#working on urns is always intense

[claypigeonpottery]

an urn, commissioned for a beloved cat

(and inside, a few treats and toys)

[swordsandholly]

Fancy

Ch. 4: Black Out Days

Ao3 | Previous - Next | Masterlist

Vampire!Poly 141 x Fem!Fat!Reader

MDNI | cw: sickness, hallucinations, injury, some light dubcon

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life. Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate.

A/N: the tone of this story has sort of shifted as I’ve worked on the next few chapters/plot points. I hope it’s not too jarring, but I’m excited for the direction it’s going in.

Your mother rises out of her drunken stupor - spine too straight and head flopped back limply. As if her hips are the only thing capable of moving and her neck has snapped at every ligament. The worn sheets pool around her hips, torn neckline of her nightclothes exposing her gaunt, bruised collar bones.

She says your name in that sickening, gruff voice of hers. A voice too exposed to the poisons outside. Blood drips from the corner of her mouth, coats her teeth as she speaks. Black and viscous. “Oh, darling, what have you gotten yourself into?”

You’re small. A child kneeling by her bed like you always did, waiting for her to ask you to bring her water or pain pills. “What?”

“It’s easier if you give in.”

People aren’t buried anymore. There isn’t room. Your mother’s urn is painfully cold in your hands. You stumble as the train lurches. A new voice hisses above you. Wild eyes and big hands that leave clawing, bloodied stripes in their wake down your body. A flash of blonde, some sort of scar. An accent so old you don’t recognize it.

“It’s easier if you give in, little girl.”

You fall back, out of the train doors and onto something soft and silky. For a few beats you stay there, in the quiet. In the dark. Comfortable in a way so deeply foreign to you it might as well be alien. Until some thick cover pulls away from your face. John grins down at you, shirtless with his head resting on his hand and elbow on the pillow below him.

“Knew you were awake.”

You rub your eyes. “Wh- when did- when did I get here?”

He frowns, a deep crease forming in his brow. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve…” You run a hand through your sleep tangled hair. “I don’t know…”

“It could be so easy, Fancy.” He murmurs, voice low and far away. “It doesn’t have to be… this.”

“I can’t…” Something complicated swirls in your chest. A twisting of guilt and love and unadultered disgust.

The world shifts. You’re standing, now. Simon leans on the railing of the penthouse balcony, staring out at the city. He takes up so much space. Envelopes you without even touching you. “How many memories do you think a person can lose before they’re someone else entirely?”

“What?” You frown. There’s an ache in your head - a drumming pain growing more intense by the second. Your bones rattle along to the rhythm.

“It’d be so easy…”

You peel your eyes open only slightly. It hurts, as if they’ve been glued shut. An offensive light blazes in your face. It takes a moment before you realize the tingle on your skin comes from the UV lamp beside you. Did you fall asleep under it again? No matter how hard you blink your vision won’t clear. When you finally manage to swallow it feels like your throat has been lined with shards of glass.

You grope around the bed uselessly, hands unsure. The edge of the bed takes longer to get to than it should. With a low groan you crawl to the edge, barely managing to swing your legs over. Well, swing is a generous description. In reality you end up on your back on the floor, head thunking against some sort of plush rug or carpet. Your vision swims.

With another groan you slowly pull yourself up into a shaky stance. Wherever you are, it’s big. The bed you fell out of is easily a king with richly woven sheets and a thick comforter. The rug on the floor has such intricate patterns it makes your pounding head dizzy. There’s even a fireplace in the far corner, unlit at the moment.

Something different catches your eye - an item too familiar for this foreign room. Your box of valuables sits on an elegantly carved wooden dresser. Real, actual wood. You run your fingers over the strangely organic material, so rare that it almost feels more unnatural than the plastic plywood you’ve grown accustomed to in the slums.

You limp weakly toward the heavy door on the far wall. A whine escapes you as you pull it open, the heavy wood causes the hinges to creak quietly. You poke your head out, walking down the empty hall like a person with decade long atrophy. Sweat drips down your back, the sickness in your gut turning to anxiety as you realize where you are.

The penthouse.

Voices waft through the mostly open central area - deep and growling. A sound you might mistake for an angry beast if it weren’t for the intelligable words the noise makes up.

“Bloody ‘ell, Price, what the fuck?” That baritone could only belong to Simon. You poke your head around the corner of the wall, peaking into the living room where the four vampires stand.

“I know, I fucking know. I couldn’t-” An exasperated sigh. “I couldn’t lose her again.”

“So you fuckin’ marked ‘er?”

Your hand lifts shakily to the still sore cuts on your neck. They’ve scabbed over but barely. The action makes you look down at your hands - neatly bandaged. Recently, too, you think. At least if your blurred vision is to be believed.

“We’ll lose ‘er anyway if you fuckin’ scare ‘er away!” Simon’s volume continues to grow. He steps forward. John doesn’t back away.

“Guys…” Kyle tentatively steps in, hands outstretched between them as if stepping into a dog fight. He might as well be, frankly.

“You promised her you wouldn’t!” Simon’s voice wavers. It makes your heart skip, the unsteady sound so bizarre coming from him. “We all did!”

“Simon’s right.” Johnny crosses his arms. “We said we’d take our time. See where she’s at.”

“Weren’t exactly taking your time when you fucked her raw were you?” John snaps back. It’s shockingly childish and out of character for the man. Not that you would know. He sighs, rolling his wide shoulders. So much for not being angry about it.

Before you can make heads or tails of the scene playing out in front of you, your vision blackens, one leg stiffening and the other giving out. You barely catch yourself on some random side table, knocking it against the wall in the process. Despite your efforts to hold yourself up you collapse onto the cold, hardwood floor.

“Oh, baby girl.” It’s Kyle at your side first, cool hands tenderly enveloping you as he checks for damage.

“Don’t…” You push at his chest weakly. “Don’t touch me…”

“Dove-” A crack sounds throughout the penthouse, deafening and ringing as Simon’s palm comes into contact with John’s chest, forcing the man back a few steps.

“You’ve done enough.”

There’s a moment, long and silent as you watch them stare each other down. A power struggle. John is the head of the coven, objectively. The only way to change that is an exchange of power. A death. You’ve seen it out on the streets within lesser covens. Simon is bigger, but you can see the cold, dogmatic shift in John’s eyes. The look he gave you in the car. The one that says he is well and truly Right and there is nothing to stand between him and what is Right.

The moment ends when you double over, lungs heaving as you choke and cough. A slimy, viscous glob of red-black comes up from your throat. Barely liquid with the thickness of it. You fall limply against Kyle, as much as you’d rather be left in a dark alley than with these psychopaths your body just can’t hold itself up.

Someone scoops you up, pressing you tightly to their chest. Johnny or Kyle, you think. A touch so soft and sweet you might mistake it for love. Not that you would know. You’re back under the wave of nothing before you even touch the sheets.

You sit still as you can, arm growing tired of the stiff angle you have it positioned in. Laid out across some old loveseat that creaks every time you move even slightly. You don’t trust it to not have at least a little dry rot considering it’s from a good few centuries ago. One of those random pieces John hoards for some secret reason. The light positioned carefully above you feels too warm, discomfort making you twitchy.

“Johnnyyy!” You whine. “Hurry up!”

“Ye can do it, bonnie. Just sit like me.” He goes still. Inhumanly still. Transitioning from living (well, undead) being to a marble statue in barely a second. It sends a frightened shiver down your spine - the prey instinct in your hindbrain moving into overdrive.

You take a shaky breath. “I hate when you do that.”

When he does what? Has he done that before? Have you been here before?

“Jus’ be a good lass f’me.” Johnny murmurs. A different sort of shiver runs down your spine.

You recognize his room but it’s… different. Lighter, somehow, than the last time you were here. The only time you were here. The wall has far more drawings tacked to it, nearly doubling the amount and bleeding across onto another side of the room. You squint. It’s you. Well, mostly. All in different poses, some more salacious than others, each carved out with a deep attention to detail. Were… were those there before? They couldn’t have been.

Your body lights up, the room grows darker. Nearly pitch black. Your hips roll lazily. You feel… good. Ecstatic. The warmth from the light replaced by an immeasurable heat. The man below you comes into focus as the dream settles - a mountain. Blonde and pale and scarred. Part of his right ear is clipped off from a fight. At least you think it was a fight. His hair just barely long enough for you to tangle your fingers in. You’d know those dark eyes anywhere - the ones that look right to the very core of you. That know you wholly from Eve.

“Fuck, Si…”

“Tha’s my girl.” He grins. The action pulls at a scar covering his lips. “Always so good f’me.”

The hands on your waist lift you like nothing. Like you weigh as much as paper and are just as delicate. A burning fills you, a tension that pulls a grating whine from your chest.

A distant part of you remembers to question what this is. Why you’re here, with him. Why you’ve never seen his face before but seem to know every detail of it by heart. The rest of you falls into the moment without a care, allowing yourself to be consumed entirely by him and his desire. It’s all you want - all you need.

Simon’s voice rumbles in a sort of call and response to your devoted babbling. “I love you.”

You jolt, snapping forward and sloshing water around you. For a moment, you panic that you’re drowning. That you’ve been dropped into some great sea and left to flounder.

There’s a quiet rumble behind you, vibrating through your back. Simon. You couldn’t make out whatever he said.

You relax instinctively. Some unconcious part of you falls back into him. Until he runs a soap rag over your chest and you tense, clumsily attempting to cover yourself and curl into a ball. The water sloshes over the edge of the tub again. You don’t get very far, despite the massive size of the bath you’re utterly surrounded. Bracketed by Simon’s strong thighs and large hands.

“None of that.” He barks, pulling your arms back to continue washing you. “You’ve been sweatin’ in bed for four days. Gonna make y’self worse.”

Four days? Worse?

You stay quiet, limp and pliant as he pours a hefty glob of shampoo into your hair. Vanilla. Far too exhausted to put up any sort of fight. Not that you would win. It feels good, if you’re honest, the way he systematically scrubs every part of your scalp, slowly detangling with conditioner. You nod off for a moment, coming back when he pours water over your head to rinse you.

“Simon?” You murmur weakly.

He grunts.

“Why am I here?”

The hands in your hair pause. Only for a moment before going back to their gentle movements. “Because you’re ‘ome.”

You shiver, another coughing fit wracking your body. At least nothing comes up this time. There aren’t bandages on your hands, just the scabbing wounds that have obviously been carefully tended to. Even as the coughing subsides your breaths wheeze, shallow and hollow in your chest.

When you were young, your mother would set you in a cart to walk to the supermarket. The cracked streets would bump and rock you uncomfortably but it was better than walking all those miles. You always hated the market. Too loud and confusing. A maze of sterile white tile and shelving so high it felt giant to you.

One time you lost her, distracted by a massive plushie that she said you can’t afford. You’d stood there staring at it, angrily contemplating why you couldn’t afford it. What sort of societal disservice had been done that you can’t have that bright pink creature. Angry and lost you ended up wandering the aisles for what felt like an eternity. Walking through that white void in search of… you’re not really sure what, actually.

That confusion continues to eat at your mind as the aisles transition into a small, lush greenhouse. The UV lights above you would burn, if it weren’t for the large hat covering your head and shoulders. Gardening gloves protect your hands as you carefully harvest a few tomatoes. They came in so well this year, bright and firm.

You’re lost in it. The green. So accustomed to grays and neon lights that it feels unnatural. You turn your gloved hands over, palm up, down, up, down. They’re yours but distant. As if you’ve possessed some alternate version of yourself. You suppose you have, in a way, if these fever dreams are in pattern. Not that you remember the others well.

The lights turn off suddenly and you freeze, muscles tensing and hackles raising. You turn slowly as the door begins to creak open, trowel in hand. Not that it would do much against whoever has you cornered. John said to be wary.

He’s been acting strange lately.

Isn’t he always?

A hand clamps over your mouth and you shriek behind it. You claw at the stony hand covering you, instinct taking over. Adrenaline pulses through you.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me.” Kyle coos, letting you go quickly. “Sorry, love, I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t do that!” You snap, harsher than you meant. Or less so?

He deflates a bit, shoulders sagging. “Sorry, I just wanted to come in here with you for a bit.”

“Why?” You snort. Kyle is the only one brave enough to venture in. Even with an external light switch, the others are far too wary of the UV lights hanging across the roof to enter. It’s a joke between Simon and Johnny - that they’ll throw Johnny into the greenhouse if he doesn’t behave.

Kyle nods, scooting forward. You can barely make him out, the only light being that of the faux stars drifting gently through the fogged greenhouse glass. “Missed you.”

“I saw you, like, five minutes ago.” Did you?

He shakes his head. You wish they would tell you more. They always hold back so much, as if your puny human brain can’t grasp what they think. You could. You’d learn to. Even if it was some horrid, eldritch secret you would bear it for them. He pushes you back until you’re laying on the floor, slowly resting his weight on you and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Just let me stay like this for a bit.”

You frown, but only move to reach up and pet his hair. It’s smells like vanilla. He stole your shampoo again. A fraction of you screams, rails against the idea of being this close to an apex predator. To a man you don’t know. Strange. You know Kyle. You love him. Both the fear and the fondness swirl together into a confusing mixture in the back of your mind.

“We can stay. For as long as you want.”

Something heavy and cold coils around you. You weren’t out as long this time, you think. If you’re even awake now. The room is dark. A pitch black void that you float in outside of the grounding weight holding you in place. That vanilla scent felt so real, still wafting through your nose. A nagging sense of despair settles in your chest as it dissipates.

“Need t’go home.” You croak, unsure of why you say it. Your tongue feels heavy and numb. God only knows why.

“Ye are home.” Johnny murmurs in your ear, voice low.

“Not m’bed… sheets’r t’nice.”

“It’s yers.” Johnny’s arms tighten around you. His voice shakes. “It’s always been yers.”

“N-no…”

“Knew it was tae soon tae bring you back.” He buries his face between your shoulder blades. “Told Kyle it’d be tae much.”

“Wh-”

“Ye make us such a mess, bonnie.” He sighs. “Cannae believe Price-“

Johnny cuts himself off. You can’t find it in yourself to argue or press. A sob wracks you out of nowhere. Something about Johnny, about being wrapped up in his strong arms sends you over the edge of it all. The weight of him mimics the one in your chest.

“Dinnae cry.” Johnny sits up a bit, running a thumb under your eye.

“I’m s-so confused-“ You sob. “I can’t- I-“

Somewhere in the midst of your crying fit the bed dips in front of you. Kyle cages you in between himself and Johnny, pressing you tightly in the center. It makes you want to thrash, to fight and scream.

It also feels so, so good.

You’re back in the slums, in your apartment, with some random man groaning above you. He works down the street, you think. Smiles at you whenever you go get a coffee or cigarettes. You stare at the ceiling blankly. You brought him here… why did you bring him? What- You hiss at the living heat of his hands, burning through your skin - gut churning at the blue of his eyes. It’s wrong. Neither bright nor tranquil enough. You can’t voice it. Can’t place it. They’re just wrong.

You catch a flash of dark irises as you take drinks to some slimy little vampire paying on credit. Immortal but still poor. Pathetic. Suddenly, though, you don’t care when he and his friends grab at you, your gaze trained on the man lounged in a booth on the other side of the club. You can’t stop staring at him, something tugging at you deep down to go to him. His eyes connect with yours, and you nearly leap with joy when he waves you over.

Except, when you get close, you freeze in place. Straddling his lap, a crushing weight lands on you all at once. They’re not what you’re looking for…

What are you looking for?

You sob in your bed late into the night, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes. You’re so lost. So hollow. You don’t know why - don’t understand what changed. Some portion of you carved out into nothing. A soulless tulpa born of someone’s imagination. You can’t be human, there’s no way you can be human and this empty. A walking carcass. Not even undead, just barely animated. A puppet, almost.

It’d be so easy…

You wake in a fog this time, limbs heavy. As much as you try to will your arms to move, they won’t quite do it right. Your hands glide over the soft fabric around you, barely moving a few inches. The muscles twitch and shake. It feels like wading through molasses and with a thousand pounds of steel strapped to your back as you attempt to sit up even slightly.

“There she is.” A familiar voice murmurs. It’s soft, comforting, but also incredibly far away. “Hey, lovie.”

“Kyle?” You croak. You might as well be speaking around a massive ball of cotton. There’s something hot and wet streaming down your face. Are you crying?

“You’re alright.” He murmurs, soothing down your hair. Petting you like a dog in pain. An injured, feral animal.

You collapse back on the bed - not that you made it that far in the first place - unable to see more than a few feet in front of you. Kyle, really. Kyle is all you can make out. His face so vivid you’re sure you could draw it from memory. “Where am I?”

He pauses. “…Your room.”

“M’chest hurts…”

“I know, lovie. We’ll make it better.”

“What’d y’do t’me…?” Your vision flashes in and out. You’re going back under, as hard as you try to fight it. The edge just comes closer. You teeter on your heels.

“You just breathed in some bad air. You’ve been out for… a while.” Somehow, you get the sense that what he says is an understatement. That there are layers he has to hold back. Simon said four, you remember, though you can’t quite define if that was real or a dream.

“I hate you.” You whisper, barely audible. “I hate all of you.”

“I know.” Kyle sighs, continuing to run his fingers through your hair. “I know.”

Teeth sink into you. A choked gasp escapes your lips, body stiffening and hands knotting into some thick cloth. The pain is searing but fleeting. A part of you, the present part of you, feels disgusted. Wants to shake and batter whatever parasite has you caught in its maw. Another part, a far more distant piece of you that you aren’t even sure is you, blossoms with warmth. You melt into the strong arms that hold you against a cool chest.

“John?” You murmur. Or, rather, this other you murmurs.

A low groan reverberates from his chest to yours. Your head gets lighter, vision fuzzy around the edges. A hand clamps over the bloodied parts of your neck. Your vision fractures, partially the scene in front of you and partially the ceiling of your room that isn’t your room. Your lashes flutter and you’re back loosely straddling John’s lap.

“Yes, love?” He pants, mouth and teeth stained red. It sends a wave of panic through your veins.

You swallow roughly. “I don’t-”

Something shatters - the staccato sound reverberating through the apartment.

You startle, sitting up and throwing your blankets back. The bed is empty, room dark except for the few embers trapped in the fireplace off to the side. You don’t notice the box missing from your dresser.

“Hello?” You frown, standing and moving toward your door as if possessed by some external force. As if you at all know where you are going. Your bare feet pad quietly against the hard wood, door silently sliding open a fraction.

There’s another smashing sound. Your heart rate spikes, fear coursing through your veins. No one’s home - they left days ago. On business.

How do you know that?

