#I like to think that it’s a nod to the idea of the poker scene being a water cooler moment - a significant moment of television that’s

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Have we talked about the almost empty water cooler they walk past on their way into the poker game?!!!

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Cure [Sex Pollen Trope]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x AFAB Reader x Frank Castle

Trope de Sept Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Sex Pollen Situation 1. A fictional substance that makes the characters experience unbearable pain if they don't fuck. "You, Bucky, and Frank are exposed to a strange chemical in an abandoned Hydra warehouse. And there's only one way to make the effects wear off faster."

Warnings: SMUT/18+ (don’t interact if your age is not in your bio). No use of Y/N. AFAB Reader. Implied sexual assault of and by Bucky during his time as the Winter Soldier. Implied past/current casual sexual relationships between the Reader/Bucky and Reader/Frank. All the dubious consent circumstances that come with sex pollen. Unprotected P in V, threesome, breeding kink, creampies, multiple orgasms, pet names (baby, doll, sweetheart, honey). 

WC: 3,200

A/N: Trope de Sept order got a little shuffle. Don't worry, everything is still coming, I just wanted to space out characters, fic types, etc. now that I have a better idea of what the rest of the fics will be.

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

How you and Bucky managed to get separated from the rest of the team, you weren’t sure.

The Hydra base was recently abandoned. Tipped off that the Avengers were on their way, they scrambled to make their escape, leaving miscellaneous papers, weapons, and other evidence of guilt behind.

You certainly weren’t going to take anyone in on this, but at least you’d have some clues that could maybe point to where they’d be next.

You and Bucky made your way into some kind of lab, the rest of the team raiding other areas of the base. Coms were down, but you weren’t too concerned as there seemed to be no threat that required back up. Hydra left this place abandoned and disheveled due to their hastened exit.  

“Shit. There’s no one here.” Bucky lamented, sending a set of empty beakers crashing to the floor in frustration

“Not no one, but sure as shit ain’t Hydra.” a gravelly voice cut through the darkness of the lab

You and Bucky turned to the source; a tall figure attached to dusty combat boots, vest dripping with white paint smears and long-ago dried blood splatters. He wore a scowl on his tired face, a bruise covering the left side of his jaw, and had a rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Castle.” Bucky nodded toward him

“Barnes. Sweetheart.” he nodded back to the two of you

“I’m sorry– sweetheart? How do you two…” Bucky asked, pointing between you and Frank.

“Remember when you said I should get a hobby? You know when weeks go by and there are no missions?” you said

“I meant like, take up pickleball or crocheting; not get sexually involved with vigilantes.”

“Hey, hey!” Frank rebutted

“Woah!” you also interrupted Bucky’s implication “Who said anything about me sleeping with him? No, I started taking on some– let’s just call them personal cases outside of work. You know, using my powers to be the everyman's hero. I run into Frank on rooftops sometimes.”

“So your hobby is being a superhero, when you’re not at work being a superhero?”

“I mean sometimes we also sleep with each other.” Frank added

Frank was lucky your powers didn’t involve laser vision, or else he’d be burnt to a crisp by the way you glared at him.

“Really, doll? Castle?”

“You know what Bucky, I don’t need judgment from someone who's dating pool includes all four of the Golden Girls. Wait, how do you two know each other?” you motioned between him and Frank

“A mutual friend of ours, Curtis Hoyle, runs a veterans therapy group once a week. It usually also turns into a poker game at my place afterwards.”

“Wilson joins sometimes too.” Frank added

“Didn’t think this was your scene, Castle,” Bucky said, bringing the subject back to the mission “Thought you worked alone. You’re not thinking of joining up are you?”

Frank scoffed. “Nah. Following a lead. Led me here.”

“To a world wide terrorist orginization’s base?”

“You’d be surprised how many of the street level scumbags I chase down are involved in shit like this.”

“So you came here to go all Punisher on them?”

Frank raised an eyebrow and nodded.

“Sure, the Avengers have been playing whack-a-mole with them for years, but the vigilante with a rage problem and a bunch of guns is gonna do it.” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“Fairness to me, didn’t know just what this place was til I got here.”

Bucky let out a deep exhale. He glanced between you and Frank, before returning his focus to the abandoned lab around you.

“Well you’re here now, might as well make yourself useful.”

The three of you looked high and low through the lab and turned up nothing of real value that could even be a glimmer of a lead on what Hydra was planning next or where they had scurried off to.

Bucky used his vibranium arm to bust open the door of a locked walk-in freezer, the last place it seemed you hadn’t searched.

Various test tubes and bags of medical supplies sat on the shelves, some full of odd looking substances, others spilled over and shattered from Hydra’s escape efforts.

Frank walked up to a shelf containing vials of cherry-colored liquid, picking one up in his large hand and examining it curiously.

“Don't touch that!” Bucky exclaimed, lunging forward just as Frank turned his head

Their bodies collided, sending the glass canister spinning into the air and crashing down to the ground. The red substance splashed all over the concrete floor and tiny fragments of glass flew in every direction.

“Castle, please tell me you didn’t just do that.”

“The hell you mean, me? You’re the one who pushed me!” Frank argued back

Bucky’s panic stricken gaze met yours and you had never seen fear quite like this in his eyes.

“Don't breathe.” he commanded

“What do you mean don’t breathe?” you asked, shaking off some of the liquid that splattered on your boot

“Oh god, no no no. It’s too late. We’ve all already been exposed.” Bucky lamented, sinking to the floor with his head in his hands.

“Bucky, what is that stuff? What is going on?”

“It’s a serum.”

“Like a super soldier serum?”

“Yes. But also no. This one’s effects are temporary. And highly potent. And very airborne.”

“Airborne. Like we all just breathed it in?”

“Yep.” he confirmed

“So what does it do? What’s gonna happen to us?” you asked, panic rising in your chest

“When I was theirs,” he motioned to the room around you, implying his time as Hydra’s prisoner “They realized all their sick experiments finally worked on me and they wanted more super soldiers, to replicate what they’d created in my bloodstream. The problem was, this was right around the time Dr. Zola got captured and arrested by the team that would become Shield.”

You glanced up and down the shelves once more, hoping something in here could be used for first aid in treating whatever the hell was about to happen to the three of you.

“So without their best scientist, no matter how many liters of my blood they took and tried to recreate the serum with, they couldn’t. In a last ditch attempt, they thought maybe it could be transferred genetically, They thought maybe they could use me to breed more supersoldiers.”

Your attention snapped back to Bucky.

“Breed? Wait, so they made you…? Oh my god, with who?!” you asked in horror as Bucky revealed yet another disturbing detail of his past

“Usually volunteers for Hydra’s cause. Sometimes other prisoners; women they also had been doing experiments on.”

“That’s disgusting.” you commented

“Believe me, I’m aware.”

“But what does that have to do with that stuff?” Frank motioned to the mess still splattered on the floor

“Zola’s prodigy, a real peach of a human named Dr. Whitehall, wanted to ensure the maximum possibility my DNA would take and the women participants would be as fertile as possible. I mean, after all this shit they did to me before, they thought maybe my swimmers would be pretty fried and they could create something to remedy that. So that stuff is a concoction he created in the 70s, basically it enhances all sexual urges to their most primal instinct, so those exposed are inclined to reproduce.”

“So it’s horny juice?” Frank asked

“Eloquent as always Castle, but yes. I’d say we have about ten more minutes before it kicks in. Once it does, it’s really painful until it’s out of your system or until you act on what it wants you to.” he turned to you “Okay here’s what’s gonna happen– Doll, you’re gonna go outside and lock Frank and me in this freezer so you’ll be safe from us.”

“Safe from you? What do you mean?”

“This stuff, it kinda alters your self control for a while. Like I said, it makes you run more on instinct, especially when the painful side effects hit. Once it starts kicking in, we’ll do anything to get rid of the pain. Frank and I won’t be able to resist you and you won’t be up for putting up much of a fight either. Get somewhere where our coms will work again and radio to the team, have them get you to Banner’s lab immediately. He might be able to concoct something to ease your symptoms for a few days.”

“A few days?!”

“Well it fades faster if you… ya know. But if you don’t, it could take a while to move through your system.”

“What about the two of you?”

“We’ll just have to… take care of ourselves here.” he said, making lewd gesture with his hand “Won’t be as efficient as the real thing, but it’ll help.” 

“I’m not gonna leave the two of you to just jack off and suffer.”

“Sweetheart, we’ll be fine. Just worry about you.” Frank chimed in, agreeing with Bucky

“If the solution is to… you know fuck it out. I mean shit, it’s nothing I haven’t already done with either of you.”

“Excuse me?” Frank inquired, now the one whipping his head to look between the two of you

“Remember in group a couple months ago when I said I got casually involved with a coworker, but broke it off cause it was getting in the way of our work? Well...” Bucky gestured towards you

“Unbelievable.” Frank grumbled with a shake of his head

You sat on the floor across from Bucky, tac suit suddenly feeling a bit too tight and itchy against your skin.

“This freezer we’re in… it’s still on right?” you asked

“Yeah.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m gonna combust at any minute?”

“It’s the serum. Shit, it’s already taking effect.” Bucky rushed over and crouched down beside you “Doll, you sure you don’t want to get out of here?”

“No. I want to stay. I want to help both of you and I don’t want to go through this alone either.” you said, unzipping your jacket and tossing it across the room without a thought, “Jesus it feels like my blood is on fire.”

You fanned yourself with your hands to no avail. This must have been how your mother felt during your teenage years when she’d lament about hot flashes.

Suddenly, you understood what Bucky meant by pain all over your body. It started small, almost like a needle prick, near your abdomen, but rapidly spread like ink on wet parchment.

Evidence that they were both starting to feel it too was showing; the way Frank’s brows were scrunched and how he was keeled over, hands on his knees with white knuckles gripping at his jeans. Bucky’s supersoldier powers combined with his previous exposures to this substance, he seemed reasonably calm compared to the two of you. His blue eyes were glazed over in a vacant stare as he sat on the ground across from you. Sweat droplets were beginning to form on his unusually pale skin. 

“P–please” you begged to both of them, pain suddenly unbearable as you pushed your pelvis off the floor, trying to find relief with friction against nothing.

You reached out to Bucky, but he shook his head no.

“Take care of Frank first.” he lulled his head to look at you “I’m more resistant to it’s effects. I’ll be fine for a while.”

“How many times do we have to… you know, to get it out of our systems?” you asked, still writhing your body against the air.

“As many times as it takes.” Bucky said

“Frankie” you reached a hand forward, beckoning him towards you.

He stumbled as he crossed the room, still slouched over slightly as he walked.

Frank’s cock was obviously strained against his jeans as he crouched down in front of you, deep brown eyes meeting your gaze.

“Sweetheart, you sure?” he asked once more, resistance to the serum fading quickly as he ran the back of two fingers down your arm, stroking you in reassurance.

As soon as his hand brushed your skin, icy relief washed over you, sending goosebumps along your flesh. You had the irresistible urge to press more of his skin against yours, to be as close to him as possible to quell the heat still bubbling beneath the surface.

All you could do was nod in response as you lunged forward, rubbing your hand along the bulge in his pants. Frank whined, a sound you’d never heard him make in the times you’d fallen into bed together, before crashing his lips against yours.

His kisses were fiery, full of tongue and teeth, like he just couldn’t drink enough of you in. Usually so patient and tender in bed, his large hands were now clawing at you, desperately trying to rid you of your clothes as quickly as he could. 

He tugged off your boots in one motion, allowing you to shimmy your pants down your body. Both of your shirts were quickly discarded as well. Fumbling to unbutton his jeans and push them down, Frank let out a relieved sigh as he finally freed his aching cock. The cool air from the freezer hit your sopping cunt, refreshing as another wave of heat rolled through your body as the serum was now fully in control.

You glanced over to Bucky as Frank laid you down on the hard concrete floor. His eyes were squeezed shut in a mixture of pain and pleasure, flesh hand down his pants stroking himself to quell the growing anguish as he listened to you and Frank. 

“Goddamnit doll, I can smell you.” His breathing was labored as he spoke.

Frank reached down, running a trembling finger through your folds.

“Shit Barnes, of course you can, she’s soaked.”

“P– please Frank” You begged again as Frank touched you where you needed him most, the action unknowingly teasing you into more pain.

“Shhh shh shh sweetheart. I know. It’s hurting me too. I’ll take care of you.” Frank reassured, sliding two fingers into you effortlessly

A strained sob slipped from you as he pumped in and out of you, relieved at the sensation but still in so much agony from not getting what you really needed.

“I think you’re ready.” he commented, barely restraining himself from just taking you roughly

You reached for his shoulders, guiding him fully on top of you. As he lowered himself he slid inside you in one motion, sinking all the way in easily. The serum didn’t allow him any pause, hips immediately snapping in and out with rough thrusts, primal need taking full control. His ample length repeatedly hit that perfect spingey spot inside you, causing you to cry out.

God the sounds in the room were downright sinful. Frank, who had been incredibly verbal during your previous trists, now reduced to only groans and grunts being swallowed by your sloppily placed kisses. Bucky’s lewd moans echoed off the walls and combined with the sound of skin slapping and your mewling. The vulgar symphony only spurred you on. Your peak hit you surprisingly quickly, though you attributed that to the foreign chemical invading your system.

It was like no other orgasm you’d ever had, like those viral videos of a firework finale all accidentally exploding at once. It felt endless, like you’d just be there cumming on the floor for the rest of your life.

“Shit honey, keep squeezing me just like that.” Frank finally found his words, climbing his own summit to relief. His large hand gripped at your jaw, steadying you beneath him as his movements became more erratic, an improvised drum solo of a brutal pace.

His dark eyes met yours, pupils blown out as he watched you come apart beneath him once more. Another overwhelming orgasm washed over you, more intense than the last.

That was enough to drag Frank over the edge with you. He pulsed deep inside you, filling you to the brim so much that you could feel it running down your legs before he even pulled back.

“Goddamnit.” he groaned into your shoulder

Sprawled out on the floor, you were an absolute mess of your own slick and sweat and Frank’s cum, but you didn’t care. You still direly needed more relief and knew Bucky must’ve been in total agony by this point; listening and watching you and Frank go at it.

“How you doing sweetheart?” Frank asked as he rolled off you, now a little more clarity that he’d gotten one orgasm out. You could still see the strained muscles in his neck, his skin still a shade of red as his lust was not yet fully satiated. 

“Better. Still hurts a little but much more bearable. Bucky, you ready to take over?”

He was slumped against the wall, eyes still squeezed shut. His jacket and shirt were gone and his pants were undone. But he’d given up on touching himself, knowing it wouldn’t soothe his suffering in the way he needed. You crawled across the floor toward him.

“Hey Buck? Eyes on me baby.”

His eyes snapped open and looked at you, full of desperation and pity.

“Let me help, yeah?” you spoke sweetly

He nodded, watching limply as you fumbled with his fly and exposed his throbbing length.

A switch seemed to flip inside him as you straddled him and sank down, coming alive with an animalistic fervor as you rocked your hips slowly. He let out a hearty exhale feeling your velvety walls all the way down his cock, finally alleviating the anguish he’d been trying so hard to conceal. 

Every sensation in your body was amplified, every touch of Bucky’s skin against yours was exquisite, every caress of his metal arm up and down your back shot like lightning striking straight to your core. You could feel every ridge of his cock, every thrust, every exhale. Overwhelmed by it all, you collapsed against his shoulder, letting him take the reins as he began to pitch himself up into you. How different he was too in this circumstance than the times previously you’d had him. Long languid strokes to ensure you’d feel it all long forgotten in favor of dragging you down by the hips over and over to meet his pace, every slam punctuated by lust and fury. Muttering ‘oh god’ and ‘yes baby please’ into your ear.

A soft caress brushed along the back of your neck, Frank kneeling behind you placing tender, open-mouthed kisses across your shoulder blades as you and Bucky fucked it out. The urge must’ve been building in him again because his hands were all over you and soon enough you weren’t sure whose grasp was where, only vaguely aware because Bucky’s vibranium touch was cool and calm amongst the heightened temperature of your sweaty skin. 

Your orgasm with Bucky blossomed, rising from deep within your core and spreading like wings in the breeze. You cried into his shoulder as he did not relent in his pace, pulling your pelvises flush as he came inside you with a carnal moan.

