#I tried really hard to make him look twacked out

[bullet-prooflove]

Kinktober Day 2: Spanking (Rodrigo Sanchez x Reader)

You looked so fucking sinful, on your knees in the centre of Sanchez’s bed, face pressed down into the sheets and that sexy ass of yours up in the air. Your skin was already glowing pink from each one of those fierce smacks he had rained down on those pert cheeks. Your wrists bound behind your back with a black silk tie Sanchez had procured. He’d forced a red ball gag between your lips, stretching them around the sphere, salvia escaping from around the edges of your mouth.

You were soaking wet; moisture glistening in the light from the lamp on the nightstand as your thighs rubbed together, trying to garner some friction.

TWACK!

His hand came down on you again, striking hard and fast. The ball gag muffled the sound of your scream as he shushed you, fingertips gripping the cheek tight enough to leave bruises.

“If you hadn’t mouthed off sweetheart, I wouldn’t have to punish you like this.” He chided you, reminding you of your earlier indiscretion at S.W.A.T. HQ. You knew you were in for it when you saw the expression on his face, but you just had to push all of his buttons.

His fingers drifted between your legs, stroking over your slick folds before he teased around the rim of your needly cavern. He sought out your clit rubbing slow, tenuous circles over that sensitive nub. Ecstasy rushed through your body like a fever, drowning out everything but the sensation of his skilled digits getting you off.

“I would have had you coming all night, on my dick, on my tongue…” He told you, withdrawing his fingers. “Instead, I have to do this.”

TWACK!

The air rushed out of your lungs as he spanked you again, the burst of pain mingling with the sudden pleasure as two of his fingers slipped inside of you. You clenched around him, fucking them for the briefest minute until he withdrew. You whined around the gag, arching your hips in an attempt to reclaim them.

“You’re such a needy little slut.” He murmured.

You heard the bite of his trousers being unzipped. Anticipation coursed through your sensitive skin at the rustle of fabric being drawn down over bare skin.

You’d been at this for hours, Sanchez keeping you hanging on the fucking edge. He’d spanked you within an inch of your life before teasing you all over again with deviant fingers and a wicked tongue.

He lined his cock up with that sweet pussy, the grip on your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he rubbed the head of it across your slick folds. You felt delirious, desperate for him to fill you. He arched his hips just slightly, enough for just the tip to slip inside.

“Fuck yourself with it.”

You tried, you really did but the angle was all wrong and you could only move just enough to fuck the thick head. You grunted in frustration, straining against the bonds but finding no give. You writhed and squirmed and begged through the gag but Sanchez was merciless. He stood perfectly still, watching you fall apart with a wicked smile on his face.

“Not good enough sweetheart.” He tutted, his fingers gripping the space between your wrists where the silk tie bound them. He yanked you back by it, forcing you to take his entire cock in one quick, violent motion.

You let out a cry behind the ball gag. He loved that stifled sound, loved how powerless you were underneath him, how he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. He looked down at that pussy gripping him so tightly he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. His hand smoothed over the redness of your skin, gripping it fiercely before he spanked you again. Your pussy clenched around his dick, tearing a sound from his mouth that sounded feral.

You tried to buck your hips, to fuck yourself on his cock. When he spanked you again you got the message. You were his fuck toy. You would get what only he gave you. You tried to make yourself completely still, tried not to move a muscle but your body betrayed you. Your pussy constricting around his cock.

“You take my cock so fucking well.” He told you, watching the apples of your cheeks flush red.

How the fuck you managed to look so innocent with a ball gag in your mouth and his cock buried deep in you he had no clue. He loved corrupting you, making you his whore, taking you apart piece by piece. You were panting now, thighs trembling, chest heaving.

When Sanchez began to move it was in long punishing strokes, that made your body feel like it was being eaten up by an inferno. He set a brutal pace, hitting that gratifying spot inside of you over and over again until you were sobbing. That furious heat was clambering inside of you, licking at your insides until it consumed you entirely, your synapses exploding like a thousand tiny stars.

He had you at the edge. All it would take was one more thrust, one sweep of his fingertips on your clit. He could tell how badly you wanted it, how much you needed him to give it to you.

You sobbed when he pulled out and it was fucking music to his ears. He gripped his dick in his calloused palm and began to jerk off at the sight of you so desperate for him, so needy. Your pussy still glistening, beckoning for him to finish inside of you. If he did that it would mean the game was over and he wasn’t ready for that, not yet.

He bellowed as he came, painted your ass with streaks of hot white. Heat splattered across your cheeks as that savage sound tore from his throat.

“You look like such a fucking whore.” He told you, milking his cock and smearing it across that sweet fucking pussy. He pushed inside of you just once so he could watch the final drops drip out of your deprived hole.

His eyes flickered up to your face. He knew you were pleading for mercy, but he also knew you relied on his relentlessness. Trusted him to leave you a wrecked mess in his sheets, devoid of all those insidious thoughts that filled your head. This was the only way you could truly let go, to feel like a person again after a day like today.

“Not yet sweetheart.” He told you, his voice almost tender as he watched his cum leak from your pussy. “I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson.”

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “Hunting”

Here is another story requested by a few of you (my lovely readers). Forgive me if I am not entirely accurate on this one. While I grew up where hunting was a thing, I never got around to actually participating, though I wish I would have tried at least once. 

The leaves overhead rattled in a chilled autumn breeze. On Earth, the plants had adapted to the harsh winters, and so shed their leaves going sort of…. Dormant....through the cold season, assuming they had leaves instead of needles, and the forest floor was blanketed with the decomposing remnants bright red and orange on the top layer, and a dark moldering brown on the lower layers.

It was just barely warm enough for Krill to be outside of his enclosure floating softly through the air tethered to one of his human companions who crouched in the leaves. He was very silent predatory eyes facing forward into the trees. When he moved he moved unfathomably silently despite the leaves placing his booted feet on patches of open earth.

Two other humans ranged out to their sides slowly moving through the trees barely visible to krill, who couldn’t make them out against the backdrop of foliage, especially not with the confusing patterned clothing that they wore which broke up their bodies and caused them to blend backwards into the foliage. He only caught a glimpse of them every so often as they moved silently through the trees.

Adam came to a knee on a mossy patch of rock hand braced against the ground. 

Krill shivered as he watched the other humans fall into a similar position. He had always called humans predatory, and science had proven that long ago, but he had never expected to see it in action. Though it may have seemed unbelievable, on their planet, humans were some of the slowest weakest , and arguably the most useless creatures, but mentally there was no foil, and the evidence of that showed in the technology used to aid their hunting ventures. Camouflage to help them be unseen compasses to help them find the way, and the lightweight carbon-fiber contraption gripped lightly in his left hand.

The human crouched on the ground peering through the trees and adjusted the contraption to rest over his knee. It was strange, an oddly shaped length of carbon fiber, aluminum and fiberglass ending in a set of pulleys which secured a fibrous length of cord between the two extreme ends. 

Slowly and with very deliberate movement, the human reached back and drew a long black shaft from an open tube on his back. The back end of the shaft had three foam patches on it two in orange and one in white, and the other end…. Had a flittering set of blades reaching an apex at a single point. The human slowly moved his hand down and set the back end of the shaft against the cord.

The two other humans with him turned and he motioned the one to the left with a wide turn of his hand motioning him to flank around to the side.

Krill watched in great fascination and unease as the hunting human slipped into the brush. Adam stuck a finger in his mouth and held it up to the air “Checking the wind” as he had explained earlier. From the slight drift Krill was getting, he would say there was a slight breeze heading towards them. Adam seemed satisfied and turned to motion his other brother, Jeremy, off to the other side.

David was nowhere to be seen.

Krill hid behind a tree staring around at the strange alien landscape, and the strange human hunters. He really had not wanted to come with them into the hostile landscape even less so when he learned he was going to watch them hunt and kill another creature, but curiosity had gotten the better of him, so he had accompanied the humans as they had made their way into the woods.

 At first, nothing had seemed particularly off about the situation. The three men had walked together talking and laughing, Adam somewhat less than normal considering he was still recovering psychologically after a very hard few months, but still all had seemed well, and then, after a couple hours of aimless wandering, the group of men had stopped on the open side of a ridge peering downwards into a valley with contraptions allowing them to see further.

The moon had changed significantly after that.

It was as if a switch had flipped , and the three men grew very, very quiet. They had slowly fanned out over a distance of twenty yards to either side knees bend slightly shoulders hunched eyes facing forward stalking through the trees with near silent footsteps as their, once strange, clothing began to demonstrate a new purpose as their bodies began to shimmer and vanish, to Krill’s eyes, against the background of trees and dying leaves.

Humans weren’t generally this quiet, and it unsettled Krill as he watched them stalking through the trees.

And then they sait waiting ten minutes turned into twenty twenty became thirty and thirty grew towards an hour of just watching as the humans sat perfectly still and in place unwilling to move a muscle. He had never seen a human hold so still in their life, much less Adam, but there he sat crouched on the ground as a chill wind blew past him through the trees. Out of morbid curiosity, Krill inflated himself a little bit more elevating himself towards the middling branches of the trees. Through the shedding branches he could just make out a clearing up ahead.

It was large and spacious with gently swaying grass fading from a light green to a dusky yellow color, and in that clearing, he could just make out a clump of brown shapes. It was difficult to make out from here, seeing as he did not have the best eyesight…. In comparison to humans, but he animals standing before him were strange beasts, quite large about the height of a human or more…. Some of the larger ones anyway. They had tan to brown coats, and the larger one’s head was crowned with a strange branching of bone.

It was a rather eerie sight. The creature lifted it’s head and sniffed at the air, easily supporting the great branches atop its head points glistening in the dim overcast light of the sky above. Its large ears flickered, and it’s wide, dark eyes scanned the trees about them. Around it, the smaller creatures, without the strange protrusions, lifted their heads as well turning towards the opposite end of the clearing.

Krill wouldn’t have been able to tell the creatures were prey animals if it wasn’t for the lateral positioning of their eyes. To him the beasts were terrifying, especially the large one which would have used it;;s horns to gore him in half if it really wanted.

Surely the humans weren’t after these things.

The large one sniffed the air again and pawed at the ground in agitation. As if on quq, the group of animals began making their way closer towards the hiding humans. A few broke out into a light trot and padded through the tall grass. Their agitation had not yet broken into full blown panic, though it definitely should have.

Krill could see the human now crouching in the bushes eyes locked upon the large thorny creature at the head of the pack. He inched forward taking a knee against the ground. The creature had turned its head facing backwards, but from what Kril Could tell, it’s line of sight would have been blocked by a set of branches just to the front of its face. The human took this opportunity lifting the contraption before his face and drawing the cord back. One hand held out straight forward and the other one drawn back to his cheek thumb delicately brushing against the side of his mouth. The weapon did not quiver. 

The animal lifted its head.

The human let out a slow breath going very still and let go of the cord. There was a loud TWACK! And then a shrill scream as the animal bucked kicked and then fell over writhing in place. Its shrill cries echoed through the valley stirring the rest of the herd into a terrified frenzy, and together they bolted through the trees with the thundering of hooves. 

The three humans converged from the woods breaking cover and no longer attempting to silence their footsteps. One broke from the left one broke from the right, and Adam ran straight up the middle. Krill watched in abject horror as the three humans surrounded the dying animal. The creatures wide dark eyes stared up at the surround predators in fear. David stepped forward drawing back another arrow, from a few paces away, put a shaft through its eye.

The creatures cries were silenced fading slowly into a dying echo as he lowered his bow, and the three humans morphed back into their earlier selves.

“Nice shot.”

“If it was a nice shot, I would have killed it.” Adam retorted. Uneasily KRill lowered himself form the sky staring in fearful fascination at the creature lying dead on the forest floor. The humans had done it, they had just…. Killed it. 

And now they planned on eating it.

Jeremy dropped to one knee handing his bow off to Adam, “Tell your little alien friend he might want to turn away for this part.

Adam turned to look at Krill his single green eye flickering in the dying light of the sun, “We aren’t planning on dragging the entire thing out…… which means we have to gut it.” Krill didn’t need more prompting and turned away. Despite that, he could still hear the sound of rending flesh as the humans tore the creature apart into its component parts. The thought struck him with abject horror, and he wondered how it could be like this. Adam, a usually mild and unaggressive creature capable of stalking, hunting and dismembering something, but a lot fo humans were like that seemingly mild and unaggressive until they weren’t.

“Why dod you do this.” Krill wondered in shock 

David took this one coming around to face Krill wiping his hands on some disinfecting wipes, “Depends, we used to do it for survival, and then we did it for sport, and we’ve always done it to eat because they taste good, but the reason we do it now has to do with population control. Last couple of years some sort of disease has been tearing through the predator population, especially wolves. IN turn the deer population saw a MASSIVE increase. They are having trouble feeding all of them, and grazing habits have caused issue with other species and wildland. Generally nature would take care of the issue, but it's been affecting some families and homes in the nearby area. The government gives out tags to hunters to take down the males to reduce population growth and control. Once the disease dies down, and the predator population goes up, they will be giving out wolf tags.”

Behind him one of the humans laughed, “I know you don't like the idea much Krill, but humans are hunters always have been always will be. The difference now is, we understand the kind of impact we have, and we know how to use what we kill to the best of our ability.”

Adam dusted off his hands.

Krill looked back at them expression unsure trying to ignore the caracc laid at their feet. Looking in their eyes, he didn’t see anything different, no signs of sadistic pleasure or a change for the worst, but perhaps that is what bothered him. The fact that killing something really didn’t change the way they felt, didn’t change anything about them. This was something that they did, and something they had done for thousands of years.

Perhaps he would never understand it.  In comparison to creatures on their planet, he had more in common with the trees than he had in common with animals, so his species would never understand consumption for survival.

But still there was something about the way they moved that day, the way they had circled and sluk through the trees that would always stick with him.

It was a reminder.

A reminder that man had grown up in a harsh world.

A reminder that man was at his core.

A hunter

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 011

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Thank you all for being so patient with my writing. I'm branching back out slowly into my fics and hoping to keep posting them. The aftermath of Evie's attack and some needed love from friends. Billy taps into a darker part of his life to protect her and realizes what she's beginning to mean to him. TW: Abuse, mentions of past student/teacher relationship, Billy's anger. TAGLIST OPEN ! Chat with me if you have time. :)

Chapter 11: My Heart Burns There, Too

   Billy’s knuckles turned pink from the incessant pounding.

   A huff.

   Maybe Evie was standing him up.

   Something pricked his stomach. Told him to keep trying.

   “Evie!” He called. “I know you’re home…”

   Nothing. Behind him, a car had pulled up.

   “Billy?” Heather parked and got out. Fucking pretty boy in her passenger seat. He and Steve still weren’t chummy even after the revenge plot. 

   “What are you doing here, princess?”

   “Was gonna see if Evie wanted to hit the movies with us." Arms crossing, her hip cocked. Priss. "Something to do.”

   “You’re too late, I laid claim to Fenny tonight. She’s going out with me.” Billy knocked again. “Once I get her ass out here… Evie!”

   “Is she?” Heather eyed him closer and approached. “Is she even home?”

   “Think so.” Billy crept around the side of the house to her window. Knocked. Nothing.

   “Way to be a total creep.” Steve remarked, hands shoving into his pockets. Half amused at Billy’s persistence. 

   “I see a lump on her bed through the blinds. Curtain is cracked.” Billy huffed. “Hey, Evie!”

   “Something happened.” Heather’s eyes changed as Billy turned to see her. The expression made his pulse speed. “Evie did this after her dad left. Evie!” She knocked too. “Your friends are here!”

   “Okay, I’m breaking in.” Billy went around front. Felt about the windows with the other two behind him.

   “Whoa, wait a second, aren’t you-?”

   “Harrington, the neighbors here really don’t give a shit. They won’t call the cops for anything.” Billy looked elsewhere as he said that. “Believe me.”

   Steve watched him jiggle a window. 

   “Is it unlocked?” Heather came back up the steps. 

   “Yeah.” Billy yanked it up. Climbed in and shut it, went to open the front door. Steve groaned and followed them inside.

   “Evie.” Billy entered the bedroom. Blue jumped up to come climb his leg. “Even the damn cat is ready for our...date...thing.” He couldn’t think of a better word. One hand plucking the ball of fluff from his hip to push it at a confused Steve.