Suddenly you’re in the living room of the apartment, crouched behind the couch and groping underneath for one of the silver daggers stashed around in various hiding spots. An insurance policy. Your breath comes in short, rapid gasps. You have to get out. Get downstairs. There’s security down there. They’ll help you, they know you.

How do they know you? How did you know the knife was there?

With the small dagger gripped tightly in your fist, you flinch at another smash. It came from John’s room across the apartment, another following right after. It sounds like this person (or people) tore his metal bed-frame apart. Splintered into pieces.

You take the opportunity to carefully move toward the front exit, allowing the noise to cover the sound of your movements. Damn the open concept design. You told John you didn’t like it. Breaths come in faster and shallow. You’re not built for running - too soft from all that pampering. A chubby, well loved pet. Not that you’re complaining. It’s just not the best for this particular moment.

A figure moves at lightening speed from John’s room to Kyle’s. You duck down behind the kitchen counter, covering your mouth to stifling the sound of your breath.

“I can smell ya.” A low voice taunts, echoing through the apartment. Fortunately, your scent is everywhere. It will take longer to distinguish where you are in particular than he may think.

Why is your scent everywhere again?

There’s more tearing and smashing. A door groans loudly as the intruder tears it off the hinges. More shattering. Your heart breaks a little - that must have been Kyle’s pottery. Oh he worked so hard on those. Some of them are from a century ago.

Anger begins to boil up your spine. Who is this fuck who thinks he can just wreck your home? Someone you know, for sure. He would have had to be invited in at some point. With a sneer you continue making your way through the penthouse, toward the front door. John’s going to rip this fucker in two when he gets back.

Except, just as you’re reaching for the front door, the vampire exits Kyle’s room. You meet his eyes - glinting in the dark of the hall. There’s barely a beat before you begin to rush, opening the door as fast as you can.

Not fast enough, of course. You’re only human, after all.

A scream rips it’s way through your throat as you connect with the far wall, knife clattering who knows where. Something broke, you’re not sure what. Every nerve ending seems to light on fire as you try to sit up. Your arm doesn’t move more than a twitch when you try to stand.

“Hey there, little girl.” The man pins you suddenly. You get the nagging sense that you know him, his name on the tip of your tongue. Buried somewhere under lock and key in your mind.

You thrash, punching at his chest and tearing at his hair. To no avail, of course. He just lets you, a cruel grin spreading wider and wider the harder you try to get away.

“What do you want!” You finally sob, going limp when your body finally gives out under pain and exertion.

“To destroy John’s coven. Obviously.” He huffs. “Yer step one.”

The vampire grabs your jaw in an iron grip, your teeth crack under the pressure as his pupils dilate. They’re bright - so blue and infinite and you can’t look anywhere else no matter how hard you try.

A clarity washes over you almost violently as you come to - like breaking through the surface of water after staying under too long. Everything from yo ur time under washing away, sinking back into the deep. A forgotten wreckage - old and twisted and grown over. Another lost Atlantis somewhere in the depths of your mind.

“John?” The name falls from your lips before you even realize you’re speaking, before his face comes into focus. Soft and familiar - comforting and enraging.

“Right here, dove.” He murmurs, dabbing your face with something damp and cool.

“Wh…” You swallow roughly, not entirely sure what you even want to say. So any words threaten to spill from your lips and yet your mind feels blank. All fuzz and static.

You want to beg him to let you go. To keep you forever. To tell you why he brought you here despite the ever nagging sense that you know why. Something deep in your marrow that connects you to this place - to these men - at the very soul. You are theirs and they are yours and you want nothing more than to run from them as far as you can go.

Those blue eyes focus on yours, so oddly gentle for all of their inhuman qualities. “We’ll talk when you’re better, okay?”

Talk about what? There isn’t anything to talk about. You don’t know them and they don’t know you, no matter what that tugging in your chest tells you. You’ve lied to yourself before - you’ve lied to others before - surely you’re just doing it again. This man hurt you. Marked you, whatever that means, so why do you still melt into his touch?

Your name falls from his lips, reverent and frightening. You blanch, eyes wide and mouth falling open. You didn’t tell him that. You didn’t-