But you still weren’t satiated and you could tell neither were they. Fuck, this was gonna be a long night. 

[fluentmoviequoter]

Undo It

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You get abducted on your way home and won't talk to anyone after you're saved. Deacon vows to undo all the damage done to you.

Warnings: angst, descriptions of injury/threats/torture, SWAT!reader is abducted and held hostage, Deacon gets very protective, fluff.

Word Count: 5.2k+ words

A/N: One scene in this is inspired by Criminal Minds episode "Riding the Lightning" (1x14). I also don't know how to play poker, so I kinda rushed through that. This is completely self-indulgent; the idea came to my mind while watching season 3 of SWAT and I had to write it. Hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think! :)

Picture from Pinterest

“Two more women have been reported missing from central Los Angeles. The Los Angeles Police Department has not yet commented on whether the recent missing persons reports – of which there have been sixteen in as many days – are connected.”

Deacon mutes the television as Hicks enters. 

“They’re all over us,” Hicks mutters. “But that’s not why I’m here. We got an anonymous tip from one of Luca’s neighbours. There’s a drug buy going down around the corner from his house. You up for it?”

“Who called in the tip? Same guy as last week?” Luca interjects.

“Probably.”

“We’re in. Worst-case scenario, it’s another false alarm,” Hondo says.

“That’s the worst-case scenario?” you repeat. “What’s your idea of a good case scenario, walking into the middle of a drug buy?”

“My arrest record is lookin’ a little thin. Let’s roll,” Hondo teases, patting your shoulder as he walks by.

You roll your eyes, smiling at Deacon as you fall in line behind him. Deacon puts himself on your team for the breach, and you find yourself tucked behind him as he enters a bedroom.

“L.A.P.D., on the ground!” he yells.

You follow him in, placing handcuffs on the two men inside. Hondo and Tan clear the other side of the house while Chris and Street enter from the back. No other suspects are inside, but there is a bathroom filled with drugs.

“Looks like you forgot to flush,” Hondo taunts as he raises a small plastic bag.

Once back in Black Betty, you remove your helmet and lean against Deacon’s side. You keep your head up, and the touch isn’t visible to Tan or Chris across from you, but Deacon welcomes it.

“Need a ride home?” Deacon asks as he offers a hand while you exit Black Betty.

“No, I’m going to walk. I could use the air. Thank you though,” you reply.

“It’s getting late,” Deacon argues.

“I’ll be okay, I promise, Deac.”

Deacon watches you go and considers following you to ensure you get home safe, yet when you promise to call Chris when you get home, he decides he’ll text you later to confirm everything is alright.

✯✯✯✯✯

The last block separating you from your house seems darker than usual. Speeding up, you reach for your back pocket to pull your phone out. None of your team members would mind staying on the phone until you get home, but your mind immediately goes to Deacon. He’d not only answer but probably be in his car before you finished telling him you were concerned or uneasy. Once your phone is in your hand, you watch as someone steps out of the shadows.

“Evening,” you mutter, nodding once as you step to the side.

“It’s a good one now,” he responds. “I’m Matt.”

You ignore him, but when his hand wraps around your arm, you turn quickly, throwing a punch against his jaw.

“Oh, I told you she’d put up a fight,” a second voice says before two hands land on you from behind.

“Night, night,” Matt says, holding his face as a cloth is pressed to your face.

You fight until everything goes dark, and as your head drops, you see your phone on the sidewalk. You know that Deacon will save you… or die trying.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, Chris,” Deacon says as he answers the phone.

Chris says your name, sounding out of breath, before continuing, “Have you heard from her?”

“No. I offered to drive her home, but she wanted to walk. Why?”

“She didn’t call like she said she would. She always calls. And now she’s not answering my calls.”

Deacon takes a deep breath, rubbing his jaw as he attempts to deduce where you could be.

“Something’s wrong,” Chris adds.

“I know, I know. Call the team; I’ll drive by her house and meet you there. Hey, Chris,” he waits for her to hum to finish, “we’ll find her.”

Deacon is at your house faster than usual, slowing as he drives past your driveway. A small light is evident on the sidewalk, the only evidence of life in a strip without a streetlight. He parks, jumping out to run across the road and pick it up. 

“No,” he whispers, looking at your phone. 

What makes finding your phone abandoned on the side of the road worse, he thinks, is that his contact is open. You tried to call him, and based on the new crack across the screen, you needed help. You needed Deacon, and he wasn’t here.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Find anything?” Chris asks when Deacon walks in.

“Her phone,” Deacon answers, laying your phone on the table. “It was unlocked, lying on the sidewalk less than a block from her house.”

“The light-less dead zone?” Luca guesses.

Deacon nods, his jaw tightening as he confirms. He should have insisted on driving you home or been on the phone talking to you the whole time.

“I should’ve just gone with her,” Chris mutters.

“Don’t do that,” Street says, “we had no way of knowing something would happen. Any one of us could be blamed for this, but that won’t help us find her.”

Hondo nods but doesn’t say anything before Hicks rushes in.

“I didn’t see it until now,” he mumbles, opening the computer. “I don’t know how we missed it.”

20-David watches as he navigates to the missing persons' page, a collection of women gathered at the top. Hicks opens the most recent reports, and Chris exhales a sharp sigh.

“They are connected,” she says.

“Yeah,” Hicks answers. “Somehow, we missed the physical appearance connection. Our guys were so interested in the victimology that they probably never even looked at the pictures.”

“They look just like her,” Luca whispers. “It’s uncanny.”

“Do we have any ideas? Suspects? Leads?” Hondo asks. Hicks shakes his head, and Hondo slaps an open palm onto the table. “We can’t just sit here and do nothing!”

“I know that Hondo, but without an idea as to who, what, or why, we don’t have anything to go on. LA county is big, we can’t just start searching aimlessly.”

“First responders,” Deacon says, his eyes and his focus on the screen. “They all work as first responders. Firefighter, EMT, 911 operator. Every one of them. Where were they taken from?”

“Uh, within a mile of their homes,” Street reads. “Six of the six-seventeen, now, visited the Los Angeles county court to inquire about getting restraining orders.”

“Against?” Deacon asks.

Street clicks through the reports before looking up at Deacon. “Asher Nolan.”

“All six against the same guy,” Hondo begins, clicking his tongue, “that’s a lead.”

“I’ll get a warrant,” Hicks says, turning toward his office.

Deacon watches as your picture is added to their list. He knows the team only has 24 hours to find a real lead, or they risk never seeing you again.

“Don’t, Deacon,” Hondo says lowly, standing beside Deacon. “It’s not our fault, not your fault."

 “I offered to drive her home, tried to insist, but she promised she would be safe.”

“You didn’t know, Deac, you couldn’t have helped her.”

“I could have!” Deacon drops his voice, looking away from your picture to admit, “She tried to call me. When I found her phone, my contact was open. If she had pressed it, or if I had called sooner, she might have been okay.”

“She will be.”

“She better.”

Deacon walks out, unable to look at your smiling face any longer. Hicks comes back quickly with a warrant, and Deacon tries to detach himself from the case. He can’t, not when it’s you.

✯✯✯✯✯

The clock in the room reads 11:58 p.m. It’s only been four hours since you left S.W.A.T. HQ, though it seems a distant memory. The door opens, and you are still against the bed you’re chained to. 

“You know, I miss when you would talk to me,” Matt says, laying his hand across your throat. “What happened? I know you help people, so help yourself.”

He laughs at his dumb act, amused by the fact that he knows why you fell silent. Your skin burns against his touch, and the cough you want to release feels trapped in your throat. Faint bruises are barely visible in the bright light, but you know that the marks they’ve left are deeper than any bruises that may appear. Assuming you survive, of course.

“Since you’re giving me to cold shoulder,” Matt adds, dragging his hand across your collarbone to rest on your shoulder, “maybe I should return the favor.”

His other hand raises, covered in an oven mitt, as he reaches into a cooler and removes a large chunk of dry ice. You pull your lower lip between your teeth, determined not to scream. The ice meets the bare skin of your shoulder, though you’re unsure when he moved your sleeve. Alternating between burning and freezing, stabbing pain, you fight to remain conscious.

“Functional lessons,” the second man muses as he walks in. “I like it.”

An alarm goes off, and Matt and the man whose name you’ve yet to learn walk out. The ice is left against the skin of your upper arm, melting too slowly against you and the bed. 

“I almost forgot,” Matt’s voice echoes before something pricks your arm and everything goes dark as the pain finally fades.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Cameras,” Street points out. “They know we’re here.”

“Then let’s show ‘em why,” Hondo says. “Chris, Tan, Luca, go right. Deacon, Street, you’re with me.”

When Deacon feels Street touch his shoulder, he lays his hand on Hondo’s. He wants to get in and get you out as quickly as possible. Many things could happen, too many variables, but Deacon is prepared to risk his life to save yours.

“Gun,” Hondo calls, pushing back against Deacon as they enter a hallway.

“Took you long enough. When my buddy said LAPD was incompetent, I didn’t realise I’d be able to get so much done before you found me,” Matt calls.

“Let’s talk about this,” Hondo yells. “There’s a chance to walk away from this.”

“You mean like Abby?” a second voice joins.

“24-David,” Chris’s voice crackles through the radio, “We got eyes on one.”

“30-David, we have eyes on one east of the front door,” David replies.

“Abby didn’t walk away, though,” Matt says before laughing.

“Neither did Chelsea, or Bailey.”

“Or that pretty little officer. They saved everyone except themselves.”

Deacon closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to stay calm when they bring you up.

“See, that’s where you messed up,” Hondo announces. “You took one of us. Surrender and maybe the DA will work with you, find the other girls and get a reduced sentence.”

“Or, what? Go down in a blaze of fire? Better than ice.”

Hondo peeks around the corner, aiming his weapon. “Last chance, Asher. Put the gun down.”

“Asher? Oh, you mean my boss. He said not to do that.”

Matt raises his gun, and Hondo takes the chance to fire. He rushes out while Deacon covers him.

“Where is she?” Hondo demands as he presses a hand to Matt’s wound, kicking his gun away.

“Frozen by now.”

Matt’s eyes close, and Hondo gestures toward the other hallway as he radios that one of the suspects is down. Deacon nods, leading Street into the hallway.

“Clear,” Deacon says, exiting a bedroom.

“Closet only,” Street informs, opening a door on the other side.

Deacon opens the last door and lowers his gun to his side before he rushes into the room. Street turns in the doorway, covering him.

“24-David, the second suspect is down. It’s not Asher,” Chris radios.

Street turns into the room, joining Deacon by the bed.

“Is that-“

“Dry ice,” Deacon finishes as he knocks it onto the floor.

He removes his glove to find your pulse, elevated but steady. Your skin is colder than it should be, and you don’t respond to Deacon’s prodding or whispered pleads.

“C’mon, come back to us,” Deacon tries again.

“Ambulances are here,” Street says.

You jerk harshly, and Deacon rolls onto the bed, raising you into a fireman’s carry before navigating through the hallways. He feels you continue moving against him, but all he can do is get you help and pray. 

“We’ve got her,” the EMT says, helping to lower you onto the gurney. “Hit the sirens.”

“I’m coming with,” Deacon says, climbing into the ambulance.

Hicks appears at the door. “Go. She needs you, Deacon. Keep us updated.”

“Narcan?” one EMT suggests.

“No, at least not yet.” The ambulance lurches into motion as they strap an oxygen mask over your face. “Brain, I think, not drugs.”

They glance toward Deacon, who says, “I’m a trained medic, I get it. Just do your jobs, please.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon paces the waiting room for nearly an hour before sitting in a chair and letting his head hang toward his knees.

“Sergeant Kay?” a nurse asks.

Deacon’s head snaps up as he stands.

“The doctor is in her room now. Wants to talk to you.”

Deacon is silent as he walks down the hallways to reach your room. When he enters, seeing you hooked up to several machines and your arm wrapped tightly, his breath catches.

“I’m David Kay – Deacon,” he introduces, shaking the doctor’s hand.

“She owes you her life, Sergeant Kay. Much longer and the frostbite would have been incredibly severe.”

“And the tests?”

The doctor sighs, looking over at you before answering. “Yes, we ran several tests. MRI, CAT scan, and a few others. Her brain isn’t responding like it should.”

“Will she regain consciousness?” Deacon interrupts, his focus aimed at final answers.

“As far as I can tell, yes, sir, she will. When I say not responding like it should, I suppose I should reword. Her brain is responding, there’s no sign of a lack of oxygen or direct brain damage, but she may never recover fully, and will likely never be the same as the woman she was before. Her brain waves aren’t behaving like a woman of her age and health should be.”

“Thank you.” 

Deacon shakes his hand and moves to the corner of your room, typing a short text to Hicks: Get down here when you can. This will be easier in person.

He knows it sounds like you’re dying, but the idea of never having the real you back seems just as dire.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your eyes blink open slowly against the harsh fluorescent lights. A man is standing above you, and you jerk backwards, pulling against the chain on your hand and the unseen weight holding you down. Prepared to defend yourself, you move to the edge of the bed and let the adrenaline numb your pain while fueling your fight.

“Doc, take a step back for me, please,” Deacon says calmly.

When you hear Deacon’s voice, your guard drops slightly, and your shoulders lose some tension as you locate Deacon. You watch Deacon while the doctor stops beside him, whispering something on his way out.

“She’s not herself, just try to give her space and time. Like I said, this may be temporary, or it may be her new normal,” the doctor reminds Deacon, unheard by you.

The hand that you pulled away from the doctor moves jerkily toward Deacon, and he glances down at your hand and the IV you ripped out. He turns and waves to a female nurse. He stands by your bed, and you watch him, tensing as the nurse touches you to insert a new IV.

“Do you want to be alone?” Deacon asks when the nurse exits.

You don’t speak or nod, but your hand moves closer to Deacon. He smiles, taking it as a yes, before sitting in the chair beside your bed. Deacon knows the doctors’ concern but would do anything to hear your voice again.

When a doctor walks by, you lean harshly against the rail on your bed, and Deacon realises you are uncomfortable around men. Although, for some unexpected reason, you seem fine with him. Deacon stands and closes the blinds on your window, and when it feels like he is the only other person in the world, you fall asleep. Deacon is concerned that you’ll be nervous around him, too, when you wake. Later, when you do wake, your eyes find him, and your body stays relaxed, proof that your relationship with Deacon was not impacted by whatever those monsters did to you.

He looks down at his phone to read a message from Hondo: We got a warrant and a location for Asher. You in?

Deacon apologises as he tells you he has to go. “The team is going after him, and I want to be there. I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

You don’t respond, but Deacon taps the edge of your bed as he leaves, only inches from your fingers. While he’s gone, you don’t sleep. The night passes, and by mid-day, when you’ve gone a whole day, 24 hours, without sleep, the nurses give you a dose of melatonin to help you relax. You drift off, falling asleep against your will, and your mind goes to Deacon.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon is still gone when you wake, but there’s a computer sitting in the chair he previously occupied. You pull it onto the bed, catching the SD card that slides off the top. After you insert the chip and see only one video on it, you start it after looking out the door.

It’s the men who took you, Matt and the other one, standing over you, threatening you before growing bold enough to carry out some of their threats. When they start touching your throat and talking about your voice, you slam the computer closed and rip the memory card out.

Standing from the bed, you pull the IV cart with you to the cabinet. Your tattered clothes are still in the patient's belongings bag, but someone also brought your backpack from S.W.A.T. HQ. You look out the door again before changing and stay close to the heart rate monitor and IV cart. Once dressed and ready, you duck beside the door, waiting for a large enough group to walk by. When one appears, you rip your IV and pulse-ox off, falling into step behind them. You walk out unnoticed and set out without a real destination in mind. Sticking to the shadows, you find yourself in a familiar neighbourhood.

✯✯✯✯✯

When your heart rate plummets, the machine beeps, and several nurses abandon their stations to run into your room. They check the bathroom and the far side of the bed before finding your commander’s phone number.

“Hicks,” he answers.

“Commander Hicks, she’s gone.”

Hicks hangs up on the nurse but walks into the room less than ten minutes later. He looks through everything, noticing that your bag is gone and your IV was ripped out intentionally. Hoping to find something before your team comes back, Hicks opens the computer on your bed. While Hicks is searching, Deacon walks in with a small bag of your favourite snacks and a book to pass the time. 

