#you know... the land itself is ok with being fucked up towards the invaders so that's. ok you know. it's ok to fuck them up

[deathdxnces]

also also also they talk about how noxus wasn't the first nation to attack, because ionia being so decentralized and rich in magic made it a tempting target to the rest of the world (and we know a couple freljordians and pirates also have fucked things up in ionia) but more importantly, they say the ionians managed to stay the way they were because ionia was always dangerous to invaders and it fought back to protect herself and her people, and they give as examples the land making supplies disappear and scattering troops in 'soul altering' forests and i was reminded of ixtal again because it gets the noxians separated and killed in that one short story

but i am thinking specifically about the implication ionia fought back and fucked people up either physically or on a soul level and that's so interesting when so many ionians still struggle with the notion of fighting back

and even more specifically i'm thinking about that being a central thing on why irelia thinks it's so ok to kill noxians but not ionians

[c-atm]

A Gems Djinn One-shot.

The 18-year old chest burned as he continued to run further into the temple. They were invaded by monsters, not gems..Monsters of earth...He didn't know what type but they were humanoid and they were able to match his mother; Onyx, and the gems. The face she gave him, when she was tossed into the sand on her back. The enemy blade meeting and struggling  against her midnight octagon barrier. 

"Steven! Get the cobalt chest in the temple flame, now!"

Never did he see such a look of reluctant defeat on his mother's face. The mighty Onyx. Leader of the Crescent gems. Nor did he ever see the gems look so shocked and fearful.

He was a hybrid bearing a gem imprint instead of a true gem, and only exhibited gem physicality. He knew he couldn't help against these...demons...Not against their magical prowess. Not without whatever was in that chest.

So he ran fast, following his mother's order. Deep down the stairs, through corridors, round corners  after corners. Why did this place have so many corners?

"WHERE ARE YOU LITTLE HYBRID! LET SEE YOU POOF POOF POOF. LIKE THAT OF YOUR MOMMA."

His eyes widened as he heard one of the invaders' voices. He didn't  have time to think about how the invaders got in or the status of his family, though. He could feel the energies  of the flame close by, urging him to run towards it.

He soon found himself in large a circular ruin, with a blue flame both rising and falling within its center through two openings on the floor and ceiling, it's only light. Rune and glyph covered the area completely. Six sections lined up against walls, four on each side, in each was a stone body part. At the very back on a stone bench..

"The chest!" 

[[MORE]]

He ran towards it with a smile, the chest shined the same color as the flame, outlined with black and gold glyph. He stopped to stare at the box, His heart pounding into his chest as he did. It had no latch, no keyhole. He laid a single fingertip on it, 

“”Huuuuu-haaahahahaha!”

Brown femenine kissable lips flashed within his mind; a seductive gasping laugh resounded within him causing him to back up in caution…  Whatever was in there..Was not to be trifled with..and yet he can feel his cheeks heat up.

“COME ON YOU SKINNY COWARD! IT'S TIME TO POOF POOF POOF!"

He looked towards the entrance  before turning back to the chest. He held the top of the chest and tried to force it open.

"Fuck!"  It was a no go, probably magically sealed. How the hell was he supposed to open this box. He gripped the box and squeezed trying to shatter it...

Nope.

"WELL WELL WELL..LOOK AT THIS PLACE." 

Steven, froze at the horrendously gravel voice, before turning towards the entrance. 

a questionably hunan of snow white skin and lips, gray hair straggly hair, tall bone thin body, red eyes, inhumanly large hands and feet with yellowish rotten nails sharpened to claws and talons, and crooked, fanged, diseased teeth. 

Dressed in a tattered red and black body suit, with a long crooked tie. Bangles on their wrist and ankles, made of bone gold and skull.

“THIS IS SUCH A COOL PLACE. CLASSIC MYSTICAL RUINS. YOU WOULDN'T KNOW SUCH A PLACE EXISTED  IN THIS DAY IN AGE…

It scratched the top of it's head, making a sound like stone scratching a chalkboard, as it yawned revealing a large, green, viper like tongue. Its breath smelled of rotten flesh.

"WELL, GUESS YOU WOULD KNOW, BEING A GEM AND ALL. THOUGH, FROM WHAT I HEARD YOU GUYS ARE FROM THE STARS, RIGHT?"

Steven gulped as the creature took a step towards him, a look of aggression on its face.

"YOU'RE QUITE RUDE, LITTLE SHARD..I'M TRYING TO HOLD A CONVERSATION AND YOU'RE NOT ENGAGING! HAVE YOUR MOTHER TAUGHT YOU NO ETIQUETTE!" 

Steven watched in horror as the demon's stomach swelled, it's abdominal muscles pressed tightly against its skin. The monster reached and plunged one its entire hand inside its swollen midsection, before ripping out a thin malleable bone half as tall as Steven, dripping with cream colored blood. With a flick of the wrist the bone hardened, and glistened in the flames light it swung it against the rune wall, cutting through as if it was flesh. 

"....NOW THEN. LITTLE SHARD. SINCE YOU DON'T WISH TO TALK, HOW ABOUT YOU GIVE ME THE CHEST, YEAH?  WE KANARAKAS, LIVE UP TO OUR VOCATION; AND AS SUCH I, ANTIQUARIAN MUST COLLECT THAT CHEST...AND YOUR HEAD"

Steven gripped the chest harder at the claim, glaring in defiance. He had no false hope of actually  beating this 'Antiquarian'..but he wasn't gonna make it easy for them. Though he really had no idea what to do.. Watching as the monster crouched low before dashing forward ready to run Steven through. 

Instinct took over as Steven intercepted the stab with the chest. The energies of chest and bone created a small implosion, slamming the boy back to the eastern wall and his opponent to the opposite wall.

"Ow!" Steven winced as he stood feeling a bit of stone fall off his back. He didn't have time to survey the damage as Antiquarian was already striking down towards his skull, attempting  to split him in half. 

"Face Up!" Steven complied, intercepting the bone again with the face of the chest. A different result occurred this time, as Steven was unharmed and Antiquarian was electrocuted by a stream of supernatural lighting running through the bone blade to the demon. The monster pain of agony was silenced after a few seconds as its body crumpled  over.

Steven stumbled back on to the floor, the smell of burned flesh getting to him. He sighed as he turned towards the chest in his hands. He breathed deeply as he turned towards his opponent, seeing that it hadn't made any movement but was clearly breathing.

"I don't know how I feel about that?" Steven groaned as he relaxed, looking up and zone out a bit. He took a shocking deep breath as the scent of jasmine, chai and bluebell hit his nose...and a gentle weight hit his left shoulder. He turned his head towards the weight and for a split second, saw an azure blue silhouette of a girl his age leaning upon his shoulder. 

"Who are…?"

She was about to turn towards him when they heard the growl of Antiquarian as he stirred and sat up in pain.

Steven gulped as he reached for her hand only to meet ground. He turned to her to realize she was gone. 

"What the fu.."

Antiquarian roared as, turning towards Steven, hate in its eyes. Steven stood his ground chest in his hands, his determination meeting Antiquarian's hate and wounded pride as the monster stalked forward swinging a clawed hand at the young man's skull. 

Steven stepped under the attack and moved in close. He slammed the chest, hard into the stomach of Antiquarian.

Antiquarian loomed over Steven, as he bent forward in pain.

"JUST A BOX."

Steven's eyes grew in fear before he was snatched and skipped along the floor by Antiquarian into the southwestern wall, hitting his chest and landing on his side withering in pain. He struggled to breathe let alone move, as he clenched the chest closer. Struggled but did so. 

