and forth through the aisles of other games. "This is useless, Richie!" she yelled at him once she came back to stand next to him. "It feels like I'm only getting worse at this stupid game! Why did I even agree to come here with you! This is so dumb!"

"Hey, calm down," says Richie, grabbing her shoulders in a way to try and calm her down. "Don't worry about it, Y/N. It's about having fun!"

"Well, I was having plenty of fun before, IN MY BED, where I wanted to be!" she yells back, the sleep deprivation starting to get to her head, quite literally and giving her headaches. "God, sometimes I wonder how I fell in love with you," she says, still not thinking straight, and quickly covering her mouth and squeezing her eyes shut once she realizes what she said. Richie only watched the girl, his mocking face falling clean off to an unreadable one, something Y/N has never seen on the boy.

"Y-you love me?" he asks, his voice going so quiet that the other sounds of the arcade almost drowned it out, but she somehow still heard him. She felt tears starting to well up in her eyes. "oh fuck oh fuck, what did I do?!" she thinks to herself. She tries to cover up by laughing, her head facing down so he couldn't see the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Yeah, of course silly," she says, trying to act casual. "We've discussed this. I love you and Bill and Eddie and Stan-"

"I don't think that's what you meant," he said as he walks closer to her. "And I know that's definitely not what I meant." he stands right in front of her now, hoping she would look up at him and tell him the truth he wanted to hear. But all he got was hearing the small sniffles coming from her, and he knew she was starting to cry. He took her arm gently and brought her outside, bringing her down to sit on the curb. "Hey, baby, please can you talk to me?" he asks quietly. Y/N was shocked by his tone of voice, Richie was never soft with anyone, and it was odd hearing this side of him.

"I'm sorry, Richie," she whispers, still not being able to look up at him. She didn't want him to see her like this, and she knew she couldn't face him after her confession. "Can we just forget this ever happened? I didn't want to say anything because I don't want to ruin our friendship. I can't lose you."

Richie reaches up and grabs her chin, forcing her head up to look at him. He could feel his heart break as he saw her already red puffy eyes. He gave her a soft smile. "You could never ruin our friendship. Besides, you didn't even ask me how I felt?" He suggests, his famous smirk growing back onto his face as he looks back at the girl. She laughs, shaking her head.

"I really don't think I want to do that," she says, biting her lip.

"Trust me, I think you'll want to hear what I have to say," he says to her, smiling still. After a moment of silence, in which Richie realized she wasn't going to say anything, he spoke for himself. "I love you too, Y/N. Like, a lot." This caught Y/N's attention, looking up at him in surprise, her mouth falling open slightly. He laughs at her, using his index finger to reach up and close her mouth. "Don't keep your mouth open, darling, you'll catch flies." Y/N can't help but laugh, shaking her head. Suddenly she flew herself at the boy and engulfed him into a hug. He could only smile as he wrapped his arms around, his grin widening as he felt her put her head into the crook of his neck.

"Thank you, Richie, for everything," she mumbled into his neck as he laughed and pulled away, still holding her shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, doll," he says, his old demeanour coming back as he helped her up. "Now, let's forget about Street Fighter. I'm starting to think an all day nap isn't that bad." He smiled as she laughed. So the two head back home and crawled under the still damp covers of the girl's single bed, and as promised they slept the whole day away.

[spiritedquill]

Sonny’s Home For Boys:  Chapter 9

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 |  Ch10 |

AO3 | FFnet

Summary:  He wasn’t staying. There was no way he could stay, even if Sonny treated him like one of his own. He had to get back to Sammy. His dad would come back and he’d go back to doing what he did best: hunting. Still… the mysterious blue-eyed boy named Castiel made it really hard to not want to stick around and never go anywhere else again.

Chapter 9: 

“Hey, Dean!” 

Dean looked up from his food when he heard Benny’s voice and saw him running towards him. He glanced at Robin apologetically and gave Benny an unamused look. “What is it, Benny?” 

“Dude, are you going to the Homecoming game tonight?” Benny asked, as if it was the most urgent thing he could possibly be asking. Dean chuckled and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Hadn’t thought about it,” he shrugged, then glanced at Robin. “Are you going?”

Robin pouted. “They need me to help set up for the dance. But you should go. It’s a lot of fun.”

Dean considered it. He glanced at the look on Benny’s face, rolling his eyes when the boy waggled his eyebrows at him. “Fine, I guess it could be fun.”

“Dude, yes!” Benny exclaimed, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him a few times. “Promise, Chief, you won’t regret it.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean chuckled, shaking his head. Benny was already heading back to his table where Ash and Chuck were bickering about something or other. Dean turned back to Robin and smiled, a bit forced. “I don’t have to paint my face, do I?”

Robin laughed, shaking her head. “Not unless you want to. Benny only goes for the cheerleaders anyways.”

“Yeah,” Dean laughed, grinning. “To tell ya the truth, I’ve never actually been to one of these things.”

Robin’s eyes widened a bit in surprise. “Never?”

“Never.” 

“Wow,” Robin said thoughtfully. “I definitely thought you’d be the sporty type.”

Dean laughed, a little wistful, and Robin gave him a curious look. “Cars and hunting, that’s about all I learned how to do for basically my whole life.” 

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Robin said casually, and Dean stifled a very, very bitter laugh. 

“You have no idea.”

Robin watched him for a few moments, trying to decide whether or not to press for more details. Based on the guarded look Dean was wearing, she decided not. 

The bell rang and they stood up, standing there awkwardly for a moment. 

“So I’ll see you later--”

“I guess I should--”

They both spoke at the same time and then laughed softly. Dean smiled hesitantly at her and leaned in to kiss her, a brief, feather-light touch. “I’ll see you later,” he said. He hated that his smile felt so forced. Robin deserved better. 

They parted ways and Dean noticed Cas leaving the cafeteria, holding hands with Balthazar. His stomach turned and he felt sick. He had noticed before that Balthazar’s feelings for Cas were maybe a little more than platonic, but he didn’t think that Cas… 

Stop it, he scolded himself, averting his gaze and heading to class. If Cas wanted to date Balthazar, he could. Dean couldn’t stop him. And why should he? Even if Cas did want to be with Dean, it would never end well. The life of a hunter didn’t allow for things like love and commitment. The incident at the carnival had made him realize that. They had been lucky. But next time, and there was always a next time for him, what if Cas got hurt? Dean could never forgive himself if he let that happen. 