“Calm down, Deac, we’re gonna get answers,” Hicks begins.

“Where is she?” Deacon demands.

“I don’t know. The nurses called as soon as her heart rate stopped tracking, so she can’t be more than thirty minutes ahead of us.”

“I’m going to find her.”

“Deacon, stay with me. We’ll call in the team and-“

“I can’t; I think I need to be alone for now.”

Deacon leaves, setting the bag in his passenger seat and wishing it were you instead. He’s lost you twice in the last few days, and once he finds you, he will do everything in his power to keep you close forever.

Walking into his house, Deacon slows when he sees a pair of shoes under the rose bush in his front yard. He pulls his gun and demands the person come out slowly.

You slide toward him with your hands up and your eyes on him rather than his gun. When he sees your face, he holsters his gun quickly and squats to your level.

“Can I touch you?” he asks quietly.

You give your first answer since waking in the hospital: you nod. 

Deacon helps you stand, keeping an arm around you as he leads you inside.

“Help yourself to anything, okay?” he offers as he closes the door. “You can shower, take clothes, whatever you need to be comfortable.”

You pull away from Deacon and disappear down his hallway. He hears the water turn on in his shower and pulls his phone out, his finger hovering over Hicks’ number before deciding to find out why you left the way you did. 

When you reemerge, with wet hair and dressed in Deacon’s clothes, you join him in the kitchen and stand closer to him than he expected. He sets two cups before you: a mug of your favourite tea and a glass of ice water.

“Are you hungry?” Deacon asks. You shake your head, and Deacon adds, “Hey, you’re in charge right now. Whatever you want, whatever you say, goes.”

You pick up one of the glasses and look toward the couch. Deacon chuckles as he picks up the other, placing a hand on your back and leading you to the couch. Once you sit, you keep your free hand in your lap as you drink. Deacon wants to take your hand, hold it, and tell you how sorry he is, but you aren’t ready, as far as he can tell.

Suddenly, though, you turn toward him, and he recognizes the look in your eyes, shaking his head and chuckling before he begins talking. His voice has always been soothing to you, his presence like a safe house. You fall asleep to the sound of his voice, and your head falls onto his shoulder.

Deacon remains perfectly still throughout the evening as the sun sets, unwilling to disturb you, even at the cost of his comfort. His phone begins ringing in the kitchen, and he moves out from under you to answer. You wake when you feel his absence, looking around until you find him.

“Hey, Commander,” Deacon greets. “Yeah, I know… I’m worried, yeah.”

You stand and walk away silently. Deacon watches you, staring down the empty hallway as he says goodbye to Hicks. 

Entering his bedroom, you find your backpack and pull the memory card out. You reappear with the small envelope containing it, and Deacon waits until you nod, wringing your fingers together, to take it. He finds his computer and inserts the card; his headphones are plugged in, and he decides to use them, unsure of what’s on the card.

Waiting, you stand beside the couch, holding your hands together. You can’t hear the video, but Deacon's facial expressions tell you which part he’s watching.

“Where’d all that fight go, huh?” Matt asks, pushing against your throat until you nearly lose consciousness.

You can’t fight back, and they’re enjoying it too much.

“You said one word and then nothing. What am I supposed to think? Maybe you don’t want to talk. Maybe you shouldn’t. That’s why we told the others. And we made sure they believed it before… well, you know.”

“They didn’t even scream,” the other man adds. “Silence is beautiful on women.”

“What if,” Matt begins, drawing a large blade from a case beside the bed. “We made sure you couldn’t talk again? Cops have to be able to use the radio, so at the least, we’ll know you can’t call for help.”

The blade lays against your throat, and your eyes close, silent but physically preparing to fight.

Deacon’s eyes slide to yours before returning to the screen briefly to close the computer. He moves to sit on the arm of the couch before you and looks up at you with big brown eyes. You want to talk to him so badly, but you can’t. Deacon raises his hands, and you don’t hesitate to lay yours in his. He rubs circles on the backs of your hands, your callouses and warmth melting together.

“Everything they said was wrong,” Deacon begins.

Deacon notices that you lean in toward him with each word he says. He stands slowly, concerned that his size or the proximity will overwhelm you, but you keep your hands in his and follow his eyes as he stands. With the new angle, Deacon can see the bruises forming around your neck, from your collarbone up to your jawline. Deacon’s hands raise to rest on your shoulders, bringing your hands along in his. His thumbs rest gently above your collarbone.

“What they said, what they did, was terrible.” And Deacon plans to undo every word and touch, even if it takes forever.

You lean into Deacon’s touch, trusting him with most of your weight as his phone rings again. He moves an arm around your shoulders, leaning back against the couch as he answers.

“Hicks. I only have a minute. She’s here, at my house. She’s safe… Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on her… See you then.”

“Thank you,” you whisper against Deacon’s chest, your voice rough after not using it.

His eyes widen as he wraps his other arm around you. “It’s no problem,” he promises.

You point to the bedroom, and Deacon nods before releasing you. He watches you walk away, and the echo of your voice wraps around him like a warm blanket.

✯✯✯✯✯

When Deacon rises for work the following morning, he has a message from Hicks inviting him to stay home with you if he needs or wants to. Walking into the kitchen, you’re standing in your own clothes with your backpack at your feet.

“Can I go with you?” you ask, voice barely audible.

Deacon doesn’t have the heart to tell you no, so he takes you back to work. As he walks to the car, he texts the team a quick heads-up that they may need to be quieter around you because you’ve been through a lot, and slow behaviour seems to be the key to making you comfortable. He hopes your new unease around men doesn’t extend to the other men who saved your life.

The team tries to follow Deacon’s advice, but when you hear an obnoxious yell from a beat cop, you tuck behind Deacon and grab his fingers. 20-David knew you had feelings for Deacon but seeing him be your safe space like this is a whole new element for them to witness.

✯✯✯✯✯

You, Deacon, and Hondo are watching Hicks interview Asher Nolan. They can’t tie him to any of the abductions, but he seems to know too much about some of the other women who were taken. Hicks is getting nowhere and is ready to walk out.

“I’ll go in,” you tell Hondo. “But only if you come with me,” you add quietly, looking at Deacon.

“She only goes in if I go too,” Deacon adds protectively, looking at Hondo.

As you walk in, Asher’s eyes find you.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he croons.

“Don’t look at her,” Deacon snaps.

Asher’s eyes move to Deacon long enough to ask, “Do you ever smile?”

 “No.”

“Well, you should be with someone who smiles, sweetheart. Come closer and I’ll show you how nice my smile is,” he tells you.

“Tell us where the other women are,” Deacon demands.

“Oh, that kind of information needs to be earned, don’t you think? I have an idea, though, we play poker. You win, and I tell you what you want to know.”

“And if you win?”

“I get to smell her hair,” Asher answers, staring at you.

“No deal.”

You know you need the evidence. Finding the other women is the key to getting a conviction.

“Okay,” you say.

Looking over at Deacon, you hope your look conveys your thoughts: ‘Please win.’

You look at Deacon’s hand, hiding your smile when he tucks a card behind another to disguise his winning hand. The moment Asher shows his cards, asking you to come to his side, you let your lips raise slightly.

“Oh, looks like I missed a card,” Deacon deadpans, revealing his royal straight flush, all spades.

Asher slaps the table, his handcuffs creating a sharp echo. Deacon stands, and you follow, standing behind him.

“Mulholland Drive, by the dam,” Asher admits. As Deacon approaches the door, he says, “I’ll find a better place for you; the best for the last.”

Deacon tries to lunge for Asher, but you step between them and push Deacon out of the interview room. 

“Thank you. For winning and keeping him away from me,” you whisper, your hands still pressed against Deacon’s chest.

“I’ll always protect you.”

Hicks steps out, asking to speak to Deacon, and you nod before walking the other way. Deacon meant it, and you know he will do anything to protect you.

✯✯✯✯✯

You enter the locker room, surprised to find it empty. Sitting on the bench before your locker, you drop your head into your hands. The quiet is nice but also allows your thoughts and memories to run rampant. One thought of Deacon silences the dangerous and painful thoughts, and you will your mind to remember what it was like to be held by him.

Deacon finds you waiting alone in the locker room and moves silently to join you. He sits beside you, and you turn toward him, taking his hand and tracing his fingers.

Your touch is magnetic, and Deacon never wants to let you go. 

“I- I know you watched the video, but I want to talk about it. If that’s okay,” you begin, looking at Deacon’s hand.

“Of course.”

“They told me to stop talking, not to scream, and I listened. I’m sure they were lying, but they made me believe that last girl, Melissa, was still alive, so I thought – hoped – that if I listened, they’d let her live. Focus all of their time and energy on me, you know. Then they started touching my neck and pressuring me to talk. When I didn’t they started hurting me, choking me and laying knives across my neck before leaving.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know Hicks was at the hospital and found the computer, and I don’t know if they recorded it, but they threatened to pull my vocal cords out and put the knife in my mouth. Talking just- it felt like I was betraying her, I guess, even after I knew they were in custody.”

Deacon moves to his knees in front of you, keeping your hand in his as his other hand raises to cup your jaw. He ducks his head and kisses your neck, wiping away the memories of their touch with each gentle movement. When he reaches your jaw, you lower your chin and meet his lips, kissing him.

He knows this is real, not just something to distract you. He doesn’t, however, know that you know that, too. You have loved Deacon for a long time, and…

“Thinking of you kept me alive. You kept me alive, Deacon. I’ve been in love with you for years and being away from you made me realize just how much. I never want to be away from you again,” you confess, holding his hand and heart.

Deacon knows you will be uncomfortable around men for a while, but never around him. He vows to continue his mission of undoing their words and actions, but he will love every version of you along the way.

“They found Melissa, she’s still alive,” Hicks announces in the doorway.

As the door closes, Deacon kisses you again. You saved Melissa, he saved you, and now he knows it.

[wishcamper]

Nessian Week Day 5 - Behind Closed Doors

I meant to write a sexy, Casino Royale-esque poker scene but it somehow ended up as Cassian fangirling over his wife for 3k words so uh. Here you go.

Read here or on ao3!

High Stakes

A/N: This prompt really made me want to play with the idea of layers of intimacy in long-term relationships because a) I don’t think we have enough representations of healthy, fulfilling, functional monogamy and b) I‘ve always thought there was beautiful potential for Nessian to know and understand each other to the point where they can see all the layers of the other person, and be able to hold space for the other’s complexity. I’d just really like to believe that’s possible. So I hope that comes across. 

I’m exploring some of these same ideas in ACOVAV, my ongoing ACOSF fix-it. Questions around the character’s experiences and my own, like: what does it look like to build tension in a story and depth in a relationship without miscommunication or people treating each other badly? What if it’s two people trying their best to get close while also wrestling with their own individual shit in very real, understandable ways? What exists at that intersection between me and us? Something interesting, I think.

If that interests you too, you can read that fic on ao3 :)

---

“Mr. Archeron.”

“Marlowe. How’s she looking tonight?”

Two males stood before the door of a long-vacant tavern, sweating slightly in the night air thick and lush as it only was in summer, Velaris bursting with vitality after dark. The cobblestone streets were full of revelers who passed by without a second glance, ignorant that beyond the hidden entrance lay a world where fortunes were won and lost, where the honor of courts rose and fell at the discretion of a female known only in whispers as the Queen of Cards.

A female who just happened to be Cassian’s wife.

“A strong start,” Marlowe said as he ushered Cassian into the candlelit basement, flickering shadows belying the bustling street above. “The High Lord from Autumn has cheek, though.” 

“Yeah, Eris gets like that when he’s losing.”

They shook hands and Cassian made his way down the dim hallway, the sounds of chatter and shuffling and clinking coins drifting toward him. He could hear Eris braying high above the others, Rhys’ smooth voice giving back just as good. When he reached the arched entrance to the playing room, everyone had their backs to him except Nesta, who glanced up from her three-card hand and smiled. 

She always faced the door during games, ready to protect her players’ privacy in case someone got past Marlowe, though it had the unintended effect of giving him a moment to take her in uninterrupted. Her gown was midnight blue tonight, long sleeves in tiers of iridescent silk like a dragonfly’s wings, hair cascading over one shoulder studded with opals that turned fiery in the faelights.

A glittering queen holding court. And damn if Cassian didn’t want to go to his knees before her, still, after all this time.

“Can we get on with it or do I need to send you two to time out?” she asked the still-squabbling High Lords without missing a beat, tossing her cards in and signaling to the silver clad dealer to begin the next round before. She threw in her ante next, silver bracelets chiming at her wrist with the movement.

With some grumblings the players turned to their hands, and Cassian edged along the wall to where Emerie sat at a high table on her own, grazing on the arrayed refreshments and accounting her winnings in a worn ledger. 

“I was up and didn’t want to push my luck,” the female whispered when he nodded in greeting, giving him a sly smile. Cassian smiled back - Emerie always came out on top. He suspected Nesta was subtly losing to her friend on purpose after the female refused to let her fund an expansion of her shop. And he suspected Emerie knew it, too, but both were too proud to say it aloud. She licked the tip of her pencil and made another note. “Plus, it’s fun to watch your mate knock a few High Lords down a peg.”

“Sometimes I wonder if that’s the real game,” he confessed, and Emerie grinned smugly, wings ruffling with delight.

They observed the game in silence for a moment, allowing Cassian time to survey the other players in attendance tonight. There was an endless rotating cast of characters at Nesta’s now-famous monthly games, the invitation so coveted they’d had all manner of bribes delivered to the House of Wind by very confused messengers. Thankfully all gifts were now rerouted to a third-party location, after a lesser lord of Summer sent a dozen peacocks they’d chased about the House for hours.

There were seven of them tonight as usual, including Emerie, all faces he recognized buried in their cards around the half-moon table. Granted, it helped that nearly half the players were his wife, her best friend, and Rhys, whose pile of coin looked so pitifully low Cassian couldn’t help but smirk when he caught his brother’s eye.

“We should raise the blind,” Rhys interjected. “What's the point of playing if you’re eschewing risk?”

It still surprised Cassian sometimes that Rhys kept coming back despite showing no taste for gambling in the past. But he supposed Rhys had always been weirdly competitive with Nesta, and even though they’d buried the hatchet long ago Nesta still loved winning her brother-in-law’s money fair and square. Which she did without fail, hand over fist, with a silent pact between them not to tell Feyre.

Neither of her sisters knew, by design he suspected, and Mor was off in Montesere ‘finding herself’ again, whatever that meant. Azriel had a brief, brilliant run before his competitiveness got the best of him and he was banned for brawling at the table, one of the only standing rules. Emerie and Eris were regulars, and he’d seen the others in attendance before: broad-shouldered Megrin Stonecutter of the Velaris maester’s guild and Nuan of Dawn, who perched cross-legged in her chair, a pair of elaborate spectacles whirring on her round face

Opposite Nesta tonight sat the High Lord of Day, still radiant despite having foregone his usual golden adornments. Helion looked nonplussed by his own losing streak as Cassian watched him toss his cards face down in front of him, leaving only Rhys, Eris, and Nesta still alive in the hand.

“I fold. You all are vicious. Are you not joining us, Cass?”

“And add one more body to the slaughter? No thanks.” He’d never had much interest, content to watch Nesta splatter egos against the wall.

Megrin grunted in agreement and slid her cards to the dealer past the large pile of gold in the center. “I’m out, too. Clearly someone knows something I don’t.”

“It’s yours to call, Eris,” Rhys said breezily. “Unless you’re waiting to ask your father’s ghost for permission.”

Cassian snorted, making eye contact with Rhys again, who shot him a shit-eating grin as Eris covered his mouth with a stiff hand, brow furrowed. 

To everyone’s surprise, Beron Vanserra had been felled two years prior by an ordinary fever. No one in Autumn nor elsewhere could make sense of it - it was as if one day the hands of hel simply reached up and snatched him back into the earth. So a court that had once been destined for a bloody coup passed the crown peacefully, which was a good thing all around, though Rhys loved painting Eris as a cowardly dawdler whose target put himself in an early grave just to end the waiting.

