#my clothes are on the floor faster than the human eye can comprehend

[wildsaltair]

you can’t show me this picture at 10:39 in the morning and expect me to act normal in any way, shape, or form

[dabiboy]

Another self-indulgent piece I came with last night at 1am. 

Author’s note: Angst, kinda fluff. The characters here are Dabi, Natsuo, Rei and y/n. And a small originial one, he. Also, let me know if you’d like a part two!

Rencounter [Part 1?]

There was blood all over the places, heroes saving the ones who were waiting for hope under pieces of concrete, missing kids looking or their parents, total mayhem. But that was not it, as if that chaos was not enough, a broken human being was broadcasting live his story, telling the world that him, Touya Todoroki, better known as Dabi was Endeavor's first son, abused and tortured, used as an object for his own ego and selfishness. A kid tossed aside who ended up being a monster because of his father's sins.

You didn't even know when it happened, but the fight got even bigger, backups arrive and a few bullets got into Dabi's body in an attempt knocking him down, but his adrenaline and his pain were keeping him awake, taking pain. He had suffered more than that. Another building collapsed, filling the surroundings with dust and blinding the witnesses. You ran over Dabi, who was now laying on the floor because of the blood loss and probably because of the strong emotions he was having. You could see it among the dusty space, Endeavor walking towards you. He looked defeated, wounded as if he had committed the worst of crimes, and in fact, he did.

''Take him away from here'' he said.

He didn't know you, but he quickly assumed what he meant to you by the way you were begging him to open his eyes.

After making Dabi stand back on his feet, barely awake you held him by his waist and held his writs as his arm was across your neck. You dragged him into an alley, all alone and away from everyone's sight. An old friend owned you a favor, and better said, this 'friend' had said you could call him anytime, for anything, so you had to call him immediately once you felt trapped and almost in despair without knowing what to do or where to go.

...........................................

''Thank you, Hao'' you said from the back seat to the old man driving in the middle of the night.

''Don't thank me. You're my sunflower's grandaughter, how could I leave you there?'' He said with a relaxed smile, despite having a wounded villain in the backseat, and you smile at the nickname.

''I would always be thankful for this, you can't stop me'' You laughed weakly. ''Are you sure is it safe there?''

''It is'' He spoke slowly ''There are a few people in the village, and they know me too so, they shouldn't bother you. Besides, the house is quite far from the village so maybe no one will know you're there'' 

''You can... You can leave me a few steps away. I know it is hard for you to be there'' you looked out the window, caressing Dabi's hair.

''Ah, don't worry about it little cherry. Good memories are good to be remembered, and in that house, your grandmother and I were happier than anyone. Time was little but wise.''

You felt a tear running down your cheek and you couldn't tell if it was because of Hao's words or because of the wounded and deplorable Dabi resting in your lap, whining when the car went over a bump. Hao understood you better than anyone, he was... The only person you could trust this hiding and help. A long time ago, he was your grandmother's lover, a secret relationship that no one knew of. She decided to leave her husband and ran away with Hao, a young thief at that time, a man who worked for the ones that paid, a man who did things that not even the wind knows about. A man who loved your grandmother despite his actions. In the end, faith played its part and took them away from each other, but their love was the greatest you've heard of, and the relationship you had with Dabi was pretty similar. As a child, you couldn't comprehend why your blood grandparent didn't like him, and you could understand it when you were older, when your grandmother told you to find a love like that one on her lasts minutes of life. You could swear your grandmother was there, smiling with compassion as she looked at you, telling you to be brave and stay by his side. Just as she did with Hao.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you couldn't notice when you arrived, but there you were. An old and feudal looking house in the middle of the countryside, and you could see the small lights from the village a few miles away. Hao helped to take Dabi out and get him inside the house.

As you set the tatami on the floor, the old man light up the fireplace and left you a bowl of warm water and some towels.

''I'll be in the village if you need anything'' He said standing up.

''Thank you, again. As soon as all of this chaos is over I'll make you some dumplings'' you said giving him a tired but honest smile.

''I don't think they'll be as good as the ones your grandmother used to make, but I'll give them a try'' Hao laughed and patted your shoulder. ''Be sure of remembering him that you love him. A man like him needs to remember that''

Those were the lasts words he said before leaving the house. You heard the car engine start again as the sound vanished faster.

You get rid of Dabi's clothes, leaving him only in his underwear and covered with a blanket until mid torso. His body was wounded, there was dry blood around the staples and you were sure one was infected, was it gonna be his end? You could only wait. You hand washed his clothes and set them next to the fireplace. Using the towels and a bit more clean warm water, you washed his body softly, his face, his arms. He looked so different with his eyes closed and a calm expression on his face. Once you were done, you laid by his side, supporting your body weight on your shoulder so you could look at him and wondered how he would look like without his scars, just curiosity though, because you loved him. Scars and all. And then, another painful yet beautiful moment came to your head.

''Stop looking. You fucking weirdo'' Dabi said with his eyes closed, a hand behind his head.

''I'm not looking'' You lied, laughing and pressing a kiss on his cheek making him open your eyes and give you a look.

''Besides a weirdo, you're a terrible liar'' He lifted an eyebrow and smiled at you.

''Well, sorry. I can't help looking at the handsome naked bastard by my side.'' You kept your smile and kissed him again but he scoffed.

''Bastard yes, but I'm far from being handsome dollface. I look like a fucking puzzle, made out of different parts'' He laughed, but you knew he meant every word.

''Listen here, you jerk'' You said straddling his hips ''I like you. Every part of you. The scars around your eyes'' You pressed a soft kiss on the burnt skin ''Your jaw, and mouth,'' again, you pressed kisses along his jaw and a chaste kiss on his lip ''Your neck,'' repeating the actions, you got to his chest ''This I love too'' you kissed his scarred chest, longer than the other kisses ''I don't care how you look like. Your scars? They're a reminder of how strong you are, of how many shits you were able to take. And here you are. Alive, with me'' You caressed his cheek with your hand, and he was at a loss for words.

Pulling you from your nape, he crashed his lips on yours. It was a soft yet deep kiss, and you could feel everything that he wanted to say to you. I love you, I fucking love you.

Knock knock.

The sound took you out of your thoughts and you were back in the old house, Dabi still sleeping, but now? He was looking a bit more uncomfortable. He was sweating, his breathing was more erratic, he looked like he had a fever and maybe the infection he had was causing problems.

You stood up and walked to the door, was it that Hao forgot something? You were expecting to see him, but when you opened the main door your jaw draw and your eyes got wider.

''W-what... What are you- How are you here?'' You asked in disbelief. 

''We,'' Natsuo took a deep breath, he looked as if he had been running ''We followed you. But the taxi driver left us quite far from here because he said the road was too lonely,'' He stopped again and took a deep breath ''We just assume you were here and not in the village'' 

''Please, where is he'' Rei, holding his hand on his thighs and trying to catch her breath said ''I need to see him''

You weren't sure about what to say, Dabi exposed Endeavor earlier and maybe the hero society was about to end, and they were there. Wanting to see the most wanted criminal. Or should I say, their son and brother.

They walked in as you closed the door behind you and guide them to where Dabi was laying. Natsuo stopped right in his tracks, breath caught in his throat as his eyes filled with tears at the sight of his older brother. Rei, on the other hand, looked calmer but she was processing everything. The son she thought was dead was there, breathing.

They both walked and sat on the floor next to him as you sat on the other side. Rei took his hand as a tear escaped from her eyes and Natsuo layed a hand on her shoulder.

''Is he... Is he ok?'' She asked you shyly.  

''I don't know, he's been sweating and... And I don't know what to do, he has lost a lot of blood and even though I took it off, it looks as if one of the staples got infected'' 

''Good thing I came prepared'' Natsuo let out a sad smile, grabbing his bag. Right, he worked in the medical field so he knew what to do.

As he cleaned and disinfected the red area, Rei was still looking at him. And the expressionless face she had in the begging was now one full of sadness, pain, and remorse. You and Natsuo exchanged a few words, it was not the best way of meeting each other but there you were. When he was done, he sat back next to his mother, both of them looking at the body resting on the tatami. It was hard, for both of them. Dabi looked unrecognizable, the only familiar trait was his hair. Now white, after washing it in front of Endeavor. His eyes were familiar too, but those turquoise eyes were closed. Rei felt filled with guilt, she couldn't save him and now he was a wanted villain, a man that had lost everything. Her son was there but at the same time, it was not. Natsuo felt that way too, and he remembered every time Dabi told him he wanted to disappear, all the times that he questioned his existence,  and he wanted nothing more than to apologize and to ask him a lot of questions. It was his big brother after all. And you? You wanted to kiss him, to tell him how much you love him, to make him remember that he was not alone, that he had you by his side. After a few minutes of long silence, Dabi's voice made you all looked in awe.

''Please... Please just...'' His voiced crack and he furrowed his eyebrows, he was having a nightmare ''Just make it stop,'' the sweat was more evident as he spoke, his heartbeat going faster ''I can't take it anymore, it hurts, it fucking hurts'' His voice was stronger in the last sentence, and Rei and Natsuo had no clue on what to do.

''Dabi?'' You called his name, hand on his hair.

''I'll train harder tomorrow, dad'' He hissed, it was as if he was feeling everything he felt back then ''Just let me go with mom today, please'' It was the first time you heard such words, such vulnerability. And your heart was breaking more and more ''I'll be a hero but give me time'' He hissed again, a cracking sound leaving his throat ''But please make it stop'' this time his voice was low, a rare high pitch resembling pain ''It's hurting me''

Tears were rolling down your cheeks, and the two other Todoroki's were looking like you too. You were all broken in front of such words, knowing all the pain that Endeavor made him go through when he was just a child.

''Mom...'' He called out and Rei opened his eyes and got closer to him ''Help me'' Dabi's eyes were still closed and he had a painful furrowed expression ''Make this stop, I beg you'' Rei put a hand over her mouth, controlling her sobs.  

''Dabi, hey. Wake up, c'mon'' You said, leaving various kisses on his forehead. ''You're here, with me. It is me, y/n'' you said again, and you moved in such way his head was now on your thigh, as you spoke against his forehead. He opened his eyes, and the two other white-haired surprise guests were even more in shock when they saw the color of his eyes. Same as Enji, same as Shoto. 

''Y/n?'' He said weakly, smiling tiredly when he recognized you and only you in his deplorable and wounded state ''You're still here'' 

''Of course, I'm here... I'm not leaving you'' You whispered, and noticed  how his eyes moved towards Natsuo, and Rei. 

''Did I fucking die already?'' His voice was raspy and he coughed, closing his eyes again.

''Let's give them some space, mom. We will come back when he's awake'' Natsuo told to her mother, trying to ease her crying as he stood up and walked out of the room, giving you a look that said take care of him, we'll be here when he's better.

''Y/n'' Dabi called, making you look at him again

''Yes?'' You said, still playing with his white locks, some of them still looked a bit grey because of the black hair dye he used.

''Don't let my father come near me, it still hurts'' He was having delirious again, and you noticed when his eyes looked disoriented.  

''I won't... It is just you and me, ok? I won't leave your side, I promise''

He gave you one last look before closing his eyes one more time, the medicaments Natsuo gave him were working, and the sweat was becoming less and less. He was going to be better by the morning, now, the real question was... How was he going to react with his mother and his brother there? You prayed it didn't affect any of them, but the truth was that it was going to be impossible to control their emotions, after all... They still shared blood, and the two of them? There were just two more victims of a man's sins, of a past that still haunts them. However, as long as you were by Dabi's side, you were going to hold his hand just as you were doing now, because there was no way in hell you were going to leave him. Not a chance, even if the things morning next were going to be complicated, you were going to be there for him. With him.

With Dabi, or Touya. It doesn't matter. He was the man you loved, and despite the hardness of things you were going to be there.

[girlmeetsliv3]

Lilies of the Valley III

A/B/O!BTS x Reader

Flowers can have different meanings depending on the flower shape, color, and method in which they are presented. Lilies are my favorite for such a simple flower can have so many distinct meanings.

In the language of flowers, yellow lilies are said to represent both deception (perhaps tied to the notion of concealment) and graciousness.

Release Date: 05/25/20 @ 7 pm

previously ~ next

        Yoongi shook his head, black fringe swaying slightly. “That’s ridiculous. You’re staying with us.”

        “Absolutely not!”

        The refusal was out of her mouth before she'd even thought about it. Both men flinched at her rejection but didn't look surprised. YN however was beginning to be upset, of course they would try to take advantage of the situation. I shouldn’t have expected any different. The tension was beginning to rise between the two and YN suddenly remembered that Yoongi liked to provoke people. Suddenly Jimin raised his hands as if to show no ill will, "We don't mean it like that." His hands raked through his perfectly styled hair, "It's just that you're our mate. Legally now too."

           “It wouldn’t look right. Plus it would be dangerous.” Yoongi finished for him, leaning forward and uncrossing his arms. He tentatively reached across the table, placing his hand over hers. It was warm and softer than YN would’ve imagined, she didn’t remove it and she couldn’t quite understand why. Maybe because it was meant to comfort her and it had been a long time since YN had been comforted. She almost found herself getting lost in its warmth until she reminded herself of who she was with and stopped herself. Sensing her discomfort the betas rushed to speak again. “We have this small cottage in the back, it’s newly refurbished and has plumping and everything. All it would need is a bed.”

           “I don’t know if I would feel comfortable living with all seven of you...it’s a lot.”

           Yoongi sighed, “We understand, though it isn’t like you have much of a choice. No place will take a mated omega. The law won’t permit it. Only...” He didn’t have to finish for her to know what he meant.

           Only the boarding house.

           YN looked up at the men and spoke as clearly as she could, "I'm not your mate. I'm not your omega," she saw how every word was spoken physically deflated them. "However, thank you for helping me. It's only temporary until I find another solution." Something flashed quickly in both men's eyes, but it was far too fast for YN to comprehend what it was. They only smiled and nodded with jovial excitement. Jimin began to talk about furniture that would be added while Yoongi pulled out his phone and seemed to text someone. She realized her hand was still under his and tried to retrieve it, Yoongi didn't allow her too. Before YN could say anything he gave her hand a quick squeeze and released it. Putting his left hand into his jacket’s pocket.

           “So it’s set. We’ll be by later to pick up your things .”

           YN nodded feeling a numbness spreading throughout her body, as she finished her tea and placed the cup down. Her eyes met theirs, dark empty pools, and she wondered if their inner scale was tipped. Were they more animal than human? Beasts? YN would soon find out.

            “Swear you’ll be okay?” Rosé asked, her fingers intertwined into YN’s. They swung back and forth, their arms shaking slightly. The air was silent, save for the things left unsaid.

             "I'm sure. I'll be safe. They won't hurt me." The smile hurt YN, but she forced her lips to spread open for her best friend's sake. She couldn't possibly leave Rosé out for the wolves, even if it meant she would be jumping right into their den.  

           “Don’t forget to text me. Oh, and call me every night.”

YN rolled her eyes but laughed. "Yes, mom. I'll make sure to write you a letter every day."

           “For a year?”

        The two girls giggled and embraced as YN willed herself to stick to her word. Just as she was beginning to doubt herself, someone knocked on the door. When the door opened, it was Yoongi and Jimin again; both with smiles on their faces - ones a little too big to be done out of politeness. They stayed by the door, if they entered their scents would linger and that wouldn't look good on Rosé. Betas did have a scent, but unless they were purposefully trying to emit it, only other betas would sense it. "Are you ready to go?" Jimin spoke after he had waved at Rosé. YN nodded, grabbing her bags resting by the door and handing them off to the two waiting betas. Feeling like it would be a while until YN saw her again, she turned around and gave Rosé one last hug. Rosé leaned deep into their embrace and whispered into YN's ear, "If anything happens. Call me, I'll be there immediately."  

           Tears almost welled up in YN’s eyes but she fought them back, merely giving her a reassuring squeeze before walking out and closing the door.

           Wow, what a fucking house. YN's jaw slackened at the sight of it, though her parents were well off it hadn't compared to this. Then again, combining the wealth of seven of the richest families in Seoul was bound to bear its fruits. Judging by the smirk on the two men's faces, they enjoyed her reaction. So, she did her best to school it immediately. There hadn't been any words exchanged by the three of them in the car, thankfully, and YN hoped it would remain that way. Instead of taking her to the front entrance, Yoongi and Jimin guided her to the side of the house. It once they reached the backyard that her breath was truly taken away.  

           The area was huge with a swimming pool, patio area, and botanical garden. However, it was the tiny home in the back with a garden of lilies that called to her. “It’s like the one at school.” Was the first thing she noted. It wasn’t as large, but it seemed to have similar flowers and evoke the same feeling.

           “Do you like it?” Yoongi asked, looking at her from his peripheral.

           “I love it.” There was no hesitance in her words, they were sincere.

They guided her to the tiny house; which the closer she got wasn't so tiny at all. It was one floor with a large bed, a television mounted on the wall, a small closet, a kitchenette, and a bathroom. There was even a small bookcase filled with familiar books: they had been the assigned reading when she was in school. Probably filled with annotations and other such things. YN wished she still had her copies, but she had donated all but her favorites to school when she graduated.

           Jimin cleared his throat, “Sorry the closet isn’t bigger, but we can expand it later.” YN shook her head, “No, that’s alright. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Yoongi placed his hand on her shoulder, “Dinner will be served in about an hour. You can meet everyone then.” Meet them again. YN felt her throat dry up, she wasn’t sure about how she felt being a room with all seven of them just yet. She had wanted to delay the inevitable, but considering she was staying in their home - it was the least she could do.

           “Sure.”

The two of them seemed pleased at her lack of resistance. Jimin smiled, "Go get cleaned up and we'll come to pick you up when it's time." YN felt it was more of a command, then a suggestion but she didn't care. Once the two of them left, she jumped on the bed and decided to take a small nap. The pillow smelled fresh and clean, only lulling her faster into sleep.

       "I'm very sorry for what's occurred to you, YN. But I want you to know it isn't your fault and that we are here to help." Officer Kim sent a comforting smile, trying to ease YN's nerves. YN remained silent, her grip on the blue blanket thrown around her shoulders was so strong her fingers were white. The officer sighed, tilting her head slightly to send a look to the people behind the screen. When she looked back at YN, all she saw was the teenager's glassy widened eyes. It had been an accident, a terrible one, but teenagers tended to be reckless. If the gruesome bite on YN's neck was anything to show for it.  

           “Do you want to press charges?”

           YN shook her head, caving in on herself even more. Jungkook’s sorry wails still echoed in her head. It didn't matter, what's done is done. YN looked up to meet the officer Kim's warm golden eyes. Her lips parted and she could see the anticipation building up in the cop's face only for there to be a disappointment once YN actually spoke.

           “I just want to go home.”

           Loud knocking tore her away from her dreams, as she saw a shadow-like figure standing outside the doors.

         The door opened slowly, only once he'd stepped in could YN recognize him. "Sorry I didn't mean to startle you. I didn't know you were asleep." Kim Taehyung had probably undergone the most significant change out of all of them: transforming from a lanky teen to an able man. YN didn't realize she had been gaping at him so openly until he smirked. "Um, no don't worry." She scrambled to get off the bed and smooth down her clothes, getting rid of any creases her short sleep might have caused.  Taehyung tilted his head, his eyes roaming her body until they landed on her poorly concealed mark. YN flinched when he stepped forward, but instead of grabbing her Taehyung held out his hand.

           “Dinner is served and it’ll get cold if we wait any longer.”

            As attractive as he was, truthfully they all were, and as much as something inside her willed her to grab his hand - YN refused. Walking past him and outside the double doors to the garden of lilies. The sun had long set and now the half-moon shined brightly in the night sky. Casting a beautiful glow on the garden, the lilies, and YN herself. Perhaps, that is why it took Taehyung such a long time to step outside her room, the man still in the shadows. He was simply basking in her glory. Or perhaps, he was trying to control his rage at his mate's reaction in a way that would frighten the already tense YN.

           When he stepped out a charlatan smile was present on his features, “Let’s go then.” Together the two of them walked side by side until they reached the house. Faintly YN could hear the sound of jazz music and muffled voices, goosebumps rose on her arms as her stomach twisted and turned. Here we go. YN’s hands balled into fists as she dug her nails into her skin, trying to remain calm despite the voices growing louder and louder. Eventually, she could pick on the scent of one...two...four alphas and hear the soft bell-like nature of Jimin’s laugh. They were all here. Now’s the time.

          The conversations began to die down and YN knew it was because they sensed her. She prayed to whatever god's existed that everything would go well. They turned a corner and YN suddenly saw them. All seven of them were wearing what could be deemed business casual attire. They were all littered across the room, but all seemed to be in a circle surrounding a red velvet chesterfield where the lead alpha was seated. His dark hair combed back, a white button-down, and tight black jeans. One by one they all turned to face her, but he was last. His warm chocolate eyes lingering on the glass of wine in his hand before they slowly traveled to meet hers.

           YN finally realized what situation she was in. A prey in a predator's territory and sadly, she'd already been branded. She remained frozen on the spot, unable to look away from the alpha's eyes, she didn't know if it was courage or brazen recklessness. Then he smiled, a warm charming smile that reminded her of the early days. When the two would speak in hushed whispers and aid each other in assignments and tests. Times when YN looked at him with admiration, care, and maybe a tiny bit of love. She did have a small crush on him back in those days, nothing to act upon since she knew he was destined but enough to make her feel happy to be around him.

           He stood up and crossed the room, a steady stride which was a blend of natural yet calculated. As if he was measuring how close he could get without scaring her, it was when he was two feet away that YN slightly stepped back. The action caused him to stop, as he finally spoke.

           “Welcome. It’s been a while.”

Soon they all crowded around her offering kind smiles. Their scents were strangely muted now, YN guessed that was being done on purpose in order not to frighten her - or send her into a pseudo-heat. Not that it would occur considering the suppressants she was on. Conversations started back up again, but YN didn't participate in any. She noticed Jungkook was strangely quiet too but didn't pay him much attention for fear he might get the wrong idea. It was a couple of minutes later that a worker announced the food was served, YN went to follow him but someone tugged at her hand pulling her back.

           “Mind if we have a chat?” Namjoon asked, a hint of mirth in his smile.

           "Sure," YN noted how most of them walked away, Seokjin was the only one who remained but stayed near the threshold.  

           “Wow, you’ve changed. Grown, I mean.” His awkwardness caused a slight chuckle to escape YN’s lips. “Says the person who is now seven feet tall.” At that his smile grew. The glass of wine in his hand was placed on a top nearby and now that his hands were empty, Namjoon took a hold of hers. His large warm hands cradling hers, as his thumbs ran soothingly across her knuckles. “How do you feel?” YN didn’t know why she was so at ease around Namjoon, maybe because they’d known each other before everything happened. He had demonstrated that he was a good person, who had simply made a mistake. As opposed to the other’s who she only knew vaguely and had been forced to get to know because of what happened.

           “Fine. Good.” YN smiled gently, her heart didn’t race as it did before but she felt comfortable around Namjoon in a way she didn’t around the others. It might’ve been that he was the leader: the one who could make everyone fall in line at his command. It might’ve been that she trusted him. YN didn’t want to dwell on it for too long. “Thank you for letting me stay.” She spoke to both him and Seokjin who straightened up.

           “It’s no problem, YN. Your welcome as long as you’d like.” Seokjin’s words were polite and YN was thankful he didn’t mention anything about mates. In fact, she hoped the whole conversation would be avoided the entire evening.

           Namjoon drew her attention back to him, “What’s ours is yours. Whatever you need, don't be afraid to tell us.” Before YN could say anything, he pulled her towards the exit. “Come. Everyone is waiting for us.” He sent her a flirty wink before Seokjin joined them, walking on her other side.

            “So YN, what did you study?” Hoseok wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

           “Sociology.”

           “Sounds interesting. Did you like it?”

           “Yeah, it was interesting.” YN wasn’t the most social person, not to mention she found it difficult to speak when all eyes were on her.

           “Did you get the flowers we sent for your graduation?” Taehyung asked, beside her. He was less intimidating in the warm yellow lighting of the dining room. Ah the flowers. Her parents had delivered the flowers when they went to visit and though YN had been all smiles, she’d thrown them in the trash the second she’d gotten back home.

           “Yes, they were lovely. Thank you.”

           It all seemed too perfect, too surreal, nothing bad had occurred yet and it had YN on the edge of her seat. This wasn’t how she was expecting the night to go at all. It had been years since the incident and though YN was aware that people could change, they seemed so different. People are different during heats. It’s more animal instinct than anything. That may be true, but it felt like she was at a reunion rather than a dinner with her supposed ‘mates.’ It seems the jovial atmosphere was beginning to be too much for someone else because Jungkook finally broke.

           “Aren’t we going to talk about it?!” His hands slammed down against the table, causing everyone to turn and look at him. Jungkook was near the end of the table, right next to Seokjin which faced Namjoon at the head. Talk about what? It seemed his question was more intended for his pack members than for her, but it still left YN curious. Seokjin who seemed unfazed continued cutting his meat, “Kookie, stop it.” This seemed to only anger the youngest more.

