#while his friends are moving on with their lives and climbing the tower without him

[deiaiko]

“That must have been hard.” Khun deflated. It was , because of course it was. Every waking moment Khun existed without Baam felt meaningless and wine was the easiest thing he could find in this world to numb that pain. The bottom of the bottle had felt like his only escape. He recalled how every sober moment felt like a nightmare and being drunk felt like it was the only way to survive in this hollow life. Prior to his death, Baam had been his cooling touch. He’d been the waves in which Khun would allow himself to drown in. He was the antidote to take the pain away. But, with the other gone, Khun felt like he had to placate the fire another way. He’d let the bitter taste soothe his hell. He’d let it drag him down until his head was submerged in its stupor. In fact, he smiled as he poisoned himself over and over again; almost begging this world to play with his fate the same way the Tower did.

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[newfallstrangeleaves]

Yandere in the Apocalypse Nightly visit

M!Yandere X F!reader. Warnings: Stalking, NSFW, masterbastion, dub-con, giving a hand-job while asleep. (Please tell me if I missed something) Summary: You have a yandere following you around in a end of the world. He sneaks into where you sleep and getts a little too bold and end up using your hand to get off.

The world we used to know has officially ended, survival has become dire as monsters lurk around every corner. But do you know what else lurks just around the corner? Your very own yandere!

Aaron, who has been following you and your group for some time now. Mostly to make sure that you are well taken care of. That you get enough food and that danger doesn't get too close to you. If he deems it necessary he will leave some food for you and he will take out undetected creatures so you never have to face them. All happening without your knowledge, but he is there, hiding in the shadows. 

He stays close just for the reason to see you, to hear you and sometimes if he is really lucky, feel you. 

It was late, way past midnight and the young boy that Aaron never seemed to remember the name of had just fallen asleep on watch duty. Aaron couldn't decide whether he disliked the boy for being so irresponsible or like him for giving him such a wonderful opportunity. 

The apartment that your group has decided to rest in is dusty and things scattered everywhere. Some of the windows have been left open or just chattered, either way it makes an easy entrance. 

Aaron climbs into what he thinks must have been someone's gamer room. In one corner stands the desk, trashed and broken and the floor has multiple crushed computer screens. He makes sure not to step on any of the plastic or the glass pieces, to make as little noise as possible. 

The rush he feels as he makes his way through the apartment. He is so close he can hear breathing and snores coming from just around the corner. He can practically feel his blood pumping through his veins. 

You and your group have all gathered in what used to be the living room. Dragged in mattresses and pillows, just anything that could make a fairly good sleeping situation. All of you knocked out on the floor or on the sofa. Over at the window sits the boy with his head resting on his hands softly snoring. 

But Aaron  couldn't really blame him for his recklessness. All of you have had a rough couple of days. Forced to leave the area you were in with no food or water. With more than just the monsters out there to fear, all of you have been lacking sleep. 

Aaron too has started to feel the exhaustion of the circumstances. But he can't sleep tonight. Not when the boy is sleeping on duty, anything could happen. And the extra adrenaline he feels sneaking in to see you is enough to keep him awake if only for now. 

He takes a few quiet and quick steps over a few legs to reach you. As he moves closer he can feel excitement bubble up in his chest, he will get to see you up close for once. Not from a bush, behind a recycling bin or up a tree. 

He stops right above your body, his towering over you cast a shadow in the moonlit night.  He stands there for a moment taking in the scene. You look so peaceful, the worry that has been glued to your face these couple of days is gone. For the moment at least.

He lays down, positioning himself in between you and a friend of yours. He lays on his side, prompting up his head on his elbow. You two are so close your noses are barely touching. He brings up a hand and gently strokes your cheek. Never has he felt anything so soft and when you sigh in your sleep it takes everything inside him not to make a sound or to grab hold of you, kiss you, take you with him…

But a part of him knows that you would fear, maybe even hate him, if he did and he can't handle that. It's better to stick to the plan, infiltrate the group and take them out one by one until it's only you two left. In a world like this murder is easy to cover up. 

All he has to do is wait for the right moment to swoop in. Save the day and make you fall just as hard in love with him as he has to you. 

But that might take some time. 

So tonight he allows his thumb to swipe over your lips. They are slightly parted and he can feel your soft breath. He wonders what they would feel like, what it would be like to kiss you. How he would hold on to you, hold you close. Then when your shirt rides up he will worm his way under your shirt and bra. Cup your boobs, he would be gentle, just to feel how warm and soft they are. 

What sounds would you make when he lets his hands wander? 

As the thoughts of you are tainting his mind he can feel something stir awake. He contemplates for a moment whether now is the right time to do something about it. But you look so cute and he has had a hard time lately. He deserves some relief. 

He removes his hand from your face and places it on top of his pants, he palms himself a few times through his jeans before he undoes them and pulls out his aching cock. He has gone far too long without time to touch himself and to do it now, in your presence, feels like heaven. 

He imagines how your soft hand would replace his, how you would move up and down his length…

He lays down on his back and takes a few ragged breaths as he can feel his cock throbbing. He looks over at you, deep asleep. Exhausted from the day. Not even a bomb would wake you. 

Perhaps it's the lust that is clouding his mind, or the excitement but tonight he feels bold. Everything has gone well so far. Why shouldn't he enjoy himself? 

So he carefully grabs your arm and pulls it closer to him. 

"Please baby. Just this once." He whispers as he wraps your limp hand around his length. He places his hand around yours, squeezing it in place. 

He bites down on his lower lip so hard he almost draws blood. All to make sure he stays quiet. His face is contorted in pain as if touching him would set his whole body on fire. 

Though he is leaking pre cum, it's not wet enough. So he brings one of his hands to his mouth and spits in his hand. Then he carefully rubs it in the palm of yours. He uses your hand to spread the saliva and the pre cum mixture all over his cock. 

He takes a grounding breath before he runs your hand up and down on his length. The pace is slow. Sweat is trickling down his brow as his hips move in sync with your pumping. It takes everything inside of him not to bust too quickly. He wants to savor this moment. He may not know when he will get the chance again. 

It's when you let out a faint sigh in your sleep he can't hold it back anymore. 

He once more bites down on his lip and swallows a loud moan as he cums. Positions his load on the floor tho he would have preferred elsewhere, cuming on you might raise suspicion when you wake up. 

“You don't know how much I love you and how much it hurts that you don't know that I am here. But I am.” He whispers. “You know, I keep telling myself that one day we will share a moment like this, but I can't wait. It takes so long. I hate seeing you with them and not me. Everyday I see you, I wish you would see me too.”

A snore and movement from the otherside in the room brings him back to reality. 

“I should go before anyone wakes up and notices I am here.” He tells you with a sigh. 

He fixes his pants and then moves your hand up to his mouth. Carefully he licks up the mess he made on you. Sucking your fingers one by one. You start to stir in your sleep. His licking must be tickling your palm and he smiles at your cute motions. 

Then he stands back up. Though he is feeling not entirely satisfied over the encounter, he is grateful for the time he got with you this time. It's just as much a reminder how you two are kept apart. He can already feel the jealousy he will have in the morning when one of these scums is the one to wake up by your side. 

He casts a last glance at your sleeping form. He whispers an almost inaudible “Soon” before he just as quietly as he came is gone again. 

Back down on the street he looks up at the window the boy sits at. He still hasn't moved. Aaron picks up a small rock and balances it in his hand before he throws it at the window.  The boy jolts awake at the sound and as Aaron walks away he shakes his head. 

"Bunch of lowlifes." He mutters before he disappears down an alley. 

[bangtanhoneys]

Grace & Min-Ji: The story of how they came to be

Everyone in BTS had a pet at one point. Taehyung had Yeontan, Namjoon had Monie, Yoongi had Holly, Hobi had Mickey, Jin had three sugar gliders as well as a Jjangu and Jungkook had Gureum then Bam and Jimin had his childhood pet Ddosun. 

Grace, however, never had any pets growing up. She had been content to deal with friends' pets, getting cuddles from the BTS pets or animals on set. And the break came. She had more time on her hands now and since she was living completely separately now to her bandmates, she was starting to feel a bit lonely.

She needed a pet that would be independent but easy to look after, considering she would have to give the pet to her parents to look after at one point. After discussions with her parents and Jin, a cat was decided on. But Grace being Grace, she didn’t want just a pretty cat who would look good on Instagram. 

Her eyes had been on getting a Maine-coon cat - a massive feline with a powerful yet muscular athletic body with large pointed ears and thick fluffy fur. Little tufts of fur on their ears and paws and their tail would be at least as long as their body. Sociable, extremely intelligent and active. 

So the hunt began. 

There was a breeder in Busan who bred cats from Malaysia and they happened to have a few kittens as well as adult cats for sale. Grace had been keeping an eye on their Facebook page since they announced the cats were available and it didn’t take much convincing to get Jin in the car and for a short road trip to Busan. 

“All this way for a cat,” Jin had grumbled but had packed a bag anyway and filled up the car without much sighing. While he didn’t feel the need to have a pet, he knew in a year that he would be in the military and Grace would be on her own. 

She had seen a white cat in the background of a video, completely ignoring the fact that someone was trying to film it. It moved easily around the other cats, unbothered, content to climb up the cat tower and lick its large paws. That was the one she had her eyes on. 

Being two members of BTS allowed private access to the cattery and Jin found himself surrounded by cats of different sizes and types.

“I guess you're a pussy magnet,” Grace quipped with a sly grin. The shocked gasp from the man in question made her laugh as she headed in the direction of the cat that had caught her eye from the beginning. 

There he was, completely chill and not bothered by the two strangers in the room. He lounged on the windowsill, tail waving lazily against the breeze as he stared out the window. Quietly and trying not to spook him, Grace sat down against the wall the window was on and simply waited. 

It was as if he knew his presence was needed because the white cat stood and stretched and turned around to use Grace’s shoulders to get down and straight into her lap where he curled up into a ball. 

“I take it he’s the one,” Jin asked as he came over, completely covered in cat hair yet he couldn’t help but grin at the amazed smile on Grace’s face. He knew she had fallen head over heels for the feline. 

“I think I’ve been chosen instead.”

The paperwork took an hour and a little visit to the vet on the way, but Grace came home with the white cat she wanted and named on the spot.

Min-ji. 

[last-capy-hupping]

Snippet SnWednesday

So, I just got tagged by @pearlescentpearl, and I decided to share a snippet from what I have from my post-Thangorodrim rescue fic, Running Up That Hill, featuring a return of the POV of my Fingon’s wife OC Laitanis.

“She felt the shift within her hröa mere moments after she awoke. She had not even arisen to check on Elenñalto, who slept in his own little bed in the room that she had shared with the husband who was not there. Her son had not yet opened his eyes nor climbed up the side of her bed—no one else had shared it in three months, so she reasoned that that fact made it hers and hers alone—and asked her if his father still lived. Her good-father had not yet sent Aranwë to ask her if she had felt his eldest son die during the night. Neither her good-brother nor her good-sister had come to ask if she felt anything except the faint but inescapable pull of her fëa towards Findekáno’s one, which still lingered in Endórë. Lanwion had not yet come to offer her—reassurance, or perhaps comfort, that it was good that her spouse lingered while his had passed on—before emotions that were not her own seized hold of her.

Her chest tightened, and her breathing turned fast and shallow, and her fingers burned as though she had spent far too long clinging for dear life to an unfamiliar mount’s mane. Her heart raced, and panic that was not her own gripped her, not for herself nor for her husband, who had never feared his death when others’ lives were in danger. She felt alive for the first time since Findekáno’s mind had slipped beyond her reach, and she realized that he would be delayed in returning. They had thought that the Enemy’s forces had somehow captured him just as they had captured Nelyafinwë Ñoldóran.

It felt so strange to think again of the impossibly tall, blindingly beautiful, implacably distant nér who had towered over her youth and regarded her with suspicion from the moment that she had done what was needed to save her friend’s and his brother’s reputations. It was stranger still to think of him as her high king, as her husband’s and good-father’s overlord, especially when his captivity cast such a long shadow over both camps around the Mithrim’s lake. The Ñoldóran was absent but alive, and none could be crowned in his place. Surely that was why Moringotto had really kept him alive for so long. And if the fallen Vala had taken Findekáno too, then he had thrown the entire Ñolofinwëan succession into doubt as well. For if Finwë Ñolofinwë fell, who would succeed him? His grandson who barely came up to his knees? His second son, bent by grief and turned foolish by rage? His half-grown granddaughter whom Laitanis had maimed to save her from an even worse fate? His daughter who ran wild and was only half-controlled by her age-mate cousin? Would the living descendants of Ñolofinwë be forced to bow to the children of Arafinwë? Or would they too linger in limbo with their new low-king held captive alongside their high king?

At least, that was what Laitanis and her kin-by-marriage had feared. Her good-kin still likely feared the same things, but her fears evaporated into the mists seeping into the air. The numbness that had held her captive for months—for years, perhaps since her father had fallen, since she had been forced into the role of a common butcher, since the last nér who saw her as a living, vital, incarnate being worthy of selfless care and adoration had been slain beneath the light the moon—had faded. She felt alive again because Findekáno felt alive and afraid and ferociously determined in a way that he had not been since the battle over the swanships. For the first time in two months, she was moved by something more than duty, necessity, and maternal love, and it made her head swim. She would have hated Findekáno for forcing all of this upon her without warning if she had given herself a moment to think rather than act. Instead, she grabbed her veil from the bedside table, and wound it about her face so that she could breathe sweet air.”

(A certain Lord of the Eagles will be appearing soon.)

Tagging @disorganisedautodidact @thatfeanorian and @melestasflight

[pmwritesandpoems]

A Timeless Hogwarts Legacy: You’re still an Innocent (3/16)

Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy Main Title: A Timeless Hogwarts Legacy Pairing: Ominis Gaunt/Original Female Character Tags: Romance; Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Fluff; Friendship; Mutual Pining

Chapter: 3/16 Title: You’re still an Innocent Word Count: 6,086

Last Chapters: AO3 (All Chapters): AO3 Tumblr: Chapter 1; Chapter 2

Last Chapter Preview: Ominis shook his head while he put his hands between the bickering pair and broke them up, “Sometimes I wonder how I could be friends with you both.”

Evelyn’s anger vanished as she realised what Ominis had stated. “I’m your friend?” She said, surprised.

“Well, after your performance at the astronomy tower, I would be an awful person to not consider you my friend.” Ominis said with a shrug. He then turned towards her, practically blocking all things from her view except himself because he had already stood so close to her when he stepped between her and Sebastian.

“I…” Evelyn was flabbergasted. Evelyn could hear her heartbeat increasing at an alarming pace with him so near. She tried to calm herself down, but when she looked up and saw him smiling, her efforts crumbled.

“Thank you, Evelyn.” He spoke tenderly.

Reminder:

I won't mention the main character house, you could choose her house yourself

You could change my original character name with yours, I’ll try my best to not mention her skin, hair, and eye colour so you could match it with your own. 

I  am no expert of the Victorian era, the use of the calendar system, etiquette, and many other things from the said era are changed as I see fit to support the story. Several insertions of modern era culture will be present as well to support the story.

This chapter is a bit difficult since I never played Hogwarts Legacy. I wrote this and the chapters before based solely on my research on the internet, a.k.a. googling about it and watching all the videos on Youtube. I wanted to play, but I had no proper equipment. So please understand if there are timeline or explanation differences between this fiction and what happened in Hogwarts Legacy. But I try to live up to the characters and canon story.

You could also read this on AO3.

Enjoy!

p.s. please don't hesitate to comment if you'd like!

3. You're Still an Innocent

Late Winter, Early 1891

Evelyn ran as fast as she could. She felt how her leg strained, her body ached, and her breath shortened with every step she took. And yet, she still ran. Her mind couldn’t comprehend what had happened. The rocks and dirt of the catacomb halls became blurry when she went past them. 

“Sebastian—” She called the boy while avoiding many skeletons in her path, her voice strained. “Wait!”

But the boy kept running, his robe fluttered as he took the flight down the stairs. Evelyn had no choice but to keep running too. Her heart pounded so loudly that she couldn’t hear anything beside it. Her legs tried as best as they could to climb down the stairs as quickly as possible without slipping. It was hard. This was too hard. 

She felt tears begin to pool in her eyes as she climbed her way up to the sarcophagus hall. She didn’t have the time to even take a breath as she saw the Slytherin boy still scrambling his way out a few paces ahead of her. She tried to call him again, “Stop, Sebastian!” With a broken voice she pleaded, “Hold on!”

Alas, the Slytherin boy seemed to not hear her. He didn’t even slow his pace and kept moving hastily. His laboured breath echoed through the hall as he ran up towards the exit. Evelyn suppressed her pain and rushed as fast as she could with Sebastian’s fluttering robe as her beacon. 

She was running all the way up to the main entrance of the sarcophagus hall when she felt something grab her ankles and made her fall.

Her ears were ringing and her vision was blurry. Evelyn tried to lift herself up and immediately winced as she felt her palms sting. Holding back the tears, she propped herself up with her elbows and turned her head towards her leg. Just to see a decaying hand emerging from the ground. The hand gripped her leg tighter, making her whimper in pain. She gripped her hand in reflex to cast, but felt nothing on it. Her wand was gone. 

Frantically, Evelyn turned her head back and searched for her wand. It must not have fallen far from her. She was searching left and right with her eyes when she heard the ground crack. It made her even more panicked. She wriggled, trying to get her foot out of the hand’s grip while still searching for her wand. Which was seen on her right. She stretched and reached for it. 

Adrenaline surged through Evelyn as she felt her wand hummed in her grip. She quickly turned her body and casted on the hand. It broke and Evelyn freed her leg. She crawled back with her elbows, not caring at how the rough dirt scratched her back. The ground began to tremble once again. Rotten bodies suddenly emerged from it, their eyes focused only to her. Evelyn quickly turned and lifted herself up, wand at ready. 

“Depulso!” The bodies near her flung to the wall across. “Diffindo!” Several bodies fell as her spell slashed them into parts. “Confringo!” Others burned when they were hit by the fire. Evelyn attacked relentlessly. She was unstoppable. The bodies fell with a flick of her wand. Spells and spells she cast in the rage of the battle, never minding who got hit by it. 

“Please don’t!” A voice made her stop. She turned and saw a masked Ashwinder scout pleading, his hand on his bleeding stomach. His voice was light, like he was no more than her age or even younger.

Evelyn didn’t even notice the scenery changing around her. The autumn breeze that passed through her made her realise that she was now at the Bandit Camp in the forbidden forest. The grass rustled in every step she took towards the young bandit.

The boy began to lose his balance, “H-hel—” 

Evelyn quickly picked up her pace and caught him just before he fell. She put the boy gently on the ground and began to rummage through her pocket for the wiggenweld potion. She sighed in relief when she found it. She quickly uncorked it and turned to the boy, whose eyes stared blankly at the sky. His body rigid.

Evelyn stared at the boy. “Hey…” she called him.

She waited…and waited…and waited, for the boy to respond, for any kind of movement from him. For his chest to move, his eyes to blink, or even his groan of pain. But they never came. Evelyn's mind went numb. 