   Evie still didn't move to get up. Just breathed.

   “What’s going on?" Billy got tender. "Hey.” 

   He came to her first. Evie bundled and hidden upon her bed in the dim light while the sky grew darker. Heather trailed after with Steve in the doorway.

   “Go away.” A muffled croak followed. Heather sighed and sat down. Put her chin on Evie’s shoulder. Felt her friend go stiff.

   “Hey...we’d really like to see you. What happened, Evie? Please talk to me.” She sounded truly afraid. Hands peeled the comforter away. Evie hid herself into the pillow. Arms up to pull her hood further. Curls splayed in tufts of loose frizz

   “Evie, come on,” Billy climbed near her legs, “we’ll go outside if you just want to talk to Heather.”

   “I just wanted him to stop.” Evie’s fingers curled, voice cracking and glazed with tears. “I wanted it to stop. I didn’t mean to be so loud, I was just trying to make it stop.”

   “Wanted what to…?” Heather trailed off when Evie shot up. Hands braced and facing away still. Shaking. “You’re scaring me. Evie.” A gentle hand brought the hood back. Evie smoothed her curls and sniffled harder. Slowly, turned her head while a finger clicked her bedside lamp on. 

   Matching gasps followed.

   “Oh, my god! Who did this to you?” Heather sprang into action but Evie’s head fell to her chest. Arms cradled her. Soothing. “Hey, I got you. We’re here.” Sweet Heather teared up, not knowing what to do as Evie scrambled to cling to her and weep. Waves crashing distantly.

   “I tried to stop it. I did.” Evie crumbled there. Steve, the most confused, ran out and returned with a makeshift ice pack from the freezer. Wrapping it in a rag after dropping Blue on her desk.

   “She needs ice, here.” Steve joined Heather. Smoothed Evie’s hair, but she flinched. “Sorry.” He touched the ice to her right eye. Winced. Helped Heather calm her down because she was gasping at that point, near a panic attack.

   Billy went dead silent. Staring at Evie’s face with a hard, distant expression. Thought he might implode. Teeth crushed and one muscle in his jaw gave a twitch.

   Breathe.

   “Evie.” He pushed out smoother and licked his lips. “Did he do this to you?”

   “Who?” Heather turned. Billy ignored her.

   “Evie. Look at me." The tame order had her eyes shifting, laced in shame. "There you are. Good. Stay right here. You don’t have to speak. Just nod for me. Yes or no?”

   Billy was on his feet the second Evie gave him what he asked for. A single nod. She latched at Heather and cried harder as he went.

   “Where are you going?” Heather craned, but Billy stalked out with his keys in hand. Hard steps. Steve went after him on instinct.

   Evie just wept, out poured all the pent up emotion she bottled.

   “Honey, who did this?” Heather tried again.

   The door slammed.

   “F-Fredrick.” She burst out. 

   “Fr… Our teacher?”

   “I-I’ve been sleeping with him. I was so stupid, Heath. So damn stupid. I thought he loved me. For a while. I tried to stop it. I tried to stop him. He wouldn’t let me just go. I wanted it to stop. I’m sorry.”

   Pieces fell together. Why Evie closed off to her best friend.

   “Don’t be sorry, I got you. Lie down.” Heather just got into the bed with her, shoes kicking off. Let Evie sob into her chest while trying to ice her eye. “I’m here. You're not stupid, I got you.”

   Outside, Billy was getting into his car.

   “Man, what are you doing?” Steve shoved into the passenger side. “Who did that?”

   “Bowers.” Billy started the engine. Seeing all red and contained still. Eyes front. A mission. “Get the fuck out.”

   “Bowers? Our teacher, you mean they…” Steve connected some dots. “Oh, fuck.”

   “Get out of my car.”

   “No, I’m going with you.”

   Billy jerked the vehicle to speed off. Steve buckled himself in.

   “I think I know what street this guy is on, look for the orange Plymouth.” Billy barely stopped at a red light and continued on. Dead set. About to tear this damn town to shreds. Steve watched him grip the wheel. Knuckles paling.

   “What are you going to do?”

   “I’m gonna make him stop.” Billy skidded and saw it. “There you are, fucker.” He rolled up to the house. Steve scrambled to get out and follow him, looking around the empty neighborhood. 

   “Hey, man, you’re not going to…”

   “Just gonna make him stop.” Billy said again. Not really listening. He saw Evie in his mind again. Thought of his mother. Fists clenched before he smashed the doorbell.

   Fredrick cracked it open.

   “Mr. Har-” Two hands shoved forward into the house. Billy was noticeably shorter than Bowers, but the way he grabbed his already torn shirt and shoved him into the floor distracted from that.

   A punch sweltered. Burst knuckles red. Billy was hellbent. Ready to combust into flames. Steve turned and shut the door behind them.

   “Ack! What’s this about?” Fredrick slapped a hand to his nose. "Get out!"

   “You beat the shit out of her.” Billy stood over him. Dangerous.

   “I have no idea-”

   “I already know about you. She didn’t tell me either. Figured it out on my own, man, you’re not slick. You think those other burnouts you’re teaching won’t notice, too?” Billy crept up with determined steps. “Are you fucking any other kids?”

   “I-”

   “Yes or no!” Billy roared in his face. Steve stepped up behind him with huge eyes. Only able to watch. Fredrick about shit himself.

   “No...no.” He swallowed. “Are you…?”

   “Not gonna tell anyone. You and I, we’re going to forget this ever happened.” Billy undid his belt. Not even here anymore. “You’re going to learn a lesson, teach. Respect. Responsibility."

   "If you leave now-"

   "You take any pictures or videos of her? Tell me or I’ll tear this place apart finding them.”

   “N-No...never. She wouldn’t let me.”

   “You sick piece of shit.” It was Steve who voiced that before Billy could, although he looked nauseous.

   The belt slid out of its loops. Fredrick glowered at him. Clearly fearful. Not getting up.

   “You’re going to forget, Evangeline Fenny. Hear me? You’re going to pack up tonight and get the fuck out of town. Transfer. Don’t crawl back to your fucking wife. You’re going to hole yourself up and live your life and you’re not going to fuck anymore kids. Nod.”

   Slowly, Bowers obeyed.

   Billy looped the belt. Slashed it through the air. An ugly twack into Bower’s eye cracked. Steve wondered about stopping him, but didn’t. Barely flinched when he watched it happen. Billy snarled and hit the older man until he turned over to avoid it. Blood bursting from his nose still. Cowering like a bitch.

   “You’re not gonna see her!” Billy raged and descended down. Brutal slaps like the ones Neil dealt him and his mother. “You’re not gonna think about her! You’re not gonna touch her! Ever again! Fucking disappear!” 

   Billy kicked Bower’s in the ribs. Left him there gasping.

   “Okay, okay! Just don’t...ngh…please.” He whimpered. Billy, still baring his teeth, paused. Hit him a final time with the metal end. Vibrated so hard. Saw Neil there cowering when he blinked. Saw Neil also in the reflection of a fallen mirror that cracked.

   “Pack up tonight. Don’t make me do this again. No, goodbye. No, nothing. Just fuck off and never come back or I’ll fucking kill you. Hear me? I’ll kill you for what you did to her! She's dead and she's not coming back because of you!”

   His voice cracked. So hot, he might breathe smoke. Eyes watering.

   Steve was in front of Billy now, pushing him back into the door. Soothing.

   “Hey, man. We gotta go. He got the message. Let’s go…” Steve caught Billy's face and realized the boy was crying.

   “Don’t let me catch you in this town again.” Billy spat all the way out, skidding and intent on Bowers' beaten frame. Steve started yanking him back to the car.

   "Hey, Billy, I-"

   "Please." Billy sniffled to get a hold of himself. "Please, don't." Steve looked at him and did the only kindness Billy would allow. He peered aside to let the boy wipe his eyes.

   They nearly hit the mailbox screeching out. Back to Evie’s where they found Heather in the kitchen brewing some jasmine tea.

   “She told me everything.” Heather looked like she’d been crying too. Eyes fell to Billy’s knuckles as he did his belt again. “Can you go sit with her a bit? First aid kit is on the bed. She won’t let me…”

   Billy passed and Steve went into the kitchen. Evie sat at her desk now. Battered. Hoodie on the floor. Eyes unblinking and dry. Expressionless. A needle felting project in hand. Deftly stabbing a mass of grey wool into a shape. Billy stole a chair and got close, sat in it backwards and opened the kit on her desk.

   “You gonna let me take you to the hospital?”

   “No.”

   One exhale out his nose showed he didn’t approve. Doctors prodding was the last thing Evie needed. Especially with her eating habits.

   "You feel dizzy?"

   "No."

   “Let’s get you cleaned up, then. Don’t mean to brag, but I know my way around a first aid fit.”

   Evie kept stabbing. Coolly. Eyes flicked to his knuckles. Burnt red from the few punches he tossed between swipes of the belt. 

   She missed her project and pricked her thumb. Cringed to hiss before Billy snatched her hand. Pressed a cotton ball to let the bead of blood dry.

   Brown eyes lifted to his face. Almost dewy and angelic. No rage left while he brought her finger up to kiss the pad a few times. Lashes batting and fanned thick. So beautiful. Billy panned to focus on her now looking at him.

   He went through the kit and reached for her chin. Tilted Evie so he could clean up the dried blood on her brow and lip. She just watched Billy squint and study her in turn.

   “He’s not going to be a problem anymore.” Came a distant sigh. Something he never got to say to his mother. “You’re safe now.” Billy ruffled her curls. Felt gingerly for more damage. A small knot on the back of her skull. 

   “Can I have another ice pack?” Evie asked at last. She lifted her shirt to flash some nasty bruising on her ribs. Unashamed of her stomach that wasn’t flat. Billy got up to retrieve some at the same time Heather brought the tea in. 

   “Can we stay over tonight with you?” She sat down. “Steve and I can make a food run. Pick up lots of ice cream and just watch some TV together.” Fingers tucked a couple dark curls aside.

   “I’d like that.” Evie beamed a little. “I’m sorry.”

   “Why?” 

   “I didn’t tell you about him.”

   “You were scared. I get it. I’m not mad. You don’t have to hide things. Don't worry about it right now.” Heather swept down to embrace her friend. Evie peered at Steve and smiled. 

   “Bring it in, Steve.” She gestured so he gave them both a bear hug. “Thanks, guys.”

   “You gonna be okay for a bit with Billy?” Heather pulled out so Evie just nodded. Shoulders dropping as they left. Billy moved around them and came to offer the ice pack. She hissed, pressing it down with her project in the other hand.

   "I made Bourbon's face from felt a couple years ago. Figured I'd make one for Blue, too." She set it aside and avoided his stare for a moment. "They look worse than they are."

   "Liar." He said. "I'd know."

   Evie licked her lips. Frowned at the table.

   “Hey.” Billy spoke and Evie only sighed, eyes lifting to his fatigued expression.

   “Hi.”

   “Name’s Billy. Just moved here from Cali.” He continued, eyes rolling when she looked confused. “What I should have said when we met.”

   “Ah. Name’s Evangeline. Evie for short. Welcome to Indiana.” She sat back.

   “Evangeline.” He sounded out, smirking. “Is that a poem?”

   “Oh, yeah, a totally depressing one.” Evie chuckled there, wincing noticeably. Billy crossed his arms on her desk. Leaned forward.

   “Shame. That's a nice New Orleans twang you have.”

   She tried hard not to smile at that. One cheek sucked in.

   "Don't know what you mean."

   They studied each other again. Cheap colored lights around her room gave it a too pretty glow.

   “So, do you want to go out?” She asked out of the blue. Billy gaped a little. Processed what she said. Even got up to look around. “What?”

   “Just making sure you’re talking to me.” Billy peered outside. Sat down again to point at his chest. “You hit your head a little too hard or something?”

   “I bought a new shirt for you."

   "That sounds serious, Evie." He earned a push for that. Licked his lips to smile brighter.

   "And I just figured we could hang out later. While I don’t...look like this.” Evie tucked some hair aside.

   “You’re still…” Billy trailed off. Pretty. She blushed under all the discoloring. Tone shifting.

   “Did you hurt him bad?”

   “He can still walk.” A beat. “He’s gonna leave you alone. I made him stop. Hear me?” Billy had to keep saying it. He saved her. He stopped the monster. Evie welled at him. Actually touched his hand to squeeze it.

   “Can...Can you guys...maybe not leave me alone this week?” Evie plucked up some wool to twist it around. It wasn’t just Fredrick. She didn’t feel safe with her thoughts and all these sharp objects either.

   “Have I left you alone since New Years, Evie?” Billy cracked a grin that illuminated her expression. 

   “True.” She rubbed her head. In obvious pain.

   Billy got up again to go. Shifted through a medicine cabinet. Pills, liquid meds, vitamins, and more first aid necessities.

   A plastic container caught his eye. Full of push pins with red plastic toppers. Like cherry candies. Something that should’ve been in an office desk, not a teen’s bathroom. Strange.

   Billy pushed it aside. Filled a glass with water and plucked up some pills.

   “Hey, you should take something. Your head will thank you. Drink all the water.” He clicked the glass down. Eyes passed Evie to see the closer bookcase. Full of trinkets. Sparkling rocks and gemstones. Broken pieces of ceramic dancers from odd collectables. Pointing things. Keys. Neatly organized and lined up. 

   “Heather’s getting food, but I might...put my head down.” She drank and swallowed two pills. Scooped up Blue while she pawed at her ankle. Billy edged to leave. “Hey, you...” He came to full attention, turning. “You don’t have to leave…”

   Billy was in front of her lightning quick. Evie didn’t flinch when their eyes locked together. 

   “Yeah?”

   “I want you to stay.” Came the admission. Unafraid of him and his steel knuckles beginning to rust. Evie just stared without cringing. 

   Not even as his fingers trailed up her jawline. Gingerly over a bruise there. His thumb drew a gentle circle next to it. Such a contrast to Billy. So natural too.

   Evie let him observe her wounds. Finger pad tracing that swollen mouth to tip her chin. Lips touched her brow. A moon crescent trail of soft kisses. He pecked her jaw next. Then, found her lips for a vaguely rustic kiss.

   She tilted to open a little. Deepened in without regret. Fingers combed her messy curls back before he leaned out. Bright eyes glinting.

   “Our worst kiss yet.” Evie mused, Blue clutched to her torso.

   “Oh, yeah. Terrible.” He hitched, entertained. Evie searched him and let Blue crawl over her bed.

   “Gonna change into something comfier.” She waited until Billy gave her a moment. Evie pulled on a sports bra and color block print shirt with long sleeves that went almost to her knees. Fluffy blue socks were a must. She drank more water and poked her head out. “Coming?”

   Billy didn’t need to be told twice.

   “I’ll stay up. Wait for the others to get home.” He yawned as Evie got into bed. Fiddling with her sleeves.

   “Can you lie down with me for a bit? Just until I fall asleep. No pressure.” She perked when he unbuttoned his shirt. Kicked jeans aside and stood there in a white tank and briefs. Stunning without really trying. The metallic chain around his neck caught the moonlight before she shut the lamp off.

   “Scoot.” Billy slid in next to her. Blue wandered and got comfortable on a pillow above them. Evie had no qualms nestling into him. Tucking into his side where she felt safe between him and the wall. 

   Billy’s body warmed her instantly. The cologne and wash spirited her into a dream. Evie settled her head on his chest and shifted one loose arm over his hard frame. Flush with curves that fit into him perfectly.

   He tried to reason she was just scared and drained. Fingertips danced up her spine as Billy stared at the ceiling. Evie touched his wrist and got a better look at his knuckles. Kissed them better. Felt Billy’s chest sink and still.

   “Thank you...” Evie closed her eyes.

   No reply followed. Same as the night before, she let herself tumble and fall. Less shame this hour. Billy sniffled and exhaled. Tried to stay awake while Evie’s breath evened out.

   Heather found them upon returning. Pushed the door back to see Billy’s head tilted aside. Snoring. Evie burrowed into his torso with one arm draped over him. Steve smiled a little, eyes rolling.

   “Unbelievable.”

   “Let’s get this stuff in the fridge and set up camp in the living room.” Heather hushed him, closing the door to let them rest. 