           “No, we agreed -” Just as Jungkook was standing up, Hoseok pulled him back down to his chair. Oh no. Alpha’s butting heads was never a good sign. She might’ve assumed this was normal but seeing how tense Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jimin were this was clearly unusual. The sudden growl that Jungkook let out was all the proof she needed.

           Adrenaline began to pump through her blood, as her instincts were about to kick in. If there was going to be a fight, she wanted no part in it. It was then that Taehyung and Jimin both placed their hands on her knees, keeping her still.

           “Calm down, Jungkook. Stop being a brat.” Seokjin scolded him once more, his jaw now locked. The young alpha wasn’t listening, didn’t care to. Suddenly all his attention zeroed in on YN as he spoke. “We have to complete the mating bond.” Anxiety began to trickle into YN’s mind and body. No. no. no. no.

           “No.” YN pushed the chair away from the table and stood ready to walk out and leave the house. She should have known better than to trust them. This had been their plan all along, to get her into a situation where she couldn’t escape. As she passed by Namjoon his hand shot out, gripping her wrist, tugging her towards him. The lead alpha had remained silent during the whole ordeal, as YN looked at him with irritation. Namjoon spoke in a calm mellow tone, “Down.” Just like that Jungkook dropped to his knees and began to cry.

           “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” Now YN was even more terrified. What the fuck is going on.

    Rosé: Hey, how’d your first day go?

    YN: Terrible, I don’t even want to talk about it.

     Rosé: Did something bad happen? Did they do something to you?

     Rosé: Are you okay?

     YN: I’m okay. Things are just really strange here. I don’t know how to describe it.

     YN: It's like everyone's on edge, but they're pretending they aren't.

     Rosé: I mean isn’t that kinda normal. You are their mate and you did reject them, so it makes sense.

      Rosé: You never did tell me why you rejected them though.

      YN: It’s a long story and I’m tired. Ttyl. Night.

      Rosé: Good night.

Hope you enjoyed the story. Tag list is in the comments.

[local-ground-apple]

Ace - yeah the red thing is just ketchup

Humans are greedy and they wish to play gods. Ace thought nothing could surprise him anymore in his after-life as grim reaper, yet your defiant soul seeking eternal life managed to make him stunned. 

warnings: mentions of blood//murder, but nothing to explicit, reader is a duke//duchess

,,It’s…It’s impossible! A mere human can’t….CAN’T refuse to give me their soul! You..You don’t have such power”

Ace’s voice faltered slightly, as he stared at your way too lively form to his liking. You shouldn’t even be conscious. He shook his head, praying it was only a nightmare.

That your dead body was laying on the cold surface next to your “supposed” lover instead of twirling around from excitement.

That your soul was collected by him, instead of peacefully residing inside your ring.

That your figure wasn’t adorned in scarlet.

But no.

You were standing in front of him with a danger and pure excitement glinting in your eyes, as wide grin graced your bloody lips. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes.

Perhaps you were even more stunned than grim reaper that came to collect your soul. You didn’t even spare a mere glance at the body laying on the cold surface.

,,Oh, he was the one I killed?”

You asked innocently, yet you both knew it was a rhetorical question. Your index finger gently tapped your cheek, as if you were trying to remember how exactly you murdered the duke with a cold blood.

You looked almost innocent in Ace’s eyes.

Dressed in pure white, as your hair gently adorned your face. Your eyes glinted with mix of emotions, as your bare feet gently walked through the corridor in his direction.

Yet, Ace wasn’t stupid.

Wide grin, lips adorned with blood and clothes stained with scarlet, as you gently played with the ring containing your soul between your fingers, told him otherwise.

You weren’t innocent.

And he needed someone stronger to take you down.

,,G-give me your soul and I will let your spirit wander, without telling anyone”

Ace wanted to slap himself for showing vulnerability. You smirked, hearing how his voice faltered. His eyes avoided yours, as he gripped his scythe harder, yet he knew it was useless. He couldn’t possibly hurt you with it. Ace visibly paled, even though he was long dead.

You swiftly walked closer to him, leaning so your hair gently brushed his cheek. Your fingers softly traveled up his chest, as you seemed to savor his look of disbelief and widen eyes staring at you with pure confusion. You raised your other hand with oh-so-wanted ring, practically letting Ace look at it more closely.

,,You want this, right?”

,,It’s a wise decision duke//duchess “

Ace tried to plead you into handing him a ring willingly, yet you shook your head playfully.

,,Non, je veux le monde ou rien du tout”

Perhaps Ace should have followed his lessons when he was an alive aristocrat, before he became a grim reaper. He frowned and his hand abruptly tried to snatch a ring from your fingers, yet you were faster than him.

Your withdrew your hand, hiding it behind your back. Ace’s eyes widen at the sudden strength you seemed to acquire after your death. He furrowed his eyebrows, when he tried to forcefully tear it from you, yet to no avail.

What did you do to yourself?

He wasn’t sure if he was ready to hear the exact answer.

,,I can only offer you a bloody kiss”

You whispered, as your thumb traced over his lips, smearing blood. If Ace was alive, his lips would twitch in disgust and he would jump at the mere contact.

What did you do to yourself to rest between death and life?

What rules did you break?

,,Don’t stare at me like this, it’s not my blood”

You stated, cheerfully gigging as you titled your head.

As if that was supposed to make him feel better.

Did you have to kill that duke and then yourself in order to grant yourself eternal life? To separate your soul from your body? 

Ace was fully aware of humans trying to play gods and pursuing their bizarre research often entailing immoral actions. Riddle despised them, yet he was sure none of them could ever go that far.

You were the first.

The first to exchange soul for a soul.

Blood for blood.

Death for life.

You were the first to conduct such exchange successfully.

Ace couldn’t believe his eyes, as he shamelessly stared at you, while waiting for Cater and Riddle to arrive. You licked your bloody lips and the mere gesture almost make him sick.

Red was everywhere.

Duke’s deathly pale body was covered in scarlet, as the big pool of blood from his wound contrasted with a cold floor. Your white clothes contrasted with scarlet droplets spread all over them, as the reddish liquid was slowly oozing from the clean cut on your neck.

You were even able to end with yourself elegantly and quickly.

Yeah, pretend the red thing is just ketchup, Ace said to himself, his eyes finally leaving your form.

,,How come that it’s always aristocracy who wants to play gods?”

Cater’s stern voice made Ace for a brief moment shift his attention from you on his fellow senior. Yet his eyes still lingered on your form sitting on the roof. Your snow white clothes were adorned with scarlet droplets belonging not only to you. 

,,Cause we’re the only one who can achieve anything”

You said with a bit too cheerful voice to Ace’s liking, which only made Riddle grip his death scythe more firmly. His flushed cheeks from pure anger running through his veins and indifferent glare didn’t spell anything good.

,,It’s the first time I’ve ever seen something like this”

Cater muttered, carefully scanning your figure, while Riddle could only nod. Three grim reapers were probably never as stunned as now. 

,,It’s…It’s completely against the rules! Any human or divine rules!”

Riddle’s patience seemed to be wearing thin. He couldn’t possibly comprehend what exactly had you done to yourself and more importantly what they were supposed to do with you.

,,Can you hand us your soul?”

Cater asked again and you simply shook your hand with a wide grin adorning your lips. Cater didn’t understand why couldn’t they forcefully tear it from you.

,,Well, I didn’t expect the soul to stay with me, even now”

You answered, staring at the ring on your finger. Seeking eternal life entailed great sacrifices, you were willing to make.

One of them was giving up your soul.

Yet, it seemed that your soul wasn’t keen on leaving you alone. It sticked to it and refused to be taken. Something you certainly haven’t anticipated. 

Your eyes landed on Riddle, who seemed to be the chef of this small group of grim reapers. It seemed they couldn’t forcefully take your soul, you could only hand it willingly.

Yet the dangerous spark glinting in Cater’s eyes, Ace’s grim glare and Riddle’s menacing voice were telling you to keep the graciously spared soul to yourself.

,,Still, duke//duchess is no longer human nor a spirit”

Riddle stated calmly, crouching down to your level. The initial anger and disbelief disappeared and you were greeted with cold and meticulous stare which seemed to pierce through your form.

,,Now, I wonder what should we do with a being devoid of a soul, hmmm”

It’s probably the weirdest thing I had written here, but well!  

[ka-za-ri]

Personal Assistant Pt. 4

Oh hey there. I’m surprised you’re still here. I guess it’s time for some more kinky smut. If you’ve been waiting for demon sex, here it is! *Will Smith poses* Can I get a Hell yeah! If you’re into that? Taglist at the end

Part 1: here Part 2: here Part 3: here Part 5: here Part 6: here Part 7: here Crossposted on Ao3: here

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader Wordcount: 4,800 ish Genre: Filthy fucking. Tags: Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Toys, body worship, demon sex, knotting, floor sex, brief cunnilingus Summary: After getting your numbers back up, it's time to discuss a pay raise and maybe grace you with some new knowledge.

Pay Raise

Humans only ever believed what they saw; and Lucifer planned to make you a believer. 

The problematic tendencies you had fallen into were quickly corrected. Through sheer force of your willpower alone, you managed to bring your numbers back up within a month and a half. It was no easy task as Lucifer still loved to start his weekends with a little after work rendezvous. So, drastic changes needed to be made quickly to keep him satisfied. While on the clock, you were laser focused, pushing back every lewd thought you had, letting your body react while your mind worked. You needed to separate and compartmentalize work from pleasure. If Lucifer could do it, you could do it too.  Seeing your improvement come about so quickly had him pleasantly surprised and the discussion of a proper pay raise needed to be had. 

He had gone in and scheduled another meeting with him at the end of the day a couple months after your performance review. Like the last time, it would take  up the last couple of hours you had on the clock and you expected it to last a few hours past that as well. Surprisingly, he had sent you an email just as you started to wrap up your work to remind you of your meeting. When you opened it up and saw the message, you couldn’t help but smile a little. It was so him.

Make sure you’re properly prepared for the meeting and be on time. 

To anyone else, the words on your screen would seem like a mundane reminder to bring something to write with and to be punctual for your meeting. However, everything Lucifer did had a purpose and you knew the underlying meaning of his succinct message. Understanding what you had to do, you rushed the last bit of work you had to accomplish. He wanted you to be prepared and that meant that you needed a few extra minutes before the meeting to ensure both your holes were empty and ready to be used as he saw fit. 

You stared at the bathroom mirror, face warm from seeing your most intimate parts reflected in it while you pulled the toys of the day out. You carefully washed them with warm water, even if it was getting dangerously close to the appointed time, it would be a shame if you couldn’t properly care for the precious gifts Lucifer graced you with. Everything he handed you felt sacred, and to disrespect him by not ritualistically washing and drying your toys after use left you feeling guilty. If you arrived a little late because of that, you hoped he would show mercy. Likely not… but it’s not that bad to get punished...

When you stepped back out onto the main office space, you noticed that it was significantly darker than usual. Normally, the room would be glowing a warm orange from the setting sun as the day drew to a close. However, during the time you were in the bathroom, he had drawn all the shades to block out the light. A gray gloom fell over the two of you and you suddenly felt an inkling of fear crawl up your spine. 

He was staring off into the distance, facing the windows as if he was watching the city. But, with the shades down, he was really looking at nothing. He seemed to be deep in thought while he waited for you to arrive. 

Today would be the ultimate  test of your trust in him. 

“I’m here for the 3 o’clock meeting, Lucifer.” You spoke up after the silence between the two of you grew too heavy for you to bear. 

“Right on time. Take a seat.” He didn’t turn to see you, his gaze and demeanor rather distant. 

The fear you felt earlier came back. Your mind raced, wondering if you had disappointed him somehow. The somber mood only made you worry that he was gearing up for the ‘you’re fired’ talk. The last time a meeting like this happened, you had found yourself sitting on his cock for hours while he rattled on about reports. You could only pray that this meeting would somehow have the same outcome. 

“My apologies for the darkness. I’ve had a bit of a headache and the light makes it worse.” He explained, finally putting your worries at ease and he moved to his seat at his desk. “I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Not at all. I hope you’ll overcome it quickly.” You smiled softly, glad to know that he was still susceptible to the typical aches and pains of a normal human. Even if he seemed to be a supernatural being at times with how composed he was, you knew he was still human deep down. “What would you like to talk about?” 

“Numbers.” Lucifer stated plainly, pulling out your file. “It’s been a rather busy month for you, has it not? I would like to check in.” 

“Well, you know how it is during this time of the year. Everyone is trying to get all the supplies they need for school and orders are flying off the shelves faster than some of our facilities can fulfill them.” 

He nodded, writing something down on a separate notebook he kept at the side of his desk while you spoke. “Yes, the hiring and training set up a few months prior helped; but, nothing really prepared us to experience such growth in such a short amount of time.” 

“It was an unexpected spike, but if I remember correctly, marketing has also been working on expanding the network of advertisements on all platforms. Your reach is a lot larger than it ever has been.” 

“And even with all this new work, you managed to bring your numbers up as I had asked you to. Very good.” He pointed out the improved data and compared the past two months to the time he had last spoken to you about your dip in performance.”Now that you’re on top of things, I expect you to stay there. You’re on track to keeping those numbers up and I’d like to see you stay diligent, even when things get slower.” He paused, letting you take in the information before he moved to the next point he wanted to get to. “I’m very proud to see that you’ve kept up with everything despite the sudden growth and spike in work. It might be time for a pay raise, don’t you think?”

You blinked, not expecting to have this kind of talk until you had been with the company for at least a year and a half. To have it brought up just a little over six months in your tenure felt too short; yet the pride you felt from meeting his expectations overrode any discomfort you had. “I’m happy with whatever decision you make.” You said truthfully. 

“Well, with higher pay comes higher expectations. Do you think you can live up to them?” 

“Guide me, and I’ll do whatever it is you need.” you replied confidently. It didn’t matter if the request pertained to work or your after hour services. You were willing to go to Hell and back for this man. Normally, you would have been alarmed to be this loyal to someone you had only met half a year ago; but having spent so much time around him, you knew you could count on him no matter what decision he made. 

“Do you trust me?” The question felt a little odd, but not entirely out of place.

“Absolutely.” 

He gauged your reaction, searching for any fault in your confidence. Your heart beat fast as the silence stretched on and he tested the waters even further. Finally he broke eye contact with you and got up from his desk, he beckoned you to follow him to a larger, emptier space. “If you trust me as you say you do, then do not be afraid.” 

You struggled to understand what he was saying. For a moment you felt like you couldn’t see properly, Lucifer’s entire being seemed to disappear behind a haze and shift dramatically. Blinking rapidly to try to fix whatever was going on with your eyes; you tried to get a better look at him again. Once your vision cleared, Lucifer’s image was no longer the one you were used to seeing on a day to day basis. Yelping in surprise, you fell back, trying to comprehend what just happened. 

“Do not be afraid.” 

“I’m not… I’m not scared.” you stuttered. This image, this version of him was familiar to you. As shocking as it was to see now, there was a sense of familiarity. You knew this version of him as an illusion; but, for many times as you blinked, he remained the same. The great horns that crowned his head and the massive wings that surrounded him didn’t go away no matter how hard you rubbed your eyes and shook your head in disbelief. 

You thought back to the night you signed your contract, how you had sworn you saw something in the reflection of the window. That red glint in his eyes you had thought was a trick of the light was actually natural. What you thought had been an illusion had been his true form all along. 

Even his clothes had changed to fit this form of his. He was swathed in a long black and red tailcoat that fit snugly over the tailored suit he wore. The embroidered design on the coat and at his collar made your heart flutter. It matched the necklace he had given you months prior. The red that lined the coat and the capelet on his shoulders were an exact match to the lipstick you wore. All along, signs of his true self had been all around you and you hadn’t noticed a thing.

Everything clicked at once in your brain. His name, the contract, the sway he had over you. You had willingly made a deal to work with the devil himself. That realization should have had you screaming for mercy and for a return of your soul; yet that thought never crossed your mind. All you could think of was just how magnificent he was. 

You wanted to get up, but your body seemed to lack the strength to hold you upright. He stood still, watching your every move. Even if you claimed you weren’t scared, your body wouldn’t stop shaking in the wake of his demonic form. He waited patiently for you to gather your wits, knowing how shocked you must be to realize this reality. Lucifer was almost ashamed that he had shown his true form to you without much warning. However; there was no delicate way to go about it, and there were needs that he wanted to sate which could only be accomplished in his true form. 

“This… this is all real…” You breathed, finally at least getting enough strength back to get on your knees. “I’m not dreaming?” 

He stepped closer to you so you could clutch onto his clothes and pull yourself back up. “Does it feel real to you?” He asked softly, his gaze never leaving you as you struggled like a newly born lamb to stand again.

“Very real.” You determined once you were back on your feet and able to gaze directly into his eyes. He’s beautiful. Carefully, you reached up to touch his face, stroking his soft skin and his silky hair. The familiarity of his warm skin under your fingers brought a calm over your body. Still, it was hard to believe and your touches tracked upwards towards his horns. “May I?” You asked tentatively before you touched them. 

“You may.” He permitted, tilting his head to the side so you could properly touch them. You gently ran your hand through the ribbed texture of the hard horns, marveling at their sheen and how smooth they were. It was easy to be entranced by the unique curved shape they formed and you spent several minutes mindlessly tracing them from where they sprouted from his skull to their pointed tips. He stayed perfectly still for you the whole time, letting you soak it all in. Carefully standing on tiptoe, you placed a soft kiss on them, leaving red lipstick marks across them. He subdued a shudder, but let you continu, allowing you to explore him in a rare show of vulnerability. 

“May I…” You started to ask again, distracted by his wings which fluttered softly whenever your touches tickled his senses just right. You reached out to them, wondering if they were as soft as they looked. 

“You may.” he said softly, giving you permission to walk around him and caress the dark feathers. The ensemble he wore was so cleverly made, allowing his wings full range of motion while also being easy to remove thanks to some carefully hidden buckles and ties which nestled at the base of each pair of his wings. You traced the line his spine made, barely brushing past the feathery appendages. You couldn’t see his expression from where you were, but you could feel his muscles tense. Lucifer didn’t stop you though, letting you carry on and examine his body as you needed. 

Your fingers traced the feathers, amazed at how they shimmered in the dim light, refracting bits of green and gold whenever they fluttered. The right at the base, the softest black down sprouted from his skin and flowed into the wings. Burying your fingers there, you sighed in content, loving the velvety texture of the small feathers as they tickled your hand. Lucifer visibly shivered, the base of his wings were particularly sensitive. The way you caressed them so gently sent jolts of pleasure right to his groin. He couldn’t stop you though, not when you were stroking those sensitive spots so innocently in your inspection of his demon form. He couldn’t bring himself to ruin the moment with his growing hard on. You heard him take deep breaths, calming his body as he stayed still for you. 

You circled around to him again, wide-eyed and blushing. He trusted you enough to show you this. Out of all the people in the world, you were the one privileged with the knowledge of what your boss truly looked like. 

“Are you afraid?” he asked once you were in front of him. 

“No…” You answered softly, placing a hesitant kiss on your lips. “You’re beautiful.” 

He liked your answer, responding to your kiss and deepening it. Lucifer pulled your close, his hand resting at the back of your head and keeping you flush against him. You could feel his hard cock press against your thigh and the intimacy of the moment was heightened. The kisses you shared were uncharacteristically soft, as if he was holding back his real desires from you. You were so used to him simply taking anything he wanted from you that the gentleness had your mind swimming in the most pleasant way. “If… I may…” You said breathlessly once the kisses broke. You placed your finger on the clasps that held his capelet in place, and patiently waited for his permission. 

“Yes, you may.” 

You smiled softly; there was nothing but adoration in your eyes as you worked his clothes off of him. The capelet fell away with little effort. The buttons to his tailcoat came next. He assisted you in undoing the buckles and ties at his back. Once those were undone, the rest of the garment came off with ease. All the ornate accessories he wore were carefully removed and placed on the desk. Everything you touched was sacred. Everything your hand passed was blessed to be in his presence and you were the one privileged enough to have the pleasure of taking it off of him. 

Each piece of clothing landed on the floor in a pile next to the two of you. After the long coat came his gloves which hid long, red nails underneath. You blushed when you noticed that once again, it was the same shade of red you wore every day on your lips. You made quick work of the skin tight undershirt he wore; the last thing that stood before you and his bare skin. Once that joined the rest of his clothes on the floor, you were free to explore him again as you wished. 

You didn’t even ask permission this time. It was the first time he had ever allowed you to remove this many clothes off of him. The treat of seeing his whole torso bare and framed by those magnificent black wings of his was practically a religious experience. You couldn’t help but want to kiss every inch of his skin. Your hand traced the toned muscles of his abs, trailing up to his chest where his nipples were. Keeping eye contact with him, you ran your tongue across them, watching how hard it was for him to keep his composure the whole time. You wanted to spend every second he allowed worshiping the perfect specimen in front of you. Taking his nipple in between your teeth, you swiped your tongue across it, gaining a hiss which turned into a soft moan. He laced his hands into your hair, encouraging you to keep going. Your hand joined your tongue at his chest, pinching and teasing his other nipple.

Your free hand moved down lower to the bulge at his pants and stroked him through the fabric. You would get there in due time; but your focus was on what was already revealed and you hadn’t had enough of that yet. Kissing across his chest, you sucked at his other nipple, moaning softly against his skin, you let the vibrations from that noise aide in pleasuring him. “Very good…” He murmured softly, his hands still laced in your hair and tugging at it slightly. “You may continue…” 

At his request, you knelt down, coming face to face with his crotch and you swallowed. He stopped you before you got to working his belt off of him. “I… I will have changed there too.” he warned. 

“I will not be afraid.” You reassured, deftly unbuckling his belt and tossing it to the side. You took your time in undoing the button and the zipper. The anticipation of what he was hiding was making you wet. How would it feel to be filled with this version of Lucifer? How would your pussy like his demon cock? You licked your lips unconsciously as you pulled the zipper down and revealed the outline of his cock pressed up against his boxers. Seeing the tantalizing silhouette of what was to come made you eagerly pull the rest of his pants off and tossing it on top of the ever growing pile of clothes. In a moment of awkward maneuvering when you struggled to get his pants past his ankles, Lucifer also assisted you in taking off his socks and shoes. 

He only had his boxers left before he was completely nude. Even if you were excited to see what his cock looked like, you wanted to still show appreciation to what you had unveiled. Kissing up his thighs, you breathed deeply to take in his scent. His unique musk hadn’t changed at all. He was still the Lucifer you knew and trusted. Lovingly, you nuzzled the massive package he sported at his crotch. A bead of precum soaked through the fabric and you lapped at it Getting a taste of him, you smiled to yourself, noticing that his unique flavor was also the same as it had always been. 

Embracing his thighs, you hungrily groped his clothed ass while you licked up and down his shaft through the fabric of his boxers. Your saliva wet the fabric, enhancing the outline of his cock even more, molding it to every ridge and bump. By the time you were ready to take off his boxers, it was soaked by your drool and a mixture of his cum. 

Getting to the final reveal of his cock was better than you had ever expected. It was a magnificent thing. Long and hard, it curved upwards with deep ridges running all along the length. At the base, an impressive muscular knot bulged and pulsed which then seamlessly lead down to his balls. You couldn’t help but trace your finger along every detail, marveling at it and fantasizing about taking it all in you. Part of you wanted to also run your tongue across his length, but his hand in your hair stopped you before you could take the tapered tip into your mouth. Above you, you heard Lucifer hiss in pleasure, thrusting into your touches, just as eager as you were to get to the best part of the evening. “No. Not this time.” He said firmly; and you obliged, only touching him with your fingers until he couldn’t take it anymore. 

The pile of clothes you made served to be an excellent cushion against the cold floor. He laid you on top, smiling devilishly now that you had your fill. “Now… it’s my turn.” He said. “May I?” 

“Yes… You may.” You said, already lifting your skirt up and spreading your legs wide for him. 

It took no effort at all for his sharp nails to cut through the thin fabric of your panties. Truthfully, he wanted to rip all your clothes off of you; but then that would make your journey back home rather problematic. So, he had to settle for the pleasure of tearing your panties to shreds, exposing your soaking pussy to the cool air. It was his turn to lick his lips and savor the beautiful sight before him. 

Dipping down between your legs, he licked at your labia, lapping up your essence and taking in your unique scent. The feeling of his hot tongue playing at your sensitive folds was mind blowing and your hands flew to his head between your legs, gripping the horns hard to encourage him to go further. You could hear him chuckle, his body shaking slightly in the action and he complied, if only a little bit. He pressed the flat of his tongue across your slit, parting it open to freely lap at your juices and stopped to swirl the tip of his tongue at your clit making your whine and grip at his horns even harder. 

