#advantage of filling up even the hard-to-reach cracks and crevices. These small

[petite-ely]

Afraid // JJ Maybank

five - but what if?

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem routledge! reader

Warnings: bad language (don’t swear kids), mention of drowning, mention of death, nightmares, mention of guns, mention of fight, did I miss something.

Description: after his reckless actions at the party, JJ is unable to sleep but he isn’t the only one still awake.

A/n : I don’t want to make this longer than it already is, I think I’ve talked enough lol. If for some reason you want to know why I’ve been gone for so long I’ve written a post regarding it. Sorry again for not posting in so long. If you want to chat, feel free to reach out. I’m friendly. :) please kindly tell me if I’ve made some mistakes, I’ve reread this like a hundred times but its possible some mistakes slipped.

Previously next

Afraid masterlist

Gif by @cobrazkai

Song recommendation

JJ Maybank was 14 years old when he first realized that he had feelings for one of his best friends. The thing is he didn’t know what the hell those feelings were. He had always thought that y/n was really pretty and he considered her to be one of her closest friends and that was it. Friends- that’s what they were.

But after years of friendship and wild adventures and basically hanging out 24/7, something felt different. And boy, did that scare him.

JJ was not the kind of person to be really in touch with his emotions. Being abandoned by his own mother and living with an abusive alcoholic father didn’t really help either. If anything, his past traumas only made him more disconnected from his emotions and feelings.

He might’ve been hot headed and impulsive but that didn’t stop him from feeling things, often even too deeply. The issue was naming the emotions he was feeling. He didn’t know what he was feeling like half of the time. So when it came to y/n, his feelings for her were so intense and unknown. He had never felt this way for anyone before. He was so confused.

Being around her felt weirdly homely and yet, he never really had a real home to come to. For him, it was only a house. It was a building with things he wasn’t really attached to and a man he couldn’t really call a father, despite DNA saying otherwise. Being with her felt warm and golden and it was like a drug he couldn’t say no to. He was constantly looking for ways to feel this specific way. It was euphoric. But he only felt this way when he was around her. And it felt like home.

She was the home he wanted to come to every freaking night. And he wanted to dance with her and have night long discussion and caress her cheeks tenderly. He wanted to kiss her more than anything else, his lips on hers staying that way until one of them needed to take a breath - oh what heavenly feeling that must be. He wanted to proclaim his feelings to the entire island - the entire world even.

Only he couldn’t. There was this rule, and he couldn’t break it. Usually, he wasn’t the kind of person to let rules determine what he should and shouldn’t do. But it was the pogue rules, he couldn’t break them. He couldn’t do that to his friends, regardless of his own feelings.

Love. That’s what his feelings were. It took him some time to realize it, but yeah, it was love. He was certain of it (which was rare for JJ). A first love, innocent, deep and one sided. At least that’s what he thought. How could she love him? How could anyone love him when even his own father didn’t? Who would want him?

Now, JJ had messed, big time.

He was sitting beneath a tree, at the edge of the yard whims the château, a few feet away from where the water started. His gaze was turned towards the sunrise though he wasn’t really looking at the magnificent show of colours that nature was offering him. He was thinking or more like regretting.

He kept replaying the event that had happened just a few hours ago on the boneyard again and again in his mind. The arrogance on John B’s face while he taunted the kooks, the empty, psychotic look on Topper’s face while he was holding J.B’s head underwater, his own hand holding the gun against Topper’s head. It felt so powerful at the moment and yet in retrospect he felt so stupid. What would he have done if something had actually happened, if someone had gotten hurt because of him?

In the spur of the moment, he hadn’t thought about it really much. How crazy it actually was. He saw his friend in a situation where he could actually die and only thought about helping him. He had this thing with him that could help save him, an object that take could take someone’s life in the matter of seconds. So he used it at his advantage. He had only wanted to help, but at what cost.

He kept picturing the expression on y/n’s face when he got the gun out. It wasn’t anger, no it was much worse, she was terrified. She had actually been scared of him. How could he ever make up for that. How he could he ever admit what he was feeling for her after he had brought her such terror. He had ruined everything.

What if she never forgot that moment? What if she never forgave him?

A branch cracked somewhere in the distance, and JJ turned to face whoever, or whatever, was lurking in the dark. He was blinded by the bright artificial light of a flashlight. “JJ?” A voice spoke and the blond immediately recognized it. Y/n.

“Can you please turn it off, I don’t think it’s necessary,” he responded, motioning to the clarity that brought the sunrise. It was light enough for them to fully see one another.

“Oh, yeah, sorry, “-she sat down beside him- “Couldn’t sleep?” JJ stared at her for a moment before taking his eyes away.

“Yeah, you could say that. What about you? John B snoring too loud?” Y/n gave a small laugh.

“Um, no, not this time.” Her smile went down. “I had a nightmare.” JJ’s brows furrowed.

“Not about um, not about tonight right?” He asked, guilt hidden in the tremors of his voice.

Images of the past night filled y/n’s mind. Her brother being held under water, JJ pulling the gun out, the loud echoing sound of the firearm as it shot in the air. She could still hear it ringing slightly in her ears.

A small moment went by before she finally shook her head in denial, earning a small sigh of relief from the blond (at least that wasn’t his fault, he already felt guilty for so many things). “No, uh, no it wasn’t that,” she said, her voice barely audible.

JJ stared at her face in the golden light of this early morning. He noticed the blank stare in her eyes and frowned. Nightmares, although worrying for most people, were pretty common for y/n. JJ of course knew this, yet something felt odd.

He rested his hand on the small part of her back between her shoulder blades. “Do you want to talk about it?” She turned her head to meet his eyes, the feeling of his skin, warm and soft against hers sending small tingles at the base of her neck.

She didn’t want to bother him with her problems, she knew how horrible his home life was compared to what she was living. She didn’t want to remind him of this not make him feel bad about her small problems when he was facing such violence on a daily basis. Still, she knew JJ and talking about his dad was the last thing he wanted to do. And his eyes, his beautiful ocean blue eyes, it’s like they could see through her. How could she lie to him?

“I, uh I-I-“ his hand went to her shoulder and he squeezed it reassuringly. “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.” Y/n felt her cheeks burning (hopefully he didn’t notice it). She took a moment to breathe in deeply the fresh air, calming herself slightly before putting her hand on his.

“No, I-I want to. I think it’ll help, in a way.” JJ cracked a sweet smile. “Alright then.”

“I keep having this one dream about my dad and I see him on his boat wandering. He’s lost in the middle of the ocean and he’s calling my name.” Saying those words, she really felt as though she could hear her father calling her name in the far distance, as if he was right beside her. Sadly, it was only her imagination playing tricks on her.

“And it keeps turning to this nightmare, where he dies in various horrible ways. Either drowned or starved or eaten by sharks.” JJ’s gaze softened, his eyes admiring her lips forming each words one after the other. “But tonight-“ she let go of his hand, shifting her body to face him completely, “-tonight, for a reason, I didn’t see him.”

“The boat was empty.”

Flashes of her nightmare came back to her like waves crashing on the beach. Her dad on his boat, a smile sketched on his lips. The sky is clear blue, not a cloud is in sight. There’s a warm breeze, she can almost feel it on her skin, and the sun is shining. It’s almost utopian, the perfect day to spend out in the sea.

Then the scene changes. The sky darkens to a deeper shade of blue, grey clouds towering the ocean. The wind is stronger, much stronger. It whistles as it makes its way in the crevices between each tree and threatens to tear the sails down. And the boat, she can see it floating hauntingly on the wild waves the same way a ghost would in abandoned castle. And there’s no trace of her father. Not even a feeling, that would tell her he’s there, trying to survive this storm.

“What if he really is gone J? What if my dad-“ she stopped her sentence to look at the horizon, somehow hoping to see a sign that would prove she was wrong. “I’m trying so hard to be positive and optimistic, but it’s been so long. What if he never comes back?”

The look in her eyes was heart-wrenching. JJ didn’t know what to say or do. He never really thought about it. What would happen if Big John was gone. To be honest he didn’t want to, that man was more of father to him than his own ever was. And losing him would be... he preferred not to think about it.

“I disagree,” he finally said. “What?” “Your dad is like one of the smartest person I’ve ever known. I think that, he, of all people would know how to get out of any situation, especially if it seems impossible to everyone else. I don’t think that you should give up on him yet.”

“You really think so?”

“Yes, I do,” he smiled. “So fuck everyone who tells you otherwise,“ y/n giggled. “Fuck all of them! You’re allowed to have hope, y/n, even after this much time. They can’t take that from you.”

“In the meantime, we’ll there’s us,” us, “the pogues, our own family. We can get through anything, right?”

“Yeah, we can.” Y/n’s head fell on his shoulder. “We’re the pogues.”

JJ admired her carefully. How her face looked, basked in the golden rays of the sun, looking so terribly tired and yet so beautiful. He could stay like this forever, losing himself completely in her smile. God she was so wonderful.

“Hey y/n/n?” “Yeah?” “Are you mad at me?” “Huh?”

“Why would I be ma- oh, oh.” The gun. He thought she was mad at him for what he did. Though he saved her brother, didn’t he? So, she didn’t understand why he would think she could hate him.

“It’s just that you looked so terrified when-” “You saved him JJ, that’s what matters most.” Y/n interrupted the boy mid sentence, placing her hand on his arm in gratitude. “If you hadn’t done anything, he could have...” she didn’t finish her sentence.

When she saw JJ holding the firearm against Topper’s head just a few hours ago, she had first been incredibly shocked. She didn’t recognize the JJ she knew. But now, she completely understood. It was his way of protecting his friends, his way of showing he cared. And that, she admired him for it. Though he could’ve shown it in a less dangerous way.

“I admit,” she added, “it was dangerous and a bit scary to see and we’re probably gonna get some kind of revenge from the kooks soon, but no one got hurt. And J.B, well he’s okay! We’re all okay!”

“Also, I’m pretty sure I did some very, very stupid things last night, so I can’t really be mad at you,” she cringed remembering the amount of alcohol influenced things she had said and done during the party. “God, I must have looked so ridiculous.”

JJ laughed at her comment. “Yes, yes you did.” “Man, John B was right, I can’t believe I’m saying this.”

“Can you just promise me something?” Asked y/n, once their laughter had died. “Depends what?”

“Promise me you’ll never hurt yourself with that thing, or anyone else for that matter.”

“I promise, y/n. ”

“Thank you.”

Taglist

@deionswannabegirl @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @poguestyle17 @im-a-stranger-thing @lasnaro @thoughtsofthestars @briandaflores19 @lunaposey @allycat449-blog @ifilwtmfc @kitty084 @coloradogirl07 @ponyboys-sunsets @chaoticbisous @p0gue420 @sloaneemily

If I forgot you or if you wanna be added/removed just tell me! Also I’m sorry if your name didn’t work :/

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels

*SHORT SERIES

Member: SAAN

Genre: angst, *TW* suicide/depression (what’s new)

you were far away from the nearest convenience store, far away from any roads whatsoever. the track wasn't abandoned or out of operation, no. it just so happened that the time gaps trains left their stations were nearly an hour before and after one another. It gave you plenty of time to roam and drag your feet against the rails without a care in the world.

the wire of your earpiece was dangling away from your chest, the large, black hoodie hugging you loosely as you look down at your knees through your ripped jeans.

"I wish i never had you."

you heard your mother's voice echo in the back of your head, cuing you to look up into the dark, night sky. You raised your hand, looking through your fingers at the stars in the dark blue canvas.

"my life would've been so much easier without you."

you let a pathetic smile form in the corner of your lips, looking back down at your shoes and balancing yourself on the narrow surface of the railways. whatever your mother said never hurt you anymore, not after you've suffered the last 20 years of it. sometimes you wish you could run away and start a new life, but where were you going to get the money from? Where were you going to sleep? What were you going to eat?

that was when you thought: if nothing could hurt me, then life has no meaning.

you took a step onto the middle of the track, barely catching a glimpse of the train's headlight half a kilometre away from you. reaching into your hoodie's pocket, you find the volume buttons to turn up the music, not caring if it destroyed your eardrums.

nothing could hurt you anymore. and after this, nobody could.

you shut your eyes, barely hearing the honk of the train blaring in your face when you felt yourself being aggressively yanked backwards by your arms. your earpiece fell out in the process, the earbuds falling to the tracks and getting caught in the gears of the metal, crushes by the train. your elbows were pressed into the damp, dead leaves on the ground, your eyes flashing as the train zipped by you, barely two metres away from your nose.

why am i not dead yet? why am i not dead yet? why am i sitting here? i should be torn apart on the track--

you hurry to your feet, shoving the person who pulled you away from the track backwards while you stumbled to your feet.

"what's wrong with you?! can't you see i'm trying to fucking die here?!" you scream your head off at him, nothing but anger filling your veins and your head. you've already exhausted all the tears left in you crying over how much your mother hated you, so all that's left was emptiness and anger. the boy on the floor had a look of pain and pity painted onto his face, his eyes carefully studying you as you tremble in your stance, glaring down at him and into his soul.

"motherfucker," you huff between your teeth, hissing as the last cabin zooms past behind you. you press your palms flat over your hood on the back of your head, looking at the train with a strong look of disappointment, looking at it like you just missed the winning ticket for lottery.

"For fuck's sake!" You start yelling, rushing back onto the track and the small rocks nearly tripping you. "fucking hell, come back! i'm RIGHT HERE! since the whole world fucking HATES me, why don't you just let me leave in fucking peace!?" You could feel a vein pop out on your neck as you scream into the ground and into the sky.

"you put me through all this pain, god..." you fall to your knees, the frown on your forehead refusing to dissipate as you take a rock and hurl it aimlessly elsewhere. "put me through this fucking pain--"

you hurl another rock away, agitated.

"and yet refuse to let me take my own life--"

you grab a handful of rocks and swing it into the air.

"where are your fucking guts?!" you got back to your feet, violently kicking away at the rocks and completely ignoring the fact that there was someone else at the scene. "Huh?!"

"you put me all these ordeals and yet you don’t have the fucking guts to take my life?! How is this fair?!" you shout towards the sky, your hood finally coming off to reveal your messy hair. you could feel your face burning from all the screaming, and your hands were grazed with a thin layer of rock sediment and dust.

the boy watches on as you fall to your knees again, gritting your teeth while picking up rocks and mindlessly throwing them somewhere else.

you were so absorbed in hurling rocks that you flinched when you felt someone's hand land on your shoulder. you lift a fist and grabbed the rim of his hoodie, ready to smash your fist upwards into his chin. you had no problem taking on a male--

he grabs both wrists and pushes you around so you were back-facing him. you felt a muscle being pulled somewhere, and a sharp pain shoots up your shoulder when he keeps one arm behind your back and the other up between your shoulder blades.

you wince in pain, whining aggressively and trying to shift your torso to loosen his grip, but whatever you did only made him pull your right arm higher up between your shoulder blades. Your back was arched, in attempt to reduce the amount of pull he had on your arm that was in the lock.

"do you feel the pain?"

you huff angrily, gritting your teeth so hard you thought you could crack your own molars.

"Do you?" he asks again, giving you a small jerk by tightening the pull on the arm lock he had you in. you growled in pain, finally realizing that there was nothing you could do, lest you let him rip your arm out of its socket.

"of course it hurts like fuck, asshole."

"then remember that. pain means life. pain means that you are made of flesh and bone, and if you believe god has anything to do with your circumstances, then you better believe god made you for a reason too."

you grind your teeth against each other, very, very pissed off. once you felt his grip on your arms loosen, you whirl around to grab his hoodie, using your body weight to your advantage as you push him into the floor. he grunted in pain when his back hits the rough earth, watching you climb onto him to keep him pinned down. you wrestle with him and his arms because you just want to slap the shit out of this guy.

"should've just let me die, son of a bitch--" you menacingly warned, your hands only making contact with his arms as he skillfully blocks all your blows. you found your wrists in his grasp again as he carefully studies your blank, emotionless expression. but you were giving off nothing but anger and frustration. 

“i know how you feel.”

he says with a tinge of pity in his voice. you try to struggle out of his grip, but to no avail. he’s just trying to get into your head.

“no, fuck you. you just don’t want to see a fucking corpse--” you hissed and leaned back, trying to pull your arms away from him. but this move only gave him space to sit up and push you backwards, the roles reversed. he had his knees on either side of your waist, making sure he wasn’t putting any weight on you while your wrists were still trapped under his fingers.

“i’ve seen a corpse before,” he shakes his head at you. the hood over his head and his long fringe doesn’t reveal much emotion on his face. “ever been surrounded by them before?”

a tight frown forms in your head as you grit your teeth, the hard rocks under your head pushing themselves into your scalp as you kick your legs into the air.

“i was here two years ago because i lost my family in a car accident. i was the only one who survived.”

you stop struggling and processed his words, glaring back at him with hardened eyes that were on the verge of softening. you wanted to snap back at him and say that it was different. he lost his family to an accident, but you lost your only kin only because she doesn’t love you. it was different. 

but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it, not to him who had just chosen to keep your life grounded to earth. 

“i’m sorry,” you manage out through your throat. 

“someone saved me then, so now i want to save you. please--”

“no,” you start shaking your head in denial, starting to feel a sick ball being stuck in your stomach and your chest sinking in on itself as your mother’s face flashes in your head. “i have nothing to live for. please, just let me go.”

you try to struggle, but he only shakes his head and tries to pin your arms down while he sits back on your thighs.

“please, i’m begging you...” you thought it wasn’t possible anymore, but you could feel tears being collected in the corners of your eyes, falling along the sides of your face and into the crevices of your ears. “there’s nothing for me to live for anymore. so please, just let me go... please... oh my god...”

he looks down at you and watches you crumble into a million pieces like you weren’t already completely broken. the anger was now replaced with hurt and devastation, and you couldn’t do anything but sob and whine under this stranger’s weight. 