   The hours rolled until Billy roused to some rustling at six in the morning.

   Bleary eyes cracked to an auroral outline. Evie perched on the floor at the end of the bed with the desk lamp pulled over. Couple notebooks spread out as she marked down some words and mimed them on her guitar. Mouthing to herself, barely making sound. Blue teetered across the papers to wriggle into her lap. Frizzy curls half piled atop her crown.

   Blue eyes trailed over the back of her bare neck. Thought about pushing his lips there and chided himself. Billy shifted and her head snapped. Quick hands set the guitar aside, back in its stand.

   “Sorry. I found a chorus at five and had to write it down before I…” She scribbled her lyrics and smacked a notebook shut. Billy rubbed his stomach and yawned. Heard her say something that stuck with him. “Sometimes I think I write songs like I don’t have any time left.”

   “Don’t stop on my account.” He paused as Evie rose. The lamp in her grip like an old candle. Bathing her face. Violet kisses around her poor reddened eye. Evie thought of a flickering candle stick too and how wax would look dripping down against his illuminated, marble skin.

   Noticing him staring, Evie clicked the light off and set it aside.

   For a moment, she stood there in the dark fiddling with her sleeves. Fingers pulled a scrunchie out and tossed it on the desk. Billy reclined to stare at the ceiling. 

   “It’s your bed.” He quipped so she crossed and crawled up between him and the wall again. Evie got very still and faced away.

   “One hour. The most lyrics I’ve sat down and punched out in...feels like months. It was always hard to get words out when I was dwelling on Fredrick. So much for fucking an English teacher. He liked it as a hobby and nothing more…”

   “He’s an asshole.”

   “He wasn’t always. Not to me. Maybe that’s twisted. He did help me...he did. Even if that was him trying to feed his own ego.”

   “Shouldn’t do this. Trip down memory lane will only sting.” Billy exhaled. “You might even like it.”

   Evie decided to hurt.

   “Sometimes I’d wrap my arms around him in the shower and sing little songs in his ear. He loved that shit.” Evie turned over to see Billy already looking in her direction. Barely there ounces of blue light glimmered from outside. “He gave me such lovely kisses. We used to joke a lot, back when it was fun. Dancing and wrestling around.”

   “You’re better off."

   “I know that, I wished I believed it though. In full. I don't love him. I know that. But, it's still hard not to feel something. I don't think he had a very good childhood and missed out on it."

   "Taking yours is no excuse." Billy got hard about that.

   "It’s not fair. To still…feel any kind of way about a person who hurts you. You can’t just turn it off and that’s…” Evie sniffed and sucked her cheeks in. “I don’t know how to live with that.”

   “You just do.” Billy rubbed his eyes with one hand. Drowsy and alert with her next to him. Both of them entombed in sweet amber.

   “He used to bring me gifts. Little things like what I collected. The antique looking brooches he found were my favorite. These little inklings that reminded me I was thought of. Desired. He bought me lacy things too. I still have Fredrick in a little box hidden in my top drawer. My gift wrapped naughty secret I used to love.” Evie scoffed at herself. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”

   “Clearly have words.” Billy sounded out in the dark. Seeming too wise for his youthful beauty. Gold curls slipping over silky pillows. Lashes batting as he turned to see the shine of her eyes. Evie settled in and gripped her own pillow, sighing out.

   “It was so innocent when it started. It really was. I don’t think he picked me, not until much later. Not until I was already his. He didn’t act on these...urges. Maybe I pushed him.” Her lip quivered.

   "You didn't."

   “We had these lingering after school talks that started to last the hour. One day there was an awful storm and I only had my bike. We both were soaked and he just smiled. He felt bad for keeping me. I remember the crack of thunder because it sent me into his arms. He only hugged me and I needed it so bad because sometimes you just need to be held.”

   Billy just listened well.

   “I don’t know why it does that to me. Scares me like I think I might die, I’m willing to brave bigger monsters to get away from it. Fredrick offered me a ride and we got into the car sopping wet. Dripping all down my lips and chin. He turned on the engine and...had this funny look, you know, like he knew I wasn’t supposed to be there with the rain dripping from my hair and cheeks.”

   “You weren’t.”

   “And he looked so beautiful. Never seen his hair a mess. I smiled. And he smiled. We laughed at it because we both felt it. And then he kissed me... Afterward, I asked him to fuck me and he said, no. Just drove me home.”

   Blue eyes studied Evie too close.

   “I started crying softly like a little baby. Asking what I did wrong...asking why he had to go and kiss me in the first place. God, it was so embarrassing. I was mortified.” Evie huffed to herself. “We didn’t look at each other for a week after that. I skipped his class because I was so upset and he found me in the library after school..."

   She paused to exhale.

   "...He couldn’t say anything like suddenly he was the nervous one. Just dropped a note down and practically raced for the hills. Named a motel, date, and time. And I showed up... He seemed surprised I did.”

   “And he…?”

   “No, we drove a ways away to some bar that didn’t card. Had a beer in this messy roadhouse. Got tipsy and I laughed at something silly and touched his knee. Fredrick said I made him hard and then when I didn’t believe it, he took my hand and pressed it… Fuck, I never wanted anyone that bad, you know? It was like no one thought about sex as much as I did.”

   “That’s just being a teen, Angel.” Billy's lip twitched and she nodded.

   “Yeah. We fell asleep holding each other. Didn’t have sex until the next week at his place. We had fun together and he used to read me to sleep every night we spent. Fredrick nurtured me and he fucked me so good. Being with him, I wanted the sun to stay up all day for the first time...and when it went down, I wasn’t afraid.”

   Her final sentiments shook his core apart.

   “And there was no other man to compete with him.” Evie said. “I was never going to win.”

   “I wanted to kill him, you know?” Billy trembled, fingers twisting the fabric of his shirt around. “Looked at him and saw my dad there and I thought… I felt powerful after. I would go back and finish the job right now if I could, Evie, I felt so fucking great while he cried. I wonder if that’s how my dad feels when he…”

   “You’re not Neil.”

   “No, but I might be worse. Didn't stop my dad, I just became him to cope. To understand it and I still...fuck, I still don't.”

   “I don’t think you’re worse.” 

   “You don’t know that, Evie.” Billy tried to be mean when he said it. Left her undaunted.

   “I do know you. Well enough now.” Evie let herself touch him. Billy shuddered when her fingers shifted over his tense fist.

   “I didn’t push you around cause I liked you. Guys don’t really do that. I hated you, Evie." He welled at her, eyes locking. "Just cause you saw things. Cause you’re strange. Cause you have a mother.”

   “I hated you, too.” She offered that lovely as can be. Billy sniffled and flashed a smile in the dark with watery eyes. Laid there staring into space as she studied him.

   "You wanna sing me something?" He'd asked in a strange tone. This inkling of reluctance.

   "Now?"

   "Yeah, something soft so we don't wake the house," Billy explained with the same hesitant armor over his flesh, "like a lullaby."

   "What do you want to hear?"

   "What's that song you're always humming in school?"

   "Oh, the Irma Thomas one." Evie swallowed to breathe and tucked into him, arms pulled to her chest. "You get a single verse."

   "That's enough," Billy turned to see her blush, "for now, Evangeline."

   "It's weird with you so close."

   "I'll shut my eyes." He let his lashes flutter. "You can just sing me to sleep." A beat of Evie shifting into him. Searching. She came up on her elbows and Billy stretched his arm out for her.

   "I know..." She took a moment to find her voice again. Smoothed it back out to silk. "I know to ever let you go. Oh, it's more than I could ever stand..."

   Billy's breath hitched when she lowered back into him. Head on his shoulder. Rich and gentle near his ear. Singing too sweetly, he vibrated.

   "Oh, but anyone," Evie touched his face to tuck some locks of hair aside, "who knows what love is..."

   She never finished. Billy kept his eyes shut. Stayed there reclined looking like Eros himself. Angelic and too beautiful to be apart of this world. Nestled on a pair of ethereal, feather wings. She imagined being Psyche and lying with him. Those glowy wings curling around them both for shelter.

   Evie pushed up further and caught Billy by surprise kissing him. Just a tender peck upon the cheek. Another at the corner of his lips. Blue eyes opened too late. The bliss of her moved away when his hand came up then dropped. Deciding not to push it.

   "How'd I do?"

   Billy could have said a number of things.

   About how her voice fills the edges around him and he's not afraid to succumb for the first time. About how she makes him feel things he hasn't in a long while. About how she's a swell of magnificent fire in this winter. About how being with Evie reminds him how much people can mean to each other. Even if it makes him upset, remembering; because it's so raw. He's willing to touch it again because of her glimmer.

   About how he wants to be a better version of himself and help Evie see herself as he does. About how she's burning and molten and neon and painted and free when she sings. And beautiful. And he wants more bad kisses. More of her. About how she's so much and she's absolutely enough and she deserves to feel that. To be still and burn with soft embers for once while the moon and stars twinkle kindly for her. About how there's a fire hiding behind her heart emitting a lovely glow that only he can see.

   About how his heart burns there, too.

   But, Billy turned to see Evie's glittering eyes and replied delicately.

   "Fine." He said, chest shuddering because it wasn't enough to capture her spark. Evie only beamed. Like maybe she felt the warmth of his flames even still.

   No more words could be spoken. Evie settled back into him and tried to resume her slumber. They felt Blue pawing to climb up and make her usual perch on the pillows. Billy stayed stiff as a board to allow her to fall. Felt the warmth on his face where her lips grazed. 