You didn’t realize just how strong your grip on his horns had been until he had to pry your aching fingers off of them as soon as he was satisfied with tasting you. “Are you afraid?” He asked, pulling away from you to line the tip of his cock at your entrance. Just feeling the tip part your lips had you quivering in anticipation. 

“No.” You reassured him. “I want you… all of you.” 

He took his time entering you, wanting you to feel every detail of his cock as it slid into you. You arched your back, already writhing in pleasure at the first inch. He filled you in a way you never felt before. No human cock or toy could ever replicate the sensations he was giving you.You could feel everything, every curve and ridge of his glorious dick as he entered you. The girth of it was perfect, stretching you full while the length and curvature of his cock rubbed against your g-spot with every inch that entered you. “You will have all of me… soon.” He promised. “But first. Let’s see how you handle me like this.” 

His pace was slow at first, making sure not to hurt you as you became accustomed to being fucked by his demonic cock. Every pass was a new experience in sensations. You clawed fruitlessly at the tiles on the floor as you gasped his name with every thrust he gave you. This had to be what it felt like to be in heaven. If you could choose a god to pray to, it would be Lucifer and his cock would be the temple you worshiped at. 

You could still tell he was being careful with you; and that wouldn’t do. As much as you appreciated this soft side of him, you knew the control he craved. “Take… Take me.” You begged. “Use me as you like…” 

At your request, something in him snapped and the languid pace he first set was broken in favor of a rougher and faster one. A pace that could satisfy a demon. Your insides clenched and fluttered erratically, not sure how to take the brutal fucking he was giving you. As your mind short-circuited, you vaguely felt him lift your leg up, propping it on his shoulder to get better leverage. 

And that was the moment you saw stars. Every trust was pure bliss, you were cumming uncontrollably around his cock, spasming and begging for more at the same time. His sharp nails dug into your flesh, adding yet another layer of sensations for you to experience. The top of his hard knot caught at your entrance with the new angle and you could feel your cunt stretch out even more to accept him. 

Tears streamed freely down your face as you lost count of how many times his cock had made you orgasm. Yet you still hadn’t felt his knot buried in you yet. “Lucifer… please.. I want all of you…” You whined. You weren’t sure how many more times you could cum before you passed out. At least before that happened, you wanted to experience fully accepting him. 

He slowed down to almost a full stop and let you take a few deep breaths. As you calmed your body down from the high of so many orgasms back to back, he pushed further into you. You had thought the incessant stretch you felt from the top of his knot when he was fucking you would be the worst of it; but you were sorely mistaken. “Keep breathing... “ he said, coaching you into slow, even breaths while he continued to cram his whole length into you. “In and out… just like that… You will have all of me soon.” 

He reached up to your face, brushing stray strands of hair away, watching your expression change from one of strained discomfort to one of pleasure as his knot finally slipped all the way into you, snug and tight at your entrance. “Very good…” He praised, kissing you softly and letting your mind process what you had just done. 

Looking down, seeing your pussy stuffed so full with his cock, his knot pulsed in need and he slowly rutted into you, his eyelids fluttering at being engulfed in your heat. The image of your cunt stretched and strained around his massive member for the first time would be burned into his memory forever. As soon as he felt your body fully relax into the experience, he started to rut into you harder, rocking back and forth in short burst, making you scream his name while he chased his release that was so close 

“Who do you belong to?” He asked breathlessly, sweat plastering his hair to his face. His whole body tensed, waiting for your answer. As soon as he had it, he knew it would be the end for him. 

“You! You do, Sir!” You screamed, arching your back and shuddering at being so filled. 

“Who?” He growled, digging his nails into your thighs and leaving deep marks on your skin. 

“L-Lucifer!” You yelled, you voice hoarse from all the lewd sounds you had made that night. 

That was it, that was what broke him. With one last trust, he pushed himself into you as deeply as he could, filling you with his seed, cum seeming to endlessly stream out of him in spurts. He bent over you, biting you at the juncture of your neck and collarbone, his fangs breaking skin and drawing blood. He lapped greedily at it, memorizing the unique tang to your blood and finally, was satiated in a way he hadn’t been in years. 

Your whole body collapsed onto the pile of clothes at your final orgasm, your vision becoming white for a few moments before you slowly drifted back into reality. He continued to empty himself into you in spurts, his seed overflowed and seeped down your thighs, but you didn’t care. 

“And the pact has been made…” He murmured softly, laying down at your side, protectively wrapping his wings around you. 

“Does that mean you have my soul now?” You asked tiredly. You could feel yourself drifting and wondered if you could take a small nap before taking the last train home. 

“Would you like to have it back?” 

“No.” You said confidently, snuggling up against him, making him hiss in pleasure as your body shifted and he was still buried inside of you. “I signed a contract with you a long time ago if I remember correctly.” 

“That’s right. You were mine all along.” He said chuckling softly and holding you close.

He never needed to make a believer out of you. You had believed him all along.

Taglist: @ptv-hades

[thecleverdame]

Gods of Twilight - 23

Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Human!Reader

Master List 

Summary: You marry Sam, The King of Lebanon, as part of an alliance between two lands. You soon discover that nothing is as it appears and that your husband is hiding a secret that may end your relationship before it can begin.

Warnings: smut, dub-con, canon-level violence, domestic discipline, spanking.  This chapter does contain some non-con elements.

Beta:  @ilikaicalie​

*This story is complete. All 27 chapters are available on Patreon. To get access to this and many other stories, subscribe for a pledge of 2.50 per month. CLICK HERE

-

“I’m sorry,” you plead into his neck as he briskly carries you toward your bedchambers. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s alright.” His words are understanding but his tone is something else. He’s holding back, practically shaking with rage but managing to keep himself under control for your sake.  

And who could blame him? Dean. If Sam hadn’t appeared when he did who knows what you would have done. The very notion makes you sick to your stomach. Dean. Of all people. He loathes you and yet the way he stared at you...

“What’s wrong with me?” You look your husband in the eyes as he kicks the door shut behind him. “I woke up in that horrible place and then found your bother. I swear to you I’ve never been unfaithful, I just...I don’t understand.” Your mind is a swirl of contradictory thoughts and urges. “Why would I react like that to him. I don’t-”

“Stop,” he commands. You’re silent as he carefully sets you on the bed then kneels on the ground before you, one hand on each of your thighs. “There is much I need to tell you, that I need to explain. What you must know right now is that you are like me. You’re a shifter and the way you feel, that hunger, is your first heat. The pain, the cramping and burning inside you is your body searching for a mate.”

“I am…a wolf?” you whisper, scarcely able to comprehend what he’s telling you. How? When? “But, I don’t...how? Dean said I had a daughter. I want to see her. Can I see her, Sam?”

“As soon as you’ve calmed down you can see her and hold her.” He reaches up, tucking hair behind your ear as tears shine in his eyes. “She’s waited a long time for her mother, we both have.”

“How long?” you ask, grabbing the meat of his shoulder. “How long was I down there? How old is she?”

“She’s nearly a year,” Sam confirms, eyes darting downward.

“What? A year...” you sputter, unable to wrap your head around this new fact. “She must be so big. I want to see her now!”

“You will, but we have to be sure you’re of sound mind.”

You are confused but more than anything you’re scared. So much has happened and it’s clear you don’t know the half of it. If all this has changed, what else is there?

“What happened to me? And why can’t I remember any of it?”

“The birth of our daughter was traumatic to say the least. You were injured in an attack and when she was born you tore. You died and came back to life. For a long time you didn’t remember anything, including me. And now here we are.” Sam looks so forlorn that it makes your heart ache inside your chest. You’ve both been through more than anyone should.

“I can’t see her yet because I’m a wolf...and I might hurt her?”

“Yes.”

“What’s her name?”

Sam offers a sad little smile that lets you see the true extent of pure exhaustion and despair that has tortured him these last months.  

“She doesn’t have one. I couldn’t name her without you.” He cups your face with two hands, leaning forward to place a simple kiss on your lips. “I call her my love and that’s been enough.”

“Is she healthy? Happy?”

“No little girl has ever been more of either. Martha looks after her most of the time and we have help from others, from the pack.”

You can’t imagine that you have a daughter, a girl who’s probably walking before she’s ever met her mother. You have many questions about this last year, a lot you need to know but right now the sickly pit in your stomach is taking precedence.

“You’re in pain?” Sam asks, already knowing the answer.

“Yes,” you wince, folding forward. “It’s getting worse. It’s stronger than it was before. Is something wrong with me?”

“No, you’re going to be fine. It’s natural.”

“Will it always be like this?” You look up in horror. “I feel as if I’m dying.”

“Not always. Once you’re claimed and mated, it’ll become less intense. As long as we’re together your heat will be abated. No pain, just a need that requires fulfillment.”

Another wave rolls through your body as you gasp, rocking back and forth, gritting your teeth to get through it.

“We shouldn’t wait any longer,” he gives your knee a squeeze before standing up. “Take off your dress.”

“I’m filthy,” you protest as he pulls his shirt over his head, horrified by the idea of anyone seeing you like this.

“I don’t care.” He shrugs.

“Well, I do care. In fact, I care very much.” You let the dress fall to the floor, leaving you naked, covered in dirt and grime. “Look at me. I don’t want to be with you like this. I might be an animal but I will protect my dignity.”

“Then I’ll wash you.”

“Why don’t we call for a bath?”

“That will take time, do you want to wait?” He raises a brow, bringing a basin of water to the bed. “I want to take care of you. Let me.”

Your husband, the king, and Alpha, drops to his knees once again. He wets a cloth in the basin of water and begins to wipe you clean, starting with your feet and working his way upward. By the time he’s between your thighs the cramps return and you lie back, allowing him to scrub until you’re relatively clean.

“What will happen now?” you whisper as he hovers above you, one giant hand spread over your naked belly.  He’s already hard, his manhood looks painfully stiff and is poking at your hip.

“Now you will take my knot, and all the pain will go away.”

“Are you sure you want me?” Your voice is a fractured whisper. “After what happened, and what I’ve done-”

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. I thought my heart was rotting in my chest. I’ve never wanted anything more than the way I want you now. There will be plenty of time to talk later. Let me make your pain go away.”

The first few kisses are hesitant as you reacclimate yourselves to one another. His tongue glides along your bottom lip as he settles himself between your legs. Despite drowning in a sea of new sensations you can clearly recognize that your body is different than it used to be. Your skin tingles where he’s touching you, every inch of him laid over you, making you sizzle with pleasure and excitement for what’s to come.

You moan into his mouth, hands curling around his back and pulling him closer until he drops the full weight of his massive frame on top of you and it’s all-consuming. You wanted him before, you loved him and he brought you pleasure but this is incomparable. Night and day. His Alpha calls to your Omega. It sends you into an altered state, you’re drunk off him, squirming and writhing underneath him as he kisses you into delirium.

“Sam,” you suck a breath between kisses, silenced when his mouth seals back over yours. He grunts, one hand curled into the cut of your hip, the other sliding behind your head and twisting a handful of hair.

“Alpha,” he quietly corrects you, looking down with half-closed eyes. “I’m your Alpha.”

“Alpha,” you repeat. The moment his title leaves your mouth you know it’s right. As if you’ve been searching for one word to encompass all he means to you and now you’ve finally found it. “Alpha,” you whisper again, bending your knees up into his ribs, urging him into action.

The cramps are all but gone and you’re lost in a lustful stupor. His mouth moves down your neck, kissing and nipping until he finds your breast and sucks a nipple into his mouth, hot and waiting as he ruts his manhood against your sex.

You’ve been wet since the moment he laid his hands on you, but now you’re a slick, desperate mess as everything between your thighs throbs with need. You understand now, the pull of one wolf to another. The desperation of one body calling out and another answering in return.

“Please,” you grasp his arms, rolling your hips against his erection. “I need you now.”

His mouth pops off your breast, lifting himself onto both his arms as he looks down at you. His hair is longer than before, hanging unruly around his face and his beard is thick. He looks wild, like half-man with an untamed animal lurking just under the surface, and you’ve never felt as captivated by him as you do at this moment.

His hands disappear between your bodies and he lowers down, staring into your eyes while he lines himself up. His cock pushes inside with no resistance, stretching you open after a year apart. Your eyes roll back into your skull. The first stroke fills you completely and the world is white-hot with satisfaction.

He buries his face in your neck, mouth grinning against sweating skin. He pulls out, only to sink back inside and you cry out, clutching at his spine, rocking with him as the pleasure grows, a fire being stoked with each new slide of his hips into your thighs.

When he pulls himself away from your body you cry out, eyes snapping open as he leans down to kiss you and offering a breathy order.

“Turn over.”

You blink one time and then roll into your belly. Two big hands curl around your ribs as he pulls you up and you find yourself on hands and knees while he nudges your legs wider. With one powerful thrust, he slides back inside, deeper than before. He works his cock faster, plunging in to the hilt with every thrust. Your hands dig in the bedding, toes curling as he groans and grunts with each stroke.

When you feel his knot begin to swell an old familiar fear rises, but you have little time to let it take hold as he grows thicker and thicker, holding himself deep for the final moments. When his knot pops you howl as your own orgasm washes over you. It’s nothing but unbridled lust as you squeeze and pulse around him, feeling the perfect stretch of his knot buried in your channel.

“Omega,” he growls, curling forward. His belly presses into your lower back as he empties inside you.

For a long time, you lie under him twitching and jerking from the aftershocks of it all. Mouth opening and closing, eyes blinking slowly, muscles contracting and releasing until you are nothing more than a puddle of a woman.

“Are you alive my queen?” His mouth is at the shell of your ear, lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

You nod, making a squeaky little sound that’s all you can muster.

You used to imagine what it would be like to truly be like him. To be a wolf and open your legs without hesitation. You knew it would feel different, better, but nothing could have prepared you for this life-altering pleasure.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be the same again,” you whisper, face down in the bed.

He chuckles from behind, wrapping a forearm around your belly and jostling you onto your side. His knot tugs, sending extra zips of gratification from between your legs out in all directions.

You lie together as his fingers trail over your thigh, floating across your ribs to cup breasts as his mouth sucks at your shoulder. Somewhere in the midst of postcoital haze, rational thoughts behind to take shape.

You have a child.

You’re a shapeshifter.

You would have offered yourself up to his brother if you had the opportunity.

Guilt settles back into your gut as his knot recedes. He pulls free, sending a rush of his seed from deep inside.

“What is wrong?” He rolls you onto your back to look at him. He can feel the shifting attitude, your body stiffening.  “You were happy a moment ago and now you’re miles away.”

Looking at him, you move onto your side to face him. His handsome, tired face is full of genuine concern. He slides a hand over the curve of your hip, his fingers playing along the base of your spine.

“I love you,” you whisper, staring at his chest, ashamed to look at him. “I don’t understand what happened with your brother, but I hope you can forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive.” Sam sighs. “It is you that are in a position to offer forgiveness. I was prepared to let you die. I didn’t want to turn you. Dean did what I could not. He bit you, turned you. He saved your life. It’s why you feel a connection to him.”

“I do not want to feel this way about him. I feel dirty and ashamed.” You close your eyes, trying to not picture Dean and his sweet, wonderful scent. “What can I do to make it stop?”

“I’ll claim you,” Sam explains. He moves his hand to your hair, rubbing his fingers over your scalp. “While you may always experience some allegiance to him, my claim should put an end to the more intimate urges.”

“Will you do it now?” You run a hand over his chest, rough hair and hot skin under your open palm. “I’m not comfortable with the idea of being like this, an unclaimed Omega. I want to be yours.”

“You will be,” he promises softly. “Try not to upset yourself. You’ve been through so much. You need rest and calm and time to heal.”

“Then claim me,” you implore, searching his eyes. “I want you to claim me now.”

“We should wait for my rut.” He pulls you close, soothing your agitation with his own body. And it works, the sensation of an Alpha’s skin pressing against yours works like a drug as you melt into him. “Our bond will be the strongest during my rut. I want it now too, but we have to wait. It’s for the best.”

“How long?” You breathe in, letting his scent curl inside.

“A few weeks. Not long.”

“That sounds like a lifetime,” you mutter, nuzzling into his neck, pressing your nose right under his jaw.

“It will be here before you know it. I’ll be with you, as often as you need. And we’ll keep my brother away. Everything will be fine, you just have to trust me.”

“I trust you.” You’re fighting sleep, overcome with exhaustion and nestled into this warm, inviting body curled around you. “I want to see my daughter...and Golda. I’ve missed so much.”

Sam doesn’t respond, he just holds you as you slip into sleep blissfully unaware of the horrors the truth will hold.

[luthien-t]

Resurfaced Memories. chapter one.

Loki x Female reader

warning: swearing, use of tobacco, angst slightly

Summary: Being the goddess of Victory, Sigyn. You Devoted your eternal love to Loki, but ever since his reveal of being the Jotun, Odin decides to separate you both to prevent all chances of him seizing the throne. Casted -More like banished- to Midgard with no memories of your previous life, you believe you are the same as the ones around you, the midgardians. You gave yourself the name Y/n. With plenty of help and guidance you finally have a life, what will it be of Loki when he finds you during his trips with his brother? 

word count: 1.6K+

(Im going to pretend that Thanos NEVER happened, so loki 2012 never happened -the avenger did happen tho, just not bc of loki- loki is on good terms with them, him and thor come visit every once and a while, thank u thank u)

A/N: Tell me what you think! Send me a message if you want to be in the taglist and thank youu! Happy readingg

1945, New York.

You are walking, where? You don’t know, you don’t recognise half of the things you pass. People are dressed differently than you, looking down at your gown, it was muddy and damaged, your hair was out of place and your bare feet cannot handle any more of the wet mud you’ve been walking on, it was raining, heavy. You find a house with the lights turned on and walked towards it. Your mind was spiralling with thoughts, unsure of what happened or where you’ve been before, you knock on the door once, tears start to dwell in your eyes, you can’t deny how terrified and confused you are. Knocking again on the door, you were greeted by a woman, a shotgun in her hand earning a gasp from you.

“Who are you and what are you doing on my porch?!” She had the gun aimed directly towards you, as soon as she noticed your tears she put down the gun, scanning you from head to toe, a frown appearing on her face as she noticed the ripped and muddied clothes before pulling you in and looking around outside the house, trying to find any sign of danger. You stood behind her, mouth dry, your brain can’t even comprehend the situation you are in, you are trying so hard to remember but all you get is headache.

“Darling, are you safe?” She locked the door before turning to look at you, concern visible in her face and you only shrug, words won’t come out, almost like you have forgotten how to think or use them. She walked to the living room behind you, telling you to follow her as she grabbed a blanket to wrap around you. “What is your name?” She asks, quietly. You look up at her, trying to remember, your eyes moving around and closing them as if you will remember, but nothing comes to mind. Growing frustrated a sob escapes and your body shakes, she frowns and sits down on the couch in front of you. “Have a seat, sweet heart.” She said in a soothing voice, you sit down and violently wipe your tears before looking down at your hands resting on your knees. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you.” You hear yourself say, although it came out through your gasps and broken sobs. She shook her head and leaned forward. “Nonsense, as long as you’re here, you are safe. No one is going to hurt you” She rested a hand on your knee, leaning her head down to look at your face. 

But that is the thing, you don’t even know if there is anyone or or anything, you can’t remember where you were or how you got here, your eyes locked to the woman in front of you and you nod. “I don’t remember anything” Thats the only thing you are sure of, you don’t remember. 

“Parents? Family? Friends? Anyone I can call?” She asks slowly and you shake your head. “I don’t remember anything, I swear.” Your body begins to shake again and she tightens the blanket around you, trying to give you some form of security. “That’s alright, we will figure this out.” She smiles softly. “I’m Linda, Linda Johnson.” She sits back and watches you, unsure of how to handle your situation. You nod. “I’m-“ You want to say, want to know your name, but your mind won’t cooperate with you whatsoever, your tears appearing again and you sigh. “I don’t know.” You say and look up at her, a frown printed on your face. 

She was wearing a plain white shirt and jeans, her hair was orange and she appeared to be younger than you could imagine. She tried to have a conversation with you, talking about her past in simple details, she used to work with the Armed forces. “You don’t look like you live here.”she said then told you that you are currently in New York in the united states, she is about 28 years old, lives alone ever since she left her job. You wanted to interact with her and tell about yourself but your mind won’t budge one bit. 

“I will send papers about you, maybe a family or a friend will recognise you and call. We will check up with a doctor tomorrow to see if there is any thing they can do” She reassured you, all you can simply do is nod and thank her. 

1947, New York.

It has been two years since you found yourself in New York, you’ve gotten used to the way things work around here. Living with Linda was making everything easier for you, everyday you learnt something new from her. A couple of months into your first interaction, she decided to give you a name. 

“You’re not going to be cramped up in this house all day long, you can help me and I can help you,” She started, “It has been 3 months since I put the posters up about you, but we have to see every outcome.” She was starting to worry, she wondered if you even had a family around here. “How does y/n sound?” She said and you smiled wide at her. “I love it” You say and repeat the name, it was simple and easy to remember.

After a year or so, you started to have a life here, you also learnt the reason why Linda left her job, she talked about how a scientist named Abraham Erskine tested a chemical on her, she felt unsafe and had to leave. 

“There was no effect, I didn’t feel a thing, he called it the super-soldier serum, I was there to help when he first started working on it. Which is why he tested on me, when nothing happened to me he realised that the serum needed more development, but I couldn’t risk my life for some bullshitted serum” She says as she lights her cigarette and you nod. “So you’re still the same? No effects?” You ask, stirring a cup of tea in your hand and she shakes her head. “Oh no, honey, I had some reaction, my wounds heal faster and I look like im 20 when I’m actually 47, I can run fast, the super strength ingredient was apparently the only thing missing, but I had to get out or else he would’ve kept testing and trying.” You nod again and take a sip from your cup. 

“For all we know I might live past the normal human age” she chuckled and you smile. You wonder how old you are, the doctors who checked up on you all gave you the same answer. “Our machines are not that upgraded and we could only assume that you are in your twenties.” They were all amazed at how your cells regenerate quickly and how immune you are to diseases despite not knowing what a vaccine is. 

Your days always passed quickly with nothing to do but help Linda in her house, you found a new passion towards gardening and reading, you spent your free time reading every book Linda had and sometimes you’d go to the library and read the books there, you enjoyed norse mythology the most and absorbed every knowledge you could have cramped up inside your mind. 

Back in Asgard.

Loki spent the last two year, alone. Yes, he had his brother and his friends, but no one was able fill the gap that you left. He wondered if he ever treated you wrong for you to leave so easily, without a goodbye or a letter, his thoughts taking over him. He mostly spent his awakening hours in the library, sometimes in the garden under your favourite tree, hoping maybe one day you will return with an explanation. 

“Still waiting, brother?” Thor said, looking down at Loki who was sitting under that wretched tree he loved dearly. 

“That is none of your concern, Thor.” He replied as he flipped the page of the book he pretended to be reading, Thor knew him more than anyone, he was the only one who was able to see through his lies ever since you left. 

“She will return, don’t fret, Loki. Everyone was envious of the love you two had for eac-“ 

“I would rather not talk about her, thank you very much.” He shut his book and looked up at his brother. Thor only chuckled and sat down next to him, anger started to coarse through Lokis veins, How dare he sit where my beloved sat before him!

“Father is as distraught as you are, you know.” Thor looked at him with amusement in his eyes, trying to calm his brother down. “She was the only one keeping you from causing all this trouble!” This time, Thor laughed and Loki looked away. “Father loves to pretend, Thor, you should know this by now.” He crossed his arm and remembered the last time Odin mentioned her.

“She forced heimdall to open the Bifront, Loki, she succeeded at treason. I would not want a criminal roaming this castle or this realm.” Odin told him calmly, Loki was drowning in his own guilt and pain that he was unable to see the lie presented in front of him.

“This is her home! What will happen of her if she is denied of returning to her own realm!” Loki protested, taking a step closer to Odin. 

“I will not command Heimdall to bring her back, she may have left on her own accord but she will not return so easily! This is final.” His father stood up, his staff slamming down on the floor, Loki fought the anger and tears from appearing and left without another word. 

Odin watched as Loki left and whispered. “One day you will understand.” 

[sorcererinthestars]

The Wolf Inside

In the hellstorm we are currently living, the RT Writers Discord called off their Secret Skeleton event. However, I was almost done with my piece and I thought, since it has nothing to do with The Offender, I would still share it. Maybe we need to be revitalized in our work, in our love of those who we still have.  Trigger Warning: Suicide Mention. This is sort of dark/angsty, but no major character death. It’s for spooky season, after all!

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26994361

Michael is a werewolf. Gavin begs to see that part of his life, and nearly pays the ultimate price. (Ragehappy/Mavin.)

--

As he presses himself farther into his closet and shoves his fist in his mouth to stop the gasping whimpers that are ripping themselves out of his chest, he knows this is the end. It’s curious, knowing when you were going to meet your death. He had hoped he would go out in bed, surrounded by family, but no.

He was going to meet his death hidden in a closet behind a load of clothes, a balled fist in his mouth to stifle the sobs and a bent metal coat hanger in his hand to use as a weapon.