The Autumn lord sneered at the insult, still waffling. “Some of us prefer to think about our actions, Rhysand, instead of barrelling forward with whatever scheme will inflate our self-importance the most. Stealing things from other courts, for example, books, brides -“

Nesta glanced over at Cassian then, crossing and uncrossing her fingers where they lay against her cheek, and he had to stifle the laugh that bubbled forth at the private joke, just for him. It was her signal that sexual tension was present in the room, sometimes to indicate she wanted to leave whatever function they were at, sometimes so they could share a roll of their eyes. In this case he knew she meant the squabbling lords, as many a late night they’d mused that Eris and Rhys could get past their rivalry if they just had sex about it. 

“As much as I enjoy seeing Rhysand’s self-importance punctured,” Nesta drawled when the latter opened his mouth to retort. “You can’t delay your bet with old, petty scores. We’re all rather bored with it. If you’re going to cheat, at least use some imagination.” 

She sipped at her glass of pomegranate juice, a frequent gift of affection from Helion and a nod to the other rule: no alcohol. 

Rhys’ expression flashed briefly with betrayal, but he schooled it quickly, knowing better than to give himself away. But Cassian knew Nesta’s smoky eyes clocked it before they turned to Eris. 

“I remember you once tempting me with an invitation to Autumn, to see how a High Lord plays. Is this what you had in mind?” She gestured to the modest pile of gold in front of him. “I rather think I made the right decision, don’t you?”

Emerie chuckled beside him, and Cassian felt a thrill low in his stomach to see Nesta so self-possessed, lit from within. After everything they’d been through with the Trove, with their families, a part of him wondered if he’d ever see her ferocity again, if the sharp point of that viper’s tongue would smooth over for good. 

She’d become very soft for about a decade after the Blood Rite, and they’d taken long walks through the Illyrian Steppes and the Myrmidons, swam in streams and lakes and the oceans of Summer, watched the bees drift lazily from flower to flower in Elain’s gardens in Day. It was as if she’d needed to come completely to rest before deciding what to do next. And the solitude seemed to give her a sense of clarity, but he’d been glad as fuck to be an exception to that rule, to witness the private puzzlings and support her in finding purpose in her life.

They’d only just returned to Velaris the previous spring, when the threads of family and duty pulled them home at last. Their time away was intimate and lovely, some of the best years of his life, yet Cassian enjoyed seeing Nesta confident out in the world again. The poker game had been the first of many things to draw her out, and he couldn’t wait to see what she’d surprise him with next, his strong, clever, deadly little wife.

Eris grumbled and tossed a few coins in the middle. “Happy now? Or would you prefer to seduce it out of me?”

Cassian watched her swallow the barb, which would’ve sent her into survival mode in the past and now rolled off her with barely a ripple. Leashed his own instincts to leap across the room and tackle Eris to the ground, because Nesta wouldn’t hesitate to kick him out for breaking the rules too, mate or no, and he’d miss his favorite show.

“Your luck doesn’t extend that far tonight,” she said demurely, and Cassian knew the smug prick was too stupid to see her coiling up to strike when the time was right. Nesta won the hand a moment later to groans all around, her Winter flush beating Rhys’ three pixies and Eris’ two pair, nymphs and kelpies.

“I propose a wager," Nesta declared as the next hand was dealt, her voice velvety and inviting. "The victor of the evening wins one favor of their choosing...” Eyes lit up around the table, anticipation deepening. “...from my husband.”

They all turned toward Cassian where he was leaning against the wall with an amused grin now, and he raised an eyebrow at his mate. Her eyes flashed silver where she stared back at him, and he felt her send a soothing wave down the bond, assuring him of her intent. Inviting him into the ruse. Cassian made a show of looking chagrined, shuffling his feet as he looked down.

Rhys was the first to respond, smirking. “I’ll take that bet.” 

Cassian knew he was incensed at the idea of losing, wrongly fancying himself more clever than his sister-in-law. Nesta knew it, too, and that arrogance made him play more recklessly.

“Count me out,” said Helion, winking. “You’re pretty, Cass, but my minister of finance will have my head if I lose any more.”

“Ah, why not?” Nuan flushed, uncomfortable with the attention now drawn her way, and chuckled nervously. “Not sure what use I’d have for you, dear, but who knows what worth it may hold!”

Megrin pursed her lips, sizing him up. “He has a strong enough back I suppose. I’ve been meaning to rearrange my forge.”

“Any favor of my choosing?” Eris mused, and Cassian felt the Autumn lord’s gaze roving over his body and then Nesta’s, possessive and hungry. The years hadn’t changed everything. Nesta answered with nothing but a feline smile.

The next few rounds passed in a blur of bluffs and bold plays. Nesta remained composed even on the hands she lost, an almost bored air to the way she watched the males bluster and crow. Eris' anger grew while Rhys shot daggers with his glare at her every win, turning each hand into an unnecessary battle of wills that made him play sloppy. Nuan ducked out when it became clear the prize wasn’t hers, and Megrin hung on for a while longer, bluffing her way through until her luck ran dry, to Cassian’s relief. 

One by one, Nesta outplayed them, her composure never faltering as she watched her opponents fume, each loss reigniting their fervor to win.

At last the players were down to the final hand, and the air in the hidden basement crackled with anticipation. The dealer laid down the community cards as bets went around: a wyvern, a lord, a lady, and a cave troll. Each still in signaled for new cards, Nesta tapping once against the table, her face revealing nothing. Cassian could feel his chest tighten as they sized each other up before Rhys pushed all his chips into the pot with a confident smirk.

"All in."

Unfazed, Nesta called his bet, gesturing idly at her pile for the dealer to sweep into the center with his crook. That left only Eris to decide his own fate, as well as Cassian’s.

He puzzled for a long while with his head in his hands before he finally spoke, low and deliberate. "I’ll call."

Coins cascaded into the center, a shower of gold. Then the final card was revealed—another lady. All coins in the center, it felt like everyone held their breath as the three remaining players revealed their hands. 

Rhys set down two lords, the grin spreading across his face triumphant and sure, the poor bastard. Eris only clucked his tongue and revealed his full house, ladies full of wyverns, smug despite achieving it on the last draw.

But Cassian knew it wasn’t over yet. He turned to where his wife was toying with the edge of her hand, and he’d seen that pose too many times not to recognize it at once: You Have Just Royally Fucked Yourself. Silver rolled over Nesta’s eyes, and with prim efficiency she laid down the three remaining trolls in the deck, one after another.

The room erupted, Eris upending his chair as he leapt to his feet, Rhys shouting about cheating and Helion tipping his head back to let loose a peal of laughter soon joined by Emerie and Nuan’s, by Megrin’s groan. Cassian couldn’t help the dopey grin that spread across his face, how at home Nesta looked in the sea of chaos when she winked at him, calmly piling her coins into neat stacks.

Once everyone had regained their heads they all passed a lovely hour in conversation, the air hazy from the cigarettes Nesta usually smoked with Lucien at their gossip sessions disguised as afternoon tea. Rhys departed first, claiming a return to his fatherly duties, though they all knew he was off to beg Feyre’s sympathies while he licked his wounds for reasons he’d never confess. Emerie left with a tight hug and a promise to have them up to Windhaven soon to see her new expansion, and Eris gave Nesta a begrudging bow before Helion swooped in and kissed her on the cheek. He did the same to Cassian, and they heard his warm voice echoing down the corridor, giving Eris shit all the way up the stairs.

Alone now, Cassian came up behind where Nesta was tucking a handful of coins in a pouch for Marlowe, looped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. She batted at him but he felt her lean backwards all the same, cracking the door to that soft place within, that only her loved ones were allowed to enter. He knew she liked the affection, even if part of her still hated to admit it, if she only wanted it when it was just them.

“Wicked woman,” he teased, and he felt her smile against his cheek, the press of her nails into his forearm. “Were you seriously going to let Eris have his way with me?”

Nesta turned in his arms and he took her in close up for the first time all day, having left her snoring softly that morning when he departed for Windhaven. He warmed to see her face still relaxed and open, the ease in her posture. 

“If he won, sure.”

Cassian snorted. “I don’t know if that’s a testament to your confidence or your willingness to torture me.”

The candlelight flickered silver around them for a moment and he drew her close once more, breathing deep the vanilla and jasmine scent of her hair, the lingering smokiness. Nesta linked her hands behind his back and squeezed him hard, impatient.

“Can’t it be both? Now take me home, Lady Death is tired.”

“Is that your favor for winning, sweetheart?”

“No,” she said, eyes dancing and devious when he pulled back. “I’ve much bigger plans for you.”

And oh, she did.

They ended the night in Cassian’s favorite way, with him sprawled atop her, head pillowed on her chest, her long fingers working through the snarls in his hair he’d earned in their pleasure. The House dimmed the lights in the bedchamber that was once his, the door now warded to both their hands. Hands that bore twin golden rings and tattoos of an eight-pointed star, tokens of their promises, both his and hers.

“Goodnight, I love you.”

Nesta’s voice was thick and fuzzy, and he felt a quiet contentment on her end of the bond. It was rare for her to inhabit it in public as much as she had tonight, and Cassian remembered when her end of the bridge between them had been locked tight, impenetrable. He’d made a fool of himself trying to break through early in their love, using brute force to smash past her defenses, leaving her exposed. 

But now he knew the secret that should’ve been obvious, that he only had to knock.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

She smiled with her eyes closed and pursed her lips, kissing the air before sleep dragged her under.

[bellafragolina]

I’ve been ~inspired~ with an idea…pretty please can I get a ball/gala scene where Grimsley asks reader to dance? I just want to read some flirty fluff with this man.

Yeyeye

🍓🍓🍓

It was like something out of a storybook. You remember seeing the animated movies, filled with scenery so decadent and grandiose, draped in finery so detailed your eyes could hardly comprehend it. This gala, this beautiful ballroom of swishing gowns and beautiful music, looked right from one of those movies.

It made you feel a little out of place, like you were on the sidelines of a grand romance plot. Still, just like everyone else here, you had received your invitation to attend, to witness the entertainment and goals of the charity representative that hosted the party.

But still, full of fancy food and bubbling champagne, you keep to your sideline. You weren’t really one to seek out the spotlight, especially at an event where you had very little relationship to the host, besides being a donator to his charity.

The dancers were an intoxicating show, anyhow, and you had plenty of fun watching them float across the floor in calculated, precise movements. The music almost seemed to be following them, instead of the other way around. It was beautiful, and made your heart ache in a way you didn’t quite understand.

The ache dissipated when a hand reached into your view.

You snapped your head around, balking to see the one and only Elite Four member Grimsley smiling at you. He was draped in fine fabric that seemed to flow off of his body like water, sparkling in the golden lights, ethereal.

His eyes sparkled with mischief when you finally met them. “This ain’t the place to be standing off to the side looking lonely, little blind.” He winked, nodding towards the hand still outstretched to you. “Let’s dance.”

Your brain couldn’t really comprehend the request, so your body answered for you.

Your hand slid into his. His grip was steady, assured, as he carefully tugged you out onto the floor of dancers. That out of place feeling crawled up your back again, and by the time Grimsley had you both in a starting position, you were shaking somewhat.

Grimsley smiled at you, easy and relaxed. “You’re okay, little blind. No one’s here to judge.”

Your lips pursed. “I don’t know how to dance.”

He shrugged. “Neither do I.”

Like the bluffer he was, Grimsley stepped back, guiding you amongst the other dancers. You did your best to follow, mirroring his steps, sometimes tripping, sometimes stepping on his feet, but he smiled through it. And any laughter of his was paired with teasing remarks and jokes to ease the tension.

"Not bad." Grimsley said with a wink. "But, could be better. I'd be happy to teach you, if you were interested in a private tutor."

"I don't think I can afford you." You replied, relaxing some when he just laughed.

"Why, it'd be on the house, little blind." Grimsley lifted his arm, twirling you easily until you lost balance, falling back into his arms in a deep dip. "Though, I do accept payments in poker games and kisses."

Now it was your turn to laugh. "I think I can manage one of those."

"I was hoping so."

🍓🍓🍓

"little blind" is one of the few poker terms i know, so it shall be the pet name. there is not refuting it.

lolol hope you enjoyed, love!

~Renee

[mchlgayser]

( ✮ ) 'ARE YOU JEALOUS?' ft sae itoshi

author's note 🍄: HELLO! I'm back... To write more of bllk's imagine hehe, Idk why I chose Sae tbh 🥲🤦 I don't even like that guy as much but this kind of topic suits him best, I think that's why lol. Lastly, I think this imagine is pretty much an au, not following the manga plot so it spoiler-free!!

content warning 🗯️: mention a tint of possessiveness

🧺: @iwritesjud3's navigation

'Please help me hand this to our homeroom teacher, I need to get to class early!' She nods her head at you and then rushed to the teacher's lounge whilst you walk to class.

You slid the door open alerting some of your classmates inside thinking that it was the teacher. You smile at them before waving around to tell them to sit on their assigned seats 'Next week is the festival! You guys make sure you volunteer for the festival committee.' A chorus of 'Yes' echoes through the classroom. You grin and nods before you make your way to your seat.

You reluctantly turn your head to the side to see Sae looking at you with one hand propping under his chin. You smile at him to which he did not return back but instead turn his head against.

You look back in front, empty-headed as you wait for the teacher. Minutes passed and the door slid open again but it wasn't the teacher but instead your girl-friend and the school head prefect.

'Our teacher is assigned to attend an important meeting, she asked for Asahi's help.' Your friend said returning to her seat which is in front of you.

The head prefect wrote something on the board and said 'Your homeroom teacher had asked you all to copy this!' The whole class bring out their books almost in sync and began rewriting what was on the board.

'L/n?' Asahi called 'Your teacher asked you to write today's attendance for her.' You smile and hum at him before continuing to write down.

The class ended, and you put your stuff back inside your bag and bring out your lunchbox 'Y/n? I need to talk to you for a moment.' You glance up at Asahi before momentarily nodding and getting your tumbler along with your lunch before following him outside.

Sae on the other hand witnessed the scene, and he followed you both outside. The two of you are talking at the end of the hall, before eventually separating ways. He saw your friend nearing you and you both disappear downstairs.

He has no idea what you two talks about but it's enough to make him feel sort of way that you both talks solitary.

After recess ceased, you and your friend separated because she had something to do, and you walks to class alone when suddenly a hand grasp your wrist making you wheeze. The person steadily hold a palm to your mouth to prevent you from shouting and you panicked.

The panic subsided once you realized that it was just, Sae.

'You scared me!' You complained, one hand over your chest feeling it throbbing inside you, his face is poker and steady making you feel even more creeped out 'What's wrong with you? Why do you suddenly pulled me like...'

'What did he talk to you about?' For a moment, you were perplexed, who was he talking about '...Oh, you mean Asahi?' An idea ran the course to your mind making you mentally chortle 'Nothing, he said nothing. You don't have to worry.' You untangled his hand from your wrist and were about to leave but he pin you down again 'What do you mean nothing? What. Did. He say.' He punctuated each words making you even more worked up

You push his hand away, far harsher than earlier and sigh 'I told you it's nothing. Why do you want to know anyway?' You cock a brow at him as he mirrored your expression, hard.

'It's because you are my girlfriend.'

You scoff 'That was lukewarm of you to say such a thing like that. It was your argument anyway about not wanting everyone to know about us.' He scowl at you making you laugh slightly 'He... Confessed?'

You hum, being unbothered 'So what if he did? Are you jealous?' He scoff making you irk a bit but his lack of response shows you otherwise 'You said nothing on your defense, so I guess that you are jealous? He huffs, hands folding

The place was a bit dimmed but you still manage to catch a glimpse of his pouty face, it wasn't very visible but it was there 'You are sulky.' You laugh, and he growls pushing you back against the wall 'You should stop teasing me, Y/n.'

'I will Itoshi, I'm sorry, and I'm sorry for lying because Asahi never confessed.' He looks at you, expression almost bewildered before he switches it back to his expressionless sentiment. You snorts 'You are hilarious getting so work up like this when me and him are just, taking...'

He look at you 'Lukewarm'

And then he left as you follow him close behind 'Come on, are you mad? Over small thing?' He stop grabbing you by your wrist and pull you close next to him 'If you're desperately wanted to tell them who you belongs to.' He walks back inside the hall with you hand in hand.

His head held up high making you ever giddier than before, if you know this kind of ideas would triggered him to publish your relationship, you would've done it sooner.

[ncisfranchise-source]

Be honest. When NCIS premiered in 2003, did you really expect it to be going strong and with a full franchise built around it 22 years later?