“give it one more chance, will you?” he nearly whispers, his face now inches away from yours as he leans forward. his eyes were long and narrow through his hair, and there was a strange scent of some diffuser’s scent coming off him, like he’d just came from a hotel or a place filled with money and luxury. 

“and if it doesn’t work, i’ll let you go.”

your eyes snap back to give him the attention at his words. you were short of screaming ‘no’ into his face, but there was something about his hold on your wrists that were loosening. there was something about the way he looked at you like he knew what you were feeling inside, even if the circumstances were different. maybe he did know what you were feeling.

“i promise.”

it was like someone decided to pick up all your pieces and offered to patch them together. you had no clue how he was going to do it, but it sounded convincing enough for you to nod your head unwillingly. 

Part 2: Fly Away With Me

[teamred]

sweet nothings

requested by: anonymous | org. post

summary: day or night, your best friend, now current boyfriend, always keeps you enraptured. however, one morning is a little sweeter than the rest due to a small confession.  pairing: tom holland x reader  warnings: smut, unprotected sex, mention of thigh riding, fluff word count: 1.2k words

gif created by me | please credit if used

Saturday’s sun rays peeked through the window shades, making their way over the pillows and hovered you and your new lover’s faces. Your eyes twitched from the touch of the warmth before you awakened to flip your phone over to check the time. 

Tom may have been your newest lover and latest partner, but he definitely wasn’t a stranger to your bed, nor your life. 

It had been about a month since you two officially started to date. No one ever tells you what happens when you begin to date your best friend. The lead-up is the same—the flirting, the touches, the lightbulb moment—but the tension is so, so much different. You nearly jumped his bones at the end of the first date in the front seat of his car (inevitably, both of you made your way to the backseat later that evening). 

A smile blossomed upon your face as you turned to Tom, still sleeping peacefully. You carefully brushed a piece of loose hair away from his face. 

“Mmm, good morning, love,” he mumbled against your touch. 

Then, his eyes slowly peered open to take in the beautiful sight in front of him. Wanting him to be next to you, you turned over and pushed the back of your body against his. Warm, toned arms slinked above your waist before he fulfilled his goal; the intertwining of your fingers with his. 

“Did you sleep well?” 

You nodded and hummed to yourself while he kissed your shoulder. Biting your lip, you noted the rising pressure against your behind. Blurry flashbacks of last night played within your mind. 

Your back pushed up against the bedroom wall. Hands roamed from your neck, to your waist, to your thighs, and, of course, to your warmth. Fingers inside you, played with you until you unraveled. He was the conductor, and you were the loud orchestra following his lead. A few orgasms escaped, staining the walls with sin, even prior to you two reaching the bed. 

You were bent over, knees and hands on the bed. The smacks upon your bare ass echoed in the room. Tom had to ensure you knew you were his, and he was yours. Taking control, you changed it up and pushed him onto the bed.

The sensations of your clit against his thigh. Him pushing and angling his naked leg upward, creating more pressure and more pleasure. It was all too much, and you two were barely getting started. 

Looking down at him, grunting—”Fuck, I love your cock”—and riding said cock. Tom’s eyes switched between the view of his length being stroked by your perfect, wet pussy, your perfect tits bouncing, and your gorgeous face in ecstasy. You edged him, you edged him so God damn close. 

But it was his turn to change it up. Your man pinned you down, hands above your head, and rawed your pussy fast and hard before making your eyes roll to the back of your head one last time for the night. 

Unwillingly, but needing to stretch, Tom pulled away and pushed himself up, letting his upper body lean onto the headboard. Following suit and already missing his touch, you straddled the shirtless man and gave him a chaste peck on the lips. 

“Did you sleep well?” 

He nodded in response prior to grasping your neck, bringing you in for a sweet, deep kiss. You moaned softly, melting into it, and let your hands cup his cheeks. His morning wood never went away and became more prevalent adjacent to your own rising heat. Subconsciously, you began to grind into him in your panties. 

And moments later, like last night, you were on Tom’s cock again, except this time you wore his t-shirt and he sat up on the bed. The second he filled you, you sighed blissfully whilst leaning your head back. 

“Didn’t have enough of me last night, hm?” Tom remarked with a raise of an eyebrow. 

After you playfully smacked his arm, you held onto his shoulder as your other hand gripped the bedsheets for balance. You took your time, making sure he felt you on every inch of his cock with every movement. 

Taking advantage of your position, both of you crashed lips once again. There was no doubt the position increased intimacy, and the intimacy heightened the pleasure. No thoughts were needed; your hips fastened the pace. 

Now, you and Tom were forehead to forehead, panting on each other’s face between small, brief kisses between the riding. Somehow, your right hand found his left, linking together tightly. Tom used his free hand to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb against your skin. 

“God, you’re so beautiful, y’know that?” 

Your body shrunk downwards a little bit, including your cheek, which relaxed deeper into his palm. How did he have such a way with words? 

So intoxicated and immersed, your body left inhibitions and suddenly, three little words slipped out from your lips. 

Something in you froze. Time stood still in the cracks of your mind, despite your physical self still going up and down with Tom inside of you.

Neither of you had really expressed your love to each other yet, but it wasn’t far fetched to do so. Although you started dating not long ago, you two were friends for a while. Were I love you’s really out of the question? 

But what if Tom didn’t love you back? Was this too soon? 

A second later, your doubts were cooled when Tom answered your question. 

He nonchalantly, and without a speck of hesitation, said:

“I love you, too.” 

The handsome figure freed your hand. His fingers trailed from behind your neck, then down your back, before he reached for your waist, thumbing your back tenderly. From a mixture of both the intimacy and your need to peak, you opted to pick up the pace. 

For better leverage, you came close to his body. So close, his face was in the crevice of your neck and hair. You always worried your sweat or hair would get in his way, but Tom didn’t care. He never did. As long as you were the one with him in these moments, he couldn’t care less. 

As if reading your mind, Tom continued speaking in between your bounces, “I don’t-ugh-care if it’s too-fuck-soon. I love you with all my heart.” 

Your body bursted at the sound of his words. 

“Tom, Tom, Tom,” you repeated his name, a mantra falling off your tongue due to partially from the sex, but mostly from the confession. A knot pulsed faster and hotter in your lower abdomen. You arched your body as you came undone on his cock.   

Not wanting him to be frustrated nor to be unfair, you finished him off soon after, having his come mark and drip down your thighs. 

After the clean-up, you two fell backwards, panting side by side on the bed. You locked eyes one more time.  

“I love you,” Tom reached over and the tip of his fingers curled with yours. 

You reciprocated softly, “And I love you.” 

You shared a kiss, one longer than usual, then both of you put on clothes and got ready for the day ahead of yourselves. 

[the-headbop-wraith]

2_23 Stray Far

The numerous gloomy windows were long boarded up, some still glittered with tiny teeth not yet decayed out of the many gaping maws of each flat side.  Tall trees shimmered under the moonlight, thin gray branches unruly and overgrown reached skyward; while across the cracked and gray layers of stone, vines tangle and wind up the walls of the separate levels of the buildings surface.  One could almost mistake then structure to have been grown from the earth, rather carved from brick and wood.  

A multitude of tall spires stick from the rooftops edge glint briefly under the sheen of moonlight, spilling down from behind a thick swell of clouds prowling patiently across the black sky.  The mellow wind crooned through crevices along cracked rock walls and wood fences, built between brick walls that divide the sections of the building, its sleek cement foundation ends on the edge of a weed infested lawn.

The hospital seemed to loom now in the night, larger; even inviting the unwise explorer into its endless interior.

“All right, let’s splint up!” Vivi announced, rather dramatically.  She brought the finger she had directed skyward, and turned to indicate Arthur at her shoulder.  “You and Mystery.”  The dog at her feet yapped at the decision, Mystery’s red eyes flashed behind his spectacles.  He fully agreed.  “And I’ll keep an eye on Lewis.”  Arthur glanced behind Vivi toward the taller figure, as Lewis removed his sunglasses and stuck them into the jackets breast pocket.

“Still don’t trust me on my own yet?” Lewis inquired.  He caught the sideways smirk Arthur sent him.

“That’s part of it,” Vivi responds.  She spun on heel and returned to the back of the van, the doors left open from earlier when Arthur had climbed out.  

The small camping lamp sat between two backpacks, one was left open and stuffed with electronics.  Vivi opened up the other bag and reevaluated the supplies set inside, nothing remarkable by her personal standards – the walkie-talkie, some sage bundles, an EKG reader, and a few other items that probably wouldn’t get used on this investigation.

For this particular ‘adventure,’ the van was parked in the back loading zone of the hospital where equipment and patients would be received. The hospital had been built in the budding new center of town, but its surrounding cousin buildings had been reduced to new structures, offices, and the hospital itself was abandoned in its bubble of time and forgotten setting.  Its entire acreage of property was surrounded by a broken and haphazard chain-link fence set up after vandals began to break into the condemned structure, which as of yet had not received a date for demolition.  The fence was more of a deterrent than a barrier and the group had no problem unbinding the metal twine that connected the two sections of the fence, and prying them open so the van could be moved through.  Currently, the van was parked under the archway that stretched over the back entrance, concealed by shadows and nothing more.

“We probably won’t find much,” Lewis explained to Arthur, while Vivi poked around the supply bags.  “But with hospitals, you never know.”

Arthur glanced to the wood plywood shoved into the main entrance doors, the dingy moist air from within hovered in the cold fresh air of the night.  “Never know,” Arthur murmured, under his breath.  “Hospitals always have bad energy,” he went on.  “Why couldn’t we just check out that haunted hotel?  At least we’d have an idea about what lurks there.”

Lewis smirked.  “How ‘bout tomorrow night?  Hey Vi, what about the Lakeview tomorrow?  Arthur’s down with that.”  Arthur scoffed at that and made his way over to the aged wood.  In the poor light, he could already discern that there was a gap between the doors frame and the plywood.  “I’m only joshin’ you.”  Lewis followed Arthur.

“I read that loud and clear,” Arthur retorts.  “Even in the daylight, hospitals are creepy.  No matter how long they’ve been left.”  He pressed his good hand against the wood and felt brittle splinters twist under his fingers.

“What’s your gear?” Vivi broke in.  The subdued glow of light flashed under their gaze as Mystery padded by, carrying the camping lamp.  She gave Lewis a mild glare as she stepped between him and Arthur, she held her bag low for the crouched Arthur to see into.  “We shouldn’t need much.  Better safe than sorry.”

Arthur takes his time answering as he ponders over the inventory. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small container of gum in the little tin packets and cuts two free. The flavor is rough and not very pleasant but it helps.  “The sage and my lock picks.  The chalk too,” Arthur says, half distracted as he tests the tension of the board with a slight push.  “And maybe an air freshener.”  Maybe Lewis didn’t want to understand a lot of things, but Arthur would bring it up later if he was up to it.  There was a lot of material they skipped over whenever they talked, a lot of it was too soon for Arthur.  Later. “Thanks Mystery.”  Arthur gave Mystery’s head a rub and took the lamp from his teeth.  “The dust right here’s been disturbed.  Looks recent.”

Vivi knelt beside Arthur and touched the greasy layer of muck left in the doorway.  “We’ll be extra cautious.  It could just be the homeless.”  She glanced back up at Lewis, and the silhouette with his bright eyes bobbed.  “I doubt there’s some sort of cult in there.”

Arthur chuckled.  “But I’m here, so anything can happen.”  Vivi took the lamp from Arthur and returned to the van, leaving him and Lewis in the dull gloom.

“Just holler and I’ll be there,” Lewis encouraged.

“What you always say,” Arthur said.  “It’s not like I never do.”  Lewis shifted beside him, and Arthur almost recognized the movement but the familiar touch didn’t come.  The odd gap in reflex caught Arthur off-guard, but he thought Lewis had nearly recoiled. Or had Arthur been the one to jerk away? He brushed the sensation off and merely reached over to rub at his bad shoulder.  “Look after Vivi if I fuck up.”

“Language,” Lewis rattled.  Despite himself, Arthur snickered.  That at last sounded like Lewis.

Hospitals had potential.  It was hard to find a hospital that didn’t have some amount of activity, unless it was brand new and not built upon some sacred burial ground. The rooms and halls were intended to receive the ill and dying, new life and soon lost life; they were built in response to a wide scale of accidents, tragedy.  The roof concealed joy and sorrow and the walls were filled with regrets and miracles, and back in the day before modern medicine, the ratio of those brought in to enlighten ‘revolutionary’ medical practice sped up the rate of destruction rather than make comfortable those beyond healing redemption.  They were built to organize the placement of the doomed, before they were constructed to heal.

For Arthur, they held different significance.  Warped and terrible memories, sensations, but he kept this to himself.  Endurance was his advantage, concealment was his strength.

“Don’t get separated from Mystery,” Lewis reminded, as the group divided.  “He’ll keep you from getting lost.”  It was more of an assurance rather than a reminder.

Arthur clicked on his flashlight and turned the soft yellow beam onto Mystery’s bright pelt.  “I got it,” he called back.  “I’ll catch up in a few.”  Mystery led the way, and took immediate interest in an open hall that ran beside the corroded set of steps across from the carved wood receptionists desk; or what Arthur took as the receptionists desk, he wasn’t sure.

The light from Vivi’s flashlight was already darting up the set of steps that Arthur had bypassed.  “We’ll hit the higher floors, and work our way down,” Vivi hailed down. She motioned to Lewis and was gone, hurrying up the steps and around a corner.  Lewis called after Vivi with exasperation as she raced away.

Arthur paused to listen to Vivi’s thudding steps and tracked their progress from below.  Mystery’s sudden yap caused Arthur to wince, and at the involuntary reaction, the dog brought his sounds back into softer whimpers.  He forgot how jumpy Arthur could be, though the hospital felt quiet enough.  Mystery couldn’t be too sure.  

“I’m a lil tense,” Arthur admitted.  The light cut over the dust coated floor and alit on his partner for the evening, still giving small grumbles of apology.  “I’ll be okay.  Once we get moving I’ll feel better.  It’s not like we’re gonna find anything, huh?”

Mystery stiffened and perked his ears up.  When Arthur’s light nearly reached his face, the mutt wrenched away and began padding further down the corridor.  He put his nose down and distracted himself with tracking, his concerns set at ease while Arthur’s flashlight draped around his shoulders and bleached out the old chipped wood.

“We’re not gonna run into anything here, are we?” Arthur pressed again.  

A low ‘urf’ was Mystery’s response.  Nothing dangerous.  The dog’s well-worn toenails clicked with each step in a steady rhythm, thick silt grit between his dark toes.  Arthur’s steps were barely audible, cautious. At the halls end a set of doors had been left pried open, one had snapped off its hinge and lay slanted beside the wall.

Yellow light made pale blues appear moldy and drab.  Maybe the doors had always been depressing, maybe the hospital didn’t rely on optimistic colors to raise the mood of those that rolled through them.  Arthur reached out and rests a gentle hand on the edge of the door.  A loud Rrrr! sent him stumbling back from the door when it skid over the floor, only a fraction.  The wall rumbled at Arthur’s collision and the entire building, from the foundation to the roof seemed to shudder in irritation at the sudden disruption of placid rot.  Arthur pants and pressed the torch against his chest, as his breath heaved.

Mystery sprang in place and performed a complete three-sixty to face Arthur, eyes wide and white fur bristled on his shoulders.  

“Sorry,” Arthur spat.  “Old door, rickety treacherous door.”  He peeled himself from the wall and gave the door a light kick on passing, yet this caused the door to snap off its last hinge fully and crash onto the floor. Arthur charged out into the open room and away from the treacherous door, nearly running over Mystery in the process. “Damnit!”

More barks and half snarls choked in Mystery’s throat as he hastened away from Arthur’s legs.  Are you trying to bring this place down?  Mystery trotted from his path and leapt upon the springs of a bed, half fallen sideways from a broken leg.

“I think something’s really out to get me!”  Arthur crept between the rows of beds, his light reached to the furthest side of the room.  Somehow this was good news, there was no constraining presence gnawing at the edges of the light he cast.  

Mystery just shook his head and dropped to the floor.  He padded up beside Arthur.  There is nothing here out to get you.  The dog snorted and bumped his shoulder beside Arthur’s leg. He did this again, this time without Arthur flinching from the touch.  I’m here for you.

“Thanks,” Arthur hummed.  “I got the heebie-jeebies something bad.  This place is just creepy, I don’t care if it is haunted or not, it’s flat out creepy.  You can’t change that about hospitals.  Even lived in ones.  I HATE hospitals, but here we are.  Why?  ‘Oh Arthur, c’mon,’” he gushed, with a not so feminine voice.  “‘We should at least use the equipment.  It’s been sitting for too long, and the schools so nice for providing it.’  As if they care about our research.”

Mystery barked, his voice echoing through the open and long room. He didn’t recall it happening that way.

It was a ward, a dozen or so beds lined the walls, some of the grungy metal frames were shoved across their path.  The tall canopy rods, curtain less and naked, stood around or crumpled to the walls in vague metal heaps.  The floor was littered with metal, decayed and melted cables, piles of moldering cloth. Mystery pulled a front paw back when his toes poked into something smelly, but the texture he could not place. He flinched when Arthur blew a bubble, and popped suddenly.

Arthur leaned low when they reached the next large set of doors that led out, into a short corridor with another set of doors at its end.  It was a dark and small intersection, unnaturally so, and very cold.  Arthur pushed the torch into his metal hand and reached his flesh knuckles up to his lips and breathed into them.  It had stopped raining at least, but it was still cold.