The noises outside were muffled, but easily heard when he was straining to locate them. A scuffle, the sound of a chair moving and hot, labored breathing. A small whine and then — crash! — the sound of something glass shattering.

It was Gavin’s idea. He had pressed for this, he had said it was okay. He had honestly begged, wanting to know what happened when the transformation came. It was always a secret between them, a gap. It was something Michael never wanted to talk about, always kept hidden. Once a month, he would leave their home, disappear somewhere for a few days.

Gavin never knew if the other was safe. He could never know for certain if this would be the time that Michael would never return to him, would be gone forever and he would be left waiting alone at home, checking his phone for a call that would never come.

So he had begged. Take me with you, he pleaded. We can rent a cabin. I can stay inside, safe. You go do what you need to do, but at least I’ll be near if you need me.

Michael had protested and as Gavin shrinks farther back against the wood of the closet, trying to hide himself and his scent under moldering blankets, he finally fucking understands the reason for that protest. Michael was dangerous. He guesses he must have not fully comprehended that, not really. Yes, Michael was a dangerous creature who transformed once a month, but he was also his fiancé. Almost his goddamn husband. And the fact that Michael tried to keep a part of himself so integral to his being away from him made Gavin upset.

As the sounds came up the stairs and the snuffling grew louder, along with the panting and the growls and sound of sharp claws ripping its way through the wood, Gavin knew he should learn to leave some things the fuck alone. If he had time after tonight to worry about anything.

Michael had got bit as a child, he had admitted to Gavin over a year into dating. He had been playing in the woods under the light of the full moon and he had gone to the wrong place at the wrong time. Thankfully, he had managed to get away. Most people who got bit didn’t have to worry about the transformation. They were eaten first.

Gavin couldn’t help but think of the scenes Michael had described to him. Of bodies ripped to shreds, of nothing left of people but pieces of their clothes. The thing that Michael became was not him. He had pleaded with Gavin to understand that. He had little to no control over the beast. It overwhelmed him, terrorized him, and when he came back, he had a full belly, a raging headache, and only sensations and fear where there should be memories.

But Gavin had insisted he wanted to be with Michael during this months’ transformation. He had done the stupid puppy dog eyes that Michael pretends to hate, pouting lower lip and all, and had threatened to follow him if he went alone. So Michael had taken him. They’d rented a cabin deep out in the woods, far away from any civilization. It had been almost an hour drive on empty dirt roads to get out here to this hunters’ cabin.

The man who had rented it to them had scoffed. Warned them of what lurked out there this time of the month. A creature, he had said. Something bigger than anything ought to be. Something that disappeared, something they couldn’t catch.

Michael had just shifted awkwardly. As they sat side by side in their Jeep, he had turned to Gavin and turned a bit red, as if he was trying to fight back his anger. Again, he had tried to get Gavin to go. He had pressed his credit card into Gavin’s hand, asked him to get a hotel room back in the city. He would pay and he would join Gavin there as soon as he could. It was dangerous, he had insisted, among other choice words.

Gavin always knew his stubbornness and blind loyalty was likely going to get him hurt or killed, but didn’t realize how literal that was going to be. Now, as he stared at the ceiling of the closet in order to try not to cry, he kind of wanted to throw himself off the roof to stop the guilt. If something did happen and Michael came back and realized…

It was funny, how the mind fixated on the lesser of two problems in a bad situation. Here he was, about to die at the hands of a creature from a fucking fairy tale or a bad dream, and he was worried about how Michael was going to take it.

The first night at the cabin had been fine. Michael seemed tense, but they had set up safeguards around the front and back of the home. They made dinner, just pasta over a hot plate, and watched the stars. The moon was almost but not completely full. Gavin had learned that Michael knew a great deal about the night sky. Maybe he even fell a bit more in love. There wasn’t any electricity for video games. Turned out they didn’t need any.

There were times when they were sitting and chatting that Michael would go quiet and stiff. A breeze would come by and distract him, or he would shift and grunt like he was uncomfortable. It was the beginning of the shift, Gavin theorized, but Michael wouldn’t talk about it and Gavin knew better than to press him. He was lucky to even be allowed to be here, to share this with him. He wouldn’t ruin it by getting in the way.

He would share more than the experience with Michael now. The creature — the thing — was nearing the second floor now. The bedroom wasn’t even a bedroom, really. More like a walled-off loft. And he was sitting in the back, trapped. Like a rat in a cage. Ready for the cat.

When the howl came, Gavin almost wets himself, cowering even farther back. It sounded close, but it also sounded anguished. Like he could hear the pain of the creature, the rage and frustration by being able to smell its prey, but not chase it.

Michael had been nearly certain that when transformed, he would leave the cabin and get distracted by deer and bear and whatever the hell else was out here at night. But he couldn’t be certain, so as the day started turning dusky, he had taken the truck out into the woods. No argument could be made here. Michael was adamant that this was as far as Gavin would go. And as much as Gavin wanted to see the beast with his own two eyes, he had agreed to keep the peace.

They hadn’t counted on the senses of the Creature to be able to smell Gavin’s scent from miles away. Michael had only been gone a couple hours before Gavin started hearing the sounds of something heavy in the woods. The moonlight was like liquid silver as it washed across the clearing. Something was out there.

Gavin had at first wanted to see it. Maybe Michael had changed his mind, maybe he had come back to share this part of himself entirely with Gavin. But as the Wolf, in all its glory, smashed out of the clearing, Gavin’s bowels nearly failed as he stared down at the animal.

Michael’s werewolf form was eight feet long and at least five feet tall. It was thick and furry, with sharp teeth and yellow eyes. When it snarled, all razor rows of teeth were shown. This thing was a predator, plain and simple. There was nothing of Michael left.

Now, sitting in the closet and waiting to be torn to shreds by the man he loved, Gavin considers his options. They were slim to none. He could try to stab the eye of the beast when it broke in, but that would potentially hurt Michael as well. Maybe even blind him. Could he live with that? It would certainly be better than the alternative — death — but what if it didn’t even stop the Wolf?

He could try to run, but the idea of that thing chasing him when it was faster, could see better, and was stronger than him was less than appealing. He shivers from fear and shrinks down even deeper into a ball.

Why the fuck had he decided to go? Why had Michael let him?

Because, a stupid voice in his head had whispered, becuase he wanted to be loved and accepted for all of him as much as you wanted to know all of him. You’re both idiots.

Love made you do stupid things, but this had to be among the stupidest.

But he didn’t have time to think anymore as the door to the room was shoved inwards with a harsh slam that shook the house. The Wolf roars and Gavin bites through the skin of his finger to keep himself from crying out, blood hot and iron and red against his lips.

That was his last mistake. Like an arrow loosed from the bow, the Wolf whips around and hyperfocuses on the hot scent of fresh blood in the closet. And without another moment of hesitation, the door rips open and there the Wolf is.

Gavin forgets to breathe. For a moment they sit there, staring, the giant Wolf’s breast heaving with every garbled breath, saliva dripping out of his mouth. And Gavin, small, human, and breakable, staring back with wide eyes.

Then Michael roars, a loud agonizing sound that reveals rows and rows of sharp teeth, and Gavin knows this was where he dies.

A paw whips out faster than can be seen and clobbers Gavin in the shoulder. His arm supernovas into pain before immediately going numb, causing him to shriek and fly forward into the room and out of his shelter. Claws rake across the skin of his back in the process, blood immediately wetting his t-shirt. If anything, it was like a shark, enraging the beast further, who snarls and paces as it surrounds him.

Panic driving him to lengths he never would have considered, Gavin tries to stab with the coat hanger and all he manages to do is glance the flimsy piece of metal off of Michael’s iron hide. This refocuses the beast, which Gavin notices seems to be… pacing?

It stalks around him, snarling and spitting, but … not attacking. Like some invisible forcefield was keeping the beast away. Gavin risks trying to move.

Bad idea. The Wolf lunges, capturing Gavin’s ankle in his jaws. He yanks and Gavin slams unceremoniously down on the ground, dragged a few feet away from the closet until he’s exposed in the middle of the room. Blood drips from the teeth marks in his legs, but Gavin almost doesn’t notice as the Wolf hovers over him and teeth, saliva, and bright yellow eyes become all he can see.

His breath is ragged. What do you do when you see your death? Gavin’s lower lip starts quivering and he tries to bite it as tears well in his eyes. “M-Michael,” he gasps. “P-please don’t.”

And the Wolf… doesn’t.

A beat of silence between them, the heaving hulking form pinning Gavin to the ground, blood pooling under the man from the cuts and scratches along his back, one arm limp and obviously dislocated. He could rip his throat out, but he… doesn’t.

Michael.

Michael is inside the Wolf. With a gasp, Gavin realizes. Somewhere inside this beast is his boyfriend, his fiancé, and despite claiming he had no control, something is stopping the beast from killing him. Gavin can almost laugh with relief, but — the Wolf isn’t moving. And sooner or later, Michael is going to lose to the Will of the Beast.

“Michael,” Gavin whispers. “Michael, if you’re in there, please. It’s me. It’s Gavin, your boyfriend. I love you, please….”

The Wolf actually whines. It’s a terrifying sound, but its the sound of confusion and not rage. Progress. He just needed to keep talking. “Michael, baby, please. You’re in control. Just… get it to go. Turn around and go catch deer. P-please, god, no…” The Wolf lowers his head and takes a big sniff of Gavin’s face, the teeth agonizingly close, the saliva smearing across his cheek. Gavin doesn’t dare to move, as if the slightest extra sound or movement would break this spell that they are weaving together over this rabid animal.

Then, every millisecond drawn out to the longest amount of time possible, the Wolf rears back and steps off of Gavin. It looks at him and roars again furiously, shaking the house, and Gavin screws his eyes shut. He fucked up, this is it…

But then he hears the sound of claws on wood and the large form of a Wolf shoving its way through the cabin and then blissful, complete silence.

Laying on the floor, bleeding and in pain, Gavin finally allows himself to weep. Not in fear, but in relief. In love — Michael knew him. Michael wouldn’t allow that demon to kill him, no matter how little control he claimed to have. Tomorrow they would talk, tomorrow they would atone for their many many sins that came about that night, but tonight…

Tonight he would lay here and cry until the sun warms the trees and his fiancé comes back to him.

Some things are better left a mystery, after all.

[lxvesickreality]

a consequence worth taking 2/?

Request: no request

Pairing: Cisco Ramon x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, mean Cisco

Word Count: 3,068

Add on: interested in a good quite a few parts in this? I definitely. More to come this weekend.

gif is NOT mine, credit to owner

"Y/N, Y/N, we gotta go! Get up. There's an emergency at S.T.A.R. Labs." you abruptly sat up, your head pounding since you took a nap and they cause you to have headaches most of the time. Your heart beat fast as Cisco's frantic voice ran through your head and the two of you scrambled to get your clothes back on, suddenly completely sober enough to drive. But it would take too long. It was extremely difficult trying to get your clothes on in the back of a vehicle but you managed and so did Cisco. 

"It'll take too long to drive there." you said. "You'll need to-" 

"Breach us? I know," Cisco cut you off with a cold tone to it. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion but before you could question him about his tone, he was out of the car waiting for you to follow behind him to breath you two to the lab. You finished tying up your shoe laces and you exited the same door Cisco did. He grabbed your hand, rather aggressively too, and breached you to the cortex. 

Stepping out of the breach, the first thing that happened was Barry speeding towards you to envelope you into a hug. You flinched at the sudden human contact and hesitantly hugged back. "Erm, not that I don't mind a hug, but why are you?"

"Neither of you were answering your phone. We thought DeVoe got to you." Barry pulled back and kept his hands on your shoulders with a concerned look on his face but it looks more relieved than it originally did. 

"Why would DeVoe get to us? He hasn't been active in a while and he's not once wanted anything to do with me." you said. 

"Actually," Barry glanced at everyone behind him; Harry, Iris, and Caitlin then looked back at you with his left hand now scratching the top of his head. "He just sent us a message. He said he's after you specifically." 

You took a step back in surprise, "Wait, why? There's nothing special about me. I'm not a Meta-human like you.`` Strangely enough, you've never been targeted by a bad guy, they went for everyone else. It was frightening having it happen to you, how could you not think it was? Barry is usually the main one then Iris because it is the love of his life following his other friends. But you? No one has ever wanted you. You had no powers, sure you were surrounded by people you loved and they loved you but you just were there. "This doesn't make any sense to me." 

"There's not much to make sense out of that, Y/N. He said he wants you so we have to protect you in anyway." Cisco replied, once again a little too coldly. You gave him an odd look and turned back to Barry. 

"I'll be fine. I taught myself how to fight when all of this began and I still have some of Cisco's tech that I could use against him. I'll be okay." 

"That won't get you very far, Y/N, you know that." Caitlin said softly. You sighed, you weren't about to go sleep at someone else's house. Your apartment was secure enough to go there and you refused to go stay with anyone else. "Why don't you stay with Cisco?" 

Before you could act, Cisco was speaking up, "She's not staying with me," 

"Can I just stay with you, Cait?" you questioned quietly. You didn't understand why Cisco was being this way towards you. You didn't do anything wrong. He has no right to be treating you this way but if he is, you won't sit here and continue to deal with it. She smiled at you and smiled, telling you 'of course'. "Cisco, we need to go back and get my car."

"Where were you guys anyway?" asked Barry. 

You two stopped in your tracks and glanced at one another before running into the breach Cisco created. 

~

DeVoe has yet to make a move towards you and it's been a few weeks. You stayed with Caitlin until you got fed up not being home alone and politely told her you'll be going back to stay at your house. The team was hesitant about it at first but let you go so you took your chance and went home. But those weeks were filled with sarcasm, rudeness, and getting snapped at by Cisco. He wouldn't tell you what was wrong so eventually, you stopped coming around him. 

You were seated on your couch with a bowl of cereal in your lap and your comfiest pajamas watching the Jimmy Fallon show. You laughed loudly at a joke and there was suddenly a knock on the door. Setting down your cereal, you peeked at the clock on your stove reading the time 11:13pm. Who could possibly be here? Cisco was behind the door with an angered facial expression when you opened the door and he didn't wait for an invitation, he barged through the doorway. 

"Cisco? What's wrong?" 

"What's wrong? What's freaking wrong?" he exclaims. "I'll tell you what's wrong. Cynthia showed up at my apartment, Y/N! Someone told her about us sleeping together and she's devastated." you were taken aback by his sudden outburst and quite honestly, a little upset with it. Was he trying to blame you solely? If he was, it wouldn't be fair. It took two to tango. 

"Cisco, I-" 

"Was it you?" he accused. 

"What? Of course not! Why would I?" 

"To get back at her, obviously! She 'stole your man's'. A bitch move, Y/N. How can you live with yourself?" 

Your eyes widened in shock and you snapped back, "What the hell is wrong with you? I have no way of contacting her when she's on Earth 19! I can't believe you came here, to my freaking apartment, to accuse me of telling your ex that we had sex? I have no motive for that! You guys broke up so why would I want to do something like that?" 

"You're right. I shouldn't have come here. But I'm glad I did because I can tell you this now, you and I aren't ever going to happen. We're done being friends right now." with that, he didn't bother to look at you and left your apartment, not forgetting to slam your front door behind him as he did. You jumped at the loudness and stood there for a few moments processing what just happened. How could he just leave you like this? Your heart clenched in despair once everything processed and your face got hot with tears forming in your eyes. He left you. Your best friend left you because of one mistakenly drunken night where you both pursued each other, you slept with each other and he has the audacity to do that to you? Your legs moved faster than your mind could comprehend and you ran to the window to see if you could catch Cisco but his car was speeding off down the street by the time you got to the window. You stood there with disbelief and turned your back to the wall sliding down it with tears rolling down your cheeks. You’ll catch him tomorrow. 

~

It took you a bit to get to S.T.A.R. Labs as you were exhausted from the terrifying fear that someone was watching you. You didn’t call anyone thinking it was just paranoia and eventually you passed out, you woke the next morning feeling incredibly silly for being so scared. Your heels clicked against the floor and you brought the coffee from Jitters to your lips to calm your nerves. You were about to see Cisco and honestly, you didn’t know how to react or what to do, you just knew you were angry and upset. Coming into the cortex, Iris, Barry, Caitlin, Harry, and Cisco were standing in different places talking about DeVoe ad his next moves. Cisco gave you a side glance and you happened to catch the instant mood drop. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Caitlin greeted you with a warm smile as did everyone else besides Cisco when they noticed you came in. You gave them all a small smile and set your coffee down to take your jacket off. “We were just going over a plan to stop DeVoe if he gets to you.”

“Okay and what is that?” you questioned, leaning forward on your elbows on the table looking at them. 

“Well, first, we are going to lure him here somehow. We haven’t figured out how yet but once he gets here, maybe we can act like you died? If you’re ‘dead’, he won’t want you anymore.” Barry explained walking over to Iris, throwing an arm around her shoulders. You nodded, processing the plan. It seemed to be legitimate but what if it didn’t work? 

“Okay, I can see that happening. We would need to figure out how we do that though and we will need a plan B if that doesn’t work.” you told them, taking a sip of your warm coffee from Jitters.

Caitlin gasped, her eyes lighting up and if this were a cartoon, a light would appear above her head. “I know how. Barry, you can bring her into Flash time with you. She needs just enough time to get fast enough to make a double and we can kill that double in front of DeVoe.”

“Wait, what? Caitlin, no! That will never work.” Barry exclaimed. Caitlin rushed over to the board, bringing it from its spot and taking the marker to begin writing numbers across the whole board. Cisco watched from afar examining the process of what she was doing. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m calculating how long she would be in there before she burnt out. This all just depends on time. Barry, when we went into it with you, Cisco and I were still conscious. You were-”

“Sharing an aura around us. You were sharing your powers.” Cisco piped up, eyes furrowed and strolled over to Caitlin to take the marker from her hand and continue the work. “Time is tricky though. It seems she would get 55 milliseconds of our time. Do you think it will be enough time for her to double?”

“I don’t know. It’s risky, Cisco. Can’t you just make some kind of tech?” Barry questioned.

He shook his head, “It’d take too much time and we don’t know how long we would have. DeVoe may not be in action right now nor does it look like it will be soon, we don’t know when he could strike. He could come now and we won’t be prepared. If you guys go train quickly, we could do this. If it doesn’t work then we’ll figure something else out.”

“Wait,” you interrupted them. “What if I don’t want to do any of that? It’s risky as hell. We have no idea if that’ll even work. We have 55 milliseconds and that’s it. How do we know once that time is up, the double will disappear?”

“It’s worth a shot, Y/N.” Cisco snapped back.

“Oh yeah? Like you care.” you spat angrily. For a quick second, your eyes flashed a different color going unnoticed by all except Caitlin. 

“Okay, what happened between you two? One minute you guys are best friends and now you can barely stand to look at each other.” Iris asked.

“Ask him. Let’s go, Barry. It’s worth a shot, I guess.” 

You squirmed uncomfortably in the S.T.A.R. Labs shirt that was too tight on you having only a smaller sized shirt laying around and you did not want to ruin your shirt that you were wearing but this was all they had. Barry had you stretch before doing this, wanting you to not hurt yourself and you obliged as long as he did it with you because you didn’t want to look dumb if others came in.

“You know, you could’ve just worn your tank top for this.” Barry lunged forward, stretching out his legs.

You rolled your eyes, “That tank top is the only one I have at the moment and I’ve barely had any time to go shopping. My tank top is my number one piece of material that is something I don’t want gone right now.”

Barry laughed, sitting up right and shaking his head bringing you to giggle a little as well but it quickly went away when you saw Cisco enter. He didn’t say anything, just stood in the entryway observing and you felt uncomfortable with his eyes directed at you. Was he regretting what he said last night? 

“Ready?” you gave him a slight nod. Barry laid his hand on your shoulder and what everyone thought would happen didn’t. You felt your body fly through the air twist and turn before coming into contact with the wall causing blackness to take over you. 

~

"Hey, is she okay?" Barry asked as he came into the room you were in getting assistance from Caitlin. Everyone was alerted when you went flying into the wall from Barry's powers and Caitlin got you into the room fast to take a look at the damage. 

Caitlin nodded, "She should be fine. She may wake up with a mild headache but she should be waking up any time." 

"I don't know what happened, Cait. One minute she was next to me and the next, she was on the floor after hitting the wall. It's like-"

"Lightning versus lightning? I took a blood sample from Y/N and started looking into it. Barry, she has traces of dark matter in her system." Barry pushed himself off the wall unconsciously and stared at her with wide eyes, clearly astounded by the news he received. "I don't know how or why they're just now showing but she's definitely something. Earlier when she snapped at Cisco, her eyes turned a different color, a darker abnormal blue. It was barely noticeable but I caught it."

"Do you think she knows?"

"No, she would've told us."

A groan caught their attention on the topic and they turned their head to look at you who was squinting from the light. Your head throbbed in the center of your forehead and you felt an ache all over your body. All you remember was Barry and you stretching and you blacked out. Caitlin came into view with a gentle smile and a 'welcome back' escaping her lips. 

"What happened?" you questioned, sitting up steadily not wanting to make your head hurt worse from sitting up too fast. You noticed the IV in your arm, letting a liquid into your body and you almost straight away ripped it out from your skin. 

Caitlin winced for you at the sudden action, "Erm, Barry and you were about to begin training but Barry's powers harmed you. Y/N, you have traces of dark matter in your system. Your powers were defensive and fought against Barry's causing you to be thrown into the wall." 

You were taken aback by this and shook your head, completely in denial. "No, no, Caitlin. There must be some  kind of mistake. I can't have powers. I-I'm a nobody. I'm-oh my god, my mom. My mom tried to tell me." 

"Wait, you knew?" Barry asked. 

"Before the particle accelerator exploded, I visited my mom in rehab. She had just been put in there, coming off of heavy drugs and she kept telling me, 'Something bad is going to happen, Y/N. I can feel it.' I kept telling her this was the drugs talking. She continued, dismissing what I said, 'Y/N, it's about time you knew about your powers. About what you are capable of' I told her she was crazy and I left. I haven't seen her since." you let your eyes flutter closed and inhaled deeply. "She was a drug addict and that was her 6th time being there. I was done and I told her I didn't want to see her again. I was so dead set on not believing her, I pushed it in the back of my mind and I forgot about it." 

"So you knew about your powers and didn't think to tell anyone? At all?" Cisco made an appearance from the Cortex, undoubtedly furious about this and he made sure you knew as he raised his voice mid way through his sentence. You flinched from the loud noise.

"Cisco-" Caitlin started but she was cut off swiftly as he ignored her.

"I can't believe you. I can't believe this at all. You turned into something, I don't even know. You're not my best friend." 

"I used to be until you made me fall in love with you. I used to be before neither of us let our lustful selves get the best of us. We used to before you dated Cynthia and left me! You left me, Cisco. " your eyes began to flash a blue that had a shine to it and a spark came from your fingertips. You couldn't hold it in any longer, there was so much anger inside you that you couldn't contain. "I'm so tired of being a second choice to you. You confessed your love to me and then poof! You were gone just like that. Why? You were scared. Cynthia didn't find out from me, she found out from you. You told her because you felt compelled to. You knew coming clean could have shown her how much you cared about her and she would come back!" 

"Y/N, wait, stop!" the electricity coursing through your veins let a lightning struck near Caitlin causing Barry to panic and ran with Caitlin and Cisco far from the lab. Your powers got the best of you and you felt it take over. It was easy and simple, it was so powerful not to pass it up. You let it take your hand and show you a way through, it felt as if these powers created a different side of you. This is what your mother was talking about. The dark matter from the particle accelerator changed your cells, it duplicated them and created another side of you. It was coming out and you felt the anger coming from it. 

You let it take over and it all went black. 

[thatoneitaliangirl]

Obey Me! Soulmate AU’!~ Leviathan

This one I really like! Its a bit longer than the other two. Also, I’m confirming here and now that I’m definitely making part two’s because this one is far from over! OH! And SPOILERS FOR THE GAME I just got to the part where they explain that Satan was born from Lucifer’s anger, like- wasn’t expecting that! I mean, I remember them mentioning that Satan wasn’t there when they were angles, but I never thought he was born that way. Interesting!~ Also also, I’m not sure if I wrote Satan’s character all that well. He’s next up and I’m a bit nervous about writing for him, but I’ll do my best!! 

Link to Opening Paragraph. 

Leviathan

Having spent most of the day searching for Mammon's soulmate, the seven brothers reluctantly went back to the Devildom to regain strength and think of a more efficient way of searching for the next day. And take showers, because, as Asmodeus had stated previously, the sun was HOT. Nervousness wracked Leviathan's body to the point where he couldn't even work up the nerve to play a video game.

All he could do was lay on his bed and stare at the ceiling, thinking about what his soulmate would be like. Lucifer's was a beautiful, energetic ghost hunter with a tendency to babble, Mammon's was their human exchange student, though there was no surprise there. The two of them were crushing so hard on each other, that the other brothers had almost broken a few times and shoved them in a closet together.