   That red hot kiss rocked him back under the water.

~~~~~~~~~

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[fairiesherefairiesthere]

Of gods, demons and the longevity of true love.

My entry for the last day of fraxusweek hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus !!!

Prompt: Tarot/Legends and Mythology

"What are those things still doing around here?" Laxus asks brazenly, watching a few demons scurry away with disdain clear in his eyes. His grandfather, ever the spineless pacifist twacks his kneecaps with his walking stick before answering. "You young insolent fool. They are an integral part of our society."

Before the old man can continue his explanation, Laxus scoffs. "Are they though?" he asks, not willing to hear a possible answer. "I fought with that lightning demon earlier and his power is laughable. I could've killed him and taken over his domain and the world would've kept on turning. They're evil beings without a purpose, you should've just got rid of them a long time ago."

Rest of the fic under the cut!

"Laxus." His grandfather's voice has taken on that specific kind of tone that suggests that he's more than displeased at his opinion, but Laxus can't bring himself to care. In a world of gods, demons and humans, are the demons really needed? Didn't his grandfather wage a war on them because they kept corrupting humans? His grandfather is a contradicting fool, really.

"What. All they're good for is corruption, right? We can live without that."

"Is that truly what you think?" his grandfather asks and Laxus snorts in response. "Have you raised me to think otherwise?" When he gets no immediate answer, he rolls his eyes and turns to leave. "Laxus wait", his grandfathers gently orders him and gestures for him to sit down next to him. He doesn't do that, unwilling to give the old man that much, but he does halt his stride and turn around.

"I used to think like that", his grandfather confesses as though it's a surprise, as though that sentiment isn't alive and thriving. "But I changed my mind after I experienced their so-called corruption myself. It's not what you think it is and I implore you to do the same thing before saying such callous things." He pauses as though the silence would fortify his statement. "You're full of shit", Laxus answers pointedly, having heard enough. He doesn't bid his grandfather goodbye as he leaves. That day, it storms and lightning wreaks havoc upon the unsuspecting townspeople.

The next day, he has the pleasure to explain the reasons behind his little lightning spectacle to the goddess of script, words, letters, alphabets yada yada, he isn't that interested. He also doesn't get why she's so insistent on writing everything down, keeping logs of all godly activity. It's annoying. She keeps blabbering about immortalising the gods through words, but doesn't their innate immortality defy that? Interrupting her spiel about the importance of script, he asks her a question that's been weighing on his mind.

"Tiny," ignoring the indignant squeak escaping her he continues, "You're smart right? What's your opinion on demons?" Immediately, the shift in the mood becomes palpable. With a nervous chuckle, she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ears. "Well...", she starts and coughs akwardly. "That's quite the loaded question, isn't it?"

He gets her unease. The war between demons and gods had started eons ago and had only come to a sudden stop recently. Outwardly, the gods all seemed to have become all fine and dandy with demons being allowed to interact with them and humans, but they both know the that isn't the truth. The message of 'demons are totes a-okay!' is so recent and none of them truly believe it. But not a single person can go against Makarov's wishes, so they take part in the façade.

Seeing her discomfort, he inwardly sighs. Although he won't deny that he's an asshole, it takes a whole different kind of asshole to force an answer out of petite Levy who looks like she could be snapped in half by him. Furthermore, she'd have to put this conversation in her records and probably have another moral breakdown. "Never mind it squirt, you keep doing your thing", he says and ruffles her hair while she bravely tries to fend him off. She still ends up with a bird's nest though.

Realising that no one's going to share their opinions of the other camp, he decides to take the easy way out. Instead, he decides to march straight into the other camp. If you want to know something, the best way is to get it directly from the source, right?

Apparently, it isn't. Little demon children (it's disturbing how innocence and something vile can coexist like that) quickly hide behind their mother's skirt as he walks between them. Conversations fall silent and only slowly pick up again when they think he's out of earshot. He's always taken pride in his grand stature, but right now it feels horribly out of place and he wonders if there's anything he can do to make himself look smaller, to not frighten these people as much.

The obvious discomfort his presence brings isn't worth it to him. Sure, he could keep forcing himself into their space, but he'd garner no positive results. He's quite sure he wouldn't even garner any results at all, since no one wanted to approach him. Realising this, he turns around to go back to the palace.

His grandfather finds him sitting on the edge of an open window, mulling over his thoughts and wondering how to change his approach. Those things seemed to be scared, something that doesn't add up in Laxus' head. Were they not the ones who turned humans against gods? Were they not the enemy? Were they shoving the most innocent of them to the forefront so that, upon entering their domain, outsiders would see them as guiltless beings?

"If you keep that, you'll damage whatever brains you have left", his grandfather teases him as he comes to stand next to Laxus. Rolling his eyes, he merely grunts at his grandfather in return. "What's got you thinking so hard my boy?" he asks and for a moment, Laxus closes his eyes and lets the warmth of his grandfather's voice trickle over him. For the briefest of moments, it's nice to pretend he's still a newly made god who thinks he knows how everything works.

"I went to visit those things-"

"At least call them people", his grandfather interrupts him and with a sigh, Laxus does so and continues. "I visited them", he says, eyes full of challenge, but his grandfather merely nods encouragingly. "I still can't see why you keep them around. They're more trouble than they're worth."

"I figured that you'd say that, so I arranged for a very special meeting. Do you want to meet the demon that changed my mind and made me spare their whole kind in the midst of a battle?" Because it seems like the only option left to satisfy his curiosity, Laxus agrees. While they walk through the castle in search of him, his grandfather explains who the demon in question is. Apparently, he could be seen as Levy's demon counterpart when comparing the domains they rule over. Laxus wonders what kind of words the demon must've pulled out of his ass to convince his grandfather to not kill them all.

After listening to his grandfather's long and winded character introduction, Laxus had expected a meeting with an old, gray man who constantly spouted unwanted advice like a fountain of fortune cookies. A single look at the young man before him proves him completely wrong.

He's definitely not old, in fact, his youthful face seems to suggest that he's younger than Laxus himself. There's a hint of muted curiosity there, suppressed childlike wonder that Laxus himself feels too. Because Laxus is focusing on the other man's looks that much, he quickly comes to the realisation that the man in front of him is devastatingly handsome. As soon as the realisation hits him, he colours a bright red and redirects his gaze to the very interesting tips of his shoes.

A deep chuckle makes his gaze snap back to the other man who gives him an amused halfsmirk. It's terribly attractive. Clearing his throat, his grandfather gestures to the man. "Laxus, meet the demon who rules over the scripts, speaks all tongues-"

"Freed", the man interrupts and offers Laxus his hand. Awkwardly Laxus accepts it while his grandfather frowns. "What are you freed from?" Laxus asks and immediately, his grandfather groans. The gorgeous man in front of him simply laughs, pretty lights dancing in his visible eye. "Freed is my name", he clarifies and Laxus wishes he was the god of being able to be swallowed by floors.

"What brings you here?", he asks Laxus. Not wanting to be ignored, his grandfather steps in. "Laxus wanted to know what demons were worth and I believe you would be the perfect person to show him that."

With a cool smile, Freed turns to his grandfather. "Well then Makarov, you thought wrong. Good day, gentlemen." Then he turns on his heel and departs, leaving both of them stunned. After a while, Makarov coughs. "I'm sure you're smart to figure it out yourself", he encourages Laxus before swiftly taking his exit as well.

Pissed off, Laxus spends the rest of the day making up less than savoury nicknames for Freed. Annoyed that the list of quite creative insults isn't helping him reach his goal any faster, he decides that he can't let this chance escape. Determined to know why demons are still allowed to exist, he hunts the man down. Laxus Dreyar is many things, but a quitter isn't one of them.

Maybe asking "Why are you still allowed to live?" isn't the most polite of questions to start with. Maybe, one shouldn't ever utter those words at all. But Laxus has a mouth that runs quicker than his brain and so, he has wedged himself between a rock and a hard place.

"Why not?" Freed shoots back, not unfriendly per se but there's an edge in his voice, ready to cut at any moment. "Tell me, why must I die?"

It's a question so direct that Laxus fumbles before answering. "You lot are corrupting humans, giving them things they aren't supposed to have. You're crossing boundaries you aren't supposed to cross." It's an adequate enough answer, it's something he's been told all his life.

"Who set those boundaries then?" Freed asks before shaking his head with a little laugh. "And giving humans things? Oh no, we're tricksters my dear, we don't give anyone anything. Surely we might inspire, but we do not give. Every choice one of those little ones down below makes, is one of their own. Don't underestimate the human will. Now please excuse me, I'm done talking for today."

"Wait", Laxus says and grabs the other man's arm, intending to halt his stride. With a brusque movement Freed breaks free and when Laxus catches a glimpse of his eyes, he thinks he's come a lot of steps closer to knowing what the flaming pits of hell look like. That fiery expression is quickly schooled back into careful neutrality as Freed opens his mouth to fire off a snappy remark.

"You're a funny lot, you gods. It's your way or none at all, isn't it? Why? Your hubris knows no bounds." After that, the man's gone before Laxus can ask him to stay.

The following day, Laxus seeks him out again and finds Freed sitting on the edge of an ornate fountain, bared feet dipping into the water as gods stand by and whisper from a distance. "Can I talk to you?" he politely asks and is met with an uncompromising "No".

"I just wanted to apologize", he mumbles and Freed gives him a flat look before disappearing again. Wondering what he did wrong, he spends the rest of his day at the fountain, feet splashing in the water as though he was still a child.

The next day, he once again seeks out Freed, asking if it were an appropriate moment to talk and once more, Freed tells him no. This time Laxus gives him a steady nod before leaving himself. Forcing the other man to talk to him would never work and honestly, Laxus doesn't want to force a relationship with anyone. Should Freed ever want to talk to him, he'd have no problem finding him.

For a few days he doesn't even see Freed until one day, the man pops up on his windowsill, perching on there like a cat basking in the sun. He's gorgeous, Laxus realises once more, with his hair losely draped over a shoulder and dark wings and horns reflecting the sunlight with a gentle shimmer. He's alluring, pulchritudinous. Laxus frowns. That last one is definitely not a word that was in his vocabulary before.

"Am I inspiring you yet?" Freed asks with a wicked grin, sinfully stretching himself on the windowsill. "Are my devilish charms working?" he adds and Laxus nods, a bit stupefied. "Now, you've been meaning to ask me something, right? You want to know why my species and I are allowed to live, why your grandfather decided to spare me on the battlefield."

Another nod. "My grandfather said he decided to spare you after he witnessed your 'corruption' himself. I want to know what words you said, you demon of words, letters, -"

"I said nothing at all", Freed interrupts him softly. "I didn't say a thing as he held me against the ground, knife in one hand with the other one on my throat. I merely cried because I was scared, I wholeheartedly believed I was going to die. My tears hit his hand and in that moment, the god who created all gods looked human."

Sensing the disbelief in Laxus, Freed only shrugs. "I think it's the first time he saw emotions that he hadn't created. You lot were made by him, every god carved to perfection by his hand. Every tear you've shed, every laugh you've laughed, they were implanted in you by him. We demons tempt you to let go of that prefabricated self, to explore your own self. Becoming your own person separated from Makarov's making comes at the price of immortality and thus, humans were born. Gods who were such no more."

With a whistful sigh, Freed shakes his head. "But parents get mad once you escape their tutelage and to protect their children, they will eliminate that which forms a threat to their children. And so the war began and for every child lost, a new one was made on your side. We demons have no almighty creator, we are born from stray magic of mother nature herself. We happen to be. So during one of those battles, I happened to be there and I think the confrontation with genuine emotion made him realise that he was not destroying something of his own making that he could simply rebuild. Just like humans, when we do die, we return to the earth."

It's a bit of a heavy pill to swallow. With an uncomfortable laugh, Laxus rubs the back of his head. "Guess you're not too big of a fan of my grandpa then?" Freed gives him a chuckle in return.

"Definitely no. And also, a bit yes. I just think he's been lonely for a long time and thus, has become very protective over his company. I think he's making strides in the right direction, but he's not unifying anyone. He still expects you all to just follow his wishes, well-intended as they are. But you all have come in contact with us, haven't you? You're not completely his anymore, so you are unable to blindly follow. He should educate you instead of ordering you, but that's just my two cents."

"I'm starting to get it", Laxus carefully says as he mulls over Freed's explanation. "You're allowed to live because nature made you with specific purposes outside my grandfather's realm of ruling. Freed laughs at his scrunched up pensive face and boops his nose.

"We're not even at my true point yet dear. Here's my gripe, my core issue if you want: must have something have a purpose or reason to exist at all? I have already mentioned it, but we demons happen to be and so are humans in a certain way. There's no reason or purpose behind our existance, we are not fabricated with definite goal. You gods were and I think that defines a lot of your thinking. But at our core, isn't simply being enough? Doesn't being give you more freedom to do something, anything than a prefabricated destiny? One should not have a purpose to be allowed to live, but finding purposes in life is what makes it worth living. But even that you, who are immortal, can not grasp. It's a bit pitiful isn't it, a god's existance?" With that and a kiss on the cheek, Freed leaves him to stew in his thoughts.

Once he's talked more about it with Freed over the span over a longer time, the clearer the division becomes between gods, demons and humans. Seeing the obvious divide, Laxus turns to his grandfather with his thoughts and ideas for a unification. Obviously, the old man has difficulties with being confronted by his own mistakes like that, but at least he attempts to do better.

The progress is slow and every once in a while there's a major setback that throws a wrench in the relationship between the demons and the gods. But steadily, over eons, the undercurrent of vicious hatred disappears and it's at that moment that a different union happens. Laxus can't think of a life without this clever, misschievous man at his side and the affections are returned. Their marriage is something that brings the relation between demons and gods to a higher level, evens the playing ground even more.

Whether their opnions be good or not, every god has one on the union. "It really strenghtens their critical thinking, doesn't it?" Freed jokes as he reads one of the letters totally decimating him. "They're absolutely nae nae'ing me."

They exchange a few meaningful glances and Freed breaks the silence first with a sigh. "Every day we stray further from Makarov's light. Everyone has something to say nowadays." He gives Laxus a thoughtful look. "You know what this means, right?"

"Our immortality fades. We become humans."

Freed gives him a hum, confirming his speculations. "Gramps will become lonely again then", Laxus realises and with a heavy heart, he knows he doesn't want that to happen.

"I don't think he'll be around for that long", Freed confesses and presses a kiss to the corner of Laxus' lips to ease the lines of worry there. "Fear not for him my love, he is old and his children have grown up. He has found a purpose that brought him joy and now that purpose has reached it's peak. His life is a fulfilled one, prepare to let him go."

And let go of him they do, eventually. It leaves the gods without power, devoid of immortality but with a new sense of peace. "A parting gift", Freed whispers and Laxus draws his husband into the tightest of hugs. "Should I give you one too, when I eventually die?"

Freed shakes his head. "My dearest love, there's nowhere you can go where I won't follow. You've been feeling it too, haven't you? We're entering a new time, where a divide won't be there anymore. We will simply be humans, all of us."

When the time to fade comes, they know and are ready for it. Everyone's been feeling it, but there's a peace that shields them all  from true fear. There's an intimate knowledge that this is one of the changes that simply is, that simply happens.

Freed and Laxus are sitting hand in hand, with their feet idly splashing into the fountain as unworried children would do. "When we meet again, because there are no ifs about it, will you greet me as a friend?" Freed softly asks as his eyes close themselves and Laxus whispers back: "My love, I'd greet you as a lover."

Bonus:

University lectures aren't always the most interesting, but this one is certainly turning out to be. A guy a few rows before him looks about ready to fistfight the professor about nihilism of all things. He can't properly hear them, but clearly the confrontation is over and the guy whirls away from the prof, heading straight for the door. Laxus decides to follow him.

"Why were you defending a belief that says human life is useless and meaningless? I think we all have a defined purpose", Laxus says, daring the other man the answer.

And answer, he does, with eyes blazing like the gates of hell. "Life is inherently meaningless", he says with certainty, "But that's because it's filled with the opportunity to create your own meaning. You may be waiting for divine intervention, but I'll create my own destiny."

Laxus smiles then, the familiarity and the warmth returning to his soul. "Then I'll do too", he says, "You've always inspired me, my love."

Whether they be human or something else, their kisses keep tasting the same.

[palishere]

23 for the wincest questionnaire!!?

Oh, hi "Anonymous" (*glares and coughs at Deeranger) You can't fool me. And to prove it. I'm going to give you. Exactly what you want.

This is one hell of a look of guilt, shame, disgust. But what could Dean have been thinking about...? I can only assume.

His tongue pokes out to lick at his split lip, he ignores the way his cheek bone thumps in pain and how the small cut above his eye stings.