“Just sleep for now, yeah?”

~~~

John watches intently as you fall back asleep. There was panic in your eyes for a moment, but your sick body can’t do much more than drift in an out of consciousness. You look more peaceful this time, at least, your breathing even and your body still. You’d been thrashing before, for what reason he isn’t sure. The lower city’s poison air does a number on the body, it’s effects only growing worse as time goes on and the pollution becomes more dense.

He did that, didn’t he? He left you and now you’re sick and hurt. John runs his fingers over the Mark, nearly entirely healed now. Just two small, faded marks that will follow you to the grave.

“I’m so sorry. I just keep failing you, don’t I?” He sighs. You always said he was a good man even when he didn’t believe it. Even with all the things he’s done. Would you still agree?

John‘s eyes sting. He’d be crying if he was human, surely.

He glances at the door. The others are out - taking care of business while he watches over you. The world doesn’t stop even when you need it to desperately. It took Johnny and Kyle nearly dragging Simon away to leave you alone with him.

He takes your hands in his, guilt wrecking him. They’re so much smaller, so much warmer. He can feel your pulse in every fingertip. Surely he’s ruined any chance to fix this before they could even try. He wouldn’t blame Simon if the man decided there needed to be a change - that John needs to be removed. He wouldn’t fight it.

John crawls into bed beside you like he’s done so many times before. Nestles under your pink silken sheets - the ones you picked out for Christmas. That was years go, now. Over two. Two tortorous, draining years that felt longer than the past six hundred.

He ran for days. Weeks maybe. Tearing through the city block by block, dodging and weaving between people and buildings alike. Speaking to anyone, using up every connection and resource he ever gained under this damned dome. It took a week to get through the sewer system.

No one knew where you went.

No one heard a thing. At least, nothing they would admit to. Even under compulsion.

You were gone, just like that.

Two years go by in the blink of an eye for a vampire. Might as well be a day, a night, a handful of hours. Time in such small increments is nothing to an immortal. Decades are barely enough to measure with. Not for them, though. Every second drug on. The days were long and tense.

A fracture formed between them. Kyle retreated into himself - quiet and frayed around the edges. Sometimes John caught him with a far away look in his eye, staring at nothing. He thinks Kyle would have been crying in those moments if he could. Johnny became far too unpredictable. Ripping and tearing any lower level vampire he can find. He spent a few months hunting Frenzies in the lower city without contact.

And Simon…

Simon turned into a fucking nightmare.

After the first year, they at least hoped to find your body. After the second anniversary of your disappearance came around, they gave up. The guilt of giving up brought a whole new wave of grief on them. Johnny laid in your bed for weeks, nearly beginning to petrify as he denied any blood. John couldn’t blame him, opting to re-read your favorite books with shaking hands. Simon fished your last knitting project, eyes heavy and tired. Kyle meandered listlessly through the house, sometimes laying with Johnny but most often sequestering himself in the now empty greenhouse.

They try to fill the hole with pretty girls that look sort of like you. Never enough and they never act like you. Too busy placating to snap at them like you were so willing to do. These others are only place fillers - something to take up the space you left between them. They could never truly fill it, though. It was far too great. A chasm that continues to swallow the four of them whole.

He’s so tired. The others were, too. Kate handled business well enough but their involvement was still required. Each issue and event weighing on them more and more. Kingpins of the city and they’ve been nearly ruined by the loss of a single girl. A single, human girl. None of it mattered in the face of what they lost.

John looks up, the pin-drop silence in the room bringing his attention back to the present.

And there you are.

Like Lazarus returned. An angel bathed in low, red light. Your hair spills around your shoulders framing that face he knows so well, one he’s held more times than he can count. A face that made him pray to a god he does not believe in every day to get back. Just once. Those unmistakable pearls grace your neck, the ruby latch glinting as you twist your neck and tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I’ll be your Companion tonight.” You say so softly. Almost the way you used to, laid up in his bed, whispering about nothing and everything with your fingers running through his hair. Asking about the things he’s seen with such awe.

“What happened t’ Cherry?” Kyle asks faux casually. John can feel the tension in the man next to him. He’s feeling it out - always so good at that. Better at human subtleties than the rest of them. His dark eyes sparkle, though, with a light John hasn’t seen in so long. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed it.

“She was unfortunately unable to come in tonight.” You slide the tray onto the table. You look the same. You sound the same. There’s a few new scars, some scratches here and there. A wariness in your eyes that wasn’t there before. Damage done to your skin that could only come from the lower city air.

Where have you been?

You shift nervously. “If I’m not to your standards-“

“Well, now, none of us said that.” John says far too quickly, smiling despite himself. It might not even be you. Maybe a doppelganger. A distant relative. A clone is more plausible. “What’s your name, dove?”

“Fancy.” And oh, John is sure his dead heart comes back to life. It is you. It has to be.

“Fittin’.” Johnny says, eyes raking over you. He might as well be vibrating, struggling to keep himself held back from yanking you into his hold.

They’re all measuring you up the same way he is. Feeling for anything unfamiliar. Outside of your distant, distrustful gaze with a lack of recognition that makes his chest ache, it’s you. It’s all you.

“Do you know who we are?” Simon murmurs. You’re having trouble looking at him, only meeting his gaze in small glances. Not so different from when they first met you. You and Simon have always had a certain… connection. Not that you weren’t all close - that they all didn’t love you deeply - but you and Simon had an understanding. He wonders if you can still feel it somewhere, deep down in the back of your mind.

You’re panicking a little, eyes flitting between their faces. John’s heart sinks. He feels it in the others. A deep disappointment - a turbulent melancholy- seeping into their bodies. You don’t know them. You don’t recognize a single one of them.

It’s all gone.

“It’s not a trick question.” Kyle says gently, ever one to soothe.

“No, sir.”

John’s heart breaks all over again.

A/N: My initial summary for this one was just “Fancy tripping balls on pollution while John and co. have a meltdown”

[vampiric-succulent]

OUAW EP 45:

Spoilers!!

“WHY DID WE DO THAT” yes Gricko why indeed

Bit quick to jump to nudity there Torbek

Gricko is just full of great ideas today

“You are familiar with mirages” THIS ALMIRAJ IS NO MIRAGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nikkie: “You don’t really understand how this works” Mace/Gideon, immediately: “I know exactly how this works”

This desert is getting eerily intense

I love how they’re showing Torbek gaining control of the Witchlight and the Other

“Together, as a unit, as you do everything, you decide to tackle this next obstacle” ACK MY HEART I FUCKING LOVE FOUND FAMILY SHIT THIS IS SO GOOD

How are y’all interpreting Gricko’s monstrosity connection? Bc I’ve been doing it as like a really enthusiastic zoologist but what if he’s also a monsterfucker

Sorry that was a little unhinged and sudden but I think i might be right he does have a thing for monstrous women who could decimate him with one move

Anyways!

Love how Frost always wants to talk first but Gideon is immediately “IM GONNA GETCHU”

Gideon is going to oneshot this tricobra/cobydra if he keeps this up

“Two attacks on Frost” “no thankyou ❤️”

OH SHIT KREMY’S DICE MOVE HUNGER OF HADAR. HOLY FUCK.

Rich is so good at flavoring this spell and its effects

Mace/Gideon “Don’t roll max against me” and then Rich doesn’t— that’s Kremy employing Husband Privilege right there

What is the realm they are talking about?? Ghettei? Gehettei? Whatever realm they say Kremy is bringing with Hunger of Hadar

Goddamn that’s a lot of damage at once

Torbek and Gideon and Hootsie bro moment 😎

“Torbek accidentally Longscarfed him” 😭❤️

WHAT IS THIS FUCKING LIGHT?????????

Love how Nikkie just keeps repeating the generic desert description like an NPC in a game when you try to talk to them too much

HOLY SHIT okay 1. The immersion hell yeah 2. Why. Why is there a swamp here again. The swamp was supposed to be gone. There wasn’t supposed to be more swamp.

SERIOUSLY WHY IS THERE A SWAMP

“Blow on my dice” there is no heterosexual explanation for this

Now I have this horrible image in my head of Kremy pulling an Entrapta and going “I just need a little more time”

GRICKO DONT CALL TO MR GARU

“I am the thing that remains when the alphabet is gone” this is giving me such a good idea for a Tower of Babel campaign wait a minute

Ah yes just like the 1999 classic film The Mummy—- *I am forcibly removed from the stage*

It IS TIME!!!!!!!!!!! HOLY FUCK HES RIGHT

Is. Is the swoose sounding like Bavlorna on purpose. Is this a plot thing. Please this is so important—- Bc there’s an hourglass on the archway, so it has to be time and also maybe the voice is important— Oh. Okay. So not like Bavlorna.

What is the realization Andy is having???? Oh my god I need to know

Does the fact that this is Nekhbet and the lion-headed guardian mean Egyptian mythology at all influences this part of the story? And maybe the Hourglass Coven in some sort of way if this temple is here? Was this temple originally of the Hourglass Coven, or was it taken over???

The emotion in Mace’s storytelling is incredible and then he has a your mom joke. Alright.

Andy and Mikey’s reactions are beautiful things to watch

“We’ve been free ever since”

Fic idea: Kremy and Gideon get married and uh. Yknow Gricko’s entire thing about getting Pa Coal to come to one of Gideon’s weddings? Somehow that happens but it’s a really sad moment bc Pa Coal is dead so it’s an urn and Gideon gets to have a moment just talking to the urn

OH SHIT THE BIRTH OF THE HAGS?!?!??? Wait wait wait I have so many questions— to be made into a hag, do they need to find this temple first?? Does this temple somehow lead to the hag hut??? What is the thing that drinks the brew in the hag hut?????? How did that being come to exist???????? How is this temple connected to the thing that makes the hags???????? Is this a temple of time or of memories and records????

What is the process of making a hag??? Do all hags come about via this process????

Wait a minute. We had a white horse and rider statue, now we have a red one— if the next one is black then these are the riders of Baba Yaga and maybe that is who makes all the hags— like a sort of Mother Hag situation??

Frost is right, I think, this is also a story or situation or whatever about choice (esp bc of the swoose at the entrance)

I need a series which is just Gricko explaining everything that’s happened in the campaign in extreme detail

“We hit rock bottom and we picked up shoooveeeelllls.”

Ayo Bavlorna what the fuck— Endolyn’s story was terrible but this is another level

So these hags are not actually sisters then? Or are they sisters because they all come from the same source? (Whatever makes the hags)

Yuuuup I was right about the riders!!!!!

Idk why but Kremy’s story hits for me

Nikkie this is so impressive. Holy shit— this isn’t in the module. She wrote these backstories herself. Wow.

And the flipped time order of everything!!! And the Granny Nightshade symbolism

Wait blue roses??? Like the ones in Twig’s eyes???????

WHAT IF THIS IS THE KINGDOM OF HEARTS DESIRE WHAT IF THEY ARE AT THE DOOR RN

Andy what are you doing

Oh shit. Next is the fabled Episode 46. Ohhhh lord. What’s gonna happen………

How much time has passed for the Feywild while they’re in the material plane???

Gahhhh!!!! The lore!!!!!!!!!!!! So good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wait okay there’s a connection to Prime but I haven’t watched Prime and it’s 91 episodes there’s no way I can watch all that rn but I NEED TO KNOW THE AVANTRIS LORE AND WHAT THE CONNECTION IS OMFG

So much happened!!!!! Holy fuck!!!!!!!!! And next is Episode 46 I’m gonna have my brain explode

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x22 There's No Place Like Home (Part 3)

Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 826

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (28)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Notes: I knew there was no way I could stick to just one drabble an episode for the CS movie, so I didn't even try. There will be 2 drabbles for 3x21 and 4 for 3x22. They are all written, so the plan is to post one per day until they're all posted.

Now what?

Emma turned in a circle, looking around Rumplestiltskin’s vault–so tall and vast, she couldn’t see the ceiling.  So compact there was no door or window.  Had they fixed the past only to die of hunger, thirst or suffocation?

Could they ever get a break?

She turned to see Killian picking up an urn and perusing it, and her heart rate spiked. “Wait! Don’t touch anything!” she said insistently. “If Rumple’s afraid of this stuff, there’s gotta be a reason.”

He placed the item back on a shelf, and turned to her, arms wide in a placating gesture. “I’m just trying to figure a way out.”

He was always the optimist.  Unfortunately, her optimism had all but run out.  They were at the end of the line.  “I don’t think there is one, and what’s the point?  You heard what he said; he can’t reopen the portal.”

Killian stepped forward, and gave her an intense look–one filled with hope and belief.  “But you can! All he said we need is magic.  You’re the savior, Swan. You can do it.”

Her heart plummeted. He always had such complete and indefatigable faith in her, but in this instance, she knew that faith was misplaced.  Her hands were tied, and she was of no more use in this situation than was the unconscious woman Killian had gently placed on the table.

“Not anymore.  I lost it,” she said simply.

A hint of something else–desperation? Frustration? Irritation?-- crept into his eyes as he stepped forward and spoke again. “When Zelena died, all of her spells were undone. Your powers should have been restored.”

What was he implying?

“Believe me, if I could make it work, I would,” she said shortly.  “You think I’m faking it?”

For the barest of moments, he hesitated, and she knew he was debating with himself whether or not to say what was on his mind.  A look of determination came over his face, and she knew he’d made his choice.

“I think not having magic makes it a hell of a lot easier for you to run back to New York and pretend to be somebody else,” he said, stepping closer to her, “but listen to me Swan. You’re not.  It’s time to stop running.”

It wasn’t fair of her after running so insistently from him and her real life for the past couple weeks; she knew that, but she couldn’t stop the frustration from mounting. “You think I don’t know that?” she bit out. “Yes, I run away; that’s how I’ve always survived, but believe me. I want this to work. I wanna go back; I wanna stop running.”

His eyebrows rose at that.  “What’s changed your mind?”

Emma thought back to last night when they’d found her mother again and Blue had been able to restore her.  She couldn’t hold herself back.  The joy and relief had been so strong she couldn’t possibly do anything but take her mother into her arms, laughing and crying, as she held on, cupping the back of Mary Margaret’s head.

“You’re alive!” she’d nearly sobbed.

When the hug came to an end, she looked at her mother to see nothing but a look of confusion. “Thank you. It would appear so.” 

Something inside of Emma had broken.  Suddenly, in a moment of total clarity, she’d seen the truth.  

She needed her family and she loved them more than anything.  Everything else had fallen away, all the fear, all the delusion.  She decided right then and there that whatever it took, she wanted to get back to her family–her current family, the ones who knew her and loved her and would be devastated if she left.  She wanted to get back and she didn’t ever want to leave again.

She did her best to convey all of this to Killian, pouring out her thoughts and emotion.  “Neal was right,” she finished.

“About what?” he asked, voice gentle.

“You don’t have a home until you just miss it,” she answered. “And being with my parents the last few days but not really being with them, I’ve never missed them more. Storybrooke is my home.”

It was the first time she’d spoken the words aloud, but she knew with absolute certainty that they were true.  Home, the word, the concept, the fact that she was ready to embrace hers left her feeling such warmth and belonging that it was as if it were spreading through her veins, to her very fingertips.

Killian smiled down at her, and she couldn’t stop her answering smile.  “What?” she asked.

“Look down,” he answered simply.

The wand she still held in her hand was glowing a bright, vibrant white, and Emma knew Killian was right.  Her magic was back.  All she’d needed to do was embrace it, embrace her home and family and destiny.

“I’d say you got your magic back,” he continued. “Now, should we go?”

Nothing in the world sounded better.

NEXT CHAPTER->

[sitp-recs]

Hello, I was wondering if you have fic recommendation that explore dark magic or just old ancient magic, I really like "evitative", "oath breaker" and "a pocket full of stones". Perhaps, something similar to the last one :D. I would be so thankful if you have some.

Hi anon! The fics you mentioned are fantastic and they often come to mind when I get asks about dark magic. I listed some additional recs below and I’d strongly recommend checking Lomonaaeren and Zeitgeistic’s catalogue for more creative takes on magic. Enjoy!

The Slytherin Urn by ICMezzo (E, 4.5k)

Nothing turns Harry on quite like redemption.

Justice's Voice by Lomonaaeren (M, 7k)

After a case he botched, Auror Harry Potter has to train with Draco Malfoy to learn the difference between Dark magic, which he doesn’t always have to pursue, and evil magic, which the Aurors were formed to eradicate. He didn’t expect his lessons to get so…intense.

Like Diamonds We Are Cut With Our Own Dust by raitala (T, 11k)

Draco has borne the mark of the Dark Lord for over ten years. It is familiar to him, but he pays the price for it every day, and Harry has noticed.

Survivor's Joy by Lomonaaeren (M, 24k)

Harry works for the Aurors. Draco works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. There’s not much reason for them to meet—until someone starts selling diluted Wolfsbane potion, and they find out just how much the years since the war have moved them both on from simply surviving.

In Our Blood by secretsalex (E, 37k)

Draco is an accomplished pure-blood curse breaker, and Harry is tasked with accompanying him on his latest job—cleaning up the Van Boer mansion, which has been under a devastating fertility curse for seven generations.

Dark Wizards, Dark Wizards Everywhere by agentmoppet (M, 47k)

Seven years after the war, Harry Potter is feeling disillusioned with life. Partnered with Draco Malfoy, it is their job as elite Aurors to defeat dark and powerful witches and wizards. But what if there aren't any? What if all there is to life is a well filed tax return? ...Or what if they're wrong?

The Compact by astolat (E, 64k)

Hermione frowned. “The real question is why the magic of Britain would be failing now, in fact.” “That is not the real question!” Ron said loudly; he’d woken up fully by now, and Harry had too; it was starting to sink in that they’d found the problem. “The real question is, how do we fix it?”

Breathe Me by kedavranox (E, 73k)

Since the singular incident of being a Horcrux for many years has left Harry with a sensitivity to Dark magic, Harry begins training with Jacob, a Wizard who lives in New York, using this sensitivity to his advantage to cleanse magical spaces of Dark magic.

Forgive Those Who Trespass by Lomonaaeren (E, 135k)

Harry Potter was convinced he had an ordinary, if inconvenient, life. Then Ron and Hermione vanished in the Department of Mysteries. And the only person who may know where they are is a mute Draco Malfoy.

Shibboleths by zeitgeistic (E, 109k)

Muggle Immersion co-Professor Harry Potter spends his days hanging with his son, reading to his "dog," teaching magical kids about the internet with his cousin Dudley, and irritating Snape’s portrait. He’s understandably annoyed when his cosy life is interrupted by the Headmistress hiring on Draco Malfoy to be Hogwarts’ new Ancient Magical Cultures and Spellcasting professor.

Eclipse by Mijan (T, 287k)

Draco swore his revenge on Harry for Lucius's imprisonment, and Harry all but laughed at him. But Draco is planning more than schoolyard pranks this time. The old rivalry turns deadly when Draco abducts Harry for Voldemort. It's the perfect plan, guaranteeing revenge, power, and prestige, all in one blow. But when Draco's world turns upside down, the fight to save himself and Harry begins, and the battle will take them both through hell and back. If they come back.

The Hush of War by zeitgeistic (E, 351k)

Voldemort has made a bargain with Harry to stop killing muggles and muggle-borns (when at all possible, of course) in exchange for Harry's cooperation. While Harry thinks he's using the time to find a way to defeat the Dark Lord, he will realize that Voldemort is always one step ahead, and so long as he isn't killing anyone...what's the big deal? He has bigger things to worry about now, anyway.

[fixomnia-scribble]

WIP Wednesday

Whoa, LONG time no WIP Wednesday.

In among everything else going on, I’ve been playing with a sequel/homage to @unreliablenarratorink​‘s gorgeous, intense “Sleepless”. Specifically the idea of pulling Gillian and Cal out from their pocket-universe of drunken confessional canoodling on the cozy study couch, and into the light of day the morning after. So this is the first bit of Gillian’s slightly hung over PoV, about five hours after “Sleepless” closes.

Daybreak

Gillian wakes at seven, as always. She’s alone on the couch in the study. It’s hardly the first time she’s woken here, after a nap or a late work crisis. It’s not unusual for Cal to pull the old soft blanket over her, just as she does when she finds him here. Something is different. Her eyes focus on a large single pink dahlia, filched from one of the patio urns, standing in a mug at eye level on the coffee table. A larger mug of water waits pointedly beside it. The small cushion that’s left embroidered patterns in her cheek has a faint warmed scent of Cal and of her, and of scotch breath.

She smiles at the dahlia, pulls herself nearly upright and rubs her temples, relieved that Cal is not there to witness the succession of thoughts that pass over her face. He knows exactly what scanning for last nights’ demons looks like, and the last thing she wants is for him to start second-guessing himself. She rolls her neck slowly, and pulls herself together enough to drink down the water, finger-pick the worst of the frizz from her hair and locate her shoes. The fact that she’s forty-three and doesn’t need to pee first thing is not a good harbinger of the day ahead. Should have hydrated before she slept, but…distracted.

Cal and warmth and safety and a buzz of arousal that nearly turned crackling hot and finally, finally, the words and the truth.

No demons? Cannot be determined at this time.

Giddy stomach flutters: present. Chorus-singing butterflies in attendance.

“Love when you’re being silly. ‘S very sexy.”