Or maybe that was just Levi? He'd seen it in a couple of anime before and in the end, the two lovers always end up confessing and sharing their first kiss. Was that what meeting his soulmate was gonna be like? Poor Levi barely slept a wink that night. And now, as the other brothers discuss plans for the new day, he still can't think about anything but his soulmate. What is she gonna be like? Will she like anime and manga just like him? Or will she be a boring normie like his brothers?

She is supposed to be his soulmate, so it would really suck if she didn't like Ruri-chan! What if she's never even heard of anime? Then he gets to teach her all about it! "Levi, are you even listening?" Levi jumps, not expecting to hear Lucifer's voice calling out his name. Usually, that means something bad is about to happen . . . "Uh, no, I spaced out." Lucifer sighs.

"As I was saying, Lord Diavolo has made special arrangements for us in the human world. Given his kind and generous nature, he has called in a few favors to help us navigate the human world much faster and through more secretive means. Us getting caught could mean exposure of both the Devildom and Magic and could have devastating effects." "How kind of Lord Diavolo to grant his favorite such luxuries," Satan speaks up as he takes a sip of his beverage.

"Yes. Lord Diavolo's generosity knows no bounds. Now, with that settled, we leave in an hour. I suggest you get your ducks in a row and prepare yourselves. Levi, we find your soulmate next." They leave the breakfast table one by one, all heading to their respective rooms to 'prepare', whatever that means. Levi sure doesn't know what it means.

Does he shower again? Change his clothes? Would he look more presentable in his school uniform or his normal clothes? What if she hates him . . . I mean, he is an otaku. While he takes pride in that, he's not oblivious to the negativity otaku's receive in the human world.

They're generally looked down upon, and though he can take the criticism from his brothers, from the girl that's supposed to love him . . . He doesn't know if he can handle that. Taking his handheld gaming device off its charger, Levi places it into a small bag along with extra games and a manga to read in case he gets bored. Who knows how long their gonna be in the human world this time. Should he take a change of clothes?

Deciding it best, he folds up some clothes and places them into the bag and throws it over his shoulder. He doesn't think that it's been an hour, maybe twenty minutes, but he heads out towards the dining room anyway and places his stuff down. A loud commotion in the kitchen spikes his curiosity, so he follows the noise to find his three brothers, Mammon, Satan, and Beelzebub.

"What's going on?" Satan looks up at Levi with anger in his eyes. Levi has known his brother long enough to not take it personally. The anger is not directed towards him. "What's going on is that the 'help' Lord Diavolo gave Lucifer is a portal key!" Satan sighs at Levi's confused face.

"It's a key that allows us to go anywhere in the human world we want. I've been trying to get my hands on one for years, and now I find out that Lord Diavolo has had one just laying on his desk this whole time?!" He begins to pace, a sure sign that his anger is getting out of control. It's his attempt to try and calm himself before things escalate.

"The worst part is that he didn't even know what it was until that sneaky little butler of his told him to give it to Lucifer!" Mammon, not quite understanding that this was Satan's time to rant, cuts in. "What's so special about it anyway? Sure, it gets us to where we're going, but why do you find it so important?

The only use it could ever have to me is a pretty penny at the pawnshop!" He says, laughing. Satan glares at him. "It's not because it's worth something that I want it. It's because its made with one of the purest forms of magic from the human world! Not even Soloman would be able to comprehend the intricacies it takes to make such an item.

It's the craftsmanship, the number of years a human puts into making the keys, the effort they exert! A fragile human making something so powerful and beautiful? Hardly heard of!" Levi rolls his eyes. "Don't roll your eyes at me! How many times have you gone off on a tangent about some video game and forced all of us to listen?" Levi scoffs.

"That's different!" "Not really . . . " The sixth brother Beelzebub speaks up, crumbs falling from his mouth. "Whatever! It doesn't matter anyway. All that does matter is that we have the key now. The faster we find our . . . Soulmates, the better." Mammon laughs obnoxiously while sitting on the counter.

"Good for you, guys! I think I'm gonna hit up a human world casino! My luck seems to be off the walls, so naturally, I'm gonna bring home some intense bacon!" "Absolutely not." The brother's pale as the stern voice of Lucifer breaks through Mammon's stupid laugh. The second-born grunts. "And why not? I found my human!"

"And so have I, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander around the human world by yourself. And that goes for everybody. You are all going no matter who you find, so I can keep my eyes on you at all times. Understood?" Satan tsks, and crosses his arms, still slightly ticked off about the key. But, they all agree, mostly because Mammon set loose in the human world sounds like the Biblical Apocolypse.

After the seven brothers finish up getting ready, Lucifer gathers them in the dining room. "This key was given to us by Lord Diavolo. It's true that he . . . Didn't actually know what it did . . . But none the less, we should still keep is safe to return it to him when we're done. Any questions?" The brothers shake their heads, Satan still upset but not wanting to cause another argument.

"Good. Levi, I believe it is your turn." Lucifer hands a confused Levi the shiny golden key. With a deep breath, Levi enters the key into the lock on the kitchen door (put there by Lucifer when Beel's sleep-eating was bad a few years ago) and thinks of a place. A lab of some sort . . . With white walls and lots of windows. Leviathan turns the key and opens the door, revealing crispt white walls and blue-tiled floors.

They all enter, skeptical of where exactly the key led them. "What is this place?" Mammon wonders, scrunching his nose. "It smells terrible." "Sorry, sorry! That would be the bleach!" A voice with an English accent speaks from down the hall and startles them.

"_____ and Joshua spilled a whole tub of vinegar in the main hall yesterday and bleach seems to be the only thing that gets rid of the smell." A man wearing a long white coat comes walking out of one of the rooms along the long hallway and extends his hand.

Lucifer shakes it hesitantly. The man pushes up his smart-looking glasses and smiles at the brothers. "My name is Damian, and I run this floor of Greenville Labs. What can I do for you gentleman?" Levi steps forward, slightly nervous. "We're looking for someone . . . I think you just mentioned her." "_____?" Levi nods.

"Ahh, what has she done this time?" Damian shakes his head and gestures for the men the follow him to the room he had just come out of. "Whatever it is, I'll pay for the damages. No need to get the cops involved."

Levi scratches the back fo his neck and laughs nervously. What kind of person is this girl? "Actually, she didn't do anything . . ." "Oh? Well, that's good. You're probably here about her project then?" "No-" "Yes, that's exactly why we're here." Lucifer agrees, placing his hand on Levi's shoulder.

"Good, good! Uh, disregard what I said before then hehe. They are good kids! When they want to be." The sound of a door slamming and heavy footsteps echo in the hall as Damian's eyes widen. "Oh, Be careful, I just washed the- floor . . ." A young boy comes running in and slips, falling on his backside.

"Ha! Dumbass- gah!" A girl walks in, slipping and falling in the same spot. Damian sighs. "I present to you, Dumb and Dumber." A hand reaches up from the floor and slams on the desk, pulling the girl up.

"What does that make you, Damian? Dumbest?" She pulls herself up the rest of the way and straightens out her clothes. "I mean, who washes the floor and DOESN'T put a wet floor sign!" "To be fair, the only reason it HAD to be washed was because of that rediculous stunt you and Joshua pulled!"

"I thought that was hilarious actually," Joshua says, standing up and leaning on _____. This makes Leviathan's blood boil. He can feel it in his bones; this girl is his soulmate. Who does this normie think he is, touching HIS soulmate?!

"Whatever, I've got stuff to do, levels to beat, Joshua to leave crying like a little baby after I kick his ass in Super Smash Bros. Later losers!" _____ pulls Joshua by the hand out of the lab. Lucifer sighs. This ones gonna be a handful.

[cecilspeaks]

163 - “Bravo”

Our moral compass has been demagnetized. Welcome to Night Vale.

Night Vale, Carlos and I went to see a new play the other night. It’s been ages since we went to the theater. I think the last show we saw was “Hamilton”, which is a Tony and Pulitzer winning hip hop musical about figure skater Scott Hamilton, who died in a duel to fellow Olympian Katarina Witt. “Hamilton” was wonderful, but live theater is so expensive. It’s a rare treat for us to get out of the house, what with the cost of tickets plus dinner, parking, a babysitter, tuxedo rentals and all that time spent watching YouTube makeup tutorials for jamming facial recognition cameras.

But my friend Charles Raynor invited us as his special guests to watch the premiere of a new play at the Night Vale Asylum, where Charles is the warden. The play was called “The Disappearance and Cover-up of Flight 18713 as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum of Night Vale under the Direction of Undercover Agents from the National Safety and Transportation Bureau.” Or, “18713/NTSB” for short. I’m used to seeing plays at the New Old Opera House or in the high school auditorium. There’s also the Black Box Theatre, which presents some of Night Vale’s most experimental drama from young performance artists. No one has seen any of these shows, or if they have, they’ve never emerged from that doorless black box, its walls perfectly smooth and faintly warm.

But this particular play was at the asylum itself. The Night Vale Asylum perches atop a craggy peak in the Sand Wastes. It’s brutalist concrete walls intermittently slashed with slivers of windows. I do not personally know anyone inside this intimidating institute, other than warden Raynor himself. And I’ll admit to being a bit nervous venturing out at night to a heavily guarded home for the criminally insane. But Carlos put me at ease by rolling his eyes. He said it was neurotypical ableism that makes us think this way. That movies and TV shows often play up harmful tropes about psychopaths and lunatics, planning daring escapes so they can return to a life of criminal misdeeds. Carlos explained that asylums are merely places where we hide away the people who most remind us of the inexplicable fragility of the human brain.

Driving out past the Scrublands under an indigo sky, the full moon low over the horizon backlighting the Night Vale Asylum atop its jagged rocky ridge, my nerves returned. I thought I heard coyotes howling in the distance, but it was the car stereo. Carlos had put on his favorite new Frank Ocean album called “Various Animals Screaming”. When we arrived, warden Raynor greeted us at the gates. Two guards wearing army style green dress uniforms flanked him. Their right breasts were laden with medals, chevrons and stripes. They each were armed with billy clubs, tasers and slingshots, and one of them was wearing an eye patch, but it was positioned in the middle of his forehead.

The warden escorted Carlos and me to our seats, which were simple wood chairs. There were only ten seats total, all in a single row along the rear wall. There was no standard stage to speak of, no curtain. The actors were all in costume in the center of the room, already in character. The other seats were already filled. Warden Raynor, Sheriff Sam, three of Sam’s secret police officers, two of Sam’s overt police officers, and an angel I had never met before, but who introduced themself to me as Erika. With a K, they added. “Nice to meet you, Erika,” I said. “You got ten bucks?” Erika asked. “Uh, sure,” I said. “What for?” “Not everyone gets to know everything,” they said. “You either got it or you don’t, man.” So I handed them ten bucks and minutes later my lower back pain, which has plagued me for the last six months, was gone. I looked back at Erika and I saw the wink at me, or I think they winked? They have ten eyes, so it could have just been an asynchronous blink. It’s hard to even tell what they’re ever looking at.

The play began with an introduction by warden Raynor, who welcomed us all to this unusual night. The first ever performance of an original play by inmates in his asylum. He introduced the writers/directors of the piece. There were three of them, each dressed in an electrical blue jumpsuit. One of them had a blister on his upper lip, another a swollen red lump along the cuticle of his right index finger. One of them had an unceasing nose bleed. I recognized them as the agents from the National Safety and Transportation Bureau in Washington, who had come to Night Vale two months ago to investigate the disappearance of Delta flight 18713. Sheriff Sam had placed these agents undercover in the asylum to try to meet with an inmate named Doug Biondi, who claimed to have pertinent information about the missing aircraft. Upon remembering this, I flipped quickly through my playbill to find the ensemble members’ names. And there on the title page was the name Doug Biondi, who was cast as airplane pilot. As the warden returned to his seat and before the house lights dimmed, I leaned over to Sheriff Sam and asked, “How is the undercover operation going, Sheriff?” Sam glared at me and said, “I’ve no idea what you mean.” “You know, with the NTSP officers here in the asylum trying to interview Doug Biondi?” I asked perhaps a little loudly for a theater. “The NTSP officers are criminally insane, Sessil,” the Sheriff said unironically and with more than a touch of scold in their tone. “That is why they are here. They are a danger to themselves and others.” I had many more questions, but before I could say anything, the lights faded to black, and I heard the first voice of the play.

“Find us,” called the voice in the dark. “Find us,” it echoed again. A faint glow coated like frost the wild-eyed faces of the inmates on stage. The frantic visages made all the more panic by deep eyeliner, rouge and lipstick. Most were dressed in common street clothes: slacks, jeans, buttoned-down shirts, mid-length pattern skirts. Two were dressed as flight attendants and one as the pilot. I could only presume a small budget, as the uniforms worn by the latter groups were largely suggested by navy blue hats and little plastic wings on their lapels. The pilot wore anachronistic aviation goggles and so it was difficult for me to see and remember the face of this actor, this inmate, Doug Biondi. But I could see his mouth, which was unusually white. The corners of his lips extending well past the width of his eyes. He had an unusual number of teeth in his harsh smile, a smile which never abated, even in his most somber of scenes.

“Weeee surviive,” said Biondi’s pilot character. “Weeeee livve. Weee cannot dieee. Noot here, noot in No..Where.” He said it not like the vague concept of “in no place”, but “No Where”, two words capitalized, like the name of a specific place. Each actor was seated in short tight rows of four, a narrow aisle in between, mimicking the floor plan of a common fuselage. At the front of the troup sat Doug Biondi, as airline pilot. “How did we get here, in No Where?” said one of the passengers. “And how shall we return?” said another. “Only,” they said in unison, “when you find ussss.” This last line they said with a quick twist of their necks towards the audience. Then the scene shifted, the chairs cleared and all of the actors stood in the profile of a Greek chorus. They explained the flight from Detroit, the view of lake Erie, they told stories of different passengers. One who had a job interview, one who was looking for an apartment, another who went to Palm Springs on vacation. They told the story of a bright light and a loud pop, and suddenly the engines were silent. The plane felt still, unmoving, and then the chorus all pantomimed the leaning, concerned gaze out airplane windows. Instead of tops of clouds or distant shapes of great lakes, though, they looked out and saw – children in a gymnasium. They heard the squeak of sneakers and the joyful cries of playful exercise. It felt like minutes, maybe a whole hour. They could not understand what they were seeing. They could not comprehend an elementary school gym six miles above southern Canada. But they were not six miles above southern Canada. They were only a few feet above the American Southwest, inside an airplane, inside an elementary school gymnasium, in a town called Night Vale. And as quickly as they had appeared there, they disappeared. Off the radar, gone from the skies, out of known existence. Throughout this chorus, the speakers filled our ears with the joyful shouts of children, the hollow metallic thumps of red rubber balls, and the collective panicked inhale of a 143 passengers and crew of a displaced plane, and then it was silent. And then it was dark.

A single green light appeared on the far wall, a dot, a blip. A radar blinking on, then off. And the voice of Doug Biondi said: “Weeeeeee are not passengers on a plane. Weeeee are actors. Weeee are inmates of the Asylum of Night Vale, but weeeee do not belong here. Weeee are people who know truths. People who know more than is allowed, and for that, weeeeeeeee are kept in cages. Weeeeeeee are fed poisoned pills and circular logic.” And at this point in the play, I felt movement in our small audience. The warden had stood up and was shouting: “This is not in the script, Doug!” But Doug spoke louder, faster. “Iiiii am not insane, I say! Only the insane would say such a thing they say. Then I am insane, I say. Yes you are, they say. I am trapped, I am framed, I spit out your poisoned pills! I reject your propagandist blather. I know what I know I say. Hold him down they say.” Warden Raynor had gone to the tech board and turned on all the lights. He shouted “code blue” into a radio receiver, and we saw half a dozen security officers in their green medal laden uniforms lurch from the corners of the room, penning the ensemble of inmates into a tight circle in the center. “Return them to their rooms,” the warden called.

But as the guards encroached, the three men from the NTSP stepped to the perimeter of the mass of inmates. They were holding little plastic wings just like those on the costumes of the actors playing flight attendants. One of the NTSP agents, the one with an unceasing nose bleed, opened the back of the wings, revealing a long sharp pin, and thrust it into the neck of a guard. Simultaneously, the other NTSP agents and several other actors did the same, and the guards fell to the ground. One of the NTSP agents, the one with a blister on his upper lip, grabbed the keys and weapons from an unconscious officer. “Dearest audience,” he said in verse. “We mean them no harm. ‘tis but a sleep, a little pharmaceutical rest for a uniformed guard who kept us confined, made life hard for us low level agents doing our jobs, trapped ‘neath the lies of a warden who robs our freedom and murders our spirit. At last we can go, approach the wall and clear it, but heed my warning: as we this coup fly, every man for himself, better run – or die.” And upon this last line, the alarm bells of the asylum rattled my ears and my nerves, shaking Carlos and me from our seats. The inmates scattered in every direction as Sheriff Sam and their officers gave chase. Carlos was nearly stepped on by one of the escapees, and as I bent to help him up, I was knocked over by two officers in full sprint.

When the commotion died down, I looked up and saw Erika still sitting calmly in their chair, and I asked: “Erika, what is happening?” Erika looked down at their playbill, and then back at me, and said: “I think it’s intermission.”

And now the weather.

[“One One Thousand” by Raina Rose rainarose.com]

After 15 minutes, Carlos and I returned to our seats hoping, but not truly believing it really was an intermission. We’ve seen immersive theater before, like “Sleep No More”, an interactive show in New York City where audience members are placed inside a huge warehouse of actors dancing out the plot to “Macbeth”, and at the end everyone is granted the ability to live out the rest of their lives without sleep. It’s expensive and not for everyone, but totally worth it if immersive theater is your thing. But this show was not that. No. “18713/NTSP” had gone wrong. Or, perhaps it had gone right. Under the strict critique of plot structure, character development, and production value, the play failed terribly. But as a piece of political or (agit prop) theater, it was a rousing success. The Sheriff’s Secret Police have placed roadblocks around the entire city, hoping to keep these supposedly dangerous inmates from leaving the area. It is bad optics, to say the least, for the entire population of the town’s asylum to escape custody.

But as Carlos and I left the theater space, we walked down the long corridors, cells and rooms open, no security detail in sight. In one of the cells, below a cot, was a journal. It was the journal of Doug Biondi. Page after page was filled with monologues, narratives and conversations from various people. People who were on a plane, people in transit between checkpoints of life, between relationships, between homes, between jobs, between vacation and work. These stories were written as verbatim dialogue, as if Doug Biandi had transcribed them himself. As if he could hear the voices of those very people. Like former air traffic controller Amelia Anna Alfaro. I wonder if Doug heard the same voices. The same passengers of the missing plane. I had my intern Seamus go down to the library and look up public records on Doug Biondi, hoping to find some connection between Doug and Amelia, but Seamus still has yet to return with that information . I even double checked my playbill looking for Amelia’s name in the cast or crew, but she was not listened here. She was likely never in the asylum.

One thing I did find, though, was a note in the back of Doug’s journal. This note seemed to be in Doug’s own voice. “They tell us we are kept here for our safety, but they keep us here for their safety. They fear what will happen when the people on that plane are found. But I think they have already been found. They should be afraid of what happens when the people on the plane find us.”

Night Vale is on lockdown, so stay home and stay safe, listeners. I do not believe any of us to be in danger from those who escaped the asylum, but I do believe us to be in danger of most everything else. Stay tuned next for a serious of audio clicks, which is definitely not federal agents tapping your radio. Don’t worry about it.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

Share a Lair 06 || Sharing His Space

Max surfaced some time in the afternoon. Jasper and Henry were sitting at the island, eating plates of food whenever he walked into the kitchen and smirked to himself when he saw them. Charlotte’s face brightened up as soon as she saw him. That made him break out into a wide smile. “Morning, Charlotte!”

“Morning? Try maybe three hours ago, Friend.” She laughed and he came over to where she was standing near the stove and leaned against the counter, “You cook?” He asked.

“Oh, no. I didn’t have time, but my Uncle Roscoe is ALWAYS concerned that if the whole family doesn’t have greens and black eyed peas that the year won’t go right. Despite the fact that he’s been cooking and eating this every year himself for ages and I haven’t seen him have a year that I thought went right in my entire life.”

“Can I have some?” Max asked.

“You ask for things nicely?” Henry asked.

“He asks Charlotte things nicely,” Jasper said. The two of them smiled at each other and she furrowed her eyebrows. What the heck did they mean by that?

She ignored them and told Max, “Of course you can. There’s greens and black eyes peas that he gave me entire pots of. All I had to do was warm it on the stove. And also a whole meat pan of ribs, and I may have shot my shot with his cornbread recipe.”

Max grabbed a plate, “So, your family has like a FEAST for New Year’s Day?”

“Kinda,” she said. He just smiled at her.

Jasper watched them carefully and wondered, “Is there something going on here?” Max realized that he was standing extremely close to Charlotte, practically in her personal space and they were just smiling at each other. They both got some distance at Jasper’s question, and he said, “Nevermind.”

Max sat at the table and ate, then had seconds and thirds… Henry’s eyes were wide, “You can really put some food away, huh?”

“I’ve got superpowers,” was all that Max said.

Charlotte, having been finished eating a while ago, but was still in an apron, now nursing a cup of tea sat down and said, “Right, your biology is a little bit different than ours. Like, your scans and vitals and stuff register differently, so of course, your metabolism and probably other functions would too. Plus, with the range of powers that you have, your natural internal processes are probably so different from ours that our estimations can’t really comprehend it!” She sounded so interested, but also, Max almost felt like she was speaking about some bizarre creature.

“I’m human. I have human functions, but yes… my genes do some things differently.”

“Yeah, I mean, yes - obviously you’re human, but you’re superhuman. It’s not exactly the same.”

“I mean… It’s not, but it is!” He said, kind of irritated. Something about the thought of her seeing him differently was troubling for him. Henry grabbed his empty plate and gave Max a weird look as he went to make another plate for himself.

Charlotte said, gently, but sternly, “I wasn’t trying to upset you, Max. I’m trying to understand.” She shrugged her shoulders and left it alone. He obviously didn’t care to talk about this.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” He wondered. “We got back here pretty late and you called me this morning.” Great. Subject change. She nodded.

“I got about 4 hours of sleep, no… 3.” She sipped her tea. “I’ll probably crash tonight as soon as my head touches my pillow.”

“I wore you out last night, I’m sure,” he said. Jasper choked on his food and Henry snorted laughter. Charlotte’s lip dropped. “Grow up. I only meant I kept her out all night, party hopping.”

“What else would he mean? Because everybody here knows that nothing else would have ever happened between us! I’m not… That girl.” He thought about last night’s little kiss… Actually, he hadn’t stopped thinking about it. He’d been thinking about it from the time it happened, even through the dream portion of his sleep. He couldn’t believe that something that lasted so short in real time was having such a lengthy after effect. But also, she clearly didn’t want her friends to know that it even happened.

He got up, collected his plate and tossed it in the sink. “Henry, don’t forget that you or Jasper have clean up duty for the next two months,” he said and retreated back into his chambers.

Charlotte asked, “You lose a bet or something?”

Henry and Jasper both stammered over word vomit, avoiding admitting that they sold her out with house chores. She put her tea cup away, went to Max’s door, and pressed the button that she guessed worked like a doorbell. His voice came through the speaker, “Yes, Charlotte?”

“Hey… Are we okay?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know. You seemed… different… than last night…”

He was quiet for a while and she wasn’t sure if the connection had ended, but he sighed and said, “I’m not the only one.”

She whispered, “Okay, sorry. I will loosen up more. Like last night… Well, maybe not like last night, but…”

He heard him chuckle, “Okay, Charlotte. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

.

Charlotte was more at home in the place than Henry felt lately. He was usually trying to be more mindful about the shared space, considering that he had to be the one to clean it up for now, while she just sort of chilled. She would straight up go into the shared spaces without checking in with Max anymore. She’d pretty much made herself at home.

She even started to wander in wearing night clothes or bringing some to change into, at times. That started, she claimed at Max’s suggestion.

It was the third weekend in January and she staggered out of the tower, exhausted beyond imagination and almost didn’t even notice that Max was outside. When she did, she yelped and startled him. “What is your problem?” He asked, with his hand over his chest.

“What’s yours? What in the world are you doing out here at this time of night?” She asked.

“I live here. I can be out here at whatever time of night I feel like it. What are you doing out here?”

“Getting ready to go home!” She said, a little snappy. “It’s the MLK Weekend and if I miss ANY of the festivities, my parents will have a long, civil rightsy fit. So, I am about to try not to fall asleep as I head back to Swellview so that I can hopefully get a few winks of it before the parade tomorrow morning. Why are you outside of the tower, though?”

This was the best spot for testing out his experiments when he went outside, because the opening was larger than on the other side of the lair. But, he was more concerned about what she’d said before that. “Should you be driving, if you’re this tired? I mean… You could just crash here and meet your folks in the morning, right? Or at least take a nap or something before you go?”