He felt the box glow one last time as speckles of magical energy flowed towards him healing his damage, leaving the chest dull in color. He still couldn't open it though.

"Oh come on!" That was the only lamentation Steven was allowed as Antiquarian was already mid punch.He was able to narrowly dodge the hook, watching it crack the stone wall where his head was. 

"Ok..Now what!"Steven thought about running for the exit, only to realize he would literally go  over, under or through the monster. All seemed impossible. It was hopeless.

"GIVE ME THE BOX!" Antiquarian roared as he took another swing at Steven, this time at the boy's ribs. Steven leapt back, but the blow glancingly connected. It was enough to get the point of cross as he felt a bruise forming. He winced but held his ground as he lifted the box up over his head, a threatening look in his eye. He was poised to slam the boxed towards the floor.

"You want the box!" 

He watched as Antiquarian froze in it's movements, eyes trained on the box.

"The flame. Burn me, emblaze me, RELEASE ME!"

His eyes widened as he heard the voice of the chest again. He turned his eyes towards the flame and breath deep. 

"Go get it!"

"NO!!!"

Time seemingly slowed as Steven tossed the chest into the flame.They watched as the flames encased the chest in an orb that crushed and burned the box. It wasn't long until the chest broke and burned away, the flames kept moving as it was.

Steven didn't get a moment to feel defeated before he was slammed to the stone floor  unconscious.

"BASTARD!" Antiquarian snapped at the hybrid, its hands ready to shatter Steven windpipe for costing it its treasure.  

Just as Antiquarian hands enclosed around Steven's neck and lifted him from the ground, a sound coming from the flame stole their attention, it was that of a giggling girl.

Antiquarian snarled as it didn't see anyone, but heard the giggling resound all over the ruin.

"Well, what do we have here, a Kanaraka? I thought you single minded fools were all destroyed. What do you call yourself, what's your purpose?"

""I AM ANTIQUARIAN! SHOW YOURSELF!, I KNOW IT WAS YOU WHO WAS DEFENDING THE BOY... COME SO I CAN COLLECT YOUR HEAD AS WELL."

"If you know that..You must know that I'm  already here."

"SHOW YOURSELF!"

"OR WHAT!?" 

 The force that came from the yell, knocked the Kanaraka away from Steven and onto the wall, pinning it there. Unable to move, the monster could only watch as the flames began to swirl and twist around themselves, as a microscopic, dim azure wisp like orb enlarged itself in the center of the flammes, second by second. 

Steven groaned feeling the heat of the area, fluttering his eyes he looked towards the flame and fell in awe at what he was witnessing.

As it grew, the orb seemed to take basic human shape, floating within the flame. First, of an infant, a toddler then a child. After that the shape became identifiably feminine as it ‘aged’ to that of an older teen. A swell of breast, the curves of hips, the softness of the shape, the lack of anything phallic.

Soon, the stone body parts began to hover from their pedestals and fly towards the flame attaching themselves to ‘her'. First her arms and legs, followed by her torso, and finally the head. The pieces melted and melded together in a nice skin of magma in the form of 'her' as the flames continued toward dance around 'her',caressing her in a gentle embrace. 

It was at this moment that the flames no longer swirled around ‘her’ but flew within her; illuminating her form, energizing it and giving her body heat...Giving her life as 'She’ began to move within the flame. 

"huuuhaaaa." Her chest began to rise gently as 'she' took her first breath. Her fingers began to twitch, her toe curled, her lips quivered and finally her eyes slowly opened.

She moved her head up looking straight, ignoring the flames that found their place within her as they restitched her existence to the living. 

Steven's heart skipped multiple beats as he gazed into her very human eyes. Powerful...Alluring...Charismatic.. The most illuminating pearls of black he ever saw, locked with his own brown eyes.

He watched her descend to the ground as if led by the very flames entering her, appearing as a goddess of molten earth and azure light. ‘She’ landed in a kneel, still as the stone she was encased, the flames finally dying out as she began to stand. 

Her movements were slow and steady, as if she was afraid she would break otherwise, She turned fullt toward Steven and slowly stepped forward, leaving melted footprints on the stone floor. She watches as his eyes widen towards her….

“Watch out!!” 

She felt the fist connect with her skull, the air as she sailed across the room, and the destruction of her body as it broke through and was buried by the western stone wall.

Steven's bottom lip quivered in shock before he felt the sparks of rage flicker within him. Ignoring the pain of his body, he stood glaring at the Kanaraka, who stared readily at the crumbled wall.

“Bas-”

“Bastard, don’t you Kanaraka have any basic manners.”

Steven froze at the sound of ‘her’ voice, before turning towards the whole in the wall.

“Holy..”Steven was left breathless as she stepped out into the dim lighted ruin, completely bare, and without shame.

 A slim, curvy and tone build,with long legs. Skin of dark mahogany, small yet full lips, prominent nose, thick umber eyebrows with mid-back length hair of the same color, and those black eyes. On her wrist were azure color markings, in a language he couldn’t make out. 

If Steven hadn't seen her release, he would have thought of her as a slightly taller nineteen year-old human girl, with an exotic air about her. Watching her as she cracked her neck and stretched her back, sides and legs, with a fire engine face.

“YOU..NO NO YOU D-.” Antiquarian growled objectionably, it’s eyes narrow  as it clenched it’s fist tightly, drawing a bit of its own blood due to the pressure.

“Djinn..I’m a Djinn, Kanaraka.” She retorted in the same fashion, before chuckling. “You said your name was Antiquarian, right?” She shook her head mockingly “That’s too good of a name for something like you. How about ‘Collector, or ‘Scavenger’ those seem more your taste.”

The Kanaraka charged with a screech ready to run the girl through, It shot  it’s long clawed hand forward a direct course for the girl windpipe,

“GRRROOAAAAGHH!”

The loud crack of bones breaking resounded in the ruin, as the girl’s fist met with the palm of Antiquarian, breaking it’s thin hand; tearing the bone through its pale flesh.

“What was that you said about taking our head?” The mocking question was followed by the slamming of her left knee into the chin of the demon, making it stumble and fall to its back; it’s jaw loosened by the blow. She looked down at the monster before turning her gaze to Steven, her eyes softening at his red face, despite him not looking towards her , 

“I’ll be right with you, keematee” Cheerfulness in her voice as she gave him a small smirk, it quickly changed  to annoyance when she skipped over a sweeping kick from the demon, She watched the demon somersaulted back to its feet, near Steven.

Antiquarian glanced at the hybrid for a quick second,contemplating taking him hostage, only to be forced to duck and move away as the Djinn girl attempted to strike with her fist; landing in front of Steven and giving the Kanaraka a cool deadly glare. 

“MAHESWARAN! DEVIL OF FIRE AND BRIMSTONE!” Antiquarian snarled, anger and dread vibrating in its throat. Picking up its bone sword  ready to defend itself 

"Huh? Oh My! How informed you are." Her smile and voice was gentle and almost admiring...It never reached her eyes, they remained unchanged.She placed the tips of her index and middle finger on her chin as she walked forward, causing the monster to step back.

"But..I think you’re missing some vital information. Let’s start with the “Fire and Brimstone-” 

“GET BACK!” 

“I understand how one such as yourself could come up with such a conclusion..Seeing how i was brought back..But I must correct you, I am not an elemental of earth or fire. I am not an elemental at all, though I have dabbled in using those two..”

“STAY AWAY!” Antiquarian swung the blade towards the girl's torso, ready to slice her in half, Both human and Kanaraka was stunned as she halted the weapons path right before it landed with a palm size vortex from her left hand. The bone weapon shook against the wind. .