So it was for the best. Dean knew that. But knowing didn’t make it any easier when he got to chemistry class and saw Cas and Balthazar walk in shortly after, holding hands once again. 

Jealousy. Yeah, that was a new one for him. 

…

“Bal, you know I have no interest in sweaty jocks giving each other concussions over a big leather peanut.” Cas looked at Balthazar, unamused, as they walked to chemistry class together, holding hands. Cas was grateful for the touch from his best friend. It was calming, comforting. It kept him grounded and reminded him of what mattered. 

“Come on, Cassie, it’ll be fun,” Balthazar said, then smiled suggestively. “Besides, some of those sweaty jocks look damn good in those pants.”

Cas’s face flushed and he laughed. “You’re incorrigible,” he scoffed. “But fine. I’ll go. If only because I love the popcorn they sell at the concessions booth.”

Balthazar grinned. “That’s the spirit, Cas!”

They walked into the chemistry lab still talking and laughing quietly, and Balthazar squeezed his hand before letting him go to his seat, next to Dean.

Cas could feel Balthazar watching them from across the room, suspicious and brooding. He looked up when the teacher started the lesson, keeping his focus lasered in on taking notes. He was glad that it was a textbook kind of day and not a lab partner kind of day. It made things a bit less awkward.

Dean was struggling to keep up with the note-taking, his attention drawn to Cas’s hands and his quick, elegant writing. He wondered why he’d never paid much attention to Cas’s hands before. His fingers were long and nimble and Dean couldn’t help but remember the way they felt against his skin, pushing his shirt up just so… 

Dammit. 

Dean shifted in his seat, pulling his jacket down and attempting to hide the evidence of his train of thought. He couldn’t help himself, though, he kept sneaking glances at Cas. Even when Cas wasn’t looking at him, he could see the slight drawing together of his eyebrows as he concentrated, and the tiny frown on his face as he subtly mouthed the words he was writing. He was wearing a dark blue shirt that brought out his eyes, topped with a black hoodie, and his hair was sticking out in every which way. 

He was sitting so close and it was simply intoxicating. But Dean couldn’t look away. 

“Mr. Winchester,” the teacher said, annoyed, pausing in his lecturing. “Please, stop daydreaming and start taking notes. This will be on the test.”

Dean nodded quickly and directed his eyes to his notebook, jotting down crap about molecules and atomic numbers with a shaky hand. He could feel wondering eyes on him and he wished he could crawl under the lab table and hide. That is, until he noticed a certain pair of eyes sneaking a couple of not-so-subtle glances at him. He looked up just in time to catch Cas’s eyes, and it was the first time in more than a week that Cas had actually looked at him. 

He wanted to say something, but nothing seemed quite right. Not here, not now, not enough. He just wanted his friend back. And maybe, if he was lucky, he wouldn’t mind Cas kissing him again. He hadn’t had the presence of mind to appreciate it enough the first time and he missed the feeling. He wanted another go. 

The opportunity to say anything at all was lost when Cas cleared his throat and turned his attention back to his notebook. Dean felt like he’d screwed up his only chance.

Before he knew it, the bell rang and class was out. Cas was up and out the door before Dean could even gather his books. Sighing, Dean slung his backpack over one shoulder and made his way to the library. Oh, if Sammy could see him now, actually doing homework and shit. He’d be so proud. 

He made it about an hour before he’d had enough. He decided to head out to the football field and try and get a good seat. He didn’t know when Benny was planning on showing up but he didn’t really care much about that. He was mostly going because it was easier than going home and being ignored by Cas all night. He could only take so much of that. 

He saw the band getting set up in their section of the bleachers, and Dean decided to make himself comfortable on the end closest to the exit. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to stick around for the whole thing. 

“Hey there, chief!” 

Dean startled a bit and looked up when Benny sat down beside him, clapping his shoulder roughly. “Hey man,” he said with a light laugh. 

“Ready to watch some babes in tiny skirts do cartwheels?” Benny asked with a wide grin, which quickly turned to amusement. “Oh right, I forgot, Winchester’s got a girlfriend now.”

Dean shoved his shoulder. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he muttered. 

“Right,” Benny scoffed. “If not Robin then Chatty Cassie. Take your pick.”

Dean grumbled incoherently and shoved him again. Benny laughed and shook his head. 

“Just speaking the truth.”

“Yeah, well, shut up,” Dean snarked. 

“What?” Benny asked, holding his hands up. “I’m not judging. Just saying it’s obvious, the way you look at him.”

“I… I don’t…”

“Yeah, you do,” Benny said, staring at him with a deadpan expression. “Look, man, it’s fine if you don’t wanna talk about… whatever’s been going on with you two. But it’s eatin’ at you, I can tell. Just talk to him, for god’s sake.”

Dean shook his head, staring out at the field where a couple of players were getting warmed up. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t wanna talk to me. I’ve tried.”

Benny shrugged. “If you say so. You’re both just so mopey. I almost liked it better when you guys made gross doe-eyes at each other all the time.”

 “We didn’t--” Dean stopped short. There was no use lying, and he was tired of it anyways. He wasn’t going to admit it out loud, what Cas meant to him, whatever this thing was between them, but he couldn’t quite deny it either. “I fucked up,” he said finally, a resigned whisper. 

Benny nudged him with his shoulder, gently, offering a warm smile. “Trust me, man, he looks at you, same way you look at him. Whatever you did, you can’t fuck that up. Not so easy, anyway.”

Dean felt something dangerous tug at his heart: hope. He sighed and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. Benny didn’t say anything else, but it was enough for Dean to feel like he was drowning. 

They sat in silence for a while, except for Benny nudging him and pointing at the cheerleaders when they started their routine. “If you don’t got a girlfriend or a boyfriend, then maybe what you need is a distraction.” 

Maybe Benny was right. Perhaps Dean could use a distraction that wasn’t going to end with him hurting someone he cared about. Robin was great at distracting him from Cas, but he knew that he was only going to hurt her and he hated it. 

So, he let himself enjoy watching the cheerleaders. No harm in that, right?

Once the game started, Dean found himself actually getting into it, cheering and booing appropriately. He’d never had much of a chance to care about school sports teams, but it felt kinda nice to feel like he was part of something. At some point, Ash joined them, painted in school colors from his chest up. Benny and Dean had to stop him from tossing his shirt onto the field after a particularly exciting play. Dean was laughing and cheering and jumping up from his seat, getting lost in the crowd mentality and the deafening sound of bass drums and trumpets. 