“It sounds like you’re worried,” she said amused.

“You’re the only thing that keeps my housemate and I from battling to his death,” he joked. “But, seriously, it’s dangerous, not just to yourself, but to others on the road.”

“I don’t have much of a choice. Captain Man and Kid Danger didn’t finish their assignment until a few minutes ago, and I can’t sleep in my day stench and old clothes. Gross.”

He sighed, frustrated, but forced a smile that she could see perfectly, even with just a few lanterns and the moonlight. “How about this? Tonight, I can lend you overnight clothes and my shower and stuff and the next time you come around, be sure to have a weekend bag, in case your shift goes too long.”

“Max, I could’ve inconvenienced Henry this way, but I’m not gonna do that to you.”

“It’s not an inconvenience. I’m gonna be way more inconvenienced by wondering if you and the other people on the road made it home safely when I should be testing out this awesome new hoverboard. And Henry? Don’t make me laugh. I feel like I can confidently assume that you wouldn’t be caught dead using his bath products.”

“He uses the same soap for everything.”

“There’s a special place for people like that,” Max said.

She sighed. She really didn’t want to make that drive. “Well… if you’re offering, it’d be rude of me to decline, especially since you’ve made such valid points. But, first thing’s first, lets see what’s so special about this hoverboard.”

Max LOVED when Charlotte was around for one of his inventions. She was one of the few people who he felt genuinely was curious, interested, and impressed by them from the moment she first heard about or saw them. He explained to her about the issues that previous hoverboards ran into and how he made this one with adjustments to those problems and also what he added to make it even better. She totally understood. Whenever he got on it to test it, it took off way faster than she expected and she gasped, but then laughed with excitement at how fluid he seemed on it, even when he did tricks and stuff. Like… WOW. She knew he was athletic, but dang… Ugh… He looked so cool doing stuff on that expert equipment. He pulled back in next to her, kicked an end of it as he leapt off and caught it and placed it under his arm. “I’m gonna be bringing this baby into battle with me. Can you imagine me fighting someone with the aid of this?” He was truly excited, and she was too.

“I can imagine it. I am imagining it, and I will download and save any Hero Tracks that capture it…” He put his free hand in the small of her back and walked her back towards the front entrance.

That night, she realized that his provisions were DEFINITELY more reflective of his work than she would’ve imagined. When you first entered his chambers, there was a long hallway and she noticed that he was deactivating stuff as they walked it, casually speaking and flicking his fingers. So, the lead up must’ve had some great security. Then, they came to what looked like an elevator and he moved his fingers, like he was pressing a code, but of course, didn’t need to actually touch the keys to do so. She worried. Was this going to be like Ray’s elevator? Because she wasn’t sure her head could handle it. But, when it opened, he opened a trap door in the floor and said, “Okay… This slide is really intense. You want me to hang on to you?”

“What? Slide?” She laughed. He sat down and reached for her. “Dear God…” She didn’t know what to pray as she climbed onto his lap and he smiled mischievously before pushing them off with one hand and holding on to her with the other. She. Screamed. This… might have been WORSE than Ray’s elevator. It was like one of those super slides from a water park, but no water and a terrifying drop down. Whenever they came out on the other end, they were practically shot out of the tunnel and floated for a moment as the gravity level of the room accommodated their safety. Her screams should have woken up the entire neighborhood. His laughter was a little bit louder, though. Then, they were released onto a landing pad. He smiled at her as she caught her breath.

“I… That was… Really fun!” She cackled and covered her face. “Oh my God. Is this how you always come home?”

“Usually I cross my arms across my chest like an X, slide down like a boss and control my own landing, but the slide sensed another body and tripped the gravity field control.” Now, she got up and looked around. She never thought that she would be here. He wasn’t a very open person and this was his most private space. It was very dark and mysterious, but also… not creepy, weird, or scary. More like… deep and tranquil. She explored, and to her pleasant surprise, he didn’t stop her. He let her meet his current Venus fly trap, showed her a few gadgets that he was currently working on, and such, and warned her which things to be careful around, because they were either weapons in disguise or guarded possessions with safety systems attached or nearby.

“How do you never accidentally set things off yourself?”

“Gifted, I guess,” he said, grabbing a onesie for her. “Here,” he said and tossed it to her.

“Why do you have a bunny onesie?” She asked, chuckling.

“I can’t wanna be cute and cuddly sometimes?” He gave her a washcloth and a drying towel and said, “Soap and stuff’s in there. Nothing hazardous. The one place that’s completely harmless.”

Charlotte stepped in and asked out loud, “What did they give him the prefect’s bathroom?” She studied the bathtub… She wasn’t really a bath person, but the stuff that was there for a nice long soak might be good for her, and she could always get into the shower afterwards, which there was a little walkway with drains leading to. She went to look at the shower. It had what seemed to be music settings, steam settings, aromatherapy… This bathroom was like… she didn’t want to leave it, to be honest. Henry’s bathroom had your traditional two in one bath/shower and the tub wasn’t even half as big as Max’s. Also… while he just had a toilet, Max also had a bidet! She was gonna have to light a fire under Henry. He would have to work his chops off if he wanted to get some good funding. He probably couldn’t really catch up to Max, but he could maybe at least upgrade a little. “You okay? I don’t hear anything…” Max called from the other side of the door.

“I am fangirling over your amazing bathroom, if that’s okay?”

He laughed. “Carry on. Also… The bathtub has a hot tub setting. If you need it.”

“Oh my God, can I come work for you, instead?” She joked.

“I don’t need any staff, but if you just wanna use my bathroom sometimes, I can grant you an access code.”

And he did! She didn’t tell Henry and Jasper, because, well… it wasn’t their business. And whenever she got up in the morning, having slept in Max’s bed, he was asleep on the landing pad beneath his slide with a sleeping mask on. She wasn’t sure that morning how to get out of the place, so she unfortunately had to wake him up. He ripped off his sleeping mask, alert and practically ready to fight, until he saw her. “Oh… Hey… Morning.”

“Sorry. I don’t know how to get back to the surface.”

He pointed to a door that looked yet again like an elevator, but whenever she opened it, it was an escalator. Okay. She got on, thanked him and left. He dragged himself into bed and laid down. His pillow smelled like her hair. He couldn’t help but to smile about that. He hugged it close and kinda wished it was her. He could’ve possibly made a move last night, but… then she might have thought that he was only nice to her for that. He didn’t want to scare her or make her distrust him. Besides, it was cool kinda building a friendship with her. They didn’t HAVE to be more… Probably wouldn’t be.

.

But, whatever they were, Henry knew that Charlotte had some type of… power in this house. Power that he didn’t seem to have. “Char… You think that you could get Max to agree to some more living room time?”

“I’m not his housemate, Hen. You are.”

“I know, but he likes you, though.”

Her face got warm, “What? No he doesn’t! I mean, we respect each other. We have a sort of rapport that we’ve managed to develop. But, that’s it. Besides, I told you which of those tower rooms you can make into a wonderful living room within your chambers.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have the SAL swag that is in our shared living room.”

“Technically… That stuff belongs to both of you, or it’d be in Max’s chambers. Believe me, his space is SUPER luxurious.”

“You’ve… been in there?” Henry asked, shocked. “This is what I mean! He let you into his chambers. He would never let me or Jasper in there… Maybe he does like you.”

“God, Henry, not everybody is like you. Some people can just be nice because you’re friends, colleagues, or kindred souls. You don’t have to like everybody that you’re nice to!”

“You’re acting so weird about this. Can you please just get me the living room for the last weekend of this month slash first weekend of next month for a videogame tournament?”

“Ohhhh… He’s having that here, with his friends. You can probably come.” She laughed and waved a hand, “You live here. Of course you can come!”

“His friends? He… Has friends?” Henry said.

“The guys from his high school band, Billy and Nora, and maybe Phoebe? I can’t remember who all was tagged in the post.”

“He… You were tagged in a post invited here, where I live, and I wasn’t even so much as spoken to about it?”

“I didn’t think to…”

“I have to try to get a new housemate,” Henry said, shaking his head.

“Henry…”

“No. I don’t care that in the past couple of weeks he’s become your buddy or whatever is happening there. I work hard too and he can’t treat me like an unwanted guest in my own lair that I share with him.”

“I’m just going to tell you that if you file for a transfer, it’s a lot of paperwork and they ask you to try a number of roommate reconciliation tasks and morale building before they determine that indeed you can’t live with the person that they placed you with. He can’t be that bad, Henry.”

“He is, though. He’s the absolute worst. I’d rather live with Ray.”

“Shameless lie, huh?”

“It felt differently before I actually said it.”

“Tell you what… I will talk to him and if he doesn’t care, then we start looking into some of the SAL reconciliation tasks.” Henry gave Charlotte a big hug, lifting her off of the ground and kissed her hard on the cheek.

“You’re the best, Char!”

“Yeah, every time you need something,” she teased and gave him a shove.

[mangled-dreams]

Making Memories: 9

Making Memories 9: Relationships

Chapter 9

With a quick wave of Dark’s hand you fall from the ceiling. Crying out at the unexpected pull of gravity, you silently wonder just how badly the contact with the floor will feel. Before you have a chance to see just how bad it would feel, you are caught by Dark.

His strong arms easily shoulder your weight and carry you to the couch. Unceremoniously he lets you drop onto the couch. Your body hitting hard enough to knock against the under beams.

“Don’t flatter yourself, human. I simply put up with you because of my partnership with Anti. Once you prove to be a hindrance, I will kill you for both our sakes.” Dark responds coldly. Without another word Dark disappears from your cabin.

Frowning and feeling a little abused by his less than gentle approach to helping you, you swing your legs over the edge of the cough and sit up. Sighing, you stand and gather up the bag Dark left behind. Looking inside the package, you take it into the kitchen and put away the various treats.

You try to not let his cold words linger too long in your mind, but it’s hard when he says them with such a dead tone and straight face? After these long months, you’d thought of Dark as a friend. You suppose, you were wrong to assume.

Pacing back and forth in his lounge Dark can’t get your words to stop running over and over in his head. Your assumption is laughable; if only he could laugh at it. Instead he mulls over your words, the way you spoke to him, even the look on your face.

Moreover, how dare you assume he’s so petty to be jealous of Anti of all creatures! If anything he pittys Anti for being so infatuated by such a frail and weak creature such as you…

Yet, as he thinks the cruel harsh thoughts in his head they don’t seem to truly feel… true. That knowledge alone irritates Dark most of all. The thought that your assumption could be the honest truth enrages and engulfs him.

Looking up at the sound of the door open and close, you see Dark enter the cabin once more. Nothing seemed out of place at first glance, but then, as he stepped into the soft living room glow, you see blood. Jumping up you hurry over to Dark, taking him by the hand to the couch.

“What the hell happened to you?” You ask in a rush. Practically stripping his jacket and shirt off, you see a large number of cuts, scraps, and bruise marks all over his body. “Dark! What did you get into a fight with?”

Leaving him briefly you grab a first aid kit from your bathroom and hurry back. Dark still hasn’t moved more than you’ve made him. Leaving him again you wet a small towel, ring it out, and sit back down next to Dark.

“Dark! I’m talking to you!” You shout, angry he hasn’t even acknowledged your presence.

He continues to ignore you. Biting your inner cheek, you continue cleaning Dark. The towel slowly being dyed red. Cleaning and patching Dark’s skin takes nearly an hour and half. Your hands cramping from holding the towel for so long.

Sighing and rinsing out the towel with warm water, you glance at Dark. He hasn’t moved at all since he sat down. His cold demeanor is really starting to get to you more than just irritation. Moving the coffee table closer to Dark’s knees, you settle yourself between his legs and gently clean off his face. Most of his wounds have stopped bleeding, some bubbling a little after a pass of the washcloth. With each pass of the cloth you look up to Dark’s eyes.

For a moment, as you apply antibacterial cream to a large slash along Dark’s cheek bone, you have a feeling of familiarity. Without meaning to a small smile slips across your face. Perhaps being the team medic isn’t as back as you once thought. Seeing blood isn’t as traumatizing to you as it had been.

“Why are you laughing?” Dark asks, his voice startling you from your thoughts.

Looking up into his eyes you smile at him. “It’s really not something funny.” You start softly. “I was just thinking about how I’ve been patching the pair of you up, and that blood doesn’t seem to bother me anymore.” You finish.

Dark remains silent, his watchful eyes staring directly at you.

“I want you.”

Stilling you look up to Dark. His eyes meet yours. “What?”

“You are right. I am jealous of Anti.” Dark clarifies.

Opening your mouth to speak nothing comes out. Swallowing the forming lump in your throat you try to speak again. “Are you sure?” Internally you yell at yourself for such a stupid question.

“How would I not be?”

“Sorry, I said that wrong. I meant:In what way?”

Moving faster than you can comprehend, Dark pins you down on the coffee table. Dark blue and red lights flicker in his black-brown eyes. Your eyes meet. “I want  you, like Anti wants you.” He confesses, one hand running down your jaw on the left side.

“I’m Anti’s girlfriend… does that mean you..”

A gentle smile graces Dark’s face. The image of this leaves you breathless momentarily. “You are something we demons give up on finding: love.”

Your heart speeds up at his words. He wants to love you and have your love in return? “But, Dark, I love..” A large finger presses against your lips.

Dark quietly hushes you. Your eyes stare into his. You don’t understand. Sure, Dark is very obvious with his attempts to flirt and hit on you when Anti is around, but when alone he never even seems to look at you in that way.

“You can love more than one person. Many humans have ‘open’ relationships. I do not mind sharing with Anti.” Dark whispers, his lips hovering just above your own. It's not often Dark gets so close to you.

Swallowing another lump, you feel your gaze drawn down to his lips, then back up again. “What if that’s not what I want?” You ask softly.

“How do you know if you don’t try?”

[prurientpuddlejumper]

A Deep and Rapid River, Ch. 3 [18+]

<-Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 ->

Summary: The creature feels guilty about having sex with you before explaining that he’s... um... made of dead people. Before things get too steamy again, he needs to reveal the truth. But how will you handle the news?

After you finish re-wrapping his bandages, attending to the healing of his bullet wound, you realize your stomach is gurgling with hunger. He generously offers all the roots and nuts stored in his pockets. You take them gratefully, but wonder if he has anything more substantial, like oats or meat. He does not.

“This is hardly enough for my breakfast, much less split between us.”

“You may have all of it for yourself,” he offers. “I can subsist on less.”

You pointedly refuse. “You need energy to heal; I can’t eat all your food. Besides which, if this is all you have, then I’ll be starving again by lunchtime.”

“I would spend every waking hour gathering every edible leaf and berry from the forest so you may feast as royalty, except this blasted arm. Even with your tender nursing, it is a constant throb of pain. I am unfit for protracted exertion.”

“Then I see no other recourse,” you say, popping a stale acorn into your mouth, “than to return home, or I won’t survive out here with you.” You’re honestly amazed that he can survive on such meager rations, as big as he is.

His shoulders fall, and he takes on an expression of mourning. “Then, you shall leave me after all.”

“Not at all! Come home with me, and I shall see we are both well fed.” You explain that your parents’ farm has a barn and hayloft at the far end of a wide field of grains, at the edge of the forest. It is isolated enough for him to hide within during the day, since you are the most frequent user of the space, as you go about your chores alone. It would be easy to visit him there to continue tending his wound, and they could quickly vanish into the forest.

He is greatly relieved to hear of your plan not to abandon him, though he adds, “I am not keen on hiding in a village full of people again. The last time did not end well.”

“The last time you didn’t have me looking after you,” you smile.

Before returning home, you and your companion roast your small stockpile of vegetables on the embers. He sits close to you the entire time they cook, holding your hand, hating every instant you’re not in contact with him. But he still looks away from you whenever he catches you looking at him too long, and lets his wild black hair fall in front of his face.

You climb into his lap, straddling him, and begin combing through the snarls in his locks with your fingers. He gasps. Though he keeps shifting his face to keep you from seeing all of it, he braces his hands against your back to help you balance as you work, his chest moving up and down more and more rapidly beneath yours. Through his pants, you feel his bulge begin to harden against your thigh.

“Ah—the parsnips are burning!” he cries out, standing suddenly and dumping you off his lap.

After eating, you decide to delay your return a little longer. You strip your clothing off, undergarments and all, and hang them from a tree branch in the direct sunlight.

Your tall companion blushes a deep purple, and begins stammering. “W-what are you—um—”

“The sun is now fully risen, and casts a strong, dry heat, perfect for drying my clothes, which are still unpleasantly damp with the night’s dew. Come, you should remove yours as well: it helps them to dry faster.”

“I… um…”

You interrupt his fussing, pushing him playfully back against the trunk of an old, colossal tree. He gives in without argument, falling against the trunk as if you were the stronger, and leans down to you as you stand on tip-toe to kiss him. He growls hungrily against your lips, rough hands tracing down your body, exploring every inch of your skin.

“You are the most beautiful being in the world,” he pants, voice low and raspy. “An ethereal creature of light who has graced my lowly existence from on high—You are an angel.”

“I appreciate the flattery,” you laugh. “But I’m actually pretty average.”

“You are anything but common! Your heart is the most beautiful and generous I have ever known, to give succor to such a detestable wretch as myself. None has ever been so magnanimous in the history of your species. No human has ever seen past this horrible face.”

“There is nothing horrible in your face,” you purr, pressing your body against his. He whines softly, helplessly, leaning down to nip and kiss your neck, leaving red marks on your skin. You grind your hips against his—or his thigh, rather, as his hips are as high as your chest when he stands. He grows again, impossibly large, straining against the closure of his pants. You slip a hand under the fabric and feel the velvety, hot organ throbbing at your fingertips. You ache with desire imagining him inside you.

“Stop, please!” he cries, taking your shoulders and pushing you out to arm’s length. Sweat beads on his brow, and he pants. “I cannot allow this to continue.”

“What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?”

He shakes his head emphatically, “No. I want you more than anything, but it is I who am unworthy.”

“Oh, not again,” you whine. “I told you, I don’t care what you look like. Please, you don’t need to beat yourself up all the time. I want you, too.”

He shakes his head in defeat. “You only believe you do because I have withheld the full truth from you. You believe my deformity to be a natural misfortune of my birth, or sustained in a disfiguring accident, do you not? I am sorry to have deceived you, even by omission—I know you will flee in disgust when I tell you the true cause of my fatal defect, and I would do anything to keep you by my side. Yet guilt weighs heavy upon me. I must cast off this burden, and let you choose, fully illuminated, whether to remain companion to me, or to curse and despise me, as any rational being would.”

“You have to tell me… right now?” you ask, fully naked.

“It cannot wait.”

He produces papers from the pocket of his clothing. With trembling hands, he gives them to you, then hastens to the far side of the tree to hide, awaiting your reaction.

The pages are full of grotesque images: anatomical sketches of dissections, human remains taken from robbed graves stitched together with parts taken fresh from tortured animals. The illustrations were not cold and detached, as a typical medical text, but somehow lurid, as if its author were etching his twisted passions onto the page. At first, you don’t understand why your friend showed you this—the notes are all rambling and etched in a shaky hand, difficult to comprehend. When you discern the author’s intentions to build a living man, all of the pieces come together. Your stomach turns. It takes a few moments for you to gather your feelings and return to the huddled form, making himself small clutching his knees to his chest, on the other side of the tree.

“What I read… it's horrible,” you say, voice shaking with emotion.

“I know,” he whispers without looking up.

“This Victor Frankenstein was a monster! The things he did to those poor, innocent animals—not to mention defiling the dead. He has no conscience, and yet he writes as though he believes himself divine! What a pompous, arrogant, self-absorbed egomaniac!” you stomp, crumpling one of the pages in your fist. “Did you see this passage here, he writes: ‘A new species would bless me as its creator and source; many happy and excellent natures would owe their being to me. No father could claim the gratitude of his child so completely as I should deserve theirs.’ Ha! And yet he abandoned you, leaving you at the mercy of an unfeeling world. How dare he?!”

The creation looks up, blinking his wet eyes in astonishment. “But, are you not alarmed? The truth of my nature is too horrid to be borne by the human mind, too fantastical to be believed—surely you are shocked to learn it?”

“To be honest, I knew all along there was something unnatural about you,” you shrug. “I wouldn’t have guessed this, but, you did go on about being an abomination so I could hardly be surprised.”

“But, does it not disgust you? You revile my creator for his profane work, yet I am the result—all of his evils he poured into me, keeping the virtues of beauty and humanity for himself. Any execration you profess against him, you must feel for me a thousand fold!”

“No.” You kneel beside him, hug him and hold him tight, letting the papers scatter to the floor. “No. You share none of the blame for his actions. It is he who darkened his soul with his misdeeds; yours is innocent. You have done nothing wrong.” You caress him, planting tender kisses along his arms, trying to revive his spirits. He unwraps his arms from his knees, unfurling them from his chest, and scoops you into the opened space, burying his face in your neck.

“These are a corpse's arms that hold you,” He sobs, breath hot and ragged. “The skin of a dead man wrapped around charnel-house bones. I am not a person, I am a macabre assemblage. You must be sickened. You must hate me.”

“I care for you; all of my feelings toward you are those of affection and love. You are a person, no matter what your limbs are composed of. A wonderful, generous, selfless person, who did not deserve to be abandoned and alone. Who did not deserve to be scorned for wearing this face. This body is not who you are. You have a soul, which this Frankenstein could not have had any part in bestowing you, for it is far brighter than his own. And besides which, is my own body any less revolting when described in such explicit detail as laid out in these papers?”

He looks you up and down, bare in his arms, your vivid flesh in sharp contrast with his ashen pallor. The corner of his thin lips slowly creeps upward. “I would spare myself no detail on the subject of your body, my dearest.”

Your cheeks flush bright red. “Damn you—I knew the moment I said it!” you playfully clap his chest.

“My apologies,” he laughs softly, trying to repress the salacious grin spreading across his tear-streaked face. “If I spoke too familiarly, I—”

You press your lips to his, silencing him. Timidly at first, his fingers run through your hair, then, encouraged by your moan, he pulls you harder into a deepening kiss, parting your mouth with his tongue, twining with yours. His hands find your waist, guiding you as you slide down into his lap, wrapping your legs around him.

“Do… do you want to…?” he breathes. You nod, grinding your hips against him for emphasis. He smiles, and shifts his weight as if to get up, but then slumps back down against the tree, cringing painfully. “Yet I may not have the strength. My injury fatigues me, and I have exerted myself too much already.”

“Is it alright with me being in your lap like this? I don’t want to hurt your recovery, of course, but you look so crestfallen—if you want, we can do it just like this.”

“Oh?” his eyes brighten.

“Mm,” you purr affirmatively, trailing your fingertips down his chest. “Let me do all the work.”

You undo his pants and free his eager length. Lowering yourself onto him, you ease down slowly, feeling him stretch you as you work, little by little, to take in his massive size. A flurry of shallow gasps issue from his lips with each inch of progress you take, and his eyes flutter closed in rapture. With a deep moan, you sit on his lap, fully sheathing him. He arches and goes rigid beneath you. You lean forward to kiss his eyelids, then begin riding him, arms twined around his neck for leverage, rocking together in a steady rhythm.

Helpless, desperate noises escape his lips with each thrust, and each noise makes you wetter. You love hearing how much he loves it. You take it as a challenge to get him to cry out louder.

“May I touch you?” he asks.

“Please.”

His hands explore your body, seeking out areas that get a reaction from you, teasing your nipples, between your thighs, caressing your lips—quickly finding which buttons to press that will make you moan. He loves that you can find pleasure in him.

As he gets close to the edge, he begins thrusting up into you more vigorously, bucking and writhing, forgetting his need to take it easy. He grabs your hips and moves you at a faster and faster tempo, but he still wants more.

"I want to... To be on top again. Is that OK?"

"God yes."

He flips you back onto the ground, lifts your leg up over his shoulder, and begins thrusting hard, deeper, until he screams out, shuddering as he spills his seed inside you. Then he collapses to the ground, limp, luckily having the presence of mind to roll to the side to avoid crushing you.

“I should not have done that,” he groans, damp with sweat, clutching his bandaged shoulder. “Owwww.”

You caress his chest, smiling contentedly. “Do you need me to re-do your wound dressing?”

“No, no. Thank you, my angel. I just need… to rest…”

And with that last, weary remark, he drops promptly to sleep and begins snoring. By the time he wakes up, your clothes are dry.

[spirit-of-the-void]

Gasoline and Matches (Original Content) Chapter Two

Author’s notes: Howdy kids, sorry that this is late too. This is the story I’ve been working on with my dear friend @tiltingplanet since like...high school. I’ll link chapter one since it was posted on my side blog

Chapter Two

Yomi was certain of it now--they were going to die.