“But truly, I admire that of wind.” She enclosed her hand around the blade. “And lightning.” 

Antiquarian was quick to release the weapon, seeing the streaks of blue magic based electricity run up the blade like a crackling livewire. It watched with unease as the girl twisted  the all too large blade around like a baton before resting it on her shoulder, before returning to her stroll towards it

“Second, the ‘Devil” comment. I take offense to such a thing. I’m a Djinn. I bear no imp tail, or horns. I serve no, nor have I ever served, a fallen angel in hell...Though.” She glanced at Steven from the corner of her eye. “I can be devilishly delightful, depending on the mood.”  She teased the boy.

The Kanaraka crouched low, its talon scratching the stone floor, Its mouth tight in rage, baring its teeth. Ready to strike her down at any given moment.. Until, she turned her sight back toward the kanaraka and showed it her eyes...Those eyes warped in wickedness … and felt the strangulation of reality...She would be Antiquarian final visage. 

”Three, and this is very important.”Her voice held an aura of pure sugar, as her smile began to hild the same wickedness as her eyes. She was just a half foot away, looking up at the lengthy monster who looked like he wanted to beg for forgiveness.”Who gave you instruction, allowance to speak of my blood? Do you understand the affornt of your actions?” 

She didn’t give the monster a chance to respond before,heating the bone sword up until it glowed azure and using it to stab it's right shoulder, watching the arm drop off and simultaneously cauterize the wound.

 Antiquarian screamed in pain as it dropped to its knees, it reached for the dropped limb. 

"Well?" She asked as she sliced the fallen  limb a couple of times, scorching it before Antiquarian could reach it. 

The light of the blue flames gave the Djinn visage, a horrifying light. The Kanaraka could only look at those eyes..Those deep black, half-lid eyes illuminate in hellish blue looking down on it. Too afraid to speak.

"Not going to answer, such bad etiquette." She grabbed Antiquarian by its jaw and squeezed.  'Ok answer this..Those gems, do you have them?" 

The Kanaraka shook its head the best it could. 

"You were bragging about my mother being poof..Dissipated." Steven chimed in, his back towards the scene. 

"That's true...So were you lying?"

The Kanaraka sneered in response.

"Oh ho! You did lie. I figured they might still be fighting correct."

As if to answer her answer, a tremor from outside was heard. 

"Sounds like they're about to end their bout. So how about it, Kanaraka? Why come here, huh?"

"I WOULDN'T HAVE COME IF I KNEW YOU WERE HOUSED, MONSTER!"

"But you did know and you did come."

"ALL I KNEW OF WAS THE BOX AND THE HYBRID.."

"You threatened to take my head."

"I WAS UNAWARE OF WHAT THE BOX HELD.." The pleading sorrow in Antiquarian's voice, fell on deaf ears.

"You threatened to take his head."

She received a growl in response. 

'She' sighed dully, tapping the blade on her shoulder as she spoke in its ear. "Antiquarian..That's your name and vocation. To collect ancient treasures...Treasure as he maybe, he's only on the cusp of adulthood. Seventeen-"

"Eighteen." 

"Eighteen years, so far. Not what you would call an antique...You went against  your vocation...What's the punishment for that again?"

"DEATH."

 She nodded as she released its jaw. "You wanna tell me who sent you?"

The Antiquarian said nothing waiting for the blow. 

"I commend your loyalty." 

It was a simple strike of her hand that ended the demons' existence. It didn't scream, howl or roar. It just let it be. It didn't groan when she grabbed it's  heart, didn't wince when her nails punctured it, didn't give any type of negative emotion when it felt itself being added to her existence. All it felt was a gentle, welcoming, warmth of blue. 

"BETTER DEATH THAN MOST, I SUPPOSE."

'She' left no burn, no ash, no smoke. There was no trace of Antiquarian, except  for it's bone blade, which she made vanish in a streak of azure. 

"It's done, you can turn around now. There's  no body."

Steven clenched his fist at the statement, she said it so indifferently. "Right"

He turned his head and quickly turned back around.. He forgot she was still nude.

She saw the red on his ears and smirked an impish smirk before gliding silently towards him. She leaned forward so her head was on his shoulders before giving him a warm held peck on his cheek.

"Gah! What!" Steven yelped before turning towards the girl, getting an eye full. He quickly turned away before taking off his jacket and handing it to her.

"Wear this."

"Hmm?" 'She' blinked as she looked at the jacket, holding her head to the side. "Why?"

"Because, you're nude!"

"And. I think I have a very attractive body."

"That's not the point!"

"I feel nice too, wanna see."

Before he could answer, she pulled him into a hug, placing his head just above her left breast and squeezing him, almost adoringly.

"'What. What are you doing!?"

Thump-thump...Thump-thump

His eyes widened at the sound. A heartbeat, a very strong human heartbeat. From there his body started to acknowledge other aspects. Such as the human warmth of her body, the supple softness and comforting firmness of her flesh. He held her back around the  small of her back..just in curiosity. 

She smiled as she tussled the slightly  smaller man's hair. "Feels nice, right? Just like a human."

He hummed in content unaware of his hands.

She shivered as she felt herself palmed. "Hey hey. You're a little low!"

"Wait, no! I didn't mean to!" 

'She' laughed as the apple red hybrid tried to struggle out of her grasp. "You're so precious! Such a gentleman, my bonded is."

"Bonded?!"

"Well..not yet, I suppose."

Steven was going to retort, when she caressed his face and placed her lips upon his. Steven was stunned at first, his muns telling him to try to break it..but his subconscious..His instinct and heart drove him to do the opposite and so he did…And returned the kiss.

In doing so he felt a heat rise in him, a power and knowledge he didn't have flowing within him, a connection he didn't want to lose.

She broke it gently before stepping back, waiting patiently. Her legs crossed as she bent forward looking up at him.

Steven blushed before taking in her image, feeling his stomach and heart heat up, and not because she was still in the buff. Though he'd doubt  he would ever get used to it. The giggling lips, the shillolute, the voice… All had a face, form and figure. More so than that..

"Connie, get dressed."

It had a name and identity. 

"You see the modern derivative." Connie chuckled before giving him an adorable smile. "Well, if my bonded requests it."

Connie stood straight before looking around the room glyphs with a smirk. With a wave of her hand, the glyphs peeled off the walls like sickles before hovering around her in an illuminating cocoon. A few moments was all that passed, before the cocoon dispersed, revealing Connie.

A blue short jacket with dark green trim, Light blue low-rise short pants, brown cross lace sandals. golden anklets, green elbow length, mid finger gloves, black choker with charms of the sun and moon, one glyph earring in her left ear and a royal azure, cross front bodysuit. Her hair was still out but it now had a star clip in the middle of it. All the 'cloths' were printed with glyphs, though it was nearly impossible  to tell.

She watched his stunned look and felt her cheeks burned a blueish brown, feeling a bit shy at his sight. "I..I try to match the knowledge of cultural modernity I received from our bonding, with my own preference… Am I acceptable?"

Steven shook his head before walking up to the djinn, rubbing the top of her head. " More than acceptable...You're extraordinary."

"Hehehe...Thank you, Keematee." She gave him an appreciative smile. Before she clapped her hands in slight excitement. "Oh..can you lift up your shirt for me?"

"What?!"

"I wanna see your imprint. Please?"

Steven arched an eyebrow before lifting  up his shirt, revealing his birthmark.

Connie beamed at the mark.

"All right."

His mark as a hybrid; A tattoo shaped like a gem in deepest onyx ink with twelve facets with his naval acting as its face. Usually it was a simple design with an unusual hardness in that particular  area...not anymore.