All of that was drowned out into the background, however, when he noticed a familiar head of unruly black hair. He froze, staring after Cas who was heading towards the concessions stand.

He ignored Benny asking him if he was alright, and he was walking towards Cas before he even gave his legs permission to move. He hesitated before he reached the concessions, trying to work up the courage. Balthazar wasn’t next to him and the boy’s from Sonny’s weren’t around to interrupt. This could be his only chance. 

A flick of movement in the darkness caught his eye, over by the school, and he frowned. Instinctively, he stuck his hand in his pocket and wrapped his fingers around his knife, already walking closer to get a better look. 

“You better not have forgotten my hot dog, Cassie.” Balthazar grinned as Cas came back from the concessions stand, but his smile fell when he saw the look on Cas’s face. “What’s wrong?” He followed Cas’s gaze and saw Dean sprinting back to the school. He sighed. “Cas, he’s not worth it. Leave it.” Cas hesitated and Balthazar added, “Please. Let’s just watch the game and cheer for the wrong team, okay?”

“We all play for the other team, anyways,” Charlie chimed in with a sneaky smile, and Cas actually choked out a laugh. Balthazar smiled. “But I swear to god if you guys cheer for those heathens, I will skin you both alive.”

As Dean got closer to the school, he caught a glimpse of Gordon running inside. Running from someone. No, something. 

“Dammit,” he muttered, following Gordon and that thing into the school. Gordon may have been a dick, but Dean was a hunter. And saving people was his job. Even people like Gordon. 

“Get the hell away from me!” 

He heard Gordon shout, panicked and fearful, and Dean ran faster to catch up to them. He followed a trail of drops of blood to the bathrooms, approaching cautiously as he heard Gordon’s voice echoing scared and shaking. He was going for the element of surprise. And it would’ve worked if Gordon didn’t look right at him as soon as he rounded the corner. So much for that.

Dean slapped on a half-cocky, half-terrified grin, getting into a fighting stance as the monster turned to face him. Now that he had a better look, he realized it was a vampire. The thing bared its teeth at Dean and he stuffed his knife in his pocket. It was useless here.

“Look who came for dessert,” the vamp sneered, grinning darkly as she studied Dean hungrily. Gordon was frozen in the corner, sweat and blood dripping from his forehead.

“Well, I would say eat me,” Dean said with a shrug. “But, well, you know.”

The monster lunged at Dean and he threw a punch, groaning through his teeth and shaking his hand out. Shit, that hurt. 

The vamp made a sound that resembled a laugh and Dean glared. “You won’t be laughing in a minute, you blood-sucking bitch.”

A plan formulating, Dean circled around, getting in between the vamp and Gordon. “Come and get it,” he taunted, grabbing his knife again and cutting a thin line into his arm. He winced a bit but didn’t let it show. “Come on, I taste delicious!”

The vampire let out a shriek and jumped at him, and Dean side-stepped. He used her momentum to shove her towards the stalls, opening the door and then slamming it shut with expert timing. The head rolled out from the stall and Dean made a face, breathing heavily. “Don’t lose your head or anything,” he muttered, smiling to himself.

He looked back when he remembered Gordon, and his stomach dropped. Shit.

“You… Those teeth… the head… What the fuck?” Gordon scrambled to his feet and backed away from Dean towards the exit. “You stay the fuck away from me, freak!”

Gordon ran out of the bathroom and Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, don’t thank me for saving your ass or anything.”

Dean wiped his hands down his jeans and looked around. Well, someone had to clean up this mess. And something told him the janitor wouldn’t keep his trap shut.

…

The game was nearly over by the time Dean had cleaned up the blood and disposed of the body, and Dean was exhausted. He decided to head back to Sonny’s and call it a night. 

While he had to admit some part of him enjoyed the adrenaline rush that came from killing a monster, he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread in his gut. First the carnival, now this. He should’ve known that he couldn’t run away from his past, from his life. He was a hunter. And hunters didn’t get normal lives. It just didn’t work like that. You fought and saved people and then you died young and bloody with 2 dollars to your name. That was just how it was. 

But Dean had accepted that a long time ago. It was nothing new, as much as he despised the reminder. As he approached Sonny’s porch, he realized the real reason why the vamp attack had him so shaken up. 

Cas. If there were hunters and monsters around, then Cas was in danger. If Dean was around, then Cas was in danger. Bad shit followed him wherever he went, and it was selfish to want to be close to Cas because being close meant putting him in harm’s way. That was one of the first things a hunter had to learn. If you cared about someone, the best thing to do was to get as far away from them as possible. 

Dean refused to expose Cas to his life, to the darkness. No matter how badly he wished he could tell him everything and no matter how much he hoped Cas would pull him close and tell him he loved him anyway.

Dean’s shoulders slumped as he got ready for bed, brushing his teeth and slipping into some sweatpants before crawling under the covers. 

…

“Dean!”

Panicked and breathing hard, Dean ran through the halls of the school, trying to find the source of the cries for help.

“Dean!”

Letting out a groan that was verging on a sob, he skidded to a stop and turned on his heels. How was it behind him now?

“Help me!”

The voice echoed, seeming to come from every direction at once, far away and out of reach. 

“You can’t save them, Dean.”

He jumped and turned around, the color draining from his face when he saw who was standing there. 

“Sammy?”

“You can’t save them.”

“Who? I don’t…”

“You can’t save anyone, Dean. You couldn’t even protect your own brother.”

“Sammy…” Dean collapsed to his knees and Sam disappeared. Dean cried out, desperate, “Sammy!”

“Dean! Help me!”

Forcing himself to get to his feet, Dean tried to focus. He still had a job to do. Saving people. That’s what he was good at. 

He held his gun and flashlight out in front of him, ignoring the fact that he hadn’t had them a minute ago, and started kicking open doors. 

“Dean!”

The voice was becoming more familiar as Dean got closer. It was still foggy and Dean couldn’t quite place it.

As Dean came to the end of the hall, ready to kick down the last door, suddenly the voice was crystal clear.

“Dean, help me!”

Cas.

Dean barged into the room to find Cas on the floor and a vampire standing above him with blood dripping from its mouth. 

Not bothering to think about how he suddenly had a machete instead of a gun, Dean cried out and lunged at the monster, beheading it with one hard swing. Then he fell to the ground beside Cas, landing hard on his knees. 

“Cas,” he choked out. “Cas! Stay with me, don’t you die on me.”