There wasn’t much of the connecting hall, aside from some graffiti and a crushed can of beer.  Arthur poked it with his foot but couldn’t read the labeling, but he judged it would be decades old, probably.  Mystery stayed closed as they reached the dark and imposing duo doors.  Light shimmered through the circular window where the glass had been shattered, a few murky shards still stuck within the frame like ragged teeth.  Arthur gulped, nearly swallowing his gum, as he shuffled forward and pressed one of the doors open ajar.

Mystery didn’t wait for Arthur to get a good look in.  Once the door was open a fraction, Mystery slipped on through and examined the expanse of the moonlight washed room.  Arthur hissed something at the dogs tail, before he too gave up and followed into the small room.

Ruble cluttered most of the floor with large portions of wood and some steel.  The ceiling was low and as Arthur moved his beam across the slanted pieces of timber, he came to the conclusion the shape reminded him of a straw hat sloping and twisting.  There were no windows in the room itself, the light came from the upper floor where the windows were lined, a few shattered but most had been boarded up long ago. Through the open window, the branches of a tree shuddered in a frail breeze.

Arthur froze when Mystery gave a warning snarl.  At the edge of the floor above, a dark face peered down. Before Mystery could bark a warning Arthur had taken off, feet hammering at the wood floors.  Mystery followed, a shrill bark clapped out in their retreat.

__

The rooms were filled with interesting shadows, old equipment and glass bottles, the kind once filled with fluid and blood; all of it now shattered and scattered.  Many of the doors that had once sheltered the rooms from disturbance were gone, torn off their hinges or removed completely to elsewhere doors go when buildings are abandoned to vandals.

Vivi coughed at the dust that scattered about as she moved quickly, to the next room then the one across from it.  She tested the doorknob and pressed the bent steel panel inward when it opened.  The EKG clicked dully as she passed it along the walls, one wall had been shattered and chunks of plaster lay around the broken bed frame it crumbled over.

“Should have ordered a warm tea to go,” she grumbled.  She was annoyed the device had not keyed in on anything interesting, not even a plug socket.  Briefly, she wondered how Arthur was fairing, if he had remembered to use his equipment at all.  But he was always weird about breaking the free stuff.  “Still no readings.”

Lewis passed his hand along the doorframe as he followed her in, at a distance.  “Are you sure you changed the batteries?” he asked, as if that would contribute in some way.  He jerked back when Vivi spun on him and raised the black box with its forked prongs facing him.  Lewis frowned at Vivi’s bright smirk.

“It works on you,” Vivi chimed.  As she whisked away, Lewis caught the bright lights flashing along its base before the reader flat lined, and resumed its default state.  “I couldn’t resist.”

“You lasted longer than I thought,” he mentioned.  Lewis followed her towards the lone window of the room and peered out, onto the courtyard in the hospitals center below.  “You know Art and I had this bet going.”

“Ooh?” she hummed, staring out the window at the dry fountain and the overgrown paths carving through the jungle of a garden.  “Lemme guess, Arthur won?”

Lewis scowled at the top of her head.  “Ouch, that hurt.”

There was no point in having the EKG reader on with Lewis right beside her, so Vivi shut it off and leaned against his arm.  “Was I right?” she posed.

“Nailed it.  I owe him a week’s worth of coffees.”  Lewis put his arm around Vivi’s shoulders and she looped her arm around his lower back. “Can I borrow a lot of money?”

“How ‘bout I just pay you what you’ve earned,” she suggests. “We’ll work out the details later, don’t worry about it.”

“I gotta worry,” Lewis groaned, his voice a little scratchy but not in a bad way.  “I think I went broke the moment you mentioned ‘pay.’”  Vivi laughed and pressed her face into the sleeve of his jacket. The conversation ended there, and Lewis just watched the soft tones of the foliage below while Vivi focused on a blank space of wall, where her light didn’t reach.  At length Lewis says, “This is nice.”

Vivi hums out a sound.  She untangles from his arm and turns the reader back on.  With a few steps between them she checks the dial face for change, a fluctuation.  “We won’t spend the whole night here, if we’re not finding anything,” she says. Vivi pulls her backpack from her backside and opens the side.  By the time she and Lewis exit the room, she’s located her walkie-talkie and has it exchanged for the paranormal seeking instrument.

“Hey Arthur—?  Damn.” It was sending but as usual, the other end was not receiving.  Vivi pulls the transmitter away from her ear, and she slips the straps of the backpack over one shoulder.  Some habits…. “He shut it off.”

Lewis grimaced.  “He still does that?”  He was only half surprised.

“He got better at not doing it.”  She’d keep the walkie-talkie in case Arthur needed to get in contact with them, but she doubted it.  Mystery was with him.  Vivi adjusted the backpacks straps over her shoulders as they resumed walking.  “He might’ve forgotten to turn it on in the first place,” Vivi said, and she kept muttering under her breath as she continued along the hall.  “I swear we need alphabet magnets to attach reminders onto his arm.”

That soft almost familiar laugh came from Lewis as he followed. “Won’t that mess up his arm?”  

“He’ll have to learn fast,” she grumbled.  They came to the end of the hall and Vivi raised her flashlight to examine the cracked plaster, the remains of a picture frame still clinging to a nail by its broken wire.  A hallway extended to the right and left, but from their poise she couldn’t judge where the stairs were located.  The air was clogged with chill and the murky reek of old books and the memory of alcohol.  “How do we get down to the lower floor?”

“To the right,” Lewis deduces.  He placed his chin between his fingers and followed Vivi’s light, down the left hall.  “Yeah. If my sense of direction hasn’t failed me, we head to the center of the hospital.  There’ll be stairs, or an empty elevator shaft?  Maybe.”  His feet had risen from the floor in anticipation, eager to move on or scout or something.

“Right it is then.  Right?” Vivi piped, and aimed her cool blue torch ahead for the path.  Lewis drifted a few feet, small flashes of magenta embers flare up at his heels after him. Vivi slowed her pace and watched, Lewis was probably not aware he was gliding.  In any case it was fun to watch, and she didn’t want to ruin it for Lewis.  He was so self-conscious of his spiritual manifestations, but Vivi had not come up with a method to consult Lewis over it.  The time would come but not now, not until—

She pulled up short and peered through a door opened part way, and movement – she was certain it was movement and not a trick of the light – as it ducked into a door.  “Lew, wait,” she hailed.  “I think I saw something.  It might be Art.”  She followed the small halo as it identified shapes and loose spaces in the floor.

“Hold on Vi!”  Lewis kicked off to the wall, intending to cut through and meet her, but recalls immediately his jacket wouldn’t allow this.  His voice grated as he cursed, and skipped beside the wall until he reached the corridor Vivi had disappeared into.  “Hey Vi?  Vivi?” He began trying the door handles along the way, most were unlocked but some rooms had no doors and no evidence of Vivi.  It upset and alarmed him, how could they get lost this fast?  His eyes had been off her for a half second, it didn’t make sense. “Vivi!  I lost track of you, where’d you go?”

Through his searching of every room available, he finally reached the end of the corridor.  But Lewis knew that Vivi would have come back once it was apparent she had lost him, and this conclusion only panicked him more.  How was it possible to lose track of someone in one long hall?

“Vivi!  Vii!?” Lewis set his feet upon the floor and looked between the left and right halls, and it occurred to him how similar the two halls looked, almost identical to the ones they had pondered over before electing the right hand direction.  Did he even leave those halls behind, or had he someone gotten turned around?  Lewis spun in place and stared into the long dark corridor he had sprinted through, the many doors shimmering with moonlight. One side of the rooms faced the courtyard, but the others didn’t.  Was there even a courtyard?  No, don’t get turned around.

“If you’re there and you’re watching,” Lewis hissed, bright flames crackling over his clenched fingertips.  “I want you to know that I will find you.”  He swept through the nearest doorway and slammed his arm across the half rusted steel.  The door thunked against his arm and cracked off its hinges, it skipped halfway across the ruble strewn floor before crashing into the shattered remains of a bed frame.  Lewis swooped through the room and alit before the window, peering through broken glass into a night saturated with gray and black.

__

The people walked with a slow, liquid pace.  Everything felt very blurry, there was something akin to dislocation about the hazy light and the sharp glisten of metal as it moved. Even the sounds were wrong.  A voice buzzed through the old microphone attached to the upper corner of the room.

“Dr. Fredrick.  Please report to Ward 9.  Dr. Fredrick….” The dull voice became garbled, as if the speaker had begun speaking through a hole in their throat.

Each room was filled with people, usually two or three.  Most the doors were kept closed but some were open, and she could see them in their beds covered with sheets.  It was very warm, almost unbearable.  A nurse exited one room, dressed in her skirt and hat. Vivi staggered back and pressed herself into the wall as the woman walked by, without a glance or any indication that she had detected Vivi.

“I should have the reader out,” Vivi thought, but she didn’t move to retrieve it.  In part in fear that whatever she was witnessing would dissolve, in part that she was too stunned to do more than stare and absorb.  She continued along the wall and examined the rooms that came up in turn.  The same scene in each, nothing about it struck her as odd or unusual.  A hospital, a hospital trapped in a time frame somewhere long distant and past, left behind in time.  A surreal place to be lost.

Near the corner of the halls end was one more door left open, and inside a man sat on a bed as another spoke to him.  What she identified as a doctor held a clipboard to his chest and nodded his head, but his expression could only be described as contemplative. ‘Treatment’ and ‘high risk’ floated to her, but much of his words were lost in the wavering, distortions of vaporous sight.

“I’ll leave you alone to consider your options.”  The doctor turned from the man seated on the bed and looked up, directly at Vivi.  She stared back, situated right in the center of the doorframe where she had stopped. Vivi frowned when the doctor made no further movement, through the people around them began to fade, melting away, trailing gooey mirages of color as they vanished.

“Good evening,” the doctor said.

“Hey,” Vivi answered.  She raised a hand to wave, but never dropped her eyes from his.  “Um….”

“Remain calm,” he says, and he peers at Vivi carefully.  “What are you doing on this side?”

Vivi chokes on her words.  Other side?  “I… uh, I got lost,” she sputtered, taking her eyes from the doctor as she backed away. Which way should she go? Where?  How did she get out of here?  “I was with a friend.”  She bumps into the wall behind her and jerks her head back to the doctor, as he steps out of the room after her.  “I… um, I….”

“A friend?” he asks.  He’s not as tall as Lewis, but she still stares up at him when he snatches at her wrist.  “Do you mind? You look rather pale.”  Vivi shakes her head.  He looks down to his own wrist and the watch there as he presses his thumb into the niche of her wrist.  “Just relax a bit.  You say you’re here with a friend?  Is he in the other ward?”

He looked human, but none of this is real.  Vivi shakes her head, he’s pressing too tightly on her wrist. “We were looking around.”

“I see,” he murmurs, still focused on his watch and silently counting.  “You shouldn’t do that.  The hospital is no place to get lost.”  He goes quiet, before he releases her wrist and steps back.  “You should come with me for a moment.”  Vivi doesn’t move, in fact she’s inching away.  “It won’t take long.  I’m concerned for your health.  You see, by law I’m not supposed to care after non-colored patients, but maybe if you don’t mind, an exception could be made?”  He motions the now empty room he had exited.

Vivi stares at him for a moment, before it registers in her mind. “Oh.  Oh, I’m sorry.  Uh… I can only stay for a little bit.”

“This won’t take long,” he assures, and steps into the open room. “I’m Dr. Salazar.  What can I call you, miss?”

“Vivi.  Just Vivi,” she says.  She goes to the other bed that had been empty upon first examination of the room, and plopped down on the stiff mattress.  She watches as the Dr. Salazar takes a notepad from his white coat pocket and sets it onto the clipboard.  “Have you been working here long?”

“Hmm,” he says.  Dr. Salazar takes a light from his coat pocket and shines it in front of her face. “Follow the light, please.  Not very long, give or take.  I’m gonna listen to your heart.”  He takes the stethoscope from around his neck and takes the circular piece and presses it to Vivi’s neck.  “Are you getting enough sun, miss Vivi?”

“Just Vivi,” she answers.  “And yes.  Plenty.” She rolls her eyes.  He is a classic doctor.

He moves the listening piece to her backside.  “Cough.”  Vivi coughs a few times, and he asks her to stop.  “What about your diet?  Eating plenty of veggies, fruits?  Protein.”

“Yes?”  Vivi tilts her head down and tries to sound convincing, but even she knows a questioning tone is not assuring.  Dr. Salazar writes down on his clipboard, or the notepad set there.

“Ah-huh,” he humphs.  “Do I need to show you a food pyramid?”  Dr. Salazar puts his hands to his hips and Vivi wrinkles her nose at him.

“I know what one looks like.”  She set the flashlight in her lap and fiddled with the edge of her skirt.

“Somehow I doubt that.  How many hours sleep do you get each night?”

Vivi groaned.  “Five.” She looks at the finger directed at her.

“No.  Double that,” Dr. Salazar enforces.  He resumes writing on the notepad.  “More variety in your diet, more sun….”

“I don’t like the sun,” Vivi grumbled.

“Well, you need it regardless your preference,” the doctor mutters, still writing.  “My abilities fall short of whether or not my patients are willing to cooperate.  Understand? But you’re young.  And don’t work so hard.”  Dr. Salazar paused to gesture around them.  “This isn’t good for you, all of this.”

This catches Vivi’s critical attention, and she frowns at the doctor.  “Wait. What?”

“Here.  Try and follow this list,” he answers, and hands over the page from his small notepad. Vivi scans over it briefly, and feels her pride is wounded in some rude way.  “And lay down, try to get some rest.”  Dr. Salazar steps away from Vivi and moves to the open door.  The intercom gurgles with another message, for a Dr. Hemmington, or someone with ‘Ing-on’ on the end of their name.

“Wait a second.”  Vivi leaps up from the bed and charges after the doctor, the little wad of paper clutched tightly in her hand.  “Hold on! I have some more—”

When Vivi reached out to touch his white coat, the hall was dark, the walls ugly and broken.  The foul wall of dust and mildew crashed into her sinuses, and she gagged a she stumbled from the open room.  Her mind reeled, what had happened?  Everything had decayed, she could scarcely recall what the hospital had been like in its prime.  The years and years melted away fresh plaster, and scorched the once finely polished wood of the floors.  It took a few seconds for her mind to reacquaint with the current, true, state of the hospital, and accept that the illusion or whatever it was, had faded completely.  Everything was gone, but not completely.  It was too dark to see, but in her hand she felt the brittle paper the doctor had given. No doubt it was scrawled with her prescription, but Vivi wondered what he had written precisely.

Once she had recovered from the transition, she raised the flashlight… the flashlight was completely drained and its plastic shell was icy in her palm.  Vivi sighed and crouched on the floor, she brought forth the backpack and dug through its pockets seeking out the spare batteries.  The paper she couldn’t examine it, and she really wanted to, but not by candle flame.  She elected one of her notebooks and pressed the note flat within it, and stashed it away safely.  The notebook wouldn’t be needed, this she was certain.

All the fresh batteries fell to the bottom of the bag.  This was the law of gravity and inconvenience.  To add onto this, none of the batteries worked in the flashlight.  One set after the next and Vivi was growing increasingly impatient when it became apparent, that all of the new batteries packed and even the EKG had been drained of power. She crouched and fumbled in the dark with the ends of the batteries, this was not a new task and she was certain the replacements were end to end and should work.

“That’s just great,” she hissed.  She raised back a fist to throw aside the last pair of drained cells, but decide better.  The hospital was trashed and she didn’t need to add to it.  She dumped the batteries into the backpack and hunted for a lighter but even that was a long shot, Vivi didn’t recall packing it this time.  “Who packs candles and forgets the lighter?” she muttered.  “Me, that’s who.  This is perfect, absolutely brilliant.  If Art finds out, he’ll never let me live this down.”  She slung the backpacks straps back over her shoulders and reached out, touched the wall to her side and teetered forward.  The only light that present was at the halls furthest end, in the vague outline of a doorway.  

“Lew!”  There was no answer, aside from the creak of the floorboards when she took a step.  She hesitates, Vivi couldn’t see at all and the building had been condemned for a half century, maybe longer ago.  Even during the day it would be dangerous exploring through without a reliable light source, the halls were too twisted, too deep. “Arthur?  Mystery?”  She shivered. “Is anyone…  Hello?”

A loud crunch came not far from where she stood, and Vivi backpedaled from it.  “Who’s there?” she croaked.  A dark shape shoved something across her path, it sounded like a door or part of the wall had been wrenched loose.  The only distinguishing bits were the glinting eyes and the bleached surface of the knuckles, its hands still raised.  “Lew?”

“Vivi,” Lewis gasped, as if a spirit could pant.  “Are you okay?  I couldn’t find you!  I got turned around, and you were just… Gone!”  Vivi went limp when he stooped forward and wrapped her up in his arms, she was almost certain they were suspended in midair.  “I couldn’t find you,” he repeated, voice trembling in her chest. “I thought you were lost.”

“I was,” she whispered.  “Not intentionally, I got tangled up in something.”  Vivi exhaled a heavy breath and closed her eyes.  A rest didn’t sound too bad.  “It wasn’t hostile.”

“It could’ve been,” Lewis rumbled.  She could see the flames flash along his neck and reflect over the drab walls.

“Don’t ruin your jacket,” she burbled.  Lewis dithered, calmed, and the flames fade from his shoulders. She would check for damage later. “We’re still looking for Arthur.”

Lewis was still tense, but he leans down and releases Vivi to stand on her own feet.  “Yeah. I can’t believe he didn’t hear the commotion I raised up here.”  This was another reason for Lewis’ agitation, Vivi knew.