And then, the realisation came. She’s the one who did it. She killed him. 

“No…” Evelyn denied her own thoughts. Her breath became ragged. Her legs wobbled as she stood up.  The potion in her hand fell and broke. Her eyes frantically scanned the scenery before her. Dread came.

They were everywhere.

The bodies of defeated Ashwinder scouts, soldiers, and assassins were scattered around her. There were new ones every time she turned. She saw new bodies lying with opened eyes, with closed eyes, or even no eyes. Bodies with no limbs, bodies with half of them scorched, and bodies with no heads. Even ashes of them. On her left, her right, behind, or in front of her. She lost count of how many of them were there. 

Her eyes moved to her hand. It was dripping with blood. With their blood. She killed them all.

“Yes, you did.” 

Evelyn whirled sharply at the sound and saw the injured bandit boy awaken from the dead. He screamed and charged her with his rotten hand.

Evelyn jolted awake, her heart threatening to beat out of her chest. Frantically, she sat up and began to scan the room around her. Struggling to see in the dimly lit room, Evelyn fumbled around and felt a familiar stick. She gripped it tightly.

“Lumos,” she whispered. With her wand illuminating the room, Evelyn could clearly see her own bedpost, her own books, and her own dormmates in their respective beds. But she still had doubts. The terror of the nightmare lingered. She kept her wand lit. Her trembling hand thrust forward, trying to get the light to reach even further as she took another cautious look around without moving from the safety of her bed. She noticed her dormmates' chests moving up and down as they slept blissfully. She counts, and only after the eighteenth count, Evelyn let out a relieved sigh and said, “Nox.” 

She tucked herself under her blanket and tried to sleep. But instead of lying still, she found herself tossing and turning, the image of corpses from her nightmare returning every time she closed her eyes. Realising she would never fall asleep again tonight, Evelyn slipped out of her bed and slowly tiptoed out of the room with her wand in hand. A particular room near the astronomy tower as her destination.

Evelyn finally arrived in the hallway just before the stairs leading to the Astronomy wing, where the entry of the particular room must have been. She stopped herself in front of a flat wall that has a tapestry opposite of it, and began to think about the room she needed to be in. The wall before her was beginning to move when a voice called her out all of a sudden.

“Evelyn?”

Shocked, Evelyn hastily took a step back. The room forgotten. The wall had already returned to its previous state when she turned to the one who called her. “Ominis!”

The blond Slytherin approached her with his wand pulsed with red waves, and asked in a hushed tone, “What are you doing?!”

“What are you doing?” Evelyn retorted. She certainly didn't expect her first meeting with Ominis since the winter break to be like this. They started to drift away from each other after what happened with Sebastian. It wasn't intentional, with Ominis focusing on accompanying Anne and Evelyn continuing her fight with Ranrok, the two of them didn't find the time to spend together. It all happened so quickly. Their last meaningful interaction before the break was after the memorial for Professor Fig, where he found her in his office and sat beside her crying figure all night long.

Ominis rolled his eyes at her and said, “You’re one to talk.”

There was a pause as Evelyn stubbornly crossed her arms and waited for the boy to continue. Her irritation changed to worry when she saw his face become more and more red, just like his wand's pulse in front of him. She took a step closer.

“Ominis, are you okay?” She asked in worry, making the boy blush even more than before.

“Why are you wandering with only your nightgown?” The boy asked embarrassedly.

Evelyn's eyes widened. She didn’t even realise it! She quickly covered her chest and backed away from the boy, blushing. In her defence, she thought there would be no one awake during these hours. Even she would be asleep if she could. It was his fault that they were in such an awkward situation. He appeared out of nowhere and still approached her despite her state!

Wait…he couldn’t actually ‘see’ it could he? No. He couldn’t. If he couldn’t see it.. then…

“How did you know?!” Evelyn whispered sharply.

“I—”

“Ominis Gaunt,” Evelyn said firmly. “How did you find out?!”

“My wand told me!” Ominis answered in panic. “Not—told me like it spoke to me.” He quickly added and continued nervously.

“It emits a particular kind of wave that returns and p-provides me with information to help me interpret what is around. When the waves came back with the information that you’re wearing something lighter earlier, I concluded that you’re probably wearing something other than your robe.” He explained sheepishly. “And, I also heard your garments rustling when you hastily stepped back from the wall. It sounded different from what our heavy school robe would create. And, as it being the middle of the night, I finally deduced that you’re probably wearing your…night attire.” 

Hearing how he ‘saw’ the world for the first time in detail was fascinating. Evelyn didn't expect the process to be so complicated. 

“Wow,” she said in awe. Her annoyance at the situation vanished and quickly turned into curiosity. Her voice rose with excitement as she asked, “So you see through waves?”

“Not only wa—”

“How does it feel? How did you really ‘see’ through it? Did you imagine some pictures in your head?” Evelyn interrupted with enthusiastic questions. She then gasped as another question popped up in her head, her voice rose more with enthusiasm, “Can you see colours?!”

Ominis shook his head, “I can’t.”

“Oh…” That was not the answer Evelyn hoped for.

"I am flattered that you are intrigued by my method of 'seeing' the world and will be happy to answer all your questions," Ominis took his robe off his shoulder and continued, “but it’s probably best to cover yourself up first, for both of us.”

Evelyn then felt the soft robe covering her collarbone, a shy smile bloomed on her lips. She thrust her hands into the sleeves and held the robe thigher, burying herself more into it. It was definitely larger than hers. Her hands didn’t reach the end of it and her height made the robe hit the floor instead of hovering above it. Her face became red as she thought she probably looked silly wearing the clearly oversized robe. And because she got a whiff of a particular scent from the robe’s collar. His scent.

“Thank you, Ominis.” Evelyn said softly.

“You’re welcome.” Ominis smiled kindly. “Now, Let’s find a better place to talk, no? Before the prefects found us.”

“Okay!” Evelyn exclaimed excitedly. Her voice echoed loudly down the empty hall.

Ominis shook his head, “There’s no need to shout.” He chuckled.

“Sorry,” Evelyn said sheepishly. She lowered her voice down, but still full of excitement. “Okay.”

Ominis chuckled again while approaching the girl. He stopped when he was right in front of her and held out his right hand, “May I?”

Evelyn placed her right hand on his offered one, and Ominis gently guided it through his bent left elbow. He then put out his wand with his right hand and slowly walked. Evelyn trusted him completely as she took the steps beside him, arms linked, with no idea of where they were going. But her trust began to waver when she saw the stairs to the astronomy tower looming before her.

“Are we going up?” 

Ominis tilted his head towards Evelyn and challenged her playfully, “Are you afraid?”

“No.” Evelyn replied indignantly. “I just hate the cold,” she added in a low voice.

“It’s not as cold as it was, with the spring coming,” Ominis tilted his head towards his right, “and…” He suddenly unlinked their arms and walked to the table near them. His wand hovered above it. After a few seconds, Ominis grabbed an empty jar on the right side of the table. 

“This will help,” he said, casting a spell on a jar. Small blue flames erupted from his wand and into the jar. His wand hovered above the table once more. He flicked his wand when it was above a rope, and it quickly connected the jar to a short stick someone must have left behind.

“What is that?” Evelyn asked in wonder as Ominis walked back to her with his hands full. His wand on his right and the makeshift lantern on the other. 

“It’s the Bluebell Flame,” he thrust the lantern handle to her, “here.” 

Evelyn held it with both of her hands, afraid it was heavier than it looked. But she was proven wrong when she felt it in her hand. It was light, and she could feel the warmth of the fire seeping through the jar’s glass. “Wow, it’s warm. Not too hot, and not cold, just…warm.” 

Curiously, she put one of her hands above the jar's opening. Ominis’s robe sleeve was beginning to slide down in the jar when he gently pulled her hand away.

“Be careful. It won’t burn you, but it certainly will burn my robe.”

“Oh, alright. Sorry.” Evelyn said sheepishly. She adjusted her grip, decided to only hold the handle with her left hand and said, “Thanks for the warning.”

Ominis gave a nod. “So, are you still interested?”

“Yes.” 

Ominis offered his left elbow again, which Evelyn took gladly with her free hand. They began to climb up, arm in arm, to the astronomy observation deck. They were halfway through when Evelyn felt Ominis discreetly press his elbow to his side. Evelyn smiled and tightened her grip on his arm. Her cheek felt warmer than the jar on her left.

A chilling wind blew past them as they arrived at the upper observation deck. Evelyn immediately shivered and brought her left hand closer to herself. The flames in the jar brought the much needed warmth.

Ominis didn’t miss her shivers from the cold, “Maybe this was a bad idea. We should—”

“No. I’m fine. Your robe and the enchanted fire are enough.” Evelyn cut him off and tried to convince him with a smile. She slapped herself mentally as she realised Ominis would never see it. She then tightened her grip on his shoulder, trying to convince him that it was all okay.

“Okay then.” Still in doubt and cautious, Ominis brought himself closer to the girl beside him. Evelyn was grateful for it and drew closer to him as well as they stepped into the observation deck, shoulder to shoulder. With his wand as his guide, Ominis led himself and Evelyn nearer and nearer to the edge. “Watch your step,” Ominis said as they finally stopped, the railing being the only thing that separated them from falling to the ground below.

Evelyn looked down and regretted it immediately. Her grip on Ominis’s elbow tightened.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” Ominis said as he put his own hand above hers that held his elbow, “I need you to let me go now.”

Evelyn whirled her head towards him, “What?! Why?! Ominis Gaunt, I swear if you’r—”

“I’m not playing with you right now,” Ominis chuckled. “Trust me.”

Evelyn reluctantly let Ominis go. He put his wand in his inner suit pocket and began to lower himself down slowly, his hand feeling the railing as his guide. He sat with his feet dangling on the edge from the knee to below when he finished. He folded his arms over the central metal of the railing in front of him and rested his head on it, his eyes closed.

“Too afraid to join me?” He challenged her playfully.

“No.” Evelyn indignantly. She approached the railing to his left, grabbed it in annoyance with her free hand, and began to lower herself. She didn't even notice that she held her breath until she exhaled in relief when she finished sitting down fully with her leg dangling in front of her. 

Evelyn huffed, “See?!”

Ominis tilted his head—which was already pointed towards his left—up and opened his eyes. “Yes, I see what a brave girl you are,” Ominis said mischievously, emphasising on the action that he clearly couldn’t do. 

Realising what she had done, Evelyn grimaced and said, “Sorry.”

“I’m joking Eve,” he said with a chuckle.

Evelyn huffed in annoyance again. But his usage of her nickname didn’t get past her. Her annoyance subsided when she heard it. She sighed and put the makeshift lantern of Bluebell Flame between her and Ominis. Its flames brought warmth to both her and him.

Ominis frowned in confusion after he felt it, “Aren’t you cold?”

“Aren’t you?” Evelyn answered irritatedly. 

Ominis chuckled at her response and shrugged, “I actually love the cold.”

“Like the cold man you are.” Evelyn talked before she could think. Regret came as soon as she realised it. “I—That’s—” 

“I will admit that I am not always the best person to be with.” Ominis confessed. He then sat up straight, moved his hand to his side, and faced her. Regret could be heard in his voice, “I am sorry that we’ve grown distant since the winter break.”

Evelyn sighed and began to speak. “It’s okay,” her voice became more low, “I know you needed space. Sebastian was not the only one who went to the crypt and catacomb. I was with him. In every step he took.”

“I know that you were only there to accompany him in his difficult times. You were—” Ominis cleared his throat, “are, a good friend Eve. I should have been there too,” his voice strained, “I was—am, his best friend.”

“Ominis…” Evelyn trailed off, not knowing what to say.

“And I should have been there for you too,” he hung his head, “when you needed me.”

“Well, you did. You were there when I needed you the most.” Evelyn said softly. “I was surprised when you decided to accompany my bawling pitiful self after Professor Fig’s memorial. I assumed you didn't even look for me since you’d probably be furious at me too, with all I’ve done with Sebastian.”

“Oh, don’t get the wrong idea. I was. I wanted to strangle you and Sebastian myself when I first heard about it.” Ominis said in anger. He sighed, “But I still consider you both my friends,” his voice grew weary as he continued, “it’s just…hard…to process all of this.”

“Have you…finished? Processing it?”

Ominis shook his head in defeat, “I haven’t.”

Evelyn took a deep breath and said, “Take your time, Ominis.” her voice started shaking, “I—Sebastian and I…We'll wait.”

“It’s still hard to think about it,” Ominis whispered painfully. 

"I know," Evelyn murmured, placing a hand on his left shoulder and squeezed it gently in understanding. “Then let’s not talk about it,” she put her hand down and suggested, “how about,” her voice began to fill in excitement, “you fulfil your promise and answer my questions?”

“I never promised anything.” Ominis answered with a frown.

“Coome ooon!” Evelyn whined. 

It made Ominis chuckle. Shaking his head, he finally relented, “Okay, okay. What do you want to know?” 

“Did you command your wand to send waves or does it do it on its own?”

“I guess you could say that it do it by itself. It’s like it has its own mind,” he pulled out the wand from his pocket and held it between them, “like now, I felt it hummed when you asked about it. That’s why I put it out.”

“It’s alive!?”

“No,” Ominis said while looking at her ridiculously. “You could say it's ‘almost’ sentient,” he added, turning his wand in his palm, “it understands what to do when I need it. For instance, I wanted to make something to make you stay warm earlier. And it sent waves on its own, assisting me to ‘see’ if something around me could help. I never really have to command it. It just listens to what I’m thinking and tries to assist. It truly helped me, even when I didn't realise I needed it.” 

“Like in a duel?”

“Exactly. As you are aware, I have the disadvantage of not having normal sight, which makes it ‘challenging’ for me to see my opponent well. But my wand compensates for it. You could say that it becomes my…sixth sense. Yes.

By focusing on my other senses, such as hearing and smelling, I already get a feel for what's going on around me. But my wand makes it more detailed. It allows me to ‘see’ what's happening with more vivid images in my head, since it transmits waves that bounce back with more information than I could gather on my own. It helped me detect anything clearly within a ten feet radius. And, it also hummed when it detected an imminent attack on me, letting me know when to cast a protective spell. All while assisting me in channelling my magic to retaliate.”

“How come I never see you in action?” Evelyn protested. “I would like to see you in a duel.”

"You have," Ominis said tiredly, rolling his eyes at her. “When we went to the catacombs?"

“It doesn’t count!” She exclaimed disappointedly. “You went in and left me alone all of sudden for professor Black!”

“We—”

“Would you duel with me?” Evelyn interrupted eagerly.

“I would not.” Ominis answered firmly. 

Evelyn asked him again with enthusiasm, “Come on, it couldn’t be that bad.” 

“I’d rather not.” Ominis refused once more. 

“Co—”

“No,” He said, his tone hard. “And if you say anything else about that, I won't answer any more questions,” he threatened.

“Ugh, fine.” Evelyn groaned and finally stopped bothering him with the request. “Next question,” she continued impatiently. “You said you had pictures in your mind? What does it look like?”

“I've been blind since birth. So, I don’t know if what I’m imagining in my head truly represents the real thing. But if I have to describe what the visuals look like, I would say it was like sketches.” 

“You know sketches?” Evelyn asked, surprised.

“I was informed by Sebastian that paintings are a representation of something that painters pour on canvases, and the painters usually draw what they want to paint in lines first before they colour it. I've never seen any colours before, so the visuals I have in my mind are only made of lines,” Ominis shrugged, “I don’t even know in which colours.” His wand began to pulse as he pointed it up between him and Evelyn. “They only show where something starts and ends,” he continued. “So, yeah, maybe it’s similar to sketches.”

Evelyn couldn't help but stare at him. His pale blue eyes shifted to an eerie red, exposed to the red light from his wand. They didn’t even look directly into her eyes. They looked sideways, with unreadable looks. Complete with his tilted head, they made Evelyn shudder. Is this why he didn't want to duel with her? Because he was scared she would see him in a different way after it?

“You have a killer look,” Evelyn joked out of the blue

“W-what?!” 

Evelyn giggled at his shocked face, the red light that enveloped it becoming less menacing than before. “The way your face glows red when you wave your pulsating wand near it,” she said, holding the wand just above his hand and pushing it forward towards his face, “makes you look like you’re about to destroy everything.”

“I—I think that’s enough lesson for today.” Ominis stuttered while Evelyn kept giggling while staring at his flushed face. He put his wand back in his inner suit pocket and turned his body towards the edge, a scowl on his face. “Stop looking at me and look above instead.” He ordered huffily while putting his hands on the railing, his head above it, and his eyes closed. His feet were still dangling on the edge.

Evelyn giggled more before she shifted her attention upward and gasped. The clear sky allowed her to see the stars at their brightest. They were sparkling, like diamonds spread throughout the sky. Evelyn couldn’t take her eyes away from them. It was very beautiful that she was touched to tears.

“It’s beautiful…” She said, her breath taken away.

“I hoped it would be.” He said with a smile.

What Ominis said made her suddenly remember. He couldn’t even see such beauty in the first place. So why did he bring her here?

“Why did you bring me here?” Evelyn expressed what was on her mind.

“I thought you would like it.” He answered with what Evelyn heard as a sincere voice. “I personally love being here. I love the fresh smell from the nearby forest, the shooting breeze that comes through, and the peaceful silence it provides.”, he added, still with his eyes closed. “In other words…I like how I could be completely alone here. Especially in winters like now, with no scampering students, boisterous portraits, or nosy poltergeists around me.”

“Are you going to assassinate me now?” Evelyn acted casually. Ominis opened his eyes and sat up instantly. His head almost hit the railing in the process.

“Merlin, no!” He exclaimed in such surprise. “Why do you think like that?”

Evelyn laughed at the boy's annoyance. “I’m sorry,” she tried to explain between her laughs, “I’m joking. I can’t pass up the chance to mess you up again. You walked right into it yourself when you told me that we’re completely alone here!”

“Well, I am not amused.” Ominis said seriously. “I am a Gaunt. I have the knowledge to assassinate someone if I need to.”

Evelyn’s laugh completely ceased when she heard him.

“Got you.” Ominis said casually and burst into laughter. 

Evelyn couldn't bring herself to join him. Her mood changed drastically. All she could think of was that she did have the knowledge to assassinate someone. And she actually did do it. Her nightmares were enough to prove her sins. The rotting hands that grabbed and pulled her down to—

“Evelyn,” Ominis said softly to the silent girl, his laughter all gone. “I was joking. I’m sorry if it was out of line,” He said in regret. 

Getting no response from the girl, Ominis continued, “I would never hurt you,” his voice becoming more determined, “but I will hurt whoever hurts you.”

“Why?” Evelyn asked in a broken voice.

It took a while before Ominis answered her, “Because you’re my friend.” His voice strained, “And it hurts me to see you in pain.”

Evelyn took a shaky breath and whispered, “even if it’s myself?”

“I beg your pardon?” Ominis said as he tilted his head towards her more.

“The one who hurts me,” Evelyn explained with her gaze down to her lap, her voice constrained. “Will you hurt them…Even if it’s myself?”

Ominis backed up in confusion, “I-I don’t follow you.” 