“Why didn’t you save me?”

“What?” Dean flinched away, startled, and Cas reached up to touch his face. His throat was ripped out, he should be dead, but he was talking to Dean.

“You were supposed to save me, Dean,” Cas said again, and Dean choked out a sob. “You did this to me, Dean.”

“Dean!” 

Dean shot up in bed, sweat and tears indistinguishable against his pale skin. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he grabbed his knife from under his pillow, going for the throat…

“Dean!” Cas gasped, and the knife fell from Dean’s shaking hand.

“Cas?” he whispered, his voice cracked and trembling. 

“It’s just me, Dean,” Cas said softly, his features heavy with worry. “You’re safe. It was just a dream.” 

Dean let out a shaky sob and collapsed against Cas’s chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Cas…”

Cas hushed him and crawled up into Dean’s bed, holding the boy to his chest. He rubbed his back gently and whispered calming nothings in his ear. Cas started singing softly and Dean choked out a sob as he recalled something he’d long-since forgotten. 

He didn’t remember much about his mom. But as soon as Cas started singing-- “Hey, Jude… Don’t be afraid” --Dean remembered her favorite song and her sweet voice as she sang him to sleep. 

Dean cried softly into Cas’s shoulder as his shaking fingers curled into Cas’s shirt and refused to move. He tried to focus on Cas’s low, rough voice, on his heartbeat. Steady, real, alive. Cas was alive. Not another innocent doomed for just having known Dean. He was safe. That thought was enough to calm Dean’s violent trembling and eventually he slumped, exhausted, in Cas’s arms. 

Cas sang to Dean until his voice was barely even a whisper and Dean was asleep in his arms. He didn’t dare move and wake him. He was grateful that the other boys were sound sleepers. 

He wished he knew what had Dean so scared. It was clearly a nightmare, but it seemed like more than that. Dean was terrified. Cas had never seen anything like it. It was like Dean thought it was real, whatever his nightmare was about. Cas really didn’t know what to make of that. 

Cas tried not to think about it. He focused on laying Dean down on his pillow. He was about to go back to his own bed when Dean latched onto his hand. Cas wasn’t sure if he was even conscious but his grip was desperate and fearful, like he didn’t want to lose him. Sighing, Cas grabbed Dean’s hand and laid down beside him. Dean was curled up on his side and Cas laid there with his arm draped over Dean’s waist. His breath caught in his throat when Dean nestled closer to him, wrapping an arm around Cas and burying his face in his chest. 

Cas couldn’t move for a few moments. He was having a hard time believing this was actually happening. Dean had barely even looked at him since their kiss, and now he was insisting that they sleep in the same bed. Cas told himself it was just the nightmare. 

It was difficult not to hope, though. Especially when Dean only pulled him closer rather than pushing him away.

…

They didn’t talk about what happened. Dean felt like he’d completely humiliated himself and scared the shit out of Cas. What else was there to talk about?

He didn’t know why Cas had agreed to stay with him all night, holding him and comforting him. Dean had pulled a knife on him. He’d almost hurt him. Why was Cas still being so kind to him?

He tried not to think about what Benny had said at the game. It was insane. Cas wasn’t in love with him. Dean just wasn’t worth that level of devotion. There had to be another explanation. Maybe Cas felt bad for him. He’d seen the pathetic darkness behind Dean’s confident facade and he was taking pity on him. Taking care of him and then turning around and mocking him for being so weak. 

Yeah. That made more sense than the idea of Cas being in love with him. 

Dean sat alone at lunch. Robin was busy with Homecoming dance preparations and Dean just didn’t have the energy to joke around with the boys. He went from lost in thought to high alert, however, when he spotted Gordon leaving the cafeteria. He didn’t trust that dick to not blow this whole thing up in Dean’s face. He had to make sure he wasn’t going to tell anyone. Unfortunately, he knew the best way to do that. 

Making sure no one was following him, Dean found Gordon behind the school. As Gordon turned around in surprise, Dean grabbed him and slammed him against the wall. He had a dangerous look in his eyes and a sneer on his face that meant he wasn’t messing around. Still, Dean was a little surprised that Gordon actually looked scared. 

“You tell anyone?” Dean growled, pressing his arm against Gordon’s neck. 

Gordon grunted and tried to push Dean away but it became pretty clear that Dean was stronger than him. He’d been holding back before. “No, you crazy freak,” he snapped. “You think anyone would believe me?”

Dean huffed out a bitter, dark laugh. Gordon had a point. He pushed away from him and glared at the boy. “Good. You try running your mouth and I swear to god you’ll regret it.”

Gordon nodded quickly, holding a hand to his throat and running off. 

Dean sighed, turning and sliding his back down the wall until he was sitting on the sidewalk. That was one less thing to worry about, at least.

The next thing on his list was figuring out what to do about the dance. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go with Robin, but he was afraid that he was giving her the wrong impression. Every chaste kiss was getting more and more forced and he felt like the worst person on the planet. 

He decided he would find her after school. They needed to talk, as much as he was dreading it. He didn’t even know what he was going to say.

After chemistry lab was over, which was as awkward as ever with Cas sitting next to him, Dean made his way to the gymnasium where he knew Robin would be getting ready for the dance. It was three days away now so Dean was cutting it pretty close. 

“Hey, Dean!” she said with a smile as she bounced over to him, pecking his cheek. “What do you think? The theme is Stairway to Heaven. I know it’s cliche, but…”

“I like it,” Dean said honestly. He looked around at the pure white decorations, the fake staircase which served as the photoshoot backdrop, and the banner reading ‘Stairway to Heaven’ that hung above the stage. “Do you have a minute?” he asked after a moment of hesitation. She gave him a worried look but nodded, following him outside. 

“Is everything okay, Dean?” she asked, and a part of her already knew the answer. 

Dean shook his head, running his hands over his face before meeting her eyes. “I… I like you, Robin,” he started. “I just… I didn’t mean to make you think…”

“Dean,” Robin stopped him, smiling sadly. She’d seen this coming. “It’s okay.”

Dean frowned, looking at her in confusion. “Wait, what? You’re not mad or anything? You don’t wanna slap me?”

Robin laughed a bit, shaking her head. “No. I knew this wasn’t some epic romance. Not starring me, anyways.”

“What does that mean?” Dean asked, afraid he already knew the answer.

Robin rolled her eyes. “Dean, you know.” When he didn’t say anything, she continued. “Cas. I’d have to be blind not to see you staring at him.”