“No time to waste, then.”  She spun around, but recalls the drained torch left her at a disadvantage.  “I can’t see.”  She scoots back, her heel skimming over some thin, slick bar on the floor and nearly caused her to fall.  Lewis had moved, the glimmer of his eyes descending low to her height.

“How about we not take the chance of getting separated again?” he offered.

It wasn’t difficult to make out where Lewis’ shoulders were in the dark, with his eyes gleaming right above them.  Vivi released her flashlight when he tugged it from her hand.  She touched the edge of his jacket, but paused. “You didn’t burn up the walls looking for me, did you?”  Lewis smelled smoky, but not like scorched leather.  Scorched leather wasn’t a pleasant smell, so it was unlikely he went blazing through a wall in a fit of rage. The sight of that would’ve been endearing, if not frightening in another setting.

“No,” he defended.  Lewis eyes vanished as he twisted his face away.  “I got a little warmed up, but I wasn’t planning on doing anything reckless unless I knew for sure you were actually hurt, or something.”

Vivi climbed onto his back and looped her arms around his collar. “I can take care of myself, thank you,” she said.  Lewis raised up, stood up or hovers up, she couldn’t tell.  “And don’t you dare deny that.”

“I won’t,” Lewis whimpered. On the contrary, it felt like she was the one protecting him when times turned rough.

[jessica-doom]

Draco had trust issues. He was prone to jealousy and could be, admittedly, a bit psychotic. He was definitely also a clueless git. He had issues believing anyone could love him for the person he was. He had issues. That was the plain and simple of it. And those issues caused likely irreparable problems.

"Do you ever even listen to me?"

It wasn't the shouting or raised voice that caused Draco to flinch. It wasn't the fact that his eardrums were ringing or that spit flecked his face. It was the words. It was the pure hate hiding behind them. It was the way they made him feel deep in that crevice where the jealousy and the issues and the problems lived. He flinched because he felt those words hit him right at the center of everything. And he felt that center feasting on the one good thing he had left in his life – tainting it until it was something he no longer recognized.

It wasn't until he registered the slamming of the front door that Draco fully realized he'd lost the fight. And, potentially, more. With that door closed so resolutely between them, he'd lost the chance to plead his case. To defend himself and swear up and down that he did listen. Of course he listened.

How could he not listen when passion laced every breath Harry Potter ever spoke? How could he not want to train his eyes on those lips, memorizing every syllable that passed through them? Even when the words were nothing but drunken babble, they were still laced with everything Amortentia smelled like.

There really was no telling if Harry was ever going to come back. He had no real reason to.

One of his jumpers was still in Draco's wardrobe, but that was something he could probably live without. Even if Draco couldn't because it reminded him of the night they both slipped on ice while coming home from the market. It reminded him of the deep red blush on Harry's face as they watched cans of soup roll out into traffic. It reminded him of the dopey smile on that man's face as he tried to gather the rest of the food, shoving it in the pockets of the jumper. It reminded him of that deep-bellied laugh Draco earned when he tried to 'help' by loading up the hood with now-bruised apples.

Harry had a toothbrush by the bathroom sink, as well. It was green – an intentional choice made by Draco. The green of the man's eyes was ingrained behind his own closed lids like a permanent background to his everyday thoughts. The bristles of the brush were fanning out, flattening from vigilant use. At first Draco had found it insulting that Harry would always go for the toothbrush after they'd been intimate. It felt like he was trying to scrub clean some sort of dirty feeling Draco left within him. But the longer time stretched on and the more he saw the ritual, the more comfort it instilled within him personally. He would lie back in his bed, fresh with their mingled musk, watching it unfold through the open door while his mouth watered for the minty kiss that would soon follow when Harry climbed back in beside him. Nuzzling into him like there was nowhere else he would rather be.

The only other notable thing Harry left in the small, cramped flat was the ghost of himself. Every crack and corner of Draco's home was filled with the memory of the man he had come to love more than anything he could remember even dreaming for his life. Memories of where he'd sat, where they'd shagged, where they'd sunk to the floor in the kitchen and just…talked about absolutely nothing and everything all at once. Draco couldn't even grab a mug from the cupboard without some wanton thought pushing its way into his mind.

Draco didn't know if Harry was ever coming back. He didn't know if he was ever going to get a second chance. And he would rightly deserve it if he didn't. He had always been and would likely always be at least a bit of a prick. It was coded into his genetics. But he was trying. He was trying so. Damn. Hard. He'd never tried harder at anything he'd ever done than to be the kind of person Harry Potter could be proud of.

"He's probably not coming back," Draco muttered. The universe had been hanging in a precarious balance since the two of them even thought about dating. Just tipped enough to allow a glimpse into a reality that should never exist. Just enough for a taste. Just enough for Draco to get his fill of 'what if's and 'maybe's. Just enough for him to taste it and crave more.

All before everything tilted back to normal and everything he'd grown comfortable in was ripped from his grasp.

"For Salazar's sake, Malfoy, stop being so dramatic," he countered with and pushed up from his collapsed state on the sofa. "If he comes back then fine. Fine. If he doesn't…. You'll deal with it. But if he comes back…." If Harry Potter decided Draco Malfoy was miraculously still worth his time, Draco wanted to show him everything. Everything. And he wanted it to be perfect. So to fill that growing, consuming void inside, Draco set himself to work.

It was nearing on midnight when Draco finally heard the knock on his door. The weight of an entire bottle of merlot made him reluctant to answer at all. But his hard work nagged at him and he honestly didn't know if he would get another chance if he screwed this one up. Swaying just a bit, he pulled the door open and tried to very casually lean in the doorway. The wine in his bloodstream, however, skewed his execution. Instead of leaning, he practically fell against the frame. Massaging his shoulder with a mild blush, he found it rather difficult to meet Harry's waiting eyes.

"You're drunk."

With mild confidence and a bitten back smirk, Draco pulled in the familiar stench of Canadian whisky. "As are you…." With just the inkling of an upturned lip, Draco chanced a glance upward. Harry wasn't smiling and a second later neither was he. "Why'd you come back?"

Harry shrugged, his body language matching his fixed frown. "We didn't finish our fight."

"You finished," Draco said slowly, stepping back to allow the other entrance into his flat. "Will you allow me the chance to have my say?" Neither of them would have been humbled enough to allow this sober. That was likely a red flag they were both pointedly ignoring. But since they were both rather gone, Harry stepped in with a proud nod and Draco slowly closed the door behind him. His nerves were dancing, even though he had been working towards this moment for hours. "It took several warming charms, but I think everything is still ready," he muttered, trying to funnel Harry toward the dining table.

"I'm…I'm not really hungry?" Harry replied, looking absolutely confused even as he settled into a chair. On the table were no less than ten plates of food all covered in magical bubbles. "Your side of our fights doesn't usually come with a menu."

Sitting as far across the table from Harry as possible, Draco reached into the center and poked the bubble covering one of the dishes. It dissipated with a flashy billow of smoke, filling the room with the butteriness of hot water crust pastry. "I'm not fighting. Not really. The only fighting I plan to do is for you, I suppose…." Again, if he had been sober, such corny words would never have come out of his mouth. "Pie and mash from Broadway Market."

For a moment, Harry merely blinked. His mouth flapped open and closed, but he didn't take his eyes from the platter. "Why?" was all he could say and even that barely squeaked out through obvious emotion.

Draco's merlot-slicked lips finally quirked into a comfortable smile. "Because I listen, Potter. When you were young, your aunt and uncle couldn't get anyone to watch you for one of their long weekend trips to London, so they had to take you along. For lunch one of those days, you all went to Broadway Market and as a joke, your cousin made you eat pie and mash without telling you what it was. You ended up being allergic to eel. It was an eventful trip, to say the least."

"So you listened to one of my sad childhood stories. Am I supposed to give you some sort of prize for that?"

With how badly he'd messed up, Draco wasn't really expecting it to be that easy. But the crass way in which Harry spoke still stung. Sighing softly, he reached out and popped another bubble. "Treacle tart."

"Everybody knows it's my favorite dessert."

"But does everybody know you ate two entire tarts on your twentieth birthday? Or that you vomited it all up after getting sloshed on shit vodka?" Harry stayed silent, probably running through his mind whether that was public knowledge or not. Taking advantage of the silence, Draco continued on as he continued to pop more bubbles. "I know you don't like peanut butter because it gives you gas. And I know you think the white parts of candy canes taste better for some reason. I know you lost your virginity to the little Weasette shortly after she graduated and afterward you cried in the bathroom with an entire pack of Walker's because that was supposed to be the one easy thing in your life and even that wasn't right. I know your favorite foods and your favorite brand of toilet tissue. And I know you hate the Prophet with your life even though you still read it every morning – but only because I pay for a subscription anyway.

"I knew about your promotion. And I knew about the ceremony. I know you wanted me to be there. I also know that absolutely everyone who is important at the Ministry was also going to be there. And that all of those people do not like me or the fact that we're dating. I know all of this because I listen to you. And I know…that if I had gone to that ceremony, everything would have become about me…when it should have been about you. So that's why I didn't go. Not because I don't listen to you, Harry, but because I was trying to be…nice. Or considerate.

"I listen to you. It's important to me that you know that."

Harry's face remained stoic. He didn't flinch past the initial confusion and Draco was honestly certain he might not care. That his being here might just be a matter of drunken circumstance. Their whole relationship started off as such. Harry never would have given Draco a chance in the first place if it hadn't been for the pliant effects of alcohol. It only seemed fitting that alcohol should be there for the end of them, too.

The silence stretched on too long. Long enough that Draco just didn't think he could stand it any longer. And that was humiliating. Deciding to call it – his grand gesture being nothing more than a fruitless effort – he stood, chair legs screeching on the wood floor and echoing the turmoil he wanted to scream out. He couldn't find the words any longer. All he could muster was the will to walk past Harry, saying goodbye to the best thing in his life with a casual swipe of his fingers through the man's ever-messy hair.

"I love you, too, Draco."

That happy smile pushed itself back onto Draco's face before he could even think about stopping it. And all he wanted for the rest of his life was to listen to this man say those words over and over again.

[iwannafuckyexiu]

WHOOPS — KAMINARI DENKI X MALE!READER、NSFW

2k words!

KAMINARI IS TOP AND MIGHT BE OOC KAMINARI IS TOP AND MIGHT BE OOC KAMINARI IS TOP AND MIGHT BE OOC Just to make it clear.

bathroom play heheheeh

It was a Saturday night — no, Sunday morning to be precise — you reclined yourself on the long, comfy sofa in the living room, going on round after round of PUBG dully.

The sound of your avatar in the game echoed throughout the room, showing how empty the house was. You were alone at home since your roommate, Kaminari Denki, was probably out at some club or karaoke while you decided to halt your nightlife for a moment.

It was when you clicked into your nth match of PUBG that a thud reverberated from the front door. Startled by the sudden sound, you looked through the fisheye of the door before opening the door to a sober and stressed Kirishima and a drunk Kaminari.

As soon as Kirishima saw you, he shoved the drunk mustard head towards you and left as quickly as he could, leaving you to stare at Kaminari while Kaminari gazed at you with a blurry look too.

"Are you drunk?"

Kaminari let out a slight hiccup as he leaned against the wall, pointing a quaking finger at you, he stammered, "N-N-No I'm not."

Clearly.

Albeit Kaminari would be a pain in the ass as a drunkard, a good idea came across your mind that is full of yellow waste.

An impish smile played by your lips while you approached a vulnerable Kaminari, you picked the boy up by the waist and brought him all the way to the bathroom. Setting Kaminari down in the bathtub, you flicked open the tap and water began gushing out from the opening, filling the tub.

"C-Cold!" Kaminari screeched, he sprang up a little at the icy temperature of the water but you pressed him down to keep him from scrambling off.

"Don't worry I'll warm you up."

Your fingers leisurely unbound the buttons on Kaminari's white, translucent dress shirt as you loomed over the edge of the bathtub to reach. Wan skin began unveiling under your vision when Kaminari cracked an eye open and groaned at the feathery touch around him.

As Kaminari's sight cleared up gradually, he flopped up slightly at the realisation of what you were attempting to do, "W-W-What are you doing?"

"You."

Before Kaminari could respond to the highly inappropriate line, you took Kaminari's chin in your fingers swiftly and connected your lips as you lowered his head. Tongue diving straight through between the opening, you stepped into the bathtub to deepen the kiss.

One hand holding Kaminari's chin and the other planted firmly against the wall above Kaminari's head. You wedged a knee between Kaminari's legs, teasingly stroking against the boy's groin while you nibbled on Kaminari's bottom lip to create a reaction from him.

The ticklish sensation ravaging Kaminari's mouth made all the muscles in his body halt their work, you shifted an arm to slither around Kaminari's waist as he became a puddle of jelly in your domineering assault.

Engulfed in each other's scent, the alcoholic whiff drenching Kaminari's body seemed to bring you into an intoxicated state as well, surrounding him.

Reaching a hand down towards Kaminari's aching crotch, your fingers flexibly popped open the button but didn't go further, only circling a middle finger on the tent below, luring a longing whimper from the boy. You withdrew his lips from Kaminari's, leaving an erotic string to stretch between them.

"Ah, looks like you're pretty awake, huh?"

To Kaminari's disappointment, you didn't continue touching him but instead unzipped your pants with one hand and stared at Kaminari with raised brows. As if saying, what are you waiting for?

Tortured by the pleasure that he was stopped from, Kaminari brought himself towards your crotch. Fingers hooking on the waistband of the boxers, Kaminari tugged it down to reveal an already standing cock springing up in his face.

Pink and pretty.

As Kaminari clasped a hand around the cock firmly, his tongue lapped slightly at the tip of your cock, tempting out a low grumble from above. Another hand clawing at the inside of your thigh, Kaminari let his mouth take in the protruding rod while his fingers remain locked at the bottom of the cock, you didn't realise sooner as the overwhelming feeling fell over you.

Sucking and licking at the stem, Kaminari slinked his fingers towards the tip, delving the crack open wider slightly and thumb rubbing at the crevice. You groaned at the euphoric yet throbbing sensation coursing at your cock, body weakening into shallow waters of the tub.

The knot within you quickly came to the brink of unravelling but Kaminari's fingers sealed around the bottom of your cock halted that, the pleasure raking around your entire body, rendering you paralysed. You were completely vulnerable and Kaminari took advantage of that.

A hand extending out for the body wash bottle, Kaminari squeezed a large amount onto his fingers. The viscous liquid trickling down his hand acted as a lube substance as he circled a digit around the hole behind you before sending it in smoothly.

"Ah!"

"W-Wait, what are ... hhh ... you doing?" you shakily questioned, lifting your eyes at Kaminari, he hoisted up a trembling hand to stop Kaminari to no avail as the latter attached his lips to the tip of your cock and sucked harshly, erupting a surprised moan from him.

Head rising up to look at you, a grin that mirrored the one formed on your features earlier appeared on Kaminari.

"Yo-u."

Though Kaminari's tone was a bit shaky at the inappropriate phrase, it didn't stop him from sounding even alluring than usual, voice masked with a magnetic ring, lower than usual.

Fuck, karma's a bitch, were the lines that ran through your mind as you melted into Kaminari's arms and control, very fucked in both contexts.

One finger.

Two fingers.

Three fingers.

Kaminari reached out for the sneakers just beside the bathtub as one hand remained closed around your cock. Removing the shoelace from the shoe, Kaminari skillfully secured around the base of your cock in place of his fingers while his other hand resumed thrusting through the tight region.

Kaminari's lips sealed the fractures of whimpers let out from your throat, his digits brushed against the deepest spot in you. In which you arched your back and quivered at, the veins encircling your cock jutting out more while the painful thrill tormented you.

"Ngh ... t-ake it off ..." you muttered in a low tone between your heavy breaths and groans, extending a hand to loosen the tie but a firm grip around your wrist halted your movement.

"Nah, it looks pretty there, " poking fun at you, Kaminari's steaming, drunken breath prodded against the reddening shell of your ear, "doesn't it?" As Kaminari spoke, his fingers didn't stop too, flicking the tip of your cock, squeezing and stroking the testicles. He stared into your sober yet blurry eyes with a provocative gaze.

"I'm coming in," Kaminari hums with a hooked tone beside your ear, withdrawing his finger from your hole, gleaming with your sticky liquid. One hand clutched onto your thigh, leaving pale red claw marks, Kaminari's cock teasingly grazed against the pink opening but not going in just yet. And to that, you lazed below him, not resisting or anything.

Might as well enjoy it if you can't stop it.

You thought on the positive side, though enjoy would be an overstatement, as looking at the shoelace tied around your cock made your balls ache.

Kaminari's throbbing cock slowly entering you, a ripping feeling twinged at your rear despite the full foreplay before that. Your facial complexion blanched down to paper white, a roll of sweat dripping down your temple, you gnawed on your bottom lip to the point of bleeding to clog up the painful moans rippling out your throat.

"JSSHDKJSHk tAKE IT OUT!"

"Ah sorry, I'll be quick!"

And with that, Kaminari's entire cock sunk in.

"AH—!"

The sudden movement had your nails raking across Kaminari's waist in the agony of having a foreign matter deep inside you, you shut your eyes tightly, lips coming apart into a faint groan.

"I—am ... n-never going to be bo-ttom after ... hh—this!"

The feeling of having something intruding at the back, the way you could feel the trace of Kaminari's cock in you made you embarrassed yet excited. The rod scorched your insides as it scraped against the contracting walls and delved deeper, squelching against the viscid fluids released from your body lewdly.

But you still preferred to be the one fucking than be the one fucked.