She clung hard onto Mira as their bodies free fell, wind howling past and blood rushing in her ears.  Plummeting. Falling endlessly, all light gone and the descent definitely long enough to break every bone on impact. Of all the ways she thought it would happen, Yomi never imagined the end coming in a scenario like this. There were so many other ways, so many other possibilities far more likely in an existence like hers that would have been the winning candidates in summoning Death into the timid girl’s life . Her mind couldn’t wrap around the notion, to the harsh reality of falling into the abyss, waiting and waiting for it all to suddenly end in a crack of flesh against whatever surface they’d land on. How far down did this pit extend? Would it take hours? Days? Years? It sure felt like it, and waiting was part of the madness that she absolutely couldn’t stand.

Get it over with. Get it over with--this is the worst experience of my life.

Her only regret was that Mira had been dragged into it, the girl’s voice now hoarse from screaming as she gripped Yomi’s hand hard,  tight enough that she was losing circulation. It hardly mattered, especially with the situation they were in. Yomi didn’t have a lot of people who would bat an eye if she was gone, fact of the matter being that she went out of the way to make that the reality of her situation. Mira was different, there were so many students and people in town who knew and respected her--people who were devastated when the car accident happened, that went out of their way to make sure she got back on her feet after all the pain and struggling. It was a shame that after the hard work they all put in that this would be the way Mira was forced to go out, another accident sending her falling into a cave pit...forced to die with Yomi of all people.

The white and black-haired girl should have listened to instinct, should have said something.Once again her inability to be assertive caused problems--maybe if the girl had been more vocal about the uneasiness felt, Mira and Clarke could have stayed behind in safety? They could have gone to the boy’s house as planned, met his cute dog and spent the rest of the night actually enjoying themselves. What about the other’s? Bethany, Emma, Jack, Ann, Jake...were they hurt? Did the cave in effect them too? So many questions swirling around Yomi’s brain, one consuming another to take its place in a cacophony of sound and white noise. Only succeeding in making the reality of her situation all the more horrific, because she would never get to know what happened to the other classmates. And that was somehow more distressing over her own mortality, more than her own life.

How much worth did I have anyway?

It was that thought that finally made Yomi eyes close, body relaxing in its struggle and letting the air take her down, down into the darkness. Acceptance was the final part of the process--death was coming and there was no fighting it, not this far down. Mira seemed to have a similar idea, her form ceasing to struggle and legs hanging limply against Yomi’s own while the seconds passed on and on. At least...that what she thought they were--it was starting to feel more like minutes, brain unable to comprehend time in the fog that came with falling to an ultimate demise.

Wasn’t her life supposed to flash before her eyes? Movies and tv shows lied.

“Yomi…” Mira’s soft, hoarse voice was barely audible above the rush of air, her form trembling as that strange humming started to reach their ears again. Like bass rumbling as it rose louder and louder in frequency, ears and lungs vibrating from the sensation until it was almost uncomfortable. Unbearable, “Yomi…!”

The girl’s eyes snapped open, a gasp lodging in her throat as a blue glow started to encompass the surrounding space. It reflected refracted, scattering light on the stone walls--like the inside of a swimming pool. Water, the white and black-haired girl realized, gazing at the stone whooshing past in a sort of trance. Why was it so bright? Luminescent, shimmering like diamonds that split apart into stars, bathing every surface in an otherworldly glow. Yomi tried to twist her head around, looking for the source of light coming from below, but the rush of air only managed to sting her eyes, hair obscuring whatever view could have been reached. Did it even matter anyway? As soon as they touched whatever awaited them, death would come swift and unrelenting anyway.

At least...that’s what she thought.

There seemed to be a brief moment where everything slowed, the cave walls that were once a blur seemingly visible to Yomi’s stinging eyes. She inhaled a sharp breath, beads of bright, glowing blue water seeming to hover in the air that drifted by her face. Pearl-like, pristine and almost tranquil in what the girl assumed to be their final moments of life. The water coagulated, curling upwards faster and faster as time suddenly seemed to return, like reaching hands that curled around herself and Mira in kind. Cradling us, a loving embrace. The redhead let out a sharp gasp, seeing exactly what her companion was as water surrounded them both in a halo of blue, the rush of air gone and a low chill meeting dangling limbs. What is happening? What is happening? Yomi sucked in a lung-full of air, eyes squeezing shut as the water enveloped them both, somehow not soaking her clothes at all and bringing with it an almost serene sense of peace.

And then...they plummeted into the icy pool in a rush of sound and adrenaline.

Yomi was lucky she inhaled before it happened, the halo of water suddenly collapsing onto them like the waves of an ocean. It weighed down all their limbs, soaked to the bone and sense of direction sent spiraling out of control. The impact jostled Mira from Yomi’s grasp slightly, her canes sent floating away into this pool and lost to the girl’s reaching hands. It was cold, so cold--for a moment Yomi found herself unable to move, the tingling water surrounding her on all sides and bringing with it a dazed sensation that would not fade. It was somehow so bright, the water hold its own ethereal glow and color as she managed to peel her eyes open. This wasn’t death...was it? Her limbs still ached, palm stinging from its burn and lungs starting to scream for air. No, she was still alive, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks and snapping away the daze in an instant.

I survived, I’m alive.

Several things pinged at once in her skull, limbs twitching to life and head whipping around to look for Mira. If I survived, then--She has injured legs, can she swim? Drowning. There, floating a few feet away, Yomi spotted a familiar flash of red amongst the illuminated blue. Her legs immediately started kicking, ignoring the growing ache in her lungs as she reached for the limp body of Mira. Please be alive. Please. Desperate now, clawing upwards with one arm while her feet worked below, trying to bring herself and her limp classmate up to the surface. She refused to drown here, not after they somehow survived a fall that should have killed any normal human being. Inch by inch, foot by foot Yomi surged to the glassy top of the water, heart roaring in her ears and feeling lightheaded at a lack of oxygen before the surface shattered from her impact.

A loud gasp of breath immediately sucked into her lungs, wheezing and choking on it as she struggled to hold Mira above the water. Air, breathing, alive. Yomi coughed a bit, body shaking from head to toe as her classmate started to hack as well, groaning and breathing in and out carefully. Thank whatever gods existed above, the redhead appeared unharmed as well. The whole situation was inexplicable, absolutely outside the realm of what Yomi ever considered possible. If not for the very obvious pain ripping through her hand, she would have thought this all a very elaborate nightmare, or a very bizarre dream. The kind you have and wake up on the floor of your room after rolling off the bed.

Grasping reality proved difficult, even as she dragged Mira’s shaking form to the edge of the pool, both girls gathering their wits and breath while Yomi tasked herself with getting them out. Mira appeared stunned, almost in a state of shock which was more than understandable. What just happened was beyond comprehension, and she had been through enough the way it was. She didn’t struggle when Yomi started to tug her out of the water, both collapsing on their sides on the pool’s edge to catch their breath and decompress a bit. More stone, the ground hard and cold under Yomi’s bare shoulder. Christ, what the hell had just happened? Where were they now, and how the hell were they still alive? 

Her eyes tilted upwards, seeing nothing by darkness above and no sign of the ceiling that they fell through. There was no way a fall like that wouldn’t kill them, even while landing in water. The velocity, speed...impact would have shattered the two girls like flimsy ragdolls, snapped necks, dislocated limbs. But...Yomi stared at her palm, seeing the burn from earlier and feeling shaken to her core. After that burst of light, the burn that razed over her skin...nothing was normal anymore, nothing. 

But now they were down here. And she didn’t know how to get out.

“M...Mira…” The timid girl whispered, voice breathy and soft as she reached out to grip her classmate’s free hand, “A...are you okay…? Are you hurt?”

There was a beat of silence, broken only by ragged breathing and the sound of water gently pattering from their bodies. Yomi turned her gaze, seeing Mira slowly roll herself over to stare back with frightened, tired green eyes. 

She swallowed visibly, squeezing the hands of the salt and pepper-haired girl and managing to croak out, “I...I’m not hurt, but…” Mira slowly started sitting up, helped by Yomi as they dragged themselves a bit further away from the water’s edge. Those emerald eyes reflected the refracted light, skin pallid from stress as she whispered, “Yomi...how the fuck are we still alive?”

Christ, wasn’t that the new question of the day? She wished that there was an answer, eyes closing as more water dripped from her sopping form. Things used to be dictated by logic, common knowledge and careful thinking. It was these ideals that got Yomi this far in life, her way of survival. But none applied in the face of such oddities, leaving her feeling exposed and lost where she might have once been level. Nervousness, shyness...those were one thing. Dealing with a scrap with death and surviving against all obvious indicators of that being wrong was...another.

“I...I don’t know,” Yomi replied softly, pressing fingertips against her own temple in an attempt to stave off the building stress, “We...we need to think, need to get out of here.”

How far down did they fall? If a search party came looking for them, would this place be accessible? Knowing their small town, knowing the lack of resources and how bad the cave-in was…

There was no doubting it. They would be presumed dead.

Don’t think about it, Yomi tried to meekly tell herself, rising to her feet and helping Mira up with a firm arm around her waist. The surrounding cave was big, much bigger than anything that was seen before. Most of the ceiling above was way too high up to catch a glimpse of, and what was visible consisted of craggy stalactites that reached down in an arcing slope toward what looked to be a long passageway nearby. More of those strange symbols made swirling patterns on the walls, and on the floor too by the looks of it. Although these were a bit...odd.

Yomi reached instinctively to grab her cellphone from its usual pocket, but was disappointed to find that it wasn’t there. It was in her hands when the cave-in happened, so it was probably still resting up above or smashed to bits by rocks and stones. So much for a flashlight, or for calling 911. 

She felt Mira struggling to reach into her own phone, pulling the soaked electronic out of her shorts and wincing lightly. Thank god she still had hers at least--but by the looks of it, there was no signal to be had in such a strange location. Zero bars, zero service--both girls exchanged disappointed glances, but the phone case at least protected the device from water damage. Mira turned on its flashlight to shine it on the ground around them and at the cave walls.

These marks were definitely strange. They all curled from the same direction, reaching out like branching tendrils from a single passageway on the far wall. Almost like they had extended from that location, finally reaching the pool and forming a ring of symbols around it. Akin the ones upstairs, they were practically scorched into the cracked stone, some depicting images of creatures Yomi recognized from storybooks. The most prominent of them being the visage of a mighty dragon, concocted from swirling runes that made up its outstretched wings and powerful jaws. The other was that of… a Griffin, if she remembered mythology correctly, both curling toward from the passageway over hallowed ground.

“What is this place…?” Mira muttered, nose scrunching up a bit as she stared around the cave in a mixture of wonder and perplexion, “Maybe this is why we somehow survived...something like...I don’t know.”

“Magic?” Yomi provided quietly, eyes catching on the dragon’s image and lingered there. Something about it held her attention, like a feather-light touch on the edge of her consciousness. She could remember things from her childhood, the storybooks her father used to read at bedtime telling of amazing, enchanting fantasies. Dragons were always her favorite, always the ones she associated with him the most before he…

Don’t. The therapist talked about this, didn’t she?

Mira didn’t seem to want to say what Yomi had, only nodding despite how utterly baffling it sounded in the open air. Magic was a thing of movies, tv shows and books. Surely believing in it was a foolish thing, something utterly childish? But there was no other explanation, not when all of reality’s options had been extinguished.

“...We don’t have to think about it yet,” Yomi sighed, grunting when she hefted Mira up a bit more and started for that open passageway, “For now, we should focus on getting out of here--your phone isn’t going to stay on forever, there’s no signal down here...I don’t think anyone will look for us.”

Mira shook her head, water pattering down her brow and past her eyelashes, “My Dad would. He would never stop looking.”

Yomi paused a moment, remembering that Mira’s father was chief of police in the town. She had seen him a few times hanging out at the local cafe, getting his morning coffee with her in tow. Not to mention the few times he had stopped by the “house” to talk to her step father about his business, or about events hosted by him in town. Mira was right... her parents were not like Yomi’s, they would push to look for them no matter the cost. But...was staying in this room to wait really a good option? How many days would it take to reach a place like this, so deep into the Earth? The nervous, long-haired girl hesitated in front of the passageway, staring back at the pool of water and biting her lip. 

They could survive without food for about...what, three weeks? At least from what she could remember hearing in class, that was the only number her mind could conjure up. Barring any obstacles or future cave-ins, was sitting in this area for that long wise, or could they look forward a bit for any signs of a way out? This area was clearly touched by something other than nature, whether that was magic or not Yomi wasn’t sure. But there could be an exit, and she was willing to look for anything that could help at least.

“What should we do…?” The girl murmured, almost to herself as those hazel eyes lingered on the chasm before them stretching into darkness, “The marks are coming from this way...maybe we should go looking to see where they come from? But if people actually do come looking for us…”

Mira shrugged her shoulders, still looking a bit shaken and wincing when her weight shifted onto her legs a bit too much, “Maybe you should go on ahead yourself? I’m just dead weight at this point.”

She sounded incredibly glum with that statement, eyes staring at the tunnel with biting curiosity and a hint of aggravation. Frustrated--the redhead wanted to see what all this lead to just as much as Yomi did, maybe more. There was no way she could be left behind, not to sit alone in a cave by herself in the dark and soaking wet on top of all those things.

The salt and pepper haired female shook her head, hefting Mira up a little higher and eliciting a quiet grunt of strain, “Don’t worry, I have you Mira. And don’t...don’t call yourself dead weight, please,” She paused, tone a bit quiet as she admitted, “I can’t do this alone...I need you here.”

That made Mira blink in surprise, something akin to gratefulness flashing in those emerald eyes. She simply nodded, the arm held around Yomi’s waist squeezing a bit tighter. Understanding established, heads held a little bit higher as they stared down the tunnel with apprehension. Air was flowing from it, warmer than what was in the pool of water and its surrounding space and tinged with a hint of...something? Just like what both had smelled earlier when light had raged through the caves above. Like the air was bathed in the scent of a presence-- dark and smokey, forbidden. The only comparison Yomi could find was the sense of night time, or the unbridled foreboding that came from sitting in a dark room with absolutely no light allowed in. It encapsulated apprehension in its purest form, giving it substance.

Yomi sucked in a shuddering breath, stepping forward into the darkness and making sure to keep her footing steady. Mira lit up the path with her phone, staring forward with wariness as they left the cave pool behind. Each sound seemed overly loud in the space, bouncing off the cave walls both forward and backwards. Echoing endlessly, the sensation it brought forth crawling along Yomi’s spine like the dance of fingernails. We shouldn’t be here, her mind whispered in warnings, growing louder and louder as they continued forward, Someone will hear us. But who? Surely there would be no one down here, not so deep in the Earth? Maybe not a person, but...something else.

The thought made her shiver, which Mira felt instantly.

“Hey, you alright?” She asked in concern, turning those emerald eyes to meet Yomi’s hazel, “Maybe we should stop for a second, carrying me can’t be easy I’d imagine.”

Yomi shook her head in denial, firming the hold she had on the redhead and footsteps not slowing in the slightest, “I’m okay, I was just thinking about something is all,” Her eyes slipped down to stare at the floor, wincing when the tingle of discomfort continued its torment on her body, “Something doesn’t feel right, like we’re walking into a lion’s den with the threat of being eaten looming over our heads.”

Mira’s shudder mimicked her own, a heavy frown on her lips as she replied softly, “Yeah, I feel that too.”

There was a brief pause between them, that unspoken fear hanging in the air as they continued walking forward. Honestly, what could be said? They had experienced the threat of death once that day, twice in a lifetime now for both of them. Mira during her car accident, and Yomi…

Well. She didn’t want to think about that.

Surprisingly, Mira managed a smile, giving Yomi a light nudge with her head as she added, “When the time comes just yeet me at the lion and bolt, not a damn thing is going to wanna eat me. I’ve practically got a pharmacy swimming in my veins at all times with all the meds I take.”

Yomi cracked a light smirk, a tired one, “Then what purpose does throwing you serve?”

“Headstart. And a show of strength, intimidation tactics.”

Yomi released a snort, shaking her head at even the notion of such a thing working. She appreciated Mira’s attempts at humor to try and lighten the situation, but judging by the nervous smile the redhead wore at was all she could do to cope with the situation. Talking her way through it, covering up fear with jokes in an attempt at distancing herself from it. As always, the other half of this pair was far stronger, far more determined than Yomi was. She felt close to crumbling at any second just from the uncertainty alone, insecurities and worries eating away at the pillars of her already weakened foundation. What could she do if things went south? Absolutely useless in every regard, blaming herself for them being there in the first place.

Even if it wasn’t her fault.

Mira’re presence gave her the needed support to press on, down the long, winding tunnel as it grew warmer. Those smells, the sensations of something bad growing a bit more with each step. It was only when a sound reached their ears did Yomi halt, shock filling her entire being when it started to register that the noise wasn’t your average everyday cave ambiance. Low, grating and harsh as it echoed over the cave walls just as their conversations had earlier...those were voices.

“Are there people down h--” Mira began to hiss, but was promptly silenced by Yomi’s hand over her mouth.  They exchanged a brief glance, that brief pop of relief they felt at any sign of help being extinguished when they pressed a bit closer, trying to make out what was being said in the first place. Steps quiet, bodies pressed against the cave wall and cell phone camera light shut off as they peeked down to see an opening finally at the end of their path. Was that light in the other room? Glowing orange and violet in color, flickering back and forth over what walls they could catch a glimpse of.

The voices grew clearer this close, bouncing around the underground cavern in some sort of argument. Speaking in English, but...precise, each word fluent and punctuated like someone parroting things they once heard from someone else. It was the same way foreigners generally spoke, learning English as a second language but in a way far more particular than the slang Yomi and Mira had grown up with.

“Careful you fool--That tremor must have registered on the Richter scale somewhere above,” One of the strangers growled in irritation, footsteps following their insult toward the far end of whatever the next room was, “What were you told about drawing unnecessary attention from humans?”

What? Yomi and Mira exchanged a quick glance in the darkness, the way he spoke making both girls uneasy. Humans...implying that they were not ones?

Another voice sighed, tingled with exasperation as they replied almost dolefully, “Do you want this vault open or not? We tried everything else I can think of, brute force is simply the only other option.”

“And look how far it got you…!” Snapped the instigator of this argument, a loud crackle following soon after and punctuated by a low grunt of pain, “Even the backlash of your little attempt could be heard for miles…!”

They continued to bicker, oblivious to Yomi and Mira hovering in the tunnel and throwing insults back and forth. What on Earth were they even talking about? A vault, according to one, but what kind of vault could exist this far down? And then came the mystery of its contents...this was definitely not something that was meant to involve the two girls, not by a long shot. They were in over their head, alone in a cave system with an unidentifiable group of strange people doing strange things with the danger level far too high. Even if they had stayed in the other cave, these arguing strangers could have easily found them and done god knew what. As it stood, there was no way out backwards, and forward was a mystery all the same.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, literally. And there was nothing they could do.

Yomi jolted a bit when a third voice added itself to the play, low and cloying as it whispered, “So noisy,” There was a following tap of what sounded to be heels walking over the floor, that smooth purr continuing on, “The magical artifacts we are seeking will be retrieved one way or another--you both must simply decide if you want to admit failure to General Strauss.”

General Strauss? Magical artifacts? Were these people in the military by chance? 

The first voice to speak groaned, their suggestion not sounding appealing in the slightest, “I would rather pass up on dying--gateways like these are usually so easily unlocked! But this one has no riddles, no shortcuts around its charms at all that would allow us in. It is so bizarre.”

“That just means it holds something far more valuable than anticipated.” The smooth voice replied, sounding very interested in whatever this vault held inside. Heels tapped on stone, their hushed voice murmuring something in a foreign language that rolled off their tongue like water. It caused an immediate reaction, the discomfort in the air spiking enough that Yomi started to feel physically sick. But there was no time to react, to do anything of the sort before an anomaly ripped across the surrounding space. There was another hum of energy, passing through the cave walls behind Yomi’s back in a flash of heat--she bit down on a yelp, jolting off of the surface and shivering at the sudden searing pain that was left behind. 

But the motion caused them both to stumble, Mira’s phone clattering from her hand onto the cave floor too loud for comfort. Son of a bitch. Yomi froze, ragged, pained breathes leaving her lungs as all three voices paused, going deadly quiet at the sound that they made. Mira shot her companion a look of panic, eyes filled with worry and fear as she took in the new injury she bore in the bare skin of her back and shoulders. Another burn, the runic symbols seared into flesh and stinging in the most unbelievable way. But they couldn’t linger, couldn’t stay here despite how much it hurt--there was a distinct sound from the outer cave, like metal sliding from sheaths and footsteps rapidly approaching. They’re armed, we need to run.

But where can we go? The only way is back and it’s a dead end.

“Go…!” Yomi whispered in desperation, tugging Mira along and swallowing down a whimper of pain from the mark on her back. She didn’t argue or resist, doing her best the push her feet along and give as much momentum as they could. The sound of their footsteps was far too loud--the pursuing strangers definitely heard it, one letting out a rasping growl of delight as metal scraped along the cave wall in an ear-splitting screech.

“We have eavesdroppers.” It was the smooth talker, their voice now low and grating as it started drawing up closer from behind.

 Yomi’s brain scrambled, trying to think up any scenario to get them out of this situation, contemplating letting Mira crawl along on her own and using herself as a decoy--but would that really stop the three from looking for more people down there? They could easily find Mira on their own, and no other scenario would be viable. Too exposed, too stuck--Yomi couldn’t leave the girl on her own and refused to look at her as a weakness. It was the salt and pepper haired girl who caused the sound that alerted them in the first place. As always...she screwed everything up, and was dragging Mira down with her.

Running was useless, and that became very apparent within moments of trying to reach that pool again.

Another crackle rang out, that low hum filling the tunnel in a burst of heat and unpleasant sensations. If there was any doubts about magic before...all were quickly squashed under the oppressive boot of evidence that followed soon after. Their escape was halted in an instant, Mira releasing a startled yelp and collapsing to her knees, sending Yomi stumbling forward into a wall--no, not a wall. Something else, something far worse. A soundless cry of alarm left her lips, hazel eyes snapping up to see black hands manifest from the walls, glowing with violet veins as they latched onto Yomi’s bare shins, arms and neck, holding her squirming in place. What the hell are these things?! It hurts, it hurts it hurts! Yomi’s head screamed in alarm, hazel eyes locked on Mira as another hand clamped over the shout emerging from her lips.

“Yomi!” Mira cried, trying to pull herself up from the floor but quickly being pinned down by her own set of arms from the other side. They pressed her face down into the stone, face scraped slightly and leaving a painfully red trail over her left cheek. She at least had the good graces to look furious, eyes shooting back and forth as she struggled to be free, but these limbs had no give.

Yomi, however, stared in terror as three figures approached from the direction they had tried to flee, bringing a violet glow with them.

She didn’t recognize the newcomers, but that was to be expected. Varying in heights and skin tones, all three stared at the struggling girls with a mixture of surprise and dark amusement. The smooth voice they heard belonged to the one in front, there was no doubt--they met Yomi’s gaze, the white of their eyes black instead of white with glowing violet irises. Pale in comparison to the other two, with dark brown hair cropped short on the sides with a long braid extending down their back. The ones who had bickered previously glared in Mira’s direction, one dark skinned with black and grey locks and the other looking fairly similar in appearance. Siblings maybe? 

Yomi couldn’t be certain, but it scarcely mattered. Especially not when the one in heels pressed a single foot to Mira’s back, digging down hard enough to wrangle out a pained whimper from the redhead.

Stop it! Yomi wanted to scream, but the sound refused to come out with the phantom hand pressed so tightly to her lips.

“Humans? Down here?” Purred the pale stranger, eyes darting between Yomi and Mira in amusement, “So young and pretty...how did you little larks manage to get down here…?”

“Fuck you…!” Mira spat, face still pressed to the ground and eyes glaring daggers at the one holding them down.

Being aggressive was definitely not helping the situation, not by a long shot. The main aggressor raised an amused brow, lips quirking into a smirk as they knelt down and grabbed a fistful of Mira’s hair to wretch it back. I can’t do anything, I’m useless--Yomi was held helpless, prone and watching in terror and anger as Mira grit her teeth in pain. It only seem to make the braided one more gleeful, eyes glowing and inhuman in the dark.

“Feisty,” They observed, carding their other fingers through Mira’s bangs and giving a dreamy sigh, “Redheads are always such wonderful magic users, it would be a shame to waste.”

Those black and violet eyes leveled on Yomi, still suspended by those hands mere feet away with obvious fear written all over her face. Whatever idea they had, she wanted no part of it--especially not when that smirk turned into a full on grin, fingers releasing Mira’s hair only to press her skull back against the hard ground. Tapping rhythmically, in patterns of three as they contemplated whatever plan they had in mind. One, two, three. Pause. Then back again, making Mira hiss lightly in annoyance and struggle more.

But the newcomer wasn’t phased, inclining their head to the ones standing by and watching. Their following words made Yomi’s blood run cold, and Mira’s too judging by the look of sheer terror in her emerald eyes, “The only thing we haven’t tried is a sacrificial ritual--what convenient timing you ladies have, we were in need of some innocent blood.”