Dean tried to deny it, but Robin gave him a knowing look and he just couldn’t. 

“Look, we can still go to the dance if you want,” she went on. “As friends. But you should really try talking to him.”

Dean was tired. He had been trying so hard to deny his feelings for Cas, but something about the way Robin was looking at him, so understanding and kind… He just couldn’t do it anymore. 

“I… I don’t know,” he whispered, his shoulders sagging as a defeated expression crossed his face. He didn’t know why he still couldn’t say the words. “He’s… Cas, he’s different,” he tried again, and it still wasn’t coming out how he wanted it to. “He kissed me, and… God, I never thought…” 

He looked at Robin, suddenly wondering if he shouldn’t be saying this to her. But she didn’t look hurt or upset. She was actually smiling. Dean swallowed thickly and continued. 

“I’ve never had a kiss like that,” he admitted. “I’ve never… felt like this. I…”

“You love him,” Robin finished for him. He grunted and averted his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I don’t wanna lose him,” he told her quietly. 

They went silent for a few moments, then Robin grabbed his hand and met his gaze. “How ‘bout this? You and me, we can go to the dance as friends. And then you’re gonna talk to Cas and tell him how you really feel.”

“I… don’t know…”

“Not up for negotiation,” Robin said with finality, grinning at him. He couldn’t help but smile back. “I’ve gotta go help them finish up in there, but I’ll see you later, Dean.”

He nodded and she ran back inside, and then he was alone with his thoughts again. With a lot more to think about. He couldn’t use Robin, hurting her, as an excuse anymore. She actually wanted him to go for it with Cas. That was one he didn’t see coming. 

He had to ask himself what he really had to lose. Cas was already refusing to talk to him. He’d already ruined their friendship, so what harm would it do to come clean? He didn’t have a damn clue what he would even say but at least he had to let Cas know that he cared. He owed him that much. At worst, Cas would keep ignoring him. At best… Well, Dean didn’t want to get his hopes up. But the idea made him smile. 

Maybe Cas hated him. Maybe he was scared of him, wanted nothing to do with him. Maybe he would tell Dean to fuck off. Maybe he didn’t love him.

But on the other hand… Maybe he did.

@gggghik @brangaene @sold-my-soul-for-spn

[gerbiloftriumph]

Captive Crown

(also on ao3)

Someone wanted the newly crowned King of Daventry and all his friends dead. Someone got close, once.

(warnings for the whole thing: kidnapping, bruising, starvation, nightmares, healthy dosage of angsty musing, sicfic, story-coherent vehicle for all my favorite ch2 headcanons)

~*~*~

1/7

(1: to steal)(2: to hide)(3: to seek)(4: to find)(5: to break)(6: to mend)(7: to heal, and to end)

~*~*~

Later, when he was retelling the story and he got to the bit where something on the rooftops scrabbled and slid, people would always ask, “Why didn’t you just leave when you heard that noise?”

He’d always reply, “Why would I? It was just the sound of rain on roof tiles. A squirrel trying to get somewhere safe and dry. Nothing to do with me.”

~*~*~

And anyway, looking up into the skies just got rainwater in his face, blinding him. Graham hunched his shoulders and pressed on into the town, steering for the baker’s shop almost without thinking. His jaw was still set with frustration, but it had settled into frustration with himself rather than with his royal guards. They were doing their best. He was (mostly) sure of that. But he wasn’t King Edward, and they didn’t seem to know what to do with King Graham. It didn’t matter what Olfie said: Graham was wearing the wrong hat. He was on the wrong adventure. But without ideas for how to fix it, it was hard to keep his anger sharp.

Instead, he was starting to feel pathetic. He probably looked it, too—all bedraggled and soggy. Olfie had protected him from the worst of the weather as they walked together, but this was a proper late summer Daventry monsoon. The lower lavender fields might even flood if this kept up.

And what am I supposed do if that happens? Probably there’s a list of rules somewhere for Ruined Lavender Intake. I should have it memorized already.

He stood under Wente’s awning, wringing rain out of his cloak hem. No one answered his first knock. Nor his second. Or third. Disappointment dripped, like the water on the ends of his soppy curls. He’d expected—hoped—Wente would let him in and wrap him in a big, soul-squeezing, floury hug that might taste just a like bit like sugar and berries. Like safety. Graham shifted, listening impatiently for some sound from within but only hearing the steady, rattling downpour of rain on rooftops and down drains. It was a lonely sort of sound, hollow.

Whatever anger he’d been carrying was now drowned. He stumbled away, bleary and miserable. Maybe he could go to someone else? But the other homes looked just as dark and unwelcoming. Might as well go back to the castle. Deal with the nonsense he’d left behind.

Glass crunched beneath his boot. He glanced back toward the window of Wente’s shop. Now that he was bothering to pay attention, from this angle, he could see shattered glass and twisted wood. It looked like candies and pies had been thrown all over, oozing sweet fillings into the floorboards.

Before he could even begin to process that, he heard a shrill flute from…above? He whirled, squinting past the rain.

The shapes were unmistakable. Goblins crowded the rooftops, dropping down around him. Startled, he didn’t even have the time to cry out before they pounced. He stumbled back, tripped over something (a goblin crouched behind him, a nasty trick that worked just as well this time as it had not that long ago), and slammed into the cobblestones. The world went black.

~*~*~

Rain dripped on his cheek and helped rouse him gradually from insensibility. Muzzily, he realized he was lying on his side in the mud just outside the Daventry town gates, just on the edge of the forest. In the overcast gloom, the trees were blurs. The back of his head hurt, and he tried to reach up to it, to feel out what was wrong, but his arms refused to cooperate. For a terrible, confused instant he thought he was paralyzed, and then he noticed an unexpected pressure on his wrists—his hands were tied together behind his back.

His heart started racing, and he could see odd shapes under the trees, in the bushes, on the path, near him, and he sensed he was surrounded, and he felt stony hands on his shoulders push him into a sitting position, and he yelped into full wakefulness. Around him, the shapes, goblins, stepped back, watching.

“Wha—what is this? What’s going on?” Graham croaked, his voice thick. Shivery panic skated down his spine, and he shook his head, trying to focus. He only managed to make the ache worse. He struggled, but the ropes against his wrists held firm. “What do you want? You can’t do this to me! I—I’m the king!” (Or was that the wrong thing to say? Maybe he shouldn’t admit to it? The crown surely gave it away, though.)