"Yeah sure," Kaminari laughed into your neck, his voice hoarser and lower than usual, "if you can even get the chance to."

Raising his head, Kaminari silenced you before another complaint came out from your mouth. Lips clashing together and tongue slipping through the gap between teeth, you relaxed your body from the euphoric feeling and your backside seemed to be less tense.

As Kaminari clutched onto your waist, he began rocking his hips hard into you without any rhythm, the tip of his cock barely prodding against the sweet spot in you but it still brought out a string of pleasured yet pained curses from you.

All of a sudden, Kaminari picked you up from the bathtub, standing up to his feet by the side of the tub whilst your private parts remained connected.

"Ah, is that where it is?"

The sudden change of position caused a pitched yelp from you. The cock ravaging your walls pressed against the one spot in you that brought great pleasure, teasingly rubbing over the same area repeatedly, you clutched onto Kaminari harder.

"A-Ah n-ot there ngh ... it's t-too deep!"

"Hahahah ... then shall I go harder instead?" Kaminari joked along with him, his movements never stopping even one second.

Being set on the sink, the frigid sensation of the porcelain mixed with the flaming rod ramming through you instantly sent a small whimper out of your swollen lips with the contrast of temperature.

Kaminari frowned lightly in his drunken state. Not satisfied with the position they were in, he hoisted a leg onto his shoulder while his hand pulled at your ankle to open up more space, giving him more access to send himself in deeper.

Settling his hand by your hip, Kaminari began another round of assault. His cock reached all the way through you with every thrust, kneading at your prostate gland in rapid motions. You could only groan at the growing pain of not being able to reach your peak, letting out faint whimpers while you clutched onto the edge of the sink with your hand.

Chin tipped upwards and back arched, your barely opened eyes stared at the mess at your crotch. Despite your cock being strained by the tight shoelace, the translucent white liquid leaked out the opening, some slowly oozing down the side of your cock towards the sticky puddle below you.

"Didn't—... know you had it in y-you hahah ..." you said to Kaminari between breaths, a light laugh reverberating from you while you fell back into another trance of moans as Kaminari slammed into you harder.

Kaminari sped up his grinding as his climax gradually approached, seeming to get rougher with his thrusts. You bit at your lip, feeling your cock throbbed in both suffering and thrill, being stimulated every time Kaminari's abdomen brushed against the tip whilst his cock filled you up wholly.

Lips weaved together once more, his cock sucked in hard by your walls, his hand clasping your hip in his palms, with one last hard thrust, a spurt of hot liquid was released into the deepest part in you. And a continuous string of milky cum ejected out of your cock, onto both your bodies when Kaminari pulled loose the shoestring around your cock at the same time.

The overwhelming pleasure put you into a state of extreme pleasure and euphoria. Kaminari rested his face in your neck, one of your legs still hanging over his shoulder, as you quivered vigorously at the climax, discharging your load in an uninterrupted chain of white liquid.

"I bet I can fuck you better than this," despite being worn out after such an exercise, you provoked Kaminari whilst he cleaned you up in the bathtub.

"Hahaha, sure." Hearing the challenging tone in your voice, Kaminari lifted his head up to gaze at you, eyes narrowed into a grin as his finger inside you pressed at your prostate gland, erupting a whine from you.

"Goddamnit."

[jacklynnfrost]

Geldris Week #1

That time Gelda Kicked Zeldris in the face for getting in her way...

First Meeting

He stretches, his body honed and ready for the hunt.

The double-edged Daishō swords are crossed on his back and he deems those, along with the dagger at his hip as the only thing he needs as he strolls from demon territory and out into the roaring realm. The perpetual night sky twinkles, the second moon raising and he sniffs the air. His black hair jostles back from the harsh winds of his world. As of right now, he is the master here, but when his father and brother return things will devolve once more.

As executioner, he commands respect and deals death to those who have wronged, and today he is after a Vampire who has killed a handful of higher level demons. The man smirks as he looks across the dunes. In the distance, he can make out the boneyard of twisting, naturally formed stone spires and the illuminating red molten river that trickled in a fork between the overgrown wilds and the distant mountain. He has a single mark, a target, and he has enough information to begin tracking the beast.

This man does not care so much about the annihilation of the Vampires, but more so the health of the realm as a whole.

The man hopes a wild monster would make the mistake of crossing his path. He is tempted to leak trickles of his power to draw out an indura, but he does not want to tip off his prey. The vampire has been slippery and he does not want to underestimate the leech. Besides, the dark-haired man feels he will have plenty of time to play once his mark has been thoroughly questioned. He just can’t bring himself to believe Vampire King Izraf did not send this man to weaken them. Or him in particular as he is the last of royal blood who remained in this realm.

He tracks the vampire, edging into the floating stone ruins as he can tell the beast has recently found a victim or possibly is hunting someone, ironic as it is while being hunted. The landscape turns to cracked earth, the rocks jut toward the sky but under the ground level. He slips down into the maze of crevices, the red clay dust hazing the air. It’s always dark, but this man has no problem spotting the little details, like a drop of blood on the edge of an outcropping, or the palm print a few paces forward. This man is short, built and strong, but keenly cautious. He creeps around each corner, listening to any sign of an approach.

King Izraf swore they would handle this, but after the last attack took out one of their top demon seeders, he has to get involved. He dips around another corner, wondering if it would be easier to climb the stone wall and hop from pillar to pillar in search of this vampire. His target has been here recently but the twists and turns of this place do not make his job easy. He is just about to come at this from above when he hears a solid thud and a body hitting the ground a distance to his right. A red, stone wall is between them and he knows if he barrels through it, it could cause a domino effect of all the natural towers falling on one another.

He crouches, following the noise with quick side steps, back to the stone and his green eyes scan the area while black leaks to take over the color. The scent of blood fills the air and a bleating scream, pained and panicked, rings in his ears. This propels his muscles into action and he flits up, jumping from stone crevice to rock formation before he spots who he’s after. The man is in tattered red and black clothing and he is ripping at the throat of an animal.

This startles the executioner, his grip on the pointed, red stone slipping but he simply propels forward to the next sliver of wall. The vampire below is feasting on the beast and this man adds ‘can drink any blood’ to his limited knowledge of his realm neighbors. From what he can infer, this killer isn’t the brightest as there are plenty of small cracks to hide in, and yet he chose the biggest area in this maze to let his guard down. He adjusts, hopping to a better position before dropping down into the open circle this crazed vampire has decided to have his meal in, aiming for his back.

He does not reach for his blades in his descent, as he’s made his trajectory perfect for a collision course, but he doesn’t make his mark. A body slams into his side inches before he reaches the feeding vampire. The two roll over, then again, and again as they each try to pin the other down. From the movement, all he can make out is supple leather and quick limbs. The vampire he would have caught is now alerted of the danger and makes a run for it.

“Bloody hell!” The executioner curses, springing away with a solid kick off the ground when he rolled to be on top. He comes to a stand, reaching for his swords with both hands, eyes roaming the arenaceous covered clearing. He needed to catch that vampire, but this new person is intent on getting in his way. A blur of motion whips by him, he catches a flap of braided blonde hair and a rear that rounded out her leathers beautifully. A woman had not only snuck up on him, but is now in hot pursuit of his target, in the lead.

He rushes after her, steps louder in his hurry and he grits his teeth over the fact that he can't hear her running steps. 'She's a skilled assassin'. The man muses to himself and forces his own movements to be concealed, sacrificing fractions of his speed. At the end of the towering rocks maze, the landscape opens to broad ruins that the wilds have started to overtake. Vines and brown moss creeping from the sloping cliffside that angles up to the beige forest.

Rather than go for the apparent trek up, he goes parallel to the forest, listening for any sign of that girl catching up to that vampire. He tries to think of any other prominent family or person who would hire someone to go after his mark, as he assumes no one would do this for any other reason. A little thrill thrums up his spine as he is in need of some entertainment, a challenge, and now he has a target and a secondary threat to worry about. A race to the finish, so to speak. He grins, teeth bared as he hup's out of the red rock's territory and into the powdered forest.

The tracks he looks for are the woman's and he notes that she is following the haphazard imprints of the crazed vampire. The red dust from their shoes leave a trail and he follows as the tracks enter the twisted thicket that grew here. Lava flows through, dividing the place in half. The trees are rough, gnarled and the shrubs are brown, the dirt is packed but the russet vines thrive, looping around anything that stands still for more than a few hours. Even the ground is covered in the hard thick creeper plants.

He flits into the wilds. He is close behind them, and, after a moment, he hears the start of a scuffle. He catches up. In between the trees, he spots her drawing her silver blades from her hip. He draws his own and as her arm comes down, seemingly about to stab the vampire in the heart, he throws his blade to clang into hers.

It connects with a harsh clash, her blade slipping from her grasp and flings in the direction his goes in. The woman, sitting on top of his mark, turns to look back at him, her pretty face morphs from shock to tense anger. Her purple eyes are narrow but prominent amongst the darkness around them. The vampire takes advantage of the distraction and in a burst of power, pushes her from him and even the executioner has to brace himself to prevent from skidding back.

Their mark has a few surprises up his sleeve.

The woman lands on all fours to his right, her back legs digging in and as he moves to give chase to the man they are both hunting, the woman swings up. She uses her momentum to roundhouse kick him in the side of the face, he's stunned and impressed, as she hadn't telegraphed her attack. He truly hadn't seen it coming. His back slams to the ground, eyes wide and she pounces, but he rolls to the side and out of her way. "That's my kill!" Her voice chimes heavy with determination and he scowls, his teeth gritting as he pushes up to a stand.

He's on the defensive, her body quick and lean as she springs up and goes for another attack. The woman sweeps her legs near his, snaps another blade free and he blocks, losing ground. She has an opening, a fraction of a moment to strike him with her blade but she steps back, ready but no longer instigating a fight. He shakes his head, his dark locks slick but he eyes the girl. She hasn't used any magic, but as he sniffs her he doesn't smell demon on her. At first he thought the vampire smell had been his target's scent left behind but with her alone he knows what she is.

"Why do you want to kill one of your own?" He sneers and she returns the expression. Her face hardens, but her violet eyes swirl with subtle interest as she eyes down his body in retaliation of him doing the same to hers. The man isn't sure if she is studying him because of his skills in their fight or if she finds him attractive, but being acutely aware of her, he does see her stare shift.

"Why did you save him?" She volleys back to him viciously, eyes narrow when he doesn't speak. "Don't pretend you don't know who that man is!" He doesn’t deny it, but as she doesn’t answer him, he doesn’t answer her. The two are poised, at the ready, but neither makes the first move to strike. He has a sinking suspicion that she has been holding back as well. His interest is piqued as he can still feel the ache at the side of his face where she kicked him and he roams her body with his gaze just as she does his.

The two are in a standoff and slowly, the man straightens pushing his hair back with his fingers before scowling in the distance while taking his eyes off the vampire woman. “What’s your name?” He asks and it takes her much longer to ease out of her fighting stance. He doesn’t blame her for not trusting him, he feels the same way about her and it would be a lie if he said he isn’t playing her.

“What’s yours?” She retorts and he sighs, long and weary before giving her the most exasperating look. This is twice she has answered him with a question of her own. “Who sent you? You are overstepping, this is our responsibility.”

He didn’t want to argue rights with her, as far as he is concerned he can hunt who he wants and this job drew his attention. The man knows they have to start somewhere. He needs to know what she’s after in order to find a way to force her to give up her pursuit. “Zeldris.” The executioner tells her and he expects her to understand from just the name that he can do whatever the hell he desires. Zeldris is frustrated more so when the woman just stares, wearily, not recognizing who he is.

At first, he silently boils in rage but after a breath, he thinks maybe he can use her lack of knowledge to his advantage. “Well, Zeldris, sorry you wasted your time, but this is the end of the road for you. Go back, tell whoever hired you that your bounty slipped away and go about your business.” He snorts through his nose, but the woman pulls out a palm sized canvas sack, shakes it to indicate the coin and throws it to him.

Zeldris side steps. The bag breezes over his shoulder to taps in a clang of metal to the dirt behind him. Vaguely he looks back to her with a bored expression. With her actions, he knows she thinks he is a bounty hunter, one that would give up his mark for so little gold. Perhaps another would view it as alot but he has piles of the stuff. “Go home, little girl.” Zeldris condemns and he watches her straighten up with a smirk. He rolls his eyes walking toward where his blade soared to when he threw it.

The wilds are overgrown. The dull tans and browns meshing together but in the moonlight he spots a glint of metal. He picks it up and, of course, it’s hers. It’s ornate, the hilt carved and encrusted with jewels. “You must be very good at your trade.” Zeldris quips under his breath.

“You don’t know me.” The woman retorts and he just resists his flinching response of unleashing his magic upon her. He hadn’t heard her follow, but that act alone confirms his suspicions and he hands over the blade, hilt to her. She hesitates, slowly reaching forward as if expecting him to kill her at any moment. Impatiently, he pushes it to her reluctant hand.

He turns his back on her while searching for his own dagger. “If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead.” Zeldris notes, confident and he expects a scoff or more of her sass but she is quiet. He rips the dried vines from his path, powder spewing from where he cracks the shriveled things, and embedded in the tree a foot away is his dagger, he pulls it free easily.

“You’re an upper level demon.” Her voice is curious and he looks over his shoulder, expecting to see fear in her eyes. Instead, his breath catches. The corner of her lips tip up, her eyes crinkle sweetly and her head tilt to the side as if she is trying to figure him out and finding it hard to place him in a single category. “Zeldris... I know that name.”

He situates himself, finding her standing too close but he doesn’t want to retreat. Instead, he raises his hand and pushes her out of the way with his palm on her collarbone. The leather is rich and he feels her, his pinky brushing against her soft skin. He hadn’t wanted to recede from her but with that one touch he does, stepping back. His chest squeezes, eyes widen and he backs far enough away to escape her, walking to where this began in the clearing. “I’m Gelda,” Her voice follows him and he looks to the dark sky in exasperation. His fist clenches before he loosens it, trying to shake the feel of her from the bit of skin that still tingles.

“Go home, Gerda.” Zeldris commands as he picks up his target's tracks once more. She scoffs, just as he thought she would and he hates that he smirks to himself from the sound.

“Gelda. My name is Gelda.” She reiterates, speaking to him as if he is an idiot. He honestly isn’t sure if he’s not. He stalks off in the direction the vampire escaped but after a few moments, he looks back. He cannot hear her following but there she is, mere steps behind. She smiles coyly as if she knows what she’s doing. “I’m sure there is a way for both of us to get what we want.”

Zeldris’ spine shoots straight as he catches the undertone to her phrase. She’s flirting, and he narrows his eyes in suspicion. She continues, “I just need proof of his death.” Gelda steps forward, her hands behind her back as he holds his ground. It’s not until her chin is a breath away from his forehead that she speaks again. “Can’t we do this together?” The back of her hands graze down his arms until she pulls away, the tips of her fingers reaching his wrists. His eyes lighten to green and he’s so shocked at her shift that he looks her in the eye.

The violet is soft, a lull and he feels himself slipping into a peaceful haze. She smiles, her lips plump and red. “Don’t you want to obey me?” Gelda asks and somehow he wants to say yes. “Then give me your hands.” He complies and when both his arms are extended she pulls out a thin silver chain. Zeldris can feel the enchantment on it and just as he fights her temptation, she scowls and drops whatever magic compulsion she just horribly failed at.

She jumps back out of his reach as he tries to snag her by the wrist. “I should truss you up with that!” He sneers, wondering why she used a magic ability so unnatural to her, as he could feel it wasn’t her own. That alone saves her life, pegging her as desperate enough to make such a weak attempt at overpowering him and curious as to why she is.

“That killer is slipping away with all these stupid games you keep playing.” Gelda scolded, straightening and returning to the tracks, stealing the lead out from under him. He’s sure then, with her strutting hips swaying as they are that she meant to do this, the assumption isn’t completely incorrect as Gelda is testing his limits to see how much he will tolerate and how much effort it will be to kill him. Her top goal now is to get Zeldris out of her way, while his shift to teaching her a lesson about toying with a Demon Prince.

“My stupid games!?” Zeldris hisses, dispising that he’s following her but as her rear moves in that tight leather his ire simmers to a manageable level. “What did you just try to pull back there? Some kind of magic trick!? You’re a higher ranked vampire, or was that really the best you got?” He can’t see her face, but if he could he would have known he hit a sore spot with her. Instead, he hears her scoff and cannot place her answer into a category.

“Can we just kill this vampire together. We can each take half his head back for whatever reward there is for his death.” Gelda isn’t trying to be quiet, knowing they fought each other for long enough that the vampire they hunted is gone from here.

“No.” Zeldris concludes and Gelda’s steps halt, her leg up on the roots above. She’s just turning back when he smirks, overtaking her with a silent hop through the air over her head, to be in the lead. “I want to question him, a thorough interrogation done my way. After, you can do whatever with his body.” Gelda catches his insult and mimes gagging dramatically in Zeldris’ direction. But when the man starts off, creeping through the wilds she can’t help but appreciate the way his body moves. She hates following his lead just as severely, biting her lip as she silently ruminates a plan.

Zeldris, inexplicably, is doing the same.

[raspberrytummytickles]

Title: Talk to Me Fandom: Supernatural RPF Characters: Jensen/Jared Summary: Ticklish!Jared; When Jared stops talking, Jensen immediately tries to get the man to speak again.

A/N: So I was looking at Conventions on YouTube and I remember one where I’m pretty sure Jensen asked Jared if he knew he talked a lot. Jared brushed it off but I wonder if he ever felt insecure about talking and so this fic was born!!