JAG was a success, but NCIS outperformed even the wildest of expectations of a spinoff to become a cultural juggernaut that shows no signs of slowing down.

Can you imagine a TV lineup without at least one version of NCIS? When you’re looking at decades of long-running entertainment and on-demand watch possibilities, it’s impossible. 

Gibbs: The Guy Who Said More with a Look than Most People Say in a Speech

Even years after he stepped back from leading the team, Leroy Jethro Gibbs remains the backbone of NCIS. There’s a reason the character is getting the prequel treatment — he’s iconic.

The man barely speaks, but when he does, you know he means business. Mark Harmon‘s use of the less-is-more approach worked like magic. Without his performance, Gibbs, as we know him, wouldn’t exist.

Gibbs may have a permanent poker face, but you never questioned the emotions brewing just under the surface. A quick nod or a stern look would have everyone falling in line.

You might have wondered if NCIS could survive Harmon stepping back, but the show hasn’t lost its edge with his absence.

The story continued steadfastly on. Harmon has remained a fixture behind the scenes, and even if he’s not the face we see when we turn on NCIS, we can still feel Gibbs’s presence in every episode.

The Unlikely Family Dynamics

You don’t have to be ashamed to admit that falling in line with the NCIS team is your guilty pleasure.

Solving mysteries is done all over the place on TV.

Creating dynamic relationships on-screen can be like lightning in a bottle. You can have the most talented actors and the best writers, and the relationships can fall flat.

NCIS banter is magical, and the agents are one of a kind.

They feel like family, albeit a highly dysfunctional one. They work hard and play hard, ribbing each other like kids while chasing down murderers. Sounds just like home, right?

Every time a character left, viewers braced for disappointment, thinking, “There’s no way this can work now.” But every time, NCIS proved us wrong. 

Newer faces like Torres and Knight managed to slip into the team without feeling like knock-offs. Even Gary Cole’s Alden Parker didn’t try taking Gibbs’s place. 

NCIS has the unique ability to let go of the past while still feeling familiar. Maybe it’s because the past is never forgotten, just like with family.

Balancing Intensity and Humor – A Lesson in How to Laugh Right After a Murder

Murder is a rough business. Nobody wants to be murdered, but even solving them takes a little getting used to. Laughter helps.

NCIS has a knack for making us giggle right after exploring a grisly murder scene. Cracking jokes, nerdy habits, or obscure historical facts in the middle of an autopsy sound offputting, but those survival tactics work on screen and off.

NCIS manages a nearly perfect balance between dark crime drama and light-hearted scenes that keep viewers from dwelling on a story’s gloomier details.

Without that perfected blend, the rotating cast, and holding tightly to the past while never losing sight of the future, NCIS might have gotten stale or, even worse, too heavy to bear repeat viewing. 

But NCIS never forgets to have fun. One minute, they’re uncovering a terrorist plot, and the next, Torres is getting roasted for his ridiculous undercover disguises. 

That humor makes the show feel like a comfortable old friend. No matter how serious things get, there’s always a laugh waiting in the wings.

Ridiculousness (Not the Show. The Cases!)

Okay, so some of the crimes are… let’s say, out there. 

I mean, how many terrorists are out there targeting Navy personnel? Wouldn’t we know if this was a thing, let alone one that spans 22 years and an entire franchise?

But NCIS has a way of making even absurd stories feel personal. The stakes are always high, and as ridiculous as it sometimes seems, we’re all in for every case.

Like many other successful mystery shows, the why and how of crime solving is just as important as the who, and using that standard allows NCIS to weave in bigger, season-spanning arcs like ongoing terrorist threats or complicated political conspiracies.

Sure, some of these cases might stretch credibility, but the team keeps us invested. Feeling like family allows us to forget we’re watching a procedural and get caught up in the larger story.

Comfortable might not be the go-to word for a crime show, but for many, NCIS is just that. 

It is so satisfying to settle in with characters you know well as they successfully pluck bad guys off the street (and out of the water) and put them behind bars.

The cast and the stories may change, but in a chaotic world, the reliability of these crime-solving characters to make things right before the hour ends puts NCIS high on the list of comfort TV.

It’s not high-concept TV and won’t win any awards for groundbreaking storytelling. But it’s the show that makes us feel, for an hour a week, like everything will be okay. 

That’s something we all need sometimes.

[currebunz]

Ch.9 Reconcile and rest

Buy me a coffee

Parings: Reader x Vash & Wolfwood

The question held more weight than you had expected. Your throat felt dry and your heart dropped into your stomach after you said it. From the looks on their faces, you weren’t sure what to think. Nicholas had always been good at a poker face, but this time he wasn’t keeping up a facade. He looked confused, clearly he had no idea what you meant. But Vash was different, he looked like she had reopened a scar of his. He was almost paralyzed, how did you know that name? Did he slip up? He couldn’t have imagined Knives had said anything to you, or he hoped not.

“I don’t know who that is, needle noggin?” Nicholas turned to Vash.

“I….I don’t know that name either…” he said sadly.

You knew he was lying but you didn’t want to cause a scene right now. Getting out of here was our first priority, even if it made you upset. His face was sad, but it wasn’t confused. Vash couldn’t lie to you even if he wanted to.

“Forget it, let’s go,” you said.

Once again, they tried to find a way out. There was a loud crash as some of the ceiling gave way.

“Ahhh! It’s the ghosts!” Meryl’s scream echoed out. You followed the light and saw her covering her eyes.

“It’s called gravity-…would you look at that” Roberto waved to you.

Meryl moved her hands and her eyes lit up with relief.

“Seven! You’re okay!” she cheered.

Nicholas and Vash joined you, waving to her too. There was still the issue with how you would get up.

“Too bad none of us can fly,” Nicholas sighed.

“I’m sure we can find a way up,” Vash chuckled.

“We just need something to stand on” you said as you reached your hands up.

The ground under you shifted and suddenly all three of you were launched up through the hole. Nicholas grabbed your collar, pulling you to him as you landed on the sand. Vash landed next to you both. You shook the sand from your face and looked around for what had launched you all.

“W-what happened?” you asked.

Meryl and Roberto looked just as shocked as you did.

“You just flew out the hole!” Roberto exclaimed.

“D-Did you get ejected by something?” Meryl asked.

You weren’t sure what she meant, nothing had appeared under you. At least you didn’t think so.

“We didn’t do anything, right?” you waved your hand to Vash.

Suddenly, the sand kicked up and he was pushed by a wave of sand.

“Vash?!” you gasped.

“Hahaha! What was that?” Nicholas chuckled.

“Nico!” you turned to him.

A wave of sand pushed him over too.

“Wait, it’s you?” Roberto said in shock.

You looked at your hands, what was going on?! You put your arms to your side as the two men recovered. Vash quickly ran over to you.

“Take deep breaths, okay?” he said with a soft smile.

You nodded, trying to calm yourself down.

“W-what’s going on?” you asked him.

Vash gently took your hands in his, pointing them downward.

“I’m not sure, but if we calm down a bit I’m sure we can figure it out,” he said with a kind smile.

You looked into his eyes, doing your best to calm down.

“Okay” you said.

Nicholas walked over, giving Vash a glare.

“Hey needle-noggin, what do you know about this?” he asked.

“Huh? I’m just as lost as you are” Vash said with an awkward laugh.

“Yeah right” Nicholas grumbled.

Despite your condition, Roberto had brought up that the truck had begun working again. After what you had been through, you just wanted to get to a bed. You kept thinking about the dream you had seen when you were underground. It felt familiar but nothing about it stuck to you. Who was that woman? The truck hit a dune, causing a bump that knocked you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, space cadet. You alright?” Nicholas asked.

You frowned at him.

“I’m fine, just tired” you sighed.

“Well, don’t be too tired. We’re coming up on a town….and it doesn’t look too good” Roberto announced.

You leaned forward to peer ahead. There was a town, but it looked in bad shape. The closer the truck came, you could see most of the structures were barely sitting upright. Vash and Nicholas leaned forward too, smooshing their faces against yours as they tried to peek.

“Hey!” you yelped.

Fortunately, Meryl hit another dune, sending you all tumbling backward into the seat. You heard the other two groan as they hit the windows on the side.

“Everyone be careful, I don’t see anyone outside” Meryl warned.

As she drove into town, there wasn’t a soul outside. She parked the truck, allowing everyone to begin looking around. Vash and Nicholas tried the houses while you went with Meryl to look around. It wasn’t a ghost town, there were signs people were still living there. You figured they were hiding from something. The question was, from what? Vash had finally found an old man who had chosen a poor hiding place. He appeared shaken and fearful of something.

“Now you’ve gone and done it! It’s coming!” the man shrieked.

“What’s coming?” Vash asked.

You heard something moving fast, shifting sand like never before. The wind kicked up and something was approaching quickly, too quickly. Before you knew it, the sand had dispersed and something black had appeared. It moved too fast for you to see, grabbing the man and then launching itself into the air. You caught a glimpse of it but it just looked like swirling darkness to you.

“What is that?!” you gasped.

Vash and Nicholas chased after it, trying to get an aim at the thing without hurting the old man. It was too fast, darting from spot to spot erratically. Even you were unsure you could get a hit on it.

“What do we do? It’s moving too fast!” Meryl exclaimed.

The old man was still yelling a lot, giving you an idea. You found a metal pipe and hit it against a metal stand. The loud clang reverberated through the area loudly. The swirling mass of darkness stopped.

“Come here! I’m being really loud!” you shouted.

You had been successful in gaining its attention as the thing dropped the old man and headed in your direction. This time, Vash and Nicholas fired at it without restraint. Their bullets did nothing as the ball of darkness approached you. Even though you had acted on a whim, you weren’t running from it.

“Idiota! Move!” Nicholas shouted.

You balled up your hand into a fist, striking the ball as it reached you. The darkness dispersed, leaving nothing but smoke behind. It left you startled but you couldn’t find it anywhere. Meryl and Roberto were the first to approach you, the two appeared just as startled as you were.

“Are you okay?!” Meryl asked.

“I…I don’t feel different?” you weren’t sure how to respond.

Vash and Nicholas were upon you, both looking equally as panicked.

“What the hell was that?! You could’ve been killed!” Nicholas yelled.

You knew he was right, but you were already frustrated.

“And?! You did the same earlier!” you shouted at him.

“Hey, you two…” Vash tried to get between you both.

“Stay out of it!” you both yelled at him.

Vash put his hands up and backed away from you both. He could tell that he shouldn’t try and get between you both at the moment. Meryl and Roberto even backed up as you both continued.

“Well, at least I had a plan? What was yours? Punch it?” Nicholas argued.

You hesitated, swallowing your pride to answer him.

“I…I didn’t have a plan really…” you confessed.

The other three watching had their jaws opened in shock.

“I just was fed up and punched it, everything else sorted itself out in the end. So no big deal” you crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him.

“No big deal? What if you end up getting some kind of illness from that thing?!” Nicholas growled.

“I’ll handle it” you argued.

“No, I’ll handle it. You’ll be too sick to do anything or worse!” he yelled.

“What is up with you? It doesn’t matter what happens to me after the fact” you said.

“It matters to me dammit!” Nicholas growled.

You stumbled for a moment, your mind going blank. What did he say?

“Nico?” your voice had quieted down.

He realized what he had said, stiffening up and turning around.

“Let’s just find somewhere to rest, we’re all tired” he grumbled before leaving.

No one stopped him nor followed him. One by one, the townspeople came out of hiding to rejoice. Their cheers were static to you as your eyes stayed locked onto Nicholas’s back until you couldn’t see him anymore.

“Um, Seven?” Vash spoke softly to you.

Your eyes shifted to him and he smiled.

“Can I speak to you for a moment?” he asked.

“Sure…” you felt like you were running on autopilot as you followed Vash.

The two of you had found a quiet alley way to talk. Vash checked the area, making sure no one was eavesdropping. You were still in a daze, not paying attention to how careful he was being.

“Can I see your hand?” he asked.

“Yeah?” you held out both hands for him to see.

Vash turned them over, examining them intently. His brows furrowed, but there was no alarm on his face. Only worry.

“I see…” he mumbled.

“See what?” you asked.

“Oh, nothing. That’s the thing, it doesn’t seem like anything changed. But there has to be a reason for those strange powers and you being able to take that….thing” he explained.

“And?” you urged him to continue.

“You’ve been using energy…energy only plants can produce…” Vash said quietly.

You swallowed.

“Vash….I’m human” you said in a shaky voice.

“You are, you really are. Please, I didn’t mean to…” he stopped himself.

You hugged yourself, too much was happening too fast for your liking.

“Can I just get some rest? This is a lot” you confessed.

Vash flashed a warm smile, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Of course you can, let’s head to the inn. We already got rooms” he agreed.

Vash escorted you to the Inn, but left you to the room that was given to you. That left you to assume he had his own this time or was staying with Nicholas. Either way, you were too tired to think about it. You stumbled into the room, falling on the bed as you thought about what Nicholas had said. It wasn’t like he hadn’t expressed concern over you before. It had just never been so bad that he argued with you like that.

‘Just forget it…’ you thought.

The door to your room opened and you sat up, who would come in without knocking? Your worry immediately went out the window when you saw Nicholas. You assumed he came back to yell at you some more or something.

“If it’s about earlier, I don’t want to talk about it” you said.

The floorboards creaked as he approached you, he didn’t say anything.

“Nico, I said I don’t want to talk about-” you felt the bed dip as he sat down.

“I’m sorry” he said gruffly.

You were surprised by his apology.

“Not just before, I’m sorry about everything. I should’ve told you more…” he trailed off.

“Nico, stop. I don’t need your apologies. I need you to just promise you won’t hide anything anymore” you said.

Nicholas sighed, turning to face you.

“I promise, no more secrets,” he smiled.

“Good, no more secrets” you smiled back.

Nicholas shifted, his smile faltering.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“What? Of course I do” you scoffed, what did he mean by that?

“Let me see your back then” he demanded.

“What?”

“You heard me”

You were caught off guard but you couldn’t think of any reason to deny him. You turned your back to him, doing as he said.

“Not like that” he sighed.

You jumped when you felt his hands on your back.

“I need to see your skin,” he said quietly.

You swallowed, unable to determine if he was being serious or this was another attempt at flirting.

“Are you trying to flirt with me again?” you asked.

“I wouldn’t- I mean, it’s not like that. Think of it as a physical examination” he said.

“You planning on being a doctor now?” you grinned.

“You’re really making it hard for me to not throw you out the window” Nicholas grumbled.

Now that you were sure he meant no teasing, you slowly began to remove your clothes to expose your back. You weren’t aware of anything being back there, so you were curious as to what he was going to do.

“You’ve been gathering petals, haven’t you?” he asked.

“Um, I think. Vash mentioned something like that before” you confessed.

You could hear Nicholas curse under his breath but you weren’t sure what he said.

“Is that a bad thing?” you asked.

“No….that’s part of our job” he confessed.

You were about to press him for more details but stopped when you felt his hand on your back. His fingers were tracing something, maybe a pattern or veins.

“Nico?” you called to him.

“Each time you find one, something changes. I don’t have all the answers and I won’t until this is all over. But I want you to know one thing” he began.

You held your breath, waiting to hear what he had to say.

“I won’t let anything happen to you when this is over” he swore.

The weight of his words hung heavy in your mind, the mystery and emotion behind them sunk your heart into your stomach. Never had Nicholas been so vulnerable with you.

“Okay….” was all you could say to him.

A moment passed before the door opened, startling you both. Vash stood there, holding a bag in his hands.

“S-Seven?!” he stammered and nearly dropped his bag.

“Vash?” you said.

He stood there, as if being caught in some embarrassing act.

“Did I….interrupt something?” he asked.

“Needle-noggin…” Nicholas growled.

You grabbed Nicholas before he could stand up.

“Who’s room is this Nico?” you asked.

He scowled, refusing to look at you.

“Nico” you said firmly.

“It’s our room okay?!” Nicholas confessed.

“Wait, I thought this was our room?” Vash asked.

Nicholas gritted his teeth.

“You put all three of us in one room?!” both you and Vash shouted.

Once you had a chance to explain what was going on, Vash shared what was in his bag.

“I bought some donuts, I thought you would like some” he smiled. “Thank you” you were glad he had thought of you.