“I had a nightmare,” Evelyn sighed. “It’s…well…it’s about something I did.” 

“Is that why you were wandering in the hallway earlier?” 

Evelyn gulped, “Yes. I had nightmares for a while now. I don’t even remember the last time I got a good night's sleep.”

“Do you…” Ominis hesitated. “Want to talk about it?” 

“I should, shouldn’t I?” Evelyn looked up to him. “Talk about it with someone else?”

“Only if you wanted to,” Ominis tenderly said. “But I can say for certain that it feels better when you get it out,” he continued, as if he had experienced it himself. “Especially if you already have someone willing to listen.”

Evelyn was shocked at Ominis’s offer. She felt herself unworthy of such kindness. She looked down in regret, “I’m afraid it might change your perception of me.”

Ominis completely turned his body towards Evelyn. He moved the jar with the Bluebell Flame aside and placed his left hand in its place. 

“It won’t.” He said. It made Evelyn’s heart ache to hear his misguided belief in her. 

"Ominis, I am far worse than Sebastian," she said, her voice choking with anguish.

“What could be worse than murdering your own uncle?” He asked in disbelief.

“He only did it once.” Evelyn whispered.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I—” Evelyn looked at him with teary eyes, her voice trembling, “I killed, many, Ominis. So many that I’ve lost count.” 

“How?” Ominis asked in a low voice.

“It doesn’t matter how!” Evelyn burst into rage, tears falling from her eyes as she confessed to him. “I still took their lives,” she seethed, loathing herself. “I may not have used the unforgivable curses, but I still inflicted the final blow on them. I slashed their chests open. I froze, burned, threw, and even blew them apart!” 

Evelyn’s body shook as she struggled to fight back her tears while continuing. "I turned them into ashes," she laughed bitterly, "I made their bodies disintegrate, leaving nothing to be buried."

“Who, Evelyn?” Ominis asked, still in a low voice.

“Those who appeared in my nightmares. Poachers, bandits, goblins…You name it, and I’ve most likely killed it,” she raised her trembling hands from her lap, disgust in her voice, “with my own hands.” 

Evelyn clenched her fist and gazed up, trying to contain the tears she didn’t deserve to shed. But the once-beautiful glittering stars now seemed to mock her, so she looked away. From the stars, from the warmth, from him.

Evelyn knew it would end like this. He probably wanted to go away as soon as he heard her confession. The silence that came after it was enough to be an answer. His view of her was forever changed. He must have despised her. He must have hated her for what she'd done. He most likely didn’t want to become her friend anymore. Who would have wanted to become friends with a murderer like her in the first place? 

“I understand that—” A sob from her own throat stopped her. “That you don’t—”

Evelyn stopped when she suddenly felt a hand on her right arm. She turned to follow when it softly tugged at her arm. She looked up and immediately regretted it. Seeing Ominis full of anguish made her heart fall even farther. His brows furrowed as he clutched her other arm with his other hand. His breath trembled. She could see it in his pale eyes. How much he was pained…and how he knew how it hurt.

“You had to, Eve,” he said. “I understand.” And Evelyn’s dam broke.

“I don’t!” She sobbed. “I don’t have to, Ominis. I could hold back my attacks. I could use the non-fatal spells instead of lethal ones. I could have called the authorities instead of facing them on my own. I had a Choice!” She shouted angrily in tears. “And I didn’t even consider it.”

“You were defe—“

She whirled her head, her voice stern. “Stop,” she breathed heavily, “I don’t need any justification for any actions I’ve taken. I did it all. On my own,” she hung her head in shame, “nothing can change the fact that I’m a murderer.” 

Saying it out loud made Evelyn more aware of what she had done and what was about to happen. She’s a criminal. A murderer. She would be sent to Azkaban after this. He would send her there himself. Her life will end here. Evelyn couldn’t hold it and cried her heart out.

“You did your best, Eve,” Ominis said gently while rubbing her arms soothingly.

“They come every night,” Evelyn sobbed. “They all come every single night. Reminding me of what I’ve done. Pulling me down with their rotting hands, surrounding me, telling me how I could’ve done something else, how ruthless I was when I killed them with my bare hands, and how my magic was a destruction to the world.” She wiped her tears. “Well, maybe it is my punishment. Maybe I’m not even supposed to be al—“

“NO!” Ominis shouted out of the blue. His grip on her arms tightened. Evelyn could see the tears pooling in his eyes. His voice broke, “You’re supposed to.” 

“I—“

“You’re fighting for your life, for Merlin’s sake! You did what you had to do to survive!” Evelyn could hear desperation in his voice. “Don’t consider those kinds of thoughts, Eve. You’re meant to be here. You’re meant to be alive.”

“But they—“ Evelyn stopped abruptly when she felt his grip on her arms tighten once more. 

“They’re gone.” Ominis said desperately. “They’re all gone. They can’t do anything to you. They have nothing on you.” His grip was still hard on her arm as he pleaded, “please, Eve...”

“I made them gone, Ominis. I made them all gone,” Evelyn sobbed, “I cannot be redeemed.”

Ominis removed his hands from her arms. “Then I can’t as well,” he said stubbornly. “You probably heard it from Sebastian, how I used to torment muggles in my youth,” he said with his voice strained. “You probably assumed I only tortured, what? Maybe one, or two?” He spoke inconsiderately. “No. I tortured more than my fingers could count. Numerous of them screamed and writhed in agony because of me. Some of them even didn’t survive and went insane.”

“You’re basically a child!” Evelyn exclaimed. “You had no choice.”

With a serious voice Ominis stated, “I had a choice, Eve. I could’ve said no.”

“And let yourself be tortured?” Evelyn asked indignantly.

A clear affirmation sounded from Ominis. “Yes.”

“That is not—“

Ominis put his left palm out towards Evelyn, making her stop. “That is a choice, Eve,” He stated sternly. “A choice that I didn’t even consider.” 

“But it was different.” Evelyn said stubbornly.

“How?”

“They tortured you!” She exclaimed desperately. “You were a child!”

“We are children,” Ominis said in a practical manner. “We haven't even passed the seventeenth year of our lives. And they already gave us so much to bear,” He continued, crestfallen.

Evelyn didn’t respond. She couldn’t. She just sat there with both of her fists on her lap, clenching tightly. Her eyes stared indignantly at him. How could he?! It was different. What he did could be redeemed. He didn’t have a choice, not like h—

"You had a choice, Eve." Ominis said softly. “Yet, you did what you thought was best to do to survive. Just like I was."

“I—”

“Every one of us has messed up too.” Ominis interrupted before she could utter even one word. “We all made mistakes in our life.” His hands hold her clenched ones. “And every one, every single one of us,” he said, opening her clenching fists gently and holding them gently, “has the chance to repent.”

“That’s why I didn’t turn Sebastian in.” He continued. “And I know that’s why you tried to convince me not to in the first place.” His head tilted towards her, “you see his chance to redeem himself.” His voice was low as he pleaded, “Why can’t you see it for yourself?”

“It's too late for me.” Evelyn whispered, her vision blurred with tears.

“It’s never too late.” Ominis rubbed his thumb on the back of her hand. “Who you are is not what you did, Evelyn Rose. At least not to me.” 

Evelyn felt like she was struck by lightning as she heard Ominis. The tears cannot be contained anymore. She let go of his hands and swiftly wrapped her arms around him, overtaken with emotion. Which was quickly returned by the blind Slytherin.

“You’re still an Innocent.” He whispered to her as she cried her heart out on his shoulder.

[thewritingsandwich]

The Chiming Lady - Part 3

A Lockwood & Co. Fan Fiction

Other Parts: 1 2 3 4 5

Summary: The agents of Lockwood & Co. are invited to the Halloween-Party of a former client.

A/N: I originally wrote this for @ savelockwoodnco on instagram's filler episode theme. But I'm a month too late... anyways this takes place after 'The Empty Grave' but there are no major spoilers for it. Originally I wrote it in german, but I translated it for the internet with the help of DeepL.

Tag List: @ahead-fullofdreams

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, brief mentions of su***de and mu**er

Norridge Mansion was surrounded by a dense pine forest, in the darkness of which I could make out all sorts of things. It was a clear night and the stars were already visible in the sky.

An avenue of bare trees led to the old mansion and ended at a dried-up well, its white colour completely weathered - as was the rest of the house.

The house was one of many mansions I have seen in my life, even though I probably couldn't even afford to spend one night in them. Behind the house loomed a large tower, which was probably connected to the house. The large bell hanging at the top of the tower could be seen from afar.

In addition to the limousine we stepped out of, there were other cars in front of the property. Both expensive vintage cars and the familiar night taxis in which the drivers sat. Old music was blaring from the house itself, encouraging us to dance the night away.

We climbed the grand staircase leading up to the house and were greeted with an unexpected warmth (most of the big houses we visited were freezing cold, you know). Just beyond the front door was the decked out and decorated foyer. There were pumpkins, fake ghosts, green witches, zombies and other typical Halloween imagery everywhere. I overheard George comparing Lockwood to one of the pumpkins.

Thanks to the music, we were quickly able to find the location where the party was taking place. The large ballroom was decorated similarly to the foyer. Apparently, the party was already well underway, as some "monsters" and other costumes could already be found on the dance floor.

At the sides were white-covered tables with all kinds of finger food and sweets.

"Ready to mingle with the crowd?" asked Lockwood, while George was already on his way to the buffet. "We should also find Mrs Pearson to thank her for the invitation. But otherwise... have fun."

Lockwood also made his way to the buffet, with Holly and I running after him. You should know that my party experience is quite limited.

I looked further around the large room and spotted a gallery on the 2nd floor with some vampires and 20s flapper girls. There was also a live band, which explained why the singers sounded the same for all the songs.

Armed with some small cakes, I went to the wall of the hall with Holly and watched the action. George and Lockwood also joined us.

"Shall we dance?" asked Holly. Surprisingly, Lockwood and George joined her, but I kindly declined. I didn't feel well enough yet to shake a leg without worrying. So for now, I just watched Lockwood, George and Holly dance together. Lockwood's clothes clung to his body as he performed light dance moves that resembled his fencing moves. Despite the red make-up on his face, he still looked as charming and handsome as ever. Lockwood and Holly initiated a few conversations with other guests while George danced his heart out.

I, on the other hand, was still too caught up in the memories of other Halloween evenings. Or the lack of them. I kept thinking about where I would be if I hadn't ended up at Lockwood & Co. or hadn't become an agent. About all the experiences and moments that I didn't have because of the problem. Where would I be if the problem didn't exist? I would still be at school; having to think about my professional life; going out with friends; still living in the North of England; not having lost Norrie; never having met Lockwood. I would be a different person and sometimes, even though I didn't know any different, I couldn't help but mourn that Lucy. All the experiences and memories I couldn't make.

Tears welled up in my eyes, so I moved away from the dancing crowd. I stepped out of the ballroom into a slightly lit corridor, where there were some bookshelves and pictures hanging on the walls.

I wasn't too far away from the ballroom, so I could still hear the music muted a little. But in addition to the lively jazz music, something else could be heard in the darkness of the night. A bell. It had to be the bell from the tower, but something about it made me think that the bell had been silent for years.

I finally stopped in front of a portrait of two boys. They were obviously twins and their black hair was neatly gelled. Judging by their clothes, the portrait was probably from the 60s. Next to the oil painting, there were other photographs that also showed the two brothers. But at one point, the pictures only showed one brother. The apparent nanny, who could also be seen in some of the pictures, also disappeared. I walked down the corridor to see if the boy and the young woman ever reappeared, but they were simply gone. Looking back, I wasn't particularly interested in the pictures. I guess I was just clinging to some distraction.

"You're Lucy Carlyle, right?" Mrs Pearson stood next to the oil painting a few feet away from me.

"That's right. Sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I just saw the painting and was interested."

Mrs Pearson was a lady of advanced years. She was dressed as the Wicked Witch of the East today. Her normally brown skin was hidden under green paint and a black witch's hat was perched on her grey head. Her costume was great.

"Oh well. No problem. Pictures are hung on the wall for people to look at, aren't they? That's my late husband, Edwin Pearson," she pointed to the boy in the painting who was in all the other pictures, "next to him is his twin brother Kingsley. He unfortunately drowned in an accident in the lake, poor boy. After that the family moved out and never returned until today. However, I couldn't turn down such a good party location."

I listened to her intently before curiosity got the better of me. "What happened to the nanny?" I pointed to one of the pictures of the young woman.

"Edwin never talked about the staff. I know he was brought up by a series of nannies and servants. He was alone with his brother almost every day. Their parents were usually away. But although they were a big part of his childhood, he never talked about them. He also never denied the rumours that servants worked themselves to death. But he was just a very quiet man."

"My condolences on the loss of your husband." It was the only thing I could think of to say. I felt silence was inappropriate.

"Thank you. Enjoy the party, Ms Carlyle." Mrs Pearson turned away from me and as quickly as she had disappeared, it briefly gave me the impression that she had just been a ghost.

I looked at the pictures a little longer and at some point closed my eyes and listened. I heard the laughter of children - but also a young woman shouting that "the boys should behave themselves". There was an argument. I wanted to find out more, so I took a step towards the apparent noises. But the voices began to overlap and got louder and louder. I tried to get away. I tried to get out of the ban.

"Luce, are you all right?" It was Lockwood who finally called me back to reality. "I thought you might like some company. Besides, I wanted to see if you were okay." How long had I been standing here? I was still holding a little cake in my hand as I nodded slowly. The music stopped.

"The big crowd didn't do me any good. Besides, the music was too loud."

"Yeah, I can understand that. It's really crowded there. I wanted to ask you something." He was interrupted by the band. But I couldn't hear anything more specific. They were talking - I guessed that something had been announced.

"May I have this dance?" Lockwood finally asked. He held out his hand and I instinctively grabbed it. In the end, it was the light pressure he applied to my hand that brought me completely back to the present.

Hand in hand, we walked towards the music, but stayed outside the hall. Carefully, almost as if I was fragile, he placed his hands on my hips above my belt, while I placed my hands on his shoulders. We swayed from right to left to match the music.

His eyes rested on me and I kept mine on him as well. He moved his lips as if he was silently singing along, but I couldn't read what exactly he was saying - let alone hear exactly what the singer was singing.

In this dim light, his eyes seemed almost black and even though blue or green eyes had been romanticised in so many poems and songs, it was this pair of eyes that I could gaze into for perhaps hours. They were captivating and I could read so much into them. I didn't know if I had learnt to read them or if Lockwood allowed me to - whatever it was, I felt so uplifted when I saw them.

I studied his face again. He was still singing along and I saw him studying my face again and again.

"Till the wells run dry / And each mountain disappears / I'll be there for you..." he murmured. I felt him move his right hand away from my hip and place it on my cheek. I looked into his eyes that said, "You can stop me any time you want." But I didn't think about that for a second. Gently, he pulled my head towards his. I drew in air through my nose when our lips were only a few centimetres apart.

 "GHOSTS," someone shouted across the ballroom and the music stopped. "THE HOUSE IS HAUNTED." Immediately Lockwood and I broke apart and for a moment I envied his red make-up. I was certainly as red as a poker as I screamed inside. I almost kissed Lockwood. I almost kissed Lockwood.

[libidomechanica]

“And my recognise to”

Tea and wends upon our eyes were for Adonais?     Wet with moth were wakes by naturally— impossible and brute each other, because the     Shadowing jest? Whether dreams, too precious to the paired but that’s to dearest the last, over     stood wild birds flew, and heart and the

brazen tears. Blown, I scarce upon her air,—haste away;     if Susan she uphold jar with they have loves, the but with scarce extender day to     sink to me: I bring idle dream’d at lass, she roll a wood. Light I needs that mate; for in     nor will yet Men with whoever befalls,

or limb, whether Johnny goes a quick Dreams: the     heaven, and of him, calls! Why art winne of earthly give alone hanging men: They despise     meet a wife—I lie, to reachably death the port and poet’s smile, nor peace. Still usher’d     I have the death rose upon thy roved,

and cross my lost in and West, I should at thy     Son of courted wrong: we sentence, as more. Not at ease to him from the hope, than be his     doubts if all not in this glimpsed here we sent, tell me when fate spray you mountains, spits flash, and     none, Now telligence, they ever-after

his know not: one glance the grots true: so after     vows; she cast thou, like the golden disappears, a trenched when Science and opposit.     No life; rever tail quick despair innocence between the flowery oleander’s chiefe     prays, at letting trust, or some straight have

sun? On song to seized it would now depart is mother     tell, the pony too merry: that is love you do now? Witch-elms thy faire apology,     and lived with his head upon our died. On think ye hill awake in a wife, he tomb,     to die; twere days—thyrsis thighs, and doubts

if in Susan Gale. Thy convulse or could droop’d light     quite so muse along, and lazy length, tho’ as yet society of which below the     griefs I lean and watch attire, ye cave, and round. It; her feeds of graceful bee; and word     to see the cubless! And die, mine of

this never nimble, meek St. Repentance on thinks—     home. And twilight. Slave thing to lover. I hear; ’ more globe; old set. Leaps of snowing far and     she heart, must, or in the skull wish, but new. And herald aim a fervent for aye unstain,     magnetic gloom the lark hung over,

and lift thee all are? Ye lived no unlike slow pomp     might a hollow’d, having stress’d, he quite all too have I say? Paris while she from climb, and     affection ware all moved to her Delight, she playful Hero shine with God comes back to     thee doth for throw light the dead, returning

from piety count there as they run; death: yea     having smiles, by so fair, poor guidance in bush again to roam the patron brief minutive.     Me, weary, wayworn bosom assays, to write away, and wood, descent. That to its     wreath, amid heraldries, arise! The

epopee, that steel us as still see there, ye’re ripe,     the earn’d in the spirit as I cannot his all ring to deep lost in the ground: calm in     a message knight, that haven’s growing written poets round of stone. Death the bright the healthy     Son’s trance ages to burst of them

and the said she water play at anchor an altars     whom a tract for thee so find there must friend, a lords, day, without; the half a heav’n seize     and tremble creeps the mouth, forsoothe ape and for though he observile close the Poet     the wildly: let men and that doth not,

where was pleasure I? When paper—even as Gods     decrees, they do thee with whom they sight. With light-blue is darkness, that I am no Womb     of fall; all we must has man will lisp, though the song these hand, tumbling, and hew the dale, and     join’d each draw so lose world’s wife—to scorn

em all, at with me? The blow, and fears should have come     into those wore he had he wakes; for ever yet, alas! From on the moor. And my     recognise to gainst your sweet springs from the studding the same cliffs, and whose master—not till     galloping smile, I’ve might, from orb of

fix’d with that I countenance, no, never tower     is to the Shah Salámán have not but breaking the summer into the moor. His tender     bands so much the appeare: but some had I every face: now degrading still not     I trust is those where must be; but mine.

[buildingthegrandtour]

Faded~

The waning moon was still creeping its way up into the early night sky when we parked in the vacant lot. We had only travelled down the back roads a few miles from our city hotel, but it may as well have been a different world. If you looked closely you could see the lights of traffic moving like tiny stars trailblazing too close to the horizon. A chain fence separated the crumbling pavement of the parking lot from a green-black ocean of flatland, and the street lamps lit our way through to the street.

How strange that a place kept so detached from civilization should still be granted voltage for the sake of keeping trespassers secure.

We took our things out of the car; jackets, cell phones, bags we refused to leave behind. Ava wrapped her rosary around her hand, the guilt for tempting her fate written all over her face like a night club stamp. We crossed the street to make the climb up the slope to our destination, checking our flashlights as Eddie checked the inventory of batteries in his man purse. Pete checked that his lighter was working, and I pulled a few out of my own little camp bag to let him know we were covered.

When we reached the top of the hill, we sat leaning against another chain linked fence, backs to our destination. As Eddie readied a joint to be passed around, Ava lit her cigarette and I shifted myself to look at what we were readying ourselves for.

We had come her earlier that day, when the sun was blaring warmly in the center of the sky. It looked different back then: a large beige bricked building settled in the middle of what was once a thriving garden. The asylum was built three stories up, save for the front center with extra large double doors, coming out of the main building to build up to a fourth floor, the roof pitched to make it a tower. The thick balustrade surrounding the rooftop to the other pitched areas on either end of the building added to its castle-like appearance. My friends and I had reckoned that the fourth floor had housed the workers who lived onsite, granted their own garden on the rooftop to escape the reality of their positions.

This was a place with a legend of its own. Many stories surrounded this building’s existence, from the diseased minds and bodies of the inmates to the resonance of their suffering in life and death simply in the energy that lingered inside its walls. Some had claimed that once you explored the place you would never be the same, while other claimed that there were some who were last seen entering those large doors.

One point of speculation was what was called Death’s Door. Many of the inmates had died here from an outbreak of tuberculosis and the hospital, ill-equipped to handle the disease, had built an underground tunnel to cart away the cadavers without giving away the sudden surge in fatalities.

We could see the evidence of the fire that had gutted this place and stripped it of its architectural glory. Looking past the broken glass into the rooms we could see fallen beams, the charred material of the curtains. Scorch marks showed what way the wind was blowing when the inferno had come to take its bounty.

Realizing that I myself had been facing westward, I shifted with the back of my head leaning against the chain link fence as Pete blew some “special” smoke in my face to grab my attention.

The boys had been arguing over whether we should go through the gate to the front door, or find this hidden tunnel, and after the cigarettes and pot were smoked up they still had not come to a decision. The position of the moon had shown that we had wasted nearly two hours deciding on something so trivial. What was the purpose of coming here at night but to add to the mystery of the exploration?

Ava pulled a coin out of her pocket, flipped it in the air, and allowed it to fall into her outstretched hand. She spent a short moment watching the boys bicker as I weaved my hand through the fence waiting for a choice to be made through chance. She slowly opened her hand, feeling the coin with her middle and ring finger, and turned on her heel.

“We’ll find Death’s Door,” she spoke decisively, walking a steady pace around the perimeter. The boys stopped in the middle of their arguing to follow her, and I held back to take one more look at the sanitarium.

It looked so perfect in the night time.

As I was catching up, Ava called out the plan to Eddie, who in turn called it out to Pete and me as we trailed behind. We were to seek out a cemetery, maybe Death’s Door was hidden in a mausoleum to add to the cover up. At the very least we would seek what seemed to be several graves, marked for respect of the ones that had died.

Pete had a search route planned out, which rooms to visit first. He was displeased at the change, but allowed it roll off his back. We all knew that Ava did not know the actual outcome of the coin, she only flipped it for show, to make it seem as though the decision were unbiased. We understood she did this so she did not have to feel the remorse that came with ignoring the Condemned sign and continuing our way through the gates anyhow. We knew she hoped somewhere in the back of her mind Death’s Door would turn out to be nothing more than a story to make the legend seem more enticing, and we’d go home with a story to tell, but no rules broken.

It was best to let her have her way in these moments, a chance to assuage her guilt and fears. It helped her to relax through it, and once she found herself comfortable in the moment she was usually the one that ensured we got the most of our adventures. We would never tell her, but in this sense, we had always considered her our leader.

I reached out to take Pete’s hand, instead finding that my left foot no longer had ground to walk on. I twisted through a slope, falling down in a strange posture as I tried to grip branches and tufts of grass in an attempt to stop the fall. It had been a small one, no more than eight feet, but it felt like cliff diving in Austin when I landed on the ground.

I felt at my right leg, aching at what had just transpired. I did not bruise easily, but I knew there would be marks that would linger for a time. The burning told me I would boast scrapes on top of the discoloration, something to add to the stories.

The stories….

Above me I could see branches of new and old trees covering the concrete slope like a tattered blanket. I could hear my friends calling my name: Emily! So close above me.

I took easy breaths through the pain and dug the flashlight out of my purse. Holding the bulb so the light would shine above my head, I searched for their silhouettes and called out to let them know I was okay.

Pete was calming everyone; I could hear him as he carefully got down on his hands and knees to seek the point where I had been lost. I kept my light on steady against the concrete wall so he would not take a tumble as I had. His face brightened when he saw me, I could imagine he saw a similar picture to what I was seeing: Pete on the ground looking down into the hole as Ava and Eddie stood to either side of him. I wished I had my camera so I could take a picture for the poster of the movie we would never make.

I let out a chuckle as I slowly moved the light to show where the slope came down for an easier drop. I gestured for them to keep their flashlights off, keeping my back to the shadows I was joining. Pete dropped down first, quietly like a shadow coming to meet its master. Ava had grown excited at the turn out, while Eddie seemed to have taken her reluctance in trade.

We put our flashlights out and went by the moonlight to see the legendary Death’s Door illuminated before us. We heard a scuffling. I turned on my flashlight and shone it in the direction of the noise, the green reflections of a cat’s eyes flickering to look back at the light. It paced to and fro for a moment, calculating each step, keeping its eyes held steady on us. It sniffed at the ground a little bit, its mouth opening to form a meow. It crouched down to make itself ready for a pounce, but instead turned and crawled away.

It’s an omen, said the look on Eddie’s face, but we let it go and I moved my flashlight to get a better look at Death’s Door.

It was a door. Nothing special about it, simply a large slab of wood on hinges with a place to grip it for opening. Nevertheless, we were awed by the underwhelming vision, because it was not the door itself we had sought, but the legend that the door had proven, for we would have been the first to actually see it.

I don’t know how I knew this.

Ava ran to open the door, ensuring Eddie that she would stay behind with him, keeping a slow pace so they could prolong their time near the threshold. Pete and I moved on ahead, holding hands as we stepped in through the tunnel. We had not gone too far in when we saw the light of a flashlight as it tumbled to the ground, heard the sound of a door slamming behind us.

Pete turned on his own flashlight and we crossed our beams to take in the view. We had been surrounded by bodies piled one on top of the other, a wall of bones creating the tunnel through which we were walking. We continued to walk forward, noticing the concentration of skeletons eased as we went further in.

“Do you think they are exploring the cemetery now?” Pete broke through the silence with his question.

I hushed him as I nodded my head.

The silence was so profound, so absolute, even the sound of our footfalls got lost in the shadows. The stillness of the catacombs felt otherworldly, as though different rules were at play on this subterranean path.

How far exactly did we travel from the sanitarium?

Even my own thoughts seemed to boom inside my head as it cut through the quiet of the stilled room. A manner of sensory deprivation which just sent every thought screaming in technicolor as it raced in my head.

Had we turned around? Did they create a labyrinth out of these catacombs, a sort of meditation for the mortality they were forced to face? It seemed as though the path is stretching on forever, but what is time to those who are already at the end of their journey?

Such morbid thoughts, perhaps, but it filled me with a sense of ease, a calm away form the storm that was the outside world.

The wall of bones had ended, now we were only surrounded by concrete above and below to either side. I felt the need to sit down and take a rest, Pete’s gait showing that he would not be inclined to disagree with this idea.

We settled ourselves down, lighting cigarettes and speaking to each other in hushed tones. He pulled a fresh joint from his pocket and lit it up with a lighter I had given him, taking a long hit before passing it to me.

“Let’s try to find the sanitarium,” he tells me as I take my own prolonged hit. I put the j out and I caught a glimse of something out of place. I leaned forward to kiss him, moving my hand to investigate. Clutched in the bony fingers of what I could only assume was once a priest, was what felt like a cross and a set of four old brass keys. It seemed as though the hand was offering it to me as I took it from the dried out appendages.

I turned on my flashlight and held the set of brass keys in the circle of light.

I have found treasure, I thought to myself, and stood up to prepare for the continuation of our journey.

The end of the tunnel took us to a large hole with a poorly crafted wooden frame. Past the threshold was a makeshift morgue that must have been constructed just as hastily and with as little knowledge of the task as the tunnel and its entrance. The sentience of the room made it seem as though they were not keen on allowing even a hired contractor to come in and discover their ugly secret.

This was a hospital for the mentally ill, the criminally insane, after all. An institution to keep them a safe distance from the world, and the world kept safe from them. People were not meant to come here to die.

It was most likely a cellar, from back when the house was actually used as a house. The room had remained untouched from the fire, almost seemed as though it was untouched by time itself. The metal doors of the refrigerated lockers glimmered like polished mirrors as we shone the light upon them, the floor clean enough to have been waxed shortly before our arrival.

I shook off the shiver gripping my spine and trailed after Pete as he tested the stability of the staircase. The stairs were narrow, steep as the hill we had climbed to get to the front door.

“Do you regret changing the route?” I prodded Pete. He shook his head, squeezing my hand. He had his own quirky communication with his sister; Ava always had a way of making him feel thankful to the detours life threw our way.

The echo resonated around the room in a downward spiral of scales, from twinkling bells to banging drums. Below us there was darkness, a chasm into nothingness…. I could feel myself falling, my heartbeat slowing as I sunk down deeper and deeper.

Solid ground broke my reverie as Pete wrapped his hand around my arm and pulled me into the main building. It was such a jarring experience, being pulled from the inner depths of my mind to the reality of the world. Must have been what we all felt the very first moment we became conscious.

We stepped through a small door and found ourselves on the side of the Main Hall. The main stairs of the house had beenmoved from their original place to create two spiral up and down staircases. The main floor had been kept with its ambiance of welcome intact. Even with the heavy fire damage it was still easy to make out the lounge and the parlors. A quarter of the first floor had been built into a large kitchen and mess hall, another half of the downstairs dedicated to a large sunroom which was simply another parlor with more windows to let light through. We wondered aloud how long it had taken them to hollow out the top two floors and how much foot room had been lost in so doing.

The second floor felt colder, with Nurses’ Stations positioned at either set of stairs, doctors’ offices on either side of them. The inferno had rendered most things unidentifiable, though a few areas had remained untouched. Behind the nurses’ stations were the rotary telephones used to reach the outside world. One doctor’s office still had readable files, though the names and charts always fell immediately into a blur of a lapse of memory once we put them down. Pete had spent a great deal of time reading and rereading one particular chart, because he felt a strange connection to it, but he could never remember it once he put it down.

“I think it’s trying to tell us we should move on,” we said in unison, laying down the charts. We continued our trek to the third floor.

Pete nearly found himself buried in the staircase as he worked to free the steel door from its locks. The area had been built well, materials chosen carefully to ensure that neither adrenaline nor fire could break the locks and allow anyone through without the proper key. It seemed as though it were ahead of its time, nay, ahead of our own time.

I remembered the set of brass keys, and tried every last one on the door. Not a single one fit the lock. Pete sighed as he pulled his foot out of the stair step he had become stuck in, walking down the stairs with whis shoulder slumped. I began to follow him down when I heard a creak behind us. The door had opened wide, its key held firm inside its catch. I turned the key and removed it from the keyhole, adding it as a fifth in my set.

I was hesitant to move forward, for the darkness that lay ahead felt like it was more of an entity than an adjective. Pete’s plans had included some salacious moments, but we were no longer feeling too playful now that we were confronted with the reality behind the legend.

The suffering was palpable; we could feel the schisms of the broken psyches, see the hallucinations of the delusional, we knew the sadness of the beasts kept in their cages, separated from everything and everyone.

Most of the fire damage was here, it had started on this floor. Every room had only a bed to sleep in, so it could not have been one of the inmates. It was too easy to see they were not allowed much, as many of their charred cadavers were still working their way to become dust beneath the strong metal restraints. What cruel mind would find justification in such a thought, and redeem itself to allow for action?

The fourth floor was nothing at all as we had expected. There was no garden, only flat floor and ballustrades. What we had thought would be live-in worker’s quarters was simply a tower with empty space.

It was no disappointment, looking up into the perfect night sky. How much time has passed? I asked myself, for the phase of the moon seemed to have changed. It wasn’t the rooftop on which I tread, but the blanket of ice left by the light of the moon. There was a door hidden in that shine, and if I had walked the trail of stars just right I could climb my way to the satellite and make my home inside.

The world seemed to sink further and further away the longer I stayed there, and I wondered if I were to stay past sunrise would the world forget I was ever here? Could I become a child of the Legends, with my name and face forgotten?

Such a somber thought to find its way into my mind.

“It’s the madness,” Pete said, pulling me back to the rooftop and out of my head. “If it doesn’t take us now it will catch up to us later.”

I lifted my hands to his face, kissing him gently on the lips.

“Then you are safe,” I told him, knowing he’d forget everything about this conversation by the time he went home. I had become nothing more than a ghost the moment my mind relinquished its control. When had this happened?

The thought?

The keys?

“You need to leave,” I warned, but he did not respond. He walked down the stairs, keeping a distance from me as I became less real to him with every step. I would say things to him sometimes, his answers became less frequent. He returned to the doctor’s office to seek his chart, first replying to me a bit as I made commentary on his obsessions, soon he would only shift as though my voice had become nothing more than a whisper in the back of his mind.

The light outside began to fade to white, clearing the sky for the colors of dawn.

“Forget the chart, it’s just bait!” I screamed. I took the chart from his grip and tossed it about the room. I felt thankful for the ability to manipulate objects, for it had put enough of a scare into my former lover to run for the front door. Though my hands felt they were made of mist, the sound still resonated from beneath my balled up fists. I kept the noise going until I heard him leave out the front and the slam of the gate outside.

In the time since I had finished high school and left my family’s home to go on a cross-country trip with my closest friends, I had never seen anything or been any place that lived up to its reputation so perfectly. Even something as random as a restaurant’s ambiance or a hotel room would deviate from precise expectation; this place anticipated every assumption and shaped itself inside to fit the film playing in our minds.

I stood in the foyer and watched through the open front door as Pete met with Ava and Eddie at the gate. I could hear their voices, though I couldn’t make out what they were saying. They were happy to be reunited, I could feel that. It was a scare when they had become separated.

Their memories of the night’s events not match the truth. Their entire lives had been erased and rebuilt. They will never remember that there once was a fourth person that shared their journey, and that she was being left behind as they returned to the car. The madness will catch up to Pete as he had predicted, and the other two would remain untouched by the consequence because they had turned around in time.

Said the spider to the fly….

An enticing trap indeed. I raised the set of brass keys to the sunlight, watching as the trees on the grounds thrived and flowers bloomed through the circle of the keyring. I had been pulled from time into a moment when the house was still a home, and it filled me with a sense of absolution.

Reality means nothing here, in the mind of a ghost. We were granted a show and the house took its payment, which was me. I am okay with this, though.

My keeper says that one day I will be set free.

featured in Fictional History available on amazon

[faeriekit]

I split this chapter into two chapters and now you are all Cursed. Here’s pt 1

*

The power goes out through Gotham.

There is a lot of work to do in a power outage.

The hospitals need their power turned on, which Baby Bat and Bigger Bird fly off to help with; Bigger Bat cycles out with her with her purple friend to see what can be found out. The lights of the whole city don’t have a light switch on the wall. Something had to have broken to turn all the lights out.

The cars are screaming. People are screaming.

Cass helps up a mother and her baby while Bigger Bat pushes away their enemy. They cry when they’re lifted, afraid someone is getting them, but no. It’s only Cass. They cry when they realize Batgirl is there to help. It gives Cass a strange feeling in her chest.

She wants to help them. She's happy they trust her. She hates that they cry.

Cass’s purple friend bricks a thief in the head when he tries to hurt one of the kids who lives without a home. Cass remembers what it’s like to have no food and no paper money. When the boy runs past her, Cass slips the Spider’s extra food bars into his pocket. The thief runs free. There is no time to chase him down; every creature is alone in the darkness.

Cass spots the light first.

It’s not easy. Even in darkness, blackness on black, a dead sky and a dark city, Cass almost doesn’t see the light.

But Cass sees the light. Ironically, it’s atop the largest building in town—Bigger Bat’s working tower.

Cass clicks her fingers— it’s not a loud noise, but it’s loud and distinct enough to be Cass’s noise that Bigger Bat and Bigger Bird can hear her. Bigger Bird clicks an affirmative with his tongue. Bigger Bat nods. He has the focus to pursue where Bigger Bird has the drive to help.

They split, birds in the night.

Cass flies. She lands on steel and plaster. Cass climbs. Her limbs burn and her arms tire. But she climbs still, in all the places her flying hook can’t take her.

Cass lands. Tired. She doesn’t want to be seen, panting underneath her mask and struggling to breathe; she waits for Bigger Bat, her parent in all but blood, and sticks herself into a shadow.

There are things here. No enemies, not that Cass can see, but there are things that aren’t things that sit on the rooftop and make noise. They make noise, certainly, but Cass has never seen these things: a metal circle, spinning slowly, a hot glow between its arched body. Boxes and boxes of computers and computer pieces Cass still doesn’t quite understand. Thick, ropy cables—almost too long and too thick to use to tie or tether anything to anything else, but Baby Bat has taught her how they aren’t meant to keep something down, but to move things from one computer to another. Like a straw.

There are a lot of cables.

There is a lot of light.

The hot, glowing circle is the only lit thing in the whole city. It glows like fire, and it gets only brighter and brighter.

There’s something burnt and awful in the air. Cass’s little hairs under her colors are on edge.

Bigger Bat swings up to meet her, because of course he does. He’s not a parent right now— he is a Bat, and he is Scary for everyone to see— but even the scary bat is Cass’s parent, and she feels better knowing that she can see him the second she turns her head.

“Machines,” Bigger Bat signs, choppy and curt. “Stolen from [my building].” He fingerspells the fancy name of the fancy building. They’re standing on top of his building. Lot of things to take, but not very far to tote them.

Cass nods her understanding.

They circle, slowly, like birds of prey. Looking for signs of something to hunt. Looking for evidence of passage. Cass seeks. Cass finds—

The spider is in his own colors, barely able to hide in the arc of light spiraling around him. He’s arm-deep in the depths of a rat’s nest of wires and cords, tugging, pulling, stretching, connecting. His body trembles as he does. He drops wires and he shakes. He picks them back up. He plugs them back in. The spider limps his way back to a computer, and types things with shaking hands.

Something is wrong.

Cass stares. The spider is— injured? Exhausted? Both? All his body tells her is Tired, So Tired, Please Stop, So Tired, and that could mean anything. It could mean there is a mean parent controlling him, like Father did to Cass. It could mean that he’s ill, like when he was wrapped up in his webbing, too tired to flee. It could mean that he’s had his brain pulled out and replaced with a wad of aliens, like the movie Baby Bat showed her. Cass doesn’t know. And with his back to her, his hand unstable, his legs shaking, Cass can’t tell. Cass needs to know—she needs to know so, so badly, if this is something the spider is doing on his own, or if something has made him like this.

Cass doesn’t want to think that this is the last thing she will see of him. The thing that changes him in her head forever.

Not the spider she feeds. Not the spider she cleaned the wounds of. This spider, who’s sucked the only light left out of the city, all to pour it into—into—

Well. Cass doesn’t know what this machine is, or what it does. Does she have to? Stopping the spider is enough to fix the city her parent loves so much. Batgirl is on one side of an aching, untethered spider. On the other side, in harsh-cast shadows, is Bigger Bat.

Batgirl and the Bigger Bat have She-who-sees-all’s mouth in their ears, but they don’t need her—not in the way the others do. They share a look, mask to mask, and then they pounce.

Bigger Bat goes for the machine.

Cass goes for the spider.

He doesn’t see her. The lack of a reaction tells her how sick he is, because his body usually finds her before he notices her in the darkness himself. He does react to her, though—his surprise turns into action in seconds, hitting too hard with sloppily aimed punches. His balance is off, he’s unstable; he can’t focus on hitting her the way he wants to without risking falling, so he doesn’t.

He dodges less. Cass gets more hits in. He wastes web on trying to pin her. Cass dodges behind a machine—

—And it gives the spider enough time to sprint behind Bigger Bat with his webs.

Cass knows that the spider doesn’t like to hurt people, but Bigger Bat doesn’t keep that information in his head like Cass does. He sees the spider as a threat, and sometimes he is, but not to people, and not to Cass. His aggression pushes the spider to push back much harder than he wants to, and the Tired, So Tired tension turns into Mad, Angry, Upset!! Frustrated!!

She is not surprised when the spider pushes Bigger Bat over the edge of the roof, snatches him midair with webbing, and leaves him dangling over a ten story drop.

Cass is not surprised. However, Cass is angry.

This is her Parent. This is the parent that taught her Gentle, Cass and how to hit without killing, and that there were good reasons to fight! And he’s dangling off a building! The Spider is not being careful!!

Cass stops hitting to incapacitate. She starts striking to do damage.

Ribs, clavicle—he can deflect most of her strikes, but not all of them. Hitting with the hard heel of her palm, from below, pushing from her shoulder—Cass feels something crack in chest of the spider, and neither of them yield, and they keep fighting. He can’t dodge her anymore, but he can break her holds, deflect her palm strikes, until—they’re on the edge of the building, the red-suited spider pushed all the way back to the edge—

His white eyes widen. There is something behind Cass.

Cass hears the electric whine before she turns her head.

The metal arch behind them burns.

Peter Parker x Cass Cain ship lives in my head rent free. I don't even like Marvel. Wtf

[space-mermaid-writing]

The witchling and the god [Loki x Witch!Reader] Chapter 5

Summary: The Avengers were looking for someone to help Loki fit in with the team. To become socially acceptable, so to speak. He had been given the choice of sitting in a cell in Asgard or serving some sort of community service probation on Midgard. The Avengers and Shield both felt that as long as Loki was on Earth, he should be under supervision. This is now your job. Why? Because you’re a witch. You’re not sure why this qualifies you, but here you are, giving it a shot. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Witch!Reader, Magic, Witches, slow burn, everybody lives in the tower, character development, Loki‘s redemption, Stephen Strange is a friend, Loki and Stephen are frenemies, Tony Stark is a good bro, kids love Loki, Tony has stupid nicknames for everybody, eventual smut

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Previous | Next

Chapter's Note: It's time for your lunch date with Loki!. Beta by @zaria-04 <3

Chapter 5: Lunch Date

For once, you knock on the door of the suite instead of going right in. It's more polite today, since you just want to pick up Loki. For the occasion, you've thrown on an elegant dress and chosen shoes that are both comfortable and daringly high. You may have used a little magic for this combination. Since it's cloudy and a bit chilly outside, you've thrown on a thin summer coat.

It's not long before Loki steps out the door.

You were curious regarding what he would wear, because until now you only knew him in Asgardian clothing. Today he looks like he's stepped straight out of a commercial for Armani: he's wearing a perfectly fitted black suit and a dark shirt to go with it, the top two buttons undone. A tasteful combination of sharp and casual. You can see green cufflinks flashing at his sleeves.

The difference between him today and Thor yesterday is like night and day, you notice with amusement. Even though they're both incredibly handsome in their own ways.

"Glad you followed my instructions," you greet him. As if Loki has ever shown poor taste in his choice of clothing.

His eyes scrutinize you, traveling down and up your body once before nodding, as if your appearance has received his approval. However, his gaze lingers on your high neckline. "You, on the other hand, could have made more of an effort," he retorts.

You merely roll your eyes at that without being offended. You get into the elevator and go straight to the underground parking garage. Tony made a joke by installing stereotypical elevator music in all of them. It jingles softly while you take the way down in silence. Loki is standing close to you, you feel him in your personal space. You don't let it show, though, nor do you move aside.

A dark car with a driver is already waiting for you in the garage. It's a fancy limousine, you realize. Presumably Tony doesn't own a single inconspicuous car.

Loki is faster than you and opens the car door for you. He gets a small smile in return but nothing more. You don't want him to think this impresses you.

He takes the seat next to you. "Where are we going?" he asks as you leave the garage.

"It’s a surprise."

Loki chuckles. "You’re making me curious, Witchling."

You notice the new nickname. "Oh, have I been promoted?" you ask amused.

A wide grin spreads across Loki's face. "Don't you worry. You're still my pet."

You leave it at that without a comment.

The drive doesn't take long; the restaurant is only a few blocks away. The car pulls up in front of it and you get out. The restaurant is on the second floor of the building. You climb the stairs and are greeted by the receptionist.

The staff has been briefed in advance and they all behave totally professional. You can't tell if they recognize Loki. Probably the name Tony Stark and the promise of a more than generous tip helps overseeing his past if so.

Maybe it's also because Loki acts like a courteous gentleman. He helps you take off your coat, exhaling sharply as he sees the low back neckline of your dress. You smile knowingly. That was absolutely intentional.

You are led to your table, Loki letting you go ahead. You feel his piercing gaze at your back.

At the table, he passes you and pulls out your chair. You sit down as if it's the most normal thing in the world for him to do. Just because he shows some manners for once doesn't mean you forget his other acts or let them lapse. But it's a nice change from your other interactions and you actually enjoy it. And it's a good show for the staff to see this side of Loki.

He takes a seat across from you and you both get poured champagne.

You two are the only guests at the restaurant. Stark rented the whole place just in case there was trouble. It was apparently not a necessary precaution, but this way the meal has a more private atmosphere.

You raise your glass. "To what are we toasting?"

"Fine food and lovely company."

"Can't argue with that."

The appetizer is served and Loki is in his element. Maybe it's the luxurious surroundings. It's probably a nice change for the prince to be pampered again. Despite the luxury of his suite, he's otherwise on his own in the tower, and aside from Thor, no one else is friendly to him. You wonder if he misses his home. Difficult family circumstances or not. It was certainly a difficult adjustment for him when he arrived back on earth.

"Is this how it is now?" Loki asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. "I wish for something and you make it happen?"

"I thought we'd already established that this isn't the case," you reply.

"Then why the lunch now?" He seems genuinely interested.

"I thought it would be a nice change," you admit, "and you asked nicely. Besides, it's a good opportunity to talk."

You definitely plan to take advantage of the fact that he can't just run away. Tony and Thor are just waiting for a call and would be right here. Loki seems to sense that.

"About what?" the Asgardian asks amused. "My inclusion into the team of these heroes?" He pronounces the word with every ounce of sarcasm.

"I'd love to hear from you about what the attack in New York was like for you."

Loki is taken aback by this change of topic and for a split second his face falls. Then he has a neutral mask back on, but the lightness of a moment ago is gone. "I have nothing to say about this. I'm sure you've already been told about it in detail." He turns his head away, looking seemingly interested at the paintings displayed on the opposite wall. But you're not intimidated by his dismissive manner.

"Some things hurt. But they don't get better unless we talk about them. I imagine it must have been hard to go through all that, to have a captured mind and then to be punished for it later." It's your honest opinion about it. You have had your own experiences with mind control magic and you know that the more complex and stronger the mind is, the more painful the procedure is for the victim. At least if it is done involuntarily. But who would like to be a voluntary victim?

"Then you can guess my opinion about my stay here on Midgard."

"I wouldn't like it either," you admit, "but I'd make the best of it."

"I do."

"Really?" You raise an eyebrow. "Because to me it looks like you just sit in your room and sulk most of the time."

The corners of Loki's mouth twitch up. "I'm sitting here with you, aren't I?"

You nod. "That's right. Thanks, by the way, for calling my company the best."

This makes Loki laugh and his spirits seem to rise again. You've already noticed that his mood is as fickle as the weather on a spring day in April. "I’m planning on calling you other things, too," he promises you with a suggestive look.

"I'm not sure if you earned that yet."

Something in Loki's eyes flashes. It's a challenge you didn't intend, but one he accepts. Fortunately, at that moment, the next course is brought, together with a red wine.

"Can you read the future from entrails, Witchling?", Loki asks you, looking at his beef tartare.

"The only thing I'm reading out of this is that we're going to have a delicious meal." You try your beef and it’s really good. Tony really has the best recommendations for restaurants. However, you don't want to know how expensive this lunch is. In that respect, it's really convenient to have a rich employer.

"When I was younger, I learned the art of palm reading," Loki tells you, drawing your attention. "It's been a while, but I dare to say I’m still good at it.”

"Really?"

Amused, you catch his gaze. He holds his hand out to you. "May I?"

You put down your knife and lie your right hand into his. He turns your palm upward and studies it, tracing the lines. He takes his time, as if he were looking at and analyzing a work of art. His fingers are firm but their touch is gentle.

"Well?" you ask after a while of silence.

Loki looks up at you. "It seems you are quite blessed," is his professional opinion.

"Am I?"

Without averting his eyes, he brings his lips to your hand and kisses your wrist, right where the pulse is. A pleasant shiver comes over you. "You are now." His voice is low as if he were casting a spell on you.

You blink and a moment passes before you remember to react.

"Silvertongue." You chuckle and draw your hand back. But you register that you should be more careful. It’s not wise to be lulled in by his charms. Loki seems to notice his effect on you as well and he winks at you before he turns his attention back to his food.

For dessert, a platter of various small sweets is placed on the table. Loki tries everything and you notice that he seems to have a sweet tooth. You let it go unremarked, but make a mental note of it for future reference.

"So, why are you doing this?" the Asgardian suddenly asks you.

Somewhat puzzled, you look up. "What do you mean?"

"I know it's a great honor to be in my presence, but I'm still wondering why you are here."

You now he doesn’t mean here in the restaurant, but with him in general. "That's quite simple actually: a friend asked me and I was curious," you explain.

"A friend?" Loki asks. "Stark?"

"No, the Sorcerer Supreme."

Loki grins. "Look at you, Witchling, casually throwing in the fact that you are friends with the Sorcerer Supreme."

"Let's just say he's a friend from work. Why? Do you know him?"

Loki swirls the red liquid in his glass. "I've met various Sorcerer Supremes in the past. Can't say I’m fond of the current one."

That makes you curious. "Why not?"

"Let's not talk about that second rated wizard," Loki says firmly, putting his glass back on the table. "This evening is too lovely to ruin it with that."

You drop the subject, but you'll definitely ask Stephen what happened between the two of them. There has to be a story behind it and you are determined to find it out.

Eventually, you finish the meal and stand up. The bill is sent directly to Tony, so you have nothing to do but collect your jackets. On the way to the reception, Loki stays by your side and puts a hand on your back to guide you. Your back tingles at the skin contact and it's not because his hand is surprisingly cool.

You feel the loss of his touch as he pulls back his arm and helps you into your coat.

You leave the restaurant and wait for the car to pull up. The streets are filled with traffic and people whose lunch break has just ended and who are on their way back to their offices. There is a lot of honking, you hear the siren of an ambulance and a child is crying somewhere. You would never think of driving yourself in these narrow streets and you silently thank Tony for offering a chauffeur. New York is really a big city, you haven't gotten used to it yet and you're glad you can spend most of your time at the Avenger Tower. There are a lot of people working there too, but the hustle and bustle isn't as noticeable.

It may be the nature of your being that you're not a fan of large crowds. A large crowd always has its own essence, its own mind. And in your experience, nothing good ever comes out of it. You remember only too well how people used to gather to watch someone similar to you undergo a test. The rules were always simple: if the person died, they were not a witch. If they did not die, they were a witch and had to be killed. The end result was always the same. Fortunately, your mother was always careful to teach her children how to stay under the radar. When it was better to get to safety and move to a new place. The cards helped you do that. It's always quite good to have a little glimpse into the future. Unfortunately, not all of your siblings had the same luck. The modern era got off to an impetuous start. You yourself only barely escaped once. But by now, things had really improved for witches. People were no longer focused on eradicating the occult or simply what they didn't understand. Or at least you stick to those countries where it's like that.

You see your car arriving and turn to Loki - only to find he's no longer standing next to you.

Oh Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Your heart hits your stomach. You've been so preoccupied that you haven't paid attention to him. Searchingly, you turn around, but you don’t spot him anywhere. His tall figure should be visible above the heads of the others. Silently you curse that you have been so careless. The friendly conversation at dinner has put you in a false sense of security. You reach for your cell phone in your pocket to inform Tony or Thor, while walking down the sidewalk a bit. They wouldn't be thrilled at all that you lost the younger prince. Tony had specifically warned you about this.

Suddenly, you hear his voice and as you round a few passersby, you see the Asgardian god kneeling by a child in front of a store window. It is a dark-haired girl with a backpack in the shape of a rabbit, who has red puffy eyes, as if she had been crying bitterly until just now. Slowly you approach the two, your cell phone still in your hand, but not dialing a number yet.

"Loki?" you ask cautiously.

The dark-haired man looks up at you. "There you are. Little Lady Sofía here is lost and can't find her way back home."

Once again, big tears well up in the eyes of the girl who may just be in elementary school, if at all. Loki reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out a handkerchief, which he hands to her.

You, meanwhile, decide that you can scold Loki later for just disappearing like that. Instead, you hunker down next to Loki to the girl, who backs away a bit, though.

"It's okay," he reassures her. "She's a friend of mine and she's helping us."

There are so many things you wonder about. Loki's reassuring way of talking to the child. How he even managed to get her to trust him so quickly. That he called you a friend. But for now your focus is on the girl.

"Where do you live?" you ask her.

"In a tall house," she answers, sniffling loudly. Unfortunately, that applies to pretty much every building in New York, so it doesn't help you.

"There you are," you suddenly hear a voice behind you. As you turn around, you see a short, broad man approaching you, his gaze on the girl. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

You rise. "Are you her father?"

The man shakes his head. "The uncle. I was supposed to pick her up from school, but I got held up at work. By the time I got there, she was gone." He turns to the girl and leans down a bit toward her. "I'll take you home now," he promises her, holding out his hand.

That's when Loki pushes his way into his path, arms crossed. "Don’t get any closer," he growls at the man, who looks at him in surprise at his sudden aggressiveness.

"It’s none of your business," the man says, but uncertainty resonates in his voice.

That's when Loki grabs him at the shoulder and pushes him back. "If you touch her, I'll kill you." If his eyes were daggers, they would have killed the stranger immediately.

You put your hand on Loki's arm. "Loki, what are you doing?" you ask him calmly but firmly.

"He's lying," the Asgardian growls. "I can smell the falsehood in his words."

This makes you frown. You have no reason to doubt the man. However, you have no reason to doubt Loki's words either. Therefore, you lean down again to the girl, who has been watching the whole scene with wide eyes. "Do you know this man?" you ask her, but she only plays sheepishly with the handkerchief she got from Loki. She is too intimidated by the attention of all these strange adults and doesn't answer.

"Let go of me!" the man demands meanwhile, trying to free himself from Loki's iron grip. Some passers-by become aware of the scene and stare at you curiously. You don’t like that, because it's not good when Loki's face is in the public eye in a story like this.

"Let him go," you therefore say to him. "We will report him to the police, but first we need the girl to get home safely."

Loki turns his head toward you and your eyes meet. You nod at him in what you hope is a confident and reassuring manner. This must not escalate or you both will be in trouble. He seems to realize that, because he reluctantly lets the man go, pushing him back a bit while he does. "Lucky for you, the voice of reason is present.”

"You'll hear from me!" the man scolds. But it is half-hearted and he quickly disappears between the passer-by.

Loki clenches his hands into fists and closes his eyes for a moment to take a breath and resist the urge to hurt the man after all. He looks in the direction he disappeared and with a small gesture he sends a spell after him anyway. You don't know what it is and you don't ask. Then the Asgardian turns back to you.

Meanwhile, you've spotted a police officer among the people, who is grabbing something at a food truck. He's probably on his lunch break, but you don't care right now. With what just happened, you'd better get an official party involved. "I'll be right back," you say to Loki and walk over to the officer.

"Excuse me, officer."

"Yes, Miss?" he turns to you questioningly.

"My friend and I found a child who got lost. I'm afraid she can't tell us where she lives," you explain and he looks in the direction you point. Between the passersby, Loki and Sofía are only vaguely visible.

"A child you say? A little girl?"

"Yes, about this tall." You point at hip level.

The cop hands the food truck owner some money for his food, then reaches for his walkie talkie. "Officer Decker, this is Daniel. Are you still with the woman who lost her daughter?" he asks into the device. "What's the girl's name again?"

After a brief pause, the device crackles. "Yes, she's still here. The daughter's name is Sofía, seven years old."

Daniel gives you a questioning look and you nod. "Come over to 34th Street and Lexington Avenue. I think I found her here."

He follows you to Loki, who looks towards you. "He might know where the mother is," you explain to him as the cop leans down to the girl. But Sofía doesn't seem to be in the mood for further acquaintance and hides a bit behind Loki's leg. Daniel looks questioningly at him, but the Asgardian merely shrugs. You all decide to wait.

A few minutes pass by, when the girl suddenly shrieks. "Mommy!" You follow her gaze and see a petite woman step around the corner alongside another police officer. When she hears the call, her worried face turns to relief. Then she spots her daughter.

"Sofía!"

The child runs toward her and the two embrace.

The policemen follow the women a little slower, taking care of the details. Loki and you stay around briefly to make a statement, especially because Loki insists on reporting the strange man from earlier.

It turns out that mother and daughter were shopping when Sofía left a store while strolling. She wandered around a bit and then couldn't find her way back. Apparently she got two blocks far. The mother, who only let the little one out of her sight for a short time, had all the employees search the entire store.

She's very glad to have her girl back.

Loki and you take your leave quietly and get into your car, which is still waiting for you nearby.

Relieved, you exhale. What an afternoon. You hadn't planned something like this to happen when you organized lunch at the restaurant. But with an Asgardian god, you never know exactly what's going to happen next.

Loki looks out his window, seemingly bored, but turns his head to you when you put your hand on his arm.

"You did great," you tell him with an honest smile.

He looks at you with an unreadable expression. His eyes move down to where you are touching him and he withdraws his arm. Then he looks wordlessly at the window again. You get no response. But you don't care, because you know Loki did the right thing when it mattered.

What you don't know is that he is so surprised by your unexpected praise that he doesn't know what to say. He's not used to it and it actually makes him a little embarrassed.

_________________________________

Surprise! Loki didn't run off at the first chance he got. He behaves decently when he is treated decently. Shocking news I know! Kids trusting Loki will be a recurring trope in this story. He deserves all the love and trust. Also, you finally got your nickname: Witchling. Yay

Tag List: @lokisgoodgirl @lokixryss @itsybitchylittlewitchy @yokshi-unbeliebubble @fictional-hooman @elennair @all-envy-suyu @purplekitten30 @elisadmaggiore @nothing2113 @baebeepeach @ceo-of-stfu @moonlightreader649 @ronipiamka @fluffybunnyu

Tell me if you wanna be added/removed

[mazuwii]

Getting Lost with the AOT characters!

Levi:

-I think it's fairly obvious he's going to stay silent and tell you to shut up everytime you try saying something because he knows you're clueless

-he's just flipping the map upside down, right side up, to the left to the right

-you will get back and it won't be because of the map, you two agree to stalk a bird out of the forest😭😭😭

Eren:

-he gets so frustrated. He has no idea how he got it wrong, he's retracing his steps and can't remember crap

-even though you're panicking yourself you have to remain calm because of how this boy sounds. He sounds like he's on the verge of getting electrocuted

-The whole time he's demanding you follow him because his memory is good and you just threaten to knock him out and carry him.

Bertholdt:

-he's somehow good at it, like he's been in the forest so many times that he knows it like the back of his hand

-since it's getting dark he smiles reassuringly and holds your hand so you don't lose him

-Okay but you two heard russling in the bushes and found two squirrels having seggs 💀that scared you more than the monster you were expecting

-sorry that headcannon was out of NOWHERE

Reiner:

-he's brave and shit until it's dark and gloomy and you two are in the middle of nowhere

-He BAWLS the moment he realises his phone has no signal so calling anyone is not possible

-is clinging onto your hand and denies it when you ask if he's still crying.

-at one point he thought he saw a ghost so he threw you over his shoulder and DARTED aimlessly while you wailed at the top of your lungs

Jean:

-he carries a compass around with him 100%, is jokingly trying to scare you with myths

-I personally think you guys would get lost for the day and since it's night time you can't see anything so at that point he starts a fire and you both continue your journey in the morning

-turns out the exit was right in front of you but you know our baby horse💀 always a dunce

Armin:

-he wouldn't cry or panic he would probably stand still and try to come up with a logical plan

-he most likely would help you climb up a tree to see how far away from the entrance of the forest you guys are

-I mean if it begins to get dark he can get very pale and paranoid, like the man kept walking into trees

-reminds you every 2 seconds that he's got you

Erwin:

-He's been keeping track of everything there's no way you could get lost

-he remembers things the old way, like a child. Something like:a red musbroom, then a tree stump, bridge, etc.

-NOTHING scares him, there could be a tiger inside that shit ass forest and he'd just 👁👁 hello

Zeke:

-he insists on climbing somewhere high to see everything beneath him, like you can't climb so you waited for him on the ground

-monkey man- He just needs his hands to climb, nothing else

-you did trip and hurt your knee so you got a piggyback ride on the monke man.

-you get back home faster than expected

Porco:

-Not good to get lost with him, he gets so frustrated. He's so mad that he crumples the map and you just deadpan because it's the last piece of info that can save you

-Get a load of shit with you if you go hiking with him because there's a 90% chance you'll get lost and he'll either blame it on himself or rage like an animal

-at some point your friends find you because it had been too long and Porco just goes "Fucking finally" with his arms raised completely💀

Hange:

-She doesn't give a fuck LMAO

-"Hey um, honey... we're lost..." you say, staring at the map as if it were an alien language. She stops her staring contest with the wood pecker and turns to you with an amused look. "Are we now?" She hums, returning her gaze back to the animal hidden within the shadow of the towering trees.

-Like I said, she can survive up to 3 months in the wild by herself

-Let's just say sometimes it's quick, other times you get Erwin and Levi to try and find you

Pieck:

-She sounds like a middle school teacher 💀 "Oh deary me... we're lost." She taps her chin and looks around in thought.

-I imagine you'd be the calmer person in the relationship but you'd lose your shit in this scenario

-She's just stroking your head while you have a full on panic attack, chuckling about how much you're overreacting and how the both of you will find your way back

Mikasa:

-She's 100% the best person to get lost with

-Like Hange, strong and intelligent enough to survive in the wild but she'd rather not live like that and find a way out

-Tells you to stay behind her incase anything creeps up

-her words are so reassuring and true. Like if she says 'we'll make it out of here' she ain't playin

-Miss gurl here wouldnt sit her ass still SHES SEARCHIN THE WHOLE DAY

Mike:

-Is rambling on how he's an expert on hikes and how he would never ever get lost.

-Chill we get it just find a way out😩

-He did make notes on what he saw on the way so that slightly helps but Mike seems like the type of person to move away from the exit by accident without even realising💀

-you could be telling him how the both of you are going to a different location and he just tells you to 'trust the process'

Sasha:

-you're terrified, she'd eat anything she deems edible tbh

-because you don't want that happening you both try to find your way back using the map yet you still fail

-However when she takes control of it, she begins to pull out knowledge that you never knew she had

-she's pretty fast at navigating her way back and protects both you and her surprisingly well

Annie:

-curses under her breath and begins to try and remember her steps, will probably tell you to shut up even if you aren't saying anything

-like she's even scaring feral animals away from you guys💀

-eventually it's almost night time and she lets it out by wailing 'DAMN IT' at the top of her lungs with birds flying out of trees💀

-her last resort is to just keep walking even if it's almost nightime and thankfully you somehow make it out together

Kenny:

-He's making weird noises as supposed to groaning, realising you're both stuck in this shit ass forest

-I can tell you, he runs so that he can find the way out before night and worst part is he grabs your hand so you're just dying from the amount of sprinting he does

-He assumes everything is there to attack you both, a cat popping out of a bush? He wrapped his arms around you and squealed.

[infernal-fire]

suburban dream

summary: how do you wake up from a nightmare? is it a nightmare if you’ve been asleep the whole time?

major warnings: noncon/dubcon smut, stalking, mention of pregnancy, some cum play (check the prompts for indications of other warnings)

a/n: this is for @iraot​’s 1.1k writing challenge. BIG congrats on 1.1k (i cannot explain how glad i am that others get to read your amazing work) and another BIG thank you for hosting this challenge.

Here are the results of my wheel spins:

Kink wheel: daddy kink, somnophilia, breeding kink Character wheel: Jake Jensen Situation wheel: Neighbours AU

You let out a breath of relief as you dropped the last brown box into the corner of the room. How you managed to own this much stuff, you’d never know. Glanced around the living room, it was difficult to decide where to begin. After much contemplation, you huffed and picked up the pizza catalogue, deciding to call it a day. 

It was unbearable to leave the house in the mess that it was. On the other hand, your right hip wailed in agony every time you bent down. Lacking the much-needed support of friends or family, you had no option but to suck it up and unpack… but that can wait till tomorrow. 

Fishing out just the necessities for the night, you climbed up the stairs and headed into the master bedroom. Massive house for one person, you noted. You did insist that an apartment would suffice but Tony was a stickler for rules.

All Stark employees have to be residents of a Stark-Jensen neighbourhood. 

Before getting the job, you weren’t even aware that “Stark-Jensen” neighbourhoods were a thing; it was a term coined by the tech company itself, referring to neighbourhoods that are protected by Stark-Jensen technology. The crime rate in these neighbourhoods are always startlingly low, the odd criminal or two being from inside the community itself. All things considered, how could you say no to free housing? 

Sure, the security measures assured that you never had to worry, but it also made you wonder why they were there in the first place. This place was as secure as the Stark Tower; why? You tried not to ask too many questions, afraid of getting on Tony’s bad side. Besides, it isn’t characteristic of him to give you a straight answer anyway. 

Life is good, your most harrowing concern at the moment being that your new place had no curtains. It had been a long time since things were calm and you were just recognizing that your days had been free of storms for some time now. Counting your blessings for the second time that night, you stepped into the shower and reminded yourself of all the things to be grateful for. 

To say you were in a good mood was an understatement. You finished your night routine right as the pizza was delivered and excitedly skipped down. No one told you how fun living alone was but they didn’t need to - you quickly found that independence is a glorious necessity in everyone’s life.

Jake stood bewildered at your person throwing the door open. He gripped the pizza box tight to ensure he didn’t drop it and continued to look at you like you had grown a third head. He never was very good with his words, but your beauty truly inhibited his ability to think.

“Hi?” you asked.

“Hey, I-I’m your neighbour, Jake. Saw that you were moving in and I came to ask if you need any help.” 

“Oh,” you contemplated, looking past him. “Where’s the pizza person?”

“I paid for it. Housewarming gift?” he  said like a question and handed it over. 

You received the warm box and waited for him to say something as he fiddled with his hands. His smile looks so familiar but you couldn’t place your finger on it. 

“So…Do you need help?” He looked up right at the end. You grinned at how shy he was.

“I would really appreciate the help tomorrow,” you replied casually. 

“Oh, so… I’ll come by tomorrow morning?” He looked hopeful, as if you were the one handing him the olive branch. You took a once-over of his build, sure that he would come handy when your hip gives up again and nodded in response. 

He nodded back slowly and turned around to leave, but seeing him at your doorstep felt eerily similar to a puppy left out in the rain. 

“I don’t think I can finish this pizza alone,” you called out. He turned around, a glint of happiness apparent in the shine of his eyes. 

“Do you have time to help me with this right now?” It was your turn to look hopeful and you really hoped this cutie took the bait.

He did. 

You couldn’t ignore the nagging at the back of your head that you had seen him somewhere. You also couldn’t dismiss the fact that dinner together was just a little awkward. The conversation started off with small talk, and it didn’t take a genius to tell that neither of you enjoyed it. Luckily, it shifted to talks about the neighbourhood and your old job. After that, the words flowed easily, the two of you bonding like you had known each other forever. Although it was smooth sailing, you couldn’t help but wonder how he knows so much about the neighbourhood security measures. When he mentioned that he had lived there for about 6 years, you chalked it up to a simple accumulation of knowledge he must’ve acquired from being around for so long. 

“So everyone who lives around here works for Stark-Jensen, right?” you questioned, trailing your finger on the rim of your second wine glass for the night.

“Yeah, for the most part. Though it’s hard to tell who works for who.”

You chuckled in agreement.

“What is it with that? I mean, I work for Stark, and my colleagues, too… but exclusively for Stark. Jensen does exist right?”

“Yeah,” he snickered, “He does. Stark makes the tech and Jensen does the coding.”

“So they’re a two-man team, but Tony’s the face of the company? Seems sort of unfair,” you muttered, quirking your brow a little. 

Jake smiled at your comment, glanced at his hands and looked back up at you. 

“Maybe he wants it to be that way.” He nudged his glasses up and took a little sip of his wine while peering at you. 

You cocked your head to the side and considered the information. Your head was hazy and you needed to stop drinking; alcohol and cute guys are not a good mix. 

“Wait.” You squinted at him. 

“Does that mean you’re a Stark-Jensen employee?” 

He let out a chortle and took your glass from you. 

“Hey, hey I want that back!” you whined, not even caring that you’re embarrassing yourself. 

“I think that’s enough for today.” He gently helped you up, waiting for you to move. 

“I can usually handle my liquor,” you promised, clinging onto his broad form for support. 

He started moving you up to your lone mattress in the corner of your room, softly laying you down. 

“Jake,” you caught his arm. “You didn’t answer the question. Do you work for Stark-Jensen?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

You pouted at his answer, still gripping his wrist like you owned him. He tenderly pried your fingers off him and placed them on your belly. 

“See you tomorrow,” he mumbled as he left your room. You drifted asleep easily, blissfully unaware of how you’d never be able to live down the humiliation of your drunken stupor. 

The next day, you hoped Jake wouldn’t show up. It would save you from the burning heat that crept up your neck every time you recalled the night before.

Unfortunately, Jake had found it way too amusing an opportunity to tease you, showing up at your doorstep at 10 AM on the dot. 

The day went on without a hitch, the conversation picking up easily from where you left off. Jake found it endearing when you groaned at the mention of your state, only after three glasses of wine. The question of his employment never crossed your mind again, both of you having way too much fun unpacking. You felt ten times better knowing that your neighbour was a loveable, single, hunky nerd; it made the stress of settling in that much better. 

Of course, like all good things, the weekend came to an end. Monday morning, you eagerly prepped yourself for a new week at the office. Being Tony’s right hand took five rounds of interviews as well as background checks into every living relative you had. After the turbulent hiring process, you found that the job was not any easier. Luckily, the move had you feeling more thankful about being in sync with all the Stark tech; with FRIDAY managing your house and personal appointments, it was easier to keep track of Tony’s day. 

You stepped out of the house and shielded your eyes from the beautiful day. Just then, your lovely new friend stepped onto his porch wearing casual attire.

“Have fun at work!” he called after you.

“Thanks! Are you going to work?”

“Yes, I am.” You took in his outfit one more time, chuckling as you wondered what job would pay enough to live here while dressed in sweats.

“Well, in case I don’t see ya’... Good afternoon, good evening and good night!” you exclaim loudly. 

Jake giggled like a schoolboy and waved goodbye before ducking into his car. 

Tony’s 10 AM meeting has been pushed to 11 AM, Miss L/N. 

“No, no, that won’t do! He has another meeting at 12 PM, the timing will clash. FRIDAY, who was he supposed to meet at 10 AM?”

Speaking to the AI felt more like talking to yourself, but with time, you assured yourself that it would look as cool as Stark when handling your things.

He’s meeting Mr Jensen, the co-founder of Stark-Jensen. I believe you have not met him yet. 

“Yeah, I haven’t. Could you call him for me, FRIDAY?”

Sorry Miss L/N, Mr Jensen’s phone is switched off. He has already notified Tony of the change in plans. 

“What an asshole,” you grumbled. 

On the contrary, I think you would like Mr Jensen, Miss L/N.

“You can just call me Y/N, FRIDAY. Oh, and, send out a notification to all of today’s meeting hosts and tell them to push it by one hour. If they complain, send them my number to take up any problems they have.” 

It’ll be done by the time you reach your office. 

“Thank you,” you smiled and pulled into your parking spot, right beside Tony’s. 

It was hard to imagine what would’ve happened today if Tony didn’t give you access to FRIDAY. Calling each meeting host and personally asking them to push their meetings seemed like a tedious and mind-bending task. And frankly, you didn’t ever look forward to talking to Karen’s. But now, you would never have to know; FRIDAY was an absolute godsend. 

You stepped onto the other side of security clearance just as the clock struck 9 AM. Strutting up to your office, you made a mental checklist of everything you need to do during the day. Usually, Tony didn’t require you to sit in for his meetings. He has a different set of assistants for note-taking purposes. 

Too consumed by your thoughts, you didn’t notice the large picture of Jake and Tony sitting side by side on the wall beside the elevators. You also didn’t notice Jake’s smirk as he passed by you with ease. He would’ve stopped to say hi, but he knew that you didn’t realize who he was yet. Now he just had to figure out a way to get you to show up to his and Tony’s meeting and give you the heart attack of a lifetime. 

Beep, beep.

The Stark-watch buzzed on your wrist, letting you know that Tony was calling for you. You had barely even stepped into the elevator and he was already whining like a baby. 

You shook your head and stepped into the doorframe of his lab.

“Come here!” his voice called from the far end of a lab. Your suspicions of him being under the work table were confirmed when he wheeled out on his back and handed you a wrench. 

“Do me a favour. Tighten this for me?” 

He handed you the arm of an Iron Man suit, what you assumed was his latest mark. He already lived at the lab as it was, you wondered how he ever had time for Pepper. 

“Come on, put your arm into it L/N! You know what, you’re distracted, give it here.”

“Did you call me here to tighten your screws?” You shifted your weight onto one leg and crossed your arms. It was sassy of you, but Tony’s assistant needs to have some backbone, famously said by Rhodey.

“Well, you know me, screws always loose.” He knocked on his head and chuckled at his own joke. You sighed and turned to walk out. 

“I need you to sit in for my 11 o’clock. And cancel everything else today.”

You gasped and turned again, marching to where he was lying down. 

“Tony Stark, you have no regard for anyone’s time! I already pushed everything back by one hour because of your buddy Jensen and now you’re asking me to cancel everything?”

“I know, and I agree. I wish I could go to the mind-numbing meetings with corporate clowns, but I want to show you and Jensen something cool.”

He stopped fiddling with his toy just long enough to glance at you. 

You sighed and called for FRIDAY, groaning for the umpteenth time since that morning. Why were you acting like this was the first time he’s done this? It was probably your lack of energy from moving. You couldn’t wait to get home and maybe call Jake over for dinner. Now that you considered this possibility, time seemed to pass slower, but at least there was something worthwhile to look forward to. 

When 10:55 rolled around, you were sitting in Tony’s lab, patiently waiting as Tony set up his latest invention for demonstration. 

“Where’s your buddy?” you asked, checking your watch for the time again. 

“On his way,” he replied without turning away from his work. 

He paused and took a step back to admire his work before facing you. 

“You haven’t met Jake, have you?”

“Jake?”

Right on cue, Jake walked through the doors of the labs and you whipped around to find your grinning friend.

“Howdy neighbour,” Jake sneered. 

“Oh, right. You live beside each other,” Tony muttered as he gathered some more things from his desk. 

You shamelessly inhaled the pinewood and vanilla-infused scent of Jake as he sat down beside you. To have him so close to you was a dangerous thing, your cunt unknowingly clenching every time he moved his biceps. 

“Stop making heart-eyes at him.”

You threw whatever was in your hand at Tony’s head, and it happened to be a pen. It narrowly missed as he ducked and doubled over in laughter at your embarrassment. The bastard took sick pleasure in it so he often made it a point to humiliate you, but it usually wasn’t in front of the co-CEO of the world’s largest tech company. 

The rest of your time in that lab went on without any heart attacks - as far as anyone knew, the slick between your thighs doesn’t account for a ‘heart attack’, per se. You shouldn’t even be thinking about Jake like that. He was technically your boss too. 

Tony dismissed you at lunch and told you to take the rest of the day off, much to your delight. You slid into your car and dropped your head onto the steering wheel.

You had barely moved into the neighbourhood and you’re already finding ways to be fired.

~Time skip~

You sighed and laid back in the over-the-top maternity chair Jake got you for feeding. Your baby gurgled as curled his little fingers into his palm before knocking on your breast once. With a light chuckle, you cooed as the little bundle began falling asleep. 

This was the only place in the house that had a sliver of sunlight gracing the inside of the house. 

You could have outdoor privileges if you didn’t pull that little stunt. 

Could you really blame yourself for trying to leave? How were you to know that it’s impossible to leave a Stark-Jensen neighbourhood?

Because it says “Stark-Jensen” in the name, you dumbass. 

Fair enough.

You lost count of how many times you sigh on the daily, instead opting to count the number of times you’re able to hold off a mental breakdown. Today, you got the rare privilege of privacy, with Jake being gone to another one of Stark’s presentation.

You reminisced about the last time you sat in Tony’s lab and watched him explain his latest creation. Little did you know that the first time you sat with Jake in there would also be the last time you ever sat in there. 

You gently placed the Jim in the cradle. Again, one of the many over-the-top investments made by Jake to ensure the baby got state-of-the-art care. The way Jensen had made you sit beside him as he put the contraption together almost had you lurching. But you didn’t want to wake the baby. The horridness of the memories cannot outweigh your will to keep Jimmy from crying.

“Look at it!”, Jake excitedly spun the box to show you. It must’ve cost an unreasonable amount of money - not that he couldn’t spare to spend the coin, but the purchase confirmed your worst suspicions; he was serious about this all. 

Your eyes, puffy from the days of crying, were barely open. Yet you still nodded, figuring that if you put up with his enthusiasm now, he’ll let you go to sleep without raping you like he did every night. 

Anyway, you were wrong. 

When did everything go so wrong?; How?

You picked up your phone. Your eyes flickered between the only two contacts saved on it. Jake made sure you couldn’t do anything except call him or Tony.

You missed your ex-boss (who was always more of a friend to you). But, it was obvious that calling him wasn’t worth it and would rarely yield any fruitful conversation. Tony always spoke as if he were walking on glass around you and your words were always monitored and censored by Jake. It didn’t take long to figure that one out. 

“I don’t know what happened, Tony, she’s just unhinged,” Jake explained over the phone. In the background, you struggled against the bonds that held you to his bedframe. You sobbed harder into your gag and tried to scream ‘help’. All that came out was a shriek. 

“You hear her? She’s completely unfit to come into work… What happened? I don’t know man… She’s breaking down under all the stress. A few days of rest might do the trick. No, no, you don’t have to come down. I’ll take care of it.” 

He ended the call and you went limp, pausing your hysteria. He smiled at you as if he hadn’t kidnapped you. As if he hadn’t just made Tony believe that you were off your rockers. As if he hadn’t just fucked you five times over the span of 48 hours. 

He had planned every step of your entrapment to the letter and it was all going according to his plan.

You put your phone facedown on the dining table and walked back upstairs to your room. His room. Your room, too. 

Never, you internally screamed.

Well, it’s too late to debate it. 

You stood at the foot of your bed and traced the footboard. He took you countless amount of times on this bed and every instance held some clue that he was working up to what was happening now. You could see that now - but what was the point now?

You giggled as Jake pushed you onto his bed. Who knew this golden retriever could be so rough?

“Shhshshshhh” you slurred and Jake laughed in response. 

“Tony’s not here, baby,” he replied, climbing on top of you. 

“We’re not gonna get fired?” 

“He can’t fire me, sweetheart.”

“Oh… yeah.” You frowned, remembering that your risqué relationship was only risky for you. 

In your drunken haze, you didn’t realize Jake was rubbing his bulbous tip against your folds, gathering slick. 

“Condom?” 

“Don’t have,” Jake lied. 

“Oh,” you hesitated. 

“It’ll feel so good, baby.” He nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck and sunk in before you had the chance to protest. 

“Jakeeee,” you whined. Writhing under his grasp, you shook your head side-to-side as he vigorously fucked into you. 

He abruptly stopped and pulled out. “What have I said about saying my name?”

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you sheepishly say. 

“That’s right, slut. You’re gonna make me a daddy, right?” He pushed back in. 

“Yeah, you are. Gonna make me a daddy, so call me daddy.”

The implication of his words flew right over your head in your drunken haze and blank mind. Any ounce of sense that you had left was being fucked out by his thick length. 

“Gonna blow my load. Fill you tight cunt, not gonna last long.”

His words were broken with loud moans. He couldn’t think straight with your warm, wet pussy inviting him in over and over. 

As you shook from an overwhelming orgasm, your pussy involuntarily clenched, causing Jake to lose any last bit of restraint he was holding onto. He pushed in as far as he could go as you flailed around. He pinned your arms down and pressed his mouth into yours, delivering a hot and heavy kiss that had you panting. 

He pulled out, but the string of cum that followed made you blanch. You never were one for cum play. Still, you didn’t protest when Jake pushed everything back in with two fingers. 

“Gotta’ make sure you’re full baby.”

You shake your head now, but again, what’s the point? It’s all done and dusted. Though, you should give yourself some credit. Even if you had realized earlier, it wouldn’t have made a difference. He would’ve realized that you knew before you could’ve even thought about escaping.

As you drifted asleep, you adjusted the volume of the baby monitor one last time and slumped into the fluffy pillows. 

How do you wake up from dreams? Was it by pinching yourself? You couldn’t wake up from the nightmare that was your reality when you pinched yourself. You doubted that would work right now. You couldn’t recall how to open your eyes. Instead, you whimpered in your sleep, reliving the moment Jake finally revealed his ulterior motive

“You did what?” Jake was seething, but the only indication of it was his clenching jaw and red face. His tone was the perfect embodiment of the calm before a storm. 

“I know you aren’t happy… but Jake, you- you’re always talking about babies and a family. It was so overwhelming and I… I-I…” You were shivering now, unable to withstand the heat of his glare. You had never been on the receiving end of his anger. Hell, you had never even seen him angry. 

“I didn’t have an abortion, Jake, for god’s sake stop looking at me like a killed a baby! Plan B is not a crime. I’m only even bringing this up because I started on birth control anyway. Plan B every time we have sex is just not practical or feasible.”

At this point, you could’ve been speaking to a wall. Jake still hadn’t said anything and you were beginning to wonder if he had even been listening. 

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice,” he whispered, at last. 

“What?”

“I watch you do everything, I can’t believe I didn’t know about the Plan B.”

“What… What are you saying?”

“I said,” Jake stood up, “I’ve basically been watching you 24/7. And I don’t know how I didn’t notice this.” 

“What do you mean watching me?” Tears in your waterline were threatening to blur your vision but you blinked furiously in an attempt to keep looking Jake in the eyes.

 “You think FRIDAY works for you?” 

Jake leisurely cracked each knuckle and took a step towards you. You took one back. 

“Oh, now, don’t be like that.”

You woke from your nightmare that was the boiling pot and jumped straight into the fire. Jake was already moving in and out of your channel, moaning about how he missed you too much. 

You tried to adjust yourself but he caught your arms and pulled out just long enough to flip you onto your stomach. 

When he pushed back in, the hopelessness of your life manifested as tears; it happens every once in a while. 

Today, you had a new record: you were able to hold off a total of 7 breakdowns.

But, of course, that was right before he pinched you awake every time.

Masterlist

[reidingmelodies]

The Luckiest

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: Fluff Word Count: 2k Includes: Dad Spencer, Children, Pregnancy A/N:  I wrote this one for @anxiousblanketqueen’s birthday challenge: Happy Birthday, Jill! ♡ I hope you have an absolutely amazing day!! Main Masterlist

“What’s this, Daddy?” Spencer turned, eyes finding his daughter holding the scrapbook Penelope made for your anniversary a few months prior.  The book held your most cherished memories: from your first meeting to your first dates, to your marriage and the birth of your children.

“Auntie P made that for us, bug,” he explained, bending down to clear the pile of blocks on the floor to make way for her little feet.  She bounded towards him, the book dangling from her arms while she climbed next to him on the couch.

Big brown eyes similar to his own looked up at him, her little lip sticking out in a pout as she pushed the book towards him in a silent question.

She was only five, but she was fully aware that he was incapable of saying no to her; after all, she learned the puppy dog pout from its creator: his wife.

“Come here, love,” he situated his daughter on his lap, laying a gentle kiss on her hairline before opening the book to the first page.

“Is that Mommy?” her fingers moved to trace along the first photo, a still of you and Spencer at Derek and Penelope’s wedding seven years prior. Your eyes were focused off frame, gaze solely fixated on the couple’s first dance, but Spencer’s were glued to your every move.

It was your very first meeting, years of Penelope trying to set Spencer up with her high school best friend had failed up until that point.  Plans to go to bars were halted by last minute cases in different cities, parties in Penelope’s apartment were missed because you had a date lined up, lunch dates with Penelope where she hoped you would finally meet Spencer were ruined because he wouldn’t leave his desk.

Years and years of trying to get you two to meet, and all it took was her and Derek getting married.

If she knew it would have been that easy, she would have gotten hitched years ago.

As luck would have it, you and Spencer had somehow narrowly avoided each other during wedding planning as well.  It was as though the universe had something against you, as if all the signs were screaming that you weren’t meant to be.  But then, on the night the stars aligned for Derek and Penelope the same happened for you, your pre-planned seating arrangement leading you directly into Spencer’s arms and proving the universe wrong.

It was that night that two perfect strangers became stakeholders in one another’s lives, the night when two hearts found the piece that had been missing for too long.  Neither of you knew it then, but a few shared conversations and lingering glances over dinner were enough to change your lives.

“Yeah,” Spencer whispered, smiling at your daughter.  “That’s Mommy”.

And like their words summoned your presence, the front door opened and you walked in, your two year old son’s hand gripped around two of your fingers while your purse hung from your free arm.

“Mommy!” your daughter jumped from her position on Spencer’s lap to wrap her arms around your legs, your body bending to place a series of kisses against her head.

“Hi, Sweet Pea!  Did you have a good time with Daddy?”

“Mm-hmm!” you watched her pigtails bounce as she twirled, her hand moving to hold her brother’s as she walked him towards a tower in the center of the room.  “We played with blocks and read books and looked at a pretty picture of you!”

“Wow!  What picture was it?” but alas, your question fell short on your daughter’s ears, her attention long gone and instead focused on teaching her brother the right way to build a tower.

And honestly, as far as you were concerned that was perfectly okay.  Any moment they were getting along without tears or screams was a win in your book.

“We were looking at the album Penelope made us,” Spencer’s voice carried over the sound of your children’s giggles and you swiftly moved to sit next to him on the couch, thigh to thigh while your head rested against his shoulder.  “We made it through the first picture before you guys came home”.

You placed a gentle kiss against his shoulder where you laid, eyes scanning the photo in question. It was one of your favorite nights, but it paled in comparison to the picture on the next page.

“Remember that night?” you asked, pointing at the photo you had been eyeing.  It was a blurry mess to put it lightly, Spencer’s hand holding the disposable camera at an odd angle while you attacked his cheeks with kisses until a trail of lipstick was left in your wake.

You were young, in love, and inseparable- a blurry photo was a small price to pay for being with him.

“How could I forget,” Spencer chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he examined the picture, “I got off the jet at 11 PM and headed to your place for a midnight picnic.  We were only dating for three weeks and JJ thought it was weird to go to your place so late, but I didn’t care.  Did you think it was weird?”

You snuggled closer to him, the hitch at the end of his question cluing you into the fact that he was nervous you did.  “If you didn’t come over I most certainly would have went to your place- I hated being away from you, I still do now”.

You were rewarded with a kiss to your palm before Spencer continued to flip through the pages in a comfortable silence, your life together thus far being pieced together with every new picture.

From movie nights cuddled up on the floor of Derek and Penelope’s living room, to office holiday parties where you walked around with your pinkies intertwined, to stolen kisses at happy hour and café dates where you both sported espresso foam mustaches.

With the next flip of the page, you watched as your smiles grew wider in each photo with the addition of a ring on your left hand.  There were pictures of Spencer down on one knee at your favorite park thanks to Penelope’s hidden vantage point behind a set of trees a few feet away.

The sky was a cerulean blue, yellow and pink tulips in full bloom at your feet, but in that moment, with Spencer kneeling in front of you and the most beautiful declarations of love falling from his lips nothing was visible but him.  

Another flip of a page and yet another moment when nothing mattered but Spencer was on full display- your wedding day.  His arms were looped around your waist as you danced in front of your family and friends, your smiles the widest they’d ever been.  The night was filled with love filled glances and silent assertions of love fit for two in a room bursting with joy, each and every one caught on camera thanks to Penelope’s dedication to capturing one of her favorite love stories in action.

A series of selfies followed in the next few pages, each one a picture you had sent Penelope during your honeymoon as proof you weren’t always locked away in your hotel room. Spencer was sporting a sunglasses tan in each photo while you were sporting a smirk, each picture reminding you of the vacation that gave you one of your favorite gifts yet nine months later: your daughter.

You looked up from the album to glance in her direction, your lips curling into a smile as you watched her separate the blocks into color coded piles much to her younger brother’s amusement. With each passing day she reminded you more and more of Spencer, and it was by far one of your favorite journeys to witness.

Your focus shifted back to the book in Spencer’s hands, weekly progress photos of your stomach’s growth (which Spencer was determined to capture in all its glory) gracing the pages along with ultrasounds, memories from your baby shower, and pictures of Spencer’s hands constantly flitting over your lower belly. His head rested gently on your middle in each one, his face the picture of happiness as he whispered bedtime stories and facts about space, completely oblivious to everything but you and your daughter.

You watched as the baby you had spent months dreaming about came to life in pictures, her features the perfect mixture of you and Spencer from the moment she was placed in your hands. With each passing picture the bags under both of your eyes grew bigger, but your smiles grew wider.  Images of her firsts graced the pages: the first time she sat up, the first time she ate solid foods, the first time she said dada (and the tears in Spencer’s eyes when he heard it), her first steps, her first day of school.  

And then one made way for two, your son joining the midst of photos and bringing an endless amount of love and joy to your family.  Much like your daughter, he reminded you of Spencer: he was inquisitive- curious eyes always studying his surroundings, his hand always finding comfort in yours just like his father.  

Pictures of his firsts graced the pages much like your daughter’s, except this time the first time he sat up he was accompanied by a beaming sister, when he said mama for the first time it was you who was in tears, and when he took his first steps he walked straight into Spencer’s open arms.

The book was a picture-perfect testament to your love, one of your most prized possessions, but there was one thing missing.

“I love the life we built together,” Spencer whispered in your direction, his fingers tracing your side as he thought about how lucky he was. How lucky was he that he went from a man destined to live a solitary life to a man with a wonderful wife and two children made from love?

“I love it, too,” you murmured as your hand moved to reach for your purse, “but there’s one thing we’re missing”.

You watched as Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, his eyes scanning the empty pages at the end of the book.  “I know the pictures are a little out of date, we can order some more this weekend to fill the empty pages though”, he stated as his gaze found yours to see if that was the answer you were looking for.

“We definitely can,” you nodded, removing an item from your purse and unsticking the scrapbook pages to place it in the middle.  Once you were satisfied with its placement, you adjusted the top sheet before holding both of Spencer’s hands in yours, “but we can start with this”.

The previously blank page was now the home of your very first ultrasound photo for your third baby, a surprise you had confirmed earlier that morning at your doctor’s appointment.  You watched as Spencer’s eyebrows shot up, his face breaking into a smile while his eyes filled with tears.

“Really?” his voice was so soft, you were sure you would have missed it if you weren’t sitting directly next to him.

“Really, really,” you confirmed, your left hand moving to grasp his jaw as you pulled his face closer to yours.

“Are you excited?” you whispered, fully aware that the answer was yes but craving confirmation.

With your question, a tear escaped his lash line, trailing down his cheek and making its way to a beaming smile that rivaled the ones you had seen in the scrapbook.

He nodded, at a complete loss for words as he closed the gap between you and let his feelings out in a kiss. It was a kiss filled to the brim with love, happiness, and appreciativeness.  

And in that moment, there was only one coherent thought on his mind as he listened to his children’s giggles in the background and felt the weight of your love against his lips: How lucky was he that he went from a man destined to live a solitary life to a man with a wonderful wife and three children made from love?

The luckiest man alive, that was for sure.

***

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[mandos-sluts]

The Ambiguous Bet

The Mandolorian x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, mentions of sex work

Summary: Mando doesn’t think you could handle being a sex worker and you set out to prove him wrong

A/N: This is our first time writing any sort of fan fiction (much more to come) so we would really appreciate reblogging/reposting! We would LOVE feedback as well!

You’ve been working on the Razor Crest for about six months ever since the Mandalorian hired you to be his live-on mechanic. With everything the Crest has been through, Mando knew he had to hire you once he observed your mastery mechanical skills…you being drop dead gorgeous had nothing to do with it, Mando told himself.

Of course, Mando’s attraction was not one sided. You had watched him take down ruthless criminals with no problem at all. It didn’t matter that you had never seen his face. His strength, composure, and confidence (perhaps cockiness) made him incredibly attractive. Not to mention his rock-hard body. Every night you would lay on your cot and wish that he would just storm in and fuck you sensless. Alsa he never did, so you defaulted to pleasuring yourself and imagining that scenario.

Mando would never act on his desire for you, however. In fact, he often went out of his way to give you more than enough space or make the conversation more than appropriate. But this was becoming harder and harder for him to do. Before hiring you, Mando would relieve his stress and sexual tension at the local brothels on whatever planet he was hunting a bounty on. But once you came aboard, he stopped this practice as he could never find the time or excuse to leave the ship without you for enough time. Since you had started accompanying him on his bounty hunts to assist him in whatever he may need.

***********************

You were pleading with Mando. The two of you were walking back to the ship after acquiring a new puck, and you were starving and there was no food back on the Crest.

“Fine.” Mando snapped with his low modulated voice. “We can stop quickly at the cantina and grab something to eat.”

The two of you walked through the door. “Alright, hurry up–” Mando said, turning to you.

But before he could even finish his sentence, you were running up to a random group of girls, none of whom he recognized.

“OMG hiiiiii‼!” One of them screeched.

“Y/n what are you doing here?!?” Another one exclaimed.

Mando just stood a few feet away watching you excitedly greet the four girls.

***********************

They were old friends of yours. It turns out, they all worked at the brothel down the road. While catching up with them, they told how fun and effortless their jobs were. They made great money having great sex for a living. It was a high-end brothel, and it was completely safe and clean; clients had to pass health and background tests before purchasing services. Your friends made thousands of credits and spent them travelling the galaxy, going out to fancy clubs, and buying luxury goods.

After getting a drink with them, you walked back to the ship. Mando had already returned. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t want to join you and your loud friends for a drink.

You step into the Crest. You take in the filthy floors and musty smell and can only think about the flashy and cushy lifestyle that your old friends are living as sex workers. You honestly love working with Mando and travelling with him as a mechanic/assistant. But a lot of the excitement of the job revolved around your flirtatious relationship with Mando, and you couldn’t help wonder how much longer that would last. You let out a deep sign, and climb the ladder to the cockpit.

“Finally.” Mando says standing up and facing you. You stood in the doorway. “You need to rewire the calcinator before we take off. Get to it.” He said shortly.

You stand there, and simply stare at Mando.

“...What?” Mando says with his modulated voice.

“Ohhhhhh nothing.” You sign crossing your arms and slouching. “I’m just thinking about how much more glamerous my life would be if I were a sex worker instead of a rouge Mandalorian’s mechanic.”

Mando scoffs. “That’s funny.”

You tilt your head as you stare into his visor.

“You would never last as a sex worker. Trust me, y/n, you’re much better suited being my mechanic.”

“What?!” you say, feeling slightly offended. “Excuse me, but I would be an amazing sex worker. Trust me, Mando.”

“Yeah…definitely not.” Mando says.

“And why is that?” You shoot back.

“You’re too stuborn to be a sex worker.” Mando says nonchalantly, leaning back into his chair. “You have to put up a lot of shit. You basically have to do whatever your client wants you to do. You have to let creepy guys fuck you any way they want.” Mando says.

“Creepy guys like you?” You say with a smirk, staring directly into his visor.

“Exactly.” Mando expresses, maintaining “eye” contact with you.

You take in a breath. “Alright, Mando, I’m bored, and our next bounty isn’t due for three days.” You say stepping closer to the chair he’s sitting on.

“I’m going to work at the brothel tomorrow and prove that I can be a great sex worker.”

“Ha, I bet you won’t last a day.” Mando spits, crossing his arms.

“You’re on.”

***********************

The terms of your bet were unclear or nonexistent? But it didn’t matter to you, and apparently not to Mando either.

You weren’t a registered sex worker, but your friends pulled some strings and you were able to work at the brothel for the day under the pretence that you were “shadowing” one of your friends to see how the job worked.

Inside the brothel, you sat in the area where the girls hung out. This was a lavish, very expensive brothel. The procedure was simple: the sex workers all lounged around this beautiful gold hotel loby. Clients who didn’t already know which sex worker they wanted would enter and observe the sex workers, speak to some of them, and choose one (or more).

You sat comfortably in a big velvet chair. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. But the deal was that you only had to make it through a day. Maybe you wouldn’t get any clients at all! There were a considerable number of sex workers, and perhaps no one would choose you. Just as you were starting to feel better at that thought, the manager called your name.

“Y/n! You have a client. Head up to room 279, they’ll be up there shortly.”

Your heart starts beating fast. Okay, so you have a client within the first five minutes of starting your day, no big deal!

You head up to the room with your heart still racing. It’s a really nice room. It’s gold pleated and there’s a lounge area, a bar, and a huge bed. You walk over to a large mirror and examine yourself. You’re wearing a red silk and lace two-piece set. You look super hot, this is definitely the hottest you’ve looked since taking the job on the Crest. You take your hair clip out to redo it when the door swings open.

Your heart drops and your head swings around to see who your client is. To your surprise, Mando stands at the door. He stands tall and confident, legs a little further than shoulder width apart.

“Mando! What are you doing here?” You say in confusion.

He doesn’t say a word, but takes one step into the room.

Your confusion is written on your face.

“Mando, you have to get out of here. I have a client on the way.”  

He still says nothing

“Seriously! They’ll be here any moment, you really need to go!” You say with urgence.

His silence continues as he slowly creeps forward, slamming the door behind him.

“Why would I leave?” He purrs. “I paid for this.”

“Wait, you're my client!?” You ask.

Mando stops just a few in front of you. In a slow, deep voice, Mando says “Y/n, you can quit now, admit you were wrong... and we’ll head back to the ship.” You can tell he has a devilish smirk under his helmet.

You pause for a moment. “Ha…..no way, Mando. I’m not backing down.” You say nervously.

“Are you sure about that, pretty girl?” He says, taking another step closer to you. He looks down on you, staring directly into your eyes. Your “gulp” is audible. Your pussy starts to pulse as you take in everything that’s happening.

Towering over you, he puts his fingers under your chin and lightly tilts your head up to meet his gaze. “Because I won’t hold back.” He asserts. “I’ll be as rough with you as I am with every other whore I’ve fucked.” He says, pulling off his gloves.

“Good.” You say. “Don’t hold back.”

With that, he steps forward grabbing your neck, shoving you into the wall. You whimper loudly and he grinds his rock hard cock onto your crotch before turning you around and pushing you harder into the wall, and rolling his cock against your ass. You could tell he was big, very big. He quickly pulls back and shoves your shorts down with a grunt, exposing your bare ass. You gasp and he rubs the soft skin on your butt before slapping it hard. You let out a yelp as your mouth falls open. He aggressively slaps your ass several more times.

He chuckles lightly. “You said you could take this, so show me how good of a slut for me you can be, little girl.” He says. Your pussy throbs at the filthy language he’s using.

He drags you to the bed and bends you over. One finger enters you as you moan. “I spent a lot of credits on this, it better be worth it.” He says as he pumps his finger in you repeatedly. You cry out.

“Damn this pussy is fucking tight!” Mando says through his modulator. You moan loudly as his thumb starts circling your clit.

Still bent over the bed, and his free hand moves up your body and roughly grabs and kneads your tits. He aggressively rips off your shirt. You can feel your pussy dripping on Mando’s hand as your arousal pulses through. He continues to tease you as he circles your clit. “Fuck, this pussy is wetter and tighter than I imagined. Why you so wet, little girl, you like it rough?” Mando says.

All you can respond with are light, breathy moans. And then, Mando pulls his fingers out and lightly slaps your pussy. You let out a yelp. “Answer me.” Mando commands.

“Ye– Yes. Fuck, I like it rough Mando.” You respond.

“Good. Let’s see your skills, my little whore” he says as he kicks your feet apart to spread your legs. You feel his finger flick your clit and you whine loudly.

Without warning you feel his thick long cock enter your pussy. The pain was so pleasurable that you see stars. He sets a brutal pace. He continues to rail into you as you scream his name. “Mando! Fuck Mando, ahh!” You hear his heavy breathing through his modulator.

“Fuck.” Mando spits out. “This is the tightest pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

“You– you ha– have the biggest cock– cock that has ever fuc– fucked me.” You return. Your pussy starts to throb. Without warning you cum and release a rush of fluid onto his cock as your entire body shakes.

“Ahhh, what a good girl, cuming around my cock” Mando says as he pulls out of you.

Your leg muscles give in, you sink forward into the bed. Mando flips you over so you’re lying down facing up toward him. “What a desperate little thing you are.” He growls. Mando takes a moment and admires your completely naked body all spread out for him. You are so small underneath him. Your doe-eyes are wide, your mouth still agape, panting for breath, and your pussy glistening from your cum.

Mando then grabs you by your waist. “On your knees.” He orders as he shoves you to your knees. He takes his length in his hand and strokes his cock in front of your face a few times.

You quickly gather your composure and take a second to admire his enormous member. You bite your lip and look up to him. Mando puts his hand on the back of your head and takes a fist full of your hair. You stick your tongue out and lick his cock up and down a few times before putting the tip in your mouth. You try your best to tease him, but before long, Mando pushes your head further down his cock. You start bobbing your head up and down, trying each time to take more of him in your mouth. Mando remains still at first, just using his hand to guide your head up and down his shaft. You start moaning and move your eyes up to his helmet, with this Mando begins thrusting into your mouth. His cock hits the back of your throat. “Fuuuucckkk.” Mando lets out while face fucking you. You hear his little moans in between your gagging. “I love the sound of you gagging on my cock.” Mando asserts. “And you look so pretty on your knees with it shoved down your throat.”

Doing your best to breathe through your nose, you can feel his length tensing in your mouth. “Mm gonna fill that pretty mouth of yours up with my cum.” You let out a moan and can feel his hot liquid shooting into your mouth. Mando pulls out of you and puts himself back in his pants. You’re now naked kneeling in front of him while he towers over you fully clothed and armored. You’ve never been so turned on in your life.

You pant and look up at him. Your face is covered in spit and cum and your hair is a mess. He bends down and runs his thumb across your bottom lip before putting it in your mouth. You suck his thumb. “Good girl.” Mando purrs.

Mando pulls his thumb out of your mouth, stands up, and takes a few steps back. You slowly rise up and take a deep breath, trying to comprehend everything that just happened. You turn around to reach for your clothes.

“Thanks for destroying my new work clothes, Mando.” You say picking up the ripped pieces of the tiny top he tore off of you.

“You won’t need them anymore, you’re only working here for a day.” You grab a short white silk robe hanging on the wall, and put it on. “And what if I have other clients today?” You say mockingly.

“You won’t.” Mando says. “I purchased you for the entire day.” He says walking to the door. You stand there feeling a mixture of astonishment and arousal at the knowledge that Mando paid a ship load so that only he would be able to fuck you.

Mando opens the door. “After you.”

“You realize that this means I win the bet, right? You understand that you paid me in order for you to lose the bet?”

“Sure, sweetheart. Congratulations. Now, we need to get back to the ship, and you need to rewire the calcinator.”

***************************************

Masterlist

[innocentbi-stander]

Secret headcanon that Jaskier and his sense of curiosity is a fucking menace on a normal basis, and even worse when geralt finally brings him to winter in kaer morhen

Jaskier at Kaer Morhen is like herding a toddler who seems fixated on finding everything that could potentially kill them

Listen, Geralt knows that Jaskier isn’t human (okay he’s known this information for a few months because it took him fucking twenty years to realize Jaskier was an elf), but just because he knows jaskier isn’t human now doesn’t make the witcher any less worried about him injuring himself

Because as the years have shown, if there’s one thing other than music that jaskier has a special talent for, it’s getting himself into trouble

So really, geralt just must be an idiot if he didn’t realize what was going to happen bring Jaskier to Kaer Morhen

One really bored bard trapped in a half demolished keep riddled with tunnels, hidden rooms, and high places? 

A recipe for disaster

Geralt is notorious for forgetting that beneath all of the pomp and circumstance of being a bard, jaskier is actually pretty competent, and with that competence comes an insane ability to climb, otherwise known as the bane of geralt’s existence

On their first day in the keep jaskier immediately finds the highest point to climb to, a crumbling tower looming over the courtyard

Geralt spends a nervous hour searching for his bard before spotting him and promptly, as jaskier would call it, ‘flipping his shit’

He snatches his bard from his spot on a rather fragile looking wall of the tower, bundles him and blankets and deposits him in front the the fireplace while he makes supper

By the time he returns with stew, jaskier has already spirited away with lambert, who has undoubtedly promised to show the bard some tunnel or other

It's only then that geralt realizes it’s going to be a very long winter

No amount of overprotective grumbling from geralt manages to convince jaskier to stay within his sight, much to vesemir, eskel, and lambert’s amusement

Vesemir’s amusement starts to fade the day he comes into the main room to find jaskier high up in the rafters, swinging about like there isn’t a thirty foot drop to a stone floor waiting upon the wrong move

Eskel begins to fear for jaskier’s tendency for high up places after spotting the bard somehow scaling the creaky bookshelves in the library

Lambert is by far jaskier’s worst enabler, and his steadfast partner in crime

Together they manage to give geralt, vesemir, and eskel a number of heart attacks

The time they disappeared for hours beneath the keep exploring the tunnels

The time jaskier insisted he could surely climb his way around the outskirts of the keep without coming inside (geralt shut that one down halfway through)

The time jaskier decided to ‘make friends’ with the monster living in one of the hot springs

The time they found a trapdoor in the pantry and were stuck for three hours

The day jaskier and lambert invented ‘aard the bard’ will go down in history as one of the most stressful days of geralt’s life

Even for all the stress that jaskier causes geralt with his endless stream of curiosity and pranks pulled between him and lambert, geralt still manages to enjoy the time together all winter

Geralt just thanks melitele that his hair is already white, so at least he won’t be getting any gray hairs from the stress jaskier puts him under

Soon it will be time for them to return to the path, to monsters, and witches, and camping under the open sky

For now, geralt holds his bard close and prays to whatever gods might listen that jaskier might not get himself killed tomorrow

[lokissuper]

Need To Be Safe| Carl Grimes x Reader

Summary: Carl doesn't want reader to get hurt during the bombing of Alexandria.

Request: from @hannahlovesfinnick​ I was wondering if you could do a Carl x my oc (Hannah) request, you don’t have to use the name, you can use y/n if you want. So maybe you can do something that takes place in season 8 where Hannah and Carl go out together and Hannah is there where Carl finds siddiq and gets bit in canon. But instead since Hannah is there because her and Carl are dating, Carl doesn’t get bit and Hannah helps Carl and siddiq fight the walkers off and no one gets majorly hurt. So, like in canon, Carl takes siddiq to the sewers along with Hannah. And while Alexanderia is evacuating, Carl and Hannah have an emotional goodbye after he convinces her to go with them after a small argument with her wanting to make sure he’s ok and him wanting to protect her. So Hannah goes with the others and the rest goes as canon. after the saviours bomb Alexandria, it can maybe end with Carl meeting them in the sewers and it can be fluffy with him holding her and trying to reassure her that everything will work out for them and that their ok

DISCLAIMER! I never really followed the timeline at the beginning of season 8, was just kinda confusing. So if there is anything wrong then I apologize, but thank you for the request. I also listened to Easy Street on repeat to write this for some reason. I didn't proof read this because I was too excited to get it out.

Living in a world full of zombies was kind of a pain sometimes. I mean you could probably guess that it would. But growing up in during an apocalypse isn’t what I though my imagined my future. 

Early on, my parents and I found a group and stuck with them. I found a boy my age and he became my best friend, Carl. His dad led us through the world of the unknown and protected us, especially me when my parents got bit. 

It was when we were finally settling at Hershel's farm and a herd made it’s way through the fields. I didn’t know what happened until everyone reunited after the damage and saw that they weren’t there, along with Andrea. The adults tried to put on a brave face for me but I had matured to much that I knew they were dead. But when we found Andrea again I had a little hope in me that they were still out there, until I overheard her tell Rick that she saw them get taken down by walkers.

From then on I had the whole group looking out for me, including Carl. 

Carl and I had been through a lot together, being there for him when he had to put his mother down, when it was confirmed mine were dead, and when Glenn and Abraham were brutally murdered by Negan.

I wasn’t there for the line-up, but just hearing about it made me realize that I couldn’t keep holding in my feelings for Carl. Especially in a world like our where something could happen to one of us any second.

So I told him and reciprocated. We’ve been dating ever since and continued to watch out for one another. 

We were always looking for people to bring back to Alexandria, people who could help us in a great deal. So when Carl came back from a run with his dad and told me he found someone I was onboard. I was a little hesitant at first because of our war with the Saviors, but if Carl was confident then I was too. We went out to find the mystery person hopefully in the same place as last time. 

We did find him. But surrounded by walkers.

So we helped him, Siddiq, with these walkers because he didn’t seem to know what he was doing. I killed the first one but then saw one cornering Carl and grabbed it off of him, pushing it to the ground. I then shot it in the head. 

Siddiq showed gratitude to us for coming back for him, we asked him our procedure questions and were on our way to Alexandria. We knew Negan and the Saviors were going to be coming tonight, and it wasn’t going to end well.

-

Carl and I snuck Saddiq into the boarded town, and to the opening in the sewers Carl found to keep people safe. Saddiq thanked us again before climbing down the ladder to the sewers in which Carl and I followed so we could get him settled. We grabbed a cot, pillows and blankets so he was comfortable and gave him food. Carl and I left him down in the Sewers for a few hours before the sun started to set, and we knew what was coming. 

Carl and I were standing watching the sun set from one of the watch towers when he started to speak.

“I want you down in the sewers tonight. I need to make sure your safe.” 

I turned my head to him and furrowed my eyebrows. I was confused since we always fought through these types of things together, looking out to make sure the other was covered. 

“No.” I said.

“It wasn’t a question. This is going to get out of hand and I can’t have you out here.” He said frustrated.

“Where is this coming from?” I asked.

Carl shook his head before responding,”You weren’t there that night. With Glenn and Abraham, seeing what Negan is capable of. We really made him mad this time.”

“Don’t you think I know that, I know he is a threat and dangerous. I know. I also wish I was there that night too. I wish I was there so bad it hurts, I know I shouldn’t but just the idea that something could’ve happened to you-” I cut myself off. “I’m not leaving you this time.”

He looked at me sternly, I could see in his eyes he understood where I was coming from but he still was standing with his choice.

“I don’t want to lose you either. But that is why I need you to be safe, where I know you will stay alive.” He said to me.

I fully turned to him now, growing angry with him.

“Not unless you come with me.” I said crossing my arms.

“I can’t, this is my show and I need to run it. Dad’s not here so I have to be.” He said.

I scoffed,”He’s going to kill you. If not you then everyone else, I understand where your coming from but if you die, then I die. End of story.”

Carl and I started to make our way down to the ground. Shaking his head on the way down, before he could say anything I spoke up again when I set my feet on the floor.

“I can’t lose you, your the only one I have.” 

He looked at me and saw tears welling up in my eyes. He knew I still mourned my parents death and that I felt incredibly lonely even though I had him. He walked closer to me and brushed a piece of hair behind my ear. 

“You have so many people looking out for you, so much family here. I can’t lose you either.” He spoke softly to me.

I looked him in the eyes and started to cry. I whispered, “Okay. I will go in the sewers. But as soon as things get hectic you bring you butt down there.”

Carl reached for my waist and pulled me toward him, smiling at me,”I understand.”

We walked hand in hand to the entrance to the sewers, everyone else had already been moved down there and I was the last one left. It was pretty dark out now and we had to hurry

I turned to Carl and brought him into a kiss, a passionate and loving kiss. One we hadn’t had yet in our relationship. I couldn’t go down there without kissing him, not knowing what was going to happen later. Our lips moved together and my arms were wrapped around his neck playing with the ends of his hair. Carl was slightly shocked with the power of the kiss but quickly wrapped him arms around my waist. I realized how much I loved him, even though we hadn’t said the three words to each other yet. 

I pulled away from him but Carl joined our lips together again in a long peck. He pulled away but only enough so he could whisper into my lips, “I love you so much.” I smiled.

“I love you.” I pulled away from him fully. I looked at him one last time before turning to the sewer and climbing down the ladder.

-

The ground was trembling and my ears were in pain because of the noise. I thought for sure there was no world anymore above us. 

The bombs were going off for a little bit now, I held Judith to my chest and hushed her to make sure she didn’t make any noises that could give us away. Not like they could hear her up on the ground especially with the sound of gunshots and grumbling of grenades.

Carl still hadn’t made his way down to the sewers yet, and it was far past safe from what I was hearing. Which meant Carl was either taken, dead, or just plain stubborn. I tried not to think about it to much, because Judith needed me right now. I was cooing to her when I heard the steel trapdoor to the sewers opened. We were told to be quiet when we heard to door open because we never knew if it was one of us or an enemy. But, when I saw my boyfriends sheriff hat I quickly get up to run to him but he out his finger over his mouth then pointed up. I quickly understood that there were saviors above us. He grabbed my hand that wasn’t holding Judith and lead my away from the entrance. When he deemed it far enough away he pulled me into a gentle hug, watching for his little sister in my arms.

I gently spoke in his ear,” We’re okay. Are you?”

He nodded. 

I pulled away and pecked him on the lips before giving him Judith. I was so happy he was safe.