What about pensive and extremely sober on the morning after? Follow up: the morning after what, exactly?

He told her everything last night. She never gave him a reply, her attention shot between absorbing the impact of his (words? face? erection?) and drunkenly coasting on the glowing intimacy between them. Which means that, come this morning, he’s going to poke and provoke and point in her face and do whatever it takes to get a genuine reaction out of her. He won’t be able to help himself. 

Well, she's the one who opened the first bottle and demanded the truth, and he obliged.

She groans quietly to herself and rubs her temples again.

She gets to her feet and carries her shoes with her through Cal’s office and into the corridor. Cal is still not in evidence. No smell of coffee from the breakroom, either. The soft pot-lights switch on overhead, precisely ten feet ahead of her, with every step, till she’s in her own office. She flicks open the blinds, squints at the bright but shifting weather, and collects a set of workout gear and a spare outfit from the closet in the corner. She pulls a face at her sneakers, and begins to make her way to the gym three floors up. Not penance but experience: flush the system early and often.

And with luck, instill some rational thought in the butterflies before coming face to face with Cal Lightman.

[punksocks]

Astrology Observations Pt.2

Only based of my personal experiences, take them with a grain of salt!

Sagittarius moon parents can sometimes become resentful of their children. Children’s constant emotional needs can make an underdeveloped Sagittarius moon feel constricted and bound to the child. They urn to escape any situation they feel stuck in. Also Sagittarius is the opposite of Gemini which rules the 3rd house. The 3rd house is tied to youth and communication, which can bring underlying tension to the relationship. Often a Sagittarius moon parent will seemingly suddenly become very invested in their children after they have become independent adults/older teens and the Sagittarius moon feels like the relationship is no longer tying them down.

If you have strong Black Moon Lilith aspects, along with having strong desirable energy and difficulty relating to traditional feminine figures, you may have fertility issues possibly in the form of a chronic illness.

Prominent Lilith placements/aspects invoke extreme and sometimes domineering reactions from others but let this be your litmus test for people that deserve your time.

Planets that touch your pluto will be amplified in their energy. Venus Pluto aspects can even make a Sagittarius venus individual become very intense and clingy, even if they will still leave abruptly if you fail to meet their standards. They will attract more controlling partners as well. Moon Pluto aspects can make a Taurus moon individual have shockingly intense emotional outbursts or spirals even.

Strong Lilith aspects may have to grow out of thinking they want to attain traditionally feminine goals. Lilith thought she wanted to be the perfect wife to Adam, but when he tried to become domineering she realized her freedom and happiness was worth so much more than her original goals. Lilith rising/aspects to your rising? You may have worked to appear traditionally feminine in an awkward phase of life that never really seemed to fit you. Lilith touching 11th? You may have always craved a girl group and to have a close circle of feminine friends, but you have been hurt by many of those people instead when they desired you too intensely and/or turned on you. These friends may have even aligned against you to form a girl group explicitly opposed to you. A lot of Lilith is about unlearning discomfort with alternative paths of life and forms of expression.I believe strong Lilith aspects are just as intense and about learning lessons ad Pluto and Saturn aspects can be. (I’m a Scorpio rising and Capricorn stellium)

Pisces/Neptune influencing the big 3 can bring out a creativity like no other. Ethereal and otherworldly in the ways they’re able to express themselves and their talents.

Explore your 2nd house placements to find out what physical experiences can make you feel grounded and safe. Venus in 2nd house? Catching up with friends over a meal or going out on a dinner date could really be rejuvenating for you. Mercury in 2nd house? Try writing in a journal, writing out your feelings or creative story writing might really refresh your energy. 2nd is ruled by Taurus, treat yourself to some physical experiences to lift your spirits.

[nlghtshade]

♡ may 2022 favorites

sorry this is late 😭 irl has been busy busy as usual - may felt so so long but also how is it already june 😭 i haven't really had time to take a breath and deeply appreciate everything that's been coming out but for sure my reading list has gotten so much longer and my eyes have been blessed with such beautiful art from all of the amazing recs and fests going on and i am just so grateful for this fandom !!

sending extra ♡ to @phd-mama for her #may we life each other up series, @thebooktopus for her May Flowers Rec Lists, @sitp-recs for their #hidden gems rec lists, @celila-reblogs and all the participants for all the amazing @lcdrarry works coming out !! thank you thank you ♡

FIC

Talk Sense to a Fool, and He Calls you Foolish by @written-in-ash

Another Greek God AU, woohoo! Written for @drarrymicrofic prompt: Fool

Microfic: Friends by @drarrily-we-row-along

400 words written for the @drarrymicrofic prompt: friends.

Teeth (2020, Explicit, 5.9k) by @amelior8or

Potter’s been practically begging for it, for months, constantly staring until the air crackles with the intensity of it. Draco always stares back, until all it takes is a brush, a spark, before they go up like flash paper. The crash into each other is inevitable. Draco’s heart has got teeth. And there is nothing he won’t do to keep up the fight with Harry fucking Potter.

golden rim, slightly chipped by @rockingrobin69

Dear Anon, these are weird times, and your message meant so much to me that I somehow managed to delete it. I have no idea how to thank you other than reposting this - 700 words, extending on today’s domaystic drabble, very much for you. sorry love you sorry THANK YOU

Sweden | A Midsummer Night’s Dream (2020, E, 5.5k) by @drarrelie

With the war finally over, you’d think Harry would finally be granted that “normal life” he’s always dreamt about. Finally free from the Dursleys, from that nose-less megalomaniac, from Horcruxes, Hollows, Death Eaters, Dementors, Prophecies… you’d think that he, for the first time in his life, would be allowed to be just a normal teenager. You’d think he’d deserve that much, right? But then you haven’t considered Luna Lovegood. Luna, who has the most whimsical ideas that no one ever takes seriously. Luna, who apparently has Swedish heritage and knows about some strange Summer Solstice ritual that she wants to perform. Luna, who’s so sweet and kind that you can’t help but humour her when she offers you some distraction from your post-war confusion. Harry knows he should’ve known better, knows he shouldn’t have let her persuade him to go through with it. But he did. And now, Harry’s life will probably never be normal again.

Scotland | I’m Terrified, But the Truth is This… (2020, T, 7.3k) by @jessica-doom

Okay, so…Draco Malfoy has a thing for Harry Potter. Honestly, how could he not? When Harry invites him to be his "date" to his friends' wedding, Draco goes all-in on a soul-bearing display of his real feelings for the man. Once it becomes obvious that he misinterpreted Harry's intentions, Draco begins to feel like all hope has been lost on his Chosen One ever returning those feelings. Through the magic of the Summer Solstice (and perhaps a bit too much wine), he finally finds the courage to take his shot.

Decadent (E, 50 words) & Good (E, 350 words) by @tenthousandyearsx

Mirrored Dreams (2017, M, 4.5k) by @fleetofshippyships

Harry and Draco are back at Hogwarts for a reunion when they stumble across a very familiar mirror.

Day 260: Chain by @drarrily-we-row-along

The Slytherin Urn (2015, E, 4.6k) by @icmezzo

Nothing turns Harry on quite like redemption.

In Flight (2022, Gen, 4.8k) by Jen_814

“I could murder you,” Draco said conversationally, “I could willingly slit your throat about now, you know that right?” “You’ve been threatening to murder me for years,” reflected Harry. “Bit of an all talk, no trousers kind of a situation, isn’t it?” -- After some accidental magic (not completely Harry's fault), Harry & Draco are stuck together, thirteen hours in the past.

The High Priestess by @onbeinganangel (part of their Tarot Card Drabbles)

content: draco/harry, first person pov, legilimency, love confessions, idiots to lovers

What’s New, Buenos Aires? (2013, E, 9.3k) by @kedavranox

Draco and Harry are in the Portkey business! Hijinks ensue, Draco has a few panic attacks, Harry is seriously fit, and somehow they're stranded in Argentina.

There’s A Thunder Inside My Heart (It’s A Wonderful Pleasure) (2019, E, 9.8k) by @serenecalamity

Draco loves what he and Harry have.

fervour by @orange-peony

Written for @drarrymicrofic with the prompt "fervour". Rated M for mention of sex.

ART

memento mori by @swymsuyt

HP au where Draco starts to spend Christmas holidays at the Burrow and just loves Molly’s jumpers! by @oh-no-i-did-it

Harry Potter & Draco Malfoy by @arbutus-blossoms

Eighth year, maybe? What are they talking about? 👀 by @cuckooboo

drarry kiss by @darylsleftboob

it’s a harry~~ & Faster, Paddy! by @luendland

Imustnottelllies by @2334242xiao

House Tour: YOUR SAVIOUR LIVES LIKE THIS?!?! by @pontah

Harry & Draco portraits by @havdd-art

Muggle Date ✨ by @snarkyships-drarryside commissioned by @kantanruru

Snow Smooch ❄️ by @melcarrianna

the boys are shocked at their own daring (aaand it was probably an Excellent Kiss, let’s be real) by @skarhead

the golden trio. by @tae-rhr

suds fest video by @bluebutter-art

p.s. happy pride !!! 💖💜💙

♡ january ♡ february ♡ march ♡ april

[angelicsentinel]

Unsure if you're still interested in sharing WIP snippets, but if you are - I love your fic Candy and Gin. I know there's the implication of an eventual chapter two. Do you have anything from that work in progress you'd want to post?

I'll share my work almost anytime I'm asked. It's more than an implication, it's about half done. ~1500 of 3000 words. I keep this blog sfw, and most of what I have written down is Shiho's and Shinichi's love scene, but I can share some.

Reminder it's a first draft and incredibly rough. The block is in the first scenes; it has to cover the salient points of canon and build to the ShinShi ending. That transition is easy enough, but for characterization purposes I do have to go over some canon for it to work, and that's the part I'm dreading, so. Enjoy (?)

-

Candy and Gin, 002

The thing of it is, Shiho likes the pain. It's a reminder not to let her guard down. She guards it closely, keeps it tight and near and dear to her heart. 

She knows what happens when she stops thinking of it. The evidence lies in the kamidana in the Professor’s basement, a small urn of ashes next to sticks of incense, an infinitesimal space she keeps for herself and for her sister. 

(her parents are gone; she left them behind, only able to take herself. She’s an ocean of regrets, but what’s one more black line in her blood ledger?)

It is good to have it present in her line of sight while she works; she might forget otherwise. 

And it’s dangerous to forget. But it’s happening more and more. It’s all too easy to lose herself with the children. Such bright little souls, with their petty joys and petty cruelties. She’s not that innocent. She never was, not even at their age. She was nothing but a poison, left to steep and grow bitter and deadly. At that age, more from instinct than conscious choice, she decided to keep herself frozen—a glacier, cold and contained. 

But no matter how cold she is, they still surround her, agonizing in their warmth, melting her ice-cold heart bit by bit.

The cold is there to keep the poison away, the part of her that kills and kills and kills again, insidious and deadly. But they are the embers on the fire in the dead of winter, and her icy heart melts and melts and melts. 

But they pale in comparison to him. 

If Gin is cool, unyielding metal, a silver alloy of fear and pain, then Kudō is fire, hot enough to burn her alive, spreading from the inside out.

But warm and comforting at a distance, and it is this distance Ai keeps. But he shines bright like the bare sun, almost too much to watch directly, and yet Ai finds herself unable to look away.

When his hand rests in hers, it's ephemeral light.

This light too, she could kill with just a word. But she wants. Oh, how she wants, with a strength she never had, with an intensity she thought was long dead with her parents. 

Shiho fights to keep herself frozen, but the ice cracks, and her love leaks through the dam of her heart. 

But she still has enough sense to keep it hidden. Luckily for her, genius though he is, he’s always been an idiot in matters of the heart, and so her poison will not spread today.

-

The parting is surprisingly amicable.

To see them fail is to see her own hopes crash. If those two, the ones she sees as the pinnacle of romance can’t remain together, where does that leave her? What chance can she possibly have to find her own happiness? None, that’s what. 

(even if a traitorous part of her heart yearns at this unexpected chance)

-

Kudō has her caged against the wall and her heart is racing, but not from fear. She marvels at the deep abyss inside his blue eyes, how different this feels from Gin’s embrace. His grip on her wrist is tight but doesn’t hurt. His shoulders, while broad, are not the vast imposing expanse of Gin’s, and they radiate heat. The warmth of him is so enticing she nearly breaks there. 

(but she can’t, she can’t, no matter how—no, it’s unbearable, she can’t) 

And his face is so soft; his eyes, so unbearably fond. He’s chewing his lip, belying his confident words. 

She could kill him with one word. ‘No’ would undoubtedly do it. He would respect it, and never ask again.

The power in that word is heady. She wants to do it. She wants to destroy him as easily as he could destroy her. 

Shiho licks her lips. The part of her that yearns for him can’t do it. But she still cannot speak. So instead, she slips her hand into his shirt, curling against the small of his back, bringing him close. 

His hand slips under her blouse in exchange, and he pins her against the wall with his body weight. Far from being oppressive, it’s enticing, and it is that feeling that drives her to close the distance between them and kiss him. 

[burningcerberus]

HIDE AND SEEK

By

Aealo

Summary:

Sansa Stark gets lost exploring Red Keep's infamous and dangerous network of ancient, hidden passageways.

As usual, The Hound comes to the timely rescue. Or does he have a more sinister, nefarious purpose for being there in the first place?

SANSAN one shot. No angst. Pure smut. Contradiction in terms? Pardon the pun. This is not HBO show version. BOOK CANON Age & Appearance, (big muscled physique, slight anger/alcohol issues and no odd-AF half-beard as per book for Sandor, because facial hair with 3rd degree burns is just not going to fly) Sansa is aged up to 16 for story purposes. Sandor Clegane age unchanged at 27. If this age gap makes you uncomfortable, please skip this fic as it includes explicit content and sexual tension.

Notes:

Author's Note:

First off, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed; kudosed & bookmarked my first humble SANSAN offering As Above So Below. I appreciate you all! From the bottom of my heart, Thank you. You keep me going and writing more.

Here we are with another SanSan ficlet. Alright, let's call it smut-fest and leave it there? Heh. Not much romance in this one. Okay, a little bit. (Strange huh) No angst to speak of. (Ok, strange is an understatement now, as I live and breathe Romance&Angst.)

Not much of a purple prose in this one either.

Just shameless smut and unresolved (or shall we say semi-resolved?) sexual tension. Smut. I did mention smut, did I not?

Perhaps a sprinkling of romantic tension, too. Petty Petyr, Varys and Lady Margeary are briefly mentioned because drama.

As usual, Book version SanSan. Not the HBO show version. Once again guys, Fair warning: Sandor remains unchanged at age 27, Sansa is aged up to 16 (Westerosi age of consent) for story purposes. If you are uncomfortable with the age gap, I'd definitely skip this. So, a bit of OOC, a pinch of a canon divergence simply because of Sansa age.

Sansa is a bit OOC. Less of a sook. Girl has backbone. Or she is hormonal, take your pick.

Oh, Common sense, wherefore?

I hope you guys enjoy it. Please drop me a note or a kudos if you do. I would most definitely appreciate your support, keeps me going.

If you don't, no dramas. Can't please everyone; in Ned Kelly's immortal words: 'Such is Life.'

Compulsory Authors Note 2:

Just to clear a few things up, I have nothing against the HBO show or Rory McCann & Sophie Turner; it's just that I much prefer the book version characters, especially when it comes to the Hound. I've always envisioned a passionate, intense young(ish) man in his prime at 26-28 according to the books, and muscled and built like a tank as per book, with varying degrees of anger/alcohol issues, not a 40+ year old who seems subdued and sort of toned down, shadow version of himself if that makes sense.

Hound is described as cleanly shaven in the books, or rather, he is not said to have a beard or stubble in the books, and I agree it is not only a much better look for Sandor Clegane, but half a beard would look downright weird AF! - As facial hair wouldn't grow on the burned side! I get that hair might grow back depending on the severity of burns but come on mate; do Sandor's scars look 1st or 2nd degree burns to you, with his jaw bone showing, skin and muscle seared away so badly that from the description we can easily surmise his burns are -at the very least- 3rd degree? Think about it. Why do you think the man brushes his hair over that burned scalp? Exactly.

As for Sophie Turner, the actor is lovely and all, but she just does not fit my vision of book Sansa.

Anyhow, without further ado,

I give you…

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

'Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter.'

Ode on a Grecian Urn - John Keats

HIDE AND SEEK 

SANSA

Sansa was lost.

Utterly, hopelessly lost.

Her apprehension grew as she progressed deeper into the network of hidden passageways built into the Red Keep, her only source of light coming from the waxen remains of a rapidly melting stub in its brass holder.

When Sansa had undertaken this daring -alright, make that foolish- adventure on a curious -harebrained- impulse, she could not have foreseen the daunting task of having to navigate an entirely stuffy, and endlessly confusing labyrinthine passageways that seemed to connect, extend and stretch on for forever. Twisting, winding passages occasionally led to nondescript doors, all locked and barred from the inside. 

Sansa had heard that if one followed a certain route and knew what they were looking for in the way of markers and waypoints, one would eventually emerge in the dangerous underground tunnels that led to Blackwater. 

Or, straight into the Dungeons.

Oh, wonderful. 

With my rotten luck, I know where I am more likely to end up…

By the Sweet Seven, Sansa thought, these passages all look similar! The layout was even more confusing than the rules of Cyvasse. For a moment, Sansa pondered whether she should retrace her steps all the way back to the cellars. If she did not return to Meagor's Holdfast in time for the evening bell, Joff would send the Kingsguard to look for her! That meant more beatings and punishments. Not even Lady Margeary would be able to subdue and stay the King's psychopathic cruelties this time.

She let out a dismal little sigh, her gut churning with the unpleasant memories.

Sansa hoped, nay, prayed that if anyone did come looking, at least the Hound would be tasked to bring her back.

The man was blunt, harsh, rude and arrogant but at least he treated her with…What? Kindness? 

That has to be it, decided Sansa. The Hound was gentle-ish, in his own way. He was the only one who had come to her aid during the riots, even abandoning his own beloved black warhorse, Stranger, to look for her and rescue her. My hero…Not to mention standing up to his King in front of the whole court and cloaking her 

half nakedness. 

Well, he threw his cloak at her to be precise, but still. The man clearly cared for her to an extent. 

How gallant and courageous the Hound is underneath that snapping bark, thought Sansa with a little, dreamy sigh. So very brutally strong too, to have taken on that frenzied mob on his own. Swoon!

Sweet Maiden, he is so huge and fierce in that dark plate of his. Swoon indeed!

Twas true, the Hound was not exactly pleasing to the eye…well alright, he was downright frightening and naturally intimidating with those gruesome burn scars twisting all over the left side of his face and throat, but for some peculiar and unknown reason, Sansa found Sandor Clegane…appealing. And exciting.

It had nothing to do with his muscles and size, of course, right Sansa Stark? 

Alright, Sansa, you can stop drooling, anytime now.

Appealing? Exciting? 

Oh by the Maiden…What am I thinking?

I am a flighty little bird after all, thought Sansa, with the oddest notions in my head.

Cease your daydreaming and concentrate on the task at hand, Sansa Stark! 

Sansa held her melting candle aloft and followed the narrow, cobwebbed passage. The erratically flickering, weakened flame threw sinister shadows across the dripping walls.

By the Sweet Heavens, tis revolting! This whole place is just awful! 

Sansa grimaced at the musty, rust coloured stains oozing down the walls. To make matters worse, the hem of her saffron yellow skirts and little half-boots were already grimy with a disgusting substance of unknown origin. She felt the gossamer caresss of yet another large cobweb hanging from the ceiling. Something scurried past her feet.

Rats! 

Yuck! Gross!!! 

Sansa cringed in disgust and gave the rodents a wide berth. However, Sansa Stark had more pressing problems. 

Her already dim candle flickered unsteadily in the sudden icy draught that rushed into the corridor. The weak light could not withstand the cold gust of wind. 

Suddenly entombed in near complete pitch darkness, Sansa nearly jumped out of her skin with panic and fright. 

Uh oh.

By the Seven Heavens! No! 

I do not want to be stuck in this airless, narrow space with no light, with only Gods knew what else dwelled in the dark!

Why oh why did I not bring an extra taper?

Lesson learned, Sansa.

I have to keep going.

In a frantic bid to find an exit, Sansa blindly groped about and rounded another sharp corner.

Just as her eyes were slowly adjusting to the lack of light, Sansa heard the scrape of a boot in the dark.

With a sudden chill of realization, Sansa realized she was no longer alone. Panic, despair and dread crawled down Sansa's spine. 

Oh by all the Old Gods and the New, who can it be?? Lord Varys? 

Her heart pounding a loud staccato beneath her ribcage, Sansa paused for a moment to concentrate on the sound that was rapidly filtering into her awareness.

Heavy boots. Creaking leather. Clanking spurs. 

By the Mother and Maiden! Who can it be?? Friend or foe? There was no telling who could be roaming these passages.

Whoever it might be, mayhap they know a way out of this awful place? They surely must. I don't want to be stuck here! I have to risk it!

"Hello?" Sansa called out warily. Her voice sounded like a nervous little squeak in the dark.

She received no response. 

"Who is there?" Sansa chirped out, thoroughly unnerved and trepidatious now.

Utter, persistent, dead silence.

Suddenly, the footsteps sped up towards her.

Sansa gasped, her imagination taking wild flight and conjuring all sorts of monstrous entities that might be lurking in the dark and laying in wait to ensnare and gobble up foolish little birds like herself.

The steps were getting closer. Long, heavy, aggressive stride. Uh oh.