While everything was the same, there was a new addition. upon each  facet and on the face was an azure glyphs. The same one on Connie's wrist. Evidence of their success in bonding.

"Interesting place for the bonding mark but.. I can't dictate where they go."

Steven's eyes widened in surprise at her comment. "What?! Hold on, what's gonna happen  to me?"

Connie chuckled bashfully as she scratched the back of her head. " Nothing bad.. I think?"

"Huh?!"

"I mean..I've never bonded or... At least, I can't remember last time I've bonded..."

Steven groaned. "What the hell,Connie?!"

Connie scoffed in anger. "Hey hey, don't get mad at me for not knowing."

"You're a Djinn! This is a practice for you. Your people do this! How don't you know this?"

"Excuse me, I've been dead for awhile. Sorry if some information got lost during the whole returning to life thing!"

Steven rubbed his temples feeling his anger flare. While Connie turned her back on the hybrid, arms folded..

'Stars, I should've just ignored it when you called out to me.' They both thought silently.

"You called out to me!" They both yelled at each other.  They both stopped, as realization hit.

'Holy, crap'

'Oh my'

'We can hear each other thoughts!',

The two remained silent as they waited for the other to speak or think…

'So..I called out to you..You say?' Connie thought as she played with her hair, glancing at Steven, who looked quizzically.

"You ok Connie? you look a bit blush in the face?"

Connie flushed as she growled. "I'm ok just answer the question!"

"What Question!? You didn't ask anything!"

Connie sighed as she placed her head in her hand.."This. We might have rushed into this."

"I would agree.."

The two looked towards the entrance  and saw a large full figure woman walk in. Hair was long spiked curls down to her ankles, a gray halter top body dress. Her skin was a dark tan, her eyes were a deep black, as were her lips She was Onyx leader of the Crescent gems, Steven's mother..Black diamond..and one of the perpetrators of Connie's murder.

"Steven..Kahanni."

She gave the two a prideful yet knowingly sad smile. Especially when  Steven instinctively grabbed Connie close by the waist and held her hand, while Connie took a protective step forward.

"It's Connie, now."

Onyx smiled a bit more at how in sync they were. "Of course."

"Why did you kill me?"

Onyx scratched her head "You're as blunt as ever…"

"I wanna know too, Black."

Onyx eyes widen at that. Before she settled into a snarky smirk.."Well..guess there's  a lot that needs to be discussed. Come on up to the house when you're ready." With that, she turned on her heels and left the two teens on their own.

[theonetheycallsagey]

Home Invasion

Wow, this one was really fun to write. Action turned up to 11 created a grittier and more intense story. This takes place after the fall of Beacon, where we catch up with one Dash Ospreay as he finds a familiar face in the least likely of places.

Dash belongs to me.

Sienna belongs to @gruntnuker-rwby​

"Ospreay Industries: Celebrating 25 Years of Being #1" 

"Hm. That's what they came up with?" Dash muttered to himself. He stood on the upper balcony, a staircase spiraling to the ground floor on each side. He watched as everyone was filing into the ballroom, exchanging small greetings while waiting for the party to really begin - or at least whatever Atlas qualified as a party. It had only been a couple years, but Dash couldn't help but feel so far removed from this world of clinking martini glasses and fancy suits, such as the one he was clad in now. However, being the heir to one of the biggest corporations in all of Remnant, Dash knew that it almost virtually guaranteed that he would have to show up to its anniversary celebration. 

The next hour consisted of Dash standing by his father's side as he was introduced to several business associates and Atlesian upper class members, none of which were memorable enough for him to recall. He tried to feign interest but it was clear he was not engaged at all. Any attempts of conversation he tried to make were only met with "Why did you leave Atlas for Beacon?" or "You should've kept playing ball" or "You should be starting to run the company". Even when Mr. Schnee himself came to visit his Ospreay Industries partners, Dash couldn't be bothered to listen. He only noticed Weiss mirroring his expression of boredom, shackled to her father just as he was to his. 

To his relief, Dash was eventually set free. He retreated to a corner by himself and spent most of his time staring at gold watch on his wrist, hoping it would tick faster. When he looked up, his eyes glanced toward catering tables. Sat there was his little sister Dawn, clad in a fluttery red gown and her hair let down. She didn't notice her brother approach her, as she was too focused on working in her sketchbook. 

"Do Mom and Dad know you have that with you?" Dash said sternly, arms folded. Dawn's head snapped upwards to face him, and she timidly pulled the book to her chest. Dash shook his head and broke his mock coldness with a chuckle. He lightly messed with Dawn's hair, getting her to let out a childlike giggle. 

"Hey! Quit it!" she said. When she lowered the book to continue where she left off, Dash peered over his shoulder. 

"Whatcha working on?" he asked Dawn. He saw a sketch of a building, one that looked amazing given her age. However, the building looked all too familiar, and when Dawn pointed to a mural on the wall, Dash figured out why. It was a painting of Beacon Academy, one he had seen before at Weiss' concert. 

Gravitated to it, Dash approached the picture and studied it for a few moments. All the memories came back in a vivid rush. Sapphire constantly keeping the team up at night with talk of pillow fights. Bickering with Solomon over car culture. Making bets with Auburn with absurd stipulations. Meeting different teams from all schools for the tournament. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes before a deep breath recomposed him. This was definitely the last place he could have his public persona crack, something that he took great effort in maintaining. 

"I hope they're all ok," he thought to himself. He turned back around and leaned against the wall next to the painting, and moving his sport coat sleeve out of the way, he checked his watch again. "Almost done." Blankly staring forward, Dash sighed as he expected his boredom to resume throughout the night. That was, until a female voice loudly called out from the balcony above him, one that he couldn't see the source of but instantly recognized. 

"Tone Ospreay." 

Everyone's discussions were quickly stopped and replaced by hushed murmurs of confusion. Their attention was drawn to above Dash to someone on the balcony. He sprinted out from under it and his eyes widened in shock at seeing Sienna Umberon. However, she looked far removed from her days at Beacon where her team and Dash's would regularly hang out. Now, her usual outfit was traded for a White Fang uniform, and her heterochromatic eyes hidden behind a personalized mask. 

"Faunus labor, child labor, frequent factory explosions, the list goes on. Quite the rap sheet. One that could almost rival your master's," Sienna said. 

"What is the meaning of this?! I don't care how you got in but I'll have every force in Atlas come to throw you out!" Dash could hear his father yell back, while he was still too stunned to react. 

"Oooooh Schnee's lapdog thinks he's got a bite," Sienna said with a chuckle. "Don't bother with that. You're gonna listen to what I have to say." Dash snapped his head back around to see his father still adamantly stubborn. A sudden shatter of glass pierced the scene and made way for the sound of something metal clanging across the ground. Dash surveyed the middle of the ballroom floor and caught glimpse of a cylindrical object rolling to a stop. "Stun grenade!"

"Whether you want to or not." 

A bright flash. A deafening bang. It was enough in itself to cause Dash to stagger back. But something else - or someone - had also thrown him off his feet. By the time his senses had returned to him, he had realized a deer faunus with short brown hair and a similar mask was on his back, keeping his head forced to the floor. From what he could see, a whole White Fang squadron had invaded the party, all armed to the teeth. Each one of his family members was held back by a Fang member, and Dash could feel anger swell up at seeing a muscular soldier with ram horns with his arms around Dawn. Sienna sauntered down the stairs and headed towards Tone. 

"Thousands of faunus go into your factories with the hope of making enough to feed their families. They desperately try to survive through godawful working conditions just to get paid like dirt. And if they actually manage to stay alive, there's a good chance they'll get laid off anyways." She was now in Tone's face, with the White Fang soldier behind him forcing the owner of Ospreay Industries to look up at her. 