EDIT: Found out it was a Facebook thing I think….. Anyway, I wrote this as an apology for not writing for like he whole week 😅😅😅 hope you like it!!!

“My god, you talk a lot.”

Those words brought Jared to a screeching halt. He knew it was supposed to be playful but it brought back some hurtful memories. He knew he could be a chatter box, over explaining things and what not but Jensen never seemed bothered by it before. Jared could understand when it gets annoying, he gets annoyed with himself chattering sometimes but Jensen always said he liked when he talked. Jared sighed silently to himself and brushed it off. Like always.

After their little Facebook thingy, Jared could feel his chest ache. He wasn’t in the mood for talking. Jensen seemed okay with that, wrapping his arms firmly around Jared’s waist and placing gentle kisses along his jaw. A small smile grace the younger males face because he knew his boyfriend loved him to death. It didn’t stop the seed of insecurity though.

It had been three days since the recording and Jensen was growing more and more worried about Jared. He was keeping quiet, more to himself, distant. Well, not distant but he won’t chatter away or really talk about anything. He barely messed with Misha anymore and when he did, he stopped after Misha first asks him too. Everyone was starting to get worried for their big ray of sunshine!

Jensen quietly pushed open Jared's—now their— trailer door. Jared was laying on the floor, pillows surrounding him. He was resting his head against one, staring at the t.v. that was playing some random show. Jared didn’t even look up when Jensen settled beside his lover, fingers combing through his hair.

“Jay, you okay?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You’re watching the Notebook,” Jensen chuckled lightly. Jared didn’t even crack a smile, just reached over and turned the t.v. off, wiping a hand over his eyes.

“Seriously, babe. Are you feeling okay? You haven’t talked much…or at all for three days. We are worried about you.”

“I just don’t have anything to say,“ Jared huffed, burying his face back into his pillows.

“But you always have something to say,” Jensen muttered, fingers dragging down Jared’s back, caressing him gently to help him open up more. Jared stayed silent and closed his eyes, shoulders tensing. “If you don’t want to talk, fine. But, don’t think I won’t make you.”

Before Jared could ask what that meant, Jensen launched his wiggling fingers along Jared’s neck, sliding in between the small crevices and behind his ears. Jared burst into a fit of giggles immediately, head ducking further into his arms which only gave Jensen more space to tickle.

“Jehehensehen!”

“I did say I would make you,” He reminded Jared, moving down to Jared’s back. The younger man started struggling, arm swinging out to push Jensen away. Unfortunately, all that did was give Jensen the opportunity to slide his fingers into Jared’s ticklish hollows. Jared shrieked loudly, arm slamming down as giggles grew louder and louder.

“Stohohop tihihickling mehehe!”

“Are you going to start talking?”

“Jehensen!”

“I’m going to take that as a no,” Jensen mocked sighed, nudging his fingers out of Jared’s armpits, smiling at the bubbly giggles before poking and prodding at the thin ribs, pulling up the layer of plaid. Jensen was always amazed when he saw Jared’s body. It was a beautiful piece of art created for him. Jared’s broad shoulders showed strength that Jensen loved to mark and kiss but Jared’s waist. Oh my god. It was narrow and feminine with a beautiful set of abs that decorated it.

So Jensen may have a belly kink, it was only for Jared so he didn’t really see the problem. Jensen couldn’t help it, Jared was so freaking beautiful. Jensen placed tiny kisses along Jared’s sides, smirking into the skin at the twitch and snorts escaping the younger man. Another reason Jensen loved Jared’s tummy was because of how ticklish it was.

“Please-Please Jensen, don’t! You know how ticklish I am!” Jared cried, hands gripping the pillows around him tightly. He knew if he grabbed at his lover he might possibly hurt him and kept to strangling the pillows.

“I do,” Jensen agreed. “That’s why I’m going to play with it!” Jensen fluttered his fingers over the tender skin that cringed at the butterfly tickles.

“Dohohont!”

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

When Jared finally met Jensen’s eyes, they were filled with such insecurity and fear that it took Jensen’s breath away. Jared made no move to answer so Jensen gently rubbed his fingertips into Jared’s belly, hoping for a smile. Jared burst into bubbly laughter, eyes already lighting up, a small smile on his face.

“Close but not quite.”

Jensen traces Jared’s muscles, fingers dragging down to his little innie before swiping over it and tickling the skin of his waist line. Jared jerked his hips, laughter still coming out yet growing louder every minute or so. Jensen loved the feeling of Jared jerking under him, his laughter vibrating his chest. Jensen pressed a bit harder on the spot under Jared’s ribs, getting a squeal for his efforts.

Time for the kill, Jensen decided. He buried his face into Jared’s stomach, licking the younger males belly button before giving it a few kisses. Jared barked out laughter, toes wiggling frantically, knowing what’s coming but couldn’t find the words to tell Jensen to stop. Jensen’s scruff rubbed along Jared’s sides and belly before takin a huge breath and blowing the biggest raspberry he could.

“OHOHO MY GOHOHOD!” Jared shrieked, peals of laughter escaping him. “JEHEHENSEN!”

Jensen wasn’t listening, he just continued to blow. He blew one on every inch of Jared’s torso, loving how it made the adorable dimples show on Jared’s cheeks. He was to fucking cute like seriously, stop. Jensen playfully bit along Jared’s tummy, nose pressing into the tiny tickle spots that easily got overlooked.

“PLEHEHE! PLEHEHE! I’LL STAHAHART TAHAHALKING AHAHAHAGAIN!” Jared sobbed, tears rolling down his cheeks into the pillows. “I’M TOHOHO TIHIHICKLISH, JEHEN! PLEHEHEEEE!”

Jensen blew three more, nose nuzzling a couple more spots and little kisses placed all over the thin abdomen before Jensen finally pulled away. Jared panted with relief, coughs escaping as air struggled to get in. Jensen smiled deeply, eyes filled with love as he stared at the gorgeous man in front of him. Jensen had figured out what was wrong with Jared; he should of known, it wasn’t that hard to decipher. He should of looked harder.

When Jared finally got breath into his lungs, he felt arms wrapping around his waist. He flinched, tummy way to sensitive for anything else but slowly relaxed when Jensen kissed his jaw and then his lips. Jared slowly kissed back, relishing in the love Jensen poured out for him.

“I love you so fucking much,” Jensen mumbled against his lovers lips. “I love your long girly hair,” okay he deserved that punch. “I love your beautiful dimples and smile, I love how smart you are, I love your eyes. I love your fucking hot body, I love how kind and compassionate you are. How excited you get over small things, how you never take advantage of anyone and always try to make others happy, often forgetting about yourself. And I love so so much, how much you talk. You chatter and chatter and I love listening to it because you are so passionate about everything. I don’t want to miss a fucking thing you have to say. Please don’t stop now,” Jensen said, cradling Jared’s face, thumb brushing away tears of awe and love.

Jared kissed Jensen passionately, trying to convey everything he felt for this man in front of him.

“I love you,” Jared said firmly, trying to make Jensen hear how much he adores him, how much he loves this green eyed Adonis in front of him. And by Jensen’s wide smile, he knows he pushed through.

~Fin~

[headingplaces]

Relapse [M]

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: angst, smut

word count: 2.8k

Your poison is back.

In your peripheral vision you could see him standing there. Blending casually with the shadows casted in the grey wall filled with graffiti. The liquid courage burning your throat the whole night turned to be a bad companion. The countless nights you spent with mascara running down your dark almond-shaped eyes that smeared your pillowcase stopped you from approaching him.

“I’m sorry.”

You stayed silent. Because silence is the only constant in the undefined uncertainty. Silence was your friend ever since your little heart starts to beat inside the womb. Silence was what greeted you when you called him late at night after you demanded him to tell you the opposite of your assumptions. Silence was the loudest sound resonating in your one room apartment that you wasted your youth on, trying to pay each month. He was the aftertaste of coffee in the morning, his scent still lingers in your small kitchen and he knew you would crawl back to him even after all this time. But not this time. You let the static noise consume your silence and ended the line.

“Why weren’t you answering my calls?”

You look up to his dark irises demanding answers. You could see a hint of curiosity interlaced with a flicker of worry in his low voice that he’d use on only on you. Maybe he should just open his own private practice and fool other girls into thinking he’s an available saint when, in all honesty, he was a demon. Hypothetically. 

You find it difficult to hold the laughter of pity you have for yourself. His voice was still able to fill up the crevices in your broken soul. You mustered up all the extra dose of courage your dear friend has given you and captured his eyes in yours.

“How can you expect me to answer your calls when you never pick up mine?”

He seemed taken aback by the sharp words coming out of your mouth. The distance between the two of you were short, but you’ve never felt out of place and further than him. You could smell the distinct scent of his cologne – your favorite cologne, and you’ve never felt the need to break down like this. But you can’t. Because when you do, when you carefully peel off the layers of yourself in front of him until you’re stripped bare and empty, he’ll find good use of your cracks to fill you with him again. He would fill you with love and affection that turned into an elixir you needed everyday, until you depend on it too much it turned to poison. 

You had to remind yourself that he left you. Jungkook left you with no perspicuous reason, leaving you at 4 o’clock in the morning with his hoodie still clinging to your sleeping figure. And when the door clicked shut, you finally opened your all-along conscious eyes, welcoming the tears rolling down your cheeks at the crack of dawn. Your relationship with him was on the highway reaching the downhill. 

His arms snaked around your waist as tears threatened to spill out of your eyes. No amount of alcohol was enough to make you forget him, and now he was in front of you. His physique engulfed you in a comforting hug, as if welcoming you home when in fact your home was the one that left you. You stayed in his embrace long enough to collect yourself together. His steady arms were caging you in – the physical contact burning your skin in ways that you concluded was all because of the alcohol. Nothing more. You lifted your head from his firm shoulder to land a closer look on him. Nothing changed. Except for us, you thought to yourself.

Jungkook’s eyes meet your heavy ones and you didn’t need to avert your vision to the night sky to see the stars, because the galaxy was in his eyes. You didn’t know how long you stayed still admiring his dark eyes glinting at night that was once yours, but your eyes were now closed and his soft lips were on yours.

His kiss was the same as always; a mix of need, comfort, lust and a sweet escape. You knew this relationship was just two broken souls finding solace in one other. He tasted like broken bottles in the living room at 2 am, the scent of the earth after the rain subsided and the thick smell of secondhand cigarettes from the party inside but nevertheless – home. You broke apart before one thing leads to another, holding both of his arms to prevent him from approaching you once more. But your attempts were futile when the close proximity was charged with tension that made you push your thighs tightened against each other.

His eyes were a slow torch of fire lighting you up. And his lips were ravishing yours once more. Hungry, heavy with lust and laced with desperation. You prayed that this wouldn’t be another mistake. That the crossroads of choices deep in your head were guiding you to a conclusion that wouldn’t break your heart further. Maybe loving him one last time is the key to letting him go. But loving him was, is and always will be hard.

You returned his kiss with the same eagerness and passion because your ability to lie to yourself was inactive, and you were left with desire. His teeth grazed your bottom lip and you muffled a moan threatening to escape your lips, but his deep kisses were ready to capture the sounds you make as his hands run down your body to your sensitive area. “We should continue this somewhere private,” he croaked out before kissing you tenderly and interlacing his hands with yours. Both of you were a panting mess with Jungkook leading the way and you following closely behind with his fingers around yours.

“Where is ‘somewhere private’?” you breathed out. You didn’t know where he was taking you, but as his pace slowed down, you could spot his black car a two blocks away from where you are. 

The thought of having sex in the car kick start the engine of your heart, overworking the pumps that resonated to your inner system. You were going to have sex in his car. Of course, it wasn’t your first time with him but it was a mutual preference to not do it in public or somewhere with high risks of getting caught. But it was different this time. 

He muttered a low fuck as he searched his pockets for his car keys and quickly unlocked the door. Like the gentleman he is, he opened the door for you to let you go first before spanking you when you were halfway in. You opened your mouth to protest but the door was quickly shut and his mouth was all over yours. He broke away to lift his shirt over his head before positioning himself in between your legs, your head leaned on the window of the car and his fingers tugged the hem of your dress, motioning you to strip down like he did. He stopped moving when he finally pulled the dress over your head to admire your chest and you could see the bulge in his chest growing more prominent when he realized you weren’t wearing any bra.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he said in the middle of heated kisses with his fingers in your hair, tugging it back to make more space between your shoulders and neck. He rests his forehead on your neck as he grinds his hips on yours. His hardness was touching your stomach and your thighs. You were positive you were drenched down there. 

You reached down to unbutton his jeans and help him take it off, wasting no more time. He draws his hand down your stomach to your underwear, pressing his middle finger to the thin fabric, making you grind your hips on his finger. 

“You’re this wet for me and I haven’t fucked you yet,” He used his free hand to hold your hips down while he moved the fabric aside and rubbed your throbbing clit. 

“Jungkook,” You moaned, trying to buck your hips eager for more contact with this fingers. He patted your pussy twice before his index finger curled the side of your lacy underwear and pulled it down slowly, knowing the effect it has on you.

His eyes skimmed your naked body with lust written all over his face. Your arousal was all you could smell inside the car. He let go of your hips and kept his eyes on you as he runs his left hand to your upper body, landing on your breasts and flicking your hard nipples, earning another moan from you. You grasped his right hand frozen in between your thighs to make him move. 

“Take it slow, baby.” He grunted and sucked on your neck. He continued painting your neck with his tongue and his eager kisses while his right hand slowly moved to life, cupping your core relishing in the heat that engulfed his palm before drawing slow circles on your heat. His thumb flicked your clit, you instantly arch your back into him. His fingers teasingly slid over your outer folds before he dipped one inside you, pumping in and out consistently, and then another was added. Slowly, he pulls them out to push them back inside your depths roughly and you could hear how wet you were. You start to press against him to keep up with him, but this earned a dissatisfied look from Jungkook and he curled his fingers inside you while pumping in and out with greater speed. You threw your head back against the door as moans spilled out of your mouth mercilessly. 

You could feel the familiar knot in your lower stomach start to tighten and you knew your release was coming very soon. “Faster. Jungkook-“ your cries were cut short when he suddenly stopped moving and pulled his fingers out of your glistening folds, now covered with your wetness. He brought his two fingers into his mouth and sucked your juices. Fuck. He leaned against the door opposite of yours and motioned you to ride him. 

You managed to use advantage of the small space to lower yourself on all fours and crawl a step to his raging, leaking pre-cum and bent down to lick the tip of his sensitive length. You opened your mouth to lick his shaft up and down to his balls before closing it in from the top. You began to bob your head up and down his length a few times before he grabbed your hair to hold your face still. He thrusts roughly into your mouth into your throat, causing you to force yourself to swallow back a choke as he moans your name like a scripture. He pulled your off gently and wiped the saliva that escaped your lips. 

“You’re so hot just like that, dollface,” He knew what does pet names did to your pussy and you loved it. You position yourself over his dick and slowly lowered yourself completely. Moans filled the car, and his dick easily slipped in and out of you because of how wet you are around his dick. You put your hands on his broad chest and started to ride him. You leaned to kiss him as he guides your hips and meet your pussy hallway down with his hard thrusts. His tongue exploring your mouth and mingling with yours, you can taste yourself on his tongue. He reached down to grip your ass and you grind your hips into him faster.

“Faster baby, come on, faster,” Jungkook whispered against your lips and you steadied your arms on the window, clenching your pussy around him as his dick slipped in and out. 

“Jungkook, I’m close, I’m so fucking close ah-“curses spilled out of Jungkook’s mouth and he lifts both of your hips. 

“I need you to hold on tight okay?” he breathed out, “Can you do that, princess?” He spanked your ass when you took too long to respond and moaned his name instead as an answer. He held your hips still in a vice-like grip to hold them still and thrusts inside you in and out. You could feel his dick easily slipping between your folds and the sound of skin to skin was drowned out the moans and grunts from your mouth. 

“Come for me, Jungkook, I’m close,” You whisper into his ear and the effect was immediate. His thrusts turned sloppy and faster as your release was dangerously near. He managed two hard thrusts before smacking your ass and you came all over him.

He slammed into you three more times and came inside you. His release filling up your pussy in a familiar heat and sensation. You knew this was wrong, maybe, but you never felt so alive as you always were in his arms. He pulls out of you and you grab some tissues from the dashboard in front, offering him a few before taking some to clean yourself.

You slipped on your intimates and dress quickly before looking at him. He was still stark naked, observing you with his calculating eyes that you never were able to decipher. 

“Talk to me, Y/N.” he broke the silence. Your head was much clearer now and the alcohol running through your veins have left you bare to your own thoughts, back to your old mundane self.

“I’ve been talking since the start. You were the one not answering. You knew I loved you, and I still do. If you up and left like that ignoring my calls, you shouldn’t be surprised I gave you the silent treatment. Isn’t that your favorite treatment for me the past few weeks?” you paused and closed your eyes to take a deep breathe. Jungkook opened his mouth to respond but you held a finger in the air.

“Nope. I’m not done, honey. I just want to know why you left. Why the fuck did you leave?” you were starting to feel your eyes burn and you knew you’d be teary-eyed soon even if he responded.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was clear and full of regret, “I know that was a dick move,” he paused to put on his boxers and jeans. You didn’t notice you were looking at his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. The action was innocent, of course, but it brought an instant calming effect to your burning emotions. You averted your gaze to look at his eyes as he spoke,

“You’ve been handling all those shit from work and working double-shifts because you wanted to stay in this shitty city with me and it’s slowly eating you out. You’re not happy and it’s because of me. And I thought maybe you’d be happier if I left.” He reached out to tuck a few strands of your hair behind your ears. “You know I can help you. But you don’t want my help and I respect your decision. But it’s wearing you out. And I don’t want my baby to be unhappy.”