Sansa's frantic haste to get away from the frightening, unknown presence resulted in her slipping on a slimy puddle on the already slippery ground. She shrieked.

"Aahh! Mmpff-

Suddenly, a big hand clamped over Sansa's mouth, cutting off her screams. Sansa was pulled back against a towering, very strong, very hard and very male body, steadying her and holding her indecently close. Sansa froze in fear.

SANDOR

Fuck me sideways! 

This girl is constantly falling arse over teat. 

Speaking of…

She looks so damned good in that saffron coloured dress that accentuates her high, perky breasts, with a lavender sash around her tiny waist, highlighting the enticingly swaying divine curve of her hips. Her waist length wavy hair tied back in a thick auburn braid with a lemon yellow satin ribbon…

Practically glowing in the dark.

Certainly looks the part of a rainbow summer bird for true. 

Clumsy, daft, tiresome, pretty little bird…

Smells good too.

Damn and thrice blast, but Sansa bloody Stark is fragrant like a lush spring garden, all sweetly budding blooms and fresh, ripening fruits…

Buggering Hells, Dog! Forget all of that! What the fuck is she doing here?!?

"Another game of hide and seek, little bird?"

The Hound's deep rasp sounded directly behind Sansa, whispering into her bright auburn hair. 

He took his hand from her mouth, but did not set her free from the inflexible cage of his arms.

Sansa's heart fluttered. Her entire body was abuzz with excitement and hidden, secret yearnings generated and enhanced by the Hound's extremely close and potent proximity and amplified by the darkness that surrounded the two of them.

He was unarmoured? Garbed in some kind of plain spun woolen tunic and leather breeches from what she could feel.

Keep your groping hands to yourself, Sansa Stark!

"Oh, its you." Sansa chirped out brightly and slackened with instant relief against the Hound. "My lord, you scared me!" 

By the Mother and Maiden! This man is a life saver, Sansa thought. Literally. He always seems to mysteriously manifest out of the shadows to lend me timely assistance just when I'm about to fall or worse…

Scared you, did I?

"What else is new." Clegane muttered cynically under his breath, then brought his half-burnt lips to her ear, his warm breath gliding over her skin. "Keep your voice down, Birdling. We aren't alone here."

"Who else is wandering these halls, my lord?" 

Lord Varys, I expect, thought Sansa, the enigmatic man was fond of using these passages to eavesdrop on people. Tools of the trade.

Long raven hair brushed against Sansa's cheek as the Hound muttered in her ear. 

"Do you mean to tell me you have never heard of the phantom of Red Keep?" 

"No, my lord!" Sansa stifled a gasp of fascination and surprise, eyes going big and round with barely contained enthusiastic glee. "I was not aware the Keep was haunted? Do you suppose it is the restless shade of the Mad King, or mayhap a Targaryen ancestor? Oh I would dearly love to see a ghost!"

"Not quite." The Hound's whisper dropped a pitch lower, darker and deeper. His half-burnt mouth twitched.

"See, this particular entity cleaves to the shadows and appears when one least expects him. He stalks these passageways in search of lost little birds."

Sansa blinked a few times. 

Her heart skipped a beat. 

Is he…flirting with me???

By the Maiden! He so is! 

The rude and arrogant, stern and stoic Sandor Clegane, Hound, Kingsguard, Joff's Sworn Shield no less, is flirting with me! There was definitely a very suggestive undertone to that rasp!

Her ladylike manners and modesty momentarily flown from their carefully composed cage, Sansa hid her excited smile.

She drew a deep breath. The perpetual scent of steel, leather, spilt blood, sour red and male musk enfolded her from behind and seemingly all around, warmly melting into her skin, making Sansa blush a deep crimson. 

Her flushed skin was now very warm to the touch, as hot as the Hound's, in fact. Seized by a sudden wicked, mischevious impulse, Sansa whispered back softly.

"What does the apparition do when he 

finally captures the said bird, my lord?"

Sandor Clegane arched his good, heavy black brow.

The fuck!? 

Is Sansa bloody Stark flirting with me???

Me, Sandor of House Clegane, low born Westerman? 

Me, the big, scary Dog?

Not the reaction I was expecting, not that I am complaining. 

Here I thought she would recoil and cringe in terror.

Well, what do you know…

Brave, reckless little lady!

You're playing a dangerous little game here, Birdling. Way in over your head. 

I must admit you got me intrigued, however!

The Hound took Sansa's chin from behind, tilted her head back. Stared down into her huge blue eyes. 

"Why, he eats her up whole, of course." He breathed the words against her cherry mouth, a magnetic, sensual undertone to the husky, deep rasp. For a long moment, his mouth hovered over hers. Saw her eyes widen and lips tremble and part on instinct. His dusky hair drifted over Sansa's heart-shaped face as the Hound bent a little lower to plant a slow, lingering, possessive kiss on the hollow of her throat instead.

Ye Gods, but I'd fucking eat you alive, little songbird! 

I'd take my sweet time too, and slowly feed on your peachy smooth skin. Devour your soft, dewy flesh. 

If only I were not Kingsguard and Joff's Dog to boot…

Fuck's sake, Hound! Don't bite the hand that feeds you. 

Snap out of it, man.

Look but don't touch!

Too late now.

Game is on.

"Mmhh…" Sansa let out a soft moan before she could stop herself.

The fire ravaged, twitching half of the Hound's lips left a most peculiar and exceedingly pleasant impression on her smooth skin.

Like scratchy, crushed velvet. Oddly pleasant and very warm.

A deep shudder and molten heat as of a warm tongue licked down Sansa's spine, transforming into wetness pooling between her thighs. Her legs felt wobbly, her lower belly tingled and clenched with anticipation for more. 

By the Mother and Maiden!

This man is even more confident, bold and brazen than I initially thought.

Absolutely shameless.

Goodness gracious! 

He just kissed me!

Well, he kissed my throat, to be precise, but still!

He must be drunk as a lord!

Or is he?

I know I shouldn't stand for such impudent, lewdly vulgar behaviour, but…

I…think I…am falling! Crushing…Flying…

Is he amusing himself at my expense or is he as enamoured with me as I am with him?

Sansa lowered her voice to a softer whisper. Giggled nervously to cover her mounting embarrassment.

"In that case, your timing is impeccable, my lord. I have been wandering these corridors for the past hour or so in search of an exit, but I must confess I am a little lost." 

"With your abysmal sense of direction, is it any wonder?" The deep, gravelly rasp was layered with faint contempt. 

Sandor Clegane's arm encircled Sansa, pulling her closer and tighter against him, driven by a deep, instinctive desire to protect her and…

Fuck!

Look at this rare little bird all flushed and unresisting.

Unafraid!

So fucking pretty…

The Hound stared down at the beautiful, red-headed maid caught in his unyielding strong-hold, a faint, dark sneer twisting the fire ravaged corner of his mouth, silver grey eyes aglitter with passionate intensity.

So soft and tasty and enticing. I could just taste and take that pouting petal mouth and she could not do a thing about it.

Taste? Don't you mean plunder and ravage, you savage Dog?

You want gentle, girl? Too fucking bad.

Speaking of petals…

I bet she smells and tastes like paradise between those pretty, long legs of hers. 

Untouched and unsullied. 

Pure and wholesome.

All strawberries and cream. 

Dewy with heavenly nectar. 

Sealed nice and tight…

Fuck! 

Get your mind out of the gutter this instant, man. Down, Hound.

"Well, since you are here, my lord, perhaps you might show me the way? Guide me?" A sweet, timid little whispering chirp tumbled from her rosy lips.

The twofold meaning in Sansa's words did not escape the Hound's notice.

Seven fucking hells!

Look at that sultry smile.

What is she doing?

Does she think to mock me?

Tis easy to play pretend in the dark, is it not, little bird,

When you can hardly make out my scars,

Can barely see my accursed face,

What do you think I am?

Some blooming chivalrous knightling from your books?

She's asking for it, alright. 

This is one bold and brave little bird who isn't afraid to poke and tease the savage Dog. 

Go on, then, prod some more, why don't you?  

How would it feel to tear her apart, kiss by bloody kiss?

Sansa gasped and blushed furiously as she heard the Hound's soft snarling grunt in her hair and felt his hardened manhood lurch and pulse against her rear. Her toes curled in her little boots.

By the Maiden! This man is hard and huge ALL over! 

And so irresistable…!

Sansa, atremble with the head-spinning potent brew of deep longing and pent up desire, tried to cling onto some semblance of girlish modesty and ingrained sense of manners but her body betrayed her almost instantly. 

Possesed by raw, almost primal instinct, Sansa arched her hips slightly and pressed herself more snugly against the Hound's raging erection.

The actual Fuck! 

Is the maidenly, shy and bashful little songbird grinding and rubbing against the big, scary Dog?!

Oh, Fuck me! She is.

Fucking tease!

All dewed with sweat and burning up for me.

So fucking irresistable!

Show you the way and guide you huh? 

Careful what you wish for, little bird.

"Naughty, wicked little girl." The Hound chuckled darkly, planting a slow kiss just beneath her ear, feeling her pulse flutter frantically like a captured little butterfly. He could practically smell her arousal.

"What is it that you want me to show you, exactly?"

"A…a way out of here, my lord." Sansa stammered and whimpered breathlessly, squeezing her legs together. The sensual overload was starting to erode her sanity and demolish her reasoning. Sansa felt the Hound rub his closely shaven jaw against the thick, fragrant red river of her hair. 

Sure that's what you meant, little Songbird. And I'm a buggering anointed knight.

"And into my private quarters?" The Hound flicked his tongue over her neck. He tugged her little puffy sleeve down, slowly tracing a wet line across her exposed shoulder. His warm breath caressed over her overly sensitized, flushed skin. 

"Mmmhhh…private quarters?" Sansa echoed, robbed of breath and reason, her mind turning to mush, her body writhing needily against him.

"Just me and you." The Hound murmured against her heated, peaches-dipped-in- cream skin, his voice lowering to a deeper and raspier timbre.

His large, battle-roughened hand glid slowly up her thigh, taking his sweet time to feel and explore her over her skirts. Heard her breathing turn sharp and shallow. 

Holy fucking Hells!

Am I dreaming or 

Is this exquisite creature moaning for more?

Is Sansa bloody Stark practically swooning in my arms? 

Fuck me!…I'd give anything to rip her smallclothes off and grab those silk stocking covered pretty legs by the ankle and…

Or I could take her right here, right now. Pin her against the wall, wrap her around me and-

Or, I'd be kneeling between her thighs with her pretty legs draped over my shoulders for that deep penetration, my mouth suckling on her nipples and…

Or I could bend her over, easily achieved in this position. Lift up her skirts, pull her underthings to the side and…

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!!!

"Locked in a cage together." The Hound kissed another deep whisper into the smooth skin of Sansa's neck. Clegane tightened his grip on her beribboned long braid coiled tidily beneath a pearl encrusted, gossamer net, unconsciously loosening it first, and then freeing it from its confines in one go with a savage tug. 

I'd rip that dress off, grab you by the hair, lick every inch of your skin, throw you down on that hard mattress of mine, spread your long legs and go to town…

She wouldn't know how to ride me proper, but I could teach her. A flesh and blood throne for the Northern Princess. She'd clench down on me, using me as her mount, her nails digging into my skin, eyes rolled back, bouncing up and down, taking her pleasure, our fingers linked together, or my hands cupping her perspiration dewed breasts, tweaking her stiff nipples…

Or we'd be doing it upright, completely naked and covered in sweat, I'd be picking her up, her silky legs tightly wrapped round my waist, her arms wound round my neck for support, clinging hard and fast to me, my hands grabbing her buttocks and brutally impaling her on my rock-hard cock, forcefully and relentlessly thrusting into her tight, wet little hole for my pleasure as we keep intense eye contact, mouths sealed together…

Oh FUCK! 

Sansa could clearly feel the heat emanating from those big, long fingers and seeping into her skin even over the satiny fabric of her gown. A hoarse growl tickled her ear. His erection throbbed violently against her curvy bottom. Swallowing convulsively, Sansa reached a dainty hand back to weave her fingers into the Hound's dusky hair. 

"Cage…?" Sansa repeated like a simple. She could barely breathe. Her wits were completely scrambled, her manners long flown away. Pure desire took hold and would not let go. Her underthings were soaked, her legs jellified.

"Alone and naked together." 

The Hound's lips caressed along the side of her delicate jaw. His cock felt cast in steel - he was that hard, as he slowly rubbed and thrust against Sansa's sweet arse.

Sansa wetted her suddenly parched lips, her eyes half closing, glazed with searing lust. Between her slick petals, her delicate bud was swollen and aching to be touched, the sudden, aching hollow deep inside her begging to be filled to the brim. 

Fucking Hells! 

I want you so much. 

I want to take you and tease and pleasure and satisfy you for hours.

You have no fucking idea how much 

I just want to…

Bury my aching, rock-hard cock all the way to the hilt deep inside your tight little cunt and endlessly drain my balls into your womb. Fill you up until you are overflowing with me…Lick the salty sweat off your skin…swap positions and start all over again…until we both cum hard, entwined and rolling and writhing together…Again. And again…

Fuck this game! Tis torture, naught more!

"All tangled and twined together." The Hound's voice was a low rumble as his left hand trailed upwards Sansa's bodice and cupped her breast. 

He could feel her little heart hammering out of her chest. 

Arousal and fear created a potent alchemy, after all. 

Amplified by the dark, cramped  atmosphere, it transmuted into a devastatingly intense, powerful aphrodisiac.

Every inch of her perfect body was vibrant with the euphoric, volatile brew.

Fuck me! She's only a small-ish handful but so damned perfect. Feels so damned good. 

Everything about her is pure and true and good.

Every gorgeous lash of auburn, every tiny freckle, every breath she takes, the way she blushes to the tips of her delicate little ears, every sunny smile she generously throws my way, her cool, dainty hand settling on my arm, threading into my hair…

Fucking Hells, I can't get over the erotic images in my head. Just the two of us, in various positions and states of undress, burning all night long…

You are so beautiful.

I am fucking hideous.

I wonder what our babes would look like…

Sansa let out a quiet sobbing moan. Her nipples grew stiff and achy as the Hound massaged her breast over her dress. Squeezing and cupping. Why wouldn't he just loosen her laces and slip his hand inside her bodice already! Her hips rolled and writhed against him. Her elegant hand tightened in his fine midnight hair. The Hound's erotic assault on her senses was starting to reach unbearable levels.

"I wager you'd sing prettier than a nightingale in my cage, little bird."

The Hound nuzzled Sansa's neck and growled a guttural curse. His erection was straining in his breeches and the tip was starting to leak a little. Sandor Clegane could not recall being this painfully hard in his entire twenty-seven years of life.

Mayhap I should just have my way with the princess and rid her out of my system! 

Lay this obsession to rest.

Banish her from my soul, once and for all.

She has taken deep root in my core.

It is me, who is way in over his head…

Sing me a song, pretty bird, sing only for me. I would give anything for one song…

Fuck this game to the blackest pits of Hells! I will have a song from you, whether you will it or no!

Wait.

Hold that thought.

I heard something.

The Hound abruptly went still, his head coming up swiftly, grey eyes sharply scanning the semi darkness ahead. 

He was sure he had heard something, someone imperceptibly moving, a subtle shift in the air.

Ah, there it was.

There was a muffled noise and another rush of cold draught swept into the passage.

Sandor Clegane fully snapped out of his sexual haze at the sound of the faint, catlike-stealthy footsteps.

The Hound motioned Sansa to be quiet and listened closely. The sound was coming from the far end of the darkened corridor.

Buggering Hells!

What the fuck is up with the increased foot traffic in these passages tonight?

Sansa paused to listen as well. She was still disoriented, unsteady and fogged up from searing arousal.

The Hound however, was alert, staring deliberately past her into the obscuring darkness.

"Someone's coming this way!" Sansa whispered urgently, grabbing the Hound's muscle-bound arm, eyes going wide and round. 

"Hush!" Clegane warned softly, putting a finger to his lips.

A small lamp flared. Its shutter slid open.

Littlefuck! What the Hells is he doing here?

You thought to corner this little bird, did you not? You slimy bastard!

Over my dead fucking body!

Suddenly, Sandor Clegane grabbed Sansa Stark's hand and tugged her briskly towards the concealed doorway. He turned a small, hidden lever behind an empty torch sconce and shoved her unceremoniously into the unlit, unoccupied room that the hidden mechanism revealed.

Behind them, the door slid back into place soundlessly.

SANSA 

Sansa took a step forward in the dark and came up hard against the Hound.

Oops! I am not groping, I swear it!

"Thousand pardons, my lord!"

"Bloody Hells, girl!" He barked out in agitation and steadied her with a heavy hand on her slender shoulder.

His mood changed again, Sansa sighed quietly to herself. Scorching hot one minute, cold and distant the next. Tis nothing short of baffling.

The Hound released Sansa, stepping aside and turning away to adjust himself before lighting a candle. 

A deep, grim frown darkened his brow.

Buggering Hells! 

This girl never fails to addle my wits. 

Planting erotic fantasies in my head just by her mere presence.

To the point of utter madness where I'm actually fantasizing about getting her big and round with my babe.

Watch it Dog. 

One of these nights you'll lose control and go too far.

Way too far, past the point of no return.

Then we'll both be royally fucked.

Sansa calmed herself down and examined the large room with curiosity. 

Where did the Hound bring me?

An armoury?

Amber candlelight gleamed on the sharpened blades that lined the stone walls. Finely crafted massive halberds almost thrice her size, knights lances, poleaxes, double edged, dual handed longswords, several shorter blades of varying lengths and designs, battle axes, morning stars, maces and warhammers glinted menacingly. The weapons were sharpened to a vicious edge; the balls and chain looked well used; none of the displays looked ornamental. 

Suits of piecemeal armour, chainmail, heavy plate, visored full helmets with unfamiliar crests stood like silent sentries against one wall.

There is a hidden switch somewhere in this armoury, but I have no clue as to where. Behind that suit of plate mayhap?

There has to be another one in the Serpentine. 

So, this is how the Hound just appears out of the blue. Not that I'm complaining! He always seems to be there when I need him the most. Shadowing my steps. Rescuing me like the hero he is.

"What in the Seven buggering Hells were you doing sneaking about those tunnels, girl?" Clegane asked with a frown, jolting Sansa out of her reverie.

She slid the Hound a thoughtful glance, trying not to openly stare. It was impossible to focus her attention on anything or anywhere else.

The man was only partially armoured for the night. Didn't look any less fierce for it. 

His tall, powerfully muscled physique was more than obvious and still clearly well defined beneath the maroonish red woolen tunic adorned with the black leather dog's head, tight black leather breeches tucked into heavy boots and dark vambraces on his wrists and forearms.

His raven hair looked overdue for a cut, sweeping past those big, broad shoulders. 

The cleanly shaved, unmarred half of his face was uncompromisingly harsh and stern, his gruesome, burnt features eclipsed by the undulating shadows. 

A dark leather sword belt completed his attire. The blade seemed to be an extension of the man; The Hound was never seen without his longsword and a dagger hidden somewhere on his person. He probably feels naked without his weapons.

Speaking of…

Sansa's gaze involuntarily drifted downwards, a little to the centre, at the clear outline of his large, bulging manhood. 

It twitched under her shameless scrutiny!

Oh Sweet Heavens, that thing looks brutal and enormous, like the man himself!

The Hound folded his arms across his chest and leaned a hip against a high stone slab. A grim smile slashed across his face. 

No, rather, the man was smirking smugly. He knew full well where Sansa's attention had strayed and lingered.

By the Maiden!!! Don't stare!!! Avert!

Dear sweet Gods…Kill me right now! 

Sansa wanted to just disappear in a puff of smoke, she could barely suppress her groan of burning mortification.

The Hound's half smirk grew even more superior and arrogant, his lip twitch more pronounced. She saw his bared teeth.

Turning a brighter scarlet, Sansa quickly averted her face. Oh look, an axe! Yes, focus on that. 

"Are you dreaming?" The Hound sneered. "Answer the question, little bird."

"What? Oh, right. I..uh..I was exploring the Keep, my lord."

Hmm. So what is this, not a hatchet? Yes, keep looking at the weapons. Safer this way.

"How the fuck did you find those tunnels?"

"Through a hidden staircase in Meagor's Holdfast." Sansa clasped her hands demurely in front of her. Stole a quick, guilty, furtive glance at the Hound. 

Great. Just lie to his face, why don't you, Sansa. Lie until you're blue in the face. That will endear you to him for true. 

"Don't try my patience, girl." Clegane's silvered grey eyes narrowed, his square jaw clenched. "I want the truth."

Sansa sighed softly.

"Lord Varys mentioned in passing that there might be a concealed door in the castle's main kitchen."

"Go on." He pushed himself off the table and casually strode towards her.

He looks…a little angry. And very aroused.

Oh dear Heavens! Look away! Abort! 

"I, uh, snuck down into the cellars and found the hidden doorway; by sheer chance, mind you." She chirped out hastily.

Sansa was sure there was another hidden entrance in Lord Varys's private bedchamber. 

"Fucking Hells." The Hound scowled darkly. "That is no place for a soft, clueless little bird like you. The entire place is quite literally a death trap. One misstep and it's off with your pretty little red-head." 

Sansa chewed the edge of her lip and lowered her lashes.

"Then I count myself fortunate indeed that you have found me."

"Why, you wanted to kill us both, did you?" A dark smirk crossed the Hound's lips.

"No of course not, my lord!" Sansa protested. The man was looming extremely close now. She should retreat a step, but her body wouldnt obey.

Swords.. daggers.. warhammers…um..

Gods, he is terrifying. And so bizarrely, wildly attractive, burns and battle scars and all!

Sansa averted her reddened face once more, her gaze flicking across the array of polearms. Fidgeted. Lances…Uh…

"What the fuck would you have done if I hadn't come looking for you?" 

Clegane grasped her jaw and tilted her face up to his. 

"You came after me?" Sansa smiled up at him, ignoring his vulgar turn of phrase. Her lake blue eyes were brilliant with gratitude and deep, girlish infatuation. A dreamy sigh escaped her lips, her heart melting right into her little half boots. "You rescued me once again."  Like a hero in a book!