Nicholas scowled, lighting a cigarette. He had moved to one of the chairs in the room. Vash still appeared tense, feeling like he had interrupted the two of you. But he couldn’t leave the room after seeing the markings on your back. He didn’t know what they meant, he didn’t get answers either. Although he was left in confusion, it was put at ease watching you enjoy the doughnuts.

“Why are you so against sharing a room with us?” Nicholas decided to address the elephant in the room.

Vash nearly choked on his doughnut.

“W-Why else? The bed isn’t exactly big enough for all of us…” Vash said.

Nicholas didn’t appear convinced, blowing smoke out from his mouth.

“Seven doesn’t seem to mind,” he pointed out.

“Oh I mind, I mind that no one asked if I was okay with it first” you glared at him.

Nicholas rolled his eyes and looked back at Vash. The latter froze, feeling Nicholas’s eyes on him. The two were quiet, making you uneasy.

“Nico, drop the single dad act. Vash isn’t that kind of person” you said.

“I’m not worried about you, this guy probably never even thought about making a move on you” Nicholas scoffed.

“I’m still here…” Vash said weakly.

“Then, what’s the deal?” you asked.

Nicholas whistled, turning his gaze to Vash.

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about, I just realized he thinks about you a lot more than you think about him~” Nicholas chuckled.

Vash’s face turned red, oh, he had been figured out. You pouted, tired of Nicholas’s cryptic talk.

“Well, I’m going to go check our water supply. You just….work on your old man speak or something” you sighed.

The moment you left the room and was out of earshot, Vash was on his hands and knees.

“Please don’t tell them!” he begged.

“Ah? Tell them what?” Nicholas sneered.

Vash couldn’t look him in the eye, keeping his forehead on the floor.

“Tell them…I touched myself to them….” he said quietly.

“Ah? Couldn’t hear you, what was that?” Nicholas’s amusement only skyrocketed from here.

Vash could tell he wasn’t going to get out of this easily.

“Oh come on, Wolfwood! Please?” he whined.

Nicholas put his cigarette out, a sadistic smile on his face.

“You know, that’s some real perverted stuff. I haven't even thought about doing that” he smirked.

“You don’t have to rub it in…” Vash sobbed.

Nicholas chuckled, leaning his head onto his palm as he towered over the kneeling Vash.

“I’m past that, I’m more interested in what you are going to try to do to my partner” he said.

“Huh?” Vash squeaked.

“What? You aren’t just going to pine over them until you die, are you?” Nicholas asked.

Vash stayed quiet, silent answer in his stead.

“El burro sabe mas que tu!” Nicholas cursed.

“Come again?” Vash asked.

“Donkeys know more than you, is this more of that ‘good will’ of yours?” Nicholas grumbled.

“I….I don’t deserve them…” Vash confessed.

“That’s not for you to decide and it’s not fair to them” Nicholas glared.

Vash sighed in defeat, of course he knew. But he couldn’t tell the whole truth, he wanted things to be better for you this time.

“It’s….complicated” he confessed.

“Yeah, well. I don’t care. I’m only concerned about Seven. If you are planning to just leave them high and dry, then I’ll kill you myself” Nicholas warned.

“And what about you?” Vash asked.

“Guh!” Nicholas choked, going stiff.

Vash had a knowing smile on his face.

“You love Seven, don’t you?” he asked.

Nicholas grabbed Vash by the collar and pulled him to stand up. Vash just smiled, not willing to back down either.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, needle-noggin…” Nicholas warned.

“The way you were talking made it sound like you were giving up too. I can’t stand by while someone important to me gets hurt” Vash said.

Nicholas glared at him, letting go of his collar.

“I ain’t giving up on them…I just…” Nicholas trailed off.

“Want them to be happy? We’re both being selfish here, but at least we can make Seven happy until it’s over….right?” Vash grinned.

But his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’ll be sure to tell them this was all your idea” Nicholas scoffed.

Vash made a defeated sound, fumbling to try and argue his way out of it. But Nicholas gave him a pointed look and held his hand out.

“May the best man win,” he said.

“Wolfwood….” Vash said quietly.

……

“I’m not betting on this”

“Yeah, they’ll kill us if we do that”

[happyinjection]

Episode 8 left me with SO MANY thoughts and they’re all over the place. Great episode with gorgeous action scenes (which got me hooked to the show in the first place). Please don't mind me, I need to rant for a bit.

The lore dump that is Finn’s past is not entirely unexpected, but to see it confirmed is... whoa. So now we know that he did lose his family in a house fire involving a “knight” in black. Perhaps the knight is a player too? But why is he targeting Finn’s family, and how did Finn survive the strike? Did someone come to save him, or is his survival also part of his “destiny”? (since he’s clearly not just some guy)

Finn’s brother is still nowhere to be seen and hidden on purpose. But Tilt’s appearances in this ep is basically a nod toward the theory that he is indeed Finn’s biological brother, or at the very least, is watching over him, right? Iris (the girl from episode 1! finally) shows up as well, and she does take part in protecting Finn from Bobby, is it possible that she’s receiving orders from Tilt?

And this. This shot has been bugging me since last night.

Whose hand is this? The recurrent appearance of Mr. Apple is getting sus too (he’s so funny tho). Is he working with a player? Has he been watching over Finn? The glove has a heart symbol on it so it must be a Heart card, right? And heart card = abilities related to body manipulation so is it really what I’m thinking? Is Mr. Apple a shapeshifter maybe? Could it be he’s actually Tilt himself?!

I also noticed that they really love putting emphasis on how Chris likes to claim himself as Finn’s “trusted older bro” huh (I can make a compilation tbh). I wonder if Tilt (or anyone else in that matter) turns out to be Finn's real biological brother, are they setting up for “choose between your actual older bro or Chris!” situation?

And if Chris turns out to be working with the Klondikes or is betraying Finn in some way… gah (I mean, Chris is technically responsible for dragging Finn into this whole business, putting aside the fact that Finn likely has been involved for a long time without himself realizing).

There’s also Bobby playing not one, but two cards! In an official tweet, and I think also in one of the early episodes (was it Bernard?) it is stated that a player can only play a maximum of one card. How does Bobby manage to break that rule? Is it a something developed by the Klondikes? Is it actually possible to do so from the beginning, but with fatal side effects? (btw the Klondikes look a lot like a cult huh lmao... Ban, you scare me)

Frankly “X-hand” is a ridiculous name but oh well. I guess it is possible to play more than one card as long as it follows the rule of poker hands? Bobby’s cards are “a pair”.... right? Also now I’ve got an idea of what Ban probably meant by “X-blind” in episode 5, perhaps it is when one person play all 52 cards at once? Just like the boy-king in Fourland history.

Lindsey basically saying “I’m happier if you don't come back here at all” when Finn has given his everything for Sunfields is just brutal... even more so when you realize that Leo has in fact said the same thing in the side story but now that Lindsey has confirmed it... pain.

Speaking of Finn and Chris, I also have a lot of thoughts about their relationship but I think I'm saving that for another post. For now let’s put out that martial arts training short story quick before next week so we can all scream together (please scream with me).

[nol0nqerhuman]

GHOSTIN’

summary: One fateful day a student from JYP University goes missing. Lee Minho is a dance major, on October 31, 2023 he goes missing. Luckily for him a journalism student cares enough to look for him with the victim’s friends.

masterlist

ㅤㅤ˖ ࣭ ࣪ ✦ ࣭ ֗ ♆ ࣩ ࣪ ⋆ ࣭ ࣪ ✷ ࣭ ࣪ ࣺ

Lee Minho was a very eccentric man, since he could talk he always confused people with double meanings, even his friends and family couldn’t understand him. He had never thought that would even be in this position now, phasing through walls and being completely unnoticeable to everyone. Maybe it was a blessing from God, maybe it was a curse but whatever it was, it surely wasn’t normal. He never thought to hard about the afterlife, but it wasn’t this. For all he knew, he was the only person, or unliving, like this. The first few days after his ‘death’, he was shocked at what he become, after the first few weeks, he began experimenting with things he could do and soon had a list, visibility control, object interaction, electrical manipulation and floating, after his one month death anniversary he got used to is new ‘life’.

ㅤㅤ˖ ࣭ ࣪ ✦ ࣭ ֗ ♆ ࣩ ࣪ ⋆ ࣭ ࣪ ✷ ࣭ ࣪ ࣺ

After a month with no news on Minho, except for a guy he claimed to see him appear and disappeared right in front of him, Chan and his friends weren’t exactly elated to wake up everyday. It got so bad too the point where Hyunjin gathered everyone to his dorm. “We can’t keep on waiting for them” Hyunjin said to break the silence, “Waiting for what” Changbin questioned. “For them to find Minho obviously, we have to do something, it’s like everyone forgot about him,” “Isn’t that a bad idea though, won’t we get in trouble by the police” Chan said. “Only if they find out” “ Yeah but how will we find him?” “Super awesome detective skills, duh” Han said rolling his eyes dramatically. “Okay so everyone agrees” Felix said. Everyone nodded, “Omg guys i’m literally a genius, you know that girl that interviewed Chan for the newspaper” Felix said, “Yeah”, “ Ok so basically she’s in the same year as me and apparently she’s super smart, and not just in her classes or whatever she’s like nerd smart, but anyways what if we ask her to help us find him?” “To be honest, he has a point but it matters on if she’ll agree in the first place.” Chan agreed. “Ok so where would she be now?”….

ㅤㅤ˖ ࣭ ࣪ ✦ ࣭ ֗ ♆ ࣩ ࣪ ⋆ ࣭ ࣪ ✷ ࣭ ࣪ ࣺ

Y/N was in Lia’s room listening to her rant while she inputted her two cents every once and a while, when the story got more interesting she would talk much more and be expressive but right now it was about her teacher who wasn’t even that bad she was just getting distracted because of Yeji and the drama she knew. “And then, he calls on me, knowing I was not paying attention at all and made me do a improv scene with him for a minute, completely unprepared!” “That sound devastating”, you say with a poker face, “Don’t make fun of me you nerd” “ I’m not a nerd!” “Yuh-uh” “Nuh-uh” “Yuh-uh” “Nuh-uh, Oh wait I have my reporting’s class in ten minutes, bye” “Byeee!”.

ㅤㅤ˖ ࣭ ࣪ ✦ ࣭ ֗ ♆ ࣩ ࣪ ⋆ ࣭ ࣪ ✷ ࣭ ࣪ ࣺ

Felix had thought that the gods themselves had blessed him when he saw Y/N walking to her class, jogging to catch up to her he stopped a few feet away and called out “Hey, are you Y/N?” “Yeah, what do you need” she answered casually but was freaking out because why is a random guy asking about her and for what. “You’re the one that did the page about Minho a month ago right?” “Yes I did, why” “ Okay basically, me and my friends want to find him because the police haven’t found anything and you’re really smart so we want your help to find him”. Wow, whatever she thought he needed, it definitely wasn’t something as obscure as that, “Maybe, I’ll think about” “Really! Wait let’s exchange numbers and you can text me your decision.” After exchanging numbers they both went to their respective ways. The question had been on her mind all day, she couldn’t focus on her classes. I don’t even know him why should I help, but that’s so mean and if I don’t help he won’t be found and the guilt would eat me alive, but what if they were lying and they are the ones that kidnapped him and they’re trying to take me too. No that’s stupid, they’re best friends, omg if I help I could write about it in the editorial and the case will get more recognition because it seems like everyone forgot about it even the police. Pulling out her phone, he hovered over the keypad before finalizing her decision and saying yes.

I’ll help you find him

seen 5:05

omg tysm i’ll go tell my friends, let me add you to the gc for this

You have been added to undercover detectives 🕵️‍♂️ 🧐🔍

hello?

seen by felix and channie 5:05

ㅤㅤ˖ ࣭ ࣪ ✦ ࣭ ֗ ♆ ࣩ ࣪ ⋆ ࣭ ࣪ ✷ ࣭ ࣪ ࣺ

this kinda rushed but yay now yn is a part of the detective squad

©️nol0nqerhuman 2023

[writtenjewels]

Ride Along part 3

Part One, Part Two

Salim pulled his patrol car into its usual space and headed into the station. Jason was already there waiting for him in the lobby with the bulletproof vest on. Salim was a little surprised that the younger man wanted to shadow him again; he thought for sure Jason had hated the stakeout. Salim acknowledged him with a wave and got some coffee for them both.

“I hope I didn't keep you waiting long,” Salim said.

“Nah. Just long enough for some of the officers to wonder if I was waitin' to be booked for somethin'.” Jason took the coffee with a nod of thanks and sipped it.

“You do have that sort of face,” Salim teased. Jason gave him a look but couldn't stop the little upward twitch of his mouth. Apparently he liked the banter between them as much as Salim did.

“If you're done bein' a smart-ass, you owe me a trip to the courthouse.”

That was true, but when they went to lunch yesterday they got to talking and Salim had forgotten about it. It turned out that at one point, they were both on the track for military careers. Salim managed to be accepted into the police academy instead while Jason had failed his physical and turned to acting instead. He caught the bug and was now making it his career. Salim had dropped Jason off at some acting group yesterday with the promise of another ride-along.

“How did your acting meeting go?” Salim wondered as he drove.

“It was an improv class,” Jason corrected him. “And it was fun. I take it every week to keep my acting skills sharp. I can show you once we reach the courthouse.”

“I'd love that,” Salim agreed in delight.

Once they arrived, Salim gave a quick tour of the space. Jason nodded along, probably familiar with the layout from various movies and television shows.

“You ever have to do a shift here?”

“On smaller cases, or when I'm the arresting officer. They would have someone with more experience if it was a more high-profile case.”

Jason was walking the space, taking it in. He paused by the witness stand and the judge's desk. When he turned back to Salim, his face had shifted to one of worry. He grabbed Salim by the wrist and pulled him toward the front row of audience seating.

“Quick, get down!”

“What's wrong?”

“Just keep your head down,” Jason hissed. “I don't think they followed us.” They who? What was he talking about? “If they do find us,” Jason went on, “we could claim sanctuary.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

Jason made the time-out gesture. “I'm showin' you what improv is like. I started the scene and your job is to keep it goin'. Feed off of what I give ya and I'll bounce it right back, creatin' a whole story.”

“I see.” This wasn't what he expected when Jason offered to show Salim improv. “I don't have any acting experience,” Salim warned.

“It's okay, just say whatever comes to mind.”

“I'll give it a try,” Salim agreed. “Though... why did you make us criminals hiding from the law?”

“I didn't.” Jason flashed a grin. “You did just now. And we're rollin' with it.” He made the time-in gesture and gave Salim a nod to continue. Silence hung between them as Salim hunted for what to say. Jason said something about sanctuary...

“We can't claim sanctuary here, not after what we've done.”

“We ain't got much choice, Salim.” His heart gave a funny little skip hearing his first name spoken so casually.

“No. I think we should fight.” Jason raised an eyebrow. “If we stand together, we could win,” Salim explained.

“Okay, I'm with ya. You got anything we can use as weapon around here?” Of course he did: Salim always carried a weapon on the job. But he wasn't going to pull a gun out here. Before he could say so, Jason mimed picking something up and tapping it against the palm of his hand. “Found a fireplace poker.”

“And you can use this,” Salim decided, handing over another invisible object. “I used the poker to pry that metal off the wall.”

“Nice one.” Jason lifted it like he was holding up a shield. The sword and the shield. It was fitting, somehow. “Now let's kick some ass!”

“End scene?” Salim suggested.

“Yep.” Jason grinned at him. “That was awesome! I wasn't expectin' a fight.”

“I suppose I've always been more of a confrontational person,” Salim mused. “And you were right, it was fun. Though we really should get back to my patrol if you want to study law enforcement.”

“Sure.” Silence fell between them and Salim turned to lead them back outside the courthouse. “Just no more stakeouts, all right?”

“If you insist.” Salim hid a smile. “I don't grill that much, anyway.” He waited and was rewarded with a snort and a roll of Jason's eyes.

“Your jokes are so fuckin' terrible.”

“You laugh at them,” Salim pointed out.

“I didn't say I didn't like 'em,” Jason shrugged. This time Salim couldn't hide the smile, and he felt his heart flutter again.

[jmrothwell]

Fanfic asks! 🖊 🧠 ⏰

Hey Ash! OMG! I was about to post this answer when tumblr glitched on me and deleted it all!! OTL.