They stared at him impassively, crouched a few feet away on all sides. At least, he thought they were staring impassively. Masks of stone hid every face. Mist curled around them, blurring their edges.

“I demand you release me! Untie this! Now!”

The pack of goblins crept closer, silent in the downpour. He swallowed his dread and stiffened as best he could, trying to look regal while covered in mud and soaking wet. “I assume you’re doing as I asked.”

From behind, one of them dropped a loop of rope around his chest, pinning his upper arms to his sides and drawing the loop tight.

“Hey! No! S-stop! I’m the king!” He fought, kicking out and trying uselessly to pull away. He couldn’t throw them off, couldn’t get the leverage he needed by himself, half-concussed and dripping and afraid. Then, with triumphant realization: “I’m not alone!” He drew in a deep breath, fighting against the restriction across his chest, and bellowed, “Olfie! Help me!” He forced a grin. “Have you ever tried to fight a bridge troll?”

In the distance, a low rumble started, and as one, every goblin froze. The rope around his chest slackened and slipped past his elbows as the cluster of goblins backed away uneasily. Graham sat gloating, waiting for the huge hand to sweep down and pluck him from this nightmare. Except, the hand didn’t come. Nothing else seemed to happen. The goblins looked toward the town, toward the forest behind them, and at each other, and he could see their tension evaporating. With a sick twist in his stomach, Graham realized the first sound was nothing more than a coincidence. Could have been anything. Some low thunder perfectly timed, or water dislodging a boulder in the forest, or some animal in the underbrush. Not Olfie.

I hadn’t asked him to stay. The rain, he can’t hear me over the rain. He could have gone anywhere. He can’t hear me without a horn. Oh, stars.

“I…I’m sure he’ll be along directly,” he stammered. “Just a delay. You know. The—the rain. He’s coming. I’m protected. Definitely.” He paused, glancing at his surroundings—just outside the town gates, near the workshop—and cried, “Help! Amay—ow!” His plea cut out as the goblin behind him snapped the rope back up and cinched it tight. “Stop! That hurts! Let go!”

The royal guards! he thought as hands clutched at his clothes and dragged him forward—but no, he’d been so angry, they wouldn’t come after him for hours. He’d ordered them to stay in the castle, and they’d been too happy to comply, to stay in the warm and the dry rather than trek out into a monsoon with a cranky king, and now he was in so much trouble.

“You’ll be in trouble!” he warned, pouring as much fury into it as he could. “This is assault against the entire kingdom! They’re coming to find me as we speak!”

No one listened.  Instead, they flung him up into the air and caught him by arms and legs, holding him above the mud.

“No, wait, stop! Put me down!”

They did, sort of: they threw him forward, and he landed on something soft, bouncing. He rolled onto his side and was entirely baffled to discover that they’d tossed him onto a damp mattress, mostly sheltered from the rain by the dark tree canopy.

Hands pulled and tugged and managed to get him sitting, and then they all stood around him for a long, silent, and speculative moment. He had the sense he was being judged, and he had the sense he was found lacking. Their shoulders hunched with what looked like disappointment, and several made dismayed hand motions above their heads.

“What are…”

Graham heard an excited cry from the town, and he twisted in time to see yet another one join the pack, clutching Edward’s crown. Graham hadn’t even noticed the crown’s absence. The goblin launched forward like it was about to win a game, and it slammed the crown down, hard, in its proper place. He yelped, but around him, applause broke out.

“That’s enough!” he snapped, crown sitting almost jauntily across his forehead and pressing his wet hair flat against his face, making him look entirely unimpressive. “Help! Olfie! Amayaaaaahh!” It turned into a proper scream as a spearhead jammed up beneath his chin, sharp edge threatening to cut. “Okay, okay,” he whispered, hardly daring to breathe. “I get the point.”

In so much trouble.

Two goblins sat down on either side, the one with the spear looking rather menacing. Then again, they all looked menacing, looming over him like this. He shrank beneath gazes and weapons, not at all sure what they were going to do next.

The answer came soon enough. They clustered around, hoisted the mattress on their shoulders, and darted off into the trees. His two guards clutched his arms to stop him slipping off while they moved.

[originalhybridloverfics]