His confession brought your body to a halt. He thought you were unhappy this whole time. Working double-shifts weren’t a problem because the pay was good even if the co-workers were not. You mentally debated to yourself whether you should punch his cocky face or his limp dick. “Y/N..” He continued to stare into your eyes pleading for understanding. Will everything be okay even after this? He may not be there for you physically all the time but you’ve never felt more welcomed in his embrace than your family’s.

“So what happens now, Jungkook?” you voiced out your thoughts. He knew you would succumb to him with those eyes of his, but you wanted him to decide this time. You were tired. Tired of all the sleepless nights you drowned in your sorrows just to curse at yourself the next day at work. Tired of not having anyone to wake up to next to you, or even blowing up your phone with no reason at all. Tired of confiding in the company of your friend that has a much bigger problem than yours. Tired of the uncertainty this world has to offer. So the words that would come out of his mouth could either break you or greet you like the early sunrise in the morning. And there was a tiny flicker of hope inside you that hasn’t died along with the rest of you, waiting for a sign to ignite your bones with the things you knew you deserve but see no signs of receiving.

“Let’s go home.”

[indra-and-ashura]

Erza x Jellal fanfic

Lately, I’ve been working on an idea for a Erza x Jellal fanfic. I wanted to make it a two part story, but have now decided to write it a different way. I’ve written part 1 as a warming up for writing the larger story and thought I might as well share it with you guys.

It’s an AU which follows the origin of both characters for the most part. I’ve made some alterations I liked to make it different from the published story. Let me know what you think about it!

I hope you’ll enjoy it, I haven’t written anything for a while and hope this isn’t too bad :) (Sorry I’m polluting your feed with this, I don’t know how to make it an “read more” post :( )

PART 1 - JELLAL

 Images of a time long past, of a happy family and moments of love and laughter, float away when Jellal wakes up from Erza's movements next to him. He blinks and looks around, he always sleeps more soundly with Erza in his arms. With every blink the shreds of memories disappear along with the sleep. Rapidly, the shouting of guards reaches him. Eager to avoid getting whipped, he stands up and gets in line behind Erza. 

Most people stiffen when the guards pass them, but some have become so numb they don't seem to care about anything anymore. The observant eyes of men in grey army clothes scan the line for anything out of the ordinary. Jellal subtly touches Erza's arm when they approach her, assuring her things will be okay. He feels the muscles tense under her skin when the guards’ eyes linger on Erza's maturing body. 

Jellal faces the guards with blatant hate and disgust in his eyes. They just look back at the boy in front of them, barely fourteen years old and dressed in rags, and give him sneering grin before they move on. Once they've forced everyone, even the ill individuals, off their piles of straw that forms their beds and in the line, the line starts moving. One after the other, they shuffle towards the exit. 

The air outside is only a fraction colder than the air inside their wooden, cracked barn. They're handed a bowl of watery porridge made with sour milk, which they have to eat while they're led to the dark mouth of their daily hell: the Scarlet Pit, one of the rare places where ivory naculite can be mined. Their owner, Theodor Craft, makes big money by selling it. The buyers don't seem to mind it's mined by slaves. Without a word, the slaves trade in their bowl for picks and get to work. The thin layer of dust can't protect their bare feet from the cold stone underneath. In the barely illuminated mining shaft of the Pit, the only thing that protects them from the cold is working hard. A quick look around assures Jellal that the familiar faces of his friends are still here. They look exhausted and hungry, like everyone else, but they've all survived another night. 

"Eyes in front of you!" a guard yells at him. Jellal grits his teeth but obeys. He plunges his pick in the crevices of the stone in front of him, keeping a steady rhythm. His eyes burn with long held in anger and helplessness. One day, he'll escape. One day, he and Erza will be free. And his other friends as well, of course. 

 The last rays of sunshine have left the Scarlet Pit dark and cold. After a meal of glassy potatoes and undercooked pork, the slaves take their places on their improvised beds. Most have already gone to sleep, unable to fight the exhaustion any longer. Others talk in hushed voices, hoping the guards outside won't hear them. Amongst them are Jellal and Erza with their friends. 

"I heard they killed Rob," says Simon with solemn eyes, referring to one of the only adults still willing to stand up for the children at the Scarlet Pit.

"No way," Millianna objects. "I saw him fall today, he's was working only ten feet away from me. He went face forward; almost fell on the point of his pick. His eyes had glazed over. He was already dead at that point."

Simon shakes his head. "I heard a sword being drawn outside. And after that the sound of something falling in the dirt, probably his head." 

"I heard him begging," Sho unexpectedly interferes with his soft voice. His eyes dart around before he looks back at the ground. Every time he speaks it's as if he's scared off by his own voice. Jellal has always had a weak spot for the boy, who is the same age as Jellal's little brother was before he died in the Scarlet Pit at the age of eight. Jellal pushes the thought of Aren away. He touches the shoulder of the boy and smiles gently. Sho was one of the new arrivals about a month ago and isn't quite as used to things like this as the rest of them are. He smiles his tiny, insecure smile back at Jellal. 

"Any man who begs to live in a place like this is out of his mind." Kagura's voice is as cold as ice and the look in her eyes is as hard as metal. Everyone looks like they have something to say but realise there's some truth in her words. 

"He didn't beg to live," Sho says, looking Kagura right in the eyes. "He begged them to kill him." Kagura averts her eyes. 

A biting cold silence fills the space between the children. Long seconds pass while the image of a begging Rob creeps its way in their hearts. Him breaking down takes away one of the last certainties they could hang on to here. If their big example couldn't last any longer, how could they? One by one, the children stand up, say their good nights in grieving voices and move back towards their straw beds. 

When Jellal lies down, Erza snuggles up against him, tears in her eyes. He strokes her greasy, red hair and lays his arm around her. She smells of dust and sweat, but he barely notices. He undoubtedly reeks too, they rarely ever get hosed off. She soon falls asleep. When her breathing is calm and steady, Jellal allows himself to fall asleep as well, a blush on his cheeks. He dreams of a lush, green world in which he and Erza have nothing to fear.

 Jellal wakes up a fraction of a second before everything happens. It's pitch black. The boots inches away from his face alarms him. A guard stands in front of him and Erza and leans forward to grab her arm. His blue eyes have a darkness in them that Jellal hasn't seen there before in the past six years.  Aware that something is wrong Erza wakes up and looks around with big eyes. When the guard pulls her away from Jellal she starts screaming instinctively. Despite his efforts to grab hold of her, Jellal's fingers slip away. Erza fights the guard, but small as she is, there's little she can do. A big hand of the guard muffles her screams as she's carried away. 

"No!" Jellal gets up. "Don't you dare harm her!" he roars as he runs after the guard. 

He feels something crack when the guard’s fist collides with his face. Jellal falls, dark spots blurring his vision. 

"Jellal!" Erza screams before the guard places his calloused hand over her mouth again. Tears run down her face. Swaying from side to side like a drunk, Jellal stands up. Staggering and still unable to see clearly, he follows her scream, but the guard hurriedly makes his escape. When Jellal reaches the door, two guards with drawn swords block his way. With eyes as dark as the night they look down on him. The soft glow of a singular light bulb hanging from a thread makes the metal of his sword and armour glow. Behind them, he can see the shape of the guard with Erza under his arm blend in with the dark night. Helpless, Jellal watches them disappear. 

"Erza!" He screams to the night. "Erza!" There's no response. "I'm sorry," Jellal says softly, choking up.

He remains standing there, in front of the open doorway, his path blocked by two swords held by men of whom he knows they don't hesitate to use them. Tears cloud his vision and leave their traces on his cheeks. On his chin they mix with the blood coming from his nose. He refuses to go back to his bed, even when Sho gently pulls on his hand. He has to be here when Erza comes back, if she comes back. It's happened before, the disappearance of women in the night. But it was never someone their age. 

Minutes feel like hours. His friends try to make him move, but he won't budge. The other slaves don't even move. They stay on their piles of straw, facing away from the doorway, pretending to be asleep. But Jellal knows they're not. Everyone slave at the Scarlet Pit sleeps like an animal: ready to flee at any moment. He doesn't blame them, though. A person can only take so many horrors a day.

From inside the darkness, yelling and crying arises. Jellal immediately recognises Erza's voice. He feels a deep ache inside his chest. He steps forward, but the guards are alert. The point of a sword pierces the skin at the height of his heart. Drops of red blood stain his already dirty shirt. The cold metal of the other blade rubs against his throat. Suddenly, Erza's screams are mixed with shouts of low masculine voices.

"Hey!"

"Watch out!" 

"She's-"

Without warning, the excavated mining site lights up. Several hundred feet away, a bright light lights up the night. A small figure stands in the middle of it. Guards run around, shouting and pointing. The flash goes out like a flickering candle, returning their surroundings to darkness. Jellal takes advantage of the confusion around him and runs past the guards. They shout, but don't come after him. They can't leave behind an unguarded barn full of slaves. 

Stumbling over the uneven ground which is hidden by the cloak of dawn, Jellal runs in the direction of the light. "Erza!" he shouts from the top of his lungs. Muffled sounds come from afar. Jellal runs towards it. He falls over something and lands in something sticky and warm. He wipes his hands on his pants and continues running without thinking about it. One last shout echoes through the darkness. Then there's nothing but dead silence. Jellal stands still, listening for any sounds of movement. 

"Erza?" he softly says. There's no response. Running footsteps approach from afar. Others guards have been alarmed by all the commotion. "Erza, where are you? We have to leave, now!" He refuses to admit to the possibility that she's not alive anymore. The have to escape, now. She won't survive another day. 

When the first sunrays of the day fall over the mountains surrounding the Scarlet Pit, he finally sees her. Her tiny posture is accented by the massive sword she holds in her hand. Blood drips from it. Her clothes are torn and stained with dark, wet blood. She looks at a man's head without expression. Horrified, Jellal stares at her.

"E-Erza?" 

Her eyes turn to look at him with lighting speed. When she sees him standing there her eyes change from expressionless to fearful. She takes a step back, gripping the sword with both hands. Jellal reaches out for her, taking a step forward. 

"It's okay, I don't mean to harm you," he says careful. For a moment she seems to hesitate, as if she's pondering over the truthfulness of his words. 

Then, she turns and runs away, clutching the sword against her chest. 

"Erza!" Jellal shouts from the top of his lungs. "Wait for me!" He runs after her, but can't catch up. She runs as if she's being chased by a demon. Eventually, Jellal's weak body is too exhausted to go any further. Falling to his knees, he watches Erza disappear in the distance. New tears roll over his face. 

  PART 2 - ERZA

 The rays of sunshine haven't even stroked the still sleeping country of Altar, when loud shouting and high pitched whistles pierce through the darkness. Erza quickly awakes from her slumber. Her eyes dart around. The guards, yelling and cursing them, are still 16 feet away. Hurriedly, Erza stands up, waking up Jellal besides her. He quickly gets on his feet and stands behind her in the formed line of people.  

The guards approach. Erza weaves her fingers, only to unfold them and start the cycle anew time after time. Cold to the bone without the warmth of Jellal next to her, she looks at the guards, who are now only three feet away from her. Suddenly, Jellal's fingers touch her arm. Feeling a little less scared and alone, she smiles slightly. 

Determined not to give the guards any advantage over her, she keeps her face blank when she looks them in the eye. Unfortunately, all the bits of self-confidence disappear like snow under the sun when she sees the look on their faces. With a dirty grin and hungry eyes, they look at her body. Uncomfortable, she crosses her arms in front of her chest and looks away. It doesn't stop her from feeling their gaze roam her body as if she was a piece of juicy lamb to be devoured by them. Even when they finally move on she's still tense. 

Cries emerge from behind her as a woman gets pulled off her bed by her hair. Chills run down Erza's spine. She does her best not to cover her ears. Any sign of weakness could make you a target of the guards. The still burning lacerations on her back are a constant reminder of that, even though is been more than a month since she was whipped. 

Once everyone slave is in line, it starts moving towards the exit of their wooden barn. Erza quickly gobbles down her sour milk porridge before the bowl is snatched from her hands and replaced by a pick. They walk from the darkness of dawn in to the dark mouth of the mine. Dimmed light bulbs light the way. Erza takes her place in the darkness, with Jellal next to her. When he looks around, she throws him a shy smile. He smiles back, but their moment is interrupted by a yelling guard. Nevertheless, a little bit of warmth spreads from her heart through her body.

 Erza had known Rob was dead long before the others spoke about it. She hadn't seen it, since Rob's place in the mine was far deeper than theirs. But she'd felt it. The emptiness of losing someone who's dear to you. Rob had been a safe place for the children to go to. A man with countless stories and a kind sparkle in his eyes when he told them. He'd looked very old, but he was probably in his early forties. 

Knowing he'd begged to die makes his death feel a little like a betrayal. Would others betray her as well and leave her here alone? Would Jellal, who'd been brought to the Scarlet Pit at the same time she was? Who'd been by her side ever since? She looks at the boy sitting across from her in the circle. His blue hair is so dirty you can barely see their original colour through it, but his dark brown eyes still look lively. He notices her stare and smiles gently. She blushes and smiles back. When the others leave, she curls up against Jellal on his straw pile. Maybe his arms can protect her from the horrors of the night. 

 She's sleeping soundly and dreaming of a table full of delicious pies, cakes and cookies when the pastry suddenly grows angry faces and attacks her. She wakes up, breathing heavy. Realising she's safe, or at least not being attacked by cookies, she tries to calm down. But her gut keeps telling her something's wrong. She wants to look around at the same time someone grabs her arm. 

The scream has left her mouth before she even knows what's going on. She just knows it's nothing good. The posture and clothes of her attacker reveal it's a guard holding her. That's no reassurance. Jellal gets up, reaching for her, but they're too far apart. The guard presses his hand over her mouth to stop her screaming. It wouldn't matter if she yelled, screamed or begged. The other slaves are too scared to intervene anyway.

"No!" Jellal yells as he gets up. "Don't you dare harm her!" When the guard punches him in the face Erza can hear something cracking. Angry and scared, she bites in the hand covering her mouth. Cursing the guard pulls it away. She takes a deep breath. 

"Jella-!" The guard quickly places his hand back over her mouth. When she catches a glimpse of red teeth markings through her tears, it pleases her. 

Erza moves frantically, trying to get loose. Unfortunately her assailant is much taller, stronger and healthier. No matter how hard she fights, his grip doesn't loosen. He briskly walks towards the exit. The men guarding the doors let them pass without a word. Whatever is going to happen to her, they're in on it. 

After a few steps they leave behind the warm glow of the light bulb. The darkness stretches its arms out, ready to pull her in its embrace. Tears continue to stream down her face as they enter. Erza has no idea where they're going, but the guard paces onwards without hesitation. 

"Over here," a voice in the darkness says. Goosebumps instantly spread over Erza's body. 

The guard turns right, towards the voice. As they get closer, Erza can hear two male vices snickering. Every fibre of her being yells at her to get away, but she's given up on getting loose from the man's firm grip. Suddenly, she's put on the ground, surrounded by three guards. She can only tell they're there because their figures are a little bit darker than their surroundings. They emit a dangerous air and have her surrounded. Their gazes burn on her skin like the hot coals that they use as punishment: at first you don't notice it, but once you do it's too late. 

Knowing it's useless but not in the least inclined to give up yet, Erza looks around for ways to escape. She can just see the barely illuminated entrance of the barn, with a tiny figure standing behind the guards. Suddenly, even a place like that looks like a safe haven. The guards laugh at her. 

"It's futile to run away, honey. You won't get far," one of them coaxes. 

"You're a pretty one, aren't you," another chimes in. 

The man standing behind her strokes her hair. She shivers in discomfort. His hand slides down, over her shoulders towards the low of her back. She tries to step away, but there's nowhere to go. They are like possessed trees towering over her, stroking her with their rough branches. Paralysed, Erza feels their hands move to intimate places where nobody but her own hands ever come. She tries to hit their hands away and avoid their touch, but the only result is that two of them hold her down while the other does as he pleases. Her desperate sobbing has turned to quiet weeping, but feeling this helpless forces a deep felt anger up from her gut. 

When the fingers of a guard stroke higher and higher upwards on the inside of her thigh, something snaps in Erza. She refuses to be treated like this and let the men do as they like. An unknown heat rises up from the pit of her body. She feels a rush of power spread through her body. Light of an unknown source starts illuminating her surroundings. The shapes of her assailants become distinguishable from the night. They look at her with wide eyes, their hands still on her body. 

It's as if something else takes over for her. Her body moves without her willing it to. She shoves the guards aside, the light emitted by her body still growing. As if lifted by an unseen force, she sits up and is lifted of the ground. Her hair flows through the empty air. Her eyes flash towards the pommel of one of the guards' swords. Before they know what's going on, she's grabbed hold of it. The long days swinging a pickaxe in the mine have strengthened her arms and she holds the sword in front of her without much apparent struggle. The light dies out and her feet touch the cold, hard ground again. With an unerring sense of where the guards are, her eyes dart from side to side. They begin to shout and panic, but it's already too late. Erza lifts the sword, an otherworldly look in her eyes. 

It ends quicker than she expected. The sword slices through the air, beheading first one and then another guard. The third, she stabs through the heart. She lowers the point of the sword towards the ground, letting the blood drip off. The dusty stone underneath her feet turns warm and slippery from the blood, but she doesn't consciously register it. Just like she doesn’t register the bodies lying around her, bleeding out in the morning sun. 

"E-Erza?" 