"I've seen firsthand just how flashy your family is," she continued, side-eyeing Dash with that comment. "And the fact that you act so flashy without even a hint of guilt is a fucking kick in the teeth to faunus everywhere." Her speech was now through gritted teeth, years of anger and frustration finally culminating. Stepping back to scan the area, she saw everyone paralyzed with fear, unable to do anything against the surrounding fleet of troops. 

"You're all guilty here!" Sienna said to address the whole room now. "You've all helped create this Atlas empire that has made it a crime for a faunus to even exist! No money for bills. No way to raise a family. No escape." She clenched her fists and turned her back to everyone. 

"Well, Ospreay. If I'm not allowed to have a family, you're not either. Tear this place to the ground!" 

The girl on Dash's back yanked his head up by his hair, forcing him to watch as the White Fang squad began dismantling the party. They vandalized anything in sight, and would not stop until everything the Ospreay family owned in this household was ruined. Dash watched as Sienna made her exit through the two grand doors that led to the rest of the house. The ram faunus followed suit, still with a tight grip on Dawn, taking her with him despite her cries for help. 

"Dawn!" Dash yelled. The deer faunus jerked him up to his feet and slammed him into the wall, keeping him firmly pressed against it. 

"Not prepared for this one, were you Richie Rich?" she said in Dash's ear. 

"I'm always prepared," Dash replied. Without a moment's hesitation, he moved his leg free and kicked his captor in the back of the knee. She groaned and reeled back, loosening her grip on Dash enough for him to spin around and catch her in the temple with a jumping knee strike that knocked her out on impact. All of the other soldiers turned their attention to him, and he quickly ran toward the direction that Sienna left in. He slammed the doors to the ballroom shut behind him, then toppled over the shelf next to it to serve as a barricade. 

He sprinted through the Ospreay estate as fast as his dress shoes would allow him, following the trail of carnage Sienna was causing. Along the way, he ditched his sport coat and his tie. He only had one thing in mind: getting his sister safe. And he knew he would have to fight for it. He eventually made his way to the garage, where he saw Sienna and the ram destroying the red sports car parked in it. 

"I knew you were a wasteland punk, Umberon. But I didn't think you'd stoop this low," Dash said to reveal himself. Sienna's fox ears twitched at the sound of his voice. Dawn smiled brightly at the sight of her big brother, but the smile was abruptly cut off at the sound of Sienna laughing. 

"Y'know. I really should thank you. The way you treated people was one of the main reasons I decided to join the Fang. I can finally repay you for all the disrespect you've shown me," Sienna said, all the while approaching Dash slowly until they were face to face. 

"I'm honored," Dash coldly said back and barely finished that statement before aiming a right kick to her head. Sienna immediately caught his foot and whipped him into a dragon screw takedown. Dash landed hard on his back, temporarily winded, allowing Sienna to put her boot on his chest. 

"The Fang has made me stronger, Dash. Faster, too. Better than training at Beacon had ever made me," she said before driving her heel down on his sternum. 

"You think I've been slouching around?" Dash roughly said back before he suddenly swiped at Sienna's other foot, tripping her up enough to kip back up to his feet. He went for another kick, this one similar to the first but coming from his left foot this time. Sienna caught him again, but this time Dash followed up by leaping up and driving his right foot into her ribs in a modified dropkick. Now she was the one flat on her back. 

The ram faunus charged at Dash, and Sienna moved back to grab Dawn and tie her down before she could escape. Dash sidestepped him and stayed close, firing off a flurry of kicks. But, they had little effect on the monstrous soldier, as his physique dwarfed Dash's athletic 5'10 frame. The ram picked Dash up with ease and slammed him onto the hood of the car with enough force to crumple the hood and break the windshield. He rolled off of the car to avoid another incoming blow, then before the brute could get to him again, he swung open the passenger side door, hitting him and keeping him back momentarily. 

"C'mon big bro! You can do it!" Dawn said to cheer on her brother. But, the ram faunus closed in on him again and lifted him by the collar of his now disheveled dress shirt. He threw Dash into the electrical box on the wall, denting its cover. It creaked open, so the ram repeated the process, this time sending Dash into breakers underneath, causing sparks to fly. The ram smirked at his handiwork until he noticed that Dash was unfazed. What he didn't know was that Dash's semblance was kicking in - conductivity. 

He lurched forward again, and Dash responded by grabbing him by the throat. All of the voltage that was going through Dash's body was suddenly going into his as if Dash was a human lightning rod. Upon letting go, the ram staggered back, gasping for air. While he was struggling to regain his breath, Dash nailed him with a kick to the midsection, finally dropping the behemoth to one knee. He then stepped back, jumped above him, and drove his head into the ground with a vicious curb stomp. 

With the goon now rendered unconscious, Dash turned his focus to Sienna. She looked up at him, looking less than pleased, flicking her fire dust infused claws to make a spark. The spark ignited and she got into a ready stance with her claws now ablaze, putting her own semblance of fire manipulation to use. Bolting to her, Dash aimed a baseball slide to her ankles. Sienna telegraphed his move and jumped over it. Dash rolled back to his feet and ducked his head to miss a right hook from Sienna, then a left. 

He rolled under the next punch to get behind her, but Sienna was a step ahead and turned around quicker than Dash could react. She wrapped him up in a bear hug, the fiery gloves searing his chest. Dash screamed loudly, the agony in his voice too much for Dawn to handle as she cringed and tried to look away. He eventually mustered up the strength to flip Sienna over his shoulders and get her off, but the damage had already been done. Dropping to one knee, he glanced down at his singed chest through the remnants of his burned shirt. A red sheen glowed across the length of his body. His aura was depleted. 

He weakly got back to his feet as Sienna walked toward him again, looking to end the fight. But, with a roaring battle cry and a last burst of adrenaline, he charged his assailant again. He hit her with a series of punches and kicks, each one doing more visible damage than the last. Finishing the combo off with a heel kick to her chin, he was finally able to ground Sienna. But, he wasn't able to revel in the moment for long, because a sharp cry of "Dash help!" from his sister swiftly spun him around. Two White Fang marked aircrafts had landed in the front yard, one of which had unloaded two soldiers that were taking Dawn away.

"Dawn, no!" He took half a step forward then suddenly stopped in his tracks. His eyes widened before looking down. Shakily moving his hand to his stomach, he could barely fight the tremors to see his hand now holding a crimson pool. 

It hurt to stand. 

It hurt to breathe. 

He collapsed to the floor. He still couldn't process what was happening. The adrenaline was long gone at this point. His usually electric yellow eyes expressed anguish as they looked up to see Sienna looking at her blood stained claw. Dawn's pleas filled the air one last time before being silenced by the distinct sound of a jet taking off. The ram faunus had now regained consciousness and joined his squad leader. 

"What do we do with him, boss?" he asked Sienna. 

"What's our one rule?" she said in response. 

"No deaths." 

"Then he comes with us. And he does not die. I’m not finished with him," she said. The last thing Dash saw was the ram leaning down next to him before everything faded to black.

[garetthawke]

I dunno how this ask thing works, but here I go... Grimmons prompt: Simmons does something cool and/or heroic (bonus if it's got to do with him being a cyborg), Grif is super smitten and in awe.

I don’t hear Simmons scream my name. I know he does because I register his mouth falling open and his face twisting in horror, but my focus is more on the entire slab of metal that seems to moving in slow motion over me, my surroundings blurring out of focus and my body refusing to respond.