"Bloody Hells, you are a daft little bird, aren't you?"

Sandor Clegane sneered viciously down at Sansa Stark.

"But so pretty." He brushed his thumb over her plump bottom lip. His rasp was a low rumble. "Prettiest little bird I ever saw."

By the Maiden! So romantic…I think my heart is about to burst! 

Sansa's blush deepened to a crimson rose, she swallowed delicately, tucking a lock of auburn red behind an ear, fidgeting slightly. 

The Hound's breathing turned slightly ragged as his grey gaze blatantly raked over the the lush, pouting spring blossom mouth, the milk and lilies of her peachy soft skin, freckle-kissed tops of her breasts, the alluring outline of her graceful curves. 

He sank his fingers into her auburn waves, cupping the back of her head.

His gaze dragged back towards her face, and the Hound slowly bent his head down towards hers.

Oh Sweet Maiden! Is he going to…

Sansa, in turn, leaned in a little closer. Studied the Hound's face. His high, gaunt cheekbone. His nose that had been clearly broken a few times and not set quite right. His brilliant eyes. The awful, irregular red crevices and grooves of his terrible burns. The bone in his jaw where the fire had seared away a small portion of flesh and muscle. The grim, brooding, twitching mouth.

The said mouth curled in mocking contempt, grey eyes flashed with savage lights. Abruptly the Hound pushed Sansa away.

Sansa blinked. What did I do?? 

No, honestly, did I do something wrong?

I was so sure he was going to kiss me just then. 

He shamelessly flirted with me!

Made my heart sing!

Was it all one big jape to him? 

It must have been. Sigh.

How can I just go on as if everything were quite normal and fine and dandy? 

"Time to go back to your cage, birdling."

Clegane said flatly. His eyes were heavily shadowed. Turbulent, stormy grey waters that gave nothing away.

Why, is it time for you to return to your kennel? 

Sansa was fuming inwardly, but her serenely composed expression gave nothing away. Or so she hoped.

Fine, be that way, my lord. 

The game is over, I suppose.

"Fine." Sansa said quietly, and walked past the Hound with as much dignity as she could muster, a high, regal angle to her chin and a shuttered expression on her face. She struggled to suppress her frustration, vexation and unrequited feelings to the best of her ability.

Behave yourself, Sansa Stark.

You are a Princess of the North.

A Lady's armour is courtesy.

Twas nothing but a silly fancy.

A little make believe in the dark.

A jape, naught more.

He was just mocking me.

I just can't keep up with his mercurial temper and odd moods.

How could I be so foolish as to entertain the outrageous notion of an illicit romance?

He doesn't like me, anyway. 

Does he?

The Hound grabbed her wrist as she haughtily strode past. 

"Lady Sansa." His rasp softened to a husky edge.

"Yes?" Sansa halted and glanced up. Her heart danced a little faster. Her pulse raced. Hope shimmered in her royal blue eyes.

Just kiss me already you dense, insufferable big brute! 

Seduce me! Woo me!

Dont be scared!

"Don't forget your candle." The Hound's twitching lips were curved in a faint smile.

Ooh! How dare you! The man's a tease!

"Thank you, my lord."

Sansa offered him a tight, strained smile, almost gritting her teeth with frustration, and gracefully accepted the freshly lit taper. Yanked it out of his hand, rather.

Stuff it, she thought. I'll do it myself.

"Clegane?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for coming to my rescue." Sansa rose on tippy toes and planted a butterfly-soft, but lingering kiss on his marred cheek, very close to the twitching edge of this mouth. 

Last thing Sansa Stark saw over her shoulder as she reached the exit, was the Hound's totally stunned and dazed look. The man was staring after her like a lackwit, mouth agape, rendered speechless, perhaps for the first time.

Serves you right, thought Sansa. Now it was her turn to smile smugly. 

Hide all you will, maybe next time I'll be the seeker in this little game of ours, Hound!

THE END 

[a-pretty-nerd]

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

Chapter 10

Premis:

When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you’re in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.

A/N:

I hope you guys like this chapter! If you wanna support me further and hang out, check out my Patreon for more of my content and my discord!

Word count: 1,818

Warnings: Minor violence

Chapter 9 Chapter 11

Loud announcement after loud announcement blasted from the speakers as the police spoke. Repeating the same few sentences over and over again. His stomach turned as anxiety took hold of him. Izuku Midoriya stood nearly a block away from the scene as he watched. He and Bakugou were given orders to sit on the perimeter and wait in case they were needed. Having experienced The League before, their assistance was helpful. But everyone was hoping it wouldn't be needed. For now, everyone's top priority was you. Bakugou huffed in frustration, folding his arms across his chest as he watched.

"I don't get it. We should just round them up while we still can. If we don't act fast, they'll slip out of our hands again." He growled.

"Arrest isn't our top priority right now. The hostage's safety is. We can't risk any harm coming to her. You know that." Midoriya answered. The blonde scoffed and spoke again after a long pause.

"I still can't believe it."

"Believe what?"

"That he has a daughter. You'd think he would have mentioned something like that by now. After all these years. Especially one with such a strong quirk."

"Yeah...I don't have kids of my own so, I don't know much about that but...It's odd isn't it? That he never mentioned her. Not even to us." Bakugou thought for a moment.

"Maybe it was the mom. Maybe she kept it that way. We don't know much about her."

"No...that doesn't sit right. Her mom seems intense, sure. But that's his daughter. I don't know about you, but if I had a kid like her, I wouldn't be able to stop talking about her. So, it doesn't make sense why someone like him..."

"They were young, right? About our age?"

"That's right."

"Think about it. If you and Ururaka got pregnant right now, what do you think would happen?"

"Thats different, she's a hero too-"

"No. Really. Think about it. If she told you tomorrow you were gonna have a kid, how would you feel?" Midorya thought for a moment.

"Scared, I guess."

"Would you slow down your hero work? After everything you've done, all the work you've put into this. Would you risk it all to be a proper father? And what about her? Would Ururaka be okay putting her life on hold for that kid? I doubt it."

"I see what you're saying. But that still doesn't explain why we're just finding out about her now."

"I'm sure he was just trying to protect her from shit like this happening. It's clear he still cares for her. It was probably his was of keeping her safe. As messed up as that is."

"I studied All Might my entire life. Became his successor and student. And still...I feel like I never really knew him until now."

"Mh."

"You're still my most valuable player. You're staying right here." Shigaraki's voice purred as his grip tightened around your arm. Pulling you closer to him. You felt your blood quickly rush up to your cheeks. The hot feeling coursing through your veins. You heard the loud squeak of a chair shifting across the floor. Your quirk unwittingly being activated. He ignored the sound, his deep red eyes glaring into yours as his scarred brow bone curved over them in a tight scowl. His eyes, so brilliant and full of passion. You were lost in them. Time always seemed to stop when he did this.

"Boss! We gotta get out of here! We can't fight them all!" Spinner shouted, tearing those eyes away from you. How long had he been starring at you? Was he just as lost as you? You were doubtful. If he was lost in anything, it was probably his rage. His grip on you loosened, slowly dropping your arm almost like he was reluctant to.

"The truck. Is the truck ready?"

"Yes, but I doubt we can get out of here without being caught."

"Of course not. That's why we'll need a distraction. Until then we need time. Toga, the phone, quick." She jumped at the command. Grabbing a smartphone of hers and quickly adjusting it to film. Shigaraki's hands quickly found your body again. But they weren't nearly as harsh as last time, just firm. Man handling you to appear threatening. One hand coming around your neck from behind to display his fingers, and the other around your arm. He pressed you against his body.

"Filming!" Toga shouted.

"You heroes should know better than to just barge into such a delicate situation. The conditions are simple. Make one wrong move, and the girl is dust. I'll even leave her in a pretty little urn for you, hehehe, All Might."

"Cut! Edit and send to the heroes right?"

"And social media, anything to get it on the news. Dabi, Twice, is there a way for you to contact our friends on the outside?"

"But boss! They have us tapped! They'll be prepare for our escape!" Twice shouted.

"They've planned for it already. We've lost the element of surprise. We need results."

"Shigaraki?" You croaked.

"What!?" He shouted in your ear. You winced, holding your free had up to tap at his wrist around your neck.

"Could you, loosen up a bit?" He swiftly pulled his hands away from you. Watching you gently cough and regain your breath.

"We're not, really going to kill her, are we?" Toga pulled her attention away from her phone and shuffled closer to you. Turning to be in-between you and Shigaraki, almost to protect you from being grabbed again.

"No. Not if we plan to get out of here." He and turned sat down on the couch, his hands coming up to rub against his sore neck. Toga patted your back.

"You alright there? You're burning up. You're not sick are you?"

"No...No Im fine."

"You sure?"

"I'm fine. Thank you, Toga." It made her smile to hear you say that.

"Don't worry. Tomura's smart. He'll get us out safe, you'll see." You smiled back at her.

"I'm sure. But somehow I doubt I'll see you again. So, if this is goodbye-"

"Don't say that!" Toga shouted. "We're gonna stick together. Remember? I promised you I wouldn't let anyone hurt you!" You starred at her with wide eyes as your heart raced in your chest. A loud flutter.

"But, Toga."

"But nothing, friends stick together, right?" You nodded. "Then that settles it! We're taking her with us, aren't we guys?" Confused faces looked up at the two of you. "Well?"

"Uh- Sure." Spinner shrugged.

"Hell No - Alright!" Twice shouted.

"Heh, alright." Dabi chuckled.

"Tomura?" Toga called the absent-minded man.

"Huh?"

"We're taking her with us, right? She's one of us now!" Toga reached for your hand and curled her fingers between yours. Shigaraki looked up at her, his eyes lost in thought. "Tomura!" She scolded him like a little sister. He blinked a few times, shaking his attention to you.

"Are you, Y/L/N? Are you one of us?" You froze for a moment. No. Of course not. You're not a villain. You're not like these people! You're a heroes' kid! You're not evil! You're a good person!

You opened your mouth to speak, an overwhelming cacophony of thoughts keeping you from answering. For the first time in your entire life, you had been cared for in a way you never had before. No longer reliant on a bottle of pills to function properly. No longer forced to be productive. No pressure to be anything special. You could grow here. You could be yourself here. The room buzzed with energy at the activation of your quirk. Your emotional state boiling to a head, you opened your mouth to answer but before you could speak-

The building began to shake underneath you. You were thrown to the floor, eyes darting everywhere in search for the cause. The sound of explosions blasted above you, while what sounded like a bulldozer echoed below.

"Damn it! They're coming from both ends!" Dabi announced, gaining his balance to perform a ready stance before his blue flames emerged.

"C'mon Shigaraki! What do we do!" Twice shouted as he clung onto the man's forearm. The rest of you inching closer and closer to each other.

The blasts above became louder and louder until it became evident it was right above. Your stomach turned as you came to the realization. Before the order left his lips you had reached for a table across the room and brought it up above your small group for protection.

"Y/L/N!" Just in time for it to deflect the shrapnel of drywall that burst from the explosion above. Suddenly the floor below gave way, sending the six of you falling through the open air. There were supposed to be several floor to the building, but thanks to the hero, Deku, flimsy walls of the already rotting building had been quickly demolished within seconds.

You watched yourself fall, your hand desperately reaching for anything to hold on to. Failing and plummeting down with the rest of them. You watched as the DynaMight emerged from the smoke above to watch you with a satisfied grin plastered over his face.

The cries of the others behind you filled your ears. Why wasn't this hero doing something? Why wasn't he jumping to catch you? To catch the others? Is going to let you fall to your deaths? You can't let him do that! Quick- Quick- your quirk- catch them!

After a few attempts at activation in your panic, you were able to catch the others in the air. Just before their bodies hit the concrete of the building basement. Dropping them down from a safe few feet. The fall was uncomfortable, but a relief to you and the others that you could work so quickly.

But your success was short-lived as the building trembled and quaked with another explosion. You looked up just in time to watch what was left of the old hide out to come crashing down around you. Leaving you trapped in the basement, in complete darkness.

"THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" A familiar shriek echoed in Bakugou and Midoriya's ear pieces. They both jolted at the painful intrusion. Your mother, having just stolen a police walky talky huffed on the other end.

"Our apologies ma'am but they're fine. I saw it with my own eyes. They're just trapped under debris. Everything is going according to plan." Midoriya reassured.

"Ac- ACCORDING TO PLAN!? You mean to tell me, young man, that you intended to trap my daughter in with her KIDNAPPERS, WHO THREATENED TO KILL HER!?" She spat, understandably.

"If they wanted her dead by now, she would be. Shigaraki doesn't play games unless it's necessary. Trust me." Bakugou barked.

"So now what? We just wait until this psychopath decays his way loose?"

Taglist:

@craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

@kamenoyaki @hentaiqween101 @skzero-99 @justanotherlifeff

@witch-o-memes @lolilith

[bluebellhairpin]

The Silence In Between

Jaeger Pilot!Levi Ackerman X Engineer!Reader

Part One

A/N: I know what I said about the writing thing, but this just happened over time and I finally finished it. - Nemo 

Warning(s): Injuries. Character Death. *sighs* Drfiting. 

Summary: 

Listening to: ‘When We Were Young’ by Take That - ‘We were drawn to whoever could keep us together and bound by the heavens above’ 

Series Masterlist 

Masterlist 

The Drift wasn’t something to be taken lightly. As years passed, Levi was the one person who knew about that the most. 

From his first three-pilot Jaeger, to the one he piloted with Hange - and everything in between - he’d been through so many co-pilots that he used to think his time was coming soon. It had to be. He was too tired for it to not be. 

It had been a week since he sparred with (y/n), and things were going as smoothly between the two as it had before the intense training session. But it still didn’t explain the weird feeling in his chest that he kept denying. And the fact that he didn’t really feel like dying in a Jaeger cockpit anymore. 

Then, for the first time since the early-morning beating, he suited up to go fight a Kaiju. Their tech gave them the ‘OK’ that they’d drifted properly, and Hange was already sending Levi looks from his right. 

“You and the engineer, huh?” 

“Shut up.” He said, finishing up prepping their Jaeger to be dropped in the ocean. He caught Hange’s eyes, seeing them with a no-good glint in them. 

“I’m not in your head as much as you are, but I sure as hell could see it coming.” They laughed. “You’re so dense.” 

“Hange, I-”

“- Ackerman. Zoe.” Erwin said, his ever-prominent ‘I’m the Marshall’ tone cutting Levi off before he could finish his threat. “You’ll be lifted off-base in T minus 3 minuets. You’ll be dropped in the Philippine sea. You’ll be fighting a category III Kaiju, dubbed by our Loccent Officer here as Anago -”

“- Nice name -” 

“- Hange. Please.” 

“Sorry.”

“As I was saying,” Levi could practically hear Erwin rolling his eyes. “It’s a category III Kaiju. It’s not something you haven’t fought before, but our sensors are picking up that it’s still pretty big. And moving fast. We’ll have Warrior Titan and her pilots on standby the moment things start looking like they’re moving downhill. It’s too early in the morning to have anyone die.”

Levi wondered if there was any time for anyone to die. 

By the time Levi got back to the Tokyo Shatterdome it was past noon. He was too tired to function properly. His eyes kept drooping, and his legs felt wobbly. 

He hadn’t felt like that since the day Ewrin lost his arm. 

Or when Furlan and Isabel died. 

These things kept happening. Bad things. And it was never to him. Always to his co-pilots. He hated it. With every fiber of his being he wished he could go back and save them. To have been able to keep Furlan and Isabel alive. To have been able to save Erwin from losing his arm. To have moved that much faster to save Hange.

Sure, Hange was laying across from him in the medbay, but they might’ve as well died. 

Looking back, one of the worst things about having Erwin ripped from the jaeger cockpit next to him wasn’t the fact he was sure Erwin had died - no, it was finding out he was alive and having to wait for if Erwin would even wake up. Now he was doing it all over again.

After spending the rest of his day with Hange Levi was ushered out of the medbay for the doctors to do their checks. He took the time he wasn’t allowed by Hange’s side to go to the mess hall to pretend to get something to eat. He was vaguely aware of what time it was, but when he got there he was a little surprised to find it was empty. 

He was even more surprised when - after he’d made himself comfortable at one of the many tables, nursing a mug of untouched tea - you stumbled in, looking as worse for wear as he was. 

Your tech overalls were tied haphazardly around your waist, your hair was messier than usual, and there were shiny grease stains all over your hands, forearms and tank top. If he squinted he thought he could see some on your cheek too. But your appearance wasn’t entirely unusual. 

He still liked it - only because it was normal. No other reason. 

What was unusual was that you were pouring hot, tar-like coffee from it’s urn into your bowl instead of the evening’s soup - of which was located on the other end of the room. You were tired. Very tired. Levi wondered what the hell you were working on to get you so exhausted. 

He watched you turn from the urn, still unaware of your ‘not-soup’ situation, and somehow navigate to take a seat on the table next to his. You sat right across from him, one table over, and still hadn’t noticed him staring at you yet. 

He also watched you raise your full spoon to your mouth. He had thought about saying something. But the thought of your reaction also crossed his mind, and he decided to go with staying quiet instead. 

Unfortunately the only reaction he got was you looking very confused. 

“It’s coffee you dumbass.” Your head shot up, meeting his eyes almost instantly. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I know that now. Dumbass.” you said, dropping the spoon to simply drink straight out of the bowl French-style. “How’s Hange going?” You asked, voice much quieter, and much more gentle than you’d ever used with him before.

“Hange -” he started, letting out a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair, “- Hange is okay. At least from what everyone keeps saying.” 

“Good.” you hummed, “And you?”

“What about me?” He asked, bringing his mug up to his lips to take a long and unsatisfyingly cold mouthful of tea. He set the cup aside, scowling at it. 

“I’ve never piloted a real Jaeger before, Ackerman, but I do know that when things like this happen to one of the pilots, they actually happen to both.” He looked over at you, squinting. “So how are you?”

He didn’t think he’d been asked that in a while.

“What,” Levi said, “did you just say?” 

Erwin sighed. He knew this was coming, Levi could tell he did because he sighed. Erwin moved, his chair squeaking across the floor of his office as he lent forwards to address Levi more seriously. 

“You and I both know Hange won’t do well in a Jaeger anymore.” Erwin said. “As much as you know I’d hate to say it, you should seriously consider the possibility of finding a new co-pilot.” 

“I’d rather not.”

“I know.”

“I’d rather retire.”

“I know.”

“Why can’t I retire?” Levi asked. He knew the answer to that too. He just wanted to finally hear it. 

“You’re too big of an asset to just,” Erwin gestured, “let go. Your knowledge of Kajiu’s and skill in a Jaeger is unparalleled. Only Miche and Nanaba come close to your level and they’re -”

“- on maternity leave. I know -” 

“- so having you out of commission right now isn’t something my higher-ups are keen on.”

A couple beats past. Erwin and Levi kept looking at each other. They both also knew the solution to this new problem - finding Levi a new partner. 

“We need to bring in the engineer.”

“Don’t.”

“We have no choice, Levi.” Erwin squinted at Levi. “You weren’t so defensive the other times.” 

When Isabel and Furlan were replaced with Erwin. When Erwin was replaced with Hange. It was true, Levi barely battered an eyelid at them all being replaced - mainly because he did know them all fairly well before they joined him in the drift. They were all originally from the same batch of cadets. With you, however, it was a little different. 

Sure, he did know you - for a couple years now - but he also knew that your connection ran deeper than just being ‘drift compatible’. That scared him.

“I’m tired, Erwin.” Levi lied. “I just want it to be over.” 

“We all do, Levi.”

“Huh.” 

Levi raised his eyes at you.

“Is that all you have to say?” he said, “‘Huh’?” You quickly caught yourself, wiping your dirty fingers across your jumpsuit, and shaking our head.

“No, no, no, sorry,” you stuttered, “I just - it’s only just kicking in.”

He asked you to be his co-pilot. 

Hange had woken up yesterday afternoon, and there was nothing anyone could do about the lack of an eyeball they were now suffering from. They were no-longer fit to pilot the left hemisphere, seeing as the injury would be a hindrance. But you as a replacement for the dominant side of a Jaeger? 

“I can’t do that.”

Levi blinked at you.

“What?’ 

“I can’t pilot a Jaeger, Ackerman.” you said, shaking your head again. “Not one of such high of a reputation at least. I -”You were cut off by Levi grabbing your arm, yanking you away from the crew working on the Warrior Titan, and into a very small, and barely lit space.

That bastard pulled you into a supply closet. 

“Listen brat, and you better listen pretty damn well -” he said, his grip still tight on your arms, “- you train like a pilot. You want to be a Ranger, and this is your chance. In this world you make decisions - your choice is either one you agree with, or you regret. Make sure you don’t regret a single thing.” 

His words were dead serious, and you were planning on taking them seriously. But his eyes - they were saying something you couldn’t understand. Become a Ranger, live life to the fullest, regret nothing. Stay an engineer, stay safe, regret nothing. He was telling you to say yes, and to say no, at the same time. 

And he was also very, very, very close to you right now. And there was too little room inside that room. 

So you ran away.