'Sam was being a brat anyway' His thoughts are angry and annoyed that Sam really thought he could best him. He isn't the one that ran off to college to play house.

He has himself another beer in between dragging his long limbed brother to the hotel bed. His handgun nearby, Dean doesn't have to bother with tying him down, because Sam should just do as he's told.

Unceremoniously, he rips Sam's pants down over his tight as fuck bubble butt. And Hell, he's not fighting back yet, so Dean gives the plump globes a couple of solid twacks with his palm, loves watching the skin move under his hand. He pulls the cheeks apart and, shit, he doesn't remember pulling his cock out. But he did and it is a solid form in his other hand.

With both all the time in the world and no time at all to waste, Dean's bow legs start to bracket his brother, he lines his cock up clumsily and he doesn't remember much in this moment, he remembers telling his brother what a tight little hole he had, sl maybe he struggled to push his cock in, he doesn't know.

The tight vice of Sam's relaxed sphincter feels like magic as he forces the another three inches in, unsure if he can fit much more Dean starts to retreat with a groan.

"Been keeping this from me, Sammy" Dean puffs in a sing song soft voice as he slaps the younger hunters hip, he rocks his hips forwards and four or five hard inches force their way inside. This must have been a shock to the hunters system because suddenly Sam jerks into consciousness.

It's obvious to Dean to Sam doesn't yet comprehend what has happened after that nasty blow to the side of his head. He tries to roll and quickly snaps for air as he realises what in particular is holding him down.

"NNGH!" Sam muffles through half a pillow. And tries to roll again, throwing an arm back to know whoever, Dean, his brother, Winchester flesh and blood, off of his back.

"NGH! GET OFF!"

Dean grabs Sams neck and holds him, pushing Sam into the mattress. Aand this is when things become clear and oh, so much worse for the littlest Winchester.

"Shut up!" Dean snnarls as he rocks back and forth, Sam takes a big ole bite out of that pillow and squeals into it, the pain shocks his system, but, he hasn't registered that voice yet. He will.

"NNGH! DNNT! GTT FFF!" Sam starts to thrash so Dean's hand gets tighter around that thick neck.

"I'm just starting, Sammy..." Dean growls, his thrusts are getting erratic and rough and for whatever reason he doesn't seem at all concerned with harming his brother. "Thats it, relax it, let me in, Sammy." -

*******

*******

Dean's hand tightens, hand bluring over the shaft of his cock, he thinks- no, dreams about burrying his curved veiny cock in between the pure white globes of his brother ass, his body spasms, as he imagines what it would be like to hold his brother down, to feel his dick twitching and pulsing inside of Sam. His thumb rubs over the sensitive neck of his dick when an overwhelming pleasure scorches through his system, his hand stills just below the head when he imagines his cock nudging Sam in places to force the kid to cry and moan a mixture of pleasure, his cock making his brother enjoy it. With very little warning a string of white, sticky cum shoots over his hand. He jerks and shudders, a moan trembles from his lips. He tries to stifle it. Because Sam is just there and Dean was lying when he said that Winchester's are heavy sleepers...

[impala-dreamer]

Playful Punishment

SPN FanFic

~Sam's got a new toy to show you and lock you into...~

Sam x Reader

2,177 Words

Warnings: NSFW. D/s Relationship. Bondage. Face Fucking. Light Spanking. Tiny bit of Pain Kink. Intercourse. Aftercare. Smushy Lovey Dommey Hardcore Smut. Bon Appetit.

A/N: This is for my D/s Square on @spnkinkbingo. I hope you all enjoy, leave me some feedback and as always, Smut Responsibly (tm)

2019 Kink Bingo Masterlist ~ Feedback is Gold ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon

The stocks were new.

Sam had snuck them in last week while you were out on a hunt with Castiel and had diligently arranged the dungeon for your surprise.

He'd cleaned up a bit, added some pillows and blankets in the far corner, shined up the iron shackles, and replaced the usual chair with his new acquisition.

Classic wooden stocks, custom-fitted just for you.

It had started as a drunken tumble of words, one of those things you blurt out when you really don’t know what you’re saying. Over a six-pack and half a pie in a shitty motel room a hundred miles from home, you’d let slip to Sam your fantasy of being shackled and used, stuffed from both ends, bound and unable to pull away. You’d both laughed it off at the time, but the worm had snuck into Sam’s ear, and he brought it up every so often afterwards, goading you with tempting whispers and well placed ties around your wrists at night; testing the waters.

Now he was going for gold.

The wood was smooth where it hit your wrists and neck, not tight enough to mark you, but close enough to allow for only a breath of air to pass through. You spread your legs and locked your knees, naked ass pulled slightly apart and on display, bent over at the waist to fit into the stocks.

It felt strange to stand like that, bare tits hanging, nipples already hard in the cool dungeon air. You could feel it all over, that coldness that the bricks gave off, a steady chill that tickled your skin, setting off a chain of goose-pimples.

Sam eased your nerves as he walked around you, running a tender hand up your spine.

“This is a good look for you,” he whispered, rounding the stocks to secure the lock. It was a simple slip bolt, one small piece of brass that kept you locked and in place. But it was more than the lock, it was desire, it was fantasy, it was Sam.

The bolt slid into place and you flinched at the clack.

“Scared?”

You bit you lip and tried to look up at him, but there wasn’t much to see; your neck couldn’t turn that way. “No, just…”

“Nervous?”

“A little.”

He came around fully and stood before you, your eyes drawn instantly to the buckle of his belt. Sam had built the wooden cage to the perfect height: all it would take was a slide of zipper and a slight thrust forward and he’d be snug in your mouth. Oppositely, you realized, your legs were poised, pussy spread and in perfect position to take him without any maneuvering whatsoever. He had planned well and the thought made your cunt clench around the empty air.

“Don’t be,” he said simply, tracing your jaw with one gentle finger. It was soothing, the sweep of his long fingertip, and your lips parted with a soft exhale. “There, that’s better.”

Taking advantage of your open mouth, Sam slipped his thumb between your lips and your heart began to race as you clamped down, instinctively beginning to suck the long digit. Your eyes closed as you moaned around him, wishing so hard that it was his cock instead.

Sam licked his lips as he watched you greedily nursing on his thumb. He loved to see the hollow of your cheeks deepen and the shadow of your eyelashes flutter. Every heavy breath and tight moan you offered gave him a twisted pleasure, and soon he yanked his hand away, leaving your lips open and drooling in his wake.

"Wha...but...Sam!"

You whimpered and he snapped, tongue clicking against his teeth in disappointment.

"You'll never learn to accept your fate, will you?" he said roughly, voice darkening as he backed away too far for you to see.

"I…"

He went on, ignoring your whimper as he opened his belt. "You don't get to complain."

The buckle clanked as he slid back the leather. "You don't get to choose what I put where, what I decide to give you."

The zipper fell painfully slow, each tooth ripping apart and making your pussy throb in anticipation. "How I decide to fuck you...or not."

You lifted your eyes as he approached, stepping out of his jeans and leaving his shoes behind. His cock was half hard, hanging low against his left thigh, mostly hidden by the orange flannel he now moved to shed. You watched as he came closer, cock swinging gently with each step.

"You don't have a choice anymore, slut," he growled, popping the last button on his shirt. You could hear the fabric move as he shrugged it off his thick shoulders, but all your could see was the plaid float to the floor. "Your choices, your thoughts, your...body...all mine now." He grabbed your cheeks with one big hand, fingers pinching until your jaw opened and your lips formed a perfect O.

"Isn't that correct, slut?" he asked, loosening his grip just a bit so you could speak.

"Yes," you managed, cheeks still spread.

The pinch closed tighter. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, Sir!" Your tongue was flooded with drool and your lips could barely form the words but Sam accepted your attempt as good enough.

"Better." His hand slipped down to cup your chin as he fisted his cock with the other, bringing the still rather limp organ closer to your lips. "Now," he said with a smile tinting his words, "make me ready."

Your tongue fell from your lips automatically, ready to receive him and you moaned deeply as the tip hit you, washing your taste buds with his familiar tang. Hands and head locked in place, there was little you could do at such a distance, but you gave it your all, stretching your tongue to reach as much of him as you could. You licked and swirled what he gave you; moaned as he inched closer.

Sam hummed in approval. "It's much nicer when you put that tongue to good use instead of flapping it aimlessly. You don't need to talk, you need a nice full mouth."

Your clit throbbed. "Yes, Sir."

"Say it. 'Sluts need a full mouth'."

You took a breath and began. "Sluts need a fu-"

Sam didn't let you finish, thrusting his cock deep down your throat in one swift push of his hips. You gagged on him, still mumbling the rest of your recitation as your eyes rolled closed.

"That's it."

He held still, letting you choke around him, watching carefully as your eyes watered. Sam counted silently in his head and slid out when he reached ten.

You gasped, coughing as the air filled your lungs, a thick line of spit falling from your lips.

"Again," Sam commanded.

Your body flushed with arousal as you recited his words. "Slut needs a full mouth."

He pushed in deep again, your lips numbing at the pressure of his thrust. Again, he choked you, forcing his cock deep down your throat. You felt the reflex pushing up a wave of warmth as your throat constricted, but Sam eased up before anything came up.

"Perfect little cock slut," he praised, slowly pumping the tip of his cock through your tight lips.

Each word made your pussy flutter with increased arousal and your eyes closed as you happily slurped his cock. Sam gathered up your hair, pulling it back tightly as he thrust through your lips, enjoying the hot wetness of your throat and the tears brimming in your blank eyes.

“There’s my girl,” he grunted, cock swelling, balls twitching. “My good little slut.”

Your pussy clenched and a fresh stream of desire leaked down your thighs, starting a tiny puddle on the stone floor. He pumped his hips faster and you moaned around him, every push making your body tremble. As your jaw began to ache and your knees wobble, Sam pulled out, dropping his hand from your hair and backing away. A flood of drool spilled from your lips and you coughed loudly.

“Fuck!” you panted, finally able to breathe deep enough to clear your head.

Sam smirked. “Oh, we will…”

Your body shivered as he walked quickly around you, disappearing from view. You could hear his footsteps as he rounded the stocks, feel the heat of him as he approached you from the rear.

“Such a beautiful...wet pussy…” Sam slid his hand gently over your ass and down between the cheeks, long fingers gliding over your soaked lips. “So wet.” He hummed in approval and slid his middle finger deep inside your cunt, making your eyes roll back.

“Please, Sam!”  

His hand fell away, leaving you cold. “Excuse me?” he growled, rough voice echoing around you.

You swallowed back a whimper and tried again, your ass wiggling, reaching for him. “Please...Sir…”

The warmth of his palm returned, lovingly cupping your ass. “That’s better.” The hand cracked over your skin quickly, loud twack resounding in the dungeon. “Mind your manners, slut.” Another slap and you bit your lip tight, trying to stay quiet.

“Sorry, Sir,” you whimpered, aching sex clenching, begging to be filled.

His fingertips massaged your cheeks, kneading the heated flesh before slipping down between. Sam pried your ass cheeks apart with his big thumbs and whistled. “This is quite a sight. You should see yourself, all open and swollen and wet.” His hands fell further, peeling open the lips of your cunt, gently stretching your hole as he flicked at your walls with a fingertip. “How are you feeling?”

Words were not springing to your empty mind, so your tongue took the lead. “H-horny, Sir.”

Sam laughed. “I can see that.”

“Need...need to be fucked.”

His finger tickled deeper, sliding against the tunnel walls of your sloppy cunt. “Oh, do you?”

“Yes,” you begged. “Please, Sir. Please fuck your horny slut.”

Sam sighed, a grin upon his pink lips. “Very well.”

One hand disappeared as he readied his cock, fisting it slowly and grabbing the base as he lined up. You gasped as the head nudged against you, his other hand still holding you open.

Sam bit his lip and slowly pushed inside. “So tight and warm for me, slut.”

“Y-yes, Sir. Fuck!”

He pushed steadily until you were filled and then pushed some more, making you cry out at the delicious pain of his long cock stuffed deep inside. When he could go no further, Sam stilled his hips and grabbed yours, locking his giant hands around you before sliding half way out.

“Oh fuck!” The drag felt incredible and you bit your tongue, unable to move anything else.

Sam’s fingers tensed as he pushed back in, finally ready to use you properly. “Such a good girl.” He sang your praises on the end of husky grunts as he picked a quick pace to fuck you with. “My perfect little slut.” Blunt nails tattooed your sides with tiny crescents that burned dimpled your skin. “So horny and obedient for me.”    

He fucked you harder, rock hard hips rocking into your ass, pushing your shoulders into the wooden stocks with each thrust.

“God! Fuck! Sam!” You could hold your screams no longer and Sam growled, his pace quickening.

“You gonna cum, huh?” he asked, thrusting harder. “You gonna cum on my big cock, slut?”

Your jaw dropped and your eyes rolled as everything tightened around him. “Yes, Sir! Please!”

He clawed at your hips, biting his lip as his stomach tensed. “Go on,” he grunted. “Cum for me, slut. Milk my cock with that sloppy cunt.”

Lightning lit your system as you came, pussy convulsing around him, pushing and pulling as the orgasm took over your entire body. Sam came soon after, filling your cunt with hot cum that dribbled down your legs with each slowly thrust he gave, hips slowing as his cock softened.

When the tremors had passed, Sam dropped down over you, long body covering your entire back. He kissed the nape of your neck and across your shoulders, ran his hands soothingly up your sides, whispered your praises as he came down.

"That was beautiful," he said, slowly standing back up. "Thank you."

He unlocked the stocks with a clink of metal and set you free, gingerly scooping you up into his arms. Your entire body ached with strain and total satisfaction, and you hung limply in his strong arms.

"Did you enjoy?" he asked, shifting you up so that your head rested on his shoulder.

“Very.” It was all you could manage, but it was enough.

Sam smiled sweetly and kissed your forehead. “I’m glad. Now, let’s get you in the bath and I’ll go make us some food.”

You perked up at the mention of tasties. “Sam?”

He paused his trek to the door and looked down with a loving gaze. “Yes, Y/N?”

“I want ice cream.”

He laughed.

“I’m serious.”

Sam rolled his eyes and kissed the tip of your nose. “I know, baby. I’ll get the Haagen Daz.”

2019 Forever Tags:

@akshi8278 @amanda-teaches @arses21434 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @because-imma-lady-assface @burningcoffeetimetravel @colagirl5 @cosicas-cuquis @cosmicfire72 @courtney-elizabeth-winchester @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @dean-winchesters-bacon @deansenwackles @deansgirl215 @deanmonandnegansbitch​   @dolphincliffs @dubuforeveralone @emilyshurley @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @eternal-elir @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @gayspacenerd @hella-aj-the-trickers-son @herbologystudent252 @hobby27 @ilsawasanacrobat @justcallmeasmodeus​ @katymacsupernatural @lastactiontricia @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @mysticmaxie @onethirstyunicorn @our-jensen-ackles-love @peridot-rose @pisces-cutie @risingphoenix761 @roonyxx @roxyspearing @sandlee44 @shadowkat-83 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnficgirl @supernaturaldean67 @supernatural-took-me-over @thehardcoveraddict @tmiships4life @wegoddessofhell @winchesterprincessbride

[littlemisssquiggles]

RWBY Musings #5: I didn’t go into RWBY Volume 5 expecting to ship RoseGarden as much as I do now. I didn’t even know this ship existed in the first place...

...But then I saw the way Oscar practically gazed at Ruby in Episodes One and Three...and that was it, I got bit HARD by the RoseGarden shipping bug. This ship got me hook, line and sinker.

I saw Oscar’s face and now I’m a believer!

“...I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve never met real huntsmen and huntresses before..” says the boy who literally just met a huntsmen 5 minutes ago at a bar and has the spirit of a huntsmen living in his body.

But, sure, I’ll accept you saying that totally-not-BS excuse to the girl you just tried to sneak a peak at, looking at Ruby the same way Scrat from Ice Age looks at his nuts.

I just don’t know how much more I can voice about my interest in this ship that I haven’t already said before. I know it’s something that certain shippers are against but I, for one, really would like to see this become something.

I truly want Oscar and Ruby to have a close friendship that could/would ultimately turn into something more.

As a matter of fact, let me tell ya’ll what I want for this ship:

-          I want, for this first Volume that they’re meeting each other for the first time, Oscar to be the one with the romantic interest; having a HUGE crush on Ruby that is obvious to everyone else but her. I can see Ruby genuinely liking Oscar too but not really seeing him in that light as yet...at least not for maybe another volume or two (possibly following a time skip so that the two characters can age up allowing perfect time for Oscar to fully mature into the sexy beast his fans know he’s going to become) C’mon! We all know that’s what is gonna happen. The cute cinnamon roll always becomes the smexilicous stud muffin in the end. It is the law of cartoon main male character evolution, people. That’s biology for yuh there!)

-          I want Ruby and Oscar to stand next to each other in the same frame just so that fans get a good idea of  exactly how small Oscar is to Ruby. We all know that Oscar is definitely the shortest of the males since he’s the youngest now. But what I want to know mostly is his full height when standing next to Ruby. There’s a part of me that estimates that he’s only shorter than her by a few centimetres. Still a smol gentle avocado but not too much of a short bean sprout. Although if he is inches shorter than our red-haired protagonist, I’ll laugh cause it’d be so cute. On another hand, I think Oscar and Ruby could be roughly around the same height, surprisingly. But...can’t really tell for now. Got to wait to see them stand next to each other to be more accurate.

-          I want Ruby and Oscar to share a room together and be roommates. I imagine that since Qrow will be out gathering huntsmen in Mistral, he’ll be gone for a while leaving Ruby all by herself to one room. Last time I checked there were two beds in her room and one of them was originally occupied by Qrow while he was recovering. So maybe before his departure, Qrow tells Oscar that he can have his side of the room while he’s out, neglecting to also mention the fact that his room was also Ruby’s. I can imagine an awkward moment with Oscar gleefully showing up to his new room only to meet Ruby standing there as she opened the door, instantly becoming all flustered and embarrassed at the idea of sharing the room with a girl. But while Oscar turns into a tomato over sharing a room with his crush, Ruby will be all hyper and super excited about having a roommate her age again since she hasn’t since her original team. Plus I’m sure Ruby would find Oscar to be a more pleasant roommate than Drunkle Qrow. I really want to see this cause I imagine it’d be cute and funny at the same time; just to see each character’s reactions. And before anyone comes to my comment section yelling at me that Ruby and Oscar staying in the same room together is inappropriate, allow me to gently direct your attention to Jaune, Nora and Ren. When Pyrrha was around, Team JNPR were (and still are) a unisex team who shared a room together and that was not a problem at all. I’m pretty sure that they still share a room together because of familiarity. We did get a glimpse of them all together in the same room looking at Pyrrha’s old weapon. So I wouldn’t be surprised if the group share the same room again while staying in Mistral.

 -          I want Ruby and Oscar to train together and bond through helping each other strengthen their weaknesses; similar to how Pyrrha and Jaune were. Imagine this...what if Ruby can help Oscar with his training to ‘strength his body and Aura’ as Ozpin put in and Oscar, in turn, could assist Ruby with her hand-to-hand combat training by being her main sparring partner because...as it turned out Oscar is actually good at that (might even be a natural cause y’know of his farmhand background so he’s used to using his hands and being on his feet and y’know *insert reference to how the techniques and disciplines for hand-to-hand combat are akin to performing basic daily chores and work...y’know like how it was in the Jack Chan/Jaden Smith Karate Kid movie and blah blah*.

 -          I want Ruby and Oscar, despite hints of deeper feelings, to grow really close as friends and become comfortable around each other to the point that they’re just REALLY cool being in each other’s company. For the longest while, I’ve had this cute fanart idea in my head of Oscar and Ruby on the same bed. Oscar is studiously reading one of the books he brought with him from his aunt’s farm while Ruby is either sprawled over his stomach or lying down with her head resting on his stomach, reading one of her comic books. Might even toss in a plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies (prepared by Ren or even Oscar) that the two are sharing together; all smiles. Oscar is still all flushed of being so close to his crush but overall the two are comfortable being that close in each other’s company.  

-          I want several hand holding moments between Oscar and Ruby. No explanation needed. Just want to see it cause it’d be cute.

-          I want Oscar to selflessly put his own life on the line to protect Ruby. Like maybe Tyrian, after getting a second chance from Salem, returns to capture Ruby. And since Tyrian doesn’t know him, Oscar does what I can only describe as a stupidly brave thing, to keep Ruby safe. Not only does he hide her away (catching her off guard and probably locking her in a room somewhere) but he also pilfers her red hood and maybe even Crescent Rose. All the tools he needs to make his disguise complete. Oscar then dresses himself as Ruby and uses himself a decoy to lure Tyrian away from the real Ruby. Since Ruby and Oscar are practically around the same height, Tyrian wouldn’t be able to tell the difference giving Oscar the advantage. Tyrian would either capture Oscar thinking its Ruby or be fooled long enough for Oscar to lure him straight outta Mistral. I can already see Ozpin practically screaming in Oscar’s mind how his actions, while commendably noble, were also foolish. It’s something that I can picture Oscar doing for Ruby and it would be a nice thing to see in the show, maybe.

-          I want Ruby and Oscar to fight together; utilizing everything they learned during their training. Ruby and Oscar vs Tyrian. Do I even need to justify why I want to see this happen? To quote Griff from RVB, “It’ll be totally badass”. And of course it’ll end with Oscar and Ruby defeating Tyrian. They won’t kill him (of course) but maybe they’ll capture him and use him for interrogation purposes into learning Salem’s plans.

-          I want a cheek kiss moment. Like maybe after they defeat Tyrian together, Ruby kisses Oscar on his big adorable freckly cheeks as thanks for trying to protect her (but not before giving him two good punches to the shoulder for locking her up, stealing her hood and weapon AND endangering himself and Ozpin; even if it was for her which...I believe Ruby would grow wary of at some point. Tired of seeing the people she cares about get hurt for her sake and Oscar would be no exception).

-          I want, if Ruby and Oscar fight together, can they please have a tag team attack named ‘Rose Garden’? The tag team attacks are something I miss from the show. That part in Season II where RWBY fought together and had all the cool tag team attack names was admittedly one of my favourite moments/fights of the season. Can we bring that back just for these two cuties kicking ass together.

 I think that’s it for things I want from this ship.

I didn’t choose the RosePine/ RoseGarden shipping life, it choose me or rather it twacked me over the head with the adorable awkwardness of a potential relationship between these two adorkable characters. I can’t with them. They are just too CUTE! I hope we get to see more Ruby and Oscar interactions in the next episode before we get to the big training montage. The main focus of the last episode was more exposition rather than getting to know each other and as much as I enjoyed that scene, I hope we get some lighthearted moments just for the characters to just talk to each other; y’know and not about war and impending doom. I guess we’ll see in the next episode. See you guys in Episode 4. Peace! 

~LittleMissSquiggles (2017)

[weforgotthatwearethestars]

No Memory is Gonna Save You Now (part 3)

Part 3, lemme know what you think.

To reiterate (aka the summary):

While out on patrol, Peter looses most of his memories. Through the kindness of strangers, his friends, and his family, he learns exactly what those closest to him mean to him.  

Starker, so don’t like don’t read!

Also here on Ao3!

Tags: amnesia, temporary amnesia, team as family, canon-typical violence, fluff, angst, happy ending

He gets to the lab without getting lost only to find that Tony seems to be pretty lost in some project again. Peter thinks about calling out and breaking his concentration but that seems like a waste. The man is a genius and he probably didn’t want to have to hold Peter’s hand through all of this. 

So Peter creeps up to Tony and places the bowl gently and within reach of Tony. He waits for a moment or two, making sure the other man didn’t knock to bowl down or something. Surprisingly, it wasn’t long before Tony picked up the bowl and started eating from it absently. 

Peter smiles at the complete focus the other man has on his work, something warm curling in his guts before he slips away and out of the lab. He figure this out himself, no need to bother Tony. 

Once out of the lab he gets back in the elevator and asks, “Hey, Friday?” 

“Yes, Peter.” 

“Can you give me directions to...wherever I live in here?” 

“Of course. This elevator will take you to and opens up directly to your apartment.” 

“Wha- I have an apartment?” 

“Yes, you do.” 

He could’ve sworn she sounded pleased. 

It takes no time at all for the elevator to deposit him into an open plan, spacious living/dining/kitchen area. All the things that are part of the apartment, like the walls, floors, furniture, and appliances, are in shades of black, white, and every grey in between. 

The stuff, though, his stuff it must be, is what seems to stick out in the grayscale. There’s posters and pictures on the walls, some framed and some taped. There’s dishes stacked around, cups and plates and bowls on any surface and usually next to books and papers, pens and pencils. It’s an organized chaos that makes the almost sterile foundations of the place seem more like a home. 

There’s a hall he can’t see down and a view of the city so high up in makes his heart flutter. 

Feels almost like he’s flying or falling or both, just for a second. 

He feels stuck to the floor just inside the apartment from the elevator doors and says, “Friday?” It feels wrong to be asking for her even though he’s been doing that all day. 

“Yes, Peter?” 

“Do I, uh, do I live here alone? Like, who’s all the people on the walls?” Friday almost seems to pause before she responds, “I can answer your questions but due to the current circumstances, I would like to inform you that you usually speak to Karen when you are in your apartment.” 

“Whose Karen?!” 

“Hi, Peter. How are you doing?” 

Peter does not shriek at the second, female, very kind, voice. 

He doesn’t. 

It’s definitely a manly shout. 

“I’m sorry, Peter. Are you currently experiencing sensory overload?” this new voice asks at a very, very low volume. 

“No,” Peter answers just as quietly and twice as shakey, “ I don’t, um, think I am.” Then he adds quickly, dread pooling in his guts, worry lacing his voice, “Are you?” 

There is another pause similar to Friday’s earlier one, before, “Friday has informed me that you have lost all of your memories.” Karen responds, working her volume up to normal speaking levels and loosening the tension in Peter’s guts. “I am an AI, like Friday, who was created by Mr. Tony Stark for you. I was made mainly for your suit but you’ve requested that I be linked to your apartment, as Friday is linked to the Tower.” 

Peter frowns a little at that before he asks, “Then why didn’t you help me last night?” 

“Your suit was wiped of all data and programming last night at 10:56pm,” Karen says, sounding almost remorseful and if that doesn’t make Peter feel bad - “including myself.” - that does. 

“I’m really sorry about that.” Peter says, hoping he has time to make a note at some point on something he owns to do something nice for Karen. He doesn’t know, right now, what you’re supposed to do when the AI built for you by a genius you live with, for some reason, takes a hit, sorta, while you’re out doing your superhero thing, but he’s hoping that he’ll know once his memories are back. 

“It’s ok, Peter. Earlier you asked Friday if you live here alone and who the people on the walls are. Would you like me to answer those questions?” 

“Yeah,” Peter says with a smile at the almost content note in her voice, “I’d like that, thank you.” 

“No problem, Peter.” she chirps back before she goes on to explain his own apartment to him. Thank Lovelace for helpful AI’s programmed into the walls, Peter thinks wryly before moving around to different pictures as directed. 

Turns out Peter lives, as far as the apartment goes, alone. But, just like Tony said, loads of people live in the Tower. Including some of the people Peter has hung up on his wall. He puts faces to names Tony told him and to new names that Tony didn’t. Karen doesn’t tell him stories but she tells him who he’s fought beside, complained about, and worried over. 

There are also people that don’t live in the Tower and are not superheros and it’s kind of a relief to know that he has a life outside of saving people. 

And getting kidnapped. 

After they finish with the pictures in the living area, Karen directs him to the other rooms. There's two guest rooms that look mostly untouched by the home-y feel of the previous rooms, a bedroom that he’s informed is his own, and a lab at the end. The bedroom has more pictures and knick knacks than he feels truly capable of tackling but the bed is like a cloud and the sheets are soft and warm. 

He also finds his own clothes but when he thinks about changing out of Tony’s clothes, about giving them back, it has him frowning in front of his choices and putting the whole thing off. He tries not to think too hard about what that might mean. 

Wandering into the lab, the thoughts are replaced with wonder almost immediately. 

A love for biology and chemistry, Peter thinks, add that to The List. 

Tony’s lab had been massive and disorganized and filled with almost anything a physicists or engineer could ever want. This lab is smaller, the size of one and a half of his bedroom, maybe. And it was filled with chemicals and plants and equipment that indicated anything from advanced biomechanical experiments to chemical engineering. He pokes through the notes that are in several different places, left on different lab tables. 

He picks up a stirring rod and asks Karen questions as he walks up to each plant. Can I poke it, am I supposed to touch it, what am I testing, what’s its name? She answers anything she can and pulls up several videos of Peter’s experiments from over the years. 

Watching them, he learns a lot about himself. 

He learns that he's kinda smart and kinda funny. He makes jokes and references then laughs to himself afterwards, carrying a conversation with himself out loud all the while. He has an entire watering, feeding, and lighting system set up with so many back ups and fail safes and timers that it's hard to even understand them all at some point. He's impressed by the sheer thoughtfulness, bordering on paranoia. Different spouts turn on, lights go on and off with a variety of colors all while wafts of fertilizer come and go while he sits in the lab watching videos and asking Karen questions. 

He also finds half assembled metal body parts, which isn't a sentence he woke up this morning imagining he'd think. There are no less than three hands and too many ankles to think about. None are as complex as the arm that Bucky had handed him earlier but none are as heavy either. Karen informs him that he's working  on making cybernetic limbs to help amputees and it makes him swell with pride at himself to know that he's working on something like that. 

The best find, though, rolls out from behind a potted plant on a higher shelf. 

At first, it's the irregular beeping that alerts him to something different, something new, in the ecosystem of the lab. Sure, loads of things had beeped and clicked and twacked but nothing quite like this. Nothing that made him sit up and look around, listening with full focus. It came again and he realized it was to his right. Again, and he realized it was above his head instead of below or at eye level. Scanning the shelves at the presumably correct height didn’t turn anything up except for more flowers and he was debating going to find a stool or something when the little thing rolled into view. 

It was the most adorable thing Peter had ever seen, memories or not. 

They trilled and whirred as they peaked out from behind one of the pots, their tracks squeaking just a little on the shelf as they turned. Their eyes were the same color and glow as the arc reactor in Tony’s suits but looked like mini binoculars as they flapped and zoomed in on him. The neck and hands looked like they were inspired by Dum-E, just scaled down for the little guy. They were all affixed to a box as the main body and painted completely in whites and greys. 

“Hey, little guy.” Peter says taking a small step closer to the little ‘bot, “Who are you?” They tilt their little binocular eyes right, then left, then right again, before emitting the happily little whirrly clicks, as they clap their little grabber claw hands together. Before Peter can do much more than giggle, though, the thing is changing, shifting almost. The tracks pop out and swivel up and away from the main body as a blue glow starts to show from the tracks. Then they’re - 

“You float!” Peter squawks out, just before the noodle arms extend at him and the little ‘bot jumps and floats down as he wraps Peter’s neck in they’re extendo limbs. Peter holds the little thing as it lands in his arms and nuzzles it’s little binocular head into his chest. 

“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Peter whispers as he stares in awe at the little ‘bot in his arms. They trill happily at the comment and Peter can’t help but laugh, breathlessly happy with the implication that he had a hand in this cute little baby’s existence. 

This is, of course, when there was a knock on the door. 

Another manly shout, much to Peter’s annoyance. 

The bot clicking out a snicker and clapping its grabby claws together, tickling Peter’s neck. 

“I know you’re in there, ребенок паук. I will come in.” 

At the casual threat from the person on the other side, the little ‘bot lets out something like squealing speakers and grinding gears as their noodle arms unravel themselves from his neck so fast they drop for a second before their hovering kicks back in. 

No, it’s little repulsors! Peter realizes with a start as the poor thing scrambles behind a pot, barely peeking through the leaves of the small bush, blue eyes shining eerily in the dim of the shelf. Peter is still standing there, blinking, as another knock sounds. 

“Karen, who’s here? And why isn’t the apartment locked?” Peter asks in a whisper. 

“Ms. Natasha is here. The apartment is locked but you have permission for her as well as several others to enter without needing to ask you first. Would you like to change that?” Karen responds in the same quiet volume. 

Peter smacks his forehead, annoyed at himself for not thinking about that sooner, “Yes. Please. Um, anyone can leave but no one can get in without my explicit permission. Except -” He nibbles his lip a little at his own thoughts of, maybe that’s too much, maybe I shouldn’t - oh, fuck it, “Except Tony. He can come in whenever, too.” 

Peter doesn’t quite catch Karen’s response as his heart starts beating a staccato out in his chest as he settles his hand over the biometrics scanner, the door sliding open with a barely audible hiss. Leaning against the wall, directly across from his lab’s door, is a woman who looks to have made herself completely at home in his hallway. Her short, red hair brushes her shoulder lightly as she tilts her head to side slightly, her lip curling into a small smile. 

“Giving up pretty easy, this time. Want to talk now or do I need to kick it out of you?” 

Peter's eyes widen and he worriedly responds, "Please don't fight me?! I didn't even do anything!" 

She's confused. He's not sure how he knows that, something about the pinch to the corners of her eyes or the slightest raise of one eyebrow to the other. 

Her face is so blank, though, that he wonders if he's maybe making those signs up. 

"Steve said you were quiet at lunch." she states, no room for denial. He can feel her gaze like needles in the back of his neck and he knows, in his bones, that she's trying to decide if he's a threat. And based on the casual threats of violence and the powerful way she holds herself, he'd bet that a threat is a bad thing to be to her. 

Her eyes narrow and with that one slight movement, every alarm in his head goes off. 

"Explain." she demands, even less room now to deflect. A very, very bad thing, indeed. 

"Ok, look, I don't know if I'm supposed to tell people or not. But! I-I lost my memories last night. Well, not lost, the wizard put them in an I.D. card. So that the hive mind aliens couldn’t take them. Or scramble my brain.” He can feel the desperation bleed onto his face as he, “You’re just gonna kill me, aren’t you.” 

Her face is cold and unreadable as the silence stretches on and her eyes bore into him. 

Peter’s pretty much accepted the fact that she’s going to kill him with her mind when, “Friday?” she asks. 

“I can confirm that Dr. Strange put all of Peter’s memories into his obsolete Stark Industries I.D. badge, last night, while in the lab with Mr. Stark. He did this while Peter was kidnapped by an alien race that Dr. Strange is trying to keep from going to war with Earth. They are technologically advanced but have no knowledge of magic. The aliens were going to try to extract Peter’s memories and use this knowledge against the Avengers in the war they wanted to begin. Dr. Strange extracted them first, though he claims it was Peter’s idea, since there was no hope of physical rescue before the procedure would be performed on him.” 

Her face softens a little and Peter feels less like he may immediately die. 

“How did you get out?” she asks, reaching out to start running her hands along Peter’s shoulders, arms, ribs. 

“Uh, I don’t know? I, I woke up on the ground with s-some trees. And a drunk girl called me Spider-Man.” 

She lifts an eyebrow at him as she pulls away from her clinical pat down and responds, “Karen didn’t tell you when you woke up?” 

“No, she got zapped or something. The whole suit was pretty fried when I got back.” Peter says, a sheepish note to his voice. 

“Then how did you get back here?”

 He lifts his sleeve for her, saying, “I have a list in - oh. I guess it healed.” Her eyes seem to spark at this so Peter hurriedly adds, “But, uh! Friday probably has the video! Right, Fri?” 

“The image of the list on your arm last night has been pulled up on the tv in the living area.” replies Friday, promptly. 

Tentatively, they walk to the living area and Natasha spots the picture on the tv and just, stops. 

It’s kinda bad with the blood smeared all over his arms and hands and the letters standing out in dark red against pale skin. 

She wrenches her eyes away from the screen and murmurs “Turn it off, Friday.” as she grabs for Peter’s sleeve to shove it up, over the elbow, and gently inspects the smooth, pale skin underneath. Peter is a little stunned by the tender touch before he remembers Tony telling him that Natasha had kind of taken him under her wing after she had threatened his life. Guess it’s a pattern for her, Peter thinks, a little deliriously. 

She lets out a small huff as the tension seems to release from her shoulders minutely. “So, you found Tony and he explained everything to you?” Peter just nods in response. “Alright, then.” she says, as she rolls his sleeve back down, almost delicately. She catches his wrist once she fixes his sleeve and reals him into a tight hug that Peter freezes in, just for a moment, before wholeheartedly returning it.

For the first time since she showed up, he well and truly relaxes, even letting out a small chuckle. 

Who knew terrifying superheros were huggy? 

She pulls back and Peter lets her place her hands on his shoulders. Squeezing just a little, with a smirk quirking her lips, she says, “Let’s introduce you to everyone.”

Previous / Next

[myselfinserts]

I can’t do it on command!

Life for Caelum Arner has always been hit and miss. From a young age, he knew he wouldn’t be able to live a normal life. His quirk, a pesky little nuisance his mother called Hexed, caused him to forever have moments where he became a ghost to world. 

It was a simple enough power, in concept. He could phase through things, turn invisible, the typical ghosty things. But it wasn’t like normal ghost powers. He couldn’t control when he phased. Or when he vanished. And it wasn’t as simple as turning transparent. In reality, it was more like he ended up in a parallel dimension. Or a void space. He could still see and move within their normal reality, but it was as if he existed just on the outside. Like being on one side of a window, staring into a house. 

And of course, the quirk’s namesake, was both a result of his ghost like abilities, and of the blue hexagons that slowly took over one side of his face. 

Forever marked. 

Forever cursed.

Forever alone. 

Until that fateful day.

Caelum didn’t know why he decided to leave the house that cold December morning. He’d been phasing through everything left, right, and center. He couldn’t eat, and if it weren’t for the fact he had his clothes specially made, he almost didn’t get dressed. He screamed at the top of his lungs, frustration boiling over as he stormed out of his home. But no one seemed to notice he was there. He walked right through the mail man and the paper boy, and even into oncoming traffic without even thinking. But the bus full of people didn’t even see him. 

As he walked around town, he tried to come up with a reason he left home instead of just sitting there waiting for his quirk to stop working. He supposed the rational reason would be groceries since his stores were almost empty, but he had those set up to be delivered. Perhaps it was to try and get some exercise. No. No, he already did his morning routine. Right down to the treadmill until he started falling through it. Maybe he left home to get some fresh air? No, he could just open a window if he were that desperate. 

No, there wasn’t really a reason for him to be outside today. 

If someone ever saw him and asked, he could probably say it’s because of the flurry. He rather did like the snow. Seeing his steps indented into the cold white was reassuring. 

But right now, he left not a single mark. 

I shouldn’t be out here.

And yet, he was there. Making his way through the local park as people walked right through him. With every passing civilian, the more his sense of being began to diminish. No matter how hard he focused, he couldn’t get it to cooperate today. Hexed seemed determined to keep him from the world. He’d occasionally glance behind, hoping to see some kind of indent of his footprints in the snow. 

The only steps were those of others.

Please God, he prayed. Someone. Anyone. Look at me. Talk to me. Touch me. Please. Even for just a second. Let someone see me. I’m begging you. 

He slowly approached a nearby crosswalk, his mind slowly growing blank. 

See me. 

See me. 

See me. 

“That’s an interesting quirk you have there.”

Caelum stopped in his tracks, a shiver running up his spine as he turned around, mind now at full alert. A few people still phased through him. But they also moved aside, going around the man that had on a pair of sunglasses, a white scarf, and a long, navy trench coat. His hair was green and tied back into a pony tail, and his expression seemed rather excited, if barely readable. 

“I’m sorry?” Caelum replied. 

The man smiled, stepping in closer. “I said, that’s an interesting quirk you have there.”

“Wait, you...you can see me?”

“Not exactly.” He tapped the frame of his glasses. “New heat signature glasses, stronger than current readers. Still in the testing phase. And I can’t exactly hear you. I’m reading your lips. I’ve gotten quite good at that.”

“Th-that’s fine, I just-” Caelum could barely contain himself, eyes welling with tears. “God. I didn’t expect...I mean. It’s just-”

The man stepped forward, holding out his hand to him. “I’m sorry if your grip just phases through, but I still want to be polite and offer a handshake. My name is Anton.”

Caelum hesitantly reached out, barely managing to mimic a grip, which Anton returned in kind. “My name is Caelum.”

“Like the constellation.”

“Uh...right.” Caelum chuckled a little, blushing slightly. “Mom was really into astronomy.” 

Anton nodded in understanding. “She picked a good name for you.” 

“Thank you.” He looked around, noticing some people stopping to watch and whisper. “I think I better go. People are starting to stare at you. You probably look crazy to them.”

“I can assure you, that isn’t why they’re staring,” Anton sighed. “But if you’d like, we can continue our conversation in private. I think there’s a coffee shop nearby-”

“Actually, can we go to my house?”

Anton raised an eyebrow at him. “Rather bold of you.”

Caelum started to panic. “No, I’m not- that is-” He tugged at his hair, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. “I’d phase right through the chair. And wouldn’t be able to join you for a drink. And it’d still look like you’re talking to yourself. I don’t...I don’t want that.”

“I see.” Anton took a quick glance around. “Lead the way then. Which direction?”

“Right, um. Th-this way.” 

Caelum lead him back to his house, taking care not to walk too far ahead of Anton. As they continued their walk, more people phased through him. People, a couple of dogs. A bird flying off with a rat at one point. Not at all out of the norm for him. But he noticed that as they went, Anton seemed to keep a close eye on him. Almost as though he were observing a wild animal at the zoo. 

It was unsettling. And yet, he found himself welcoming it. 

Anton let out a soft hum as they entered the neighborhood. “A lovely spot. Nice housing.”

“Thank you. I quite like it.” They turned into the yard of the only blue house on the street, heading up to the door. “It’s unlocked so you should be able to-”

TWACK!

Caelum stumbled back, his head aching as he tried to stay on his feet. He’d intended just to phase through. Instead, his quirk chose that moment to stop working. 

Of fucking course. 

“Are you alright?!” Anton quickly rushed up, catching him and keeping him steady. “Damn, that must have hurt.”

“It’s fine! I’m used to it!” Caelum snapped, his frustration bubbling up again as he stormed inside. “This always happens. Turning the damn Hexed on and off is impossible. I can’t do it on command! It’s infuriating!” 

The door clicked closed behind him, and Caelum immediately felt a wave of guilt about what he’d just done. He hadn’t meant to shout Anton, especially after only just meeting him. He turned to apologize.

And was completely taken aback. 

Anton had taken off his glasses, revealing the most beautiful purple eyes he’d ever seen. The white crosses in place of his pupils gave a little spin while slipping off his outer layers, exposing the strong, well toned frame beneath the white button up shirt and black dress pants. 

He’s...beautiful...

“What exactly do you do for a living?” Anton asked. “Because with your quick I don’t see you being able to hold a physical job.”

“I don’t,” Caelum said, surprised by the squeak in his voice. “I do freelance coding. Mostly for indie video games and various websites. I also test firewalls and stuff. Network security. All freelance. It’s easier than an office job.”

“Is that so?”

Cealum tilted his head. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I never had someone get angry at me after first meeting, and I find it refreshing. I’d like to hire you to come work for me, if you’re interested.”

“....Eh?”

Anton didn’t even seem to notice Cealum’s shock. “You’d be paid well. And I do plan on providing you with something to help stablize your quirk. It’ll just take a bit to get it ready. I’ll have to study you for a while. And probably need to analyze your DNA. Are your clothes specially made?”

Caelum just stared at him. 

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

“No, uh...well...” He walked over to his couch, trying to think. “It’s just that I wasn’t exactly looking for a job, and now you’re saying you’d make me something to stablize my quirk? What are you, some kind of support designer?”

“I am. Anton Perun. I’m sure you’ve heard of my work with the recent Team Plasmia?”

Cealum nearly fell over. “THAT Perun? Wait, you’re- WOAH!” He landed on the floor with a hard thud. Of course his quirk would activate the moment he went to sit down.

Kill me now. Just end me. 

Anton didn’t seem too concerned this time. He simply went over and knelt beside him, his hand lightly brushing over the hexagons on his face. “Remarkable. So this is why you call it Hexed.” His gazed softened. “It must be frustrating having to go through this all the time. Please, let me try to help you.”

Caelum sat up, surprised when he solidified again, the sensation of Anton’s hand against his skin feeling rather pleasant. Near perfection. Everything he’d been hoping and praying for over his entire life since striking out on his own. 

He just wanted to be seen. 

He just wanted to be touched. 

He just wanted to be heard.

He couldn’t help it when he began to cry. 

“Okay. Thank you, Anton.”

Caelum sat very still as Anton helped him put on the replacement watch, feeling horrible about letting the first one be completely obliterated. It’d taken them years to perfect it. He didn’t understand how it could have just shattered like that. 

It honestly didn’t matter though. Right now, Caelum was phasing through everything, and had completely vanished from normal sight. Anton had to bring out the heat readers just to be able to get the watch on him. 

“Okay, hold still,” Anton said. “Like the last time, it might sting a little upon first use. Let me know if it’s too much.”

“I’ll be fine,” Caelum muttered. “I’m sorry for ruining the tour for your friend and her students. I didn’t-”

“We already checked the security footage. It wasn’t you. It was someone else.” Anton paused briefly. “The question now is what do you want to do about it? Since you were the one that was attacked.”

Sounds like he already knows who did it. Classic Anton. Caelum let out a sigh. “I just want to finish today. Put it behind me. I’ve already embarrassed us all enough as it is.” Anton shot him a look, and somehow, even behind the glasses, Caelum could tell he wasn’t too pleased with that response. “What?”

Anton turned the dial on the watch, causing it to whir to life. “Caelum, you didn’t embarrass anyone. Not me, not Rosine, and definitely not yourself. You were intentionally targeted for harm. Stop trying to paint this like some kind of accident at a holiday party.” 

As Caelum’s body began to solidify, Anton gently reached out to caress his cheek on his hexagonal side. Caulum waited until the sting faded, and when he felt the brush of fingers against his skin he leaned into them, closing his eyes to take in the heat. He’d forgotten how cold the parallel could be. Anton was always so warm. Like the perfect afternoon at the end of May, just as the summer heat was ready to begin. Every single time he’d go home, or when Anton wouldn’t be in the office because of a conference or a job, Caelum would crave this sensation. 

I wish we could just stay like this...

“I just want to get through today,” he finally answered. “I don’t want to linger on my disappearing act anymore. I’ve had enough of it. The quieter we handle this, the better.”

Anton nodded, withdrawing his hand. “So no Heroes or police? No charges?”

“No.”

“Nothing at all?”

Caelum thought for a moment, trying to think of a solution. “...I suppose blacklisting the culprit would be enough. Just so they don’t hurt anyone else.”

“Alright. That I can do.” Anton glanced behind him, motioning for Caelum to lie down. “Get some rest. I’ll be back after taking care of the fucker.”

“Are you sure? I can still do work-”

“I’d rather you take a moment to rest. That was a sudden shock, and right now the medical wing is the safest place for you until we escort the problem out.” 

He wasn’t wrong. Caelum had almost had a heart attack seeing his watch destoryed like that. He was terrified to go anywhere near the stairs or the elevator. He wasn’t sure if he’d have phased through the floor. It’d never happened before, but the fact that it was still a possibility terrified him. 

Had he fallen, he’d have never been seen again. 

No...no I don’t want that. Anything but that...please...

“...Okay. I’ll try to rest then.” Caelum climbed into bed, setting his glasses on the table beside him and made himself as comfortable as he could. 

Anton smiled, lightly ruffling his hair. “I’ll be right back, Caelum.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

With one last gentle touch, Caelum watched him go, a sharp pain deep in his chest as he saw that strong, confident frame disappear out the wing. He curled up tightly, covering his head with the blanket as he felt his entire face burn. 

Somehow, meeting Anton Perun had been the best luck of his life. 

And the worst luck just the same.

[annoyed-tampon-blog]

Sniper Goes Camping- 2

Sniper was going to drive this van off a cliff. He swore it. He was going to tie up Scout with the spare rope he had in the back and ditch the van and let it drive full speed off and over a cliff. Then he’d be in peace and quiet after his car blew up in an (EPIC!) explosion. But then he’d be minus Scout AND his van. So he decided, multiple times, to not do it. Losing the camper wasn’t worth it if he had no way back home. That and killing a team member outside of base wasn’t worth the loss of his hard earned job. And it’s barely even been an hour since they left Teufort.

“C'mon, man! This sucks! This ain’t even music!” Scout complained about everything, from the lack of air conditioning, the bad taste in Sniper’s music (which, the Sniper had, a limit to a few genres) and anything Scout’s big mouth can pick up and push out words.

Sniper just growled as he continued to look straight at the road, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. They were heading out of a town for a quick pit stop, anything to get Scout to shut up. After a greasy pretzel and two hot dogs, things were quiet for about, oh… ten minutes?

“My car, my radio,” Sniper replied through gritted teeth. To pass his anger out to something else, he “headshot” his bobble head on the dash. The more Scout whined and bitched, the faster and sharper Sniper flicked the bobble head.

Shortly after, Scout finally managed to keep his mouth shut once he started looking around the van. An apricot air freshener that had long since expired was hanging on the rear-view mirror, an empty ashtray on the mantle (who knew Sniper smoked?) and the bobble head that Sniper was flicking, which Sniper started to give a break from since Scout started to shut up.

“So…” Scout started, thinking about what to say. He actually didn’t really know a lot of his teammates, but they know plenty about Scout, since he was always boasting about himself. “What made ya become an assassin?”

“Well, that’s uh… a good question,” Sniper said, a little bit surprised that somebody such as Scout asked. “Well, it’s challenging work. It’s out of doors. I guarantee you’ll not go hungry. High pay, too. I’d say my job is worth it. ‘Cause at the end of the day, long as there’s two people left on the planet, someone is gonna want someone dead. But why did I want to become one? I guess because I have the balls to do the dirty work for somebody else that’s too scared to do it. Of course my parents don’t approve of it. Dad sayin’ I’m a crazed gunman. I’m an assassin, there’s a difference. One’s a mental job and the other’s sickness.”

“So, some rich asshats that wanted somebody dead calls ya up all because ya throw piss?” Scout said as he raised a brow.

Sniper growled a little bit. “No. It’s because it’s better than workin’ on the farm gettin’ my family nowhere in life. At least with Mann Co. I don’t have to worry about other blokes gettin’ my head as revenge all because I killed a few bigwigs back in the day.”

“Wait, you have other guys after ya?” Scout asked, his interest piped up.

“Who knows, mate.” Sniper shrugged as he turned the van onto a highway ramp. “Might still be lookin’ for me after all these years or, to them, I’m off the face of the earth.”

._._._.

Back at the base, Soldier was bellowing and barking orders at his teammates. Today was a “Surprise Drill” as he screamed out earlier, but training was anything but “surprising” as a few teammates snuck out from the “drill”. Spy cloaked and went on his way to see a particular lover in Boston; Medic went back into his lab to tend to his doves (and maybe some experimentations of some sorts); and Demoman passed out and took a snooze on the training grounds. The only ones that had any interest in this “Surprise Drill” were the Engineer, Pyro and Heavy. Heavy only agreed to participate, to make “Soldier shut big mouth worse than Scout’s” while Pyro chased butterflies around the field and Engineer took out a remote that brought forth robotic dummies he made.

“Solly, I thought we’d have some fun and try out my new test dummies. The one’s made of straw that you made is nice and all, but they don’t last long against Pyro’s flare guns or Sasha. That and it’s a pain to sew patches into them once their "guts” spill out. We can dress them up and use them to scare away the crows in the gardens,“ Engineer said as the robots stood in a line, ready for their command.

"Those blasted crows, always eating our crops. Alright, ladies! After training we’ll get the crows crapping their pants once we get these maggots fit and ready for battle! Never again will they think to eat our corn!” Soldier turned his fist to the sky and shook it. “DO YOU HEAR ME?! YOU BASTARDS WILL LEAVE OUR AMERICAN RAISED CORN ALONE!”

Pyro showed their excitement with rapid hand clapping and making a noise that sounded like giggling and even bounced up and down in place. Engineer got Soldier and the bots, a few other Soldier robots, ready for training. Engie pressed a button and the Soldier bots roared to life. Soldier smirked and cracked his knuckles, drew his shovel and screamed, racing toward the bots, a mighty shovel over his head.

TWACK! Went the shovel against a metal head. The impact left a dent in the bot, but it didn’t stop. The bot also took a turn to attack, punching Soldier straight in the gut, causing Soldier to double over, curling into a ball whilst standing. But he didn’t back down; Soldier straightened up, grabbed the bot by the head and screamed:

“HUTTUH!” NECK SNAP! went the robot’s head, sparks flickering from where the wires were ripped off. Soldier drop kicked the robot’s head in victory, accidently hitting Demoman, who started to wake up from his drunken slumber, causing him to pass out from the impact a moment after. Pyro took Demo to see Medic as Engineer regretted letting Soldier train with the bots. Neck snapping and bolts flying everywhere. Oh, well. At least Engie can test out that new magnet to find those stray screws and bolts later.

“Heavy is next, da?” Heavy asked as he looked to Engineer.

“Yeah, you’re up, Heavy. Lemme just shut down the rest of the bots and you’ll be next,” Engineer replied. He shut down the remaining robots, while Soldier was chomping on one of their arms like a mad dog, and let Heavy choose which bot to train against.

Heavy chose to deal with agility, as his size made him a tad slow in that department, so he let Engineer send out a Scout bot. Heavy wanted to get better at dealing with the faster foes, especially because of his size and stature, and to get “revenge” on Scout for being such a nuisance. Heavy cracked his neck and knuckles, loosening his body and getting ready to attack. Engineer pressed a button and the Scout bot beeped to life. Immediately the Scout bot dodged Heavy’s punch, which landed close to the ground, and smacked Heavy upside the head, like how a typical Scout would.

“MISSED ME!” cried the bot, who ran circles around Heavy.

Heavy rubbed his head a little and growled. He cried out and continued to punch, but all he got was air as his foe. The Scout bot was quick and agile, barely skipping a beat. But a misstep caused the bot to stumble, letting Heavy get a punch in the chest for the bot, who was sent flying into a wall nearby. The robot flinched a little, tried to get up, but found himself stuck in the wall. Heavy walked over and smirked as he crossed his arms, looking down at his opponent in victory.

“Nice one, Heavy. Wanna go another round?” Engineer asked, getting ready to call out another able bot.

“Nyet. Heavy will go tend to Sasha,” Heavy replied as he headed back to base. He waved to Engineer as he walked back, a look of pride on his face.

Engineer shrugged a little and cleaned up the mess (and tried to get Soldier to stop chomping on a dislodged arm before he ruined his teeth further) from the training. Carefully, he got the bots he was able to salvage into a trolley and rolled it back to his lab. A few pieces were still good, so they could be recycled to make a toaster or a microwave while those that were too damaged were melted into Scrap. The rest were left alone or replaced, as to save the bots and Engineer’s time to not make more than need be.

“Mighty fine work,” Engineer nodded to himself. “Might wanna adjust the fluctuator on them real quick, since some of 'em might have gotten dislodged.” Engineer continued to muse to himself on the bot’s conditions, whistle a tune here and there as he set to work.

After a few hours of work, Engineer removed his goggles and helmet and wiped his face with a clean rag. “I wonder how Sniper is holdin’ up with Scout?” Just after he asked that, the phone rang. Engineer went to the phone and picked it up, wiping his hands with the rag. “Yello’?”

“Hey, mate.”

“Hey, Sniper! Ya’ll make it to the camp yet?” Engineer smiled when he realized who the voice was.

“Er… not quite. Y'see, the van’s engine blew…”

“Really? How?” Engineer asked, curious as he helped Sniper put in a new engine right before they left.

“Let’s just say… a few "old friends” came to visit.“ Sniper replied unsurely. "We took care of 'em, but we’re kinda stuck in B.F.E. Luckily we made it to a town with a garage before the engine totally gave out, so Scout and I are gunna stay here for a few hours and head back on the road once she’s all fixed up. Shouldn’t take too long, maybe two hours or so.”

Sniper leaned against the wall, phone in hand, as he looked behind him. He and Scout went to a diner that was close by, so they would wait and have a bite to eat. Scout was at their booth, stuffing his face with fresh coconut cream pie, as he flirted with their waitress, who looked around thirty or so, and didn’t look too amused by Scout’s advances. Sniper ignored Scout as the Waitress splashed Scout with a glass of water over a sexual remark and went back to the conversation with Engie.

“How’s the rest of the guys there since we’ve been gone? Who won the bet so far?”

“Nobody yet. Well, Demo lost his bet of Scrumpy, so now he’s sayin’ Scout’ll be back within a day. Medic says Scout’ll come back with rabies he can treat with a new injection he’s been makin’ and Pyro says he’d have a lot of fun on the trip. At this point it’s anyone’s guess. Is Scout behavin’?”

“Scout? Behaves? 'Course not. He just got splashed by the waitress over his "moves”. Now I gotta leave an extra nice tip for the inconvenience.“ Sniper sighed. "The sooner we get the camp the sooner I can relax.”

“What about them "friends”?“ Engineer asked. "They still around ya think?”

“Who knows, mate. Probably. And I wouldn’t be surprised if there’d be more. But.” Sniper straightened up as he crossed his free arm over his chest. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Got some MedKits and whatnot so we should be alroight. Anyways, I better go before Scout gets into more trouble.”

“Alrighty then. See ya in a few days, Sniper.”

“Cheers, mate. See ya later.”

Sniper hung up the phone and went back to Scout, who was now dabbing his soaked shirt with some napkins from the dispenser at their table. Sniper sat down across from Scout and looked over the menu. He ignored Scout as best as he could while he looked over the lunch specials. He might just settle for a cup of coffee or three and have a bit of toast, to be honest.

“Sheesh, I tell her she’s got a nice bod for a single mom and she splayshes me!” Scout grumbled as he continued to dab at his shirt and wipe his face.

“Maybe she’s already got a husband.” Sniper replied with s shrug.

“Yeah, I didn’t see no ring on her finger.” Scout sighed heavily and looked over the menu. “So, what we gunna do if those guys come back? Who were they anyways?”

“They’re probably some bigwig’s henchmen or somethin’ to get revenge. Who knows. But what we’ll do is we’ll get 'em if they mess with us again. I guarantee that.”

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

Fraxus Anastasia au #5

Here’s the ao3-link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144866

Summary: “Does anyone have a map?" "Nah", Freed says in a blasé manner. Maybe the bastard doesn't care about dying all that much, but Laxus would like to live a little bit longer, thank you very much. "We don't need it", he continues and Laxus scoffs. "Hey man, control your hubris." 

Chapter under the cut!

When Laxus comes to, it's not in a nice, warm and cosy room with blankets wrapped around him. Instead, it's with his face or rather his whole body half-buried in the snow. Some confused part of him thinks it's quite cosy and warm anyway. He debates closing his eyes and going to sleep, but a brutal twack to the head bars him from doing so. "What do you think you're doing?" Freed yells before lifting him on his feet.

With his brows settled in a frown, Freed brusquely dusts of Laxus' poor excuse for a coat. "Dumbass", is all he says before tugging him along to meet up with Bickslow and Evergreen. Those two greet them with varying degrees of enthusiasm. "Babes!" Bickslow yells before throwing his lanky arms around both of their shoulders. Ever opts to punch the nearest one of them (unfortunately, Laxus) and pout. "Don't do stupid shit like that again. Why did you guys wait that long? "

"We we're enjoying the scenery for a little while longer", Freed says before Laxus has to go and explain himself. "The snow, the crumbling bridge, the utter drama of it all." He bats his ridiculously long lashes at that and Evergreen moves over to give him a punch to the shoulder as well. "Of course you dragged this poor man into your ludicrous schemes", she grumbles as Freed laughs her concerns off.

Looking around, Laxus can't see anything but a white wasteland. Snow surrounds them from all sides and there are no indications of where they could possibly be. He starts to fear that they only postponed their deaths and that they would encounter a slower, more agonising one. The others haven't seem to have realised this, caught up in bickering over something or other. "Guys?" When they turn their attention to him, he waves at the white surrounding them. "How are we going to find our destination? Does anyone have a map?"

"Nah", Freed says in a blasé manner. Maybe the bastard doesn't care about dying all that much, but Laxus would like to live a little bit longer, thank you very much. "We don't need it", he continues and Laxus scoffs. "Hey man, control your hubris."

"It isn't hubris", Freed counters and squats down to write something in the snow. Very quickly Laxus realises that he isn't writing, but drawing. Soon a map appears and Laxus has to admit that the man knows his stuff. It's meticulously detailed and he raises his hands in surrender. "You win, just get us out of here please."

"I will", he promises, "and I wasn't trying to brag. You looked a bit worried and I wanted to alleviate that feeling a bit." It's surprisingly thoughtful coming from Freed. As Laxus is about to give him his reluctant gratitude, Freed slaps his arm hard and grins obnoxiously. "Also, if I were trying to brag, you'd instantly know. My dear Laxus, my hubris could move mountains."

Instead of being irritated, Laxus can't help but be amused at Freed, standing knee deep in the snow, proclaiming that he would fistfight God if given the chance. Interrupting Freed's passionate speech about his own arrogance, he throws his arm around the man and gives him a noogie. "You're nothing but a loser with a big vocabulary, ain't ya?"

"That's blasphemy!" Freed protests and Laxus rolls his eyes. "Whatever, whatever. Let's go already, it's not getting any warmer." With a confidence that's completely unfounded, Laxus turns into a direction, striding away, hoping that it'll inspire the others to finally move already. It doesn't. "Laxus darling?" Freed calls out in that tone of his that spells annoyance for Laxus. "Sweetie, you're going the wrong way. You should know that, the defective bridge is in that direction. You know, the one we were unfortunately heading to?"

"Just lead the way and shut up, please."

"Since you asked so nicely."

Surprisingly, they reach a town around the evening. Although it's not very grand, a quick look through the windows of some shops tells Laxus that the place certainly is expensive. He whistles as he sees a particularly outrageous price for a dress and Evergreen comes to stand next to him to see what the fuss is about. When she spots the price tag, she shrugs. "It's normal. This is a tourist town, famous for its fashion, quaint panorama and terrific food."

"Shame we won't be enjoying it", Laxus muses, "We don't have the money for it. Hearing those words, Bickslow turns around with a big grin. "Laxus, Laxus, Laxus", he tuts, "Money is no issue for those with fast fingers." Although Laxus certainly doesn't disagree, he does wonder what their grand scheme is. "Should you guys really be dragging a royal into the criminal life? No offense, but you guys are a little bit shady."

"A little bit?" Freed's voice sounds disbelieving. He turns to Bickslow and Evergreen. "Would you look at that, we we're doing better than I expected!" Evergreen hides her smile behind her hand in an attempt to save Laxus' dignity a little bit. "We're doing so well that he nearly promised us his first born", she giggles and Bickslow holds out his hand. Unsure of what he's supposed to do, Laxus takes. Suddenly Bickslow's face turns serious as he pulls Laxus close. "Baby, you just signed a contract by taking this hand", he says, voice uncharacteristically grave. "Seeing as you trust us that much, from now on I'll entrust something to you as well."

With his free hand, Bickslow reaches behind him, grabs an unsuspecting Freed by the collar and unceremoniously shoves him against Laxus. "Here you go, my own firstborn child." Dramatically, Freed blinks and stretches his arms out towards Bickslow. "Mommy, please don't give me to the strange man! He reeks of sweat and he looks like a mountainboar! He'll eat me for sure!" Laxus rolls his eyes. "Yep. I'll swallow you whole", he says interrupting their inpromptu theatre.

The phrase makes Freed choke on his spit, his cheeks flushing a deep red that's very visible on his pale skin. Bickslow outright guffaws and Ever lets out a little "Oh my". The exact phrasing of his own words hit him at that moment and he shoves Freed away. "You are all nasty. Mainly you", he says and points at Freed. "Nasty, nasty gremlin boy."

"I am not a gremlin boy!" Freed yells back, getting a bit heated. "Getting called nasty, I can live with, but I am no gremlin! I refuse to be adressed as such." Laxus tauntingly pats the man's head. "But you can't refuse. Here's a royal order for the two of you." Evergreen and Bickslow listen in amusement. "You are to call him nasty gremlin boy at any and all times. For all you know, it is his name now. Amen."

"Amen", they chorus and as per royal order, he-who-was-formerly-known-as-Freed is getting pestered by all three of them until he tells them that he'll leave them to sleep out in the streets if they don't knock it off. Since this implies that he-who-is-now-again-known-as-Freed can actually get them a room somewhere, they promptly shut up and bury the nickname for later use.

Once Laxus is laying on the bed in the room Freed's managed to score for him, he wonders how Freed had done it. Looking around, he can see that the room (and the whole inn) had been made for people with a lot of money and he doesn't think that any of the people he's travelling with have that. The bed he's laying on is so comfortable and soft, that it's very likely that he'll never move from there again.

"Sup buddy", Bickslow whispers as he tiptoes into the room. "We decided that I'd be your roommate for a couple of days, I hope you don't mind." Laxus shakes his head. "It's fine. Ever would probably like her privacy and if I had to room with Freed, one of us would have killed the other before dayrise. It would've been a gruesome scene."

"Not if Freed was the culprit", Bickslow winks and Laxus is too tired to think about the implications. He gives a simple thumbs-up instead. "You mind if I use the shower first?" Bickslow asks and Laxus blinks slowly. "Don't care", he mumbles before yawning. "I'm going to stay here forever."

"You do that baby", Bickslow laughs before disappearing into the bathroom. Curling up into a ball, Laxus makes himself comfortable. It's easy with the soft mattress, although it is very warm. He drifts off regardless of the heat.

When he wakes up, the heat is unbearable, but the cold he's simultaneously feeling doesn't allow him to put the blanket away. He's deeply uncomfortable, but too sleepy to think about what his next course of action should be. His thoughts are a muddled mess and unable to make sense of them, he tries to fall back asleep. Instead, he keeps toeing the line between being awake and slumbering and it doesn't make his feel any better.

The door of the bathroom opens, bringing forth a warm gust of steam that does nothing to help relieve him. "Babe, you can use the bathroom if you want", Bickslow calls out and Laxus merely grunts in response. He doesn't think he could leave the bed even if he wanted to. Hearing Bickslow approach, he painstakingly cracks open a single eye. A moment later, he feels a very warm hand on his forehead and he swats it away. "Stop that", he murmurs and Bickslow complies. The sound of his footsteps removes itself from Laxus' vicinity and he barely hears the "Be right back!" before the door opens and closes again.

By the time the door reopens, Laxus is a sweating, shivering mess. His teeth are chattering violently and he's confused whether he's cold or not. Three sets of footsteps approach his bed and Laxus wished Bickslow hadn't made a public spectacle about him being sick. He should protest, but he hasn't got the strength nor will for it. "You guys should go eat, I'll handle this", one of them softly whispers and soon, it's only the two of them in the room. At this point Laxus is too far gone to recognise them and too far gone to care about any of it. He falls back asleep.

The hours? that follow are confusing to him. Between waking and slumbering he registers someone cooling him down with wet towels, their cold hands patting his head from time to time and the sense of calmth that comes over him when they do it makes his whole body unclench. Sometimes he can feel nightmares threatening at the edges of his mind, but his caretaker waves them away with a simple hand on his forehead or sweet, nostalgic lullabies hummed under their breath.

The time he spends awake is becoming longer, Laxus notices. Now, he's able to form somewhat coherent thoughts and the first thing he does, is try to pull himself upwards. Immediately, someone's pushing him back down. "I wouldn't do that if I were you", someone advises him and after a few moments Laxus recognises him to be Freed. "How are you feeling big boy?"

He tries to answer, but no sounds escapes his mouth. Seeing this, Freed offers him a cup of water and when Laxus takes a sip, he suddenly notices how parched he is. With big gulps, he downs the whole cup while Freed watches in amusement. "You don't do things in moderation, now do you?"

"Moderation makes life boring", he rasps as soon as he's caught his breath and Freed gives him a wink at that. "Well would you look at that, seems like there are things we can agree on." Between coughs, Laxus manages to get out: "We'd probably agree on a lot more if you weren't such a bastard."

"But where would be the fun in that? We just established that neither you nor I do things in moderation. Keep up with the schedule, my dearest Laxus." Freed draws himself closer, placing a familiar cool hand on Laxus forehead and keeps it there for what can only be a short while. It feels infinitely longer though and Laxus can feel himself heating up under his studious gaze. "Your fever had broken, but now it seems to be coming back." Then he looks Laxus right in the eyes, smile devious. "Or might there be another reason for your lovely red visage?"

Determined to not let Freed have the last laugh, Laxus reaches for the sweat-ridden pillow supporting his back. With one hand he quickly draws Freed closer and simultaneously he smushes the drenched pillow right into the man's face with his other hand. Instantaneously Freed starts yelling in absolute disdain and after he's wrestled himself free it turns into laughing as the two of them grapple for a while.

It shouldn't be as tiring as it is, but he's sick and Freed picks up on his weakening arms immediately. "Looks like playtime is over for this patient. I'll call Bickslow over and leave you to him."

"You aren't gonna stay?" He hates how vulnerable his voice sounds and how obvious it must be to Freed. "Nah, you stink", Freed answers seemingly completely oblivious to Laxus' little moment of weakness. It's probably for the better. "Goodbye, I'm going to take a nap", Freed says before waltzing out of the room.

Not even five minutes later Bickslow appears and the first words that tumble out of Laxus' mouth are: "Do I smell?" He suppresses the urge to facepalm at his own words. Frowning, Bickslow asks why he thinks so. Moping like a child (he chalks it up to being sick), he explains that apparently Freed's reason for leaving is his smell. As he's explaining Bickslow's face changes from concerned to amused until he's barely able to suppress his giggling.

"Is that what he said? If he was truly bothered by the smell of a sick person, he wouldn't have been taking care of you for the past seven days. That man has a flair for the dramatic, but I think he just needs a nap. He wouldn't allow himself to properly sleep before he knew you were okay though, so he must be walking on his last legs."

Now that he says that, Freed had been looking a bit pale himself and Laxus thinks he remembers dark circles under his eyes. He does wonder though, why the man was so adamant about taking care of him, seeing as Laxus mainly seems to be a form of entertainment to him. His hands had been so careful though when nursing him back to health and his voice oh so sweet. Laxus decides to not dwell on it anymore, but he does fall asleep with the soft sound of Freed's voice in his mind.