Then all of a sudden the slow-mo ceases and everything happens so fast, I don’t even see it. All I know is that I’m on the ground, expecting to be crushed, except I’m not. The giant fucking piece of metal that dislodged itself from our makeshift wall is hovering above me, somehow.

And that “somehow” is one Richard Simmons, who fucking managed to not only dash in between me and the wall in time to protect me, but is, with one hand, holding the entire thing up.

I cannot resist gaping. The robotic hand is spitting a few sparks and making some worrying noises, but is otherwise holding up. Rather fucking impressively.

And it's at this point I notice where Simmons’ heroic move has placed him. He is directly between me and the wall, using what appears to be every bit of his strength to keep the thing up, and practically face to face with me, body literally lying on top of mine.

I can feel his heaving chest against mine with every huffing breath he takes, and I can see every freckle on his exertion-flushed face. His eyes are greenish brown, I notice for the first time, and they look very intent as his face scrunches up in concentration. Simmons manages to shove the wall up a fraction, and lifts himself an inch off me.

The removal of weight should feel a lot better, but for some godforsaken reason I kind of wish Simmons hadn’t moved. Simmons continues to shove upwards, slowly but surely getting to a standing position as he shoves the slab backwards so it can land the other direction with a heavy, resounding “whump!”

I can feel my eyes drying as I stare the whole way, but I don’t dare fucking blink.

“I...fucking...told you...” Simmons wheezes out, now bent in half, hands on his knees as he tries to regulate his breathing.

I have to shake myself from whatever trance I was fucking in to process what he says. Shock, I tell myself. I was in shock.

“Who fucking cares dude?!” I exclaim. “You just lifted like a million pound wall with one arm!” I probably sound like a child seeing a superhero on TV for the first time.

Simmons is still red from all that effort, but I’d bet money he blushes again from the way he starts stuttering.

“It’s-it’s not like it was me!” he denies. “It’s Sarge’s robot arm! It’s not like I could do something like that normally!”

“Okay, a.” I respond indignantly, “that literally does not make it any less fucking cool, and b. Sarge’s robot arm didn’t fling itself between me and falling debris. You did.”

Simmons looks at me wide-eyed, like he was completely thrown by what I just said. “Oh.” is all he manages.

“Whatever.” I say, already uncomfortable. “Go be weirdly humble somewhere else, I wanna smoke in peace because I almost just fucking died and I don’t need you nagging me about it.”

Simmons, uncharacteristically wordless, stumbles from the room like he’s in a stupor.

And that would have been that, if it had fucking ended there. It didn’t.

I swear to god, if I had known I would wake up that night in a sweat after dreaming about Simmons fucking bench pressing me, I would have let the wall just crush me. Why.

It didn’t get much better after that. Not only was I having weird ass dreams littered through my naps, I was having my precious daydream-while-doing-nothing time invaded too. By fucking Dick “Superhuman Strength” Simmons.

I mean who does the guy fucking think he is, going around lifting things all of a sudden like it’s nothing, looking like Clark fucking Kent while he swoops to my rescue. Rude fucking asshole.

I snort to myself over my own Clark Kent analogy, because Simmons actually does wear glasses and looks like a major fucking nerd. Then I frown, realizing it makes me the Lois Lane in this scenario. Then who would Lex Luthor be?

Sarge. Definitely Sarge.

I’m manly laughing to myself, not giggling or anything, over the idea of Doc as Batman, and Donut as Robin fussing over the color of his tights, when Simmons comes in the room.

“Ha!” he shouts. “I can hear you laughing! You can’t pretend like you’re sleeping and can’t hear me!”

I’m still chuckling. “Whatever, Clark Kent.” I snort.

“Clark Ken - Superman? Is that why you’ve been acting weird around me lately? Are you still hung up on my robot strength?!” Simmons asks, like he’s just discovered something.

“Uh, what?” I answer, like I don’t know what he’s been talking about. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Simmons’ face does that thing it does when he’s irritated with me (so pretty much all the time,) and it looks like a cross between “angry” and “sucking on a lemon.”

“Dexter Grif,” and oh no, that his boring-ass lecture voice. “You know good and well you’ve been avoiding me for days, making up bizarre excuses so we don’t have to be in the same room, pretending like you’re sleeping until I leave, and then staring at me incessantly when we actually have to be in the same place at the same time.”

Simmons takes a breath, and then his tone takes on a note of insecurity I really don't like as he stares down at his prosthetic hand.

“Does it actually bother you that much now?”

My mouth dries and my instincts push me to correct him and stop that pathetic kicked-puppy sound from coming from his mouth ever again, before I can process what I’m saying at all:

“No! Dude! It’s because I fucking love it!”

Simmons does a completely visible double take, and I would have probably laughed if I wasn’t just realizing I had put myself in a really uncomfortable position.

“..what do you mean?” Simmons asks, suspiciously.

This is precarious territory, I tell myself. On one hand, I might be able to bullshit my way out of what I just said, but downside, then Simmons would sound like that again; or I could just go with it since I had already incriminated myself.

My foot scuffs the ground as I kick it back and forth, considering my options.

“Ok,” I finally allow, “It was kind of...hot, alright?”

Simmons still looks like he’s not buying it and I groan in exasperation.

“Look, I’m having fucking fantasies about you being all macho-strong and heroic, manhandling me and shit, being all noble. It’s annoying as hell and your fucking fault so I’m pissed at you and don’t want to be in the same room. Are you happy now?!”

Simmons looks like I pulled a few wires from the mess of them in the back of his head. One of his eyes is even twitching. And then all of a sudden, it’s like a switch is flipped in him. Literally, as it would be for a cyborg like him.

He charges from his rooted spot on the floor, and I immediately start reversing towards the wall when it’s clear he’s not stopping on his way to me. He crowds up in my space as my back hits solid rock, and his robotic hand slams beside my head. I force a gulp past the sudden lump in my throat.

“Like this?” he whispers, and jesus christ when the fuck did that asshole get smooth?! That’s not fucking fair.

I don’t feel my mouth fall open, but Simmons apparently notices because he takes advantage of it and suddenly he kissing me. Richard Simmons is kissing me. While he’s got me pinned to a wall - fucking hell. I throw myself into the kiss too, abruptly very into the idea.

His tongue isn’t shy in the slightest, and it makes its way around my mouth, as his lips move against mine. The heat of his breath is mixing with mine and making a visible cloud in the slightly chilly room. I nip back at his lower lip when one of his teeth catches mine, and he makes a really nice, appreciative groaning noise.

Simmons pulls back way before I’m ready for him to, but I don’t give him shit because I know he’s had breathing problems ever since I stole one of his lungs.

His face is burning up, and any confidence he had just displayed is apparently long evaporated, a much more familiar sheepish expression making itself at home on him.

“I-I don’t know why I did that.” He stammers.

I gasp out a short laugh. “Dude, who fucking cares?” I pull him back to me, arm behind his back. “Just do it the fuck again.”

[plusultra-anime]

The Cat Dragged In

A Destiel minific (or at least, it was supposed to be mini but it ran away with me a little). This is going to be posted up on AO3 just as soon as I can get an account, but for now, here’s the first chapter (1/3). (Feedback welcome/reblogs appreciated)

Supernatural Pairing: Dean x Cas / Destiel  Based off (but not really sticking to) a prompt from @dailyau / @ashesinyourhair: “How the hell does your cat keep getting into my house AU” Word count: 3.2k ... ish  Warnings: a bit of swearing

The Cat Dragged In

 “—Jee-heesus! … Fuck.”

A black cat with eyes as green as a summer forest was sitting on the counter. Dean’s counter. The counter in Dean’s until-now-cat-free apartment. Dean pressed a hand to his chest and took a few steadying breaths. God, he hadn’t been expecting to see a cat when he turned the corner into the kitchen.