We’re so screwed, Yomi’s frantic thoughts whispered, wailed and screamed. She struggled more against the hands, nails digging into her palms as she shouted mentally, Let us go! LET US GO!

But the dark stranger was oblivious to her thoughts, rising from Mira’s thrashing form and ignoring the redhead’s snarls of, “You can’t just do that! You fucking psycho…!” Instead they flicked their fingers, causing the hands holding both girls to snap in attention and start pulling them forward like puppet strings. Mira dragged along the floor, Yomi held suspended like a tense ragdoll as they were brought into the room beyond. What could she do? What was she supposed to do? Outnumbered and outclassed, going up against forces beyond her comprehension. Magic, these people were using magic. Monsters? Devil worshipers? So many scenarios were playing in her head, none would stick.

They didn’t stop as she looked around the new area, heart pounding at what was clearly the vault the three wanted to get into.

The doors of it were massive, made entirely out of stone and carved with numerous runes and markings neither classmate understood. It was intimidating, eerie with how the symbols on the floor stretched out from underneath the barest of seams between the cave stone and the doors themselves. What could possibly be hidden inside of something like that, especially if those contents were worth killing them over? She didn’t get it, there was too much Yomi didn’t understand. All the girl knew was that her life hung in the balance, a third scrape with death she neither needed, nor wanted.

Third times the charm, right?

“It has been so long since I preformed a good blood ritual,” One of the dark-skinned siblings mused, eyeing Yomi with a strange mixture of mirth and anticipation, “What a shame to waste such a beauty.”

“You would lie down with a human?” The other remarked with some disgust, their expression somewhere between being annoyed and dismissive of the two girls, “Non-magic types are disgusting.”

If Yomi had a free mouth, she decided that spitting on this person would be the best course of action. But the thought didn’t have time to linger for long, not with the leader of this rag-tag group drawing the attention back of their counterparts.

Fingers snapped loudly, dropping Yomi and Mira unceremoniously on the ground feet apart from each other--the redhead was immediately grabbed by the two side lackeys, held thrashing and yelling by their unyielding hands. Much to Yomi’s dismay, she herself was deposited right in the middle of this room, a large symbol underneath her body as she struggled to rise up again. Do they intend to kill me first? My blood could easily fill the divots on this floor, running and dripping until they reached those doors--

The dark-haired monster smiled again, pressing that heel to Yomi this time to hold her down. It dug into the burns on her back, a choked scream of pain lodged in the girl’s throat like barbed wire and barely managing to scrape out.

I’m going to die.

“I so love seeing flesh marked with my magic,” The smooth talker murmured, running a hand through Yomi’s silken locks and releasing a light sigh, “Not a redhead like your friend, but I do wonder how you came about such interesting colors.” They rose up slightly, eyeing Yomi’s struggling companion with a glint of satisfaction in their eyes, “One should be enough--redheads are far too useful to waste, and humans are easy to break. Even with her damaged legs she’s still far more useful than you, little girl.”

Were they going to take Mira away then? The prospect of kidnapping somehow seemed worse, especially with what this person was implying. They would break her--either through torture or things far more despicable, she didn’t want to imagine. Yomi found the strength to struggle, thrashing under the foot holding her down and ignoring the flash of pain that razed over her back as a result.

“Dont…!” She shouted, voice echoing off the cave walls and making the stranger stare in bemused surprise, “Leave her alone, let her go…!”

“Yomi…!” Mira cried in response, only to have her mouth promptly covered by the gloved hands of one of her captors. Muffled yelling followed, the redhead struggling with every ounce of strength she possessed and making the siblings grunt in aggravation.

Yomi opened her lips again to shout, only to find those black hands gripping her again. They flipped the girl’s struggling form over, the motion cracking her head against stone and bringing dizziness within the pain. Several pinning her legs down, then her arms in turn. This position allowed those hazel eyes to meet the ones of the aggressor again, seeing no ounce of pity or regret reflected back. No...there was eagerness in those violet irises, a sadistic delight that made Yomi’s skin crawl. There would be no reasoning with people like this, not by a long shot. If there was any doubt about evil existing in her world, it was now extinguished by that look she saw alone. A darkness lived in this person, one that the human girl had never seen in her life.

And it would be the final thing she would ever see again.

One of those black hands wretched her head back again, hair fisted tight enough to make tears spring to her eyes. Rough and unyielding, tight as a vise and refusing to let go. It took Yomi a few moments to realize that it was exposing her throat, eyes locked on the door behind her as the familiar slide of metal against metal was heard in the air. A knife? Dagger? Sword? They’re going to slit my throat, and leave me to bleed out onto the ground. She didn’t want to die, she didn’t want to go out this way. On a filthy cave floor, with no one to care and no people left behind that would miss her. Not like this, not after I just survived the fall.

Help us. Somebody help us.

“Your blood will make a fine sacrifice to this vault,” Purred the stranger, pressing the tip of their knife to Yomi’s pale, smooth throat, “And if that fails...well. At least we have a newcomer to bring back to play with.”

I don’t want to die.

Yomi stared with wide, unblinking eyes at the door, mind screaming with every ounce of strength it had while a loud, throbbing roar filled her ears. Panic, adrenaline, fear...Mira’s muffled cries were drowned out by this sensation, the stinging of her back and hand fading under the intense pounding in her chest. Someone save me, please. Every name of every god she knew bounced around her skull, calling out for a savior that wouldn’t come. This was not how she would end, not at the hands of people like this. The fear was white hot and balmy, choking and stifling. It raced through Yomi’s veins like fire, filled to the brim as tears slid down from hazel eyes. Once again, there were no flashbacks of her life, no reliving the memories that once plagued her existence for so god damn long.

And maybe that was for the best.

I don’t want to die.

Please.

Somebody--Anybody.

The stranger wielding the dagger reared back, hissing out something in a language Yomi didn’t understand. Another low hum of energy burned underneath her skin, the responding scream of pain muffled by those black hands. No more room to struggle, hopes dashed across the stones. In the end, her death would come in the dark, blood left to pool in the symbols and runes as an offering to something she would never understand.

And in that moment, she decided that she never wanted to.

Save us.

That flash of silver started to head for her throat, glinting the violet light of the monster’s glowing eyes as they went to deal the killing blow. Mira released a muffled scream of denial, the sound of her desperately trying to get away from the rough hands holding her back barely audibly above Yomi’s own heartbeat. But before the dagger could reach its mark, before it could rip into the waiting arteries in her throat and spill even a drop of blood...Something began to happen.

A loud crack of sound rang out in the cave. 

Tremors made the attacker stumble, a grunt of shock leaving their lips as Yomi watched the doors behind her glow with two different colors of energy. A light, icy blue and shining gold--a sense of strange calm battled with the dark energy in the air, washing it away like a cool breeze of a fall day. It traveled along the markings lining its stone surface in a flash of light, weaving along the floor and walls just as the other bursts had. Only this time it didn’t cause a raze of agony on Yomi’s flesh--it instead caused all three of the captors to fly back, dull shrieks ringing out as them tumbled feet away in a flash of stinging steam. Something about this new energy hurt them, the one holding the dagger dropping it like they had been tased and writhing in agony. What is going on? They didn’t spill my blood, didn’t cut me at all--

So how did their ritual work?

Mira collapsed on the ground where they dropped her, eyes wide and staring at Yomi as the doors started to creep open, loud and groaning after god knew how long they spent close. A cloud of dust rolled up from the ground--but it wasn’t dust at all, Yomi realized, feeling a wet heat roll over her exposed skin. It was steam, smoke--moist air billowed out of the inky blackness in clouds, obscuring the doorway in mist as the aggressors scrambled to their feet, recovering from what happened and no longer filled with glee. No...that was fear in their eyes now, deep rooted shock and disbelief as the doors finally settled into an open position, a charged heat in the air making each breath heavy.

Silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, a low bass hum similar to that of the other magic filling the air. But this felt less oppressive, at least to the girls experiencing it. The ones who tried to kill her took a couple steps back in alarm, weapons raised and violet orbs of magic floating around the braided one in some sort of protective circle as they hissed something in that foreign language.

It sounded like they were cursing.

Yomi was panting and wheezing as she tried to pull herself up from the floor, realizing belatedly that the energy had knocked out whatever was causing the dark hands to hold her down. The one who meant to kill her didn’t even spare the injured human a passing glance, violet eyes wide and furious as they stared beyond her at the doorway. Mira was staring at the doors now as well, legs tucked underneath her in an uncomfortable position, but she paid it no mind.

What was going on? What was happening?

Yomi turned weakly, heart pounding painfully in her chest as she rolled over to look into the darkness as well. Every movement brought the sting of agony in her back, tears still rolling down her cheeks as she sought to see through the billowing mist in the doorway. Eyes wide and staring, the silence in the room only broken by a heavy thud that approached mere feet away from her prone form. Something was coming closer, and she was too rooted with shock and fear to move away.

The smoke and steam curled into clouds, reaching up toward the craggy ceiling as something started to emerge from the dark, illuminated only by torches left burning on the walls and the low glow of magic still lingering on the floor. The attackers behind the human girls readied their weapons, low hisses of shock and disgust ringing out as they spotted what it was much faster and easier than the oblivious humans. But their eyes soon adjusted to the dark, the white and black-haired girl staring in mute shock at the image that awaited her. Honestly, what could she have expected to emerge from the tomb?

Not this.

Never this.

Yomi’s breath hitched in her throat, everything in the room fading to white noise as she met the gaze mere feet from her face.

Icy blue eyes stared back from silver scales, teeth bared on a snout that was almost canine in appearance. But far larger, far more intimidating with the sharp scales and twin sets of horns curling back from its head. The pupils of its eyes were thin slits, animalistic and filled with emotions she didn’t understand, breath hot as it growled out from its mighty maw. Yomi couldn’t comprehend what it was for a moment, mind blanking in shock and confusion as it took another thudding step forward, claws scraping on stone and a huge, arching body curling out from the smoke. Wings unfurled from its spiked back, reaching up toward the top of the doorway and brushing against the craggy rocks that hung down, knocking a few loose. She couldn’t look away, she couldn’t move. Transfixed by fear, by so many emotions running through her skull. Even as the creature came closer, its snout practically inches from her face. Close enough that its hot breath sent her hair back a bit.

But shockingly enough, amidst all of that fear and shock...was absolute awe.

The creature didn’t back down from her gaze, a second, transparent inner vertical eyelid sliding over the icy blue pupil staring at her own. And it was in that moment, clarity hit Yomi like a freight train, sending her heart into overdrive as the creature finally came to a halt. Its long whiskers twitched at her, snout sniffing the air and releasing a cloud of steam that traveled through her lungs and over the already stinging skin on her back.

It was those whiskers that finally tipped her off. Because she had seen if before, on the Chinese dragons that were depicted in storybooks and movies. Long and elegant, with silvery fur underneath that scaly chin and lining its chest all the way down to where it disappeared between those front legs. Only this creature was far bigger, like a nice mix between the tradition dragons in storybooks and ones of Chinese myth.

That is when it finally clicked in place, the words slipping out from her lips in a barely there whisper that was lost to the growling of the creature’s lungs.

“Dragon.”

Chapter One

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[thelittleredheadedmusician]

Permanently Barred

My very first Barricade Day fic! While it is set in my Crooked Politician AU it is 100% standalone! HUGE shout out to @wordshakerofgallifrey  thank you for letting me bounce ideas off of you and for finding me pretty clothes for the boys and for putting up with my utter exhausted inability to comprehend hats. <3 Rating: PG-13 for mild fisticuffs Words: 2,890 Gen AO3

There was a slight crash from elsewhere in the House. Enjolras didn’t react though, there was always a slight crash from somewhere in the House. At this point in his life he was beginning to believe that there was just always going to be the sound of minor crashes in his vicinity. So, he kept working not fully registering the sound.

He did register Courfeyrac’s howling as it resolved itself into words being sung from directly in front of him.

“I wanna go- ou-OOUT toNII-IGHT!”

Enjolras paused but didn’t look up from his laptop as he tried to place the line. He frowned when it finally clicked and almost didn’t want to look up from his laptop, fully expecting to see Courf dripping glitter and wearing fishnets and leopard print like Mimi had in the movie. Grantaire had made him watch RENT Live with the rest of the ABC but they had all agreed not to speak of it and as such he honestly couldn’t remember the scene in that version. Also, his brain was a bit overstuffed on more pressing matters; like getting the proper permits for the rally that Cosette, Musichetta, and Eponine had taken point on organizing.

Bracing himself he glanced up. Enjolras was shocked by Courfeyrac’s outfit for a very different reason. He wore a full suit with a vest and bowtie, an umbrella clutched in one hand, hat in the other as he threw his arms out. It wasn’t the boring cut and colors worn by those who worked on the Hill either. It was a deep green that was almost black with the vest an incrementally lighter hue with metallic threads and the bowtie a mossy green. Or at least he’d call it mossy, Grantaire could tell him the exact shade later. The cut was impeccable and Enjolras could tell it had been expensive which might explain why he’d never seen it before. Alternatively, it might not as Courf didn’t shy away from his family’s wealth if it was for a good purpose and investing in a quality suit for various functions definitely counted as such.

Courf grinned and carefully set his hat onto his cloudlike head of curls. “C’mon Enj, take a break. You’ve been driving yourself crazy feeling like your hands are tied on these bills while simultaneously running yourself ragged helping the ladies get all their ducks in a row for the rally. Plus,” his expression slipped from charming to pleading, “it’s my birthday.”

“No, it’s not. Your birthday was ages ago,” he felt compelled to point out.

That earned him an eyeroll. “Yes and I turned twenty-one and we couldn’t go out and party properly because it was right before the election and then we kept pushing it off and pushing it off because there were admittedly much more important things but we all agreed that once the semester was officially over for everyone we’d have me a birthday party. The time has come my friend.”

Enjolras felt his brows pull together as he thought. “When did we do that?”

“April,” Courfeyrac said fondly. “After I had to cancel it again because I got picked to be a lawyer in the moot Supreme Court that was my ConLaw final. We all agreed to an arbitrary date in early June. It is now said arbitrary date and I got an A in that class so we’re going. Now.”

Enjolras knew that there was no arguing with Courfeyrac when he was like this. Besides, he was sure he’d agreed to this back in April and in the haze of finals and everything else in the past two months had just forgotten about it. If Enjolras was being quite honest with himself, he hadn’t been fully aware that it was even June. That did explain why the giant pride flag was hanging in the front window though.

He raised a finger to Courf, asking him to wait and just knowing Courf was raising his eyebrows in response. Enjolras finished the sentence he had been typing, hit save, and closed his laptop. “Ok. Give me a second to change.”

“Wait, you’re not going to fight me on this?” Courf trailed after him as he headed for the stairs.

“It’s your birthday,” Enjolras replied. He stopped with his foot on the stairs and turned to grin at Courfeyrac.

This was met with a huge smile and an equally huge hug before Courf was pushing past him and rushing up the steps. “I am not letting you dress yourself then! You obviously have no memory of what you agreed to and I refuse to let you ruin this for me!”

~

“This is such a tourist trap,” Enjolras said as he sneered in the direction of the White House.

“Yes,” Courf conceded, “but I’d never been and it’s the roof of The Willard and I’m only a local by virtue of the college I attend.”

“Besides, we’re not the only non-tourists here,” Ferre said and jutted his chin in the direction of a group of men, all dressed in suits that were decidedly more boring than Courf’s and decidedly cheaper. They were the uniform of staffers and lobbyists. While not out of place in the city they were out of place there at that hour.

“Well,” Courf huffed, “you two can stand here and people watch all night but it’s my birthday and I’m going to have a good time. And look! There’s our friends! Doing the same thing!”

Courfeyrac raised his glass in the direction of where Bahorel and Grantaire had managed to pull Feuilly onto the dance floor and headed towards them. Enjolras watched as Jehan emerged from the crowd, head thrown back and laughing wildly with Marius and Eponine trailing behind. Musichetta was still at the table next to them though, swirling her drink and giggling at the memory of Bossuet spilling his own all over himself before being ushered off to the bathroom to be cleaned up by Joly.

“At the very least we could go eavesdrop on them,” Ferre suggested dryly.

That made Enjolras snort. “Why not. Liquor makes for loose lips, might learn something interesting.”

~

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes when he noticed them camped out at the table next to the group of young men. They were rather loud to begin with and as the night went on and the drinks flowed faster they got even louder.

Enjolras bristled as they made yet another prejudiced remark. His friends were starting to tire, needing to catch their breath and wanting to chat.

“Any reason you’re here holding down the fort, Enj?” Bahorel asked, clapping him on the shoulder as he came up to them.

He jerked his head towards the table next to them and Bahorel raised an eyebrow, slotting himself between Enjolras and the other table silently. One of them made another remark and Bahorel’s other eyebrow rose to meet his first.

“All night,” Enj muttered acidly.

Bahorel shook his head and moved closer to Enjolras and further from the men.

“And you haven’t said anything?” Feuilly asked, genuinely surprised.

Combeferre snorted. “Oh, he’s said lots of things; just under his breath.”

“I’m trying to be on my best behavior,” he muttered darkly.

“Oh really? And how’s that working out for you?” Grantaire teased. He shot a dark look towards him in response.

Marius’s phone began to ring loudly, preventing him from formulating a proper retort as everyone’s attention turned towards watching the other boy scramble to pull the device from his pocket before it stopped.

“It’s Cosette, I promised we’d talk every night while she’s on vacation. I have to take this,” Marius said in lieu of apology. He quirked a smile before rushing off towards a quiet corner of the bar and picking up.

“I’d be mad if they weren’t so damn cute,” Courf sighed.

There were mumbled agreements but Enjolras’s attention was once again drawn to the table beside them. “That’s it,” he muttered before whirling on them. “You really believe that you’re making the world a better place? For who? Please, tell me.”

The men blinked, dumbfounded or blindsided he didn’t know and didn’t care.

“Because all you’re really doing is making it a better place for people like you and worse for everyone else. People like you who don’t even need it. Who society panders to and has for centuries. While millions of people struggle every day just for an inch of respect. And then what do you do? You don’t even give them that.” Enjolras hadn’t meant to but his voice had gotten incrementally louder as he spoke and he found himself out of breath from yelling, his chest heaving as adrenaline decided to pour into his system.

“What’s your problem, man? Why do you even care?” One of them asked.

Enjolras closed his eyes and tried to keep his temper in check, really he did, but the question was too similar to the way Grantaire would rile him at meetings and it elicited an almost Pavlovian response. He exploded.

“Why do I care? I care because I’m a decent human being. I care because I want to help. I care because I can make a difference. I care because I know people will listen to me when they might not listen to someone else. I care because there are real life people out there who need someone to care about them. I care because caring is the bare minimum you can do.”

Enjolras could feel his friends closing ranks around him. Suddenly Combeferre and Bahorel were at his shoulders and he could feel someone, Courfeyrac or maybe Feuilly, press a hand into his back. Joly and Jehan were at the corners of his vision and he could see Bossuet and Musichetta begin to speed towards them from across the bar; Eponine and Grantaire were unseen but he knew they were there too.

“Grow up kid. And learn to hold your liquor,” one of them jeered and the others all laughed. Enjolras tensed but Bahorel was already moving, launching himself at them.

“Learn to hold your tongue,” he snarled as his fist connected with the guy’s jaw.

For a second, the jerks all froze. It was all the group of friends needed to begin moving. None of them were strangers to fights and at this point they could all tell when a brawl was brewing, if they didn’t strike first then it would be too late for them.

Enjolras had only taken two steps towards the table when they got over their surprise and he was forced to block a messy punch before countering with a solid one of his own. Bahorel had started giving him the occasional boxing lesson and R had insisted that they practice together, saying they could take out mutual frustrations on a punching bag instead of each other and insisting that for Enj it was a necessary life skill. These all paid off as the guy stumbled back, clutching at his nose as blood streamed from it.

He heard a gasp and looked up to see that Bossuet and Musichetta had reached them. And that Musichetta had just upended the drinks she had been carrying over one of their heads. He laughed at the satisfaction it brought to her fierce expression.

His distraction had cost him though because suddenly he felt himself careening to the side, his temple stinging. Enjolras had been punched in the side of the head and it had made stars burst behind his eyes. Dizzy, he spun to try and face his assailant, only to find that Eponine had already grabbed him and forced him to the ground. Likely after a kick to the balls and a knee to the gut. He nodded his thanks to her and she nodded grimly back. Her hair had come loose of the careful twists she had it in and she swiped at the strands as she turned to help Jehan.

Turning himself, Enjolras found the man he initially punched had recovered and joined two others and were slowly backing Courfeyrac and Combeferre towards the wall. He rushed over and slammed his foot into the back of the guy’s knee, kicking him once more as Courf and Ferre each went after the others.

“Gotta say,” Courf gasped as they quickly stepped away from where the three were slowly trying to get up, “this is not how I saw tonight going.”

“Happy birthday,” Combeferre offered with sarcastic tilt to his lips.

“I don’t know, Courf,” Enjolras couldn’t help but start to smile himself, “I think teaching some dicks a lesson is a great birthday present.”

Courfeyrac huffed. “Well now I know what to get you.”

Enjolras laughed, temporarily distracted. It cost him. He was clipped in the chin and sent stumbling into Courfeyrac and Combeferre.

“Oh no you don’t,” Grantaire said, appearing behind the man who had begun to bear down on them. R grabbed the man by the shoulder and whirled him around, punching him directly in the face before grabbing his shoulders and hauling him down to meet the knee that he was shooting up and aiming for the man’s stomach.

The man toppled easily and with it Enjolras finally got a clear view of Grantaire who looked more than a little worse for wear. Drinks, blood, and other liquid now dotted his nice shirt and the hat he’d been wearing when they arrived was gone. R reached out a hand and Enjolras took it, letting him help pull him to his feet. Looking down Enjolras realized that he wasn’t in much better shape, his blazer was rumpled and there was a new rip somehow in the knee of his jeans.

“You ok?” Grantaire was asking as around them the fighting came to a near sudden stop. Management had finally taken notice and sent a bouncer to break it up.

“Fine,” Enjolras said, wiping his hair out of his face.

“I’m going to ask you all to leave,” the bouncer was saying.

“Gladly!” Courfeyrac jutted his chin into the air and smoothed down his ruined jacket. “We don’t want to be somewhere we’re not welcome and they made it pretty obvious we’re not welcome.”

Courfeyrac began marching towards the exit and the rest of them quickly followed. Leaving the jerks behind with the bar’s manager and bouncer and bill. Rather than try and squeeze in the elevator or risk getting caught while waiting for it they all made a beeline for the stairs. Bossuet bent to give Joly a piggyback and soon they were all making a break for it.

Soon they were all spilling out onto the sidewalk, laughing and whooping from the high of the fight still singing through their veins. “Now what?” someone asked as they haphazardly made their way in the general direction of the Federal Triangle metro stop.

“We celebrate our victory! To the House!” Courf crowed, still leading the way.

“But we got kicked out!” Joly pointed out, still on Bossuet’s back. “That’s not exactly a victory.”

“But they did too,” Combeferre shrugged. “A stalemate is not a defeat.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it a stalemate,” Grantaire quirked an eyebrow.

Jehan let out a loud whoop. “That’s because until they kicked us out we were WINNING!”

They all cheered at that and Enjolras raised his hands over his head as he clapped.

“Wait!” Eponine said suddenly and everyone stopped, turning to face her. “Where’s Marius?”

Enjolras furrowed his brow, he couldn’t remember seeing Marius during the fight. He looked around frantically, examining each of his friends. They would all need to use the first aide kit later but none of them were Marius.

“Did he ever come back from talking to Cosette?” Musichetta asked.

That’s when it hit Enjolras. “No,” he breathed out, “he didn’t.” They had left poor Marius behind. He probably hadn’t even realized that they were the ones in the fight. Granted, he could infer, but still.

“Someone call him,” Combeferre said firmly but Eponine already had her phone out and put it on speaker. They all crowded together around her.

“Eponine?” came the small voice from the phone. “Where are you guys?”

“Ohmygod, Marius are you ok?” Eponine asked quickly.

“We got kicked out, we’re on the other side of Freedom Plaza,” Enjolras said at the same time.

“Oh thank god, I was worried. I mean, I saw the fight but then it was over and you were gone and now I’m standing here with the manager and she’s really pissed,” Marius said in a rush. Enjolras winced. When he spoke again it was softer, just above a whisper. “I managed to keep her from pressing charges or making you pay damages, but you’re all permanently banned.”

Everyone seemed to let out a sigh of relief and Enjolras distinctly heard Bahorel mutter “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Marius you’re a life saver,” Enjolras said honestly. “Meet us back at the House as soon as you can. We all owe you one.”

A chuckle came from the phone. “Ok, see you in a few.”

They all chorused goodbyes and Eponine hung up.

“Well that was close,” Grantaire drawled.

They all looked around at each other a little shell-shocked as the night’s events began to sink in. Enjolras caught Grantaire’s eye and smirked. “At least we’re not dead.”