I Will Love You Forever - Ch2 - Steroline

A/N: Okay so I decided to continue this into a series of One-Shots throughout Stefan and Caroline's lives. They won't always be in order. This one is a little short but I wanted to get something up. Regardless I hope you like it. The smell of bacon filtered through Caroline's senses as her eyes fluttered open from her restful sleep, she swept her hand out across the bed, reaching across it but finding it empty. Just weeks ago that would have sent her into a panic, the fear that he was dead still so vivid so real but she had time to adjust to come to terms with everything that happened. She no longer had to remind herself every time he wasn't in her sights that he was alive. That he made it back to her. That him coming back wasn't some dream. It was real. He was real. He didn't sacrifice himself. He didn't die. It had taken her time to really believe that. When her hand brushed over his side of the bed she could feel his body heat still on the sheets, knowing he hadn't been gone to long and again the smell of breakfast filled the air and she knew she where she would find him. She tossed the sheet that covered her bare body off, standing up and spotting Stefan's discarded shirt on the floor, she scooped it up, slipping it on, loving the way she drowned in the fabric, as it came down to her thighs. Venturing from the room quietly, she made her way downstairs to the kitchen, smiling to herself when she saw him at the stove in only a pair of black sweats. She moved forward pressing herself against his back, pressing a kiss to his right shoulder, her hands on his sides. "Something smells good." "I hope so." Stefan flicked off the stove, turning around and slipping one of his arms around her waist. The other cupping her jaw, tilting her head back as he swooped down capturing her lips in a tender kiss, his lips moving slowly with hers, lingering. Caroline smiled up at him as he pulled back, resting a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her palm. "I was hoping to surprise you with breakfast in bed." Stefan murmured, as he brushed her blonde hair away from her face before traveling his hand down her back wrapping both arms around her. Caroline smiled, eyes filling with warmth as she reached up looping her arms around his neck. "As lovely as that sounds I'd be more than happy with just you in my bed." "Our bed." Stefan corrected, hands rubbing circles into her lower back. "Our bed." Caroline repeated, leaning up and kissing him, one of her hands curling around the back of his neck, finger's burying in his hair, her other hand sliding around his shoulder and down his chest, feeling the dips and planes of his torso. "Our bed that is empty and waiting for us." She whispered enticingly against his lips. Stefan gave a laugh, placing a quick hard kiss to her lips. "Breakfast first." Caroline pouted up at him. "Has are fire gone out already?" A teasing glint shining in her eyes. "A few weeks into the marriage and already we've lost our spark. Whatever will we-" she cut off with a shriek as Stefan hoisted her up, grasping her thighs and setting her down on the counter. "Stefan!" She laughed as he captured her mouth in a heated kiss, stepping in between her legs, one hand on her hip the other tangled in her blonde hair. Stefan's lips traveled from her mouth to the underside of her jaw, down her neck and back up, skimming over her earlobe. "We'll never lose our spark, Mrs. Salvatore." Caroline felt warmth and love feel her chest, she turned her head, locking eyes with him with a smile. "Prove it, Mr. Salvatore." Stefan grinned, his eyes shining with love, stepping away from her, looking over his shoulder to make sure he turned the stove off before scooping Caroline in his arms and making his way back to his bedroom, Caroline's delighted laughter feeling his ears, making his heart feel lighter than it had in years. When Caroline woke up again it was to the bed dipping, she stretched her arms above her the bed sheet slipping down, she glanced over and found Stefan sliding into bed with a plate of food. "Little late for breakfast?" she glanced at the clock and saw it was a little after noon. "Well, I got distracted." He trailed his eyes over her sheet clad body, his eyes darkening. Caroline smiled, reaching for his discarded shirt that she had taken over at the end of the bed and slipping it on before turning back to him as he handed her a plate, of French toast scrabbled eggs and bacon. She bit into the toast, humming at how good it was, out of the two of them Stefan was definitely the better cook. "I could get used to this." "You better." Stefan leaned over kissing her sweetly. "I plan on making you breakfast every morning for a very, very long time." "That sounds perfect." She cup his cheek, bringing his mouth back to hers, kissing him deeply, tasting rich coffee on his lips, she hummed, kissing him deeper. Stefan nipped at her bottom lip before pulling back with a grin. "Eat your breakfast." Caroline pouted but took another bite of her toast, watching as Stefan reached into the bedside table pulling out her notebook. "What are you looking at?" "Your list of places to Honeymoon." Stefan grinned. "Italy? France? Bali? Barcelona? The Caribbean? And that's just to name a few. I thought we were narrowing down the list?" "That is the narrow down list. I can't decide which one though." She gave a shrug. "I would love to go to any of them I just can't pick which one." She tilted her head at him. "At this rate we'll never go on our honeymoon." "We'll go." Stefan told her, pausing as an idea came to him. "We could go to all of them." "Yeah, sure." Caroline laughed. "Let's just spend our honeymoon traveling." "Experiencing the world together." Stefan corrected. "It's not like we can't afford it. Money won't be a problem. I could show you all my favorites cities, a new city almost every night, new adventures." Caroline bit her lip looking at his earnest expression but she still hesitated. It wasn't that she didn't want to. It was just that she wasn't sure about spending so much time away from her girls. Stefan reached out clasping her left hand in his, lifting it up and brushing his lips over her knuckles in a loving caress, he looked at her through his dark lashes. "What about Lizzie and Josie?" She chewed on her bottom lip worriedly even as his lips brushed over her knuckles, causing goosebumps to travel up her arm and fought off a delighted shiver. "You can skype whenever you want. We could even stop by Disney World, Alaric could bring them, we'll meet up. You can call them everyday. It'll only be for a few weeks, a month tops." He turned her hand around pressing a lingering kiss to the palm of her hand, his thumb rubbing against thee inside of her wrist. "Okay." Caroline murmured. "Okay?" Stefan wanted to make sure he heard her correctly. "You'll go with me." Caroline smiled softly, cupping his jaw with her right hand. "I'd go anywhere with you, Stefan." Stefan eyes shine with love and adoration, smiling brightly at her. He reached out taking her plate and setting it on the bedside table and tossing her list beside it before he surged forward, capturing her mouth in a kiss, not releasing her hand, as he leaned over her until her back was pressed against the mattress, interlacing her hand in his, their fingers intertwining together. Caroline gave a happy laugh. "What about breakfast." "Forget breakfast." He kissed her deeply and Caroline instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, as his lips traveled across the underside of her jaw. "I can, I can definitely do that." She breathed as he sucked kisses down her throat, his free hand slipping beneath the shirt she wore wrapping around her rib. "I love you." Stefan whispered reverently and proceeded to whispered the words into every inch of her skin like he was worshipping her. Caroline had never felt so loved as she trailed her hands over his bare back, tipping her head back to expose her neck further to him. "I love you too, so much." She breathed losing herself in his love. She thought she knew what love was supposed to be like but loving Stefan she realized this was what love was supposed to be and she wouldn't have it any other way. A/N: Feel free to leave suggestions of things you might like to see. Also quick question, Smut or no smut?

[professorflowriter]

Merories of Deception Ch2, Part 2 (adult+ trigger warnings)

**flashback**

A slap across the face roused her from her stupor, and when her head cleared she looked up into the sneering face of Lucius Malfoy.

“I see I have the … pleasure… of welcoming dirty mudbloods into my home once again,” he leered. “I hope you enjoy the evening’s entertainment. I know I will. This evening more than usual.” He cast his eyes down her body as she shivered under his gaze. With a flick of a plain black wand the tattered remains of her clothes disappeared, and she tried to pull her arms and legs in to cover herself, but they were bound tight by metal shackles. Malfoy reached out his hand to grope her, squeezing hard enough to bruise before smirking at her horror and discomfort at the feel of his hands. He stepped away.

“I imagine you are extremely eager to join us all upstairs, where of course you will have the honour of being allowed into the presence of the Dark Lord himself. I’m sure he will enjoy your company this evening.”

Hermione barely had time to make a sound of dismay at his words, before, with another wave of his wand, the shackles on her wrists and ankles opened, and she fell forwards, her legs weak from the unnatural position she had been left in for so long. She fell hard, hitting the floor with her knees and elbows as Lucius deftly stepped out of the way. Touching the wounds on her wrists numbly, she heard Lucius speak again.

“Bring her upstairs, Wormtail. And no touching, you filthy rat. Not until the Dark Lord has finished with her at least.”

With a start he noticed the other…man… in the room, cowering rodent-like in the shadows behind Lucius. The blonde-haired man glanced down at her exposed body on the floor, before turning and stalking away, exiting the room though a narrow door on the opposite side.