“Who the hell are you?” he muttered, approaching the counter slowly, reaching out a hand. The cat sniffed his fingers then pressed its cheek against his palm. He rubbed its fur. It was purring, a loud rumble, and it gave a harsh “myao” when he stopped.

“I don’t wanna be friends, dude,” Dean mumbled. He lifted up the tag on its collar so the writing would catch the light. 2B, it read, and following that was the name and address of Dean’s apartment building.

“Hm.” So it came from the apartment directly above. Weird. Dean had never heard anyone moving about up there so he had kind of assumed it was empty.

The cat stretched out, wriggling its toes and letting out a big yawn that showed needle teeth. It sprang down onto the floor, its claws making a soft click on the floor tiles as it landed, and started to rub itself on Dean’s leg.

“Mmmrraow!”

“You’re cute too buddy, but I gotta get you home before your owner starts worrying about you.”

And fuck knows how you got in here, he thought, tapping the countertop. Gotta have that damn widow lock checked.

Dean slid a hand under the cat’s belly and started to lift it, tucking his other hand under its butt to hold it against his chest. It was purring again, and the warm vibration was soothing. Dean kissed the top of its head and made a few soothing clicks with his tongue.

“Ok, buddy, let’s get you home.”

Dean tapped the door shut with his foot on the way out and climbed the stairs, muttering to the cat about how breaking into people’s apartments was wrong and how maybe he should get a dog to protect his home from invading felines. The cat replied in curt meows while sticking claws into Dean’s chest.

The hallway of floor 2 was a little dimmer than floor 1, with only one light in the stairwell and one at the far end of the hall. 2B was, of course, the second door down.

Dean shifted the cat’s weight so he could wriggle a hand free. He gave three sharp knocks and took a step back, casting a glance behind him and down the hall.

The lock clicked; the door of apartment 2B opened just a crack, and then a bit more.

“Lucifer!” A deep voice that reached right down to Dean’s toes and all the way back up again.

The guy looked a little scruffy, with dark messy hair and a blue tie that wasn’t quite tied properly. His shirt was wrinkled and his chin was dark with stubble. There was a little fleck of dried toothpaste on the corner of his mouth, and dark bags under eyes that shone sapphire. He had squinted at Dean, until he saw the cat. Then his whole body had softened and without another word he scooped Lucifer up from the crook of Dean’s arm.

“Found the little guy making himself at home in my kitchen,” Dean explained, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry if you were inconvenienced.” 2B shifted his eyes to Dean’s face.

“I mean, if anything it showed me there’s a fault in my home security somewhere, so really I should be thanking … Lucifer.” He tried not to smile around the name as it came out of his mouth. “Is he named after Lucifer in that, uh … the Disney one?”

“No, he’s named after the devil,” 2B replied, deadpan. Dean couldn’t tell if he was joking. He tried a friendly smile.

“He’s that bad, huh?”

2B chuckled and gave Lucifer an affectionate scratch under the chin. “He can get up to mischief sometimes, that’s for sure.”

“No kidding. Well I’ll see you around, 2B. If he goes missing again, I’m right under you so, y’know. Feel free to knock.” 

***

The sun was just starting to rise, colouring everything that hazy grey-blue, when Dean next saw the guy from 2B. He was struggling with an armful of books, trying to open the front door but unable to manoeuver his hand into a position that would enable him to put the key in the lock. Dean, exhausted from too long a shift at the Red Rose, steeled himself for a social interaction that he really didn’t have the energy for, and jogged the last few paces to the door.

“I got it, don’t hurt yourself.”

“Thank you.”

Dean took out his key and unlocked the door, stepping through so he could hold it open.

“Could-?” 2B stopped himself, as Dean closed the door and started towards his apartment. He turned and gave 2B a questioning look.

“Could you open my apartment for me?” 2B finished, glancing away from Dean’s weary gaze. Dean let his eyes drop to the pile of books then looked at 2B’s face. He tried not to smile at his bashful expression.

“Yeah, no problem.”

They began to climb the stairs side by side. Dean’s legs ached from a long night of being on his feet and he yearned to crawl into bed and go out like a light, but he would feel terrible if he’d left 2B to struggle with that ridiculous pile of books.

When they reached the apartment, Dean took the key that was dangling from 2B’s hand and unlocked the door. He pushed it open and stepped aside so that 2B could enter, then leaned a hand against the doorframe.

“You gonna manage from here?” he asked, only half-joking.  

2B placed the books on an end table with care then exhaled heavily. “Yeah, thanks.”

Suddenly Dean could hear cats – multiple cats – meowing loudly from the depths of the apartment.

2B called out, “Yes, Papa’s home!” There was the clicking of claws on wood, and Dean peered round into the apartment to see three cats pouring into the front room. A small, confident tortoiseshell took the lead, followed by a fluffy white cloud of a cat – who eyed Dean warily – and black, sleek Lucifer padded along lazily behind them.

“You have three cats?” Dean raised his eyebrows.

“Seven,” 2B replied in a matter-of-fact tone. He bent down to pet the tortoiseshell, who was rubbing itself against his legs. “But some of them come and go as they please.”

Well that might explain how Lucifer got down to my apartment, thought Dean, although he still hadn’t found any place it could have got in.

2B straightened up and turned back to Dean. “Thank you for your help,” he said in that deep, flat voice. Dean took this as a dismissal. He nodded and patted the doorframe once.

“No problem. See you around 2B.”

2B chuckled. He watched his tall, tired-looking neighbour move down the hall a little before he closed the door with a gentle click. Lucifer was sitting at his feet, gazing at him intently. With a smile, 2B picked him up and looked him in the eyes.

***

“Papa’s home.” A door closes with a thud and there are cats meowing in the next room. Dean hears the clink of keys being thrown onto an end table and heavy, tired footsteps. He stands and the room focuses. A man is walking towards him, dishevelled dark hair, bright blue eyes and a wrinkled shirt. Dean smiles, he can feel warmth radiating towards him. The man smiles back, his nose crinkling at the top, and he stops a foot away from Dean. Dean feels a cat rubbing against his leg. The man is even closer now. A cat meows.

It meows but there’s something wrong with how it sounds. It’s nearer than it should be. Dean’s breath quickens. There’s something wrong, it’s not here it’s …

Real.

Dean jolted awake with a start, his breath coming sharp. The sun had set since he’d rested his head on the desk – just for a minute – and a quick glance at the clock on his computer told him he’d been asleep for a little under two hours.

Fuck.

He sat up and stretched out his arms. He rubbed his sore neck. Then he noticed Lucifer.

The cat paused in licking its legs to honour Dean with a glance. “Myao,” it said, before going back to its wash. Dean let out a heavy sigh that turned into a groan part way through.

“Come on, man, not today.” He rose and went to pick up Lucifer, who started purring against his chest.  On the way to the door, Dean picked up and pocketed his keys, grabbed his phone and double-checked the time. Hopefully he wouldn’t be late to his shift.

Dean half-ran up the stairs, cradling the cat as gently as he could, and rapped loudly on the door of apartment 2B.  

No answer. He waited a few more seconds and knocked again. Still no answer.

Must be out. Dean licked his lips. He hesitated. No, he would be late for work. He turned back to the stairwell and made his way back to his apartment, where he left Lucifer under strict instructions to behave, before rushing out and locking the door behind him.

It was almost five in the morning when he got back. He’d got a cute girl’s phone number and raked in some good tips this shift, so it was in good spirits that he walked the few blocks back to the apartment building.