Answers rearranged because this got long(again)

Fanfic Ask Game (the movie, the sequel)

⏰ Do you spend more time reading fic, writing fic, or do you do both equally?

Honestly, I think reading. (Especially if we count rereading your own work XD) But seriously, there are just SO MANY GOOD FICS!! And sometimes my brain goes "MUST READ ALL OF THEM" and I get stuck reading and rereading.

🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

OMG! So many!!!!!! Like a ridiculous number. Some are just snippets of scenes with no other context (Reggie punching Caleb in the jaw, or Reggie somehow winnning strip poker) some of them are simply vibes (Interstellar by LeBrock is begging to be a fic but I don't know what kind) but most of my ideas I save as prompts/or potential future prompt fill ideas. Some of those include:

rulie or peterpatterlina: post nightmare hurt/comfort : bonus points if ghost magic is involved

???/Reggie :??? will never forget the day they met, it was one of the worst days of their life. Reggie will always remember the day they met, it was one of the best days of his life.

Soulmate AU: The world turns into a literal game of hot or cold. The more recently your soulmate touches something the warmer it is. One day the refrigerated soda Julie handed over to Reggie feels like it just came out of an oven.

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

I'm pretty sure I've shared part of this one with you before, but here's a bit from the Eventual Part 3 of Let the Rain Pour (The Regal Butterfly, Everyones Alive AU of mine)

"Right. Which one of you have it?" Reggie demanded as soon as he spotted Flynn and Julie sitting at the kitchen island. 

They turned their beautifully beguiling doe eyes to him, the homework spread out in front of them readily forgotten. "Have what?" Julie asked, barely managing to prevent her voice from doing that high pitched climb it always did when she lied.

"No, don't do that." He pointed between the two of them and their too innocent smiles. "That's not going to work this time."

He squinted when Flynn tried to disguise a giggle as a cough. The gears were already shifting in their heads and he could see that telepathic link of theirs firing up. Too bad for them he was bound and determined to not lose his resolve today. It'd been two days now and he'd be damned if he let this go past a third. "Where is my jacket?"

“Ok, I’ll give it back, I just have to find it first.” Julie said 

“You have to find it?” Reggie squinted at her, trying to figure out her logic. Julie simply nodded with what she must have assumed would be a disarming smile, not offering any assistance or insight into what was happening in her mind. “Where–? Why–? It’s a leather jacket, you can’t exactly lose it in the wash. How could you have lost it?”

“I haven’t lost it.”

[gorogues]

Fictober 2022

Prompt number #14 Fanfiction Fandom: Flash Rogues Rating: R Warnings: Homophobia, mind control, profanity.

Day Fourteen: “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

Hartley sat sullenly at a bar on the other side of town, insensitive words ringing in his ears.

“That damn rich guy,” “the pipe poof,”, and his personal favourite, “the polka-dotted dipshit”.  He overheard everything from everyone and was sick of it all.  It was time to strike out on his own to work solo, which had always suited him best anyway.  The Rogues were fun, but they could be jerks sometimes, especially to those who didn’t fit in as well.

He’d been nursing a single beer for hours, mostly using the opportunity to listen for gossip that could lead to a heist.  Instead he mostly heard drunken carousing from a whole host of idiots, but at least it wasn’t the usual idiots he knew.  It was enjoyable to be anonymous, at least for a night.

But the feeling wasn’t to last.  A man he didn’t recognize sat down next to him and asked the bartender to give Hartley a second bottle of the beer he was drinking.

“I think I know you from somewhere,” the man said after a minute or two, and Hartley swallowed somewhat uncomfortably; it could have been from the supervillain crowd, or might have been from the dating scene.  He wasn’t particularly thrilled to meet anyone from either group right now.

“You’re probably mistaken,” Hartley said politely, but the man shook his head.

“Nah.  You’re the Pied Piper, right?  I’m the Gunsmith, I run with the Keystone Kids.”

“Sorry, I’m not familiar with that group,” Hartley admitted with some regret, though the man laughed.

“We’re pretty new, still getting together and seeing what works.  Trying to figure out who’d be a good fit for the group.  You wanna pull a job with us?”

Hartley paused.  Despite his intention to operate solo, there were reasons to work with a crew: there were others to watch your back, people to bounce tech ideas off of, and even just the camaraderie that came with socializing between jobs.  And maybe he’d fit in better with another group than he had with the Rogues.

“…I might.  Tell me more,” Hartley said cautiously, and the Gunsmith smiled.

“We’re gonna knock over a country club full of rich people.  Ever heard of the Astaire Estates?”

Hartley nodded silently, as his parents were longstanding members.

“So we’re gonna loot the place, and then hold some of the top fatcats hostage until they meet our demands for more money.” 

Hartley didn’t necessarily like the idea, but wasn’t truly opposed to it either.  It seemed like a solid concept, and he knew perfectly well that the wealthiest citizens in town could afford to be shaken down for more funds.  But something about this man’s grin bothered him.

“Yes.  No.  I don’t know,” he said after a few moments’ thought.  “Have you mapped out your escape route afterward?”  The best way to discover someone’s intent was to poke holes in their plan, to see what angles they were aiming for.

“We’re going to blast our way out, brother, with the kind of firepower these fuckers will never see coming.  Escape will be easy.  So, are you in?”

“Hell yes,” Hartley said with his best poker face, desperately wanting out of there.  “Where do you guys meet?”

“You can come down to our clubhouse right now, if you want.  A bunch of guys are probably shooting the shit,” the Gunsmith replied, hopping off his stool.  He tossed a hundred-dollar bill at the bartender -- far more than the cost of his tab -- and the two men walked out into the night.

Hartley was feeling increasingly nervous, concerned that this guy was going to slit his throat in a dark alley.  So he needed to act first.

As soon as they turned a corner, Hartley pulled out his flute and began to play.  The soothing notes sweetly pacified the man, who was soon swaying in time with Hartley’s motions.

“You need to forget this plan at the Astaire Estates.  It’s over, there will be no violence.  And you need to take me to the rest of the group so I can do the same to them,” Hartley commanded, and the Gunsmith smiled vacuously at him.

“Yes, of course.  Follow me.”

It didn’t take long before Hartley was allowed into the Keystone Kids’ clubhouse, and he was able to entrance the members there too.  But this time, he added a new order to the assembled group.

“You guys are going to break up, and never work together again.  Maybe this’ll keep you from the kind of violence you’re clearly planning,” he told them, looking around in dismay at the amount of weaponry they’d already stockpiled.  There were no space age cold guns or weird mirrors or trick yo-yos; these people were heavily armed with conventional firepower that could tear a human body apart in an instant.  It left him deeply disturbed.

The Keystone Kids slowly separated and walked away in a daze, leaving all the guns behind.  And Hartley remained behind too, left alone in a bunker full of heavy armaments.  After a few moments’ thought, he pulled out his phone and called the Trickster.

“James, hi.  Could you put Mick on the phone?  I need him to burn a place full of nasty stuff, might get explosive.  And are the guys still hanging out tonight?  I…could bring some beer for everyone.”

[woah-were-halfway-there]

(I don't really know how to write a prompt but) A little spicy 🥲 but a dialogue prompt about Auston and Carson having a convo when he's on a road trip and he's worked up for her and a little extracurricular s happen over the phone.

Ooooof ok ok so the asks I got no one gave me actual dialogue, just concepts/scenarios hahaha 🤣😭 I meant like you guys give me a quote or two of dialogue you’d want spoken by one of the characters literally in any context and I’d write a scene around it but it’s all good I’ll try my best regardless hahaha but they’re not going to be long. Just enough to create the image. SO for this one:

It was nearing one in the morning, which was much later than Carson intended to be awake until, but with Auston being on the west coast for the next few days she didn’t want to cut their conversation short. They’d been talking on the phone over an hour, FaceTiming and just catching up with one another.

When Auston first called, Carson was in the bathtub enjoying some wine and trying to unwind a bit before going to bed. Auston wanted to unwind too, but he had a different idea on how to do so than Carson did.

“I’m surprised you’re still in the bath,” Auston said, shifting their topic of conversation. “Are you not cold?”

“Oh, no,” Carson replied. “I just keep adding some warm water. I didn’t want to get out until we were done talking.”

“You can get out, bub. Or I can let you go so you can.”

“No, no, it’s ok. I’m good. I also just left my towel over on the counter and I didn’t want to get out and be all… you know.”

Auston smirked at that, knowing exactly what Carson meant and decided to test the waters a bit, but not without teasing her a bit.

“Naked?” Auston asked bluntly and smirked even more when he saw the blush burning it’s way across his girlfriends cheeks. “I mean, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Auston,” Carson spoke softly while shaking her head.

Auston couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What? Am I wrong?”

“No, but you don’t have to say it.”

“I think you’re severely underestimating how hot you are, babe,” Auston told her, loving how he was making her squirm.

“And here I was thinking you liked me for my personality,” Carson grumbled in response, but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips too.

“I love you for your personality, the looks and body are an added bonus.”

“You’re too much.”

“And yet you’re still with me,” Auston replied and winked. Carson just shook her head, not saying anything but still smiling. It was then Auston decided he’d test the waters on taking a different approach to their conversation. “Wish I could see that body right now if I’m being completely honest.”

Carson’s smile fell at that, which had Auston thinking she may not be in the mood, but then she glanced at him on the screen under fluttered eyelashes and spoke again.

“What would you do if you could?” She asked almost whispering.

Auston exhaled.

“What I wouldn’t do is the real question. First off, I’d want to get a good look at you.”

“Good thing that can be arranged… kind of,” Carson said and before Auston knew it, she was turning her phone sideways and setting it down on a surface beside the bathtub that he couldn’t see, displaying her entirely naked upper body for him. “This is the best I can do for you.”

“Fuck,” Auston said, letting out a slight laugh at the breathless feeling he always got when looking at her so intimately. “You’re perfect.”

Carson started blushing again but kept her poker face as she leaned back against the porcelain, letting herself get comfortable.

“What would you do next?”

“I’d touch you. I couldn’t not with you looking like that, Carse. Since I can’t right now, could you do that for me?”

Carson was still blushing. Auston knew she still got shy doing this kind of stuff but he also knew that she trusted him to feel so open and vulnerable, which he didn’t take for granted. After a moment, she bit her lip nervously then nodded before bringing one hand to one of her breasts and gently squeezed while her other hand slid down off camera to where she ached for him most.

“Fuck,” Auston groaned again, not even bothering to hide how turned on he was watching her. “You’re so good for me.”

“Aus,” Carson started but had to stop as she let out a small moan, indicating she was feeling good.

“How’s that feel?”

“Really good,” Carson breathed as her movements gradually sped up. “I want you to feel good too.”

“So selfless,” Auston praised as he tugged down his track pants and boxers, freeing what was hardening with each passing second. He looked down at himself and stroked a couple of times before looking at Carson again. “Would you like to see?”

“Mhm,” Carson whimpered then let out another moan. That was enough to have Auston scrambling off the bed and rushing to the bathroom of his hotel room, making sure she could see as they pleased themselves to a release together.

[castle-dominion]

c1x8 ghosts I've watched a good amount of these!

Why was she submerged & then let out air & then she floated? Makes no sense.

Castle poker night; Espt dealing; Martha wanting to continue; "the working stiff" & then all the real cops laugh; Espt calling her "mrs R" <3; "Well, frankly, I prefer strip because even when you lose, you win." MARTHA (their faces XD); this entire scene is good. I love all their faces & the music playing & just everything here. KB: Man up, "bro" Martha! Shut up! The music I love the interactions between all of them. I think this is why I liked this scene, we get to see them as People. KR: Murder never sleeps, Ms. R. JE: Yeah, and neither do we. watching this entire scene again bc it's so adorable.

Motor oil is clear before it is used tho... in one-gallon jugs??? That sucks, lots of work.

KB: What about tonight? Anyone strange coming in or going out? Clerk: *shakes head* Jasmine, a deep voiced, bearded individual with long blonde hair, high heels, & a short skirt: Hey, Bill. Clerk/Bill: Jasmine. How's it hanging? RC: I think you just described half their clientele. lol I love the transcript, it calls Jasmine "tranny hooker" & tbh I wouldn't have it any other way. (Tho at the time the livejournal was written I don't think it was meant in a positive way.)

Castle, you move past the girlfriend no later than page 50. Love a good notebook.

Or so u think. Having seen this I know she had a LOT of secrets.

Ryan just making castle a coffee uwu, point for the rystle fans. There was an easier way of saying that espt. KR: Maybe Castle was right. Maybe this is about sex. JE: The lady was a soccer mom. RC: Come by my daughter's school at about 3:30. The place is like happy hour. (Ryan & castle share a look & ryan points at his nose) Their physicality, The nodding, the hands, the head shaking, the cocking & tilting, the turning, all of it.

Ah yes, grab a dead baby's ssn. Just like the first lesbian who got married in ireland. She was straight but legally married the man's dead sister.

MR: Kate Beckett is not some bimbo who needs big, strong you to look out for her. She's a real woman. And a real woman does not want to be patronized. AC: She's right, Dad. I love how he has these two beautiful women with him.

Ooh true crime. Neat.

Lol death over easy & the diner in the background. Did u want those yolks murdered? XD I'm (not) funny

RC: Yeah. Captain, the mayor, and Judge Markway. You know. Your boss. Your boss's boss, and the guy that signs your warrants.

Whose house is this? Lee Wax? the door is just open? sus. ngl I HATE stripes on a screen. Lol the shock at her being a woman. "I am the cops" Your publisher is so right. Murdered??? RC: Well, given your unhealthy obsession for her, I'm going to take a wild stab at you.

Oh yeah, Not a bad idea. RC: But you did anyway. LW: RC: Any true crime writer worth their salt is gonna check her story with other sources. KB: What for? LW: My book. RC: Whoa. You're gonna go through with it? But Cynthia's dead. LW: Correction. Cynthia was murdered. Which means her memoir just became a true crime story, Which is kind of my forte. You'd be doing me a huge favor. KB: You know, I-- I would love to, but I have a whole list of writers who are hanging around, looking for favors. So, thank you very much, though, for cooperating. And, um, catch you on the dark side. These two could totally have a fun night together & as another writer castle def feels for her.

Poor pike, talking to the family & prying up the past, for a book? for HER? I like adam. I like him a lot. Poor boy.

RC: It is a good story. It's a great story. Personally, I would just write a happier ending for that family.

At least he has a job. So you KNEW cynthia was writing the book? I like Swanstorm.

Ooh stories not matching up. She WAS writing for sympathy. Creativity is doing stuff, art is knowing what to keep.

KB: You talked to the publisher? RC: I am somewhat known in those circles????

Noooo not adam pike! AP: Because I wanted to look her in the eye. I wanted to tell her none of it mattered. Her blood money wouldn't buy our forgiveness.

Ah, they knew cynthia was alive, the money was coming.

Oh a random stranger. Pointing the finger to some rando. Wow castle lmao thru the glass.

Writer battle huh. If she was trying to get sympathy she would have told wax abt the money.

RC: Remind me if I ever decide to write a memoir, to never write a memoir.

They have a corkboard today not a whiteboard...?

Love the poker night. Castle is just... friends with these guys. Ooh it's their rematch. Judge: Oh, do us a favor, Detective. Beat his pants off. RC: Yes, please. Beat my pants off, if you dare. RM: Beckett, do me proud. Judge: To hell with "proud." Make him cry like a little girl. He said to call him bob. Castle is so... obnoxious. "Who's a good little boy? Who's a good little boy? You are. And you are. And you are." Judge: Don't you ever get tired of winning, Castle? Castle: Yeah, you'd think so, right? But no.

Yay all of them getting fancy coffees. Esposito has his coffee, & ryan made coffee for himself & castle, & beckett is getting her own coffee. It makes me think that ryan actually knows castle's coffee order. He's made esposito's before (or he does later in the series) & there was that time castle & beckett had their coffees but espt & ryan stole them & took a sip & then switched bc someone likes their coffee like the other. Castle gave beckett's coffee to ryan I think so beckett & ryan like the same coffee, but castle has also drank beckett's coffee before so maybe his order & beckett's are similar enough... idk bro. Do I care? Not actually that much. I just wish someone would watch thru the entire show, take note of all the coffee, & then present me with the facts & conclusion.