Not even a few hours later, Marshall Erwin himself came to find you - and you made sure to put yourself somewhere where even the other engineers would struggle to find you. But he found you anyway - crammed in the space between a Jaeger’s breastplates and it’s reactor core.

Bastard.

“Ranger Ackerman said you didn’t respond too well to his offer.” he said. You sighed, dropping your tool in your lap. “Why did you run?” 

“I don’t really know.” You wiped your forehead with your arm, and then rested your hands on your hips as you looked up at him. He looked back at you, steely eyes softening, and he took a moment to sit down with you. 

“You don’t have to know, so I’ll rephrase.” he said, “Does it not feel wrong?” 

“No! God, no.” you said quickly, waving a hand out at him. “No it feels right. It’s just, it’s scary. The idea of going into that cockpit with him when he’s had so many others go through his brain like that. You, and Hange, as well as the other two he started with - that’s already more people than any other pilot in our history. I…”

“You don’t know if you can handle it.” Erwin finished. He stood, smoothing out his clothes and brushing off the dirt, then looked down at where you still sat. “If it helped ease your mind, he wouldn’t have talked to you about it at all if he didn’t think you could do it.”

“They’re not coming.”

“They have to.”

“They won’t.”

“Jeezus Levi, have some faith. I know the new copilot thing isn’t something you want to do but try to not act like you’ll miss me in your head that much.” He almost liked the idea of Hange being back in the med bay rather than watching from up in coms with Moblit. 

But deep, deep, deep inside, he was glad that Hange was awake now. 

After Erwin went to talk to you, he went back to Levi and they spoke a little more. Levi agreed to being nice on your first day. But inside he was adding if you even showed up. 

“Better quit daydreaming Ackerman, or I’ll start piloting this hunk without you.” 

He swiveled his head, turning to the left to see you standing there waiting to get ‘locked’ into place. Unfortunately, you looked really good in the drivesuit, and that was unfortunate only because you would know he thought that in, like, five minutes. 

You’d know everything in, like, five minutes. 

“You’d better be ready for this.” he said, looking over at you with an intensity only an Ackerman could pull off. “Don’t make me look like a fool.” A smile slowly creeped onto your face. 

“You know, technically I’m in charge. You should stop bossing me around.”

“Oh damn -” Hange’s voice cut through your coms, “- I like this one Levi.” 

“Shut up Hange.”

You’d prepared yourself for the drift. 

Erwin had given you a file the night before, barely an hour after you went to him and said you’d do it. It was a lot of paperwork, and a surprisingly vague amount of information. 

But was it enough?

Levi had been through hell and back, and now you’d get a front-row seat to all of it. But at least you were a little prepared. 

You guessed, also, that Erwin gave Levi some info on you too. Not that there was a lot of it. Or any of it. Not compared to what was in his head anyway. 

“Initiating the neural handshake in three… two… one…” 

A jolt went down your spine, through your arms, to your fingers and down to your toes. Memories flashed behind your closed eyes, blurry and rushed. 

Playing outside with your father. 

Reading with your sister. 

The first kaiju reached the news. 

Not being comparable with anyone in training. 

Sparring with Levi a few days ago. 

You sucking in a deep breath. No chasing the rabbit. Let the memories go. Then Levi’s memories hit. 

Growing up with his mother and uncle. 

Kaijus. 

Living at the shatterdomes.

Losing his friends. Again. And Again. 

You stumbled where you stood, opening your eyes and looking over at Levi. He was already looking at you, asking if you were okay without speaking. You nodded, letting out a shaky laugh as you smiled. 

“This is amazing.” you gasped. 

“I know.” he said, but you heard a different reply. ‘Just like you.’ 

You heard a lot, felt more too. The overwhelming emotions you got from drifting with Levi was more than you expected. He felt more than he let on. 

“How about taking her out for a run?” You offered, distracting yourself from overthinking about everything too much with the buttons and screens around you.

“What do you think Levi?” Erwin asked. 

“You ought to know what I think Smith. They wouldn’t have offered otherwise.” 

“Copy that Ranger,” Erwin scoffed, “We’ll get you ready to go out.” 

A beat passed, you side-eyed Levi, letting a giggle slip. He huffed beside you, and the jaeger weight shifted with you as you both lent your weight on a different foot. 

“What now?” 

“You like how my shoulders look in my tank top, huh?”

“You like staring at my ass so we’re even.” 

Series Taglist: @tanyeonn​ 

Series Taglist is Open! 

[writinggarbage007]

The Captain's Assistant

Chapter 1

Steve Rogers x dark! reader, Avengers x dark! Reader

Summary: After 3 years as Cap's assistant and being treated like nothing, you are captured by Hydra and everything changes.

Warnings: swearing, dark themes, abduction, torture, cannon level violence. 18+. If you are not comfortable with these themes don't read.

Will update warnings on each chapter.

Slight AU

You hated your job.

Taking the job of being Captain America's assistant had been a favor from your father's friend, Nick Fury. You had been downsized and couldn't find a job no matter how many resumes you sent. However, you didn't know at the time it would turn into being assistant to everyone but Tony Stark. Too bad, considering you actually liked him.

Leaving work on a Wednesday night at 9pm was typical. Then there was the call after midnight, Wanda and Natasha were drunk and needed a ride home. Haven't these people ever heard of Uber?

Dropping them off at the compound, leaving them with the nice security guard you got halfway home when a text went off. Pulling your piece of crap car to the side of the road you read;

Mr.MetalArm: I'm out of condoms. Can you bring some to my room? 1:14 am

*Eye roll*

You reply with "15 minutes"

Seriously? Driving back you smile at the gate guard, swipe your badge and share an eye roll with the security guard at the door and head to the supply room. Dropping the condoms off to the Winter Soldier as he stood in his boxers and a voice behind him whines "Hurry up, baby". You almost want to tell her he won't even remember her name the next day but you turn and leave. Not even a thank you from Weiner Soldier.

It's after 2 when you finally get home and all you want to do is sleep. Dropping off you wonder how you got here. Taking care of a whole team of Superheroes. Any time you tried to say no to helping the team your boss, Captain Asshole would say "I consider it a favor to me when you help them."

Of course those favors never got returned.

Thursday 5:06 am

Your text alert goes off and you groan. It's only been less than 3 hours since you got home and already they are at it again. Rolling out of bed you ignore the second text alert and make your way to the bathroom to pee. Taking your time, you linger longer than normal washing your hands, splashing cool water on your face.

Finally returning to your bedroom you snatch your phone off your dresser to read your messages.

Captain Asshole: I need you here by 6 to coordinate a mission briefing. 5:06am

Captain Asshole: Please confirm you got my text. 5:08 am

Rolling your eyes you respond with "on my way sir". You've been up for 10 minutes and the rage is already simmering.

Breezing through the front door of the compound, you take a deep breath and walk quickly to the big glass enclosed meeting room. Your arms are loaded down with boxes from the bakery in town. Silently you bless Lucy at the bakery for opening early for you and giving you the treats she had just finished. You owed her a big drink. Of course you ate one while driving to work but no one would count them.

After arranging the pastry and donuts on big trays you set about making coffee in the big urns in the kitchen. As if the smell had summoned him Hawkeye, Clint Barton stumbled into the room giving you an angelic smile when you just sighed and handed him a go cup without him ever speaking a word.

Moving the heavy urns you then grabbed the folder with the mission briefs and headed to the copy room. You didn't read them just assembled the reports into individual folders and laid them out on the table in front of the chairs. When that task was finished it was almost 8. You fussed with the placement of the trays, stacked the go cups, and checked for the creamer each Avenger used and the level of the sugar container.

The elevator dinged and out stepped Nat and Wanda. Both looked no worse for wear after their night out and you sighed. It just wasn't fair.

Next out of the elevator is Captain America, Steve Rogers. Or as you secretly called him Captain Asshole. His little boyfriend Bucky aka the Winter Soldier followed. You called him the Weiner Soldier because he seemed to have a new girl every three weeks like clockwork. How many of them had you had to go down and talk to when he was done with them.

Always sending you with the same excuse. "I just don't want to hurt their feelings."

Right because having your best friend's assistant break up with them for you is so much better. Two of them had to be removed from the property and a third now has a lifetime restraining order against her so she can't be within 100 feet of you. Why? Cause the bitch thought you were keeping her from her true love. The thought of Casey made you glare at Bucky.

No one noticed, as they were all assembling plates with pastry and making coffee.

Cap speaks up and says "Tony should be here shortly so let's get started."

Not a thank you in sight.

As you turn to leave Cap clears his throat and speaks again. "Y/N, I sent you a list of errands I need done."

"On it Cap."you reply with what you are sure he doesn't notice is a condescending smile.

No nap today. Dammit.

As you leave the building and head toward the parking garage Tony Stark steps out having an intense conversation with someone you assume on his phone. He smiles and waves to you and you do the same trudging into the garage.

Of course your car won't start. Heaving a sigh at this crap day you get out, grab your purse and phone and head for the motor pool manager. Explaing the situation wastes more time and he finally hands over the keys to a big SUV.

You check your email to see what the list is and sigh again when you see a second email with a list for the team. The email explains they will be leaving tomorrow and don't have time to pick up their own shit. You just roll your eyes and start the drive to town.

The errands complete you head back to the compound with a taco salad in the passenger seat. It's almost 3pm and you haven't had lunch after running from place to place. Hopefully when you drop off their items, including the shampoo and conditioner you had to drive 40 miles out of the way to get for Natasha, you could eat.

As a truck that looked a lot like a mini tank hit the SUV at a red light you thought to yourself "Today sucks!"

The men in black who drag your battered body from the car and throw you into the mini tank don't say a word. It's been about 30 seconds and you see no one around to help. When they inject you with something that has you floating away you mutter to yourself "Fucking Avengers".

[popcrone818]

Spitfire Sweet Pea x Reader

Okay officially a new story, but don’t worry I am still working on some of my unfinished park as well. So if you follow me don’t be discouraged sweet pea kind of just jumped at me

I followed Archie as he went to warn jughead about the dangers of becoming a serpent, I had to make sure my brother didn’t ruin any chance of keeping his friendship with him, it was my civil duty as younger sister. Jughead was leaving the trailer as we rounded the corner.

“Archie, Aurora,” Jughead started down the steps looking around frantically.

“We gotta talk Jug,” Archie started.

“Uh nows really not a good time, okay, you need to leave, okay, both of you.” Jughead put his hands on Archie’s shoulder but looked over at me, seeming to just remember that I was standing there too.

“What the hell is going on!” Archie tried to get jughead to talk to him.

“Serious man, take your sister and just go.” Jughead started to try to push Archie way.

“What the hell do we have here?” A strong deep voice that didn’t belong to Archie nor jughead growled from behind us. I whipped my head around to find a rather tall fierce looking serpent with what appeared to be the aftermath of a black eye slowly fading away from his left eye socket, making his way up to us. He was flanked by a few other younger serpents I had seen around. Fangs Fogarty being one of them, he and I had spoken on the occasion and he was one of the few that were nice to me.

“They’re just leaving alright.” Jughead said as he walked over to the tall serpent.

“You’re friends with these thugs?” Archie exclaimed from behind me. My head whipped in his direction ripping my eyes away from the serpents and their leather clad shoulders. Was he being serious.

“It’s not what you think,” Jughead stood slightly in front of the serpents as Archie walked up to him.

“Are you joining the serpents?” Archie questioned incredulously.

“If he survives.” Tall dark and stormy said dangerously. His voice was deeper than I originally thought.

I could see his serpent tattoo on his neck as he looked over at Jughead. “And go ahead and call us thugs one more time.” He started to make his way to Archie and I, a hard look written on his face, he clearly wanted a fight and if I didn’t get Archie out of here soon he surely would get what he wanted.

“Jughead! These are the guys that attacked me.” Jughead placed a hand on the tall serpents shoulder and pushed him back keeping him at arms length away from Archie and I. “And Reggie and Veronica and Dilton, your friends,” Jughead scowled at Archie, I was going to have my hands full with these boys if they didn’t stop soon.

“Is that why you’re here? To warn me?”

“No, I came here to tell you to stay away from Betty and Rory, she doesn’t want to see you anymore, and I don’t want to see you hanging around my place for my sister.” I could see the anger rolling off Jughead in waves. I noticed the tall serpent look over to Fangs and roll his eyes.

“Screw you I just saw Betty yesterday she,” a look of complete horror crossed his face “she was fine.”

“No dude, she’s been wanting to break up with you for weeks, she’s been agonising over it, since you crossed to the dark side, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.” Archie returned a look of remorse on his face.

“What so she sent you, Betty would never do that!”

“If you don’t believe me then call her, and feel free to tell her you’re a serpent now too I’ll bet she’ll love that, she saw where you were headed Jughead, okay we all did, and she knows you can’t be with them and with her and come on man you know it too.” I watched as Archie’s words started to sink in for Jughead, his bottom lip started to wobble slightly and tears gathered in his eyes. Suddenly his face changed.

“Tell Betty I got the message,” a hard look was plastered on is face.

“Yeah, come on Aurora, we’re leaving.” And he started to walk away from his best friend.

“I’m sorry Archie but I’m staying, I’ll see you at home.” He shrugged and walked off.

“Rory, just go home, you don’t need to see this.” Jug came closer to me and spoke softly.

“Listen to him Northsider, you don’t need to be here.” The tall serpent called out to me.

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up, I’m going to be here for my friend whether you like it or not!” I turned my gaze to him, he looked shocked for a spilt second before his eyes darkened once again. Jughead turned to the rest of the serpents.

“What! Did you enjoy the show?”

“Show hasn’t even started yet.” Tall, dark and stormy crossed his arms over his chest before chuckling towards Fangs. Soon enough the serpents had made a pathway with Jughead standing at one end. I stood further off to the side to keep watch. As Jughead made his way through the line up of serpents I cringed every time a blow was landed on him. The gauntlet seemed intense, much more intense than the other challenges he had to go through. He had told me about them because I was less judgmental than my brother and the rest of his friends. Jughead spit out some blood before looking at the tall serpent from before.

“That all you got?” Jughead challenged him. There was almost half a foot between the two boys snd I winced when the serpent clenched his fist around a set of brass knuckles and swung for Jughead’s face. He was knocked to the ground and I covered my mouth in shock. I never wanted to be on the wrong side of this serpent. Jughead got back up and spit out some more blood. I held back a gasp as he looked over at me causing the taller serpent to also look over at me. Something flashed in his eyes but it was gone before I could decipher it. The serpents left, tall, dark and stormy giving me one more look before he urned away and followed the rest of them and I walked up to Jug and cradled his face in my hands. I led him into his trailer and sat him down to the dinning table before I walked into the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. I cleaned up the cuts on his face before he stood up.

“I’ve gotta get to the wyrm. You coming or staying here?” He asked, Jughead was always more accepting of me wanting to be involved in things. Archie liked to lock me away from the world and protect me. I nodded at him and got up to follow him out. The tall serpent was playing on my mind the whole time as I wrapped my arms around Jug as we headed to the Whyte wyrm on his bike. He helped me off his bike even though he knows I don’t need the help, and we made our way inside where the lighting was tinged slightly red and it was dimmer than outside. I squinted before my eyes adjusted and Jughead placed his hand on the small of my back and lead me to the bar where a pink haired girl was standing behind the bar.

“I see you survived Juggie, Tall boy is just over there if you want to go get your very own jacket.” She said to him. He nodded at her before turning to me. I waved him off and turned around on the stool to the girl.

“I’m Aurora, but I usually go by Rory.” I held my hand out to her to shake. She shook it grinning.

“I’m Toni, but I usually go by Toni.” She giggled which caused me to giggle with her. My eyes found Jughead again just as he slipped his arms into his new serpent jacket. I smiled fondly at him.

“Are you two together?” She asked me as she poured out a glass of coke and pushed it towards me. I shook my head taking a large sip of the drink.

“No he’s my brothers best friend, but he knows that I’m more accepting of all of this than Archie is, or really any of our friends.” She nodded at me before gesturing behind me.

“Sweet pea hasn’t stopped watching you since you walked in.” I whipped my head around to look where she was looking and I noticed the tall serpent that had done Jug’s initiation. I looked down at what I was wearing, ripped black skinny jeans with a loose fitting band t-shirt, I don’t think I stood out that much. I shrugged at Toni before turning back around to her, before I could open my mouth to say something to her I heard a booming deep voice from behind me.

“You lost northsider?” I swivelled around on my stool and looked up at the giant of a serpent member.

“No I came with Jughead, got a problem take it up with him.” I turned back around to face Toni as she filled up my glass once again. His hands came to rest on the bar on either side of me, I felt his breath on the back of my neck and involuntarily shivered and I turned my head to look at him. All I could see of him was his deep brown eyes and a dark curl falling onto his forehead.

“The names Sweet Pea, but you are definitely not supposed to be here, this place is for serpents only.” He pulled away from me and I turned back around to look at him as he stared down at me. I could see Jughead out of the corner of my eye but he didn’t intervene he knew I could hold my own.

“Well then I might just have to become a serpent myself, I like this place.” I shrugged and I watched as both Sweet Pea and Jughead’s eyes nearly popped out of their heads.

“You want to become a serpent?” I heard from somewhere off to the side of me. I ripped my gaze away from Sweet Pea and looked at the serpent who spoke. I took a deep breath and nodded my head. Archie could kill me later, I wanted this. Everyone had been nothing but accommodating to me in the short time I had been sitting at the bar. Some of the older serpents had even tried to talk to me while I was talking to Toni. “Names Tall boy little lady, if you want to be a serpent then initiation will start for you tomorrow. Be here at 12 noon, and be ready.” He turned around and walked back up to what I assumed was the office reserved for only the leader of the serpents, usually FP but with him in jail it was Tall boy. Everyone went back to their own business after that including sweet pea, but Jughead made his way over to me.

“Are you insane? Archie will kill you!” Jughead sat down next me and I shrugged.

“I’m sick of being looked down upon as only Archie’s little sister. It’s time for me to be my own person don’t you think?” I asked him crossing my arms against my chest.

“I knew you and I were too similar for Archie’s liking.” He pulled me into his chest as he chuckled looking around. “I don’t know what they do for female initiation though so maybe talk to Toni about it.” I nodded against his chest before pushing him away and turning to Toni.

“So what happens? What have I gotten myself into this time?” She chuckled before filling a shot glass up with whiskey.

“You’re in for a real treat. Everything is basically the same, you get hotdog, gotta recite the serpent laws and gotta grab the knife. Only difference is us girls gotta do a strip tease for the other members.” I scrunched my face up at her as she pushed the shot glass to me. “Drink up, I think you need it because you didn’t think this through.” I nodded at her and downed the shot of whiskey. It ran smoothly down my throat without even earning a grimace from me.

“Wow that’s good, I’ve never had whiskey that smooth before.” I felt a body come up behind me.

“It’s the best the wyrm has to offer.” He breathed into my ear. I turned around and saw an older man maybe in his mid 30’s leaning against the bar beside me. “Only the best for the prettiest girl here.” He brushed a strand of my hair away from my face. “Names Jason sweet cheeks, what’s yours?”

“Aurora.” I could see Toni wanting to say something but I shot her a look to not do anything. Her eyes flickered behind me almost startled.

“Well Aurora, could I buy you a drink?” He asked me leaning in a little bit too close. I nodded my head and he gestured for Toni to get me a drink of the whiskey I had had before. I looked back around the wyrm and noticed Fangs, Sweet Pea and Jughead were all standing by a pool table. Sweet Pea was lining up a shot but our eyes connected briefly before Jason grabbed my attention again by placing his hand on my thigh. “I can’t wait for you to do he dance tomorrow night sweet cheeks.” His eyes were hooded and I could tell he had been drinking most of the night. Jughead came over just as Jason’s hand travelled further up my thigh.

“It think its time to go Rory.” He said to me placing a hand in my shoulder and glancing at he older serpent. I nodded and turned back to Jason.

“Thank you for the drink and the company, I’ll see you around.” With that Jughead lead me out to his bike to take me home.

I pulled off Jughead’s helmet from my head and passed it to him.

“Thanks for tonight, I’ll make sure not to tell Archie about any of it.” He gave me a hug and he was on his way home. I made my way inside the house and up to my room, getting stopped by Archie before I could open my door.

“Have fun with the snakes tonight?” He sneered at me, Archie had never been this way with me and I was curious as to way he suddenly changed his attitude during the night.