As soon as he was home, Dean made himself a coffee. He told himself he was only going to work on his essay an hour before going to bed. He sat down in front of his computer and woke it up. As he worked, the sun began to rise, breaking the sky into hues of pink and gold.

There was a soft knock at the front door. Dean glanced up from the screen and frowned, not entirely sure whether he’d actually heard something. But then there was a second knock. He stood and stretched.

When he opened the front door, he was surprised to see 2B, looking sleepy in his wrinkled shirt and crooked tie.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” 2B started, “But I just got home and Lucifer wasn’t th-”

He stopped short as a loud “mrao” came from the bedroom. Dean winced as he realised he’d forgotten about the cat.

“Yeah, he’s here,” said Dean, his gaze flicking to 2B’s lips which were parted slightly, then up to his eyes which were bright despite the guy’s obvious fatigue. “He showed up right before I left for work but you weren’t in so I left him here, then … uh, forgot about him.”

2B gave a quiet laugh, his teeth showing and his nose crinkling. Dean felt himself chuckling too.

“Oh, he’s not going to be happy,” 2B said with a smile, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Do you want to come in? I was just gonna make some more coffee.”

“Thank you, I think I could use some caffeine.”

Dean stepped aside to let him in. 2B looked around the room carefully, as though taking note of everything.

“Make yourself at home,” Dean told him. He went over to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and yawned widely and comfortably. Only three hours until he’d have to leave for class. He should have slept, he knew, but hey, at least the essay was almost finished.  

“Hey 2B, do you take cream and sugar in your coffee?” he asked, looking over his shoulder. 2B was sitting on the couch with Lucifer, who had appeared from wherever he’d been hiding. At Dean’s question, though, 2B stood, eliciting a “myao” from the cat.

“Yes, please,” 2B replied, walking over to the counter that separated the kitchen from the front room. He had undone a few buttons of his shirt and loosened his tie a little more, so it hung slightly more to the left. The bit of skin at the base of his throat, Dean noticed, was flushed, and there was a little colour in his cheeks too. Dean’s heart started to pound.

“It’s Castiel, by the way,” 2B continued. Dean furrowed his brow in confusion.

“What is?”

2B laughed. “My name. You keep calling me 2B. I’m Castiel.”

Dean felt a blush creep over his face and ears. God I need this coffee. “Oh. Castiel, huh? That’s a pretty unusual name.” He busied himself with making the coffee so Castiel couldn’t see him blushing at his own stupidity. It took him a full five seconds to remember in which drawer he kept the spoons. “I’m Dean, Dean Winchester. Which actually sounds boring next to Castiel.”

He liked the way the word felt rolling out of his mouth. Castiel.

“My family is … a little strange.” Castiel gave a dry smile, and a shrug. Dean slid his coffee towards him over the counter and wrapped a hand around his own mug.

“I kind of assumed you just came from a family of cats,” Dean teased. Castiel’s eyes narrowed.

 They sat side by side on the couch, Dean cradling his coffee, and Castiel petting Lucifer, having placed his coffee carefully on the low table in front of them.

Watching Castiel’s hand moving over Lucifer’s smooth fur over and over, Dean felt a nagging sense of déjà vu. His pulse quickened a little. Lucifer was gazing at him intently.

Castiel shifted abruptly to reach for his coffee, and the spell was broken. With his thudding heart and a twang of adrenaline in his stomach, suddenly Dean was thinking of the box of cigarettes hidden in his dresser. It was rare for him to have a craving for a smoke, but there it was. And it had been a long night.

He cleared his throat. “Do you mind if I smoke? I wouldn’t usually but …”

“Long night?” Castiel offered him an understanding smile, his eyes sparkling, as he sipped his coffee. He waved his hand, which Dean took to mean he didn’t mind.

The cigarettes were in the bottom drawer where he kept his dress shoes, a gun and a beaten-up scrapbook. He kept them in there because he hardly ever went in there – out of sight out of mind, after all, and for the most part it worked. He took a single cigarette from the packet, as well as the lighter that was stowed beside it. He stifled another yawn as he made his way to the window in the front room.

Dean pushed the window open a bit then moved the latch, which allowed him to prop it open wider. He leaned out a little and brought the lighter to the cigarette, brought the cigarette to his lips.

Click. Whshh. He inhaled and took the smoke back, deeply.

 Castiel let his eyes focus on Dean’s mouth. A stream of smoke was pouring out, out of his mouth and out the window. Dean’s lips looked dry, and they wrinkled as he pulled on the cigarette again, blew out another lungful of smoke. His eyes fluttered shut, his long eyelashes resting on flushed cheeks. There was so much detail in his face Castiel could hardly bear it. Or perhaps it was just that Castiel was tired enough to notice too much detail. Either way, he couldn’t tear his eyes from Dean’s face.

His eyes opened again, burning moss green. He was turning his face to look out over the road to the stretch of park beyond. Castiel could hear a dog barking.

The early sunlight gave Dean’s face and jaw a soft, golden glow. The front of his grey t-shirt was slightly damp with sweat in places, and the plaid shirt he wore over it was rolled up to the elbows, exposing sturdy, tanned arms. One of his hands rested on the window sill and the other held the cigarette just an inch from his lips. The fabric of his shirt rippled ever so slightly in the breeze, which was bringing in the scent of Dean’s cigarette. One of his bare feet was scratching the calf of his other leg. And Castiel’s stomach was full of butterflies, as it had been ever since Dean had brought Lucifer home the first time.

“Y’know, Cas,” Dean started, turning his head to look at Castiel, “Not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that, I got laid.” A smirk danced over his lips. Castiel’s stomach flipped and he glanced away, unsure whether Dean was joking or not.

 Dean blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth towards the open window and chuckled to himself. Castiel was blushing, which really hadn’t been the intended effect of his joke. But dammit, it was cute. Having taken a last, long drag, Dean held the smoke in and flicked the spent cigarette out of the window into the road. He exhaled slowly, then closed the window up. He returned to the couch and picked up his coffee cup, draining it completely.

“Anyway,” said Dean, keen to change the subject to abate the tension. “Why did you have all those books?”

Castiel looked up from his cup, his eyebrows pulled down, lips slightly apart.

“For … reading,” he answered carefully.

“For reading,” Dean repeated, “Like reading for pleasure?”

“Yes.” Castiel took a mouthful of his coffee.

“But you had, what, twenty books?”

“Uh, eleven. But yes, I’m working my way through the theology and mythology sections of the university library.”

Dean straightened up. “You go to the university?” How have we never crossed paths before? he thought. He was sure he would have noticed eyes that blue and a smile that bright if he’d seen it on campus.

“Well, I work in the library, night shifts.” He gestured to the coffee and raised his eyebrows at Dean. “But I’m hoping to start my Master’s this fall.”

Dean whistled low; he was impressed. “And here sit I, a lowly undergrad.” Castiel chuckled at this.

Lucifer stretched and gave a few low, grumbly remarks, as if to remind them he was there. Draining the last of his coffee, Castiel stood.

“Lucifer’s right, the cats need their breakfast. Thank you for the coffee.”

Dean rose too, and held out a hand for Castiel to shake. “It was a pleasure.”

Castiel’s hand was soft but his grip firm. There was a little roughness to his palm, and the sensation reached right down to Dean’s toes and back again. His breath was caught in his throat and he couldn’t look away from Castiel’s intense blue eyes. They drilled though him in a way that made Dean think Castiel could tell exactly what he was thinking.

Their hands parted, their fingers brushing against each other. Dean tried a smile, and though it felt forced, Castiel smiled back. Dean exhaled. Lucifer meowed.