A familiar voice starts to pull her back towards the world she comes from. Erza tries to mentally claw her way back, but knows it's a fight she'll lose not matter how hard she tries. She and her tainted body belong to this world. Her eyes start to focus on the scenery around her. The sun is climbing over the mountain range surrounding the Scarlet Pit. A boy stands about twenty feet away from her, looking petrified. She recognizes the face as that of someone dear to her. 

When she realises it's Jellal's, she's suddenly wide awake and aware of the situation. She's slain three men in cold blood, surrounded by an unidentifiable light, with a sword that isn't hers. She's covered in blood and her clothes are torn from fighting the guards. The fear that's clearly visible on Jellal's face, settles in her own chest. She's a monster. She can't face Jellal and she can't jeopardize his life by staying here.  There's only one option. Escape. 

She starts to run, deaf to Jellal's shouting. 

[vulpes523]

The sun pokes through a breach in the clouds. Funny, it’s the first time I’ve seen it in days.

Stars and blackness interrupt my sun-gazing as a blunt something collided with the hard of my skull and I’m sent tumbling to the splintered wood floor. I hear her yelp and scream and I’m sure she’s pleading and saying more but my ears start ringing as my head collides with the ground and I don’t hear anything more.

I’m scared.

Just scared. What a joke of a feeling. I should be feeling more. All this time in my head to think as my vision refuses to return and my ears refuse to work and all I can do is lament how little I feel.

Something painful comes to my gut and I’m reeling, sucking for breath, writhing on the ground. My exposed flesh can feel the splinters as they break loose and lodge into my pores. I think I cough up a warm something. Probably blood. It’s amazing I still have any left to cough.

It’ll come soon. He’s probably already leveling the barrel at my head... no he’s too sadistic for that—he’ll shoot me somewhere painful like the stomach. Jokes on him. There’s nothing left in this body to cling to my soul. The slightest puncture now will set me free and spirit me away. I want to yell at him to do it. I want to yell and stare at those dots of eyes with my own bloodied and broken suns of hatred and laugh and yell that I welcome this death and that everything he has done to me has amounted to nothing.

But I can’t. Because she’s here. It’s not even her fault but I blame her. Because she’s here, I’m wrong. Because she’s witnessed these atrocities and because I’ve seen what he’s done to her, what he has done has mattered; it all has amounted to something. I don’t even get my final victory over this man because there is no victory.

Just do it already, I’m forced to rely on my own mental voice. But it never comes. The blast to free my soul is delayed and my vision slowly fades from stars to the wretched rotten splintered awfulness of the gazebo in this field of nowhere.

There’s a flash as I look up.

Another picture. He likes when I’m in a position of weakness especially, just like how he enjoys her when she’s scared and crying. It’s a power thing, definitely, and every masculine receptor in my body is screaming at me to find the advantage, to take power away, to rage at this weakness I feel and—

fuck, there it is. There’s some emotion. Of course it’s anger.

I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going to let my soul free into some other place. I’m going to keep it here with this man and hold my ghost over him so that he lives a long and horrible life. I’ll make him lose all pleasures in this twisting of flesh and mind, I’ll make him feel the nausea of the world he obviously can’t feel now, I’ll haunt him and make him human and force him to cry every night over his own twisted sickly soul, and when he finally has enough and seeks to turn his barrel onto himself, as he finally works up the will to pull the trigger, I’ll make sure all he hears is a click. I’ll taint every shell he loads into whatever gun he has, I’ll make the clicking of his rifles, pistols, and shotguns a cacophony of my laughter. I’ll make this man human, and bring with it all the pain that entails, and in his despair, I hope he finds that photo of me now in my position of submission, and I hope he realizes this is my revenge.

“Up,” he says.

He motions with the shotgun. The gun is clean and well taken care of. It’s dark metal shines with what little light there is and the red tinted wood of the stock is beauty in this horrible moment. The gun is in stark contrast to its wielder. I hate his weak mustache in its blonde hues and how one side is perpetually longer than the other. His red flannel is seeped in dirt and blood and whatever other human vileness. I’ve never seen him in anything else. His baseball hat can’t cover his pattern baldness which is hilarious.

“Up,” he repeats, more stern now in his squirrelly voice.

I don’t care anymore. I look at her. She’s beside him and behind in her black dress. Her makeup is all over her face, the rivers of her tears full in their flood season. Her hair has its waves today in the dampness of the swamp’s morning. I love those tides of dark when they get lively like this. I lied. The gun isn’t the beauty in this horribleness; it’s her. But there’s sadness in that concession, because he’s made her beautiful and he keeps her beautiful for him to enjoy.

She mouths two words to me in silence when she notices my eyes, Get up.

A wet wind manifest from somewhere. It crests through the swamp and hits this lonely gazebo, takes her hair in its hand, and moves the long waves in gentle motions. The first time he really beat me and forced me to learn pain was because of her hair. Bastard tried to cut it, to shave it all. A smile moves involuntary on my face at the memory of having the strength to charge him and crack a bottle over his head. The psycho took it, though, and that’s how I’m here. That’s how she’s here. But she’s still got her hair.

Pathetic.

I’m celebrating saving her hair. What kind of man am I?

Her eyes are so filled with fear as I stare at her. They’re usually filled with nothing, just two orbs of space emptied by trauma. She’s—

searing pain in my hand, massive pressure and more stars in my eyes as the pain resonates through my nerves. His boot is on my hand, weight fully in his foot. Then relief as he lets up, but my eyes meet his and a fire flashes through them as he brings his boot down hard and through the ringing of my ears I hear distinct crunches and no longer feel in my hand.

“Up,” he repeats, his eyes ready for my protest.

“No,” the word barely comes out but it does. No more. I’m done giving this man his victory. I’ll make him kill me. I will win.

He raises his shotgun over his head in some caveman fashion channeled deep from some crevice of the mind which somehow has never forgotten the want to kill, and I can see the full of his strength both physical and mental going into the strike.

Bastard won’t even shoot me. He’ll club me to death. I could try to roll away from the blow but I’m too weak. He’ll simply hit me with the next one. No sense making this harder than it needs.

I watch as his weight shifts and the motion which would be my fate begins. His flannel sleeves are rolled up so I can see the muscles receive their orders and flex their steel. His eyes smile more than his face ever could, and as he swings it seems even his dirt crusted skin beams at the act.

I close my eyes and hope that it doesn’t hurt.

Clacking vibrates through the splintered wood. He’s playing with me. Taunting me a final time before-There’s a thud hard and heavy next to me and I hear metal introduce itself to the wood.

I open my eyes and she’s on top of him. He’s face down, blood pouring from his head but he’s still moving. She’s scrambling, her small weight surely not enough to keep the beast at bay, arms outstretched, reaching for something I cannot see.

There’s no time for me to do anything. I don’t even react as her eyes register something and she grabs with both arms at something whose weight pulls her from the beast’s back as he rises.

Half up and on his knees, the beast faces her and readies a punch; his bear paw ready and clenched, weight shifts and he throws it but something collides somewhere and he’s thrown back toward me.

I react now. Some primal remembrance of self danger activates and I have adrenaline and I roll quick but even that takes what little burst of power I had away.

The beast falls and crashes where I was. The shotgun’s butt is in the air where it met his chin, held by her.

She scrambles again and is on her feet while I struggle to move. One of her heels is off and gone, the other broken. She stands and levels the shotgun.

Fuck I need to move, the blast will get me.

Stop, I think to scream as I hear the deafening click.

But there’s nothing.

The nothing is broken quick, however, as I watch her pounce upon the beast with the gun and deliver blow after blow of polished wood and metal to head. She roars with every strike, the sun having finally found purchase in the heavens shines bright behind her and warms me as I watch this lioness make her kill.

He moves no longer. I see blood everywhere around his head and feel portions of him spattered on my flesh.

“Get up,” she says, her pale skin spotted with crimson. She moves and grabs my broken hand.

I wince as my nerves tell me my hand is fucked.

“Get up!” She hell’s now and pulls at me.

I reach my feet and find I do have strength. She still has my useless hand in hers and she begins to run. She pulls and I follow.

I give a final look at the dead man. His face it utterly destroyed, and I can’t help but wonder how she did it.

[zionyife952-blog]

A Simple Key For Car Wash Dublin Unveiled

Some say that Guido da Vigevano assembled the very first car in 1335 that utilized a windmill type assembly to drive a set of gears to turn the wheels. I would say that if that is the case, that he was also the first 1 to clean a car. The car wash/detailing market is now an multi-billion https://www.washingtonpost.com/newssearch/?query=car valeting dollar industry. Even though why would you like to pay you hard won money on having a one else detail your car? After you could do it yourself, and be certain that it's done correctly along with the way you desire. Aside from I know a great deal of car or truck fanatic out there who would prefer to depth their cars themselves. Most men and women end right here and state when they even reach that time that they are finished. They over look 1 of the most important steps in preserving and detailing a vehicle, and which is waxing. The market is filled with different types of waxing products, however how many of them get the job done? Most of the average cheap waxes include a very small portion of wax inside them, and utilize petroleum instead. Services and products that are similar to this do really modest in preserving and waxing the paint, when anything they simply squander your time and effort and money. Also be alert to the spray on wax. These waxes might give a few security for a time or 2, however nothing similar to the protection of a carnauba wax. Before you wax you need to knock out any oxidation you may possibly have. Usually, you won't need to achieve so every moment; point. Oxidation is dependent upon how much you really wax, even when you wax sun the car is exposed to, and other weather conditions. Oxidation can typically be taken off with a very clear coat compound. For ordinary finishes you may step up to polishing chemical, which is mild but still harsh for coats. You have to seal the paint afterwards, should you use these products. Once you're satisfied, start the engine up and let it run for a while with the hood down. Get rid of and use a cone sprayed with all the de-greaser and wipe down some parts. You can wipe all down using a rubber dressing or shining product. Nevertheless, do not spray or wipe down your belts, and make sure you read any safety measures. It's time for you to go on into the outside of one's vehiclesort of, detailing your engineoptimization. First you will require to cover any sensitive equipment such as electrical components. Consider having a durable aluminum foil for this particular step. If you use a home pressurewasher for this, be mindful, you'll be able to dismiss off water in regions that have beenn't supposed to find damp. I prefer using a backyard home for this measure. As soon as you have sealed everything off, spray on a high quality degreaser on to the temperature motor. Browse some warnings or safeguards on the degreaser. Work with a brush to get any residue. Then spray down together with your hose, so making certain that you get off most of the de-greaser. Go rather, if you machine-buff that the polish/wax to some high luster. The buffer is quite a bit faster than hands can easily hurt paint. Care for the chrome that is plastic as though it have been surface and defend it with a coat of wax. Attempt not to get anywhere on the dark parts that are rubberized. In the event you do, spray it and wash out product and wipe down it . If that doesn't perform a professional detailer gave a peanutbutter to this as a proposal: Microwave and then employ it. The oils of peanut butter dissolve the wax and also also its abrasive sufficient to raise the blot. If you get yourself a polish/wax residue or in crevices, break from toothbrushes and then the cotton swabs. Following removing it all about and eradicate any surplus from the cracks and emblems employing a towel and brush. Diapers are for buffing up a glow excellent. Then move on into the chimney. Should you be like me, then you hate cleaning windows to your own panic of flames. A few pointers in this area are todon't spray directly however on a rag. Have a material prepared to wipe it dry. You may use newspaper to wipe it dry, that the abrasiveness acts like a gloss plus it won't leave any stripes. Make sure you rinse your hands off until cleaning off your chimney, this may aid eliminate any dressing that is unwanted. In the event you have window tint film, it may be degraded by cleaners that contain ammonia or vinegar. Manufacturing facility tinting is at the glass and also is not influenced with these cleaners. By simply clipping out the area you are able to repair burns and holes in your carpeting. Then cut a similar size piece from a hidden spot, such as underneath the seat, and cement it. By cleaning the fixed part with all the old combine at the repair. You can get a carpet sample for price that could match the car's carpeting and are able to go to a carpet outlet. If a carpeting is looking awful it is possible to shampoo it to get any remaining dirt and dirt outside. You can lease these machines at even and sometimes a carpet store you neighborhood chain. Start with the carpets on the motorist's side then the chairs; that keeps the warmth. And soon you're finished move around the entire car. Make sure to read through any precautions against this manufacturer. Once a long time of discussing and experience Car Cleaning with some of the finest agents I've compiled a how to direct for vehicle owners that want to get there particular occupation. This guide is designed for many car enthusiasts on most degrees. Maybe you are a newcomer to car-detailing or you're just searching for a few new "suggestions" to give you the advantage at your next car series. In either case I trust that this information can help you. Squeeze removal nozzle Presoak the car first making sure you eradicate any one of the grime. Get rid of tar products time and any bug using pitch & bug remover with a sponge. Since pliers accumulate brake dirt and road particles, moveon to the rims. Use a wheel cleaner that is made for your type of rims such as being clean coated or never. Don't overlook that the underside of the automobile, along with the petrol cap lid. Start on very top of one's car or truck and move down your way. Make sure that you obtain all areas, and wash often. To do a last wash, eliminate the spray thoughts and flooding the complete finish. The drinking water will tend to operate away in sheets, so minimizing spotting. You need to use a chamois to find the bulk of the water, but finish it off using soft towels when drying off the vehicle. Were about to this part about washing your own vehicle. Make sure that you're utilizing a clean wash mitt or sponge, so and that your bucket is free of dirt and bleach. Work at the shade and be certain that the surface remains cool. Make certain you do not utilize dishwashing detergents, and are having a vehicle wash. The detergent hurts the end, wiping it of vital oils. Then you ought to seal the paint in the event you opted to employ a chemical for oxidation. You can get a glaze/sealer to do this. By wiping on sealers or glazers you employ. Utilize delicate towels to get rid of it after it's hazed above. Store Vacuum or equivalent. Paper towels, rags, and chamois. Old tshirts work nicely, also if you can come across any older "clean" fabric diaper use them since they make amazing rags for polishing the final plus are wonderful for windows. Following is a hint: break the car down into segments that are identical. Put on the prep/sealer/wax to one segment in one time prior to moving forward to the next. This let's you focus your time and efforts onto regions at a time. Now you're ready to wax. Make sure you're currently using a wax, preferably one with high amounts of carnauba wax in it. Begin at the top of one's vehicle as you are working down your way, and also do segments. Don't let it sit more than 5-8 minutes before removing, and two thin coats of this is better than one thick coat. Also apply it with a sideways motion instead of circular to avoid swirls. Make sure to contain door jambs, and also the areas below door hinges and behind bumpers. Defects could possibly be daunted burnishing the polish and then by wrapping a cotton cloth around your index finger. The vehicle is mostly dry and also if you're finished cleaning, employ your plastic sheeting to the tires, bumpers and some other plastic pieces that you wish to sparkle. This provides the automobile to finish drying and you can then look for missed regions or water runs. Orbital Buffer. These are getting pretty inexpensive. Brushes. You'll need a couple of different varieties and sizes to get in to the hard to reach regions. An old toothbrush is useful, and cotton swabs. Now for one of the portions that are harder that the dashboard. 1st you are able to burst out any dust . Clean air vent grilles and decorate up them by latching on a spray on rubber vanity. Spray any dress up cleaner on a soft towel and after that apply it be careful around the tool panel. Now where to begin? Most pros I discuss imply dirt you sweep out and starting around the inner first, so the dust won't decide to the cleaned outside. Take out any floor mats and provide that a excellent vacuuming to the carpeting and upholstery. Move the seats forward and backward to get all the dirt including in the paths, and doorway springs. You should also use 1 of your bristled brushes that are harder to get any dirt out from the cracks; it's also good for stirring up the carpet mat so you can get the majority of the junk out of the carpet. A hose or energy Washer nozzle using different head types. Power Washers are receiving reasonably priced and you may select them up at any hardware shop. To begin with is hard job and frustrating. To attempting to sell your vehicle detailing, no matter what your reason behind needing to depth your auto from wanting to wait for a auto reveal will likely be really worth your time and effort. Now there are products out there that say that it will cut your time in half, and that you only require to do it as soon as. Nevertheless, several skilled detailers I spoke with said that many of the more economical products are too good to be authentic and can damage paint tasks. This is why I suggest staying far from low quality products and sticking with the products. There's nothing that works as well as work and a few elbow grease. I can get some suggestions as I continue through the guide, but if you have a product you really like, go ahead and use it. Now in the event that you own any stains in the upholstery or carpet this is the time to take care of them. Utilize an all purpose cleaner to find outside the stains. Saturate the stain with cleaner, working it in using a moist sponge. Let it sit awhile and after that blot it out using a sterile towel. Make sure to learn the direction on the cleaner to get safety measures. You might use a window cleaner sprayed on a cone to find the headliner clean. Don't forget that the trunk/hatchback areas also. Now move on into the surfaces that are hard that are interiors, clean them using a damp cloth and a cleaner. If you might have leather upholstery, then dress the surfaces spray it on a rag for tight areas. Never use a plastic product on leather. Worn or torn areas of vinyl can be repaired using kits. Repairs are made with a patch that allows you fit grain and exactly the color of your own upholstery. Worn areas of leather can be touched up with dyes or some high grade shoe polish. Clean mitts and or a excellent sponge. Maintain a automobile duster that is fantastic all around that a number of products leave behind. Clean bucket. Make sure it's clean, and you may want to keep is as your car washing bucket. This may assist in preventing getting grime and chemicals in a bucket you use to clean your car with. We hope that you seen the info very helpful. Plus remember to protect your cars finish in the weather as much as possible. This usually means keeping the car into a garage, covered place, or having a fantastic excellent car cover. A car which is constantly exposed to sunlight and other environmental hazards require upkeep and can deteriorate quicker. Prior to Getting started you will want: