#you’re giving visitors dangerously low expectations of the space they are about to encounter

[psqqa]

this was the sign btw

the chapel of princes marks the first time on this trip i’ve walked into a space and said “holy fuck” out loud

like i cannot overstate just how unprepared i was to walk into this place

[cinnonym]

The Dark One’s Choice

As announced, I finally polished (and finished) my Dark One smut fic, sooo if you’re one of @swanqueensalad‘s horny followers (aren’t we all) or otherwise inclined to read the closest thing to smut I’ve ever written, here goes:

~5k

rating: m

mildly dubious consent, sub/dom hints, choking, restraints, power play, angst, canon-compliant

don’t like don’t read ^^

The great grandfather clock in the hallway shows half past 1 at night when Regina passes it, finally on her way to bed after a long day. Her thoughts have kept her alert until now, the risk of Emma, now as the Dark One, turning up at her doorstep to demand to have Henry too high to let her relax properly. And then there is the gaping hole in her memories, a condition she's familiar with but which still annoys her in no small measure. One moment the gates of Camelot swing open for her, the dagger pressing to her side in the warm promise of Emma's trust, then the next second she's flat on the floor of Granny's Diner, faced with Emma in full Dark One apparel, mercilessly glaring down at her. Accusing and dangerous and assuring to punish them all, though her cold eyes were on Regina only, sending a shiver down her spine that consisted of trepidation and arousal in equal measures.

Regina shudders just remembering the low purr of the Dark One's voice, the radiated dominance so different from the kind of nervous excitement that usually accompanies Emma's talks with Regina. Different, yes, but not necessarily worse, Regina thinks, the naughty admission painting an unexpected smirk on her lips, and she permits a silent chuckle before calling herself back to order. She mustn't enjoy nor underestimate the saviour's dark side. Quite the contrary, to save Emma from herself, and the rest of town from Emma, it is crucial that Regina stays alert and focuses on figuring out a way to get rid of darkness once and for all. So, no unnecessary risks. Constant vigilance.

Right on cue, the doorbell rings and startles Regina back into reality. She throws a glance at the clock. 1:40, not exactly a reasonable time for visitors, even in this tense situation. Besides, Snow, or David, and even the pirate, would have rather called to talk than walked through nightly Storybrooke with a new Dark One on the loose. No, Regina decides, it has to be Emma herself who's on her porch, now pressing the bell again.

Regina swears under her breath; if she doesn't put an end to this, Emma will wake up Henry. On the other hand, opening the door would violate the very set of rules she has just established. There's just no easy way out of this.

Emma ends up making the decision for her when suddenly greyish smoke forms right in front of Regina, vanishing to reveal the familiar frame of the saviour. Her lips set in a thin straight line, the green eyes as expressionless as earlier, she stands and looks at Regina. Just takes her in. Regina feels her skin starting to tingle when a flash of hunger crosses Emma's features, and she's suddenly all too aware of the red velvet dress she's still wearing, clinging to her curves.

"What are you doing here?" She asks when Emma still hasn't moved to talk after several seconds. Her voice is calm, only the slightest hitch in her throat betraying her racing heart. Emma is close, far too close, the aura of power that surrounds her enclosing Regina as well. She's always had a weakness for great wizardry she supposes, the mixture of envy and admiration an exhilarating drug running through her veins, and she welcomes it like an old friend.

"After weeks of sleeping wall to wall with my parents," Emma finally answers, her tone as cool and indifferent as if she were talking about the weather, "I now have the opportunity to take what I want." And she steps even closer, now bare inches separating their bodies.

A sudden fright befalls Regina, her heart fluttering weakly in her chest, colibri-like. She almost doesn't dare to ask for clarification. What if Emma has changed her mind somewhere along the way, realizing that sacrificing herself for Regina has been a mistake after all? What if she's here to make Regina pay for that mistake? What if this is revenge?

"Which is what?" Regina still whispers, hoping against all odds for a, what, fourth chance by now? But no such luck this time; Emma's eyes harden and she raises her chin. Her voice is but a whisper, her lips carefully forming the word:

"You."

Regina closes her eyes for just a second, absorbing the impact without allowing Emma to witness the emotions flickering through her mind. A second is all Emma should need to finish matters once and for all, but it passes without either of them moving and when Regina glances up at Emma again she's surprised to find a tiny glint of amusement in the depths of her eyes. And then that glint changes, grows darker, twisted, and funnily enough, heated, burning with an intensity that makes Regina automatically lower her gaze.

A throaty chuckle vibrates through Emma's body. She waves her hand, and the next thing Regina feels is the cool tapestry of the wall against her back and Emma's grip tight around her wrists, pinning her down. A hot breath tickles her earlobe when the blonde leans forward in the same movement, teeth grazing Regina's skin.

"Control is mine now. Is that understood?" Emma whispers huskily, fleetingly biting down on the sensitive flesh right under Regina's ear.

Regina can barely stifle a moan and she feels her knees grow weak. It would be so easy to give in, the fulfilling of late night dreams and poorly repressed fantasies right in front of her - but she can't. This, what's happening, is the Dark One's choice, not Emma's. And while the darkness might be prevailing in Emma's mind right now, it doesn't mean Emma isn't still in there somewhere, fighting and protesting. And when she returns and the darkness is extinguished - an act Regina will accomplish and if it so takes years - Emma will have to face regrets enough. A nightly adventure with the Queen doesn't have to be among them.

So Regina summons her strengths, and resists. Pulling away from Emma's touch as much as possible in the confined space at her disposal, she shakes her head and squares her shoulders.

"I don't think so, no."

The rage wells up in Emma immediately, her hands clenching around Regina's wrists until it hurts but Regina neither flinches nor backs down. She can tell that Emma didn't expect defiance from the way her eyes widen a fracture before darkening to a near black.

"What?"

The whisper is deadly, a promise of pain if Regina were to repeat her words. Well, Regina can handle pain, if something greater is at stake. And so she raises her chin and holds Emma's glance, proudly and with all the indifference she doesn't really feel.

"I said no, I won't defer to you. Magic doesn't make you my leader and I refuse to - "

"I am the Dark One," Emma roars and Regina once again thinks of Henry asleep upstairs. She prays he won't wake up and choose to see what's causing the commotion, or she will lose some serious ground to Emma. Maybe playing up hasn't been the best plan after all, but she can't revise her strategy now.

"I see that," Regina consequently bites right back, hoping that if she only appears strong enough, Emma will step back eventually. "But it doesn't change the fact that I won't yield to you."

It's only when the expression in Emma's changes again, turning almost playful, that Regina realizes the mistake she's made by counting on Emma's rationality. Magic is based on emotions, and since the Dark One's powers are still relatively new to Emma, she is bound to act unpredictably. Well, this brings a whole new danger to this nightly encounter. Regina's suddenly glad that her provocation didn't fuel Emma's anger. In fact, Emma is eyeing her almost fondly, leisurely letting her eyes take in every tiny aspect of Regina's complexion. The scrutiny inadvertently brings the colour to Regina's cheeks and a smirk on Emma's face.

"You don't really mean that."

And then, without another word of warning, Emma surges forward again and captures Regina's lips with hers before the mayor can dodge her. A yelp of surprise escapes Regina. She tries to jerk back, except she can't, Emma has her trapped against the wall, pressing down on her with the full length of her body. A shudder passes through Regina upon that realization, making her skin tingle and setting her nerves aflame. Never would she have thought that Emma's touch could have such an effect on her. And the kiss, the saviour's lips moving on Regina's almost feverishly. They are dry and slightly chapped under the crimson lipstick and Regina finds herself sinking into them, answering Emma's harsh bites with tentative nibbles on her own part.

But no, she must not delight in this. She has to keep a clear head, because while she is kissing Emma's lips and inhaling Emma's perfume, she has to remember that it's not Emma's mind who's in control here. And so, although a long, leather-covered leg is slowly wedging itself between Regina's, making her feel all kinds of things, including a very dominant throbbing at her core, Regina uses a momentary distraction on Emma's part to push against the arms confining her and turn her head away.

"Stop," she says, intending to sound firm, but it comes out as a strangled moan instead. Miraculously, Emma still seems to have heard her, because she pulls back slightly to look at Regina. Her eyes are darker than Regina has ever seen them and for a moment she feels her resolve weaken, but she masterfully ignores the dryness in her throat and pushes against Emma's shoulders again.

"Let me go," she demands when Emma doesn't budge, instead watching her with the faintest annoyance in the tilt of her head. Regina pushes again, a petulant move rather than a well-considered one. She should have known better than to provoke the Dark One further, but her skin is burning, and she just needs Emma to back off before she'll commit a whole different folly. And who would have known it would be just this little extra push that makes Emma snap.

But it is and the angry flashing of familiar green eyes is all the warning Regina gets before a hand wraps around her throat, constricting her airways.

"Why do you keep resisting?" Emma growls, her voice inhuman, feral. "I can see how you want this," she wriggles her leg slightly and Regina gasps when it rubs against her hot centre. It takes all her self control not to thrust her hips forward to grind against the leather, and maybe the desperation shows a little in her eyes, because Emma smirks and applies more pressure on Regina's throat.

"So why don't you take it?" She hisses and curls her index finger, the sharp nail scratching against Regina's skin, "Take it."

Suppressing a whimper, Regina feels her body react, a new gush of wetness slowly trickling down the inside of her thighs. She has to put an end to this soon or so help her.

"This is not you talking," she brings out, varying somewhere between a moan and a gasp, the limited access to oxygen finally making her feel light headed and breathless. "The darkness has lowered your inhibitions."

Emma chuckles and brings up her other hand, drawing a slow trail down Regina's stomach. When she feels muscles tensing beneath her touch, she releases a delighted laugh. It's scary how fast her emotions seem to change.

"Oh but dear," she replies, almost conversationally now, her eyes twinkling with some wicked amusement, "that is exactly why it's me talking. The darkness is simply giving me the courage to do what I've been wanting to do for a very long time."

Regina's teeth clench at the easy, un-Emma-like admission, and of course the Dark One notices.

"You don't believe me?" She snarls, suddenly furious again, "Let me prove it."

And not giving Regina a chance to react, Emma's long slender fingers press against Regina's core, cupping her through the velvety fabric of her dress. A strangled moan escapes Regina but before her body can betray her by rolling against the tantalizing touch, she summons her magic and poofs out of Emma's grasp.

Mastering magic in an emotionally turmoiled state is difficult, but Regina has perfected the technique during her long years as the Evil Queen. She materializes on the exact spot she had in mind, several metres away from where Emma had held her, an armchair in front of her, which she grabs on to in need of support. Taking a deep breath and revelling in the feeling of the air streaming in her lungs freely again, she lifts her eyes, fully expecting to see Emma leaning against the wall still. The room is empty though, without a trace of the Dark One.

Regina furrows her brow. Would Emma just leave like that? And let Regina win? It seems highly unlikely, and yet the deserted scene she's presented with suggests it. Disappointment pulses through Regina, but before she can analyse and revoke the feeling, grey smoke envelopes her. It's only due to her marvellous reflexes that Regina manages to jerk away in order to avoid being trapped again when Emma makes her appearance. An infuriating smirk is playing on her lips, which, as Regina shamefully notices while consciously pursing her own mouth, are now devoid of crimson lipstick.

"Missed me?" Emma mouths, a knowing glint in her eyes that only intensifies when Regina attempts to scoff. "Don't forget that I know when you're lying."

This comment throws Regina off balance though she refuses to let it show. It reminds her of Emma, the real Emma, untainted with darkness yet not free of pain. Emma, who through the course of her life has learned to read people to protect herself from getting hurt. Emma, whose superpower may not be perfect, despite all efforts, but with Regina it always is. Emma, who knows her.

For a moment, Regina misses her so much, the loss feels like a sharp knife twisting in her gut. And a moment is all the Dark One needs to bridge the short distance between them and cradle Regina's face in her hands. The touch is almost gentle, Emma's thumbs tracing the line of Regina's cheekbones, and when Regina looks up, she's surprised to notice the tender expression in those green eyes.

"I am still Emma you know," Emma whispers, tugging at a strand of Regina's hair, then placing it delicately behind her ear. "Still me." And then, leaning in with a wicked grin spreading on her lips she adds: "Just look at my powers like an extra gift. Something to give matters some kick..."

Regina swallows, tantalizing images penetrating her mind, colliding and overlapping with those of Emma, the real Emma, with her jutting jaw and hideous leather jackets. She shakes her head to get rid of them, refusing to let the Dark One play with her emotions any longer. It's time the Queen regains some command. For Emma's sake.

"Embracing the darkness doesn't seem very Emma-like," she counters tentatively, testing the waters by also taking a step back. Dark eyes follow her, thin lips drop into a frown, but for now Emma lets her have the distance. She just shrugs.

"Didn't want to waste the potential."

Regina takes another small step back, sees Emma's eyes dart down to her legs, freezes - but still nothing happens. Good. The gap between their bodies allows Regina to gather her wits and think of how she'll handle the situation. Hitherto, it has been Emma who set the pace, hardly giving Regina time to react. This will have to change if the mayor wants to stand any chance against the Dark One. She needs a plan to distract Emma from trying to seduce her, distract her from Henry sleeping upstairs, distract her from using her magic against Regina. And what distraction could be better than a midnight snack?

"Are you hungry? Or did the darkness extinguish this trait too?" She asks as casually as she can muster.

Emma cocks her head, an amused smile flashing over her complexion. Her eyes darken.

"On the contrary. I'm almost insatiable these days."

Regina is sure her cheeks burn brightly pink but she ignores the feeling and clears her throat.

"I meant food."

"Oh, I know what you meant," Emma smirks, disappearing and reemerging a foot closer to Regina in the blink of an eye. The mist has not yet cleared away when she repeats the trick, now standing behind Regina. Their noses are almost touching. "I also know that I'm tired of this chitchat. Why don't you put that mouth to better use elsewhere?"

A groan escapes Regina when Emma's lips once again press against hers. Still she focuses and flicks her hand to escape the Dark One's grip, reappearing on the other side of the armchair. Emma follows her before she can even breathe, pins her down to the chair, effectively demobilising Regina's wrists with her knees.

"Two can play this game," she murmurs against Regina's ear, then sits up. "Your move."

Regina's whole body seems to buzz with nerves, her skin is aflame where Emma's touching her, still she forces herself to think. Emma's magic works faster than hers, but she's inexperienced. She might be more powerful but she lacks self-discipline. If Regina managed to lure her into poofing repeatedly, unnecessarily, maybe she could tire the Dark One while saving her own strength, until eventually she would have the upper hand again.

The heat pulsing through her body is put to good use as Regina channels the energy to her palms, letting them warm up to the point where, if she were to flick her hand, she could conjure a fireball. Then she twists them, reaching for Emma's thighs.

The Dark One jerks back for only a split second, but that is sufficient for Regina who's been awaiting it. She draws her hands free and sends a magic blow at Emma. Just like she predicted, the blonde is sent flying but disappears mid air and grey mist once again embraces Regina. However, she is prepared; jumping up from the chair she creates a shield around where Emma is materializing. A hiss escapes the Dark One, then she throws her head back and laughs, short and hard. Regina's eyes dart to the staircase, to Henry, but fortunately Emma doesn't seem to notice.

"You see, there are advantages to being the Dark One," her voice comes out of nowhere as she breaks free from her cage by poofing a ridiculous amount of seven times until she's facing Regina again. "I love this form of transport."

Regina only smiles tightly, hands already up again. This is her game now. She risks wasting some of her magical energy to create a soundproof spell in the living room, then makes a swooping gesture that hurls the armchair Emma's way. Instead of stopping it, like any sensible user of magic would have, the blonde turns into swirling smoke again, and then again when Regina lets the footrest follow, and even to avoid the decorative tablecloth. It's quite ridiculous really, she's bound to get tired in the matter of minutes, and Regina allows herself a tiny self-satisfied smile. Not many can claim to have tricked the Dark One.

Except her victory only lasts seconds, when suddenly Emma's slender fingers encircle Regina's wrists once more and she's slammed against the wall.

"Oh Regina," Emma purrs in a low voice that seems to buzz through Regina's entire body. "Do you honestly think I don't know what you're trying to do?" Her free hand delivers a soft, almost gentle blow to Regina's cheek. Regina quivers, not from the sting but from the unexpected flash of pleasure that burns through her veins. Who would have thought that Emma harbours sides like this.

Not Emma but the Dark One, Regina tells herself as she stares up at her opponent, who in her turn is eyeing her appreciatively.

"What am I trying to do then?" She utters defiantly, wriggling her hands until Emma is forced to let her go. Without granting herself a second of triumph, Regina snaps her fingers and shiny black metal starts growing around Emma's wrist, holding it effectively in place above her head.

"You think you can exhaust me," Emma smirks, not at all bothered by the constraint, "You think you can lure me into wasting my power until it's drained." Another click of fingers and a chain sprouts from the first cuff, enclosing Emma's other hand and pulling it up too. Still the Dark One doesn't move, doesn't fight it. Regina is beginning to feel a bit uncertain about her plan to bind Emma's wrists. It should render her helpless, incapable of using her magic, so why doesn't she look the least bit concerned? Why is she smiling still?

"This is kinky," Emma mentions, almost conversationally. Regina cocks her head.

"Usually I'm the dominant one," she says, in spite of her instincts' warning not to trust her victory yet. A grave mistake.

"I am the Dark One!" Emma suddenly roars, and never in her life has Regina been so glad about the existence of soundproof spells. At least Henry's safe, she thinks, as she's hurled backwards into the couch. Emma, inexplicably, has freed herself from the handcuffs. Her face is contorted with rage as she attacks Regina with blasts and blasts of magic.

"How can you think my power would be finite?" She screams and wrecks the couch on top of Regina who barely has time to roll away.

"How can you think you could shackle me? Dominate me?" She screeches and the iron chains turn into snakes at her feet and lunge at Regina.

"Why won't you let me take you?" She cries and yes, she's crying now, and as they fall, her tears become ice spears that are aiming at Regina.

"After everything I've done for you!" And at this Emma breaks down, collapses into a small heap on the floor that's shaken by sobs. With her deflate the snakes, until they're just iron again, curled around Regina's legs. It is very silent all of a sudden, and Regina stands in the middle of her demolished living room, watching her friend cry.

"Emma," she says cautiously after a while, because the woman before her is Emma now, Emma in all her broken glory, Emma the abused saviour, Emma, still breathing under her cloak of darkness.

Emma, who is now lifting her head, face stained with too much mascara. It looks like the darkness is bleeding out of her with every black tear that's rolling down her cheeks, but Regina knows this is not the case, unfortunately. Darkness doesn't yield to grief, quite contrary. It consumes it, forges it into yet another weapon, feeds on it until it's strong enough to take over control. Which means, Regina has to play on this break now, has to use it to talk to Emma before the woman she likes, loves as she realizes now, becomes captive to the Dark One again.

"Emma," she says again, stepping out of the chains and hurrying to the shaking heap. She hesitates briefly, before reaching out to gingerly wrap her arms around Emma. A sigh shudders through them both as Emma accepts the embrace and leans into Regina.

"I just wanted..." Emma begins but Regina shushes her before she can finish her sentence.

"You don't have to explain yourself," she murmurs into Emma's hair and god, why didn't they hug before? Why did it have to come to a catastrophe for her to realize how much she'd yearned for this?

"But I want to explain," Emma protests, muffled against Regina's shoulder, still weak but already defiant again. Regina smiles and releases her reluctantly. Emma's hair is still the Dark One's, her face still greyish white, but her eyes look at Regina the same way they've always had. Or, not exactly the same, because when they were reserved and secretive before, they now shine with a brutal honesty that makes Regina squirm under their gaze. Emma Swan has let her walls down.

"I meant what I said earlier," Emma says at the same time as Regina blurts out: "Don't tell me things you'll regret later."

Emma frowns. "Stop interrupting me, Regina." Her voice rings with a newfound authority that has Regina look at her in alarm, certain that the darkness has regained control. But Emma's eyes remain soft and full of emotion, and her lips form a smile instead of a sneer. Regina relaxes a bit.

"As I was saying," Emma then continues as if nothing happened, "I meant what I said, about me still being me and the darkness simply giving me courage." She takes a deep breath. "I've meant every word I said and I've meant every move I made. I see the way you look at me, Regina, I know that you want me. Yet you're acting as if you hate me. Why?" Her eyes search Regina's and first now does Regina notice how tired Emma looks. How worn, how sad, how, yes, broken. And Regina realizes, she can't lie to her.

"Because," she therefore begins, her voice feeling scratchy in her throat as she fights her own terror about admitting her thoughts. "Because I like you, Emma, very much. And I can't let the Dark One ruin your life even more by sleeping with me without your consent. I can't let the darkness abuse you. I'm not gonna lie, I was tempted. It's your body I desire, but it's your mind I love and I can't do this to you." Regina's voice breaks and she realizes she's crying too now. "I can't do this to you," she repeats weakly and prays, for the sake of both of them, that the Dark One won't choose this moment to return.

"But Regina, don't you see?" Emma whispers, her hands reaching for Regina's. "I am the Dark One." She says it differently now, softer, soothing. "I am consenting. This is me acting, all me, body and mind and heart if you so will, and everything is striving after you."

And Regina is shaking her head, not believing, never believing, although she absorbs every single word Emma is saying.

"Regina, listen!" Emma says, sharper now. Regina is listening, but she wishes she wasn't, wishes she didn't have to hear the words that are too good to be true.

"Didn't I become the Dark One for you?" Emma inquires, "Didn't I give you the dagger as a token of my trust?"

"And yet you erased our memories from Camelot," Regina counters, her mind clinging to this one sane thought in a desperate attempt to withstand the madness Emma's offering.

"To protect you!" Emma says, louder, as if she feels that she's losing Regina. "Camelot was a disaster. A broken kingdom with a corrupt king. Arthur, he didn't help us to find Merlin - he sabotaged all our plans. Everything, this whole mission to Camelot failed, and in the end, bringing us back to Storybrooke was the only thing I could do to save us... Taking your memories was a necessity in the process, but believe me, I'll only keep them until I've sorted out the dangers that are still present."

"What dangers?" Regina whispers when Emma doesn't continue. Her thoughts are racing to keep up with Emma's tale. In a horrible way it all makes sense, matches up with what few memories Regina has of Camelot and its leader. The shrewd look Arthur gave them when they first arrived to the kingdom, the scheming in his glance, the triumphant smile. "What dangers?" She repeats, urgently now, afraid.

"I can't tell you," Emma says, not meeting Regina's eyes. She sounds apologetic but also stubborn, a faint trace of the original Emma in her voice and Regina's heart would warm if it weren't so frustrating.

"Emma," she sighs and the woman before her crumples.

"I'm sorry." Barely a whisper.

"Why did you come here?" Regina asks, equally low. Her heart is still pounding and her skin crawls where Emma has touched her and while she's glad they're talking now, a tiny part of her wishes they could go back to kissing. A tiny part that Regina deliberately chooses to ignore.

"I needed to see someone," Emma murmurs, still evading Regina's gaze. "To know what I'm fighting for."

"But why me?"

A frown settles on Emma's brow, her lips forming a pout and for a second she looks so much like Emma that Regina almost jerks away, the proximity suddenly overwhelming her. She doesn't have the right to be here, cradling Emma's face, not while all they are is friends and both of them have a boyfriend waiting. And yet Emma doesn't move away, doesn't tell her no. Only looks at her in this intoxicating defiance.

"Because I made a mistake. And I will fix it but I needed to be sure first."

"Sure of what?" Regina breathes, although she already has an inkling what Emma is going to say. And indeed:

"Your feelings," Emma affirms her suspicions, and for the first time tonight the blonde looks nervous. "You do have feelings for me, right?"

Regina closes her eyes. Her head is swimming, the late hour and extensive display of magic at last taking its toll.

"Emma..."

"Please." The word is carefully enunciated, every letter pronounced with a purpose that lets Regina know just how much it costs Emma to say it. "I promise I will sort this out, I promise I can. I just need to have something that I can come back to. I need you to be there when I do. I... need you."

"And I need you," Regina whispers, because what else is there to say? What point is there in resistance when all the walls have been torn down anyway, when her heart lies bare and hurting amidst the ruins? When Emma has already seen it in its truest state, what use is there in lying? "I need you, Emma," she therefore repeats, her hands still cupping Emma's cheeks, her eyes mapping every inch of Emma's face. "I need you to come back. If I let you go now - promise you will come back."

"As long as you'll have me," Emma says, "I will always come back."

And she snaps before Regina can say anything else, dissolving into grey smoke between Regina's fingers.

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

unexpected, expected beginnings

Summary: Working at the ice rink has been one of your favorite jobs, although it tends to lead you to reminisce on recurring memories of your past best friend and lover, Timothee. But, when an unexpected visitor comes through the door, will it leave you to start unexpected beginnings? or form a relationship from burnt bridges?

word count: 2,407                                                                                     reading time aprox: 10 mins

Multi-colored strobe lights glided and beamed throughout the ice rink, shining on the faces of people that were either steadily skating or helplessly clinging onto the railing for life. I found comfort in the cold crisp air as I stood idle by the rental skate hut, waiting for my shift to finish, at 8:30, in 15 minutes. 

I laid comfortably on my propped elbow, a smile crossing my lips as I watched the hesitant and naive expressions of those inexperienced skaters. A brief giggle would occasionally be let out as they would slip and tremble when letting go of the sides, in which they then hastily glue themselves to the wall once again.

I shook my head while checking the time, reminiscing on the days I began skating lessons with, my ex best friend and boyfriend, Timothee and how we would find reassurance when we’d watch each other tumble, yet get back up again. I remember it as if it wasn’t nearly 9 years ago, an 8 and 10 year old walking on ice like a baby elephant learning how to walk on it’s hind legs. 

Sometimes I’d wonder where Timothee was, though I’d have to scold myself for letting him cloud my thoughts once again. We had broken up after he had graduated high school, specifically after I had confronted him on a situation involving a girl that crossed certain boundaries he failed to understand and coincidentally after I’d trusted him with the sacred and vulnerable parts of me in bed, for the first time. 

I pressed my fingernails on the pads of my thumb, alternating each finger with different points of pressure as I always found comfort in the slight pain that it would bring. I thought of it as a reminder of reality and it helped me take my mind off of things by focusing on the feeling of discomfort it brought. 

With an exhausted sigh, I checked the time on my phone and saw I still had about 10 minutes to endure. I tossed the device to the side and began bringing out the disinfectant spray to deal with the used skates scattered across the counter, seeing that there were no more customers coming through.  

Although I spoke too soon as the sound of the revolving doors to the rink came to an audible thud which followed 2 other thuds. I didn’t even bother to turn around to know that there were 3 people that just had entered the building, but it came to a surprise when I found only one guy standing patiently in front of the desk. As soon as he saw me, he stared at me in bewildered shock as if I had caught him off guard. Consciously, I reached up to touch my face bashfully, instantly thinking if there had been something bizarre on it. 

He noticed this immediately and waved in off apologetically. “Oh no, I’m so sorry, that was quite rude of me” He chuckled lightheartedly, placing his hand over mine instinctively on the desk. “I-I thought you looked...familiar, per say” He explained queerly, taking his hand away and placing it on his chest diplomatically, looking at me with regretful eyes. 

“Oh that’s okay, don’t worry about it. I had thought there was something wrong with my face” I laughed off, tucking a stray hair behind my ear, smiling at him. 

“Well I find nothing wrong with your face” He confessed smoothly, beaming at me with an infectious smile. “Jonathan” He stated, extending his hand out to shake mine. 

“Y/N” I replied, returning the gesture, fighting off the rosy color threatening to paint my cheeks as I absentmindedly checked the time again; my shift ending in 5 minutes. “Can I help you with anything, Jonathan?” I inquired, remembering I was still on the job. 

“Oh yeah, I’m here with 2 other friends-well I’m more so third wheeling- but can I get 2 size 10s in Mens and a size 7 in Womens?” He ordered. 

“Where are these 2 other friends? Are they coming in later?” I asked, but then felt a little intrusive as I inquired about his business. Turning around, I looked through the racks of skates and found the requested sizes. 

“Oh I came in with them, they’re just getting lockers for us”

Facing him again, I handed him the 3 pairs with a smile. “That’ll be $21 dollars in rentals” I calculated, taking his credit card from him through this little transaction. “Okay you’re all set, enjoy”.

He silently nodded at me with a comical salut and began walking towards the side of the rink where the lockers were. Maybe it was the nosy part of me, but I extended my head to the side, attempting to see who he was talking about. Although, I wish I hadn’t as my stomach sank and saliva had got caught in my esophagus to the point where I started to cough violently.

In all his fame and glory, there stood Timothee chatting about, with a girl entangled in his arms. His green meadow eyes twinkled while talking to Jonathan, the luminescent fractals of color only enhancing his facial features.  

Hastily, I pressed my nails dangerously to my thumb, wincing as I broke the skin’s surface and drops of blood seeped through. “Shit” I whispered in pain, not knowing how to feel as the intensity of shock and emotional turmoil overcame me. 

I grabbed a band aid from the first aid kit glued to the wall, meanwhile checking the time. My phone read 8:34 and the wave of relief I received never felt so satisfying.

‘God I will be forever grateful to you, I pledge my full loyalty. Oh thank you, thank you, merci, salamat, gracias, obrigado, just thank you’ 

Swiftly, I grabbed my coat and bag from under the desk in indisputable excitement. Hoping over the desk and jogging towards the doors with a skip in my step, not even bothering to put on my jacket as I just wanted to be out of this trying atmosphere. 

Until, the unfortunate sound of my name echoed through the stadium. 

“Hey Y/N! Come join us” 

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I gingerly spun around, cringing when 3 pairs of eyes where on me. Especially the green eyes full of perplexity and awe as the mention of my name resonated with him. 

‘For fucks sake. You had one job God, just one job’

While my ‘graceful and elegant’ complaints permeated my head space, I put on a fake smile and pretended to listen with enthusiasm. “Oh no, it’s quite okay. I wouldn’t want to intrude” I rejected, hoping he’d withdraw his offer. 

“No it’ll be fine Y/N” He reassured, beckoning me with the wave of his arm. “Please, give me the honor of showing you a good time” He proposed with an exaggerated posh accent, bowing down at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“Um...I mean” I locked eyes with Timothee, searching for any evidence of comfort or reassurance, but he was just as dumbfounded as I was. “Sure?” I replied, sounding more like a question than a straight answer. 

I rested my things down behind the desk, grabbing the pair of skates I kept by my desk and somehow got my legs to progress forward, feeling every fiber in my body ignite in anxiety as I got closer to the group. I maneuvered my way to the benches and began tying my laces agonizingly slow, hoping that Jonathan would change his mind, in which I would have a perfectly formulated response. 

Memories of ice skating with Timmy soon captured my thoughts and the nostalgia softened any resentful bone in my body. I bit off the loose skin on my lips, steadily reinforcing the knot I had made with the lace and with a sigh, I got up with heavy weights on my shoulders. 

A bubbling sensation of apprehension arose from my stomach as I stepped onto the ice, feeling the sudden change of surface area on the pads of my feet. The luxury of maneuvering through the ice smoothly gave me confidence at the encounter, especially when Jonathan complimented my abilities. I avoided any eye contact with Timmy and kept my head low while I approached Jonathan’s side, but also making sure that I seemed present and interested for his sake. 

We made a few rounds around the rink, Timothee somehow separating from the both of us to come to his girl’s aid whenever she failed to keep her balance while ‘skating’; well, more so pushing off the wall 90% of the time. Although she was quite pretty, she had brunette hair that ran long till her waist and radiating tan skin that looked like the sun puked her out. Timmy grabbed her hand, pulling her next to him as he held her up, laughing in the process as she still slipped and slided. 

Rolling my eyes in resentment, I crossed my arms diving deep into my thoughts.

‘Gosh, imagine not knowing how to skate properly’

 Wait, why was I judging her? I could possibly not be thinking about this now. I’m with an amazing guy with a charming personality. But the thing is, I barely even know Jonathan. But I’m supposed to be having a good time, right? I love skating. But you did love Timmy more, didn’t you?. But, Jonathan has pretty eyes. Well, where do you think your fascination of pretty eyes came from? 

An incoherent grumble slipped out as my mind malfunctioned, putting it into overdrive while also, cutting Jonathan off as he was speaking about something I had completely tuned out. “So that was my tri- Wow was my story that boring?” he asked unsurely, rubbing the back of his head while trying to remain a cool exterior. 

“Oh my god, I’m so- I’m so sorry, I just blacked out there” I covered my face with my palms in embarrassment, my sentence coming out mumbled. “I just...I guess I just have a lot to bear in mind” I justified pitifully, glancing at the young and happy couple frolicing around on ice a few meters away from me. 

Jonathan followed the direction I was looking at and nodded. “Penny for your thoughts? Reminiscing on before?” He inquired, biting his bottom lip. 

I spun around in a haste, titling my head to side. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand” I explained, confused at his ambiguous question. 

He pulled me off to the side, leading us to where the penalty box was. “I have to be honest with you, I knew who you were before we initially met” He confessed, looking at me with a conciliatory expression, like if he were a little kid confessing that he broke his mother’s expensive china and was ready to repent. 

“I’m still not understanding” I responded cooly, pushing myself away a few inches, increasing the distance between us as an uneasy feeling crept under my skin. 

He lifted himself onto the open side of railing, patting the seat next to him, in which I carefully reciprocated, still leaving that distance. He looked up at the high ceiling, swinging his feet in thought, before saying nonchalantly, “I know that you and Chalamet over there went out” He looked over at me with a calm expression, gazing at my dismayed reaction. 

As an attempt to keep my composure, I twiddled my thumbs, pressing onto the bandaid as I swallowed the improper slurs I would’ve used if I was on my own time. “I-um” I started, scratching the back of my head in order to process this new information or if my ears were deceiving me and this was all one big trick. “What do you mean- like how do you- like what?” Shaking my head, puzzled with confusion, I hopped off the side and stood on my skates, peering at him. 

“I know you and Timo-” he began again

“Yes I heard, but how?” I cut him off rudely, not wanting him to repeat the same phrase like he did, as my ears might threaten to fall off and die at the sound of his acknowledgement, ending up like pruned up male parts. 

Shrugging his shoulders, he soon hopped off the railing too, explaining, “Me and Tim go to university together and you were the first thing me and him ever talked about. I remember he would go on and on about you after your guys’ break up” He professed, fixating his attention to Timmy. 

I know I shouldn’t feel like this, but the devil on my shoulder claimed this to be a small petty victory. It’s very infantile of me to even consider so as this was almost a year ago and I should be moving on to become an independent woman, or as my horoscope on Monday said so. 

With all these recurring feelings and hesitations, all I could do was chuckle and dive into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. I bent over grabbing my knees as the hysterics came over me, tears brimming at the corners of my eyes. 

Jonathan soon joined the infectious bubble of laughter, adding onto the entire comical event. “Are you okay?” He asked, in the midst of giggles and stifled coughs. 

I placed my palm over my chest, inhaling and exhaling in order to slow my heartbeat to be able to respond. Jonathan then came in close proximity, wiping away the happy tears that shed down my cheek, taking in my tomato like appearance with eyes full of wonder and content. I stared back up at his in enjoyment, coming off the high we were just put in. 

“I’m sorry, I find this all to be hysterical” I admitted, stepping away from his caress and smoothing out the pleated folds that had appeared on my sweater from when I bent over. 

Although something did come into mind. “Why did you ask me to skate with you, if you knew me and Timmy had a thing back then?”

“Well I mean, I’m not the type of guy to pass up opportunities, and who would pass up a chance to spend time with a pretty girl like you?” He declared, showing off his pearly whites, just like when we had met. 

“But isn’t that like, breaking the bro code or something?”

“Well I mean, Timmy’s out on his- what 4th, maybe 5th date this month- I’m sure he won’t mind” He justified, chuckling light-heartedly. 

-

Narrator’s POV

With that the two skated away worry-free, completely oblivious to the pretty-eyed, brunette French boy that stole brisk glances at the interaction of his best friend and his ex-best friend.

part 2

---

A/N: That’s part one, I know there wasn’t a lot of Timmy’s presence here, but I promise in the next one there will :) it’s a new year and I guess it’s senior year of High school that’s getting to me lol

[hoodoo12]

Ménage (6/13ish)

SFW chapter; unexpected visitor reveals himself, anger, verbal warfare

@thewolfisapartofmysoul @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @yogsathot @dilfyjuice @janitor-boy

Enjoy!

~

It had been so long since he’d had a corporeal form in the human realm, he had almost forgotten what sunlight--real sunlight--felt like. It was . . . nice. Warm.

Dewey rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, nose wrinkling at the smell of demon saturating her sheets. He had hoped she wouldn’t go through with it, hoped he could influence her to see reason and say no, but her loneliness was too strong, too loud. He had nearly cursed aloud when she led the infernal spirit to her bed; becoming corporeal, unless a subject’s life was in immediate danger, was impossible, and required snipping through a bog of bureaucratic red tape. If he had known being a guardian angel came with so many regulations, he would have just stayed dead.

But looking after her had almost made it worth it. Molly was slotted for tragedy and heartache in her life, and he had walked beside her for every step of it. Dewey had kept her alive, kept her safe, out of harm’s way, and in the process, she had grown on him.

But this . . . this, he couldn’t save her from. His charge was corrupted, her soul stained with a demon’s mark. And now that he had physical form, he could speak to her, make her see sense . . . or at least bodily remove her from harm.

She walked into the bedroom, smelling of warmth and fresh roses, and he smiled. “It’s good to hear you sing again, Molly.”

He wasn’t expecting her to scream. Shit.

⁂

So far he had found an interesting collection of random bones and a book that gave off a heavy vibe that warned him off. Beetlejuice stared out her kitchen window at the extensive gardens outside her house, and wondered if she'd think him odd to want to walk through it.

His ear caught her singing over the sound of the shower running, and he thought to surprise her by stepping into her bathroom before she got out, but the water shut off before he made it back through the house.

With his hand on her bedroom door, he stopped short at the bright aura moving in ripples coming from inside.

He peeked in, and his eyes narrowed as he felt tendrils of red work their way into his hair.

A fucking angel was in her room?

⁂

She shrunk back, squeezed between the dresser and the wall, a death grip on her towel to keep it from falling as she froze. He . . . he had wings. Large, snow-white wings that were now folded snugly against his back. She was hallucinating. Had to be. She blinked. They didn’t disappear.

“Wh-Who the fuck are you? Get out!”

Through the haze of fear and shock, Molly could see his lips move and heard the sound of speech, but wasn’t quite able to process what he was saying to her. With a jolt, she remembered her other guest, and prayed he was close enough to hear her. She called his name once, only once.

⁂

How frustrating. Summoning a demon into her home had impressed and fascinated her, but an angel in her bedroom caused her to scream in terror? Dewey could have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t concerned with calming her down.

“Just take a breath and let me explain, Molly, please?”

Instead, she yelled her lover’s name, and he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had hoped the two of them could talk without getting the demon involved, but he supposed everything else was going sideways, so why not this?

There was never a good time to deal with celestial beings, but Beetlejuice wasn't going to let Molly deal with this on her own, especially since she used his full name. If he didn't go in, she might mindlessly repeat it twice more and then where would he be? Plus, she'd called him accidentally; how did he know she didn't call this angel as well?

With a sigh, Beetlejuice walked into her bedroom with as much confidence as he could gather wearing women's sweatpants.

"Hey babe, good morning," he said brightly, as if seeing an angel in her bedroom was a common occurrence.

When the angel's wings spread a little bit, in a show of intimidation, he finally deigned to give him a look. Granted, he didn't make a habit of hanging around with celestials, but this angel, despite his wings, didn't look anything like he expected. Where were the shining robes? The aura of brightness, from standing so close to God? This guy didn't look like that at all. He was only moderately tall, with messy hair, and wearing a sweater vest? Beetlejuice wrinkled his nose.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you just appearing in a woman's bedroom was incredibly rude? What do they teach you, up in angel school?"

Immediately upon the demon's entrance, he bristled, wings expanding as much as they could within the confines of her room. "What, was I supposed to wait around out there to make pleasant conversation with you? I'm here to speak to her."

As soon as Beetlejuice stepped into her room, Molly moved closer to him, eyeing her new visitor with a distrustful eye. Beej didn't seem too worried at his appearance, and that set her a little more at ease. Until he said the word "angel."

"Wait . . . so . . . he's really an angel?" Her brows knit together, still a bit shaky from the initial shock and more confused than she could ever remember being. "Like, wings and halos, 'be not afraid,' actual angel?"

Suddenly, Molly remembered what Beej had said last night about summoning a celestial. "Did . . . Did I do this?"

When Dewey eyes turned to Molly, he softened, holding both hands up in a display of peace.

"Yes, Molly, I'm a real angel. Your angel, actually." For the first time since she had entered the room, he looked a bit sheepish, ruffling a hand through his messy brown hair.

"I'm...well, I'm kind of what you'd call . . . a guardian  angel," he explained further. "To be specific, I'm your guardian angel. And I'm here because this," he nearly hissed, eyes narrowed as he pointed at the demon, "is a bad idea. I can't stress enough how bad an idea this is."

Beetlejuice slipped an arm around Molly's waist as she came near him, subtly laying claim that he knew didn't go unnoticed. In fact, it was probably the reason the angel's voice became a hiss, instead of staying smooth. He smirked.

"I thought guardian angels were young things. Kinda . . . " he paused and pursed his lips, as if trying to think of the term. " . . . like probationary angels? Like, not quite good enough to make it as real angels, kissing God's feet or whatever. Baby angels! Is that true? Do you have to meet some kind of quota and then you get promoted?

An angel.  A real angel. Not just any run of the mill messenger of God, but her own personal guardian angel. Molly stepped out of the protective arm slung around her waist, stepping forward a bit as if to get a better look at him. She was nearly at eye level with him, and she was realizing now that aside from the wings and faint golden corona, he seemed very human.

Her hands shook as they fell by her sides, but not with fear or shock; the clench in her jaw and the sudden narrowing of her eyes gave away that they were shaking with rage.

”How fucking dare you.”

Her tone was low and venomous; the angel looked shocked, but she didn’t give him time to reply or explain.

“You mean to tell me you’ve been here this entire  time, and you’ve just stood by and let all that shit happen?! What the fuck kind of guardian does  that?! Where were you when my family died? Where were you when I was on my own for four years? Were you just sitting back and watching each time I tried to take my life?  Where were you when Rebecca died? Did it matter at all to you how heartbroken I was? What use are you if you can’t keep me from hurting?!”

Her hands were clenched into tight fists at her side, her entire body rigid and practically thrumming with anger.

“You’re a piss-poor excuse for an angel,” she said, her tone lower but no less sharp. ”Get out of my house. I don’t want you here.”

Oh, if it wouldn’t have cost him his wings, he would have taken a swing at that smug, grinning bastard, just to wipe that smirk off his face. Hell, he still might have, if Molly hadn’t turned her wrath onto him. Dewey had been expecting it, but if he was being honest, it didn’t make her anger sting any less. He stood there and took it, looking rightfully guilty, wings folded meekly against his back.

“Sweetheart,” he started, wanting so badly to take her hands but not quite daring to, “I’m sorry. If I could have spared you all of that, I would, but my hands were tied. As long as your  life wasn’t in immediate danger, I couldn’t do anything. But I promise you, I was there.”

He came closer, eyes wide and warm and earnest. “Why do you think you decided to go for a walk that day? Do you think it was an accident that each suicide attempt failed? I was there at your side the whole time. It gutted  me, having to watch you suffer and knowing I couldn’t help you through it, couldn’t have done anything to help. But . . . there’s a higher plan. An order for everything.

“Which is why I’m here now.”

Again, he sent a pointed look toward the demon. “Molly, do you have any idea how dangerous he is? I can’t take corporeal form for anything less than immediate danger of death or corruption, and you’re so close to losing your soul.”

Her mouth opened as if to ask a question, but he held up a hand to stop her.

“Summoning a demon is one thing. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it’s accidental, and the demon runs off to be someone else’s problem. Keeping the demon around? Consorting  with it? That’s another matter.”

Dewey turned his attention away from his charge, eyes narrowed as he addressed Beetlejuice. “Why are you still here? Hoping for one more lay before you hit the road?”

Her anger first startled, then amused him to no end. Most people were awed when they first encountered angels; celestials liked to dazzle. He wished he could just sit down and watch the show; this was prime reality TV right here.

But when this uppity angel took a step forward, right into her personal space where the rage was the strongest, Beetlejuice stepped back towards her too. She'd shaken him off, yes, and he was still only wearing sweatpants--he really should just get back into his suit, but didn't want to risk a moment's distraction--but it was obvious the angel wanted nothing more than to take Molly's hands and probably hug  her, and that was not going to happen with him around.

His eyes flashed a deeper amber as accusations flew from the celestial's mouth.

"She has a point," he spit back. "You were pretty hand's off, it sounds like, and now you waltz in like you're some knight in shining armor? Molly wanted company,  which if I'm understanding correctly, you knew and did absolutely nothing about!"

The angel retorted the same drivel about "his hands being tied", and he spoke over him, addressing Molly directly.

"See the difference between us, baby? Demons are straight forward. Angels fucking "watch over you", which basically means spying."  He flicked a poisonous glance back at the winged being. "Don't deny you weren't watching us last night, or you wouldn't have asked me about 'one more lay'. Were you rubbing one out, watching us like your own private porn? You're jealous! You wished you'd had the balls to come down here and actually spend physical time with your charge!"

He hated to admit it, but the demon’s words stung. He was  jealous. He had spent years wishing he could hold her, could stroke the tears from her cheek, could offer her any kind of comfort or support. It was forbidden, taboo, and in very bad taste, but he had also entertained less innocent thoughts about her. How her lips would feel. How soft her hair would be against his bare skin. And seeing that demon touch her? Kiss her? Stain her body? It was almost more than he could bear.

“I couldn’t  watch,” he spat, his wings ruffling irritably, his cheeks reddening. “I couldn’t stand the sight of you pawing at her.”

He turned to Molly, who seemed shrunken in on herself, as if folding beneath the emotional weight of the situation. “I . . . I’m not always watching. I’ve never . . . seen  anything you wouldn’t want me to see.”

That was a bit of a bend in the rules; angels were supposed to be by their charges' sides at all times, supposed to be above human urges like lust or longing, above such silly notions as embarrassment over a naked body. But he couldn’t be, not with her. It felt . . . violating,  somehow.

Their voices, whether addressing her or spitting venom at each other from their respective sides of the moral spectrum, sounded muted and faint behind the pounding of her pulse in her ears. It was so much all at once; would there ever come a time in her life when she could just have peace? If she had known her little summoning spell was going to toss her right in the middle of a supernatural dick-measuring contest, she would have just left well enough alone.

A shiver trickled down her spine, and suddenly she realized how cold she was, standing in nothing but a damp towel with her wet hair stuck to the back of her neck.

“Guys,” she said softly, still unable to fully process that she was standing in her bedroom with a demon and an angel. “Can you go out into the living room or something so I can get dressed?”

Perhaps she would feel better equipped to deal with this situation once she didn’t feel quite so vulnerable.

Beetlejuice didn't want to leave her side, especially with an angel who was obviously trying to hide a holy boner over the woman standing beside him, but if it was going give him a leg up on a celestial, he'd do it.

"Sure thing, baby girl," Beetlejuice agreed, leaning into her to kiss her cheek while keeping his eyes on angel, just to see his reaction to the familiarity.

Then he left the room, confident that he would be followed. As he suspected, a faint footfall accompanied by the sound of distant bells trailed him. As soon as Molly's door was shut, he spun back on the angel.  

"You fucking think you're “protecting" her?! What a line of horseshit! If you really are spying on her, then you'll know I didn't coerce her into calling me--she did that all on her own! Plus I actively tried to leave! I told her to try again, get something else here instead of me! You'd have had an open door to come to her! But you didn't.  You let her feel like she was alone in this fucking void!

"Are all guardian angels," he put the two words in finger quotes, "as shittily ineffectual as you?!"

He expected some retaliation, whether verbal or physical, but didn't expect the angel's eyes to roam his body as if judging him--well, that's how angels viewed everything, really. Superior bastards.

At his last outburst, Dewey scoffed, finally allowing his eyes to roll. “You could at least put a shirt on. It’s not like it would kill you.”

"No, I'm not changing into something else," he finished, snapping the elastic at the waist of the sweatpants for emphasis. He didn't pull them out enough to showcase he wasn't wearing underwear, but he figured the angel was smart enough to figure it out. "I'm comfortable in these, so suck it!"

It was all he could do to keep his eyes from rolling when the demon cozied up to her, pressed his profane lips to her cheek in a display that was more territorial than affectionate. He nodded and followed suit behind him, shutting the door to let her have a moment’s privacy, and as expected, as soon as they were in the next room over, the demon rounded on him. His arms folded across his chest, a brow arched, like an exasperated parent waiting for a child throwing a tantrum to tire themselves out.

Now that the demon, who she had called Beetlejuice earlier, was silent, he spoke, careful to keep his tone measured and even.

“I don’t expect you to get it. There are rules, procedures, structures. We’re supposed to be silent guardians.” He smoothed some of the ruffled feathers in his wings, attempting to remain aloof. “Anyway. I don’t have to explain myself to you, and you’ll be gone soon enough.”

His eyes drifted toward Molly’s closed bedroom door, brown eyes stormy. Truth be told, he absolutely useless as an angel; if he could have been with her, held her hand, dried her tears . . . maybe none of this would have happened, and she wouldn’t have put her soul in such mortal risk. Hell, he would have settled for just being able to speak to her, to coax her to sing with him, to assure her that she wasn’t alone.

He could have been everything she needed if not for these stupid rules. Angels, he had noticed, had a habit of thinking they knew better than the humans they were placed with, and he had a feeling that if given the opportunity to appear at will, they would use it to manipulate their charges’ choices, altering the course of their life. If there was anything the Boss was a stickler for, it was maintaining free will.

tbc . . .

[splendidlyimperfect]

Gray hasn’t seen Natsu in years - not since he moved away with his boyfriend Joel and Natsu stopped texting him. A chance run-in at a bar brings Natsu back into Gray’s life, but the encounter puts Gray in danger when Joel finds out. Natsu quickly realizes that Gray's stuck in a cycle of violence, and wants to help him escape. But leaving isn't that easy, and sometimes loving someone might not be enough.

Chapters (1/21): 1

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Gray Fullbuster/Original Male Character(s) Characters: Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel, Sting Eucliffe, Rogue Cheney, Erza Scarlet, Lucy Heartfilia Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rape Aftermath, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Natsu just wants to help, but Gray feels like he can't leave, Non-Linear Narrative, Trans Character, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, ftlgbtpride2019

**TW for physically/emotionally/verbally/sexually abusive relationship (NOT between FT characters) throughout, there will be warnings on each chapter**

-----

through all the hard times, i'm on your side

xvii december

.

Gray can’t breathe. He’s pressed up against the wall by the front door, so close – he could reach out and grab the handle and take off down the stairs. His keys are tucked tight in his back pocket so they don’t jingle, and he’s counted the cash in his wallet over and over again.

All he has to do is grab the handle, and he can’t.

There’s a quiet sound from the bedroom and Gray’s heart leaps, sending him skittering back against the wall like a rabbit. When a shadow appears at the bedroom door Gray looks around, quickly trying to come up with an explanation as to why he’s standing, fully dressed at the front door at three a.m.

It’s only Bella.

Gray sighs in relief, crouching down as the Rottweiler lumbers over to him and demands to be petted. Gray’s hands shake as he runs his fingers through her fur, and she moves closer to him, settling on her haunches and whining.

“Shh,” Gray whispers, stroking the soft spot on the top of her nose. “I’m sorry, you can’t come. I’ll be—”

He cuts himself off as the realization hits him, hard in the chest. He won’t be home soon. At least, not if he can actually get up the courage to open the fucking door and start running.

Bella whines again and leans against Gray, and the tight, nervous energy in his chest relaxes a tiny bit as he kisses the top of her head. A part of him aches – he wants to take her, grab her leash from the hook behind the door and bring her with him, to...

Gray’s phone buzzes and he jumps, a wave of panic running through him as he bumps the coffee table. He quickly grabs the ashtray before it can hit the ground, but now Joel’s definitely moving in the bedroom.

Gray looks down at his phone.

i'm downstairs, the text reads. It’s Natsu. do you need me to come up? or call 911?

Continue reading on AO3

Gray can’t breathe – he's frozen to the ground, and what’s Joel going to do when he comes out to see Gray sitting at the front door with a backpack on and his phone in his hand? The bedsheets are rustling and a lamp turns on in the room, and Gray can’t reach the door handle fast enough.

Bella gives Gray one last headbutt, then trots off down the hall toward the bedroom. Gray can hear Joel’s low, sleepy voice murmuring to her, and then the lights go off again.

Gray claps his hand over his mouth to keep in a sob. He wants to take her with him so badly, but once again, she’s saved him, and this time he can’t waste it.

As quietly as possible, Gray pushes himself to his feet, then reaches for the doorknob and turns it. There’s a soft click, and then it’s closed behind him and he’s standing in the hallway of the apartment building, heart pounding in terror.

Gray runs. He ignores the elevator, dashing toward the stairs and taking them three at a time. Each door brings a new wave of fear, and he expects each of them to slam open, an angry face behind them.

By the time he makes it to the main floor, Gray can barely breathe. He can see Natsu’s beat-up car in the visitor stall, and Natsu’s standing beside it, looking from his phone up to the window of Joel and Gray’s apartment.

The space between the stairwell and the front door seems insurmountable, but Gray forces himself to move, forces himself not to look back as he pushes through both sets of doors and dashes across to Natsu’s car.

“Gray,” Natsu whispers, turning around and reaching out his arms. Gray’s about to let Natsu pull him into a hug when the revulsion kicks in – beer breath, heavy limbs, the pain Gray’s been ignoring. He turns and throws up into the bushes instead. He feels dirty – sticky and uncomfortable, like he needs to wash his hands again.