Wormtail lunged at her, sinking his long nails into the flesh of her upper arm as he dragged her to her feet. She tried to pull out of his grip, disgusted by the cold clammy feeling of his hand on her skin, but his wand was immediately at her throat. “Just give me a reason, go on. I’d love to get my hands on more than the other’s leftovers for once.” His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he looked down at her with twisted desire. “No? Best not keep them waiting then.”

He pushed her roughly through the door, his hand still wrapped firmly round her arm, and up a steep flight of steps into a dim corridor barely less dark and dank than the cellar she had just left. Panic was starting to rise in her throat, and her stomach was heaving. This is it, she thought. What are the chances of me leaving this place in one piece? She kept her thoughts carefully away from what she suspected might happen to her before the night was through, or she would have thrown up there and then, despite her best efforts to keep her terror under control.

Wormtail dragged her towards the door at the end of the corridor, while she tried her hardest to talk herself into a measure of authority over her gibbering emotions. Stand up straight, courage. You’re a Gryffindor. You’ve been in bad situations before and always got out. Don’t shame yourself and give them what they want to see, they will humiliate you enough without you adding to it. Damn, what I would give for my wand. She took a last hurried breath and pushed her feelings into the tightest ball she could as they stepped through the doorway.

She stepped out into a large room, elegantly furnished, though, like darkly lit and dreary. What is it with these people? Just because they’re bad doesn’t mean they all have to like their houses cold, dark and furnished in grey and black. The thought made her lips quirk slightly before her attention was captured by the number of people standing in small groups scattered around the room. Slowly, as more of them spotted her and her escort, the quiet murmuring around the room faded into silence.

Wormtail released his grip and motioned with his wand across the room. She decided to take the initiative and stepped in front of him, walking slowly, with her head held up across the room, to where she could see the back of Lucius Malfoy, standing next to another figure in dark robes. She was someone who thrived on control. The situation was out of her hands, but at least she had some authority over how she would meet the terror awaiting her. As she passed the other groups of Death-Eaters the few women flicked their robes away from her in disgust, while the men leered at the side of her dirty body on display.

Nearing her destination, she realised with a start that there was another figure, hidden behind Lucius and the other man. Voldemort. Her stomach clenched again, and she almost swayed on her feet. The blonde Death-Eater finally noticed her arrival and turned to meet her with a twist of his lips, but she only had eyes for the snake behind him.

“Aahhhh, Potter’s mudblood friend, come to join the fun.” The Death-Eaters standing close enough to hear chortled softly. “Ooh, but what a brave little Griffindor, looking her betters in the eyes. Shall we teach her the proper way to greet her Lord?” Without waiting for an answer he waved his wand and hissed. At once, Hermione’s felt invisible ropes wrap around her limbs and body. She was dragged down to her knees, her torso pulled backwards and her head back as far as it could go, while her arms were pulled out to the sides so hard she felt her muscles creak.

A ripple of laughter spread through the room, and Hermione’s eyes filled with tears at the searing pain in her muscles. “Now that you have been show the correct way to present yourself, we can decide what to do with you. After we determine the whereabouts of Harry Potter, of course.”

“Shit! Shit! Shit! panicked Hermione. What if he looks in your mind. You have no chance of keeping him out. Voldemort loomed over her, and with bone-deep terror she realised that he was about to do exactly that. A narrowing of his snake-like eyes was all the warning she got before her head exploded with pain.

Flashes of times she had spent with Harry raced by: the boys and her, laughing over some lame joke of Ron’s in the common room; Harry and Ron stuffing themselves at a feast, while she surreptitiously tried to read a book while joining in the conversation just enough for them not to notice and tease her; relaxing together and discussing classes for the next year in her bedroom in Grimauld Place.

Not what he wanted. The images flickered faster: Snape smacking Harry over the head with a thick book in a potions class; Harry with his face scrunched up in pain as he told them he was leaving to rescue Sirius at the Ministry; his face covered with tears as he described Snape killing Dumblebore.

She heard a snarl from Voldemort as he pressed himself in further, still unable to find what he was looking for. Memories flashed through her consciousness so fast she could barely see them, as he invaded every corner of her mind. She became aware of both sounds at the same time; a loud screaming sound almost drowning out a growing shout of frustration. Harry, Harry, HARRY, HAARRRRYY! At the same moment she realised the scream was coming from her own lips, she hit an invisible wall in her mind. Both herself and Voldemort slammed into it with numbing force, and her mind folded in on itself and everything faded to white.

She came to a while later. As she floated back up to consciousness she tried her best to stay still and not to groan at the pain lacing through her head. As soon as the world had stopped spinning she cracked her eyes open to try and determine where she was.

She seemed to be lying curled up on a table, in an unfamiliar room. There was whispering coming from the far end of the rooms, above her head. Voldemort, she realised. She would never be able to forget that snake-like hiss. Whatever was being discussed, he did not sound happy. Hermione suddenly jerked at a familiar name… "Severusss…” With dismay she recalled the dark man who had been standing next to Lucius Malfoy. She hadn’t glanced at him, her eyes had been fixed on Voldemort, but she knew now that it was him. Despite her hatred of him, she shook with the shame at the thought of being seen, trussed up and naked, by the man who had ridiculed her talent and sneered at her capabilities continually for the past six years.

His smooth tone pierced the quiet of the room, and she strained to hear him.

“My Lord, her mind has obviously been tampered with recently, I assume to hide whatever information she possesses that may help us to find and destroy Potter. If my Lord agrees, I would suggest that…” his voice lowered and Hermione could no longer make his words out.

“Yessss, Serverusss, your plan pleases me. I will allow you to take her. I will inform you to bring when to bring her back here, and you will keep me informed of your progress. Make sure you teach her how to behave, and see to it that she is punished for any misdeeds appropriately. If you do not deal with her properly I will have to turn her over to Lucius. His appetites are insatiable and he has been begging me to break the mudblood bitch in.”

“I assure you, my Lord, I will make sure she does not enjoy her time with me. That insufferable know-it-all brat has plagued my life for six long years and I look forward to spending some more time with her now that I am allowed to instruct her…properly.”

There was a rustle of robes as the two wizards drew closer to her. Hermione tensed, waiting for something to happen.

“Ahh,” Voldemort whispered, “I see our little mudblood is awake and listening avidly to our conversation. It looks like she is in need of her next lesson. ‘Crucio’!”

**End Flashback**