“What’s wrong with you? Your best friend just became a serpent to protect himself and his dad and all you can do is make his life hell by saying Betty doesn’t want to be with him anymore? You’re a real great friend there Arch, have fun being on your own because I think he’s done with you now. Because I know I sure am.” I hissed at him before going into my own room.

Sweet Pea POV

I watched as the red head that stuck around to watch the gauntlet for Jones walked in, she held herself differently from every other northsider. Instead of the air around her feeling arrogant she was just confident. She was wearing ripped black skinny jeans and a band t-shirt and I found myself staring at her. Fangs nudged me in the side before giving me a look like go and talk to her. I shook my head at him and took my shot at the pool table ready to destroy Fangs.

“You know, she’s actually really nice, she’s always treated me like I was an actual person. We have bumped into each other at pop’s a few times. Other than being that red headed weirdo’s sister she’s pretty cool.” I chose to ignore him completely but I looked up at her a few times during our game. I noticed she got along with Toni well, the two giggling at something before the red head turned around to look in our direction. She looked down at herself before shrugging and turning back to Toni. I pushed my pool cue into Fangs before I made my way over to the two girls keeping my eyes on her at all times.

“You lost Northsider?” I sneered at her.

“No, I came with Jughead, got a problem with it take it up with him.” She turned back around to face Toni. I moved closer to the girl and placed both my hands on the bar on either side of her. I watched as she shivered as my breath hit the back of her neck. She turned her head to look at me and I was suddenly overcome with the feeling that I should kiss her. Her bright green eyes shone under the dim lights of the wyrm. I could tell she was intently looking at me too.

“The names Sweet Pea, but you are definitely not supposed to be here, this place is for serpents only.” I whispered in her ear before moving away from her. I watched as she glanced over to Jones before looking me in the eyes the best she could from her sitting position.

“Well then I might just have to become a serpent myself, I like this place.” I nearly choked on my own spit as Jones came up to us almost choking as well.

“You want to become a serpent?” I heard Tall Boy say as he made his way over to our small group. She nodded and looked at him. “Names Tall boy little lady, if you want to be a serpent then initiation will start for you tomorrow. Be here at 12 noon, and be ready.” With that he walked away, everyone else turned away from the scene and after I gave her one last look I made my way back over to Fangs.

After a game I watched as an older serpent named Jason made his way over to her, he was getting too close to her snd I could tell she was becoming uncomfortable with it.

“Dude, just go over there. She’s got bite and could give you a run for your money. But stop staring its weird.” Fangs shoved my side again before I took my shoot watching her out of the corner of my eye. I watched as she downed the shot of whiskey he bought her. She looked around the bar and our eyes connected briefly causing me to mess up my shot when he placed his hand on her thigh. She jumped slightly at the contact and I felt my jaw tense, he needs to learn how to keep his damn hands to himself. Jughead watched me before he made his way over to her and lead her out. I walked up to Toni to get myself a beer to calm down.

“You were watching her all night.” Toni said as she cleaned a glass that had just been washed. I didn’t give her an answer because it wasn’t a question. “You helping with her initiation?”

“I don’t get why she gets to just say ‘I think it’ll be fun to be a serpent’ and bam her initiation is tomorrow, most of us are relatives of old serpent members. Ahhh”. Slammed my hand down on the bar in front of me.

“Dude just chill, okay, she’s actually really cool once you get to know her.” Toni told me getting me another beer.

“I’ll be the judge of that. I’m sure Tall boy will make me do her initiation anyway.” I shrugged before finishing off my last bear and nodding to Toni and Fangs before I left.

Aurora POV

The next day I made sure Archie was nowhere to be seen when I made my way out the door. He was stood against my car with his arms crossed.

“Where do you think your going? And dressed like that?” He asked me, I looked down at what I was wearing, ripped grey skinny’s with a tight fitting tank top and leather jacket across my shoulders, under this I was wearing a sexy pair of red lacy lingerie ready for the serpent dance I would be doing later that night.

“I’m going out, to see your best friend because apparently you’ve forgotten you have one.” I tried to push him out of the way to get to my car.

“He chose them Rory, what do you want me to do?” He threw his hands up for emphases before letting them fall at his sides loudly.

“I want you to understand why he’s doing this. He goes to school there! From what I’ve heard it is not the best place to be if your not in a gang for protection, you might not think much of the serpents but in the few short months that I’ve been around Jug and the serpents I haven’t had a problem with them, so maybe get off your high horse and see that your best friend needs you before he replaces you with someone he see’s more as family!” I yelled at him as I finally got him to move away from my car. I slammed the door in his face and watched as his face fell as I drove out of the driveway.

My initiation was quick and all too soon I was standing by the stage ready to perform my serpent dance. I wrung my hands together as Toni walked up to me holding a shot glass.

“They’re all pigs out there, but its part of initiation and if you want to be a serpent all I can say to you is good luck and maybe find something or someone to focus on.” She held out the glass to me and without even thinking I downed the shot, feeling it spread throughout my body as the music started. “I’ll be waiting right here for you with your new jacket.” She gave me a thumbs up and I walked out on the stage.

I looked out into the sea of serpents hoping to find Jughead to have something to focus on. As I flung my shirt off my body my eyes connected with Sweet Pea’s, he held his beer in his hand bringing it up to his lips as I shimmied out of my jeans. He and I held eye contact as I finished up my dance. I could hear all the serpents chanting and hollering at me but all I could focus on was Sweet Pea. As the music stopped I rushed off the stage where Toni was standing with my jeans and new serpent jacket. I quickly redressed myself as Fangs and Sweet Pea joined us to the side of the stage. Sweet Pea helped me put my jacket on before he gathered up my hair to pull out of my collar.

“You’re officially a serpent now. How do you think your brothers going to react once he finds out?” He placed his hands on my shoulders. I shared a look with Toni, I had completely forgotten about Archie today.

“I guess he’ll just never find out then.” I shrugged as the four of us made our way to the bar. I felt Sweet Pea squeeze my shoulder before he sat down on a stool and turned to Toni who had already grabbed beers for us all.

“You’re brother is going to kill you Rory.” I felt Jughead place his hands where Sweet Pea had his moments ago. I shrugged at him as I took a sip of my beer.

“Honestly I think he needs to get his head out of his ass. You guys are actually really cool and I’m glad I get to call you my friends now too. Let him kill me he wouldn’t he loves me too much.” The door to the wyrm was thrown open and all I could see was a bunch of letterman jackets in blue and gold walk in like they owned the joint.

“Aurora! We’re going home now!” I heard Archie yell at me walking over to us at the bar.

“Um, no thanks I’m good here.” I turned my body away from him. He stood over me but I watched as Sweet Pea stood up to my right and Reggie stood up next to Archie. Part of me shied away from Archie and Reggie and the other part of me wanted to be a serpent, so I stood up next to Sweet Pea gently placing my hand on his as a way of telling him to stand down. I placed my body slightly in front of Sweet Pea’s and stared down Archie and Reggie as best I could being nearly a foot shorter than the three boys currently surrounding me.

“You’re one of them now? A serpent?” Archie scoffed in my face, I felt Sweet Pea stiffen slightly and move closer now touching my back with his lower stomach.

“Yes now please leave before you make a fool of yourself even more than your doing now!” I pointed to the door and watched Archie turn his head to look, I grabbed Sweet Pea’s bicep and basically ripped him back towards the bar.

“You know, I’d still bang you Andrew’s even if you are just another serpent slut.” Reggie whispered in my ear closest to Sweet Pea. I felt him tense up again but this time I let him go. He swung his fist into reggie’s jaw and suddenly there was an all out brawl in the middle of the wyrm. I watched Reggie and Sweet Pea continue to go at each other. Archie pulled Reggie off Sweet Pea and Jughead grabbed Sweet Pea.

“You’ve just made a big mistake Rory.” Archie yelled as he dragged the bulldogs out of the wyrm. I turned back to Toni who handed me a shot. I took it gratefully before I turned to Sweet Pea. He had a bruise already starting to form on his cheek and a cut lip.

“You didn’t need to do that Sweet Pea, I can handle Reggie.” I told him placing my hand on his cheek gently so as to not hurt him.

“What’s serpent law number 1 Rory?” He looked me in the eyes.

“No serpent stands alone.” I recited. He nodded and turned his head away from me. “I better go have a screaming match with my brother, I’ll see you guys later.” Toni nodded at me and I made my way out of the wyrm and started my walk back to the Northside

[literaryspinster]

Preview: STJTTT Ch. 13 (slightly nsfw)

I wasn’t planning on posting a preview for this latest chapter, but my reblog of ch. 12 confused some people and I felt kind of bad about it, so here are the first 800 words of Ch. 13: All Along The Watchtower By the time they both wake up, the sun hasn’t risen quite yet, and the heady scent of their passion has since wafted out through the cracked windows. After dressing and combing their sleep ruffled hair, they take advantage of the couple of free hours they have before Rachel and Gar return, sharing a joint between the two of them as his head rests in her lap. It’s one more activity to add to the list of things he never thought he’d do before this trip, like sleep with a stranger or take magic mushrooms. And it would be easy to say that he was corrupted in some way, but honestly, compared to the intensity of the fighting overseas, this feels safe and almost innocent. 

The sort of things that the establishment got wrong about being a good citizen dawn on him even further with every moment spent tasting her lips on the deftly rolled cigarette. The hippies were never the ones throwing bombs, after all.

“So, you had grass on you this whole time and didn���t say anything?” He asks her as she passes it down to him. He sucks in the smoke and lets it burn in his lungs for a bit before blowing it back out. It doesn’t make him cough as violently as other novices, since smoke inhalation had been part of the territory for a soldier.

“Nah, I got it off of the face painter the first day,” she explains.

“That sweet old lady who painted the daisies on Rachel?”

“Mm hmm. I wasn’t about to get caught with it on a cross country trip. But even if I did I probably wouldn’t have said anything. No offense but I thought you were a square.”

He shrugs, “I am a square.”

“And yet you’re here with me, what a world.”

He passes the joint back, and occupies his fingers with her curly hair instead, soft and spongy and almost wine dark in the dim light. It frames her face like a halo as she looks down at him and he stares back, absently aware of the stupid grin on his face.

“What?” she says with a chuckle.

“Nothing, it’s just the more I look at you the more I want to look at you.”

She smiles so warmly he’s reminded again of the few crazed hours from last night when he was thoroughly convinced that she was a giant star.

“You better stop it before I kidnap you back to San Francisco,” she says, humor in her voice, but not quite enough to totally pass for a joke. His smile fades and he considers her words.That feeling that overcame him right before he fell asleep, of not wanting to go back home, is still knocking around inside. He’d much rather let her kidnap him than go back to the way things were. But he isn’t high enough anymore to seriously consider something as crazy as that. 

The total break from reality made him see exactly what he wanted, and now in the relative clarity of the morning after, he’s reminded again of why he simply can’t have it, at least not yet. He still needs help that he can’t possibly ask of her. And running away with Kory would still be running away.  Instead, when he gets home, he’ll call Donna and let her know that everything is going to be okay. He’ll ship the urn first class back to Mrs. Todd along with a pretty card, and write a letter to Captain Wayne, thanking him for his guidance and support through some of the most hellish and tragic months of his life. He’ll sign up for the bar exam because working as a PI forever would be like eternally running in place. And finally, the most daunting of all, he’ll find someone who can make him understand why the nightmares won't stop, or why he kept punching that man at the protest long after the fight was over, or why he can be perfectly fine one moment and practically suicidal the next. 

Dick has always been a little suspicious of headshrinkers, but there are too many stories out there about shell-shocked veterans ruining their lives and their families over the bad feelings carried with them.  He needs to make himself better before he can love another person the way they need to be loved. 

“How about you kiss me instead?” he says before the silence can go on for too long. She bends at the waist and he catches her lips with his. 

[proclaimersofheroes]

The Cracks In Our Family

 For @gentrychild​, and their lovely nonnies. Feast, vampires and loyalists!  https://archiveofourown.org/works/24644959 For those who prefer ao3 He didn't want to go back. 

Crawling back to that house, after all that man had done to him? No.

He'd found the family grave, his name washed of the red that had declared him still alive. What ashes had they used? What bones? 

It took a lot of effort and a crowbar to get into the storage underneath the Todoroki family grave. But, after living so long on the street it hadn't made him that much more grimy.

Urns lined the space neatly. Blue eyes fell on the newest looking one, and his hands hovered over it.

He was sweating, his throat felt tight. The hammering of his heart in his chest should prove beyond all doubt that he was alive.

Right?

 A small breeze ruffled matted white hair. Patchy skin itched and sagged, dirty clothes and skin threatening infection along burns that were prepared to split open. The earlier birdsong was drowned out by the memory of hearing his father read out an obituary for him. 

"Todoroki Touya was a determined young man, and a budding hero. Even with the control he was taught, his flames were too powerful for his body. Had he only better restraint and better health, my eldest son would not have been taken from us so soon."

A bitter laugh bubbled from singed lips. Todoroki Enji, the 'hero' Endeavor, didn't know the meaning of the word restraint. Not when it came to catching villains, not when it came to chasing All Might's back. Not when it came to hiding his distaste of people. Not when it came to breeding and abusing Touya's mom.

 Not when it came to beating and burning Touya, little Shoto.

 He couldn't laugh any more, bile bubbling up from an empty, roiling stomach instead. The smell of burning flesh, of intense pain so great before it turned cold and numb. Visits to doctors with medical quirks who were passed fistfulls of money to keep quiet. Little baby Shoto, not even fully reading and writing hiragana or katakana, covered in massive bruises and sobbing on the floor.

Todoroki Enji had control over everything from his fire to his family to his words, but he never bothered with restraint. Always more, always faster, always hotter.

 Always Touya taking his ire, to try and spare Shoto and his mom. 

If he thought Touya was dead, who would protect his mom and siblings?

 He knew he had to go back.

 He couldn't. 

Go home.

Run away. 

Go home. 

Run away. 

Something wet dripped on Touya. It startled him out of his endless turmoil, the cycle of indecision. Blue eyes blinked, and when Touya touched his face his fingers came away bloody. "Shit," another drop landed on him, and Touya wondered where else he was bleeding from now.

But no, while Touya had been trapped in his own head clouds had moved in. The sun was lower in the sky, painting orange across the distant horizon while dripping clouds puffed up all purple and blue. He had to get under shelter. 

But first, Touya braced himself for what he had come here to check. Lifting the lid of 'his' urn, the young man peered inside. 

Well. It seemed even in death he had been replaced.

___

It seemed that scars made you look untrustworthy, even these days. 

Normal people avoided him, at the first glimpse of his charred flesh and grungy appearance. He was covered in filth from living outdoors, begging and dumpster diving for scraps. His previously white shirt was yellow, grey and brown with mostly unknown stains, grey shorts tattered as he'd scavenged and had to tear strips for bandages. 

Criminals and lowlifes seemed split between whether his scars meant that he was dangerous, or that he was weak and easy pickings. His fire had scared them off easily enough, but there were a few who had caught him off guard.

Of course, there were nice people on the streets too. Homeless, those down on their luck or kicked out due to their quirks. Or lack of, in quite a few cases. A foreigner named Jane had shared her meager meal with him last week, after he'd scared off some black-tongued addicts trying to steal from her. 

It was hard to keep hold of any morals out here. But he wouldn't be like his father, who didn't care which villains died in his arrests. No, 'Dabi' as he went by now would not be a murderer. 

Of course, Dabi would be dead soon if he didn't do something. The teen hissed as he pressed at the tattered edge of his scars. The bubble under dead flesh moved slowly, until he was able to extract the pus from the infected area. 

The shelters were overcrowded, the hospitals would ask questions he couldn't answer. 

But, there was one place he knew of that was always stocked with medical supplies. A hot shower. Washing machines. Food.

Pushing off the wall of the alley, Dabi looked towards the sky. It would be late by the time he reached his old home. That was just fine for him, everyone would be asleep. 

He skulked down the streets and alleys, doing his best to act natural, act like he wasn't planning on breaking and entering a 'hero's' home. The sun cast a long shadow, eventually taking most light with it. 

In blues and greys, Dabi traveled, staying out of the illumination of street lamps. The night turned cool, causing shivers along what nerves hadn't been burnt out. By now, Dabi was used to moving in the dark. For some reason, he suspected that his eyesight was better at night than it was before his untimely and mysterious 'death.'

Even having left the place two months ago, Dabi would never forget it. Large imposing gates, locked and barred for the night, before a traditional japanese mansion. 

But it wasn't his first time sneaking into the place, remembering nighttime escapades with Natsuo whenever he wasn't too injured. The hole was right where it had always been, hiding behind hydrangeas. His malnutrition made it even easier to squeeze through. 

As ridiculous as it was, the spare key was where it had always been too, under a false rock by the empty koi pond. 

Silently delighting in dirtying Enji's immaculate home, bare toes rubbed on the waxed floorboards as Dabi tried to decide what he wanted to do first.

___

Shoto needed to pee. 

That was the first and only thought, that led him to carefully crawl out of bed. Rubbing at his eyes, the little boy carefully looked either way down the hall. No one was around, which meant Shoto was free to leave his room. 

All the lights were off, his family sound asleep. Oh so quietly, delicately, Shoto tiptoed with the wall to guide him. He couldn't remember who it was who taught him that the floorboards nearest the wall were quietest, but it was good to remember when he didn't want to catch his father's attention. 

The bathroom was found without incident, and Shoto silently closed the door behind him before turning on the light. It felt damp in the room, for some reason. Little brows furrowed in confusion, but nature's call was too pressing. 

When he stepped onto the stool to wash his hands, Shoto frowned at having to wipe the mirror. Water droplets clung to the smooth surface, and now his hand. Was the mirror sweating? 

When he left the bathroom, Shoto left the door open behind him. Maybe the extra air would cool off the mirror. 

There was a faint rattle from below, followed by a word he didn't know, and the little boy froze. Was someone awake after all? 

His parent's door was closed and dark, so it wasn't his father at least. Peering down, a faint light was visible from the kitchen. 

Juggling between just going to bed and investigating, Shoto's curiosity won in the end. Being as quiet as he could, Shoto snuck down the hallway and then carefully felt out the stairs one by one so he wouldn't trip. 

Reaching the ground floor, he continued his silent quest. His siblings' rooms were dark and quiet too, but he could hear a quiet rumbling as he passed the laundry room. 

No one was supposed to do laundry at nighttime, and Shoto grew worried for whoever it was.

There was something moving around in the kitchen, something big. He could hear the heavy breathing, the crunch of food being bitten into. Was it a villain? 

No, villains attacked people. Focusing, Shoto held out his left hand and called up some fire. It burst to life, traveling up his arm and into his hair. 

His pajamas were fireproof, but the boy didn't even focus on that. No, instead of that he saw blue eyes flash in the light, heard the clatter of the plate and utensils as whatever was in the kitchen flailed and disappeared.

Again he heard that call. "Fuck!" quiet, fast, and Shoto wasn't even sure if it was a word. Slowly, he circled around to get a better look. 

"Hello?" he called in a whisper, and got a response.

"Shh! Shh, shh, shh." Illuminated in his light was a poof of white, retreating away from him backwards. Reflective blue eyes framed by black circles, a large mouth opened with the remains of a sandwich in it swallowed by black. 

In his surprise, Shoto lost control and the fire went out. The boy was left blinking in rapid confusion as he tried to adjust to the sudden darkness. "Hello?" Shoto tried again, and got no response. 

He didn't dare try his fire again, instead fumbling around in the dark for a bit. Whatever small thing had been making a sandwich in the kitchen must be gone. Shoulders slumping in disappointment, Shoto carefully made his way back to bed. 

In the morning, it was a surprise to get some time with his remaining brother. When he mentioned his encounter, the bigger boy frowned. "Are you sure it wasn't a dream?" 

"There was a mess in the kitchen." he pointed out. "Bits of bread and lettuce and meat." Natsuo at least seemed to consider this seriously. 

"Touya used to say we had racoons and tanuki come in sometimes." His tone held sorrow, and Shoto tucked himself more into his brother's side. Ever since Touya had died four months back, the hole in their family hadn't closed up. "Maybe they're back. What did it look like again?" 

Shoto thought back, through the haze of having woken up in the middle of the night. "It was scared of my fire. And was big, had reflective eyes. Lots of black and white, with circles around its eyes."

"Yep, sounds like a raccoon to me."