“Hey, you’re gonna be okay,” Natsu whispers, moving toward Gray but not touching him. “C’mon, we should go. You’re safe now, I promise.”

You can’t promise that, Gray thinks, but he’s so, so tired, and he can’t bring himself to argue.  

As they pull out of the parking lot, Gray keeps his eyes on Joel’s apartment window, waiting for the light or the shouting, or for Joel to come crashing out the front doors. Nothing happens and it’s almost worse because now Gray can’t stop thinking of Joel waking up without him.

Natsu’s fingers brush against Gray’s and Gray lets out a shaky breath, pulling his knees up to his chest and squeezing Natsu’s hand tightly. His chest hurts and his cheeks are hot and wet with tears, and he just wants it all to end.

“It’s okay,” Natsu says, and Gray wants so badly to believe him, to have faith that he’s going to be okay. Instead he cries as Natsu whispers, “I’m not gonna let him hurt you again.”  

[digitalmarketingblogsuk]

How about we Fight Back Against Negative SEO?

The presentation of Google's Penguin update had one basic point: improve the nature of the SERPs. While Panda zeroed in on rebuffing meager content, Penguin took action against connect conspire eshate clauses and made site authority undeniably more significant while figuring PageRank and in general worth. One heartbreaking outcome of this adjustment of positioning approach was the observable expansion in adverse SEO, a strategy which has encountered reestablished fame (both as an idea and a veritable danger) of late. Because of this flood, site proprietors and SEOs currently face a genuine danger to their hard-earned Google rankings.

The Mechanics of Negative SEO

Prior to setting out on any conversation of negative SEO and its outcomes, it's ideal to begin without any preparation and characterize the idea in clear, unambiguous terms. At the point when Google's calculations investigate and assess any site, they see which locales are connecting to it. As you're likely effectively mindful, rankings are to a great extent dictated by the connection juice of inbound connections. As such, a connection passes a portion of the PageRank worth of digital marketing agency london starting point page to its objective. Yet, imagine a scenario in which that worth is determined as being negative.

Regardless of whether it's an excess of accurate match anchor text, such a large number of connections from nasty pages, or a blend of the two, the Penguin calculation means to punish locales who've been engaged with obscure connection rehearses. Thus, in principle, on the off chance that you needed to hurt another site's rankings, you could do exactly that by connecting to it's anything but a ton of destinations with low worth.

Significantly more frustratingly – as I was as of late reminded – it's truly simple to reevaluate a negative SEO assault on another site. For example, one could go to destinations like Fiverr or elance to employ a computerized hired gunman. The essential thought is that somebody would develop as numerous malicious, unnatural connections as conceivable to their objective of decision. Whenever they've wiped out the opposition, they can move into the top space for their ideal keywords. Unfortunately, some modest website admins who are the casualties of such missions would have no clue about what's going when their webpage's rankings drop.

Who's Most Vulnerable?

Sites with better-than-expected connection authority and PageRank are more averse to be influenced by bad SEO assaults. While Penguin made it simpler to utilize the training for evil methods, the study of positioning sites is still colossally mind boggling. A ton goes into the equation, including content, keywords, semantics, stay time and significantly more. It's harder to hurt the standing of destinations with a wide channel of unrivaled content and a develop organization of great inbound connections. In this manner, enormous sites like the Huffington Post will not feel the sting of negative SEO like their more modest rivals would.

Unfortunately, it's the destinations at the lower part of the command hierarchy attempting to climb their way up that are generally helpless. A negative SEO mission could unleash ruin on genuinely youthful sites that need huge documents of content or a decent number of definitive inbound connections. More current sites need to work the hardest for their spots and ordinarily don't have as numerous great connects to exceed the awful; thus, battling up-and-comers should be wary, as they can't stand to have their endeavors crashed by regrettable SEO. Taking into account what amount is on the line, it's flighty to disregard the perils presented by adverse SEO, which is a contributor to the issue. The individuals who are most in danger are individuals who are less inclined to know, or even give it a second thought, what negative SEO is or does.

Supporting the Defenses

To make your site as impenetrable to negative SEO endeavors as could really be expected, you'll need regardless the rudiments and move gradually up. First of all, play out an exhaustive review of your inbound connections and ensure that they're important and utilize suitable anchor text. You'll likewise need to take care to try not to get carried away with accurate match anchor text, as Penguin will in general punish such connections. Furthermore, utilizing third party referencing strategies like visitor writing for a blog to make backlinks to your pages from high-esteem destinations is an extraordinary technique for passing on powerful connection juice (as long as you do it appropriately).

In the period of Penguin, excellent connections are surely the greatest factor in reinforcing site authority, and creating traffic. More significant is the quality content that will urge different destinations to connection to yours naturally in any case. Recollect that SEO, similar to financial aspects, is certifiably not a lose-lose situation.

By making the most ground breaking, top notch content conceivable, you'll draw in quality connections from quality locales, regardless of whether they're rivaling you in a similar specialty. Disregard zeroing in exclusively on transient gains and put your time in accomplishing the objective of getting all around regarded in your field of ability. On the other hand, take a restricting perspective and make a total annoyance of yourself by exasperating individuals with your sentiments – in any case, the point is to get them to pay heed and connection to you!

Read Also: 10 Common SEO Myths you need to Get Out of your System

Hitting Back

On the off chance that you believe you're getting spammed with terrible connections by a SEO professional killer, you can get proactive and assume control over issue to stem the tide of below average connection juice. To begin with, you'll need to decide if you're being focused on. Truly, the cycle is somewhat included. In any case, by utilizing a mix of Open Site Explorer, Google Webmaster Tools and connection evacuation utilities.

So, the interaction is as per the following:

1. Incorporate incredible connections into your site. A greater amount of these you have, the more outlandish a negative SEO endeavor will hurt you.

2. Watch out for your investigation and website admin devices. On the off chance that you see traffic coming from any semblance of Fiverr, or references from destinations that you know shouldn't connect you, explore the reason. I was sufficiently fortunate to have the option to follow a negative SEO endeavor directly from the beginning since I intently watch where my traffic comes from – I prompt you do likewise.

3. In the event that you believe you're being assaulted, track things intently. It'll take some time for the connections to show up in Open Site Explorer and Webmaster Tools however as they do utilize SEO Gadget's connection evacuation instrument to track down the most hazardous connections and attempt to have them eliminated. This includes messaging the proprietors of the destinations that have connected to you and, in my experience, is hard going. Reaction rates are somewhere near the 20% imprint yet every last makes a difference.

4. Remember about Bing's deny apparatus.

5. Keep a bookkeeping page of the connections that have been worked without your consent and present a reinclusion solicitation to Google with a clarification of what's been happening. I do this regardless of whether rankings haven't been influenced it's smarter to appropriate than respond.

The Future of Negative SEO

Google has been ordinarily mum on the effect of negative SEO and the amount it factors into the condition. That is not especially stunning, since their precise calculation plans are strictly confidential mysteries, in spite of the fact that there has been an unpretentious rephrasing of their rules in the course of the most recent couple of months which have practically affirmed that negative SEO is conceivable.

There's some discussion of adding a connection repudiation highlight, for example, the Disavow Links utility found in Bing Webmaster Tools, and digital marketing agency leeds will likely show up in the following not many months. The idea of negative SEO has been around for quite a while, and it presumably will not disappear any time soon. In any case, you can anticipate that Google should keep on tweaking its calculations to invalidate the endeavors of negative SEO professionals around the web.

The Real Deal

How much adverse SEO campaigns represent a danger is the subject of some discussion. Actually most website admins will not actually need to stress over it. All things considered, it never damages to decide in favor alert and get your work done to decide if you're targeted of somebody who's hoping to bring your site down a notch. Stay careful and make a move when it's required, yet don't invest an excess of energy stressing it's smarter to simply continue ahead with the more certain sides of SEO!

[nothisis-ridiculous]

Proxy Cosmos

(An alternate reality where Alec Ryder lived, and both twins were awake during the events of Andromeda.)

Chapter Five:

"So Vetra, about that offer to find me sp-" "Already ahead of you, Ryder," The Turian rumbled, swiveling the chair around, "I found a group back on the Nexus that will grow whatever you need. Apparently, your spice collection means a few more plant species brought to Andromeda from the Milky way." Elsee beamed, "I knew leaving behind my stuffed animal collection was a good idea." The Turian snorted, "you could get all the stuffed animals you wanted from even a pinch of saffron." "Anymore than that would ruin a dish anyway." "That does mean giving up some of your collection." The Tempest lurched nothing like being thrown from their feet but enough of a lull forward to break the monotony of a usually smooth ride. Vetra and Elsee's attention turned to their Omni-tools for a diagnosis of the problem. When nothing came, Vetra pushed out of her seat, and Elsee started for the door. "Another impromptu upgrade from Gil?" "Not enough screaming is coming from the flight deck for that," Vetra murmured, following her lead, "and you Dad reamed Gil the last time that happened." "He's so friendly."

"Better than your old man getting you kicked off of your home world." "Fine, you barely win this round," she teased the Turian.

Vetra's soft chuckling drew the attention of everyone, the somber mood turning sour. Bright green lights flooded the cockpit, six eyes that dwarfed the Tempest threatening to devour them at any moment. While the smaller t-shaped ships loomed in a blockade, curving around the ship so that it could not maneuver around them. Elsee didn't need to see what was behind them to know they were trapped. "They are scanning us, Pathfinder." Alec's face contorted, and Elsee rose on her tiptoes to try and see more. Liam's bulkier figure protecting her from the full view. Mostly obscuring the figure that projected onto the video screen, only able to seem some of the cream-colored bone that made up the crest. Kett. "Where is the one who activated the Remnant?" The slightly mechanic voice demanded, "their DNA signature is there. Answer me." Alec was not at all pleased, his voice barring none of his irritation, "You're the one in my way. Who are you?" Elsee attempted to push passed Liam, earning a gentle shoulder grab to stall her attention, "El," shaking his head, a corner of his lip raised. He did not like this; she had activated both pieces of Remnant technology, whatever he wanted was not good for her survival. The ship moved as if it had been yanked from a box by a grabby child. Luckily the ship, in this case, had caught against something and resisted the first initial pull. "They've locked navigation!" "We're being steered into their ship!" Alec slammed his fists into the console, "Just tell me what you want!" "I am not interested in your-- Ah." Alec pivoted to the familiar presence of his daughter, her face curiously going between the screen and him. Whatever this Kett wanted obviously focusing on her, instead of anything else they could offer. He would never get it. The Pathfinder's arm stuck out in front of Elsee so that she could not move any closer. "What do you want?" Elsee's bold question answered with a harsh glare from her Father. The Kett seemed a little more willing to share his thoughts, "I won't explain what you can't understand." "I actually know a lot about the Remnant," her pluckiness just intensified the glare, but damn if it wasn't the few more seconds SAM needed, "we should compare notes." "Enough!" it was interesting on how that struck a note with the alien, he must have been some high ranking member to hate the idea of collaboration, "your defiance is naive and reckless. This day marks the beginning of your greatness." Elsee grinned wide, that was her favorite compliment. Usually mentioning that to her made it a challenge to try and defy previous expectations of naive and reckless. So much that the thought made her chuckle in the face of the enemy that could very easily eliminate them at any given moment. The lights began to turn on around them, screens returning to their normal messages. With the Kett no longer looming above them, the crew relaxed a little. Suvi and Kallo sending each other glances to confirm that the ship was back under their control. "SAM," Alec questioned. "I have plotted a potential course through the Scourge." "Do it!" The Tempest took a tight turn that left everyone with little time to hold on. Alec pressed Elsee into the round bars, before gripping to the central portion himself, "Report!" "Enemy destroyed. Damage to aft sensors!" At least a positive came from Suvi's mouth. "Scourge got it?" Suvi affirmed. "It will be tight," SAM warned, as the scourge seemed to press in closer around the ship. Taking out something with each little bump that sent the crew swaying. But Kallo was adept at flying through these dangerous clouds, exclaiming loudly as they reached open space, "Yes!" "Nice work, kid," sincerely breathed Alec, "but who the hell was that guy?" "A major dick," huffed Liam. "Pathfinder, we've got trouble down here! You need to find us a port, now!" Gil interrupted over the comms. "Great," Alec's eyes rolled, "where did we end up?" Suvi attempted to corral the computers into giving her a better response, but it wasn't happening, "Sensors are damaged, but I think we are at the vault's co-ordinates." "You think?" it wasn't good enough for him, but it was likely all he would get, "Gil, give it what you can. We're settling down." The planet from first look did not seem promising. Rivers of lava carved into what looked like cooled lava didn't appear to be the place to land a burning ship. But where there was one fire, another always seemed to crop up. "We're being contacted." Six ships pinged on the sensors, forming around them as the ship broke the atmosphere. "We need to land," Alec's fingers drummed against the metal, "open a comm." "Tove jajalesh do!" shouted a voice. This was the perfect time to meet a new alien race, while every minute resulted in another error message. "Tove jajalesh do," did he imagine that it sounded more irritated? Elsee looked over Suvi's typing, a wide grin starting to form on her face. Her eyes only glancing to her father after he failed to respond to the alien voice. "We're visitors from another galaxy. Our intentions are peaceful," Alec didn't convince his daughter, earning the same sideways look Ellen used to give him all the time when he was about to be an ass. It wasn't a secret he was uncomfortable around new people and had a difficult time around the ones he knew. "Paav, nele set do," the voice replied as another ping uploaded to the Tempest. "They've sent us a nav point," Kallo reminded, stirring the crew's attention from their individual thoughts. Alec nodded, diverting his attention to the patch of green amid the black and yellow background surrounding it. An oasis in the desert. "It's beautiful," Elsee murmured, straining on her toes as if it would let her see more of the green landscape before them. "Team, suit up, we need to be careful," Alec ordered, most the of the crew already heading for their gear. "Suit up?" Elsee questioned his command, "really?" His head titled at her curiously, the team gossips that they were remained to hear this out, "and why not?" "They already didn't shoot at us, unlike the Kett, so point one these guys, and," Elsee formulated her words, "we're the ones running to them in a burning ship. I don't think showing up fully plated and loaded is a smart idea. We need this to go right." "I'm the Pathfinder- first contact is on me," he corrected, his face returned to a scowl, "and if that means getting shot at I'm doing it on even ground." "Spoken like a hardened N7," Elsee muttered, arms folding across her chest, "not someone known for making friends." Alec huffed, bringing in air to puff out his chest, "no gear, no leaving the ship. Got it, soldier?" ====== Elsee's first mistake had been in confronting him in front of the crew. Alec was already wired from running into the Kett, his temper already at a dangerous low from being stuck in the med clinic while his daughter got to traverse around Eos. Now the frustration multiplied as the packed bay grew stale and awkward, each member taking turns with giving him a look. Scott was oblivious to particular circumstances as he was caught in engineering with Gil during the encounter, but he read the room well. The absence of his sister another telling sign of the events he missed. "If anyone would like to object, you may stay behind, and we can drop you off at the Nexus at our earliest convenience," Alec snapped at the group after Cora lingered for too long in his space. Vetra's mandibles wavered, Cora and Scott remained silent and still. Liam looked through the glass window that revealed the hallway. He looked close to saying something or running, but for now, his emotions remained in check. His finger tapped on the gun, debating with it inwardly cheeks puffing in and out as he avoided anything other than ignoring the Pathfinder. The boy shared much in common with his daughter, and the two were often found together, a fact that had not escaped his notice. He didn't know which one of them was the worst influence on the other. For now, Liam remaining obedient to the loose ranking system was enough. Alec rolled his head from side to side, fingers following the grooves of the Paladin pistol- the chosen weapon for this encounter. Glancing at the others in turn in the last check to ensure that they were ready for this. A twist of anxiety with a twinge of excitement brewed in his gut, mixing with the restlessness that always inhabited him. The door opened into a brighter world, the rushing of waterfalls filling the air around him. The fresh smell of air filtered by an abundance of plants- something none of them had naturally experienced since leaving their homes. The large plants reminding him of a tropical ecosystem, but that was something his daughter would know more about. The creatures coming at him with guns and armed to the point of covering their heads. The helmets looked similar in design to his own, but the wide neck covering was strikingly different. They also had broader and meatier chest, leaving the rest of the body to continue out without any other major flares or dips. This amount of observation only coming after his gun aimed back at the aliens. The ground team following the Pathfinder's lead. In combat, he found, it was either very loud or silent. This was the latter of the two. The strange species sights set on them, their separated index finger hovering just above the trigger. The team behind him collectively hold their breaths, waiting to see who would move first, them or the strangers. They moved first, a blue light attached to something like an Omni-tool scanning over the Pathfinder, but at a safe distance. Alec felt this was enough to lower his weapon, not take it out of his hand, but to lower the pistol. The four behind him followed as the species began to call back and forth to each other. A stray alien unmasked to reveal flaps of skin making a sort of mane around their heads, ran for the rest with a long gun held tightly in his hands. The rest didn't notice him, as they continued the chattered between them. They continued to ignore him, even as his scope focused on the strangers at their port. The shot missed. Elsee yelped from behind him, pulling his attention to the smoldering metal. He couldn't bring himself to quite yet face his disobedient child, his hesitation granting her time to move. The block preventing his temper from rising disintegrated with the misfire that was an infinite time more insulting than a shot taken at him. If these -people- fired at an unarmed civilian they could never work in peace. His pistol pulling from his hip, much more rapidly than lining up the shot to hit the zig-zagging alien. With another breath, the trigger released. His mind pictured the grey-blue streak of alien falling to the ground in a pool of his blood, but what manifested were muted brown eyes and a streak of identically colored hair. Armored in nothing but a layer of cotton and other blended materials, she took the full impact. Or rather her right shoulder shattered. Sending her tumbling to the feet of the aliens, so paralyzed by the pain to realize the predicament she was tossed into. The alien previously holding the scanner shouted something, and the entire squad moved away from the writhing human. Gil, Suvi, and SAM screaming in his ear ignored for his instinct to pull his offspring out of trouble.