Wow they have houses? Thought they were living in NY. You did what you had to do to survive & that's ok! I have a friend from pennsylvania.

Didn't recognize her until castle said 20 years later & possibly scarred. Mail order to new york. I love the audio. I first watched this while recovering from a bad sunburn lol. I like her! She really is confessing everything. Tho Mary/Susan could be lying too ig. Suicide in the oil thing? really? Who is that dramatic? Audio <3 Part manslaughter, part self defense, part murder.

No rick, cynthia was the one who contacted wax. Altho ig you're theorizing well. r u two flirting or hating? Oh it is hate nvm. RC: Oh, and one more thing. One day, and one day not far from now, I'm gonna use this in a book. Weird vest she has there.

RC: Next time, I guess I'll just try that massage parlor on 2nd Avenue. BRUH

Just has a deck with him (was probs planning it tbh). I remember sneaking over to sit at the wrong lunchtable & playing cards with the 9th graders. I remember a story from my english teacher, she ran a poker ring gambling for who got to sit at the table. Lol mano a mujer hand to hand, (like head to head,) not man to man bro. Her gummy bears <3 it's probs what she has in the bowl on her desk. RC: Aside from my muscular arms? XD not funny (I say, having found it funny)

Aight that's it for now. TBH I'll probably watch an audio commentary version tonight instead of liveblogging bc I want to work out & it's hard to work out while you're trying constantly

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Miracle - Ch.3

Morpheus (Dream of the Endless) x reader (no gender/pronouns mentioned)

Summary: You and Morpheus adjust to life as parents and repairing sibling relationships when Desire calls in their favour. Warnings: canon-typical magic, small fight (choking) WC: 3230

Ch.1 || Ch.2 || Ch.3 || Ch.4 || Ch.5 || Ch.6

The day was as perfect as any that you or Morpheus could have created. The sun was shining and the park was filled with mortals socialising and having fun, it was just right for a family walk in The Waking. 

Dream’s hand warmed yours as they swung lazily intertwined, his other gripping the stroller and guiding it along the path. 

“Don’t you get hot wearing all those layers?”

“No,” Dream said with a hint of a smile. “Watching you take them all off me, however…”

He chuckled as his words had the desired effect and you lightly slapped his arm as your heartbeat raced with the idea. 

“Not in front of our baby girl,” you shhh’d him. “She’s too innocent to hear the filth that comes out of your mouth.”

His eyes peeked into the stroller and caught Hope’s, his smile growing wide until something caught his attention and his hand shot out to catch a wayward hacky sack that had flown towards her. Tossing it back without a word, the man stammered his apologies before hurriedly backing away. 

“Poor boy is going to have nightmares now.” 

“You think I am that cruel?” He dared with an arched eyebrow.

“No, my love,” you cooed, cuddling into his side and giving him a squeeze, “I think you are that petty.”

Your laughter filled the park as his long fingers tickled your ribs and he froze as he saw the effect it had on everyone around. Flowers sprang from the grass, a chorus of birds sung in harmony and smiles grew on everyone's faces. You had forgotten how tightly you had to hold the leash on your power in The Waking, especially after experiencing complete freedom in The Dreaming. 

You turned, taking in the scene until you reached Dream’s small apologetic smile. “If anyone asks any questions, I’m blaming you.”

His arm draped over your shoulders and his lips caressed your temple before he whispered in your ear, “I would gladly take the blame for causing you such joy.”

You continued on your walk once again, under the comforting weight of his arm and listening to the quiet reflections Dream murmured in your ear as he watched the mortals along the way. The afternoon was lost to his musings, his ability to know each and everyone of their names and dreams never ceasing to surprise you. Morpheus particularly enjoyed shocking you by pointing out dreamers like the happy-go-lucky teenage girl giggling with her friends, how she spent her nights ripping wings off butterflies. 

“That’s certainly morbid,” you said with a grimace before jutting your head at a gnarly looking man resting against his motorcycle. “What about him?”

“Kittens.”

You couldn’t tell if he was joking but you could see his eyes gleaming with mischief as if he was daring you to question him. His eyes watched your lips part to ask if he was sure but instead you gave him a quick kiss and said, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“There you are,” you exclaimed when you finally found Lucienne shelving books deep in the heart of the library. “I need your help.”

“Matthew said you would be coming,” she sighed but a hint of amusement turned it to a chuckle. “Yes, Mr Jarry dreams about kittens - particularly riding in a basket in front of his motorcycle.”

“Dammit, remind me never to play poker with Dream. Thanks, Lucienne.” 

She nodded with a smile before glancing back down at the book spines and continuing on her way. Unfurling your wings, you raced Matthew back to The Waking and found Dream deep in contemplation as he sat on a bench and fed the pigeons, Hope asleep in the stroller parked beside him. 

“You wanna get in there?” you asked the raven that hopped along behind you as you nodded your head to the swarm of birds before Dream.

“I am not a mindless pigeon, thank you very much. I would rather eat my own-” Matthew lost his train of thought as Dream tossed a crumb his way and the raven dove head first into the fray, cawing at the pigeons that got in his way. The black feathered bird paused only for a moment as he narrowed his beady eyes and opened his beak to say, “I’ll remember this, Dream.”

Dream’s deep laugh rumbled across the field and he sat back in the chair, beckoning you closer to chase away the shadows that lingered in his eyes. He still struggled to keep control of his thoughts when you were apart, they were always filling his mind with worst-case scenarios, but you were working through it with him. That century he spent caged in a basement had left deep, deep scars on his mentality. 

“I’m back,” you said gently as you took a seat on his lap. Resting your palm to his cheek, you thumbed the line of his cheekbone and he relaxed at the touch. The tension left his body and he let out a shuddering sigh, releasing him from the fear that had gripped him from the moment you left. 

Another deep breath and the light returned to his eyes along with a knowing smirk, “And?” 

You rolled your eyes and playfully nudged his side through the long leather cloak that hung around him. “You were right.” 

His lips brushed yours ever so softly and you felt his smile against your skin. “My second favourite three words to hear you say.” 

A retch drew you away from saying his favourites and you quirked an eyebrow at Matthew as he cawed. “That wasn’t gluten free bread was it? I was celiac when I was mortal.”

Dream’s brows furrowed together and his lips pursed before he dipped his head and admitted, “I did not know. Go home, Matthew, Cluracan can assist in finding a tonic - if he is sober.”

“Has he ever been?” 

“Indeed, so long as he is not catatonic in his inebriation he should be able to assist.” Dream corrected.

Matthew wasn’t going to hang around a moment longer and took off to the skies, disappearing into the sun. Dream tipped his head back and tossed the lump of bread aside, a perfect arc into the rubbish bin, and sighed heavily. 

“What’s going on in that handsome head of yours?” you asked softly as you brushed his hair back for an unimpeded view of his haunted blue eyes.

“Everywhere I look I find myself staring at a crossroads.” Those eyes darted around the park, following the pathways and tracks to the road and beyond to see what was there and what wasn’t. “I finally have everything I have never dared to dream of and with it comes the fear of losing it all, the fear of taking the wrong path.”

His arm tightened around your waist while his other hand reached into the stroller, his shaky fingers resting on Hope’s chest to feel the reassuring rise and fall of her steady breaths. You looked away from his trembling hand to where his eyes were fixated on the footpath that split the park from the exit to the businesses.

“The road I have walked has never split until now, one for the father I wish to be and one for the King I was made to be.” 

The quiet torment in his voice stole yours before you swallowed the lump in your throat and captured his face in your hands so he was forced to look at you.

“Dream, you do not have to choose between them. There doesn’t need to be the sacrifice of one to have the other. Look closer.”

You stood up and pulled Dream to his feet as he heeded your advice. His eyes cast over the park, searching. Once, twice. Then he saw it, a small strip of gravel that wove a path between the businesses and the park. The path that intertwined between his responsibilities.

You slipped your hand into his and rested your head on his shoulder. “The harder path less travelled, but a path nonetheless. And I will be with you every step of the way.” 

Six (Waking) Years Later “Aunt Death is here!” Hope screeched excitedly as she ran down the halls of the library. “Come, Lucy, we don’t want to be late.”

Hope wrapped a little hand around Lucienne’s and began tugging the Librarian towards the doors that lead to the reading room that would be toasty and warm thanks to the central hearth that burned brightly. 

Once a month Death would take a few hours out of her busy schedule to join the family for games night. Sometimes Delirium would join, if she found her way from the divine madness that blew through her mind. The others had all been invited to join, your idea - not Dream’s, but so far they had yet to show. It wasn’t surprising given Destruction hadn’t been seen in centuries and the Twins were not exactly family centric to anyone but each other.

Still, Dream wondered if one day they might all come together. If not to fill the void he felt with their absences but so that your daughter may know the family she has. You had taken her to the Silver City and the angels had absolutely doted upon her, how could he not wish to give her the same. 

You were draped over Dream’s throne, head resting on one arm with your legs hanging over the other as he paced the dias at the top of the stairs. A fingertip traced dark lenses of his helm he held, his crown, as his boots kept a steady beat on the concrete but he had long since stopped noticing. 

You knew he would talk to you when he was ready to divulge what weighed on his shoulders, or when he found no solution to the latest problem. You assumed it had something to do with the influx of demons breaking into the realm and that meant Lucifer was growing bored of the illusion of peace. She would not let her demons leave hell without her permission, especially not to enter another’s domain. 

With an exhausted sigh, Dream hung his helm over the ornate throne detailing and offered you his hand along with a soft smile. “Death is here.”

You let him pull you to your feet and smiled as he tucked away the pressures of being a King, the harsh lines of his clenched jaw easing as he tucked his face into your neck and inhaled your scent. When he straightened, his skin seemed flushed with colour and the gaunt pallor was gone, even his lips were a richer ruby colour.

“We better hurry, you know she cheats.” You reminded him as you tugged him towards the steps and out of the throne room. 

“You’re one to talk,” Dream teased as he cast a hand out and the doors swung open. 

“I do not cheat,” you retorted, an offended gasp tearing from your chest. “I merely make use of my gifts.”

“Next time you warp reality and change your cards remember you can’t have 5 of a kind.” Dream barely contained the smirk that caught the corner of his lip as you huffed in indignation. 

You knew poker would not be your game and all the rules had left your head spinning. After losing deal after deal last month you were desperate to win just once, swapping the useless cards in your hand for 5 aces. The only person who didn’t find it funny was Hope, ever the stickler for rules - much like her father.

You were hit by the warmth of the room that you stepped into a second before a wave of giggles. Hope had talked Death into unfurling her great black wings and danced around them wildly, her smile baring the gap where her two front teeth were missing. 

A new dream was now floating around the realm, created by Morpheus for Hope when her first baby tooth fell out. 

“Have you chosen the first game sweetheart?” you asked as she swooped out of the feathers and into your waiting arms, then moved on to her father.

She nodded enthusiastically and pointed to the well worn box on the polished table in the centre of the room. “Cluedo.”

You breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t Monopoly. No matter how well everyone got along, that game seemed to incite a riot. 

“Titi?” Hope asked as she skipped towards the table and the murder-mystery game that awaited. “If someone is killed, are you allowed to ask them who did it and tell the police?”

Death took a seat beside her niece and lifted the lid off the box as she answered, “Souls don’t often remember their last moments, it’s more peaceful and painless that way. Then, they are too focused on the lifetime of memories and choices they made, what afterlife they will go to, to worry about the nature of their death.”

“So, they don’t care.” Hope said as she screwed up her nose in distaste.

Death bopped her on the nose with a smile. “I think they have other things to worry about than the things they cannot change.”

Dream rose from his seat as he felt a ripple of power in his domain and you immediately followed, placing yourself beside him so that whatever was on the other side of the door had to go through both of you and Death to get to Hope. It was only the faint pink glow beneath the door and a hint of sweet rose oil in the air that gave away their presence. 

“Desire,” Dream uttered before he opened the door. “You finally decided to join us.”

The illustrious Endless had a smirk painted on their face as they sauntered into the room, their eyes immediately fixing on Hope who was tucked into Death’s side. “Hmm, half Angel, half Endless. I'm curious to see what comes of you, little Miss Hope.”

Your back stiffened with the sense of a threat lurking in those words but everyone else seemed to relax at the odd pleasantries. 

“You’re just in time, have a seat. Will our sister be joining us this evening?” Death asked politely as she pointed to a seat far from Hope which you were grateful for.

A slight wrinkle of their nose was all Desire let show. “Despair finds these familial events…unsettling. She prefers to keep to the company of her mirrors.”

“Dare I ask what changed your mind?” You could see Dream was intrigued but not distrustful of the visit as he asked Desire the question. You on the other hand knew they held the same view as Despair, the twins in spirit that way, so you knew something was amiss for them to visit. 

“Can’t I want to spend some quality time with my siblings and niece?” Desire purred as they reached for a glass of wine on the table. “Of course, I must admit, I do have an ulterior motive.”

“Of course,” Lucienne murmured from where she was quietly reading on the couch by the fire.

“I came to collect my favour,” Desire continued as they stared at Dream’s stormy eyes, “from your Miracle.”

Those golden eyes turned to you, taking delight in the position they put you in. You could feel Dream’s eyes boring into the side of your face, trying to get you to look at him, but you refused to yield to Desire’s challenge. 

“What is your favour?”

Desire broke away first and looked out the stained glass window to see the realm disappearing behind a thick fog of Dream’s making. “I have a bounty on a soul, I need you to collect it.”

“Desire-” Death began to interrupt but they held a hand up to cut her off.

“This is between us,” Desire hissed as they pointed to you. “A favour owed for the spawn at your side.”

Desire was thrown across the room with a blast of power emitted from Dream as he rose to his full height. The deep growl caught you by surprise as Dream stalked towards his sibling who was slowly picking themself up with that deft smirk still taunting. “That is my child, and heir to my Kingdom, you will show her the respect of her title. Blood or not, disrespect will not be tolerated.”

A sensual laugh drifted from those blood red lips and Desire bowed their head mockingly. “Is that a threat, dear brother?”

“It’s a promise.” Morpheus’ face held no warmth as he took a step closer and all life seemed to be sucked from the room and wrapped his pale fingers around their throat. “Now get the hell out of my realm.”

“Not without my favour.” Desire growled as the grip threatened to cut off their oxygen. “It is what I am owed.”

Dream shoved them away and you could feel his disappointment as he refused to look at you. “Name the soul.”

“Narcissus of Thespiae.” Desire said with a rasping voice as they drew fresh air into their lungs. “Deliver him to me and we will be even.”

Dream swiped his hand and Desire disappeared like a wisp of smoke, his back still turned to you. 

“Could you give us a moment alone?” you asked Death and Lucienne who had watched silently, pity seeping from both of them.

“Come with us sweetie, Mervyn makes a great hot chocolate.” Lucienne said to Hope, her intelligent eyes showing she understood more than she should have. “There’s even some marshmallows at my desk.”

The room fell quiet as they closed the door behind them. Dream stood frozen, staring at the carved doors with a stillness that came from withdrawing deep into himself.

“I should have told you,” you whispered, your breath misting as the fire burned out and the room went dark. 

“Yes, you should have.” The voice was that of the King, not the warmth of your lover. It reverberated off the stone surface and resounded in your head as if he were everywhere around you. “It was foolish to make a deal with Desire. Utterly foolish.”

“I know.” You crumbled to your knees, the stone jarring your bones, and prayed for a miracle. “But I don’t regret it. She was worth it, you were worth it.”

What Desire asked of you far more than what you had asked of them, but you hadn’t bargained enough at the time to know the stipulations that needed to be set. You hadn’t given parameters to the favour. It was so very foolish.

To take the soul from Lucifer would be difficult but not impossible, but to take a soul from Hades was practically signing your death warrant. 

Your wings erupted with a gust of wind and Dream cursed as he turned to catch your ankle. “Where the hell do you think you are going?”

He pulled you back and trapped you in his arms, the anger doused with a crashing wave of fear as he held you tight. 

“You’re not leaving me.” His growl caught with a hitch and you felt the tremor down his body. “You are not leaving me.”

“I have to go, this is my favour, I started this.” You struggled against him but he refused to release you as cold, wet droplets fell upon your shoulder. 

“You’re not leaving me, because I am going with you.”

Click here for chapter four.